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sugarcoatedstarkey · 1 year

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Tear stained pillow case

Pairings- Drew Starkey x Fem!reader

Summary- reader is in a long distance relationship with Drew and the constant shipping of him with his cast mate (Odessa) and hate get to her.

Warnings- Angst, yelling, swearing, a smidge of domestic abuse, cheating.

A/n: to the anon who requested a sad Drew fic, I’m sorry this isn’t the best. I hope I kind of got what you were looking for but I need to work on my angst! Please send me a message when you read this xxx

“YOU, you can’t keep going on like this?!” You shouted; anger bled through your veins. You felt sick, the bile rising in your throat. “You’ve got to be fucking joking me!”.

The nerve of your boyfriend, he spends months away from home. Spends every waking minute with his co-star Odessa, he kisses his co-star off screen and he’s the one who can’t keep going on?!

“Yes Y/N” Drew begins to argue, you cut him off by throwing his pillow at him. He doesn't even flinch, his face screwed up in anger. “No Drew, I’m not fucking done” you yell, you look crazy.

You look like the crazy jealous girlfriend his fans had painted you out to be, and you had every right to be.

“You don’t get to put this shit on me Drew, YOU KISSED HER!”.

-Previously-

You couldn’t take it anymore; his face was all over your FYP. You were stupid enough to create a TikTok account, scrolling endlessly and searching the tags for your boyfriend Drew.

You knew what you would see, thirst traps and edits of him and his cast mate Odessa. Edits of the sex scenes they had to film, everyone shipping them together. You were trying to make yourself hurt, you sat there reading the comments. Reading the hateful things they said about you, the words cutting you like tiny knives.

Ugly

Not good enough for Drew

She’s not even famous

Fat

You were ugly crying at this point, unsure why you put yourself through the pain day in day out. Drew had told you a handful of times not to go searching for these things, to pretend like the fans didn’t exist.

But how could he expect you to pretend? He was famous and there was no hiding it. He had been away for 3 months now; you had a routine of face timing every night around 6pm, but tonight was different. He had an event. An event with Odessa.

“GOD Y/N! What are you doing?!” You shouted, staring up at the ceiling. You roughly rubbed your face, your mascara smearing under your eyes. The tears didn’t stop falling down your cheeks. “STOP!” You ordered yourself, but it only made it worse.

Hyperventilating at this stage, gripping the blankets under you. Pressing your face into the white pillowcase, you were pathetic. A pathetic mess. You were so glad Drew was 12 hours away, there was no chance he’d walk through the doors and see you right now.

You hated that you were being so jealous, you knew he loved you. He adored you. Whenever someone tries to hint at him and Odessa in interviews, he always mentions you, you’re all over his Instagram.

You had never met Odessa; you never had the opportunity to. You did think that meeting her might make you feel less jealous, seeing how they act together in person and not from stupid TikTok clips that were edited purely to make people think they were together.

Your phone ringing cuts your crying short, you sit up quickly and reached for your phone. Seeing his face flash on the screen had you nervous, your skin clammy and heart racing.

You wiped away as much mascara as possible and dimmed the bedside lamp, pressing answer on the screen. His smile appearing on your screen moments later, he was in dark room with a small yellow overhead light.

“Hi baby” he grinned; you could see the glimmer in his eyes. You wanted to burst out crying again but instead you dig your fingernails in your thigh and gave him a fake smile. “Hey baby” you whispered, worried your voice would be husky from all the screaming and crying.

“Why is it so dark?” He questioned, his eyes darting around the screen as though he was trying to look over your shoulder. You shrugged and moved to lay on your stomach. “Going to bed early” your voice cracked, and you quickly hid it behind a cough, you could see a shift in his face.

“What’s wrong babe?” He questions, his eyebrows crease together. He looks over his phone for a second and mouths ‘hold on’ and his eyes dart back to you on the screen. “Nothing, I’m okay. You need to go babe, we can talk later” you smile, brushing him off, you wanted to go back to your sob fess.

“Your lying” he states, his features have hardened. You know he doesn’t like it when you keep things from him, he likes you to be open about your feelings. But right now, you didn’t have the energy to discuss why you were spending your Saturday night crying in bed at 6pm.

“Babe, we can talk about it when your home” “No, tell me now”

“Drew!” His eyes dart over his phone again and he lets out an exasperated sigh, he runs his hand over his face and squeezes the bridge of him nose.

It’s as though you can see the tension building in his shoulder blades, you so badly wanted to be there to offer him comfort. You wanted to be the one to rub his shoulders and whisper ‘you got this’

“Okay, I’ve got to go. I’ll call you tomorrow”.

He ends the call without an I love you, that just sets you off again and you spend the next 2 hours crying your eyes out until you pass out against his pillow.

—-

When you awaken the next morning, you’ve rolled over onto Drew’s side of the bed. Squeezing his pillow tightly against your body. Breathing in his scent that barely lingered anymore.

“Such a loser” you mumble to yourself; you reach for your phone that’s hidden under the blankets.

No notifications

You let out a defeated sigh and make yourself get ready for the day; you had planned to clean the apartment. Drew would be home in a few days, and you wanted him to come home to some normality.

And that’s exactly how you spent your Sunday, cleaning and staying off your phone. It was much harder to do the latter, you were itching to call Drew.

You usually sent texts back and forth every day, sent a couple of pics and just tried not to go crazy without one another. You had hoped listening to music and keeping you busy would stop the incessant thoughts that were flying around your head.

But you found yourself battling with your thoughts more than listening to the music. By the time nightfall came you had scrubbed every corner of the apartment. You had lit a candle in the living room and taken a seat when your phone lit up, the music travelling through the empty room.

You answer, plastering a smile on your face. He gives you a soft smile, he’s dressed in a green button up. The button up you had brought him for his birthday, you loved that colour oh him.

“Hey babe” you both say at the same time, letting out a chuckle at the two of you being awkward around each other. “How are you?” You ask, eyes flickering around the screen.

You can’t see much from where he is sat, you can hear voices and assume he’s just got back from the poguelandia event. You don’t even realise he hasn’t answered, too focused on who’s voice you can hear so close to the phone.

That’s when you look back at him, he’s not even looking at the phone. He’s looking over it again, mourning something and rolling his eyes.

“Why are you acting strange?”

“I’m not?”

“Okay.. why do you keep looking over the phone?”

“Oh, just watching something”

I’m that moment you knew something was going on, Drew always gave you his undivided attention even when he was mad. You didn’t like this, it made you feel sick again.

You were so sick of feeling unwell and anxious. “I’m going to bed”

Drew nods his head and finally looks at you, you press the end call button. You didn’t want to look at his face, you didn’t want to hear his voice. You wouldn’t be able to handle not hearing I love you back. It was easier this way.

You don’t know why you do it, but you don’t go to bed. Instead, you go searching on tiktok again. And that’s where you see it, the videos from poguelandia.

How close he and Odessa are, the way she dances with him. The whispering, the walking close together. You knew it, you just needed confirmation. He liked her, he didn’t want to be with you anymore and that’s why he’s distancing himself.

The tears don’t come though, your body seems to go into denial. Your stomach still unsettled, and your mouth feels dry but you place your phone on the counter and stare at the wall.

- 2 days dater -

“Hey, babe” you’re aroused from sleep, somebody shaking your arms. You jump, gripping the blankets around your chest. “Oh, it’s you”.

“Don’t seem so happy to see me?”

You don’t answer him, instead you stare at him. He takes a seat at the edge of the bed; he smells like the cologne you had brought him for his birthday.

He showered and is dressed in jeans and an oversized white shirt, hair a little messy since he’s growing it out for a project. “I missed you” Drew smiles, it’s a fake smile. You can tell them apart now.

He moves to give you a kiss, but you press your palm to his shoulder, giving your head a small shake.

You’re not dressed for an argument, so you pull yourself to stand and grab an oversized shirt. Not really sure if it’s one of yours or Drew’s but it really didn’t matter at the time.

“What’s wrong babe?” He questions, pulling himself to stand. He towers over you, making you feel small. The tough exterior you had been working on, crumbling slowly.

“Stop calling me babe... just, tell me the truth Drew”.

You don’t even need to clarify what you’re talking about; he runs a palm down his face. He begins to pace the bedroom floor; you had hoped he would deny it.

“I knew it”.

“It was a kiss” Drew states, your heart breaks. You feel as though you can physically hear the cracking of your heart, the bile rises in your throat and the tears pierce your tear ducts begging to be released.

“W-what?” You whisper, your voice wobbles. Your hands shaking as you move to hold yourself against the desk chair. You needed stability or you’d fall to your knees.

“I kissed Odessa, the night of poguelandia”

Your nails carve deep crescent moons into the wooden chair, your chest rising and falling heavier as you try to calm yourself down.

You can’t let yourself fall apart in front of him, he didn’t deserve to see you crumble.

“What the fuck Drew?” You yell, but your voice cracks and you slam your palm over your mouth to stop the hysterics from starting.

Turning your body so you’re not looking at him as the tears cascade down the apples of your cheeks, biting harshly on the skin of your lip. The familiar metallic taste fill your senses.

“It meant nothing”

“FUCK OFF with it meant nothing, why did you do it then?!”

This just seems to set him off, igniting something inside of him that he’s been holding onto for a long time. He’s stepping towards you and you’re taking steps back.

You’re back meeting the wall as he towers over you once more, making you feel smaller than you were. “Because Y/N, you’ve been acting weird. You’ve been distant and quiet; you’ve been making me feel bad for having a career”.

His voice is low and threatening, his hand hits at the wall behind you. You push on his chest, making him stumble back slightly.

“No Drew, I would NEVER make you feel bad for your career choice. However, I would distance myself so that I wasn’t sitting at home crying over you every night, missing you. Wishing I was with you, do you know how hard it is for me?!” You cry, you poke at his chest with your pointer finger. His larger hand grabbing yours to stop you from doing it.

You fight against him until he drops your hand, and you step away from him, your cheeks burnt red with frustration.

“How hard you’ve got it? What about me Y/N? Why is it always about you? I’m the one having to leave, do you know how hard that is on me?”

You shake your head, of course he was turning this all back around to the two of your issues. Acting as though kissing Odessa was okay, that it was just something he needed to do to forget about the issue at home.

“Don’t, don’t bring up all this. You kissed another woman; this is on you. Yea we have problems, every couple does. Yeah, we all have it hard, doesn’t make it okay for you to kiss your co-star” you shout.

You grab your phone; you don’t know why you want to add fuel to the fire. You’re on tiktok before you can rationalise with your brain, the second you’re on the app. The videos are there waiting.

“You see the shit that I have to deal with, go on, watch it”.

You throw the phone across the bed, his eyes falling to the screen of the iPhone. The video loops over the two of them dancing and whispering at the event, you can see him swallow harshly.

“This is a fan editing videos- “Drew begins to argue, and you let out a grunt of frustration, running your hands through your messy bed head.

“I can’t keep going on like this”

“YOU, you can’t keep going on like this?!” You shouted; anger bled through your veins. You felt sick, the bile rising in your throat. “You’ve got to be fucking joking me!”.

The nerve of your boyfriend, he spends months away from home. Spends every waking minute with his co-star Odessa, he kisses his co-star off screen and he’s the one who can’t keep going on?!

You knew you looked like the crazy jealous girlfriend his fans had painted you out to be, and you had every right to be. Your boyfriend of three years had kissed someone who wasn’t you and it wasn’t for a movie.

“You don’t get to put this shit on me Drew, YOU KISSED HER!” You cry, you can’t stop the tears now. You’re hyperventilating again, pressing the palms of your hands into your eyes.

He’s stepping around the bed and pulling you against his chest, you want to fight against him. You want to tell him to get out of the apartment.

But you also want to beg him to stay, beg him to stop seeing Odessa. Beg him to start fresh with you, move on and be happy.

“This is the end, isn’t it?” He questions, you pull away from him slightly. Mascara pooling in your lower lashes, you probably should have washed that off before you went to bed.

“It has to be” you breath, tears begin to fall from his own eyes. This only makes you hysterical, sobbing into his chest as he holds you tighter. You don’t even want him to let go.

“I’ll always love you Y/N, I’ll always think about you when I walk past a bookstore or see those fancy chocolate donuts in the bakery down town” he whispers, his lips are pressed against your hair. His grip is tight around your body, he doesn’t want to let go either.

“I was lucky enough to love you, I’ll always remember that” You whisper, tears fall harder as you look at one another.

“Oh.. if we are doing the right thing, why does it hurt so much?”

“I don’t know”

His thumb wipes away the tears on your cheek, pressing his forehead to yours. You let him kiss you one last time. His lips are soft, and they feel like they always do, they were made for you.

“I should go... I’m so sorry Y/N, truly so sorry”.

You watch him leave, you wait for the front door to close and that’s when you let yourself fall. Knees meeting the hardwood floor, the draft from under the bedroom door kiss your toes. You let out a gut-wrenching sob, praying he would come back and fight.

Taglist- @novxturient @kookypogue111

Part 2

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magiccath · 10 months

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Every Word

Tenth Doctor x GN!reader

Summary: In which two idiots who believe their love is unrequited finally admit their feelings for each other

A/N: My old account got accidently deleted so I'm using it as an opportunity to rework some of my older fics.

Sometimes, you were so distracting to the Doctor. Often, you weren’t even trying to be. You just were. Your existence was enough to make him forget what he was doing. Like, right now.

You were sitting in the TARDIS control room, a book in hand. You leaned casually back against the console, one foot crossed over the other. You bit your thumbnail anxiously as your eyes darted across the pages. Whatever the story was, it had you fully engaged.

He loved how focused you were - like the book was the most interesting thing in the whole ship. Your head was bent over the pages, causing your hair to fall in your face slightly. He had to resist the urge to reach over and brush the strands away from your eyes.

He was supposed to be fixing the console. Even if he wasn’t doing that, he should be doing things that weren’t staring at you. He couldn’t help but feel that it was wrong, looking at you like this. He shouldn’t be as enamored with you as he was.

He ran his hands over his face, tugging slightly. He needed to snap out of it. You shifted slightly, the motion causing his eyes to wander back to you. It was so hard to look away.

Sensing his eyes on you, you peeked out from behind your book. The Doctor turned a deep scarlet and whipped his head away from your direction, pretending to act busy. You chuckled lightly to yourself and returned to your book.

The Doctor couldn’t help himself, his eyes drifted over to you again. And again.

“Doctor?” You laughed when you caught him again. The man blushed and rubbed his neck anxiously.

“Yes?”

“What’s wrong?” you asked, setting the book down. The Doctor looked at you, confused.

“You’re staring,” you elaborated, narrowing your eyes.

He shook his head vigorously, mumbling something you couldn’t quite hear.

“Do I have something on my face?” you rushed out, raking your hands across your face.

“No, no,” The Doctor blubbered, “you look beautiful. You always look beautiful.”

He regretted it immediately. He really shouldn’t have said that.

You raised your eyebrow inquisitively. The Doctor was prone to rambles and word vomit, but they usually didn’t involve him calling you beautiful. This was uncharted territory, and you would be lying if you said you weren’t interested.

“I mean, you’re just naturally a really gorgeous person. More stunning than any star I have ever seen. Very possibly the most beautiful creature to exist. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever met someone or something that matched your beauty,” the words came out in rushed clumps and you had to bite back a laugh. He was tripping over his words in an attempt to save face, but really he was just digging himself into a deeper hole.

He averted his gaze and tugged at his hair. You found that he usually did that when the cogs in his brain were racing to keep up with his babbling mouth.

“What I’m trying to say is there's nothing wrong with your face,” He gasped desperately, putting an end to his ramblings.

You giggled quietly, trying to hide your laughter with a hand over your mouth. The Doctor chattered on all the time, but it was extremely rare you got to see him this flabbergasted. If you didn’t know better, you would think that he might actually have feelings for you. Ones that weren’t of the friendship variety, that is.

“Thank you,” You grinned. The Doctor could feel his hearts melting. The minute you flashed him that smile he knew he was a goner. He loved your smile and even more, he loved being the cause of your smile.

“You’re quite handsome yourself,” you smirked before walking to the other side of the room, averting the Time Lord’s gaze.

You didn’t want to ever admit out loud that you found the Doctor attractive. It’s not that you were ashamed of it. Practically everyone fancied the Doctor, he was just that kind of bloke. Rather, you couldn’t imagine him viewing you as more than a companion. But the way that he had been rambling on only a few minutes ago suggested otherwise…

The two of you never really bantered like this. Is that what this was? Was the Doctor flirting with you? The mere thought of it left you shaky and breathless. It felt too good to be true.

The Doctor was shocked by your compliment, the words leaving him motionless. His reaction left you scared that you had gone too far, so you busied yourself with the numerous buttons on the console in front of you. Idly, you traced your fingers across them.

“Really?” The Doctor asked, wide-eyed. You smiled to yourself. He could be so daft sometimes.

“I suppose so,” you said, finally lifting your eyes to meet his. Your words made the Doctor light up, a wide grin quickly taking over his face.

“I’m quite fond of you, y’know?” You blushed, turning your head back towards the console.

“I’m quite fond of you as well,” He said, moving closer to you.

“Insanley fond,” you added. “You might even be my favorite person,” you shook your head.

“You’re mine,” he whispered, taking your hand in his.

“I am?” You asked, genuinely shocked.

“Of course! Have you met yourself?”

You threw your head back laughing, the action making the Doctor smile to himself.

“I love you,” he smiled adoringly, his wide toothy grin igniting a warmth in your stomach. You blushed and looked away, his gaze feeling insanely heavy.

“I- I mean... Uh,” He stammered, suddenly embarrassed by his confession.

“Me too,” you interrupted his bumbling thoughts, looking up at his tall form. The Doctor stopped his blubbering and looked down at you. He swallowed anxiously, the action making his Adam’s apple bob aggressively. His eyes darted across your face, settling on your lips multiple times.

“As more than a friend,” he whispered.

“As more than a friend,” you repeated with a smile.

The Doctor's eyes darted from your eyes to your lips and back, silently asking for permission. You nodded gently, the motion hardly noticeable. It was all the invitation he needed to grasp your face in his hands, delicately leaning in. He hovered for a few seconds, still giving you time to pull away.

You sighed with frustration, grabbing his tie desperately and using it to pull his lips into yours.

The Doctor was stunned at first but quickly relaxed into the kiss. His hands draped around your waist, gently pulling you closer to him.

Your own hands found their way into his hair, fingers tangling with the messy brown strands. You sighed deeply, the warm feeling in your stomach spreading across your body.

The Doctor smiled against your lips, unable to contain his joy.

After a moment, you pulled apart to gasp for air, your breaths coming out in quick pants. With red faces and lips plumped from the kiss, you smiled at each other before letting out a lighthearted laugh. His thumb trailed lightly across your bottom lip, the gesture gentle and loving. You ran your fingers along the seams of his suit, tracing the familiar lines.

Still not getting enough of you, the Doctor plastered kisses across your face. He kissed your cheeks, forehead, chin, and collarbone lightly before landing on your lips again. This kiss was softer, more delicate. When he pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours. You let out a relaxed sigh and danced your fingers across the nape of his neck.

“I meant every word,” He whispered, which made you laugh.

“So did I,” you smiled up at him, before pulling him back in for another kiss.

#10th doctor x reader #tenth doctor x reader #10th doctor #tenth doctor #10th doctor/reader #tenth doctor/reader #reader insert #doctor who #doctor who fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #david tennant #tenth docotor imagines #idiots in love

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somethinginworl · 1 year

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He would not fucking say that - Kirby franchise edition (Results)

Well! Seems like a lot of people had a lot to say about mischaracterized Kirby characters, as a matter of fact, there were a whooping 57 entries! Well, let’s get going with them, shall we? Just,,, beware that this is a LOOONG post.

Haltmann

The dude 100% did fucked up shit and needs to be held accountable but people seem to so easily forget the degree he was influenced/corrupted by Star Dream. I don't understand why people hate Haltmann and love Star Dream who is arguably the actual reason HWC started colonizing and draining planets. Also the fact that Haltmann isn't conventionally attractive to the majority of the fandom makes him less sympathetic ig?? But the dude is a grieving father who made mistakes that sent him down a spiral into being corrupted and then deleted by a heartless machine. I can't help but pity him

Prince Fluff

Go on ao3. Look in his tag on tumblr. He exists only to be Kirby or Shadow Kirby's love interest most of the time, with no personality of his own.

He barely gets recognized anymore, and if he does, it's usually as a ship Prince Fluff was a big part of my childhood, with Epic Yarn being my first game. To me, he was Kirby's fellow main character, and they had a cool sibling/best friend relationship. But now, a lot of what I see of him is just . . . Kirfluff. Which is cool and all, but man's a prince! He can do more than be a boyfriend! Heck, he runs an entire kingdom by himself! One thing that I want to see more of is Fluff as a stressed but caring ruler, not just a sidekick/boyfriend to the pink puff. Give yarn boy his deserved appreciation!.

Dark Meta Knight

Hello! I am here to spread the good word of a character with no personality. It's the mirror thing. Of course. Dark Meta Knight has No Personality. Zero. Nada. Zilch. He's Meta Knight but Dark. What does that mean? Your guess. He fights Meta Knight. And wins lmao skill issue blueboy. And fights Kirby. And loses a few times, which isn't surprising. He was dumb enough to split Kirby in four, though. Four times the Kirby is four times the amount your ass is grass. You're practically a forest at that point because you're so grass. So he's violent and has no personality outside of being violent. Woo! Triple Deluxe has him attack Dedede in Dededetour inside the Mirror. This has led people to think he fucked over Sectonia. This makes my heart bleed as much as Taranza probably did when he was punted off of Royal Road via Fuck You Lightning Ball. My man just has no sense of timing,,,, They just wanted to include a Meta Knight battle because Knight Battles are a Kirby standard at this point,,, You think a man that stupid can figure out how to take advantage of a woman's insecurity? I don't even know if he knows women exist. How many female Amazing Mirror characters are there??? Boxy??? Moley mentions having a wife once and Dameta doesn't know what he means. But other than being driven to immense violence and being scapegoated for the stuff his boss probably did, Dameta has other hobbies! Like whatever his motivation in Star Allies is. Something dastardly, I'm sure. People really like to pretend he's not part of the Star Ally club when my man is doodling with toddlers and posing with his less cool less edgy self. Would a villain have a silly little we heart kirby statue? No, didn't think so. Also I cannot imagine him as a dad to Shadkirby either. Do they even interact? I've seen both "Amazing dad" and "Outright abusive" as interpretations and I can't go with either. But I think that's because I don't enjoy Metadad that much. They're like awkward coworkers. He thinks they're student and mentor. They're not even that. Dameta barely knows Shadow exists.

Dark Meta Knight is very popularly characterized as like an abusive parent, usually physically abusive. Mainly to Shadow Kirby, of course. He's an asshole, yeah, but not THAT bad, christ. I've seen multiple fics where Shadow Kirby is some poor little hey what t the fuck hes fighting himself. um. Back to being a hater.

Shadow Kirby

Some folks still think he's shy/cowardly like from the Amazing Mirror Days. Not really true anymore. From what fans have seen from the ending of the game, he does protect the Mirror World. As for the spin off games that include him, he's pretty tough and even creates mischief sometimes.

Shadow Kirby is constantly treated as an "evil" Kirby. Especially bad after Fighters and fighters two. Not to mention "Parallel Kirby". There's also a strangely common trend of making them more sapient than pink Kirby, who tends to be infantilised to hell and back. Shadow Kirby also is often treated as a complete coward who can't do anything right, when they aren't called evil.

He's shown as completely different in several different occasions, not only in personality but in design I like shadow kirby he's purple and then he's not

Dark Taranza

Dark Taranza, gonna be honest what little characterization people give him are actually okay compared to the rest. But I'm still a hater and hang on im watching jerma clips. okay. He's like Sectonia if Sectonia was Taranza if that makes sense.

Shadow Dedede

Shadow Dedede barely gets shit but I'm going to be a little hater anyways. I don't like most characterizations. I see people make him like a dictator like bro he's literally just some guy.

Sectonia

have you seen how often people say that sectonia and taranza were boyfriend and girlfriend in canon?????? they were never!!! shes the gosh dang final boss but shes only ever used to give taranza angst. she is her own person with a personality!!!! yes their backstories are interconnected but gosh!!!!

This not too prominent but I can't stand it when people portray her as an uwu shy girl pre-corruption. While she gave in her worst aspects, she was probably always a kind of vain, girlboss! I mean she knows how to fight with rapiers c'mon!!!

idk it just feels like lots of people just see her as Taranza's tragic dead wife and like nothing else you know? like she is more than that and I feel like what little content we have of her proves that (like the soul boss descriptions (especially the original japanese text of the 2nd phase!!) and the eternal dream song) - or maybe im reading too much into those because im hyperfixating on my blorbo whoops

Kine

I'm not sure how true this opinion is considering how little people talk about Kine, I feel this is partially the anime's fault, or maybe its because of how he just looks, but Kine is cool and is not some stupid loser fish. Before the days of Crystal Shards, Him, Kirby, Rick & Coo were the dream team at the time, always hanging out going, with various activities long before the days of Meta Knight or even Dedede. Kine is an awesome aquatic rep for the Kirby series not to mention drinking and being a pirate and Kine even has a Wife! Kine has got it! I guess this is a partial compliant of Ship of Theseus which can be applied with Rick & Coo too, but I feel Kine gets the most hate if any because of people who are unfamiliar just see a dopey fish and are unaware of his origins and his past with Kirby. I'm not upset with the current representation of the Kirby cast (I love the RTDL team being the main crew) but I do hope the animal buddies get some more love, Especially Kine.

Dedede

reduced to his significantly less in-depth and compelling characterization from the anime

Anime Dedede.

Magolor

one time i read a series of fanfictions where he called every female character in the story a bitch and was portrayed as the good guy in the story

Is it possible to both be flanderized and woobified at the same time? There is a lot of "removing his responsibility for his actions" but can we get better jokes than "hehe Microtransgolor hehe scammer egg”

Always an uwu soft boy. Like no that is a criminal not a catboy.

Bro would never be intimidated by Magolor

Marx

People either portray him as a edgy sociopath or constantly bored and annoyed. Portraying him as an adult or a teen kinda annoys me as well. I'm very picky about portrayals of Marx so don't get upset if you portray him as one of these I've listed.

Sometimes I see people only joking about the "hungry so he came along" thing with Marx and it's pretty overdone

They took one look at him and said “to the insane asylum bitch”. I don’t think he’s some crazy murder hobo rather a dude with questionable morals and puts his own mischief and fun before others it seems. Though Marx is indeed one of the least ��character” characters when I mean he doesn’t have much depth in comparison to other characters. But you could do anything else than have him follow the Jevil path of him being crazy. Make him evil? Sure. Make him a cringefail idiot? Sure. Make him a crybaby bitch? Go ahead. But making him the definition of what a 14 year old white girl in New Jersey that probably is addicted to Instagram and thinks Webtoon comics are the highest level of art and storytelling’s definition of insane doesn’t cut it cuz. Slapping the spaz label without a thought of what’s being done on a character who fits the mark makes the Schizoid peeved who coulda known. As this is all coming from the one person who has likely ruined Marx’s character the most for Kirblur by making him a somewhat empathetic manchild who clings to both pipe dreams of normality and being a monster btw. (Also this doesn’t mean jokes, you can joke about him being a psycho like Jerma it’s when it’s taken 100% seriously is when it’s bad). Also to add on, Woobification of Marx or any Kirby character period CAN be annoying if taken too far. I take full responsibility in the fact my variant is also woobifed to an extent but that train full of ticking bombs doesn’t bother me as much. Make him sadcry and be gay he deserves both those things. Send him to sad hell with the rest of them.

To the anon above... What?

Making him stupid or reducing him to just Silly Clown. Or just having him act in purely impulsive or spontaneous ways (which sometimes happens when juxtaposed with a more "collected" character like Magolor).

Daroach

this is something i’ve noticed specifically in chatfics, but when daroach is in the ensemble some of them tend to designate him as the Goofy Meme Dumbass for… idk, fandom quota? i really don’t know why it happens because he has a bunch of canon dialogue (and alternate continuity stuff like the novels) that show him to be cool and clever. i’m not saying he can’t have a sense of humor or anything (he’s definitely the type to have a bunch of quips), but it sucks when he’s mischaracterized because the fandom doesn’t give him that much attention as is. if you NEED a silly haha guy, marx is right there!”

Morpho Knight

"Morpho Knight is a creature of mercy. It's a benevolent entity putting tired souls to rest." NO?! I'm going to copy-paste some stuff I put in a post of my own. A while back, SYZekrom on Reddit translated Morpho Knight's entry, and it contains some... interesting information. Allow me to provide some excerpts. "He’s a red knight with butterfly wings, continuing from a pair of white wings like an angel’s, and a pair of azure wings with a bit of an evil feel." This is the first of two instances where Morpho Knight is outright stated to be evil. There's also stuff in the art book that supports my theory that Galacta and Morpho are permanently fused and the former is not dead, but I don't want to get carried away. These are its gacha figure descriptions in Forgotten Land: "The fluttering fiend that casts judgment upon final battles is drawn toward the isolated isles of Forgo Dreams. There, it feasts on the most powerful soul it finds and takes the fearsome form of a scarlet-clad knight… Let the most challenging battle of this new world begin!" –English "One of the dreaming birds, which are said to pass judgement upon decisive battles, drifts towards a forgotten, isolated isle as if summoned. There, it sips upon the strongest Soul and descends as a red knight. Finally, welcome the dusk… of the deadliest battle in this New World!" –Japanese While at first glance there doesn't seem to be any information of note, the "fluttering fiend" bit in the English version is outright stating Morpho Knight is evil, and the phrase "he deadliest battle in this New World" doesn't sound particularly heroic. But I digress... Morpho is NOT a good person! This is clearly leading up to a villain vs hero confrontation! Which, may I add, implies that reaping Galacta Knight wasn't necessarily a good thing for it to do?!

Elfilis

elfilis is NOT entirely malicious. they would gladly accept hugs and kisses. being in a fucking capsule ALONE and AWARE for likely CENTURIES will DO SOMETHING TO YOU YOU KNOW?? god fucking DAMN dude... and after the ending of the true arena in the game, WILLINGLY GAVE THEMSELF UP TO ELFILIN. also they're not fucking DEAD you PSYCHOPAYHS elfilis is STILL VERY MUCH ALIVE!!!!!!! RUUAAAGGGH!!!!!!!!!!

Susie

Being Evil or being a Sad uwu girl who has had bad things happen to her seems to be the only way most people can portray this character.

Susie isn't a friend. She's selfish and wanted to take over the company. Her "redemption" is pointing Kirby at the world-ending machine, gives him armor, and then stands around. She doesn't even know his name. The closest she does for good is tell Kirby to do something he would've done on his own.

My girl really became the subject of hate thanks to a mistranslation. I mean yeah she likes robots and shit but the fact that people think she is a terrible person and that she's still colonizing planets makes me upset. i blame the translation team for everything.

When people say she has fully redeemed herself and is reduced to cishet, pretty girl??? Like no, star allies mistranslation my ass you fell for her corporate propaganda. The female characters in this franchise, while lovable, is not nearly as popular as a lot of the male ones. HAL literally gave us a morally grey girlboss who we can still sympathise with. She actually feels like a very real character in this fictional world.

You Know How People Are About Her

she's not even my blorbo!!!!!! everyone thinks she's a huge evil bitch who has done terrible genuinely unspeakable things. i read a fic that went on and on abt the horrible things she "did" to meta knight when he was mechanized (things so bad i cant even say) and i was pulling my hair out she did not fucking do any of that!!!! yes the universe can have pretty dark moments but good lord people only use her to woobify meta knight and give fuel to ship him with others and it pisses me off lol. or people go too far the other way and woobify HER to ship with him and aughhhh no one has a shred of media literacy. she's not purely good or purely evil she's such a complex character who did bad things because she was in a bad situation and the best example of a morally grey character who's on no one's side but herself and that will always be more interesting that 100% good or 100% evil. once again she's not even my blorbo but i've never seen a character butchered this badly by a fandom

Because of mistranslation (from what I've heard) Susie's whole mechanizing planets has been the number one thing when it came to susie hate and the only reason as to why people hate this girl so much. Honestly Susie's character has been fucked up immensely and no one has such a divided spread of opinions like she does. Some people brush away her backstory and make her a soulless being with no love whatsoever.

Oh my god. Oh my god. Susie Haltmann. I cannot with the fandom interpretations anymore. It's ridiculous how bad they've gotten. Susie is a two dimensional character. I absolutely despise seeing people portray her as some sort of greedy capitalist bastard and "the one with the braincell". In canon, she's consistently been portrayed as a sweet person (with a knack for violence, but EVERYONE in this series is like that). Everything bad she did in Planet Robobot was FOR WORK and the will of HER FATHER, and even if she did want to do the things she did, she's clearly not doing them any more. The "mechanizing planets and peoples" line in Star Allies is a mistranslation. And the "punishing savages" doesn't have to mean anything bad. It could mean she's punishing evildoers with her money and resources. In fact, I've seen some translations put it like that And Meta Knight... is just the straw that broke the camel's back. Oh lord. Why does everyone insist that he hates her? There's the little scene in Star Allies... but god, that isn't canon, it's clearly a joke. If anything, Susie might have been trying to talk to him and he was just trying to avoid her in a misinterpretation of the situation. It's supposed to be funny. Why are you imposing this onto people like this automatically makes Susie a devil incarnate and anything involving those two characters in problematic? Just shut up.

Meta Knight

Everyone thinks he’s just the ‘edgy character’ or ‘the uncaring mentor figure’ while in actuality he really does care for Kirby (and Bandana Dee) more than anyone gives him credit for!

Everyone either makes him all broody and lonesome, like shadow the hedgehog or batman; or they make him a goofy dad, like Dedede or Hugh Neutron. In reality, he's a weird uncle with unknown motivations, simultaneously selfish and practical. Also, he doesn't hide the fact that he likes sweets, he eats them away from everyone so no one steals them (Dedede and Squeak Squad).

He's not Kirby's fucking dad! He's an irresponsible uncle that hands out swords! And he is definitely in love with dedede, he is the only other dramatic bitch willing to build a skyscraper to beat up kirby (I am using intense anger for comedic effect)

HES A FUCKING TWINK ASS FRUITY ASS MOTHERFUCKING CRINGEFAIL MAN. HE NEEDS TO HAVE HIS PERSONALITY INTERPRETED AS BOTH THE MANGA AND THE GAMES. YES HE IS MYSTERIOUS BUT HE ALSO WOULD TRIP AND FALL OVER HIMSELF. I NEED STAR ALLIES KICKING SWORD PISSED. I NEED MANGA ROSES BITCHASS META. I NEED THAT PARTICULAR VERSION OF MY BOY meat knight RIGHT NOW. meta knight is cringefail. half of the fandom agrees the other half does not. im explode.

He wants to look cool so bad but he is actually a huge fucking goofy goober. Any representation of Meta Knight being a badass is propaganda made by Meta Knight himself to convince you he’s cool. I mean have you seen his RTDL Deluxe pause screen description? King Dedede’s and Bandana Dee’s are in first person, but his is in third person? He’s literally talking about himself in the third person like hello????? Meta Knight is such a fucking lame goofy little man who thinks he’s the most badass motherfucker on the planet.

To fair this has been less common lately but back during 2014-2016 MK was usually portrayed in fanart/fanfic as either this wise veteran or cold edgelord. He is just an unhindged!!! Silly!!! Guy!!! He can be cool and cringefail!!! But he is also compassionate in his own aloof, awkward way!!!

i am not a big fan of the metadede ship. i think people are shipping for the sake of having a ship and nothing else. As someone with a severely underrepresented orientation (aromantic and asexual), when I see a character I like, I will project onto said character. This is the case with my interpretation of Meta Knight. I saw a cool character that I liked who a) doesn’t have any canon love interests and b) didn’t really need a whole ton of friends/significant others to be happy with life. Meta Knight always seemed to be perfectly content with the friends he has on Popstar and his crew and everyone in the anime, so I looked to him for hope that I could live the same way. I was open to the metadede ship at first, but as time passed, I felt less and less comfortable with it. It seemed to me that people were so hungry for gay ships that they just pulled this one out of thin air courtesy of Kirby Fighters 2, which is to my knowledge the only piece of media that somewhat supports this. Why can’t people just be happy with MK and Dedede being friends or frenemies? I’m probably starting drama with this bc I know how popular metadede is on Tumblr so I apologize for upsetting you if that is the case. But I also feel that I shouldn’t apologize just because I have a different opinion.

I dislike how "pathetic" the fandom has made him out to be. I don't like it when he's portrayed as overpowered but... "pathetic, whiny manlet" could not be further from the truth. How did we get to that?

Kirby

Often people make Kirby more dependent on others than he actually is. He's an extremely independent person that literally cannot be stopped by anyone who tries to get in his way

ik its been covered to death but matpat made that video about how kirby is evil and completely ignored the themes of friendship and kindness that are present throughout the entire series

dude hes not a baby. he drinks in the manga adukt kirbies are a fine interp god. and hes not a godkiller or some shit he just fights for his friends hes not some terrifying monster kirby is literally just some friendly guy. strong yeah but just some guy. he fights strong entities incidentally lol

The anime portrays them as a literal infant, and due to its overprevalence (despite not being in the same stream of canon as the games), this is often their characterization in the fandom. Canonically, they indeed are a child (at most, they'd probably be a teen in the modern games), but they are old enough to talk, and they demonstrate a high amount of emotional and even technical intelligence.

Admittedly, this is one that usually only happens to people outside the fandom, but it bugs me when people portray Kirby as a sort of immoral monster who only does good things on accident. When it’s quite the opposite! He may not be incredibly bright, but he does his best to help people. Oddly enough, there’s not many cases of “he would not say that” in the fandom for me because of how loose Kirby’s story is. It is lore heavy but the actual characters aren’t super concrete save for a few and I think that’s perfectly fine

People forget that their air bullet!! is an attack!! its literally one of their only ways of dealing damage in DL1!!! I’m looking at you Smash Bros!!! Why isn’t it their nair?????????

making them a toddler who cant speak for themself

I swear everyone outside of the fandom sees Kirby as either a braincell infant or a merciless force of mass destruction

Taranza

WHAT DIDN'T THEY DO!?!?!? Taranza, as we see him in Triple Deluxe, is such a fun villain. He's dramatic, arrogant, a total suck-up to Sectonia, and it's so. Fucking. Good. He's a devious bastard, he monologues!!! His animations in the Clash games are so fucking campy and dramatic it's chefs kiss!!!! Fanon Taranza is as plain as white bread. Sometimes as pale as it, looking at some of the gijinkas. No shade though! As little shade as there is melanin in him lmAO- He is flanderised to hell and back. There are so. Many. Fucking. Taranzas who happen to be nothing but sad and weepy about his evil dead wife. Where's the bite!!! The pizzazz!!! Even in canon, when he is a bit of a wet sack later on, he still hunts for an altar he can bring her back on. My boy's a wannabe necromancer!!! Write that shit in your lost lenore Sectonia fic you fucking cowards Queen's Phantom ain't just for show. The above is also evidence for woobification! The fucker is obviously sad his crush is dead! But can we pleeease focus on anything else. This is definitely not targeted at Hal Labs. Imagine being woobied so hard your creators backtrack your personality I would just die. "Ehehe he's the responsible mage!!" No the fuck he isn't he can't be trusted with anything he tries take control it WILL blow up in his face. He knows magic he's good at magic but is he responsible??? Fuck no my man's strongest attack is "Blow myself the fuck up via a giant burst of magic" and it shreds. Even worse is the "Taranza got mind-controlled by Sectonia" theory in tandem with this. That wasn't confirmed right. Right. God I hope not that would be embarrassing. He can't even have a moment to realise his devotion has gone too far and she doesn't love him or even care for him, and he has to finally make that decision to free himself from her like ain't that cool!!! And then making him all sad over her afterwards it's just a Little Fucked if you're tryna put it all together eh. Eh. And he's not suuuper objectified (That usually goes to Seccy rest in piss girlie) but the way he's treated in some ships is. Eugh. Fucking Magoranza amirite he's basically there to look responsible and cute (I've already explained my issue with this) and to fix the tortured soul who is Magolor (I do not like Magolor. Nor Magoranza.) Tbh Sectaranza does the same he's there to be tragic because his girlie's dead. When you give him less personality than the dead cardboard cutout you know you fucked up. Anyways these ramblings are here to remind you what Hal Labs stole from us: Taranza but not a TOTAL saddo. Theatre kid Taranza. Arrogant prick. He's even British.

For the anon above me, I just wanted to say that this entry is probably my favorite and lives rent free in my mind.

I'm definitely guilty of it and it's all we have to go off of but PLEASE he needs more than to be Sad. Give him hobbies and interests that aren't just gardening, at least. Make stuff up about him, please!

So, SO many people make him an absolute crybaby over Sectonia. Even though, yes, he has grief problems, it's not his whole freaking personality. Pretty sure they're forgetting the fact that he LITERALLY HELPED KILL HER.

Taranza is not just a little pathetic guy!! He’s a bitch— a little schemer if you will !!! He’s smug—he’s formal—he’s a little fucker!!! Taranza needs a new partner and that partner is me

Oddly enough I do think people make him out to be a bit too much of a goody two shoes. Like he has done some mean things in the past and it wasn’t all Sectonia’s fault, he literally *stole* the Dimensional Mirror after all. Don’t get me wrong I think he’s a good person in the end, but cmon. He has committed crimes

Taranza in some corners of the fandom has kinda been turned into this forever crying baby who can never recover from losing Joronia and like, I never see people who do that write about the recovery and being able to move on to the final stage of grief.

HE IS NOT A SIMP, MY GOD

Everyone needs to stop reducing him to pathetic simp. He is allowed to grieve but he's probably one of the more mature characters within the series???

People disregard everything else about his character to make his tragic relationship with sectonia his only character trait. Not sure if this quite counts as woobifying since he does canonically still mourn her (and obviously seeing a close friend/crush go down the path of self destruction and ultimately die from it WOULD NOT be something you'd get over quickly). But I'm so tired of taranza in fanart and the like being an uwu softboy with Crying as his main character trait. Like he's canonically more than that! He goes full cocky villain mode when you confront him near the end of triple deluxe and he can pack a punch in star allies with his magic! If you're going to write about him prove that you don't just know about the guy from twitter artwork!

And here’s a graph!

Anyways, thanks everyone for your submissions! What I’ve learned here is important: We’re all fucking delusional.

#I'm going to fist fight the Tumblr editor #Kine anon Ily #Kirby #Rambles #Long post

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jaeyunverse · 1 year

Text

love for sale (teaser)

PAIRING(S) | nishimura riki x fem!reader

GENRE(S) | fluff, angst, enemies to lovers, fake dating, prep school au

EST. WORD COUNT | i am not sure actually so i will say anywhere from 5k to 12k

WARNING(S) | profanity, prejudice, class discrimination + all warnings to be added in the full fic

SUMMARY | nishimura riki wants to piss off his mother and you need money to keep studying at clayton prep after your scholarship is under the threat of being terminated. it just so works out that you’re the exact kind of person his mom despises, and riki has more than enough money in his bank account to fund your education.

TAGLIST | permanent taglist + @1-800shutthefuckup @tyunni @songchan @yunjardi @woniewonwon @jennaissantes @luvkpopp @kimipxl @toeeater394737 @wzy3ka @wqstcrn @heetoldme send an ask or comment to be added!

AUTHOR’S NOTE | i don’t even know how long this wip has been catching dust in my docs LOOOL i am very excited to get started on it though! i hope u enjoy the teaser <3

Nishimura Riki was really starting to get on your nerves.

Normally, he was a person who couldn’t stop riling you up for his amusement. You tried to pretend he didn’t exist, but there was something about him that compelled you to shoot back with a jab of your own every time he taunted you.

Your life without his annoying presence would have been simpler, but overall, he was harmless.

However, his behaviour from the past few days was really starting to make you wonder if he had gone off the deep end and finally lost his mind.

“Leave me alone, Nishimura!” you snapped, tired from having to tell him the same thing over and over again. “I am not doing you the stupid favour.”

“I’m not asking for a favour!” he protested. “I’m willing to give you anything you want in return. This is a legitimate transaction involving give-and-take.”

“I don’t want shit from you and you’re an idiot to think of your proposed arrangement as a mere transaction.”

“You’re making a mistake, Y/N.”

“No,” you said, stopping in your tracks and turning to face him. “I would be making a mistake if I agreed to be your fake fucking girlfriend. How the hell did you even think to ask me that?”

Riki sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He glanced around your school hallway and grabbed your wrist, pulling you along to god-knew-where.

“Wha—” you began, but he cut you off.

“It’s too crowded here. We can’t discuss this matter in public under any circumstances.”

Scoffing, you snatched your arm back. He paused for a moment, watching you overtake him and walk ahead. When he didn’t follow, you glared at him over your shoulder.

Riki rolled his eyes and took long strides towards you. “Was that necessary?”

“Yes,” you replied sharply, not allowing him to walk beside you and making sure to stay a step ahead.

Perhaps, Clayton Prep’s snobbiness had rubbed off on you more than you’d suspected. Though you supposed it was bound to happen someday since you’d been surrounded by teenagers born with a diamond spoon in their mouth for the past few years.

Opening an inconspicuous door at the end of the hallway, you trudged inside and found yourself in an empty classroom. Nishimura Riki kicked the entrance shut behind him and turned to you.

“Look, I’m not happy to have this conversation over and over again either, but I need you. I don’t have a fucking choice.”

You snorted. “You need me? Pray tell.”

“My mom hates people who don’t have money and influence.”

“Oh, you could not be more wrong if you thought telling me this would convince me to help you.”

“I’m not done,” Riki snapped. “Just hear me out before you jump to conclusions.”

You raised an eyebrow and crossed your arms over your chest.

“My grandfather’s shares will be transferred to me once I turn 21 and she’s pissed I’m going to get control of the business instead of her,” he muttered and ran a hand through his hair. “I have no doubt about my mother’s love for me, but she has been dreaming about taking over the company ever since she was a kid. She can’t do that by herself anymore, so she’s going to try to do it through me by getting me to bend to her will. I can’t let her put a leash on me and start dictating my life.”

“If you think going out with me will send her a message, you’re an even bigger idiot than I thought you were,” you said and scoffed with disbelief. “You want her to back off, Nishimura? You better come up with something that doesn’t make you look like a spoiled brat rebelling against his mommy.”

“You don’t know my mother,” he growled. “She has always been prejudiced against poor people. Money and power are all she cares about, and I will not let her come after what belongs to me.”

“You know what?” you fumed and stomped towards him, jabbing your finger into his chest. “You’re an asshole. You came to me for help and you still had the audacity to humiliate me. Not to mention that your sob story makes you sound like a hypocrite who only cares about money too.”

“I don’t give a shit about the money. I care about keeping my grandfather’s legacy alive,” he bit back and took a step closer. “There’s a reason he was willing to give his inexperienced grandson his company rather than hand it over to his daughter.”

“Well, I don’t give a shit, Nishimura!” you shouted, throwing your hands in the air. “Deal with your goddamn problems by yourself. We’re done having this conversation.”

Shoving him away, you walked to the door and ripped it open. However, before you could leave, he said, “You’re here on scholarship, aren’t you?”

Freezing in your tracks, you turned around and narrowed your eyes at him. “What?”

“Sorry.” Riki laughed humourlessly. “That was a stupid question. I know you’re here on scholarship. Everyone does, and that’s because Clayton Prep isn’t known for charity.”

“You’re going to end up with a bloody face if you don’t watch what you say,” you warned, trying your best to keep the chain on your temper intact.

“Do you know why this school doesn’t offer scholarships, Y/N?” he inquired and slowly closed the distance between the two of you, unfazed by your threat. “It’s because my mother is a trustee on the board and prohibits financial aid.

“The only reason you were accepted is that my grandfather built this place from the ground up. He wanted you here because saw something special in you. He may have overruled her decision then, but he’s not here to keep protecting you now.”

The colour drained from your face and your heart dropped to your stomach. “Are you threatening me?”

“I’m giving a rundown on the facts and am offering you an opportunity,” Riki corrected. “I have more than enough money to pay for your entire education at Clayton Prep. You just have to say yes to helping me piss my mom off.”

You bit the inside of your cheek and stared at him, your hands curling into fists at your side. You couldn’t believe you’d been stupid enough to not predict what Mr. Nishimura’s death would have entailed for you.

Though, you didn’t blame yourself. The man had quite literally picked you from the streets and given you a shot at living a meaningful life. He’d gifted you a future, and you’d spent months grieving his passing.

You weren’t going to beat yourself up for not being a cold-hearted, selfish and conniving bitch.

But now that Riki had pointed out the glaringly obvious, you had to strongarm yourself. You couldn’t let his mother kick you out because you didn’t have the resources to study at Clayton Prep.

Besides, if there was one thing you were aware of without a doubt, it was your self-worth. You’d proved yourself to be smarter than every single student attending the school on several occasions.

Blowing out a breath, you closed the door. There was a gun to your head, and making a deal with Nishimura Riki was the only visible way to survive.

“What do you need me to do?”

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arithmonym · 2 months

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20 questions for 20 writers!

thanks to @accidentallyadorable for tagging me! this was fun. :3

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

30! only 20 are visible from my profile, though. my older fics and drabbles are quarantined to a separate account, and a few things are posted anonymously.

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

113,190 words.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

it’s mostly the locked tomb these days. i also have a few old works for the penumbra podcast, the magnus archives, and the adventure zone—and a few even older works for harry potter and percy jackson, but those are on ff.net so i can pretend they don’t exist.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

it’s familiar (but not too familiar) - fluffy griddlehark time travel fic. this was my first attempt at writing them and i could definitely do a better job now, but the prose still holds up.

alive, barely breathing - post-canon griddlehark first time fic that’s fucked-up and sad. sometimes i look at the comments when i want to feel good about my writing. :3

bring your hunger - post-canon griddlehark grief/relationship study. also a WIP. (honestly, this one might go on anon for a bit—it’s vulnerable in ways i don’t want to explain, and i’m shying away from writing the next chapter because the Fear of Being Known got to me a little.)

it’s not unusual - fluffy modern AU where team 69 go to a bar and play catan. palamedes has an oral fixation, because of course he does. this one is campal with background griddlehark getting-together, but i might write a sequel from harrow’s POV someday.

bad idea right? - modern AU chatfic inspired by this post by eskildit. it’s about camilla dealing with the paldulcie situationship™️ & enduring so much dyke drama thanks to the nature of her friend group. it received a podfic recently, which is fun!

(… i also want to write a camdulcie sequel for this one. i’ve been rotating the idea frequently.)

5. Do you respond to comments?

almost always. there are a few scattered comments i haven’t replied to yet, but i like responding! it’s an excuse to drop more lore about the fic and the writing process, IMO.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angiest ending?

the ace cam fic i haven’t finished yet, which will probably be posted on anon. (i feel like people are going to attack me for poor representation or something, but it’s inspired by my own experiences, so. can’t win them all. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯)

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

something sweet is pure, uncomplicated fluff, so i guess i’ll go with that!

8. Do you get hate on fics?

not really. i’ve blocked a few people for being rude, but i haven’t gotten hate in years.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

occasionally. i’ve only posted 4 explicit fics, but so far it’s a pretty even mix of f/f, f/m, and other.

10. Do you write crossovers?

i have a tlt/w359 fusion AU i want to pick up again! i need to untangle some threads of the metaplot, though.

(also, the first fic i published on ff.net was a harry potter/rise of the guardians crossover. yes. it was cringe. yes, it’s probably still posted on the internet if you want to find it.)

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

nope.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

yes, actually! a few of my old hp fics were translated into spanish or chinese.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

i wrote a round-robin fic with the campal server once. i also started co-writing a fic with quinn a while ago (before we both got busy with school) that i’d like to return to at some point, because the concept still makes me vibrate with glee.

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

i’m not sure that i have one, actually? i’m a multishipper to my core.

15. What's one WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

i have so many WIPs in my google docs that i’ll probably never finish.

i’d like to revisit my fic about necromancers & dysautonomia some day, but my writing style has changed so much since then. i might have to rewrite what i’ve posted.

16. What are your writing strengths?

i’m frequently complimented on my worldbuilding. i’m good at examining the implications of things that other people might not think about, so my plots are original even when i’m writing a fandom trope. (i can’t wait to post my harrow nova AU for this exact reason.)

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

sigh. pacing. i write from very close POVs, but sometimes i get too far into the character’s head, and it drags the story down. i’m trying to write sharper prose, but i’m going through an awkward growth phase as a writer—i know the structure i want, but it’s a struggle to get there concisely.

also, i over-edit instead of writing new words, which does me no favors.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

i guess it depends on context? i have a pretty good grasp on code-switching from being bilingual but not quite fluent, but the memory of that one klance fic haunts me.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

i mentioned my first published fic earlier, but the first fic i wrote was a percy jackson self-insert fic when i was twelve.

20. Favorite fic you've written?

indelible! cam and pal figure out that dulcinea isn’t who she says she is at the fifth’s anniversary party, but it doesn’t change anything. <3

///

tagging @harrowharkwife @friendamedes @cindthia @logicbutton @thewinterstale @sluggydrabbles & anyone else who wants to participate!

#there’s nothing like a tag meme to make me realize i know my friends’ ao3 handles much better than their tumblr usernames #m writes #m speaks #ask game #<- close enough

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writingraccoon · 2 months

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What's the tall varian anon? I gather it's something to do with Varian and the 7 Kingdoms, but what is bad about him being tall?

First of all, thank you for not making this ask anonymous, as if it was I would have assumed this was from the anon themselves. Answering this might get me a bit of attention from them but it's fine, I almost enjoy getting their unhinged hate asks.

Second: Varian, if you don’t know, is a character from the Tangled spinoff series, called Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure, or just Tangled: The Series. Varian was the fan favorite, and after the show ended, a few people who had worked on the show itself, namely Anna Lencioni and Kay Ritter, developed and pitched a Varian centric spinoff, called Varian and the seven kingdoms. This was rejected by Disney but quickly adopted pretty much as canon by much of the fandom.

If you want more details on it, I can link a post from a bit ago where I explained the plot to Hitch, but all that really matters is that the pitched series gave Varian a tall boyfriend named Hugo (you've probably seen him in art I've reblogged lol).

The Tall Varian Anon (TVA for the rest of this ask) emerged a few years ago, leaving nasty comments on ao3 fics and harassing people on Tumblr with anon asks, all focused on hurting the people who made Varian short in their fanworks. See, the thing about Varian is that in the canon show (he is 14-16 in the show and 18 in vat7k), he was the shortest character, not including the literal ten year olds. And, given that his love interest is very tall, it's generally accepted fact that Varian stays short.

Now, just having a different opinion would be fine. Even having a weird sex thing (which it is with this anon) about that opinion would be alright. But TVA is mean. They harass new artists, ask them to draw varian tall, (I've lost count of how many new artists I've had to tell that that anon expressing interest in their work is not a genuine supporter) and pretty much whenever anyone in the fandom posts about the TVA, they can expect a flood of hateful asks, usually the anon pretending that they don't exist, or asking who the TVA is(which is why if this ask was anonymous i would have figured it was them), I posted a joke post abt them recently and got no less than 7 asks from them, one of which was hilariously long.

However, possibly the most damning for the TVA, they are also extremely racist and antisemitic, having said racist and antisemitic slurs. Amusingly, a little bit ago, one of the more well known fic writers and Tumblr accounts in the fandom did some tech magic, got TVA to click on a link, and obtained TVA's IP address.

Sorry for the long reply, but you've stumbled upon some of the insane lore for the very small fandom that is Varian and the Seven Kingdoms, lol. I often make jokes about it, but it really is quite annoying at times.

#asks #vat7k #tall varian anon

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mumms-the-word · 4 months

Text

In Fathoms Below - Ch. 3

Ch. 3 - Expert in Gibberish

Characters: Gale, Karlach, Wyll, Lae'zel, Shadowheart, Astarion, Halsin, Minthara, Gortash + other OCs; pairing is Gale x fem!Tav Plot: The island city of Nautera disappeared over 4500 years ago, if it ever existed at all. Now not a single, legitimate record of Nautera exists, save for one. The Nauterran Account. Long thought lost, it has recently been retrieved from the depths of Candlekeep’s archives and placed into the capable hands of one Gale Dekarios. With the Nauterran Account in hand and an eclectic team of Baldurians and other allies mounting an official expedition, Gale journeys to find the ruins of Nautera…but hopes to find so much more. A/N: Kind of a slow chapter today, sorry friends. Also, today’s chapter touches on Gale’s history with Mystra, but I don’t want to pretend that my interpretation of the events here are at all Gale’s canon. BG3 doesn’t tell us when Gale was selected as a Chosen of Mystra or when he became lovers with Mystra. The year I picked is just something that worked for this fic. Remember, it’s all for fun!

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | BG3 Masterlist | Read on AO3

The view outside the windows of the submersible was an alluring gloom of wonder and mystery, eerily beautiful and unsettling. Moving through the depths felt a little like being suspended in a starless sky at twilight, when the night painted the world in shades of blue. Only this blue was much deeper and all-encompassing, stretching out in all directions, above and below. Every now and again, the shadowy crags of some undersea cliff would appear off to the side, just out of reach of the lights, blurry and indistinct, reminding Gale that he wasn’t suspended in an actual void; but otherwise, there wasn’t much to see. Just deep cerulean water, shadows of rocks, and the occasional school of silver fish darting out of the submersible’s path.

“We’re approaching two hundred fathoms below the surface, saer,” a gnome pilot said, watching the needles on a series of gauges.

“Very good,” Gortash said. “Level out and keep us moving east. I want to reach those trenches in less than a day.”

As Redhammer and the other pilots called out commands and responses, leveling out the submersible so that it no longer descended into the depths, Gortash turned his back on the view and clasped his hands together. “Now then, seeing as we’re well underway, I think it’s time we made plans. Gale, if you would join us?”

Gale, the other companions that he had met, and several more uniformed men and women he didn’t yet know gathered around the desk at the center of the room. By the time Gale had taken his place opposite Gortash, the desk and maps between them, they had a small audience of about thirty people, not counting the pilots still working around the perimeter of the helm.

“I trust you’ve had time to study that book, Gale?” Gortash asked, gesturing to the satchel that hung from Gale's shoulder and rested on his hip.

“Not as much as I’d like, but I haven’t ended my study yet,” he said, pulling the book from his satchel. He carefully opened the book, turning over the thick vellum pages until he landed on a break in the center. The right side was written in familiar draconic script, while the left page was written using more fluid, curling characters—Hamarfae, the script of the ancient elves. “The journal appears to have been written at two separate times, in two separate languages, though likely by the same author. The first half details the journey of a Netherese mage, an apprentice or colleague of the infamous Ioulaum of Netheril, as they arrived in Nautera before it sank beneath the waves. It breaks off abruptly about halfway through, however, and the second half picks up what appears to be decades later, with the mage attempting to locate Nautera beneath the sea. The first half can tell us much about the city before its descent, but the last half will lead us to where it is now. At least, theoretically.”

“So what’s the catch?” Wyll asked. “There has to be a catch.”

“Well, the last half is easy enough to read. It’s written in Loross, the language of the Netherese nobility and Netheril’s most esteemed scholars. Simple to translate, if you’ve studied it as I have. The issue lies with the first half of the book—it’s written in Seldruin.”

Minthara scoffed. “The dead language of faeries. How fitting."

Halsin flicked his gaze at Minthara, a frown briefly touching his lips, before focusing again on Gale. “The last sages who studied, read, or spoke Seldruin died out nearly two centuries ago. As far as I know, no one has made efforts to keep the knowledge of Seldruin alive since then. If you can make out even simple words, it would be more than impressive—it would be astounding.”

"Do you even need to?" Shadowheart asked. "The Netherese part has directions to where Nautera is now. The first half is just fluff in comparison."

Gale shook his head. "I disagree. The first half provides much-needed context for all the rest. And I can read some of it—the translation process is just a bit slow."

"You can already read Seldruin?" Haslin asked, looking astonished.

“Well, I’m hardly an expert in it, but I’ve managed to make some headway,” Gale said, unable to resist a bit of pride creeping into his voice. Cradling the book in one hand, he held up a finger as he began to explain, “And it’s actually quite simple. If you use the Loross as a kind of cipher, then look for loanwords between the two languages, identify the connections to archaic and modern Elven, keeping the different rules for conjugations and declensions and so forth in mind, you—”

He glanced up, in the middle of gesturing with his free hand, to find that most had confused or bored expressions. Karlach looked particularly lost and Minthara particularly uninterested. He cut himself off and cleared his throat. “You…ah, well, suffice it to say that I’ve been able to decipher several pages since obtaining the book. For example…”

He returned to the very first page of the journal and traced his finger along the first line of Seldruin, speaking the words aloud. A strange tingle, faint and almost imperceptible, buzzed at the back of his mind, and though the first words came out clunky and stilted, the rest of the sentence issued forth much more smoothly, as if he innately knew the language.

He paused. That had never happened before. But then again, this was the first time he’d tried to speak the Seldruin out loud.

He focused back on the text. “Roughly translated, it means, ‘I write this in the language of the Nauterrans, replicating their speech in the hopes that we might also learn to replicate their Art.’ I suspect our author began his account after he had arrived in the city. He must have been learning Seldruin from the Nauterrans.”

“Impressive,” Gortash said, yet his smile betrayed a different opinion. It was a smile like that of a patient adult viewing a child’s poorly drawn artwork rather than someone who had any real sense of the subject matter Gale was presenting. “But for now, what we require is not a lesson in linguistics, but a location to investigate. We don’t have enough resources to sweep the entire ocean floor for days without end.”

Gale tried to rein in some of his irritation. “Yes, well, that is where the second half of the journal comes in. Our nameless author appears to have tried to locate Nautera again, years after its disappearance. He discovered potential paths below the sea.”

“Ah, yes. Paths beginning here,” Lae’zel said, reaching over and pointing to an area of one of the charts, showing a series of trenches and crevices along the seabed.

He couldn’t help but be impressed. “Yes, precisely. How did you know?”

“The records of K’liir state that the last known entrance to Nautera lies in deep sea trenches east of Faerûn. These are the only trenches of any significance between Faerûn and Evermeet, according to your maps.” She looked a little smug as she straightened up. “Did you think we were merely wandering aimlessly through the sea?”

“How do your people know these trenches hold an entrance to Nautera?” Shadowheart asked, a bit of bratty petulance creeping into her tone. “Have they discovered the city already?”

“Of course not,” Lae’zel snapped. “But they discovered the remnants of ancient roads and bridges. The kind that would have connected Nautera to its sister cities on the other islands…or so it is believed. Somewhere in these trenches, there should be the ruins of two statues. No doubt built to ward off superstitious fools.”

“Or guide them to safe harbor,” Gale said. “According to the Nauterran Account, when Ioulaum and his fellow mages arrived, before the disappearance of the islands, they first saw twin statues that rose nearly one hundred meters above the water, flanking an entrance to a bay where ships could safely dock or anchor.”

He turned the pages of the book to show a sketch of the statues. They looked like two elven figures, though built in a less elegant style than most elven iconography these days. Their features were simple, their clothing little more than geometric designs across their bodies. Each held one hand up level with their chest, palms facing outward, with the other hand held flat before them, palms upward. A welcoming gesture, one that promised open-handed generosity and peace.

Gale laid the book on the table with the images of the statues visible for everyone to see. “When the author returned later, he found these statues broken and resting among the trenches. The entrance to the Underdark we’re looking for should be close by.”

He shot a surreptitious glance at Gortash, as if to say See? The Seldruin half is useful. But Gortash’s eyes were on the book on the table.

“So if we find these statues, we find the roads leading to Nautera,” he said.

“In theory, yes.”

“Is it just going to be lying at the bottom of the ocean?” Karlach asked, peering over Wyll’s shoulder. “The whole city?”

“No. It’s much more likely that it has been covered by rocks and other land formations and is somewhere in the Underdark now.”

“But if we’re approaching underwater, then wouldn’t the Underdark spaces be just as flooded with water as everywhere else?” Wyll asked. Across the desk from him, Minthara scoffed quietly, but it was Gale who continued to answer.

“Not quite,” he said. “According to this author, the curve and angle of the tunnels in the trenches are formed so that they should lead to an air pocket, and from there, into the Underdark. Think of it like this—the undersea tunnels function more or less the same way rudimentary plumbing functions.”

He reached for a piece of graphite and quickly sketched out a schematic of what he meant on a scrap piece of parchment, showing the curve of the tunnels and a simple bubble filled only partly with water.

Shadowheart turned her head to murmur to Karlach. “Wizard, linguist, plumber…hard to believe this guy is single.” Karlach snickered and Wyll, overhearing it as well, covered his mouth with his hand to hide his smile.

Gale tried to ignore her. “The point is, it’s been thousands of years since the islands disappeared, and Toril has seen a great deal of change since then. Not the least of which was the Spellplague and the Second Sundering.”

There was a kind of contemplative hush at the mention of the Second Sundering. The memory of it felt fresh, though it had begun almost a decade ago and ended four years ago. All of Toril had felt the effects of Ao’s sundering, rumored to have separated the world of Toril from the overlapping world of Abeir. Entire cities and civilizations vanished or blinked into existence, some of them all at once and others appearing slowly over time, as if the land were stretching a little each day. A number of wars and catastrophic natural disasters happened, like the Great Rain that lasted for days upon days, or various floating earthmotes crashing to the ground, or even a few stars falling from the sky. For most, the Sundering was no more noteworthy than the local war or strange event that happened nearby, but there were very few people who were left wholly unaffected.

Though Gale hadn’t experienced much of a physical difference in Waterdeep at the time, everyone at Blackstaff Academy was following the events closely, tracking changes around the world. It wasn’t just the physical landscape that was changing; the fabric of the Weave was reforming and repairing itself from the damage of the Spellplague. Gods thought long dead were returning, some of them physically walking on Toril and gathering new followers, new Chosen. It was during this time that Mystra, who had been slowly revealing herself to her followers by whispering into their thoughts and dreams, had finally returned in full force.

The same year that the Sundering had been completed, just over four years ago, was the same year that Mystra had unveiled herself to him and took him as her lover, after years of whispering the promise of it in his ears and making him one of her Chosen. He hadn’t even made it five years as her lover before mucking things up and falling from her grace.

He pushed those thoughts aside for now. His melancholy wouldn’t help them find Nautera.

“Regardless,” he said, breaking the silence. “The world has changed greatly since the disappearance of Nautera, so it should be no surprise that the city is now buried. If we can find those statues, we’ll find one of the oldest underwater entrances to get us to Nautera, taking us through the Underdark and, gods-willing, to the final resting place of the lost city.”

“Then it’s settled,” Gortash said. “Gale, Lae’zel, you two compare your notes and work with our navigators to narrow the search for the statues. The rest of you, be on standby. I want all eyes on the lookout when we approach those deep sea trenches.”

Gale ventured a glance at Lae’zel, expecting to find more hostility from the githyanki soldier, but she merely regarded him with a cool stare. As the others dispersed, some of them leaving the helm entirely, she crossed her arms.

“Well?” she asked. “Why do you stare at me so?”

“Oh, I—no reason. No reason at all.” He cleared his throat and pulled out the chair, gesturing for her to sit. “Why don’t we make ourselves comfortable? It may take some time to determine anything useful.”

She didn’t move a muscle. “I can stand.”

“Right…” Gale hesitated for a moment before giving in and taking the chair himself. “Then we’d best get started.”

While the pilots continued to work around the helm under the watchful gazes of Gortash and Minthara, Gale and Lae’zel worked with a couple of cartographers and navigators to work out a location to investigate. Karlach, Wyll, Shadowheart, and Halsin remained in the helm, sitting or standing near the windows to watch the undersea world drift along, sometimes engaging in conversation with one another and sometimes lapsing into thoughtful silence as the hours crawled by. Down here in the blue depths, Gale lost all sense of time, though he noted the waters getting darker and darker.

Although Lae’zel was reluctant to hand over the slates she had with her, she did show Gale how to identify separate words in tir’su and briefly explained how the written language operated. Between the journal’s account of the journey as it would have been 4500 years ago and the somewhat more recent githyanki’s explorations in the same area, they were able to narrow down a few possible areas on the maps as viable locations to search. They marked these on the map of the sea floor.

“It’s curious,” Gale said, as the navigator picked up the map they had marked and took it over to Gortash to consult with him. “Why would the githyanki be interested in an ancient elven city?”

“The githyanki are interested in many things,” Lae’zel said. “Not the least of which are powerful artifacts.”

“Ah. So you’re interested in the lost mythallar as well.”

Lae’zel frowned. “I said nothing about—”

She broke off at the sound of a commotion outside the helm. They and several others in the room turned to see three figures struggling just beyond the open metal doorway. Gale rose from his chair right as they burst into the room—two dark-clad drow soldiers and a pale, white-haired elf held firmly between them.

The elf struggled and bared his teeth, revealing two sharp fangs. “Unhand me you vile—” He stopped as he noticed his audience, his red eyes widening. “Ah…oh dear.”

“What is the meaning of this?” Gortash asked, handing back the map to his navigator. Minthara made a signal with her hand and one of the drow kicked the back of the pale elf’s knee, causing him to grunt and crumple. His knees hit the metal floor with a painful thud.

“A stowaway, Nightwarden,” the second drow said, ignoring Gortash to address Minthara. “We found him sneaking around the supply room.”

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #gale dekarios #gale #gale of waterdeep #my fic #bg3 fic #bg3 fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #in fathoms below #also i don't know nothing bout plumbing so don't come for me plumbers #its just a throwback to atlantis

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nekoannie-chan · 1 year

Text

Fractured

Title: Fractured.

Fandom: Marvel, X-men, Captain America.

Pairing: Brock Rumlow X Mutant!Reader.

Rating: Teen.

Word count: 682 words.

Warnings: Mention of characters death, interrogation.

Summary: You discovered Brock’s past.

A/N: This is my entry to @multifandom-lover, Annie-1018 & square 2:

"I used to be a sweet kid."

You can read it on Wattpad & Ao3 too.

@saiyanprincessswanie

My native language is Spanish so I wanna improve my writing skills in English if you notice any mistakes, please let me know and I will correct them.

I don’t give any kind of permission that my fics to be posted on other platforms or languages (I translate myself my work) or the use of my graphics (my dividers are included in this), I did them exclusively for my fics, please respect my work and don't steal it. There are some people here who make dividers that anyone can use, mine is not this type, please look for the other's people. The only exception is the ones I gifted 'cuz now belong to someone else. If you find any of my works on a different platform and are not one of my accounts, please let me know. Reblogs and comments are always welcome.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Marvel's characters (unfortunately), except for the original characters and the story.

Add yourself to my taglist here.

My other media where I publish: Ao3, Wattpad, ffnet, TikTok, Instagram, Twitter.

If you like it, please vote, comment, and give me feedback to improve my skills and reblog.

Tags: @sinceimetyou @unnuevosoltransformalarealidad @navybrat817 @angrythingstarlight @shield-agent78 @charmed-asylum @caplanbuckybarnes @hallecarey1 @nana1000night @talia-rumlow @mylifeispainandiloveit @writingshae @azulatodoryuga @chaoticcollectivenightmare @endlesstwanted @chemtrails-club @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @here4thefanfics @theestorm @patzammit

Brock kept the small locket with your photo; no one but him knew of the existence of that object. That day, maybe it would be his last mission, his last chance to see you. He had a feeling about what would happen, although he could not discern whether it would be good or bad.

He loves you, and he knew that you loved him too, but neither of us dared to take the first step, nor would he forget the look on your face when you discovered who he really was.

He cursed when Steve forced him into the vehicle; indeed, the mission had not gone as he had planned. He knew what would happen, but he would manage to escape.

He had always liked interrogations, but he preferred to carry them out and not be asked the questions himself.

He was sure that Rogers would be the one interrogating him, so he would do everything he could to make him mad and not get any answers. Steve had ruined his life.

Twenty minutes before the door opened, Brock settled into his seat, though he was suddenly confused when he saw you come in instead of Steve.

"It's been a long time," you said, looking at him.

"I can explain," Brock commented, pretending to be disinterested. He wasn't going to let you realize that you had surprised him; he was completely sure that Steve wouldn't miss the opportunity to get information from one of his enemies.

"What are you going to explain to me, Brock? Why were you trying to steal a highly dangerous substance? Or why were you part of HYDRA? " you scoffed.

"Whatever you want, although I guess you're more interested in knowing the former, I guess you're going to record it." Brock's voice sounded sarcastic.

"No one knows I'm here; in fact, no one suspects it, so no cameras," you commented.

Yes, you had used your powers for that; no one would notice that you were talking or anything that happened there. You could even be there for hours and they wouldn't notice it; in reality, it would only be less than a second.

"I know you like me," he said suddenly.

"You don't know anything, Brock."

"I know how you feel about me; I know what you thought about me that day; I saw everything in your eyes; I know too many things... "

"Don't try to be funny, Rumlow; I didn't come here to talk about that," "you said.

"I used to be a sweet kid."

"What? "

"I had a good childhood; my father was military, kind of strict, but still. You know, sometimes things happen for a reason; I didn't expect to be an orphan at sixteen."

"Did that make you what you are now? Is that how you justify everything you've done? "

"Not exactly, but that's how I ended up in the HYDRA facility."

Brock kept telling you everything that had happened in his life as you tried to decipher his intentions. In the end, he was right; you were in love with him, but you needed to know what his plan was. Anyway, it seemed like it was a forbidden love, but how many things hadn't you already done in hiding from the organization?

"Why are you telling me all this?"

"As soon as you said it, I realized, we're not in the cell at the base, are we?"

"Do you really care where we are?"

"No, of course, we could do other things," Brock suggested suggestively.

You smiled. They wouldn't do anything there, but somewhere else.

"Don't worry, I'll show you the plan later, but in the meantime, you must be ready; at any moment, I'll take you out of here," you told him.

Before Brock could say anything else, he was already alone in the room again; however, this time he was smiling. He was going to get out of there, and in the best way possible, with your help.

He looked up when he heard the door open again; this time it was Steve, so he smirked.

#multifandom-lover #brock rumlow #brock rumlow x reader #brockrumlow #brock fanfic #brock rumlow fanfiction #mcu brock rumlow #mcu crossbones

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literaryspinster · 6 months

Note

I’m on ch 3 of your limoreau fic and I’m struggling a bit with the decision to make Powerlad racist, why does every story about Black people have to involve racism as a plot device?

I don’t believe it does. I just made that specific choice because one of the big themes of that story (and The Boys itself) is toxic celebrity culture, and I wanted to convey that theme in a way that felt somewhat high stakes without getting into big conspiracy territory or putting Marie through what Starlight went through (or any other sort of physical violence).

A privileged celebrity having their problematic nature exposed, only for their fans and those in power to go out of their way to protect them, often at the expense of the less protected people in their orbit, is something I’ve witnessed online multiple times, and as a Black woman it’s exhausting to see. I can only imagine what that’s like for those more directly affected. That’s kind of what I wanted to explore with that plotline.

I also don’t think racism is a thing that just exists in media to make Black people feel like they can never escape it. It’s an actual part of our lives. I’ve been disrespected and hurt on account of my race, and while the fact that that’s happened doesn’t define me, or even figure into my day to day life as much as it once did, it is something I’ve felt the need to grapple with in various ways, including through writing. I also address queerphobia and sexism but racism is what I feel the most equipped to unpack because it’s what I’ve dealt with the most in my interactions with people (I’m a part of the queer community but quite straight-presenting, and am not a part of a profession or lifestyle that’s heavily associated with men or manliness, so sexism isn’t something I tend to feel on a visceral level).

Furthermore, I believe racism is one of the ‘isms that speculative fiction actually tends to be the shyest about. I’ve watched plenty of mainstream content where sexism is addressed repeatedly, meanwhile race is never commented on in any way in spite of the cast of characters being racially diverse (The Beauty and the Beast remake is the example that stands out the most to me). Or I’ve seen white women dealing with sexism and only Black men dealing with racism while the Black women in the story are just kind of there (i.e. Outlander, a show I could not finish in spite of all of the praise it received). Or some entirely fictional creature or concept is meant as the stand in for racism. I understand wanting to read about different things, but I do believe that there’s a middle ground between making our stories entirely about race and just pretending that it doesn’t exist.

All that being said. Fanfic is meant for escapism, I get that. I wasn’t trying to make anyone feel annoyed or let down or anything like that, I was just doing what I always do when I’m writing a fanfic that’s not a complete AU, playing in someone else’s sandbox with someone else’s toys. The Boys is all about satirizing topics like public bigotry (and yeah, it’s a Gen V fic but the point of it was to imagine them in The Seven so therefore on The Boys). I’m not always a fan of how they go about it, but I do appreciate its point of view a fair amount more than something like South Park, or even the show’s own source material. I doubt I would have stuck with it for three seasons if that wasn’t the case. So when writing for a show that frequently lampoons racists and other types of ridiculous people, the decisions made with Powerlad came pretty naturally. If I’d known I’d be disappointing people to this degree (you aren’t the first to comment on this) then I would have maybe gone in a different direction. To be honest the criticism has taken the wind out of my sails a bit.

In spite of everything, the rest of the story is planned out and partially written. Even though the fandom is understandably in a bad place right now, I hope the way everything plays out feels rewarding to people who choose to finish.

#limoreau #gen v #the boys #marie moreau #i didn’t mean to write a whole novel 😅#fanfic

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usmsgutterson · 2 years

Note

happy fall!

you’re laying waste to halloween

can i request a nikolai x reader enemies to lovers fic, please? she/her pronouns for the reader :D

maybe one where the reader is a kaelish princess whose family is searching for suitors for her, and nikolai just so happens to be a potential suitor. similar vibes to when they held a ball in king of scars to find nikolai a wife, but its for a kaelish princess! :D

i think it'd be cool if the reader befriended zoya, who tries to get the reader and nikolai to get along. i love the dynamic where one of them's a tease (nikolai) and the other (reader) pretends to hate it, but secretly gets butterflies every time. eventually, they begin tolerating eachother and end up confessing to another. (cue zoya emerging from the corner screaming "i knew it!")

i don't mind how long you make the fic, but i do prefer long ones :]

have a great day!

-velvetarcane

The Ravkan Gardens- Nikolai Lantsov

Okay, hi!! I'm sorry that this took me ages to write out, but I hope you enjoy it as it is! Also, forgive me if the enemies to lovers isn't my best work, it's the first time I've written out the enemies to lovers trope in the context of a fic that was a large one-parter rather than a slowburn multi-parter.

I did do it a bit differently to how you'd requested (the only difference being that, instead of a ball, Nikolai sends out an invite for the reader to stay for two weeks as a sort of like, compatibility test thing? I came up with the concept when I was tired so forgive me if it doesn't make much sense) and I did it in second person because that’s just how my brain defaults to writing requests a lot of the time, but if you want me to rewrite and put it in third, please don’t be afraid to reach out and let me know!

Anyway, thank you so much for sending this in, and though this isn't my longest fic on this account, it's certainly up there with the longest for Nikolai (it caps at 4.3k words) and I really do hope you enjoy!

Fic type- fluff

Warnings- mentions of alcohol (wine and champagne, specifically)

DAY 4/14

Nikolai Lantsov was tall, incredibly handsome, and, in general, a man excellent in the art of charming others, but for some reason, as you took every meal with him, interacted with him more than thrice daily, and generally tried to find something about him that you could’ve liked, it seemed you were almost resistant to those charms.

It wasn’t anything particular about him that you hated—or, anything you could place a finger on—and it seemed that you just weren’t the kind of person who could much like the kind of person he was. He was a charmer, someone who knew exactly what to say all the time, and as much as you wanted to like that, you couldn’t find it in yourself to manage it.

“You’re here for ten more days, Y/N. May as well try to make them a bit more worthwhile,” Zoya said as the two of you walked through the corridors of the Little Palace, heading for the gardens.

You’d been in Ravka of your own volitions, staying there to see if there was any chance yourself and Nikolai could ever be compatible. It felt like something out of some cheesy, royal era romance novel, but if it were truly a romance, wouldn’t the circumstances be better? Wouldn’t yourself and Nikolai be interacting because you enjoyed one anothers company, not because there was the underlying truth that you were both in need of a spouse?

Ravka needed a queen, and you needed an escape from the Wandering Isle, from the place that you hesitantly called home. It seemed like good enough reason to stay in Ravka for two weeks, but four days into your stay, you were regretting having accepted the—largely random—invite at all.

“I’m thinking about going home early,” you said. “Nikolai clearly can’t stand me, and I don’t want to exist wherein my presence is not welcome.”

“The idea to invite you here was his, not mine,” Zoya said as you walked. “Rumors of the replacement of the heir in the Wandering Isle have become rather rampant lately. He figured you could use a break from constantly being told you needed to find someone willing to propose, so he invited you here under the guise of an attempt at courtship.”

“The future king of Ravka invited me to his palace with the intent of giving me a kind of vacation?” You asked, momentarily rethinking all of your prior assumptions, the ones you’d gathered over the days you’d stayed at the Little Palace. “I feel the need to thank him now, I must admit.”

“He also looked at a photograph taken of you during this past summer,” Zoya said. “I presented it to him when trying to find a way to set him up with someone. I think you’re about the only woman he’s ever called beautiful without trying to be a charmer for one reason or the next. Give him a chance, Y/N. You might come to not regret it.”

“I’m here for another ten days,” you said as finally, the gardens came into view. “I’ll do my best, Nazyalensky. For you, if for nobody else.”

Zoya grinned. “If you hate him by this time next week, we’ll drink to it,” she said. “The kitchens have delightful wine.”

“Thank you,” you said with a grateful smile. Genya approached, whisking Zoya away and leaving you to observe the gardens alone.

You stood, idle as you took note of the flowers that were blooming, the apple trees with leaves that rustled in the wind. The view of the gardens was one you would’ve been content to stare at forever, the view itself likely being the only reason you would allow yourself to stay as long as you’d been invited to.

“The gardens are beautiful in their aestheticism,” came the voice of the blonde you’d come to dislike. “If you’ve got a talent for art, I have no doubt that this view on a canvas will go for at least ten or twenty thousand. I’ve seen the versions of it less grounded in realism sell for more than that.”

“And you think a piece depicting exactly what it is meant to look like will, perhaps, go for less?”

“I do,” Nikolai said. “Though, to be fair, I’ve barely known you long enough to form an emotion other than dislike and mild hatred, so I don’t know. I don’t even know if you’re talented in the realms of art.”

“I am not a painter, no,” you said. “You’re right in that.”

“I think you don’t want to be here,” Nikolai continued. “That you’re here because you need a husband just as much as I need a wife, and that if I propose, no matter how much you hate me, you’ll say yes for the good of the Ravkan people.”

“Ah, look at that! You’re correct again,” you said. “I would accept a proposal from you, Lantsov. I would do so to get out of the dreadful place that I call home, if for no other reason.”

“Have you seen the libraries?” Nikolai asked. “I’ve noticed you love to read.”

“Trying to be civil?”

“I can only realize what kind of person you are if civility is something which I decide to give a shot,” Nikolai said. “Getting to know you is my end goal, Ms. L/N. If I jump straight onto the wagon of hatred, we both end up stranded, and that is the last thing that my kingdom needs.”

“I make no guarantees that civility is something at which I will excel.”

“As I look at you now, there are a thousand different insults that come to mind,” Nikolai said. “However, I will not say a word of them. No more insults or jabs. Not from me.”

You said nothing, did nothing, just turned your gaze back to the garden, trying to look for every single one of the details you hadn’t noticed in your mere glimpse. Nikolai stayed with you, standing a few feet off to your right, the two of you watching the garden in silence.

Later, you found yourself in the library, sat in a far off corner with just enough light to allow you to read without difficulty. You were reading a book of sonnets recommended to you by Tolya. The book was called ‘To Love In Spring’ and every single poem was written in old Ravkan.

“Making yourself comfortable?” Nikolai asked as he walked down a row of bookshelves, finding you sitting and reading at the end of them. “You do look a fair bit like you’re in your element here, Y/N.”

“And you look quite so like you’re entirely out of yours,” you said, the quip falling from your lips before you could’ve thought about it. In response, you got a laugh.

“Oh, you wound me,” he said. “Your words cut deep, darling.”

“That’s entirely my goal, Lantsov,” you said, successfully ignoring the butterflies that came to light in your stomach with the use of the nickname.

“Well, it’s not quite working,” Nikolai said with a grin. “I find myself too enamoured by your gorgeousness to be too hurt by the words you use as weaponry.”

“You and your silly little compliments,” you said, once again unable to think before the words had fallen from your lips. “I don’t need, nor do I want, your flattery. I just would like to spend the days I have here as usefully as possible.”

“Is getting to know me not useful to you?”

“To be honest, I don’t think it is.”

“Again, Y/N, you wound me,” but he was smirking as he spoke, running a hand through blonde hair. “How about this: any time in which you decide you hate me less, come seek me out. We’ll learn about each other, see if the hatred that exists now is really as necessary as we clearly think it to be.”

You paused for a moment, thinking about the proposition. Getting to know Nikolai, see beyond his blonde hair and his charm and the fact that he normally seemed quite capable of saying the right thing at the right time, it might not have been something you particularly expected to happen often. It was something you expected to occur rarely, for in the four days you’d been there, you hadn’t hated him any more or any less than you had when you’d arrived and gotten a good look at him, a sense of who he was.

“All right, then,” you said. “You won’t be seeing much of me outside of the meals we’ll take together, though.”

“I’m going into this expecting not to see you outside of those times at all,” Nikolai said. He turned on his feet. “Enjoy your book, darling. I’m not much for poetry, but right now, I could be possibly be convinced to read a few pages.”

“Old Ravkan works, that can be found in the classics section, are quite wonderful.”

“Familiarized yourself with the library already?”

“I’ve only looked where it’s mattered,” you said. Nikolai walked off with that, and for some reason, you couldn’t pull your eyes away.

DAY 7/14

“My favorite color is dark blue,” Nikolai said. It was morning and you were standing in view of the garden, sleeves of the beige sweater you wore rolled up to your elbows, mug of your hot drink of choice tucked into your hands. “Or, the space between dark and light, I should say. Not so light that it is pastel, but not so dark that it’s navy.”

“Space blue?” You asked. “I’ve noticed you wearing a muted version of that color a lot. It suits you, Nik.”

“We’re using nicknames now?”

And, with the way that he points it out and you realize you’ve used a nickname for him, you pause.

“No,” you said after a moment. “It was a one time thing.”

“That’s disappointing, then. I usually hate nicknames.”

“Space blue is your favorite color?” You asked, desperate for a change in the subject and for anything to take your mind off of the embarrassment of having called the man who you’d convinced yourself you weren’t falling for a nickname, let alone one that he said he didn’t hate.

“Yep.”

“My first memory from when I was a kid was running in the palaces,” since it had been made, the deal had changed a bit. Nobody sought anybody out, most of your meetings were by chance. If Nikolai found you, he gave away a small piece of himself, a favorite color, a favorite season. You gave something like a childhood anecdote, a fact about yourself that nobody else knew, and vice versa.

You laughed as you recalled it. “Those palaces, the endless corridors, the vast windows, they used to be my favorite thing growing up. I wanted to learn every room, every place where I could hide when I didn’t want to be found. At twenty-three, I have learned every place in the palaces like the back of my hand, and most days all I want to do is escape them.”

“So why haven’t you?”

“I have yet to find good enough reason to go,” you said. “I’ve had my life threatened when I explained that I wanted to abdicate.”

“So do it,” Nikolai said. “Write a letter of abdication, and stay in Ravka.”

The words as he spoke them almost made you laugh. “Where would I stay, Nik?” There it was again. The stupid nickname that you’d claimed to be a one time thing the first time—though it was such, really.—but, if Nikolai was listening, he definitely assumed that it was more.

“As I’ve gotten to know you, darling, you seem less and less terrible by the day,” he said. “The room here, if you do not marry me but end up abdicating, will always be yours.”

“I appreciate your kindness,” you said. “I shall take it into consideration, Nik.”

“That nickname is going to stick around, innit?” You finally turned, met his gaze, as you brought the mug to your lips and sipped from it. “I really can’t say I hate it.”

“If David used it, would you react the same?”

Nikolai laughed as he thought about your question. “Most likely not, no,” he said.

You began to turn, intending to head back up to your room. You were about a third of the way down the first of many halls when finally, you heard Nikolais voice.

“Three days now,” he called. “I’m not so terrible, am I?”

The question, though clearly both question and quip, was enough to make you laugh.

“Perhaps not, Lantsov,” you said. “We have one more week together. Ask me then.”

“My mother used to say I was infected by wanderlust,” you said with a slight smile as Zoya tipped a book off the shelves in the library. “I always wanted to leave, to go somewhere. I never really got much of a chance.”

“Did she ever realize you don’t want to wander, you just simply want to leave?” You leaned against the shelf, opening the book you’d grabbed whilst glimpsing the classics section.

“I imagine she’ll figure it out when I go back with all of my exciting tales to tell.”

“Oh, yeah,” Zoya said, nodding with her agreement. “All of the details of the garden, at which you looked longingly for hours will be so much fun to regale, Y/N.”

“The books I’ve read will also be mentioned, and the food, and the company,” you said pointedly. “The hours spent looking at the garden will mostly be left out of it.”

Zoya laughed, eyes scanning the cover of the book she’d grabbed before she put it back disinterestedly.

“Wise choice,” she said. “You’ve got one more week here. Are you excited to go back?”

“I’m heading into the city for a week after I leave here,” you said. “I need to think about things, and I need to do it without the prying eyes of the observers, staring at me whilst they try to dissect my every thought. Nobody has ever really seen my face, either, so I’ll go without being recognized while I’m there.”

Zoya looked at you, quirking a brow. “My my, has Nikolai given you something to ponder?”

You grinned, feeling almost a little defeated. “He’s different,” you said. “Different than I thought he would be, is all.”

“You’ve given up on hating him?”

“I still hate him, just less than I did three days ago,” you said. “He’s sensible. Goodwilled, strong. He seems like he cares about the people here, and I just find it a tad bit admirable, is all.”

“So, I was right, is what I’m hearing?”

“Not yet, Nazyalensky,” you said. “I’m learning what about him there is to like, not falling head over heels.” At that point, though, you could’ve guessed that you’d be romantically inclined toward Nikolai by the end of your stay.

“You will,” Zoya said with a teasing sort of grin as she pulled another book from the shelf. “In five days, at least, I’ll be telling you that I told you so.”

You laughed again as she read the cover, deciding to keep that book on her person.

“Thank you for staying,” Zoya said after a long moment of silence has passed. “You could’ve left when you decided you hated him, but you didn’t. Thank you for that, seriously.”

“Your company has made it the most worthwhile so far,” and the views, of course. The food, the excellent wine, the books that lined the shelves of the library and the scent of the roses in the garden. All of it made for a worthwhile stay, but Zoya was what made staying seem like the most logical decision. The truth may have been that you hardly knew her, but even as such, Zoya had become a fast friend, someone you would’ve hated losing. “Seriously. Thank you.”

“I’m glad I could assist in keeping you around,” Zoya said as she opened the book, reading the dedication and skipping the table of contents to get to the first chapter. “I do hope that you’ll find it in yourself not to hate him.”

“I’m learning what about him there is to like. If I do go without the intent of coming back, I promise to write.”

“And I promise to respond,” Zoya said, the two of you lapsing into a comfortable silence thereafter.

DAY 10/14

“I’ve never quite been able to pick a favorite time of day,” you said as you approached. Nikolai was facing a window in a common room within the depths of the Little Palace, hands leaning against the ledge as he looked out on the view from the second floor. You could’ve laughed as you realized that he was brooding, but you didn’t.

“Some days, I wake up early enough to see both sunrise and sunset. Other times, I particularly love the afternoon, when the sun is right overhead. I tend to gravitate towards the evenings, lately. In the past six days, I’ve found myself most at peace after the sun has set, when I can escape the Little Palace for a bit. Did you know that, when you escape the cities, the crowded streetways and the houses that’re lit up like trees at Christmas, you can actually see the stars? On nights where you’re lucky enough, you get glimpses of the other planets that exist within our solar system.”

“That’s the reason I haven’t been able to find you past eleven?” Nikolai asked.

“I go out with Tolya, Tamar, Nadia, Zoya, Genya and David. Every other day. You should come, we’re going tonight.”

“My favorite time of the day is the morning,” Nikolai said. “Everything feels so spry then. I feel ready to get on with my day. Nights always leave me feeling a little empty. I’ve never much been good at handling too much quiet.” You walked up to him, standing to his right. Carefully, you moved an arm so that it was within the same space as one of his. If Nikolai moved his hand just a bit to the left, he would be able to take yours if it was something he so pleased to do.

“Nights won’t feel so lonely if you spend them with the right people, my lovely enemy,” you said. He didn’t look at you, but when you rested your head against his shoulder, he did not move away.

He rested his cheek against the top of your head, neither of you saying a word as he did.

“Do you still hate me?” Nikolai asked.

“A lot less than I used to,” you said. “Let me guess, when you look at me, your heart and mind fill with nothing other than sheer resentment?”

He took your hand in his as he laughed, eyes still on the view of the gardens, apple trees rustling with the wind.

“Not exactly,” he said.

The two of you stood, in relative silence, watching the garden together, much like things had been almost a week before, except the hatred you felt for one another was largely gone, having been replaced by the starts of romance.

Nikolai found you a fair bit later, as the sun was setting and you were standing in the middle of the garden, book in hand. You were completely enthralled in it, and even though speaking was his first instinct—the act of revealing a small part to himself, one of many things that made him who he was—having almost become reflexive after nearly a week, he stopped himself. He merely leaned against the door, content to just watch.

As he did, he found that he was completely enamoured, just as he’d been when Zoya had dropped your photo onto his desk. You were naturally beautiful, a woman who everyone was jealous of. How Nikolai had hated you upon your meet ten days before was something that almost became a bit of a mystery to him as he looked at you, watched you run a hand through your hair as the breeze picked up, seeming to move around you in an almost perfect arc of wind.

“I can feel you staring at me, Lantsov,” you said. Nikolai almost flinched, having been caught off guard, but managed to maintain most of his composure. “Are you ever going to allow words to leave your lips?”

“You leave me speechless,” Nikolai said, turning on the charm before he can even think to do otherwise. “Though, with how beautiful you are, how any man who looks at you isn’t also rendered speechless is an absolute mystery to me.”

“I do not look beautiful,” you said. “Not right now, anyway.” You were wearing a dark maroon shirt with a black skirt, hair styled as it normally was, and between the fact that there wasn’t a day Nikolai had seen you looking anything less than gorgeous, and the fact that he’d let you into his heart, he realized he could’ve been happy to die right there, as he was.

“You do,” he said. “You look absolutely incredible.”

You grinned, and yeah. Nikolai was done for. He absolutely could’ve died happy in that moment.

He stepped forward as you closed the book, objecting to merely hold it at your side.

Eventually, you were standing close, your hand against the side of his face, one of his hands on your waist, the other resting at the bottom of your cheek and on your neck.

“Your company is not nearly as terrible as I presumed it would remain ten days ago.”

He gave you a grin, asked if he could kiss you, and when you said yes, he did.

As he felt your lips against his, he felt, for the first time in a while, the monster as it grew quiet, seemed to step away, and Nikolai felt well and truly happy.

When you pulled away, you pressed your forehead against his.

Neither of you had perfect lives, just moments wherein they felt perfect, but it was something neither of you minded.

DAY 12/14

“I knew it!” Zoya shouted as Nikolai pulled away from you, your hands still remaining entwined as the moment you were sharing was interrupted. You were in a common room, having thought yourselves mostly alone, the conversation you’d been having only having been interrupted by a kiss for a split second, though it was one Zoya, Genya, and Tamar had happened to walk in on. “I fucking knew it!”

The common room you were standing in was the one you’d been in in the days before, the one on the second floor with the view of the gardens, walls painted the colors of the royal emblem, light flowing through the window naturally.

“Well, Tolya officially owes me quite the pretty penny,” Tamar said. “Congrats, you two. When did it happen?”

“It’s happened gradually over the past week,” Nikolai said.

“Your first kiss happened five days ago, and you didn’t tell me?” Zoya asked. You shook your head.

“It happened two days ago,” you said. “I guess it slipped my mind.” You shrugged, giving Nikolais hand a squeeze. He squeezed your hand in return as you adjusted, hand slipping from yours a moment later, in favor of an arm wrapped around your shoulder.

“Slipped your mind?” Genya asked. “You both realize this means we have a wedding to plan?”

“Not for another quarter,” Nikolai said. “Saints, Genya. You’re getting too far ahead. I haven’t even thought of proposing yet, and if I do, it won’t be until December. A proposal always tends to go over better during the Christmas season.”

“Or you could propose at the end of this month and we could do a December wedding,” Zoya suggested. “It’s the beginning of October. A month of courtship, a proposal, and then you get another two months of courtship before the wedding.”

“Don’t get too far ahead of yourselves,” you cautioned. “We’re taking it slow.”

“A June wedding could be lovely,” Tamar said. “The weather is warm, lots of guests could come, and a coronation to have Y/N in the palaces as queen could be a lot easier to do around the spring or the summer, I would assume.”

“I’ll start planning the wedding in December,” Genya said. “Zoya, Y/N, you help me every step of the way. Promise it.” She looped her elbow through Zoyas, running a hand through vibrant red hair as she did.

Your gaze met Zoyas, and the both of you burst into laughter as Nikolai pressed a kiss to the side of your head.

“Deal,” you said.

“Promise,” said Zoya.

“Tonight, with dinner, we’ll have champagne,” Tamar said. “In celebration of the happy couple, of course.”

You wrapped an arm around Nikolais waste, leaning up and pressing a kiss to his jawline as you did.

“In celebration,” you said, Nikolai nodding his agreement.

It was odd, really. Twelve days before, you’d hardly expected to have anything to celebrate, and yet there you were, with a relationship and potentially a marriage.

AUGUST

You grinned as you caught sight once more of the ring on your finger. It was something you hadn’t gotten used to, even though it’d been two months since the wedding, since your coronation.

“You look wonderful, as always,” Nikolai said as he entered the room you shared. You were in bed, book in your lap, just as it’d been since that afternoon. It’d been a book given to you at the recommendation of Tamar, a fantasy novel that was an absolute page turner. “I’m relieved, personally, that we finally have a chance for a moment away.”

“A trip to Novyi Zem sounds wonderful about now,” you said as he pressed a kiss to your cheek. “I’m thrilled about it, really. Being a queen is a lot more than I expected.”

“Well, for the next two weeks, queenly duties be damned,” he said, acknowledging the trip you’d leave for early the following morning. “I love you, my dearest wife.”

“And I you, dearest husband,” Nikolai joined you in bed as you dimmed the reading light you’d been using, eventually putting the book down and falling asleep next to him, just as you’d done since before your wedding, with every bone in your body overflowing with content.

#nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov x reader #shadow and bone

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romanarose · 2 years

Text

Leather and Lace: Chapter 5

Santiago "Pope" Garcia X Fem!OC

Pervious chapter here : Next chapter

Fic master list

A/N: I'm so sorry this is just long as hell. I couldn't find a natural end and there was so much I wanted to include. Sorry it took so long. Hopefully a new chatper of Sunshine Starlight Sweetheart Brightside will be out this week.

The hat scene is based on a post by @copingchaos and @welcometostayingawake which I will link in at the scene, be sure to give the post a like and reblog!

Final A/N: I want to make a masterlist for this fic but I wanna have some nice art or something for it sooooo if anyone wanna draw something or make a mood board or something for this, I’ll include it in the masterlist and tag/link ur account and any pages you use for your art! Anything sent will be included, even little doodles so don’t be embarrassed!

Chapter Summary: We see Santi and Will's side of the argument when they went inside. Santi and Laci find a special time just for them and have a moment. Laci babysits Rosie will the guys have drinks.

******************

“Do you have ANY IDEA how close you came to dying, Pope? It’s a goddamn miracle you didn’t get your head blasted open! You and Ben could’ve died! Then what? Do we spit up the money again and give it to your non-existent family and pretend it’s okay? If Ben died, would you just give me a pat on the back and say ‘Oh, sorry!’ and move on?”

Pope couldn’t sleep. The day had riled him up too much. Him and Will, after Frankie chewed them out, had gone to the kitchen. Santi hated leaving her out on the porch. Hated more how jealous he felt of Benny. But he didn’t want to test Frankie’s patience.

“Is that what this is all about, Will?” Santi crossed him arms at his friend. “Jesus, go to therapy.”

“I don’t need therapy, I need to stop watching my friends get shot!”

“Will you shut up? Frankie is going to fucking kill us as it is.” There was a long, pregnant silence. “Listen, I’m sorry Ben got shot. You know I’m sorry. But Ben agreed with me, he said I should’ve stayed with her… Maybe you should-”

“Don’t tell me to take time out of the field, Pope.”

Santi raised his hands in defense. “Okay, okay. But I think we’re all going to maybe take some time off, Frakie wants to spend time with Rosie, Ben’s got physical therapy-”

“You’ve got the girl. Who you want to spend time with” He crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow.

Pope rolled his eyes. “Can you stop being shitty about Laci? I’m trying to help her”

“Oh please” He countered. “You have way past doing your job. You got a thing for her, even if you won’t admit it.”

“She needs help, Will”

“You saved her life, you were supposed to bring her back to the embassy, and be done. Have you ever stopped to consider you are overstepping? Have you ever considered that maybe there's a reason soldiers aren’t supposed to take back trafficking victims to play house?”

Santi shook his head. He had considered that, of course. “That’s not what's happening here.”

“Are you telling me you wouldn’t fuck her if you had the chance?” Will challenged.

Santi pinched the bridge of his nose. “We’re getting off topic here.” He diverted. “We’re here because you’re being a dick to her”

There was a pause and Santi watched a boatload of emotions dance across Will’s face as he searched for a smart ass answer. When nothing came, he simply agreed. “I know.”

“Then why are you being like this? I know you know damn well this isn’t her fault, and knowing you, you are going to start feeling really shitty about how you treated her.”

Will groaned dramatically. “I don’t know man! I know I can’t blame her for what happened but my subconscious does anyway.”

Santiago’s lips smirked up a bit at that. “Subconscious, huh? You sure you haven't been the therapy?”

Will flicked Santi’s head. “No, I took psych in high school.”

“Nerd.”

The men stood in silence, feeling better but also not feeling like everything had been spoken.

Will broke the silence again. “I’m sorry for how I’ve been. I just… I can’t help it sometimes.”

Santi knew he was sincere, but he also knew he had a duty to her. “Well you’re going to have to help it, man.” Santi crossed his arms. “Because for the time being, she’s going to be here, and if you want to be around me, you’ll have to be around her. And if you’re going to be around us, you’re going to have to be nice, because I’m not putting up with it anymore.”

Will closed his eyes “I know.”

“That girl has been kidnapped, raped, beaten, and god knows what else this last year, I’m not letting her put up with you bullshit too.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” Will opened his eyes to look at Santi. He knew the protectiveness his friend felt over the girl was partially due to the loss of his sister, but he couldn’t help but feel there was another attachment here.

“Don’t say sorry to me, say sorry to her.” He nodded out the door.

Will gave a short laugh. “You gonna leave me alone with her long enough to apologize?”

“If you promise to behave.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah” Will headed for the door.

Laci said things were good, that they’d made it. She didn’t go into details and he didn’t ask. That was their business. But right now, he couldn’t sleep. It wasn’t abnormal, he didn’t sleep a lot. Right now, all he could think of was Tom’s head with blood oozing out. Santi shook his head like an etch-a-scetch, and stood up to get some food. Unsurprisingly, Laci was up watching Friends.

He popped back into his room to pull shorts over his boxers and a white tee shirt, mumbling. “Even’n Lace.” As he rubbed his eyes, walking behind the couch in the living room. Lace turned around, hopping up on her legs, looking over the couch. He sees the movement, and looks over to find her eyes following him. He could swear she was looking at his butt. He smirked at her “Need something?”

Her eyes flicked up to his, embarrassed at having been caught, she turned back to the tv and sat down.

“Ah, c’mon Munacita, I’m only teasing.” He waited until she glanced back at him. “You hungry”

She shrugged and smiled. ‘I could eat’

Santi heated up some pizza rolls, and brought a plate over to her. “Bon appetit, mademuasel.”

She grinned at him as she accepted the plate.

“G’night” Santiago began walking back to his room with his plate.

“Santiago?” She called after him, causing him to turn around.

“Yes?”

She nodded over to the seat next to her on the couch, and raised her eyebrows. ‘Join me?’

Santi knew damn well this was a slippery slope. He knew, really, that he shouldn't be indulging her in her little flirts. But she looked at him with her big hopefully eyes, how could he deny her like that? “Yeah, sure Lace” He sat down at the other end of the couch. “But we aren’t watching Friends.”

Laci grinned at him, bouncing over to sit next to him and handing him the remote. “Well you can’t sleep…” She spoke softly. “What do you watch?”

Santi was thankful for the dim lights, he was sure his embarrassment would show. “I um… it’s kinda silly”

She nudged him, urging him on.

“I like to watch old sitcoms”

Laci laughed at this. She smiled, shaking her head ‘That’s not silly’ She pointed at Friends still on the TV.

“Friends isn’t old!” Santiago insisted, suddenly very aware of their age gap, making him feel even more ashamed of the thoughts that had been creeping into his head.

She gave him a pointed look. “It’s older than me.”

Fuck, that made him feel old. “I meant, really old sitcoms. Dick Van Dyke, I love Lucy.”

She nodded to the TV while nuzzling up next to him. “Relax.” She told him, and he tried.

A few hours later, he wondered how he got there. How had Santi ended up laying down, stretched out on the couch, with Laci asleep in his arms?

That’s how they found themselves more nights than not. Santiago would join Laci on the couch, and slowly their bodies would come together, and she’d fall asleep in his arms in various entanglements. There was something natural in it. There was a bit of desire on Santi’s part, how could he not, with a party blonde girl in his arms?

When she woke up the first morning, Laci smiled at him. She looked at Santi like they were lovers waking up on a lazy Sunday morning. Laci climbed off of him as he stood up. Santi’s thoughts were racing. Why did he do that? Why did he let her lay on him? Why did he wrap his arms around her? Why didn't he get up? But when he looked at her all sleepy and smiling at him, he couldn’t find it to feel as guilty as he should’ve.

She looked at him, touching her back.

“Does your back hurt?” He asked

She shook her head and pointed at him. ‘No, does yours?’

Oh. She had been asking about him. “No, actually I feel great. I haven't slept that well in…” years. He thought. Santi didn’t finish the sentence. He changed the subject as he stood up. “Well, the whole day is free. No doctors, no therapy, nothing. What do you wanna do?”

Laci thought for a moment and shrugged.

“C’mon, we can do anything you want. Whole day, up to you, what grand plans do you have?”

Laci considered his words. After a moment, she made scissors with her fingers and went to her hand.

“A hair cut?!” Santi chuckled. “We can do anything, and you want a hair cut?”

She blushed, but shrugged.

“Okay, Munecita. A haircut it is.”

Santi had her pick wherever she wanted for breakfast. Starbucks, IHOP, some fancy brunch place, it was up to her. He tried to express that money was no issue, but wasn’t sure how to go about that without sounding like he was bragging. The moment he got the money, he was set for life. He could have lived in luxery without working a day in his life. But he did work. He needed something to do. They all did, needed something to take their minds off the horrors. Benny still fought. Fought in matches and in bars. Frankie had his beautiful daughter, Santi’s god daughter. Frankie also had coke, something that no one dared bring up. Will always seemed like he had it together, focusing on field work and making sure Benny didn’t get himself killed. Seemed like he had it together, until he didn’t. Incidents like this last week were reminders that Will had a lot of guilt over Tom’s death that no one addressed. And Santi? Santi had work. Constant work. He always had something going on, something to distract him from everything he had seen and done… and hadn’t done.

He knew that the guys thought, or at least wondered if that's what Laci was. A project. But Santi didn’t think so. There was so much more he wanted to know about her, wanted to do with her, time he wanted to spend…

Santiago went to a barber for his hair, but Benny had a recommendation for a hair stylist. He promised that she wouldn’t make a big deal about Laci not talking.

“You must be Benjamin’s friends! I’m Brit. You can take a seat at the first chair, I’ll be with you in a sec, hon” The stylist called over to Laci, then looked at Santi. “You getting a hair cut too? You look like you could use it.” She teased while washing items in the sink. “Nay has some free time, could squeeze you in?”

“No thanks, I’m-” Santo started, but felt a nudge. Laci was looking up at him, grinning and nodding. She looked so excited, how could he deny her. He sighed with a smile. “Okay, yeah I suppose I could use a trim.”

“Excellant!”

Santi walked over to where Brit was cleaning. “Hey uh, did Ben talk to you about her at all?”

She gave him a sympathetic smile. “Yeah, he told me how y’all found her. Horrible. Don’t worry, her cut is on the house.”

Santiago shook his head. “No, no I’m paying for hers, don’t worry ‘bout that. Thing is, she doesn’t talk much. Sometimes at all, she has pictures for what she wants, but she can’t really reply unless it’s yes or no…”

“Don’t worry hon, I understand, I’ll keep it simple.”

He smiled. “Thank you.” Santi began walking away, but turned around. “Is there any like… hair treatments or something… nice? I asked her what she wanted to do today, all she asked for was a hair cut… Is there anything I can add to make it nicer for her?”

Brit gave him a knowing look. “Yeah, I’ll check out her hair, see what she needs.”

Laci and Santi spent the next few hours in the chairs, it was almost like a spa day. Much of Laci’s hair had been damaged from a year of no care and malnutrition, so she got much of it cut off, holding up a picture for reference on the phone Santi had bought her.. Brit had opted for a keratin treatment to strengthen her hair. Laci had asked (via her notes app) about highlights, but Brit was concerned about the integrity of her hair at the moment, and suggested they come back in a few months and recommended hair skin and nails pills.

Santi got a trim, and Laci gave him pleading eyes to get the keratin treatment. Nay suggested he get a deep conditioning for his curls, and Laci allowed it. Together, they relaxed as the soft music played. Nay and Brit were thankful for not having to make conversation, and Santi secretly enjoyed being pampered.

“Jeez, whatever you and Benny do for work, if you wanna send more coworkers my way, feel free”

Santi had left a generous tip, and he knew Benny would’ve as well. They were very popular wherever they were regulars at.

The next two weeks were something akin to domestic. During the day, they took turns cooking for each other. Well, “cooking” Santi could get by with a few Guatemalan recipes, but he tended to rely on burgers, microwave food, and pastas. He generally was in charge of lunch. Laci took on dinner. She was better at cooking than him. Some recipes, a white girl from St. Louis probably wouldn’t know, and Santi figured she had learned in her year of captivity. It occurred to him that they never really talked about what happened. He supposed that's what her therapists were for. Laci had given him access to all her medical and psych records, something Santi never took advantage of or even asked for. Laci had given permission for her psych to talk to Santi about what they talked about, she signed everything away to Santi. He was all she had. He could, if he wanted, find out everything they had done. But Santiago didn’t want to find out that way. If she wanted him to know, she could tell him. He didn’t want to invade her privacy. She deserved to be allowed secrets, even if she had given up her rights to any.

More nights than not, she fell asleep in his arms. it had become routine. If they couldn’t sleep, they’d meet on the couch and watch old sitcoms. More nights than not, she laid on his chest. And tonight? Tonight he was regretting it. Not regretting it enough to stop, however. Not enough to move, to get up, to get away from her. Not when she was so close to him. Laci had sat up on his chest, her hands tracing over his face. He was tired, too tired, and the soft glow of TV bounced off her face. She was beautiful. Her haircut was chin length, a style that worked well for her straight blonde hair. Despite his best judgment, he reached up to touch her face. Laci’s fingers trailed his hairline, his cheekbones, his jaw, and softly over his bottom lip. He fought her urge to take her fingers in his mouth, but this was more innocent. Something pure, delicate and new. He didn’t want to ruin what was happening, even if he knew he should walk away. Her skin was still pale, but had gained color in its cheek’s, a bit of pink on her face that matched the shade of her lips. A shade that matched the color of pink she generally likes to wear.

Laci leaned into his touch, and before he could stop himself, he lifted his face to hers. For a moment, their lips merely brushed together, an air of hesitancy like a teenage crush, like a first kiss stifled by nervousness and awkward touches. Finally, the hand on her face gently entwined in her thin hair, bringing her to his mouth ever-so carefully. It wasn’t a demand, it wasn’t an insistence, it was a guide. ‘Come here’ it said ‘let me love you, please’. The kiss was a plea. ‘Let me love you, let me love you, let me love you’ from who to whom, Santi didn’t know. Was Santiago asking to let him protect her and love her and help her, or was Laci asking him to open up, to know and be known by him.

There was no tongue, no fever, no wet, hot kisses and lascivious touching. Just his lips on hers, slow and kind, her gentle touch on her face begging him not to pull away. He only did so for moments long enough to check on her, only to see her smiling dreamily at him before one of them went back to the languid affection. There was a tightness in his chest, nervous to be seen so openly. It was a vulnerability he really shared. His job, the way he lived his life, had prevented him from normal relationships. This felt like a new start, a brand new thing not only with them, not only between him and the pretty girl in his arms, but within himself. There was something in him that had been laid to the ground with every military move, everyone had had to kill, everyone he watched be killed. Every kiss he planted on her lips brought new life; the hand in her head secured her to him, begged her to stay, stay, stay with me Laci, please. Something that had been burried deeper with every time he watched his friends get shot, every member of his family who died, all that was being brought to the surface with every faint, soft brush of her lips and the tender touch of her hand on his stubbled face. He didn’t want to stop. He wondered if he could stop time, what he would give to keep them like this, safe in each other’s arms for ever.

But he did stop, he had to. If he didn’t, he’d take things further. He would already regret this in the morning, he didn’t need to give into every carnel desire he had. Laci smiled, giving him one last kiss on the cheek before laying her head down on his chest. Tomorrow was for regret; tomorrow was for feeling shitty. Tonight was for nothing but thoughts of her lips, and the comforting touch of her hand.

The next day

“You two ready yet?” Will called out to Santiago and Laci in the doorway. Will was the DD for tonight.

Ben was already half drunk. “LET’S GOOOOOO”

“Benny, shut the fuck up or I swear to god I’m leaving you here”

“Hey!” Santiago Garcia emerged from his room. “You’re not leaving a drunk Ben alone in my house.”

“He’s gonna get in a fucking fight tonight and I’m too sober to deal with this.”

Santi patted his friend on his back. This was Will’s apology for being a dick at the BBQ.

Laci practically skipped out of her room. She wore white overalls over her pink undershirt, and was beaming. Frankie had asked her to babysit Rosie so the guys could have a few hours out. Santi had he feeling it was primarily for Laci’s benefit, but he was nervous. Him and Laci had been attached at the hip since the moment he found her, hardly being separated. She always had him in the room with her for doctors, and if she was in therapy, he stayed in the waiting room. For any meeting for social workers and things of that sort, he was always in the room, translating or relaying messages, depending on how verbal she was that day. This was the first time they would be separated by anything more than a few yards.

“Frankie is going to fucking kill you” Santi commented when he saw the hat Benny was wearing. It said ‘women want me, fish fear me’ from some tik tok audio.

Benny grinned. “I’m counting on it!”

“You change your goddamn ringtone yet?”

“Absolutely not!” Benny had set his ringtone to “Benny and the Jet’s” months ago, and it was driving the guys insane. Laci seemed to think it was funny. Every time it went off while they watched Always Sunny, Santi groaned, and Laci giggled.

Will started to drag Ben back to the Jeep. “Who still has a ringtone anymore?” He mutters as everyone loads up, heading to Frankies next.

Laci held Santi’s hand as she usually did when they left their house, but as soon as Laci spotted Rosie, his hand and him became irrelevant. She scooped the toddler off the floor, and began whispering praises to the giggling girl. She talked to Rosie more than Santi.

“Two peas in a pod” Frankie commented and he put the food on the high chair. Then he spotted Benny’s hat. “Take that god damn shit off!” He tried to grabbed it off Ben’s head.

Ben yelped but doged Frankies grasp. He ran around the counters, tailed by Fish, mimicking the audio. “Women want me, Fish fears me”

Frankie chased the boy around the living room.“I don’t fear shit, Jackass, fuck off” Frankie grabbed the hat off Ben’s head.

“Hey!” The whole group of men turned to see Laci covering Rosie’s ears. She nodded to the baby. “Language” she scolded.

“Yeah, Fish, l a n g u a g e!” and took his hat back.

Frankie sighed, one battle at a time. He turned to Laci. “This is her dinner, she’ll fight you over it for a while but I promise she’ll eat it, just gotta keep at her. If she gets too messy you can give her a bath, but I think she’ll be okay. Bedtime is 7, but she gets really excited with new people, so if she doesn’t go to sleep, don’t sweat it. Help yourself to anything in the fridge or whatever, remote for the TV is on the coffee table. Don’t worry about dishes or anything. Any questions?”

Laci looked like she was mentally noting everything in her brain. She shook her head.

“Great. Any questions, you have my number, you can text Santi if that’s easier. I’ll set the security before I go, theres camera’s in the living room. Not that I don’t trust you, I don’t trust the outside. Years of military makes me paranoid.”

Laci nodded, smiling and still holding the little girl.

Santi spoke up. “I think I’m gonna sit tonight out guys.”

Everyone, including Laci, turned to him.

“What?” Ben asked.

“I’m kinda tired, I think I’ll just stay in with Lace and Rosie tonight”

“You stay in with Laci EVERY NIGHT, Pope.” The shots Benny had taken had loosened his mouth. “Jesus Christ she’ll be okay for a few hours.”

“No, that's not it-”

Ben scoffed loudly “Oh yes it is! Come one, give her a little freedom”

Santi glared at Ben’s comment. “Freedom? Ben, I’m not keeping her captive.”

Laci handed Rosie to Will, who took her with a smile and a kiss. Laci took Santi’s hand and dragged the irritated man to the hall. “Santi, it’s okay. I can handle a one year old”

He sighed, momentarily distracted by her pink lips, that only last night were on his. “I know you can, I just…”

“I know I havn’t…” Laci shuffled a bit. “I don’t really let you go anywhere, I don’t want to keep you back…” She looked up at him, her thoughtful blue eyes on him.

He softened for her. “Oh Lace, no, you aren’t keeping me back, not at all. I… I enjoy our time… together…” he trialed off, both of them thinking about last night, the kiss… neither had talked about it.

“Santi, I promise it’ll be okay. I’ll text you if anything goes wrong, or if I get anxious or something, okay?”

Santi considered this. It had been a long time since he had a chance to get loose with the guys, and Ben and Frankie promised to provide some entertainment… “Okay, yeah, just… keep me updated, okay?”

She lit up at that. “I promise”

They walked out of the hall, everyone turned to them, Laci smiled “Parties on.”

With a loud bunch of cheers from the guys, everyone got ready to go. Frankie gave Rosie a bunch of kisses and when everyone else had left, Santi kissed Laci on the cheek. “Have fun.” and tickled Rosie before he left. Benny absolutely saw that.

A few hours and a few shots in, Ben brought it up. “So, you two finally kissing” He said out of nowhere.

Everyone turned to Santi, whose cheeks were flushed with a bit of pink. “What are you talking about, jackass.”

“Everyone’s calling me a jackass tonight!” He exclaimed. Benny wiggled his eyebrows. “I saw you kiss her when we left.”

“What?” Will exclaimed. Frankie was not surprised.

“Listen” Santi defended himself. “It was a kiss on the cheek” there was a pause, as no one seemed to beleive him. “There might have been… some kissing last night.” A loud ooooooo from Ben. “No, no, not like that. And I should havn’t done that” Santi shook his head. “That’s not why I took her in.”

“Well…” Will started, but stopped, hesitating.

“Whatever it is, say it.” Santi groaned, finishing his drink and ordering another round for the guys sans Will.

“I just mean, it’s not the only reason. But I think it was somewhere in the back of your mind.”

Santi looked indignant. “I didn’t move her in to coerce her into sex, Will”

“I didn’t say that!” He raised his hands defensively. “I just mean, she’s a pretty girl, you’re a good looking guy who has been very nice to her,” he stifled a smirk “it’s natural that theres gonna be some… attraction.” Will tried to remain polite.

“Listen.” Santi scrubbed his face. “I’m well aware that she might find me…” He tried to find the right words without sounding braggadocious. “Appealing” he said he a smile, earning laughs from the guys. “But” he got more serious. “I don’t want her to feel like she is obligated to do anything.”

“Santi.” It was Fish’s turn. “I don’t think she feels like that. You treat her like a porcelain doll, she feels safe with you.”

Santi wasn’t relenting. “And I plan on keeping it that way. Lace is still in a high emotional state, I don’t know if she’s thinking clearly, and I’m not going to take advantage of that.”

Ben took another shot. “So what you’re saying is, when she gets more settled, you would go for it”

The alcohol flowed through Santi, taking back his usual inhibitions when he spoke. A smile quipped up at his lips. “All I’m saying is… I enjoy spending time with her, and I wouldn’t mind if she wanted toooooo, continue that” Oh yeah. Yeah he was drunk.

This evoked a round of cheers from the guys, and Frankie ordering more drinks.

A ding on Santi’s phone. When he looked at the screen he smiled.

Frankie looked over. “Everything alright with our girls?”

Our girls

“Yeah, they are great.” He show Frankie, then Benny and Will the picture. Rosie was fast asleep in her bed, Laci laying next to her smiling. Yeah, he was saving that picture.

Laci woke up on the couch, Will very softly whispering for her to wake up, careful not to scare her. “Hey”

Laci gave a sleepy little wave, but was concerned there was no Santi.

“Listen, I just got Frankie to bed, Santi is… drunk off his ass.” He chuckled. “Let’s get you guys home so I get throw Ben on his front porch and be done with him.”

Laci’s face falters, and Will assured her he was joking and would get Ben to bed safely. She stood up, glancing over to the room Rosie was in.

“I already checked on her, but you can say goodbye if you want.”

Laci shook her head, she didn’t want to wake her.

When she got in the car, it was clear Santi and Ben were DRUNK drunk. Will had shoved them in the back, opening the passenger door for Laci. The whole ride home, Ben and Santi alternated music. Despite his earlier insistence that he didn’t like Luis Fonsi, he sure sang No me Doy Por Vecino loud as hell. Benny did too, even if he couldn’t pronounce the words. Laci looked over to the older Miller, who was glancing at his brother and his friend in the rearview mirror as they screeched out ‘Una senal del destino’ the top of their lungs, gripping to each other dramatically. Will was not as irritated as he pretended to be. He turned to see Laci catching him smiling.

“They’re funny.” He defended.

Will practically had to carry Santi’s short body to the bed. Laci was grateful for him, there was no way she’d get him there. She took off his shoes as Will practically forced him to drink water.

“STOP WATER BOARDING ME!” Santi half yelled, half laughed.

“I’M NOT WATER BOARDING YOU, I’M TRYING TO HELP YOUR HANGOVER AFTER ALL THOSE SHOTS, DUMBASS”

Laci stood up, gesturing for the cup. She stood over Santiago, who was sitting on the edge of the bed. Will watched as she held the cup to his lips with one hand, and carefully coaxed his head back with the other. The way Santi looked up at her… he was done for. Laci had his wrapped around her finger, and likely had from the moment he saw her. His large brown eyes watched her face as she watched the cup, far more careful with him than Will had been. Santi drank every bit of the water, and Laci patted his head, leaning into whisper “good job, baby“ Suddenly, she looked up, turning around to see Will. She had forgotten he was there. Santi laid down on the bed, mumbling something in Spanish they couldn’t understand.

His face flushed a deep pink as her eyes widened in panic.

“Hey, hey,” Will Miller held up his hands, before pretending to zip his mouth shut. He mimiacked locking his mouth, handing over the key to her. Laci smiled and tentatively took the metaphorical key, tucking it in he roveral pocket.

“You guys gonna be okay here?”

Laci nodded.

“Okay, call me me if he asphyxiates on his vomit or something.” Pope had put all the guys numbers in her phone as soon as he bought it, incase of emergencies.

She looked panicked again.

“Oh! Oh no, I was joking. Sorry, dry humor.”

This didn't comfort her. Now she was worried about him choking.

He sighed, but smiled. “Here” Will moved Santi to his side. “If he’s on his side, he’ll be fine” Will promised.

Feeling better, Laci nodded

“Okay, I’m gonna get going. Leaving a drunk Ben alone is a bad idea, he’s probably fighting a racoon as we speak.

Laci laughed and waved goodbye.

When he was out the door, she locked it behind him and set up Santi’s extensive security system. She went back to check on him, sitting on the edge of the bed. When was sure he was asleep, she played with his beautiful, thick hair. “Thank you for everything. I don’t say it enough, but thank you. I owe you everything. Te amo.” A kiss on his forehead. “Te amo, Santiago” Laci climbed into the other side of the bed, not wanting to leave him alone. Will’s joke had worried her. She was going to watch out for him the way he watched out for her.

**************

I hope y'all liked the kiss bc I wanted to write it really fucking sweet. Their first kiss was impulsive, but I wanted this to be slow, deliberate.

I used a piccrew maker to make how I picture Laci when she was found, and then after she had been with Santi and got her hair cut this chapter, which you can find here for reference

Also I'm working on a spotify playlist for this fic, if you have any suggestions go ahead and comment! Its gonna have leather and lace by stevie nicks (duh) some luis fonsi (duh) Selena, etc. if you have any songs you feel fit this fic, comment them here!

Also, writing dialoge that switched between 4/5 people is hard, im sorry if it was confusing.

be sure to follow the leather and lace fic tag, and if you'd like to be added or removed from the tag list let me know!!! smut is coming i swear

relbogs help a lot and comments mean the world! love y'all and thank you so much for the support y'all have given to this story!

@littlenosoul @bensolosbluesaber @milkymoon2483 @gogh-with-the-flow @itspdameronthings @trinkets01 @p0edameronswife

#leather and lace fic #santiago garcia x reader #santiago garcia #santi garcia #santi garcia x oc #santi garcia fluff #santi garcia hurt comfort #santiago garcia fluff #fluff #hurt comfort #oscar isaac fanfiction #benjamin miller #benjamin benny miller #frankie catfish morales #will ironhead miller

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lemonhemlock · 11 months

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I don't see why we as green fans can't complain or say anything at all about Aemond's characterization and the overuse of certain tropes in fics when black fans do it all the time also?? Be it Aemond/OC, Aemond/Rhaena, Aegon fics paired with OCs or team black characters like Baela, Daemon/Alicent or even pure time travelling crackships like Aemond/Sansa or Sansa paired with any team green guy (yes some of them have complained about this as well because allegedly if Sansa were to time travel back in the Dance era she would only fall in love with Jace! Fine! But guess what no team black stan who has complained about this aspect has written or comissioned a fic with her and their guy, they just complain that the already existing ones aren't about what they want) and they will always find time to lash out on their accounts about how the evil green authors are mischaracterizing the team black OCs or already existing characters. At least we are not leaving hate comments or criticism that nobody asked for (or I hope no one does this! Please don't!) on the fics we read and were disappointed by (and didn't even mention them as examples in these asks).

Anonymous asked: okay i’m game for some anti-lucemond inbox antagonism. while op did indeed make some good points regarding the formulaic nature of aemond x OC i still contend they do not know the difference between a minor character and a plot device. helaena is a minor character, the cargyll twins are minor characters, laenor is a minor character, heck with a bit of massaging and extrapolating harwin could be consider a minor character. Unlike strong boy #2 at least I can say what they were doing between their respective time jumps. helaena — having babies, enjoying her bugs cargylls — aegon watch + introspection which results on them being on different sides laenor — fighting in wars, hanging with his boyfriend, parenting (?) harwin — bangin’ rhaenyra, being a goldcloak, preparing to take on a lordship (just cause harrenhall is practically unliveable doesn’t mean they don’t have peasants in the vicinity to tax I suppose idk) These are characters. They have jobs and hobbies, actual relationships. lucerys in contrast, what has he being doing for the 6 years during the time skip. training? possibly, all we know about him is that he gets his ass handed to him in a fight and gets seasick. what are his hobbies? does he have any responsibilities? friends? anything? I will grant he seems to have a decent grasp of HV. during the incident Aemond in his anxiety starts giving his command in English whereas Luke maintains HV when commanding Arrax, for all the good that it did. maybe there is something there, but I don’t want to read into it too much it because it was likely more for the audience than a way to develop the characters because those are commands not sentences, like jace was working on. Speaking of Jace, even he has something going for him, minor though it was — he trains, attends meetings, is not doing so good in his LOTE classes, really doesn’t like his stepdad, still cannot take a joke. Jace has some serious emotional problems which could be worth exploring, but Lucerys? Nothing, nada, zilch. Who is this person It seems Lucerys only role was to gas up rhaenyra; just so we in the audience know she is in fact perfect, make this face ☹️ in the background of scenes, smirk one time like a asshole, and then die. he is not a character, and while I initially had no problem with him, beyond a mild distaste because he hurt aemond (I actually put more blame on Jace) the way TB started riding this non entity so hard for the last year just made me loathe lucerys. Lucemond can occasionally be fun. I like the fics which are just absurd AUs but anyone who actually takes it seriously. The folks who insist on ‘Fated Feud’ or whatever it’s called, are reaching so hard they might tear something, pretending there is any chemistry or motivation for this relationship. And don’t get me started on the ones who call Luke the pearl of driftmark, that makes me want vom. But people need to quit pretending Lucerys is something other than a plot device, first blood in the DoD, that is all. I hope him and this ship goes away soon. [anyway sorry you’ve got to be the repository for this nonsense. How do you like your aegond? The thing which should have been the main mlm ship for this ridiculous fandom.]

ironically this is probably exactly the type of content the previous anon wanted to avoid 😂 but you can't expect to go in someone's inbox looking for drama, stirring the hornets' nest so to speak, and not expect a reaction. surely everyone can deal with their inbox messages whichever way they want, on the spectrum of not bothering to react at all vs ranting about it. i don't subscribe to this idea that you should hold your mouth shut and refrain from any kind of critical diatribe bc the other side might see it and might be up in their feelings about it.

absolutely not referring to vitriolic hateposting or other forms of bullying, but the institution of the Rant is sacred and must be protected. you can be annoyed at some fandom stuff and simply want a space to air out those thoughts - ofc you're going to be posting in designated fandom platforms, bc it looks deranged to complain about this IRL. i feel that people need to accept that users should have their own barbie playground, but, equally, there should be some spaces (keeping a respectful distance ofc) where criticism or just random rants about that thing can happen, undoubtedly respecting the parameters of decency and not resorting to crazy insults

i agree (and this is a v important caveat) that it becomes bizarre when it's the same people doing it every day, bc then it turns into an unhealthy hyperfixation which you might want to interrogate, but once in a while it can be cathartic, like shooting the shit with your bffs. moderation is key to everything, we can all co-exist and get along without taking everything to heart

this isn't even about lucemond, honestly, it's more of a general fandom criticism, because this is not the first time i've encountered people who simply refuse to mute the tags, willingly read the anti posts, find themselves irked by something, then vent their frustrations on OP

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as for luke being a plot device vs a minor character, i can't say i''m too bothered about that distinction to argue either way. minor characters can also be plot devices and he is effectively fridged for rhaenyra's and jace's) pain. i do think he has more going for him in the show, like they really tried to give him more screen time towards the end and focus a little on his supposedly conflicting feelings about inheriting driftmark & his bastardy

anyway the "how do you like your aegond" sent me 🤣 i'm really drawn to modern setting AUs for some reason! the constraints of modern society are like a breeding ground for angst

#anyway idk how this reads but i promise i'm not up in arms abt it #i'm honestly more amused than anything #anti lucemond #fandom critical #ask #anon

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sanddusted-wisteria · 11 months

Text

How to Send Letters to a Star [Oneshot]

GN!Builder/Qi; heavy angst

Warnings: Major character death, grief/mourning over a spouse

Edit 11/23/23: Now with a playlist, for extra sad

Summary: An extension to Empty Skies, Hazy Skyboxes, set after Chapter 4.

The builder is gone, and so is their virtual double. Left without his guiding starlight, Qi sets out to navigate the treacherous waters of recovery with nothing but pen and paper. But this time, he isn't alone.

Also on AO3

A/N: I've had the idea of extending ES, HS for several months now. I originally planned it as a fairly long multichapter fic, but I couldn't really find a way to make it click. But just recently, I came up with this! It reuses some of the ideas I had in that original outline, but it brings them together in a way I feel is much more cohesive.

Just like ES, HS, this fic won't take into account any of the canon main story after The Goat, nor any of the implications of what's happening in Sandrock in the background at this point of the story. Pretend that these two fics exist in a "main story stasis" of sorts. Enjoy!

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

Qi sat at his usual seat outside the saloon, waiting for his order to arrive. He idly sipped at a cup of tea as he watched the golden light of the evening fall over Main Street. He wished the frycook would hurry up a little. He wanted to be back before dark.

“Evenin’, Director.”

From the street below came Hugo’s voice. He leaned over in his chair to see him coming up the road, returning home for the night.

“Oh. Hello. Productive day for you, I assume?” Qi said.

“Yeah, not bad,” Hugo replied as he stretched his shoulder out. “Got a couple nice swords finished. Best ones this week. How ‘bout you, holdin’ up?”

“Nothing of particular note today. Though that’s not necessarily a bad thing, I suppose.”

Hugo hummed. “Sometimes a borin’ day’s better than a bad one.”

Qi nodded. It was silent. He took another sip of tea. Hugo scratched his head.

After a minute, Hugo started walking again. Qi thought that he would head back to his house, but to his surprise, he walked over and took the seat opposite Qi.

“Um…?” Qi looked over, confused.

Hugo let out a light sigh. “I know that look.”

Qi frowned. “What look?”

“You’re thinkin’ about ‘em again, ain’t ya?”

“N…no. I was just thinking about how I wanted to return to the Research Center before nightfall—”

“—So you don’t get reminded of ‘em again.”

Qi looked away. “…Yes.”

Just then, the door to the saloon opened, and Grace appeared. “Hey, sorry. Had a bit of a fire to deal with… Um. Not with your stuff, though.” She set the tray down on the table next to Qi.

“Mm. Thank you,” Qi said, mind elsewhere.

Grace suddenly noticed Hugo. “Hey, anything for you?”

Hugo shook his head. “Naw. Jus’ talkin’ with the director here.”

Grace’s eyes flickered between the two of them. “Gotcha. More tea?” she asked Qi.

“Oh…no. That’s fine.” He handed Grace the money for the meal. She had no snarky comment this time. Not even a smirk.

“Cool. Enjoy, then.” She turned to head back into the saloon. Halfway into the door, she paused and looked back at Qi. “And take care, okay?” Then she disappeared.

Qi took the spoon from the tray and began drinking his tea porridge. Hugo stared out across the street, lost in thought.

“How you feelin’?” Hugo suddenly said. His voice was quiet, but it was the loudest thing on the silent street.

“I…” Qi set the spoon down. “I…don’t know. I don’t know to describe it, at least.”

Hugo nodded sagely. “Somehow…I know. There really ain’t a word in any language to describe it.”

Qi let out a quiet hum. “How…else did you deal with it?”

“Hrrrmm…” Hugo brought a hand to his chin, frowning at the ground. “Well…I remember soon after it happened, we all wrote letters to Rhonda. Me, Heidi, and Mama.”

Qi frowned. “Letters? To a…nonexistent recipient?”

“Well, we never put ‘em in the mailbox or anythin’. We’d jus’ slip ‘em into envelopes and seal ‘em up, and we’d put ‘em away with the rest of the mail, like she really got ‘em.”

“And this…helped?”

“A lil bit, yeah. Anythin’ we ever wanted to say to her…but never could… We could put it in a letter. Get it out of our system, y’know?”

“That does seem logically cathartic,” Qi muttered, mulling it over. “Do you…still do it?”

“Not as much anymore. Started with one every few days, but as we all got a bit better, we did it less and less. Nowadays I only do it about once every year or so. Jus’ to remind her I still love her. And that we’re doin’ alright.”

Qi slowly nodded. “I see. I suppose there’s no harm in trying it.”

“Yeah, give it a shot. You’re still young. You must have plenty left you wanna say.” He shrugged with a sad look in his eye. “It’s the best we got. Least until the Light reunites us.”

Normally, Qi would have scoffed at that last comment about the Light. But the emotions of it bled through the unscientific idea. He let it slide.

Hugo stood up. “Let me know how it goes…if you want. I understand if that’s somethin’ you wanna keep to yourself.”

“I’ll see,” Qi said. “Regardless…thank you. For all of your guidance.”

Hugo let out a low chuckle. “Don’ mention it. You know where to find us if you need any more help.”

“Of course. Good night, then.”

“Good night. You take care, now.”

Qi watched as Hugo left the saloon’s deck and disappeared into the warm light of his house.

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

Dear Starlight,

Hello??? I’m…not sure what to write here. Hugo has suggested that I try writing letters as if you could receive them. Apparently this has some emotional benefits to it. I could see it from the way he explained it, but actually doing it myself feels so strange. I know for a fact that you will never read these words, yet I write like I can. I think I will experiment with this further…but perhaps when I think of more topics to write about.

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

Qi ripped the last piece of duct tape and slapped it onto the box. He heaved a sigh as he looked it over. Hopefully the relic wouldn’t get damaged in transit. Not that it made any difference if it did. He just needed this thing out of his Research Center. Out of his sight.

He grabbed a marker and wrote down the address on the top of the box.

Old World Computing Technologies Lab

University of Vega 5

Vega 5

Alliance of Free Cities

No return address.

He felt his stomach churn as he shoved it out onto his doorstep.

That wasn’t them, he silently told himself.

They weren’t in there.

They weren’t anywhere.

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

Dear Starlight,

I got rid of the virtual reality relic. I had it shipped off to a lab in Vega 5. Maybe they can get some use out of it. Maybe they won’t make the same mistake I made. Or maybe they will. It’s not really my problem anymore. I just couldn’t stand knowing it was in my Research Center. I reset everything, of course. No traces of the virtual Sandrock project remain. With luck, no one will even know that I was the one who sent it.

I’ll try not to write about this again, since I really do want to move past it, but…it still sits very clearly in my mind. Sometimes my mind still conflates you and your virtual double as being one in the same. Is that an indicator of the quality of my work? Or a sign of my own mental weakness?

The last thing I want to do is to delude myself again into believing that clone was really you, but even so…I felt like I did the right thing by you. I really, truly felt that you would have wanted me to erase all the progress I had made.

In that moment…it seemed like you were really talking to me again.

There I go again. High quality work, or my emotions taking advantage of me?

Now. Let’s put this all behind me. For good. I still don’t know exactly what to do without you, but anything is better than this.

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

Qi was busy running the statistical analysis for his last experiment when someone suddenly grabbed his shoulders. He yelped and angrily whirled around to find Mint standing there, snickering.

“Sleepyhead! Why?!”

“Come on, Spacecase. When was the last time you saw the sun? ANOVA can wait.”

“Well, it can wait, but you just made me lose track of my calculations. Now I have to start over,” Qi grumbled.

“Exactly. So put it down for a bit and take a break, Spacecase. That’s why I’m here.”

“And I don’t suppose you’ll leave unless I comply?”

“Nope!”

Qi groaned, but set his notebook down. “Fine. What do you suggest we do, then?”

“What else?” Mint shrugged. “I haven’t seen you in ages. We catch up.”

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

Dear Starlight,

Mint decided to visit recently. Apparently he had some time off and thought to come here. Despite all the letters and telegrams he’s been sending, he wanted to come talk to me in person. I assume it’s to reduce the chance of me obscuring the truth when I answer any questions he asks.

I admit…he was right. When I started working on recreating you virtually, he was concerned about how the project would affect my well-being. That I would grow too attached to this artificial version of you.

When I told him this, he just shook his head and told me that he was just glad I managed to survive it and admit my mistakes. Even when he had left, he was still worried. He told some of the other townsfolk to keep supplying me with food and water and other necessities, since he knew I wouldn’t bring myself to do it without coercion. Once again, he was right. I never really paid attention to all the food being left outside my door while I was in the depths of that project. I only had one objective in mind. It hardly mattered if my body wasted away while pursuing it.

All the letters and telegrams were also a form of…insurance, if we want to call it that. Not only did Mint want to know about my well-being, but they acted as a sort of indicator. If I didn’t respond to a telegram, he’d send one the next day. If that happened three times in a row, he would telegraph Mayor Trudy instead and have someone check on me. Same thing for letters, though with a week in between each one instead.

I was surprised to hear this. Mint is far from stupid, but this amount of planning…it’s unusual for him. I asked him why he would go this far.

All he said was, “Why wouldn’t I?”

Now I worry if I’ve taken him for granted all these years.

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

Qi was staring a hole into his lab’s front door. He’d stood there for what felt like an hour, half of him urging him to walk out, and the other half begging to fall back. Neither could persuade his feet to move.

He made sure to work a little later than usual today, so he’d still be at the research center after dark. Today, he thought, was the day that he would summon the courage to stargaze again. At least, that’s what he thought this morning. He figured that if he could force himself to stay out later, the probability of him cowering away again would be lower, since he would have no excuse to not just go up the stairs to the roof and do it.

…He could always just sleep here tonight…

Qi grit his teeth and furiously shook his head. With both arms, he shoved the doors open as hard as he could, the resulting BANG rattling across the empty street and through his skull. The chilly air and the dark of night greeted him. He stared out a little longer. Then his impulses took hold, propelling him forward into the darkness before he could shrink away. He stiffly walked up the stairs, stumbling and almost tripping in some places.

And finally, he was on the roof. The cold, hard, metal, empty roof. The telescope stood still in the center, keeping its watchful eye on the stars like always. Qi plodded over to his old spot, his legs no longer familiar with the roof’s incline. He sat down with his knees hugged to his chest, trying to let the cool air push the nausea back down.

The familiarity of the scene in front of him made his heart ache. The rock formations blocking the sky in all those particular spots, the moon peeking out from behind the mesa, the side street far below, and of course, the sky, that grand span of darkness dappled with boundless amounts of magnificent, luminous…

“…Starlight…”

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

Starlight…

It’s still strange, isn’t it? Someone like me calling you that. I never thought I would be one for such saccharine…nonsense. But with you, it all just seemed to happen of its own accord. You made me feel and act in ways I’d scoff at several years ago. I’d get excited at the prospect of a distraction from my work, if only to spend some time with you. I’d never get tired of talking to you. I’d be glad to explain even the most basic scientific concepts to you. You awoke so many new emotions in me.

Even after you’re gone…you’re still doing it.

I always thought

You never

You were always

When I think of the stars

I still

You still

I can’t

Why do I

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

Starlight,

Yesterday was the Day of Memories. I had to run out to refill my water tank, and I opened the door to find some lanterns left outside. I have no idea who left them there. But they at least had the foresight to just leave them there without a word.

For the first time…I participated in a town festival. Of my own accord. I wonder what you’d say to that. Actually, strictly speaking…I participated in my own way. Separate from everyone else. Your judgment call on whether that counts or not.

I released the lanterns from the rooftop, of course. I waited until I saw the crowd release theirs…hopefully no one noticed mine separate from the rest.

Did you see them

It’s strange. I’ve never felt compelled to do something like this before. But as I watched the lanterns and the stars…the sensation that I felt… I think I have a new yearly routine.

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

Qi sighed as he started his next diagram. Some ho-hum cattle feeding device for the ranch man. Nothing engaging. Just like the last one. And the one before that. And the last 11 of them.

The pencil fell out of his loose hand, only halfway done with the first line. He stared at the point where the line wobbled and stopped.

…

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Qi jolted back up. What was it with people insisting on knocking on his unlocked door? Can’t they just come in? He huffed another sigh and went to answer it.

He opened the door, letting the hot noontime air in. He found himself looking down at the concerned face of…

“Mayor Trudy?”

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

Qi stepped off the boat, legs still a bit unsteady from riding on the ocean. It smelled like salt and fish and seaweed. He glanced up at the familiar metallic walls, and around at the other boats in the harbor.

A familiar fishing vessel was docked at port 6.

Looks like they were home already. Qi moved on, handing his paperwork to the immigration officer, a tired-looking woman who probably wasn’t paid very much. She took a brief look and gave his forms a stamp.

“Welcome to Vega 5,” she droned.

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

It wasn’t far to his parents’ house. They lived close to the harbor. He stood frozen in front of the door, unable to bring himself to knock. He pressed his ear up to the door, faintly hearing some murmurs of conversation. They were probably having dinner now.

He raised his hand up to the door. It didn’t move. As he stared at his knuckles, he felt a sudden urge to run back to the harbor and get the next boat back to the mainland. But he pressed it down and knocked.

Inside, something was shuffled around. Qi felt his stomach churn. After a moment of silence, the knob finally turned.

“Hello, can I help—” It was his mother. As their eyes met, she froze. “Heng?!”

Qi tried to say something. An explanation. An apology. Even just a greeting. But nothing came out.

His mother gave him a once over. “Come in, come in!” She opened the door all the way. “We can talk later,” she murmured, a sad smile on her face.

Qi slowly stepped through the doorway and took off his shoes. He looked around at the familiar wallpaper and all the same pictures on the walls, the simple but homely furniture, all the books that he and his grandpa filled countless shelves with.

“Heng? When did you get here?” His father and his grandpa had suddenly appeared in the doorway leading to the kitchen, staring with just as much shock as his mother did.

“First things first,” his mother said, putting a gentle hand on his back. “Let’s get him dinner.”

“...I…already ate,” Qi lied. “I’d just like to rest now, if you don’t mind.”

“Oh, that’s nonsense,” his grandpa piped up. “It’s only 6. You told us you always have your dinner at 6:30 on Thursdays,” he chuckled.

Qi sighed. “Alright. Fine.”

Everyone sat back down at the table, and a bowl and chopsticks appeared in front of Qi. He blankly took them up and served himself a meager portion. His family, meanwhile, started up their conversation again. Simple, light talk about their days. He could tell they were trying to pique his interest, but still wanted to give him some room to breathe. Never did they ask him anything, or try to rope him in. They let him just listen. He felt a pang in his chest. They knew what he was feeling. And he was grateful.

After slowly making his way through his food, he set his chopsticks down and stood up.

“Finished?” His mother gave him a soft smile.

Qi nodded. “I think I’ll turn in early tonight.”

“Alright. Sleep well.”

“Take it easy, Heng,” his father said.

“Don’t strain yourself,” his grandpa added. “Sleep tight!”

Qi nodded mutely and left the table, hearing the others start talking again, only quieter this time.

He walked upstairs to the bathroom and splashed some water on his face. That was all he had energy for.

Right across the hall was his old room. He carefully opened the door. The last time he saw this place was before he left for Sandrock. Everything was still in its place. All his old notes and journals, all his Gungam relic figures, all the books he couldn’t carry with him, all the stains from past experiments. Everything. Coated in a thick layer of dust, but the same nonetheless.

He flopped onto his old bed, which barely fit him now, staring up at the off-white ceiling, dotted with star mappings he drew himself. His eyes grew heavy.

It still smelled like fish.

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

Starlight,

I’m writing this from Vega 5, believe it or not. The mayor insisted that I “take a vacation” for a week or two. When I refused, she informed me that she told the rest of the townsfolk to not submit any research requests for two weeks. When I continued to refuse, she threatened to suspend my budget allocation unless I used it for paid time off.

I didn’t exactly know where to go, so I went to the only place I could think of. Back to my parents’ house. How did I think of it? I still don’t know. Some irrational instinct, I suppose. Regardless, here I am.

I didn’t tell my family that I was coming. It was so spur of the moment that I didn’t have the time. They haven’t seen me in person for years. And yet…when I showed up and interrupted their dinner…they didn’t ask any questions. They just sat me down at the table and let me rest right afterwards.

After that first night was when they really started talking. Both my parents took a day off from work. Which never happens. With the exception of weekends, they’re always up early in the morning to head out on the water to fish, or to prepare their stand at the market. But that day, they just wanted to stay with me. It almost felt like them staying home to care for me whenever I was ill in elementary school.

We talked for a long time. Meandered around the neighborhood. Visited some familiar places from the past. Not all of our conversation was about me or you or the…circumstances. But when it was, they had nothing but kind words to say. They recalled all the times I had written about you in my correspondence. They knew how much you enriched my life. They would have loved to meet you. And…they’ll always keep my room free whenever spontaneous visits like these would ever occur. Despite not returning to Vega 5 for nearly a decade…they still kept it the same way as it always was. Just in case I would ever show up the same way I did a few days ago.

It felt…a bit overwhelming.

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

Heng, my little astronaut,

Care to meet me at 10 tonight? You know the place.

Grandpa

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

Qi finally climbed the last step, stopping to catch his breath with his hands on his knees. He looked up at the vast night sky above his head. A rare sight to see in Vega 5. He was lucky to grow up so close to the harbor, pretty much the only other place in the city that was completely out in the open. But even so, the smell and the spray and the massive hull of the rest of the city covering one half of the sky didn’t make it anywhere as good as this.

Peach Park. The highest point in the city.

He looked down around the barren terrace. Near the railing overlooking the city below, sitting patiently on a bench and looking out at the sky, was his grandpa.

“Are you sure it’s a good idea to be making this trek all by yourself?” Qi asked as he approached the bench.

His grandpa chuckled. “I’m still fit as ever. The real question is, why is someone as young as you having trouble with it?”

“Not acclimated with it,” Qi grumbled. “I only have to climb one flight of stairs at a time on a daily basis, not fifteen with steep slopes in between.”

His grandpa just laughed, echoing off the metal panels of the terrace. Qi just let out a huff.

Eventually his grandpa fell quiet again, gazing serenely once more at the stars. “Good view of Mars tonight.”

“Indeed.”

Silence.

Qi felt his hand twitch. What was he here for?

“So…” Qi muttered. “Did you…have anything in particular to discuss?”

His grandpa closed his eyes, a soft smile just barely visible in the fading moonlight.

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

Starlight,

I never met my paternal grandmother. She died shortly before I was born. For as long as I’ve known him, my grandpa has always been a widower. Yet somehow, it never crossed my mind to think of him in that kind of capacity. He was always my mentor more than anything else. My very first research advisor.

He called me up to the highest point in the city, just like all those years ago when he brought me up there and ignited my passion for the sciences. This time, though, there was nothing scientific about what we discussed.

He told me more about my grandmother. I had heard some things about her before, from stories that both my grandpa and my father told me, but hearing about her like this was completely different.

They met in university. Studying different fields, but their mutual hatred of their calculus professor brought them together. They spent so much time together studying at the library, then in cafes and restaurants, then in each other’s dorms and labs, then in the home they shared.

One day, she caught a cold. Then it got worse. Then she developed pneumonia. Then she was gone. And my grandpa was left alone.

And now, his own grandson is going through the same. If either of us were any less scientifically-minded, perhaps we’d call it a curse. An omen, maybe. But it’s neither. Just identical tragedies that happened to two people that happen to be genetically related. That’s all.

That’s…all.

He told me not to let myself get consumed by work as my only way to cope. And this was the part that really got me thinking: he told me that successes from work and the happiness that comes with them are a different kind of happiness than I can get from other people. People like you and Mint and my family. No matter how much work I do, it can never fill the void your passing left behind.

All of a sudden, the stint with the virtual reality relic makes a lot more sense.

At first I misunderstood him. I thought he was trying to get me to completely stop my work. But he quickly corrected me. I can and should work whenever possible. It’s just that it cannot be my only way of responding to the situation.

When you died, I had nothing else I could do. There was no longer anyone in Sandrock I was obligated to. Nothing left…but my work. And work I did.

My grandpa…he made the same mistake, it seems. He would hole himself up in his laboratory for days on end, never returning home unless my father came and dragged him there. The first time that happened, he was infuriated with my father. He had never truly lost his temper with him before, but he exploded, trying to shame him for not caring enough about his own mother. My father was terrified and ran off. But almost the second after he disappeared, my grandpa felt terribly ashamed.

My father returned an hour later, long after his anger had cooled, and my grandpa went along willingly this time. They were silent on the way back, except when my father spoke up to remind him about his future grandchild. I was due in several months.

From then on, whenever my father appeared at his laboratory, he would let himself be dragged away from work, no matter how begrudgingly.

Whenever my parents were away at work, my grandpa took care of me. Even if it meant having to leave me partially unsupervised in a lab full of hazardous tools and chemicals. He shared all of his books with me, no matter how advanced, and would always tell me the definitions of any words I didn’t know. He showed me a relic spacesuit in his lab that was found in Sandrock. When I moved to Sandrock, he gave it to me.

His little astronaut.

He is arguably the reason we met.

And the reason I find myself here.

…I don’t know how I should feel about this.

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

“You’re sure you’ll be okay?”

Qi looked up from the surf hitting the dock to the worried look on his mother’s face.

“Y—” He froze. “I…I don’t know.”

His grandpa nodded. “It’s normal to feel like that.”

“And it’s okay to never know,” his father chimed in with a warm smile. “You’ll feel okay eventually, whether you know it or not.”

The ferry tooted its horn.

Before Qi could even think, his mother wrapped her arms around his shoulders. His grandpa did the same on his other side, and finally his father pulled all four of them in close together.

“You can always come home, Heng. Don’t forget,” murmured his mother.

Qi could only let out a hum. Anything more and he’d risk the itchy feeling in his nose spilling over.

They all let go eventually. He gave them one last look as he stepped onto the gangway. They were waving with a smile on their faces. Not making too big of a fuss. He gave them one last wave before stepping onto the boat.

He couldn’t bring himself to look back.

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

Starlight,

Recently, I’ve been wondering about the sociological concept of “home”. I know. Me, thinking about sociology. Utterly daft. But given the circumstances, I hope you’ll forgive some non-scientific studies for just a little bit.

Why do we differentiate a “home” from a “house”? What does a home have that a house does not? To me, both are simply buildings or other dwellings of permanent residence. It seems that a home is a subjective descriptor, one that holds the invoker’s sentiments towards their place of living.

To make matters even more confusing, I see in a lot of literature that people describe other people as their “home”. Most often in their romantic partners, but also their family members (independent of the place they live in) and friends. So is a home a person or place? Or just some nebulous sentiment?

I ask because…I’m trying to figure out what it means in relation to me. Before I left, my parents told me that I could always return “home”. But Vega 5…was it ever my home? Of course, I was born and raised there. My family has always lived there. But I never had any qualms leaving it. Forever, if I had to. When I stepped foot into the city limits for the first time in ages…there was no sense of nostalgia. No urge to move back.

It’d be inaccurate to say that my home was in Sandrock, either. My Research Center was my workplace. The epicenter of all my efforts and achievements. I just happened to reside in the same building. And your workshop was never mine. That was your land. You designed the house yourself. You built all the machines in the yard. I only was fortunate enough to share that space with you, to have my designs be put to use there.

Were you…my home?

Whatever we did, wherever we were…I always felt at ease with you. Safe. Invigorated. Comfortable.

…Where is my home now that you’re gone?

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

Qi sat back down at his desk. Several townsfolk had already written up some requests for him now that his…sabbatical had ended. He skimmed through them, finding the most interesting one to tackle first. His eyes glazed over as he realized all of them were equally simple and dull.

He sighed and picked one at random. The ranch man demanded another, more powerful cattle feeder. He tossed it aside and grabbed another one. Heidi needed some crane lifts. He shrugged. It would have to do.

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

Starlight,

Unfortunately, there’s nothing I can really write about this time. I’ve just been catching up with diagram requests ever since I returned from Vega 5. None of them are interesting in the slightest. Maybe next time.

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

Starlight,

My work is…droll. I’d never thought I’d be saying that about science, but it’s just not the same. My hypothesis: lack of engagement. No one here appreciates the sciences as much as I do. The only people who come close are Fang and Zeke, and I can’t engage either of them for obvious reasons. Everyday I toil away in the Research Center, experiment after experiment, hypothesis to conclusion and all over again. And then I send my results back to someone I can’t see, to a committee of people I’ve never met, and then maybe, just maybe, someone can engage with my work. Over letters and telegrams. It’s like

It’s just like before I met you. You were the only one who I could speak truly to. The only one who ever seemed to see value in my work without hesitation, even if you didn’t fully understand everything. And now you’re not here. Everything’s the same as it once was, all that time ago.

So why does it feel so much more…meaningless? And why does everything from before you came feel so meaningless in retrospect?

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

Starlight,

Sometimes I see this whole letter-writing exercise as completely useless. A feeble appeal to sentiment, that’s all this is. I talk like a madman to someone who no longer exists. And yet this is considered an acceptable way of dealing with the situation.

You are dead. Your body has long decayed by now and the sands have likely buried your bones already. Everything that consists of you, physically and conceptually, no longer exists. There is no scientific evidence of souls or afterlives or spirits or any of the ridiculous things that humans have made up for the sake of appealing to their emotions and shielding themselves from the truth.

There is nothing after death. Nothing that could be empirically shown, anyway. That is a scientific truth.

So why do I feel so disillusioned by it…? Why do I feel this cloying desire to deny it? Why isn’t there a scientifically plausible way for me to just pretend you’re still here

Why

Why d

I am the most ignorant person to ever exist.

I’m sorry.

Everything that I’ve done ever since you passed away was just to do that. To pretend like you’re still here. With me. Happy.

I suppose articulating my thoughts seems much more unimpressive when compared to trying to recreate you using an artificial intelligence. Easier to write it off as mawkish sentiment. But…it’s all one in the same. Self-indulgence.

…Is that necessarily bad?

I don’t have the answer. I don’t believe I’ll ever have the answer. I don’t have any answers. You aren’t here to help me find them.

…I suppose the only thing I can do now is what I’ve always done: be a scientist. To face the unknown and attempt to illuminate even a fraction of that darkness. To ask questions about everything and to constantly seek answers, no longer how long it takes.

Perhaps one day, I will be able to find the answers I seek. Perhaps not. But no matter what the outcome will be or how arduous the process is, I know that you will be in my thoughts the whole way. You always have been, ever since we met.

And who knows? Perhaps one day, I will be able to write to you and tell you all about my journey. I’ll be sure to brew plenty of tea to last the whole story.

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

Qi sat on the roof of the research center. He kept his eye out towards the station, seeing the crowd gathering and milling about. The first lights started appearing as they lit their lanterns. He turned back to the lantern in his lap, checking one more time that the envelope on top was secure.

One by one, warm glowing lights rose up into the sky just outside the city. Qi stared at the hypnotic cloud of light as it expanded and twisted up towards the highest heavens.

He grabbed the matchbox and carefully lit the lantern in his hands. The glow from the fire warmed him ever so slightly. He took one last look at the letter, and carefully let the lantern go.

Up and up it rose, a little unsteady with the extra weight, but it never stopped rising.

Qi’s eyes followed it for as long as he could keep track of it, before it became another light in the cloud.

Another star in the sky.

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

Starlight,

Hello.

Good morning.

Have a productive day.

Be safe.

Does the furnace need servicing?

Do you want some tea?

Read anything interesting?

How was work?

I’m sorry.

I forgive you.

Thank you.

You’re welcome.

Don’t mention it.

Of course.

Don’t touch that sample, please.

Remember to keep hydrated.

Let me show you my latest experiment.

Fascinating.

Wonderful.

Excellent work.

Tell me.

Show me.

You should rest.

Don’t overwork yourself.

You’re very warm.

Are you comfortable?

Good night.

Goodbye.

I love you.

#i got teary eyes writing es hs. this? full on tears #why yes i was inspired by the fourth eva movie thank u for noticinggg #its my birthday today and the best gift you could ever give me is your tears :>#my only regret is that i didn't get to use the idea i had where qi bitchslaps yan #ah well #my time at sandrock #mtas fanfic #shady's fics #mtas qi

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misscorn · 1 year

Text

Day 6 Takaritsu Day/Confession

unfortunately I do think this will be my last entry for @takaritsuweek I simply don’t have the time, energy, or an idea for a day 7 oneshot LOL but all of these will eventually be added to my ‘weeks and weeks’ fic on ff.net under my account Sixty Teacups sooooo yeah :) I really like this one its silly LOL thanks @sekaiichis for inspo/help on certain details hehe

“Do you have an AIM account?” Saga Masamune asked as he and Ritsu sat side by side in the school’s library.

Ritsu blinked at the question, “I-yes.” He lied.

Why, why, why, WHY did I just lie about that?! Ritsu questioned, refraining from pulling at his own hair. He didn’t want to admit to Saga that his mother didn’t approve of those instant messaging chat rooms, finding it far too embarrassing. She thought that they were distracting at best and dangerous at worst. Ritsu didn’t really understand her concern with danger, because he certainly wouldn’t be chatting with strangers. At most, he’d probably chat with Anchan and that was it. At least, it had been until now - what with Saga suddenly expressing interest and all.

“What’s your screen name?” Saga asked.

No, oh no, crap, crap, crap, Ritsu’s eyes started to dart around wildly, looking out the library windows and seeing all the flowering, pink trees. “Ch-Cherry blossom…” He then looked at the numerous shelves. “...books. Cherryblossombooks. Is my screen name.” Ritsu said, refraining from immediately burying his face in his hands in humiliation. What is wrong with me?

“Okay. I’ll message you later.” Saga said. “My screen name’s-”

“I-I actually just remembered I have to leave early today!” Ritsu said, standing. “So sorry, I-I’ll talk to you later, Senpai.” Ritsu rushed off before Saga even had the chance to say goodbye.

Ritsu was out of breath by the time he got home, but pushed through it to run upstairs to his Dad’s office where the family computer was located. He was sure that his Dad was still at work, but he knocked anyway. When not getting a response, he quickly slipped inside and shut the door behind him, sitting in the office chair and hurrying to set up an AIM account.

He weighed the pros and cons of getting in trouble versus Saga finding out he was lying as he went through the whole process. Ultimately, he decided that getting scolded by his mother was less mortifying than Saga going to try to message him on AIM only to find he didn’t exist. By some miracle, Ritsu found that the screen name wasn’t already taken and he was able to quickly sign up, his racing heart finally starting to calm down.

“Ritsu? I thought I heard you come home…” The door to the office slowly opened once more, Ritsu’s mother standing in the doorway to peek inside.

Ritsu squeaked and switched tabs, pretending to be doing some kind of research for a school project. “Y-Yeah, Mom! Sorry, I just came in here to do some homework while Dad’s still at work…” He said, hoping that his mother would buy it.

“Okay…next time at least say hello to your mother.” She huffed with displeasure.

“Sorry.” Ritsu apologized again. “I-I just wanted to get a head start before Dad came home - in case he needs the computer later.”

"Well…alright. What's this project?" She asked curiously, coming over to peek at the screen, making Ritsu nearly fall out of the chair in a panic.

"Ah, it's an open-ended history research project…I haven't totally decided what to do yet." Ritsu said.

"I see. I'll leave you to work hard then." She smiled, patting Ritsu's head, having no reason to believe that her obedient son was hiding something from her.

Ritsu slumped with relief once she left the room. He pulled up some random information on different historical events that he would be able to switch the tabs to in the event that one of his parents entered the office again. He then opened the instant messaging program once more, anxiously waiting to see if anything would come through. A part of him almost hoped Saga wouldn’t message him because Ritsu simply wouldn’t know how to handle that. But, his heart also wouldn’t know how to handle not receiving a message. So it was a bit of a lose-lose situation.

While Ritsu fretted over whether or not he even wanted to receive a message from Senpai, a little box popped up saying ‘NostalgicCentury25 has sent you an IM. Do you want to read it?’. Ritsu thought he recognized the username as an Usami Akihiko reference and could only assume that it was a message from Saga.

After some deliberation and hesitation, Ritsu hit the ‘Yes’ option. It was a very simple message, saying: hey, this is Saga. Despite it being under five words, Ritsu still had to cover his red face with his hands. Ritsu had already been so weird about - well, everything - so he needed to be normal about this! He needed to respond like a normal person in a normal amount of time.

Ritsu took a deep breath, very carefully crafting his response in his head before he even dared to start typing. He also decided to wait at least five minutes before he sent a message back. Ten minutes would be better, but he doubted he could hold out for that long. He was staring at the little clock in the corner of the screen when he jumped at receiving another message.

Add me to your friends list.

Ritsu couldn’t explain why such a request made his heart pound. It took a bit of clicking around, but he was able to add Saga to something called his ‘Buddy List’. He then became determined to send his response.

Ritsu took a deep breath and finally brought his hands to the keyboard.

Saga waited impatiently for Ritsu to respond to him, staring at the computer screen with a soft huff. He was already very annoyed that Ritsu suddenly went home early without a satisfying explanation and now he was even more annoyed that Ritsu hadn’t messaged back right away. Having another form of contact was great, but not getting an immediate response and not being able to see Ritsu’s expressive face were definite drawbacks.

Saga started to wonder just what it was that Ritsu had to rush off to do. All he said was that he had to ‘leave early’. Could it have been a club meeting? Or maybe some kind of family engagement? Could Ritsu have been meeting up with a friend today? Maybe another guy?

Before Saga could brood too much over the mere thought of Ritsu giving someone else even the smallest sliver of attention, he received a message.

Hi, Senpai! I’m sorry for rushing off so suddenly earlier. Is your screen name a reference to Usami-sensei’s book 25th Century Nostalgia?

Saga sat up a little straighter, feeling a small smile tug at his lips as his heart strangely began to warm at Ritsu picking up on the novel reference. Of course he got it, I don’t why I expected anything else, he thought, affection for the underclassman welling up inside him. However, Saga only responded with: Yeah, it is. Have you read it? The question seemed pointless, but Saga was just trying to prompt Ritsu into talking about it more.

It worked like a charm as Cherryblossombooks is typing… popped up and Saga was soon graced with a paragraph of text both praising and analyzing the novel. Saga covered his mouth with a hand, trying to hide his smile that was widening.

God, he’s so cute, Saga thought. Before he could begin to formulate a response, Sorata decided he wasn’t getting nearly enough attention and jumped up onto the desk, walking all over the keyboard and accidentally sending an incomprehensible keysmash.

“Hey, get down.” Saga scolded, gently trying to shoo away the cat, but Sorata was both stubborn and displeased at that. The cat did his best to resist, but Saga ultimately picked him up and set him back down on the ground.

Is that some kind of acronym? Ritsu had sent in confusion.

Saga let out a small snort of amusement before typing, that was my cat walking all over the keyboard.

Oh, that makes a lot more sense! Haha!

Are you free tomorrow after school? Saga asked.

Yes! I shouldn’t have to rush off like I did today :)

The use of the emoticon made Saga imagine Ritsu’s cheery expression and his bright eyes, making Saga’s eagerness to see him increase.

Do you want to come over to my place tomorrow?

Cherryblossombooks is typing… appeared and disappeared several times. Saga could vividly imagine Ritsu’s panicked and nervous flailing at such a proposition. Idly, Saga wondered if Ritsu would ever get used to receiving such an invitation. Saga supposed the only solution was to keep inviting Ritsu over until he got used to it. Saga was of course willing to make such a sacrifice. For Ritsu’s future comfort. Of course. No other reason.

Way too many minutes passed considering it was a simple yes or no question, but eventually Saga received another message from Ritsu.

Yes, I would like that very much. Thank you for the invitation.

Saga tried not to laugh at how formal and subdued the response was. It certainly was missing that signature frazzled-Ritsu energy. He had no doubts that Ritsu had toned it down on purpose.

Him trying to play it cool somehow makes it cuter, ugh. It’s annoying, Saga thought, irritated with himself for finding even the simplest things about Ritsu adorable. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t understand how or why Ritsu had charmed him so thoroughly, but there was no denying that Saga was very much transfixed by his boyfriend.

My boyfriend.

Just the word itself made Saga’s heart skip a beat. This probably wasn’t good for his physical health - or his intelligence. He was acting more and more like a fool every day.

Okay, Saga typed after he realized he had yet to respond before he cringed just a tiny bit. He should probably say more than that, right?

Ritsu was already typing though, quickly sending another message: You still haven’t told me what you thought of 25th Century Nostalgia! You must like it if you made your name a reference, but I still want to know! Please?

Saga rolled his eyes in amusement at the small ‘please’. He was more than happy to indulge Ritsu’s request.

Plus, Saga knew that the more they talked about books, the longer he could likely keep Ritsu online chatting with him. Selfishly, Saga wanted to monopolize as much of Ritsu’s time as possible. He hoped that instant messaging would turn out to be the perfect opportunity to do so.

The two teens still hung out after school at the library nearly every day, and Ritsu still took up Saga’s offers to visit his home, but now on the nights where Ritsu couldn’t come over or couldn’t spend the night the two of them would end up chatting online. If it was really late Ritsu would only hop on for a half hour or so at the most, fearing getting caught by his parents, but Saga felt special knowing that Ritsu was risking getting in trouble just to talk to him for a little bit.

It was late now - and a school night - but Saga hoped he could manage to keep Ritsu’s attention off the clock so that they could talk past the half hour mark that was slowly, but surely approaching.

Saga, uncharacteristically, decided to exercise a little bit of patience as the Cherryblossombooks is typing… began to pop up and go away repeatedly. He smiled a little to himself, wondering what Ritsu could possibly want to say that was making him nervous this time.

Senpai, do you like me?

Saga blinked at the message, staring at it for a few moments in surprise. Why would Ritsu ask something like that? Saga spent as much of his free time as possible talking to Ritsu. They were dating, for God’s sake! Of course Saga liked him! Had Saga done something to make Ritsu think that he didn’t?

The indicator that Ritsu was typing popped up once again as Saga apparently hadn’t responded quick enough to soothe Ritsu’s insecurities.

I just mean, do you have any feelings for me? The younger teen attempted to clarify.

Saga couldn’t help but to shake his head and let out a laugh. Is he serious? Of course I like him. The idiot. Though, Saga supposed that made him an idiot too for liking Ritsu so much.

Saga typed out a response: I don’t like you, I love you.

However, he then thought twice about doing such a confession online. Shouldn’t he say something like that face to face? Ritsu obviously needed reassurance, but Saga felt like saying that in an instant message was somehow disingenuous. He started to delete it, getting about halfway through erasing the message when Sorata jumped up onto the desk with a loud, attention demanding meow.

“Not right now, Sorata.” Saga said in frustration, quickly grabbing him and putting him back on the floor. However, when he looked back at the screen he realized that Sorata had pressed send and Saga had sent an incomplete message reading: I don’t like you

Saga’s heart jumped into his throat, dread beginning to drown him as he typed as quickly as he could to try to rectify the mistake, but before he could do so his computer informed him that Cherryblossombooks had logged off.

Saga sent messages frantically regardless, hoping that Ritsu would see them when he logged back on,

i didnt mean to send t hat i swaer

i typed ‘i don’t likey ou, i love you’ but then starred to deletebit so i could say it to your face instead but then sorat a jumped up and hitt send

please beleive me i reallyl ike you ritus

**Ritsu

fuck im sorry

Saga leaned back in the chair and covered his face with his hands with a loud groan of despair. Sorata rubbed against his leg, unaware of the crime he had just committed. “Sorata. Get away from me right now.” Saga said miserably.

I have to let him know tomorrow that it was a mistake, Saga thought, anxious about what could possibly be going through Ritsu’s head right now. Fuck, what if he’s crying? He became extremely distressed at the mere thought and forced himself not to imagine such a heart-wrenching visual so he wouldn’t become a mess. Well, more of a mess.

After everything we’ve done together I can’t believe he really thought there was a possibility that I didn’t like him! God damn it, Saga groaned again.

He sent several more apologetic and reassuring messages to Ritsu, though doing so did not calm his aching heart whatsoever. Saga eventually tried to sleep, but he couldn’t rest at all. He spent the night worrying over his boyfriend (who now was under the impression that Saga didn’t like him at all) and itching for the next day to come quickly so he could see Ritsu after school.

I’ll clear everything up then, he’ll still come to the library, won’t he? Saga thought as he laid in bed, trying not to give in to the temptation to sit at the computer all night on the off chance that Ritsu logged back on. He’ll want some kind of explanation from me, won’t he? At the very least he should show up to tell me off for being a jerk. Either way, I’ll let him know the misunderstanding and make my feelings very, very clear for him so that he never questions it again. Saga hugged his pillow, burying his face in it. Ritsu had been coming around often enough for it to begin to faintly smell like him.

It made Saga hug the pillow tighter.

Saga was only running on about an hour of sleep the next day, but his nerves kept him wide awake throughout his classes. Once given the opportunity, Saga rushed off to the library. When not seeing Ritsu at their usual table, he felt a lump of worry form in his throat that he failed at swallowing down. He searched through the aisles of bookshelves, hoping there was a chance that Ritsu was browsing the selection, but Saga didn’t see him anywhere.

Ultimately, Saga decided to take a seat and wait.

And wait.

“I have to close the library soon.” The librarian informed Saga. “Are you staying after hours again?”

“Y-Yes. If that’s okay.”

The librarian was a little taken aback by the soft tone and upon further inspection saw dark circles under Saga’s eyes. “...Yes, it’s okay.”

“Thanks.” Saga said quietly, soon all alone in the library.

Ritsu hadn’t come.

He didn’t come the next day.

Or the next day.

Or the one after that.

Ritsu was gone.

“Were you ever on MySpace? Any cringey photos I should be scouring the internet for?” Kisa asked the new hire with glee, attempting to get to know him better and garner fuel for future teasing. The conversation had been bouncing back and forth between them for a while now, somehow leading them to this topic.

“Ah, no, I’ve never been into social media very much.” Ritsu answered with a small, slightly nervous laugh, surprised that their boss hadn’t already scolded them for chatting instead of working. “The closest I ever got was an AIM account I made when I was fifteen.”

“Oh? What was your username? Was it something really cringey?” Kisa asked with a laugh.

Takano was just about to yell at them, but then Ritsu turned a little red and it made Takano curious. He was a sucker for blushing brunettes, after all.

“It was, wasn’t it? Tell me!” Kisa poked at him.

“I-I just sort of made it up on the spot.” Ritsu said. “It was Cherryblossombooks, if I remember right…”

“Aw, honestly that’s kind of cute!” Kisa said.

Takano was going to have a heart attack.

#misscorn #day 6 2023 #onodera ritsu #takano masamune #kisa shouta #takaritsu week #sekaiichi hatuskoi #writing #haha nice @ my own writing #lmfao

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