#those moments are few and far between but i feel like during them we briefly see hannibal as something other than a distant and austere god

[grahamcore]

hot take for today: hannibal leaning out of that police car and saying “going my way?” to will in wrath of the lamb might be one of the best scenes in the whole show

[screamingcrows]

Chase - Dottore x reader

Note: Same reader as Tomorrow and Settling in. All of this is just stuff that will never make it into my long fic because those guys don't get to have the happiness these two will get. Keep this out of character ai bots or I'm spreading Pseudomonas aeruginosa in your garden.

Tags: fem reader, reader from Fontaine, she works under him, anger, talk of murder, weapon, angst?

MINORS, AGELESS, BLANK BLOGS DNI

"Doctor? I need to ask you a question," her voice was a far cry from the usual sharpness.

Dottore laid his pen down before taking in her face. It was uncanny how easily her voice could halt his thoughts. Faint traces of salt lingered along her cheeks, but worse still were her eyes. He motioned for her to continue, unwilling to break the delicate silence.

"Why do you pursue knowledge?"

That caused him to pause. She should know, by all means, it was a fact well known throughout the Fatui. But if she needed to hear, there was no harm repeating himself. It was a quiet day after all.

"As you know, there is a discrepancy between what information we, as inhabitants of this world, are allowed to possess and-"

"That wasn't my question," she hadn't snapped at him like that before.

He couldn't help but scrunch his nose in distaste as he briefly considered reprimanding her. The way her flame had wavered during the last month hadn't been lost on him.

Too many nights she would stay long past what was necessary, his segments conveying that they'd found her collapsed atop her desk, freezing cold and difficult to rouse.

"Pose your question better."

"What drives you? What do you want to see at the end of this? I guess," her words faltered when she finally arrived at the right question. "What do you feel when you achieve a goal?"

"A sense of satisfaction from unraveling a mystery, from solving a problem, accompanied of course by a barrage of new objectives to pursue"

His eyes flickered up to her and he found his hand reaching for the mask, diverting the movement to run his fingers through his hair instead. At the first sound of her quiet sniffles he turned his head away, crossing one leg over the other. Something so foreign and so desperately familiar was taking root.

"I feel.. I feel nothing. Like some pitiful ghost that can't move on. And I hate myself for it. Because it means they were right," her voice grew more frantic along with her sobs.

She'd begun pacing back and forth in front of the desk, the force of her steps making his pens rattle in their cup. Dottore felt it in his bones.

"I killed all those people, and it felt so good while they clawed out their eyes. So why is it so empty now? I proved myself, proved that I could, my idea worked a-and they're all dead for doubting me!"

Her frantic laughter rang through the room, making his hands tighten around the armrests. There was nothing he would say to console her, knowing there were only two options from here. It was not something to be driven by another's hand.

"It's not fair!"

The worn desk creaked with the force of her fists bearing down upon it. When he looked upon her again tears adorned her cheeks, and for a moment there was an itch to reach out and brush them away. Run a finger along her bottom lip, swollen from how she'd been chewing on it. Like so much else, it never became more than a simple fantasy.

"Did you expect to bury your troubles along with their bodies?"

"I-.. Well, yes. Obviously."

He had to bite back a chuckle, the hesitation in her voice confirmed his suspicion. She did know better than that. Taking a life out of vengeance was one thing, but living with the consequences was an entirely different issue.

With a small sigh, Dottore reached forward towards where she was leaning over the table, head hanging in defeat. He caught the longing in her eyes when she noticed the approaching hand. It was difficult not to wince when the look was replaced with disappointment when his gloved hand pulled a few things back from the edge.

"You knew it wouldn't make me feel any better," venom laced your words, unsurprising but still unpleasant to hear.

"Yes."

At least her crying had ceased, reduced to nothing but faint sniffles while she rubbed at her eyes. Her voice had risen in pitch, the sound uncomfortably invasive.

"You let me work myself to near-death knowing it was for nothing?"

"We now have a terrifying new weapon in our arsenal, and I'm sure you can improve upon it. I'll get one of the segments working on something to more efficiently deliver it, perhaps we should-"

Dottore tilted his head to the side, narrowly avoiding the pen she'd thrown at him. For a moment, everything stood still as he awaited her next action. There was nothing but the faint sound of his heel repeatedly hitting the ground. Had he misjudged her?

"You absolute bastard, you.. you.."

It was difficult to remain a spectator when the realization became comically clear in her expression. Oh he hadn't misjudged her at all. She knew. What had transpired was entirely by her own choice.

A small curse passed his lips when she threw a mug onto the floor, porcelain shattering alongside her resolve. There was barely time to stop her when she stormed out of the laboratory. Perhaps a segment could check on her later.

[writtenjewels]

One Bed night 3

Night One, Night Two

This time, it was Salim who woke first. He found Jason asleep, his fingers having loosened their grip on Salim's shirt, his head tilted toward Salim's fingers. Salim's heart beat a little faster noticing their closeness. Warmth swelled deep in his body. His eyes flicked to the freckles scattered on Jason's cheeks. His fingers twitched as he fought the impulse to touch—hair, cheek, hand, anywhere. Salim let out a breath and pulled away. He would claim the first shower this morning and be rid of the bulge pressing against his crotch.

Salim felt much calmer when he exited the bathroom. He found Jason awake and waiting his turn. The young marine's half-asleep expression shifted to something more alert. Salim suddenly wished he hadn't chosen to walk out of the bathroom in just his underwear. He didn't give his middle-aged, hairy body much thought, but after seeing the more lean and hairless Jason, he couldn't help the sudden attack of self-consciousness.

“Mornin',” Jason drawled. “You wanna head to breakfast together?”

“Sure,” Salim agreed. He padded over to get dressed while Jason showered. He wished there could be some balance between how casual and easy it could feel between them, and how tense and awkward.

They spent the day on tours again, only they experienced all the tours together. Salim had discovered yesterday that touring was a lot like how Jason described drinking: not as fun alone. Besides that, Jason usually whispered a funny remark during the tours. It added a bit of playful energy to everywhere they went. They ate lunch and dinner together, chatting and teasing each other the whole time.

After dinner, they strolled past shops. Now and then they paused to look at what was in the display windows before moving on. They eventually found their way to a bar. Salim remembered suggesting they have drinks tonight. He wasn't surprised Jason was going to make him see that promise through.

Inside, the atmosphere was a little loud with televisions going. Salim pointed to a table away from all the noise.

“You sure you're okay with this?” Jason asked once they sat. “It ain't haram or whatever?” Salim's eyebrows shot up; he had talked about halal and haram with Jason over breakfast, but didn't expect the man to remember.

“I think Allah will forgive me having one drink with a friend,” he responded. “What game is that?” He nodded to the televisions meaningfully.

“Basketball,” Jason told him after a quick glance. “It' ain't really my thing.”

“Yes, I remember. Something about a Super Bowl?” Salim smiled at the memory. He, of course, hadn't understood a word Jason said at the time. It sounded good, and Jason seemed so pleased, so the gleeful energy had rubbed off. Jason met his smile; the gleam in his eyes assured he was remembering, too.

A waiter came by and took their very simple order of two beers. They were given bottles within minutes.

“Cheers.” Jason lifted his bottle.

“Cheers,” Salim echoed, and they tapped before taking a swallow. Salim tried not to immediately cough his out. “Ugh, it's been a very long time since I drank.”

“No hoppin' through single bars, huh?” Jason teased.

“I don't think we have those in my town. I wasn't ready to find out.” Salim took another small sip. Jason mimicked him and the two fell silent, listening to the game and the chatter around them. “So, did you, ah... hop single bars?” Salim asked after a moment.

“Nope.” Jason shifted a little on his seat. His eyes flicked briefly to Salim, then dropped to the table. “Weren't any I liked.”

“Do you like this one?”

Jason's eyes flicked up again and he shrugged. “So far.”

Eventually the conversation moved on to other things. They finished their beers and spent a few minutes watching the game. Or rather, Salim stared at the screen listening to Jason explain what was happening. It might not have been his thing, but he still understood it far better than Salim.

They made it back to their room, where Jason went to the bathroom first to brush his teeth while Salim got undressed. An unexpected heaviness weighed down when he thought of them only spending one more night together. The experience was so much better than he could have anticipated.

“Hey.” Jason's head poked out of the bathroom. “You gonna wear one of those dumb pun shirts?”

“I thought you liked my pun shirts,” Salim retorted, turning to face the younger man. He was much less conscious of his bare chest than this morning.

“I do.” Jason flashed a smile. “It's why I asked.”

“Which one's your favorite?” Jason took a moment to answer. Salim found his eyes gravitating to the dog-tags resting against Jason's bare skin.

“The omelette.” Jason's answer snapped Salim out of his daze.

They switched so Salim could use the bathroom. He stepped out and found Jason already under the sheets. Something about that made Salim feel warm all over. He went over to check the air conditioning to make sure the settings were okay. They looked fine, so he went around to his side of the bed and got in.

“Nice shirt,” Jason noted.

“You said you liked it,” Salim reminded him. Jason just smiled. That air conditioning couldn't be working, because Salim was still warm. “That ball game was interesting,” Salim spoke up. “I didn't think American balls were round.”

“You see many American balls?” Jason asked. The way he dipped his voice sounded almost suggestive.

“There's what you call a football,” Salim pointed out. “It's not round.”

“I don't think you can judge our balls from just one.” There was that tone in Jason's voice again.

“I feel like you're messing with me, but I can't figure out how.”

“Give it time.” Jason looked like he was fighting not to laugh. “It'll come to ya.” Salim frowned at him while Jason kept grinning. There was a playful brightness in his eyes that Salim recognized from the other times he teased Salim.

Salim ran through their conversation in his head again. Oh. His mouth dropped open and his eyes widened. Jason snickered.

“That,” Salim declared, “was an awful joke.” He pointed to the words on his shirt. “Omelette that slide.” Jason laughed, leaning forward just enough to let his tags dangle in the space between them.

“You always been such a dork?”

“Probably.” Salim reached out to catch the tags between his fingers. “But I think you like it.”

“Probably,” Jason nodded. They sat there for a few heartbeats. There was a charged energy in the space. Salim broke it by releasing the tags. He reclined on the mattress, Jason following a moment later. The silence continued stretching on. Salim knew Jason had to be hearing his thoughts, but the marine didn't say so.

After a while Jason wiggled a bit and propped his arm on the pillow just above Salim's head. His fingertips lightly brushed against Salim's hair. Salim swallowed; he had unconsciously done the same last night. He closed his eyes and let himself feel it all.

[jesuis-assez]

I know we’re all struggling with this endless hiatus and the lack of new content, so I thought it would be fun to resurrect the #chenfordchats that were circling around the fandom earlier this year. (I can’t remember if you were here at the time, but you can search that tag to see what it’s all about… it’s basically just a Q&A.) We previously did a question on favorite Tim Bradford quotes, so this time let’s do Lucy! What are your favorite 3-5 (or more if you want) Lucy Chen quotes from the entire series 😊

I started watching the show in February of this year 🤔 Ok. More like binged. It took me a LONG (I do mean long) time before I decided to watch The Rookie. It was the gif-sets on tumblr, that first had me interested. It seems this is where I do my show shopping 🤣.

Although, I had been following people, who were\are invested in the show, or rather Tim and Lucy. I've been here in spirit since the pilot. I remember seeing gif-sets going that far back. Well into...

Lucy saving Tim on her SECOND SHIFT (not first)

Them sharing a drink together in what could be their final moments on earth

Lucy pranking Tim on her last day as a rookie (There were a few people upset that this meant they'll never bring them together)

The prelude of romantic chenford in 3x14 with Tim undressing Lucy with his eyes in her green dress. All the flirting that happened there.

The almost kiss in 4x01 with them lying awake in separate rooms with thoughts of each other, wanting to give in and go to the other.

Tim pranking Lucy in 4x21 and people uncertain whether they were actually going there with them

Them finally kissing in 4x22 with everyone losing their minds and few people worried that the show might not get picked up for a s5

Their undercover episode in 5x01 and everyone excited to see what will unfold from there.

I had no context. I literally thought these two were like every other cop show, where they were just partners. Partners who had feelings for each other, that they just hadn't realized it yet. I had no idea they were training officer and rookie, then eventually friends\partner\co-workers.

So, I had been lurking for a long time. I already knew everything that had happened with Tim and Lucy. I knew they were together and I thought... Well, now is the time. Kind of a... You don't want to start something, unless it feels right kind of thing? I also didn't want to watch, get invested in them only for them not to be together.

My first gif-set was around the time that Tim and Lucy broke up 🤣 I came along during the chaos of that. I do remember chenfordchats coming back after season 6 wrapped up. I was a part of that briefly.

And I remember favourite quotes between the two of them being a prompt for the Lucy\Tim appreciation event. At the time, I could only think of one quote that really resonated with me from Lucy, which was this one:

Bare with me.. I do not feel very wordy today 🤣 So imma push through that.

Lucy spent the entirety of this episode feeling that she had to prove she was strong enough to be able to testify against Rosalind Dyer. That this is something she had to do. That's always been Lucy. She's always felt like she has something to prove. Either to herself or to others. Feeling that she's not good enough. Or that she'll let others down. Whether that be to her parents (Where this likely stems from), her career, Tim and working undercover. And to see her come to that realisation that this is something that she doesn't need to prove to anyone was such a powerful moment. For her to own that.

Tim's words from 2x12 having had such an impact on her, to have stayed with her all this time. Those words still providing her a sense of comfort and empowerment. To see her step back into her own power, after seeing her touch that tattoo all episode long (something she always does, as sort of a habit. Her way of reminding herself that she can get through this as well. Get through another major ordeal) , a permanent reminder of what she went through. It's like she uses that as a way to draw in some strength needed in the moment. But, also it being a reminder of her being able to turn that truly horrific and traumatic event in her life into something positive.

That she survived that. That tattoo no longer being a representation of her being a 'victim' of this only being something that was done to her, but rather a survivor, who can handle any challenge or battle that comes her way (because she is capable and has proven that many times before)

I dug a little deeper, and managed to come up with at least five more:

That is exactly what Tim needed to hear in that moment and the right thing she could've said, as someone who hasn't been through that. Especially someone who is coming into this from an outsider's perspective. Tim's sister had a completely different experience of abuse to that of what he experienced, despite living in the same household.

I really feel that Genny emotionally invalidated what Tim went through. She completely trivialized his long-term trauma of abuse from their father, because she came out of that differently. She found a way to reconcile with their father and come to terms with everything that happened, so therefore he should as well. Just the lack of empathy and how insensitive she was towards him to force this issue on him. He needed to deal with that in his own way, or at least have the choice (even if it's unhealthy) to not deal with it at all. The audacity she had to show up at his workplace and demand that of him, to unpack all of that trauma for her convenience. I won't delve into this extensively.. Maybe some other time, if I even remember or want to 🤣

But, in a nutshell... Lucy's influence, empathy, careful choice of words and understanding of who Tim is as a person is what allows Tim to see that he and his sister need to be a source of support for each other during this. Y'know... It not being so 'one sided' where it's only about Genny's feelings about their childhood and what she wants, to the point of Tim's feelings being disregarded.

And then there's this scene: ( I'll touch on it a little bit)

I love what Lucy says to Tamara here. This is a scene that really cultivates Lucy's character. Who she is and the kind of cop she is and continues to aspire to be. Her ability to see people for who they really are behind the masks they show everyone else. Her way of being there for others and never giving up on them. Showing Tamara through kindness and empathy, that she has better options and that she is someone she can trust. There is better out there. Lucy was really someone Tamara needed in her life, someone who genuinely wanted to support and help her. She didn't write her off as just some troubled youth, but as someone who was really struggling. A kid in need. In need of family, friendship, support, love, guidance, kindness.. a home. All these things that Lucy would eventually give her and effectively change her life for the better. Ooh .. I teared up a little bit on this one 🤣

Honorable mentions:

+

Thank you for the ask 💖✌ You are a very beautiful writer, may you never lose your love for that and always feel connected to it . [x] Your story here is beautifully written as most of your stories often are. It's the one I instantly thought of, when your writing came to mind. The first story of yours that my mind happily stored away.

The plot for this being so unique and wonderfully crafted to wove together a truly beautiful piece of writing. I hope you feel incredibly proud of your writing, as your newest stories reflect how much dedication and growth that has transpired since then.

[headcanonsandmore]

"A Well-Earned Rest"

Summary: Barbara Wright and Ian Chesterton have finally gotten back to safety after the events of "The Romans". However, it seems their time spent apart from each other has helped them both evaluate their feelings for each other…

~~~~~~~~ Read on AO3

~~~~~~~~~

Barbara Wright finished brushing her hair, and left her room.

It was a sunny day, as most of the days in Italy had been so far, and the sunshine gave the air a slightly hazy feel, as if it were the soft edge of a dream. Barbara smiled as the warm wind delicately brushed against her skin.

A few hours had passed since Ian and her had arrived back at the villa. Both of them had headed to their separate rooms to get changed and take some well-earned rest. During the journey back to the villa from Rome, they had mostly concerned themselves with staying as inconspicuous as possible. They hadn’t wanted to draw attention, after all.

Now that they were back, they simply wanted to relax a little and wait for the Doctor and Vicki to return from Rome.

Barbara had walked off to her room, leaving Ian sleeping peacefully in the inner courtyard of the villa. She hadn’t been gone long; just enough time to give her hair a quick brush and stretch her legs a little. Sure enough, Ian was still dozing where she had left him.

Barbara didn’t immediately sit down next to him, though. Instead, she stood for a few moments, watching her friend with a soft smile.

She sighed, gently.

Oh, she had missed Ian very much during the time they had been separated. In many different ways.

Ways that she had already started to suspect were not simply platonic.

Oh, who was she kidding? Her feelings for Ian had not been platonic for a very long time. Come to think of it, even before they had ended up in the TARDIS, she had found herself looking forward to those fleeting moments between them each day. Smiling glances in the school corridors, a gentle nudge of the shoulder during assembles, and chuckling conversations in the staff room.

Not to mention the evenings with heavy fog and smog, when Ian would offer to drive her home.

Barbara’s heart beat slightly faster at the thought.

But maybe that was unfair of her. After all, Ian had been nothing but a gentleman the entire time she had known him. They had been through so much together and, while Ian clearly did care for her, surely it wasn’t in quite the same way that Barbara cared for him.

Surely not. Barbara would just be overthinking things otherwise.

Because… oh, sometimes she could swear that Ian’s face softened when he looked at her, in a way quite unlike the way he looked at anyone else. His eyes would become far gentler, and his mouth would curve into a smile so soft that it took Barbara’s breath away.

Ian stirred, and his eyes opened. Blearily, he looked around before his gaze settled on Barbara. His mouth stretched into a smile.

‘Everything alright?’

Barbara chuckled.

‘Yes. Did you have a nice rest?’

‘Absolutely wonderful,’ Ian grinned, as he sat up and stretched. His muscles flexed slightly under his toga. ‘Sorry, did my snoring keep you awake?’

‘Not at all,’ Barbara said, returning his grin. ‘I just needed to stretch my legs.’

Barbara could have sworn that she imagined it, but… did Ian’s eyes just flip down to her legs? Surely not.

Ian gave a cough and then cleared his throat, diverting his eyes away.

Feeling rather flustered all of a sudden, Barbara looked away briefly, taking slow breaths to try and regulate her heartbeat. What… what had just happened?

After a few moments, Barbara’s pulse seemed to relax, and she settled for sitting down to Ian.

‘Lovely weather today, isn’t it?’

Ian nodded.

‘Quite wonderful, indeed,’ he said. ‘I just hope we don’t get sunburnt. I remember getting red as a lobster on a family trip to the seaside; hurt like anything.’

Barbara let out a chuckle, and Ian seemed to smile softly to himself as he listened to her laugh.

‘I can imagine little Ian, running around in short trousers and scuffed knees.’

‘I’ll have you know I was a boy scout; the scuffed knees were a badge of honour!’

The two of them chuckled.

‘I was never much of a girl guide,’ Barbara said. ‘Everyone always said I was too bossy.’

‘Jealousy, no doubt,’ Ian replied, with a grin. ‘For what it’s worth, I think you’re wonderful when you’re being bossy.’

‘Cheek!’ Barbara laughed, swatting him on the shoulder with her hand. ‘Sometimes, you’re like an overgrown schoolboy!’

‘Only sometimes?’ Ian chortled. ‘I thought you’d been around me enough to notice that, Barbara.’

‘That’s true. We have been together rather a long time.’

‘We have, indeed,’ Ian said, with a chuckle. ‘Hopefully you haven’t gotten tired of me yet?’

Barbara chuckled.

‘Of course not,’ she said. Their eyes met, and Barbara’s heartrate increased again. For a moment, the two of them stared at each other.

‘Er… Barbara?’

‘Yes?’

‘We never really discussed what happened in Rome.’

‘O-oh, did we not?’

‘Barbara…’-Ian’s face was concerned-‘Did… did something to you in Nero’s court?’

‘Er…’

Barbara trailed off, unsure of how to explain.

‘Well, Nero seemed to like me rather a lot,’ she said, not quite meeting Ian’s eyes. ‘I… well, he kept suggesting that… er…’

Ian’s face had gone very stiff, and his jaw had set.

‘I’ll kill him,’ he said, jumping to his feet. ‘I’m going to kill that entitled monster of a-’

‘Ian, no!’ Barbara said, quickly standing up as well. ‘While he was persistent, he never managed to…’

‘That doesn’t excuse it!’ Ian exclaimed. ‘Men shouldn’t treat you like that!’

‘You don’t treat me like that!’

‘Of course I don’t! How could I? I…’

Ian’s face flushed, and he looked away. He blinked quickly.

‘I-Ian?’ Barbara said, softly. ‘What… what were you going to say?’

‘Oh, come off it, Barbara,’ Ian said, with a sad chuckle. ‘It’s not as if I’ve been subtle about it.’

Barbara’s heart leapt into her mouth.

‘W-what?’ she stammered. ‘You… do you…’

‘Of course I do!’ Ian exclaimed, with a nervous laugh. ‘Barbara, I’ve been in love with you for… well, rather a long time.’

Barbara could feel the blood rushing in her ears. It wasn’t possible! Surely, she wasn’t that lucky.

‘O-oh,’ she said, very quietly. ‘I… I see.’

‘Yes, and I never said anything about it because I knew you don’t care for me in the same way,’ Ian said, with a soft smile. ‘I’ve accepted that, so please don’t feel pity. You’re my friend, after all, and… well, I’m happy just to know-’

Ian stopped talking because, at that moment, Barbara had leaned forward and pressed her lips to his. Ian startled, but did not pull away. Slowly, he leaned into the kiss.

Barbara felt her eyes sparkle with tears, and she clung to Ian, finding comfort as he gently wrapped his arms around her. They stayed like that for several moments… or was it several days? Barbara wasn’t sure. All she knew was that she should have done this a long time ago.

Eventually, though, their lips did part.

‘I take it that’s a “I love you too”?’

‘Oh, shush!’ Barbara chuckled, swatting him softly on the arm. ‘Of course it is!’

Ian’s smile was wider and brighter than she had ever seen before. It was almost like staring into the sun.

He wrapped one arm around Barbara’s shoulders, and she leaned into his side, smiling as they settled down onto the seats again. The two of them found themselves dozing off in each other’s arms.

Yes, Barbara thought, maybe she was this lucky after all.

~~~~~~~~~

Thanks for reading, everyone; I hope you enjoyed reading my first attempt at an Ian/Barbara fic! I do have more planned in the future alongside my usual Tegan/Nyssa stuff, so stay tuned!

[benjinoff13]

CATWS through a blackhill lens

part 1: Fury’s “death”

before i get into this is just wanna say that these are just my headcanons, when i have a non canon ship i like to find a way to ship them that allows me to still enjoy the canon story meaning i often find a way around the story that we get, this means that with blackhill i have to find a way around nat and steve, nat and bruce, but most importantly, the undeniable tension between nat and maria in catws, if you don’t like blackhill or disagree with this that’s fine, just don’t read

in my headcanon nat and maria get together during their shield days, maybe even before we first meet nat in iron man 2, i believe they're going strong during avengers and their relationship is tested during catws which i will discuss in these posts

there's a lot happening in catws and blackhill wise i think it's by far the most interesting movie, i'll be discussing several scenes but this post is about fury's "death"

when the scene where fury is in surgery starts we see nat and steve looking into the operating room (i won't be discussing how weird it is that they can do that), steve is already there and nat joins him in the room, on the left we can see maria on the phone

pretty soon maria joins nat and steve, she looks into the operating room for a second, the three of them briefly discuss what happened which leads to my favorite canon blackhill moment, nat guesses the bullets that were used to shoot fury are soviet made and maria confirms this by simply saying "yeah", now this doesn't sound like anything interesting but i recommend ya’ll to rewatch this scene cause the way she says it is just so so soft, with the way she says this one simple word maria is trying to say "i'm here for you, i know this is hard, this isn't your fault, you did everything you could, it's gonna be okay, i love you" because she can't say those actual words, she cant hold nat's hand and hug her an let her fall apart against her, neither of them want that, both because there's other people there and because nat isn't ready to feel her feelings like that just yet, she doesn't want to accept this and she doesn't want to acknowledge her grief, maria knows this

maria also knows better than anyone what fury meant to nat, he was (is) the closest thing nat had to a father and at this point he’s one of the very few people that know about her relationship with maria, maria knows losing fury would mean losing a family member, knowing what it means to nat and also losing someone very important herself we can tell that maria is extremely emotional, i have to say that to me it isn't clear whether maria knows fury's death is fake at this point but considering her reaction i don't think she knows, maria is a good liar but nobody can act that well

after the doctors call time of death steve walks away (it's important to note there are still a few people standing behind maria and nat, at no point are they alone during this scene), we get these two shots of just maria and nat that i am absolutely in love with, the first is of both of them still looking into the o.r. we can tell both of them are absolutely distraught, as i said before fury meant a lot to them both as individuals and to their relationship, nat is absolutely speechless which doesn't happen often and our “hardass hill" has a red nose from stress and crying, if you rewatch the scene you can even see maria’s lip quivering

in the second shot we see maria leaning against the windowsill in front of them, i interpret this is her offering her hand in case nat wants to take it, you can see her left hand is at shoulder width while the right hand reaches towards nat, she would never take nat's hand in front of coworkers without asking and she also wants to give nat space which we will later learn she needs a lot, but she wants to offer that comfort to natasha regardless, maria taps her finger a few times to draw nat’s attention to her hand and to tell her she can hold it if she needs to, after a few second natasha still doens't take maria's hand, it’s too much, too soft, there’s too many people there, she simply can’t

in the next scene we see nat saying goodbye to fury with steve standing in the back, again it start with the two of them and then maria enters the scene, she tells steve that she needs to take fury's body, by saying this she implies she wants steve to tell nat it's time, we don't know if maria and nat talked in between these scenes but i don't think they did, i believe their relationship started to slip after new york and fury's "death" was the final drop, there's so much strain on their relationship and they're both going through so much that at this point they're feeling more distant from each other than they have in years, natasha shuts herself off and puts her walls back up that maria spent years breaking down, they're scared that if they talk about what's going on they'll either break down and lose sight of the mission or lose each other, so they don't talk at all

again we see maria more emotional than we have ever seen or will ever see her, after a few second steve goes to get nat

and then this last shot i'll talk about is also the most heartbreaking to me, i can't imagine how heartwrenching is must be for maria to not be able to comfort nat in this situation and have to see someone else try to do this, deep down she wants to wrap nat in her arms and let both nat and herself break down but neither of them have time for that so instead she watches the love of her life lose one of the most important people to her and be comforted by her new friend that they barely know, first she looks at them, then she simply can't bare it anymore and looks away, she can't look at fury's body, she can't look at natasha's heartbroken expression and she can't look at steve standing in the spot she should be in, so she looks away

finally nat walks away and maria can't resist, she glances towards nat, she has to look at her, one second of eye contact will tell her enough, will nat leave forever or will she come back to her, will she feel her feelings or will she focus too much on the mission and self destruct, will she dissapear or will she break her old pattern, nat doesn't look up, so maria never finds out what she needs to know, and more importantly, she doesn't get to look into nat's eyes which is the only thing that could bring her the slightest bit of comfort and ease

part 2: the bunker scene (coming soon)

part 3: nat and steve (coming soon)

part 4: snippets (coming soon)

[rayalltheway]

A New Approach (LWAU Fic)

Aka, Zhuāng Jié (LMK OC) meets MK and the gang.

------

MK was trying to figure out how to function as a hero and as a mostly full-grown person by himself for more than a few minutes at a time. He really was. 

So the fact that the worst things seemed to happen when his friends were out of his general vicinity for as much as five seconds was seriously putting a damper on that endeavour.  

They had only left their last campsite half-a-day prior on their journey to the west (MK had spent a good part of those hours trying to think of a cool sequel name to give their adventure),  but a sudden engine problem with T.E.A. had forced them to take refuge at an abandoned mountainside castle so Sandy could fix it up, everyone else discussing staying there for the approaching night. 

“I dunno….” Pigsy huffed as everyone stood in the entryway of the castle, looking up at the old, likely structurally unsafe building apprehensively. “I thought the plan was to limit our stops more and more. Specially’ considering what we got on our heels.”

“Yeah, and we’re only a week away from Lantern City.” Mei chimed in, sitting on a rock and stretching out her legs after sitting in the van for the last several hours. “I want this to be over already….” She sounded particularly restless at that moment, which MK chalked up to van fever.

“To keep going would certainly be ideal…” Tang began, adjusting his glasses, looking out over the cliff the castle stood upon, built into the mountain. “But Lady Bone Demon’s power can only spread so fast across the world when she isn’t there herself, and we got a considerable head start.” He explained, going to Pigsy’s side in assurance. 

“Smart guy here is right.” Monkey King spoke up, drifting between Tang and Pigsy (inadvertently pushing the two apart, much to both their charaign) on his somersault cloud, which he had hardly left once he found himself able to summon it again earlier. “We can afford to stay here a night. Not like there’s anything out there we don’t already know about, or can’t see coming from miles away.” He continued, leaning casually back on his cloud.

His nonchalance earned another huff from an already-irritated Pigsy. “Yeah, you seem to know a LOT of things…” He grumbled, but everyone agreed to pitch camp, and Sandy was content to join them after finishing work on the van. 

The others entered the castle, intent on finding materials to start a fire – MK briefly hearing Monkey King muse that he might have recognized the castle as one he came upon during his own journey west, with Mei in turn remarking that the numerous signs of damage around the place was a fairly good indication of that idea. 

MK spent some time looking around the place, but he wasn’t too curious – night was coming, and given recent events, darkness in general was becoming something that MK was adding to his ever-growing list of anxieties. He didn’t feel nervous yet – Monkey King had to be right, there couldn’t be anyone else watching them that he didn’t already know about, but staying on the move mostly kept those thoughts at bay. Even so, he felt they were actually doing better than ever so far, given they had a head start they were only getting more miles on, and were about a week away from the Lantern City. 

MK felt himself become more at ease with that in mind – they were getting all the more closer to finally ending this nightmare. They could afford to have a spontaneous pit-stop, eat the rest of the mooncakes they got from Chang’e and pretend this was just a regular road-trip for a few hours – 

Oh, wow, it was cold here. 

MK felt himself shuddering as the sudden frigid draft pricked his fingers and neck. He let out a shaky breath as he quickly adjusted his jacket collar before jamming his hands under arms, turning back to call out to the others – not realising he had wandered into another room of the castle while lost in thought. 

“Heeyy, guys?” He called out, beginning to walk back from where he thought could hear the others, as it sounded like Monkey King and Mei were still arguing. 

“Come on pony girl, those wall-holes could of been left by anyone–”

A cracking sound filled the air, halting everyone where they stood, including MK – with more booming cracks followed by the castle groaning discontentedly. The air got colder, and sharper – and MK finally remembered where he had felt this chill before, just as a sharp, jagged spike of ice shot out from the floor at his feet. He yelped and fell on his behind, using his feet to propel himself backwards in fear. 

It was her power. The sounds of the castle straining and breaking against the ice continued all around as more began to jut out of the floor, and MK gasped when he saw the ice was growing near the entrance of the room. His legs practically pinwheeled as he leapt to his feet, running out with mere moment to spare, straining to hear where his friends were.

“Lady Bone Demon?! Is she here?!” MK heard Pigsy shouting, a couple rooms away.

“This is her power – it’s caught up to us!” He then heard Tang respond, before hearing his trademark shrieking telling everyone that they had to get out of there. Well, obviously.

“Wait, where’s MK?!” He then heard Mei yell. That was enough for him to finally snap out of his confused panic, running to where he thought their voices were coming from, feeling the ice nip his heels, catching the sight of ice crawling up the walls.

“Guys, get out! I’m right behind you!” MK called out, running as fast as he could to reach them. He almost had to bite back tears as he thought about how he still wasn’t back to full strength with his powers, and he couldn’t hope to tap into anything with this invasive, chilling bone demon power pressing around him. He turned a corner – and screamed when he saw an array of icy spikes blocking his path, and heading right for him as an extra touch. Whipping his head to look at the way only promised a similar fate – he had nowhere to go unless he jumped out the hall’s windows and hoped his powers wouldn’t falter on him. 

With the ice spikes reaching up to his head, he decided he’d take that chance. He began to move –

– Before he felt something grab the collar of his jacket and jerk him backwards. He didn’t anticipate the feeling of falling, panicking as his hold of gravity left him momentarily. But he soon found himself being held up on stone steps after hearing a doorway slide shut, realising he was dragged into a dark passageway going down that he hadn’t noticed, away from the path of ice. Any relief he might have felt was quickly dashed when he felt himself getting picked up once more, only able to let out a startled yelp as he was pinned against the wall with nothing to do but stare up at –

“Mac–”

“No.” 

MK’s panic was immediately silenced by the deep voice under the red hood he had glanced at, immediately making him assume this assailant was the shadow monkey in question, until his eyes actually took in the looming figure. While their expression was shrouded in shadow, MK could still see the shape of a face, and a dark, cold, human eye glaring at him in a way that utterly froze him where he was. It wasn’t Macaque – but whoever this was sure wasn’t any less intimidating. 

“You should know better than to isolate yourself, Monkie Kid.” They hissed through their teeth – before pulling MK from the wall and into the descending passage. 

——————————————————————————————————

MK soon found himself getting dragged by the male stranger through a secret entrance to the castle tunnelled through the mountain, coming into a small forest side clearing bathed in moonlight. It was there the man finally released him, MK recoiling out of his grasp and nearly tripping against a rock as he tried to resolve his bearings enough to take up a defensive stance. “What do you want?” He demanded. 

“A bit more caution from you, for a start.”  Came the man’s response, his hard but weary tone steeped in impatience as he scanned the exit they came from, seemingly checking whether or not they were followed. “You could have killed yourself in two completely different ways back there.”

“Hey, I’m the Monkie Kid, guy.” MK retorted, putting a fist to his chest as he mustered up as much of his superhero confidence as he could manage. “You don’t know that.” 

“You’d be surprised by what I do, kid.” The man shot back, still not looking at MK, circling the clearing expertly as he continued to examine for any sign of intrusion. With his back turned, MK finally noticed the long, bladed polearm weapon strapped to his back — the pointed reminder that he didn’t have his staff sinking into his gut. 

“I know that while you have power on your side, it’s not as much as it could be, thanks to her.” The man continued, and MK’s eyebrows shot up, and an icy chill passed through him, thinking of the pain in his head whenever Lady Bone Demon was around. But he didn’t feel it now, so…

“How do you know Lady Bone Demon? O-or me?” He asked, his voice shaking despite himself.

“I’ve been following her trail for a long time, and yours for days.” His blunt reply came as he pressed his ear against a tree, while MK did a double take at that last bit. 

“Hah??”

After a moment on his end, the man seemed satisfied that they were alone, standing back upright and turning so MK could feel that glare on him again – but rather than threatening, it felt more…scolding, something like the looks Pigsy would give him when he slacked off instead of delivering his noodle orders. 

“Nice to know you never even noticed.” Came the man’s chiding tone – and MK, in spite of this being a complete stranger with no reasonable authority over him, felt himself shrink a little. 

“You’re dealing with a spirit, not just a demon.” He continued, and with that baffling statement spoken, he turned to face MK completely, throwing back his hood. “So you and your friends are going to have to get better at knowing when you’re being watched by one.”

He was…old. A truly old man, with at least a decade on Pigsy or Tang – wrinkles lining his sharply handsome features, with long grey hair partly tied in a bun on the back of his head. Strangely, he wore a suit of armour under his weatherworn red cloak – the traditional kind of armour that MK recognized from illustrations in Journey to the West, but much more simple and way more worn out. Monkey King always wore clothes from centuries in the past, but this guy fully looked like just stepped out of a completely different time period. 

But aside from the dated fashion, he would look like a completely normal human…if it wasn’t for the fact that his left eye, which had two jagged red scars running over it, was a empty black, with an glowing red pinprick where an iris and pupil should be – directed at MK in a piercing glare.

“…..What??” MK wondered aloud, his mind spinning at the assault of all this new, confusing information. “Why would – who – ok, time out.” The young man stammered out, shaking his head and throwing up his hands. “So, apparently you’ve been following us, but you’re not with Lady Bone Demon, and just now you kidnapped me to…to give me advice?” He questioned, fully vexed. 

“To get you out of there.” The man replied as he pointed into the distance, MK looking behind him at the castle – it was now completely overtaken by ice that slowly spread over the rest of the mountain. “You couldn’t have foreseen this.” He explained, MK looking back at him quizzically. “Something new has set Lady Bone Demon off. It will slow back down soon, but it won’t stop. Though, her power is still escapable for now.”

“Wait, you – you only got ME away?!” MK protested, officially becoming angry now. “What about –“

“Your friends are fine.” The man stated, stopping MK.  “I saw them leaving the castle, they’re looking for you.” He paused before nodding in though after a moment, taking his eyes off MK to adjust his right wrist guard. “It’ll be easier to explain things when you’re all together.” He said, more to himself than to MK.

MK, for his part, stared at the man…but now felt his sense of trepidation was slowly waning. Most new people he met these days tried to kill him – but this stranger really might have just saved his life back there. It suddenly seemed this whole drag-around and lecturing was his way of…helping.

“Who are you?” MK finally asked. 

The man’s gaze quickly darted back up to meet MK’s, who instinctively stiffened at the stony expression completed by the man’s glare. His eyes were intent and predatory as they studied the younger one, like those of a hawk. 

“Are you frightened?” He asked, with an interrogative edge. 

“W-What? No!” Came MK’s immediate defensive reply, but the man’s unchanging expression put a crack in that facade quickly. 

“….Okay, yes. Why?” MK asked, returning the man’s look with his own suspicious look.

“Because you should be.” The man replied, taking a step closer to the nonplussed MK – 

– Before the impact an unstoppable force meeting rock struck the ground between the two of them, winding MK and making him stagger backwards, while the man dug his feet into the ground and drew his guandao in a single, swift motion, facing two figures that MK quickly recognized.

“Wait, M-“ he started. 

“Get away from him!” Yelled the voice of Mei, her blade drawn and eyes glowing a ferocious electric green. Next to her, Monkey King raised himself up from the kneeling position he landed in, his teeth bared ferociously.

“I have had it with you, you shady, sixed-eared–“ Monkey King snarled – before actually registering the man in front of him, who had lowered his weapon upon seeing who the new arrivals were.

“…Random old guy?” The monkey finished, dropping his aggressive posture in bemusement.

Mei was less placated, still pointing her sword at the man, while MK heard the distant sound of the team’s van bursting through the trees, coming to a halt as Sandy, Pigsy, and Tang burst out hurriedly.

“MK! Are you alright?!” Pigsy shouted, him, Tang, and Sandy making their way over to him in concern and looking towards the one sided stand-off with Mei and this stranger in confusion. 

“You do have a bold heart, Young Mei. You should save that for when you really need it.” The man said towards the dragon girl, spinning his guandao once before positioning it upright next to him. Mei only bristled further in response. “How do you know my name?!” Mei growled, thrusting her blade forward, the end coming to life with that familiar green glow. 

“Mei, wait!” MK called out, and Mei did turn to him at that, if only in confusion. 

“MK, what’s going on here? And who the heck are you??” Pigsy questioned the man irately, directing everyone’s accusing gazes. The man surveyed each of their faces with, his stony expression unchanging – before landing on MK’s unsure expression. Surprisingly, his own softened by a degree. He shook his head, and raised up his hands.

“Look, it’s a long story, but to keep it short – I’m not good at this.” The man began, kneeling to place his guandao slowly on the ground, keeping his arms above his head as he stood back up, facing the group. “But I know what hunts you all. By coincidence, I have walked along the path that intends to put an end to what she is for a while now. And I didn’t know anyone else was, until now, so…” The man trailed off, glancing off and pressing his lips together, looking conflicted for a moment…before dropping his head with a sigh, stepping back, and giving the group a greeting bow.

“I am here to help you, MK. All of you.” He states, directly towards the core of the group. 

Everyone was silent, and a bit hesitant – before turning to MK to see his reaction.

“…Oh.” MK sounded numbly after a moment, before dropping his arms lazily as he arched a brow at the man. “Oh. Why didn’t you just start with that?” He asked. 

The man’s eyebrow twitched with an untold emotion, before he sighed, putting his fingers on the ridge of his nose. “Like I said, I’m not good at this.” He responded, murmuring something under his breath. MK thought he heard him say a name…Chang something. 

“Alright, gramps –” Monkey King suddenly spoke up, cutting through the moment. “Whatever it is you’re good at, you’re lucky I didn’t kill you just now." Everyone looked to see his suspicious expression directed at the old warrior, his bafflement set aside as he moved to be in front of MK. “So you know about Lady Bone Demon, and showed up just after her power appeared where it shouldn’t? Real convenient, that.” He challenged.

A silent stare down ensued, and MK looked over his master’s shoulder — honestly shocked to see how the man was indeed matching Monkey King’s golden glare, without even flinching. 

“Uh – okay, hold on now – “ And then another surprise appeared when Tang opted to step between the two, halting whatever friction was starting to build. He gave a still-glowering Monkey King a shaky smile before clearing his throat as he turned to the man. 

“I think what Monkey King means is, if you really do have more, uh…expertise when it comes to Lady Bone Demon, then we’d be glad to accept your help – but we’ve also been victims of her trickery. How…exactly are you planning to show us we can trust you?”

The clearing was silent in the pause that followed, everyone waiting with bated breath to see the Warrior’s potential reply. He, for his part, kept up that frown that MK was starting to think was just his natural expression, before lowering his eyes in thought. But before he could speak, any ensuing conversation was interrupted by a series of loud booms sounding in the air. Everyone turned to see the castle practically breaking in half, the ice splintering the supports and sending the lower half of the structure crashing down the mountain – a sight punctuated by icy spikes climbing up the nearby cliff, towards them. The group quickly began to step back.

“Uh, maybe we can save this for when we get out of here?” Mei suggested, and they all heard the van horn honking, turning to see Sandy had already gotten into the driver's seat.

“Hop on in, guys! You too, sir!” Sandy called out, and everyone began to follow suit – until MK had a thought, and turned to the man.

“Uh, quick question – you said something about spirits earlier…do you know how to, like, uh – I dunno, sense this stuff?” MK asked, pointing to the encroaching ice. “To sense anything all spooky and weird and Lady-Bone Demony after us?”

The man took a moment to think again, before letting out a resigned huff. “I’m not the expert at it — but I can do it well enough to get you all to safety.” He responded.

“But…there is?” MK questioned, catching the way he worded that. “An expert?”

Before the elder one could respond, the van horn honked again, more continuously.

“MK, come on! We gotta get the brick outta here!” Mei yelled from the open back door, and the two could both see the grass frosting over.

MK gave the man one fully purposeful look. “You promise to help us?” 

“I swear it.” the warrior responded, resolute.

“What is your name?”

“Zhuāng Jié, kid.” He stated, collecting his guandao from the ground.

“Do you like Monkey Cop movies?”

“I – what?” He looked perplexed.

“Good enough, lets go!” MK decided, running to the car with their new teammate behind him. “Pigsy, move! Mr. Zhuāng Jié here needs to sit in the front!”

“What?!?”

[kanawolf]

A Chance Meeting

It awoke with a rasp. Voice scratchy and raw, the hissing clicks that left it minorly echoed in the damp cavern. The tiny thing in front of it spoke softly, "You're all right. I'm your Ghost, and I raised you from the dead. It is your choice what you want to do now, though the current affairs are in turmoil."

The shell rotated, a soft hum sound emanating from it, and when they grabbed it out of the area, the tiny creature didn't seem even remotely bothered. "Do you remember your name?"

A hiss followed, before it hummed deeply. "Ir…that is all."

A wiggle in its hand, before it let go of the Ghost. "Who are you?"

"I don't have a name. Not yet anyway. You can name me if you'd like, and I could do the same for you if you feel you need a name right away. Or you can choose your own. Anything goes really."

Stroking the shell for a moment, it tilted its head in thought, "Vizuk, for you. Zalnuk for myself."

A hum echoed in the air. "Very well. Ir Zalnuk, we are on Luna, Earth's moon. The Witch Queen's throne world welcomes all Lucent Hive to it. Shall we go? Perhaps we will find others along the way. We should be quick and quiet about it though, until you get used to your newfound abilities."

Eyes skirted around the deep cavern it was in, flicking over the pile of bone and chitin in the corner, the more recent dead scattered around. Nodding in grave agreement, the wizard followed Vizuks' quiet directions.

Avoiding the Lightbearers was…tricky, yet not. They seemed to attack anything on sight, so it waited till a fight began and flew past during the chaos. A few bullets grazed it's chitin, tiny purple fragments falling off it from those seldom moments. With it's mind solely on finding a place in the throne world, it almost passed by the massive lucent knight that stood stock still with a smaller lucent acolyte near it.

The hand that gripped it's arm and pulled it back behind a rock was electrocuted partially before it calmed at the sight.

The knight, considering the electrically currents that split open part of their armor, simply held a finger to their mouth. "No harm to you meant."

"You are? Why stop me?"

"I am Ul-Sharox. The little one is Vio'lleks." If the acolyte took issue with the description used, they showed no sign of it, golden eyes fixed firmly on the landing area where Guardians seemed to fall regularly. "I am from the throne world of Savathun. I came to find others. Would you join us as we leave?"

Hovering silently for a moment, it nodded. "Yes. Though I will not blindly pledge myself to her."

The lack of concern nor intense feelings in relation to that statement left Zalnuk feeling…relieved, perhaps. Though it was disgruntled upon being pulled into a strange ship, it quickly focused itself into a mediation, vaguely aware that Vio'lleks was silently watching it in the process.

It could feel the light spread throughout their bones. Arc and Void flickering in a dance that circled its head. Barely cracking one eye open, it watched the way Vio'lleks watched the Arc jumping between it's fingers, beforing mirroring the action themself.

Putting aside the strange feeling that wormed through it's chest, it found it's voice. "You have a Ghost as well, yes? Mine is Vizuk? Yours are?"

Startled slightly, Vio'lleks fidgeted for a moment before their Ghost appeared beside them. A grin warped the shape of their mouth in an odd yet pleasantly manner, "Sigix. Though Sharox called it Frog. I don't know why."

"No, I called you frog." The towering knight joined them in the hold with the air of a tired warden. At the tilt of Vio's head, they elaborated. "I did so because you are like a frog."

"What's a frog?"

"How so?"

The questions asked simultaneously made the knight chuckle briefly. "A frog is a creature in the throne world. And you are like a frog because you are…jumpy. Like them."

The expression that took Vio's face was hard to decipher for Zalnuk, which fascinated it as a result.

The two were odd, but it liked them so far. Perhaps it would even like to stay with them, should they all be able to work together. And without blind loyalty to anyone, especially without all of them agreeing to such a thing.

[eorzeashan]

Okay, the agonies of deciding to play the uno reverse card in dms or ask, but I feel like it's only right lest the game continues with tag yelling akdnfladsfnl (I want to frame them on my wall and cherish them 5ever) So, at the risk of repeating tags, sliding an Uno reverse card across the table. Eight's thoughts on Tyr. Hit me. xD

Asdghjkl Ok whew. Man. Let's just say I did the old parent stereotype of folding my hands behind my back and staring into the distance in contemplation over this one and now I popped an ibuprofen just to answer it the universe conspires against me-

Where to even start. Let's begin with his whole deal with Cipher Nine in the first place, which is only part of the identity of Tyr, though one can hardly be divorced from the other, yet where does Nine end and Tyr begin? Are you a number like me, or are you more?

Eight has spent his entire career living parallel to Nine. In his own mind, he's already made a relationship of his own with that character, the one he can only watch the deeds of from afar and see how their actions affect all those he cares about and his home of Intelligence in an undeniable ripple effect. He very much lived in his shadow, but not in a negative way- it was like they were mere feet away from each other in the same place, in the same time, yet they never crossed during their tenure as Ciphers. So there he was, across the pond. He saw it all as the "reserve" Cipher of the bunch, in the aftermath of the Watchers scrambling around or Intelligence going on lockdown and in the heavy slump of Keeper/Minister's shoulders. Eight was never allowed to meet the other Ciphers as he was assigned to "clean up" the missions that went awry as a last resort, so if he did, chances were that he only existed next to them for the briefest of times and it was an extraction mission that had them unconscious from being captured or something that left them too busy to talk. A bit like a Death's Angel that swoops in only when an agent has no way out. That kept most of them away from him, his presence a reminder of a traumatic moment or agonizing failure.

Yet as agents who are trained in all the skills that make them impossible to exist in society, it makes them inevitably drawn to one another no matter how many lines divide them in the same way both Tyr and Eight try to form a relationship with Shara.

Eight sees Cipher Nine. He was there. Nine was the star of their division, the hero of it--even reluctantly, and how could he not feel close to the one Cipher who isn't nonexistent in his own space, almost close enough to touch? You can't really know someone by their deeds alone, but he felt as if he did because Nine had such an impact on Intelligence and everyone he knew that it was like he was right there next to him. Something something the objects in the mirror may be closer than they appear.

And he admired him. It's that wandering thought when they briefly loosened his leash for him to go out in the field where he considered what made Nine so special to all of them to affect them so profoundly, while he'd be in a room littered with bodies and the dirtiest of work up to his knees in muck. Nine, do you use violence as a tool? Would you ever come down here with me? Or are we as far apart as the lines they draw between us? He thought things like that everyday. He'd come into Intelligence with the routine and see what new shakeups Nine had brought in their wake, prod Keeper about his latest stressor, or Watcher 2 (not likely, she shoos him off half the time. He sees the way her eyes look a little wet).

Sometimes he wondered if he'd ever have to be the one to pull Nine out, but Nine was so brilliant that it never happened. It was a heavy burden in the end even with his success, and I think that's a huge point they both understand; to always carry the fate of your world on your back in do or die scenarios. Eight's side of espionage was just a more miserable one that few came back from, and I think the entire reputation and concept surrounding Nine made him feel a little better knowing someone out there just like him was fighting for everything they believed in. The heroic stories Keeper would come back with were remarkable. It put a bandaid on Eight knowing he was very much doing not...that.

Then Nine's tenure got impossibly dirty and Intelligence was mired in some complicated stuff that resulted in its imminent dissolution.

Eight has always on some level, looked out for his fellow Intelligence workers. It was his duty and form of curiosity because he lived in Intelligence much more than any of his other Cipher counterparts, with being stuck at home base and unwitting witness to it all. He stuck his interventions in where he could to preserve their sense of selves as the one who'd already thrown his away, so it meant he could bear what they couldn't. Stars knew that being in this business for too long took chunks out of you if you had too much heart, but having too little resulted in... well, him.

Nine seemed to hit that perfect balance between operative and person, but that made them such a prime target for a whole world of misery that Keeper's protectiveness became Eight's own out of a desire to ease his burdens as well. And THAT sums up just about what Eight feels about Nine.... just one face of Tyr.

Tyr himself, behind the mask when they're both alone and Intelligence is gone.... is not someone Eight knows. Yet. He wants to. He has no reason not to. This person is the one Keeper gave everything to protect as did countless others, and in essence, is Intelligence's last legacy. So this is home. His life is already his before he even meets his eyes. He also... thinks Tyr must be what Keeper wanted him to be. Which raises a lot of questions in his mind, but all he knows is that he will follow him to the end of the galaxy. He needs to know if he's the answer he's been searching for.

Tyr doesn't even quite know for himself what that means, but Eight, as always, has the patience of the stars to help him find it together. The fact that Tyr tugs on that little thread that ties them together through their shared history is incredible to him, when he's spent his life being everyone's shadow and part of what most would leave behind in a heartbeat- both a sordid past in Intelligence and Jadus. Why? is the question that colors both their minds, and it's okay if the answers aren't there immediately...because they came in the form of someone else. All they have to do from here is decide what two Ciphers are going to do next in this big, empty universe without the people who'd ordinarily tell them to.

I think Eight would be amused by how Tyr admires his conviction, which he downplays as just his resilience and training. Tyr himself is fascinating to him. Incredibly new and different from just the uniform that existed in only Intelligence, and with a lot more experiences under his belt Eight wasn't privy to. He's full of contradictions. He has a protectiveness that feels like Keeper's but far more bold and outgoing than the old man's mitigations. His hands are very warm, too. It's like watching ideals and pragmatism constantly at war with one another in one man. Eight's instantly attracted to it like a moth to flame. He's never quite met anyone who cares so deeply on a personal level for no-names either, and it's nothing like his own oath of loyalty to Keeper's flock.

I suppose that's called being seen, because he's out of masks to present when there's no need for any around Tyr. It's starting from scratch with each other and between agents, that's not a basis you can have so easily in this galaxy. I think they'd be just fine getting into trouble together, learning what the hell life is when you're not just a number and how fucking scary it is to finally ease yourself out from that. But you're not alone. You're not alone.

This is getting long but I still haven't encapsulated how confronting Jadus might go. Eight loves him. He does. Yet he's very aware of the position this leaves them in, and he has to choose. Every mission comes to a conclusion, and Tyr is about once-in-a-lifetime as it gets; I think he battled the entire time he was with Jadus in seclusion over where his loyalties would lie and the potential end it presents. Jadus gave him the world, and he in turn did the same for the one Lord he'd ever swear to. So he doesn't see it as betrayal when he leads Tyr to finish to what he started, if Jadus isn't quite willing to let sleeping dogs lie either. But it is the turning of a new page where whatever happens in the dark of that cave is where his life goes next.

Jadus might even be testing if Nine-- Tyr is strong enough to take Eight away from all this. Only the worthy. And in turn, Eight can only fight for ideals that cannot break under the hammer of the world. But he believes in him. He knows Nine's strength, and if Tyr the person has conviction just as iron, he'll go with him anywhere. Jadus has to acknowledge that, and Eight, ever-changing, would give up his home in the Dark Side if Tyr's character is true and he wished it. That's the extent of his promise. The best result would be to not break off his connection to Jadus and still find newfound freedom with Tyr, but that is how far he is willing to go, personal heartbreak included. And what a conversation that would be, about how fear when you've lived in it your whole life-- the fear of being caught as a spy is a fear of a fate worse than death, the fear of losing loved ones, the fear of failing but in turn realizing what it is you must value most-- becomes a beloved friend.

[thelostfractal]

Paradox

This morning I woke up at five o'clock and wondered if I should get up. Before (what does that even mean, before?), I used to wake up at five o'clock every day. And I loved it ! Because I did it to write. The blue silence of dawn, the mystery between night and day, it's magical, damn it! I'm really nostalgic for those moments, now that I usually get up around nine o'clock. So, I seriously wondered what I should do, because lately (the after before), I haven't been writing anymore. It's been months, maybe a year, and if we thought about it properly (but do we really want to?), and didn't count the last gasps, maybe even two years. Whereas Before...

Argh!! It would be difficult to convey the joy, no, the ecstasy that used to fill me during those moments of pure creation, those flights outside of the world, that floating in the eternal, outside of time... So, is that all over now?

How can it be over? I asked myself. In my bed, eyes wide open to make sure I didn't fall back to sleep foolishly, I analyzed the situation. How did I start being unable to write at all? First, I finished college. A return to studying psychology, if you want to know. Go ahead, make fun, the nutjob studied psychology. Yeah well, if you knew who hangs around in those classes... Anyway. It took me a year to recover from those four years of studying, ‘cause it was so intense in terms of learning and rich in emotions. I'll detail it some other time if you want to talk about Freud. So, depression.

The seeds had been there for a while, they had probably always been there, but they got a huge dose of fertilizer to the face. Crying every night was still manageable, I was already familiar with it. Cutting myself, I did it briefly in high school, not as deep though. But the psychiatric clinic, I wasn't familiar with that. Boom! Meds, and I found myself on a month and a half vacation, far from everything, with my boyfriend. Everything was fine, you know. No brain, no thoughts, no creativity, and most importantly: no guilt for not having them anymore! Bliss!

And here we are: I wake up at five, wondering if I should get up to write and enjoy my life. The thing is, there should be a good reason to do it. To be sure. Oh, I forgot to tell you: I stopped taking the medication. So I had this argument with myself: if you get up, you'll find your reason! Inspiration doesn't just come on its own, you have to go after it, blah blah... and the other part retorted: if that reason existed, we wouldn't be having this debate, and I would already be in front of my computer! Because the rest of the analysis confirms it: I have nothing to write.

Abandoned projects, these past few years, are like an invasive species. The fantasy trilogy started in 2016? One and a half books done. The fiction started in 2020? Missing the ending. The pixel art video game started during college? Guess. The tabletop RPG based on the same universe? Special case: everything is there, or almost, except the players. Coding? Oh yes, I started learning how to code too. I wanted to create a character creation website for my RPG. Abandoned too, of course. The science fiction story outlined this year? Not even started. I'm starting to lose faith, you see. And what happened during the vacation? An urge to create a webtoon, believe it or not. So, and you'll probably understand, I don't have an ounce of ambition for this project. And even though I started a panel or two, just to test… I'm not going to give you an exhaustive list, you get the idea. I discovered a new feeling: the desire to stop something that hasn't even begun to avoid being disappointed by seeing it unfinished.

So, I was submerged by this ambiguous feeling this morning at five-thirty, eyes stinging with doubt. In conclusion, I could get up, continue a project or start a new one, force myself if necessary, and abandon it in three days. So what's the point? Eventually, I told myself that at least before, I had enthusiasm. And I can't remember which guru from my Spiritual Quest said that we should always, oh grand Always, follow our enthusiasm. It's a good way not to panic, and the general idea is that it leads us towards the things we're supposed to go to. So, I closed my eyes until eight o'clock.

[moonrisecalamityretreat]

won't you push me for the last time? || futaba || trial 3.4 || re: monkaS

Futaba didn’t remember her time at Hope’s Peak at all. There was a time, briefly after she regained consciousness, where she tried - genuinely - to recall what she could. But her efforts were fruitless, any questions asked were dodged expertly, and after some time she got too scared to confront any answers that could have been. For almost a decade, she’d thought she was content with not knowing. She’d thought she’d accepted that she would simply be missing a portion of her life forever. She’d thought she was fine with that.

And then Hisakata Imai and Hanji Ruzaki appeared again.

"My name is Hisakata Imai and I was a reserve course student at HPA. My twin brother Kuragari was SHSL Nature Survivalist. You were a bit of a troublemaker at school but so was I so we meshed well. We'd hang out and pull pranks and have fun." 

She had no recollection of befriending either in the brief time they’d spent together during high school. No matter how hard she tried to dig up memories, she just… couldn’t. It was like they were never there in the first place, and the persistent feeling of inexplicable guilt she’d been fighting off for years became almost overwhelming. She’d worked through it at least a little now - the guilt part, that is - but she couldn't help but feel saddened by what she was so obviously missing.

Despite Futaba’s personal struggles regarding her memory loss, she’d found some sort of comfort in having Hisa around. Knowing there were people that could actually confirm her existence in the time she’d lost, even if she was unfamiliar with them, felt… oddly reassuring, perhaps even more so now with what new information she’s gathered.

"Ugh! C'mooooooooooooooooooooooooon! We used to be like besties in school and now you won't give me this?"

She couldn’t recognize the feeling earlier, but she knows now that she’d wanted so badly to have some semblance of whatever friendship they’d once had back. Even if she didn’t know what that would entail, she wanted to come to care for him the same way again. She wanted to support him and get along with him and like him like she once had. She tried so hard to like him. And despite her efforts…

"... I don't think I hate you. I just don't like you. I believe those are different."

She’d said as much to him directly. Things didn’t turn out how she’d hoped at all. Once again, the consequences of understanding her feelings come back to bite her. He’d crossed one too many lines, and she’d gotten too bold in her choice of words, and now it’s too late to try and make any real amends for anything, because Hisa is about to die.

Offering comfort is far from her strong suit - she has enough difficulty navigating her own feelings, let alone others’. Any solace she could provide was unlikely to be much help. Even so… 

Silently, Futaba makes her way over to Hisakata and unclasps the kingfish hairpin from the strap of her overalls. Though she finds it a bit difficult to do so - she’s said some rather cold things to him in the few moments of anger she’s experienced - she meets his gaze as she hands it off to him.

“I’m sorry things didn’t go well between us. ... I really did want to be friends with you again, Imai-san.”

[qverdia]

abilene saw sandy curls from the corner of her eye , but before she could turn she was ushered towards the remake center . whenever abilene saw alex , she recalled briefly that first interaction . she hadn't known his story at the time - it wasn't often something a new victor was terribly open about - but she could see how he had tried for his kids . she saw the desperation in his eyes and . . . well , she didn't need a reason to be kind , did she ?

she had approached a man who often sponsored the tributes ( perhaps his name was claudius ? or some other bizzare name that clunked rather than rolled off of her tongue ) and arranged for him to sponsor the kids from twelve . she had giggled and flirted , blushed when he complimented her or his touch lingered on her arm, and later that night he had approached alex to send something to those knock-kneed little kids . she remembered those blue eyes looking over at her , filled with a spark even if just for a moment .

she couldn't even recall if they had spoken that night or not , but she did remember that the next day he sat beside her and they split a blackberry flavored tart between them . she had fallen beside him after that , never too far away from each other in the capitol . abilene found peace with him . somehow , without either of them knowing it seemed , their friendship had blossomed into something more , something deeper .

after losing her family , alex was one of the few she trusted wholly - and he was the one person she trusted more than anyone else . that was why he had to win , she told herself . he had a life to return to , a family to return to . all she had was an empty home and a stray cat .

her stylist team , octavia and zelenus , had led the way down a long hallway , chattering to themselves about all of the work that needed to be done . her hands were bandaged , face splotchy , hair messy , and she still had the dust of ten on her clothes . they clearly had their work cut out for them , or so they said . abilene just hoped that they would not pierce her nose like they had during her first tribute parade .

she turned her head slightly , a moment before the sound of footsteps down the hall reached her stylists and they turned their heads as well . she saw his curls first and a wave of relief washed over her for the briefest of seconds , before it was replaced with that hollow feeling of dread . her eyes stung , and a lump built in her throat . she wanted to return to that first night he had held her , when she fell asleep to the sound of his heartbeat and had slept so peacefully she almost lost the entire next day to rest . . . but that wasn't an option anymore .

❛ can i have just a few minutes , octavia ? ❜ abilene spoke quietly to her stylist . octavia pursed her lips and looked towards zelenus . ❛ just give me a few minutes and i'll sit still as stone , i promise . ❜ she whispered . ❛ please ? ❜

❛ we have to get the room set up anyways , ❜ octavia huffed . ❛ but we only have a few minutes to spare - there's hardly enough time as is ! ❜ abilene smiled her first true smile since the announcement of the quarter quell , and the barest hint of a smile turned at the corner of octavia's lip before she ushed zelenus into the remake room .

abilene didn't have far to go before she reached alex , but she sprinted the short distance anyways . she collided with him a bit harder than she intended , but her arms wrapped tightly around his waist and her face buried into his chest . he always smelled like pine , and her breath began to shudder as she breathed in that smell . her fists balled up in his shirt and her eyes stung with tears .

❛ w-why'd you go and do that ? ❜ she whispered .

from the moment they get on the train up until it arrives at the capitol,  alex operates as if on autopilot,  completely disconnected from the morbid reality.   he’s cool albeit cordial,  engaging in conversations with his old mentor and even sharing a few drinks with him,  wanting those closest to him to remember him as a good guy,  even if his thoughts keep drifting to abilene and what exactly being reaped for the third quarter quell means for them.   it means they’ll never go on a real date or get married or live together,  and that’s the part that almost makes him tear up —   the future that was first promised to them is being taken away just as quickly and unexpectedly.   she deserves so much better.   she deserves the world.   he still remembers the moment when their eyes first met as if it were yesterday…   

it was his first year as a mentor and he was so completely lost,  grief-stricken,  still mourning sarah while trying to make sense of the cruel machinery that he was suddenly part of.   he didn’t have many connections in the capitol at the time and winning over sponsors,  when his tributes were malnourished,  terrified twelve and fourteen year old children from the seam,  proved to be quite the challenge.   she helped him then,  and even if his kids didn’t survive past day four,  at least they didn’t die in a gruesome way.   at least for a brief moment,  someone else cared about them,  too.   she’s been his ray of sunshine ever since.   the only person who makes these annual trips to the capitol bearable.   

how could he send her into the arena all on her own?   he’s promised to keep her safe and will keep his word.   no matter at what cost.

upon arrival at the capitol,  there’s only one thing on his mind —   finding abilene before the chariot parade.   there’s so much that he wants to tell her,  but above all he just wants to wrap his arms around her and hug and kiss her and remind her that they’re in this together.   she’ll never be alone again.   he needs to comfort her,  see how she’s doing,  but fails to locate her at the train station,  which might be a small blessing on its own.   after all,  he doesn’t really want people from the capitol to know that he’s got feelings for abilene as it could go both ways,  either work in their favor or against them and he doesn’t want to risk it.  the capitol attendants are firmly directing him and his fellow tribute from #12 toward the remake center.

alex hasn’t shed a single tear since the reaping,  but the second he catches a glimpse of what he assumes must be abilene’s yellow dress,  his eyes begin to sting uncomfortably.   “five minutes,  all i need is five minutes,”   he pleads softly,  using what little boyish charm he’s got left on his prep team.   he knows the drill by now —   each tribute gets assigned their own private room,  cold white walls and floors and that strange-looking hospital bed,  where they have to sit through several hours of beautifying treatments.   he figures this year won’t be much different and slips out of the room before anyone can protest.   it feels illegal,  but what can they do to a man who’s already signed his own death warrant?   

[alaynes-writings]

Photographs

Summary: When you look through some old and new photographs with your fiancée Paul he admits that he has been carrying around his favourite one with him for a while without showing you.

Pairing: Paul Atreides x reader

Prompt: “This is my favorite picture of us.”

A/N: Alright, first request done. Again, I am sorry it took a bit longer, but I hope y’all like it. The next request will be uploaded tomorrow. Enjoy!

                                                         ---

“Look what I have here!”

Excitedly you sank down on the bed next to Paul, putting the box in your hand between the two of you. Paul closed the book he had been reading and eyed the box curiously.

“What’s in there?”

“My mother sent me the copies of our engagement photographs along with some other old pictures she thought I’d like. And I think your mother also put a few in there.”

When you lifted the lid the first thing you saw was the stack of your engagement photos on the top. You had seen them before briefly, but now that you had the chance to really look a t them you had to admit that they were beautiful. It was your mother who had insisted on doing such a shoot and it had taken almost a whole day, both you and Paul just glad when it had been over.

“You look stunning.”

Paul took the first picture of the stack, also seeing them for the first time, a tender smile spreading across his face.

“You look quite handsome yourself.”

“Your mother was right. I’m glad we took those. When I saw you that day in the colors of house Atreides, I think I forgot how to breathe for a second.”

You chuckled at that, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“If you like me that much in those colors I can wear them more often.” you teased and Paul blushed.

The next stack of photographs was from your mother and you reached for the first picture.

It had been taken on your first day at Caladan, just after you and your family had arrived and your mother had put you in an awful red fur-coat with a black hat and thick white boots because she was scared you would catch a cold in the rainy weather. A horrible combination that had made you so uncomfortable that one of your maids got rid of it as soon as she could.

“God I look so awful.” you laughed, half embarrassed, half amused.

Paul tried to conceal his laughter, but he couldn’t hide the grin on his face.

“I have to admit, your mother really outdid herself with that. But I didn’t think it was that awful back then.”

You huffed, pushing his shoulder playfully.

“Yeah because we were eight and neither of us had developed any fashion sense.”

“No, I mean it. I remember thinking you looked like a little fox.”

You snorted at his attempt to make you feel better about your terrible outfit.

“Oh great, so I was the weird fox girl, how relieving to know.”

“No, you were the cute fox girl.” he corrected and you giggled, putting the photo away. You went through a few more pictures of your family, your old home and your first weeks on Caladan.

Next up there was a whole stack of Atreides family photos, also taken during that time.

“Oh look at you, you were so cute!” you exclaimed holding up a picture of him and Duncan together. Paul must have been six or seven years old, standing next to Duncan in his pilot uniform. He looked so small next to the swordmaster, with wide green eyes and messy curls.

Paul rolled his eyes playfully at your excitement, his lips twitching into a grin.

“Don’t worry you still are.” you teased, kissing his cheek again.

Soon his whole bed was covered in photographs, different versions of you and Paul through the years staring up at you. When you were younger you had hated that your mother always insisted on taking pictures, but now you were grateful for it. You were grateful for the memories that were kept in those pictures, little moments saved for you to look at whenever you wanted. You had known Paul for most of your life and those photographs had captured your relationship over the years, showing you how far you had come.

“I’m so glad we have that many pictures of us. I can’t even decide on a favorite.” you said.

He smiled fondly, letting his gaze wander over the photographs spread around him.

“I already have a favorite.”

That made you look up at him, curious now.

“Really? Which one?”

“None of those.”

Your eyes widened in surprise.

“Wait, if it’s not one of those, then which one is it? Have I seen it?”

He shook his head, a faint blush spreading on his cheeks.

“I haven’t showed it to anyone. Do you want to see it?”

“Of course.”

He reached forward, into the pocket of his jacket that was hanging over the edge of the bed, handing you an unfamiliar photograph.

“This is my favorite picture of us.”

It was a bit wrinkled and you wondered if he kept it in his pocket, if he carried it around with him. It was a picture of you and Paul at the beach, taken on a sunny day a few months ago. You were both wet, your clothes drenched, hair sticking to your face because you had pushed Paul into the water, unable to resist your childish urge to mess with him a little. It had lead to a playful fight in which none of you stayed dry. You were both still standing knee-deep in the water, Paul had his arm around your waist, holding you close.

You were smiling at him, the kind of smile that was reserved for him and only him. But what really caught your attention was the way he was looking at you. You couldn‘t describe it as anything else than pure adoration. Whoever had taken the picture had captured the perfect moment, your feelings for each other perfectly visible.

“I look like a mess.” you blurted out, unable to put your real feelings into words.

Paul laughed, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“You look beautiful.” he murmured. “You always do.”

You couldn’t keep your eyes off the photograph, slowly realizing why it was Paul’s favorite. It wasn’t staged like your engagement photos or the other ones where your mother had insisted on taking pictures, commanding you all to smile. This was a real moment captured on film, a visual manifestation of your feelings for each other.

“Duncan took the picture.” he answered your unspoken question. “He gave it to me a few days later because he thought I would want it. I have been carrying it with me since that day.”

Your heart melted at his words. You couldn’t believe that he had actually kept that picture in his pocket. It reminded you of your grandfather, who had always carried around a picture of your grandmother in a locket. As a child you had always wondered if you would ever find someone who would love you that much, who would carry a picture of you with them. And now there was Paul, your Paul, who did exactly that. Every time you thought you couldn’t be happier with him, he always did something to prove you wrong.

“Why this one?” you asked. “I look horrible in it. And we have all of those.” You gestured to your engagement photos.

Paul smiled, noticing how much this actually meant to you and he reached out, wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you to him. He nuzzled his cheek against yours, his curls tickling your skin.

“We do have all of those very pretty engagement photos, yes. But this-” he tapped on the photograph, “-this smile on your face here… this is the one I want to see every day. The one I want to earn every day. And maybe that’s selfish, but I want to carry that around with me, wherever I go so I can look at it whenever I want. I always want to see you this happy.”

A wonderful warm feeling spread through your body at his words and you wondered how he was always able to make you love him even more than you did before.

“I want you to always look at me like that.” he whispered, kissing your cheek.

“I will.” you responded. “I also want you to always look at me like you do here.”

You felt him smile against your skin, his arms wrapping a little tighter around you.

“I will.”

Your gaze was still locked on the photograph and you just felt infinitely happy. Happy that you had Paul by your side, that you would get to marry him, that you would get to spend your whole life with him. Paul noticed that you were still staring at the picture and chuckled softly.

“You want a copy of that?” he teased and you laughed.

“Actually yes, I do.”

[waitimcomingtoo]

Swedish Fish

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Synopsis: at an awards show where you and Tom are nominated for a lot of awards together, you poke fun at the rumors about your relationship

Masterlist

“Hello!” A journalist greeted you and Tom as you approached her on the red carpet of a low stakes award show. “You two are looking amazing.”

“Thank you.” You beamed, feeling the excitement of the night settle in with your first interview.

“Thanks so much.” Tom nodded in appreciation as he rested his hand on your back.

“So you two are nominated for quite a few awards tonight. How are you feeling? Nervous? Excited?” The journalist asked before holding her microphone out to the two of you.

“I’m really excited to be here. I’m more excited to be Y/n’s date, though. Look at her in this dress.” Tom stepped back so the camera could get a better look at your long red dress. “She’s better than any award.”

“Stop it. I don’t want to be flushed in the interviews.” You leaned against him as you briefly buried your face in his neck to hide your blush.

“Aw.” The journalist pouted at the camera. “So you two came here together?”

“We did. Almost all our nominations are together so it seemed like the right thing to do.” You explained as you kept one hand resting on Tom’s shoulder.

“That was my excuse for why I asked her.” Tom joked. “I really did it because I wanted to make everyone jealous that I had the prettiest date.”

“Oh, please.” You rolled your eyes. “He just wanted me as his date because he knows I bring snacks.”

“You brought snacks?” The journalist laughed into the microphone.

“I did.” You nodded excitedly. “I have like 6 types of candy in my bra. I have cookies and chocolate in my purse. You don’t even want to know where I’m hiding a granola bar.”

“I really want to know now.” The journalist raised her eyebrows at you.

“I’ll find out later and let you know.” Tom winked and you smacked him playfully.

“It’s the Nature Valley kind though so I’m scared to eat it.” You laughed. “They’re so crumbly.”

“Maybe you can step outside and eat it. Like a little snack break.” The journalist suggested.

“I could. I’ll do it during one of the boring speeches.” You joked.

“Who’s speech would you leave during?” The journalist asked you.

“Probably Tom’s.” You stated and he nodded along it humor you.

“Yeah. I tend to ramble.” He shrugged, making you laugh.

“Alright well I’ll let you guys get to the rest of the carpet.” The journalist said. “Thank you for chatting.”

“Thank you! Enjoy the night.” You waved goodbye to her as Tom picked up the train of your dress to make walking easier.

“She didn’t ask if we were a couple.” He whispered in your ear as you posed in front of the photographers.

“Are you upset that she didn’t?” You laughed as you looked at him.

“Frankly, I’m a little offended.” He said through a smile while keeping his eyes straight ahead.

“Don’t be. I’m sure we’ll get asked soon enough.” You told him. As far as the public was concerned, you and Tom were just friends. After being nominated for multiples joint awards for your performance as a couple in Far From Home, you had made a plan to tease the media if you won in an attempt to get them to stop asking if you were together.

“They better.” He grumbled in your ear before the both of you laughed.

He kept his hand on your back as you walked to the next journalist, the train of your dress in his other hand.

“Hi!” The journalist smiled happily at you as you stopped in front of him.

“Hello!” You matched his energy with a bright smile.

“Hey. How are you?” Tom asked politely.

“I’m doing well, thank you.” He nodded. “You two have quite a buzz around you tonight. Apparently you’re the couple to watch.”

“Any couple that’s half Tom Holland is a couple to watch. Haven’t you heard of Gyllenholland?” You raised an eyebrow and laughed.

“But that’s a bromance.” The journalist protested. “This seems more like a romance, if I’m not mistaken.”

“Unfortunately, we’re not together. There’s just something about me that he doesn’t like.” You sighed dramatically and looked away, making Tom and the journalist laugh.

“It’s the face. I can’t get past it.” Tom played along as he squished your cheeks between his fingers.

“So you’re really not a couple?” He asked as if he didn’t believe you. “I find that hard to believe.”

“Nope. Just friends.” You shook your head.

“Best friends.” Tom grinned at you before pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“You two are adorable.” The journalist commented. “And you’re nominated for a lot of awards together tonight, aren’t you?”

“We are. And that’s the way it should be. I think people enjoyed our movie as much as they did because of what we created together. It was a two person job and I’m glad it’s being acknowledged as such.” You answered honestly, making Tom’s heart soar.

“Not all of the nominations are for the both of us, though.” Tom brought up. “Y/n is nominated for best actress. And guess who’s presenting that award?” He smiled proudly.

“That’s right! Congratulations.” The journalist praised you.

“Thank you. I’m really grateful for all the nominations.”

“I’m so proud of her. I can’t wait to give you that award later.” Tom looked at you fondly.

“If I win.” You reminded him.

“Of course you’ll win.” He scoffed. “I voted for you everyday.”

“Thank you.” You rested your head on his shoulder momentarily to thank him for his support.

“So if you do win one of the joint awards, who gets to take it home?” The journalist asked you.

“We’ll just have to win them both I guess.” Tom shrugged playfully.

“I hope you do.” The journalist smiled. “I’ll see you guys out there. Good luck.”

“Thank you.” Tom shook his hand before leading you towards the entrance of the building.

“Should we find our seats?” You asked him as you checked your lipstick in a compact mirror.

“Yeah. Let’s go.” He nodded before taking your hand and walking with you inside.

~

An hour later after a few performances and wards had been given out, it was time for you and Tom to present an award. You nervously chewed your bottom lip as you waited for your cue, going over your prepared speech in your head.

“You ready?” You whispered to Tom, sensing he was as nervous as you were.

“I’m never ready to read, especially not in front of thousands of people on live television.” He laughed nervously. You gave him an assuring smile as rubbed his back to calm him down.

“Hey, if you can’t make out a word, just squeeze my hand. I’ll help you out.” You told him. Tom smiled back and slipped his hand into yours, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“We haven’t started yet.” You laughed at his action.

“I know.” He shrugged. “I just wanted to hold your hand.”

Before you could respond, a man with a headset came up to you and gave you a thumbs up.

“You’re on in three, two…”

“Hello everyone. We are here to present the nominees for best actor in a horror film.” Tom announced into his microphone. “Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to see any of these films because the ticket guy always thought I was a child.” He feigned a sad face, making the audience laugh. Their positive response calmed your nerves as you held your own microphone up.

“But don’t worry. I made sure I explained the plot to him once I got home.” You added.

“Only two of them made me wet the bed.” Tom read off the prompter, one of the lines he and you hadn’t written yourself. He made a face that you couldn’t help but laugh at, calming you even further.

“I can’t believe you read that line.” You laughed into your mic.

“I know. Who wrote that?” He wondered and the audience laughed along.

“Tonight, Tom and I are nominated for Best Onscreen Couple.” You continued. “Our chemistry on screen has left a lot of people wondering if we’re a dating in real life. We’re not, by the way.”

Tom was quiet for a moment as he blinked in confusion, hesitantly raising his microphone to his lips.

“We’re not?” He asked you as if this was the first he was hearing of it. It wasn’t, of course, as you had rehearsed this many times. Your face fell just like your practiced as the crowd laughed.

“No, we’re not.” You answered him flatly.

“I just - I thought we were.” His eyes darted around as he played dumb.

“Tom. We talked about this.” You said out of the corner of your mouth.

“But…but we make out all the time.” He said and the audience erupted with laughter. “Like what about that time in your trailer?”

“That was strictly platonic.” You shrugged.

“And in the elevator?” He asked.

“You had something stuck in your teeth. I was just being a good friend and getting it out.” You smiled smugly as you looked out at the crowd.

“All those times in my car?” He emphasized, making even you laugh.

“I was method acting.” You said simply.

“But - but it was months after production wrapped.” He reminded you, earning some applause as the audience caught on to what you were doing.

“I like to get really deep.” You insisted.

“Oh.” Tom looked at the floor for a moment before snapping into a smile. “And here are tonight’s nominees.”

You paused and let the audience laugh at your bit before reading the nominees off the prompter. Tom put his hand on your back, making you look at him. You smiled widely at your successful joke and he smiled back before taking your hand and giving it a squeeze.

~

You were sitting in your seats once again, impatiently waiting for the first category you were nominated for to be announced.

“I’m kinda nervous.” Tom leaned over to whisper in your ear among the buzz of the crowd.

“Would bra candy make it better?” You chuckled as you pulled a small Swedish Fish out of your décolletage.

“Has this been on your bare body?” He laughed in disbelief as he took the candy.

“Maybe?” You said sheepishly, looking around for anyone who might overhear.

“I can’t stand you.” His whole body shook with laughter as he popped it in his mouth. “It tastes like how your perfume smells.”

“Really?” You grimaced. “I don’t know how I feel about it.”

“Me either.” He sucked it out of his teeth. “Can I have another piece?”

You shoved his playfully for the bad joke before fishing another out for him.

“Here.” You placed it in the palm of his hands. “Wait, shhh! They’re announcing the winners.”

“This is really chewy.” Tom commented ad he struggled the swallow the candy. You ignored his problem as you excitedly gripped his arm. He continued chewing but managed to slip his hand into yours and clutch it anxiously as the nominees were read.

“And the winners for best onscreen kiss are…Tom Holland and Y/n L/n in Spiderman: Far From Home.”

The audience erupted into applause for the two of you, but all you could hear was Toms incessant chewing.

“Stop chewing. We gotta go.” You giggled as you pulled him out of his seat.

“Mhhhfh hmhph.” He said through a mouthful as he pulled you into a celebratory hug. You held hands on the way up to the podium as the infamous kiss played on the enormous screen. You hugged the presenter before standing in front of the microphone and beaming at the crowd.

“Hi! Thank you so you much for this award. Its always such a huge - - woah.” You trailed off and looked at Tom up and down, gulping loudly into the microphone.

“What’s wrong?” He asked you.

“There’s a lot of sexual tension up here.” You blew out a breath and fanned yourself. “Whew.”

The audience laughed at your bit but you were determined not to break.

“I was about to say.” Tom tweaked his head and rubbed the back of his neck, looking anywhere but at you. You both fidgeting with your clothing in an attempt to look busy as you avoiding eye contact.

“Um.” You laughed awkwardly into the microphone and gripped the podium. “What was I talking about?”

“I believe your last word was ‘huge’.” He said weakly, finally making eye contact with you. A chuckle went through the crowd as more caught on to the joke. You held each other’s gaze for a moment before quickly looking away.

“Right.” You nodded. “This is such a huge…a huge… sorry, what’s this award for?” You pretended to wipe sweat of your forehead as you turned around to read the screen.

“I believe it was Best Kiss.” Tom said before taking a deep, dramatic breath. You stared at each other for a long time, the only sound in the room now being your swallow breaths.

“Are we - - are we about to kiss?” You asked through a forced laugh before making your face completely serious. Tom raised his eyebrows before nodding and beginning to lean it. You leaned in to and right before your lips could touch, your heads snapped towards the crowd.

“Thank you so much!” You held up the award with a huge smile. “We love you guys! Thank you!”

This got a much bigger reaction than the last time as people cheered and laughed at your performance.

“That went well.” You gripped Toms sleeve in excitement as you walked back to your seats. “We got a lot of laughs.”

“I got a lot of laughs. You were a little flat.” He teased, pretending to flip hair behind his shoulder as you sat down.

“Mmm. Love you too.” You cupped his chin and narrowed your eyes at him. The actors and singers around you congratulated you on your first win on the night, all saying you got them with the fake out kiss.

The evening continued with an elated cloud over your seating area as you and Tom soaked up the win.

“Is it just me, or are the cameras hovering around us?” He said suddenly, calling your attention to the many cameras pointed in your direction. You waved at one and the camera man waved back.

“Trying to catch a stolen kiss I presume.” You shrugged as you gripped the award.

“Like we’d ruin the surprise.” He scoffed and put his arm around your shoulders. The second award you were nominated for together was next and your leg was already bouncing.

“I’m gonna be more disappointed in not doing our acceptance speech than I’d be in losing if we don’t get this award.” Tom said, practically reading your mind.

“I know.” You squeezed his knee anxiously. “Fingers crossed.”

“Good luck, darling.” He pulled you in closer and pressed a kiss to your temple.

“I don’t need luck when I have the best screen partner in the world.” You raised your eyebrows at him as you leaned into his body. You stayed in that position as Vanessa Hudgens read the nominees.

“And tonight’s winners for Best Onscreen Couple…Tom Holland and Y/n L/n!” She announced with a smile.

“See?” You smirked at Tom as you stood up.

“Guess I should tell you you’re welcome.” He teased as he scooped you into a tight embrace. He gathered the train of your dress in hand and helped you out of the aisle.

“I’m shaking.” You whispered to him as you made your way to the steps of the stage. “I’m gonna fall.”

“I got you, darling. I won’t let you fall.” He said as he took your hand with his free one and helped you up the stairs. You hugged Vanessa tightly once you got to the podium, whispering in her ear about being a fan.

“Thank you so much for this award.” Tom began your rehearsed acceptance speech. “I’ve always wanted to win best couple.”

“Onscreen couple.” You leaned towards the microphone to correct him. He looked at you in confusion but kept a smile on his face.

“What?”

“We won for best onscreen couple.” You pointed behind you. “Not best couple.”

“Oh.” He nodded like he understood. “So what did we win Best Couple for?”

“We didn’t, since we’re not a couple.” You said slowly, bringing back your joke from earlier in the evening. The audience chuckled as Tom made a show of reading the award and the screen behind him.

“Are you sure?” He asked suddenly, as if he didn’t believe you.

“Oh My God.” You groaned as you rubbed your eyes.

“Cause I feel like we are.” He gestured between the two of you. You shrugged a little and scooted closer to him while batting your lashes.

“I mean…do you wanna be?” You feigned shyness as you tucked some hair behind your ear.

“I don’t know.” He fumbled with the buttons on his suit jacket. “What do you want to do?”

“I don’t know.” You shrugged and looked away. “What do you want to do?”

“I could get my mom to text your mom and they could set something up.” He suggested as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Okay.” You smiled and picked up the award. “Maybe later we could like, you know.”

You shrugged and he laughed shyly.

“Uh Huh.” He nodded eagerly. “Or we could do like whatever.”

“Yeah.” You let out a shaky breath. “Whatever.”

The two of you smiled in appreciation at the crowd before walking off, award tucked in the crook of your elbow and hands intertwined.

~

“This is the one I’m most excited for.” Tom told you as you waiting for Best Actress to be announced. Tom was the one presenting it, which only made your anxiety spike.

“But it’s just me.” You laughed as you looked at him.

“I know.” He shrugged bashfully. “You don’t need me to win. You’re the real reason people voted for us.”

“You’re just saying that.” You shook your head and put your hand on his bicep.

“Cause it’s true.” He insisted. “You got this.”

“Thanks for voting for me.” You answered sincerely, dragging your fingertips along his cheek.

“How could I not?” He tilted his head before getting tapped by one of the stage assistants. “I gotta go. Good luck.”

He brought your hand to his lips and kissed your knuckles before following the assistant backstage.

You ran your hands over the arm rest, wishing Tom was still beside you to calm your nerves. You only had to wait about twenty minutes before Tom walked on stage with the envelope in hand.

“Nice to see you all again.” Tom greeted. “I know it’s strange to see me without my partner in crime, but she’s busy running through her acceptance speech in her head. Have I pissed off all the other Best Actress nominees? I bet I have.” He joked, earning a few laughs.

“Here are tonight’s nominees for Best Actress.”

You clapped for very nominated actress, noticing the wink Tom sent you when your name was displayed on the screen. Finally, it was time to announce the winner.

“And the winner of Best Actress is…” Tom’s eyes flicked up from the card before looking down again. You shut your eyes tightly and it felt like there was no air in the entire room.

“Y/n L/n.”

Your eyes flew open when you heard Tom call your name. You looked at the stage first, seeing him clapping and whistling for you with a proud smile. The people around you congratulating you, patting your back and rubbing your shoulders as you walked towards the stage. Tom had tears in his eyes as he met you at the top of the stairs, helping you stay balanced in your way to the podium. Tom got there first and took the ward off the podium and held it out to you.

“Here you go, baby.” Tom handed you the award.

Before you could take another step, he took your face between his hands and kissed you firmly. He smiled softly at you once he pulled way as you touched your fingertips to your lips in surprise.

He stepped back and let you move towards the microphone, still feeling flustered from the kiss and the win. You looked at the crowd and felt your mind go blank and they roared with applause. You looked over your shoulder at Tom, who gave you an assuring smile and mouthed “go on.” You blew out a breath and turned back to the audience, having a better grasp on what you wanted to say now.

“I can assure you, I was expecting that as much as you were.” You let out a breathy laugh and the audience laughed too.

“Thank you so much for this. This award means a lot to me.” You held up the award to punctuate your sentence. “I went into this movie thinking it would be a great opportunity to do something different than what I’m used to. I certainly didn’t go into this movie thinking I’d meet the love of my life.” You paused and smiled as a hush fell over the crowd. “Tom and I fell in love over scripts and cups of coffee at midnight, so much in love that I’m not sure I deserve this award because I wasn’t acting. Every soft touch and stolen glance, that was just me being in love with my scene partner.”

You stopped and let the audience clap for your statement, looking over your shoulder at Tom before continuing.

“I guess the secrets out now.” You laughed as you shook your head. “We had a running bet on who would accidentally reveal it first. So in addition to the three awards I won tonight, I will be getting twenty dollars.”

You heard Tom chuckling from behind you and felt compelled to finish up so you could hug him.

“All jokes aside, the number one person I want to thank tonight is Tom. I couldn’t have done this without you. And I’d never want to. I hope I spend the rest of my career sneaking Swedish Fish into award shows with you. Thank you.” You held up the award one last time before turning to Tom. He wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted you off the ground, spinning you around as he pressed a lingering kiss to your cheek.

“Sorry about that. I couldn’t help myself. I was too proud of you.” He smiled as he set you down. You began to walk backstage together, hand in hand.

“It’s all right.” You assured him. “I always appreciate a romantic gesture.”

Tom stayed quiet as you made your way back to your seats, a strange look troubling his handsome features.

“What is it?” You asked as you sat down again. Tom pursed his lips as a shy smile lit up his face.

“That was the first time you said you loved me.” He said timidly as he scratched behind his ear. Your mouth opened and shut as you found yourself at a loss for words. In the excitement of the moment, you hadn’t even realized you admitted your real feelings for him. You’d only been dating two months and while you loved him whole heartedly, you had never had the guts to tell him. Tom looked at you expectingly as he awaited your answer. Knowing there was no going back, you shrugged it off.

“Well I do.” You said finally, making his smile grow. “Is that all right?”

“Is that all right?” He laughed and took your hand in his, pressing a kiss to the back of it. “Yeah. That’s all right.”

“Good. Because I do love you.” You leaned into him and rubbed your nose against his. He scrunched his nose as you made contact, still holding tightly to your hand.

“I love you too.” He said for the first time, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders. “Congratulations, darling.”

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[lizbotw]

impatient | itadori

you can’t decide if being left alone with him is a blessing or a curse half the time.

itadori yuuji x reader

word count: 2.2k

inspired by fushiguro being all pouty when he didn’t get to help itadori and kugisaki in that one episode :(

“This is so boring.”

“Yuuji, shut up.”

Shoe soles scrapping against the gravel, you didn’t even bother looking at him, although the burning gaze you already felt prickled the hairs on the back of your neck.

“You’re bored too.” It wasn’t a question.

“We’re supposed to wait for them out here.”

There was a flash of color in your peripheral and a side glance revealed that he was tapping the heel of his red sneakers on the ground—another thirty seconds of that and you’d probably end up threatening him to a life without legs (not that it’d work—Sukuna in all his stupid glory would just regenerate them for his precious vessel; speaking of which, if Sukuna decided to start complaining right now too, you were sure you would lose your mind).

Whistling wind was the only reply to your statement and, content your ears would be spared from the monologue of complaints Yuuji had been going through for who-knows-how-long-now, you crossed your arms and tilted your head back to lean against the brick wall. The stone was dusted with a rustic red—standard, yet somehow fitting for the scene around you. The building looming in front of you was dilapidated in appearance, but you admitted the sleepy residential neighborhood it was located in had some charm to it in a weary, tired sort of way. The splash of brightly colored flowers and houses on some corners really upped the appeal you had to say.

Caught up surveying the surrounding area in admiration, you were almost able to forget about the boy perched on top of the junction where the wall dipped in its height down to a low brick fence just short enough to climb on top of. Almost.

As soon as the sigh left him from beside you, your face reacted before your mind had even fully comprehended what it meant (what it meant was that there was no chance you’d get any peace and quiet around here at this rate), your features annoyed and frowning and everything in between as had become routine at this point. “Why can’t we go in?” he whined, nudging you with his knee. His gaze was expectant and weirdly innocent as he peered up at you, as though you were explaining to a child why they had to have patience. You supposed that comparison could be accurate most times when it came to Yuuji.

“Because Gojou said so.”

“He’s not even here!” That was true. He was off on some super secret mission, although the instructions he had given the group of you were specific—or... er, not too specific that you couldn’t take some... creative liberties in their interpretation, such as stopping for ice cream on the way there as per Kugisaki’s demand request—trusting the lot of you to take care of yourselves and follow them to a T. And by that, he of course meant Fushiguro keeping everyone in line.

There was another curse to take care of, yet Gojou had decided to have you two sit this one out and simply accompany Megumi and Nobara to the site—those two were to actually head inside and deal with the threat. In hindsight, it all made sense considering you, Yuuji, and Megumi had spent more time around each other prior to Nobara’s arrival at the school, no matter how minuscule the time difference was. Hell, you and Yuuji had both spent more time fighting alongside Nobara than Megumi had (they always seemed to keep getting separated from each other in some way or another during the early missions, a laughable observation now that you thought about it). Naturally, letting those two duke it out and come to a somewhat agreeable partnership was the best course of action, and what better way to do that than force them into an abandoned building together?

But even in spite of all that clear-minded reasoning, you couldn’t lie that you weren’t more than a little peeved that you weren’t getting in on any of the action. You scoffed. Team bonding, but at what cost? At the cost of your sanity, that’s what.

You rubbed your temples, squeezing your eyes shut. You no longer wanted to see. “Yuuji, we’re supposed to keep watch,” you huffed out, exasperated. Although truth be told, the title of “guards” just seemed like some fancy namesake Gojou had given you two in order to placate you and make you feel like you were actually doing something. Needless to say, it was not working.

The low section of the wall he sat upon was one half of the area that flanked the archway of the path that led up to the building, and Yuuji, stupid and silly and cute, peeked his head just around the corner to look out of the entrance at the (empty) street and then turned back to you with a shrug. “Nothing there. Job done.” Playfully adorable as he was, you cracked a smile at that, shaking your head.

“Guess you’re right—job done,” you conceded.

He beamed and then hopped off of the ledge, pacing now. You wanted to stretch your legs too and go exploring around the area, but you were trying to be the voice of reason here, knowing that if you gave up that control you were a goner for sure. It was painfully easy to get swept up in his antics.

You barely even registered him setting off on another tangent about how he wanted to go inside too, more so focused on his hands as he switched from swinging them at his side to putting them up in a mock thinking expression for his head to rest upon as he kept walking back and forth in front of you—you were wondering if (and if so, when was the perfect moment) you could reach out and grab ahold of his hand to still the restless energy... and also partially because you just wanted to.

“They’ve been in there a long time, haven’t they?” Yuuji mused, your mind actually picking up on the question now that it was directed at you and not at some vague imaginary spot in the distance. He was right. You noted the glow of the red of the bricks making up the wall as they shone brilliantly warm under the softer evening light, the silent ticking of time among the clouds your only indication of the day passing. The sky was in between the bright shades of blue of the sunny afternoon and the orange hues that were gradually creeping in and mixing with them.

“They have,” you confirmed. You wondered if you would be here until nightfall with how long it was taking them. You crossed your arms again and drummed your fingers against them. Come on already, I have things to do.

After a staring contest with one of the many dust-covered windows of the building as though you were mentally willing the two inside to come out, your narrowed gaze swung over to Yuuji to see what he was up to and promptly widened. You hadn’t noticed that he had stopped his pacing and was looking at you now, closer than you remembering him being moments before.

“And... we’ve been alone this entire time, haven’t we?” Another step forward, casual yet making you suspicious all the same.

“...yes,” you replied, wary of the grin he had—you would’ve thought it was Sukuna if not for the crinkle of his eyes into a smile that matched the one on his lips (oh yeah, that was Yuuji alright).

His steps were so easy, carefree, as though he were sauntering up to talk to you any other time, but you knew him and you knew when he was planning something. Sure, there were times you were downright confused by just about everything he did, but then there were others where his thoughts were just plain obvious.

“And what have we been doing?” In one swift movement he had trapped you against the wall—another step and your back would hit the surface—piercing look pinning you in place. It was a sudden development but you also had the notion that you should have seen this coming from a mile away. He didn’t even need to put an arm out to prevent you from side-stepping out of the spot, his mere presence enough (although you very much wanted to wipe that sweet smile off of his face).

Your mind scrambled for words, you glancing off to the side briefly—you could not maintain eye contact with him like this. “Talking?”

His eyes lit up and you had the feeling you’d just fallen right into his trap. The hand that came up to cup your face confirmed your suspicions. “Yeah, and that’s boring, isn’t it?”

You swallowed, trying to still your breathing. “It is...”

Yuuji tilted his face forward to lean his forehead against yours, skin warm. Both of you were silent aside from the quiet hitches of breath, scrutinizing one another. When you felt his thumb press against the full part of your bottom lip in interest, you just about lost it. His voice was smooth and low when he spoke, “I was going to wait until later but...” You felt him breath in.

Later was usually when anything happened, you two not yet entirely bold or confident enough when it came to most displays of affection in public—or at least in front of the others that was. Their teasing was enough to have your face burning in shame for days, even if you had to admit it was funny at times. You barely even held hands in front of them. Then again... following Yuuji’s train of thought... you had been out here alone for so long already... maybe it wouldn’t hurt to just...—you weren’t lost to contemplation for long though as he brought you back to reality.

A mere brush of his lips against yours stopped you from replying, your eyes falling closed, heart hammering. Your hand found a weak grip on the front of his shirt as you waited expectantly for the warm flush of his mouth.

“What are you two doing?”

You jolted at the familiar voice, heart hammering for an entirely different reason now, and pulled away from Yuuji’s face, although his grip on your head didn’t let you get far, the press of his ring finger and pinky into the back of your neck dizzying. Fushiguro and Kugisaki stood a few feet away, looking a little worse for wear with minor scrapes and bruises littered on their exposed skin, but thankfully all in one piece.

Eyes darting to them, mind reeling as you realized the compromising position you had been caught in, you thought up an excuse on the spot.

“Standing guard.”

“About to kiss.”

You and Yuuji both spoke at once. You slowly looked at each other, blinking.

A second passed and then— “Why are you lying?” he asked, genuinely confused.

You slapped a hand across his chest in horror at him blatantly blowing your cover like that. “Yuuji!” You were mortified (but also... he was still so close... it was almost easy to forget that the other two were still there).

“I...” Fushiguro looked like he was about to say something but thought better of it and shook his head. “I don’t want details. Let’s just go.”

A sigh of relief left you, but then Yuuji gave a chipper, “Okay!” and when he still didn’t release his hold, you had a vague feeling in your gut that something was wrong—

He leaned forward to close the gap at last and press his lips against yours, swallowing up your breath in the process—then he pulled away like it was nothing, off to go bother Fushiguro about the details of the curse.

You stood there, dumbfounded.

A gasp. “Gross!” Kugisaki shrieked, sounding like she wanted a break from everything that had occurred in the past five hours. She was sticking her tongue out, nose scrunched up and eyes screwed shut. “I cannot see anything cute after dealing with that thing inside.” A nose of discontentment, “Bleh.” But then she seemed to have a moment of clarity, clapping both hands on the side of her face and giving you a look that might as well have been an overexaggerated wink paired with her shouting every cliche couple trope from the rooftops. “But also... romantic.” Please someone save you.

Fushiguro was looking a little pale himself, caught off guard by the display of affection, staring at you, but then catching himself and looking away. He looked embarrassed and he didn’t even have anything to do with it.

Carefully, robotically, you brought a finger up to brush against your lips, still warm where Yuuji’s had molded between them, and subsequently noticed the teasing look he was giving you in the distance. It was a little too smug for your liking.

You stalked up to him and jabbed a finger into his chest, staring him down. “Yuuji, I swear-”

Kugisaki shoved the two of you towards the exit before you could get into a fist fight over a single surprise kiss, tsking while Fushiguro followed behind in her wake (you wondered if he would recover from... that any time soon—poor boy). “Okay, move it along, lovebirds. I want to go take a shower.”

[onceupon]

London Boy - Part 3: I like girls that dance

summary: It’s your first night out and your first real introduction to Westheath. Rafe is quick to find his way on your radar.

pairing: Rafe x reader (slowburn)

warnings: swearing, drinking

word count: 4.6k

a/n: the way I’m imagining Jack Harlow as I write Liam 😩✋also, im pulling these chapter titles out of my ass - but actually tho, go listen to Girls That Dance by Masego 

Part 1 Part 2

Despite your doubts, you put on the sheer top and the black mini skirt Millie and Olivia had insisted you wear. Your favorite pregame playlist plays as you do your makeup in the mirror. You move as quickly as you can, in desperate need of a shot to calm your nerves before your flat fills with people. You’re also nervous about seeing Rafe after that encounter in the kitchen you just had. 

As you run your fingers through your hair and put on your earrings, all you can see is his stupid (and annoyingly attractive) face, staring down at you with that dumb backwards cap, telling you that you guys should watch Game of Thrones together. Every time your mind starts to think if that means something, you quickly shut down the thought. Of course it doesn’t mean anything. Just because a boy wants to watch a show with you does not automatically mean he wants you or that this was going to turn into some kind of Netflix and chill situation. Or was this gonna be a Netflix and chill situation? I mean it was Rafe Cameron after all, the boy certainly had a reputation. But then again, hadn’t he just showed you that he’s different from what you had expected? Oh god this was all too much to think about right now, you needed a shot. Stat. 

“Y/N!” Olivia shouts, swinging the door to your room open right on cue. “Oh. My. God. You look so hot!” she exclaims. “Here, this is for you,” she extends a shot glass toward you with a devilish grin. 

“Oh god what is it,” you grimace. Shots always seemed like a better idea in theory than in practice. 

“Try it and find out,” she smirks. You sigh and send the liquid to the back of your throat, immediately cringing at the sting of raspberry vodka, Olivia bringing a cup of cranberry juice to your mouth to chase. 

“Don’t worry love, a few more and you won’t even taste it. Now come on,” she laughs, dragging you with her to the kitchen. The rest of your flatmates are already there, Millie bopping along to the music, giggling at whatever Topper is saying, Rafe standing close by sipping his drink. 

“Y/n you hottie!” Millie cheers, looking up as you make your way into the kitchen. You pray to god your cheeks aren’t turning pink. You don’t dare turn your head, but you know Rafe is staring at you. If you looked at him now you’d be crimson for sure. 

“Alright everybodyyy,” Olivia begins, pouring the same raspberry vodka into the five shot glasses she has lined up on the table. You can’t help but laugh at her infectious energy, this girl is nothing if not the life of the party. 

“Cheers to our first night out as flat mates! Wooo!!!” she exclaims, as everyone grabs a shot glass from the table, Rafe instinctively passing you one, hands briefly touching during the exchange and again as you all clink your glasses. You down the contents, unsure if the heat forming in your chest is from the vodka or the feeling of Rafe’s passing touch. 

Pretty soon people start to arrive, Olivia and Millie making sure to introduce everyone. The flat becomes a blur of bodies drinking, dancing, and mingling about, and somehow, despite it all, Rafe Cameron is the person you find yourself standing with. There was something magnetic about him that you couldn’t quite understand, but it kept drawing you near. 

“What are you drinking tonight Cameron,” you nod at the cup in his hand.

“Jack and coke. Of course,” he scoffs with subtle sarcasm, which you instantly pick up on. 

“Not straight whiskey? Wow. That’s not very Figure 8 of you,” you admonish playfully.

“Straight whiskey? L/n who do you think I am?” he twists his face in mock disbelief. “But I’m game to do a shot if you are,” he adds.

“Hmm that does-“ you begin, but you’re quickly cutoff. 

“Y/n, babe, if I had known you’d be here I would’ve came sooner,” Liam greets you with a kiss on the cheek and a cheeky smile. 

“Now how on earth do you two know each other,” Millie asks, walking in line with the boy.

“Umm,” you chuckle nervously. You could not have possibly felt more awkward at the conversation unfolding in front of you, Rafe standing by as witness to it all. “He’s that boy I went to the bar with the other night,” you explain sheepishly.

“That was Liam!? Chrissake. Well I apologize on his behalf for anything he said or did.”

“Hey I’ll have you know I’m a proper gentleman!” he defends, throwing you a wink as Millie rolls her eyes. Just at that moment, another group of people walk in through the door, conveniently coming to Rafe’s rescue.

“Rafe!” a girl calls and he clears his throat excusing himself, Millie following suit to greet the latest batch of guests. You watch as he leans in for a hug with the girl who’s just called his name. She’s twirling her hair and batting her eyes, confident, flirty, gorgeous - just his type. A sick feeling pools in your stomach, you don’t even realize you’re staring. 

“Lily Colts, if that’s what you’re wondering,” Liam informs you as he takes the now empty spot next to you.

“Oh, um no, I was just uh-“

“It’s okay Y/n, I get it. So flatmate huh” he laughs, unbothered.

“No no it’s not like that at all I uh-”

“Alright. Y/n,” he says, jumping up to sit on the counter behind him, cracking open the can in his hand. “You know I think you’re hot and you know I like messing with you-”

“Actually I know neither of those things,” you reply indignantly. 

“Yes you do, you’re not dim,” he bulldozes right on, “I can read people pretty well, and there was a vibe there.”

“A vibe?”

“Yeah. Between you and what’s-his-face. You should’ve seen the way he tensed up when I came up to you,” he snickers in amusement.

“Shut up. His name is Rafe, by the way, and there was no ‘vibe.’ Also why are you even telling me this?” you ask, growing frustrated with the cocky brunette.

“Y/n please,” he scoffs. “I told you I can read people, so let me read you. You’re out here in London right, far away from home, keen for a fresh start. You’ve never been one for meaningless flings, but fuck it, if everyone else can do it, why not you? Or so you try to convince yourself, but you know that’s not you. See, you crave that emotional connection, and when you find even a hint of it, you’re a goner. Which is why you’d never actually hook up with me and it’s why you’re staring at that boy from home even though you swear you don’t care, but you do - you feel something there.”

You’re dumbfounded by his ability to know things about you that even you yourself can’t recognize. “I liked it better when you were just flirting with me,” you grumble.  

“No worries darling, I’ll definitely still do that. I’ll even dance on you in the club if you ask nicely, might make pretty boy over there jealous,” he motions with his eyes toward Rafe, at which you give his shoulder a shove.

“You’re an idiot you know, Millie was right on the money with that,” you quip, as the two of you head over to her, Liv, and the boys.

“Please, Millie wishes she could be right on something else,” he says as you shoot him a glare, trying your best to suppress a laugh. Liam was starting to become a pain in your ass, too smart for his own good, but at least he was a funny one.

—

Your first night clubbing was going great. The place was packed, the music was good, and you were having a blast dancing with Liv, Millie, and their friends. You couldn’t help looking around the club though, eyes scanning for Rafe in the crowd. He’d been hanging out all night with Topper and some of the guys from their new soccer team. You longed to be near him somehow, to interact with him again. All your conversations with him earlier today had left you with an excited buzz - you didn’t know what it was about this version of Rafe Cameron in London, but you were actually enjoying his company.

You try to push him out of your mind and just enjoy the moment. It’s not like there was anything between you and Rafe, you had just barely began to form a semblance of a potential friendship today, let’s not get carried away. Besides, you live with the boy, accidentally running into him wasn’t going to be much of a challenge. 

“Anyone want anything from the bar?” you shout over the music to your friends.

“Vodka soda with lime please!” Olivia shouts back and you nod, turning to make your way to the counter a few feet away. You place your order and mindlessly tap your fingers on the bar as a figure appears beside you.

“Hey, Y/n right? Flatmates with Olivia, Mills, and the boys?” the girl asks, and you turn, now face to face with Lily. 

“Uh yeah, hey,” you feign a smile back. 

“I’m Lily, nice to meet you,” she smiles genuinely. “I’m friends with all the Westheath bozos you’ve probably been meeting tonight,” she laughs, “Callum and Henry over there are my best mates. They’re on the football team with Rafe and Topper, we were showing them around earlier. My god you guys have been hoarding some cute ones over there in America.”

You chuckle, “glad that Kildare’s presence can at least be of some benefit.” 

“So, girl to girl here, what can you tell me about Rafe Cameron? He’s such a hottie isn’t he? Would love to get a taste of that,” she smirks, licking her lips.

“Umm I don’t really have much to tell,” you say, unsure of how to navigate this conversation. You could tell her what you thought you knew of Outer Banks Rafe - he’s a rich, party-boy player. But after today, that no longer felt right. You didn’t want to say or presume anything about him at all actually, it felt wrong to talk about him like that. God, what the hell was wrong with you? You spend a few hours with the boy and you already have a soft spot for him? You needed to get a grip. “Our families know each other but we don’t really hang out at home. He’s uh- he’s cool though,” you decide as a sufficient response.

“Any girl friend?” she asks, sliding cash over to the bartender as she orders a shot.

“Rafe’s not really the ‘girlfriend-type’,” you answer, bartender sliding you the drinks you ordered and Lily her’s. 

“Well then cheers to that,” she grins, clinking her shot glass to your drink before she downs it, waving a quick goodbye. You watch as she makes her way back to Rafe and their group, adorning a flirty smile. You feel sick to your stomach. You wanted to hate her, you did. But you couldn’t. She wasn’t doing anything wrong. She was just confident, outgoing, and not afraid to go after what she wanted. There was nothing for you to be angry about, who was stopping you from doing the same?

 But in the back of your mind you decided you could never go after Rafe like that. He would never be interested in you in that way, you were sure of it. You had a hard time believing your friends when they hyped you up, so you definitely weren’t going to believe for a single second that a boy you thought was cool could possibly look at you in the same way. Besides, the mere idea of being rejected by Rafe Cameron, and then having to continue living with him and eventually go back to the Outer Banks for everyone to find out you had been rejected by the kook prince, was so mortifying that the very thought made you want to crawl into a hole. So you promise yourself, right then and there, that you won’t let yourself get hurt like that. You could hang out with Rafe, get to know him, become friends even, but under no circumstances could you be caught wearing your heart on your sleeve. You couldn’t disarm yourself like that and give him the upper hand. You needed to look out for yourself first and foremost, preserving the little bit of control you still had over your life. 

You walk back over to your friends, slipping Liv her drink as her and Jake dance together. Your new friends are all tipsy and in a world of their own, getting lost in the music and their movements.

“Dance with me,” you turn to Liam who’s right beside you.

“I said if you ask nicely,” he admonishes sarcastically, to which you roll your eyes.

“I’m not gonna beg Liam. You wanna dance or not?”

“Sheesh, Lily Colts got your panties in a twist like that?”

“Not. At. All.” You confidently stare into his eyes, sipping your drink. It’s no use, Liam knows you all too well by now, and you curse yourself for the way in which this boy is able to see right through all the walls you put up. You may think these walls are made of brick, but to Liam they’re glass.

He just laughs at you, shaking his head in amusement. He grabs your free hand and pulls you closer to him, your bodies now pressed together. He takes your hand and rests it on the back of his neck, his finding their way to your hips. He plants his leg in between yours and soon you guys are lost in the rhythm. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t enjoying every second. He spins you around and you lightly grind your ass against him.

“Damn Y/n, I didn’t know you move like that,” he jokes, as you face forward again. He leans in, his hand on the small of your back, and you feel his breath right against your ear, “he’s looking by the way.” Your breath hitches, but you know better than to turn around. Liam is already one step ahead of you, instinctively twirling you again so you can quickly catch a glimpse of Rafe’s eyes on yours without it being obvious. “Told you he’d be jealous,” he smirks down at you triumphantly.

“Shut up,” you reply, the slightest smile tugging at your lips as your sweaty bodies continue to move to the music.

—-

“Aw flatmate bonding you guysss,” Olivia gushes, as you all sit together at a booth. She had forced you all out of your beds this morning to get breakfast together. Despite being hungover and groggy, you all reluctantly agreed. “Mimosas anyone?” she jokes.

“If I so much as smell any alcohol I think I’ll vomit,” Topper groans.

“Aw, what’s the matter, can’t handle your liquor Tops?” Millie asks, quirking her head to the side.

“Ha. Ha. Very funny. Could ask you the same question. My room is right next to the bathroom, don’t think I didn’t hear your retching last night,” he snaps back, to which Millie turns bright red and soon you’re all hunched over in laughter.

“I think a mimosa would make me yak right now too, to be fair. Coffees all around!” Olivia asserts.

You’re seated across from Rafe as you both scan your menus, your eyes immediately fixing in on the pancakes. The waiter comes by to take all your orders and you can’t help but blush a little when Rafe orders pancakes and you have to follow with a “same for me.” Such a silly, meaningless thing, I mean everyone likes pancakes. But being the only one to have the same exact order as Rafe leaves you feeling embarrassed, for no good reason all the same. You all begin to scarf down your food as soon as it arrives, thankful to have something to soak up the alcohol in your stomachs, as you share stories and laugh about last night’s drunken antics. 

“So how is it that we’re all flatmates and yet I only have Topper’s contact. Come on, add ‘em in,” Rafe says, sliding his unlocked phone to the middle of the table.

“Wait I want snapchats too. Oooh! And instagram!” Olivia pipes, whipping out her phone as well.

“I expect no booty calls Cameron. This is strictly business,” Millie jokes, typing in her and Olivia’s numbers before passing his phone to you. 

“Am I allowed a booty call?” Topper smirks, extending his phone as well.

“I wouldn’t push your luck Thornton,” she smirks back and he pouts in response. You finish typing your name and number into Rafe’s phone and hand it back to him, skin briefly making contact once again. Even though you had known Rafe all your life, somehow you two never had a reason to exchange numbers, only following each other on Instagram which he never posted on anyways.

“Alright everyone, pull up your snapchat codes, I wanna make a group,” Olivia says and everyone obliges, arms crossing every which way as you all add each other. “What should we name our group chat? Ooo can we do a ship name of our schools - like Kilheath or Westare?” 

“I like Kilheath,” Topper chimes in.

“Yeah I bet you do you psychopath. Sounds like the name of a bad horror movie,” Rafe laughs.

“Oooo there’s five of us, we could be the Spice Girls,” Millie beams.

“No.” Topper immediately shuts her down. 

“What about ‘American Boys and Spice Girls.’ You know, like the Kanye West song,” you add.

“Ehh, we’re getting closer, but not quite there,” Rafe teases you and you playfully kick him under the table. “I’m hearing a lot of opinions and not a lot of contributions,” you cross your arms and raise your brows.

“Hey hey hey, I’m a critic, not a chef L/n,” he lifts his hands in surrender.

“Ooo I got it! We can call it the ‘Royal fam,’ like the royal family,” Olivia suggests, finally getting approval from the whole group. Breakfast is soon over and you all return to your rooms, eager to nap away the remainder of your hangovers. You lay in your bed and stare at the newly formed snapchat group on your phone. Royal Fam 🇬🇧🇺🇸 appears on top and you scroll down, looking at Rafe’s username and bitmoji on your screen. You laugh at the fact that even his bitmoji wears a backwards cap. It was weird, having him in your phone like this. You had known this boy your whole life, but you two had always operated in separate spheres. And here he was, in your Snapchat, a glimpse into the life of Rafe, of which you only ever got a birds eye view of back home. It almost felt like you were trespassing somewhere you didn’t belong, having access to him like this. You sigh and lock your phone. Rafe Cameron really isn’t all that bad.

—

The next few days fly by fast as you become acclimated to Westheath. You and the rest of the Kildare kids attend an orientation with Westheath’s exchange advisor, spending the whole time with your little trio: you, Rafe, and Topper. When you had first arrived abroad, you were deadset on forging your own path in London and steering clear of everyone else from OBX. But hanging out with Rafe and Topper made you all but forget. It was fun and easy hanging out with them, in fact, counterintuitively, they were helping you forget all about the Outer Banks, just as you had hoped to do. Your conversations centered around your interests, your new lives, on random jokes and made up bits. It was almost as if there was a mutual unspoken agreement between you, them also trying to escape and forget their lives in OBX.

Pretty soon classes began, and you were learning a new schedule and adapting to British schooling. Your evenings were spent singing and dancing in the kitchen as you, Liv, and Millie simultaneously cooked your dinners, getting pints at the pub around the corner with your Westheath friends, and playing card games at the kitchen table with Rafe and Topper, the smack talk between you three flowing strong. There’d be short moments where you’d find yourself alone with Rafe - he’d explain to you whatever Premier League team was playing that day, you’d show him how the coffee machine works, and the occasional passing comments of “so when are we finally starting Game of Thrones, Cameron?” “I’m ready whenever you are, L/n.”

—

It was a Wednesday night, and you were curled up in your fluffy gray blanket watching Gilmore Girls in bed. You found the show comforting and familiar, the small town of Stars Hallow reminding you of what you wished your life in the Outer Banks could be like. Instead it was more like the cold and pretentious atmosphere of Chilton and the older Gilmores’ Hartford life. Your phone buzzes, and you pick it up lazily to check, suddenly freezing at the notification on your screen.

Snapchat: Rafe Cameron

You had opened a few snapchats from the boy over the past few days, but they were always random ones he would send to the group chat. This one was just for you. You gulp and put your phone down, not wanting to open it too fast. A few minutes go by and you realize you haven’t paid an ounce of attention to the show on your screen, even though you’re staring right at it. Fuck it. You open your phone and tap on the unread snap.

When are we watching Game of Thrones L/n the snapchat says, a picture of his laptop on his bed and the HBO Max home page open, the series featured in the corner of the screen.

You snap back a picture of your blanket and the laptop playing Gilmore Girls in front of you: ready whenever you are Cameron.

Almost immediately you get a response back.

Rafe Cameron: wait are you home rn? His message is accompanied by a random picture of his room, a view you let your eyes linger on until the message expires. Another peak into Rafe Cameron’s world.

Y/n: Yep! You send a blurry selfie of you wrapped in your blanket.

Rafe Cameron: be over in 5

You leave that last message on open and your heart starts to race. Just breathe Y/n, breathe, you keep telling yourself. It doesn’t have to be a big deal if you don’t make it out to be. It’s just a show. Just a show. And besides, you guys are friends now, right? You sit up in your bed and grab your pillow, shifting over to sit horizontally on your mattress. That seems more casual to you, more ‘just a couple friends watching a show together at a comfortable distance’ and less ‘sitting right on top of each other Netflix and chill’. You gulp down some water to ease your dry throat when you hear a gentle knock.

“Come in!” you call out, and now Rafe Cameron is in your room, eyes absorbing all the details that are so you. The posters on one wall, film camera photos on another. The string lights which wrap around your room and give it a warm glow. The plants, the subtle scent of vanilla. The bag you always carried with you, hanging off the side of your chair. He almost felt like he was intruding, like he was getting an intimate glimpse of something that was for your eyes only. 

“Whats up,” he says, holding his laptop and closing the door behind him. 

“Ready to finally start the show,” you laugh, “it’s about damn time.”

“Hey, I’ve been ready, it’s you who’s been taking your sweet time.”

“Is that so?” you ask sarcastically and a smile forms on his face.

“What are you doing over there? Who sits like that on their bed?” he asks, now coming over and taking a seat on your mattress facing vertically, propping your other pillow behind his back. “Can’t even stretch out your legs or anything,” he continues, patting the spot on the bed next to him, signaling for you to come over.

“I don’t know, I think it’s comfy,” you lie as you crawl over to him, your first line of defense already shot down. 

“Weirdo,” he chuckles to which you nudge him in the side with your elbow. “If Topper’s wrong about this I’m gonna give him so much shit,” he says.

“Topper does have a lot of questionable opinions,” you laugh, “but I have a good feeling about this one.

—

One episode turned into two turned into three, you and Rafe instantly hooked. The nerves you had felt earlier at sitting so close next to this boy in your bed had all but dissipated, you quickly acclimating to the space he took up next to you. Even though by now all your previous misconceptions about Rafe had disappeared, replaced with the boy you had come to know over the past week, there was a small part of you that was still waiting to see if he’d try to pull something on you, like the Rafe you imagined back home surely would. Of course he didn’t, watching and discussing the show with you, making you feel as comfortable as if you two had been friends for years. You almost felt bad for having had doubted him in the first place.

When the third episode ended and you two got into a long post-episode discussion, you hardly noticed when the conversation began to digress. You both started to sink lower and lower down into your pillows, until you were both laying on your backs, staring at the ceiling and lost in exchanges of words and thoughts. The conversation was different this time, more candid and open, as if the shadow of the night was inviting you to divulge thoughts you wouldn’t have shared in the day. He spoke of his strained relationship with his father and you shared the silly drama that had caused a riff between you and your former friends back home. He showed you pictures of his dog and you showed him the video you had been working on all summer long in OBX, not having anyone to hang out with before you left for London. He talked about how he felt so disconnected from almost everyone on that island, and you nodded, understanding all too well. The conversation continued to ebb and flow, the occasional funny video or meme pulling you two into fits of laughter before seamlessly delving into another vulnerable train of thought. You both had your Spotify accounts open now, taking turns sharing your favorite songs. You put on a playlist you had made over the summer, full of songs that made you feel at peace. 

“This puts you at ease huh,” he says.

You turn your head to look at him, “how could you tell?”

“I don’t know. I guess just the way your whole body relaxed the second you pressed play,” he replies.

“Yeah,” you say turning your head back toward the ceiling. “I know it sounds cheesy, but I feel like these songs are speaking to my soul or something,” you whisper.

“Yeah I get that… I have those too,” he whispers back. Neither of you realize it’s already 5 am and neither of you notice as your eyes both get heavy and sleep washes over you, playlist in the background like a lullaby. And at some point during your deep sleep, Rafe’s arm has found itself unconsciously wrapped around you.

---

Part 4

a/n: lemme know what you think!(: