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ratatouillewastakendammit · 4 months

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Hey!! So I’ve decided to actually start posting on this app more this Summer so I’m gonna begin with this Chrollo X Reader fic (that was written 3 years ago for AO3 during Covid so mind the not-so-good writing especially for the first few chapters) Not beta-read we die like Kurapika’s clan <3

Regrets: Chapter One

Fic warnings: here

Next chapter

Find the whole story here

Of course you were nervous.

Anyone probably would be.

Not about the problem though. You trusted him enough to understand he had everything under control.

However, if he was asking for help then it must be serious.

Anyway, it wasn't exactly the mission you were nervous about, but the person who had called you to it.

Years had gone by since you had seen Kurapika and it wasn't as if the two of you had ended things on good terms.

It hurt, walking away from each other.

Although, it couldn't be helped.

"I told you no."

"And I told you I'm not letting you get yourself killed when I can do something about it!"

That idiot wouldn't accept help from anyone, let alone you. He always wanted to do things himself, no matter how stupid that decision may be. So when he refused to let you come along and assist him after he had found the location of a certain group, you'd lost it.

Maybe he thought you were weak, or maybe he was scared for your safety, either way, that fact that he wanted to do it alone pissed you off. He was willing to put his life at risk for revenge, which you understood of course, but why couldn't you?

Kurapika was the only thing you had left. And maybe it was selfish for you wanting him to stay safe. If he died, who did you have left to live for?

"You're going to get yourself killed."

"And what happens when you same? What do I do then?"

When Kurapika's phone went silent, it felt like you were drowning. There was nothing left. You had no friends, no family. You hadn't made any allies in fear of being double crossed because of your economical value. You were skillful enough not to die, but was there really any point?

Thankfully, the information was fake and Kurapika was just sulking somewhere, but the damage had been done.

Stricken by pride and anger, you ignored him as he walked out the door, not wanting to be hurt like that again. Or maybe it was fear as well. You hadn't gotten close to anyone in between the years, after all.

That was probably it.

Fear of loving someone. And losing them.

So you had stayed away from others after watching him walk away, not wanting to experience that indescribable emptiness again. You had learned more about yourself, about nen, and how to survive. Obtaining a hunters license was quite easy, so it wasn't as if you needed a job when you could just stay in most hotels for free.

You had the potential to do great things maybe, but it was best to just stay away from others, keep a low profile.

Staying under the radar was easy, considering most people thought you were dead.

And you liked it that way.

Or, you tried to tell yourself you liked it that way.

So when Kurapika finally called you, it had been quite surprising, especially considering the years of silence in between your fight.

But how could you refuse your best friend?

XxXxX

Sunlight streamed through the thin leaves and stained windows, creating shaded shapes on the stone pavement. Birds chased each other midair, a small wind allowing them to float through the sky effortlessly. The same soft breeze lifted a piece of hair as you strolled forward towards your destination.

Looking up from the virtual map, you realized the building in front of you strongly resembled what Kurapika had described on the last call.

"You'll know when you see it. Big and silver. Lots of wealthy people will be going in and out."

A small sigh escaped your lip, each step seeming more and more like lead on your boots.

He said he would meet you in the lobby. Was he really less than twenty meters away?

An extremely small part of you wished he had walked away again, leaving a entryway filled with nothing but fake potted plants and snotty businessmen.

Unfortunately, that wasn't happening.

The moment you walked through the glass doors, your eyes hooked onto the blond head sitting on the couch. The boy was wearing his usual apparel of blue and gold, only this time a small red earring draped from his ear.

Now you were almost sure your feet were cement, completely glued to the floor.

The blond slowly turned his head, probably sensing some new presence. His eyes lit up, darkening slightly under the contacts, something only you would probably notice, and quickly rose to his feet.

"Y/n."

"Kurapika."

The name sounded a bit sour in your throat.

"Was the journey alright?"

You nodded.

"Would you like to go up to my room?"

You nodded again.

His eyes trailed your face, scouting for any sort of emotion. When he couldn't find any, he just sighed and beckoned for you to follow him into the elevator.

The ride was awful, silence stifling the air, making it almost impossible to breath. Walking down the hallway was also filled with that intoxicating quietness until Kurapika opened the door for you to pass through.

Marble floors reflected small beams of light that filtered through the shutters Kurapika had undoubtedly closed the moment he first unlocked the room.

He never was a big fan of windows.

A small smile tugged at your lips at the memory.

"But it doesn't make any sense! The natural light saves energy anyway."

"But you can't always be sure who's looking at us!"

"Why would anyone want to watch us? All we do is play games."

"Yeah, I guess you're right."

"I'm always right."

The same voice spurred you away from the thoughts, although you didn't exactly sure what it said.

"Huh?"

"You're mad at me. I don't like it." Kurapika sat down slowly on the bed, taking a second to collect his thoughts. "I just didn't want you to get hurt."

"Well, I could say the same thing, but did you listen?"

"I had to make sure they wouldn't hurt us aga-"

"And I thought you were dead!" Turning around, you glanced into the eyes of your former friend, not holding enough strength to let it be a glare. "I had to hear from someone else that you were still alive! Do you know how scared I was?"

Kurapika hung his head, something you only saw twice before. The first time was when his mother scolded him for leaving you alone outside, although nothing happened.

The second was when you had explained what occurred during the massacre.

"Why do you want to know?"

"Please."

"There's nothing you can do now!"

"I NEED TO KNOW!" Kurapika grabbed your shoulders, eyes blazing a deep scarlet. "I need to know what happened."

"Why? Why would you ever want to know?"

"I need to hurt."

...

"I need to hurt enough to kill the Phantom Troupe."

"I'm sorry."

The boy in front of you, the one once so full of life and happiness, sounded so guilty, so ashamed of himself, something that you never wanted to see.

Feet moving against any rational thought, you ran to your friend, hooking an arm around his shoulder and pulling his body into yours. At first, he stiffened in surprised at the touch, but slowly folded his hands behind you back, and pulling you close. It didn't even occur to you that the boy was crying until a tear dripped onto the top of your head, his clear, steely eyes now red and hot.

"I'm so fucking sorry."

"I know."

It was odd. You had promised only to help and leave without getting into the past again. Never wanting to feel so alone and scared again, you told yourself that you would assist in any way you could and make a quick exit without getting close to your childhood friend. You were naive to think anything remotely similar would happen like that, especially with overzealous emotions like yours.

"I'm sorry too."

"Why are you sorry?"

"Just am."

The two of you stayed in each others arms for quite a while, his tears drying on both your faces. For a moment, it almost felt like how it was all those years ago, when you were children. Kurapika holding onto you like this after a good nightmare, or once when you held your arms into his chest, just like you did now, after scraping your knee on a jagged stone.

Kurapika had then hurt himself in the same place, saying that if you had a 'cool' new wound, he wanted one too.

Of course, it wasn't hard to understand he didn't want you to be embarrassed in front of the other children about tripping over a small weed. He was also like that with you, despite being the younger one by a few years. Kurapika was your best friend, being inseparable since both of your mothers had introduced you. He knew everything about you and was part of every happy memory.

After the massacre, you thought you were alone. You felt absolutely empty. Then he emerged from the rubble, grabbed your shaking hand and dragged you away from the horrific scene.

"You shouldn't be. I'm sorry I let you down. I'm sorry I left, I was just scared."

"Me too. And I wasn't mad, I never was. Maybe I just thought if I tried acting like it, it would help with being so lonely. I kept to myself most of the time."

"Yeah." He replied. "I did the same, for the most part anyway."

"Most part?"

He nodded. "I met three of them during last years Hunter's exam. There's these two boys; they're very interesting."

"And the third?"

Pink began to slowly tinge Kurapika's cheeks as he turned away from you.

Not quickly enough, however.

"DID YOU MEET SOMEONE?"

"Don't be so loud."

"Oh shit!"

"Stop."

"You met someone!"

"I called you here for business."

You laughed, rolling you eyes and motioning for your friend to sit down. The bed shifted as the two of you sat back, facing the white hotel ceiling. You stayed like that, enjoying the silence.

It was odd how different this silence felt compared to the one in the elevator. That silence was deafening, strong enough to make you suffocate under it. This one was light, filled with peace and memories of what used to be.

It almost made you feel embarrassed, for all the years and experiences you could've had if only the fear and stubbornness had been so apparent. You were never really mad at him, the extremely quick forgiveness proved that. You trusted him with everything and maybe if you trusted his judgement back then too, you wouldn't be so emotionally detached now.

You continued to look at the ceiling, which was now illuminated by passing city lights of cars driving by through the darkness, then turned toward your side and looked at Kurapika.

"You called me here because you needed help, right? What do you need?"

Kurapika sighed and took a moment, but turned to face you nonetheless. "May we talk about it in the morning? It's getting late and I'm sure you're tired."

"If I let it go until tomorrow, will you tell me about the person you met?"

Silence.

"I'm only gonna keep asking until-"

"He wants to be a doctor..."

XxXxX

Shouting.

That was what woke you up.

And probably was what saved your life.

That was the first thing you remembered about that night, was the shouting.

The last thing you remembered were Kurapika's eyes.

Yours were wide and terrified, filled with enough sadness and pain to last a lifetime. His, however, were blazing with anger and hatred. Fire seemed to be pooling out of his irises, melting his retinas into dry tears.

The soft, kind boy you had grew up with looked like he was about to rip someone to shreds.

Those eyes, filled with pure fury, softened with relief however, when he saw you, sitting on the floor of your old childhood home.

The once happy cottage filled with the smell of cookies and the sound of laughter was now demolished, walls crumbling inward towards the living room. Pictures and tapestries were burning on the floor, edges of smiling faces beginning to char. All that was left was you, holding a body with shaking hands.

You remembered thinking she looked peaceful, maybe you could even pretend she was sleeping.

If you looked at her from the neck down, that is.

Blood flowed down her face from the hollow holes that were once home to bright eyes filled with life. The mouth that once sung you lullabies was now frozen into a horrified expression, her blood stained skin was now pale white forever. As a child, you idolized your mother, thinking she was the most beautiful woman you had ever seen.

Now, you could barely stand to look at her without the urge to vomit.

She was the one who had saved you. The nimble hands that taught you how a tie a shoelace had shoved you into that secret hole underneath the dresser so you were safe. You had begged and cried for her to stay with you, but she had simply smiled back, told you how proud she was, and planted a gentle kiss on your forehead before leaving. It was the last one you'd ever receive from her.

Kurapika slowly tugged at your shoulder, but you didn't move, petrified in the middle of this horrible nightmare. The air was hot and toxic, smoke poking at your eyes and filling your lungs.

Everything was gone.

"Come on. We have to go."

My life is over.

"Can you hear me?"

They're all dead.

He gently unhinged your fingers from the sides of your mother's face, shuddering as her head fell lifelessly onto your lap, but you still wouldn't move.

"Answer me!"

You looked up at the boy, relief spreading over your face, but it quickly faded as soon as it came. "I-I thought you were dead! Everyone... everythone is gone. They took everything."

The voice that came out seemed far away, hitching in your throat as you choked through tears.

"Who? Who did this?"

Another sob escaped your throat as you held up a singed piece of parchment.

"The Phantom Troupe."

XxXxX

"Wake up!"

You bolted upwards from a deep slumber, almost head-butting Kurapika, who thankfully dodged with ease.

"Huh?"

"You were mumbling something. I didn't know if you were having a nightmare."

"I guess so."

His eyes narrowed. "I thought you stopped having those."

"I have." You replied. "For the most part."

It had been the worst at the beginning. You had stopped eating, sleeping, even talking for weeks. The only reason you had lived was because Kurapika had forced you the bare minimum for survival. You were a walking corpse, slowly gliding through life, devoid of all emotion.

Then one day, you came to a realization.

Kurapika didn't deserve this.

After everything, the only people you had left in the world were each other and he needed you right now. So, you started eating and speaking in short sentences every once in a while. You even tried to sleep again, hoping to ease some of Kurapika's stress about you.

Then the nightmares came.

Every night was the same.

You would look up in a bathroom mirror, only to see the same bloody holes that had been pasted on the face of your entire clan. You began to panic, turning on the water and scrubbing your hands red in an attempt to wash off the blood. Then, you turned around.

But you weren't in the bathroom anymore.

Now, you were at the same spot again, your home completely destroyed and littered with the corpses of every family member and relative you had ever met. It was a exact image of that night, even the smell of burning wood and fabric seemed to make your nose twitch.

Except, something was different.

This time, Kurapika's body lay on the floor as well, eyes cut out of his skull, bruises on his neck from strangulation.

Usually, the real Kurapika would wake you up at this point from the cries and whimpers.

However, he wasn't there to help after he left.

So, the dreams continued, even if they grew further and further apart over time.

Then you learned about nen.

And they stopped.

Nen was something you had mastered surprisingly quickly. Your teacher, a kind man with glasses and dark hair named Mr. Wing, had even begun to express his concern for your learning style.

So you left again.

It was his fault for telling you what you could potentially do anyway.

In all honestly, you didn't know the difference between ten or ren or whatever else there was, but you did remember what Wing had said to you after that first lesson.

"Focus on the glass of water."

"Why?"

"Trust me. Put all your emotion into it, negative or positive, it doesn't matter."

You sighed, then began staring at the clear glass of liquid.

Memories flooded your brain as your eyes burned into the cup, images of fire and destruction playing on repeat. A small tear slipped down the side of your face when a picture of your mother blasted through your mind.

"Y/n, you can stop now."

Slowly, you refocused your eyes, which you had noticed blurred over slightly, and fixed your gaze back on the cup in disappointment.

"Nothing happened."

"I'm not so sure." Wing smiled and picked up the glass, holding his finger over the water. "If you taste it-"

The cup dropped to the floor, shattering over the wooden floor the second Wing dropped his finger in. He yelped in surprise, falling back a few steps and looking at his finger.

"Are you okay?" You jumped up and made your way over to him, attempting to avoid the broken shards of glass scattered across the floor. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to!"

Wing looked up at you, eyes growing wide before looking back down in thought. "Stay here."

He then exited the room, merely pushing the glass out of his way with his shoe, only to return with a second cup of water.

It rippled as he sat it down on the table. "Do it again." His usually calm and positive voice was now deep and stern, overtaken by curiosity.

"But you just-"

"You were thinking of painful memories, correct? Try doing the exact same thing, but with happy ones."

"I don't know if-"

"Please. Just trust me, okay?"

Nodding slowly again, you fixed your gaze on the second glass, vision blurring instantly this time. Instead of the first instance, however, you tried your best to focus on anything happy. The good memories. You and Kurapika riding emus together and playing tricks on the village leader while Pairo, another childhood friend, watched with wide eyes. Or you and your mother baking cookies on a rainy day.

Of course, a few bad one snuck their way in, but for the most part, it was strictly good.

"Alright, you can stop now."

You opened your eyes to see Wing quickly take the glass and immediately plunge his finger into the water. His eyes widened in surprise once more, glancing back and forth between the glass and you.

"Incredible." He finally breathed.

"What? Did I do something wrong?" You asked in worry.

"No. No, nothing like that! I've just never seen something like this before."

"Oh... well is it bad?"

Wing stopped at your question and began thinking again for a moment before replying. "It could be. Possibly. But incredible nonetheless. Y/n, do you know what happened to me when I touched that water?"

He began pacing around the room while you shook your head.

"The first time. I expected that maybe you were a transmuter, but I didn't even have to taste it to see I was wrong. Every emotion you focused on in those five seconds of concentration I felt! Every bit of fear and pain and worry and I just had to dip my finger a centimeter in that water."

"I'm sorry, but I don't understand." His explanation about feeling your fear and pain made you shift uncomfortably on the couch in his apartment.

"And then the second time. Happiness. With bits of pain as well, but mainly happiness." The man stopped pacing and turned towards you.

"And what does that mean, sir?"

"I'm most led to believe you're a Transmuter, however you also possess some Manipulator abilities, which are quite rare." The man took another breath. "Normal nen, like everyone else's, is fueled by emotions, Y/n. However, your emotions are the center of it."

"And that means..."

"Usually, nen users develop some sort of special ability. However, yours seem to already be starting, even in the grouping process, maybe due to the strong nature of your emotions. Your emotions are your nen, something extremely powerful since emotions usually just fuel it. Your feelings are your special ability and with something like that...

The possibilities could be endless."

But you had left.

Maybe it was also because Wing began to catch onto why you were so enamored with learning new abilities.

With the power you received, came many amazing things. You began to control the emotions of others, therefore influencing their behavior and personality. Sometimes, with enough concentration and right wording, your abilities could be considered borderline mind control.

For example, if you wanted someone to hurt another, you were able to send an immeasurable amount of anger to person one directed towards person two.

Another strategy was using seduction.

By filling an individual with love or lust directed at you then simply giving a demand, they usually followed you every word.

"Doing that would make me so happy. And you want me to be happy, right? Don't you care about me?"

There were multiple other ways to use emotion to achieve power over people, some more effective than others, especially since each individual had difference strengths or weaknesses. Your power was very useful nonetheless.

However, as with any ability, it did have its setbacks.

Controlling an advanced nen user meant more energy taken out, meaning you could deplete your powers pretty quickly. Usually, you let out some sort of sound, which was a low hum or verbal order more often than not. This allowed ground yourself and command someone while still focusing stamina into the actual nen itself. Sometimes, if you tried too hard, you would just zone out and begin fading into whatever memory was sparking the wanted emotion. The louder the sound translates to more control over yourself and your own strength.

#hunter x hunter #chrollo lucifer x reader #chrollo x reader #chrollo lucilfer #hxh x reader #hxh

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m-aster-of-spinjitzu · 3 years

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orange and gold

...I just need more Cole and Vania content, they seem like they'd be great friends.

Basically it's just 'Cole goes to visit her there, they almost burn down the kitchen, and make way too many puns', lol.

Set a few months after Master of the Mountain, but before Seabound or The Island.

Also yeah, I couldn't think of a better title, sue me- I just know that they wear one of the colours at some point, so... 🤦‍♀️😂

Trigger warnings: none I think? Huh-

Also, bingo!! I really need to learn better time management, dear freaking gosh- I hope I'm not too late though? I know it's like half a day late, eek- and I was supposed to post this earlier, but I ended up literally falling asleep while writing it😂

Thank you so much Fabro, for hosting such a cool event!:D Your comments on my fics literally never fail to make my day<3. And I'm so glad that I met so many awesome, really skilled people through this event too - it's been a lot of fun working alongside y'all:D, I wish I'd had more time to interact instead of posting stuff and vanishing lol, but exams be like:////

Prompt: cooking (does baking count as cooking? I realized too late lol-) from @ninjago-bingo 's warm board.

Word Count: 2497

---

Trying to escape from killer dire-bats hadn't been on Cole's to do list today - although the mountains were kind of beautiful.

It was a bit difficult to see them while he was being dragged to his death, but hey, didn't Jay always tell them to be more positive?

That was, until he made the mistake of looking down.

Miles of snowcapped mountains touched the pastel blue sky, but he was more focused on exactly how high he was from the ground.

Great.

Trying to swing back onto the Bounty, he didn't notice a golden-winged blur shoot past the bat, almost dropping their spear in haste.

"Let my friend go, or I'll-"

"Vania?"

She throws the spear at the bird, successfully knocking one of its wings.

Huh. She must've been practicing - throwing with accuracy while flying seemed kinda difficult.

"I'm so sorry!" she replies, grabbing his arm before he fell down too. She winces at the strain on her wings, almost dropping him onto the deck. "I was supposed to come earlier, but there was an issue with one of the mines, and it took forever to-"

"There ain't anything in this world that's managed to kill me yet," he replies jokingly, checking that the autopilot hadn't been damaged. "I doubt an angry bird is going to be the first."

"Didn't you mention that you became a ghost once? Pretty sure that means you were dead-"

"Shh, that's not an important detail," he jokes.

"If you say so," she replies with a grin. "Did I mention that Chompy's been tearing down the palace flower arrangements again?"

"Send my regards to the gardener-"

"Did you just make a pun?"

"Remind me why I decided to visit you again?"

"Because you love me?" she asks stepping onto the ground as the Bounty landed gently.

"I hereby crown you as my platonic soulmate," Cole deadpans, taking her hand. "Vania and Cole-"

"Destined to annoy each other for eternity," she giggles, swinging their hands up and down. "But seriously - thanks. I don't think I realized how much work being a queen was."

"What's it like?"

"I mean - I'm glad that people trust me, and they come to me if they have a problem, but the paperwork is a nightmare. I never get to go outside anymore, I swear."

"Paperwork? Also, you just invited me here for a week. I don't wanna disturb you?"

"Nah, I cleared my schedule, don't worry. And trust me, you don't want to know. Everything requires some sort of official written thing, and it's so boring-"

"Official? But you're the queen?"

"Well, yeah, but I don't really want to change something unless it benefits the people. Not after..."

Her smile dims, eyes straying to the palace walls.

Oh- oh.

"You're nothing like him," Cole says firmly, squeezing her hand. "I mean, if you need to take a break, or you can make your job a bit easier by cutting out something unnecessary, that's just gonna help you become a better queen. You've definitely got the interests of your people at heart, and that's the most important thing, you know? And well, uh, everything seems to be going great so far - you don't have to beat yourself up over someone else's mistakes."

"Thanks," she replies softly, her smile slowly returning. "Speaking of breaks, what do you think we should do this time?"

"You could show me around the city again?"

"You've already seen everything cool," Vania giggles, skipping ahead of him. "We don't renovate much - unlike you guys-"

"Hey, it's not our fault that our city gets destroyed every few months-"

"More like every few days," she teases, tying back her golden hair. "How about we find some dragons to adopt?"

"Tempting, but where would you keep them?"

"They could sleep in my room-"

She breaks off when she notices him laughing. "What?"

"N- nothing," Cole replies, in between laughs. "Jay and I just made a bet."

"On what?"

"How many dragons you've adopted. I bet at least six, he bet fifteen."

"Well, jokes on both of you - I'm pretty sure my advisor's going to throw a fit if I show up with another one," she starts, giggling. "We've got twenty living in the palace right now."

"Twenty dragons?"

"They're so cute! You just look into their adorable little eyes," Vania pauses for breath, continuing her animated gesturing, "and you can't help but wanna hug them!"

"Oh, Jay's going to be so mad."

"Aww, I'm sorry guys. They're just too adorable!"

"...Wanna hear a funny story?"

"Yeah, sure!"

"I actually used to be terrified of dragons-"

"No way!" Vania exclaims. "Y'all have been on a lot of adventures though, so-"

"Nah, we used to have our own dragons at first. They were pretty cool! I just- I'm a simple guy! Huge animals with wings are scary up close when you're barely a teenager."

"Or when you're really short-"

"We're the same height!" Cole exclaims, facepalming in a bit of a fondly exasperated way.

"I'm two years younger than you-"

---

"Ugh, whose idea was this?"

"Yours," Vania grins, sitting down on the kitchen counter.

"You were supposed to help me, not leave me high and dry!" Cole accuses jokingly, staring at all the appliances they'd found in the cupboards.

"'One must always be prepared for new adventures,'" she quotes seamlessly, waving one of- what was his name again? Mulch something? Oh! Clutch! Some explorer he was, leaving them to die in the pyramid - Clutch Powers' books in the air.

"Fine," he sighs, staring at the old recipe book she'd found in one of their back cupboards. "But you've gotta help me? I almost burned down-" "Woah, what? If you finish that sentence with 'kitchen'-" "In my defense, Kai was playing a prank on me-" "In my defense, I wouldn't like to explain how the queen of Shintaro burnt down the palace by teaching one of her friends to cook," she grins, flipping through the pages. "What do you wanna start with?" "Something simple?" "Have you ever tried baking bread before? It's a lot of fun!" "I haven't really had the time, but that sounds kinda interesting."

He skims the recipe, raising his eyebrows. "Wait, why does this take hours? I thought you said it was simple?"

"Trust me, it is," she laughs, adding, "besides, I still wanna hear about all your adventures!" "Uh... okay," Cole replies hesitantly, "but if this fails, I'm so sorry." "Give yourself some credit, you guys literally saved the world! Multiple times!" "Bold of y'all to assume we know how we did it," he laughs, only half-kidding. "Besides. I botched soup once."

"I've botched toast," she mock-sighs, smiling. "Pretty sure that makes us even."

"Lemme get this straight. You've messed up toasting bread, but you can bake it from scratch?"

"Trust me, I don't know either," she giggles, trying to open a brightly coloured packet of... something? Did flour come in packets that small?

"Uh, why are you opening something called 'feast'?" he asks, eyebrows creased in confusion.

"Feast," she echoes, trying to stifle her laughter. "Off to a... rocky start, aren't we?"

It took him a second.

"I already regret this," he jokes, facepalming. "But I'd say that your puns are, uh, gold."

"I've un- unleashed-" breaking off, she half-falls off the counter, laughing so hard her face starts to go red, "a monster."

---

"Uh, is it supposed to look like that?" Cole asks, frowning.

The mixture looked less like the dough he'd been expecting - more like one of Jay's inventions gone wrong.

Badly wrong, he thought, eyes widening at the goopy mess of foam that threatened to spill over the jug.

"The yeast?" Vania echoes, poking her head out of one of the cupboards. "Yeah, all good! It always looks a little gross, and you're gonna doubt ever eating bread again, but at least it doesn't taste like it's fermented-"

"It's what?"

"Yeah," she grimaces, exaggerating her disgust a bit. "If aliens ever fell from the sky, they'd think we were crazy for eating bread-"

"Aliens? I think we're a bit crazy!" Cole exclaims, trying not to laugh.

Vania smiles, then sighs, lugging a huge bag of flour onto the counter. "I can never open these bags properly," she starts, eyeing the the bag a bit warily, "and it always makes such a huge mess all over the kitchen. You'd think they'd make it easier for people to use, right? I swear-"

He jokingly puts his hands over his ears. "I can't hear you!" "But you know that I've sworn off swearing-" she replies, breaking off with a laugh. "Pun not intended - that actually made sense in my head. I swear!"

"No," Cole interjects with a grin, shaking his head. "You don't, remember?"

"See, this is why we're friends-"

"Friends? Is that all I am to you?"

"Oh, be quiet," she shoots back, exaggeratedly dragging a hand down her face. "I mean, sure, just because everyone thinks that we're dating doesn't mean that we-"

Wait. What?

"People think that we're dating?" he asks, clamping a hand over his mouth in a poor attempt to muffle his laughter. "I- I- really?"

"I know, right?"

"Even my friends thought so at first," he confesses, dragging a hand down his face. "I mean, as much as I love you-"

"I love you too," Vania replies, completely seriously. "Even if you'll always be more like an annoying-"

"Hey-"

"Sibling to me than anything else," she finishes, grabbing a pair of scissors. Cole watches, a little alarmed, as she stabs them into the flour bag over and over.

"Is it... supposed to be this difficult to just open the bag? Seems kinda stupid-"

"Well, er, they have this piece of paper with glue that you're supposed to pull away from the rest of the bag, but it never works properly and I-"

"Well, we could always make our own flour," Cole interjects, laughing. "I mean, I've got a scythe? Let's go!"

"Uh, but we don't have wheat growing here. I don't think it'd suit the climate very well?"

"Wheat a shame," Cole sighs jokingly, measuring out the flour (which had, finally, escaped the bag).

"Oh my gosh," Vania deadpans, "you did not just-"

"Yep, I did."

"You're horrible," she giggles, "then again, I was the one who started this whole debacle, so I think we'll share the blame."

"Debacle? Where'd you pick that one up from? Sounds kinda cool-"

"Oh, it's from a book someone wrote about you guys," Vania says casually, pouring a cup of water into the bowl.

"Hey, uh-" Cole starts hesitantly, twisting his fingers back and forth, then breaks off. "Why'd you read all that stuff about us, anyways? Adventure books don't really seem like something you read a lot, since we have similar favorite books. I mean..."

"Well, um..." Vania trails off, clearly uncomfortable. "Uh- I guess, well, it sounds kinda stupid, but I'd never really met anyone my age who wasn't a royal or something. I... er, I didn't want to be left out, you know?"

Cole thinks back to a scroll; a quest, a sacrifice. One that his friends never seemed to really notice, unless it was with horror or flinches. Not that he blamed them, but - joking about how he was much more useful to the team when he was freaking dead than he was before he'd stumbled and fell in the temple?

That had been a bit far, even for his best friend. Locks could always be picked or something, he didn't need to be a ghost to provide some sort of value-

Well, that's not completely true, is it? a small voice questions, and he can't keep his hands from shaking a little.

"Jay here thinks you're the least valuable ninja."

Not enough to be a performer. Now, not good enough to even be a ninja, apparently.

Well, he reminds himself firmly, you don't have to be the best - just stand up to those who are cruel and unjust.

Nothing but a scar that glowed warm orange occasionally left of the whole Cursed Realm ordeal, sometimes it was all too easy to forget - or pretend - that it had never even happened in the first place.

Other times, like when he'd dropped a glass of water on the floor and his hands hadn't stopped shaking for hours, or when he woke up screaming, expecting to fall through his bed again, it still felt like he was trapped as a ghost. Literally - and maybe a little figuratively as well.

Yeah. Yeah, I know.

"Thanks for trusting me with that," he replies softly. "And I'm sorry. That sounds... horrible, but, honestly, you're a pretty cool person, and I ain't just saying that because we're friends. People can be awful, and they can- they can leave, but you don't need to pretend to be someone you're not for people to accept you. I kinda know what it's like, and it's... just, uh, not great."

"No, thank you," Vania says, rubbing her eyes. "You're pretty cool, too. And I'm glad that we become friends, even if wasn't in the- the, er, greatest circumstances."

"Right back at ya. The fall was pretty terrifying, though," Cole says casually, as if memories of that nightmarish plunge into the depths of earth don't still send shivers down his spine.

"No, definitely! I was so sure we were gonna splat onto the ground or something, thank gosh we didn't."

"Yeah..." Cole trails off, reading the recipe they'd been following. "Oh- do we just leave the bowl somewhere for a few hours now?"

"Oh, yeah," Vania answers. "Other than clean up the kitchen, what else do you wanna do?"

"That's kind of you, but, ah, I don't mind. You can choose something."

"I don't mind either," she replies, covering the bowl with a dishcloth. "Seriously, I don't."

"Same here though."

"Really, I don't mind-" Vania breaks off with a laugh, adding, "Well, actually, there is something."

She doesn't elaborate, thoughtfully gazing out the window.

"Well, what is it? Don't keep me in the dark."

"Ugh, it's kinda stupid-"

"I'm sure that it's not- well, unless you want to try to jump off a flying ship with a homemade parachute to prove a bet to someone-"

"Do I even wanna know?"

"...uh, probably not. We're way too crazy sometimes, our Master has a hard time keeping us in check. Your thing, though?"

"Can I give you a hug?"

Cole blinks for a second, expecting some sort of punchline.

"That's your thing?"

"Well, yeah- I mean, I said it was kinda stupid-"

"No no, that's not what I meant. You're so sweet - that's all."

"Well, not more than you-"

"Nah, you're sweeter-"

"Let's just call it a tie," Vania says with a smile, reaching over to give her friend a hug. "Thank you so much, I swear- well, no, I don't, but you know, anyways-"

"Yeah," Cole replies, laughing softly. "I know."

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everyhowlmarksthedead · 4 years

Text

❛ I'M GONNA PROTECT YOU ❜

with Angel Reyes, and reader as Che ‘Taza’ Romero' daughter.

Request: Oooh Could it be where you are a younger sibling to one of the guys or a daughter to either the older three? And you and Angel are somewhat good friends? Well one day you are alone at your house and you hear a noise outside and it freaks you out so you grab your gun and call your brother/dad and they are busy at the moment but they send Angel to check it out and he comes and turns out it's someone trying to break in. Anyway the guy runs away and it ends in some Smut? Then your relative comes!

BY @firebenderwolf

Warnings: brief violence described, I think.

Word count: about 1.8k

Aurora says: I wrote it listening a cover of ‘La Llorona’, by Natalia Doco, so I recommend you to listen this song while you read it. This writing hasn't been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I'm sorry about that!

Gif credits: @angels-reyes

Masterlist.

You can subscribe to my broadcast list, to be notified whenever I post a writing!

The barks coming from the open field, next to the barns, suddenly wakes you up. Your dogs never barks in the middle of the night. You don't give them much importance, lying back on bed again, until they start to howl. Getting up and sticking your head closer to the window, you find some big figures cutting part of the wire fence with a pair of shears. Grabbing your phone, you call your father while leading your feet to his room, to grab the gun under his pillow. A nine millimeters semi automatic, enough to chase them away. Taking off the safety and raising your arms to the high of your eyes, you hang up the call. Probably, Taza will be at Vicki's house getting drunk with Bishop and Tranq, so you type Angel's number by heart. Going downstairs, your eyes looking straight forward, trying to make the least noise possible while you hear the howls and barks getting louder.

“Angel, there's two guys trying to come into my house, and my dad doesn't answer”.

“I'm going, mami. Hide and don' fuckin' move”.

The adrenaline was running through your body, and until you listened to his voice, you didn't notice that you were actually terrified. Gulping, you just hope that they don't hurt your animals. Keeping your phone muttered in a pocket, you hold the gun with both hands. The logic act would be calling the cops, but that is not an option for someone like you, nor your father. Crossing the huge and open living room, you decide to hide yourself into a wardrobe behind a folding screen that your great-grandfather made with his own hands.

Your heart races jumping inside your chest when you are able to hear their voices. Mexicans with a terrible american accent. Sticking your left ear to the door, you try to glimpse if you know them. And it is possible. Biting your bottom lip really nervous, you begin to text your father telling him what's happening, until your body shakes violently when a lot of small glasses fall to the floor after a heavy racket. The thieves are now entering into your house. And actually, they're not going to find anything. Your father is too intelligent to keep his money and valuables belongings inside there. But you're actually terrified because, yes, you know how to fire a gun; but you have never done it to defend yourself. And the only thing you can do right now is to wait. Your father is also coming with the older part of the crew after reading your text messages.

The barks outside don't cease, but your dogs are locked taking care of the animals, and you prefer it. You don't want them to get hurt. And the different noises of more glasses crashing, and different pieces of furniture falling to the floor are turning you anxious. The tears filling up your eyes and your shaky breathing don't help to stay calmed. Resting your back against the wall, with the gun raised to the door, you think that you are ready to fire it as soon as someone opens it.

Gulping a bunch of saliva, when you stop to hear them whispering curses in spanish after some minutes, the heavy steps upstairs call your attention; as the continues buzz of an engine getting closer to the ranch, speeding up in the moment it crosses the main fence. In complete silence, you step out from the wardrobe, with your trembling fingers securing the weapon between them. Checking that there's no one around you, your feet run to the main door to open it. Angel is already there. Without taking off the helmet, the man passes you away with his own gun lifted up in front of his dark eyes. Following him to the stairs, each other take up a side of the wall, waiting for them to go downstairs. The first one appears asking the other to leave, after not finding anything, but before he can warn his sidekick, Angel is already pointing at him, making him a sign to stay silent.

“Mario, where are you?” You hear from the top.

Taking off the gun from the thief's hands, you leave it over the table. But making a false move, the mexican manages to punch Angel, starting to wrestle with him.

“RUN, ANTONIO! MAYA—MAYANS ARE HERE!”

Your mind goes blank by the shock of seeing him fighting, and the weapon sliding itself over the floor, in the meantime the other man runs away jumping through a window and using the bindweeds around the house as stairs. Watching how the other tries to beat the oldest Reyes, you point at them with trembling hands.

“Leave him, pend—”.

Because of the nerves running through your veins, your forefinger presses the trigger shooting the thief by his back. A painful grunt floods the living room. Angel pushes him away, while the mexican writhes between tears and growls. Grabbing the gun from your hands, to not fire anyone else, your friend places an arm over your shoulders to turn you, giving your back to the thief. At the moment he tries to fight again, almost standing up, Angel shoots him again. Twice. Straight to the chest. Clinged to his body, you can't help but break into cries, hiding your face in his neck.

“Look at me… Look at me. Are you okay? Are you hurt?” He mumbles, leaving away the weapon, so he can cup your cheek in his hands.

You just nod swallowing, feeling his lips pressed on your forehead, before stretching an arm to the wall to turn on the lights.

“Com'ere, baby”. He says, urging you to slightly jump into him, wrapping your legs around his waist.

Your tears wet the franel shirt he's wearing inconsolably, leading his steps to the kitchen, away from the dead body staining the floor with the blood gushing out of it. Helping you to sit over the island in the middle of the place, Angel hurries up to bring you a glass of water, not knowing how to calm you down more than with leaving some caresses in your hair. You try to swallow but your throat is hermetically closed, coughing some times, while the salty tears keep flowing onto your lips.

“Did I… Did I ki—killed him?”

“No, no, no”. He says, putting the ringed fingers by both sides of your face, affected deeply by the look of horror in your orbs. “I did it, okay? You hear me? I did it”.

You know him from seven years ago, having a special connection from the beginning. You have been through a lot of shit together, but you never expected something like that happening. Putting the glass away from your trembling fingers, Angel holds you against his body, tightly hugging you, trying to make you feel somewhat better while the crew come to the ranch.

“Please… Stop crying… It's okay”. He mutters with a broken voice, not used to feel you so terrified. “I'm here, baby… I'm gonna protect you”.

“I'm sor—sorry, Angel”.

“Don' be silly. You don' have to be sorry 'bout nothing”. He chuckles softly, leaving a kiss on your right cheek. “Am your superhero, remember?”

The Reyes finally breathes when he hears you laughing with a low, low tone.

“I would never let anyone hurt you”. Sticking his forehead on yours, he closes his eyes for a second, feeling how your fingers get intertwined in his shirt.

You just nod, trying to catch back your breath, almost drinking his. The strokes by his thumbs over your skin helps to maintain a calmed pulse, beating your heart with a low pace; only focused on his touches. Your mind plays a dirt trick on you, making you lean forward some inches until his lips are being pressed by yours. But Angel isn't surprised, and doesn't have any intention to pull himself away, strengthening his fingers on your neck. Your mouths look like two pieces from a puzzle, destined to fit perfectly. Settling himself between your legs to be closer, your hands travel to the back of his head, as your lips start to move softly, tasting every single inch of his. Sliding his tongue inside your mouth to find yours, you can't help but feel a mix of feelings about it. Now you are confused about the fact that you don't know if you're doing it because of the horror lived, or because you really wanted to do it since long ago.

Running out of air, Angel continues kissing your cheek up to your temple with short and gentle gestures, clinging his arms around your body. You have never felt so serene, even if there's a dead body in the middle of your living room and the buzz of some engines are getting louder. He is warm, and seems like he smells better than never, resting your face on his chest with closed eyes. Angel's heart beat is like a hypnotic melody that could make you fall asleep just like that, as if you two were completely alone and you haven't been about to kill a man, for the first time, some minutes ago.

“BAB—HOLY SHIT! BABY! BABY, WHERE ARE YOU?”

As soon as Angel pulls away himself from you, your legs jump down to the floor, running to the place where your father's voice comes from. Your body collides with his surrounding him, breaking in crying again when you feel him finally holding you. Bishop, Tranq and Riz are also there, examining the man lying on the floor with no breath of life in him.

“¿Estás bien? ¿Estás herida, mi amor?” (Are you okay? Are you hurt?) Taza is desperate, looking at you with reddened eyes as you nod in silence. “What happened?”

“There were two men. This… son of a bitch's name is Mario. The other ran away by a window. Antonio, I think he said”. Angel explains under the gaze from his brothers. “Man… they knew where they were getting into”.

“Why?” Bishop asks.

“They knew we are Mayans”. Angel shakes his head slightly, rubbing his forehead with two fingers. “And they were mexicans”.

“I think I know him”. Tranq is squatted close to the dead body, narrowing his eyes as he studies his face. “Vatos or Coyotes, I am not sure, Bishop”.

“Figure it out and put in on the table”. Taza demands with the rage consuming him, hugging you tightly under his arms.

“Let's go”. Bishop moves his head to the main door, making the others know that they must go. “Angel, calls the guys. Take care of the trash”.

“Come here, mi vida”. Your father whispers carrying you into his arms upstairs, not wanting you to continue there. “We're going to take some clothes and leave to the club, okay?”

✨ Tag list:

@starrynite7114 @chibsytelford @dazzledamazon @mara-mpou @sammskellington @gemini0410 @1-800-imagines @briana-mishell24 @sassymox @aquamento @sadeyesgf @viviansafizada @samcrobae @jade770 @witchy-wish @rebel-without-cause-x @xx--day-dreamer--xx @spiced-reads @tita127 @ifoundmyhappythought @enamouravecleslivresetlechocolat @angelxshiba @destynelseclipsa @sheeshgivemeabreak @abbiesthings @knowles-morgan @lady-pswrld @minnicelli @marquelapage @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @jadesamhart @mycupoffanfiction @claytoncardenasbabymama @thesandbeneathmytoes @phoenixhalliwell @thewarriorprincessxo @sugary-x-sweet @multiyfandomgirl40 @imanerdychubbyqueen @iambabyharry @firebenderwolf @itsanofrommesir @noz4a2 @peaches007 @edonaspanca @irenne-stans @skyofficialxx @that-chick212

#mayans mc x reader #mayans mc #mayans mc imagine #mayans x reader #angel reyes x reader #angel reyes fanfiction #angel reyes imagine #angel reyes

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anextraordinarymuse · 3 years

Text

I'm just gonna go ahead and make a new post to respond to your points Katie (@jonesgirl88) so that we're not constantly reblogging and trying to load all of those gifs.

Jump to the DLO dance: there is a war going on in Oliver's head and the fact Eric can act that so we can see it? Brilliant. Chef's kiss. He's so torn and you can feel it and your heart breaks for both of them. He's holding her hand to his heart but Shane is also physically on his right side. Her chin is nearly resting on his right shoulder and he's pulled her close to his right side. What say you?

I noticed this too, of course. But first - Eric and Kristin deserve awards. All of the awards. They act beautifully, and they play off of each other so well - they're wonderful scene partners. Okay anyway. Yes, Shane is physically on his right side and has many points of contact along that side (like you said, her chin is nearly on his shoulder) but I pointed out their hands specifically because they are originally positioned away from their bodies. Shane and Oliver's physical closeness is a given in this moment because dancing is intimate. It requires that a lot of you be in contact with a lot of your partner. But originally Oliver and Shane's hands are extended away from them until Oliver pointedly draws them in and places Shane's hand over his heart. This movement is unnecessary in the context of ... well, anything. It's a purely instinctive and intimate move. He could have simply let go of her hand, or drawn it closer and then held it in some other position, but no: he pulls it right in against him. That's why I included it. I'm sure that it was included in the blocking and written in to the script because we're meant to notice it.

I could write for days about that DLO dance scene. THE. FREAKING. CHEMISTRY. I blush ridiculously easily (seriously it's A Problem and I hate it) and I would have been crimson that whole time if I were Kristin. The Tenderness. The Tension. The way his eyes dart back and forth right before he lets her go because he's so at war with himself: kiss her or let her go? O.Y.E.

They're standing in a line (because they're being given awards) but he's turning towards her and she's turning towards him. I just...I can't with these two.

This is totally A Thing©. Shane and Oliver both have a tendency to turn in toward each other like that - but especially Shane. It's an unconscious attempt to take refuge in Oliver and his strength, I think. She often does it in times when she's seeking comfort and closeness/affection. That moment where Shane is sleeping on Oliver's shoulder is one my favorite moments of it, but there's another one that's a small moment (that apparently was either filmed in a longer moment and cut, or aired as a longer moment/actual hug in one of the international versions).

Right before the scene fades into the next one we see Shane turn herself even more into Oliver's left side and tuck her head, as if she's going to bury her face in his shoulder. I wish we'd been gifted with more of this moment! Look at the way she tucks her arm into him and tips her head - she even kind of pushes her hip into his side. I just love this moment a lot.

1) Shane is shown to be freaking out when closed in the vault. Her fear seems to trigger at odd times? She's fine when she learned there's 13 hours of air; she's fine when she learns there's actually less than 5 hours of air; she's fine when she's bored and wants to play a game; but Katherine might be dead so she freaks out? I get it, she believes their fate to be tied together but then why wasn't she more fearful before they started reading the letters? It just doesn't make a lot of sense.

I think for a large part of this Shane was doing a good job of distracting herself and focusing on something else. But reading the letters made them both emotional: they connected with something poignant in those letters. They're reading about two people who fall in love despite their circumstances and share something beautiful even if it's only words - and then find out at the end that these two people may not have actually been able to be together. Not only does that mirror their situation, but all of a sudden it seems like they might never have the chance to be together either (to Shane) because, oh yeah, they're also in danger of not breathing anymore - and I think that just brought her fear to the surface. Also, it's a small moment, but Shane wasn't too thrilled about having to go into the vault at all. When she first sees it she hesitates and says "in there?" like she'd rather not go anywhere near it. I always took it as a small nod to the fact that Shane might not have a love of small spaces. We've never seen it mentioned again though, so who knows.

I know it's part of the story but he literally just wrote he's willing to give things with Holly another chance but then spends his time thinking of Shane when reading the letters.

Yes! And I have always taken this as another indication that, at this point, Oliver is saying what he feels he should have said long ago. He's making the effort he feels duty bound to make. I mean, I think part of him does want to put in the effort - but that part is his head. His rational mind, and probably his memories of Holly and his affection for her, and the importance he puts on his marriage vows. This is another reason why I truly don't think his heart is with Holly anymore, or in his marriage. AT NO POINT after he writes that letter and tucks it away does he think of Holly. He's reading powerful, moving love letters between two people and the only person he thinks about is Shane? And - we don't find this out until later, but still - the letter he does write to Holly isn't that romantic. He promises to try to see her dreams through her eyes, and says that he's willing to change, but there's nothing about how much he loves her or how her absence has affected his heart or his life. Maybe because Oliver didn't really believe when he was writing it that he was in danger? I don't know. But it's interesting.

That hand grab!! ... And then the way she looks at him as he sings along at the end when Rita wins?? I can't with this man. I can't with this woman.

Um, yes. Shane takes Oliver's hand and he just ... short circuits. It's hilarious. And they're so smitten with each other it's ridiculous.

And in that hospital scene, Oliver absolutely would have let anyone sleep on his shoulder like that. But it wasn't anyone: it was Shane, and it was Shane after all of the emotional intimacy they shared in The Treasure Box; and, once again, it was Shane turned into his side like Oliver offered to let her lay her head there, or she knew what she was doing when she did, because she's not facing forward in the chair with her head to one side like she just accidentally fell asleep and then her head sort of slid to one side. She's angled her body into his. Her feet are pointing toward him. Her hand is just under/next to his arm. How did they get to that moment? I NEED TO KNOW.

(I always understood Jordan to just be an angel. Definitely open to interpretation though.)

OLIVER IS THE ANSWER TO HER LETTER. His words, his faith, his person is the answer to Shane's childhood prayer she never forgot. He opens the wound but it's destined he's the one to help her heal.

Oliver is the embodiment of Shane's hope. Jordan couldn't answer her letter because it had to be Oliver, which he realized. And before he leaves the chapel he says to Oliver "take good care of that little letter writer." HE'S TALKING ABOUT SHANE. In the Impossible Dream, Shane tells Oliver that he's given her something she'll never forget: "a little hope for this world." Oliver. Is. Shane's. Hope. Oh my gosh! She's his heart, he's her hope. How tooth-rottingly, disgustingly sweet. I love it.

Extra point: Kristin can rock a leather skirt...like hot damn woman.

A) she always looks so good, but yes, this leather skirt and periwinkle/lavender top is one of my favorite looks on her, and B) I love her fashion and style and aspire to be that fashionable one day.

Holly and Oliver try to have a conversation with words and they fail.

This literally just occurred to me: Holly herself points out that she and Oliver suck at having actual conversations. Physically they click, so they obviously had a lot of chemistry, but they struggle to just talk to one another. Juxtapose that with Shane, who literally understands Oliver so well and on such a deep level that she not only understands him when no one else does, she can actively translate him. The reunion in HG instantly comes to mind here. She translates in real time for the audience what Oliver means ("And I might be the only person on Earth who understands what you just said!") But she also translates what he says for their waitress in OIAM ("Oh, he just means that people weren't having their booshes (or however you spell that) amused in the 20th century.")

In the Pilot and The Masterpiece, things get McSteamy so quickly but it never starts out that way ... He's trying for the sake of his marriage one last time but his head and heart aren't in it.

Exactly! The pull between him and Shane is magnetic. It's natural and impossible to ignore. This is why I maintain that even if Holly had changed her mind and asked to work on their relationship it never would have worked. Oliver was in love with Shane by this point even if he wouldn't say it or wasn't ready to acknowledge it (although Jordan played a part in making Oliver more aware of this truth. Hard to ignore when a freaking angel points out to you how important someone is to you.)

To Holly, kissing Oliver is akin to breaking promises to herself ... To Shane, kissing Oliver is akin to keeping promises.

Well, you just blew my mind. This is so true! Holly tells us that the only way she could see to live her dream was to stop kissing Oliver (insinuating that it was also to leave him behind); Shane's dream seems to just be ... Oliver. Sharing a life with him; delivering dead letters with him; loving him.

BRB, sobbing over this stupid show and these idiots in love.

I do think that Holly and Oliver parted amicably. I can't decide if I think that Holly asked about Shane, or if she made a comment about her (directly or indirectly). I kind of feel like Holly was more the type to make a comment than ask a question.

I am dying over the logistics of Oliver actually buying that porch swing. Well dressed Oliver scouring the aisles of Walmart at like midnight for the perfect porch swing while surrounded by a bunch of people in their pajamas and college kids on middle of the night snack runs because they're marathoning TV shows instead of studying? Hilarious. Headcanon accepted.

Back to the topic at hand...I do think some of the left/right stuff is purely ease of blocking

As do I. I'm definitely reading more into it than I'm meant to at some points, there's just SO MUCH of it and it's so fun to contemplate that I went for it.

THE HUG IN TRUTH BE TOLD.

hahahahahahaaa ... the way that Shane literally just drops everything and wraps her arms around him slays me. The stunned little pause where Oliver's arms are just up in the air for a second, as if he's somehow surprised at the force of her hug despite having watched her move toward him, and then he tentatively puts his arms on her back and then ... he holds her a little tighter. Ugh. UGH. I DIE.

CAN WE TALK ABOUT OLIVER IN FLANNEL WITH THE SLEEVES ROLLED UP??

Yes. A million times, yes. Oliver with his sleeves rolled up? Outstanding. Oliver in flannel? An absolute vision. Oliver in flannel with his sleeves rolled up? I C A N N O T.

There will be more. I need to make the gifs, but there's going to be a part 4. And probably 5. In fact, I think this is just going to become a series of Things I Need To Scream About™ with supporting gif evidence.

I'll try to break it up though, so there's just ShOliver stuff, just Shane stuff, and just Oliver stuff. And then all Postables stuff because they're the cutest little Postal family ever.

#oliver x shane #shane x oliver #sholiver #Jess' thoughts #look at us bringing life to these tags lol #in my head it's just you and me in this little room freaking out together about these idiots Katie #like every once in a while someone opens the door and it's just us #squealing at each other and flailing #and whoever it is just closes the door and backs away quietly like #nope not going in there

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delirious-comfort · 4 years

Note

I promise you I wouldn't go 0 to 100 with you with those kinds of questions. Weirder than that? I'm starting to grow concerned for you if you draw in such.. colorful personalities like that.

You sound like a terrible influence, and I fully support that (because, same).

Oh gosh. I'm sorry you were bullied. Kids/teenagers can be brutal. I always thank my lucky stars that I went to schools with nicer kids. I was later told no one would ever mess with me because I looked like I knew how to fight - which I attribute to my rbf. I obviously don't know you all that well personally, but you seem perfectly delightful to me so it's hard to picture you being a handful.

Howard the Duck! I think I hated it as a kid. My dad really wasn't careful with the movies he rented for me. My sister didn't tell me it was awful, so I never added The Meg to my list.

Hmm, can't relate. I'm not that into muscles, so The Rock isn't my cup of tea, and I do fancy the gents as well (though not as much as the ladies, despite what my dating history would suggest). Watch a movie that prominently features a pretty lady (that kicks ass), and the identity crisis may be averted for a while. Sorry to hear that. Is there a way to put some happiness back in you?

Music. Oh jeez. I could rattle off what I like all day, but I'll refrain. Some of my favorites: St. Vincent, Sevdaliza, Allie X, Lisa Hannigan, Beirut, James Blake, Chet Faker, Leon Bridges. And so on.. What about you?

A little. I'm very over 2020. I shan't miss it, but I'm not an optimist by nature, so I'm not all that thrilled about 2021. Are you?

I would need more details. 1. Would I have books/music? 2. Do I get to leave the cottage? 3. Do I have to bring someone with me? And if so, how small is this cottage? If the answer is yes and tiny, I'm leaning towards no. 150k isn't enough to put myself through that. I need a lot of alone time - though exceptions do apply from time to time. I don't currently like anyone enough to share a space with them for a whole year. Same question goes to you, though. Would you do that for $150,000?

Ooh, we’ve entered scrolling era on the computer! I now need to scroll to see what you wrote! Exciting things. *claps*. Back when I wrote Shadow Haven I used to get a lot of anons because they thought I was super into answering questions like, “How often do you masturbate / Do you masturbate to fic / What is your favorite thing to masturbate to / You made me come twice with this chapter!” Okay, that last one isn’t a question, but definitely have been told that a few times. Although my all time favorite comment I’ve ever gotten was from this young girl who said she almost reached an orgasm for the first time but the fic wasn’t long enough xD Hm, bullying is a thread throughout my life. But yeah some kids can be absolutely brutal. Adults too. But that’s a sob story for another time lol. RBF is one of my favorite things. I’m glad you didn’t experience that in school, though. I don’t know if I’m all that delightful. I think I’m nice? That’s something lol. I’ve never seen Howard the Duck to be honest. The only Duck I know is Donald. Oh want to hear a funny story about a duck? One day when I was young, back in the olden days, in the 90′s... My brother came home with a duck once. He said it was injured and he put it in the shed. I do think it really was injured but I have no idea what was wrong with it. We had this iron tub in the shed that we put water in and within a couple of days he had shat all over the shed. But we kept him for quite some time I think, although I was young so it was probably like two weeks that felt like two years. Anyway, the duck got better. We named him Donald and then we put him back out in the pond near our house where he came from. You’d think that’s where the story ends. But tis not. So one day not too long after we released him back into the pond... They started to drain the pond because, well actually I don’t know why. My brother said it was because there was one of those electric eels that they needed to get out of the pond, which made us all scared to swim in and I’m just now realizing he probably lied about that. Dick. Anyway, big digging machine came, and I went to walk the dog and on top of the claw of the digging machine was a dead duck. Our dead duck. Which I could see from far away. Uhm. Okay so maybe it wasn’t our duck. But as a child I was fucking convinced it was. I sobbed and told my mom he had been killed. And she was just like, “Well, he had a good time with us, didn’t he!’ I was and perhaps am at times a bit... how shall I put this gently... over dramatic. Sensitive. A drama queen. I freely admit it. I don’t actually know a lot of those artists but I’m listening to Sevdaliza’s Human and uhm. I bet it’s a on a lot of x-rated playlists. Yeah I’m with you on the 2020/2021 feeling. I don’t even want to say it can only get better from here on out because was I ever wrong before! This song is a bop. I like it. Goes straight on my current obsessions playlist. Okay, cottage details. I asked because it’s always one of those Facebook posts I see, but here’s some details. Fuck. Details. Okay. I got this. Yes, you can bring books. And movies. And there’s a TV and a radio and a computer. Just no internet. I don’t know why. But there’s not. FB rules. Not mine. I’d need internet. I’m suddenly getting a one-shot through into my thick skull. As if I am gonna write it. Ha. You can leave the cottage whenever you want. You’re free to roam. Not a prisoner. Hm, it’s not so small that you can’t live comfortable in it, lets say at least two bedrooms, although my inner muse wants to scream, “And there was only one bed,” so hard. So original. I suppose you don’t have to bring someone. I think I could do it but I don’t know how beneficial it would be to my mental health. I already live alone, I have a tiny studio, and I hardly ever leave due to my health issues I’ve had this year. Although, on Fridays I get to go outside with my physical therapist and I am very much looking forward to that. Internet is very much my whole world right now. So I think if it would be taken away I would either thrive, or nose dive. If I had to share the space with someone, I don’t know if I could do it. Depends on who it is, I suppose. Like, I love my mom to death, but her and I would kill each other within a week probably. God this is a lot of blabbing. Oop. Also I just saw the terrible influence thing. Yes, yes I am. I used to make my niece do tiktok’s to prank my brother but one day he got super mad. But too be fair I did have her pretend she stapled her fingers together with a staple gun. So you know. I had it coming. You’d think all this typing would warm up my fingers, but my fingers are ice cold. Okay, here’s a question. What is your dream holiday destination?

#Anonymous

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domestic-harry · 7 years

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Hi! I really loved your fic recs based on Harry's album. Do you have any for mitam? (I'm feeling really nostalgic for ot4 today :/ ) thank you so much!

Hey Angel

Oh I wish I could be more like youDo you wish you could be more like me?

Pull Me Under : AU. As the first British footballer to come out at the prime of his career, it helps that Louis Tomlinson is in a long-term, committed relationship. Even if that relationship is fake. (Featuring Niall as Louis’ favourite teammate, Liam as Louis’ agent, and Zayn as Liam’s boyfriend, who just happens to be good friends with one Harry Styles.)

Drag Me Down

If I didn’t have you there would be nothing leftThe shell of a man who could never be his best

Never Gonna Dance Again : Louis is a spy and Harry is a dancer. The only real thing they know is each other.

Perfect

And if you like having secret little rendezvousIf you like to do the things you know that we shouldn’t doThen baby, I’m perfect

Unbelievers : It’s Louis’ senior year, and he’s dead set on doing it right. However, along with his pair of cleats, a healthy dose of sarcasm and his ridiculous best friend, he’s also got a complicated family, a terrifyingly uncertain future, and a mortal enemy making his life just that much worse. Mortal enemies “with benefits” was not exactly the plan.

Infinity

All I ever wanted was the truth,How many nights have you wished someone would stay?

Into The Blue : AU. In which Louis is Harry’s scuba instructor and quite happy to provide the requested special treatment, pun fully intended. It can’t be all that difficult to convince Harry that they’re on the same page, right? Also, Niall and Liam may or may not be dating, and Zayn is surrounded by emotionally stunted idiots. He bears it with dignity.

End of the Day

If there’s something I’ve learnt from a million mistakesYou’re the one that I want at the end of the day

Relief Next To Me : AU. What happens when a baker and a graphic designer meet via a very specific Craigslist post? Fate, friendship, food, and maybe more.

If I Could Fly

I’ve got scars, even though they can’t always be seenAnd pain gets hard, but now you’re here and I don’t feel a thing

Butterfly Gun : Harry has never been much of a fighter, but—as always—where Louis Tomlinson is concerned, a lot of things stop being true.1940’s AU. Even after six years apart, they can’t forget their shared wartime childhood.

Long Way Down

I try to forgive you,But I struggle ‘cause I don’t know how

Wear It Like A Crown : AU. As part of a team of fixers hired to handle a gay scandal in Buckingham Palace, Louis expects Prince Harry to be a lot of things—most notably a royally spoilt brat. Never mind that the very same Prince Harry used to star in quite a number of Louis’ teenage fantasies.

Never Enough

I don’t need my loveYou can take it, you can take it, take it

Hiding Place : Louis never wanted a soulmate, didn’t really care for the whole Bonding thing at all, really. Enter Harry Styles, who’s wanted to be Bonded for as long as he could remember. With one fateful meeting in an X Factor bathroom, Louis gets a dagger on his arm and the realization that just because Harry is his soulmate doesn’t mean it’s mutual.From the X Factor house to Madison Square Garden, from the Fountain Studios stage to stadiums across the world, Louis has to learn to love without losing himself completely, because someday his best friend will Bond to someone and replace Louis as the center of his universe.

Olivia

Just thinking how I went about it wrongThis isn’t the stain of a red wine, I’m bleeding love

Soft Hands, Fast Feet, Can’t Lose : American Uni AU. Harry Styles is a frat boy football star from the wealthy Styles Family athletic dynasty. A celebrity among football fans, he knows how to play, he knows how to party, and he knows how to fuck (all of which is well known among his legion of admirers).Louis Tomlinson is a student and an athlete, but his similarities to Harry end there. Intelligent, focused, independent, and completely uninterested in Harry’s charms, Louis is an anomaly in a world ruled by football. A bet about the pair, who might be more similar than they originally thought, brings them together. Shakespeare, ballet, Disney, football, library chats, running, accidental spooning, Daredevil and Domino’s Pizza all blend into one big friendship Frappucino, but who will win in the end?

What A Feeling

Everybody needs someone aroundBut I can’t hold you too close now

Where Your Heart Is : Louis is ready for his brand new adventure. So what if he suffers from a genetic condition that prevents him from being touched? College is going to be awesome. It has to. Karma kind of owes him right now. Forget about his overprotective mother, or Liam– his entirely too chipper step brother– or his mess of a roommate. Forget about the gloves he has to wear at all times. He’s here to expand his knowledge, write and drown himself in books – No matter how distracting ‘Hallway Boy’ may be– The obnoxious, flirty frat wannabe determined to become the bane of Louis’ existence.

Love You Goodbye

It’s inevitable everything that’s good comes to an endIt’s impossible to know if after this we can still be friends

Pinkies Never Lie : AU in which Louis hates his job and loves Harry, Harry just wants a distraction, everyone else wants them to get their shit together, and Louis learns the hard way that new beginnings are only possible when something ends.

I Want to Write You a Song

Everything I need I get from youGivin’ back is all I wanna do

Wild and Unruly: Harry is a cowboy sitting on the biggest oil reservoir in Wyoming, and Louis is the paralegal assigned to pressure him into selling his land.

History

You and me got a whole lot of history So don’t let it go, we can make some more, we can live forever

Perfect Storm : What do you do when your best friend asks you and your (now) ex to be the best men at his destination wedding? You can either tell him the truth, tell him you’re not together anymore, and deal with the consequences, or you can pretend you’re still together and roll with it, just pray you don’t spiral. Fake it ‘til you make it. You know, for the sake of the wedding.Harry and Louis choose the latter.

#woooW that was a wild one #fic rec #asks

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aquarianlights · 7 years

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I need you to know, you matter. Your posts have made me feel like I'm not alone in this world so many times. Please know that you make an impact on this world by just being who you are.

I...cannot even begin to describe how this made me feel. I am so goddamn discouraged right now and I just... the joint pain I am experiencing is unreal. But heavy doses of Lyrica impact my ability to function...I’m having anger-induced black outs which...apparently anger is normal when you first get diagnosed with a chronic pain disorder or anything that changes your day-to-day life significantly that you cannot fix. I read a whole book on it yesterday...how the anger is normal. But having black outs due to that anger is apparently not normal, so...Idk. And I’ve been feeling so much less and less motivated to get through the day. . .After I’m awake and I get up and get coffee, I’m okay. But actually waking up (if I take meds to go to sleep, otherwise I won’t sleep at all) is.....it’s... it hurts? Does that make sense to you or..anyone? When I wake up, all I want to do is writhe in bed and cry and fall back asleep, but I know if I try to go back to sleep, the second time I wake up, I will be nauseated so when I’m up, I have to get up to avoid intense nausea. It’s hurting to wake up and I don’t want to be awake anymore...but then I get going during the day doing things...and I start to feel better...But unless I’m studying medicine or doing “adulting”-esque things for the day that go above and beyond the normal. . .I don’t feel a passion or need to exist. But I don’t want to not exist either...maybe I do. I don’t know anymore...I kind of want to give up and die but then other times, I just say “Fuck this. Fuck everyone. Fuck myself and my negativity. I’m gonna do all of this and prove everyone wrong.” And I mean, I always succeed when I say that and I’m having to use less and less valium...I’m experiencing less and less panic attacks...I’m able to do so much more than I could even a year ago...But it’s not enough in my mind despite the fact I’m doing a neurotypical taskload everyday...sometimes even moreso than your average neurotypical. And some days it feels effortless...other days it feels like it’s the end of the world if I spend another 24 hours on this planet... I don’t know.. I feel... I feel hollow. I feel like my soul has been ripped out of my body and pinned against the wall and forced to watch me struggle to get out of bed (both physically and emotionally/mentally/psychologically) every day. I feel like I lost something....something very significant... Yet, I don’t feel like there was anything left for me to lose at this point. Everything just feels so...hollow. Like I’m neither living nor existing... I feel nothing or everything. Sometimes both simultaneously. And that makes no sense and no one is going to understand that but it’s...it’s...infuriating and frustrating and makes me feel this white hot anger bubbling in the middle of my chest. It’s hard to breathe sometimes. Physically hard to breathe. But not in a ...chostochondritis way. Or a pre-panic attack way. It just...it just feels like someone or something is ripping the air from my lungs piece by piece. It feels like someone poked a bunch of holes in my lungs and are now slowly siphoning the air from my lungs little by little through those holes every time I take a breath of air. And there’s this heaviness on my chest...all the time...no position alleviates it and Idk whether it’s physical or mental or both or related to my chronic costo...or what...

I feel passion and fire and drive and determination and all these wonderful things in such extreme doses......but I also feel defeated and dehumanized and demoralized and like maybe it’d be so much better for EVERYONE involved if I just fucking gave up and let go...

I feel like there’s this heavy weight attached to me following me at all times. Like. . .Like a balloon filled with lead that floats... Multiples of those balloons...tied around my throat and wrists and waist and ankles...just...dragging along behind me... giving me this feeling like something is going to happen...something very bad. I feel imminent threats and danger all the time...and I feel like something is pushing me towards a pool filled with tangible defeat. . .and like I won’t be able to stop them from pushing me over the edge and into that pool. . .and like tangible defeat is like quicksand where...if you struggle, you get pulled deeper and deeper in...but if you stay still and calm and accept your fate...you can eventually get out yourself or have someone help you out. But my fight or flight response is SO strong and in that situation, there’s no doubt my system would choose fight despite me wanting to choose neither. So I would struggle and struggle as this thing or person is standing on the precipice...watching me drown in tangible defeat... And it would swallow me whole.

I feel like that is destined to happen in this linear timeline...and that it is so soon. I have come back from SO much in my life...I have come back every goddamn time. I have struggled and made waves in this world... But... It feels ... It feels like that’s not enough. I’m doing something wrong. Or maybe there’s something inherently wrong with me and my mind? Maybe both.

It almost feels like psychosis. Like...Like I’m watching from the outside in... Not dissociation. It doesn’t feel like that. It feels like I’m trapped in a room and that room moves with my tangible body............okay, I guess I’m not describing anything in any way that anyone can comprehend right now. . .

Everything is so conflicted in me. I think it’s just a major flare up of BPD like I’ve never experienced before because all psychs have said I’m a textbook case of borderline and that I am an extreme version of borderline..But I’ve never experienced ANYTHING like this.

This isn’t depression. This isn’t anything akin to depression. I know what depression feels like. I know what suicidal ideation feels like. I lived with both for 24 years. I KNOW this isn’t anything akin to depression/MDD. This is SO MUCH stronger and so much worse than that. Honestly, I would rather just...be straight up suicidal again rather than dealing with these extremely intense, overwhelming swings of passion to defeat. I can go from 0 to 100 back to 0 back to 100 in like...a second flat. I go between “I can do this! Fuck everyone! I’m a fucking demi-god, bitch. Positive vibes. I can do anything. LITERALLY ANYTHING.” to “I can’t do anything and I am the most worthless creature on the planet. . .but I can’t die...and I need someone to kill me.”

I genuinely considered finding a cop and approaching them and from a distance telling them I was armed and that if they didn’t shoot me dead, I would I stab them or threaten them in some way. And if they didn’t believe me, I’d whip a knife out or my taser or my brass knuckles or all three and charge at them. But then I realize I’m 5′2″ and white. . .and....they’d see me as female even though I’m clearly not... They wouldn’t take me seriously and would probably just taser me and cuff me and then either jail time or psych ward. They may not even taser me. They’d probably just throw me on the ground. . .which. . .I’ve had done to me before. I’ve had a cop pick me up with one hand and throw me on the floor in order to cuff me. I know what that’s like... Didn’t hurt at the time coz I had drank a whole bottle of Schol’s vodka and downed exactly 100 xanax. So I felt nothing. But...my friends made me aware I am white and 5′2″ and nonthreatening and even if I begged them to shoot me or did something genuinely threatening to make them have reason to draw their gun or shoot...they probably wouldn’t. . . Which is just... so unfair to everyone involved. All these wonderful, innocent POC being shot all the fucking time, usually to death...for absolutely no reason at all..... and then us saltine crackers not being able to be shot even when we’re begging or doing something threatening. All these people that deserve to live dying.......yet I’m here...still alive... and worth nothing and should be dead....

I’m in ramble-mode now and I’m losing focus because I’m trying not to cry.

Just know...this message......is exactly what I needed right now...

And I cannot even fathom how or why you would feel this way....how or why anyone would...or could... I can’t fathom why you would take the time to write such a wonderful, genuinely kind thing to me... I can’t...I can’t....

Thank you does not even BEGIN to describe the appreciation I want...NEED...to convey. I can’t... I can’t begin to express my appreciation for this... This is literally a life-changing ask. I’m not kidding you. You may very well have just saved my life with this ask.

Thank you. That doesn’t begin to cover it, but...thank you.

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