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azusashissoggynoodles · 3 years ago

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something lonesome about you

The darkness in his chest disappears whenever he is surrounded by her, replacing it with warmth. Whenever she’s happy he doesn’t feel the coldness of the river he drowned in, her laughs are like music to his ears, wonderful melodies that should be heard all over the world. He wonders if this is what Vander felt when he was raising his kids, if this feeling is what made him beg to leave them alone.

ao3

He felt warm despite the cold rain that soaked him and the girl. The girl’s vice-like grip around his torso loosened, her tears and trembling stopped. Silco wrapped the girl's arms around his neck as he lifted her small body from the wet ground. The air was thick with ash and blood when he breathed in. He flinched when the girl nuzzled on his neck, burying her face there, but forced himself to relax when she sighed sleepily. He could feel his crew’s uncertain gaze, but kept their mouth shut. They knew better than to question him. He never held a child before so he tightened his grip on the girl, using his hand to support her head, making sure she didn't fall. The girl was light, much too light. He ignored his crew’s unsettled stares as he walked past them.

“Let us leave.” Silco’s voice isn’t loud but it’s commanding all the same.

He hears a shuffling of boots behind him, a tell-tale sign that they are still loyal to him even if they are wary of his decision to keep the girl. The walk home was short but it allowed him to mull over the events nonetheless. He didn’t—doesn’t know what came over him, why he decided to take the girl, to keep her. He scoffs, that’s a lie. Of course he knows. She was just like him. Left, abandoned by the person that was supposed to care about them. He sees something in her, sees the hunger for something greater, sees the need to be seen, to be heard, to be more than just a burden. He’ll teach her, he’ll show her what it takes to be strong, to be what they fear.

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It’s been two years. She’s older now, stronger. Smarter. Her hair, no longer in uneven cuts but split into twin braids behind her head. Braids that she asked of him to do because her sister could no longer do it for her. She’s happier, no more of that sad girl in the rain, clutching for dear life. Though there are still days that she’s angrier, and much more violent, the smile in her eyes is real. He promises her that it will be okay. She’ll tell him if she wants to be left alone, though rare, he obliges. If She has done something bad, he would voice his concerns. There were bad days, and there were good days, even if there were times where she’d scream, ‘I hate you! I hate you!’ and will immediately follow a chanting of, ‘I’m sorrys’ he will never forsake her.

“Jinx? Jinx!” Silco’s panicked voice echoed through the room.

He was holding a tray full of snacks and drinks to give to Jinx, when he saw her sprawled on the metal floor, unmoving. He dropped the tray and rushed to her immediately, placing two of his fingers on her pulse point. He let out a sigh of relief when he felt the steady beat of her heart. He gently brushed her bangs away from her face.

“Jinx?” His voice was no longer panicked but soft as he lifted her head from the floor. “Jinx? Child, wake up, please.”

A groan sounded from the blue haired teen’s lips, eyes fluttering open. Her eyes shifted left to right before focusing on the man above her.

“Silco?” Jinx’s voice is groggy as though she was just waking up from a nap. She rubbed her eyes as she sat up, disentangling herself from Silco’s grasp, stretching. She looked confused when Silco breathed out in relief. “What?”

“Forgive me, child. I thought something had happened to you. I was supposed to bring you food but,” Silco explained to her, shaking his head before wiping away any dirt from her face with his handkerchief. “What happened? Why were you on the floor?”

Jinx blinked at him a few times before her eyes widened in realization. She didn’t answer him, instead she scrambled to her feet and dashed across the room, leaving Silco stunned on the floor. He came to the conclusion that maybe she fell asleep on the floor, too tired from whatever had kept her busy. He stood up and dusted himself, slowly making his way to Jinx couch, thankful that there wasn’t a strange creepy mannequin sitting there. He watched amusedly as his daughter一 Jinx zipped and zoomed through her cave-like room, rummaging through her tables before jumping animatedly.

“Yes! Found it!” Jinx exclaims suddenly. She turns around and Silco sees that she’s holding a very colorful, two eared mug. It looked like a grumpy mug. His mug, the one that went missing a few days ago. She jumped excitedly towards him but stopped abruptly when Silco stayed silent. Her face fell and she took a step back, gripping the mug tightly.

“Sorry. I’ll-I’ll put it back, I promise!” Jinx’s voice cracked, she gave Silco a watery smile but it only looked like she was in pain. “Or-or I’ll toss it out and make you a new one! A better one!”

Silco blinked out of his shock when he saw Jinx about to throw away the mug. His eyes widened and almost fell over trying to hastily stand up from his seat. His steps were slightly uneven when he reached Jinx. He grabbed her wrist to stop her from destroying the mug. Jinx gaped at him, eyes shining with unshed tears. Carefully, Silco took the mug from her hands and settled it down the table. Jinx shoulders tensed, as if waiting to be hit, but then relaxed almost immediately. Ever since that night in the rain, when her sister left her, Silco noticed how she would always flinch when he would brush aside her hair or when he’d wipe away some soot on her cheek. He hates it. He hates how even after all these years she still carries that trauma with her. He knows he can't just make it go away, he knows because it was the same for him. Every time he’d take a bath, some wretched thing inside his chest would make it hard to breathe and he’d remember Vander’s big hands around his neck, crushing his throat. He wonders, sometimes, when she’d come to him when she has a nightmare and she would mumble in her sleep, saying that she’s sorry, that maybe her sister had hurt her too.

“What’s your name?”

A beat passes. Silco wonders if he said something wrong. He opened his mouth to apologize when the girl spoke.

“Jinx. They call me Jinx.”

“Jinx. It’s okay. I won't hurt you, I promise.” He gives her a small smile, the corner of his eyes wrinkling. He takes the mug from the table and turns it over, inspecting it. He chuckles softly, when Jinx frowns. “It’s very beautiful, Jinx. Thank you.”

“You don’t hate it?” Jinx questions, eyebrows raised. Eyes shining in excitement, grin pulling at her lips. “Really?”

He nods, eyes full of mirth. “I’m sorry if you believed that I hated it when you showed it to me. I was surprised.”

“Surprised?”

“No one has given me gifts before.”

“Really? Not even Sevika?” Playful suspicion colored her voice. Silco chuckles, shaking his head.

“Well, that just means I’ll have to give you more gifts!” Jinx giggles, hugging him briefly before turning to tinker with her contraptions some more. The hug wasn’t tight nor did it engulf him but it still left him breathless. He doesn’t understand. The darkness in his chest disappears whenever he is surrounded by her, replacing it with warmth. Whenever she’s happy he doesn’t feel the coldness of the river he drowned in, her laughs are like music to his ears, wonderful melodies that should be heard all over the world. He wonders if this is what Vander felt when he was raising his kids, if this feeling is what made him beg to leave them alone.

‘Oh, it all makes sense now, brother.’

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“Ugh.” Jinx drags out, rolling her eyes as she drapes herself on Silco’s couch. “This is so boring!”

Silco looks up from his papers, one eyebrow raised. “You’re allowed to leave, you know. You can go anywhere, I told you this. Bring Sevika.” He nods over to the corner where Sevika was standing, an annoyed look on her face at the thought of babysitting Jinx.

“I’m 17! And I don’t need Sevika, I can take care of myself!” Jinx rolls her eyes, pulling out a crayon and doodling aggressively on her newly made bomb. She grumbles something but it was too quiet for Silco to hear.

“You know I can’t hear you when you grumble, child.”

“You promised me yesterday that you’d take me shopping for new tools.”

Silco froze, blinking slowly. He clears his throat and makes a gesture for Sevika to leave. She nods stiffly before departing, a quiet shut from the door behind her. Jinx makes a “pfft” sound, not moving from her spot, only continuing her coloring. A sigh leaves his lips as he turns his chair, an invitation for Jinx to come to him. Jinx huffs but gets up from the couch, sitting heavily on Silco’s lap. The chair groans at the added weight, but it’s probably used to it by now, given how many times Jinx settles herself on Silco’s lap. He understands that her clinginess might be too much for some people, they’d probably think of something inappropriate. But he doesn’t let that bother him, if it helps her feel that he’s real then he won’t stop her. She rests her head on his chest as she doodles on her bomb, though softer now.

“I’m sorry.” He says, petting her head lightly.

“It’s okay.” Jinx stops her doodling, dropping the bomb and crayon on his table.

Silco shakes his head. “It’s not, I made you a promise and I broke it. I’m sorry.”

“Did you forget?”

Silco understood what she was asking, ‘How could you forget? Was I not important enough for you?’

“I.. did, for a moment.” Silco admitted to her.

“It’s fine, it’s whatever. Let’s do it another day, when you’re not so busy.”

Silco hums while Jinx buries her face on his chest, breathing in his familiar scent of cigar smoke and perfume. “Well, I’m not busy right now. Come on, let's go get you some new tools.”

Jinx lifts her head from his chest, eyes sparkling with excitement. ‘Ah, there’s my girl.’ She clutches at his vest. “Okay. Okay, let’s go!” She leaves from his lap and grabs his wrist, tugging him from the chair.

Silco straightens his clothes before following Jinx to the door. He stops her, nodding his head to her abandoned bomb. “Aren’t you going to bring your bomb?”

Jinx shakes her head. “No, It’s for you.”

“Oh, I see.” A smile pulls at his lips, “thank you, Jinx.”

“You’re welcome, dad.” Jinx giggles as she grabs his hand and rushes out the door, dragging him with her. He sees Sevika leaning on the wall, guarding his office. He gives her a look, one that says to manage things for him while he’s out. She snorts, nodding.

Silco swallows. ‘Dad.’

#arcane #jinx #silco #dad silco #arcane fanfiction #mine

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ladykatakuri · 3 years ago

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Musings of a Sargeant

A little One Shot about the sargeant of The Bad Batch, Hunter.

Pairing: None it is about Hunter and the Batch

Warnings: None really, it is the musings of Hunter after the seasons finale

Word Count: 1611

Summary: “Why did I let him stay behind? Why did I not stop our retreat and drag him on board the Marauder and take him back with us? Why could I not convince him of our just cause and his mistake? Why did he not trust me?” Each thought about his brother was another stab in his heart and another crack in his armor.

He had always felt the most responsible for pretty much everything they did. Each training session when they were mere younglings. Each session in the tanks that would either accelerate their growth or heal the injuries sustained during arduous training sessions, each time they would undergo some new treatment that changed something inside of them and have them adjust to yet a new enhancement of their already existing abilities, he would feel responsible for their safety and the comfort they so needed because of the cold and the pains that surged through their still growing bodies.

When they were fully grown, they finished their training and were finally sent out on actual missions. That did not stop him from feeling responsible for them , it actually increased the sensation, the feelings that he had about his small family.

The last mission they had been on together, well, to him it felt as the greatest failure in his career. He gained a sister, though more and more each day she felt like a daughter but he also lost his brother and his self confidence was in shambles.

“ Why did I let him stay behind? Why did I not stop our retreat and drag him on board the Marauder and take him back with us? Why could I not convince him of our just cause and his mistake? Why did he not trust me?” Each thought about his brother was another stab in his heart and another crack in his armor.

But, he had to be strong, he had to put up a front for his remaining family and lead them back to safety. The pain and insecurities would have to wait for another time, right now he would have to show them he was still the strong and reliable brother, the leader, their sargeant.

Hunter gently shook his head as he left the fresher and moved to the cockpit where he found Tech and Wrecker in the pilot seats. Echo sitting behind them checking something on a pad while Omega was half asleep next to him, a blanket drawn around her and Lula securely tugged against her chest.

“What is our current situation Tech?” All back to being the unshakeable sergeant of the group, Hunter patted Tech shortly on the shoulder and moved to sit in his chair.

“We are currently in hyperspace and well on our way back to Ord Mantell. AZI is recharging under the supervision of Gonky, though I doubt Gonky will be of any use for this, it seems it has taken a liking to AZI for some reason. Omega has been warmed up as soon as she came on board and Echo has been wrapping her up in a blanket, keeping an eye on any sign of a cold or worse. Crosshair seems to have not been in contact with the Imperial fleet, though I am uncertain on whether or not there are working stations left on Kamino after the bombardment. Perhaps he still has a comm somewhere on him, but it must have been well hidden since we……”

Hunter stops his brother from explaining anything further by lifting his hand. “I will take Omega to her bunk, she will need her rest after being soaked as she has been. Warn me when we approach Ord Mantell.”

Carefully he picks up Omega and carries her towards her own private bunk. Looking down at her relaxed face and hearing the little snores that come from her slowly falling into a deeper sleep, Hunter feels some relief. At least she is safe and was aware that their lost brother did not forsake or hate her. Crosshair did show some of his oldest self by rescuing her and if anything, that was what Hunter would hold on to for the time being. Gently he lays her down in her own bed, Lula still tightly clenched against her chest, she appears to mumble something in the lines of mix and Wrecker and Crossbrotherlove. “ The wondrous mind of the inexperienced young. ”

He only hopes that she will not be forced to grow up too fast and will still be able to live in some relative peace, or what goes for peace when you're a wanted clone in an Imperial Galaxy.

Instead of moving back to his brothers, he decides to leave for their shared bunk space. “ Just a few minutes, that is all I need.”

His brothers, well aware of the stress and the self blame he is suffering under soon realize he did not come back from taking Omega to her bunk and instinctively know that he must have fallen asleep while trying to gather himself. Without even a word, they decide to let the man rest, if he wants to scold them for that later so be it, though he knows them well enough to understand where it came from.

When Hunter wakes up, he soon sees that he has been away for longer than just a few minutes. All in all he has fallen asleep and been asleep for well over thirty minutes. He rubs the sleep out of his eyes and gets back up from his bunk to make his way back to the cockpit. As he steps into the hull, he takes a minute to gather his thoughts when he hears Techs voice over the comms. “We are approaching Ord Mantell.”

Stepping back into the cockpit he notices Echo busy typing something on a datapad while Tech is preparing to land the Marauder and Wrecker is already standing up to wake Omega, they always celebrate their return with a helping of Mantell Mix and he will make sure that Omega is ready to grab a carton of their shared passion of the sweet and savory snack.

Silently slipping back into his seat, Hunter watches as his brothers all do their respective jobs. Tech, ever diligent in all his piloting tasks, does the work of two since Wrecker has gone to fetch their sister. Echo, no longer busy with his datapad appears to be busy with one of Tech's side projects while simultaneously checking the com signals. The entrance of Omega and Wrecker into the cockpit means they are all together again. Omega rubs her neck as she sits down and beams a smile at Hunter. “You slept well Omega?”

The young girl nods as she pulls up her legs and hugs her knees. “I think I dreamed of Kamino……. But it was not a bad dream, it was with AZI and when we first ate together in the mess hall.” Her grin tells Hunter that despite her young appearance, this girl is far stronger then she seems to any random outsider, a mistake that has been made by strangers in the past and one that would not be repeated by those who survived that encounter.

As the Marauder finally lands on Ord Mantell, Hunter decides to speak to them before disembarking. “Before we all leave for Cid`s …. I know there is a lot to talk about, to figure out. But before we even begin to make a start with planning our next move, take some time to relax and gather your thoughts. Work through everything we experienced up until now and decide on what you want us to do next. If you need anything, and I mean anything , come to me and tell me. If you want to talk, just talk, no matter what it is about. Just, promise me not to do anything rash.” With the last part he glances at Wrecker and Omega, knowing full well that they are the two most likely to come up with an idea and immediately act upon it.

They all nod at the words spoken by their brother. Each of them knows that he speaks from his heart and that he is the one suffering the most. If anyone would need someone to talk to, it would be him. Knowing Hunter though, that would not happen anytime soon, instead he would most likely already be working out a plan to reunite with their lost brother and carve out a little corner in the galaxy for themselves where they could remain in relative safety.

After disembarking the Marauder, each of the group went their own way. Hunter went straight for Cid`s, ordering a drink and sitting in a booth where he would take his time to gather his thoughts.

Tech, after having something to eat together with Echo, went straight back to the Marauder to work on repairs while Echo left for the market to gather some much needed supplies.

Wrecker and Omega went straight for the Mantel Mix vendor trying to keep some form of normalcy. On their way back they did not speak of all that had happened on Kamino and the aftermath, instead they made plans on buying something for Hunter to cheer him up.

Cid, noticing the way Hunter was nursing his drink sat down opposite of him. “So, wanna tell me what happened Bandana? You're not your usual dark and broody self, so for one time only, I am here to listen.” Pouring herself a drink she raises her glass at Hunter and gulps the drink down.

That evening, after everyone returned back to the Marauder for the night, they noticed Hunter was in a better mood than when they were on their way back to Ord Mantell. Whatever it was that happened in the time between returning to the planet and returning to the Marauder, it worked and now Hunter seemed back to his old self, ready to lead them into the fray of the galaxy and planning the return of their brother.

@loth-wolffe@hellothere-generalangsty@chaoticvampirejedi@reluctant-mandalore@cyroku@uponrightful@saradika@hellothere501stlover@kin-rokku@zinzinina@soclonely@murdertoothpick@echos-newlegs@catbustours

#Hunter and the Bad Batch #Hunters musings after season finale #Musings of a Sargeant #tbb #TBB Fan Fic

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mymoodwriting · 4 years ago

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What Is Mine

F!Reader x NCT

Genre: Vampire Hunter AU

Warning: Blood, Fangs, Drugs, Anxiety

Words: 1.6K

Chapter Twelve

(Prev//Next)

Prompt: Vampire hunting was always simple, you go in, you kill the monsters, burn the evidence and move on. Easy. At least that’s what they thought until they find themselves with a fresh new vampire, as innocent and as vulnerable as a child. It presents them with a once in a life time chance to learn and try something new, train a vampire to hunt it’s own kind without remorse. They never would have thought they could have such a pet, let alone grow so attached to it.

Jooheon held on to you tightly, getting as far away from the hunters as he could. As soon as he stopped you were squirming your way out of his grasp, yelling at him to let you go. When you got free he expected you to run back, but you just went off in another direction. Regardless he chased you down and quickly had you back in his arms.

“Let me go!”

“Stop running! You’re already in enough trouble as it is!”

“Let me go!”

“She said let her go.”

Jooheon looked up to see Kihyun. Before he could speak the eldest pulled you into his arms, calming you down. He always made you feel better, regardless of the situation.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Kihyun hissed. “Running off in the middle of our argument.”

“She ran away with her brothers, what was I supposed to do!”

“And where are her brothers? Hm? Did the hunters get them?”

“… yeah… they called them.”

Kihyun scoffed. “You lost your family again? What a surprise, but then again you weren’t really a family. This feels like karma, and well deserved at that.”

“What?”

“Are you okay, love?” Kihyun asked you. “You’re not hurt are you?”

“I’m okay…”

“Have you eaten yet? Are you hungry?”

“A bit…”

“Alright, how about getting you a quick little bite?”

“But it’s morning…”

“That’s fine, you know I’ll take care of everything. Come on.”

“What are you doing?” Jooheon asked. “What-”

“Quiet!”

Jooheon followed Kihyun as he brought you to the city streets. It was still early morning, but the rush hour period had already passed, so not many people were around.

“Do you remember my hunting lessons?” You nodded. “So do you think you can get someone by yourself?”

“Yes…”

“Alright, give it a shot.”

You looked around to see your options and then went off on your own. Jooheon didn’t like the idea at all and tried to stop you but Kihyun held him back and dragged him down the alley. A while later you came back with someone who was asking who needed help. Kihyun gave you a smile and calmed the person down and let you dive in. Jooheon watched in silence, that is until he realized you had no intention of stopping.

“Y/n!”

“Ya!” Kihyun held him back. “Leave her. She’s enjoying herself.”

“She’s going to kill that person!”

“And what of it?”

Things weren’t always so confusing or concerning when you were with Kihyun. He treated you like a vampire, as if there wasn’t any other issue in your life, and because of that it was easy to just be one. You were lost in your snack so you didn’t know what was going on with the other two. Jooheon wound up slamming Kihyun against the wall.

“I’ve heard rumors going around the club about a bunch of bodies dropping because of a ripper!”

“Really?”

“Is it her!” Jooheon yelled. “Did you fucken turn her into a ripper!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You know that fledglings can get addicted to fresh blood! It’s why they’re not supposed to be left alone!”

“Isn’t that exactly what you did though?” Kihyun scoffed. “Excuse me for feeding the poor girl.”

“She wasn’t your responsibility!”

“As if you ever took any initiative with her!”

Kihyun wound up shoving Jooheon off of him and knocking him to the floor. He regained his composure and kept Jooheon down by pinning him beneath his foot. At this point Jooheon knew better than to retaliate.

“The only thing you ever wanted was a family of your own, completely forsaking the one that raised you! The one you already had! I sent wave after wave of hunters hoping that you’d learn you weren’t ready, and when you were finally on your own again, what did you do? You wallowed in your failures instead of picking yourself up and being strong like before!”

“You… you sent the hunters?”

“You were even fortunate enough to get one of your kids back and all you care about is vengeance for the ones who died! Did you think she was just going to sit quietly and wait around for you? Twice now you’ve been so focused on the family you lost that you forgot about the one you already have!”

“You sent hunters after me!”

“And I will do it again if you try anything! You got y/n back, take care of her, prove to me you can actually take care of someone and then maybe, maybe, I’ll let you go off on your own again. Do I make myself clear?”

“Crystal.”

Kihyun moved away from Jooheon, helping him up. He was upset, but mostly hurt by the young ones actions. Jooheon looked at you, seeing you on the floor with a body before you, lips stained red with blood, a dazed look on your face. He knew Kihyun had a point, he was so caught up in the past he couldn’t see what he had now. This mess was his fault regardless of how he looked at it. He slowly made his way over to you, wiping the blood off your face.

“Was it good?”

“… yeah…”

“You think we can go home now? Uncle Kihyun can clean up the mess.”

“Okay…”

♥♥♥♥♥

The young ones were glad to be going home, but nervous all the same. Things were different now. The boys were taken to the lab so Jaehyun and Jungwoo could take blood samples and give them a proper examination. Afterwards they were put into your old room, the only comfortable place for them that wasn’t a cell.

“She must have been so lonely.” Jisung mumbled as he looked at your pile of books. “Being in here…”

“So what happens now?” Chenle asked. “How long will we be in here?”

“We need to monitor you guys.” Jungwoo answered over the comms. “Make sure you’re eating properly and everything.”

“Does that mean we get…” Jaemin lowered his voice. “Animal blood?”

“You want human blood?” Renjun questioned. “When all we ever gave Ze was animal blood? Don’t be a brat!”

“You say that now but it’s not like we’ve had animal blood before!”

“Can you guys not fight.” Mark cut in. “Does that matter right now?”

“What about Ze?” Jeno asked. “She didn’t come home with us and… the body…”

“We know.” Jaehyun admitted. “I don’t know if you guys know, but bodies have been dropping lately. We figured out it was a ripper, and that ripper is Ze.”

“What? That can’t be true.”

“I didn’t want to believe it either, but I looked into it and confirmed it. It’s my fault more than anything.”

“How the hell is it your fault?” Haechan asked. “What did you do?”

“Fed her animal blood. It’s not surprising human blood has more nutrients for her, and probably tastes better. It’d be easy to get addicted, especially since the vamps themselves probably let her drink to her hearts’ content.”

“But she… you saw her, she’s scared!”

“She can’t control herself, and I doubt the vampires care to help her given they’ve been covering her tracks.”

“But can we help her?” Jisung asked. “If we ever bring her home…”

“I have an idea. In theory it should work just fine, but it won’t be pretty. Either way we need to bring her home first, and I don’t know if she wants that.”

♥♥♥♥♥

“You should go wash up. It’s been a long night.”

When you got back to the penthouse Kihyun told you to wash up. The high had worn off, and you weren’t so sure how to feel about Jooheon. You went off to your room, doing as you were told. You were pretty exhausted and could certainly use a shower. As you walked out, drying your hair, you screamed, Jooheon in the room.

“Sorry, sorry, I was just waiting up for you.”

“… why…”

“I wanted to check on you, so get dressed.”

“Right.”

You felt a bit uneasy with him in the room, but you certainly wanted to get out of your towel. As you dressed you’d glance back to make sure he wasn’t looking at you.

“So… what do you want?”

“I was hoping you could show me your wings. I haven’t seen them in a while.”

“Oh… yeah, sure.”

You pulled your shirt up a bit and let your wings fall out. It had been a while since you let them loose, but even in the room you couldn’t properly spread them out. You were nervous as Jooheon went around, grabbing them.

“They’ve grown well. In fact, they seem strong enough for flight.”

“Wa… what do you mean?”

“I mean you can fly, and it’s about time you learned. I could… I should teach you.”

“Re… really? You wanna teach me how to fly?”

“It’s an important part of being a vampire. What else would you use your wings for?”

“I don’t know…”

“Well there are other things, but you should learn how to fly first, get better control with them.”

“You’ll… you’ll really teach me how to fly?”

“Of course. It won’t be easy though. Your wings, and being able to fly are something entirely new to you. I’ll teach you, that is if you want me to…”

“I… I would like that…”

“Then we can start later tonight. You should sleep first, you seem pretty tired.”

“I will.”

“Good. I’ll see you later.”

Jooheon gave you a soft smile and left the room. You stayed put with your wings out, letting them breathe and wondering if the conversation you just had was real. The idea of flying had still been a bit of a fantasy given that you hadn’t seen any of the others fly before. You tucked your wings back in and got into bed, thinking if things were going to change this time. You were on your own again, and you hoped the other boys got home safely. They could go back, you knew that, but you didn’t believe the same option was there for you, not after all you’ve done.

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lilfellasblog · 4 years ago

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Truly *Nothing* Is Spookier Than Self-Care

Summary: Janus absolutely despises being accepted by Thomas and the Light Sides. He can’t help but notice how they very much do not put themselves first. He decides to change that.

A/N: If you liked this, please reblog. It is the only way to help this fic reach a wider audience. This story comes from this ask by @foreverfangirlingalways! Thank you so much for the inspiration and the wonderful prompt! I hope I did it justice!

TW: very light angst, like almost no angst. Small amounts of stress and mild flailing to adapt when the plan doesn't go perfectly.

Word count: 2648

AO3 here!

Fic Masterlist here!

Although Janus was grateful to be accepted by his Host, an aspect of such that he absolutely loved was seeing just how dysfunctional the Light Sides were in their self-care. They certainly had a great deal of work to do, but they held themselves to such high standards, they seemed to constantly move around every waking moment. Janus had been attempting to get the Light Sides more focused on taking care of themselves throughout the day, but the key word here is attempting. They’d thank him for his suggestion and promise they’d do it later.

Janus wondered why he was the one stuck with Deceit as a name.

It was now time for more drastic measures that he hoped wouldn’t land him with a giant frog again. He knew he’d have to go one at a time if he wanted any chance of success, so he decided to target each Side according to the level of concern he had for them. Naturally, this meant Roman would be his first vict- *cough* recipient.

He found Roman precisely where he’d expect him: inside his en suite gym, hair damp with perspiration.

“In the gym again? Don’t you have anything else to do with your spare time?” Janus asked innocently.

Roman started and placed the weight he’d been lifting on the ground. “Greetings Janus! And I do, there’s just always room for improvement!”

Hm, direct won’t work with him in this. Interesting. “I was wondering if you might help me with a sewing project, although I see you’re busy.”

Roman grabbed a nearby towel to wipe his face. “I’m never too busy to assist a Side in need! What is it you’d like my assistance on?”

Janus hummed. “I was hoping to experiment with a few costume ideas for Halloween. I think a pirate might be suitable for me.”

Roman grinned, excitement beginning to shine in his eyes. “Indeed! Allow me a few minutes to wash up, I’ll join you!” He waved his hand. “You’ll find two sewing stations in my room!” He pranced off to the bathroom without another word.

“Don’t take too long!” Janus called after him, hoping he wouldn’t have to wait much longer than an hour for the prince to get his appearance in order.

He only had to wait a half hour before Roman joined him in the room, hair still slightly damp. Janus internally cheered when Roman didn’t have his ridiculously complicated prince uniform on, instead wearing a red sweater with pumpkins stitched on.

“Roman, would you mind trying on the clothes once I’ve finished them? We have similar body types, although you’re more muscular, and my current outfit is simply a bear to get on and off.”

Roman blinked in surprise. “I… I suppose I could, are you certain you want me to do that?”

“If you wouldn’t mind, yes.”

After another moment of prolonged shock, Roman pulled himself together and struck a pose, exaggerated grin on his face. “Well far be it from a prince to forsake a Side in their hour of need!”

Janus smiled, relieved. “Wonderful.” He summoned his nearly-completed pirate costume: tight black pants, calf-high boots, and a billowy shirt with a deep V-neck. “I’m just about to finish these, would you mind taking a look at the seams on the outside of the leg and in the armpit of the shirt? I want to make sure I’ve pinned those in a way that won’t pull.”

Roman and Janus discussed the different options they had for stitching, and once they’d decided Janus had Roman put in the stitching for the pants while he finished stitching the shirt. Janus was pleased that Roman had decided to go for a more complex stitch; he knew the Side enjoyed getting absorbed in a task, and that he enjoyed sewing. Sure enough, after an hour, he looked over and saw Roman’s irises sparkling in red and gold, tongue stuck out of the side of his mouth. 4 hours later, and they’d both finished.

Janus stretched, watching Roman bounce slightly in his seat from excitement. “Well Roman, we did good work. Would you try these on?”

Roman hesitated, then forced himself to smile, Janus watching him carefully. “Certainly! Are you sure you don’t want to?”

“I am, I’d hate to keep getting in and out of my outfit, especially if changes need to be made.”

Roman inhaled deeply and took the clothes, holding them carefully. “I shall not dilly-dally then! I shall return soon!”

Janus plastered a wide smile on his face. “Wonderful!”

That was another thing, the sheer amount of smiling the Light Sides did and how he found himself going along with it. It made his face hurt at time from the sheer amount of smiling.

Roman emerged, posture stiff and forced but proud. Janus raised both eyebrows.

“Roman, you look wonderful! Stand in front of the mirror, won’t you?”

The prince shuffled over, eyes darting between himself and the ground.

Janus appraised the Side before him, and was relieved he wouldn’t have to lie about a single thing. “Goodness Roman, you like incredible! The skin-tight pants look wonderful on your legs, and the shirt highlights your figure! I must say, I’m quite jealous. I’ve been also considering going as a bard this year, why don’t you just take this costume? I shows off all of your muscles and your broad shoulders especially!”

Roman looked at him, surprised. “Are you certain? You’ve spent so long on this, I couldn’t possibly-”

“I am, I’ll enjoy knowing you’re enjoying something I made. Come now, Thomas is tired, and it’s best to look in the distance to prevent eye strain. Would you like to watch some Disney movies?”

Roman frowned and looked back towards where his en suite gym was. “I really should be getting back to a workout…”

“Nonsense, you’ve been working out so much, and you’ve been working hard in other areas. You’ll be more productive after some rest.”

Janus let out a breath when Roman shrugged and summoned a large television. He got some beanbags and snacks for them, and Janus watched as Roman slowly relaxed and got engrossed in the movies, eagerly agreeing to watch one after the other. Once dinner rolled around, Janus suggested a famILY movie night, which got Patton on board, which meant everyone would attend. Roman had changed back into his pumpkin sweater, and Janus was the last one awake, pleased to see the other Sides asleep, surrounded by snacks and illuminated by the glow of the television. He sank out to his room, and planned his next intervention.

/////

Janus waited a week so as to not draw any suspicion to himself, and found Patton in the kitchen. He was typing furiously on a tablet, Thomas currently working through whether or not he should use his celebrity status to get ahead in line so he could get back to editing a new video faster so he could get that out to his fans so he could-

He pulled his mind back from Patton’s, reeling slightly.

You need this more than I thought.

Janus backed up a bit, then walked more heavily to announce his presence to Patton. Patton looked up at him happily.

“Heya Janus! What can I do ya for?”

Janus smiled easily, the cheerful Side great at lifting moods. “I see you’re in the middle of something, but once you get a moment, I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind helping me bake something? It’s a skill I’d like to acquire.”

Patton lit up. “Well sure!! Give me just a few minutes and I’ll be right with you!”

Janus set a tea kettle to boil and put a mint tea bag in Patton’s mug and a black tea bag in his own. Just as Patton sighed and set the tablet on the table, the kettle went off and Janus poured the water before Patton could do it. He didn’t miss how Patton rolled his shoulders and stretched his neck.

He gently set the mug of tea in front of Patton. Patton lifted and smelled it, closing his eyes.

“Mmmmmm, mint, my favorite!”

“Oh really? Lucky guess, I suppose.”

Patton looked up at him knowingly. “You’re good at guessing,” he teased.

“Thank you for noticing. I’ve noticed that Thomas’ Sides have been quite busy lately. Do you think a chocolate beet cake would go over well?”

“Do I?!” Patton asked, eyes shining and the edges of his irises glowing light blue.

Patton donned plastic gloves and got to work peeling and grating the beets, while Janus combined the wet and dry ingredients in separate bowls. He asked Patton for reassurance on occasion, despite being confident in his abilities. He let Patton take over once it was time to combine everything and put it in the oven.

Patton tapped his finger against his chin. “Hmmmmm… what kind of frosting should we do? I’m thinking either buttercream or ganache, what do you think?”

Janus shrugged. “Why not just store-bought frosting? It seems easier.”

Patton looked at him incredulously. “For a beet cake?! Oh no, we may as well make something while it’s baking!”

Shitshitshitshitshitshit- Janus frantically thought back to the brief research he’d done on cakes.

“How about ganache? I’ve always been intrigued about that.”

“Sure!” Patton chirped. Janus let out a breath as Patton bounded over to the fridge to grab heavy cream. Patton showed Janus how to make ganache, and Janus was surprised and relieved at how simple it was.

As the cake cooked and the ganache cooled, Janus and Patton chatted amicably, Janus asking questions about something Patton would bring up and watching Patton’s eyes become bluer and bluer as he kept talking. The oven pinged, and Janus convinced Patton that a game of cards was in order while they let the cake cool. One game led to five, and by then it was time to gently reheat the ganache and pour it over the cake.

Patton jumped when he realized the time. “Oh gosh!! I’m so sorry, I don’t have dinner planned! I can-”

“Don’t worry about it Patton,” Janus interrupted. “I actually have a recipe I’ve been meaning to try out if you don’t mind relinquishing the kitchen?”

Patton smiled nervously. “Do you want any help?”

I might have to adjust my plan. “No, but I would like some pleasant company. You’re on your feet so much, it’s good to soak them.” He summoned a bucket filled with warm water and a bag of lavender-scented epsom salts. “I won’t be long.”

Patton poured some of the epsom salts into the bucket of water and groaned and whimpered at the relaxing sensation on his feet. Janus turned and allowed himself a small smile, then cooked up some 4-ingredient Italian chicken breasts from a recipe he’d found online, along with some roasted veggies and some pasta aglio e olio on the side. He set the table when Patton had his eyes closed in pleasure, then got everything served and helped Patton massage and dry his feet.

After dinner, in which everyone complimented the cooking, Patton declared he would go to bed a little early tonight, so Janus sent him upstairs with some chamomile tea. He cleaned the kitchen, and felt rather accomplished.

Roman and Patton are taken care of, thank God. He chuckled to himself. Up next, two for the price of one!

/////

Janus stood in front of Logan’s closed door, holding a pencil and large pad of paper, uncharacteristically nervous.

I’ve been able to fool Roman and Patton, but Logan is smart. He may see through this.

He knocked on the door, uncertain of his success.

Logan answered the door, every hair and fiber of clothing in order. “Hello Janus.”

Oh dear Lord in Heaven, this man needs to relax. Janus put on his best smile. “Hello Logan. I’ve become rather fascinated with the constellation Serpens and was wondering if you’d help me chart it and some stars and constellations around it? I’m afraid this is out of my area of expertise and I know this happens to be a field you’re familiar with.”

Logan looked at him skeptically. “You want to chart the stars with me,” he deadpanned. “You have no ulterior motives?”

“None whatsoever,” Janus said.

Logan looked over Janus’ shoulder at the wall, upset.

He knows you lied, salvage this! Janus sighed, pushing it a little. “Truth be told, Logan, I would like to get to know you more, and although I truly am interested in learning more about the constellation of the snake, spending time with you was my ultimate goal.”

Logan looked surprised, a faint blush on his cheekbones. “Oh. I suppose… that would be satisfactory.”

Janus leaned on all of his acting abilities to look relaxed. “Excellent. Would your room suffice?”

“It would.”

Janus laid his pad of paper and pencil on the floor where Logan indicated, and timed his next move while Logan was looking over his books.

“Say, Logan, you and Virgil seem to enjoy each other’s company, shall we ask him to join us?”

Logan stopped flipping through the thick tome currently in his hand long enough to raise his arm in a summon. Virgil rose up and grabbed his head.

“God L, how are you guys not constantly dizzy?” Virgil jumped when he saw Janus. “Oh! Hey, what’s up guys?” Janus made sure to hide his endearment for the anxious Side when he saw Virgil cringe

“Janus would like assistance mapping the constellation Serpens and the surrounding night sky. He suggested you accompany us,” Logan explained without raising his eyes from his book.

Virgil looked between Janus and Logan. “Just like… hang out?”

Janus decided to step in. “Yes. I noticed you seem to enjoy the company of others, but aren’t always interested in participating.”

Virgil offered a soft smile. “Yeah, I guess… that’s chill. Mind if I just listen to music and stuff?”

“Not at all,” Janus and Logan said at the same time.

Virgil snorted, then flopped on the bed, put in an earbud, and started up his phone.

One down, one to go.

Logan sat in front of Janus, irises already dark blue.

Two down, it seems.

Janus listened intently as Logan spoke at length about Serpens, and then about related constellations, and then about related galaxies and stars, with Janus asking questions along the way. They charted out Serpens and filled the large piece of paper with other stars and constellations, and even Virgil would chime in every now and again.

Janus definitely didn’t almost get emotional when he saw how relaxed the two normally-tense Sides were.

When Patton knocked on Logan’s door for dinner, Virgil swore.

“Shit! Did I miss something? Did Thomas need me?! Fuck, I-”

“Relax, Virgil,” Janus soothed. “I kept an eye on things, Thomas is just fine. See for yourself.”

Virgil’s eyes grew distant for several long moments before refocused. He blew out a breath.

“Okay, whew,” he sent a grateful look towards Janus. “Thanks man.”

Janus waved. “Not a problem. Let’s not keep Patton waiting.”

Janus followed the two Sides downstairs, feeling victorious at how relaxed their shoulders were. Virgil was even walking with proper posture!

Dinner was a relaxed affair, the Sides content and laughing easily. Remus was chattering on about one thing one moment and another the next, with Logan offering feedback and Virgil changing the topic for Patton’s sake. Janus ate, not admitting how nice it felt to be included in famILY mealtime. It took him til nearly the end of dinner to realize no one was watching him out of the corner of their eye.

They trust me, he realized.

By the end of the night, he stretched out on his bed, pulling his heated blanket up to his neck.

What a waste of time. Totally not worth it, he thought to himself as he planned his next meeting with Roman.

#janus sanders #janus sanders fanfic #janus sanders fanfiction #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides fanfic

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author65 · 3 years ago

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May 5, 2021-Wednesday

The morning started like any other, but I had an unshakable feeling that something was wrong. I reached for my phone on the nightstand to see the time and discovered the email notification as well. I reluctantly opened my emails and the first one was from the bank. An alert of insufficient funds. I immediately told my son. When I tried to use my debit card at the front desk it was declined. I panicked. What was going to happen? I didn’t want to go outside, or to a shelter. This was unfamiliar territory.

There was nothing else for us to do, but start packing our belongings. We had turned this hotel room into our home. Two queen beds, two mini refrigerators, a flat screen television, and beautiful scenery of the ocean and canal from the 37th floor lanai. That fact that we had to give this up after having been in the room for three months left me somewhat distressed. I prayed and tried to understand why we had to leave.

The thought of finding employment had never crossed my mind. The Lord had sustained me for over six years after He told me to quit my job and follow the life He had planned for me. Where was He now, I thought. My peace was shattered. What I did not know was, this was the beginning of another chapter in the plan God had for me and my kid.

For the next five days we went on another journey. We made our way to first, one park, then another, and finally the beach. During this time the Lord sent His angels out in full force to be with us. From the lady who, from out of nowhere, brought me a hot breakfast and money, to the youth ministry who brought us snacks and offered prayer after hearing my testimony of the past six years of God’s greatness, I realized, my Heavenly Father had never left my side. He was there in the midst of it all.

It was later that I learned this was to encourage my son to move on with his life, as God has a plan for him as well. The Father will not allow us to be comfortable when He has things for us to do. My son left for Los Angeles(where he wanted to live, anyway) five days later. He is happy.

Hebrews 13:5(NIV)- God has said, “Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you.”

#travel photography #travel #writers on tumblr #writing #homelessness #hawaii #honolulu #my life #writerlife #over50

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artxyra · 5 years ago

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Haunted Affection | Part 2

Part 1

I fell in love with the devil and now I'm in trouble. I fell in love with the devil; I'm underneath his spell (ah). Someone send me an angel, to lend me a halo. I fell in love with the devil. Please, save me from this hell…

Avril Lavigne, I Fell in Love with the Devil

As the sun shines against the couple, the female looks up to her companion. He places a black-as-night necklace around her neck and kiss the delighted woman on her cheek. Afterward, the male gets down on his right knee and pulls out a ring; the female lets out a silent gasp, tears swell in her eyes. She takes the ring and kisses the male. It is then that he gets up and holds her close.

He pulls her away from the arbor to swing her around. Her smile brightens, as her dress barely leaves the ground. The male sets her down leaving her in a daze. Not breaking their touch, the woman finds a bench, plucks a rose, and sits down. Her dress cascades over the stoned bench, as she closes her eyes and lay down in a Sleeping Beauty position. He kneels and stares longingly at his lover. Their lips only seconds away from touching.

A couple months prior:

Adrien couldn’t stand the thought of his princess being with his competitor. She must be under a spell or something? No one likes to be around Felix. He paces around his room leaving Plagg pleased with the view. If his small stump of a hand wasn’t filled with cheese, he sure would have loved popcorn place there instead.

“And here I thought she was just a friend.” Plagg mocks taking a bite—well swallow a whole slice of cheese.

“She is Plagg!” Adrien stressed with hands press against his cheeks. “But how could she—Felix?” He’s losing it. Plagg looks around everywhere but at his chosen. If it wasn’t for Adrien constant groaning about life before Felix came into the picture, Plagg was sure that he too would have lost it.

Adrien looks outside his window to see the formation of storm clouds covering Paris. “I need to see her. I need to sway her that he is not right for her.” He murmurs.

Plagg grimace expecting the familiar pull to his miraculous. “Plagg, Claws Out!” He could only groan as Chat Noir begins his transformation.

As Marinette was getting ready for bed, she heard the familiar knock against her window. Motioning for Tikki to hide, she walks over to open the trap door. You have got to be kidding?

“What are doing here, Chat?” Apparently, he took that as an invitation into her bedroom, but the gentle resistance was saying otherwise. “You need to leave.”

“I would Princess, but I have to talk to you.” He pleads, Marinette rolls her eyes and looks past him.

“There isn’t an akuma attack, is there?” She questions; Chat smile falters. His princess wasn’t trusting him.

“Purrincess, please.” He attempts to get inside the trap door.

Marinette purses her lips and pushes him out to the balcony. She follows and crosses her arms. “Please make it quick.”

Chat smiles and attempts to take her hands into his own, but she evades and taps her foot. It was then that Chat knew he had limited time.

“A mutual friend of ours told me that you’ve been distant lately. Is there any reason for that?” He ponders, Marinette stares aghast at the hero in front of her.

“Which mutual friend said that? If this has anything to with my collége peers, why are you concerned?” Marinette asks as her mood wavers. It was clear as to why he’s here, but she couldn’t help but wonder which one of her former friends would ask such a thing.

Chat is silent for a moment, “I’m worried about you, Purrincess, along with all your friends.”

She holds her hand up, “Can you please leave?”

“Excuse me what?”

“Can you leave, I’ve had enough, Chat. I’m tired and if your reasoning for being here is to make me feel like the bad guy then you need to leave.” Marinette walks back to the trap door and disappears into her bedroom.

Chat look around as if trying to make sense of her reaction. His hands clench, fingernails digging their way past the leather fabric. How dare his princess rejects him? He paces around on the balcony, making several attempts to get her to come out before giving up completely.

As Marinette watch the cat-themed hero leave, her heart was pounding against her chest as she tries to calm her breathing. Her once Knight in shiny leather is now scaring her in her civilian form. Her arms curl around her as Tikki attempts to comfort her frighten chosen.

“What the heck was that?” Plagg hissed the second he was freed from the transformation.

“I don’t know, Plagg!” Adrien shouts pulling on his hair.

“You better figure it out.” Plagg insisted before flying over to his secret hidden cheese compartment. He has to figure it out before he loses his chance forever.

Adrien phone buzz to life, it was a text to his group chat with Alya and Nino. They too were in it to begin Marinette back to them. However, Adrien couldn’t find it in him to look at the messages. He has an enemy to approach at their next meeting.

For the first time in a long time, Adrien was excited to go to his photoshoot. Natalie didn’t have to pry the poor teen off his bed and into the car. Plagg was enjoying the extra amount of cheese for him to be kept occupied.

If some had asked the other models, they would say that Felix is an enigma. He rarely shows emotions unless instructed to, but everyone could tell that something good had happened to him.

As Felix was walking off the set, Adrien knew it was time to act.

“Hey Felix,” Felix kept on walking. “Felix!” It was then that the tall blonde stops.

Felix waits for Adrien to come closer then looks over his shoulder, “Agreste, is there any reason you have decided to talk to me?” It was then that he turns his full attention to the other blonde.

Adrien slightly steps back and straightens his posture. “We need to talk.”

“About?” Felix urges.

“It’s about Mari,” The Agreste model starts off; Felix lifts an eyebrow. “You need to stop hanging out with her. She’s been avoiding the people in our class because of you—”

“You mean the people that forsake her?” Felix cuts the poor teen off. Felix crosses his arms looking somewhat unpleased with the situation. “Marinette, or Mari as you call her, is not avoiding anyone. It’s quite impossible for her too. Now, what is the real reason why you’re talking to me, Agreste?”

Adrien huffs and size up to the taller blonde, “She’s my friend, Felix, and I care about her. Your reputation would damage her if word got out.” Adrien didn’t want to lose this conversation, but the lack of interest coming from Felix was making his case rather difficult.

“Her being an associate of mine will not harm her reputation, Agreste. There hasn’t been a single article about me seeing someone, which brings to this: how did you know?” Felix glowers and allows a small smirk slip onto his face.

“The way I found out has nothing to do with this,” Adrien counters, “You just need to stay away from her, she has enough on her plate than to hang out with you.”

The Agreste model, struts away as if he had won the conversation that Felix blatantly ignored. Felix knew that this wasn’t going to be the last time he’ll see the secluded blonde, and he also didn’t want to bring this up to Marinette.

When Adrien made it to Tom & Sabine Boulangerie Patisserie, he walks in with the hope of running into the daughter of the two owners. Tom looks up from the showcase to see the familiar face of the poor boy that was practically always starving.

“Adrien, haven’t seen you or the others around lately, is everything okay?” Concern leaks through the older man’s voice.

“Uh yeah, is there by any chance that Marinette is here?” He asks trying to avoid eye contact.

“I think she went for a walk, something spooked her last night, so she wanted to walk around to clear her mind. Do you need anything to snack on? You can either wait here or come back later when she returns.” Tom searches for pastries to give to the teen.

“I’ll just come back later if my father will allow it. Is that okay?” Adrien answered as Tom pulls out a few croissants and give them to him.

“Well in that case, I hope you have a nice day. I will tell Marinette that you came by when she returns.” Tom says his goodbyes as Adrien waves to the man and walks out of the bakery.

Finding a close-by alley, Adrien slumps against the wall and looks around to make sure that it clear.

“I don’t know what I should do, Plagg. Felix isn’t going to leave Marinette alone despite my warnings, and I doubt another as visit Chat Noir will work.” Adrien sighs, hoping that Plagg would communicate with him.

“Look, you tried to be the guardian angel; however, the cheese is no longer in your possession and now all you can do is wait for a new order of cheese that has aged well,” Plagg advised to his chosen.

“I just want everything to be the same from before…” Adrien closes his eyes and takes a breather before continuing his walk back to the mansion.

Over at the graveyard, Marinette stands at the iron arbor with a single rose in hand.

“You know we have to stop meeting like this.” She voices as her attention turns to the dark side of the arbor to see the one that has claimed her heart.

“You like it, so why stop.” He said as his hands whisk the rose away from her.

Marinette stares longingly at him as if she was trying to figure out the words to say. Instead of speaking, she does the impossible. She closes the gap between the two and stands on her tippy toes.

Part 3

Tag List: @juhavs | @clumsy-owl-4178

#i fell in love with the devil au #miraculous ladybug #miraculous au #miraculous ladybug au #miraculous ladybug fanfic #ml fanfic #felinette #adrien agreste #ml felix #marinette dupain cheng #ml plagg #haunted affection

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the-sweetest-dragon · 5 years ago

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A Summer Like Never Before

- A Summer Job AU - No Pennywise - Georgie is still alive - Mostly tomfoolery -

Fandom: It

Characters: Eddie, Richie, Bev, Ben, Bill, Mike, Stan

Word Count: 1309

Ships: Eventual Benverly, Reddie, and Stan x Patty

Warnings: Out of character behavior

AN: I listened to an Reddie playlist on Spotify while writing this, so if it’s overly mushy, thats why. I’m really happy so many of you are enjoying this story! Your approval makes this so fun to write. Thank you to everyone who reads this <3

Tags: @nerdsarebetter @audder17 @just-another-shipper-01 @sapphic-bottlexap

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five

_________________________________________

Eddie Kaspbrak rarely has free time. Between his job and his insane mother, he doesn’t have time to think about much of anything. But does that stop him from thinking about his best friend in ways that he shouldn’t? No, not at all.

Now is one of those times. Eddie is at work, hasn’t had a customer since one and is wondering if his manager would get mad if he closed twenty minutes early. But, instead of texting her, Eddie decides that he should give the pets their evening meal so he can get out of here quicker and head to Richie’s a bit early. The thought filled him with adrenaline.

Eddie was the type of person to be obnoxiously early to any and every event. He and Stan both have anxiety, which is something they bonded over in middle school. His mother had put him on medications that made it worse and Eddie had finally weaned himself off enough so he could be a somewhat functioning human. Every morning he’d switch his pills with multivitamin gummies and just swallow them whole so his mother would think he was taking them. Most of Eddie’s prescriptions were bullshit his mother made him take and he’d luckily found out before he became addicted to anything too serious.

While Eddie is feeding the lizards, he lets his mind wander to Richie and what their evening was going to be like. Richie had texted to tell him earlier that his mom was making pizza instead of ordering it because she had heard that the pizza place was going out of business.

Eddie dreamed about curling up close to Richie and sharing a bowl of popcorn when their hands brush past each other and they look into each other's eyes, lean in and…. Ding! Eddie’s daydream is ruined by Bill texting the group chat details of their summer meet up. While he’s distracted by his phone, Eddie doesn’t realize that a lizard from the habitat is crawling into his sweatshirt pocket.

Now, you may be wondering how Eddie doesn’t feel extra weight in the pouch of his sweatshirt. Well, theres’ two things to take note of when thinking of this situation. The first is that the lizard is not very large, tiny even. The second is that Eddie keeps a lot of stuff in that pouch. His keys, his phone, his wallet, extra change, a phone cord; it’s like Mary Poppins’ magic bag with no bottom. What’s the little bit of extra weight to him?

After answering Bill’s text with an enthusiastic yes, Eddie goes back to the task at hand. Focusing was proving to be quite difficult and by the time he finished feeding all the animals, Eddie was nearly late for… whatever it is he was doing at Richie’s house that night. Eddie’s mind had gone completely blank trying to remember the details of what was supposed to happen tonight. And he still needed to pick up snacks!

Eddie hurriedly clocks out and sprints to the Pop Stop to grab snacks and a few sodas. Bill and Mike aren’t working today, so Eddie pays and leaves quickly. He goes over his mental checklist of things he had needed: Twizzlers and gummy sharks for Richie, peach rings and gummy bears for himself, and a six pack of sodas they had yet to try. Eddie had packed an overnight bag, you know just in case, and had extra blankets in the back of his car. Mrs. Tozier used a clothing softener that made Eddie break out in hives, so he had to bring his own blankets.

After checking off everything on his checklist, Eddie booked it to his car and nearly sped to the Tozier house. He was going to be barely five minutes late, but Eddie could feel the panic rising in his throat. Eddie took some deep breaths to combat the anxious feeling, finding things to focus on that weren’t the clock in his dash. The trees were really green and there was a blonde girl skating with a little boy in her driveway. His airways finally open up, and Eddie is able to take another deep breath to steady himself further.

Once at Richie’s, Eddie bounces out of the car, the feeling of panic nearly gone completely. Grabbing all of his supplies, he feels something move in his pouch. Eddie puts everything down, reaches in, and pulls out the lizard.

Eddie, of course, screams his head off. Richie sprints out of his house, thinking that Eddie was being ax murdered in his driveway.

“What?! What is going on?!” Richie has to yell over Eddie’s panicked screams. He spots the small lizard grasped in Eddie’s hand and carefully pries it out, holding it gently in one hand. With his other hand, Richie grabs Eddie by the shirt and brings him in close. “You have to calm down Eddie. People will think you’re being hurt. Close your eyes, take some deep breaths, and tell me what’s happening.”

Eddie nods and does as he’s told, breaths ragged and shallow at first but slowly deepens. Richie smiles, happy his advice worked. Eddie finally realizes the position that they’re and freezes. Richie’s hand is on his shirt, they’re very close together, foreheads nearly touching. Eddie can smell Richie’s cologne, that’s how close they are. Richie is the first to move away, looking down at the lizard in his hand and raising an eyebrow in curiosity.

“He must have slipped into my pocket when I was feeding the rest of them…” Eddie sounds breathless to his own ears and he curses his fake asthma.

“Well what should we-” Richie stops mid-sentence and grins almost evilly at Eddie.

“What?” Eddie is beyond suspicious at this point. Richie grinning means that someone is going to get into trouble or maybe roasted. You can never be sure.

“You’ve brought us a lizard child!” Richie yells. Eddie just frowns.

“No, I should really take it back to the shop. Mandy will get worried when she opens if a lizard is missing.” Eddie makes to take the lizard back from Richie but he darts away. Eddie gives chase, racing around the front yard until they’re both out of breath. “Trashmouth, give me the damn lizard!”

“No! I will not have you forsake our son!” Richie clutches the lizard to his chest. Eddie just rolls his eyes and gives up. What use is it to keep chasing him around the yard if he wasn’t going to give the stupid thing up?

“Fine! We can keep the fucking lizard! But it’s staying at your house! Mom’ll have a fit if I bring home an animal.” Richie nods, as if this whole situation makes total sense. “Do you have the stuff for a lizard?” The Tozier’s had had several different pets over the years, but Eddie couldn’t recall a lizard of any sort. Richie nods, confirming Eddie’s doubts.

“We’ll have to go pick up supplies,” he says. Eddie nods, thoughtful. “And we should go, like, now.”

“But…” Eddie pouts. He was really looking forward to having Mrs. Tozier’s pizza and watching some movies.

“Aww don’t pout Eds! I’ll get Mom to save us a pie.” Richie winks and hurries inside. Eddie’s eyebrows shoot into his hairline. Oh no, he winked. That’s outright flirting right there. But did Richie mean it as flirting or as a friendly wink, like ‘we’re in on a joke together’ kind of wink? Questions fly through Eddie’s mind at breakneck speed, nearly giving him mental whiplash.

Richie comes back a moment later, the lizard safe in an old fish tank his dad found in the garage. It wasn’t much, but it would do until they could find a proper tank for the little guy. He heads to Eddie’s car and looks back at Eddie’s unmoving form.

“You coming or what Eduardo?”

#eddie kaspbrak #richie tozier #reddie #beverly marsh #ben hanscom #benverly #stanley uris #bill denbrough #mike hanlon #it #it chapter 2 #it chapter one #losers club #it losers #losers #a summer like never before

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notveryglittery · 5 years ago

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star light, star bright

it’s @blinksinbewilderment‘s birthday!!! you know what she likes a lot? romantic analogical and brotherly prinxiety :) it’s a quick little bulletfic with lots of extra bonus background ships. i really treasure our friendship, blink, i hope you have a day that shines as brightly as you do, and that you feel as much happiness as i do whenever i get to talk to you <3!!

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

brotherly prinxiety

big bro ro

virgil goes to roman for advice on how to ask out his long-time crush logan

roman initially teases him relentlessly because anyone with eyes can see logan has liked virgil back for at least three quarters of that long-time

when roman realizes the two are in fact blind pining oblivious dummies, he jumps at the chance to help this ship sail as smoothly as it can from where it’s been docked for far too long

roman is obviously a Professional Matchmaker - look, his name is in the word “romance”

(never mind the fact that patton is the one who swept roman off his feet with a romantic declaration at the top of a ferris wheel underneath a bright full moon)

(they’ve definitely let roman live this down. absolutely no one brings it up at every given opportunity)

so roman teaches virgil all of the important things to woo one’s true love (“he isn’t my true love,” virgil gripes, hoping roman doesn’t notice how hard he blushes. roman notices.) this includes: practicing of poetic confessions, the perfect combination of flowers in bouquets, romcom movie marathons.

to virgil’s mortification, roman invites patton to one of their lessons. to virgil’s further humiliation, patton’s brother declan tags along, and it turns out virgil’s to practice his confession on declan because he’s got that same dry wit and humor as logan, and surely he can offer the best reactions.

(declan thinks this is very stupid but he and virgil are also kind of frenemies and so declan will take any blackmail he can get his hands on)

it goes about as well as you think it would

meanwhile, one logan sanders is trying to smother himself with a pillow

“babe, you of all people should know how physically impossible it is to do that”

logan throws the pillow at his queer platonic partner

by some miracle, remy dodges it and manages not to spill a single drop of his starbucks

so as we all know, logan has been pining for virgil for quite a few years now, and as we also all know, he is a blind oblivious dummie

remy is surprised his ears haven’t fallen off yet with how much logan gushes about virgil

it would be cute if it hadn’t gotten really old like a year and a half ago

(okay, it’s still pretty cute but remy thinks a lot of things about logan are cute) (like, hello, the utter look of concentration on his face when he’s deciding which tie matches his outfit best?)

remy wants logan as happy as he can be, of course, but virgil is… well, remy and virgil kind of had some issues sophomore year that they never really resolved.

it doesn’t really interfere with their relationship now given the dynamic of their friend group. they kinda tolerate each other. but remy’s gotta give virgil the Talk - you know the one, “you so much as even think about hurting logan and they’ll never find your body”

remy and roman definitely haven’t been texting each other updates over the months, why would you even insinuate something so devious

after many shenanigans and montages of:

roman helping bolster virgil’s confidence

big bro ro helps virgil to perfect all the makeup tricks he’s learned on his own over the years. virgil understands now just how good winged eyeliner sharp enough to kill a man can make you feel.

he really does get better with pick up lines and flirting; he stumbles sometimes but it feels effortless and that’s the important part.

declan jokingly threatening to steal logan away if virgil didn’t get on with it

while virgil knows declan’s aroace ass would never, virgil does not know that logan likes him back, and so this still seems like an entirely plausible thing to worry and stress about

sometimes, declan drapes himself over logan and heckles him into a debate; partially to see virgil get all flustered over logan all worked up, partially to encourage virgil to hurry up already, wouldn’t he like to be in logan’s space like this?

remy dropping hints around virgil about logan’s newest interests

virgil and logan might be close friends who have been mutually pining over each other for years, but there’s still things they don’t tell each other, or don’t get the chance to share. if remy happens to let slip that logan wants desperately to visit the new exhibit at the observatory, well, that’s neither here nor there.

and he does give virgil the Talk, a few nights before the plan is set into motion. in the same go, they mostly remedy their past issues. by the end of it, virgil wonders how it’s possible for someone to be so threatening while using pet names like “babe,” “sweetie,” and “honey” every other sentence.

eventually, virgil is deemed Ready. it is Time.

halloween is virgil’s favorite holiday and because logan loves virgil, he also loves halloween. sure, all the sweets are a health hazard, and trick-or-treating really isn’t the safest tradition, and ghosts do not exist - but virgil glows during this season. he adds autumnal colors to his wardrobe and it really is not fair how good he looks in oranges, and browns, and deep greens.

(in case we aren’t all on the same page yet, logan is Very Very Gay.)

everyone is at remy’s house. it’s definitely one of the biggest homes in their small town and so this is where a lot of the holiday parties tend to take place. the dormir family is also generally just really well liked. which means more people than invited show up but if anyone knows how to throw and manage a party, it’s remy.

anyway the plan is that virgil and logan finally get together at this party so that they can finally go trick or treating with the gang in matching costumes

it is so lame and virgil would rather forsake trick or treating completely but also he may or may not have been planning couple’s costumes for like four years now

everything is going really well!

roman and patton are social butterflies, flitting from the dance floor to the kitchen to the backyard. they’re dressed up as she-ra and perfuma, respectively. roman’s even threaded led lights into the underskirt and cape so that he’s actually glowing. patton’s flowers aren’t just a crown atop his head, they twist and weave along his arms, around his torso, and down his legs.

remy wears the same thing every year to the party: pajamas and a ridiculous pair of slippers. he saves the extravagant costumes for halloween night. he truly is a spectacular host, making sure drinks and snacks are restocked, that nothing’s being broken, and checking in on those who don’t handle the crowds too well.

logan’s dressed in a very impressive le petit prince costume - it’s so good, it might as well be a full on cosplay. (virgil definitely isn’t swooning, what?) logan sticks close to the edges of rooms, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else.

(in, for example, virgil’s arms, on the dance floor, swaying to a slow song.)

virgil is dressed as jack skellington and declan in a creepily accurate oogie boogie - everywhere he goes, plastic insects fall out of his costume. patton’s shrieks of terror at seeing the fake spiders keeps startling the party guests.

eventually - totally not by plan or anything - logan and virgil end up in the backyard together, on the old wooden swing bench on the porch. it’s nearing midnight and the crickets are chirping and there’s an owl hooting nearby somewhere. the moon is obscured on this cloudy night.

virgil thinks it’s perfectly spooky and atmospheric

logan doesn’t need to see the stars in the sky when they’re sparkling so brightly in virgil’s eyes

logan’s feet barely reach the floor and so virgil uses his heel to push them back and forth. thankfully, both of their costumes keep them warm enough in the chilly fall weather. (though they, of course, could always do to be a little bit warmer.)

virgil’s breathing is measured and it’s super obvious he’s counting them in his head. logan scoots closer and lays a hand over virgil’s. his breath hitches.

“there is something i would like to tell you,” logan begins.

the record scratch in virgil’s head sounds loud enough that everyone at the party should be able to hear it

“for the… last couple of years, i have harb-”

“hold on,” virgil interrupts, loud and sudden. “hold - wait a seco - there’s no way you’re -”

logan normally finds all manners of virgil’s speech patterns endearing but right about now, logan has a finite amount of courage and it is quickly running out

“- going to tell me right now-”

“of course i love you.”

virgil’s jaw promptly snaps shut

(he’s been working so hard on this and all this time??????)

virgil isn’t really aware of the high-pitched noise he’s making until logan reaches out and firmly presses a hand over his mouth.

“it is my fault that you have not known it all the while,”

(and the way logan says it, like a treasured line from a fairytale. virgil’s sure he’d recognize it if he could think at all.)

“i understand if you do not reciprocate these feelings and i apologize if i have made you uncomfortable with my confession,” logan is saying now while virgil’s still working on rebooting. logan lowers his hand. “i hope that this will not negatively impact our friendship. i care deeply for you and-”

virgil’s systems spark back to life and he interrupts again, this time with a short bark of laughter.

“l, oh my god, no offense, but i’ve been building up to this night for months and you just-” he has to pause to stifle his laughter. he’s equal parts giddy because logan likes him back and frustrated because logan’s liked him back for years and neither of them had done anything about it until now.

logan looks confused.

virgil wants nothing more than to kiss him.

“i’m in love with you” bulldozes over his brain-to-mouth filter instead

logan looks confused, elated, overwhelmed, stunning, he blushes so prettily, virgil thinks, and all of his practice must pay off, because the next move he makes is easy.

at some point, they’d turned towards each other. virgil’s hand cups logan’s face. leaning closer, virgil’s gaze lowers to logan’s lips, and then back up. who knew eye contact alone could be this electrifying?

“can i kiss you?” virgil murmurs.

“i can’t think of anything i’d like more,” logan responds.

(back in the house, declan grumpily shoves a twenty dollar bill into roman’s hands.)

a week and a half later will find virgil and logan in matching costumes. for their shared interest in astronomy, they’ve lowkey always been called the “starlight gays” amongst their friends, and their costumes certainly help solidify it.

logan is wearing dark jeans and a navy button down. with roman’s help, he’s lit up like the night sky; led lights form constellations that, if asked, logan will explain in a heart beat. from his shoulders trails a glittering black cape that catches the light just right (it’s impractical for trick or treating but the way virgil keeps wrapping himself up in it, snuggling close to logan’s side… well)

virgil’s the opposite in whites and greys, though he’s glowing as well, a near match to the full moon in the sky. he seems exceptionally pleased with the makeup he’s done for the costume, silver and blue and sparkling.

(they look like they should be at a con, honestly, instead of out for one night collecting candy, but it’s cute, and that’s all that matters)

and of course, they live happily ever after

(with only the slightest of teasing for the rest of their lives about their slow burn romance)

#analogical #romantic analogical #analogical fan fiction #brotherly prinxiety #sanders sides fan fiction #qpr losleep #brotherly moceit #romantic royality #human au #dani writes #blink #HBD DARLING I LOVE YOU!!

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ahgaseda · 6 years ago

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leave the heels on | jackson (got7) drabble

↣ info: smut, explicit

It began as a stupid little fight.

Curled on your side of the bed, you glanced at the clock one more time. It was well past three in the morning and Jackson still wasn’t home. Batting your eyes tiredly, you were finally ready to drift off to sleep, rehearsing the vengeful speech you would give Jackson in the morning.

Then, you heard a car door close. Not long after, Jackson crept quietly into the bedroom, settled on his side of the bed, and went to sleep.

Now, you were seething.

The next morning, you sat at the kitchen table and ate your cereal in silence. When Jackson finally emerged from the bedroom, he dutifully moved to your side, planted a sweet kiss on your cheek, and greeted, “Good morning.”

“What time did you get in last night?” you asked softly.

Jackson hesitated. You didn’t approve of him working late and rather than listen to your disappointment that he was pushing himself too much again, he fibbed, “Around twelve thirty.”

“Ah,” you replied and by your tone, Jackson knew he was fucked.

Everything went downhill from there.

You were mad at him for lying. He was annoyed that you began ignoring him. You got angry when he didn’t apologize. He grew furious with you for blowing the situation out of proportion.

After one rather loud - and extremely petty - fight, Jackson found himself sleeping on the couch.

Your relationship with Jackson was defined by passion. The two of you couldn’t keep your hands off of each other and affection was constant. But you both had another thing in common; you were stubborn as hell.

A few days in and Jackson was losing his fucking mind. You had never looked so damn good and he was hard as a rock. But if you thought he was going to give in and forsake his pride, you had another thing coming.

Meanwhile, you were desperate for physical contact. Jackson always had his hands on you, showering you with his love and affection throughout the day, but bringing you pleasure and release at night. You were getting neither at the moment and your patience was wearing thin.

So you did what any mature girl would do - you upped the ante.

Jackson sat on the couch, which was laden with blankets and pillows from his restless nights, and watched the television with disinterest. He had just returned from the gym, sweaty and frustrated. As it turned out, exercise did little to help the raging erection in his pants.

Stepping out of the bedroom, you made for the kitchen. Hearing a loud click with your steps instead of the usual pitter-patter of bare feet, Jackson glanced up and both mind and body stopped their functions.

You wore his white dress shirt and nothing else underneath. Fastening only a single button halfway down, you left bare minimum to the imagination and topped off the tease with a pair of red high heels.

Jackson watched your every move, fixated on you like his life depended on it. You, on the other hand, paid him no mind as you approached the counter and bent over to sift for a snack.

“Fuck me,” Jackson growled under his breath. Your lower lips looked wet and inviting, and Jackson’s cock promptly twitched at the sight.

Rising with no snack in hand, you turned around, put a hand on your hip, and asked, “What was that?”

Jackson met your eyes and he had never looked so conflicted. Damn it, he didn’t want to let you win, but for fuck’s sake, he needed to be inside that hot, tight cunt.

“Bend over again,” your boyfriend finally said, bitter. “So I can at least look at it.”

You chuckled, but you also bristled with your own frustration. Were you really that easy to resist? Swaying your hips, you pressed, “Why don’t you just apologize? And then you can touch it.”

Jackson made a noise. It sounded so simple, but his bull-headed pride smacked him over the head.

You went in for the kill, lifting up the shirt just barely and arching your ass into the air. “I’m so wet for you, baby. Think about how that thick dick could slide right in…”

Jackson realized by the tremble in your voice and the glistening arousal on your pussy that you were hornier than a bitch in heat. This misery wasn’t one-sided, after all; it was well in good company.

Standing from the couch, Jackson pulled off his shirt at the speed of light and dropped his gym shorts, approaching you naked as the day he was born. You grinned victoriously, raking your tongue over your teeth at his hard cock curving toward his abs.

“Say it,” you hissed.

“I’m sorry I lied to you,” Jackson deadpanned, grabbing you none too gently and hoisting you onto the kitchen counter.

You chuckled a little too smugly and your boyfriend pushed a hand squarely between your breasts and shoved you onto the flat of your back. His fingers were at your shirt next, ripping the material impatiently to finally get a glimpse of your beautiful naked body.

“Leave the heels on, baby,” Jackson ordered gruffly, guiding your legs around his waist. “Just the heels though.”

Pulling off the torn remains of his shirt, you were about to make a smartass remark, basking in your victory, when your lips fell open as he pushed his cock deep past your slick folds. The moment he bottomed out, Jackson pulled back until only the tip was still inside and smacked his hips into yours. Over and over, he pounded his length into you, wanting you to feel every thick inch of him penetrating you.

“Fuck,” you cried out, trying to find somewhere on the counter to brace your hands. You had never felt so full, your pussy fitting snugly around him like a glove. Your walls tightened even more with satisfaction and your partner let out a throaty groan.

Jackson shifted his hands to drape leisurely on your thighs, your ankles crossed over his lower back and those red heels digging against his ass exactly how he liked it. He kept his thrusts rough, not concerned with speed, and as your face contorted with pleasure and frustration, Jackson growled, “Say it.”

“I’m sorry too,” you whimpered, your breasts bouncing with every smack of his hips into yours.

Jackson smirked. Then he roamed his palms up your thighs and to your waist, getting a firmer hold as he sped up his pace and drilled you both toward the edge.

Hey there, beautiful! If you enjoyed this, please leave a like or reblog or follow me! Or maybe buy me a coffee so I can keep writing? Or check out my masterlist here for more stories! Thanks for reading :) - Katya

This work is fictional and for entertainment purposes only, but is licensed and protected under a creative commons attribution-noncommercial-noderivatives 4.0 international license. Any instances of plagiarism will be dealt with accordingly. Do not re-post or translate without my permission.

#mine:drabbles #got7 smut #jackson smut #jackson wang smut #kpop smut #jackson wang imagines #got7 imagines

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raisingsupergirl · 4 years ago

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Do You See My God?

So, I know this woman. She's a hard-nosed, Bible-thumping Christian, and, we'll say… opinionated. She's the type who sees the world a certain way, forsakes all others, and lives by the all-inclusive mantra, "Everyone is free to have their own opinions, but they're wrong." In general, I enjoy talking to her because she's intelligent, purposeful, and passionate. But I made a mistake the other day. I said, "I have this friend who's Calvinist." She looked at me, smiled, and said, "Well, now you have two." Crap.

As you would expect, she went into a lengthy monologue about her earlier years of ignorance, her frustration and desperation over rectifying the true heart of God—over whether He pre-determines who will find salvation or if we have free will to do so. I smiled and nodded, but it didn't seem to be enough. I had to see it her way. I had to see the light of truth. And so, the next time I ran into her, she handed me a book on the topic, worn with use and filled with her own personal notes. No, I didn't have to read it right now. I could take my time and get it back to her whenever. And when I did finish it, I would no doubt see things her way because it was the right way, and I was a smart young man. Ha! Shows what she knows. I've been avoiding absolute truths for as long as I can remember.

It's not that I don't value understanding. I absolutely love it. I seek it every day, deeply and earnestly. I love research and contemplation and healthy conversation. It's just that my happiness isn't tied to knowing absolute truth. Why? Because, like Plato and Socrates before him, I'm acutely aware of how ignorant I am. I realize that my every outlook and belief is an amalgam of past experiences, emotions, and mental faculties, right down to things like my body type, birth order, and attention span. For instance, I'm a non-denominational Christian with strong Southern Baptist roots because I grew up in central Missouri in a Southern Baptist church that taught me to love God but to hate legalism and hypocrisy (the hard way). I believe in free will not because of the dozen or so times I've read through the Bible, or because of my years of extra-Biblical study, or because I have a hard time wrapping my mind around a loving God who would pre-select some for salvation and others for damnation (though all of those things certainly play their part), but because I, myself have a spirit of independence. Free will is who I am. I follow the breeze and relish all of life's new experiences with an open mind. I believe in free will because it's how I see the world, though I don't need it to exist for me to be happy (since I at least have a blissfully ignorant perception of it). But that's just me. Other people, like my friend the Calvinist, need rules. They need to know the truth, even if it's not really the truth. And it's these people who have polarized our country to the brink of distraction (I meant to write "destruction," but somehow the autocorrected "distraction" is just as appropriate, so I'm leaving it).

It's not wrong to have an opinion. It's not even wrong to have a strong opinion. But to hold a truth so tightly that you strangle all other possibility will never lead to growth or freedom. And if enough people share that approach, you get only oppression and, ironically, the death of the one thing those people desired—truth. Though, if I'm being honest, I don't believe it's actually truth that absolutists seek. It's power. Contention. Grandeur. Conquest. And I believe it comes from a place of insecurity, fear, and desperation. But, of course I don't dare say that to their faces because I have better things to do than listen to their fuming rebuttals.

Of course, it seems like I've just demonized anyone who holds a firm belief on anything, but that wasn't my intention. It's only when beliefs are taken to the extreme and combined with negative emotions and intentions that the outcome is disastrous. As I said before, there's no inherently wrong starting point to forming our individual beliefs. We are products of our own multi-faceted and infinitely complex lives up until this very point. It's this variety that gives flavor to the human experience. Some ultimate truths are pretty simple: Never shake a baby out of anger or frustration. Don't wear white after Labor Day. If it's yellow, let it mellow; if it's brown, flush it down. You know, the obvious stuff that no one's going to argue about. But most things have room for debate. Is there a "right" answer to most things? Absolutely. Can anyone choose correctly regarding all things? Absolutely not (except Jesus Christ, though I guess that's just my opinion). And that's why we all need to practice grace and patience. There's nothing wrong with standing up for what's "right," but when we start approaching every topic with a, "Condemn first, ask questions never," attitude, we're doomed, and we probably deserve it.

I read The God Delusion by Richard Dawkins a few years back, and it was an extremely depressing book. It wasn't depressing because of the subject matter but because Dawkins made it clear that he despised Christians for the harm they had caused him in the past. Most atheists don't rally behind him because his biologist background didn't set him up to intelligently present most of his arguments, but to me, it was his inner pain that disqualified him. And it's the same with my Calvinist friend who gave me the "life-changing" book. She's had struggled in the past because of a traumatic event that she couldn't forgive herself for. And because of that, she needed something to take that guilt away from her, and Calvinism may have very well saved her life. But that doesn't mean it's correct. An invaluable belief for some? Sure. But, conversely, it could crush the spirit of others (like me). And that's the way it is with a lot of things: religion, politics, snack preferences. Even the Bible’s New Testament shows us multiple viewpoints and insights on the same Christ. It’s okay to see things a little differently than your brother or sister. Life's complexity is simultaneously the greatest source of its beauty and its suffering. We can either embrace it or drown in it.

Personally, I think we all have the freedom to make that choice, and that freedom sets me free. Then again, I could be wrong. And I'm okay with that.

Interesting addendum: While trying to tag this blog post in Tumblr, it turns out that “religion” is an unavailable hashtag. Hooray for censorship! Maybe free will is an illusion, after all...

#free will #calvinism #predetermination #religion #freedom of choice #unpopular opinion #WhyIsntReligionAnAvailableHashtag?#momblr #mumblr #dadblr

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lothirielswanmarvel · 5 years ago

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Chapter 1 of Avengers: Love and Lightning

Love interest: Thor (+ a Peter Quill love triangle later introduced in the series)

“Vision, what's next on the list?”

“Blueberries, sir—boss—tiny man with lots of money,” Vision stuttered as we walked on the aisle. Tony Stark, famous billionaire and world-saver, sat in the shopping cart that I pushed, munching on an open box of pocky.

“Tiny Man better not squish my M&Ms,” Rhodey muttered. Every now and then, Rhodey would reach out and steady himself against the edge of the cart. The metal casts that encased his legs were bulky, and I couldn't imagine how irritating they were. I noticed Vision wince every time Rhodey stopped to gather himself.

I sighed. My family had gone through a divorce recently (and you can imagine how crappy that was, given Director Nick Fury was practically the priest that united the match). The Avengers had separated, leaving all parties in broken pieces. All of the people I cared about in my incredibly tiny yet fulfilling social circle were in pain. How was someone like me, an introvert with zero superpowers, supposed to fix that?

“Oh! Can we pick up some cucumbers?” Shuri asked. Her voice was light and had a hint of an accent to it. She wore bright colors and had a chipper air to her. Sometimes, I swore she was a character from an anime brought to life.

“No,” T’Challa said sternly.

Our group took up the entire aisle, and as we slowly inched towards the end, I daydreamed about the book I had stashed under my bed in the Compound. But I forced myself out of my comfort zone, more than a regular amount: I felt like they needed me. And I honestly cared too much to forsake any of the Avengers right now.

“Ms. Angie, can I have some cucumbers please?” Shuri turned to me with a polite smile on her face.

I blinked. “You’re the princess of an entire continent. I'm pretty sure I have no say here.”

“Sure you do, Ms. Angie,” Peter Parker, another random kid that Tony adopted off the street, raced up to our party. He stuffed a bunch of doughnuts in our cart. Tony nodded his approval, “ ‘Atta boy. Now go steal the bananas by the ‘kids get free snacks’ sign.”

“Don't listen to him, Peter. Tony can go by himself,” I said. “And what do you mean, I have a say?”

Peter shrugged. “Well, you’re an adult, right? You’re old enough to drink, that's pretty old.”

I stopped pushing the cart abruptly and gaped at Tiny Man 2.0. “Wait, hold on a minute, did you just call me old?”

“You read books all the time,” Shuri replied.

“You always prefer your free time in solitude,” Vision interjected.

“And you look…” Peter trailed off as he studied my face. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Tony making cutting motions with his hands.

“You look, uh,” Peter swallowed. “You look really young. I mean, you dated Thor and he's like a thousand years old. You're practically dating the elderly.”

“Woah, that is not cool, man,” Rhodey shook his head.

“We need to work on how you talk to women,” Tony told Parker. Then he turned in the cart to glance at me, and cowered behind a jar of Nutella. In the background, T’Challa started hitting his head on a box of cereal.

I sucked in a breath as I processed all of this information. “Okay, a few points to be made here: I am a young woman in the prime of my life.”

“Who radiates youth and beauty,” T’Challa offered.

I continued, trying not to blush, “Right...er, thanks. Number two: I never dated Thor. If I wanted to date the elderly, I’d call up Bucky in Wakanda. Last thing,”

I stared down Vision, Peter, Shuri, and Tony. “if I am the adult, that means you are the child.”

I continued down the aisle, tugging Tony along in the cart. “Rhodey, pick up some Minute Maid juice boxes for the kids.”

“But I like Juicy Juice more…” Parker whined.

“Tough!” I turned around the corner, and crashed carts with someone. I winced at the sound. Tony squirmed in the metal basket, “Hey—oh, they visited the liquor section.”

Tony reached out to steal the pack of beer and yelped when three long blades came before his hand.

“I’m so sorry! Hi, Logan,” I said, facing most of the staff of the X-Men. Professor Charles Xavier was sitting in the cart, giving Tony a disapproving look. Erik Lensherr pushed the cart without even touching the handle, who offered an unfriendly sneer to Vision. Hank McCoy was nearby, studying the shopping list. Sometimes he glanced up at me and quickly looked back down at the slip of paper.

“Our deepest apologies, Ms. Green,” Charles wore a friendly smile when he met my gaze. “Do excuse us. Mister Wade Wilson has been draining our supply of snacks for the students, so we’re here to pick up more biscuits.”

“That's british for crackers,” Hank McCoy translated.

“They don't need to know our life story, bub,” Logan grunted.

“Right. We must be off,” Charles waved as his cart started moving by itself. “Good day to you, Avengers.”

Erik sneered at Vision as they passed. “Next time you touch my daughter, remember: I can control metal.”

The group marched off to raise havoc in the bakery department.

“The other side of the pond is crazy,” Rhodey remarked, watching them go.

Tony held up a beer in victory, “Ugh, why is this warm? We’re getting some Aviation American Gin.”

I started pushing Tony again. Both him and the doughnuts had some weight to them. “No alcohol around kids.”

“But mom!”

“No dice,” I said. Our group kept walking. My mind wandered back to what Peter mentioned: he thought Thor and I were dating. We were intimate—I mean, we were close, not in a romantic way, but...he always came up to me first when he returned to Earth. Thor sent me exotic flowers from Asgard sometimes, when he was away—he called me his “earthen goddess” on the tag, and it always made me feel all warm and tingly.

Thor and I had struck up a system while he was away, too: to make sure he was alive, we sent letters through Heimdall for each other. I felt bad bothering the poor Watcher of the Nine Realms, but at least I knew Thor was okay. He was off doing space stuff, and I did my earth stuff: I just...I missed him sometimes.

Only when fiery sparks filled the air did I return to reality (only Thor could make me forget what planet I was on). Doctor Stephen Strange appeared before us.

“Hey,” I was the first to recognize him. I probably knew him better than everyone else; my health history wasn't...pristine.

Tony stuck his tongue out at him like a five year-old. “What, you got tired of your blue telephone box?”

Peter and Shuri gasped. “Can I be your companion?”

“I asked first! I got dibs! Ha!”

“No fair! You didn't even get your Hogwarts letter!”

Stephen smirked, and despite Tony, leaned on the front of the cart, holding my gaze. “Hello. Food shopping with the family?”

“And pursuing other condiments, including feminine hygiene products and alcoholic beverages,” Vision added.

I plastered a smile on my face. “Just an ordinary day living among superheroes. Very boring.”

Shuri nodded vigorously. “It's true! All Ms. Angie does is sit on the couch and play video games and cry over made-up people. There is nothing interesting going on in her life.”

I gripped the handle to the cart tightly, silently vowing never to have children. Stephen’s cheekbones were sharp and taut like they were held up by internal wiring. He had a regalness to him. I was one of the few around that he actually joked with, “I disagree. I think there are plenty of interesting things about you.”

I made a face at him, wondering if this was a hint to a new health crisis—or even worse—an attempt to flirt with me. Suddenly T’Challa was right next to me. “What is your motive in this visit, Strange? Perhaps you have run out of money, and cannot afford basic necessities.”

I groaned at the two of them. “Please play nice. I think I’ve finally reached the temptation to buy Aviation American Gin. Tony, direct me.”

“Yay!” Tony pointed Logan’s stolen beer bottle towards the end of the aisle. I followed my soon to-be tipsy compass.

Stephen still lingered in our group. I glanced over at him, “If there’s anything you’d like…”

“I wouldn't want to impose,” He said.

“Angeline, I think you are too kind to the misfortunate,” T’Challa mused.

“Guys, please. I get enough bickering as it is: I'm surrounded by four kids,” I motioned again across our group. “Let’s just be nice, and enjoy Tony’s black card.”

We reached the end of the aisle and a curse flew from my mouth. I crashed carts with someone else.

“I'm so sorry—” I trailed off when I looked up at the person.

“Intruders!” Scott Lang raised his nerf gun from his seat in the shopping cart. “Make way, people! It's the White Jets to our Latino Sharks!”

Steve Rogers sighed. “Scott, you have to stop watching musicals with Cassie.”

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anoutlandishfanfic · 6 years ago

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SOM AU: Part Eleven: Not While I’m Around

You can find previous chapters here.

June 17th, 2016 Lallybroch. Claire

“What did you do?”

“Where did you eat?”

“Did you miss us terribly?!”

A chorus of excited questions swirled around Jamie and I the moment we stepped onto the terrace, forcing me to set aside the worries over my husband’s military orders for a moment or two. Maggie and Joan nearly tackled me in their attempt to welcome me at the same time and a laugh burst from my lips, much to my own surprise.

Maybe there would be a way to stay together.

“Mama Claire! Mama Claire!” Maggie tugged at my arm and I swept her up into my arms, my heart singing. She rested her head on my shoulder with a contented sigh, commenting, “I like calling you mama.”

“And I like hearing it,” I murmured past a lump in my throat, smiling down at her and the joyous faces of my children. It was official now and they were finally mine. They all pressed against each other and leaned into me, all trying to occupy the same space. Swallowing hard, I inquired, “What have you been up to while we were gone?”

Little Joan answered, beaming up at me as she held onto a fistful of my skirt, “We’ve been practicing!”

“Have you?” My brows rose in surprise, “What have you been practicing, love?”

“Our songs for the concert!”

“The what?” Jamie’s voice now added to the clamor. It was just at this moment that Ian entered the terrace, his approach masked by the children’s uproar, and Jamie turned to his closest friend and brother-in-law with a wry sort of grimace. “I suppose this is your doing.”

Ian grinned, placing a hand on my elbow in welcome, “On the contrary! Mother Hildegard had recruited them long before I had a chance to. Why didn’t you tell me they had such lovely voices, Jamie? That song they sang at the wedding was absolutely angelic.”

“Mother Hildegard?” Jamie’s gaze now turned to me.

In the busyness of planning the wedding, I’d completely forgotten about L’Hopital’s annual benefit, which was always the eighteenth of June.

“But that’s tomorrow!” I exclaimed, my stomach clenching.

“Delightful timing, isn’t it?” Ian’s eyes took on an impish gleam as he winked at me. “They’ve everything they need and they already know the songs. Just think of it! They’ll be the grand finale! Seven children in one family… and now they’re the heart’s delight of one of L’Orphelinat very own! A happy ending, if there ever was one.”

“No,” Jamie shook his head, his voice firm, prompting an uprising of dismay from the children. “They willna be singing tomorrow.”

“Oh, but we’ve been practicing all day, Father!” Marsali wailed.

He silenced her with a look, then, gesturing towards the house with a jerk of his head, asked of Ian, “A word with ye, aye?”

Ian registered my drawn features for the first time and nodded solemnly, following Jamie back the way we’d come. Ellen picked up on the growing tension and met my gaze, her eyebrows furrowing in a silent question she’d been raised not to ask aloud.

What’s going on?

I gave her a weak smile in answer and she nudged Brian who, always hungry, suggested we find a snack.

“It’s nearly time for dinner, sweet,” I reminded him. “But that’s not a half bad idea. Why don’t you all get cleaned up and then maybe you can show me what you’ve been working on.”

They all readily agreed to this and we set off together towards the house.

…

I found the men in the library, sharing a healthy dram of whiskey as they hatched a plan… one I refused to enact.

“No,” I stated defiantly as they tried to convince me of its merits. “We are not remaining behind.”

“I have to go,” Jamie wearily tried to explain, his hand reaching out pleadingly for mine.

I took it instantly to stem any further justification for splitting up the family, as well as out of an urgent need to touch him, to be near him.

“I know, but that doesn’t mean we can’t go with you.”

He shook his head. “That would only place you and the children in danger. It’s me he wants.”

“I very much doubt that,” my throat constricted as I thought of the man who had stood before me not an hour before. “He won’t stop until he has the both of us back under his control and you know it.”

I felt Jamie flinch, his visceral reaction a jolt of fear running from his body into mine. He must have caught the tone of near panic in my voice, for pulled me closer and onto his lap.

“Aye, I ken it well,” he murmured into my neck as I held onto him tightly, “but you are safest here at home.”

“You are my home.”

I slid my eyes shut as he leaned back into the deep, leather chair with a heavy sigh, taking me with him.

“Sorcha…”

“Don’t ask me to forsake my vow to you, James Fraser,” I pleaded, pressing hips against him, my hand over his heart. His pulse was erratic as mine was, but we both slowed into sync as I murmured, “Where you go, I will go and where you stay, I will stay. Your people will be my people and your God, my God. Where you die, I will die and there I will be buried…”

I won’t let even death separate you from me.

“Be it so,” Jamie finished when I could not, his voice low with a sincerity and earnestness that came from deep within his heart, “or may the Lord punish me greatly.”

He kissed me then, taking the very breath from my lungs. I didn’t know what it would mean, or where we would go, but it would be together… or not at all.

A delicate cough came from the room’s only other occupant and yanked us from our reverie.

“If we can get you to France,” Ian interrupted, a wide grin on his face with a hint of moisture in his eyes, “I think we might be able to pull it off.”

…

Dinner was a tense and solemn affair, even with Ian present. The children all knew something was afoot and it made them revert to all of the habits I’d worked so hard to break them of. Brian egged Marsali on to the point of armageddon, which set Ellen on their case and made her snap at Maggie for spilling her milk, which in turn ruffled Willie’s feathers and promptly sent Joan into a fit of nervous tears.

Seeing that they were all to the point of near hysterics, I suggested, “I think it might be time for me to take the children upstairs, Jamie.”

He looked up absently from his food and nodded, silently dismissing us all from the table before returning to his meal. How he had any appetite at all was beyond me. I gladly left my plate behind in favor of the sanctuary of the children’s rooms. We all filed out and made our way to the stairs as quickly as possible, none of us wanting to linger in the room where stiff formalities and unspoken dangers hovered near.

Teeth were brushed and faces washed in the usual efficiency, but once in their pajamas, all sense of normalcy evaporated. Maggie took hold of my hand as I tried to leave their room to check on the boys, digging in her heels and forcing me to stop dead in my tracks.

“I don’t want you to go!”

I looked down at her in concern, “I’m not going anywhere, love. Just stepping across the hall for a moment. I’ll come right back to read you a story.”

“No!” she dissolved into tears on the spot.

Alarmed, I caught sight of Marsali standing in the doorway, looking very much like she was ready to go to war with the entire world. Her hair free of its usual bonds and her arms crossed firmly, she was a force to be reckoned with.

“What’s going on?” I swallowed hard as I picked up the wailing four year old and asked of her sister, “What’s wrong?”

My fears raced ahead of me, imagining the worst had happened while Jamie and I were way… and Randall was here.

“Father got his orders, didn’t he?” Marsali jaw clenched as she tipped it up in defiance.

My heart sank as I remembered that this had happened to them several times before. Jamie would receive word and be gone for months at a time, returning without warning and often in a mood that the children dreaded. He’d be dissatisfied with anything and everything they did and the smallest things could send him into a funk that would last days on end.

I nodded and Joan joined Maggie in her tears. I hadn’t a clue as to what to say. Jamie and I hadn’t discussed how much of our plan we’d tell the children and I could never lie to them.

The truth in its simplest form would be my assurance.

Sinking to my knees and reaching out to her, Joanie ran to me. Marsali was slow to follow, but follow she did, and I soon had all three of them in my embrace. Knowing without looking that Ellen, Jenny, Willie, and Brian had taken their place in the doorway. I spoke softly, but confidently.

“We will stay together.”

…

Jamie met me in the hallway. His eyes came alive as I padded softly out of Joan and Maggie’s room.

“Asleep?”

“Mmm,” one corner of my mouth lifted in a tired smile, “only just.”

He stepped forward and swept me up off of my feet, into his arms. It took me by surprise but I didn’t object, choosing instead to bury my face in his neck and melt into him. The bergamot and amber of his cologne mingled with a deeper, richer scent that I could only describe as his and I sighed as the balm of his nearness permeated into the core of my very soul.

We moved silently down the hallway and my pulse quickened as I realized we were headed to the master bedroom. My head knew that I would not be returning to my own room, which was on the other end of the wing, and that my belongings were now arranged with his, but my heart hadn’t quite fully realized just what exactly what this would all mean.

Our room.

Jamie paused and shifted me slightly as he turned the knob and nudged the door open. This accomplished, he looked down at me.

“Come to bed with me?” he murmured, a low hush that matched the desire in his eyes.

My lips hovered above his, my breath catching as warmth began to spread across my cheeks.

“To bed… or to sleep?”

A low chuckle rumbled through him and I had my answer. He eased us into the room, turning so I could shut the door with my feet. The click of the latch sent a thrill through me and I felt it’s echo in Jamie, a magnetic sensation that drew his lips to mine. We met with an electrical shock that ignited something within me that I hadn’t experienced the night before.

I had wanted him then, but I needed him now.

I opened my mouth to his and pulled him closer, my fingers grasping at the nape of his neck. This primal, overwhelming hunger for him was as exhilarating as it was foreign, a sensation unknown and one I eagerly submitted to. Jamie turned me in his arms and the floodgates opened as I felt the bed materialize beneath me. My back arched, my hips searching for his as I tugged at the hem of my dress, easing it from between us. His trousers now shed, Jamie climbed onto the the bed with a low groan and ushered me into the center of the enormous mattress. He kissed my neck, a quiver of delight running through him as he realized I wasn’t wearing anything to hinder him beneath the crumpled folds of my cotton sundress.

“Why, Mrs Fraser,” he purred, “I believe you’ve forgotten something.”

I sighed as he settled his weight onto his elbows, “On the contrary, it was intentional.”

He lifted his head, his eyes bright with laughter as he moved to brush a stray curl out of my eyes, but suddenly froze. His brow furrowed as he slowly reached out his hand to pluck something out from between the pillows. He instantly dropped it onto the bed like a hot coal and yanked me away from it, nearly dislocating my shoulder in the process. I cried out in pain and frustration, confused as to why he’d do such a thing, but then I saw — and smelled — what he had.

It was a lace sachet of lavender.

My stomach rolled and my head spun at the fragrance as I scrambled right over the edge of the bed and onto the floor. Jamie was at my side in an instant, but it wasn’t him that I felt when he placed a hand on my arm. I jerked free, digging my heels into the plush carpet as I recoiled, moving a full body’s length away from him before I even realized what I was doing. I shook my head, trying to find my real surroundings amid the mirage around me. I kept moving, sliding my back along the solid framework of the wall until Jamie stopped me.

His bulk kept me from smashing into a large, wooden trunk, but his touch didn’t linger as he demanded, “Tell me what you see, Sorcha.”

My heart beat wildly in my chest and I could hardly breathe, let alone speak. I shook my head desperately, but he insisted.

Tell me what you can see.

I saw my quarters on base.

I saw the supply closet shelves.

I saw the stark, white walls of the exam room.

I saw nothing at all.

“No,” I choked out.

Jamie moved closer, his warm, solid presence bumping against my legs as I hugged them tightly to my chest. His chin settled on my knees, his nose barely an inch from mine. I blinked once, twice, and tried to focus on the face before me instead of the one ingrained in my memory.

“What do you see, a nighean?”

I swallowed hard, hiccuping, “You.”

“Good,” he crooned. “What do you feel?”

My hands and feet were numb as I sat there, gasping for air. I moved them slowly and tried to regain some semblance of tactile function, but had very little success. Jamie took hold of my hands, bringing them to his lips, clasping them against his heart.

“What can you feel?”

His heart beat beneath my palm, it's rhythm quick but sure. Each pulse came at steady intervals and tugged at mine to do the same, guiding me out of my abject terror and into a hazy fog of disorientation.

“You,” I gulped, tramping down the urge to pull away and tried to mimic his patterns of inhaling and exhaling. I let out a shuddering sigh as he pulled me into his arms, cradling me gently against his chest.

“What do you smell?” came his next question and I was calm enough now to know what he was doing.

He was grounding me.

I’d witnessed the technique in triage, but never thought to use it myself. With each sense, he was pulling me away from the chaos inside my head and securing me to something that was not connected to my demons. He became my anchor, the point to fixate on as I fought to regain control of my body.

“That bloody lavender.”

He flinched and I knew it’d had a similar effect on him, though he’d managed to keep his wits about him.

“Tis gone,” he assured me hastily, his thumb gently stroking my cheek, “I threw it out the window.”

Good.

“He was here,” I murmured rather unnecessarily. “In our home — in our room, Jamie — and he’ll be back tomorrow to make sure you report, I know it.”

His arms tightened around me, “Aye, mo chridhe.”

“Do you think the plan will work?”

“It must,” he vowed, “for I willna let him have his way.”

Pressing my cheek against his chest, I tried to find Jamie’s usual warmth. His body temperature was always higher than mine it seemed, but we were both chilled to the point of trembling just now, our hearts cold at the prospect of facing our attacker once again.

“You’re shivering,” Jamie mumbled into my neck, his lips cold against my skin.

“You aren’t much warmer.”

He managed a smile as he brought the both of us to our feet, leading me around the bed and through an enormous closet. His head turned to scan the clothing as we passed and he paused only a moment to whisk two plush robes from their place. An open doorway brought us into the biggest bathroom I’d ever seen. It boasted a full sized tub, next to which he deposited the robes. To call it a bathtub really wasn’t doing it justice, for it was nearly as large as a swimming pool.

Jamie perched me on the edge of it as he let go of my hand for only a moment, flicking on the water and pouring in a healthy amount of soap from a small vial as he did so. I steeled myself, knowing that most bath soaps contained at least a hint lavender, but was completely undone by the overwhelmingly soothing scent of chamomile and honey instead.

He brought me back up to my feet and began to unbutton my dress, slipping the sleeves over my shoulders and pulling his own shirt up over his head. Jamie’s hands slid over my hips, pulling me close for a kiss that began to loosen every knot inside of me. We came apart only long enough to step into the tub and lowered as one into the rising water.

I climbed onto his lap once he’d moved into a comfortable position and his strong arms wrapped around me, not allowing for even a breath of space to come between us.

“Warmer or cooler, a nighean?”

“Warmer,” I murmured, my lips brushing against his neck as I pressed my cheek against his broad shoulder.

He reached out and adjusted the water’s temperature, guiding it into perfection before taking something from the array of bottles on the side of the tub. I heard him squeeze some of the contents into his hands and warm it between them. Gently massaging it into my skin, he started at my shoulders and slowly worked his way down my back. I relaxed under his touch and the thick scent of honey coated my senses. The safe, sweet fragrance lulled me into contented haze as Jamie turned off the water and a hush fell over the room. I slowly lifted my head and found his lips once more, the heat of his touch as intense as that of the water surrounding me. My arms slid from his shoulders, my hands traveling across his pectorals and around his ribs to pull him tighter against me.

“Sorcha,” he murmured. His gaze was as protective as it was passionate, his blue eyes fierce with a strength of will that attacked the strongholds of fear in my heart. “You’re safe.”

“For now,” I whispered hesitantly, the fog of suspended time thick around my head.

Jamie’s hands rose from the water to frame my face, his warm palms pressing against my cheeks. “No’ just for now, mo nighean donn… for always, I give you my word.”

A shiver ran down my spine as I shook my head slowly. He meant what he’d said and would protect the children and I at the cost of his life, I knew, but none of us were safe as long as Jack Randall was alive. It didn’t matter where we went or what we’d planned to do. From the dawn of tomorrow on, we were in danger.

“Randall willna hurt you again,” he vowed, nuzzling my ear and stilling my movements.

“No’ while I’m around, mo chridhe.”

#Outlander #outlander fanfic #sound of music au #som au #part eleven #not while i'm around

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asheninks · 7 years ago

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Okay so now that I’ve had food and sleep, it is time to revisit this post. Naturally, everything is under the cut. I tried to put things into some sort of chronological order but I probably failed.

Spoilers for both Dead Apple and the Stray Dogs anime itself ahead.

Proceed with caution ye who enter here.

Okay, first off: Odasaku showing up in the opening minutes. I was not surprised by this, or by him picking the kid up (was that Sakura? Looked like Sakura to me,) what surprised me was the audible, squeak-gasps from behind us in the theatre. Followed by the pained cries when the grave-marker was revealed, and when Oda’s death was rehashed. Apparently we were among Oda fans, which is fine.

Chuuya. Could not tell if that bike was bright pink or bright purple, but either way of course the tiny red-headed hell-raiser would have that gaudy of a bike. Of course he would also almost immediately total it, partially out of the sheer need to be dramatic.

Dazai is incredibly bendy. I already knew this, but that kick to the jaw was no small feat all the same. Side-note: Do cuffs ever work on Dazai? Because I’ve yet to see a pair not just instantly fall off his scrawny wrists.

The fact that Atsushi is now more concerned about Kunikida yelling at him than about the fact that Dazai said he was going to try a new method to off himself. The poor boy has finally accepted that Dazai is a roach, and can never be killed.

Ranpo literally shoving his snacks in a safe. Which, in a house-full of children / teenagers with no concept of ‘mine, not yours,’ I can relate to on an almost spiritual level.

Atsushi freaking out and Kyouka, four years his junior, having to take the reins as always. Related note: Kyouka’s immediate reaction to “we need to get to the Agency, quickly,” is to steal a car.

SEPARATE BUT RELATED NOTE: Who let Kyouka drive throughout this whole freakin’ movie? Can she even see over the dashboard?? Is she driving by photographic memory of streets alone and just hoping there’s nothing actually in her way??? I need answers.

Kunikida is also a roach. He is indestructible. Also, that man has impressive leg strength. That is all. Side-note: Where were all those guns and tech when the Guild was giving people a hard time? Why did they not send the office staff to the safe-house with at least a couple PISTOLS out of that stash? Would that have been so hard? (Gun regulation differences aside, I’m 99% certain no one’s gonna argue in the middle of a Gifteds’ war.)

Akutagawa being PUNTED across the street by Rashoumon, indirectly saving Atsushi’s hide. Atsushi thinking all three of them are dead meat because “Holy -bleep- it’s Rashoumon.” Rashoumon immediately forsaking his assault on Akutagawa because “WERE-TIGER, MUST KILL”. I was joking when I said those two only ever got anything done In The Name of Mutual Spite, but even their abilities hate each other’s guts. No one else’s ability goes after anyone but their owner. Literally just Atsushi and Akutagawa’s. Also: the fact that Akutagawa just accepts this, decides “Welp, easier for us to leave, then, if they’re tearing each other apart. See ‘ya,” and walks off.

Atsushi, put that gun away, everyone knows you’re too much of a coward to put a bullet between Akutagawa’s eyes, and that’s including you. Side-note: Kyouka setting aside the fact that Akutagawa has tormented her more than probably anyone else because “Shut up Atsushi, we have a job to do.”

Poor Tanizaki getting smacked around endlessly by Light Snow.

Everyone’s talking about how good Dazai looks with his hair tucked behind his ear, meanwhile I was just sitting there going, “that hairstyle was not meant to do that, Dazai, what are you doing.”

“I can out-manipulate you!”

“No, I can!”

“Clearly you two do not realize that it is I who is superior.”

Be quite all of you, you’re all nerds.

Akutagawa outsmarting Rashoumon by grace of better reflexes alone.

Demon Snow returning the cell-phone to Kyouka as a peace offering.

Chuuya, the shorter of the pair, lifting Ango up by the collar. Because Small Person Spite. Also, did he use his ability to keep his hat on when he jumped out of that plane, or is that thing super-glued to his head?

Yeah just, smack it with an entire building and shove it in its mouth. Unwieldy, inelegant, but effective. Also, Jesus Christ Chuuya, you look like a gremlin in that scene.

“That was a violent way of waking Sleeping Beauty.”

“YOU KNEW I’D PUNCH YOU.”

Ah. Yes. Such a healthy working relationship you two have. No wonder Dazai doesn’t question the viability of a relationship between Akutagawa and Atsushi despite the fact they outright hate each other and would never get along for love nor money.

The mutters, gasps, and cackles from behind us during the Lap Scene. The poor animators tried to make that look as unquestionable as possible. Alas, they were given an almost impossible task. I know you “have no such tastes in men,” Dazai, but could you get off your ‘humiliate Chuuya’ horse for two seconds and just let the poor man pass out in relative peace?

Shock therapy. I am not shocked. Side note: Atsushi why would you eat it?

I was expecting the Lotus Juice BG music. I was not expecting Reason Living. I am not, however, complaining.

“Don’t tell me what to do!”

Akutagawa, someone’s gotta. Last time you were left to your own devices, you got catapulted. Actually, even in that battle you were catapulted. More than once. Stop going directly after things bigger than you. Stealth is your friend.

All’s well that ends well and no one’s gonna talk about the fact that, just as in Stray Dogs proper, this is still all Dazai’s fault and doing.

Favorite part over-all? My grandmother in that pause of silence and black screen-time 2/3rds through the movie leaning over and just saying “wow.” Followed after by her saying to me earlier today “I was not expecting it to be so action-packed!”

#dead apple spoilers #bungou stray dogs: dead apple #dead apple #i hope i tagged this right #as far as spoilers go

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pixelatedlenses · 7 years ago

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On Space and My Blackness

So this is one of a few things I wanted to talk about this month.

I don’t write this to frighten any Black and Brown ALTs, but to help you understand that the reality is is that our lack of whiteness is, once more, a negative in Japan at times, and that you will have to deal with that if you chose to be an ALT in Japan. The piece ends on a high note because ultimately, my life here is a series of very happy, precious memories.

Here’s a piece on space in Japan, and how it has affected me. This is a kindle of rambling post, but I hope it all makes sense.

I’ll be posting again soon about my new sense of fashion in Japan, which is a very happy post about wearing bright colors and making my brown skin pop.

Today’s is more serious, so thank you for your time and attention.

I am given a lot of space in Japan: a wider berth, perhaps, than most of my white and white passing friends.

There’s three reasons why, and here’s the order I feel them in from least to most:

I am given space because I am visibly Foreign.

It’s very obvious, upon looking at me, that what little European may be contained in me is non-visual.

(Fun Fact: my mother did a DNA test and we are 82 or 88% African descending from the Ivory Coast, which is what I called hella black.)

I am given space because I am at: it’s an aversion to me taking up space.

I notice this most in elevators in the morning, when I’m going from the platform to the West side of the central station, when I am going to the 4th floor Animate after work, when I am squeezing into any space.

I am aware that at 134kg -last time I checked about a nine months ago, and according to my doctor at said check- that I am 2.5 average Japanese women on an elevator in Japan. At a limit of 750kg, or 11 people, I am 17% of that space.

Perhaps, people consider that a threat: I take up space and compromise it. I consume it and make them have to accommodate me.

Yet I suck and squeeze and hold my breath, pray that I don’t expand to someone’s discomfort, that I don’t pop in the seconds to the top floor.

(Mind, this mindset is global, especially in America: I got body shamed quite a bit back at home, and actually felt worse than in Japan where I can step outside of the culture and just get blamed for having “a foreign body”. Thank god the world is changing.)

Finally, I am given space because I am Black and Different.

I get this on a spectrum: people won’t talk to me but to -and through- me at times. If they do talk, that is: sometimes, it’s silence, or whispers and pointing.

People ask about my hair, and the brazen reach to touch: I smack and push hands away, remind them that I’m Human. Students try and I educate: I teach them that if you wouldn’t do it to someone Japanese, you can’t do it to someone who’s Foreign. I’m not a toy: I’m Human.

(When you ask, then yes, you can touch what I offer and understand something different. Ask: just ask.)

I see myself on TV in greasepaint and shoe polish black and wonder who thinks I look that way, what “homage” they’re doing. Why I’m the punchline in a country with a history of blackface as long as my home.

I see and hear music from home, beats and rhythms that were made by Black Artists. Nostalgia blooms in a strange way: I didn’t like jazz and blues as much as I do now when I catch it now.

Braids and cornrows that I want that cost 50000en. B-Boys and Chic Girls accenting their bodies with products of Black creativity. I find appreciation, but only because I’m Black.

When you find out I’m not That Black, where does it go?

You don’t want to take my space now?

Because of this, it feels no one stands near me.

Now, you might think that this is a created perception, that I’m misunderstanding Japanese culture, that I’m forgetting that “Japan is a monocultural country” when it’s never been monocultural if you remember the colonized Ainu, Korean-Japanese and Ryukyuan persons who exist as part of an ongoing history. Not when there’s regular foreign visitors, regular foreign residents.

The world is a connected place. How long should I say, “Well, Japan’s only been open for so long...”

It’s been 165 years. How much longer can I excuse?

At best, it’s curiosity.

Eyes locking on me when I get on a bus after 18 months of the same bus ride. Shock when I can say a single Japanese word.

Sometimes, I wonder how long would I have to live in Fukushima before there’s no shock? When will people who have seen me for 18 months stop being amazed by my ability to Talk?

I am not a performance.

I am human.

At the middle, it’s ignorance.

Big Jumbo. Rasta Girl. [Insert Black Female Musician].

Jero.

Always Jero, the singular touchstone of Blackness in a country that eats Blackness at times, devours it in pop culture and jazz and music.

Students -always boys- joking. Me, pleading for the other teachers who should know, laughing at the joke, surprised when I can’t make light of my Black Nose, my Black Hair, my Black Existence.

At worst, it’s invasive.

The snap of a camera and not knowing where it came from. The desire to scream and take a phone, snap it in half. The sudden awareness of, “Oh.” Tuck my chin and make myself small. Think thin thoughts so that I fade away.

At the absolute worst, it was being spat at in public, trying to get home with groceries. Cookies n’ cream in the cart, next to the eggs and frozen green beans. Peddle hard, peddle fast: race home and tuck myself into my apartment.

ココジン. Black. Different.

It’s a matter of perception. Not from me, but of me.

I should say that none of this happens at my base school and only at two visit schools on few occasions and when I’ve told co-workers of the passive-aggressive treatment I receive at times, they’re appalled: “We know better.”

And Japanese people do.

But when will people do better?

私は人間です。

When I’m with my White Friends, their space is consumed in eagerness: they’re pressed in, and people talk to them. They don’t mediate: they congratulate, coo when my white friends do something in Japan. They’re still surprised, but it’s different: it’s marvel versus shock.

Amazement versus surprise at a performance.

It’s trying twice as hard to match the most mediocre white male. It’s having to memorize and remember all of my historical studies, have to break down walls so that my Brown and Black predecessors can have things a bit easier, enter into places without the world hiccuping and stopping to take them in.

It’s not that my white friends aren’t made uncomfortable: it’s just that it’s different, and not in a good way. It’s that Japanese people don’t hide the difference: it’s clear when you’re treating me differently because of my blackness, no matter how polite someone is.

It’s clear when you negate my space to be curious instead of welcoming.

“We have a problem with liking people who look European,” a Japanese friend once told me. “We prefer them in advertisements and CMs, bu we just don’t look like them at all. We’re not White.”

Just. Just.

On those worst days, It stings, a thousand needles pressed under my skin, wanting to break through. It makes me itch and feel like I’m actually wrong, even though I know I’m right. It bites and makes me conscious: Dark in Spring, Darker in Summer. Fade in Autumn and Winter to Still Brown.

It’s being reminded that around the world, Black is Other.

It is consumable.

It is Different.

But the thing is, I like myself.

I will not forsake my Blackness. I won’t forsake my Body. While no one at my workplace knows I’m Queer, I won’t forsake that either. I worked hard, once I was conscious of my blackness, to love it.

I wake up and touch my hands and smile, think thick thoughts and let myself consume space. I touch my Black cheeks, tangle my fingers in my Black hair, and continue to live and be happy.

Because in all of this, my happiness defeats the pain.

Most of my life in Japan is a quiet passing of arm-wide space, consumed only in elevator rides, in squeezing between spread legs on trains and gaggles of students. It’s being loved and having twenty new mothers and dozens of father figures who pass me snacks from vacations or business trips. It’s students who see Teacher and not Black Teacher, our ALT and not our Black ALT.

It’s being a part of a community 95% of the time. It’s belonging to someone’s life and giving and receiving. It’s laughing at a restaurant, breaking social taboos with giggling and too much chatter. It’s singing in the teacher’s room and making mistakes in two languages, and laughing some more.

As hard as it is on those 5% days, I’m proud to be Black.

And there’s nothing that Japan can do to change that.

#black history month #bhm 2k18 #black in Japan #blackness in Japan

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