We’re caught within this loop of ‘forever’s and ‘never’s
alternating between the soft touch of fingertips and the beating of fists
We’re summer and winter
a riot against ourselves
I taste magic like poison on your lips when our teeth collide
and reality like the antidote when we melt into each other.
We’re the sand and the snow
We freeze and we thaw.
We’re so caught within this loop of paradoxes that we shouldn’t be within that we don’t realise when we turn into ice so rapidly
every inch of me that you touch, cracks.
And I spill over you like blood on snow
like fresh bruises on supple skin.
and you scatter every piece of me in your arms
like I’m the sun drowning in your horizon.
Every time I see your art of a rare pair I somehow become a huge fan of that rare pair. I have too many otps...,
…is it okay for me to be happy I’m dragging you down with me on all of my weird ships because tbh I am for a lot of them there’s just a handful of people shipping them I’m happy you’re joining us hahaha
because of your tags on that kamisero post i now love the hc that kirishima just uses loving bakugou as an excuse to get out of conversations that make him uncomfortable, even if it makes no sense. Like ‘any advice on how to confess?’ 'I’m dating bakugou, you probably should ask someone else.’ or 'how do you think snow works?’ 'Dude I’m dating bakugou, i don’t know.’
I’m in love with this ask because this has been my most ridiculous headcanon for an age I’m glad I could subtely make you share it, anon - Kirishima being perfectly aware of the fact that aside from the face there is no objective reason why he should be that smitten with Bakugou? That’s my jam, he’s as surprised as anyone else so when people ask him anything love related he’s like “do I look like a reliable source man DO I I think it’s hot when Bakugou yells there’s obviously something wrong with me you don’t want my advices”
But also for however aware of it he might be he’s still in love with the dude so people pointing it out to him gets old really fast, like, “it’s one thing if I say it myself and another it’s you talking shit about my boyfriend stop that”, which is why he just starts using “what do I know I like Bakugou” as an answer to anything - it starts with him being a smartass and it becomes just habit by the end of it, sometimes he uses it when Bakugou is around or with Bakugou himself and Bakugou doesn’t understand, doesn’t want to understand, has pondered the option of getting angry/offended/demanding an explaination and has deemed it not worth his time because the answer is most probably just gonna be that his boyfriend is an idiot anyway
(also he might or might not like how Kirishima’s pretty much just going around telling people he likes him over and over again, tbh)
Thank you for the wonderful prompt. Fluffiness and comfort and all those good things are ahead. Also I live in Australia so I am not quite sure how the whole snowed in thing works so anyway here we go. It turned into a long one, so I have put in the dreaded ‘Keep Reading’ break so apolgies to the mobile users that have the story cut off.
Also @believe-that-you-can-my-friend you are one of my fave Bughead fanfiction writers so to have you trust me with one of your prompts is a big thing. Hope you enjoy.
“This snow.” Betty exclaimed looking out the window at the thick blanket of snow that was now covering most of the town. They were effectively housebound, as vehicles could not get through the heavy snow and the snow ploughs were only maintaining main roads due to the overwhelming need. She was just glad that Jughead was with her. They were both keeping Polly company after her returning from her brief stay at the Blossoms and the craziness that had ensued there. Polly was relaxing on the couch, resting, so big now that the smallest task seemed insurmountable. She had the week before felt so full of energy flitting around the spare room that had now become a nursery ready for the arrival of the twins. Betty was so happy to have her sister back home, spending the long weekend with her two favourite people while her mum and dad went to a ‘marriage’ retreat seemed like a good time to her.
That was before she had heard a shriek from Polly on the couch. Exclaiming that she had felt something before she had looked at her hand in horror at the wetness that was there, that had seeped through her clothes.
“Betty, I need you.” She had screamed from the couch. Betty had been at her side within seconds. Jughead had rushed in from the kitchen where he had been fixing some snacks, which for Jughead usually meant a 10 course meal. There was panic on her sister’s face which went straight to the pit of her own stomach. Her waters had broken there was no doubt about that, the scream that tore from her lips as she was hit by a contraction made Betty flinch and she could feel her anxiety rising.
“Oh god.” Betty was feeling queasy and her nails were digging into her palms as she tried to take in deep and calming breaths. Jughead could see the terror on her face and knew that he needed to step up and take control of this situation even if it was terrifying him. She had her phone to her ear before throwing it at the wall. “They said they can’t be disturbed, it’s bullshit.” She was frantically pacing around the room.
“Betty, look at me.” He grasped his hands in his own, forcing her to look him in the eyes. His mind was racing, the Andrews were gone they were at a father son bonding trip when the snow had hit. There was only one person he could think of who may be able to help them. “I need you to phone my mum. Okay. She can help. She helped my cousin deliver her baby.” She nodded eagerly, he felt the wetness of fresh blood on his own hands, and brought her hand to his lips, kissing her fingers gently. “It’s going to be okay.” He told her not quite believing the words himself.
“Yeah, Yeah.” She was nodding emphatically, as if if she nodded enough she would start to believe it herself. But she was still in the same spot unmoving.
“The phone Betty.” Jughead reminded her breaking her out of her repetitive thoughts. She seemed to hear him and went to grab his phone. He looked back to Polly who was laying on the couch breathing carefully, seemingly the calmest out of all three of them. He went to her side.
“Polly.” He said gently. “We are not going to be able to get help in here. The roads are closed. We are just going to have to do this ourselves.” He could feel her eyes watching his lips intently hearing each word and processing. “Betty is going to call my mum, she has done this before, she can help.” Polly nodded at him, turning to face the other side of the loungeroom wall as she took in a deep breath. She focused on her breathing, in and out, just like the classes, she reminded herself.
“Juggie.” Betty re-entered the room. The phone by her side. “She didn’t answer, I couldn’t get through. I left a message, but.” Betty’s voice trailed off as she looked at Polly whose eyes were watching her carefully.
do you think benjen knew the truth about jon? or at least suspected it?
I like to think he suspected it, possibly even knew with certainty without Ned telling him. There’s a theory floating around that Benjen joined the Night’s Watch out of guilt because he knew of Lyanna’s plans to run away, so maybe when he saw Jon he just *knew*.
Benjen is particularly warm toward Jon, even joining him at the low table during the King’s feast in Winterfell to talk to him and tease him. That particular interaction doesn’t end well because Jon’s drunk and angry, but Benjen does say this:
“You might, if you knew what it meant,” Benjen said. “If you knew what the oath would cost you, you might be less eager to pay the price, son.”
Jon felt anger rise inside him. “I’m not your son!”
Benjen Stark stood up. “More’s the pity.” He put a hand on Jon’s shoulder. “Come back to me after you’ve fathered a few bastards of your own, and we’ll see how you feel.”
Jon even becomes sullen that Benjen stopped being as friendly with him when they went to the Wall, because Benjen is trying to make a point that he’s just another brother at the Wall and would not get special treatment from him:
Even his uncle had abandoned him in this cold place at the end of the world. Up here, the genial Benjen Stark he had known became a different person. He was First Ranger, and he spent his days and nights with Lord Commander Mormont and Maester Aemon and the other high officers, while Jon was given over to the less than tender charge of Ser Alliser Thorne.
Three days after their arrival, Jon had heard that Benjen Stark was to lead a half-dozen men on a ranging into the haunted forest. That night he sought out his uncle in the great timbered common hall and pleaded to go with him. Benjen refused him curtly. “This is not Winterfell,” he told him as he cut his meat with fork and dagger. “On the Wall, a man gets only what he earns. You’re no ranger, Jon, only a green boy with the smell of summer still on you.”
Stupidly, Jon argued. “I’ll be fifteen on my name day,” he said. “Almost a man grown.”
Benjen Stark frowned. “A boy you are, and a boy you’ll remain until Ser Alliser says you are fit to be a man of the Night’s Watch. If you thought your Stark blood would win you easy favors, you were wrong. We put aside our old families when we swear our vows. Your father will always have a place in my heart, but these are my brothers now.” He gestured with his dagger at the men around them, all the hard cold men in black.
Jon rose at dawn the next day to watch his uncle leave. One of his rangers, a big ugly man, sang a bawdy song as he saddled his garron, his breath steaming in the cold morning air. Ben Stark smiled at that, but he had no smile for his nephew. “How often must I tell you no, Jon? We’ll speak when I return.”
Jon expresses a great amount of anger over his uncle’s treatment of him, which seems to indicate that Jon is very much unused to Benjen refusing him or being anything less than warm toward him. His anger reaches a boiling point pretty quickly too:
“I don’t care,” Jon said. “I don’t care about them and I don’t care about you or Thorne or Benjen Stark or any of it. I hate it here. It’s too … it’s cold.”
When Benjen goes missing, it affects Jon rather greatly throughout AGoT:
Jon remembered the wish he’d wished in his anger, the vision of Benjen Stark dead in the snow, and he looked away quickly. The dwarf had a way of sensing things, and Jon did not want him to see the guilt in his eyes. “He said he’d be back by my name day,” he admitted. His name day had come and gone, unremarked, a fortnight past.
For a moment Jon was too frightened to move. Why would the Lord Commander want to see him? They had heard something about Benjen, he thought wildly, he was dead, the vision had come true. “Is it my uncle?” he blurted. “Is he returned safe?”
The grey walls of Winterfell might still haunt his dreams, but Castle Black was his life now, and his brothers were Sam and Grenn and Halder and Pyp and the other cast-outs who wore the black of the Night’s Watch.
“My uncle spoke truly,” he whispered to Ghost. He wondered if he would ever see Benjen Stark again, to tell him.
“Very well, truly,” the fat boy lied. “I am so happy for you all.” His round face quivered as he forced a smile. “You will be First Ranger someday, just as your uncle was.”
“Is,” Jon corrected. He would not accept that Benjen Stark was dead.
“Benjen Stark is still First Ranger,” Jon Snow told him, toying with his bowl of blueberries. The rest might have given up all hope of his uncle’s safe return, but not him.
In ACoK Jon still thinks of his uncle, and even mentions him to Ygritte:
“Do you know anything of my uncle, Benjen Stark?”
Ygritte ignored him. Stonesnake laughed. “If she spits out her tongue, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
In Jon’s crypt dream in ASoS, he calls to his uncle for help:
He dreamt he was back in Winterfell, limping past the stone kings on their thrones. Their grey granite eyes turned to follow him as he passed, and their grey granite fingers tightened on the hilts of the rusted swords upon their laps. You are no Stark, he could hear them mutter, in heavy granite voices. There is no place for you here. Go away. He walked deeper into the darkness. “Father?” he called. “Bran? Rickon?” No one answered. A chill wind was blowing on his neck. “Uncle?” he called. “Uncle Benjen? Father? Please, Father, help me.” Up above he heard drums. They are feasting in the Great Hall, but I am not welcome there. I am no Stark, and this is not my place. His crutch slipped and he fell to his knees. The crypts were growing darker. A light has gone out somewhere. “Ygritte?” he whispered. “Forgive me. Please.” But it was only a direwolf, grey and ghastly, spotted with blood, his golden eyes shining sadly through the dark …
All of this to establish that a relationship did exist between Jon and Benjen, and overall it seemed a rather warm one. It’s just as well that Benjen would behave warmly toward any Stark bastard, but seeing as Benjen and Lyanna had been close in age, that they likely spent more time together than Benjen would have with his other siblings, and that they were partners in crime at Harrenhal may indicate that he feels close to Jon because of Lyanna.
A little bit inspired by ‘You could be happy’ by Snow Patrol.
Liam feels like a robot these last days. Not just days, make that weeks, months.
Wait, no, a year and 3 days. And on the one hand, it’s like it’s yesterday, each time he hears a door slam, whether its a car door, a toilet door, or a front door, it takes him back to when Zayn walked out of his life.
He can’t help that he starts each time he hears that sound.
He can’t help that he wears the leather jacket Zayn bought him the last Christmas they spent together. He can’t help that its midsummer and here he is still wearing it.
He can’t help that as he pulls the packet of cigarettes from the inside pocket of the jacket but then shakes his head and pushes them back into the pocked, it’s the same brand Zayn always had, that Liam hated the taste of but it’s another reminder, a reminder that threatens to overwhelm him daily but the thought of not having it is worse.
He wonders if Zayn’s the same, whether Zayn still wears the plaid shirt of Liam’s that he wore that day.
That Liam had expected to find through his letter box each day and yet it’s never there.
There’s a side of them that tells him that Zayn probably burned it, but there’s this side of him that wonders if maybe?
But Zayn deserves better. Zayn deserves someone that doesn’t demand so much from him.
That doesn’t need him so much. And he hopes he has it, he really does, he hopes that by now, the memories that weren’t so bad make him smile.
Not cry like they make Liam cry.
He wonders if Zayn ever finds himself across the road from where Liam works. Harder for Zayn of course as Liam works on the 3rd floor of HQ in CID.
Unlike Liam who, because he’s a coward, peeps round the corner and into the window of the cafe Zayn’s run for the last 4 years.
The cafe Liam encouraged him to buy, the decor that Liam shopped with him to
get, the name….
He doesn’t know what he wants, but really he does. He wants to see Zayn smile, to see him laugh, to make sure he’s not lost weight in the same way Liam put it on..
Had put it on.
He wonders if Zayn’d be impressed that Liam’s running the New York marathon in November.
Tries not to wonder how it could be with Zayn there to support him.
He just wants Zayn to be happy, he wants to see that one time so he can move on.
He told himself that last week too, he ignores the side of his brain that tells him this is not in the handbook for getting over a bad break up.
And just as the door opens to the cafe, and he sees a familiar face walk up the road and Zayn’s there hugging Niall and he’s smiling, and he’s shaved since last week and he looks just like he did the day he opened the cafe that first time.
And Niall ruffles his hair, and Zayn ducks his head and Liam can’t help the smile, but he also can’t help the tears.
Zayn deserves this, and he needs to let him go because Liam deserves it too.
So he pulls away from the wall, and he’s just about to turn away when the door opens to the cafe once more and Zayn’s shouting something inside, to someone, probably to Leon, and then he shuts the door and walks to the table underneath the canopy and he pulls off his apron and its there.
Red and black checks. And even from across the road, Liam can see Zayn’s not lost weight, he looks good, he looks happy.
And he’s not forgotten Liam, but he’s moved on and somewhere in this brain of Liam’s, it doesn’t make sense.
But the other alternative, well that doesn’t make sense either.
He doesn’t trust himself right now, not to turn around, walk across the road and wave that wave that always made Zayn smile and just see what could happen, so instead blindly he crosses the road that takes him further away.
The beep of the horn startles him, but his reflexes let him jerk back and jump back onto the pavement before any harm can be done.
He doesn’t look to his right, instead he drops his head, heart thumping in his chest and he walks away back down the pavement he tells himself he won’t walk along tomorrow.
Or ever if he can help it.
2 minutes later and he thinks his heart is beating louder in his chest than it should, till he realises that its footsteps.
And he reasons that if he turns round, it’ll definitely turn out to be the driver of that car to
give him a piece of his mind, but if he keeps walking he could pretend, that Zayn isn’t happier without him.
That Zayn needs him as much as him. That if he turns around and it is Zayn, he won’t wake up from a dream, and realise he’s still alone in bed.
Liam stops because, well, its Zayn okay? Even if he’s just a voice in his head, he always had that power.
And he tells himself he won’t forget how he felt in that moment, even if he turns and he’s not there, even if he turns and tells him to go away because if he does this’ll be the last time Liam thinks he’ll ever hear his voice again.
Except, as he turns, Zayn’s there, and there’s this half smile, though it’s as uncertain as Liam feels.
And there’s Zayn’s hand, which still has the mandala on it even after a year, gesturing towards Liam and then back at himself.
why is nnoitra so obsessed over a number he got from aizen?
‘ Obsessed ‘ wasn’t exactly the word Nnoitra himself would use about how he felt towards his rank. The Gothic number on his tongue was his PRIDE rather than his obsession. Maybe the two were somehow connected. In any case, there was no arguing that Nnoitra liked to show off his rank ( despite having the mark on a somewhat hidden spot ). The reason why he liked telling everyone that he was the QUINTO Espada was simple: He was proud of it. He had fought to get where he was. Nelliel had stood in his way, and he had defeated her. It hadn’t been about ranks, but about survival. Nnoitra couldn’t live if she kept on bringing him down, so she had to die. She’d deserved it too ( she would’ve deserved death ). Nnoitra had ‘ spared ‘ her life not for her sake, but for his own. He was giving himself a chance to show her that he was STRONG. If she ever returned to Las Noches, she would see how much he’d grown in her absence, and she’d be terrified of him. Maybe then, she’d understand that he actually was a real warrior.
After he’d defeated Nelliel, he had wondered what would happen to him. Getting rid of an Espada probably wasn’t going to sit too well with Aizen. However, he’d received no punishment. Instead, he’d been ( at least it felt like that to him ) - rewarded. To Nnoitra, his Quinto rank was proof that he was strong. He had overcome a great trial, and it wasn’t just him who recognized that. Nnoitra could say all he wanted that he didn’t give a SHIT what others thought about him, but, the truth was that he was dying for someone to help his self esteem. Just a small boost of confidence would mean the world to him. After years of being stepped on, he needed to be lifted UP. Aizen had done that for him. Nnoitra was pretty sure he didn’t know what exactly had happened between him and Nelliel, but, he liked to believe that the Shinigami had approved of what he’d done. That he had understood how HARD Nnoitra had fought, and, for that, he’d been awarded with the position as the Quinto.
His gratitude towards Aizen was kept at a very low level, but, all in all, Nnoitra was thankful that the man had showed up. He had helped Nnoitra grow stronger ( though not strong enough ), and soon, he would lead them all to their deaths, which was exactly what Nnoitra wanted. And, during the days leading up to that battle, he could feel proud that he was stronger than Nelliel had told him. She’d looked down on him, and kept on saying that he wasn’t a real warrior. But - he’d DEFEATED HER! Yeah, that’s what he’d done. And, his ‘ cowardly ‘ way of doing so hadn’t been punished. It had been recognized and awarded by the very person who Nelliel had been so keen on serving. So, in the end, Aizen had ( in a way ) betrayed her, and chose to see that Nnoitra was the stronger one, and the one who would be most useful to his army.
So Nnoitra wore his rank with pride, and during times when he needed to have his spirit lifted ( every day, pretty much ), he would dip his tongue out between his teeth, and remember that he’d overcome a trial that had seemed hopeless at the time. And sometimes, when he managed to hold his head above water, he could think that maybe he would overcome the next trial too.
i really buy into the snow bunny theory tbh. if you haven’t heard of it, it’s basically this: monet died. one of the tangerines on nami’s tangerine tree regrew as her devil fruit. (because from punk hazard we know that after a devil fruit user dies, their devil fruit manifests on a nearby fruit). carrot is going to eat her devil fruit and get snow powers.
it makes logical sense to me, first of all. monet is dead as far as we know, devil fruits re-manifest on nearby fruits, the sunny was nearby when she died, and carrot is definitely the kind of adventurous person who’d eat a random ass fruit off the tangerine tree.
and it also makes sense to me from a character/plot standpoint, especially wrt carrot potentially joining the crew- one roadblock i’ve had with that is that carrot’s electro is kinda too similar to nami’s thunderbolt tempo, and given how unique all the other straw hats’ powers are from each other i can’t see oda being ok with two members both using electricity as their go-to, so this would give her a new and unique power. plus it’s a logia, and we’ve never had a logia on the crew. it’s also snow, which is, you know, white and therefore fits carrot’s look and style.
so yeah idk. i wouldn’t be surprised if carrot ends up eating monet’s devil fruit, especially if she joins the crew.
You're killing me. Jean's daemon is a snow leopard and they're endangered and jean is in danger when he's at the nest. I'm sad. But. A French speaking snow leopard chillin and eating some croissants would be nice
i have a lot of feelings about jean moreau
Jean is the one waiting for Neil at the airport. He’s impossible to miss, clad in black and still-faced, taller than most everyone else around him. Next to his monochromatic figure, his daemon is a perfect partner – she’s a snow leopard, silvery-coated with large moonlike eyes.
She is very beautiful. Unfortunately all Neil can think as he approaches the pair of them is the frequency of large daemons amongst child abuse survivors, especially when she stares straight through him.
Jean’s gaze is piercing in comparison. He says, “You shouldn’t have come here.”
i like this music *-* it feels so dangerous and like a restrained power, and the little megalomania theme inside is like the smile red put up to everybody. He’s always looming around, hidden in his brother’s shadow, but he’s the one you should fear and he’s going to rip you appart if you make a wrong move.
Blueberry : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HUSH3-F3AK4 Blue is so swingy i mean have you seen him ? i bet he walk with big jumps, his all life his swingy and he don’t need so much to be happy, he is cozy around people he loves, (and he definitely is a cat (a lil bouncy once but still) and he is loud (the end of the song :’))
Because i think that the main thing with him is loneliness. He is blue (either version of him, you know, they are the same), but he has no friends, he can’t really count on his brother, he can’t count on anybody, and from that loneliness came the cruelty, the wrath…
what do you think of the songs and my choices ? i’m open to discussion ^^