#& you can kind of tell they’ve forgotten to be cute on purpose but they’re so fucking cute because they’re

[daisychainsandbowties]

Every time you write or post about something that interests you, you manage to do so in such a passionate and often beautiful and insightful way that I end up looking it up and becoming passionate about it as well. I could not have told you a single thing about chess or the galaxy really, before I started reading your writing and following your blog. Second hand passionate interests. That’s talent, man.

i’m sorry i’ve been sitting on this for like a week i don’t know what else to do except cry thank you for reading my stuff & connecting with it & being curious that’s what life is about to me it’s a mental list of wikipedia articles i want to read & academic journals i want to attack with red pen & people i want to sit with and ask them questions and listen to them that’s the best thing in the world except for maybe making certain sounds or kissing or when you find something and you’re !!!! “oh my friend will like this” and then you show them and they do 🥺🥺 i’m rambling but it’s so absolutely everything to me to make people curious about things by writing about them & i’m glad you said this to me and i’m glad i could give you little research tasks to do that’s amazing i’m crying a bit but we’re good & there’s always more things to read about and there’s other people and that’s really really great i think

[teddy06writes]

You Didn't Need Us Then, We Don't Need You Now

Requested by this anon: "Okay I thought of this idea during Fundy's stream. Quackity and reader were engaged to Karl and Sapnap, but they left because of Karl losing his memory and Sapnap paying more attention to him. Quackity and reader then created Las Navadas to try and cope with everything that's happened to them. They created a little wedding area where they planned to get married with Sap and Karl. Flash forward to a year or two later, Karl and Sap stumble across Las Navadas and their two former fiancees. And they see everything they've done, including the little wedding area. which is perfectly designed as to how they wanted their wedding together. That's is as far as I got to the imagine in my head. If you could make a fic out of it that would be cool. If not at least you have this cute imagine in your head! 😊"

{Okay, so- so man feels, so many ideas. I haven't seen all of the Los Nevadas streams yet because I've got a lot of school stuff going on, but, I think I have a pretty good idea of what's going on. [also Slime from The Ground my beloved]}

Quackity x reader; Past: Sapnap x Karl x Quackity x reader

trigger warnings: maybe some swearing, slight descriptions of a panic attack, slight drinking

premise: After L'manburg was destroyed, two of your fiancées seemed to disappear. With just Sapnap left, you had been scared, but he assured you that the right thing to do was split up to try and find Quackity and Karl. And, well, you found Quackity, but when He found Karl.... something else had taken over, and suddenly Kinoko Kingdom was more important than finding you and quackity again. But thats fine. You and Quackity had been together in the begining, so what did you need from the other two? Las Nevadas could fill the void they left,,, and it did, until they happened to come knocking, right as you were finally moving on.

{Also, parental unit for everyone in Las Nevadas, I love it, brain is going brr so hard}

{also also, purpled is the forgotten eldest child of the server and no the ufo does not get blown up}

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"It's gone, (y/n) it's all gone," You said with disbelief, staring over the barren, ashy place that had once been L'manburg and El Rapids, "We couldn't stop him."

Sapnap took in a shaky breath, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, "We were never could have. Even if the supplies weren't destroyed."

The remaining people had already cleared out, but you had only now come to see the damage, having been forced away from the battle by your fiancées.

"I could have helped." You fell to your knees, still staring at the wreckage.

Sapnap could only sigh at the broken look on your face. You had lost the only home you'd ever known, but what had he lost? Well, for one thing, Karl.

Karl was still no where to be found, and now it seemed that Quackity had disappeared.

He fiddled with the purple band that circled one of his fingers, "Look- we- we need to find Quackity and Karl. Q looked pretty bad the last time I saw him, and Karl-"

Resolutely you nodded, dragging yourself to stand, "Karl is Karl. He'll be happy that his statue missed being blown up. I think its Q we should be worried about. This place- El Rapids- that was everything to him."

"Well- how about you go find Quackity, and I go find Karl. We're bound to find them eventually if we split up." He offered.

You studied the look on his face, "You're covering for him. What's going on?"

Sapnap only shook his head.

Crossing your arms you turned toward the hill, and what was left of the prime path, "Quackity has the deed to some land. North of Spawn. Meet us there once you kind K, alright?"

"Okay." He said softly, leaning over to press a soft kiss on your cheek.

"Be safe." You advised, already starting away.

~~

It didn't take you very long to track down your Fiancé, in all the time you'd known him (much longer than you'd known the others), he hadn't changed too much.

So, when you made your way through the twisted paths near Pogtopia, he was up on the ridge, sitting on the rock that had for so long, doubled as a bench.

"It's good to see you're safe." You hugged your arms to your body, trying to keep your voice from shaking.

As soon as you were sitting next to him, he was leaning on you, "He destroyed everything- all that work- El Rapids-"

"I know." You wrapped your arms around him, finally letting your own tears fall, "I know."

"What are we gonna do? I just wanted a place for us- I just- I wanted to make a place for us- all we asked for was recognition- and now the only place that saw was recognizing us is gone."

It had taken a while for Quackity to stop talking about everything that had been destroyed. Even then he kept asking, "But- Just wanted to make a place for you guys, how are we gonna do that now?"

"We can still make a place," You assured him, even as you yourself were unsure, "We'll make our own little country. So far out where no one will be able to blow it up."

He seemed to take to the idea quickly, and that night, as the two of you sat together in the camp that had been made within the caverns of Pogtopia, he talked feverently of the country you two would make.

He talked of buildings, of businesses, and of wedding venues. The plans he made up that night, they were almost enough to make you forget about what had happened to your home.

"What about that land north of spawn?" You suggested, letting your head rest back on his shoulder.

Quackity thought about it for a moment, "I mean- its just some desert, but I think we could make it work."

"Good, I told Sap to meet us there once he found Karl."

He nodded, "We'll head up there, and start getting everything ready, and then when they're ready they can come up."

~~ This was how three months came to pass, with the busyness of planning the new city, the beginning of construction, the meetings with Sam to plan for the new economic system that the new country would spread through the lands.

Yet you still felt off. It had been that long and Karl and Sapnap had never returned, something must have gone horribly, horribly wrong. It nagged at you, constantly, Drove you sick with anxiety somedays.

"(y/n)."

You looked up from the designs for the next casino you had been going over, "Sam! I didn't know you were visiting today! What can I do for you?"

"Uhhh, I wasn't planning on it, you better come out here- it's Quackity, we had been discussing- some things. I don't know what happened but when he passed back through-" The creeper hybrid trailed off.

You quickly stood, rushing passed him and through the hall to the courtyard where Sam had left him, gasping for breath and tugging at his hair.

In an instant you were kneeling beside him, "Breath baby, breath."

"They- he- George- Kinoko- Sap- left- on purpose-" He blubbered.

"Hey, Q," You took his hands as gently as you could, "look at me. Breath, breath with me. Come on, breath."

Slowly, he began to calm down, and by the time Sam was long gone he slowly began to explain what happened.

"I was heading back from talking with Sam, I saw George outside the prison. He kept talking about something- about- Kinoko Kingdom..." He sighed.

"Kinoko- what?" You asked, confused.

He let his head drop into his hands, "Karl and Sapnap.... started another country- called Kinoko Kingdom... they didn't even wait for us."

You felt your heart drop, if you hadn't been holding his hands yours would've been shaking, "What-"

Quackity could only nod shakily as he pulled you into his arms.

"I told him to come back here- I told- why didn't they-" You muttered absently.

The only noise in the courtyard was from the fountains, and the small sniffles from the two of you.

You were still in a state of semi-shock and sadness when you felt his arms tighten around you.

"We don't need them anyway. Las Nevada's can prosper without them."

~~ "Purpled? You want to get him in on this?" Quackity frowned.

You shrugged, "He's a mercenary, he could be of some help around here."

Your fiancé studied your face for a moment, "No, that's not it. Why do you really want him here?"

"Look, he's-" You sighed, "The kids been through a lot. He doesn't really have anything anymore, he needs somewhere, someone at least. We owe that too him at least."

After a moment, he nodded, "I haven't spoken to him since I paid him for his help with that egg mess. He- didn't seem to like me being around."

"I'll try to find him, he'd talk to me, I'm sure of it." You stood up from your seat at the table.

"You're going now?" He asked, following you across to the coat room.

You nodded, tugging on your boots, "If I want to make it through to the Greater SMP before it gets dark. I'll see if Eret will let me stay the night, then I'll head out again."

"Be careful." Quackity advised once you were ready.

You pecked at his lips, "I always am."

The journey to the Greater SMP went quickly, and after a nights stay in Eret's castle, you had made your way to the UFO, disappointed to find it seemingly abandoned.

"How the hell am I supposed to find him if the one place he ever seems to be is empty." You muttered, glancing around the base of the UFO.

You shrugged off your knapsack, dropping it to the side, followed by the sword that had been at your hip, and then you began to climb.

Even the inside of the UFO was completely empty, devoid of any chests, crafting tables, or furnaces.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

You jumped, turning to find Purpled, in full netherite, sword gripped tight in his hand.

"I- We've been looking for you." You fumbled for an explanation, holding up your hands in a sort of surrender.

He scoffed, "I already did a job for you people, I'm busy now."

"Not for a job Purpled!" You couldn't help but exclaim, "Some people actually try to find you for more than just that."

"Then what do you want?" He snapped.

"Did Q tell you about Nevadas?"

Purpled frowned, "Yeah, he mentioned it."

"Well, I think you should join. Come in on the project."

"Why the hell would I do that?"

You sighed, "Look, Purpled, you- everyone here, in this smp, they don't care, they don't bother to know you. You- you don't really have a place here-"

"You think I don't know that?" Purpled's grip on his sword tightened.

"So, If you come with us, join Las Nevadas, you can have a place- have people who care. You need people, Purpled."

"I don't Need anyone." He insisted.

You sighed, "Someday your going to have to see that that's not true. Please consider joining Las Nevadas, no one here cares, but we do."

"That's not true," He said bitterly, "You just need me to do another god damned job."

With a shake of your head you turned, preparing for the climb back down, "Purpled, this smp isn't kind to children, but I think it's been the most unfair to you. Out here your being forgotten, but you might not be if you join us."

~~

At the base of the UFO you were surprised to find a strange, slimly looking boy digging through your bag.

"Hey!" You yelled, "Don't touch that! It's not yours!"

He looked up and froze, realizing he'd been caught.

You snatched your things away from him, quickly unsheathing your sword, "Who are you?"

"Uhhhh, I'm a meat person- same as you!" He offered.

"You- you're- uh-" You sputtered for a moment confused, "Why were you touching my things?"

"Uhhhhh, Dap me up!" He said avoiding the question.

You stared at him for a moment, "I don't have time for this."

As you started back toward the prime path you heard him call, "Nice to meet you (y/n) from Las Nevadas!"

"How do you know my name?" You demanded, whirling around.

"Oh, I know a lot of things." He laughed, "I see lots 'a stuff."

You frowned, "Uh huh. I'm gonna- walk away now."

~~ A week had passed, and there was still no signs of Purpled, nor Fundy or Foolish, (both of whom Quackity had gone to speak to whilst you were away), coming to Las Nevadas.

You were sure that Purpled would come around eventually, but had no faith that anyone else would join Las Nevadas, until you had heard a strange noise in the night.

It had been a cross between a clang and a yell, and then almost like something being dragged.

You had been going over some of the contracts you had been preparing for if anyone ever did show up when you'd heard it, and your fiancé seem to be gone from his own office, and your bedroom even, so quickly you armed yourself with your sword before hurrying out after the noise.

The streets of Las Nevadas were still partially lit by street lamps as you hurried along, it didn't take you long to find your fiancé, just outside of city limits, pacing In front of a strange looking hole.

"What the hell are you doing?" You hissed.

"Hey! It's (y/n) from Las Nevadas!"

You jumped at the voice, turning to see that no, the hole wasn't green, that the same slime boy from before was sitting in it.

"You! What are you doing here?!" You exclaimed.

"Quackity from Las Nevadas put me in this hole!" He said cheerfully.

Quackity grabbed your shoulder, turning you away from Slime and the hole, "You know him?"

"He was trying to look through my stuff after I talked to Purpled," You explained, glancing back over at the hole, "Said he sees just about everything, uhh, as far as I can tell, he's like the hybrids- but- weirder."

"Nope! I'm just a totally goopless guy! I'm bones and stuff!" He called from the hole.

"Oh god we have crazy people here." Quackity muttered scrubbing a hand over his face.

You moved to crouch next to the hole, "What- uh- What are you doing here buddy?"

"Oh I'm just oozing around. Dap me up!"

Confused, you complied, nervously laughing as he grinned at the handshake.

"I found him spying in the restaurant." Quackity sighed.

"What's spying?" The boy in the hole asked, "I just listen."

"Yeah well tell me exactly what you heard or I'll ill you right now!" Quackity threatened, pulling out his sword.

He hummed, "Well, I saw you, and I saw (y/n) from Las Nevadas. And there was a green guy, and a purple guy. I know of a Red guy, dead guy but he's not dead anymore-"

Your breath hitched, "Dead guy?"

"Yeah, looked real ashy- maybe even ...sooty?..." He confirmed.

Quackity glanced back at you, "And he's not dead anymore?"

"No. He's weird now. Got gray hair instead of grey skin. Used to run a country- got blown up though."

"How much have you seen man?" You asked, incredulous.

He shrugged, "I mean, I move slow but I've seen a lot. Lately a lot of conversations about taking advantage of the ever so fragile human psyche through gambling."

"Holy shit." you muttered.

Quackity glared up into the night sky, almost looking for an answer.

Shifting closer too look at the boy you frowned, "What's all that green stuff?"

"Oh- those are just- my totally normal- human parts! I'm a person!" He grinned.

You sighed, "Uhh, look, what's your name? Like how I'm (y/n) from Las Nevadas, who are you?"

"Oh, I'm goop from the ground!" He smiled for a moment before realizing his mistake, "I mean- I'm a meat person!"

Quackity still seemed to be praying to the sky, not paying any attention.

"Goop from the ground," You muttered, slowly connecting the dots, "Well, uhh, goop, how bout I give you a regular person name?"

"A person name? Oh boy!" He laughed.

You thought for a moment longer, "How about- Charlie?"

Charlie grinned, somehow even wider than before, "Woah! I have a real human name! Like any other regular human meat person!"

"Yep, you do." You chuckled.

"And, to be clear, I definitely am one of those, and not a piece of goop, that's slowly come to the surface, hiding as a person!"

As you continued to talk with Charlie, Quackity seemed to come to a realization, "He's like an accidental spy!"

And, when you helped him out of the hole Quackity was quick to say, "Well, this- this- was- was uh a formal greeting! Yeah that's what we call them!"

"Wow!" Charlie mused.

The walk back to Las Nevadas was quiet, until Charlie turned to you, "(y/n) from Las Nevadas, if I'm Charlie- where- where?"

You smiled, "Do you want to be Charlie from Las Nevadas?"

~~

By the end of the same week, after having gotten Charlie fully on board, and slight agreement from Foolish, word finally came from Purpled.

You'd been working on the next phase of the whole Nevadas Project when Charlie rushed in, "(y/n) from Las Nevadas! There's someone here!"

You frowned, "Who?"

"Purpled from UFO!" He practically yelled.

Standing, you tucked your papers away, "That's perfect Charlie, thank you. Do you want to come with to help show him around?"

He nodded, following you out of your office.

Outside, you found Purpled, along with his dog, looking up at the casino in awe.

"Purpled! You came!" You called cheerfully.

The boy turned, a strange expression you couldn't read on his face, "What? No 'I told you so'? No 'I knew you'd come around eventually'?"

You shrugged, "I'm just glad you finally came."

He sighed, "It's not like they needed me anywhere else."

You put a hand on his shoulder, "That's alright, We need you here."

"They- I went to tell Ponk I was leaving," Purpled sounded too broken, too tired, "He said he was too busy to talk to me."

Before you could say anything, he continued, "I had a house, near L'Manhole. I- I uh blew it up, to see what would happen," His shoulders began to shake, ever so slightly, as he finished in a whisper, "No one even noticed."

In one quick move you wrapped an arm around his shoulder and pulled him into a hug, "It's okay Kid, it'll be okay now."

That was how your fiancé found you, standing outside the main casino, a teen all but sobbing into your shirt, Charlie looking on confused.

~~

And so, the time passed, Las Nevadas grew, and you and your new little family did along with it.

Quackity found it funny, really, your ability to bring people onto your side be connecting with them emotionally, and as he put it, all but adopting them.

Charlie still took up a room in the apartments you and Quackity staid in above the offices. Purpled would come over when things around the country weren't so busy, and you'd talk for hours, Foolish joining in some of the time.

Fundy, on his first night in the city, had broken down to you, the same as Purpled, but you'd helped him put himself together. Though Tommy, Tubbo and Ranboo didn't have official places in Las Nevadas, it seemed a chunk of their time was spent there.

Yep, that was your new strange family. You, Your fiancé and the kids but not really young enough to still be kids you accidently adopted.

Now, you reflected on this quietly, from the top of the needle.

"You okay?" Quackity asked softly, looking over at you.

You chuckled softly, "Can you believe that it's been two years?"

"No, can you?"

You shook your head, "You know, I've been thinking. A long time ago, you told me we were better off with out Karl and Sapnap."

He watched silently, as you pulled the other two rings that you had kept, holding them up by the chain they were strung on.

"Maybe- you were right- and maybe it's finally time to get married. Just us. We didn't need them to get here, we won't need them for anything else."

A small smile slipped onto Quackity's lips, "Would you marry me?"

"You already know the answer to that." You chuckled.

"So it's a yes?"

"Obviously." You scoffed.

"When should we have the ceremony then?" He asked.

"Right now," You mused, "We opened that wedding hall for a reason, right? We could get married proper, right now. It's already decorated the way Tubbo originally planed."

He laughed, "Let's do it tomorrow that way we have time to get like, notices out and shit."

You smiled, "Of course."

The sun had begun to set during this discussion, and you looked out over the peaceful landscape with a soft sigh, yes, this, this was home.

And even as you heard Charlie tripping and crashing his way up the stairs, the thought still filled your head.

"Quackity and (y/n) from Las Nevadas!" He exclaimed, "Purpled from Las Nevadas found some people by the border!"

In an instant, both you and Quackity were standing, "What were they doing?"

"Looking around, real weird like. Fundy From Las Nevadas said they might be here to attack us! I hope they aren't."

You followed Quackity past him and back down from the tower, drawing your sword as Charlie called out where he had left Purpled and the mystery people.

What you found was not what you expected.

Purpled stood, sword drawn and pointed at the men you least expected to see now.

Karl looked scared, tucked back behind Sapnap who was moving to draw his own sword.

Not another move!" You barked, moving to stand in line with Purpled.

Karl's face light up upon seeing you, "(y/n)! Quackity! I missed you!"

"Did you?" Quackity spit.

"Sapnap drop your sword." You commanded, not paying attention to the strange look on their faces, no one, and I mean no, pulled a sword on your family.

He frowned, "Wh- (y/n) don't be like that. I get it- but- why..."

"What are your intentions? Why have you come here?" You asked.

"We wanted to find you!" Karl said, "We missed you (y/n)."

"Uhh, that's (y/n) from Las Nevadas to you." Charlie said.

Quackity sighed, grabbing Charlie by the collar and pulling him back, "Sorry- he's been learning sass and sarcasm lately."

"Still, what are you doing here?" You pushed.

"We wanted to find you! You've been gone so long, we thought we'd go looking." Sapnap explained.

"We've been gone?" You scoffed, "You were the ones who disappeared."

Karl moved forward, grabbing your left hand, and Quackity's right, "We just wanted to come back, to finally get married."

You pulled away, slowly sheathing your sword, "You can't be serious?"

"What do you mean?" Karl asked, the smile just beginning to drip off his face.

"You fucking left us- We were just trying to make a place for the four of us to be safe and you left us! And now you want back? Out of the blue?" Your voice steadily grew louder, "You cannot show up here after abandoning us like that!"

Quackity gently took your hand, murmuring, "(y/n)..."

"No. They don't get to do this!" You turned to him, watching his face change upon seeing the mix of anger and sadness in your eyes.

"W- We'll talk about this tomorrow, away from the kids," He asserted, for once not earning any protest about age from Purpled or Fundy, "Charlie, you think you can take these guys on a tour of the place?"

He nodded eagerly, "This way this way!"

As Sapnap, Karl, Purpled and FUndy began to trudge after him, Quackity turned to you, "(y/n)?"

You just shook your head, pulling your hand out of his and starting away.

~~ Purpled had followed the tour party quietly, taking a page from Charlie's book and watching, observing everything.

He had seen the pain in your face at the suggestion of marriage, and the anger in Quackity's just upon seeing them.

So, he followed the men warily, watching the way Karl exclaimed about how he had built an Effile tower just like the one in the city in Manberg, and the way that Sapnap mentioned fondly how the décor at the wedding hall matched the ones you two had always spoken about.

Hearing it nearly drove him mad. Did they not realize that it had all been for them? That dreams of them arriving were the only thing that had ruled Your and Quackity's minds?

When Charlie had directed the group, which by now included some of the other tourists, past one of the bars, he stopped.

Inside, Quackity was slumped at the bar, a bottle of whiskey in hand.

"Drinking away your problems won't solve them." Purpled sighed, pulling the bottle away from him.

"We were doing so good without them. You know that Purp. But here they are, back and ready to fuck things up again. That's how it's always been." He muttered.

The boy shook his head, "They don't realize how destructive they are? Do they?"

"Never have." He sighed.

"Lets get you back home."

Quackity allowed himself to be manhandled into standing, and then led out of the bar, back toward the offices, and toward the apartment.

"(y/n) will figure it out. They always do." Purpled assured him, pulling open the apartment door and ushering him in.

"But they shouldn't have too," He sighed, running a hand through his hair, not bothered by the way his beanie fell to the floor, "They've dealt with so much without help. Yet they're always the ones to help us."

~~

Once he had wrangled Quackity into the bedroom, Purpled headed back out, finding Fundy at the base of the Needle, "They up there?"

"Yeah," The hybrid sighed, "Quackity?"

"Got drunk. He's- painfully coherent though." He winced.

Fundy ran a hand through his hair, "It's hard to believe one of the nicest people around is the one to fuck them up like this."

"Makes perfect sense to me," Purpled said as they began to make their way toward the stairs, "My first night here- I was having a hard time, because- the whole server acted like I didn't exist. (y/n) told me about how Sapnap and Karl had abandoned them."

"Did it seem this bad though?" Fundy asked.

"No- but that was before they turned up again talking about marriage."

By now they had reached the top of the tower, and Purpled could see where you sat by the ledge, feet dangling over. Quietly, they both sat down on either side of you.

"How's Q?" You asked quietly after a moment.

"Drunk, but back at your apartment, well supplied with water." Purpled reported.

You nodded, "And K and- Karl and Sapnap?"

"Waaay to blissfully ignorant." Fundy said.

Quiet held you three in silence for a moment, until at last Purpled sighed, asking, almost bitterly, "So- are you gonna marry them? You were going to once."

"Even if I did it wouldn't change anything here." You mumbled.

"Sapnap was talking about how cool it would be to come back and visit from Kinoko after the honeymoon." Fundy admitted.

Before you could say anything Purpled drew one of his knees to his chest, "I- don't- it feels like they'd be taking you away from us- I like it the way it is. Things are nice, and they're just fucking it up."

Fundy nodded, "As much as I hate to say it, he's right. If you people all get married nothing will be the same. I kind of liked having parental figures, I don't want them messing that up."

"They won't." You promised softly.

By god, if you hadn't already made up your mind, their words would've swayed you.

~~ After a while, you stood, "Let's go home."

They followed you tiredly, Charlie joining the mini procession at one intersection, telling you that Sapnap and Karl had gone to get a hotel room.

At the apartment, Quackity was sitting on the couch, already seeming more sober than Purpled had told you. When you sat next to him, his arms were quick to wrap around you, holding you like a lifeline.

Charlie took his place on the other side of the couch, Purpled curled up in the armchair, and Fundy dug around until he found one of the old projectors he'd left there, queuing up a movie.

"Hey, just like on Nightmare's days!" Charlie laughed, referring to the infamous 16th, where, just about every month it seemed you, Fundy, Quackity and sometime Purpled would have nightmares of the Manburg Pogtopia war, and everyone would congregate in the living room to watch one of Fundy's movies.

"Sure as hell feels like one." Quackity muttered.

And so you watched the movie, though your thoughts drifted, thinking of how you would deal with your reappearing ex-fiancés.

As you thought, you created a mini script in your head. Exactly what you would say came you.

"You didn't need us then, and we don't need you now."

Yes, you thought, leaning more into Quackity's side, thats what you'd say, after you talked about your new family.

(and the next day, you did just that)

[stardustincarnate]

YOU SHINE LIKE THE STARS, YOU LIGHT UP MY HEART // Touta Matsuda x Reader

word count : 2585 genre : fluff <33 (stargazing with this pretty boy!!)

It was a sight to behold—the empty of clouds but shrouded with twinkling stars with the right distance from one another. They were visible in every direction. What a perfect night to stargaze. You had just gotten out the yard of your family's house, accompanied by a cup of hot milk and cookies. Unfortunately you forgot to bring your eyeglasses so you had to head back inside—a surprise welcoming you when you saw someone who didn't belong in your house.

"Touta? What are you doing here?"

That was a little... impertinent. You felt guilty. It wasn't like you weren't happy to see him, you were just shocked. Plain shocked.

"Hey [Y/N]! Haha, good evening!"

He was a bit skittish, maybe nervous. You noticed how clammy his forehead was, with the reason being just finished looking at you through the loophole in the kitchen wall. "It's been a while. You look.. dazzling.. as always."

"If your definition of dazzling is someone who looks like a zombie who's just gotten out of bed, thank you." You smirked, wearing your glasses. "What made you come here anyway? Isn't it late? It's your day-off today?"

"Yup. Thought of visiting a.. friend. You see, I—I really missed you! Work hasn't been the same since you le—"

"Hm, I know that tone. Come on Matsu."

"Hey! It's not that I'm complaining! I still like my job, it's good. But it could be better if you're with us, despite your never-ending bad mood. Hehe..."

"Ooh, so you missed me, that's why you're here. You wanna catch up."

"Of course?" He sheepishly rubbed his nape. You smiled slyly and hummed, trotting back to the yard.

"Come. You're obliged to."

Matsuda followed, hesitant to sit beside you on the grass, only until you pat the space beside you. He kept on constantly shifting his legs as you munched on your cookies, offering him some. You two ate in silence, looking at nothing in particular as the night breeze hit you. The wind's eerily ethereal howl rung in your ears, blending with the faint sound of the television from inside.

He pursed his lips and looked at you, blushing while waiting for the right time to speak. You thought the same thing even without looking at him. After some time, you spoke, immediately cutting yourself off as he did the same. Of course, that's bound to happen.

"You go first."

"You're my visitor. I know you wanna ask me some things."

He fidgeted the hem of his shirt. "How.. How have you been?" You snorted, shaking your head fondly. "I'm fine, I guess. Nothing interesting though, really. No thrill in my new work plus my bitchy subordinates. I swear, Matsu, if I get full, they'll know I'm the worst of their kind."

"Show them who's boss [Y/N]! You do look scary and mean after all.. I mean—"

"Hey! I'm not as mean as I look like! I only am to Satan's spawns."

"I-I was kidding—"

"Chillax, of course."

"But at least you are actually kind and can cope with me."

"And your stupidity." You jested. He flushed pink and frantically shook his head.

"What's your new work anyway? Am I the only one among your peers who doesn't it yet?"

"Nah, they've no idea too. I'm currently working as a hotelier. But I think I'm... Is old-work-sick even a thing? Something like that."

"What hotel?"

"Not too far from the station. You just gotta grab a taxi and voila—you're there. Hm, why ask? Thought of visiting me frequently? Eh? Eh?"

"N-No! I mean.. why not? Just thought of.. visiting you during my free time, just to, you know, chatter with you. Because—because you boost my mood.. in some sort of way."

You felt your heart melt. "Aww, I'm happy. You do the same to me. And you know? I've thought of visiting you in the station as well."

"Really? You should! I—I mean.. only if you're free of course. I've been feeling out of place lately. They're still nice but I don't know. Maybe it's just me..."

"They're preoccupied with work, that's why they barely interact with you. Focus on your work, it'll make you less lonely." You said, plaintive.

"But I am focusing.."

"No, hocus focus! Not focus focus. You know what I mean?"

"That's vague, but okay?"

"And yeah, if I visit you, it won't be very frequent. I'm sorry Matsu, even if I want to. I don't want to get scolded by the inspector or the chief. I don't wanna get you in more trouble too. Even though I'd often, er, miss you, too."

The words came out, unbidden, and you mentally smacked your forehead. His eyes softened as you stared at him. He smiled, and you could tell that he was still restraining himself because even his eyes were smiling, his ears turning red. You found his smile cute and rather infectious. You cleared your throat. He averted his gaze elsewhere, mumbling.

"Why did you have to quit.. I wish you had stayed."

You sighed then pursed your lips. "Me too. But my parents don't like it anymore. Well to begin with, they never liked the idea of their only daughter being involved in a perilous job. But the arson was what really ended it all."

Matsuda looked crestfallen after you'd mentioned it. He clenched his fists. He could still remember that day vividly—the day you almost died. He remembered how he struggled to not look at the criminal because he was afraid he might start thinking of doing unjust things to the person who almost killed you. He sighed.

"I should've stayed with you. That would've never happened."

"No no, chin up Matsuu! The fire didn't even fully touch me 'cause even it was intimidated of how hot I am compared to it." You chuckled, casting him a wistful glance. "I was reckless. My bad. And that recklessness led to that. So take it from me. Think thoroughly before you act. I wouldn't want the same thing happening to you, you reckless bean."

"Noted Madame!" He laughed.

You smiled and looked up the sky, tapping his shoulder moments later.

"Yes, [Y/N]?"

"You stargaze often?"

"Not really. I can't remember the last time I did. Do you like stargazing?"

"Needless to say. I often do it. You should, too." You nudged his shoulder with yours, your proximity making you blush. You both threw your heads back and stared at the stars in silence. You began making random patterns. Matsuda giggled as he found one that looked like the initial of your name.. or as he had tried to convince himself.

"This peacefulness, it's my dolce vita! Nothing but the question of how many stars we could count. I can do this for hooours."

"Your neck will turn numb.. Mine's already feeling a little.. eh."

"There's no need to worry when we can just lie down."

You could see the redness of his cheeks after hearing that. You could almost giggle.

The two of you lay down on the grass, him spacing out a little. His shoulders were tense, his heart banging his sternum that he was afraid you'd hear just how loud it was. But eventually he relaxed when he saw you not minding the proximity at all.

Matsuda looked up, his smile growing larger and larger the more stars his eyes caught. But he had completely forgotten the counting-star-thing you said.

The night was silently still. Television from the inside had been turned off so the only noise you heard even from the distance was the sound of nature. You controlled your breath, afraid that it might disrupt the stillness. You began to grow lethargic from all the star counting. Alas, you gave up and stopped at number 42.

You looked to the side to see what progress had he made. None at all. He was not only staring at you—he was smiling! Looking at you like you are his world!

Once he realized you were also staring at him his face turned beet red. He wanted to look away, but how? There were you, exchanging stares of adoration. Hah. All that was needed was a label.

You had the strongest urge to lean in and kiss him. Kiss him? Oh [Y/N], control your thoughts! Sigh. If nothing would miraculously interrupt the stare session, you'd really kiss him.

Nothing. Nothing. The universe was in favor of you. And you know the drill.

You took the opportunity to face him and lift yourself up from the grass. Your stare could've frozen him on his position. He was going to explode in mushiness. It's almost like the wind was all it would take for your lips to press.

You rested your elbow on the grass and gently caressed his hair. You cupped his cheek with your other hand, your thumb circling it. You closed your eyes, praying you wouldn't fail this one. You did it slowly on purpose, but seemed like Matsuda opposed that. He inclined and cupped your face, kissing you.

But only for a mere second.

Your torso clumsily fell flat partially on him and the ground because of your initial awkward position. And you didn't even feel the kiss because of your forgotten eyeglasses.

"Aha...haha... Uhm—[Y/N]—you okay?? I'm—"

You sat up and boldly chuckled in spite of looking like a four-eyed tomato.

"That went veeeeery well."

"So.. ah.. the thing earlier.. moments ago—" It's as if he was trying to convince himself that it really happened. And he couldn't contain his infectious smile and laughter anymore that you were sure reached the entire neighborhood.

"What waaas that!"

You laid your glasses aside and tossed yourself at him. He fell on his back with you on his top, your legs in a tangled mess. As he wrapped his arms around your waist, he wheezed.

"I hope you're not dumb at this stuff because I hopelessly am."

"Whaddaya meaann?" You were certain he was teasing you. You clicked your tongue.

"....Silly! We're a couple now!"

"HAHAH—wait—you're not joking?? Are you?? No??"

"Do I look like I am?"

"Hah-hah, as in, you're serious-serious? [Y/N]??"

"Do I look like I'm not? Idiot of course I am! You want me to take it back?"

"Nonononono—" you tried your hardest not to cackle, "—I mean of course I do, but—ah! Stupid mouth! Uhm—well—if that's the case then why should I decline when I really like you for—for a long time now!"

"I'm going to pretend to be shocked. But I—I like you too.. I was just waiting for, uhm, you, to, uhm, confess to me, but that sounds so unlikely.. So, thank you for staring?"

He stared at you eagerly.

"Darn it, that wasn't cool! Nonono—you know what I mean, don't you...? You stared at me, and I wanted to kiss you, and then we're here.. And and—"

"I love you!"

Matsuda hugged you tighter as you became stiff and red with what he just uttered. It's either you move and explode or you don't, so you didn't.

I love you ...

He loves you. And he means it.

You squeezed your eyes shut and bit your lower lip, though unable to restrain a smile.

You cleared your throat.

"M-Matsu... Do you want to stay the night here?"

"Oh, no! Actually.. I should be heading home by now. I've got work to do tomorrow morning."

"Awh bummer I forgot.. Well, let me assist you back there."

"Thank you. I'll.. I'll visit you more often, I promise! Ah—ahem! It's one of my duties now that I'm your boyfriend.." He rubbed his nape, shy in proclaiming. You blushed.

"Hey, but you can't just disappear from your work otherwise the chief will beat your ass. Besides, you're a baby! Can't have a baby constantly slacking off his work, can we?"

"Hey! I am a tough police officer! I'm far from being a baby like you!"

"Ohohoho look who's whining like one!"

"I—If you keep saying that I really won't visit you!"

"Fine with me. I'll just find others to hang out with."

His sulky pout fueled your eruption of cackling. You put your head on his shoulder and wrapped your arms around his waist from the side.

"I'm only kidding! Of course I only have my eyes set on you!"

"That better be true.. or I will arrest that man trying to steal my girl." He squished your cheeks. "Oh, and that reminds me—I have something to say to you.."

"I bet on my life it's gonna be one of those pickup lines.."

"No no this is a good one, promise! Ehem. Are you a cr—"

"DON'T! I just know what you're going to say! No no no!"

"I haven't even s—"

"I heard that pickup line way to many times already! Don't you dare!"

Matsuda sighed. "At least I tried.. I just wanted to make you smile.."

You shifted behind him, back-hugging him and patting his tummy as you rested your chin on his shoulder.

"There is no need for that when just seeing you can already make me smile.."

Matsuda grinned, placing his hands above yours.

"I didn't know [Y/N] was so cheesy."

"H-Hey! At least it's not as bad as that 'are you a criminal cause you stole my heart' thingy you were going to say!" You protested. He laughed loudly as a response. "Psh. Time to go home now, officer."

"Uh...?" He looked back at you and your position.

"Go go go."

Still confused, he started walking through the backdoor, with you never letting him go. It was not an ideal position, and when he passed by your parents in the living room to bid them goodbye, they only snorted, unable to believe your clinginess.

Once you two were near the front door, you let go of him.

"Goodnight Touta. Please be safe on your way home. Text me as soon as you get home, okay?"

He opened the door, nodding. "Don't worry [Y/N], I will. Although.. I might be safer if you give me a lucky charm."

"What lucky charm?"

He pointed his cheeks. "...Here, please?"

"Aw I thought you'd never ask!" You leaned closer to peck his right cheek. But instead of his cheek, it was his lips that you kissed. Matsuda had turned his face a millisecond just before your lips could press his cheek. You couldn't help but smile in the kiss. He was, too. Eventually you two pulled away, with triumph written all over his face.

"Touta.. You.."

"Ahaha... Is that the time? Oh, byebye [Y/N]! Thank you for the lucky charm. Goodnight, dream a little dream of me!"

He kissed your cheek before leaving your house, looking back every now and then as he walked away, and still waving goodbye to you. You smiled and shamelessly threw flying kisses at him.

You closed the door once he was out of sight, leaning your back against it dreamily. You thought, that night couldn't get any better. You glanced to the right, your parents whose eyeballs looked like it would come out of its sockets greeting you. You laughed and shook your head before they could say anything, and then headed to your room.

And maybe you did dream a little dream of him that night...

[vivilove-jonsa]

Can I do a combo of prompts? Lemonade stand + underwear? You can totally choose one or the other btw!

Hello, my dear, and thank you for the prompt from this post. It took me a bit to come up with something and I settled on a 50s AU for the aesthetic of it. I hope you like it alright. And instead of underwear, it's more like lemonade stand and bikini 😉

**

A lazy afternoon in the summer of ’59, Mother’s got a headache and has asked Sansa to keep the boys outside and out of trouble. (No one has to be asked to keep Sansa out of trouble. She’s never in any. And of course, Robb and Arya have escaped off to somewhere else while Daddy’s still at his office.)

After Sansa had nixed tree climbing and setting off cherry bombs as entertainment, Bran and Rickon had begrudgingly agreed to a lemonade stand. Sansa suspected they were mostly interested for the sake of getting to drink as much lemonade as they can hold and she’s proven correct. They disappeared to the backyard twenty minutes ago.

This was not the plan today.

The plan was Sansa and her best friend in their brand new bikinis laying out front to paint their toenails, listen to the transistor radio and work on their tans where boys might notice them.

Admittedly, there were a couple of flaws in that plan.

One, Sansa Stark doesn’t tan. She burns and freckles. No matter how much Coppertone she slathers on, she’s never going to tan like Jeyne.

And two, no boys have seemed to notice them so far. Just grody old Mr. Baelish from down the block. He’s driven past Sansa’s house four times now in the past hour. He makes her skin crawl.

The only so-called boy who’s even around to notice them in fact is Sansa’s next door neighbor Jon Snow who is currently cutting the grass at his house and making it hard to hear Little Richard belting out ‘Tutti Frutti.’

Jon and Robb used to play together when they were younger but somewhere along the way their interests diverged. Robb wears his letterman’s jacket and always has football on the brain. Jon’s got a leather jacket and a motorcycle.

His father’s never been around, his mother’s gone a lot. He smokes cigarettes and Sansa’s seen some of the crowd he hangs around with at school. Mother says he’s probably trouble. (And good girls like Sansa probably shouldn’t want to be noticed by a boy like that, right?)

But he also has the dreamiest eyes, dreamier than Ricky Nelson’s. He used to call her Red when they were younger and she used to think it was cute. (She might still think it’s cute if he still called her that.)

He wears his curls slicked back and pops the collar of his leather jacket before he revs his motorcycle loudly a few times every morning when he’s heading off to school. (Of course, Sansa’s only noticed because Robb drives her and they usually leave the same time. It’s not like she’s that interested in what Jon Snow does even if he’s a little like James Dean and Marlon Brando rolled into one.)

Anyway, here she sits, feeling quite conspicuous in her red and white polka dot bikini, at a lemonade stand like she’s still twelve or something, abandoned by her little brothers and even Jeyne who’d said she’d go get some magazines for them to look at once they’d been saddled with the babysitting but hasn’t returned yet. She feels more than a little sorry for herself. At least the stand is in a shady spot and she’s no longer on the verge of getting good and sunburnt.

“Hey, Red. How much for a glass?”

She whirls around to find Jon Snow is right behind her, sweaty in his jeans and white tee with little bits of grass clippings sticking to his muscled forearms. She hadn’t even noticed the mower shutting off. (He called her Red, too.)

“A nickel for a glass,” she says, reciting what Bran had painstakingly spelled out on the spare bit of cardboard she’d found for a sign and attached to the front of her parents’ card table. Why is she blushing?

He smirks and starts digging in his front pocket.

“But it’s free for you!”

He stops digging and raises his eyebrows.

“I mean…you’re our neighbor and you’ve been working hard and…there’s no charge.” She can feel the blush deepening and wonders if the sun and heat might be blamed. Probably not.

“My lucky day,” he hums, helping to ease her embarrassment. “Are you going to be selling lemonade out here every day?”

“No,” she laughs. “Bran and Rickon got bored and kind of left me with it so…” She stops her rambling, picks up her mother’s pitcher and pours him a glass. “Here you go.”

She hands it over and their fingers brush together sending little jolts of electricity all through her. Their eyes are locked and she can feel her cheeks tugging upward to form a smile that matches his. He really does have the dreamiest eyes and she doesn’t care if he rides a motorcycle or smokes cigarettes. Maybe he’s a little bit of trouble but maybe Sansa might enjoy a little trouble in her life. Always being the good girl has its drawbacks, too.

He brings the glass up to his lips (he has very full and pouty lips) and tips it back. She watches the way his throat bobs as he drinks, the way the sweat on his skin glistens even in the shady spot where the stand sits. He drinks the entire glass down without pause. A trickle of the liquid escapes his mouth and goes streaking down his chin and neck. He’ll be all sticky there. Sansa turns her head to lick her lips and touch her brow. What has come over her?

“Mmmm…that’s sweet and tart, just the way it should be,” he says, smacking his lips as he sets the glass back down on the table.

“Thanks. I made it myself.”

“I figured. I’m not sure I’d want to try anything your brothers made. They’re busy digging holes in your backyard at the moment by the way.”

“What?”

“Yeah. Unless your dad was wanting to put in a golf course back there, I’m not sure what the purpose is.”

“They’re…they…OH!”

She races off around back to catch the two felons hard at work digging holes for…reasons? She scolds them both until they apologize and promise to fill the holes at once. Sansa assures them if they’ll do that it can be their little secret. No need to bother Mother and her headache with it.

She hurries back out front to see if Jon has returned to his yard, secretly hoping he hasn’t.

He hasn’t. He’s still there.

“Did you want some more lemonade?” she asks, trying to think of a reason to keep him there.

“Nah, I…” He looks around, reaches up towards the collar of his tee and lets his hand drop just as quick. He gives her a shy grin. “I didn’t know if you wanted some company at your stand. I saw that creep driving by earlier when you girls were out and I thought…I could stick around for a bit…if you wanted.”

She nods and thanks him, telling him she’d love to have his company while they wait for Bran and Rickon to come take back over. Of course, her little brothers aren’t coming to take back over. They’re busy filling in holes in the backyard. They’ve forgotten all about the lemonade stand.

Sure enough, Mr. Baelish’s Chevy does make a return trip down the street a few minutes later. But Jon stands up when it does, stands right in front of where she’s sitting. She doesn’t know if Jon makes any gestures or just glares but the Chevy speeds on past and doesn’t return.

And when Jeyne returns at long last with her stack of magazines, her eyes boggle at the sight of Jon Snow still sitting next to Sansa at the stand and the two of them talking and laughing.

Sansa wonders how shocked her friend might be when she tells her that she’s got a date with him Saturday night.

[thebigqueer]

idk what ask game you’re doing, but valgrace or jercy? 🤔

oh look who it is, the cat emoji person </3

the ask game is just like. stuff. okay anyway im gonna do valgrace because ive personally never made headcanons for them before and im curious as to what my mind can come up for them. 

who’s the cuddler: hmmmm i honestly think Leo would be the cuddler because i dont know i feel like he’d just love to be all wrapped up in Jason’s arms <3

who makes the bed: probably Jason cuz he’s from Camp Jupiter so he’s the kinda person to want to follow rules and shit (Leo would mess up the bed moments later)

who wakes up first: Jason 100%. I feel like he’s a morning person, and I think in the mornings Leo would make a show about having to wake up just so Jason can pick him up from bed because LKJDFLKSFD

who has the weird taste in music: LKJDSFLJK I JUST CANON THAT JASON HAS WEIRD MUSIC TASTE AND I DONT KNOW WHY

who is more protective: I personally think they’re both protective of each other, but i think Jason might be more external about it. He and Leo have e bOND

who sings in the shower: LEO HAHAH i just feel like he’d sing badly on purpose to ruin jason’s morning and even though its hella annoying jason just likes to know that leo’s having fun <3

who cries during movies: leo for sure but jason would pretend to not care and then go into the kitchen for popcorn and literally sob his eyes out

who spends the most shopping: hmmmm honestly im not really sure. i feel like leo and jason would be the kind of people that are always looking for new things for their house so theyd buy. like. everything. so i think theyd equally spend the most. 

who kisses more roughly: 0-0

who is more dominate: 0-0

who burns the dinner: lkLSKDFKJSFD I THINK THEYRE BOTH TERRIBLE COOKS OOPS but i think definitely Leo cuz. you know. he’s made of flames. 

who picks the restraunt to eat: Leo because he likes only the Finest Restaurants TM and expects nothing less from his beloved

who forgets dates: i think they’d both forget dates because i feel like Jason would be the busy kind of person and for Leo I just think he can be forgetful, but when they both realize they’ve forgotten a date they just laugh

who has to remind the other to take their meds/pump/clean their medical equiptment: i think Jason would tell Leo more often because he’s probably forgetful, but from time to time Leo would do the same to him. 

who has to remind the other to go to bed: jason, for sure, because I think Leo’s always going to be caught up in some new invention or project that he’s super excited about and Jason just wants him to sleEP FOR GODS SAKE JUST SLEEP I KNOW YOU LOVE IT BUT COME ON LEO

who makes breakfast in bed: leo will make breakfast, completely ruin the breakfast, then give it to jason and be like “i tried, sparky, I really did” 

who will eat food no matter if it is under/over cooked: Leo. 100%

who is more likely to get lost: i think Leo

my raiting for the ship 1-10: dont hurt me but id say 7.5/10 simply because im still learning about valgrace, and its not quite my otp but its certainly cute and makes A LOT of sense. 

[silver-wield]

Can you do an analysis on Cloud and Tifa’s body language during that scene when they’re in Cloud’s room and he’s slyly referring to his promise to Tifa? There was crazy sexual tension in that scene and it honestly looked like Cloud was subtly being flirty with her 😭

No probs, Nonny! I actually already touched on their body language in a reply to a gif set of this bit, so we'll just expand on that ^=^

Ok, spoiler warning for ppl who haven't played – do I still need to do this? Eh ok, (I tag FF7R spoilers as final fantasy 7 remake spoilers) and it's gonna be a VERY long one so prepare to scroll.

Also, this is one person's interpretation of the scene, so if you disagree that's cool and we'll agree to disagree.

You're also gonna have to excuse the janky quality on some of the screens, I'm grabbing them from Youtube and it's frustrating af trying to get the exact moment I want.

Other analyses if anyone's interested.

Shinra HQ vision scene (Cloti/plot analysis) 

Chapter 3 (Cloti reblog) 

Tifa character analysis 

Aerith Resolution (plot analysis/theory – I should probably update this since I've had other ideas since then) 

Train graveyard (not really an analysis, but I got some sweet screenshots of Cloti) 

Clotiscrew tunnel analysis 

Cloti reunion analysis 

The Promise Analysis 

Andrea's approval (Cloti ask response) 

Leslie analysis (not mine, but a good read) 

Cloti action touching 

Aerti friendship analysis 

Now, strap in and enjoy the ride.

Keep reading

Recap time! Yall know the drill by now if you've read my other ramblings.

Chapter 3, where we get a room (lol), do some jobs and have a chat with Tifa. It's pretty basic stuff until the cut scene after Marle gives Cloud a talking to. She's the overprotective grandmother figure that Tifa needs in her life and she wants to make sure Cloud isn't messing with her. Now, why would she think that? Well, maybe she picked up some hints when Tifa mentioned Cloud to her about wanting a place to stay? Marle's pretty sharp, after all, and if she got the impression Tifa is carrying a torch, she'd definitely make sure Cloud's not about to blow it out. She tells him to pay attention to her, to listen. This is the very first instance of Cloud taking in that kind of info and it changes how he treats others for the rest of the game.

After the chapter 4 mission where Cloud reflects on his promise to Tifa, it's back to the slums for some rest. Then Tifa knocks on his door and enters. She mentions Cloud was gone for a while, and he answers he was walking so that he keeps Jessie's secret – because he's that kind of guy.

Small talking Tifa is cute, but lol, Cloud seems to have purposely forgotten Johnny since he's yet another admirer of Tifa. For a guy who doesn't forget info like morons who could cause them trouble in the long run, it's pretty telling how quickly he is to dismiss Johnny.

Onto something more interesting in this pic, though. Cloud is sitting on the bed. Now, if he wasn't comfortable around Tifa he'd have got up. His eyeline is lower than hers so he has to look up at her. This puts her in a position of dominance over him – also not surprising since his mentality is that of a 16yr old around her and she's the adult in the relationship. Tifa for her part has her body turned to the side in a non-confrontational pose.

Tifa has her hands clasped in front of herself (couple of seconds before this screen) which indicates she's trying to protect herself as she asks the question if Cloud is leaving Midgar. Not surprising since she's afraid of losing people she cares about and even just someone heading off somewhere else would upset her, though she'd try not to show it.

Cloud, for his part, looks away, appearing as though he's thinking it over, but we're already aware he's decided to stay and help Tifa out, so this is a fake out on his part. He's half-teasing, half trying to get a positive response from her (remember the water tower? Yeah, this is that Cloud. The dork. The one who is useless at talking to girls).

I'm sorry, but Cloud is such a cheeky bastard I just can't with him! This is giving me all the throwbacks to his behaviour at the water tower and I love that it mirrors that moment, but with more success on his part this time. He's looking all around trying not to give himself away before it's needed. He's smiling and looks relaxed. He might be sitting but he definitely believes he has the upper hand between them at this point. Remember, I've said before that eye contact is important. Well, in this case, Cloud's deliberate refusal to make eye contact shows he's teasing. This is such a cute moment between them!

Oh ho! But here's where his teasing ends. Cloud is being completely serious and obviously took the promise between them as being special. Ducking his head out of sight completely prevents us from seeing his expression and allows him to act in a casual way about something that's such an important part of who he became. But, he's not quite pulling it off because he's also looking quite defensive in this pose. His hands are clasped in front of him and he's leaning forward, looking at the floor. This is something very meaningful for him to talk about and he's hoping Tifa doesn't brush it off, so if he doesn't look at her he won't have to see her reaction.

Tifa's obviously got her own interpretation of how that promise went. We can guess she did it because she just wanted a guarantee she'd see Cloud again some day from how she acted during the water tower cut scene. Here, she's leaning back on her hands which leaves her body language open, but also conceals something. She's looking down, the same way Cloud did. She's also hiding her true feelings towards Cloud the same way he's hiding from her, but she's being as honest as she can be as the same time. I've seen people call Tifa a liar because of how she doesn't address Cloud's memory problems in OG, but when you really take a close look at her, lying just isn't her. This is a complex moment between them. They've not long met again and they're having this heavy conversation. The feelings between them are still there, but there's all this other stuff that's more important. But, they know they're friends, and that's a good place to start getting to know each other again, and Cloud choosing to stay is that first step, with the quick follow up of him reminding her of their shared history.

Cloud, you smooth bastard I love you for this! This is definitely flirting! He's looking directly at her, then dips his head to the side in an inviting gesture. His eyes soften and he gets this tiny smile on his face. His body language has changed, too. He's sitting up and back slightly with both arms by his sides. There's no more defensiveness about him. He wants to listen to her. Cloud is choosing to ask for Tifa's confidence. He's letting her know she can rely on him. That he's interested.

For her part, Tifa's pleased, but surprised. She's not long got back in touch with Cloud and, while he's been a decent guy, she's had the overall impression he isn't the same as the soft boi she knew, so this is a revelation for her. The Cloud she knew is still within this Cloud – which anyone who knows the real!Cloud SOLDIER!Cloud storyline is exactly the point of this moment. Tifa knows his true self. The true self that comes out only when he's with her.

Cloud, bro, I'm gonna combust from all these flirty gestures! Fully open body language, a smile, teasing tone. Goddamnit, just say you love her already! Yes, please, invite Tifa to check you out. Remember, he's still sitting. He's so relaxed and natural around her. Even if all you saw was two friends and no ship, you'd be insane to think he isn't a different person in this scene. He's not SOLDIER Cloud here.

Tifa, for her part, isn't flirting here. She likes Cloud, that's clear, and her body language is reaching towards him, which suggests she has feelings towards him, but her tone is more playful and her expression is pleased. She's happy to see her friend isn't too different from the one she knows. Most of the flirting in this scene is on Cloud's side, which makes sense when you think of the torch he's been carrying for her. He's trying to get her attention, same way he did when they were kids. Tifa's oblivious but receptive because she likes him back, but she won't show it as much because she thinks he's not interested. Someone knock their heads together please lol

OMG FUCKING HELL CLOUD JUST TELL HER YOU LOVE HER! Leaning back on the bed, totally vulnerable body language, drawing attention to the bod in an attempt to spark her interest – since he's clearly interpreted this line from Tifa as a rejection – this boi is trying so hard! He even looks a little disappointed she's not more impressed with SOLDIER Cloud, but we knew she preferred the dork anyway lol

Now, I know everyone talks about the physical and emotional distance between them here, which is obvious, but what I'm gonna point out is after feeling like SOLDER Cloud has been rejected by Tifa – thanks to her preference for the real deal – Cloud looks away from her. She's brushed him off and he's hiding his upset by not meeting her eyes.

Tifa is still oblivious to this, but Cloud definitely has a look of disappointment on his face.

Now, after that last bit you'd think Cloud would assume he's got no chance, but then Tifa says how glad she is to have him back and that cheers him up. He's still in that mindset of a 16yr old with a crush, whereas Tifa's moved on. She's had 5 years apart from him (she thinks it's 7, I know, but he saw her in Nibelheim and how she'd matured a little). She's not thinking of him in an openly romantic sense, whereas Cloud is definitely still deep in his feelings for her. Hearing she's happy to see him hints to him that he might still have a chance with her if they spend more time together. His soft af goodnight is the last indicator of his strong feelings for her. His body language is open once more, he's staring after her with a longing look and a smile and doesn't look away until the door closes.

Conclusion

JUST GET FUCKING MARRIED ALREADY IT'S BEEN 23 YEARS!

Lol seriously though, Cloud is definitely still deep in the throes of his childhood crush. Tifa could resurrect hers with time because it's clear she does still harbour feelings for him, but she's not the type to be pushy or insistent. She'll let Cloud take the lead and offer subtle hints how she feels, hoping he feels the same. She doesn't pick up on Cloud's subtle flirting compared to those more in your face things he tried earlier. Through all of those interactions with her he's definitely trying to say that he likes her and he'd like her to accept his feelings, but the bigger gestures get the brush off, although she blushes and looks shy, and the smaller ones go over her head.

Unfortunately, these two are oblivious af and it's gonna take everyone's help to get them together.

[humanperryfic]

Everybody Needs Somebody to Love

When uncle Perry coughs up a whole flower at breakfast, Candace is understandably worried. She's also confused when she realizes that he has no plans to confess his love.

Despite having no idea what's really going on, and being told not to interfere, Candace is determined to get her uncle and his crush together.

Life might not always be a romance novel, but Candace is going to make it as close as possible.

Title from the Blues Brothers song

AO3/FF.net

TW’s for mild blood

The alarm on Candace's bedside table goes off with an obnoxious beeping noise. Candace groans and throws her arm out, attempting to silence the annoying noise. It's a teacher workday, why did she set her alarm? 

That's right, she wanted a head-start on her busting. Looking out her window, she sees Phineas and Ferb already building. Perfect. 

She rolls out of bed and pulls on her usual outfit before running a brush through her hair. Despite her sleep-deprived brain, she manages to put together a few coherent answers to Stacy's overnight texts before leaving her room.

Candace stumbles down the stairs to the kitchen, barely managing to avoid tripping over her own feet. It's early, and she was awake until almost one in the morning last night. 

The only person who's in the kitchen is uncle Perry, who's pouring himself a bowl of cereal. Good morning, he signs. 

"Morning," she grumbles, scrubbing at her eyes to rid them of the typical early-morning bleariness. "Where's mom and dad?"

Antiques convention, remember?

Candace sighs. That's right. Mom and dad are at a three-day antiques convention over the long weekend, leaving Perry in charge. Which means no busting. As long as they're safe, Perry's perfectly fine with what the boys create.

If he's ever there to see the creations. He's always getting called off for work. 

Candace pulls her mug out of the cupboard, adds a teabag, and sets it next to Perry's, waiting for the kettle to boil. She could use the caffeine.

Stacy texts her back, so she sits down at the table to answer. After she sends the message, she puts her head down on the table. It's too early for anything to happen.

Perry sits down across from her, the bowl making a soft thump against the wood. He snaps his fingers to get her attention. 

Candace pries one eye open. "mmm-yeah?"

You should eat.

She shrugs. "After tea."

Suit yourself. 

Candace lays her head back on the table. It's still way too early to think about anything.

Perry starts coughing. Candace raises an eyebrow, still not picking her head up off the table. He's been sick since her freshman year, you'd think he'd be fine by now. Or at least that he'd see a doctor. It's kind of weird.

Eh, he's always been weird. He travels all over the place for work. He says he's a sort of special cop, but never wants to talk about his job. He doesn't talk, only makes that weird chattering noise. And he's always really weird about those Hanahaki soap operas, even though they're Candace's favorite.

Still, the cough is rather strange. 

Candace opens one eye just in time to see Perry spit an entire white rose flecked with blood into the palm of his hand. 

Now fully awake, she watches as he makes a face, gets up, throws the rose into the garbage can under the sink, and starts to wash his hands, unaware of Candace's staring. 

Well, that makes sense. 

Sort of. There are still a lot of things wrong with this. 

Now that she's awake, she might as well eat breakfast. She stands up and moves to the cupboard, getting a bowl out. Setting the bowl down with a purposeful clank (it's never a good idea to startle uncle Perry), Candace turns to get the milk out of the fridge."So when were you going to tell us you had Hanahaki?"

Perry turns around, surprise painted on his face. Candace continues. "Seriously. That was an entire flower. How long have you been hiding this?"

He sighs. Almost two years. Candace gasps. Two years and she never suspected a thing? That was his mysterious sickness? "Who is it?"

Just someone I work with. 

"And you never thought to tell us."

I told your parents.

Candace pours milk into the bowl. "I guess that's something. Are you going to confess?"

He looks to the backyard, where Phineas and Ferb are starting to build, and shakes his head. I'm getting it removed in three weeks. 

Candace gapes. Removed? After two years of pain and suffering and blood covered roses? "You're just going to give up?" she asks. 

Perry shrugs and turns off the tap. He's not interested in me, what else can I do? 

"He might be. You never know." Perry raises an eyebrow as he sits back down at the table. "I mean, if Jeremy and I can get together, you and your crush can too," Candace continues. 

Life isn't a romance novel. Sometimes it just doesn't work out.

"Have you even tried?"

Like I said, he's not interested.

"I hate to suggest this, but maybe the boys could help out?"

No.

"Why not? I bet they could make your crush have feelings for you."

If it's forced, it would make it even worse.

"It's worth a shot, right?"

No, it's not.

"Really?"

Coughing up flowers isn't fun or cute. He grimaces. It's actually pretty painful.

"You're really no fun."

See, this is why I didn't want to tell anybody. At Candace's affronted look, he continues. I'm an adult, I can deal with my own feelings. If that means getting rid of them, so be it. End of story.

"But-but-but I could help too!"

Perry narrows his eyes. End of story, Candace.

Candace pours her cereal into the milk. "Fine, whatever."

Look, I know you want to help, but I'd prefer to get through the next few weeks without dying.

Candace's eyes go wide. She'd completely forgotten that people could die from Hanahaki. Once they start coughing up full flowers, they've got only a few months left without intervention. "Oh," she says, her voice now small and meek. 

It's scary, I know. Trust me when I say the surgery is the best option. 

The kettle starts to whistle, so Perry takes it off the stove and pours the hot water into their mugs. Candace sits down at the table and starts to eat. "So there's really nothing else you can do?"

Nothing I can do at this point without making it worse. I suppose if he liked me back then it would be different, but I can't influence that.

A lightbulb goes off in Candace's head. Maybe uncle Perry can't ask this guy about it...but she can. She can convince this guy that Perry would be the best boyfriend ever!

"Tell me about this guy." She'll need some information if she wants to find him. 

Well, Perry says, handing Candace her mug, he's got brown hair, blue eyes, and he's about six foot two, although he slouches. 

Perry's watch goes off, and Candace groans internally. He always has to go to work at the worst times. "What's his name?"

For a brief moment, Perry looks conflicted. Heinz Doofenshmirtz, he signs. 

"Doofenshmirtz like the mayor?"

Perry nods, drinking most of his tea in one gulp. I have to leave. 

"Evil never rests, I know." Perry smiles. "Don't worry, I'll make sure nothing explodes while you're gone."

Perry smiles. See you later.

Candace nods and waves. As soon as Perry is in the garage, she puts her bowl of cereal in the sink and darts up the stairs. She grabs her purse out of her room and puts her phone and earbuds in it. She's about to go back down the stairs when she gets another idea. 

She has a whole lot of pictures of Jeremy- and she didn't even have Hanahaki. Uncle Perry has to have a picture of his crush somewhere. That will help narrow down the search.

Carefully, she pulls her Ducky Momo 33rd Anniversary Commemorative lock pick out of her purse and picks the lock on the door to his room. She feels a little weird, but this is a love or death situation. 

The lock opens with a click, and she opens the door. 

The room is about what she expected. Neat, for the most part. There's a stack of cheesy romance novels on the bedside table, a bookmark in one. On his desk, there's a tall stack of paperwork. Several papers are stamped with Classified in red ink, but Candace ignores them. She has other things to look for. 

She opens the top drawer of the desk. Pens, sticky notes, and paper clips. The next drawer down holds envelopes, a Classified stamp, and a red ink pad. 

The bottom drawer is locked. Once again, her Ducky Momo lock pick comes in handy. 

In the drawer is what looks like a grappling hook, a strange red disk, and a green box. 

Candace picks up the grappling hook and the disk and puts them on the desk. Gingerly opening the box, she finds it stuffed full of immaculately cleaned white roses, with a few  pictures along the sides. 

She looks at the pictures first. Each one has uncle Perry with the same guy. A slouching man with brown hair and blue eyes, dressed in a lab coat. 

This must be the guy. Heinz Doofenshmirtz. 

But where would she find him? The only connection she knows is that uncle Perry works with him. 

That's it. She'll just follow uncle Perry to work. Candace puts one of the pictures and a few of the fresher roses into her purse. On second thought, she adds the grappling hook and the red disk. 

She can hear Perry's motorcycle revving in the garage. She closes the drawer, then runs out of Perry's room and down the stairs.

Candace opens the garage door and wheels her bike out. Thank god for Phineas and Ferb outfitting it with rocket boosters, she'll need them to catch up with Perry's motorcycle. 

She only makes it to the end of the driveway before she hears a very loud, scary sounding bang come from the backyard. Despite her new mission, her boys-busting senses tell her to investigate.

Nearly trampling Baljeet, she dashes to the gate and throws it open. "What was that?" she demands. 

Phineas grins. "It's our new rivet gun! Isn't it cool?"

"Pfft. It's a rivet gun. How cool can it be?"

Ferb merely rivets another piece of metal, producing a similar bang. "Very cool, Candace, very cool," Phineas says. 

"Whatever." Candace rolls her eyes and jogs back around the front of the house to her bike. She pedals down to the first stop sign before she realizes that uncle Perry is long gone by now. She'll never be able to catch up to him. 

Maybe there's another way she can find his crush. How many Doofenshmirtzes are there in Danville? This Heinz might be related to Mayor Doofenshmirtz somehow. 

Downtown Danville, here she comes. 

~~~

Candace makes it to City Hall in twenty minutes. She locks her bike to the rack outside and walks in. 

"How may I help you?" the bored-looking receptionist asks. 

"I'd like to talk to Mayor Doofenshmirtz?" Candace asks. 

"Name?"

"Candace Flynn."

"He'll be free in a few minutes. You can wait here." The receptionist points to a small waiting area. 

"Thank you," Candace says, and she sits down. 

What a day. And it's not even close to being over. 

Her phone rings. It's Jeremy. She picks it up right away. 

"Hey Jeremy," she says. 

"Hey Candace," he says. "I was wondering if you wanted to hang out later today?"

Candace thinks. Yeah, hanging out with Jeremy would be great, but she has a mission. "Sorry, but I'm doing something for uncle Perry today. I might be able to do something tomorrow, though."

Jeremy laughs. "You're such a good niece. See you tomorrow?"

"See you tomorrow."

"Love you."

"Love you." Candace ends the call with a click. 

Vanessa Doofenshmirtz walks in the door. "Hey Candace."

"Hi Vanessa," Candace says. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, I wanted to talk to uncle Roger. He's probably busy, though. What about you?"

"I was waiting to do the same thing. Waiting to talk to the Mayor, at least. He's not my uncle."

"Really." Candace nods. "I don't know if he'll talk to you, he's always crazy busy."

Candace sighs. Maybe this lead won't work out after all. 

Except...Vanessa Doofenshmirtz. Related to Roger. Is she related to Heinz?

"So why are you here?" Vanessa asks.

Candace pulls one of the pictures out of her purse, as well as one of the roses. "My uncle Perry," she points at Perry, "has Hanahaki for this guy," she points at the other man, "Heinz Doofenshmirtz. I wanted to ask the mayor, since they have the same last name. Do you know him?"

"Know him?" Vanessa laughs. "He's my dad."

Candace's eyes grow wide. "Your dad? That's perfect! Do you know if your dad likes my uncle? Like, like-likes him?"

Vanessa looks at the flower in Candace's hand. "I'm pretty sure he does, but you'd have to ask him directly."

Another lead. Perfect. "Where is your dad?"

Vanessa shrugs. "Probably at Blueprint Heaven. He's kind of an inventor."

"Thanks so much."

"I should warn you though, he's kind of cold. He'll probably just shrug you off."

Candace shrugs. "I'm not worried."

"Okay, then good luck."

Candace jumps out of her seat. "Thanks, Vanessa. See you later." She stuffs the photo and the rose back in her purse, then walks out the door. She unlocks her bike from the rack and hops on it. Thankfully, Blueprint Heaven isn't too far. 

Her legs are burning by the time she makes it to the blueprint store. She peeks inside, watching as a slouching man with brown hair, wearing a lab coat, purchases a few blueprints. That must be him. 

As the man leaves the shop, she puts out her arm.

"Hey, watch it, kid," the man says.

"I have something to ask you," Candace says. "Are you Heinz Doofenshmirtz?"

"That's Doctor Doofenshmirtz to you. And if you're selling those Fireside Girl cupcakes, I already bought two dozen."

Candace rolls her eyes and pulls the photo out of her purse. "I want to ask you about this picture."

The man pulls out a pair of reading glasses and studies the picture. "What do you want to ask me?"

Candace points at Perry. "Do you like-like this guy?" 

"That's a rather strange question to ask, isn't it?"

"Danville's a strange place."

Dr. Doofenshmirtz shrugs. "You got me there. Y'know, he looks like this other guy I know." He points at the picture. "What's his name?"

"Perry," Candace says. 

"Really? I, uh, work with a guy named Perry. Sort of. We're like, work rivals. He's really nice though, even if he doesn't talk much." 

Candace's Busting Senses start to tingle. "I wonder if they're the same guy?"

Dr. Doofenshmirtz hums. "Maybe. It'd be just like him to be all mysterious and suave and all that." He pauses to cough into the arm of his lab coat. When he pulls his arm away, the sleeve is red and covered in petals. "Oh, come on, I just washed this one."

"You have Hanahaki?" Candace asks. "Can I see the flowers?" 

He looks at Candace funny. "I guess? They're roses, white ones." He wipes one of the petals off on his lab coat and shows it to her. "You know, I googled the meaning, and they mean young love and innocence and all that stuff. I mean, it's like the last thing I'd relate with him."

"So your soulmate is your work rival," Candace clarifies.

"Awkward, right? Man, the universe really has it out to get me."

Candace merely nods along. This...inventor has the same flower as uncle Perry. Another strange coincidence. Or is it? Is there another Heinz Doofenshmirtz in the Tri-State area?

"Listen, it was great talking with you, but I kinda have to go to work now, so..."

Candace nods. "Nice meeting you."

"Likewise," Dr. Doofenshmirtz says, and he walks off down the road. 

Hmm. Perry has Hanahaki for a guy named Heinz Doofenshmirtz that he works with. This Heinz (sorry, doctor) Doofenshmirtz has Hanahaki for a guy named Perry that he's work rivals with. Vanessa told her that her dad Heinz likes Perry, and Perry's got a picture of him with his crush Heinz.

They've got to be the same guys. 

And they must be pining over each other. 

What idiots. Uncle Perry said this was nothing like a romance novel, but it practically is.

Candace watches as Dr. Doofenshmirtz walks into the apartment building shaped like Ferb's head. The one that says Doofenshmirtz Evil Incorporated on its front...wait, what?

The final pieces click together. Doofenshmirtz Evil Incorporated. Perry always says "Evil never rests" when he runs off to work. This guy mentioned that he and Perry are work rivals. Could Perry be fighting this guy for work?

No wonder Perry didn't want to get with his crush. If they're on opposite sides of the great Good and Evil debate, dynamics change.

This just got a whole lot more interesting. 

Candace is still getting them together. Secret relationships can work. 

She sizes up the apartment building. A person on a jetpack flies up to the balcony, landing and disappearing from view. That must be Perry. She runs down the street and tugs on the door of the building.

Damn it, it's one of those buildings where the residents have to buzz people in. She doesn't have time to wait around for someone to let her in. There's got to be another way.

She looks into her purse. The red disk says "Standard Issue Glider" on the bottom, with a button. Good to know, but that won't work right now. 

No, the thing she needs right now is the grappling hook. She's afraid of heights, but this will have to work. She's Candace Flynn, she can do whatever she puts her mind to. If that means grappling up the side of a forty-story building, so be it. It's worth it for love. She steps back, pulls the hook out of her purse, and aims it at the balcony. 

Thankfully, she's still wearing her bike helmet. She fires the grappling hook towards the balcony. Once it sticks, she presses the button on the side and holds on for dear life. The building flashes by in a rush of purple, then she's landing on the balcony with a thud.

It seems that nobody inside noticed her stunt. Dr. Doofenshmirtz has his back to the balcony, and uncle Perry (in a 1940's fedora) is stuck in a net. 

Yep, Good and Evil are clashing in this apartment-slash-lab.

She ducks behind a strange-looking planter. Thankfully, nobody's seen her. She needs a plan. 

Maybe she could just go up to them and tell them about each other? No, that wouldn't work. 

Throw them a paper airplane? She doesn't really have any paper, except for the photo. 

Hmm. What about the roses? Both of them have the same flower, that might spur the connection along.

She peeks around the corner. Uncle Perry and Dr. Doofenshmirtz are fighting now, sparring as if they've done it a thousand times before. Candace bites down on the inside of her cheek to keep herself from cheering. 

Uncle Perry lands one more kick, then throws his hat across the room. It hits a big red button on the side of a machine, and the machine promptly explodes. Candace ducks to protect herself from the flying bits of metal. 

However, instead of leaving, uncle Perry goes to help Dr. Doofenshmirtz up. They move to another part of the lab, where a small kitchen is. Dr. Doofenshmirtz pours them both glasses of water, handing one to uncle Perry.

Now's the time.

Candace carefully sneaks out of her hiding place. She pulls one of the roses out of her purse, aims, and throws. As soon as the flower leaves her hand, she ducks back behind the wall. After a second, she peeks back around the corner. 

Both uncle Perry and Dr. Doofenshmirtz have tried to cover up the rose, thinking it's their own. They both look away from each other. Even from across the way, Candace can tell how flustered Perry's gotten.

She watches as uncle Perry says something, signing much faster than usual. She thinks she catches the signs for "Hanahaki", "love" and "rose", although it's hard to tell from this far away.

He finishes what he has to say and drops his hands into his lap. For twelve seconds (vintage Ducky Momo Awkward Silence Timer), nothing happens. 

Then Dr. Doofenshmirtz grabs uncle Perry's tie, pulls him in, and kisses him. 

It's all Candace can do to hold back a squeal. 

When they part, neither make eye contact for six and a half seconds. Then Perry signs something, making Dr. Doofenshmirtz laugh. Perry leans up and places a short kiss on Dr. Doofenshmirtz's lips. Both men grin broadly.

Yeah, uncle Perry's going to be alright. 

Candace pulls another one of the roses out of her purse and throws it at the couple, not bothering to hide this time. This one bounces off the back of Perry's head, causing him to look over at the balcony.  

"Enjoy your romance novel ending," she shouts, a broad smile nearly splitting her face in two. Perry gets up from the counter and starts over towards her, a look of shock painted over his face. Candace merely pulls the red disk out of her purse, presses the button on the bottom, and watches as it expands into a red hang glider. 

She winks and salutes, then kicks off the ledge to glide off the balcony. 

As she glides over Danville, she grins. And uncle Perry said it wouldn't work out. Well, she just proved him wrong. 

Something on the glider starts to beep. A tinny voice emanating from a hidden speaker starts to talk. "Warning. Unauthorized use of OWCA tech. Returning to base."

Well, it was fun while it lasted. Candace attempts to let go of the glider as it nears the ground, but cuffs clamp down around her wrists. A rocket engine pops out of the back and steers her in an unknown direction.

Fifteen minutes later, she finds herself in an underground bunker, being stared down by a man with an intimidating mustache and a scrawny intern with a camera. Uncle Perry stands in the background, his hands in his pockets and the beat-up fedora from earlier on his head.

The man with the mustache starts to speak. "Do you know what you've done?'

"I just saved uncle Perry's love life?" she guesses. Behind the intern, Perry shakes his head. Candace can see the amused smile on his face. 

The mustached man sighs. "Not quite. Your uncle Perry is actually a top OWCA agent, and as such, his identity must be kept completely secret." Candace considers this. A secret agent, huh? That certainly explains the grappling hook and the hang glider. 

Man, being a secret agent would be so cool. 

"Candace Flynn," as you have compromised Agent P's position, your memory is going to be wiped."

"What, there's nothing else you can do?"

The intern speaks up. "We could relocate him to another continent, and you'd never see him again." Candace's eyes go wide, and she shakes her head. "Yeah, we figured you'd like the memory wipe option better."

"Anything else you'd like to say, Ms. Flynn?" the mustached man asks. 

Candace thinks for a second. "I don't know, I think uncle Perry owes me something."

For a brief second, Perry looks confused. Then he smiles knowingly. Thank you, Candace. 

"You're welcome. Now, hit me."

The green ray hits her square in the face, and her mind goes fuzzy.

~~~

Candace steps off the bus. Finally, the last day of school. Phineas and Ferb are throwing a party, and for some odd reason, she doesn't even want to bust them for it. 

(That reason has nothing to do with the fact that Jeremy will be there. Nope, nothing at all.)

She runs up the stairs to her backpack down in her room, then runs back out into the backyard. 

Phineas and Ferb have already set up rides, food, and of course, live music. Perks of middle school- they get out earlier.

Already, most of the neighborhood has shown up. It's starting to look like it's going to end up being a big block party. 

Under the tree in the backyard, uncle Perry and some guy in a lab coat are talking. This must be his boyfriend. When Perry sees Candace, he waves her over. 

Candace, I'd like you to meet someone very special to me.

[mcustorm]

Thoughts on Jamie Johnson 5x08

I actually don’t even know what to think. You guys don’t understand. Do you know how serious this episode was? It was so serious, that my afternoon nap was delayed so I could write this post. And only important things stop my head from hitting the pillow.

Last week was Dillon’s glorious coming out, a beautiful moment to put an apex to all the tension between Dillon and Elliot. This week, Dillon’s coming out continues, for better or for worse.

I love how *all* of this episode centered around Dillon coming to terms with being out/being outed. It underlined the significance and severity of the moment. Somebody check up on Patrick Ward’s back because he was carrying this episode, and I know we’re all here for Dillon but he truly is the most fascinating character on the show.

Delliot getting ready to see each other after the previous day’s shocking events was such a cute scene. We all know that the characters on this show tend not to feel any way about anybody romantically, so just seeing those two try to look/smell nice for somebody they may feel some-kind-of-way about...ah, there goes those memories of mine again, haha.

And of course, I for the most part like Elliot’s role as someone who’s a little bit more experienced and can help out a baby gay like Dillon. Elliot being so different from everybody else we’ve met thus far on the show not only makes him fascinating to us, but to Dillon as well. On the other hand, I did not like that 1) Elliot almost immediately went and told Ruby and 2) after helping out Dillon with his gay journey, he mayhaps yeeted off into the sunset.

Ya know, if Hansard and Harry and Indira and Molly and Savage and Wozza and Jethro and Jack’s awesome dad and the different-somehwat-prominent-black-male-extras-on-the-team-each-season didn’t exist, I would have more faith that Elliot might have more of a role in the story moving forward. But this show has proven time and time again that if the character’s name isn’t Jack, then once the story is done with you it’s done. At this point in his journey, it maybe isn’t the best idea that Dillon get involved in a relationship. That makes sense. But to maaaaaybe reduce Elliot to a m*****l n***o? I don’ like det. 

It *seems* from what the show has presented thus far, that the only narrative purpose for Elliot to tell Ruby about Dillon is so that [both in-story and in the writer’s room] Dillon can have a reliable shoulder to lean on who is [and this is the important part] not Elliot. With him out of the picture, now Dillon’s go-to is Ruby if he needs a sounding board. And I have no idea why that’s the story-angle they’re going for. Perhaps Elliot threatens the status quo, which is “all of our characters are hopelessly, eternally single.”

But who knows, maybe I’m completely wrong and these last couple of paragraphs are irrelevant. Maybe not.

SN: Seriously, this show’s ships is definitely an interesting writing decision. Thinking about all the ship inequality thinkpieces that came out of the Andi Mack era, let’s talk about how the only canon het ship on this show that may give you feelings like Delliot is Jack and that rich guy whose name I’ve already forgotten. 

Do you wanna know what? Today was the most sympathetic I’ve ever been for Liam, and yet in this episode he did the most despicable thing he’s ever done. Well, maybe I’m not sympathetic per se, but at least I realize that he’s just another victim of his father’s emotional abuse. You know, Joseph’s brothers felt neglected too, and I never said “well maybe their father could’ve treated them better” when they sold their brother into freakin’ slavery. There has to be a line between seeing Liam as a victim and seeing him as just plain evil. Or maybe it’s a Venn Diagram. Either way, I’m still not a fan. I wonder what redemption for this character looks like.

I just like that this show was so unafraid to go there. It is completely unprecedented in any TV show intended for children/young teens...at least to my knowledge. I’m gonna make it very clear that I’m not trying to downplay other shows’ accomplishments, but coming out really is an internal and external journey. One is how you feel about yourself, and the other is how others react. This is my opinion, but some shows have really got the internal part down (DOAFP was GOAT-tier with this one); however, when the time comes to do the external part, the show either doesn’t go there or kinda just limps over the finish line. Does that make sense? Am I just rambling?

I think of all the programs that I’ve watched, this show has already done the best job of reconciling those two aspects of coming out. Besides The Fosters, perchance. Some people will be right by your side, others may need time. Despite all of the blatant and frankly disgusting homophobia that we saw on the program, the show made it clear that this is just what I said: a journey. There may be hope yet.

Also in this episode: Eric feels bad, because he did wrong and also because his “friends” are being generally dickish to him, and Jamie is also here to tell Dillon he did phenomenally at the cup (which, just a portion of that energy would’ve been great yesterday for the entire team, but go awf Mr. Johnson). I guess I should take away that Jamie and Dillon are in a way better place than they’ve been before. Great.

So there ya go. I must say, that was probably a Top 3 episode of this TV show. Which is why that preview for next week made me say, “Okaaaaay…” So wait, are Boggy and Jamie just like BFF’s again? Are we gonna address the nonsense that Jamie was spewing last week? Are Kat and Zoe just friends like that now? Are we gonna address the nonsense that Zoe was up to last week? WAIT, Freddie wants to spend time with just Alba and Eric? ARE WE GOING TO ADDRESS THE NONSENSE Y’ALL WERE ON LAST WEEK?

I will keep going to bat for Eric, idc idc.

See ya next week. Off to take my nap.

[creampuffqueen]

Deep in the Heart of Texas - Two

a/n: I really need to stop writing instead of doing online school. Whatever. This is kind of a filler chapter; things should be getting more interesting soon. I hope y’all enjoy!

Summary: Aelin Galathynius is ready for the best summer of her life. She’s home from college for the summer, and so are all of her friends. Even her cousin is on a break from the military. Everything is set up to be perfect. Until... her mother decides to let the son of an old family friend stay with them while he grieves the loss of a loved one. And Aelin is not going to let a party pooper ruin her summer.

Rowan Whitethorn has just suffered the biggest loss of his life: the death of his long-time girlfriend, Lyria. His family is sick of him moping around his tiny New York apartment, so they ship him down south for the summer. The last thing Rowan wants is to spend his vacation in Nowhereville, Texas, but he has little choice. Not to mention, the only people his age seem to hate him. How on earth is he going to survive 3 months of this?

“Aelin, we’re home!” Evalin trills as she steps inside. Rhoe is behind her, along with Eleanor and Gavriel. 

“Uncle Gav! Aunt Ellie!” And Aelin feels like a little kid again, running to her aunt and uncle. Gavriel pulls her into a tight hug while Eleanor kisses her head.

“It’s so good to see you. How’s A&M?” Eleanor asks. Aelin walks her family to the living room, telling them everything. All about the professor she hates (“Maeve is still teaching?” Gavriel snorts), and the friends she’s made, and that crazy end-of-year party she went to. 

“Aedion’s out right now.” Aelin tells her aunt before she can ask. Eleanor chuckles, sinking further into the couch. 

“Aelin!” Turning to her mother, Aelin gives her a questioning look.

“What?”

“It’s five! We need to go pick up Rowan from the airport.” Evalin stands up, ready to grab her purse and run out again, but Aelin stops her.

“He’s already here, Mom. His flight got moved up and he got here around two o’clock.” Evalin’s eyes widen.

“Why didn’t you text me? And where is he?”

“Sorry, I forgot.” Aelin sighs lamely. “And he’s asleep in his bedroom. He must have been really tired, I haven’t heard a peep from him all afternoon.”

Aelin’s mother sits down again, pinching the bridge of her nose and shaking her head. Nobody says anything for a long while, until Eleanor stands up suddenly.

“We should get started on dinner, don’t you think? Especially if we have a guest. We don’t want him going hungry, now do we?”

Evalin still doesn’t speak, but she gets up anyway and follows her sister into the kitchen. Leaving Aelin alone with her father and uncle.

“How long are you two in town for, uncle Gav?” She asks.

“I was able to get two weeks off.” Gavriel says with a smile. Eleanor is a teacher, so she’s already off for the whole summer. “We wanted to see y’all before you both went back to school.”

“You remember the Whitethorns, right?” Rhoe interjects. “They’ve been down here a few time when y’all were.”

“How can I forget?” Gavriel chuckles. “I had to scold Aedion for days after he punched one of their kids.”

The two men laugh at old memories, bringing Aelin back, as well. She’d been five years old the first time she met the Whitethorns. 

Enda was six and Sellene was seven, and the three of them got on like wildfire. Aelin showed them all over the house, even the cool secret areas in places she wasn’t supposed to go. Rowan and Aedion had trailed behind, seeming to get along just fine.

But then, as Aelin showed them the cool secret alcove in the library, Rowan had threatened to tell on them for being where they weren’t supposed to. He’d barely turned around to get out of the room before Aedion tackled him.

The rest of the afternoon was a blur, and all Aelin remembered after that was turning to Aedion as the Whitethorns’ car pulled out of the driveway and saying, “I’m so glad they’re gone.”

“Aelin! Come help me chop veggies!” Evalin’s voice from the kitchen pulls her from her memories, and she hurries away from the living room, leaving the two men to chat in peace.

“I’m making chicken spaghetti casserole.” Eleanor says from the stove. The water is at a rolling boil, and her aunt quickly drops in the pieces of chicken to cook while Aelin and Evalin cut up the onions and peppers.

It doesn’t take long before it seems like Aelin has been forgiven; or at least, Evalin doesn’t seem too mad anymore. Aelin tells her that Rowan arrived just fine, settled in fine. Like she’s checked on him since then.

She also makes sure to keep some other things to herself. Like how she knows her mother set up a large suite for him, but she gave him the smallest room on purpose. Or that even though she’s determined to hate his guts, Rowan Whitethorn is unfairly hot. 

Hot as hell, and also off-limits as hell. After all, he’s here to recover from his girlfriend dying in a car accident. Hitting on him is… probably the opposite of what he needs.

Even if he’s far too attractive for his own good.

Eleanor pulls the chicken from the boiling water and adds the pasta, breaking the noodles in half before she drops them in. Aelin is busy grating cheese now, while her mother sautees the veggies.

Someone comes inside, opening up the creaky screen door and stepping into the entryway. Aelin peeks out of the kitchen to see her uncles, Orlon and Weylan.

“Something smells good.” Orlon laughs, already heading for the kitchen. Aelin meets him halfway, grinning, throwing herself into her great-uncle’s arms.

“You’re home!”

Orlon laughs at that, planting a kiss on Aelin’s golden head. Weylan comes up beside them, giving her a pat on the shoulder. “We’ve barely been gone a week.”

“Well, you missed my coming home party. Everyone was there.” Aelin pouts playfully. 

Orlon just keeps smiling, shuffling into the kitchen to snatch a piece of boiled chicken, much to Eleanor’s dismay. She’s busy straining the pasta, getting ready to assemble the casserole and put it in the oven. She slaps Weylan’s hand away before he can take a piece, too.

“Uncle, did Mom tell you that she’s letting a strange man stay in our house?” Aelin asks, grinning fiendishly.

“Aelin,” Evalin sighs, “He’s not a strange man, he’s a family friend.”

“She did tell me.” Orlon chuckles. “Poor sucker.” He uses Eleanor’s distraction to take another piece of chicken, making Aelin’s aunt nearly squawk.

They all fall into conversation easily, the whole family crowding the large kitchen. When Aedion gets back from town, he’s just as excited to see his uncles.

Aelin hadn’t realized how much she missed this; the easy-going personality of Orlon mixed with Weylan’s snark, the laughter of her aunt and uncle, the feeling of togetherness. This, right here, is her family. Her people.

Rhoe pulls a few beers from the fridge, tossing one to Aedion and Gavriel. At Aelin’s protests, he gives her one too.

“I’m twenty-one, Dad. I can drink now.”

“Legally, at least.” Aedion grins. Aelin elbows him sharply, and her cousin doubles over, coughing.

All of the commotion draws Fleetfoot into the kitchen, and nobody can resist her cute begging face. Before Eleanor can get the casserole fixed up properly, the dog has already eaten what seems half the chicken, snuck to her by nearly every person in the room.

Aelin finishes her beer with a contented sigh and tosses the can, heading to set the table at her mother’s insistance. Despite the fact that she’s twenty-one and Aedion is twenty-six, they’re still the youngest members in the house, meaning all the mundane chores get thrown on them. 

When the plates and cups and silverware are set, Evalin hands her daughter the cloth napkins. Aelin looks up at her, confused.

“Why are we being all fancy? It’s just us.” She asks.

“Have you already forgotten the guest sleeping upstairs?” Evalin sighs, clearly exasperated. “I want to give him a good impression.”

Aelin rolls her eyes, but sets out the fancy napkins anyway. By her standards, Rowan Whitethorn deserves absolutely none of this fuss. Really, she should have just gone out and gotten them all Whataburger for dinner. 

But since she doesn’t have a death wish, Aelin doesn’t talk back to her mother. The napkins get set, the casserole comes out of the oven, piping hot and ready to eat.

“Aedion, go wash up.” Eleanor tells her son. “Aelin, how about you go and get our guest? I’m sure he’s starving by now.”

Aelin trudges up the large staircase, muttering obscenities under her breath.

“What was that?” Her aunt calls back.

“Nothing!” She answers. Screw the stupid mother sense that allows her to hear back-talk from nearly a room away.

Upstairs, Aelin hurries to Rowan’s room, on the furthest side of the house from her own bedroom. She wasn’t exactly lying about all the rooms being taken, but maybe she wasn’t completely truthful, either.

All of her friends stayed for a few days after the party, not ready to head home just yet. They’d spent the days in one room or the other, often accompanied by multiple bottles of wine, and just talked. She felt as though she hadn’t seen her friends in ages, with school just being so busy. 

Now, seeing as everyone is finally gone, only a few rooms on the upper floor are taken, truly. Hers, Aedion’s, one for her great-uncles, and one for her aunt and uncle. Her parents’ bedroom is downstairs, leaving several rooms vacant that Rowan could have taken. 

However, Aelin didn’t want him anywhere near her, which meant the furthest, smallest bedroom possible. She walks to it quickly, knocking impatiently on the door. 

“I’m coming.” A muffled voice on the other side of the door says. Aelin tuts loudly and taps her foot, crossing her arms. 

“It’s time for dinner.” Aelin calls.

The door opens, and Aelin hates how she has to look up at the bastard. His silvery hair is mussed, likely from sleeping on it. However, the bags under his eyes suggest otherwise.

“Are you coming?” She snaps. Rowan doesn’t say anything, just steps outside, running a hand through his hair in a failed attempt to tame it. Aelin turns away, feeling warm. He has absolutely no right to be so attractive, and it feels strangely intimate, walking in on him just waking up.

“It’s chicken spaghetti casserole. And the rest of my family is home, so try not to say anything too stupid. In fact, maybe just speak as little as possible.” Aelin leads him downstairs, heading for the dining room.

The less she looks at him, the better.

~~~~

As exhausted as he was, Rowan hadn’t slept a wink. A fact that pains him more and more with each step downstairs. His head feels fuzzy. And hot. Why is it still so fucking hot? How do these people handle it? 

“Rowan!” He looks up to see Evalin Galathynius, arms wide open, pulling him into a sudden hug. Rowan tenses up, eyes widening. Over her shoulder, Rowan has a clear view of Aelin snickering at his misfortune.

“Please, come sit.” Another woman, one who looks almost exactly like Evalin, gestures to the large wooden table. Rowan takes a seat awkwardly, trying to force a smile to his face. He fails miserably.

“This is my sister, Eleanor.” Evalin smiles. “And her husband, Gavriel.” She introduces the rest of the people, and all Rowan wants is to go back upstairs and sleep.

The Galathynius family is a sight, that’s for sure. He always thought that Aelin and Aedion looked similar, but looking at Evalin and her sister… they’re practically twins.

At least the food is good. Probably incredibly unhealthy, being mostly pasta and cheese and breadcrumbs, but good. And the other people make up all the conversation, so at least he doesn’t have to speak too much. 

If only he didn’t have to speak at all. The dog- what was its name- nudges his legs, and he can hear it panting beneath the table, begging for scraps. He tries his best to push it away discreetly.

“So, Rowan.” Gavriel tries to make friendly conversation, pulling Rowan away from staring at his nearly empty plate. “What’s New York like at this time of the year?”

“Fine.” Rowan doesn’t offer any more information, hoping to keep himself closed off. “And it doesn’t feel like the fires of hell.” He mutters under his breath.

Rhoe Galathynius bursts out laughing. “Ain’t that the truth! Hell, it’s barely June! Only gonna get hotter from here, son.”

Yay.

“I’ll take your plate, Rowan.” Looking up, he sees Aelin giving him a simpering smile, somehow paired with a death glare. He still hasn’t figured out why she hates him so much.

He passes her the dirty plate and silverware, and Aelin moves to offer the same to her uncles. She takes them through to the kitchen, the dog crawling out from under the table to follow her.

“Thank you for making dinner, Mrs. Galathynius.” Rowan says to the woman sitting across from him. She beams.

“Of course, sweetheart. And you can call me Evalin.”

“Anybody want ice cream?” Aelin yells into the dining room. “We got some Blue Bell left!”

Everyone calls back for ice cream, though Rowan is silent. Sure, something cold sounds nice, but he’s already full from dinner. Not that he’s had much appetite lately.

When Aelin returns, the dog yet again on her heels, she’s balancing several bowls of ice cream in both hands, and she places them expertly before her family, a real, genuine smile on her face.

“I hope y’all like it. There’s none left now.” She laughs. Getting a scoop of vanilla on her spoon, she lets the dog lick it off with a smile.

“You don’t want any, Rowan?” Evalin asks sweetly. 

“No thanks.” He responds. “I’m already full. And… I’ve had a long day, I think I’m going to bed, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course not. Get some sleep.” She smiles.

“You haven’t lived until you’ve tried Blue Bell ice cream, man.” Aedion laughs from his seat. “This is the good shit. Sure you don’t wantney?”

Struggling to understand the thick accent, Rowan shakes his head quickly, offering another apology. He practically sprints upstairs, Aelin’s hysterical laugh ringing in his ears.

Despite it being nearly seven o’clock, the sun is still bright and hot, gleaming through the windows onto his bed. 

Rowan flops down onto the comforter, wincing as he lands onto the patch of burning sunlight. Rolling over, he reaches for his phone of the nightstand.

Several missed texts and calls from friends and family meet him. Enda and Sellene’s are most prominent, wanting to make sure he’s arrived safely. There’s one or two alerts from his parents, just confirming his thoughts that they’ve shipped him down here to get him out of their hair, not because they’re worried for him, and then several from his friends, Fenrys and Lorcan.

In fact, right as he unlocks his phone, he gets another call from Fenrys. With a sigh, he answers it.

“Oh shit! He’s alive!” Fenrys chuckles, and Rowan can practically hear the troublemaking grin.

“Yeah, whatever. What do you want?” 

“I’m checking in, man.” Fenrys says. “How’s the lone star state?”

“I’m literally sleeping on the set of Gone with the Wind, so…” 

His friend laughs at that. “Well, at least you get to to sit around and drink beer and see hot women all day.”

Something in Rowan’s heart tugs violently, and he brushes it off with a laugh that sounds forced, even to his own ears.

“No, it’s too fucking hot to go outside. It was seriously almost 100 degrees this afternoon, and it’s only going to get hotter as summer goes on. I’m not going to survive the heat.”

“Well, man, you’re in luck.” Fenrys says. “Because if you’re stuck inside all day, at least you’ll have friends.”

“The only people my age in this awful town hate me.” Rowan snaps. “What are you planning, Fen?”

“How about Lorcan tells you.” His friend nearly cackles. Rowan hears the sound of the phone being passed over.

“Hey, Ro.” Lorcan sighs. “I can’t believe I let Fen talk me into this. Even Connall managed to resist him.”

“What’s going on.” Rowan asks, suspicious.

“I am currently holding two plane tickets to Houston, Texas!” Fenrys cheers. “We’re coming down to cheer you up!”

“What the hell.” Rowan groans. “Did either of you think this through at all? Where are you even staying?”

“We’ll figure that out tomorrow.” Fenrys calls, Lorcan having put the phone on speaker.

Of course. Fenrys’s family is filthy rich, so he clearly has the idea to just find a hotel nearby and crash, not caring about expenses. Although Rowan is touched his friends care enough to come all the way down to see him, he can already tell this is going to go badly. Very badly.

“All the nearby hotels are shitty.” Rowan tells him. “So just warning you. Everything in this stupid state is dusty and hot and ugly.”

Lorcan says something, but is interrupted by a loud knock on Rowan’s door. 

“Hang on; I’ll call you back.” Fenrys protests, but Rowan doesn’t listen, just hanging up the call. 

He walks over to the door, trying to reign in his groan. Why can’t he just be left alone?

It’s Aelin at the door, of course. It seems she’s taken it upon herself to personally torment him.

“I’m just letting you know, we have church in the morning. We leave at nine o’clock. If you need some nicer clothes, just take some of Aedion’s. You know, since this whole state is dusty and hot and ugly.”

Rowan groans at her words. Of course she heard him. Before he can say anything more, Aelin shuts the door, hard.

He’s been here for less than twenty-four hours, and yet he’s already messed something up.

Typical.

~~~~

a/n: so, in Rowan’s POV, I made sure to add a bunch of words and vocab not included in Aelin’s. Why? Because a Southern accent is something else, man. Of course Rowan’s going to notice it more, not being from the south, while Aelin has been listening and speaking like that her whole life. Also, the ‘wantney’ wasn’t a typo. Saying ‘want any’ out loud with my own southern voice smushed the words together, so I decided to do that here. 

Comment to be added/removed from the tag list!

@http-itsrebecca​

@rowaelinforeverworld​

[sweetlangdon]

When You Needed It Shouted: Part Two (Michael Langdon x Reader)

Notes: Here it is, part 2 of the angst fic! It’s the thrilling conclusion. (Of this fic, not the actual Roommates series.)

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: Blood, violence. Nothing too graphic beyond anything you’d see on the show. Peril. Angst. 

Part One

You don’t know how long the darkness has stolen you away.

It could be minutes, hours, days—you don’t know what’s worse, that you’re not sure what day it is or that you barely remember what the hell happened last time you were conscious. There’s a steady drip, drip, drip somewhere, echoing, pounding into your skull with a force that shouldn’t be painful, but it is. You try to remember those last moments. They’re filled with anger and fear and the taste of salt on your lips, with words that sting like a raw, open wound.

The darkness still has you, your mind in a haze, blinded by a scrap of fabric hastily tied around your head. You think that even if you could see, the first statement would still be true. Whoever’s abducted you—it takes a few minutes to work through this and realize it’s actually a thing that’s happened—sure as fuck isn’t doing it for charitable purposes or the greater good. It takes a special kind of asshole to kidnap someone in the parking lot of their own apartment building.

At least you’re still breathing. And you’re sitting upright, you realize, as you begin to claw through the fog that’s engulfed your brain. You were fucking drugged. There’s something binding your wrists—not rope, but something that digs into your skin and makes your fingers slightly numb. Plastic, you think. Maybe zip ties?

Shit.

The floor is freezing under your bare toes, and suddenly you’re wondering why this person has taken your shoes. Or maybe you lost them in whatever scuffle happened in the parking lot? You don’t know. You don’t know anything except the rising panic in your chest and a musty, damp basement odor wafting into your senses. That does not bode well at all for you if you’re in some serial killer’s weird ass murder den. Not at all. You almost want to laugh and you’re not exactly sure why, maybe it’s all the uncomfortable fluttering in your ribcage and the fact that you can’t breathe deep.

“Good, you’re awake.”

It surprises you that the voice belongs to a woman. You watch those true crime documentaries when you’re bored, and you’ve always thought that if any of that horrid shit happened to you, the killer would be a man. So this is…it’s odd. Not that anything about this is normal, but you were expecting the aggression from someone else. The woman’s tone is impatient, grating, and loud. As if you’re the one in this situation who’s done something wrong.

She isn’t gentle when she rips the blindfold off your head. The room is blurry, spinning, until you blink a few times. There’s a weak florescent light overhead that struggles to keep itself on, a low whining hum that conspires with the dripping water to crack your skull in half. You are, in fact, in a basement, but like everything else so far, it’s not the basement you expect. More the commercial type—a community center? Peeling concrete walls and no windows and a claustrophobic ceiling. Boxes coated with dust and spider webs. Stacks of chairs. Folding tables made out of cheap plastic.

You squint against the sudden assault of overhead lights. As your eyes finally adjust, you see the semicircle of people who’ve cornered you. Who’ve fucking kidnapped you. And they’re dressed in black, draped in it, some of them with hoods casting shadows across their faces. Cloaks? Robes? You aren’t sure. But the woman standing in front of you with resting bitch face is wearing bright, bright red. A flash of silver catches your attention, and that’s when you notice the massive pentagram on her chest.

“Fuck,” you mutter aloud. Your voice is scratchy, your throat parched.

Somehow, this seems so much worse than anything you could’ve imagined. What is this cultist bullshit?

The woman lowers to a crouch in front of you, narrows her eyes and looks deep into yours. She pats your cheek like you’re a fucking child and you want to spit in her goddamn face but you can’t get your brain to follow commands fast enough. You push your wrists against the zip ties holding them behind your back.

“Time to wake up, princess,” she says in this condescending tone with a slow, smug grin. Goddamn, you really want to punch her. You want to bust her nose into pieces. It kills you inside that you can’t remember that fucking YouTube video about breaking free from zip ties. Damn it, damn it, damn it…

“You were out longer than we expected—got a little overenthusiastic with the chloroform,” she tells you. “We’ve already had to delay the Mass for an hour, so we’d like to get this show on the road. You’re our main event, after all. They’re getting restless upstairs with all the waiting.”

You glare at her. “Sorry to be a big fucking inconvenience,” you snap. And then you go for it.

Without a way to get your hands free, you throw your entire body weight forward, your shoulder colliding with her chest, your head knocking into her chin. It throws both of you off balance, and even though it works for a moment, there’s too many of them. You’re pulled off her, roughly, and wrestled to the ground as you’re attempting to get in a kick or two. You don’t know if they land, but you don’t stop thrashing, flailing with your bare feet. Unfortunately for you, they hit back. Those fuckers aim straight for your face; you feel knuckles connect with your cheek, pain lashing across your lower lip. Sparks fly across your vision when someone’s fist slams into your stomach and knocks the breath out of your lungs.

“All right, that’s enough,” the woman says, like she’s showing mercy.

The figures cloaked in black shove you back against the support beam. Pain ripples up your spine and you sputter, coughing. Blood trickles from your bottom lip. You can taste it on your tongue as it coats your teeth, and you spit it back onto the floor by the woman’s shoes. You’re only a little smug once she recoils.

“A little cooperation goes a long way.”

“Yeah?” you counter, breathless. Every time you inhale, there’s an uncomfortable flare of pain in your ribs. “Who the fuck are you? I don’t need to do shit.”

“More important than you’ll ever be,” she replies. You scoff. “You’re a nobody. A distraction. And it’s my job to make sure that before this night is over, you’re forgotten. Hate to break it to you, princess, but you’re not part of this story. We can’t have you getting in the way of prophecy.”

It takes a minute for your addled brain to understand that this is about Michael. And these people are actual fucking Satanists.

“You stay away from him.”

She laughs at you. “I don’t take orders from you, sweetheart.” You’re not normally a violent person, but you’re positive that in this particular situation, you’d be justified if things got ugly. If only your damned hands weren’t bound. “Don’t pretend like you didn’t know this was coming. Did you really think that little arrangement of yours was going to last? You saw the omens. You were warned. You could’ve saved yourself the trouble…” She sighs, a little dramatically. “But you gave us no other choice. We had to intervene on behalf of Satan himself.”

You spit more blood at her shoes. “Fuck off, lady,” you rasp. “He doesn’t need you messing up his life. He’s been through enough.”

She laughs, nearly doubled over, as if you’ve told some hilarious joke. “No, see…that’s where you’re wrong,” she answers. “You thought you could change him? You thought he’d chose you? He’s lost his way, but he’ll find it again. There’s no changing something that’s been predestined before you were ever a thought. He’s not yours.”

“You’re right, he’s not,” you say. “He doesn’t belong to anyone but himself.”

Her eyes narrow again. “I get it—oh, that’s cute.” She grins, and you want to kick her teeth in. “That’s adorable. You love him, don’t you?” Your hands curl into tight fists and push against the zip ties, push until your fingers are numb. “I almost feel sorry for you, princess.”

There’s a sharp sound, and you see one of her cloaked followers brandish a roll of duct tape.

“Want us to shut her up?” a gruff voice asks.

“No,” the woman in red says slowly. “I want him to hear her.”  

 ***

It doesn’t occur to you right away that these people are going to kill you. You think it should’ve been obvious, from everything you’ve heard about Satanists. From the way they’ve roughed you up, from the woman’s scathing words and indifference toward you. But you’re in denial as they lead you out of the damp basement and up a few flights of stairs, a grim, silent procession in black. You’re still trying to work your hands out of those zip ties, your thoughts running too fast to even consider the fact that you’re here to be fucking murdered. There’s hands on your shoulders, shoving your back as your knees wobble and you trip over your own feet. You’re sweating through your clothes and freezing at the same time, panic working your labored breath into shuddering gasps. Each inhale hurts more than the last.

The woman in red disappears through a doorway with a few of the figures in black. You still aren’t sure where you are—it looks a little like a church, from your few experiences with religious services. Not exactly the stained glass and Gothic architecture you were expecting, but rather a slightly rundown rec center posing as a house of worship for Satanists. Of all the places you thought you could get fucking murdered in this city, you never considered this. But…you suppose it makes sense. Your life has been that way for the past year or so, this wild, unbelievable ride that’s now biting you directly in the ass as it comes to a screeching halt.

You hate that woman for planting a seed of doubt in you. You hate that you think she could be right. Were you a dumbass, catching feelings for the goddamn Antichrist? Was it totally naïve of you to trust a perfect stranger?

You wonder what’s going to happen to Michael once they’ve sacrificed you. That thought comes first, before how your family and friends and coworkers will react, or if you’ll be a missing person’s case or an unsolved homicide. You think, what are these fuckers going to do him? And how will the world look, after?

The hands gripping your arms—they’re leaving bruises; you can feel it, but you know it won’t matter—tug at you, none of them gentle. It takes a moment for you to return to your body and realize they’re ripping your clothes off. They land in a shredded heap around you, no regard at all for your dignity. As if ritual sacrifice isn’t bad enough, you’re about to be paraded around in nothing but your bra and panties.

The tears start, a burning at the back of your throat, a tightness behind your eyes, the moment you’re pushed forward. You can’t stop them. At this point you don’t give a single fuck about how pathetic it makes you look. They shove you into a room that’s aggressively red, leading you on a death march. There’s pews crammed with people in black and red on either side of you, more faces masked by shadow. You can feel their eyes on you as they chant and sing, the room a dizzying spectacle of candles and pentagrams and idols to the Devil himself. You’ve never felt so small and confused and hated in your life.

You’re sobbing by the time you reach the altar. They throw you at the feet of the woman in red, who knots her fingers into your hair and forces you to stay on your knees. She doesn’t let go, and you cry out when pain prickles at your scalp. All of the eyes watching you hang onto her every word. She’s loud and abrasive and theatrical, and you don’t hear a damn thing she’s saying because you’re crying so hard your ribs might finally crack in half. At least the tears blurring your vision keep you from the congregation in the pews. You catch bits of her sermon, her vile tirade against you and whatever crimes you’ve committed in the eyes of Satan and his batshit followers. They hate you for taking Michael away, for leading him down a path he’s not meant to follow. Somehow, they think you’re a terrible person for giving shelter and food and comfort to a stranger. The opposite of what you’ve always been told.

Through the onslaught of tears, you catch the flash of cold steel in the light of the candles. One of the others, wearing a scarlet cloak, hands the woman in red a knife. You know you’re fucked. And you aren’t sure if it’s how unstable you are right now, but that knife looks bigger, angrier than any knife in your kitchen drawer.

“Please,” you beg, your voice shattering. “Please, don’t do this.”

They ignore you. All of your pathetic sniffling and groveling goes unanswered. They don’t give a shit about you, and you know it. The woman in red yanks on your hair again, wrenching your head back so your neck is exposed. Your breath catches. Your eyelids flutter closed and you keep them shut tightly as you feel the first bite of the knife’s edge resting on your throat.

A hush falls over the room. You don’t realize something’s happened until you crack one eye open and find most of the candles have sputtered out, the church left in semidarkness. The worshippers in the pews have all gone quiet, lowered onto their knees in reverence, their heads bowed. It’s then that you find him: Michael, his clothes and hair a little disheveled, standing in the middle of the center aisle.

The woman lifts the knife off your neck. “Michael Langdon,” she announces, her voice ricocheting off the blood red walls. “What an honor it is, a privilege to be in your presence. We’ve been expecting you.” You blink away the tears clinging to your eyelashes to watch Michael walk toward you. You can’t read his face, and that makes a knot twist your insides. “We’re here to serve you and the will of your father. This,” she tugs on your hair and you yelp, “is his order. By spilling her blood, we’ll set you on the right path again. But now that you’re here among us, I’ll give you the honor of pledging your loyalty, so that we all may bear witness.”

Michael joins you and the woman in red on the altar. You feel sick as his distant gaze travels from you to the crowd still on their knees, still silent. When he takes the knife from the woman holding you hostage, he doesn’t look at you. His cold, icy blue eyes are settled on her. You don’t know if that’s worse or better.

“Michael,” you sob, tears and snot dripping down your face. “Please…”

Damn your foolish, stubborn heart.

You hold your breath, waiting for the betrayal. Michael tightens his grip around the handle of the knife, his knuckles white. The woman in red drags your head back again, and the last thing you see is her smug ass grin looming over you.

And then the knife plunges straight into her throat.

The spray of crimson is warm when it hits you in the face and rains down on your hair. It splatters across Michael’s sharp cheekbones and disappears into the black of his clothes. The woman doesn’t make much of a sound, except for the wheezing and choking as she drowns in the blood spilling from her torn neck. You’ve never seen so much blood in your life. She lets go of you, finally, while she collapses onto the altar, and you fall forward onto your stomach gasping for air.

The room erupts into panic after that. The worshippers are screaming, clambering over each other for the exits, all traces of reverence gone in a spray of blood. Not the blood any of them had wanted. The cloaked figures on the altar don’t dare to come near you, but they don’t escape quickly enough. Michael reaches out a bloody hand toward them and the next thing you know, they’re shrieking, fire catching their robes and turning them into piles of ash. It’s chaos, the smell of blood and singed flesh roiling your stomach. Breathing heavily, Michael moves to the edge of the altar to watch the last of the worshippers—the ones who’ve narrowly avoided being incinerated—sprinting out the doors.

You close your eyes for a moment and breathe.

There’s a light tug on your wrists. You flinch because you can’t help it, but you hear the snap of plastic and immediately, it releases the pressure in your hands. You work the feeling back into your fingers as someone lifts you off the bloodstained floor of the altar and sit back on your knees. Michael’s kneeling in front of you. It’s like he can’t bring himself to look you in the eye, doesn’t want to touch you because maybe he felt you recoil. He’s quiet as he works the buttons loose on his shirt, drapes it over your shoulders, and gently guides your arms through. His lithe fingers shake when he buttons it again and once he’s done, his hands don’t leave you.

Michael rests his forehead against yours and you lean into him, close enough that you hear the hitch in his breath, close enough that you feel the worry in his pulse. He holds your face in one of his bloodied hands. You don’t mind, not at all. You should be afraid, but you’re not—you’re not because you know that if he’s willing to fucking kill to protect you, you’re safe with him. And yet you’re crying as you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him even closer, clinging to him as if he’s the only thing keeping you together.

Despite the violence he’s wrought in the last five minutes, he’s nothing but gentle with you. Michael is careful as he picks you up off the altar into his arms. You’re still holding on for dear life, and this time when he presses a feather light kiss to the top of your head, you know it’s not just a thing you’re imagining. In the weak light of the remaining candles, you see the unshed tears in his eyes.

He kisses your forehead. “Let’s go home.”

***

The cat yells at you once you’re back in the apartment, winding around Michael’s legs, furious about the trouble the two of you have gotten into. Michael navigates around him with expert precision, down the hall the bathroom. You hear the pissed off meowing and the scratching of claws against the door even after it’s closed.

Michael flicks on the light with an elbow and you only partially let go of him when he settles you onto the bathroom counter. And then he’s gone, leaving a draft where the warmth of him had seeped into you. You watch him rifle through the drawers and cabinets with a restless energy until he stops, dragging a trembling hand through his tousled curls.

“I should—I should go.”

Your heart crashes against your ribs. “Where?” you ask. “Why? Michael…your home is here, with me and our weirdo cat. You don’t have to go anywhere.”

He shakes his head and a tear slides down his cheek. “You didn’t deserve this,” he says. “You deserve better than me.”

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s true, though, isn’t it?” His voice is wavering. “They wanted to kill you…they almost did. None of that would’ve happened if I wasn’t here. And if I hadn’t found you,” he swipes a palm over his face to dispatch some of the tears, “if I’d been too late—I couldn’t…I don’t fucking know what I’d do. I don’t want to be responsible for getting you killed.”

“But I’m still here,” you remind him. “That’s because of you. We’re both here right now because of you. You made a choice.”

“You’ll be safer if I leave,” he insists.

“Maybe,” you say, your voice small and quiet. “But I don’t want you to go, Michael. Please don’t.”

His lower lip trembles. “I can’t stop him. I don’t know how—”

“You already did.”

“Every person I’ve ever loved has been taken away from me,” Michael tells you, and you believe him. You know the hurt in his voice is real. “I can’t risk that…I won’t let it happen again.”

It takes a moment for you to understand the weight of what he’s saying. Right here, in your tiny bathroom in your tiny apartment, the two of you covered in someone else’s blood, tears spilling down your faces. And yet, with the way your life has been since Michael walked into it, it makes complete sense for it to happen this way.

“You…love me.”

“You thought I didn’t?”

“No…no, it’s just nice to hear you say it. To hear it out loud and everything.” You hold out your hand, beckoning him closer to you, and hope that he takes it. You hope that you’re enough to make him stay. “Michael,” you whisper, a fresh wave of tears breaking over your words, “I don’t want you to leave. Stay here with me. You’re already home.”

Once he’s finally closed the distance between you, he takes the hand you’re offering, lacing his fingers between yours. “I love you too fucking much to let you go.” Your fingers squeeze his. “Please don’t—”

He interrupts your plea and steals it away with a kiss. It’s sudden, desperate, but surprisingly gentle. Your fingers relax, the tension easing from you. It’s all the answer you need. You return it, one hand tangled in Michael’s hair, the other still entwined with his. He’s extraordinarily careful with you, his hand a light touch against your cheek, mindful of the bruises. You’ve had a few brief flirtations, awkward attempts at romance in the past. But this feels different. This is different. A choice. A promise.

When you break the kiss to catch your breath, Michael is hesitant to let you go again. He presses closer, his head nudging yours, and you think that maybe you’re content to never leave this spot, if it wasn’t for all the blood. And when he looks at you, there’s still tears in his eyes, but they’re bright, clear blue. A faint grin curves the side of his mouth. That’s the Michael Langdon you recognize.

The one you fell in love with.

The one who loves you.

***

@lastregasolitaria @mylippo @zeciex @lvngdvns @langdonsdemon @wvntersldr @sojournmichael @gabnelson98 @antichristlangdxn @keavysmithxoxo  @batgirlbride  @dead-witch-boy @boofy1998 @gentianea @cryptid-coalition  @kinlovecody @yuriohoe04 @electricurie @marvel-rpdr-and-ahs @gallxntdean @jcshadowkiss-blog @frozenhuntress67 @sebastianshoe @dixmond-taurus @bookobssesed99 @sassylangdon @queenie435 @holylangdon  @angsty-otters-blog @denaexr @mr-langdonn @micheallangdons @lostin-fern @crazedcatcuddler @michaelsapostle @monsucre @ritualmichael  @queencocoakimmie @bluelancesredswords @theharvestgirloffire @punkysouls @sevenwondr @prettykitten123 @zoebensvn @kylosbabe @sloppy-little-witch-bitch26 @readsalot73 @americanhorrorstudies  @tiny-ruby-seeds @confettucini @mega-combusken @kaetastic

[authoressofdarkness]

Beauty and the Beast (Chapter 1)

Starker Beauty and the Beast AU. Spider-Man is one of the few remaining heroes to contest the rule of Superior Iron Man. Or... he was, until he trades himself for the life of his aunt and uncle. Can he survive under the thumb of a dark Tony Stark? Dark. Mind the warnings.

Chapter one below the cut!

He fucked up. 

Peter knows he fucked up royally when he enters the apartment and is greeted by only a whirlwind of destruction and blood trail that starts from the main bedroom and trails down the hall and through the apartment, culminating in a puddle of blood in the middle of the living room carpet. 

He’s already shaking when he backs out of the apartment and bolts. 

For anyone else, running away would be the logical choice. He’s heard about scenes like this before. He knows what they mean and exactly who is to blame. He knows he should count himself lucky that he was at school, that there wasn’t someone waiting for him, outside the school or back at the apartment. But he isn’t just anyone. For anyone else, this wouldn’t be their fault. They might come home to the scene he just had and feel everything from horror to relief, but what they wouldn’t feel is responsible. 

And Peter is, undeniably, responsible. 

How could he not be? May is a nurse. Ben is a low level cop. And Peter just so happens to be Spider-Man, one of the few remaining vigilantes in the city, and one of the only heroes that dares contest the control of the man who used to be Iron Man. 

Even the Avengers have scattered, and most of them are rumored to not even be in state, if the country. Perhaps they’re not fleeing Stark, exactly, but they may as well be. They’ve left them all to his mercy in essentially the same way.

He doesn’t know how much Stark actually knows. But he does know the only reason Stark would have to have them arrested is if he’s made some kind of connection between them and his alter ego, and that couldn’t mean anything good. All he knows for sure is that it means he better get to where they are before it’s too late. 

So he doesn’t run away, despite the instincts that scream at him to, despite want his sanity might tell him. He heads straight for Stark Tower - the glowing beacon of light in the middle of the city that is a symbol of either terror or salvation depending on one’s allegiance but is unmissable all the same. If Stark took his aunt and uncle, that’s exactly where they’ll be. 

Perhaps he should be surprised at how easy it is to make it there, to waltz right up the tower and climb his way up the walls to Stark’s personal level. He should be, but he’s blinded by fear and fury and desperate purpose, and all he sees is the opportunity he needs, so he doesn’t question it. He scales the building, gets in through a seemingly forgotten open window in a room on the floor he needs, and stealthily makes his way to where he can pick up the sounds of a room with two familiar heartbeats down the hall. 

He doesn’t think about the best way to go about this, though he really should. If he stops for even a second, it might be too late. 

Instead he climbs the ceiling to get passed the guards, then drops down behind them, right in front of the doors. Faster than they can catch him, he throws them open and nearly runs inside, not hesitating even for a second.

He can see them. He can see them, and they’re hurt but they’re still alive and-

Of course he only makes it a few feet before he’s being swarmed by guards. All he wants to do is throw himself in front of Ben and May, between them and the beast pacing in front of them, but he doesn’t get the chance before they’re on him. 

He still semi-accomplishes his goal, but only because the guards drag him forward, between Ben and May and in front of the villain standing in front of them. Peter swallows, but holds his head high. 

“How cute,” is the first thing Tony Stark says to him. He cocks his head, looking darkly amused. “Rushing up here like you think you can do something for them. I gave you a gift by leaving you alone, boy. You shouldn’t be so foolish as to reject it.” 

Peter’s heart jumps into his throat, but he forces it down. He’s spent years working against this man. He won’t be so easily intimidated just because they’re face to face at last. 

“I don’t want any gifts from you,” Peter tells him. His voice doesn’t waver, which he’s proud of for a whole half a second before-

“Peter!” May sounds horrified. “What are you-“

Peter watches as Stark’s gaze snaps to her, and his heart nearly skips a beat when he opens his mouth again. But Stark only orders, “Quiet,” and her mouth snaps shut immediately, much to Peter’s mingled horror and relief. Then his eyes are back on Peter again. “Let the boy speak. Tell me, Peter. Why did you come?” 

Peter gulps again. The fear he’s worked so hard to push down is engulfing his heart again, but it’s not his own life he’s afraid to end here. “I couldn’t let you hurt them.”

“Oh?” Tony raises an eyebrow at him. “And you think you can stop me?” 

No, some rational part of Peter’s brain says. “Yes,” he says aloud. “I do. Because I know what you want. And it’s not them.” 

“Isn’t it, though?” Tony cocks his head. “At least one of them has been aiding a criminal, Peter. A vigilante by the name of Spider-Man. And that, darling boy, is a crime.” He steps closer to him. “All I want is justice.”

“No. What you want is Spider-Man. And you have him.” He’s feels like he’s going to be sick, but he pushes it down. “You got me. I’ll do whatever you want, but leave them alone.” 

The room is silent for a moment as they all process what he just admitted. He’s fairly certain May is crying behind him, and Ben… he can’t look at Ben, can’t look at either of them. Because it hurts to know they’ll both figure out how long he’s been lying to them, an FB the severity of those lies, and because Ben has been helping him, even if neither of them knew it was the other until just now. And if Stark figured that out…

Stark just stares at him for a long moment. Then he shakes his head and actually laughs, and Peter almost wishes the man had done anything else instead, because that laugh is dark and grates on his already frazzled nerves and is almost scarier than any other response. 

“Of course you will. You already have.” Stark stalks towards him, tilting his head up with one finger. Blue eyes burn into him, piercing clear down to his soul. “God, you are precious, aren’t you? It begs the question how you even made it this long.” He leans closer. “Did you really think you got in that easily on your own? Why do you think they’re still alive? I could have executed them ages ago. But I didn’t. I knew you’d come. And you didn’t even stop to put on that ridiculous excuse for a suit.” He cocks his head, eyes flicking away for just a moment to the bag still on his back. “Let me guess. It’s in there, isn’t it?”

Peter swallows thickly. He hadn’t even taken his backpack off before coming here. He’d completely forgotten about it until now. And of course the villain is right, about all of it. He’d been so caught up in getting here that he hadn’t even considered how easy it had been. 

Stark grins. The expression on his face says it all, he knows. “Oh, silly boy. You really are too naive for your own good. Luckily we had uncle over here covering your tracks, hm?” He steps away, turning from Peter to Ben, who was still being held by guards behind them. 

Peter tenses. As much as he hates Stark’s attention on him, he’ll take that any time over it being on his family. “Leave him alone.”

Stark simply raises an eyebrow at him, then stalks up to Ben, out of Peter’s line of sight, much to his growing panic. He hears May choke on a sob, and the sound is almost too much for him to bear. “No! Stop!”

“Mind your manners if you know what’s good for you,” Stark warns mildly from somewhere behind him. 

“No!” In desperation, he lashes out at the guards holding him and manages to catch them by surprise. A good knock to the head for the one and takes the knees out of the other, and he’s free.

For a whole second, anyway. 

“Don’t. Move.”

He freezes. The voice is quiet, but dangerous and deadly serious. There’s no mistaking who the order came from, and despite himself, the fear, the voice in the back of his head that tells him he should know better, he obeys. 

“Face me.” 

Slowly, he pivots toward him, raising his hands in a small gesture of surrender. 

In the half second it took him to escape, Tony Stark had become the Iron Man right in front of him. He hadn’t bothered with the helmet, but the rest of his body was covered with the gleaming silver armor. 

Including the hand outstretched toward him, ready to fire on a second’s notice. 

Peter’s eyes flicker from the gauntlet, to May and Ben, both of whom now had guns pressed to their sides. Then he looks back at Stark, who is watching him silently but intently, those piercing blue eyes seeming to pin him in place. 

“I didn’t want this to get messy,” Stark says at last. “That’s why I had you lured in like this instead of making it public. We have much to discuss, Spiderling. My patience with your antics is running thin, so maybe don’t push me anymore if you want everyone in this room to live.” 

If he had just said “if you want to live,” Peter wouldn’t have hesitated. He couldn’t care less if he lived or died. Not that he wanted to, but he’d resigned himself to the fact he’d likely die for the cause a long time ago. But with Ben and May in the equation…

He swallows hard. “Okay. No more. I won’t try anything else. Promise.” The words taste bitter, but he gets them out, and he means it. Maybe once they’re gone, but right now… no. Not until he’s sure they’re safe. 

The corner of Stark’s mouth turns up in a cruel half-smile. “Good. Get on your knees.” 

Peter does. He doesn’t even hesitate. He knows enough to know it’s a humiliation tactic, just a test to see if he’ll really listen. And with the only two people in the world he cares about at gunpoint in front of him, he does. He doesn’t know if there’s anything he’d truly resist right now. 

“Much better.” The gauntlet is still pointed at him, but Stark looks away for just a moment, jerking his chin at the guy holding May. Peter almost cries out, but bites his tongue against it when Stark says, “Get the woman out of here. She can go.” 

Relief is immediate and immense, but something else joins it. “What about Ben?” 

Stark turns back to him, not sparing May a second glance as they lead her out of the room. “Ben is still a criminal, and will be treated as such.”

Peter shakes his head. “I told you, I’m the one you want. It’s me. I’m here. Let him go.” 

“I don’t think so.”

“I turned myself in, technically,” Peter points out, growing increasingly desperate. It’s a losing battle, and he knows it. Stark won’t do anything he doesn’t want to do. But he has to try. “Doesn’t that count for something?”

“It counted for the life of your aunt. Consider that my gift to you. Or would you like to reject that one, too?” His eyes glitter dangerously. 

He gulps again. He has no doubt if he as much as insinuates that he does, Stark won’t hesitate to bring her back. “Please,” he tries instead. “I’ll beg, if that’s what you want. Just let him go.”

“As delicious as I’m sure that is… perhaps later.” Stark turns back to Ben. “But… I suppose he still has value. So I won’t kill him.” He steps away, nodding to Ben’s guards. “Lock him up. I’ll deal with him later.” 

Peter can only watch as they start to lead him out. “Please-“

“Enough. Not killing him is more kindness than I’d grant anyone else.” Stark turns back to him, and the cold, calculating look in his eyes is enough to make Peter’s stomach flip. “Not that it’s out of kindness at all, nor will it probably seem like one soon.”

Peter closes his eyes, trying to quench the growing panic before it can take him over. “What are you going to do to him?”

He can almost hear the feral grin in Stark’s voice when he speaks again. “Oh, nothing.” A pause, and then he hears the words for the first time that he quickly realizes will reign the rest of his life for the foreseeable future. “If you behave.”

[365daysofsasuhina]

[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day Three Hundred Sixty-Four: What You See ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata ] [ SasuHina, vulgarity, death, smoking ] [ Verse: Oil and Blood ] [ AO3 Link ]

Appearances can be deceiving.

For instance...Hinata had a teacher back in middle school who, for all intents and purposes, seemed a nice enough man. An active part of the community, well-liked by his students, and a staple part of the school in which he taught. He was lenient with those who needed it, and tough on those who he knew could do better.

But during her last year, when she was no longer in his class, a rather startling discovery was made.

On the run from another province, he was accused of murdering several middle school girls at his previous school. But with the help of underground cosmetic mods, he had his face changed enough to escape notice, starting a new life on the other side of the country where he could once again begin stalking students.

Thankfully he never had the chance - he was caught when a substitute for another teacher managed to recognize him despite the mods. He was arrested, and later imprisoned for his crimes.

From then on, Hinata knew better than to trust what face people put forward. What you see isn’t always true.

Which is what makes her newest...friend? so intriguing.

Since stumbling upon the half-dead man in an alleyway, Hinata has been unable to escape one Uchiha Sasuke: a member of the infamous yakuza currently overseen by his father. Having been beaten and stripped of his (rather expensive) mods, it was Hinata who, on an insomnia walk, hefted him from the refuse and took him to a doctor she knew.

And that was only the beginning of a bond that saw her kidnapped, nearly involved in a gunfight, and then marked as a target by the Uchiha group’s biggest rivals: the Senju.

Since then, it’s been Sasuke’s self-imposed mission to keep the woman safe as repayment for her kindness, and also for his failing to protect her when he first attempted to fulfill his debt to her.

Which means that outside work and her time spent at home...Hinata has been stuck with a rather interesting bodyguard.

Sasuke doesn’t hide what he is. Be it his mods, his tattoos, his smoking or his sometimes coarse language, he doesn’t shy from his title of gangster. He knows that what his family does is unlawful. Dangerous and harmful, even. But he does have at least one code of conduct: repay his debts.

Having someone like him in the presence of someone like Hinata makes a very strange pair indeed.

You see, Hinata’s father runs the largest Japan-based medical mod company. She was once heiress...before daring to call out his hypocrisy. She now lives in a tiny apartment in a rather...questionable part of town. Which is how she found Sasuke. And she works for a mod insurance claim company. Which, admittedly, she hates. But she does do her part of under-the-table dealing to help those who truly need it find underground care.

Hence her knowing the good doctor.

But it goes without saying that the pair of them going, well...anywhere together tends to draw some very confused gazes. After all, most wonder what on earth such a sweet looking young woman could ever be doing running around with someone like him.

Sure, Hinata hasn’t ever hurt anyone - in fact she herself has been the victim of violence more than once. But she does technically break the law rather often, given her redirection of insurance claims to illegal operations that go beneath the government radar. Sure, she does so for morally-just reasons...but it’s still illegal.

She wonders what people would think if they knew: that such a sweet, trustworthy, likeable face has been lying to her employer and her government for years now, costing them mountains of money with every customer or patient she reroutes into the less-than-legal channels.

Sure, it’s nothing compared to Sasuke’s repsheet, but...still, worse than most would assume just looking at her.

And the same, she feels, goes for Sasuke.

During their time together, she’s observed him as carefully as she can, not wanting to be caught snooping. It’s something she’s always been rather good at. Her eyes are pale enough that most people don’t notice them slid to their corners to watch them. Sasuke, so often, just seems so...normal. He drinks coffee with heavy cream (but no sugar - he doesn’t like bitter, but nor can he stand sweet). He’s taken to feeding the stray cats around her apartment building. She saw him completely interrupt traffic to help an elderly neighbor of hers cross to the proper street from her window on his way to see her once.

Sure, he might do bad things...but he isn’t a bad person.

After all, he’s doing what he’s doing for her out of a sense of honor. He could just flip her the bird and leave her to defend herself from the Senju, helpless. Maybe it’s wholly for himself, for upholding his code of ethics...but it doesn’t feel that shallow.

He doesn’t just stand around looking tough. He talks to her, argues with her, and even jokes with her...though his humor is bone dry. There’s been many a moment when she’s forgotten why he’s around. They bicker and banter like...friends.

...she’s almost forgotten what it’s like to have friends. High school was rather lonely, and her shuffle right into a dead-end job and a micro apartment didn’t really lend itself to making them. Sure, she and the doctor get on fairly well, but...they’ve only ever seen one another for business. Technically that’s the reason Sasuke’s around, but...it just feels...different.

...so maybe she’s not as annoyed by his playing knight as she was when it all first started.

“Now what are you doing?”

“Hm?”

Chin in a hand, Sasuke juts it slightly toward her. “You’ve been staring at your HUD for like fifteen minutes. I can’t see it, but I can tell.”

At his accusation, Hinata goes a light pink. “...uh…”

“Watching porn in public?”

“W-w-what?! No!” Her voice jumps several octaves, drawing the glances of other patrons. They’re currently seated in an outdoor section at the front of a cafe having coffee. Sasuke insisted he needed to refuel, and she never minds a cup herself.

He gives a cheeky, lazy grin, posture still lax. “Then what are you doing?”

“I’m...playing a game.”

“Oh? A game that involves staring at your HUD?”

“It’s...not the most interactive, sure. It’s more of a daily click sort of...t-thing.”

“Ah, gotcha. So you’re not really a gamer girl.”

At that, her lips purse in a pout. “Hey, I play games at home. This is just more...maintenance.”

“Sounds exciting.”

“It’s...cute. You collect cats.”

Immediately, something lightens in his expression, and his posture becomes a bit more attentive. “...oh yeah?”

She doesn’t miss all that, but suppresses a smile, not wanting to drive him off the subject. “Mhm. It’s an older game, Neko Atsume. People used to play it on their phones.”

Sasuke hums in acknowledgement...and something tells her he’s already on his HUD looking it up. She knows already how fond he is of cats. See the above mentioned strays he’s pseudo-adopted. “Sounds...boring, but cats are all right, I guess.”

“Like I said, it’s mostly a daily click sort of thing. You check to see what cats are around, w-what they’ve left you, if they took treats…”

His eyes flicker, and though she can’t see his HUD herself, she already knows what he’s looking at. “...huh.”

“Want to play?”

“I might. If I get bored enough.”

She just gently rolls her eyes.

...a week later, he approaches her with a scowl, and she actually braces herself for some kind of argument.

“What have you done?”

“I...w-what?”

“That stupid...cat game!”

She blinks.

“The whole damn syndicate is playing it now! I can’t stop checking it! We almost missed a raid because the wrong people got distracted!”

Before Hinata can stop it, a snort escapes her, both hands coming to cover her nose and mouth. Eyes go wide. “I...I’m sorry…?”

“I can’t believe this…”

“Sasuke-san, I...I didn’t mean to -?”

“I know,” he snaps, cutting her off...which she’s gotten used to. “...don’t introduce me to any more games. Got it?”

“O...okay.”

“Wasting all my goddamn time,” he mutters, lighting a cigarette and taking a frustrated drag. He gives her a halfhearted glare when she can no longer suppress her giggles. “If the Uchiha Yakuza falls it’s all gonna be your fault, I hope you know that. You and your damn cats.”

“I’m sorryyy!”

“No you’re not!”

“Yes I am!”

“Then why’re you laughing?”

She can’t reply, too caught up in her amusement.

To anyone looking on, they’d see a scowling, tattooed, heavily-modded man they’d immediately peg as a bad guy.

But Hinata knows better.

                                                             .oOo.

     More of the cyberpunk AU! Not really anything plot-drive this time: more introspection about appearance, which DOES play a fairly big role in both their characters, and their world at large. With the ability to modify your looks, you can really put any face forward - literally. While neither of them have any real appearance mods (though Sasuke does have his eye mods), they still have traits that don't match their exterior!      ...I'd...say more but it's very late. And ohhh man...just one more day to go. I hope y'all are ready for me to get super sappy on you tomorrow xD But for now, it's bedtime. Thanks for reading~

[b-icetea]

prompt n. 71 pls??

Silly relationship

nonsense :)

71. “You are the single best thing that has ever happened to me.”

David hates this fucking website.

He really does. Especially now that it’s time to upload his portfolio but the site is apparently not equipped to handle the high resolution of David’s work. The files were too big before, so he’s done his best to make them smaller, but he absolutely refuses to make them smaller yet again.

He’s got his standards, damnit.  

The page keeps crashing. Four times now, he has tried to upload the pictures. David is pretty sure he is going to dream of the error notifications tonight.

Now, though, finally, the page isn’t crashing, wonder of wonders. Instead, the little round thing next to the mouse icon is circling. Mocking David. Around and around it goes and the longer it happens, the more David can feel his shoulders tense. They’re somewhere near his ears right now.

Growling, David stares at it. Clicks out of the tab and onto another one where he has Netflix open, only to switch right back again, because a trailer for one of the site’s movies immediately, obnoxiously, starts playing and he doesn’t care about Wine Country or whatever the hell it is this time.

The website is still loading. David hits refresh. He’s pretty sure that made it worse, because this time the browser just gives up and shows him the error message again.

For the first time, he understands Matteo’s impulse to slide off of any furniture he sits on whenever life gets to be too much. Melting into a puddle of goo onto the floor sounds really awesome right about now. Goo puddles probably don’t get fucked over by university websites.

Since melting isn’t an option, because, sadly, he isn’t that flexible, David just crumples into a heap onto the desk. His head ends up buried in his arms. It’s really uncomfortable, because the position puts a lot of strain on his back and there has been a kink somewhere in his spine all day anyway. He can feel exactly where it is, directly between his shoulder blades.

It reminds him of that stupid mouse with that stupid circle. While he’s in the middle of contorting himself, trying to get the knot out of his spine and probably looking like a deranged cobra, he hears Matteo snort from where he’s sitting on the bed.

“You’re small”, he says, casually and basically out of nowhere.

David stops his contortions and looks back at him. He is propped up against the wall, headphones around his neck and plugged into his laptop. Judging by the way his fingers are moving across the keyboard, he’s probably playing something. His gaze is glued to the screen.

“No, you’re small”, David says, after a beat.

They’ve had this conversation before – if you can call it that, really – and he knows the script by heart.

“You’re smaller, though,” Matteo retorts instantly, eyes shooting David a quick look, before going back to whatever is happening on the screen.

“Wrong. I’m big.” David can feel a smile starting to tug on the corners of his lips.

He doesn’t really know when they started saying stuff like this. It’s super ridiculous – they just talk about the most inane stuff they can come up with until they can’t breathe because of all the laughing. That’s the purpose, of the whole thing, actually. Making the other one giggle and just marveling at the fact that you have someone you talk to about the literally dumbest things and they will not only love you anyways, they will talk right back at you, matching you word for word.

It means something, that. There’s intimacy in being stupid together, because it means you are so sure about the other person, you aren’t afraid of scaring them off with your dopiest self.

Matteo makes a skeptical noise in his throat and quirks his lips into something that looks like a downwards, frowny pout sort of thing. “I don’t see it. How big are you exactly?”

David throws out his arms out almost as far as they will go. “At least this big.”

His boyfriend looks at him and shakes his head a little. “I don’t know. That sounds like a lie.” He’s starting to grin as well, lopsided and dear.

“Are you calling me a liar, Mr. Florenzi?”, David says and lets his eyes go big in mock outrage.

“It’s because you’re lying.” Matteo presses his lips together and nods repeatedly.

“I’m not, though.”

“You’re small and soft and squishy, I don’t know what else to tell you, man.”

“I’ll show you squishy, you ass”, David half shouts and jumps out of his seat. Matteo instantly presses a button on his laptop, before hurriedly closing it and shoving it away.

It’s a good thing too, because David is already on him, fingers wiggling under Matteo’s white shirt and trying to find all the spots that make his boyfriend shriek with laughter. It’s one of the few times where Matteo is actually really loud.

Getting tickled is something he can’t endure quietly. He gasps and curls away from David, face bright and silly. Pressing his arms against his sides, he tries to make it impossible for David to get to his ribs, but David knows all of his weak spots, so he goes for his neck and after Matteo does his best impression of a turtle, he attacks the backs of his knees.

It goes back and forth a bit, Matteo feebly trying to give as good as he gets, but David won’t let him, because he’s ticklish everywhere, okay, so he can’t give Matteo even a little bit of leeway. It isn’t until long that they’re both out of breath and thank god it isn’t night this time, because last time they woke up Hans, who had the bad taste to tell them to keep their weird kinks to themselves.

David’s sides are hurting and his face feels hot, cheeks probably all red again, as they are all the damn time, anyway.

Matteo proves that perception right when he swipes his hand towards David’s head and drolly says “blushy, blushy” in a goblin voice. David catches his wrist instantly and bites him there, which makes Matteo snort.

They both sort of crumple into a heap then, David on top of Matteo, the two of them heaving for breath and letting out little giggles now and again while they calm down.

“I’m still stronger than you are”, David says once his heartbeat is back to normal. He feels like that needs to be known in case Matteo hasn’t learned his lesson.

“I’m still stronger than you are”, Matteo just says back in that stupid nasal voice he does for David sometimes.

In retaliation, David bites him again, this time on the jaw, because it’s the only place he can conveniently reach without moving too much.

“What kind of vampire are you, missing the neck and everything?”, Matteo grumbles, wiping the now slightly damp spot on David’s hair.

“You try to bite me all the time.”

“Yeah, but do I actually do it? I’m just playing. You’re the one that always makes things escalate.”

Indignant, David raises his head and looks into Matteo’s smug face. He looks like a gremlin. David has stopped questioning why he likes that so much.  

“Are you for real right now?”

“First things first, I’m the—”

“Do not”, David interrupts him, putting Matteo in a headlock and pressing his face against David’s neck so that the rest of his sentence gets muffled by his skin and all he can hear is Matteo’s snickering.

After a bit, Matteo stops and only presses his lips against David’s pulse point. Everyonce in a while, he can feel them move a little. It’s like his mouth is fidgeting and that mental image is so purely Matteo that David can’t help but smile and let the headlock he still got Matteo in soften into an embrace.

“You smell good,” Matteo tells him and David can feel every word against his neck.

“Your hair is soft”, David says back while rubbing his cheek against the dirty blond strands gently.

“You’ve got the nicest eyes,” Matteo answers, untucking his head from David’s neck to look at him, touching the skin beneath David’s right eye with the pad of his thumb and then just leaving his palm to rest against David’s cheek. David turns his head a little and presses a kiss right into the middle of it.

“Your ears are cute.”

“I like you so much,” Matteo murmurs and maybe that wouldn’t mean so much to some people, but in David’s head, you can, of course, like a person very much and not love them, but what often seems to be forgotten, is the fact that you can also love a person and not like them all that much.

David and Matteo are together, sure.

But they’re also best friends and while he’s young and this is his first real relationship, he’s pretty sure that’s what makes all the difference.

“I love you,” he says anyway, because Matteo needs to hear that and David likes saying it.

“You’re the single best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

The breath in his lungs seems to get lost somewhere halfway out of his body when he hears that.

Matteo looks a bit shy, but not nervous. He means it and he wants David to know.

It’s become a bit of a game, a competition. Telling each other all the things they like about each other. Stupid things, like how David loves that one mole behind Matteo’s ear and insists the mole marks that ear as the good one of the two. Things like Matteo being completely preoccupied by how soft David’s eyebrows are and how he’ll sometimes stroke a finger over each of them, smiling. But they also tell each other stuff that’s less silly and a bit harder to get out.

How breathing is easier when the other one is around. How David makes Matteo feel like he’s less of a fuck up. How Matteo gives David the courage to stop running.

But neither of them has ever said those exact words. David doesn’t think he has ever been the best anything for anyone. The mere idea that Matteo actually said that, because he sees these words as true enough to let them out into the world …

David knows he’ll hold onto these words. He can already feel them, inside of himself, where his heart is, somewhere around where he feels overfull in the best way, making a nest and settling down there for good.

He pulls Matteo against himself more securely and cradles his head in his palm like the precious thing he is. He won’t ever let this boy go. Not ever. Because that thing Matteo said?

David feels that, too.

They can be each other’s best thing forever. He thinks that’s what being together should always mean anyway.

[blacktofade]

For @wooshie-woosh​, who prompted, “they wouldn’t let me visit you in the hospital room unless i was family so i told them we’re married.”

*

Shane’s eyes are closed when Ryan steps into the room and shuts the door behind himself. He’s breathing evenly, but the silence is punctuated by intermittent snores, so loud that Ryan knows he must be on some kind of medication because Shane never snores. There’s a chair beside the bed that Ryan carefully lowers himself into before resting his fingers at the edge of Shane’s sheets. He wants to touch, but isn’t sure he’s allowed.

“You idiot,” he says gently. “You’re such a fucking idiot.”

Shane snorts on a particularly deep inhale and jerks himself awake, hands flailing and tugging at his IV line in a way that looks uncomfortable. Ryan quickly reaches out to grab his wrists, making sure he doesn’t hurt himself as he settles.

“Wha — ” Shane says, voice rough and confused, like he has no idea what’s actually happening.

“It’s just me,” Ryan tells him. “It’s Ryan.”

Shane looks over at him and blinks for a moment, before slumping into the pillows, his arms finally relaxing where Ryan has them pressed to the soft fabric of his hospital gown.

“Ryan?” he asks and turns his hand to grip at Ryan’s fingers like a lifeline. “You came to visit.”

“You stupid fucking idiot,” Ryan says and Shane’s gaze is sluggish, a tinge of sedation to it, like they’ve given him the good stuff.

“‘M thinking that’s not the first time you’ve said that.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Physically or mentally?”

“Shane,” Ryan implores and Shane lets out a laugh that doesn’t quite sound sober. It cuts off almost immediately as Shane pulls his hand away to press it to his side.

“Don’t make me laugh, Ryan,” he pleads and Ryan moves his hands to rest beside Shane's body, fingertips barely brushing the covers over his hip.

“What did you do, dummy?”

“I’m hurt, Ryan. You're legally obligated to be nicer to me,” Shane says, rolling his head to the side to keep watching Ryan without moving any further.

“No, I'm not,” Ryan snaps. “If you die, I need you to know how fucking stupid I think you are.”

Shane laughs again, but his hand finds Ryan’s once more like that’s the way it is now.

“I already know that,” Shane tells him. “But I’m not going to die. Just a few cuts and bruises.”

“Shane,” Ryan says in disbelief, “your lung collapsed.”

“Yeah, and I got a cool tube to reinflate it — want to see?”

He lifts his arm like he’s going to push aside his gown and show it off, but Ryan drags it back down with an emphatic, “No, Shane.”

Shane watches him for a moment before saying, “I didn’t do this on purpose.”

“I know,” Ryan replies, dragging his fingers through his hair in exasperation. “If you weren’t so stupidly tall, you wouldn’t have fallen so far. Why were you even standing on that chair?”

“I was helping with lighting for a video. I didn’t mean to lose my balance.”

Ryan hadn’t seen it happen, but he’d heard the commotion and when he’d gone to investigate, had seen Shane sprawled on the ground, gasping for breath and looking far too pale.

Ryan drops his head down, pressing his brow to the cool metal of the railing at the side of Shane’s bed. He takes a steadying breath and lets it out slowly. There’s the light touch of a hand on his neck, and Shane’s fingers rub across his skin soothingly.

“You okay?” Shane asks gently and Ryan laughs and finally raises his head.

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that?”

“I don’t know. So far all you’ve done is call me stupid.”

Ryan doesn’t think he has to say aloud that it’s his own way of admitting how much he cares. He hopes Shane already knows and the softness of his expression hints that he does. He goes to open his mouth and maybe try to put words to how he’s feeling, but there’s a knock on the door.

“Hi, Shane,” says the woman in scrubs who opens it and steps inside, and Shane lifts a hand to wave at her like they’re well acquainted. She glances at Ryan and smiles softly. “This must be your husband; they mentioned someone was visiting.”

Ryan can feel Shane’s gaze burning into the side of his head, but he avoids turning to look, praying that Shane knows to go along with it.

“Ryan Madej,” Ryan lies, holding his hand out for the nurse to shake, which she does.

“Arlene,” she replies. “You must be the Ryan he was asking for when he was sedated.”

Ryan actually turns to look at Shane then because perhaps they both have their own secrets. Shane doesn’t quite seem able to meet his eyes.

“I’m just here to change your dressing, Shane,” Arlene says, moving to the side of the bed opposite Ryan. “I’ll get out of your way soon — I know you guys probably want some quality time together after everything.”

Arlene is methodical as she exposes Shane’s side only enough to peel away the old bandage and check whatever it is she’s actually checking. Ryan, thankfully, can’t see much from where he’s sitting, but he can see the uncomfortable expression on Shane’s face and it’s the easiest thing in the world to slip his hand into Shane’s own and squeeze encouragingly. Shane squeezes back.

“He’s been a good patient,” Arlene tells Ryan as she carefully tapes a clean dressing over Shane’s side.

“I’m your favorite,” Shane jokes and Arlene makes a thoughtful face.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” she replies coolly and Shane laughs, clutching at his ribs again.

“You guys need to stop that,” Shane complains. “It hurts.”

Arlene pats his shoulder and then tucks the sheets back around him.

“You’ll get your next dose of pain medication with lunch,” she promises, before adding, “Don’t do anything that might pull at your tube.”

“No handstands,” Ryan tells him and Arlene glances over like maybe she was thinking Ryan would be the one to exacerbate things.

At his frown, she says, “No heavy petting.”

Ryan’s face heats. “We wouldn’t — ”

“That’s what they all say. Just keep your hands to yourselves,” she advises, but then she’s moving towards the door. “It was nice to meet you, Ryan.”

“You too,” Ryan replies weakly and the door shuts behind her, leaving them in silence.

There’s a beat, and then another, before Shane says, “Ryan Madej?”

Ryan drops his head back to the bed railing and lets out a heavy breath.

“They wouldn’t let me in unless I was family,” he admits. “In hindsight, I should’ve just said I was a cousin, not your husband.”

Shane huffs a laugh and sounds fond when he says, “Oh, Ryan,” even though it also sounds like he thinks Ryan’s an idiot.

Ryan sits upright to meet Shane’s gaze. “Yeah, well, what have you got to say about apparently asking for me when you were high?”

Shane gives half a shrug, looking casual. “If you’re trying to embarrass me, it won’t work.”

“Because you have no shame?”

“‘Cause I’m not embarrassed about asking for you.”

Another flush hits Ryan’s face and he clears his throat. “Cute.”

“Is that why you married me?”

“Shane,” Ryan pleads, but Shane doesn’t look repentant.

“I’m marriage material.”

“You’re on very strong drugs that have weakened your inhibitions,” Ryan tries to joke and Shane frowns.

“How dare you,” he says. “How dare you suggest I’ve ever had inhibitions.”

“Is there a button I can press to get Arlene back in here to knock you out?”

“This’ll end in divorce,” Shane says and Ryan finally reaches across to press a palm over his mouth. Shane looks at him with soft eyes that crinkle in the corners like he’s smiling under Ryan’s palm.

“Shane, shut the fuck up.”

He pulls his hand away and Shane almost lasts a full thirty seconds before he speaks.

“You always say the sweetest things.”

“I'm never going to hear the end of this,” Ryan mutters and Shane grins crookedly.

“It doesn't sound right, you know.”

Ryan glances down, trying to hide the disappointment in his voice as he says, “What? Us being together?”

“No, you taking my last name. Shane Bergara sounds way cooler.”

When Ryan looks up at him, Shane's watching him like he knows each and every dark secret Ryan has, like he knows just how panicked Ryan's been over the past day, trying to get to Shane's side. He sets his hand over one of Ryan's own and rubs his thumb along Ryan's knuckles.

“You know,” he says and Ryan can already tell that whatever it is that's about to leave Shane's mouth won't be good, “Arlene said no heavy petting.”

Ryan frowns at him. “Yeah, I was here for it if you’ve already forgotten.”

“I mean, she didn’t say anything about light petting.”

Ryan has to unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth. “What?”

“If you wanted to lay one on me, you could.”

“Lay one on you,” Ryan says as blandly as he can manage with his heart trying to thunder its way out of his chest.

“I could lay one on you, but you'd have to help me sit up and that would defeat the purpose.”

Ryan stares at Shane, feeling like maybe the drugs he’s on are stronger than he first thought. Shane stares back and Ryan becomes aware of an incessant beeping that pulls him from the moment. Looking over, he finds it’s the sound of the heart rate monitor Shane’s hooked up to. He blinks and Shane clears his throat.

“No cheating,” he says and Ryan looks back at him.

“What?”

“I’m over here trying to play it cool. Pretend you can’t hear that.”

Ryan realizes then that the uptick in Shane’s pulse is because of him. As calm and collected Shane appears on the outside making his little jokes about kissing, he’s internally freaking out, and Ryan can appreciate that, because he is too.

“Are you panicking because you don’t want me to do anything?”

“I’m not panicking,” Shane lies. “But if I were, it might be because I thought I was going to die earlier, which, looking back, I’ll admit is dramatic, but I kept thinking about how you might never know what I want.”

Ryan swallows. “What do you want?”

“Mostly you,” Shane says, causing another uptick on the heart rate monitor and it’s endearing how Shane tries his best to ignore it. “Maybe a cheeseburger.”

A silence stretches out between them as Ryan tries to organize his thoughts, but Shane’s expression shifts, like he’s thinking Ryan isn’t saying anything because he’s trying to find a way to let him down gently.

“I can only give you one of those things,” he blurts out, which doesn’t seem to help until he clarifies, “and it’s not the cheeseburger.”

The heart rate monitor kicks into overdrive then and Ryan glances at it, worried. “Are they going to think you’re having a heart attack in here?”

“Arlene is definitely going to assume there’s heavy petting going on.”

“What are rumors without a little truth to them?” Ryan says and Shane looks at him, his cheeks beginning to redden.

“So you are going to lay one on me?”

Ryan pushes himself up out of his chair and stands flush with the edge of the bed, peering down at Shane who looks anticipatory. With the beeping echoing around the room, Ryan gently sets a hand against the side of Shane’s face, feeling the heat of his skin while he bends at the waist to press their lips together softly.

Shane makes a quiet noise against his mouth and immediately tries to deepen it. Ryan pulls away, using his other hand on Shane’s shoulder to keep him from rising up to try to chase him.

“You call that a kiss?” Shane complains and Ryan swipes his thumb along Shane’s cheekbone.

“No heavy petting,” he reminds him and Shane scoffs.

“No heavy petting doesn’t mean no tongue. Kiss your husband like you mean it.”

Ryan blows out a breath and shakes his head. “I don’t know why I was worried about you. You’re still an idiot.”

“Okay, Ryan Madej,” Shane says, shifting a hand to the back of Ryan's head and pulling him in for another kiss. Ryan doesn’t fight it because it’s exactly what he wants and Shane’s mouth is soft against his own. Slowly, the beeping from the heart rate monitor evens out and Shane carefully pulls away. “See? You’re good for my health.”

Ryan rolls his eyes, but presses back in for another kiss, knowing it can tell Shane everything he can’t put into words, and for now, it’s enough.

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 227: Basically Just Me Saying “Holy Shit” a Bunch

Previously on BnHA: We went on a semi-enlightening romp into Toga’s past. Basically she was an adorable child who just so happened to have a taste for blood. And whoever’s job is was to explain to her, “hey Toga, I know you like blood, but other people like being alive, so, you know. Let’s explore some other options for you,” they basically dropped the ball there. So after she murdered her hapless Deku-looking classmate in middle school, she went on the run, and we basically know the rest. Back in the present, Toga had just been blown up from the inside out as you may recall, so she spent most of the chapter kind of out of it. At one point Kizuki even started talking about her like she was already dead, reassuring her that she’d become a martyr for the Army’s cause (which, no thanks). But then Toga managed to stumble to her feet and transform into Ochako as she tried to flee. It was revealed that while transformed, she can use the quirk of whoever she’s turned into, and she proceeded to demonstrate this by floating Kizuki (and half her redshirt goons) a hundred feet into the air before dropping her back down to the pavement. Yeah. So I’m pretty sure she’s dead now. Ah well.

Today on BnHA: Toga passes out in a shed after a job well done. We learn that the MLA is recording all of the fighting, most likely for propaganda purposes because as we have previously established they’re a bunch of dicks. Hanabata confirms that Kizuki is dead and gets the Army all fired up. They charge at Tomura, who is really fucking sleep-deprived you guys, and as he stands there blinking at them he has another flashback. Turns out the little girl from the previous flashback was his sister, and back when they were cute lil munchkins and she was still alive (sob), she showed him a picture of Nana and told him that their grandma was a hero. Tomura doesn’t remember this clearly, but he remembers the accompanying emotions, which is enough to get me hyped out of my mind fyi. Back in the present, Tomura disintegrates I’m-gonna-go-with-about-200 Army henchpeople basically instantaneously without even touching some of them, which, oh shit. And then Dabi is all “oh cool I want to do some mass murder too” but before he can let loose, some dude with fucking ice powers shows up to challenge him. I guess this means we’re never going to get Touya VS Shouto, or if we do it’s going to be very repetitive. But it’s not like I’m complaining either way. Here’s hoping the villain flashback trend continues next week because omfg.

(All comments are my unspoiled reactions from my first readthrough of this chapter like an hour ago lol. I did a quick edit for grammar and clarity, but aside from that this is as close to a live liveblog as I’m going to get. It took two-thirds of a year, but these recaps are finally caught up.)

this is so exciting guys. I mean, for me the reading process is basically the same, but the posting process is going to be a new one since I’ll be trying to get this up the same day once I’ve read it! so you can expect many exciting errors and brain farts! prepare for the full brunt of my unpolished rough draft thoughts!

so anyway, here’s Toga

lol so much to analyze here. real quick:

“sleepy.” if that isn’t the most relatable chapter title in the history of time, though

loving the “my villain academia” logo in the background! as far as I’m concerned that’s the official title of this arc

“the conclusion of the battles” y’all I read this and I was like “what?! already!?!” but then I realized they’re talking about volume 23, which features the conclusion of the joint training battle arc. so who knows how many more villain battlin’ chapters we’ve still got ahead. I have a feeling we’re already winding down, though

note how all of the stuffed animals are stabbed. ah this girl

it’s 2214, who the fuck still uses polaroid cameras. that would be like someone in our time using a [googles inventions from 200 years ago] modern suspension bridge. ...wait

anyway you guys maybe I should start reading the actual chapter already if I want any hope of actually getting this posted before fucking midnight though

oh hey, so Toga is dying in a shed you guys. fun

I’m not really thrilled about this! to be honest! I mean for fuck’s sake she’s only 17. she was blown up from the inside out. and although the consequences initially seemed to have possibly been handwaved, it appears that no one can escape BnHA’s realistic injury clause for long! so. yeah

I get why she hid, because it’s not like the others are just gonna drop everything to come help her (although Twice, though...), and there are enemies everywhere so this is probably safer. but it also means that if she passes out here there’s a good chance she’s not going to wake up again! and that is bad! that is very much not good

what she really needs to do is call Ujiko! hitch a ride out of there while you still can! he is a doctor, right? even if it is the questionable mad scientist type! worst case, you end up as a Noumu. actually, wait a sec, maybe we should think this through

and yet the fact that she’s still laughing, though. just. goddammit. I love her so much. I swear to god Toga if you fucking die...!!

so now she’s curling up in the fetal position and thinking “once again I’ve gotten closer to you”

yeah, Deku really does do this every other week. or he did for a little while at least sob

and now we are cutting to ReDestro who for some reason is monologuing about Toga!

oh right, because he had the cameras and shit set up to livestream that shit

okay but is it just me or is he not looking at any cameras. he’s just enjoying the view from his little observation tower same as before. does his quirk allow him to see everywhere at once or what

is it bad that I barely even paid attention to the actual content of his ramblings lol. it’s just the same old same old. blah blah society rejects anyone who’s different, it’s so unfair, blah blah

it’s not a bad point, mind you; it’s just that RD and his army are completely full of shit and acting like they’re so much better even though they’re just a bunch of mur-diddly-urderers. it’s like how PETA acts like they’re champions of animal rights when really they mostly just kill shelter animals, insult Steve Irwin, and claim that milk causes autism. but I digress sob

oh shit I forgot about this dude

here I was thinking there was only the one other miniboss to go before the big bad. silly me. how could I have forgotten that two page spread and our friend here with the Gorillaz mouth and the Beatles haircut

wow are you serious?

Giran sitting there with one skeptical eyebrow raised thinking about how these guys threatened to kill him in order to lure his friends out so that they could, you guessed it, kill them!

and also, way to completely disregard the dozens of other minions who already bit the dust before Kizuki. like, your entire town is basically doomed, guy. but sure let’s cry for the one dead villain who actually had a name though

holy shit you guys

are you telling me that’s why you were recording the whole thing? is that why you invited the League here in the first place?? for the fucking publicity? kill the bad guys and earn the public’s good will? did I miss that part of the planning sesh, or was this objective already painfully obvious and I somehow either missed it or forgot all about it?

either way it’s amazing how these guys become bigger assholes with each progressive chapter

oh now he’s explaining it all on the next page lol. so I guess I didn’t miss the memo, good

okay but first he’s getting real physical with my boy Giran here though

okay first of all, all he did was say “footage...?” like wth was so fucking impolite about that. and second, why do I get the feeling that there’s probably a fair percentage of people who read this chapter and got to this panel and now suddenly ship it sob

I mean, he just got so up close and personal though. all up in his face. this guy has such a weird energy and it’s really creeping me out now ngl

anyway so here we go with the explanations

holy shit you guyssssssssss

when did Giran get so fucking hot?? and is he single?! asking for a friend???!

anyway so now RD is wiping away his crocodile tears and says Giran is lacking in imagination

oh hey

what an interesting segue back to Tomura!

wow, Spinner’s asking how much longer until Big G wakes up, and Compress says one hour and twenty minutes. so that means they’ve already been at it for like an hour and fifteen minutes! minus however much time it took to warp over and then follow Back-Stab n’ Go out to the center of town for the ambush. even if that took a whole half hour they’ve still been fighting for a long time! but I guess they’re more than used to that by this point, thank you so much Ujiko and your six weeks of brutal endurance training

Spinner’s all “no matter how many we defeat, they just keep on coming!” and I know, dude, it’s almost like there’s over one hundred thousand of them or something dfskdj

although to be fair, probably not every last one of them is actually there. can you imagine. it might take a whole nother hour to beat them all

now Hanabata is driving in on the back of an election van. because apparently he just fucked right off in the middle of his fight with the League, and then came back. with a van

so he’s all “EVERYONE I HAVE SOME DEEPLY SADDENING NEWS” and oh my gosh what is it

oh

yeah dude we already been knew. RIP and all that

so the crowd is all distressed and asking what the Supreme Leader said

really?? that’s what they call him?? yeah you guys aren’t evil at all

and Hana quotes, “‘do not let her sacrifice be in vain’“

sorry bruh. but. it’s gonna be in vain. hate to break it to you

right??

GASP

TWICE STOP BEING AWED AT HANABATA’S INFLUENTIAL AURA AND START PAYING ATTENTION TO THE DUDE WHO’S SNEAKING UP BEHIND YOU AND TRYING TO SNATCH YOUR MASK OFF

anyway so in the meantime this is happening

maybe there are 100k of them. seems like there’s a lot. I do like that from this angle it appears that Tomura and the others have holed up in a relatively narrow alley, thus creating a choke point and limiting the number of enemies who can attack them all at once. although this panel does make it look like there’s just a big ol’ wave of bad guys surfing their way towards them though, so it remains to be seen how effective this strategy will actually be lol

eh?

yeah no shit boy you’ve been fighting Daruk from BotW for the last month and a half

anyway so apparently he’s feeling ~weird~ though

I shit you not guys, my sister was hospitalized a couple months back (she’s fine now) because she started hallucinating after a three-day bout of insomnia. shit is no joke. don’t be like Tomura. go to bed and don’t stay up all night fighting villains

-- OH SHIT!?!

ASDFALSDFHLKSDHLFKJHAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

IT’S A LITTLE GIRL!! AND SHE’ S OPENING A SECRET DRAWER!!

SHE’S ALL “IT’S OUR LITTLE SECRET!” OH MY GOD

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

SWEET JESUS MARY JOSEPH!? HORIKOSHI DO YOU FUCKING READ THE THEORY POSTS ON TUMBLR JUST SO YOU CAN IMMEDIATELY SHIT ON THEM TWO DAYS AFTER?? HOW THE FUCK

AND IS NANA’S SON WEARING DEKU SHOES?? OH MY GOD PLEASE

AND THIS MEANS THE LITTLE GIRL IS ACTUALLY TENKO’S SISTER SOBBBBBBBBB NOOOOOOOOOOOOO

BUT ON THE PLUS SIDE THIS MAKES TOMURA MUCH MORE LIKELY TO GO APESHIT ON AFO’S ASS IF HE COMES TO REALIZE THAT AFO INDIRECTLY MURDERED HIS SISTER OH SHIT

BUT SHIT YOU GUYS, SHE’S SO CUTE AND SHE’S FUCKING DEAD NOW SOB THAT’S SO FUCKING HORRIBLE I MEAN IT I’M REALLY UPSET THOUGH

BUT LET’S CONTINUE WITH THE FLASHBACK TO SEE IF HORIKOSHI WANTS TO TOY WITH MY EMOTIONS ANYMORE!!

NANA DIDN’T DO A GOOD ENOUGH JOB ERASING ALL TRACES OF HER CONNECTION TO HER CHILD AND IT EVENTUALLY RESULTED IN HIS DEATH OH SHIT. I’M SERIOUSLY SO UPSET ABOUT THIS??

NOTE HOW BABY TENKO’S FACE IS PURPOSELY BLACKED OUT EVEN THOUGH (A) HIS SISTER’S IS NOT, AND (B) WE SHOULD, IN THEORY, ALREADY KNOW WHAT HE LOOKS LIKE! IT’S BECAUSE HE DOESN’T HAVE THE SCARS OR THE WHITE HAIR YET CUZ AFO HASN’T WIPED HIS MEMORIES. [nods sagely as though I have any sort of proof of this whatsoever and it’s not all just wild speculation and conjecture]

HANAAAAAAAA oh shit I better come up with another nickname for Hanabata then. looks like it’s Back To The Full Name for you mister

!!?!?!?

okay you guys I think this is intentional misdirection. we’re meant to believe that Tenko’s dad was perhaps abusive and that his behavior toward his son ultimately triggered the awakening of his quirk and led to all of the subsequent Horrible Things happening

but I think what it actually is is that Tenko’s dad probably resents Nana for giving him up. and maybe Tenko wanted to know more about her and maybe he got in trouble for it? because now Hana is showing him the picture, and then talking about this mysterious conversation with their dad and saying she’s on Tenko’s side. so that’s my bet

anyway! but this means Tomura might not need as much convincing as I previously speculated! I figured he probably wouldn’t know much, if anything, about his grandma even if he did somehow get his memories back, because he was only four when all that shit went down, and Nana had parted ways with Tomura’s dad years ago. but if he actually did know a bit about her and even possibly felt a connection with her, as this flashback suggests, that could go a long way towards fueling his eventual breakaway from AFO’s side once All Might is able to explain the truth

ahhhhh you guys this is exciting I’m excited. though also still very sad though because wtf seriously

so Tomura’s tiredly thinking that the least his stupid memories could do is show him the whole picture instead of these fragments. “it’s like a broken tape recording or something”

HOLY SHIT

...I have no words. holy shit

anyone else getting flashbacks to the Highway to Hell though? what is it with Tomura and periodically pulling off the most badass stunts in the whole fucking manga. all because he didn’t get his nap dsflkjlk

ReDestro look at this loss of life. are you crying again. no, I can’t imagine that you are. you ass

you guys are probably getting tired of me just going “holy shit” over and over, but

hooooooooooooly shit

guys, if Tomura can dust people without even touching them he might as well just change his name to fucking Thanos and we’d better start praying this kid gets redeemed and soon

so now there’s a panel of Tomura being all drooly, and honestly he looks like he’s about to pass out. not sure if this is intended to be a glam shot or what lol

ohhhhSHIT

YESSSSSSSSSSS DABI. DRACARYS

!LKJDSLFKJLSDKJF!!

OH SHIT YOU GUYS, IT LOOKS LIKE WE’RE ABOUT TO GET ALL A SONG OF ICE AND FIRE UP IN THIS BITCH

who is this weird little black mage. I’ll tell you one thing, he’s the only guy I’ve seen so far who’s actually dressed appropriately for fucking December weather, though, so good on him

will he defeat our boy Touya (spoilers, he won’t)? will Touya have some flashbacks of his own (TOUYA PLEASE), since that seems to be what all the cool kids are doing these days? will I lose my fucking shit all over again next week? stay tuned! but yes I absolutely will, oh jesus this is awesome

[mewtwowarrior]

Earlier, @writeinspiration was telling me about a tabletop game they were in where everybody had picked one of the Seven Deadly Sins for their characters to add to their backstories, and it got me to thinking about how they were present or not present in Ark’s life.

So, here are character analyses rooted in the Deadly Sins, the Virtues, and the Horsemen of the Apocalypse.

Some of these may not quite apply, so I'm interpreting them how I like. I got the lists and information about them from Wikipedia.

Also, some of these may end up being subject to change as I work on Ark more.

-

Seven Deadly Sins

Lust: Wikipedia defines lust as "intense longing" for anything. I don't really think there's anything that Ark really longs after, at least, not in any significant way. She's pretty focused on her job.

In the romantic sense of the word, I'm torn between giving her any kind of love interest and none at all. On the one hand, it'd be pretty cute, on the other hand, it's not really necessary? I'm definitely not completely opposed to it, and may play around with my options. It's something I've been going on back and forth for ages.

Gluttony: Wikipedia defines gluttony as "overindulgence and overconsumption". I don't think there's anything she'd really go overboard with. Maybe if she got worked up over the Games, she might play for longer than she should, but I think that'd be a pretty rare thing.

She definitely wouldn't take way more power than she needs to keep herself running, but might get a little extra for emergencies.

Greed: Wikipedia defines greed as an intense desire to own things. I think I kinda covered most of the greed stuff under gluttony. But, as for owning things, Ark probably doesn't have or need a whole lot. I imagine she's probably got a few things for sentimental value and a few things that she likes, but she's usually too busy and active to stay at home and enjoy her stuff, so she doesn't amass a lot of things.

Sloth: Wikipedia defines sloth as "omitting responsibilities". That's pretty much the exact opposite of Ark. She takes her job (and her programming) very seriously. She works hard, and only on her time off does she relax. Though, I could see her possibly getting sidetracked in the Games or with something else that might end up making her late, but that'd be a very rare occasion.

Wrath: Wikipedia defines wrath as "anger" and "the wish to seek vengeance". That's a tough one. Overall, she doesn't have a whole lot of anger. She might get frustrated with situations or Programs, but she's usually got so much to do that it ends up being mostly forgotten.

However, the seeking vengeance part is a little tricky. When she lives that long, she's determined to do whatever it takes to stop Clu. Which, now that I think about it, I can't help but wonder if part of it is a little bit of a streak of revenge for all the pain and suffering he's caused. I'll have to think on that more.

Envy: Wikipedia defines envy as wanting things someone else has. Overall, Ark's not really envious of most anyone. However, I gotta think she's just a little bit envious that Tron's never lost in the Games. But, I try to write them on friendly terms, so it's probably not something she really thinks about, or it was something she was envious about in the past, but once they became better friends, it didn't matter any more.

Pride: Wikipedia defines pride as "selfishness" and "refusing to acknowledge one's one limits, faults, or wrongs". In the selfishness area, Ark's not terribly selfish, and her programming doesn't exactly allow her to be. However, I can definitely see her refusing to acknowledge her limits. She's good at what she does, so I can see her developing a proud streak where she just doesn't realize that maybe there's some things that she can't do. She probably would apologize quickly for any faults or wrongs, but I could see that maybe in some rare cases, she'd dig in for a little while before finally admitting that she messed up.

Bonus Sins

Acedia/"without care": Wikipedia defines acedia as "depression without joy" and "melancholy". Ark can definitely hit a depressed slump, but she usually can pull herself out of it or just accept what's going to happen.

Vanity: Wikipedia defines vanity as "unjustified boasting". Ark definitely wouldn't exaggerate or boast about things. She would take pride in her job and her wins, but I don't think she'd brag about it too much, maybe just make a passing comment about it.

Seven Virtues

Chastity: Wikipedia defines chastity as "refraining from unreasonable romantic relationships". I covered a lot of this under lust. If Ark did have any romantic relationships, I figure she'd probably be pretty serious about them. If she has had any at all, she's probably just had one or very few of them.

Temperance: Wikipedia defines temperance as "moderation or voluntary self-restraint". Overall, Ark probably does most things in moderation. Though, I can see her maybe end up working too much, or enjoying playing in the Games a little much.

Charity: Wikipedia defines charity as having "two parts: love of God" and love of one's neighbor and one's self". The first part is tricky because of the Users in the Tron universe. She probably doesn't think about Flynn a whole lot, however, she does whatever she can to uphold her programming, so I guess that's kinda like her doing her divine purpose. As for love of her neighbors, she gets along with a lot of Programs, including the ISOs. She does whatever she can to make things right for everybody, she believes that when she was programmed to protect the Grid, that meant everyone on it.

Diligence: Wikipedia defines diligence as "a work ethic". I've covered this in some of the other things, but Ark has a pretty strong work ethic. She works hard to make sure that everyone is safe.

Patience: Wikipedia defines patience as "the ability to endure difficult circumstances". I think for the most part, Ark is pretty patience. Everybody has their buttons, though. And, I think she could get impatient sometimes about trying to stop Clu, but overall, I think she'd be easily able to wait.

Kindness: Wikipedia defines kindness as "acts of generosity, consideration, or concern for others, without having an expectation of praise or reward". Ark embodies kindness greatly both in and out of her job. She doesn't expect praise for anything she does, however, if someone told her what a great job she was doing, she'd gladly accept the praise.

Humility: Wikipedia defines humility as "the quality of being humble" and "a low self-regard and sense of unworthiness". By that definition, Ark's not humble at all. She knows she's good at her job. She wouldn't brag about it, but she has a pretty good self esteem. She doesn't think like super highly of herself or anything and wouldn't brag about it, but she's aware that she's pretty competent.

Bonus Virtues

Prudence: Wikipedia defines prudence as "the ability to govern and discipline oneself by the use of reason". Ark is fairly reasonable, but I can see that if she thought something was right, she might dig in, even if it wasn't the best idea.

Justice: Wikipedia defines justice as "the virtue which regulates man in his dealings with others". I think Ark probably embodies justice fairly well, especially because of her job. She tries to do what's right for people, no matter who she's dealing with.

Fortitude: Wikipedia defines fortitude as "brave endurance". Ark is definitely brave, even if she's scared, she faces things as best as she can. She probably also has a lot of endurance, able to keep going past when she probably should - tying into stubbornness.

Faith and Hope: While she does have down moments, overall, Ark has faith that things will eventually start heading towards the better. She never fully gives up, always pulling herself out of her despair to to her best.

Loyalty: Ark is very loyal and won't betray someone, unless they've completely turned.

Horsemen of the Apocalypse

Conquest: Ark doesn't embody conquest, she doesn't fight to obtain anything. (However, if she was brainwashed by Clu, she'd definitely be a tool of conquest.)

War: Ark is fully in on war, be it war against gridbugs and other threats to the system or fighting against Clu. The Games in the Arena might also be considered games of war. Her life is characterized by war in any era.

Famine: If you could characterize famine in the Tron universe as a lack of electronic power, there might be some grounds for it in Ark's life. As a Basic, I think I read that they're confined to the cities, as that's where they draw power from. However, since she's a System Monitor, she might have a little more freedom, if something bad showed up in the Outlands, they'd need Monitors to take care of it. There might also be power outages in the cities, which would definitely cause problems. But, overall, it's not something that's a big focus in Ark's life.

Death: Death wasn't much of a thing in Ark's life until after Clu takes over. There were probably accidents, but I think most Programs survived beforehand. While she wasn't involved in it, the death of all of the ISOs affected her. She wouldn't derezz innocents, but she'd derezz guards and sentries and anyone determined to keep fighting on Clu's side. If she got stuck in the deadly Games, she wouldn't be thrilled or proud about it, but she'd fight to survive. Now, death is a constant presence in her life.

Pestilence: Since Ark fights against computer viruses and bugs, she's an anti-pestilence. (If she got infected or fully turned into a virus, she'd be a spreader of pestilence.)