#Red Hood has a pretty crush on ghost boy

[flamingpudding]

Danny, the 'twig' Bouncer #2

A/N: My original Idea was that Danny worked at some random neutral Bar. Buuuut the Reblogs were inspiring, so I think I will add to this whenever I get some ideas. Also now our sweet super dense Ghost boy is working in the Iceberg Lounge as Bouncer. But just a warning, I know like zero cannon names of people that work there aside from who owns it in the dc comics. Sooo yea... sorry if i get something wrong here. It's just that titbit would make Danny's obliviousness a whole lot more funny....

Exactly 30 days later, one month, Danny stepped back into the bar through the front doors. He would have gone in through the back door but that entrance was currently blocked by a van. Probably some drink delivery's for the bar. Probably. They did look busy enough that Danny didn't want to squeeze past them just to get in. Last guy who disrupted their work got fired on the spot. Or at least Danny hadn't seen the guy ever again. He still needed the job to sedate his obsession. So he took the front door.

Man his weird promotion must have been gossiped about. People kept staring at him wide eyed, though he noticed a couple of his coworkers appear to be relieved to see him again. He just gave them a smile before going to the back rooms. Though he couldn't help but glance at the red helmet guy. He had been hanging around the entrance to Danny's underground home and seemed to appear every time Danny had left his home to get some groceries, some materials for his pet projects or some sort of fresh air. He had caught the guy laying our traps and he also had offered him a better payed job. Danny had declined though.

He needed to lay low. And he didn't think working for someone with a recognisable red helmet was laying low. Besides his underground-neighbours, Waylon and Grundy, said the guys name was Red Hood, and that he was a known Crime Lord apparently. Which only added to the fact that working for Red Helmet dude was not going to help handle his obsession. A shame, he did seem like a nice guy to hang out with, ignoring the weird feeling Danny was getting around him. But yeah, working for that guy surely wasn't laying low.

"Danny you're back, alive." He blink at Tailor, one of the other bouncers a good head or two taller than him and just hummed in greeting, resisting to make an insider pun. Not like he could tell the guy that he was actually half dead, then he remembered a hole in a wall he saw on his way to work. Originally he was going to ask Steve, the barkeeper and gossip source of the bar, but Tailor was just as good of a source.

"Hey Tailor, what happened to the wall across the street?" He asked as he took off his shirt to change it for his working shirt.

"You don't know? Red Hood cut the wall with the Jokers imprint out and is keeping it as a trophy, or that's what I heard."

"The Joker's imprint?" Danny tilted his head confused, it sounded like someone threw the guy with immunity against a wall hard enough to leave a human shaped imprint. Huh, Danny wondered, I hope I didn't inspire someone to do that with my stunt a month ago. From what he remembered his boss telling him, messing with the guy that called himself Joker was a very bad idea and could result in permanent death for normal human beings.

His thoughts must have been shown on his face because Tailor just laughed, shaking his head as he patted Danny's shoulder and left the backrooms first. Leaving the ghost boy to mull over it and also wonder why Red Hood would even want to keep a piece of wall as a trophy.

He was still thinking about it as he leaned against the wall in his usual Spot when Red Hood approach him.

"So, you thought about the job offer? I can include one of my safe houses as an apartment for you." The modulated voice resounded and Danny frowned, that was a tempting offer but...

"No thanks. Thanks to my promotion vacation, I finally had time to fix my kitchen area and the air filtration my neighbor as been nagging me about for weeks."

"You live in the sewers." Even through the voice modulation Danny caught the unimpressed, deadpan, are-you-serious tone and barked out a laugh in response.

"It's rent free, I got my own space mostly fixed up and I got two neighbors with similar intents of staying out of sight that only asked me to help fix their spaces up too. All that's missing is finally finding a clean water source I can pull from to finish my bathroom and washing area."

"What the fuck? Why the sewers if I can offer you a fucking safe house?" Danny grinned, living underground was nice, no one was there to disturb him. There was no real address to track him back to and a lot of quick escapes routes should certain people show up. He had build his own little underground apartment which had nearly all utilities a normal apartment had. Plus he got two very nice neighbors, that had been grumpy in the beginning, but eventually warmed up to him. Now they even occasionally spared with him, so he gets fights where he didn't have to hold his strength back, it was great!

"If I don't find a clean water source, I will just put building a water filtration system on my pet project list right after fixing our TV system so me and my neighbours can stream and i can show them what a real horror movie night really is about." He shrugged, turning his eyes away from Red Hood who's voice modulator sounded sort of strangled or like the man was muttering something inaudible and watched a couple of drunks stumbling around the club with narrowed eyes.

"Triple. I will pay you triple if you work for me."

Danny side-eyed the man before pushing off the wall. The drunks were starting to cause a problematic ruckus, and Steve had signaled him to get them out. "Sorry man, still not interested."

He pushed up some imaginary sleeves before letting a friendly buisness smile spread across his face as the crowd started to cheer the moment they noticed Danny approaching the drunks. "Okay buddies! Time to get out, peace is an option!"

Red Hood watched how one of the drunks swung at the 'twig' bouncer before getting flipped and carried with one hand by the neck like a cat. Danny now sporting a feral grin as he stared at the other drunks that looked torn between attempting to fight him and fleeing.

The crime lord continued watching the display of strength and breath taking feral grin for a while longer before a distinctive "Fuck." Came through his voice modulator.

[blitzendoggo]

5 Times Mercury Was a Flirt (+1 Time He Was Flirted With)

Captain Mercury is an overly friendly man. In most cases, this is a good thing, but when your entire friend group thinks you're flirting with them, there is a small issue.

In this AU, Godforce doesn’t happen, and Canyon is a “good” murder hobo.

Captain Mercury/S.G. Iguess, Captain Mercury/Mr. Goodbid, Captain Mercury/Glib Murphy, Captain Mercury/Mystery of the Canyon (5115 words)

~~

1) S.G.

“S.G.!” Mercury calls the moment they step on the ship. “Where have you been?”

“What do you mean?” They ask as the rest of their party boards the ship dispersing across the deck.

Mercury waltzes up to them, crushing them into a tight hug before releasing them, standing a little closer than he normally does. “You weren’t with the others for the last two missions! I was worried about you!”

“Worried about me?” they ask, suddenly very thankful that changelings can’t blush easily.

“Yeah, I heard you were sick,” the captain says with large worried eyes. “I’m glad you’re feeling better!” His smile is blinding and warm.

S.G. is wordless for a moment before sheepishly saying, “Yes, well, I had caught Goblin Fever from a group of bandits we fought. Prophis wouldn’t let me come on any missions until I was over it.”

“So, it’s him I have to blame?” Mercury teases before taking a more serious tone. “I’ve caught that before. It’s right awful with the shakes and the dazedness. I’m glad you made it out alright.” There’s a moment’s pause before he says, “I’d even argue that you look better than ever after it if that’s even possible!”

“I Do?”

Mercury nods. “Yeah, your skin is practically glowing,” he says with a sweet smile, tilting his head to the side as admires the shorter.

“I love flattery, but there’s no need,” they titter.

“But I mean it!” Mercury laughs, gesturing widely with his hands. “You always look so pretty! I’m beginning to suspect magic is at play,” he teases.

S.G. shakes their head, a blush certainly painting their face. “No magic, just me.”

“Smooth, S.G., smooth,” Glib teases from across the deck.

“Shut up!” they snap, sending a glare his way before looking back at the merman.

Mercury laughs, not having heard the exchange between the friends. “Really? You’re not hiding some sort of charm under that hood?”

“No, why would I hide anything under the hood?” S.G. responds automatically, naturally bad at flirting. From somewhere else on the ship, they hear the boys snicker and the changeling makes a mental note to Psychic Lance the three of them when they get the chance.

“So no one would learn your secret,” Mercury counters easily. He reaches up and stops his hand just next to the edge of their hood. “May I?”

“Sure,” they squeak.

The captain gently pulls the hood back, smoothing the purple fabric. He studies their face, a twinkle in his eye. “Well, my apologies for the accusations.”

“Why? Do you think I’m not pretty?” the changeling challenges, a ball of anxiety forming in their stomach.

Mercury laughs a high, warm sound. “No, because clearly, your beauty is natural.”

“Oh,” they squeak, voice becoming steadily higher the longer they stand near the merman.

“So, I apologize for accusing you of using magic,” he continues with a smile, not paying any mind to the fact that S.G. has become a red mannequin.

Mercury does not move from their personal space as his hand lingers around their neck, idly playing with the fabric of their hood. He smiles so kindly and S.G. is certain that this is how they die.

“Apology accepted,” they say breathlessly.

“Ya know, with the way your face blushes,” he says lowly, dropping his head down to be next to the changeling’s ear, “I’d love to see how the rest of looks.” He ghosts his fingers across their collar while the other runs up their arm.

S.G. fully freezes, completely unable to respond as their brain comes to a screeching halt. Their brain is running impossibly fast while also being completely silent, but Mercury does not mind as he leans back and admires the suddenly dark blush that paints the changeling’s face.

Thankfully, before S.G. can say anything too embarrassing, Canyon slides up next to the Captain, drawing his attention away from the slowly dying changeling.

“Hiya, fish boy!” he says, clapping Mercury on the shoulder.

“Canyon!” the captain cheers. “I was just talking to S.G. here!”

Canyon gives S.G. a once over, a smirk on his face. “I can tell.”

Mercury tilts his head to the side. “What do you mean by that?”

The tabaxi snickers. “Nothing,” he says while shaking his head before loudly saying, “When are we leaving for Bowenburg?”

“Oh, well, right now, I suppose,” he says with a chuckle. He flashes S.G. that same blinding smile. “Can’t keep the lovely people waiting, can we?”

“No,” they choke out.

With a laugh, Mercury walks back to the helm, a skip in his step as he whistles a familiar sailing tune.

Canyon waits until the merman is out of earshot before saying, “You’re shit at flirting.”

They smack him on the back of the head, knocking the cat man forward as he laughs.

*

2) Goodbid

To say Goodbid was having a bad day, would be an understatement. He’s had two contracts go sour; his suit effectively ruined from a combination of holes, blood, and wine stains; a hit nearly escaped; and his beloved bottom hat has a hole the size of Glib in it. All within the last twelve hours. And if Goodbid had to rank how bad this day was compared to the other seven days of this week? It is probably in third place.

He stands on Sky Skimmer’s top deck, leaning heavily against the rails as he watches the world rush by. Mercury had been kind enough to pick him up from his solo mission in Abellio and fly him back to Riftreach.

“You look like hell, mate,” the aforementioned captain says from behind him.

“Bad week,” the hitman replies simply, not in the mood for their normal playful banter.

The merman leans against the railing next to Goodbid, a little closer than the hitman was expecting. “Anything I can do to help?” he asks, leaning closer to the half-elf, glancing at his lips as he does.

“Uh, I don’t believe so,” Goodbid says, the tension in the air increasing tenfold.

Wordlessly, Mercury reaches up, his fingers grazing up the businessman’s neck before using his thumb to smooth his mustache into place while he cups his jaw.

“Mercury?” Goodbid asks breathlessly and only slightly panicked.

Mercury slowly looks away from his mouth and makes heavy eye contact. “Sorry, mate, it was sticking up all weirdly,” he says lowly, not removing his hand from his face.

Goodbid swallows. “It’s alright.” He can feel the blush running up his neck and settling high on his cheeks.

Mercury traces the blush down his neck with his fingers, stopping at the hitman’s stained collar.

“You’re hurt?”

It takes Goodbid an embarrassing few seconds to register what is being said to him.

“Just a few cuts, nothing I can’t handle,” he says, with a shaky smile as he desperately holds onto what’s left of his dignity.

Mercury runs the tips of his fingers along the largest of the stains before bringing them to his face. His tongue darts out and licks the thin red liquid off his fingers before grinning at Goodbid. “You taste like wine.”

The hitman makes a choked noise. “I- uh- had a jug of- um- wine dumped on me. Yeah,” he sputters, running a hand through his hair as he looks away.

Mercury places a hand on Goodbid’s cheek and forces him to look him in the eye. “Are you telling me that you have wine spilled over open wounds and you didn’t clean them?” Mercury asks with mild annoyance.

“I- well, I-” He coughs looking down before saying, “I don’t got spare clothes on here and I was gonna wait until I got home.”

“I have clothes you can borrow,” Mercury says dismissively. He steps back and Goodbid takes a shuttering breath. “Are you coming?” Mercury teases as he walks to the captain’s quarters.

The hitman nearly trips over himself as he scrambles to keep up.

The captain's quarters are decorated in deep greens and blues with a messy dark wood desk along one wall and a beautiful bed in the center of the far wall.

“Just sit on the bed and take off your shirt,” Mercury instructs as he walks over to a drawer and pulls out a med kit. Goodbid unbuttons his shirt slowly, wincing as the motions pull at the cuts on his chest. When Mercury turns around he looks over Goodbid’s freshly exposed chest with interest.

“Enjoying the view?” Goodbid teases, rolling his shoulders back before wincing at the subsequent pain.

Mercury snickers at him as he hands over a minor healing potion. “Drink this while I patch you up.”

The potion doesn’t taste pleasant, but it is a welcomed distraction from Mercury's cool hands touching his bare chest as he cleans the wounds with a wet rag before moving to cleaning them with rubbing alcohol.

Goodbid hisses, grabbing onto Mercury’s shoulders as he cleans out a cut that was borderline infected.

“That’s it,” Mercury murmurs, clearly not paying attention to his own words. “You’re doing good, almost done.”

Goodbid makes a noise in the back of his throat, this time not from the cleaning, as Mercury continues to whisper praises while he wraps the cuts tightly. The merman steps back to admire his handy work before going over to a trunk and pulling out a clean shirt. He starts to hand Goodbid the shirt before pulling it back, clearly contemplating something.

“What? Am I not allowed to have a shirt?” Goodbid teases.

“Let me put it on you,” Mercury answers as he steps closer.

The injured man sputters. “Pardon?”

“You’ll strain yourself trying to pull it over your head,” he explains easily as he stands in front of the other. “Lift your arms a little.”

Goodbid does as he’s told, pointedly ignoring the bright red blush painting his face. Mercury easily pulls it onto him before smoothing it down the hitman’s chest. Before either of them can say anything, the boards under their feet rumble.

“Sky Skimmer’s tellin’ me to go back up to steer her,” the captain explains apologetically. “She’s sayin’ we’re almost to port.”

“It’s alright,” Goodbid says with his signature grin, although on the inside he is more than a little annoyed at the interruption.

Mercury disappears out the door, calling, “Stay put, don’t strain yourself!” over his shoulder as he goes. Goodbid sits in a stunned silence as he tries to make sense of everything that just happened. By the time he’s made any progress, the merman pokes his head in with a smile that damn near kills the hitman where he sits. “We’re here.”

Goodbid nods as he stands. “When do you want this shirt back?”

Mercury approaches him slowly and runs his fingers along the hem of the shirt before he gives Goodbid a knowing smile. “Keep it,” he says as he steps back, “It looks good on you.”

Goodbid’s blush returns with a vengeance as the captain goes back out of the room, leaving the poor hitman reeling.

*

3) Glib

The frogman sits alone in the storeroom of Sky Skimmer. He’s starving and desperately trying to keep his thoughts away from anything to do with eating which he is failing at rather spectacularly. Glib groans, running a hand over his face.

The clicking of approaching steps draws him out of his thoughts.

“Everything okay, mate?” Mercury asks as he walks past, carrying a crate that easily weighs as much as the merman.

Glib gives him the signature unamused glare as he says, “No.”

Mercury places the crate in its place before sitting on it and looking over at Glib. “What’s wrong then?”

“I’m really fuckin’ hungry. I forgot to eat before getting on this stupid fucking’ ship,” he growls before wincing and saying, “No offense.”

Mercury chuckles, patting the crate. “Nontaken, but if you’re hungry I have rations.”

Glib shakes his head. “Can’t have normal food,” he dismisses quickly. “Vampire, remember?” He flashes his fangs to prove the point.

Mercury watches his fangs with apt interest. “Do you not have any rations?”

“Not unless you happen to carry blood,” Glib says irritatedly. He buries his face in his hands as he groans. He is the King of Hangry and desperately wants to be left alone.

Mercury is silent for a moment before saying, “You could drink from me.”

“What?” Glib’s head snaps up in shock, staring at the merman in disbelief. Surely, he didn’t just say that, surely he misheard.

“Unless you don’t like drinking from live sources,” the sailor backpedals quickly.

“No, I do,” Glib says slowly, confusion lacing every word, “But why are you offering.”

Mercury stands up, his wooden legs creaking as he does. “You are hungry, and you don’t have rations.” With every step, he is getting closer to Glib. “As your captain, it is my job to make sure you are provided for.” His voice is low as his hands trail up to the laces holding his shirt closed.

“You’ll lose a lot of blood,” Glib says quickly, eyes tied to the movement.

“I have healing potions.” He pulls the string out.

“It could kill you,” Glib says a little more desperately as his mouth waters.

The merman chuckles. “You won’t kill me.” His eyes are half-lidded as he looks down on Glib, completely confident in him.

“It’ll make you too dizzy to steer,” Glib says in a last-ditch effort to make Mercury come to his senses.

“Sky Skimmer’s a living ship, and besides-” he pulls his shirt to the side, revealing his suntanned, freckled shoulder. “I’ve always liked that feeling.”

Glib gulps, but his eyes do not leave the bare skin. “Are you sure?”

“Very.” Mercury leans closer until his shoulder is closer to Glib’s mouth. “Bite me, Glib.”

And Glib does. He drinks, savoring the delicious liquid before forcing himself back after a minute. He doesn’t want Mercury to drop.

“Done already?” Mercury groans as he pants lightly. At some point, he had leaned further forward and had grabbed ahold of the crate Glib was sitting on. His knuckles were white with how tightly he was grasping it.

“Don’t want to kill you,” Glib says through his fogged brain.

Mercury smiles. “Aw, that’s too bad. It was just starting to get fun.” He leans closer to Glib’s face and uses his thumb to wipe a bit of blood off of the frog’s lip. “But I need to get back to the stern.”

He steps back and walks to the door, straightening his shirt as he goes.

“Oh, and Glib?” He says over his shoulder as he stops in the doorway.

“Yeah?” the frog asks, still reeling from the entire experience.

“If you need a snack, you know where to find me.” Mercury smiles and winks before disappearing through the door, leaving Glib extremely confused and just a little hungry.

*

4) Canyon

In hindsight, going drinking with a man Canyon had never once seen drunk might have been a mistake. He had assumed that Mercury would have a high tolerance seeing as he’s a sailor, but he could not have been more wrong.

Here Mercury was, half draped across the cat man, drunkenly singing “What Can We Do With a Drunken Sailor” while petting the Tabaxi as the aforementioned cat man tries to get them both to Sky Skimmer.

“Way-hay and up she rises, Ear-lye in the morning!” he slurs, throwing his hands up in the air. “Put ‘em in bed with-” he trails off, trying to remember the lyrics.

“Captain’s daughter,” Canyon supplies.

Mercury laughs before shouting, “Tabaxi man!” He looks up at Canyon with a grin. “Put ‘em in bed with a tabaxi man! Put ‘em with a tabaxi man! Ear-lye in the morning!”

“Are you trying to get me into bed with you?” Canyon teases, readjusting his hold on the merman which just happens to drop his hand lower on Mercury’s waist.

Mercury laughs but does not answer as he sings the chorus, Canyon joining in after a minute. They cackle and carry on as they stumble down the street, Sky Skimmer in sight.

“What’s the next lyric, Merc?” Canyon asks once his laughter has died down.

The Captain thinks for a moment before grinning madly as he says, “Make him kiss the roguish man!” At first, Canyon thinks he’s misheard the Captain, but then he repeats it. “Make him kiss the roguish man!”

“Make him kiss the roguish man?” the cat asks without the song cadence.

“Ear-lye in the morning!” Mercury finishes while laughing. He sobers slightly as he asks, “What time you say it is?” He looks up at the dark sky.

Sky Skimmer spots them and she happily waves her sails before lowering a plank for them to walk up. Mercury mumbles a thanks as they step onto the deck.

Canyon glances up at the sky, trying to spot the moon as he navigates the drunk man to his quarters. “I don’t know, probably three or four in the morning?”

Mercury grins widely before pressing his face into Canyon’s cheek. “So it's ‘ear-lye in the morning’?”

“It is,” the tabaxi says slowly.

“And I’m a drunken sailor?” Mercury continues, leaning harder into Canyon,

“You are,” Canyon agrees with a smirk.

“Are you a roguish tabaxi man?”

Canyon snickers. “I am.”

“Then I demand a kiss ear-lye this morning,” Mercury declares, kissing Canyon’s cheek before stumbling backward, hand locked around the tabaxi’s wrist. “And for you to come to bed with me!”

“Mercury you’re drunk,” Canyon laughs, following behind him.

The merman nods. “I’m a drunken sailor!”

“And that’s why I can’t go to bed with you,” Canyon says digging his heels into the ground.

“Aww,” Mercury pouts at him.

Canyon chuckles. “If you remember any of this in the morning, I’ll be more than happy to take you up on your offer,” he says, running his claws through Mercury’s disheveled hair.

Mercury makes a pitiful noise before sighing dramatically. “Fine.”

Canyon steps back, flashing Mercury a smile. “Night, Merc, and good luck with your hangover!” he says as he walks off the ship. He faintly hears a slurred response followed by stumbling steps into the captain’s quarters. Canyon snickers to himself as he wanders back through the streets before he begins to hum “Drunken Sailor.”

*

5) All of them

“Mornin’ guys!” Mercury shouts from the helm as he steers Sky Skimmer to the edge of Symmetris Tower. The Party yells back varying responses before boarding. “Where to?”

“Wanuia, if ya believe!” Goodbid says far too chipperly for this early in the morning, as he boards the ship, the rest tiredly lumbering behind him.

Mercury turns the ship and sets her on a straight shot for his old city before walking down to talk with the party. “Wanuia, ‘ey? What business you got up there?” he asks.

“Rumors of some sort of powerful necromancers wandering the outskirts and tormenting people,” Glib explains, tugging his hood down over his eyes as Sky Skimmer emerges from clouds, the morning sun casting long shadows over the deck.

“Why send you guys and not Symmetris Agents?” the Captain asks.

“Prophis made us one of the highest-ranking Symmetris squadrons,” Canyon explains as he stretches, still trying to shake the sleep from his system, and smoothes down his hair which is sticking up oddly.

S.G. nods. “It was meant to be an honor but all it's done is mean that we can’t commit crimes and have to work for the government,” they gripe.

“But it pays handsomely,” Goodbid says with a grin.

“It does pay nice, yes,” S.G. agrees. “But I would like to steal again.”

“Why don’t you quit?” Mercury asks, tilting his head to the side like a dog.

The changeling makes a sour face while the boys snicker. “Callisto said if I quit to commit crimes he will arrest me on sight.”

There is a beat of silence before the merman belly laughs. “Of course he did, why wouldn’t he?”

“Yes, it was quite rude of him,” S.G. grumbles.

“Alright, well,” Mercury begins as he tries to regain composure. “How long do I need to wait on you guys? Do I have time to run a delivery from Abellio to Riftreach and back to Wanuia or will you be done by that point?”

“We’ll be done by then,” Glib answers.

“Yeah, they seem like normal necromancers,” Canyon adds once he doesn’t look like a toddler’s stuffed animal. “Won’t take us more than like two, three hours.”

“So we’ll the rest of the day to kick it at the beautiful Wanuaian beaches!” Goodbid says, pantomiming lounging on a beach.

“You’ll be at the beaches, I’ll be hiding somewhere dark,” Glib gripes.

Mercury shakes his head. “There are beaches that are hidden in alcoves. They are warmed by the mornin’ sun, but by noon the sun is off of them! The water is clear, the sand is warm, but the sun is gone,” the Merman says, gesturing wildly with his hands.

“Really?” Glib questions, clearly trying to keep the hopeful tone from his voice.

“Absolutely! They were my favorite growin’ up because no one else likes them. Most people go to Wanuia to sun tan, but those hidden beaches are nice,” Mercury says with a charismatic grin.

“We’ll have to find somewhere that sells swimsuits first,” Canyon points out. “The only one here who might have one is Goodbid.”

“Would ya believe I actually don’t?” Goodbid asks.

“No, I don’t,” the tabaxi counters sarcastically.

Mercury makes a confused expression. “Why would you need a swimsuit?”

“Because we’ll be swimming?” Canyon answers.

“Yeah, not all of us are merfolk,” Goodbid teases.

“I could be,” S.G. says cockily.

Glib gives them a tired expression. “We know, S.G.”

“I can be anything I want.”

“We know S.G.”

“I know you aren’t merfolk,” Mercury says, drawing attention back to the original point. “But why would you need swimsuits?”

The group glances at each other.

“Because that’s what you wear when you are swimming?” Glib says, confusion lacing his words.

“Yeah, but it’ll just be the five of us,” Mercury still not understanding.

“The five of us swimmin’,” Goodbid emphasizes.

“Yeah, but if it's just us, why not just skinny dip?” Mercury finally spits out, eyebrow raised.

“Skinny dip?!” Goodbid yelps as Glib says, “Excuse me?!” and S.G. squeaks, “What?!” There’s a beat of silence before Canyon starts laughing.

“Yeah, guys, let’s just skinny dip!” he says, nudging Mercury with his elbow.

Mercury smiles at him. “See, he gets it.”

“Mercury, I love ya, man, but I ain’t skinny dippin’,” Goodbid says quickly before Canyon can dig their graves anymore.

“Why not? I’m sure it’d be fine,” the merman says. “Besides, you’ll be seeing all of me, only fair if I see all of you.” He pauses before grinning as he adds lowly, “It's more fun that way.”

S.G. chokes on air, Goodbid flushes to the tips of his ears, and Glib’s jaw drops, but Canyon just nods slowly.

“Maybe next time, dude,” Canyon says. “Gotta give them time to prepare.”

“So you’ll be skinny dipping with me then?” the merman asks hopefully.

The others yell varying rejections over the sound of Canyon’s laughter. None of them notice Mercury’s confused face.

*

+1

Mercury really didn’t see anything wrong when the group suddenly has a fifth member. He finds it a little odd that it is a shadar-kai who looks older than dirt with no eyes, but his friends are an odd group so he just waves it off and welcomes the old man aboard the ship.

“Alright, crew!” He calls to the deck as he pulls Sky Skimmer away from Bowenburg. “Where to?”

“Riftreach!” Glib yells as Goodbid calls up, “Home!”

Mercury laughs. “Homeward bound!” He steers the ship for a moment, making sure they were on a straight enough shot before looking back over the deck and noticing how ill the old man looks. He slows the ship to a more reasonable speed and the shadar-kai relaxes slightly.

Canyon bounds up behind him, putting his hand on the merman’s waist and sliding up close to him. “Why the speed drop?” he asks as he examines the air around them.

“You’re friend down there-”

“Friend is a strong word,” Canyon gripes.

“You’re friend down there,” Mercury continues with a smile, leaning into the tabaxi. “Doesn’t look too good, I’m slowing it down so he doesn’t get sick on my deck.”

Canyon flexes his claws, not biting into the scales of his hips, but grazing his nails across them. “I think you are too nice to him.”

“No, I’m just looking out for my ship,” he remarks, gingerly placing his hands near the collar of the cat’s shirt. He fixes the fabric, smoothing out the wrinkles before stepping back.

The rest of the party stands in the middle of the open deck. The captain gives them all a quick once over but his gaze lingers on Goodbid, or rather his shirt.

“I told you, you like nice in my clothes,” Mercury teases as he and Canyon reenter the group.

“Huh?” Glib questions, looking between them, trying to decipher whatever coded language they are using.

“That-” Mercury points to Goodbid’s chest. “Is my shirt. I’m just glad he still likes it.”

S.G. huffs. “Goodbid gets your shirt and I don’t?” they ask in a mock hurt tone.

Mercury chortles. “You can go into my trunk and get any of my shirts you like,” he says gesturing to the captain’s quarters.

“Really?” S.G. asks, trying, and failing, to hide their excitement.

“Of course,” he nods. “I think all of you would look nice in my clothes. They’d be baggy and practically fall off of you.”

The old man laughs, drawing Mercury’s attention for the first time.

Mercury turns to look at him before extending his hand with a good-natured smile. “I don’t believe we’ve met! I’m Captain Mercury.”

The shadar-kai shakes his hand a little too vigorously. “King Skeezvol Skracks XIX, it’s a pleasure to meet a new subject of mine.”

“It’s nice to meet you, your majesty?” Mercury says slowly looking to the others for guidance.

“Don’t mind the old man, he’s going senile,” Canyon butts in.

“I’m not senile! If I was senile I would’ve missed your flirting!” Skeezvol snaps.

The group snickers or ducks their heads, but Mercury cocks an eyebrow. “Flirting?”

“I may be a blind old man, but I’m not deaf! I know flirting when I hear it!” he continues.

The merman looks at the others, his face pinched in confusion. “What is he going on about?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, Cassanova fish man!” the old man exclaims.

“Cassanova fish man?” Mercury echoes, confusion lacing his words.

“Yeah, really, Tails, it’s fine,” Glib agrees to which the old man looks mildly irritated about for reasons that the Captain can’t even begin to fathom.

The merman snickers. “Me? A casanova?” He shakes his head. “I’m an awful flirt.”

Energy of the others around him noticeably changes.

He looks at them and they all look to be in varying states of denial or confusion. “What?” he questions.

“Mercury,” Goodbid says slowly.

“What?” he questions again.

Canyon gives him a hard look. “Are you dumb or screwing with us?”

“Screwing with you?” he parrots. “No, I’m not ‘screwing with you,’ I have no idea what’s going on.”

They look at each other, seeming to have a mental conversation before Goodbid sighs and goes, “Mercury, you’ve been flirtin’ with us since you met us.”

The captain gives them a blank expression. “No, I haven’t?”

“Yes, you have,” S.G. says.

“And for once, they aren’t gaslighting you,” Glib tacks on.

He shakes his head. “Wouldn’t I know if I was flirting with someone?” he questions.

Canyon snickers. “We thought you were doing it on purpose.”

“How?” Mercury asks, exasperated.

“When I came back after being sick, you said I must be using magic to make myself so pretty,” S.G. reminds.

“But you are very pretty!” Mercury defends. “I wasn’t flirting, I was telling the truth.”

“And you saying that you want to see us in your clothes?” Goodbid questions.

Mercury makes a semi-embarrassed noise. “Right, now, I see how that’s weird, but I just like baggy clothing.”

“What about letting me drink from you?” Glib says unamused, clearly still thinking that he is messing with them.

Mercury shrugs. “You looked miserable and I didn’t have any rations for you. It was the next best thing.”

Canyon cuts the middle man entirely, side-stepping closer to the fish man and putting a hand on his waist, pulling him into his personal space. Mercury instantly leans into the hold to which Canyon grins. “Do you even remember what you said while you were drunk?”

“No?”

The tabaxi snickers. “You basically invited me to stay the night.”

Mercury blushes to the tips of his ears. “I don’t remember doing that.”

Canyon maneuvers them slightly until their chests are pressed together. “Mmhmm,” he hums, flexing his claws slightly. Mercury reaches up and fixes the collar of his shirt before letting his hands linger again to which the cat snickers. “And what do you call this?”

Mercury looks at him oddly before seeming to understand the position that he found himself in. He turns bright red and steps back muttering, “Your collar was laying weirdly.”

“And you’re telling me that you didn’t do that on purpose?” Canyon teases, letting him go.

“No!”

The group looks at each other, having another mental conversation before they begin to grin.

“What? Mercury asks, sensing a trap.

They don’t respond as they just move around him.

“What are you doing?” He questions, trying to step back, but ends up backing into Canyon. “Guys?”

Suddenly there are hands on him, around his waist, his arms, and his shoulders, and then there are kisses. Canyon is covering his neck in kisses, Goodbid has his right cheek, S.G. has his left, and Glib is littering his wrists with soft kisses.

When they pull back, Mercury’s jaw is dropped and he sputters. There’s a moment's pause before a little bit of blood dribbles from his nose.

“You alright, Lover boy?” Skeezvol asks between his wheezing laughs.

“Yeah- I’m- uh huh,” he spits out before stumbling backward, wiping the blood on the back of his hand. “I’m gonna- yeah, I’m- I’m going to steer the- Sky Skimmer. Steer Sky Skimmer.” He pauses, still wide-eyed and bright red. “Yep.” He scurries up the stairs and holds onto her spokes for dear life as a chorus of laughs follows him up.

[lightvsdark18]

Voicelines responses (Ace)

Ha ha, there it is. I thought I'd never be into your type, but maybe I was wrong? ...Or not!

What the fuck are you saying about?

School Uniform

There's never a boring day with you around. I swear trouble follows you everywhere.

Yeah, it's true you and Grim follow me everywhere.

It's nice that our dorm color and my favorite color are one and the same. Red's all in-your-face and classy, which is perfect for me, don't you think?

Yeah, cause you're always in everyone's faces. I'm joking, Ace.

P.E. Uniform

You might not've guessed it, but I'm pretty competitive. Wanna join me for some special training?

No.

It's not good to sit still all the time, y'know?

Do I look like I care?

Hey, PE's about to begin. I'm gonna leave you behind if you dawdle.

Then go without me.

Have you eaten yet? If not, let's go grab something. It gets old being cooped up all the time, right?

You get used to it.

Labwear

It's important to help each other out, y'know. That's why I'm leaving this assignment to you!

Ace, get back here and do your work!

There's nothing wrong with cutting a few corners here and there. As long as you don't get found out, that is.

Ace, do your work correctly.

What, you got a question? Fine, but you owe me one.

Then never mind. Deuce! You have a minute?

You never know when or where the headmage's gonna pop up. Yesterday, I glanced back to find him suddenly sitting behind me. I almost jumped outta my skin.

My first morning here, I woke up with him in my room.

Ceremonial Robes

What kinda celebrations do they have back where you're from? Do they host unbirthday parties and stuff?

Unbirthday parties isn't a thing in my world. And celebrations don't feel like celebrations. (Goes on an explanation)

Tadaaa! I can produce a hedgehog from my hood! Or...not. I guess magic tricks that use live animals are extra hard.

Wait, where's the actual hedgehog?

Don't you think this school is in dire need of more fun? There aren't any places to relax! Where are the cafés? The concerts?!

It's a school, they're not allowed have fun.

Dorm Uniform

Hey, Prefect, help me take care of the hedgehogs we use for croquet.

Only if I'm allowed to pet the hedgehogs.

How d'you like my dorm uniform? Pretty sweet, right?

Eh.

We freshmen are four to a room. It's cramped, but there's never a dull moment. You should come hang out with us sometime.

I don't want to be around smelly boys. Ace, I'm joking.

Shame you didn't get in Heartslabyul, too. It's kind of a thrill never knowing when it might be "off with your head."

Hmm, if we're taking this seriously, it's probably a good thing I wasn't placed in your dorm... I don't want talk about it.

Suitor Suit

I'll make you happy for as long as you live... There, how's that?

Hm, feels a bit flat.

Check THIS out. I've got "perfect prince" written all over me, right?

Sorry, I thought you were Cater for a second because of that hairstyle. But it doesn't look bad on you though.

Just so we're clear, this is a PRACTICE proposal. It's not the real deal, got it?!

The fact you have to state that makes it seem like it's not.

People give roses to their crushes in manga and TV shows, right? Sounds super embarrassing to me.

I think it's sweet, but I can imagine the anxiousness on trying to give them the roses.

Dealing with ghosts sure isn't easy, huh? Now I feel kinda bad you have to live with 'em.

Eh, they're not that bad.

I don't get romance, but the important thing's finding someone who's fun to be with, right?

Yeah. However, romance is something nice to have and do with your partner like going out to a nice restaurant together or spending time in a place you both enjoy. You'll understand when you find someone, unless you're aromantic.

I'm not thinking about romance right now. I'm busy enough looking after you all.

You mean too busy being annoying? Heh, I kid.

I'm definitely the type to get married later in life.

Like everyone else.

Halloween

The graveyard's our turf. We'll make anyone who wanders in one of us, no exceptions.

(Low energy) Cool.

Could you tell which jack-o'-lantern was mine? I'll give you a hint: it had a real goofy face.

So, the one that looks like you, got it.

You might wanna stay inside. It's pretty creepy out there tonight. You never know who might come crawlin' outta their grave.

You're saying that to a horror fan. If anything crawls out of a grave, I'll just put them back in the ground.

Okay, I've gotta warn you— don't look up at the ceiling 'til I tell you.

*Looks up at ceiling*

You're not actually trying to play a trick on me, are you?

If you count silly string as a trick, then yes, I'm playing a trick on you.

[miraculouscontent]

(non-Miraculous asks)

Anonymous said:

Ok this may just be me but I hate deconstructions. I feel like they are always mean spirited and try to be dark and edgy and thinks that every single person is an asshole because that’s “realistic” when no it’s not. This maybe because I like superhero stories and love it when the heroes overcome their struggles.

I can agree for the most part. Whenever I hear “okay but what if it was dArK--” I’m just okay, gonna stop you right there.

Anonymous said:

I swear, nothing bothers me more than people who want Miraculous Ladybug to literally just be Yandere Simulator(with Marinette as Ayano, Alya as Info-chan, Adrien as Taro, Chloe as Osana, Lila as Kizana, Kagami as Megami, and Luka as Budo). It just grinds my gears, especially because they're, once again, framing Marinette as a stalker, which just makes her look bad, AND pits all the girls against each other for Mr. Generic Harem Protagonist, once a-fucking-gain. Just go play the actual game, ok?

All I'm hearing is that now I have to ship Ayano and Budo and write a fic where the ghost girl uses fancy fantasy magic to merge her soul with Ayano and lets her actually have emotions, healing her from being a yandere while the ghost girl (in a way) gets to live a life she was cut short of, also allowing Ayano to be happy and go onto be friends with all the rivals.

Extremely convoluted but that’s the only way we get happy endings in this house.

Anonymous said:

I remember how, when writing Sailor Moon, Naoko Takeuchi refused to bow to older male writers wanted, say, for the girls to be stereotypical manga characters, with one being overweight, one being a stereotypical nerd, etc. But Naoko wanted each of the girls to be beautiful and feminine. While I don't like that they all share a body type, I admire how she didn't listen to grown men when writing for and about young girls. And I can't help but think about how Madoka is the antithesis of all that.

I can appreciate writers who put their foot down to stick to their values. There are limits of course, but yeah, a women writing women probably shouldn’t be listening to a man’s input. I’m sure good advice exists buuut...

Anonymous said:

What is your ranking of the seasons of the year from most to least favorite and why?

Summer - I work best in the warmth

Spring - Always brings images of flowers blooming to mind

Autumn - Things are getting cold and I don’t like it

Winter - It can go choke for all I care

Anonymous asked:

Someone on TV Tropes actually said that the name Feminist Fantasy should be changed because "feminism excludes men the same way meninism excludes women" and actually had the nerve to link that to the "Not So Different" trope, as if women haven't been excluded throughout the history of almost every human society. Fortunately, someone responded to them in a way that technically amounted to "do your damn research" but I'm still facepalming so hard at TV Tropes' "what about the men" rhetoric.

I feel like I lost braincells reading this.

Anonymous asked:

I feel like in fiction written by men there are only three flaws that female protagonists are allowed to have: clumsy, boy-crazy, or ashamed of their flat chests. I hate it.

Don’t forget, “having to listen to the men for how they’re supposed to feel.”

Anonymous asked:

Jatp. Nominated. For. Seven. Emmys. SEVEN!!!! Miraculous could NEVER. Literally.

omg!! Congrats to Julie and the Phantoms!

Anonymous asked:

WHAT ARE YOUR FLASHBACKS TO EVER AFTER HIGH?? I GOTTA KNOW? OMG?

Oh, I’ve seen basically the whole series, though the one I remember most is definitely Epic Winter. It was my favorite one though Beauty and the Beast is my favorite Disney movie so I’m biased.

I also like a lot of the “twists” and just--crazy concepts they rolled with, like with Red Riding Hood’s story and how Apple White gets woken up from her slumber.

Anonymous asked:

You're gonna be happy to hear this...I just started watching Cardcaptor Sakura today, and holy shit not only do I love it, but I also love how freaking META it is! I know you said you're not all that knowledgeable about Magical Girl, but this show is AWARE that it's a Magical Girl show! From Tomoyo(the main reason this show is so meta, tbh) realizing Sakura is a Magical Girl and asking if she has a transformation pose, to designing outfits for her(more on that later) to videotaping her(aka literally making a Magical Girl anime out of her Magical Girl friend), it just has fun with itself and plays with Magical Girl tropes without making a mockery of them like all those "dark" male-aimed ones do(lookin' at you, Madoka Magica and Yuki Yuna!).

And not only is it hilarious and adorable(especially with Sakura's crush on Yukito, Tomoyo's crush on Sakura, and Touya picking on Sakura, but playfully), but I love how it's riddled with girl power. While watching some of the first episodes I was looking forward to seeing Syaoran(partly because I love male Tsunderes and partly because I can't pronounce his name), and was surprised that he wasn't in the first few episodes, but more importantly I was so happy to see a show that treats its female characters with respect and shows women unironically receiving support from other women and being shown possessing power and authority.

I love Sakura and Tomoyo's friendship even if I hate the trope of "Lesbian Never Gets The Girl"(not that I think she's entitled to Sakura's affections or anything, but still.) and watching her support Sakura in her magic endeavors without being jealous or vindictive, I love that they're allowed to be independent and smart but that the show doesn't forget that they're kids, instead of making them like Manon and Chris, and I love that the show passes the Bechdel test in pretty much the first or second episode, and that pretty much every important and unimportant character we meet that's not Sakura's family members, Kero, or Yukito(plus maaaayyybe the Shadow Clow Card) are female.

Even little things, like all FOUR of Tomoyo's bodyguards in the second episode being female without there being a "reason" or the show making a big deal of it(either in a "yay girl power!" way or a "what but women can't x" way or an objectifying way) fills me with insurmountable joy. Also, I love that the show follows the Magical Girl trend of pretty much admitting that femininity is power, since frilly dresses are stated to be the most "fitting" thing for a Cardcaptor to wear, as without it, they might not be mentally up to the task, and this is an unironic truth rather than a joke(although Sakura is shown to be embarrassed, but it's much more likely that she's simply not used to that kind of gear due to not being rich as Tomoyo is.) or a gag.

I just thought I should tell you this because I know you like Cardcaptor Sakura, and with the crappy episodes that just came out of this show, I think you deserve to read an ask that's about a GENUINE girl power Magical Girl show, instead of yet more Miraculous Ladybug salt or Madoka Magica hate(not that there's anything wrong with either of those two, but it just gets grating after a while.). Overall, I'm looking forward to watching this show, since I've been looking for a Magical Girl show to watch nowadays(I've been meaning to watch Star Twinkle Precure but I can't find the third episode and all of Cardcaptor Sakura is on YouTube now, so.). So excited!

Hey, I’m glad that you’re having fun with it!

Though, just a warning, you might wanna steer clear of the Clear Card arc. It’s a sequel to the original series made waaaay after the original (think the equivalent of Yashahime for Inuyasha, though continuing with the original characters) but omg I hated it.

Anonymous asked:

With the crappy Season 4 episodes that just came out I'm glad I got into Cardcaptor Sakura when I did. Who needs "Marinette needs to make a mistake every episode and learn something from it" when you can have genuine girl power and sweetness incarnate?

Alya could never compete with Tomoyo, I’m just sayin’.

Anonymous asked:

Your comment about white men feeling "disenfranchised" because more shows are about black people and/or women(I say and/or because the two aren't mutually exclusive.), as if there aren't a million other things they could be watching instead is so true! It reminds me of how I was talking to someone recently about the new generation of MLP, in which I stated that we didn't need a male mane pony(spoiler alert: they have one, sadly.), and he claimed that it would be beneficial since many shows aimed at boys at least try to include at least one main girl, and that it would be good for G5 of MLP to have at least one strong male lead so that boys could have a role model and know that the show isn't "girly".

Okay, so far, so good, but this I could chalk up to just unconscious internalized misogyny, especially since he didn't say it in any sort of "way". So I respectfully told him that the scale regarding representation is already not equal and that boys can look up to girls and that a show being girly is not a bad thing and all that stuff that you already know about. Then he responded claiming some stuff about how he keeps trying to pitch stories about straight white male characters and how nobody is accepting his offers and so this means that straight white men are underrepresented compared to everyone else. He even explicitly said, and I quote "White people are actually critically underrepresented in media right now. Especially boys."; I swear to the Goddess above.

At this point I was officially upset as a black girl, to hear this white(and presumably adult) man telling me that he was underrepresented in media compared to me, even saying that the media execs are practicing "quotas and tokenization"(and yes, he repeatedly used those terms for any instance of representation, even when I asked him politely to stop.) by replacing women with men or white people with pocs and are making white men look like incompetent doofuses.

He also kept saying stuff about how shows are always shoehorning people of color in where they don't belong by casting them in settings such as Shakespeare and medieval times when "realistically" there were no people of color during those time periods(which is obviously not true, it's just not what the history books show us.), and made a really insensitive comment about how black children in the USA today don't know the significance of having the first black president because the media supposedly already shows them black people in various professions(despite also claiming he couldn't speak to the "black experience" and yet here he is whitesplaining that shit.).

It got to the point where he was seriously and unironically using the word "blackwashing". When I pointed out to him that white men aren't underrepresented and that it's just his self-centered ego telling him that they are, that the word "blackwashing" isn't a thing, and that mis/underrepresentation in media DOES affect black kids negatively(even citing myself as an example) he went on to claim that I was being tone-deaf and that "blackwashing" is just as bad as whitewashing, and that making Ariel black is just as bad as making Jasmine white.

At this point I had to bang my head on the table and explain to him the difference; his ass still wouldn't get it. Eventually he started saying some really skeevy and hypocritical shite that white men say all the time when whining about how "oppressed and underrepresented" they are: that black people and/or women

(it looks like there might be an ask missing here, in which case, sorry if Tubmlr ate it!)

avor of supporting the commonly believed LIE that "women and/or minority groups don't have as much history worth learning about, so there's no point in focusing on them." He also kept using patronizing, condescending, mansplaining language such as "let me explain it to you" or "you still don't get it do you?", and when he said women had nothing to contribute to society because "oppression" he even had the nerve to tack on "welcome to the unequal society" as if I hadn't been lecturing him about just that.

Because obviously only white men did anything worthwhile or important in history. At this point, I had to block him. I couldn't take it anymore and this was on an MLP site of all places(although I'm probably just as guilty of that part, but at least I wasn't an ass!). I just can't stand white men who "want to be oppressed so bad" but still want to claim that their achievements are more important and deserve to be more prominent. Honestly, so many white men are so fragile the second they're not in the spotlight. I can't help but think that despite all the privilege afforded to their class being a white man sounds like the worst thing ever.

“he claimed that it would be beneficial since many shows aimed at boys at least try to include at least one main girl, and that it would be good for G5 of MLP to have at least one strong male lead so that boys could have a role model and know that the show isn't "girly". “

I might be looking too deep into that but I don’t like the idea of, “Well WE squeezed in a girl and therefore YOUR SHOWS--” like it’s some sort of matter of “fairness” or that boys’ shows aren’t putting in girls out of a genuine like for them but because they “need” one or it’s some sort of obligation.

Also, we need to stop this idea that boys can’t look up to female characters and vice versa for girls. You already said it but yeah.

And yeah, I hear "quotas and tokenization" and I officially tune out of whatever the person is saying, lol. White men are critically underrepresented???? Newsflash, maybe it’s just because others are being represented more??

Just the whole thing about whites being “underrepresented” boggles my mind. White people don’t have some sort of special ability or skill that other races can’t do themselves unless you count the “superpower” of white privilege.

Like, oh my god, all that “whitesplaining” and having to read the word “blackwashing” was physically painful. I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. I don’t know how they got hold of the technology to communicate with you from whatever time period their from, presumably the Stone Age.

Don’t even blame you for blocking them. There’s just a level of absolute... blindness? Arrogance??? That comes with the territory with them sometimes, I swear. You had every right to be upset; other races come to ask for equality and fair representation and suddenly you have these white men (not all obviously but damn) coming by and crying that they’re being oPpReSsEd. U_U

Like, honestly, my father in particular is absolutely that kind of person so I’ve heard that kind of stuff before. it’s all gross.

On a slightly unrelated note (trying to end this with some positivity), I hadn’t even heard about a fifth generation of MLP until I read this, and just wanted to let you know that I really hope you have a really good time with it! Hopefully the male character isn’t... well, you know.

[pyraffin-drgo]

All Heavy interactions in Poker Night at the Inventory.

For you to interpret however you wish.

Video Version

(They have [bootleg movies] in your country?) "I like movies, yes." (Yeah, like what? [Lists movies]?) "No. My favorite are The Dirty Dozen and the first twenty minutes of Rocky four."

(We can talk Tetris?) "Hmmph. Tetris is baby game." (Tetris Attack keeps it hood!) "Why does everybody think I love this Tetris? It is just stacking!"

"[To Strongbad] Tiny Heavy." (What is it?) "Do you get the nightmares?" (I get the jibblie nightmares. [Describes silly nightmare, shivers].) "I am talking about the visions of endless suffering. Dead doctors everywhere. Spy can not be found. (No, but that sounds like the Jibblies.) "I do not like these 'jibblies.'"

"Strong and bad. How is boxing career?" (These. Are. My. HANDS!) "I was boxer, once. In school. We have to either box or learn to herd goats." Silence, looking concerned. "I am not good with goats..." (Too much information, man.) "At first, I do not like punching other boys... But then I learn to love it." Punches his palm menacingly.

(Find any rare drops lately?) "I do not understand." (When you get a kill, you get a present?) "When I get kill, I get honor of team." Smile drops. "Sometimes... I also get nightmares. A man does not go home to his wife and children." (So, no loot?) "Oh! You mean hat! Yes, I love hats! Sometimes, I get these. They are the best."

(Hey, Heavy. You know any hot Russian spies?) "I hate spies." (But you gotta have the inside line on some deadly minxes.) "You want hot spy?" (Am I not wrestle man?) "I have friend who gets you a hot spy. (Get em on the two-way, man!) "His name is Pyro." (Tycho, to Strongbad: The spy is hot because it is on fire.) (Oh...)

"[To Tycho] What do you do with life?" (Me?) "Yes. What is possible with tiny, frail body?" (I occupy myself with simulations... of various kinds.) "What is these?" (Struggles to explain.) (Strongbad: He lives in his parent's basement.)

(So, is there a Mrs. Weapons Guy?) "No. Sasha is my only love." (Sasha kills people, I presume?) "No." (Oh?) "WE kill people."

"[To Strongbad] Maybe you and I box?" (I can't risk my beautiful face, it's the franchise.) "We spar. For fun." (I don't think so.)

"Strong and bad. You wrestle? With mask?" (No, I'm a wrestle man, not those hack wrestle-LERS.) "Not like Iron Sheik?" (No, Iron Stake is a LER.) Heavy nods. "Hmm. This is too bad."

(So how long you been with those Team Fortress fellas?) "I do not understand." (The game's been on Steam for like 3 years. I imagine there was some audition process?) "Ohhh! Yes, I understand! I kill many men VERY quickly." (Excuse me?) "I kill record number of soldiers, and I am commissioned to join RED team."

(Mr. Weapons. I am in the market for a new firearm. [Specifications].) "Hmm, for you I do not recommend minigun then. You know, there is this fast baby man that annoys me greatly with shotgun." (Oh! Oh! What are the available options? I'll spring for leather!) "Da, this is good for you. I suggest Force-A-Nature." (I'll tell them [shop owner] Heavy Weapons Guy sent me.) "It is no need. I know guy."

"I will make hat from you, little bunny." No reply from anyone. A reference for the player to the Max hat in TF2.

"You look familiar, bunny." (How closely do you follow the Manhattan Crime Blotter?) Also a reference to the hat, Tycho then takes over conversation.

(If I need someone snuffed out, what's your going rate?) "Five hundred thousand U.S. dollars." (Steep.) "Cash." (You can do it discreetly?) "Sasha... not so discreet." (That's fine.)

(How did you guys hear of the inventory?) "My engineering friend brought me one night."

(This reminds me of the time Artie Flopshark rigged an entire poker tournament to pay off his loan shark.) "I know of this. This is respectable profession in motherland." Conversation is stolen by Tycho.

(This reminds me of [story]!) "I am reminded of time Engineer kill my entire team." (Damn Heavy, that's... heavy. Sorry to hear that.) "I search entire base for him. He tries to kill me with turret and mini turret, but I crush his toys like they are made of paper." (Sounds like crappy toys.) "Then I find him. Hiding by teleporter. I take his gun away from him. He tries to hit me with wrench! Hahohoh! So I take wrench away from him. I take his wrench and shove it down his throat, all the way down to the handle." (Christ!) Heavy laughs. "Then I rip off all his fingers one by one!" He talks while laughing. "Lets see you build toys now!" He breaks out in laughter. "There's blood- everywhere! And- he's crying!" More laughter. "I think he cries out for mother, but- but-" Crumples over laughing. "The wrench is stuck in his throat! And it sounds like-" Makes choking motions and noises then laughs. "Is this not the funniest thing??" (Horrified looks) (Head shakes slowly.) (That's some bleeped up bleep, man!)

(How about you, Heavy weapons? I'm guessing you're a vodka guy?) "Peach Bellini. But bubbles can give me headache."

(Mr. Weapons, how do you like your line of work?) "It is good. There are many benefits." (Oh! Like a free pass to snuff out bad guys or a waffle bar?) "Both. And full dental."

(I wonder if this dump is haunted.) (I hope so! Roughing up who can't die is fun!) "...I do not like ghosts..." (It's okay, Mr. Weapons. I have [extensive experience]. I can handle a few ghosts.) "...You will take care of ghosts for me?" (You bet cha!) Heavy nods at him. "I like you, tiny rabbit."

[Story including a union] "I am union. RED local six fifteen." (You guys unionized?) "Eh. It was necessity for group medical."

"Tycho. This sweater, is special equipment?" (No, standard issue.) "You have no class specific head gear?" (Got a motorcycle helmet that protects from 100% of UV rays.) "This sounds beneficial."

(Why do you keep calling me 'Tiny Heavy'?) "You are Heavy. Tiny. No? You are RED team. You have killing gloves of boxing. You earn these for being great killer! You should try out for RED team." (Hmm. Guess I could join your team of ruthless killers and lame hat wearers and watch you get grenaded by 8 year olds.) "You will take many bullets before dying I think."

(Hey, Heavy. I just finished [Russian fantasy book]. Ever read it?) "No." (Oh. What's your favorite book?) "I prefer war." (Ah, War and Peace. Tasteful.) "No. Just war." (Art of War?) "Nyet." Silence. "I like 'Tsar Hunger' by Leonid Andreyev. You know this?" (...No.) "Is classic."

"You have hands like young girl." (I keep them shits moist.) "...So you are more of sneaky, stabbing type?" (In an extreme circumstance, I guess.) Heavy looks at him suspiciously. "I keep my eyes on you." (No, no no- I wasn't implying that-) Heavy looking at him angierly. (Shit.)

(Ever listen to music while you work?) "Yes! I just buy new walkman." (What gets you in the killing mood? Icelandic death metal?) "I just get Huey Lewis tape. Keeps spirits up on battle field."

"[To Tycho] You have woman?" (Not with me) "She is pretty?" (Yeah, cute, glasses, red hair.) "She has the red hair??" (No, Heavy! She is not on the other team! Don't have to kill her!) "No. But I love the red hair!" (Well, you can't have her, either.) Re-used image of Heavy looking at him angrily. (Well, maybe we can work something out.)

(Hey, Heavyman. You think you can 'take care' of the King of Town for me?) "I can assassinate king, yes. It is expensive, though." (By take care of I meant sneak in and shave off half his mustache.) "I am not best at sneaking." (Confront him in a dark alley then?) "This is better. That way blood wash away in rain."

(You have any interest in moonlighting?) "WHAT? I am not moonlighter!" (Just a little work on the side with Sam and me beating up goons!) "Oh. I can not do this." (C'mon it's fun and free!) "No, I am sure it is." (Then what's the problem?) "I have non compete." (Ah, yeah. Lawyers.)

(All these aces reminds me of [weird dream]. You have any weird dreams, Mr. Weapons?) "I sometimes dream that I am killed. There is blood everywhere. (Tycho gives him a weird look) But then I wake up and I realize this is ridiculous! Nobody can kill Heavy weapons guy! (Riiiight...)

"[To his chips] This is good Solider. This one is good Doktor. You are demolition man."

"Saaaandvich, sandvich, I love you sandvich!" (Would you like someone to order you some food?)

"Blue man." (Tycho.) "Tycho. What college do you go to? You are educated, no?" (Actually, no.) "No?" (I studied at Gygax Polyhedral if you catch my drift.) "I do not. This is good school?" (Uh. The best.) "I went to Soviet College of Mines, Farms, and Science. I have PhD in Russian literature." (Do you.. use that in your work?) "More than you think."

"Tiny Heavy, who is your favorite to kill in war?" (Those discount three-pack green helmets.) "To kill spy is glorious thing! How about you, Max? You are killing type." (My favorite enemy? Like asking me to choose between my children!) Heavy laughs. "You crack me up, little bunny!"

(Hey, Hefty Bag, you ever play video games?) "Just one." (Oh yeah?) "It is called-" (Tycho: WoW?) "Nyet. That is not popular. It is called 'Where's an Egg'." (Strongbad: I love Where's an Egg!) "Where's an Egg is as big as Tetris in homeland."

(Concerning your firearm, whay caliber we talking?) "Big." (What, we talking 300 Weatherby Mag here?) "Bigger." (50 cal, whereabouts?) "Bigger than 50 caliber. They are hand made custom tool cartridges with classified diameter." (Why's that?) "So enemy canmot use ammunition. But Sasha can chew through theirs." (Diabolical!) "I think so." Nods.

(Alright, big pretend killer man. Tell me the most awesome story you have with plenty of senseless violence!) Heavy thinks. "When I was boy, I was at camp, being trained in many ways of combat." (Assassination camp for kids! This is gonna be good!) "There was sparrow sitting on fence. Snow falls quietly around me. Without notice, another boy jumps from behind tree and kills sparrow with throwing knife. The boy runs away." (And then??) "I pick up sparrow, and hear his last breath before digging him tiny grave..." (Tycho crying) (Max silent) (That's not even a little bit funny, man.) Heavy shakes his head solemnly. "No..." Sits back. "It's not."

(So, what do you do for fun?) "Clean Sasha. Use Sasha... Clean Sasha again." (Proper maintience is crucial.) "I also collect old coins." (A fellow numismatist!) "Which I melt down to make custom bullets." (Of course.)

"I am hungry for sandvich." (Then order a sandvich, man.) "Oh, I can not have sandvich! I become unstoppable killing machine!" (Yeah, maybe order a water.) "Is best."

"You wear blue sweater." (All the time.) "What are you?" (Haven't we went over this?) "You are not Scout. Maybe very tricky blue Spy? Maybe... new class?" (I can use a keyboard to sabotage your entire team, steal your intelligence, and have your sister delivered to my doorstep in one afternoon. Yes, I'm a new class.) Heavy, shocked, "This is true??"

(Hey, Heavyman, what's your living situ-aysh?) "I live in RED barraks. Is nice. There is foos table." (How about taking a room in the house of Strong?) "There is vacancy?" (First you'll have to dump the current person in your room.) "This is enemy?" (He won't put up much of a fight.)

Hope you enjoyed, spent most of the day copying all these down. The non-Heavy lines are paraphrased for shortness. Heavy's are full, how they are in game.

[yeojaa]

( GHOST IN MY BED. )

Sometimes, hating someone is the only thing you can do.

pairing.  jjk x named f!reader.  a bit of jhs x named f!reader (but not really)?

genre + rating.   rockstar!au.  e2l (exes n enemies!).  general flangst?  anguf?  a blend of angst and fluff, tbh.  mainly angst tho.

tags / warnings.  sibling dynamics, introspective sadness, talk about not-so-healthy relationships (obviously), dumbass!jk, asshole!jk, jealous!jk, how many more jk tags can i add?, a silly reference to scott pilgrim.  nothing serious. 

beta reader(s).  @hobi-gif​ aka the loml!!!

wc.  3.1k

chapter four.

You and Yoongi don’t fight.  It’s always been a point of pride - something to look at and smile on. 

That must be why it feels so terrible now, with his knuckles blown white and enough rage to start a war simmering within his veins.  You’ve never seen him like this:  a world away from your soft Yoon, your best friend, your beloved brother.

“Yoongi, really--” 

“No.  Stop saying that.”  Despite the fact that you know his anger isn’t directed at you - that you’re the farthest target in his mind - it still hurts, like getting caught in friendly fire.  Pinpricks of guilt spill across your skin, nerve endings shot to hell by the way his mouth curls and tears, venom laced between his teeth and draped across his tongue.  “He came here and you didn’t tell me?  I told you - I’ll kill him.”

Hyperbole, you’re sure, but you can’t help the way your heart stutters.  A little oh no for a boy who doesn’t deserve it - whose silhouette still carves a spectacularly painful hole in your chest.

“I didn’t want you to worry--”  It’s not an excuse.  It’s not meant to be.  You never lie to Yoongi.  Frankly, you don’t think you could.  

“You’re my sister.”

It’s enough of a rebuttal that you’re reduced to silence.  He’s right.  You’re family;  family don’t keep secrets.

“I’m sorry,”  you try again, feeble and emphatic.  

There’s an unbearable distance between you - a sea’s worth of sadness that rocks the rickety boat you’ve built.  You can practically see it stretching on and on, sweeping you further and further from his safe shores.  It’s an awful feeling. 

“You’re my sister,”  he repeats, suddenly so tired you worry for him.  For once, he looks that much older than you, as if five years have forced passages of experience within his pages.  “You can’t hide things from me.  Who’s going to be there for you if not me?”  

You want to rebuff him - insist that you’re stronger than he gives you credit for - but you know it’s not what he means.  More than anyone, Yoongi believes in you.  He sees your strength even when you can’t see your own;  he’s been that strength more times than you can count.  

The reality of your situation isn’t lost on you.

He’s the only one who knows everything you’ve been through.  A diary in living breathing form, full of your most shameless secrets, your deepest worries, your worst heartbreaks.  

“I know.”  Apology threads each syllable, stitches them neatly to each other.  The sincerity is blinding, bright white and earnest.  “I didn’t mean to make you worry.”  

The smile he offers is rueful, twisting the edge of his mouth in a manner you’ve adopted over the years.  You return it without thought and then, all at once, the expanse is closed.  He’s laughing - a sound that doesn’t ring true in the way you know it should - but it’s a laugh and you know everything is okay.

“Still worried,”  he returns with a quiet sigh and flick of his wrist.

You’re with him in a breath, curled against his side on the couch you’d cried yourself to sleep on just days ago.  While you’re both far closer in size than you’ve ever been - you were always a tiny kid growing up, even against Yoongi’s own slim frame - it’s reminiscent of your childhood and being caught beneath haphazardly strewn sheets and disorganised chaos in the form of blanket forts.

Dry lips find a home against the side of your head, his arm dragging you to warmth.  “You’re an idiot, you know.”  He says it in the way only an older brother can - with all the frustration and love in the world.  

You do know, intimately well, how idiotic you are.  Have been.  Seemingly always will be.

“I know,”  you mumble, sad into the raised hood of your sweater.  “But I made him leave.”  It sounds like a child begging for praise - to be told they’ve done well.  You won’t deny you need it now.  

Good is the first thing Yoongi says, a little flippant and with a hard set of his jaw.  More comes when he catches your expression and the way the dent forms between your brows, the tiny pout of your lips.  It’s the same face you’ve made all your life - one that hits him right behind the ribs like a Whack-A-Mole game at the carnival.

“You did good, Vivi.  I’m proud of you.”  They’re bandages, sticky and adhesive on the stitches Jungkook’s visit had torn open.  “You’re great and he’s…”  There are words he’d like to use - a million scathing adjectives to paint the asshole in technicolour - but he knows better.  Knows you can’t take it, at least not right now.  “He doesn’t deserve you.  You get that, right?  You’re better off without him.”

You nod against his side but offer nothing further.  The silence speaks worrying volumes.

“You’re not going to answer him again, right?”  

Some half-mumbled non-committal response comes.  Yoongi wants to tear his own hair out.  Better yet, he wants to tear yours out.  Instead, he blows a long exhale through his nose, free hand coming to scrub across his face.  When will you learn?  

“I’m scared.”

It’s so quiet even you hardly hear it, ear tucked against the cotton of Yoongi’s flannel.  You think, for a moment, maybe he’s missed it too.  Then he squeezes you a little tighter:  a silent reassurance.

“Seeing him again just brings back so many memories.”  Every other word is muffled but it’s the most you can do.  Courage is carried quietly - too loud and you’ll shatter it.  “I thought three years would be enough.  It should be, right?”

It’s a rhetorical question;  Yoongi still debates answering it, just for his own sake.

“Maybe he’s changed.  Or maybe I’ve changed.  It could be different.”  It’s a clandestine belief and one you shouldn’t speak to life - especially to your brother.  It spills forth of its own accord, wrong for so many reasons but begging to be asked.  You have no control over it and the hope it sows somewhere within your chest.

“You can’t actually believe that.”  

It’s infinitely more scathing than Hoseok’s reaction, tearing out of Yoongi’s mouth like a bullet.  You can’t help the way you frown, brows drawn and lips pursed.  You’ve known Yoongi your whole life.  Reading between the lines feels like you’re fucking stupid but you know it’s not quite so harsh.  A frustrated you dumb idiot, maybe.

“Don’t make that face.”  

“I’m not making any face.”  

“Yes, you are.  It’s the same one you made when I embarrassed you on your first date.  Also the one you made after you threw up all over Hoseok’s shoes the first night you met him.”  The recollection doesn’t help your cause - you’re grimacing even more deeply, chagrin spilling into misery in the form of red hot heat over your cheeks.  “Don’t resent me for being realistic, Vivi.  You know he hasn’t changed.”

The silence is childish.  You know that.

“You can’t fix people.”

He arrives with flowers.  Two full bunches of your favourite blooms - pretty peonies in shades of coral and lavender.  They’re heavy in his arms, held so gingerly it’s almost comical as he extracts himself from the vehicle he most definitely should not be driving.  He wonders whether you’ll be home - if he’ll get to see your expression when he presents them to you.  He hopes you’ll light up, brighter than the sun in the sky and better than any nightlight.  

What he doesn’t expect is someone walking up the sidewalk, gym bag slung across his shoulder like he’s getting ready to settle in for a long night.  Short - atleast a few inches shorter than himself - with a stupid face that makes Jungkook want to punch it.  Dumb shoes, too.  Who the fuck wears Off-White Jordan 1s in that colourway?

There’s a permanent scowl etched across his face as he watches from behind the tinted comfort of his car, single hand caught around the edge of the door.  He’s vaguely aware of the fact that he’s perhaps crushing the stems cradled in his arms, inked knuckles blown white around quickly crumpling brown paper.

Maybe he’s your neighbour.  Or maybe he’s going to the other house or maybe—

No, he’s definitely walking right up the front path.

The words are out before Jungkook can stop them, shouted into the quiet afternoon more loudly than he anticipates.  “Hey!”

Dumbass with the face turns, full of surprise and wandering eyes.  He hesitates halfway up your stoop, looking stupider than ever as he looks around for the source of the voice.  

Then his stare falls on the brunet with his hands full and it’s like a flip has switched - mouth hardening into a line that raises the hairs on the back of Jungkook’s neck.  He’s glaring at him (or something close to it).  

Seriously - who is this fucker?

“Can I help you?”  Hoseok speaks far more reasonably, at an octave that doesn’t shatter the peace of the residential neighbourhood.  He’s still caught on the steps, fist tight around the strap of his bag as he studies the man - no, boy - that jogs up to meet him, two rungs the only thing separating the two of them.

“Do you know Vira?”

A part of Hoseok flinches at Jungkook’s casual use of your name - like he knows you or deserves to address you like an old friend.  This kid really was clueless.

When he speaks, he’s perfectly composed, tension held tight behind his teeth.  “I said, can I help you?”

Jungkook bristles at the response, some snarky comment threatening to knock the other off his apparent high horse.  He barely catches it, grinding it down into a fine powder beneath his molars.  He has to tread lightly here. 

“I’m a friend of hers.”  Not a lie, per se.  You two were friends;  after all, you’d come when he’d called.  That meant something, right?  Had to. 

“A friend?”  Disbelief slips into place, evident in the tone of Hoseok’s voice, how his brows shift beneath his chestnut fringe.  He knows better than to believe Jungkook - has heard all the heartbreaking stories - but he can’t quite keep the worry from worming it’s way into his thoughts.  They settle uncomfortably, just beneath the surface. “Is she expecting you?”

Everything about Hoseok makes Jungkook hate him.  From the sneakers he wears to the watch on his wrist - understated, all gold, more expensive than a nerd like him should have - there’s something undoubtedly punchable about him.

It certainly has nothing to do with the fact that he’s seemingly close with you.  Definitely not.

“I was going to surprise her.”  The flowers are held aloft, gesticulated in the best manner Jungkook can manage with his arms so full.  “I didn’t know she was expecting you.”  It’s a cheap tactic - recycling words - but he can’t think of much else beyond fitting his foot into this guy’s mouth.

“She’s not.”  Sharp, sparse, with no hint of indulgence.  Hoseok’s not about to get into a verbal sparring match with Jungkook.  It’s not worth his time.  

He is, however, going to put him in his place - and easily at that.

“She’s still at work.”  Slim bundle of keys rise - two unassuming and one for an Audi.  Perhaps unnecessary but Hoseok takes great pleasure in the other’s expression.

Tch is Jungkook’s first thought before the second smacks him straight in the face.  He has a key to your place?  The fact rubs him all the wrong ways despite the fact that he has no right to be bothered;  it isn’t his home any more - hasn’t been in years.  It still hurts, though, right behind his ribs and all the way down to the tips of his fingers.

Is this how you felt all those times?  

Something like nausea builds in Jungkook’s stomach, throwing acid up the walls of his throat.  It burns and strings, licking painfully all the way into his mouth.  His teeth ache - buzz uncomfortably - and his tongue feels suddenly far too heavy.  He wonders if he might choke on it.

Then, slowly, in a voice he doesn’t recognise.  Too soft, years younger, uncertain.  “Can you give these to her?”  He hates it.

He hates even more the way Hosoek looks at him, with such pity Jungkook wants to curl it around his fist and break the older man’s teeth with it.  It’s something he’s seen a handful of times - from you, from your brother, from his worried mother when she thinks he doesn’t notice.  It never gets easier. 

It forces him into a position he hasn’t been in in years:  weak.

“I don’t think so.”  By how calmly Hoseok speaks, it’s almost as if he’s commenting on the weather or passing along a banal bit of information.  It’s far too nonchalant to be breaking Jungkook’s heart, splitting it cleanly in two.

“Why not?”  Jungkook’s petulant, a child denied his favourite toy, forced into time-out.  

That’s not for you screams Hoseok’s expression.  She’s not for you.  “I’m not comfortable with doing so.”  

The sinking feeling hasn’t stopped for Jungkook.  It goes and goes until he wishes he were six feet under, buried under ground as low as he feels.  He should leave.  He knows he should leave - if only to stop the discomfort that’s gripping every nerve, twisting them like an elbow about to snap.  

“Anyway.”  There’s boredom working its way into Hoseok’s stare, relaxing the shape of his mouth until it falls wide around a short, terse sigh.  “If you’re friends, you can get in touch and drop them off later.”  

He’s done playing gatekeeper - can feel his frustration bubbling to the surface in a way he’s not about to entertain.  He nods once, dismissive, before turning away from the so-called rockstar that seems terribly small and the farthest thing from it.

“Goodbye.”  Then he’s disappearing into your home, leaving Jungkook on the steps with his tail between his legs.

You return home three hours later - blissfully unaware of what’s transpired.  

You set your dinner on the kitchen island, deftly unpacking takeout boxes as Hoseok hurries to your side to help.  You don’t mind when he bumps into you, knocking his hip against yours with a heart-shaped smile.

It burns a little brighter than usual.  “Good day?”  

He hums in response, sneaking a yellow tomato from the salad box he’s just popped open.  “Something like that.” 

“Something like that?”  You can’t help but echo him, a pretty parrot with shining eyes and a silk bow in your hair.  “Don’t play coy, Jung Hoseok.”  A digit closes the minimal distance between you, finding purchase against his side - right where he’s most ticklish.

He shrieks, nearly upending the fries he’s tried to dump onto a ceramic plate.

“Hey!”  Hands swat, then fold, catching your fingers between his in an awkward hand-hold.  “Keep your hands to yourself, Vi.” 

“You don’t complain normally,”  you retort.  You’re not wrong.  Skinship with you is one of his favourite things, fourth only to his dog, dancing, and a certain green-labelled soda.

“Well, today’s a special day.”  

Hoseok really doesn’t know where he’s going with his words - only hoping that he’ll find their destination somewhere along the way.  He doesn’t want to tell you too soon, all too aware of how the mention of your ex will bring this perfect moment crumbling down.  He wants to hold it, perhaps a little too tightly, for as long as he can.  He thinks he’s doing you a service, giving you these few extra minutes.

“Oh yeah?”  You’re twinkling eyes and pealing laughter, so far removed from the bag of bones and sadness of only days prior.  It’s hard to believe there’s something broken inside of there - tucked right behind your breastplate and out of sight.

“Yeah.”  

You wait for him to continue, opting instead to fill the silence with mouth noises.  He’ll tell you when he’s ready.  He always does.  

“Jungkook came by.”  It comes halfway through a bite of a french fry, the carb nearly bringing you to an early death when you choke on it.  All at once, everything spins, as if just the name is enough to upend your entire world.  Hoseok’s clapping your back, rubbing soothing circles over the cotton of your shirt, and you’re struggling to find words or breath - heaving around the sudden heaviness.

“What?”  So small, it’s hardly a word.

“He was here when I got here.”  You’re not oblivious to the careful way he speaks, choosing his words with utmost care.  You don’t miss his grip either, gentle and unyielding at your side - as if he might steady you beneath the sudden tidal wave of emotion.  

You do well, keeping your voice level once you’ve found it again.  “And?  What did he want?”

Hoseok does you the great service of pretending as if he doesn’t hear the hope in your voice.  You’re grateful for that. 

“He came with flowers.”  Not quite a laugh comes - more unimpressed and derisive than amused.  “Two bouquets, actually.”  You can feel him studying you from your periphery, his careful stare trained on your face and the dozen emotions that run rampant through it.  “Your favourite flowers too.”

Your laugh matches his own, though far heavier, as if the sound won’t form without immense effort.  “Wow.”

“Yeah.”  It’s a word you’ve heard a lot tonight.  It feels right.  One syllable to encompass every feeling you can’t properly articulate.  “He asked me to give them to you.”  

It should surprise you but it doesn’t.  Jungkook’s never been one to ask - instead taking what he wants - but it’s still funny.  Of course he’d ask that of Hoseok, as if the act itself weren’t terribly strange, the flowers an unwelcome, begging apology.  Jeon Jungkook only did what he wanted - etiquette be damned.

“I don’t see them anywhere.”  

“I told him I wasn’t comfortable doing it.”  There’s a touch of pride, glimmering gold painted over consonants and vowels.  It’s understated in the way that Hoseok always is - not how he looks, but is;  you’re drawn to it nonetheless, squeezing your fingers around his own in a silent thank you.

“I hope it wasn’t weird.”  It must have been.  It’s still the thought that counts.

Hoseok hams it up, scoffing like it’s just been another day.  “Weird?  Of course not.  I have to deal with my friend’s horrible exes all the time.  I’m practically Scott Pilgrim.”  

“Does that make me Ramona Flowers?”  

“No - but you’re my flower.”  He says it in jest, only to make you smile, because he knows you need it right now.

You try not to think of how you prefer Pumpkin, instead.

tag list.  @jalexad @aa-ronpa @kookiesbreaky @celestialflamefairy @xjoonchildx @pars-ley @seokjinssi @youwannabelostandnotbefound @patpus @dazedjjk @koozui @jinhitwhore @always-wishing-for-rain @neverthefirstchoice @snackhobi 

[shiishki]

okay wait, i changed my mind. you should answer all of these questions as well, if that's what you want from me >:)

oof there's a lot of it, that's what i get for wanting to be ✨aesthetic✨

1: 6 of the songs you listen to most?

vowels (and the importance of being me) - hunny

honeypie - jawny

pretty young thing - michael jackson

mirrors - justin timberlake

sunflower - red orange county

paradise - rude-a

2: If you could meet anyone on this earth, who would it be?

a therapist.

ok someone else.. uhh,, my grand grandma because i only have scratches of memories but i dunno if that counts since she passed away...

*rummages through ancient scripts* uhh ok someone who isn't dead.. uhm,, tommie? yeah I'd like to meet them if i could meet anyone on earth

3: Grab the book nearest to you, turn to page 23, give me line 17.

ok, the closest german, english or polish book? nvm i have english

"suddenly was. So I just said thank you a few times too, and Mum" ironically this is one of the normal lines in this book

4: What do you think about most?

the fact that I'll have to do something after school. and I don't know if i want to go to college or get a job bc i have no legitimate idea on what to do with my life. it gets overwhelming, just the lack of knowledge about the actual experience.

5: What does your latest text message from someone else say?

Ok

6: Do you sleep with or without clothes on?

with, tho i sleep with just shorts in summer

7: What’s your strangest talent?

not sure if it's a talent, but i can fall asleep anywhere

8: Girls… (finish the sentence); Boys… (finish the sentence)

girls are pretty. boys are pretty

9: Ever had a poem or song written about you?

by me, yes. no one else has written a poem about me specifically. nvm, tommie wrote one and it shall rest on my wall, or desk, i need to find a place for it

10: When is the last time you played the air guitar?

uhh i think last month?

11: Do you have any strange phobias?

i don't think so, but i am hella afraid of the possibly gigantic, terrifying things in the ocean depths that humans haven't discovered yet

12: Ever stuck a foreign object up your nose?

yep, beloved legos as a lil child

13: What’s your religion?

i can't ever remember the name, but i believe gods (from all religions) exist in some way or form. so i believe in different pantheons and etc.

14: If you are outside, what are you most likely doing?

walking my doggo, skateboarding, thinking about how to make the lives of my characters worse

15: Do you prefer to be behind the camera or in front of it?

behind it.

16: Simple but extremely complex. Favorite band?

uhmm the arctic monkeys? or the strokes

17: What was the last lie you told?

i know what i want

18: Do you believe in karma?

yes, the rule of three specifically

19: What does your URL mean?

i don't know. it's something me and my sis came up with and that's just my whole identity now.

20: What is your greatest weakness; your greatest strength?

uhh greatest weakness.. i can't finish things. strength is that I'm very stubborn so maybe I'll finish that thing out of spite

21: Who is your celebrity crush?

i grew up thinking crushes were like unicorns. my ex was odd enough to argue with that i didn't love her if i didn't have a crush on her. but I think if i had to guess.. selena gomez, especially in the role of alex russo in wizard of weverly street

22: Have you ever gone skinny dipping?

nope

23: How do you vent your anger?

i write angry letters. sometimes they're sad letters. i write a lot of letters. except i never send them out and no one made a movie about them :}

24: Do you have a collection of anything?

jars and witchy bottles, books? scented candles

25: Do you prefer talking on the phone or video chatting online?

phone calls are stressful enough as is, i don't need you to see my reading off what i frantically wrote to not stumble over my words

26: Are you happy with the person you’ve become?

i think so, yes, but that won't stop me from becoming better

27: What’s a sound you hate; sound you love?

hate flies buzzing right by my ear, love cat purring

28: What’s your biggest “what if”?

what if I'd been born in a place where it was illegal for me (nonbinary) to live, in a time when others thought of me as a curse?

29: Do you believe in ghosts? How about aliens?

they be chilling.

30: Stick your right arm out; what do you touch first? Do the same with your left arm.

right arm, doggo, left arm, pillow

31: Smell the air. What do you smell?

fresh air and doggo, because doggo is with me and I can't live without open windows

32: What’s the worst place you have ever been to?

i dunno tbh

33: Choose: East Coast or West Coast?

which one is less homophobic?

34: Most attractive singer of your opposite gender?

every gender is my opposite gender. selena gomez and justin timberlake

35: To you, what is the meaning of life?

to make it easier for people down the line

36: Define Art.

make thing, thing goes woo

37: Do you believe in luck?

yis

38: What’s the weather like right now?

it's nice actually, very sunny, slight breeze

39: What time is it?

12.59 am

40: Do you drive? If so, have you ever crashed?

i don't, but i once crashed into a fire department vehicle with my bike. bike ded.

41: What was the last book you read?

Crooked Kingdom by Leigh Bardugo

42: Do you like the smell of gasoline?

i legit ass don't know what gasoline smells like.

43: Do you have any nicknames?

many variations of my name, aka. Luce

44: What was the last film you saw?

i think it was Robin Hood: King of Thieves, but it might have been that half of spider-man homecoming i managed to watch with my poor internet

45: What’s the worst injury you’ve ever had?

oh man i dunno... it's not an injury, but i was very sickly as a lil kid and almost died :)

46: Have you ever caught a butterfly?

once, years ago

47: Do you have any obsessions right now?

hmmm horizon zero dawn i think

48: What’s your sexual orientation?

proud pansexual ^^

49: Ever had a rumour spread about you?

not really, i don't think they're big enough to be actual rumors,, meh

50: Do you believe in magic?

yis

51: Do you tend to hold grudges against people who have done you wrong?

meh. they suck, i know they suck, that's it.

52: What is your astrological sign?

cancer ♋

53: Do you save money or spend it?

i attempt saving. attempt

54: What’s the last thing you purchased?

for my own money, sweets. i bought lizards for my cats so they can brush their teeth from my dad's amazon acc

55: Love or lust?

luv

56: In a relationship?

nope, i buy my own cookies

57: How many relationships have you had?

1, kinda toxic toward the end, very stressful, don't recommend

58: Can you touch your nose with your tongue?

nu ><

59: Where were you yesterday?

on the fields walking my doggo

60: Is there anything pink within 10 feet of you?

yep, a pastel pink hoodie in my closet uwu

61: Are you wearing socks right now?

yis, thicc warm socks

62: What’s your favourite animal?

cats

63: What is your secret weapon to get someone to like you?

cuddles and food.

64: Where is your best friend?

bold of you to assume i have a best friend.

65: Give me your top 5 favourite blogs on Tumblr.

tommie-hildebrandt, kageyuji, nekomas-kuroo, joyful-soul-collector

66: What is your heritage?

I'm a demon boi from Poland tho that's not a thing to be proud of, i mean, look at the economy. awful.

67: What were you doing last night at 12AM?

sleeping, trying to sleep.

68: What do you think is Satan’s last name?

Pinkton. or Satan.

69: Be honest. Ever gotten yourself off?

this is such an odd combination of words i had to look it up. yea.

70: Are you the kind of friend you would want to have as a friend?

a friend who won't laugh at me when i ask them to order smth for me because I'm too anxious to.

71: You are walking down the street on your way to work. There is a dog drowning in the canal on the side of the street. Your boss has told you if you are late one more time you get fired. What do you do?

excuse me? i am saving the doggo wtf. f u boss, I'm gonna sell my tragic story to the news.

72: You are at the doctor’s office and she has just informed you that you have approximately one month to live. a) Do you tell anyone/everyone you are going to die? b) What do you do with your remaining days? c) Would you be afraid?

a) i tell my parents. b) live the hell out of them uwu c) nope uwu.

73: You can only have one of these things; trust or love.

trust.

74: What’s a song that always makes you happy when you hear it?

history maker - dean fujioka :]

75: What are the last four digits in your cell phone number?

3332

76: In your opinion, what makes a great relationship?

communication, trust, some more communication.

77: How can I win your heart?

let's not pretend to be something else to please each other, and bring some bitter chocolate.

78: Can insanity bring on more creativity?

maybe. it could. i don't have a say in it since my sanity is held by tape.

79: What is the single best decision you have made in your life so far?

eat the pizza. stop caring about others not liking me/parts of me. just living for myself uwu.

80: What size shoes do you wear?

uh i dunno how the american sizes work and i don't wanna look it up so, 39, 40 fits too.

81: What would you want to be written on your tombstone?

demon boi

82: What is your favourite word?

socks.

83: Give me the first thing that comes to mind when you hear the word; heart.

the bloody organ that sits in your chest and pumps blood into your body so you don't die.

84: What is a saying you say a lot?

uhm im not sure if that counts as a saying, but fake it till you make it

85: What’s the last song you listened to?

blinding lights - the weeknd

86: Basic question; what’s your favourite colour/colours?

oh a normal question people use for ice breaking, sea blue and pastel variations of it.

87: What is your current desktop picture?

like my wallpaper? or the actual picture that sits on my desk? or how my desk looks like atm? it's ugly, a lot of papers and pens and schoolbooks.

88: If you could press a button and make anyone in the world instantaneously explode, who would it be?

donald trump. or the next asshole who'll try to take the rights of the lgbt and poc away

89: What would be a question you’d be afraid to tell the truth on?

this. this is the question.

90: One night you wake up because you heard a noise. You turn on the light to find that you are surrounded by MUMMIES. The mummies aren’t really doing anything, they’re just standing around your bed. What do you do?

yo there's a pizza somewhere in the refrigerator, want me to heat it up? we can have a sleep over and talk about our feelings :3

91: You accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and what’s even cooler is that they endow you with the super-power of your choice! What is that power?

telekinesis! or shapeshifting! i could do such fun things with telekinesis ^^ yeah I'd totally eat some radioactive veggies

92: You can re-live any point of time in your life. The time-span can only be a half-hour, though. What half-hour of your past would you like to experience again?

that time my "friends" got me into shoplifting, half-hour is more than enough to punch some sense into my brain and develop good music taste

93: You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be?

can i save this one? i don't think i have an experience horrible enough to be erased haha

94: You have the opportunity to sleep with the music-celebrity of your choice. Who would it be?

sleep as in.. uh no thank u. but I'm down for a sleep over with sam smith ^^

95: You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere. You have to depart right now. Where are you gonna go?

just me? what about my pets? my fam? it's lowkey illegal for me to go just anywhere without them owO

uhhmm, greece. imma become part of the greek pantheon out of pure spite. and maybe toronto canada.

96: Do you have any relatives in jail?

not any that i know of o.o

97: Have you ever thrown up in the car?

i think i may have but i honestly don't remember

98: Ever been on a plane?

nope, i dunno if i like planes, but I'd probably sleep if i were on one.

99: If the whole world were listening to you right now, what would you say?

yeet.

[mychemicalficrecs]

sorry to bother you but do you know of any fics like the unholyverse??? i read it and absolutely loved it & would like to read somethinh similar lol

Hi there!

Tbh I kind of haven't (yet) 😅There's a whole bunch of fic with religious themes, horror and/or supernatural elements though, I'm sure you'll find something interesting!

Here's a link to the Unholyverse series again for everyone interested.

And just for the record: you're not a bother, I love making these lists!

If You Liked Unholyverse...

Not A Saint by happilyappled, Frank/Gerard, 6k, Explicit. Father Way is not just a priest and Frank is not just any other man.

Tell Me I'm an Angel by SeraphStarshine, Frank/Gerard, 205k, Mature. Gerard thought that committing suicide would finally end it: no more pain, no more sorrow - nothing. The last thing he expected was to wake up in Hell, reborn as a demon under Lucifer’s control. He is planning on ending himself - for good this time - when he runs into an angel named Frank. Even though it is forbidden, he can’t resist spending time with him, and before he even realizes what is happening, he has fallen in love with this mysterious angel. Little does he know that their innocent romance is a part of something much greater which could ignite an all-out war between Heaven and Hell.

Father Way. by Frnk, Frank/Gerard, 6k, Not Rated. Father Way was the youngest priest in the parish, he had only joined a few months ago and Frank completely stopped going to confessions. Its not that Father Way was some old man, it was the opposite. He was around 25, fresh out of training when he joined the church.

Won't You Light My Way? by FallOutFromGrace, Frank/Gerard, 6k [WIP], Explicit. The land of the living became all the more interesting when one of the humans he was trying to turn to his own desires happened to have a spark of the divine. Well, for Gerard, at least. To everyone else, it was a horrific disaster and possibly and end to an era ruled by the spirits and entities down below. To him, it was an improvement to a boring existence.

Hunting With Bullets by Oni216, 21k [WIP], Mature. Having a band is the perfect cover to fight evil that lurks in the dark. It provides distraction, a reason to live, and decent lyrics for no one to fully understand. And it takes its toll. It always takes a toll.

From Grace by blood_infexions, Frank/Gerard, 40k, Explicit. “The connection a guardian angel will have to their human surpasses anything mortal man could fathom. It is pure, untainted love.” Frank is Gerard's guardian angel... until Gerard attempts suicide. Consequentially he is sent down to earth to live as a human again.

Desecrated Kids by wellthisisprettyrisque (collettephinz), Frank/Gerard, 144k, Explicit. Everyone moves into a new town and thinks it's strange. Stepping out of the car with a weird feeling tingling down the back of your neck isn't actually that unheard of, but finding that unmarked grave in the woods behind your house is. Frank Iero wonders if his mother moved him here so he'd disappear off the face of the planet, or if she actually wants the body to be found. All he knows is that this town has some horrible things happening to it, and no one seems to care enough to lift their heads and actually see. He has no idea what's going on, and is one of the few people that wants to find out. Luckily, Gerard is a few steps ahead of him.

Howl (Frerard Werewolf AU) by FrerardAndTheAssbutts666, Frank/Gerard, 18k, Teen And Up Audiences. In a small village, the townspeople all live together in harmony. But when a young woman is found dead, a wave of fear washes over the former peaceful village. Especially when signs of Werewolves, and Witches are linked to the murder. 17 year old Gerard Way is a young man who is well liked by everyone in the village, partly due to his families status in the village. Despite the fact that his village is a God fearing one and he wears dresses. And when another murder is committed, showing the same signs as the first, the village turns to full blown panic, and reinforcements are sent in to help. A Werewolf hunter and his son have traveled to help save this village from the belly of the beast, all while Gerard begins to question everything. The only person he could truly trust during this time of fear, is his boyfriend and lover, Frank. Frank and Gerard have been having a secret relationship, fearing they would be condemned to death if anyone knew. But as more blood is shed and more bodies hit the ground, Gerard begins to piece together that the beast is closer than he thinks. (Loosely based off Red Riding Hood with Amanda Seyfried and Gary Goldman...Okay more like its pretty based off it :p.)

Written in the Sand by Scarlet_Cross, Sarah/Brendon in a later fic, 28k, Teen And Up Audiences. Desert is brutal, it gives no second chances. It demands respect, sacrifice, and blood. (It's set in a super AU danger days pre-music videos universe. Mostly centered on the MCR boys, but there will be cameos, references, and side shoot offs into different bandom areas.)

The psalm of David by ratfromasewer, Frank/Gerard, 6k, Teen And Up Audiences. There's the world that's "after" and there's the world that's "before". After the slippery road, the accident, the almost-becoming-an-angel.

Stairway to Heaven by fleurdeliser, tuesdaysgone, Frank/Grant/Gerard, 58k, Explicit. Father Way accidentally taps into the memories of an angel, and stumbles into the middle of a millennia-long doomed romance.

Shadows In The Parking Lot by cellphonecharm_au, Frank/Gerard, 61k, Explicit. In which there’s a mass grave under Frank and Ray’s apartment complex, Frank doesn’t believe in ghosts, & Frank’s ex-boyfriend is, conveniently, a paranormal consultant.

Shadowplay by theoretically_yours, Frank/Gerard, 74k [WIP], Explicit. Malimore is a small town in Southern California where ghosts are as common as any other household pest and vampires come out to steal the souls of humans at midnight. Frank Iero is a young paranormal investigator whose interest in the supernatural began after the bizarre and untimely death of his parents. One day, when he and his partner take on a particularly gruesome case, all hell breaks loose with Frank caught at the very center. This is the story of how it all happened.

When Both Our Fates Collide (Frerard) by A_A_Dolan, Frank/Gerard, 11k, Mature. Frank Iero is a loner traveler who is a demon hunter. He is part demon due to him having to sacrifice part of his soul to save the life of his son, Miles, after losing his wife and twin daughters to demons. Along the way, Frank has a quest to save the life of someone who can save humankind from death and destruction. A man by the name of Gerard Way. Frank ends up finding Gerard...as a professional, exotic dancer in the bad part of town. Gerard is special and unique and it’s Frank’s job to protect him at all costs. Eventually Frank discovers that Gerard is an angel and has powers stronger than all demons combined...when that news gets out, all demons and angels are on the search for Gerard.

Love will scares us apart by francoantoniohierro, Frank/Gerard, 56k, Mature, Explicit. Haunted House AU. Frank Iero is looking for answers after the death of his best friend. The only people willing to help are the Way brothers. On the other hand, the Way brothers are two paranormal experts looking for amusement.

Famous Last Words by SaskiaK, 22k, Mature. The Paramour Mansion is not for the faint-hearted. Mikey recalls some of events that almost tore him apart

Stay out of the Light by orphan_account, Frank/Gerard, 10k, Explicit. Reserved bookworm Gerard, and arrogant, conceited boyfriend Frank are best friends, though they share little in common. They share even less in common when Frank mysteriously gains an appetite for human blood. As their classmates are steadily killed off in gruesome attacks, Gerard must uncover the truth behind his boyfriend's transformation and find a way to stop the bloodthirsty rampage before it reaches his own brother Mikey. Jennifer's Body AU

The Brandy of the Damned by Nokomis, Gen, 15k, Teen And Up Audiences. An ill-advised detour leads My Chem to a town populated by the dead.

Get Up and Kill by MontyKarl, 10k, Teen And Up Audiences. The zombie apocalypse is upon us. The Way Brothers may well be our only hope...or at the very least their only hope.

In The Walls by thesamefire, Gen, 72k, Teen And Up Audiences. When My Chemical Romance move into the Paramour, they get a lot more than they bargained for. All they want to do is write an epic album, but Mikey is falling apart and Gerard isn't sure what to do about it—or about the fact that they're trapped inside the house with no escape from the increasingly strange and terrible things that are happening to them.

Break The Walls (And Kill Us All) by tabulaxrasa, Frank/Gerard, 27k, Mature. Frank owns an antique store, but he's not very good at it. About the only thing he IS good at is having a crush on his best customer. Until Frank unknowingly unleashes something into his shop— something that doesn't like him very much. And it's not going away any time soon.

the house that dripped blood by addandsubtract, Frank/Mikey, 11k, Mature. “When do we leave?” Mikey asks, and Gerard steps back. “Two weeks,” he says, and Mikey sees flashes of empty hallways and open doors as Gerard pulls his fingers away.

[takivvatanga]

what remains.

Brown paper bag. PATIENT PROPERTY. The top folded over one, two, three times, stuck down with a printed label. 

VAR ANAHID-REID, Assire. Date of Birth, NHI number, Address.  

Patient Deceased. NOK to collect written underneath in black pen.

These are the contents. This is what remains:

A crumpled feather, blackish brown. Damp.

8 hours remain.

“Mum, look!” Stella’s voice is insistent, serious. She’s fallen behind, easily distracted by her surroundings – she is her mother’s daughter. Assire checks her watch, turns around towards her daughter, her expression serious. Stella is crouched on the wet pavement, the hood of her coat pulled up over her head, dark curls spilling out in a stark contrast against the white faux fur lining. Sometimes Stella looks like Assire, other times she looks just like Jonathan. There’s hints of other people there, too. But most of the time, Stella just looks like Stella, and Assire loves her so fiercely that it hurts.

You’re the most impossible task I’ve ever tackled. You are the greatest thing I’ve ever done.

“What are you doing, Stella? We’re going to miss the train if you keep mucking around. Do you want to go to Emma’s house or not?!”

“Look what I found, Mum!” Stella raises a gloved hand, her breath rising in small white clouds. Assire responds with a stern look, an impatient gesture. Stella huffs a little but obeys, running towards her mother, her boots going splish splish splish on the wet ground.

“It’s for you, Mum. It’s from a bird.” She presents the feather with something bordering on reverence, and Assire accepts it without thinking, slides it through the top buttonhole of her coat.

“Why, thank you very much. I shall wear it with pride.” Stella beams at her, and Assire takes her daughter’s hand in hers.

“You have to wear it for the rest of your LIFE, Mum.”

“I will, honey. For the rest of my life.”

 A raffle ticket. Number 47. Carefully folded in half.

7 hours remain.

Barbara has a round face and kind eyes. Her blonde hair is cut short and her earrings glitter in the late afternoon light. Her house is colourful and noisy, in a perpetual state of activity. Herbs grow on the windowsill of her kitchen. Dishes are piled in the sink. Children’s drawings cover the refrigerator door.

“What do you say to Barb, Stella?” Assire’s hands rest on her daughter’s shoulders.

“Where’s Emma?” Stella bursts out, already kicking off her boots.

Assire rolls her eyes, her lips forming a silent apology. Barbara chuckles, turns on the tap, hot water rushes into the sink.

“It’s all good, it’s all good. No worries, eh? EMMA! Come down, Stella’s here!” The sound of light steps racing down wooden stairs. A blonde head poking through the kitchen door. 

“Hi Stella! Hi Stella’s Mum!” Stella’s best friend in the whole world forever and ever is small for her age and full of energy, a noisy, snot-nosed little kid with a big heart and an even bigger mouth. Assire is glad that her daughter has friends. She remembers what it felt like to be a lonely child.

“Stella’s Mum, do you want to buy a raffle ticket? I’m doing a fundraiser. So I can go to camp over the holidays.”

“Hello, Em”, she replies, letting go of her daughter’s shoulders. “Sure, I’ll buy a ticket. Today might just be my lucky day. Give me… number 47.” Emma squeals with excitement, produces a greasy booklet of tickets from the pocket of her jeans, flicks through, tears one out, passes it to Assire who hands over a crisp ten dollar bill in exchange.

“I don’t have change.”

“It’s fine, Emma.”

“Whaaaaa… THANK YOU! Stella your mum is cool.”

“You girls be good, okay? No staying up watching rubbish all night and Stella – you promise me to listen to Barb, please. Seriously, if I find out you made a nuisance of yourself, you know what that means, right? No more sleepovers.”

Stella looks up at her mother, nods quietly. “What time are you coming back?”

“In the morning, honey. Dad and I are going to pick you up in the morning.”

“In the car?”

“Yeah. In the car.”

“Bye, Mum.” Stella turns, opens her arms. Assire hugs her daughter goodbye. Neither of them know that this will be the last time.

 A mobile phone. Shattered screen. A smear of dried blood.

One hour remains.

sms: Jonathan

[txt] I’m just about finished thank goodness. You wouldn’t believe what these absolute incompetents did to their server I am SPEECHLESS

[txt] but that being said I’m really enjoying being in this building all by myself. It’s like being a ghost. The benevolent spirit of emergency server repair. It’s so lovely and quiet and there’s people’s things just sitting around and I can’t stop wondering who the people are that those things belong to

[txt] you still on track to pick me up? I’m so very much looking forward to having some time with just US. And I feel so bad for feeling like this because you know how much I love stella but sometimes I just miss when it was just you and me

[txt] can we go for a drive over the bridge? I love the bridge at night

[txt] really? I was so looking forward to us having some time to ourselves. Nvm you do what you have to do hopefully your shift improves. I’ll catch the train and I’ll see you at home I suppose. I might text barb and see if stella can stay at hers until after lunch we can sleep in and just BE at least

[txt] yes I’m sure! It’s fine seriously! I can look after myself, remember :)

[txt] I love you too. Very very much.

[txt] see you soon x

A train ticket. Single fare. Western Line.

Forty-five minutes remain. 

There’s no sense of impending doom. No oppressive atmosphere. No feeling that this is it, this is the end. Assire’s shoes echo on the subway stairs. She’s going to have to wait for a little while until her train arrives, but she doesn’t mind. Assire has always, in some strange way that she can’t quite explain, enjoyed the stations at night. Sometimes, they feel like sacred spaces, separate from the world above, existing in their own time, according to their own rules. She is disappointed when she finds that the platform is not completely deserted. A young woman wearing headphones sits with her phone in her hand, popping bubblegum against the back of her teeth.

An elderly couple, long distance travellers, judging by their suitcases, share a newspaper. Assire watches them with curiosity, wonders what it will be like to grow old, and all of a sudden there’s a dreadful thought screeching through her mind that she cannot silence.

What will I do, when I am old and he dies before me?

There is not a doubt in her mind that it is Jonathan who will die first. Everyone knows that women live longer, and his father died young, who knows what the burden of his genetic legacy will be. The thought grabs hold, cold and cruel and terrible, crushing her heart and constricting her throat. She scrambles for her phone, her fingers slick with sweat, it slips out of her hand, falls to the ground with an ominous thud. The screen shatters.

Shit.

The girl with the headphones looks up, grins, her expression pure schadenfreude.

Assire scoops up her phone, keeps walking. The lights at the other end of the platform flicker erratically, almost as if in warning. Assire does not recognise it, or else she does not heed it.

“Give me your wallet.”

“Excuse me?”

She never even saw him approach. He’s very young, almost still a kid, with big hungry eyes and a sad excuse for a beard dappling his chin. His hood is pulled right up over his head, his jeans are dirty, and he’s very thin. There’s an eruption of infected sores over his sunken cheeks, every part of his body seems to be in motion.

“You fucking heard me, bitch! Give me your fucking wallet!”

She should be scared. By all means, she should be terrified. But all she can see is a little boy, a desperate little boy. She has faced far greater fears than this. She shakes her head. She will not be intimidated.

“No.”

“You fucking bitch!” There are tears in his eyes. There’s a knife in his hand. There’s something sharp piercing her side, again and again and again and again. There’s something hot and red and viscous spilling out of her, dripping down her leg, blooming on her coat. There’s nausea, and dizziness, and a sound like a train approaching. There’s darkness closing in, clouding her vision. There’s the dirty subway platform floor, rising up to meet her. There’s a light. It’s beautiful.

 A set of torn and bloodstained clothes.

Sixty seconds remain.

She recognises him. Despite the fact that his face is obscured by a surgical mask, despite the fact that everything is all messed up, despite the fact that she cannot focus her eyes. She would recognise him anywhere. She would know him in death, at the end of the world. 

She is looking down on him, watching him work, his movements quick, frantic. His hands are shaking. She’s pretty sure that when a surgeon’s hands are shaking, the prognosis is unfavourable. Assire feels sorry for the person on the table, the person who is about to die. She doesn’t like this place. She remembers asking him what it is like, in theatre, remembers listening to him describe it, the way everything is deliberate, precise, orderly. This is not orderly at all. Discarded equipment litters the floor, there’s drips and machines and sharp metallic things everywhere. There’s a shoe on the ground, lying in a pool of blood. She has a pair exactly like that. They are her favourite shoes.

She can hear voices, but the words don’t make any sense. They don’t need to. This is nothing good. Assire knows nothing about medicine, but there’s blood everywhere, seeping out from underneath the sterile sheet covering the body person on the table, seeping, seeping, seeping. A river of blood that pours and pours and will not, can not stop. Someone pulls off the sheet, the sound of the machines rises to a crescendo. The person on the table is a woman. She looks familiar. Assire wants to get closer, wants to see her face properly. This is someone she knows!

“Excuse me. I need to look. Please. Let me look.” No one takes notice of her request. No one takes notice of her, full stop. Aren’t they surprised that she’s here, right in the middle of it all?

“Assire! No! Don’t you dare!”

He has noticed. He has noticed her, and he’s calling her name, and he is angry, so angry, and by all means he should be, she has no business hanging around in operating theatres!

“I’m sorry! Jonathan, I’m sorry. I just need to see, I’ll explain later. When you finish. When we’re home. I can explain. I don’t know how I got here but I can explain.”

He looks up, but he doesn’t see her. She knows he doesn’t. There are tears in his eyes and something else, a terrible, terrible grief and all she wants to do is to reach out and comfort him, to let him know that everything will be alright, she’s here

I’m here, I’m here!

and she’s both here, suspended above and there, on the table, in a pool of her own blood, not making a sound not moving not breathing not living it’s time to go but she doesn’t want to, she wants to stay!

I want to stay!

and it hurts, it hurts, oh God it hurts so bad until it doesn’t

It doesn’t hurt anymore.

It’s alright

Everything will be alright.

and darkness starts to close in on her but she’s not afraid of the dark this time, because there’s a light at the very edge of it and it keeps growing and pulling her towards it

The light is so beautiful.

and she turns around for what she knows will be the last time and she knows that this time he can hear her

I’ll wait for you. I’ll always wait for you. I love you. I’m sorry.

Goodbye.

@throatkissed  why am I like this

[babyboyoonie]

Yoonmin Rec Masterlist

what more can i say,, let’s just GET IT 

Fluff

Thunder | it’s thunder, bitch | don’t mind my tags | Yoongi just doesn’t like thunder much

A Little Jealousy | never kills nobody~~ | well the title is self-explanatory what do you want me to say

housewarming | they’re adorable as fuck | my heart has been reported: soft

In the way you give and take | Jimin’s intense with his feelings | they’re just both whipped for each other

Almond Eyes | coffee shop AU | Yoongi’s super shy | Jimin’s a flirt

Soft Spot | Yoongi’s soft for the maknae line

Coffee and Honey | coffee shop AU | Yoonmin are adorable

You're My Everything | Yoongi is a clumsy cutie | Jimin’s soft

mind is a razor blade | doggo Jimin but not really | Yoongi lens a flower shop

fools | shy Yoongi is shy

If looks could kill... | I’m not gonna say anything | just read lololol

You don't mess with Min Yoongi | in which Yoongi is softer than soft

Impulse | vampire Jimin | childhood friend AU

let's stay like this | morning sweetness | Yoongi’s as needy as he said Holly was

meow and cuddles | hybrid AU but not really | it’s soft and a bit angsty on Minnie’s side but nothing big

sleep and showers | they’re both hybrids | and cute

Away in The Mountains | witch!jimin with his magic kitty Yoon

babies and flowers | kid fic

To Not See Is To Love | sweet n soft

i don't care if you're not sorry, i forgive you | seemingly bad boy Yoongi | he really isn’t and Jimin sees it

Tiny Humans Not Included | yoonmin are adorable ))=| caring for a baby included

Of Potions and Chocolates | dragon slayer Jimin | potion brewer Yoongi | they’re crushing on each other but totally oblivious and it’s sweet

Tell Me Your Secrets, I'll Tell You Mine | post stress after mixtape release | overall cute

Nothing wrong with a little Pride | adorable and funny to bits | the characters are so lovable whoa

For You | comfort

In Bloom | mystery  | just soft

I Think It’s Called, Customer Service | an adorable misunderstanding | cute

Angst

Overdose | sad...but not too much...but sad

Color // Yoonmin | bitch maybe I cried | aaah my heart hurts why am I doing this

Why are you shaking up my heart? | it begins as v sad but turns out soft in the middle | crushing boys having crushes in idol verse

you make me believe in happily ever after | right in the kokoro

if I can laugh with you, my heart will clear up, too | oof be mindful of your heart it’ll clench up so bad

Lead me home | angst fest yeay | Pirate AU

Ashtrays and Heartbreaks (a love song since when)  | soft angst  | dealing with feelings n all that

An Uber-Unexpected Journey | an Uber story

Caught in a Lie | cheating

Confidence | it’s sad but not full blown sad ya know | ends up sweet

Smut

Good Things Come to Those Who Wait | threesome | Yoonminjin | dom Jimin

imma give it to you right now |  ABO | alpha Jimin | Omega Yoongi | cute

you're unbelievable (but i still want it) | funny!! | they’re both very straightforward....

Sleepover | face-fucking | cock-slut Yoongi

Thunderstorm | soft

Lock and key | ABO | porn with plot | dog hybrid Jimin

no rest for the wicked | Taegimin | tired bby yoon

softer than the sky at dusk | Yoonminseok | (((;

things that can't be found on the internet | i don’t even know what to tag | just read it pls it’s good

Let yourself unwind | shower sex | Dom Jimin

Hatred Plays On Our Side | enemies to lover

Cherry Lips  | crossdressing  | Yoongi in pretty clothes

i would throw in the towel for you, boy  | jockstraps? daddy kink? yeah, uh, that

Touch me, Hyung | morning sex

Camera Shy | Plot twist

Slice of life

Don't come closer (I'll bite) | College AU | Jimin is b o l d | Yoongi tries to be mean but he’s a marshmallow so jokes on him | a favorite

Powder Pink (Softer Than Mink) | Car racing AU | smut part contains BDSM

we'll be your escape | idol verse | part everyone/Yoongi | cuddles

rid me of this meddlesome fate | deities AU | ADORABLE

styx and stones (i'm home alone) | ...hell AU? | Jimin is chaotic

Charcoal and Graphite | vampire jimin

Red's Big Bad Wolf | red riding hood AU | Jimin is one yummy wolf okay and really into Yoongi

What Helps Him Sleep At Night | Incubus Jimin | he’s whipped and it’s adorable

Money can't buy happiness (except when it does) | it hurts but it hurts good | v v sweet

Transparent | ghosts AU

We Belong Together  | surprise baby-sitting  | yoongi is good with babies

I kissed a boy (and I liked it).  | or the one where jimin’s yongi’s sex-drive epiphany

Peach Kiss | the 80′s | soft boys in love | so so endearing

Caught In A Lie | Royalty AU

Multi-chaptered

A Cinderella Story: Yoonmin Edition | social media au + some parts written

Two Worlds | ABO | boarding school | Alpha Jimin | Omega Yoongi

at the touch of death | mythology AU | Persephone Yoongi | Hades Jimin

I want you (to want me) | college AU | playboy Jimin

two plus one | idol jimin and single parent Yoongi | they’re cute

I know you want to be my bitch for tonight | Yoongi’s depicted as an asshole in the beginning but it’s explained and it gets better don’t worry

A Little Bit of Everything| chat fic | the interactions are cute!!! | 12/10 would recommend their dynamic | a favorite of @lollifewhatlife

SUN PRINCE | another chat fic | my personal favorite | platonic taegi for life

that's gay | chat fic !! | ...platonic taegi hehe

when you're in love all the lines get blurred | fake dating au | Yoongi’s actually so soft you’ll see

Conflicting Arrangement | 12/10 character development

Solace | bitter sweet | heartbreaking in the most mundane way, it shouldn’t be that sad but it is | it gets better super quick so no worries

Neko Atsume | cat hybrid Yoongi | okay so Yoongi’s really soft and Jimin takes care of him real good BUT Yoongi tops in one chapter (the 77th) | I still rec-ed it bc even though he tops Jimin is still in charge

Soft | trope inversion, Jimin’s the bad boy and Yoongi’s the good one | Jimin isn’t bad at all actually lmao

blow a kiss (fire a gun) | spy AU

Ablaze | dragon Yoongi turning human | spell breaker Jimin | it’s a roller coaster you’ve been warned

Burning Snow | crush crush | unhealthy relationship (not between yoonmin)

[lordshaxxion]

AAALL for Cidrex because he is my favorite boy

alright u asked for it >:U all of this fuckery will be under a cut

Where were you rezzed?

“In a forest somewhere in the EDZ, I think. I don’t really remember much of it, I was pretty much immediately attacked by Fallen, so there was a lot of running for my life.”

How long ago was it?

“During the Dark Ages, so a reaaaally long time ago. Like, during the prime of the Iron Lords.”

Did you have anything in your pockets?

“Just a lump of crystal quartz, but it was rose-coloured and I guess that’s where my obsession with shiny things and collecting crystals from? Oh, I also had some old currency from the Golden Age. No idea what kinda currency, but I cleaned them up and they’re super shiny and really cool.”

What was your first week alive like?

“Stressful. It was a lot of learning how to survive and trusting my Ghost to heal any injuries and bring me back if I died. That was a shock in itself though, when I died for the first time.”

How did you react to your new role as a Guardian?

“Well I became an Iron Lord before I became a Guardian, and that was pretty alright until SIVA happened. After that, being a Guardian and being an Iron Lord became the same thing - just doing the right thing because no one else will, or can.”

Do you have any regrets?

“I couldn’t save my brothers and sisters of Iron from SIVA. Saladin has always told me that I couldn’t have saved them by myself, but I still regret not doing more to at least try.”

Does your ghost have a name?

“He’s called Socks-”

“IT’S SOX!”

“-because he used to hide in my sock drawer at the Iron Temple.”

What is your ghost like?

“He calls himself Sox because he wants to look cool, and I think he cares too much about how he looks from the perspective of other Ghosts. I dunno if Ghosts are judgy to one another, but what I do know is that Sox used to hang around a not-so-great group of them. He’s small for a Ghost and I think this group sorta... took the piss. He tries to act tough a lot, but I know that deep down he cares a lot and he does like his actual name.”

How do you feel about the last city and the vanguard?

“I was sent to the Last City by Saladin to act as a so-called ambassador between the City and the Temple, so it’s like a second home to me now. I know all the streets like the back of my hand, even the sectors I’m not really meant to venture into. The Vanguard are alright, they have their hiccups but I know they mean well and try their best. Well, the did until Cayde... yeah.”

What’s your favourite place to go?

“Cayde used to describe it as wanderlust, but I like wandering all over the Earth and seeing all the ruins and wilds there are. Though my favourite place out of all is the Lost Sector in Winding Cove. It’s so beautiful there with the glow-worms in the dark and the reflection of them in the water. Nice and quiet too, when it’s cleared out every other day.”

Do you participate in strikes or the crucible?

“Strikes. I leave the Crucible to my brother, Othion.”

How do you celebrate the holidays?

“I used to celebrate in getting blackout drunk with Cayde and the rest of the Vanguard, we even used to persuade Shaxx and Othion to join us sometimes. Now though I spend them by myself just tinkering with the stuff I’ve collected over the years.”

Who is your favourite NPC and who is your least favourite?

“It was and will always be Cayde. I can’t get along with Ada-1, though. She unnerves me and acts rather stuck-up despite allowing Guardians into the Black Armory now.”

Where do you sleep/call home?

“I have my own apartment in the Tower, of course, and unlike most Hunters that’s where I call home. It gets me weird looks though, I know a lot of Hunters prefer sleeping under the open stars and it gets Sox to tease me and call me ‘a domesticated hunter’.”

Do you have any pets or companions?

“I wanted to get a cat when Cayde was still around, but we never got round to doing it. Though I kinda have magpies that come to stay when I’m at home. I put feed out on the window sill for them and sometimes they come back with shiny trinkets for me. Oh, and I look after Colonel too, but I’m not allowed to keep Colonel in my apartment because other Hunters would throw a fit.”

Does anyone live with you?

“Cayde and I talked about it, about him moving in with me or something. Again, we never got round to it.”

How do you unwind or comfort yourself?

“It’s embarrassing to admit, but when me and Sox went exploring a while back we found a stash of what used to be called ‘stim toys’. Lots of pots of squishy clay-like dough. Sometimes if I’m overwhelmed I just dig out one of the pots and just sit there squishing it for an hour or so. In terms of general relaxation, if I have the attention span I’ll read or if I don’t then I’ll watch some movies. I got a good collection of Golden Age and pre-Golden Age movies now.”

What would truly break you?

“Losing someone close to me again. I lost Cayde and I wasn’t myself for a long time. If I were to go through that again, I really don’t think I’d recover at all.”

Most embarrassing moment?

“When Sox resurrected me for the first time after dying and I sat there crying and threw up for two hours. It wasn’t... my greatest moment.”

Any cherished memories?

“All of my time with Cayde, to be honest with you. Even when we argued, I cherish those memories greatly. Also the first time I discovered a rare crystal, that was a pretty good moment too.”

What was your highest and/or lowest point?

“Like I said, losing Cayde devastated me almost to a point of no return. Highest point? First Crimson Days with Cayde, we wrecked shop in the Crucible together and got banned in the same day! The look on Izel’s face was glorious.”

Views on the enemy races?

“I don’t like the Taken or Scorn, those are practically a given. Vex are annoying and freak me out a little. Cabal I loathe for what they did to the City, though that’s predominantly the Red Legion but whatever. Hive also freak me out now I think about it, though the worms they drop are kinda cute. Fallen? I just feel pity for them. They lost everything in their own version of the Collapse and are just trying to get by, and yet we keep attacking them.”

Which enemy race is your most/least favourite?

“I hate the Scorn for what they did. On the flip side of that, I rather like the Fallen. I got a chance to get to know a few, like Mithrax, and they’re honestly not that bad when you do get to know them.”

What’s your role in a fireteam? (Tank, support, buff/healer, comic relief? Or are you the dead weight?)

“Dead weight.”

“No you aren’t, Cidrex, you’re a sniper.”

Do you have any mentors/mentees?

“Saladin and many of the original Iron Lords were my mentors, but I don’t have any mentees. Hunters ask me for advice every so often, but I don’t give it. I don’t want to be in that position, I’m not a good teacher.”

What is your favourite weapon type/favourite weapon?

“Give me my DARCI and I’m good to go. I like auto rifles a lot though, despite me using snipers a lot I’m not that great up close so it’s easier for me to just kinda spray and pray without the instability of SMGs.”

Do you play Gambit?

“Sometimes. It can get really stressful trying to deal with invaders that use utter bastard weapons.”

How do you feel about the Drifter?

“I don’t know. Everything about his operations just tell me that I can’t trust him at all, but then I got to know him better and I just feel... kinda sad?”

If you could be any class/subclass (not just your own), what would you be and why?

“Striker Titan, cuz it looks like fun and a great stress and tension relief. Though, I’d like to be able to use Gunslinger properly, I’ve never been able to use it all that well even when Cayde tried to teach me. I’d just like to do it, for him.”

What are your thoughts on the Nine?

“Fuckin’ weird. I don’t trust them at all, especially not after I saw the Emissary for the first time. Though Xur’s pretty cool.”

Any secret crushes or relationships we need to know about?

“Well.... there is this one guy. Hunter, but he’s built like a Titan. Got no social skills and the emotional range of a teaspoon, but he’s charming in his own way regardless.”

“It’s Ataric.”

“SOX!” @crazy-bone-lady

Does your Ghost approve, or haven’t you told them?

“Sox is a piece of shit that tries to out my crush at every given moment. Luckily, he’s a tiny piece of shit so I can just hold him in my hands and he can’t do anything.”

You’re about to go off-planet on assignment, and will only be able to eat protein rations and food gel for a month. What’s your last meal?

“I don’t really have a preferred meal or anything, so I’d just get take-out somewhere in the City. I know a couple really good joints.”

If you could take over any NPC’s job, who would it be and why?

“Cayde’s job as Hunter Vanguard. I know every Hunter has just about run for the hills, and will always do so when they hear the words ‘Vanguard Dare’, but I’d be happy to take up the position. I’ve already taken up his cloak, might as well take the job that came with it right?”

What is the most beautiful sight you’ve seen?

“When Sox and I were exploring an Io cave system, we fell through into a massive chamber filled with crystals. The light from where we’d fallen through shone on the crystals in such a way it created an utterly breathtaking spectrum of colour. We took so many photos of that moment, it was just so amazing to see all these crystalline spires lit up and practically glowing.”

“What about that sunrise in the EDZ?”

“Oh yeah, this one was pretty good.”

Do you have a favourite colour?

“Not particularly, though green’s pretty good since I dyed my hair with it.”

Show us your favourite outfit!

“Top picture, switch the pants for the Lucky Pants and you’re sorted. Bottom picture, I miss my BrayTech hood. It was super cosy, and paired nicely with the Taimat(?) chestpiece.”

What’s your favourite shader?

“New Monarchy Diamonds and Metro Shift.”

If you could make a wish to an Ahamkara for anything - no strings attached - what would you wish for?

“To save all those I failed to save. The Iron Lords, Cayde. All of them.”

[primsgirl89]

Hauntingly Incredible: Relocated

Danny wanted nothing more than to go back to Amity Park, where he knew his family and friends were, but he couldn't. He was found by the Supers Relocation Program a year ago, mainly because he had proven that he was a superhero for saving the town he lived in. Fighting the ghost constantly made him mature and know that he hadn't a choice in the matter. Hero's were band for fifteen years already, just a year older than he was already, and he had to respect the law.

He hated that heroes were illegal, but he wasn't ready to give up the hope that one day he could return to his town and have them remember him. Danny remembers having to fight the program on wiping all memories of him from everyone, even his foes. In the end, his pleas fell upon deaf ears so he watched as one of his foes, Desiree, grant a very specific wish to have all memories of Danny Fenton ever existing, all but one. His clone, or as Danny prefers his cousin, Danielle who they have to find. They offered Danny if he wanted a memory wipe of all the memories he has of his town, but Danny insisted that he wanted the memories, in case he was allowed back to the small town of Amity Park.  

But that was all about a year ago. Now he was known as the boy who never speaks to anyone, but no one knew why. All anyone knows is that he lives in a five-bedroom house all alone and he works after school at a local coffee shop that he seems to practically own. Danny was on his way to check in at where he worked on a Friday, only to see a car in front of a school, but that wasn't what caught his eye. No, it was a small teenage girl suddenly reappearing after a boy stopped looking at where the girl was before she had turned invisible. So there were supers in the town he lived in, maybe he could follow them to see where they lived. He threw the thought away since he wasn't thrilled about having someone follow him, so he won't do it to anyone else.

The girl wouldn't leave his mind though for the rest of the weekend. In work he would space out slightly, he would bump into things when he walked, and worse of all he ended up bumping into some bullies from his school. He had to fight the kids to protect himself, he wasn't going to have a repeat of Amity High. Something about that girl intrigued him, she reminded him of himself when he had a crush on a girl. That could be why the girl was so insistent on not being seen by that boy, or it was possible that the girl was an introvert and wasn't good with socializing. Danny wanted to know about the girl, but he couldn't go to Clockwork and ask him since Clockwork was already busy as it was, so he knew he had to do it like anyone else. He had to connect with her.  

When Monday came around he wasted no time in hurrying to get on the bus to school. The bus driver looked afraid of the boy like normal, but everyone else was also afraid of him when Danny wasn't in his cafe. It only made Danny pull up his dark grey hoodie so he could enjoy the peace the ride would bring. The bus stopped again to pick up a couple of other kids, but he was startled when a person sat beside him, even more so when it was the girl who wouldn't leave his head.

"Uh, you, um, don't mind if I sit here, do you," the girl asked softly. Wanting to give her some relief of being next to him Danny took his hood off and gave a friendly smile. "Thanks."

He took notice of the girl's appearance. Her skin was fair, cheeks painted red, long straight black hair that fell to her midback. She had lovely blue eyes that seemed to be filled with self-doubt and self-hate. Danny remembered feeling the same way.

"It doesn't help if you bottle it up," Danny said spooking the jumpy girl. "I know from experience of self-doubt and self-hate, trust me."

The girl, who he thought of the nickname Crystal for her until he got her name, looked at him with surprise and was about to deny any of what the black haired boy beside her said, but she looked in his sky blues and felt a connection, she didn't feel like she had to be alone anymore. The thought of letting someone in was scary and figured she wasn't ready to become emotionally attached to another simple human who will have their memory wiped away of her.

"My name is Violet Parr," Violet said placing her hand out for the boy to grab ahold of. When his hand came forward, she noticed it was invisible yet she felt his hand in her own.

"Danny Fenton," he said with a small smirk on his lips. He made his hand reappear so it looked normal to onlookers. "I liked your trick you did Friday."

Violet guessed he knew about her being able to turn invisible herself, and she was embarrassed to have been caught by someone. She was just lucky that it was from another super. She gave a small smile and she giggled at the boy beside her. They got off the bus last, something both prefer to do when they need to get off. Danny watched as Violet got off, trying to hide in her dark purple hoodie, but it didn't cover her well enough. Danny finding it amusing took off his hoodie and offered it to her.

"I have an extra in my bag, go ahead." Violet gave a grateful smile and quickly placed the hoodie on, glad that she could hide from the other students. Once the hoodie was on she smelled Danny all around her. His scent was calming and cooling, an odd combination, but not unwelcomed.

"Thanks, Danny," Violet said with her slight lisp. "What do you have first?"

"Math with Miss Waters," Danny said with a small smile. He liked the pretty girl by him and he liked the connection he feels with her even if they just met.

"Same here, so that means that we have all the same classes."

Danny nodded and walked into the math class to start the tedious task of school, whether it is needed for life or not it was still a bore. He and Violet sat by the other and started the day together.

[tom-hollands-eyelash]

Don’t Forget Us (Peter Parker X Stark!Reader) Part 4

Summary: What would happen if you were Tony Starks daughter and could lift Mjölnir.

Word count: 1,710

A/n: I’ve had this idea for a while now and I can’t wait to share it with you guys! Please leave feedback, it’s always appreciated.

MY TAGLIST FOR THIS STORY IS TEMPORARILY CLOSED!

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

***

“Here you go captain, pastrami on rye pushed down real flat.” Peter said handing the hooded man a plastic bag as they walked out of the deli shop.

“Delmar’s.” Steve said looking up at the sign behind head. “Really?”

“Best sandwiches in Queens.” Peter said back proudly.

“Sub haven is pretty good too.”

“Eh. Too much bread.” The teenager said shrugging his shoulders.

“I like bread.” The super soldier said unwrapping his sandwich and looking down at the web head. “And does it normally take 20 minutes?”

“No. Not normally.”

“Sub Haven never takes that long.” The super solider said smirking as he was getting ready to take a bite out of his sandwich.

Peter lifted his hands in defense as he turned around to face Steve and start to walk backwards “look all in saying is-“

“WATCH OUT!” Steve said pushing the young hero out of the way of a flaming, flipped over black SUV that almost squished the spider themed avenger.

“Whoa that was a close one! Thank you Mr. Captain America sir.” Peter said as he got up and dusted himself off.

“It’s not a problem kid.” Steve said chuckling a little bit as he saw the boy look at him with admiration. Steve then lifted his gaze from the arachnid hero to look around to get a sense on what and how what just happend happend. “What do you think ha-“ the super solider cut himself off when he saw that Peter’s admiration for him was gone and instead was replaced with worry. “Parker what’s wrong? What is it?”

“You brought your shield right?”

“Yeah it’s in the car why?”

“You might want to get it.” Peter said before he ran into an allyway and began to strip and change into his skintight suit.

When Peter came back his hunch spidey sense was right. Steve Rodgers is in danger and fighting a man with a metal arm and half his face covered, Steve’s shield lodged into the trunk of a blue grayish van while dodging a knife.

Peter starting running towards the fight and fired his webs at a nearby building and landed on the shoulders of the masked cyborg. The man stopped trying to attack Steve for a second giving the solider the upper hand and punching the man in the black mask in the face. While Peter used his web to tie around the man in black’s hand and neck to prevent him from throwing Peter off of his shoulders and losing his knife in the process. It worked for a second until Steve ran over to get his shield and the solider in black threw Peter into a car. The cyborg was walking towards Steve and pulled out another knife from his back. “Mr. Rodgers he has another knife watch out!” Peter called out just as Steve was turning around just in time to block the attempt at a stab in the back. Steve stepped back to avoid getting his throat sliced open and hit the masked man in the stomach with his shield. The man with the metal arm retaliated as he brought his fist up, while holding the knife and swung it at Steve, who brought his shield up to block the punch. The cyborg dropped the knife to his free hand and swung it at Steve, but gave the old man an opening and punched him in the abdomen causing the solider in black to drop his knife and stumble backwards. Which gave Steve the opportunity to run up to him, grab his face and non metal arm and flip him onto his back; causing the long brunette haired solider to lose his mask and turn around.

“Bucky?” A confused and shell shocked Steve Rodgers asked.

“Who the hell is Bucky?” Bucky asked again just as he did with Y/N and started walking over to the confused solider who was once his friend before he heard new orders from Ursula in his ear piece.

“You’ve been compromised. Come back now.”

“But-“

“No buts! The only butt I want is yours back here. NOW!”

Bucky took one last look at the man who he use to call friend. The man who he consoled when his parents died. The scrawny kid from Brooklyn who never ran from a fight. The man whom he followed into war. The man who was now his enemy, his mission. And reluctantly turned away, he wanted to finish his mission but he didn’t want to face an even worse wrath of Ursula then he already would be facing and just left without saying a word.

Steve came out of his shock and ran over to Peter who was still on his back in the side of the now crushed car.

“Who was that sir?” A groggy Peter asked.

“Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes. An old friend.” Steve said sorrow laced every word.

“If he’s your friend, then why did he just try to kill you?” Peter asked as he dusted himself off for the second time that day.

“It must’ve been HYDRA. And that means if Bucky is still alive then-“ Steve’s eyes widened at the realization.

“Then what? What happened?” Peter asked.

“We need to get back to Stark. Now!”

—

“I think it’s time for Y/N to see her family again after all these years. Don’t you?” She chuckled.

“Shouldn’t we have her go to the lab and get injected with the perfected serum first?” The doctor asked Ursula.

“No!” She snapped. “That girl will have tests ran on here by those morons in capes if she’s caught!” Ursula yelled pointing towards the door that Otto took you through. “That’s why, we didn’t do a complete memory wipe for her like we did to the Sargent.” Ursula’s dark red colored lips were pulled into a smirk as she thought back to the videos of the making of ‘The New Fist of HYDRA’. All the sounds of pain and anguish coming from his lips was music to her ears.

“Do you really think she will still be worthy?”

“Yes. See the thing about the hammer of Odinson, is once you’re worthy, you’ll always be worthy. And if that scrawny little girl can lift it and Steve Rodgers, THE biggest pain in HYDRA’s ass, couldn’t. Then she just must be special.”

“Will we send her out soon?” The doctor asked changing the subject.

“Yes. We will.” She said turning her back to the man “doctor?” She asked as she looked down at his control panel to see pictures of the Avengers.

“Yes Ms. Ursula?” The man in the lab coat said.

“How recent are these photos?” She asked as her eyes focused on one photo in particular.

“The ones on the control panel are from about 10 minutes ago. May I ask why miss?”

The femal HYDRA agent smirked as she picked up a photo. It was a photo of a young boy not much older than Y/N, running into a Queens deli shop and with a poorly disguised Steve Rodgers in a blue hoodie and sunglasses. “I just thought it was time for our favorite Ghost makes a little visit to an old friend.” The HYDRA agent smirks as she uncrosses her arms and picks up the photo chuckling. “Oh and send our new soldier into combat training with Prisoner #66990”

“But she won’t stand a chance! She’ll be knocked out within a couple of minutes.”

“That’s what I’m planning on.” Ursula said as the sides of her dark red lips were pulled into a smirk.

—

“Bucky’s alive!” Steve said as he and Peter walked into the compound to be met with the man he was looking for, Tony Stark.

“Who the hell is Bucky?”

“He was my friend when we fought HYDRA back in World War II.”

“Oh wait was that the guy who fell off the train?”

“Yeah and died, or so I thought.” Steve said sadly.

“I’m sorry, but are you sure it was him?”

“Yes! Think I’d know if was my b-”

“Wait a minute!” Peter said walking from behind the blonde solider. “What if when Bucky supposedly died back in 1945, HYDRA took him as a P.O.W and messed with his brain; forcing him to become some sort of assassin for them.” Peter stopped and looked around the room to be met with an intrigued Steve Rodgers and Tony Stark, their eyes pushing him to continue. “And if they kept Bucky a secret for all this time, who’s to say that they’re not doing the same thing with Y/N? They took away someone who meant a lot to Mr. Rodgers before, maybe they’re doing it again but to Mr. Stark this time? You know? Hitting you were it hurts the most?”

“That does make the most sense Tony” Steve said crossing his arms. “A lot of people would like to either see your head on a silver platter, or see Stark Industries burn, with you in it.”

“Even though that does make sense, if they ‘want to hit me where it hurts’ wouldn’t they take one of my suits and try to replicate it? Why take Y/N?” Tony said walking across the room to sit down and think, causing the room to become deathly silent while the other two Avengers try to read the inventor’s facial expression as they could practically see the cogs turning in Tony Stark’s brain.

“Mr. Stark I’m sensing a heat signature in the elevator on its way up to you” F.R.I.D.A.Y’s Irish voice rang out startling Peter.

“Who is it?” Tony confusedly asked the A.I. as he got out of the seat he just took.

“I can’t tell. I’m afraid they’re to injured.” The A.I. replies. As if on qué the elevator sings letting the three men know, that they were about to meet the mystery person. The doors opened and out they came. Their face, chest, and arms were covered in dark dried blood, hair was like a bird’s nest including the leaves and twigs. And their breathing was so heavy and erratic they sounded like they had just ran and won a marathon.

“Y/N?” The three men said in unison before you collapsed.

Part 5

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@morgannope @itsmyfuneralokay @ladysergeantbarnes @fandomsfavorite @andreuskystuff @my-foot-pussy @huffleshufflebitch @what-thefrick-frack @spider-mendes @bosslibrarian123 @smexylemony @lemirabitur @inlovewithmobtom

Don’t Forget us taglist:

@nerdofthehighestcalibre @marauders-trash-forever @wow-thatsnice @ixchel-9275 @bbangtanpink @darlingbanshee @mamb625 @drabblequeen @littlemissendlessdreamer @spideymood @tommyhoe @starshipofhope @angelface1927 @made-of-kevlar @xblackbeak-witchx @irondad-spiderson-duo @thanosismybitxh @livelifecaerazy @slythxr @helloilovethemcu @thefooolonthehill @maybeidontwannachooseaname @omalleysreads @hollandcentral @multifandomshitblog @starkviibes @pearletstrixya @southsidesweetheart @creation-magician @nightynightnyx @i-luv-doggos @espacioytiempo @greenarrowhead @spnsoap @strangerthanpluto @m4shtyx @lourdesamanda @h4lfaheart @notyoursterotypicalnerd @feelingsareharddd @maddieisaacs @soccerstud004

Peter Parker taglist:

@lexi-laz @peterfuckingbenjaminparker

[thelunarbond]

5, 7, 8, 9, 12, 13, 15 for everyone? (also, feel free to switch between IC and OOC for the questions depending on which you feel would work better)

Your OC meets a magical talking frog with a quest, what is your OC’s next move?

Yume: Will do anything for the magical talking frog, and will take up its quest almost immediately

Chase: Ignores the frog completely, doesn’t even notice that it’s talking

Lavender: Gets grossed out by the frog as frogs are slimy and ugly in her opinion, but will probably do the quest anyway

Minami: IS VERY EXCITED AS SHE LOVES MAGICAL CREATURES and is super happy to meet one in real life! She’ll definitely do her best to do the quest

Alexis: Wonders how the frog got into her room in the first place. Once she realised that it’s talking she’ll probably put it outside and leave it there

Phoenix: Unholy screeching, followed by him running away as fast as his legs can carry him

Your OC is running from the guards, why are they most likely running from them?

Yume: Stealing something valuable, like jewels

Chase: Using his sarcasm and dry humour to start a fight with the guard’s boss

Lavender: Breaking something of high importance

Minami: Breaking someone she cares about out of jail

Alexis: Waving a sword around

Phoenix: Multiple unfortunate occurrences that get out of control, such as falling over and then breaking something and then finding valuables in his pockets before standing on the guard’s foot as he leaves

How would your OC describe their best friend using three words to a stranger?

💙 Yume 💙 :

“Cool, suave, bossy! …If Chase hears me call him bossy he’s gonna yell at me, please don’t tell him I said that!”

Chase:

“Short, eccentric, reliable. Now, what did Yume say about me?”

Lavender 💐 :

“Best friend? I hate choosing a best friend! They’re all good for different reasons! But… I suppose I’ll say talented, stylish and funny!”

(Lavender’s best friend is an OC I haven’t introduced yet 👀 -zee)

💕Minami 💕:

“He’s… quiet, complex and clever. I don’t know if Phoenix will describe me as his best friend but I feel like he’s mine! I hope he thinks we’re best friends.”

Alexis 🎮:

“This is super awkward. I don’t want to use a specific member of the Lunar Bond for this activity cuz I don’t know if I’m anyone’s best friend and if they don’t use me as their best friend then it’d be super embarrassing and I’ll feel like an idiot-”

Phoenix:

“B-Best friend? Hmm… Don’t tell Minami I used her for this, but she’s kind, strong and calming. I feel the most relaxed when I’m with her. Please don’t tell her any of this or I’ll actually disintegrate with embarrassment.”

Your OC decides they can dye their own hair, with their very little knowledge about hair, how does this go? Do they have their friends with them, supporting them? Do they do it when they are alone? Do they do it before a big and upcoming event?

Yume: It goes surprisingly well, considering how reckless he is with everything else in his life. He’d choose a vibrant, out there colour like neon green or dark blue, and he’d do it before going to a big event like a party. He most likely invited Chase over for moral support and he spends the whole time making sarcastic comments that he looks like a coloured marker; Yume wouldn’t take any notice of them and be in love with his new look

Chase: It goes well for Chase, however this is unsurprising considering how meticulous he is about everything. He’d make sure to follow the instructions by the letter in order to get it perfect. He’d dye his hair a fairly normal colour, most likely black or dark brown, to make a change from it’s natural dark red. He wouldn’t dye his hair before a big event as despite the fact that he followed the instructions perfectly, he would be afraid of it getting messed up and having photos of it haunt him forever. He’d dye his hair while he’s alone so he can concentrate better

Lavender: It would be a mess. She’d get hair dye all over her bathroom, her clothes and her skin, and it wouldn’t be the colour she intended it to be and it’d be covered in gaps. She’d want her hair to be a pastel pink but it’d come out dark pink or off red as she didn’t follow the instructions properly. She’d most likely have a group of friends there to help out and support her, and she’d cry on their shoulders about her “ugly” hair, and how its never going to be the same again, and they’ll remind her that hair grows back. She’d definitely dye her hair before a big event and then feel like an idiot afterwards

Minami: She always has pink dyed tips so dying her full head would be a breeze, as her sister taught her how to dye hair anyway. She’d choose a light colour, such as mint or light blue. She’d most likely have Phoenix there to talk to while she does it, and she’d offer to dye his while she was doing it (he’d always say no.) She always dyes her hair anyway so it would most likely be dyed before an event

Alexis: It’d turn out okay for a first attempt, not amazing but not horrific either. She’d probably have forgotten the roots but nothing too awful. She’d always dye her hair while she was alone because she would be scared of someone making mean comments about it or not liking it. She’d dye her hair a dark colour, such as dark purple, black or dark red, as her hair is naturally dark anyway. Alexis doesn’t go to big events unless they’re online so she wouldn’t dye her hair before a typical “big event”

Phoenix: He may be academically gifted, but he has no common sense. Because of this, dying his hair would be a disaster (but not to the same degree as Lavender). It’d be the intended colour, which would most likely be black or blue, but wouldn’t be evenly covered. He’d have Minami there to tell him how to do it, and would refuse every time she offered to just do it for him. He’d then be massively embarrassed and try and wash it out until finally letting Minami fix it. He’d never dye his hair before an event as he’d be afraid of what others would say.

What is something completely random about your OC that even you, as the writer, find confusing?

I don’t really get this question, as I wouldn’t write something into my characters that would confuse me 😅 Sorry!

How does your OC celebrate their birthday? What is their wildest birthday story?

💙 Yume  💙 :

“I invite all my friends to the beach and we stay there all night! Bonfires, night swimming in the ocean, ghost stories, cave exploring, sleeping under the stars… It’s the best! I celebrate my birthday like that every year! And I have a lot of wild stories from my past birthday parties. Back when I lived with my parents, we took my dad’s speedboat out and ended up staying the night in a cave far from where we were meant to stay. My parents weren’t impressed, but dad shouldn’t have made his keys so easy to steal, y’know?”

Chase:

“I celebrate my birthday differently every year, it’d be boring otherwise. For my last birthday, I went abroad with my friends and went to a load of foreign clubs. I have no idea how we managed to get Yume into all of them, but we did. My wildest birthday story, huh… There’s been a few, but it has to be the time my parents were away and we partied in my house all night. When they came home they found Yume and a few other friends asleep outside on the lawn, and a few other friends were playing video games in the living room, and some were passed out in the kitchen… We didn’t even drink back then, we were just wild kids!”

Lavender 💐: 

“I invite my best friends over for a sleepover at my house! We order pizza, we’ll play some dance games, we’ll gossip until like 2am before we go to sleep and wake up early the next day to go to a cafe and get pancakes for breakfast! There was one time when my friend was talking about the boy she had a crush on, and we prank called him! That was so funny because in the end, they ended up actually getting together!”

💕Minami 💕:

“I like to go out for a nice meal for my birthday. I invite maybe a couple of close friends and we have a chilled out time. I don’t really like inviting a lot of people because then I get scared I’m leaving someone out of the conversation. I’m not really a wild party animal so I don’t have any crazy birthday stories like Yume or Chase have, but there was one time where the waiter was bringing out my birthday cake and everyone sang happy birthday, and then she dropped it on the floor face down. I felt bad for the waiter more than anything!”

Alexis 🎮:

“…I don’t really celebrate my birthday. It’s a day just like any other. However I do like the bonuses I get in my games on my birthday. The craziest birthday story I have is that one time I slept all the way through my birthday because I pulled an all nighter playing a game with some online friends.”

Phoenix:

“I don’t do anything too crazy for my birthday, but I might buy some takeout for dinner and watch a film while I eat it. On my last birthday Minami came over and we played some games together as well, it was… pretty fun. We ended up talking about random stuff until 4am, and she stayed over on the couch. There was one time when I was a young kid when my parents took me to an outdoor maze for my birthday and I got lost for 5 hours on my own. I haven’t been in a maze since…”

Your OC now gets to strut around in a cape, what colour is the cape and what do they accessorize the cape with? 

Yume: a dark blue cape that has a white fur trim, and is intricately decorated in sparkles. He’d wear a crown and big platform boots with it and feel like a QUEEN

Chase: A maroon red cape fit for royalty. He’d definitely carry a sceptre and feel like he’s the best person in the whole world

Lavender: A pink, faux fur cape that has a hood with animal ears on it. It’s most likely part of a lolita coordinate she’s put together for the colder winter months

Minami: A long, gold, silky cape. She’d wear a flowy dress underneath and enjoy spinning around and watching the fabric flutter

Alexis: A long, black cape with feathers on it. She’d march around her room still wearing her jogging bottoms and vest shirt but with the cape on, and she’d feel like a cartoon villain

Phoenix: A light blue, slightly opalescent cape. He’d wear sandals and loose clothes and feel like a mythical river being (but he wouldn’t tell anyone that)

Sorry it took so long for me to get around to this! I’ve been a little busy over the past few days (RIP)

[spideydaddyboy]

The Red Sweatshirt Re-write Chapter 1

I felt like the fic I wrote awhile back was pretty weak but held a good storyline that needed a bit of spicy-spice to the sauce. So this is post-Hawkmoth defeat but Pre-reveal! I am still working on my writing skills so bear with me on this one! Enjoy Miraculers!

I believe I tagged @pozolegirl last time so I think I will again! THANK YOU FOR THE INSPO!

~

Hawkmoth was gone and Marinette was back to being Marinette. There was no need for Ladybug and Chat Noir anywhere. Even for the little crimes, Chat wouldn’t show up. Luckily Marinette could rely on her other partners, Queen Bee and Rena Rogue, or else she’d be drowning in petty thefts and robberies all day long. Even so, she held an emptiness without her leather clad partner, incomplete; and she hated it. When Master Fu had relayed the choice Chat Noir had made, it stung that he didn’t feel he could confide in Ladybug. Even though she couldn’t understand the base of his decision, she did understand one thing-Chat Noir wanted nothing to do with Ladybug anymore.

“Tikki,” Marinette murmured, her kwami flew from her hiding spot to rest on her holders knuckles. “Do…do you think it’s time for me to give up my miraculous? Give them back to Master Fu?

The red spotted bug looked concerned, “no not yet. You never know when Paris might need you against another super villain! And maybe-!”

“Wouldn’t it have already happened by now? It has been nearly a year and a half since we’ve defeated Hawkmoth and nothing big has happened! Chat Noir obviously gave his miraculous back-”

“You don’t know that Mari!”

“-so what’s the point of keeping mine?”

The bluenette yanked open the trap door leading up to her balcony and marched outside, the humid summer air and a light sprinkle of warm air washed over her face, “where could he be Tikki?” She whispered, an ache throbbed in her chest and she feared she was suffering from a breaking heart.

“If it makes you feel any better Marinette…he hasn’t given up his miraculous…I can sense it and he’s closer than you think.”

The dusk began to settle over Paris like a dark cloud, like Marinette’s grief settled over her heart. The loss of a hero, a partner, and a friend. Taking down Hawkmoth was supposed to be a joyous victory for Ladybug and Chat Noir, but it seemed to benefit them the least.

“Tikki,” Marinette whispered as her tears began to mix with the rain on her lips. “Spots on..”

~

“Adrien?” Natalie called through a closed door, “would you like to run to the Dupain-Cheng’s bakery with me? I am picking up some croissants and you can get those macaroons you like so much as well!”

A muffled response strained through the thick wood, “…when?”

“In about twenty minutes or so…would you like to go?” Natalie gave an eager and hopeful reply, “your friend Marinette, you could visit her, Sabine mentioned she misses you.”

Adrien sat up on his bed and blinked in the darkness of his bedroom, “she said that?”

“Well y-yes-”

“No did Marinette actually say that?” He ran pale slender fingers through his choppy blonde hair.

“Um…Sabine-”

“Then no.”

Natalie became frantic, her voice strangled and clipped, “she also mentioned Marinette’s been miserable with Alya’s internship taking up all their time to spend together, she’s stuck in her room all day, just like you-” a pause as Natalie bit her tongue at her word choice. “I-it sounds like you could both use a friend right now.” She recovered.

The model mulled over his decision as he absentmindedly rubbed his ring out of habit. Plagg gesticulated wildly and swung his arms at the door, but Adrien only shook his head as of to say ‘not right now’. He had left his friends so sudden, of course they had to have understood, he was now related to Super Villain numéro un of Paris. Before, Adrien had been aching to get out of his house, to do new things and meet new people, and he did. He met Nino, Marinette and Alya, his best friends. He had met Ladybug, the love of his life, but now that the world knew of his families freshest secret wound, he had yet to leave his house publically. Of course he’d have Nino over every once in awhile, and he still modeled for his father’s dying brand, but other than that he’d become a household mystery. Adrien Agreste; boy turned ghost.

“You gotta get out and do something kid…” Plagg patted the blonde’s cheek and hid behind his mound of fresh camembert.

“What was that Adrien?” Natalie strained to hear through the door and startled him.

Small green eyes peeked over and stared into Adrien’s, “just give me a minute Natalie and I will meet you downstairs.”

~

Ladybug was soaked from the rain as she swung rooftop to rooftop, aimlessly searching for something she knew she wouldn’t find. With every slap of her feet on concrete, it reverberated through her bones, and numbed the pain she was already feeling. Out of subconscious she found herself at the Agreste mansion, and stared at the huge cold structure that haunted her nightmares. She could see it now, that day that she had discovered Gabriel Agreste’s secret. Her, Alya, and Nino had been over for a group assignment. Although it had been decided Mr. Agreste was off the suspects list, Rena Rogue had thought differently. Marinette had gotten a call from Rena, and since Alya had gone to the bathroom prompting a hold on the project, Marinette found it appropriate to take the call outside the hall. The fox rambled about a secret room in Gabriel’s study and told Ladybug to get over there ASAP. Marinette checked to see if the group had kept working on the project but Alya was still taking her time in the restroom as usual.

When she had joined her other partner in the dark eerie viewpoint, she had called on Chat Noir, but he had missed her call, so she left a message. Their investigation didn’t last long as Gabriel(as Hawkmoth) discovered them, and seeing the love of her life’s already cold father as the number one super villain in Paris made her stomach turn over. A battle ensued to which Chat Noir and Queen Bee joined, rather annoyingly late. It was in the final moments that Ladybug sensed a vulnerability in Gabriel Agreste she had never seen before, in an exchange between him and Chat Noir. A flash of remorse, guilt, maybe, but only for a moment as he ripped the ring off of Chat Noirs finger with a sickening crack. Chat’s transformation dropped, but all Ladybug could see was red, the red of her yoyo wrapping around Hawkmoth’s neck and slamming him into the ground where he levitated. The brooch was easy to take from the limp fashion mogul and it was over. Ladybug felt light, but when she turned to share the victory with her partner, he was gone.

The slam of a door woke Ladybug from her daydream, and below she watched as Natalie made her way to the iconic silver Agreste car from her early lycée memories. Behind her shuffled Adrien, dressed in a bright red sweatshirt with the hood flipped up and covering his golden hair. It had felt like forever since she had seen her crush, but instead of a flutter of the heart, a pang of guilt stabbed her in the stomach. As if he had sensed her sudden ache, he turned his eyes up to where she stood on the rooftop over, green met blue. They stood there for what seemed like forever, but was only a couple of seconds. Natalie called Adrien to the car and with a tight face he turned away, a similar feeling piercing his side as he slid into the  car. When he looked back through the gate to his partner, she was gone.

[forestwater87]

Camp Camp Secret Santa 2017

Happy Holidays to @conky-in-action! It was so much fun to participate in this year’s @campcamp-secretsanta, and I hope you enjoy this little fic!

(Credit for the brilliant Christmas tree idea goes to @hopefullypessimistic84, who helped me out of a serious rut, writing-wise.)

“For Christ’s sake, let me g --”

“Your scarf is dragging, Max! Just -- stop -- for a second --”

“It’s a thousand degrees!”

Gwen glanced up from her phone, abandoning the “I’m here” text she’d been about to send David. She’d been worrying about how she would be able to find them in the crush of people thronging the train station, but of course she should’ve realized they wouldn’t be hard to find. “Guys?” she called, pocketing her phone and tightening her grip on her bag.

David’s head popped up over the crowd -- a second’s flash of a robin’s egg blue pompom bouncing into the air -- and then he was pushing through the throng, nearly tripping over his own feet and several others’ before stumbling to a halt in front of her. “Gwen!” he cried, flinging one arm around her with the other awkwardly held out behind him. “It’s so good to see you! Max!” His body twisted in the direction of his outstretched arm, gently tugging Max forward. “Look who’s here!”

Max rolled his eyes, shuffling his feet but letting himself be drawn into the hug by David’s mittened hand in his. “So? She’s here all the time.”

David had cajoled his young houseguest into full winter gear this month, Gwen noticed; last time it had been a constant battle of shed clothing and loud arguments. And judging by the way Max’s scarf was only loosely draped around his neck, both ends soaked and filthy and threatening to trip him with every step, it was a fight David had only barely won. She resisted the urge to kneel down as he approached, knowing it’d only make his mood more sour. “Nice to see you too, asshole.”

David frowned, but Max’s eyes flicked up to meet hers, and she could’ve sworn she saw the ghost of a smirk cross his face for a second.

“Come on, guys, it’s Christmas! We’ve never all been together for Christmas like this! Isn’t that special?”

“Maybe if you stopped shoving holiday bullshit down our throats,” Max muttered, yanking his hand free and shoving them in his coat pockets.

She glanced over at David, watching the sunshine in his face fight with worry and plain sullen disappointment. They’d talked about Max’s increasing bad mood as Christmas drew closer, over text and phone and Facebook and email (and even the occasional concerned snap; she was pretty sure he would’ve sent his fears of being a good guardian by carrier pigeon if he’d known how). She was of the opinion that Max was a kid and kids were assholes, but David was convinced there was something deeper going on.

Judging by the frustration that drew his eyebrows together and thinned his lips, he hadn’t hunted down that “something” just yet.

Gwen bumped his shoulder with her own. “You okay, David?”

He started, shaking his head with a small laugh. The lines on his face smoothed away and he fixed her with a bright smile. “Of course I am!” he replied, picking up her bag and slinging it over his shoulder. “I have my favorite people in the world with me --”

“I can take that, you don’t have to carry it --”

“-- and it’s the best time of the year! Besides summer, of course!” Ignoring her halfhearted protests, he stared Max down until the boy sighed and accepted his proffered hand -- then extended the stare to Gwen, who was familiar enough with this routine to snag Max’s other hand -- then led the way off the train platform. “I’ve never been happier!”

“Has he been like this the whole time?” she asked Max quietly, letting David bounce along without noticing they weren’t listening.

Max glared up at her from under his hat; bright red with a white puffball on the end, it perched on his curls like a big floppy pancake. (She wondered idly if he or David had made it, and which of them was the better knitter by now.) “What the fuck do you think?”

Gwen was a little proud of herself for not taking his irritation personally. Besides, David’s behavior was a bit more worrying at the moment. He’d always been a bit manic, but . . . “How’re you holding up?”

He shrugged as well as he could, considering both his hands were captive. “Fine, I guess? I don’t --”

“Okay, gang!” David cut in, “let me go get the car so you don’t have to walk through the snow! Wait right here! Don’t go anywhere!”

They both watched him bound away, nearly slipping on a section of poorly-salted ice before catching himself and running to the parking lot. Finally Max said, “Listen, I get this ‘how are you feeling?’ shit from him all the time. Can you give it a rest for a couple days?”

“I meant, how are you doing with him? I . . . know he can be kinda hard to take.”

Max glanced over at her, face scrunching in surprise. “Oh,” he said. “I mean, he’s okay I guess. Could be worse.”

Biting the inside of her cheek, Gwen looked out at the traffic, feigning disinterest. “I can’t believe you haven’t killed him yet over this ‘festive cheer’ stuff. I would’ve.”

“No, seriously, he’s fine.” He scuffed at the salty sidewalk. “It’s nice not being the only house without Christmas lights. At least he gives a shit.”

His voice was quiet, shy but also prickly with defensiveness, and she decided she’d pushed hard enough. “Can’t wait to get to see the place. Knowing him, you’d probably notice it from orbit.”

Max snorted. “We got letters from the neighbors threatening to call the cops because they couldn’t sleep. Took all weekend to convince David to take some of the lights down.” He smirked up at her with the see-what-I’m-dealing-with? expression that’d become their primary mode of communication over the past few months, and the tension between them dissolved.

As David’s beaten-up car rumbled to a stop in front of them -- spraying everyone waiting at the curb with slush -- she ducked into the front seat with a mixture of satisfaction and disappointment.

Satisfaction, because she might not have used her degree much since graduation, but she could still pull a mean reverse psychology when she had to.

Disappointment, because it seemed like maybe there was something deeper than general kid dickishness going on here.

And Max of all kids didn’t need another reason to wake up scowling.

“So how should we start?” David clapped his hands between his knees and leaned forward so far he nearly tipped his chair over. His leg was bouncing hard enough to make the furniture shake. “We need a tree, or we can bake cookies -- ooh, or we can make a big Christmas dinner -- or go to the movies -- what about ice skating?” Sitting up straight, he covered his mouth with both hands. “There’s so much to do! I’m so excited!”

Max groaned, but didn’t look up from his phone. Gwen was inclined to agree -- after the train ride up here she wanted nothing more than to collapse on the couch and not move for at least five hours -- but she saw the way David’s hair was sticking up a bit too much (a symptom of combing his fingers through it obsessively) and the slightly manic glint to his smile. After years of working together in unnecessarily stressful situations, too many of them involving grenades, she was pretty familiar with his “I’m hanging onto the end of my rope with my fingernails” look. So she scraped a bit more enthusiasm from deep in her stomach and said, “I mean, this place looks basically perfect, but it’s a little weird without a tree. And it’d be nice to get outside while it’s still light.”

Max’s head shot up, a look resembling betrayal flashing across his face. Then he shrugged and glanced back down at his phone. “Whatever. I mean it’s not like we don’t have enough decorations.”

“But a tree is the most important one!” David sprang to his feet, taking Gwen’s hands and tugging her up as well. “What a great idea, Gwen!”

“Why don’t you guys already have a tree?” she asked quietly as he held the door open for her, Max stomping ahead with his hood pulled over his face and his hands in his pockets.

He frowned, his gaze miles away and his face lined with worry. “The last couple months have been . . . hard. He was so happy on Halloween, and I thought things were looking up, but . . .” David sighed, running a gloved hand through his hair and wincing at the way his fringe crackled with static and clung to his forehead. “I just don’t know anymore.”

“Maybe you’re too close to it?” she suggested, and his eyes finally snapped to hers. “I mean, I know he’s a little shit, but he seems a lot better than he was in August. And it’s a hell of an improvement over Thanksgiving, right?”

“I guess so,” he said, shaking his head with a small chuckle. They’d invited Gwen down for the holiday that year, and she’d made the mistake of thinking the two of them and David’s mother would be less hectic than her own family. The evening had ended with Max sulking on the roof after having thrown the entire turkey at David’s head -- David’s mom, working with middle schoolers for a living, had been the only one able to eventually coax him in out of the cold -- and his legal guardian crying on the living-room floor surrounded by destroyed poultry while Gwen tried to scrub gravy out of the carpet and occasionally brought him napkins. (She wasn’t great at comforting people, and had been immeasurably relieved when the others had returned from the roof, so she could snag Max for cleanup duty and leave the emotional support to David’s mom.) From what she could tell, things had been much smoother since then. “Maybe I’m expecting too much of him.”

“Yeah, probably,” she said with a snort, then cringed at the hurt look on his face. “I mean, he’s . . . like, no amount of love is going to stop him from being an asshole. That’s kinda how he is. I know you think I’m too hard on him --” she added quickly as he opened his mouth; he obediently shut it and looked down. “-- but you can’t explain away his entire personality with ‘his parents are fuckups,’ David. Some of that is just how he is, and he has to know you’re gonna like him anyway. I mean . . . right? You know?”

She stuttered to a halt, suddenly aware of how long she’d been talking. Christ, she hadn’t given a speech like that since Nurf’s day back at camp. But that time she’d been asked how to make Nurf open up, instead of just spouting her unwanted opinions at a struggling father.

She opened her mouth to apologize, because David certainly didn’t need two jerks in his life and it wasn’t like she really knew the situation anyway and they were barely even friends, really -- but before she could she was smacked in the face with a blue pom-pom, inhaling wool in the split second before David’s arms tightened around her hard enough to cut off her ability to breathe at all.

“Thank you, Gwen,” he mumbled into her shoulder, his voice muffled by the puffy coat he’d insisted she put on (because hers was apparently not good enough). “You always know what to say.”

That . . . seemed like a generous interpretation -- she would’ve gone with “you always put your foot in your mouth” -- but she wasn’t going to complain. Her mobility was limited somewhat by the dense down jacket, but she managed to hook an arm around his skinny frame and awkwardly pat his back. “Hey,” she began, then realized she didn’t know how to finish that and just let it dangle in the air: “Heyyy . . .”

David laughed quietly, turning his head toward her so he could breathe more easily. “Hi.”

He didn’t let go, and after a couple moments she said, “Max doesn’t hug much, huh?”

“How could you tell?”

She rolled her eyes. “Call it a hunch.” She let him cling like that for another few seconds -- she hadn’t been hugged in a while either, and she had to admit it was kinda nice -- then shrugged him off. “Come on, moron. He’s probably freezing to death out there.”

His eyes widened in alarm, looking much more teal than green thanks to the blue wool hat that framed his face. “Golly, you’re right! Let’s go!” He snagged her hand without thinking, turning and rushing down the hall with the pom-poms dangling from his hat’s ear-flaps trailing behind him (and nearly hitting her, again, with each step).

“Slow down, David!” she shouted, but the irritation in her voice was entirely fake.

She’d tolerate a lot, she was slowly learning, to keep a smile on that idiot’s face.

“What kind of tree do you want, Max?” After almost an hour of trying and failing to get Max to show any sort of enthusiasm, David’s cheer was definitely strained. He kept opening and closing his hands, like he was trying to keep the blood circulating in the cold weather . . . or like he was trying very very hard not to let them clench into fists.

Max didn’t look up from his phone, deftly bystepping a gooey-eyed couple. “I dunno. Maybe a fake one, so we don’t kill a perfectly healthy tree for no good reason.”

“But . . .” David trailed off, closing his eyes and opening his mittened hands again. His nostrils flared slightly as he took a deep, calming breath, then said, “Well, buddy, it would’ve been good to know that before we got here! But since we’re already in out here surrounded by all this beautiful nature --” he gestured grandly at the neat rows of trees that spread out like the spokes of a wheel from where they were standing -- “why don’t we bring some of it home, what do you say?”

Max just shrugged, smirked at something on his phone, and kept walking. His small boots cut through the powdery snow without really picking up off the ground, leaving two lines that trailed behind him as he wandered through the lot.

David took another deep breath -- she was starting to wonder if that was doing him any good -- and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I forgot how he gets when we have company,” he finally muttered to Gwen, most of the golly-gee! quality of his voice gone. “It’s like he needs to prove he’s still . . .”

“Satan?” she offered helpfully.

“Difficult,” he finished, and for a moment they watched the mop of black hair weave through the trees. “But it’s okay! We’ll just have to help him.”

“Help him what --” She was interrupted by a wheeze as he grabbed her hand and tugged her forward, plowing through the snow at a half-jog that sprayed glittering white over everyone they ran past.

“Max, Max! What about that one?”

“Still don’t care.”

They were getting along better, Gwen thought, watching David attempt to rescue the trailing ends of Max’s scarf and wrap them around their supremely disinterested owner. The tension between them felt brittler, always on the verge of crackling and falling away; when Max told his guardian to go to hell, it lacked the bite of sincerity.

She wouldn’t call their dynamic playful, and David certainly didn’t seem amused by his attitude, but it was . . . softer, somehow. Like the malice was a little less genuine, and the underlying affection a little closer to the surface.

Still, that didn’t mean he wasn’t a little shitstain. And she was getting cold.

“David, they’re literally all the exact same, so just pick one and --”

“What about that one?” she interrupted, pointing at a tree at the very corner of the lot. It was thin and brown, a carpet of shed needles lying in a circle around its base. It listed to one side, the tip drooping toward the ground like a sad dog.

David frowned, his eyes narrowing. “Gwen, I don’t think --”

“Trust me,” she hissed, stepping close enough to whisper and taking his elbow. Making sure Max wasn’t looking, she pinched his upper arm for good measure (not that he could feel it through his absurdly thick wool coat).

He frowned, but laid one hand overtop hers, stepping closer to the tree. “Well, it does have personality,” he began doubtfully. Then something lit up behind his eyes and he beamed. “It’s so unique!”

Max looked up, his eyes widening incredulously as Gwen tugged away from David’s arm and walked around the zombie tree in a large circle. She deliberately ignored him. “It’ll probably be pretty cheap, so maybe we could get a couple of ‘em.”

“What a great idea! Let’s go see if there are any others like this!”

“You’re fucking kidding me, right?”

They both turned to Max, Gwen biting the inside of her cheek to keep her expression neutral. 

“You’re not seriously thinking of bringing that thing into our house, right? It’s probably got termites or something!”

“I don’t think termites are around much in winter --” she began, but Max cut her off with an exasperated scoff.

“Thirty-fucking-thousand trees here, and you had to pick out the worst one!”

David put his hands on his hips, cocking his head to the side and giving Max a stern look. “It’s cost-effective! And every tree deserves a home!”

“Jesus, what is it with you and always wanting shit no one . . . else does.” His voice dropped and so did his eyes. He scuffed his toe through the fluffy snow, kicking up a mist of sparkles.

David and Gwen’s eyes met, and she nodded with a weak shrug.

They’d found “something.”

“Listen.” Max broke them out of a silence that had crossed into “uncomfortable” territory. He still wasn’t looking at them, his hands shoved in his pockets as he stood on tiptoe and tried to peer around at the entire lot. “If you guys wanna turn our house into the Island of Misfit Trees, whatever, I don’t care. But if Neil and Nikki are coming over, I want one that doesn’t look like it needs somebody to pull the plug. I figured even you guys would be smart enough to pick out a Christmas tree, but apparently none of those useless degrees of Gwen’s were in common sense . . .” Continuing to mutter to himself, Max began prowling around the lot again, but this time when he pulled out his phone, it was to several pictures of various trees before . . . well, she wasn’t going to look over his shoulder, but the upward twitch of his lips made her think she was texting his best friends.

They lagged behind, letting him scurry from one tree to another -- pausing at a prospect, snapping a photo, and then turning his attention to his phone screen. “Not bad,” she said, bending down to pick up one of Max’s knitted gloves (which he’d tossed in frustration after a few fruitless attempts to take photographs with them on). “He’s involved, at least.”

“That was a good idea, Gwen!” David rocked back on his heels, smiling as he watched Max continue the tree hunt. “Now, can you keep an eye on him while I . . .”

She glanced over and he was pulling an axe from behind his back; like his ever-handy guitar, she wondered where on earth he’d kept it. “Wait, are you seriously gonna cut down that piece of garbage?”

“The more I think about it, the more I like it! Maybe just one, but . . .” His voice softened, like he was self-conscious. “I mean, every tree does deserve a home, right?”

She rolled her eyes, but as he knocked down the tree -- it only took one swing of his axe, and the sound was like cracking knuckles; she refused to be impressed -- she couldn’t help thinking about what Max had said. “What is it with you and losers, anyway?” He glanced up at her with a puzzled frown, hoisting the dying tree over one shoulder, and she added, “like you just seem to . . . collect lame shit no one cares about. Like Camp Campbell, and Max and me --”

“Well for starters I’d never call Camp Campbell lame,” David chided. “And neither are you and Max! He’s not a dying tree, he’s . . . a sapling! He’s full of potential and just needs some guidance and growth!” Looking absurdly proud of this analogy, he followed the twin lines of shuffling footsteps and Max’s loud voice (apparently the tree selection process had progressed beyond texts and he needed real-time feedback).

Gwen hurried to keep up, nearly tripping in the thickening snow. “I think this girl and I have a lot in common,” she teased, gently patting their tree and wincing as a small cascade of dead needles crackled to the ground. “Old, dried-up, practically dead . . .”

“That’s not fair.”

She snorted. “True. At least someone wants this thing.”

“I’m serious, Gwen.” His voice was earnest, painfully so, and they’d both sort of awkwardly stumbled to a halt as he hooked his axe onto his belt and fumbled for her hand. “You’re green and you don’t even know it.”

It was embarrassing, his sincerity, so she shrugged his hand away and gave him a self-conscious laugh. “Come on, CBFL. Let’s go find your camper.”

The rest of the evening went smoother. Max, having decided they couldn’t be trusted with any aesthetic decisions, had forced David to house the “ugly tree” in the kitchen and took over decorating the monstrously huge fir he’d picked out. Unfortunately, his height made it difficult to reach more than half of the tree, so he’d constructed a series of shaky towers out of chairs, couch cushions, and wishes. Gwen curled up on the couch with a mug of eggnog, watching him scramble from one platform to another.

David probably wouldn’t be happy that she was letting Max do something so dangerous, but hell, she wasn’t his mother. Besides, she knew enough first and second aid that she could deal with it if the kid split his head open.

Until that happened, she wasn’t planning on moving a muscle.

David came bouncing out of the kitchen, his arms loaded down with food. “I didn’t have much time to prepare something really special, but we have -- Max! That’s dangerous!” (Gwen carefully avoided the glare she could feel being shot at her from his direction. “Why didn’t you ask one of us to lift you?”

“Touch me and die, Camp Man.”

She set her drink on the table and stretched out along the couch.

Once you got used to it, their arguing made a hell of a lullaby.