#and i just got a completely harmless post muted

[quaddmgd]

tumblr live showed up on my dash for the first time. it's fucking atrocious.

and you can't just get rid of it - only snooze it. there's no such thing as consent in modern software until it's legally required

[vt-head]

i saw your post about Error X and im wondering if i can know more about this silly man (and a potential colored ref sheet about him too) :0? he looks so cool!

Here you go, pal! The boy is here!

This silly boy has a lot of backstory but at the same time it's very simple!

Error X is the result of the events that happened to Cross caused by Error, instead of dying, Cross was abandoned in the anti-void, going insane just like Geno. Nightmare, Dream or Ink never found Cross, ending up with him being completely glitched, waking up with no memory of what happened. Now Error X wanders from AU to AU looking for answers of who is and who was. With him, Error C follows him wherever he goes, like a ghost made of glitches.

Now some facts about him;;

Error X has the same skills as Cross and Error together, he can use the wires, open portals and change codes, in addition to being able to create knives with his wires, they may seem harmless but are deadly, not only physically hurting but also breaking the target's codes.

Error C (X!Chara) wanders along with X, he also doesn't remember anything and has been completely corrupted in his form, being thrown out of X's body. However, he still has the power to possess his body with his permission. He is mute, so he can only speak when he is in X's body using his voice, so he uses signs and drawings to communicate with X.Its form is completely deformed and varies between his adult and child versions, not being able to control when it will change. He also can't be seen by anyone other than X, unless he touches him, so a bunch of glitches will be visible in a humanoid form, which is pretty scary.

Now considered even more of an anomaly by Error, X is hunted throughout the multiverse for him. X is quite fearful and hates fighting, So he prefers to run away, which amazingly always works out

X and C's relationship is very stable, because they only have each other, they started to trust each other a lot, so constant X lets C have his body so they can talk and lets C enjoy having a body

Error X also has another friend besides C, that being Epink! (By @maxsparkles) X used to run away in fear of Epink but as they got to know each other better, they both became best friends!

Last fact, but I changed his design a lot, I intended to throw the colors that Cross had in his design, like red and purple, but his color palette would be completely confusing.So I opted to use cmyk colors! Since Error uses rgb colors

And that's it! Thanks for reading!

Feel free to ask him and about him questions, I'll love to answer them all!

[marchingbandtshirt]

In regard to the tags on a previous post, I think it’s about time I come clean about some personal things related to a discord server I had been in and was removed from several months ago, and why. I won’t say everything in this post will be 100% objective or “what really happened,” but it will be at the very least the most honest I can be about the whole situation.

I joined a server sometime last year that was all about the inFAMOUS game series, something I’d gotten back into after the Destiny fixation wore off (which is now back again. lol. lmao even), and very importantly to me it was a server largely focused around the various OCs of its members. I love creating ocs for anything I’m a fan of, and finding a whole community of people for this tiny niche fandom that was geared towards what interests me the most about fan culture was like a dream come true. It was a pretty contained server as well, which was also very nice, as I tend to be overwhelmed easily by large servers even if the culture there is generally positive. The members were all extremely welcoming and friendly towards everyone who joined, which in hindsight just makes me all the more frustrated with myself over what happened, that I would ruin my relationships with so many wonderful people because of my own vices.

To get right down to it, I was removed over sending a controversial piece of nsfw-adjacent writing about my ocs (both over 18, both unrelated, just to be clear). I’m not going to repeat what I’d posted, that will forever remain between me and the locked note sealed away in notes app quarantine. In truth, what I had written hadn’t even been 100% in earnest, it was really just me trying to be “one of the cool kids” with an idea that had been only half-thought out and poorly executed, compounded by the fact that I wrote it all in a blur really late into the night and sent it without thinking. It feels pretty stupid as to why I would do such a thing, looking back on it now, but insecurity’s a hell of a brain poison when you’re in the midst of things.

By “one of the cool kids” I mean that the general server culture around nsfw topics was fairly lax, from my perspective, and it seemed like no one was really afraid to delve into convos or writing around characters’ kinks or sexual situations with various pairings. Since becoming a part of the server, I got the feeling of missing out on something everyone else was enjoying because I wasn’t doing the same, like I was standing outside looking through a window at a fun party everyone was invited to except for me. I’ve been a writer for a while now, but before then I barely had any experience writing about explicit topics or kinks (even my own), and I was admittedly way out of my depth with multiple things I’d written of that caliber that I shared in the server before, including my fateful message. In the moment, it seemed rather harmless, with two of my own characters who both enjoy pushing each others’ buttons in certain ways, but in actuality what I sent ended up making several people who read it uncomfortable with the subject.

To be completely honest, many of the conversations that happened before in the nsfw channel had also made me personally uncomfortable (YKINMKATO), so I just kept it muted, checking it on my own time when I could be in the right headspace. That meant I was largely unaware of any conversation happening around my post at the time until I checked the channel again later and saw multiple people’s comments about it, which in turn made me hastily write a follow-up to try and explain things better in context, but instead that just made everything worse and led to me being removed from the server due to a conversation I was never privy to. I don’t blame the admin or mods or anyone for how they responded at all, in hindsight it was largely deserved, and not just for that reason alone.

I won’t sugarcoat the situation. The way I engaged with the community and the people themselves before then, after the initial bout of anxiety around talking about my characters with others wore off, had frankly become unhealthy for me and unpleasant for everyone else. I let insecurity, jealousy, entitlement, and selfishness go to my head and mix into a really toxic mindset that made me think of it less as a collective of likeminded fans and more as a hierarchy of popularity. Instead of truly engaging in fandom and celebrating others’ creations, I’d just stew and rot in my own emotions because the same amount of “engagement” others had wasn’t happening with me, the most important person in the server (/s). I talked a big game about my own wip and still have next to nothing to show for it (I don’t know if I’ll ever have anything to show for it now, even if I want to). I derailed convos on others’ channels to talk about my own things and steer them towards myself, on several occasions. In general I’d been very inconsiderate and self-absorbed to my fellow fans, and that wasn’t fair for anyone involved. I was just making myself miserable, and as a result I ended up hurting the people I was supposed to call my friends. If not for that message, then it would’ve been just a matter of time before something else got me removed, I’m sure.

There’s really no excuse for my actions given that they caused other people harm. Honestly, if I ever was given a second chance to return, even in good faith, I don’t know if I would. The damage has already been done, and all I can do now is try to amend myself and move forward to do better in the future and not let my insecurities blind me to the positive relationships I do have. But for what it’s worth, if anything at all, I’m sorry.

I really do miss you guys.

[doodleimprovement]

CSAU :: Moonie Jericho and the Mysterious Case of the Moon-Jumper Mask

At long last, It is finished! Happy Halloween! 

Below the line is a lighthearted fic taking place in the “Coffee Shop” AU (( @doodledrawsthings​ ))with Magic! Family fun! Low stakes! And a gratuitous cameo by my OC because of course Nell is here 

Seriously though this fic is about as lighthearted as it gets. At the end of the fic are a few sketches I drew but didn’t end up coloring. 

((There’s going to be an alternate ending posted separately at a later date, but its not relevant to the fic)) 

Enjoy! 

--

Fall in Subcon Forest came in gently as always, and by the time Halloween rolled around, everyone was firmly in their sweaters and beanies and thick leggings and hiking boots that were only occasionally used for hiking. The leaves of the trees and the shining sun framed the town in such lovely muted colors that it looked like a picture right out of a magazine.

Not that anyone in the Horizon was looking out the window to see it - the curtains were closed in an attempt to not blind the employees and clientele.

It was that time between the end of school but before trick or treating, which meant that all of the teachers and parents were coming into the Horizon with their kids to get the new specialty drinks - well decorated and tasty, and more importantly, not hilariously overpriced. The kids in particular seemed to love the “Ghoulishly White Hot Chocolate”, and the teens flocked to the “Jack-O-Spices Frozen Pumpkin Latte”

Luka was almost certain that the pumpkin spice smell would burn itself so deep into his nose he’d never be able to un-smell it. A small price to pay for the rise in business, he supposed.

“Luka, Two Snatcher-ccinos!” Clover called from the cash register.

“I still hate that!” He responded with a light tone

“Too bad, make ‘em!” She teased back with a light laugh.

“Don’t get all testy, you two! We’re only open for another hour!” MJ called, grinning before turning back to the coffee machine, where they were effortlessly making yet another latte.

“Too long!” Clover argued, grabbing a muffin for a customer from the bakery display

“You’re telling me, and I still have to take Bow and Hattie trick or treating” Luka huffed, finishing up one of the “Snatcher-ccinos” and moving onto the next one.

“WE are!” MJ corrected. Luka just playfully rolled his eyes.

The conversation ended up dying rather quickly as the business went through its last rush, and, at long last, 4 o’clock came, and the store shut down. The three employees did a rather quickly clean up this night around - they were all eager to be anywhere but work that spooky night.

Once in the back of the store, Luka seemed to almost melt in relief, leaning further and further into the wall.

“Ugh, my limbs feel like Jelly” he commented as his voice gained its echo

“For all we know, they are,” Clover teased. “We’re meeting at MJs in an hour, right?” She stretched.

“Yeah.” Luka nodded “Have they already run off?”

“Yup. They’re excited” She chuckled “You gonna get home alright?”

“Yeah, thanks. See you later”

“Later!”

0o0o0o0o0

That stupid, cursed thing of a mask had not moved in weeks since he’d found it, and its stupid grin had started haunting the corner of his vision when ever he was in his studio.

It seems like it's decided that sitting on the desk in his art studio was its happy place. At least it was out of the way, and in a place he didn’t frequent often.

Though its eyes definitely still moved, which gave MJ hives like you would not believe. Why he kept it in his studio he wasn’t sure.

Tim had told him that the thing was mostly harmless, that it just seemed a bit… off, which wasn’t the worst thing in the world. Timmy even said that he got “good vibes” off of it, which was a strange phrase to use on something that felt at the very least mildly cursed.

Finishing with the caplet for his costume, gently clasping it, he looked in the mirror and gave himself a smile.

It was obscure, sure, but he’d put a lot of work into it! The legend of the “Lonely Man” was well known in these parts, maybe someone would get it. Someone had to.

Whether or not anyone got it, he was still happy with the tattered thing. That faux old age took forever to get right.

As he straightened out his clothes, his eyes caught the mask once more.

His hand picked it up off his desk, and his thumb rubbed on the odd surface. He couldn’t really tell what it was made of, but it was… oddly smooth, he thought. His brow furrowed as he looked at its eyes, a single pupil in its left eye, and a cascade of diamonds in the other. It was certainly an interesting and eye-catching design. He also liked the blue and reds, and that weirdly off-putting grin.

Such an odd thing.

He held it up with one hand over his face - not putting it on, but getting a look in the mirror at how it would look with the outfit.

He found it utterly bizarre that he could see clearly through the eyes despite what seemed like thick paint over it.

The mask itself wasn’t actually that scary when taken all at once. Oddly enough, it seemed to match with his outfit - at least, color wise. It didn’t even seem evil or anything. It seemed… kind.

That was an odd word to use. MJ tended to flip flop on how he feels about the damned thing

Before he could think any more about it, his doorbell rang, and the mask was left on his desk, forgotten the moment company arrived.

“Who is it?” He asked as he approached the door

“The Dread Pirate Roberts!” A little voice announced as the oak opened up.

To his absolute delight, Harriet was dressed indeed the Dread Pirate Roberts, missing nothing but the mask (The town doesn’t allow masks on minors, for some reason. A weird little policy). Next to her stood an excited Bow, grinning from ear to ear. He knew exactly who she was, but still asked-

“And who are you?”

“My name is Inigo Montoya” She said with all the faux-seriousness she could muster, holding up a foam sword “You killed my father, prepare to die!”

“Oh, goodness, the finest swordsperson in the world and The Dread Pirate Roberts have come to my home, I don’t stand a chance!” He moved out of his way as the kids ran into the apartment, and their father walked up behind him.

When his eyes went to Luka, he let out a snort. The man was dressed in a slightly silly looking prince outfit dyed almost completely purple, and his form was mostly purple as well - an energy-saving tactic if ever there was one.

“And you are?”

“He’s the ghost of prince Humperdink” Bow grinned. “This was the best costume we could find for it”

“I honestly think he shoulda died at the end of the movie so I'm cool with it.” Harriet commented as MJ moved to the side and let the group in “Is Clover here yet?”

“Not yet, I’m sure she’ll be here any minute and we can get right along with trick or treating!” MJ announced

“Yay!” the girls responded in unison, taking their place on MJs couch and turning on his old television for a brief moment of entertainment

Mj looked at Luka and grinned “Well, you’re lookin’ spooky, Luka”

“You kind of do too… what do you look like?”

MJ snorted “I’m the ‘Lonely Man of Subcon forest’. Heard of it?”

“Nope, don’t think I’ve been here long enough” Luka shrugged “Does look nice though. Very zombie-ish.”

The two chatted for a bit before there was another ring barely 10 minutes later.

“That must be Clo” MJ pushed himself off of the wall. “Can you get that? I want to grab my wallet so we can get the kids some ice cream before they go running around”

Luka nodded, giving him a grateful smile before turning to the door to greet the final member of the trio

MJ popped back into his studio, grabbing his wallet… and looking again at the mask.

He pocketed his wallet, and picked the mask up again. His thumbs rubbing against the strange texture of the mask’s sides.

He couldn’t help but admit that he was tempted.  Maybe, he could just see what it’d look like, just for a moment. Who knows? Maybe this has all been anxiety for nothing and the mask is just… weird.

He looked back into the mirror, and placed the mask on his face.

There was a moment where he stared amusedly at his reflection - it added a certain air to his outfit. Maybe wearing it out wouldn't be so b-

And then his body seized

He couldn’t move, he couldn’t breathe. He trembled and a pain started from his head and traveled down his spine. It was like the worst shiver from the cold he’d ever experienced. Like ice was pressed directly against his skin. It dispersed like a fog, freezing freezing, and, suddenly-

It stopped.

Panting heavily, MJ pulled themselves back up to a standing position - when had they bent over like that? - and lifted their head, making eye contact with themselves in the mirror.

“GAH?!”

They were - blue! And - and the mask was very much not a mask!!!

When they blinked, it blinked. When they moved, it moved. When they grimaced, the mouth moved along to create the expression. their eyes scanned over the crescent shape, past their neck and then landed on their-

“H-hands!” They stared - they were missing a finger and - had claws?? They clenched their fists in disbelief, eyes catching on a glinting just under their sleeve.

.. Where had the chains come from?

“MJ? MJ are you okay?”

Clover

“D-don’t come in, its fine!!” They panicked, “I’m uh, just, finishing up and stuff with my costume!”

“It looked finished to me” Luka commented “Did something rip?”

“Y-yes?? yes! Something totally ripped“

“They’re lying!” Hattie pointed out

“Sounds like their lying voice” Bow added.

Curse these adorable, smart little girls!

“I-I’m fine!” They yelled out “Totally fine, just fine”

“... MJ I’m opening the door, be decent”

“No, Clover, I - “

But the door opened anyway

And Clover - dressed up as “Generic princess” - looked in, and … stared.

“.... MJ?”

“.... H-hi, Clover.”

“Clover, what are-” Luka cut himself off “Uh….”

“It’s me! Its MJ, I uh - “ They tried to come up with a succinct explanation for the situation, despite not having any real idea.

“The mask” Luka quickly concluded, recognizing the face after MJs unfortunately previous run-ins.

“I … yes” MJ’s shoulders slumped a bit.

“Hey, at least you still have feet” Luka commented, causing MJ to look down and see that he did in fact still have his shoes on. Thank heaven for small mercies.

“What happened, what is it?!” Harriet pushed her way through, her eyes wide as saucers once they landed on the recently transformed adult “... Whoa”

“I … I put on the mask. I was curious and - and it..” They looked back down at the pale, blue hands, nervously moving the fingers and claws. “I felt like I was freezing, my whole body and then…” They trailed off.

“Whoa..” Harriet approached him slowly “It's like, Majora’s Mask!”

Lukas put his hand on her shoulder to stop her from jumping - now really was not the time “... I suppose that's one way to describe it.” He gave a deliberate, thoughtful face towards his transformed friend.

Bow was very firmly behind the adults, staring rather intently and slightly bewildered. Sure, she had been getting used to Mr. Princeton as a parent but.. This was somehow very different.

“... We need to talk to Tim.” Clover concluded

“Tim’s out of town” Luka reminded the group with a grimace “He and Timmy had some kind of meeting thing with other magical people. We don’t…” Luka huffed, his hair fluffing up a bit “We don’t know anyone else whose adept at magic like they are”

Harriet furrowed her brow a bit, looking at the discomfort that MJ was experiencing, rubbing their hands together. Could they be stuck like that? She wanted to think that maybe this really was like the Zelda game, but who could tell? It's not like they knew anyone….

“Yes we do!” She snapped her fingers“I kinda hate that Mu was right, but there is a witch in town!”

“What?” Lukas’ brow furrowed “Who?”

0o0o0o0o0

Getting to the edge of town was… novel, to put it simply. The group was rather lucky that Luka was used to doing this sort of thing. And he was about 4 times larger than the group, so that helped in flying them around.

With the sun kissing the earth, red rays crawling into the darker sky, they didn’t have too much time, but followed Harriet and Bow as they got past the town center, and led them down to-

“Wait, why are we at Nell’s place?” Clover stared ahead at the Mint-green home, succulents hanging from pots and a radio sitting on the edge of the porch.

“Because Nurse Nell is a witch!” Harriet announced walking up the two steps of the porch.

“What- Harriet!” Luka startled.

“Its true!” Bow defended as Hattie knocked on the door.

“Kids, we’ve known Nell for a long time, she’s not-”

“She is!” Hattie argued “We saw it!”

“She made us promise to keep it a secret!” Bow added.

Said nurse opened the door as MJ tried to speak up

“I wasn’t expecting trick-or treaters,” She greeted before looking out the door, “But I do-” She paused as her eyes landed on the strange group at her front porch.

There was a rather awkward, extended silence as her eyes scanned MJ through her thick lenses with a gaze that conveyed a strange kind of surprise.

“.... Inside, now” She pulled the door open further, leaving no room for argument.

The adults shared a glance, but did as she said, entering her small living room. She greeted them with a nod as they entered, and shut the door behind them, motioning for MJ to approach her.

She didn’t say a word as they did so, and very slowly lifted her hands to their face, holding it steady as she scrutinized. “What happened? Less than 3 sentences” She half asked/half demanded. Her tone wasn’t harsh, but it was serious.

“Uh, I put on a cursed mask and it uh… did this” They tried to sum up.

“Where did you get the mask?”

“I found it in the forest. I thought it was abandoned from the spirit festival”

“And why did you pick up an abandoned mask in the forest?”

They awkwardly didn’t respond. She sighed

“I get it, hun” She responded, resigned. “Stay still”

“I am”

“Stiller”

Clover and Luka watched her with some skepticism, seeing the woman take a deep breath, and as she exhaled, her hands suddenly glowed dimly, tapping at the side of MJs head.

“Hah! See! Told you!” Hattie pointed, jumping slightly

“Shhhhhhhh!” Bow shook her “She’s doin’ magic stuff!”

“Hm…” She masterfully ignored the yelling children “Well, good news is that the magic isn’t very strong, Just… aggressive.” Nell announced. “And it's not malevolent” She let go of their face.

“... I… How can you tell?” MJ asked, their own hand tapping their blue cheek.

“.. Let's say it's a feeling” She summed up. “You can sit down. I need to grab something from my library”

And she left the room

“.... I don’t think I’ve ever seen Nell that serious” Clover spoke out “Also the uh, glowing hands? Didn’t know she could do that”

“How did you not know she had magic?” Luka asked with a rather incredulous tone

“It never came up!” Clover retorted

“How did it never come up?”

“Its cool!” Harriet jumped into the conversation

“It think its cool too” Bow agreed “I always wondered how my paper cuts at school always healed so fast…”

MJ had sat themselves down, hand staying on their head, feeling the strange curve of their forehead with a certain fascination. Nell’s words - said with so much affirmation- did make them feel better about the situation.

The nurse returned, her expression still relatively serious, but calmer as she carried an old, thick book with a rather overly ornate cover in a faded blue.

“You’re lucky I collect these old things” She commented for a moment, sitting down next to MJ. She flipped through the pages, finding a two-page spread with a plain mask listed on it, and text printed so small that MJ just could not read it. “Here we are.”

Harriet climbed up next to her “What's it say? That’s a lot of words!”

Nell chuckled a bit at her eagerness “It is, but... “ she hand rested on the book for a moment, and then she lifted it, and the text glowed, lifting and circling around her hand like a ring.

“Whoa…. It's like the unknown from the Pokémon movie!” Bow jumped, causing Nell to laugh more.

“A little, I suppose” Nell responded, and she looked over at the other two adults, mostly at Clover, whose bewildered stare caused her to laugh again “You okay there?”

“... How did I not know this about you?”

“Never came up, dear. Don’t think too hard about it. You too, “Snatcher”” The woman gave a smirk. Luka cleared his throat. “Now…”

A simple flick of her hand, and the letters were floating around MJ’s head, and some of them glowed just a little bit brighter “Hm….. Alrightie, that's a good sign” She snapped, and the letters, very suddenly disappeared as if popping a bubble. “Well, Give until dawn, and then you should be able to take off the mask. If you can’t, come to me. I don’t work tomorrow”

“Oh… Well, that uh, wasn’t so bad. I’ll be okay?”

“Of course” Nell nodded, shutting the book “I’d’ve called the Kagai’s the moment I let go of your face if I thought otherwise”

“The who?” Hat questioned.

“Another time, Hattie, another time” Nell placated. “Now….” she exhaled, putting the book on her coffee table and clasping her hands together “I just realized I haven’t even said hello to any of you”

Something about that sentence finally broke the tension, getting a laugh out of Clover and Luka, and a snicker out of MJ.

The next ten minutes consisted of Nell reassuring the group that MJ would be fine, and reiterating that they needed to come to her if the mask did not come off by sunrise.

“There’s a lot of magic in this that I can sense. So uh, just be careful.” She warned. “I don’t know a lot about that, so you’ll have to ask Tim”

MJ nodded “Uh, thank you, Nell”

She gave them a kind smile “Don’t mention it. Next time you need me though, have Clover send me a message or just call me, alright?” She looked passed them to Harriet, who gave her a sheepish smile.

“Got it” The transformed barista nodded.

“Oh and, don’t be too worried about people seeing you. Just say it's a costume” She recommended as they walked out with their family waiting just beyond the porch. “Happy Halloween!” She called before abruptly shutting the door

“So……” Bow started

“Can we go trick or treating now??” Hattie finished.

Luka looked up to MJ, who seemed much calmer than before, despite continuing to lift their hand to their weirdly shaped head.

“.. Yeah, yeah i think we can” they gave Luka a grin “And thanks for getting us the help, Hattie” MJ reached down and picked her up “Who knew the Dread Pirate Roberts could be such a help!”

The girl giggled before being put back down “Then let’s go!!”

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

MJ was initially a bit tittered when they entered the town, but the moment anyone noticed them, the compliments rolled in.

“Wow! You look like a spooky zombie!”

“What game is that cosplay from?”

“How did you get the prosthetic to look like that, damn!”

“Wow, that is a really cool idea for the Lonely Man!”

MJ was beaming at the semi-undeserved praised as they took the kids from neighborhood to neighborhood, filling their pillow cases close to brimming with so much candy that Luka kept making a face and seemed to be mentally preparing to hide all of it, whispering to Clover and MJ about taking some of the candy so that it wasn’t all in his apartment.

“Seriously, all that candy?? They’re going to get cavities and I cannot pay for dental work like that.” The father aggressed. MJ just laughed a bit, looking ahead at the two girls who were trying to run ahead to the next house.

And then Bow’s foot caught a crack.

“Ah, Bow!” MJ startled, hand reaching out - but there was no way they’d reach her before she fell-

And then, she just stopped falling, stuck in midair as if floating.. But she wasn’t.

Upon closer examination, she was held up by a variety of red strings, connected to MJ’s clawed fingers

“... Uh”

“Whoaaaa” Hattie gaped “Magic! Cool!”

Bow pulled himself up to a standing position, and MJ put their hand down, the strings disappeared

“.. Thanks” Bow cleared her throat “That was really cool”

“It kind of was... “ They commented, looking down at their hands “I’m gonna be having a heck of a long talk with Tim when he gets back from wherever he is”

“Yeah, definitely” Luka nodded in agreement.

Lucky for the group the rest of the night went without incident, with MJ joining Luka at home and the two of them staying up until the sun started showing through the windows.

“Ready?” Luka asked him, the being no longer human shaped, as he’d finally reached his limit

“Yeah.. I think so” MJ took in a breath “She said it can just… come off like how I put it on…”

“Alright….” Luka’s voice trailed off as MJ reached their hands up to their face, thumbs by their cheeks, but then - wait! The edge, the mask! They felt it.

Barely bothering to breath, they mentally counted… 1… 2… 3!

they pulled it off and gasped as that icy feeling went through them even faster than last time, trembling and nearly falling over as Luka kept them up with their tail.

“Hey, hey! You okay MJ?”

MJ looked up, nodding “Yeah, uh, how do I..?”

“You’re back to a nerd, if that's what you’re asking” Luka lightly teased

Their hands went back up to their face, and gasped when they felt their regular skin, and their glasses (Where had they gone? Didn’t matter)

“Oh, thank god” The tired barista flopped onto their partner, “That was exhausting. Thank goodness the Horizon is closed today…”

“Hah, ready to sleep?”

“Oh, definitely” MJ commented, looking down at the mask still in their hand, its smile seeming not nearly as spooky than before.. “Hm..”

“What?”

“.. Why’d it choose me, I wonder” They muttered, sitting up and placing the mask by the window sill “But… we’ll see about finding out more, hm?”

“.. Yeah, we will” Luka confirmed.

MJ gave him a smile, hugging his partner with a slight nuzzle “Come on, we need to sleep. Hattie and Bow-”

“Oh, don’t remind me. We’re in for a hell of an afternoon” Luka groaned, but he was still smiling.

Saying that things were “back to normal” was never correct with this group, but things were still pretty okay. Maybe better, even.

Moonie figured they’d just have to wait and see.

--

BONUS:: 

Costumes! I wasn’t able to finish these in time, but I hope they suffice! 

[aceofspadegrass]

Can you maybe make a fic of just me and Niragi chilling and hangin out together at the beach?,just Niragi being calm for just one day.

(Of course his lynx and Fanta has to be there...and Dori)

And then Niragi would question things such as "Can I see your hair?" And I would say "No,only girls and family relatives can see it" "Why aren't men aloud to see your hair?" "Because,they will judge on just by or appearance and not our personality" "So does that mean,Kuina,Ann and Mira can see your hair?" "Yes,yes they can. We even has a girls sleepover party at Kuina's room that day with Ace and Chloe" And Dori dressing up as a women is like "A-and I'm not invited!?" "Dori,you're a boy..a grown man dressing up as smexy lady-"

A Chat with Ila

Characters: @a-simp-20, Niragi Suguru, Dori Sakurada

Genre: Fluff. Just @a-simp-20 vibing with Dori and Niragi and talking about hijabs! :D

1.4k words

Hehe, sorry I finally got around to this! I was taking a little fanfic break after posting 6 fics in a row, you understand right? (I say break as if it hasn’t even been a week pfft-)

I’m going to try my best to incorporate your culture, okay? Okay. :D I hope you like it @a-simp-20! Here, have this nice picture as well. (Sorry for tagging you three times in a row-)

It was late into the day, and wandering about the Beach was a group. It consisted of two men, a lady, and two animals, happily chatting amongst each other about normal topics, like how soft pillows were and the legality of eating fried crickets as a snack.

Which, by the way, was completely legal in certain cultures.

Fanta was happily trotting besides Dori, who was more focused on trying to paint his nails with clear polish on the move, humming a song. On the other side of him was Catra, the lynx wearing a rubber duck on her head for the sheer fun of it. Said rubber duck had a tiny felt cap on it, tiny lettering spelling the word ‘Chicken’ in Hiragana.

People naturally got out of the way upon seeing Niragi, but Niragi wasn’t even paying attention to them, knowing full well his sheer presence was enough to cause a reaction. That way he could focus on talking to Ila about totally normal human endeavours.

“ Have you ever sat in a bath in the dark with a little bit of light? It’s actually really soothing as long as you’re not scared of the dark, and it’s really quiet too!” Ila chirps, walking besides the bottle of black tea, Niragi shrugging. He’s never really had the time for himself for something like that. It sounded amazing though, and maybe when he had the time he would do it, even using scented candles and even bath salts. Ila smiles up at him. “ Aww, you really should, you look like you need one!”

“ Wh- Hey! What does that supposed to mean?!” Niragi accuses as he looks down at Ila, who smiles at him.

“ It’s really nice, that’s all! Especially here, where there’s so much violence going on, there needs to be a time to relax and ease your stress!”

Niragi just squints at her, then leaves it be. Ila had good intentions, so he just continues onwards, Dori humming behind Niragi and Ila.

“ If you want to, Niragi, I wouldn’t mind it if you wanted to borrow some of my bath salts! They’re some of my favourites, but don’t expect them to smell like anything. I prefer the unscented ones.” Dori offers Niragi, who just waves off his doppelgänger as they approach the TV room. The group enters, Fanta and Catra hopping onto the couch and claiming it as their own until Niragi shooed them off to sit on the ground instead. Fanta was a lot more nicer about that, Catra baring her teeth a little at Niragi, the overcooked barbecue giving her the disappointed dad look complete with his hand on his hip until Catra finally complied, Ila taking a seat right where the cat was previously, Dori taking the other side of the couch. That left Niragi to the middle, but he doesn’t take a seat just yet, heading over to the DVD case to pick out a movie for them to pass the time with. He pulls out a random case, squinting at the cover.

“ Hey, Sakurada. Why the hell are you on this?” Niragi holds the case up and looks to Sakurada. Sakurada comes over and peers at the case, gasping a little in recognition.

“ Oh! That’s Orange! It’s actually really good!” Dori smiles happily at seeing his face on the cover, even if it was really small. Niragi hums, looking at the cover. He points to the main characters on the cover, squinting at it.

“ The fuck, why are these two on here-“

“ Hm? Oh, that’s just Yamazaki and Tsuchiya! They’re actors as well! I kind of hope they’re alright, I haven’t seen them around lately-“

“ How many of you clone fuckers are out there-“

“ Well technically-“

Niragi holds a hand up, hushing Sakurada. “ Never mind, I don’t care anymore. Let’s just watch this.” Sakurada mutely nods and goes back to sitting on the couch, Fanta hopping back up and splaying his body across Sakurada’s lap, Sakurada chuckling in amusement and giving his dog a few belly tickles. Ila was visibly happy as well, Niragi sliding in the disc and going to sit down as the movie started to run.

Two hours later, and Ila was already talking about the movie and how nice it was, Sakurada nodding along with her as she went on. Niragi remained quiet, admittedly not having paid much attention to the movie or its plot, using it more like background noise and eye candy as he zoned out. He wasn’t really much of a romance drama movie kind of guy anyways, got too mushy for his taste.

Still, no use in spoiling Ila and Sakurada’s joy in the movie. Even Fanta seemed to be joining in on the fun, tail wagging excitedly as he sat there on Sakurada’s lap. Catra had sat at the foot of the couch the entire time, content where she was and occasionally grooming her huge paws and then settling said paws on Niragi’s foot and kneading it. It was a weird experience, but ultimately harmless.

The conversation soon died down, shifting to fashion sense, and Niragi’s attention moves to Ila, more importantly on the hijab on her head. It was actually a pretty salmon colour, and his staring contest with the side of her head went on too long, as his eyes met with a very amused face, Ila blinking and waving a hand in front of his face, snapping him out of it.

“ Is something wrong? Is there like…. lint on my head?”

“ Ah, no- Just wondering why you wear that. I don’t think anyone has seen your hair.” “ Well, men haven’t! That’s kind of the point! I’m a Muslim, and that means women wear these as a sign of modesty.” Niragi tilts his head. Why be modest here? It’s the Borderlands, technically anyone can do whatever they want. Then again, he guesses it applies to wearing it the same way as not wearing it. “ So….. why not?”

“ Well, it’s simple! We want people to not look for appearances and instead look for what’s right here!” She pats her chest, right where the heart was. “ It’s to keep men unrelated to us from seeing something they aren’t allowed to! If you were, for example, to marry a Muslim woman, then she’s allowed to show her hair to you, but only then! Otherwise that’s off limits to you!” Ila explains happily, Niragi slowly nodding and taking in the info.

“ So…. what about the ones that aren’t men?”

“ Then they’re allowed to see my hair! In fact, we, as in Ann, Kuina, Chloe, and Mira have sleepovers over in Kuina’s room! It’s actually really fun! Oh, but immediate male family members are allowed, but that’s it!”

There was a mildly offended gasp from Sakurada, who holds his hand over his heart. “ What? And I’m not invited to them? Even though I look stylish?”

Ila giggles, shaking her head. “ Even if you wear the prettiest dress and the nicest wig, you’re still identified as a male, and can’t be allowed to see my hair, Sakurada! It’s nothing against you, you’re doing great, it’s just how my religion functions between the relationship between men and women! It also means you and Niragi aren’t to touch me, even in a friendly context!” “ Wh- So you’ve never had a hug?” Niragi furrows his eyebrows a little, confused.

“ I have, just not with men.” Ila explains politely, still smiling. “ Being polite and modest is just how we are, that’s all! Of course, some cases of being touched by men are absolutely necessary, like with doctors, but when we can, we highly prefer not to be touched by non-mahram.” Niragi and Sakurada both nod at her words, Fanta barking. Sakurada point to Fanta. “ Does Fanta count?”

“ Well, not really? There’s technically different rules in set for dogs, but that’s for another time.” Ila responds, and gets up with a hum. “ Hey, wanna go see how many plastic ducks we can fit in Chishiya’s room?” Niragi grins, getting up so fast off the couch it almost was like he was ejected from it by a spring and running out the door, Fanta barking and running after him, Sakurada chuckling and getting up at a reasonable pace.

“ Come on, what are you waiting for! Let’s go fuck with the whipped cream pie!” Niragi yells, Ila laughing and following behind him along with the rest of the squad. It was a pleasant evening for some chaos after a nice long chat.

[firefly464]

The Real World - Chapter 2

Apparently people liked the last one so Imma continue it :D

Again, the original idea was from @i-have-this-now​

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~~~

Tommy sat on top of the destroyed van, staring at a sword in his lap. His head was spinning violently, and it took all his energy to keep from falling onto the ground below. 

Several days had passed since he had initially woken up from his injury. Several boring, uneventful days. Sure, people had come to visit him, but they were all busy trying to rebuild from the war. He had felt so useless just laying there, unable to get up and help. He wanted to go and figure out what was going on, not lay in bed. 

 And so he had done the one thing he could think of. He had raided the van for every health potion he could find and drank them all. After all, Wilbur had told him to drink a potion every day to help heal his wound. Apparently there was a good reason for the slow process. As it turned out, even drinking a single health potion was enough to make one feel slightly woozy. Drinking 5 was enough to make him incredibly nauseous. Sure, it had healed his wound from the arrow, but it had also made him feel miserable. 

He shook his head, trying to clear the fog from his brain. Honestly, what was the point of being able to walk around if he couldn’t even think straight? God, Wilbur was going to kill him. 

He watched as his friends went around, trying to rebuild L’manberg. It wasn’t very big, but the damage caused by the war was immense. The entrance was nothing more than a pile of rubble. Surrounding it were massive craters, as if it were blown to bits. He shook his head again, remembering exactly what had happened for it to become like that. The way that Dream had blown up a single piece of TNT, setting off a massive chain in the process. At least, thats how it had happened in game. He had no idea how it had happened here. There was no way the Dream would have been able to pull of the same stunt here without months of preparation. After all, he would have had to place all of the explosives by hand, and there was no way Wilbur would have let him do that... 

Unless Eret had helped him. He scowls. Of course Eret had helped him, it only made sense. He wondered how Eret’s betrayal had played out in this world. After all, in-game they had all died. But here, everyone was clearly still alive. And based on how scared they were for him, death was permanent. 

A voice cuts through his thoughts “Tommy? What are you doing up there?” Tubbo stands on the ground, staring up at his friend “Aren’t you supposed to be resting?” 

Tommy looked down at his friend, not very far below him. In an act of recklessness, he sheathed his sword and jumped down to the ground. The impact sent a slight shock running up his legs and spine, causing the scar from his wound to throb slightly, but other then that he felt no pain from it. 

“I got bored,” he told Tubbo, shrugging it off and trying to look casual. Unfortunately, the side effects of the health potions still hadn’t worn off, causing him to stumble slightly. 

Tubbo looked at him in shock and disbelief “did you just... are you ok?!” he quickly reached his arms out to catch his friend “Tommy?!” 

Tommy brushed off the concern, straightening and brushing himself off “I’m alright. Like I said, I got bored” His words were slurred ever so slightly, likely another side effect of the potion. He prayed that Tubbo wouldn’t notice

Tubbo noticed. “Tommy, you didn’t do what I think you did, right?”

“Depends on what you think I did”

“So if I went and checked on the potions drawer in the van, they would all still be there?” Tubbo knew exactly what was going on. His friend had pulled this stunt before, when he had broken his arm trying to help construct the L’manberg wall. 

Tommy’s eyes widened “Uhhh, why would you do that? There’s nothing wrong with them I swear!” 

Tubbo rolled his eyes “Uh huh. You’re so lucky I made spares. Wilbur would kill you if he found out you drank the entire supply,” he said, pulling a handful of vials from one of the pouches around his waist. Tommy figured it was the equivalent of everyone's inventory, considering how nearly everyone had them. “Here I thought you had sworn never to do it again, especially after what happened last time” 

“Last time...?” 

His friend looked at him with confusion and worry. It was a look that Tommy was quickly getting used to, and quickly growing to hate. “Yeah, when we were building the wall? Remember?”

A fake smile formed on Tommy’s face “O-oh yeah! Yeah, I totally remember that. Psh, I was just testing you!” he chuckled nervously.

Tubbo’s brow furrowed. He wasn’t buying and of the crap Tommy was saying, but he also didn’t know how much he should press for an answer. His friend was clearly having a hard time, and he didn’t want to make it worse. But he also hated just sitting back and watching. 

“Tommy, you know you can trust me, right? I won’t tell any of the others, I promise.” 

“Yeah... I know. I just, I’ve got a lot on my mind and I don’t want to worry anyone” 

“Well now I’m concerned” he said with a chuckle “Whats up?” 

Tommy leaned against the wall of the broken van and slowly slid down to the ground. “I... I think something happened to my memory...” he says. It was the easiest explanation as to what was happening to him. He highly doubted that Tubbo was going to believe that he came from a world where all this was just a video game, nothing more. Better to tell a concerning lie than a panic inducing truth. 

“You... What? What do you mean?” His best friend sat on the scorched dirt next to him. “Like, you don’t remember anything?”

“No... It's more like...” he was silent for a moment, trying to figure out the best way to describe it without causing his friend to freak out “I remember the general information, but none of the specifics. Does that make sense?” 

Tubbo nodded “Unfortunately, yeah it does. That's really worrying. When did it start?” 

“When I woke up after my injury”

“So then it must have been caused during the duel. Maybe Dream had an enchanted arrow or something? But I’ve never heard of any enchantment that could affect memory like that...” his voice trailed off, a look of deep thought and calculation on his face

“What? N-no I’m sure its not like that!” Tommy said hastily. The last thing he needed was Tubbo to go and demand answers from Dream, when he knew perfectly well that the arrow dream had used had nothing to do with it. “I don’t really care how it happened. I just need you to tell me things I may not remember”

“Are you sure? If Dream caused this then he might know how to fix it.”

Tommy was shaking his head vigorously “I’m sure, I swear. Just please help me out here, ok?” 

Tubbo still looked extremely concerned, but he chose to put his worries aside. The thing he needed to do right then was help his friend. “Alright, I can do that. What do you need to know?”

~~~

It had been nearly a week since Dream and Tommy had gone missing, and everyone was getting more scared by the second. Wilbur sat at his desk, watching the clip where he was counting down for what felt like the thousandth time. He had narrowed down exactly when the two of them had gone dark. 

As soon as he had said “fire!”, their minecraft characters had stopped moving. They had both gone completely silent. It took roughly a minute before viewers started pouring in from both streams, reporting that both Dream’s and Tommy’s streams had gone offline. Wilbur had initially thought it was just a stupid prank. Nothing more than a harmless joke. That was before everyone reported radio silence from both of them. Neither were answering their phones, but they were both still in the discord call. They hadn’t gone on mute, so Will could still hear background noises coming from Tommy’s house. Everyone else had quickly ended their streams, telling the viewers that it was just a prank. In reality, they wanted to find their friends without the eyes of the world on them.

A week had passed, and the police had still found nothing. No sign of either of them. No sign of either of them even leaving their rooms. None of it made sense. All that Wilbur knew was that his friends were out there, and they needed to be found. 

~~~

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[circumstellars]

I don't normally do the writing myself, but this fandom is so quiet and lacks content, so I'm forced to write awful terrible ficlets to contribute.

General rating, Five & Diego, Elliot POV, Lila cameo. Happens after Diego is stabbed S2 EP2 and while he's recovering under Lila and Five's care S2 EP3. No more than 1600 words ish.

Inspired by this post:

-----------------

The pain is immediate, the cramps are in possibly every muscle Elliott has. When consciousness hits him like a thunderbolt, it drops him into the middle of a tension-laced back and forth between... didn't they mention names? The aliens - er, his uninvited guests are muttering lowly not far away. The tightly wrapped gag has chafed both corners of his mouth and he can't seem to focus.

'You didn't untie him?'

A kid? Oh! The Kid. Elliott opens his eyes with a start and spots through bleary vision the (alien?) boy just a few feet away, looking unnervingly human and pawing at something on his neck. He looks unimpressed at the response he gets.

'Was I supposed to?'

There's a deep, exhausted sigh and before he can grab his bearings again, Elliott feels loosening pressure behind him. Two, Three, Four... Five! That's it! Shit - had he really stared them down the barrel of his shotgun? He should be dead it registers, but the thought is fleeting and broken by Five's weary voice; there's small, barely audible cracks in every few syllables when he says,

'The assumption here is that you will behave.’ Elliott snaps his head obediently just before the gag is loosened and the relief floods over the aches in all his nooks and corners. 'Put on some coffee: I need to think.' He can't see Five behind his chair just then, but his words sound far away, clipped short by a quick flash and the falling of dead air to replace him.

Elliott can hear the English woman fussing in the next room, and a quiet snoring from a third party, and he licks at the dried blood crusted in the right corner of his mouth. However his limbs protest, he gets up carefully anyway.

He doesn't know when Five plans on returning, but Elliott doesn't want to find out what happens if the coffee isn't finished when he does.

---

Elliott doesn't sleep that night. He isn't the only one.

It's well into the earliest morning hours when the third pot of coffee finishes brewing, and only just, before Five blinks into the kitchen to pour yet another cup. Elliott peers at him from his desk in the adjacent room, where Five has been keeping him busy monitoring his collection of radar equipment. Elliott hasn't the faintest what half these devices do, but the boy seems incredibly invested, and every little blip on his screens is scrutinised by Five immediately.

Elliott quietly takes a bite of cereal he's only half-interested in eating, and ever so carefully watches the boy in the kitchen over a few spoonfuls of tasteless granola.

Five looks eerily pensive. He's staring into the blackness of the coffee pot on the counter, and Elliott can barely see his unmoving figure, licked over occasionally by yellow light flowing in from where his wounded brother lay resting in the common room. In the quietude he can hear a pair of soft, twin snores float through the flat.

He has so many questions. They're bubbling up behind his lips but he is careful to say nothing until Five breaks his moody silence. Elliott doesn't think much of himself, but there are bits and pieces he'd rather maintain un-melted by an unpredictable alien teenager.

--

When Five does finally move, Elliott had long given up studying his motionless shape and was arms deep in rolls of labelled film canisters scattered about him. He nearly screamed when a deeply troubled sigh dropped in behind his ear and brought him to attention- he swallowed it quickly.

'You're out of gauze.'

He nods shortly in acknowledgement, his eyes following as Five leans his lower back into Elliott's desk and weaves his arms over one another tightly. The expression on the boy's face even in the dim lamp light from the next room looks stormy and blackened; his eyebrows are knitted deeply and however impossible it might seem his folded mouth looks like it belongs to a man four times his age. Elliott finds it moderately disturbing. It's another long few minutes before Five mumbles, barely audible into the dead air,

'Was he breathing? You know, when they got here,' and he's not looking at Elliott but even a hermit like he was versed enough in social interactions to pick up on the subtleties in Five's voice. The question was so steady and so calm, too calm, the kid's eyes too stony - his posture too impassive. Elliott's eyes flickered over to the opening of the atrium across the way.

'I didn't see much - I was um, you had me, you know,' he vaguely gestures to being strapped to one of the dentist chairs nearby. Five doesn't say anything, so he keeps going and drops his spoon into the bowl in front of him. 'But-but uh, the girl took care of it,' he says uselessly. 'The other one-'

'Diego.'

'-right, D-Diego, he didn't make much noise at first. I couldn't see what she was doing but she sounded... upset. Then the guy started screaming for bit before quieting down, I guess, until you showed up.'

Five's expression remains poker-still. Elliott swallows audibly. 'Mostly the guy--Diego--' he is quick to correct himself as Five's eyes slide icily in his direction, 'wasn't saying much, sort of gasping I guess, he sounded really hurt. Sort of just saying one thing really,' Elliott sits back in his chair, holding one hand with the other in hopes he isn't visibly quivering. He's fascinated by these newcomers, especially this one, but part of him can't shuck the thick layer of nerves that buzzes over his skin in Five's presence. It's almost like his body is scared of something his eyes aren't registering beyond the schoolboy shorts and preppy, embroidered blazer.

He can see the thin black line of Five's mouth part, so the rest rapidly tumbles from Elliott's lips: 'Kept saying, uh “Dad", a lot, or-or… something.'

WHAP.

He launches out of his chair at the sharp smack of a fist on the brittle wood of his desk. It shakes and Elliott shakes too, but in a rapid blink Five is gone from the room. What just happened?

He catches a shadow in the corner of his eye and moves to follow it out into the large atrium once more. The whole room is dark and yellowed by the single lamp on the corner table, and its casting bewitching phantoms on his dingy walls. Diego is laid there on his sofa, quiet in sleep save for a few stuttering wheezes that sound quite painful to Elliott.

'He's really stupid.'

Elliot exclaims under his breath and snaps his head toward Five. The boy is nestled in the darkest corner on this level, pressed up against the barrier across the way. He can't see his face, but can tell he's crumpled up into himself just as he was at Elliott's desk a moment before.

'I don't know how he made it to adulthood, quite honestly,' and Five says this gravely; he is quite serious. 'I can't believe how stupid he is, even now.'

Elliott doesn't know what to say. He says nothing.

Diego fusses in his sleep a moment before his breathing settles, encumbered but steady.

'He knows. He's voluntarily-purposely stupid because he knows.' Five sounds strained. His breath is loud enough to hear from several feet across the room; Elliott doesn't know if it's because the room is quiet or Five is loud. 'He must know on some level that I'm always going to come back to break his fall. Maybe they all do.'

For an extended moment, nothing followed Five's muted words. Elliott feels like a haunting in the doorway. He shuffles uncomfortably from foot to foot. He doesn't know if Five is talking to him or at him, or perhaps neither, maybe he's already forgotten his harmless new acquaintance was still in the room completely.

Elliott is overwhelmed with unbelievable curiosity and debilitating ignorance; he doesn't know the first thing about any of these people, or their closely guarded secrets. He's not sure he even experiences the same reality as them, so he is not sure he understands Five's hum of suppressed anger - if it is in fact anger at all.

Suddenly, he wants to leave. The room feels smaller, more intimate and it's like he doesn't belong in his own living room. He doesn't know if he was meant to ask, but he does.

'So then... why?'

It's all he gets out, not a entire thought but at the same time a fittingly complete question. Why?

Be that as it may, he doesn't expect Five to answer. Elliott isn't sure exactly what he is to this kid--alien--person, or what purpose he is meant to serve here, but he is almost certainly sure it is not Trusted Confidant. He may very well be superfluous furniture to any of them, even in his own house.

It's an eternity before Elliott decides to pull himself away, escape whatever surreal little bubble is suffocating him in this doorway. The unadulterated exhaustion in his sore joints and bones is slithering up the back of his neck all at once.

He's suddenly startled by a hand reaching out from the darkness beyond the door. He's pulled an arms length toward what turns out to be the dark figure of The Girl, who raises a finger to her own lips. She doesn't speak and doesn't move, and Elliott stares into what features of her face he can make out in the poor lighting, but she's clearly already focused beyond him. Her expression is absolutely opaque as she looks toward the weak light spilling out of the main room doorway.

It's futile now, he thinks. He is certain they are completely out of earshot when he hears it - or maybe he doesn't, the voice is so incredibly fragile and quiet and young that Elliott is sure it belongs to no one in this house that he knows of.

Perhaps it was a pining spirit passing in the night, the sound of it’s longing confession diffusing instantly in the air as if never spoken at all.

'... It's because I love them.'

[mooity]

just read your post about “ what ccs do Twitter actually like?” and as an avid twitter user I hope you don’t mind me putting in my opinion

I can understand when cancellation and/or the want for the cc to address something (saying slurs in the past, saying something super offensive on stream ect..) but I swear if a cc doesn’t do something a group of people don’t agree with they get send an immense about hate and demands to “address it”

a more recent situation I can think of is when Tommy replied to Dreams pastebin with a joke tweet. It was harmless in all sense, and is expected of Tommy. but some people got pissed. It was quite weird to read, people were mad he never seems to talk Dream seriously and that he “joked under a serious thing”, keep in mind when doing this they completely disregarded the fact many other ccs made jokes under Dreams tweet...

Like, it’s ok to not like a cc or watch them but getting mad at every little thing they do is ridiculous and court productive in all ways. some people tired to mask it as wanting to teach tommy. Teach him about what? I have no idea.

all I’m saying is people need to lighten up and learn that if they hate a cc so much then they can just mute them and move on with their life

of course you can add your opinion! I am always happy for people to slide into my ask box :]

''if they hate a cc so much then they can just mute them and move on with their life''

THIS!

I understand wanting to educate a cc that makes a mistake or is ignorant on an issue but I will never understand people who continually watch creators they don't like/are offended by. I swear some of them do it just to make threads about how much they hate said cc. I used to follow some people who would complain every time schlatt would post a video like it's some big surprise he said something offensive. Just unfollow and move on.

''people were mad he never seems to talk Dream seriously and that he “joked under a serious thing”''

I love how people forget that ccs are in fact people and do in fact speak to each other privately about things. Also, when will they realise that dream is a fully grown man who would tell Tommy if he didn't want him joking about something ?

Teach him about what? I have no idea.

I don't think they really know either. Normally they're all just linking the same carrd (which normally has no information sources, wrong info and is incredibly hard for dyslexic people like me to read) or thread and saying ''Tommy read this.'' it really takes away from actual issues too when they make fusses out of nothing and things they don't understand.

and don't get me started on the doxxing. I've seen so many twitter users who think its okay to doxx people that it's actually upsetting.

and the people who purposefully dig stuff up in order to start drama.

gross.

life is so much better for everyone when you just cut out the things that make you unhappy.

[maladaptive-ninja-returns]

It’s The Avengers (03x05)

Loki x Reader Avengers The Office AU (Slowwwwww Burn)

Season 3 Episode 05: Oh no! My Insecurities!

Series Summary: Living in the Avengers facility post-apocalypse in a better timeline   Tony Stark has decided to capture every moment by pulling The Office on the Avengers. All of housemates are pretty used to the idea except for you, who had just come here to finish her degree, and the newest member- Loki.

Warnings: one those tropes. one of those sexy sexy tropes

Word Count: what is the science behind wanting to eat so much junk when one has money to spare? I would really like to know so that I can ask my brain how it work without it for sooooo long and then one day decided to go batchit crazy. Maybe I was eating away my insecurities. But then again, when I was anxious I lost weight like anything because I just cuold not bring myself to freaking eat! What is it body and brain?! What makes you crave that dirty dirty foood! *gollum’s voice* tell me you filthy animal!

MASTERLIST in bio, darlings. Tags are open (check bio)

Tony stood in the kitchenette in front of a mixer, adding in a variety of green vegetables present in front of him, a tune on his lips in the form of a whistle that only stopped when he crossed eyes with the camera.

“Oh, hi! Didn’t see you there! I’m just here making myself an amazing green smoothie. Good for the heart and the head.”

Tony took in a lungful and turned the mixer on with a satisfied sigh leaving him. “What a beautiful day, isn’t it?”

The camera panned out to watch Vision walking into the Lounge, a blank expression painted on his face as he tilted his head to watch Tony at work. “You seem quite chirpy today,” he stated the obvious.

“I am. I have made quite the progress in my therapy and I am beginning to feel so much lighter than I was ever before. Letting go of stuff that worries me, you know. Aah, it feels good to not care about a thing in the world.”

The camera settled on Vision’s face. He blinked and tried to furrow his brows as he had seen everyone else around him do. “So, you no longer care about Y/N?”

The mixer was turned off and the container opened to pour the contents into a glass. Tony chuckled. “Y/N will be fine. Loki is there with her. Carol will be meeting them soon enough. I don’t have to worry about much. I’ll look at the footage once I get time from my mini-vacay I’ll be taking in our backyard. You should come too.”

Vision straightened his head and nodded. “I would love to,” he acknowledged the invitation while taking his potion of the green juice offered by Stark, “and I have to say Barton’s worries were wrong about you.”

“What worries?” Tony asked, a bit disinterested, taking a sip of his smoothie.

“That you would, and I quote, ‘go apeshit when you find out that Y/N dawned the role of Dominatrix seducing Loki to help him escape the clutches of a space sex slave trafficker.”

The glass went away from his lips with one smooth movement of his arms. “Say what now?”

Vision had already drained the glass. “He was referring to the whorehouse they escaped from yesterday. Y/N has quite the talent when it comes to weakening the guards of the male of many space creatures. It is quite extraordinary to witness someone so guarded and introverted like her completely expose her-”

His words are halted by the sound of glass breaking. The camera panned out to watch wide-eyed, visibly in shock Tony looking into a void before turning to meet Vision’s gaze.

“Oh shoot. I accidentally let the glass slip from my hands. Butterfingers,” Tony lied. Like a liar. “Don’t worry, you go ahead. I’ll clean it up.”

A natural shade of worry came over Vision’s face, silently staring at the shattered glass and Tony for a few seconds before seemingly coming to terms with it. “...okay. As I was saying, Y/N has quite the talent when it comes to slowly and tenderly pulling apart, one by one, her-”

The entire batch of vegetables was pushed into the sink and the garbage disposal was turned on, drowning Vision’s words while Tony deadpan looked at the camera.

Vision: Acting skills *blinks at the camera* I was trying to tell Tony about Y/N’s acting skills.

“Tony, are you alright?” Vision asked over the crushing of a fresh carrot being shoved down the sink.

“I’m fine,” Tony stretched his lips in a smile while his eyes never let go of the horror, shoving the biggest gourd from the vegetable pile down the sink to murder it while the camera zoomed in on his disturbing expression, “everything’s fine.”

Vision’s golden pupils contracted as he looked at Tony and then up at the camera.

Vision: *sombre mood**holds a cigar in his hand**looks at a distant void* All these years saving the earth, I think Tony has forgotten the meaning of keeping things light.

*turns at the camera* Hm? Oh, no I am not smoking this. This is for adding an intense effect to the conversation *smiles* Rhodey and Sam taught me that.

 The Facility Entrance

One camera looked down from the first floor at the dark skin plump lady entering the facility with Happy, being directed towards the elevator. “Who is she?” The camera swivelled from the stranger disappearing downstairs to a curious Scott bending way more than he should over the railing to get a good look at the stranger. He would have almost tripped over if it weren’t for Rhodey grabbing his pants when he did.

“I was just checking for ants on the roof down-on the uhh ceiling there,” Scott tried to explain himself while trying to sound cool and casual- nothing like a normal human about to fall face-first on the ground floor.

“Yeah, and I was looking for a dumb chimp set free,” Rhodey mocked a laugh before gesturing him towards the lounge.

“I would consider myself more of a Panamanian white-faced Capuchin,” he muttered under his breath as he followed the man.

In the lounge, Vision stirred cream into his cup of coffee while Tony seemingly brooded in front of the flatscreen. 

The camera looked at an unaware Tony turning his head from the screen, first at Rhodey and then at the elevator when it dinged at the arrival of the woman.

Tony got up as the woman stepped foot into the lounge, taking in the place around her. “What are you doing here? We didn’t have a session today!” Tony called out with his arms open to display his surprise, his eyes bouncing in question from Happy to Rhodey.

The woman in a Mauve dress handed her coat to Happy while passing a look at the cameras around the lounge along with the company. “I was called by a concerned friend about you having an episode here this morning.”

One of the cameras panned in on Vision taking a sip of his coffee while sharing a look with it before disappearing out of the lounge through a wall as quietly as he had come.

Tony stuttered in shock, unable to get words out of his mouth. “Wh-ha-wh-I did NOT have an episode!”

The woman looked at him with a dead expression, not even blinking. “So you did not force a gourd down the garbage disposal?” she asked in a low pitch, even Scott felt a tingle of horror down his spine.

Tony paused for a second before crossing his arms across his chest. “The gourd was rotten,” he simply stated.

“For sleeping with your daughter?” came another dead snap from the lady, leaving Scott’s jaw on the floor with a muted ‘what’. And Tony’s eyes went wide with rage. “HE DID NOT SLEEP WITH MY DAUGHTER! HE SO MUCH AS TOUCHES HER WITH THE WRONG INTENTION, IT WILL BE HIM INSTEAD OF THAT GOURD IN-” Tony paused to look around the room, realising what he just did.

“Congratulations, Anthony,” the lady exclaimed with not even an ounce of sympathy in her voice, “you just played yourself. Now sit yo ass down before I have to whoop it like the time when you and James broke curfew to go party at night.”

Rhodey gasped in full offence. “Mama, why you gotta bring me in every time he does somethin’ wrong?!”

Scott gasped again, looking right at Rhodey, “She’s your mama?!” The delight on his face and in his high-pitched voice was immeasurable.

“You wanna find out, come sit on the couch next to yo brother,” she replied, pointing at the sofa while she herself took the comfy armchair and got her reading glasses and notebook out of her purse.

Rhodey stood there contemplating for a second before giving a nod. “You’re on your own, Anthony.”

Tony sat down on the couch. “Traitor,” he called out to Rhodey’s figure walking away.

Scott folded his hands in front of him and turned to Mrs Rhodes. “What can I get you, Mrs Rhodes? Tea, coffee, juice, Pina Colada?”

Mrs Rhodes smiled at Scott. “Tea would be nice, darling. Thank you.” And turned back to Tony only to be distracted by the image of you and Lulu sitting in what seemed like a parking lot of some Motel made in modern Egyptian architecture. You stroked Lulu’s hair while he purred when Loki walked out of the entrance towards you.

“We got a room. Come on,” he mentioned before walking towards a patio with you and the rest.

“Is that-” Mrs Rhodes did not say anymore as her eyes still tried to come in terms with what she was seeing.

“A live feed with eight-hour delay coming from one of the cameras they have with them. Javier’s behind the camera. He’s a sweet boy. And that dark-haired beast is Loki,” Tony grumbled under his breath, his eyes never leaving the God on the screen.

“I don’t care about him,” she announced, horrified, “what in the name of Christ is that damn thing walking around with your daughter?!”

Tony looked back at the screen, confused. “That’s Lulu. It’s some cat-like alien she adopted. It’s harmless. All it does is hoot and chirp all day.”

Mrs Rhodes’ eyes went away from the screen to a distant void to contemplate something inside her head. “You daughter. Adopted. An alien.” Turning towards Tony with those judgmental eyes of a mother, she almost sang, “Now, who does that remind me of? Honey-” she called out for Scott without taking her eyes off Tony- “might as well keep a bottle of scotch ready for me.”

 Fifteen Minutes Later

The camera was now settled outside the Lounge in the balcony with a sneaky Scott looking inside past Tony and Mrs Rhodes at the flatscreen. He was so engrossed in his OTP’s movements, he did not sense Sam walking down the stairs from the garden-cum-bar on the roof. Sam, on the other hand, looked at the man with pure judgement before settling down on the lounge seat behind the strategically set plants in front of the window. “‘Sup, stalker.”

Scott sighed. “Come up with another name, I can’t hear what they are talking about.”

“Why would you want to hear what Tony and Mrs Rhodes are talking about?”

“No! Not them! Y/N and Loki! Tony kicked me out because he’s having a therapy session. I don’t care what those two are talking about. I want to find out what is going on between those two!”

Sam shrugged. “Use their earphones man,” he pointed at Ana behind the camera, who took two wireless earpieces out of frame before handing it to them.

“...just two people staying at a motel for the night. Not to mention stuck on another planet with no one but each other to trust. Now tell me what is not to your liking here, Tony,” Mrs Rhodes’ voice echoed through the earpieces.

Tony head slumped on the headrest of the sofa as he watched the feed.

You entered the decently spacious room coloured in themes of sandy yellow with patterns of blue halfway on the walls, putting your backpack down on the table in the middle. “Wow! This looks so much more decent for a space Motel,” you appreciated.

Loki dropped the bag he was carrying, almost receiving a wince from you. “Careful! The Hardy boys said half of this stuff is to be handled with care.”

“They are shurikens, tasers and canisters of medicines. I think we’ll be fine, darling. And what is with you adding space to everything you see here?”

You swiped a finger at the window sill, impressed at it having gathered no dust at all. “What should I call it then, space buddy?”

Loki paused before letting loose the slightest smirk. “Learn the names of the places you visit. And the people you meet. And the objects you discover. You never know when it might become handy.”

Mrs Rhodes raised a brow at Tony, who was frustrated at not finding any window to point his fingers at Loki.

“Oh, I never thought about it that way,” you stated, before turning away from the windows view to a beautiful garden outside. “So, who’s taking the couch.”

Javier called dibs by jumping on the couch before anyone of you could say something, leaving you and Loki to look at each other before looking at the lone bed.

"Loki," you sang in a suspicious tone, "there is only one bed."

Both Scott and Tony felt their bodies pause everything to lean a little towards the screen.

Loki too, stood still by the foot of the bed, exactly opposite to you. "The receptionist said she can loan us an extra mattress."

You raised your head and your brows. "Did she now." Taking a casual step towards the edge of the bed you stopped you saw Loki cover the same distance as you. "You know, I have had a looong journey. And a space journey on top of that-" you let your finger run itself over the edge of the white sheet covering the mattress- "not to mention I'm a weak little human. So I should-"

"Before you finish that sentence," Loki interrupted with his raised finger, "might I remind you of the one thing that is keeping you safe in this...space. To fight monsters and horny space young adults-"

"You told me I used 'space' a lot."

"I don't care-” he breathed even before your words ended- “that thing is me. So, as a sign of your gratitude I should-”

Before he could finish the sentence, you jumped over the bed and he followed by a nearly screamed out ‘no!’ in your direction, his entirety landing over you.

There lay both of you, crossed upon each other.

“Ar-Are you seeing this?!” Tony yelled over here, flailing his hands at the flat screen, directing Mrs Rhodes’ gaze at the zero distance between your butt and his body.

“Give me this bed, Loki!!” you declared from under him, your voice almost muffled by the sheets and pillows.

“No, I am having this bed and you can fight me if you want,” Loki announced with his claws in the sheets against the movement of your butt to move him away from you and ultimately from the bed.

While Tony was having a crisis, the camera caught another face outside the lounge window staring at the screen with a dropped jaw and a hand to the heart. Another one stared at that dropped jaw, trying to make sense of it.

“Hey,” Sam called out to Scott before proceeding to poke his arm with a finger, “hey. You okay? You havin’ a stroke? You gotta tell me if you havin’ a stroke. Scott. Scott. Tell me if you havin’ a stroke so I can get up and go. Scott. Sco-”

Sam: *deadpan* Oh my God, he fuckin’ dead.

*silence*

*snickers* *gets out his phone* I gotta text Peter this.

“What am I trying to see here?” Mrs Rhodes finally sighed.

Tony’s face felt like she just punched him in the chest. “What do you mea- that son of a bitch trying to get insufferably close to my daughter!” Tony wheezed and hissed and nearly cried.

“Your daughter doesn’t seem to care,” she laid back into the cosy chair while looking at the screen with keen observation.

You held the edges of the bed frame when Loki tried to pull you away. “NO! MINE!” you yelled, never ready for Loki’s pointed fingers coming to poke you in your waist. The sound that came out of you made Lulu jump from the window sill and hide under the sofa. “DO THAT AGAIN AND I WILL FART IN YOUR STUPID FACE!!”

“Not before I pick you up and chuck you on the lumpy mattress they will send over-ow, you are heavy.”

Loki was already grabbing you by the waist, ready to pull you away from the bed to the chair on the other end. But he was not ready for the work of your hands, pulling away on the bed sheet to twist around and wrap him in it, covering his face entirely. Your action made him move back with some muffled curses, his back banging into the wall, letting you get a headstart on that bed. But that headstart too was made up for thanks to his weirdly long legs, his arms pulling on your legs to get you off that frame you were hanging on to with your life.

Both of you grunted and fought to claim more territory than the other before the eight-hour travel wore both of you down to panting and tapping out of this messed up wrestling game.

“Time out,” you tapped, “time out. Let’s be adults about this.”

Loki nodded, turning on his back to breathe and get up. “Let’s go take a walk. Get some air. We’ll decide when we come back.”

“Cool,” you gulped in some spit to wet your overworked throat, “when we get back and still don’t know what to do, Javi can sleep in the bed and we choose between the sofa and the mattress.”

Javier knocked on the side table to bring your eyes to him. ‘I don’t want anything to do with this’, he signed before tucking his head under a tide-pod shaped cushion, leaving you and Loki to sort this bedroom tussle.

“What is it?”

“Everything?!”

“I cannot help you until you tell me exactly what it is that is making you uncomfortable, Tony.”

“Well, for starters, the very existence of this son of a-”

“Anthony.” The stress on his name followed by the death stare brought Tony to calm him down and slump back into the sofa. He raised his hands before letting them drop in defeat.

“You know I just met her, right? She just walked into my life, Roberta. Well, of course, that walking in part was something I did without letting her in on too many details.”

Roberta raised her brows.

“Okay, fine. I didn’t tell her at all. But then this guy came in at the same time she did. He not only deliberately let out the truth, making her leave, but also got her stuck in the freaking space with him!!”

“Really? How did you take it when you realised she knew?”

“I nearly had a heart attack! I thought she would hate me, never want to talk to me. Would cut all ties and disappear...in a manner of speaking.” Tony picked up the Rubik's cube kept on the side table to play with it while restlessly moving his leg where he sat.

“And did she do that?”

“...no.”

“Was she angry at you? Or Loki?”

“...no. She was worried. Anxious even.”

“Hmm. Have you felt the same kind of resentment for Loki otherwise? Before he got stuck in space?”

Tony looked up at the screen at the camera flies powering up and buzzing about around you and Loki as you headed out to check the rest of the scenery in that beautiful motel. “There was this one time when he went undercover with her. Something I did not approve of. Neither his presence nor hers on that mission.” He lowered his voice to whisper, “didn’t have to pretend they were on a date for something so serious.”

Roberta closed her notebook. “Okay,” she announced, removing her glasses and keeping them aside. “Before we go any further, Tony, I am sure you are aware why you’re being so sensitive about Loki hanging out with your daughter. Aren’t you?”

Tony shrugged. “Yeah. Because he tried to take on earth once. He can’t be trusted.”

“Mm-hmm,” there went that brow up again.

“...what.”

“Because you are trying to be her father,” she declared with a swat of her notebook on his anxious leg, making it stop. “You are trying to be a part of her life like any normal person. But you are being way too overprotective when it comes to Loki.”

“Oh, I am not-”

“Did he not save your life?”

Even if Tony tried, he was unable to form words in contradiction. “Did he not save her life? Twice? He has been living with y’all for a good amount of time now. In that time, has he caused any problem that might have suggested he is not fit to be around your daughter?”

Tony groaned. “He’s a GUY!!! AND A BEAUTIFUL ONE AT THAT!!!”

“And you think your girl is some dumbhead who does not know that?”

Tony never got the chance to answer that. “You think she does not know how much potential for danger that guy has? She is not blind Tony. Neither is she a child you need to watch over twenty-four seven. She is an adult who can take care of herself. What she needs from you is not surveillance but an openness to letting her know that you are there for her even if you were not there before. And if- this is a big if- if Loki ever hurts her, you don’t have to stand there with a banner spelling ‘I told you so’. You have to hug her and protect her. And in the name of whatever Lord it is that you pray to, Tony, you have to stop projecting your guilt like this. Her getting lost in space was not your fault.”

“How did you-I never told you half of these things!”

“I have ways to get it out of people, mister.”

“Rhodey,” Tony hissed.

“No!” Roberta swatted him again, this time on his head. “No one blames you for that incident. Neither should you. You hear me?”

Tony nodded with his lips pressed. “Yes, ma’am.”

“So, what is the first thing that you will be doing now?”

Tony clicked his tongue while looking at the flatscreen. “I will...stop making missiles loaded with Loki’s DNA signature designed to blow him up.”

Swat!

“Ow! I’m kidding! Jesus, woman! I will stop guilt-tripping myself and I will stop worrying about Y/N. But that does not mean I will stop working on ways to get her home.”

“And?”

“And...I will be nicer to Loki.”

“Even if he starts dating your daughter?”

“WHYYY would he-” Tony looked at a very serious Roberta looking at him to complete that sentence. “Theoretically. Theoretically, if he starts dating my daughter, I-” he inhaled- “will mind my own business. But you can’t change me in a day. I’ll go after his knees if he does something that directly affects me.”

Roberta clapped her hands together. “Well, we are done for today. We will try some breathing exercises on Thursday along with exploring more of this relentlessness with Loki. Now, go get yo mama some iced tea.”

Tony chuckled at Roberta’s enthusiasm. “Okay. Which one? Peach, lemon, uhh-”

“The one with Long Island in it,” she ended, shifting to the sofa to watch whatever was going on in space. “And bring me some popcorn.”

 Motel Galacto-Ra, Eight Hours Earlier

“Loki?”

“Hmm?”

“How are we paying the rent for the night?”

“With our bodies. Ow!”

He chuckled even though his rub hurt from your elbow. "I borrowed some talons from your boyfriends when we left."

You crinkled your brows. "And by borrowed you mean…"

Loki simply shrugged and kept walking through the garden with you. The flowers, some colourful, some transparent to your eye, were in full bloom along the strip of water that flowed from the mountain at the entrance outside.

"Keep me updated on what all is precious on any planet we land, okay? In case I have to barter with someone, you know," you added casually.

Loki smiled at you while you were distracted by the sound of mushing potatoes from your other side. You turned to watch a creature with what looked like boils on his entire body and four arms lean by a lamp post. His green coloured beard hid most of his face but not his beady red eyes looking at you while he grunted. "Lookin' sparkling baby!" He catcalled you, making you mock a disgusted laugh out your lungs.

"Oh my God, there is catcalling even here?" You gasped in whispering tones to your company, continuing to match pace with the God.

“This universe has all sorts of elements, darling,” he sighed, “even the perverted kind.”

“Mmm, I could see that with your old ex-boyfriend in that whorehouse,” you slipped in, watching him watch you from the corner of his eyes. It was hard to keep the giggles in after a few seconds. “Hey, I’m not judging you,” you added, “in fact, I’m in awe. I wish I could have half of that confidence to pull something this big off. You have to teach me. Loki, you have to teach me.”

Before Loki could speak, an eerie whistle came from across the garden. A curvy alien with those Disney-female eyes and tentacles for hairs cooed at Loki. “Look at that fibre making up your limbs. Arrrr! Leave that little thing and come over here, you feisty beast, and I will show those beautiful parts of yours some good time.”

You had to blink yourself to the reality of having to hear those words. Loki ignored it. But the fly cameras could see you didn’t. “He’s more than just a body you space holes! Buzz off!”

An involuntary smile was already coming over his lips, the corner of his eyes crinkling as his lips parted to show his teeth to anyone who was looking. The entire emotion looked so alien yet so beautiful on him. And in the midst of this cheery daze, he opened his pocket dimension to take something out. “Here,” he called out to you softly, bringing forward his hand towards you, “keep this on you.”

Curious and bedazzled by the walnut-sized purple crystal in his hand, you took it with sounds escaping your lungs. “Thanks, Loki. Looks expensive. Wait-” the excitement in your eyes shifting to horror- “is something wrong? Are we not safe here? Are you going to sell your body off to the owner in exchange for the rent? Will I have to find my way back alone? I don’t want this! Let me go talk to the manager.”

“What? NO! Why would you think that?” Loki was truly horrified at the turn it took. “My body would sustain you for your lifetime.”

You thought about it. "Hmm. You would make a good stripper."

"I would make an amazing stripper."

"Ehhh you need a little work though. You didn't do much at Hudson's."

"Hudon. And that's because I was put there against my will. If I wanted I could."

You stared at his unadulterated joy in admitting. "What." Your lips could not stop the smile that was nearly closing your eyes before a snicker left you. "Oh my God, you are so cute," you confessed softly.

Loki tsked and rolled his eyes. "This pendant is for your protection. Keep it close. And take this too."

He opened his pocket dimension again to bring out a small dagger.

"OoooOoooh a KNIFE!" you hissed with excitement in your eyes, going for it while Loki pulled it away from your hands.

"Woah! Calm down, woman! You need to learn how to use it first."

His arm blocking your shoulders did not let yours reach even inches close to the dagger. "Argh! All I need to do is point and stab! Gimme!"

"No. NO! Stop it. You're only getting this when you promise you will use it only in case of emergencies."

You let his arm balance all your weight when you stopped going for the dagger and let your arms dangle on either side. "Ugh. Fine. You can teach me how to use it. Now please give it to me!" When he didn't, you broke into a strong.

"Give it to me, give it to me, give it to me, baby!"

Both of you felt a sudden chill in your body. "I don't know why I suddenly miss Clint."

"Me too," Loki added with quite the discomfort on his face.

.

“Okay. Follow my instructions by the letter and remember- one move too fast or too slow and it can be the end of you.”

The camera in the flies now zoomed in on your dead expression. “Way to start a lesson on a new skill, Professor,” you spewed.

“Now show me how you hold your dagger.”

You showed him. He pressed his lips and kept his hands on his waist. It took a lungful to get him to speak again. “We are not cutting peppers here, Y/N.”

“How about your hair. Can I cut that?” Loki swatted your hands coming for his locks. “Ow!”

He positioned himself behind you, patting the side of your shoulders. “Straighten your back. Come on.” When he saw you taking your sweet time with it, he poked with his finger on one side of your back, making you jolt forwards.

“Hey! It’s straight! My back’s straight. My boobs are out. What more do you want?!”

“Here.” He lifted your right hand with his. The dagger was shifted in your palm by his pale fingers going pink at the end. The hilt was positioned before his fingers curled yours over it. All through it, the distance became a bare minimum; your back touching his chest while your hair tried to tease his face. “The dagger will always stay away from you,” he stated softly with an ounce of seriousness mixed into his voice. “When the enemy is close to you, use this style to slash him. Run it the opposite way-” he directed your arm with his, his hand still around yours- “and when you come back, your turn it to give them one more wound.”

“Cool,” you exclaimed. The glow on your face along with that undiluted smile stuck till your eyes were something else entirely. This was some unadulterated joy you were feeling, learning to play with knives. Loki was watching your face from the side, not really able to digest that rush properly.

Loki: I have never seen anyone so happy to play with daggers. *shakes his head lightly* *smiles at a distant void* *camera zooms out behind him to show you swishing your dagger in the air in the garden while yelling ‘taste the metal of my shuriken, Sasuke! You unfuckable, overrated snake!*

*camera comes back to pan onto Loki’s face with a smile frozen but the eyes reflecting a newfound horror*

“Now, this one is for long-range combat. Always keep your arm straight and gut your enemy like this. Your other arm will help block and push in defence while this one will attack.”

“Ooh!” you whistled, “this one will go stabby stab.”

Loki exhaled. “Yes. That. Come on. Let’s play it out and see how much you have learned.”

You cooed, moving the dagger in between your fingers quite invitingly. “Roleplay. I like it.”

You positioned yourself opposite Loki. “Ready when you are.”

Within two long strides, he closed the distance, his hand coming for your left arm, trying to grab it. You turned against the pull of his force, to arm the dagger right into his back. “Stab. You’re dead,” you declared.

You couldn’t help chuckle out loud at his expression. “What! Natasha taught me a few moves.”

“When?”

“Remember our weekend getaways?”

“Oh,” Loki was impressed. “Again.”

This time he shed a little part of precaution and came for you. You ducked and blocked one dagger coming for you but missed the other. “Stab. You’re hurt,” he stated right before your leg came for his, bringing him down on one knee, allowing you to point your dagger at his defenceless ribcage.

“Stab. One for one,” you smiled.

His arm wrapped around yours, leaving you with no way to use the dagger it held. His other hand came for the fist you were about to throw at him; his toothy grin smack in your face. “Not laughing now-”

The impact of your leg with his crotch was not a clean shot. But it did the job. Loki’s words drowned in the pool of his own groans as he stumbled over you and you hit your back on the ground.

The flies roaming above took an air-shot of Loki’s grousing figure toppled over you while your expressions reflected a wave of embarrassing cringe you were feeling in your gut. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, cautiously patting Loki’s head.

“Natasha teach you that too?” he grunted with curiosity.

“...yeah.” You screwed your eyes shut, never stopping the gentle stroking and patting of his hair. “Your hair smells nice?” you tried the encouraging words.

You: *sorry expression* It was a fluke. I never meant to hurt him…*cringes* *whispers* or his potential babies? *camera pans out to show Loki breathing in and out throw his mouth while bending his legs and repeating it* You need an ice-pa-

Loki: *jumps away from you* Do not come near me.

You: Come on, Loki. *steps closer* It was just bad luck. And a very very lucky shot.

Loki: No. *walks out of the frame* I’m going back.

 Motel Room

Javier's face came into focus as he adjusted the lens on his new- much lighter- camera while checking the live feed on his old one before turning the latter off and packing it to keep in his backpack gifted by the Hardy Boys. The view then flipped to you coming out of the shower in a black tank top and matching shorts.

"This is really comfortable. I should have asked the boys to pack me more of this fabric."

Loki sat on the floor with a device that produced a holographic map of the galaxy they were in right now. He shifted the view with a serious look on his face. You paused the little serotonin rush to sit down on the fuzzy carpet with your knees close to your chest. "So, where are we going next?"

A heavy breath was taken in before Loki pinched out to a location. "Knowhere."

"Nowhere?"

"Knowhere. I know someone there who might be able to get these cuffs off me. Once I'm free I can use the magic to teleport us to a safe place, if not back home."

The crinkle of confusion in your brows was something he saw coming. "Teleportation costs a lot. It takes a toll on me. So I have to make sure I have the required tools and energy before we make the leap." 

“...oh. So, back when Cassie and I were stuck on the...uh…”

“Oh,” Loki sat up, “that...was a pure adrenaline rush. And it was only for a matter of seconds so it was easy.”

You did not seem convinced by his words. But something else took dominance in your thoughts. “I’m sorry you had to visit that place because of me.”

Loki simply shrugged. “No big deal. I could do it again if I wanted to.”

*somewhere on earth eight hours later, in the Avengers facility, a Scott Lang clutches his chest and winces*

“Come on let’s sleep. I’m tired from all the training.” You got up and made your way to the bed.

“We didn’t decide on who gets the bed yet.”

“Yes we did-” you were already under the covers, the cosiness making you whimper with ecstasy- “we’re both sleeping on the bed. It’s big enough for both of us.”

Loki thought for a moment before walking to the other side of the bed. “Fine by me. But fair warning, a lot of souls will die wailing tonight.”

You adjusted yourself well, nearly drowning in the fluffy blue duvet, over you. “The only thing killing any souls will be my post-travel farts. I’d suggest you get another duvet from the closet.”

The camera panned in on Loki’s face as he began his ritual of taking off his shoes. “You know, I used to think the reason you do not have any suitors for yourself is because of the over protective elements in your family. Now I’m thinking it might have something to do with you and your tendency to oversha-and she’s asleep.”

The camera zoomed out to show you already beginning to snore with your lips parted.

“Yup,” Loki whispered in a defeated sigh.

 The Lounge, Night-time on Earth

Tony alone sat on the sofa in front of the flatscreen with all the lights off, drinking chamomile tea. The clock read twelve-thirty and the grounds were silent- except for the noise of video games coming from the Dorms.

Zuko jumped up onto the couch, nudging at Tony’s arm to let him cuddle against the man. Tony, more than happy to open his arm to let the little pupper crawl into the space and settle his head on his thigh, cooed at him. “Hey there, buddy. How are you doing? Miss your mom?”

Zuko looked up to Tony with his pure puppy eyes, making the man shoot a pure smile at him. “Me too, kid,” he sighed, “me too.”

Both of them turned to the screen to watch you and Loki sleep in the same bed. The top angle really did cover everything, though it made Tony wonder how and why did they get such a good angle. Loki’s head rested on one arm while the other rested on his torso above the duvet, still like a log, breathing like a silent river through the woods. You, on the other hand, slept anything but straight. Your body was sprawled all over your side, your legs awry, the duvet slipping down the edge, snoring quite audibly with drool all over your pillow.

“A part of me is glad she has Loki by her side,” he confessed softly to his company, stroking that soft fur with his fingers. “Don’t tell him that.”

There was a stir. Your hands moved. And then your legs. Your brows furrowed and you slowly turned into a fetal position before a whine left your throat.

“Noooo,” you mumbled in your dense, sleepy state, “don’t take me awayyyyy.”

“Huh,” Tony commented, “she sleep talks. Just like her father.” He smirked.

“No!” your voice grew a pitch higher, “don’t let em take me awaaaay.”

Loki was already opening his eyes, his body on alert as he turned his face to watch the tension collecting on your forehead. Up on his one arm, he bent over you; his movement making Tony pause his whole body and perk up Zuko's head at the screen. Only when he grabbed the duvet to come back and put it over you did the two spectators go back to their normal breathing cycle.

You were tucked into the duvet as discreetly as possible before Loki’s hand stroked your hair to calm you down. The little brush of his hand in your hair worked, making you turn and scooch a little closer to him, giving into his soothing touch.

Tony could see the little smile growing on Loki’s lips. “Mother used to do it when I had nightmares. It always worked.”

Once he was content that you no longer were troubled, he receded his hand, turning on his back to look directly at the camera. The serenity on his face added to the lungful of air he took while studying something Tony seemed to have an idea about.

“I know you can watch us, Tony,” Loki began, making Tony’s tensed shoulders drop, “I don’t know how late though. I know it must be killing you to watch your daughter be trapped with a monster like me in some galaxy unreachable. I can only imagine. But I understand if my company does not bode well with you.”

Tony twisted his lips, still stroking Zuko. “You’re right about that.”

“Just to put your mind at ease, I am not interested in anything twisted when it comes to her,” he continued, turning to look at your placid face squished against the pillow, “she’s better than you lot anyways.”

Tony raised a brow at the screen, making the lone camera recording him from the shadows pan in on the confused surprise on his face. “So, you’re saying you made a friend? She’s a friend? Like best buddies or something? Like do you like her?”

Almost as if Loki could read what Tony would say, his calm face turns back to the camera to seem as serious as possible. “She is tolerable. Nothing more.”

“I’m fine with that,” Tony agreed with open arms.

“She’s stronger than I thought,” Loki confessed, letting his head dip into the pillow to look beyond the camera, “I never imagined her to be this composed in such dangerous places. Makes me think she’ll do fine on that dirty old heap of junk crawling with monsters worse than me.”

“Ha ha,” Tony mocked a laugh but kept an eye out to check whether Loki was really playing him or being serious at that moment.

“Well,” Loki turned back to look at the camera, “doesn’t mean I will pass up on any opportunity to make you claw at your skin whenever you see me close to her.” The broader the smirk on his lips, the more Tony could feel a ringing in his whole body.

“You wouldn’t do that,” he whispered at the screen, “you are too high and mighty for such a cheap play.”

Loki’s tongue darted out to wet his lips, that sick smirk still stuck on that wicked face. “I mean, what are friends if not...close. Right?”

Tony paused the stroking again- making Zuko face him and wonder why his good times were being interrupted again.

“Okay Lulu,” Loki called out the camera, that stirred at the name, “get down from there. Sleep somewhere comfortable. Somewhere you do not have me or her in your view.”

The camera shifted, jumped on the carpet, moved in circles before meeting the fuzzy fabric and going dark.

“Yeah, I’m not falling for that,” Tony admitted, chuckling to himself, “like Y/N is ever going to fall for that. She’s smarter than that. I mean, look at her father!”

Zuko did look at your father but with a tilt of his head as if questioning all that Tony just spewed in the disinterested air.

“What,” Tony looked back at the pupper, who tilted his head again, in the other direction, “oh. Is that what you think? That’s it. No more cuddles with me. Go ask someone else for love, you traitor. I’m not buying you any more doggie toys, you stupid pupper. Shoo!”

[bluezey]

Lustrous Grapes

Based on the post this morning about Ian, Barley and Manticore questing in the vile vineyards where the lustrous grapes grow.

Ian, Barley and Manticore made it to the valley where the vile vineyards grow. It looked like the open air temple where the dangerous vines grow is now an overgrowth of brambles that were tough as tree trunks and had spikes sharp as nails of varying sizes, from small bits of fiberglass to thick railroad spikes. The brambles twisted within themselves and grew over ancient booby traps. This turned the open air ruins into a natural labyrinth full of hidden traps, dead ends, and even small areas they had no choice but to squeeze through. Manticore warned the boys to wear old clothes that would be ruined, but Ian was still disappointed when his shirt was torn in two places, and even lost most of a sleeve.

After dodging close calls from traps and climbing over scratching and gouging brambles, the three adventurers found a part of the vineyard that was shaded by vines that were more sharing than darkening. The brambles were less deadwood colored and spiked and more thick green twisted vines, their spikes now soft curly smaller vines bursting with grapes. The grapes looked so enticing that, without even asking, Ian slowly approached a bunch hanging temptingly in his reach.

Manticore flew up and pushed him away. "Don't touch them! They're lustrous grapes."

Ian looked over her shoulder, passed her wing, to look back at them. "They look harmless."

"They're meant to look harmless," Manticore explained. "Not a single warning of their malice. Even their taste is meant to be enticing and delectable. But each grape has a poisonous effect, depending upon how ripe they are. Even the rotting ones cause certain death."

"No one eats rotten fruit anyway," Ian thought aloud.

"You're not supposed to eat any of them!!" Manticore roared, causing Ian to grip his staff and hide behind it.

"Hey, Manticore!" Barley called out, holding back some overgrowth to reveal a tunnel further into the vineyard. "I found something!"

The Manticore left to investigate the overgrown path, leaving Ian alone. Looking back, big mistake.

Ian creeped closer towards the vine, even curiouser rather than warned. Each part of the vine looked delicious and tempting. There were smaller, greener grapes, circular and pearlescent as little green pearls. Various ones showed how they grew and ripened into a darker, luscious purple, in various oblong sizes, and looking ready to burst with juices and flavor. They seemed to eventually shrivel into tempting as possible oblong gemstone shapes, looking like actual, soft, edible gemstones, their velvety skin now thin enough to see the delicious juices inside.

Thinking back to Manticore's warning, instead of being terrified of them, Ian reduced that the less ripe they are, the less dangerous they could be. So, it shouldn't hurt to taste one of the unripened green ones, right? Following that logic, Ian reached for a tiny, innocent bright green one, but plucked the one next to it because it's rounder appearance made it look more plump and enticing. It twisted off with a silent pop, leaving a drop of it's juice behind on the tip of the vine. He eyed the fruit, letting it roll around in his blue fingertips, feeling it's velvety smooth skin and it's thick meaty fruit inside. It seemed the less ripe one had little to no juice in them, while the bigger ones were almost all juice. This made him think the poison was in the liquid ones, so the unripe ones with no juice must be safe, right?

Giving in, Ian curiously tossed the tiny green fruit into his mouth and observed as he chewed. He could feel the meat of the grape mix with the saliva and it tasted... amazing! So savory, so sweet, just the right amount of tart! He instinctively reached for another one, but stopped, feeling like a second one would be dangerous. Oh, now he thinks they're dangerous? But, they didn't look, or taste dangerous. And, how dangerous could one be?

Leaving the vine be, Ian took his steps on the stone ground towards Barley and Manticore, but as he grew close, his steps slowed. He knelt down as he felt weaker, queasy. Giving up his strength to keeping himself together, Ian fell onto his hands, the sudden shift nauseating his stomach enough that he threw up his nearly digested lunch he ate before their quest.

"Ian!" Barley raced to Ian's side, stopping himself from hugging him and instead pat Ian's back as he threw up again. Ian gagged, trying to tell Barley to stop touching him, but instead threw up again.

Manticore stood tall in front of the two, looking down sternly at Ian. "You ate a lustrous grape, didn't you?" she interrogated, tapping her claw against her bicep.

"Hey! Ian would never do something as dangerous and foolish-" he stopped when he heard Ian throw up again, this time more violently as he was down to just the bike in his stomach. "Ah crap, he did."

Manticore knelt down and investigated. "Ian, focus. Which one did you eat?"

Ian tried to point to a green one growing nearby, but quickly went back to throwing up.

Thankfully, Manticore deduced it was a green one. " Okay, a green one. He's just going to throw up until he's completely dehydrated. We don't have much time. We got to get him to a hospital." Manticore carefully picked up Ian so he was comfortable, but can still vomit if he needed to.

"But the quest," Barley thought aloud, but still worried for his younger brother.

"He can still die from dehydration, just slower," Manticore replied.

Barley nodded. "I'll head back to Guenivere the Second and meet you at the hospital. Go!"

Sooner as Barley said go, Manticore swooped straight upward and busted through the overgrowth overhead, covering the sickened Ian from the impact. She immediately flew towards the direction of the hospital. "Hold on, Iandore! Hold on!"

Barley made a beeline out of the dungeon, back the way they came, jumped into his van and drove recklessly straight to the hospital. He was speeding and ignored nearly every stop sign and stop light, but he'll deal with the fallout from that later.

Hours later, he screeched to a halt into three parking spaces in the hospital parking lot, raced into the lobby, and after asking a few questions to some receptionists, found his way to Ian's room, where Barley finally stopped in his tracks.

Ian was lying in the hospital bed, wearing a patient gown, his arm hooked up an IV and a machine monitoring his vitals. He was asleep, with some relaxing music quietly playing from the airport nestled in his ears. In the corner was the Manticore, sitting in a chair and reading a thick book from a fictional series based on real life stories about a troupe of adventurers. With how relaxed she looked, Barley assumed they made it in time to save Ian.

With everything appearing fine, Barley dropped to his knees and gave a long, drawn out sigh. Manticore's ear caught the sound and looked up from her book. Before she could open her mouth, Barley asked, "Is he okay?"

"Now he is," Manticore said as she got up and quietly approached Barley. "We got here by the skin of his dried hide. The doctors hooked him up to an IV to get liquid into him immediately, and then he just passed out in relief. Once I explained everything, the doctors got him settled with everything he needs to get better." The Manticore helped Barley up to his feet.

Barley quietly approached Ian. "How long does he have to stay here?"

"Just a few days," the Manticore replied. "He needs his rest after they detoxed his system to get the poison out. If he gets worse, they're gonna really have to flush his system again." Manticore softly ordered as Barley knelt down by Ian's bed. "Don't wake him. The more he sleeps, the less chance he has to puke."

"I won't wake him," Barley whispered back.

"Good. You watch him," Manticore told Barley. "I'm gonna call your parents."

Barley turned to Manticore, shocked. "You haven't called our parents yet?"

"I was more focused on watching your brother," Manticore replied, starting to leave the room for the lobby. "Now you watch him, I'm gonna step out to make a phone call."

As Manticore left, Barley turned to see Ian's eyes slowly flutter open. Looked like Ian barely had enough strength to open his eyes after the two woke him up. Barley smiled brightly and softly plucked out one of Ian's earbuds. "Hey, Ian," he said quietly and gently. "Glad you made it."

Ian was about to speak, but Barley placed two fingers to his mouth to quiet him.

"No, we didn't complete the quest," Barley explained. "We abandoned it and got you straight to the hospital. I didn't want to finish the quest without you, I wanted to make sure you survived."

Barley pulled his hand away from Ian's mouth. Ian was too weak to smile, so he let his eyes emote for him.

"Don't worry, once you're better, we'll regroup and get those elven emeralds next time. You learned your lesson, right? No more eating lustrous grapes?"

Ian softly nodded. He then grimaced as he heard his stomach groan.

Acting quick, Barley grabbed a trash can and held it up near Ian's face. He was about to pat Ian's back, til he remembered that made him feel worse before, so he just waited for Ian. Ian didn't throw up, thankfully. Instead, he rolled his head onto the pillow so he was looking up at the ceiling and closed his eyes. Barley breathed a sigh of relief, gently placed the earbud back in Ian's ear, and let him rest. Barley turned on the TV, on mute with captions on, and did some channel surfing, occasionally stopping on something good for a few minutes.

Manticore returned to the room to see Barley quietly sitting by resting Ian. After explaining their parents are on their way, she gave Barley some hot cocoa and sat down in her chair with her coffee.

[heyyyharry]

Chapter 12: Daddy Issues

(from the Flatmate Trilogy: Two Hearts, One Home)

…in which Y/N is locked out of her flat with the wrong Styles.

Word count: 3.7k

Chapter 11: Needy - Y/N hates herself for being so needy.

Wattpad link

[ANNOUNCEMENT]: I have an exam on Friday, September 13 so I won't be able to update next week (Wednesday, September 11). The next flatmate chapter will be posted on Wednesday, September 18. 

- Love, Allie :)

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Harry was in a bad mood today. It shouldn't have come as a surprise to Y/N, because he was rarely in a good mood when she was around, but this time she felt differently. At first, she didn't pay attention to him when he walked in looking like he was attending a funeral. She guessed it must've had something to do with the exam he'd had earlier today. It was very unlikely though. He'd never done poorly on an exam let alone failed one. So she eliminated that possibility and told herself to stop second guessing.

"What the fuck?!"

Y/N heard the scream and dashed into the kitchen, only to burst out laughing when she saw him holding the milk carton with milk dripping down his chin. She was going to make a funny comment when he snapped all of a sudden, "why the fuck did you put spoiled milk in the fridge?!"

"So you'd stop drinking my milk without asking." She stuck her nose up, crossing her arms.

"You're a psycho," he muttered and wiped his mouth and chin with the back of his hand.

She watched in amusement as he tossed the carton into the bin and cleaned up the mess he'd spat on the kitchen table. It was hilarious, yet just a harmless prank. The normal Harry would just laugh it off and say something like "I've underestimated you." But the Harry standing in the kitchen with her right now didn't even move his lips. He had the same frown on his face like the moment he walked in and then walked right past her, out of the kitchen. That was when it dawned on her that this wasn't something she could just ignore. But why was he like this? What had happened today?

He didn't have dinner with her that night. She'd eaten alone many times before when he was out with his friends, but tonight she felt truly lonely. Without anyone to rant about her day to, she finished fast, cleaned the dishes on her own and spent the next half an hour pacing back and forth outside his room, wanting to knock, but in the end, she decided to go to bed. Maybe he'd feel better in the morning, she thought while lying awake until she was too drained to keep her eyes open.

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"Hey, love, can I go to Dustin's bachelor party tomorrow night?"

Y/N widened her eyes at her husband who casually poured a glass of water and settled himself at the kitchen table.

"Who's Dustin?" she asked, pulling out a chair to sit down in front of him.

"My roommate in college." He gave her a shrug. "You know, back when I was living at the dorm."

She looked at him funny. "You're still friends with him?"

"Nope. I just ran into him the other day, we went out for a few drinks and I got invited to his bachelor party," he said smugly and lifted his glass. "What can I say? Your husband is irresistible."

The way his eyebrows waggled made her laugh. "Okay, but you're a grown man, babe. You don't have to ask for my permission to go to a party."

"Are you sure?" he asked, resting his chin on his knuckles. "Because bachelor parties always have strippers and all that shit?"

She crossed her arms and lifted an eyebrow. "Are you trying to make me jealous?"

"Well, are you?" He mirrored her expression, grinning from ear to ear.

"Very." Y/N scrunched up her nose and reached across the table to stroke his head. When she stood up, however, he hugged her waist and pulled her in so he could kiss her stomach again and again. It was his ringtone that broke them apart.

"Your dad's calling."

"Just ignore him."

"Harry!" Her mouth fell open when he muted the call and forced her down on his lap. "What if it's an emergency?!"

"It's probably just work," he mumbled, pressing his hands flat against her back as she straddled his waist. She almost got carried away by him nuzzling her breast, but the buzzing of his phone was hard to ignore.

"Just answer the phone, H." She breathed.

Still, he shook his head unapologetically. "One of our investors pissed him off, and as usual, he blamed me for it. It's nothing serious."

"Are you sure?"

Harry didn't answer as he put his phone on airplane mode and faced it down on the table. "There," he said with a grin. "Now...where were we?"

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When Y/N woke up the next day, Harry had already left their flat. She completely understood that he didn't want to talk to her, but she determined to get a word out of him when he returned tonight and maybe apologize. Now all she could do was try to stay positive and carry on with her morning routine.

Y/N always took too long in the shower, yet she could never begin the day without one. This morning, she'd told herself to spend only fifteen minutes in there. Now it'd been thirty, and she was still in the middle of rinsing off her body while belting out the chorus of her new favorite song.

But then,

"FIRE! Y/N! FIRE!"

The girl turned off the shower and poked her head out to make sure it was actually her flatmate's scream that she'd heard.

"THE BUILDING IS ON FIRE, Y/N! WE NEED TO RUN!"

Fire?!

Y/N stumbled out of the shower, holding her breath. She only managed to wrap a towel around her dripping body before rushing to the living room. Harry was nowhere to be seen but the front door was wide open. He had run before her! Of course, he left me here to die! she thought and dashed out of the flat.

But the hallway was...empty?

Peaceful, even.

Wait, if the building had been on fire then why wasn't there an alarm?

She squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her jaw, one hand gripping the towel, the other smacked against her forehead. Damn it!

"Wow, you were fast. At least wait for my fire alarm."

His laughter pierced through her brain and she turned around to find him standing with his back against their door, the Bluetooth speaker in his hand, and the assholest smirk on his stupid handsome face.

She marched straight toward him and pushed him hard. "What is wrong with you?! Why are you such a dick?!"

"You only say the word 'dick' when you're with me, love. I feel special."

There he was, the smug bastard she always knew.

"That was for trying to poison me," he said when she groaned into her palm. "Nice towel by the way. Baby blue looks good on you."

A part of her was still aware of the fact that she was standing in the hallway with only a towel on, but the rest of her was glad he'd stopped being mad at her. So she said nothing and pushed him aside to go before anyone saw her like this. But as she turned the handle, the door wouldn't open. She tugged at it several times, more violently and desperately, only to look up and see the same horrified look on his face.

"Please tell me you have the key," she muttered, knowing already that he certainly did not have the key, yet for some reason, she still felt shocked when he shook his head and put the speaker on the floor.

"Are you joking?! I'm naked, Harry!"

"Calm down, I'll call the locksmith!" Harry grumbled as he searched through his contact list, but then smiled at how his flatmate was pacing back and forth in only her towel.

"Don't worry, you look hot," he said, and motioned that his mouth was zipped shut when she shot him a leer.

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Y/N couldn't believe it.

This morning when her husband left the house, she had repeatedly reminded him to not to forget his key, but now it was she who got locked out of their flat. She'd tried calling him, but he'd had his phone turned off. He never had his phone turned off when he was out and she was home alone, so she guessed all the guys at the party were asked to so and Harry didn't have a choice. Now all she could do was patiently wait for the locksmith to come for her rescue.

Sitting on the floor with her head in her hand, Y/N was too busy cursing herself in silence to hear the sound of the lift and the footsteps coming her way. It was only until the man cleared his throat loudly that she finally lifted her face, and her eyes widened at him immediately.

"Why are you sitting on the floor?" Devlin asked in concern.

Y/N frantically got to her feet as she straightened her dress and stuttered, "I-I left my key inside, but it's okay, I already called the locksmith."

"Where's Harry?"

"He's at a party and not answering his phone."

The answer made the man in the suit sigh as he whispered, "typical Harry..."

"No, no!" Y/N shook her head fast. "It's a bachelor party so maybe they made him turn off his phone. He's very responsible."

Devlin stared at her for a whole second before releasing another sigh, yet he remained quiet. Meanwhile, she stood still and studied his expression. She was waiting for him to speak, but also second-guessing what he was going to say next and why he was here.

"Do you know why he hasn't answered any of my calls?" He asked.

"No, sir..." she cautioned.

That answer made the man frown even harder. "What's the point of having two children when they're never there when you need them?"

Y/N almost blurted out that Devlin hadn't been there for Harry a lot of times too, but considering the fact that this man absolutely loathed her, she thought she should just keep her mouth shut.

"How are you and the baby? Good?"

The question froze her to the spot. She didn't expect him to ask about her and her baby because he hadn't said a word to congratulate them when Harry broke the news to him. But on second thought, if she hadn't been carrying his grandchild, maybe this conversation would never have lasted for more than two sentences.

"Yeah, we're good." She faked a beam, not knowing how to feel, but that concern soon slipped her mind.

The way he stood with his head hung low and hands in his pocket reminded her of Harry whenever he was nervous about something. The thought made her smile, but her father-in-law couldn't see it so he just said, "can you tell Harry that I came over?"

"What's wrong?" Her voice stopped him just as he was about to walk off. "If it's so important then you can just tell me and I'll help you speak to Harry."

Slowly, he turned around and glanced back up to meet her eyes. The Styles men were the same after all. Just like his son, Devlin couldn't say no to this young woman.

After pondering for what seemed like two seconds, he released a shaky breath. The reluctance was still etched on his face, but eventually, he gave her a nod, pinching his forehead.

"I caught my wife cheating on me."

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"Let's talk about something fun!" Harry suggested as his face lit up, but all he received from Y/N was her passive aggressive silence.

They were sitting on the floor and she was naked, probably not the best time and place for a heart-to-heart conversation. But Harry believed he would've already died from boredom and silence by the time the locksmith arrived.

"I have nothing to say to you," she grumbled, crossing her arms, not looking at him.

She was mad, so mad that Harry could imagine smoking coming out of her ears. But there was something about the way she looked right now that made the butterflies in his stomach go insane. He bit his lip, holding back a smile as she kept adjusting the towel so her breasts wouldn't spill out. Why would she even bother to do that? He wouldn't mind. It would help his imagination the next time he shamelessly jerked off to her when he was alone. Jesus Christ, you're one fucked up bastard, said the voice in his head as he shrugged off the thought he would never say aloud and pulled his shirt over his head.

"What are you doing?" She almost jumped away from him but he was quick to catch her arm.

"Here." Smirking, he handed her his white t-shirt. "Put this on."

Y/N stayed utterly still as she stared at him like he'd just committed a horrible crime, and he couldn't help but chortle at the priceless reaction. "It's getting really hard for me to speak to you when you look like this. Please put this on."

Her cheeks reddened in a heartbeat. She parted her lips, wanting to ask what he really meant, but she was too shy to speak so she stayed quiet and put on his shirt. The way he was smiling at her afterward made her feel like she was more naked than before. Her arms automatically came wrapped around herself like a shield as she questioned, "what's so funny?"

"Nothing." He sounded nearly breathless. "You just...look really good in my shirt."

"Oh..." Her face dulled for a split second before she could say "thank you."

Tucking a strand behind her ear, Y/N stared at her feet to avoid eye contact at all costs. She merrily replayed those words inside her head, until she remembered that he'd probably said the same things to all the other girls. Who knew? Some of them might even have his shirts in their closet. Lending a girl his shirt and telling her she looked good in it probably didn't mean anything to him. Now she hated herself for forgetting that he flirted just for fun and for falling for his words every single time. How embarrassing.

"Are you still mad at me?" Harry asked when he saw the way she frowned.

"No."

"I can tell when you lie," he snorted. "Look, I'm sorry. I know that was a bit mean."

"A bit?!" She suddenly snarled at him. "Thanks to you I'm sitting in the hallway, half-naked—"

"Hey, hey, we're both half-naked now."

"Whatever." She rolled her eyes. "You're a horrible person."

"So are you."

"I'm not!"

"You made me drink spoiled milk, Y/N. My stomach is weak, I could've died."

"So I guess we're even now?"

"I guess so." He flashed her a grin and offered his hand. "Truce?"

To his disappointment, she shook her head. "Only if you tell me why you were acting strange last night?"

"I wasn't—"

"Don't deny it. I can tell when you lie," she repeated exactly what he'd told her earlier as she scrunched up her nose. "Just tell me what was bothering you. Was it the exam?"

"No, I nailed the exam," he spoke calmly.

"Then what?!"

The calmer he was, the more frustrated she became.

Y/N couldn't explain why she was like this. All she knew was that it bothered her when he wasn't himself, when he raised his voice at her for no reason, or when he wasn't speaking to her at all. She was desperate to make sure he was alright, that he didn't have to keep his sorrows to himself. Who would do that for someone they claimed to hate?

No, wait.

The actual question had to be: Did she hate him, at all?

"It's nothing," his voice freed her from her confusing thoughts, and so she decided to put them aside to focus on what was more important.

"You wouldn't like to know," he said with a long sigh.

"What does that even mean?" she uttered. "You owe me the truth after all this. If you don't tell me the truth I swear I'll...well, I'll..."

She didn't know where she was going with that, but thank God, he only laughed and patted her knee to tell her to calm down. The simple gesture froze her to the spot, but it also saved her from humiliation.

He took a deep breath as his lips curved into a small smile. "My dad's getting married this weekend," he told her at last.

Y/N pursed her lips as her face contorted. "And you just found out yesterday?"

"Yup. And you know what the worst thing was?"

She shook her head.

"It was his assistant who'd invited me to his wedding." He laughed wryly. "Man, I wished it'd been a prank but, sadly no."

He was doing that again, the whole 'I laugh at my problem so no one else could' thing. If only he knew she wanted nothing more than to pull him into a hug, but all that she was allowed to do was rub his shoulder and say, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," he gentled. "I was mad for just a while but I shouldn't have put it out on you."

"It's okay. I wish you'd just told me," she said, holding their eye contact intensely.

"Were you actually worried about me?" His voice went soft, like the gaze he was giving her.

She wished he would stop looking at her like she meant the whole world to him, when she knew that she meant nothing more than just a girl he had to live with. But then again, she couldn't resist him. She craved for him to keep staring at her this way until the day she died. That would've been the best way to kill someone, staring at them like you loved them until they couldn't take it anymore.

Ignoring the thought, she answered, "yeah, the next time you're mad...just...you don't have to tell me the reason...just let me know you're mad and I'll leave you alone."

"Don't leave me alone."

When he said that, it took her a couple of seconds to realize those were the actual words coming from his mouth. She held her breath in anticipation as he leaned in...closer...and closer...until they were just one breath away. But instead of doing what she'd wished he'd done, he rested his head on her shoulder, completely unaware of how fast her heart was racing for such intimacy. This was so new, yet so familiar, and now she was sitting like a rock as she feared he might pull away if she moved.

The locksmith arrived half an hour later, cursing the traffic as he stumbled out of the lift and mentally prepared an apology. But then he stopped, rooted to the spot as he found two half-naked college students sitting outside their flat, both were asleep, her head on his shoulder.

.

.

.

"Can you believe it?" Devlin huffed and combed his fingers through his hair as his head tossed back against the wall behind them. "A man my age, got cheated on by his second wife. What a joke."

Y/N had been listening to her father-in-law pouring his heart out for what seemed like half an hour already. Now it was time for her to speak her mind although her thoughts might not be something he would want to hear.

"You shouldn't be blaming yourself for what she did. You've done the right thing by asking for a divorce. It doesn't matter how old you are, you should never forgive a cheater."

He didn't reply, but judging from the way his expression softened, she could tell that her words had affected him, a little if not a lot.

"Do you mind if I ask you something personal?"

His question caught her off guard, still, she said no.

"Have you ever thought about what you would do if my son cheated on you?"

"Not anymore."

"So you have." He nodded once as if to agree with his prediction. "Tell me, what would you do then?"

"I would leave him," she said without reluctance. Then came a long pause as her eyes fell back to her feet. "But...that would probably hurt me more than him cheating on me. He's the only love I've ever known, I wouldn't know what to do without him. Guess I'd be half-dead, half-alive."

Devlin took time to think before he spoke, "you really love him, do you?"

"I do," she asserted. "But do you?"

The question, though simple, took him by surprise. "Of course I do," he said. "He's my son. He was the first person I called when I found out about my wife's affair."

"He should always be the first one you call, not only when you're sad or angry or hopeless." Y/N's words hit Devlin harder than he was willing to admit, but she neglected his reaction and continued anyway, "call him when you're happy, call him when you're tired, call him when you see something that reminds you of him, or just...call him to say you're proud of him and that you miss him and you love him. You don't know how much it'll mean to Harry."

She wasn't sure what to expect as a reaction, but it certainly wouldn't be him pulling her into a hug. Her whole body stiffened, only to relaxed all at once as she finally hugged him in return.

"My grandchild is lucky to have such good parents," Devlin whispered in her ear. And Y/N swore she could feel that same dimpled smile she'd always seen on her husband.

Half an hour later, Harry came home, slightly tipsy and smelling like those frat parties he'd wasted his youth on. He hadn't planned on drinking so much if at all, but they wouldn't have let him leave early had he refused to drink. He cursed himself as he stumbled out of the lift with an apology he'd already drafted in his head. But then he stopped, feeling shocked and amused at the same time as he found his wife and his father sitting outside their flat, both were asleep, her head on his shoulder.

[steadystares]

Hard Reset

It is a wonder any thought or practice can yield fruit when the origin is simple indecision.  I have defined myself and my wants, without experience or knowledge.  Though I don’t believe direct guidance is integral to the development of self, I do consider comparative peer discussion come with that immeasurable weight.   A definite asset in measuring internal progress is vocalizing or making it a question in the sentient world, “is this it?!”   

I don’t know if i’ve ever been good.  Not good like, “Nah, nigga, I’m good”, but like a good person.  It’s strange to even posture a statement in such a way, but I sort of understand why I do.  I reduce a lot of my actions down to forms of good or bad that have no direct correlation to any other terms.  For example, good isn’t always equal to harmless and bad isn’t always observable.  In fact, like most people, I’m only ever really trying to observe my actions as good or with positive intent.  Maybe there’s an alchemy in knowing what I can observe has visibility not only to me but others as well.  Several years of processing and attempting to break down, “why” as it relates to the “who” I describe when answering the question, “who are you?”

I can be emotionally treacherous in relationships.  Or I have been in the past.   I’m very full and very empty, very wanting and very ready to deny.  Worse than all of this, I have brewed a passive deception with no real goal or desire… no intention, or reward, or reason.  This is the only true observable “bad” that I’m aware of.  In the pained responses of people I love, my absolute worst is given shape.  People who have earned all of my plea’s and desperate desire to give love, I hurt those people without intention, or without a goal or even momentary relief.   

That’s probably the shittiest way to be; having love that completely encases absolute indifference, nihilism, indecision, goalesness.   

I made a decision some years ago to begin to change this.  Whatever broke at whichever point in my 20′s needed mending.   It needed tending to and then to be minded after for as long as it would take.  Possibly a year or until I’m staring up at dropped ceiling tiles in the ER gasping my last breaths.  I’ve needed to be the undefined “good” I measure my actions against for so long it breaks my heart to think i’ve denied myself that role.

When the feeling of regret swole, moment to moment, my recollections of the terrible thoughtless things I’ve done, I decided to take better care of myself.  

You approached.

I was nervous when I held your arm and poked into your skin with as much care as I could offer.  I saw scars and heard the results of them tell stories and chuckle at my discomfort.  I remembered it being difficult to look you in the eye.  I thought you’d realize I was ugly and we were in a room I try to keep in my moms house and that my dissatisfaction with my life was gearing up to mutate into a desperation.   

I pricked at your skin and realized I never wanted to feel you as a stranger.  This was the most intimate I’d been in a long time and holding your arm felt righteous.

My desperation was going to be steadied.  You are messy with a great discipline and your own desires.  You want a family, and to be regarded.  You want to eventually be the matriarch and I’m seeing myself want to provide this to you.  I want to see you turn into this feeble old stick of a woman.  A grey ghost in linen nightgown thats been worn around the house, and run the wash so often that it has become sheer.  I can see my self populating that life with you as you casually frustrate your way to the top of rock wall or grapple with the obstacle course.

This are our first days.  

You met her, and she loves you.  I was so uncomfortable with how this would be.  I worry about jealousy and retaliation.  I worry about it all the time.  I’ve been in a steady place of discomfort in my own life.  A life  that had been a series of distortions... but seeing her take to you felt good.  I don’t think she’s stopped asking for you since then.  

Is this an adventure? I’m floating in this, and I feel ease and comfort.  There’s an honesty appearing in front of me and I’m trying to chase it but my pragmatism is attenuating my pace.  It is fair to pace yourself.  I’ve fallen for loves an allowed them to overlap and I tell you about how and why and where I feel my failures.  I don’t say that I’m scared of myself and what I do but, who wouldn’t be? 

I’m obsessive about maintaining a composure.  I haven’t any rituals, I just have a series of calculations I service with pristine tools.  I have my musts and mustn'ts and I think you’re a must.  I’ve begun to prepare my tools.  I must prepare my tools.  

You’ll finish your program, and you’ll put every bit of what I see to work and it’ll be marvelous.  This is what a unity is.  Through discomfort, displeasure, abstraction of self... when the gain of is lowered and pure electrical hum drops back you’ll hear unity.  

And all that has been muted by way of fatigue with squeal it’s way back to silence and you’ll hear unity. 

 And  we’ll sit quiet and hold hands and, in that grasp will be unity, 

I’m certain.

Thank you.

You got sick, and I had to decide not to panic.  That is something I can do.  I can decide to not panic.  And I can take my rudimentary understanding of a foreign language and I can find... I’m not sure what...  Asprin?  I can pay double, and find a way back to an air bnb owned by some hippie elderly woman in the middle of the night.

Thank you.

You broke up with me in the airport.  You got loud and I don’t know why.  I still have no idea why.  I grated my teeth.  I don’t like being made a spectacle.  I have not earned that in this place in this time.  

Thank you.

We’re growing and shrinking at the same time.  I cannot manage this distance and the disassociation I’m feeling.

This has been poisoned. Reading, “I”, thinking “we” and wondering “you” and “how” and “when” and what the fuck is a Julie?  I...  this is still exactly what I meant for it to be I guess.  A post to use to reflect and eventually to restate the “something” that happened.  That I felt “dire” at one point about something new.  Something happened that felt viable.  I feel really perplexed and foolish.  I’ve never felt so foolish.  I can’t quiet compare the feeling to anything.  I remember when I was a kid and I tried to make a kite with pencils and lined paper out in front of my mother laundromat.  I’d found string and tape and put the whole thing together in just over 30 minutes. It was small, sure, but man did it look like a kite.  I ran back and forth on the sidewalk for hours towing this string.  Being careful to lay it down just so that the initial jerk would provide enough lift to get this thing flying properly behind me.  

In the end I’d just dragged around some shit I hobbled together and found myself sobbing that I didn’t know why it wasn’t working.  

This is a constant theme in my life.  Sometimes I build the kite.  Sometimes I find the kite.  Sometimes the kite finds me.   But it never seems to work the way I think it might.  

[carni-val]

Brains and Brawn - S.P.

pairing: Sweet Pea x Keller!Reader

summary: [Y/N] has to face her hate for the Southside head-on when her friends Betty and Jughead ask for her help. While working with Sweet Pea, she finds that not all the Serpents are bad.

author’s note: i’m so humbled by how quickly the first part gained notes that i was so excited to post the second part. i hope you guys enjoy this as much as the first part!

Part 1

[Y/N]’s head began to spin at her brother’s words. She looked to everyone in the hallways; the ones that were muttering to each other with their eyes focused on her, the ones that were simply looking at her, and the ones that would only look at her when she wasn’t looking. It was clear in some ways but still foggy in others; this couldn't have travelled as fast as it did and even if that was the case, why would so many people care? Besides, it’s not exactly like her interaction with Sweet Pea in the parking lot was all sunshine and rainbows, it was more like thunder and the downpour he drove her home in the previous day. “Is that what everyone’s talking about?” she whispered to her brother. “Yeah! You’re the hot gossip of the school,” Kevin confirmed. “Everyone saw you leave school with him, but I’m the only one who saw you giving him his jacket back when he dropped you off.” [Y/N]’s mouth fell open at her brother’s untimely giddiness. “Have you been feeding into this, Kev?” she quizzed. “It’s just harmless gossip,” he rolled his eyes. “Well, it’s not harmless to me,” she protested before taking in a deep breath. “Listen Kev, listen closely,” she began but before she could continue, she caught sight of Betty down the hall. When her eyes found [Y/N] with Kevin, they widened significantly as she hastily made her way over to the siblings. “Hey guys,” she greeted the both of them. She gave [Y/N] a look, telling her not to say anything. “Did you hear?” Kevin smirked. “[Y/N]’s dating a Serpent.” “No I’m not!” I shoved his shoulder. “Then what were you doing with him yesterday?” [Y/N] fell silent, torn between her promise to Betty and her need to clear her name. She looked to Betty and her decision was made after receiving the blonde’s pleading look. “We were hanging out,” she shrugged, looking to her brother again, catching Betty’s look that silently told her to keep going. “Because we’re dating,” [Y/N] forced out. Kevin’s face lit up like a Christmas tree but before he could interview me, [Y/N] held her hands up. “That doesn’t mean you can go around spewing information about me and Sweet Pea to everyone at Riverdale High. We’re a thing and we didn’t want anyone to know yet, but it seems like that plan’s down the drain.” “I cannot believe this!” Kevin tried to mute his excitement. “This is like the ultimate love story - the Sheriff’s daughter with a bad boy Serpent? Almost as iconic as me and Joaquin.” “Please just keep it quiet,” [Y/N] urged, hoping that just this once, Kevin would be able to complete this task. “Okay,” he nodded, mocking a zipper across his mouth. “You got it.” “And do not tell dad,” she warned before sending him away. [Y/N] looked to Betty who was sending me a hesitant smile. “You owe me big time,” she told her, slamming her locker shut before heading down the hallway, keeping her head down to avoid everyone’s stares.

As the blue of the sky darkened, [Y/N] walked hastily through the Southside, hoping to make it to Jughead’s before all daylight was gone. He had called her over to discuss what she and Sweet Pea found out at the hostel the previous day and since she couldn’t ask her father for a ride to the Southside, she was left to walk. She kept her head down, hoping not to run into any trouble as she was on her own out here. The wind was chilly, forcing her to wrap her cardigan tighter around her and it made her wonder whether the shivers she was experiencing were from the weather or fear. She had tried to steady her breathing as she lifted her head only to see just how much farther she had to walk. There were only very few people loitering around the open area and besides the curious glances they casted to her, they left her alone. She figured she could get Jughead to drop her off at home afterwards, because if she was this nervous walking through the Southside with the sun watching over her, she was convinced she wouldn’t be able to step out of his tailer when it was just her, the dark, night sky, and the monsters lurking in the shadows. However, some monsters didn't mind coming out in the daylight, so at the sound of a voice calling out to her, [Y/N] wrapped her arms tighter around herself as she quickened her steps only slightly. Another holler her way fuelled her steps to grow quicker. However, her path was cut off as the heckler stood in front of her. The face paint he wore was sloppy; the white paint was patchy and almost powdery while the black paint that surrounded his eyes and trailed down his face made him look like a panda or maybe even a raccoon if his intent was to be threatening. “Back off, I’m not interested,” [Y/N] said, but lacked the confidence in her words. She tried to step around the boy but he blocked her path again, “But I am princess,” he grinned, widening his eyes to give him an unsettling look that [Y/N] thought was the point of the face paint. “Just leave me alone,” she told him firmly. “But what if we never see each other again?” he kissed his teeth. “What a travesty that would be.” [Y/N] looked around through the corners of her eyes to those cohabiting the area. No one batted an eye or even looked in her direction. She wondered if they were aware of what was even going on, but their fixated gazes downward or to the opposite side of the area told her that they were aware of what was going on but they didn’t feel inclined to help her. [Y/N] was in the cage with a hungry lion surrounded by spectators. Just as the boy reached up to touch her face, an all too familiar voice boomed from behind [Y/N], “Hey! What the hell are you doing?” [Y/N] never thought she’d be so happy to hear his voice and she felt the vice-like grip of anxiety unravel from her chest, the closer that Sweet Pea got. Soon enough he passed her and stood in between [Y/N] and her harasser. “Sorry snake, but I’m not interested in sharing,” the stranger sneered. Sweet Pea smirked, breathing out a sarcastic laugh. “She’s not exactly yours to share, is she?” “You trying to tell me she’s yours?” the stranger looked past Sweet Pea’s broad shoulder towards [Y/N]. “Is it true? The snake has a girlfriend as pretty as you?” “Yeah,” Sweet Pea’s harsh tone answered, stepping in the thug’s line of view. [Y/N]’s initial reaction of surprise surfaced on her face before she could catch it. Her face fell when she saw Sweet Pea clutching his blade and pointing it at the stranger’s face. “Which means if you come near her again, you’ll have me and the other Serpents to deal with.” “You really think you can take me on?” the face painted boy questioned, stepping closer to Sweet Pea. The two were almost the same height but the stranger was slightly heftier than Sweet Pea. [Y/N]’s eyes fell to the cross body bag slung around her. Without being too abrupt or moving too fast, she reached into her bag as the boys continued partaking in trash talking. When her fingers wrapped around the small, cool, metal can in her bag, she clutched it and took it out. Her eyes stayed on the scene before her as she uncapped the can of pepper spray her father had given her for moments like this. The sudden sound the can made caused both of the boys to turn to her. “Is it a fair fight now?” [Y/N] quizzed the stranger, pointing the pepper spray towards him as she stood shoulder to shoulder with Sweet Pea. His eyes went back and forth between Sweet Pea and [Y/N]. “You think your perfume’s going to hurt me?” “Perfume? Probably not, but I hear pepper spray’s a bitch to get out of your eyes,” [Y/N] replied. “And if that wasn't enough, the following stab wound should do it,” Sweet Pea added. When the stranger said nothing, Sweet Pea slung his arm around [Y/N]’s shoulders and pulled her close to him. “I think he’s got the message babe,” he told her. “You better hope I don’t see you around,” he said to the stranger before leading [Y/N] passed him. When they were a good few feet away, Sweet Pea and [Y/N] both put their weapons away. “Why didn’t you whip that out earlier?” Sweet Pea nodded towards her bag, talking about her pepper spray. “It’s empty,” she answered. “It’s empty?” he questioned, astonished. “I’ve had this can for as long as I can remember,” she shrugged, remembering that his arm was around her when the weight of it made it hard to shrug. “What are you doing here anyways?” he asked her. “I’m here to see Jug,” she answered as the two continued walking. “I thought you were done protecting me,” she glanced to Sweet Pea whose head was held high. “Jughead would kill me if he found out I let something happen to you.” A part of [Y/N] couldn’t seem to believe that. Sweet Pea could’ve easily kept walking and if something did happen to her, Jughead would never know that Sweet Pea was there in the first place. She decided to ignore this logic seeing as how Sweet Pea didn’t owe her anything that would warrant him protecting her for any reason other than Jughead. “I guess this proves I can protect you too,” she said after a moment of silence. Sweet Pea glanced down at her, unimpressed with her quip. “Your can was empty so if it had to be, it’d be down to me to save your ass again.” The bitter taste that was present when she first saw Sweet Pea was back and stronger than ever. She shrugged continuously until he got the message to unravel his arm from her shoulders. She quickly distanced herself as she felt her blood boil at his presence. “Why did you tell that guy we were dating anyways?” she questioned. “You could’ve easily told him we weren’t but you had to tell him we were.” “Because if I didn’t, the next time he saw you, he’d be all over you again,” Sweet Pea answered. “What do you care anyways?” Sweet Pea raised his brows, “You want me to go back and tell him I was lying?” he hitched a thumb over his shoulder. Just as he turned to do exactly that, [Y/N] grabbed onto his arm, yanking him back in frustration. “No!” she snapped, groaning as she released his arm. “I just don’t need more people thinking that we’re dating, okay?” Sweet Pea was stunned into silence and all of the cocky emotions he was displaying drained from his face. “People think we’re dating?” he questioned, his jaw clenching. “It’s not my fault,” [Y/N] threw her hands up. “If we didn’t ride out on your motorcycle from Riverdale High’s parking lot then people wouldn’t think we were dating.” “So it’s my fault?” he folded his arms across his chest. “Yeah,” she answered almost immediately. “Basically it is.” “Well don’t get too excited, Northie,” he began to stomp passed her. “Believe me, I won’t,” [Y/N] chuckled sarcastically. “Because it’s never going to happen snake.”

[Y/N] was rudely awoken the next morning by her alarm clock. She groaned, rolling over and using her sense of touch to find her alarm clock as her heavy eyes begged to stay shut. Once the obnoxious beeping halted, [Y/N] relaxed back into bed. While she got home from Jughead’s at a reasonable hour, she spent the night going over her interaction with Sweet Pea. While it didn’t last long, it was nice to be on the same side as him instead of fighting him. For the brief moment that they teamed up against what she later learned was a Ghoulie, it felt nice for someone to have her back. Even for the split second that they weren’t fighting after walking away from the Ghoulie, it was nice to be able to speak to him in a civilized manner. At some point in the night, [Y/N] was keen on the idea of having his arm around her again but she didn’t know whether it was a symptom of late night loneliness or not. After discussing what she and Sweet Pea found at the hostel, Jughead had discussed the Serpents; what they stood for and what their jobs were. [Y/N] quickly learned that a lot of the things the Northside accused them for, they weren't responsible for. The dealing of jingle jangle, the aggression that found its way on the Northside - it was all the Ghoulies, not the Serpents. [Y/N] had also learned that Jughead’s dad was the Serpent King and he, by extension, was Serpent royalty. He promised he was leading the Serpents down a better path and [Y/N] believed him. After listening to Jughead talk about the Serpents, [Y/N] didn’t think they were all that bad, but she would never reveal that. At least, that’s what she thought until she headed downstairs for breakfast. She stumbled upon her father speaking to Mayor McCoy. Her distance made it harder to hear, but she made out the words, Southside High, raid, arrests, and today. [Y/N]’s heart dropped at the news; her mind immediately going to Jughead and despite the fact that she wouldn’t admit it, Sweet Pea. Reaching into her bag, she dialled Archie’s number as she snuck out the front door knowing she would need backup for this mission.

Southside High was a lot darker than Riverdale High was; the lockers were a darker shade of blue, the walls that were a sickly grey had graffiti plastered all over them, and groups of students were huddled in different corners of the hallways doing things that [Y/N] couldn’t concern herself with at that moment. She and Archie agreed on causing the least commotion, just to grab Jughead and get out of Southside High before [Y/N]’s father and Mayor McCoy showed up. “Where is he?” Archie asked, looking up and down the halls, ignoring the Southsiders that were staring at them. “Try calling him again,” [Y/N] demanded. As Archie did that, [Y/N] spotted Sweet Pea heading down the hallway and stopping at his locker. The butterflies she felt thinking about his touch returned just at the mere sight of him. While her first instinct was to agonize over this newfound emotion, she pushed it aside as she rushed over to the Serpent. “What the hell are you Northsiders doing here?” Sweet Pea’s tone was harsh when he caught sight of her. [Y/N] resisted the urge to roll her eyes as she stopped in front of Sweet Pea. From a few feet away, she noted some Ghoulies staring at her from down the hall. She grabbed onto Sweet Pea’s arm and pulled it around her shoulders, almost as if it was a shield from their gazes. Sweet Pea’s look of confusion and possible disgust struck [Y/N] like a dagger but again, she pushed her emotions aside. “Calm down, darling,” she emphasized the last word, prompting him to go along with their fake relationship for the moment. “My dad and Mayor McCoy are coming here soon and they’re planning on arresting people; I don’t know who but I wouldn’t be surprised if it included Serpents. You have to get out of here.” Sweet Pea’s body stiffened as he began to pull away from [Y/N]. “Uh oh!” a Ghoulie sang as he and his friends were passing by the pair. “Looks like we have a not-so-happy couple on our hands,” he tisked, stopping a few feet away. “Hey fellas,” he called to his crew. “You think I stand a chance with her when that snake is through with her?” the Ghoulies chuckled in response. “What do ya say sweetheart? You want to play with the big boys?” he smirked, his boys cheering for him. [Y/N] glanced to Sweet Pea whose jaw was clenched so tight, she was afraid one of his teeth would break. His fist was clenched to his side as his arm felt like stone against her shoulders. “Sweet Pea, can you spare your ego just this once?” she placed a hand on his shoulder, trying to get him to look at her. “We have to go,” she whispered. Sweet Pea’s eyes cast down on her, darkness overtaking them but [Y/N] only got a glimpse before she was pulled against his body and his lips were on hers. [Y/N] felt like she was dreaming - was this the sort of dream where she dreamt she woke up but she really didn’t? So many questions ran through her mind; so many emotions through her heart that she simply shut down and let her body take over. With a hand tangled in his hair as she kissed him back, the Ghoulies began to cheer at the peep show they were getting. Upon their commotion, Sweet Pea pivoted the two, showing his Serpent symbol clad back to them and shielding [Y/N] from their gaze. Neither of them broke the kiss once, even after the Ghoulies departed. They were both so focused on quieting the dire need for the other’s touch that they almost didn’t hear the sudden barking of a dog. [Y/N] pulled back, looking down the hallway to see Sheriff Keller storming in with Mayor McCoy by his side and his deputies scattering around the hallways with a couple of K-9 dogs. Her father’s gaze scanned the hallways but despite all of the sprinting teens blocking his vision, he still recognized his daughter wedged between some lockers and a Serpent. “[Y/N]!?” he called, bewildered at what he was seeing. “Go,” Sweet Pea gained her attention again. “Come on,” she tugged on his hand, but he pulled it away. “What are you doing?” Before Sweet Pea could answer, his hands were grabbed onto - one deputy for each arm - before he was slammed against the lockers. The gasp that left [Y/N]’s mouth was lost in the commotion as she felt herself being yanked back by her arm as she watched Sweet Pea be restrained in handcuffs. The cool air that suddenly engulfed her brought her back to the present moment. She stood between Archie and Jughead, outside of Southside High. Without a second thought, she rushed towards the doors that separated them from the raid inside. However, Archie was quick at ceasing her movements, “[Y/N], we have to go,” he told her. “If you go back in there, your dad is going to have your head, come on!” he prompted, pulling her away from Southside High.

“Would you like to explain to me why you were at Southside High with a Serpent?” Sheriff Keller interrogated his daughter who sat on the opposite end of his desk in his office. “I heard what you were going to do so I had to get the Serpents out.” “Why on earth would you be defending those criminals?” “Because they’re not criminals dad!” [Y/N]’s voice rose. “Whatever you think they did, they probably didn’t do it; the Ghoulies are the ones you want, not the Serpents! I had to get Jug and Sweet Pea out of there,” [Y/N] shrugged, her voice calm during her last sentence. “Is he - Sweet Pea - is he your…” the Sheriff sighed as he sat on the edge of his desk, not wanting to say it. “…boyfriend.” [Y/N] realized she had two options here: her first one was to explain to her father that while she and Sweet Pea weren’t really together, everyone seemed to think they were and despite their relationship being fake, she had grown feelings for the Serpent that may or may not have been reciprocated during the compromising position her father found her in, or she could say yes. “Yes.” Because that was easier than explaining to her father why she was kissing a boy that wasn't her boyfriend. “You can’t keep them here dad,” she stood up from her seat. “It’s not fair and you know it.” When [Y/N] left her father’s office, she realized that she didn’t know whether or not the kiss Sweet Pea planted on her was because of the Ghoulies or because of her. She glanced down the hallway that led to the holding cell where Sweet Pea was most likely being held in. Nothing was in her path - there was nothing stopping her from talking to Sweet Pea. There was only herself and if she didn’t talk to him now, she didn't know if she ever would. [Y/N] slipped down the hall and into the room with the holding cell. Sweet Pea sat against the wall, with his head leaning against the bars. His head perked up at the sight of her and when she didn’t find a deputy in the room, she shut the door behind her. The two were silent as [Y/N] made her way to where Sweet Pea sat. She sat down next to him, her eyes falling to the hem of her dress that she was playing with to distract herself. “You were right,” she finally spoke. “I can’t protect you.” “Then why did you try?” The question made her heartbeat pick up in pace; she felt as though she’d already been found out. “Because the Serpents aren’t as bad as I thought,” she finally replied. “Why didn’t you come with me?” “Because I saw the way your dad looked at you and I didn’t want you to get into more trouble than you had to be.” [Y/N] smirked, chuckling under her breath. “What?” Sweet Pea asked her. “I just didn’t think you cared about that,” she shrugged. “About what happens to me.” “Have you been paying attention these past few days?” [Y/N] picked up her head to find Sweet Pea analyzing her. “Because I’ve spent them making sure nothing bad happens to you.” “Is that why you kissed me?” the words left [Y/N]’s mouth like a fountain; a strong but steady flow that splashed its recipient. Whether Sweet Pea appreciated it or not was yet to be determined but his eyes fell to the ground before she could analyze him. “I don’t know what you want me to say.” “Say what you want to say,” she prompted gently. Sweet Pea was silent, deep in thought as if running through what he wanted to say. “It was to shut the Ghoulies up.” The world stood still for a moment, shattering before motion resumed and the broken pieces crashed to the ground. She wanted to tell him that he was lying, that you don't kiss someone like that if you don't mean it. She wanted to ask him if he felt the same butterflies she did; did he feel them when he first saw her today like she did with him? Did he spend the night thinking about her like she thought about him? [Y/N] forced the reservoir to shut. She pushed herself up from the ground as she spoke, “Well, my dad has 24 hours to make something stick and so far I don’t think he has anything on you, so you should be out of here soon; you have nothing to worry about,” she spoke quickly, keeping her tone professional. “See you around,” she shrugged, unable to meet his eye even as he stood up. “I’m not good for you,” Sweet Pea told her, his arms resting on the horizontal bars and poking out from in between the vertical ones. “I don’t think that’s your decision to make,” [Y/N] met his intense gaze, but only for a moment. “[Y/N],” he called her back gently as she headed towards the door. “Do you think I’m a bad person?” he asked when she stopped. [Y/N] turned to look at Sweet Pea who almost looked afraid of her answer. But her answer was simple. No, he wasn’t a bad person. He cared about someone other than himself and while he showed off his brawnier side, he had reasons for doing so. It’s how he protected those he cared about and probably even himself, which would explain why he was so guarded around her. The desire to explain all of this was absent and the desire to do something else with her lips filled that void. [Y/N] strode over to the Serpent, swiftly dodging the bars as she reached out to cup Sweet Pea’s face. When she brought him as close as she could, she kissed him. His arms outstretched so his hands could hold onto her waist and although this kiss wasn't as good as their first due to the cell’s bars, it was still the best and only way she could tell him everything she was feeling. “Like I said,” she whispered against his lips. “The Serpents aren’t as bad as I thought.” She opened her eyes to smile up at Sweet Pea who looked taken aback. “I’ll see you soon,” she promised and with that, she left the room, leaving only a grinning Sweet Pea behind.

[cravenhaven]

Heavy Mist

Hux finds your spice stash and makes you sorry (not sorry) for breaking the rules.

Armitage Hux x Reader

warnings: smut/drug use/rough handling

it’s a whopping 5500 words so buckle up

give it some love on ao3 >>here<<

(posting now that tumblr is letting my stuff appear on the tag finally)

“Captain, join me in my office, if you please.”

You had only just sat down in the officer’s lounge aboard the Finalizer when an unexpected holo came in from the general. You didn’t screen the call. You couldn’t. He had the engineers make it so you couldn’t. You froze in your seat and felt hot blood fill your face as a hush descended on the lounge and all eyes fell upon you. And here you thought you were going to have a quiet evening.

His tone had been devoid of levity, of course. That was to be expected. It was his impatience, evident in how the words escaped through his barely open teeth, that gave you pause. You spared a glance around the room at your fellow officers of the First Order. They knew as well as you did that when he said please all was not well.

You stood and strode out of the lounge as nonchalantly as possible, abandoning your comfortable seat. As soon as you heard the shh of the door closing behind you, you broke out into a frantic power-walk. You were sure the others were in the lounge thoroughly reveling their momentary schadenfreude. They didn’t really like you as it was. Perhaps it was envy. As if acting as the general’s aide-de-camp was an enviable thing at all.

There was nothing glamorous about fetching his fresh uniforms, drafting copy for his unimportant day-to-day correspondence, or handling his schedule. The only thing they wanted that you had was proximity to power. Little did they realize, it was precisely your indifference to it that made you so well suited for the job. The truth was your position sat at the perfect crossroads of Nepotism and Your Lack of Ambition. Your father’s influence could only get you so far when all you cared about was serving your time just to get him off your back.

When you arrived at your boss’s door, you found yourself frozen, badge in hand, ready to scan in. Yet you were unwilling to pass it over the sensor. You took a shaky breath in and then out. This apprehension was not solely due to the expected reprimand. You knew that because you felt a twinge of it every time you stood in that exact spot.

The truth was, you feared him. You would be mad not to. He wielded his position with vicious precision. General Hux would not countenance failure or anything less than his planned outcome. He would crush anyone - ally or enemy- if they so much stepped a toe across his warpath.

More worrying than that, however, was how dangerously alluring you found him.

His ruthlessness. His unforgiving expectations. Even that sneer of his, both when he was displeased and when he was basking his own cruelty. What enjoyment you found in teasing out small praises from a man as difficult to please as this, a man who would just as soon castigate you in front of the entire bridge crew for the slightest mismanagement. Fear and attraction. You were never quite sure which you felt in greater measure. Or perhaps they were equal somehow. One feeding the other feeding the other. Like a snake swallowing its own tail deep in the pit of your stomach.

Despite how you may have appeared in your uniform, all buttoned up and neat, you were no saint. Your reputation back at the academy might have even preceded you were you not a master of maintaining an unassuming artifice. A skill which you needed now more than ever.

You shook your head and resolved to rip off the bacta patch, passing your badge across the sensor and stepping through the doorway with your usual confident purpose.

He kept the lights dim, save for the lamp on his desk. His quarters were surprisingly spartan. His things were immaculately organized. Ghostly blue light flickered across his face as he reviewed something on his holopad. The viewport behind him framed a picture fit for a general’s personal office. Starkiller Base loomed ominously outside, an incomplete titan. In the silence of the room, the click-clack of your austere dress heels pecked away at your ears like a countdown. He did not raise his eyes.

“General.”

Hux motioned for you to sit as he continued his work. As you lowered yourself into the uncomfortable chair across from his, quietly as you could, you peaked at his holopad. Requisition forms. Reviewing them was a task he could easily delegate to you, but he wasn’t above busy work when it was abundant. You stole a glance up at his face. He seemed occupied enough for you to indulge in a bit of harmless leering. The crease in his brow caught your eye. Next, the subtle, fixated purse of his lips. The desire to catch the full, pale-pink bottom one between your teeth intruded on you. Maybe you would bite down hard enough to make him cry out. Maybe a dirty word would fall from his lips.

Maybe he would retaliate by shoving you up against a wall and making you sorry. So sweetly sorry.

You dug your nails into your thigh as punishment for entertaining the vivid daydream to no avail. Your warped mind only switched gears to wondering what the nibble of flesh just above his starched collar tasted like.

Clearly, you had been trapped aboard the star destroyer too long to be surrendering so easily to your imagination.

“Captain,” he said, snapping the cover of his holopad closed and setting it aside. You jumped at the sound and trained your eyes elsewhere.

“My apologies for summoning you during your leisure hours,” he continued tersely, folding his hands in front of him.

He wasn’t really sorry, you well knew. The lip service heightened your suspicions.

“Not at all, General,” you said crisply, never to betray your dread.

He pinned you with a muted-green stare. Your stubbornness saw you meeting his eyes and refusing to look away. You were convinced that these moments were the unspoken tests. Satisfied or dissatisfied - you were hardly ever sure - he sucked in air to speak.

“You enjoy a rare privilege serving under me as I am sure you are aware. I place a great deal of trust in you to keep things running smoothly. You have never made a habit of disappointing me.”

Hux let the words hang in the air, studying your face closely - searching for something. You wanted to take the compliment but your instincts warned that to do so might be jumping the blaster.

“You can imagine my surprise and, indeed, my disappointment at seeing a report cross my desk with your name on it,” he said, every word laced with mockery. “Of course, I had no choice but to follow-up with the claims.” You could not guess the contents of the report but the way he spoke made your stomach drop. The snake twisted and thrashed.

“Sir?” Was all you could manage.

Wordlessly, he leaned down to retrieve something from his right-side drawer. The smooth, shining case was small enough to fit in his one hand. He set it on the surface of his desk.

“Do you recognize this?”

“It’s a standard issue hygiene kit,” you answered. It would contain a toothbrush, shaving accoutrements, a plain comb. Simple yet essential and totally baffling in regard to its presence before you. You looked up at him, your puzzlement evident.

“Very good,” he purred.

You gave him as wry a look as you dared and snorted. “Shall we cut to the chase, sir?”

With spread, slender fingers he slid the kit toward you until it was within your grasp.

“Open it.”

Your gaze flicked between the box and General Hux as you tried to figure out why you were here. It clicked open as you passed your hand along the side. Careful not to make any obtrusive sound, you slowly opened the case. It wasn’t until you really took inventory of its contents that you realized how well and truly fucked you were.

It was your kit. One you only used for the rare opportunity for travel. One you had entirely erased from your own memory. After taking out all your daily use items, all that remained inside was a few stray bobby pins and a small tin of breath mints. But none of those things warranted a report. It was the final forgotten object that scared you.

It was a compact, brushed metal cylinder sitting right where you had left it all those months ago. Mortification and blind rage tore a path through you like a typhoon.

Which conniving rat opened their mouth?

You started to run through a mental list of the people who hated you enough to completely destroy you by reporting this - who could have possibly known about it in the first place. Who had been snooping in your things?

“Pick it up,” he said, interrupting your inner rampage.

You trained the quiver out of your hands and obeyed. Not wanting to waste his time, you twisted the container open and poured out the contents. Six white, unlabeled capsules wobbled and turned as did their warped reflections in the sleek black top of his desk. You watched them until they stilled.

The day you purchased them came fresh to your mind - it was the final day of your leave. Saying goodbye to the beautiful resort planet and returning to the cramped, sterile hallways of the Finalizer filled you with a gloom so potent it impaired your judgment. You longed for a taste of your wild days, when you had a little more freedom, a little more room to be reckless. You purchased six specially synthesized spice capsules from a seedy off-world trader in the local’s market.

The high-stress nature of your work and your willingness to forget how foolish you were for making the purchase had effectively banished the secret spice stash from your mind. You realized what an idiotic idea it was after you only got through security by the skin of your teeth when you did return to your post. The memory shamed you. You had to resort to dropping your boss's name just to be let through. What was it you had told them when they asked what the capsules were?

“Ah, I can explain this,” you said, breezily. Smiling like you were relieved. Hux gestured as if to say by all means.

“I have a particular vitamin deficiency. B12. My body doesn’t process it efficiently. These are supplements, nothing more. I must have forgotten about these ones after my leave,” you explained, daring even to chuckle at the silliness of this whole affair.

“You expect me to believe these are vitamins? They look rather like...illicit materials.”

“It’s a personalized dosage. My family physician concocted it herself. They come straight from her.”

A single, orange eyebrow raised at your explanation.

“This wasn’t listed in your evaluation,” he said challenging you. What did he have the damn thing memorized? You cleared your throat.

“My evaluator didn’t think it vital enough to declare.”

“And who was your evaluator?” Hux said, the wind of catching you out no longer filling his sails.

“My family-”

“Your family physician, of course,” he snapped, waving you off.

You were beginning to think you might get out of this one. Stars, you were so good at lying sometimes it scared you.

“Well, far be it from me to impede your good health.” The corners of his mouth turned up in a mean way. “I insist you take one.”

“I…” you stalled and then smiled, “well I’ve already had one. Just this morning.”

“It wasn’t a request, Captain.” His tone was a warning but he schooled it into something eerily conciliatory. “Where’s the harm? It isn’t vital, after all.”

You bit your lip and smirked, shaking your head. Another test. One you had to pass or else be disowned by your family or worse.

“If it please you, sir.”

“It does.”

You gave him a tight smile as you did some quick mental math. How long did you have before you were full-scale rolling on spice? With a product that’s composition was mostly a mystery to you? Spice could be manipulated to cause all manner of desired reactions. You had experimented with it before. Every batch varied in intensity. The dealer only said that it would “help keep the party goin’”. You picked the capsule nearest to you and prayed it wasn’t cut with anything nasty - or better yet, that you had been taken for a naive tourist and all you held in your hand was a sugar pill and nothing more.

“Help yourself to a glass of water,” the general said, tipping his head toward the decanter tray sitting on a small table at the right-hand side of his desk. There would be, among other things, a pitcher of cool water. You knew this because you often saw to it yourself that it was always full.

“No need.” You raised the pill to your lips and popped it confidently in your mouth. His lips parted as he watched you pretend to swallow it. Then he flashed you his perfectly crooked teeth. It was a smile that left you feeling like this was a test that couldn’t be passed.

“Well,” you said clasping your hands together, “if that is all that is required of me.”

You stood and made to leave.

“Not so fast. I don’t recall dismissing you,” he said, feigning incredulity.

You could feel the pill dissolving under your tongue. A pleasant, sweet flavor filled your mouth. You might have held out hope that it was, indeed, a sugar pill were it not for the spreading tingling across your tongue and lips. You gradually found your seat again.

“Apologies, sir.” Fuck, fuck, fuck. You had to get away now before things progressed much further.

“That’s better. Now how about a drink?” He rose from his chair and stepped over to the decanter tray.

You bit your tongue and murmured your impatient acquiescence. The tingling trickled its way down your throat. For every moment you were trapped in that chair, something new set in. The subtle nebulousness of your thoughts, an increase in body temperature, the most bizarre desire to stroke the skin of your cheek for awhile.

“The cognac, I think,” he said, as he opened the ornate glass container with a pop. “It is still your leisure time, is it not?”

“Sir.”

The liquor was reserved for his high profile meetings and, though you sat in on every one, he had never shared a drink with you. Under different circumstances, you might have enjoyed the special privilege but all you wanted to do now was escape. You weren’t going to make it. You weren’t going to make it if you didn’t get a lid on this immediately.

You were so occupied by your own thoughts you didn’t realize he was so close now. Your panic transmuted into something else entirely. Slim-shouldered yet still so imposing. Alabaster skin. High, aristocratic cheekbones. Sharp eyes watching you expectantly as he held out a glass. You wanted to reach out and touch that red hair of his which he took so much apparent pride in for how meticulously it was arranged.

You bit the inside of your cheek, chastising yourself for letting your sobriety slip.

“Thank you,” you murmured, taking the drink from his hand.

“Of course. Now, the unveiling of our latest generation of Special Forces TIE fighters is imminent,” General Hux said, rounding his desk and lowering himself in his seat.

“Tomorrow. Eighteen-hundred hours,” you said, amazed you could recall that detail in your current state.

“Very good. We shall toast to that.”

You lifted your glass as he did. Sweat prickled on your temple and cooled on the back of your neck.

“To superior fire power,” you said, tipping your glass at him. If there was anything you could stumble your way through while under the influence it was the arch charisma expected of you by your upbringing.

Hux smirked, gave a short hum of approval, and quietly agreed. “Hear, hear.”

Euphoria at having pleased him flooded your system. Your body heat started to feel oppressive. You barely remembered to actually sip your drink.

“I was overlooking the changes you made to my speech,” he said, licking cognac from his lips, languidly sitting back and folding his hands over his middle. “They were much needed. Some of it was shocking, frankly. For example, the part about the- let’s see where is it?” He flicked around files on his holo until he came to it. You loved the way his mouth moved when he talked. The forward way he set his jaw, making his teeth meet with such delicacy, enunciating every word.

“Here we are,‘They will cower at our supremacy to no avail and be crushed-’”

“‘-beneath our blooded boots for the glory of the First Order’, yes,” you said, idly reaching up to play with that suffocating top button of your black uniform. You drank more cognac to quench a thirst which begged for something cooler and milder. You felt like panting but wouldn’t dare.

“That part was especially- oh what is the word? It was-”

“So hot,” you gasped, having completely forgotten what he was on about. “Sorry, I’m just gonna…”

With one hand you popped the top button of your shirt and sighed in relief at being free from the rigid collar. He raised an eyebrow and his eyes flicked down to the newly revealed skin. The general was laughing at you now without making a sound.

“I was going to say excessive. In any case, I’ll have to have a talk with my speechwriter.”

“May I be dismissed?” You had practically interrupted him as you dabbed at the sweat on your brow and rued the plaintive notes in your tone. Unconsciously, you started flexing the muscles in your thighs and buttocks. At first, because you were rigid from stress and then for the fantastic sensation that traveled from the tops of your knees, up and up like a coin turned on its side, rolling until it tipped over and wheeled around in a spot that made your lashes flutter.

The anxiety, the euphoria, the arousal. It was all coming to a head. You pressed your lips together as you stifled a whine. It was quite clear exactly what the intended effects of this drug were.

“What seems to be the matter?” he asked casually, taking lingering notice of your wriggling.

“It’s not- I’m not- I just don’t feel well, suddenly.”

You knew what this looked like. You could see the scandal of it reflected in those implacable, shining eyes of his. You realized how deep you were breathing. How lazily your eyelids hovered. This is what he wanted all along. You could almost laugh with him at the absurdity of it.

Hux artfully drained the remainder of his drink, setting the glass down without a clatter.

“Did you lie to me, Captain?”

There was a long pause between you as he awaited your answer.

“I’ll have that water now.” You rose from your chair, afraid to encourage some new, staggering sensation. Your toe caught on your heel as you stumbled to the decanter tray. Humiliating. Best case scenario, you were fired. What would your family say? Your grasp felt too unreliable to coordinate grabbing a glass and filling it.

“There, there. Let me.” General Hux’s fingers brushed against yours as he took the glass. When had he left his seat? He was behind you at first but he soon sidled up so close beside you. You could smell his aftershave. His presence triggered a primitive part of you. Fear and attraction. He poured your water for you and presented it. You took it greedily, bringing the cup to your lips as fast as you could and gulping it down as he watched on with aloof interest.

You took a break to breathe and he captured your chin in his cool hand.

“You disrespect me by flouting the rules.” His grip tightened on your cheek, squishing the corners of your mouth. “Tell me, my dear, have I ever been one to suffer disrespect?”

“No, sir,” you replied, very nearly moaning it for how he had called you my dear.

You couldn’t fight Hux even if you wanted to. You were too busy thinking about how nice it would be to lean into his palm.

“You leave me no choice but to carry out disciplinary action myself. I cannot show any favoritism. As such, your punishment will be severe.” He made no effort to hide how much he was going to savor it.

“I understand you perfectly, sir,” you said, reaching out with a hand you no longer had control of to clutch his wrist.

“Good,” he said through his teeth, fixating on your moist lips as he dragged the soft pad of his thumb across the bottom one. There was the far away consolation that he was as entranced by yours as you were by his.

Like some creature hungry for stimuli you let your tongue wander out to taste. He let his mouth drop open slightly as you closed yours around his thumb and started sucking. Slowly. Deliberately, taking your time to explore the fine ridges of his finger. You closed your eyes and felt as he brought his free hand to the back of your neck. Your high temperature was insistent that you release a couple more of those shirt buttons.

Hux pulled his thumb out of your mouth and your eyes fluttered open. He was looking down at you, almost deranged, as he dragged your saliva across his own mouth. Then he crashed down on you, kissing you like he wanted to hurt you. He didn’t wait for your assent to use his tongue. You opened to him, still sweet with spice. He could taste it too. He must. Good. You wanted to spread the exquisite poison that he had given you.

You were unleashed, desperately clawing at his shoulders and messing up his hair. He chuckled meanly against your lips. He was laughing at you again. At your behavior. At how desperate you were to press your whole body up against him - to find some purchase for pleasure. Your pride bristled but not for long. Taking down your neatly-bunned hair and dropping to your knees before him, you resolved to level the playing field.

You ran your hot hands over his erection which strained against his charcoal jodhpurs. He couldn’t hide this. How hard it made him watching you lose control. Eager to lay eyes on him, you deftly unzipped and lowered his trousers. You gasped as his cock swung free, uncut and beautifully pale. His fastidious cleanliness was evident even in his pants. And to your endless delight, although you could have guessed it, the neatly trimmed hairs that wreathed him were just as orange as those upon his head. Grasping his thighs, you watched him watch you as you snaked your tongue out to catch the glistening precum.

General Hux hissed. You smiled at the sound of the glass clinking on the decanter tray as he placed a sudden, steadying hand upon it. A stark flush painted his skin. You could see his chagrin at your obvious grab for an advantage. He schooled his expression to a more indifferent one and took himself in hand.

“That state of you,” he breathed, stroking your hair as he bounced the pink tip of his cock on your parted lips thrice, “you ought to be ashamed.”

He arranged your hair neatly over your shoulder and you closed your mouth around him in reply. Deeper and deeper you took him, swirling and flicking your tongue and letting your hand cover what you could not. You could feel his thighs flexing beneath your touch. The more of him you took in the more it was evident that your gag reflex was out to lunch. Yet another novel effect of the spice. Curious, you swallowed his spit-gleaming cock until your nose was buried in coarse, soap-scented curls and lingered long enough to spare him a glance.

Maybe you weren’t so indifferent to power, after all. You had never felt so drunk on it before, seeing your general’s open-mouthed gasp and furrowed brow as he watched you deep-throat him.

The state of you, you thought to yourself.

But you didn’t have long to luxuriate in your victory, as Hux was clearly ready to dispense with the games. He began to fuck your mouth with long, merciless strokes, yanking your hair into a ponytail. Your throat was pleasantly numb but a part of you wished you could experience the struggle of being invaded this way sober. Still, the way drool dripped and strung down off of your chin made you feel used in such a wonderful way.

“Up,” he commanded, dragging his length out of your mouth. He pulled you to him as you rose, wheeling the decanter tray out of the way and pressing your ass roughly against the edge of his desk. He smoothed his hands up and down the backs of your stocking-clad thighs and he lifted you with little effort to sit on it. Your pencil skirt strained and slid up as he nestled himself between your legs. He kissed your sodden mouth and idly stroked himself.

“You nearly had me fooled,” he murmured against your neck in between kisses and bruising nips. “So orderly. Only ever on task.”

Your jacket was pulled down around your arms. The remainder of your buttons were done away with and his hand found your breast. He pulled down your plain bra, palming, squeezing, plucking at your nipple, switching to the other to encourage your little whimpers and arching back.

“And so accommodating. So eager to please me. Or did you think I hadn’t noticed?”

You wrapped your hand around the back his neck as he continued to lick and suck your bare shoulder. You could feel the sweat on the back of his neck as your wrapped your arms around him and you knew Hux was as far gone as you were. He leaned over you, into you, hand steadying your lower back. A jolt of pleasure rocked you as his other crept up your inner thigh to cup your sex and press while you moved against him for more sensation. A long, low moan vibrated in your chest. He softly shushed you as your hips bucked from the maddening pressure.

“How prettily you blush at any minute word of praise-” the general said in your ear, like it was an admonishment.

Riiip. He laid waste to the crotch of your stockings, tearing the thin barrier with ease.

“-looking just the way you do now-”

You cried out and pulled his hair at his faintest tracing of your slit over your black panties, your thoughts swimming as he pulled them aside.

“-only for me.” General Hux sighed, very amused at how soaked you were, how you mewled at his every touch. With teasing circles, he manipulated you until it was too much and you wriggled away from him. Then, holding your hips in place, he slipped his fingers easily inside of you. Precise and curling. Pushing in and out until your thighs and ass quaked for how long you had been tensing them from his relentless attention.

“Fuck. Oh, fuck,” you whined, screwing your eyes shut and squeezing his shoulders.

“Don’t you dare,” he growled, softening his touch. The knot in the pit of your stomach tightened more and more with no relief.

You hissed. “Bastard!”

“Shut up,” he snapped, laying a hand between your breasts, shoving you down to lie so he could survey what he had done to you. Your jacket was pulled down, your shirt open, bra only half on. Your stockings were ripped and your skirt had been pushed up to your belly. Your hair stuck to your forehead and cheeks and your chest heaved up and down like you had just outrun a charging bantha. The general looked more or less himself save for the sheen of sweat on his brow and a few fallen strands of red hair which he raked back too soon for you to be able to savor the rumpled look on him.

With one hand, he lifted your leg behind the knee. Then you felt you underwear pulled aside and his length pushing insistently and the entrance of your swollen cunt.

“Now, I’m going to give you what you deserve. Would you like that, Captain?”

“Yesss,” you said, impatiently. Your fingernails dug into the edges of his desk as you lay across it long-ways.

“I beg your pardon?” he said, genuinely annoyed, rubbing your clit up and down none-too-gently with his cock.

“Yes, sir,” you wail. For fuck’s sake.

“Good girl.”

And with one brutal thrust you were consumed. A moan ripped out of your throat and you threw your head back. By the sweet satisfaction of being filled to the hilt by your arrogant general and the spice coursing through your veins with every beat of your heart you came, thunderously, blindingly. Your eyes rolled back into your head and you soundlessly mouthed words of ecstasy.

Then the lights went out.

When you came to, he was lazily fucking you. Watching you with a casual gaze. Only seconds had passed while you were unconscious but you still felt like a time traveler as you recovered. That was definitely score one against you in the game of who will be most undone by the end.

Not that you were mad about it.

“There she comes,” he hummed, picking up your other leg. You crossed your ankles behind him and he took it as a sign that you were ready to continue. He wasted no time setting a savage pace, thrusting hard into you, his desk making scraping sounds in time with his movement. Perhaps it was the drugs talking but you decided in that moment that his cock was perfect. It was all you ever needed. Just his cock and his mouth and his fingers forever.

The rest of the spice capsules rattled to the floor.

A vein started to bulge in his forehead and his face reddened. Hux’s hand slapped the desk next to your head and he was looming over you. The mask of control fell away again and he started to pant. You pawed at his back, his shoulders, uselessly trying to dig your nails into the fabric of his shirt as you sobbed with every fulfillment.

“Shit,” he muttered, putting his free hand to good use, his fingers drawing hurried circles on your clit. Another orgasm reluctantly mounted, but you could tell by how frantically he fucked you now that he wasn’t going to last much longer.

“Now, damn you,” he snarled, giving you a direct order. The general’s thrusts were becoming irregular. You were so close.

His head fell forward, buried in between your neck and shoulder. His cock twitched inside you and as he came he cried out and let slip your name.

Your given name.

And then, because you were - as he said - so eager to please him, you obeyed. This time, you remembered to breathe so you wouldn’t pass out as you came once more because, honestly, he had a big enough ego as it was. Fucking you unconscious twice just wasn't a victory you were willing to give him.

By the time you came to your senses, he was still laying on top of you, his own breathing steadily slowing to normal. You toyed with the idea of smoothing down his hair or tickling the back of his neck as a gesture of calming affection but he was far too unpredictable for you to try - an element of his mystique which you begrudgingly adored.

After a moment’s more rest, he reached a sluggish hand into his pocket and procured a handkerchief. With great effort, he lifted himself off of you and cleaned up, tucking himself back into his pants. After that, he folded the expensive material and, with surprising tenderness, did the same for you.

Then, stepping around his desk he dropped himself back into his chair, huffing with exhaustion. The handkerchief was cast aside into one of his drawers to be dealt with later. You scooted your butt to the edge of the desk and gently lowered yourself onto your feet. It was only now, you noticed that your throat and everything from the waist down killed. A nice keepsake, you thought, for as long as it would last.

“Now,” he said, smoothing his hair down for a second and final time, “you are dismissed.”

You nodded intending leave but not before sparing a curious glance toward the little white capsules on the floor.

“I’ll be keeping those. Rules are rules.”

You bit your lip and cocked your head.

“But, General,” you said, “my deficiency.”

He leaned back and gave you an unreadable expression.

“Worry not, Captain.” His eyes glittered. “I’ll see to it your needs are met.”

And then you departed to ride out the rest of your trip in the comfort of your quarters, repeatedly satiated by the hardly believable memory of what had just occurred and the long daydream of what was still to come.

[meny-sempai]

Arthur hates Ash… Or does he?

I never write character analysis, but I just love Banana Fish, I loved it for years and after seeing some posts I started thinking a lot about Arthur and Ash and I decided to share some of my thoughts.

Does Arthur hate Ash? Yes, but let me elaborate. I’ll be mostly using manga material for it (maybe small spoilers ahead).

Am I trying to justify Arthur’s actions and make him a likable person? No. If I met someone like him in real life I’d run, but Arthur as a fictional character is very interesting to me and I do like him for what he does and represents in the story. It’s like with Papa Dino. I DESPISE HIM. But I LIKE to despise him.

Final disclaimer: Do I ship Arthur and Ash? HELL NO

Now that we got that out of the way let me elaborate:

1.       Arthur sees through the act

Once upon a time Arthur Frederick was a gang leader which means at one point he was strong and respected enough to lead a group of street kids and that isn’t easy. Papa Dino was a mafia boss for a long time and when Ash took over Arthur’s gang the gang was in Papa’s territory and under Papa’s paw. We can assume the gang was under Papa even in Arthur’s time which means Arthur was under his influence for a long time too. Directly or not Arthur and his boys had to deal with Dino and that’s not pretty at all.

Under Ash boys didn’t do Dino’s dirty work, they didn’t kill. They refused Dino just like Ash did. Ash was someone strong enough to rebel and do things his way. He was not afraid of Dino and the mob (this isn’t really true, but that’s how he appears and wants to be). It’s easy to see why the street kids liked Ash. It’s also mentioned that Ash didn’t care about race and welcomed anyone in his gang. While that could be something completely new that only he did, we can also assume that there were kids of all race in Arthur’s gang too. Ash took over Arthur’s gang so it’s fair to assume that some of the non-white kids were in there too (we do see in the manga that some of his followers later on are of colour). So in that sense Arthur was pretty open-minded too.

But, unlike Ash, Arthur did not rebel against Dino. Now, we don’t know Arthur’s background, we don’t know how old he was when he first became the leader, we don’t know how the gang worked under him, but we do know that Arthur primarily cares about himself. It would be easy to say that he didn’t have a choice and had to listen to Dino’s requests even if it meant putting his boys in danger. It is the truth in the end (obviously, you shouldn’t mess with Dino).

Not even Ash has full control over his boys. He wants to rebel (he needs to) but he knows that in reality he can’t do anything. Instead of dealing with Dino he can only punish and banish his boys who in reality HAD to do what Dino asked of them. So thinking that Arthur could go against Dino and just didn’t because he’s an asshole is not true.

For Arthur though, letting Dino do what he wants was also a guarantee that nothing too bad will happen to him personally. Hell, Dino didn’t even know the boy by his name right away. Arthur was either living so under the radar, mutely following every order, or Dino just didn’t give a damn about someone he planned to replace with Ash from the beginning. I believe it’s both. Only later when Dino realized he could use Arthur did he pay attention to him.

We don’t know how the gang was when Arthur was the leader, we can only assume the kids were nothing but Dino’s dogs. That’s why I believe Ash said the following:

Ash knows Arthur is not particularly happy following him. He thinks Arthur is Dino’s dog who would/did rat the gang to Dino. Here, he also thinks Arthur may had something to do with the two boys he had to punish, but for me that’s not the main reason why he said this. He knows Arthur wants to lead again and he doesn’t really care if he does but he states loud and clear that whoever leaves will not have Ash’s protection from Dino. Ash is way better with dealing with Dino and he actually cares for his boys, but he is not equal with Dino as he appears to be. I believe Arthur knows this, he knows about the act, and that’s one of the reasons why he doesn’t like Ash.

Ash acts as if he’s better than Arthur which is true, but from Arthur’s perspective it’s unacceptable. It’s a lie. Especially if you take into the account that the only reason why Ash can deal better with Dino is because Dino has a soft spot for him.

2.       Nobody likes to be compared

Ash deserved the “soft spot” because he endured his whole life and fought for the better future. He stayed strong and didn’t break. He’s an admirable person. But what about first impressions and circumstances?

Almost everybody in this manga thinks of Ash as a beautiful, weak, harmless little animal when they first see him. That’s also how Ash usually wants it. And if they know about his past they either think of him as a free-for-all-whore or a broken child. And when Ash came to take charge I’m certain everyone knew he was a Dino’s pet. The gang most certainly didn’t like Dino. I bet most of the gang first thought something like this: So you think you're someone just because Papa said so? Just because you were someone's bitch? Why would we ever follow you? Why would we ever want you in the gang at all?

But then Ash proved himself. I do believe it took some time, but I bet that Arthur realised real fast Ash was someone better than anyone had thought. Better than he himself had thought. He started to compare. The gang started to compare too. Little by little the kids got to know Ash and it was clear that he was a better person than Arthur. Arthur figured it out too.

Ash cared about the kids which earned him respect, something Arthur never had. Arthur never managed to protect his boys from Dino so his boys didn’t trust him and in turn didn’t respect him. It’s said they feared him, which is possible since they knew Arthur cared more about himself and wouldn’t mind sacrificing others (this is a perfectly normal mentality of a street kid, survival of the fittest and all that jazz, but it’s a lousy character trait).

Arthur was compared and he knew he lost because he KNEW Ash was better in everything. And when you and everyone (even the other gang leaders) knows you’ll never be good enough you feel useless and pathetic. I truly believe Arthur was also amazed by Ash like all the other kids, maybe even sooner than the others, but because of all of this, that feeling was quickly replaced by others.

We don’t know if it happened but we can guess that in the end Arthur and Ash had a duel and Ash won (could be the reason behind Arthur’s ruined hand). Ash took over the turf. Arthur as everyone doesn’t like defeat. Especially if its cause is his own incompetence.

In the end Arthur still has some of the boys under control. They follow him either because they fear him or there could be some who genuinely like him. Arthur had to have done something right, he had to have been better than anyone at one point but now suddenly he isn’t anymore. A younger kid, an ex whore outdid him. It would hurt anyone’s pride and Arthur has too much of it. Having a lot of pride could be understandable. We have no idea what he had to go through on the street just to survive. Being a leader must have been somewhat of a prize to him. A proof he was SOMEONE. A proof that he rose from the gutter and succeeded in the world. And know he was back to being a no one and he’s smart enough to know he will never be what he wants while Ash is here. He tried beating him fair – it didn’t work. His only option is doing it dirty and he’s desperate enough to think that’s a good idea.

But is it all pride? It’s understandable for any street kid to want to be more than trash. Any kid would want to be respected and acknowledged. But Arthur never truly had that despite trying so hard to be on top and with Ash here he won’t be even able to pretend to be acknowledged. He has to come to terms that a boy toy has more chance of success than him.

In desperation he’s ready to turn to Dino knowing exactly what an asshole the man is. Knowing well the man will never see him as Ash’s equal let alone as someone better. But he tries everything to be seen and soon he’ll try to take Ash’s place (he even starts wearing suits and going to the parties etc).

3.       Same as Ash but not really – when admiration turns toxic

Ash is perfect in Dino’s eyes. Arthur wants to be perfect, wants to be more than just a street bum, wants to be acknowledged for what he can do. When you want to take someone’s place you have to at least admire him in some capacity because you see something worthy in him that you want to take/have. When you admire someone you can easily make him your ideal goal. Arthur wants to BE Ash. Because of the circumstances and his personality it turns into envy. Subconsciously Arthur is JEALOUS of Ash.

We don't know much about Arthur growing up on the streets but we can assume he was never used as a sex toy. He was never humiliated in that way, he was never a bitch so he thinks he's a better/a more worthy person than Ash can ever be (if anything he thinks this way as a defence mechanism, I don't believe he had a nice and easy life, I don’t believe he had anyone who honestly cared about him and saw potential in him and there WAS potential). Yet despite not technically (as far as we know) being one EVERYONE thinks of HIM as a bitch. It’s insulting, it makes him angry and honestly, I can understand why.

He was never as smart as Ash, never as skilful, never as charismatic, never as pretty. He's smart but not enough, he only has some street smarts and nothing else (in his eyes he was never groomed like Ash, he had to learn all by himself which should be a virtue but it turns out to be a flaw). He was good with a gun and then he wasn't BECAUSE of Ash. He's good with the knife, but not confident enough to try to win with just his skill. He's not charismatic because he thinks more about himself than about the others (he probably thinks that’s why he’s still alive, he thinks that there’s nothing wrong with it).

He's blonde, has blue eyes, he's white, yet he is not as beautiful as Ash. In a twisted way, he could be jealous of all the attention Ash is getting. And also, no one calls him by his name, but they all call Ash by his (at least the name Ash uses more).

He's always comparing himself to Ash in his mind. He's never good enough and no one ever thought he could be. The rivalry between him and Ash is just a product of Arthur’s jealousy and anger because Ash took his opportunity to BE someone. All these feelings culminate in want for revenge (for his fingers, for Ash making a fool out of him and for everyone who ever doubted him). He doesn’t want to just kill Ash – he wants to torture him, humiliate him.

Why? Because he wants to show everyone what he saw from the beginning – that Ash is under full control of Dino, that he is a whore (It’s true, in the manga it’s clearly stated that Ash resists Dino so much because he knows Dino is the only man who can control him).

Why make Ash kill Shorter? To prove he had no control over anything and that people die when he pretends to be something he isn’t. That he is ready to kill/sacrifice his friends just like Arthur did. That Ash is a dog too. Why make Eiji Dino’s pet? To remind Ash of his past and how much it ruined him. How much he IS ruined. How little his value is.

Hearing Ash begging him to make it all stop must have done wonders for Arthur’s pride.

Finally. He is better than Ash. In something. He’s useful, supported and acknowledged.

But in the end, he is constantly doubted whether he can take down Ash or not. And through the course of the story he will constantly be reminded that despite all of his efforts Ash is always one step ahead. No matter what he does Ash always wins.

Not facing Ash alone again (if there was a first time at all) is his way of sustaining an image that even if Ash always wins it’s not because of Arthur but because of other people and things involved. He doesn’t want to face Ash alone because then he faces himself and his defeat. When he ultimately loses he’ll have to admit that he’s a failure.

4.       Was there more?

As I said, I believe Arthur was among the first who actually liked Ash. But was there more to it? If you look really hard and overthink it there could be some hints of sexual tension between the two in the manga. Could Arthur had one-sidedly liked Ash?

Is someone projecting? Probably not, but let’s say it’s plausible.

We know a drunk person tried to TAKE Ash's gun and Ash sliced his hand. We know Arthur suffered such an injury from Ash. Could it be that Arthur tried to take Ash’s gun too? The injury happened a year ago and we don’t really know why.

We know Eiji ASKED for the gun and Ash gave it to him. And we know he doesn't do that. Probably because no one ever ASKED for it with no hidden agenda (I'm totally using the gun as sex/love metaphor). With no expectations, with no judgement, Eiji asked innocently. Ash gave him the gun, the barrel pointing at Ash and Eiji still did nothing suspicious. Then he returned the gun by his own accord saying thanks. He was thanking Ash for trusting him.

Now, like so many others, Arthur could be really attracted to Ash. He is beautiful, strong and a great leader, a great man who tries to defy Papa. But that attraction turned twisted because of the both boys’ upbringing. Arthur, like everybody else in his environment, tried to TAKE. And Ash didn’t react well to it.

Arthur could have even thought: Ash gave himself to everybody but he refused me? Why? Am I worse than Papa and the other bastards? I'm not WORTHY of Ash?

And Ash thinks like this in the manga: They look at me and like me and when I refuse them they get angry because I somehow ruined their fantasy. They don't care what I think.

It’s very difficult for Ash to be open to a relationship. You have to be Eiji to be with him and Arthur is nowhere near even if his feelings were once healthy. Ash doesn’t like being touched, he doesn’t like to be approached from behind. He doesn’t even like being woken up by his trusted gang members. That could be all for laughs, but I’m not so sure. There’s a reason why Eiji still has his teeth and the other boy doesn’t. We’ve seen him plenty of times being over aggressive when triggered. Knocking someone’s teeth out and cutting someone’s fingers out of fear seems plausible. You can’t TAKE from him. Especially when the thing you want to take is needed for him to feel safe. Gun equals protection.

If Arthur was smarter and thought of others more he would have known that he should have talked and asked first. But he was not raised that way. There is no proper adult around to teach normal interaction and because they are in this environment, Arthur knew only how to make it into a twisted rivalry and even thought of it as fine.

If Ash was not traumatized he wouldn't have lashed out. And Ash, because he's Ash, probably is aware of this and perhaps regrets what he did to Arthur to some extent. It always felt to me he knew there was no other way to end the feud with Arthur than to kill him, but that he didn’t necessarily wanted to do it.

As for the hints of sexual tension, there are some suggestive panels in the manga. The way Arthur plays with his knife while Ash is trapped in chains etc.

And then there’s a page where Ash calls him by his name.

Maybe Ash didn’t want to really kill him but until that moment (and not even then perhaps because of everything that happened) Ash probably didn't even acknowledge him as an equal/as a person/as a someone. And if someone you like doesn't even bother to call you by your name you will be hurt. It will add to the hate. 

And unfortunately Ash has plenty of good reasons to not think of him as a human being.

And that’s all I have to say about their relationship. It’s an interesting one for sure, but a very unhealthy one be it “romantic” or not (it’s not, but still). Feel free to share your thoughts with me.

[bittysvalentines]

The Butter Bandit

To: @peeps-the-writer

From: @airplanesandcookies  

Happy Valentine’s Day!  I hope you enjoy this little zimbits meet-cute fic!  I really had a blast writing it for you.  

_/\_

Any other time, Jack would appreciate the privacy and serenity that came from a thick falling curtain of rain. But at this moment, he’s exhausted and merely resigned to getting soaked on the run from his car to the grocery store entrance.

He took a moment to savor the warmth of his car’s heated seats as the rain, muted, battered at the roof. The day had been brutally long - a PT session at 9am, then practice, team lunch, a few brief moments at home to nap, before heading back to the rink for a tough home game against the Schooners. Even after all that, he still had to field invasive interviews post game, cycling to get the acid out his muscles and cool down, another massage, only to get home and realize that he had no eggs or even milk for a bowl or three of cereal. He could have ordered a grocery or dinner delivery, but that would have taken so much longer than him just doing it himself.

Jack rolled his neck, pulled his snapback down over his brow, unlocked his door and promised himself that a plate of scrambled eggs was worth all of this when his passenger door swung open and a very wet man hopped into the passenger seat.

“Shitty, you are a lifesaver! I would never have made it all the way home in this. I can’t swim that far!”

The thing about being a professional hockey player, it is Jack’s job to recover faster than the other guy, which is what probably saves Jack from an early heart attack and gives him space to recognize that the drenched intruder is 1) unfairly attractive even with his blond hair plastered over his face and a thin linen button down shirt translucent over his skin and 2) most likely harmless given that he’s clearly not hiding anything.

Jack even had a slow-motion moment to wonder, if this guy, as completely random and utterly unlikely as it was, was a puck bunny with a proposition.

His teammates all had wild stories of puck bunnies trying to sneak into their hotel rooms or private cars. But he hadn’t heard of an unreasonably hot guy in a see-through shirt just hopping into a parked car.

“I’m a shitty lifesaver?” Jack asked, still computing the scenarios in which he would say ‘yes’.

The wet stranger snapped his gaze up from a pile of cloth grocery bags at his feet, blinking owlishly large brown eyes at Jack.

With nothing better to say, Jack chose, “It is a rough night for a swim.”

His stranger exploded out of his seat with a flood of apologies, “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, sir! I thought that you were my friend Shitty and I just jumped into your car, I swear to god I’m not a creep, this was just a mistake.” And he was off, just as quick as he came, back into the pouring rain.

The heavy fall of rain immediately obscured his path. Curious, Jack jumped out of his car and looked around, but he couldn’t see any sign of the guy. Merely ready to shrug it off as one of the weirdest encounters this year at least, Jack turned to lock the door when he noticed that the guy had accidentally left one of his cloth grocery bags.

With equal measures of curiosity and paranoia (because Jack didn’t think that he would be blindsided by a pretty face, but it HAD been a really long day), Jack reached over to the passenger side seat, the rain sluicing down his back, and picked up the bag and found what had to be ten pounds of butter.

Jack completed his shopping, returned home, and finally (FINALLY) made the best damn plate of eggs he’s ever made all while completely encompassed in a cloud of questions.

_/\_ “So, a fan hopped into your car and gave you butter?” Marty asked, frowning down at a very simple butter cookie that Jack brought in to practice. . “No. Some guy hopped in my car. I think he thought I was someone else. The butter was an accident.”

“As far as pick-up lines go…” Thirdy began, in-between bites of his cookie.

Jack shook his head, “I don’t think he was a fan. I think he was just some guy taking advantage of the buy-one-get-one free sale at the grocery store.”

“But what I don’t understand,” Tater said, mouth full, “is why did you keep the butter?”

Fair question. Jack walked his teammates through the boring rationale that the store wouldn’t take the butter back without a receipt and they wouldn’t store it in case somebody came back for it. And being practical, Jack wasn’t going to just throw the butter away, so he left a note with the manager, ‘I took your butter. If you want it back or a refund, leave your number with the store. I’ll check back in a week.”

Thirdy laughed so suddenly, he snorted his water. “Man, that note sounds ominous as hell.” He mumbled over the lip of his cup, “If you want the butter back, meet me in a dark alley around midnight.”

Tater licked his fingers, “So, you are a butter bandit. You dress like one.” “No.” Jack stated as he packed up the rest of his cookies. He did not look down at his yellow shoes. This wasn’t complicated. “I’m trying to compensate him for the butter. It was a simple mistake, the guy shouldn’t lose out because of it.”

And if he got to see the guy again, that wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. But he wasn’t going to say that part out loud to these guys.

But Tater had already zeroed in on the chink in Jack’s armor. “For shame, Jack. Holding butter hostage so that you can see that poor man again. He may have been baking for his grandmother or a classroom of children. You think of that? No, because you are a Butter Bandit. You steal his dreams.”

Jack threw up his hands while his teammates laughed at him. “I’m never going to hear the end of this, am I?”

A chorus of “NO” followed him out the door.

And true to their word, they didn’t let up during practice, the team lunch, and the chirping even showed up in a ‘Meet the Falconers’ segment that PR kept insisting that Jack participate in.

Tater held up his camera with his long arm and aimed it at Jack who was cutting his stick. “Jack needs a nickname, something that will stick. Maybe…”

He trailed off, and Thirdy picked it back up again, face completely innocent as he continued to tape his stick. “He’s so slick on the ice. Smooth even. Smooth like butter.”

Marty poked his head into the camera’s frame. “It’s true, and the way that he steals the puck on the ice, he’s like a bandit, he’s so fast.

The video cut off to the sounds of three grown men cracking up while Jack looked at the camera stone-faced and finished checking his equipment.

_/\_ Evenings off were so rare, that Jack appropriately hoarded and cherished them with a mild glee. After he begged off of a team dinner, he hit the grocery store to purchase a few snacks, some more eggs, and some flour for crepes. And, perhaps, maybe the butter guy had stopped in and left a message and Jack could at least satisfy his curiosity and cross off that lingering to-do item on his mental list.

With his hat pulled down low, he pushed his cart around the perimeter of the grocery store, finally ducking into the baking aisle to replenish his stash of flour, when he saw a shock of familiar blond hair crouched down looking at the two different brands of finishing sugar. He was squatting down flat on his flip-flop covered feet in a pair of joggers and a grey tank top with Samwell writes in red across his shoulders. He hadn’t looked up yet, and so Jack took a moment to confirm his initial assessment of the guy. He WAS unfairly attractive and Jack was staring. When the butter guy stood up, Jack shook himself from his stupor and in a fit of action he couldn’t even begin to explain to himself, fled the aisle. Without his cart.

Jack rubbed his hands over his face and gave himself a stern talking to. The bottles of artificial pancake syrup even appeared to be judging him. When he finally had enough of being a coward, he walked back into the baking aisle with renewed determination to wrap up this entire awkward exchange.

But of course, the butter guy and his cart were gone.

Jack shuffled over to his shopping cart and grabbed a sack of flour before realizing that he had the wrong cart. It looked similar, yogurt, a package from the butcher’s counter, whole milk, and eggs, but he hadn’t picked up blueberries, pickles or any wine. Momentarily confused, Jack startled when he heard a very quiet clearing of a throat behind him.

“Um, excuse me. But I think I stole your cart?”

Jack turned around and locked eyes with the brown eyes he had last seen in his car a week prior.

“I think I have your nine pounds of your butter.”

He was delighted in seeing the pink rush into the guy’s face from his neck and ears before he responded. “Hey, wait, I thought I had 10 pounds.”

“I used a pound - finders fee.” Jack said easily despite his sweaty palms.

They stood frozen, looking at each other, before Jack held out his hand, “I’m Jack. I apparently have a car similar to one of your friends?”

His hand was met with a warm firm handshake and a self-deprecating smile. “I’m Eric, and I need to look before I just hop into a stranger’s vehicle.”

“Probably for the best, eh? Not everyone is as nice as I am.”

Jack earned a full smile in return and it felt like a goal.

“Umm, I can return your butter. And your shopping sack - I mean, I don’t have it all right now. It’s in my refrigerator at home.”

Eric nodded. “Well, let me make it up to you. Can I buy you a burger as a thank you? You could have just tossed it or donated it. It was kind of you to try and get it back to me. Most people don’t usually need that much butter.”

The question must have flitted across his face because Eric merely laughed. “I work over at the University in the anthropology department, and I bake cupcakes, cookies, and pies on the side. I had a party order for that Sunday.”

“And I stole your butter?”

Eric waved his hand, “No! I broke into your car, dropped my butter and then it served me right that I had to go across town to buy 10 more pounds.”

Feeling bolder than he had all week, Jack removed his hat and pushed his hair back. “You know, if you don’t mind, I had all this extra butter I didn’t know what to do with, so I tried to make some cookies but they were kinda dry. It sounds like you might be able to help me perfect my recipe, yeah?”

Jack watched as Eric preened for a second, his eyes darting up at Jack’s face, trying to read something that Jack really hoped was he clearly projecting back at him. Eric, straightening his shirt, “I think I can do that.”

Jack beamed, “Okay, let’s wrap up here and grab that burger? Do you need a ride?”

Eric, ears still pink, “Yeah, I typically walk to the store. I don’t have a car right now.”

“That’s fine. Plus you are already familiar with mine.”

Eric groaned. “I walked right into that, didn’t I?”

“Just like you did to my car last week.” Jack chirped with a huge smile as Eric slapped his arm playfully.

“Ugh, you think you are so funny don’t you.”

And Jack didn’t know about that, but he did think he was pretty lucky.