#and we took them to eat at the place they’ve always gone when they are here for as long as I can remember

[cannot-copia]

this year so far

[akookminsupporter]

ARE YOU SURE?!: SEVENTH EPISODE

MY IMPRESSIONS

Preface: This is not an analysis post, and honestly, I don’t want to overanalyse their interactions or everything they said and did—many others are already doing that. My intention with this post is simply to share my thoughts on the episodes, my impressions, and perhaps my conclusions.

I’m writing this as I watch the episodes for the second time.

Ah, I don’t want this to end! It feels like these 6 weeks flew by. 

Jungkook feeling hot in a cold place is so me. 

Jimin looks great with his natural hair colour. I like Jimin’s grey hair, but his natural colour will always be superior, especially with the length he had in this episode. 

Jimin and Jungkook trying to remember if Jimin had ever gone snowboarding with Jungkook before is funny because they were really trying to figure out if it was true, but at the same time, it shows just how many things they’ve done together that it’s natural for them to think snowboarding might have been one of them. 

Jungkook’s look of confusion when Jimin said he’d actually gone snowboarding with Jungkook’s friends, without Jungkook, is also funny. But also, Jimin went snowboarding with Jungkook’s friends—without Jungkook? And it's worth noting Jimin said “Jungkook’s friends”, not “our friends”. We know Jimin is close with several, if not all, of the 97-line members, but it’s nice to know they’re close enough to hang out without Jungkook. If Jimin was talking about those friends, of course.

I don’t know, but something tells me Jimin really likes ‘Standing Next to You’. Though I can’t be sure.  I also can’t be sure, but I have a hunch that Jimin really likes the song ‘Hate You’. Just a feeling. 

I don’t think there’s been an episode where I haven’t mentioned that Jungkook’s biggest ship is with food, hahaha. Why is Jimin always looking for Jungkook in supermarkets? Hahahaha. 

Jungkook being a bit baffled about why Jimin was listening to one of his best songs is honestly offensive, hahaha. Jimin’s slightly defensive reply about whether there was a problem with him listening to the song, and Jungkook’s equally defensive response just wanting to know why he was listening to it, is peak Jikook comedy. 

Look, I think every Jikooker out there has said a thousand times that the world needs an official song from Jimin and Jungkook. But seriously, the world needs an official song from Jimin and Jungkook. Their voices blend so well together. Their harmonisation is glorious, and their voices are differently similar—if that makes sense. They really should record a song or even an album together. 

That hotel is incredible. Someone invited me there. I love hearing Jimin and Jungkook speak in satoori. Honestly, that hotel room is amazing. It looks like an apartment. I can’t even imagine how much a night there costs. It’s moments like these that remind me that these guys are millionaires and their agency has loads of money too, haha. 

Of course, Jungkook cut his own hair. Of course, he did. That’s so Jungkook. Jin would be proud too, hahaha. The staff taking photos of Jungkook because he looked cute with his new haircut is just too cute, haha. In the photo the staffer took, Jungkook looked super young! The power of the bowl cut, hahaha. 

Okay but Jimin’s luck… something always seems to happen to him at every location on this show, hahaha. 

Was Jimin really the loser of that game considering he initially wanted to eat the gimbap? Also, when did Jungkook lose a game that he had to take a bite of the gimbap? 

ohh, didn’t Jungkook say in Connecticut that he wanted to play card games when they went to Jeju but they didn’t? Is that why he bought the stack of cards? I choose to believe that’s the reason. 

And then we get to them and their first… bath together. Jungkook started by asking if they were going to bathe there, and Jimin then said they should turn off the camera, which makes sense, but then, did they bathe together? I mean, actually, wash with soap and everything? Interesting. The camera is turned on who knows how many minutes or hours later, and you can see other products or bottles that weren’t there initially, as well as what I presume is a sweater...? After that, it’s just Jimin and Jungkook being Jimin and Jungkook. Those two are hilariously weird in the best possible way. 

Have I ever told you how much I love Jimin’s tattoos? Especially the ones on his back. 

Ah, Jungkook making sure Jimin felt the same cold breeze as him is just too cute. 

Look, I’ve seen a lot of people describe what happened in that bath—or whatever it was—as Jimin and Jungkook matching each other’s freak, but honestly, I’d describe it as men being men. It’s moments like these that remind me they’re just guys, hahaha. Only a guy would put themselves through that kind of torture for no reason. Yes, yes, I know there are supposed benefits to cold baths, but come on, they didn’t really need to do that. 

Okay, so apparently Jimin told Jungkook to hug him once so he could feel how cold it was. My question is, was that necessary? 

THE V! JIMIN’S V LINES! Oh my god. The V, the tattoos, the blonde hair. The man is the complete package. 

Seriously, guys. Men! 

Jungkook’s body is… WOW. He’s got a swimmer’s body. He’s muscular, low on fat, and still looks slim. With a very slim and enviable waist. It’s not fair. The guy has too many attributes already, hahaha. Jimin is a lighter version of Jungkook, but he also has muscles and those V lines—definitely worth mentioning. 

I don’t know if the staff could hear them, but what they “imagined” those guys were saying in the sauna seems pretty accurate, haha. 

Hey, Jimin said when they left the sauna that they should wash up before going to dinner, but didn’t they already do that when they turned off the cameras? I don’t understand.

Jimin and Jungkook suddenly trying to do the ‘Dynamite’ choreography makes total sense. It's Jikook after all.

Going to dinner in your pyjamas is the dream, hahaha. They really have the same sense of humour. They laugh at the tiniest things the other does, and you can tell they genuinely find it funny.

 Jimin and Jungkook basically travelled to three different places just to eat. There’s no better way to spend the agency’s money, hahaha. Good for them.

Something I’m still not sure about is whether Jungkook loved being in Sapporo. I don’t know, it didn’t seem like he mentioned it much in these two episodes. Let’s hope it’s clearer in the last one.

Maybe it’s just my imagination, but did Jimin drop a hint to Jungkook about giving him a massage, or did I put on my tinhat and miss it?

Jimin and Jungkook must be unbearable in private. Seriously, that’s something I’d love to see, them with their friends, without cameras. What are they like?

Okay, so Jimin first said he needed to brush his teeth, and then we see Jungkook with a toothbrush in his mouth saying ‘Come brush my teeth with me’. Did he say that to the camera, I mean, to us? But then suddenly Jimin appears. Where was he, on the floor? Jimin and I share the same level of laziness when it comes to getting something, Hahaha. Taking a photo together while brushing their teeth. Okay. They really kept memories of everything.

Washing up again?! Didn’t they already do that? Twice, apparently?! How could Jungkook forget that in a matter of hours, I’m sure?!

Aww, Jungkook saying goodnight to the cameras is just too cute. They’re such good boys. I remember in the last episode, Jimin mentioned that Jungkook has the ability to annoy people or something like that, and no one knows it better than Jimin. It’s incredible how patient he can be with Jungkook, hahaha. Of course, Jimin isn’t a saint either, because he can also annoy Jungkook at times. They really click.

Jungkook feeling hot in a cold place is so me. He’s my spirit animal, haha. And him looking for something to eat right after waking up is a MOOD.

Okay, but was Jimin fighting with some insect in the bathroom? Hahaha. Jungkook continuing to eat as if nothing’s happening is a mood.

Mmmm, did they shower together again? Interesting. Jungkook’s priority was definitely the food he bought and couldn’t eat.

Was that whole conversation about being excited correct? I mean, the translation, and if it was, why did it seem like they were talking about something else? Why do many of the things they say seem like they’re talking about something different? Why are they like this? Jimin and Jungkook bickering in the sweetest, funniest way has been one of my favourite things about the show.

Model Jimin! Jimin looked particularly stunning in the car on the way to the slopes.

There’s a popular edit of Jimin that says he doesn’t hold or grab things, he hugs them. I think the edit is mainly about Jimin hugging flower bouquets, but I think it applies to everything, including snowboards, hahaha. He’s just too cute.

I think, I think Jungkook was happy about going snowboarding, I think, I’m not entirely sure.

The juxtaposition of Jimin and Jungkook learning to snowboard and ski is just too funny.

It’s good to know Jimin doesn’t discriminate about the ground he falls on, hahaha. Jungkook really just needs a short time to learn something. Honestly, it’s unfair. Jimin is also excellent at picking things up quickly. That also seems unfair.

MY CONCLUSIONS ON THE SEVENTH EPISODE.

I loved it! Not surprisingly.

I know I’ve repeated this a lot, but I love the format of this show. It’s more relaxed. More chill with the vibe and nothing else. It’s much more domestic, more every day in a way. I know I’ve said this a lot in all my posts, but I love how relaxed Jimin and Jungkook are. I love that, even though they were technically working, they were actually relaxing. They were on a proper holiday because it felt like a normal holiday, with no pressure or expectations, just playing, enjoying cool activities, and eating. Eating a lot.

I love and especially appreciate that AYS has shown us a slightly different side of Jimin and Jungkook’s dynamic. More playful and even more every day, I think. It’s lovely to see how comfortable they are with each other, and even though they didn’t go into depth about it and probably won’t in the future, you understand why they chose to enlist together. They really get each other. They’re really similar. And that’s important.

I really love that they managed to do so many things on this show. That they had multiple holidays and, most of all, that they had them in the middle of their busy schedules. I’m glad they had those moments to laugh, enjoy, and just be happy. And I’m glad they created all those memories together.

I can’t wait for the last episode, but at the same time, I don’t want next Thursday to come because it will mean it’s all over and, like them, we’ll only have the memories we made watching them create their own memories.

As a fan, not only of Jikook but of Jimin and Jungkook, I’m infinitely grateful to them for doing this for us. I’m sure they deserve the sky and the stars; it’s the least the sun and the moon deserve, after all.

If you’ve made it this far, I’m sorry and thank you—I just couldn’t stop writing ajajajajaja.

[thisisnotkitty]

omg what would ness and mike’s first date be?!

im SO GLAD you asked

-i think that mike would want to take ness to a fancy restaurant but a) ness already works at a diner so mike’s worried that he wouldn’t want to eat out and b) do u really think mike can afford that lmao

-mike is probably freaking out about this w vanessa meanwhile vanessa’s like “im sure he’d love to go anywhere with you” and mikes like “okay but that’s not helpful WHERE should we go”

-the thing is mike wants to make sure that its a very special date. they’ve technically gone out before but usually with abby third wheeling. ness doesn’t mind and mike adores his little sister but he also kinda wants some alone time with his boyfriend okay?

-he does some research and there’s a historical museum a little ways out so on a day where vanessa can take care of abby and ness has a day off he takes them there

-ness doesn’t know where they’re going. mike insisted on planning the date by himself and just told ness it’d be a surprise

-lo and behold DINOSAUR MUSEUM

-(i tried to do research and if we’re taking the movie to be set in montana this museum is there and apparently has “one of the largest collections of dinosaur archeological remains” woahhh)

-ness is absolutely SPEECHLESS so mike thinks he doesn’t like it at first so he’s scrambling to make it better lmao

-hes all “it was a stupid idea, sorry. if u want we can just explore what they have around here im sure there’s like a coffee shop or something” and ness is like “mike for the love of god please shut up I LOVE IT”

-they go in and have a BLAST

-ness bc he definitely went through a dinosaur phase. he’s pointing at different models and telling mike all about them and what time period they were from etc etc

-mike is having a great time just listening to ness. does he know whats going on? no. could he tell u the difference between a velociraptor and an oviraptor? absolutely not. but he loves hearing ness talk so he’s more than happy to smile and listen.

-when they reach the giftshop he has to physically hold ness back from buying like 20 plushes thought lmao

-when ness is turned away sulking mike buys him one. he doesn’t know anything about dinosaurs and couldn’t tell you the names of any of them but he noticed ness getting particularly excited at this one exhibit so he took note of the frills around the dinosaurs neck and picks that one out of the plushes (its a dilophosaurus bc i personally think they’re cool)

-he also buys a coloring book for abby

-ness LOVES IT and then he shows mike that he also secretly bought something from the gift shop !

-its a keychain bc he knows mike’s kinda a sentamentalist and like to keep small memorabilia of things so he figured he’d want something to remember the date by and ness is like “do you like it?” eyes shining with anticipation

-mike, trying desperately not to cry: yeah

-suddenly ness is like OH! and scares mike out of his socks

-ness pulls out a puzzle from his bag and is like “this is for abby!” and mikes like “how am i so lucky” rahhh

-ness takes great care of his new plush and always gently places him in the middle of the bed once he makes it. (the first time mike comes over and sees it he tears up and ness teases him about it)

-mike also carries the keychain everywhere he goes (once he thought he lost it and made a mess turning the house upside down to try to find them. turns out abby had just borrowed the keys to open up something (she couldnt find the scissors) and forgot to put them back lmao)

sooo much brainrot i love them sm please keep sending prompts to feed the brainworms

[zeldaelmo]

Congratulations on your two milestones!

Have fun:

“What do you mean you ate it?”

Hey B! Thank you for your prompt! This was fun. 😆 Thank you @flutefemme for betareading!

Imagine Link speed ran both games for this. He didn't do the tears quest apart from the one Impa half-dragged him into. Crack fic, kinda, takes place after the ending.

Of Rocks

Link peeks into the cooking pot and then back at Zelda who sits on a log and scribbles furiously in a notebook. He speaks up anyway; she usually gives him her attention if he keeps talking. Old habit from when he hardly got words out.

“I'll have to admit, I was a little confused earlier, you know, back with Rauru and… his wife. What did you say was her name?” He shakes his head to himself. Sometimes he thinks his memory took more damage than they thought.

“Sonia,” Zelda breathes absently and continues taking notes.

“Yeah, Sonia. Anyway, maybe you can tell me more about this Light Dragon thing.”

That makes her look up. She rubs her ink-stained fingers at each other, frowning when he underlines his words with the sign for ‘noodle’. Another old habit.

“Did it… swallow you?" he asks. "Kinda like the Calamity?”

The fire under the cooking pot pops and Zelda sighs like she always does when he brings stray animals home or weapons that are too good to be tossed away (they are!).

“You didn’t search for the geoglyphs, did you? Just like you ignored the pictures on the slate the first time. I even made them easier to find this time, they’re glowing in the dark and all.”

He narrows his eyes on her. “Zelda. You fell into the abyss when we accidentally stumbled over the mummy of the Demon King. You were gone. Poof, swallowed by golden light. So, no, I didn’t feel like searching for anything but you.”

She stares at him for a moment, but then she puts her notebook aside, and faces him fully. “The secret stone here”—she taps the golden, tear-shaped gem on her necklace—”it amplifies the powers of the wielder. It can also be used to perform a forbidden ritual that turns the wielder into a dragon who isn’t bound to the limits of time. Performing that ritual was the only way to heal the sword for you.” Her gaze searches the small clearing where they’ve set up camp on their way to Hateno. It's not far from where they fell from the sky.

Link points his thumb in the general direction behind him where the sword leans against his pack. “I got it, no worries. Didn’t forget how mad you were the last time when I rushed to the castle with a soup ladle.” He lifts the stew-covered one currently in his hand for good measure. Then, he mulls over what she said and tries to piece it together with the strange things that happened in the sky. Or realm. Might as well have been a different realm with the clouds, the hovering, and all that. He stirs the soup, watching her through his lashes. “So, the Light Dragon, that was you?”

“Yes.”

Now that answer came quicker than he had expected. “Huh.” He scratches his head. “So, the other dragons, Naydra, Dinraal, and Farore…”

“Were once priestesses who swallowed a secret stone to guard the springs eternally, yes.”

“Wait.” He leans the ladle against the brim of the pot and frowns.

“What do you mean, you ate it?”

“Well, it’s part of the ritual.” She crosses her arm in front of her, voice growing impatient.

Yes, yes, he should have tried to find more of the geo-thingies. They would probably have explained everything, but they've been through this before; he doesn't feel like dabbling when her life is on the line. And he didn't even have amnesia this time!

“So when you eat a stone that's fine but when I do it, you get mad?”

She blinks and blinks and blinks. He clicks his tongue. Seems like she has been mad at him so often that she can’t even remember it.

“Goronia,” he jogs her memory.

“Oh!” she calls and leaps up, the notebook toppling into the grass. “Oh, now that was completely different!”

“Is it now? You ate rocks, I ate rocks. Seems pretty similar to me,” Link says, unwrapping a dark clump directly in front of her eyes. His little diversionary tactic nearly works out when he drops it into the cooking pot and the whole content shifts to a dark blue, but she shakes off the urge to investigate.

“You ate the rock roast for sports. For me, there was no alternative to this measurement. I took the risk of losing myself entirely to give you a fighting chance!”

“Well, I saved diplomatic relationships with the Gorons, as you surely remember. And just for the record, it was a Rock Roast Flambé.”

“You are ridiculous and you know it.”

“Ridiculous, huh? The Princess of Hyrule causing a scandal by refusing to eat traditional food prepared especially for her? I saved your ass back then.” By now, he can’t help the grin tugging at his lips. Her eyes flash dangerously when he passes her a bowl of dark soup. "What?" He laughs. "It's true and you know it. Just admit that you're just as unhinged as I am."

"It was a sacrifice," she insists, blowing over her spoonful of blue soup. "For Hyrule. And you. Although you make me second-guess myself about the latter."

"Ah, come on. You seemed pretty happy to see me earlier although it has hardly been two weeks."

"Two we—" she starts, her spoon freezing mid-air and soup dripping back into her bowl.

"I know, I know, last time I only needed a couple of hours after I woke up. Rauru kept holding me back. Tricked me into thinking you were at the sky island."

"Well," she deadpans. "It sure felt like an eternity for me."

He knows he's missing something with the way she chuckles dryly, but she'll bring it up again later. He'll feel stupid for the things he said, then, but she says it's part of his charm, so he doesn't mind.

They eat in amicable silence, fire cracking and soup simmering. Farore buzzes in the distance, climbing the skies at her own, leisurely pace. Link's gaze follows her for a while, but then he turns back to Zelda.

"Did you chew it?!"

"Link!!!!!!"

[racoonkal]

messed up (d. kaminari x reader)

cw: CHEATING, 18+, edging, handjob, kinda exhibition-y?, and seriously cheating, like actual scum-of-the-earth cheating 

2.8k words 

nsfw // aged up characters // minors dni

The beach was messy. Very, very messy. And you were the monster that was coming back from it with tar on your shins and sand in almost every crevice

Kaminari pounded on the bathroom door in annoyance. You had been in there for 30 minutes and he was starting to get impatient.

“Hurry uuhhhhhp,” he whined. “You’ve been in there for five-ever.” Kaminari leaned his back on the door, making the lock shudder and door thump.

“I told you I was gonna take a while, Kam.” You responded halfheartedly, while massaging the shampoo into your scalp. The water hitting the floor felt quiet for a moment.

“I didn’t think you’d take this long.” He continued complaining through the bathroom door. “Oh, and just letting you know, Ser and Kyoka got SO bored waiting, they went to grab food from downstairs lobby.” Your fingers stoped moving. You thought you’d heard the room door open and close earlier.

“I mean if you’re that desperate to shower, we could always share.” You wondered if he could hear the excitement in your voice, but after a few seconds of silence on his end you wondered if he heard you at all. “Denki? Door’s unlocked, and Hanta and Jirou are downstairs, probably getting high or something if they’ve been gone for this long, and knowing them they-” but your long list of reasons was cut off by the shower curtain being pulled back by a hand you knew a little too well.

Kaminari exhaled deeply while he took in your figure. It wasn’t often he saw this, at least from you, he desperately wanted to remember every inch but you were quick to grab his wrist and edge his body in further. He fumbled forward but eventually found his balance in the shower. Now the experience became completely immersive. Your lips were pursed in a crooked grin before you handed Kaminari a soapy loofah and turned around. “I was wondering if you could scrub my back. There’s a spot I can never reach.” The words slipped off your tongue so easily and so carelessly. It’s like you had rehearsed this. Kaminari was certain his cheeks were glowing scarlet at this point. Your hand scooped your hair and brought it over your shoulder to give him full access to your spine and others. You swear you heard him gulp.

Sure, you two had been somewhat intimate, but this was intimate. The kind that you had never shared before, the kind you thought you weren’t supposed to share.

The loofah scrubbed at your skin with Kaminari’s fingers seasoning the feeling. This was only the second time you’d ever felt such a focused presence like this emit from him. (The first time was when you watched him try to tune his guitar by ear.) Your awareness kicked back in once you realized the motion of his hand had slowed to a stop and pulled away. 

Turning over your shoulder to give him a shit-eating smile he would deny that he loved, you certainly didn’t expect to be practically nose-to-nose with him and his water-freckled face. Your eyes shot open and he peered into you, now taking in the proximity of your bodies. You were both compromised, and that was all it took. His pupils blew up like fireworks at the sight of you this close and you could tell in his shifts in positions that he was itching for something. Maybe it was a touch or a sign–you weren’t completely sure–but you placed your hand over his. You guided his right hand to the spot just above your hip that you knew he was used to resting in. Your eyes never left his, and his hands eventually realized their true spot on your love handles, holding to your sides, saying “I’ve got you,” in the only way he could say at that moment. 

It wasn’t long before the rest of him melted into you. As quickly as you inhaled from the contact, Kaminari exhaled hotly into the junction between your neck shoulder before leaving a tender kiss on the protruding muscle cause by your turned head. You couldn’t help but giddily smile and bite your lip to yourself, hoping he couldn’t see your excitement. He continued leaving kisses along you neck and collarbone until you turned to face him, forcing Kaminari to pull back, but his hands still clung to your sides. You could tell he was drunk on you and couldn’t help but hold your grin. Kaminari chuckled and crouched over so his forehead tapped yours.

Your fingers traced his lips that dared to press into yours. “Today was perfect,” you let out.

“What is it, baby?” he asked, a smile pulling on his lips. Your giddiness was starting to infect him.

“Just thinking about how perfect today was for us, like specifically us.”

“For us?”

“Yup. For you and me,” you unnecessarily clarified. His hands ran up your sides while he eyed your body under his touch. You grabbed his face, though, and forced his eyes to you. “Us, okay?”

And in the most sincerest way possible, he smiled at you, content with the pronoun used to describe you two. The shower felt impossibly warmer as the steam was starting to come into play, fogging up any actions that followed. Of course you’d blame them on the steam and he’d blame it on those damn eyes that were impossible to say no to. You were both painfully in denial and dancing with devils. 

It wasn’t long before he had your back pressed into the damp tile walls, his lips ravaging yours. Your hands grasped on his blond locks like you would fall without his soft hair between your fingers. It’s not like he was any better though, his fingers pressing into your love handles, holding for dear life. You were both so scared the other would slip between your fingers if you didn’t hold on tight enough. You were both blind to see how dependent you were on each other. Being friends for so long does that to people.

The primal kissing eventually slowed down, allowing oxygen to reach your brain. Your slowly trailed one hand down from Kaminari’s hair, exploring his shoulder to his forearm before finding his half-erect dick. You fingers delicately glided up the underside of his shaft (this was your way of letting Kaminari know he was about to have the best handjob of his life), before you started pumping up and down, your thumb occasionally swiping over his tip. 

You knew exactly what Kaminari was feeling at the moment it happened. The way his shoulders would flinch whenever he repressed a god-awful, bottom-like moan to avoid your teasing. The way his lips became tender and sensual on yours as he tried to exhibit some form of self-control. The soft groans and pursing eyebrows you never missed from him. Kaminari came up for air. You knew he was close by the way he hid in face in the junction of your neck and shoulder and the sweet little chokes and moans he couldn’t keep bottled up anymore.

Your hand worked faster, up and down, bringing Kaminari to his high that was so close, so so close. He was ready to beg for it when he felt your hand abruptly pull away, but the reason for it became known.

“Babe? Are you still in there?” Sero volumed into the door.

Shit.

It should have come to no surprise that your boyfriend had been gone for long enough to expect his arrival at any given moment, but in your dreamy state with Kaminari, it seemed that both of you had lost track of time. You both had become unaware of the the unnerving beep of a hotel key sensor that would have yanked anyone back to the ground zero of reality.

Kaminari’s eyes widened at his voice. That pit of guilt he always tried to ignore built in his stomach. You should’ve been more cautious. You should have recognized the lazy steps of Sero Hanta come in. 

“Babe?” He repeated. Kaminari pitifully tried to pull away, but you were quick to make your palm and grip the only thing he should care about again. 

“U-uh, ya. ‘M not done yet, though,” you responded over the water’s rhythm. Sero shrugged it off, mumbling something about how you’re weird for taking such long showers.

Your hand was starting to find it’s pace again, stroking Kaminari up and down and up and down. You bit your lip, trying to desperately forget the world outside.

“What are you...-fUck!” Kaminari gasped, trying to think rationally about the situation you were putting him in. 

“You really thought I was gonna let you off that easy?” You words would smirk if they could. “Just keep quiet. Everything’s gonna be fine,” you whisper into his ear. Despite the steaming water, he shivers from a multitude of things. Your voice, your touch, the absolutely horrifying fact that your boyfriend was waiting for you just outside this bathroom door and yet you were so adamant on helping Kaminari get off with your hand. You were practically a monster.

He absolutely loved it.

It was that extra squeeze you added just for him that sent him into a pleasure-filled spiral. His hips pitifully fucked into your grip a few times and his hands squeezed you with such a raw grasp, it took everything in you to not tease him about it. His whimpers and moans vibrated to your collarbone and eventually, his small thrusts came to a stop and it seemed that he remembered how to breath again. It was shaky, but breathing nonetheless. A soft and stuttered fuck instinctively rolled from his lips before he lazily lifted his head from your shoulder. Kaminari’s hair was now shaggy and damp, casting over his ore eyes. He looked down and noticed the cummy mess all over your hand and stomach. He could only smirk before meeting your confident eyes. 

“Y’know, I would offer to clean it all up for you, but uh, your boyfriend has us on a bit of a time crunch so you’ll just have to settle for the hand,” Kaminari snarked before grabbing your wrist and bringing your white-covered hand to his face. He tried his best to keep eye contact with you while lapping all his cum from your fingers and between. You were amazed at how he was somehow cocky as ever, though he was probably just annoyed that despite any common sense, you “forced” him to pathetically cum all over you. 

You had almost gotten lost watching him clean himself from your palms, but his soft and swollen lips finding yours again crashed a wave of reality into you again. Your melted into this one, tasting the lingering saltiness of his seed until the taste vanished and all that was left was him. Well, almost all that was left. You sighed when he pulled away, your head now averted in shame.

You needed and escape plan and fast.

It took a minute of contemplation, but eventually your were slipping out the bathroom, the water now turned off and steam seeping out door by your sides as is you were an angel, at least, that’s how Sero saw it when he noticed you finally coming out of your cave.

His head had perked up from his mindless scrolling to notice you. His view followed you all the way to your bag of clothes. You rummaged in it for a bit before turning around and meeting Sero’s gaze. You smirked at him. “What?” You knew exactly what you were doing.

“Nothing, you just...” Sero’s hue changed a bit while he tried to find words. Like a fox, you approached the prey that was you boyfriend.

“ ’I just...’ what?” You mocked him and you swear his cheeks turned every color of the rainbow just from the sound of your voice. Sero gulped as he resisted the urge to look you up and down like you were his last meal. You bit your lip before straddling yourself on top of him. This was too easy.

You licked your lips while your hands glided down from his stomach to the rim of his pants. So much tension and no semblance of a conversation. It was like you could read each others minds. Your fingers started tugging his pants down while he watched in anticipation. Neither of you had even noticed Kaminari slip out the bathroom and to the entrance door.

Then the heavy protective door fell shut. The click of the latch caused Sero to whip his head to the entrance of the room to see Kaminari fully clothed, accompanied by damp hair and a towel over his neck.

“S-shit,” Sero cussed. He shoved your hands away from his shaft and adjusted his pants. This was the moment you realized Kaminari's secret talent of acting. There was not a single care on his face until he saw the two of you. His hand’s gripped the towel that was around his shoulders while he shot the both of you a confused and then almost disgusted look upon realization. 

“Were you guys about to- on MY bed!?” His tone perfectly reflected that sort of morbid disgust one would feel when catching their best friends trying to fuck. You weren’t sure how he pulled it off.

Sero sat up and cleared his throat before you slid off him and went back to your bag, looking for clothes. 

“Were were you,” Sero managed to choke out, trying to relieve the awkward aroma he was imagining, though he did find it a bit unsettling how okay you seemed with Kaminari seeing you with nothing but a thing hotel towel to keep you decent.

“Got bored of waiting,” Kaminari shrugged before pulling his towel off his shoulders and setting it on a table. “I ended up just showering in Bakugo’s room since the dude takes showers like a bullet. I think he might actually qualify to be in the Guinness Book of World Records or something, it’s actually insane.” Sero just smiled at the useless knowledge Kaminari had bestowed on him, knowing how much he could ramble on about anything and nothing.

Like it was a character cue, that stupid, sullen, keycard click for the hotel door clicked and in came a new opponent.

As quickly as Jirou came in, you had retreated back into the bathroom where you changed into some clothes. You may have also sought sanctuary in there to avoid Jirou’s habit, since you knew the first thing she would do after entering the room was plant a soft kiss on Kaminari’s cheek. It was only logical that she show affection to her partner. They would have it no other way, of course. It was a habit between them that you knew too well, perhaps it was even a habit that had driven you to even consider dating Sero.

It was only about a minute before you came out of the bathroom this time, though Jirou’s perfect face was the first one you saw upon exiting, most likely because she was aching to finally shower and rid herself of the tides messy short-comings. You flashed her a friendly smile before saying “it’s all yours” and walking past her to get to Sero who was still laying on the bed. You tapped his lovelessly knee to grab his attention. 

“We’re going for dinner soon so you should probably shower in Bakugo and Kiri’s room,” you suggested. He could feel the shallowness in your suggestion, but obeyed regardless since he knew Ashido would have his head if he was late to her dinner reservation. Sero ruffled the top of your head before grabbing his change off clothes and dragging his feet to their friends’ room.

Finally, the click of that latch felt appealing. You exalted and flopped onto the mattress. The screaming of the distantly running shower drowned out your mind. “Okay,” Kaminari shoved your body over a bit. “Scoot over. You’re not the only shitty human being here.” He plopped down next to you, exhaustion consuming his entire being. You were curious how no one had noticed his flushed post-sex glow. “Hm?” He could tell something was on your mind when your staring didn’t falter.

You sighed and said the most painful thing you could’ve. It was now that your staring would falter, now taking interest in the ceiling.

“I think love you.”

Kaminari blew air. It was a lot to say and a lot to hear, but it only took him a moment to process.

“I... think I love you too,” he cringed a bit. You could tell. Not because there was anything wrong with loving you, but because he really shouldn’t love you.

You thought you were gonna vomit. You were both sick.

“This is so fucked.”

Bathing yourself was pointless. You were still dirty after showering. That tar was forever stuck to your legs. 

The beach was messy.

[nomoreusername]

Pumpkin Time

Pairing:Thomas x female reader

Summary:You and Thomas have completely different ways of decorating your pumpkins.

Technically, we’re too old to trick or treat now. We're supposed to be the mature ones, handing out the candy.

To be fair, I tried to do that. I just ended up doing more of eating it than passing it out. In my defense, Snickers are basically my kryptonite. Call me basic, but they’ve stuck around as a popular candy for a reason. They're good, and we got the full sized stuff.

“Thomas, don't eat all the candy,”Y/N scolded, taking the pumpkin basket out of my hands.

“But I want to pass out the sweets,”I argued.

“No. You want to eat all the sweets,”She corrected, pulling out another bowl. I followed her, peeking over her shoulder. She sighed as she lightly ran her hair through my hair, making me grin, before she separated around half. Not that that made the size any less significant. We had gone all out this year. We usually do.

She took the new bowl to the door, grabbing the take two sign on her way out. I followed, watching diligently as she placed it on her front porch before shutting and locking the door.

“Pumpkin time?”I guessed, locking my fingers together as I pleaded with my eyes. She chuckled a little at my reaction before placing a quick kiss on my cheek.

“Yes, my love. Pumpkin time,”She clarified.

With a huge grin I followed her out back, to her other porch. Her laptop was already open, playing a special playlist just for this evening. I hummed along to the lyrics as I sat beside her, grabbing my pumpkin and knife.

“The old fashioned way I see,”She teased, picking up her glitter and glue.

“If it ain't broke, don't fix it,”I shrugged.

“I prefer to think I’m improving it,”She countered.

“Improving, destroying the sanctity of, same difference.”

“You won't have such a smart mouth when you see the end result,”She bet.

“Unfortunately, I’ll always have a smart mouth. I truly thank you for trying though.”

“Do you really?”She snickered, wearing a barely concealed smile as she began placing her glue down. I sort of followed her lead, cutting the top of my pumpkin.

“No. No I do not.”

“Luckily, I didn't think so.”

“Or unluckily, depending on how you look at it,”I pointed out.

“I have you this Halloween so I’m very lucky.”

“If that's the case, then I’m the luckiest of them all.”

“Really? How come?”She asked, uncapping one of her several glitters as I put the pumpkin guts and seeds on a tray.

I really thought that was obvious.

“Because I have you of course.”

[honeyjars-sims]

1.33 Getting to Know You

Lexie: Ugh, I’m so terrible at this!

Johnny: The trick is to not roll the ball into the gutter.

Lexie: Wow, thanks. It’s all so clear to me now!

Johnny: [laughs] I’m just teasing. It’s not like I’m doing that well myself. Why don’t we take a break and eat some terrible bowling alley food?

Lexie: Sure, I could go for some chips covered in a vaguely cheese-like substance.

Johnny: And I’ve been craving some pizza that tastes like cardboard.

[Lexie and Johnny are eating]

Johnny: I’m sorry if you’re not having a good time. 

Lexie: Oh, it’s ok. I may not be a great bowler, but I’m enjoying the company.

Johnny: Cool. I like spending time with you, too. I guess we haven’t really talked about much other than school. You grew up in Brindleton Bay, right?

Lexie: Yep, lived there all my life. I miss it sometimes. It’s definitely a friendlier place than Del Sol Valley. Luckily it’s not too far away. What about you?

Johnny: I’m from Evergreen Harbor. Grim's Quarry to be exact. It’s one of those places where everybody knows everybody else. Del Sol is a hard place to get used to, but it’s nice to have a change of scenery. So do you have any siblings?

Lexie: Nope. It’s just me and my parents. I always wanted to have a sibling, but it’s weird thinking about sharing my parents’ attention with someone else.

Johnny: I can’t imagine being an only child. The extra attention sounds nice, though! Are you pretty close with your parents?

Lexie: Yeah, they’re both pretty chill. And they’ve always supported me. They’ve been married for like 20 years.

Johnny: My parents have been together a long time, too. My dads I mean. 

Lexie: That's cool! You mentioned your mom before, right?

Johnny: Yeah. She and my Pops dated a little while before he came out. And then me and Chantal happened. Pops didn’t know about us until a few years ago, though. We went to live with him around when we turned 14.

Lexie: Wow, sounds like an interesting story! Why did you stop living with your mom?

Johnny: Sorry, but I don’t really want to talk about that right now.

Lexie: Oh, ok. Sorry for bringing it up.

Johnny: It’s cool. It’s just kinda a heavy story for a first date.

Lexie: Understood. You seem pretty close to your dads.

Johnny: Yeah, it took me a while to get comfortable with them but they’re really great. I can talk to them about pretty much anything. 

Lexie: That sounds amazing. 

Johnny: My life would have been very different without them, for sure. I wouldn’t even be sitting here with you now because I probably wouldn’t have gone to college.

Lexie: Well, I’m glad that you are.

Johnny: Me too.

Previous | Beginning | Beginning of chapter | Next

[anon-e-miss]

Kintsugi - Memory Box

“Whatcha got there, Ori?” Jazz asked. Prowl raised his helm from Jazz’s lap. He had been reading but had dozed off. If he was not actively doing something, anything Prowl was forever falling into recharge.

“Rust sticks from Mirror’s place,” Punch replied. “Prowl’s favourite, as I recall.”

“Yes,” Prowl said, rubbing the fuzz from his optics. “I haven’t had any in stellar-cycles.

“Well these are all for ya,” Punch declared. “I got a couple o’ treats for the Twins since it’s almost their emergence-cycle.”

“I used to bake them Praxian sweets,” Prowl murmured.

“Did ya know?” Punch asked. “I outta known that. I don’t want ya standin’ in the kitchen but if we pull a stool up for ya, I can help ya bake whate’er ya want.”

“I am sure you and Jazz already have plans for their cake,” Prowl said.

“Nothin’, nothin’ is going be as special as somethin’ baked by their ori,” Punch replied. “I was wonderin’, Jazz. Ya hadn’t set anythin’ in stone...”

“I don’t think a party right now is a good idea,” Jazz said and his originator sighed and nodded in agreement.

“What do you mean?” Prowl asked. Jazz helped him sit up. Prowl’s doorwings quivered. He did not want to be the reason they missed out.

“Prowl, the reason ain’t got a party planned already is ‘cause all they’ve asked for when I’ve asked ‘m want they wanna do is to see ya,” Jazz explained. “All those two care about now is that Ori’s home, ‘n I don’t think they have any idea it’s their emergence-cycle. Y’ll make their cakes like ya always did ‘n we’ll celebrate together.”

“I do not want to deprive them,” Prowl said. Jazz kissed his temple.

“I deprived them,” he said. “All they’ve wanted his their ori. That’s it. We’ll eat their favourite fuels ‘n stay ‘n. They can have friends o’er some other time when they ask after it but let’s be real, mostly they wanna run up ‘n play wit Blue. Primus’ knows he ain’t allowed to slum it down here.”

“Somethings have not changed,” Prowl sighed. “As I understand it, his nanny homeschools him. Other than the Twins, I do not believe he sees much of other sparklings.”

“Poor thing,” Punch said. “Don’t think I e’er seen his procreators.”

“I have seen a femme with some Praxian heritage escort him to a transport,” Prowl revealed. “But I do not know if she was yet another staffmecha or kin.”

“He’s such a sweet mechlin’,” Jazz said. “Could be ripe for trouble when he becomes a younglin’.”

“If his procreators do not ship him off to a boarding school,” Prowl said.

“For now, at least, he knows he’s got friends,” Punch said. “Best we can do.”

“I forgot to grab yer present when we was leavin’ that Pit ya was stuck in, Prowl,” Jazz said. “I was thinkin’, can I borrow yer key card ‘n go grab’em for ya. Rather ya didn’t go out, even in a transport. Yer exhausted.”

“I do not know why,” Prowl said. “I have done nothing but fuel or recharge but the moment I am not actively engaged in something, I fall into recharge.”

“It’s a good sign,” Punch assured him. “Yer frame’s finally gettin’ the nutrients it needs to forge those bitties ‘n it’s exhaustin’ work, even if ya don’t feel like y’re doin’ anythin’. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’ve made huge bounds when ya see Ratchet again.”

“I hope so,” Prowl replied as he stroked his belly. It might have been his imagine but he thought his newsparks were a little more active and it and Punch’s assurances gave him some hope. “I do not know if it is worth the trip, Jazz. All I got them was cheap junk.”

“Not junk,” Jazz countered. He did not bother to argue on the matter of cheap, there was no arguing. “Gifts that suit’em. Gifts their Ori bought’em.”

“Someone may well have cleared the place out,” Prowl said. He offered Jazz his key card. “The landlord is... creative in his interpretation of the law. If it has not been... I left a box in the closet, on the top shelf. It would be hard to miss. It is the only thing there. Could you grab it too?”

“O’ course, Sweetspark,” Jazz replied as he took the card from Prowl. “Rest while ‘m gone.”

“How ‘bout some o’ those rust sticks, Love?” Punch set the box on the table next to Prowl’s perch on the couch. “Grazin’ is a good way to put on mass without feelin’ sick for it.”

“Okay,” Prowl agreed. He took a rust stick from the box and took a bite. It melted in his mouth. Optics dimming with pleasure, he tugged the blanket over his lap. They were just as good as he remembered.

“Are ya cold?” Punch asked.

“Not really,” Prowl said. “I just do not... keep warm.”

“Let’s see if we can’t make ya feel a bit cozier,” Punch declared. He disappeared into his berthroom, it had been Prowl’s office at one point. Prowl felt no bitterness for its change in servo, though he knew in the past, he would have. Punch returned carrying a stack of linens. “First, some sleeves for yer doors.”

Punch pulled the knitted sleeves over Prowl’s doorwings and then wrapped another blanket around his back and over his shoulders. It was overkill. Though Frigus’ chill had not passed yet, it was Saltus and passed the point of freezing mega-cycles. Prowl did not brush off the blankets though. He took a cube of ruby tea from Punch and nibbled on rust sticks as they watched a holo-drama on the TV. Maybe it was not what Prowl would normally have chosen to watch, it was light, mindless entertainment and Prowl did not sink into recharge precisely but he sank into warmth and contentment. A sharp rebuke in his originator’s voice told Prowl he ought to be a proper host and converse with Punch, he he fell into a comfortable fugue instead, and stayed there until Jazz returned.

***

Jazz could have forced the door and no one would have cared. That was not to say no one would have noticed but not a spark in the petrorat invested Pit was going to stick their neck out for their neighbour. Who wanted to risk the wrong end of a drug dealer’s bat or blaster? Life had very little worth when you lived this far below the poverty line. He did not blame any of them for keeping their doors locked, such as one of these locks could really stop someone with murderous intent. Cheap as their lives were, they were still their lives and Jazz thought Prowl’s neighbours had every right to preserve theirs. Someone else might have thought to call code enforcement to get the freezing death trap condemned but that would not be a mercy to these mechanisms, they would be on the streets then.

The light flickered overhead when Jazz flicked the switch and the petrorats hissed. Jazz hissed back. They had made themselves quite at home in Prowl’s absence and Jazz might have felt sorry even for them living like this, but one of them had bit Prowl. Any one of them would have eaten him, still alive, when the Petrorat bite fever had taken hold and left Prowl too weak to move. He would walked into Prowl’s berthroom and as he did, the petrorats scattered. Though they hissed, it was an empty threat, they were smart enough to know that he could crush anyone of them under his ped. Just as Prowl had said, there was a box on the top shelf of the closet. It was the only thing in the closet.

What was in the box? Jazz had never seen it before. When he had forced Prowl to move out, Jazz did not remember seeing it. Could it have come from his office, after the enforcers had turned him out. Just the thought of that outrage made Jazz bristle. How could any of them have believed for a nanoklik that Prowl would want to or even need to blackmail Chromedome into fragging? That mech had been optic fragging Prowl since forever, and Jazz had even heard them tease Chromedome when they thought Jazz could not hear. Not one of them had teased Prowl, everyone had known he was oblivious. Had Chromedome felt victorious when he had slipped his spike into Prowl, after the divorce had been finalized? Jazz hated the thought and hated that he was sure it was true. He had given Chromedome that victory and nothing could ever change that. The bitlets Prowl carried were proof.

“No,” Jazz snarled at himself. He would not let those sorts of thoughts rot his wiring.

The bitlets were Prowl’s. For the next twenty or thirty stellar-cycles, Jazz would contributed to them and even if he had not been the one to strike the ember, he would give them his code. They would be his in every way that mattered. He wondered what Chromedome would think when he learned that Jazz had taken Prowl back and than he had taken the bitties Prowl carried on. There was a chance it would set the aft off and Jazz thought it would not hurt to be prepared. It would not hurt that his contract came with a lawyer on call. Jazz would give them a call, get her in the know. Maybe, it would not hurt to talk to her about Prowl’s termination. Of course, Prowl was is no condition to return to the enforcers, but after all the work he had done, after they had railroaded him, Jazz thought Prowl deserved some kind of severance. Maybe he was naive but the lawyer would give it to him straight.

“It’s all yers,” Jazz told the petrorats as he lifted up the bagged gifts.

He took one look back over the depressing seen Prowl had lived in for stellar-cycles. Never again. From now one, Prowl was be warm, comfortable and safe and when Jazz went platinum, he would buy them a home, not a condo, a home all their own, and they would fill it with love. Caught up in thought, Jazz did not notice the scrawny speedster until he moved but Jazz saw the sheen of light on the edge of the chipped blade and reacted. Jazz ducked, swung out his ped and knocked the junkie’s legs from out from under him. He knocked the knife away, sent it clattering down the stairs. Before the speedster could try anything else, or runaway, Jazz pinned him to the floor with a ped against his neck.

“Thought ya’d let me do the work ‘n rob me on the way out, h’uh?” Jazz asked.

“Where’d you take him?” The speedster wheezed. Jazz lifted his ped off the mech’s throat, letting him speak more clearly. His optics glowed in the hazy wildness of Syk.

“Home,” Jazz replied. “Prowl’s my ex-conjunx. I brought’m back home to our mechlings.”

“Forgot to pay alimony?” The speedster was snarky, Jazz could appreciate it.

“He was payin’ me,” Jazz replied, lifting his ped from the mech’s neck and offering his servo. “Didn’t tell the court he’d lost his job ‘n gotten sparked up.”

“Not yours then,” the speedster said, and coughed as he rubbed this throat as he let Jazz pull him to his peds.

“Mine now,” Jazz replied. He slipped a card from a slid in his bracer and slid it into the speedster’s servo. “Ya e’er get into some real trouble, take this card ‘n go to the back door o’ the Free Clinic. The medic’s a friend. He’s see ya, nice ‘n anonymous like.”

“Why?” The speedster narrowed his optics as he looked at the card.

“It’s haunted ya that ya didn’t stop me from takin’m,” Jazz said. “It’s kept ya awake wonderin’ what I might o’ done wit’m. Ya ne’er thought ya’d get the chance to try ‘n make it right but when ya heard me go in, ya took yer chance.”

“Why’d you come back?” The mech asked.

“‘Cause I got distracted wit’m bein’ sick ‘n forgot the presents he got for our mechlings,” Jazz replied. “He starved to buy these for’em so he deserves to see’em use ‘em.”

“That seems... fair,” the speedster sighed and relaxed his shoulders.

“What’s yer designation?” Jazz asked.

“Drift.”

“Remember the card,” Jazz told Drift as he took his leave. “He don’t judge. He’ll put ya right. Ratchet don’t care if ya use Syk or anythin’. He won’t turn ya in to the enforcers. He don’t care about that slag. He’ll help ya get clean or he’ll help fix whate’er breaks. He’s one o’ the good ones.”

“Thanks.”

[hymnoire]

   Old pictures of myself.

   2024, October.

"I don’t like looking at old pictures of myself. When I do, I stare at them for hours, like I’m waiting for the girl in them to speak. The edges are worn, the colors have bled out. They look like they’ve forgotten me. And maybe I have too. The shape of my eyes feels foreign, the mole above my lip—missing. The little scars I used to trace with my fingertips, gone. Were they ever there? Was I ever there? I never asked my father why I belonged here, in this family. I didn’t need to. When I sat quietly in corners, feeling out of place, he’d always find me. “My favorite daughter,” he’d say, his voice soft, his words wrapping around me like a blanket. “You’re special, Gaya. The others just don’t understand you.” And I believed him. How could I not? When he said it, I felt like it was true. But now, when I look back, I wonder. I wonder if something is wrong. My memories feel... off, like they’ve shifted in my sleep, rearranged themselves when I wasn’t looking. The Swans of Misericorde—the cold stone floors, the echoes of girls like me. Like Kaeleena, my sister. They told us we were being made perfect. That we were destined for greatness. But I wonder now if they took more than they gave. Did they carve pieces out of me and replace them with something else? Someone else? I remember the adoption ceremony. It felt like a dream—a new life laid out before me, all shiny and polished. But when I think of it now, it feels staged, like I was watching it happen from far away. The Kangs were powerful. Wealthy. And just like that, I became one of them. A politician’s daughter. A philanthropist’s daughter. It was all so smooth, so easy. Too easy. Did I ever have a say? Or was this always decided for me, long before I even knew? I can still hear him. My father. “Gaya, you love chocolate cake. Eat your chocolate cake.” He’d push the plate closer, smiling like it was a private joke between us. But do I? Did I ever? Or did they just tell me I did, like everything else they told me? His voice, full of warmth and secrets. Secrets I wasn’t supposed to question. But here I am, questioning everything. Trying to pull apart the pieces, trying to see what’s really mine and what was placed inside me. There’s something in the dark, something hidden in the spaces between the memories. Something I need to remember. Or maybe... something I was meant to forget."

[ethereal-bumble-bee]

heyy uh… idrk how this works but could we maybe get some Javey hurt/comfort where jack gets really overwhelmed by everything during the strike and davey calms him down? something like that. if not that’s totally ok! love your work <3

(Note: Thank you so much for requesting something! Super sorry that this took a while, but I really hope you enjoy! Anyone who’s reading this, feel free to request anything you’d like to see- I’m always happy to write requests! 😁)

Everything’s falling apart.

Jack couldn’t stop the whirlwind of thoughts running rampant through his brain, worry and regret eating at his mind until he could barely hear a logical thought over the emotions screaming in his head. He’d just barely been able to find a place quiet enough to try and sort them out- little did he know that the isolation only served to worsen the spiral.

It must have been hours that he sat there, though it was probably only minutes. Eventually, the volume in his head lowered to a dull roar, and Jack stared numbly at the wall in front of him in the dark, lonely alleyway that he’d chosen to sit in. Despite the heat of the summer night, cold worry chilled his bones, seeping into his hands as they ran through his hair.

Everything’s falling apart. The strike was as good as over. They hadn’t even been able to get Brooklyn on their side, nor had that article gotten anyone else to even bat an eye at their cause. Crutchie was gone, his boys were beaten half to hell by Pulitzer’s goons, and Jack had all but lost hope.

He suddenly heard the crunch of a step onto dirt and gravel, and he glanced up to see Davey standing in the mouth of the alleyway, frowning into the darkness until his gaze caught the other boy’s.

“Jack?” he asked, and Jack didn’t dare answer for fear of his voice breaking in response. “Are you okay?”

Jack still didn’t reply as Davey sat down next to him, taking in his disheveled clothing and red-rimmed eyes. “You’re one hell of a sight,” Davey commented, trying to lighten the mood but failing as his pleasant expression turned to one of concern. “How long has it been since you slept?”

“Dunno,” Jack muttered. “Why do you care?” His voice came out more aggressive than planned, and he felt guilt stab through him at the sight of Davey recoiling. God, I can’t do anything right, can I?

“I’m worried about you, Jackie,” Davey admitted. “Well, I’m worried about a lot of things, but mostly you.” He took a deep breath before meeting Jack’s gaze with an intensity Jack had never seen before- a sort of caring look in his eyes that felt more like a glare. “Things aren’t great right out there right now, and those boys need their leader.”

“And it’s one hell of a leader they’ve got.” Jack sighed, trying to keep the prickling at the back of his eyes at bay. “I failed ‘em, Dave. It’s my fault that Crutchie’s locked up and the rest of them are hurt.” His voice wobbled, and he choked out the last sentence as if it were poison. “They’re better off without me.”

“Jack.” Davey’s voice was soft, and his words seemed more of a whisper as he set a hand on Jack’s shoulder. “That isn’t true, and you know it.” He smiled kindly. “It’s not like we’ve done this before, Jackie. When was the last time you led a strike?”

“Never.” Jack knew it was a rhetorical question, but he was too tired to care.

“Exactly,” Davey encouraged, wrapping his arms around Jack and pulling him close. He smelled of cinnamon mixed with fresh-baked bread, and Jack closed his eyes and relished the warmth of the hug.

“We’re all scared,” Davey admitted. “Damn it, I’d be lying if I said I’m not terrified right now.” He chuckled, and Jack couldn’t help but smile as he continued. “They need someone to let them know that they’re gonna be alright,” he said seriously, holding Jack at arm’s length to look him in the eye. “Your boys trust you, Jack. You make them feel safe, protected… cared for.”

Jack nodded, still not completely at ease. “What if I fail ‘em again?” He worried aloud, feeling helpless and humiliated that he couldn’t stay strong- even in front of Davey, even for the kids that were counting on him.

Davey shook his head. “You won’t,” he decided. “No matter what goes down after this moment, I know that you haven’t let us down. You’re going to be okay,” he promised, and Jack felt a strange but not unpleasant warmth blossom in his chest as Davey hugged him tighter, resting his chin on Jack’s shoulder.

“Thanks, Dave,” Jack whispered, and Davey pulled back with a smile.

“You’re my friend,” he replied. “I care about you.”

Jack closed his eyes and smiled as Davey pulled him into another embrace, laughing softly and burying his face in the taller boy’s neck. After a while, Davey stood up, offering his hand to Jack.

“So, what do you say?” Davey asked as Jack let him pull him to his feet. “Are we going to win this damned strike, or what?”

[thelordofgifs]

A director’s commentary on chapter 11 of the faintest stars?

(director’s cut ask game)

Oooh, going back a bit! Good choice, though, part 11 of the fairest stars is a fun one, and where I think the story started to take shape as something recognisably itself. On a bigger structural level, the centre of the action in the first arc is Menegroth, and one important function of part 11 is to kick off the first arc by shifting the focus to Himring, and all the Drama taking place there.

We start immediately where we left off after the cliffhanger in part 10, when Curufin lied to Maedhros that Maglor and Fingon are both dead:

“I don’t,” says Maedhros, “I don’t – believe you.”

It’s very cold in Himring, suddenly. And has the wind always been this loud, or that just the blood rushing in his ears?

Over it he catches brief snatches of Curufin’s explanation: Maglor was already dead by the time they got to Menegroth, and Fingon was killed as they were trying to escape, and Thingol took the Silmaril as well despite Curufin’s best efforts.

“But,” Maedhros says, “but—”

Words have always come so easily to him, but now they’ve all dried up.

It’s just… cold.

Writing Maedhros’ reaction to Curufin’s lie was a fun (and also rather painful) part of exploring his characterisation in tfs. I do like the idea that grief makes him completely freeze over; it gels, I think, with his actions in the aftermath of the Nirnaeth, which are defined by total passivity. Notably, it’s Celegorm, not Maedhros, who spearheads the Second Kinslaying. Which is what informs this line:

Grief makes Maedhros biddable. He eats when Curufin sends food up to his chambers, signs the papers he's given without reading them, and, when Curufin informs him that they should march on Doriath, says only, "Fine, I don't care."

So, anyway, with Maedhros in this very passive state Curufin manages to wrest control of Himring without any difficulty. Unlike Maedhros, Curufin’s reaction to his own dreadful grief for Celegorm is to make Bad Decisions, and then to make Even Worse Decisions.

Celegorm is dead, Curufin reminds himself, and hardens his heart.

He has a Plan.

The thing is that Fingon might have been improbably lucky in a rescue mission once, but that's no reason to think the feat can be repeated. It's far more likely that Thingol will kill him, and take the second Silmaril too, and make Curufin's lie into a prophecy: and then where will they be?

… yeah I don’t think Curufin’s logic actually makes any sense here. Notably: how is he planning to get through the Girdle without a Silmaril!! But he is trying very hard to convince himself that attacking Doriath is actually his only sensible option, because as it turned out sending Maedhros into a mental health crisis was not very satisfying and he still needs to lash out in his grief.

And it is a bad mental health crisis:

Case in point: one time Curufin suggests, rather tentatively, that since Fingon is dead and nobody knows where Turgon disappeared to, it might be time for the overlordship of the Noldor to return to the elder line of Finwë. Let Maedhros claim now the title he was born to, the title his father named him for.

Maedhros looks directly at him for the first time in a while, says, very precisely, "I will kill you if you say that again," and then walks out.

After that nobody finds it hard to believe, as Curufin implied a while ago, that the Lord of Himring has gone a little mad.

(Foreshadowing!! Maedhros has been threatening to kill a younger brother for a while before he actually tries to carry it out. Although admittedly I hadn’t thought of the stabbing plot point when I wrote part 11, so this might not technically count as foreshadowing. But still.)

Maedhros himself barely notices any of this. There is a blizzard in his head, consuming him, making him shiver even when he huddles beside the warmest hearths in the castle, numbing him from the inside out.

For the first time in many centuries he longs for sleep, throwing himself nightly towards oblivion – but his nightmares are only getting worse, and there is nobody to soothe him when he wakes, however he might try to summon them.

It's over, Maglor might say, you're in Himring, it's safe; and Fingon would say, I'm here, I love you, I'm here. But memory is a poor substitute for them.

Also it's his fault that Maglor was injured, he only jumped in front of Carcharoth because Maedhros had frozen up, and then Maedhros left him – he might as well have dealt the killing blow himself.

As for Fingon, bold and beloved – did he set out to rescue Maglor for any reason other than that Maedhros loved his brother? Would he have gone were it not for Maedhros' sake?

How very like Maedhros, to love people, and doom them for it.

Neither Maedhros nor Maglor is doing very well in parts 11-14, and one fun parallel between them is that they are both consistently feeling very cold. So the “blizzard” line is part of that whole motif. Otherwise, this passage is interesting mostly because the language of guilt and self-loathing that Maedhros uses with himself has been in place for a while. “How very like Maedhros, to love people, and doom them for it” is definitely a precursor to his yet darker thoughts in the third arc about how his love is a corrupting force, that drags the people he loves into the darkness with him.

Meanwhile, Fingon and Maglor are busy heading through Doriath to the Girdle, although Maglor is struggling against the Oath, which compels him to head back to Menegroth where Thingol has a Silmaril. This is one of the first Fingon & Maglor scenes in tfs, and it's grown into a dynamic I'm very fond of. They're the two people who love Maedhros best, they're narrative foils, and, importantly, they keep each other honest.

“The one Morgoth has doesn’t belong to him either,” says Fingon, “and I don’t see you rushing off to Angband.”

He is NOT pulling any punches with Maglor here. Fingon is often very patient with Maedhros, but even though he's friendly with Maglor he extends rather less grace to him. As Maglor deserves, tbh.

Maglor is shivering a little, even in the light of the Silmaril. He’s lost a lot of blood.

Fingon gives him his cloak.

Maglor being generally ill... also the cloak thing! That was a whole Fingon-saving-people motif; he gives it to Maedhros in part 6, too.

Fingon takes a risk. “He misses you,” he says softly. “He’s been worrying.”

“Then why did he leave me?” Maglor asks, but then he sighs. “I didn’t mean that.”

“You know why.”

“The Oath, the Oath,” Maglor says, a little singsong. “I wonder who we’d be without it. Maybe it does turn you into your worst self, and take the best thing you have left.”

Maglor hating more than anything for Maedhros to leave him... yeah :(

It turns you into the worst version of yourself, and then it strips away the best thing you have left is Maedhros' assessment of the Oath from all the way back in part 1. Maglor is parroting it now, but he still isn't entirely sure he believes that. But he's beginning, after his ordeal in Menegroth, to have some rather serious doubts about the Oath.

Maglor gives him an anguished look. “But better a murderer than failing him again,” he says.

This is one of the stupidest things Fingon has ever heard, and he tells Maglor so. "You don't think he wants you back more than he wants the jewel?"

But here's the catch: Maglor is so so afraid of failing Maedhros! It informs everything he does! It warps his own morality! And he's perfectly aware of this failing in himself, but not yet willing, at this stage in the story, to do anything about his awful guilt complex.

He also drops this rather ominous line:

"You're in the wrong story, Finno," he murmurs. "You can't keep being a hero in a tragedy. That's not how it works."

"Maybe," says Fingon; "or maybe the trick is to change what sort of story you're in."

Maglor thinks of Lúthien, who is dead now, and says nothing.

(Spoiler: it's Fingon who is in the right here, and Maglor who is wrong. You can change the sort of story you're in. Lúthien did it! And she may be dead now, but we the reader know that she is coming back to life sooner or later.)

Back in Himring! Maedhros is still not doing well, and Curufin is pretending not to care while he puts together a not-very-good war plan. (Watsonianly, this war plan is not very good because Curufin is not very good at military strategy. Doylistically, it is not very good because I'm not very good at military strategy.)

The key moment here is when Maedhros figures out that Curufin is lying to him about something:

Maedhros takes the draft from him and then pauses. "What's that on your hand?" he asks.

Damn. Curufin has been so careful—

"Oh, just a burn," he says breezily, "from a campfire while I was cooking some game."

Maedhros seizes his blistered right hand and stares at it.

Silence.

Two Key Characterisation Points about Maedhros here: firstly, that he's incredibly observant, even lost in his haze of grief, and secondly that he has seen Morgoth's Silmaril burns and knows exactly what they mean. He spent so long angsting about whether or not he would be able to touch the Silmaril that he recognises the burn on Curufin's hand for what it is instantly, despite all Curufin's attempts at deflection.

In one swift moment he drops Curufin's hand, draws a knife (he always keeps a knife on him! Why did Curufin forget?) and presses it to Curufin's throat.

(Unintentional) foreshadowing... he does indeed always keep a knife on him... will this potentially have any consequences... But also, importantly, he is unpredictable and often pretty damn violent! Luckily, Curufin manages to talk him down here, by "attempting to mimic Maglor's even, soothing tones" (Maedhros cannot thrive without his favourite little brother ok!).

After this is when Maedhros manages to logic himself into a severe delusional episode.

It's possible that Curufin just can't touch the Silmaril. He behaved atrociously to Lúthien, after all.

But if he's lying about that – and his story definitely included a bit where Thingol personally wrested the Silmaril from Curufin's hands – then what else could he be lying about?

How can Maedhros know that he is Curufin?

A servant of the Enemy wouldn't be able to touch the Silmaril either.

Okay, so maybe the real Curufin was captured on his way back from Doriath.

No. He wouldn't have had access to the Silmaril to be burned by it then.

Maybe Curufin never came to Himring from Nargothrond at all.

Maybe – oh, Manwë and Varda, but it's so plausible – maybe there isn't a Himring.

Don't the stones look artificial somehow, as if there's some small flaw in the illusion that they hold together at all?

The leap in logic here: "Curufin is lying" -> "Curufin clearly isn't actually Curufin" is... pretty wild tbh. But, importantly, Maedhros reasons this all out before coming to his absurdly incorrect conclusion. I think one of Maedhros' key traits, both in canon and especially the way I write him in tfs, is an unshakeable belief that he is Smart and Logical and Always Right. Which often leads to severe consequences, unfortunately.

And Maedhros is in Angband with the Enemy fiddling with his mind – and he will never see either of them again, but they are alive. They are alive.

This is better, really.

We still feel bad for him though because he's so so sad and traumatised :(

[zeroseuniverse]

A New Adventure Awaits

word count: 1,184 genre: Angst, fairytale. Warnings: Death, neglectful parents. Pairing: Heeseung X female peter pan Summary: In which Petra Pan can save the souls of Heeseung and his little brothers, taking them to a land they could only ever dream of

That pesky shadow does not know how to leave anyone alone, Petra grumbled internally, using a bit more pixie dust to boost her into the direction she needed. 

For some reason her shadow was obsessed with this specific boy, always leading Petra back there, and then a sword fight would happen, leaving the boy with a scene that he thinks is a dream. He was 17 he shouldn’t be seeing them for much longer so Petra had no idea why this was happening.

Tonight; However, it seemed different. Upon climbing into the window she spotted her shadow hovering over the boy alongside his brothers all looking pale and cold to the touch. Petra sighed as she took in the scene, she knew the boys were neglected but she had never known it was to this point, the teenager looking the worst, presumably from giving his food to his brothers.

Her shadow was cowering away from the scene sadly, it had been trying to warn Petra. “It’s okay, they can come home with us now okay?” Petra cooed to her shadow, the two had been battling for centuries at this point but after her shadow aided her against her battle with captain hook to save her fairy the two decided to team up for good, “We will care for them like they deserve.” and with that the shadow nodded, allowing Petra to sprinkle pixie dust over the three and placing the smallest two in one arm as she simply held the teenager's hand. This process never got easier, And with that thought the five headed back to their land, the land people only heard stories about.

As they entered the land, her shadow eagerly waved to the small boys that were running around and playing. “Petra!!!”  The boys yelled excitedly as they saw her fly overhead to the waterfall that would help them, she of course didn’t take their actual bodies, but their souls that had been stripped after their passing were all hardly hanging on, in so much pain from their awful childhoods.

Mending their souls would be hard, the water from the waterfall held magical healing properties that would do most of the job but the mental pain that they held would be permanent, only able to be fixed with effort from all parties involved.

Her shadow anxiously paced by the boys, Petra had gone to get food and regular water for the three boys hoping to coax them into trusting them. The oldest was familiar with Petra but he still thought she was but a figment of his imagination. 

The sound of a sharp gasp knocked her shadow out of her pacing, quickly turning to the source and spotting the two little boys peering up at the black mass curiously.

Since the shadow couldn’t talk, the black mass looked up to try and find her counterpart who was thankfully on her way back, an abundance of little boys following her. The small boys on the ground looked up in awe at the scene, Petra descended down to the ground with a gentle smile.

“Ni-Ki, Jungwon, lovely to see you two again. We never officially met, I was always trying to chase the shadow away but I’m Petra, would you like some food?” She introduced, offering the berries and bread to the children who giddily grabbed it. Ready to get the nutrients they needed. As soon as they were half way through their meal, under the careful eyes of Petra, another gasp broke through the air.

“Where am I?” Heeseung panicked, flinching when his brother placed a hand on his shoulder. “Jungwon, Ni-Ki!” he exclaimed, reaching for the two only to get nudged back by the shadow, “What the-”

“Allow them to eat, it’s been a while since they’ve gotten enough nutrients.” Petra explained, passing a bowl of food to the teenager who looked at her oddly, “Don’t worry everything here is safe, I will make sure my boys are taken care of.”

He eyed her face a bit more, glancing at the shadow as well before realization snapped into place, “You’re the lady who saves me from the shadows!” He perked up but looked confused as to why the two stood together like they were friends.

“I used to try to keep her in check, that’s why we would fight in your room. She was trying to tell me about your home situation, but I really couldn’t help much until you entered the spirit realm,” The ginger haired woman explained, before looking over to the boys near her, “This is Jay, Sunghoon, Jake, Kai, Beomgyu, Jeongin and Jongho.” She introduced pointing to each boy so he could match a face to the name.

“Where’s Sunoo, Petra?” Sunghoon wondered, his eyes wide as he tried looking around for the fairy..

“Pouting because I didn’t have the time to see his new trick.” Petra giggled a bit, looking to the side as the glowing ball approached the group.

The chimes filled the air as the fairy yelled his complaints at the lack of attention, the three newcomers watching  in awe. “Sunoo, don’t be rude, we have guests.”

Soon the three boys were as lively as ever, falling into the dynamics of the group perfectly.

It took about a month in Never land which unfortunately is only a few days in the real world, so as Petra was getting ready to go on her next trip to the regular world, Heeseung jumped at the opportunity, asking to join her.

“Why?”

“I need to see if they care.” was all he said before Petra sprinkled the pixie dust over the two and intertwined their fingers.

 “You might not like what you find.”

“That’s okay.”

And with that the two took off to the mainland, straight to his old home, peering at the elderly couple who seemed to be getting ready for a party. The woman dressed in a fancy dress with heels and gold jewelry while the man stood in front of the mirror tugging his tie just right. “Funeral?” Heeseung questioned Petra who shook her head sadly, pointing over to the envelope sticking out of the woman’s purse.

“I want to go home.” He blurted, making the girl beside him sigh sadly. 

“Okay, but you really can’t interact with the real world as the spirit you are. I’ll look after your brothers if you wish to stay.” She said, getting up to leave only for a hand to latch around her wrist.

“No, I want to go home with you. This never felt like a home, Neverland is home. I want to help you care for all of the lost boys, and fight stupid looking pirates, and annoy Sunoo when you give me attention.” Heeseung clarified, Petra could hardly hide her glee. Bouncing slightly on her heels as she moved to grasp his hand once again in her own.

“We have to go pick up another kid. Soobin. He passed an hour ago, but his soul is still lively.” She explained, tugging the boy with her.

“Well, I guess a new adventure awaits us then.

[kalpasio]

An Engineer's Dream

Job of Your Dreams

A Kalpas x Reader angst fic, chapter 2 below!

Oddly enough, you didn’t get into any trouble. In fact, none of the Grey Serpents even glanced your way. The only interaction you had was when you turned in your latest project, and then he was gone. You were certainly suspicious at this point, and rightly so. Your next project was simple, yet you were given a deadline three times longer than you’d need. Maybe the reason you’d been allowed to stay out was because they wanted you to repair the hall you’d found.

Knowing you were being used like that had you on guard, but if you got to keep using that gorgeous workshop, you weren’t going to say anything. By midafternoon, you were free to go back to your hiding spot, and by dinner time you had lights on, and some of the terminals functioning. You still had quite aways to go, but from here on out, it seemed the issues were less due to hardware and more due to everything being wiped from the computers.

The next day, you didn’t even bother showing up to work, you went straight to the secret hall. After a minute or two, you realized that nearly every single file in the system had been corrupted. While you had the ability to fix the problem, the process was in no way pleasant, and you found your reflection in one of the still-black screens grimacing back at you.

The day came and went, and the only progress you’d made was in repairing the terminals default screen so it now read ‘Fire Moth,’ and increasing your chances of carpal tunnel. A night’s rest, and the next day went much the same. It wasn’t until a week later, you finally got something promising, or at least you thought.

A new program, named APONIA, appeared and an hour later you were receiving data from it. But where you were expecting a file full of more things to decode, there was only a chat box that popped up. When you tried to close it, it opened back up immediately, so you simply ignored it and went back to work. A few minutes later, you looked over to see new lines had been added. Some of the words or letters were missing, but for the most part you could make out the meaning.

“Please,” was all the first line read. Then, “Rest your hands for a moment. I’ve seen the work they’ve done; fighting and building, destroying and creating. Take this time to relax a bit. We will still be here when you are ready.”

Seeing the words made your brows furrow. First of all, it sounded ore like a person than a program, and second of all, how did it know who it was talking to? Reading over the lines you sighed. Really, they could be referring to anyone, not just you. Sure, you built and fought with your hands, but couldn’t the same be said about a doctor fighting death, or a child destroying a block tower? It didn’t matter, you supposed, and went back to work.

“You are always so stubborn, rushing to get things done and never recognizing the joys around you at this moment.” The window moved to cover the piece of code you’d been working on. “Please,” again that one word was on a line alone. “Take a break.” At the strange chat box’s insistence, you removed your hands from the keyboard.

Stretching them above your head, you let out a content groan, then stood and stretched your legs as well. Maybe you did need a break. Checking the time, you noticed the lunch hall would be closing soon and you’d been working for four hours straight. Grabbing food would give you a chance to move around a bit, and you could come right back and resume your work while you ate.

Nodding to yourself, you put your plan in action and executed the first half flawlessly. The second half, not so much. When you returned and placed your food on the table nearby, the screen looked the same as it had when you left. As soon as you sat down, however, the APONIA chat box took over the entire screen, blocking your attempts to get work done. Huffing, you started eating your food while attempting to end the program with one hand. Your entire lunch was spent like this until all your food was gone and you gave up.

“Fine!” you shouted at the screen like it could hear you. “You win! Gah, now I understand why no one came down here.” Marching over to the junction box you’d replaced, you were about to turn off the power when the screen previously covered by the chat box returned to the files you’d been cleaning up. Cautiously, you walked back over, almost worried the window would change again if you moved too quickly.

APONIA still sat on the side of your screen, cursor blinking, waiting for you to type a message, but otherwise it didn’t move. It stayed like that until it was time for dinner when you got another polite, yet demanding, reminder to eat. Another popped up when curfew was approaching, and you were too tired to argue this time, readily leaving the ‘Fire Moth room’ as you were calling it now, and turning in for the night.

In the morning, APONIA was the first thing to greet you—literally, asking how you slept the previous night. On a whim, you typed a response into the box, only to receive another line right after. “Please, make sure you sleep well, this cursed place is not worth your well-being.” Well. That was certainly ominous.

APONIA was easily the most frustrating program you’d ever worked with. If you went too long without a break, it would stop you, if you missed a meal, it would stop you, if you stayed up too late, it would stop you. It was annoying, but you figured that whoever worked down here before you had a bad habit of neglecting themselves and made this program to help. Everyday you would get messages that felt like you were talking to another person, and the files within the APONIA project folder had names that sounded out of place.

There was only one image file in a format you’d never seen before, and the files you could understand made it seem like APONIA almost had a personality and a life’s worth of memories. The folder itself was also extremely large, holding hundreds of terabytes of data. A few other projects on the terminal were roughly the same size, but it was another week before you fixed a second one.

When you made your breakthrough, you nearly cheered, but in the next moment you were concerned. The APONIA chat window popped up again and you saw a message that sounded like it was congratulating you. Then a second chat box opened over the first, this program’s title being KALPAS.

“I’m so glad to see you again, Kalpas,” the first window read. Almost instantly the second window responded.

“Aponia.” There was a pause, but the moment your fingers touched the keyboard, the KALPAS box flooded with messages, the gist of which seemed to be that this program wanted the APONIA program gone. APONIA didn’t acknowledge this and instead seemed to speak to you.

“Don’t mind him, Kalpas truly means well. For his sake, however, I think I should leave you be while he adjusts.” For the first time since starting the program, the APONIA dialogue box left your screen. It was still running in the background, but you had no way of telling what it was doing.

“Where the hell am I.” The KALPAS window was finally done running lines up your screen and sent a new message. It very well may have been directed to the other program, but since you were the only one able to respond right now, you did.

“Terminal FM-1024 in the World Serpent base,” you typed back.

“Get me the fuck out,” was the response. Not that it made you any less confused. For a few seconds, you stared at the screen, unsure what to even ask for clarification. What the hell kind of program was this, and what did it mean ‘out’? On a monitor you weren’t using, out of the corner of your eye, you saw a third program start up, this one titled VILL-V. Several dialogue boxes popped up and closed before you could read them, making you worry there may be some type of virus you’d accidentally accessed.

After ten seconds of rapid flashing, the VILL-V program closed itself, and a holo-projector on the far side of the room turned on. It was clearly damaged, the image it created was flickering like no other, but you were still able to make out the basic shape. What vaguely looked like an unreasonably tall man took a determined step towards you, only for half of his leg to disappear mid-step. Quickly he moved back and crossed his arms over his chest. The hologram was so blurry, you couldn’t make out his face, but new messages appeared in the KALPAS box.

“Well?” you read, “Are you going to do your job?” Obviously, you were only reading, and there was no way for you to make out the tone behind the words, but you read them with a sneer that had you pissed.

“Not if you’re gonna treat me like that,” you mumbled to yourself. Moving from your chair, you walked over to the corner where the projection stood, somehow managing to look impatient. Standing outside its range, you looked at the hologram from a couple of angles while its gaze followed you.

“Obviously there’s some damage to the unit, but I’ve never seen something like this. Our matter-projectors are much different, so unless you’ve got a manual, this might take a while to fix.” You spoke out loud, but certainly weren’t expecting a response. Yet, the image in front of you huffed, the fuzzy outline becoming even worse for a moment. “Can you hear me?” That would be new, a hologram that listens. After a moment with no response, you relaxed, feeling slightly better.

“I’ll take that as a no—” The projection shook its head and pointed angrily towards the terminal. Rolling your eyes, you walked back over to see there were new messages.

“You’re the mechanic. why the hell would I have the manual.” The next line simply said, “Yes.” Followed by “I just said-! Go look!”

“You can hear me, but not speak yourself…you wouldn’t happen to know sign, would you?” You joked, there’s no way you’d be able to make out anything with how fuzzy the image was, but still there was a flat ‘No.’ in response to your question. “Cool. So. I have no clue what kind of weird shit Grey Serpent is trying to do down here, or what kind of program you are,” you saw words appear on the screen, but chose to ignore them. “And I doubt anything good will come of this, but I’m gonna try to repair your projector so it doesn’t feel like I’m having a seizure every time I look at you.”

“I’m not a program. I’m a sim,” you finally read the new messages.

“That’s nice,” you hummed, then sat in front of the computer trying to find any information on the projector. Around six seconds in, and the VILL-V program opened again, finding the repair manual as well as schematics for the room you were currently in. Just as before, VILL-V was gone right after, but you had everything you needed now.

It appeared as though there were dozens of projectors, even some under the large table nearby. Each one had a specific area it was responsible for, and there were some areas that had a supplemental projector for in between two main ones. In total, there were thirty-two hologram units, and only one was partially operation, the rest were busted. On the bright side, this meant you had plenty of chances to use the workshop nearby.

Getting to work, you grabbed some tools, came back downstairs, and promptly took down one of the projectors. It was well hidden in the wall, but once you found it, you had no problems getting it out and bringing it back to the shop. Before you left, you checked to see the blurry image in the corner had sent you any messages, but there was nothing new, so you headed up.

Technologically speaking, the holograms were a marvel. Somehow, they projected a tangible 3D image, while also being able to make it seem like any sound was coming from the image. It was similar to the holographic training rooms which used matter projectors to simulate Honkai beasts, but these simulations were much more lifelike, all the way down to generating body heat.

Even using the manual VILL-V had pulled up, it took you four days to complete the first projector. Each day, the blurry hologram would be waiting for you, a message already present on the terminal, complaining about how long it was taking you to fix anything. Part of you wanted to take longer out of spite, but you were too eager to see the final project to hold out.

Last night you had finished the repairs, so today you were going to return the projector to its housing and do your first test run to see if it worked. Kalpas’ greeting this morning was simply a fuzzy scowl you could hardly make out, but he seemed to be playing nice for now. Quickly grabbing the tools you needed, you set about reinstalling the unit, the whole process taking less than ten minutes.

Standing squarely in the middle of the area this projector covered, was a decidedly not blurry Kalpas. The scowl you’d seen that morning was actually a brown and orange mask that covered his face, coupled with his—unreasonably built—arms crossed over his—also very large—chest. This man was a good foot taller than you, and for a moment you wondered if the calibration for the hologram was off. When the room grew hot, you were certain something was wrong, except the next second there were flickers of fire surrounding him.

“Took you long enough,” His voice was deep, and he spoke slowly, sounding more bored than angry.

“Glad I fixed your ability to speak just for you to insult me,” you rolled your eyes. “Does everything feel normal at least?”

“No.”

Waiting for Kalpas to elaborate, you raised an eyebrow before prompting him, “Care to tell me what’s wrong?”

Raising his fist to eye level, Kalpas flexed it for a moment before releasing the tension and letting the hand drop to his side. Slowly, his gaze moved to meet your own through his mask, but he still didn’t give you an answer.

“Great. Well, when you figure that out, you let me know.” Done with this sorry excuse for a conversation, you cleaned up your tools and moved to take the next projector down and carry it to the workshop. Kalpas’ eyes followed your movements, but he didn’t attempt to follow you at all.

With that out of the way, you came back down to sit by the terminal. A friend, Varsha, had written a program for you that would help clean up the corruption within the files. It would take time, and some points would still need you to look them over, but at least you would have slightly less to worry about. Now that you knew what you were doing, repairing the projectors took much less time. That night when you left, the second one was already half-way done, and Varsha’s code was running smoothly.

“Good night!” you waved to Kalpas, who gave the same scowl he’d given you that morning, and then you were gone.

I should really learn how to put linebreaks in tumblr. I'm just lazy and I know they turn out funny on mobile (because I read too much on here)

[pitviperofdoom]

(CW: animal death and injury)

It wasn’t the end of the world. Maybe if this place was my livelihood I’d start panicking or packing up, but it’s not. I’m a vet, I own my own home, and I’m not hurting if my vegetables get looted. The garden’s a hobby at best, and yeah, maybe it was Grandma’s pride and joy, but I warned her I killed my mom's geraniums when she told me she was leaving me the house, so it’s not like she has room for disappointment.

If anything, the rabbits are lucky they picked my land to figure out civilization on, because I’m pretty sure my neighbor Carl would be dropping dynamite down the burrows in my shoes.

I won’t lie, I came close. Monster Truck got out while I wasn’t looking, and when he came hobbling home with a goddamn spearhead embedded in his leg, I was about ready to rain my own personal Iliad down on the little bastards. Lucky for them, treating arrow wounds on my cat gave me enough time to calm down and think. I figure it was self defense. I don’t like letting my cats outside off-harness anyway, and I would’ve been plenty upset if he’d come home with a dead bunny in his mouth.

It wasn’t so bad besides that. Was I a little miffed that they figured out metalworking before they figured out agriculture? Yeah, kind of. But you know, I always grew way more zucchinis and tomatoes than I knew what to do with anyway, and they were fun to watch. They had warriors on patrol pretty regularly, and once in a while one of them would stop at the sliding glass door and look in on me while I was cleaning or making dinner or whatever. Sometimes they’d leave little clay tablets out there, and I couldn’t read their writing so I don’t know if they were trying to communicate or ward me off, but either way I ended up with a nice little collection of bunny cuneiform (buneiform?) so there's that. Hell, one time the kittens were out and about in the evening, and I swear to god it looked like they were playing Sardines. Cutest thing I've ever seen.

So we left each other alone. I made sure the cats didn’t get out again, and they stamped and ran down the burrows if I got too close.

About a month after Monster got speared, I started noticing more changes. They’d eased off raiding the garden, and I decided to try replanting my romaine lettuce. They’d decimated my last crop, but hey, hope springs eternal, right?

Sure enough, I was wrist-deep in fertilizer when I spotted three of them creeping out of the bushes. At first I thought they were going for my pumpkins while they were still tiny on the vine, and I was ready to put up a fight, tiny polearms notwithstanding. But instead they just… watched me. All bright eyes and twitchy little noses, looking at me while I got manure under my nails.

I don’t know why I did it. Maybe it was the same instinct that makes you want to throw bread crumbs at pigeons, just to watch them run around and eat.

I watched them watch me, opening up seed packets, digging holes, planting. And then I took the last packet, opened it, and tossed it to them.

One of them stamped and bolted. Another made a fake lunge with its spear and barked something, before the third one stopped it, picked up the seed packet, and pointed at me. I went through the rest of the process, planting and watering and mixing in the Miracle-Gro, and by the time I was done the rabbits were gone.

There was a clear patch of dug-up soil just off the warren the next day. I left them some fertilizer and Miracle-Gro, just to be nice.

And then, when the lettuce started growing in my garden and theirs, something new happened. I went outside one morning, and there was a little grass basket between my garden and the edge of the warren, full of fur. Not like pelts or anything, like shed rabbit fur. It was fall, so I guess they’d just molted.

And at first I was like, what the hell am I supposed to do with this? But then the next day there’s three rabbits sitting at the edge of my garden, they’ve all got baskets of fur, and they’re spinning it into thread. There’s a spindle sitting in the lettuce patch—it’s at least three times the size of the one they’re using, so they must have made a big one just for me—and they’re all watching me and spinning and squeaking to each other. Probably gossiping.

It took me hours to figure it out, and I ended up having to Google how to hand-spin. I know they were laughing at me.

The thing about living somewhere rural is, you get to know your neighbors. And let me tell you, at that point those rabbits were better neighbors than fucking Carl. Of course, Carl set the bar in Hell, but still.

I figured that was the end of it. A peace offering for a peace offering. They still snuck things out of my garden sometimes, but more often than not it was so they could add it to theirs. They watched me whenever I was out there, copying what I planted when and where, how often I watered it, stuff like that. They even figured out how to use my slug repellent without, I dunno, eating it and dying or something.

But there was more to come.

At the end of February, I got home after an emergency shift at the clinic ran late. I wasn’t in a great mood; some family’s outdoor cat had been attacked by a coyote, there was nothing we could do but our best and our best wasn’t enough, and I was torn between just feeling sad for the cat and for the kids, and wanting to shake the parents til their teeth rattled because this is what happens when you don’t keep your goddamn pets inside—

Anyway. All I wanted to do was curl up with Monster Truck and Blackberry and sleep until noon. Instead I got woken up by tapping at my window at three a.m.

There’s a ledge on the outside, where I sometimes leave out seeds and stuff for the birds. When I woke up, there was a little bunny sitting on it, staring at me and knocking. When I turned the light on, it stamped at me and hopped down. It did that twice more before I finally dragged myself out of bed and went outside.

It was waiting for me at the back door, and instead of bolting when I stepped out, it was hopping around my ankles and tugged at my pant leg until I followed it to the bushes. There were three more rabbits hiding in there. Two of them instantly had bows trained on me, but the third was curled up, nose and eyes running, wheezing like it was suffocating. The first rabbit barked something, and once the bows were put away, it started tugging at me and pointing at the sick one.

Well, shit.

“Snuffles” is a really cute name for an illness, and it’s easy to treat if you catch it early. I was not catching it early in this rabbit.

It was a bad night. I ‘d just woken up from dreaming about Monster Truck getting mauled by coyotes. I didn’t even know if I should step in, because vegetable seeds are one thing but they’re bunny-millennia away from cracking germ theory and antibiotics, and I don’t know if I’d be violating some kind of Prime Directive if I gave it to them now, but you know what? Fuck it. I just had to tell two grade school girls that I couldn't help their cat, and I wasn’t about to tell Flopsy, Mopsy, and Cottontail that I wasn’t even gonna try.

So yeah, I scooped up that wheezy, weepy little rabbit and drove her back to the clinic.

I ended up having to keep her for a little while, because she was in bad shape, and a full course of antibiotics doesn’t happen overnight. She became the darling of the vet techs while she was there, especially after she started feeling better and I brought her a spindle and some leftover fluff to pass the time. I also brought her some clay so she could write notes home that she was okay and to please not riddle me with arrows when I came home without her.

Eventually I brought her home good as new, stood back and watched the happy reunion, and left it at that. I wasn’t expecting them to throw me a party or anything; the thing about being a vet is that your patients don’t always thank you for it, and that’s fine. Things were quiet after that.

And then July 4th rolled around, and fucking Carl carted out the illegal fireworks again.

I swear, everyone who lives around here hates this time of year because of him. Most of us have animals, some of us moved out here for the peace and quiet, and none of us appreciate him setting off amateur explosives when we’re surrounded by trees and dry grass in July.

Last year the rabbits holed up underground and didn’t come out all night, but this year—I dunno. I just wish I knew enough buneiform to tell them the world isn’t ending, it’s just the asshole neighbor unleashing his inner pyromaniac.

Turned out it wasn’t the rabbits I needed to worry about.. 

I just opened the door for a second, just to empty out the compost container. I didn’t see Blackberry creeping up behind me before another explosion went off, and she was out the door and bolting into the night before I could stop her.

I swear I screamed so loud I must have spooked Carl, because he didn’t set off another one for a full ten minutes.

Blackberry isn’t like Monster. Monster was one of those pain-in-the-ass tomcats that got in fights and caterwauled late at night and filled the neighborhood with kittens before I finally caught him, fixed him, and taught him some manners. Monster can take care of himself, and if he can't, he's strong enough to cut and run.

But Blackberry’s my baby. She won’t go after mice or spiders, she lets Monster walk all over her, and she hides at the first sign of trouble. I know she only ran outside because it happened to be the direction she was facing, because she never wants to go out unless I’m with her. The last outdoor cat I’d seen at that point was the one that died on the operating table.

I was out all night that night, either looking for my cat or screaming at Carl to quit setting off fireworks so I could find her. He finally stopped around midnight, but it didn’t make finding Blackberry any easier. I didn’t give up until almost four in the morning, and by then I was exhausted, in tears, and ready to wring Carl’s neck. I went home and slept.

The next morning I went out again, with a stack of bowls, a liter of water, and some of my dirty clothes. I set up little stations for her, clothes with my smell along with water bowls, and remembered where they were so I could check for her throughout the day. I set them away from the warren, but I remembered what happened to Monster and kept checking back around the burrows, just in case.

It was nearly noon when I heard it.

Off in the distance, on public land to the west of my house, I could hear animals screaming. A lot of people don’t realize how close coyotes come to sounding like screaming babies, and the sound was unnerving enough on its own. In seconds, the screaming became snarling, and I was already running.

A rabbit met me halfway. I could tell he’d been looking for me, because as soon as he saw me, he turned right around and led me the rest of the way.

I’ve seen plenty of nasty stuff in my line of work, parasites and injuries and more than my share of vomit. It’s still easy to get squeamish when it’s animals you know.

Blackberry was at the foot of a tree. From the looks of it, she’d tried to climb it but got caught by the leg and dragged back down. Her leg was shredded, and she wasn’t moving much besides breathing.

There were six rabbits between her and the coyote, and of all the animals in that scene, you’ll never guess which one was the dead one. They’d fought the thing with swords, for Chrissake.

One of the rabbits was on the ground, even bloodier than Blackberry, and a second one picked him up and carried him over to me. I recognized both—she was the doe I’d nursed through snuffles, and the injured buck was the one who’d led me to her. I’d been calling him Cottontail in my head.

I wish I could say I didn't break down sobbing in front of a bunch of rabbits, but it is what it is.

I checked the coyote before we left. Cottontail was the only one with a bow and arrows on him; plucky little bastard got a couple right in its eye. I swear, when I picked him and Blackberry up to carry them out of there, he was grinning.

They’re okay now. Blackberry’s miserable with a fully bandaged leg and a cone of shame, but she’s on the mend and Monster’s been real sweet with her. I just let Cottontail back out into the yard—unlike Blackberry, I’m gonna trust him to know not to rip his stitches, and he better not disappoint me.

I picked up some alfalfa seeds on the way home. I figure I might as well try growing it, now that we’re working out a sort of trade system. Rabbit wool’s soft as hell, and they’re better at spinning it than I am anyway.

So help me God, if Carl fucks with these rabbits, his ass is grass.

“Hey, so… you know that trouble I was having with that rabbit warren? Well, it turns out they’ve developed into a bronze age society, and I just don’t have what it takes to remove them now.”

[lady-snow-flower]

A Weekend At the Hauntley Inn || Part Two: Saturday

Part One Here

Saturday 

After a fruitless night of tossing and turning, Snow finally rolled over and climbed out of bed as dawn fell over the Hauntley. She went ahead and opened the curtains downstairs and brewed some fresh coffee for their mortal guests. She sipped on a cup herself, nibbling on a leftover apple cinnamon bar from the night before. She was not alone for long. Soon, a few guests trickled down and she fetched them coffee, tea, juice, and breakfast.

John came down an hour or so later, the breakfast in full swing. He caught her eye and Snow approached him with her customer service smile. 

“You wouldn’t happen to have cranberry juice, would you?” he asked. 

“We do,” Snow said, and she turned to fetch it for him, but he lifted a hand to stop her.

“Just one moment– you’ve lived here a while now, eh?” His fuzzy eyebrows quirked up. He was wearing reading glasses. Had he had those before? Snow couldn’t remember, but then, she’d never sat with John at breakfast. They’d only conducted lessons after dusk, in his soiled, one-bedroom flat, or in the graveyards around Dublin. “I want to pick up a souvenir here for Niamh – any ideas?” 

“Niamh?” Snow echoed.

John half-smiled. “Ah. Right. My daughter,” he told her. “She’s a teenager now. Bloody knows I’ve no idea what you get a teenage girl.” 

Snow blinked again, one hand moving to fiddle with the small gold chain on her own wrist. “Oh. Oh, well– right, um– is she– does she also do magic?”

John’s smirk widened. “Aye. Not our kind of magic, of course.” 

“Of course,” Snow repeated quickly, a smile twitching onto her face, then twitching away again. The dining room felt smaller all at once, as if they were the only two in the room. But that was the power of secrets. They brought you closer, even when you didn’t want to be.

“Right, well– there are a few sorcerer shops here. You could head down to the Rock Shoppe. They’ve got all kinds of stones and gems and charms. They’re perfect for a young apprentice’s casting desk. And then, if she’s not as crazy about all that, well, there’s the new boutique in town… it’s a bit expensive but you could find something there, a hair accessory or jewelry. But I think the Rock Shoppe captures what makes Swynlake so unique.”

“Aye, so it does,” echoed John, chuckling. “Thank you. I’ll poke around then, eh?” 

He glanced back down to the book he’d brought to the table, signaling the interaction over. The room expanded. Snow was just an innkeeper again. She let out a breath, then went back to the kitchen to pour his juice. 

She found Wolf there, looking pale and tired– her mirror in that way, though the full moon was tonight so he was always bound to be restless. She frowned a little, already feeling guilty asking but…

“Do you mind… John’s planning to go out into town. Will you just…monitor him?” 

Wolf nodded, grunting as he took a plate full of eggs and sausage, and squirreled it away to eat it alone. As soon as the door swung on his way out, Snow regretted it– and wanted to call him back and tell him nevermind. Following John was wrong. It felt like a crime. Was it a crime? 

And after all he had asked for was a trinket for his little girl? 

She shook her head. What was done was done. Now, it was time to work. 

-

Wolf found her that afternoon in the library, even twitchier than before. Only a few hours now and the sun and moon would switch places, and Wolf would have to disappear. 

She didn’t like that; she wanted him here, with her. 

But then as Wolf recounted John’s whereabouts– he’d gone to the rock shoppe, the boutique store, had lunch at Chippamunka’s, then walked around the Pride University campus– she felt stupid instead. What was she doing? He was just a guest. 

“Thank you Wolf,” she said. “Don’t worry about tonight– Gregoria will watch the grounds. And it looks like John really is just here on an October holiday. I’m sure we’ll be fine.” 

[scriveyner]

always summer #20

always summer #20: fireworks | bungou stray dogs |👿🐯 | #kinktober 🔞| ~1100 words

Dazai was perched on the metal guardrail, watching the sea of pedestrian traffic flowing between the park attractions. It was dusk already, and this stretch of the arcade was lit by strands of bare-bulb lights strung between vendor stalls, interspersed with colorful, if faded, pennant flags. The lights on the attractions moved in patterns, under which people clustered for chances to win cheap prizes by knocking over milk cans or popping balloons with darts.

Continue on ao3 or:

Chuuya was a dark figure weaving efficiently through the ever-moving throng of people; he emerged near Dazai carting two covered boxes, a plastic garbage-bag-sized bag of popcorn under his arm, and enormous drinks in his other hand. To his credit, he was managing all of this food without the telltale red glimmer of his ability at work, and Dazai could only be a little impressed at the fact that he was holding both enormous cups in the same hand by their bottoms.

“What’s all this?” Dazai asked as he was handed a box, hot with food inside and the bottom wet with grease.

Chuuya looked around. “Huh, did we lose Atsushi and Akutagawa?”

“They’ve been gone a while now, just like you. Atsushi-kun was hungry, and Akutagawa-kun clearly loves indulging him.�� Dazai plucked a perfectly deep-fried piece of food out of a sea of soggy fries. “What is this?”

“Dunno. Chicken, hopefully. They were deep-frying everything in sight, so there’s no telling.”

Dazai bit into it without further inspection and made no noise of distress, so it was at least edible. Chuuya leaned the closed plastic bag of popcorn against the rail before he opened his own box of food. “Glad I didn’t bother to haul food over for them too, then,” he said, and Dazai nodded his head, absently people-watching. “The burger prices here are obscene, they must be making money hand over fist. We oughta get in on it.”

“Opening a food truck in a heavily tourist-infested area and price-gouging?” Dazai chewed on a fry. “Retirement plans are for people who aren’t planning on killing themselves when they finally convince the love of their life to join them in the sweet abyss.”

“Remind me to take you off the liability insurance.”

Dazai smirked to himself and continued to eat fries, still watching the crowds of people and looking to pick out a familiar pair but not seeing them yet. “Hey, how many cheeseburgers do you think Atsushi can eat?”

Chuuya tilted his head back, elbows hooked over the rail. “Total, or in one sitting?”

“I don’t think there’s a number high enough to gauge the first.”

“Point. Counterpoint,” Chuuya pointed at Dazai with a fry, who then leaned over and took it from Chuuya’s fingers with his mouth. “How much money you got, because I’m pretty sure it would bankrupt the Port Mafia.”

They both laughed, the noise lost under the clamor of the amusement park.

~*~

The promenade was the place to be, filling up quickly with people all lining up for the best positions to watch the show. They were far enough away from the wide, paved paths around the lake the amusement park sat on that the risk of discovery was minimal, but all the same Atsushi kept a nervous eye out for movement. “If you were so worried about being caught,” Akutagawa said breathlessly, leg hiked over Atsushi’s hip and shoulders pressed to the bark of the large old tree, “you wouldn’t have initiated.”

“I wasn’t thinking about that,” Atsushi said distractedly, hands shifting back to Akutagawa’s hips, holding him tight and keeping him pressed back into the tree. “I wasn’t thinking at all, really, I just really, really wanted to kiss you.”

Akutagawa wet his lips and groaned softly; his hand curled in Atsushi’s shirt. “You’ve done more than just kiss me,” he grunted, but he wasn’t chastising, just stating a fact that he was clearly, clearly enjoying. He grunted again and let out a soft little groan as Atsushi changed his stance, which changed the way his cock was pressed into Akutagawa’s walls.

“It’s not my fault you looked so cute coming off that roller coaster,” Atsushi was panting now, bouncing Akutagawa slightly on his dick, half grinding and half thrusting. “Your hair was all silly and you were smiling, what was I supposed to do?”

“You were supposed to kiss me, ah,” Akutagawa’s legs tightened on his sides. “There.”

 “There?” Atsushi found the spot again and honed in on it, and they were lost in each other, shortened breaths and soft moans shared between them. Akutagawa’s mouth stayed open as he panted, hand tight on the back of Atsushi’s neck, and Atsushi’s eyes were locked on his, so close, so close—

In the distance, they both could hear the roar of the crowds and, a split second later, thunder in the night as the fireworks show began in earnest. The brilliant colors lit them up even hidden as they were in the tight cluster of trees, golds and reds and greens dappling Akutagawa’s skin; and he laughed, catching Atsushi’s shirt in both hands and pulling him into a kiss as they rocked together.

“Come on,” Akutagawa moaned against his mouth and Atsushi shifted his grip, one arm now braced against the tree, Akutagawa pressed nearly double as he slammed in again and again, until Akutagawa was sobbing his name, fingers crooked into claws and digging into Atsushi’s skin through his shirt.

Atsushi’s breath was harsh against Akutagawa’s ear, “Ryuunosuke, Ryuuno—ah, fuck…”

Akutagawa shuddered, Atsushi throbbing inside; all the tension built up and released. He could feel his heartbeat so fast, their chests nearly together; finally, Atsushi exhaled low and long.

“Sorry,” he managed, panting hoarsely into Akutagawa’s ear, the flush on his skin drowned out by the faint echoes of color bursting from the sky above. “I didn’t pull out.”

Akutagawa’s fingers tightened on the back of his skull for just a moment before releasing, his heart beating nearly as fast. “You must take responsibility for cleanup then,” he said, finally, and Atsushi laughed, nuzzling his face and kissing him again before pulling out with a wet noise.

“I can handle that,” he said, going smoothly to his knees in front of the wobbly-legged Akutagawa. He let Akutagawa support himself with a leg thrown over his shoulders, and Akutagawa twisted both his hands in Atsushi’s hair as he slid his fingers through his own mess before beginning to clean him.

Akutagawa watched the fireworks through the trees, as the show finally drew to a dramatic finale. “They’ll be looking for us,” he said idly, shuddering as Atsushi’s fingers thrust in deep, then his breath slid over Akutagawa’s sensitive dick.

“Let them look, I’m not done here.”