#as a kid whenever i thought something was unfair i would argue my little case about it with you know. genuine 7yr old logic and conviction

[wizardnuke]

i really do think id be a good lawyer. tragic for me.

[originalwinnercheesecake]

Chain of Iron theories: the adopted baby

Here is another hot discussion topic in the fandom. CC has hinted that their will be a special baby, and that they will need to be adopted. So Questions, who is giving a baby up and why? I am assuming that this is a Shadowhunter baby. I cannot see either Hypatia Vex or Kellington who party, operate a secret saloon, and take pleasure in seducing interesting artistic individuals deciding to devote themselves to parenthood. Woosley Scott is set to show up, but their is no way he wants to adopt. Every other downworlder has appeared in the future and never made reference to having raised a baby. So which shadowhunters in this series of so many parents, children, and would be couples are looking to adopt? We know that shadowhunters adoption program isn’t perfect; Ariadne being adopted by an elderly white couple who know nothing about Indian culture and Tatiana somehow being allowed to adopt Grace despite the fact that she is aggressive, clearly insane, and famously unable to care for the one child she gave birth to. But I want to hold on to hope that whoever this little baby is their story will end happily with being given a nice home and family. My Theories

Anna and Ariadne  adopt Eugenia’s baby. (retracted)

  This was my original theory. In COG2 we learnt that Eugenia temporarily left home because of some scandal no one really wants to talk about. It apparently involved her and some guy being caught in a “compromising position” after which said guy could have saved things by asking to marry her but did not? ??? This led many people to believe she and this guy had been immanent and that she might now be pregnant., but unable to raise the baby on her own. So she would give it up for adoption. Eugenia’s older sister Barbara had an understanding with a very nice gentleman named Oliver and kept trying to get Oliver to purpose. I wondered if maybe a reason Barbara was in such a rush to marry is she was hoping for her and Oliver to adopt Eugenia’s baby and pass them off as theirs. Now that both Barbara and Oliver are sadly deceased Eugenia would need to look into finding new  parents to take he unborn child. Well spoilers relating to Eugenia state that despite having different interests and hobbies, she and Anna get along well. She also is set to become friends with Ariadne. Ariadne who really wanted to be a mom. So I thought that if Eugenia was pregnant and looking to give her child up for adoption then maybe she would ask Anna and Ariadne to adopt her baby. That had the potential to be sweet.

  But we have gotten more information now, and surprise surprise, people jumped the gun to quick on what happened with Eugenia. While we still do not know what the scandal was, it is hinted to have been way less extreme/serious than premarital intimacy, and she is very unlikely to be pregnant. I am now hoping that her ex got into a fight with some other guy, she stepped in to hit the other guy with a parasol, and her ex got embarrassed about having to be saved by her and broke up with her. Something that shows the guy was a real loser.

Elias puts Baby Carstairs up for adoption

  In COG2 we got a huge surprise that Sona was pregnant with her third child, unexpected as the family tree only lists her and Elias as having two children. Well actually actually the Carstairs family line is tree has parts of it that “Were lost to time”. So something clearly happened. Jem was clearly hiding something.

   This pregnancy was clearly unplanned and does present some worry’s. For starters Sona is well past the age where it easier/safest for women to give have children. She was already starting to have a difficult time with it during COG2 when she finally confessed to Cordelia that she was about 3 months along. This means that she will be about 7 months along (almost ready to give birth) when we pick up again in COI. Well in the early chapter read Alastair said that his mother has been put on Bed rest with her husband staying by her side and silent brothers monitoring her. This does not sound good. Several people have theorized that even with the brothers help, she will not make it through childbirth. Now lets talk about the babies father Elias Carstairs. Elias Carstairs is even older than his wife. He spent his youth traveling the world (I read a tweet that said he has even gone between dimensions before) leading special expeditions and hunting rare and powerful demons. This sounds grand, but it was a grueling life that left him physically and emotionally scared. Tragically the Clave does not recognize mental health as a need, so they do not provide any kind of therapy or treatment for those who become traumatized. Like many poor soldiers throughout American history Elias was there for the Clave when they needed his help but it that help was not reciprocated at the end. The only comfort he found was at the bottom of the bottle. It took Elias until he was already in his 40′s to start a family, and he has struggled with being able to take care of himself enough to act as a father to the two children he and Sona have already raised. Elias is 63. He is sad and tired, and struggling to keep a handle on his sobriety. This child was unplanned. I have read tweets that show he is at least trying to support Sona, but CC reveals he is questioning if or if not he can really do this a third time. If Sona dies there is no way Elias can raise this child himself. I won’t fault him if he makes that choice, it might be the most loving thing he can do.

   Who would adopt the little guy. Well the most common theory is that Alastair and Thomas would become his new dads. Now the family tree does suggest that both Alastair and Thomas are dads in the future. It also doesn’t list the names of either of their spouses (I am guessing neither had wives) so their is nothing to suggest that they do not live together raising a group of adopted children. Given the way the Cave feels about homosexual parents that could also be why Jem “lost” the records. I will not deny Thomstair becoming adopted parents is plausible, but I am not completely sure that baby Carstaris is who they will adopt. Babies are hard, they are a lot of work, and I am not convinced either Alastair or Thomas will be up to it. Look at Alastair. He is not exactly in a good place at the start of COI, and whenever fans ask CC if Alastair will make any friends she always reply that he won’t until he learns how to speak nicely to people and to be there for them when they need him. Honestly that is a thing he struggles with. He obviously loves Cordelia, but he totally pulled an  Queen Elsa on her where he shut the door and shut her out for roughly 7 years of their lives, leaving her as alone as Anna was. He claims to have loved Charles but the pair spend most of COG arguing because Alastair wants Charles to spend all his time with him and Charles is struggling to balance his promotion, his public reputation, and Alastair (Important I am not saying it was wrong for Alastair to be upset about Charles engagements or to break up with him. I am just saying it seems like Charles did try to see Alastair as much as he could, and Alastair trying to pin all his emotional needs on one person, who already had so much going on, was unfair). On Thomas side well lets just say he has a lot of mixed up and complicated feeling of his own he needs to work out before he will be able to be in a healthy relationship let alone raise a child.

  If Thomstair aren’t able to take care of Baby Carstairs I bet I know a long time married, long time Carstairs loving couple, who would be happy to take the little guy in and have enough resources, experience, and love to give him a great life. Hey in the future Tessa says she has kept watch over three families: the Herondales, the Carstairs, and the Blackthorns. The Herondales and the Blackthorns are her and Will’s grandchildren. If she were watching the Carstairs because they were once her friends wouldn’t she also watch out for the Fairchilds and Lightwoods?

Blackthorn Babies with Mundane and Shadowhunter mommies and daddies

  (Okay this is one will involve some hopping around and several references to the family tree, so stay with me people, stay with me.) We aleady know Jem made some changes to this line. Lucie is not 12, she is 16. Tatiana is probably not going to live another 15 years. Also the tree said that Jesse dies 59, yet he actually died at 17. But future wife Lucie wants to resurrect him... which is highly illegal and should she be successful she will probably face terrible repercussions. Jesse also might not be able to live as a shadowhunter after being brought back. So even if we don’t want it, for the sake of this theory lets assume that upon Jesse’s resurrection both he and Lucie are banished and become a mundane pianist and writer. Let’s assume they also get married and have children. In order for the TDA Blackthorns to be shadowhunters at least one of Jucie’s kids would have to become a shadowhunter and move to the shadow world. I feel like Luce and Jesse would be willing to let their kids go in that case. That was all Jesse wanted growing up and Lucie is Will’s daughter. The children would just need someone they could stay with.

  Now lets hop to the Lightwood family line. According to the tree Christopher and Grace get married (Grace is also listed as a Cartwright so was her adoption overturned and she rejoined her bio family?) and continue the Lightwood line down to TMI. Grace and Christopher are set up to bond  (over science) and many fans are willing to believe that they are an endgame ship. But fans are also doubting that they are the ancestors of the TMI lightwoods.  For one thing Christopher is heavily coded to be asexual; and Grace herself seems to have a very.... twisted and warped view of physical acts. So now lets say Grace is somehow saved from punishment over Jesse’s resurrection or because of her past trauma is given a lighter sentence. Lets say Gracetopher really do get married. if they got married they probably will apt out of having children; at least biological children.

   Christopher has a younger brother , Alexander Lightwood, who seems like a much more likely candidate to continue his family line. Alex has been noted to have those dark blue eyes that while once a Herondale trait later become a Lightwood trait. He shares a first name one of TMI’s most prominent characters, and that is just about the only way baby Alex could have relevance to the story given that he is way to young to help out in the war. If Alexander Lightwood the first is one who carried on the Lightwood line why are his descendants listed under his brother and sister in laws names?

   Well way back before the CC launched TLH I remember her posting a tweet that said Grace could become an ancestor of either the Herondale or the Blackthorn line. This upset a lot of people who thought that it meant that Grace may have a baby with either James or Jesse. (No, just NO!!!) But what if instead of Grace having a baby with Jesse, She and Christopher adopt one of Jesse and Lucie’s babies so that that baby could be raised as a shadowhunter? I could see Grace and Christopher doing do: they each love one of the respective parents and are set get to know the other. The only good thing about Tatiana adopting Grace was she got Jesse as a brother. Should she ever recover from having Tatiana as an adoptive mother I could see her becoming very critical of other adoptions and refusing to allow Jesse’s children to potentially end up like she did. I am in love with a head cannon I have that Christopher will become a science professor at the academy. If Lucie and Jesse have to leave the shadow world, and they have to give up their children then I want to imagine that child living in Malec’s future academy suit with Shadowhunter mommy and daddy Gracetopher while they secretly get gifts and send letters to their mundane mommy and daddy Juice. (It is the least CC can do for the pain reading about that potential exile would cause me.)

[rjhpandapaws]

How a Family is Built

Chapter 1: It Starts with a Couple of Good Friends

Connor took some time on his own after the revolution. It had seemed like the most fitting thing to do. Very few androids trusted him, though he couldn’t blame them, so he didn’t believe he would be that welcome at Jericho. The hug he and Hank had shared had been nice but there was a defined line between coworkers and housemates that Connor didn’t feel that he would be permitted to cross. Not to mention being temporarily unemployed meant that he wouldn’t be able to contribute to the household which would have been unfair to Hank. He was CyberLife’s crowing achievement, he could figure something out. As it turned out, there weren’t too many places that were willing to hire you when the only thing you had done was hunt your own kind, and failed at that too. Sure, he was one of the faces of the Revolution, but that seemed to hurt more than it helped him. Some places seemed to believe that he was applying for jobs to make a point instead of the fact that he actually needed one and turned him away. He considered a dog walking service but only briefly because as much as he liked dogs they didn’t always seem to like him. He assumed it was because he didn’t smell like anything organic and that meant danger in most cases.

So he wandered instead and picked up odd jobs when and wherever he could. He was intentionally vague about his whereabouts and what he was doing whenever Markus or Hank reached out to him. He was aware he was probably causing them more worry than relief, but he wasn’t ready to admit that his venture into the real world had been a failure. That despite all that he had been built to be he had failed. He wasn’t sure how much of that fear was his own and how much of it was from what failure had meant for him before the Revolution. He was still trying to parse Connor from RK800. He was aware that there was only so much separation that could be done, but he still wanted to know the difference between his deviancy and his base code. Hank and Markus would both say that it wasn’t important, but they also hadn’t had an angry AI rip everything out from under them. She had been quiet since CyberLife had been returned to Elijah, but he wanted to know what his natural state of being was just in case she ever returned. He wanted to know what normal was in the event he would have to fight his way back again. Hank would have called him paranoid, but he felt he had a right to be after everything that had happened to him. Reality was a luxury in his situation and he wanted to keep his grip on it as best he could. If that meant wandering aimlessly through Detroit then that was what he would do.

The thing about friends is that when they only hear from you on occasion and don’t see you for nearly a year apparently they get worried. Connor couldn’t explain what had happened to him between when he saw Markus at a cafe and when he woke up in Hank’s living room. Before this crash he hadn’t gone into proper stasis in months. He got a few minutes here or there, but never enough to sort out the ever growing pile of errors in his code. “He finally back with us?” Came Hank’s voice from somewhere in the house. “Yeah. He’s back online, he just needs a few moments to recalibrate.” That was Markus’s voice, and from far closer than Connor would have liked. He was only made aware of the interface that had kept Markus so close to him because of the notification he received when it was terminated. He let his systems finish calibrating before he opened his eyes. He felt notably less sluggish now and the dread of the feeling that he had been slipping away from himself was nearly gone. He sat up carefully and took in his surroundings. He was in Hank’s house and it was much more clean that it had been on his last visit. “Welcome back to the land of the living Kid.” Hank remarked as he walked into the living room with a bottle of thirium in one hand and a light beer in the other. Some habits refused to die he supposed.

“Thank you.” He said as he took the offered thirium bottle, “Sorry for taking up your couch.” Hank rolled his eyes as he sat in the open space on the couch, “You can make it up to me by being honest about where you’ve been the past few months and why you haven’t been sleeping.” “Androids don’t-” Connor started. “It’s a turn of phrase Connor.” Hank cut him off, “Now out with it.” “Take your time.” Markus said in a way that would have been reassuring if Connor hadn’t been so on edge, “I’m here if you would rather interface.” He watched Markus pack up the laptop and various tablets he had likely been using to monitor him while he had been in stasis. Did he dare tell them the truth and admit to being a failure? It didn’t come with the same consequences as before but something about it still didn’t feel right. He didn’t want to face their disappointment. He was pulled out of his thoughts by Hank putting a hand on his knee. “Nothing short of having gone back to tracking down Deviants is going to upset us Con, I promise.” Hank said and gave his leg a reassuring squeeze, “But you haven’t slept in close to six months and between that and never hearing from you, we’re worried. We just want to make sure you’re alright.”

“You’ve been checking for your Amanda program again.” Markus pressed, his tone was less frantic than Hank’s but the worry was still there, “We made sure that she was gone. Your Mind Palace is your own now.” “Is that what’s bothering you Connor?” Hank asked. “Part of it.” He admitted as he blinked away the stress warning that popped up on his HUD, “I want to be sure what I’m feeling is mine and not just my code. That it won’t be taken away again as soon as I make a mistake.” He hadn’t meant to let all of that out, but once he had started he couldn’t stop the words from spilling out short of shutting off his vocal processor. Hank looked surprised and Markus looked worried. “Connor, we wouldn’t let something like that happen to you.” Markus said as he reached out for Connor. His synthskin hadn’t fallen away but Connor knew he was offering to interface, to be a median if that would be easier. “You trust us don’t you?” “Of course I do.” He agreed, “Its myself and my systems that I don’t trust. How do I know that I’m actually Deviant? How can we be sure this isn’t just another last ditch effort by CyberLife to undo everything? How do I know that any of this is real?” “Alright, fuck this.” Hank sighed as he stood, “Time to get the dog. He’ll know if its you or not. You’re his goddamn favorite after all.”

Connor found himself looking around the room as he finally noticed the absence of a certain four legged beast. He set the empty thirium bottle on the coffee table and leaned back against the couch. That was all the time he had to brace himself. He heard an excited boof and the scramble of paws on the hardwood floor. “Go find him, go find Connor.” Hank encouraged. Connor found himself buried under an excited Saint Bernard only a few moments later. He felt himself smile genuinely for the first time in months. He buried his face and hands in the dog’s fur and felt a rush of relief. Sumo had recognized him, which meant at the very least that today was real. Had he been able to he would have cried. “The big lug missed you just like the rest of us.” Hank said from behind him, “I had to pull him away from the door the first couple of weeks you were gone. He thought that every little sound on the other side was you.” “I’m sorry.” He said from his place buried in Sumo’s side. “Just keep in touch this time Kid.” He said as he laid a hand on Connor’s shoulder, “Or tell us where you’ve been staying so we can come and visit you instead.” Connor hesitated for a long moment caught between lying; which would lower Hank’s concern; or telling the truth and making him upset. He settled for the truth, “I haven’t really been staying anywhere in particular.”

He was met with a long stretch of silence before Markus decided to speak up, “Do you mean that you have been homeless or something else?” The concern in his voice made Connor flinch. “I don’t have a place to stay.” He confessed, “If I was working I would stay there if I was able to.” He heard Hank sigh from behind him, “Connor you could have come back here if you needed to.” “I didn’t want to disappoint you because I couldn’t do this on my own.” Connor said. He sat up but continued to pet Sumo who had finally calmed down, “I’m designed to be able to adapt and I couldn’t even get a job.” “Stop that Connor.” Hank said firmly, “I wouldn’t have been disappointed. I know it seems like it, but I’m not mad, I’m just worried.” He walked around to the front of the couch so he could look Connor in the eye, “Finding a job is hard, it always has been, but the odds are stacked against you because of what you’re known for. I know its not what you want to do, but I can talk to Jeff about you coming back to the station.” “There is always a place for you at Jericho as well if you would rather that.” Markus took a moment when he noticed Connor’s hesitation, “You can stay with me if that works better. We could always use a liaison with the police, I know it isn’t ideal, but we can give you that much until you can find something else that interests you.”

“There aren’t many androids that are willing to trust me. Are you sure it would be okay?” Connor pressed, “Police work feels too close too what I used to be.” “You don’t have to decide today.” Markus replied, “You can stay wherever you are the most comfortable until you decide on something.” “I don’t want to be a burden.” Connor deflected. “Connor, we’re your friends. We wouldn’t be offering if we didn’t want you here.” Hank argued, “That aside, I really don’t think Sumo is going to be all that keen on letting you out of his sight now that you’re back.” Connor looked down at the content Saint Bernard that had made himself at home in Connor’s lap and the space that was left on the couch. He supposed it wouldn’t be fair to any of them if he vanished again so soon after coming back. “And if you wind up deciding you would rather go soul searching again we won’t stop you.” Hank continued, “All I ask is that you keep in touch this time around.” Markus nodded his agreement, “Take a few days to rest. Think about what you want, and when you’re ready you can tell us what you decided on. We’ll wait as long as it takes.” “We just want you to be happy Con.” Hank said, “That’s where it starts.” “I’ll think about it.” He said eventually, “I missed you too, I think. Being back is nice at the very least.”

Hank and Markus smiled. “That’s all we could ask.” Markus said, “I’ve got to get back, but I’m only a ping or a call away.” “Thank you.” Connor said as Markus grabbed his things and stood. Hank ordered Sumo off of the couch and sat down beside Connor. “He worried more than he let on, we both did. We’re glad you’re okay.” Hank let out a sigh, “And I know its beating a dead horse at this point, but we care about you. If you ever feel like that again, please reach out. We can’t help you if we don’t know.” Connor nodded, “I will try and be better.” Hank smiled, “Good. Now let’s watch some shitty tv until you feel better.”

[nat-the-cat-123]

(this will be a VERY long post)

✨Time to criticize Yashahime ✨

First of all:

I will only criticize the writing aspects, so don't expect me to say anything about the animation since I barely know about that stuff

Because of this I also won't address anything of Sessrin or the discontent because of Moroha's and Inukag's separation because that's more of a fandom thing

And this is only the opinion of someone who isn't any kind of expert in writing or something like that

Uff, Yashahime finally ended and it was... Interesting.

So let's criticize it :)

So first of all let's tell the ✨the good things✨ because even if there are more bad things, infact there are very little good things, we have to give credit where credit is due.

Good things :D

The girls' originality

Something that I saw other fandoms have complained in their own "next generation sequel" (like in boruto) is that the kids were just a "copy paste" of their parents, and when Yashahime was just announced I saw the same concerns (specially with Setsuna and Moroha)

But in the end I think any of them ended up being just female Inuyasha/Sesshomaru, and all were able to be their very own character.

Half of their relationship

Ok, I'm specifying that only half because sometimes the twins would be a little unfair with Moroha, but then be her "new family"(?), But then they proceed to leave her behind, and then AGAIN being like bff's so there is no consistency.

But in the first episodes Sunrise got it right and we could see a pretty good and functional dynamic between the 3 that was consistent and made sense.

Each one had a defined role that worked, Towa was the "moral" one, Setsuna the "cold" one who took more drastic decisions, and Moroha intervenes mediating both and brings information that may help please both sides. (At the beginning)

Moroha

I'M SORRY, I'm sorry, I can't help it, it's just that she has so much charm and is so lovely and innocent. And you can totally ignore the fact that she's InuKag's daughter and still love her just because her personality brings so much to the story.

It's such a shame that they didn't really use all her potential but I'll get to that later.

Aaaand that's all ;-;

Now let's go to the interesting part...

The bad things D:<

Towa

This point I actually want to explore it further in another post, because there's a lot I want to talk about her to specify what exactly went wrong and how I would have managed her but here I will leave it simple.

Towa in any way possible wasn't properly used, and even if almost every character suffered of bad writing, she was the most affected one.

She honestly isn't interesting, everything that could have been done with her according to her backstory was completely wasted, because even if she was the one with the least tragic story, there was a lot to work with (I mean, just look at Kagome's case and still most of the fandom loved her)

She kept changing her personality and ideology according to what the story needed, and at some point her only trait was "Setsuna's protective older sister"

And don't even get me started with how overpowered she is without any kind of training (I get she knows how to fight with bullies, but clearly that isn't the same as fighting demons with demonic energy)

Phasing

When people argue if the phasing is too fast or too slow, I think it's both, but in the worst way possible.

They waste so much time in scenes that aren't really that necessary or could be much shorter, and rush at incredible speed things that should actually be worked slowly and carefully.

The fights

I only can remember two or three that I actually liked because most of them were just exchanging hits with the sword, sometimes an special movement and that's all.

Half of the battles didn't affect the story in the least, and the worst of all was how the villains were defeated wether because they were lame as fuck or because Towa's random power up appeared out of nowhere.

Meanwhile in Inuyasha even if we didn't always had the best fights of all anime, we did get some pretty interesting choreographies and some villains really had an impact on the characters in a natural way.

Talking about villains...

Naraku is laughing from his grave

You know? I'm not a Naraku fan, but he was a bastard that you loved to hate, he maybe wasn't the most powerful character when we talk purely about his strength, but he was intelligent as fuck, he was always one step ahead, he had some pretty interesting abilities and plans, with him he brought other AMAZING villains (or anti heroes) like Kagura, Kanna, Hakudoshi, the weird baby, or even Sesshomaru back at the beginning, and the best part was how he was written being a complex character (like when he struggled with his human feelings for Kikyo)

But on the other hand we have Kirinmaru, Zero, the four losers (I mean, perils), probably my boy Riku, and who knows what other random villains.

First of all, ONLY RIKU would be a good villain (maybe I should have put him in the good things ;-;)

But then we have the four perils who, out of them the only one who seemed to know what he was doing was the green guy that did weird witchcraft, but the rest? They are just randomly bothering people because they have nothing else to do and honestly they didn't seem to be that powerful.

I'm not sure about Kirinmaru because I don't see anything clear with him, I mean, I'm not even sure if he's a villain.

And Zero... *Sighs*

I don't get what the hell she's trying to do. Anything that she does makes sense. She's just alive because of Riku, without him she can't do anything.

Like seriously, half of the world was after Naraku's ass, even his allies, and still he could get away with it. Zero can't even get her army in order to take care of 3 fourteen years old girls.

(Sorry for letting myself go with this one ;-;)

Not using half of your characters

I guess the best example is Moroha because even with an interesting backstory, mysterious abilities, and most of the fandom's love, they just used her as comedic relief for most of the series instead of developing her character or explaining better her spiritual abilities or Beniyasha.

And not only her, Hisui and the rest of the demon slayers were more of a background character. For example, in Hisui's episode we should have gotten to meet him, Gyokuto, and Kin'u better, but they preferred to focus in the twins AGAIN and not work the MirSan family. (Guys, first season and I still can't tell Hisui's definitive personality)

Same Takechiyo, Kyubi, Yawaragi, Kohaku, the villains, some past characters, sometimes even Riku. Basically every character who isn't Towa and Setsuna are walking tools for them to use whenever the plot needs it.

And no, I'm not saying "The twins shouldn't be the protagonists", a I'm saying "SIDE CHARACTERS AREN'T JUST PLOT DEVICES, THEY ALSO DESERVE DEFINED PERSONALITIES AND CHARACTER ARCS TO MAKE THE WORLD RICHER, OTHERWISE IT FEELS LIKE THE WORLD REVOLVES AROUND THE PROTAGONISTS"

Inuyasha knew when and how to dedicate an episode to a character, Yashahime doesn't.

Lack of character development

No one, except for Setsuna who is learning to rely and trust more on the girls, has any kind of development (sorry Moroha (･ัω･ั)).

I see Towa exactly the same as in the first episode, and because of how they've barely put attention to Moroha, she has barely shown any growth as well.

And I guess Hisui learnt how to trust his dad, but again, I can barely tell which is his personality, and the rest are background characters.

Powers / Abilities / Weapons

Here they neither explained ANY of the characters abilities properly or made them more powerful making sense.

Towa, just randomly learnt how to concentrate her demon energy in a sword and just keeps getting new abilities without training, and any of them seem to have any effect on Towa like (idk) having the risk of running out of energy. And at the beginning I liked how she struggled with her other demon abilities like smelling things but then they just forgot ;-;.

Setsuna's stick just produces wind and lasers without explanation, and her sealed power doesn't really work naturally.

And Moroha... EXPLAIN BENIYASHA BETTER. SAME FOR THE SPIRITUAL POWERS, that was supposed to be impossible!!! And again they recognized that at the very beginning, why did they forgot about it later???

There barely has been any "world" expansion

Something that Inuyasha never really got into was the "demon society", because with the exception of some tribes they never mentioned anything related to that BUT...

With that thing of Inu no Taisho and Kirinmaru apparently being "royalty" I thought they would talk more about that "Demon hierarchy" or if "Setsuna's courage trial" was something like a demon tradition (damn, that was honestly pretty interesting) but NO.

The topic has been barely mentioned and let's keep saying over and over again what the audience already knows for 24 episodes.

Weird Exposition

The way they threw information at us was pretty weird, like it didn't feel "organic" because instead of the girls getting into whatever situation where "x" character tells them certain things because it is related to what is happening, again, they chose pretty weird ways.

There were like 1,000 different options to tell us what happened to InuKag and Sesshomaru and all of them, like the girls talking with Myoga or Kaede...

BUT THEY CHOSE TO BREAK THE FOURTH WALL.

Comedy

I'm not saying Moroha is a bad comedy relief, she actually came with many good jokes, but you can't leave only ONE character to take care of the comedy. Towa and Setsuna also came with some good funny moments, so why would they only reduce the comedy to Moroha????

(In Inuyasha EVERYONE gave amazing comedy moments, even Sesshomaru)

And the worst part is that they only use the same joke with her most of the time! Losing her bounty and being poor.

"Atmosphere" (?)

I Promise I don't want to sound pretentious with this one ;-;

Those scenes where we were supposed to feel sad because of someone's death, intimidated because Kirinmaru appeared or excited because of a fight didn't work out.

I don't know exactly why but I think that it is because of a combination of lazy animation, bad selection of soundtrack, weird dialogue and the characters' lack of reaction.

So now that I think I've said all the points that they got wrong, let's get to the conclusion.

They stablished side plots or mysteries everywhere and didn't really do anything with them.

The girls never advanced with the story, they just kept running in circles around the same point during 24 episodes. (And no matter how long or short a story is, you can NEVER do that or you'll lose the audience's attention).

And with or without a second season, they made terrible mistakes that won't be able to be fixed. If it is only one season, TERRIBLE, they left way to much things uncovered, and if they plan another season, ALSO TERRIBLE, they rushed essential things and if they work them again they'll repeat one of their biggest mistakes.

And honestly I really tried to love this sequel, almost up to episode 12 I really tried to appreciate the small good things but they just kept slapping me with disappointment every single episode, and if they release a second season, I'll watch it but this time only expecting the worst of it.

In resume, yo can only truly enjoy Yashahime if you completely turn off your critical sense, and expecting nothing from it, otherwise you'll only keep asking yourself "why?"

[yanderecandystore]

Reader is alone in their room throwing a rubber ball against the wall which at one point rolls away but is returned to them. Looking up they see a single eye ball, Buddy is slowly making themselves visible again. Buddy is covered in healed scars and wound. A soft whine and a wag of a tail. Black and Red pop in for the daily check up and see whats going on Remeber self care is best care :o - Cold Anon

Thanks for caring for me Cold, but like- You really do be breaking my heart with these beautiful angst concepts ;^;

TW/Tags: Feels (angst lol) // mentions of animal abuse // d r a m a (also a little different from what you originally thought off-) // cursing // plot twist that was pulled straight out of my ass- (I can't blame y'all if this seem boring or uninteresting lol, but it was the only plot twist that I felt like it was fitting).

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

Broken smile [Yandere!Among Us x Reader - Headcanon]:

Can you imagine your shock at seeing the familiar eyes looking at your own with nothing but relief and sorrow? Can you imagine seeing your little warrior walking inside your room slowly and clumsy due to his wounds.

You jump out of bed and go hug your best friend, despite knowing fully well that he hasn't recovered fully from whatever hell he clearly went through. He was anticipating the impact but it still hurts him despite his best efforts to hold it in-

You haven't come off of your bedroom that day, most of the crew was too busy to notice that you weren't doing your tasks, but of course they would notice before everyone else-

"- Babe, have you seen [Y/N] anywhere? I have a feeling we haven't talked much."

"- That's because we didn't. They haven't gotten out of their room ever since this morning-"

"- What?? Black, you should have told me sooner, come on, we need to see if they're okay- Wait!"

"- W-What is it??"

"- Where…. Black, where is M.Red?"

Instead of going straight to checking how you were they decided to search for their child since Mini Red just suddenly disappeared-

They eventually found him, and scolded the young child for giving both of his parents a heart attack, when asked where he was, M.Red said something quite surprising:

"- I was playing doctor with the doggie!"

You heard loud bagging on your door, you didn't really expect anyone to call you so late, they probably noticed you haven't attend to any of the tasks in the spaceship (although let's be honest, you're more surprised it took them 24 hours to notice that instead of realizing your lack of presence sooner-).

You recognized that friendly family that you have grown to appreciate over the past month, Red and Black has been nothing but sweet with you and M.Red is such a energetic kid-

You didn't want to get out of your room, so instead you welcomed them in, and as soon as their eyes looked at the medicines and the space canine laying on top of it all covered in wounds, they understood what happened.

He came back. The stupid dog came back, yet in their hearts there was nothing like hate or anger at the sight of the severely damaged dog.

No, on the contrary, there was pity inside them mixed with somewhat of a relief.

Well, don't get me wrong, they hate your dog still, he is nothing more than an immense rock in their path yet there is something so, well, "heartwarming" about seeing you reunited.

It's so fun to see their loved one so happy even if it's because of… That dog.

You didn't come out of your room at all that day, you just wanted to be with your friend and take care of him, you took first-aid kits on medbay to take care of his untreated wounds. Buddy came back all patched up yet whoever did it clearly didn't do a good job at it in the first place! You were glad someone at least tried to help, yet there was something very worrying about his condition-

If someone tried to fix him up, it was because he was hurt in the first place. Buddy is a smart boy yet he wouldn't be able to properly recover those wounds on his own.

So when you brought the topic to them, you didn't expect a small hand be raised in such a excited way- M.Red was so proud of his work despite the fact he doesn't know anything about treating a wounded space animal, and honestly he didn't care- He saw it all as a fun game, in his eyes finding the dog in such a small and convenient finding place was nothing but a fun game, he not only found a good hiding spot to play hide and seek with Black, but also the dog, which he only saw as a toy.

To put it promptly, Buddy was waiting to die by the hands of the gremlin child, yet he was delightfully surprised to see the child so excited about helping him get his wounds treated, despite the fact they did it for their own twisted little amusement. At least the kid liked him more than his parents did.

Both of his parents were hesitant in letting you know that their kid had found the dog before you did, since it could be considered kinda weird for their kid to be able to find your dog in a isolated tiny spot of the spaceship that was completely off the cameras view and only accessible by the ventilation system- They lied about their child randomly founding the dog walking around instead of actually founding the filthy thing's hiding place.

No one can go in the vents unless they were small or a shapeshifting monster, and their child just happened to be both at the same time-

Either way, after finally being reunited with your dog, everyone expected things to go back to normal, even Buddy seemed tired of this nonsense, yet things never did go back to the way they were.

It was interesting how much of an impact you had on your crew. People didn't give you that much attention, yet whenever you changed your behavior it seemed to take over the entire mood of the ship. You may be thinking I'm exaggerating, yet it's not hard to believe it, is it?

After all, think about it, your dog just came back hurt from something that has done a great deal of damage to him. Something or someone made him hide away from everyone else so he could catch a break.

Buddy was a brave boy yet he was careful enough to see when a fight wasn't worth fighting. Buddy ran away and managed to hide for so long, he must have seen something or someone that was capable of scaring him from even coming back unprepared.

You mentioned that at your meeting and everyone seemed shocked at your claims, and even more surprised by how you sounded so… Angry. You sounded like someone that was calm now, yet was holding enough anger to fight anyone if not everyone in the cafeteria if they gave you the smallest hints of being the one that has hurted your doggie.

Even though he was kinda weirded out by your demeanor, the poor thing thought that he had caused you so much pain that him coming back wasn't the best thing he should have done. You were the same person as when he ran away, yet you sounded so mad…

And you rightfully were. You have been beating yourself up and feeling depressed thinking your sweet boy has died and when he comes back he is wounded to the point of not being able to walk properly. You have every right to want to beat the shit of whoever did this, even if they weren't human to begin with.

You felt like you had every right to judge every single person sitting in front of you, anyone in this room could have hurted Buddy and you knew it. The arguing was so strong that you had to be calmed down by Red, Black and Buddy at the same time.

One person in particular seemed to be pointing you out as "obviously the killer" that has orchestrated this whole charade as a way to throw everyone off, you almost did slap a bitch that day-

Others seem to understand your condition. You literally just lost your dog and he came back all bloodied and wounded. You were hurt and pissed at whoever the culprit was, even if you weren't sure of who it was.

And there was a strong intuition indicating that maybe the culprit that hurted your dog, was also the monster going around killing your crewmates. But sadly, Buddy has also changed after the incident.

Buddy didn't seem to recognize who.was the culprit, and if he could have blamed Red and Black, he knew that it was neither of them that had attacked him. Someone else has taken him by surprise, and was smart enough to cover their scent and human disguise, so he wouldn't recognize them if he managed to get away. Which he is glad he did, yet he is afraid he won't be of any help this time around.

He could blame Red and Black, since clearly they were going around killing everyone, but he somehow knew that they weren't involved with his case. He felt like it would be unfair to put the blame on them for his case in particular, they should still be thrown off of the spaceship but not for him.

But for all the different people they killed along the way.

And also… Maybe he did feel pity for the child, maybe he just felt like he was in debt with the kid for helping him out- Maybe if the circumstances were different he could have been friends with the little rascal (if the child had also decent parents and a therapist-).

You seemed to have noticed how Buddy hasn't openly barked at anyone, how he hasn't pointed anyone out yet, which was a little disheartening since it meant that this would be a lot harder than expected, yet you hadn't given up yet, you were determined to make justice for your dog, for everyone that had died.

Some of your crew were with you, some weren't, yet you didn't care at all- You would make sure to take care of your boy with more love and affection, you won't let this happen to him ever again.

And while you had found some sort of hope from this situation, Red and Black were concerned if not freaked out at the idea that someone else had started a hunting spree, and apparently with you and your dog as their target.

Red had asked their son if he was the one to hurt the canine, yet he said that he found him like that, hurt and bleeding. Black was feeling anxious as he couldn't smell the scent of someone of his kind hiding in between them, I'd they were also disguising themselves, it meant that they were being extra careful by flooding themselves with extra scents to blend in with everyone else.

This was way more than concerning, it meant they were in danger, you were in danger! And the culprit was being one step ahead from everyone else, since they have probably already found out about Black being an alien that has also invaded the ship, and that Red and M.Red were involved with the killings.

There were apparently three imposters among your crewmates.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

Okay sorry Cold, but now I noticed that although I tried to compile your both asks into one, it feels like I may have not done the best ;-; I'm sorry. I could totally redo it and make the Reader sick and all- If you wish boo

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

[notyetneedcoffee]

No Secrets, Part 1

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader (???)

Warnings: None in this section

“West quadrant all clear,” Natasha’s voice came across the coms.  

“There’s still a few runners on the loose out here.” Stark reported. “Wilson, there’s a pair headed your way.”

“On it.”

“Y/N, Report.” Cap swept the east side of the warehouse. “I’ve got nothing else here.”

“Standby.” You whispered. A technician and an armed soldier were loading equipment into crates. “Two hostiles on the load dock over here.”

“I’ll be there in twenty seconds.” Bucky’s voice chimed in.

You mentally rolled your eyes. Why did he always have to rush in an take over whenever you had a situation? Sliding around pallets of equipment cases, you managed to get almost behind the two. Shooting the equipment could be bad, considering this was an experimental research and testing facility. None of you knew what this stuff actually did yet.  

The armed soldier turned toward the technician. You took the opportunity, shooting him down. The technician drew a strange looking weapon, firing with unexpected speed. A piece of equipment behind you blew apart. You landed on your side shooting back, dropping the tech.  

Just as Bucky turned the corner, the broken device behind you exploded. He watched you collapse and rushed to your side. “Y/N is down!”

“What!” Steve responded at the same time Stark barked “Report!”

“An explosion” He knelt beside you looking for damage but didn’t see anything. You began to stir. “No obvious wounds. She’s coming around.”

“It’s a good thing she’s got a hard head.” Tony’s voice came through the com.  

You were on the ground, Bucky suddenly above you looking worried. As soon as you focused on him, the blue eyes went cold, pissed. “What the hell were you thinking? I told you I was coming?”

“I’m fine.” You argued sitting up, though wondering if you’d just passed out. “I got both of them.”

‘Fine my ass. You went down like a bag of rocks. Scared the shit out of me.’  

“Didn’t know you cared, Barnes.” You scoffed, getting to your feet.

“What?” He grabbed your arm, glaring at you. ‘Damn it. Why do you have to be so difficult? I just want to pack you up and get you out of here. Somewhere safe.’

“I’m not trying to, okay? What is wrong with you?” You glared back.

“Trying to what?” Bucky faced you full on, eyes hard, hand tightening on your arm.

“Not trying to be difficult. Why are...”

Bucky ripped the com unit out of his ear and reached up to take the one out of yours despite your protest. “Y/N, Look at me.” You pushed every bit of annoyance you had into your stare. ‘I think that device did something to you.’

Just before you began to argue the realization that Bucky’s lips had not moved sunk in. “What the hell?”

“That thing. Whatever it gave off.” Bucky’s eye went wide. “You can hear what I’m thinking.”

“Oh, shit.”  

‘Yeah, oh shit.’ You distinctly heard his voice in your head. ‘I’m so fucked.’

“Why?’ Your eyebrow quirked up as Bucky handed you back you com.  

He replaced his own in his ear. “Banner. We have a situation. I’m bringing Y/N back to the jet.”

“What’s going on?” Steve’s voice cut in before Bruce could respond.

“The device that blew did, I don’t know, something to her mind.”

“I’m right here.” You barked. “Stop talking around me.”

“What’s wrong? She sounds like her normal charming self.” Stark chimed in.

“She, ah,” Bucky looked sideways at you. “She’s hearing my thoughts.”

There was a long moment of silence on the coms. Then everyone spoke at once.

“Get her to the jet!”

“What!”

“How the hell?”

“Are you serious?”

“Children!” Tony shouted. “Barnes, get her to the jet. Banner, it might not be a bad idea to sedate her until we can run a full battery of tests at the lab. I’m heading in to get a look at that device.”

“Come on, Doll.” Bucky grabbed you by the arm and practically dragged you through the facility. ‘Let’s knock you out before you hear something you shouldn’t.’

“Really?”  

Bucky gave you a pleading look and you found yourself relenting. Fine. When you reached the jet, Bruce had earbuds in, listening to opera. He led you to one of the recycling seats and performed a quick perfunctory exam and then set up an IV. “I’m going to give you a sedative. We’ll wake you up in the lab. Okay?”

“Yeah,” you sighed. “Whatever.”

‘Sorry.’ Bucky looked at you with mournful eyes.  

“I hate this.” You grumbled, already feeling the effects.

“You know that Nat and Tony, hell any of us, are not comfortable with the idea of someone without control reading our minds.” Bucky actually took your hand in his. ‘It’ll be okay. I’ll stay right here.’

The noise woke you before the light. They were familiar voices. Steve, Bucky, Bruce, and Tony were arguing. Some loud, some not. It was strange. You fought to open your eyes. They felt heavy, sticky. The drugs. That’s right.

“Hey.” You croaked, swallowed, and tried again. “Hey, guys. Take it outside.”

“Y/N.” Steve leaned over you. “How you feeling?”

“Fuzzy.”

‘No shit, they’ve kept you under for six days.’ Bucky was taking your other hand, a scowl on his face. You gave him a look, but he shook his head slightly.  

“What’s going on?” You asked.

“It appears you were hit with a massive surge from the whatever that device was. It flooded you with an energy with a signature similar to what we saw from the Mind Stone. We can’t really test anything beyond computer simulations because the explosion completely burned out the device.” Bruce explained. “What we can say, is the abnormal readings in your brain have been steadily decreasing by 1.7% a day.”

“A day.” You repeated. “What day is it, exactly?"

‘Damn. Damn. Damn.’ Bruce looked at you, head tipped low. “The fifteenth.”

‘Should’ve kept her under.’ Tony looked on nervously. ‘Fuck. Did she hear that? Shit. What now? She looks pissed.’

‘So sorry. Never should have let it go so long.’ Steve watched your face, holding your hand.

‘I’ll beat the hell out of them for this. Not right keeping you under when there’s nothing wrong with you.’ Bucky squeezed your other hand.

“So, I’m what? A security risk. You don’t want me picking up on stray thoughts that I shouldn’t.”  

‘Oh, thank fucking god!’ Tony gave you a sad smile that was completely contradictory to celebratory tune in his mind. “Something like that.”

“We figure since you were only picking up on Barnes while you were at the warehouse, and the nearest person was about two hundred meters away, we could just...” Bruce began explaining.

“Sequester me by myself somewhere until this wears off.” You pulled your hands away from the boys, crossing your arms. “For what? Two, three months? Alone. Great.”  

‘Over my dead body, you don’t get to lock her up ‘cause your uncomfortable, asshole.’ Bucky’s stray thought nearly made you smile.

“I’ve got an amazing place all lined up. Just twenty minutes from the compound and it’s been all tricked out with the best stuff.” Tony spoke a million words a minute. “Movies, streaming, video conferencing, gaming, a full library. Amazing kitchen. AI. The scenery is cool. Stuff can be delivery. Shop all you want, I got you covered. Just consider it a paid vacation.”

‘It’s too long.’ Steve was staring out the window. ‘Don’t want you gone that long.’

“I’ll come weekly and run a check.” Bruce added. ‘This sucks.’

“So, ah, here’s all the info.” Stark handed you a tablet. “Pack up and stay in touch. Um, sorry kid.” He left with Bruce on his heels.  

“Great.” You swung your feet out of bed. “Well, you boys going to run away too?”

‘Don’t wanna, Doll.’ Bucky stepped up, rubbing your shoulder. “I don’t care what these assholes think. We’ll figure something out. I’m going to go fuel up your car, okay?”

You nodded and he left. Bucky had always been a friend, but what he didn’t say made you adore him even more. Ever since joining the team, he and Steve were your first and closest friends. A gentle chant of ‘in and out’ made you realize Steve was working very hard to keep his mind blank by focusing on his breathing.  

“Steve.” You got up, a bit wobbly.

‘Damn it.’ His arm came around your side to support you immediately. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have let this go on for so long. Are you okay?” Steve’s eye’s filled with concern. ‘You don’t look okay. God, I screwed up.’

“I’ll be okay.” You leaned into him, wrapping your arms around his waist. “It’s just a lot and I’m still a little, I don’t know, disoriented.”

He squeezed you. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing. You didn’t do anything wrong.” You spoke into his chest.

“I should have fought harder to wake you up sooner. I don’t like this idea of sending you away.” Steve gave you a squeeze. ‘I don’t want you to go anywhere. We can stay just like this.’

Something tightened in your chest. A nervous flutter danced across your belly. Just to test the feeling, you turned into Steve’s embrace fully, tipping your head up and burying your nose in his neck. You murmured. “It sucks but, I’ll be okay.”  

‘Oh god,’ Steve gave you a tighter squeeze. ‘She feels so good. So damn good. Not about you, Rogers. Get it together.’ He held you back from him. “Are you going to be okay getting ready? Do you help?”  

You stared into his eyes for a long moment, wondering why you never realized there was an attraction there before. He was focusing on making sure you would be okay. It was so sweet. Still, random thoughts burst through. ‘It may be months.’ ‘Kiss her.’ ‘So beautiful.’ ‘Don’t be an idiot.’

“I’ll be okay, Steve.” You touched his cheek. “How about I call you as soon as I get there?”

“Please.”

“You can call any time.”

“I will.” He smiled, a bit shy. “I suppose it’s evident I how much I want to.”

You just smiled back. “Let’s talk about when I don’t have an unfair advantage.”

He hugged you close once more. “I’m going to miss you.”

“Yeah,” You sighed. “I’ll miss you, too.”

He left to let you get dressed. As you pulled on the pants for the scrubs, you had to fight back a giggle as you heard. ‘Smooth, Rogers. Sniff her hair like that. Idiot. Gonna miss her smell. I hate this. Should have kissed her. Idiot.’ 

TAGS Want to be added? Let me know if you want to be added to my STEVE or EVERYTHING list.

@rainbowkisses31 / @dsakita​ / @geeksareunique​ / @lbouvet​ / @buckybarneshairpullingkink​ / @theneuropsychwriter​ / @vanillabunn21​ / @sammghgecko​ / @beautifullungs​ / @badassbaker​ / @the-omni-princess​ / @sebbysstangirl​ / @jesseswartzwelder​ / @unadulteratedwizardlove / @the-reading-octopus​ / @bangtan-serendipity​ / @kiki5283​ / @mindtravelsx​ / @my-favorite-fics-and-imagines​ / @patzammit​ / @thegetawaywriter​ / @nova3312​ / @vxidnik​ / @jennmurawski13​ / @wildmoonflower​ / @rynabarnesrogers​ / @notyourtypicalrose​ / @sllooney​ / @wwe-fanfiction-queen​ / @thorfanficwriter​ / @scarlettsoldier​ / @morganhoran1671​ / @michelehansel​ / @sexyvixen7​ / @readermia​ / @buchanansebba​

[tahitianmangoes]

Absolution - Chapter 2

Pairing: Micah x Arthur Summary:  Micah often felt like he and Arthur were two sides of the same coin. Whether or not Artur shared that sentiment Micah didn’t know but ever since an encounter out west, inexplicably they keep finding themselves pulled back to one and other. NSF W | Not canon compliant Also on AO3 Chapter One 

Chapter Two -  You Scratch My Back, I’ll Scratch Yours

The new camp was called Horseshoe Overlook, Hosea said he’d been this way before a while ago. It was further east than Dutch had ever wanted to go but right now, it didn’t matter what direction they were going as long as it was the opposite of any Pinkertons still on their tail.

It was a nice camp, away from prying eyes in the Heartlands. Micah himself hadn’t been too far this way before, maybe a couple of years ago with some people he used to run with but he hadn't seen them in a long time… Last time he heard, they were stuck in Sisika penitentiary.

However, the Heartlands it seemed, was infested with O’Driscolls; spilling out of the local saloon, camping out in the fields between where they were and right to the border with Lemoyne. Not ideal but nothing they couldn’t handle, the O’Driscolls were small fry in comparison to what had happened on that boat in Blackwater.

Arthur hadn't said a word since the cabin. Micah didn't know what to say either. Arthur had curled up by the fireplace and slept after their encounter. Micah spent all night staring into the flames until his eyes smarted and the sun rose.

Micah had left Arthur asleep and ridden back to Colter with the supplies he’d found. When asked about Arthur he shrugged. Dutch seemed concerned but he also seemed to recognise that he shouldn’t question the matter.

Since moving to Horseshoe Overlook, there hadn’t been much time to talk to anyone, let alone Arthur. Maybe Arthur was right, they were even now and that was the end of the matter… So why did Micah keep thinking about it, playing it in his mind over and over like one of those flickery, moving pictures that people went to see?

If anything, that night in the cabin had made it worse. He could kid himself that at Gaptooth Ridge, it had been a one off, maybe they’d both just been frustrated - god knows it’s hard enough to get five minutes privacy to take care of yourself when you’re in a gang of twenty other people who always want something from you… But the way Arthur had pushed him flush to the wall and looked at him with intent in that cabin, like there was more to it than just having Micah suck his cock… But Micah didn’t know what and almost didn’t dare ask.

 ***

 "Mr Morgan!" Susan Grimshaw's voice was piercing as she called Arthur from across the camp. Micah looked up from the table where he sat by Pearson's wagon playing solitaire. "One of the girls said she saw your friend Miss Gillis around Valentine..." "Mary?!" Arthur repeated.

Micah’s hat hid his face so they couldn’t see him looking up from his card game. Arthur had been busy since they got to the new camp, everyone had been really, all working to make back the money they lost in Blackwater. But it was rare for Arthur to be in camp during the day. If Micah had meant more to Arthur, he might have thought that the younger man was avoiding him. But he knew that wasn’t the case.

He absentmindedly touched his neck where he now wore a neckerchief to hide the bruises Arthur had left from that night in the cabin, biting and sucking at his skin.

Micah could see Arthur quite clearly from where he sat; he’d changed out of his winter clothes now and wore a sky blue button down shirt that matched his eyes and dark denim pants that fit him well.

Never had Micah heard Arthur's voice so excited, seen his eyes light up so as he said Mary’s name.

"Yes…" Miss Grimshaw said and her tone didn't go unnoticed by Micah, disapproving, which wasn't exactly unusual for Miss Grimshaw - a more sour faced dragon if Micah had met one. "Never did like that girl. Anyway, there's a letter for you by your tent from her." Arthur was about to turn and go to his tent when Miss Grimshaw lay an uncharacteristically gentle hand on his chest, "be careful with her, Arthur. That girl's nothing but trouble."

Arthur didn't humour her with a response. Micah watched him go to his tent and tear open the letter like a present on Christmas morning. He read it eagerly. Soon afterwards he left the camp.

Micah felt his chest tighten and didn't understand why.

 A little while later, Micah found Dutch. Dutch was unlike any man Micah had ever met before. He was intriguing, magnetic and left Micah in awe. Despite being only five or six years Micah’s senior, he saw Dutch as an almost fatherly figure.

Micah’s father had not possessed any of the skills or qualities of Dutch Van Der Linde, instead he had been what Micah had soon learned to be a bottomless evil. Nothing Micah, his brother or mother did could change that. He resented his brother, Amos, for leaving when he did but only because he had wanted to go, too… He had just been too afraid.

Micah vowed, when he left his father, that he would never be afraid of a person ever again. People would only ever fear him.

He wasn’t afraid of Dutch, more afraid that maybe he would lose favour with him now because of this ferry business. Sure, no one could have predicted what was going to happen but this was Dutch and Micah’s job and Micah had let him down, in a way. People got hurt and that sort of thing didn’t sit well with Dutch.

Dutch was around the side of his tent reading. Molly O’Shea was inside the tent, she looked annoyed to see Micah come around but truth be told, she looked annoyed whenever anyone took Dutch’s attention off of her, which Micah noticed seemed to be more often than not these days.

They had robbed a train out by Granite Pass before coming down from the mountains. He had seemed pleased with the take but it wasn’t enough. He spent a lot of is time brooding and looking anxious around the camp now.

“Dutch, can I talk to you a minute?” Micah asked. He tried to talk softly to Dutch. He wasn’t afraid of him but… One wrong word could send Dutch into a fury, he’d seen it before when Davey has spoken out of line - it was startling to see Dutch’s face turn dark, eyes completely black, drawing himself up to his full and impressive height, Micah’s never noticed how tall he was until that time, how he was muscular, too. Dutch had bellowed so loudly that his voice echoed. He never lost his cool like that, not in the six months that Micah had been with the gang and Micah didn’t fancy having that same fate.

Dutch looked up from his book, amber eyes narrowed at Micah, “what is it?” He sounded a little annoyed. “Listen… I think… I want to go back to Blackwater and get the money.” “Out of the question,” Dutch said bluntly and turned his gaze back to his book but Micah saw that his eyes didn’t move, he wasn’t reading.

Negotiating with Dutch was almost like a dance - you just have to know the steps.

“Maybe I ain’t makin’ myself clear…” Micah said carefully, “I ain’t tryin’ to rob you. You know me better than that.” Dutch closed his book now with a sigh. “Just what are you trying to do, Micah?” He asked, still sounding impatient.

The topic of the Blackwater money was a sensitive one; while everyone else had scrambled to get out of there, Dutch and Hosea had hidden the money. They had thought that it was too risky to try to get out of Blackwater with it. Micah thought that sounded a little off but who was he to argue with Dutch? Only Dutch and Hosea knew where that money was stashed, Micah didn’t even think Arthur knew - Arthur trusted Dutch wholeheartedly and would never question it. Micah trusted Dutch too, in as much as Micah could trust anyone… But it seemed a little unfair how everyone’s money was hidden and only Dutch and Hosea knew where.

“I’m tryin’ to save you. Save everybody. I’ll go to Blackwater and get the money then meet you all some place… And we’ll be home free! That’s it.”

Dutch’s brow furrowed. Micah watched him intently. He was a well dressed man, and despite being down on their luck, that hadn’t changed about him. His crimson silk vest contrasted with his crisp white shirt, the sleeves of which were rolled to the elbow. The ribbon of his hat mated the vest. Dutch removed the hat to run a hand through the dark tresses of his hair while he thought over what Micah had said.

“Just… Just think about it, boss. That’s all I’m sayin’. The way I see it, we gotta try.” Micah knew full well that Dutch probably didn’t give two shits the way Micah saw it. But it was all part of the dance.

“I…” Dutch started, turning his gaze back up to Micah. He seemed a little at a loss for words momentarily. “I’ll think about it.” he said finally.

Micah let a smile break out on his face, “thank you.” He said, not forgetting that he was still beneath Dutch in all senses of the word and he was definitely not adverse to grovelling if that’s what it took for Dutch to see sense, to let him help and who knows, take over from where Hosea so obviously wanted to leave…

 ****

 Later that night, when everyone else had gone to sleep, Micah sat by the campfire sharpening his knife. From where he sat, he had a perfect view of Arthur’s tent which was, as usual, empty.

Micah let his thoughts wander back to that morning. He wondered who this Mary woman was and how had he never heard of her until now? Was she an old flame? As long as he had known Arthur Morgan, Arthur had never had a romantic relationship, not even an unromantic one - he turned down whores in the saloons, ignored women who complimented him or gave him discount in stores on account of how handsome he was and continued with his sullen cowboy act. Micah had begun to doubt whether it was an act at all…

Just then he heard hooves approaching. Micah couldn't see who it was but he heard Bill who was on guard duty ask: “who goes there?” “Arthur, you dumbass.” Came the reply.

Micah couldn’t help feel his chest tighten again, his heart ripple. Why was he like this?

When Arthur came into view, he had a bottle of whiskey in one hand that he must have taken from the box by Hosea’s tent. As he approached the fire, he smelled like he had already been drinking. Micah didn’t look up but he could see Arthur out of the corner of his eye, hovering around the fire, watching Micah continue to sharpen his knife as if he hadn’t noticed the younger outlaw arrive. Micah didn’t look up or speak because he had no idea what to say to Arthur. Part of him thought that maybe Arthur had been right up in the cabin, maybe there was nothing to talk about.

To Micah’s surprise, Arthur sat down beside him at the fireside. Micah could see that there was something in Arthur’s other hand. A piece of paper. The letter from that morning.

Arthur was the first to speak. “You’re up late.” Micah shrugged, “so are you.”

“I… I was with someone in town… Someone I… Uh…” Arthur trailed off. It looked like it pained him to think about it, let alone say it. “Someone I was courtin’ a long time ago.” Micah let himself smirk. “What happened? She kick you out for the night once you were done?” “No.” Arthur replied, almost hotly, “It ain’t like that. She ain’t like that.”

Arthur’s voice wavered slightly. Micah had never heard him speak so earnestly or even speak this long, he usually spoke to Micah in short grunts like some farmyard animal.

Arthur continued, “she… Well, she was never really right for me. Too good for me. I proposed a long time ago. She turned me down o’ course. We was just kids really.”

Micah didn't say anything, he got the feeling that Arthur didn’t really want his input but rather just needed someone to listen to him.

“Anyway, her daddy didn’t like me.” Micah scoffed, “what do daddies know?” Arthur smiled weakly and drank from his whiskey bottle before continuing. “Maybe he was right. She weren’t made for this life. Sometimes I wonder if anyone really is…”

Arthur stared into the fire. Micah stared at Arthur.

“Anyway. She left a letter for me and o’ course, I went rushin’ over to her like the prize idiot I am… Knew she’s married now but, well, he’s gone. Pneumonia or somethin’; bad business. So she’s a widow now. Some stupid part o’ me thought maybe this was her givin’ me another chance now we’re both older.”

He stared into the fire sadly and took another swig from the bottle.

“Turns out she just wanted an errand boy, someone to do her dirty work for her… She knew I was fool enough to do whatever she wants. Maybe ‘cause part of me thinks we still got a chance even though I know she ain’t about this life and I ain’t exactly the type to buy a ranch and live honestly… Sometimes I wonder if… If I’m the sorta person that can… Be loved…” Arthur let himself trail off. They sat in silence for a few minutes save the crackling of the fire.

Micah had never heard Arthur talk this way, not to anyone. Part of Micah had assumed that Arthur just didn’t have that in him. A big, brawny brute who was emotionally stunted. But now Micah saw the pain on Arthur’s handsome features and he hurt too, in a way.

“You can't go forcin’ somethin’ if it ain’t right.” Micah said, his voice taking on an alien, gentle quality. It took Arthur by surprise, he looked up at him now. The fire reflected in his eyes. Micah had thought he was more drunk than he looked but the way he looked at Micah told him different.

Micah watched the fire dance in those great blue orbs. Neither of them said anything but Micah knew. Micah knew what was going to happen and he was fully prepared to let it despite the fact that they were in the middle of the camp, despite the fact that if Dutch were to come out of his tent, if Javier who was sleeping just a few feet away was to wake, they’d be seen. But Micah let it happen anyway. He was powerless.

Arthur moved his head closer and they kissed. Arthur let the letter tumble from his fingers into the mud as he reached for Micah, one hand on his face the other he lay almost hesitantly on his chest. Micah reciprocated. He let his eyes close, let his lips move on their own, let Arthur’s tongue slip into his mouth and rub gently against his own so he could taste the whiskey he had just drunk. Micah felt his head spinning, like he was drunk too. All he could hear was the fire crackling, feel the warmth of Arthur’s hands on him and smell the musk from the swell of the younger man’s chest. Consuming. Intoxicating. He brought his hands up, running them through Arthur’s soft, fawn hair and Arthur made a sound, a sigh, a moan that Micah echoed back to him.

And before he knew it, Arthur had pulled away but his hands were still on Micah. Still, neither of them spoke. Micah let Arthur stand and guide him away from the main camp, behind Arthur’s own tent and into the treeline.

Micah was eager to kiss again and Arthur allowed him to once they were a suitable distance from the camp. Micah let Arthur grope him through his clothes, let Arthur’s fingers work at the buttons on his pants and slip his hands inside, palming his already semi hard cock. Micah let out a shaky gasp into Arthur’s mouth, the stubble from his beard scratching his skin, the smell of tobacco on his shirt filled up his lungs.

Micah’s fingers were quick to unbutton Arthur’s pants, too and take his cock in hand. He was hard and Micah could feel it pulse beneath his fingertips, the tip leaked with precum and Micah tugged on it making Arthur growl into his mouth. A growl that sent a pang of excitement throughout his body. Arthur reciprocated and the pair jerked each other, kissing hard, Micah pressing his hips against Arthur’s who rocked his back in response, drawing breathy moans from Micah.

Micah wasn't sure if it was the lust or the liquor or maybe both but he wasn’t going to question it. He also wasn’t going to admit that he had wanted this again, so so badly.

Arthur shifted, spitting on his palm before resting his weight on a tree behind him so he could take both of their erections in his hand and stroke them together.

Micah couldn’t stop himself letting out a guttural moan. It was unlike anything he’d ever felt before. The soft skin of Arthur’s cock against his own, hot and throbbing paired with Arthur’s slicked hand was an unprecedented type of bliss.

Micah’s legs shook and he could barely stand, Arthur let him lean forwards, able to support them both as Micah clung to him, hips fucking into Arthur’s palm as he stifled his moans and swore under his breath each time Arthur’s hand ran the length of his shaft, rough thumb swiped over his slit or reached down to gently tug on his balls.

Arthur kissed him to silence him and soon, Micah found himself rutting erratically, panting into Arthur’s open mouth, unable to concentrate on anything other than chasing his release.

He came in ropes, shuddering against Arthur. Micah’s release served as lubrication as Arthur continued to stroke, his hand in a vice-like grip around both of their lengths, Micah now trembling and whimpering pathetically through overstimulation. Arthur let out a low rumble in his chest as he came too, Micah could feel his cock pulsating against his own as Arthur leant back against the tree, eyes closed, wrapped in euphoria, hips thrusting more shallow now until he stilled.

Arthur let Micah stay leaning against him while they caught their breath. It was definitely the liquor that led Arthur to kissing Micah again, this time almost chastely before he moved away, buttoned his pants up and retired to his cot.

Micah sat on the edge of camp, he could see Arthur curled up asleep on his cot. After the buzz from his orgasm died down, he felt hollow. As much as he had wanted it, he knew he’d made a terrible mistake.

Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. Fool me three times..?

 ****

 Arthur slept in the next day but Micah had already left by the time he woke. Dutch had approached him after he had eaten breakfast.

“Micah, I know you’re eager to get our money back and I commend you for it, son but it ain’t gonna be that easy.” He said. Micah half shrugged, half nodded. He was exhausted. Dutch didn’t seem to notice, he continued. “I just think… It’s better to chase new opportunities - always more money to be made, this is America after all… I know you got your heart set on the Blackwater money - I did too. But… I just don’t want no one else to get hurt or worse. Y’understand?” “Yes, boss.” Came Micah’s swift reply. “Good,” Dutch said with a hint of a smile. “In that case, I want you to go out scoutin’ west a bit but not too close to Blackwater. See what opportunities you can find. Take young Lenny with you.” “Lenny?” Micah repeated.

 Micah didn’t not like Lenny Summers, he was indifferent at best. Lenny was the youngest member of the gang at just nineteen years of age - just a boy. Micah could almost smell the breast milk on the kid’s breath; he was young and inexperienced. They just didn’t suit each other.

But Micah knew it was best not to argue with Dutch Van Der Linde and so found himself riding out back west way again with young Lenny in tow. Lenny chattered and Micah barely listened, too busy thinking of the night before and Arthur, Arthur, Arthur.

They came across a small place called Strawberry, a dry town with not much going on - a lead that there was a man at the post office willing to pay them to sabotage stagecoaches but it was small fry. They needed to make up for all that money lost in Blackwater, all $150,000 of it. A stagecoach wasn’t going to give them that.

Later that day they found a saloon outside of Strawberry and as with all saloons, they also found trouble. Micah recognised someone there, a man he knew as ‘Skinny’. Skinny had screwed him out of money a while back, just after he lost his other crew to Sisika. Micah was the sort of person to hold grudges and so went to ‘talk’ to Skinny.

Lenny warned him against it, which Micah had shaken off - ”you worry too much, kid.”

But maybe this time, the kid was right. Micah had drank far too much whiskey already in a bid to numb some of the confusion he’d been feeling all day in regards to Arthur and whatever the hell it was they kept doing together…

Had he been sober, there may not have been a fight. Had he been sober, he might have been quick enough to escape the law. Had he been sober, he might not have been arrested and thrown in the Strawberry jail.

 ****

 Micah woke up feeling like he'd been mown down by one of those stagecoaches he thought he was too good to hold up. His head hurt and he didn't remember how, when or why he got there.

Micah had been in jails worse than this before - always managed to get himself out somehow. They hadn’t gotten his name and didn’t know he was part of Dutch’s gang so he was sure he’d be let out sooner or later… There was an O’Driscoll in the cell with him who was as drunk as a skunk and blathered on about a banking stage him and his boys were planning on hitting. Micah ignored him for the most part. He was hung over and he could feel that he had a black eye but he wasn’t sure from where.

He found himself slipping into an uneasy sleep.

He was standing outside of the barn again, staring at the peeling red paint. He knew what would be inside if he went through the doors. He didn’t want to go through the doors. He didn’t want to see it again. There was the voice. It was always here. Always screeching at him. “Prove it! Prove it to me, ya yella bellied son of a bitch! He walked slowly to the barn door, laid his hand on the wood, it was warm from the summer sun. He remembered the heat. Remembered how it made the blood smell…

“Do it now! Prove to me you ain’t a pussy like that no-good brother o’ yours!”

 He jolted awake forgetting where he was. The O'Driscoll snored on the cold floor of the cell beside him. Micah took a breath. He hoped that Lenny had enough brains to go and get help.

And help came, eventually, in the form of Arthur Morgan.

 Micah had been sitting at the window of the jail, leaning his face against the bars which cooled his swollen eye when he spotted Arthur sauntering over to him. He looked like he’d had a haircut and a shave, maybe even a bath. His hair was trimmed now, off of his neck where before it had been longer, his beard also gone. He’d replaced his blue shirt with a black one. He looked good and Micah cursed himself for thinking so.

You can do a lot of thinking in jail and Micah had thought of nothing but their encounter at the camp - what had it meant? Why had Arthur allowed it again if he had said it was nothing before? Micah knew the trail was lonely, men would lay with other men, hell even cattle if that was the only thing available.. But Micah wasn’t the only thing available. Not thirty minutes north was Valentine full of working girls if Arthur wanted to relieve himself. Why did they keep coming back to each other?

“Hello old friend, have a good time, did you?” Arthur asked, smirking as he sidled up to the side of the building. “You gonna get me outta here, Morgan?” Micah asked, a hint of desperation about his tone. Arthur paused before answering, taking the time to put a cigarette between his plump lips, strike a match then light the smoke. “I ain’t decided yet.” “Real funny.” Micah replied, rolling his eyes. “Oh, I ain’t joking, cowpoke.” Arthur replied as he exhaled smoke. “I’ve heard so much bluster outta your mouth the last six months and now I got an opportunity to watch you be silenced.”

Micah’s eyes widened. If he didn’t know better, he’d have thought that Arthur was joking. It seemed like such a juxtaposition to the man he had been kissing just a couple of days ago who had sounded so vulnerable and sorrowful.... “You- you gotta do something!” Micah replied. Would Arthur really leave him to languish here? That wasn’t the Arthur Morgan Micah knew at all. “Why?” Arthur asked, his voice low and rumbling. Micah’s pale eyes met Arthur’s. “I… I thought…” He stammered uncharacteristically and shot a glance back at the O’Driscoll who was still asleep. “I thought, well, y’know..?”

Micah looked at Arthur pointedly. Surely, he hadn’t forgotten the other night. Arthur shook his head quickly. “I told ya, I ain’t gonna talk ‘bout that ever again. Y’understand? It was a mistake.” “A mistake that happened three times? Sure, cowpoke.” Micah found himself saying hotly. “You shut your mouth or I will leave you here to rot, Micah, so help me I will.” Arthur looked away from Micah in the jail cell before saying, “don’t be mistaken, I’m only here because Dutch asked me. Nothin’ else.” Micah didn’t say anything. He glared at Arthur. Hated that he was drawn to him when he was such a self righteous prick almost all of the time.

Arthur used dynamite to blast the wall of the jail away. It was a loud and brash technique that suited Arthur. The lawmen up in the jailhouse were alerted immediately and Arthur handed Micah a revolver to protect himself from what was about to come. Micah didn’t know whether it was because of what Arthur had said, acting like nothing had happened but he suddenly saw red as lawmen descended upon them. Micah found himself shooting up the town as if his life depended on it. Arthur followed him, shouting after him, “what the hell are you doing?! Let’s just get out of here!” But Micah felt rage boiling over inside of him, rage because he had let Arthur do as he pleased and he felt used, he felt stupid. And now Arthur was being sent to save him, smirking at him like he was some little bitch. Micah would have preferred anyone coming to his rescue, anyone other than Arthur. “Have you lost your goddamn mind, Micah?!” Arthur was calling after him as Micah made his way through Strawberry firing on anything or anyone who resembled a lawman. “Calm yourself woman,” Micah spat at Arthur, “we’ll be fine.” “You have really lost it this time!” Micah felt a rush of adrenaline in a gunfight. He didn’t know if others did but there was little else that got him excited or made him feel as alive as bullets whistling past him. He got a thrill out of dodging and weaving, out of hunkering down then waiting for an opening to make that perfect headshot. Maybe it was something he’d learned from his daddy - the only times his daddy’d been proud of him was when he was unloading a chamber of bullets into someone’s chest. Together, Arthur and Micah were a force to be reckoned with - both excellent shots and efficient. They made short work of the lawmen and were able to make their escape. There was a lull eventually, Micah stood in the middle of the small town, chest heaving covered in sweat and blood - some his and some not. Arthur stared at him incredulously. “Come on,” Arthur growled at him, marching over to him as he unhitched his horse, a Missouri Foxtrotter like Baylock only Arthur’s was dapple grey. “Get on,” Arthur ordered, “before I shoot you, too.” Micah let himself chuckle. This almost felt normal. “Whatever you say, sweetheart.” Micah wasn’t worried about Baylock, he was a clever horse who would have returned to camp once Micah didn’t come for him. Arthur mounted up and reached down to pull Micah up too. Micah ignored the sparks he felt at Arthur’s touch.

Arthur spurred the horse onwards and they tore out of Strawberry. There were already reinforcements on their tail; with one hand, Micah held onto Arthur’s waist and with the other he shot at the lawmen. He pushed down all the thoughts he had about holding onto Arthur and being this close to him, close enough to smell him, close enough to press his lips to the nape of Arthur’s neck just to hear him sigh and watch him shiver. “Goddamn maniac,” Arthur snapped at him as they rode past Rigg’s Station, “I shoulda left you to hang.” Micah smirked. That was the Arthur he knew, not the sad drunk at the campfire. “Wouldn’t you get bored without me?” He asked playfully. Arthur grunted but didn’t reply. “That was some good shootin’ back there - gotta hand it to ya, Morgan.” “What was that you pulled back there?!” Arthur called back to him, not letting up on the speed though it seemed like the law was gone now. “Got a bit wild, that’s for sure.” Micah mused, not wanting to have to explain himself. “Wild!?” Arthur repeated, sounding dumbfounded.

Micah didn’t say anything else. He didn’t know what exactly had come over him and he wasn’t about to spill his guts and feelings to Arthur Morgan. Not now, anyway. Maybe if things had been different... If Arthur hadn’t acted like nothing had happened... “You owe Lenny,” Arthur told him sternly, “if he hadn’t found us in time… Well…” “You’ll all be thanked profusely. I promise.” Micah retorted. “You’re lucky Dutch has got your back for some unknown reason.” Arthur said coldly. Arthur slowed his horse down now. Micah still rested his hand on Arthur’s waist, the anger subsided giving way to something else but he didn’t understand it. He felt his chest tighten but different this time. It was dull, it throbbed and ached like he wanted to howl in pain. “Take me back to my camp.” Micah said to Arthur, “it’s at Monto’s Rest.” “You ain’t comin’ back to Horseshoe Overlook?” Arthur asked, surprised. He turned his head to look at Micah over his shoulder. Micah didn’t want to meet his eye. “No. I’ve been a bad boy, Morgan. Dutch ain’t gonna be happy with me. I’ll let him cool off or bring him a peace offering.”

Arthur rode to Monto’s Rest - Micah had set up camp there with Lenny before they went to the saloon. Baylock was waiting for him. Micah slipped off of Arthur’s horse and went to Baylock. There wasn’t much he cared about in life but his horse was one of them. “Hey,” he greeted the Foxtrotter gently and patted him on the muzzle, “what a clever boy you are.”

 Arthur hovered awkwardly, not getting off of his horse but not leaving immediately either. He watched as Micah spoke softly to Baylock and fed him some hay: “you must be hungry, boy. Micah looked back to Arthur, puzzled. He’d half expected Arthur to make him walk back to his camp after that performance in Strawberry and he certainly hadn’t expected Arthur to hang around.

Why was Micah’s heart beating so hard in his chest?

“I…” Arthur started and Micah looked up at him, head to one side, “I’m glad Lenny got to us in time.”

Micah saw the flush play across Arthur’s cheeks and his blue-green eyes looked bright, just like they had done before. What was this? Not half an hour ago, he had said he’d leave Micah in that cell, he’d berated him for shooting his way out of town and now… Now he was saying he was happy that Micah was ok?

“Why…. why don’t you stay?” Micah found himself asking and he hated himself for it. Micah also hated how he had to crane his neck to look up at Arthur on his horse.

The night had drawn in now and Arthur’s features were shrouded by darkness but his eyes shimmered as they settled on Micah’s. Micah thought for a moment that he could see Arthur considering his proposition of staying. Whether it was just for a drink or for the night, Micah wasn't sure if he cared, he just wasn't ready for Arthur to leave just yet. Didn't want to be on his own again.

He hated how he became needy around Arthur. He’d been so angry at him but now he couldn’t be.

“I…” Arthur started, hesitating. “I should get back.” He said, looking away as he spoke.

It was all Micah could do but to bite his lip to stop him calling after Arthur as he turned his horse around to leave; it took all his will to stop him begging Arthur to stay with him.

He already felt his neck flushing with embarrassment. What the hell was he doing? This wasn’t him! Simpering after Morgan out of everyone..!

He hated himself more and more and more.

So he rode into Valentine a short while afterwards, drank too much whiskey and fucked the first whore who spoke to him.

The whore wasn’t the best lay in his life but she wasn't bad either. She wasn't Arthur though.

 ****

Micah woke up in the rented room above the Valentine bar the next morning. Light streamed in through the window and the whore was long gone.

Micah groaned and rolled over. He was naked, still had blood on him from the jailbreak the day before. He didn’t want to think about that or think about Arthur. He cleaned himself up and dressed, going downstairs to the bar. He needed food - he couldn’t remember the last time he had eaten anything.

He ordered eggs, flapjacks and coffee. He sat at a table away from the main doors trying to let his pounding head subside. If he closed his eyes he saw Arthur, saw the blood from the lawmen in Strawberry, saw the peeling paint of the barn door…

“Micah Bell..? I never thought I’d see you again, let alone in Valentine of all places..!”

Micah’s head jerked up and his eyes were greeted with the sight of a well dressed man around the same age as him, tall and slender with a shock of red hair and vibrant green eyes that sparkled mischievously with a boyish charm as they met Micah’s.

“Clinton Jones?”

“The very same! How the hell are you!” Clinton asked, pulling up a chair and sitting at the table beside Micah. Micah found himself uncharacteristically lost for words as he stared into those dazzling emerald eyes. Clinton seemed nonplussed at his old friend’s silence. “Let me buy you a drink! It’s been how many years..?” “Too many,” Micah replied rather bluntly. He was taken aback. Hadn’t seen Clinton since he was a boy. Back then, they had been very close but since Micah took off on his own, Micah had pushed those memories down.

“How’s Emily?” Clinton asked Micah. “Amy.” Micah corrected him, a sudden jolt carved through him like a knife. “She… She passed away.” “Oh. I’m sorry to hear that,” Clinton said, though he didn’t sound it at all.

Micah found himself speechless at being presented with his past so suddenly and unexpectedly. A working girl set Micah’s food down before him and he began to eat, a distraction from having to make small talk with a childhood friend.

“What are you doing out this way?” Clinton asked Micah, watching him attentively. Micah shrugged casually, “jus’ this and that. You know how it is, Clint.” Clinton laughed softly, “been years since anyone called me that. It’s Clinton these days… Or Agent Jones.”

Micah didn’t show that a jolt of panic ran through him. He had known Clinton had been interested in joining the law when they were younger - not wanting to follow a life of crime and urging Micah to do the same. But Micah couldn’t, his daddy’d never let him. And then after what happened out in Ohio there was no going back, Clinton knew that.

“I work with the Pinkertons now, Micah.” Clinton said, almost gently as if he wanted to soften the blow. “It’s what you wanted.” Micah replied, not meeting Clinton’s eye now. Clinton moved a little closer to Micah now, dropping his voice as he spoke, “even me just sittin’ here with you is a risk, especially after what happened with your daddy.” Micah’s eyes darted up to Clinton’s. “I never told no one about you, Micah. I swear.”

Micah stopped eating. Had he not been Micah Bell III, his hands might have shook as he held the cutlery and he might have been worried about just how convenient it was that Agent Clinton Jones of the Pinkerton Detective Agency, former close friend of Micah Bell, just happened to have tracked him down to Valentine, especially after all that chaos he had caused in Strawberry.

Perhaps Micah had not been as anonymous as he had thought back in that small, Strawberry jail.

“Thanks.” Micah said. “That’s what friends are for - helpin’ each other.” Clinton said with a smile, “maybe you could help me, Micah..? ‘Parently, there’s a bunch of people out this way - outlaws - just robbed a ferry in Blackwater and then a train owned by Mister Leviticus Cornwall. Maybe you heard about it?”

“Can't say I have.” Micah replied smoothly, picking his knife and fork up again and resuming his breakfast, “you know me, Clint… I ain’t really one for reading the newspaper.”

That wasn’t the answer Clinton had wanted as he moved his head further still, his smile diminished but still playing on his lips like someone who knew they had a royal flush in poker. “Listen, Micah. I don’t wanna be coy. Dutch Van Der Linde is a wanted man and I want to help put him behind bars.” Micah shrugged, slurping at his coffee in a purposefully obnoxious way. “I think think I’ve heard o’ him but… I’m afraid I can’t help you old friend.”

Micah went to stand now and Clinton followed suit. “Micah!” He followed Micah to the doors of the saloon rather desperately now, “Micah, I know you know somethin’. You was seen with Van Der Linde out west. Now I came to you without tellin’ no one because I still… Well… We was close once.”

Micah hesitated as he walked to the hitching post. “We was.” Micah conceded, not looking at Clinton now. “Long time ago now, Clint. Long time ago.” “Don’t mean that it didn’t happen or that it didn’t mean anything.”

Micah let his hat hide the expression on his face. He hadn’t thought about Clinton Jones for twenty years. Many people had come and gone since then.

“Clint…We was kids.” “I don’t wanna have to resort to blackmail. I thought, maybe you’d still have some sort of fondness left… Thought you’d want to help an old friend out - you scratch my back, I scratch yours?” Micah turned back to Clinton now. He searched his face not knowing if he could trust him. When could you ever trust a Pinkerton?

“They’d still be interested in you after what happened in Ohio, you know. They got your daddy but as far as I know, that bounty’s still out on your head.” “Clint-” Micah started, shaking his head. “I won’t tell ‘em a thing, I swear… If you help me, Micah. I can guarantee your freedom. And money, too - Dutch has a pretty price on his head.” Micah’s face stayed stony. Clinton reached into his inside jacket pocket and held out a sheet of paper to Micah. It was Dutch’s bounty poster. Micah took it without looking at it.

“Just think about it, Micah. I’ll be in touch.”

[macaronsforchat]

Ladynoir July Day 13 - Cuddles

@ladynoirjuly2020

read on ao3!

“I’m gonna detransform, okay?”

Those four words brought her back to reality, back to where she was standing, back to how tense she felt.

“A-are you sure? You wouldn’t rather sleep in your suit?” she asked, laughing nervously. He smiled knowingly, shaking his head a little. She watched the hair bounce on his head, biting her tongue and wondering how she’d gotten herself into such a situation.

“I have my mask on underneath, m’lady. Everything is going to be fine,” he smiled, and she wanted to believe him even though her heart was beating out of control. She slowly nodded, letting him know that he could go ahead, and his smile widened.

“Plagg, claws in,” he spoke gently, and the words made her stomach do a flip, her hands coming up to cover her eyes in panic. She squeaked, squeezing them shut behind her hands just in case.

Ladybug heard him laughing and then start moving closer. Plagg grumbled something, but she was too busy trying to drown out her deafening thoughts to be able to make it out.

“Hey, it’s just me,” he said, trying to reassure her. Despite all the years they’d spent together fighting evil, she was still just an anxious teen when she got scared.

She felt his hands, his bare hands, wrap around her wrists gently. She let him pull the shield away from her face even though she was still freaking out. She trusted him, and if he said it would be okay, it would be.

Blinking her eyes open once more, she was met with the face of her partner, of Chat Noir. The only thing that had changed was that he wasn’t wearing a tight black suit and instead had opted for some Ladybug-themed pajamas. Other than that, it was the face of her best friend, and seeing his warm smile for her calmed her nerves.

“Think you’ll be okay, bugaboo? Or am I too handsome?” he asked, a smirk replacing his kind smile. She squinted her eyes at him, shaking his hands from her wrists and scoffing.

“Keep dreaming,” she said, turning her head a little to try and hide the fact that his comment had made her blush slightly.

“Speaking of dreaming, you should detransform too. I don’t know about you,” he started, a yawn interrupting him and drawing her eyes back to him. It was unfair of him to be so cute when he was tired, but she tried to reason that she’d seen him like that before so there was no reason for her to be so enamored. Then again, if it distracted her from being so scared about detransforming, maybe it wasn't so bad that he was utterly adorable.

“But I’m wiped,” he finished, eyeing her and making her look away again quickly. She cleared her throat, glancing around the hotel room and shrugging to feign nonchalance.

“Yeah, I’m pretty tired too,” she said, seeing him stretching out of the corner of her eye.

“Got your mask on?” he wondered, and she bit her bottom lip nervously, nodding. “Whenever you’re ready then,” he said, moving to his side of the bed and pulling the covers back, shooting her a glance every few seconds.

She took a deep breath, slightly surprised that she didn’t mind if he was watching her.

“Tikki, spots off,” she breathed out, feeling her protective suit disappear from her body. She watched her kwami float up and land in her hands, the two of them smiling at each other before Tikki floated over to join Plagg.  

Marinette pressed her mask against the skin around her eyes, making sure that it was there and that it was going to stay on. Looking back at him, she was surprised when she saw his mouth open in shock.

“W-what?” she asked anxiously, looking down at her clothes. She’d decided to wear the official Chat Noir merchandise instead of any other pajamas she owned, just in case. It was just a pair of leggings and a tank top, but suddenly she felt underdressed beneath his piercing stare. Or overdressed. She couldn’t tell with all the thoughts bouncing around in her head.

“Nothing, just…” he trailed off, looking away from her and sliding under the covers of the bed. “Care to join me?” he asked, trying to change the subject. He offered her a small smirk, his cheeks slightly pink, and she scowled at him.

“If you’re gonna be cheeky, I can leave,” she said flatly, hooking a thumb towards the door and watching him laugh.

“Just kidding,” he spoke lightly, flopping his head down on his pillow and making his hair more disheveled (and cute) than it already was.

The bed was a whole other situation that she’d been stressed about. There was nothing sexual about it, but being so close to him without either of their suits was still nerve-wracking. It was a closeness they hadn’t shared yet, and she was scared that she’d mess it up by being too nervous. And that only made her more nervous.

But she swallowed her anxieties and walked over, pulling the covers over herself and lying on her side to face Chat. He blinked at her, smiling like she’d given him a compliment that he’d been waiting to hear. She gave him a small smile back, biting her tongue when he yawned and twisted his body towards the nightstand on his side of the bed.

“D’you mind if I turn the lamp off?” he asked. She shook her head, and a gentle clicking noise doused the room in darkness. He got comfortable again, from the sound of the rustling, and then he breathed out slowly through his nose.

“So, tell me about your day,” he said, the volume of his voice lowering. She felt a little more comfortable in the dark. She couldn’t see that he was out of his suit, but hearing his voice so close to her with strong hints of drowsiness in it made her stomach do somersaults. She found herself confused by the fact that she wished the air conditioner were a little quieter so that she could hear him even more clearly.

“I thought you were tired,” she replied, pulling the covers up under her chin as goosebumps raced across her skin.

“I am,” he chuckled. “But you can lull me to sleep with your voice.” She snickered at that, trying not to clue him in on how much his voice was cut out for putting her to sleep. Well, if she weren’t so on edge.

“Fine,” she said lightly, hearing him hum happily. She smiled to herself and thought about her day, already having a few things on her mental list that she’d marked down as things she could tell him.

“School was as enjoyable as school can be,” she started, and he hummed, the noise leading into a short laugh. “Oh, but I had a good lunch today. I tried out that guacamole from that store you told me about,” she told him, and he gasped dramatically.

“It’s bomb, right?” he asked, and she laughed, remembering the taste well.

“Yeah, it was fantastic,” she smiled.

“What else?” he prompted. She pursed her lips, humming.

“Why don’t you tell me about your day?” she asked, genuinely curious.

“That’s no fun,” he whined. “I like listening to you talk.” She’d heard that line a thousand times, but never had she been so grateful that she was able to hide her blush. She knew she couldn’t argue with him, so she took another breath and went back to thinking.

“Okay, uh, oh. I made my coffee way too sweet this morning because I was so tired,” she said, and he hummed lightly, telling her to keep going.

“I got a papercut,” she said, remembering how worried Adrien had seemed when she winced in pain during fourth period.

“Where?” Chat asked, and she blinked, running her thumb over the middle of her index finger.

“My left hand,” she told him, hearing him moving before feeling his warm fingers reaching out towards her. Her left hand was extended in front of her, so he found it easily, holding it gently. She felt her heart spring up in her chest, but she didn’t expect him to lean down and kiss her knuckles a few times. Her shoulders tensed up, and she held her breath, feeling like she might explode if he kept going.

“What else?” he asked between pressing kisses to her hand.

“I think I’m all out,” she said quickly, feeling her cheek burning into the pillow.

“You sure? I was just about to doze off,” he sighed teasingly, leaving her hand to tingle from the pressure of his lips.

“Then you should sleep,” she said, breathing out a light laugh.

“Ahh, you’re no fun,” he whined again, and she smiled.

“I know, kitty. You never let me forget it,” she joked, and they both laughed. When their voices went silent, neither one of them spoke up again. His hand was still holding hers, and after a few minutes passed, she heard his breathing slow down and even out.

Marinette tried to calm her thoughts, but with her hand in his, she didn’t know if that was possible. She had tried not to think about snuggling up to Chat Noir when she thought about that night, but it lingered in the back of her mind no matter what she did. She felt safe with him, and knowing what it felt like to be completely enveloped by his arms was something a deep part of her longed to experience.

After biting her tongue for a moment, she called his name quietly to see if he was still awake. She waited, hearing that he was still breathing deeply and slowly. He must have been telling the truth about being wiped out.

Wishing that she would have talked to him for a little longer, she wiggled her fingers out of his grasp, wanting to let him sleep peacefully. But as soon as she had, she missed the warmth of his touch, and she found herself wondering what it would be like to really hold his hand.

Marinette pushed her hand back into his, intertwining their fingers and feeling a breath hitch in her throat. His hand was larger than hers, she’d known that, but somehow their fingers fit perfectly together. His fingers gently came down to rest against her knuckles, and it felt like they belonged there, against her skin.

She let her eyes fall closed until his hand twitched and he inhaled suddenly.

“M’lady?” he asked, trying to speak up but only getting his words out in a rough whisper. “Did I fall asleep?”

“Yeah, sorry,” she said quietly, moving to take her hand away. But he kept it there, tightening his hand around hers and making her freeze.

“I wanted to do this too,” he said, and she blinked at him in the darkness. “But I didn’t want to ask and embarrass you.” She let herself smile, shifting her hand back into his more and squeezing it. He breathed out quickly, and she knew from that sound that he was smiling, the warmth from it tickling her fingers. It made her shiver a little, and she realized how cold she was compared to him.

“Chat?” she called without really thinking.

“Yeah?” he answered, and she frowned, pressing her lips together.

“Ah...nevermind,” she said, and he squeezed her hand a little.

“Tell me,” he urged softly.

“You’re really warm,” she said, mentally face-palming and wanting to groan. That wasn’t what she’d wanted to say. At least, not all of it.

“Is my hand too hot?” he asked, and she snickered.

“No,” she said quickly. “I’m just pretty cold right now.”

“Do you want me to turn the air down?” he offered, and she furrowed her eyebrows, blushing.

“No, it’s okay,” she said.

“Do you want an extra blanket?” he asked, and she wanted to laugh, wondering if she should have said anything at all. How could she get it across to him?

“No,” was all she could say, and he chuckled cluelessly. She scrunched up her nose and took a deep breath, reaching forward with her free hand and finding his chest, pinching a small section of his shirt.

“I want to be closer,” she said plainly, hearing him go to speak, but nothing came out. She squeezed her eyes shut, wishing she were more eloquent and not so nervous.

Without saying a word, he pulled himself closer to her, their hands still intertwined between them. Her heart was already running a marathon, but he’d only moved a little.

“Like this?” he asked, his voice shaky. She blinked at the nervousness showing through in his voice and wondered why it made her feel braver.

She let go of his shirt, sliding across the mattress until she could feel his ragged breaths on her cheek. At that point, she let go of his hand, using both arms to wrap herself around him into a tight hug. It was a lot at once, and she could feel his heart pounding against her, but she was grinning like an idiot as she pressed her cheek to his shoulder.

After a heavy moment, he slid his arms around her too, one resting across her lower back and the other reaching under her arm and crossing over the space between her shoulder blades.

Marinette wasn’t cold anymore, burying herself in the heat of his body and not letting go. They didn’t say another word, but she didn’t mind.

Eventually, she found herself beginning to doze off, after he’d snuzzled his face into her neck and after she’d hooked a leg over him to pull herself even closer.

She was in the arms of the one she loved most, and she’d never been more comfortable.

~~~~~

this made me so happy to write ahhhhh

thank you all so much for reading! i love you all!! <3

stay safe! 

[immortalcoelacanth]

PTA: Science Team (HLVRAI Fic 1/3)

*pulls dusty story out of garage and drops it into Tumblr*

I have been trying to finish the first chapter for AGES, and I finally got it done! I crave PTA AU content due to the wholesomeness and angst, and I just had to work on one short fic for this fandom. So, welcome to the first chapter out of three!

Word count: 1788

Summary: PTA meetings are a sham and no one hates them more than Gordon, but upon being forced to miss a “mandatory” meeting because of work, Benrey comes up with a brilliant idea to deal with this problem.

Chapter 1: Hostile Arrangements Require Equally Hostile Solutions

“Fuck! Shit! Okay-okay, I’ll just-motherfucker she did what?!”

Cursing was in Gordon’s nature. He often used it as a way to express his angry, dismay, shock, and all sorts of other negative emotions. As such it was not unusual to see pacing about and spitting insults left and right. 

What was unusual, however, was the fact that he was cursing in his own home. He had a strict swearing free zone in effect as a way to stop Joshua from picking up on any foul language, including a swear jar that tended to fill up whenever Bubby visited. It was quite fortunate that Joshua was currently being distracted by Benrey as the pair had been playing video games together for the past hour or so. 

Or they had been until, in a surprising display of stealth, Benrey crept out of the young boy’s room and slowly approached the frustrated Gordon. 

Gordon, who was currently continuing to quietly yell into his cell phone. 

“Are you kidding me?! I was scheduled for a meeting on the weekend! I have work tonight! How in the FUCK did she-”

“psssst, hey, hey feetman. you might wanna chill out there and, uh, stuff. turn down the volume.” Benrey cut in while pointing the tv remote at Gordon and clicking the volume button. “don’t wanna be a bad boy and teach joshie any naughty words.” 

“Shut the fuck up.” Gordon sighed, no real anger in his voice before redirecting his attention back to the phone call. “No, not you Natasha, it was just Benrey-”

“tell tasha her cookies are baller.”

“Wha-baller? Who the fuck says baller anymore?!” 

“c’moooooooon man, be a bro.”

“Natasha I am so sorry-tell her that yourself!”

“i can’t feeman, you know i don’t have a phone.”

“YOU WERE THE ONE WHO STUCK IT IN THE MICROWAVE!”

“i-i was just chagrin’ the battery with those radio waves, man. ads… they never lie.”

Laughter could be heard coming from the phone in response to the conversation going on between the two men. It was enough to snap Gordon out of his somewhat enraged state and refocus on whatever it was that Natasha was telling him. He gestured for Benrey to leave and only succeeded in shooing the ex-guard to the kitchen so he could have some peace. 

Not that the peace lasted long based on the muttered cursing and general sounds of Gordon stomping around. 

About ten minutes later, the frustrated physicist joined him in the kitchen, quickly making himself a cup of coffee and grumbling under his breath. Welp, looked like this was the perfect moment for some interrogation. 

“soooooo, wha was that about?” Benrey asked as he took another bite of the block of cheese he had been digging into. If you asked him, he’d say it tasted pretty gouda.

Damn, he needed to torment Gordon with more puns again. 

“Fucking-” Gordon exhaled sharply and ran a hand through his messy hair, too angry to noticed how Benrey reached out and gently pulled at some of the locks, watching them bounce and resume their previously curly shape. “Linda.”

Well, there went his good mood. 

Benrey’s eyes immediately narrowed, becoming nothing more than glowing slits in his shadowy face, as a disgruntled frown replaced his previous smile. Even the cheese in his hand seemed to start burning, smoke wafting off it as it began to melt in response to the sheer anger that name invoked in him. 

Linda Smith, the scourge of the neighborhood and one of the most uptight, pieces of shit that Benrey had ever encountered. A narcissist with a massive superiority complex, she constantly put down everyone around her who she thought of as being inferior.

Which was just a cover for how much of a racist shitwad she was, plus there were the various comments she made about fags invading the neighborhood.

An obvious insult aimed at not just Gordon and Benrey, but the other “not normal” couples that lived here and there. Poor Joshua had overheard some of the insults on multiple occasions, and she had called the kid a mutt to his face-

“Benrey? You wanna calm down before you poke holes in the ceiling again?”

Fortunately, Gordon’s exasperated voice snapped Benrey out of his enraged state before he accidentally inflicted more damage to the kitchen. A place that had seen many, many small explosions and fires. At this point, he towered over the other man as sharpened, boney spikes poked out of his back and scrapped the ceiling. Plaster fell and dusted the countertop. 

“oops, s-sorry dude.” Benrey awkwardly shrugged, flesh dripping from his arms and face in a rather gruesome display, not that Gordon was bothered by this. He was used to how… horrific his partner could become. 

Especially when someone mentioned Joshua being hurt or insulted in any way. It was actually quite wholesome thinking about how much Benrey cared about the young boy and how much their friendship had bloomed since they first met. 

“I get it.” Gordon sighed. “She’s such a bitch she’d make anyone Hulk out.”

“ten points for the ref there, feetman.”

The physicist somewhat seriously flipped Benrey off, making him laugh, before continuing to rant about the purpose of the now finished phone call. 

“I still can’t believe that stupid school listened to her, and I’m not the only one getting fucked over here!” He spat. “I can’t just drop out-”

It was at this moment that the source of Gordon’s rage dawned on Benrey, and the ex-guard spoke up. “wait, the school thingy?”

“You mean meeting?”

“ya.”

Gordon groaned and hid his face in his hands. “The MEETING! Linda fucked up my schedule! I don’t know what she said to the administrator, but they canceled the weekend meeting I was booked for and rescheduled me for tonight. When I have WORK!”

Benrey winced in sympathy and reached out to pat Gordon’s shoulder with his not cheese coated hand. “damn, th-that’s a real cringe move. can’t you get, uh, joshie’s mom to take care of it? s...shea?”

“I can’t,” Gordon muttered, face muffled by his hands. “Shea’s been on a business trip for some conference and she gets back in five days.”

“oooooh, that’s why you’ve had little josh bro for so long?”

Rather than respond, the physicist just continued to groan and hide his face in his hands as he tried to figure out how to fix the mess he had been caught up in. 

Joshua’s school had a very… specific structure to how it was run. Standard funding and where it would be directed was determined by the staff, however, sometimes the school would receive donations or raise large amounts of money through fairs and other events. 

And it was how this extra funding would be spent that the local community had the chance to weigh in on. Determining if it should be used to get more sports supplies, help fund after school programs, or be used to help make the school more accessible. 

The ramp that had been added two years ago was one such example of the potential good that these extra funds had, however there was one problem with this process. 

All parents were required to attend a meeting and voice their thoughts. This was a rather new development that had been added after a small group of disgruntled parents, ones who had objected to using the extra funds to improve the school and arguing that it should go towards planning fun trips instead, had tried to sue the school board. 

Of course, the case had immediately been thrown out and dismissed, but it had set a dangerous precedent. A precedent that now made it mandatory for all parents to attend one meeting to determine their opinions on where the funding should be used and write it down so they could not claim their voices had not been heard. 

Honestly, it was such a stupid arrangement in Gordon’s opinion. Why not just send out an email? Or forms that kids could take home to their parents. It was so… disruptive and annoying, especially for single parents who had to work long hours. 

Like him. 

His hands tensed, nails nearly dug into his skin before Benrey carefully moved them, holding them. As Gordon looked up, the ex-guard sent him an awkward yet warm smile. An attempt at reassuring him that things would turn out alright. 

“hey... you-you gotta chillax feetman, things’ll be okay-”

“How the hell am I supposed to chillax in this situation?!” Gordon barked as he removed his hands from Benrey’s, shoved himself out of his seat, and began pacing around, furiously staring at the floor. 

“I’ve been fucked over by some racist bitch! Joshua needs someone there and it has to be someone who has some kind of guardianship over him for that stupid funding bullshit!”

As his partner raged on about the unfairness and overall stupidity of the situation, Benrey decided that it was time to think. To think, and plot, and come up with something that would hopefully calm Gordon down while solving the problem that Linda had caused. 

Simply put, Joshua needed someone who had designated guardianship over him to be present during the meeting to act in his best interests. Not surprisingly, Benrey did not have this title due as both he and Gordon had agreed that it would not be the best idea due to both his inhumane nature and the potential destruction he might cause. 

But, that did not mean that only Shea and Gordon were listed as the young boy’s guardians. There was one other who had been granted the title in case of an emergency, although his presence had never been needed up until this point, which was probably why Gordon had forgotten about him in his stressed out state. 

Dr. Coomer, one of Joshua’s “grandpas”. 

And, of course, if one member of the Science Team went somewhere, then the rest had to follow. The Science Team stuck together through thick and thin, no matter the strife or struggle and always left chaos in their wake. 

Hostile arrangements required equally hostile solutions, after all. 

“this is gonna be baller.” Benrey chuckled, his eyes flashing brightly at the brilliance of his plan. Now all he had to do was get Gordon to agree to it.

“pssst, yo, xen to gaydon.”

There was something about the tone that Benrey’s voice took on that snapped Gordon out of his ranting. How calm and collected he sounded, the coherency and confidence in his words. Somewhat concerned, the physicist turned around and saw the scheming look in the ex-guard’s glowing eyes as his fingers drummed on the table. 

“feetman, i got a plan.”

                                             xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

I would like to make it clear that no offense is intended towards anyone named Linda, aside from the one racist Linda I know that she was named after who will never, ever read this so my sins will forever remain unknown :>

[labyrithian]

About Hikaru no Go

 I’ve been rewatching this series and the usual feelings and thoughts came to mind whenever I get to episode 47. When Sai becomes upset that Hikaru isn’t letting him play much anymore. I try to resist looking at the comment section, because I know what I’m going to see.

  Everyone always talks about how they feel so bad for Sai, that Hikaru is being selfish. I'd beg to differ, it's Sai who is being selfish and jealous. He's angry that, as a ghost, he can't participate in life like Hikaru can, and he's taking it out on Hikaru by letting his bitterness show during their interactions. Instead of talking to Hikaru about his concerns, he's very abrupt and rude with Hikaru (Not responding to him, simply giving angry looks and telling him to do things). Hikaru may be a bit thoughtless with his words sometimes, but he is a young boy. Sai is an adult who has technically lived through 2 lifetimes already, he should know better. Also, lets not forget that this is Hikaru's life and career we are talking about, not Sai's. Sai is dead, but, as a ghost, he's not ready to accept it. It's not an easy situation. This is Hikaru's life, not Sai's. It's sad for Sai, but his life ended a long time ago (and by his own hand). Sai is a ghost, and, like most depictions of ghosts, he is envious of the life that Hikaru has. In the end, I think it's really unfair and selfish that he took such an important part of Hikaru's career from him (A fact even Sai himself admits). I get that everyone loves Sai, but you shouldn't look at this situation in such a one-sided way.

Sai is going through something very difficult here, he's realizing that he is a ghost. His life is over and he's no longer part of the living world. He may have realized this earlier if Torajiro had protested his taking over his life as a Go player (It seems to be he either wasn't as interested in Go as Hikaru is. Or maybe he just let himself be bullied by Sai, which is implied to be the case by Sai in episode 49 . Again, very selfish). This is hard for him, and I feel very sorry for him. But that's no excuse for him to become angry at Hikaru simply for living his life. Hikaru has every right to be excited about life and proud of his accomplishments. I'd bet, had a ghost possessed Sai as a child, he would react in exactly the same way as Hikaru has. Maybe even worse, Sai seems like he loves Go too much to have allowed some spirit to play through him.

Some argue that Hikaru is ungrateful. Let me put it this way, how often do parents call their children ungrateful? Adults nurture and care for children everyday, teach them what they need to know in life. But, once that's over, a child will always leave in order to start their own lives. Some parents resent this, some think of their children as a new chance to live out their own dreams. That is how I see Sai. In his sadness over losing his game and being banished, he chose to end his own life, ending his own ability to continue to play the game he loves so much. He can’t play anymore, so he uses the people he possesses to play for him. Like that overbearing parent who forces their kid to play sports or pursue ballet because they themselves suffered an injury and can’t do it anymore. Hikaru may love Go now, but Sai made it clear in the beginning that he wanted Hkaru to play regardless of his own interest.

 He may love and feel very proud of Hikaru, but it’s partially because he is LITERALLY living through him. A parents job is to teach and guide their children, not live through him. Sai may not be Hikaru’s father, but he’s a very parental figure to Hikaru as I see it. Especially given that we never truly see Hikaru’s father, only hear him (I feel like that has to be on purpose in order to cement Sai’s role as the male role-model in his life). Also, Hikaru’s actual parents are often shown to have very little faith in him, which may be why he shows just as little regard for them. In the end, Sai was very lucky to have Hikaru, someone who no only also loves and has great potential for Go, but who cares about him enough to let him take such an important game in his career from him (The game being his introduction into the world of pros. His game with Toya Meijin). (Though I remain adamant that he shouldn’t have had to in the first place and Sai was wrong to guilt him in order to get what he wanted).

 Sai is also very self-centered. He believes he was brought back because he was the closest to the Divine Move. He can’t think of any other reason for it. He even calls out to God to ask why would he be brought to Hikaru. It genuinely takes him a long time to realize that maybe, just maybe, the reason he brought to Hikaru (A child with massive amounts of potential for Go) is because he was meant to teach him. To help someone else, who is not him, reach the Divine Move. He cannot fathom that it is not himself who will play the Divine Move. In fact, it is only after this realization that he passes on. That can’t be for no good reason.

 Hikaru is not being selfish. Just because you do something for someone does not mean you are owed anything. Least of all when it comes to kids, your own included. Sai may have taught Hikaru about Go and nurtured his love for it, but that does not mean Hikaru owes him anything. Especially when that something involves Hikaru’s own life.

 That being said, I’d like to say that I do not dislike Sai as a character. Hikaru is my favorite character (Just look at all that character development, he grows so much and I love it), but I have a lot of respect for Sai. He also undergoes a massive amount character growth. In the end, he did let go and realize his true purpose. He was sad, but who wouldn’t be. Sai is an awesome character who i love very much, but he’s not the perfect pinnacle of goodness that people tend to want to depict him as either. And honestly, I wouldn’t love him as much as I do if he was. Perfect characters are just boring.

Sorry for the long post, episodes 47-49 never fail to get me all steamed up. this is something that has always bothered me about this series/fandom. I thought it was about time I wrote about it. 

[am-imagines]

Legendary 3.5 Morgan!Reader

You wake up before anyone else. The sky is still dark, and the city is silent when you get up. Your phone says is barely past five, and you wonder when was the last time you slept for eight hours.

It’s hard to do so when every time you close your eyes, a nightmare emerges. It’s always about that day; how she wouldn’t pick up the phone just as a breaking news interrupted whatever you were watching on tv. You can’t remember a lot about that day, but you remember the pain.

There’s always a memory coming to the surface ready to break your heart all over again.

It’s been three years, but somehow the pain is still fresh. It clogs your throat while you rub the sleep away from your eyes. It doesn’t matter how many times you talk about it, or how many hours you’ve spent on therapy, you still wait for her to come home.

Hope is killing you.

Maybe you latch onto it because you’d only have anger otherwise. That bittersweet mix of heartache and pain has propelled you forward instead of driving you to self-destruction. You don’t know what letting go means or how to start that process.

No one can show you the way, so you are content staying as you are.

It’s not easy or pretty, but it’s better than giving up.

You leave the bed and change for the day. It’s one of those rare day offs to recover after a match, but you’re not sure what to do if it’s not soccer.

Being extra careful not to wake up Janice, you leave the room to wander aimlessly for the better part of an hour. You leave the hotel, and the city opens its mysteries for you.

You find a deserted playground that has had better times, and next to it stands a forgotten pitch. You can imagine the kids that once played there; full of energy and with the biggest dreams. You made what they dreamed of; be professional and play in a World Cup.

You enter the pitch along with your ball; a little worn out but still with the Orlando Pride colors shining through.  Taking a few shots is the way to go when you want to center your mind. It would have been easy to use the training facilities instead, but you aren’t a star or the daughter of a legend when you’re here. Right there you are just Y/n.

“I wondered where you’d end this morning.”

You turn around to find Janice by the fence; hands in the pockets of her hoodie.

She doesn’t judge, and you smile at her. She’s your best friend, and the reason your thoughts aren’t darker most of the time. O’Hara has been the source of your laughter thanks to her usually stupid, but endlessly edearing, personality.

“I have a phone, you know?”

You might enjoy being on your own, but that doesn’t mean you’re completely reckless. And you certainly don’t want to disappear without notice, much less in a foreign country.

“I like to think I know you well enough to find you without calling first.”

You’re not quite sure if that’s the case or you weren’t sneaky enough and she simply followed you. However, you don’t have enough evidence to call her out.

“And that you did. Do you need me for something?”

“I need my best friend to come surf with me.”

“Janice, I don’t…”

“We’re in Australia! Mom is waiting for us on the car, and I don’t accept no as an answer.”

You have half a mind to argue because surfing isn’t your strong suit. But it makes your best friend happy, and you’re willing to go back to the sea for her. To some degree, it’s another way to be closer to your mother.

At the end of the day, you feel lighter than you’ve done in years.

You sing along to the radio when Kelley takes you back to the hotel. She hugs you for a long moment. Kelley lost her sister, and there’s a day when she doesn’t think about Alex. Her daughter reminds her of Alex, and so do you.

In a way, you have each other, and that helps you to stay afloat.

The change you’ve experienced is noticeable; the entire team sees it. No one says a thing, but they make sure to stay close; enjoying this side of you.

You believe this team is meant to change the world in more ways than just soccer.

They’re changing you for the better, even if you can’t see that yet.

***

“Pick your captain,” Pinoe says putting a hand on your shoulder.

“Harris.”

This is something Sonnett and Rapinoe implemented. They allow the team to pick the captain on every match based on effort, leadership and partnership. There’s no hard feelings, no doubts, and what the team feels is crystal clear.

So far, Harris has been the usual choice. The team supports her, and she does the same for the team. It’s a well deserved badge, and one opportunity Krash doesn’t waste.

“O’Hara?”

“Harris.”

One by one, all of you pick your goalie as the captain. The golden badge finds its place on her arm before Pinoe goes over the strategy to face Brazil.

It isn’t too different from how you played against Germany, but it takes into account their speed. It’s one of their biggest strengths; one you’re ready for.

But you’re not ready for one of the most beautiful finishes you’ve ever seen.

The world stops and you see it happening; someone in a yellow jersey taking a shot within an inch of free space. You see it soar with crazy effect, and a moment later is already on the back of the net.

There’s a general sense of frustration while Brazil celebrates, but there’s nothing you could have done better. The defense was tight as it could have been. Harris stretched as much as she could, but it was one hell of a goal; finding its home in the top right corner.

           “Brazil scores first on this match, and the game is now uphill for the USA.             Can they come back? We shall see.”

USA trails by one and the atmosphere in the stadium changes completely.

People don’t believe in you or the team, that much is obvious when the cheering stops and people boo whenever you touch the ball. It’s infuriating, but the only way to shut them up is by playing better. The change you long to see starts on the field; starts with the ball on your feet.

It’s like they don’t see Brazil playing. They don’t see what they do right, and instead focus solely on what you do wrong. It’s a fair point of view, you guess, but then again, you couldn’t have done anything better in that play. People don’t care.

Winning this game won’t matter if you don’t win the next. And whatever you do in the group stage will be in vain if you don’t win the Cup. It seems unfair, but after so many years of nothing, the entire nation has lost faith in you.

In a way, this isn’t much different from the little soccer pitch forgotten in an alley.

It’s you and some friends going against the rest of the world. Brazil isn’t the enemy, not really. They’re just trying to achieve the same thing as you while wearing a different jersey. That’s the game, and more often than not, life.

The enemy is the phantom voice of the people pulling you down through the years. The people shutting your efforts down when the results aren’t exactly what you want. You’ll find the victory that no one sees coming, the victory after everyone has left the boat.

If they don’t want to believe, no one can force them. But you’ll win anyway.

You don’t react to the crowd or the words trying to break your focus. You only care about the team, and you cheer them on along Harris. The game plan hasn’t changed, so you push forward and close the lines so they can’t use their speed.

It’s another lucky shot that puts the score 2-0 in their favor just when the first half is about to end.

“Oh, come on!”

Soccer is a game of skill as much as it is of luck, and apparently, the Gods are on Brazil’s side. But you’re not one to go down without a fight. You can’t.

                 “Is this the beginning of the end for this team?”

The team seems defeated when they make their way to the locker room, and even Rapinoe struggles to find the right words.

               “I think it is. After what we saw versus Germany, I feel like they don’t                    know what to do now. Maybe they found an accidental victory last time,                but that won’t happen again. They won’t be able to top this poor                            performance.”

“We’ll win the next game,” Harris offers when it seems no one really knows what to say.

“No!” You intercede. “This isn’t over yet.”

“Y/n,” Press calls shaking her head.

“No! Come on, coach.” You look at Pinoe and then to Sonnett. “Don’t let them win. I’m not talking about Brazil; if we lose against them I know we’ll come back ten times stronger, but don’t let the crowd win. If we give up before this game is over, when how can we expect them to believe in us? They expect us to fail, and I expect more from us.”

                 “What about the talent on this team?”

Long is the first one to nod; trademark smirk back in place. Her silent support makes your confidence grow, and soon enough, you’re perched on a chair.

               “It’s moment to reconsider if it’s actually there of if it’s what we want to                 see. Everybody wants the dream team back, and with two members of                 the golden era leading them, it was easy to believe. But let me tell you                right now, this isn’t the dream team even with all those kids with big                      names on their backs. The USWNT won’t make it to the next round.                   They won’t be able to win tonight, and they won’t win against Australia.               It’s over.”

“This team was built from Titans and some of us watched them play. I know we’ve heard the story of the generation that changed women’s soccer forever. But the truth is: we aren’t less than them. We can change it all again. We can make people believe in what we do; in who we are. If Pinoe went against the most tasteless cheto to ever be president and came victorious, why can’t we go against the odds? Why can’t we go back out there and do what we do best?”

                “There you have it, folks. It’s time to go back to the action to see the                    end of this match.”

Your speech brings life back to their eyes and soon, the whole team is ready to face the challenge. Some people would call it reckless optimism, but you’ve seen what this team can do. There’s only one way to see if you have enough to win the tournament, and that’s by leaving everything but hope on the field.

Even if it kills you.

“Here’s what we’re going to do,” Sonnett says and hatches a new plan.

***

Brazil is almost impossibly fast but so is Press. She takes after Christeen; a player capable of zooming from 0 to 80 in two seconds. She’s your entrance point when she uses every bit of skill learned from Heath.

If you talk about fast, then you have to talk about Janice’s transition between defense and offense. She stops Brazil’s attack, and a second later, she joins you at the front; sharp as a knife and ready for the kill.

Long is precise as a surgeon. She follows your lead like no one else can. She’s practically reading your mind; knowing exactly what you want to do and how.

It takes the team around ten minutes to decipher Brazil’s defense before shattering it.

Janice moves with ease to pass the ball to Press. A bicycle and a nutmeg later, you have the ball. As soon as you get it, Long goes into the box, and with a flawless shoot, Harry Long scores.

              “Time is USA’s enemy right now. They’ve managed to shorten the                        distance, but the comeback against Brazil is too far away. An equalizer                could change the story, not just of this tournament, but the entire World               Cup.”

Next time you have the ball, la verde amarela is ready to hold Janice back, but they can’t stop her and Long too.

Harry returns the favor with a delightful assist, and you connect it just right with your forehead. That’s the equalizer, and with fifteen minutes left; it’s a new game.

One point makes you the group leader, but you won’t settle for anything less than the victory.

               “What a moment! Y/n Morgan makes honor to the great Alex Morgan                   with an equalizer. It’s 2-2  at the 75th. It looks like this team doesn’t                     give up. Whatever the coaches told them at halftime, it did the trick.”

You know what that goal means, for the team and for you personally. Your celebration is quite reserved, but you make sure to point to the sky. That’s enough for you. You’re there with her memory, but thanks to your hard work.

The team relaxes for a hot minute, but like always, they’re focused when the match resumes.

Brazil is tough on the last minutes; unwilling to go down.

The tactics you used against Germany are obsolete against them. WIth only two minutes of added time left on the clock, you don’t think there’s much left to do.

However, your dedication and effort pays off. With only a few seconds left, you earn a corner kick. It’s your last chance, and you’re ready.

A shared look with Long and PRess is more than enough to know the strategy.

Your mission is to make sure the ball makes it through. Your mark is tight, but you’re taller than your defender. A chance is all you need, and Janice grants it to you with her swerve. Long boxes out her mark, and you rise just enough to barely deflect the ball so it can reach Press.

She’s alone behind you, and the Brazilian goalie doesn’t have time to react.

The ball finds nothing but net. The whistle blows, and the match is over.

                “I can’t believe it! They pulled off one of the most epic comebacks I’ve                  ever seen! The USA wins! These girls don’t give up, and today they                      go back to sleep with an unbelievable result.”

You won. The USA gets three more points and it’s a step closer to the next round. If people believe or not, it’s unimportant.  The team showed them courage, pride, passion and determination. Those aren’t flashy words, but a proof of who you are and what you can do.

“Y/n, Y/n!” A reporter calls for your attention. “What do you have to say to the people thinking USA wouldn’t make it past the group stage?”

For a second, you consider how to answer that before opting for a nonchalant shrug.

“Nothing. Everyone that wants to support us is welcome. But the ones that don’t won’t affect us. We came here to play, and that’s what we’re going to do.”

You don’t wait for the next question or remark. It can be perceived as rude or even arrogant, but you want to spend time with those who believe in you rather than those who don’t. And who believes more in what you’re doing than the rest of the team?

There are no right questions about the team’s performance or if you’re following the steps of your mother. They want something juicy that sells well, but you won’t let them question what you’re doing right.

“Harris!” You call up to your captain. “Wait for me!”

“Hurry up, Morgan.”

You’re ready to fly, now the question is:

How high can you go?

[hunnywrites]

Arcade Dreams: Chapter Eighteen

Summary: There’s a new girl working at the Palace Arcade and Hawkins’ Family Video. Billy can’t stand her, and the feeling is mutual. No matter what everyone else seems to think.

Pairing: Billy Hargrove/OFC

A/N: What’s this? A surprise, early Arcade Dreams update? I’ve been dying for y’all to read this chapter. We’re gonna move away from show canon a little, this is something I’ve been planning since I started writing this fic. This chapter has been a looong time coming, and we’re gonna get some insight to Teddi’s dad’s identity. I hope you enjoy! 

Billy and Teddi had gone out for pizza a few hours ago. Afterwards he’d been able to patch up her tires for a temporary fix until he had more time to replace them entirely. They had been on a bit of a time crunch. Neither of Teddi’s parents were home, and there was no real way of knowing when her mom (who would definitely tell her dad that a boy had been over) would turn up. 

Teddi had spent the rest of the night in her room. Her father didn’t bother her. Out of sight, out of  mind she figured. She was working on some homework when he walked into her room a few hours after he had come home from work. “Your mother and I are going out to dinner. I’m imagining you don’t have any plans tonight?” he asked. Teddi thought of her popped tires. Bastard, she thought bitterly. 

“No, sir. Just finishing up homework.” she motioned to her books. 

“Good girl. We’ll be home in a few hours.” and with that he left. Teddi stuck her tongue out at his retreating back. It was like nothing had happened between them. But come tomorrow, he wouldn’t be able to boss her around anymore or torment her. She would be out of the house and on her own. She was practically giddy at the idea. 

Eventually she gave up on her homework. She just couldn’t make herself focus. This had to be how kids felt on Christmas Eve. So excited at the thought of the presents they’d get on Christmas morning that they couldn’t sit still. So she plopped down on the couch with some popcorn and settled in for some channel surfing. It wasn’t something she got to do very often. 

Teddi had settled on the Golden Girls when the phone rang. She nearly let it ring. It wasn’t like anyone was calling for her. But then if it was someone from her dad’s work and she didn’t take a message she knew she wouldn’t hear the end of it. So she got up from the couch with a heavy sigh and shuffled over to the kitchen. 

“Hello?”

“...Teddi?” it was Max. She was speaking quietly, like she was hiding from someone. It was too late for her to be calling just to chat. Teddi’s gut immediately told her something was wrong.

“Max? Is everything okay?” there was a long pause on the other end and Teddi could feel her palms growing clammy. 

“We can’t find Billy.” was all she said. 

Teddi’s heart was hammering in her chest. Everything had been fine earlier. What the hell could have happened between him leaving her to go back home? “Wh-what do you mean you can’t find him? What happened?” 

“He came home a few hours ago and he got in a huge fight with Neil. He stormed off and he hasn’t come home or called or anything...it was bad, Teddi. Do you have any idea where he might be? I mean, you’re his best friend. I’m starting to freak out.” Teddi almost couldn’t hear Max. All of the images of what Neil might have done to his son were running through her mind at a mile a minute. She almost felt sick.

“Um...I think I might have an idea,” she said finally, swallowing thickly. “I’ll go find him, okay? Just try and get some sleep. I’ll call you tomorrow once everything’s calmed down a little.” they both hung up and Teddi hurried to her room to grab her boots and puffy jacket. She knew there was a good chance that her tires might pop on her way to Billy, but did she really have any other choice? She definitely couldn’t walk out in the snow. 

She sped through the streets, praying that her patched tires would survive the drive and that she wouldn’t get pulled over by the cops. Everything in town was closed. There was only one place in Teddi’s mind that Billy could be. The Lake. It was their spot. Well, technically not their spot. They just coincidentally shared it. Teddi shook her head. That part didn’t matter right now. 

When she spotted the Camaro parked out at the water’s edge she let out a loud sigh of relief. She parked her van and hopped out, hurrying over to Billy’s car. She could barely make him out in the dark. The only light coming inside was coming from the end of his lit cigarette. The door was unlocked. She slid in next to him. Neither of them said anything for awhile. 

“...Max called me,” she finally said. “She’s really worried about you.”

“I’m fine.” Billy spat.

She wasn’t going to let him off that easy this time. He wasn’t going to scare her away. “What happened, Billy? ...Did he hurt you?” he didn’t say anything. He simply blew out a cloud of smoke. “...Can I see?”

There was another long pause. Billy sniffed and angrily pushed on the light above them. Teddi’s hand slowly covered her mouth in an attempt to stifle the gasp she wanted to let out. Billy’s left eye was swollen shut. His eyebrow had a cut in it that was deep enough for Teddi to know it would scar. It had stopped bleeding at least, but the blood had run down over his eye and down the left side of his face. There was also a nasty split in the center of his lip. Teddi was surprised he was smoking at all. The boy in front of her was almost unrecognizable. “Billy…” she said softly.

“I was in my room,” he said finally. “It was after I came back from your place. Everything was fine, you know? Susan was making dinner and Max and Neil were watching tv,” he swallowed loudly, flicking his cigarette out the window. His fingers gripped tightly at the steering wheel. “All of the sudden he starts getting on Max’s case about something. I don’t know what. But he wouldn’t stop. And she was arguing back. Sometimes she doesn’t know when to quit with him. But they just kept getting louder, so I stood out in the hall just in case...he just started screaming at her. And I’ve never seen her scared like that. Max isn’t scared of shit, y’know? But he just kept yelling and I could just feel that he was gonna hurt her if I didn’t stop him,” he trailed off, but Teddi didn’t need for him to finish. The shape he was in told her everything she needed to know. 

“I’m not fucking doing this anymore, Teddi. I can’t. Sometimes I catch myself imagining something horrible happening to him. Doing something horrible. And I never feel bad, you know? He deserves it. He’s the reason my mom left. He’s the reason she didn’t take me with her. He’s not my fucking father. Sometimes I think he’s barely even human.” 

Teddi’s heart ached when she saw his eyes welling up with tears. She took one of his hands in her own, her thumb running gently over his bruising knuckles. “I think...I think you should come with me. To the apartment.” she said.

Billy let out a loud sigh. “I can’t. Max-”

Teddi shook her head. “Billy, we need to get out. I know that you’re worried about Max. I’m worried about her too. But if we leave, if we get that apartment...it can be like a safe place for her to go. Whenever she needs it, you know? Until we can figure out how to get her out of that house,” she reached up and touched his face, her fingers ghosting gently over his bruised cheek. Her heart ached again when he leaned into her touch. “You can’t go back there,” after what felt like forever Billy finally nodded. “Come on. I have a first aid kit in my van. We can spend the night here, I’ll call Max in the morning and we’ll go see about the apartment, okay?” 

Billy followed her silently to her van. They climbed into the back, and Teddi pulled out the first aid kit that she kept under the driver’s seat. “Sorry, usually it’s just me using this so I kinda only have girly band-aids…” she mumbled, wincing and apologizing as Billy hissed at the feeling of the alcohol being dabbed at his cuts.

“A pink band-aid’s the least of my worries right now, Larsson.” he was trying to smile, trying to crack a joke with her. Teddi let out a soft laugh. 

“You know…” she said, gently blowing on the cut on his eyebrow before applying the band-aid. “Max said that I was your best friend…” she said with a smile.

Billy shifted uncomfortably. “What am I? A twelve year old girl?” he asked. 

Teddi only shrugged. “...You’re my best friend.” she confessed.

Billy scoffed. “Right.”

“I’m serious. I mean...me and Steve are pretty good friends, but you know way more about me than he does. You know stuff about me that he probably won’t ever know, you know? And like...you’re the first person I want to talk to when something happens. Good or bad. I don’t know...you just are.” she awkwardly shrugged again.

There was another long pause as Teddi finished cleaning Billy’s face. “...Are we gonna make matching bracelets?” he asked. 

“I know you’re being sarcastic, but don’t think for a second that I wouldn’t do that.” 

Billy let out a short laugh. “...Thanks for this, Teddi.”

“Don’t mention it. You’d do the same thing for me.” he would. Of course he would. 

Teddi pulled out her sleeping bag and unzipped it completely before kicking off her boots. “I think we both definitely need some sleep.” 

Billy kicked off his boots as well and slid under the sleeping bag with her. They laid next to each other, both staring up at the disco ball hanging above them. Teddi tentatively reached out, her hand finding Billy’s. He linked his fingers with hers. “...You sleep in here a lot?” he asked finally.

“I have a few times,” Teddi confessed. “Back in New York.”

“...What about your parents? Aren’t they gonna be pissed when you don’t come home?” 

“Who cares? We don’t have to worry about that sort of stuff anymore, right?”

It was a hard thought to wrap their minds around. This was it. No more answering to Greg or Neil. No more unfair rules or punishments. They would be out on their own. Together. 

---

The next morning the pair drove to the apartment building in the Camaro. It was obvious that the building used to be a motel. There was a gated pool out in front, with two vending machines nearby. There was what looked to be a working ice machine that sat just outside of the front office. If the old man running the place could tell that Billy and Teddi were obviously teenagers, he didn’t show it. Billy flashed a fake ID that said he was 23 and that had been enough for him. 

He showed them an apartment on the second floor. There wasn’t an elevator. Teddi was pretty sure it had been two adjoining rooms that they had turned into one larger apartment. There was a tiny living room with a counter that would be their kitchen. Two bedrooms sandwiched a very tiny bathroom between them. It wasn’t the worst thing. The apartment had gotten a fresh coat of paint and some tacky, flowery wallpaper. And it wasn’t like they were used to anything fancy. 

Between their three jobs they would definitely be able to handle the rent. It was close enough to Hawkins that they’d be able to make it to school and work without a problem. And what was most important; it was theirs. 

Teddi couldn’t control her smile as they drove back into town. Her cheeks were starting to hurt. Her eyes were stinging from the threat of tears. “...Is this really happening?” she asked. 

Billy nodded, a smile of his own spreading across his lips. “It’s really happening.” 

They both went quiet as Billy turned onto Cherry road. The Camaro came to a stop outside of the Hargrove’s house, the two of them looking up at the tiny house while holding their breaths. This was really it.

The most important thing would be getting Billy’s things before Neil came home. Or at least as much as they could. Max was outside skateboarding in the street. She hugged Billy tightly when she saw him. He awkwardly patted his step sister on the back. He’d never show it or admit it, but Teddi knew he appreciated the fact that Max cared about him. 

Susan was hovering awkwardly in the living room. She was asking Billy if he was alright and telling him that she had been worried about him when he never came home. Teddi believed her. Teddi believed that Susan loved Max and cared about Billy. She knew that Susan wasn’t the same as her own mother. But it didn’t make her like Susan any. She still sat back and let Neil rule his household with an iron fist. 

Teddi and Billy went to his room, Max and Susan following close behind them. Susan was asking a million questions and Billy ignored each of them. He went for his stereo first. He yanked the power cord free from the wall, turning and handing it over to Teddi. “Billy, please. Don’t you think this is an overreaction? I’m sure you and your father can work things out-” Susan pleased. 

“An overreaction?” Billy let out a dry laugh. “He’s your problem now, Susan. You don’t have to pretend to feel sorry for me and look the other way anymore,” he picked up a milk crate full of his records. “Maybe this is best for both of us, huh? You’ll finally see what a goddamn monster he is when it’s pointed in your direction.” 

That was enough to keep Susan out of their way. She sat on the couch, fidgeting anxiously as she watched Billy, Teddi and Max march back and forth between the Camaro and Billy’s room. His music had been the most important thing. Once his stereo, record player, cassettes and records were all safely in the back seat Billy grabbed a few trash bags and started filling it with his clothes. 

“...Where are you going?” Max finally asked. She and Teddi were both carefully taking Billy’s things from his closet, folding them before putting them in the large black bags. Billy was grabbing fists full of his clothes out of his drawers, angrily shoving them in the trash bags. 

“We got an apartment outside of town.” he muttered. 

Max looked between the both of them. “Together?” she asked. Max had never really understood why Teddi and Billy liked each other so much. She knew that they didn’t really have much in common aside from her and working at the pool. Max knew that Billy liked Teddi, and she knew that Teddi liked Billy. She and El had always thought it was obvious, even if they argued all of the time. But they assumed it was just because they were dumb teenagers that found each other attractive. Now suddenly, seeing Billy finally at his breaking point, and Teddi with a bruise that covered her left eye and cheek, she realized that they had more in common than she had ever imagined. 

Beneath the surface Billy and Teddi were two very lonely people. And now they had finally found someone to pull each other out of that loneliness. 

Teddi nodded, smiling a little. “Together. And Max, you’re allowed to come over whenever you want, okay? It’s small, but there’s a pullout couch with your name on it. You can even have sleepovers with El. Whatever you want. Just promise me that he ever makes you feel unsafe again you call me and I’ll come and get you, alright?”

Max looked over at Billy. He nodded, so slightly that Max almost wasn’t sure she’d seen it. “...I promise.” 

“I’ll pick you up from school tomorrow and show you the place, alright? C’mon, Ted. We gotta go. I’ll come back for the rest,” Teddi noticed Billy pulling a small wooden box out of his top drawer. It was about the size of his hand. It was a sandy color with something etched into the lid. He quickly shoved it into the pocket inside his jacket, like Teddi and Max weren’t supposed to see it. “...You gonna be okay, Max?” he asked. 

“I’m fine. Mom says I’m allowed to sleep over at El’s since Neil’s being an asshole….I’m sorry, Billy. That he went off on you like that. It was my fault. He wanted me to change the channel and I kept arguing with him…”

Billy placed a hand on his step sister’s shoulder, leaning down to meet her eyes. “Don’t ever apologize for him, got it? If it wasn’t that it would’ve been something else. You remember what I told you back home? At Captain Spauldings?” Max’s shoulders straightened a little as she nodded. Teddi couldn’t help but wonder what their secret was. “You call us if you need us, okay? We’ll be there.” Billy awkwardly ruffled the top of Max’s head before heading back to the Camaro. He didn’t bother to look in Susan’s direction as he passed.

He and Teddi finished loading his things into the trunk and got in. Max was on the porch, waving as they drove off. Teddi let out a shaky breath. She looked over at Billy, who was drumming his fingers against the steering wheel even though the radio was off. He looked...calm. This wasn’t a Billy she saw very often. There was a hint of a smile on his lips. He looked like a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. 

This all felt like a dream. To be in Billy’s Camaro, the two of them finally about to escape the nightmare that was their home lives. It all felt almost too good to be true. Like at any second something horrible would happen, or she would wake up and realize that none of this was even real. Billy bumped his elbow against Teddi’s, bringing her back to the real world. “Hey,” he said lowly. “You okay?”

He fished his pack of cigarettes out of his jacket and held it out to Teddi. She eyed them for a moment before taking a smoke, clamping it between her lips. “I’m just nervous,” she muttered as Billy lit the cigarette for her. Teddi took a long drag, her eyes falling shut and her head falling back against her seat. “My dad’ll be home soon…” 

“Don’t worry about him. You just worry about getting your stuff.” they both knew that that would be easier said than done. Billy would be somewhat of a safety net for her. Her dad probably wouldn’t do or say much of anything if there was someone around to see him in action. He had too much to lose. But he had been a little unpredictable lately, and Teddi was worried that Billy might have to take the brunt of what was about to come. 

While Billy had been to Teddi’s once before, this was the first time he had ever seen Teddi’s mother. Teddi looked a lot like her. He didn’t understand how Bonnie could look at her daughter, who was the spitting image of her, and feel absolutely nothing for her. Billy hated her. She was sitting on the couch, flipping through the channels on TV when they walked in. When Teddi and Billy walked into her field of vision, she finally looked over at them with a bored expression. 

“And who’s this?” Bonnie asked, looking Billy up and down. If she felt any sort of way about him, she didn’t show it. It was like she wasn’t a real person. Like she was one of those mind control victims in those sci fi movies Max liked to watch. Billy briefly wondered if at one point Bonnie had been more like Teddi. Energetic and friendly. Maybe Greg had succeeded in beating her into submission, like Neil had tried with Billy’s mom. Now he had the perfect stepford wife that was loyal only to him. Even at the expense of his own daughter. 

“None of your business,” there was a confidence behind Teddi’s voice that Billy was a little surprised to hear. This wasn’t the same Teddi that had been fidgeting nervously in the Camaro just minutes before. “I’m leaving.” she announced before heading down the hall. He wasn’t surprised that Bonnie didn’t follow after them like Susan had. 

Billy followed Teddi to her room. He’d never seen it before. It was smaller than his room. There was only a tiny desk, a nightstand and Teddi’s bed packed tightly inside. Teddi opened her closet door, reaching in and pulling out a stack of flattened cardboard boxes. He wondered how many times she had pulled them out before, trying to work up the courage to pack before changing her mind. 

They were silent as they started to pack up her things. Teddi made quick work of emptying out her closet before standing up on her bed to peel the little glow in the dark stars off of her ceiling. Billy went over to her desk. There was a Carrie poster taped to the wall next to a tiny bulletin board. There were about a dozen different movie ticket stubs tacked to it. A grainy polaroid of the statue of liberty next to a photo of Teddi standing on a lake dock. She was in a bright blue bikini with white, star shaped sunglasses and she had her arm around a girl with a head of pink, unruly curls. Teddi looked happy. Genuinely happy. It was a gross contrast from the Teddi that was in front of him now. He carefully picked each of the things she had tacked up to the board and tucked them into a box along with the other things on her desk. 

“Your mother tells me you’re leaving.” Billy jumped a little at the sound of Greg Larsson’s voice. Teddi’s dad was a big guy. Easily about 6’4. He took up the entire doorway. His hair was shaved close on the sides and longer on top. Like at one point he’d been a jarhead and hadn’t been able to let it go. He looked like the poster boy for some sort of weird super soldier experiment gone wrong. Billy’s hands clenched into fists. It wasn’t like him and Neil. Neil was the same size as Billy. If Billy wanted to fight back he could. Greg was almost three times Teddi’s size. What kind of pathetic asshole picked on someone that was so helpless to defend themselves? You about two months ago? He reminded himself. His fists clenched tighter. 

Teddi turned to look at her father with a look of disgust before returning to her packing. “What do you care?” 

“Theodora...is this about the disagreement we had the other day?” he asked, crossing his arms tightly across his chest. 

Teddi laughed. “Disagreement? You mean when you called me a whore and almost fractured my skull?” she asked, pointing to the large bruise on her cheek. Billy knew that if he hadn’t been there she probably wouldn’t have said that to her father. He didn’t mind that him being there was an extra boost of courage. He was proud of her. “What do you even care if I leave? You don’t care about me. You and mom have never cared about me. So let me go and you can just pretend that I never existed like you’ve always wanted.” her voice cracked a little as she spoke, but she didn’t cry.

Billy wondered what might have happened if he hadn’t been there. If he hadn’t inched his way over between Teddi and Greg in case he decided to do something bold. He was thinking about it. Billy knew that he was. His sharp jaw clenched and unclenched. His hand was twitching as if he was trying to keep himself for lashing out at her. Greg watched his daughter with a cold expression. Like if he could kill her right then and there with a look, he would. 

“...If you leave, you are no longer welcome in this home. You’re not going to come crying to me when he gets tired of you and moves on to the next girl. You’re no longer my daughter.” 

Billy didn’t see that as much of a threat. Greg wasn’t Teddi’s father. He’d explained it to Max back in California when she had finally seen Neil for what he really was. Billy and Teddi could call Neil and Greg their fathers all they wanted. But men, and Billy used that term lightly, like Neil and Greg couldn’t be fathers to anyone. They were monsters. Monsters that were keeping Billy and Teddi hostage for their own sick enjoyment.

Teddi laughed again. Her eyes were shiny with the threat of tears. She picked up the box that sat at her feet, walking up to Greg with her head held high. “Good.” 

---

Billy and Teddi were both sitting on their new couch in their new apartment. They were both silent, staring at their reflection in the blank TV screen in front of them. Teddi had cried in the car after they left her parents’ house. She cried the entire drive to the apartment. Billy had reached over, putting his arm around her and pulling her towards him. Teddi cried into his shoulder, her tears soaking into his denim jacket. Neither of them said anything until Billy pulled into the parking lot of their apartment building.

Teddi pulled away from him, wiping her eyes roughly. Her bottom lip trembled, like she could start crying at any given second. She looked over at him, her cheeks still slick with tears. “...Thank you.” she finally said. 

He didn’t really know what she was thanking him for. Leaving with her. Helping her get her things. Letting her cry on his shoulder. It didn’t really matter to him. The corner of his mouth twitched up into a grin. “What are friends for, right?” 

Teddi let out a soft laugh. She bit down on her bottom lip as the two looked at each other. Billy could feel his heart beating harshly in his chest. Teddi looked beautiful. Otherworldly in the red light that was shining down onto the Camaro from the building’s neon sign. She sniffed softly, shifting nervously in her seat before her hand gently ghosted his bruised cheek, just like she had the night before. Billy didn’t move as she bit her lip again, leaning forward and kissing him so softly he was almost scared he had imagined it. She pulled away from him, watching him and waiting to see if what she had done was okay. 

Billy wrapped his arms around Teddi’s waist, pulling her back to him. He kissed her. Teddi let out a surprised sound, her hands gripping onto his shoulders. Teddi had wondered what this moment would be like. What it might be like to kiss Billy. None of it really matched up to the actual thing. Everything about him was...strong. His arms wrapped around her, the feel of his chest as her hands slid under his jacket. His lips. Everything about Billy Hargrove made Teddi feel safe. She never wanted this to end. She would be content staying there in Billy’s Camaro, kissing him and letting him hold her until the world ended. 

“If that’s how you say thank you I should’ve started being nicer a long time ago.” Billy smirked. His arms were still wrapped around her middle, and Teddi was gripping onto his shirt beneath his jacket. 

Teddi laughed a little and rolled her eyes. “Funny,” her hand reached up, her thumb stroking his jaw gently. “...We should probably get inside.” she sighed. 

They brought the things they’d packed up the stairs and inside their new home. Now they were on the couch, their hands just barely touching. “...We should skip school tomorrow. Celebrate our new freedom.” he finally said. 

“Celebrate our new freedom by being irresponsible?” she asked with a smile. 

“It’s one day, Larsson. Come on. Let’s do something fun.” 

Teddi eyed him carefully, trying to hide a smile as her cheeks blushed. “...You better be real careful with whatever you’re about to suggest, Hargrove.” she warned. 

Billy smirked. “Relax. I meant like going to the movies or something. What about that Terminator movie? Freddy said it was pretty badass.”

Teddi made a face. “I don’t know...I’m not super crazy about that Schwarzenegger guy. He’s always reminded me too much of my dad. What about Starman?” 

Billy blinked. “...What’s that?”

“It’s the one with Jeff Bridges who’s an alien pretending to be a human and he and he takes Marion from Indiana Jones with him to try and get back to space?” she explained, as if he were crazy for not knowing. Billy only stared at her. “It’s John Carpenter!” 

“Is that supposed to mean something to me?” 

“Halloween? The Thing? Escape From New York? He’s like the best director ever.” 

Billy rolled his eyes and held his hands up. “....Whatever, Larsson. We’ll go see Spaceman.”

 “Starman.” 

“Whatever.” there was a different energy as they got back in the Camaro. They were both smiling, almost giddy. Teddi flipped through the collection of tapes Billy kept in the glove compartment. She settled on Journey, popping the tape into the deck. Billy’s fingers drummed against the steering wheel along to the beat. 

Their eyes met, the two of them sharing a smile. Billy propped his elbow up on the center console, holding out his middle finger to her. Teddi laughed, raising an eyebrow. “What is this, a Billy Hargrove pinky promise? What are we, five?” 

Billy smirked over at her. “Says the girl that wanted to make friendship bracelets,” he joked. Teddi let out a chuckle and linked her finger with his. His ring was cold against her skin. “It’s you and me now, Larsson. We’re in this together. You ready?” 

She was. Of course she was. They were quite the pair. Two misfits that felt like they didn’t belong anywhere. Battered and bruised. But they had finally found a home. With each other.  Teddi smiled as Billy brought her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to her bruised knuckles. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

[huronnade-moved]

       He awoke to the dull ring of his telephone, as he often did.  After fumbling uselessly in the dark for several seconds, the Sheriff sat up with a grunt and brought the receiver to his ear.

       ❛❛ Hello? ❜❜        ❛❛ Sheriff, we have a… situation. ❜❜        ❛❛ Talk t’me. ❜❜

       He listened with growing impatience as his coworker stammered for several seconds, the sound of the telephone wire being coiled nervously around his finger causing an unpleasant crackle of static before he released the pressure once more.  After several seconds:   ❛❛ There’s a lady here.  Stumbled into the station covered in blood.  Said she’d only talk t’you. ❜❜

       ❛❛ I’ll be down. ❜❜        ❛❛ She said the phone works if y’wanna speak with her immediately. ❜❜

       He paused to think for a moment.  Something told him to take the offer before she could elude him.  For some reason, he trusted a faceless woman’s sincerity over the phone more than he did in person.  Perhaps seeing him would cause her to retract, fold back into her reclusive little shell like a snail, and they’d be there all night trying to fish answers out of her.  Kuro had always been one for brevity, even at the expense of tastefulness.

       ❛❛ I’ll talk t’her. ❜❜

       At this point, his wife was stirring, mumbling incoherently and shuffling in her spot beside him.  Though he couldn’t do much about the noise, he did his best to lower his voice somewhat. He honed in on the sound of the phone being pulled along, cord dragging across the wooden floor before the bulky device was sat in what he could only assume was the woman’s lap.  He listened to her breathe quietly for a few seconds before she spoke words that appeared to him only in nightmares, her voice monotone and dull.  Slowly, Kuro sat up more, turning on the light, reaching for the notepad he always left on his bedside table.

       ❛❛ Could y’verify that, ma’am?  Y’said you… stabbed yer two children ‘n’ then        yerself? ❜❜        ❛❛ Yes, sir. ❜❜

       At this point, Deeana had risen, was staring at him like a cat caught in a neighbour’s backyard.  He barely glanced at her, clicking his pen and beginning to scribble.  His calligraphy had always been blocky but neat, succinct capitals steadily filling the lines as he jotted down tirelessly.

       ❛❛ ‘n’ yer in the station now? ❜❜        ❛❛ Yes, sir. ❜❜        ❛❛ Okay.  Where’re yer children? ❜❜

       There was an eerie pause before she answered him this time, the silence punctuated with something that was almost grief before she continued:   ❛❛ In their bedroom.  On the floor.  With their favourite stuffies. ❜❜

       ❛❛ ... dead? ❜❜        ❛❛ Dead, sir. ❜❜

       How coldly she addressed the whole thing was seriously beginning to give him the creeps.  A veteran officer he may be--  a veteran Sheriff at this point, one could argue--  but he’d never become immune to the merciless nature of psychopaths.  He could uncover every sick mind in The Great Unknown, could explore every nook and cranny of everybody’s brains, and he’d still be left with the daunting feeling of horror whenever he came face to face with darkness.

       ❛❛ Okay…  where did y’stab yerself? ❜❜        ❛❛ In the neck, sir. ❜❜

       ❛❛ Okay, are you... ❜❜   He paused for a moment, the word feeling blocky and foolish sitting on the tip of his tongue.      ❛❛ … bleeding? ❜❜   It felt fit to ask despite its supposed obviousness.  She’d managed to stumble from Raku-knows-where into the station while apparently sporting this abrasion.  Perhaps she hadn’t thought to do it hard enough;  or perhaps, just maybe, she’d become scared and been unable to execute herself despite her desire to.  People often did, even if they felt they deserved it.  He himself had struggled with the idea of throwing himself off of a bridge despite his ache to be free of the life he’d hurriedly glued together.

       ❛❛ There’s blood everywhere…  one of your officers is tryin’ to stop it.  ❜❜        ❛❛ D’y’feel faint, ma’am? ❜❜        ❛❛ A little, sir. ❜❜

       ❛❛ Mmkay.  I’m certain a paramedic will be with y’shortly.  Do listen t’any instructions. ❜❜   Already clambering out of bed, he dragged the receiver along with him as he began to get dressed for work.  A brief glance at the clock told him it was a little after three in the morning, and a glance out of the window told him that it was much too early, yet all too late, to be having this kind of conversation.  As he dragged his pants over his legs, belt secured steadily in place, he fished in his dresser for a shirt and continued to talk.   ❛❛ Can I keep you? ❜❜

       ❛❛ Yes, sir. ❜❜

       As he began to tug his shirt over his outstretched arms, phone pressed between his shoulder and ear,  Kuro threaded the buttons through their respective holes whilst continuing to question her.  Keep her talking, he thought, it’ll keep her awake.  What is your address?  Do you still have the murder weapon in your possession?  (  what the fuck is wrong with you?  )

       ❛❛ What’s yer name, miss? ❜❜

       There was a brief silence on the other end, as if she had suddenly become reluctant to speak further.  Then:   ❛❛ Oswald.  Hana Oswald. ❜❜

       Kuro felt his stomach turn briefly.    For just a moment, he recalled the case a terrified husband had made against his wife under the same name a couple of decades ago.  Sheriff, you’ve gotta help me--  the police in Vide ain’t listening to me.  This woman, she’s NUTS, she’s threatening to kill me if I talk about leaving her.  /  ‘m afraid this ain’t my jurisdiction, sir. Y’should file fer a restrainin’ order with yer respective taskforce.  /  Oh God…  they won’t help me.  /  Try again.  If they refuse t’file yer case this time, come back here.  I’ll assist you.

       But Mr.Oswald hadn’t returned.  In fact, when Kuro had sought him out while working on Vide soil, asking him if he still needed help, the man had replied with a firm no.  With all that being said and done, Kuro had assumed that the couple had worked out their differences;  that the hysterical husband had calmed down and was now able to take her hyperbole for what it was: distasteful exaggeration.

       ❛❛ … Hana.  Are you, or were you, married to a man by the name’a Jaspar Oswald? ❜❜        ❛❛ He’s my husband. ❜❜        ❛❛ ‘n’ where is he? ❜❜

       The spooky quiet that settled between them made his blood turn to ice.  Even before she had uttered a word, a bad feeling was beginning to seep into his gut, poisoning his steady work ethic until he felt fit to collapse back into bed.  Sometimes, the chilling brutality of criminal passion was enough to bring even the most steadfast of efforts to a grinding halt.

       ❛❛ He left me. ❜❜

       Even before she carried on, the pieces slotted into place for him.  With a reserved frown on his face, Kuro straightened his collar with a grim tug, as if tying a noose rather than dressing himself.

       ❛❛ So y’killed his children.  T’get him t’come home. ❜❜

       ❛❛ … yes.  Sir.  And after doin’ it, I came here, because he mentioned that the police here were different, that he was goin’ to take his ‘’case’’ to Huron.  I wanted to see the task-force that had the gall to impose on my life with my own eyes. ❜❜   Her voice was different now, consumed by anger;  his title uttered with only the strictest of poison.  Though they had never met, Kuro was certain she reserved only the most toxic of hatreds for him.  She seemed to hold her tongue for a few moments before continuing, and the more she went on, the further unhinged she revealed herself to be.   ❛❛ He said he wanted a divorce.  How can that be?  We had the perfect life together.  Two beautiful children.  A nice house.  We both had steady, well-paying jobs.  How could he just throw that away?  Jaspar’s always struggled with… selfish tendencies.  Sometimes the only way to appeal to his good side is to do somethin’ drastic.  You understand that, right?  Sheriff?  I was just tryin’ to get him to see that he’s bein’ foolish, throwin’ this perfect life with me away.  The grief of losin’ our kids will bring us closer together.  He’ll understand. ❜❜

       ❛❛ Why did he wanna divorce y’? ❜❜   He didn’t care;  he’d want a divorce too at this rate, but keeping her talking was in his best interest.  He listened as her breathing became deeper, as if brutally wounded.   ❛❛ Ma’am--  Hana.  Please stay calm.  Talk t’me. ❜❜

       She started to bawl then, and even without standing in front of her, Kuro  could tell that the grief was only spared for herself.  There was nothing remorseful about that methodical meltdown--  only rue, filled to the brim with self-righteous fury, her noises reminiscent of a mental patient after escaping their unfair captivity;  primal and ruthless and devoid of guilt.  The Sheriff stood there listening, and at one point he felt the distinct teeter of his shadow leaning closer, as if feeding on the sorrowful noise.

       He heard a clatter then, harsh enough to have him flinch against the receiver, and the growing chaos in which he could only assume was his officers rushing to put her in handcuffs.  In the distance, the sound of someone vomiting was audible.  Me too, kid.  Me too.

       Her shrieks were becoming more distant, and even before the previous officer collected the phone, Kuro already knew what had transpired.

       ❛❛ She’s…  bein’ detained.  Dear Raku-- Sheriff, come quick, it’s all goin’ t’hell-- ❜❜

       ❛❛ Easy does it, deputy.  Y’stay put.  Stay calm, clean up, ‘n’ I’ll be down in five minutes.  Do not engage with her.  She’s severely disturbed. ❜❜

       He heard the officer mutter something to the affirmative before putting the phone down.  This was how it often was.  A disturbing phone call in the dead of night, begging for his assistance or begging for his time, and as tired as he often was as a result of it, Kuro wouldn’t have it any other way.  This was what it was to be the Sheriff of Huron.

[kookiesbadhabits]

Nice Guys [M]

He had a serious expression, but not the usual stoicism with tinges of bashfulness like you’re used to. His face seemed shrouded in a darker, carnal yearning. You cursed in the realization that seeing him like this, had you wet. You could feel it, instantly, the familiar heat growing between your legs. 

“Kookie?” you tried again, weakly attempting to pull your arms out of his grip. Your chest rose and fell in anticipation. You wince when you feel his grip on your wrists tighten in response to your outburst.

“Stop calling me that,” Jungkook commanded. 

“We’re the same age,” he continued. “How long did you think you could get away with babying me?”

summary: it’s always a pleasant surprise when the shy, and bashful boy you befriend on campus reveals himself to be a total dom behind closed doors.

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 6.4k

genre: smut 🍑, some pre-smut fluff 🐰

warnings: sub!jungkook, dom!jungkook, choking/asphyxiation, masturbation, oral sex, hair-pulling, spanking, orgasm denial

a/n: 3000 words of fluff + 3000 words of sin = healthy diet

You glanced around the science lounge, scanning the groups of profoundly stressed individuals. Of course, with finals approaching, it’s understandable to see everyone so on edge. Finally, your eyes meet with the person you’ve been looking for: Jungkook. I mean, if you could even call it eye contact. It was barely a split-second until he looked away with that all too familiar shy yet neutral expression, and the slightest purse of his lips.

“Hey, you, ready to go?” you smiled with the usual playful tilt of your head, shoulders perked up and hands clasped together behind your back clutching your phone. In these moments, he could manage keeping the eye contact between you two, but he became notably distracted in an instant.

As he nodded obediently while slowly rising from his seat, grabbing his jacket up off it, his calm composure wavered as he stole a glance at the way your body moved. Your position emphasized your chest, a cheeky bounce noticeable enough to make him dart his eyes away nervously, as you rocked on your heels back and forth, waiting idly as he gathers up his laptop and notes.

You let your guard down often when it came to Jungkook. To you, he just came across as the most innocent little bean who wouldn’t dare make a move even if he really wanted to. As a bonus, whenever you turned on the offense, you enjoyed seeing the faint red flush of his face. It played as your favourite type of entertainment, which only urged you to tease him even more.

As you watch his hand gliding up his chest to zip up his sweater, you suddenly moved to cling onto his arm, taking him by surprise again, swaying his usual collected demeanor. You simple smiled cheekily up at him, relishing his perturbed expression. His eyes widened down at you in processing the sensation of the touch. He jerked away, flustered by the contact of your plump breasts pressing against him. You weren’t wearing a bra again.

*She’s wearing a big baggy sweater after all. *, he deduced, casually shielding his being affected raising his hand to rub at his neck as though he were sore, his eyes lightly closed as he stretched his neck. He kept his expression stagnant again as you two walked to the parking lot.

It was a Friday, and you two agreed that to keep your sanity intact from the stresses of the life-sucking, money-leeching world of post-secondary education, you would spend the Friday nights letting loose. Be it a food trip, a movie, or even simply a night in binge-watching The Office, no matter what the two of you did, the intent was to ease the blow of each other’s course load.

Since being the only person the other knows from high school, you and Jungkook grew closer in the past 3 months. Though you loved teasing him, he never wanted to stop spending time with you. He was always the cool and composed one, while you brought a lively spark of thrill in his daily life with your devious tendencies. You two were friends, at the very least, if you could call this dangerous borderline between romantic and platonic attraction a friendship.

The past few months have been a routine loop of suggestive skinship, eye contact for longer than necessary, taunting him with unfair advances that ranged from sitting on his lap in a study room to something as innocent as leaning on his head when you’d take transit together. In a way, you felt like you had him wrapped around your finger, the way he would do your bidding without hesitation, while letting you get away with your mischievous tendencies. There was something in him that made him crave it, your unpredictability. Though you had a quiet longing for a time when he’d reciprocate your advances, it was still just as amusing to an intimidatingly nonreactive Jungkook break face even for just a moment.

As you reached his car and dropped off the unnecessary baggage into his trunk, the two of you buckled up, and he began driving while you scrolled through your phone to choose music to play.

“You feeling a night out tonight?” you asked as you watched the evening lights of stores and streetlights sped past your gaze.

“Depends where you want to go,” he responded keeping eyes on the road and his voice cool enough to come across cold, as usual. He never intended to come across as indifferent, most people who newly met him in uni would be chased off by his icy remarks, but you knew he had a kind heart.

You turned your head to him, smiling faintly at his focused expression as he drove.

“You should say what you want from time to time, you know,” You poked him playfully on his thigh, noting the firmness in them, but pretending to not be impressed. He fidgeted slightly under your fingertips.

“I want … to go wherever you want to go,” he said, the ambiguous answer making you laugh. Of course, he never let you on just about anything that was churning through that head of his.

“Aah, you’re always like this. No fun,” you jokingly scolding, lightly gripping his thigh and shaking his leg. Your hand slipped a little higher up his thigh making him exclaim.

“I’m kind of driving over here, Y/N,” he cleared his throat, never peeling his eyes from the road.

You pouted before giving him a small smile and slid your hand back down slowly, before retracting your hand back to your lap. You got him to react a little again, and he looked so cute again.

You return to looking out the car window, “How about we just order pizza and have a Disney marathon or something?” You closed your eyes for a moment as you entered a tunnel, there was something calming about being enveloped by complete darkness. “We’ll relive all the emotions.”

“Sounds good to me,” he said as he smoothly, a small smile showing in the corner of his mouth.

“Let’s do it at your place this time,” you added. “I don’t feel like sharing food with my roommate this time, in case she comes home early.”

“Y/N? At my house? Alone together?” Jungkook thought to himself, in all the times you’ve hung out, it was always either out or at your house, where things never got too intimate because of your roommate, who would always barge in to cut any building sexual tension at the worst possible times. In Jungkook’s case, saving him from confronting his desires. Jungkook argued with himself in silence, unsure of himself, recalling his own unpredictability. If you got too close, or overstepped a little more than usual, he doesn’t know what he’d do with himself. You already had your guard down at the lowest it could possibly be, and you were completely unaware of the new risky boundaries you were gambling with.

“She’ll be in my house, lying on my couch, nothing under that sweater, defenseless, unsuspecting, alone with me. Does she have no idea what she does to me? Who am I kidding, of course she does. Her cheeky grin that displays from her satisfaction is practically engraved in my long-term memory. She has no idea what’s she’s getting into. Could I resist her this time? Could I resist the next time she presses her chest against me, next time her lips draw close to whisper in my ear, next time she takes her deviant hand and reaches for my thighs? What if I finally make my advances, what would the look on her face be then? What face would she make when I finally lean in closer, and reach my hand to feel more of her? What more if I touched her myself, if my hand slid from her thigh to her-”

“Kook?” your soft voice put his mental ramble to a halt. “You good with that?” Jungkook felt he’d gotten a semi-hardon, but was thankful the tone of voice in your question wasn’t directing towards it. He pursed his lips, not daring to meet your eyes, gulping nothing but air, and clearing his throat. He mentally waved away his sinful thoughts and nodded.

“I’m good,” he replied to you with ease, never letting his voice waver to expose any of what his train of thought just lead up to. “Just trying to recall if I left my place in any state of dread.”

You let out a relaxed laugh, leaning your head against the car seat, your eyes batting close to slumber. “That’s good,” you yawn. “Wake me when we’re there.”

He lowered the music’s volume a little to help you fall asleep, you smiled again before finally submitting completely to your truly drained self. You allowed yourself to doze off for the rest of the drive, the array of blurry lights decorating the evening sky lulling you to sleep.

Jungkook stole a glance of your sleeping face, eyes trailing through the details of your vulnerable state in awe: the way your long lashes flitted while your eyes dreamed under your lids, the way the night’s glow reflected off the subtle gloss on your lips, and the gentle rise and fall of your chest as you droned off into a deeper sleep. He turned into his apartment complex’s parking lot, slowly easing into his designated parking space. You remained asleep, and you began to mumble.

“Not there,” your voice came out soft and dazed. Your sudden somniloquy took him by surprise, his brown eyes widening to that familiar doe-eyed look, narrowing down to your sleeping body.

“Jeon,” this time Jungkook could have sworn your voice came out in a moan, and felt his ears starting to burn. “Jung,” you mumbled again, shifting just slightly in your seat, your thighs rubbed together, and your brows furrowing for an instant. “Jungkook.”

Jungkook’s face flushed and his hand involuntarily raised up to reach for you. Your face? Your hand? He shook the urges away and instead, loudly opened his car door, knowing the bite of the cold night air would wake up you. You jolted awake from the brush of the night’s breeze on your cheeks. You sat up, looking around, in that post-slumber amnesia-like state, recalling where you are. Jungkook was no longer in the driver’s seat and you looked out the window and notably flinched in your seat to see him standing outside your side of the door, looking around for people as he blew into his palms for warmth. He looked back to you with his hand reaching for your door handle and opened it to be greeted with your flushed face, a mix of drowsiness and whatever emotions your dreams might have enticed you with. He wanted to kiss you right there, because really? Moaning his name in your sleep? You practically attacked him without even being conscious for any of it.

“L-let’s go inside,” Jungkook’s deep stern voice broke the crisp silence of the snowy night, his breath coming out in small puffs of white.

You only had your dream replaying in your mind as you looked up at him before scrambling up and out of your seat. Your dream was so vivid, you almost believed it had really taken place.

In the car during your drive, you dreamt that Jungkook himself had finally made an advance. His hand raised to the hem of your sweater, slipping his hand underneath, letting his hand graze your skin as he slid it to the between your thighs, nothing but your black leggings and black undies as his barrier from your core. Without hesitation, without an ounce of resolve, his rough and large hand palmed your heat before slowly rubbing in painfully slow circles.

You squirmed under his touch, but refused to stop him, this is something you’d always yearned for. You looked up at his face, he still had his eyes on the road, with the same serious, focused expression, completely contrasting the acts his hand was committing to. You let your lips part, a light pant escaping you, as his hand rubbed you faster, with a more fervent pace. Your panting synced with the rhythm, and a moan escapes your lips, syncing with the increasing pressure he applied on your clit. Your hands gripped on the car seat as he persisted. Any further and you were going to–

“Y/N? Come on, it’s freezing out here,” Jungkook’s calm voice snapped you out of your daze. You immediately realized you were standing out in the chilly night air, with Jungkook holding the door open for you. You hurriedly walked in, praying he thought the tint of red on your cheeks were from nothing more than the cold breeze.

In no time at all, the two of you were comfortably splayed out on the couch, eyes glued to the screen as you scrolled through Netflix to get a marathon going. With the remote at your command, Jungkook was on his phone ordering the pizza.

You chose what looked like a minimally cheesy rom-com because you didn’t want to cry. In starting the movie up, you settle into your spot on the couch. Jungkook had laid out a bunch of blankets and pillows, both on the couch and on his carpet. You glanced at him and couldn’t help but notice that his body was awfully stiff and seated noticeably far away from you. Perplexed, you scooched yourself over to him and his eyes shifted from his phone to you.

With a blanket wrapped around you, you leaned on his shoulder peeking at his phone. He was texting someone, and you saw some key words in his messages that struck you into more intrigue. Before you could finish the split second of your wandering eyes, he had locked his phone and cleared his throat.

“Y/N, you’re close,” he said. He kept his eyes glued to the TV.

“alone at my place”, it had said. It piqued your interest for a moment, but he quickly clicked his screen off. You pouted at his evasiveness.

“Kookie, you’re far,” you mocked and childishly cuddled even closer to him, your head resting on his shoulder. He was clearly flustered, and purposely lowered his shoulder until your head could no longer reach him.

Refusing to admit defeat, you lowered your head cheekily, allowing your body to slump down on the couch, until your head landed on his lap. You grinned up at him, feeling accomplished as he glared down at you, his cheeks clearly turning red.

“(Y/N) what are you up to now?” he mumbled, weakly attempting to sound unfazed.

“Nothing,” you replied in a sing-song tone, reaching a hand up to lightly boop his nose. A smile tickled the corners of Jungkook’s lips, he was clearly amused, and may have finally been loosening up.

He looked down at you, keeping eye contact for longer than usual. Your head casually tilts, keeping up the oblivious puppy act, and blink twice at him. His gaze followed the flutter of your lashes.

Suddenly, the intimate silence is broken by an intimate moan. However, the sound came from neither one of you, so with both eyes widened and faces flushed, you directed your eyes to the TV.

The rom-com was proving to be a lot more sexual than you had bargained. The main pairing had been making out aggressively in the middle of a crowded festival, surrounded by oblivious bystanders, cheering and dancing. The man couldn’t keep his hands off her, and they looked desperate to close the lasting distance of their clothing from each other.

In a swift motion, the man picked the girl up, bridal style, catching the crowd’s attention, their hype instigating warm cheers of encouragement, as the pair went to a quieter place.

Your face was tinted pink, and you glanced over at Jungkook’s reaction. He practically forgot he was even nervous about your head on his lap. You watched as his Adam’s apple rose and fell in a slow gulp. Was he thinking what you were thinking?

“It’s getting kinda hot,” you burst up off the couch, catching him off guard.

Before he could say anything, you were making your way down his hall to find his bedroom. You heard him stand up off the couch, a confused and frantic expression plastered on his face. You quickly scurried to the room with the bed before he caught up with you.

“Where do you think you’re going?” His deep voice bellowed from down the hall.

Too late, you were in his room and spotted the door to his closet and quickly hurried in and locking the door behind you. It smelled so strongly of him.

Quickly and giggly, you lifted your shirt off, and started stripping.

*BANG* you jump at the sudden pound at the door, “What the heck are you doing in my closet?!”

You laugh and finish wiggling out of your leggings, and grab one of his big white tees, “Getting comfortable!”

He persisted to knock at the door, and attempt to turn the doorknob, while you slipped on his shirt, and were pleased by the soft cotton contacting your skin, his smell enveloping you. You just were starting to sweat, and impulsively wanted to get rid of your pants and bra.

Just as the hem of the shirt fell past your thighs, the door burst open, and Jungkook bolted in halfway through before freezing, his eyes fixated on you, in your new, more casual attire.

“Fuck,” he cursed under his breath, before clearing his throat and straightening his posture.

“Kinda hot?” He raised a brow, referring to your remark before bolting to his bedroom.

“What did you think I meant, Kookie?” you hummed, skipping closer to him and petting his head like you would a kid.

“I refuse to wear pants any longer!” you declared as you marched past him still dumbfounded in the middle of the doorway. You took a step towards him, and your supple breasts bounced under the white tee, your nipples clearly protruding through the thin fabric. Without another word, Jungkook slammed the door back shut and stomped back to the living room.

“God, you honestly drive me crazy,” Jungkook panted, brushing his fingers through his hair, shaking himself out of a bit of a daze. The temptations and opportunities you laid out on him before, none of them compared to this.

You walked cheekily back to the living room, hands behind your back, and a smile on your face as you thought of more games to play on your little toy Kookie.

Clearly, he didn’t hear you come in, so you stood behind him over the couch, him sitting forward, his broad back good for pouncing on.

In a swift motion, you wrapped your arms over his shoulders, your breasts pressed against his back, “Are they still fucking?” you asked coyly, pretending to have no ulterior motives behind your actions. Reflexively, Jungkook grabs onto your wrists, jumping in place.

You bring your lips closest to his ear, just barely making contact, your lip accidentally nudging one of his piercings with the slight shakiness in your position.

You whispered in that same taunting tone you’ve been testing him with all night, “What are you going to do about it, Jeon?” You smiled deviantly at his expression, at the way his jaw clenched from gulping down air, and the way he darted his head away from you.

‘Thinking about running away again, little rabbit?’ you thought to yourself, feeling like you had backed your prey into a corner once again, seeing his flushed face painted with sexual frustration was starting to get you wet.

Suddenly, Jungkook turns his head back to you, and with a swift motion, grabbed both your wrists and pulled you onto the couch before pushing you roughly to fall back against the couch. Using one hand in a powerful grip, he held your arms over your head.

Taken completely by surprise, a different knot begins to coil in your stomach as you stare up at him with wide eyes and lips parted releasing light pants. His countenance had warped completely from his usual persona, there was no hesitation, no embarrassment, no bashfulness. Only pure unadulterated desire, and his determination to fulfill them.

You remained tense as he lay forward to press his body against yours, feeling a growing bulge press in between your thighs, until his lips are just as close to your ear as you did with him.

“This is what you wanted all along, right Y/N?” His voice grew low and husky, giving you unfamiliar shivers down your spine.

“Hey, come on JK, you’re scaring me,” you squirm underneath him, only to get a more definitive feel of his body pressed against you.  

Jungkook refused to let up on his weight over you. You remained still, cautious of his next move. Your eyes frantically surveyed the situation. You were wearing nothing but his shirt, which already smelled so strongly of him. With him over you, his scent had you completely submerged in his sweet pheromones.

Daring to, your eyes travel from his chest, to his neck where veins seem to be ready to burst, his lips that were parted just the slightest releasing light exhales, and finally to his eyes. His eyes remained glued to yours, piercingly.

He had a serious expression, but not the usual stoicism with tinges of bashfulness like you’re used to. His face seemed shrouded in a darker, carnal yearning. You cursed in the realization that seeing him like this, had you wet. You could feel it, instantly, the familiar heat growing between your legs.

“Kookie?” you tried again, weakly attempting to pull your arms out of his grip. Your chest rose and fell in anticipation. You wince when you feel his grip on your wrists tighten in response to your outburst.

“Stop calling me that,” Jungkook commanded.

“We’re the same age,” he continued. “How long did you think you could get away with babying me?”

You blushed at his serious, deep voice. The way it rumbled against your eardrums sent riveting goosebumps along your skin. Despite being unsure with how you felt about being cornered for once, you couldn’t turn your eyes away from his.

“What’s gotten into you, JK?” you reasoned, your voice failing to sound composed.

“This is the dynamic of our friendship. I’m the teasing noona-type, and you’re the cool-to-flustered, Kook-”

Jungkook plants his lips on yours, cutting you off mid-sentence. The softness tasted faintly of cherry, and slowly moved to encourage your lips to move with him. In being caught off guard, you had let your guard down, giving him instantaneous access to your tongue. With not a moment to process, your body moved on its own.

Your tongue greeted his excitedly, folding and intertwining together, stimulating each other’s taste buds. On your lips, he tasted strawberry, almost like a liqueur. He deepened the kiss, before taking your bottom lip between his teeth to lightly tug, a pained impatience urging you to follow his pull, and suddenly letting go of your lips. He was amused by the way your lips followed, desperate to lock with his again, but he purposely kept his lips out of your reach, relishing the look of complete vulnerability in your face. He was enjoying being the one on the offense for once.

“You want something?” he spoke, his bottom lip glistening from the kiss. You remain speechless, looking up at him with lidded eyes and a fogged conscience.

His motionlessness that persisted for longer than a second earned a stubborn nod from you, impatient for another kiss.

“Tell me what you want,” he demanded in the same hushed, deep voice. At this point, you could feel the marks of his grip familiarizing themselves on your wrists.

“A kiss,” you finally mewl. He bites his lip, enticed by your docile nature.

Jungkook gives you a small smile and leans into you, your heart pumping louder in your ears in anticipation. He brings his lips to you, slowly, eyes scrutinizing every tell in your expression, until his mouth was just barely making contact with your yearning lips.

A small whine escapes your parted lips when he sways past your lips, only to plant a chaste kiss on your forehead. You feel a twitch against your thigh, the tent growing in Jungkook’s jeans hungry for some relief. His heart raced from the sight of you, but composed himself. He was determined to toy with you for longer.

“Not there,” you whined.

Jungkook grunted at your response, suddenly moving to get his weight off you, a hand still gripped around your wrists bringing them down until they rested on your lower stomach. Your eyes widened at the possible outcome in his sudden shift of position.

You merely watched as he placed chaste kisses on your neck, soft and slow, to your collar bone. He was moving lower and lower, grazing a free hand on your exposed thigh, creating goosebumps along the skin he brushed over.

A gasp escapes your throat when Jungkook, without hesitation, pushes your white tee up to expose your chest. You bite your lip, enjoying the sight before you. He kept glancing up to see your subtle reactions, exposing how affected you were by his small actions. He stared at the way your nipples stood, practically begging to be tasted.

He plants the same chaste kiss on your nipple, a devious tongue can’t help but slip out and lightly glide against it, eliciting another wincing moan from you. He smirks at the way your hips instinctively jut out towards him. The sudden feeling of his tongue on your breast causing your sensitive area to now drip in more lewd juices.

“Not there,” you repeat, still unable to form sentences any longer.

Jungkook only smiled to himself, looking back up at you again, with his hair brushed off his forehead. He paused before moving his lips lower again, planting a kiss above your belly button, causing you to squirm. You felt your pussy releasing a lewd nectar with every time his precious lips made contact with your warm skin. You shuddered at the thought of the moment when he’d find out just how much of an impact he made on you.

He trails his kisses down your stomach, small moans can’t help but roll off your tongue. He must have noticed that you had completely submitted yourself to the pleasure, because he had subtly released your wrists to reveal the red-tinged marks kissed upon them. He gripped either of your thighs, you realized he had positioned his head comfortably between your legs. You salivated at the sight, the way his hungry eyes looked up at you, fully aware of what he was about to do to you.

Jungkook turned his gaze to the plump triangle of the white satin fabric before him, a mere inch from his lips. His eyes inspected closely, salivating from the way the fabric clung to your heat due to the juices that persisted to drip out of your pussy. He could clearly see every fold, traced by the fabric, the view brought him to subconsciously lick his lips before biting down roughly on his bottom lip.

A minute rush of embarrassment rushed to the pit of your stomach, and your legs gestured to close, but he stopped you. He simply held them strongly in place, and pushed them even wider apart, bringing the embarrassing view even closer to him. Your pussy twitched from his effort in keeping your legs apart, his eyes burning into the cloaked heat. His eyes glinted with lust to see the material become just a slightest shade darker, becoming coated in more of your lewd juices.

Unable to hold back any longer, he kissed your inner thighs frantically, moving dangerously close to the covered sweetest space. Your small moans grew more fervent with his pace, and finally a louder moan bursts out of you when he hurriedly moves the fabric aside to ravenously attack the glossy folds that beckoned for his tongue.

Your fingers shakily reach out to his tousled hair, running your fingers through the soft brown locks as his tongue flattened against you, lapping at your pussy like some wolf in heat. You came undone under his tongue, body squirming uncontrollably, your legs threatening to close around him, but his strong grips on thighs would not allow it.

“Oh god, there,” you moaned, letting your head lean backwards against the couch, lids shut tightly with brows furrowed from the ecstasy. Your hips rolled against his tongue, and in reaction his hands slid up your thighs to your ass, where he sinks his fingers against the velvety smooth skin.

He kissed your pussy hungrily, unashamedly letting his mouth become coated in your nectar, burying his face between your legs. Your moans become staggered as your breath begins to catch in your throat. A familiar knot above your pelvis was painfully close to unraveling.

You suck in a small breath of air when you feel his tongue on your clit, rolling figure-eights along the swollen bundle of nerves. Your fingers ball into quaking fists in Jungkook’s hair, only further pushing him to quicken his pace. He knew you were close, and braced himself for his next calculated move.

Your furrowed brows and reddened cheeks said it all, and your body moved against his tongue, losing all restraint. He could hear the volume in your moans elevating, like some sex-driven uproar. His tongue persisted the quick pace, flat up and down against your soaking heat.

“Jungkook!” your moan of his name catches in your throat a split-second before you knew your mind would go completely blank.

And with that.

Jungkook’s tongue stopped moving completely. He refused to let you finish.

A rush of tormenting pleasure floods through you, rooted from your core. You felt as if your body clung at the edge of a cliff, unable to let go, restrained from the most satisfying relief. Tears welled in your eyes from the painful indulgence in being denied the ultimate gratification.

Your body shook underneath his grip, legs specifically wanting to thrash uncontrollably, and body begging to be touched.

“You fucking jerk,” you mewl in a most fragile tone, fists shakily relaxing against his hair. Deep down, you enjoyed every second of electrifying torture from the denial of your orgasm. A tinge of shame urged you to deny enjoying it at all.

“Aw poor baby,” Jungkook mocked you playfully before sitting up to position his hips against your pussy.

Your lust-driven state of mind snaps your attention back to him, greedy for his next move. You ogle over the sight of him pulling his shirt over his head, revealing the faint glisten of sweat on his muscles. Your ears ring from the sound of his zipper becoming undone, and your eyes immediately gaze from his face, panning slowly to see him slowly stroking his throbbing member. Your hands subconsciously reached weakly for him.

His flushed face, panting as he beheld the sight of your orgasm-deprived body before him, turned you on even more, if that was even possible.

He smirks at the way your hypnotized expression, moving forward until his face is in front of yours once again, an arm supporting himself above you. His other hand continued to slowly stroke his erection.

“I wonder if I can make it up to you,” he teased as his lips moved closer to yours like before, only to back away far enough to keep himself out of your reach.

You pouted and slung your arms over his neck to try and pull him towards you. Your strength was no match for his adamant form, and he only smiled cunningly at your troubled face.

You part your lips to possibly fight back, but a moan replaces whatever useless words might have been spoken. Jungkook had moved his hips ever so slightly forward so that his tip could slide against your dripping wet pussy. He continued to stroke, every stroke gliding his tip along your busy and pressing down slightly on your clit. He bites his lips at the way your pleasure-pained expression unfolded in front of him.

“Fuck,” you groaned as your hips grind against his tip, covered in both his pre-cum and your lubricious juices.

“Yes, you can.” your voice mewls in pure elation, your arms linger over his neck constantly trying to pull him to you, to no avail.

His hot breath hits your ear when he brings his lips to your ear, “Tell me how.”

Your eyes roll shut from the vibrations his deep voice sends through your ears. Your legs attempt to wrap themselves around Jungkook’s waist, pathetically too weak to even make him budge.

“Fuck me,” you admit.

“Fuck me until I come, please Jungkook,” you beg. You had moved your lips directly to his ear, and his cock throbs at the sound of your pleading.

“Please, Jungkook, I can’t wait anymore,” you continued to plead as your hips grind in want.

“Good girl,” Jungkook said pleased, before thrusting forward to ram his entire length inside of you. Your arms immediately wrap over his shoulders, fingers pining for somewhere to grab hold of.

His moans are instantly synchronized with yours as he pumps in and out of you with ease, the wet sloshing of your pussy shamelessly echoing through the room and through your ears. The sting in the way his hips would hit against yours only making the intensity of your moans increasingly insatiate.

The sensation of a knot begging to unravel in your core returned easily as he pounded in and out of you mercilessly. Your nails dug red into the muscles in his back, and mouth hung agape from the constant moans and panting, in attempt to keep oxygen flowing through your lungs.

You felt yourself tighten against him, his thrusts hindered for only a moment.

“If you tighten so much I can barely pull out,” Jungkook growled before reaching his hand to clasp around your neck.

Your eyes flutter up and shut from the way his grip began to take away your control in your breaths. You felt it. It was coming. As he choked you, you were about to come completely undone at his grasp.

Within a few powerful thrusts, Jungkook groaned and grinded his hips slowly in and out of you, relishing the sensation of your juices coating his cock as your pussy convulsed around him. Allowing you to ride out your orgasm, he keeps his hand wrapped around your neck, the lack of oxygen adding to the intensity of your climax. You shudder underneath him, nails dragging across his back.

In feeling the convulsions begin to stagger, he slowly loosens his grip around your throat, immediately letting out a loud moan after taking in a deep breath of air. Your back arched as your orgasm continued, pressing your breasts against his sweaty chest, he quickly moves to cup his lips around your nipple to add to the stimulation. You curse at the added pleasure, adding splashes of colour in your completely fogged out mind.

As you continued to jerk your body against him, Jungkook slips a hand between your bodies, to place two fingers against your clitoris, vigorously rubbing as you tensed completely against him. Your body thrashed in protest from the over-stimulation, as your legs extended, toes pointed as an orgasm instantly followed another. You cursed uncontrollably as your body entered a state of euphoria. He kept a steady pace in and out of your ravaged pussy.

“Fuck, Jungkook!” you managed to form real words somehow as you rode your fifth orgasm against him.

“Stop, please!” you pleaded as he continued to pierce through you with his hot enlarged member.

“You’re. going to. fucking. break me.” you moaned in between each thrust as your felt your mind unwinding to levels above cloud nine.

“I can’t stop,” He growled.

“You haven’t stopped tightening against me,” he moaned. “I’m about to fucking cum.”

His voice echoed through your head like the world’s sweetest fucking symphony. Your legs, though with very little strength remaining in them, wrapped around Jungkook once again.

“Fuck yes, please fill me up Jungkook,” you moaned with a raspy voice, slowly losing your voice from all the screaming and panting. Your head hadn’t wrapped around the fact that you were about to come harder than you had all night.

Hearing you beg for his cum inside you, and hearing his name moaned out once more by your sweet voice pushed him to the edge, and so he gripped your plump ass to pump in and out of your swollen pussy at an ungodly pace. You screamed his name, syllable by syllable, until you felt the first rush of his cum bursting into you. You came again instantly, your breathe hitching in your throat once again as you threw your head back, arching your back from the couch once again.

The volume of Jungkook’s moans gradually increased as he came, coming at as whines as he finished his release deep inside your insatiable pussy. Your ears had been filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin, and suddenly, the room was filled with a peaceful silence. He carefully pulled out of you with a lasting groan.

A silence with only the sound of each other’s heavy breaths. Jungkook released his grip on your ass, his hand prints leaving red marks on the soft skin, and leans to hold you.

Unable to help himself, he leans in to lock lips with you, folding his lips with yours clumsily. When he backs away from the kiss, still panting, he looks back into your eyes longingly. His hand reaches up to rest on your cheek, brushing his thumb across it.

“Remember this for next time,” he said calmly.

“Next time?” you spoke with your eyes still closed.

“Next time you want to treat me like a toy,” he said, a dangerously dominating tone remaining in his response.

Almost too drained to banter with him, you smile lightly and open your eyes slowly to meet his gaze.

“Only makes me want to tease you even more,” you managed to joke, though your mind floated.

“Kookie,” you teased.

As if at the snap of a cord, Jungkook pulls you into another kiss you and snakes his hand back down between your legs.

Incredibly sensitive, your body reflexively moves away from his touch.

“Call me that one more time,” he smiled as his hand chased your heat as you tried to jerk away from him. “I dare you.”

A/N:  Wow, I wrote that sex scene in literally 3 hours. I love when I get the urge to write when I have a shit ton of responsibilities for uni that I should be tending to. I hope you guys enjoyed this! Upvote if ya got horny? Kidding, but yeah leave a comment about your favourites, I like feedback because I’d like to know what effectively triggers the thirst yenno? Anyway, I need to go drown in some holy water now, bye~

[underappreciatedsterek]

UnderappreciatedSterek 2017 Masterpost

I can’t believe it’s been almost a year since I started this blog, or that I’ve managed to rack up a total of 108 recs so far!

Special thanks to @notvirginawoolf for the many recs they sent in over the year, and also to every other person who made a submission. I still have plenty to get around to, so keep an eye out for many more recs to come!

I’ve started the list with some of my personal favourites, with everything under the cut in rec order (sorry in advance for mobile users!) I can guarantee no matter which fic you pick, you’ll find an overlooked gem on the other side.

(I ended up having trouble whenever I exited edit mode when making this post where all the links would disappear. I had to remove some of the author tags to keep them working, but then they disappeared if I used the banner I’d made. So if the links aren’t there when this goes live... I’ll try working on it again T_T If you find any mistakes, please let me know, though I’m honestly loath to touch this again!)

A Bid from Midnight by Zercalo | 5572w | General

Derek’s been holed up in the middle of nowhere for a few months now, so Stiles makes a detour to check up on him. Because Scott is worried. (Scott is not that worried.)

And Pink Shoelaces by LupusScintilla (inkandblade) | 8842w | Mature

It was Derek’s turn. It had to be. He looked at the comm-disc in his hand. Even if he had to debase himself with going to this damned matchmaking service, he was determined to find his mate.

Any Other Name by twobirdsonesong | 979w | General

Stiles just wants to know what he smells like to Derek.

Counting Kisses by carolion | 327w | General

Derek has not kissed anyone in a very long time. But this is the first time he really wants to again.

Dealing with Werewolves by foolish_mortal | 2565w | General

In which Stiles runs away to live with the dragons and meets a werewolf.

In spite of all you knew and said by Azul_Bleu | 2700w | Mature

The road streams behind them, mile upon mile until Stiles can’t say where they even started, and Stiles talks so he won’t have to remember.

Or, Derek and Stiles deal with being the ones left behind. They’re not great at it.

(Set post an imaginary S3, where the Alphas win. Spectacularly.)

i've got someone else in mind by blueinkedbones | 2845w | General

“That’s just a mutual thing we have going on!” Stiles argues. “Like an unspoken arrangement, you know?”

Erica is generally smug at him. Stiles slumps.

“Of love, you’re saying. We have an unspoken arrangement of love, and it’s so unspoken neither of us knows about it.”

Keystone (3-part series) by Chandri / @chandri | 106,961w | Explicit

A world without parents is a lonely, portless world with no safety and no justice - this is a truth Stiles Stilinski learned when he was very young. But at nine years old, at twelve, he couldn’t understand just how true it was; that the powerful, indefinable wrongness that obscured his memories of his mother was more than a child’s sense of unfairness at having his mom taken away.

It’s not until a globetrotting great-aunt blows back into town after a many-years absence that it starts to dawn on him: that his mother’s death was anything but natural; that it was certainly anything but fair.

Reindeer in the (Library) Closet by Rainfallen | 3247w | Teen

Derek just wanted to put the spare network cables away and escape from Erica, not get accosted in the storage closet by a boy wearing the most atrocious Christmas sweater he’s ever seen. On second thought, though, the accosting maybe wasn’t such a bad idea.

The Field by Gimmie | 1625w | General

When he turned back to the field, he zoned in on the sudden appearance of Derek Hale, being led by the hand toward the meadow. He looked hesitant, but the girl was smiling with her head tilted and persuading him, pulling him along. Stiles stopped eating, stopped breathing, and stared as the older boy that he always noticed, as if he had a radar that could detect his presence, was finally led onto the field. The delay was not for lack of trying by the human girls of Beacon Hills High.

the pivot point by subnivean | 461w | General

Don’t be nice to me.

We Pick Ourselves Undone by StilesInTheGlade | 1583w | General

It was a habit, maybe even a compulsion, that Derek noticed in the aftermath of the Nogitsune. Stiles would periodically count off his fingers. One by one, from the thumb of his left hand to the thumb of his right, long fingers ticking as he marked them off, lips silently moving along, one, two, three…

when i look at you (oh, i don't know what's real) by verity | 1304w | Mature

Scott slows his pace during cross-country and falls back from Isaac to join Stiles at the rear of the group. “Hey, have you seen Derek recently?” Scott says, faux-casual like Stiles hasn’t watched him try to lie to their parents since they were five.

“Nope,” Stiles says. “Haven’t seen him in a week.” Unless he counts the Derek he dreams about on the regular, but if Stiles has learned anything from Lydia Martin and his umpteen-year-plan, it’s that the people in your dreams and the people in your reality are never one and the same.

Fuck Me in the Ass Cause I Love Jesus by WriteByNight | 3370w | Mature

Now that Stiles was a college graduate and still living at home, he had decided to help out as the organ player for the duration of the summer. The last organist had unexpectedly kicked the bucket and although there were a few people with more experience than Stiles, no one had the free time that he did so he’d reluctantly accepted the position.

Stiles thought it would put him back in the big guy’s good graces after all the fucking up he’d done as a kid…teen…okay, his entire life.

There wasn’t really another benefit to the arrangement. Stiles didn’t even have a keyboard at home, so he had to come to church every Wednesday and Saturday and practice for the Sunday services. Luckily, some of the more experienced players covered the choir practices for him. Playing and hearing hymns three times a week was more than enough for him.

However, about a week and a half into his time as organist he’d come across another perk. The groundskeeper and maintenance man, Derek Hale.

You’ve got me slippin’ and a slidin’ by ElisAttack / @iamonlydancing | 3683w | General

The snowmobile stutters to a halt on the banks of the river and Derek smiles when he sees a few ravens flying in circles in the distance.  The salmon are here.

“Seems like I’m your lucky charm,”  Stiles says with a wink.

Or the one where Derek lives in the middle of nowhere, and is probably in love with his delivery boy.

The Truth Behind The Pictures by Boy_On_Strings | 7796w | Explicit

Stiles learns to paint. Derek learns something about Stiles.

Ember by heavy_cream | 2825w | Explicit

Sleepy sunday morning sex.

Never Been Kissed by TheLittlestBoho | 2103w | General

Derek and Stiles touch, but they don’t kiss.

"My Wolf-Man" by write_light | 12,935w | Mature

Forest and castle, wolf and man, a vengeful spirit and true love, so much misfortune and so many masks. And a tray full of desserts. How do happy endings work? Prince Stiles, a human; Derek Hale, a werewolf; Talia & the ghost of Derek’s father; Uncle Peter and Evil Aunt Kate; Stiles’ parents, the king and queen.

The Time John Stilinski Learned To Knock by 42hrb / @exhuastedpigeon | 819w | Mature

John Stilinski comes home from a long shift and just wants to relax, then he hears a noise coming from Stiles’ room. (Prompts: 76. “Please put your penis away.”)

Like Immortality by Idday | 4815w | Teen

Dear Derek,

All these words, and what I’m trying to say is simple.

I want to love you like you deserve to be loved. I want to share your triumphs, your burdens, your full moons and your new. I want you to be as sure of my love as you are the phases of the moon.

I want to love you like the moon loves you.

(I told you that one day I would write you a love letter).

…

OR, Stiles and Derek, in letters, through the years.

carry me to love again by nighimpossible | 3000w | Mature

Stiles picks up Derek on the side of the road. Post 3A.

Thin Mints and Meddling by myhomeboy_stilinski | 5388w | Teen

Stiles would be the first person to admit that living in a small town had its drawbacks, with privacy being non-existent and sneaking around near impossible. But there was something to be said about the solidarity and loyalty that filled a close-knit community. People stood up for one another. They contributed and helped. They loved each other. Truthfully, Stiles pitied those who incited the wrath of someone from Beacon Hills.

To Stiles’ eternal gratitude, he had never prompted said wrath.

That is, until he met Derek Hale.

**** The one where the people of Beacon Hills realize that Derek Hale deserves nice things (in case you missed the tags.)

Whiskey Haze by Piscaria | 3221w | Teen

Stiles blinks drunkenly up at the ceiling, wondering who he knows who’s over 21 and a little bit shady.

Stiles had been dreading this day for years.

Leap of Faith by Batwynn | 710w | General

Derek watches his somewhat-friend become weather worn and tired, and thinks, ‘Why Stiles? Why him?’

Okay Will Get Us Through by clotpolesonly / @clotpolesonly | 41,955w | Mature

It was supposed to be a peaceful fucking protest. Stiles heard the first shot loud and clear, though, and was too boxed in to duck, even as his stomach felt like it fell out of his body entirely. For a second all he could think was “Scott is gonna be so mad, I said it would be fine, I promised,” and then he was falling.

First Born Unicorn by dragon-temeraire / @dragon-temeraire | 1982w | General

Something mysterious has returned to the preserve, but for once it’s not dangerous.

Decision by verushka70 | 17,398w | Explicit

Derek goes out to bars wishing he’d never been born and gives himself to almost anyone who wants to take him home. He wets his face in the sweat that runs down men’s chests and doesn’t shower after. Back home, the scents dare Laura to say something. She never does.

Derek grabs her in a quick hug. “I’m fine,” he murmurs, face tucked into her hair, scenting sister, pack, family, love. They both know it’s not true. But she lets it go.

The Devil You Know by verushka70 | 14,629w | Explicit

“So,” Derek says like it’s utterly obvious. (It’s not, it’s totally not). It’s hard to know how to take someone you can’t really read.

His tongue licks between Stiles’ lips like all of this was never in question. Was it? No, not really, because: Derek.

Gut Feeling by Chubstilinski / @chubstilinski | 29,842w | Explicit

Stiles was maybe, possibly, mildly obsessed with his favorite regular, Deputy Derek Hale. But in his defense, Derek seemed just as obsessed with Stiles. Or at least, Stiles’s baked goods, if his appetite for sweets and increasing waistline were anything to go by.

Comfort Drabble by wildwerewolfweirdness | 100w | General

They didn’t get on, Stiles and Isaac.

Happily Ever After by endoftheline7 | 3080w | Teen

The Sheriff finds out about Derek and Stiles, and doesn’t react well. At all. In fact, he ends up asking for the worst.

Family dinner.

Peter Plays The Long Game by HurrahForSmut | 2314w | Teen

She’d almost forgotten Peter, which is always a mistake.

Unchained Melody (2 part series) by swing set in december | 3825w |

Teen

Haunting requires skill and showmanship. Something werewolves will never understand.

Amber by cobrilee | 1283w | Teen

Derek stood by the bar, ostensibly waiting for the bartender to swing by and take his order, but in reality, he couldn’t care less if the bartender ever noticed him. He just wanted to have a legitimate reason to not have to hang out with his friends.  

A Taunting of Ravens to You by keelover | 17,830w | Mature

Stiles, plagued by uncertainty, would like to know whether or not he would be strong enough to survive the bite. Lydia, awake, but not entirely the same after her ordeal, offers him some insight with that tricky moon mirror of hers. And what does Derek think about all of this? The hell if anyone knew.

the wilderness (3-part series) by ceserabeau | 9202w | Explicit

When Stiles pictured Derek’s return to Beacon Hills, he never imagined this: late night in the cereal aisle at the grocery store, Stiles in sweatpants and a shirt long overdue a wash, glancing left from the Captain Crunch and Lucky Charms to find Derek Hale, four feet away, pulling a box of muesli off the shelf.

Lock Me Up by FairydustOnRoses | 3410w | Explicit

Stiles is home for Thanksgiving break. He traveled across the country from Columbia University and is looking forward to spending time with Scott and his dad and stuffing his face on Thursday. He is not looking forward to running into a certain broody werewolf that he may or may not have left in bed after a hookup only hours before he got on the plane to New York back in August.

Swallow by carolion | 469w | Teen

Stiles looks good when he swallows. Derek tells him so.

He’ll bleed you ‘til you’re just bone and skin by ElisAttack | 2236w | Explicit

It’s moments when Stiles feels the dull pull of the bruises on his hips, moments when he can’t sleep on his stomach because the throbbing ache does nothing for a good night’s sleep, it’s those moments that make him feel worthless.

Makes him hate Derek with a passion that burns brighter than anything else he feels.

Or the one where Derek doesn’t know his strength, but Stiles knows he deserves it.

Moon Fever (10-part series) by mytimehaspassed | 30,612w | Mature

Derek moves into Stiles’ old house on a Monday.

Jacket by thatmcbastard (blueb1rd) | 335w | General

Stiles just keeps shivering and looking all vulnerable and pathetic. It’s annoying, alright?

Scream Wolf by grangerinvestigations | 13,966w | Teen

Someone’s taken their love of werewolf movies one step too far.

what in carnation? by haleofStilesheart | 2985w | General

Deliveryman wasn't exactly Derek's dream job but it helped put him through school so he couldn't complain. Especially since it helped him meet the love of his life.

Breathe a Little Easier by Scavenger | 3492w | Teen

Five years ago, he would never have imagined life being this easy, this good.

Take A Breath, Let It Out by northern | 2703w | Teen

Derek can smell the discomfort radiating off of Stiles. What going against his instincts is doing to his sweat and his breath. But as long as Derek can’t smell hesitation, it’s fine. He can deal with Stiles hating himself a little. He can’t deal with having killed Stiles.

We Den Our Hearts Here by LadyLade | 1921w | Teen

Somehow, having a pack of wolf pups has made Derek’s life easier.

Staying by secretagentwolf / @secretagentwolf | 4571w | Teen

Stiles shows up at Derek’s apartment door one day asking to stay. Derek surprises them both by accepting. He does his best to make Stiles feel safe and he doesn’t ask. Eventually, though, Stiles tells him.

This Will Definitely Hurt by write_light | 285w | General

That time when Stiles pulled a back muscle and Derek and the Sheriff had a (thankfully not literal) pissing match about how to take care of him. (est. relationship, Sheriff knows)

Seven Wonders by dadvans / @dadvans | 2988w | General

Stiles sees Beacon Hills through ancient parallels. Derek thinks he’s cursed.  

The Amazing Part Is by TroubleIWant / @troubleiwant | 2407w | General

You’re in love with a beautiful boy, and the amazing part is that he loves you back. He’s all dark honey eyes and buttermilk skin, moles down his neck that he lets you kiss and kiss again. He’s all sharp laughter and too wide sweeps of his arms, and it’s been ten months but you’re not thinking about your first anniversary, you’re thinking about forever.

and in your hand a skeleton key by faerielissa | 5474w | Teen

How was it that, of everyone from home, besides his dad of course, he missed Derek the most?

Find Me Sitting Fireside by kaistrex | 13,282w | Teen

With the news that an Alpha wants Beacon Hills for their own, Derek and Stiles are forced to attend a couples retreat at a ski resort to learn their enemy’s identity. However, the threat is the least of Derek’s problems when he’s expected to fake a relationship, share a bed and suffer through candlelit dinners with the man he’s secretly been in love with for the past four years.

At Least Our Theme Song Rocks by Deviousness_Carter | 907w | Teen

After years of being a technician, Stiles finally passes his field exam and gets to save the world. Unfortunately, he gets neither a mask nor a tux.

punitive acts by subnivean | 3881w | Explicit

Two idiots, both alike in indignity, or something, whatever.

Let Me Catch Your Laughter Upon My Tongue by monopolizeme | 1295w

| Teen

Stiles doesn’t laugh.

It’s not something that Derek has ever put much thought into before, because he’s never had a reason to focus on something that’s never been there before. But Stiles doesn’t laugh – he snarks with sly lips and snorts in indignation when he thinks that he’s heard something completely foolish and he huffs out a noise of victory when he succeeds at something but Stiles doesn’t laugh.

Laura Was Right by Sheepnamedpig | 1446w | Explicit

The first and last time Derek and his ghost boyfriend ever have sex in front of a mirror.

(I Will) Remember Your Name by saraubs | 1088w | Mature

Forced onto the sands to pay for his crimes against the Empire (also see: avenging his family), Derek just fights to unleash the anger, not caring if he lives or dies. Well, that is, until he comes face to face with a certain smart-mouthed body slave, and finds there are still some things worth fighting for.

I Know by Nival_Vixen / @nivalvixen | 1050w | Mature

Stiles has lost himself, he’s drowning, and he doesn’t know if he’ll make it back up to the surface.

The - Mistake by kaistrex | 504w | General

Four-year-old Derek mistakes Sheriff Stilinski for his mate.

That's Where It Is by LupusScintilla (inkandblade) | 22,815w | Mature

At twenty-two, the age of a Master-Builder according to the Number Law the Elder Council used, Derek was at the perfect age to break away from his family’s over extended pack and construct his own. As with all Alphas ready to take that step, he needed a Mate: no pack could be led by only one mind.  

This Must Be What Going Mad Feels Like by LadyLade | 902w | Teen

Then Derek twitches, sees Scott looking at him, and glares. “What?” he snarls.

Does…does Derek look a little guilty?

Oh Jesus. This is not happening.

-

Teen Wolf kink meme prompt: Holy shit, Scott thinks, horrified. Because Derek isn’t staring creepily at some unidentified point in the distance. Derek is staring at his best friend’s ass.

Know Thy Worth (2-part series) by Ishtar12 / @mommalosthermind | 15,983w | General

His Dad’s been snatched by a rival pack. His first kiss with Derek anchored his magic, sealed him to the pack, and maybe even Derek himself. Stiles has no idea what’s going on in his life right now, and less time to figure it out.

Day 4: On a date by starkology (jawnwatson) | 501w | General

Stiles and Derek try to go on a date.

With You (You'll Find Me) by CigarettesandCider / @kieren-fucking-walker | 1993w | Teen

“I need a fic of Stiles leaving Beacon Hills to find Derek because he can’t deal with that town and it’s people anymore. I want Derek doing some grocery shopping and then Stiles scent hits him hard and he just kinda whimpers and follows it till he finds Stiles there looking at him. I want Derek asking Stiles how did he find him and Stiles just shrugs and says he had a feeling. I want Stiles following Derek to his car when Derek tilts his head motioning to the parking lot because they don’t need words. And then finally when they’re inside Derek’s little apartment (there’s nothing fancy about it but it’s homey and there are pictures of Cora and him on the walls) Stiles finally crumbles and Derek just holds him.”

Meddling Ghosts by haipanda / @haihaipanda | 1837w | General

Stiles would like to remind everyone that he is not crazy and he does not see hallucinations. The fact that no one else can see ghosts is really not his fault and the rest of the world could be a bit more understanding.

Corpse Flower by Spikedluv / @spikedluv | 2253w | Teen

Stiles thinks that having sex with Derek will make him less distracting.

Lightsabers and Leverage by SourwolfSymphony | 581w | Teen

Stiles avoids studying for exams by calling Derek to rant about Star Wars; he doesn’t realize it’s 3am. Derek is worried and displeased.

REASONS I WOULD DATE DEREK HALE by Idday | 7284w | Teen

When Stiles moves back to Beacon Hills after college, he pretty much immediately decides to convince Derek Hale to date him.

Unfortunately for him, it seems as though they’re not on the same page. Like, Derek thinks Stiles hates him (and apparently, so does everybody else). And surprisingly, none of Stiles SUPER ROMANTIC (screw you, Scott) plans to woo Derek seem to be working. Probably because Derek still thinks Stiles is making fun of him. Or something.

But Stiles is nothing if not stubborn. He’s going to win Derek over. No matter what.

His 10 point lists are definitely going to help (no matter what Lydia says).

Get Me With Those Green Eyes, Baby by penlex | 2110w | Teen

Stiles wakes up alone, but that’s okay because he has to go to school anyway. Right. It’s totally fine.

“What’s your problem, Stilinski?” Jackson barked, right when Stiles blurted, “I feel like my life’s soundtrack is made up of Taylor Swift hits.”

Nightcall by oldestcharm / @oldestcharm | 3086w | General

Getting as far away from Beacon Hills as humanly possible is much easier when you have supernatural friends… acquaintances… err, something.

Can't Control Myself by JueJueBahn | 10,940w | Explicit

Stiles is showering innocently but then omg a wild Derek appears and might or might not be intoxicated with weird supernatural stuff.

This Was How Legends Were Made by Delta_Immortal | 108,501w | Explicit

Caught between the Hales and the Argents in their war, Stiles finds himself a slave of the great Hale pack. Stiles spends each day working hard, hoping to earn his freedom and see his sick father. It also seems each day he’s capturing more and more attention from Derek, the young Hale lord. Stiles tells himself it’s mostly because Derek is merely trying to figure out how to send the annoying, useless slave away- not because of affection, despite the tales coming from the rumor mill.

It doesn’t matter what Derek’s intentions are. Stiles can’t bother with love right now. He’s got to keep his head down and survive long enough to keep his promise to Kate Argent. After all, she’s promised to keep his father safe.

Occasionally Domestic (Series) by Little Spoon (JaydenNara) | 36,523~w | Explicit

The day of graduation, Stiles left Beacon Hills behind when he hopped into Derek’s car and never looked back. He’s living in New York with Derek and attending Columbia University on a partial scholarship. Only, no one seems to realize that Derek and Stiles are very much together, and sickeningly happily so, because that had never been on anyone’s radar.

(or – Stiles and Derek, occasionally domestic.)

No Filter by kaistrex | 1213w | Teen

When Derek was hired to photograph some up-and-coming novelist for his book jacket, he was expecting someone stuffy, middle-aged and, well, bookish.

That’s not what he gets. At all.

Beacon Gills by kitsunequeen | 4226w | Teen

When Stiles accompanies Scott on a trip to his uncle’s beach house, he gets more than he bargained for after running into a pack of mermaids with a particularly attractive leader…

Last Word by Sheepnamedpig | 953w | Explicit

Someone is wrong on the internet.

Bravado by orphan_account | 3545w | Explicit

Something good finally happens to Derek Hale.

(Spoiler alert: that something is Stiles.)

Put a spell on me please? by ssleif | 3154w | Explicit

Derek has a dilemma, and figures Stiles, sneaky clever Slytherin that he is, might be able to help. Or: Teenage wizards having an illicit first-time rendezvous while their dorm mates are elsewhere.

Gnashing Teeth and Criminal Tongues (conspire against the odds) by

LadySlytherin | 14,269w | Mature

When Stiles mouths off to the wrong set of witches, he finds himself unable to control his tongue around a certain alpha werewolf. As Stiles struggles with the lesson the witches want him to learn, he knows it’s only a matter of time until the truth comes out. It always does.

Tie [taɪ] by LupusScintilla (inkandblade) | 5164w | Mature

Unable to talk his way out of attending the Wordsmith’s Masquerade, Derek thinks he’ll have to suffer through in silence. Luckily, someone else is there to do the talking for him.

Everything to Destruction by MajorAccent | 559w | Teen

Potentially evil. Potentially good. Just this huge powerful potentiality waiting to be shaped.

Wooden Smiles, Raging Sea by dedougal | 3466w | Mature

Stiles had no idea where the black smoke had come from and he had a feeling he really didn’t want to know.

Make us laugh (or nothing will) by rohkeutta | 31,005w | Teen

When Derek Hale left Beacon Hills at 18 to become a kickboxing champion, he thought he would never return. But here he is, seven years later: trying to salvage something from the ruins of his life, eighteen months after the house fire that killed his parents and left him limping and without a future. Enter Stiles, a college dropout Derek might or might not have been friends with in high school, and the unexpected interest he manifests towards the love of Derek’s life.

The Theory of No Control by howl-to-the-wind (greenleaf) | 27,989w |

Mature

“–kick your scrawny butt all over the Muertes Archipelago, Bilinski! Get out of there or I will feed you to a Stegosaurus!”

“First of all, having me come out from here and then tossing me to the dinos kinda defeats the purpose of it all, since I already am in a dinosaur cage. Second, Stegosauruses are herbivores, which means they will definitely pass on biting my rear end. And third, my butt is not scrawny, though I didn’t know you were even looking, Coach. I’m flattered.”

“BILINSKI!!”

Derek groaned. “Oh no.”

“Oh, yes.” Scott grinned. He ran off, no doubt excited to watch his reckless best friend and cheer him on. He was such a damn enabler.

trick or treat (say something sweet) by dyobrienz (Muffintine) | 2712w |

General

“And,” Bat Kid sniffles, “a werewolf stole my candy, mommy – a werewolf!”

or: Three Halloweens from Derek’s perspective. Past, Present, Future.

Haleoween by redhoodedwolf | 6952w | Teen

“So what are you looking to get?” he inquired.

“Alright, well, the theme I’m going for is Badass Little Red Riding Hood.”

Derek arched an eyebrow, not judgingly, but curiously. “Interesting. Skirt and all?”

Stiles’ cheeks flushed at the joke. “Pfft, nah, not for this one.” Derek’s face flushed at that.

temporary tattoos make meaningful love tokens by Siriusstuff | 2126w |

General

Trick-or-treating with young Stiles, Scott, Derek and his sisters.

The Best Thing Since Peanuts by phlossie | 2042w | Teen

At this moment in time though, with gyrating attractive people who were not even remotely interested in gyrating in his vicinity also pretending he didn’t exist, Stiles felt that maybe the several month long moratorium should come to an end.

At least that way they could be miserable together.

Spell It Out For Me by chubstilinski | 14,766w | Explicit

But now Stiles was, well. He was fat. Not extremely so, just a little chubby, really, but it was exaggerated, every curve highlighted by the tightness of clothes made for a slender body. His Clark Kent slacks clung to thick thighs and cut into his hips. A substantial belly and small muffin top spilled over the waistband, stretching the buttons on his clean shirt. Derek could see the swell of his chest where the Superman logo peeked out from the undone top buttons, and he felt like he was going crazy. Stiles was gorgeous.

Or, on Halloween, Stiles gets jinxed by a hoodoo practitioner into gaining weight very rapidly. Derek thinks it’s sexy. Stiles thinks Derek is sexy. Shenanigans ensue.

Tricky to Treat by khasael | 2524w | Mature

Stiles loves Halloween. Derek hates it. Luckily, Stiles has a plan.

who nursey says is dead by demonicweirdo | 6357w | Mature

“I’m fine,” Stiles mutters, gritting his teeth through the searing pain. The hand pressed to his neck comes away drenched in blood. “Maybe not. I’m going to die here, in this shitty house, on Halloween.”

Haunted by kitsunequeen | 436w | General

First thing’s first, Derek is a liar.

1) Stiles is absolutely not afraid.


2) He did not shriek. He may have gasped, like, once. 


3) Clinging to Derek’s arm is in no way an indication of fear. He just really loves his boyfriend, okay? Really really. And his arm is comfortable to hold on to. That is all.

Rescue my cat from me by Hepzheba | 897w | General

Firefighter Derek has to retrieve a cat from a tree. He’d rather ogle the cat’s owner, despite the ridiculous sweater said owner is wearing.

Halloween by MissDizzyD | 903w | Teen

Stiles and Derek spend Halloween night watching horror films and dishing out candy.

Hallowe'en at Hale's! by lunaraindrop | 635w | General

After months of not hearing from Derek, Stiles decides to throw a Halloween Party at Derek’s loft. Could Stiles have ulterior motives besides dressing up and dancing?

Garbage Bag Ghosts by twisting_vine_x | 759w | General

This is literally just Stiles and Derek being dorky boyfriends and decorating for Halloween.

One Of These Days by dedougal | 552w | Teen

Stiles knows he shouldn’t just walk in on Derek. Anyway, Derek should hear him coming.

It Takes Time by kingandmoon | 3585w | Teen

He had no job, his pack had scattered for college, and he paid the delivery guy extra to unload all his food into his kitchen. So really, what was the point?

Take-out Turkey Day by captaintinymite (augopher) | 3071w | Teen

Graduate Student Stiles Stilinski is  alone as he studies in New York- well, aside from his only friend in the City. Derek lives in the same apartment building, and circumstances mean they will both be spending Thanksgiving alone. When Derek suggests they spend it together, Stiles jumps on the idea.

The only problem? Neither one of them can cook.

a fable of some sort by thatworldinverted / @thatworldinverted | 5706w | Explicit

Stiles isn’t stupid. He knows something’s wrong with him, something rotten at the core like an apple in a fairytale.

He just doesn’t care. Not as long as he has Derek, as long as he can look up from the knife and the steel table and meet wolf-bright eyes and red-tipped claws.

And I Promise You Kid, I'll Give So Much More Than I Get by nerdyderekhale | 4855 | General

Stiles and Derek have been roommates for years, friends for longer. When Derek decides to bring Christmas spirit to Stiles for a change, unintentional wooing leads to Christmas confessions.

A Modern-Day Christmas Carol by Peasantaries | 2876 | Teen

Derek Hale is an adult: he doesn’t drink beverages with the title ‘Christmas Cookie Latte.’ 

Catahoula by zjofierose | 6761 | Teen

A late flight, an ESL Uber driver, and a simple mistake are all it takes for Stiles to have his most… memorable… Christmas yet. 

New Traditions by baneofawolf (InTheArmsofaThief) | 4576 | General

Stiles fiddled with his phone, absently closing and reopening the same app over and over. He’d been thinking about this day for months. Well, for years, if he was being honest with himself, but the actual plan for this actual day had only started forming a few months ago. He’d been thinking about this ever since he found out where Derek was. 

No Objections For Stiles by kaistrex | 2168 | General

While fighting a witch on Christmas Eve, Derek and Stiles end up stuck in a snow globe. Deaton says it should take a few days to wear off, but perhaps there’s another solution… 

all I want for Christmas (is you) by BansheeLydia | 647 | Teen

Stiles just wants to get home in time for Christmas.

Lover's Eyes by yodasyoyo / @yodas-yo-yo | 3792 | Teen

Derek has a complicated relationship with Christmas at the best of times, Stiles may be the one person who can make it better. or Five Christmas Days over the years told from Derek’s POV

[epitaph-of-twilight]

Once upon a dream [Outlaw Queen OS]

Sleepless nights and tiring days is all Regina known since her daughter was born. An upgrade from morning sickness, feeling like an oven and craving things she would have never eat in a million years. Motherhood had been such a fulfilling thing in her life ever since Henry first came into it and now, with her newborn daughter Regina’s purpose grew even wider, just like her capacity of love grew even bigger. Little Kiki (Lark, the girl’s name is Lark but Regina had taken a liking on calling her Kiki and little birdie) was a dream, a perfect little being mixed between her and Robin. Blonde hair, fair skin and probably blue eyes just like her father. She was all Regina ever dreamed off and so much more.

Regina had found a rhythm with little Kiki, though nighttime was the most difficult part of all. Putting the girl to sleep was always a task but Regina had discovered that tiny tyke had a thing for music, so every night Regina sang her to sleep. After all, music is the greatest way to express one’s feelings and if it helps the little girl to find Mr. Sandman and make friends with him until falling asleep, well that was a big bonus.

“When you wish upon a star, makes no difference who you are

Anything your heart desires will come to you

If your heart is in your dreams, nothing else is too extreme

When you wish upon a star as dreamers do

(Fate is kind, she brings to those who love

The sweet fulfillment of their secret longing)

Like a boat out of the blue, fate steps in and sees you through

When you wish upon a star, your dreams come true.”

Growing up, that was her favorite song. She remembers how her father used to sit around the grand piano in their living room and sing to her. It was one of the greatest memories of all. Regina had tried it with Henry, but the boy was more interested in super heroes instead of fairy tales. There was a time where he did take an interest in it, but one look at Hulk and Wolverine, the boy’s attention shifted completely. Regina does hope Kiki likes it.

Once the girl was fast asleep, Regina released a short sigh, still gently rocking in her rocking chair. Regina waited for a very long time before finally deciding to put the girl on her crib. When the girl was settled down, Regina’s eyes lingered on the sleeping girl. “I love you.” Was the first thing she muttered, her heart swelling. It was amazing how much love she could feel, how much love that grew more every day, for such a tiny little being. “I hope you always know that. I hope you know you can always count on me and your father for everything. Your happiness is all that matters to us.” The brunette grinned before lowering to kiss the girl’s forehead. She didn’t feel like moving, didn’t want to miss a single second of her perfect little angel dreaming her tiredness away. If she was a good artist like Robin she would have gotten her things and painted a portrait to forever immortalized this perfect little girl. Her memory will have to do.

“I’m sure your love is felt.” Regina tensed before standing straight. The brunette gave a ninety degree turned to the door where Robin stood arms crossed, leaning against the door frame.

“How long have you been standing there?” She questioned walking towards the door. Regina placed a kiss on his cheek and grin a tad nervously.

“Well, I heard you singing.” He replied back, pushing a hair strand behind her ear. “I’ll never get tired of listening to you singing.”

Her face felt warm and her cheeks were most likely a different shade of crimson. Not a lot of people have heard her singing. Usually, she just sings to her kids but a while back Robin had asked her to sing something and she actually oblige and ever since he had been asking her to sing once more and every time Regina said no. Don’t get her wrong, she likes to sing but at the same time it is embarrassing for her. Her voice isn’t particularly the best even though Robin just loves to argue the contrary. Still, it was endearing to see him so hooked on her voice, it was almost like a siren call to him.

Regina wrapped an arms around his waist while his went around her shoulders. For a long moment they just watched their daughter sleep. So peaceful, so angelic that made Regina’s heart ache a little. Pretty soon she’ll grow up and moment like this are going to be scarce. Bittersweetness, that was the feeling coursing through her veins in that very moment and Regina took a very deep, sharp breath to prevent herself from crying.

Oh God her hormones are still going crazy.

Robin must have known how she was feeling. His arm around her tighten and he placed a kiss on her temple. “She has a beautiful mother you know.” He said and Regina was left confused for a moment, her eyes glazing over the crib and onto his handsome face. His beard has grown a bit too much but that didn’t hide the kindness in his face. His eyes still shone brightly even in he dimmed room, his smile still made her heart skip a beat or two and those deep dimples were still there. She really opens Kiki get those two. “She’ll grow up to be an outstanding human being, just like Henry. You did a good job with him, you’ll be brilliant with Kiki as well.” There were times that she had her doubts about being a mother. After all, her mother wasn’t a very good role model. Regina always thought it was normal, they way she was treated as a child by Cora, but looking at other mother’s from all the kids in school and she knew that her normal was wrong. With time Regina had come to resent her mother but in a pivotal hour of her life, she had let go of that, the moment Henry was born she knew that parents will do crazy thing in order to secure a good future for their kids and even though Cora did everything wrong, Regina had forgiven her though she made a vow to never become like her mother.

Regina is proud to admit that she had kept that promise to herself.

“Mr. Locksley you are full of shit.” But she smiled, the words filled with a teasing energy that made the man grin back.

“Only being truthful.” He shot back, grin turning into a smirk and Regina felt a heat bloom in the pit of her stomach. Oh that mouth, the way it quirk easily from joking to teasing and… No, no time to think about the other uses his mouth has because that was how she ended up pregnant in the first place.

“Don’t you have things to do like…” She leaned to his neck, smelling it. “Like taking a shower? You reek.” Robin wanted to laugh, she could see in his eyes but the moment he did there was a possibility that Kiki might wake up so he just pulled her out of the room, pressing her back to the wall in the hallway before kissing her with fierceness.

“Only if you take a shower with me.” Robin’s mouth found the space where her neck met shoulder and sucked at olive skin there. Regina’s eyes fluttered close, enjoying the sweet sensation of his mouth on her skin and the previous thought about his mouth came back with full force and shit… She was going to agree to a shower without even thinking about it.

“Okay…” It was only a whisper but he took her consent and began undressing her right there. Henry wasn’t home, it was his weekend his father, Daniel and she was glad because it that wasn’t the case this wouldn’t be happening. His mouth kissed every new uncovered patch of skin. It left a pathom like kiss whenever he move to a new place, even his hand left traces of electricity in its wake. Being with Robin always felt like turning into a livewire. All her senses picked up, and an unnatural heat began simmering below the surface of her being. Sometimes she is afraid of instant combustion (yes stupid) but can you blame her? He had an effect no other man ever had on her. Maybe it was because he actually took the time to discover her body, like and dislikes. He connected every birthmark, every pulse point to maximize her pleasure.

It was totally unfair but she was greedy and allowed him to just let lose.

Once he reached the waistband of her sweatpants (She hates them, really does but she spent her entire day at home and she needs to be comfortable.) Robin looked up with a tiny smirk. “You don’t mind if we take a little bit more time before hitting the shower.” It wasn’t a question she knew this much. His eyes turned darker with hunger as his hand finally began pulling down her sweatpants with her cotton panties. The heat that was there but not really there skyrocketed through her entire body and Regina found herself only nodding. With a triumphant smirk, Robin’s mouth was pressed to her navel, down, down until reaching just above her clit. He pressed a kiss there. He lifted one of her legs over his shoulder and began running his tongue over her sensitive skin of her thighs. Regina bite her lower lip, head dropping back against the wall. He planned on teasing her, he always did and most of the time it irked her but today she finds the teasing strangely relaxing. Regina placed a hand on top of his head, flexing her fingers against his hair every time he got close to her core but went elsewhere…

Maybe the teasing still irks her after all…

“Robin…” She whispered in a tone of warning, her fingers tugged at his hair a bit roughly that only made him laugh. The vibration of his laugh against her skin making a soft mewl leave her lips.

“Ever heard patience is a virtue?” He looked at her over hooded eyes and…

Fuck…

“I need you to disrespect my virtue, like right now.” Robin chuckled at that and shit if his mouth didn’t get where it needed to be she’ll get really pissed and oh…

Robin sucked on her clit and her head was, once more, thrown back with a soft thud and a moan.

Much better.

One of Robin’s arms wrapped around her thigh, pressing her tight against the wall while his other rose, fingers playing with her entrance. For a while all that was heard down the hall was her soft moans (after all she couldn’t be more vocal, Kiki was sleeping and the door to her room was opened and they were right across from it) and the soft sounds coming from Robin. It heighten her more, his sounds, he got pleasure from pleasuring her and it always did the trick. Made knots tighten in her stomach, warm spread and the rising tide become more powerful. It wouldn’t be long now, not with the way his mouth is expertly moving, and sucking and how he allowed two finger slide right in because she was super wet and in need of more stimulation which he already knew probably thanks to her hand yanking at his hair. Toes curled as the bristles of his beard caressed her thighs and his finger play become more acute. His hitting the right spot and it has her moaning to the point where her hand splayed over her mouth to muffle the sounds that are coming from her wanton and needy and she needs to come. It is there, rising above everything in a white wave of pleasure. But she needed a final push, something to her right over the edge.

“Touch yourself.” Robin takes a split second to uttered those words before dropping his mouth again to her core and she didn’t know if it was the commanding tone of his voice, or the new angle he adjusted but she was lowering her hand over her mouth, teeth sinking onto her lips to stop her from moaning too loudly and her hands was on her breast. First one, a tugged of her nipple —a hard one at that — and then the other until there was a rhythm — an unconscious one — and boy that worked. She needed that to the point that a sharp moan left her lips and her orgasm washed over. Her eyes closed, as her hands stilled but Robin kept on, allowing her to ride her orgasm to the fullest. The tension on her body disappeared and she was left boneless against the wall, hands holding to Robin while he placed her leg down. The man kissed his way to her body, until reaching her mouth where she tasted herself. Robin tugged at her lower lip, before pulling back with a smirk. “Now about that shower…”

And yes a shower she can definitely take a shower and continue this. Regina was about to say just that when crying came from the other room. The brunette laughed a little, dropping her forehead on Robin’s shoulder shaking from the laughter. Regina pull back with an apologetic smile. “Rain check?” She said and he nodded kissing her forehead.

“You go and take a shower and head to bed. I’ll take care of Kiki.”

She could kiss him.

“You sure?” She asked even though she already knew the answer to that.

“Yes, go. I’ll be right with you when I’m done.”

This time she did kiss him and grinned. “I love you.”

“And I you. Now go…” He crouched, picked up her clothes and passed them to her. When Regina turned to walk towards the bedroom, Robin spanked her softly to which she turned with a raised brow but he laughed and ushered her to the bedroom before he walked to Kiki’s room to take care of his little birdie.

[Feel free to review on FF ❤️]