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random-imagines-blog · 3 years

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Shame {Harry Potter x Reader One Shot}

Requested by: Anonymous Wordcount: 2328 Summary: After being tortured at Malfoy Manor, you find a little peace and quiet with Harry. Warnings: A bit of Bellatrix torture, a Mean Girls reference.

You refused to cry in front of your cousin Bellatrix, no matter how much she scared you. And she was absolutely terrifying. Girl to girl, she had said, as she pulled your friends away from you. She had you on the floor in seconds, writhing and screaming in pain but you still refused to cry. The only tears that you let go were from relief when the crucio spell had been pulled from you, and she tried to get information. Her wand threateningly brushed against your face, and you could see her lip twitching, just wanting to cast more cruel spells. Being family meant that she was treating you rougher than she would anyone else - you were more of a disappointment. You were born with that on your shoulders just because your father was Sirius Black. Traitor to wizardkind because your father was said to have worked with Voldemort and sold out the Potters. Traitor to The Death Eaters because it was known among them that he didn’t. At least when he was proven innocent, you were able to make friends with Harry, Ron and Hermione, and attempt to aid them in bringing down The Dark Lord.

You didn’t answer any of her questions. You weren’t crying. You weren’t giving her any of the reactions that she wanted to badly out of you, which was just irritating her more. It got to the point where she brought out her favorite knife to use on you - which actually calmed you down. Even if she were to cut you, or stab you, it would still be better than the cruciatus curse.

But it still hurt. Bloody Hell, it hurt. You were screaming in pain as she tore through your flesh, having to stop and wipe viciously to get the blood away to see where she could put the next letter. You didn’t watch. You had your head turned to the other side so you wouldn’t have to see. But your mind was putting together the letters that she was making.

T R A I T O R

“Please - stop - please,” You said as she dug in for the O. Curves were very hard to make on skin with a knife. And she was really trying to make it perfect. You were screaming now. She was going in and in, making it deeper. You were sure at this point that it was written on your very bones. No amount of healing spells would be able to erase it completely. It was carved into your soul.

She finally left you, but you were too tired and in pain to move. Your arm was splayed out, the blood drying and starting to flake off, a puddle of it beneath you. You stared blankly at the ceiling ahead of you, watching the shadows move through the corners like dementors. You wished they were dementors. You’d give anything not to feel.

“Y/N, come on,” You felt someone shaking at your body. Thinking that it was Bellatrix, you hid back inside of yourself. You tried to isolate your mind from everything. You couldn’t take any more pain. You just couldn’t.

It took you a couple of minutes to realize that you were no longer on a cold, hard floor but you were laying on what was a soft bed. You opened your eyes, them feeling like they were swollen shut from the crying that you had done after Bellatrix had left, and through the tears and the dried eye gunk, you faintly saw light beige walls. You blinked slowly. This had to be a trick. Some kind of mind game. Lull you into a false sense of security.

Your name was said against and this time you rolled over to see who it was, expecting it to be one of the Deatheaters, or their sons. But it wasn’t. It was Harry, and he looked more frazzled than you had ever seen him. His hair was always a mess and it seemed like his glasses were always askew, but right now, he was just a mess. He looked like he had been crying, and hasn’t slept for days. But of course he wouldn’t have been able to sleep. You all had been taken by Death Eaters and tortured.

“Harry?” You asked, wanting to make absolute sure that it was him. Polyjuice Potions were a thing after all. “What was the name of Sirius’s dog form?”

“Snuffles,” He said, without the least trace of humor. So it really was Harry. You wiped at your eyes, feeling the dried on traces of eye gunk and tried to get them off. You sat up and looked at him, sitting over your bed, like he was holding some sort of vigil over you.

“You look like you haven’t slept in ages, Harry. Where are we? How did we get out of there?”

“I haven’t,” Harry admitted, taking off his glasses and rubbing at his own eyes, then put them back on. “We’re at Shell Cottage - Bill and Fleur’s place. It’s a long story but ... Dobby saved us. And Bellatrix killed him. We buried him already.”

“I’m so sorry,” You said, reaching for him and took his hand. “Come on, lay down with me, you look like you need this bed more than I do.”

Moving triggered a pain in your arm - you had almost forgotten about what Bellatrix had carved on you but the memories came flooding back. Traitor. Traitor. Traitor.

“Thanks,” Harry said. He had a second’s look of hesitation, like he wanted to protest, but he did look like he was going to fall over from exhaustion at any second. The bed was big enough for two, and he fit in nicely against you, putting you between himself and the wall. You rolled onto your side, your good side, your hurt arm falling over him. You were wearing sleeves, which made you wonder who dressed you. Oh, you sure hoped to God it was Fleur, and that none of the boys had seen what was written on you.

“How long have we been here?” You questioned, softly. The cottage was quiet, save for the faint noise of someone moving around in the kitchen. You could hear the waves outside. It was a very soothing sound, and it made your body relax. That combined with Harry next to you, laying on his back, his chest rising and falling with his breath. You felt somewhat safe for the first time in weeks. And you chose to enjoy it by reaching over with your painful arm, and removing the glasses from Harry’s face. He allowed you to without a fuss, and you folded them up and set them on the nightstand.

“Since yesterday,” Harry explained, and told the tale of the grand escape - including how he had been the one that had scooped you up after you passed out from Bellatrix’s torturing. You inched a little closer to him as he spoke, eyes wide as you listened to how he had covered your arm with one of Bill’s sweaters before anyone else could see.

“Why?” You asked, self consciously pulling the sleeve down over your hands. The sweater was one of Mrs. Weasley’s, you realized, as you caught a better look. A big B on the front. It was cozy, and warm, and it had a big hand in making you feel safe. “Why did you hide it from everybody?”

“Thought you’d want to tell the others about it on your own terms,” Harry said. “At least you’re able to hide it. Not like it’s in the middle of your forehead or anything.”

That almost made you smile. The closest that you had been to it in a while. You moved closer still, placing your head on his chest. You could hear his heartbeat through the fabric of his own clothes - another Weasley jumper, another B. It seemed they were all that Bill and Fleur had to spare that were warm enough for the foggy weather outside. You didn’t mind at all, and apparently Harry didn’t either. It smelt of laundry detergent. Clean soap.

“Thank you,” You hummed into his sweater. “Are you alright, Harry? I can’t imagine what they must have put you -”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Harry said, sharply. You were used to these tones coming from him, and hardly stirred from your position. In fact, you brought your hand onto his chest as well, to try to comfort him.

“Okay. All that matters is that we’re out now. And ... and we’re safe for a little while.”

“We’re never safe,” Harry groaned. Hesitantly, he put his arms around you, resting his hands on your sweater, keeping you close.

“I know you feel like you have the world on your shoulders, but we can’t take this for granted. This is the only chance for a breather that we have. Let’s just ... enjoy it for a couple of minutes.”

You held him even closer, and turned your head to kiss his chest through the sweater. He was your savior right now, and you were so very thankful. Your angel with messy black hair and bottle green eyes. You, like many other girls, had a crush on him during school, but you were lucky enough to actually get to know him, which made it grow. You just never said anything because of the stress that he was always under. He didn’t need to know. But this was your moment to breathe, the safest you two had been in a while.

“You got your scar because of me,” Harry said, quietly.

“Stop it,” You said, lightly smacking his chest. “Don’t you dare put that on yourself. I was a traitor to her long before I even met you, Harry. It’s Bellatrix’s fault, no one elses. Why do you do that to yourself?”

“Do what?”

“Take responsibility for everything. I know what I signed up for when I joined your cause, when I became your friend. I can take the burden for what had been to me, honey. You don’t need to do that. You already keep enough on your plate.”

He rubbed at his eyes. You thought you saw some tears there, but it could have been from exhaustion. And then his arms were around you, hugging you. You felt him kiss the top of your head.

“It’s just hard not to,” He admitted to you. And you could understand that. He felt like a lot of the things that went bad were his fault - and he probably blamed himself for Dobby as well.

“I know. But when all of this is over, and it will be over because good will always win, Harry, we’re all going to take the victory together, just as we take the hurt together. And you wouldn’t dare try to take that from us, would you?”

Harry chuckled, and you could feel his chest moving beneath your head. It was a nice sound, because as long as there was a bit of laughter still in the air, there was still hope in the world. There was a moment of silence, only gulls being heard from outside now, as you two held onto each other in there. You could almost believe that there was barely a world out there beyond the beach, and that’s just what your mind needed in order to let your body fully relax against Harry. Your fingers played at the collar of the sweater, feeing how it must have been an older one since it was a little stretched out.

“Are you going to stay with me?” Harry asked, breaking the moment.

“Of course,” You answered, thinking that it should have been obvious. “Haven’t I always?”

“I could never tell if it was because you were stubborn or if you felt obliged.”

“Definitely stubborn,” You said, chuckling. “I don’t do anything that I don’t want to do, Harry. That especially extends to trying to protect the people that I care about. And save the world. The bragging rights are going to be insane.”

That even made Harry laugh a little, his arms resting on you, squeezing you just a little bit. “Is that the only reason?”

You thought for a moment, and then decided - tomorrow wasn’t guaranteed. You could get grabbed by the Death Eaters again at any time. And there was the final battle that was upcoming, when you and your friends would have to kill Voldemort once and for all, once all the Horcruxes were destroyed. “Love is the main reason,” You told him, fingers clinging onto his shirt now. You were scared he was going to push you away. But he didn’t. He just held onto you a little tighter.

“That’s a good reason,” He said, and you relaxed against him. He must have been thinking of his parents, you thought. You had heard how his mother’s love had protected him from the Killing Curse in the first place.

“Best reason for anything,” You agreed. “Hey Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“After we save the world and go through all of the celebration parties and stuff - do you maybe want to have dinner with me or something? I think the Leaky Cauldron will probably remain standing, even after this war is long over.”

Harry chuckled at that, a soft and breathy sound, just enough to not disturb the air too much. “Yeah, sounds grool-”

You felt him pause at that. You licked your lips and tried to hold in your laugh, knowing that the shaking would give you away.

“I just tried to say great and cool at the same time,” He groaned.

“Hey, don’t worry about it. I think it sounded pretty ... grool.”

#Harry Potter #Harry Potter x reader #Harry Potter oneshot #request #oneshot #one shot #x reader #harryp

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valdomarx · 3 years

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Saving Grace

When the test flight of a new experimental spacecraft goes wrong, Sheppard ends up lost in hyperspace. Injured and alone, his subconscious mind summons up a familiar face to keep him company.

Stargate: Atlantis, Sheppard/McKay. 6k words, rated T.

Contains Shep whump, happy ending, and gratuitous descriptions of astronomical phenomena.

Sheppard comes to with a lancing headache and vise around his chest. An alarm is blaring. He takes in his environment: he’s in an unfamiliar cockpit. Whatever he’s flying, the inertial dampeners have cut out and he’s pulling several Gs, the forces pushing him against his seat and making his head swim.

He blinks woozy eyes and stares out the window. Streaks of color whip past him in a confusing and rapid swirl. A strange thrum vibrates the ship. This doesn’t look like space.

Shit. That’s because he’s not in space. He’s in hyperspace.

This is not good.

“It’ll be a cakewalk!” McKay gestures animatedly. “A quick trip across the solar system to warm our new baby up, then kick in the hyperdrive. It’ll catapult you to the Triian system, and you can turn around and gate back. Easy.”

“Catapult?” Sheppard raises an eyebrow. “I don’t love the sound of that.”

But McKay isn’t listening. He and Zelenka are deep in conversation about hyperspace and its effects on the particle/wave duality of light. The rapidly rising volume of their voices suggests this is an argument they’ve had before.

They’re both fussing over the control panel for their latest pride and joy, a cobbled-together prototype spacecraft which is a hybrid between a puddle jumper and a X-302 fighter. It’s taken them months to build the A-305, based off the miniature hyperdrive McKay designed while he was temporarily almost-ascended. They’ve poked and tweaked and run every simulation they can think of, but sooner or later the ship will need to be taken on a real test flight.

Just as well Atlantis has the galaxy’s best fighter pilot for a military commander, Wier had said with a smile. She’d wished him luck on the A-305’s maiden voyage and told him to come home safe.

Stay safe. Stay alive.

Right.

Through the fog in his head, Sheppard focuses on his first problem. The spinning of the ship is making it impossible to think, and he needs to be clear headed to find his way out of this. He needs control of his ship.

With a wince he connects to the ship’s neural interface. It isn’t as seamless as operating a puddle jumper, but the principle is the same. McKay and Zelenka had done their best to replicate the Ancient interface, but their best approximation was still a long way off. Using it adds to the sharp spike of pain in his skull, but he needs to know what he’s dealing with.

The ship’s interface blinks into existence behind his eyes. The sensors scream out incomprehensible reams of data. He silences them. The alarm is still blaring. Silence that as well.

Now. Here. Positioning and guidance systems. This data is a jumbled mess too, and most of the navigation functions are offline. But thrusters are up. That’s good. He can at least stop this spin.

In the corner of his mind, the power system whines needily. It’s one of a dozen systems competing for his attention and it will have to wait. He pushes it aside.

Thrusters. Fire them, hard. Counteract the spin.

The ship jerks and he is slammed into the side of his seat. It pushes the air from his lungs, but gradually the colors outside the window slow their nausea-inducing swirl.

The world rights itself. The G forces release their iron-tight grip on his chest. The ship is stationary.

Now, at least, he can think and he can breathe. He can call for a rescue.

He taps his radio and calls out to Atlantis. No reply. He tries the ship’s communication system. No luck there either. The radio plays back nothing but static.

Ok. Communications are down. He’ll need to fix that, but first he needs to find out where he is. He opens the hyperspace location system and searches for a beacon.

Silence stares back at him.

He searches further, pushing the sensors to their maximum. There must be a signal he can lock onto somewhere.

He finds nothing. Not even empty space. Nothing but the strange, pulsating colors of the uncharted depths of hyperspace.

Damn it. He’s lost.

“I’m telling you,” McKay is, once again, waving his hands around with great enthusiasm, “you have no idea how hyperspace works. It’s not like navigating through normal space.”

Sheppard is sat in the commissary on the Daedalus, overhearing Ronon wind up McKay and trying not to show his amusement.

“I thought it was like an ocean current?” Ronon asks innocently.

“What? No! It’s nothing like that.” McKay gestures with a fork. “It’s more like… You know when you carry something heavy through the forest?”

“Like a body?”

“God, how does your mind work? But right, sure, you’re dragging the lifeless corpse of your defeated enemy through the forest. And as you go, you’re crushing bushes and leaves beneath your feet, right? You’re making a trail.”

“I don’t leave tracks.”

“Oh, sure, Mr I’m-a-big-tough-guy-yet-somehow-I-can-move-silently-through-dense-foliage.” McKay scowls and Sheppard hides a smile behind a forkful of mashed potatoes. “The point is, when a ship moves through hyperspace it leaves behind a trail. When another ship follows the first, it reinforces the trail. Over time, that builds up a network of paths through hyperspace.”

“And that’s how we know which direction to go in right now?” Ronan looks out the window, where the hyperspace currents wrap around the ship.

“Exactly. Over time, we’ve laid out beacons along these paths. They allow us to jump from one part of the galaxy to another, but only along the predetermined routes. If we were to head away from the path, eventually we’d be too far away from the beacons to orient ourselves. We’d end up lost forever in hyperspace.” He shudders, and Sheppard can see the millions of horrible scenarios playing through his head.

“Huh.” Ronon puts his feet up on the table. “If I get lost in the forest, I orient myself by the sun.”

“Unfortunately for your rustic wisdom, that’s not very helpful when you’re outside the normal planes of space and time.”

Ronon gets a glint in his eye and goes in for the kill. “But aren’t there lots of stars out there? And the sun on Atlantis rises in the east, right? So you could pick a star, and head toward it, and that way would be east.”

McKay turns a worrying shade of purple. He gapes. “That is just. On so many levels, that is so unbelievably wrong, I can’t even fathom how you would -” He takes a huge gulp of air. “THAT IS NOT HOW ANY OF THIS WORKS.”

Sheppard does not panic. He reminds himself that the first thing to do when you’re lost is to retrace your steps. How did he end up here?

He remembers prepping the A-305 for the test flight. He remembers heading away from Atlantis and deeper into the solar system. He remembers firing up the hyperspace drive.

He remembers the drive spinning up. He remembers a whirring noise. He remembers the pop as the ship made the hyperspace jump.

And then… There had been a spark. A crackle of electricity, here in the cockpit. A bolt of lightning had shot out from one of the rear hatches and struck the control panel.

There had been a terrible screeching sound, and a series of bangs as various components fried out and died. Then a bang louder than the others that sent him reeling. That must have been the drive pod blowing.

He remembers the force of the explosion smacking his head on the console. Then only blackness.

Gingerly, he touches his forehead. His fingers come away wet with blood.

That explains the headache.

He needs to figure out where he is but the data coming from the sensors doesn’t make any sense. He opens the interface again and looks through data on the craft’s position, speed, structural integrity. Anything that could orient him in the nothingness.

The reams of data start to blur together. His eyes are drooping and it’s getting hard to focus. He forces himself to look at each number in turn, but he can’t make heads or tails of any of it. The chilling ache of helplessness starts to crawl up his spine.

“Why don’t you let me take a look at that?”

Sheppard whips his head round. Perched on the edge of the console, flicking through a tablet, is McKay.

He rubs his eyes, but McKay is still there. He didn’t think he was this far gone.

“You’re not really here,” he gasps. Maintaining some grip on what is real and what is not has never been more vital.

McKay tilts his head and smirks, and it’s such a familiar movement that it makes something in Sheppard’s chest loosen. “Of course I’m not here. I’m light-years away in Atlantis, worrying about you.”

“Then what-?”

“You’re lost. Your ship is damaged. You’re alone. And you have a pretty severe concussion.” McKay ticks off items on his fingers. “Your subconscious figured you could use some help. So it called me.”

Sheppard blinks. “You're imaginary?”

McKay shrugs. “I’m a creation of your mind. You knew you needed help, so you summoned up the one person you knew could get you out of this.”

“And that’s you, is it?”

McKay radiates smugness. “It’s ok, Sheppard. You can admit that I am not only the smartest person you know, but also the most inventive. And, frankly, the most handsome as well.” He flicks his hair back in an affected manner. It's awkward as hell.

Sheppard rubs his aching temples. “Lucky me."

He'd known McKay was going to be a pain in his ass since the day they met.

He'd spent three years in Antarctica. It was nice there. Quiet. No one to get in his business or hold him to any obligations.

And then he'd come to Atlantis, and everything had changed.

Now he has a team to protect and more responsibility than any person should have to deal with. Teyla and Ronon, Weir and Lorne, even Beckett, they have all become indelible fixtures in his life.

And then there's McKay. Brash, arrogant, and perhaps the only person in the expedition who has worse people skills than he does. McKay, whose endless chattering and whining has become the cosmic background radiation of his life. He's gotten so used to it that being without it feels like he's missing a part of himself.

“What we need is a reference point to lock onto.” McKay is pacing, as much as is possible, around the tiny cockpit. He’s making Sheppard nervous.

“There’s nothing out there. I've tried to pick up a beacon signal, but it’s no use this far from the hyperspace lanes. The more time passes, the further I drift.”

“Ah ah ah.” McKay snaps his fingers. “So we can’t find a beacon. But maybe we can find something else to use as a marker. We just need a point in normal space to orient ourselves around.”

“But we’re cut off from normal space.”

McKay shakes his head. “Not completely. Hyperspace is orthogonal to normal space, not entirely separate from it.”

Sheppard has only the loosest idea what that means.

“So you should be able to…” McKay starts futzing around with his tablet again. He can’t actually be doing anything, because he isn’t real and neither is the tablet, but his mind apparently can’t conceive of McKay without having him poking at some piece of electronic equipment. “Try the radar.”

“The radar? But radio waves don’t carry through hyperspace.”

McKay beams. “They do if the source is strong enough.”

“But that’s -”

“Are you seriously arguing with yourself right now? You know I’m right! On some subconscious level, you clearly realize that this makes sense. So do you want to bicker, or do you want to get out of here?”

“Fine! Jeez. I’ll try the radar, but it’s not going to work.”

McKay raises an eyebrow, like he’s about to say wanna bet? Sheppard clamps the headphones over his ears.

Using the neural interface, the radar signal comes through as auditory information. He hears the rumbling of the radiation coming from his spacecraft, and the pings of neutrinos twisting past at super high velocities. So far so unhelpful.

And then… there’s something… And then it’s gone again. Sheppard strains his ears, reaching out with his mind to extend the range of the radar. There’s nothing, only horrible blankness. And then - there it is again.

A faint, very low pulse. Beating like a heart, every second. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Steady. Consistent. A fixed point.

Sheppard lets out a breath. He’s found a pulsar.

He’d barely been paying attention when McKay had brought it up. He’d been more interested in flicking through the dog-eared copy of Golfer’s Digest he’d borrowed from Lorne.

“See! Right here! Pulsar J0056-87.” McKay gestures him over, vibrating with excitement.

Sheppard rolls his eyes but stands all the same. McKay’s been on at him to join him for a night of stargazing since he found an Ancient telescope stashed away in a lab somewhere. Apparently, even with their elaborate technology, there were still some Ancients who enjoyed looking at the stars with glass lenses for some reason. Bunch of damn hipsters.

But the night was warm and clear, and for once there was no imminent threat of invasion. McKay had dragged him along to one of the distant piers and set up while Sheppard had busied himself with a beer and a magazine.

“Look!” He lets McKay manhandle him into position in front of the telescope eyepiece. “See that?”

He peers through the glass and sees a blurry outline of something like a star. But it flashes, on and off, on and off, like a strobe light.

“It’s the collapsed core of a massive star,” McKay says, all expressive gestures, “and it's spinning so fast it's emitting beams of electromagnetic radiation from its poles as it turns, like a lighthouse. That’s why it seems to flash, and that means it can be used like a yardstick for the galaxy. It’s the only one we’ve found in Pegasus.”

Sheppard grunts, says, “Thrilling,” and goes back to his beer.

“We’re going to get you out of here, Sheppard.” McKay sounds confident, but McKay always sounds confident. Sheppard has learned to temper his expectations.

“Ok. I've located the pulsar. Can we use its location to extrapolate the coordinates for Atlantis?”

McKay pulls a face. “That would require triangulation - we’d need at least three fixed points for that. We’ve only got one point to work from.”

“So how does that help? We’re still lost.” A churning mixture of anger and anxiety rolls in his chest.

“You have to head toward the pulsar.” McKay nods decisively.

“Oh, what a great idea, I’m so glad I have you here for inspiration. I’m lost in hyperspace, so let’s go even further out. Let’s go deeper into the unknown. Let’s throw all of my eggs into this one strobing basket. Brilliant plan, McKay!”

“And what’s the alternative? Sit here and wait to die?”

“Protocol states that I should stay where I am. Preserve my position. Give a rescue team the best chance to find me.”

“And that’s all well and good in normal space, but we’re not in normal space, are we? There’s no maps here. There’s no way for a ship to track us. They can’t rescue you if they can’t find you.” Sheppard glares at him. McKay pouts back. “Since when have you given a shit about protocol anyway?”

Sheppard grimaces and checks the thrusters. He can at least see how much fuel he’s got left.

He reaches into the interface with his mind.

FUEL DEPLETED, a warning flashes. REFUEL IMMEDIATELY.

“Ahh.” McKay looks apologetic. “I was worried about that. I guess when the hyperdrive blew it took the fuel containment with it.”

Sheppard stares out at the rippling nothingness.

Great.

Sheppard has faced death many times.

There was a time when he would have been fine with this. Going out in the line of duty, he figured that was more or less inevitable given the choices he makes.

But things are different now. There are people counting on him. There are people who care about him.

There are people he cares about too. He doesn't know exactly when they became so important to him. But how does know he doesn't want to die without seeing them again.

He considers his options. He doesn’t have many.

“If I follow the pulsar, I’ll drop out of hyperspace halfway across the galaxy.”

McKay looks at him like he’s stupid. “Yes. That’s rather the point.”

“But the team will be mounting a rescue. I need to stay near to where they left me.”

“That won’t work!” McKay waves his arms in the air. “Even if they find a way to enter hyperspace at exactly the same point you did, and even if they could recreate the accident that sent you here, we’ve still drifted too far to be in communications range. They’ll never find us.”

“What’s your suggestion then? Throw myself at the nearest shiny thing and hope it magically leads me home?”

McKay stops his pacing and kneels in front of Sheppard. He takes his hand. It’s weirdly warm.

“What do you think I’m doing right now? Back on Atlantis?”

Sheppard shifts in his seat and takes his hand back. “I’m sure you’re trying to find me.”

“Ya think?” McKay goes quiet, and that’s so unexpected it rattles Sheppard more than the threat of imminent death.

“This is my fault,” McKay says, standing and turning away. “The jumper hyperdrive was my creation. It’s my fault it failed, and it’s my fault you’re lost.”

“I don’t believe that.” Sheppard waves a dismissive hand. “I’m a test pilot. It’s literally my job to fly experimental vehicles. There’s always a risk. I know that, and if you’re part of me then you know that too.”

McKay turns to give him a sad half-smile. “Yeah. I know you think that. But you also know me - the real me - well enough to know that I’m never going to forgive myself if we lose you.”

That hits a little too close to home. He shoves down the swell of emotion closing up his throat and tries for flippant. “So what? I don’t want you to feel bad, and I don’t want to die here. But pointing my ship to a point in space and hoping you’ll know to find me there? How’s that supposed to work?”

“I know how you think, Sheppard. I know how hyperspace works. I know that your ship has been damaged and that you’re lost. I also know you’ll be able to locate the pulsar. And I know you’ll head toward it. I’ll be waiting for you there.”

“It was months ago that you told me about that pulsar. And I was barely even listening to you at the time! How do you know you’ll remember?”

McKay fixes him with a steady gaze. “I’ll remember.”

Here’s what really happened: McKay invites him to the pier for stargazing. The night is so clear that the stars of Pegasus blanket the sky. The air smells of salt from the sea and the crackling of ozone from the shield generators.

Sheppard pretends to flick through his magazine as he watches McKay set up the telescope. He watches the way his hands dance over components. He listens to him mumbling to himself about which piece goes where.

And then the telescope is ready, and McKay begins searching the sky. Sheppard watches his face as he scrunches up his eyes to focus on the eyepiece. He pretends to drink his beer and he observes.

He’s beautiful like this, Sheppard thinks. Give McKay a puzzle, or a mystery, or an unknown, and he simply expands his mind to meet it. Once he’s solved the problem, then he’ll snap back into his defensive egotistical genius mode. But in the moment just before that - when he sees the solution in front of him, when a new piece of understanding begins to take shape - then McKay glows.

“Ohh,” McKay breathes, face still hovering over the telescope. “Would you look at that. A pulsar, right here in Pegasus.”

Sheppard takes a swig of beer and pretends not to be interested.

It’s one of his favorite memories of Atlantis.

“Even if I wanted to follow your crazy plan,” Sheppard begins.

“Your crazy plan, technically,” McKay interrupts. He gestures to himself. “Figment of your imagination, remember?”

“Even if I wanted to follow this crazy plan, then. Thrusters are out because I used the last of the fuel to stop the spin. The hyperdrive is fried. How am I supposed to maneuver anywhere?”

McKay raises an eyebrow and taps meaningfully on the oxygen gauge. “I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

“The life support? Oh yes, that’s brilliant. Let’s vent the last of my oxygen into space. I always wanted to try death by hypoxia.”

“Venting gases from the ship will create thrust,” McKay says, and he truly must be a fantasy because the real McKay never speaks with such patience. “We don’t need much. Just enough to overcome inertia and start us moving in the right direction. No friction in hyperspace.”

“Even if I vented half the oxygen and got moving, I’d still need to jump out of hyperspace.”

“Oh no no no no no no,” McKay wags his finger, and that’s more familiar. “With the drive in the state it’s in, we will not be jumping out of hyperspace. We will be falling out of hyperspace, like a stone through a pond.”

“That doesn’t sound great.”

“It’s not! But it’s your only option, so hop to.”

Sheppard scowls. “How am I supposed to fix the hyperdrive? You’ve been working on it for months, and you barely got it functioning.”

McKay gives him a look. “You’ve spent years looking over my shoulder. You know how to bypass secondary systems and reroute power to the drive.”

“I do?”

“You do.”

Sheppard finds a spanner tucked under his chair. He grasps it and turns to face the panels full of incomprehensible wiring behind them.

Time to get to work.

McKay and Zelenka are bickering again.

“Your simulations are not only wrong, but reckless as well! You can’t patch primary power cables like that. Unless, of course, you actually intend to blow the prototype up.”

McKay snorts. “Don’t be so timid, Zelenka! The power conduits don’t need to carry that much power long-term. We’re talking a short-term bypass here, not a permanent solution.”

Sheppard focuses on flying the jumper and ignores the voices coming from behind him. He considers closing the bulkhead between the front and rear compartments, but then he’d only have to listen to McKay ranting later.

“A short-term solution which could explode at any moment isn’t viable!”

“Please, it’ll be fine. We only need to avoid patching into the main power distribution node. The hardware for primary and secondary power systems aren’t so different. They’re interchangeable if you’re careful enough.”

“Your desire for glory is outweighing your common sense, McKay.”

“And your petty jealousy is unappealing, Zelenka!”

Sheppard puts on his headphones and tunes out the arguing with the mellow sound of Johnny Cash.

“That’s good.” McKay puts a hand on his shoulder. It feels real. It feels nice. “That should channel all of the remaining power to the hyperdrive, give it enough juice for one last wheeze.”

Sheppard stares at the mass of cabling. He’s been going by instinct: cut here, patch there. He should have learned more about how the puddle jumpers work, and about hyperdrives. But he’s gotten lazy. He’s gotten used to having McKay around for things like this.

“It’ll be fine.” McKay is not known for his generosity regarding the work of others, so Sheppard can only assume he’s done the wiring correctly.

But something is bothering him. “Even if we manage to drop out of hyperspace -”

“When,” McKay corrects, “not if.”

“- And even if you are, somehow, miraculously aware of where I’m heading -”

“I am.”

“How are you going to get there? That pulsar is in the middle of nowhere.”

“Don’t worry.” McKay smiles blithely. “There’s a stargate nearby.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because you know, Sheppard. You’ve seen it.”

It feels like decades ago. It was when they had first arrived in Atlantis and they’d been desperately searching for ZPMs. He sits in the control chair and brings up a map of the galaxy in the vain hope it will show the location of a power source.

The room darkens and lights blink on overhead. From where he sits, he can see the Pegasus galaxy from end to end: stars and black holes, planets and comets, all represented in delicate, dancing lights. He searches for power sources and finds nothing.

But there, in a far corner of one of the galaxy’s spiral arms, is a single light flashing on and off, on and off. He notices it out of the corner of his eye, a flashing oddity. Interesting, but not helpful in their current search.

He puts it out of his mind. But as he does so, he notes a label next to the flashing light. The third planet orbiting that flashing star has a stargate.

“You’ve got quite the memory, Sheppard.” McKay is looking at him… oddly. Softly. It’s unnerving.

“Could have been mensa,” he says, unraveling the tension with a smirk.

Predictably, that sends McKay into a rant. “Oh, you just love to bring that up, huh, your great big IQ to go with your great big guns, and you know what else is sure to be huge -”

The power system chooses that moment to scream back to life with a warning klaxon.

WARNING, it says, POWER LEVELS FALLING. LIFE SUPPORT FAILURE IMMINENT.

Right. Time's up.

“If we’re going to do this, we need to do it now,” McKay says. He chews at his lip nervously.

Watching him, a strange serenity washes over Sheppard. Live or die, right or wrong, he is out of options. Time to make a choice.

He locates the pulsar. He prepares to vent the life support. He opens a seal on the opposite side of the ship, and he releases the airlock safety control.

There’s an explosive rush of gas from the vents, and he's slammed into his seat. He punches the airlock shut switch as quickly as he can, hoping he didn't waste too much air.

“Hey!” McKay whoops. “It’s working!”

The ship is moving, sailing through hyperspace and toward the pulsar. He sighs, and takes a moment. At least now he has a destination. It’s better than floating lost.

Then he looks down at his oxygen supply.

OXYGEN LEVELS AT 10% AND FALLING, the system says. DANGER OF PILOT HYPOXIA.

Huh. He should be worried about that, but it seems so far away. It can’t be that important.

There's a rushing in his ears that sounds the roar of the ocean.

He leans back with a smile.

It's the sound of home.

“Sheppard. Sheppard!”

He comes to again with McKay shaking him.

“Don’t you dare pass out on me now.”

“‘M tired.”

“I know. That’s the oxygen deprivation. But you need to hold on a little bit longer. You need to activate the hyperdrive once we’re close enough to the pulsar.”

“He’s not…” His words are slurring. It’s hard to move his tongue. “They’re not going to find me.”

“Yes they are,” McKay’s voice has an edge to it he hasn’t heard before. “Teyla is going to be calling up every contact she’s ever made. She’ll find someone on the nearest planet, and she’ll get us safe passage. And if she runs into any problems, Ronon is going to intimidate the hell out of the entire system until they help. Beckett is on board a rescue jumper right now preparing his medical kit, ready to treat you as soon as they find you. Wier is going to approve the mission in a heartbeat, even though it sounds insane, because she’d sacrifice all of the jumpers and half the city to save you.”

Sheppard blinks. McKay’s face swims before him.

“And I… Sheppard, you already know this, but I am going to move space and time itself to find you. I’m not going to take no for an answer, and I’ll bend the damn laws of physics themselves if I have to. When you drop out of hyperspace, I’ll be waiting there for you.”

McKay’s voice is further and further away. It sounds nice, what he’s saying, but it’s like it’s carrying on the wind across a great crevasse.

“You’ve saved us all so many times, Sheppard. For once, let us save you.”

He wants to believe that. He wants his team to rescue him. He doesn’t want to die here, alone.

But he isn't thinking straight. This whole plan hinges on McKay remembering a conversation from months ago. It’s madness.

“McKay… Rodney… He doesn’t know,” Sheppard croaks. He’s too tired to feel ashamed of how weak he sounds. “He doesn’t know that I listened to him that night. He doesn’t know that I always listen to him. He doesn’t know that..." he breaks off. "I never told him.”

McKay takes his face in his hands and kisses him. It’s so unexpected that it shocks him awake again, enough to register McKay's lips against his own and his fingers tangling in his hair. It’s like a jolt of lightning, like being raised from the dead.

“I know, John,” McKay says, pulling back and looking him dead in the eye. “I’ve always known.”

He points down at the hyperspace activation button.

“Now come home.”

Sheppard summons the last of his strength to raise his arm. It’s like wading through concrete. One last task, he thinks, and then I can rest.

He presses the button.

There’s a ripping sound, a whirl of lights, and then there’s only blackness.

He wakes up to the familiar surroundings of the infirmary: the bustle of doctors moving around, the distant sound of the ocean.

And frowning down at his laptop, McKay, sitting hunched in a chair by his bed.

The breath Sheppard lets out feels like a great weight lifting from his chest.

"Hey," he says. His voice is raspy and everything hurts. "What happened?"

McKay scrambles to his feet. "Sheppard." His face is guilt-stricken. "Carson!" he calls. "He's awake."

Soon enough, the whole team is crammed into the infirmary.

"We had to search the entire pulsar system to find you," Elizabeth explains. "By the time we got to you, your ship had been without power and oxygen for several minutes. Carson worked very hard to get you breathing again on the trip home. You gave us quite the scare."

That would be why his lungs ached.

"It is good to see you awake, John." Teyla bows her head. "I hope you will join me for tea when you are feeling better."

Ronon snorts. "Or come down to the gym for a sparring session if you want a real challenge. I'll be waiting." He grins.

Elizabeth looks around and smiles. "We're all very glad to have you back." She glances at McKay, huddled quietly in the corner. "Even Rodney. He's been here since we brought you in." She gives him a tight nod and turns to leave, guiding Beckett, Teyla and Ronon with her.

Sheppard looks at McKay expectantly.

McKay pushes his laptop aside. He takes a deep breath and straightens himself up like he's heading into battle.

"I'm sorry, Sheppard." He's not quite meeting his eyes. "I sent you out in that ship, and I told you the drive was ready. It's my fault you were stranded. You must be angry, and I'll understand if you want me off the team."

Sheppard raises an eyebrow. "Did I just hear an actual apology? From you?" He breaks into a grin. "My head injury must be worse than I thought."

"Way to ruin the moment, you ass." McKay leans over to punch him in the shoulder, which hurts, but McKay is smiling now so it's worth it. "I'm trying to bare my soul here."

"Well put it away. I'm not angry, and I don't want you to go anywhere." He looks at McKay's fingers twitching anxiously on the bedspread. In a moment of wild abandon, he takes his hand in his own and gives it a squeeze. "I knew you'd find me."

"Oh. Uhh. Really?" McKay is staring down at their joined hands, but he doesn't let go. The tips of his ears go very pink. "That's very. Uhh. I'm touched by your. Uhh. Your faith in me."

The moment stretches, and Sheppard wonders if he's supposed to say something else. Then McKay fidgets, and the moment passes.

"How did you figure it all out, anyway? I saw the state of the A-305. Getting that wreck out of hyperspace can't have been easy."

Sheppard rests back against the pillow. He feels bathed in warm light. "I had some help," he mumbles as sleep begins to take him, "from a very good friend."

It's a week before Sheppard is well enough to be released from the infirmary. He's still a little shaky, but Beckett says he'll be fit for active duty soon enough.

He makes the most of his new-found freedom and tells McKay to join him on the east pier that night, and to bring the telescope. He trades a month's worth of rations for enough meat for a couple of turkey sandwiches and some beers. He figures he at least owes McKay dinner.

When he arrives, McKay already has the telescope set up. A few lonely clouds drift through the night sky, but the stars overhead glow all the same.The lights of the city twinkle, the spires reaching up into the dark sky.

"Will you find it for me?" he asks.

"Find what?"

“You know what.” He gestures at the stars and gives him a smile, which McKay haltingly returns, and he lays out their dinner as McKay tweaks dials on the telescope. It doesn’t take long.

'Here." McKay waves him over, and he looks through the eyepiece to see it once more: blinking in the night, steady like a heartbeat, constant and true. The pulsar.

Sheppard lets out a breath and something soft uncoils in his chest as he looks at it. "That's our star," he says, moving to sit on the pier with his legs dangling over the edge.

"Our star?" McKay joins him. He sits close by, and he radiates warmth in the cool night air. "You're a romantic at heart."

"I guess I am." He can't resist a grin. "It needs a better name though. 'J0056-87' doesn't have much of a ring to it."

As he sounds out each number, McKay's eyes keep dropping to his lips. He leans closer. So does McKay.

"We could always rename it," McKay suggests. There are only a few scant inches between them, and his voice is low.

Sheppard lets this drag out, a shiver of anticipation running up his back. "Any ideas?"

"We could name it after me." McKay grins too. "I mean, as the foremost astrophysicist in not one but two galaxies, it seems only apt -"

Sheppard interrupts what he's sure would be a lengthy recap of McKay's skills and career by kissing him.

Judging by the way McKay kisses him back like he's been starving for it, hands running through his hair and trying to pull him even closer, that was a good call.

It’s dizzying and overwhelming, and it’s also the most natural thing in the world. When they break apart, McKay’s lips are red and kiss-swollen. It’s a sight Sheppard could get used to.

“I’m really glad you made it back to us,” McKay says, chewing his lip.

Sheppard takes his hand. “I had to make it home,” he says, quietly. It’s like leaping headfirst into an abyss, but knowing that someone is there to catch you at the bottom. “Everything I care about is here.”

#stargate atlantis #mcshep #john sheppard #rodney mckay #my writing #i had so much fun writing this #i am living my most self-indulgent life this 2021

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itwoodbeprefect · 3 years

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decided to just compile a bunch of comments about my sga 1x01 rising rewatch into a single post because i don’t actually want to make a hundred posts in a row, so here, under the cut, many rambles:

announcer guy does, in fact, speak english upon a second attempt. well done on not forgetting to not speak german, announcer guy.

“i’m afraid of the thing” elizabeth says, about the drone chair, while standing next to it and looking like she wants to fuck it

rodney in that orange sweater! very orange! very warm!

john is on screen. john’s first words are helicopters he knows how to fly. john KINDA LIKES IT in antarctica. john has barely done anything and i already feel like crying a little bit about this guy who LIKES ANTARCTICA because he just wants to fly

POOR CARSON when he almost kills two people. “ai told ya ai was the wrong pursohn” :(

i really love how john sees the drone coming at the (landed) helicopter and yells “get out!” and they throw open their doors and john JUMPS and then it’s just “ugh.” and he’s belly-down on the floor and still like, almost under the helicopter. an attempt was made, for sure. just not a very succesful one.

the way john looks around like he’s never seen a ceiling before when he enters the base is just. very funny. and then some guy in particular is looking at him because he’s a bit of a weirdo and john looks back and the guy sort of looks him up and down and john looks away as if to check if anybody saw that. hmm.

john’s face of “oops” after he sits down in the chair and it ACTIVATES and carson RUNS OFF to go get literally everyone and john is realizing he MAY have just made a very giant big mistake. PRICELESS

teyla: my people have long believed the wraith will come if we venture into the ancient city. sumner, when the wraith come after he ventures into the ancient city: [surprised pikachu face]

gotta love how john insisting on saving his people is what wakes up the wraith, and saving his people is also what landed john in antarctica in the first place because he tried it in afghanistan once before. which wouldn’t have happened if there hadn’t been an american war in afghanistan in the first place, which there wouldn’t have been if bush hadn’t thrown the us into it, which wouldn’t have happened without 9/11, so... bin laden woke the wraith?

on the other hand john would never have had to go on a rescue mission on his first day in pegasus if sumner hadn’t gone into that city against the wishes of the people that already lived there and had a history dating back thousands of years with the place, so more realistically, the expeditions’ colonizer mentality woke the wraith. and then they just kinda... kept going with that for the rest of the show, because it worked out so well on that first day.

anyway i’m not even there yet - puddlejumper! it jumps puddles!

have to love the moment john realizes the puddlejumper is pretty literally reading his mind and giving him anything he can think of that is within its power (so no turkey sandwiches, but that’s okay). john is already in love with it just based on the fact that IT CAN FLY AND GO FAST (“i kinda like it here”, restored) but then all the ancient technology just seems to know him and love him back and gives him way more than he even thinks to ask for. which, for john, who doesn’t really do well expressing desires? a FLYING SHIP that then READS HIS MIND? starstruck. love at first sight. john&puddlejumper, instant bffs. i bet it would have popped a compartment with some stray bits of wire if he’d asked for a friendship bracelet right then and there. ford sitting there witnessing this doesn’t even know how hard he’s thirdwheeling it in that moment.

now i am at the bit where sumner is taken from the wraith prison to see the actual wraith, and look, obviously they’re evil and feed on humans etc etc, but this particular wraith’s sense of dramatics? unparalleled. she has them bring her victims one by one to a large foggy room with a looong table set with a wonderful dinner and then she LEAVES a DEAD BODY sitting at the head of the table (implied to be the athosian that was taken before sumner?) and drops down from the ceiling while sumner has his back turned for no reason except the spectacle of it all, and dracula himself literally couldn’t have made a better display out of this. it’s maybe scary in the way that it makes clear she’s a cat toying with a helpless mouse before she eats it, but it’s also hilarious in the way that this is absolutely a very bored immortal being who had to stay up while the rest went to sleep and is inventing high school improv plays with her dinner for some diversion. don’t play with your food, wraith queen. you’re scaring your dinner.

life signs detector!!! ford didn’t get to name the puddlejumpers gateships, but that one stuck, no matter how much “we can name it later” john was trying to throw at it!!!

(god. there’s a ficlet somewhere in there about season 2 john having a moment where he realizes he’s on the hunt for ford using the thing they first discovered together and that ford gave its name.)

getting sidetracked here, but when john and ford find the group of humans caught by the wraith teyla goes “major!” and it makes me think that. well. how are the athosians supposed to know things like “major” and “colonel” are military ranks? what are the chances the pegasus galaxy uses the same designations? (don’t really know how the language thing works here - we’re hopefully not supposed to think they’re all speaking english, are they? i’ve never watched sg1, there’s probably lore about this, i assume. maybe alien titles somehow get perfect translations to earth ones and vice versa.) but i mean, teyla is too smart, she’d have it figured out already even if those words don’t exist in her galaxy, but some athosian somewhere is going to be very confused by this earth tendency to name way too many kids private and lieutenant, and then put all of them into the army. strange, to have your job decided for you at birth like that. earth people are weeeeird.

fjdkl john is like bye, gonna go find colonel sumner all on my own, run if you don’t hear from me in twenty minutes, and ford’s like “you’re the only one who can fly these people out of here” and “i’m saying i should be the one to go, sir” and john, with his savior can’t-leave-anyone-behind-gotta-do-this-personally-or-i-will-literally-die-from-not-almost-dying complex DOES NOT LISTEN to ford’s EXTREMELY ACCURATE objection. which is his right, as ranking officer, but is also a perfect showcase of why john Should Not Ever be in charge of atlantis, and why sam saying he was totally on the shortlist when she takes over command in s4 is funny but frightening if you’re on atlantis and like being alive.

sumner: “we travel through the stargate as peaceful explorers.” FDJKFD. god, that line, from that character, hilarious.

rodney comes to elizabeth full of enthusiasm about all the interesting stuff they’re finding in the city only to find her staring at the empty gate and when she says she should never have let them (the rescue party) go, he sobers up and says awkwardly “for what it’s worth, you made the right decision” and that’s GOOD that’s KIND.

back on the planet with the wraith everyone is running to the jumper while there are wraith darts whizzing through the air and teyla turns back, catches up with ford who was told to cover their six, disarms him (because he was firing at illusions, revealing their position), hands him back his weapon, pulls him in the direction of the puddlejumper, and PUSHES HIM ASIDE when they’re almost scooped up by a wraith dart, and i’m so here for teyla being allowed a moment of heroics that saves specifically ford, guy with a gun, and not a random athosian damsel in distress. teyla is fully on their level. teyla is perhaps above their level. thank you.

that scene at the end of this episode!! in which there’s a sort of party on atlantis and it’s all buzzing and relaxed while the athosians are mingling freely with the expedition members and they’re talking of friendship and ugh. UGH. there’s a better version of sga in an alternate universe where the expedition didn’t decide atlantis was totally theirs, actually, and they cooperate with the people that were already in the galaxy when they came there and learn from sumner’s mistake to actually respect what they have to say and form a single front and teyla takes over as head of the expedition in s4 when there’s a void left by elizabeth’s absence.

final thought that has always haunted me a little: john suddenly becoming the ranking military member on atlantis after sumner’s death is ?? one of those things where i wonder what the sgc was thinking in their personnel assignments. john wasn’t even supposed to BE THERE. if john hadn’t gone and sumner had still died (which was something they should have considered as a possiblitiy! they didn’t know what they were walking into at all! sumner is apparently the type to lead his own missions!), then what exactly would they have done? i don’t know much about how the us military operates but i’ve watched enough mash to have figured out the order of the ranks and it just seems. very odd to me? to take one (1) colonel on this mission and then ZERO lieutenant colonels OR majors (if john hadn’t stumbled his way into it, that is). like, are there any captains on atlantis? (i think there are?) or would ford, a lieutenant, have ended up ranking military member? this is like the surely-they-only-need-a-single-medical-doctor-right thing. WHAT IS THE SGC THINKING.

anyway. this was good. i liked this. i hadn’t rewatched the pilot in a while, and i only just now figured out how much of a while, because there was a bunch in here i didn’t remember. ON TO EPISODE TWO.

#stargatezing #here that's the stargate liveblogging tag now #sga #*#stargate atlantis #this is apparently 1600 words so uh. i think this is a better format than stray posts

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ragingpancake · 3 years

Text

Lieutenant Colonel Idiot and the Kastat Root

A/N: I randomly came across a comment the other day while looking for H/C John fics where someone mentioned they wanted to see John having to have some sort of surgery off-world and this monstrosity happened. Unbetaed so all errors are mine, sorry about it!

Part 2 will be posted soon!

It starts with a stomachache and a fever. Okay no, scratch that. It started three days ago with a stomachache and a fever that he so stupidly decided to keep quiet about. He’d known that there was an upcoming mission on the books, knew that his team was scheduled to go off-world and knew that anything so much as a hangnail would ground him. So he’d just… you know, not mentioned it to anyone. Boy, had that been a mistake. So, it started three days ago with a stomachache and a the slightest of fevers that had just not gone away, annoying and ever present, but not so bad enough that it gave him cause for concern. Even earlier that morning as they loaded up into the Jumper, he’d not given it much thought, figuring that they’d just get through this mission and then he’d go talk to Carson if it hadn’t eased up. That had been his second mistake. Which is how he’s ended up here, sandwiched in between Ronon and Teyla at the feasting table with the good people of M3-X982 while Rodney waxes poetic about the almost-meatloaf they’d been served, all while trying to ignore just how hot he’d gotten, along with the stabbing pain he was experiencing less intermittently and more frequently as the night went by. He thinks he’s doing a fine job of hiding it, really, when Teyla leans over, a gentle hand resting on his shoulder. “Are you alright, Colonel?” Busted.

He means to give her a lazy, lopsided smile, to brush off her concern but what happens instead is that another stabbing pain shoots through his middle and all he can do is gasp at the force of it, loud enough that even Rodney actually shuts up for once. Three things happen in rapid succession: Ronon, assuming the worst, rises quick enough to knock the chair he’s been occupying backwards, while pulling out the blaster and aiming it at their hosts while Teyla speaks quickly, trying to diffuse the situation, ever the diplomat. And John… well, he tries to tell Ronon to knock it off, that the Plesians hadn’t poisoned him, but all he manages is a pained whimper before his entire world seemingly shifts on its axis and sends him tumbling off of his chair and to the ground, keening like a wounded animal. -- He doesn’t realize at first that he’s curled up on his side, drenched in his own sweat and covered in vomit and oh wow, when did he even throw up? “Colonel Sheppard,” Teyla says, her voice calm and soothing, and when he glances up at her, he can see Rodney over her shoulder, completely scandalized at the mess. It might be funny, except you know, John’s having a real hard time focusing on anything other than the pain. “John,” Teyla says again, more firm this time, and right, okay, focusing. He can do this. He totally can. “Doctor Frenlen would like to examine you but for this to happen, we need to get you back to the quarters the Plesians have so graciously provided. Can you stand?” “Are you crazy?” Rodney snaps and he might be even more pale than John is. “Of course he can’t stand, if he could stand, he wouldn’t be laying in a puddle of his own puke, now would he?” Teyla, the beautiful soul that she is, doesn’t even dignify Rodney’s snappish response with so much as a glance, instead looking up to Ronon with a nod. “Sorry Sheppard,” he mutters before he’s crouching down and lifting John into his arms. And John, stoic though he usually is… Well. He doesn’t really remember that part but later, Ronon will tell him about how he screamed and promptly passed out. Great. ----

See, this a prime example as to why Rodney McKay actually hatesthe Pegasus Galaxy. Atlantis, not so much, though there have been times that he’s found himself very cross with her too, but usually, she doesn’t try to kill them.

Well, perhaps that wasn’t entirely accurate, what with the (almost) ascension thing. And the virus meant to eradicate anyone not possessing the ATA gene… And the-- Okay, you know what? May she has tried to kill them but that’s not the point right now. The point is, they’re stuck on another god forsaken planet with absolutely no access to the gate thanks to the literal acid rainthat’s pouring down outside, something that the Plesians assure them will pass come morning because it does this every damn night here and why on Earth hadn’t the ancient database warned them of this?

Maybe he needs to take Atlantis off the pedestal he’s placed her on and add her to the list of things he hates about Pegasus after all. Okay, he’ll take that back. Maybe. Probably once Sheppard’s done with his poorly timed medical emergency, which brings him back to the present, crowded in a tiny room with a man old enough to be his grandfather “examining” the aforementioned Colonel. Rodney has never wished Carson was part of their gate team as much as he does in this moment, because for all the ways that medical “science” was actual voodoo, at least Carson seemed to be the most intelligent shaman they’ve come across to date. Present company included. The “Doctor” is hovering over John, poking and prodding, each touch eliciting quiet moans and whimpers from the barely conscious Sheppard, which worries Rodney enough as is. John usually prefers to suffer in manly silence and the fact that’s unable to remain stupidly stoic in this particular instance means that something must be really, really wrong. And that’s when Frenlen’s hand barely ghosts over John’s right side and the scream that Sheppard releases is one that raises the hairs on the back of his neck. “Please,” John pants as Teyla takes his hand, offering him as much comfort as she possibly can while Ronon stands at John’s head, fingering his blaster with an almost murderous look directed at Frenlen. “Please don’t do that again,” and another pained moan escapes him. Rodney, for his part, is taken back to the week after his seventeenth birthday when he was hospitalized with acute appendicitis and oh no. Oh, no, no, no. “What is it, Doctor McKay?” Teyla asks and he doesn’t realize that he’s moved from the spot that he’s previously been rooted to. He ignores her, glaring down at Sheppard. “How long?” He asks through almost clenched teeth. “What are you—“ Ronon tries, but Rodney cuts him off. “How long, Sheppard?” And Rodney might smack him if not for the fact that his fri—the Colonel didn’t look quite so pathetic, black hair matted to his forehead with fever, face pale from the pain. He still thinks about it when John answers, “coupla’ days.” “He needs the kastat root,” Frenlen interjects and Rodney has never hated medicine as much as he does in this moment. “No,” he snaps. “He needs an appendectomy.” Frenlen blinks at him, face blank and oh great. Of course. Of course he has no idea what Rodney’s talking about because that’s absolutely their luck. “We need to get back to the gate,” Rodney says and Frenlen shakes his head. “You can’t. The rain will not cease until morning,” which was still several hours away by their estimation and what if Sheppard doesn’t have that long? If his stupid appendix has already ruptured, there’s a possibility that infection is already seeping into abdominal cavity, and with Lieutenant Colonel Idiot having sat on this for “a coupla’ days” (God, Rodney wants to punch him), there’s an extremely good chance that that’s exactly what’s taking place. If not, Rodney would bet that they don’t have much longer until it does. “Rodney,” Teyla says, pulling Rodney from his thoughts. “What do we need to do?” We? “He needs his appendix removed!” Rodney says and if he sounds a little distressed by that little fact, he thinks he’s probably a little entitled. “We need Carson, we have to—.” “Rodney, I need you to focus,” Teyla says again. “John needs you to focus.” He can tell she’s just as worried as he is, can see it in her eyes but damn if she doesn’t hide it well. “We cannot get to the Stargate until morning. Can this wait until then?” “No! No, this definitely cannot wait until morning! He needs surgery, and, and, and—” “Then tell us what you need us to do so that we might begin.” What? What? “What do you--.” “Doctor Frenlen is uncertain of this ailment, but it seems that you are. As you said, we need to move quickly and--.” “I don’t… I don’t know if I’m exactly okay with this,” Sheppard manages and as Teyla’s hand moves to his overly warm forehead, Rodney feels a little insulted by that.

“What do you mean, you’re not okay with this!” He says, despite the fact that he’snot okay with this. Now, it’s just a matter of pride, honestly. “I mean you’re a scientist, Rodney. Not a… fuck. Not a doctor.” “John,” Teyla says gently and when the Colonel glances up to meet her eyes, her face softens just a bit. “We may not have a choice. You are very sick, according to Doctor McKay, and we have no access to the Stargate for several more hours. This is our only option.” “Are we really doing this?” Ronon asks, and Rodney and Teyla respond at the same time. “No!” “Yes!” But Rodney can’t do this. He’s no longer offended because he knows John’s right. He’s not a medical doctor, he has no idea what he’s doing and, and, and. “I’ll do it then,” Ronon growls. “Oh, great idea!” Rodney snaps again because that’s exactly what Sheppard needs; Chewbacca poking around in his guts, more than likely causing more damage. “The kastat root,” Doctor Frenlen supplies unhelpfully and Rodney wonders if the entire galaxy has gone mad in this moment. “Shut up!” And the doctor steps back, mouth snapped closed, and Rodney’s just about to tell them all that they have no choice but to wait, when John pitches over the side of bed, vomiting violently, and when an actual sobescapes him, Rodney realizes that he is so, so screwed. “I need… I need something to knock him out,” he says in a voice that doesn’t sound quite like his own. “The kas—” “If you say kastat root one more time--…” “Rodney!” Teyla admonishes and excuse him if he’s a little stressed right now. He’s allowed to be, considering he’s about to cut someone open. “The kastat root,” Doctor Frenlen says, “has several medicinal properties. We use it on Plesia to numb the pain from certain injuries.” Oh. Well. How was Rodney supposed to know that? “It’ll knock him out, right?” There’s a look of confusion on the doctor’s face, and when they get back to Atlantis, Rodney is so deleting this gate address from the database. NEVER AGAIN. “What Doctor McKay is asking,” Teyla interjects, “is if your kastat root will render the Colonel unconscious.” “Oh no,” Frenlen responds. “Not at all. But it should help with the pain.” Sheppard must sense just how entirely screwed he is but he seems resigned to his fate. “Do it,” he manages. “I don’t think you understand just what you’re asking me to do!” And if Rodney is shrieking just a little, they’ll just have to deal with it. “I can’t just—” “Rodney,” John says again, voice catching in his throat. “I trust you.” “The root, Doctor Frenlen,” Teyla says urgently and the doctor moves to dig through his bag, producing the smallest vial of anything Rodney has ever seen. Before he can protest any further, Teyla pops the cork and with one gentle hand cupping John’s chin, she urges him to open his mouth to drink. He does, and once she’s satisfied, she glances up at Ronon. “Hold him down,” she says quietly. “ I need--. I need a knife,” Rodney manages in a voice that does not sound like his own, and of course Frenlen is no further help but there’s Ronon, pulling a dagger from his boot and Rodney blanches. This is so not sanitary. He uses the procured dagger to slice away John’s shirt and Rodney can see the slight distension of his stomach. He can only pray that it hasn’t yet ruptured because he has nothing to clean the infection and between that and using a dagger from Ronon’s boot, Rodney is certain that John will not survive that. But as certain as he is of that, he’s also certain that if they do nothing, there’s still a good chance that John won’t survive and, and, and--. “You’re gonna… you’re gonna have to hold him extremely well,” Rodney says to Ronon, eyes wild, face coated in a sheen of sweat and when did it get so hot in here? “If he moves even the slightest—” “I’ve got him,” Ronon assures him and Teyla does too, having moved down to Colonel’s legs to hold them in place so that he would not kick. Rodney chances a glance down at John’s face and the other man gives him a barely there

nod before he swallows hard as Rodney brings the knife down, pressing it against him… --- The sound of John’s screams will haunt Rodney for the rest of his life. He’s under no delusions about that. He’d once thought that nothing would ever compare to watching John be fed on by Koyla’s wraith, but hearing those screams, knowing he’d been the one to cause it… The acid rain has stopped.

Teyla had left some time ago to run to the gate. Frenlen had finally proved more useful when he’d produced more of those little vials of kastat root. Rodney had taken them moment he’d dropped the dagger, John’s thankfully in tact appendix on the floor at his feet, and forced them down the Colonel’s throat. He figured if the asshole overdosed from some off-world root, then that was on him because they should’ve never asked Rodney--… He should have never… They shouldn’t… He doesn’t get a chance to complete another thought before the door to the room opens and in spills Carson with a skeleton med crew, ushering Rodney out of the way. And honestly, Rodney’s doing okay, he’s holding it together until someone steps on the appendix and all of a sudden all bets are off. He gags, but before he has a chance to upend all the contents of his stomach, Ronon is hauling him off, barely managing to get him outside before Rodney loses it. The noises that escape him as he pukes up everything he’s eaten for what feels like the last three weeks should be embarrassing. The entire situation shouldbe embarrassing but Rodney doesn’t care. There’s vomit and snot and tears (oh, where did they come from?) when he finally gags one last time, spitting out a mouth full of bile, and he didn’t even realize he was no longer alone until he feels a heavy hand drop onto his shoulder. “You did good,” Ronon says gruffly, like maybe Rodney’s not the only one affected by what they did. After all, Ronon was the one who’d been helping to hold him down once Rodney had started cutting, even as John screamed and begged for them to stop. Rodney says nothing until the medical team comes out, carrying John on a gurney will Teyla following close behind. She pauses, briefly, and reaches for Rodney’s hand, squeezing ever so gently, but Rodney waits until she’s far enough away before he glances up at Ronon. “We are never coming back to the this backwards fucking…” He doesn’t even have to finish before Ronon is nodding and squeezing his shoulder. “Come on,” the Satedan says. “Let’s go home.” -- By the time they make it back to Atlantis, it seems that the entire base is waiting for them. Rodney doesn’t even get an opportunity to say anything to Carson or the still unconscious Sheppard before he’s being pulled away by Elizabeth for a SITREP and she barely gets out the standard Weir what the hell happened before Rodney is puking again. Great.

Part 2

#fandom: sga #stargate atlantis #sga #sga fic #hurt!john sheppard #john sheppard whump #hurt/comfort #john sheppard #rodney mckay #teyla emmagan #ronon dex #teamfic

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elderkale · 4 years

Text

all you have to do is breathe. but you could never do that right either, could you?

tell me we’ll never get used to it - all you have to do is breathe. but you could never do that right either, could you?

“Glospin?”

“Theta. How nice of you to join us.”

“Why’re the lights off, what’re you—”

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, cousin dear.”

“Glospin, what—oh.”

“Back away, Theta.”

“Glospin, what did you—”

“Ow!”

“Glospin!”

“You’ve stabbed me! You stabbed me!”

“What the hell are you doing? Get up, he—shit.”

“Help! Somebody, help!”

“Stop it!”

“What’s going on?”

“Oh, my god.”

“She stabbed me! She killed him, and she stabbed—”

“I didn’t do this, I just found—”

“Fuck, I can’t feel my fingers—oh, god, I’m faint—”

“Shut up!”

“Get her away from me!”

“Quences, he—”

“It was him—”

“I can’t—”

“I didn’t do this!”

“Stop it!”

“Get her off—fuck!”

“What the hell’ve you done?!”

“Hello, Theta.” She glances up at the new man.

“Hello. I like your waistcoat.”

The doctor smooths the wrinkles in it as he sits, placing his notebook on his knee. “Thank you.”

“They won’t let me have a waistcoat,” she says. Her chin is in her hand, elbow propped up on the armrest. It’s an expensive chair—it feels like one, at any rate—and she’s half-afraid her arm will sink into the leather. “Or a suit, for that matter. I’ve asked for one, asked them to bring me one from home, but they keep saying no. Why do you suppose that is?”

“When you say they, are you referring to your family?”

“Lovely weather, isn’t it?” she says, cocking her head in her hand. It’s pouring buckets, and the window panes rattle with every fat droplet.

“I suppose it is,” says the doctor, “if you like the downpour.”

“Rain’s nice,” she says. “Rain’s brilliant.”

He chuckles. “No shortage of that in Cardiff.”

“Love a good rainstorm,” she says. “And there’s always the best puddles afterwards. Mud, too. Love mud. Bad rep.” She frowns. “Too bad.” She glances at him out of the corner of her eye. There’s something written at the top of the page, but she can’t make out what it is. Shorter than a note, longer than the date. “Are you going to tell me that that’s a metaphor?”

“Do you see it as a metaphor?”

She shrugs. “Don’t know. Sounds like something you’re supposed to say.” She drops her arm and rolls her head back, staring up at the ceiling. “Why’s it always got to be a metaphor? Can’t anything just be what it is? Though,” she says, tilting her head from side-to-side, letting it roll across the back of the might-be-be-expensive chair, “I guess things wouldn’t be as interesting, then.” She glances up. The doctor is looking at her, a look of amusement writ across his face. “Sorry, were you talking? Carry on.”

“I didn’t say anything,” he says, still smiling. It’s a bit condescending, that smile, like he’s talking to a child. She wants to smack him.

“You’re supposed to. Maybe. I don’t do this often.”

“These sessions are for us to speak to each other, and for you to help me understand.”

“Understand.”

“You. Your issues.”

“Ah, of course.” She grins. She’s sure it doesn’t reach her eyes. “My issues.”

“You don’t think you have any?”

“Oh, no, I have plenty.”

“Which are?”

“I’m delusional, I suppose,” she says. “Mad? I’m afraid I don’t know the terms. I mauled my cousin, and I’ve been told by various—” she picks at a loose string on the pocket of her jeans, “—irrefutable sources that I stabbed him and killed my great-uncle, too.”

“You don’t believe it.”

“Oh, no.” She smiles pleasantly. “I’m a pacifist, you see.”

“Oh?”

Theta makes a face and leans over the armrest. “Nice courtyard,” she says, peering out the window. “Bit bland, but nice. Cobblestone, very daring, especially in this economy. Are we allowed outside? I think some fresh air would be nice, don’t you? Very good for—” she mimes a deep breath, then twirls her finger beside her head. “You know, clearing the head?” The doctor opens his mouth and she cranes her neck a bit further. “Lovely flowers,” she says. “What are those, daisies? Chrysanthemums? Dianthus caryophyllus?”

“. . . Dandelions.”

All in all, it’s a fantastic waste of time.

The thing about time, see, is that it passes. Obviously.

It’s not something she normally has the time (ha) to dwell on. Better things, yeah?

The thing about being shoved into a box is that she fancies she can feel each and every individual second scraping by. It’s grating, the boredom, and she thinks that, if she hadn’t been mad before, she certainly is now.

She’s finished all the books by the second week. She’s exhausted all scenarios of revenge by the third. She’s had two lamps, a chair, and her curtains confiscated by the fourth, and cutlery privileges revoked three days later.

She bursts into hysterical giggles when they come back and search her bedframe and even the pack of cards she hasn’t touched, and gets sedated for her effort.

It’s the first time she’s laughed since Christmas.

“Still no Black Sabbath?” asks Manny-with-the-hair.

“Nope.” She grins up at him, strumming a G.

He shakes his head, and his hair flops around his shoulders. It’s a fascinating thing to see from upside-down. “Shameful,” he tuts. “What’s this, then?”

She plucks a D. “Brahms.”

He watches her swallow her medication, and she waves him off with a grin. She spits out the pill the second the door shuts, wrinkling her nose as she wipes her tongue on the back of her sleeve.

She unwinds the axe that night, and cuts through the paint on her window with the tip of the D string. She picks the lock with E and B, and swings to the ground with the help of her bedclothes and G. She leaves the body on her bed with a smiley face drawn in black marker below the bridge.

She doesn’t get far. But that’s not the point.

“You’ve escaped twice this past month, Theta.”

“I’ve been caught twice,” she corrects. “On an unrelated note, I’m playing at a pub in Riverside next Thursday, so don’t be too disappointed when I don’t show up for our appointment.”

He gives her an admonishing look. “Theta.”

“You’re right, you’re right,” she sighs. “I lied. It’s on Tuesday. Hey, you should stop by!”

“You haven’t been speaking with any other patients.”

“You’re not going to tell me that I’m antisocial, are you?”

“That’s exactly what I’m telling you, Theta.” He leans forward. “It’s not good, to isolate yourself.”

“It’s not good for me to be locked up,” she counters, “but you still do it anyway.”

He ignores her. “You’ve only got one person on your visitor’s list. Isn’t there anyone else you’d like to add?”

She shrugs. There’s a ragged part of the armrest where she’s been putting her elbow, and she picks at the cracking leather with her nail. “Not that I can think of.”

“The number of people you keep denying says otherwise.” She ignores him. She slides lower in her seat and glances out the window. It’s sunny, ridiculously so, and the light bounces off the window and back into her eyes, making her wince.

She rubs the edge of her jumper between her thumb and forefinger. The wool is worn and growing threadbare. “Don’t wanna see.”

He tilts his head. She sees him ready his pen. “They don’t want to see you? Or you don’t want to see them?”

“Bit socially awkward, me,” she says over him, twisting a loose curl of purple yarn around her finger. “Wouldn’t know what to say. Not much to talk about. I think I’d just—” She waves her hand. “Make a weird noise and drift off. No point in them making the trip for that.”

“That’s just an excuse, Theta, and I think you and I both know it.”

“Excuses are just reasons you don’t like.” She shrugs. “Anyways.”

“Yes?” She shrugs again. He switches tactics. “Tell me about your family.”

She raises an eyebrow. “I thought you were supposed to be subtle.”

“You don’t respond to subtlety,” he says frankly.

“Eh.”

“You don’t get on with them.”

“Gold star!” she proclaims. “That doctorate is well-earned, I see.”

“Your relationships are strained. How did that happen?” Silence. He tries again. “What sets you apart from them, Theta?”

She groans. “My grandfather made his fortune digging up rocks,” she says. “My brother made his carving them into octopi with boobs. My father wasted his on his woes and exotic cheese. Meanwhile, I live in a loony bin and have no money. Happy?”

“Not particularly.”

“Hm. Shame.”

She spreads the envelopes out in front of her like a puzzle. The edges and corners slot together, just, and she runs her fingers over the gaps in her mosaic of correspondence. The paper is rough, just enough to bump and drag against her skin, and she runs her fingertips along the scalloped edges of the stamps.

There’s quite a number of them—not as much as she’d thought, but still more than she’d expected. She sees a magazine she doesn’t remember taking out a subscription for, and a handful of letters addressed in a familiar cramped scrawl.

She relishes the dig of hard edges into her hand as she balls each one of them up and drops them in the bin.

“You can’t keep doing this, Theta.”

“I’m insane,” she says with a smile that was all teeth and no warmth. “I can do what I want.”

“You’re not, and you know it.”

Brax looks conspicuously out-of-place, washed-out and sickly, beneath the dingy fluorescent lighting. The maroon of his suit stands out like a sore thumb against the stained yellow of his seat.

Theta nudges a pawn forwards. “Really? I don’t know, everyone else seems pretty insistent on it.”

Brax barely spares the board a glance as he picks up his knight. He taps the base of the plastic piece against each square, and Theta scowls. “It’s this or prison, and—”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” She scowls, slamming another pawn down. Brax glances down his nose at it, and shifts it closer to the centre of the square. “My sincerest apologies. How selfish of me to forget about your reputation when there’s a murderer walking free.”

He captures her queen and places it on his side of the rickety table, lining it up with her other fallen pieces. She glares at the board for a moment, then moves a piece at random. Brax lets out a long-suffering sigh that makes her want to punch him, and corrects its course. “This is a situation, Theta, and, as usual, you’ve done nothing to help alleviate it.”

“Far be it for your best speeches to be wasted in a hospital sitting room.” She sinks lower into her seat and stretches out her legs. Her scuffed trainers bump against the polished toes of his shoes and he shoots her a look promising nothing short of bloody vengeance before moving them out of the way.

“Petulance won’t help you.”

“Oh, no,” she says monotonously. “My great plan has been foiled.”

“They’ve told me that you’ve been escaping.”

“It’s not that hard, after the first few times,” she says. She kicks the seat of his chair. Thump thump thump. His eye twitches. “You should try it sometime. I’m sure you’d look lovely in a straightjacket.”

“Theta.” She throws her hands into the air.

“I’m going mad, Irving,” she spits, “madder than usual, and this is not my fault! Fuck’s sake, I didn’t kill him!”

“I’d stop shouting, if I were you,” he says drily. There’s a nurse glaring at her from the corner, and she makes sure she sees her stick her tongue out at her before turning back to her brother.

Brax shifts a bishop forwards. Theta stares at it, then reluctantly moves a pawn into the empty space. The sleeves of the stolen jumper are just a bit too long and loose, covering her hands, and the dangling ends knock a piece over. Brax straightens it. “How are the elections?” she asks. He ignores her, and captures the pawn. “Oh, am I not allowed to ask? Or are those over? It’s just so hard to keep track of things in here.”

“Theta.”

She cocks her head. “What about the funeral?” He glowers at her.

“Which one?”

She raises an eyebrow. “Pardon?”

He lets out a hiss of annoyance. “Haven’t you read a single letter?”

She lets out a long, drawn-out sigh. “It’s just so hard, you know?” she says. “To hear about things and know I won’t be able to take part?” She flutters her eyelashes. He looks nauseous. “Solitary confinement’s considered a form of torture, you know.”

“Glospin’s dead.”

She blinks slowly. Then again. When she opens her eyes for the third time, she’s still watching him. She leans forward and captures a rook. His eyes flick down to the board for a fraction of a second, then back again. “My condolences,” she says slowly.

“And mine.” He sounds almost bitter.

“Open casket?” she asks innocently.

She thinks he might have cracked his bishop. “Cremation,” he says with a glare.

“Conservative.” She nods. “Nice. Were there cocktails at the reception?”

He slams his knight into check and stands, straightening his suit. “Koschei Oakdown wants to be put on your visitor’s list,” he says shortly, doing up the buttons of his jacket. “I’ve denied it for you.”

She twists the corner of the jumper. “Thanks.”

“Lovely seeing you. Don’t get well soon. And read the letters, will you?” He slings his coat over his shoulder and then he’s gone, the door slowly swinging shut behind him. Not quite as dramatic as she thinks he was aiming for, but they’re not allowed to have slamming doors.

Her captured pieces are neatly lined up across from her like an army of ghosts, the remaining ones pinpricks across a board dominated by black. Her handful of hostages are scattered across the table, sad and pitiful in comparison.

She grabs her king and hurls it to the ground.

The floor is carpeted. It lands without a sound.

#tmwnguti #god bless present tense #doctor who #dw #the doctor #thirteenth doctor #irving braxiatel #doctor who fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfiction update #au #glospin #lungbarrow

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angstyaches · 4 years

Text

What Good

Oh boy. Here, have it. Direct continuation of Chapter 4.

Warning for emeto, sleep paralysis, implied injury, implied vore(?).

Swallow the World, Chapter 5

9:50pm

“What’s that weird smile about?”

I looked up to see Shayne gazing at me, as intently as I’d been staring at the front of his t-shirt. My face felt red-hot, but there was a little more colour in his face now too, whereas he’d been a little washed-out when he’d arrived.

“Is it the human or the demon half of you that’s enjoying me being in pain?”

“What? Neither,” I said, laughing nervously. “You’re just softer than I expected.”

Oh, God, why did I say that? I might as well have just called him fat, when really, it was just that the leather jacket gave off one impression, while his body gave off another. His hip bones and ribs were softly padded out and when I’d first pressed my palm against his belly, the flesh had rippled just slightly. The only thing hard about it was around the area he’d led to with his fingers, just below his belly button, where the muscles seemed to be cramping.

I swallowed, wondering why he wasn’t saying anything. “Please don’t kill me.”

“Trust me, I don’t have the energy to kill anything right now.” He let out a shaky breath. “So, what, you thought I was made of stone?”

“No,” I laughed. “Leather.”

“Yeah, that makes sense.” Shayne’s voice was heavy, like he was stifling a yawn. He put an arm behind his head, and I swear he pushed his stomach up towards my hand just a little.

I gradually leaned to the side, his legs still stretched over my lap, and used one hand to prop my head up from the bed. I was tired too, but I was too focused on the grumbling of Shayne’s tummy to think about sleep. I wanted to slip my hand under his t-shirt and feel the warmth of it up close, but even in my happy, sleep daze, I knew that wasn’t a great idea.

I didn’t want to shock him so much that he screamed and brought my parents up here. The thought of getting caught with Shayne in my room made my own stomach do a fluttery little twist. Or maybe that feeling was caused by Shayne’s gaze that had fallen on me again.

“Tired?” he asked.

“Just a bit,” I admitted.

“Want me to go, or – or at least move?”

“Don’t you dare,” I sighed, lowering my cheek to the front of his t-shirt. His stomach was thrashing and gurgling next to my ear. I had a flash of panic at the thought of what was actually going on in there, then at the thought of what he claimed he could do. I wondered what it would be like to gasp for air, to frantically search for life, all while being crushed and liquified and –

I hissed through my teeth as my left eye was suddenly shot through with pain. My head felt like someone had just slapped the outside of my skull with a tuning fork. I couldn’t hold back a whimper at the sudden agony.

I started to lift my hand to my head, but there were already fingers gliding through my hair, tracing down my forehead. Goosebumps lifted under the sleeves of my jumper. The tips of Shayne’s fingers brushed lightly against my closed eyelid. My breath shuddered.

“Shayne,” I whispered against his t-shirt, my voice pinched with pain. “Are you going to destroy me?”

As soon as the question was out, and Shayne’s touch began calming my anxiety, the pain in my head and my eye started retreating. I felt Shayne stifle a laugh in his diaphragm.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

3:21am

It was like a bird of prey was shrieking into a tin can and that tin can was in my mouth.

I wrenched my eyelids open with some effort, feeling an echo of the pain in my eye from before I’d gone to sleep. I tried to lift my head from the pillow, but my neck muscles didn’t react to my brain’s commands. It wasn’t a pillow anyway. It was Shayne. I breathed sharply through my nose, my fingers twitching slightly as I attempted to grab at his t-shirt.

A piercing jab of sound shot through my skull. My eyes fell on the slim shadow standing in the middle of my room, watching me as I failed to move. It appeared calm tonight, whereas it would often wander about the room, nudging my things so that they faced the wrong way.

Another piercing cry. The shadow figure turned its head in the direction of the window, reacting to the sound.

Shayne tensed and gasped, trying to sit upright but finding me in the way.

“Char–” he whispered, fear breaking his voice. “Charlie? Charlie, they’re – they’re coming.”

I practically gasped inside my own head, because I’d never heard him sounding so frantic. I tried to speak, tried to tell him I couldn’t wake up, I couldn’t move, but while my throat contracted and filled up with words, my tongue and my jaw limply resisted. I tried to move my hand again. My lungs inflated and deflated more quickly the more Shayne shook me.

The shadow figure reached towards me as that awful ringing warped the silence in the room.

A slap of dull pain thumped against the back of my head, and as I blinked in shock, the shadow figure vanished. My hand gripped at Shayne’s side and I gasped for a decent breath.

All too soon, he pushing at my shoulder so we were both sitting up. His hair was a mess, and his face was horribly pale. He didn’t stop pushing me until we were both standing. My legs were more like shoelaces as he dragged me towards my bedroom door.

“Wait in the hall,” he said, turning the key.

“W-wait – what?” I asked, my voice deep and trembling thanks to the muscles in my mouth and throat that hadn’t quite woken up yet. My skin was tingling and my stomach was sending burning waves of acid up into my chest.

“See you at school, I guess.”

“Shayne –” I heaved and stumbled as I was flung through the doorway and onto the landing.

I immediately sank to my hands and knees as that awful shrieking sound echoed through my head again. A cry died in my throat as my jaw fell open, and a stream of dark, liquid vomit gushed from my mouth to the floor. In the dim light, the disgusting puddle spread across the polished wood, beads of it gathering at the edges.

Glass shattered behind my bedroom door.

I gasped and trembled, feeling my stomach knot up under my ribs, my arms threatening to drop me into my own sick. And my head, my head. Whatever pain had been lurking in my skull felt like it wanted out, it wanted to break right through my flesh and bone.

A mumbled fuck you, and a heavy thumping sound.

“Shayne,” I hissed, sitting back on my knees. I reached a hand towards the door, pulling myself forward when all my bones wanted to do was settle on the floor. I stared up at the door handle, wondering how the hell I was going to reach it when I could barely hold myself up, when –

Click.

The handle turned, the door swinging back. I felt weirdly grateful that my eye was hurting so bad I had my hand pressed to it, because if I’d seen the thing with both eyes, I might have lost my sanity.

Giant leather wings the length of my bed, extending and contracting around a mass of black fur, and a set of knobbly grey claws ripping open the shoulders on Shayne’s jacket. His eyes widened when he saw me, but the creature that had a hold of him didn’t notice I’d opened the door.

The sound of wings whirled around the room, lifting the matted hair from my face and neck. Shayne lowered his gaze just before he was dragged through the shattered window and into the night.

“Shayne,” I whimpered, all too late for him to hear me. What good are you?

I retched on the bedroom floor, even though I was already empty, sobbing and spitting thick saliva on the floor. It could have been seconds or hours before I felt my dad close his hands around my waist.

“Charlie?”

“Charlie, baby, what – what happened?” Mum’s voice was high-pitched with despair. “Oh my god – Trev, there’s blood over there, is he bleeding?”

“He’s – he’s fine. You’re – you’re fine, aren’t you, son?”

Their questions and concerns all warped into white noise. I realised, numbly, that they were panicking too much to notice the out-of-place Doc Martens sitting next to my bed. Dark eyes began to materialise in front of my own, and anger bubbled in my veins as my throat locked up to stop me from screaming.

What good are you?

#charlie #shayne #shayne and charlie #swallow the world #emeto #belly rubs #angst #things go wrong #did i mention angst

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gwoongi · 5 years

Text

acts of love

bts / reader, all members / reader genre: best friends au, fluff + crack rating: general words: 9.6k warnings: platonic relationships, smoking, so much fluff you might need to book an appointment with ur dentist for tomorrow morning ASAP a/n: if u want 2 be bts’ best friend, raise ur hand *thousands of hands raise*. this fic fuels my genuine need to be their bff. i saw this post last night + wrote this immediately. hope u love it like i do :D

➸ As long as you’ve got a good group of friends, anything is possible. Thankfully, you’ve got the best group you could ever ask for.

(01) taking pics of ur friends without them asking u to bc they looked so pretty in that exact moment

“Well, at least the views not so bad. Honestly, I thought it would be a lot worse.”

Beside you, at the top of the bleachers that surround the large football pitch below, Taehyung huffs and kicks his feet up onto the empty row in front of him. It would be easy to just move rows, considering the game’s due to start in ten minutes time, and there’s plenty of empty seats closer. But, he’s bought these seats, and by the looks of things, Yoongi and Hoseok are already comfortable where they are, sharing a big bag of sticky popcorn between them. Casting a look to the right, you notice that Sana and Seunghee are making their way up, dressed in jerseys and caps, and you suddenly feel very out of place.

“Tell me why I came again?” you ask, not looking away from the pitch below. The grass is bright green, and every wandering body down on the pitch is just a small speck.

“Because,” Taehyung starts, unlocking his phone and checking his messages. You snoop- one missed text from Jeongguk and two off his Mom, which makes you smile. Taehyung’s always been a Mommy’s boy. “You love me, and you know that I worked my ass off for two whole months saving up for these tickets. And, since Jimin’s sick and couldn’t come, you decided to be a good friend and take his place.”

With a frown, you look back towards Taehyung. “I don’t know shit about football.”

“Cheer when we do,” Taehyung suggests honestly.

Yoongi perks up, patting your arm roughly. “Do what I do, and cheer for the team with the prettier uniform.”

“Don’t!” Taehyung hisses, grabbing you back. “The other team have a prettier uniform, but if you cheer for them on this side of the stadium, you’re going to get mobbed. Hey, Yoongi, don’t tell her that, she doesn’t know any better.”

“Just football,” Yoongi shrugs.

“Just football…” Taehyung scoffs and shrinks back down in his seat.

You laugh quietly, petting Taehyung’s leg with faux sympathy. As you move your body to glance around the stadium, strangely anticipating the start of the match, a flash out the corner of your eye makes you look over in Hoseok’s general direction. Hoseok holds his phone up, taking a photo, and then smiles as he checks it on the screen.

“Jung Hoseok, delete it now!” you gape, realising what he’s done. “Oh my God, I bet I look so ugly...you could have warned me.”

“Sorry,” he laughs sheepishly. He then shows you the screen, “you looked pretty! And it’s your first live match ever, we had to document it. Yoongi, look. Wow...I’m sending this to Jimin for proof that you’re having fun.”

“What if I’m not having fun?” you ask.

He glances up, “you are.”

Well. If he says so.

(02) randomly giving tiny gifts (a comic book that ur friend likes, a heart-shaped piece of paper with a sweet message on it)

“Can anybody here share the exact chemistry behind Elephant Toothpaste?”

Chemistry is the absolute bane of your life. It’s only been a few weeks, and you’re already regretting taking additional classes in it. Technically, it was Jimin’s fault you were here in the first place. If it wasn’t for the fact that Jimin was afraid of enrolling into classes alone and therefore had guilted you into taking advanced chemistry with him, then you wouldn’t be here. You sigh for the fourth time in the last ten minutes and shove your chin into the palm of your hand. The clock above Professor Han’s head seems to be still, taunting you with zero movements.

Can boredom kill you? You wonder about that, letting your mind wander as Professor Han continues to quiz the front two rows on the exact chemical formula of the affectionately named Elephant Toothpaste. You’re so close to finding the answer when you feel somebody poking your upper arm. The finger that pokes belongs to Jimin, and you angle your head to look at him with a questioning glare.

Jimin smiles, his hair falling into his face. Like you, he rolled out of bed this morning and tried his best to look semi-presentable; if you counted borderline pajama wear and a serious case of bed-head to be presentable and acceptable for a 9am lecture. Jimin says nothing, just smiles and pushes something towards you with two fingers. The sound of the paper sliding towards you brings your gaze down, and as you look away to stare at it, Jimin returns his attention to Professor Han. Bare in mind, his notebook is empty, save doodles of Yewon on the front row, occasionally losing focus and staring around the room for long periods of time.

What Jimin has pushed before you is a small little piece of paper, smoothly cut into a heart shape. Now the sound of scissors makes sense… It’s just scrap paper from the back of his notebook, decorated with tiny stars and circles, a pathetic hand drawn galaxy on the front like a book cover. You slowly pick it up, more interested in this than the lecture. You turn it over curiously, your heart thumping endearingly and a smile picking up on your face as you read what he’s written on the back.

you and me have some serious chemistry. love u

Jimin refuses to make eye contact again. He’ll say something along the lines of, “you’re taking it too seriously” when you’ll no doubt ask him about it later, but really, Jimin’s just a softie, with the sudden need to tell his friends that he loves them. You’re not complaining.

(03) handwritten letters with cute stickers

Something’s been left in your shared kitchen, something with your name on it and closed in an envelope with a small Gudetama sticker. You set your cup of tea to the side, sliding up onto a stool near the breakfast bar to read it. The front is in a bold font, in handwriting you don’t really recognise. Careful of the time and effort put into the appearance, you carefully open the envelope and take out the contents.

Y/N

Good morning. I hope you slept okay - when I came home last night after judo, you were actually passed out on the couch in the common room so I piggy backed you up to your room. Hehe, your room is so dirty though...I think I definitely tripped over a plug that connected your fairylights, so sorry if that doesn’t work anymore. Anyway. I left this morning and left you some nice tea and some tablets (Yoongi said that I should put them in your bathroom, so I literally just left them on your sink). I know you haven’t been having a fun time with midterms and you need to take care of yourself! If you get too sick and can’t do anything, then how will we eat?? You’re our uni mom!!! We need to live too!!!!! D:

I also rented out Harry Potter for later. I know you get really sad and lonely when you’re stressed out, and so we can watch it together when I’m home after my shift at work :D

Hehe, feel better <3 Just remember that Jeonggukie loves you!!!

Drink tea and stay warm :)

Lots of love, Jeongguk :D

The paper is signed with Jeongguk’s messy handwriting, like he ran out of time as he was writing it. The page is littered with tiny Gudetama stickers and the sight of it makes you smile. Along with other little notes Jeongguk’s left for you over the last few months, this one earns a spot on your cork board above your desk.

(04) remembering what ur friend likes or dislikes

You were so late.

Almost getting run over by a bus in the process, you sprint across the small road that separates your flat and the University central campus, missing a deep puddle as you step up off the road and onto the pavement. It pours, your hair soaked and makeup no doubt running and staining your cheeks. Holy fuck, you were so late.

Every Friday, without fail, Flat 6 (aka the large and slightly stinky flat you share with two of your best friends) host an annual movie night, inviting literally all of your extended friendship group which definitely is not allowed, but who cares? You noticed Namjoon’s car pulled up in the car park next door and curse again, knowing you’re the last one to arrive to a movie night you’re technically hosting.

You rush up the stairs, since the elevator is still down for maintenance, and burst into the flat with an announcing groan. From somewhere in the living room, Jeongguk looks up with happy surprise and jumps up off the couch, approaching the hall.

“Y/N! You made it.”

You wince, smiling as you hang up your coat to drip dry on the mat near the door. “Yep. I made it. To my own movie night. That I’m technically helping host.”

“No sweat,” Jeongguk shrugs. “It’s okay. Here, I’ll dump your bag in the closet. Get changed, I think Yoongi’s still preparing snacks, anyway.”

“Okay. Thanks, Jeonggukie.”

He gushes, smiling and raising his shoulders cutely. “It’s okay, Y/N.”

Jeongguk swiftly takes your bag from your clutches, faking the weight with the droop of his knees just to hear you laugh, and then he turns to shuffle down the hall to quite literally toss it into the shared storage closet. You’re not too worried; on days like today, in which you have one 1 hour seminar to attend at 5pm and nothing else, there’s nothing inside your bag worthy of being broken by Jeongguk throwing it to the ground. As he does this, you shudder out of your shoes and make your way to your bedroom, to change into something warm and comfortable for the movie.

The sound of laughter makes you hurry to change, one leg out of your damp and cold jeans whilst simultaneously fishing for some old jogging bottoms out of your bottom draw, a jumper from Yoongi that he thought he lost left for you to grab on your bed. What he doesn’t know and will find out in five minutes won’t hurt him. (Yoongi also doesn’t care, because he’s a whipped best friend who lets you do what you want, including steal clothes he actually needs and can’t really afford to replace. Oh well, sharing is caring!).

Your hair is still soaked, and you move towards the single bathroom squeezed between two bedrooms to ring it out in the sink. Once you’re done, and your hair is thrown up into a scrunchie-decorated pony, you pace back towards the kitchen where, rightly so, Yoongi stands with his back facing you, filling up a glass with Pepsi.

“I thought we threw that shit out,” you announce as you walk in. “You know this flat is Team Coca Cola, those are the rules.”

Yoongi sighs, not looking up. “Yeah, I know, but Namjoon is a monster.”

“He’s so annoying...why can’t he just admit that Coca Cola is better?” you sigh, moving towards Yoongi to see the small bowls of snacks he has ready to be taken into the living room. It’s full in there, people stuffed onto the sofas and the floor where a bed of blankets lies like a mattress.

Yoongi’s outdone himself; the bowls are neatly organised by colour and ingredient, and you smile. Yoongi was a lot of things, one of them a secret perfectionist. Even when it concerned bowls of snacks. God, you love to love him.

“Namjoon’s a man of unpopular opinions, I mean, he really thinks the live action of Attack on Titan is good, like, who actually thinks that?” Yoongi rants, and then he glances to the side towards you, is silent for a moment, and then asks, “is that my jumper?”

You look down at it with a smile. “Yep. It’s comfy.”

Yoongi hums, like he’s bored. “Whatever, looks better on you than it did on me. Who the fuck lied to me and told me dark green was my colour...?”

“Every colour is your colour,” you say, patting his back and reaching for the bowls. “Should I take these in?”

Yoongi then nods, humming again. “Yeah. Yellow bowl is for you, by the way.”

You look to it. “And why is that?”

“Cause I know you don’t like the barbeque flavour chips that are in the red bowl, but everyone else does, so I went out and got you the salty ones. Oh, and there’s a bar of Galaxy in the fridge. Don’t tell Jeongguk, cause he’ll get pissy about how I didn’t get him something.”

As Yoongi tells you this, your heart flutters. You had told him that when you first met, after he offered you some of his chips noticing you were the only person not eating.

“You remembered that?” you wonder, and Yoongi looks at you like you’ve lost your mind.

“I’m a good friend,” he states, as though it were obvious. “Don’t get it twisted, though. I only did it because I don’t want to hear you complaining about it all night.”

You’re sure that’s a lie, but if it makes him feel better, you’ll accept it. You’ll also ignore the embarrassed tinge of red on his cheeks.

(05) inside jokes

[15:16PM] jeongguk: alright fuckers 🔪😡 [15:16PM] jeongguk: who left the kitchen window open all damn night [15:17PM] jeongguk: there’s three spiders in the sink and it rained so the work surface is all wet [15:17PM] jeongguk: [1 Image Attached] not happy bois [15:23PM] jine: i dont even live with you why are you asking the gc this [15:24PM] jeongguk: yoongi has the flat gc muted and idk how else to yell at him [15:28PM] y/n: blame me,,,,i have failed u,,,,,,,im sowwy [15:29PM] jeongguk: hehe its ok ❣️💘💕💓 i’ll clean it up 🥰 [15:32PM] haseul: eye….. [15:39PM] jimin: YALL LMAOODIUGJFKDSLJ [15:39PM] jimin: guess what TF just happened in my maths class [15:41PM] jimin: i forgot that on one of my assignments me and y/n had drawn a camel in the library on the back and he saw and asked me 2 stay behind after class so he could have stern words with me or smthn…..anyway so i go to the front of the class at the end and he’s like “mr park what the hell is this camel doing here” [15:42PM] jimin: and i said sir thats not a camel [15:42PM] jimin: thats my WIFE [15:43PM] y/n: HA HA HA… [15:45PM] yoongi: IF YALL DONT STOP [15:47PM] taehyung: THIS IS THE THIRD TIME YOU’VE MADE THIS REFERENCE AND I DONT KNOW WHAT IT MEANS [15:47PM] taehyung: this inside joke stinks….someone explain to me please what this means 😭😭😭 [15:48PM] hoseok: i hate this damn gc

(06) long phone calls

[Incoming Facetime Call From: Seokjin 👪]

“Hey.”

“Hey. Y/N, are you sitting down because I have some major tea on Professor Kwon and Professor Kim and I’m not supposed to be saying anything and it’s killing me.”

“Oh shit.” Audio shuffles. “I’m lying down now, bitch. Tell me everything.”

“Okay. So…”

[Five Hours Later]

“I’m still in shock about Kwon and Kim.”

“Me too. What’s Kim gonna do, lie and say she had heat rash on her titties?”

“Hopefully she doesn’t get them out for people to see.”

“Literally. God, I hate how our life has resorted to teacher gossip. Are we those students?”

“Yup. Two students bitching about teachers at...like ...midnight?”

“Oh, shit, it’s midnight already??”

(07) facetiming while ur both doing something else (study dates like that are on another level of intimacy)

Jimin’s had the same cold for about two weeks now, and nobody knows what the hell’s up with it. He walks around his flat, according to Hoseok, wrapped up in a blanket and surrounded by a necklace of matted tissues. To be honest, it’s not as bad as he’s making it out to be, but he’s a guy, and so anything that involves a slight stomach pain and a blocked nose instantly translates to man flu, which is almost as bad as the plague.

That being said, Jimin’s set himself under “house arrest” and is therefore glued to his bed or desk chair, still managing to move his sore and aching joints to write a few words on his lab report. With the first round of finals creeping up, Jimin actually wants to go to the library, but, man, what with his man flu and everything, he just can’t seem to do it.

On the other hand, he has you to set the mood for him. After snagging a corner table in the library near the big windows, you make a barrier out of your bag and books to watch the sunset, Taehyung opposite using minimal space with his laptop and headphones, watching a documentary he’ll need to cite for his essay. Jeongguk naps next to you, having exhausted himself from his shift last night that ran into the early hours and Sana secretly paints her nails, blowing them dry as she takes a break from writing.

Once you’re settled and comfortable, you reluctantly peel away the slice of tape covering your webcam (because Black Mirror has forever scared you into thinking 4Chan are watching you and will hold your endless hours of Games2Girls dot com against you) and open up Facetime, ringing Jimin who waits patiently back home.

After a few rings, Jimin’s bright and tired face pops up on the screen and you both silently wave. Jimin has his mic muted, but yours is on, allowing the ambience of the library trick Jimin into believing he’s actually there. It’s not quite like an ordinary study date, but for now, it’ll do. He opens his textbook and starts to work, comfortable and happy now that he’s listening to his friends discuss work, like he’s there. He smiles, occasionally glancing up to see your face working or Jeongguk unintentionally leaning into frame. It’s comforting. He works well.

(08) cooking something for ur friend

“Merry Christmas, Tae. Oh, wait, I have something for you.”

Taehyung is hosting a Christmas party this year, in the apartment he shares with some of the girls in your group and Namjoon. His flat is lit up with lights, draining the electricity, the tree sparkling like diamonds in the front living room that looks out onto the Seoul city. The sound of Michael Bublé sings out festively and Taehyung leads you through to the kitchen, out of the loud madness of the party that’s getting into full swing. In one hand, you have a big bag of presents that both Jeongguk and Yoongi kindly left for you to haul all by yourself to Taehyung’s flat, and in the other, you balance a box across your arm, the corner sharp on your inner elbow.

“Cool. Your gift is under the tree,” Taehyung says.

“Oh, yeah. No, this is an early gift.”

“Just for me?” he asks.

You set down the box. “Well, you can share if you love us all a lot. But, it’s for you.”

Taehyung wastes no time in opening the box, a smile widening across his face as he reviews the contents. The box is stuffed full with cookies, baked big and crumbly for his tasty pleasures. They’re decorated too, because you love him so much and you know he liked them last year.

“Last year you ate nearly all of my batch, so I just decided to make you some of your own this year,” you tell him casually. It’s really no big deal, but Taehyung feels like he might actually cry because the thought is so sweet. You notice this, the glassiness of your eyes. “Ew, don’t cry.”

“I’m sorry, I’m touched!” he exclaims. Taehyung turns on his spot and wraps an arm around your neck, pulling you in for a hug. With your arms wrapped around his torso, Taehyung smiles with a thrilled sound and kisses the crown of your head. “Thanks, Y/N, you’re the best.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know.”

(09) sending texts when u randomly think abt them

[11:15AM] namjoon 👨🏼‍🚀: i stopped by at kyobo’s today and found a cards against humanity add on pack that was harry potter themed and i thought of u lol [11:15AM] namjoon 👨🏼‍🚀: i bought it for u btw 😊

(10) listening without judging

When the front door slams shut, you know that something’s wrong.

Having opted for sitting in the natural light of the living room to finish your lab report, the sound of the door echoes loudly throughout the empty house. It’s only you home, since Yoongi has volleyball practise until six this evening, which means it’s Jeongguk who’s home and apparently, not in a very good mood.

Jeongguk doesn’t realise you’re in the living room until he enters it, stopping suddenly in the doorway when he sees you cross-legged on the carpet near the coffee table. His eyes are red and swollen, his nose shiny from where he’s been crying and sniffling. The sight makes your stomach churn with an indescribable feeling, and you immediately rise to your feet.

“Jeongguk? What’s wrong- did something happen?” you ask him, not stepping forward until you know he’s okay.

Jeongguk’s sensitive, the baby of the friendship group, and sometimes you forget to go easy on him. He sighs loudly and drops his backpack to the floor with a thud. His books curl inside loudly and he drags his feet across the floor to get to the couch. He moves as if he’s going to sit down and then stops, turning to you. His bottom lip curls like he’s about to cry, and then he opens his arms for a hug. You immediately move forward.

“Oh, Jeonggukkie,” you coo, stroking his hair and moving to sit on the sofa. Jeongguk comes down with you and you rest his head on top of your breasts, granting him this once in a lifetime opportunity and he doesn’t even register it. He just cries, loudly and comfortably, his arms around you as he sobs. “Oh, my baby. What happened?”

Jeongguk hiccups. “Do-Doesn’t matter. It’s dumb.”

“No, it’s not. Something hurt your feelings, and your feelings aren’t dumb,” you tell him seriously. Stroking the hair out of his face, you peer down at him. “Come on. Tell me, I won’t judge or tell anybody else. You can trust me.”

He sniffs loudly, but you don’t cringe. He blinks, tears falling and he embarrassingly wipes the tears away, nodding. “Okay.” And then the words come out like vomit.

“I just. You know how I liked Sooyoung, right? Well, we were talking- everyone knows we were, but still, we were talking, and I just really liked her and wanted her to like me. I did all this stuff for her, planned all these dates and got her flowers. I thought she liked flowers, girls like flowers. I know we joke that you’re one of the guys, but even you liked those flowers I got for you. So, I got her this pretty necklace with an S on it and was going to give it to her and so I went to her practise room. She does dance, you knew she does dance, right? Yeah. And so I went to the room and was in the room talking to her when the door opens and this guy comes in and he comes up to her and they kiss and I just. She. She told me she didn’t want to rush into dating and that she liked me, and then she suddenly started dating someone else and I’m just really hurt and confused. Did I do something wrong? Am I ugly? Am I annoying, I just...I don’t know what I did. I really liked her.”

You don’t say anything as he talks. You just listen intently, nodding against his head with a low hum and stroking his hair gently.

“I know it’s silly and stupid that I’m crying over a girl, it’s just…” He sighs. “It hurts.”

You sigh, too. “It’s not silly and stupid. What Sooyoung did was really shitty and it’s natural that it hurt your feelings. You did absolutely nothing wrong, though. The flowers were pretty, and you didn’t force her into anything, and you were so kind and patient. Any girl would be lucky enough to have you as a boyfriend. Sooyoung missed out! You’re so good, Jeongguk, one of the best guys I know. And you’re not ugly! That’s an insult to actual ugly people! If you’re ugly, then what are we?” He laughs shyly and you smile, “Huh? What are we?”

“Okay, sorry,” Jeongguk laughs, pressing his cheek into your torso with a wide smile. His hands loop together behind your back, meek and timid, and he sighs, this time less sadly. “Maybe I’m destined to be alone forever…”

“You’re being dramatic, now,” you sigh. “The right person is waiting for you. Just give it some time.”

Jeongguk thinks about that for a moment. “Wanna date me if I end up alone and single aged thirty?”

Loudly, you let out a laugh. “Yeah right. You know what, fine. Even though I know you won’t be, if we’re both single by thirty, I’ll marry you. How about that?”

Jeongguk hums. “Cool. Is it safe to have kids after thirty?”

You let out a wheeze, taken aback by Jeongguk’s question. “Woah there. I said I’d marry you, not birth your children! Besides, you’re acting like thirty is ancient! Lots of women have kids aged thirty.”

“Okay, sorry, I didn’t know! My Mom was only young.”

“I can’t believe you just asked me to have kids with you when we’re thirty…”

“Might as well make our marriage interesting,” Jeongguk shrugs.

You quite literally have nothing to say to that.

(11) making someone laugh so hard that their whole body shakes

“Ow- stop! I’m going to pee!”

You don’t think you’ve seen Seokjin laugh at a joke that’s not his own in quite some time. Tonight, across the table in the retro diner that’s been converted and opened in town, he has surprised you. The entire booth shakes with laughter, from all sides and directions. Seokjin leans up against the window, clutching his side with Jimin, Mina and Yoongi all stuffed next to him on the skinny one seater. Next to you, on either side, is Hoseok and Taehyung, with Jeongguk and Namjoon at the counter ordering more drinks.

“What?” you ask, laughing. You’re not laughing because it’s funny, but more so because you have no idea what it is you did to make him laugh so hard. “What did I say?”

Seokjin can hardly get his words out, choking halfway on air and having to reach for his drink which shakes in his hand. He sips and gasps for air: “Just-your...face!” Then he cracks up again, like it’s the literal joke of the century. You just don’t get it.

“What did I do?” you ask. “What’s so funny?”

Seokjin can’t breathe.

“Oh my God,” Yoongi comments, smiling with disbelief and covering his mouth as he laughs. Mina’s french fries are stone cold as she laughs and leans into Yoongi’s side for support.

“Fuck. Y/N, you’re so funny, I love you so much,” Seokjin cries. Cries, literally; there are tears pooling out of his eyes, and he wipes them, sighing loudly as he laughs a few more times.

You’re going to take the compliment happily, and move on. To this day, you never found out what was so funny…

(12) hanging out in furniture stores and testing every couch there is

“Take a picture of me so we can pretend this is our house for Instagram.”

You sigh, taking out your phone and snapping a photo of Taehyung, lounging his legs apart across a lime green sofa that looks like it’s been hauled out of a 70’s magazine. One of the best things about Taehyung is that he’s easy to please, eccentric and adventurous just like you. Taehyung could be taken to a junkyard for a first date and somehow he’d still find it fun. He didn’t watch Bottletop Bill and his best friend Corky and leave not taking some inspiration on what to do with scrap junk.

It slowly became a tradition to go to the weirdest places with Taehyung as your date. On weekends or free weekdays you shared, you’d text Taehyung and get him to come with you to somewhere new. On today’s list, IKEA. It’s not totally crazy, or weird or wacky, just something you don’t think you’d do with Yoongi for fun. Taehyung loved the idea.

Taehyung’s making it a mission to sit on every bit of furniture he can find. As he takes a ride up the elevator to the first and main starting point of IKEA, he immediately notices the display couches and stares at you excitedly: “Let’s pretend we’re about to buy our dream house and test all the couches.”

Your eyes light up. “Yes! We can pretend we’re on a TV show reviewing them.”

You don’t think you’ve ever seen Taehyung more excited. “Oh my God, yes!” Then he grabs your hand, tugging you towards a cream themed living display. “Let’s go, wifey! Time to review.”

(You very nearly leave IKEA with a bright red sofa that looks like it’s been handmade and the bottom pillows are patterned with tiny cherries. Sadly, you’re both broke and you don’t have a car to take it home.)

((Taehyung’s devastated.))

(13) deep conversations when it's deep in the night

Sometimes, Yoongi stays awake until the early hours in the living room and kitchen. On days where you can’t sleep, you can hear him pacing around, softly grunting as he walks, something he does without really realising and something you love about him. On occasion, you join him. Like tonight, for example.

Yoongi’s curled up on the kitchen counter when you wake up and leave your room to find him. He sits with his back up against the cupboards, the kitchen window open with a cigarette out the window. Catching your gaze wide-eyed, he moves as if he’s going to put the cigarette out but you stop him.

“I told Jeongguk I’d stop,” Yoongi explains. Inside, he’s just grateful you’re not Jeongguk tonight. The cigarette lets off steam. He doesn’t smoke as often as he used to, just when he needs to. Yoongi looks away from the window as you pick yourself up to sit on the cupboards parallel to him. A bottle of wine is out, and you quietly take off the top and take a large swig.

“You don’t have to explain anything to me,” you tell him honestly. “It’s okay. I won’t tell Jeongguk, too. There’s a new air freshener in the cupboard under the sink. Use that when you’re done.”

Yoongi nods. “Yeah. Thanks, Y/N.”

“Why’d you go back to smoking anyway? Didn’t you tell Jeongguk that you were stopping because you didn’t want to die, or something?” It’s a joke, Yoongi snorts in reply.

“You know how he feels about it. I do too, and I guess I just felt bad about it. It was bad enough for him growing up and at home, and he told me about his brothers asthma attacks because of it and how he almost died, and how his parents smoked religiously and it made them act a certain way.” Yoongi sucks in his breath, like he’s realising what lighting the cigarette means. “It’s not weed. Not what his parents did, but. Still, fuck.” He decides to put it out.

For a while, you don’t say anything to Yoongi. Staring at him is telling enough, and you watch as Yoongi regrets what he’s done so much that he pales, his eyes watering.

“I don’t want to let him down,” Yoongi admits truthfully. “He’s like my little brother. I don’t wanna hurt him, fuck.”

He rocks his head back, sighing into the night. Down below the window, over the small little cliffside that he can see from his window that looks down onto the freeway behind the flat, he watches the lines of traffic whiz by, like long white lights, the honks like ASMR in his ears.

“If you’re going back to bed, can you go in my room and take the rest of my cigs out? Don’t wanna feel tempted by them. Toss them out or something, will you?”

You nod immediately, taking another drink of wine. This gulp stings. “Course. Yeah, I’m gonna go now actually.” You hop down off the counter, handing the bottle and placing it next to Yoongi. “Don’t stay up too late, mkay?”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

You shrug in reply, Yoongi frowns. As you walk towards the doorway that separates the kitchen and the hall, you turn around and look back at Yoongi, calling his name. Yoongi looks over and raises his eyebrows expectantly.

“Love you,” you tell him. A smile follows, and Yoongi blinks tiredly.

“I love you too. Goodnight, Y/N.”

He watches as you disappear into the darkness of the hallway and then faces the nighttime again. The smell of cigarettes lingers, and his stomach churns. Yoongi reaches for the air freshener you mentioned and sprays it generously, sniffing and then turning off the lights to the kitchen. Jeongguk will wake up and complain about the window being open, and might even notice the ash on the windowsill, but, like you, he still loves his big brother regardless.

(14) holding hands while jaywalking so that u Both get hit by a car

“Now!”

A squeal leaves your mouth as Jeongguk grabs a hold of your hand and literally pulls you across the road. A car that speeds down the road presses the horn loud enough to turn a few heads and Jeongguk grins boyishly, raising his hand as if to say sorry even though you’re far enough away to not get hit. Jeongguk’s motto for jaywalking is We Hold Hands, Because We Go Together Or We Don’t Go Down At All, or something. You know he stole half of it from an All Time Low song, but it works, and the song slaps.

From across the road, on the side you and Jeongguk are running towards, Hoseok gapes at the both of you and his eyes bulge out of his head.

“You two have a death wish!” he yells.

“But we lived, bitch!” Jeongguk replies, raising a gang sign to which Hoseok pulls a face at.

“I literally cannot stand you,” Hoseok seethes, walking away even though he’s supposed to be going out for dinner with the both of you. You and Jeongguk share a look that ends in a burst of giggles and run after Hoseok, capturing each of his arms with your own. He complains all the way to the restaurant, even though he loves it.

(15) randomly buying a flower for someone

“Delivery.”

Namjoon’s voice lifts your head. He stands behind the reception desk of your flat complex with a small bunch of flowers in his left hand. If he didn’t already know that you were working your two hour shift today, then he’s lucky he caught you. The sight of a bouquet of wildflowers makes your heart soar curiously.

“For someone special?” you wonder. Maybe he’s delivering to someone in the complex. Namjoon’s a sweetie like that.

Namjoon blinks. “Yeah. You.” He holds the bouquet outwards, with a bright smile. “They were for sale outside as I got off my subway. Thought of you, again. Happy early birthday.”

“My birthday’s in, like, seven months,” you say.

“That’s why it’s for your early birthday,” Namjoon replies.

You don’t know what to say. “They’re so pretty, thank you. Hey - can you go up to my flat and put them in a vase? I’ve still got an hour here, they might dry out if they’re kept down here.”

Namjoon nods instantly. “Sure. Gimme your key?” You slide the key across the desk towards Namjoon and he takes it swiftly. “Cool. Glad you like them. Enjoy your shift, Y/N.”

“Unlikely,” you groan. “Thanks, Joonie!”

He smiles as he reaches the door, sticking his tongue out to you as he prepares to climb the stairs. That elevator needs fixing urgently, and all you can think about is how much you love your friends.

(16) letting ur friends taste ur food and also tasting theirs to the point where u basically ate a fair amount off of each plate on the table

“What do you mean you’ve never tried a steak before?” Yoongi sighs so loudly that it turns a few heads. “Okay. Take a bite, it’s called charity and I’m generous. Come on.”

Yoongi even cuts you a slice and leans over the table to let you taste it. Beside you, Namjoon cringes when you close your teeth around the fork and pull the steak off, taking several bites and widening your eyes with wonder a Yoongi. You have just unlocked a taste sensation!

“Like it?” Yoongi asks.

“Mhm! It’s so easy to eat,” you observe. You look at Namjoon, “try his.”

Yoongi sighs. He willingly shares his food out. You glance down at your own meal, a pretty pasta dish that Jeongguk looks at from next to Yoongi.

“What is that? It looks good,” Jeongguk asks.

“Spaghetti Al Pomodoro,” you quote from the menu. Jeongguk laughs, because who goes to a restaurant and orders spaghetti? “Stop, I don’t know the menu, I played it safe!”

“Lemme try,” Jeongguk invites himself to try the taste, twirling his fork around the pasta and sucking it up like a scene in Lady and the Tramp. This sets off a sequence around the table, something you can’t help but snigger at. Namjoon lets you try some of his curry and Yoongi tries Jeongguk’s burger. By the time everybody on the table has tried everybody elses meals, you finally look back at your plate and notice that literally half of the meal’s now gone. Yoongi has about one bite of steak left, and Jeongguk could easily finish his burger in one bite.

“I hope everyone enjoyed my meal,” Yoongi says sarcastically, and he angrily chews his last piece of steak.

Namjoon looks up with a bright smile. “Yeah I did. Thanks!”

(17) "give me that I'll carry it for u"

Sometimes, Hoseok stops by at the reception to help out, especially during finals or midterms when you could really use those two years of monitoring an empty email inbox to study. Today, one of the newer residents, Somi, is on the desk and is playing Club Penguin on the computer, and you’re shoved into the back storage room with Hoseok, filing everybody’s mail and parcels.

It’s so messy in here, and looks like it hasn’t had a good clean out since it was first built, which might sound ridiculous, but have you seen all of this dust?

“Can you guys take out the trash?” One of the other workers, Siwon, pokes his head into the back room.

“You only just asked us to do this, though,” Hoseok points out with his hands on his hips.

Siwon shrugs, “Okay. And? Get to work.”

He turns and leaves as Hoseok gives him the middle finger, groaning as he arches his back to relieve pain that’s developed from being hunched over for too long. The trash bags are enormous and bulky with weight, shoved into a single room that absolutely honks. Hoseok grimaces as he opens the door and drags some bags out, deliberately ignoring a suspicious juice leaving a trail behind one of the ones he’s just brought into the back room.

“That literally stinks,” you complain.

“Yep.”

While Hoseok continues to haul bags out of the trash room, you take it upon yourself to drag the bags out to the back, towards the giant tip that’s collected by the bin-men the following day. After two or three trips, Hoseok steps out of the room and notices you struggling to pick a big bag up off the floor over your shoulder, like Santa’s sack.

“Give me that, I’ll carry it for you,” Hoseok offers, already stepping forward.

“No!” you protest stubbornly. “I’ve got this.”

“You’re so full of bullshit,” Hoseok howls. He ignores you and snatches the bag out of your hands. You’ll never admit it, but it feels good to not have the twisty material burning your fingers. “Sit down. You’ve worked hard.”

“Don’t patronise me,” you scold.

He giggles, “sorry. You’re too cute. Keep filling in those forms, kill two birds with one stone?”

You wait until Hoseok’s out of the room to cradle your fingers. Fucking hell, that hurts.

(18) helping ur friend decide what to wear while also reminding them that they look amazing no matter what

“You’re not going to the Met Gala, Jimin. Just wear jeans, my dude.”

“No. No, no, ignore him.” You throw a glare in Jeongguk’s direction and shift on your stomach, watching Jimin frantically search through his wardrobe. “This is important. This is serious. He’s going to see a potential employer, Jeongguk.”

“Yeah,” Jimin taunts, “so go be jobless and broke somewhere else.”

Jeongguk snorts, “I have a job, though…”

“Okay, get out of my room. Y/N, help me.”

“You looked good in the last four outfits,” you say to him honestly. “What’s wrong with this one, hm?”

You stand up, moving to one of the outfits laid out on the floor. It’s a pretty combination of clothes; a patterned white shirt that’s both formal and casual, with black trousers and brown shoes.

“I don’t like the shoes,” Jimin mumbles, continuing to search.

“Okay...Why don’t we just…” You crouch, moving a pair of black shoes from outfit number three to outfit number two. Now the shoes are black, and the outfit looks great. “Do that? What do you think?”

Jimin looks down at it, biting his bottom lip. “Is it good?”

“Yeah, totally,” you nod with enthusiasm. “It shows your personality whilst also remaining professional. And you looked super handsome in it.” Jimin faces you with a shy smile, “Trust me. It’s the one.”

It takes some reluctance and convincing, but Jimin eventually settles on outfit number two. All it took was some convincing and abuse of his praise kink.

(And he got the job.)

(19) being involved in every bad hair decision (dyeing ur friend's hair grey in between playing with their switch)

Three games into Mario Kart, you realise that you urgently need to email Nintendo and play I’m-Karen-Let-Me-See-The-Manager. Nintendo Switches are so dangerously addictive that Seokjin has you watching him play as grey hair dye bleaches his scalp. You can’t help but watch as he wins race after race, a streak of ten to beat tonight with King Boo as his racer every damn time.

“Fuck, your hair!” You must have said that so many times that Seokjin’s bound to get sick of it. He glances up at his reflection and eyes the sight on his head.

“Looks fine,” he shrugs.

“Let me remind you that it looks fine because the colour’s okay at the front. It looks kinda...patchy at the back.” You reach for the dye, “We’re low. Seokjin, we’re in trouble.”

He shrugs again. “Whatever. We can make a new trend.”

“Hell no. If it looks shit, I’m paying for you to get it done professionally ...which, you should have just done in the first place. I'm not a hairdresser!”

“And thank fuck for that!” Jimin steps into the living room and laughs nervously. “That looks hideous!”

This time, Seokjin’s eyes raise icily.

“It’s not that bad…” you mutter. “It’s okay. I’ll fix it.”

“The only way to save your hair is to just sacrifice it all,” Jimin sighs. “You know what, I’ve got a razor in my cupboard, let’s bring forward bald Seokjin.”

“I’ll take the patchy scalp,” Seokjin threatens.

“It’s really not that bad,” you pout quietly, attempting to fix the mess at the back of his head.

Okay - you’re lying. It’s awful. It’s a total disaster. But when Seokjin gets a good look at it, and he does take a good long look, he just shrugs and puts down the mirror.

“It’s a trend,” he decides. Mario Kart resumes and you’re rendered absolutely speechless.

(20) paying attention

When forced into a group of friends outside of your own, you always had a tendency to stand out in the worst ways possible. It’s not as if you stood out for being different, or funny or pretty. No; outside of your close circle of friends, you were the obvious outsider. You stuck out like an imposter, like a red flower amongst white ones.

This get together hosted by one of Jeongguk’s other friends, Joshua, takes place in his crazy expensive lake house in the countryside, owned by his parents and left to him when he turned eighteen. It’s remarkable that you got invited, to be honest. But, when Jeongguk’s your best friend, you get vouched for, granted permission to stay for the weekend in the one of many rooms, with the exception of sharing a room with two other guys. Jeongguk doesn’t mind sharing a bed for the weekend with Jimin, as long as you’re comfortable in your own.

And you’re not blind - it’s not hard to figure out why a big group of girls who had managed invitations were clinging to your circle of friends. You had lucked out in a way that ensured your entire group were visuals, everybody stunning in their own unique way. Joshua and his friends are here too, obviously, but their eyes are only on a certain segment of the group. From this angle, one of the girls who made her way over to the sofas sits with her back in your general direction, and it sort of feels like primary school all over again where you were the odd one out.

You try not to let it bother you, though. As the guys play polite and laugh when needed and talk casually, something slips up in conversation: “Well, actually-” One of the girls is talking, blinking repetitively in Namjoon’s direction with a sweet smile, “I think I have more guy friends than girls. Girls are so hard to talk to sometimes.”

“Right?” one of the others says with a sigh. “I wish I had more male friends. I want to move in with some in the future.”

You inhale. This is a good conversation to jump into. “Same,” you say. The girl in front of you turns around slightly, perhaps only just remembering that you were there in the first place. “I’ve been friends with these guys forever now, and living with them is so…” You notice after a short ramble that the girls turned back around, and she’s not even listening. You trail off, looking bored, “who am I even talking to?”

But from across the coffee table on the other couch, Yoongi furrows his brows and sets his glass down. “Y/N’s right,” he announces, and you look up at the same time as the other girls. Like they’re confused, they look at the group and then back at you, as if wondering the connection. “You know, guys are always told being friends with girls is impossible, but Y/N’s the glue that keeps us together.”

Jeongguk nods, “Mhm, exactly! You know, they said that it would be hard being friends with girls because you’d catch feelings, but Y/N’s so repulsive that it’s not even that hard...”

You glare at him, “Ha-ha. Very funny.”

“Trust me,” Chaeyoung pops up, having been sat silently in between Taehyung and Mark for the past twenty six minutes, “it’s not all that.” The girls look at her, “Men are disgusting. I don’t know how Y/N does it. These guys are the repulsive ones...I was in their flat for five minutes and I think I caught three diseases.”

“Hey, don’t drag my apartment into this,” you pout. Yoongi shakes his head with a smile and watches you, happy that the frown that was once on your features had disappeared into a smile. Hey, in a weird way, this was a good conversation to jump into!

The girls around you share glances, as though they’ve just clocked on to how important you are to these guys and how ignoring you won’t make them like them more, and eventually, you’re included in the conversation. You make a mental reminder to thank the fuck out of Yoongi for paying attention to you, even when you’re silently in the background.

(21) being aware and understanding of someone's financial situation ("dw I'll pay for u")

“We all need matching ones. Look, one each!”

Jeongguk excitedly crouches in front of one of the display cases, marvelling at the sight of tiny little charms on foam boxes, smiling up at you all. It makes you weak seeing how childlike Jeongguk actually is, how he gets excited over shiny things like a little magpie. Today is one of those rare afternoons where you’re all miraculously free, and it had been Namjoon’s idea to go out somewhere and hang out. Seoul is filled with beautiful and secret places to explore like a tourist and he takes up the opportunity.

This shop is dinky and in a weird place between an ice-cream shop and a fish market, probably scammy and has definitely seen better days. But Namjoon likes it, and Yoongi vouches for it because he’s been here before with Namjoon when they brought a watch for Jimin. Okay, yes, it was a designer watch, but it was way cheaper from this shop and, wait, who cares if it’s fake? Nobody noticed until now.

You stand behind Jeongguk, peering down at the charms. They’re all so cute and cartoon-like, each charm you view immediately reminding you of another friend. For Jeongguk, the rabbit. Taehyung could have the paintbrush or camera, Jimin definitely could have the apple because of the fact that his new favourite thing to say is An Apple A Day Keeps The Demons Away. It makes no sense, but he learns to roll with it.

“They’re cute,” Hoseok comments, smiling widely.

“They should be cute, for thirty dollars a charm!” you gape, pointing out the price. “I thought this was a shop that sold things cheaper?!”

“They’re usually around sixty,” Namjoon shrugs.

“For why?” you exclaim.

Nobody hears that, or if they do, they ignore it. With a sigh, you turn away from the case and start looking at something else. Thirty dollars for a small charm is insane, and you don’t have that kind of money. As Taehyung and Jeongguk start picking charms for everybody, your heart rate quickens.

How can you tell them that you don’t want a charm because you can’t afford a charm without disappointing them and sounding like you’re asking one of them to buy you one? In your panic, Seokjin worms his way up behind you and rests his arm up on your head like an arm-rest.

“Have you picked a charm?” he asks, and you look away instantly. “Hey,” he says, noticing that, “what’s up, buttercup?”

You sigh reluctantly. “I can’t afford to get one of those…”

Seokjin blinks and frowns slightly. “Oh. Well, that’s okay. I’ll pay for you.”

“No way!” you hiss at him, poking a finger into his chest. “Kim Seokjin, don’t you dare-!”

“Hey, I owe you, it’s cool,” Seokjin assures you.

“Owing me because I paid for your McDonalds is not the same as spending thirty dollars on a tiny charm.”

“They’re friendship charms,” he explains. “It’s symbolic for our friendship. Look, stay silent and pretty and let me get you something nice. Please?”

In this one instance, Seokjin doesn’t take no for an answer and invites himself into the small huddle of guys around the charms and picks one out for you. Seokjin picks you a love heart, because he knows that no matter what, there’s a love between the guys and you that nothing can pull apart.

(22) looking stupid in public together (dancing in stores to overplayed pop songs)

You hear it at the same time as Jeongguk.

One thing you don’t mind that much about Korea is that the sound of random K-POP groups follows you around everywhere you go. You actually kind of like it, because the songs are catchy enough and Jimin and Hoseok like it for the dances. But, my God, if you have to hear Momoland’s Bboom Bboom one more time, you might explode.

Over the hum of the refrigerators in the small GS25, where you and Jeongguk are examining the surprisingly large collection of flavoured milks, you hear those guitar strums and just as the horns roll in, you and Jeongguk share a glance and immediately do The Thing.

The Thing is recreating the entire dance routine to the song, which you had both decided to learn when you were bored and procrastinating during midterms. Everybody else in your friendship group deems it the single most embarrassing thing that you and Jeongguk do in public next to jaywalking, and maybe you can see why. The chorus rolls by and you’re both shimmying, pointing finger hearts to each other, and it’s rolling to an end when one of the cashiers turns the corner with a big tray of iced coffee in her arms.

She pauses and so do the both of you, in an intense stare off until she cowers and scurries to put down the tray and carefully shelf the drinks. Jeongguk looks at you with the urge to laugh and picks a random milk off the shelf, urging you out of the aisle to pay. When you’re outside and free from the judgement of the cashier, Jeongguk laughs on the floor for about five straight minutes.

(23) looking stupid in public together (singing loudly in ur car)

“JUST GO AHEAD AND HATE ON ME AND RUN YOUR MOUTH!”

“So everyone can hear!”

“HIT ME WITH THE WORST YOU GOT AND KNOCK ME DOWN!”

“Oh, baby, I don’t care.”

“KEEP IT UP AND SOON ENOUGH, YOU’LL FIGURE OUT!”

Both of your voices: “You wanna be, you wanna be, A LOSER LIKE ME!”

In the backseat, Yoongi shrinks further down until his bum is hanging off the chair, in the footwell where his knees are. “Please kill me.”

(24) hugging people when u say hi and goodbye to them

Hoseok is one of the best friends you could ever ask for. One, he’s friendly. Two, he’s funny. Three, he’s cute. Four, he hugs you when you arrive somewhere and again when you leave, and you absolutely love it.

“Y/N, hi!” His voice is the first to call out to you when you walk into the Open Day fair at your Uni. You look awful, overslept and still half asleep, but he comes towards you with a smile and engulfs you in a hug. “You look cute. Sleep well?”

That’s not to say the other guys don’t hug you, because they definitely do. But, Hoseok’s always the first.

(25) being there for someone even if u can't help them

“Go ahead. Laugh at me like everybody else.”

Jimin and Jeongguk are the ones who are unfortunately tasked with dealing with a tragically grieving Y/N. It’s unfortunate to you, but they don’t mind one bit. The last thing they expected to see when they came back to Jeongguk’s apartment to watch more episodes of Mindhunter on Jeongguk’s TV, was you curled up on the window seat with red eyes and a runny nose.

“Why would we laugh at you, baby?” Jeongguk asks, rubbing your back. He’s sat next to you and Jimin is by your feet, rubbing them and your legs with his soft hands.

You sniff uglily, but none of them say anything. “Cause. Cause it’s just a fish, I guess.”

“It was still your pet,” Jimin points out sadly. “Susan was a great fish.”

You sniff again, crying some more. “I just feel like a bad owner. Maybe the bowl wasn’t big enough, and maybe I didn’t feed her enough...I don’t want her to have died because of me.”

“Hey, now,” Jeongguk assures softly, “I’m sure she died peacefully. You were the best fish Mom ever. Susan’s in a better place now.” He glances over at Jimin nervously, “Like, fish heaven?”

For a moment you don’t say anything, and Jeongguk thinks maybe that was too much. But then you turn to him with a hopeful expression. “You really think so?”

“Yeah, of course,” Jeongguk replies.

“Susan’s still with you in your heart,” Jimin adds. He’s not too great at the comforting thing. “You were so good to her. If I was a fish, I’d want you to be my Mom.”

Jeongguk looks at Jimin with a deadpan face. Maybe that was too much, but you smiled, and that’s something to Jimin. Even if he doesn’t know what to do to help, the least he can do is be there for you.

(26) "this reminded me of u"

[03:15AM] namjoon: hehe [03:15AM] namjoon: this reminded me of u ^__^ [03:16AM] namjoon: [1 Image Attached]

[03:20AM] y/n: there r no words….

(27) allowing people to be human, with everything that this entails

University truly has been the best years of your life. There’ve been rough spots financially and mentally, but your key support system has been the circle of friends you’re proud to love and live with. Even when they’re a little bit chaotic, sometimes really annoying and loud and tiring, you still love them, and every quality that comes along with loving them.

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personally-im-feeling-pantastic · 4 years

Text

Rewatching Stargate Atlantis, Season 1 Episode 6: Childhood's End

I didn't realize that puddle jumpers could get turbulence

Well, I also don't know what causes turbulence so maybe it's an inescapable thing, and no ship (even one built by the Ancients) is unaffected

Yes! Ford! He's adorable, as is his giant crush on Sheppard

Next Up: man who started blaming people points out that "the blame game" is useless once he himself is being blamed

Thigh holsters! I never noticed that they had thigh holsters before

Ford, babe, what are you doing, McKay just said that none of the equipment is working, why do you think you'll be the exception?

McKay, stop being mean to Ford

Oh my God does this fourteen year old have a beard painted on his face

Look, I know that this is supposed to be a society of people 24 and under, but they would probably choose the older people (17 and up maybe) who can hold their weapons without trembling if this were real, and not 12 year olds

You're going to steal from kids? You're going to take what's probably the only thing that's keeping these kids from being killed by the wraith? Please, think before you speak.

Ok. Look, I know the Stargate looks like it's filled with water when it's in use but what the fuck do you mean these kids call it a well?

Sheppard, you're always lost

Ford's twenty five. I don't know why this is important but it is

McKay, you were mildly redeemed by defending Teyla last episode, don't undo that please

McKay does have a point

Oh my God why did they choose five year olds to keep an eye on the group???????? Like if you're going to be distrustful of them do it right!

McKay just made a five year old sad

Ok, that's smart, that they send their children to another village to keep the family lines apart

The look on Sheppard's face when he realizes that he's talking to a man who's going to kill himself in less than 12 hours, and that there's almost certainly nothing he can do to stop it, my heart

Fellas, a "forced sacrifice" is called murder

McKay just made one of the five year olds cry

And now he's about to start physically fighting the other one

If Ford hadn't stopped them, he probably would have defended himself by saying "he started it"

Look man, you're forty-ish years old and just because a five year old starts hitting you with his fists on your abdomen - which is protected by a bulletproof vest - does not mean that he's instigated a fight

Honestly, I try to give TV shows some leeway, but no one in their right mind would actually let McKay go on offworld missions - he's an egotistical asshole who believes that just because he's smarter than everyone he can be an asshole

Ok, Ford is giving the children chocolate for the first time

And McKay (now on his own) just found a glowy thing

And it's a ZPM

Please please please please don't suggest taking it from this planet, you all know damn well that it's the only thing keeping these kids alive

Oh my God you fucking dumbasses "what are the odds that [the wraith] are going to show up in the few hours it takes McKay to run those tests" bitch you already know that they use a shit ton of tracking devices everywhere, when those things suddenly start working again the fuck do you think is going to happen?

Oh really Sheppard, you can't tell these people that they're all committing suicide the second they turn twenty five for no reason until you run those tests on the ZPM? You mean you can't tell them until you find out if it's useful to you, because if it is, you'll take it, no matter what that means for them.

I'm constantly flitting between liking Elizabeth Weir and not, and I was very heavily disliking her after last episode, but she seems to be the only one other than Teyla who cares about what happens to these kids, so I guess I like her again?

What. The. Fuck.

Weir: Rodney, we can't just visit planets, take away their defenses, uproot their cultures, and bring them all back here to Atlantis.

McKay: If they have a ZPM, yes we can.

Fuck you McKay. Just fuck you.

Ok, so I was wrong before, the suicide pact is necessary. The ZPM and energy field is only strong enough to power an area big enough for the 12 villages on this planet, so if their population got much bigger, then they would be at danger

Okay, so it's not useful to you, so you're putting it back. Asshole.

The fuck you mean you may have broken it, McKay??

Ok, and more kids that can't hold weapons properly

Aww, the kids are back and McKay isn't making them cry this time

And he just bribed them with chocolate to go away

Surprise surprise, the wraith are here

Ok it's only a drone

Whoo, McKay saved the day, yay, time to go back

#stargate atlantis #Stargate #rodney mckay #john sheppard #elizabeth weir #sga rewatch #sga #lieutenant ford #teyla emmagan #suicide tw #tw ritual suicide #tw ritual murder

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idealisticrealism · 7 years

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Blindspot 3x04 recap

Aka ‘You probably should have just watched 3x03 again, Laura’

Okay, clearly I don’t do well with deadlines. Despite having 2 weeks to do it, I’m still doing this last minute, so it’s gonna be a fairly short one. Not to mention that this wasn’t exactly my favourite episode, so I may have fewer thoughts about it than others... but there’s definitely a few thoughts I do wanna share, so here goes.

At first I thought that little girl was Alice but then realised all the many reasons why that made no sense. Instead we get introduced to a bomber guy who is clearly gonna be relevant to the ep despite just seemingly blowing himself up...

Oooh Jane came out with the truth about Roman calling her. Nice, honey. I’m proud of your openness. I wonder if Weller noticed she was acting weird last night, since it’s morning now? Also dude she gave him yet another perfect opening to tell her about Berlin and he didn’t take it!!!! Literally no matter what happened in Berlin, his staying silent about it is bad enough in itself. Dude you are setting yourself up for a big fall here!

Naww I love that Zapata is always checking in on Patterson. Ugh, these sisters. And instead of forcing her to take a break, like all the others would have tried to do, she just asks how she can help. I just love these two. I love that Zapata helps her see things from a different angle and gives her a plan to follow. Poor Patterson is so determined to make it up to Stuart and she needs all the help she can get

God I love Hirst’s accent. But dude what is happening with this scene. How have she and Reade been on such close terms that they had a bet that involved potentially shaving her head?? That’s the kind of thing you agree on whilst drunk. Have these two gotten drunk together?? What is going on. Also she legit takes the ugly jumper thing and agrees to wear it to a meeting?? At work, at the FBI?? With executive people?? That just feels very unlikely. Also dude she basically just said ‘hey Reade if you’ve done any shady shit make sure it’s buried deep because we’re gonna have people looking into us’. Wow.

Anyway my lil genius has cracked a tatt, which relates to the bomber guy we just saw before. Lol the guy’s ex wife nailed him by recognising his handwriting and tipping off the cops. You go, girl. Now though Patterson’s smarts they’ve found a van in some particular car park in Brooklyn, and lol Weller’s doing the bombsquad thing for some unknown reason. All that’s in the van is a letter though-- to the bomber’s daughter, from the bomber. He’s not really dead. Dun dun dunnnnnnn (lol get it bc his last name is Dunn haha)

Oh boy we’re actually seeing the wedding video. I don’t know whether to roll my eyes or melt into a puddle, but tbh I’m a little more leaning towards the eye rolling. I like that Zapata and Reade are doing theirs together, because I imagine they were both like ‘you go first, no you go first, no you go I don’t know what to say’ so they just went in together. And lol ‘what do you even do in Colorado’ (right tho??) and ugh they’re so looking forward to being part of Jeller’s future and Reade even tells them he loves them (sidenote I like his earrings) and they say ‘don’t screw this up’ which kinda just hurts to hear because man did they screw it up real bad. Also Patterson ‘videobombing’ is the best lol. But I wanna know what happens in between the cuts! Where’s the director’s cut of this vid? haha

Lol Zapata giving Weller shit about the bombsquad thing (right tho????) and then also giving Jane shit, saying that she was surprised she didn’t squeeze into the suit and go with him. Ugh Zapata is so great this season already, can she just be like this forever? I’m still confused about Hirst’s ugly sweater sitch and why this is even being included. Is it to show her bond with Reade/the team? To show she’s a good sport?? Why Gero what are you trying to sayyy. Also they found the bomber’s daughter (who has had some trouble with the law herself) and they’re gonna bring her in to try find the bomber or whatever

Roman is looking dapper and heads into some fancy event as his new Tom persona. And then he meets Blake, the gorgeous hostess of the event, and who was also another former ‘LA Complex’ character-- fun fact she played the long-lost sister of Jonathan Patrick Moore’s character, so technically her and Roman’s siblings kind of dated. Ish. But ugh he’s being all cute and charming and weirdly Australian and she’s clearly liking it. She has such a great smile, it lights up her whole face. Aaaand the moment she walks away he’s off doing something sneaky, bc of course he is.

The bomber’s daughter is being recalcitrant, naturally. Goes with the territory. Weller and Reade are interrogating together which is nice, I like my good boys playing together. Glad to see Weller isn’t being such a butt. Anyway turns out her dad doesn’t drop the letters himself but has someone do it for him, and there’s an emergency signal for if she needs help. So they go to the park and they’re so cute all loitering about ‘undercover’. And I like that Jane can tell from across the park that Weller isn’t happy with the situation. Naww, so married. Based on Weller’s gut they all move out, looking for the drop guy. Of course it’s Jane that spots him-- and does he spot the daughter, or Jane?? I can’t tell which he’s looking at. She loses him momentarily and then next thing he’s got a gun on her-- only he recognises her, his tone surprised but not hostile when he says ‘Remi?’ So they knew each other in the Sandstorm days?? He’s definitely not pleased to see her working with the cops though…

Oh boy. Now Weller is on the wedding vid and okay it’s pretty damn cute. And ugh he said the thing about her being his starting point AND end point and ughhh how many of us included a line like that in our fics?? But ugh he loves her so muuuch and he’s so emotional and amazed and happy to be marrying her ugh

Okay after that brief interlude we’re back to the suspect guy. What has this guy been in? I recognise him. And he seems to actually like Remi/Jane, which is why I think she is able to get the jump on him. I always love Jane being a badass. I wanna know what happens right after this tho-- like does she radio/call the team and be like ‘hey guys come to the house across the street I’ve incapacitated our suspect’ and Weller is all like ‘are you okay?????’ while the Reade is hoping that she managed to do it without drawing attention or injuring him too badly, and Zapata’s just miffed bc she didn’t get to kick any butt lol. Back at the lab Patterson fills them in-- he’s a dude that’s wanted in like seven countries for “like, all of the crimes” hahahaha. I love the way she said that. Zapata’s kinda impressed with him since according to the CIA he’s the go-to guy for forged documents. Then Reade sends Jeller in to do the interrogation and tbh I’m kinda getting used to Reade giving the orders. It’s pretty much like hearing Weller’s voice come out of his mouth lol. And then aw their suspect is kinda sad that Jane doesn’t remember him, bc he was like an uncle to her? And then omg he says “that summer, in Kalispell, up on Flathead lake” and dude I was literally just there in July??? My friend has friends like an hour from Kalispell and we all went rafting together at Flathead. Yayyy Montana. I love when slightly more obscure places I’ve been get mentioned haha. Jane tries to get him back on track and he just keeps reminiscing. Clearly he knew them when they were pretty young-- he says he did her adoption, so however old they were when Shepherd took them in I guess? Sounds like he wasn’t a huge fan of Shepherd tho which I approve of haha. Too bad he won’t tell them anything about the bomber guy.

Again Patterson and Zapata are having one of their little vibing moments and they realise the suspect must have had a ‘go bag’ somewhere. And Zapata being the kickass FBI and CIA trained badass that she is, realises that it’s hidden in the seat of his car. Lol she even uses the CIA lingo. And then omg Patterson just whips out a butterfly knife from her pocket?? Lord that is so damn cool. I wish I could be cool like her and carry one of those around but alas carrying knives is illegal in my country. Ugh then they find his stuff and high five over it and I just love them so much

Hirst is arguing with some bigwig guy who wants to take away their suspect bc of his other crimes and ugh I could listen to her talk all day. I’m proud of her for saying ‘you all’ and not ‘y’all’ to him haha. Lol Weller tries to tell the dude he can’t take them and errrr Weller I think he’s a little above you on the foodchain, buddy. Anyway Patterson calls them into the lab-- they stuff they found includes a coded ‘black book’ of his transactions. I love that she calls Zapata ‘00Z’ haha. And then they figure out from the cypher thing that the bomber is in Ithaca, bc Patterson is a genius, of course

Uh oh. They’ve arrived at the place in Ithaca and the local fuzz are all over it instead of keeping the perimeter-- they apparently found a bomb which has also supposedly already been disarmed. Well that was quick. Also omg the guy calls Tasha darling and her face is all ‘bitch please’ and Weller shoots her a look like ‘please don’t kill him, please don’t kill him’ lol. And Reade puts a hand out to settle her lol. They get in and it’s a pretty basic bomb, then as the dudes go to lift it Weller realises it’s a decoy and yells for everyone to get out-- and good thing it’s a room with a lot of exits bc Weller and the main cop go through one, Zapata pushes another cop through another, and Reade and Jane go through another. Not sure about the last cop, but he’s probably fine bc ~magic~

Oh now it’s Jane’s turn for the vid. And omg she immediately makes a sex/dirtytalk joke??? Wow girl, you’re really opening up, aren’t you? But ugh she never thought she would have this and she’s so emotional about it and she’s like halfway through a sentence when Weller walks in?? And I know this should be adorable and all but I’m kinda mad about it? Like he already had his chance to share everything he felt without being interrupted, but now whatever she was gonna say is lost bc he felt that he was entitled to butt in?? And then she jokes that he thought she’d run away and he said he’d never let that happen bc he’d ‘never let her out of his sight’ which tbh I do not like??? Firstly it hurts bc she DOES leave, but also it feels kinda weird and possessive and like a ‘you will never be free of me’ kinda thing? Feels more stifling than romantic. But whatevs just gonna let that one slide right on past

Back at the bomb house, Weller is immediately searching for Jane, and belatedly remembering to check on everyone else haha. Zapata emerges, lookin kinda fine with all those soot stains, then a cop stumbles past and Reade stands up. Assuming the other cop who was saved by Zapata gets out fine, then that just leaves Jane. Who is unmoving on the floor, and ugh Weller’s voice gets all small and wobbly and he’s all ‘no, no’ and goddammit writers can you not? Then she miraculously regains consciousness under his touch and he cups her face in his hands as she tells him she’s okay and then he hugs her to his chest and nope I do not need this in my life please stop

Why do these guys all look so great covered in dirt and soot?? They’re back to the NYO with the news that their bomber guy has a bunch of bomb stuff (surprise!) and is likely planning an attack. They split up and Weller finds Jane in the locker room icing her bruised ribs, and he knows right away that it’s not the injury that’s bothering her-- it’s Roman. Nice hubby senses, Weller. Ooh interesting she says that she doesn't care about her past bc she finds nothing but pain in it, which makes me feel like this Rossi guy is going to reveal something big and kinda positive to her about her past. And then ugh she says that right now, them, is what she cares about and ughhhh why they gotta be so cute? Tho again I take issue with Weller-- this time with calling her perfect. Jane knows she’s not perfect, so why not say that he loves her as she is, imperfections and all? But whatevs. He promises her a lifetime full of perfect moments though and okay that’s pretty sweet with the heart eyes and the hand kissing and ugh he loves her so much and yet he’s STILL lying about Berlin and I haaaaate it

Oooh we’re back at Roman’s charity event. And ugh Blake is so cute and she’s a good auctioneer and she auctions off a little bracelet and she clearly knows the little girl who made it quite well, and cared about her particularly, I think? And her jokes are so sweet and I love that she gets them to start bidding and then bam here’s ‘Tom’ with a $20,000 bid and says that he ‘likes wishes’ so cutely and omg the way she’s looking at him rn is just so-- Oh no I ship it. Why do I ship this I mean it’s like a terrible idea but wow I do. Oh noooooooooo

Patterson called Zapata to the lab even though their tests re the bomber are still ‘marinating’, because she wants to talk to her about Operation Cuttlefish (aka their investigation into Stuart’s murder) and lol she tries to give a nerdy explanation of cuttlefish’s camouflage ability but Zapata is like ‘good lord just show me’ lol. Turns out a bunch of things have been meddled with and now they both wonder whether there could be another leak in their taskforce. Man, this office is leakier than a damn sieve….

What, Hirst even made a video entry? Really? Ok, I guess. I do love listening to her talk. And lol she says ‘y’all’ this time. Patterson again videobombs with shots and also to inform everyone that she met a guy named Jonathan Walker Blue and that they’re in love and I was literally about to make a comment about how that’s a weird name and that I wanted to hear more about this guy, when I suddenly realised that I’m an idiot and she was referring to Johnnie Walker Blue. The whiskey. Lord that went right over my head the first time haha. Then Hirst goes on to say that they’re an amazing team and even though they’re gonna have hard times, they’ll lean on each other. “To the good times and the bad, may love rule mightily over both” and lbr that’s totally gonna be a theme for the season (and the show as a whole) isn’t it

So they’ve discovered that the bomber is planning to bomb a university in the city within the next hour, and while they were about to waste a lot of time evacuating all the campuses, Patterson discovers that the colours on the materials that the bomber had on his workbench were the same as the colours for the metro university so he must have been making an ID badge for there, giving them their target. And lol Weller is giving all the orders and then is just like ‘okay you heard the boss’ (meaning Reade) and it’s like well I think we all know who is really running the show here…

Aaaaahhh Blake comes to deliver the bracelet personally to Tom bc she has the epic hots for him and omg THIS FLIRTING IS SO FREAKIN SMOOTH I CAN’T. And then she gets all earnest and is trying to ~understand~ him (because she liiiiiiiiiikes him) and ugh they move in closer and there’s more flirting and then he tells her about Tom’s backstory of fighting in Afghanistan and inheriting money from a friend who died and wanting to use it for a good cause and oh god she’s falling like a rock for him and I DIG IT. FOR STUPID MASOCHISTIC REASONS. Seriously gimme more of this, Gero. (Ship name: Take?? Blam?? lol). And then ugh he asks her how the wish bracelet works and then when she explains he ties it on HER wrist and tells her she deserves the wish more than he does and I’m????? So into this???? Which is ridiculous bc it’s all a total lie but damn it’s just so cute and she’s basically swooning and then she offers to buy him a drink and they joke about the open bar and ughhhhhhhhh why. Why must I want this. And then he says he can’t because (sadly) he has a plane to catch and ughhh I’m bummed about it. But then again, the old ‘leave em wanting more’ thing does have merit, so maybe we’ll see…. Oh aaaaand he’s tracking her with a GPS he planted in the bracelet bc the whole thing was a ruse. Of course. Dammit, Roman, why you gotta crush all my dreams

Back at the lab, Patterson realises that Roman gave them the clue to crack the bomber’s manifesto, because all the older manifestos use the same code. Also literally how was anyone meant to crack that code without that very random and specific picture?? But eh. So now they know that the bomb is under the medical building at the university and man that’s just mean. You know how hard it is to evacuate a hospital??? That crap takes forever. But anyway damn Zapata and Reade are looking like a really badass team rn. Zapata gets slammed into the wall by the bomber guy (rude) but Reade shoots him just before he can shoot her. Phew. Unfortunately now this means that Jane and Weller are disarming the bomb on their own….

Lol it’s finally time for drunk!Patterson to get to have her say on the video, and of course she mentions D&D. Apparently Jane is an elf paladin and Weller is a dwarf monk. What’s the bet that Ashley herself chose those characters? I kinda wanna look up their abilities and characteristics now. And ugh she just loves them and believes they can do anything and she’s just the sweetestttttt

And now Jeller have 80 seconds to disarm the bomb, which has an anti tamper device which requires them to work as a perfect team in order not to set it off haha. Symbolism, symbolism everywhere. Also lol Weller, saying ‘steady’ over and over doesn’t really help buddy. And then they pull each of their wires (as advised by Patterson, bc no one would get through anything without her) at the exact same time, staring at each other as the timer hits zero. Sidenote but anyone here used to watch Castle?? Can’t help but think of the scene in S3 where Caskett hold hands in front of the bomb and then Castle disarms it by yanking out all the wires. Anyway, different OTP, different time. Then Jane is giving Weller a look and tells him that disarming the bomb with him was kinda hot and he pulls her into his arms and lol they’re getting off on this and Patterson is like ‘Mom! Dad! Stop, I can hear you!’ hahaha. But they don’t care bc they’re already making out haha.

Ooooh the fancy schmancy dude from the other organisation is back to tell them that Rossi escaped from his custody, which they’re all pissed at him for, bc now they have to help fix his screw up. But I only care about Patterson not-very-subtly pulling Zapata away from the bullpen mouthing ‘CUTTLEFISH’ lol. And lolll Zapata's like ‘god I’m the only adult in this place’ haha. Patterson has discovered that the anonymous tip from their last case (the one from Karen about the train crash, I assume, not Rich’s sneaky fake tip lol) was wrongfully marked as low priority on the database-- so someone in the FBI is doing this tampering? Idk I don’t think I’m following along very well lol

Ugh I’m actually mad at Weller for fast forwarding through Patterson’s message on their wedding video??? Like clearly he’s watched it before (probably many times, whilst drunk, and always laughing bitterly at the part where he tells her he won’t let her out of his sight, and ouch I made myself sad) but Jane clearly hasn’t seen it since she asks how long it goes on for. And then they basically ignore the rest of what Patterson’s saying anyway in favour of having a little chit chat. Sigh so rude. It is cute though how Jane is teasing Weller about not ever saying lovely things like in the video. And dude clearly I am wired a little bit oddly but for the split second when he moved fast I almost thought he was going to hit her, which makes no sense at all and once that tiny fraction of a second passed I was like ‘aww he’s playing around with her and being cute and silly, how adorable’ and then I’m sure he was gonna say some more sweet things and then demand apology kisses, but instead suddenly there’s Roman on the screen. And mmmmmm isn’t it symbolic that the two of them, having been all tangled up in each other, suddenly separate when Roman appears?? I see what you did there, Gero. But okay I literally cannot get over Roman’s little decorating effort. Like I know this is supposed to be a grim moment but I am almost wheezing over his lil fairy lights and flowers and handwritten sign?? He could have just appeared in front of a blank wall but nope he is just that Extra. I love him. Not cool of him to tell Jane she’s broken and tell Weller that their relationship is built on lies, though. But omg he literally toasts them with what I assume is champagne and lol this is hilarious. Err, I mean, it’s terrible, sorry Jeller….

Oooh Zapata wants to hang with Reade for drinks but he tells her he’s already home-- only for her to see him a moment later with fancy schmancy dude from before, and immediately gets all suspicious. My head says we’re supposed to suspect there’s dirty dealings going on but my heart says ‘gay love affair’. Though lbr there could be some dirty dealings involved in that, too lol

A mysterious envelope has been slipped under the Jeller's door. And Jane, seasoned FBI consultant and ninja warrior, just goes right ahead and picks it up with her bare hands. Really? No thought for fingerprints or anthrax or anything? Fine, whatevs. But hold up, it’s from Rossi, about some secret that he thinks she deserves to know. Weller comes over just as she pulls out some birth records-- and BAM, turns out Rossi organised the adoption not of Remi and Roman, but of Remi’s daughter, 18 years ago. Ohhhhhhh boy. I feel like Gero is actually literally Oprah rn-- you get a daughter! And YOU get a daughter! Daughters for everybody!!!! And as legitimately terrible as this plot decision is, I hate it somewhat less given that Weller’s spawn also exists. I mean, at least instead of just one of them having a child outside the relationship, then now both do, which balances things out a bit? I literally can’t believe I even am in the situation of having to write that sentence but this is where we are now. This is what you did to me, Gero. Ugh.

Well. Interested to see tonight’s ep. Here’s some spoilers you might not have caught yet: Reade’s estranged twin, Duane, comes demanding that Reade donate him his kidney or he’ll die; Zapata falls into a brief coma after a rollerblading accident and awakens only able to speak German; Patterson turns out to be a chihuahua piloting a very convincing android; and Hirst admits that she is actually Canadian and not from the South at all, eh. Can’t wait!

#Blindspot #Blindspot recap #Jeller #*sighs eternally*#That Blam tho

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fart-gate · 4 years

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SGA

Season 3 episode 14

Notes by me

- Rodney centric!!!

- talking about his sister being afraid of the dark haha what a dork.........im just kidding I am also afraid of the dark

- man he is on EDGE. Why is he being extra bitchy right now

- oh fuck is he ok????

- john is here to check up on his boy 😊

- ....giantism, invisibility..."

"That'd be cool. I turned into a bug"

- "I'll keep an eye on him" ahhh protective!John

- hey come on ronon.....lay off the fat jokes man. Very rude

- oh ??? Super hearing????

- HE JUST MOVED THAT WITH HIS MIND OMGGGG

- hypoglycemia!

- oh shit its mutating him 😳

- lorne!!!! Havnt seen u in a while babe how r u

- sad we didnt get to see rodney jam the bad guys guns

- UM PUT CARSON DOWN. BAD RODNEY

- "me a super hero! Who wouldve thought!" Johns face I cant

- worried!John

- John is first in line for super powers and I would be too tbh

- ronon asking Rodney if he really wants to try to fight him is really hot oK leave me alone

- "more like fatman" RONON LEAVE HIM ALONE DAMMIT

- hes so excited about reading peoples minds lmaooo

- my god he talks so fast

- "can I shoot him now"

- *swearing in czech*

- Rodney in the chair. Honey your arrogance is showing again

- hes going to ascend whether he wants to or not???? Fuck

-panicked!Rodney

- radek is so pissed lol

- oh fuck no!!! Tell me hes fine. Pls dont kill radek

- HEALING POWERS!!!!! aaawww he saved his friend 😭😭😭😍😍😍

- on a scale of talking about your feelings to inventing a new math, how extreme are you when avoiding emotions? In other news, Rodney invented a new math!

- bruh he needs to talk to Daniel about this stuff. Daniel can tell him how to ascend and then he can just come back if he wants to

- he thinks nothing great can happen to him without there being bad consequences 😩😩😩

- yes!!!! U can come back human!! I just said that I'm so smart

- "mere mortals"

- John is helping him meditate? Shouldnt it be teyla

- um candles??? Are we sure this isnt a date 👀👀

- "think of anything that makes you anxious"

"OH god theres so many things"

- "I liked Ferris wheels" John you're so bad at this just get teyla to do it

- theyre just throwing shade at each other. No progress is being made here guys

- hyper drive for puddle jumpers??? 😃

- he doesnt think hes worthy does he

- dammit rodney!!! You didnt go thru 3 seasons of development for you to think u arent worthy to ascend !!!!

- she said to fix the things that HE knows need fixing and I feel like I know whats coming

- he looks so sick

- the radek talk 😟😟😟😟😩💓💞💕

- the tea ceremony???? That he knew how to do???? He specifically asked about her father oh my goooddd. And she would have done it alone which u arent supposed to do in her culture. He spent that time with her to mourn her father in a traditional way 😟

- hes doing last minute good things for the people he loves bc he thinks hes gonna die

- HE HEALED RONONS SCARS MY GOD THIS IS SO FUCKING AMAZING can u imagine the trauma ronon went thru and everytime he felt his back/saw himself in the mirror he was just constantly reminded of what he went thru. It took Rodney exactly 8 seconds to heal the physical manifestation of ronons trauma. Ronon never has to think about his scars again

- I'm sorry but 500 pages of Dr weir suggests that he started writing it BEFORE he was zapped

- oooo john is his last person to amend with.

- he wants him to write his eulogy 😭😭

- he wants his ashes spread in space?? I mean....theyre just gonna float there forever but ok

- oh fuck he faint

- "Carson....thank you" this is too much

- come on Rodney you can do it!!!! Just concentrate

- "know that we love you" HELLO?????

- "the way a friend feels about another friend!" gotta make sure nobody thinks I'm gay! 😤 Feelings for Rodney???? How dare you say that! 😠😠I would never, I'm not...!! 🚫That's neither here nor there🚫!!! 👫Frankly I resent you saying that! In fact how do I know YOU dont have feelings for rodney hmmm??? Check and mate.

- what!! All they needed to do was zap him again???

- Ronon carrying Rodney 😩😩😍😍😍

- "I'm still smart I think"

- "I'm hungry"

"Hes fine"

- ahhh ronon hug!!💘💘💞💞

- he thought about how bad his ego is and that catapulted him into ascension plain. I love it

- "and you love me" she's never gonna live that down. He will not stop talking about that ever. She has created a monster

- "you and I always had good chemistry which I put more detail about in chapter 10" she dug her own grave by telling him they all loved him. I mean......you cant blame him for bringing it up all the time 🤷

- the machine can turn you into goop?? Lets use it on John - Rodney is back to normal my dudes 😂

#stargate atlantis season 3 #i ran out of room in my notebook.....now i gotta use something else to take notes while i watch it #rodney impending death - rodney fear - worried team #whump

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theolivechickken · 5 years

Text

Game of Turons

May or may not be missing Filipino food at this point..

April 1

Quick day-trip to Mostar. It’s so beautiful here! We had a fresh little taste-tour of homemade and local cheeses paired with bread, paprika spread, and salami. We had the chance to try a bitter cherry drink (I thought it was pretty sweet and tasty) and also this syrupy cookie. Basically a lunch. We weren’t entirely hungry afterwards, so we grabbed a cone of gelato and sat out on the ruins of the original bridge (Stari Most) and watched as bridge jumpers collected money from tourists and took the plunge. Sugar mama Craven also needed to spend those marks, so she treated everyone to some fine souvenirs. We all got matching bracelets (yay friendship) and also got some matching copper earrings (sorry pat). I could finally see the appeal of shopping since I just had money to throw around and get rid of.

Holy hell it is hot out. A toasty 80-ish degrees. How am I going to survive when I come back home to So-Cal and Phoenix?? I used to think anything below 90 degrees was cold and now I’m perfectly warm and comfortable in 45-50 degree weather. We had an afternoon tour to learn about the history of Mostar and visit a mosque and Kajtaz house. We were also able to climb the museum tower next to Stari Most and talk to a local who had been living in Mostar at the time of the wars and helped to rebuild the new bridge despite the fact that he was held captive in the war, used as a human shield, and lost some mobility in his left arm. He was very friendly and open about his experiences.

Uno ruins friendships. We played an almost endless 2 hour game on the bus ride to Dubrovnik and the only reason we stopped (besides the fact that we were already over the game) was because the sun was going down and we couldn’t tell yellow from green anymore.

April 2

Game of thrones who?? Yeah so I still have yet to finish the show. Please no spoilers and I’m sorry that I might not be able to fully understand the settings here that were used in the show. BUT I WILL SOMEDAY.

I’m in love with Dubrovnik. I love the ocean and the sea. Basically any body of natural water. I love the fresh air and the warm sun and the salty breeze. I love the orange rooftops and the FREAKING castle in the middle of town. I love the cliffsides that are inviting us to dive into the freezing cold water.

I got wet. We went down to the rocky cliffs and I wanted to get close enough to dip my toes into the water. Welp, I did. But then the waves were excited to see me too and just whipped my legs, soaking my pants from the knees down. No worries though. There’s still enough time in the day to lie out on the rocks and let them air dry. And that’s what I did.

Please sir let me go kayaking. We still had time to kill and figured why not? It was such a challenge to figure out how to get down from the castle and streets level to the pebble beach area. We finally got down and the guy was like please don’t, I’m trying to close up shop for the day. It was 3:30pm. There’s still plenty of “day” but I guess he’s the boss of his own hours. We sat on the little pier overlooking the water and watched as the last few kayakers paddled back to shore and turned in their gear. We also saw Patrick at the top of the tower across the water! He came down to meet us at our spot. We also saw a youngish teenage boy rowing this girl to shore. Hi can I steal your boat? It was super tiny and could barely fit the two of them in it, but I tried imagining how to fit all four of us into it. We observed as he spent the next 10 minutes helping the girl out of the boat and then rowing to his parking spot, securing his boat to the ropes, and then nimbly climbing out to the pier deck. He made everything look so easy and we enjoyed playing with the idea that we’d all fall in the water or get stranded 5 minutes into rowing.

We took the world’s slowest taxi back up to the hotel, but at least he was a safe (unless driving too slow is dangerous?) driver. We changed into our swimsuits, excited to spend time in the pool at the hotel. I think it was old people hour though? I hope we didn’t disturb them too much. Our plan was to hang out in the hot tub but the water was lukewarm?? We sat in somewhat cool water and had jets attacking our limbs from every angle. Not really a grand time but definitely an interesting one. At one point, we gathered hands and prayed to the jacuzzi gods for the 2 seconds of warmth that would happen when the jets would first start up. 100% worth it for those two seconds.

April 3

I like the long bus rides- they are comfortable and prime time for introspection (#feeling inspired). Today’s extended pitstop is in Zadar. Home of the beautiful sunsets, Monument to the Sun, and Sea Organ. In the early afternoon, Patrick, Raine, Aubree, and I walked to the grocery store to pick up supplies for nutella and banana sandwiches (since there was no jelly). We also met up with Kaya and Sara and joined them at McDonald’s for lunch (fun fact: their cola weirdly tasted like bubblegum??)

We had Sara’s sparknotes cool-aunt version of a tour, which ended with us soaking up the sun, watching the rough waves roll and crash, and listening to the wondrous and unique song of the sea organ. We took a snack break to bring back pizza to eat while watching the red-dot sun set behind the voluptuous blue-purple clouds. The sun honestly seemed to slip away so quickly. Live it in the moment, folks. Sometimes it’s not worth it for the instagram. It’s worth it to be present.

We’re addicted to crazy 8 at this point and itching to head back to the hotel to connect to the wifi and destroy friendships. But first, gelato. Since it was late in the evening, our guy piled scoops into our cones.

April 4

Took a lovely nature stroll through Plitvice Lakes National Park! So many waterfalls gracefully cascading down. Such a pretty sight and I could never get tired of it. I just took my time walking through the paths, and at one point Sara encouraged us to spend 10 minutes sitting by ourselves in the sounds of nature. Blissful.

We had lunch outside and tried to not get dust blown into our food or get blown away from the strong winds. We let our food digest as we took a ride on the world’s slowest boat. It didn’t even feel like we were moving- the ride was almost too smooth.

When we arrived at Hotel Park, SaVanna’s mom (and her mom’s best friend) came out and surprised her in the lobby. We all couldn’t help but feel a little butt-hurt because 1. we were all on our periods (maybe Patrick too) and just emotional wrecks in general and 2. we hadn’t seen any of our loved ones for MONTHS and she had received a lot of love via care packages and letters from friends/family, her boyfriend visited her for spring break, and now her mom was here to surprise her for the weekend. Super happy for her but salty that we got slapped in the face with it.

Anyways, hello Ljubljana! Weird full circle. It’s like a combination of everywhere that I’ve visited. It’s got hints of Salzburg/Vienna/Budapest with its architecture, Amsterdam (with its bikes), Berlin (with it’s energy). Feels hip and fun. Had beers, burgers, and bomb conversations for dinner. Such a great time hanging out with the squad along the river and laughing about some of our most embarrassing stories. Afterwards we went back to the hotel and passed ouuuuut (rip crazy 8, maybe we’ll catch ya next time).

April 5

Ljubljana walking tour with another lovely guide! He was such a warm and welcoming soul, and he was very excited to show us around even though it was a wet and stormy day. I had an umbrella, but I still managed to get wet. Nike? More like yikes. Tried to keep my shoes dry but then the puddles continued to rise and my feet were already wet so might as well just go all out and step in the puddles. At the end of the tour, we had a river cruise, which turned into a champagne (booze) cruise courtesy of Katharina showing up to surprise Sara on her birthday :)

Had the most amazing falafel wraps in my life. Went back to the hotel to rest for a bit. Raine took a nap, but I just relaxed in the comfort of my dry, warm bed and watched youtube videos for a few hours.

Later, we ventured back out for dinner (at the same place that we visited the night before) and ended up staying out with the rest of the crew since they were at the same restaurant as us :)

April 6

Goodbye Ljubljana! At least it’s not raining today. One last stop before we return home: Postojna Cave. This cave is HUGE. We had to ride a little tram into the walkable parts of the cave, and I swear it was a 15 minute ride in a little cart on train tracks. It was jerky and weirdly close to the walls and I felt like I was going to hit my head every 10 seconds. Also got carsick on the ride, so it wasn’t the best tour of my life. Still, the caves were pretty impressive. How can rocks look like paper sometimes?? Our tour guide also had fun surprising us and at one point she went to the generator and turned off the lights and it was PITCH black. I’ve been in darkness before, but nothing compares to those few seconds in complete blackness. Everyone was talking and trying to find each other (even as we were standing next to one another to begin with) and I still felt like I was the only one in the area and everyone else was so far away.

At the end of the tour, we walked into a little cave room area where our photographs were up for sale. So that’s what those people were doing when we entered the tram entrance! They were literally all up in our faces with their flash photography and I thought they were trying to capture some famous person behind me or trying to get a picture of my face to document every individual who enters in case there’s a tragic emergency and they need evidence of who went in and didn’t come out, but turns out they were just trying to catch us as off guard as possible for the worst photos in the world lol

Back on the road again = back in my sleepyhead dreamland

We said our final goodbyes to our lovely bus driver Benny (rip cause these goodbyes were so short too). I’m gonna miss that Mr. Bean soul.

Yay for being home before the sun goes down for once! And hello spring in Salzburg! So excited to be here while the weather gods kindly bless us.

#Salzburg Semester #Studying Abroad #balkans #Bosnia #Mostar #Croatia #Dubrovnik #Zadar #Plitvice Lakes #National Park #Slovenia #Ljubljana #Postojna Caves #Salzburg

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monofazz · 8 years

Text

Genocide Together: Ch5

HERE WE GO FOLKS! CHAPTER 5! HAHAHA!

(Edit: Oh yeah! I forgot! -adds mention- @rahafwabas yeeeeeehhhhh! I dids it! I’m still going with this thing! yays! XD)

Everyone in the bar could feel the uneasy air fill the room as soon as he came in. The skeleton made his usual joke as he always does when he pops in. But this time, nobody laughed. Sans didn’t seem to notice.

He sat at his usual spot and ordered, to everyone’s confusion, two bowls of fries. There was no one with him. When a nearby monster asked him why, Sans said he was expecting company.

Grillby was a bit busy with all the other customers, so the chips took a bit longer. The comedian made a few more jokes that no one laughed at.

Sans gulped down his ketchup and ate a few fries. After some long, long minutes, an armoured monster opened the door.

“Excuse me, guys, but, uh, something bad is happing, like, really bad, so we have to evacuate the citizens here. There’s a human, not a cool human, they’re hurting monsters. So we have to get you to safety now.” said RG-01.

The monsters looked at each other, muttering in curiosity and in fear. They got from their tables and walked hastily to the door. Grillby and Sans were the only ones who didn’t move.

“Uh, dudes? Didn’t you hear me? We have to evacuate the citizens and—“

“… I think I want to stay here, friend,” said Grillby.

“Uh, why? Don’t you want to, like, live, or something?” RG-01 asked, perplexed.

“I think I will be fine, friend. I hope you understand.”

“Uh. Um… ok then… um, good luck?”

“Goodbye.”

RG-01 left, a little bit awkward.

Sans didn’t move. Grillby tilted their flame head at the skeleton, moving to sit next to him, “Sans?”

Sans looked at him, “Do you have more ketchup?”

“No Sans, you drank the last bottle. Sorry.” Grillby looked away, “Why didn’t you go with them?”

“I could ask the same question, Grillbz… but I’m too lazy to ask.” The skeleton smiled.

“I have duties here.” He looked at him, flames flickering.

"Is this about your brother? Is this why you have to stay?”

Sans forced himself to nod. “Yeah, Papyrus would come back here and try to make friends with the human, and from the sounds of it, this human ain’t really friendly.”

Grillby nodded. “I see… One more thing Sans, is this for your brother? I thought your brother hated grease...”

“He does, but he’s not the company I said I was going to have…”

Grillby frowned, “Then who would this person be then, if not your brother?”

Sans smiled a little wider, “Someone who’s new to the underground. That’s all.”

It took a moment for the message to sink in but as soon as it did, Grillby backed away a bit, “Sans? I don’t understand. Are you saying you’re going to have eat with the person who’s been killing all those monsters?!”

Sans got off his chair and said, “Yup. Thought the kid would be hungry. Humans do tend to need to eat a lot; did you know that? So, uh. You better get out of here. I don’t think the human… or me… is gonna spare you out of everyone. You can stay here if you want, though, that’ll just mean I’ll get some free EXP.”

Grillby could not believe what Sans was saying.

“Sans…”

Sans said nothing.

“Sans this is not you,” Grillby said, making his way to his friend, “you know this isn’t. The Sans I know wouldn’t hurt anyone, not his friends, not innocent people, and definitely not family. I beg you. Snap out of it.”

Sans’ eyes bore into his, they were deep pools of black, endlessly going on and on in ink bowls of darkness, swirling and cold, until you can see the ominous dread of the abyss looking back at you.

“Well, I guess that Sans is dead now.” the skeleton said.

Before Grillby could do anything, he was being lifted up and, like a rag doll, thrown onto the wall, glasses smashed and shelves toppled. Grillby groaned in pain as the invisible force pulled him up again.

“I’m sorry Grillby, I really am. But I just don’t care about anything anymore.” Sans said quietly.

A loud smash of a window echoed out of the now empty streets and Grillby’s fire body, melting the ice around him into puddles of water. Loud hissing noises filled the air, it almost sounded like screaming. Sans exited the diner and watched the small spectacle. Steam rose and evaporated into the cold air of Snowden. Then, the charred body turning white, it crumbled away into nothing but specks of ash and small lumps of powder. Sans watched his friend die.

There was a loud gasp, and Sans snapped his head to the side. The streets of Snowden, apparently weren’t all empty. A monster stood there, it wore a striped jumper and resembled a young dragon without arms or wings. He backed away from the skeleton.

“Y-You…” he trembled and looked at him in a mix of horror and disbelief, then the monster ran away in the opposite direction, tripping over a few times, but frantically getting up and sprinting towards Waterfall. He disappeared. Sans did not bother to go after him.

Chara walked into the deserted town, they were low on health since the stupid long-necked dog decided to go into a frenzy and throw them halfway down a cliff in it’s excitement. Chara’s stomach growled, but still keeping the pie for safekeeping, they did not eat it. Instead, they stole some Cinnamon Bunnies from the store and other items of use. But they did not stack up on health.

Grumbling, they continued on, aware that Monster Kid wasn’t in his usual place. Odd. Interesting. New.

That’s when they noticed the broken glass and the pile of ash a few metres away from Grillby’s. And in them were dusty glasses. Grinning, they padded through the snow to see Sans at their usual seats. Sans noticed them coming in and waved them welcome. Chara smiled and ran to the plate of fries. God, this is going to be worth it.

“Took you a while, what kept you?”

“Decided to do some rock-climbing. One of those blasted dogs helped.” Chara chewed the lukewarm chips into mush and swallowed. Sans chuckled.

“Do you have any ketchup?”

“Nope. No more, I think.” Sans said.

“Bummer.” They shove more food up their mouth, “so, how far did you get? By LV, I mean. How much do you have?”

Sans blinked. To be honest, he hadn’t kept track. How many monsters had he killed? How much EXP did he have? How much LOVE? He wasn’t a 1HP monster anymore, that’s to be sure. How can he know? Of course, if he was asked to examine Chara’s LV. he can do that without even trying, which was convenient as he was quite the lazy guy. It was a part of his magic. But to know his own EXP or Level Of Violence, then….

“I dunno, kid. Can’t you check?”

Chara licked their fingers thoughtfully, “I suppose. Look at me, ya lackadaisical skeleton.”

Sans did, smiling that smile they oh so missed.

“Where did you learn that nonsense word?” Sans asked.

“From Papyrus.” They did the check.

*Sans.

*Check.

*HP-20 Attack-10 Def-1 LV5.

* Easiest enemy? You know better.

*Still dodges. You changed him, but if it’s for better or for worse, you do not know.

*Still a pun-loving skeleton.

“Level 5, very nice Sans” Chara was impressed.

Sans raised his non-existent eyebrows and looked at the child gently, “Huh.”

“I just got to 6. Usually by now I’m at level 8 or something. If were gonna do this thing, we have to do things differently. Were sharing this experience together but for my Genocide route, there’s only enough EXP to get to Level 19… that excludes you Sans.” They said, looking at the skeleton, whose face was neutral and impossible to read, but Chara was very sure he was listening very carefully.

“We need to reach the highest point possible to take on our future goal. So that means we’ll get around 10 or 11 at best if we don’t do something. Which takes me to my idea.”

Sans face did not change, “Really? So what do you plan to do?”

“I know that you sometimes worked with Alphys. So do you think you can disable the force fields in Hotland? I’m pretty sure that’s where the people are evacuated. If we get to them—” Chara snaps her fingers. “— then we’ll have enough.” Chara grinned.

“What about Alph? She’s gonna know if I mess with anything.” Sans asked, but he already knew what had to be done.

“Well, we kill her, don’t we?” Chara said, putting their empty plate on the bench.

“I guess so,” Sans admits.

A few moments of silence before Sans got off his seat and walking towards the door, Chara trailing behind them, “Where are you going?” they said, frowning. No ‘see ya’s? And what’s that weird glow in his chest? Was that his soul?

Sans gave a small glance to the child, eyes blank, “I, uh, gotta get something out of the way, alright? I’ll see you in a bit.”

He then walks away.

Chara looked curiously at the skeleton for a moment as he left Grillby’s, then with a dark little smile, they gave a small little distorted laugh.

“SANS?!” Papyrus called out, “Brother! Where are you?!”

Papyrus was downright worried now. Where could Sans be? He needed to find him. He had just been with Undyne and he was informed that a human had started eradicating the monster population. Undyne had told them to not confront the human and that was an order. But why? He was sure he could change their ways; he was the Great Papyrus after all!

But seeing the Snowden residents being moved to Hotlands and not seeing Sans in the crowd or even having him by his side had brought concerns. He hadn’t seen him since earlier today. Could he have gotten lost? Could he be at their house in his room, taking a nap? Could he have confronted the human?

…

Papyrus tried not to think of that. He hadn’t consulted with the human yet, so if his brother did… It will be my fault.

But he knew that his brother knew better. He will stay out of the way if there is danger. This fact filled him as he continued to look for him.

“SANS!” Papyrus called for the 20th time.

A small figure emerged through the fog. Papyrus new the thing immediately, “Sans! There you are!”

“Papyrus…”

“I was so worried! I didn’t know where you were and so many things are happening. I couldn’t find you!

“Have you seen the human? I need to talk to them. I think I can change their ways! I— Sans?”

Confusion filled his voice as he saw a giant, skull-like manifestation above his brother, it’s eye glowing, just like Sans’ own. It blazed a fiery blue and golden yellow. In a semi-circle were rows of bones, the massive skull in the middle.

“I’ve been waiting for this…” Sans said solemnly. In one swift movement, over a dozen attacks were flying and Papyrus scrambled to get out of the way.

“Sans! What are you doing?! It’s me! Your brother! I won’t hurt you!” Papyrus yelled, running to him, his eyes glowing amber orange in attempt to calm his brother down. But this didn’t work. He looked down as his soul turned blue. Papyrus flew up, and then crashed into the ground with a loud THUMP. “Augh!”

A loud whirring noise filled the air, Papyrus looked up to see that the skull’s mouth was producing a concentrated light inside it. The noise increased in volume, Sans’ face betrayed no emotion.

“Sans, please, we don’t have to fight. We can… work this out. Let’s just… please. I won’t hurt you Sans… I’m your brother! I can help you!” Papyrus pleaded.

Sans looked at them curiously, and then let out a small, dead laugh, “You really are stupid, aren’t you?”

KAAA—VVVWWOOOOOOOSSSSSHHHAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!

Papyrus fell to his hands and knees, trembling. Sans stood there, eyes dark. “You don’t know this, and I don’t blame you, but you already hurt me. More than you can ever know. You have the relief of not ever knowing, Papyrus. You don’t know and I envy that. I’d give anything to not have what I have. “But now, I just don’t care anymore. You can’t save me, I’m beyond helping. You were the thing that kept me caring, but now… I just don’t want too. So I don’t need you anymore.”

Papyrus stood there like a statue for what felt like ages, then he spoke.

“Sans… I… I didn’t know that you felt this way. I am sorry that I didn’t know.”

Papyrus tried to stand up, but only got as far as straightening up on his knees, “I… if… I hurt you that much… will my death make you happy? If I can…. make you happy, will it help? Will it stop you from hurting? I just want you to be happy.”

Sans frowned, puzzled.

“I’ll do anything to make you happy and if I have to die to do it… I… I will. I won’t be able to hurt you anymore. You’ll be happy. And I’ll be too…” he gave one last hopeful smile, dust slowly filling the air, swirling and floating away. Papyrus’s body started to disappear.

“Goodbye, brother.”

Then he was gone.

…

“Papyrus?” Sans said stupidly, standing there and staring at the dust, “Bro?”

Confusion trickled like warm water in his mind until a bucket of ice-cold reality struck him out of his sedated state. He stared in horror at the pile of ashes in front of him and he fell to his knees, “PAPYRUS?!”

Sans shoved his hands in the dust and snow — denial now setting itself in, only for it to struggle against the immense strength of the truth — and digging frantically like a deranged man, as if his brother was just lying under all the snow and debris, all in one piece and alive.

“PAPRYUS COME BACK! PLEASE ANSWER ME!!! PLEASE!!!”

Nobody answered.

“PAPRYUS, I AM NOT KIDDING, PLEASE DON’T BE DEAD; PLEASE SHOW ME THAT I DIDN’T KILL YOU! I NEED YOU, BRO, PLEASE I NEED YOU! GODDAMIT PAPYRUS!!!! PAPYRUS!!!!” Sans screamed.

…

“NO! No, no, no, no, no, no, no, nO, NO, NO, NO, NO PLEASE! PAPYRUS! BRO, COME BACK, NO I DIDN’T MEAN TO!!!!” Sans was now attacking the snow and flakes of dust filled the air by Sans’ quick and destructive movements.

But nobody came…

He began sobbing, falling on his side in grief and overwhelming guilt, he curled up and feeling the wretched thing squirm and claw inside of him, feeling all these immense emotions at once. He wanted to retch up everything he ate, he wanted to scream, but he wanted to laugh. He wanted to die. He wanted to die so badly.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, but he continued to stare at the ground.

“There, there, Sans. There is no shame to what you feel. This is only you’re first time after all… I’m sure you’ll get used to it” Chara soothed, massaging his tense and shaking shoulder.

Sans tried to stop crying, Chara forced the skeleton to look at them, his face and hands were caked with his brother’s remains, tears of pain mixed with it, dripping down his face in large quantities. Hiccupping, sobbing, laughing all at once, he stared into Chara’s crimson eyes.

“It’s ok, Sans, it’ll be alright. All will just reset and it won’t matter.” Chara lulled.

“But..But…I’ll still… I… I will… reme…mber, I... I… wanna… forget…” Sans blurted, his words cut off with his broken, shortened breaths.

“Oh, Sans. I know, but you see; now there is no going back. This is what it is now. You’ll live with you’re choices forever.”

At that moment, one last thread, one last one which had survived all the abuse given to it and the other threads that had Sans just hanging onto his sanity, all of the others, breaking at the seams, it stayed strong and determined.

But now it lay, snapped in two in Sans’ mind.

“Welcome to the Genocide run…”

#-listens to the screams of Cunzy4 and the damned-#MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHHAAHHA #I AM THE MASTER OF EVIL #GRILLBY DEAD #PAPYRUS DEAD #SANS'S SANITY DEMOLISHED #CHARA BEING CHARA #I AM EVIL #This au belongs to rahafwabas #Something New #KillerSans #Chara #Papyrus #Grillby #Monster Kid #Genocide Route #EXP and LOVE

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