#but i genuinely think this is so hilarious. no cap i’m laughing so hard

[amirasainz]

Hey love. Could I please request some Oscar story. Maybe Oscar and reader being in love with each other and the other drivers teasing them a bit but still think it's cute?

Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!

-xoxo babygirl 🧡

Quiet Hearts, Loud Paddock

The paddock buzzed with its usual chaos: mechanics bustling around, reporters scribbling notes, engines humming in the background. Yet amid the noise, one corner always seemed to shine just a little brighter — wherever Yn stood with her microphone, offering kind smiles and thoughtful questions to drivers who appreciated her genuine warmth.

Yn was the youngest reporter in the paddock, just twenty years old, but already well-liked by the entire grid. Her interviews were never intrusive or sensational. She focused on the people behind the helmets — their personalities, passions, and quirks.

And while everyone enjoyed her presence, one driver seemed particularly captivated by her: Oscar.

The quiet Australian wasn’t one to seek attention, but when Yn was around, his shyness melted into soft smiles, flushed cheeks, and playful remarks. The two of them turned every interview into a game of compliments and shy glances. Everyone could see it — the stolen looks, the way their eyes lingered a beat too long, the rosy tint coloring their cheeks after even the simplest interaction.

The other drivers found it both hilarious and heartwarming. But despite their teasing instincts, they decided not to meddle. Young love, after all, had its own pace.

----------

Media Day

The afternoon sun cast a warm glow over the paddock as Yn stood by the media pen, holding her microphone and checking her notes. She smoothed her blouse and glanced at the interview schedule. Oscar — 3:30 PM.

Her heart skipped. Why did she still get nervous? She’d interviewed him dozens of times, yet her palms always got clammy just before he arrived.

“Waiting for someone special?” a voice teased.

Yn turned to see Lando grinning like a Cheshire cat.

“No,” she said, feigning nonchalance. “I’m just working.”

“Sure, sure.” Lando’s eyes twinkled. “I bet your ‘work’ blushes as much as you do.”

Yn rolled her eyes. “Go annoy someone else, Norris.”

He laughed but left her alone.

Moments later, Oscar approached, dressed in his team polo and cap. Yn's breath caught, but she forced herself to smile as she raised her microphone.

“Hi, Oscar!” she greeted, too brightly.

“Hey, Yn,” he replied, his dimples showing instantly. “You look…uh…nice today.” His eyes flickered to her yellow blouse. “Sunshine-y.”

“Oh, thank you!” she said, cheeks warming. “You always look good in team colors.”

Oscar laughed softly, ducking his head. “I mean…it’s required, but I appreciate it.”

“So, uh…let's talk about the weekend ahead,” Yn said, refocusing. “How are you feeling going into tomorrow’s practice?”

“Excited,” Oscar said. “The car’s feeling good. The team’s worked really hard. I just hope I can do them proud.”

“You always do,” Yn said automatically.

Oscar’s lips parted slightly, as though surprised by her conviction. “Thanks,” he murmured. “That means a lot.”

She cleared her throat. “And how’s the track looking this weekend?”

“Challenging, but fun. I mean, you've walked it, right?”

“Yeah. Nearly tripped over a curb though.”

Oscar chuckled. “Well, I promise not to do that in the car.”

They both laughed, the tension easing into something light and familiar. The interview went on, sprinkled with gentle teasing and lingering glances. When they wrapped up, Yn lowered her mic, but neither of them moved.

“Well…good luck, Oscar,” she said softly.

“Thanks, Yn.” His eyes softened. “See you around.”

As he walked away, Yn exhaled deeply. Across the paddock, Lando caught her eye and mimed a dramatic swoon. She ignored him.

----------

Post-Qualifying Interviews

Oscar had qualified P4 — his best of the season. Yn’s heart swelled with pride as he walked toward her with a grin.

“Congratulations, Oscar!” she beamed as he stopped beside her. “P4! How are you feeling?”

“Over the moon,” Oscar said, running a hand through his hair. “The car was great. The team nailed the setup. Honestly…I’m just happy I didn’t mess it up.”

Yn laughed. “You? Mess up? Never.”

Oscar ducked his head with a bashful smile. “You’re biased.”

“Maybe,” she admitted. “But I'm usually right.”

He met her gaze then, something unspoken crackling between them. She felt her cheeks flush and quickly asked another question.

Behind them, a group of drivers loitered near the hospitality suite. Carlos elbowed Charles.

“Look at them,” Carlos whispered. “They’re practically heart-eyes emojis.”

“Just confess already!” Charles mock-shouted toward Oscar.

Oscar heard. His neck turned bright red. Yn nearly dropped her microphone.

Max, standing nearby, shook his head. “Leave them alone. Let them figure it out.”

Carlos sighed dramatically. “Fine. But if they don’t kiss by the end of the season, I’m intervening.”

----------

Race Day

Oscar finished P4, earning solid points. Yn was the first reporter to greet him as he stepped from the car, hair damp with sweat and a tired but happy smile on his face.

“P4!” Yn said, raising her mic. “That was some brilliant driving, Oscar!”

“Thanks, Yn. It was tough out there.”

“You made it look easy,” she said, her admiration shining through.

Oscar rubbed the back of his neck, his usual tell of nervousness. “Well…maybe I had some extra motivation today.”

“Oh?” Yn tilted her head. “Care to share?”

His eyes met hers. “Nah. Not yet.”

Yn's breath caught. The air between them seemed to thicken, and the world blurred into the background.

When Oscar walked away, Lando sidled up. “Did he just flirt with you?”

“I don’t know,” Yn said faintly.

“You’re both helpless.”

----------

The paddock party was lively, music thumping, drivers and team members mingling with drinks and laughter. Yn stood by the balcony, watching the celebration unfold.

“Hey.”

She turned. Oscar stood there, hands stuffed in his pockets.

“Hey,” she said, smiling. “Congrats again.”

“Thanks.” He shifted on his feet. “I, um…wanted to say something.”

Yn’s pulse quickened. “Okay.”

Oscar took a deep breath. “I really like you, Yn. Like…a lot. And I know we’ve kind of danced around it for a while, but…I just had to tell you.”

Yn’s heart soared. “I really like you too, Oscar.”

His face broke into a smile of pure relief. “Really?”

“Yeah. Always have.”

The silence stretched, comfortable now. Then Oscar, emboldened by the moment, asked, “Can I…maybe take you out sometime?”

“I’d love that.”

They stood there, the party noise fading into a distant hum.

From across the terrace, Charles fist-pumped the air. “Finally!”

Carlos laughed. “Took them long enough.”

Lando raised his glass. “To the shy ones!”

Max shook his head with a fond smile. “Leave them alone, guys.”

But Yn and Oscar didn’t even hear. They only saw each other — their quiet love finally spoken aloud.

[tiny-sassy-aggressive]

9-1-1 WATCH AND REACTION

S4 ep11-14

Ep 11

SUEEE SUE JO NO NO NO NO SUE

I LOVE a good background and this is so funny for Josh listening in on the drama and typing it. Actually so good for him

Buck and Taylor being besties is lowkey one of the best things ever. I genuinely love this for them so much.

NOT ATHENA ATOPPING BUCK AND TAYLIR KNAOOOOO ICON ICON using the mic when he’s right there was even funnier

THE STORAGE CRATE SCENE WAA EXECUTED LERFECTLY. That was one of the most beautifully done scenes I’ve ever seen. The precision, the planning, the voices overlapping. That was flawless. Mastermind. Masterpiece.

Ep 12

I know this is buck and Taylor but this was SUCH a Buddie episode

Love watching Chim and Eddie team up for a helicopter rescue.

BEST MONTAGE EVER. THE BLONDIES AND INSANE HUNTERS?? I laughed so hard this is such a rewatch scene for me. Watching Eddie dive head first into the truck window sent me to TEARS

Oh now Eddie wants to deal??? Didn’t someone say earlier the hunt was stupid??? BUCK AND TAYLOR AND EDDIE I LOVE I LOVE this scene was hilarious. Eddies little passive aggressive aggressive go team send me into orbit.

RAVI RAVI RAVI guys I think I’m in love with he’s so adorable. I want more of the Chim/hen team up here

Iconic that Karen made an algorithm she’s so smart

RAVI DID IT RAVI DID IT!!!!!! I’m cheering so loud for him lmao he found it why would it have to go 8 ways

Athena’s line about a badge ans fun and the team behind her was such a good shot

NOT RAVI DISTANCINF HIMSELF FROM TBE TEAM AT LINE UP. he really said im b squad im not with them

Hell yeah Taylor friendzone buck!

Ep 13

I love this hen/mom/ doctors not taking seriously storyline !!! Such a damn reality I hope people realize this is real and not Just a tv thing

Carla clocked Eddie immediately bless her

Eddie taking care of the child was so sweet :) and FaceTiming Chris!!!!

Watching Maddie break down is so difficult and scary to watch but another real reality I’m glad is being represented.

I didn’t realize I was waiting for Bobby and Athena to fight until it happened!!! I’ve been waiting for this fight bc yeah!!! They are partners but not really!

OH MY GOSB EDDIE MOOOO EDDIE BUCK???? EDDIE NOOOOOOOO. Now knowing. The cinematography of that shot was CHILLING

Ep 14

Buck wasted 0 time rolling under the truck to save Eddie holy hell. This scene is terrifying. DID EDDIE JUST AAK BUCK IF HE WAS HURT???? DID BUCK JUST HAVE TO DOUBLE CHECK IF HE WAS HURT BC HE DIDNT KNOW??? HES COVERED IN EDDIES BLOOOD

hm great script choice to have buck think Taylor was here for story and not him at first. But the way she held is shaking hands WOAH oh wow. I will rewatch that scene with buck and Taylor like 20 times over. Bucks acting??? Top tier. Buck getting defensive about Eddie to the team—- buck staying with Chris— guys.

OKAY THAT WAS A RISKY CLIMB— did you se that smile from buck as he was climbing up?? Like?? It’s like he wanted to be shot?? Cap can ABSOLUTELY blame him lmao!

THO- I adored watching caps face immediately change the second he realized buck was acting this way bc Eddie was shot. The change up was insane. Another massive rewatch.

Hold up. Buck was DEFINITELY gonna say something to Taylor as she ran aaay but got distracted by the call from Ana. That’s a point.

Eddies face when buck said he should have been shot>>>>>>>>

Maddie quitting dispatch noooooooo

Seeing Nia again :)))) such sweet closure

oh so bucks been in the will for well over a year or so. Hm. Okay. Make it make sense. He’s gonna stop buck from being expendable bc he’s got a child now LMAO

FIREFIGHTER ALBERT HAN

[beeblackburn]

Ghosts for the fandom ask as well! 👀

The first character I ever fell in love with: Thomas Thorne. “Ah, she’s gone” remains one hell of a delightful line delivery. And his following melodrama was just amazing to sit through. I love dramatic™ bitches.

A character that I used to love/like, but now do not: I... honestly don’t know? Like, I generally like every character in this series and that’s not particularly a small feat. I suppose if I had to choose... the Captain or Mike, and only because I’ve come to realize their later more self-centered/forcible moments were there from the get-go, from the Captain’s complaining about Fanny’s screaming and Mike taking out a loan without talking about it with Alison while she was in a coma, not necessarily because I dislike them.

A ship that I used to love/like, but now do not: Ummm, none! I generally agree with the ships in this series. 

My ultimate favorite character™: Thomas Thorne, he usually guarantees a laugh with any line reading, he looks good, he usually holds back before his crush on Alison gets too creepy, The Thomas Thorne Affair and Free Pass helps explain his more romantic tendencies and the former genuinely floored me with some of its twists and that last revelation broke my damn heart. Poor Isabelle and Thomas. They lost so much because the first Lord Button was a selfish arse. And I adore that Thomas was the first one who sung along In the Bleak Midwinter with Alison. I hope all the best for him.

Prettiest character: Kitty or Thomas. Kitty’s more my type, and I love her dress, but Thomas has those floofy locks to die for.

My most hated character: FUCK LORD BUTTON THE FIRST WITH A MUSKET BALL. That being said, I don’t come out of the Christmas Special respecting Mike’s sisters. And, depending on how Kitty’s backstory goes, her sister’s set to replace Lord Button the First. Honestly, I feel like I come out of this series hating cousins and sisters.

My OTP: Mike/Alison. Aside from some hiccups, Mike’s genuinely supportive and follows Alison’s lead and Alison grounds Mike’s eccentrics or flights of fear. They’re not friction-less, but they feel lived-in, have little jokes with each other, and are a couple who love each other and work through their problems.

My NOTP: Yeah, still none.

Favorite episode: Man, there’s a spoil of riches in Season 2 alone, but I keep revisiting Happy Death Day, Getting Out, About Last Night, Redding Weddy, The Thomas Thorne Affair, and Bump in the Night. If I had to narrow it down... The Thomas Thorne Affair, Bump in the Night or The Ghost of Christmas all vie for favorite.

The Thomas Thorne Affair is the best flashback episode Ghosts got, given it’s got a ton of narrative room to breathe around the death in question (I love Redding Weddy, but I wanted more scenes between the Captain and Lieutenant Havers), allowing for multiple perspectives to see the death, and I love how many holes get plugged up by POVs like Kitty’s or get misdirected off-track like Robin’s or get made into a more interesting imaginary scenario like the Captain’s (real talk, his take never fails to make me laugh, bless you, Captain). It’s all hilarious (that bird getting shot by Thomas’ gun as he falls is my second-guiltiest laugh of the series) but it also speaks to a very real idea of our memories: that we edit, we revise, we look back with nostalgia or clean up the messier bits. Add in the twists and the Mike subplot and it all adds up to a tragic tale whose theme is about how another man’s utter selfishness is capable of destroying a relationship between two lovers through violence, either directly or by proxy. It’s delightfully hilarious, but it hits so hard and Thomas’ words about the truth making it all worse twists my heart.

I feel Bump in the Night is the funniest episode Ghosts’ got. It’s not particularly serious, there are no real stakes, given one of the burglars is terrible at theft, it’s just a bunch of total morons fumbling through a breaking-and-entering and it’s amazing. Fanny complaining that the burglars are terrible at theft, the Ghosts calling for 999, only to not think through how to communicate, them trying to communicate with Mike via a creepy doll’s eyelids, Alison immediately realizing Mike’s in the wardrobe, Julian writing “2 of them” instead of 2 like a non-dumbass, MIKE IN THE SUIT OF ARMOR, it’s all amazingly funny, but at the same time, it’s all underlined by the emotional truth that Alison, Mike, and the Ghosts have come far enough that the Ghosts are willing to help them out because they like them, instead of scaring them off or causing problems like in Season 1. Alison verbalizes it, but the more touching scene is how she thanks Robin, the Ghost that first scared her because he had nothing better to do, for getting Barclay to help them and he just nods humbly back. This episode is full of idiots, but it’s got a decent amount of heart in it that gives it weight beyond the laughs.

The Ghost of Christmas probably has one of my favorite theses on why we endure the holidays with our families, despite it never being as magical as can be. There’s stuff to nitpick like how I don’t like how Mike’s sisters delight in Mike throwing a fit, going so far to film it, and some of Julian’s scenes with the baby run a bit long for my taste, but I really do like Julian’s summation of Christmas: that it’s perfect because it’s not perfect and that we should be grateful of any time we spend with family, because it will all go away someday, as the ghosts can testify. We take the good with the bad. There are some delightful humor bits like the Ghosts needling the Captain and Thomas to join in on Twister, Fanny looking up at the tall tree from the seeds they planted, Mike’s dad having a chainsaw, and Julian waving off his daughter being a MP of the Green Party (screw you, Julian, she rules because of that), but there’s also the theme of family in the emotional scene. When Mike’s dad tells him they’re overbearing because someday they won’t get to do things for him, there’s a heartwarming irony that, even past death, the Ghosts are there for Alison, their newest family member. This episode made me realize just how... barren Alison’s biological family connections are from the first episode’s mentioning that there were no other direct relatives. And In the Bleak Midwinter is a gorgeous song that cuts as a certain truth: just because others can’t see your family doesn’t make them any less real to you. 

Saddest death: Thomas dying all alone at the tree, no one living by his side, feeling the sting of being rejected one final time at the end because his cousin was a selfish arse who capitalized on a woman he didn’t love for her estate? God, this bears repeating, but fuck Lord Button the First.

Favorite season: Oh, definitely Season 2. I love Season 1, but I’m not a huge fan of second-hand embarrassment and seeing Alison get embarrassed by her reacting to ghosts that others can’t see made me wince quite a few times. I much prefer Season 2′s handling of Alison and the Ghosts and how they work.

Least favorite season: Season 1. I don’t take to the more second-hand embarrassment humor of that season, but I do love every episode except Free Pass. It’s still a great season with episodes like Happy Death Day, Moonah Ston, and Getting Out. Special mention to Happy Death Day, which was the first time I realized Ghosts could balance the comedy and the darkness with sincere emotion without them undercutting each other at the wrong time.

Character that everyone else in the fandom loves, but i hate: Now? Not really. In the first season though, I sometimes found Kitty a little too grating, possessive, and intrusive. Not that I don’t get where she’s coming from, her childhood sounds lonely and painful in ways she doesn’t fully comprehend and ghosthood hasn’t exactly made her any less lonely in some ways, most times I understand, but sometimes, like at the start of Getting Out where I feel she really should pump the brakes. 

That being said, her backstory’s gonna break me. I just know it.

My ‘you’re piece of trash, but you’re still a fave’ fave: Fanny or the Captain. They really can be abrasive or domineering in that first season, the Captain steamrolling over Pat from time to time and Lady Fanny’s nitpicking and homophobia, but I do get why they are that way and they do get better.

My ‘beautiful cinnamon roll who deserves better than this’ fave: Kitty, who deserves all the blankets for that childhood. Mary, who likely has a mental illness and got burnt because of that. Humphrey, who doesn’t deserve being ignored by the Ghosts.

My ‘this ship is wrong, nasty, and makes me want to cleanse my soul, but i still love it’ ship: Thomas/Alison. Thomas, sometimes, your behavior can get a little too much regarding Alison. That first (thankfully only) peep at her in the shower, I know you’ve been frustrated for years as a Ghost, but noooooooo. That being said, when Thomas respects her boundaries and is a supportive friend (have I mentioned how touching In the Bleak Midwinter is?), I dig them.

My ‘they’re kind of cute, and i lowkey ship them, but i’m not too invested’ ship: Pat/Cap. Not that I don’t get it, and it promises heartwarming feels and heartbreak (Pat moving on after they hook up and Captain having to watch another leave him again, but this time, Captain got to admit his feelings before the leaving) and they are rather adorable together, but I’m more waiting for the narrative to acknowledge the possibility before launching myself into the ship full-time.

[chaninfused]

Today, this mediocre blog turns one year old.

And it’s not much, but it’s something, for sure. I’m happy to be writing this, mainly because I didn’t expect to write it in the first place. Coming here, I had no aspirations for this blog. Write and post, that was my initial intent, but I’m glad to say I have found and created much more. As cliché as it sounds, I’ve learned and improved quite a lot, both as a person and a writer. Never in my life had I imagined myself writing y/n stories, yet here I am, and I’m content.

As much as I complain, I cannot deny that this place made this year bearable so far. Everyone, from my friends to my silent readers, made this experience fun, despite the various disappointments of 2020 (ahem, a ruined senior year). For that, I think it’s time to move to the important parts of this letter; all I have to say to you!

First, I must thank the friends that gave me something to look forward to each day. I am honored to have met you all, whom I have spoken to daily or spontaneously. Thank you for keeping up with my sucky person antics!

@luvhjs, I often wonder if we could’ve ever met if @skzwritersclub didn’t exist, or if you didn’t decide to join our fetus network, and I always conclude that it’s not something I want to think about. Simply because it’s horrifying. I might not express it properly, but our friendship is one I treasure beyond words. Thank you for panicking with me over silly things, listening to my nonsense rambles, and in all sincerity, being the best there is. A hundred ‘I love you’s randomly arriving in your inbox would never be enough, but I hope you know that I love you, and I wish you all the best, all the time ♡

@missinghan, I don’t know where to begin, and honestly, I don’t know where to stop either. I don’t regret screaming into your dms that day, although I’m deeply sorry for terrifying you (oops!). All jokes aside, I truly don’t know what I’ve done to deserve a friend like you. I’m grateful for each conversation we’ve had, even that one about maggot cheese or those depressing texts about our dying dashboards. I solemnly believe that I would’ve lost my mind during spring break had we not spent careless hours on Tumblr talking about anything that could possibly be talked about. I feel like I couldn’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done for me; for hearing my writing rants to handling my dramatics to just being there when I send a good morning text in all caps. You are incredible, it is not just a silly nickname. I love you, and I know affection is gross but I’m saying it again. I love you! ♡

@meiiyue, hey, remember when you told me you knew me from Wattpad? That was our first proper interaction, and I am so glad I had gotten to know you better after that. We often joke about it, but I love your love for all things murder. Please never let anyone’s opinions get in your way. You honestly have one of the most unique personalities I’ve ever known. I mean, where else would you find koalas and blood-chilling crime in one place? Thank you for being the cutest and most talented. I hope you know that you’re loved, and I love you, and it will always be that way ♡

@meanhly, oh, look, it’s my keyboard smashing partner! I’m glad you decided to panic about On track in my dms instead of my askbox. Thank you for birthing this beautiful friendship! Speaking of which, what friendship level are we at now, Selina? Okay, I’ll stop fooling around. Thank you for never failing to make me laugh, no thanks to your autocorrect for calling me fruit, though. I think one of the reasons I love the Songless Bird so much is, well, you! It was your excitement about the story that pushed me to explore the world more, to write more. I cannot even begin to express how thankful I am for that. I love you, so much, and I cherish our friendship just as much ♡

@smileylino, our ‘02 line is only complete with you, Rain. Thank you for being the best panic partner (hehe) and the cutest Minho stan. Talking to you is always so much fun, even if we’re just discussing memes or soft scenarios. I don’t know how successfully your Minho detox is going, but I miss your random declarations of love for the one and only. I hope you know that you’re really talented, and I’ll always be here to cheer you on whenever. You deserve only the best this world can offer. I know you’ll do amazing, whatever it is you’ll be doing. I love you! ♡

@lixiefe, if anyone were to see our first interactions, they wouldn’t expect us to become good friends. Yet here we are, and I wouldn’t change that for the world! I love talking to you, even if it’s about the strangest of topics. Thank you for making me love my own work. You make it out to be something special, which it isn’t, but I appreciate that so much. Thank you for handling my self-deprecating statements with hilarious poop references, even though I am still adamantly against them (kidding!). You’re special, I hope you’d know that. I love you so much! ♡

@scriptura-delirus​, we might not interact a lot but whenever we do, it’s always so much fun. I truly admire your work and your way of thinking. Thank you for writing the best fantasy to be found in this fandom, and for all the support you’ve shown my mediocre stories. If this were a follow forever, know that your url would be among the first. I love you! ♡

@jeonginks​, can I consider you a friend? I hope I can. The entirety of my first interactions with you consisted of me embarrassing myself, from that useless blurb to all that panicking. Thank you for not blocking me yet... I am very sure that without SWC, I wouldn’t have ever talked to you. And while I might not panic anymore, you are still someone I genuinely look up to when it comes to writing. I wish you’d know that you’re an inspiration, for me and many writers out there. Also, you can send me as many Liam memes as you want, I’ve become immune to them (phew). I presume this is called affection, but I love you! ♡

@scxrlettwxtches​, writing or not, you’re a dear friend of mine. I’m terrible at expressing things, but I’m glad we started talking. Thank you for listening to all the unnecessary writing things I say. I love your work, even though I don’t say it enough. You might not know but your enthusiasm motivates me to write; all the random questions and spoiler requests. I’m sorry for [redacted] in ‘Row, Row, Row Your Boat’. I hope I’ve been able to make up for that through the blurbs! All in all, I wish you all the best in everything you do, and I love you! ♡

@f3lixlvr​, you are the first person I have properly spoken to in his hellhole. I remember our first conversations and just how much joy they brought me, even though I was hiding behind an anonymous profile. Thank you for being the most amazing and making late 2019 fun and exciting. I love you! ♡

@wingkkun​, we only began directly interacting recently, but we’ve talked before. Your writing is great, beyond that, even. I’ll raid your masterlist one day, just you wait! You seem like a complete sweetheart, and I hope we can talk more in the future. Thank you for all the lovely tags you had left on my stories, I love you! ♡

@ammuqwer​, you are a friend I didn’t expect to make, but one I wouldn’t want to lose for anything. Talking to you brightens my day, and I can only wish I can offer just as much happiness in yours. You’re amazing, really. If you ever have a hard time, please know that you can always find me. I love you! ♡

@p2q3r4​, I often scroll through your blog and I have to say, you’re crazy talented. Your drawings are stunning! Thank you for all the comments you’ve left on my writings, I appreciate every single one of them. You’re also a complete sweetheart, have I ever told you that? And I love your love for languages, it never was annoying. Never stop being amazing, I love you! ♡

🌷 anon, I might not know who you might be, but you’re a friend I cherish so much, Tulip. I love talking to you, and I say that a lot, but hearing from you is always so lovely. Thank you for all the asks you’ve ever sent, those with tmi to those with Splatoon talk. I hope you know that I’ll always be there for you, whenever, wherever. I love you so much! ♡

Caeliman Minho anon, last but definitely not least. I’m afraid this short letter wouldn’t do you justice, but I hope you’d know that you mean a lot to me. Thank you for all the support you’ve shown my work, all the inspiration you’ve given me, and all the thoughts you’ve generously shared. I love hearing what you have to say, and I love you! Thank you for everything ♡

Second, to all my readers, those who always reblog, those who leave a trail of hearts behind, and even those who just pass by, thank you for giving my writings a chance. I am continuously motivated to write more and write better for you. I’m nowhere near that, but I’m slowly making my way up there. Thank you for being the best audience ♡

Finally, to you reading this, thank you for reaching this far. It has only been a year, and I hope I can continue to contribute to this fandom for much longer than that.

Today, a story was meant to be posted. Due to my poor management skills (yikes!), I will instead be posting the world-information edit for ‘Danse Macabre’. Please look forward to it!

That is all. Thank you for making these 365 days on this blog special, and here’s to many more! I love you all! ♡

[rubbish78]

Heyyyyyyyyy you guys wanna read another my short ass slightly slutty (tiny bit) Ghoul/Poison fic?

(It is on aO3 but not posting the link just ask because keekjejejd I’m shy about my other stories but you could probably find this if you wanted to also I was writing nonbinary Poison)

Anyways...........here you go:

Jumping onto the kitchen counter and landing on his butt, Fun Ghoul also pulled his lover, Party Poison, in between his legs. Wrapping his arms around them, he mouthed at their neck, sucking and licking the hot salty skin. Tasted like the desert, so damn good.

Reciprocating, Poison held on to his hips and played with Ghoul’s dusty jean belt loops with their index fingers. They also grinded against Ghoul’s crotch, feeling both their half-hard erections begin to grow between their pants. An animistic moan vibrated against the skin of their throat as Ghoul began to rut against them as well.

The two Killjoys were alone for the most part, everyone was out on a run at the moment, yet they still sneaked into the back of the diner's chaotic kitchen like they had something to hide. Pretty much everyone knew about them, mostly, well not the public or definitely not BLI .

“I know ya think I’m kiddin','' Fun Ghoul abruptly whispered into Poison’s ear, referring back to their earlier conversation. Easing back against the dirty metal cupboards, he cupped Poison’s feminine face with his dirty fingerless leather-gloved hands. “But c'mon Poison, have I ever kid about gettin' ink?”

The evidence was everywhere, Ghoul was covered head to toe with various tattoos, getting to the point he hardly had any plain skin left. His cute boyish face remained untouched…for now and he would probably never get one either but he never let Poison know that just so he could continue teasing them about it since Poison was furiously against it. Nah, he just wanted to ink the left side of his neck now since it felt kind of blank compared to the right side of his neck, which had a scorpion with the wrong amount of legs. It had been his first tattoo and was too excited to even notice the legs.

Poison chuckled low, lifting a hand to card through Ghoul’s greasy ebony colored hair and gazed lovingly into his warm brown eyes.

“Trust me, I know you’re not kidding, I’m actually taking your request quite seriously.”

“So you like?” Ghoul happily beamed, caressing Poison’s face with his thumbs about to plant a kiss on their lips. “I knew you would, so I got—

“Not exactly,” Poison interrupted Ghoul, who frowned a little and dropped his hands to their shoulders. “I just think…you haven’t fully thought it through, like maybe something not so whore-ish?”

“Whore-ish?” Ghoul repeated, almost breaking into hysterical laughter, shaking his head. “Really? Okay. That’s hilarious coming from you.”

“Ah! How dare you!” Poison broke away from him, spinning around in a dramatic manner and ramming into the broken rusty oven, which hadn’t cooked a meal in this diner for years. The oven let out an alarming hissing noise and Poison let a high pitched shriek out before jumping up on the counter next to Ghoul, holding onto him like the oven was gonna explode.

Anticlimactically, the oven door just slammed opened and coughed out dust.

Poison’s grip on Ghoul relaxed and mumbled, “Thought you might have put a bomb in there as a joke or something.”

“Yeah that does sound like me,” Ghoul smirked, deviously. “Good idea for next time, huh? Maybe I’ll try it on Kobra.”

Poison snorted, rolling their eyes and pushed aside Ghoul’s long hair behind his left ear. Staring at the canvas of skin Ghoul wanted to ink before tenderly kissing it. “I can come up with way better ideas,” Poison murmured into his skin. “Let me draw some things up.”

“Wait, first I gotta hear why you think my idea is whore(ish),” Ghoul retorted, genuinely curious. Gripping Poison’s delicate chin, he turned his face to the side and licked the shell of his ear. “I mean come on, if anyone is a whore it’s you—

Letting out a let loud mock offended gasp, Poison playfully smacked Ghoul across the face as if they were one of those actors performing a fake slap onstage. Ghoul half-laughed, half-aroused tried to grab his flailing arms as they mimicked a distressed southern debutante: “Well, I have never been accused of such debauchery in my life!” Fanning their face, they dramatically sighed in Ghoul’s arms. “How will I ever get a good marriage match now with vicious rumors like that spreading around the zones?”

“Ain’t rumors if they are true, sweetheart,” Ghoul teased back in an equally horrible southern drawl. “Now why don’t you put that pretty mouth to good use?” Ghoul fumbled with a pocket on his vest before unexpectedly pulling out a tube of lipstick.

Poison stopped thrashing his body around and dropped the horrible accent. “Wow okay…. you came prepared, you weirdo.”

Ghoul cracked a small smile and shrugged, handing him the tube of lipstick.

Poison took the cap off, finding the lipstick to be the same color as their neon red hair. The lipstick had definitely been used before as it was worn down to almost a nub but most things they found in the desert were broken or used.

“You really want this?”

“Yeah because I’m a whore.”

“Okay maybe “whore-ish” wasn’t the right word,” Poison bashfully admitted, as they played with the lipstick, twisting the tube up and down. “It’s like ugh, uhhh how do I say this uhhhhh…...”

Ghoul raised an eyebrow.

“Like I don’t know, people might interpret it as you being straight.”

If Ghoul was a cartoon his eyebrow would have raised off his forehead into the air.

“I don’t know, it’s something a twenty year old drunk girl would get, y’know?”

“Okay, okay now I’m lost,” Ghoul chuckled in confusion. “So it’s gay then if I got it then?”

“Like ahhhh no!” Poison shook their head, lifting a hand to rub their eyes. Embarrassed, they looked through his fingers at Ghoul. “I mean a girl might get it because it’s aesthetically cute, but boys might get to show off how much they get laid.”

Chuckling, Ghoul took Poison’s hands in his own. “Okay I get what you’re saying...kind of.” Taking the lipstick tube from Poison, he uncapped it and began applying on Poison’s lips, who hesitantly puckered their lips. “As soon as anyone sees you standing next to me they will connect the fucking dots.” He then fished out his pair of aviator sunglasses from a vest pocket and held them up so Poison could see their own reflection of their beautiful red lips.

“But it’s not for anyone else anyways,” Ghoul continued, beaming at Poison who seemed to really like the look on themself. “It’s for me and...fuck, you look hot.”

“Shut up,” Poison blushed, face getting dangerously close to his hair color. “Fine whatever, hold still!” Moving Fun Ghoul’s hair aside, they kissed the left side of his neck and lingered there trying to leave the perfect kiss mark.

Ghoul knew the kiss mark was probably gonna get messed up by the time Show Pony got here with the needles and ink because he was planning to kiss them everywhere but he loved the novelty of the act

“You happy?” they snapped after pulling away, however; lovingly played and twirled with Ghoul’s hair.

“Always with you.”

[puttingfingerstokeys]

faraday cage

so the title should tell you the ship (if you’re familiar with my terminology), but if not, it’s Faraday Cage (Johnny/Raiden). Spacing’s all fucky and, as usual, tumblr eats italics. I’m a lazy POS tho so here ya go! One day I STG I’mma post these on Ao3, with like maybe more words/deets. I skimmed this one before I posted it, so like, hopefully it’s not a TOTAL mess. Hilarious ‘cause the story actually titled “How Come Cassie Gets Two Dads” is only like... POTENTIAL faraday cage and also isn’t in the prevented timeline at all (I mislabeled it initially, WOOPS). 

Prevented timeline

“Hey, Raidude, I’ve got a question for ya.

“Yes, Johnny Cage?”

Raiden shifted on the lawn chair to face the mortal who addressed him, fully aware that whatever came out of the man’s mouth next would almost certainly be foolish. He was eager to hear it.

“What color’s your hair?”

“Oh my GOD, dad; you can’t just ask a guy what color his hair is—that’s so weird!” Cassie, just emerging from the house with a plate of lemonade for the three of them, was appalled at her father’s lack of courtesy toward their divine guest. That, or she was simply messing with him. “It’s like asking a girl if her hair is dyed—that shit stings.”

“It does not insult me, Cassandra Cage,” Raiden reassured the woman, taking the offered glass and giving a serene smile in return. She rolled her eyes. He would never stop calling her Cassandra Cage. She suspected he could not help it. “Fujin and I are twins, thus...” He trailed off, gesturing at his own pause. “But I understand—”

“Wait, you guys are twins?” This was Cassie, settling down next to her father, two glasses in hand. Johnny tipped his shades down his nose to better judge if the god of thunder was toying with them. He was, as usual, not.

“Why is this surprising?” Raiden seemed genuinely taken aback, in point of fact, that the mortals had not known this from the start. He had never made mention of it, because it had never mattered. Every day, he was surprised, again and again, by the things the Cage family said or did, or asked, in this case; it revealed still more layers to the complexity of mortality.

“You just don’t—I mean he looks like he could be, I dunno, mid thirties?” Johnny looked to Cassie for confirmation. She pursed her lips and nodded. “And you’re like—”

“A dad,” Cassie filled in. “Like, sorry in advance and all that, but lowkey dilf status.”

Johnny went red. Cassie was also colored to the ears. Raiden looked between them and understood context with enough acuity to know that whatever she had just said was not, in general, something one discussed in polite or mixed company.

“CASS!” Johnny finally managed to hiss this and give his daughter a hard sidelong glance.

“Well not ME, but like, y’know…” She gestured in Raiden’s general direction, while the god himself was having a mental field day observing their antics. It must truly have been glorious to be mortal, to experience many things only once, seeing phenomena which, to a god, occurred millions of times in the eons of their lifespan, but to a mortal were wholly unique, singular, and precious.

“Well whaddabout me?” Now Johnny was on the warpath. Raiden leaned back in his seat and observed the exchange further, still wondering what “dilf” signified.

“No, dad, I’m not asking anyone that. Gross.” Cassie made a face. “I mean you’re a movie star, so like, someone prolly thinks you’re hot.”

Johnny laughed aloud at that and drank deep of his lemonade, shielding his eyes from the California sun. “That’s good ‘nuff for me. I just need someone to think I’m hot and it’s all good. My ego is very fragile.”

The three sat in silence a while, the only sound accompanying them a light clinking of ice cubes on glass when someone took a drink. It was peaceful and they finally—all three—felt as if they could breathe once more.

“So Fujin’s really your twin, huh?” Johnny was, evidently, not ready to let that point go. Raiden nodded.

“He is the wind and I the lightning,” he said simply, as if this explained it all. “His appearance is that of a much younger man, but keep in mind, we are neither mortal, nor human.”

“Your appearance probably reflects your job, or something, right?” Cassie was taking a stab in the dark, but she was neither stupid nor unobservant. “I mean you’re like the cosmic dad, so, it kinda makes sense you look like one.”

Raiden pursed his lips, considered this, and nodded. “I am flattered, Cassandra Cage, that you consider me a father figure.”

“What am I,” Johnny grunted, crossing his arms and imitating a pouting child, “chopped liver?”

“I can have two dads, dad,” Cassie returned almost without thinking. Her cheeks colored, but she pressed on. “It’s the twenty-first century.”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Johnny, drowning the words in more lemonade and waving his daughter off. “I dunno if Electric Slide here wants the job, though, do ya, big guy? Cassie’s a handful.”

“Cassandra Cage is a competent kombatant; she takes after both her mother and father; I would be honored to fight by her side.”

Raiden’s answers to these things always came across in one of two ways: pedantic and pontificating, or sweeping, all-encompassing, realm-crossing philosophies. This was the latter. Cassie froze a moment, her brain scrambling for words. It was an immense compliment she had just been paid and she, the motormouth of the century, had nothing to say in return.

“Th…thanks,” she stammered, mimicking her father and drowning more words in lemonade. She had her mother’s eyes, in shape if not color, Raiden had noticed, and they widened the same way when he complimented her. He did not hand these out without thought, and so he was pleased she understood the gravity of his meaning. “I’m… prolly not callin’ you dad, though; that’d be kinda weird.”

“Y’think the neighbors would buy the ‘uncle’ bit?” Johnny ventured, speaking to his daughter.

“No way. That just makes you guys sound like a couple on the DL; no one’s on the DL anymore, especially not in Beverly Hills.” The Cages laughed aloud and Raiden smiled once more. Their mirth was infectious. He felt lighter in their presence. It was refreshing. The thunder god felt safe alongside them, a strange phenomenon he did not realize he had lacked until it was placed in his lap, so to speak. He removed his hat and set it gently aside, desirous of the sun’s warmth upon his brow. 

Johnny noticed immediately when Raiden reached up to then loosen and remove the cap which he wore underneath his hat. That thing was a piece of headwear almost as famous as Kung Lao’s razor-edged lid; Johnny could not remember the last time he saw Raiden not wearing it, if ever. Cassie turned as the cap came free and, spilling out, absent of its confining presence, was a thick, light-catching, glossy mane of the whitest hair they had ever seen—save on  Fujin, of course. Raiden felt about in his hair and made the face of someone who has lost something.

“Your uh… scrunchy broke?” Cassie was the first to find her words. She didn’t know what she was witnessing, precisely, but she knew it was rare. Raiden was far too tightly wound to simply take his hat AND cap off in front of just anyone. She wondered if they were the first people to see his hair in millennia. Her heart thudded a little faster as she considered it; this was special and she didn’t even have her phone on her (yet another rare occurrence).

Cassie Cage played the part of a flippant valley girl, but her guts were her mother’s and cleverness and bravery came before all else. She could drink all the iced coffee she wanted, wear the most expensive shades, and shop only at places called boutiques, but she was still a Blade. Blade women looked upon gods with the appropriate awe and she was doing just that at this moment. 

But that was nothing compared to her father.

Johnny was, in a word, thunderstruck by Raiden’s voluminous hair and was assaulted all at once by the urge to see it spread out on a pillow. He stowed that, quick and hard, trying to replace his expression with something resembling nonchalant serenity and contentment, as if it was totally normal for the god of thunder to be disrobing in his presence.

“I seem to have misplaced it, yes,” admitted Raiden, almost sadly. “But it was ancient and… on occasion, ancient things … tire out.”

Johnny leaned forward and took a chance, laying a hand upon Raiden’s knee, lightly, knowing the clothing he wore protected from much of his electrical potential, but not all. There was a low buzz just beneath his fingers. “You’re tired, but not tired out, man,” he reminded Raiden. Cassie was standing quietly, sneaking away from her seat. She knew what she was seeing and it would be best to get a move on while their attention was focused on each other. “You’re a god—like, an eternal battery; you guys never run out.”

“Your confidence in us is flattering, Johnny Cage,” said Raiden sadly, “but ultimately misplaced.”

“I don’t think it is,” responded Johnny with resolve. “No, see, I’m not built to have faith in something I haven’t seen—someone who I don’t know can deliver on his promises, or fight damn hard to do it.” What other god would go to the lengths Raiden had to protect his people? Johnny couldn’t think of a single mythological example, at least. “I have faith in you because you’ve more than earned it.”

It was now Raiden’s turn to be struck dumb. His lips were parted, just a little, as if he had intended to protest, but the protest died thereupon and was caught, suddenly and without warning, by Johnny’s.

[xyliane]

the many lies of kanzaki hitomi to her long-suffering best friend uchida yukari (pt 2)

summary: when hitomi said “destination wedding,” yukari was picturing a quaint beach, or a big european city that van would hate. teleporting to a magical second moon was not really what she expected. (part 1 here)

notes: I didn’t intend on writing more of this, but I didn’t write enough van/hitomi in the first part so I guess I have to actually write out the destination wedding fic. which I haven’t even gotten to yet, so there’s that. thanks @wuzzyletoastermac for putting up with me yelling about gaean dialects and architectural influences via magic rock transportation because guess who made yukari an architect on a whim and is going to follow through on it dammit. G, yukari and hitomi friendship, van/hitomi, also featuring merle, ruhm, and hitomi’s family. 2100 words.

---

The first wedding is a June ceremony in Japan, which gives Yukari just enough time to panic over her hostess duties, get everything organized, and panic again when Hitomi nearly doesn’t come back from Greece—from Gaea—in time and lands on the roof of Yukari’s apartment building with barely an hour to spare. Something about ongoing restoration projects and traumatized children growing into traumatized adults and long bygone wars. To be honest, Yukari barely listened, too busy moving through her checklist at record speed. Later, once everything’s moving, Van’s little sister Merle is only too happy to explain in halting Japanese that it’s mostly Hitomi’s fault. Yukari decides she likes the young woman immediately, so quickly that she nearly misses that Merle is, in fact, a cat. It’s a beautiful day at the shrine, the wedding itself is heartbreakingly lovely, the reception runs impeccably smooth, and Yukari only cries twice during her speech.

Hitomi promises that the wedding in Fanelia, on Gaea, on the bloody Moon, won’t be nearly as much work. Given the relatively quiet wedding the Kanzakis have thrown and Van’s own stoic reticence, she assumes it’ll be more of the same: pretty, peaceful, Yukari will cry multiple times. All Yukari has to do is show up with the other Kanzakis. And, as the months between weddings wear on, Yukari realizes just how much and how little she knows about her best friend. She’s still the same Kanzaki Hitomi, still the same kind-hearted woman equally likely to sprint across a city to help a friend as she is to be late to her own wedding. But she also travels to another planet on weekends and helps rebuild a war-torn land, was there during a war and still wants to return over and over again.

Merle, utterly delighted by Van’s corner of Hitomi’s closet, mentions that Hitomi has a similar closet of dresses in Fanelia that she struggles to remember to wear, and finally someone understands Yukari’s unending suffering.

The second wedding, however, isn’t until winter. Hitomi is only just able to get multiple weeks off after taking on an extra month of shifts, a problem Yukari does not have. Being her own boss is spectacular. But Hitomi is asking everyone going on a journey to the Moon to meet in the center of an empty lot outside of town just before twilight on one of the first truly cold days of winter, and Yukari is currently reconsidering everything that led her to this point.

And then Van descends from the sky in a pillar of light, his wild black hair bound in a tight braid and his loose clothing whipping around him in a gust of wind, and well that explains a lot.

“You have to want to go,” Hitomi explains for the fifth time as she clasps their hands together, the cold metal of her engagement ring burning against Yukari’s bare skin. Next to them, Van is greeting his mother- and brother-in-law, matching Sota’s incredulous expression with a beleaguered sigh. “Really, really want it.”

“I know, Hitomi.” Yukari wants to go, so much that she aches with it. How could she not? For Hitomi, of course, and maybe a little bit for Van. But mostly, Yukari wants to understand what about this other world, a land both beautiful and sad, could possibly draw Hitomi back. Because yes, Hitomi is a romantic, but she also has a deeply practical streak. If she didn’t think this long-distance relationship (long, long, long distance) would work, she would figure out a way to let him down easy, taking all the pain of the break into herself rather than letting anyone else suffer. If she didn’t love Gaea as much as she seems to, she wouldn’t have run herself ragged learning how to fix it with all the tools she has at hand. Wouldn’t have decided to become who she is for anything less than a whole world.

“I do want to go, I promise,” Yukari says with all her heart.

Warmth bubbles up in the spaces between her fingers and Hitomi’s, building and building like a spring breeze until a bright smile spreads across Yukari’s face. And her best friend grins, wide and wondrous with joy.

“Hold on,” Hitomi says, and grabs onto her husband’s shoulder with her free hand. He smiles, a rare genuine brilliance that feels almost too private to be seen by anyone else, and pulls a beautiful pink stone pendant out from beneath his shirt. It’s familiar, too familiar, and not because it is the same color as Hitomi’s engagement ring and certainly not because both stones have begun to glow.

Yukari has about half a moment’s realization that Van is wearing Hitomi’s old necklace before a bright beam of light erupts from beneath her feet, and then the world is gone.

—only to return barely a breath later. It happens so suddenly that Yukari loses her grip on Hitomi, tumbling ass over teakettle to land in a field of soft grass. The sky stretches out impossibly far above her, painted in splashes of reds and purples and the deepest blue Yukari has ever seen disappearing into snow-capped mountains growing up from the earth in shattered peaks. Even in the twilight with the sun hovering just above the horizon, a pair of moons is hung in the sky, consuming the sky and almost close enough that Yukari can hold them in her hands if only she could reach.

Oh, that’s no moon. That’s the Earth.

Well.

As though sensing her rising vertigo, Hitomi leans over her, short brown hair fairly glowing in the fading sunlight and her grin wide. But her green eyes are far too gentle, like she can read exactly what’s going through Yukari’s mind and she understands. “It’s really something, right?” she says.

It brings Yukari back from the sky. She lets Hitomi haul her back to her feet, patting down her slacks and coat into something presentable, although her hair is probably a lost cause. She tries anyways, especially as a small group of riders on horseback arrive up a well-worn path. The first horse pulls up suddenly, and a fuzzball in the shape of a woman hurls herself right into Van’s arms and nearly knocking him over.

“Van anax!” Merle says with delight, her voice a familiar grounding point against the unexpected strangeness of everything even as Yukari can’t understand a word she’s saying. The others laugh, clearly used to this, and Hitomi slides over to pet Merle between her ears, earning her a baleful glare from the cat woman and a coughing laugh out of Van.

Mrs. Kanzaki watches the proceedings with a smile not unlike that of her daughter’s. “Those are beautiful animals, don’t you think?” she says, walking gracefully over to the horses. The riders have dismounted, a tall wolfish man with a wide flat nose and large brown eyes nodding deeply at the two women. He says something in the same language Merle is chatting away in, syllables rising and falling musically around hard consonants.

“I’m sorry, I don’t—” Yukari says, and the wolf man smiles apologetically.

“Ruhm,” he says, and points to himself. “Onoma soi te astin?”

Yukari has spent far, far too much time abroad. The introduction pantomime is recognizable anywhere.“Yukari,” she says, hand to her own chest, and gestures back to the absolutely terrible hostess of her best friend. “Hitomi’s friend?”

Ruhm blinks, and dips his head a little deeper. He says something else completely unintelligible, and Yukari tries to not feel too put out. He seems really nice and all, but Yukari’s spent enough time abroad to know when to give up on pantomiming and go for help.

Fortunately, so does Hitomi’s family. “Oi, Hitomi?” Sota says, voice loud and edged with the bratty annoyance of a younger sibling. “Translation?”

She sticks her tongue out, and he gestures right back. Mrs. Kanzaki sighs, and it sounds almost like an exasperated children. But Hitomi comes over anyways, Van following in her wake. Ruhm bows deeper to both of them. “O basileos,” he says with a broad smile, and Van waves a hand, saying something clearly meant to be a joke.

Van tells jokes. Will wonders never cease. Too bad Yukari won’t understand a single one.

“This is Ruhm,” Hitomi says. “He’s known Van since he was little. Merle wanted to greet us when we got here, so he and the others decided to come along and bring a cart for our stuff.”

“I didn’t want you lost again!” Merle says, accent almost like a growl. “You always are lost when you arrive in the city’s out parts.”

“Outside of the city,” Van corrects quietly, and Merle’s ears pull back into her hair. “But she is right.”

“If I remember right, Van, you were the one who dropped us all the way at the borders.”

He says something short in response, and Ruhm gives a deep belly laugh. But when Yukari looks for a translation, Hitomi simply turns a bright red.

Yukari sighs. “This is going to be a long week if you don’t translate everything that embarrasses you,” she says.

A long, hilarious week, but Yukari likes to know what’s going on around her. It helps her know what to do next, how she can make things the most efficient. Planning makes even the strangest places more understandable, or at least easier to navigate. So at least a little help would be nice. Anything that will keep her from completely losing herself to the strange moons and the sky again.

For a moment, it looks like Hitomi’s going to argue. But she studies Yukari’s face, reads her like a book, and takes a step back. “It’s okay,” she says. “I asked Merle to help you and Mom and Sota around.”

A flurry of Gaean erupts out of the woman in question, her tail flicking back and forth in irritation, and Hitomi tries to put her hands up in defense. “I mean, what I did was—catnip doesn’t exist here, and we went into this pet shop in Akihabara after the first wedding, and so…”

“You bribed her,” Van says, clearly amused.

“You gave her drugs,” Yukari says, only mildly scandalized because this is Hitomi.

“I bribed her with good drugs,” Hitomi agrees.

“So pay up!” Merle yowls in clear Japanese and pounces onto Hitomi’s back, knocking her forward. They would have fallen to the ground if Ruhm and one of the other wolf people hadn’t been in the way, propping the women up and not bothering to cover their barks of laughter.

It’s an easy ride into the city through the last dredges of sunlight, once all of their bags are loaded up onto Ruhm’s cart. Van jumps into the saddle like he was born to it, listening to the welcome party with a keen attention. At some point, he’s buckled on a black belt with a long sword, the black sheath resting at his hip like a missing puzzle piece. Hitomi doesn’t pick up any new weapons or anything, but she chats away with her mom and brother, occasionally translating something Ruhm adds, relaxed and open. Merle is curled into her side, purring away as Hitomi scritches her ears absent-mindedly. Despite the strange scenery, that there aren’t any cars and most of the people they’re with are also wolves and cats, she’s relaxed and open, comfortable in her skin.

Not that Hitomi isn’t usually, but she’s just more…more.

A whole second world. A whole other life. Other friends, loves. Something cold burns at the base of Yukari’s throat. It’s not jealousy, exactly, but…

“We’re here,” Hitomi says, and Yukari’s thoughts scatter into sparks.

The forest falls away into the mountains, and the valley spreads out in front of them in a tapestry. In the center is a city, its massive front gates wide open and framed by freshly lit torches. Two- and three-story buildings frame an open brick square, the wood and stone walls whitewashed and framed by dark banisters and gently angled tile roofs. The streets slope steadily upwards, leading to a massive castle or shrine that nestles against the sheer stone walls of the valley. If it weren’t for the narrower eaves and the great amount of stone in even the most modest homes, or how almost every building appears to have been built or renovated sometime in the last decade, Yukari would have thought she’d not traveled to another world, but to the Heian period.

She can hear her history of architecture professors laughing at her. She is a modernist, after all, she doesn’t design traditional buildings. But no, here she is trying to decipher hypothetical period architecture living right before her eyes, trying to put something in an order she understands. Because it’s breathtakingly beautiful, and impossibly strange, and Yukari wants so desperately to know.

Van catches Yukari staring and smiles, his eyes gleaming with fierce pride. “Aspadzomai, Yukari Uchida,” he says. “Welcome to Fanelia.”

(part 1)

[hwqll]

hello!! just thought I'd stop by and say thank u for making content for us!! your little creations help make my day go by a little better :) also I thought I should ask whats your favorite thing about each tbz members if you dont mind? I'm in the mood to adore these boys more! 💞🥰

that's so sweet thank you for appreciating my content ( ´∀｀)ノ～ ♡ i'm glad i could help make your day even the slightest bit!!

here are my favorite things about each member :D it's very long i'm sorryy but my tbz love switch activated

sangyeon: his fatherly aura! i may joke around and say that sangy is in his prime age/retirement but thats really only because he gives off such dad vibes. he's super caring for both his nephews and tbz it makes me really fond && i'm glad tbz could rely on him ;;

jacob: his kindness! it's rly no joke that jacob is an angel(even though he could be a lil bully sometimes) as he is actually extremely nice 24/7 :') i love hearing tbz rave ab how kindhearted it is all the time. though a very very close runner up for my second favorite thing i have to mention is his voice. it's so soft all the time i could listen to him speak forever rly

younghoon: the way he gets shy after doing any fan service! he'll often cover his face up with his hands or hide behind a member nd i think that's super cute of him ;; i do want him to be more bold with doing fan service for the sake of confidence but even after almost 3 years he's still a shy baby !!

hyunjae: WHEN HE LAUGHS! i'm saying this in caps bc his face goes (ᗒᗜᗕ) and i LOVE it. he laughs at everything and when he does he'll throw his body back LOL or hit another member. it's also so loud like gosh his laughing is so genuine it instantly turns me fond

juyeon: his compassion! thinking about how kind and sensitive jy is makes me want to sob lowkey bc it's so well known how nice he is via past classmates and the present rn. he has a lot of sweet moments but the most recent one in particular was when he made a TINY mistake during their shangri-is stage on rtk and was so heartbroken he cried. this alone shows how much he cares ab his performance a ton for the sake of himself and tbz. he's clearly hard on himself which makes me :( and i do hope he lowers his own standards

kevin: his dorkiness lol!! kev has amazing art and vocal skills that'll never fail to impress me, however, the way he speaks is so hilarious to me because he's a living meme. he's had countless awk moments that make me go, "oh, kevin you fool" that make me laugh all the time and make me want to protect him. all of his moments are incredibly memorable and i love how he vibes

chanhee: his interactions! so chanhee vlives are my favorite thing ever by himself or with another member bc he won't hold back from speaking (?) like an example would be when he argues with deobis for 15 minutes about why he hates tomatoes HAHA or another one is when changmin runs his mouth and he just goes "SEE, EVERYONE, this is ji changmin" smmfnss it's just something of his personality that entertains me he acts the same with everyone including the fans

changmin: his passion for dance/being an idol in general! now this is a lil controversial for me because changmin puts so much effort and detail into practicing BUT he's so hard on himself T____T i'm really glad that he puts perfecting himself at the top priority though i wish he would put his mental health before that. he's rarely satisfied with himself and just the thought DEVASTATES me because in many deobis eyes he's so incredibly skilled yet he doesn't see that about himself. ofc i don't know everything about him but this is just what he's revealed on camera ;; please love yourself baby you're amazing

haknyeon: his vocals! he has a lower tone like changmin when it comes to singing and it's truly the most beautiful thing ever. i think it's butterfly or lucid dream where his vocals are just CHEF'S KISS. also his part in bloom bloom right after kevin's is my favorite thing in the world i wish hak got more lines he deserves it :"( checkmate too!!! when he and changmin are singing at the same time then it's just him ahh i admire it. sry this is just a "my favorite hak vocals" because i don't see many ppl mention it often but it really does deserve attention nd his vocals are engrained in my memory

hyunjoon: I MISS EVERYTHING ABOUT HIM but truly my favorite thing from the literal beginning of seeing him to now is his resting scowl. he's the embodiment of a house cat bc he's intimidating looking and then he just hits you with the i'm babie! he was a popular favorite amongst his hyungs and just thinking about that it makes me soft bc he was tbz' resident baby boy HAHA but then alas he would go on stage and attack all deobis simultaneously with his power ;;

sunwoo: his dual personality! to me, sw is the funniest person in tbz snmfhss he's so hilarious out of nowhere and during variety shows/vlives he's the one that makes me laugh the most. he is tbz #1 bully YET he's also just . the most generous boy. it's really clear that he is appreciative of his members all the time and everyone/thing rly. whenever i read his fancafes my heart just melts into a puddle because he's honestly extremely selfless ;; i swear i can hear him vividly say "i love you deobis" in my head because he says it so often

eric: LOML!! him and sunwoo have a tie in my heart for being the sweetest boys on earth. what made me bias him is how grateful he is as a person like he'll cry at the mere THOUGHT of tbz as his family and i just Q___Q at the way he cares for his members. he also posts many letters and selcas to deobis which are super motivating and lovely. i will forever adore that his key phrase is "always remember, eric loves you!" because it's his thing nd everyone knows it is!! i just wanna tell it straight to his face i treasure all the heartfelt messages he posts on a daily as it genuinely makes my day a lil bit better each time i see it ;;

[keelywolfe]

Drabble: Hatters Gonna Hat (baon)

Summary: One should be wary of unexpected gifts.

Tags:  Spicyhoney, Established Relationship, Domestic Fluff

Notes:   A little cheering up seemed to be in order.

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

~~*~~

Read it on AO3

or

Read it here!

~~*~~

From the very first moment the doctor told him he would need a cast on his leg, Edge began formulating expectation on how this would affect his day to day life. For as long as he needed to keep it elevated, cooking was off the table (no pun intended), he couldn’t navigate the stairs in the basement to the washer and dryer, but he would be able to fold the clothing if brought to him. He could work on his laptop, he could read the paper, watch the news, and catch up on darning every single holey sock in his basket.

That was what he assumed would be the case. But what he quickly learned was what the cast really did was turn him into one of Stretch’s absolutely favorite things:

A captive audience.

Not that Edge minded, not at all. If there was one bright point to this, it was getting to spend time with Stretch. There was nothing quite as charming as listening to him excitedly talk about a new experiment or describing how his latest grilled cheese was almost sacrificed upon the altar of his inattention.

Listening to Stretch was something he never, ever tired of.

So when Stretch came barging downstairs that afternoon, a wide grin already splitting his face, Edge was already saving the work on his laptop, ready to set it aside and once again take on the role of attentive audience.

He nearly skidded to a stop in front of the sofa and Edge, his hands behind his back like a child playing a guessing game as he rocked on his heels and announced, “i made you something.”

“Did you?” Edge said neutrally. He set his laptop aside; this was going to require his full attention.

“i made you a hat!” Not entirely a surprise, he’d noticed Stretch being oddly secretive with his knitting. Somewhat more surprising was when he held up what looked like a knotted handful of yarn, mostly in greys and browns.

“That seems…interesting.” Of his selection of replies, that one seemed safest.

Not that Stretch was fooled. He scoffed, “it’s a different style, doubting thomas, here let me put it on you.”

Edge immediately leaned away from his hands and the dubious hat, eyeing it warily. “You’re being a little too helpful.”

“what? i’m always helpful!” That wide-eyed wounded expression that was about as believable as his next ploy, "don't you trust me?"

"With life and limb, always, with my dignity, almost never," Edge said dryly. That hurt look took on a surprisingly effective wibble, his chin quivering as he met Edge’s stare pleadingly. Edge sighed deeply and surrendered. “Fine, go ahead.”

It was almost worth the upcoming disgrace to see that beaming smile on Stretch’s face. With a few quick movements, the ‘hat’ was nestled snugly on his head. The yarn itself was very soft and warm, the hat covering his entire skull and it seemed to have a sort of face shield as well. That might be useful on days when he was shoveling their sidewalk.

The problem was that Stretch was snickering before he even finished tugging the hat into place. By the time he stepped away, one hand covering his mouth in a fruitless attempt to stifle that laughter, Edge was resigned to his fate. “What have you done?”

“wait, wait,” Stretch giggled. He pulled out his phone, unmoved by Edge’s glare as he snapped a few pictures. Only when he turned his phone to Edge and showed him did he understand.

The hat looked as if there were two horns sprouting from the sides, standing in stiff, upright peaks from a cap of gray, and the face shield was in fact a knitted beard that hung all the way down to his chest, with long braids making up a sort of moustache. The effect of his deep crimson eye lights glaring out made him look like some sort of cheaply-made undead Viking in one of those horrid old movies that Stretch loved so.

Stretch was doubled over with laughter by now, tears standing out in his sockets and Edge could only shake his head and tug the hat off. “Your sense of humor could use a tune up, love.”

“nah, i think it’s in perfect working order,” Stretch snickered. He wiped at those looming tears. “come on, that was hilarious.”

“Hilarious,” Edge said, deadpan. He pointed a sharp finger at his husband, “I better not see that picture on twitter or Instagram or any other social media platform where my staff can see it.”

“aw, come on, babe, would i do that to you?” And there was a genuine touch of offended hurt.

“No,” Edge agreed softly, “you wouldn’t. That said—"

It was probably an honest mistake that Stretch stayed within reach, his awful depth perception of his working against him. The cast that kept Edge as a captive audience wasn’t enough to slow him from grabbing hold of Stretch’s arm, reeling him laughingly in. Despite his squirming, Edge forced the hat on him, the beard hanging crookedly as Stretch fought weakly, giggling too hard to be very effective.

Edge held him down with one hand, snatching up his phone with the other to take a few hasty pictures. Most of them were blurry smears but a few shots framed Stretch’s newly, if somewhat messily, bearded face.

By the time he finished, Stretch was sagging weakly across his lap, the hat still askew on his skull as he gasped for breath.

“There we are, a few pictures for your twitter,” Edge told him, flipping through the shots until he found the best one. That one, of Stretch with his head tipped back, his laughing smile visible beneath the tangle of yarn, he texted to Stretch.

“thanks, babe.” The gratitude in those words was for more than the picture and when he cupped Edge’s face in his hands, kissing him through that false beard, all Edge wanted was to taste the sweetness of that smile.

He might be the captive audience, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t hold on just as tight.

-finis-

[fanficimagery]

Imagine your sister having you move in with her after the last of your family has passed away. Living with superheros and agents never ever crossed your mind, but here you are. Fortunately for you, your sister's boyfriend grants you your own personal floor which no one visits less they've talked to you beforehand.

Brock X Reader

After SHIELD fell and HYDRA came out of the shadows, the world was in chaos. No one knew who to trust and people became paranoid of their city and state officials/representatives after it came out that there was a HYDRA mole within the President's inner circle. It took months and a lot of trust for Captain America, along with a select few trusted individuals, to figure out who was clean and not a lying liar who lied.

No one no longer trusted anything affiliated with the name SHIELD, so it took a lot of persuasion for the World Council to put the Avengers in charge of their very own division. They were to be in charge of all the ex-SHIELD agents who were actually on the right side of things and to be in charge of training any new powered individuals in hopes of them putting their powers to good use.

It was a lot of work, but eventually everyone came together. But then your father passed away- the man you'd been taking care of since your mother passed- and your elder sister Pepper wanted to keep you close. And since you couldn't deny your sister anything, you made the decision to relocate.

Moving into Avengers Tower, you were momentarily starstruck by Captain America. It took Tony pouting and Pepper smothering her giggles for you to snap out it, and after quickly apologizing to Captain- call me Steve- America, meeting everyone else was fairly easy. However, your right eyebrow did twitch every time you saw someone in uniform or covered in blood and/or bandages. Tony thought it was hilarious, but your sister took pity and they relocated you to your own personal floor that had everything you needed so you didn't have to leave your floor if you didn't want to.

Life turned out pretty great, especially after landing the job of receptionist for the Tower. Making appointments, granting/denying entry, and reading everyone's file who stepped into the tower was a pretty easy gig. But sometimes there were some idiots who liked to make your job a little harder than necessary.

Sitting behind a desk, taking calls and making appointments on Stark's fancy tech was probably the easiest job you've ever had. Ogling the powered individuals and agents in tactical gear was a major plus of the work environment, but dealing with the entitled rich assholes who thought themselves too important to need an appointment all while keeping a smile in place was the downfall. Like right now for example.

"I'm sorry, sir," you say for the sixth time, internally screaming, "but I really can't let you up without an appointment. Miss Potts and Mister Stark are very busy people."

Entitled asshole #3 of the day sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You don't seem to understand-"

"I understand perfectly." You smile, adding a touch of pity to your expression. "But rules are rules. I could lose my job if I let you upstairs and you interrupt a meeting they're currently in."

The scumbag scoffs. "As if finding another job is so hard. There's a coffee house on nearly every corner needing a pretty face behind the counter."

Your smile falters, your eye twitches, and your gaze goes steely.

"Is there a problem here?" The gruff voice startles you and your gaze cuts to the left. Standing there is one of the agents who are usually in and out of the tower, but it's someone you've never seen before. Dark eyes, dark hair cut short on the sides and styled loosely on top, and a five o'clock shadow clinging to a very cut jawline.

Your fellow receptionist audibly swoons and you have to bite your tongue to keep from laughing. Quickly glancing at your screen where a pop-up is suddenly blinking from facial recognition being triggered as the agent stepped up to the desk, your smile turns more genuine and lax. "Agent Rumlow. You're early."

"Cap likes his men being punctual, sweetheart." His lips twitch in your direction and the scumbag quietly groans. His gaze narrows as he looks back to the annoyance of the day. "Now is there a problem? I don't think Mister Stark or Miss Potts appreciates you harassing their receptionists."

"Look, man, all I want is to talk with Miss Potts. I'm only in town for a few days and-"

"-and Miss Potts is a very busy woman. If you wanted a meeting with her, then you should have called weeks prior to your trip to see if there was a possibility we could squeeze you in. Dropping in at the last second is really not appropriate."

Scumbag puffs up as if to go off again, but agent Rumlow steps in. "There you have it, pal. You ain't getting upstairs so I suggest you take the loss and schedule an appointment for the next time you're in town."

The guy huffs, bends down to pick up his suitcase, and stomps off. Once he exits and the door shuts behind him, your shoulders droop. "Jesus Christ," you mutter. "That was the most stubborn one today." Your fellow receptionist chuckles and goes back to work, and the agent grins. Smiling sheepishly, you say, "Sorry, agent Rumlow. I shouldn't have said that out loud."

"You're fine," he assures you. "People might make light of the work you do as a receptionist, but they don't take into account the assholes you have to deal with on a daily basis. You're allowed a sigh of relief after dealing with that."

You mock swoon, holding a hand over your heart. "Why, Mr. Rumlow, I do believe you've just become my favorite person ever." That earns you a chuckle and you almost really do swoon. His smile is fuckin' lethal.

Before you can say anything else, your screen pings. Glancing at it, you see it's a message from Tony.

     'Stop flirting with Rumlow and send him on up. It's weird.'

     'Aye, aye, second boss man.'

After hitting send, you turn your gaze back to agent Rumlow. "They're expecting you upstairs. I assume you know the way?"

"'Course I do, darling." He raps his knuckles against the desk before walking backwards, he then turning and heading for the special elevator that goes up passed the average Stark Inc. floors. Then once settled inside the elevator, he faces the closing doors and winks before he's hidden from view.

"Holy shit," you utter, picking up a file that was laying nearby and fanning yourself with it.

The second receptionist chuckles. "Holy shit indeed. Brock Rumlow is not only one of the best agents SHIELD or the Avengers has ever had, but that man is hotter than hell."

"I don't doubt that. Especially the hotter than hell part." Your friend giggles and you put the file down, composing yourself immediately when you see the lobby doors open. "Okay. Shut up about Rumlow now. We need to concentrate on work and not what his dick might look like."

Your friend cackles and you immediately regret your words when everyone in the lobby startles and glances your way.

Over the next week you're treated to watching Agent Rumlow come and go from the tower. He and another agent had apparently been reassigned temporarily, and you were quite grateful since he and Agent Rollins made quite the eye candy. It also helped that Agent Rumlow seemed to scare off anyone giving you trouble because they didn't make an appointment or missed one.

Thankfully, however, your time off has come up and you're quite looking forward to relaxing the next four days. Even if it means you don't get to see the hot agents come and go.

You have dinner with your sister and Tony, and spend some down time with the Avengers who are not on-call by playing some video games or going out and exploring the city.

Then on your third day off, your favorite football team is scheduled to play- the Dallas Cowboys vs. Atlanta Falcons. The only sport fanatics- Sam and Bucky- were busy, so it appeared you were going to be watching alone. You ordered enough food for four people in case the boys got back early, then headed to your bedroom to change into a Dak Prescott jersey, some small sleep shorts, and a pair of knee high socks.

As you waited for your food to be delivered, you let the pre-game play as background noise while pulling down a small stack in plates and a handful of utensils in case guests popped in.

The elevator dings nearly forty minutes later and you practically skip over to greet the delivery boy. Only.. it's not a delivery boy. Oh no. It's more like delivery men. Agent men.

Coming to a stop several feet away, your right eyebrow raises in surprise. "Rumlow. Rollins. This is a surprise."

Their stoic expressions immediately melt and Rollins lights up, whereas Brock turns curious.

"G'Day, love!" Jack Rollins greets, his usual murder-face vanishing when faced with a friend as he enters your domain.

Brock follows, plastic bags swinging from his hands. "You live here, sweetheart?"

"Yeah. The floor is accessible only to those given permission to visit." Realization dawns on both men and you slowly grin. "You've pressed the button before, haven't you?"

"Yep. Never worked," Rollins muses. "Now where do you want these, sheila? He then asks, you trying not to giggle at his Australian accent as he raises the plastic bags in hand.

"Kitchen is good," you say, gesturing them to follow. They do and you huff a laugh when you glance over your shoulder and see them glancing around your place. You have an entire floor to yourself, it being an open-floor plan with the only doors leading to the two bedrooms which each have their own bathrooms inside. Then watching as Rumlow and Rollins set the bags of food down, you say, "JARVIS scans everyone in the elevators. If they press the button for my floor and aren't on the approved list, the elevator won't budge. If you've been approved, JARVIS will let the elevator stop on my floor."

"No offense, sweetheart, but how does a secretary land a place like this?" Brock asks.

You shrug. "My sister wanted me close. We're all that's left of our family and when she asked me to move in, I did."

"Sister?" Rollins asks, brow furrowing.

"Have you guys not noticed my last name? Seriously?" Brock and Jack shrug, and you laugh. "Potts. I'm Y/N Potts. Pepper's younger sister."

"Holy shit."

"You can say that again, mate."

"Now that that's out of the way," you grin. "How did you guys get up here?"

"Oh. Uhh. Shelly?" Brock says, stating it as a question rather than an answer. "She was working the desk downstairs when we getting ready to leave for the night. Delivery guy left the food and she asked us to bring it up after typing something on her computer."

"Hmm. She must have been giving you temporary access to drop off the food," you say. Both men nod and glance around again, and you smother a smile when you see their gaze drawn to the TV. "Well if you guys are off for the night and don't have any plans, I ordered a lot of food if you want to stick around and watch the game. There's beer and other drinks in the fridge."

"Ace!" Jack cheers, turning to dig through the bags he and Brock had just brought up.

You chuckle and then glance at Brock, coloring slightly as his gaze drop down to your bare legs then back up towards your navy blue jersey. He grimaces. "Cowboys fan, sweetheart?"

"Don't hate," you say. "I'll agree to Romo being a pansy ass QB, but Prescott is actually pretty decent. Beasley and Witten are beasts, and you can't tell me otherwise." He holds his hands up in mock surrender and you gesture to the food once more. "Now come on. Grab a plate and fill it. If Clint decides to drop in tonight, he'll eat all the egg rolls."

Jack holds a beer out to Brock as he passes by and the two men waste no time in helping themselves to the food.

As the night progresses, neither men hide their amusement as they see a completely different side of you. Gone are the pant suits and pencil skirts and calm demeanor, and in their place is a screaming football fanatic wearing the smallest shorts ever threatening the ref on TV because he missed throwing the flag on a face mask call.

You don't know what possesses you to give agents Rumlow and Rollins access to your floor, but you do and you've never been more happy. After that first night where they stayed to watch the game with you, something just clicked with them. Jack Rollins was strictly a friend, sometimes a flirtatious one, but Brock Rumlow was something else. Neither of you dared speak of it and you were content to just tiptoe around whatever it was.

And then once they realized they had access to your floor, it seemed like there were no boundaries. Brock and Jack dropped by a lot, but of course they always asked beforehand. If you were working, they managed to coincide their lunch break with yours, or if you were off you either cooked or ordered in to have lunch with them. They even sometimes crashed in your spare bedroom when their shifts got separated and one or the other didn't want to go to their own apartment alone.

Tony was indifferent to your weekly, sometimes daily visitors, but Pepper was wary of them because of their deep undercover stint in HYDRA. However, one particular incident had instantly warmed your sister to Brock.

It was one of your off days and a day Pepper had taken off for some much needed retail therapy when you ended up back at your place. You had stepped off the elevator, sighing in contentment and kicking off your shoes. Pepper followed suit, but then came to an abrupt halt when she spotted someone sleeping on your couch.

"Y/N, is that..?"

"Hmm." You glance in the direction she is staring, smiling softly. "Brock? Yeah. He and Jack drop in when they pull doubles and don't feel like driving to their place."

"Oh. I wasn't aware-"

"Don't make it weird, Pep. Well.. any weirder."

Pepper opens her mouth to retort, but Brock snuffling in his sleep stalls her. "Fury wants all the mangoes," he mumbles. "My mangoes."

You snort and Pepper dissolves into a bout of giggles. "He sleep talks," you tell her. "It's adorable."

The elevator dings softly, and you and your sister turn around to see a tired agent Rollins step off. He smiles politely at Pepper before stepping up to you, he giving you a one-armed hug and a kiss to your temple.

"Room free, love?"

"All yours, Rollins. I'll wake Brock."

"Thanks. Miss Potts," he then nods as he greets your sister, walking off towards your guest bedroom.

Your sister glances at you and you shrug, grinning. Then stepping around your couch, you find a small portion to sit on that's near Brock's hip and gently shake him awake. "Time to wake up, handsome. Your shift starts in ten minutes."

It takes a few moments, but Brock eventually wakes. He smiles sleepily, yawns and stretches, and then is thrown into full wakefulness when he spots your sister. He greets her formally and Pepper hides her smile, she watching him curiously as he grabs his stuff to take his leave.

"Mr. Rumlow?" Pepper calls out. She waits until he turns around. "How do you feel about mangoes?"

His nose scrunches. "Hate them. Why?"

"No reason." Pepper's faux innocence makes you cackle, she dissolving into laughter of her own when Brock frowns at your reaction.

After that day, things had been smooth sailing.

It was rare that all the ladies of the tower had the same night off, so when that time came everyone got together to relax, eat, have drinks, and talk about what's been on their minds as of late.

Pepper, Natasha, Wanda, Darcy, and Jane were well onto the third bottle of wine and settled quite comfortably in the lounge area of your apartment with music playing softly in the background. While everyone was talking and laughing, Jane was the only one distracted as she scribbled notes on a pad of paper you had tossed at her when she started scribbling on napkins.

The elevator dings and every lady calms down, turning to see who was crashing their night.

Agent Rollins steps off, yawning, and his perfectly gelled hair looking a little out of place. Everyone goes eerily quiet, but you grin at his sleepy state.

"Room open, love?" He asks, already heading towards your guest bedroom.

"Nope. But you're more than welcome to wake him and send him to mine. He's only been sleeping for three hours."

"Thanks, sheila."

As Jack disappears, the ladies all turn back towards you. You shrug innocently as Pepper hides her smile behind her glass of wine. But before anyone can say anything, a sleepy Brock walks out of your guest room in nothing but his boxer briefs. Wanda's eyes widen before she quickly averts them, Natasha appraises him quite blatantly, Darcy gapes, and even Jane stops doodling long enough to watch a half naked Brock disappear into your room.

"Agent Rumlow?" Natasha then amuses. "Nice."

"I swear it's not what it looks like," you quickly defend, chuckling.

"They're in the awkward stage," Pepper says. "It's adorable."

"Damn girl. Get some." Darcy waggles her eyebrows, Jane snorts, and you groan.

"He is quite handsome," Wanda quietly muses. "I did not know he had all those muscles."

You sigh longingly, nodding. "So many muscles."

"Mhm. What exactly are agents Rumlow and Rollins doing here?" Natasha wonders.

"They sometimes sleep here when they work double shifts." You shrug. "Brock got in just before you all showed up and Jacky's shift just ended. He prefers the mattress in the guest bedroom rather than mine and Brock, the weirdo, can sleep anywhere."

"And you're just immune to all that?" Darcy asks, waving her hand in the direction of your room.

"Mostly." Jack reappears, he too now half naked. You roll your eyes and Pepper snickers, and everyone else watches his bare back as he stumbles towards the kitchen. "All good, Jacky boy?"

Having gotten himself a glass of water, Jack chugs it before setting the glass in the sink and flashing you a thumb's up.

"How are you not climbing him like a tree?" Darcy asks, incredulous.

Your nose wrinkles in distaste. "It's Jack," you say as if that's reason enough.

"Jack's a sweetheart," Pepper tell them. "It's Brock she has to keep an eye out for. He's trouble."

"So much trouble."

The girls all giggle, but for the next two hours they forget about the men sleeping in your rooms. Then when you all decide to call it a night, Tony, Steve, Bucky, and Clint all have to be called down to escort Pepper, Darcy, Wanda, and Jane back to their rooms. Natasha is the only one capable of walking without injuring herself and it takes you longer than usual to clean-up since you have to concentrate really hard to not drop any glass.

Then after taking a brief shower and brushing your teeth, you quietly walk up to your bed. Brock is sprawled on his stomach in the middle of your bed, no sheet or blanket covering him. Before you can think about, your hand raises of it's own volition and swings down to slap Brock on the ass. He grunts and scoots over, and you climb into your side of the bed.

He climbs under the blanket with you and before you can find a position you're comfortable with, Brock reaches out for you and rearranges you so your back is to his chest. Then after moving your hair aside, he hooks his stubbled jaw over your left shoulder and pulls you close so your butt is pressed against his groin. His hand finds it's way under your shirt and you tense briefly before you feel him relax and his thumb starts to brush back and forth over the skin of your stomach.

"Comfortable?" You muse, grinning and finally relaxing.

"Mmmm. Ladies finally decided to leave?"

"Yeah. Everyone but Natasha had to be carried out."

Brock huffs a laugh. "Heard y'all talking. I'm trouble, huh?"

"You know you are," you say around a yawn. "You enjoy walking around my place half naked too much. If I weren't so tired or half drunk, I'd have probably caved tonight and got some, as Darcy would say."

"Dammit." Brock's chest shakes with suppressed laughter. "Rain check?"

"Definitely."

[remys-lucky-franc]

Return to Coney Island - An Astoria Fic - Cerberus x MC (Grace)

I got a request for some Cerberus x MC Date Fluff from the lovely @mcbatty​ :)  Thank you so much for requesting and I really, really hope you enjoy this!

Cerberus is just the sweetest, most joyous boy and I just want wrap him up in a big hug!!  (I've only read his first season!) I am a huuuuuge sucker for soft boys with sad stories.

I've written this with my MC's name (Grace) but if you'd prefer to read it with a different name, let me know and I'd be more than happy to edit it in for you.  

Word count ~1800  //  Image Credit:  http://nyc2way.blogspot.com/

No triggers or warnings on this wee fic, it's just fluffy and feel-good! <3

---

"Grace, do you need help?  What are you doing?"

Cerberus pokes his head around the door-frame, muscled arms folded  across his broad chest as he shakes his head smiling at his girl; she's packing food into a tote bag on the counter.

"You know they have places we can eat on Coney Island, right?"

Grace zips the bag up and stretches up on her toes to place a kiss on his cheek as she scoots past him towards the bedroom, calling behind her,

"I know, but I thought it would be nice to take some snacks for a beach picnic, then we can get something else later?  Plus, I'm sure you'll manage!"

Cerberus chuckles as Grace reappears in a cute cap and a pair of shades,

"I won't let the picnic go to waste, I promise.  Ready?"

Grace hands him their bag of munchies and links her arm through his as they head out of the door and towards the station.  

---

Cerberus is bouncing on his toes as the Q train arrives, energy radiating from him,

"This was a great idea, Grace!  Really cool way to spend our day off!"

Finding a seat on the busy carriage, their knees bump as the train starts to move.  Cerberus intertwines his fingers with Grace's as she murmurs,

"I thought it would be nice to go back and just have a good time?  When we went before we were on the look out for...  You know..."

Cerberus looks stoic for a few moments, finally commenting,

"We weren't even 'together' yet, last time when we came here."

Grace nods happily as she squeezes his hand,

"But we are now."

The train speeds through Brooklyn towards their destination as Cerberus helps himself to the club sandwiches that Grace packed, laughing as she rolls her eyes, telling him that they were supposed to be for the beach.

Time flies as they chat about work, ideas for vacation and future dates.  Before they know it, an hour has passed and they're ready to disembark at Stillwell Avenue.  Heading out of the station, Cerberus wraps an arm around Grace's waist, planting a soft kiss on the top of her denim hat as he squeezes her close for a few steps, his arms remaining draped around her as they walk.  Grace feels a blush colouring her cheeks at the casual intimacy of his touch: she loves the way he wants to be close to her always, how affectionate he is.

Reaching the beach at the east side of Luna Park, Cerberus lays down a round beach blanket printed to look like a pepperoni pizza, placing their picnic bag down at the end before plopping himself in the middle.  Beaming up at Grace as she pulls a bottle of sunscreen out of her purse, waggling it in his direction, he stretches, pulling the dark grey t-shirt over his head, laughing and taking the bottle from his girl.     Grace stealthily admires his frame from  behind the camouflage of her sunglasses, taking the bottle back, applying some to her arms and sprawling down on the giant pizza beside him.  Grace delves into the bag, tossing a bag of potato chips to Cerberus who catches them effortlessly.  Grace sets up a little speaker on the blanket and connects the 'Day at the Beach' playlist she created especially for today while Cerberus happily tosses chips into his mouth, tapping his foot to the beat, watching  the world go by.  They lie there people-watching, watching the shapes of the clouds in the sky change, soaking in the atmosphere and the sunshine for a while before Grace spots a vendor selling watermelon.  She grabs her purse, ruffling Cerberus' shaggy brown hair then jumping to her feet,

"Wait here!  I'll be right back!"  

Cerberus shakes his head and fixes the hair that Grace mussed up as he watches her jog effortlessly across the sand, his heart  swelling as he watches her.  As she disappears from his line of sight, he takes out his phone and checks the group chat he has with his brothers, waiting for her to return.  Before he's realised, she's back, carrying two watermelons with neon straws in them!  A peal of laughter rings out of Cerberus as he looks at the giddy grin on her face,

"What did you get?!"

Grace giggles as she hands him one, sitting down cross-legged opposite him,

"Try it!!"

Cerberus cocks his head to the side, watching her bright eyes dance with mischief, before taking a big slurp through the straw, blinking hard as he swallows and lets out a small cough,

"That's...  Pretty strong stuff, Grace..."

She beams at him as she takes a dainty sip,

"They scoop out all the watermelon, then blend it with ice and vodka and put it back inside!"

He takes another sip, acknowledging,

"It pack a punch but it's really tasty!  Hey, come here, let's send Orthrus and Nemean a selfie?"

Grace shifts herself so that her back is  against Cerberus' chest as he stretches his arm out, making sure both of them, and their tropical-looking vodka watermelons are in the shot,

"Say, 'Watermelon!'..."

Cerberus laughs heartily as he presses his cheek against hers, snapping the shot as they mouth in unison,

"Watermelon!"

He grins, wide and white, as he sends it, then sets it as his lock screen wallpaper.

---

After having enough sunbathing, Cerberus and Grace gather their belongings, strolling hand in hand along the bustling boardwalk, feeling slightly tipsy from the spiked slushie.  Cerberus pulls Grace towards the carnival games, a flash of excitement in his eyes, spotting the Strongman Game, and the variety of stuffed animals hanging up for the winner...  Grace wraps her arms around him from behind as he stops in front of the game, grinning at the attendant.  He pays the fee and accepts the mallet, staring at the bell, twenty feet in the air.  Graces stands back as he effortlessly swings the mallet in a perfect arc, clean and high, landing squarely on the lever.  The puck flies up the tower striking the bell hard!  Cerberus drops the mallet with a ‘woop’, gathering Grace in his arms and spinning her around and around in the air as she squeals and giggles.  He kisses her as he places her back on the ground, gesturing toward the prizes,

"Which is your favourite, Grace?"

She shrugs her shoulders, scrunching her nose as she answers, sounding almost shy,

"You're my favourite. You choose?"

Cerberus' mouth opens like he's about to say something, but he just winks at her instead, turning towards the attendant, reappearing moments later with the biggest, fluffiest, plush bear Grace has ever seen!  The bear is so large, that he's almost obscured behind it, his head poking around from behind it, cracking up with laughter,

"Did I pick well??  Do you like him??"

Grace wraps her arms around the bear and her boyfriend, laughing so hard there are tears in her eyes,

"Like him?!  I love him!!  And I love you!!"

Cerberus beams as he tries to manoeuver the bear out of the way, with somewhat limited success, to kiss Grace,

"What shall we call him??"

Grace, running her fingers through the bears soft fur, winks at Cerberus as she speaks,

"He's big and soft and snuggly,  just like you.  How about Bear-berus?"

Cerberus disintegrates into hysterics,

"Bear-berus it is!"

---

After playing various other funfair games, Grace smirks at a blushing Cerberus when his stomach growls loudly,

"You wanna get some food?"

He nods quickly as Grace catches his fingers in hers, dancing across the boardwalk towards Nathan's.  The diner is jam-packed and loud with a jukebox playing and patrons laughing and joking, enjoying their day at the beach.  Cerberus, Bear-berus and Grace squeeze into a booth together, ordering a couple of their famous Chilli Dogs with fries and a large chocolate milkshake to share.  She smiles softly as she watches Cerberus tuck into the food:  she loves being with him.  Everything about his is so genuine, so honest.  He makes her feel like she can do anything when they're together.  She feels so lucky to have him.  

Grace has barely touched hers by the time his is gone, and he's ordering a second portion of fries.  His face colours as she tries to hold back a chuckle,

"I knew a portion to share wouldn't be enough!"

Cerberus drains at least a quarter of the milkshake before grinning at her up at her,

"I think Bear-berus ate most of them when we weren't looking...  You know, we should come back here next time Orthrus, Nemean and I all have the day off:  they'd love this."

Grace laughs,

"We may have to call in advance to make sure they have enough food!"

---

Leaving Nathan's, the couple call into the hall of mirrors on their way to the Ferris wheel, giggling and pulling faces at each other in the distorted glass.  Tears roll down Grace's cheeks as they stop in front of one particular mirror that makes her look tall and broad and Cerberus short and skinny, crushed under the weight of the giant fluffy bear; she pulls out her cellphone, snapping a photo of their hilarious reflection and sending it to May.  

Finally arriving at the Ferris wheel, they join the slowly moving queue.  Cerberus toys with Grace's ponytail,

"Last time when we got to the top we never got to enjoy the view, we were so busy looking for Thanatos."

She nods,

"You're right.  But this time, we can really enjoy it properly!"

Bending down, Cerberus kisses Grace gently,

"I enjoy everything when we're together, Grace.  Even the stuff that shouldn't be fun, like queueing."

Grace pulls his lips back to hers,

"Same."

When they reach the front of the queue, Cerberus jokes with the attendant that he needs three tickets:  one for him, one for Grace and one for the bear.  The attendant smiles, telling him that anyone that cute gets on for free.  He beams joyously as he quips,

"Hey Grace, you're so cute you get to ride for free, we only need to pay for me and Bear-berus!"  

Tugging Grace's hand they find their seat and are secured in place by the attendant before they soar into the sky.  Cerberus swings his dangling legs as they near the top, breathing in the fresh air as he turns to Grace,

"This has been a perfect day!"

Grace's head lolls against his shoulder as she sighs contentedly,

"Mmmh-hmmm..."

Cerberus' bright eyes smile as he tips her chin up to look at him, his thumb rubbing over her knuckles,

"You're the best thing that ever happened to me."

Grace reaches up stroking his cheek tenderly , her eyes flitting between his amber eyes and the warm curve of his lips,  

"I love you."

Cerberus closes the distance between them, whispering against Grace's lips,

"I love you too."

They settle there, happy and comfortable with each other, enjoying the view as they sail through the sky together:  a perfect end to a perfect date.

[alphabees-writes]

Glee - S1 E7 (Throwdown)

I haven’t done this for a while, and literally nobody asked, but I’ve finished most of my degree and I need something to do in quarantine! So, I’m granting myself little a shitting on Ryan Murphy. As a treat. 

Ok so right off the bat I’m pretty sure this is the “you’re all minorities” episode, and I’m placing a bet with myself. If I’m right about it, I get ice cream when I finish. Wish me luck!

Wow, for the first time, I actually needed the re-cap. I be like, wow, so THAT’S what I missed on Glee...

Sue’s fake laugh when Will touches her arm is relatable because I, too, would want to cry if he did that to me,

“It’s glee club, not krunk club” Wow thanks Netflix subtitles I thought it was spelled crunk. Also, Mercedes, please do take season 1 Rachel to the carpet. Please.

Sign #29 That Mr Schuester Is An Asshole: He asks what the kids want to do, and then tells Mike that his dancing is “not really what we’re going for,” like ok, so you’re not going for TALENT? He doesn’t even give the boy a chance!

Sue’s pink tracksuit is wild.

Why does Figgins care about the plans for sectionals. Doesn’t he want glee club to fail?

Figgins is the real antagonist of the glee club for forcing anybody to hug Will. Yes, Sue is a criminal, but even she doesn’t deserve this.

“I’m about to vomit down your back” me too queen.

“Whatever Quinn wants is fine” Finn... You deserve better than LIES.

“No mutations... Not even any cool ones” why is THIS making me emotional about Cory? Finn just being a vulnerable kid in this scene... He’s so scared. 

Why is Mr Schue taking them to the OB-GYN...

Jacob hitting on Rachel genuinely makes me squirm. Like, I don’t find his character or these scenes funny one bit. 

I ONLY JUST NOTICED... When Sue calls the glee club “mouth breathers” Kurt snaps his mouth shut all of a sudden. It’s a split-second cutaway but I love it. 

Sue not knowing what a piano is? Iconic.

Sign #30 That Mr Schuester Is An Asshole:  He gets mad at Sue for saying she wants the minority students to feel heard. I know that she’s trying to manipulate them, but like... Let them have a solo Will.

Kendra is a fucking anti-vax wow

I literally can’t talk about this Jacob thing because the p-word makes me SQUIRM. I HATE IT.

He gallops away though it’s an interesting choice.

Like say what you want about Sue in general but she’s RIGHT here, Will fails these kids and she’s genuinely showing them a great time for now. 

Hate On Me is a BOP. Amber kills it with every god damn number...

MIKE! GETS! TO! POP! AND! LOCK!

Kurt’s fuzzy sweater is such a look. I just want to pet it!!!

Kurt actually joining in with the dancing... AND MIKE AND MATT JOINING HIS MOVE... IT’S SO CUTE!!!

They’re having so much fun. God I adore these kids.

Sign #31 That Mr Schuester Is An Asshole: He complains about Sue taking up “his time” with the kids, but he wasn’t fucking there? And hey, asshole, they actually had FUN for once!

Sue is dangerous Will, but at least she has TASTE.

...She is a straight up abusive person though and I do not vibe

Terri straight up pushing Will to make bad choices! Fun!

Quinn being like one of five Cheerios that passed Spanish is wild.

“Your psychosexual derrangement would be fascinating Will if it WEREN’T SO TERRIFYING!” Iconic

To Game. Iconic

Oh, fun! Racism. 

Please sue him, Sue. Destroy him.

Figgins posting his own stockings commercial online? Iconic

“Let me break it down for you... Nobody cares!” Iconic

SUE’S FIRST TEMPER TANTRUM?

Drizzle. 

Finn wanted to name a baby,

D R I Z Z L E 

“I read that Gwenyth Paltrow named her baby Apple and I think that’s so cool, because you know how much I love apples, right?” Baby boy...

Ride Wit Me... Look at these kids having ACTUAL FUN SINGING TOGETHER!!! WILLIAM SHOESTIR TAKE NOTES!!!

You can hear them actually laughing together and I’m w e a k...

Santana and Brittany just hugged and it was so tender my heart wiggled

Sign #31 That Mr Schuester Is An Asshole: He literally IGNORES Quinn when she objects to being a back-up singer YET AGAIN...

I hate this number. It’s one where the backing singers sound nothing like the characters who are back-up singing... And there’s barely any back-up anyway.

Just had a thought while I tune out this shit number... Sue recruits Puck because he’s Jewish, but not Rachel? I mean, I know it’s strategic, but... Eh.

Quinn calling him the fuck out... QUEEN.

No Air put my flatmate to sleep. She’s literally snoring. 

Sign #32 That Mr Schuester Is An Asshole: Yes you were at work all day but that’s no reason to GRAB YOUR WIFE BY THE WRIST because she hasn’t made dinner...

Sign #33 That Mr Schuester Is An Asshole: Yes you should be able to go to the OB-GYN with your wife but like... Don’t book an appointment for her without asking???

Sign #34 That Mr Schuester Is An Asshole: “I can’t do a song with three kids” he says, when only 2 of those kids sang any actual lines in the first place.

...WHY is Dr Wu telling them about his bonsai? I appreciate it. I love a good bonsai. But like... What conversation did we just cut into?

Kendra is so awful it’s hilarious. Like, her terribleness makes her funny. TAKE NOTES JACOB.

The eye contact between Quinn and Rachel as she yells at her... Oof. They’re not being nice to each other, but chemistry is chemistry. 

“You obviously have a lot you need to express” “Oh, you have no idea” and then she SPINS INTO THE NUMBER... Quinn more like Queen

Quinn outside Sue’s window, singing at her begging her to set her free... To let her make a new start... God my heart hurts. I love Quinn!!!

Keep Me Hangin’ On is a bop. It’s not the best for her voice, but I still love what she does with it.

Maybe my gay ass is just obsessed with the dancing. Who knows? (I knows. My gay ass is obsessed with the dancing.)

Quinn stood in the front alongside Finn and Rachel as if Will actually gave her any lines...

Mercedes’ dad is a dentist. You heard it here first folks.

Sign #35 That Mr Schuester Is An Asshole: You’re a TEACHER. You can’t THROW SHIT AROUND whenever somebody makes you mad. Yes, this also applies to Sue - but at least she’s hilariously ridiculous when she does it!!!

Sign #36 That Mr Schuester Is An Asshole: Yes, Sue sucks, but telling her she’s going to spend her life alone??? Fuck off???

“Those of us who still have two parents” Finnnnnnn

The kids: Hey, we’re more than just minorities!  Will at the end of this episode: Mmm, are you though?

“Did it fall off” No, but I wish yours would Will.

“Why do I feel like I’m about to fall through a trap door into a pit of fire” God William I wish you would!!!

YOU’RE ALL MINORITIES... [camera focus on a black student, and a gay student] Y O U ‘ R E I N T H E G L E E C L U B

2009 really was a different time

Sue be like: Quinn FAH-bray

This scene of Quinn sobbing in Finn’s arms and him just... Trying so hard to console her... Emotions. EMOTIONS.

KEEP HOLDING ON... Why did they give the female solo to Rachel in this song when Quinn doesn’t really like her, if this number’s really for her. Surely it’d be Finn and Santana, or Brittany, since they’re her closest friends in the club at this point???

KURT AND QUINN SPINNING TOGETHER... I love the few scenes we get of them together. And it’s a CRIME that they never got a full duet. They could’ve been hilarious friends to watch.

Oh god... Just... A close up of Quinn Fabray crying. Kill me why don’t you???

[emmerrr]

let’s try this again shall we? also that should say ‘single level’ not single reference, i had fixed that typo before i posted and lost the original but never mind

-

It’s a while before Ronan notices, to be honest.

Socks just aren’t something he pays that much attention to; his own, or anyone else’s. They’re just...there. He doesn’t even really have a specific sock drawer. It’s more of a mixed bag drawer, full of sweatpants, PJs, boxers, and socks. His only prerequisite when reaching for socks in the morning is that there’s two of them. Whether or not they match is irrelevant.

So when Adam, home for the summer, mentions that he thinks some of his socks are going missing, Ronan doesn’t think too much about it.

“You sure you didn’t just leave them in the drier?”

“Pretty sure. I checked, and then I double-checked.”

“Oh well, I’m sure they’ll turn up,” Ronan says, then drags Adam’s attention back to more important things, like making out on the sofa for hours.

A couple of weeks later, Adam brings it up again, and Ronan tries to suggest other explanations.

“Maybe you accidentally left a bunch of socks at college?”

“Not a chance. They’re getting washed and dried as pairs, but when I come to empty the machine, a sock from each pair has gone, every single time. I’m gonna run out at this rate, I’ll have to get more.”

“You can always wear mine, Parrish, I don’t care. Or I’ll dream you up some new ones, easy-peasy.”

Adam frowns. “Yeah, I guess. It’s just...weird. It’s only my socks. I don’t get it.”

Strange as it is, Ronan still thinks weirder things have happened to them, so again it doesn’t rank too high on his list of priorities. It’s just one of those things, an unexplainable story to laugh about in the future.

After one afternoon spent working in one of the barns outside, Ronan returns to the house in the early evening and heads straight for the kitchen. Adam has returned from work, and is standing with his back to Ronan, leaning on the counter before him and watching the coffee machine do its thing.

He’s clearly been back a while, because he’s wearing sweats and a baggy t-shirt, and he’s had a shower and a nap if the way his hair’s sticking up on one side is anything to go by. But it’s his socks that immediately draw Ronan’s eye.

On Adam’s left foot is a sock in the colours of the bi pride flag, and on his right is a sock of Ronan’s, a red one patterned with multi-coloured dinosaurs. They were a Christmas gift from Matthew.

Adam doesn’t immediately realise Ronan’s there what with the coffee machine gurgling away, but as Ronan pads over he senses him a second before he reaches him, turning his face a half-inch and smiling.

Ronan tugs lightly at the sleep-stretched neck of Adam’s t-shirt and presses a lingering kiss to his bare shoulder, before wrapping his arms around him. “You look so fucking adorable,” he murmurs into Adam’s hearing ear.

Adam doesn’t verbally respond but he melts into Ronan a little, tilting his neck to allow access for Ronan to kiss a line down it the way he knows Adam likes.

“Nice socks,” he says, and it’s this that finally prompts Adam into actually speaking.

He turns around and lifts up his bi-stocking-ed foot. “See!” he exclaims. “The other one’s disappeared. I now don’t have any matching pairs of socks in this house and there is definitely a conspiracy at play.”

Ronan snorts. “Yeah, okay, this is getting pretty weird,” he allows.

Adam narrows his eyes. “This isn’t you, is it?”

“Huh?”

“The socks, Ronan. Is it you?”

“Adam, why the fuck would I steal your socks?”

“...Yeah, okay,” Adam says, visibly deflating. “I didn’t think you had a foot fetish as well as a hand kink.”

“Hey.” Ronan lightly pokes the tip of Adam’s nose. “Rude.”

“Sorry.” Adam sighs. “I just...I really, really don’t understand what could have happened to them.”

“Have you tried asking your tarot cards?”

“You’re hilarious, you know that?”

“I try.”

The rest of the summer passes in a wonderful blur, far too quickly but with as much fun and love as they can possibly squeeze into the days. No more of Adam’s socks go missing, but he refuses to replace any until he gets back to college, not wanting to risk them going walkabout at the Barns.

The day before he’s due to leave, he has one final shift at Boyd’s, an easy afternoon of oil changes for one last influx of cash. His bag is packed and waiting by the door in the hallway so it can be easily thrown into the car in the morning.

Ronan’s in the kitchen preparing a farewell feast worthy of champions when he hears the sound of something heavy being dragged across the floor coming from the hallway. He stops chopping potatoes and follows the sound, stepping through the doorway just in time to catch sight of Adam’s duffel bag being pulled up the stairs.

He rounds the corner so he’s standing at the bottom of the stairs and looks up to see that it’s Opal who’s making off with Adam’s bag. She freezes when she spots Ronan, drops the bag strap and darts the rest of the way upstairs to her room, slamming the door behind her.

Sighing, Ronan puts Adam’s bag back by the door and then follows Opal up the stairs.

He knocks on her door. “Opal?” No response. “I’m coming in, okay?”

He hesitates just in case she decides she doesn’t want him there, but when there’s still no reply he opens the door and scans the room.

He doesn’t immediately see her and feels a brief flare of panic that she might have escaped out the window (an alarming prospect as they’re on the second floor), but then he spots her sitting in the corner, facing the wall and covering her face with her hands.

She looks like she’s put herself in a time-out. Or that she’s counting for a game of hide-and-seek.

Ronan sits on the edge of her bed. “Opal. Look at me.”

At length, she lowers her hands and turns, pinning him with those big eyes, wide and unblinking.

“Why were you trying to hide Adam’s bag?”

“Because he can’t leave if he can’t find it,” she says slowly, as if she thinks he’s being very dim-witted on purpose.

“But he’s gotta go back to college. You know that.”

She shakes her head adamantly. “He went to college last year.”

“Right, but we talked about this, remember? It’s four years. And he’s already done one now.”

“Three more,” she says sadly.

“I know. It sounds long. But it’ll be like last year. He’ll go and then he’ll come back.”

She crosses her arms, petulant. “So long...”

“It feels like it sometimes, yeah, but that’s why we call him, and why we visit, and why he comes home as much as he can.”

Ronan understands separation anxiety all too well. It’s hard to comfort Opal when he feels very much the same. But he supposes one of them has to be the adult in this particular situation, and the task has fallen unenviably to him.

Opal finally deigns to come and sit next to him. “Won’t he miss us?” she asks quietly.

“Course he will, we’re fucking awesome,” Ronan says, and Opal finally quirks a smile. “But he’s worked really hard for this and he’s learning loads of cool stuff at college. So we can’t hide his stuff even though we’re gonna miss him, okay?”

Opal sighs. “Okay.” She hops down and reaches under her bed, pulling out a cardboard box. “Do you think he’ll need these as well?”

Ronan peers inside to see that the box is full of socks. Adam’s socks, to be exact. Mystery solved.

He bursts out laughing, and it’s a while before he gets his breath back to speak. “Did you think Adam wouldn’t be able to go back if none of his socks matched?”

“What else is the point of matching socks?” she asks, genuinely curious, and this sets Ronan off again.

“Ohhh, brat,” he says, wrapping an arm around her. “Don’t ever change.”

Adam is both pleased and confused when he gets home and is presented with his missing socks.

“Where did you find them?”

“Uhhh...” Ronan stalls, looking to Opal, unsure of how much she wants him to say, or if she even cares at all.

Adam notices the exchange and smiles at her. “Was it you who found them?”

Opal nods slowly. “They were...out...side,” she says unconvincingly. “I think Chainsaw took them.” Then she nods emphatically, happy with this excuse considering Chainsaw won’t be able to defend her own honour. “It was Chainsaw.”

Ronan supposes that just because he doesn’t lie, doesn’t mean Opal’s incapable. Adam smiles again, and there’s something knowing and wistful in it. He can likely now guess that Opal’s the true culprit, but he won’t call her out on it. He’s good like that.

“Well thank you,” he says, straightening Opal’s skull-cap. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Opal beams and kisses the back of his hand before scampering off outside to torment the local wildlife or whatever else she does for fun.

Adam steps into Ronan’s orbit and kisses him, slow and gentle. “I don’t know what I’d do without you either,” he murmurs.

Ronan grins at that. “I think you should only wear odd socks from here on out.”

“Y’know what, it’s grown on me.”

[ilovemygaydad]

title: thievery and trickery

the unneeded sequel to yeah, no

summary: (again, a totally cursed crack fic) as deceit’s things start to go missing, he must venture into the light side to retrieve them. unfortunately, a former acquaintance is finding it the perfect opportunity to make him uncomfortable

pairing: one-sided roceit

warnings: spoilers for dwit, deceit, remus (once), ambiguously sympathetic deceit (it could go either way tbh), lots of sexual innuendos, suggestive language, swearing, frustration, yelling, anger, teasing, intentionally making someone uncomfortable, virgil is a major asshole, caps, implied sexual attraction, embarrassment, and possibly something else

@royallyanxious, since you asked to be tagged

special thanks to @fandomsandanythingelse for being my consultant on this

consider buying me a coffee (god knows i need it after this)

---

Deceit didn’t entirely remember why he had needed to venture into the lighter side of the Mindscape in the first place. It had been something to do with Virgil, that much was sure. Probably retrieving something that had been taken to the Light Side without permission that Deceit had tasked himself to retrieve. He couldn’t remember.

He did remember that he had entered the Light Side and immediately went to the nearest door to find good old Anxiety, only to find the room devoid of the side. Naturally, Deceit had gone further in, hoping to catch Virgil to complete his task. As he walked down the long hallway to the stairs, he checked the game room and the memory vault in case Virgil, for some unknown reason, had decided to skulk around like the emo disaster that he was.

Still nothing.

Deceit had sighed. He loathed having to go into the Light Sides’ common room. They were all, quite frankly, very rude to his person, and Roman was always there being his usual, pretty annoying self. However, he had a goal that needed to be fulfilled, so he trudged down the stairs with only a bit of a pout.

And the second that Deceit stepped into the commons, he knew that he was absolutely, royally fucked.

Because of course Roman chose this day of all days to drape himself on the couch like a god damned living painting. Sure, Creativity was in his normal outfit, but that didn’t make Deceit’s mind go any less haywire. For the briefest moment, Deceit’s mind flashed with all of the other, much better places that he’d like to see Roman in that position, but he put a harsh clamp over them faster than he could say his own name. He’d been assaulted by Remus enough for merely flirting with Roman in the courtroom doing his job; there was exactly zero way in hell that his ass wouldn’t get kicked if any of his stray thoughts ended up in Remus’ hands.

Not to mention that in the corner of the room, staring right at him was Virgil freaking Sanders with the same shit-eating grin that Deceit used to love seeing. The sickeningly sweet smile that foretold mischief.

Yeah.

Deceit was fucked, and he wouldn’t even have finished whatever the hell it was that he’d come to the Light Side to do!

“I don’t need something from you, Virgil,” he said regardless of his forgetting. There needed to be a reason for him to come here, or the others would get suspicious. Lying was what he did best, after all.

“No, of course not,” Virgil said. “You need it from someone else.” His eyes flicked subtly to Roman, who wasn’t paying any attention to the conversation, and back.

Deceit flushed. “That is what I meant.”

“No? I suppose it wouldn’t have been a need so much as a want, right?” He smirked; darkness glinted in his eyes with every word. “My mistake.”

“Oooh!” Roman said suddenly, looking up at the two. “Virgil messed up?”

“Wha—Do you only ever listen to make fun of me, Princey?” Virgil’s smirk turned into a scowl.

“I was merely surprised that you admitted to a wrongdoing. That’s a rare feat.”

“Dude, whatever.” Virgil stood up and walked to the stairs. “I’m gonna do some activities to work out my newfound frustration.” Then, just as he passed by Deceit, he winked and whispered innocently, “Maybe you should, too.”

“I will never understand him,” Roman sighed as he watched Virgil climb the stairs. “I do hope that he paints today, though. His pieces are always more interesting when he’s worked up.”

“Yeah,” Deceit laughed weakly. Without another word, he turned and left.

---

Life had a really fucking funny way of messing with Deceit. Hilarious, one might say.

To him, it was genuinely devastating.

Not three days after his little incident with Virgil, he was forced to go back to the Light Side because another one of his things went missing, and the first still hadn’t been returned. Undoubtedly, Virgil was making some attempt at payback for the courtroom by stealing his precious belongings (you didn’t just steal a guy’s heated blanket--that was cruel). Deceit just wished that he’d get his fill of revenge in a more tasteful way like salt in the sugar bag or bugs in his pasta.

Once again, Virgil wasn’t in his new room, and Deceit was forced to go to the commons. Where, once again and just to his luck, he was greeted by Virgil and Roman. Creativity was sitting on the floor, flipping through a book of jungle animals, and Virgil was next to him, pointing at the ones that looked cool. 

Deceit was unsure if either had noticed his presence until Virgil placed his hand on a page with a yellow and black snake. “What do you think about snakes, Ro?”

“Oh! I think they’re rather magnificent creatures! A truly misunderstood and beautiful animal indeed.”

“Uh huh. Y’ever touched one?”

Roman squinted his eyes, obviously trying to scan his memory for a time that he might have. His eyes seemed to have finally noticed Deceit, and he sent a small wave over before replying, “No, I don’t believe that I have.”

Deceit moved to the kitchen. He didn’t want Roman to think that he was staring or being weird.

Virgil looked over his shoulder at Deceit with a smug expression. “Do you want to touch one?”

Deceit had never been so close to dropping dead on the spot.

“I mean, why not?” Roman said, starting to flip pages again. “Their scales look so smooth, and I’m sure that they’re lovely to hold. Oh, and they do that little blep thing, which is just terribly adorable.”

“I’m sure that snakes would think that you were adorable, too.” The smile on Virgil’s face held a saccharine sweetness as he mouthed ‘Don’t you?’ at Deceit.

Roman cooed, and the anxious side turned his head at the exact second that Roman glanced back over at him. “Aw, Virgil! That’s so sweet of you to say.”

“It’s no big deal,” he muttered, feigning embarrassment.

“No, it’s really nice of you to say. Even Deceit would agree, right?” Creativity turned an eager smile to Deceit, who nearly flinched at the sudden attention.

“No. It isn’t nice,” he managed to choke out.

“See! You’re a nice guy, Virge.” Roman turned back to his book once more.

“Yeah.” Virgil innocently grinned at Deceit. “I guess that I am.”

---

The other things, Deceit could cut his losses and live without. He had extra blankets, and he had extra socks, but this? This was just plain criminal. 

What the fuck kind of a guy stole someone else’s snake?!

And it wasn’t just the snake herself! Virgil had taken the entire terrarium, all of Deceit’s supplies, and the entire freezer’s worth of food. If he weren’t so fucking pissed, Deceit would have been proud of the scheme.

“Virgil,” he growled as he pounded on the anxious side’s door. “Don’t give her back.”

The door opened, and Deceit almost lost it when he saw Virgil with Daisy on his shoulders, smiling softly. “What’s that?”

Angry venom dripped from Deceit’s words. “Don’t. Give. Her. Back.”

“Oh,” Virgil said. “Yeah, of course.” He snapped his fingers, and all of the snake stuff that had been littered behind him disappeared. 

Deceit was infinitely jealous that the laws of reality didn’t hit as hard in the Light Side as they did in the Dark Side. The only one who could summon things while in the Dark Side was Remus, and no one wanted to ask him for things. It had taken Deceit three weeks of fighting tooth and nail to get Roman to give him Daisy. It had been the worst three weeks of his entire life.

“And the snake?”

Virgil shook his head, softly. “Yeah, sorry. I thought you’d want to take her home with you, so I didn’t snap her with.” He gently lifted Daisy from his shoulders and placed her in a small heap in Deceit’s hands.

Deceit knew that he should be happy. His baby had been returned with little resistance, and he could go back to some normalcy, but at the same time, something was up. Virgil hadn’t been this cordial in... well, ever. 

“Right...” He looked at his wrist as Daisy slowly curled her way into a sentient serpentine bracelet. “Well, I’m gonna--”

“Oh my goodness! Is that the snake I summoned for your room?”

Virgil gasped, but Deceit could see the mischief in his eyes. “You summoned this cutie? I was just about to ask Deceit where he got her.”

No, you weren’t, you lying bastard.

“I almost forgot about her. How is she? Does she have a name?” Roman’s voice was gleeful, and it just made Deceit want to run away.

“Her name isn’t Daisy,” he said as he turned to speak to Creativity. “And she’s doing terribly.”

“Wow.” Roman looked completely starstruck. “Wow. I’ve never held a snake before; can I hold yours?”

It was subtle—it could barely be construed as something even minutely sexual—yet Deceit saw Virgil’s surprised smile at the unknowing bait. With full intentions to rush away, he stuttered, “Oh, um, I don’t know...”

“Hush,” Virgil drawled, pushing just a bit too hard on Deceit’s shoulder to be considered friendly. “Let him hold your snake.”

“She’s just too cute, Deceit! Please?”

Slowly, the side in question nodded and slipped Daisy off of his wrist. With the utmost care, he placed the coil in Roman’s hands. It honestly couldn’t get any worse.

Daisy lazily slithered her way up and around Roman’s arm, raising her tiny head right in front of Roman’s. Her little tongue darted out and touched his nose. Roman let out a tiny giggle.

The moment was swiftly ruined for Deceit by Virgil saying, “You know, I’ve never seen her like that except in Deceit’s hand. She just isn’t that perky on her own.”

“Ha ha,” Deceit said with fake enthusiasm. “Virgil, you are so funny! May I please have Daisy back so that I can go back to my room?”

“Of course,” Roman murmured as the snake was taken back. “She’s beautiful. May I visit her some time?”

Virgil latched his arm around Roman’s shoulders. “I’m sure she would be very happy if you did! Right, Deceit?”

“No.”

“Perfect!” Virgil began to lead the prince away. “Goodbye!”

“Bye...”

—-

“Roman, I need to be honest with you,” Virgil said a few minutes later. They were on the couch watching reruns of Parks and Rec, and Roman was still being very happy about his new snake friend.

“What about?”

“Well...” Virgil didn’t exactly know how to break the news. “The last few times that we’ve hung out, I was using you—“

“What—“

“Just to get back at Deceit! It was just so I could make him uncomfortable, okay?”

Roman’s eyebrows furrowed. “Make him uncomfortable how?”

“He has this massive crush on you, and I found out about it right after the courtroom thing, so I’ve been using you and your pretty, unaware face to form, uh... innuendos? I was stealing some of his stuff so he’d come to our side of the Mindscape, and I made sure to be with you.” Virgil laughed awkwardly, hoping Roman wouldn’t hate him forever for his evil scheme.

“You... you’re kidding, right? Deceit is thirsty for me? I mean, I know that I’m a snack and a half, but him?”

“Yeah.”

Roman looked at Virgil with a disbelieving expression. “And you used me to get into his head?”

“Mhmm. A couple of well timed questions here, your idiocy sprinkled in every so often... Poor guy was outie in less than five minutes.” Virgil smirked, resting his head on the back of the couch. “Thanks, by the way.”

“Man,” Roman laughed. “I can’t believe we vanquished Deceit so quickly, and all it took was him having a simple crush on me!”

“SO HE DOES WANT TO FUCK YOU?!” Remus screeched from his new perch on top of the kitchen table.

The two sides on the couch screamed. Well, nothing was truly a perfect solution...

[gwoongi]

𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗎𝗌 ✰ taehyung (3)

𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗎𝗌 kim taehyung / reader genre: zombie apocalypse au words: 5114

“This won’t be forever, Y/N,” he said, with such a sincere and genuine voice that you felt your stomach knot and churn, a lump forming in your throat. Suddenly you need another drink of water. “You won’t be sad forever.”

warnings: graphic content, death references, gore, swearing, dark themes

a/n: some people really might dislike the flashback additions i add, but they’re pretty much there to add context to the situation + to also develop the characters more, without me adding unnecessary dialogue or details which will slow each scene. omg also a note, (potential writer bias here), but y/n is a very . troubled character, and so she really isn’t this “strong unaffected leader”, she has some issues + i hope the story reflects these issues respectfully ((bc i worked rlly hard))

01. denver ↝ 02. holiday with me ↝ 03. sad forever ↝ 04. surely ↝ 05. scorpion ↝ 06. shakespeare

5 WEEKS LATER.

At nobody’s surprise, the car ran out of gas around three days after Oklahoma. Since leaving the car on the side of the road in the middle of Oklahoma, it had been just Taehyung and yourself, walking the open road, deprived of water and a place to sleep. It was impossible to tell where you were now, walking like biters yourselves, staggering across the dusty roads.

Waking to the sound of refreshing birdsong, you squinted in the tawny sunlight. Rolling your head to your shoulder, your gaze landed on Taehyung crouched before you, the back of his hand pressed against your forehead worriedly, a frown etched to his lips.

You yawned, and he moved away his hand. “You’ve got a fever.”

A shaky laugh left your lips. “Ain’t that funny.”

His boots shifted on the gravel of the floor inside the multi storey car-park, your back leaned against the graffiti covered wall. A halo above your head in yellow spray-paint, Taehyung figured you looked pretty despite looking as you’d expect in an apocalypse. Though, he didn’t bet that he looked any better.

“Tired?” he asked, cocking his head to look at you as he zipped up his backpack.

“My legs hurt,” you admitted quietly, voice hoarse. “Thirsty.”

“Me too,” Taehyung muttered, stroking hairs away from your damp forehead. “We’ll find somewhere to stay, I promise, and I’ll find us something to drink. Just...don’t close your eyes, okay? Try and stay awake for me, okay?”

Keeping your eyes open as he helped lift you off the floor felt like the most impossible thing in an impossible world. “I’m gonna die from dehydration. Isn’t that hilarious?”

He grunted, supporting your weight. “We can’t afford to think like that.”

“‘m gonna die on you,” you continued, attempting to walk without his help. “I’m the leader and I’ve led you to death.”

“Don’t think like that,” Taehyung replied, out of breath slightly as he carried himself and your weight down a short flight of stairs. Despite being your companion crossing the country, he wasn’t sure if he was comfortable enough calling you a friend, yet. There was a tension, an unspoken thing between the two of you - a refusal to get to know each other, but an urge to know everything at once. Taehyung never asked questions, feeling he wasn’t close enough to get the answers. Still, same as before, he needed you to survive, and you needed him, now more than ever. “You can’t let it guilt you. Stop talking, it’s gonna wear you out. Just stay quiet and keep walking, okay? I’m right here.”

“I’m the worst leader.”

“Nu-huh. You’re the best leader, okay? You’ve got us so far. Don’t give up now, come on.”

Heaving himself forwards through the closed iron door, a flood of light made you grimace with a loud hiss, bringing your sleeve to cover your eyes as Taehyung carried you across the length of the car-park. Occasionally he would stumble, jumping you back up straight with an arm around his shoulders, your legs giving away and dragging like a doll across the concrete.

“Hey, hey, stay awake, okay?” Taehyung said, his voice more frantic now, as he crouched his head to look at your face closer. The sweat had opened up your pores, and your dark circles were even more prominent as a feature of your face. He didn’t mind. “Eyes on me, Y/N. Can you hear me?”

An incoherent grumble was good enough and he cursed softly, walking quicker across the park, his breaths laboured and a line of sweat building up at his hairline, his fringe sticking like mixture to a bowl to his forehead. Each step was followed with a breathless, “please,”, his fingers tightening on your skin, his heart physically hurting at the thought of letting you down...just a bit further, now. Just a little bit further-

Losing his steps, stumbling over his own feet as you hung limp by his side, Taehyung let you fall to the ground with a soft exhale of breath, your hair spilling out like a halo around your head. The sun was hot on his skin as he bent over you, checking for a pulse, relieved when he found it. By now, you were unresponsive.

He was panicked- his hands trembled as he cradled your face in his hands, calling you back to him, searching for a response in your face. Never before had he felt so afraid at the thought of being alone in this world, alone without a companion- without a possible friend. Without you.

“Stop right there!”

Hands still cradling your face, Taehyung looked up immediately, his eyes squinting in the midday sunlight. In a few seconds, they focused on a dark silhouette standing on top of a barricaded storage container, painted a navy blue with the words, “WILL SHOOT ON SIGHT!” sprayed on. Clearly he hadn’t noticed that. He was mostly thankful they hadn’t shot on sight. The figure did not move, standing still with their gun pointed in his direction. Without looking, too, Taehyung could sense about three other bandits pointing guns at him, masks pulled up over their faces, caps covering eyes.

“Please-”

“Are you infected?” the same voice called, gruff and loud. A shooter nearby shot down an approaching biter, slow in movement but regardless, still a threat.

“What? No, we-”

“Is she bit?” the voice repeated, pointing the gun at your body laying on the floor, sweat pooling by your arms. Taehyung looked down at you worriedly and then looked back up.

“No!” he was confident.

The figure lowered their gun for a moment. “Is she dead?”

“No,” Taehyung replied without a second of breath. “No! We’ve been walking for days and we ran out of water. She’s dehydrated.”

A second shooter scurried across the top of the container. “The girl’s down. Not a threat.”

“Anybody who’s not us is a threat.”

The second shooter frowned behind the mask. “Give them the water. They ain’t a threat to us yet. You’d want them to do the same.”

Although he seemed irritated, the first figure lowered his gun and pushed past the female shooter, hopping down from the container onto the floor. The girl remained indifferent, glancing at Taehyung in the middle of the street. Wordless, she waved her hand and the containers swiftly shifted, as if on cue, revealing a gate into a cluttered road, decorated with newspapers and large crates with, “NORTHGATE” engraved on them. Taehyung let out a sigh of immense relief, shifting to collect you in his arms, and without objection, moved towards the gates.

NEW YORK CITY, DECEMBER, 3 YEARS AGO. 2 WEEKS BEFORE THE OUTBREAK.

“What a way to spend Christmas.”

Taehyung had never spent a Christmas away from his family. Of course, with his sister being a second year student at NYU, she was breezing through her second Christmas away with ease. To the corner of her dorm room, a Christmas tree shedding bristles stood at an angle, with ugly decorations and a sponge at the top acting as the star- “Christmas on a budget,” she said when he mentioned it, and he laughed. In a room further down the hall, her roommates finished wrapping their gifts to give out in three days time, and Taehyung, amongst the sound of carols, focused his attention on the thickening pile of snow on the windowpane outside, the frost glued to the glass in web decorations.

“Tell me about it,” Taehyung replied animatedly, turning his attention to his sister who sat down on the circle carpet in front of him. She wore a bright green jumper decorated in gingham and flashing bulbs sewn into the wool, and plain black leggings with fluffy red and white socks. On her hair, a set of reindeer ears finished her look, meanwhile Taehyung settled with a similar jumper and bare feet, numbed by the fire.

His sister’s dorm sufficed as home. For now, at least.

“I can’t believe we can’t make it home this year,” she continued, dunking a Custard Cream into her hot chocolate. “You think they’re okay back home?”

“We can’t afford to think any different,” Taehyung replied, trying to remain optimistic. But with upper-New York in quarantine, and evacuations running almost daily, he was finding it harder to hang onto hope. “We’ll catch a flight when the airlines are back open. Knowing Dad, he’s probably taken them all to Grandma’s place. For comfort, and safety, while the raids finish. Did you hear about the riots in Detroit the other day?”

She nodded. “Scary stuff. I did some research before the internet shut down in the dorms, and it doesn’t look as extreme in Korea. I mean, the President was assassinated and there’s currently no stable Government, but, aside from that, everything seemed to be in working order. Daegu was fine, at least. I didn’t look anywhere else.”

At that, Mandy, a second roommate, stepped out from the thin corridor. “I heard England was the same. Brits executed their prime-minister a few nights ago. There was articles about them wanting to have Tom Hiddleston as the leader of the UK, which, to be honest, sounds pretty good. I’d go visit.”

Laughing, his sister thought nothing of it. She turned to Taehyung with a gentle gaze, not enough to cause panic, but enough to send a message without words.

“Did your friends leave campus already?” Mandy asked Taehyung, switching on the kettle. The TV fizzled to a static and she frowned, “great. Looks like the power’s cutting out too. Is it this bad in the Halls?”

“We still have internet. And, a few left campus. I think Zac is still in the dorms, though. He hasn’t left in a couple of days. He said he wasn’t feeling well. Figures he got sick from walking past the quarantine zone. I didn’t wanna take chances so I haven’t been there in a couple days.”

“Maybe you should stay here for the night,” Mandy offered kindly, sipping her freshly brewed tea. “I mean, until the storm has thawed. If Zac is sick, we don’t want you to catch it. We can drop by on the way to the student store in the morning and get your things. I don’t think the airlines are gonna reopen anytime soon, and subways were closed months ago, and I don’t think we’ll catch a ride on the bus in this weather. We’ll have to hole up in here until the military says it’s safe to leave.”

Taehyung accepted, taking a blanket from Mandy after she hurried to their storage closet to fish one out, with pillows spare for the couch, a new makeshift bed in front of the roaring fire.

“We’ll be together if anything bad happens,” his sister said, in a whisper, minutes before mandatory curfew at 9pm. “Promise?”

“Yeah,” Taehyung replied, his hand gripping her own. “I promise...”

PRESENT DAY. [x]

At the sound of bed sheets rustling, Taehyung jolted awake. Unable to differentiate the past and the present, Taehyung opened his eyes expecting to see the fireplace, and the Christmas tree, and his sister on the circle rug. Instead, he noticed an unfamiliar room, drowned in a desert-beige, the light peeping in from a rectangular barred window.

He dragged the chair he had fallen asleep on closer to the army bed you were lying on, the noise as grating as the sound of chalk on a blackboard. Checking for injuries, his hands smoothed away strands of hair from your face, the trembling anxiety faded but still present if he really concentrated.

With a groan, you tried to sit up, but his hands came to your shoulders and settled you back on the canvas sheets. “Where are we?”

“How are you feeling?” he asked, avoiding the question.

You pondered the question- “stiff. But I’m okay. What is this place?”

Taehyung looked over his shoulder at the empty room. “You were passed out on the road when they found us. We were headed for their camp and they stopped me for questioning. They let us in, gave you water, let you rest.”

“Oh,” your voice said, scratchy. By the headboard of the small, iron bed, Taehyung reached for a glass of warming water, handing it to you quickly. “Thankyou.” You swallowed half the water. “Are we staying here?”

Taehyung looked hesitant, taking a sip from the almost empty cup and setting it back down on the table. “I don’t know if we can trust these people. At the very least, we’ll stay for the night. They could give us some supplies to leave. I’m already running low on ammo, and we have nothing left to eat. I don’t think we have any other choice but to stay.”

You knew that there was no other way. Despite his efforts to keep you down, you shuffled back up off the bed, your back leaning with a heavy thud against the drywall. Taehyung pushed back on his chair, his hands knitted together anxiously as he watched you grimace, and scratch your throat absentmindedly.

“How long have we been here?” you asked.

“Not long,” Taehyung said quietly, looking the window to see the falling sunlight change angles. “It’s been a couple hours.”

“Are they at least nice? Does the camp look secure?”

Taehyung opened his mouth, but paused, trying to find the right words. “It’s not a camp. It’s more like, a street. A small little community of really angry people. I didn’t get to look around much, but I overheard one of the shooters saying that there was another small group of survivors outside near the farm. But, from what I heard, I think we got lucky being let inside.”

Having nothing of value to say in reply, you simply stayed quiet. Picking the skin around your nails, Taehyung shuffled back on the chair and pulled it to the wall with the window, standing on the plastic and peeking outside. The window was on the ground, meaning you weren’t, and he gulped at the sight of jeep wheels driving past, and black boots, similar to the military. It reminded him of New York, and the night before the bombing of the quarantine near NYU. He cringed and moved away, placing the chair back near the bed and hovering nearby, debating whether to sit or stand.

“You talk in your sleep, too,” you said quietly, meeting his gaze as it fluttered up from beneath his overgrown fringe. He offered a lopsided smile, curious yet nervous all at once.

“Yeah? Must have picked it up from you.” Instead of the chair, he sat on the bed. “Did I say anything funny?”

“No. Most of it was mumbles,” you replied, smiling up at him.

Taehyung laughed through his nose, his face downcast and fingers twiddling in his lap. “Ah, pity. I wish we still had cameras, you could have filmed it for fun.”

“I wish I still had my camera, so I could look back on my life before now,” you answered, after a short delay of silence. “Remind myself of people’s faces. Manipulate myself into thinking this is all a dream.”

Without really thinking, Taehyung reached to grip your hand. These days, he hasn’t really thought at all. You looked up at him, comforted at the way his hand felt on your own, smoothing circles into the skin of your knuckles, exploring the lines on your palm, fingering each separation. Oh, how beautiful it was, to find comfort in the presence of someone you barely knew, but trusted entirely.

“This won’t be forever, Y/N,” he said, with such a sincere and genuine voice that you felt your stomach knot and churn, a lump forming in your throat. Suddenly you need another drink of water. “You won’t be sad forever.”

Before you could reply, the door swung open, and his hands moved from your own back to his lap. He rose, too, reaching for the back of his jeans, gripping the pistol tucked inside.

The same female shooter from the container entered, her rifle swung over her shoulder, skin sweaty and tanned from the camo tank-top she wore underneath her black jacket, discarded somewhere. Taehyung remembered the details.

“She’s awake, then.”

“Yeah,” you replied bluntly, polite enough to suffice as gratefulness. “Thank you. For letting us in.”

The woman sighed, her shoulders sagging in the movement. “Well, no need to thank me yet. It’s still being cleared with the boss. Rules are rules. Feeling better, at least?”

You nodded slightly, staring at Taehyung as he chose to speak for you. “Can we leave this room, yet? It’s stuffy, and I think she’d like to walk for a while, isn’t that right, Y/N?”

He stared at you, sending messages without words. You nodded again, “please.”

Rolling her shoulders, the woman stepped to the side, leaving space for you to both walk out. “Don’t make yourself too at home, but you’re free to look around. Inside this building is restricted to outsiders, but the outside near the farm is free. There’s another group of survivors nearby- they’re cranky and hostile, but, they had children. We never refuse kids.”

Already, you were learning little things about this place. To be truthful, you didn’t even know what to call where you were- were they captors? Saviours? Enemies? You hesitated to jump to conclusions, instead moving to follow Taehyung out of the confined room with a curt nod and no words. The woman didn’t seem to mind; she slammed the door shut behind her and pointed her gun in the direction of a raised shutter, leading out to the luscious-looking farmland out back. She didn’t follow. She took off in a different direction, signalling to her group with words neither you or Taehyung could understand.

“I have a really bad feeling about this place,” you admitted in a low voice, sticking to Taehyung’s side like glue. The faint smell of sweat and grime that would have repelled you now comforted you instead, and without wanting to come across as unnecessarily clingy, you gently held onto the back of his shirt, letting him lead you out into the scorching sunlight.

“Hopefully,” he began, setting off towards the red and white barn pushed towards the corner of the premises, “we won’t be here long. As soon as we’re clear to leave, we will.”

Realistically, Taehyung knew what happened to newcomers who joined groups where everything felt perfect. Nothing was ever truly perfect, he thought, especially so in a post-apocalyptic world where dead people were coming to life to eat people. Taehyung had seen the movies, bought the T-shirt, played the game- he knew what happened. However, he hoped humanity had changed. He was willing to give this place a chance. If he wanted to survive another night, he’d have to.

The barn was ordinary looking, painted a brick red with white outlines, the picture-perfect barn that every farm had on TV. Surrounding the barn, a field of dead crops created a barren landscape that everybody felt familiar with, the weather not being right to grow crops. Approaching the barn, Taehyung paused when he noticed a young child running out, chased playfully by a Saint Bernard whose pants were louder than birdsong.

It had been a long time since he had seen a child. Or a dog.

He headed towards the barn, smiling affectionately when the little boy looked over with curiosity, his eyes widening in surprise and fright and he yelped in alarm, running back inside the barn. Taehyung hesitated, making you stiffen behind him as the dog growled in your direction, only halting when a man came out of the barn with the child cowering behind his leg. He didn’t look old enough to be a father, but a lot had happened since the outbreak. The man smiled nonetheless, his smile being nothing but warm and inviting.

“Hey, look, it’s the newbies.”

“Newbies?” you mocked without thinking. Although Taehyung gave you a look of mild disappointment, the man did not deter, in-fact he laughed and placed his hands on his hips.

“It’s good to see new faces,” he said earnestly. “They don’t bring in new people often. Welcome.”

“I’m Taehyung. This is Y/N, we won’t be here long,” Taehyung promised, stretching out a hand and shaking the man’s. The man laughed shortly, constantly smiling. His energy was like a breath of fresh air, almost enough to convince you that everything was normal.

“Namjoon. This here is Daniel. Not mine, of course. There’s a couple others in the back of the barn,” the man- Namjoon- replied. “I wouldn’t place your money on getting out of this place so easily. We’ve been here for a few weeks now. We planned to stay for three nights until Jenny’s fever levelled out. They took her in for testing. Said she’s in care, but we haven’t seen her since then.”

Taehyung moved to greet Daniel, crouching to his level. Meanwhile you stared blankly at Namjoon, an expression of doubt and question on your features. He noticed, but didn’t comment.

“They won’t let you visit?” you repeated. “Why?”

Namjoon shrugged, nodding for you to follow him into the barn. “Apparently their main building is off-limits to outsiders. A lot of them in here think she’s dead already. But, it’s nice to keep holding onto hope.”

Without approaching too closely, you made note of the six people in Namjoon’s group, not including himself and Daniel, who was still outside with Taehyung, giggling innocently. What they lacked in looks they made up for in numbers- you hadn’t seen a group look so wrecked in such pristine conditions. Namjoon had turned away, taking a seat on a bale of hay, stroking the Saint Bernard behind his ears lovingly.

“What is this place?” you asked, inching towards the dog whose tag read Leo.

“They don’t really tell us anything since we’re outsiders,” Namjoon began, occasionally looking up to make sure you were listening. He did that a lot. “But, a lot of their crates say Northgate. Nate says it’s a military name, but we obviously can’t prove that from in here, can we?”

“Is it...safe?”

Namjoon hesitated. “I don’t know. The barn is secure. I don’t know much about the actual camp. We mostly stick to ourselves and do whatever they ask. We’re in their territory, after-all. It started out good; they had enough food to go around, we joined them for dinner in their halls and there used to be pigs out in the fields. And then, it changed. They reduced our food supply and gave us small jobs to help out. We’re doing it for Jenny, mostly, otherwise we would have tried to leave. One of our group members, David, left a few days ago.”

“They let him go?” you gasped, trying not to sound too unconvinced that he made it away. But, as expected, Namjoon nodded, thinking purely of the situation. You wondered if it was an act, a coping mechanism. The look of life and hope in his eyes made you feel somehow guilty.

“They asked us if we wanted to leave a few days after the food began running out. David was the only one to pick up and head out.”

Why didn’t you leave?

In reply, however, you said nothing. Nothing seemed like the right thing to say in that moment. Seeing someone so hopeful for the world to change made you feel at ease, almost comfortable in the new and unfamiliar setting. After petting Leo, you stood, turning around to head back towards the entrance to the barn. Daniel hurried past you on your way out, a smile on his face, hair now tied into a bobble above his forehead. Taehyung stood alone, now, outside, watching Daniel leave with a smile.

“Making friends?” you asked, referencing Daniel.

Taehyung nodded with a hum. “I love kids.”

Meeting by his side, you stood in silence, both looking out towards the giant building you walked out of. It looked bigger on the outside- a giant bricked building, with modern windows and a slightly falling apart roof, but intimidating in size and length. It seemed never-ending.

“Taehyung,” you started, your voice quiet so that Namjoon or anybody else wouldn’t hear, “I really don’t like this place. I don’t think we should stay.”

He looked over at you with a frown. “You heard what he said. They’ve been here weeks and still haven’t left.”

“I don’t like that,” you insisted, shaking your head. “I’ve seen thousands of movies like this one, Taehyung. I’m telling you- this is exactly what happened in Season 4 of the The Walking Dead. They get to the safe place and then suddenly find out that the people they’re staying with are cannibals-”

“You’re being paranoid.”

“No,” you reasoned, looking at his face, “I’m being realistic, as usual. Look, it’s your call. If you wanna stay...we will. I’m just putting it out there. Something doesn’t feel right about this place.”

Even though he sighed, Taehyung said nothing; instead, he nodded, patting your shoulder comfortingly. He continued to stare out towards the building, and his mouth dropped to a circle when he noticed two groupies heading in your direction, accompanied by a larger, more plump woman. He pointed it out silently, nudging your shoulder, and as you looked up, you recognised the same woman from earlier, and a shooter that Taehyung seemed to recognise as he jolted in discomfort by your side.

“I see you’ve found the barn!” a voice nobody recognised called from across the lot. The larger woman came into view, the sun bouncing off her skin, a natural highlight made from sweat and grease blinding you as she got closer. “Hi, I’m Rose. You must be the two newcomers everybody’s talking about.”

She looked at you specifically, “it’s good to hear you’re back on your feet. I heard from Snowdon here that you were passed out when you arrived. How do you feel?”

You squirmed. “I’m okay. I was just thirsty. I appreciate the water.”

“You know what,” Rose started, her voice elevated in pitch as she turned to address Snowdon, the female member you barely knew, “I think we should run some tests on this young lady. Make sure that nothing is wrong. Just for safety precautions, of course.”

“No, oh no,” you replied, perhaps a bit too quickly for everybody looked at you with alarm. Rose raised her eyebrows subtly, and Snowdon paused in movement entirely, “I’m fine. Really. I don’t think you need to take any tests. I feel great.”

“Only if you’re sure,” Rose said in reply. She looked silently at the two members behind her and they turned without further word. “I just wanted to let you know that you’re perfectly welcome to stay here for as long as you need. Unfortunately, we can’t let you leave just yet, at least not until we know it’s safe to reopen the gates. Until then, you’re welcome to stay in the barn with the others. Dinner is usually at around sundown, sometimes it’s earlier depending on the weather.”

Taehyung, now slightly uncomfortable, nodded stiffly. “We won’t be of any trouble. As soon as it’s clear, we’d like to head out. We’re with a group, but we got separated. We’re on our way to them, now. We can’t be late.”

Rose smiled, her face like plastic. She reminded you of a robot. “I do hope it’s doable.”

The sound of Rose’s voice must have alerted the others further in the barn, as the sound of footsteps made you look away from the woman and back towards the entrance, where several people you only saw from a distance came out, tanned and burnt, parched and weak. Daniel bounded forward with childlike interest, meanwhile a woman who looked like his mother, or something similar, tumbled after him.

“Excuse me,” the woman said meekly, her voice quiet in comparison to Rose’s challenging authority. “I was wondering if Jenny was alright? We haven’t heard from her in weeks. Is she okay? Is it possible to see her?”

“Where’s Mommy?” Daniel asked, innocent and oblivious to the world. Rose continued to smile.

“I can arrange you to see her,” she suggested. “Only two of you, though. The others do not take so kindly to strangers. I can allow you and the little one access to see her.” She reached for a walkie-talkie burrowed in her pockets, “Nevis, please come out to the barn. The little one and his friend request to see the patient in Room 16. Show them the way.”

At that, Namjoon came out, shielding the sun from his eyes. “She’s okay?”

“Barely,” Rose nodded. She seemed to not care for Namjoon, and turned back to Taehyung suddenly: “forgive me for seeming so...brash, but I must ask if you have any weapons. It’s against the rules.”

You fought all urge to give away Taehyung’s pistol tucked in the back of his jeans. If she knew that there was a weapon there, she didn’t show it. Taehyung shook his head and folded his arms.

“Nothing,” he lied smoothly. “We ran out of ammo before we got here, and when Y/N fell, I couldn’t carry everything. I dropped most of the stuff along the way. The guards took the bat and the rifle. I have nothing else.”

Rose hummed quietly. “Very well.” Nevis joined her side, the same man as before. He had removed his mask, revealing a gruesome scar across his cheek, a hollowness under his cheekbones. He remained emotionless as Rose showed him Daniel and the woman, and without question, he led them towards the building.

Watching as Rose followed, the group left behind at the barn remained quiet in return. The group went back inside, and Namjoon joined by your side as the shutter to the building closed with privacy, separating the barn and the rest of the camp entirely. It seemed to be quieter, then, without the whir of machinery and occasional scream, which you guessed was either from outside the camp or the cannibalistic lair you were putting money on existing.

“I know you have a gun at the back of your jeans,” Namjoon said simply, looking at neither you or Taehyung but straight ahead. “Let’s hope nobody finds it.”

Taehyung gulped. “Yeah.”

Namjoon looked over then, and it felt weird not seeing a smile on his face. For the first time since you had met him, he looked serious.

“I won’t say anything,” he said honestly. “And if it’s any consolation- I don’t trust them either. I just do and say what I have to to make it easier to stay.”

NEXT CHAPTER.

[slothcritic]

Dragon Ball Z Abridged - Episode 9 Review

Consistently funny. The weak points do not drag this episode down.

The Set Up begins with a great cold open. Piccolo is drop-dead unconscious on the ground, Gohan is desperately trying to wake him up, and Krillin is anxiously awaiting for Goku to show up. After all, he’s their friend who would never let them down right? Meanwhile... Goku is busy eating at Jadoshin's palace. Even as a departure from the original series, I like the idea that the two of them made up and are friends now. Jadoshin, however, has to remind Goku about the Saiyans. Goku then runs out in a panic.

[Title Sequence]

Piccolo isn't getting up and Nappa needs a new toy. He chooses Gohan seemingly at random from the two remaining, and floors him in one kick.

"Wooo! Not me!"

When Krillin isn't being the resident Milhouse, he's the rimshot comedian. The joy doesn't last for much longer though, as Gohan stays down.

Nappa is about to tear Krillin a new one, when the bald monk suddenly screams out that it's his turn. And for some glorious reason, this actually works on Nappa. This is some straight up Looney Tunes, "Duck Season, Fire!" type tomfoolery.

Vegeta does not handle Nappa's stupidity very well, and in his anger does a fourth wall break where he references a timestamp in the video. This is kind of clever and a bit of a break from the other fourth wall jokes that they've done so far, but I feel like it could lose its charm if it's done more than once. As for the timestamp itself, which is at 9:18 in the video... we'll get to that later.

Krillin decides to use the Destructo-Kienzan, and Vegeta shouts a warning to Nappa that it's a trick.

"But Vegeta... tricks are for kids."

The tense background music just completely stops here, but you can still hear the vibrations of the kienzan in the background. Great sound design. The long pause afterwards is also well timed, and Vegeta takes up the "fuck it, you wanna die, then die." mentality with Nappa. This skit is succinct, well paced and well editied.

Nappa receives a deep cut to the face for his troubles, as it just nearly takes his head off. Nappa laments his modeling career, and the scene cuts to a photoshopped rendition of Nappa on Vogue magazine. The bald, beautiful Saiyan, and his 10 tips on being a better lover!

This might have been a joke before its time, or perhaps the intention was different while writing this in 2009, but Nappa shows us all what a "nice guy" he was trying to be during all of this, and now decides "okay, full ultra-violence it is!" and fades Krillin with a white sparkly angel dust attack. I'm sure it has an actual cool sounding name (Like "Galaxy Breaker" or something) but I'm going to keep calling it the white sparkly angel dust attack. The owned counter ticks up to 8 here, but it doesn't feel deserved.

Piccolo jumps up with an "I'm back" and shoots Nappa... in the back. He sees what you did there. Just as Piccolo and Nappa are about to throw down, Gohan appears out of nowhere and roundhouse kicks him through a boulder. More indication that Gohan has some incredible hidden power inside of him. This surprises Piccolo, and Gohan is initially apologetic, but Piccolo begs for him to stay angry before Nappa just as quickly hops back to his feet.

It turns out Gohan hit Nappa so hard that he turned Italian. Seems a little out of left field, but why not. The "I'm a firing my laser" reference is perhaps the most dated thing I've seen since Episode 1. Would this even count as a meme? Wasn't "Firin Mah Laser" something that came out before the word meme even became popular as a way of describing internet fads, jokes, templates and trends? Back when Demotivational Posters and I Can Haz Cheeseburger ruled the internet? Truthfully, I loved this joke when it came out, but now all it does is remind me of the proto-internet days. And part of me feels weird for being nostalgic about that, because I just know someone in their 30's is going to read this and roll their eyes saying "Oh God, I'm getting old", in much the same way I'll feel horrified when people start to become nostalgic for Fortnite in the next 10 or 20 years.

Back to the episode, Piccolo's sacrifice happens right about here, and the scene does a good job of pointing out a plot contrivance in the source material. Piccolo could have just grabbed Gohan and moved out of the way. Though the scene plays up the amount of time Piccolo had to work with, there was still nothing stopping him from just grabbing him and chucking him like a bag of potatoes out of the way, even in the original. However, if Piccolo doesn't die, there's no real reason to go to Namek. What I think might be a more practical reason is that, this is a turning point for Piccolo as a character where he starts thinking emotionally. It's no real secret across both the canon and the abridged material that Piccolo is actually a pretty decent parent. So this right here is the idea of Piccolo more or less abandoning rational thought and considered only protecting Gohan. That contrasts a little with the ruthless, methodical, cunning, intelligent character he's been shown to be, just to throw that all away to save him, but the contrivance definitely becomes less egregious when you consider these factors.

However you want to address it, then end result is that Piccolo sacrifices himself to protect Gohan. In the original this is capped off with Piccolo comparing Gohan to his son, which is what Gohan begins to explain before Piccolo calls him a nerd. In this series however, Piccolo laments one final time:

"Why... didn't you... DODGE!!!"

Bleh. And with Piccolo's death, Kami is soon to follow. He explains the Namekian Dragon Balls to Mr Popo, and the long (very long) journey that must be undertook in order to revive everyone, but Mr Popo outright refuses and simply reminds Kami of the pecking order. Kami dies, and thus the Dragon Balls become inert.

Back at the battlefield, Vegeta was busy reading an issue of that very same Vogue magazine with Nappa on the cover and thus didn't see him kill Piccolo, like a mother three sangria's deep at her kid's soccer practice.

I've never much cared for Gohan's exasperated expletives in this or any scene in DBZA. This one in particular doesn't sit well with me simply because they went to the effort of being purposefully verbose but then still chose to use the word "condom" over "contraceptive" - A condom is made of latex, whereas a contraceptive is any kind of device at all that prevents pregnancy. As an example, some of the first contraceptives in history were made from linen and animal intestines, while the condom itself wasn't invented until 1855. Gohan specifically saying he's going to use Nappa's intestines as a condom serves the same purpose either way, but “contraceptive” would’ve been more technically accurate, in a bit of dialogue that is purposefully trying to be technically accurate. I wouldn't be picking on the semantics so much if that weren't the express purpose of this entire scene. Also it has more syllables and therefore sounds more smarterer.

Nappa gives this scene the backhand and the "bitch please" it deserves and we're done with that.

"Everyone important to you is dead." "Hey I'm still alive--" "EVERYONE important." "...Damn it."

See, this is where the Krillin Owned count should have gone up.

After Nappa doesn't smash, Goku appears on the battlefield. His reaction to showing up too late and everyone being dead is uncharacteristically deadpan, and it's hilarious. He asks where Chiaotzu is, and Krillin gives him the Achmed the Dead Terrorist explanation. Over there, over there, and up there. I'm not actually sure if this episode predates Jeff Dunham or not, but I enjoy both, both used the same joke at least once, and both make me laugh so I'm drawing the comparison anyways.

Goku asks why everyone is dead and Nappa immediately and without hesitation calls dibs. This leads into one of most famous and iconic scenes, if only for meme reasons, in all of DBZ.

"Vegeta, what does the scouter say about his power level?" "It's... 1006." "Wha-- Really?" "Yeah. Kick his ass, Nappa!"

Not gonna lie, this genuinely made me burst into laughter the first time I saw it. I don't know if it was just shock value or what, but it doesn't have the same effect now that I know it's coming every time I rewatch this episode. I just love the idea of the scouter being upside-down and Vegeta not questioning it. An even better headcanon is that the scouter was never upside-down, Vegeta was just getting tired of Nappa's bullshit and just decided to send him into an ass-kicking anyways.

We're treated to a solid 15 seconds of Nappa getting completely curbstomped while the various characters look on in shock and awe, until Nappa gets dumped at Vegeta's feet.

It's also here that Vegeta finally learns that Piccolo's life is directly intertwined with the Dragon Balls. I believe this was already established in the original series, but no such conversation ever occurred here. Vegeta has quite simply lost his chance at immortality and it’s all because of Nappa.

I actually wonder how an immortal Saiyan would work. They receive a Zenkai boost, which makes them stronger when they almost die, but if you can't ever die, you can't ever “almost” die either, so you wouldn't get the Zenkai boost and your power wouldn't increase that way. Then again, most expectations of logic or consistency within Dragon Ball are pretty much always doomed.

Speaking of doomed, remember that timestamp at 9:18 that Vegeta referenced earlier? Because Vegeta certainly does, and with both the camel’s and Nappa's back having officially been broken, Nappa is sent to the shadow realm in a blinding flash of light and a massive explosion.

Vegeta's smirk is all we needed to close out this episode. There is no stinger.

Conclusion

Really good episode, actually. I wouldn't consider it as strong as Episode 7, but it definitely holds the same energy throughout. There are more high quality comedic moments in this episode than I could count on both hands. At worst some of the dialogue was uninteresting, pointless or overproduced, but the average pace of this episode rests rather highly compared to its valleys.

Microphone quality and sound mixing on some pieces of dialogue is still meh. Krillin's first line in this episode peaks the audio or something similar, because it takes me out for a hot second just because it's so sudden and emphatic.

We also see a slight evolution in the dynamic between Vegeta and Nappa which keeps things fresh. This is becoming less of a deadpan snarker and over the top clown, treads more into the ticking time bomb territory which is great for slowly building tension, and not unjustly as it has a satisfying payoff.

Plot holes in the original are addressed and lampooned here, creative jokes such as the Vogue Nappa and “1006″ are present and accounted for, and on the whole there's a lot of very on the mark humor, and only some of it is overdone. The story for this episode also holds significant weight and momentum, and it all blends together quite well with an above-average script and some great visual and audio edits.

Score: 77

Passing Thoughts

"Riiiiiicola!" - Oh hey, it's this again.

"Oh and I totally killed that guy. Oh well, at least we still had fun getting here, right Vegeta? Vegeta? Remember the bug planet? Vegeta? Vegeta? Vegeta? Vegeta? Vegeta? Vegeta? Vege-- AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!"