#but it’s genuinely annoying how it bleeds into how we talk about THE BOOKS!!

[jonsnowunemploymentera]

I’d honestly rather not talk about this topic because of the fandom toxicity that always surrounds it, but I think one of the more…should I say….interesting things to witness post HOTD has been the way fandom treats Jon Snow’s relationship with House Targaryen, and the effect that has on how they perceive his role in the larger (unfinished) narrative. Jon’s association with the Targs is more implied in the books because his parentage has not been revealed yet. But when you read the many companion stories released over the years like the Dunk and Egg novellas, The Rogue Prince, and Fire and Blood, you realize how much of House Targaryen is built around having Jon Snow as a foundation. I’m talking entire characters being Jon Snow clones or being created as a tiny hint-hint, nudge-nudge for ‘Jon the hidden Targaryen prince’. Sometimes, multiple characters within a certain period have elements of Jon; e.g., Jace, Addam, and Alyn Velaryon all being Jon Snow clones to varying degrees.

Jon was one of the very first characters ever created in this story many, many years ago. The first scene GRRM envisioned, of a family finding direwolf pups in the snow, gave birth to two characters who would be central to the entire series’ resolution: Jon and Bran. Then you read GRRM’s leaked outline and though he has since denounced it, it still says something important: Jon was always meant to be a secret royal prince. We can comfortably assume that he was created before most of the world’s history was set in stone. So when GRRM is building upon House Targaryen, which has thus far occupied the vast majority of the supplementary material, he injects elements of Jon into those characters. For example, Egg from D&E is very similar to Jon Snow personality wise. Bloodraven, who is from the same era and even has a role as Bran’s mentor in the main narrative, is created as foreshadowing for Jon Snow. Baelor Breakspear, also in these novellas, is how GRRM shows that Targaryen princes don’t always have the typical Valyrian look. Baelor favored his mother, as does Jon. Beyond just those novellas, he exists to inform on Jon, not just in look but in character too. Sometimes, Targaryen history is written to inform more tangentially on Jon’s own origins. Case in point, Prince Duncan and Jenny of Oldstones as parallels for Rhaegar and Lyanna.

Then we get to Fire and Blood which focuses so wholly on House Targaryen. And what I find interesting, and then frustrating at times, is how HOTD has morphed how we discuss this book. Because outside of HOTD, it’s easy to see how GRRM builds on Targaryen history with Jon in mind. And then we have the Dance of the Dragons. And this is where HOTD fucks up beyond measure. A lot of characters who existed during the Dance inform on Jon and his potential future. I’ve already mentioned the two Velaryon brothers, but I want to zero in on Jace because as one of the key players during this conflict, he is one of the most important ways in which GRRM links these historical characters to the (currently ongoing) main narrative. Jace is pretty much “Jon Snow if his Targaryen parent was actually the woman and he was raised as a prince”. He is so very similar to Jon in character, almost to the point of being an outright clone. And this important because one of his greatest accomplishments during the Dance was his alliance with Winterfell’s lord, Cregan Stark. This birthed the Pact of Ice and Fire, a union between the two most powerful and important families in the meta-narrative. This union went unfulfilled in Jace’s and Cregan’s lifetimes…..but Rhaegar and Lyanna flipped it over its head. Originally meant to be a union between a Stark lord and Targaryen princess whose children would have direct claim to Winterfell, the actual fulfillment of this Pact was that a Targaryen prince sired a son by a Stark lady. The result of this union, Jon, now has claim to both families’ legacies: Winterfell and the Iron Throne. Through the Pact of Ice and Fire, Jon Snow becomes one of the most important and most direct cases of narrative continuity between the current era and Targaryen history. The Dance of the Dragons unknowingly gives birth to Jon Snow.

What HOTD does is to entirely erase one of the most direct consequences of the Dance from its narrative. The show makes no meaningful reference to Jon, or the Pact, even though the author of the source material was careful in laying out just how important Jon is to the central narrative. What’s frustrating is how then they spend a lot of time talking about the prince that was promised whose song is the song of ice and fire. But then they erase Jon, the result of the pact of ice and fire, from the narrative. The worst thing about this is that HOTD has taken such a large space in fandom discussion, such that people use events from the show to inform how they engage with the written text. For all intents and purposes these have been two different narratives, but now I have to read the worst blood-supremacist takes about Jon; which is incredibly ironic given the subject matter.

I often see people celebrate that HOTD doesn’t talk about Jon, which has been a pretty big clue on either one of two things:

Many people who engage in fandom discussion post HOTD don’t actually engage with the text in its entirety. They’ve either never read the books and have only consumed them based on their online fandom bubbles, or what they have read is severely limited in scope.

Some of those who have read these books don’t like ASOIAF for what it is. They like it for what it should be for their headcannons and character-limited perceptions. Thats why they like it when certain sections of the text are outright ignored, because it’s better for their headcannons that way.

Beyond wanting new material, one of the worst consequences of these books going unfinished for me is that large sections of this fandom will be primed to ignoring one of the central characters, because all the material that’s been released outside of the published material has greatly mischaracterized the text itself. We’re now relegated to unhelpful (sometimes idiotic) arguments such as “HOTD says so, so it must be true in the books”. HOTD is taking creative liberties, and we should respect that. And we should also acknowledge that some part of HOTD is continued from Game of Thrones, which didn’t do a very good job of adapting ASOIAF or its characters in the first place. Cutting out the Pact of Ice and Fire (as far as we know) is one of the worst narrative changes made by the HOTD show runners in terms of establishing common context with the story many viewers are already aware of. And it sucks that with that show’s massive popularity, future ASOIAF adaptations will follow suit in completely disregarding important elements of the overall narrative. But hey, at least dragons look good.

[fruitsboots]

I'm a nail technician and here's a big list of headcanons about the kinds of clients the TOS Enterprise crew would be!

Kirk:

-shows up on time for appointment but sometimes has to cancel super last minute.

-doesn't bite his nails but picks at them and his cuticles. not enough to bleed or anything but enough that most of his appointment is cuticle work.

- "Cut them short" my guy there's no free edge.

- holds still, uses arm rest appropriately, doesn't stiffen his hands. no polish, just buffed smooth. jokes every time that next time maybe he'll go with a hot pink.

-asks a lot of questions and chats at the beginning of the appointment but ends up getting a little bored by the end.

-always tips very well but doesn't rebook, he'll call you.

Spock:

-doesn't make appointments, just shows up sometimes on slow days and asks to use certain supplies.

-does his own nails and keeps them very nice and neat. nail beds to die for. Nails grow very fast.

-On occasion has been talked into a dark polish and will let someone else do that for him (he's not very good at the application).

-sits a little too stiffly like he's concentrating. speaks when spoken to. doesn't linger long, the smell gives him a headache.

-doesn't tip but you’re not sure if he knows he’s supposed to.

McCoy:

-calls and asks if there’s time for a walk in then shows up later than he tells you but usually has a good excuse.

-Hands are dry as hell from washing them a lot. Worst, driest cuticles. Always gets a split on the edge of his pointer finger.

-Sits too far away from the table, at an angle, hunched, wrists on the armrest and elbows locked. Has to be asked to scoot arms forward a million times.

-Is annoying to work on technically, but fun to chat with. Always turns into a complaint session but in the best way. Wants to know the drama in your life and gives opinions.

- Closes eyes and tries not to doze off during the hand massage. Wipes off all the lotion that he desperately needs.

-Tips alright and always says he’ll come back soon but you know it’ll be another 4 months.

Uhura:

-has a standing appointment every 3 weeks and is never late, sometimes she’ll bring you a drink and apologizes when she doesn’t.

-Did her own nails for a long time and keeps them well manicured between appointments.

-Will (properly!) remove her own gel polish before appointments to save you the trouble.

- Tends to go for lighter, pearlescent shades. Always asks what you have that’s new but then picks one of her go-tos.

- Loves to look at nail art but doesn’t usually get it.

-Super bubbly during appointments, very patient, sits perfectly. Always enthusiastic about the result and gives lots of praise.

-Tips well and takes business cards to give to people.

Chapel:

-Not really supposed to get her nails done but does anyways. Doesn’t have super regular appointments but usually books with Uhura when she does.

-Usually shows up with chipped polish from last time that desperately needed removed 3 weeks ago.

-Gets light/sheer colors.

-Sometimes will book for a gel manicure and then tell you she doesn’t actually want polish this time even tho she needs it. Nice nails beds but they are thin and peel a bit without anything on them.

-Apologizes for no reason multiple times. Thanks you as if it were an inconvenience to do her nails? 

-After a few appointments, she loosens up a bit. Tips decent.

Sulu:

-has gotten his nails done like five times just for fun.

-Keeps them short, not much cuticle work. Why are you here??

- Will get a couple “masculine” designs and isn’t picky about them. “You just do whatever you think will look best :) “

-genuinely fun to have as a client but needs some direction on how to sit etc. can talk about anything.

-Didn’t tip the first time bc he didn’t know and felt bad so he always does, but it’s not much.

Scotty:

-how can one man have so much grease under his nails?

-Has a standing appointment once a month for just a nail trim but should be more like every two weeks.

-Asks questions about nail equipment (UV lamp, e-file, etc).

-Talks a bit during the appointment and then stands around after chatting. Always tips like 2$ but sometimes brings baked goods, etc.

Chekov:

-wanders in with a bruised nail and is like “what can you do for this” nothing dude.

-Leaves and comes back later to buy a gift certificate to give to a girl.

[amanitaphalloides]

can't do emojis on desktop but tea about fandom bleeding into published fiction

LOL. I don’t feel like I know enough about fiction publishing to have an opinion on how this affects trends or the industry in general, so simply as a woman who likes to read and write: extremely mixed feelings. sometimes it is really funny or even charming to me (when a mostly non-fandomy feeling book drops “he toed off his shoes” i can laugh and move on). however. i feel like many people who write fan fiction see it as fringe in such a way that they don't want to look frankly at how it influences writing style, and that can result in some very bad books. i think the "writing is writing is writing is writing!" school of thought does way more harm than good stylistically and we'd all be doing ourselves a favor to think of fic as a specific genre with specific genre conventions. and consciously or not, a lot of us practice those genre conventions for years, and i do think hopping between fic and original fiction poses some unique challenges. and sometimes this transition is executed poorly in a really obvious way. not just in the language either but also in terms of structure and idea. i think fic is so trope-forward partially because it is typically driven by pleasure-seeking, and partially because it's inherently about riffing. and this practice of RIFFING in particular stands out to me in certain contemporary novels, where it can feel like the author is trying to leapfrog over building an emotional core and instead shape it in reverse, by setting up tropes or dynamics that signify this core exists somewhere, just not on the page. and this can happen in really clear ways (trope-forward romance novels that everyone knows started as fic that include one line like "we've hated each other since we competed in our boarding school spelling bee") and more subtle ways (not to claim random authors i know nothing about are suffering from fan fiction habits but something like mrs s springs to mind. and i didn't even hate that book it just had that weird no-backstory feeling). and the fact that this so often coincides with queer lit and the perception that there's still a lack of stories just makes the whole thing feel sort of tragic.

the flip side of this is that i love fic writers, i love talking to people who find writing so fun they just do it regardless of gain, and i have found a lot of the habits and friendships i've formed through fic extremely helpful to my original fiction. i really love and support fic writers who write and publish original fiction. in a way i think fandom has a fantastic influence on publishing because it's where so many great writers practice and play. but again, ideally that involves being very mindful of the divisions instead of trying to ignore them.

overall if a fandom influence is coming through to me as the reader i'm probably not loving it. i will generally be more forgiving with romance and ya because i think they are fan fiction's closest genre cousins and have a lot of overlapping readership. lit fic i find it more annoying. little rabbit by alyssa songsiridej is another good example. also on a totally different note i think the funniest/weirdest bleed area is rpf and i am genuinely kind of pissed about the graham gore romance novel because i wanted to write that lol. anyway great question.

[ceph-the-ghost-writer]

@thatndginger This ask you sent me back in November (mea culpa) was sitting in my drafts. But since it no longer seems possible to edit a reply to an ask (?), I had to start fresh.

Original Ask: Happy STS! I might be bearing my own secrets a little here, but oh well! Your characters are playing a dating game, which archetype are they going for? (ie: the arrogant one, the cold one, the childhood friend, the older man, the shy one, the flirt, etc)

Answer:

Fortunately for us, Dorian is as much an expert on dating games as they are vampires and dinosaurs. They graciously compiled the data for us in their observation notes while traveling with their companions

Test Subject #1: Isaac Soto

Little to no prior experience with material in question

Self-reported type: Claims he doesn't have one

Game Selected: Love, Me

Subject initially very grumpy and reluctant to play. Finally agreed after I batted my eyes teehee 💜

Took nearly 20 minutes deciding which character to spend personal time with when first prompted

Went with the Shy, Quiet Type who only opens up after earning her trust (recognition of the self? working out personal issues through fiction? just trying to throw me off bc I'm watching?)

Played through that storyline and got happy, romantic ending. Subject expressed general satisfaction and was amenable to a second try

Went with the Playboy who's secretly deeper than he appears and craves love (going to the other extreme? unconscious desires?)

Subject sarcastically expresses doubt and scorn about Playboy's every action. Not unlike with a Certain Someone irl 😏

Subject grew increasingly more flustered and annoyed as Playboy showed more facets and genuine feelings

Subject very quiet and went to bed after getting happy and romantic ending. Has been still and silent but not actually sleeping for the past half hour

Test Subject #2: Kinslayer

Claims extensive knowledge of material in question

Self-reported type: "Gothic novel protagonist" or "anyone with a heart that continues to beat despite how easily it bleeds"

Game selected: Monster Wife

Judging from the amount of tentacles involved in the game design, I may have made a grave miscalculation here

Subject has kindly offered to let me know when to avert my eyes. However, I will remain vigilant. For science 🫣

Went with Tsundere Type werewolf (identity crisis? repressed emotion? just likes brawny women? <- relatable)

Surprising amount of story layered between the heaving bosoms and horny cutscenes

Subject makes game and gift choices which net high approval every time

Image feed flickered several times during more emotional scenes. Subject apologized off-handedly. Said they'd been "tasting the story", which can interfere with electronics (???)

Subject achieved happy and rather explicit ending. Asked whether I had learned anything

I deflected by suggesting we go out for pancakes, which was accepted

Subject #3: Renato Faria Dimas

Has heard of subject matter but has no experience with it

Self-reported type: Self-destructive and/or tragic heroes

Game selected: Wine x Blood x Roses

Subject very amused by the vampire theme

Despite stated preferences, subject is romancing Unassuming Girl with Glasses. Claims it's bc she stood out from the rest of the brooding/seductive characters (protective streak? desire to corrupt? being honest about his feelings for once?)

Unassuming type is indeed quite interesting. Not shy per se, but with a disarming cheer, and keeps avoiding talking about her history

Subject obviously intrigued despite his jokes about how she must secretly be evil. Gives no sign if he's noticed he uses the same cheery tone as her while doing this

Turns out Unassuming is much older than the other vampires, and she killed a lot of people in the past. She's slowly turned around, though, making a quiet life for herself among books and studying nature

Subject did not have any quips for these revelations

Same during the points where Unassuming questions whether she even deserves peace after all she's done

Subject repeatedly chose responses that reassured Unassuming that she's not a monster deep down and that people can change and learn from mistakes

Happy, platonic ending achieved

Subject thanked me for showing him the game despite his haunted stare. Quietly slunk off to brood somewhere for awhile before I could figure out how to get him and Subject 1 to just talk already

[soysaurus]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love ❤

i'm quite annoyed. the first time i tried to do this, my laptop decided to update randomly in the middle and i lost everything. i was just about to post, and i was talking quite a bit, i'm not gonna lie. anyway, here we go, take two: electric boogaloo.

stop signs before impact — dabihawks, psycho-pass au

my friend, valya, and i wrote this together. i love this fic, i won't lie. i think the concept is amazing, and i love how i explore touya's declining mental state with every chapter. i love his family and everything he can't quite say. i love his delusions and paranoia, and i love the gruesome detail i get to go into with each crime scene. this is so self-indulgent, and i'm thriving. thanks @valya-azucena for inviting me to collaborate with you.

amongst the stars, we fall — sskk, college au

i was cleaning my bookshelf (read: finally moving all my overflow books from the floor to um. my radiator cover?? bc its been weeks and they've just been...on the floor), and i saw my printed version of this! i miss it a lot. it was one of my first bsd fics, and i loved it. i wrote it in like 2 days at the end of a gift exchange bc i hated what i had thus far, so just restarted. and this was born. i was so stressed LOL love songs — tachigin, music artist au

this isn't published yet, hence no link. but it's been living rent-free in my brain for over a year now, and i'm obsessed. i feel so much with this fic. if i think too hard about the charas, i genuinely start crying. damn, maybe the counsellor was right. i do need therapy... back when we were younger — dabihawks, monster au

also unpublished, also something that i hold very dearly. someone in ctabb was looking for monster au fic recs, but like monster movie-esque. they're the reason i watched cloverfield and it's now one of my favourite films of all time. they're the reason this fic even exists, and one day i will finish it. i'll post this random 50k one shot like i sometimes do, and then i'll read it when i want to cry.

do you want to bleed across the cosmos? — dabihawks, cosmic horror

i love gore and horror, can you tell? this fic marries that and my space hyperfixation. it's creepy, confusing, and dark. honestly, it's exactly what you expect an english and film student to write. and that is five of my favourite fics, not in any particular order but here nonetheless. i've been tired lately, and life has kind of sucked but also it's kinda better. it's weird, lol.

[zahri-melitor]

Batman: Hush

This was a mix of well-written, fun, and intensely irritating.

Let’s start with the good: the art. The dreamy watercolours used for all the flashbacks really sold the story. I spent plenty of time staring at how pretty they were.

It certainly delivered as a run through the Rogues Gallery and a good chunk of the Bat family, plus I am extremely weak for Lois Lane and Bruce Wayne flirting on purpose in public (and Lois-Clark-Bruce-Selina team ups). I really enjoyed the way it just pinged around the whole cast and there was a lot of "who hasn't had a scene yet? Well it's YOUR turn!"

It's also a story that is fun to read as a trade, but must have really shone to follow in serial, because you got a rogue or so a month ticked off the checklist of 'culprit' as you went through it, leading to all sorts of interesting speculation. Like, I NOTICED that we didn't get Bane or Penguin in this story, both of whom also would have been reasonable 'I know your secret' villain solutions to this, as it would have been, in order, 'further payback for the brother thing not being true' or 'your bad business mirror image in Gotham'. Cobblepot knowing Batman is Bruce Wayne would play really well when Penguin is being written as a genuine threat to Gotham and leaning into his underworld fixer skillset (rather than when he's being written as a joke character).

The annoying parts: Look I know this was in Batman, the comic that is explicitly about Batman, but wow was Bruce's reality altering field that forces everyone else to be subservient to his own plot was in effect. This is why I tend not to read straight Batman plots, because Bruce has a habit of overwhelming the autonomy of everyone else on the page.

Helena and Harold in particular got done dirty here. I THINK all of Helena's situation got handwaved away as Scarecrow's fault? And what was the point of having Harold back for a single page to talk for the first time and then be shot dead? Poor Harold, you have never been used as more than a crude plot device.

In terms of "cognitive dissonance with what is going on in other books right now", Tim specifically manipulating Selina at Bruce's request right as simultaneously over in Robin his 16th birthday is occurring is...well you ARE a bastard aren't you Bruce. And you're not going to apologise for it.

I had to laugh that as far as I can tell, someone in the future just went 'everything we wrote here about Jason sounds good, let's make it canonically true when we resurrect Jason'. Like seriously. In hindsight the sliding of all of this between 'unreality to fuck with Bruce' to 'nope, that's really Jason' did his character a disservice. (Also that weird line about 'Jason' being the same age as Nightwing may have caused the accidental Jason age up issue? JASON IS STILL SEVENTEEN HERE IF HE'S REAL, editorial)

Also, being reminded that THIS is the famous ‘Jason cut Tim’s throat’ moment. Hah. “I’ll need stitches but Catwoman got the bleeding stopped”. This is not a hugely traumatic moment for Tim, folks. It’s a cut that’s already been bandaged. (Also Hush cuts Bruce’s neck almost identically in the very next issue, where’s the matching angst over that?)

[femalehysteria420]

i want to kill myself like seriously i am so sick of livijgnlike how do you ever come back from lkterally getting fcuking raped and sexually assaulted not even just once but literally multipke times in the woods behind fucking target and in the gender neutral bathroom of the college i dropped out of besause im embarrassing and i genuinely think id slit my wrisds if i ever saw her face again but god i dont want to bother my friends anymore i can already feel [insert name] growing more and more exhausted and tired and fed up with my stupid schizoborderpolar insane shit and me constnatly being clingy and textiny web non stop i seriously just need to bite the dusr already i keep picturing a blade slicing into rhe veins of my wrists then slitting my throat open for good measure jesus christ i cant stop thinking about it i cant stop thinking about hurting myself and cutting myself opena nd killing myself and even numbers and numebrs and wordw and letters and phrases all blendiny together and not making sense anymore just absolute word salad abandoning all common sense and sensibility in generao lol thats a book i never rrad but god im falling apart again i keep thinking about every imperfection every errorthe left sode of my stomach itches but the top of the right side of my head itches too but i have to scratch both sides of both places in intervals of 4 repeated 4 times each with the same amount of pressure and with the same fingers and then i need to crack each part of each of my knuckles individually and count how many of them actually audibly crack and keep doing it until it forces them to crack until it lands on an even number and then i have to wait exafrly twent minutes and qnxiously watch my clock for the perfect time to repeat the same process so i feel safe knwoing i did it an even numher of times im paychotic im delusional im schizophrenic im trqumatized im borderline im on the verge of walking out into the night and praying i get hit by a car but its kind of funny isnt it i think im this close to the end but im doing just about anything and everything besides actually killing myself because i know that if i fail in my next attempt it will not only end in an odd number but i will also be forcibly hospitalized and quite frankly i think i would rather chew on glass and swallow it and feel my insides bleed out before i would set foot in that stupid fucking psych ward with the white walls and the patronizing nurses pumping you filled with these psychotropic drugs until you forget who you were and dont feel a thing anymore and all you have going for you is a bond with the other bipolar woman whos literally like gen x there who lost her mom the aame year you lost your grandmother and really enjoys beyonce and you just really enjoy hearing her talk and hearing about her interests because she really is lovely and treats you almost like her daughter but god i dont even know where im going with this stupid fucking post anymore i hope i die soon i hope we all die i especially hope she burns in hell for all eternity or maybe something worse than death can find her since what she did to me aas worth than death god i need to end this i need it to end im nothing its all crumbling i need to kill ymself so bad i just need to pull a trigger ill neevr feel anything good again except for whej im talking to my friends and it all dissipates the second i go home or they go offline and i know theyre sick of me i can feel it and i dont know how to make it so theyre not sick of me because im such an annoying pathetic miserable whiny bitch who cant get her shit together and never accepted shes a fucking full grown adult i seriously need a bullet through my skull i seriously need a byllet through my skull fall on your tongue like pixie dust just think happy thoughts this is bothiny but schizophrenic word vomit i seriously hope i get stabbed and bleed out or some shit i dont know how much i can go on living like this i hate being a rape survivor i dont see my death going by any other means than suicide or grey or james killing me themselves

[dongofthewolf]

Omg I’m sorry for not realizing u had a list 😅 but I wasn’t wondering if u could do 41 with Abby and could u make it like rlly angsty but with some fluff or smut at the end

Everything Good in Life Seems to Lead Back to You

Abby Anderson X Reader

Prompt: 41. Overhearing they have feelings for you

Warnings: blood and injury, canon typical violence, swearing, fluff, angst (I tried anon I tried), Owen slander once again (sorry not sorry)

Gender neutral pronoun for the reader (if you’d like your request to use specific pronouns please add to the ask)

Link to the prompt list here

A/N: it’s safe to say that I wrote this with the speed of a thousand blazing horses if that even makes any sense. I hope that you all enjoy this lovely word vomit (esp if you requested) it was a blast to write !!

btw the Virginia Woolf reference is from her letters to Vita Sackville and the Jane Austen one is from Pride and Prejudice. What can I say? I guess I’m just a hoe for old love, baby.

Abby spent a lot of time reading; so much so that she had created this false expectation of what love was supposed to feel like. Abby believed that love was supposed to be strong, and passionate, and bright—an everlasting devotion. Of course she shrugged it off at first, they were just books after all—pieces of fiction to fantasize and dream about. Love wasn’t something you could define in a book nor could it ever live up to the likes of Shakespeare or Virginia Woolf.

Abby had never been in love; she sometimes believes she came close to some iteration of it when she was with Owen, but looking back now she realized that what she felt wasn’t love. It was a desperate attempt to be wanted—to be needed, a manifestation of her desire for approval. And after her falling out with him, Abby had come to accept that she simply wasn’t made for love, and that if by some miracle she ever did fall, it definitely wouldn’t be like the books.

That was Abby’s initial perspective on love, but oh how times have changed. The moment you waltzed into her life, every sad, pathetic notion she had about love was thrown out the window in a matter of seconds. Never in her most outrageous dreams did Abby expect to fall this hard, especially since the two of you were practically best friends.

In fact, it had been very platonic at first; Abby was your superior and you often worked together on missions. She didn’t know what compelled her to talk to you but when she did, the two of you hit it off immediately. You started training together, then working out together, and eventually you were spending almost every minute together. The two of you could literally correctly predict every thought that went through each other's head, all except of course (in Abby’s case) for one. It even got to the point where you both somehow knew when the other couldn’t sleep, so much so that Abby had grown accustomed to opening her door to see you holding a glass of milk and a plate of cookies like a little kid on Christmas. She had spent so many sleepless nights alone only to realize that the one thing she was missing, was you and your adorable midnight snacks.

Abby never entertained the thought of professing her slightly less than platonic feelings for you, because she had become content with the idea that you’d simply never feel the same. However, while she had come to accept her unfortunate situation to be a permanent one, it still hurt her when she saw you flirt with other people. And she’d be lying if she said your absentminded touches didn’t still send her soaring. Sometimes she hated how naturally affectionate you were, it made it so hard for her to not love you.

The box that Abby had continually shoved herself into so she wouldn’t fuck up your friendship was almost starting to feel like home, and as uncomfortable as it was, she knew it was for the best. Almost nothing could compel Abby to leave this torturous, self-inflicted prison she was trapped in. Almost nothing.

—

The mission was supposed to be a simple one: get in, get the weapons, get out. A mission so simple, the both of you could’ve done it in your sleep. In fact, on a few occasions after a long night of drinking, you had practically done just that. You met up with the group of traders who you were well acquainted with, and the deal went down smoothly. Everything was going according to plan, which is why you and Abby were completely caught off guard when a group of rogue hunters suddenly began firing shots like it was a fucking carnival.

Turns out there was a new rival group in town, and someone had tipped them off. You and Abby luckily were able to find cover from their relentless fire, but not before you got a bullet straight through your left thigh. You didn’t even realize it at first, the adrenaline coursing through your veins still working to protect you from the devastating pain that was to come. When you did notice it, you had already lost copious amounts of blood. Then the dizziness began to set in, and soon after the pain. Abby hadn’t even realized you were injured till you slumped over on the ground next to her.

Looking down in horror, Abby lifted you into her arms. “Y/N? What’s wrong? Why are y-” Then Abby noticed the blood, and suddenly she was panicking. “Oh shit. Oh fuck, Y/N we have to get you out of here.”

“T-the package, we need the package. Can’t leave without it.” Your response was weak, desperate. You had to finish the mission, the WLF was in dire need of these supplies and you were not going to be the one to tell Isaac you failed.

“Fuck the package, we need to get you back to base.” Abby removed her belt, turnoqueting your leg with such surprising ease that you nearly didn’t notice the agonizing pain in your leg. Nearly.

You groaned when Abby hoisted you into her arms bridal style, careful not to move your leg too much before she booked it to the truck. When she plopped you down into the passenger's seat and began to speed away from the scene, you suddenly felt your eyes becoming heavier. You were so tired. You had lost so much blood already and your body felt like it was shutting down.

Abby was frantically racing towards the base, eyes fixed to the road until she heard you let out a small whine. “Abby, I‘m so tired. Need to sleep.”

Abby noticed you drifting off and she reached her arm out to shake your shoulder violently. “No. No sleeping, you gotta stay awake Y/N.”

Though Abby didn’t mention it, she was terrified. When she looked over at you, you were pale and cold to the touch, drifting off while your leg continued to bleed profusely despite her tourniquet. This could be it; you could die right now, and Abby would have lost the one person in this world she cared about most. She couldn’t let that happen, she wouldn’t.

You were equally as terrified as Abby; every natural instinct in your body was begging for you to sleep and you were becoming tired of trying to ignore it. The last thing you remembered was the look on the face of the girl you had fallen for, her eyes brimming with tears while she wore a desperate, horrified expression.

—

You laid unconscious for what felt like an eternity and Abby never left your side. She had abandoned her duties (with Isaac’s permission) and spent every second next to you, her head resting on the edge of your bed while she waited for you to wake up. The only thing that prompted Abby to step away was Manny, who had heard what happened and went to check on her.

Manny knew full and well that Abby was in love with you; in fact, almost all of Abby’s friends knew. Abby had confided in him during many torturous nights and he was a surprisingly good listener. He understood her circumstances and never pushed her to confess her feelings for you, even if it did annoy him how oblivious Abby was to the fact that you obviously felt the same way. “Abby, I heard what happened. Is everything okay?”

Abby was exhausted, she hadn’t slept at all since you made it back to the base and she couldn’t get the memory of your cold, pale body out of her head. “I almost lost them, Manny. Y/N could’ve died out there without ever knowing how I feel about them.” Tears threatened to fall but Abby did her best to keep her composure.

“It’s going to be okay, Abby. Y/N’s here and they’re alive, and that’s all that matters.” Manny’s hand was on Abby’s shoulder, trying his best to comfort her. “You should tell them how you feel though.”

“Huh?” Abby hadn’t expected that. Manny knew her situation well enough to know that telling you how she felt was a bad idea… It was a bad idea, right?

“It’s like you said, Y/N could’ve died without ever knowing how you feel about them. Wouldn’t it be better to have no regrets at all?” The words stopped Abby in her tracks. She never thought she’d actually agree with Manny.

“It’s just- I love Y/N so much, and I don’t want to lose them this way.” Abby was on the brink of tears, her voice turning into a desperate plea.

“I’m not going anywhere Abs.”

Abby froze, turning around slowly. You were gripping to the doorway for support, limping on one leg and looking extremely weathered.

“Y/N!” Abby immediately ran to put your arm around her shoulder while she carried you back to your bed, setting you down carefully. “You shouldn't be on your leg, you could make it worse.”

There was genuine concern on Abby’s face and in that moment you weren’t sure you could love her any more than you already did. She was so incredibly sweet and caring and no one had ever shown this much concern for your safety and well-being. You had heard her through the door and you couldn’t stop yourself from interrupting her. There was so much about Abby you absolutely adored and she had no idea. How could she not have known you were hopelessly in love with her? Was she truly that oblivious to your obvious flirting? All the subtle touches, the pathetic excuses to sleep in her bed, the fact you literally went out of your way to find rare coins so you could bring them back to her, it all just flew over her head. You couldn’t believe it.

Abby was still rambling about your leg, clearly trying to pretend like she didn’t just profess her love for you while you were standing right behind her. Instead of speaking, you wrapped your hands around her neck before leaning in, silencing her with a kiss so perfect you could’ve passed out right there. You could tell she was stunned at first, but soon enough she was kissing you back. Her fingers were running through your hair and when you pulled away she leaned her forehead against yours, not wanting to part from you.

“Did you mean it?” You pulled away to look Abby in the eyes, your hands still wrapped around her shoulders.

Abby had a dumbstruck look on her face. “Mean what?”

“When you said you loved me, did you mean it?” Your eyes searched her face for an answer while your heart was beating a million miles a minute.

Abby smiled, her eyebrows furrowed as she spoke. “Y/N, I have loved you for as long as I can remember. I’m so hopelessly in love with you that it’s almost pathetic. You have no idea how essential to me you have become—how many nights I’ve stayed awake because you weren’t there to hog all the blankets. Y/N, you have no idea how ardently I love you.”

You smirked “Abigail Anderson did you just quote Virginia Woolf and Jane Austen?” You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, Abby could be such a nerd sometimes.

“I just confessed my ever-lasting love for you and that’s the first thing you say?” Abby was smiling widely now, relief flowing through her now that she no longer had to conceal her feelings for you.

“I love you too Abs, so fucking much. Also I do not hog the blankets, your comforter is simply too small.” Abby chuckled before she leaned in for another kiss, the worry suddenly disappearing the moment her lips touched yours.

Although Abby had never really known what she expected love to be, this is what she imagines it’d feel like, and you bet your ass it was better than the books. To tell the truth, it was better than any other conceivable thing on this entire planet. Nothing could beat the way Abby felt now that she had finally broken free from her excruciating self-inflicted prison.

Abby pulled away from the kiss, gazing at you lovingly. “Are you hungry?”

God damn Abby, it was like she knew exactly what you were thinking. You didn’t know how long you had been unconscious for, but you were ravenous. “Starving.”

And almost as if you were telepathically communicating, the both of you spoke at the exact same time.

“Cookies?”

“Cookies.”

[g-on-ef]

Rant

Okay you know what has been bugging me since episode five if helluva boss aired ??? How much of an asshole Stolas is to Blitz !!?

Like I use to ship Stoliz but after this episode I can't help but be angry and annoyed wit Stolas and all the shit he's done.

Let's look at episode one, Blitz is running for his life because Martha is hunting him down, hes wounded and bleeding probably scared that he might die.

Stolas called him while he was hiding from her ... The fucked up thing he knew what Blitz was doing and the danger he was in.

Instead of trying to save him or anything he bribed him and Blitz annoyed, tired, and trying to survive agree to it just so that he could end the call and have one less thing to worry about.

Blitz even told him that it wasn't a good time to call but instead of leaving it alone he kept pushing until he got what he wanted which is fucked up I don't care how you look at it that shit was fucked up.

In retrospect it almost seem like he kept wearing him down until Blitz finally submitted to him and said yes.

Stolas saw a moment where Blitz was vulnerable and took advantage of it so that he could get what he wanted from him

The next episode Loo Loo Land Stolas was always talking down on him, not once did Stolas took Blitz seriously like he agreed to be a bodyguard and whenever he tried to remind him he was only there to guard him Stolas talked down on him, not to mentioned whenever Blitz tried to do his job Stolas was there to flirt with him.

Also the line

"You are so cute when you are being serious"

Okay as someone who has been talk down before this is exactly what it felt like Stolas talking down on him as of he not only didn't take him seriously but also found it funny that he was capable of such a thing

A lot of y'all would say oh but he was just telling him what a good job he was doing or something like that but honestly this is another example of Stolas not taking Blitz seriously, hell he said it was thrilling to see him on the job but he was always being flirtatious and not really acknowledging Blitz skills

And now episode five ... oh I have a lot of to say about this episode let's start off with how Stolas took every opportunity he could to remind Blitz that he's an imp literally the first five minutes in he reminds Blitz that his book is not meant for itsy imps like yourself in that annoying baby voice.

Also I wanna add that Stolas acted like Blitz was an idiot and didn't know the importance of the book.

"As shocking as it may seem Blitzy my book is actually incredibly important"

{I can't spell grimroa so yeah I'm saying book instead}

As if Blitz doesn't know it's important like come on in episode one he asked if the book was fine yes they needed it to get to the surface but I'm pretty sure he knows it's important Stolas on the other hand acts as if Blitz doesn't know at all the importance of the book.

In the games Blitz is once again annoyed wit Stolas for calling him Blitzy and even yells at him to say his name right.

I also wanna point out how Stolas kept reminding everyone {including Blitz} that they were nothing but commoners, who's only purpose is to serve the elite.

Now let's look at Striker,

Striker respects Blitz wanna know how ??? He CALLS HIM BY THE NAME HE PREFERS !!!

I cannot stress enough how important that is, especially when Blitz is constantly reminding everyone that he goes by Blitz.

Since he knew about Blitz starting his own company he probably knows Blitz name is spell wit an O but it's silent now and Striker calls him by that name.

Not only that he compliments him and the way he says it shows he genuinely respects Blitz and while Blitz isn't sure how to take it Striker praises him and let's him know how impress he is for him to start his own business, seduce Stolas, and all his other accomplishments.

Let's also look how Striker included Blitz yes it was just skinning a pig but he still went out his way to include him in an activity also the fact he asked him if wanted to do this was actually nice because he gave Blitz a choice and didn't kept going until he said yes.

I may be reading to much into it but I still love how Striker wanted Blitzs company and didn't force him to join him to do something.

And even when he betrayed him Striker was still giving Blitz a choice he could've threaten him, beat him do all sorts of things but Striker still gave Blitz a choice

Personally after watching episode five Stolitz isn't as good as I thought it was.

Especially since we are five episodes in and have yet to see these two care or have any type of chemistry whatsoever

Hell Blitz had more passion and chemistry wit both Striker and Verosika ... but that's just my thought on the matter

[eliemo]

The Incident- Part 2

Summary: Sometimes, it’s dangerously easy to spiral...but Virgil’s family isn’t going anywhere. 

TW: Blood and injury treatment (nothing too graphic but stay safe), panic attacks, mentions of flashbacks, past abuse 

Masterpost

Taglist: @self-taught-mess @itawalrus @mygenderisidiot @a-very-gay-raccoon @dawnfire7 @cr4zyart @ray-does-stuff @whydoifeeltheneedtoorganizestuff @bunny222 (If i missed someone or u wanna be added just let me know!) 

Roman didn’t get back until after dinner, the sun setting with brilliant orange light in the windows, still far too hopped up on adrenaline and brimming with new ideas to even think about eating yet.

He was sprawled out on the couch with his feet in Logan's lap, despite the logical side’s halfhearted protests, lamenting about his recent adventures and the inspiration they’d brought for the newest script.

Logan was pretending not to be listening, but Roman caught sight of an almost invisible smile, pride blossoming in his chest as he continued.

Virgil hadn’t come down in a few hours at least, apparently locking himself in his room due to a stomach ache earlier in the afternoon, and Patton’s worry had finally taken over, the moral side heading into the kitchen to heat up a plate of leftovers to take upstairs.

“Make sure to get him some water, too,” Logan called after him, momentarily silencing Roman’s tale. “He needs to stay hydrated.”

For a few moments, nothing changed, Roman falling back into his story, Logan’s attention switching from the creative side to the open book in his lap, the prince’s voice easily drowning out the hum of the microwave in the next room.

“Logan?” Patton called suddenly. “Did you...you didn’t break a cup or something today, did you?”

Logan froze, looking up from his book to meet Roman’s suddenly worried gaze, the living room plunged into an uneasy silence.

“No,” he answered carefully, slowly pushing Roman’s legs off of him. “Why?”

A beat of silence, followed by a bit of shuffling. “There’s a lot of glass in the trash...and I don’t--”

Roman was already off the couch before Patton yelped, the creative side racing into the kitchen and nearly crashing right into Patton, who’d been rushing for the living room.

“There’s blood,” he said, before anyone could ask any questions. “There- there’s blood...a lot of blood on the glass in- in the trash can I...Virgil, I- I didn’t realize he was--”

“Try to remain calm,” Logan said, already making his way towards the stairs. Patton grabbed Roman’s hand, the two following close behind. “We don’t know what happened yet.”

They made it to Virgil’s room, the door closed and the room seemingly quiet, and Roman stepped back to allow Patton to knock, well aware his own presence could possibly be overwhelming.

“Virgil?” Patton called, unable to keep the slight nervous tremble out of his voice. “Can we come in, kiddo?”

There was no reply, no sound from the other side of the door, and Roman didn’t miss the way Logan’s frown deepened at the lack of a response.

“We aren’t mad, baby,” Patton added, hand hovering over the doorknob. “We just wanna make sure you’re not hurt.”

After a moment of silence and an encouraging nod from Logan, Patton pushed open the thankfully unlocked door, (Roman had been more than ready to kick it down if he had to) freezing in his tracks as soon as he stepped inside.

Peering over the moral side’s shoulder, Roman could see why.

Virgil’s room was empty, bed still made and lights off, everything almost eerily still and silent. The bathroom was just as empty, the lights off and the door left ajar.

Patton whirled around, eyes wide and already filling with terrified tears. “Logan--”

“Both of you remain calm,” Logan instructed, like he wasn’t obviously seconds away from losing it himself. “Patton, come with me downstairs.”

“But he--”

“I need to get the first-aid kit,” he said. “Roman, will you keep looking up here? If we can’t find him, we’ll go to Thomas.”

It was fine. It was probably fine. Virgil’s room was likely just amplifying their stress, and making them all freak out for no reason. They’d find him, and he’d pretend to be annoyed at all the attention and worry, but Roman wouldn’t be able to help pointing out the anxious side’s rising blush.

That was how it always was.

Roman double checked Virgil’s room as the others made their way back downstairs, just to be safe, frantically checking under the bed and behind the shower curtain, all too aware of Virgil's habit of finding strange places to nap or zone out to music.

But the room was vacant, abandoned, and Roman couldn’t escape out into the hall fast enough, carefully shutting the door behind him.

Unwittingly, his mind traveled back to the last time they couldn’t find Virgil. When he’d tried to disappear, duck out for good, all because Roman never bothered to offer him a shred of kindness, none of them caring enough to see just how badly he was hurting--

He almost didn’t hear it, so caught up in his own thoughts and panic, but the tiny, choking sound from the closet at the end of the hall snapped him out of his own head.

“Virgil?” Roman called, heart sinking when there wasn’t a reply. “You over there, Hot Topic?”

His only answer was faint, labored breathing, barely audible, and Roman quickened his pace, taking a shaky breath before pulling open the closet door.

The first thing he saw was Virgil, huddled up in his usual patchwork hoodie, pressed tight into the closet’s limited space.

The initial relief at finding the other side safe quickly vanished when Roman took a step closer, dread clawing at his throat as he took in the sight.

Virgil had curled up into a tight ball, visibly trembling, eyes only half open and staring ahead at nothing, his gaze distant and glassy. His hands were pressed over his ears, and running down his arms…

Oh, god. That...that was a lot of blood.

“Virgil! Virgil, can you hear me?”

If Roman was a bit more put together at the moment, he would have moved slower or gone to get Patton or Logan to coax the anxious side out of his hiding place.

But all he could see was the blood- the fact that Virgil was hurt and Roman needed to help. He couldn’t afford to wait.

Carefully, he dropped to one knee and reached forward, placing a gentle hand on Virgil’s leg.

The reaction was immediate, Virgil jolting under the touch pressing back even further against the wall, bloody and cut up hands held up like he was trying to protect himself.

His eyes met Roman’s, growing wide in genuine terror, and the prince felt his heart break at the sight.

“I’m sorry,” Virgil was saying before Roman even had a chance to open his mouth. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please, I’m sorry--”

“It’s alright,” Roman tried, doubting Virgil even heard. “But you’re bleeding, Virge. We gotta take care of that, ok? Logan can’t patch you up until you come out.”

Virgil shook his head, frantic. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to break it, it- it was an accident I swear, I tried to- tried to clean it up, I thought--”

Roman swore under his breath, glancing at the still empty hallway behind him. He knew he shouldn’t ever rush an attack like this, well aware Virgil was terrified and unable to think clearly but…

But aside from the bloody gashes across his palms and fingers, Roman could see a few smaller pieces of glass still wedged in the broken skin. He’d had those wounds for a few hours now at least. They didn’t have time.

“I’m so sorry, darling,” he whispered, squeezing his eyes shut for just a moment. “You’ll be alright.”

And then, without giving Virgil a chance to process the movement, Roman cupped one hand under Virgil’s legs, the other around his back, and lifted him off the floor, holding him to his chest.

He wasn’t sure what he’d thought would happen, but he certainly hadn’t expected Virgil to scream and flail like Roman had come at him with a weapon.

“Please don’t please,” he was begging, breaths quickly dissolving into frantic wheezes. “I’m sorry I hid I...I- I didn’t mean to lie I just thought...I thought…”

They were both talking in circles, desperately apologizing over each other, Roman holding him tighter as he made his way down the hall, Virgil fighting blindly to break from Roman’s hold.

“Virgil!”

Patton was bounding up the stairs first, hand over his mouth and tears in his eyes when he made it to the top step, Logan hot on his heels.

“Roman, what are you--”

“He’s bleeding, Logan!” Virgil was burying his head in Roman’s chest, even as he fought to escape, refusing to even glance at the others. “I didn’t...I don’t know what to--”

“Bring him into the bathroom,” Logan said, pushing past Patton, first-aid kit in his hand. “Hurry.”

Roman followed, flashing what he hoped was a reassuring smile to Patton, who was trying to comfort Virgil with words that clearly weren’t getting through.

“Sit him on the counter,” Logan instructed, turning on the sink and setting the metal box down on the closed toilet seat. “Try to keep him calm.”

That was easier said than done. As soon as Virgil lifted his head from Roman’s chest his fighting increased tenfold, thrashing and crying and begging as Roman and Patton struggled to keep him still.

What did he think they were trying to do to him?  

“Roman,” Logan said, running a clean towel under the faucet. “I need you to get behind him and hold him still. Patton, keep him from kicking please.”

Patton blinked, frozen in the doorway. “I- I can’t--”

“Patton, please.” Roman had maneuvered himself until he was standing behind the anxious side, arms wrapped around his chest and shoulders as Logan carefully reached for his bloody hands. “Try and get him to focus. Tell him he’s safe.”

The request was enough to snap Patton out of his own panic, the moral side wiping away his gathering tears and rushing towards the others. He held down Virgil’s legs with one hand, cupping his jaw in the other while Logan carefully but firmly took a hold of his wrists.

“Hey, honey,” Patton whispered, voice breaking when Virgil only choked back a terrified sob. “Just focus on me, alright? Look at me, sweetie. It’s Patton. It’s Dad. I’m right here.”

For a second Virgil’s breathing slowed, just a fraction. And then he flinched so hard Roman nearly lost his grip. Glancing over at the sink, he winced when he saw Logan carefully taking a pair of tweezers to the pieces of glass still stuck in Virgil’s skin.

“I’m so sorry, Virgil,” he muttered, barely audible over Virgil’s breathing picking up again. “It will be over soon.”

Thankfully, there wasn’t too much leftover glass in his skin, Logan soon setting aside the tweezers and guiding Virgil’s hands under the water. But still, Roman couldn’t imagine how badly that hurt, or what Virgil thought was happening in his panicked state.

“I need to clean the cuts to keep them from getting infected,” Logan said after a minute, rummaging through the first-aid kit. “Hold him very still, please.”

There was barely a warning, just a slight nod from Logan a few seconds later before he was pressing something against the skin and Virgil jumped, frantically trying to break away, crying out against the pain.

There was a sob that might have been from him or Patton, but there was no way for Roman to know for sure. Not when he was so focused on not letting Virgil go, not until he wasn’t a danger to himself.

“Please,” Virgil choked out, breathing still too quick and unsteady even as Patton counted out breathing exercises. “Pl- please, I’m sorry, I’m sorry--”

“Focus on my voice, honey.”

“I- I’m sorry for hiding, I’m sorry, it...I- I won’t do it again, I promise, I’m sorry just stop , please please, I’m sorry…”

And Roman felt his heart shatter.

Virgil thought this was a punishment. He thought they were hurting him on purpose.

“Logan--”

“I know, Roman,” Logan snapped, a distinct wavering to his voice. “I’m almost finished.”

Logan kept working, cleaning and wiping the blood away with quick but careful movement, growing visibly more tense with each one of Virgil’s pleads.

“You’re ok, honey,” Patton kept saying. “You’re ok. I’m right here, you’ll be ok soon. We’re all here. We’re gonna help you.”

Roman couldn’t seem to find his voice, just held on tight and rested his forehead against Virgil’s trembling shoulder, listening to his racing heart and ragged breathing, hoping the contact would do something to ground him.

It felt like hours- hours of Virgil begging his family not to hurt him, Roman helpless to do anything but watch- before Logan finally finished, wrapping his hands in bandages.

“All done,” Roman said softly. He loosened his hold when Virgil, still trembling, went almost limp in his grasp. “You’re ok, Virge. You did so well, I’m so so sorry.”

Virgil didn’t respond, eyes still wide and terrified, letting out a noise that sounded like a desperate whimper.

Patton took a careful step back, letting his hands fall to his side. “Let’s get you to bed, alright kiddo?”

Virgil still didn’t speak, his apologies having fallen silent since Logan stopped treating his wounds, the anxious side only squeezing his eyes shut and hunching his shoulders, like he was waiting for more pain.

Roman took the hint and gently gathered Virgil into his arms again, blinking away tears when he flinched at the movement.

They took Virgil back to his room, Logan bringing sleeping pills and a glass of water from the medicine cabinet.

It took a few moments to convince Virgil to take them, the anxious side frantically scrambling to get as far away from the others as he could as soon as he was set down on his bed.

But eventually, (mostly because Virgil seemed terrified of what would happen if he didn’t comply) they got him tucked under the blankets, still teary and shivering, refusing to open his eyes.

He wouldn’t let them go anywhere near him, Patton having to step out of the room when he realized Virgil’s breathing only quickened the closer they got to the bed.

It took some time, Logan doing what he could to keep Virgil’s breathing under control, Roman and Patton hovering in the doorway, but the anxious side’s eyes eventually slipped closed, succumbing to his exhaustion.

“I should have checked on him,” Patton said when they were back in the living room, squeezing Roman’s hand so tight he thought it might bruise. “He said- he...I should have known to--”

“It’s not your fault, Pat,” Roman said. “You were just giving him some space. And he’ll be fine when he wakes up, right Logan?”

He didn’t answer, the logical side lowering himself onto the armchair and reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

It wasn’t until his breath caught in his throat, Logan’s hand suddenly pressed against his mouth to muffle any sound, that Roman realized something was wrong.

Patton was up off the couch in an instant, Roman close behind, but Logan quickly shook his head, moving away from outstretched hands.

He took a few heavy breaths, slowly moving his hand away from his mouth, gaze locked on the floor. Roman could see how red and watery his eyes were, even as he blinked rapidly to get rid of the gathering tears.

“Apologies,” Logan said, and Roman’s breath caught at how broken he was trying not to sound. “Please...please disregard…”

“Honey, no.” Patton kneeled in front of the chair, a steadying hand on Logan’s knee, and Roman moved to clutch at his shoulder. “Don’t keep it in. You’re allowed to be upset.”

Logan shook his head again, looking anywhere but Patton. “I am...I am logic. I am not supposed to--”  

“Will you cut the bullshit, Specs?”

Patton gasped. “Roman!”

Roman didn’t bother correcting his language. He squeezed Logan’s shoulder, knowing it helped to calm Virgil down and only able to hope it did the same for the logical side.

“You’re allowed to feel,” he said. “You can feel whatever you want whenever you want. You don’t need to pretend like you don’t.”

Logan shook his head once again, even as a few stray tears escaped and Roman wiped them away with his thumb. “It’s...it isn’t logical for me to be--”

“Emotions don’t have to make sense,” Patton said gently. “And no one’s going to think of you any differently for feeling.”

“You were trying to help Virgil,” Roman added. “You were trying to save him, and he thought you were hurting him. I’d say it’s fairly logical to be upset after that.”

And that was apparently enough to break the dam, a choked sob escaping from Logan, and this time he didn’t try to fight against it.

Roman rubbed his back as he tipped forward, forehead resting against Patton’s chest, the moral side crying along with him as he cupped the back of Logan’s neck.

“It’s ok,” he muttered. “We’ll be ok. It’ll be better in the morning.”

Logan curled further into Patton, clutching at his blue shirt. “I hurt him, I...I had to hurt him.”

“You were helping him,” Roman corrected, shifting positions to wrap his arms around both Logan and Patton. The angle was a bit awkward, but they seemed to relax slightly. “If you waited any longer, it just would have been worse. He’ll understand that when he calms down.”

“What if he doesn't?”

Roman wasn’t used to this. He wasn’t used to being the one to calm Logan down, to talk him through a problem. As relieved as he was that Logan wasn’t forcing himself to stay put together...he wasn’t entirely sure what to do.

“Then we’ll figure it out,” Patton jumped in, glancing up to smile through his tears. “Because we love him. And that’s never gonna change.”

They were silent after that and Roman forced himself to relax under Patton’s optimism, as forced as it clearly was. There was no way to tell what Virgil would think when he woke up.

Not for the first time, Roman thought about grabbing his sword and hunting down each and every person who had ever dared to lay a hand on Virgil with malicious intent, every person who had ever let him feel worthless and unwanted.

But then again, if he were to go that far he’d have to turn his own blade on himself.

Things were different now, though. And while he and Virgil hadn’t always gotten along in the past, Roman had never once considered hurting him. No one deserved the treatment Virgil had been given.

He didn’t understand. He couldn’t comprehend how anyone could see Virgil- sweet, scared, and caring Virgil , and decide they wanted to hurt him. Break him down until he was terrified of making the smallest mistake, convinced no one could ever accept him.

“He didn’t deserve it,” Roman said suddenly, not really meaning to speak out loud. “What they did to him. Virgil didn’t deserve that.”

“Of course he didn’t,” Patton said, with so much raw pain and hurt that Roman was once again forcibly reminded that Patton wasn’t just at the core of happy emotions. “But he’s safe now. Sometimes he’s just...gonna have to be reminded of that.”

And they would remind him. Over and over again if they had to. Like Patton said, they would figure it out.

When Virgil woke up, it was to a foggy head and a throbbing, itching sensation in his hands.

He finally blinked open his eyes when, after trying to scratch at his palms, he found only tightly woven bandages and a new spark of white hot pain up his arm.

Slowly, careful not to put any weight on his hands, he sat up in bed and leaned up against the headboard, suddenly weak and shaky as the whole room momentarily started to spin. He shut his eyes, walking himself through his breathing as he let the memories from yesterday wash over him.

Right. The broken glass, the panic attack, trying to hide and then…

Oh shit. God, what had he done? He couldn’t quite focus, couldn’t really remember where his thoughts had been through the whole ordeal, but it wasn’t hard to put the pieces together as they all came flooding back.

He couldn’t even imagine how much he’d upset them. God, they were probably terrified. They’d just wanted to help and all he’d done was panic and fought, completely losing control just because of one stupid mistake.

A mistake that would have gotten him days of pain before…

But it wasn’t like that anymore. He should know that by now. The others tried so hard to help and he still couldn’t even control himself.

They’d...they’d never seen him panic like that before. He’d definitely done a number on his hands without even realizing, and he’d been too far gone to differentiate between help and punishment.

They’d thought he was getting better. They often told him how much progress he was making, even if Virgil couldn’t see it himself.

Well, obviously...obviously they wouldn’t think that anymore. Jesus, he’d locked himself in a closet covered in blood for who knew how long.

Honestly, what the hell was the point in keeping him? Why would they want him to stick around if all he did was terrify and hurt the people he loved?

Logan had said Virgil helped them. Roman had once said he made them better. Patton promised they all love him.

He was having a difficult time focusing on any that right now, forcing himself out of bed and stumbling to the bathroom.

Virgil took one look at himself in the mirror and quickly turned away, a dangerous wave of self loathing immediately rising in his chest.

He should probably tell someone about that. Assuming they would still be able to look him in the eyes after last night.

Besides, he looked awful. His hair was horribly disheveled and his makeup was fading and smeared all the way down his face, eyes heavy and bloodshot.

His hoodie was neatly folded on the counter, cleaned of any bloodstains, along with a roll of clean bandages and a bottle of disinfectant.

Good. He wasn’t about to force anyone to take care of him again.

He changed his clothes and washed his face, not in any particular rush to leave his room, each movement making him more and more lightheaded, his hands protesting every little thing he did.

He couldn’t even put on his makeup, the pain too intense and hands too unsteady when he tried to grab the brush, nothing to hide the natural bags under his eyes, nothing to hide how pitiful and scared he looked.

It took a good ten minutes to get his bandages off, biting his lip to keep from crying out as he peeled off the paper, grimacing when he saw the far from healed cuts that littered his fingers and palms.

He’d done that to himself without even realizing it. There’d probably been glass stuck in his hands before someone came along and practically forced him to accept help. And he’d fought back like nothing had changed, like he was being punished, brain running on autopilot.

God, he was pathetic. Maybe he should just stay up here forever, isolate himself like he used to. He’d never have to be afraid of disappointing anyone again, and he doubted the thought had never crossed the other’s minds.

It...it wasn’t a bad idea. He hated it, of course. The thought of losing his family hurt worse than rubbing the disinfectant on his wounds.

He loved them. He loved what he had more than anything. But it wasn’t fair. He wasn’t getting better, that much was clear now. They deserved to be happy. And they couldn’t have that with him hanging around.

But he at least owed them an apology first. He wanted to make sure they knew they hadn’t done anything wrong.

So he wrapped up his hands as best he could with fresh bandages, taking a shaky breath before slipping on his hoodie. Pulling up the hood was the best defense mechanism he had right now, and the familiar warmth of the cloth offered a small amount of comfort.

It was almost eleven in the morning by now, which meant the others already had breakfast hours ago.

Virgil did his best to convince himself that they wanted to let him sleep in, and not that they just didn’t want him around.

It was annoyingly difficult to make it downstairs, his head pounding and vision strangely blurred. He almost wished he could just go back to bed and sleep the rest of the day away.

But he was at the bottom step without even fully realizing he’d kept moving, freezing when he glanced up at the living room.

Patton, Roman, and Logan were seated on the couch, the TV turned on low to what was probably an old Disney movie, the three very obviously paying little attention to the screen. Patton and Roman were restless, Logan staring blankly, lost deep in thought.

They were waiting. Waiting for him . And suddenly Virgil really wanted to go back to his room and sleep for the rest of his life.

But that wasn’t fair to them. Nothing he did seemed to be lately. He stepped off the stairs, still using the railing to keep himself balanced, and cleared his throat.

“Uh, m-morning guys.” He hadn’t meant to stutter, and he winced at how broken and cracked his voice was, vaguely remembering screaming the night before.

Immediately, all eyes in the room were on him and Virgil had to fight the urge not to flee and lock himself in a closet again.

“Morning, Kiddo!” Patton moved like he was going to rush over and hug him, quickly stopping himself as Roman put a hand on his shoulder. Right. No one was going to want to hug him right now. “How’d you sleep?”

Virgil shrugged, staring firmly at the ground and trying not to sway. “Fine. No nightmares this time.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Logan said, standing along with the others. “But you’re likely still exhausted. Why don’t you take a seat?”

Virgil didn’t see a reason to argue, making his way to the empty armchair, knowing there was absolutely no way to hide how unsteady he was on his feet.

“Virgil,” Logan said when he was settled, and Virgil braced himself for the worst. “When was the last time you ate?”

Oh. Right, that would...probably explain his killer headache. “Uh, breakfast. Yesterday.”

Patton made a startled noise, already hurrying towards the kitchen before Virgil could muster up the strength to stop him.

The rest of them were left in heavy silence, Virgil refusing to look up from his lap while he absently picked at his bandages, until Patton returned moments later with a piece of bread with jam, and a cup of iced water.

Ice water in a plastic cup. He tried not to think about the implications of that.

“Thank you,” he muttered, and tried to ignore the fact that everyone was probably staring at him as he shakily picked up the piece of bread.

He was starving, but the anxiety churning in his gut was making him feel like he might throw up, and the last thing he needed to do was make another mess. So he ate his food slowly, sipping idly at the water, wincing at the lingering pain in his throat.

When he finished, he set down the now half empty cut, folded his hands in his lap and waited for the inevitable.

“Alright,” Logan said after a moment, and Virgil tried not to flinch. “I...believe we should talk about what happened last night.”

“Logan,” Roman chided, sounding more scared than upset. “He just woke up.”

“No, it’s fine,” Virgil said. The thought of delaying any longer was somehow even worse, and he didn’t need everyone pretending things were ok when they so clearly weren’t. “We can...we can talk about it now.”

A part of him, the part that had been in complete control yesterday, expected to be yelled at. He’d ruined their night, their lives, and he had the audacity to come down here like he was still welcome.

He pushed that voice away, and risked a glance up when he was met with silence, catching Logan sharing a small frown with Patton and Roman.

The logical side inched closer, taking a breath before speaking again. “How much do you remember?”

“Most of it, I think,” Virgil said. “I know...I know you guys weren’t, uh, trying to hurt me. For breaking that glass. I mean, I didn’t yesterday but...I know that now.”

He hadn’t thought he’d needed to say it, but that was quickly disproven by how quickly the tension in everyone’s shoulders suddenly dropped, a watery smile growing on Patton’s face.

“I must have really freaked out, huh?” Like the loss of his voice wasn’t proof enough, memories of his own screams and his family’s frantic apologies. “I-I’m sorry you guys, I didn’t--”

“You were having a panic attack,” Logan said, calm as ever. “As well as what were likely some very intense flashbacks. There is no need to apologize for that.”

“Right.” He was always told not to apologize, not to blame himself. It didn’t get rid of the suffocating guilt. “I’m still sorry. For scaring you.”

“We were only scared because you were hurt!” Roman exclaimed. “You were practically bleeding out and you didn’t even seem to realize. We’d never seen you that far gone before!”

Virgil flinched, pulling his knees up to his chest, an old familiar defense. He knew Roman didn’t mean it as an accusation, but the guilt kept curling around him, tighter and tighter.

“We just want you to be safe,” Patton said, soft and quiet. “We don’t like seeing you in pain.”

Virgil nodded, not really sure what to say, digging his thumb into the palm of his hand like the sudden flare of agony could be of help. “I know.”

The room fell back into an awkward silence, Virgil warily shifting his gaze between the three of them, then back down at his own feet, wondering if they were waiting for him to say something.

“I think,” Patton spoke up after what felt like an eternity. “We should talk about why this happened.”

Right. Virgil had to tell him that they hadn’t done anything different or wrong, that he was just like this, and it was unpredictable and not worth the effort of trying to fix.

He opened his mouth to say just that, but Logan beat him to it.

“We assumed it was the glasses breaking,” he said. “Are we correct in that assumption?”

Virgil nodded, not trusting his voice at the moment, panic and guilt steadily building up as he half expected to be chided or told off. He’d made so many mistakes since being accepted, something as stupid as breaking a cup shouldn’t send him spiraling like that.

But Logan just gave a small smile in response, apparently pleased with the answer. “Please understand, Virgil, that it is completely reasonable for you to react so strongly.”

Virgil scoffed before he could stop himself, startling when there was suddenly a hand gently rested over his. He refused to look at Logan, clenching his jaw so tight he thought his teeth might break.

“It is,” Patton said from his spot by the couch. “You’d never...broken anything before. The other things you thought you’d be in trouble for were just...silly little things. We get that this might be...a bigger deal to you.”

“It’s…” Virgil paused, swallowing. “It’s still stupid.”

“It was a relapse, Virgil,” Logan corrected gently. “There’s no shame in something like this. Recovery is not linear. It never will be, and that’s quite alright.”

And this...this wasn’ fair. This wasn’t how they were supposed to be reacting. Virgil was horrible. He was terrible and awful and all he did was make everyone stressed and scared and miserable.

He’d screamed and fought when they were trying to help him, panicked over meaningless things too many times to count, and they still...why were they still being so patient with him? Why were they so nice?

Why would they give all this kindness to the person who deserved it the least?

“Perhaps,” Logan continued, when it was clear Virgil wasn’t going to answer. “We should inform you of what we’ve done in an attempt to ensure this doesn’t occur again.”

Virgil’s anxiety skyrocketed at that phrasing, wide eyes going immediately to Roman and Patton, but they just offered reassuring smiles and encouraging nods to Logan.

“The first thing we did was replace all glass cups and dishes with plastic ones,” Logan explained. “However, based on past experience I’ve determined that the sudden noise is also incredibly detrimental to your mental state.”

“I- I guess--”

“It’s only a temporary fix, of course, but we had Roman put a rug in the kitchen underneath the cabinets. It’s aesthetically pleasing- thanks to him, and it should muffle the sound if someone happens to drop something. Hopefully, that will alleviate some stress in the future.”

And Virgil...Virgil kind of wanted to throw up. Because that might be the nicest thing anyone had ever done for him.

He’d fucked up again, showed them that he was unfixable, and they’d responded by remodeling their kitchen.

“Of course it is not a- Virgil? Did I say something wrong?”

Virgil wasn’t sure when he started crying, but suddenly it was all too much, the guilt finally overwhelming. He was so unworthy- undeserving of every kind smile, every gesture, it made him sick.

He shook his head, the only sound he was able to manage being an awful sounding sob that worsened the pain in his throat, but at the moment he didn’t even care.

“What’s wrong?” Roman was asking, clearly distraught (Virgil had upset him again), and suddenly Patton was in front of him, gathering him into his arms.

Virgil knew he should pull away, refuse the comfort and distance himself. But he was selfish, melting into the warm embrace with another shuddering sob, unable to stop himself from holding on.

“Deep breaths, honey,” Patton said, voice barely a whisper. “Can you tell us why you’re upset? Are you just overwhelmed?”

He shook his head, taking a few desperate breaths, struggling to find his words.

“It’s...I...you shouldn’t do this. You shouldn’t have to do this. All of this. With- with the kitchen and the cups and the plates--”

Roman stepped closer, hand on the back of the chair. “Is it not going to help?”

“It will,” Virgil said, because it was perfect and they were perfect and that was the problem. “It will but it...it’s too much, and it’s just a hassle for you guys and I should just--”

It was Logan’s turn to cut him off, sounding painfully worried. “You...do you think we care more about the cups we use than your comfort?”

“It’s not about the cups!”  

He pulled away from Patton as soon as he realized he’d shouted, shame now mingling with the guilt, and Virgil had to forcibly remind himself to breathe.

“Sorry,” he gasped, shrinking back against the chair. “God, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to...I can’t do anything right and I just--”

“Hey.” Patton cupped his cheek, and Virgil quickly fell silent. “We both know that’s not true. Take a deep breath and tell us what’s wrong, ok?”

Virgil nodded, Logan and Roman watching patiently, Logan’s hand still gently cupping his own, keeping him from digging his nails into the bandages again.

After what he’d put them through last night, he needed to just get everything out in the open. The sooner the better.

“I’m not getting better,” he said, continuing over the expected protests. “I’m not. I know recovery isn’t linear or- or whatever, and you all say I’m making progress but...but last night was bad. And who knows if it’ll happen again, and I don’t...I never wanted to put you guys through something like that.”

“Virge,” Roman said. “It’s not your fault.”

Virgil wasn’t really in the mood to debate that. He couldn’t control it, as much as he tried, but it was still his fault the treatment had ever happened. He’d let himself get hurt, over and over again.

He shrugged, wiping at his eyes. “You guys are...you...you’re great. All of you. Nobody’s ever...done all of this for me. But I can’t do anything for you except...except make everything worse.”

“Virgil--”

“And I get it.” He couldn’t seem to stop now, desperate for it all to be over with. “And I know you all wouldn’t...say anything but, that’s ok. You- you’ve all helped me a lot. And I can...I can go back. I know it’s too much.”

Roman frowned, and Virgil felt him go very still. “Go back?”

“Yeah,” Virgil said. “You know, to...to how things used to be. Me up in my room all the time so you guys don’t have to keep dealing with this.”

Roman’s eyes widened, sharing a look with the others that could only be described as one of horror. “Virge, we’re not gonna ask you to leave!”

“I know!” Because that was the whole point, wasn’t it? They would never ask him to do that, no matter how much better things would be without him. They were too good. “I- I know you wouldn’t. That’s why I’m offering.”

It was the right thing to do. It was. They tried so hard, and they deserved so much better. And Virgil...Virgil was better off alone, anyway.

It would be ok. It shouldn’t hurt this bad.

“I love you guys.” It did. It did hurt this bad. “I don’t want to make things harder for you anymore.” It felt like his heart was being ripped from his chest. But this was for the best, this was--

There was a hand grabbing his chin, not hard enough to hurt, moving his head up until he was face to face with Logan. Logan, whose eyes were red and watery.

He’d made Logan upset. He’d made logic cry.

“Virgil,” he said, never averting his gaze. “You’re an idiot.”

“Logan!” Patton gasped, and suddenly there was another hand on Virgil’s shoulder. “He’s not angry, honey. You didn’t do anything.”

“I’m furious,” Logan said, and Virgil’s heart sank until he continued. “I’m furious at whoever left you feeling this way. Believe me when I say I will continue to do whatever I can to undo it. But you, Virgil, are an idiot if you can think for one minute that your trauma is all you have to offer.”

“Lo--”

“We love you, Virgil. All of you. That means your past, your mistakes, your relapses, all of it. Because that includes all of the good.”

“You make us better,” Roman added, sincere and strong. “I mean that every time I say it. You protect us, you bring us closer, and you make us happy.”

“I...I don’t--”

“You do.” Patton was in front of him again, Logan having let go of his jaw. “I know you can’t always see it, but you do. We wouldn’t be complete without you. We weren’t complete until you came along. So don’t you think for a second that we would ever give up on you. You’re worth everything, kiddo.”

Virgil couldn’t really see at this point, vision blurred completely by the neverending trail of tears, but right now he didn’t really care. The guilt was fading for the moment, that ever present voice in the back of his head finally being silenced.

“What we’re trying to say,” Logan added, not bothering to wipe away his own tears. “Is that we have no desire to ask you to leave. And at this point, I doubt we’d let you if you tried.”

Roman’s smile brightened, and Virgil felt himself blush when the prince winked at him. “Yes, we’ve grown rather fond of you, Doctor Gloom.”

Virgil sobbed again at the nickname, but he was smiling through his tears now, blindly reaching for all of them. And they were there, without even needing to be asked, one last silent reassurance that they meant what they said, that he didn’t need to go anywhere.

“Come on,” Patton said, pulling away after what might have been hours. “Let’s get you some real food. And I’ll show you the new cups- Logan let us make them pretty colors!”

For just a second the voice was back, telling him it was too good to be true, that he should duck out now and never leave his room again.

He didn’t even give it a second thought, brushing the dark thoughts aside and allowing himself to be dragged to his feet, following his family into the kitchen.

For the moment, even if it wouldn’t last, he let himself relax.

[beewolfwrites]

And When I am Formulated, Sprawling on a Pin - Chapter 15: Love and Squalor

Helloo again! Lots of Chishiya in this chapter, because frankly there can never be enough of him. 

If you’re only just reading this fic, this is a Chishiya x OC/Reader fanfic, and you can find all the chapters, including this one, here on AO3. 

Enjoy :)

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

‘Get out.’

The words stung like frost against my bare skin. This coldness was achingly familiar. I had heard it once before on the roof when I had asked about his injury and tried to touch him. Several subject changes later, the distrust had finally thawed. And now, we’d come full circle again.

It was impossible not to stare at the reddened bandage wrapped around his waist. ‘Are you okay?’

‘I didn’t say you could come in here. Get out.’

I blinked away tears, determined not to let him see. There was no way I could go back out there with Niragi was prowling the halls looking for me. I met Chishiya’s stony glare and shook my head.

I’m not going out there.

At that moment, Niragi’s gleeful voice sounded from somewhere in the hallways. ‘Come on out, Shorty, and maybe we can finish what we started. Wouldn’t that be fun?’

Chishiya’s jaw tensed slightly, but only for the briefest second before returning to its apathetic state. Placing the gauze back into the first aid kit, he muttered, ‘get under the bed and don’t make a sound.’

I frowned, silently asking him why.

‘Unless you’d rather be caught by him?’

No. Not that. Anything but that.

Having made my decision, I pulled away from the door and got to the floor. Still clutching the copy of Wuthering Heights in one hand, and almost banging my head on the bedframe, I scrabbled under, making sure to stay away from the edges where someone could see. It was very, very cramped, and claustrophobia was creeping up on me from every recess, but Chishiya must’ve had a reason for telling me to do this. I had to trust in that, even if I didn’t completely trust him.

Several bangs shook the door, and I gulped, knowing exactly who was behind it. It was as if Chishiya had somehow predicted what would happen. There was a rustle of clothes as he zipped up his hoodie before going to open it.

Before Niragi could begin saying anything, Chishiya spoke. ‘Don’t waste your time, she’s not in here.’

‘Oh?’ Niragi sneered. ‘If you know why I’m here, then she must be in here.’

‘Has it occurred to you that the entire Beach can hear you shouting and causing a fuss?’

There was a click, presumably of Niragi’s rifle. ‘Oi, don’t even think about pissing me off. I know she’s in here. She’s your little pal, and she disappeared right around your room.’

I closed my eyes, praying that I could melt away into the darkness under the bed.

There was a slow, annoyed exhale, followed by Chishiya’s voice. ‘You can come in and see for yourself if you want. But there’s no point.’

Don’t invite him in!

I froze, scared even to breathe too loudly. The door creaked as it swung open, and from the slither of light under the bed, I could see Niragi’s boots as he waltzed through the room. He flicked on the lights in the bathroom and peered into the closet, before circling back.

Niragi cocked his rifle, letting out a half-laugh. ‘I guess it doesn’t matter. I’ll see your friend again soon enough, and next time she won’t get far.’

There was a shuffle and a click of the door as the footsteps disappeared. I released the breath I’d been holding, and all my muscles relaxed, sinking into the soft carpet.

He’s gone… for now.

Chishiya’s sandalled feet appeared at the edge of the bed.

‘I’d prefer it if you didn’t stay there all day.’

It was hard to tell whether the irritation in his voice was genuine or just put on to make me uncomfortable. I forced myself to ignore it as I climbed out from under the bed. Chishiya was perched on the end, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his hoodie, but his gaze rested on the wall opposite rather than on me.

‘You can’t hide from him forever.’

I sat down on the duvet, awkwardly playing with the book in my hands. ‘I know.’

When I didn’t move, Chishiya finally turned to me. ‘You know you can leave.’

‘I know that too,’ I said. But whether it was because of Niragi, or because of something else, I found that didn’t want to leave. ‘Why don’t I help you? You know, with…’ I gestured to his side.

This time, the coldness had disappeared from his voice, but the distrust was still evident. ‘I don’t need your help.’

The way he phrased it didn’t go unnoticed. It wasn’t that he didn’t need help; he didn’t need my help. I lacked any medical experience to be of use to him, but that didn’t mean I was going to give up. Back in the Hunting Season game, when he’d tumbled over the fence, and I’d felt the weight of him on top of me, I knew he was in serious pain. Chishiya wasn’t a fan of physical contact, so the fact that it had taken him a good minute to get up was what gave him away.

And even then, he’d still trailed around a shopping mall after me.

Even then, he’d held up his end of our bargain.

I could at least try and do this.

‘Fine then,’ I insisted, ‘you can guide me. It can be like a lesson, since I’m more likely to get injured in a game than you. If I know the basics, I won’t need your help again like I did in the pharmacy that time.’

His expression filled with callous amusement. ‘In other words, you feel guilty. And now you’re trying to convince me to let you repay me in some way.’

I knew I’d been obvious in how I felt about what happened, but it still stung to hear him talk about my guilt as though it were one big joke to him. ‘Maybe… is it working?’

‘I suppose if Niragi shoots you, you could patch it up rather than coming to me.’ The words were softly spoken yet calculating. He gestured to a bowl on the bedside table. ‘You need to fill that up with water. Boil a kettle to sterilise it first.’

Does this mean… yes?

Smiling from ear to ear, I told him he wouldn’t regret this. Ditching the book on the bed, I picked up the kettle and filled it with water from the bathroom, leaving it to boil while I washed my hands meticulously using the techniques I’d seen on posters in public bathrooms.

He’s only now trusting me enough to do this, I thought. If it gets infected, he’ll kill me.

I reached for the towel on the back of the door, then stopped. They didn’t use towels in hospitals; it was far too unhygienic. ‘What can I use to dry my hands?’ I called out. ‘Your towels are too germy.’

‘My towels are always clean,’ his voice drawled back in response. ‘And there are gloves here, so it doesn’t make any difference.’ I could practically hear him calling me an idiot just through his tone alone.

When I returned, he was holding out a small box of sterile latex gloves that looked awfully like the ones in the medical room. He must’ve stolen them for himself. He had also removed the old bandages and the dressing underneath, revealing a large tear in the skin beneath his ribs. It was no longer bleeding, but it still looked painful.

‘We’re using water to clean it?’ I asked, taking the kettle and pouring the boiling water into the bowl to sterilise it as much as possible. ‘In the pharmacy you used antiseptic first.’

‘Ah. That’s because I didn’t have water or saline.’ He said, as I disappeared into the bathroom to drain out the hot water and replace it with cool tap water. ‘And also, because I was curious about something.’

He always seems to be curious about something.

‘And what was that?’ I returned, balancing the bowl of water in my lap as I sat close to him on the bed. Close enough that I could see the goosepimples on his arms, and the way his pale hair lightly brushed his skin.

He smirked. ‘I wanted to see whether you would cry.’

Even though I was mildly insulted, I knew there was more to than that. At the time he was trying to recruit me to the Beach, so it was more likely he wanted to see whether I was resilient enough to deal with a bullet graze. ‘And did I pass your little test?’

‘Well… you didn’t cry,’ he said. ‘Although you bit your hand instead, which was just as stupid.’

I was used to him making me feel insignificant by now, but that didn’t mean I was willing to put up with it. ‘You know, calling me stupid is the same as calling me an idiot. And you were the one who said I was intelligent enough to be useful when you brought me to the Beach.’

I took a cloth out of its packaging and submerged it in the bowl to dampen it. Moving slowly and applying only the lightest pressure, I began gently cleaning the wound. With every cold touch of water, his muscles tensed.

‘That’s true,’ he said. ‘And yet you don’t know how to treat a basic injury.’

I couldn’t help but smile.

I suppose even Chishiya can be wrong sometimes.

‘I know how to treat an injury,’ I told him. ‘But I don’t know how to do it properly, and it’s not like we have much modern medicine here to help us.’ I paused, thinking back to before the Borderlands. ‘It’s also because I’m not especially smart.’

His only response was a huff of air as I dabbed the cold rag against his skin, removing traces of dry blood. From his silence, I could only assume he was waiting for me to explain.

‘My brother is a psychologist. He once said to me that being smart doesn’t make you intelligent.’

‘That was smart of him,’ Chishiya commented.

I hummed in agreement. ‘He is smart. My dad never made him feel that way though. He always said my brother wasn’t cut out for psychology. He went and proved him wrong though.’

It was hard to ignore the intimacy of being so close to Chishiya right now. At times, our skin was almost touching, but it never quite made it.

Don’t think about it.

‘But my brother was right about what he said. A smart person might know how to treat a wound because they’ve studied it. They’ll study loads of subjects and gain a lot of practical skills. They ace all the exams because they remember all the answers.’ I paused, smiling. ‘But being intelligent means questioning the answers… looking at thing differently… and when you don’t know something, you’ll find a solution that’s completely outside of the box.’

As I spoke, I could feel Chishiya’s eyes on me, watching my every move. He could have just been wary, except it didn’t feel that way. Rather than his cruel, calculating stare, this seemed closer to passive interest.

‘Take the Borderlands for example,’ I said. ‘A smart person would say that it can’t be God who’s behind all of this craziness, because God doesn’t exist. We’ve seen outer space, and it’s not rational to think that there’s a God out there sitting on the clouds. But an intelligent person would know that even if we can’t prove God exists, we also can’t prove that God doesn’t exist. So, they’ll consider every possibility at once.'

Even just talking about this was comforting. It made me feel like I was carrying my brother’s words with me. I only wished I knew where he was.

Chishiya had been so silent that when he spoke, it completely took me out of my thoughts. ‘And what about me?’ He asked. ‘Would you pin me as smart or intelligent?’

I rinsed the cloth in the now pink water, taking a moment to think my answer through carefully. ‘Probably a crazy mixture of both. Sometimes, I wish I knew what’s going on in your head. Only, I can’t read you at all. It scares me.’

‘Everything scares you.’

‘Okay, okay. Let’s not go there,’ I brought the cloth closer to Chishiya’s skin once more.

‘That’s enough.’ He flinched away from it. ‘The water’s freezing.’

‘An eye for an eye,’ I said, grinning, as I dropped the cloth back into the water. ‘Consider it repayment for trying to make me cry.’

The corner of his mouth curled. ‘Touche.’

Gesturing to a tube of antibiotic ointment, he talked me through the correct amount to use. Even through gloves, touching his skin felt uncomfortably intimate, although perhaps I was just too easily embarrassed. Chishiya didn’t seem to mind, or at least, he didn’t pay it much attention.

‘You never told me why you wanted to make me cry,’ I said, trying to break the ice.

He pointed at a dressing wrapped in clear, sterile packaging. ‘I wanted to gauge whether you would survive in a world like this.’

Bingo! I was right.

‘I thought that much.’ Unwrapping the dressing, I carefully positioned it against his skin so that the sticky edge wouldn’t catch on the wound itself. ‘I’ve survived so far. Isn’t that enough?’

With two fingers, he flicked me hard on the forehead. Caught by surprise, I could only blink up at him, confused, as I rubbed the stinging skin with the back of my wrist.  

‘Of course not,’ he replied. ‘It’s only enough when you get to return to the real world. And you’re still too naïve. No wonder Niragi’s made you into such an easy target.’

Immediately, my mood soured at the mention of that name. Niragi wasn’t going to stop until he’d gotten what he wanted, and I was running out of ways to avoid him. ‘What do you think he meant before?’

‘I’ll see your friend again soon enough, and next time she won’t get far.’

The words still echoed in the room. He was planning something.

Chishiya hummed as he pulled his hoodie back on. ‘I have a theory, but it’s almost game time,’ he said. ‘Your visa expires tonight.’

How does he know mine expires?

I raised a brow, confused, but if he noticed, he didn’t ask or explain. Dismissing the thought, I focused instead on how much more at ease I felt now that he was no longer shirtless, even if Chishiya himself didn’t seem to care about being so exposed. Although I kind of wanted to stay and enjoy talking to him more, I didn’t want to push my luck. It was a marvel he had even let me stay this long. Picking up my book, I thanked him for distracting Niragi earlier, and left.

It was only when I got half-way down the hall, staring at the book, that I realised I’d forgotten to ask him about the line of text.

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

As darkness spilled through the windows of my room, I knew it was time. After Niragi’s words earlier, I had a bad feeling about tonight’s game. I couldn’t pinpoint what it was, but I just knew something was off.

To be on the safe side, I took the taser from its drawer and pocketed it before heading down to the lobby.

I squeezed my way to the table at the front and took my slip of paper, making a mental note of the group number. Searching the room, it didn’t take long before I spotted Chishiya and Kuina on the other side. They were leaning against a wall and staring at something I couldn’t see. I scanned over the crowds until I realised what, or whom, they were looking at.

The boy with messy hair and the climber girl from the Tag game.

Looks like those two teamed up, huh?

Walking towards Kuina and Chishiya, I leaned up against the wall, but said nothing as I watched the pair.

Chishiya clocked onto my presence immediately. ‘So, you’ve noticed them too.’

The climber girl and the boy hugged before parting ways. ‘Of course. I remember them from the Five of Spades.’ Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the cogs in Chishiya’s mind turning. ‘You’re planning something, aren’t you?’

‘Perhaps,’ he said. ‘It all depends on how he does tonight. Hatter’s already impressed by the cards he brought with him.’

I didn’t like the look on his face. It was clear he was already creating some kind of strategy, a way of using the boy and the climber girl within our plan. That’s just what Chishiya did; he used you to his advantage and dispatched you without a second thought. It was side of him that scared me, and it made me wonder where I stood. Was I his friend, like Kuina, or perhaps just a dish kept in the cupboard for him to take out and use whenever the occasion suits.

But he gave me those books and a taser to protect myself.

He also patched up my arm in the pharmacy, and later admitted that it was merely a ploy to recruit me to the Beach. Looking at him now, I only wished I knew how to read him.

What am I to you?

‘Kuina,’ he said, breaking the silence that had fallen between us, ‘you’re in the same group as him.’

Next to me, Kuina made a noise of understanding as she already knew what was being asked of her. ‘Leave it to me. I’ll make friends with him and see what he’s made of.’ Nudging me gently, she added. ‘Sorry we couldn’t be in a game together.’

I squeezed her hand. ‘Just make sure you come back.’

‘Got it,’ Wish me luck!’ Then with a little wave, she left us alone.

Looking over the room, I wondered who else was in my group. It would be better if my group consisted of people I’d never seen or spoken to before, just in case the unthinkable happened. When Kuina had apologised for not being in the same game, I hadn’t felt sorry at all. It was much, much better this way.

There was a shuffle of fabric as Chishiya slid closer, filling the gap where Kuina had been. When he spoke, his voice was low and quiet. ‘結局俺の理��が正しいだった.’

The words caught me by surprise; he didn’t usually speak to me in Japanese unless it was to mock me behind my back.Unfortunately, I didn’t understand anything other than the word for ‘correct’.

What was correct? His theory from earlier?

‘どういう意味か?’ I asked. What do you mean?

Even though he was speaking to me, he was focused on a particular spot on the opposite wall, his eyes amused and sly. ‘そのテーザーをあるか?’ Do you have that taser?

And without having to look, everything clicked.

Lifting my head, I saw my fate resting on the other side of the room. That feeling of dread from earlier returned, creeping over my shoulder and settling heavy in my gut. Niragi was leaning against a wall, his expression triumphant and his eyes trained on me. It could only mean one thing.

This is going to be one hell of a game.

[skellebonez]

What about prompt #3 with the Macaque/Tang pairing? That one art is getting me REALLY curious about what their potential dynamic would be like

I had an idea a long while ago about what could happen to Macaque after episode 9, and I have my Deadpool-seque immortality HC for him as well, so I’m combining those ideas and setting this between episodes 9-10 since we don’t know how long MK was training with Wukong after their fight. This is also very different from how I would write them if they met outside of this very specific circumstance.

Warning: vague descriptions of his injuries, descriptions of his healing abilities, mentions of emotional manipulation in canon (none to Tang himself so you don't have to worry about that here).

I’ve been waiting to get to know you from the moment I first saw you.

There were worse positions that Six-Eared Macaque could have landed himself in, especially after his fight with Sun Wukong’s successor, so all things considered... the immortal monkey was incredibly lucky at the moment.

He was in a very soft bed, firm enough to not give too much when he moved but laid on top of extra plush bedding now that he wasn’t bleeding as much as he had been it was much more comfortable. Half of his body was still coated in bandages, though they were more makeshift casts wrapped around items to keep his limbs still than anything else at this point.

Only his right arm and head had managed to make it out mostly unscathed, both fully healed by now. This meant he wasn’t completely unable to entertain himself, a thing called an “e-reader” held in his hand. And as the door to the house he was in opened he thought about his luck.

There was no way this man didn’t know who he was when he found Macaque. Even if the Kid managed to be taken in, apparently his tale hadn’t been completely lost. This house, what little he saw of it when dragged inside and through the halls, was filled with books and art of the Journey. Not everywhere, but just enough to be noticeable. And the recognition on the man’s face when he found him, laying in the rain soaked ground and covered in blood and mud and looking like death itself was instantaneous.

And yet, despite that... and despite the pictures of the Monkey Kid himself he saw on the walls...

“Macaque, you’re awake,” the man spoke, voice still soft and tentative but with a layer of genuine relief and excitement under it. His name was Tang. “I hope you’re feeling as well as you could be.”

Macaque took note of the fact that he didn’t say “better” or just “well” as he lowered the e-reader, bring pulled from the genre known as science-fiction. “As well as he could be”. He seemed mindful of both his condition and his abilities at all times.

“I suppose you could say that,” He said evenly, watching as Tang prepared some kind of medicine for him. He never bothered asking what it was, just some kind of pills and ointment that numbed him enough to make the pain manageable. “I take it nothing happened today.”

It felt odd. Talking like this. He hadn’t just talked to someone in centuries, not really. But what was there to lie about here? Tang knew that he had manipulated the Kid, he said as much to him when he woke. Tang knew of his history, knew who he was and was apparently angry that he hadn’t elaborated on the fact he could have been the same Macaque from the story and not another one (given the story greatly exaggerated his death... or, well, exaggerated that he had stayed dead).

Tang knew he was evil. Knew that he hurt someone he cared about. Knew that he would have been fine eventually if he left him outside, if in a great deal more pain. So why take him in? Why wash his wounds? Why dress them? Why feed him and give him things to entertain him through his bedridden days? Why talk to him, why ask him about the accuracy of the stories?

He was at first annoyed by all his questions but after a day he had given in and just talked and... and he never realized how much he missed just talking to someone. But he still didn’t know why.

He never built up anything to ask. Tang never explained. It lingered between them like a soft breeze, always there and threatening to grow strong. But not causing any disturbance, not yet.

“No, but there are rumors about something going on with the Demon Bull King...” Tang trailed off, genuine worry peppering his tone. It wasn’t as if Macaque was particularly interested or as if he could actually do anything with the state of his healing as it was... but something about that tone made something sink in his chest and he didn’t like that.

Tang was... different, from most humans he had met. Not entirely unique, he wasn’t that different from others, but still. It had been a long time since he met someone who would talk back to him and tell him to “shut up and let me help you”. Reprimand him, him, for trying to leave the bed before his bones reset. Who took his sass with an unbelieving raised eyebrow and a “yes, I totally buy that” and even had the gall to toss food like pieces of candy into his open mouth when Macaque went on an angry rant just because he could. He knew all about him already and he didn’t take any of his bullshit.

He hated to admit it... but he didn’t hate this human. Tang. He didn’t hate Tang.

Neither said anything as Tang handed him the pills, pain killers he called them, and water once Macaque put them in his mouth. Neither said anything as Tang tested the spots on his arms and legs where there were breaks, his ribs long since beating them both to healing, testing to see exactly where anything needed to be reset or rewrapped due to Macaque’s movements in his sleep.

It had been a long week and a half... Macaque almost didn’t want them to heal.

Healing meant he would have to...

“At the rate you’re going,” Tang started with a mirthful laugh, looking equal parts happy and sad. “You’ll be out of here by the end of the week.

Macaque said nothing, setting aside his water and scowling for a moment. He mulled the thought he just had in over in his mind before deciding that... if Tang had let him stay this long... he may as well say it. It wasn’t like it would change anything except whether or not he was happy when he left.

“What if I don’t want to?”

Tang’s head shot up from where he was inspecting his arm, face one of shock and confusion and... if Macaque looked deep enough into his eyes, he could swear he saw something akin to hope that he was being serious.

So he took a chance.

He lifted his good arm and placed his hand on the back of Tang’s head, pulling him closer slowly as he waited for him to fight back or say something. But Tang didn’t. He let the demon pull him closer and closer until his nose touched Macaque’s and Macaque stopped... and Tang moved forward and pressed their lips together.

Macaque knew then and there that he had made a mistake and both of them would hurt when he left the second a fire lit in his chest and his eyes closed and the kiss deepened.

The next day he finally asked Tang why he had given him a chance.

"I’ve been waiting to get to know you from the moment I first saw you."

(Tang was right. Macaque was ready to leave by the end of the week. So he did, in the midst of the chaos of the Demon Bull King taking everything over. Tang hadn’t come back one day and he watched the news from the house well outside the city. He stayed around outside, just long enough to watch Tang come home, watch him find an empty made bed, watched him grab the e-reader he had given Macaque and slam it into the wall and yell about how stupid he had had been to fall for the demon monkey. How he should have known he would leave.

Macaque left before he allowed himself to actually feel regret and comfort the man who had taken him in and helped him and made him feel something more than hatred and the rush of victory for the first time in centuries.

They both mourned a relationship they never had.

And maybe one day Tang came home to sweets and other gifts after the Lunar New Year Festival.

And maybe one day a dark furred monkey mistaken for Sun Wukong helped a certain Monkie Kid from the shadows because he remembered the sad look his father figure held when he watched him talk about him being hurt.

Maybe one day Macaque returned, angry and confused due to plans unable to be finished as he time after time remembered the human who helped him heal in more ways than physically over 2 weeks and that healing, while not enough to change him then, had lead to him second guessing his decisions for the months to come.

Maybe Macaque would ask for a second chance, gruff and hating every moment that he had to be nice to anyone else who wasn't Tang. But begrudgingly trying. For Tang and no one else.

Maybe.

Or maybe not.

Who am I to tell.)

[hatsukeii]

One where y/n has been obviously in love with Tsuki since they were kids and not afraid to show it, but he’s always been lowkey mean to her and thinks she’s annoying and then finally years later she decides he’s not a nice guy and let’s him know she’s fine with all that crap and then he realizes he’s falling for her and does something really sweet for her and they fall in love? 😭😭🥺👉🏻👈🏻 ty in advance. Sorry if this is too long or specific, if it is, feel free to ignore

I genuinely hope you didn’t think I would actually ignore this<33

IM SORRY IM A MASTER PROCRASTINATOR ILY ALL AND YOU ALL DESERVE AN APOLOGY FROM ME

Dear diary//Tsukishima Kei x Reader

Word Count: 1.4k+

Warnings: Cursing

Genre: Angst??? I guess???

Summary: He’s an ass, but you still love him to bits, and it’s killing you.

July 16, 2008

Dear Diary,

I got to play with Tsukki again! He had his dino with him, it was super cute! He told me his front teeth came off last night, and there’s a big hole in his teeth, but it’s okay, because he said it will grow back. I tried to hold his hand while going down the twin slides but he said it was sweaty, so next time I’ll wear gloves!

You flip through the hot pink diary, cringing at your young infatuation. Your diary entries were cringey as fuck, but they always rekindle something within you whenever you read them. You can’t even remember when you stopped writing in the book. Was it when you turned 10? Maybe 12? You don’t have a single clue.

April 30, 2011

Dear Diary,

Tsukki refused to marry me in the playground at break:(( I’ve known him for so long though, aren’t we supposed to get married? I just wanna hold his hand and hug him and give him a biiiiig kiss<33

Chuckling at the memory, you recalled the event from that entry clearly. You were seven years old only, still an immature kid. You still thought that getting married in a middle school playground was a huge milestone in life, almost as crucial as a legal marriage.

May 29, 2016

Dear Diary,

Love how Tsukki didn’t even remember my birthday:,) Must be nice getting made fun of. Half the students in my class felt my second hand embarrassment from when he completely forgot about it. God, why am I even in love with this asshole? I’m gonna have to go to school tomorrow and deal with all my classmates making fun of me for being hopeless. Brb, currently digging a hole for myself:)

Frowning at the memory, you think back to when you were twelve. He was an asshole then, still is an asshole to this day. And yet not an ounce of your unconditional love and support for him has faded. Grabbing a tissue, you wipe the remaining tears from your eyes, ignoring the dried tear stains on your cheek. Your hand slams onto the bedside table, lazily feeling for your phone. Tilting it towards your face, you sigh at the empty lock screen, accepting defeat. Flicking through the rest of the book, you are welcomed by pages and pages of white. “So that’s when I gave up on this diary...” you mutter to yourself as you lift yourself up from your bed. Heading towards your desk, you absentmindedly grab yourself a pen, notebook in hand. Slamming the diary down, you open it up to the next entry page after your last one, gently placing the tip of your pen on the first line. You grab your hair out of frustration, the ink bleeding into the thin paper. “What to do, what to do...?” You mumble, starting to form sentences in your notebook.

July 17, 2020

Dear Diary,

It’s been a while hasn’t it? Holy shit, all my entries were about Tsukki weren’t they? Jesus, of course they were. At least I was able to get it off my chest this afternoon. Telling him that I’ve been in love with him for years, that was fucking terrifying. Telling him that although I know he’s an ass, an animatronic dick complete with ballsack, that won’t stop me from falling harder, it was gut wrenching, but also relieving to a certain degree. I’m still waiting for some form of response, although I’m not sure I’m gonna get one anytime soon. I can’t decide whether telling him was the dumbest or bravest decision I’ve made. Maybe it was both. Just wait until I look back on this entry like a decade later and still cry about it lmao. Tbh he’s a genuinely nice person at heart. I know that all too well. He may be an ass most the time, and he may think I’m annoying, but despite how hard he tries to push me away, I’ll never abandon him. Jesus Christ, I sound like a yandere here, but it’s not that. It’s that I care for him a lot. Maybe even a bit too much. It’s ridiculous how absolute and utter shit a crush can make you feel.

Throwing the pen down, you flop back onto your bed, huffing into the thick blankets. You stay silent, not sure of what to think of the situation. “I’ll just deal with it all tomorrow, I’m tired of this shit.”

On the other side of the incident, Tsukishima is currently going through a mental crisis.

The blond sits at his desk, eyes unwavering, but focusing on nothing. It feels as if he hasn’t blinked in what seemed to be hours. Just hours of staring at his wall that led to nothing. Your confession plays in his head nonstop, like a broken record that refused to run out of battery.

“The thing is I like you. I’m pretty sure I always have. And I know that you’re such an asshole and all that, you won’t treat me as well as people would expect, but it’s fine. I’m fine with all that. All the dumb, stupid, careless insults you’ll throw at me, the side eyes and sneers, telling me to shut up and go away, I’m fine with it. I know you’re a good person, and that’s all that matters to me.”

“Well shit what the fuck do you want me to say?”

Maybe he shouldn’t have said that.

Maybe he should have let you down slowly.

But as he stares at his wall, the photos of the two of you framed and balanced on his floating shelves, he starts to reconsider his feelings.

The way your expression faltered then as you hastily took your bag and rushed away without a single word, the way you avoided him in the halls, the way you stopped talking to him throughout the day, it drove him crazy. He couldn’t handle the realisation that he hurt you so incredibly badly, so now all he can do is stare at his empty, blank wall. Did he know why he felt that way? No. He didn’t and still doesn’t. He’s Tsukishima fucking Kei, the emotionless, provoking, unlikeable king, yet a mere girl is somehow able to mess with his mind so badly, that all he can do is wallow in regret and confusion? What is this weird feeling? His throat itches, his heart is beating like crazy, sweat starting to gather around his temples. He clamps his two hands together, slamming his forehead onto them and squeezing his eyes shut.

How could I have been so dense?

How was he unable to see that you were absolutely in love with him? Even with the bento boxes, birthday gifts, constant compliments, he still only ever thought you liked him as a friend. However he never did. He likes you more than that. Way more. Yes, he thought, and still thinks you can be annoying at times, especially when you nag at him about not eating enough or being rude, but it was undeniable that there was something else he felt. But his stupid ass shitty ego would never let him admit it. And now that you finally confessed, he freaked out and fucked up. Even then, he didn’t think it would affect him to this extent.

“It was a stupid middle school crush, I’m over you (Y/N).”

He says that over and over again, desperate to cloud out the disagreeing thoughts in his head that scream otherwise.

“It was a stupid middle school crush, I’m over you.”

“It was a stupid middle school crush, I’m over you.”

“It was a stupid middle school crush, I’m over you.”

The guilt didn’t go away.

In fact, now that he’s said all that, he feels even worse. Oh how much he wants to find you right this second, wrap you in his arms, tell you how incredibly sorry he is, but he can’t. He doesn’t deserve to do that. His heart is begging for him to just get out of the house and run to yours as fast as he could, but his body won’t move. He wants to cry. Scream. Shout. Throw something. Shatter something. But most of all, he wants to get another chance.

Picking up his phone, he hesitates, before typing in your contact, the cleared out, empty chatroom showing up on his screen. Going as fast as his fingers could, he typed out the one sentence he’s been dying to let out.

“It was a middle school crush, but I’m still into you. I always have been.”

Is it just me, or is this bad-

Idk man it seems like all my fics are pretty much the same and I hate it😌

Tags:

@sunshines-and-tatertots @izzyphantomgamer @justachillgirl @trashcanweeb @just-another-bored-writer @poppirocks @majorfangirl37 @kaylacinderella @random-fandomlover @tiger1719 @tiredgr3mlin @itmekisuu @skyeackermans @talks-a-lot-of-stuff @shoutsukii @agentvicinity @sakusasgarbage @kuroo-thought-of-a-better-un @sneezefiction @bokutokoutarou @thirstyvolleyballhoe @iwaixiumi @iwaigroomi @inlwlevi

Feel free to comment or pm to be added to taglist!

I’m back to writing lmao I’m bored in two week quarantine rn

Edit: cue me realising I was half asleep and missed something in the request don’t be surprised if I repost this💀💀💀💀

Btw the hq manga just ended time to cry

💕💕💕💕

[bunny9girl]

Headcanon: Omegaverse

Warning: little language and sexual moments

Problem: I don't push others away and label genders, I hate it. This is for any and all to read not just fem readers.

Rin x Reader 🔖

🔖Rin as a omega just think about it, soooo kawaii 😍

🔖But seriously he'll try and keep his second gender a secret, he doesn't want to be looked down on by anyone.

🔖You can't tell me otherwise!

🔖But when he met you his omega senses clicked right in. Your strong, brave, a little mean but also bit of a temper bitch.

🔖But perfect

🔖Taking suppressments, acting all high and mighty not letting anyone press him down

🔖Being a fake alpha

🔖Your alpha like status made your profile shine, not just that your one hell of a knight and tamer. Best in the class

🔖He wanted you to take him as your mate then and there. But he had to ignore his instincts and use his head.

🔖What made things difficult was his doubts and uncertaint thoughts. That wasn't all that held him back you both had things to do, important things to focus on and dreams to achieve.

🔖Fuck no! That's not what holds him back!

🔖Your freaking last name is holding him back!!!

🔖Pheles, bloody hell you had to be the clown's kid.

🔖He wanted nothing to do with Mephisto anymore the clown was enough, but you were nothing like that guy completely different that what he fell for

🔖Your personality, the way you are, he didn't just desire your body for sexual use or his heat. He wanted you as a person to love and care for, making you happy is all he wants.

🔖But it'll never happen. His a demon and his afraid to tell you that.

🔖Later on something kept running on his mind, if your Mephisto's kid and his a demon are you one two

🔖Have he not seen it or something?

🔖So he went straight to the source and ask Mephisto himself it was irritating talking to the clown but what piss him off more was that Mephisto answered him with a question

🔖"Why is it that you wanna know?. Mr okumura."

🔖"Come on man just tell me, stop beating around the bushes and tell me!"

🔖"So rude. Yes (Y/n) is indeed blood related to me, so what do you think?"

🔖He was lost for words he was happy and worried at the same time.

🔖Could you be together if you know about him

🔖Your already great friends have a lot of fun together enjoying time doing stupid shit when you two are chilling together both your IQ's drops to one, but being near one and other just felt right to him.

🔖Finally working up the courage to ask you out.

🔖This guy went all out! brought roses dressed in the nicest hoodie he owns did his hair even wrote a speech that took a week to finish

🔖It all flopped, he got nervous suttering not making sense at all, the words that left his mouth came out as wrong as if his chatterbox broke. His palms all sweaty smudging the ink on them making it hard to tell what he wrote.

🔖You just stood there with a smirk trying not to burst into laughter, the second he came to you with roses dress like a slop you already know that he wants to ask you out.

🔖You just sat back enjoying the show.

🔖It was cute, but started getting annoying.

🔖You had to sush him placing your hands on his cheeks, "it's okay chill, Rin. Yes I will go out with you." Those few words made him the happiest omega alive, he couldn't ask for more. Maybe ask your dad to fuck off cause Mephisto was peaking his out from a corner behind you.

🔖But his happy.

🔖When you two started dating it was a little confusing all the couple stuff not knowing what to do or what's right or wrong, what your partner wants or likes.

🔖You where all cool and relax about it figuring things out along the way... on the other hand Rin was dumb as fuck, he didn't know shit he even took exstra time Googling what couples does?

🔖When he finally found the perfect blog that shoot his taste, he started experimenting. With hugs

🔖He loves hugging you from behind pressing his chest against your back and hocking his arms around your waist, rubbing his cheek against yours.

🔖But you prefer, embarrassing him making him blush. You hug him normally wrapping your arms around his waist pressing your bodies against each other his face in your neck and your in his, but your hands though goes straight down to his buttcheeks giving them a squeeze

🔖He blushes fifty shades of red!!! No end becoming all defensive and making no sense, but secretly he likes it.

🔖With hugs comes cuddling, but your form of cuddling is a bit different whenever he is busy or chilling you just lazily get on him.

🔖In cram school you sometime lean on his side wrapping your arms around him protective, when his studies you sit on his lap facing him as your bodies press together he rests his chin on you shoulder looking at his work, when he lays on the bed you just flop on him no matter what position just fall on him

🔖Holding hands, no big deal you two use to do it a lot before dating, just taking each other's hand in the mall or in public making sure not to lose each other in big open places

🔖It came naturally to you two not one of you are embarrassed or nervous. It was okay

🔖Next's was kissing, he expected a normal peck on the lips, but from you he got the best make out session of his life, but what he hates the most is when your angry that you found a new way to cool yourself down.

🔖Yes you kiss him just a normal average kiss, but to get to the kiss you suddenly without any warning whatsoever grab a hand full of his hair forcefully pull his face near yours.

🔖At least his happy you don't curse or kick random things around you or break whatever is in your hand if your holding something that is, as much as you used to before.

🔖When eating together you and Rin started sharing food without knowing, at times making each other taste your food or genuinely splitting a milkshake.

🔖Rin is actually very simple, pretty much gullible and naive at times, so taking him on a date is pretty easy you once took him too the aquarium and he had a blast like a 5 year old kid, so next time just take him to the zoo, he'd run around pointing silly things out and do all the things mention for kids.

🔖You guys take naps together all the time, just shows how much you enjoy each other company but it's best to find a different napping place other than during class.

🔖Rin is good at cooking we all know that, he loves to bake but you not so much. Your father is freaking Mephisto Pheles ofcourse your going to love junk food just as much as the clown does. You rather have instant ramen than eat a full course meal Rin took hours to make just cause you hate homemade meals.

🔖One thing that Rin will never stop is wearing your oversized hoodies it has you scent all over it making it feel like home to him, not just that he likes getting you two matching outfits or secretly pick out your outfit for the day. He even brought matching bracelets which you love thinking it's cute your omega wants to show his love

🔖You love reading and it makes you relax jumping into a new world, while Rin lays on your chest between your thighs sometime taking short naps or not, while you run your fingers through his hair letting him enjoy the little massage

🔖But.. You suddenly get pissed and either through the book or literally take a lighter wanting to burn the book which he has to stop you.

🔖 When the others found out about your relationship they where actually suprised it took them this long, especially Yukio.

🔖in all honesty Yukio tried giving Rin the talk, which ended awkward.

🔖Mephisto knew from the beginning, he really didn't care as long as your okay that's that.

🔖Suguro was beyond furious, jealous by how Rin got a lover before him which turned into a big mess of teasing and yelling between the two

🔖The others congrat you guys happy for the newly formed couple.

🔖You love Rin but sometimes you can't tolerate the people he hangs out with, you hate Shiemi and Yukio.

🔖Shiemi once tried to take your omega. Which result in you giving her a rude attitude and telling her to shove off. But Rin was quick to defend her... it turned into a full blown argument.

🔖And Yukio, tried separateding you two by secretly getting you mad at each other, you where able to catch on fast and exspose Yukio, Rin turned to your side on this getting angry at his brother.

🔖Sometimes he gets jealous that you hang out with Suguro and Shima the most. He get all whiny about it which you reinsurer him your only his alpha.

🔖When you get jealous you immediately turn violent, you once tried to kill Shiemi for wrapping her arms around Rin's arm, or when Shura hugged him to her chest, even when Izumo wore Rin's jacket.

🔖Ready to tear off their heads. But you have to contain yourself.

🔖At some point you did stumble upon Rin's nest, it wasn't in his room but in one of the many rooms in the dormitory he and Yukio lives in alone, it was like any other nest filled with blankets pillows you could find one or two suff animals in there and clothes... your missing clothes.

🔖But you just left it not wanting to do anything to it, it is his save place after all you have to wait till he willingly allows you in on his own terms it is privacy after all.

🔖Scenting is something you guys do regularly, Rin just wants your scent to feel comfortable he got so use to it, makes him feel uneasy if he doesn't get to rub on you. You enjoy it equally if he doesn't scent a stuff animal or two that is yours you might get angry and punch a hole through the wall

🔖Rin loves you dearly but he didn't bonded with you in the way he thought he would.

🔖Somehow you came down in a rut affecting him aswell, falling into an early heat.

🔖Your will power was long gone force yourself on him giving him the most lovable night he'd never forget you where so gentle and caring taking care of him before yourself. It took everything in you not to fuck his brains out.

🔖But with that it came with you slipping for a second, biting on nape so hard making him bleed, made him scream in pain mixed pleasure.

🔖it took you awhile to have Rin bite you in return cause he didn't what to hurt you and was nervous about it.

🔖But afterwards you showed off the mark wearing it with pride, pinning your hair up (if you don't have long hair just ignore it.) And wearing shirts that exspose more of you neck and shoulders.

🔖After bonding you two stayed near each other having issues with separating for more than half an hour, this result in you leaving your dad's home moving into the dormitory Rin lives in both of you claimed a different room.

🔖Rin rebuilt his nest in both of yours room giving you full access.

🔖Others seem to keep asking you what it like in a alpha x alpha relationship, which confused you.

🔖But you simply answer with either ignoring them or "Just like any other relationship?"

🔖After becoming intimate, you love walking around him shirtless and pantsless. You can either get a blush or a horny moan out of him.

🔖Something more intimate is taking a bath with each other you can't keep your hands to yourself at times like these.

🔖giving each other pet names are normal and cute.

🔖Rin mostly prefers calling you- Babe, sweetheart or handsome/beautiful.

🔖You on the other hand call him- Baby cakes, love, Darling or idiot

🔖But in bed he once accidentally let a Daddy/mommy kink slip his mouth, it turned you on more than ever.

🔖But in bed you call his name mixed with a lot of dirty talk. Which gets him all rile up.

🔖Studying together is not a good option anymore you both can't concentrate, can't keep your hands off your lover, randomly start goofing off or get horny.

🔖You regularly get more piss off at Yukio more than Rin does, When mission come around your either stuck on a lame team or with Rin not allowed in the action.

🔖During the camping trip or exercise, instead of bringing back a lantern you kinda got lost in the forest.

🔖And only reunited with the others when Rin went viral, blue flames every where the trees burning and mist of the students were injured.

🔖Yes Amiomon did think about using you before Shiemi but it wasn't a good idea since Mephisto refused for obvious reasons.

🔖Number one the would have not been able to control you much less get underneath your skin though to your superior abilities.

🔖Number two you would've beating the shit out of Aniomon even if he wasn't your uncle.

🔖And lastly number 3 Your a demon with a class near Mephisto, he could've exspose it if you fought Amiomon but keeping you a secret from the order is more important than Rin.

🔖After all that crazy shit, Rin couldn't look you in the eye now you know he's a demon there could've been hope if he was just any other demon but his the span of satan himself.

🔖He doubt you would want to have him as your omega anymore.

🔖It sadden him and made him depress losing the cheerful happy attitude. Not just his behavior that changed as well as his scent it started becoming displeasing and disgusting.

🔖You treated him the same as you always do, you already knew everything since Mephisto opened his big mouth and blab to you long before you and Rin got together

🔖your also the first to feel the change in your omega, but thought it was cause of the way the others treat him.

🔖But it wasn't the same when he avoided you and didn't let you in him nest.

🔖At some point you had enough, doing something that an alpha shouldn't, you drag Rin straight out his nest to confront him

🔖It started in a argument leading of to crying and yelling, it ended with you mostly trashed the room, and the words never spoken once from you

🔖"I love you!" It made Rin extremely happy knowing you love him dearly.

🔖"I love you too"

🔖You two were finally on the same page again, continuing your relationship. Loving and cuddling.

🔖When the others treated Rin bad you where the one to comfort him and give him a not of ice cream.

🔖That's till Izumo birthday came aroun, You don't celebrate birthdays since your a demon and all much older than you look.

🔖You even helped Rin decorate the cake that was clearly Christmas themed, which confused you but you just brushed it off.

🔖Until Suguro yelled at you two claiming it was clearly not a birthday cake.

🔖They could understand Rin's explanation being that his birthday is really close to Christmas it is natural to celebrate the two on the same day not using up much money.

🔖You on the other hand were a different case, they where honestly worried, who would tell someone

🔖"I don't celebrate my birthday, I really don't care and truthfully I don't know the date to my birth?"

🔖What?

🔖Yes, you read it Mephisto never told you, and you really don't care about minor stuff like that.

🔖You suggest to them to just give the cake to Mephisto, your old man isn't much of a Christmas fan after all

🔖It was fun. And so where the rest of your days with Rin.

🔖Really happy.

***

Thanks sis for the request... I'm blocking you🤗❤

[clean-bands-dirty-stories]

Shut Him Up ~ R.C.

A/n: Listen give me ANY excuse to write Randall and I will

Request: “...Hamish duke or Randall x human male reader we’re one of the Wolfe’s get hurt and the reader is like the care taker of the group and he’s rambling because the guy he likes got hurt and ( which ever wolf you choose because I love them both) to shut him up kisses him because he’s also crushing on the reader and the rest of them are like “ so that’s how you shut him up”...”

Word Count: 1700+

MASTERLIST

"You idiot!" Hamish groaned, his shoulders sagging. "Now Y/n is going to be all over our asses when we get back. You realize that right?"

"Not if you don't tell him," Randall shot back immediately. He hissed at the pain in his shoulder. "It's fine. I'll be completely healed in a few seconds then we can get it cleaned and if no one says anything when we get back, Y/n won't- AH!" He screamed, his hand shooting out to hold his shoulder and his eyes widening. When he pulled his hand away again, it was covered in just as much blood as before.

The group was silent for a long time. But the bleeding didn't stop and when Randall swayed, Jack jumped in to put Randall's good arm around Jack's shoulders. "Let's get him to Y/n. He's not healing, and Y/n has been studying since all that stuff with Hamish went down." Lilith groaned, but it was light. Even Y/n's wrath was less important than making sure Randall didn't die.

The entire trek back to the Den was spent with everyone trying to come up with what to say to Y/n that would get him to freak out the least. But then, halfway there, Randall's knees gave in and Jack had to pick him up completely. Even between the three of them it was becoming more and more obvious that there was absolutely nothing anyone could come up with that would satiate Y/n's worry at seeing Randall pale, bleeding, nearly unconscious and not healing. And that was absolutely fact for two simple reasons.

One: Y/n was like the group mom. He made sure they were all eating and getting sleep and that they put aside time needed to study and shower and wash clothes and do their normal responsibilities like work and Randall's RA stuff in between all the hunting and killing and dealing with a bunch of magicians who seemed hell bent on destroying the world at the drop of a hat or the smallest inconvenience. He had spent so much time taking care of the pack that it was practically ingrained into his DNA to care about all of them. So even hearing about them getting hurt usually set off a rant from Y/n about taking care of themselves and how they needed to be more careful - ESPECIALLY since the whole knife incident with Hamish.

Two: Y/n was in love with Randall. He had only gotten involved in this whole drama, despite being human, because he had flirted with Randall time and time again, but Randall wasn't down for anything serious because Y/n was human and had enough to worry about without supernatural shit bothering him. Y/n was hyper aware of Randall though and as things got really weird and shady, Y/n went poking around. Now they were all here, and better off for it.

Lilith opened the door and called out for Y/n, who came scrambling into the room at the panic in Lilith's voice. He froze when he saw Randall, his eyes widening and his face draining of color. "What the fuck happened?" He demanded rather harshly, looking at the other wolves as if accusing them. He always got like this when it came to Randall. He was always worried about them, but there was a new level reached when Randall got hurt that made him all the more intolerable.

They all loved him of course but things were going to go wrong - why didn't he get that?

"I don't know," Hamish offered, feeling a little guilty. Of all the group, he probably understood Y/n the most. Jack and Alyssa were often at odds and it messed with their relationship. Y/n and Randall... Well, despite all the idiocy on Randall's part, they reminded Hamish a lot of how he and Cassidy used to be. "I'm sorry he just got- there was this witch, and she had a whip-"

"On the couch," Y/n ordered. Hamish obeyed, laying Randall on the couch. Immediately his blood started soaking into the sofa. Jack sucked in a breath. "Tell me what happened Hamish. I need to know so I can figure out how to treat it."

Hamish ran a hand through his hair. "Uh- well, the whip. It only barely scratched the rest of us, but it was about to take Alyssa out. And she's kind of cool sometimes so we were trying to make sure we didn't die and we heal a lot faster than she does so I guess he thought it would be fine. But... it got him really really bad and then it didn't heal. Halfway here his legs gave out. I don't know if he's going into shock or it's the blood loss or... poisoning? I don't know?"

Y/n had taken the time that Hamish talked, looking at the flesh around the cut. He went into full doctor mode, not allowing his emotions to cloud his judgement. "I'll be right back." He ran out of the room and the other three wolves were left to watch Randall begin to bleed out. It was becoming clear that whatever it was, it was moving fast, and Randall... he was about to die.

A hush of horror fell across the room as they all genuinely thought their friend was about to die right in front of them while they were helpless to do anything. Then like some kind of angel sent straight from heaven, Y/n swooped in with a bowl full of blue-purple liquid. He stood over Randall and poured it into the cut, making sure the whole cut was filled and covered in the liquid in the bowl. They all stood with baited breath, worried that Y/n had gotten it wrong or, worse, they were just too late.

Then Randall began healing.

"You're amazing Y/n," Jack sighed, shaking his head as he grinned.

Y/n wasn't amused though. The relief that had wiped all minds of the talking to Y/n had planned faded away as a stern man whose eyes were full of anger turned to the three wolves. "You fucking idiots. Just so you know, wolf's bane. The bitch with the whip coated it in wolf's bane. You're lucky that I noticed the way it look on his skin or he'd have died from magical poisoning. Which means she KNEW she was dealing with wolves." He held out the bowl he was holding, which still was half full of the liquid. "Make sure to get each and every cut you guys have. They might be small, but they'll suck away your strength slowly and never heal until you treat them. If you miss any-"

"What's all that talking about?" Randall groaned. The group looked over to see him sitting up, looking around. "What?"

"You idiot!" Y/n whacked Randall's shoulder, causing the newly awakened wolf to complain out loud about how it hurt. He didn't give the boy the time of day though. "I was just saying that your cut you dismissed? It was done by wolf's bane. I'll make more antidote if needed, so don't feel shy to use it up. If the cuts don't go away completely, put some more on. Symptoms include exhaustion, feeling like your body is really heavy, zoning out, and can get worse and lead to struggling to move or talk." He whipped around to glare at Randall. "Now, you." He reached over, dipping his fingers into the liquid. "Where did you get cut?" Randall took off his shirt, showing his scraped up back and arms. He was far, far more marked up than the others, which is probably why he had such a severe reaction. Y/n began to apply the liquid to all his wounds, but the action didn't stop him from going off. "You know who would have been absolutely unaffected by this shit? Alyssa," he began. He'd already been going on so long that the others in the room were tired. "She would have gotten a little cut and it would have been fine-"

"Y/n please," Randall sighed. "You tell me the same thing every time. I get it, you don't want us to get hurt-"

Y/n shot to his feet. "You came back DYING, Randall!"

"And you fixed me!" Randall shouted back, standing as well. "I'm fine! That's the thing about teamwork. None of us alone are good - we have to stick together!"

"And what if you're attacked when I'm in class across campus, or across the country back at my parents' house? What happens then Randall?" Y/n demanded, getting in Randall's face.

Randall scoffed. "Well you wouldn't do that unless it was for summer vacation, and we already all agreed to stay nearby since everything is hitting the fan."

It was Y/n's turn to scoff. "You know I gave up a lot of shit so I could be here to keep your ass alive?"

"I didn't ask you to do that!" Randall shot at Y/n.

"You didn't have to!" Y/n threw back. They both went quiet, breathing hard as they looked at each other. "Goddamnit Randall, you didn't have to." He closed his eyes, raising his hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. "But you know what? Jack's been learning lots from me, and even more from the Order. He's read the books. If I'm really so annoying then please, let me just see myself out I wouldn't want to-"

Randall suddenly snapped, rushing forward. He grabbed Y/n's face, crashing their lips together. The room was dead silent, even after the two parted. "I'm sorry," Randall whispered. "I just... I'm going to get hurt Y/n. You can't get mad at me every time."

Y/n was quiet. "I-" For the first time since they'd ever seen Y/n, his voice was soft. "I wasn't angry." He didn't ramble or rant like usual. He didn't go off in deep explanation that set off a long conversation. There was no heart to heart and crying and confessing. For the first time, Y/n stood there with all his walls down, eyes glued to Randall, and he let the silence speak for all the things he had never said.

Before Randall could say anything, the other three wolves still in the room made themselves remembered as Lilith teasingly noticed, "So that’s how you shut him up.”

Y/n threw a pillow at her, but she wasn't going to be silenced easily. For a change, Y/n was though, and that was all they got from him. For now... At least Randall had a secret weapon for the next time Y/n went off on him.

-

Male reader tags: @sheepfather​

[emachinescat]

II've decided to watch MacGyver from the beginning (again), and I'm live tweeting the experience with every tweet tagged with #savemacgyver. I thought it would be fun to share my collected thoughts from the episodes on here as well.

My Thoughts on S1E3, "Awl"

You're not only going to make it to 30, Mac, but you're going to make it to season 6. #savemacgyver

I love that Jack's bucket list includes finishing the Harry Potter books. Guess he's not a one-trick pony after all with sci-fi. A healthy blend of science fiction and fantasy is just what the doctor ordered.

Dylan Thomas reference! That poem was written about the poet's own father, and is about how everyone, no matter who they are or what they stand for, fights against death in the end. He's begging his dad to "rage, rage against the dying of the light," to not give in to death so easily, to keep fighting. Just taught this poem, actually, so I'm vibing with this reference super hard. Though to be fair, I'd be vibing with it anyway. Love Dylan Thomas.

Oh my gosh, this is the one with the fire extinguisher and inflatable escape! I'd forgotten which episode that came from, but I see GIFs of it all over Tumblr. Poor Mac especially, that looks like it hurts. Why is Lucas Till so good at being whumped?!

Jack hugging the fire extinguisher: Iconic.

I'll never get tired of seeing that polar bear! Do we know if he has a name?

I cannot get over how small and excited Bozer is, not a care in the world except for his movie. It's exciting to think about what's to come for his character growth, though I do wish he wouldn't have to go through all the things he does. :(

Jack's conversations with his dad at the grave are just everything. And I feel cheated that we haven't gotten to see Mac have the same kind of conversations at Jack's grave (though I firmly believe it's a regular occurrence off-screen).

Seriously, the way he talks to his dad is so familiar, so comfortable, so natural. It's like Daddy Dalton is right there with him and it fills me with so many emotions that I can't even.

The smile on Jack's face and the pride in his voice when he talks about Mac to his dad is the purest thing ever.

Also, that's a big-ass tombstone Jack is leaning against.

"Hi, Mr. Dalton. How's... life?" MAC! 😂

I can't tell you how much I love it when other characters talk about how smart Mac is. "He's a genius..."

First mention of Mac's dad. It's sweet how invested Jack is in Mac rebuilding his relationship with his old man. Also, I really wish we would have gotten a flashback of Jack's dad at some point. He seems like such an amazing man.

"If I could have one more day to sit and talk to my dad instead of that hunk of rock, I'd do anything." Jaaaaaaack 😭😭😭

Good old Ralph Kastrati. Single-handedly the most annoying character in all of cable television. Y'all have no idea what you're getting into with this one, dream team.

PUNCHFACE.

"My mom dated a guy like that once." Ouch. I'm about to start a Riley Zinger Counter for each episode. Her comebacks are 🔥

It's not just his face, Jack. Everything about this dude is punchable. Especially the way he says "yo."

Ewwww tightie whities no thanks imma head hom now byyye

Mac just snatched that can right out of Jack's hand as he was about to take a drink. Classic.

If I didn't hate Ralph before (spoiler: I did), then I extra hate him for the foie gras comment.

Yes, Jack, "asshat" is the perfect descriptor for this guy.

Is Mac seriously about to just make him some noise-canceling headphones? Who am I kidding? Of course he is.

I need more of Mac punching people in the face. For science.

Poor Jack didn't get to punch the punch face.

🎵 Snipers gonna snipe, snipe, snipe, snipe, snipe 🎵

Between the foie gras and the calfskin, they are really making this guy so easy to hate just sayin'.

"As soon as you're done saving his life, I'm gonna kill him, you hear that, smart-ass? I'm already dressed for the funeral." 🤣🤣🤣🤣

"He's g-good. He just... got kinda shot." Is that the medical terminology, Mac?

Jack using country music as a form of torture 🤣

"You're going to be seeing Yelp stars if you don't shut up!"

Have I mentioned how much I love the music in this show?

"I don't wanna die listening to country music!"

I love how bossy and grabby Mac gets when he improvises.

Another belt grab! I can’t get over Jack trying to keep his crazy partner from falling out of the window – it gives me life!

Actually makes me wonder if he does it because Mac’s taken a tumble out of a car window before. *fanfic brain engaged*

“You know how I feel about your puns.” C’mon, Mac, pus are the greatest forms of humor, bar-pun. (Geddit?)

Mc made a C in biology? I’m not buying it.

Dwwwwwww the sounds of the surgery. No thanks.

Though I will say this is one of the coolest (albeit grossest) things Mac’s ever done on this show.

What the heck is with that elevator door? It took a whole 10 years to close! I wouldn’t trust it. (To be fair, I don’t trust any elevator, but that’s neither here nor there.)

Sir Bleeds-a-Lot lol

Riley stepping in and taking charge once again. No idea how these two functioned before she came along.

Some seriously cool MacGyverisms in this episode. The whole process of “killing” Ralph and bringing him back with office supplies is so OG MacGyver and it gives me all the warm fuzzies.

Ralph: “You’re not a scientist, you’re not a doctor. So how the hell do you know all this stuff?” Mac: “...I read a lot of books?” I love Mac so much.

“Now go die.” Lolololol

The moment with Ralph wanting to call his mom and grow the hell up is surprisingly genuine and heartbreaking. Character development for a character in only one episode, hello, is that you?

“He’s dead, but he’ll get better.” MacGyver, 2016

Riley’s comeback about Jack’s plan to take out six guys if Mac takes out two is another winner. (Riley: 2, Jack: 0) Still, I love the whole, “Sure it does [count as a plan]. First, I’ll take two. Then, I’ll take the other four.” This is why Mac is the plan guy, not Jack.

“Or I can take them all out.” Mac’s confidence = 🔥

I might need to start a Mac sass counter too. Jack: “You seriously want me to put this on my face?” Mac: “Only if you like breathing.”

Jack’s left fist getting jealous 🤣

They really liked choking Mac in the early episodes, didn’t they? Not that I’m complaining. Actually, why did that stop? That strangled, panicked cry of “JACK?!” is music to my fanfic writing, hurt/comfort obsessed, whump-loving soul.

That cough - it actually hurts me to hear it! They should have given us some more repercussions or aftercare for Mac breathing in that gas!

Ralph fell asleep. Of course.

“You know, it’s weird. I’m glad he’s alive… but I still want to kill him. 🤣 I’m with Jack on this one!

Ralph: “A fresh start. I could use one of those right?” Riley: “Or a whole new personality.” ZZZING!!! Riley: 1 million, the world: -10

Oh he did not just call Riley “little hottie.” I’m back to wanting to kill him, character development be darned. So diminutive, dehumanizing, and objectifying. This guy has more than won the douchebag lottery. Riley can more than stick up for herself, but still. The way he speaks to her here makes me feel all kinds of gross.

He just said “ya heard” unironically. Can we let Jack punch him now, please?

Jack offering to let Ralph keep the cash he lifted if he gets to punch him is great, but even better is Mac and Riley offering to chip in money for The Cause.

Oh, yeah, Bozer was in this episode. I’m excited for when he is utilized more!

Bozer’s monster Mac is nightmare fuel!

“A letter? That you put in the mail? It’s 2016.” Hey, as someone who has an actual, old-school type pen pal, step off, Jack.

Mac: “You just gonna watch?” Jack, offended: “Not anymore.” How is it Jack is like Mac’s dad but they also bicker like 5-year-olds? This relationship is so strange, so wonderful, and the heart of the show in so many ways. I love them.

Mac’s words of wisdom about the nature of life are actually super encouraging and exactly what I needed to hear today.

I’d forgotten how much I love this episode – t’s so fun! Although the Codex storyline in season 4 is probably my favorite plot-wise, coming back to these early episodes is like a breath of fresh air! Excellent, excellent episode with so much to offer!

What are your thoughts on "Awl?" I'd love to discuss! :)