criminal-culture

[gwaeddblaidd]

Feed the Wolf Chapter 8 Excerpt (WIP)

A hunter having grown complacent, a predator turned prey, I come to a sudden halt as I feel the air turn ice-cold. A shiver runs down my spine as I feel a breath on the back of my neck, somehow colder still than the surrounding air. Why does this feel so real? I know for a fact that it isn’t, because I recognise the presence lurking behind me. After so many years of forced companionship, how could I not? It doesn’t usually feel this real though, so clear and defined and vivid. If I don’t turn around, I don’t have to face it – to face myself, or the fractured reflection of myself. Following the shattering of my psyche, two piles were formed from the shards: the pieces I was desperate to hold onto and scrambled to collect, and those that I allowed to fall into the grasp of my wolf. In the moment, perhaps some fraction of my mind recognised that I was letting go of the worst parts of myself, but knowing what I know now I would’ve much sooner remained whole. Leaving those parts of me under the guard of such an untrustworthy keeper, it’s no wonder they festered in the way they did.

That shambling mess of broken parts stands behind me now, corrupted and twisted almost beyond recognition. Almost, but not quite. Even as it radiates pure malevolence, preparing to strike me down, I feel a certain kinship towards it. I recognise the parts that I once lost and wish that I could reclaim them, as much as they disgust me, but I know that isn’t possible. No, it’s too late for such pleasantries. Tonight, all I can do is face myself. And face myself I do, turning slowly as I prepare to confront all that I most despise and pity. Despite everything, I don’t truly fear my wolf – not in here. Out in the real world its influence brings out the worst in me, but in my dreams all it can do is torment me. Nothing it can do to me here is real. Of course, pain doesn’t have to be real in order to be felt, the link between the mental and the physical being far too intimate to be broken by such meagre boundaries. I’m no stranger to pain though, and I’m a firm believer that the dark always precedes the dawn. Pain can be overcome, and most pains come to an end, given enough time. Does reliance on that hope make me an optimist? Perish the thought.

It’s not often I get the chance to see my wolf so clearly. In my dreams it usually remains hidden, torturing me with memories both true and false, hiding behind a smokescreen fuelled by the fires of hatred. Even now, its form is obscured by that smoke, thick rolling fumes rising and falling from the surface of what passes for its body. It’s almost fluid, moving unnaturally and without the restraint expected of a living being. Ripples spread throughout its form as it raises an arm, far too long and thin to be made of flesh and bone, jagged like broken glass in some places and closer to a liquid in others. I shudder at its touch, its claws trailing my jawline as it stares down at me with empty eyes – bright, but lacking life. My wolf is tall, taller than me, but not as tall as our shared bestial form; tall enough to intimidate me, at least. It’s not real, I feel the need to remind myself. As its hand moves down to my throat and its claws curve their way around my neck, I search for a sign of empathy in its scarce few features, but find none. All I see is a predator uncontested, a creature seeking pleasure in cruelty due to going unchallenged by its peers – myself, I suppose, in this case.

The human mind is amazing, perhaps most so in its capacity for imagination. So many experiences that the body has never undergone, the human mind knows how to replicate the feeling almost perfectly. That is perhaps the purest form of empathy – an instinctual understanding rooted most commonly in physical suffering. Some would say such things are passed down through our genetics, others point to the concept of a collective unconscious; the origin of this ability doesn’t matter. What matters is that when my wolf’s claws rip through the flesh of my throat, slicing the jugular and the carotid, tearing my vocal chords asunder, I feel everything. Logically, I have no way of knowing that the experience is true to life, but instinct insists upon that fact regardless. A pained, choked breath escapes me as nerve endings usually protected are born to the outside world, set ablaze by the air as it escapes through newly created openings. I struggle to maintain my footing as the blood begins to pool around me, my strength disappearing with each and every millilitre that pours from the carnage. My blood pressure drops and my vision becomes hazy, my brain desperately trying to apply logic to the dream, ensuring that everything is consistent with my perception of reality. Sometimes, I really wish it wouldn’t.

My legs finally give out from beneath me, buckling at the knees and forcing me into freefall. I fall backwards, my back arching as my balance, too, fails me. In my fall, through clouded vision, I can make out my wolf raising its hand to its mouth, crimson streams trickling down the length of its arm from something pink within its grasp. The flesh seems to writhe in its own agony, as if still connected to me and yearning to return. In some twisted sense it does return, as my wolf consumes the stray chunk in one bite. In that recognition it feels as if I’ve lost something – something small, something inconsequential, but something. Even more pressing though, is just how familiar this feels. It’s more than just instinct though. I’m not just vaguely familiar with the concept, but intimately so with the details. I’m on the other side of the pantomime this time around, though… Ah, so this is how my father felt. There are differences, but the final outcome is the same. This re-enactment from my wolf, what does it hope to accomplish? Whether mere torment or a grand lesson, I cannot say; in either case, it all comes down to empathy once again.

---

A quick excerpt from the dream sequence that kicks off Chapter 8 in my ongoing Wednesday fic, Feed the Wolf. I post this now because, well, I'm quite happy with the opening segment (this is but a small portion of it) but I just can't get the rest of the chapter down for some reason. I finished the opening probably a couple weeks ago by now, but for whatever reason the remainder evades me. It's annoying timing too, since I'm in a rare period of having minimal real life obligations for a little while, but writing just isn't working. Posting this, then, makes me feel like I'm at least writing for more than just myself, if that makes sense?

Ah well, I'll get it done eventually, I'm sure. I was really hoping to get this chapter out within a month of the previous one, so as to avoid starting a downward trend on the (admittedly non-existent) release schedule. Still, this fic is still very much present in my mind, which is more than I can say for some of my creative ventures!

Since I'm already posting this, I suppose it would be remiss not to shamelessly self-promote in earnest at the same time. Find the fic on AO3 here or on FF here. There are 7 chapters so far, and I can promise that it isn't dead and abandoned. Oh, and I suppose it's only fair that I warn ahead of time that there is a non-Wenclair romantic relationship involving Enid, so if that's something you want to avoid, I completely understand!

If you've read this far, thank you! Have a wonderful day :)

[superfluouskeys]

foot update/mental health stuff

so yesterday I went to what I call the overpriced grocery store which honestly is probably a normal priced grocery store these days but I do not wish to believe it, but anyway it’s the only grocery store I can reasonably walk to (and they have a few select items that are either reasonably priced or i will simply buy anyway bc too much of a hassle to get elsewhere) but bc there’s a lot of construction in that area the least insane way to get there is up about three flights of stairs LOL.  and while going upstairs is now more or less okay for me, going DOWNstairs is not, so I wasn’t sure if this adventure would be a good idea but……….i really needed some things LOL.

the grocery trip went really well – I put an ace bandage on my foot just in case and very much shuffled down the stairs leaning on the handrail but it didn’t hurt or anything I was just being extra cautious.  so when I got home I was like, wellllllllll, my foot is already wrapped and I feel good…………dance time???  and of course I was having so much fun even having to be extremely careful that I worked through several dances I thought I could probably handle, I puttered around and did some light cleaning, I paced my apartment a fair amount because idk I was jazzed by the prospect of physical activity LOL

and looking at my fitbit stats I guess I actually did a lot yesterday!  but I felt so good I wasn’t even thinking about it, so today my body is EXHAUSTED and all my stats are bad LOL!  but goddddddd it feels so good to be able to be physically active again, like I KNEW it was gonna be really bad when I hurt my foot, like that was the FIRST thing I thought and what got me so upset was just, this is the only thing keeping me sane, I am going to be so crazy if I can’t use exercise as a stress reliever – and I’ve been thinking a lot that I’m honestly pretty proud of myself for handling the situation as well as I have and not just completely crumbling lol, but even KNOWING that not exercising is a one-way ticket to crazytown I still had this moment yesterday where I was like oh wow I feel normal and not depressed suddenly!!! huh! wonder what could have caused this!

and granted forcing myself to take a few days off + engage in my hobbies was also a contributing factor but like…..I mostly spent Friday catching up on admin tasks and I was absolutely crazy about my class at like 1 am on Saturday morning, and usually just resting to calm down kind of takes a few days to take effect lol like I was pretty sure the extra days off were more of a band-aid to keep me from snapping than an actual solution. 

and idk I think there was some value in having to just……..sit with myself while I was upset.  like I cannot stress how often over the last few weeks I was just sitting in my chair with my foot elevated on another chair, violently sobbing, because I couldn’t even go for a walk LOL.  It was kind of wild to realize that even when I was absolutely spiraling there was still a very sound voice of reason that was just like calmly countering every crazy thought I had even when I couldn’t really feel the truth of it, and I think that’s a real testament to how far I’ve come. and it's also like......it kind of forced me to face what was and wasn't working for me instead of just using intense exercise to cope with it.  BUT I was also like passively suicidal the whole time LOL so it’s definitely better to have the option of physical activity that has maybe a 0.00001 percent failure rate for making me feel better instantly.

I still have to be very careful, and I really think the spectre of having to go back to the foot elevation chair of sorrows will keep me on my best behavior, but WOW this is really going to help me get through the rest of this term with my sense of self intact LOL!

[h0neypjm]

Just for practice | kth

↳ Summary: “I think we should normalise giving head to your friends as practice.”

↳ Pairing: Taehyung x Reader, slight Hoseok x reader

↳ Genre: Smut, pwp, some plot i guess, best friend! Taehyung

↳ Rating: 18+

↳ Word count: 5.3k

↳ Warnings: swearing, lip biting, hickies, oral (both female and male receiving), rough blowjobs, spanking, fingering, squirting, big dick! Tae, possessiveness/jealousy, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap pls), dom/sub themes, Taehyung calls reader lots of pet names (sweetheart, darling, good girl), degradation, biting, slight cockwarming

↳ a/n: I’ve been having major writer’s block while writing confident :( however, i saw this tweet which prompted this lil oneshot hope you enjoy

Jung Hoseok [ 2:15 PM ]

Am I gonna see you at Seokjin’s tomorrow?

You [ 2:16 PM ]

I’ll be there :)

Jung Hoseok [ 2:18 PM ]

You’re not gonna run away from me this time, right?

You [ 2:20 PM ]

No of course not haha

Jung Hoseok [ 2:21 PM ]

Is that a promise princess?

A sigh flies out of your mouth like wind through a window and you’re shucking off your glasses in an instant. Hoseok’s texts bringing back a flurry of memories that you wish to forget.

“Do you need help with your essay again?”

Your eyes are strained when they try to focus on Taehyung, your shoulders shrug in defeat. “No, I’m fine. It’s just-”

Taehyung knows immediately, he is your best friend after all. “Let me guess, It’s Hoseok isn’t it?” 

You slump in your seat while a pout is cutely drawn onto your face, you nod with dismay. “I really like him Tae, and every time we see each other, It’s like the universe has it out for me and tries to make sure I embarrass myself in front of him.”

Taehyung shuts his laptop because he knows there's no use in trying to write an essay while you speak about your utterly tragic love life. He thinks about your situation for a minute before he speaks.

“Yes, you might’ve spilled your beer on him and accidentally punched him in the eye, more than once. But, if he’s still texting you he’s obviously still into you. It’s a good sign sweetheart.” Taehyung pats your hand across the coffee table, a comforting smile adorning his handsome face.

Taehyung doesn’t know the full extent of your problem and the more you think about it the more embarrassing it becomes. So you smile back at him uttering a small thank you before turning back to your laptop.

Taehyung raises a brow, “wait, wait, hang on, something is still bothering you.” 

You frown, “it’s embarrassing.”

Taehyung shuffles around the corner of the coffee table as if you’re about to tell him a secret, though it’s just the two of you in his small apartment. “Just tell me, it can’t be that bad.”

“Taehyung it is that bad.” You tilt your head at him, pulling up the sleeves of your sweater around your tiny fists. “You’re gonna laugh at me.”

Taehyung feigns shock at your words, his hands placed on his heart for dramatic effect. “I would never laugh, and frankly I’m offended you think that low of me.” 

You roll your eyes, turning your body more towards him, deciding it wouldn't hurt letting Taehyung know the thoughts plaguing your mind. “Well, you know how Hoseok and I have been kind of flirty lately, right?” He nods in understanding. 

“I can tell he wants more than that, you know? His touches are small but I know exactly what he’s suggesting, and don’t get me wrong, the feeling is completely mutual because trust me I want that too. Really bad.” 

Taehyung hums, interrupting your soon-to-be graphic rambling. “I totally get it Y/N. Now let’s stop beating around the bush so I can help you.”

If Taehyung were a girl, this would be so much easier. You curse your eight-year-old self who just had to become friends with a boy because God, how do you even start?

Taehyung is a patient man, always giving you space before helping you but, in this situation, you feel it’s best to just rip the band-aid off. Taehyung if you can read my mind, please don’t laugh at me.

“I’venevergivensomeoneablowjob.”

You speak so suddenly, Taehyung’s not so sure he heard you correctly. “Huh?”

“Goddammit Tae”, you rub and your temples and avoid his stare. “I’ve never given someone a blowjob!”

His eyes are wide. “Oh” 

You hide your face into the table while your body internally cringes. At least he didn’t laugh. “See! You do think it’s bad.”

“I’m just surprised to be honest”, he reassures, leaning back onto his palms, strong brows pulled together in thought. “Shit Y/N, have you really never sucked a dick before?”

Sure, you’ve had sex many times (most of which have been extremely disappointing) but, it seems that most of your hookups want to get straight into fucking. No foreplay, no nothing. Just unseasoned, pleasureless fucking.

A groan rumbles out of your throat, “It just never happened! They were all about that hump and dump lifestyle I guess.”

Taehyung is utterly baffled at your statement. In Taehyung’s books, It is compulsory to treat every women like a queen. Preparing and edging them the perfect amount of times to see them crumble so sensually by his very doing. To Taehyung, seeing a woman cry out his name from experiencing the most explosive, leg-shaking orgasm was always his favourite part.

This is why Taehyung is absolutely shattered for you. “So, you’re also telling me no one has ever eaten you out?” You miserably nod, “that’s actually fucking evil!”

His words do not ease you one bit as you throw your head onto the seat behind you. “The way you say it makes me feel even worse. This is the sole reason why I run away from Hoseok and make a fool out of myself.”

Taehyung doesn’t say anything, the air floating around carrying an awkward silence. You don’t really care and you don’t expect Taehyung to think of a solution. Plus, you’re already embarrassed enough.

You might as well leave and ask one of your girlfriends for help, maybe finish your essay while you’re at it. You sigh, shutting your laptop and stacking your books together. 

However, the next sentence that flies out of Taehyung’s mouth makes you stop dead in your tracks.

“I think I’ve figured out how I can help you.”

Wiggling back into a comfortable seating position, you lean into Taehyung with interest. “And how might you help me, dear Taehyung?”

He eyes you nervously, his fingers fiddling with his chunky rings, “You trust me, right?”

You smile, “yeah, of course, you’re my best friend Tae.”

An exhale puffs out of his mouth. “Why not practice on me?”

You almost choke on your spit. You definitely did not expect him to say that. “Could you repeat that please?”

A new glint of mischief sparkles in his eye. “Why not let me teach you how to give Hoseok the blowjob of his life and in return, I’ll eat you out”

Your brain is having a meltdown. 

“You’re fucking crazy”, you wail. “You actually want me to suck your dick?”

He brings his hands up in defence, “I think we should normalize giving head to your friends as practice, I don’t think it’s such a bad idea. Think about it, you get to learn and cum at the same time.”

You won’t lie to yourself, the proposal is tempting and in all honesty, Taehyung is hot as fuck. You will forever thank the Gods above for blessing you with the delicious sight that is your best friend. However, the proposition puts you in an odd spot.

Apprehensive about your thoughts, you state your unease, “I-I don’t know Taehyung, don’t you think this might ruin our friendship?” An exhale, “have you seriously thought of me that way?”

Taehyung chuckles, it’s deep and totally unexpected to your question. “Sweetheart, there are many things that go on inside my head involving you. And to answer your question, they’re not completely innocent.”

A startled gasp is ripped from your throat and your stomach flutters with a dangerous mix of nervousness, thrill and dare you say arousal.

Never in your life would you have imagined Kim Taehyung, your best friend since grade school, seeing you in such an inviting way. To make matters worse, It was intimidating to think about his fair share of experience and the long line of women backing up the fact that Taehyung was indeed some sort of sex demon.

Of course, you felt the same way. How could you not! The man was practically an incarnation of a Greek God. Broad sturdy shoulders that sat atop thick muscular thighs, and how could you forget his gorgeous fingers.

You’d die before you admit it, but there have been many nights where you have found yourself thinking about what his pretty long fingers could do to you. Those nights always ended with a mess of your sheets and a wetness between your thighs. It was your dirty little secret, however, it seems Taehyung also had some of his own.

His sharp eyes storm with darkness when he speaks, “don’t lie Y/N, I know you’ve had some dirty thoughts about me up in that pretty little head of yours.”

Pink blossoms over your cheeks like wildfire because he’s so terrifyingly right. “I don’t even need to touch you sometimes, one look and you’re a goner.” You gulp. “Look at you right now.” His gaze drops down to your thighs. “All my talking making you so needy, you need to clench your thighs to keep it together.”

He smiles, though it’s not his usual boxy, boyish smile. It’s dangerous and seductive almost smirking and shit when did he get so close to you? Your breathing is erratic and you have no idea how you could be so anxious yet so amorous at the same time. 

Your heart beats rapidly in your ears. “This is just for practice, right?”

Taehyung curses under his breath, “just for practice sweetheart.”

You don’t get to respond.

His lips are hesitant at first when they meet yours, yet his hands say the opposite. They start at your waist and tickle their way down to your stiff hands. Ever so gently, he pries them open, intertwining his long fingers with yours, and God, did his hands feel so right.

Your nerves dissipate slowly but surely as you allow him to explore your mouth with his skilful tongue. 

Much to Taehyung’s dismay, he finds you releasing your fingers from his own. Your hands flying to the nape of his neck, ultimately bringing him closer to you, deepening the kiss. Taehyung moans in delight when you tug at his long curls, you bite his lip in reply while lust paints your vision and dampens your panties.

Taehyung never knew he would miss the feeling of your lips against his when he painfully pushes himself away to situate himself comfortably on the couch. It was time for the lesson to begin.

You pout at the distance, trying to wiggle close until he motions for you to get into a particular position. Your insides swell with eagerness.

His voice is sweet and his hands are delicate when he tucks a few strands of hair behind your ear. “Get down on your knees for me sweetheart.” You obey immediately. He smirks at your sinking form. “Good girl.”

You swear right then and there your pussy had gained a working heartbeat at his words. The unfamiliar pulse thumping as if it were trying to break loose from the constraints of your sweatpants.

Your eyes are big and expectant, slowly drinking up the sight of Taehyung’s delicious figure seated above you. He sits on the couch like it’s his throne, legs spread to accompany your kneeling figure, and dominating stare pinning you down. A shiver runs down your spine.

“Wh-what do I do now?” You utter, making it known to Taehyung that he is in charge. He is in control.

Taehyung cocks his head to the side, using a decorated pointer finger to hither your hands towards him. Hesitantly, you raise both hands, lightly placing them down on his thighs.

A click of his tongue makes its way to your ears and you know you’ve already made your first mistake. Taehyung’s brows furrow, it’s obvious you need to make the next move but your brain is fuzzy and flustered. 

He sighs at your confused silence, bringing your small hands onto his belt. Oh, you know what you’re supposed to do now.  

“I thought you were smarter than this, how else are you meant to get my dick out, hmm?” The blush across your cheeks has definitely spread profusely from his teasing. Its once peachy pink tone deepening into an embarrassing cherry red.

The buckle of his belt jingles under your fingertips as you nervously undo them. You’re apparently too slow for his liking, Taehyung finishing the job by pulling his belt off his pants, leaving you to stare down at the large bulge covered by the fabric of his tight jeans. You thought you had your nerves under control but the way your hands start to shake is an indication that this is real. You’re really about to suck your best friend off.

Ever the observant friend, Taehyung is quick to notice the slight shake in your fingers. “Wait, stop.”

You do as he says, quickly settling your palms back on the thickness of his covered thighs. “Are you sure you want to do this? your hands are shaking sweetheart.” His voice is laced with concern, a total switch to his previous words.

Clearing your throat you reply, “oh, no, no I’m fine.” You lock eyes. “I just want to make sure I’m doing good so I can be good for him.”

Possessiveness flares within Taehyung’s chest and he has no idea why. Although he doesn’t let it show, he can’t help the swell of his ego at the knowledge that he’s the first to get you like this. Not Hoseok. Him.

So, he grins his wide boxy grin, dragging a finger down your warm cheek. “Don’t worry darling, you’re in great hands”

The commanding smirk etched onto his lips sparks a surge of confidence through your veins, begging you to finally touch him.

With a tug of your small hands, Taehyung’s constricting jeans are pried off the taut muscle of his thighs and are left to pool around his ankles. The excitement of finally being able to suck dick coursing through your body like lighting, and just like his jeans, Taehyung’s boxers are off in a second.

His cock springs, tall, hard and proud. Your jaw drops, Taehyung chuckles at your reaction. You feel an ooze of wetness pooling in your panties.

His size is nothing you’ve seen before, thick and girthy with an impressive length to match. You wince at the thought of fitting him down your throat.

The cold metal of his rings against your hands brings your attention to Taehyung’s handsome face. Without breaking any eye contact, he wordlessly wraps your hands around the thickness of his cock.

It’s warm and swells in your palm, your two dainty hands stacked on top of each other. Fingers trying so hard to wrap themselves around the sheer girth of his cock.

You’re not dumb, you know what comes next. With a sharp inhale you begin to stroke up his length, paying close attention to his facial expression to get an idea of how well you’re doing

Taehyung’s head tilts to get a better view at your hands, “grip it tighter for me… yeah fuck that’s it.”

His praise boasts you on, holding tighter onto his cock and gathering the slick of his pre-cum with a twist of your wrist. Your eyes remain focused on the way the skin moves with your hands and the way his tip glistens with arousal. You want to lick it.

“When you’re ready you can put your mouth- Ahh shit Y/N!”

He didn’t need to finish his sentence when you’re already so eager to have him in your mouth. You do what you think would feel best, sucking on the head of his cock like a sweet ice lolly on a hot summer's day. Your tongue tracing the thick circumference before dipping into his slit.

A light groan falls from his mouth as he watches you lap at the remaining pre-cum that glistens in the afternoon light. Taehyung almost forgets why he’s here, lost in your plump lips wet with saliva.

Right, he’s here to teach you how to give a blowjob. “Try and take my whole length in darling.” 

You nod, taking a deep breath, your mouth opening wider to take him in as far as you can. You try to keep your throat relaxed taking him inch by inch.

“That's a good girl”, he praises, “you’re doing so well for me.” 

Your knees squeeze together, acting to relieve some pressure on your aching heat. It had truly been a while since you got some serious action.

Surprisingly you’re able to make your way to the hilt of his cock, a choked gag sputtering from your lips.

A few strands of hair fall in your face, blocking your eyes in the process. Swiftly, Taehyung brushes the hair from your eyes while simultaneously lifting your head off of his cock. 

You release him with a satisfying pop, your eyes wide and makeup a little smudged. Taehyung coaches you through the next steps. “I want you to try and do that again, but when you come back up, lick the length of my cock and look at me while you do it.”

Humming in acknowledgment you grip the base of his cock before pausing. “Isn’t this what you like though? What if Hoseok likes to be touched in a different way?”

An unintentional growl bubbles out of his mouth. Oh how he wished he could take your mind off Hoseok and have you screaming his name, thinking about him instead.

He pushes down his discontentment with the other man on your mind, “men are simple creatures Y/N, just making out sometimes can get them going. And judging by the way you’re sucking my cock right now, I’m sure Hoseok will be crazy for you.”

As Taehyung explains the ins and outs of a man’s brain, you don’t make an effort to stop the teasing of his cock. His words sound slurred, they go in one ear and out the other, and besides the delicious length in front of you is much more fascinating.

For the time being you stare up at him, your eyes wide feigning interest in his words, all while you grip his cock in one hand and continuously lap at his tip with a kitten-like flick of your tongue. 

Taehyung finally realises that you’ve stopped listening when he feels the small yet downright sensual pleasure shooting through his cock. He grunts, pushing your hair back once again, “fuck, that’s hot. You’re so fucking good.”

His preoccupied hand squeezes the pillows beside him, the veins of his hands popping out. You do what he taught you, seductive eyes laser focused on him while your wicked tongue leaves a hot trail up the prominent vein on his dick.

“Shit Y/N you’re doing so well-”

You release him from your mouth disrupting his sentence, “can you fuck my throat?”

Taehyung swears his whole body just convulsed at your request. He looks away just so he can contain himself because holy shit.

Obviously Taehyung has thought about you being in this position, saying those words. Yet, no matter how many times he fantasizes this scenario, nothing would ever prepare him for those words to actually come out of your mouth with the most bewitching grin plastered on your pretty face.

He stutters, “I- no, I don’t know if you can take it darling.”

You grip his thighs, pout forming on those dangerous lips of yours, “please Tae, I want it. Want you to use me.”

Taehyung pushes the curls of his bangs away, a hiss steaming from his lips. “Alright, but if you feel any discomfort pinch my thigh, okay sweetheart?”

You’re impatient, “yeah, yeah, I can take your monster dick.” You place a small kiss on his thigh, “do your worst.”

His movements are all too fast, all too sudden. His fingers securing a death-grip on the mess of your hair before holding his cock up to your mouth. “You asked for it darling.”

Your mouth automatically widens, welcoming the rough intrusion of his cock as it slides all the way down your throat. A lewd gag fills the room.

A dark cloud of lust of dominance fogs Taehyung’s vision, his biceps flexing when he brings your head up and down his thick velvety length.

The room resounds with the filthy wet noises of your saliva covered lips pumping repeatedly. Taehyung breathes heavily through his nose, tilting his head against the cushions behind him. He keeps his hips still, yanking your hair at an obscene pace. A slew of curses and moans fly out into the air as he revels at the complete state of ecstasy you’ve put him under.

The heat of his member burns the back of your throat but you fucking love it. You open your teary eyes, gazing at his chiseled jaw and the way he shivers and groans above you. It only spurs you on when he glances back down, meeting your mascara ruined eyes.

It’s like a knee-jerk reaction. Taehyung harshly pushes your head all the way to the base of his cock. Your face is met with his abdomen, the hairs of his happy trail tickling your nose.

He leaves you there, and the burn in your throat rises, leaving you gagging, your throat tightening around him.

Taehyung believes after this he could never get the image of your messy docile eyes and tarnished lips out of his brain. He feels your throat constrict, “sh-shit, fuck Y/N, breathe through your nose.” You inhale. “That’s my good girl.”

He releases you from his member only to push your lips back onto him, going back to his beastly pace. “You look so fucking pathetic, you think Hoseok wants a messy girl like you?”

You gurgle around him, tears freely falling down your cheeks as you try to shake your head no. He only mumbles out a groan, his cock abruptly pulsing under your tongue like a steady heartbeat.

It's all too sudden when he releases your head off his length, a glob of drool dripping down your chin and onto your shirt. 

“Fuck sorry I was about to cum.”

Although your heart swells with pride you wonder, “why didn’t you?”

He runs a hand through his messy locks, “the purpose of this was to teach you, don’t you still want to practice?”

You’re smug with your answer, “I think I’ve got the hang of it now.”

He swipes a finger under your tear stained eyes, “getting cocky now are we.” 

You were cocky indeed, “well I did get you shaking under my touch didn’t I?”

He rolls his eyes, “get up you brat, I’m gonna show you what you’ve been missing out on.”

Fucking finally.

You won’t lie, you were probably most excited to finally know what it feels like to receive head. Your mind is still fuzzy from Taehyung’s rough ministrations as you slowly get up. You wobble slightly and Taehyung is quick to stabilize you with two strong arms holding the curve of your hips in place.

With his arms already around you he pushes you towards the couch, kicking his jeans off in the process.

Back flat against his plush couch you’re already stripping off your sweatpants and panties together in one. “My, my aren’t you eager”, he teases, a glint of shamelessness twinkling in his brown orbs when he drinks up the plushness of your thighs leading to your dripping cunt.

Holding your knees in the palm on his hands, he spreads them open to reveal the glossy folds on your heat. He kisses his teeth, satisfaction and hunger clear on his face. “Fuck, isn’t this a pretty sight.”

His words bring back a blush on your cheeks, you pull him forward, your lips inches away from his own. “Shut up please.”

And he shuts you up real good. Smashing your lips to his, he envelopes you into a feverish kiss, your tongues dancing the devil's tango.

His hands are adventurous, feeling the mounds of your breasts over your shirt. “Why the fuck isn’t your shirt off yet huh?” He tuts, pulling on the cotton fabric.

“I want yours off too.” You cutely mumble tugging at the hem of his shirt, to which he complies, tugging it off in one fluid motion. 

You peel your baggy shirt off just in time to see Taehyung's arm flex as he takes his very own shirt off. “Have you been working out? My God Tae, you're as big as Joon.”

He inwardly smirks because yeah he’s been working out and it's clearly paying off. He doesn’t want to show his glee however, “can we not talk about other men when I’m about to eat you out.”

You chuckle, eyes trailing down his buff arms to his v-line that leads to his dick like an arrow directing you to his treasure. You bite your lip, unclipping your lace bralette, “sure, sure, let’s get the show on the road.”

It’s Taehyung turn to drink up the sight of your body. “Fuck, always imagined what these tits looked like under all those tight clothes you wear.”

He’s really feeding into your praise kink. “Well, were they what you expected?”

He sucks on one immediately and you arch your back at the unexpected pleasure. “Even better”, he squeezes them in his palms, “they’re fucking gorgeous.”

He sucks a deep hickey under your left breast, leaving you whimpering with a hand tangled in his hair. “Always imagined what you sounded like moaning for me.”

You can’t reply, his touches burning through your skin. He kisses down your sternum to your stomach until he’s hovering above your aching clit, a tantalising grin on his face before he’s diving in.

“Fuck!” You wail at the unfamiliar yet mesmerising feelings. His tongue is stiff and pointed, flicking quickly up and down your bundle of nerves. 

The grip you have on his hair is deathly but it's the only thing in your reach that can ground you. He licks a long stripe down your sopping slit, keeping his sharp eyes on you the whole time.

“F-feels so fucking good Tae!” You almost scream. He cups his lips around your swollen nub sucking on it with a shit-eating grin on his face.

You’re too dazed to comment on it, reeling in the new pleasures you’re experiencing. You stare down at him, your eyes half opened and so close to rolling to the back of your head.

However, they almost completely open wide at the sight presented before you. With two long fingers, Taehyung is shoving them in his mouth, soaking them with his spit before rubbing them onto your sensitive folds.

You beg. “Put them inside.. Please.” Taehyung doesn’t make a sound only kissing your clit as he plunges his ring decorated fingers into you.

You’re so wet his fingers slide into you with ease. He groans at the sensation, his view focused on the way your cunt greedily sucks him in.

“Look at you, getting my rings all dirty you filthy girl”, he scolds watching the way your essence drips into the crevices of his intricate jewellery. 

Taehyung increases the pace of his long fingers, finger fucking you into euphoria. He doesn’t stop there, his lips returning to your desperate clit in a wet mess of your juices and his saliva.

You can feel your orgasm bubbling in your stomach. It's hot and feels so unlike any other upcoming orgasm you’ve experienced. His fingers curl inside of you, his palm slapping your folds with his rapid pace and his lips don’t give any sign of stopping.

“Taehyung- Tae, I’m cumming!” You really scream this time, your orgasm taking control over your body like a demon. 

You swear your eyes black out, your body shaking, a warmth gushing out of your cunt as it spazzes out.

Your chest heaves and you blink, feeling a damp pool around you. Oh God, Did you piss yourself?

“Holy fuck Y/N, I can’t believe you just did that.”

You sit up, embarrassed, an apology falling from your lips.

“You just squirted on me.”

You’re flushed, “I- what?”

Taehyung almost looks akin to a wolf hunting down his prey. “That was the hottest fucking experience of my life, holy shit I’m so hard.”

Well at least you didn’t pee on his couch. There’s a surge of overwhelming need for his cock to be inside of you. You’ve never felt this way before, it’s scary but so is this whole experience. It’s definitely one for the books.

Getting up on your knees you hold onto his shoulders, Taehyung raises a brow. “Fuck, I need to ride you, can I ride you?”

You think you just saw his dick twitch at your words. He grins, “just for practice?”

Your smile is sickly sweet, “of course, just for practice.”

His arms are strong when he shuffles into a seated position all while holding your hips above his awaiting cock.

He pauses, a flash of his normal self resurfacing. “You’re on the pill yeah?”

You peck his lips, “yes, now stuff me full.”

That’s all the confirmation he needs before he’s sinking you down onto his length. 

You both let out moans of pleasure at the feeling of being complete. The stretch hurts so bad but hurts so good. He fills you up so well it has you speechless, the air trapped inside your lungs refusing to be released until your walls are comfortable around his impressive girth.

Mumbling a soft curse, you swivel your hips in slow circles, getting used to his large size. Taehyung watches you, hunger written on his face as he licks his lips and examines the way you fit so perfectly on his lap.

You test the waters, holding onto his shoulders for support. You lift your hips and settle back onto his lap. He groans at the wet squelch it makes and slaps your ass, grabbing it in his hand to squeeze it.

You pick up the speed, pumping up and down, whimpering at how well he fills you up. You keep your gaze trained on the image of his dick disappearing in your heat and pulling out with a wet sheen.

Taehyung tucks a finger under your chin, bringing you close to his face to push his soft lips onto yours once again.

It’s weird to say, but you don’t think you can get tired of kissing your best friend. He knows exactly what you want and knows exactly how to make your head spin.

With his large hands of yours, you pick up the pace, slamming your ass onto his hips. You leave his lips, kissing the side of jaw and suckling a few lovebites behind his ear.

His voice is deep and sultry, “fuck yeah, that’s it.” You wail in his hold, pushing yourself to meet his thrusts below. Your thighs burn but the pleasure burns so much hotter.

You feel your second orgasm of the night rising within you and can tell Taehyung is close too. Taehyung assists you, using his thighs to push up into you. Your juices drip down onto his pelvis and both of your breaths get heavier.

His thrusts are fast and rough, creating loud slapping noises that echo around his empty apartment. He grunts, folding his head into the crook of your neck. He’s about to cum and so are you.

With one final gasp your release hits you like a truck. Your thigh shakes in his lap and Taehyung bites at the delicate skin of your neck. His warm seed shoots inside of you, eliciting a small sigh from your lips.

Taehyung releases his hold to lean back onto the couch. He keeps his softening cock inside of you, lazily staring at your fucked out expression.

You play with his rings, “well, how did I do?”

The shit-eating grin is back. “Hmmm, I think you may need more practice.”

[lazycheesecakeee]

Stray kids as love languages

Ok so I started thinking and that’s never good and somehow this got CHUNKY AF :))) But I hope you enjoy reading my messy thoughts about skz expressing love :)

Bang Chan

Giving: Gifts/Words of affirmation

Yeah SO… we all know how he always seems to always give the closest people to him, like everything, including the moon and a fucking rocket to the moon as well, and build it too, that before he gets anything at all? He is definitely a giver. He buys food, drinks, anything.

Anything you would accomplish, no matter how small would be an excuse for him to go out and buy you a meal and while you are there, if you only happen to glance at something twice, you already have it? Yeah you might feel bad and try to pay or say “stop giving me things all the time” but he would not stop and he would buy you the thing and shower you with praises for how well you did, even if you think it is not such a big deal.

You have a normal day when nothing happened? You go to the store together, he pays. He comes to visit you randomly. On the way he buys a flower and a random chocolate or a drink because he remembers somehow that you said you wanted to try it like 3 months ago. And the list never ends. He has a good sense for what people want too. So if you are close to him he gives you EVERYTHING. Showers of praises and all of his fucking money :)))) BOY HAS NO LIMITS.

Receiving: words of affirmation

Listennnn, as much as he gives and never stops, like NEVER. (Take his credit card away lmaoooo), when you acknowledge his little appreciations and thank him sweetly or give him a hug to let him know you are grateful, he gets immense satisfaction. I feel like he is the one to give but if he feels like he is used in the slightest he definetly cuts the rope short real FUCKING FAST.

I feel like he def is SUCH a sucker for appreciation and words of affirmation AND COMPLIMETS. He wants to feel needed and like his efforts are worth it. And giving him the verbal queue that his efforts don’t go unnoticed, that despite his busy schedule you appreciate the time with him, that his hard work and struggles to be the best are worth it, that the nights in the studio are fruitful and he is doing a good job, THAT would really make his entire day and his anxieties dissipate. Let him know he is wanted. Poor baby someone give him a sleep schedule too and some melatonin :)))))

Lee Know/Minho

Giving: Acts of service

He def strikes as one weird cranky, moody, annoying bitch with his behaviour but if you pay closer attention he is actually so observant and thoughtful/caring. He seems like you would not want to go to him for things but I actually think that if you take the time and grow close to him he is one of the most caring and protective people tbh.

Like it’s in his nature to pay attention to what close ones are doing, their schedules, interests and habits. He is the kind of person to never purposefully say or make a fuss out of doing something but somehow he knows you need something or you want something. And he buys the thing and puts it in the fridge. Or changes the sheets because he feels you are too sad and unmotivated and that would be good. Or buys something definitely because “he wanted it” but gets more, and a side of the thing you like a lot, because “it was there”, definitely not because he thought of you and that it would bring you joy. Or he would like pick a prescription for you or refill your water bottle before leaving or tell you to bring band-aids because you complained those shoes hurt you. Or tell me this boy would not chop the onions for the pasta sauce so you don’t ruin your mascara (I am not sobbing you are).  And he somehow fits himself in and things add up so well and your life is so much easier despite him claiming he „did nothing”.

Receiving: Words of affirmation

Although it doesn’t seem like it, something tells me it’s true. I read on an internet thing that people that seem cold and don’t want/seem to have the need for verbal affirmation and validation from strangers get actually more satisfaction from it than people who say it explicitly.

He also def strikes me like he was raised to be tough, to recover fast, to not be a cry baby and just get up and do the job, suck it up, be strong and independent. A little bit of trust issues into the mix as well ☹ You can actually kinda see a sort of anxious behaviour type of thing in him. So I feel like if you actually grow closer to him (ahem Jisung), acknowledging his efforts and how he makes your life easier, THAT would bring out the asshole being like “oh really? Hm interesting you think I do so much for you huh?” but he actually does thooo and you saying it would bring him like so much joy and make his heart happy.

Like each time you give him a compliment TM he would act like “yeah I know” or act disgusted but high key it soothes his spirit and ego when you say such things. He just loooves to hear how much you loved something he cooked or how attractive he was while dancing or how he was really thoughtful, and you appreciate it sm. He seems to have the nature to give, and he seems to expect to go unnoticed but when and if you do acknowledge his heart is actually swooning over it.

Changbin

Giving: Physical touch/Gifts

I think he would be the type to bring weird things to you for no reason along with 1000 kisses and a hug that is a bit too tight you know? Like his mind gets occupied with you if you are close.

And like he saw this weird card at the store or a little figurine or something which has a weird patters and he thought “Hm they must see this. They would like this strange ass thing I bought which was overpriced”. And when he gives you the thing you give like an odd smile and in your eyes is a „love you but wtf is this” and he would take your hands and look down and kiss them and say “I don’t know i thought you might like it?” And you would tease each other and he would start doing ayego and get really shy and just hug you again and place his head in your neck to avoid the eye contact, then lift you up and spin you and from there you have no chances of escaping the embrace TM.

Receiving: Physical touch

I feel like he would be a sucker for physical touch as your love language as well. If you reciprocate hugs, kisses and stuff. You know he seems like the kind to find comfort in holding you for no reason, like a hand on the knee or on your waist and if you two are comfy and give him little pets, stroke his hair, place your hand on his shoulder or biceps or take his hand with both yours or grab his middle randomly, he would swoon. Also you clinging to him and letting him cling to you I think is like thing he wishes for most tbh:) I feel like he feels safety and love by holding onto you and you onto him like he can protect you. He would like to know you trust him with that, ya know? Like he is a strong bitch ready to fight anyone coming at you and can protect you but is also your smol koala child which you can never escape.

Hyunjin

Giving: physical touch

Now this might seem weird to you BUT. He seems like he touches people out of nowhere sometimes and kinda clings. Not like all the time but enough. Like he likes being really close to you if he is close to you, you know?. He would be all up in your face with his weird ass mannerisms and humour but if they are reciprocated and he feels safe and good around you he naturally starts to cling if that makes sense? Like in a way a sort of telling others: “mine, you cannot have them before me” but also in the sense that you know he would do anything for you if you ask in those instances. Like YO, you have me, soul and body next to you, I am here :)))

Like he doesn’t seem like the type to buy things a lot (cheap ass I see you :)))) although he would sometimes) But he makes up by being there and encouraging you despite not knowing how to act or what to say all the time, he lets you know you can count on him and he is there. I feel like his touch expresses appreciation.

Receiving: words of affirmation/quality time

He strikes me as attention demanding lmao:)) OH I am yours pay attention to me I am your baby I require love and affection, undivided.

So if you make time to have lunch with him or have conversations before bed in peace (my dude seems like his thoughts overwhelm him all the time and honestly same :/ it’s kinda yikes tbh), or watch a movie/tv show, or just be in his presence when he is both excited or down, and listen to him rant and give him solutions or rant with him about random subjects and jumping around between them subjects, you would get all the uwus and he would probably be ready to dedicate his entire existence to your well being and desires.

He is just like that, a dramatic ass with overly changing emotions who wants a good connection, like a genuine one, where hours go by and someone truly understands him and things flow, ya know? (seems like the type to believe in fate type of love, which I find interesting)

Han Jisung

Giving: Physical touch/ Words of affirmation

He seems really touchyyyyy TM. But like in the way that shows physical affection because he seems a little insecure? That is kinda what he strikes me as. Like he wants to hold you. He wants to show you have him. He wants to be appreciated :( my child (and bias) help me I am sobbing:))) and he wants to make sure you know he appreciates you just as much.

Like he would hold your hand, hug you a lot or place random kisses and linger in those places? An he would compliment you and tell you your work is amazing and that he is proud and he would make lots of idiotic jokes to cheer you up, no matter the mood (we stan crackhead humour in this household) and he would tell you the most random shit he likes about you. Like “I like your socks” or “you changed your bag” or “the perfume is oddly floral just like your shirt and I like it”.

And he would make random short freestyle raps (kill me now I am in too deep) about you or a random thing you are doing. And he would just linger around you when you are busy and can’t give him attention. He wants to show trust and love through little gestures and trusts you to see them as a sign of his love because you make him happy and all.

Receiving: ALSO Physical touch/words of affirmation idk

I feel like he would like physical touch back? Like he would be fine if you didn’t like it, but like since he is like anxious and (to me) seems like a little overly aware of his “flaws and deficiencies”, he would like to know he has your “hold”. Like some sort of security type of thing.

Like small gestures, your hand on him, a little kiss, a hug, a squish :))), a little grip of reassurance and a nod of “you are doing good”. I think he would be a sucker for that. And also despite him lowkey rejecting your compliments like “yeah I know I am the best”, giving it to him would boost his self-esteem a lot, as I think he has many insecurities and quite a few complexes that are hard to express for him. So that, along with your touch and words to reassure him, he would love and get the idea that you want him close too, that he’s desired enough for you to seek his love, something like “you my dude are seen and loved for who you are”.

Felix

Giving: Giving gifts/Physical touch

He is defiantly a giver. He literally seems like he is so thoughtful and cares so much. Like we all know how his fellow members said he is great at gifts. Well duh. I feel like his gifts are not always big but like a small food or drink he brings because he knows you always love it, a flower he saw in the front of a flower shop he thought was pretty. Something you said you needed (or you didn’t say) but he knows you do need it because he just pays that much attention. A pendant necklace. A ring. A small ice-cream because the day is hot so why not. A donut that had flower sprinkles because you like to post aesthetic foods and so on. You name it. They would not be obnoxious, but it would sure show how much you are occupying his thoughts.

We also always know how he is attached to the hip to the people he is close to and he loves skinship. He said he loves back hugs, hugs, kisses he wants it all:)) So he gives plenty of cuddles for sure. You can never escape the octupus arms as you go to sleep each night, so might as well set up the air conditioning in your house as it’s about to get warm but affection and love above all, right? :)))))))

Receiving: Words of affirmation/Physical touch

I think he thrives if you return his little ministrations of affection. Does it matter? A hug, a kiss, holding him, a little massage, hand size comparison, throwing yourself on top of him on the couch or the bed at the end of the day. He LOVES it. You are also competing with Chan lol but no worries, he has plenty affections for all:))

Also I think he needs reassurance and a sense that people that are closest are proud of what he is doing(wipe your tears bitch). So I think acknowledging his hard work and the fact that he pulls through despite certain mental heath problems and telling him he does an amazing job and complementing his work would definitely mean a lot to him.

But give the boy your affection, A VerY tOucHy BoI. It makes his heart swell with joy knowing you pull him close and feel so much love for him that you don’t hold back from giving. Be an octopus with him tambien😊

Seungmin

Giving: Acts of service

Another one for acts of service. Our smol good boi which somehow does not seem smol at all because he exudes maturity and rationality lmao.

He would be such a servant if he loves you. AND YOU WOULD NOT EVEN NOTICE at first. Like I feel like he does stuff in a way similar to Minho where he makes sure your life is as easy as can be. Like puts your shoes out of the way, checks the weather so you don’t leave dressed inappropriately (forces you to take the puffier jacket despite it not going with your outfit, because “do you want to catch a cold, hm?”), gives you an umbrella. Fixes a random necklace which you broke by accident because he knows it will sit there for like 3 years if it’s in your care, and you like the necklace 😊. Makes sure you eat something healthy too(would definitely bring you washed and cut-up fruits after going out to eat at mcdonalds). And he for sure does not expect you to really notice, but if you do he is getting flustered and runs out the room with a big smile😊 what a baby tm.

Receiving: Acts pf service

I feel like he would appreciate most if you also took time out of your day to ease his life too. I feel like he would feel such relief and happiness and his heart would swell with affection and appreciation if you took on one of his (no matter how insignificant) tasks. Like he would be in a rush to leave and you woke up earlier before work to make him a coffee. Or when he comes home late you already put his clothes on the bed and prepared a bath. Or getting up and asking for extra napkins if he was not given any, or simply asking how can you make his day better. I feel like being helpful and listening and paying close attention to him would be what makes him happiest.

I.N./Jeongin:

Giving: Quality time/Gifts

He gets awkward when he tries to express feelings with words and is def not the most fond of skinship. However, I think if you were close he would be an amazing listener and sit with you and you could both share and grow together so much. He would give you the feeling he is ready to listen and be with you if you need him. 

That and also I feel like when you are out and about it makes him feel good to know he can buy you things you can enjoy, and you are appreciative of them and he has that power to brighten your day and be a mature adult by buying you things, despite not really needing them sometimes.

Receiving: Quality time/Words

You know how he struggled a bit with the dancing at first and you know how the other members say that he does nothing when someone criticizes him, he just goes out of his way to fix his “mistakes”? And also in Vlive when he said he doesn’t like to watch his own fancams because all he sees are his mistakes? My baby seems to have a bit (quite some) of an imposter syndrome and since he is young and everyone teases him, although with love, I feel like it gets a bit uncomfortable and tough. He seems he just wants to keep up, and be the best at what he does but it gets tough when you have to catch up with people who have been doing the thing for many more years than you and you are struggling with your feelings and figuring things out as you grow within a demanding contract. So I think someone to listen to his worries and give him undivided attention without judgement and put in their input without being intrusive would be the most amazing thing to him. That, along with compliments and acknowledgement of his efforts, telling him that he is doing GOOD and you are proud (although he might think that you are just saying it, since he seems to only see ways he needs to improve) would be good at raising his self esteem and encourage him to continue with his hard efforts.

[lostcauses-noregrets]

I’m the Levi and Hange anon. I sent you the ask cause I’ve read your fics, and you seem to have a real gift for the world building kind of thing, like how you wrote that masterpiece of an after the war fic for Levi. It wasn’t a Levi and Hange relationship question more than it was a “huh, what would they eat, would they have to run around a lot to avoid being caught, how would Levi’s condition be in that situation” kind of thing. I’m sorry if it came of like a ship bait or something.

Hi Anon, I really appreciate your follow up message, and I apologise for doubting the sincerity of your previous ask. Like I said in reply to another Anon, I spend ages squinting at asks in my inbox trying to figure out if they're genuine or just angling to start drama, and I don't always get it right. So please accept my apology and let me see if I can answer your question in the spirit it was asked.

I still stand by my original answer that I can't imagine either Levi or Hanji just giving up and running away when they still had an ounce of strength left in them to fight, but if they had decided to stay in the forest, I don't think they would have had any trouble surviving. Hanji was endlessly resourceful and inventive after all. They'd already managed to construct a handcart to transport Levi, so I'm sure they would have been able to come up with plenty of creative solutions to help them survive. In terms of food and supplies, it's notable that when we saw Levi and Hanji in chapter 126, they were back at the camp where they had been guarding Zeke. Presumably Hanji took Levi back there because they knew there would be food and supplies there. Staying in the camp would have been too risky so they'd have had to move into a deeper part of the forest, and most likely keep moving so they wouldn't be found. Hanji could have carried supplies by loading them onto Levi's cart, but there's a limit to how much they would have been able to carry; they didn't have a horse so they'd have to push the cart themselves. If they were smart, which they were, they could have concealed supply dumps at various points scattered around the forest. Obviously there's not much Levi could do to help, he was gravely injured and very weak, but at least he had his Ackerstrength to keep him alive.

I do think that the decision to run away and hide would have taken it's toll on both Levi and Hanji. Levi would have grown increasingly frustrated at his failure to fulfil his vow and I suspect he would also have grown impatient waiting for his injuries to heal. At the same time, I think Hanji would have become despondent that they had failed in their role of commander, and betrayed the trust Erwin had placed in them. Eventually I suspect the guilt and frustration would have got the better of them and they'd have reentered the fray.

One scenario I do rather like is that once Levi had recovered sufficiently, he and Hanji could have gathered other resistance fighters and alliance members and used the forest as a base to launch guerilla attacks targeting the Yeagerists. I actually really love the idea of Levi and Hanji hiding out in the forest and leading a desperate band of partisan fighters. Hanji would plan increasingly daring attacks and Levi would hand pick groups of fighters and Titan shifters to carry them out. I can imagine them sabotaging military facilities, blowing up the port, assassinating prominent Yeagerists, stealing weapons and supplies, freeing political prisoners, and kidnapping former Survey Corps comrades in an effort to persuade them to join their cause. They spread out and move quickly, establishing bases in all the forests around Paradis. Every time the Yeagerists close in, they disappear, melting into the trees, leaving little trace, only to reappear in another forest on the far side of the island. Perhaps they fashioned camouflage from their old Survey Corps capes, determined to restore the tarnished reputation of the Wings of Freedom and turn them into a symbol of hope once again. With every daring attack the price on their heads grows higher and higher, and the Yeagerists threaten anyone caught aiding or abetting the rebels with the severest penalties. Rumours start to circulate about the rebel leaders, about Hanji's brilliance as a guerilla leader and Levi's fearsome strength and courage as a fighter. People start to whisper about Commander Hanji Zoe and Levi Ackerman, Humanity's Strongest, and for the first time in a long time, for the first time since Erwin's death, the flame of hope starts to glimmer anew.

Huh. Will you look at that? Maybe I could write a fanfic about Hanji and Levi hiding out in the forest after all!

[thebonggirll]

Chapter 31 - Attention

Chapter 30

The next two days of the training camp, Class 1-B joined Class 1-A in training with their quirk.  The students worked on improving their quirks differently with a different exercise. Y/N decided to focus on her training since that was her top priority at the moment anyway. To be honest that was good for her and what distracted her from whatever happened the day before.

But good things don't last long.

As evening arrived and the time came for the students to eat dinner, they remembered what they were explained the previous day - the Pussycats won't cook the food. Instead, they provided the students with the ingredients to make curry. While every other student were too tired to even think about cooking, somehow Tenya's encouragement brought back the spirit to work together again.

But well, cooking wasn't exactly enough to make Y/N forget about how she was an extra to Bakugou. As the girls were separating the vegetables on the table, ready to cut it into pieces, her eyes kept searching for the blond. He was standing with the others near the stove, who were working on lighting it up.

But god, it made her feel stupid. Stupid how she was still looking for him after what he said. Stupid how a smile covered her face when she saw him bickering with her classmates. Stupid how...how a simple glance from him made her blush.

She quickly averted her gaze and cleared her throat towards the girls in front of her. "Cut the potatoes, will ya?" Mina said passing her the potatoes she washed and peeled. Y/N smiled and with a sigh of relief she started doing her part of work.

Dinner wasn't as bad as she thought it would be. Well, ofcourse apart from the tiring day, when you put effort in cooking something it always tastes amazing.

"Can you eat by yourself or..." Kyoka asked concerned, "I think it's best if I feed you today."

"Honestly I keep thinking about what Momo said. It's probably better if I eat by myself. It's good for training!" Y/N chuckled, holding her shaking right hand.

"Shut the fuck up," Kyoka said and took her plate, feeding her the dinner.

Yes, training was a bit hard and using her hands excessively made it shake. On the top of that, she decided to cut the potatoes and ended up cutting a little bit of her finger. So, Kyoka decided to do what was best for her stupid best friend.

"Did you talk to him?" she asked.

"I did actually and um.." Y/N gulped down her food and said, "let's just say I didn't like his answer."

"What did he say?"

Y/N chuckled and fiddled her fingers, "He called me an extra."

Kyoka knew how much she hated the word, especially if it came from Bakugou but tried to be a bit positive for her friend, "He calls everyone an extra."

"Really? I never heard him call Kirishima an extra," she looked down with a painful smile on her face.

Kyoka sighed and fed her another spoon, "You know what, there's no use in sugarcoating the words. Look if he's calling you an extra even now, I think it's a signal for you to stop being in this one-sided friendship."

"Maybe...I'll try I guess," she said, "I think it's better to focus on my training."

"Damn right. But yeah don't be stupid and overwork yourself like you did today. I get that it's...not easy but distracting yourself from the problem only means you're stalling from facing it. Eventually you have to deal with it."

"God, can you for once try to be fake and like cheer me up?"

"No," Kyoka smiled, "Besides, you're both the problem here. He's being a dick and you think it's okay to be friends even when he doesn't acknowledge it. Take your time but fucking get to it."

The third day of training, Y/N decided to take Kyoka's advice.

Well, only a little bit. She ignored Bakugou instead of slowly retreating herself from the friendship. She needed time to deal with it and for now, training was mostly important to her.

And Bakugou noticed it too. She was looking at him lesser than usual. Sure, it made him feel relieved but at the same time, if he was being honest, he wanted her to look.

He wanted her attention.

Something that he loathes when it came from his other classmates if it's excessive. Bakugou knew she tried to talk to him like the way she usually did, but the thing is, when he's aware of her feelings it's hard to ignore. And he didn't know what to do about this information. Talking to Kirishima meant endless teasing, and he didn't want to be a part of it. But her feelings..he didn't know how to handle it. The only possible solution was to pretend like nothing happened and go back to how things were earlier.

He was more observant now when it came to her. He could feel her bitter mood just by looking and whether he liked it or not, in the end he knew he just can't deny this thing they had - call it friendship or study buddies. But when he thought about it, somehow he didn't like to imagine Y/N stopping it. He didn't want her to treat her like the others. He didn't want to let go of how he can affect her.

He just needed some time to get over this bullshit, right? It would go away after a few months.

As dinner time arrived, the students got ready to prepare their meal again.

Y/N went towards the table, getting ready to do her part of work when she noticed Bakugou standing in her place. She quietly stood staring at him, wondering if she should ask him to move after ignoring his presence the whole day. But to be honest, she didn't even know if he even noticed her the whole day in the first place.

Deciding that her feelings shouldn't be in the way of her work, she approached him. "Uh hey, that's kind of my job."

Bakugou who was cutting potatoes like a pro, stopped for a moment and said, "You are needed elsewhere. Start up the fire or something, don't disturb me. You are bad at this anyway."

Y/N noticed the perfectly sliced potatoes and turned to go to Momo, for instructions. Bakugou looked at her retreating figure and then his eyes went towards her hand, on the little band-aid on her finger. Surely she has handled worse than this.

But...it annoyed him to watch her struggle the day before. She was bad at this and he in no way was going to allow her to ruin the food....

....or her hands. Whatever.

Y/N got to cook the food instead. She cooked a curry with all the ingredients prepared by the others.

"We've filled our bellies and clean the dishes! It's time for test of courage!" Pixie Bob said as Aizawa took the remedial students to study while the others stayed behind to play the mini-game.

Class B will start as scarers and be in their positions while Class A will leave in pairs and walk around the forest and collect tags with their names in end of the routes. The only rule was that Class B wasn't allowed to make any physical contact, but they can use their quirks to scare the students.

"Pairs, huh?" Y/N muttered as her eyes went towards Bakugou, and released a tiny gasp. He was looking at her, but she couldn't understand why. Cause he was surely looking at her like he usually did but this time she noticed something more in his eyes. She couldn't pinpoint it. And before she began to overthink it, she decided to look away, concentrating on the instructions.

A blush covered her face as she thought of it. It would be a lie if she said she didn't imagine this before. A girl and a guy together in a scary house? It gave both of them a sense of closeness and comfort. She imagined herself, holding onto Bakugou's arm during the game, while he kept his usual demeanor. And then someone scares them, she hugs him close...

...and then Bakugou slaps her to Mars. Cause let's be real, Bakugou already found her presence annoying. It always feels better in imagination, doesn't it?

The pairs were decided randomly by drawing papers including their names and Y/N ended up with someone she drifted away from since the course began.

"How's it going fanboy?" she asked approaching her partner.

"It has been a while Y/N," Midoriya said, smiling.

Chapter 32

SEASON - III

Ignite

MASTERLIST

Tags:  @honeylemondragonemperor​ @mikithekiki​ @kkikiss

[lemonpie321]

Content warnings: restraining, poisoning, stabbing.

Whumptober day 2: “Pick Who Dies”

Nagumo is the first to wake up. His head hurts, and he feels as if his eyelids are made of lead. He wants nothing but to keep sleeping, but the hard and cold surface under his body startles him, and he opens his eyes groggily. A white room welcomes him, almost like a hospital with no furniture at all. Nothing more than him and someone else lying still on the floor. As soon as Nagumo sees the familiar boy he rushes to his side, shaking him with intensity, shouting. "Aphrodi, are you okay!? Come on, get up, we're in a weird place!"

So, Terumi is the second to wake up. Even dizzier than Nagumo because of the brute movement, he feels almost like throwing up, his head like it's about to explode. Still, he weakly grabs Nagumo's wrist, and sits up in a slow-motion taking in his surroundings. "I'm alright. Where are we?" Suzuno is the last to wake up. He opens his eyes with a whine, and then, two things are quick to put him on alert: the first one is the mechanical sound similar of that of a big sliding door opening, and the second one is the realization that his limbs and neck are tied up on a mattress and he's unable to move. Nagumo’s gasps and a strangled sound escapes from Terumi’s throat, the now withdrew door making Suzuno visible, but leaving a glass wall in between. Nagumo runs, always the impulsive type, and starts punching it, not even leaving a scratch. So reinforced glass it is, Suzuno thinks, unable to move his head but guessing by the sounds. Then, a voice echoes in the room. “I guess you are wondering the reason for your current situation. Well, you could say it’s for revenge but the truth is, I just want to see you suffer.” Terumi goes pale. Nagumo grimaces. “And who the fuck are you!? If you think we’re going to do whatever shit you want us to, then-” “Stop.” Nagumo turns to Terumi with a questioning look and is a bit struck by his face, wide eyes and pursed lips. A sickening laugh didn’t make itself wait. “I see you already recognized me, my dear Aphrodi. You were so good to me before, what happened to you?” He mocks. Nagumo could be a bit slow sometimes, but he immediately realizes who that person is. Suzuno can barely hear them, much less make out their words, and even being as stoic as he is he starts to become anxious, bile rising to his throat. Nagumo snarls and is about to shout something, but gets interrupted again. “I think presentations are done for now. It’s time to start the fun part.” After some fumbling, a high pitched sound resonates in Suzuno’s room. “There. Your little friend should be able to hear us now. I’ll give you an explanation of what’s going to happen.” Suzuno lets out a pained groan, writhing. Terumi immediately senses that something is very wrong. “These are the rules: I’ve poisoned the boy with the white hair. I also have the antidote, so no need to worry, I'll part ways with it if you do a simple thing.” Then, a small scuttle in the ceiling opens with a whir, letting a carving knife fall cluttering on the marble floor. It leaves both rooms in a deafening silence. Understanding slowly creeps into all of their faces, showing itself in the form of horror, fear, and denial. For a couple of seconds, no one dares to say even a word or to move the slightest bit. “Aphrodi and Nagumo, one of you has to stab the other. Do it well, all the way in. I’ve been kind enough to choose only a twenty-centimeter long knife, so I won’t tolerate any kind of half-done job. Stabbing yourselves won’t satisfy me either. If you break the rules, you have to do it again. You have approximately twenty minutes before the damage is irreversible, and then five until Suzuno dies. So let us start the game.” Nagumo’s face distorts in a mixture of fear, worry, and pure rage. Suzuno starts wriggling and thrashing even more against the leather restraints, he can’t leave the two people he loves the most in such a hideous situation. He has to endure the pain, to fight Kageyama, to… Terumi’s expression was unreadable, his gaze is fixated at the knife. “What the fuck are you saying!? If you don’t want me to rip your fucking head off come here right now and give me that damn antidote!!” No matter how much he screams, kicks and punches, it looks like nothing but a useless tantrum. He screams Suzuno’s name, Suzuno whispers Nagumo’s, eyes closed, trying to focus. Terumi finally stands, none of the others noticing him. He knows very well what he has to do, and he won’t hesitate. He walks to the knife and silently lifts it, admiring it’s polished, shiny surface reflecting the white lights of the room. His ears are ringing, he can’t notice Suzuno’s whimpers, nor Nagumo’s shouting when it stops. When Terumi looks at him, his lips are slightly parted in surprise, a shocked expression coating his face. His eyes are quickly dancing between Terumi and the knife on his left hand. Seeing this, he starts approaching him with that smooth, graceful pace he always holds. Nagumo takes a few steps back, not knowing what to do. Terumi would never hurt him, right? He will not betray him, right? Not even when Suzuno’s life is on the line, he would be sensible enough to find a better solution than Nagumo’s, like he always did… right? “A-Aphrodi? What are you doing?” He sputters in an uncharacteristically faint voice. This does not make Terumi stop, and they continue like this until Nagumo’s back hits the wall. He’s holding his breath when Terumi invades his personal space, smiling softly to him, not saying a word. And then, he takes Nagumo’s hand and places the knife gently on his palm, intentions implicit. “...huh?” Nagumo just can’t process what is happening. No, that’s not right, he can process it, but he can’t accept it. He can’t accept what Terumi wants him to do. “Come on, Nagumo. You know it won’t work if I do it to myself.” He says warmly, fastening Nagumo’s grip on the handle. Now that he’s closer, Nagumo can see the sorrow on his eyes. “N-no. No, no, no, I-I can’t do that to you, I…” He tries to let go of the knife like it’s burning him, but Terumi doesn’t let him. “Please, you have to do it for Suzuno. If you do this, there’s a chance I might survive, but if we leave him like that, there will be nothing we can do” There’s something in the fact that the boy he loves is begging for him to stab him that threw Nagumo off the edge. He sobbed, a few tears running down his cheeks and falling on top of Terumi’s hands. He absentmindedly shakes his head in denial, imploring with just a look for him to not force him to do that. Anything but that. Terumi seems on the verge of crying too, but manages to hold back, wrapping Nagumo in an embrace as comfortably as possible. “Shush, it’s okay… It will be just a second, I promise. And then we can all go outside, together. Remember who we are doing this for.” Knowing he has no option, Nagumo tightens his hold on the knife, not even daring to look into Terumi’s eyes. “That’s it. Don’t think about it, just do it quickly, like you were pulling off a band-aid.” With a sob, Nagumo finally plunges the knife into Terumi’s gut with a quick and merciful thrust. He tries to suppress the urge to throw up when he feels the knife digging all the way in cutting through his organs, when he hears the slick sound of the blood along with the blonde’s cry, and something warm starts seeping through Terumi’s fingers and trickling onto his hands. The sound Nagumo lets out is like one of a terrified kid, a wail that expresses nothing but despair, his hands still holding the object so tightly his fingers go numb. Even then, Terumi manages to put on a broken smile, and muster with weakened voice, grazing Nagumo’s cheek with his fingers: “It’s okay, i-it’s not your fault. It’s alright now.” That does not make Nagumo feel better. It's not fair, that even when Terumi was going through so much pain and fear, he has to be the one doing the comforting. Why is he always so selfless? Why does he love to self-sacrifice for them so much? His thoughts are interrupted by a new clatter on the floor, this time of a plastic box. He knows that no matter how much he wants to take Terumi to a hospital as soon as possible, he has another work to do. He lowers him slightly so he lies in the wall, and quickly opens the box, and taking the small syringe, then looks at the glass panel. It opens, just like the other door. He rushes to Suzuno’s side, looking at his sickly-looking face, and injecting without wasting a second, and unties him. He finds out that he’s also incapable of looking Suzuno in the eyes. “W-we have to take Terumi to a hospital, now. You di-didn’t take out the knife, good. That way it’s less possible that he bleeds o-out.” Nagumo doesn't say that the actual reason he did not take it out was that he was too distracted by his thoughts. He didn't think he would ever be able to forgive himself, even if it was Terumi who pressured him to do it. Suzuno knows it and procures to stay quiet, struggling too much to deal with his own emotions to manage to comfort Nagumo. Nagumo carries Terumi in the most careful way he had ever done anything, and they leave the building without another word.

[jaxl-road]

The League of Extraordinary Rockstars, ch.6

Summary: LA is a hub for music and mutants, making it the perfect place for Motley Crue, Guns N’ Roses, and countless other mutant musicians to call home. But it’s not all easy, especially when it comes to finding a decent place to live. So what better solution than moving in together in the mansion of an immortal? Love, drama, and super powers. If nothing else, it’ll be interesting.

Chapter Warnings: Language, genderswap!Steven

AN: This is a collaboration between myself and @the–blackdahlia​! It combines elements from her fic “It’s So Easy (And Other Lies)” (specifically her genderswapped!Steven) and my super powered GnR series. It is completely AU and ignores timelines like Woah, but hopefully you’ll have as much fun reading it as we’re having writing it! Let us know what you think!

~~~~~~~~~~

Stevie shut the door and was surprised to find Duff’s lips on hers within seconds of the latch clicking. She let him kiss her for a moment before she ducked to the side and sat on the edge of her bed.

“I meant actually talk,” She laughed.

“Oh, that wasn’t just an excuse?” Duff’s cheeks were red, “Oops.”

Shaking her head fondly, Stevie chuckled and patted the mattress beside her, “It’s okay.” She waited until he was sitting beside her to continue, wringing her hands nervously. She was well aware that there were a million ways this conversation could go wrong, including Duff storming out angrily and never speaking to her again.

“So, I wanted to talk because…” She fumbled to find the right words, “I really like you,” she finally blurted out.

“I… like you too?” Duff responded slowly, “Not that I don’t like hearing it, but didn’t we kind of have this conversation last night?”

“No, yeah, we did,” Stevie cursed herself. Why was she so bad at this? “I just wanted to start with that because… something happened earlier today.” Duff opened his mouth to respond, his face painted with concern, but Stevie cut him off, deciding to just rip the band-aid off, “I almost kissed Izzy. Or, we almost kissed each other. I wanted to kiss him, because I have a crush on him, and I thought it would go away after we got together but it’s not.”

For a moment, they stared at each other in silence, Duff’s face blank before quietly responding, “...Oh.”

"I'm sorry, and you'll probably hate me, but I was talking to Kelly earlier-"

"That's never a good idea."

"-and, he suggested maybe we could try inviting Izzy in…"

Duff blinked in surprise, “Invite him… huh,” he hummed in consideration, “Well, first of all, I definitely don’t hate you,” he smiled shyly, and Stevie couldn’t help but sigh in relief.

“Good,” She laced their fingers together, “because I don’t want to lose you. That’s the whole problem. I like both of you, and can’t bring myself to choose one of you over the other, y’know? But…” she frowned, looking up at him, “would you be okay with something like that? I don’t want you to feel like you have to do something if it makes you uncomfortable.”

“I just… I’ve never been in a relationship like that," Duff admitted.

“Me neither,” Stevie answered, “But, I mean, if Izzy is okay with it, then we can figure it out together, right?”

Duff let out a huff of laughter, “That’s true. And I mean, Izzy is pretty great…” he trailed off, tugging on the dark strand of hair by his neck absently.

Stevie blinked in surprise, “Wait, really?”

“Well, yeah, I… I mean he’s, y’know…”

Stevie felt her jaw drop as she watched a blush spread across Duff’s cheeks as he stuttered. “Oh my God," she exclaimed, "you have a crush on him too??”

“What? No!” But Duff was still blushing, “It’s not a- I mean it’s Izzy, and he’s so-... I haven’t thought about it before!” He shoved her shoulder lightly as she burst out laughing, “Oh shut up!”

"Izzy and Duff sitting in a tree," Stevie sang.

"Oh shut up, you like him too!" Duff started tickling her sides, making her laugh.

"Mercy! I give!" Stevie tried to pull away, but Duff pulled her back, tickling more. Soon they were both out of breath, collapsing to lay next to each other on the bed. After a few minutes, Stevie chuckled, “Man, I envisioned this conversation going a lot worse.”

“Honestly me too,” Duff admitted, “You said you wanted to talk and then you said you liked me and I kept waiting for you to say ‘but just as a friend’.”

They both laughed, “No, I like you just a bit more than that,” Stevie replied, leaning over to give him a quick kiss on the lips. Flopping back onto the bed, she hummed in thought, “So… how do we do this then?”

Duff hesitated before answering, “Do you mind if we wait a bit before talking to Izzy? Or at least sleep on it?” he asked, “I really am down to try this, but I’m still wrapping my head around being with you. And I wasn’t lying when I said I hadn’t really thought about Izzy, y’know, that way before.”

Stevie giggled softly as a faint flush spread across his face again, “You suuuure about that?” she teased, poking his cheek.

Lightly slapping her hand away, Duff pouted, “I don’t- it’s complicated!” He shoved a pillow over Stevie’s face when she started laughing again. “Look all I’m saying is, could we maybe take a day or two to think more about it before we figure out how to bring it up to him?”

In truth, Stevie was impatient. If she had her way, she’d have them knocking on Izzy’s door right now. She’d spent so long wanting both of them, and now it felt like they were so close. Like she had a solution to everything she wanted right at her fingertips. She didn’t want to wait.

But she understood where Duff was coming from, and hey, she’d managed this long, so what was a few more days? She still had one of her boys, and that was already more than she thought she’d get.

“Of course,” she nodded, “that’s totally fine.”

"Good. Now, are we gonna ‘talk’?" Duff wiggled his eyebrows.

"Oh my god, you're horrible," she laughed, lacing her fingers with his, "But the best kind of horrible."

~~~~~~~~~~~

Izzy sighed as he watched the sky outside his window slowly lighten as morning came. He had slept fitfully, and he knew he should grab some breakfast soon given that he had skipped dinner the night before, but he couldn’t seem to make himself get up and face the day. He was well aware that he was moping, but who could blame him? Rolling over to face the wall, he cursed himself for letting himself get his hopes up.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t known Duff was also crushing on the drummer, so how did he really think this would end? Between the two of them, Izzy didn’t stand a chance. Duff, who was so tall, and bright, and handsome. Who smiled and laughed nearly as much as Stevie, and literally made the sun shine for her.

"Why would she even like me?" Izzy mumbled to himself. As he laid there, his mind continued to dwell on the tall drink that had won her heart. That perfect smile, those long legs, the way he would belly laugh when he told those really lame jokes...

….Wait.

“Why do I have a type?” Izzy groaned. “Why does all this shit happen to me?” He pulled his pillow over his face. It wasn’t fair. Pining after one friend was bad enough, he wasn’t about to brood over two. Nope. Not doing it.

Suddenly, a loud BANG BANG BANG sounded against his door, startling him so bad he fell through his bed, grunting as he landed on his back and blinked up at the bottom of his bed frame.

“WAKE THE FUCK UP, STADLIN!” Axl’s voice boomed. How did he manage to be so loud without using his powers? “You’ve had three days off, you lazy fucks, time to get back to work!”

Izzy groaned, listening to Axl’s voice echo through the house as he continued his mission of rousing the members of Guns N’ Roses.

"Holy fuck!" Axl screeched as he backed out of Slash's room. Izzy raised an eyebrow as he walked through his door.

"What's wrong? See slash naked?" Izzy laughed.

"Who said he could have fucking snakes?" Axl snapped.

"That's called a penis, Bill." Izzy teased. Axl glared the guitarist down.

"Fuck you, Jeff," Axl huffed as he walked off. Heading downstairs, he made his way to Duff’s room, but frowned when he saw the door open and no one inside. He shrugged it off, figuring he would track the weather witch down later. Grinning, he placed himself in front of Stevie’s door.

“UP AND AT ‘EM, SUNSHINE!” He yelled, raising his foot to kick the door loudly.

However, he miscalculated the strength of the old door, and instead of simply banging loudly as he had intended, the kick sent the door bursting open. He stumbled forward in surprise, flailing to regain his balance. Cursing quietly, he braced himself to be chewed out by the drummer.

Looking up though, he found himself staring down not just his drummer, but his bassist too. Duff and Stevie had both shot up in bed at the sound of the door slamming open, their hair a tangled mess of blonde and a very notable lack of clothing on either of them.

For a few seconds, the three merely blinked at each other. The Axl broke into a slow, sly grin.

“Oh. My. God.”

Just like that, Duff and Stevie were broken from their stupor, both scrambling to pull the sheets over them, Stevie holding a pillow in front of her chest as she shrieked, “What the FUCK, Axl?” her eyes wide and face bright red.

Axl covered his mouth, trying to stifle his laughter, "I, uh, well, you see…"

"What's going oh-oh holy shit!" Slash stood there. "About fucking time!"

"Get out!" Stevie shrieked, but that just sent more people running to her room. Duff flopped onto his back, burying his face in his hands as their housemates crowded around their doorway.

Nikki and Tommy cheered when they peeked their heads in, “Yeah, dude, get it!” Vince wolf whistled, Baz yelled something about getting a camera, while Kelly and Mick stood in the hallway shaking their heads.

“Remind me why I agreed to this living situation?” Kelly sighed.

“Beats me. I always knew you were whacked in the head,” Mick mumbled. He then stepped forward, calling out, “Hey, like, half of you owe me fucking money now!” He was met with a chorus of groans as Axl, Baz, Nikki, and Tommy, reluctantly handed over crumpled dollar bills.

“You were betting on us??” Duff’s indignant voice cried out.

Kelly snorted. He saw a dark shape out of the corner of his eye and when he turned he found Izzy standing beside him, a carefully neutral look on his face.

"Hey Izzy," Stevie waved at him, but Duff saw her light dim when he didn't even acknowledge her.

"Hey grumpy gus," Baz laughed.

“Of course I’m grumpy, I got woken up by fucking Axl pounding on my door,” he grumbled, trying to cover for his sour mood.

“Hey, we all got woken up by Axl,” Slash countered.

“He literally kicked my door in!” Stevie chimed in.

“He woke me up nicely,” Sebastian smirked, resting his chin on the top of Axl’s head and winking as the rest of the group groaned and gagged.

“Yeah, well, in case you all forgot,” the red head huffed, “we’re supposed to be in a fucking band. I gave you all three days off, time to get the fuck back to work.”

"Can I at least put clothes on?" Stevie asked.

"Does she have to?" Tommy pouted. Duff glared at him.

"Guys, get out so Stevie can change," Kelly started pushing them out but stayed in the room. "Man, that was tough."

"Everyone means you too, Kelly," Stevie growled.

“Aw come on, it’s not like it’s anything I haven’t seen before.” His teasing smirk dropped when a loud roll of thunder sounded above them and he sighed dramatically, “Fine, fine.”

When the door finally closed behind him, Stevie moved the pillow from her chest to her face and groaned loudly into it. Duff pat her back sympathetically, “All things considered, I think that could have gone a lot worse.”

"Izzy looked pissed," Stevie sighed, "And Axl needs to learn to knock!" Duff noticed that Stevie's light was dim, like when she was sad. He pulled her close to him.

“Hey, maybe he really was just mad at Axl,” Duff wasn’t sure he himself believed that, but it certainly wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility, “Plus, he always looks at least a little pissed,” he teased.

"Tommy says he needs to get laid," Stevie giggled. There was a bang at the door.

"Hurry the fuck up or so help me…" Axl growled. Stevie sighed.

"Let's go," she told Duff. The both got dressed, Duff opting to just throw on his clothes from the day before which were laying on the ground. On their way out, Duff grabbed his bass from his room before they made their way over to the rest of the band.

On the other side of the house, between the living room and the kitchen, was a room that they were pretty sure was meant to be a dining room. But they had piled the household's various instruments, amps, and equipment into the room to turn it into a makeshift practice space. It was here that Duff and Stevie found Izzy, Axl, and Slash waiting for them.

"About time," Slash laughed, "Too busy working out that mattress?"

"Oh shut up," Stevie rolled her eyes and went to her drums. "I hope you're not out of tune, babies." She ran her fingers on the drums.

"Bet you want her to touch you like that," Slash elbowed Duff.

"Don't we have anything better to do, like fucking practicing our music?" Izzy snapped.

Stevie, Duff, and Slash all whipped their heads around to look at him, eyes wide at the rhythm guitarist’s outburst. Duff bit his lip, seeming conflicted, and Stevie looked like she wanted to cry, but before any of them could say anything, Axl darted over, throwing an arm around Izzy’s shoulders.

“Thank you! At least someone here is committed to the dream,” he ruffled Izzy’s hair, his hand slapped away almost immediately, and as Izzy stared down at his guitar, Axl sent a warning glance at the other three. “Well? Let’s get a fucking move on.”

Izzy risked a glance up at Stevie when Slash and Duff went to their places, and he felt his heart break. She looked so sad, and while she normally had a bright aura to her, today it was dim.

Fuck, what did he do?

The guilt ate at him, but he didn’t get too much chance to dwell on it. Axl was quick to start barking out orders, warming up his voice while the others checked their tuning, and anytime Izzy felt himself start to fall back into his dark thoughts, the red head would suddenly be there antagonizing him, poking his side and demanding that he replay the chorus of some song or accusing him of being off rhythm or clapping at him to play faster. The self deprecating thoughts couldn’t stand up to Axl’s snapping voice.

It wasn’t long before all of them finally were able to get lost in the music. They fine-tuned the songs they wanted to record next time they snagged some studio time, ran through some old favorites, and talked about a few melodies they hoped to expand on. Still, when they all agreed to call it a day, all it took was a glance at the two blondes for Izzy to feel his heart sink again. Placing his guitar on his stand, he didn’t even bother saying anything as he exited the room.

“Izzy-” Stevie’s voice called after him, but he ignored it, only walking faster. As he passed through the kitchen, he spared a moment to snag a bottle of whiskey off the counter before continuing up the stairs. As he ascended, he heard footsteps following after him.

“Iz.”

He walked faster, taking the stairs two at a time.

“Izzy, hang on!”

As he slipped through the door into his room, he hoped that maybe he would be left alone. He just wanted to drink, and wallow, and maybe break something.

But there was no hesitation in the fist that banged on the door, “Let me in, Stradlin.” Axl’s voice wasn’t loud, but it was firm.

“Go the fuck away,” he growled back.

The knocking continued. Izzy’s door had been locked since the day he moved in. “I swear to God if you don’t open up this fucking door I’m going to kick it in, I’ve already done it once today, I’d fucking love to be two for two.”

Izzy pressed his fists against his eyes, his teeth grinding in frustration. Axl would do it, he knew he would. Glaring heatedly, he stormed over and threw the door open, “What, Axl? What the fuck do you want?”

“I want to make sure my best friend is okay,” Axl bit back.

“I’m fine,” Izzy ground out in response, “Is that all?” He moved to close the door, but Axl threw his arm against it, forcing it back open.

“Come on, don’t fucking lie to me.” For a moment Axl looked like he was going to snap out something else, but then he paused. Sighing gently, his face softened, “Look... I’m sorry. About Stevie,” Izzy practically flinched at the name, but Axl continued, “I just… I’m here for you, okay? You don’t have to deal with it by yourself. I get it, man. I understand-”

“How the fuck could you possibly understand how I feel?” Izzy suddenly snapped, throwing his arms out as the words spilled out of him like a broken dam, “You have no idea what it’s like! You have Baz! You have the person you love, and you’re together and happy and… fuck!” He slammed his hand against the wall in frustration.

Axl had taken a step back during the outburst, staring up at Izzy with wide eyes. There was a moment of silence as they stared at each other. Then Axl’s eyes narrowed.

“You think I don’t know what it’s like?” His voice was a low hiss, not loud or high pitched, but Izzy could still feel the power in it- could feel an ominous vibration in his sternum as the words hit him.

The singer took a step forward, and this time it was Izzy who backed away as he continued, “You honestly think I don’t know what it feels like? To love someone who doesn’t love you back- who will never love you back? You think I don’t understand feeling like the person you love more than anything is so close but still out of reach? That I've never had to watch them love someone else while I pieced myself back together by myself? Are you really that fucking blind?!” His final words were emphasized with a harsh shove, sending Izzy stumbling back a few steps.

Izzy blinked, speechless, trying to wrap his head around what was happening. Axl’s eyes looked glassy and wet even as he snarled quietly, “Fuck you, Jeff.”

Pivoting on his heel, Axl stomped out, slamming the door shut behind him. Izzy listened to the faint sounds of footsteps retreating downstairs before he sat heavily on his bed. For a few minutes he could only stare blankly at the floor.

Then he grabbed the whiskey bottle and took a long, long drink.

[itsclydebitches]

RWBY Recaps: “Out in the Open”

Last night, out of morbid curiosity and perhaps a smidgen of self-hatred, I asked myself, “Huh. I wonder how long my RWBY Recaps are?” Not the whole project, just this season’s writings. So in the fifteen minutes between being a functioning member of society and falling into bed, I copied all my recaps from Volume Seven, chucked them into a Word document, removed the images, fixed wonky spacing, and ended up with:

Over 40,000 words. I have, arguably, written the equivalent of a middle school grade book. If middle schoolers were interested in reading salt about a web series. …Which now that I think about it, they probably are. The point though is that there’s a lot here and some of you have read every single word of it.  That’s seriously impressive and I want you to all have virtual cookies. Especially when I watch “Out in the Open” and realize how absolutely off the rails this show has gone and I consider it a minor miracle that any of us are still sticking with it.

First off, let me lay out the things I really liked about this episode:

Setting the trap for Watts at Amity Arena. Provided that Ironwood really can beat him solo (does his skill deserve that amount of self-confidence? Especially after recognizing that he should craft a team of three to go against Tyrian?), that was just an all around smart move on his part. Watts now has enough control over the technology of Mantle and Atlas that he would have come across the Amity project eventually, so best to just spill the beans on his own terms. The terms being claiming it’s complete when really that’s just a lie in order to lure Watts out into the open. And uh, yeah... take note that this was another lie. If viewers honestly believe that leaders must never ever lie/keep anything from their people simply because it’s morally wrong, then start calling out Ironwood for this now. Because we don’t get to praise some lies when they work out well (like now) and others when they don’t (like with Ozpin).

Setting up the fight at the Arena itself with Watts having control over the dust there, essentially turning the whole area into one massive weapon. If Rooster Teeth makes use of even half the possibilities here, that should make for an absolutely epic fight.

Watts’ steampunk-esque, dramatic as fuck gun. That weapon is a thing of beauty.

Yeah, basically if it has Watts in it I enjoyed myself. Everything else? Not so much.

We open on Mantle positively overrun with grimm. No surprise there. We’re once again shown though how absolutely devastating grimm remain as an enemy. Ironwood’s soldiers are able to kill the lesser grimm with their guns, but in seconds one is taken out. The older, mammoth-like grimm take at least two to three highly skilled huntsmen to defeat and, as we saw with Blake, Yang, and Elm, they’re going to be really out of breath when they’re done with just one of them. Really then, with a team of only fifteen or so, how are they going to manage all of this:

Obviously they do manage and I can’t truly fault Rooster Teeth for giving us a solution that doesn’t quite align with the problem. It’s common enough in any story to set big stakes and then have the heroes, somewhat miraculously, come out on top. Rather, this is only an issue as it pertains to the conflicts Rooster Teeth themselves have introduced, namely what telling people about Salem will do to the rest of the world as it pertains to grimm attacks. I’ll get to the details of Ironwood’s announcement in just a moment (oh boy...), but we’re seeing that same sort of ~everything is magically okay, just hand wave away the issue~ writing here. It’s one thing to watch the group struggle and then have all those grimm conveniently defeated off screen, to have the audience fill in those magical blanks during a single battle. It’s something else entirely though to do that for one of the major problems you’ve set up for a season. Ironwood is right to worry about the grimm because everything we’ve been shown tells us that an announcement of this nature would decimate the world. Mantle gets that many grimm, of that age and power, because their heat has been off for half an hour? But telling them about a woman hell-bent on their destruction doesn’t change the situation in the slightest? Everyone just conveniently cheers in solidarity rather than experiencing a base function they have no control over: fear? If RWBY adhered to its own logic that announcement should have been Mantle’s ruin. It would have been another Fall of Beacon. Because all the “We can beat her!” encouragement isn’t going to override the basic terror that comes with learning that a) someone is actively trying to kill you and b) at least two of that person’s minions are currently in your city, doing a damn good job of it. To say nothing of the added anger at learning that Ironwood was keeping this from them, that this is why he was taking resources, that he still hasn’t managed to fix things, etc. The only reason this announcement didn’t lead to Mantle’s destruction is because, again, RWBY prioritizes one very convenient emotion over all the others. Mantle miraculously comes together, putting aside all their previous fury and only feeling hope in the face of even worse news, conveniently keeping more grimm from arriving. That’s... not how an angry mob works. And as I’ve pointed out numerous times before, RWBY is no longer a fairy tale unconcerned with realism. This isn’t, as I’ve seen others insist, a wonderful moment of hopepunk. This is the writing turning repercussions on and off at their will.

But I’m getting way ahead of myself. Before all this we see Nora taking out some sort of saber-toothed cat grimm, then looking put out at the horde rushing towards her. Which for me just re-emphasizes how huntsmen are the only ones capable of handling this kind of threat. They’re almost bored at times, whereas the normal fighters are straight up dying. All of which should be a problem because there’s like twenty fully trained huntsmen in Atlas right now and we had a whole arc about how Lionheart managed to wipe out a ton elsewhere. How will the world handle these kinds of grimm attacks when the one group of people capable of beating them are so few and far between? Again, it’s not a question that is answered or shown to have any consequences attached to the implied answer of, “They can’t.” Because all those hundreds of grimm are just taken care of off screen. Somehow, someway. 

During all this we get a nice moment where Weiss saves Marrow with her knight. Love new team-ups like that! Too bad Blake and Yang are still attached at the hip. Will they ever be allowed to be girlfriends while also maintaining other relationships? Who knows.

We also see Nora dealing with the above mentioned angry mob and the only reason she’s not put into the position of defending herself against civilians is because Ironwood and Robyn conveniently pop up on the screen to make their announcement. 

Okay... Here we go. 

I’m going to be honest with you readers. I don’t even know how to write about all this. It’s just a colossal mess and my thoughts are so scattered I haven’t even figured out how to pull them together yet, let alone start expressing them to an audience. So I apologize that this recap is a mess all its own. However, I can at least start with this.

Ironwood didn’t tell them about Salem’s immortality.

That’s the crux of EVERYTHING here. I could point out how astoundingly stupid it is to tell the people this while they are currently being attacked by grimm and how, again, the only reason why that didn’t result in his people’s massacre is because the writing is straight up inconsistent about when grimm are a threat. I could spend this whole recap criticizing this moment---another moment---where we see Ruby smiling over the horrible situation she’s helped create, the story painting her as a perfect hero. I could also talk in-depth about how flawed Ironwood’s logic is. Salem inciting hatred has never and will never be the problem. What, does he think that with a common enemy the racists will suddenly open their doors to the faunus? Or that the bandit attacks will stop? That people like Jacques will suddenly start loving everyone who can’t give them more money? I’ve gotten a lot of asks over the last year regarding real life issues, asking me how we solve these horrendous problems. My answer is always the same: there is no simple solution. There is no one, convenient thing that we can implement and then bam, racism, sexism, ableism, etc. is solved forever and always. It takes generations of slow, methodical, one-step-forward-two-steps-back work in order to enact change, the precise sort of work that Ozpin was doing in the form of schooling and advocating for tolerance across Remanant. Ironwood, meanwhile, has given the people that band-aid solution. Salem is the reason we’re divided. Salem is the reason why we’re in danger. Don’t think about our own prejudices or the separate threat of the grimm. Just come together against her and it’ll all be fine, I swear. 

Which may have been a decent way of getting people to defeat Salem---we’ll tackle the other issues later---if Salem could be defeated.

Everyone realizes this is just a massive version of what Ozpin did, right? Please tell me people get that. Ozpin had a small group of people, told them about Salem, they logically worked under the assumption that they could beat her, and when her immortality was revealed he was condemned for that supposed manipulation. You sent us to fight a war we couldn’t win. How dare you?

Now Ironwood has done the same thing, but dramatically increased the number of people involved. They find out about Salem, they’re encouraged via no corrections to believe that she’s beatable, and thus this city is preparing for a war that many would view as unwinnable if they had all the information. Every one of our leaders has manipulated in this manner now. Ozpin did it, Ruby perpetuated it, and now here Ironwood is doing it again. Except that, again, given the more specific context of each scenario... I still think Ozpin was the most justified. He never wanted the group involved. Rather, they insisted they be a part of things. The group at least are all made up of skilled fighters, not everyday civilians. Telling willing huntsmen in training that they need to “take care of” Salem with the hope that they’ll continue the work of keeping her at bay is not the same thing as letting Ironwood take resources from Mantle for a doomed plan, or Ironwood telling a city of mostly defenseless people that it’s their responsibility to help him deal with this threat. This is who he is calling to action: 

Not skilled volunteers, but terrified people unwittingly drawn into the situation, and the only reason why their terror hasn’t taken over is because they’re allowed to function under the assumption that Salem can be killed. I’m all for stories where the “useless,” non-combat characters help turn the tide (it’s one of the reasons why I love Pacific Rim so much), but that scenario only works when there’s a clear end in sight; when sacrificing this peace is worth it because banding everyone together will actually lead to victory. But that’s not the case here. All Ironwood has done is set up a situation where the people, like that council member last volume, are going to start asking, “Do you think he can win against Salem? He has to. He’s our only hope. So why hasn’t he beaten her yet? Why aren’t you doing something, Ironwood?” It’s going to be this moment right here on a massive scale. 

A mob of angry people closing in on an innocent, demanding to know why Ironwood isn’t fixing a problem. What the hell is Ironwood going to do now that he’s set up an expectation he can’t fulfill? More importantly, why would he do that in the first place? I really hate how stupid RWBY has made its characters, shooting themselves in the foot in the name of “Well, secret keeping is bad.” It’s not a setup I agree with, but I could at least stomach it if everyone was on the same page regarding where they place blame. However, once again we see how Ozpin is the only one who got heat for these choices.

Everyone remember Yang’s fury over, “How could you not tell us this?” That wasn’t so long ago, folks. So why isn’t she gunning for Ironwood the second he makes his announcement? How could you tell Mantle about Salem but not that she’s immortal, the exact thing Ozpin did to us and we screamed at/physically assaulted him for? Or, more realistically considering that Yang doesn’t seem to know Ironwood has been informed about the immortality yet, why isn’t she gunning for her sister? How could you put Ironwood in the position where he does to an entire city what Ozpin did to us? This is what I keep talking about in regards to the hypocrisy. The group is endlessly furious at Ozpin for his choices, but when they make those same choices, or others make those same choices… nothing. No reaction. Or the reaction is praise. Why the hell does Ruby look like this

while watching Ironwood put an entire city into the position she was in during Volume 6? It’s the same thing! Either the city of Mantle is duped into fighting an impossible war without all the pertinent information---the thing that the fandom has raked Ozpin over the coals for supposedly doing to the group---or they’re told about the immortality later and you’re faced with all the same dangers. Who’s going to attack innocents in their fear and anger? Who’s going to dive back into their addictions? Who’s going to give up completely? Who is going to join Salem? “He’s doing it,” Ruby whispers even though hypocrisy remains the name of the game and “doing it” achieves nothing. Seriously, what did Ironwood accomplish here besides briefly emboldening his people? He could have done that through teaming up with Robyn alone. All revealing Salem has done is set up a host of new problems and put an entire city into the position the group thinks Ozpin is morally horrific for putting them in. “Telling us about Salem but not that she’s immortal is Bad” was the emotional center of Volume 6, but now suddenly it doesn’t matter anymore? Would the writing please acknowledge the double standards here? 

Especially given how many secrets still remain. In the last few hours I’ve seen multiple posts with fans writing about how happy they are that everything is coming to light when... it’s not. This is by no means a clean slate, devoid of secret keeping. In fact, you need a list to keep track of who knows what right now:

Yang: Knows that her mother is the Spring Maiden

Weiss: Knows that her sister is set to become the next Winter Maiden

Blake and Yang: Know that they told Robyn about the Amity secret

Ruby and Oscar: Know that Ironwood now knows about Salem’s immortality. The rest of the group presumably doesn’t know they told him 

Ironwood: Knows about Salem and her immortality but (potentially) not that the relic still has a question, it draws grimm, or the real reason why Ozpin left. Those secrets weren’t acknowledged either way

Robyn: Knows about Salem but not her immortality. Presumably does not know about the relics, the Maidens, etc.

Mantle: Knows about Salem but not the fact that they can’t beat her

At this point I’m just a broken record and I do apologize for that, but what else is there to say when RWBY keeps making the same mistakes every episode? More sloppy setups, more hypocrisy, more picking and choosing when there will be consequences for actions, or when characters will get angry, or even when realism applies. It says a lot about a story that I’m wincing over a shot of our supposed hero smiling and actively agreeing with the villain. Watts is 100% right when he said that “Our tin soldier’s heart has cost him his head.”

And we’ve still got half an episode of nonsense left. I’m just going to power through the rest of this. 

Hated Jaune’s ridiculous “line up!” moment. That just read as so stupid to me. I get that other people loved it but it just didn’t work on my end. There are better ways to demonstrate growth than having him learn the (oh so difficult?) skill of giving an order via treating adults like five-year-olds. 

Tyrian goes off to cause more chaos in the form of trying to murder Robyn, only to find that Clover and Qrow are there to back her up. I liked Qrow’s little line about getting a crack at him first because yeah, for him this fight is personal. Last time they met Qrow nearly succumbed to his poison and Ruby was nearly kidnapped. He deserves to get in any killing blows if Tyrian is set to die this volume. 

We learn that Neo is off to try and steal the lamp from the “farm boy” and oh yeah, wouldn’t it have been great if there was a way to avoid this whole scenario? If the group had, just maybe, put the relic into the vault like they’d intended to do from the start? Or at least give us a good reason for carrying it out in public, at the Schnee mansion of all places. RWBY is chock-full of the most contrived situations I’ve ever seen, relying entirely on random bouts of stupidity for them to “make sense.” No one thinks twice against carrying around their most precious object in a city they know has been infiltrated by Salem’s men. Ironwood starts talking about his secrets in front of the people he’s keeping secrets from. Is it really that hard to come up with scenarios that don’t rely on our heroes randomly losing a large number of brain cells?

Meanwhile, Cinder is going after the Winter Maiden and will no doubt find that Winter is guarding her. Back at the fight, Ruby tries to use her silver eyes but is too distracted. That at least is a limitation on her power, even if it doesn’t make much sense that she’d be more distracted now than when she had a leviathan grimm bearing down on her. 

Penny takes a massive hit and for a brief moment I thought, “Here! Ten episodes in and we’ll finally see Ruby have some reaction to Penny’s resurrection. After all, seeing her friend lying on the ground like that is going to trigger some pretty traumatic memories.” But no. Penny pops up with an “Ouch!” and it’s once again just another joke.

I did like them using the grimm’s own tusk to take it down though. That was a good and visually interesting plan. We also get to see Penny as the darling of Mantle again, including Robyn complimenting her over the comms. So again, what was the point of framing her, either from the villain’s or the story’s perspective? Who knows. We’re not given a reason. It’s just a thing that happened that, like always, led to no consequences. 

Watts walks into his trap, reveals that he has control over the arena, pulls out his gun, and Ironwood absolutely roasts him with, “You always were a pain in the ass.” Highlight of the episode. Everything else remains a chore to watch.

Three more episodes. Just three more and we can put this mess of a volume behind us. Or at least I can.

Until next Saturday 💚

[saintheartwing]

Invader Zim: The Pigshit Troll,  Part Two

"Well, son, I can tell something's truly bothering you." Professor Membrane remarked as he sat down next to Dib in his room, black-gloved hands folded in his lap, his eyes gazing down through his big, large white goggles…not that you could see them, that glass was thick! "I'd like us to be closer. Please, talk."

"Wow, that's new." Dib thought. His dad outright approaching him pretty much out of nowhere just to talk? "Uh…Dad, when you were young, did people call you names? Bully you? Like…a lot? I'm getting accused of being this horrible online bully that's just TRASHING people's stories on the school website."

"You? Oh, Dib, that sounds so silly! You're slightly whiny, my boy, not a troll."

"…thanks, I guess?" Dib muttered as his Dad ruffled his hair.

"Complaining isn't always a bad thing, Dib. When people were getting sick from the food they bought at their local groceries, it took going to Congress and complaining to the government that the food wasn't right to change things. If we don't point out when something doesn't work, then it won't ever get made better. And sometimes it works! Look at that delightful Sonic movie. I remember when I was young, seeing that trailer drop. My heart sank. My hopes were crushed. But then…then they listened to the outcry, made Sonic look far better, and it was as if I was a child again playing Genesis, hidden away in my closet!" He proclaimed. "Sometimes people listen, sometimes they make changes, and it makes things better. THAT'S the eternal hope of people who complain. That if they say just the right words to the right person at the right time…they'll convince them to be better than they are."

"I'd LIKE to think that." Dib sighed. "But sometimes…I think people just wanna get stuff off their chest."

"Well, that's a human response." His dad told him. "That's normal."

"And sometimes I think people just wanna scream at someone and be heard!"

"That's normal too." Professor Membrane added. "At any rate, I'm not going to tell you to simply get a thicker skin and "buck up". The studies show that doesn't work at all!" He remarked, shaking his head back and forth. "And I'm certainly not going to tell you to retreat into yourself either, or just never go online. No, you need to talk to people about it. Talking always helps, that's what the data shows." He told Dib with a firm, wise, nod. "You can always come to me about this sort of thing, son. I promise you."

"That does make me feel a little better." Dib admitted, his father ruffling his hair before he left the room, a soft warmth spreading through Dib's frame. That HAD been nice, being able to just chat with his Dad. Still…he needed a long term solution. Talking to his father about this sort of thing was pretty much just a band aid.

He needed a more permanent fix. Luckily he knew just who to turn to.

"I need your help."

Gaz couldn't believe what she was hearing. She stared at Dib, mouth agape, eyes wide.

"…YOU…need MY help." She remarked as she stopped playing the latest edition of "Super Smash Bros X Street Fighter", putting the controller down. "…I should call Ripley's Believe it or Not. Rarer than Bigfoot! Rarer than the Loch Ness Monster! Rarer than an actual alien! DIB MEMBRANE ASKING FOR MY HELP." She gave a big, fat, grin. "By the way, that reminds me, guess who was using the belt sander?"

"Wait, Bigfoot's back?!" Dib asked, gaping in surprise. "Is he still there?!" He wanted to know as Gaz led him to the garage door.

"It was never Bigfoot, Dib." She told him.

"Then who was it?"

"CHEWBACCA!" She proclaimed with a grin as, sure enough, a tall, crossbow-blaster-wearing furry alien stood there, black nose a bit ruffled as he finished putting the last touches on his new knife using the belt sander, and cheerily grinned at Gaz, waving at her.

"CHEWIE?!" Dib asked.

"What a Wookie." Gaz sighed. "He's been smuggling me parts for my room security ever since I found him. I can't believe you ever spooked him enough to chase him off, though. What on Earth did you use?"

"Well, evidently wookies are positively terrified of air horns." Dib confessed. "Sorry about that. Must have super sensitive ears, huh?"

"HUUUUHRRRRRUUNNHHH!" Chewie agreed, exiting the garage as Dib sighed and turned to Gaz.

"So can you help me track down that troll?" He wanted to know.

"I dunno…" Gaz rubbed her chin. "I mean, I don't like getting bad reviews left on my stories either, but it is KINDA funny to see you squirming and under so much scrutiny." She confessed. "And you can't just move away or anything. Even if you did, if more reviews popped up trashing people's work, they would just all assume it's still you. Other countries got internet, after all. Unless you were literally tied to a pole and couldn't TYPE, people would just assume you're still at it."

"You're all heart!" Dib grumbled.

"Hey, you wanted help, I'm giving you the truth. That's just how people feel, you can be a really condescending asshole." Gaz said. "You ain't no perfect little angel."

"As opposed to being a REGULAR asshole like you or Zim?" Dib said, his temper flaring up, Gaz looking astounded that Dib was actually talking back to her. "And I've never CLAIMED to be an angel, Gaz, I…I KNOW I can be kind of…pushy. Obsessive compulsive. And I know I can be…insensitive to what other people think and…okay yeah! Yeah, I can be a jerk!" He threw his hands in the air and sighed. "But I'm doing something literally no other kid has to do!" He paced around, shaking his head back and forth. "No OTHER kid has to put up with trying to stop an alien lunatic that's not just a megalomaniac and psychotic alien but somebody outright sadistic and evil and petty and manipulative and a total jerk! On a pretty much daily basis! And half the time he almost succeeds at what he does, and if I don't stop him, people DIE! That's…that is WAY too much to put on someone not old enough to shave!" Dib told Gaz.

"…yeah, I'll give you that one." Gaz sighed.

"But I'm the only one who gets shit on. Nobody at school criticizes you because you'll beat the crap out of them. You got those freaky powers and everything! Even the teachers are scared of you! Zim? Zim gets off because people see me trying to expose him and they think I'm bullying him unfairly! Even though every day he's always up to something horrible! Literally! Every day! I shouldn't have to deal with him, OR the stuff I get from you and my classmates and now all of this with people thinking I'm not just nutty for liking stuff they think is strange, but that I'm some rotten troll!"

"Maybe Zim is the troll." Gaz suggested.

Dib stopped in mid-spiel, and he gaped at her. "…that's…not baaaaad!" He murmured. "That IS the kinda thing he'd do! Framing me for something HE'S done! And when he wants to, he can be really fiendishly clever…" He paced back and forth. "But we need to check. Is there any way to check?" He murmured. "Could we trace his IP address?"

"We could if we hack into the school's computer system, and from there, we can access where the reviews got posted. But while you do that, I'm going to go call a…friend." She remarked, nonchalantly making her way off to her room as Dib raced for his, to begin his hard work. Gaz slid on into her chair in her room, typing into a little keyboard built into the armrest, and PING! A vid screen manifested before her, and a short, tubby Irken was on the other end.

Skoodge, Zim's…friend. Though given how he treated him, you'd think Skoodge was more of a servant. When they went to go get snacks and drinks, it was Skoodge who had to carry everything. When Zim wanted something moved, he got Skoodge to do it and never thanked him. And when it came to the food…

"You see, I can't stand eating anything day-old. So its only fair I make up for it in other ways!" Zim was insisting even now to Skoodge from the other end of the basement, leaving Skoodge with the day old donuts while Zim stuffed his face. Skoodge quietly sighed, shaking his head, and then turned to the screen on his computer station, seeing he had an incoming message, and turning it on.

"Ah, Gaz. How're you?" He asked. Gaz smiled back at him. Skoodge was very eager to please, easy to manipulate but, still…compared to most Irkens, he was a civil, nice sort. Conquering planets or the like was just a job to him, it wasn't personal, and he didn't seem to take any real delight in being a jerk the way Zim did, or Tak did. Besides, he also happened to find Gaz attractive. It was the purple hair. For some reason, Irkens looooved the color purple.

"Hey, Skoodge, I need a favor. Has Zim been bragging about being the troll at school leaving all those awful, sick reviews?" Gaz wanted to know.

"Oh, no. But he's loving seeing Dib go to pieces." Skoodge remarked. "It's really mean. He can't stop laughing uncontrollably whenever the topic gets brought up. He said he wishes he'd thought of it, it's so simple and evil a plan that it should have been his plan."

Gaz had to admit that she'd been pleasantly surprised to find Skoodge so agreeable. She'd gone gaming with him, playing online, and she'd grown to learn a lot about him, and also, in return, about Irkens, and it astounded her how much they really had in common with humans. After all, her leaders were also lazy, egotistic, smug jerks who liked hurting people for not being good enough, who forced you into bad jobs that paid barely anything, and thought they were a lot smarter and better than they really were!

And they also placed an emphasis on being tall too. Nobody really respected a short President Man!

Truly, two species joined at the hip without knowing it.

"Thanks, Skoodge. I appreciate it. You're really sure it isn't him, huh? Maybe…it's a long shot but…is GIR doing it? I mean, sometimes GIR gets up to weird things with Minimoose and the Computer."

"GIR has pretended to be a girl online, but he'd never be sadistic enough to leave those kind of messages." Skoodge remarked with a shake of his head.

This was true. The new MMO that came out, "Portal Defenders", a massive crossover game indeed, had come out about five months back and Skoodge had gotten super into it, and he'd been, along with Gaz, very surprised to find a very willing girl character who played as the one and only XJ9 from "My Life As A Teenage Robot" eager to help them. They'd gone on many a raid together and much to their delight, she'd proven invaluable…and also proven to be GIR.

Still, hey. It was a valid life choice. Fine by him.

"Hmm. So much for that. It's not you, is it?"

"No way!" Skoodge insisted. "I get my stories crapped on because I exclusively write fetish material. I'm VERY into macrophilia."

"Yeah, I always wanted to ask, how come you're so into big, huge stories with the rampages or the giants or the big aliens stomping around or eating people? It's kinda odd." Gaz admitted. "I mean, I'm into super metal stuff, I like weird things too, but I always wanted to ask…"

This was true. Skoodge also attended the school in disguise, the same grade as Gaz, and he actually had a lot of talent too. But he reaaaaally enjoyed writing stories with big monsters and aliens. Time after time, they'd be leveling cities or whole towns or some rando would end up becoming a big beast that gobbled up his coworkers or the like. Occasionally he even dived deeper and entire planets would be broken apart or devoured! It was well written, without a doubt, engaging, but it could get…kinda scary.

"Well…I'm short and fat and not the least bit threatening." Skoodge sighed. "Look at me. I'm a tubby loser." He murmured as he picked up his fat gut and shook it about. "But in these stories, I can be anything. I can be big, and powerful, wonderful and terrible all at once. Everyone loves me and fears me all at once. I kinda felt like that right after I conquered Blorch, and the Slaughtering Rat People…until the Tallest shot me outta the closet and another Invader took the credit for my work."

"Wish fulfillment, huh?" Gaz sighed. "Hey, y'know, I get it. I mean, it's why I keep watching "The Craft" or "Carrie" all the time, I'd love to do the kinda things those girls do in those films. Just let loose, y'know?"

"Yeah, sometimes you just gotta feed that wolf that's howling outside your door. Besides, the guidance counselor said it's a good way for me to deal with my more unpleasant urges by expressing them in a creative way." Skoodge added with a smile. "And it's worked! Putting all this on paper made me work through my thoughts and feelings and I began to realize how rotten my species are. We're just the literal worst. Did you know we executed the last artist we had on Irk because he refused to stop drawing propaganda?"

"That sounds dickish."

"It WAS! He said art should be about more than convincing people to blow stuff up. Then they blew him up. A bunch of pieces of him evidently got on Tallest Miyuki when she was in her Invader training, and that's why she decided to tone down the imperialistic tendencies of the Empire…for all the good it did us once Red and Purple came around." Skoodge sighed. "It's too bad, I missed working alongside the Vortians in the labs, those were good years." He confessed.

"Thanks for the help, Skoodge. Keep an eye on Zim for me, wouldja? Good to chat with you again. See you around!" Gaz told him, giving Skoodge a deliberate wink, then shutting the screen off as he sighed softly.

"Anything for you…" He murmured.

Dib meanwhile, had broken into the school system and was looking at various reviews left under people's stories. Hmm, this one was from Gaz-oh. OH! He hadn't seen this before. She was taking umbrage at how the character…an obvious stand-in for her, was portrayed. After all, she had a rough upbringing too, with Professor Membrane never around and yes, when Dib had been younger, he'd done a couple experiments on her. It had actually been what turned her hair purple, and he deeply regretted it, though she'd said she actually ended up LIKING her hair turning that way.

Dib cringed as he read the review. He got that she wanted to see herself as the hero, but…c'mon, Gaz. "I'M the one literally putting my life on the line just about every day, you're playing Game Slave and stuffing your face with pizza, I think I deserve a bit more understanding than you do." He muttered. She came off as so…entitled here!

Oh, and now a new review. "You should be nicer to Zim. He's got mental health issues."

"So do I, but I don't go around trying to destroy planets and enslave people." Dib muttered. "Zim isn't just insane. He's evil. Jesus. Why are there so many Stans for Zim? They all keep thinking he's being picked on when I'm the one who almost always gets it the worst…"

He cringed, stopping himself. "Stop it, Dib. No more pity parties. No more self-flagellating. You gotta focus." He murmured, examining the reviews, scrolling, scrolling. A lot of the troll reviews had been taken down by the teachers because they'd gotten sick of it too, but-wait. A new one. "ReVIEW MY STORiES! YOUR SToRiES ARE PIGSHIT!"

Ah ha. He had the IP address. His fingers swiftly moved across the keyboard, typing rapidly, his eyes widening as he saw where it came from.

It couldn't be. But…

The address was Membrane Labs.

His father's workplace.

What…the…fuuuuuuuck?

[un1queusername]

: no it's not victim-blaming. i'm just saying the risk of you being sexualized is reduced if you wear more modest clothes. but if you do get sexualized, of course it's not your fault. i'm just saying, modest clothes will protect you...

: but is it 100% guaranteed i'm protected from being sexualized if i dressed modestly?

: no but i told you, it reduces the risk.

: then i'm not fully protected because... there are still sexual predators.

: ... yes

: so... dressing modestly... is a band-aid solution.

: ugh yes... but don't deny, it somehow helps.

: but it doesn't address the problem. it only reduces the risk... like sexualization is some kind of a natural disaster that we can't stop from happening. as if it's an earthquake where all we can do is "duck, cover, and hold" so we can somehow avoid death. but it's NOT a natural disaster. you know it's not a natural disaster.

: yes I KNOW it's NOT a natural disaster. but you're forgetting reality. you can't just tell people to stop sexualizing others. the number of sexual predators won't just drop to 0 instantly.

: that's the problem! it's so normal when it's not supposed to be normal!

: so what are you gonna do? tell them, "swiper no swiping"?

: ... look, if i covered myself up and i still got raped, did my clothes do its job? NO, because a rapist is a rapist.

: well, that's the fate i won't wish for you to end up in... but it could go the other way, your clothes could protect you.

: but it happens already! others wore their pajama clothes on and still got raped! whose fault is it?

: the RAPIST of course! ugh, do we have to repeat ourselves?

: so you're telling me to leave the risk of getting raped or not ON MY CLOTHES? when in the first place there shouldn't be any risk.

: you're becoming idealistic.

: huh? WOW, so wishing people did not rape is IDEALISTIC??

: NO, it's not that! i wish too that it doesn't happen but it's just sad that it won't happen in our lifetime... or ever.

: well, we should start NOW! we shouldn't be telling people what to wear because that's not where the problem is. we should teach children that it's bad to touch others when they don't want to be touched.

: but still, you know that it's collectively impossible to eradicate sexual harassment completely. there will always be a case.

: if they still do get touched, at least society knows that it's never the victim's fault, just as how "stealing is bad" is general knowledge. the victim won't be afraid to fight anymore because they know that they're not to be blamed for what's happened to them. and the harasser will get what they deserve.

also, telling others what to wear is not our business. in fact, it doesn't really help the system because it just normalizes rape culture. let people wear what they want to wear. make them feel safe.

[joon-bugs]

Inevitable

“A single tear fell from your eye as you knew you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself. It was inevitable, you were meant for him, you were his, he was yours. Or he used to be. You threw your phone back on the bed and ran your fingers through your hair. You walked back into the living room to grab the remote, and turned off the stupid show, silencing the noise. The sound of three soft knocks hit the other side of the door. “

word count: 2940

pairing: Taehyung/Reader 

genre: angst/smut

warnings: swearing, oral f receiving, sex (lol)

“Don’t answer, don’t answer, don’t answer.”

You caught a glimpse of the retina display that appeared on the floor before you. You missed him you couldn’t deny it, but you also couldn’t deny the fact that someone who could love you so hard could hurt you so bad, again and again, and again. The night was cold and the apartment you two once shared felt so empty. You sat at the end of the bed contemplating your next move as you fiddled with your clammy fingers. You knew all he was going to do was blow up your phone that night as if he was a middle-aged mother and you were his sixteen-year-old daughter out past her curfew. But these weren’t panicked texts filled with anxious pleas, these notifications were manipulative lust filled time bombs that were sent by the boy that was once considered the love of your life. You threw yourself back on the bed, rolling yourself into the duvet thinking back to the writing class earlier that day.

“Y/N can you please share your six-word story? It’s ok if you have a few more words.” The young professor asked you. New faces craned their necks to offer their unwanted attention. Your professor was well aware of the amount of emotion you put into your writing assignments, in fact, that's what made you one of his top students.

“Um sure. My six-word story is ‘The locks changed. And so did you.’”

“That was great. Thank you Y/N, anyone else?” Whispers were exchanged from the girls behind you.

“Do you think that was about Taehyung?”

“They broke up.”

“Yeah, I heard he kept hooking up with other girls while on tour.”

It was true. It was all true. Last night you ended it all with a simple tweet saying “I’m done.” It could’ve been taken many ways but he knew. You had your landlord change your locks so he couldn’t come back, you packed the little stuff he had at your apartment into a duffle bag and dropped it off at his office building. You erased him, well..you tried to at least. You couldn’t let his smile fix everything..not again. You needed to hold your ground. If your love didn’t keep him content while he was away, his shouldn’t be enough for you at all. From drunken sex filled snap chats to accidental ‘you can come up to the room 😉’ texts, he was fulfilling every girl’s dream except yours.

Your phone flashed again.

Babe, please answer me, I don't know what I did I just want to talk, please. [2 min ago]

Y/N please stop acting childish and just pick up the phone [1 min ago]

Please I don’t want to lose you, not like this please answer [30 secs ago]

Y/N [now]

You watched the screen go black. It hurt to know that he felt that way but it would hurt worse if you let him back in and he did it again. The screen flashed once more.

(UNKNOWN NUMBER CALLING) maybe: Taehyungie 💓

You watched it ring three times before you finally gave in and picked up the phone.

“Hey before you say anything just let me talk Tae, ok? Last night one of your little hookups sent a snap video from your phone of you guys doing stuff and I just can't take it anymore. I’m sick of your tired ass apologies and your repetitive behavior when you leave. I love you with all that I have and it feels like you don’t even want it. So. Don’t bother coming to my apartment. When you guys get back all your stuff is at your office. I love you Taehyung, I always have. But you’ve screwed me over for the last time.”

“Y/N please I need you.”  He sighed in defeat, his exhale long and drawn out.

“I can’t Taehyung, I can’t put my life on hold to watch you live yours. I can’t endure this pain anymore I-,” he cut you off before you could defend yourself.

“I know this is bad timing Y/N but I have to go, I’ll see you when I get home.”

“Taehyung No-”

“I’ll see you when I get home Y/N. I always do.” His last words were rough and restricting. Part of you didn’t want to believe that you’d open your door if he were to knock on it but you knew you would. He hardly had to try when it came to manipulating himself back into your life. How could you possibly give up on your first and only love?

It was seven years ago when you looked at the sunkissed boy who hadn't grown into his ears, in his innocent eyes and exchanged your first ‘I love you’. When you continuously fell in love with him every day. You didn't know that when you said goodbye to him on his first tour that he’d turn into the most lying, deceitful boy you've ever met. He’d changed in ways that you hadn’t expected. As you fell deeper in love with him, he fell into fame. You’d allowed yourself to become his punching bag, taking in everything he no longer wanted. His “love” was like a short leash, whenever you decided you wanted to slip out while he wasn't looking, he would pull you right back. He knew you like the back of his hand, you had a big heart and couldn’t stop yourself from helping everyone but yourself. He took advantage of your kindness and you knew it.

You laid flat on your back staring at the ceiling with dry eyes that could no longer manage to cry. This was what your life had come too, a never-ending cycle of pain, forgiveness and a quarter teaspoon, no, a pinch of happiness. Your parents would have been disappointed if they knew. They raised you to be independent, strong, and free-willed, which you were, but not when it came to him. Taehyung’s smile worked like band-aids, his hugs like stitches, his soft snores, while he lay next to you, felt like pain meds, the temporary solutions you had grown an addiction too. You couldn’t help but open the door when he knocked, couldn't help but to let him wipe away the tears he caused. When he was with you he morphed into that innocent boy with big ears that you fell in love with, the one that held that warm-hearted smile with nothing to hide behind it.

~two weeks later~

You flipped through the channels scanning through the ridiculous day time television, trying to distract yourself from two things. One, Taehyung came home today. Two, he was still blowing up your phone that was lost between the sheets of your bed. Settling on a stupid game show that was interrupted by equally corny infomercials, you decided to sprawl across the sofa and attempted to go back to sleep. In all honesty, that was the only way you could stop your mind from racing.

After a heavy set elderly woman won the grand prize, your eyes finally grew heavy. You usually didn't dream but with your thoughts so heavy it was bound to happen. Maybe you’d dream of the false reality of a happy life. From behind the sofa, you heard the keypad to your door being fiddled with. It was him. He was there. You turned up the volume of the tv to make it seem like you couldn’t hear him at the door. You quietly got off the couch and walked to your bedroom, careful not to make the floor creak. Staring at your bed you could see your phone light up like new years, vibrating nonstop.

I’m home, meet me at the office, please :)  [3 hours ago]

Or not I guess [2 hours ago]

You’re really going to try to stand your ground this time huh? [2 hours ago]

Y/N are you hungry? I’m going to grab a bite I can bring you something [1 hour ago]

You should be bringing me food tbh I’m the one that was away working [1 hour ago]

Answer your phone baby, please [30 mins ago]

Y/N stop acting like this ily [25 mins ago]

Babe this is ridiculous [20 mins ago]

I’m omw [10 mins ago]

4 Missed calls from Unknown Number [1 min ago]

4 voicemails [1 min ago]

You changed the lock. Really. [now]

Come open the door [now]

A single tear fell from your eye as you knew you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself. It was inevitable, you were meant for him, you were his, he was yours. Or he used to be. You threw your phone back on the bed and ran your fingers through your hair. You walked back into the living room to grab the remote, and turned off the stupid show, silencing the noise. The sound of three soft knocks hit the other side of the door.

“Why change the code if you're just going to let him back in?” Your landlord had asked you two weeks ago. He was right. Nosy Mr.Hwang was always right. Your warm hand met the cold metal. Were you going to start the cycle again? Were you going to attempt to set him straight? Would he even listen? Your eyes hung low, looking at your worn out oversized sleep shirt and cotton shorts. You turned your hand right letting him in. Like clockwork. The familiar musk of him enveloped your body, as he took you into an undeserving hug. An uncontrollable stream of tears began to stain his brown wool coat.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry baby. I’m so sorry.” His deep voice offered the same lame ass excuses as he caressed your face. He dropped the duffle bag you left at the office on your floor and picked you up, taking you back to the bedroom.

“I can’t keep doing this, you keep making me look like an idiot for loving you. Taehyung I need you back.” Your words were muffled in the curve of his neck.

“I know, I’m so sorry.” He whispered, his fingers combing through your disheveled hair. You'd been a mess for days on end.

“Are you even listening to me. Do you ever?” You pounded your fists on the bed, determined for him to hear you. He caught your hands in his, trapping them against his body.

“I do. You know that no one can know about you, I have a part I need to play..and if I don’t act like I do, the boys will think something is up. It hurts me too when I have to do things like this.”

“It doesn't Tae. I know it doesn't because you’d be more careful! Doing your part to keep us a secret doesn't mean you “have” to hurt me in the process. I’ve seen how the boys act after shows. You could be nonchalant and shy like Jungkook and pass the girls off, showing zero interest. But no. You choose to get drunk and throw yourself at the groupies and somehow, I get a glimpse of it each time. It’s like you do this on purpose Taehyung. Hell, you can’t even keep up with your own excuses! Dispatch exposed us months ago Tae... MONTHS AGO.” You were yelling, screaming at the top of your lungs.

“You know this gets really fucking annoying having to console you and apologize when you don’t believe me. I love you, I don’t love those girls. I don’t even remember their names. Tour life gets lonely without you by my side. And I just-”

“Stop with the b.s. and just leave Tae.”

“No, I’m not going anywhere. You need me just as bad as I need you.”

“I said get out!” You yelled, wiping away the tears burning hot trails down your eyes.

“No.” He sighed,  wrapping you in an unwanted hug. Taehyung began to place sloppy kisses on the back of your neck before he threw you on the bed and straddled you.

“Please, just one more chance, let me show you how much I care.” He loved to remind you that he was in charge, even if it was little things like this. Your eyes flickered between his piercing eyes and his lips hovering above yours. He saw the hesitation in your eyes and leaned his hips into you. Your mind sent unforgettable images across your thoughts: you were reminded of your first time and how sweet and careful he was, and how you two kept laughing because neither of you knew what you were doing. You felt his eyes staring a hole into you. “I can’t.” You whispered, as his lips inched closer to yours.

“Taehyung, please. Please leave.” Your voice ghosted over his lips just before he kissed you passionately and slowly. He lifted your shirt up, grazing his cold fingers over your torso.

“Do you really want me to go Y/N?”

“Tae, I-I can’t keep living like this. Every breath I take is for you, I live only for you. Why would I actually want you to leave? I need the old you back, I need the boy who was just as in love with me as I was with him. Promise me you’ll stop treating me like this, that's all I ask. Quit saying you love me and actually do it.”

“I promise you, babe, I swear.” He claimed, before placing kisses along your collarbone. You grasped the hem of his t-shirt, he only parted from your body to let the fabric pass by, as you gently pulled it off. His lips found their way back to your collarbone while you slid your hands along his soft chest, lightly scraping your nails down his torso and causing him to groan into your abdomen. You began to grind your lower body into him, and Taehyung grabbed you, moving you up so that you were at the headboard, kissing you once before he sat up. He then grabbed the waistband of your shorts and panties, tugging them down your legs, throwing them on the floor. He landed back on top of you, spreading your thighs with his knees.  He moved his head down to your inner thighs, peppering kisses slowly until he reached your folds, pulling them apart to see the reaction he caused. You grabbed the cotton sheets beneath you as a moan escaped his lips, the noise making you even more turned on than before. He leaned in to taste you, his tongue hot, gliding against your walls.

“Tae don’t do what you did to those girls. Make love to me.” Your eyes met his for a split second before he went back down, sucking on your clit causing you to moan louder.  He stood up from his position after a moment and undid his pants before pulling them down along with his boxers allowing himself to spring free. His lips met yours and the kisses felt familiar, somewhat like his old kisses, but these were filled with love, neediness, and regret.  You wrapped your legs around him bringing him closer, his erection rubbing against your slit. Taehyung’s eyes looked into yours as he sunk within you. You gasped at the feeling of being so close and so full of him. Once he was inside you he stopped for a second, just admiring how well you two fit together like puzzle pieces. Pressing more of his soft kisses to your lips, he began to push in and out of you, creating a unique rhythm that seemed like it was meant just for you. His hand traveled down to your breast, massaging one in his large hand. You moaned into his never-ending stream of kisses, your saliva mixing with his. You sensed each other’s need through the kisses, massages, and hair pulling. Taehyung changed his rhythm, as your back arched meeting your hips with his. You panted against his lips, his dick repeatedly hitting your g-spot, making your thighs shake. You had each other on the edge of an orgasm. He slowed his pace in an attempt to tease you. “I’m getting on top.’ You grunted, swinging your leg over, trying to flip him. He denied you, pushing you back down.

“No.” “Tae!” You complained, pushing your head into the pillows. He immediately pinned your hips to the bed, making you sob out a whine. “Tonight is for you,” He breathed, pushing your sweat riddled hair out of your face. The sincerity in his voice made you moan. He seemed different, he seemed like he was genuinely sorry like he wanted to take everything back like he cared if you forgave him. Your thought was cut short by Tae consuming you in another kiss while his hand stealthily made its way down to your swollen clit, and rubbed it in jerky circular motions. This matched with his thrusts pushed you into an orgasm, so intense your toes curled. Your hands were still gripping the sheets, knuckles turned white, in an attempt to hold yourself together.  You climaxed as his cum filled you, the hot liquid burning your insides. He rode out your high, his hips stuttering after a few more thrusts. He fell limp next to you, his chest heaving. He grabbed your hand, prying it from their steel grip on the bed. He kissed the shaking knuckle, before intertwining your hands together.   “I’m so sorry Y/N, you’re the only one I want.” He repeated his classic apology. It was his final apology this time because..well because you believed him.

written by Jo

[writerkenna]

The Lights of Stars and the Glitter in your Eyes Chapter 3

Okay y'all here's the spotify playlist. It is my jam, seriously: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/33fFZZf5GuCb5iKylbEL1V

Songs that I listened to while writing this, in no particular order: I Do Adore, Let's Hear it for the Boy, Yellow, Daddy Issues, and Anything for You

Enjoy!

The meetings, which consisted of councils that were becoming increasingly blurred in Thor’s head and streams of words like ‘judiciary system’ and ‘delegation of power’ pounding at him, had become thrice weekly, always in the morning, always packed.

“I’d like to put my name in for consideration,” Valkyrie said with enough force to rouse Thor’s chin up from slumping on his hand. He hadn’t slept well-consistently hadn’t been sleeping well, whether that be Bruce sharing a bed with him or his political strife was undetermined-and had only been half a part of the conversation so far. He scanned the room and its holographic boards to catch up. Leader of the warrior force, Thor deduced.

“Uh, I, me too, for that. Yeah,” Korg followed. Valkyrie shot him a look, but Korg didn’t seem to notice. The groups of people that made up the councils and parliamentary members present in the room were generally displeased by both nominations, not that they really could do much about it. In the end, Thor would make the choice. On every council leader and major edict of society, it was him who would make the call, which was a boost to his ego while also terrifying as all hell.

Valkyrie eyed him carefully, and Thor knew just from the shift of her lip that she was deciding her odds. She deserved the title, more qualified than anyone in the room, excluding himself, maybe, despite what the rest of the assembly thought of it, thought of her time away from Asgard. Thor would try to find Korg some position, though, fabricate a title if he needed to.

“I’ll see those of you on defense again three days from now. Education and Agriculture, tomorrow morning,” Heimdall ordered. He had alleviated Thor of the duty of running these things, and Thor was more than grateful. They disbanded in a shuffle of mumbles and Thor dredged himself up to stand.

“Hey,” Valkyrie said as she shoved her elbow against Thor’s bicep. He shoved back at her with a grin.

“Trying to take up the old mantle, huh?”

“Yeah,” Valkyrie eased slowly, a prick of something being held back and shift of her shoulders, prepping for a fight, “so?”

“No, no, it’s good! I’m like, yay, Val, you go girl!” Thor covered quick, gesturing a non committal fist bump and Valkyrie took it with a side-arching smirk and roll of her eyes.

“Okay, then.”

“Just don’t let the, well, the others worry you, alright? You’re suited for this.” Thor hoped this was enough for her to understand his leanings, as much of a hint he felt he could reasonably give. Valkyrie’s eyes went wide and her lips formed a flat smile. It warmed Thor a little, to issue something with some effectiveness, some net good.

Loki passed them and they both called after him. He halted with a huff.

“Yes?” he hissed at them both.

“So, what, no bid for power?” Valkyrie snarked back.

“I was expecting at least some sort of coup attempt or something,” Thor added, his glance catching on Loki, who was not exactly mad, maybe closer to a flat discomfort.

“No, not this time. Not me.”

It dawned on Thor how quiet Loki had been in the past two weeks of meetings. No bursts of anger, no snips at parliament, no desperate sieges on Thor himself. It was almost like Loki was actually exhibiting restraint, or possibly embarrassment, maybe some sheepishness to act around a people who would never trust him, but past experience made Thor doubtful of any of those.

“Well,” Thor sighed, feeling some mix of awkward tension and familial sympathy. He shifted on his feet and looked away from the lines of Loki’s unreadable but undeniably dreary eyes, “I think I’m going to find Bruce now.”

Loki and Valkyrie’s eyes connected for a moment, and a smile crossed Loki’s face for the first time in a while. Thor didn’t understand them.

“Mmhm,” Valkyrie hummed. Thor leaned in to them for an explanation, hands squared at his hips, but Loki just breezed a snip of a laugh as Valkyrie wiggled her brows too fast, a sort of suggestion of something.

“Go on,” Loki said with a flick of thin fingers on a tight hand, smirking in a way Thor knew was never good for him, “find your mortal.”

Thor was not in the habit of referring to Bruce, in any capacity, as ‘his mortal’ and he wanted to battle on Loki’s usage of it but both him and Valkyrie looked so smug he didn’t think it would do him much good. Thor sniffed a goodbye and turned towards the cafeteria.

Bruce was in the middle of conversation with a gaggle of kids when Thor found him. They were teaching him an Asgardian card game that was older than Thor. Bruce, everyone had discovered, was actually pretty good with kids when all his context wasn’t hanging around. Thor hesitated before stepping over.

He noticed, not for the first time he must admit, the true gentleness of Bruce Banner. It was an extreme counter to Hulk and all his brash moves, swings of fists and garishly loud outbursts at the wrong times. Bruce was contained and careful with every adjustment he made. Thor could see it right then, how he took his time as he slid cards to the members of his circle. Each movement started with a ducked head and a shared look, quick but practiced, a final check of consent, a caring concern, before Bruce enacted it. It was close to overwhelmingly sweet, if not worryingly so.

“These kids are whoppin’ my butt, Thor!” Two of the girls in the group giggled. Thor lowered himself around Bruce’s shoulders. Bruce adjusted and Thor caught a hint of a smile and a touch of a blush.

“Play this one.” Thor touched a card with the blunt edge of his nail and Bruce flipped it down onto the table. Someone issued a groan and Bruce gained a point. Thor removed himself from over him, catching the closeness. Bruce gave the win to the kids after the next round and Thor and him made their way back to the room.

“Give me like twenty, thirty minutes, and then Weird Science, okay?” Bruce said as he pulled up all his tabs and his ever-growing paper. It was his plan to have the full paper done and ready for peer-review once they landed, as a sort of homecoming gift of well wishes to earth, a band aid for his long absence from academia. Bruce wouldn’t tell him directly, but Thor could feel the nerves and apprehensions boiling so clearly under Bruce’s skin when they talked about their destination. Thor was relieved the paper was, if not an actual solution, a nice distraction.

Thor flopped belly first onto the bed as Bruce got lost to his work. He appreciated their routine after meetings, work time for Bruce, then a Midgardian film, before they split again and he went to spar with Valkyrie or Korg or any warm, muscled body he found and Bruce dove scrunched-face first into the study of the science of matter in a void or something of the like. Thor, on most days, enjoyed the brief moments of sleep he could steal before Bruce woke him up for the next cinema classic he determined was on their required viewing list.

Thor managed fifteen minutes of a nap before he roused himself with a low groan and pulled two thick packets from his nightstand. He was supposed to have his new education system picked by the next morning, and the thought of that made him want to be swallowed up by the satin sheets under him so deep even Heimdall’s sight would be blind to him. Yet, still, he made a try to read the dense things. As Thor finally reached the bottom of page two, Bruce concluded his work session and turned over his shoulder to him. Thor’s eyes flicked up from his pages and gave Bruce one small scan.

He exuded, even in Sakaarian dressings, a very specific energy, the energy of someone who could be actively interested and spend ten straight hours of research on topics Thor fell asleep just hearing of. Frankly, Bruce Banner was a huge nerd.

“Okay, so this one is-” 

“You must come to my meetings with me.”

“Ah, buddy, I don’t… that’s kind of an overst-” Bruce took a pace back to his screens.

“Yes! This is a brilliant solution! You shall come from now on, Bruce. It’s set.”

“Am I even allowed to be there? Like, isn’t it sort of an Asgardians only thing?” Bruce stumbled, wringing one finger around another.

“Korg’s there,” Thor supplied, seeing his idea, his salvation from the weight of a whole people on his shoulders slinking away as Bruce broke eye contact.

“Well, I-”

“I really want you there,” Thor pleaded. The corner of Bruce’s lips flicked up briefly, enough for Thor to count it as a win.

“I-maybe, okay, I’ll think about it. So am I, like, going as your . . . friend, or just a bystander, or . . . ?”

Thor puzzled on this. Bystander, a very inactive and unhelpful role, was not what Thor wanted. He had sort of pictured more of someone who would pretty much make all the choices for him. He beamed when he found the right word.

“Chancellor. You can be my chancellor. Will you?” Thor pulled his knees up under himself, growing giddy with the the idea of it and feeling his chest get a little lighter. Bruce’s eyes were wide and Thor couldn’t figure if they were going more towards bright surprise or intense shock.

“Ah, wow, that’s-Thor, thanks. That’s, um, chancellor sounds like a big deal, though,” Bruce said as he paced his way over to the bed with his careful tension.

“Well, yes, it is a bit, I suppose. You’d be my advisor and confidant for all matters. Every great king has had one,” Bruce was still unconvinced, hanging on the edge of sitting on the bed and avoiding Thor’s stare. Thor was beginning to feel a hint of desperation in himself, and he suddenly needed this more than he thought, “Bruce, please, I could really use this. And you are-I mean this quite truly-the smartest person I know.”

This seemed to be the secret charm for Bruce, as hearing it made his smile bloom into his cheeks, his bottom lip tucking up under his teeth in a way that reminded Thor of how full Bruce’s lips were.

“Well, I guess I . . . where do I start, then?” Bruce shrugged, not fully sure, but it was enough to get Thor to bound up like a spring to deliver Bruce the packets.

“Yes, yes, thank you, Bruce. You are a wonderful friend. Here, education system outlines. I’m supposed to have one picked by tomorrow.” Bruce’s brows spiked up and he shot Thor a look that was the exact halfway between the start of a laugh and the dip of a frown. He shook his head and opened up the first packet. Thor leaned over and tried to be subtle as he watched Bruce’s face scan the papers. Bruce had the paper close to his eyes as he picked at each line with his finger tracking along, the same look he got when he found a good source on cosmic ray collisions (and Thor actually knew what that meant, which, if anything, was a testament to Bruce’s passion). He seemed to be getting more out of it than Thor could have ever hoped to.

“You should go with this one, I think,” Bruce said as he handed a packet back over to Thor, “It has a really good curriculum already set for the younger kids and a lot of elective choices for the older ones. It will be good for entering the workforce.”

Thor blinked down at the paper, then back up at Bruce who was aflame with blush.

“You’re a genius.”

“Ah, ha, I don’t know about that-” Bruce’s lips went tight across his teeth and his face reddened even further.

“You are,” Thor affirmed. In terms of genius Avengers, Tony was usually the first one that people thought of, but Thor felt, especially over the course of these past few weeks spending majority of his time with Bruce, that he knew exactly who the real brain of the team was. Stark always seemed to understand this, too, if his little remarks about Bruce’s papers and the way he deferred to Bruce in their shared lab work were indicators. Bruce’s intelligence and how far it stretched amazed Thor to no ends, from the second they had met in New York. Bruce was stunned into silence and Thor admitted he was a bit pleased with himself that he was the one able to make sure Bruce was aware of his own brilliance. They were staring at each other now, stuck in that silence, and Thor felt a tingle of electricity mixed with something else slip down to his fingers.

There was an uneasy rumble from beneath their bed and as Thor started up to check on it, the ship jolted harshly to the right and he landed face first into the pillow. He pulled his head up to find Bruce tossed against the floor.

“Thor, y-you okay?” Bruce staggered as he peeled himself off the floor. Thor was quick to pull him back up.

“Let’s go,” Thor shot, and then they were on their way to the hull, bolting down as the ship rustled and tossed. Once they reached the front of the ship, Valkyrie, Heimdall, and Loki were already there. Outside the front window, rocks crashed about them, immense and jagged.

“What’s happening?” Thor asked the crowd.

“Asteroid field that wasn’t on our maps,” Heimdall informed. Another rock hit their left and Bruce fell into Thor’s side. Thor wrapped an arm around him to steady them both, and because Bruce was looking just a bit green at his corners.

“We need to-” Loki started, but he stumbled forward as they were slammed into from behind. A low growl bubbled out from the figure under his arm and Thor checked to find Bruce shaking whatever that was off him.

“Thor, you, ah, you gotta get me to the r-room, now, or I-I gotta-” Bruce’s sweat was sponging off onto Thor’s shoulder. Thor pulled his arms tighter around Bruce as he squirmed.

“I’m going to-uh . . .” Thor shot his eyes over to Loki, who upon seeing Bruce groaning, nodded fast and gestured them off. They had a hard time even staying balanced as Thor got them both back to the room. Bruce was lost from him at this point, half green and drifting further from himself with each tumble of the ground below.

“Bruce, hey, Bruce, let’s just-” Thor tried but Bruce had been good as gone since Thor had closed the door.

“Thor!” The word ripped out of the morphing body in front of him, breaking in the middle, shifting from Bruce’s squawk to Hulk’s howl. A green head tossed back with a roar and Thor was face to face with an eight foot mass focused only on him.

“Hulk, my friend,” Thor eased, with careful hands poised out in front of him as he tiptoed closer to Hulk.

“Hulk miss pretty god. Hulk come to see him.” Hulk pressed in towards Thor, that cocked up grin back again. Thor was washed over with guilt and he shut his eyes with a wince. The interaction started to feel like a betrayal and Thor fell back a few steps away from Hulk.

“You . . . you can’t just take over Bruce to see me. That’s not okay.” Thor remembered Bruce’s theory, the pendulum effect, and worry covered the pit of his gut as he considered a permanent loss of Bruce Banner. Hulk grunted, his brow folding into angry creases, and he punched a lamp off a counter.

“No, no, Hulk want Thor! Hulk come see him!” Hulk threw large fists onto the bed and a pillow bounced to the ground. As his arms continued to thrash about, Thor could see the trajectory of this freak out and while the ship rocketed them around, Thor rushed over to him to calm the storm.

“Okay, shh, shh now,” Thor murmured as he put a hand to Hulk’s chest. He felt the thunder of his heart simmer down to a rumble, and Hulk lowered to sit on the bed, green eyes softening when they found Thor in their line of sight. Warm breath gusted across Thor’s neck and they both inhaled together. Thor chanced a grin, “hey, sorry, we’re okay, alright. I missed you, too. I-just, is Banner going to be able to come back, uh, maybe, one day?”

Hulk frowned at the accusation and nodded. Thor sighed and the situation felt less hefty.

“Hulk let Banner come back tomorrow, okay? But Hulk and Thor first,” Hulk said in a near whisper, a voice Thor was hearing for the first time, and Thor’s breath caught when it hit him, soft and crackling like a hiss of a dying fire. It was a surprise to neither of them when Thor was pulled into the crevice between Hulk’s legs and their lips crashed like a spray of ocean into each other.

The guilt still covered Thor, but it was being eaten up by his excitement. He squeezed his thighs together in some last ditch attempt to stop him from falling down this hole again, but he had been thinking about Hulk’s cock inside him for two weeks and his member was like a dagger jabbing his leg. He was little more than a pulsing mass of flesh that hungered for the dark and full taste of Hulk, and Bruce’s well-being had slipped far, far, back in his mind.

“Unghh, fuck, Hulk, please, take me,” Thor groaned. He rutted himself against the point of Hulk’s knee. Hulk hissed and hummed, playing out a rhythm with his puffs of air into Thor’s hair.

“Thor go here,” Hulk moaned and Thor gave over to Hulk’s force as he moved into the V of Hulk’s legs. Hulk ripped off the bits of torn scraps of Bruce’s pants and Thor’s chest plummeted forward when he was level with the twitching of Hulk’s dick. The ship rattled him forward and his hand was on it.

“Ooh, I . . .” Thor didn’t finish whatever his train of thought was driving towards. He buckled at his waist and stretched his lips into a vice grip around the head of Hulk’s cock. It was pulling him too tight, tight enough that he fretted for the briefest moment his mouth might crack at the edges. But, he wouldn’t, he affirmed to himself, and in the heat of this, in the euphoria that was the challenge of Hulk, found he would allow himself to crack.

Hulk rocked his head back and forth across his shoulders and Thor tracked the motion, rolling his tongue over the slit of the head. Hulk shivered under Thor’s palms.

Thor had decided that this was what he wanted, constantly. He wanted his limits pushed while Hulk moaned and he rubbed himself raw. He wanted to be a whore for this cock, for all the parts of Hulk’s warm and muscled and strained and yet so, so sweet form. Thor dipped down further on the shaft, enhancing his moans to ridiculous proportions, because he needed it to reach Hulk and seep into his ears until his soul could feel Thor’s desperation.

They were animals here, stripped of their context and all of Thor’s problems and Bruce's anxiety and Hulk's danger, and they were just two creatures grinding against each other. They were base and primal, and that fact was making Thor delirious as he yanked on his cock. Hulk splattered in and across Thor, Thor following a moment or two after, and they both slipped back from each other.

Thor licked across his lips and sucked in Hulk’s seed. It was bitter at first but as Thor swallowed it down, it was sweet on his throat. He looked up under his lashes at Hulk, who was panting with a grin. They blinked at each other for a moment, and then Thor was hoisted up and over the rim of the bed to land upon Hulk’s wide barrelled chest. Thor rested his head down, wondering as he rattled in the bed  if he needed to get back to the hull and assist, but then, giving in, he shut his eyes, and he guessed they were cuddling. He liked it more than he would have expected to.

They didn’t bother with cleaning up after, as there was some satisfaction in staying sticky and soiled together. They slept in the blanket of their stench of sex, one of Thor’s more sound sleeps recently.

When he woke up to Bruce, he removed himself without a word, and when they saw each other in the meeting, when Thor saw Bruce’s gentle grin and tired eyes, last night was moot.

(I know RDJ is in Weird Science shhhhh he's just Tony's doppelgänger) 

ps yes they have watched dumbo together it was the first film they watched

COMMENT

[pjbehindthesun]

chapter 12: pigtails, pictures, and patches

Saturday, October 13, 1990

“So you guys are seriously playing a show? How in the hell are you gonna pull that one off, you’ve been a band for all of five minutes, it’s fucking ridiculous.”

“See, this is what I missed, Red – your sweet, generous, unconditional support,” Stone grins and shakes his head at me as we walk up to the basketball courts to meet the rest of the group. We’d decided after a while of hanging out at Potatohead that we were being pretty antisocial, even for us.

“Appeals to conscience only work on people who have them, don’t you know redheads are soulless?”

“What??” he shrieks, turning on the sidewalk and walking backwards in front of me.

“Yeah, we’re born soulless. That’s why we’re so freckled, we get a new freckle every time we steal a soul. Or so Joshua Brockman told me in second grade.”

“Who?”

“Class bully. Used to pick on me nonstop because of my –” I point at my hair and then freckled nose “– situation.”

“Oh, fuck that guy. Little baby Red… I bet you were vicious cute.”

“Oh god no, you have no idea, I was the awkwardest.”

“In stark contrast to your effortless social grace as an adult.” He snickers as he dodges the slap I just aimed at his chest and spins around to walk shoulder to shoulder with me again. “No, really, I bet you were cute, you’ve probably always been a heartbreaker. Little Joshua probably just couldn’t handle all the feelings you gave him. You know, like climbing the rope in gym class…” He pops an eyebrow as I groan in disgust.

“Sweet Christ, man, why don’t you just kill me now and get it over with?”

“Oh come on, Cora, didn’t anyone ever tell you that boys pull on your pigtails to tell you they like you?” He reaches around my shoulder and takes a piece of hair in each hand on either side of my head, tugging lightly.

“I’ll have to remember that highly relevant observation for my next playground interaction.”

Letting go of my hair, he claps me on the shoulders and steers me around the corner, bending over a little to talk right into my ear. “Need I remind you that we are literally going to a playground to watch a bunch of otherwise fully developed adults practically kill each other to try to put a ball through a hoop?”

“Point taken. Anyway, you didn’t answer my question.”

“Which one?” he straightens up and frowns.

“About the show.” We haven’t really gotten to talk about it, which is my fault for avoiding him, but I’ve been genuinely curious. “Doesn’t that seem kinda ridiculous to you?”

“Nah, not really. I mean, Jeff thought I was a little crazy –”

“A little?” 

“– as always, but Mike’s always up for anything, Dave is a little stressed about it, maybe. Eddie didn’t bat an eyelash.”

“Yeah, he seems pretty low-key, you’re lucky to have someone who’s willing to roll with your bullshit.”

“Yeah… he’s alright.”

“Hey, what’s that?” Now I step in front of his path, and he stops dead, giving me a confused expression.

“Stone?” I prompt him after he doesn’t reply.

“What?”

“You don’t like him, do you?”

His shoulders drop and he rolls his eyes to the back of his skull. “It’s not that I don’t like him, Jesus… I just don’t know him yet…”

“But you’re galloping off to play a show with him as your new singer…”

“I’m not galloping anywhere, for the record,” he snaps.

“No?” I poke him in the ribs to try to get him to smile, clucking at him like a horse. “Stoney Pony?”

“God you’re a brat,” he groans, but at least he’s laughing again. “No, Ed’s fine, I guess, just… it’s so hard to have a good feel for what direction we’re going to go in, he sounds so different from anyone else I’ve heard that like, I’m not even sure how good he is…”

“Oh come on.”

“No, okay, he sounds good, but he’s so shy, and… I don’t know… how’s he going to be on stage? I kinda want to rip the band-aid off and figure that out, which is what this show’s about. You never got to meet Andy, you don’t know what kind of…” he trails off, shaking his head a little as he fishes for his words. “But like, you’ve seen Chris on stage, you know how incredible he is. I really just want Chris Cornell, is what it is.”

“So go pull on his pigtails then, man,” I tease, “but give Eddie more of a grace period. I bet he’ll warm up.”

“Hope you’re right.”

“Usually am.”

He shakes his head with a lopsided smile but doesn’t say anything. He’s still looking out in front of us, so I take the opportunity to watch his face a little bit without getting made fun of. I really missed this. Just goofing off, or talking about random shit, listening to each other’s problems and offering half-assed solutions… it was less than a week, but it felt like a year. Why is it so hard for me to talk to him about what happened? That’s all he wanted me to do, just tell him what happened.

“Everything’s okay now, you know… with Alex…”

“Jesus, Cora,” he waves me off, “you don’t have to tell me, we handled that…”

“Well, okay, but I want to. It meant a lot to me, what you did. Helping me out. You deserve to know what happened.”

He raises his eyebrows. “You don’t owe me shit.”

“But I’m okay, okay?”

“Okay,” he smiles a tiny bit.

“I mean, it’s not perfect, Alex and me, but… I think it’s going to be okay.”

He looks forward again and nods. I’m not sure why I feel compelled to keep talking about it, but I do.

“He was really sorry, you know. He just forgot, is all it was.”

“Sure.”

“No, really, he felt terrible!”

“Good,” Stone says a little loudly before dropping his voice back to a normal volume, still staring ahead of us, “you… you deserve to be with someone who treats you like you matter to them.”

“He does…”

“Good,” he says again, finally looking down at me and swallowing hard. I feel like I need to change the subject, fast.

“I bet you were a cute kid too, Stoner.”

“Oh, impossibly so.”

“And so humble. So, who pulled your pigtails back then?”

He chuckles, “girls don’t do that shit if they have a crush, I don’t think. They’re subtler. And anyway, I didn’t have pigtails to pull.”

“What, you expect me to believe this impressive scrunchie collection is a recent development?” I pluck at the example around his wrist.

“Two sisters, you do the math,” he explains with a boyish smile that somehow shows me exactly how he must have looked as a kid. I stop in my tracks again to consider it, and he pauses too, looking puzzled.

“Yeah, you must have been cute. Those big eyes, and… you’ve got this, uhm…” I reach up and pinch his bottom lip in my thumb and forefinger, “…this little divot in your lip… see this, cute…”

He’s watching me with a strange, frozen look on his face that makes me feel I’ve gone way too far. I let go of his lip and he bites it in automatically, blinking slowly.

“Guess it all went downhill from there, huh Stoner?”

A smile breaks over his face. “Oh you’re in such deep shit…” he reaches out to tickle my ribs but misses as I break into a run. He’s faster, so just as we’re rounding the corner to the basketball courts, he catches up to me and loops one arm around my waist, lifting me off the ground and torturing me until we hear a familiar voice shouting at us.

***

“You fuckers finally decided to come play?” Chris yells, and I give up on tickling Cora now that I realize we have an audience. Whoops… everyone on the court – my entire band, plus Chris and Lucy – is staring at us. Cora swats at my shoulder and leaves me behind to jog over to our friends, and I follow suit.

“How about it, Stone?” Chris calls again.

“You know I’m above this ridiculous display,” I scoff.

“That’s a pretty lofty way to say you haven’t played with us since the last time you scored on your own basket,” Mike fires back, making Cora burst out laughing. Well, there goes that shred of dignity.

“What about you, Smokey?” Chris sets an arm around her shoulder. “You play?”

“Gross, sweat pit,” she wrinkles her nose and he grins evilly. “Is there room in this game for the vertically challenged?”

Eddie laughs this time. “Hey, you’re not much shorter than Muggsy Bogues, and I’m not much taller…”

“Fair point. How’s the wound, Ed?”

He holds up his left hand, which I’ve just noticed has a giant bandage wrapped around the thumb. “Coagulating nicely, thanks.” What the fuck are they even talking about?

“Yeah, so I’m gonna sit this one out, I’m not going to miss the Red Devil’s pickup league debut,” I interject.

“Come on, Stone, then the teams aren’t even,” Jeff complains.

“Nah, I’ll sit out,” Chris offers, shoving the ball into Cora’s hands. “Smokey, you’re with Dave and Mike, you’re playing the undefeated combination of Eddie, Jeff, and Lucy.”

As Chris parks next to me on the bleachers, I watch the teams huddle or whatever it is teams do. “Oh come on, Chris, can’t you make the lovebirds play on separate teams? Where’s your sense of mischief?”

“Yeah, we tried that,” he explains under his breath, “but if Lucy and Jeff are on opposite teams, it devolves into a game of grab-ass.”

I snort loudly enough that the noble athletes look up to see what’s wrong with me, but Chris helps me create the appearance of nonchalance.

“Speaking of grab-ass,” he continues in a low voice, “what’s going on with you and Cora?”

“What do you mean?” I sputter, maybe a little too loudly, although this time the game has started so no one looks over.

“What do you mean, what do I mean? I saw that,” Chris nods over at the street corner we just came from, and my stomach does a back flip. 

“She called me ugly, man, I had to defend myself.”

“Oh sure,” he says with mock sincerity. “Just be careful, man… she’s not exactly available.”

“Mmm.” I pretend to be too distracted watching the game to reply, but in reality, I’m too busy thinking about how Cora’s apparently available enough to tug on my lip.

***

Wednesday, October 17th, 1990

“Hey, you need some help?”

I’ve been trying to key into Jeff’s apartment for a good thirty seconds now and swearing under my breath as I juggle the first stack of shit I’m unloading from my truck. I own almost nothing, how do I have such heavy boxes? I look up from the lock and see Cora walking my direction from the stairwell.

“Yeah, uh, sure,” I grumble, letting her take the keys out of my hand as I fix my grip on the leaning tower of crap.

“There you go,” she grins as she opens the door. “Is there more where that came from? I can give you a hand, I was just getting home from the lab anyway.”

Man, normally I would say I can handle it myself, but I’m so fucking exhausted after that drive that I could really use the help. I set my boxes down inside and nod, and she drops her bag on the couch to follow me back down to my truck. We empty it slowly over a few trips without saying much.

“So how long a drive is it from San Diego?” she finally asks as we gather up the last load, peering at me. I kinda wish she wouldn’t… this girl’s sweet and easy to talk to, but I’m feeling a little rundown and I’m not sure how friendly I can be under the circumstances.

“Oh, 20 hours or so.”

“So it took you a couple days, then? Where did you stop?”

“No, no, uh,” I frown at the milk crates of records she’s stacking in my arms, “I did it straight through.”

“What?? Are you crazy? How does that even work?”

I can see she’s not going to let me get away with being the silent type today. I sigh, “ahh, a buddy gave me something to help me stay up so I wouldn’t have to stop.”

She raises one eyebrow. “So you speed-drove your way up here?”

“Yeah?” I wince, not really sure how this person I hardly know will react to such a dumb fuckin’ idea.

“Huh, okay, Neal Cassady,” she says, sticking her tongue in her cheek. “You probably feel like hell right about now, huh?”

“Affirmative.”

She nods. “Okay, let’s get this shit upstairs and get you a beer, that’ll help.”

My chest floods with gratitude as I follow her upstairs, nervously watching this tiny person carry a stack of boxes taller than she is, but she somehow manages to maneuver the entire load in the door. It’s only when she uses her foot to nudge the door closed behind us that the shoebox on top slips off and falls open on the ground.

Of course. Of course it would be that fucking box.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry…” her face turns white as she sets down the rest of my things as carefully as she can, but I’ve beaten her to it and am already gathering up the pieces with shaking hands.

The pieces I have left of us. Of her. Pictures, letters, postcards, ticket stubs, little trinkets that have no intrinsic value other than the inside jokes or sentimental occasions I collected them for.

“Eddie, no offense, but you look like shit, let me help,” she says gently as she drops to her knees and collects a pile of Polaroids that splayed out across the rug. Bunch of random snapshots of what felt like normal, happy moments at the time. Blurry, sun-spotted, totally ignorant.

“Thanks,” I say, leaning back and sinking against the closed door with my eyes closed. Ordinarily I’d be more protective of those belongings, except they don’t bring me much of a sense of belonging anymore. Or maybe I’m just really tired. The speed was definitely a dumb idea. Anyway, Cora seems too determined to clean up the mess to do any snooping.

A few minutes later, I open my eyes to see her sitting next to me, handing me an open beer. I raise it and nod in thanks, taking a long drink. She opens another one for herself and takes a small sip. She was right, it really does help.

“Thanks, uhm… you get it, right? Everyone’s got one of those boxes somewhere…”

She furrows her brow. “I don’t. I mean I get the concept, I just don’t have one.”

“Break-up box? I thought it was a standard requirement.”

She gives me a pained look. “Well, I mean, I’ve never broken up with anybody…”

“Lucky you,” I mutter into my beer can.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. You didn’t break up with me.”

She drops her eyes back to her beer, because what on earth is she supposed to say to that? Great, Vedder, just great.

“I’m sorry, I just… it was a bad few days. I had to go to her place to get some of my shit before the move. Last few things I’d left behind, you know… well, I guess you don’t…”

“Did you just break up?” she asks softly, still not looking up.

“Yes and no. I mean, not just now. It happened before I came up here the first time. Part of why I even considered Stone and Jeff’s offer, honestly. Things were already ending, so why not.”

“You or her?”

“Her. Beth. Uhm, if that’s what you mean. She was the one who called it off. We…” I don’t even know why I’m telling her any of this, except that she’s not pushing me for answers and it’s kind of nice to have someone who will listen. “…we’d been together a long time. A really long time. Seven years. I don’t know if you know what that’s like… well, maybe it’s different for everybody, it must be, because she and I saw it differently… I’m probably not making any sense…”

“More than you realize.”

“Well, I guess the way she saw it, all that time together was a negative. Said she wanted to see other people, said we were ‘too young and stupid to know if this was really it,’ that we ‘needed more life experience.’ I don’t even know what that means. I would have been fine with that being it. I thought it was,” I laugh a little, although it’s not funny. I’m just so delirious that it makes even less sense to me right now than it usually does, despite how many times I’ve replayed it in my head. I take another drink, hoping it will steady me because I feel like fainting, and then close my eyes and lean back again.

“I’m sorry, Eddie.” Her voice is really quiet.

“And she didn’t even say it in person, she called me to tell me. So seeing her again the other day,” I go on, feeling like the tap’s open now so I might as well let it out, “she just looks so… so happy. So okay with it. She was just like, ‘see you round, Ed,’ like I’m just some other guy now, some nobody, not the person she used to talk about spending the rest of her life with. How does that work?”

“I don’t know how it works, but that’s bullshit,” she says, sounding a little more assured. “Obviously it’s a big deal, after so many years! I mean, I don’t know her, and I barely know you, but sharing that much time with someone, it’s not a ‘see you round’ sort of thing. You don’t need someone in your life who’s so flip with your feelings.”

I squint over at her, trying to figure out how she put her finger on it that fast. That feeling that I was the only one in it for keeps, that Beth was always a little more careless about the whole thing. The kind of feeling that gnaws in the back of your mind, and which I ignored for too long, hoping it was just my insecurity and not the truth. But Cora’s not looking at me, she’s still regarding her beer can, so I go on.

“Well. At least it happened quick. At least I’m on the other end of the country.”

“Yeah. I think that’s probably good. New start, new home.”

“Right. So, no break-up box in your place, huh? Congratulations on that,” I try for a smile.

“I don’t know about that,” she hedges, “but no. I was a late bloomer, you could say.”

“So you and Alex, that’s it?”

“That’s the idea.”

Isn’t it always, I want to say, but I don’t. Just because my relationship fell apart to shit doesn’t mean everyone’s will. I cast around for a new topic to keep myself from saying anything so unbelievably dour, and I notice her bag sitting on the couch. Oh yeah, I was going to ask about that.

“Hey, uhm, what’s the deal with the flag?”

Her eyebrows pull together and she half-smiles. “Like, Old Glory? The thirteen original colonies? Wh–”

“Shit, no,” I laugh, “sorry. Train of thought. The patch, the one on your bag.”

She glances over at where I’m pointing. “Oh… what about it?”

“Nothing, I guess, I just remember… didn’t you say you’d had it the longest out of all those buttons and things? What’s the story?”

“It’s a long one,” she muses.

“Where am I going?” I chuckle, shaking the mostly full beer can. “I mean, if you want.”

She bites her lips in and frowns over at it. “Okay, well, it’s from 1976.”

“That’s it? You had me going, I thought it was a long story.”

“Ha, well, that’s the short version. You look like maybe stamina’s in short supply for some long, rambling pointless story about a stranger.”

“I think that’s exactly what I need right now. Spill.” I elbow her.

“Uhm, well, there’s not much more to it than that, my dad took me to Washington DC for my eighth birthday that year so we could go to the Earth Day march. I begged him,” she laughs at the floor. “Weird kid.”

“Cool kid,” I correct her, nodding for her to go on.

“You’re the second person to be very wrong about that recently, you know that?” she looks up with a straight-faced expression but eyes that seem to be laughing. “Anyway, I grew up in this tiny little shit town, like, classic Appalachia…”

“You don’t sound like it,” I mumble before mentally kicking myself for interrupting her like an asshole.

“Yeah, well, that takes practice. Anyway, my dad, he was this total outlier in our town, rode a bike everywhere and constantly got run off the road by trucks, collected rainwater for the garden, never wanted to throw anything out if it could be used again… sort of a misplaced hippie. And he used to talk about this new environmental movement, this pushback against all the treachery and death that humans visit on the earth just by being here, just by living the way that we do, in all of our greed, and how important it was to take that stand for the earth. So, one birthday, I asked him if we could go see it.”

“And that’s where you got that patch?”

“Yeah. We rode a Greyhound up to DC, and I… I had a little shirt he’d drawn on, it said “Let Me Grow Up,” and there was a sea of people all over the National Mall. It was so inspiring. I rode on his shoulders – I was a tiny kid…”

I decide not to interrupt her this time, but I want to point out that not much has changed.

“Anyway, it was a big deal to me at the time. It changed a lot for me. It’s kind of why I went into ecology myself, uhm, that’s what I’m going to school for, in a way.”

Oh, so that’s the scientist thing. I’d meant to ask her about that too. “Sure. Your dad sounds really cool.”

“Yeah.”

“So did you guys ever go again, or what?”

“Well, no. He left us not long after that.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. I haven’t seen him since that year, I don’t even know if he’s still alive.”

Again, just fantastic work, Vedder. Distract from your pain by wading into someone else’s. “Shit, I’m sorry…”

“No, it’s okay, that was a long time ago. That memory, those parts of him, that’s just one of the really good things I get to hold onto, I guess. Which is why I stuck it on that bag. He’s not as big of a part of my life as he used to be. My brother – I’ve got a brother, he’s a few years younger than me – he doesn’t even really remember him, which sometimes I think is for the best, but sometimes…”

She seems to think better of whatever she’s about to say, and I feel like I’ve already pried into her private life enough, so I keep quiet. I know something about what she’s trying not to say. Even if our situations sound different in some ways, I hate it for her that we can relate. I finish my beer in silence.

“You have any siblings?” she asks, clearly hoping to change the subject.

“Mm,” I nod, “three little brothers. Younger brothers, I should say, since they’re all like 6 foot 3, and I’m like 4 foot 2.”

“I feel that,” she laughs, stretching her legs out across the rug. “My brother’s a giant too, it’s like all the height genes skipped me.”

“You see him often, or –” a yawn I can’t stifle interrupts my sentence, and she gives me an appraising look.

“You really need to sleep, bud.” She stands up and looks around Jeff’s kitchen, holding out her empty can. “Recycling?”

“Uh, I don’t know, doesn’t look like it.”

“Here, I’ll take them, I have a bin,” of course she does. She reaches out for my empty too. “You gonna be okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine, you’re right, I just need to try and sleep. Hey, thanks again…”

“Anytime, Eddie. Welcome home.”

“Right,” I grin. She waves as she ducks out my front door and down the hallway to her own, and although I’m still exhausted just looking at the pile of shit I now have to unpack, I have to admit, it all looks a little lighter.

***

Jesus, poor Eddie, he’s in really rough shape. It must hurt so badly to watch something you’ve been so invested in for so many years evaporate, and feel like the person you were invested with doesn’t even care. I wasn’t going to say it, because I didn’t want to inject myself into his problems, but it’s a fear I’m familiar with.

From the hallway, I can hear the phone ringing in my apartment, so I key in quickly to try and grab it. But Alex is home, and he beat me to it. He’s standing next to the couch and listening to whoever it is with his forehead deeply lined. His eyes bore into me the moment I walk in. Shit. Shit. What’s going on?

“Yeah, I mean, absolutely… hey man, she just got home, let me just put you on with her so you guys can talk about it…”

I grab the receiver from his outstretched hand as quickly as I can, holding it to my ear, feeling paralyzed. Before the person on the other end of the line even says anything, I have a feeling I know who it is. I hear a sniffle.

“Patch?”

“C? …can I come stay out there a while?”

[charlinert]

As Easy as Falling 44/?

New Chapter of As Easy As Falling….

Summary:  Felicity Smoak had everything figured out until tragic news causes her to rethink her life. As part of dealing with tragedy she embraces her adventurous side in the form of skydiving. Will love be waiting for her between the clouds or will she let tragedy keep her away from falling.

Read from the BEGINNING AO3

***************

CHAPTER 44

The drive back to the lodge is the worst kind of torture. The silence in the atmosphere is so thick you can cut it with a knife. No one says a word and she doesn’t dare look at Oliver. Even if she did, his gaze is transfixed on the bush flying by the window of the ambulance, he wouldn’t even notice her.

Once they reach the lodge Oliver makes sure Felicity is comfortable and helps the paramedics to get her settled in their room, but then he disappears again to where she can only guess is to have a final chat with the paramedics about her condition.

She knows she was wrong to keep this from him and no matter how she wants to justify her actions there’s just no way that ‘sorry’ is going to make this all go away.

Her brain tries to whip up every possible scenario and response to his potential questions but she’s in no way prepared for when he finally walks through the door of their room. He completely ignores her and stares at the river from their patio.

She can feel her heartbeat increasing and she knows she has no other alternative. She needs to do this ‘band aid style’. Face this head on and bear the consequences of her actions. All of this is happening because of her choices, so she needs to woman up and take it, hopefully the solution will come to her while she’s ripping off this proverbial band aid.

“Oliver,” she softly says his name and attempts to get off the bed to join him on the patio.

“Felicity, please stay in bed.” he nearly bites off, still not looking at her.

At least she knows he’s angry now. She has something to work with.

“Look Oliver, I’m really sorry. I didn’t intend to lie to you….I just didn’t want you to worry until….”

“But you did Felicity. You lied! And not just once apparently, numerous times and straight to my face!”

He turns around and his face is a mixture of anger and disappointment and that breaks her heart. The anger she can handle, but disappointment, especially when she’s the cause….that’s a whole other ball game.

“How are we supposed to build a life, make our marriage work when you keep on reverting back to doing things on your own? What else have you been keeping from me?”

“Okay Oliver I know you’re upset, but I think you’re being a bit unfair right now.”

“Unfair? Unfair?! Felicity, unfair is when you’re on your honeymoon with your wife, supposedly in remission from Colon cancer, just to find out that she’s been lying to you about not actually being in remission and nearly passing out in a hot air balloon kilometres from the ground. Unfair is having to handle a situation that you have no control over or could even prepare for because you are completely blindsided due to your wife keeping vital information from you. You want to talk unfair Felicity….that my dear wife, is unfair!”

She has no words. He’s right. His anger is warranted and all she has is ‘sorry’.

“You’re right. I’m so so sorry Oliver.”

He looks at her with an emotion she hasn’t seen before.

“I can’t be here right now.” he admits and walks towards their door.

“Please don’t go Oliver.” his actions sparking a fear she’s buried for years or has she?

“I’ll come back Felicity, but right now I need space….away from you.”

He leaves before she can say anything else and she stares at the closed door feeling the soft tears make their way down her cheeks.

XXXxxxXXXxxxXXX

Her heart is in a million pieces and she has no more tears to cry. It’s been hours since he left and she knows she needs to give him his space but couldn’t he just send her a sign that he’s okay? She’s worried out of her mind as her imagination concocts every worst case scenario known to mankind. He is alone, in a Game reserve where wild animals roam freely. This isn’t a zoo! Wild animals are wild and unpredictable and even though she loves these animals she loves her husband more despite the fact that she messed up their honeymoon.

“Well done Felicity! Your first fight as a couple and not just anywhere…on your honeymoon for goodness sake! What a great wife you are turning out to be.” she mumbles to herself.

She decides to move her pity party out of bed. Watching the ceiling isn’t helping her find a solution, it’s making everything worse. She puts on her bathing suit and takes out a bottle of iced water from the mini fridge in their room. She puts on the motor and gets into their private Jacuzzi on the patio. Maybe the bubbles and the relaxing view will help open her mind and find a solution to this colossal mess she’s created.

After a few minutes she sighs in frustration. There’s really nothing she can do to make this better. She has no other choice but to ride this wave, if only they can talk this out.

She hears the door open and she remains as still as possible, turning on her super hearing to figure out what’s happening inside their room. She hears the closet door opening and closing and rustling of clothes.

Her already bruised heart nearly stops beating when her thoughts introduce a new possibility. He’s packing and leaving her here all alone. She can feel the tears sting behind her now dried out eyes as she keeps listening for his movements.

She hears the fridge door open and close and mere seconds after he turns the corner in his swimming trunks carrying a bottle of iced water and wordlessly joins her in the Jacuzzi.

She is instantly relieved but in the same breath absolutely terrified about the conversation looming between them. At least she knows he is safe and that gives this very dark cloud a bit of a silver lining.

He stares out into the distance, still not saying anything and she decides to remain quiet too. When he’s ready to talk, she’ll be here and answer anything he asks. This is the only way to work through it….honesty….the irony hasn’t escaped her.

“I’m sorry I left.” he finally breaks the silence but he still doesn’t look at her.

She’s not sure if she should answer or not so she remains silent, looking at him from the corner of her eye.

“We’re quite the pair huh?” he jokes and she can’t help it but look at him curiously, waiting for an explanation when he gives her a sad smile. “I run and you go solo. We’re so used to our default ways of doing things that we don’t realise how much we’re actually messing each other up.” he explains.

“Oliver, I’m really sorry. I was going to tell you.”

“That’s not the point Felicity. Whether you were going to tell me or not, you kept this from me. This information wasn’t something like buying a puppy without telling me, this is your life, your health. I get why you didn’t tell me, really I do, but it doesn’t change the fact that I could have handled things differently today if I knew.”

“Felicity, the day we got married I made you a promise that I would take care of you and by keeping things from me, you make me fail at that promise.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know you are and I want you to know that I’m sorry too.”

“What for? It’s not like you caused our first fight as a married couple and to make this even more interesting as only I can….on our honeymoon.” she tries to lighten the mood but he’s still dead serious.

“For leaving when I should have stayed and worked this out with you. Just like you I also have a default. When things get too much, I run and I realised that little fact about fifteen minutes after walking out of our bedroom door.”

“So where did you go?”

He shyly smiles at her and admits, “nowhere.”

“Nowhere? But you were gone for hours?”

“I sat in front of our bedroom door until I heard you switch on the Jacuzzi. I couldn’t bear coming in immediately, so I waited until I thought you had settled.”

“So you sat outside our door for hours? Why?”

“My stupid pride. I stormed out of here wanting to prove a point and once I got outside I realised what an incredible idiot I am, but then I felt so guilty I didn’t know how to face you.”

“Yeah, you are definitely right….we’re quite the pair.” she laughs shaking her head.

“Felicity,” he takes her hand and wraps it between his two strong palms, earnestly looking at her. “I need you to know that I’m never going to leave you. I am fully committed to you and to our marriage and it doesn’t matter how angry I might get, or disappointed, I’m here to stay okay?”

She gives him a watery smile and nods in acknowledgement.

“But beautiful, we can’t keep doing what we’re doing. We need to start trusting each other if we want our marriage to work. Even if it means moving out of our comfort zones. Are you willing to do that?”

“Yes.” she says without having to think twice. “Yes I am and I’m so so sorry.”

“It’s okay.” he says and pulls her closer to him, giving her a kiss on the crown of her head, “we’re going to be okay.”

She lays her head against his shoulder and gives a sigh of relief.

“So, at least we survived our first fight as a married couple.”

“Yeah, so we did.” he responds and stares out in the distance again. “But you know what they say about fights right?”

“No, what?” she curiously asks.

“After each fight there’s an opportunity for make-up sex.” he explains a-matter-of-factly.

“Really now?”

“Mmmhmmm.”

“Well then Mr Queen, what on earth are we waiting for?”

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[build-em-up]

@find-a-health-kit cont. from [x]

As the Doctor spoke words of morbid advice Dell was haughty and dismissive, interjecting occasionally with an irritated ‘uh huh’ or yessirs’ and a giving less than thankful thanks. Dell was only half listening and eager to get back to the work which had been interrupted. For what kind of proper jack o’ lantern couldn’t fully smile? But that was only half the reason. Roderick, in his mind, had been in the right place at the wrong time and most infuriating of all had been right. Again.

Like always.

He took special care not to wince or pull away as Roderick twisted and examined the small cut further, spitefully believing that any sign of weakness would only prove Roderick to be even more right. Entire teams had been blown to pieces daily, fatal wounds stitched up, this was nothing. And yes, they had died, but only sometimes. And the cause was for dirt not because of it. Dell didn’t need a lecture, he needed a solution. And the solution he needed was a band-aid, and that Dell was sure of. Patience would have to be learned over a long period of time, and time was not today. So, at first he glazed over Rodericks words and rushed to the solution at hand.

“We best get right on that amputa–” Amputate. As the entirety of the Doctors word caught full attention, suddenly the sting of his cut didn’t hurt as much. Pulling his cut hand away from Roderick, again he twists his hand away, holding again close to himself.

“–What?”