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woniverse-writes · 1 year ago

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"Moth to a Flame (part 6)"

Bada Lee x Reader

part 5 ⟵ part 6 ⟶ part 7

series masterlist

summary: y/n l/n is the youngest team member of Jam Republic, competing in the second season of Street Woman Fighter. she’s got the sweetest smile and the most vibrant personality, but she also may or may not be the biggest hothead on the show when it comes to defending her teammates. apparently that’s attractive to Bada Lee.

word count: 12k

warnings: swearing, angst, mentions of depression anxiety disorder, mentions of medication, not proofread, nothing i write is a reflection of anyone's true character and is a work of total fiction

It had been almost a week since the interim mission check. Almost a week since 1 million was estimated to place first. A week since Jam Republic began preparing themselves for elimination. A week since Bada and Y/n fought… a week since the two had last spoken.

After the screaming match between the two girls and y/n making her exit with a slam of team Bebe's dressing room door, the younger headed to her own dressing room bawling her eyes out. Her teammates didn't immediately question anything as she stormed in and began to aggressively pack up the few things she had brought back for the day. Audrey made her way over to place a gentle hand on her shoulder

"y/n-" but was immediately swatted away by the still-crying girl. y/n immediately turned around with regret written all over her face

"I'm so sorry- I didn't- I didn't mean to push you away" she sobbed with wide eyes, shaking her head, trying to convince her friend that she didn't mean it, but Audrey already knew that. Audrey knew Y/n.

"hey, hey! It's okay, I know you didn't mean to…" she comforted the girl, bringing her into a hug. This time the younger girl let her friend wrap her in a warm hug. She buried her face in Audrey's chest and bawled her eyes out until she felt too tired to carry on.

"Is something else bothering you lovey?" Kirsten asked gently from somewhere in the corner. Y/n looked up slightly confused, which is when she realized they had no idea what just happened. She began to cry all over again, this time just weeping exhaustedly. I don't even think you could call it crying- more so just her looking sad as tears freely ran down her face. It took her a few minutes before she could even begin to explain, but when she did it wasn’t any easier.

“I got into an argument with Bada… well- it was actually a really bad fight, and- and I totally fucked everything up” Poor girl could barely finish her sentence, as she hiccuped her way through it before she started sobbing and heaving again. Everyone in the room shared looks of shock and confusion, all rushing closer to comfort their youngest. Audrey already had her hand rubbing circles softly on Y/n’s back while Emma sat on the other side rubbing her shoulder, and the oldest three kneeled/sat in front of her.

“I’m so sorry my sweet girl… do you wanna tell us about it?” Kirsten being the wonderful leader and friend she is, did not hesitate one second before openly trying to comfort y/n. The youngest sniffled and hiccuped a bit more while trying to nod.

“Y-yeah, just give me a-a few minutes, p-please” y/n shakily pleaded as her sobs picked back up. After about ten minutes of crying, she was pretty sure there was nothing left in her. Latrice had gotten up to get her water a few minutes ago and now was forcing her to drink it seeing as y/n had been able to calm down.

“Take your time baby, you don’t have to tell us everything- you don’t even have to tell us anything if you don’t want to!” Ling reassured her little bestie and made sure y/n still remembered how safe she was with Jam Republic.

“No, it’s okay- I want you guys to know… I just- I don’t even know where to start or how to retell this…or if I even have the energy to do so right now…” the youngest countered, wanting just to tell her members what happened and get it out of the way so she could begin suppressing it, but her eyes began to droop and her voice got soft, both being immediate signs of her exhaustion. And on any other day, or in any other situation her members would find it quite endearing, but they can’t help but feel crushed at the sight.

“Why don’t we finish packing- after the flight, you’ll have rested a bit, and if you’re feeling up to once we’ve landed you can explain the whole situation to us then. If not, that’s okay too.” Latrice gently spoke up, reminding everyone that they had a flight to leave for in just under an hour and a half. Y/n sniffled and nodded, slowly standing up. Everyone immediately backed away slightly to give her enough space, then watched as she lifelessly moved around the space, finishing packing her things. It sincerely shocked them to see her this way, thinking it was already pretty bad how she was acting before they showed up- and that was when they WEREN’T paying attention to her. Y/n was never good at hiding her feelings unless it was when she was dancing or performing- when she was putting on a show- so to see her so sluggish and empty really scared the five other members of Jam Republic.

“This is going to be a long, hard fucking week…” Emma noted, the others either nodding or tiredly humming in agreement.

________________

“Do you wanna talk about any of it?” Lusher tried her best not to pry- not that she would've had to pry much anyway since she heard the whole thing- but she wanted to hear how Bada was feeling with the aftermath. The leader just sighed deeply once again with her elbows resting on her knees, hunched over as she laid her head in her hands.

Bada felt nauseous. She felt dizzy, like the room was spinning and her ears were ringing. To be completely honest, there was a possibility she would pass out at any moment. None of what had just happened in the last- what? 20 minutes? Was it longer than that? Hell, was it shorter? Bada really had no clue, but none of what had happened in that time felt real to her.

“I don’t know Lusher…” the leader finally mumbled, still hunched over. It was quiet and meek, sounding exhausted. The sub-leader glanced around at her teammates whose faces were all some sort of variation of fear or anxiety, She sighed and crossed her arms before speaking up again

“Well, then how about we get some rest? Maybe afterward you’ll want to talk about it, or maybe you won’t- either way, we’ll be here…” She firmly stated, knowing how tired everyone was and how sleep easily played a role in how well they felt. The leader took a huge breath, her members watching had her shoulders rose and fell. Bada stood up with her head still hanging low. The other girls moved out of the way and watched as the oldest started groggily packing up her things and sat back down on the couch with an empty look when she finished.

“I’m ready when you guys are.”

____________

The first day back in New Zealand was just another segment added to the nightmare that Jam Republic has been living in these last few days. Y/n slept the whole plane ride but woke up with a very minor fever and headache. She just chalked it up to crying so much and getting so world up.

“I promise it’s fine Kirsten, I'm probably just dehydrated-”

“Which still isn’t good! Even if that’s the case, it’s not something to treat lightly, y/n. And since I know you’re lying it’s even more serious to me… I need you to try your best to take care of yourself right now love, we need you.” she dragged the youngest over to some airport market and grabbed two waters and a bottle of juice. Kirsten glanced over her shoulder and saw eyeing up some snacks, but didn’t end up grabbing them. When the younger walked away to look at something else, the leader moved to grab whatever she was looking at. The bright colorful packaging with cute designs made her smile. It was obviously a very y/n-like treat- some sort of sweet gummies with a sour sugar coating. She grabbed two of them and got a savory snack as well, knowing how stubborn her youngest is and how hard on herself she can get.

When all of their luggage had been picked up, all six members of Jam Republic headed back to their hotel. y/n lay with her head against the cool glass of the window, not quite asleep but definitely not mentally present. Everyone was already worried from what had happened the previous day, but it seemed like something different was the issue now. Y/n didn’t only seem depressed anymore- she seemed physically ill.

By the time they arrived at their place, Emma was the first to offer y/n help, which she obviously declined. Yet Emma still took her heavier bags, and y/n didn’t even have the energy to complain. The older carried them up for her as she dragged behind the rest of the group. Audrey, noticing how out of it her best friend was, circled back around to meet y/n in the back of the clump

“You not feeling too good, bunny?” the slightly older brunette questioned with eyes full of concern, and a mouth of whatever candy bar she was munching on. Y/n actually felt herself smile a bit at how endearing her friend was. still, she sighed and nodded, which of course Audrey didn’t believe.

“I really don’t get why you feel like you have to lie about it…” the elder mumbled, kicking a rock while they walked. Great, now I made Audrey upset. y/n frowned and sighed deeply

“It’s just easier to deal with it by myself… it’s exhausting having to explain why I feel the way I do, especially when I don’t even understand it half the time… I wanna tell you guys, I promise I do, but it would drag the team down so much, Audrey…”

“Why do you say that? Because we’d have to take time to discuss what’s wrong? Because we’d have to stop working and focus on you for a second?”

“No Audrey it’s not-”

“Oh so then it’s because we care about you and we’d do anything for you in a heartbeat and you don’t wanna accept that you have people that sincerely love you? You don’t wanna accept that you really are a loveable amazing person who doesn’t deserve to be talked to or treated like that?” Audrey pointed off somewhere in the direction they had just come from, seething as she finished. this was the first time y/n had ever seen the girl as angry as she was, but she couldn’t help but feel confused

“How… how do you know what she said?” y/n tilted her head and awaited her friend’s response with said eyes. Audrey hesitated for a second, feeling like she’d said too much, but sighed and began speaking again

“Lusher told Latrice… well- Latrice and me. I still want to hear everything from you though- I want to know how you’re processing all this and how it felt for you because while she seemed neutral, there could just as easily be things Lusher left out in favor of Bada.” she quickly explained, hoping she hadn’t betrayed the other girl’s trust by getting the story from someone else first.

“Lusher didn’t seem… mad? Wait- how does she know? Did Bada really tell them everything already? I mean I guess that makes sense since-” her mumbled external pondering was cut off

“They heard everything…” the older of the two once again spoke hesitantly, unsure of how the other would react. y/n just glanced over, slightly dazed

“Huh?” Audrey let out a breath she didn’t even realize she was holding, then continued explaining.

“Lusher said their entire team was just around the corner while you guys were arguing, and they could hear everything…” she trailed off at the end, cringing slightly at how bad the entire situation was. Y/n sighed and closed her eyes, feeling another wave of headaches coming

“Great, now all of team Bebe hates me…”

“You don’t know that!” Audrey was simply trying to be her optimistic self, and she couldn’t help but giggle when the slightest bit of normal y/n showed through the depression when she gave her older friend an over-exaggerated deadpan look. The two finally reached their shared room and began unpacking the few things they had. After doing so, the girls all quickly washed up and got changed, then headed to practice.

Practice had gone well for the most part- the first half was reworking practically everything and adding more to make the choreography stand out more. The second half was just drilling everything until it was muscle memory, or at least close to it. Everyone could tell y/n wasn’t feeling well. It didn’t show in her dance, but definitely on her face as she looked miserable every time they finished.

“Why don’t you take a break hon-” Emma tried convincing her with a gentle hand on her shoulder, to which y/n loosely pushed it away

“Em, I’m fine” she whined and moaned, tired of having everyone baby her for the day. The older stood there for a moment before sighing and shaking her head, then walking off. The rest of the practice went the same, and everyone finished wrapping things up around 12:45 am.

Later that evening (or morning rather) after practice had ended and all of Jam Republic had returned to their hotel, y/n started throwing up and her fever increased severely, ending her up in the ER at 2 am with Kirsten and Ling, the others being told to stay back and get some rest.

“After running some tests and talking with her, it just seems like a stress fever, which thankfully means there’s nothing physically wrong- well besides some dehydration, but we have her on an IV for right now- However, whatever is causing the girl so much stress should probably be taken out of her life immediately…” the doctor sternly informed the two oldest members of Jam Republic. They both just looked at each other, not really knowing what to do, seeing as their poor baby’s stress was unavoidable right now unless she were to completely drop from the challenge, and maybe even the entire competition as a whole.

“We’re actually a part of a competition right now… we want her to rest but- we need her to be able to compete with us. Is there anything we can do to speed up the recovery?” Ling spoke before her friend could, the desperate tone already taking over her voice. The doctor sighs and takes off his glasses.

“We could try putting her on an anti-anxiety medication to see if that helps… but it really would be the most ideal to let her rest as much as possible in a low-stress environment.”

“A low-stress environment isn’t really possible right now. And- she’s actually already on something for anxiety and depression, would she even be allowed to do that?” at Kirsten’s question the doctor looks slightly confused

“Has she not been taking the medication recently? Because when we ran the tests to see if there was something in her system, we found no traces of drugs, alcohol, or any substances…” The two dancers once again looked at each other, having a silent conversation.

“Would we be able to see her?” the leader asks softly, to which the doctor nods and leads them to y/n’s room. He opens the door and they find her lying there staring off into space, barely awake.

“Hey honey… is it alright if we come in?” Kirsten asked as softly as she could while still wanting the girl to hear her. Y/n nodded wordlessly and closed her eyes. The two oldest Jam Republic members came and sat near her hospital bed and after a few minutes of conversation with the doctor, it was just the three of them in the room.

“Sweetheart…” the leader brushed some hair out of y/n’s face and watched as her eyes fluttered open

“Did you hear any of that?” She finished and furrowed her brows, unsure of how aware of her surroundings the younger was. Y/n shook her head and matched Kirsten’s expression

“They’re gonna keep you here overnight to make sure you get enough hydration before going back, okay?” She kept brushing away stray hairs and petting them down softly against y/n’s head, lulling her to sleep. There was a slight nod of understanding. Kirsten stood up and y/n quickly (as quickly as she could) reached out to grab her hand

“Please stay… at least one of you… can at least one of you please stay with me” the youngest pleaded in a pitiful whisper that made the older two’s hearts break all over again. This girl really was going to be the death of them all

“Of course honey, we’ll both stay” Ling reaches for her other hand pressing a motherly kiss to the back of it

“I’m sorry… for slowing down the process and now dragging you guys into it… you should be getting good rest right now… not here with me… and here I am being selfish by asking you to stay… shocker…” It seemed like y/n was just mumbling whatever was coming to mind, yet tears were once again freely slipping down. Her eyes closed and wet eyelashes fluttered softly against her cheeks as she drifted off. The two sat there in slight shock, a bit taken aback by what she’d said. Both had wanted to say something and let her know how wrong she was- how while yes they should’ve been resting, it was more important to them that she was okay. After a few minutes of silence, Ling spoke up

“Why didn’t you tell her she can’t practice?”

“Because now is not the time to send her into a nervous breakdown… she’s barely even conscious, it’d probably give her a heart attack if I told her she wasn’t allowed to practice” the leader stressed and hung her head for a moment.

“We’re gonna have to ask her about her medication in the morning…” she sighed rubbing her forehead, causing Ling the groan softly so as not to disrupt the sleeping girl a few inches away

The next day Kirsten woke up first and told a half-asleep Ling she was going to grab breakfast for them. When she returned, it seemed the older had been awake for a bit and that y/n had just been waking up. The leader sat in the chair next to the hospital bed and handed everyone their food. y/n thanked her teammate quietly and they all began eating. After a few brief moments of silence and soft chewing, Kirsten spoke up

“So there are a few things we need to talk about…” she mentioned seriously, glancing up at y/n who was staring intensely at her food, but had stopped chewing for the moment.

“...like what?” the younger questioned and went back to cutting up her food to eat more.

“Like why you haven’t been telling us things… we need to know when you aren’t feeling well y/n or else we can’t help you-” Kirsten explained in a worried motherly tone but was quickly cut off

“I don’t want you to have to help me-” the bedridden girl argued tiredly and sighed. There wasn’t any anger and she didn’t raise her voice in the slightest. She was just exhausted.

“I should be able to take care of myself on my own. I’m an adult… i should start acting like one” y/n spoke everything loud and clear until the last phrase. She had mumbled the statement to herself, sinking back into her pillows and wallowing in pity again, but Ling and Kirsten both heard the self-deprecating callout. Every second that passed, the two eldest grew more and more worried about their youngest’s wellbeing

“The doctors said they didn’t didn’t find any traces of anything in your system, which is good, but that also included your meds… did you forget to take them yesterday?” Ling questioned softly rubbing the back of the girl’s hand. Y/n once again goes completely silent, and avoids eye contact with an extremely guilty expression, which has both older members raising an eyebrow.

“Y/n… what’s up?” Kirsten pushed for a response, causing the younger dancer to sigh

“I haven’t been taking them regularly…” Y/n mumbled, fiddling with the blanket that laid over her lap, still avoiding eye contact.

“You haven’t been taking your meds???” “Y/n are you fucking kidding me? Since when?” both members started began outwardly stressing

“...since the second week of filming-”

“THAT WAS THREE AND A HALF MONTHS AGO-”

“Lingy, let’s not yell at her… I’m sure she had a reason…” Kirsten put a hand on her shoulder and the oldest sighed, they both turned expectantly to y/n, who felt immensely small in front of them for the first time in her entirety of knowing the two dancers.

“...they were making me tired” The youngest curled into her and cringed at the excuse, especially after seeing both women’s faces drop into disbelief.

“Are you serious right now?” Ling questioned with a deadpan expression her arms crossed. Y/n bit her lip and continued to play with her fingers.

“y/n…” Kirsten sighed as she closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose

“I started that new medication and it made it impossible for me to do anything! I was barely making it through those battles and the only thing keeping me going was the excitement and adrenaline-” The youngest tried to defend her reasoning but what cut off

“So you thought it was better to just take nothing? Why didn’t you say something to someone, or even just call your doctor and ask to go back-” This was the first time Kirsten even slightly raised her voice at y/n, and it wasn’t even at that point, but the small girl could feel the disappointment radiating off of her team leader, and she felt everything come crashing again.

“Because I didn’t want to go back to the other medication, it did nothing for me- I wouldn’t have switched in the first place if it worked!” she could feel herself getting worked up again, tears somehow still being able to form. She sighed and laid back in the hospital bed, actually crying this time instead of having tears judge freely fall down her face as she stared blankly.

“I know I shouldn’t have stopped taking them… but I just couldn’t do it. I thought I was doing fine…” y/n mumbled, wiping away tears and sniffling, feeling exhausted again.

“Y/n…” Kirsten started after taking a deep breath and hearing the younger girl’s hum of recognition

“You can’t practice.”

“What…” barely came out as a whisper

“You’re too stressed out right now, and your immune system is down… you aren’t eating or sleeping properly and you’re overworking yourself. You are literally killing yourself slowly… and for what? A stupid competition? Some girl?” she tried to keep her tone level and calm, but Kirsten couldn’t help the rise at the mention of the other team leader, hating her in that brief moment for being one of the reasons her poor baby was feeling this way

“If it’s so stupid Kirsten, then why are we here?” Y/n could feel herself getting frustrated again. This was exactly why no one took her seriously, because her team didn’t even take her seriously, or at least that’s what she thought. Kirsten let out what felt like the twelve hundredth sigh within the last 24 hours.

“They’re discharging you in about 20 minutes… you’re allowed to come to practice but it’s recommended that you don’t… the doctors said it’s best to keep you out of high-stress environments right now-“

“Yeah well, do they even know what’s going on?” so many things were happening in the moment. Y/n felt like she was going to combust and throw up and pass out all at once. She’d never spoken to Kirsten like this- fuck she’d never felt frustrated with Kirsten like this.

“Yes y/n, we told them, and they still think it’s best for you to rest… at least for a little while” The leader’s tone was back to gentle, but it sounded just as tired as the younger girl’s. Y/n didn’t say anything as she sat in disbelief. The three sat in silence for the next few minutes until it was time for y/n to be discharged. She signed off on some documents and then the three were off. They decided to head back to the hotel first before meeting the others at the studio, wanting to change and all that since they’d all spent the night at the hospital in their pajamas.

Y/n decided to stay back and get some more rest, finally giving in to her exhaustion. While they were glad she was taking their advice, Ling and Kirsten once again couldn’t help but feel their hearts hurt for their youngest members. It was always hard seeing each other go through tough times, but it usually never lasted this long or became this severe. It felt like there was nothing they could do to help her.

The youngest jam republic dancer napped and rested for about five hours after she had made her return to their hotel. After waking up she showered and got dressed and decided to head down to the studio. When y/n arrived she waved and greeted everyone politely with a gentle smile, shocking everyone at her appearance.

“I thought you weren’t coming today- you said you were gonna rest.” Kirsten separated herself from the group after telling them to keep practicing

“I did rest- but I couldn’t just sit there and do nothing… even if I don’t feel well I should still come and watch to make sure I’m not missing anything” y/n defended her case to the best of her ability, but Kirsten was always right

“No, if you don’t feel well you need to be resting and taking care of your body AND your brain” the leader retorted, teasingly poking the younger girl’s forehead at the end of her sentence to make a point. Y/n cracked the tiniest smile and even though it was barely there Kirsten was proud of herself for at least being able to do that much.

Y/n sat at the front and watched the practice for the remainder of the time, taking notes on everything she saw whether it be strengths or weaknesses, new ideas, or things she felt needed to be changed entirely. The girl was surprisingly calm and didn’t feel any stress while she was observing. That’s pretty much how the rest of that week’s practices went for Y/n until the last three days before filming. She had been begging Kirsten to allow her to get back to dancing and the leader actually almost caved a few times, desperate to perfect the routine, but still stayed strong and insisted she rested.

____________

It had been a week since the two had spoken. By now all the choreography was finished being created, taught, and perfected. The videos were all shot and edited and it was finally the day where all seven teams would present their work to everyone else and the judges. The day when another two crews would be put up for elimination, and once would go home.

Everyone entered the arena one by one, each team taking their designated seat. It was always mindlessly interesting in these situations, where they’d all gather to watch something but not dance because the fashion choices were truly a show of each dancer’s honest character. Y/n looked as elegant as usual with her red, black, and ivory ensemble. She was doing surprisingly well at the moment, having more of an icy glare rather than the empty eyes of depression that had taken over her the last week or so.

Y/n was doing surprisingly well until she wasn't. Jam Republic is seated by the time team Bebe passes by. y/n feels her heart rate pick up as they approach, all of them glancing at her, some glaring, but their leader acted as if she didn't even see the girl and walked right past them with an icy stare.

“Oh, now that’s just fucking mean” Ling scoffed and stared down the team as they took their seats. Everyone was obviously feeling on edge and very nervous about the results, but y/n still looked quite ill. She had recovered for the most part, but she suddenly felt like throwing up again at the interaction with Bebe. She's still so distraught from the fight with Bada a couple of days before, and now the youngest dancer is scared shitless that both of their teams are going to be up for elimination. As much as she wants to avoid the older girl right now, y/n wouldn't be able to live with herself if Bebe got sent home today…

y/n took a sharp breath, biting her lip trying to push back the sudden sting of tears already feeling the anxiety begin to gnaw away at her. Lusher noticed this right as the team took their seats and spoke over her shoulder to their leader.

"you can't keep ignoring her…" the younger prompted after seeing the way Bada pretended y/n didn't exist when they passed by

"excuse me? Who are you to tell me what I can and can't do?" the leader coldly responded, eyeing the girl up and down. Tatter felt a shiver run down her spine at the interaction, already worried about the integrity of her team considering the rest of their practice time felt like a waste as well. She just sighed and tilted her head out of stress.

After the fight between Bada and Y/n happened, and they both went their separate ways alongside their teams, team Bebe began to fall apart. Bada read through the countless criticisms their routine had gotten and didn’t even know where to start. The stress was eating her alive and she tried her best not to let it show. Normally when things got bad, the Bebe leader would talk about it with Y/n, but that obviously wasn’t a possibility right now, which made everything so much worse.

Practices became unbearable due to how irritable the leader had become, often losing patience easily when things didn’t work out how they were supposed to. Any time they’d go on break Bada would sit and rewatch whatever footage had been taken or reread the notes to see what was going wrong. The other six Bebe members sat off to the side getting water, all observing their oldest with immense concern. She still hadn’t opened up about the situation to them, honestly feeling too embarrassed, even though she knew they heard the entire thing. The guilt of it all was eating away at Bada and she didn’t want to admit that.

“She’s gonna have to share the burden with us at some point” Lusher sighed and pushed herself up off the floor, sauntering over to their crew leader and popping a squat next to her

“You haven’t had any water today…” the sub-leader observed while glancing at the taller girl

“You’re seriously keeping track of whether I do or don’t drink water?” it was supposed to come out in a joking manner, but Bada was serious, the sentence coming out flat and irritated. She didn’t look up from the sheets of paper she was looking over when she responded as well, completely focused on fixing the issue that she couldn’t seem to understand.

“Yeah I am- because you’ve stopped taking care of yourself and you won’t let anyone help you” Lusher snapped back, causing Bada to finally look up and meet her harsh gaze. The younger dancer’s arms were crossed and her brows were furrowed, making her look more like a pouty child than an angry adult, but still Bada could feel the frustration radiating off of her. She sighed and stood up, tall stature looming over Lusher for a second before she stood as well.

“Talk to me… this isn’t gonna work if you take everything on yourself” the shorter once again encouraged her teammate to share her troubles. Bada sighed and the two stared at each other for a moment before Lusher turned her head slightly to call out for Tatter. The blonde came bounding over with a somewhat nervous look on her face

“What’s up?” she asked

“You think you’d be able to run things by yourself for a bit?” Lusher questioned in return, causing Bada to cock her head a little, not entirely fond of the idea. But the way the youngest director confidently responds makes her feel a little better about it. The other responds with a quick ‘great’ and a smile, before dragging Bada out of the practice room and slightly down the hall to one of the small dancer lounges.

“Alright- let’s hear it.” Lusher claps her hands together as she sits on the couch and crosses one leg over the other. The leader lets out an amused scoff and shakes her head. She sits down on the other side of the couch and leans on the armrest.

“I just feel stressed about the routine… we’re taking a big risk with what we’re doing and I can’t help but wonder if it’s the right approach…” Lusher eyed her suspiciously, not fully believing the leader

“So it has nothing to do with Y/n?” she tilted her head and raised an eyebrow, the leader huffing at the question

“Well of course it has plenty to do with Y/n- we didn’t exactly leave off on good terms the last time we talked… it’s just more unnecessary added stress that I need to stop thinking about and move past.” Bada finished her reasoning in a reserved manner, looking away from the girl next to her

“Woah- wait- you think that’s really something you should just ignore??” Lusher was genuinely shocked, not used to her leader being so avoidant. Maybe it was her way of trying to remain relaxed and cool, but the younger dancer could see how terribly the whole situation was affecting her friend, and it definitely wasn’t something to just be left alone.

“Well, I have better things to worry about right now than some childish dancer who clearly can’t control her emotions” the shorter girl scoffed completely unamused

“This is coming from the person who blew up on her just as easily- come on Bada, you’ve never been a hypocrite so don’t start now” She couldn’t help but laugh a little at how childish the leader was being without even realizing it

“So you’re taking her side now?” Bada looked pretty offended, telling the other dancer just how serious she was with her question. Lusher sighed deeply

“I’m not taking anyone’s side, but you both were really shitty to each other… neither of you should’ve said the things you said- but by you saying how immature and emotional she is, you’re pretty much saying it all about yourself because you two had the same energy going on…” she tried to explain calmly, which resulted in another immature response from the leader

“I was simply matching her energy-” Bada pouted as she talked, and Lusher usually would’ve found it cute if it were any other situation

“Right, which by your definition was childish and irrational…” the leader scoffed and looked away, playing with her sleeve. There were a few moments of silence

“You know she’s not doing well either…” the sub-leader spoke up after a while

“Yeah? And how would you know?” the taller girl mumbled, still not looking away from her sleeve, finding the loose string much more interesting than the conversation at this point

“Uhm, I asked her?” she posed it as a question, but it was meant in a sarcastic way, pointing out the obvious answer. Bada quickly snapped her head back up to finally look over at the younger girl

“Oh, so you’ve been talking to Y/n?” Lusher sighed again after seeing her friend’s irritated expression make a return

“Of course I have, she’s our friend- well she’s my friend, I don't know what she is to you” she responded softly and sincerely, yet mumbled the last part, causing the leader to scoff for probably the thirteenth time during this conversation

“C’mon Seoyoung, be serious right now- this isn’t the time for your silly little delusions-” Bada tried to joke slightly and steer her away from the door they were about to open

“No, you be serious Bada. you know damn well she’s more important to you than you’d like to admit. If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were practically in love with her.” the older of the two let out a laugh of disbelief at her teammate’s (accurate) accusation

“In love? With y/n? That hilarious Lusher- really funny actually. I’d love to know where your brain comes up with things like that.” her tone was low and sarcastic, becoming mean and condescending, similar to how it was the last time she spoke with Y/n

“Oh don’t fucking talk to me like that- you’re not gonna treat me like I’m an idiot because I know you better than that. Stop putting your insecurities onto the people who care most about you when they’re trying to help Bada” The room went silent and the older stood straight up in her place, eyes softening at the callout. It was strange to hear Lusher talk to her like that, or even hear her talk like that at all. Sure, the girl teased her a lot, but the two had never gotten into a serious back-and-forth argument like this. Bada thought at that moment that maybe she really could be the problem, seeing as how no one else had been getting into screaming matches like she had recently.

“I just don’t understand why she couldn’t just talk to me…” Bada mumbled sadly burying her head in her arms

“Because she was stressed out and hurt… I mean- if my girlfriend voted to eliminate my group, I would be hurt too-” Lusher tried easing the mood with some light teasing

“Seoyoung…” the older girl dramatically glared at her, but both knew the look held no real malice

“Okay my bad- sorry, but you get the point.” she rushed out in turn

“I do, but she said she understood…” the leader once again drifted off, focus going elsewhere

“Okay, and? She can understand your reason and still be upset about it. Especially since there were other things that were probably weighing down on her… you have to remember, we weren’t the only ones who voted to eliminate Jam Republic… EVERYONE voted for them… and since they had already been facing setbacks from the moment they got to New Zealand she was probably struggling a lot-” Lusher tried to help her understand, but Bada wasn’t having it

“yeah, she was struggling but I was too- you didn’t see me taking it out on her did you?” she tried to retort, but was met with Lusher’s immediate response

“but you did take it out on her! Just not immediately…”

“Lusher you saw everything- you know how hard everything was for me-“ and it was true, lusher did see everything, just like she’s seeing it now. She witnessed one of her best friends completely lose her confidence and doubt all of her abilities while keeping it bottled up. But she was the only one who saw.

“Right, but she didn’t, Bada… How is she supposed to know that if you don’t tell her-”

“She didn’t tell me anything!” it felt like an argument was starting again. The older of the two truly not seeing the whole problem, or at least not recognizing her part in it

“Right, but you pushed her to talk about something she didn’t want to share with you- why? I don’t know- but that’s none of my business! YOU need to figure out what went wrong…” Lusher explained from the objective point of view

“I get that, but how is it fair for her to shut me out and then get bitchy with me, but when I do it in return that’s not okay?”

“Oh my god- Bada, it wasn’t okay for either of you to act that way! But your retaliating after pressuring y/n to talk about something she wasn’t ready to talk about seems like your own fault…you were so fucking mean to her Bada- like- the things you said were awful and absolutely not okay!” The younger of the two allowed her voice to increase, finally getting her point across. Lusher watched as Bada’s face softened again, feeling like she finally got through to her, even just a little bit.

“...I know” The older hung her head and covered her eyes, as Lusher sighed and sat down next to her, leaning her head on Bada’s shoulder.

“I know she treated you badly too, what she said wasn’t okay either- but it wasn’t charged like yours was” Bada scoffed and wiped her tears that she didn’t even realize had fallen

“yeah, and how do you know?” she shifted slightly to glance down at the younger girl, but Lusher just kept staring off into the space ahead of them

“Well- maybe at first it was a little bit… but at some point, she had already given up on fighting and just wanted to get out of there… believe me, Bada, she knows how bad she fucked up too…”

That week had been just as terrible for Team Bebe as it had been for Jam Republic. The last day before filming they ended up making drastic changes to really sell the concept, causing everyone to be exhausted the next day, but luckily they were all able to hold off until after filming had finished.

The team now sat in their designated area, everyone carrying a very negative intimidating intense energy, except Lusher who was just exhausted from still having to play the mediator at this point. After all teams have settled in and the production staff is ready to go, Kang Daniel begins recapping the mission for the audience members and announces the first concept shortly after. Deep n Dap’s video was shown first.

Y/n felt another wave of depression rush over her as she watched the video. It was so well organized and put together, and hearing how loud everyone else was cheering for the green team made her feel nauseous all over again. Yet the young dancer was able to preserve her face and not let her anxiety show, although she didn’t make a single sound or expression for the entire video. Once Deep n Dap’s score was revealed the entire team of Jam Republic began to get nervous seeing how high all three directors had scored.

Shortly after, it was Jam Republic’s turn. Kirsten had been asked about their rehearsal process and was only able to get a few words out before she started tearing up. The leader finally showed her tears, and Y/n hung her head holding her breath knowing she'd cry too if she didn't. When the score for Jam Republic’s leader was shown, y/n felt herself genuinely smile for the first time in three days.

Once the video started and everyone was cheering, y/n felt herself start to lighten up a little- but was also still frustrated at the circumstances- seeing as they all had no faith in Jam Republic and now here they are cheering for them. Witnessing how well the video turned out after all their trials and efforts, and how much everyone loved the individual parts really made Y/n feel so much better. It shocked everyone slightly that y/n wasn't showcased or highlighted at all, but they had no problem pointing her out since she still stood out due to her energy.

“Oh- Y/n didn’t have any highlights?” Redlic commented as the applause died down

“I guess they weren’t able to give her something with all the idea changes…” To be completely honest, Y/n didn’t want a highlight. When the crew began reworking their choreography and it came to the segment that had featured the youngest dancer, Y/n told Latrice to cut it. She was still not allowed to practice at the time and felt it was unfair to the other dancers and her team.

It actually made Bada feel really bad about herself- because, for the first time since meeting the girl, she was glad y/n wasn't in the spotlight. When the leader realized she was thinking this way it made her feel even worse about the situation, knowing how hard this all was on the younger girl, and she did nothing but make that worse for her. She felt conflicted the entire time watching the video- while she was mostly glad she didn’t have to watch Y/n be in the center of attention and was able to avoid accidentally reacting to how pretty she was; Bada was also annoyed that she wasn’t showcasing her talents like she normally did. Knowing how skilled the young dancer was, her presence alone probably would’ve guaranteed Jam Republic a win, so what reason was there for her not to be given her own part?

The other two scores were revealed and the team felt immense pride. However, any relief Y/n was feeling was ripped away just as quickly as it arrived. Daniel announced the 100-point deduction from Kirsten’s score due to them failing to meet the minimum amount of required dancers and y/n felt her stomach drop. The gasp she let out was followed by tears although she managed to push them back- she truly thought she was going to be sick. Y/n had to physically cover her mouth, to avoid letting out a sob or to stop herself from throwing up? She doesn’t even know. This poor girl is literally internally losing her shit and having a mental breakdown over the fact that they could lose to deep n dap.

Moments pass as Daniel re-explains the extra concept points that would be rewarded to the crew that executed the outdoor concept better according to the judges. When it was revealed that Jam Republic won the points Y/n burst into tears and covered her face with both hands as her shoulders shook with sobs.

“Ahhh the baby” Amy whined in sympathy, pouting along with Redy and Lia

“She must’ve been so stressed” Waackxy pouted as she and her teammates nodded

“DON’T CRYYYYYY” Lusher was the only one from Bebe to shout out to her, the others kind of just side-eyeing her

“What? She still deserves comfort… she’s not a bad person, she just did a not good thing… I wouldn’t even call it a bad thing” The sub-leader sternly eyed up her teammates, then her leader, already tired of how they were acting.

"she cries too much" Bada was mumbling to herself but made sure to say it loud enough for the girl in front of her to hear. Lusher whipped around and pursed her lips, her nostrils flaring as she forced herself to take deep breaths

"For someone who got into an argument over immaturity, you're acting really childish." the younger of the two whispered calmly, but everyone could feel the rage simmering in her. She turned back around and her face immediately reverted back to one of pride for the pink team.

“Y/n, you were extremely ill during the second half of the rehearsal process-” Bada tilted her head, eyebrows furrowing in confusion and concern at Daniel’s words. She was sick? Is she okay now?

“How do you feel that impacted your overall performance?” the host questioned after Kirsten and Emma had finished giving their speeches. The youngest member sniffed and wiped her tears as she was handed the microphone, taking a deep breath before speaking

“Well…” she sighed and felt more tears coming

“It was extremely difficult for me personally, obviously… but I couldn’t help but feel like a burden to my team…” the youngest member let out a sob as she tried to finish her sentence. Audrey rubbed her back, comforting her friend.

“So I did my best to attentively take notes and help where I could, while actively reviewing the choreography until I was well enough to perfect it on my own…” Y/n was able to finish more stably after taking a few deep breaths and calming herself down. Daniel nodded and smiled sympathetically before thanking her and moving on.

“Wow… she taught herself everything in her own time and practiced it less than the others… and still looked that good???” NOB cocked her head, genuinely stunned by how dedicated and talented the youngest Jam Republic member was.

After 1 Million and Mannequeen’s videos were both shown and scores were revealed, announcing that 1 Million had taken the win, it was time to move on to the all-gender concept groups. Lady Bounce’s video was shown first, and they scored extremely well, seeing as it was well executed and had a lot of energy. The team had received a generally positive reaction during interim checks and also finished off strong with positive feedback from the judges. Both Bebe's and Y/n’s nerves were beginning to rise.

When it came time for Bebe’s video to play, everyone was interested to see what the team did with the feedback. Since Jam Republic was seemingly able to come back from near-elimination, the other crews were curious to see if Bebe would be able to do the same, or if they would simply take the other team’s place as the least impressive performance.

Right off the bat, Y/n was already distraught. The amount of partner work really threw her for a loop because it wasn’t like that before… and she literally thought she was gonna burst into tears again. She knew it was obviously just acting, but the young dancer still hated it and lowkey felt like it was a punishment, even though it clearly wasn’t.

The entire time, she watched with a heavy heart. It was so good and she couldn’t even tell anyone how proud she was of them, especially Bada, so Y/n just there and silently let tears roll down her face the whole time. Her eyes were on Bada as soon as it ended. She of course didn’t look her way, but y/n continued to clap as hard as she could, knowing if she were to open her mouth and cheer she’d probably let out a sob

“It was just really good… I’m glad it turned out so well” she said wiping her tears and putting on a very fake smile trying her hardest to look happy and not utterly heartbroken, knowing how the camera picked up every reaction. Audrey once again patted her friend’s back and gave her a sympathetic smile. When Bebe’s score was shown everyone was shocked to see that it was lower than Lady Bounce’s- not by a ton, but still lower. Y/n felt her heart rate start to pick up, getting nervous at the thought of Bebe losing the whole challenge and ending in the elimination battle.

Bada started her speech well but only got about two words in before feeling a surge of emotions. She quickly recognized the hard work of her team and spoke on how she would continue to improve and grow as a director, before affirming it all with a nod and handing the microphone back over. Wolf’Lo’s performance followed, and Y/n wasn’t shocked at all when she continued to be unimpressed by the group’s work. However, despite her exhaustion and anxiety, the youngest Jam Republic member was still able to pull out an expressive reaction to the orange team scoring higher than Bebe.

“That’s fucking ridiculous…” Y/n glared at the screen, unable to hide her distaste. Emma snorted at the girl’s reaction

“Good to see you haven’t lost your judgment” the older girl teasingly smirked at her teammate who just smiled lightly and shook her head. Daniel moves on to announcing which of the three teams received the bonus points for executing their concept the best. Ladybounce took the win and y/n began to panic more seeing that Bebe came in last out of the three. When they showed the current rankings based on judges' scores, she was relieved Jam Republic wasn’t at risk for elimination, seeing Bebe in sixth place had her head spinning. She was really hoping the audience votes would keep her safe and boost Bebe in the ranks as well.

The host began announcing the final ranks for the mission, after adding in audience votes and views. 1 Million placed first, not surprising anyone, since their performance was practically flawless. Jam Republic was called for second place and all six of the members felt the tension leave their bodies, even though their safety was guaranteed by their win. Audrey put her arm around y/n and the girl was able to smile a little bit more at their victory, still not completely present in the moment due to how much of a nervous wreck she was for Bada and her team. Now that Y/n knew she was one hundred percent safe, she should’ve felt relieved, but no such feeling came.

While the other members debated who tied with Mannequeen for third between Ladybounce and Bebe, y/n just continued to lay with her head on Audrey’s shoulder, totally zoned out. Ladybounce won and the youngest jam member tensed up while applauding, not moving from her teammate's shoulder. When Bebe is announced as fifth it takes y/n a second to come out of her daze, and when she does she sits straight up and feels tears sting her eyes again. She’s able to hold them back as she applauds, finally feeling genuine relief knowing that the team is safe.

Bada was handed the mic to give her speech, and much like everyone else who had held the microphone at one point today, she began to tear up. Of course, all the natural stress and anxiety of the challenge and competition as a whole had gotten to her, but everything had hit so much harder since she wasn’t able to share any of it with Y/n. The leader felt tears rush faster, no matter how hard she tried to keep them back. After taking a few deep breaths and racing some encouraging pats on the back from her team, Bada was able to speak up

“I’m glad we always scored well in previous missions, but it was a lot of pressure going into this knowing how high the standards were for us…” the tall leader started off

“It’s really all thanks to the members for keeping things going while i wasn’t at my best, so thank you. We’ll continue to keep showing great performances.” Bada finished with a firm not and grateful smile, evoking applause from the other teams. Deep n Dap and Wolf’Lo place in sixth and seventh by default, meaning they are the two teams up for elimination. Daniel announces that both teams are free to go prepare for the battles now and everyone disperses, heading back to their individual hideouts. Jam Republic is one of the last groups to head up to their room, along with Mannequeen, seeing as the two were hyping each other’s videos up.

“Oh shit- I think I left my phone down there…” Y/n sighed in annoyance after feeling around for her phone and not finding it

“Do you want me to come with you to check?” Emma offered, but the younger just shook her head

“No, it’s okay. I’ll meet you guys back in the room” she replied and the others nodded, then they both parted ways. Y/n went back down to the fight zone area, looking around Jam Republic’s seating for her phone, finally finding it next to the bleachers. As she heads back up and begins going down the hall, someone rounds the corner nearly bumping into her.

“Oh- I’m sorry” Y/n meekly whispers at the taller blonde, who at first was glaring down at her, but softened her gaze once she realized how terrible the girl looked. Even under all the stage makeup she had on, Y/n’s eyes were slightly sunken in and didn’t hold the same sparkle they usually did

“It’s fine…” Tatter somewhat dryly responded. Neither of them moved, both simply staring at each other for moments. The older of the two felt the urge to at least create some small talk between them, also harboring some guilty feelings for being cold toward the Jam Republic member.

“How have you been?” she crosses her arms and tries to sound relaxed, not wanting the other girl to feel uncomfortable. Y/n didn’t really know what to say, as she stood stuttering for a few moments, debating whether or not to answer truthfully

“well… I’ve definitely been better” is ultimately what she decides to say. Tatter frowns and her shoulders slump as she sighs

“I’m sorry…” y/n gives her a tight-lipped smile in return, hoping that would be the end, as the whole thing felt incredibly awkward. Yet the older sighed again and continued

“I’m actually sorry for some other things too… I’m sorry for not reaching out to check on you and for being so bitchy. I just saw how distraught Bada was after the whole situation between you two, and I didn’t even stop for a moment to think you could be doing worse… so I’m really sorry y/n” Tatter gently explained with genuine sorrow in her eyes. The other dancer was touched by the apology and a bit taken aback as well

“Thank you Tatter… I really appreciate it. These last few days have been miserable, especially since fighting with Bada… I understand you guys not wanting to talk to me or other things like that because I said some pretty terrible things-” the blonde cut her off with a scoff of a laugh

“Yeah well, you definitely weren’t the only one… I’d even argue that what Bada said was much worse” she strongly retorted, causing the younger girl to sigh and look down

“I know… but I kinda deserved it” Y/n quietly replied feeling her throat begin to close up at the memory

“Not really… I mean sure- you were being an annoying brat, and maybe a tiny bit selfish in the moment, definitely petty-” the other girl calmly argued

“Okay Tatter, was there a point you were trying to make?” the blonde laughed at her friend’s sarcasm, glad to see the slightest smile on the girl’s face, making it known that she wasn’t taking any of it personally

“What I’m trying to say is that even though you were having a rough moment, how Bada dealt with it was absolutely not the right way to go about it. Of course, you were both at fault, but she took it too far.” Tatter finished seriously with a small shake of her head. There was another moment of silence before she began speaking again, shifting the topic slightly

“I bet dealing with this didn’t make it any easier for you to get better, huh?” the older asked in regard to Y/n getting sick and having to continue working on the mission while trying to recover

“No, I actually think it’s part of the reason I got so sick… because I was so stressed out over everything already and that was like- my final straw” The two laughed softly at Y/n’s slightly dramatic statement. Tatter pouts playfully, yet feels genuine heartache for her two friends.

“Things will get better, believe me… she misses you, she’s just so fucking stubborn” Tatter grimaced at the thought of her hard-headed leader and how she’s currently refusing to accept her guilt, causing the tiniest saddest smile to show on y/n’s face.

“I should probably get back to my group now…” the younger softly commented looking down somewhat sadly at her shoes. Tatter hugged her without hesitation and felt Y/n tense up at first, but the short girl quickly relaxed and wrapped her arms around the other in return. They said their goodbyes and right as the blonde watched Y/n turn the corner, she felt a tap on her shoulder and whipped around to see her own teammate.

“what took you so long?” Lusher questioned staring down at the still-empty water bottle the girl said she was going to fill up about 15 minutes ago. Tatter hesitated for a second before deciding it was better to just be honest

“...I was talking to Y/n” she watched as her older teammate’s eyes lit up slightly

“Oh? About?” Lusher curiously and somewhat suspiciously inquired, hoping it would be something good and not about how Tatter decided to beat the shit out of the other girl

“Nothing really, just checking in on her…” the two continued their conversation as they finally began heading back towards their hideout

“Oh, so you’re finally done glaring at her? Good!” the blonde laughed rolling her eyes at the older girl’s sarcasm

“Yeah… I apologized for being bitchy and then we talked a bit about how stressed she was and how it didn’t help when she got sick…” Lusher visibly relaxed at the younger dancer's truthful retelling of the conversation, feeling a bit more at peace knowing she wasn’t alone anymore in the “getting Bada to stop hating Y/n” battle

“I still can’t believe she got so worked up and stressed that she ended up in the hospital” Lusher nonchalantly replied, stopping Tatter in her tracks

“What??” the blonde exasperated, stuck a few steps behind behind the older dancer. Lusher looked around, confused for a moment until she remembered that she was the only one who knew

“Oh yeah, Y/n wound up in the hospital almost as soon as they got back to New Zealand. The doctors said she was so overworked and anxious that it was making her physically ill- that’s why she wasn’t allowed to practice or even be in the rehearsal space at time” Lusher briefly explained the whole situation to her teammate, who stood there with her jaw dropped

“How did you even find this out??” Tatter questioned, still baffled. Lusher’s face went from calm to somewhat guilty for a second

“Well… I had been trying to get in contact with Y/n to see how she was doing, but she wasn’t responding to any of my calls or texts. So I texted Latrice and she explained what was going on, and also made me aware that by texting her, I was lowkey stressing Y/n out more…” she finished with an embarrassed smile, knowing that she and Y/n were okay now and that she didn’t have to feel guilty about it anymore. Tatter scoffed in amusement, shaking her head as they both finally entered their team’s room.

“It took you two long enough!”

____________

After everyone had been given a break while Deep n Dap and Wolf’Lo prepared for their elimination battles, they all gathered in the arena for the show. The bright lights and cheers from the audience amped up the energy and had all the other teams extra hyped.

The first battle was the “hidden battle”, where both teams went head to head as a whole group. Y/n wasn’t expecting more than what she’d usually seen from both groups, but it’s safe to say she was blown away by Deep n Dap’s performance. The song choice and usage of nunchucks really had her getting hyped up, and her normal, energetic self slowly coming back.

The battle to follow was between Chocol and Locker Zee. The young Jam Republic member was fired up, which meant some interesting comments were bound to leave her mouth before passing through her brain

“Bruh it’s so annoying how they’re suddenly so good… like- they were good before but this is AMAZING…” Her entire team side-eyed her, Kirsten and Latrice worried about the show airing what she just said, fearing she could get canceled; the other half trying not to laugh but internally agreed. When the third battle is about to begin and mini walks out and takes off her over shirt showing off her pink jersey, y/n gets excited and points with a smile, since the two are both pink lovers, of course causing her team to smile at her in endearment. When JJ walks out and does the same, y/n starts dying laughing, clapping her hands in amusement along with the rest of her crew. Once the battle starts Mini is the first to dance

“She’s like- actually scary” Y/n jokes around and hides behind Audrey, who laughs and continues to smile just because she’s happy her friend is able to joke around again. The fourth battle was the 5 on 5 and y/n was beginning to get tired of how good both teams were. It felt like things were never going to end, and she was honestly thinking neither team deserved to go home at this point. The fifth battle was another one-on-one with Baby Sleek and Locker Zee, which resulted in another win for Wolf’Lo, bringing the score to 3:2 in favor of Wolf’Lo.

For once, Y/n actually found herself rooting for Deep n Dap, probably because she couldn’t stand Wolf’Lo just as much, or possibly even worse. The sixth battle began, and it was between a duo from each team. Yeni Cho and Haechi came out for the orange team, while JJ and Locker Zee both came out for the green team. Y/n was once again bored by the older team’s presentation, genuinely excited to see what the Deep n Dap duo was about to whip up.

When their music started and everyone recognized it was Michael Jackson, the energy in the room somehow increased even more. JJ and Locker Zee put on a flawless performance, executing each hit and accent perfectly, making sure to connect with each other and the audience.

“BRO WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?????” “I DON’T KNOW BUT I NEED MORE OF IT” Audrey and Y/n are literally losing their shit while watching the performance, absolutely obsessed with the duo, hoping to see more of them in the future. As JJ and Locker Zee took the win, it tied up the score once again, bringing them to the final round, which ended up being between the two leaders. This was a battle Y/n was extremely curious about, already not a fan of Halo’s specific style and also aware of Mina Myoung’s incapability to freestyle. But when the music started, she was pleasantly surprised

“WHAT THE FUCK WHY IS SHE EATING?????” Y/n is so baffled by Mina Myoung’s sudden ability to freestyle efficiently. Y/n stood there, fully back to her normal self (at least for the time being) holding onto her hair with her jaw dropped. To her, the improvement (call it that or desperation) was sickening- it was such a pleasant change that Y/n felt Mina deserved the win just for that alone.

However, the win goes to Halo, giving Wolf’Lo the overall gain of staying in the competition, meaning Deep n Dap was the next team to be eliminated. It’s a bit hard to watch, knowing they truly did try their best. Y/n was doing surprisingly well with not crying- well… until Mina started talking. The leader began her speech and the Jam Republic member was able to avoid tears until Mina brought up how she felt she was able to move on from 1 Million. After that, it was like the floodgates opened up. Don’t ask her why, but Y/n took that shit personally, like a shot straight to the heart. Especially when the Deep n Dap leader mentioned her relationship with Lia Kim, y/n felt her ache for them.

As all teams say their goodbyes to Deep and Dap and said team leaves the studio, filming ends for the day. Everyone is either standing around mingling or heading back to their own hideouts. Jam Republic continues their conversation with Mannequeen when Lusher comes bounding over and wraps her arms around y/n congratulating her, nearly scaring the life out of the small girl. When the younger turns around to see who it is, she once again bursts into tears and clings to her. Lusher feels her heart break even more for her friend yet can’t help but giggle softly at how cute the reaction was. Poor y/n was so scared that Lusher hated her too and it brought her the slightest bit of relief knowing that she didn't

Bada watched from where the rest of team Bebe sat in their designated spot, not even trying to hide her irritation at the situation. She was feeling a mix of annoyance (at both y/n and lusher) and watching the interaction once again sent a wave of guilt rushing through her.

"Ya know you can go congratulate her too…" Tatter spoke up from behind the leader. Bada looked over her shoulder at the blonde and scoffed, but it held no malice- she just sounded exhausted

"And why would I go do that?" the team leader looks over her shoulder with a cold stare and a slight look of disgust at the idea

"well for starters so you can stop getting into arguments with your own teammates-" She did have a point… Bada had been much more irritable since the argument, causing a lot of their practice time to be even more strictly ran

"and two, so you can stop making both her and yourself miserable" Ouch Tatter. Ouch.

“Weren’t you just glaring at her too when we walked in?” Bada rolled her eyes and pouted childishly crossing her arms, causing the other girl to snort and respond

“Yeah, but I talked to her in the hallway… she was in the hospital you know-” Tatter responded as if it were common knowledge or a quick throwaway fact about the girl

“What???” the leader’s eyes widened and she uncrossed her arms leaning forward to make sure she heard the girl correctly

“Yeah… got so worked up and anxious over everything she made herself sick apparently” Tatter shrugged, not having all the proper information. Bada sighed and rolled her eyes

“Seriously? Where‘d you even hear this from?” she pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes, now fully recognizing and admitting to the guilt she’d been suppressing. Tatter hesitated for a second, debating whether or not to mention her small conversation with the girl they were talking about, ultimately deciding not to.

“Lusher” the blonde gave away her source matter-of-factly. Of course, she heard it from Lusher. Bada was beginning to think if she hadn’t made a move on Y/n first, Lusher would’ve easily swooped in and done so. But now that she and Y/n were fighting, did that mean Bada could potentially lose her to the other girl? Lusher was attentive and understanding, closer to Y/n’s age, and had been the first of team Bebe to interact with Y/n… plus she had been in contact with her after the whole incident. The leader tried not to worry about the irrational possibility of her own teammate stealing the girl she was pining after away from her… but it was still a lingering thought nonetheless.

notes: i needed this chapter to be as long as it was just so you guys didn't have to suffer as much in the next chapter🫶

taglist (open) (continued in replies): @tinybada @angel-hyuckie @violetinferno @jesuschrist2006 @1luvkarina @uwulyn @justandloyal2961 @deadgirlwalking3 @squidvoldyvoid @vivzyo @ouhaika @jksjx @ocyeanicc @marianamartinsthings @jxrdxnh @luvjanexx @lorenztired @khjssss @heavenlycloud @loisje123 @starchasermyloves @zhivaxo @grinnwolph @notyourd0lly @stinkbvgs @nermandiiiii-blog @arujee @idontknownemore @thatgayinsomniac @fruitr0llup @cgriffin9797-blog @woooooya @kaaylvst @ssc7514 @astoreea @linda-botello @kpopgirl-97 @erikook @misszoldyc @sammisregrets @jysai @moonsvrse @froufrousnowman @amararosesblog @tikitsune @aestrelle19 @laaaasanielzz @randomhoex @tswisal1 @unpretty-reader @charlesswife @stella222

#moth to a flame #street woman fighter 2 #bada lee #bada lee x reader #street woman fighter x reader #bada x reader

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i-am-beckyu · 10 months ago

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And the phone keeps ringing and ringing and ringing....

FIRST FIC OF THE NEW YEAR LETS GO!!!!!! Okay so firstly, this fic has gone full circle. It started as a fake fic title from me to @guppybubbles which she made a prompt for which I liked and the spawned a story so crazy how that works. Link to that post here. But yeah anyways this is that prompt in story form lol. Was a lot of fun to write so enjoy!

cw: Fear, fear of death, minor graphic gore descriptions but nothing fatal, panic, rats, ghosts, Uhhhh I think that's it. Just fluffy stuff lets be real <3 wc: 2923

Disclaimer! This story is based on the characters of the Dream SMP and not the real life content creators. Anything that occurs in this story is purely fiction and should be treated as such. Thank you.

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It started a few months ago.

Wilbur had moved into his new apartment, finally free of the constant pestering and confinement of living under his parents roof. Things had been great at first, well they had until his stuff had started going missing.

At first, he assumed it was rats or mice that had gotten into the apartment and had been causing a raucous, but he’d been assured by his Landlord that they made sure to do thorough checks and the last pest control visit had been not even a month ago before he moved in.

Fast forward to now after what had been a month long period of the man thinking his new home was haunted as things fell off shelves or strange noises made themselves apparent in the middle of the night, Wilbur was talking to said Ghost that had made his initial move a living terror.

Well looking back, maybe not a living terror but more of a mild inconvenience.

Tommy- or so the ghost called himself, had been calling him from his friend Jack’s phone at least once or twice a day since the phone was misplaced, and got a call from said ghost proudly stating: “I can see youuu.”

At first, Wilbur was convinced it was just some kid that had stolen Jack’s phone (which technically it was), but after he tried to locate the phone and found the signal was in fact coming from his apartment and yet nowhere to be found, Wilbur relented and gave into the boy’s story. They certainly were adamant about not giving it back or ever showing themselves to get it.

But even if they did steal a phone just to play pranks, Wilbur couldn’t find it in himself to be mad at the boy (We pretend Jack’s feelings about a child stealing his phone are irrelevant). They seemed lonely and after a while, his fear of the ghost haunting his house evaporated and he found himself enjoying talking to Tommy. Tommy seemed to think the same as any chance he could, he seemed to be ringing and wanting to chat.

Like right now as his own phone started vibrating with the classic Xylophone trill, the display showing incoming call from ‘Ghost Gremlin’ on the illuminated screen.

He wondered how the phone hadn’t run out of credit yet. Ghost powers he assumed.

“Hey Gremlin. What’s new in the world from beyond today?”

“Oi! I’m not a Gremlin! I’m a Big Man Ghost! Get it right Wilbitch.”

“Oh my apologies. How’s the world from beyond Ghost gremlin?” The man chuckled as he tapped on speaker modes to continue with copying his music work down hands free.

Wilbur heard a soft groan through the speakers and could imagine the boy probably rolling his eyes.

“It’s fine I guess. Same boring dead plane. Dark and dreary but oh so boring. That’s why I’ve rung my favourite Human Bean.” Tommy responded gleefully.

That was something strange about Tommy. He always called Wilbur a Human Bean no matter how many times he tried to correct his pronunciation of Human Being. Wilbur persummed his ghost was probably something like age 10-12 since he didn’t really seem to know about a lot of things with the number of times he’d explain something despite knowing what a TV was.

“Yeah I guess being dead would get boring if you lived in a place like that.”

“Yep.” Tommy said, popping the p. “So what are you writing down? I see you’ve got your guitar out.”

Wilbur smiled as he wrote down a few more lines in cursive. “I’m just writing out the final version of that new song I’ve been working on. I can play it for you when I’m done later.” “But Wiiiil! I want to hear it now!!!!” The boy drawled in a whiny tone.

Wilbur practically could hear the pouting face Tommy was making through the phone line.

“You know I don’t get to hear music often. Can’t you just play that funny song about Jared now? You’ve already finished that one AND it’s one of my favourites.”

“Tommy, I literally played Your New Boyfriend for you when you called yesterday. I think you can wait a little bit.”

Tommy huffed in response, the ghost relenting a little mumbling an annoyed fine before the two settled into a comfortable silence. For a being that was quite literally intangible, Tommy sure had a way of making his voice sound very real.

This was how a majority of their calls would go. Simple small talk about whatever the two were doing in the moment or had to do until Tommy ended up going on a rant about something random and Wilbur was happy to listen. It’s how he ended up learning about Tommy’s strange love for mud and he himself sharing his love for eating sand. He’s never heard anyone sound more offended about eating sand for a snack.

What? It’s good he swears!

But some of Tommy’s rant topics were strange. Like what need does a ghost have with needing fishing hooks or dental floss? He assumed that the boy must have had some unusual fascination with tiny things before he died because he seemed to be very particular about how things needed to be if he were suddenly shrunk.

Like today how the Ghosts rant topic was about Rats and what right royal pricks they were.

“Like you don’t understand Wilbur, Rats are the absolute worst! They just come marching into your space and then decide to go through all your food stores and eat it- which they’re never satisfied with by the way, before trying to take a bite of you!” Tommy explained.

“Yes they are quite wretched little creatures. I wouldn’t like it if one bit my hand either.” Wilbur agreed as he finished writing another verse.

“If I could, I’d stab them before they ever even got close. I’d take my sword and plunge it into their hearts, all heroic and stuff.”

“Couldn’t you just use your ghost powers and I don’t know, fling them away?”

How would a rat even bite a ghost? Ghost’s don’t exactly have tangible bodies, Wilbur thought.

“Stabbing them sounds like a lot more work when you can’t actually touch them.”

“Well if you want to be a boring ghost you can. But what other ghosts do you know can stab their enemies?” “Well you-”

“NONE! EXACTLY!” Tommy shouted triumphantly. “I’m one of a kind Wilbur and the Poggest Ghost to ever live!”

“Sure Tommy. Sure.”

The ghost feigned offense with a long gasp. “You dare doubt me, the great and powerful TommyInnit? I could destroy you if I wanted to, you know.”

“Yeah but you won’t.” Wilbur shot back. “You’re just a sad child that has no one better to talk to and would miss me if you destroyed your only friend.”

“I would not because A. I have lots of friends and B. I’m not a child.” The boy snapped.

“How does that even make sense?” Wilbur queried as he finished off the last few lines in cursive.

“It doesn’t have to make sense purely because I’m better than you.”

“Sure little man.”

The boy huffed through the phone line. “I’m not little.”

“Little Baby Man.” the brunette teased.

“Stop it.”

“Little Baby Man Child.”

“AM NOT A LITTLE BABY MAN! I’M A BIG MAN! BIGGER THAN YOU, THE WORLD OR EVEN THE UNI-”

“But you accept that you’re a child.” Wilbur smirked as he moved the papers to pick up his guitar. Tommy groaned.

Yeah, Wilbur didn’t mind this at all.

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Wilbur played his guitar for a few more hours before Tommy eventually said his goodbyes to do ‘ghostly things’ as per usual for the night, leaving Wilbur the rest of the evening to settle down for bed. He’d been asleep probably an hour or so before being woken to the sound of his ringtone.

Groggily, Wilbur reached for his phone on the nightstand, half asleep as it rang. Instead of grabbing it though, he accidentally knocked it to the ground earning a groan from the man as he lazily searched the ground for it. Just as he grabbed the phone, the call rang out leaving one new voice mail message in his notifications.

Blearily ignoring who the message was from, he opened his phone and tapped on the voicemail raising it up to listen.

‘You have one-new-voicemail BEEP!’

“Wil, WILBUR!”

Hang on. That sort of sounds like Tommy.

“PICK UP YOUR PHONE! PLEASE WIL! I NEED HELP!”

Wilbur bolted upright now fully wide awake. Tommy was in trouble. He needed help. Where was he? How could he help a ghost?

Before his mind could divulge into further panic, his phone rang again and Wilbur didn’t hesitate to answer.

“Tommy? Tommy, where are you? Are you okay? I-”

“WILBUR HELP ME PLEASE! IT’S HERE! IT’S GOING TO GET ME AND I’M CORNERED! I’M GONNA DIE I PLE-” The cries of the boy sending the brunette into panic mode.

“WOAH WOAH woah Tommy I need you to calm down for me.” Wilbur tried, listening to the labored breaths of the ghost on the other line. “I need you to tell me where you are so I can come help, can you do that.”

“I- I’m.. Uh. I CAN’T TELL YOU! YOU’LL HATE ME!” The boy yelled between hiccupped breaths as they began to cry, loud thumping and hisses filling the background noise.

“Tommy, all I care about is finding you to help, I’m not going to hate you.”

“But you will! Everyone hates me when they find out!”

Tommy had never sounded so terrified before. Wilbur never truly believed anything could hurt the ghost before, but whatever had them so panicked must be serious and the increase in thrashing noises was not easing his nerves.

“Toms, I could never hate you. I want to help you, but I can’t do that unless you tell me where you are.”

“I- Promise?” Desperation clear in the boy's voice.

“I promise.”

There was a brief pause from the boy before they shakily instructed him into the Hallway.

“Okay, open the closest and I’m in there.”

A loud screech came through the phone's speakers followed by a cry in pain before Tommy was screaming for help through the speakers.

“WILBUR HURRY! I CAN’T HOLD THEM OFF FOR MUCH LONG—.”

“Tommy? TOMMY?!”

The line was dead.

Wilbur had never run faster in his life. His mind spiraled with horrid thoughts at what that sound was and why Tommy would be in his closet, but despite the ridiculousness of it, his focus was on helping his friend.

As he approached the closet, the sound of muffled hissing and shrieking filled his senses and Wilbur was quick to fling open the closet.

Nothing.

Wilbur stood confused but the noises didn’t cease, only growing louder now the door was open. He followed the sound down to the floor, realising that whatever it was, was beneath the floorboards.

Wilbur was quick to act and ran to grab something from the kitchen to pry the boards up, the sounds growing worse with every passing second. As soon as he had what he needed, Wilbur started heaving each nail out from the floor, prying the board up to reveal what was beneath. With one final pull, the board came loose, and the man yanked the board back revealing an unseemly sight.

A huge rat was scratching and gnawing at what appeared to be a tiny wardrobe. It hadn’t seemed to notice Wilbur yet, hell bent at getting whatever was inside the little cupboard. It was when the rat tried head butting the cupboard did a terrified scream hit his ears.

The brunette grabbed the rat in an instant, gripping the thing tightly as it writhed and screeched in his grasp. Quickly he stood and moved to take it outside where he threw it; standing there, panting heavily watching as it landed with a thump before whimpering away.

What just happened?

He barely had any time to dwell on it further before tiny little thumps could be heard coming from back down the hall.

Tommy

“Tommy!” Wilbur rushed back inside and crouched down on his knees as he observed what laid before him. “Tommy are you alright?”

Despite it being wrecked, it appeared to be a miniature room. Small fairy lights lined the walls and small trinkets made up what could be a wrecked table and chair, sprawled all over the place from the intrusion of the rat. But what really shocked Wilbur, was seeing Jack’s old phone slightly banged up beneath part of a broken floor board in the corner.

Gingerly, Wilbur reached out and lifted it from the debris, to inspect if it was actually real or his imagination. It indeed was the very same phone Jack lost and somehow was even plugged into a charging port.

What is all this?

“Tommy are you?” Wilbur asked, confusion lacing his voice. Why was Jack’s phone in a tiny room? Where was his friend?

Suddenly, the wardrobe the rat had been so interested in moved. Wilbur set the phone down as the small piece of furniture jerked again, making it wobble ever so slightly in place.

With bated breath, Wilbur carefully reached forward, gently picking up the tiny wardrobe between his thumb and pointer finger bringing it into his palm.

It was banged up badly from how the rat had been trying to tear into it, but intact. What was it about this that had the rat so enthralled?

Trying the best he could, Wilbur grabbed the tiny little door knob and pried the door open.

Wilbur froze, dumb founded at what was hidden inside.

Staring at him with blue eyes blown wide in terror, was a tiny little blonde boy, pushed far back into the wardrobe as humanly possible, gripping the sides with all their might. Their breathing was labored and they looked worse for wear, tears through their little jacket and angry red scratches littering their arms, some even appearing to be smeared with blood.

“What on earth?” Wilbur’s brow crinkled in confusion.

He was holding a tiny person in a wardrobe.

A tiny person that had almost been killed by a rat.

The tiny boy’s eyes darted all over the place, seemingly trying to figure out how to escape the mess they were in, as Wilbur tried to process that he was holding an entire person within his palms. How was this even possible?

“I- ” The tiny person begged, Wilbur’s full attention locked onto them as tears continued to stream down their face. “Please don’t hurt me Wilby!”

Tommy?!

No. No Tommy was- Tommy is a Ghost that made random phone calls. Tommy that loved his music and mud that was very much a ghost and not a tiny little person.

“Tommy?” Wilbur brought his free hand to cover his mouth. “What. How?”

“Please don’t hate me! I’ll leave! You’ll never see me again, just don’t hurt me!” The little boy pleaded, curling into themselves in an attempt to hide themself. “I never meant for this to happen. You weren’t supposed to know and now you’ll-”

“Tommy, Toms calm down. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Yeah right! That’s when you thought I was a ghost! Now you know the truth and I can’t do anything about it.” the boy sobbed.

Wilbur hated how small Tommy looked. He was always so bright and full of life when they spoke on the phone, but now it was like holding a fragile flower. So small, so delicate, so precious and in need of protection. He just wanted to reach out and hold them close.

“Tommy, look at me please.” Wilbur pleaded, waiting patiently for the boy to look at him before he continued.

“Tommy, I would never hurt you. Yes you pretended to be a ghost and took Jack’s phone, but that doesn’t change how I feel about you.” Tommy lifted his head and swiped his arm across his nose of snot and tears as Wilbur continued.

“You’re one of my best friends Tommy. I don’t talk to anyone nearly as much as I do with you and I care about you, whether you’re a ghost or not.” Wilbur brought Tommy a bit closer to himself, lifting the tiny boy up to be eye level.

“Besides, I made a promise to not hate you, remember? I intend to keep it.”

Tommy's lip began to wobble, before the boy burst into tears, unable to hold himself back any longer.

“I’m sorry Wilby!” The boy cried as they crawled out of the wardrobe onto the man's hand. “ I wanted to tell you but I was scared.”

“Shh it’s alright.” Wilbur assured, setting the wardrobe down before bringing Tommy close to his chest protectively. “I’ve got you and it’s all going to be okay.”

While this whole ordeal was crazy and strange, in this moment it didn’t matter.

They’d have to talk about why the boy was living in the man’s floors and why he pretended to be a ghost in the first place (not to mention how and why Tommy was like 3 inches tall) but that could all wait for later.

Wilbur loved Tommy more than the boy ever understood, and it brought great joy to Wilbur that finally, he was able to meet his pseudo little brother face to face. They’d figure everything out eventually, but for now-

This was enough.

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AND THANK YOU IF YOU READ TO THE END!!

For real this was fun to write and I did it all in one sitting lol. Was good to just smash out a short project that was something new and different. It took me far too long to get around to editing it though lol. Thank you Squishy and Munchkin for Beta reading. You're the best! ❤️❤️❤️

Tag List Link here: @local-squishmallow @brick-a-doodle-do @justarandomsloth @veryfunkycheesecake @munchkin1156 @kayla-crazy-stuffs @da3dm @eiscreme135 @orchid-harmony @the-tiny-lurker @colossal-red @nobodywritingao3 @nata2343 @bad-author777 @crazyfoxgirl10 @guppybubbles

OH AND I ALMOST FORGOT, LOOK AT THE ART SQUISHY MADE FOR THIS AFTER THEY FINISHED READING!!!

I MEAN LOOK AT THIS! IT'S THE WARDROBE SCENE! When I tell you I squealed in delight when I saw this I mean it. I walked into work grinning because it's all I could think about lol. Thanks again beautiful! Truly gifted you are <3

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icarusbetide · 7 months ago

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Since you are a purveyor of odd Hamilton takes... Came across this in American Military Biography (1830) by Amos Blanchard:

I had assumed the "orphan Alex" narrative was there from the start (and maybe this is just a very badly researched book), but that made me wonder when that actually became the default version of the story.

(Also how can you be an orphan with a living parent anyway...?)

I love my curated collection of odd Hamilton takes...some of them are printed out on a dart board so I can skewer them to hell along with the corresponding historian's picture but the ones I agree with are 100% accurate and concrete facts.

And thank you so much for sharing, this is really interesting! My first thought was maybe Blanchard was aware of Ann Mitchell, Hamilton's cousin. She lived in America for several years, may have been his major benefactor, and he singled her out in his final letters, entreating Betsey to treat her well.

From a quick search it seems unlikely she accompanied him (Allan McLane Hamilton thought they never met in America), but perhaps the knowledge of a maternal figure helping Ham was public at the time, and the author rolled with "mother"? I stumbled on a paper from 1952, "Alexander Hamilton: The Fact and Fiction of His Early Years" by Larson that addresses the popular myth that Hamilton received help from two friendly aunts; apparently there was an aunt Ann Lytton who died before all of this, separate from the actual helper: Ann Lytton Venton Mitchell, Hamilton's cousin. Not sure how far back that mixup goes, but maybe this author heard about this mother who was actually an aunt who was actually a cousin through the grapevine. Christ.

This did get me thinking about how I've never dug into Rachel's death because it seems like such a concrete incident. There is the 1768 probate court transaction available on founders online for anyone looking for easy access but now I'm having a second hand existential crisis. Maybe Hamilton was actually chilling with his very alive mother who is so confused rn.

I also assumed the orphan narrative thing was present from the start. From what I know, the "lacks good parentage, native land, and money" aspect was always subtly present (which is in itself honestly misleading, he was very privileged. but it makes sense since he's beefing with the elite who can use that relative disparity against him). but maybe the "all alone in the world with nobody to help him" aspect was not.

I'm considering the various examples of people being shady, like Jefferson writing that Ham is a man who "from the moment at which history can stoop to notice him, is a tissue of machinations against the liberty of the country which has not only recieved and given him bread, but heaped it’s honors on his head". This was a letter to Washington of all people, so maybe this indicates that there was some general understanding of Hamilton's background as lacking that allowed him to say all this even in consideration of his frustrations. Newspapers alluded to it. In 1800: "And you might find yourselves equally mistaken, in supposing, that the mode of your descent from a dubious father, in an English island would be no bar in this country to the pretensions to the Presidency."

So clearly there's some aspect of the lowborn narrative peeking through, but I think it would make sense for people to believe & say that he came from questionable, middling backgrounds, but still not see him as an orphan. His childhood wasn't happy or stable by any means, but he still had some support from family and benefactors going for him in America. And he never let go of his deadbeat dad for all the good that did him so he probably didn't refer to himself as an orphan. He didn't even like people thinking of him as lower-class, ("I have better pretensions than most of those who in this Country plume themselves on Ancestry") so I'm sure he didn't embrace the Charles Dickens characterization.

I dunno, maybe it's later historians who dug into Ham's insecurities, feelings of isolation expressed in certain letters, and his elusive background to complete the orphan narrative.

If anything, I suppose this further shows just how far back ambiguities about Hamilton's origins go. Blanchard also claims that Hamilton was born on St. Croix, and apparently there's some modern speculation that he wasn't even born on Nevis. 1830 isn't too far off from Hamilton's death; what book/person did Blanchard consult, if he even did, for this info? I also know that Adams referred to Hamilton as the "Scottish Creolian of Nevis", so Adams must've heard from a different source that Ham wasn't originally from St. Croix. So confusing.

But anyways, thank you so much for sharing this with me - I'm so bad at finding old resources, and I would've never learned that some doofus wrote about Hamilton with - gasp - a nondead parental figure.

Hope you're having a great day! :)

#alexander hamilton #historical hamilton #amrev #amrev fandom #this response is way too long i apologize

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harrison-abbott · 7 months ago

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I’ve been scouting for some new work the last few weeks. And I came across this freelance company, a freelance writer’s group, who I scouted out through LinkedIn. And so I applied for them. And I passed the initial ‘test’ with them on the application. So I thought I was getting somewhere. Approaching a ‘proper job’, as it were.

I looked on their site, and I was supposed to book an Order with them – a writing project of which I could work on. Which would be the next step in the process. And I browsed over them briefly.

The information was a bit convoluted, and seemed to involve writing financial letters, or, subjects related to law or insurance. I wasn’t quite knowledgeable about such things, and so I kept browsing. And I came to this other Order that was in the bracket of fiction. So I clicked on that.

And apparently you had to read a synopsis and then make a novelette out of it. But the description said you had to include various things within the piece, that were mandatory. Hmm. None of the information was especially clear. So I kinda hesitated for a while. I was travelling earlier in the month and so wasn’t at home, and hadn’t logged back into the site to book one of these Orders. I still wasn’t quite sure how this company worked.

Then yesterday I got an email from them – an automated one – asking why I hadn’t booked on Order. I was out all day yesterday so I didn’t have time to reply to the email. And, just tonight, in the last hour, I got another email from them, telling me they had temporarily deactivated my account.

I tried to log back in but wasn’t able to. And I thought about emailing them, to tell them that I’d been busy, but I was still intrigued. But, before I did that, I thought I would look the company up online, to see what I was dealing with here. Which is what I should have done from the get go. So I typed into Google something like ‘Is this company reliable for freelance writers?’

And, instantly, there was an entire spate of pages across the first search, relating to this company. Each one I clicked on, there were accounts from freelancers who had worked with this company, and were warning other writers NOT to work with them. There were stories of writers working on entire books and being paid less than minimum wage for it. Stories of deals being severed after the hirer pulled out, leaving the freelancer hanging. And so on, so forth. The main consensus from this group was that it was a dodgy, shoddy company, who weren’t there to help writers, and who were only using them; and they made their money from the other clients who needed somebody to write stuff for them.

I was a bit disappointed. And felt silly that I had been naïve, in thinking that they were legit. I’ve had similar experiences in the ‘writing world’, where groups have expressed false interest, in order to make money from themselves. But, luckily, I’ve realised they were all falsetto. I was glad that I went to Denmark, instead of pursing a career with this phony company.

And, just to say, that’s why I like Tumblr. Because, as writers, we can just post for free. And share our stories and poems. We only post out of a love for literature, and there is no hustle or agenda behind our posts. And so, the Hell with that ^ company. And I’ll just keep posting on here. Wish all you fellow writers well.

#writeblr #writers on tumblr #real life stories #tumblr writers #spilled ink

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orange-orchard-system · 2 years ago

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Perhaps it’s just my own interest in writing systems, particularly those who don’t fully understand their own plurality (especially not in common or community terms), but it often sticks out to me whenever I come across a character’s situation that sounds even vaguely plural. It’s the reason why I’m on and off considering creating a blog or online library of sorts where people can submit, browse, and find works with plural content out there — there’s plenty of content for it, but because the authors rarely know of plurality as a real thing and not just the concepts they come up with, it’s very difficult to find works including it if you’re purposefully looking for them.

That’s not really the point of this post, however. I recently came across a manga that reflects this very phenomenon, and it made me think of how varied and creative plurality (or at least, something close to it) can be in fiction when it’s not known about as something real. I’ve only just begun this manga, so I cannot speak to much on it, but I find what I’ve read so far very interesting. I’ll summarize what I know of it so far, but I’ll try to keep spoilers light in my summary, so anyone else who wants to read it can go in mostly blind.

The manga in question is called It’s My Destiny to Be the Hero’s Savior (sometimes translated with minor spelling or grammar differences). The main character, Aria Eldio, discovers her consciousness can travel to a library containing knowledge from her past life (and is said to be the same study she had in her previous life), while her body remains in the physical world where she left it. In this library resides a “spirit-like being” named Pi, who assists Aria as best she can while not being able to leave the library. She’s not a figment or creation of Aria’s mind, either — it’s explicitly mentioned that Aria was surprised to find her in her library and had never seen her before then. It’s also noted that Aria typically travels to this library when under extreme pain and distress, but she can do it outside of those circumstances, too, although Pi has no knowledge of which circumstances Aria is visiting the library under unless she tells her. They’re also able to transfer physical objects in and out of the library, presumably through the use of magic.

Obviously, not a story meant to be about a system. However, one could draw parallels between system members going to and from their innerworld, especially of a host visiting a headmate who can’t front for whatever reason. If this were a real-life example of a system, they’d likely consider themselves something like spirigenic and trauma-based (although perhaps they may also consider themselves traumagenic, given the circumstances of Aria finding the library and Pi in the first place), and find similarities with P-DID and specutien systems. They’re also a system with good communication but no apparent memory sharing, meaning that in a system (and somewhat medical) context, they’d probably be considered to have high amnesiac barriers but low dissociative barriers (aside from Pi’s apparent lack of connection to the body, of course). If they were to switch and Pi controlled the body, she’d likely have what would be considered a case of blackout amnesia and have to rely on only what Aria’s told her about the life she lives to go about her day.

I really enjoy seeing and analyzing these unintentionally plural characters, so maybe I’ll write more posts about ones I see in the future. I already know of at least one other manga like this, but I can’t recall the name at the moment... Eh, I’ll find it again eventually. For now, I’ll keep reading this one.

#plurality #actuallyplural #pluralgang #actuallymultiple #front soup.txt #representation #pluralprose #plural system

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leonsdolly · 3 months ago

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reblogging bc liz articulates it so well 🔊

it's also worth noting that you don't necessarily need to have trauma to enjoy or feel interested in these topics. there's a lot of shaming/guilt tripping going around which is so weird bc these kinks have BEEN a thing in all nsfw communities since the beginning of time! these topics are considered taboo which is what intrigues people and that's ok - humans have always been drawn to the forbidden! it's perfectly okay to explore these kinks in a fictional setting. no one is saying they want to do these things irl! stepcest/incest are popular in many nsfw communities and porn (lol) but that doesn't mean anyone wants to actually fuck their siblings!!! and for example, cnc/rape play is a very popular kink - it doesn't necessarily mean the person wants to actually be assaulted. there are a number of things that may fascinate them about it - the thrill, relinquishing control, etc. rather, they will usually have a healthy discussion with their partner about how to incorporate it in a way that's safe and enjoyable for both parties. this is how kinks are usually implemented irl!

it also feels like the majority of people i have seen complaining about ddne are underage? (i'm assuming so as a lot of times their ages aren't even visible on their blogs which is like the NUMBER ONE thing you should be doing if you are going to be engaging in mature content). this is exactly why minors shouldn't be interacting with, let alone commenting on the ways of nsfw content, whether here or anywhere else. these are extremely mature topics in an already established adult community. and for those who are adults crowing about the same things, everyone is responsible for curating their internet experience. just bc you don't like something doesn't mean you can police someone else from liking it in a space that THEY created for themselves. there are certain topics that i don't really like to read about, so i just continue scrolling. i don't need to pat myself on the back and have my mutuals congratulate me for calling those fics disgusting and denouncing anyone who even enjoys them a little bit as a dangerous freak. so many times i've seen people complain that they just read a fic with incest or something in it... why did you read it when you clearly saw the content bolded and highlighted at the beginning of the post with all the warnings in the world plastered for all to see? that is 100% on you for proceeding when you knew you weren't the target audience! that's not the writer's fault!

i also agree with liz that i see far more people complaining about ddne content than the ddne content in question itself! i'm always seeing discourse pop up in the tags and my fyp. i don't like seeing this as it's contributing to the mistreatment/harassment of writers. i don't think the anti ddne crowd quite understands the impact this discourse has on writers in general. it's revealed a lot about the RE community in particular - they have made it apparent that writers are to be taken for granted, dismissal of writing/fanfics in general (stating that anyone can do it and that someone's writing isn't worth anything), should only write what they deem to be appealing according to their standards, and that it's ok to harass/dehumanize them if they don't. i've seen the anon hate that my mutuals have received, and i've seen the multiple comments on posts like the one op posted. it's just disappointing and disheartening and discouraging. it's a shame that so many talented writers have to go through this when this is supposed to be their safe space. i've said it once, and i'll say it again - it takes an extremely thorough and capable understanding of a character to be able to successfully write dark content for them 🗣️

tw: inc*st

yall I'm so sorry but as a leon kennedy stan, the amount of incest fics on here is actually so fucking gross like WHAT. how are you writing about that. it's genuinely insane. like really?? 😭😭

not just ab him, but any character. he's just who I've seen it for. like that is so fucking crazy & gross. and so insensitive to anyone who's been through that??? like what.

#liz is such a god for going through and tallying bc YES THE DATA DOES NOT LIE #leon's tag is FULL of whining and questionably written fluff.. sorry #also i'm not even a ddne writer !!!#i'll read my mutuals' writings but there are actually very few ddne topics that i will really seek out and read #and that's ok!!! i know that some of them are not my cup of tea but they're someone else's !!!#like i don't really enjoy noncon in a general sense so i won't seek out fics with it!!#easy as pie!#violet's thoughts ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

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splathousefiction · 2 years ago

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Joyful Stick: Mods And You

Good day my lovely deviants. Welcome back to Joyful Stick. Miss our last entry? You can read it here. As you can probably tell, it’s been quite some time since that. Before getting into our main topic I’m going to explain why.

Joyful Stick was a series I originally started as a “warm up” for my other projects, such as fiction stories and editorials. In a similar way, Jack’s Sack also filled this role. Both series kept me writing and engaged with my craft. Both also kept me more engaged with the larger NSFW community as well. Thanks both to support on patreon and gifts, these respective series more or less could continue in perpetuity if I wanted them to. There was always the promise of a new entry either weekly or bi-weekly. Except there was one problem.

I got bored.

Sex toy makers do go through trends and changes with their products, but it’s a long wait for new models to go from an idea to being available. This often meant I was left reviewing extremely similar toys, with little to add to the conversation or recommendation from the previous review. Though I found alternative means with which to generate revenue from them (like fansly), these reviews rarely “popped” and often were ignored in favor of the other content I created with the toys. Quite a few of you enjoyed watching me/hearing me use them over reading a review, and I can understand why. The last entry of Jack’s Sack was in April of 2022.

As such, that series won’t be returning. Any toys sent to me will be reviewed on my fansly in either audio or video form as per request of the person that sends it. These reviews will be behind a paywall, available either a subscription or a one-time purchase on my fansly page. If you’d like to see that series continue, I suggest following me there.

Joyful Stick had the opposite issue. With two major platforms supporting a wide variety of NSFW releases (that being Steam and Itch.io), there was a veritable ocean of content from all kinds of creators. However, curation and coverage of these titles is extremely rare. While I’m well aware I’m hardly alone in covering adult games, these kinds of discussions are in the niche. I can’t name anyone else off the top of my head that does these styles of reviews. Likewise, the NSFW/Adult game community suffers from a major issue-that being an ongoing bout of “hentai-itis”. It made finding games that had quality writing and gameplay exceedingly difficult. Many titles started to become a slurry of indistinguishable characters and engines before my very eyes.

The only review I actually remember well is the one I did covering Ghost of Tsushima. A title that, while mature and incredible, notably wasn’t pornographic in nature. Following that was my review-cum-editorial of Bloodborne PSX, which also notably wasn’t a porn game. Both of these reviews stay in my mind more so for what I personally-as a player-gleamed from them rather than what they were able to accomplish. Both are great, go play them-but their existence in my life brought more than any RPGMaker title with giant tiddies ever could.

I found it extremely difficult to write anything for this review series that matched that level. So, I got jaded. Burned out. Bored, and disinterested.

As December came in 2022 and I was going through a depressive episode, I began to ask myself what I truly wanted from my creative endeavors. Addressing the obvious, growing gap in my writing was first and foremost. It had been months since I wrote anything, even longer for series like Joyful Stick. I thought back to those prior reviews-and the answer became readily apparent.

Joyful Stick is returning, as made obvious by this entries existence. However, it’s no longer going to focus just on the games themselves. I always felt a bit shameful measuring anything with arbitrary metrics of “buy or don’t”, as I felt it cut into the artistic endeavors of the developers. Rather, I’m going to focus much more on what the title itself is trying to say, along with my personal reception and the communities.

I absolutely, positively will review anything gifted to me. This includes Non-NSFW/Adult title. If I feel as strongly about something as I did Ghost or BBPSX, you can expect a write up on it in due time. I’ll try to veer towards coverage of NSFW/Adult games, as there’s not nearly enough done for them. But I am no longer going to limit myself to those only.

So.

Got something you want me to check out?

Drop me a line, and if you’re so inclined I’ll give you means to gift me it.

As always, I’ll gladly answer questions on twitter.

Now without anymore delay…onto our review.

One Thick Robot Changes Everything

Haydee is not an great game.

Not really.

It’s not terrible, but rather something a bit worse-exceedingly average and simultaneously aggravating in ways too familiar to even draw inspired criticism. It’s a third-person shooter that has enemy variation you can count on one hand. There’s minor puzzles and platforming, which are either brain-dead simple or inherently crafted so badly that asking for a guide would be meet with a sneer before someone tells you to “get good”. It’s three hours long and feels twice that.

But Haydee had exactly two things going for it-Haydee herself, the tit-ular character, and Steam Workshop accessibility.

Haydee is a faceless, curvaceous robot with her assets on full (if tasteful) display. Her upper body is covered in white-plated science fiction clothing meant to simulate combat armor. Her long legs and ass lead to the floor running free of a blue-tinted singlet. Yes, every part of her jiggles as well. While not an especially inspired design, Haydees presentation launched a thousand Source Film Maker videos and several careers. If we’re to make an argument on whether that design was inherently sexualised or not, I think therein lies the answer.

Players get to gaze and look at Haydee through an over-the-shoulder camera which can be rotated freely with the mouse. Her movements are likewise exaggerated, requiring additional button presses to make her squat then get back up, haul herself over platforms and more. The water effects in the game are a far cry from sensational-but getting Haydee wet predictably adds an appealing shine to every part of her.

It’s no wonder then that I heard about the game through the porn first. Before I was even made aware that Haydee had a steam page, I watched her deeply impregnate several Dead Or Alive girls, tit fuck several men and jerk off folks with her ass cheeks. Her design, albeit horny, was just “sci-fi robot generic” enough that I had no idea what she could have been from. Upon finding out there was an entire game with this character, I purchased it the moment it went on sale.

And.

Well.

Yet, Haydee continues to be something I come back to every so often specifically because of the community response to Haydee herself. The reaction to a character who was realistically “thick” and proportioned right at the front stage of a game garnered the title enough success that a sequel was released. I’m not purchasing the sequel and have zero interest in playing it. A community of fervent supporters also began cranking out mods, reskins, new levels and more within the same month of the titles debut.

Which lead to the discovery of one of the greatest collective efforts of archiving I have ever seen.

Nude Mods, Censorship And More

Nude mods and alterations which add sexual content to games aren’t a new concept.

I remember reading a preview for Morrowind in an issue of PC Gamer in middle school that very specifically joked about “the harem of nude, big tiddy mages” available through community efforts-and that was the specific reason I bought the game. A Gameshark code to make Kasume in Dead or Alive 2: Hardcore nude was available at some point when I was a freshman. With sweaty palms, I fervently typed in fifty lines of code to get a character model with as much anatomical detail as a barbie doll. Someone had legitimately sat down and figured out how to remove her layers by reverse engineering that specific part of the game and building a code to alter it. Rumors of a “nude mode” in the original Tomb Raider are almost as old as I am.

These aren’t new concepts, but industry and platform reactions to it absolutely are. It’s a mixed bag of ethical reasoning-fighting sexism in the industry and creating safe environments and platforms for everyone is always a good thing. Puritanicalism is not. Some companies fumble this, others don’t. There’s no right answer saving abstaining, which in of itself can be particularly insidious.

Steam handled this a few years ago by announcing they would allow any content that didn’t represent a direct threat to it’s user base, adopting the “new grounds rule” of “everything by everyone”. Except this wasn’t a hard and fast rule-Red Candle Games infamously had their title removed after place holder art was left in by accident. Similar layers of censorship have also occurred with other titles, often after pressure was applied by the public or a government entity.

In regards to adult titles, Steam has a hypocritical stance. Titles themselves can often have any number of NSFW/Adult things or themes within them (over half the games purchased for this series were on steam). However, things uploaded to the Steam Workshop abide by a totally different set of Terms of Service. Quite specifically, adult content is more or less forbidden, with uploaders and creators resorting to clever titles, hiding what’s actually in the file or altering the mod with minimal censorship to abide by Steams rules. Most of the time users simply circumvent this by going to larger, more lenient mod databases such as Nexus.

The Haydee community had a radically different idea.

For all the obvious reasons, Haydee is a title that had an abundance of sexualized content in it’s mods. Total reskins, posers, levels mimicking BDSM dungeons and more abounded. Of the most wild I personally saw was a “barefoot sounds” mod which…made Haydees bare feet sound like bare feet. An overwhelming majority of these were pulled from the Steam Workshop, often without notice to the creators. As the last seven years of my life have been devoted to sexual entertainment, I can’t even begin to quantify how devastating de-platforming can be to an individual or team.

While these were often dual uploaded on other platforms, the Haydee community decided to fight back in a unique way. As the Steam Discussion features for games has a totally different terms of service from either Workshop or Steam itself, they created a thread with a google-drive archive of every single mod pulled as a result of censorship.

As of this writing, it’s over twelve gig and features over two hundred mods.

It’s single handedly one of the most ambitious community efforts I have ever seen for what is otherwise an un-extraordinary game, the direct response of attempted censorship. The mere fact this is pinned at the top of the community board featuring content in flagrant violation of Workshop’s TOS lays bare how pointless crusades against such content actually are-and made me come to the following realization.

Censorship in of itself is a pointless practice compared to efforts like proper age gating and other means of restricting adult content. Removing adult content from your platform does not stop people from being horny. As a sex worker, we’ll either exist in spite of your TOS or because you directly allow us to. One is going to be a much bigger pain in your ass than the other. As sex workers and adult content drive a sizable portion of website traffic in all cases, adjusting the TOS and allowing us to ethically conduct business is paramount to maintaining your own.

This efforts of the Haydee community reminded me of the countless times a “NSFW Purge” has been rumored to occur at some point on twitter. Except SWers, porn and more make up so much of Twitter’s traffic that there were internal talks to simply allow us a platform of our own within twitter’s ecosystem. Getting rid of us would have killed the site, just like tumblr.

Censorship isn’t the answer, ever. Rather, it’s a band aid on an issue to show investors and nothing more.

-j

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donnerpartyofone · 10 months ago

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But seriously folks! I get why people would build their whole personal culture around comfort-seeking in this cold dark world of ours, but...well, I guess you have as much a right to do it as I have to make fun of it.

I complain about fandom culture a lot, and it's from this perspective: My tumblr experience starting in 2010 was highly curatable, I think just because of the manageable volume of people on here. Sometimes I see these posts reminiscing about the Superwholock era of 2012, which apparently represents the whole idea of tumblr for a lot of people, and I just had no idea it was even going on until many years later! Now the density of fan activity is such that I'm never more than a degree or two away from it no matter who I follow or block, so it feels like it's in my yard and I get crotchety about it. We all know the search function sucks in general, but it also seems like every time I try to look anything up, no matter how general or specific I am, I just get yards of fan fiction and art, often relating to stuff I've never even heard of before. And the thing that's eerie about it is that to my untrained eye, it all looks and sounds like it was made by more or less the same person. Which makes sense if you assume that all the creators are consuming the same limited range of media and their creations are mostly designed to both imitate whatever that is and gain acceptance and popularity among their peers who are all hooked on the same stuff. This appearance of being so weirdly homogeneous and bent on conformity totally freaks me out. I accept that statistically there could be really unique, provocative fan production out there, I've just never seen it. From my personal position of just seeing it only because there is so much of it that I can't avoid it anymore--and I assume that the stuff I'm seeing is popular because it's being boosted enough to break through my own curatorial behavior--it's all disturbingly oriented on similarity and mass acceptance, and frankly, it's just not that good! Is my very important opinion.

But there's another Real Reason I don't like this stuff, which is that reminds me of my own misspent youth and what I think that did to me. I was a major league '90s X-Men cultist. It was like the only thing I thought about, for years. The early '90s was this moment in comics where the art was very static, pin-up oriented, and kind of sleazy. The writing tended toward dreary, erotic soap opera fare--and to be frank I kind of miss the lack of smirking irony and knowing in-jokes of those days, which wouldn't last much longer. I was a precocious artist and writer as a little kid, but I just didn't have anything in my mind other than imitating Jim Lee and Chris Claremont. To this day I could probably draw every single stock Jim Lee pose (which were once catalogued in a big grid in Wizard Magazine, that was kind of funny and smart even though I'm sure it wasn't meant to be critical) without looking anything up. My art professor parents were pretty unhappy with this; my dad would try to coach me to think up characters that were less like fascist uber-beings--you know, what about a really ugly girl who can control men, what about a big fat guy who is super strong, etc--while my mother would denounce something I was drawing or copying as "BORDERLINE PORNOGRAPHY!!!" and storm out of the room without a discussion. I was totally undeterred; I had absorbed that fake belief that attractiveness was directly correlated with health and fitness, you know, that anyone who takes care of themselves like a superhero would have to do will just naturally start looking like Pam Anderson and David Hasselhoff. I continued to obsessively, exclusively draw skanky-looking characters in painted-on outfits that were either X-Men or so nearly ripped off that it wasn't worth calling them mine.

One day when I was a teenager, I began to realize I couldn't draw anything else. The only mental reference points I had were these commercial products, and I couldn't draw cars or buildings or regular people in regular clothes. (One of the main guys I had imprinted on, the notorious Rob Liefeld, became famous for not drawing backgrounds at all once he was successful enough to refuse, so that's what I was working with) I tried to make myself learn, and it was excruciating. This was nonsense because technically I was very proficient, so there was no reason I shouldn't have been able to improve other than that I was so brainwashed by my childhood favorite thing that I couldn't find the inspiration for anything else.

On the literary side of things, I was also pretty hobbled because I had attached all my lonely, alienated, self-loathing childhood emotions to these narratives about inhumanly perfect people being amazing in between mopey makeout sessions with each other. I mean I just had no connection to really smart or interesting stories, and no taste at all, for a really, really long time. Basically all of my media consumption AND creation had only served my escapist fantasies about a world of beautiful people with unstoppable power. It wasn't great.

Around the early '00s a new breed of independent comic started to emerge, and I was all about it. The art and writing was smart, funny, and most of all really, REALLY cool, and this material took over my life for a little while. But then I started to notice something I found troubling; a large amount of that output was still oriented on the kind of sexiness and fashionability only accessible to the young and beautiful. I had met some of these artists and they weren't all vanity cases, in fact a lot of them were proper geeks, but it seemed like a substantial amount of their work was all about this idea of the hot, impossibly chic teenager. I thought that if I had to draw sexy 19 year olds all the time, no matter what kinds of rebellious style experiments I was up to, it would start to have a really negative effect on me, especially as I exited my 20s. In fact, just reading comics like that all the time--that on their most basic level expressed the longing for something that adults can't have and a lot of kids never had at all--was already having a negative effect on me, and eventually I gave them up.

And if right now you're thinking about the "old man pussy" fandom phenomenon as some kind of alternative to the fixation on the youthful hardbody, it really isn't. You still have these goggles on that evaluate everything you see for potential boyfriend material, you're still boiling everything down to sexual aids and ignoring, like...everything else that art and literature can do for you. I mean you can do that, you have a right. I just also have the right, as previously stated, to think that you're depriving yourself of a richer experience and insulting the multidimensional work that you supposedly love so much.

So anyway, more about ME. Chris Claremont's writing also kind of fucked up my life, overgrown teenager that he is, but it wasn't in quite such a toxic way. It's true that for a long time I was only keying on material that was trashy, soapy, horny, and pretentious, and this definitely affected my writing. Everything I've ever turned out has been overwrought, sappy, and full of juvenile angst, to greater and lesser degrees. It seems like I'm beyond the point of like healing from that inclination. But fortunately I cared about writing, and got cool opportunities to improve, and started reading MORE AND DIFFERENT KINDS OF STUFF. I'm still a melodramatist at heart, but I managed to move on from Chris Claremont to e.g. Douglas Sirk, who could write these delirious tearjerkers that were simultaneously earnest AND full of social critique and ironic reflection on America's destructive cultural ideals. Like that's the hope, that you can take the junk food you're addicted to and make it an ingredient in something bigger, as opposed to making it the only thing you ever have for dinner. That makes you a better creator, and a better consumer. It should make you a better fan too; I'm sure your favorite writer isn't totally thrilled when they craft this whole story out of something they were profoundly motivated to express, and you just suck the characters out of it and mash them into various sexual situations that have nothing to do with anything. I mean everyone likes to count money, but everyone also likes to feel listened-to and like all the work they do to express something personal is actually worth while.

So yeah, I complain about fandom culture from the perspective of someone who was once deeply under that kind of influence. I imagine myself being a little younger, having the internet as a 24/7 reality, and feeling compelled to tailor all of my art and writing to how many Likes and Reblogs it's going to get, and that idea really scares me. Manifestly lots of other people enjoy that lifestyle, but I'm so glad it didn't happen to me. I can sort of feel what it would have been like, based on my real experiences, and I'm so happy none of that defines my adult life--even as a serious nerd with lots of geeky obsessions that bring me constant pleasure and inspiration. I get to indulge those things without ever worrying about impressing other people in my community with my similarity to them. I get to enjoy the excitement of embracing outgrowths of what I love that are strange and new, without constantly repeating myself or wearing the stuff of my childhood into the ground. And not to toot my own horn but maybe, just maybe if there were more nerds like I became, and fewer dogmatic fandom cultists, then the tumblr search function would work a little better, and it would be a better world for all of us.

The End.

Comfort movie this comfort character that, what are you doing to make yourself profoundly uncomfortable, what are you watching that's so disgusting you can't take your eyes off it, what scares you so much it makes you intensely aware of what you take for granted, if you don't have stuff like this in your regimen then you are operating on a serious nutritional deficit and also your opinions on media are worthless.

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imagines-by-cleo · 2 years ago

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More than respect

Big Boss X Fem!Reader NSFW

CW: SMUT, fight kink, dom/sub dynamics, implied age gap, wall sex, rough sex, size kink, dirty talk, slight exhibitionism, nipple play, mutual masturbation, fluff

So this is my first Metal Gear fic which I absolutely had to write for a number of reasons, one of which being that I was playing the phantom pain and that consumed my life for nearly two months. Another is that Snake was the first fictional character I ever simped for back when I was definitely too young to be playing mgs3 and I had to make some kind of tribute to that.

Honestly if I get more than ten likes on this I'm probably gonna die of shock, but let me know what you think and if you want to see more feel free to send me a request!

Training on mother base was a daily occurrence, but training with the Boss himself was a rare opportunity to learn from the best. One by one some soldier would step into the ring desperate to prove themselves in hand to hand combat only to be taken down in a matter of seconds, nearly everyone except you had gone up against him by now and you weren't feeling eager to display your inexperience in front of the entire combat unit.

Shrinking back into the crowd of people you kept watch on the Boss, heat from the midday sun was apparently taking it's toll as he discarded the top of his fatigues leaving him in just pants and the many straps and harnesses that held his gear on missions. His monumental build was a sight to behold, sweat making his light brown hair shine, the myriad of cuts and scars covering every inch of his skin and all lying over taut muscles. You couldn't help but stare with a blush creeping onto your face as his body flexed with every motion, your heart skipped a beat as you remembered your surroundings making you hope that no one noticed your flustered state.

"You there, you're up next." The Boss declared while pointing in your direction, it took you a moment to realize he really was talking to you.

Another soldier shoved you into the center of the ring as the rest grew quiet, looking around you could feel every set of judging eyes burning holes through you as you stepped up, all except the Boss who was waiting patiently for you to make a move. Taking a fighting stance you knew that in a short moment you would end up on the ground like the rest, yet somehow after that first swing you still felt shocked when he grabbed your arm and immediately flipped you over. When your body hit the metal floor all of the breath left your lungs, you struggled to get back on your feet only to have him straddle your back while continuing to pull your arm, effectively keeping you pinned down.

Raising your head as high as you could you looked up at the rest of the men, hearing as they jeered and laughed. Even though you knew you couldn't escape you still writhed around, testing the power of the Boss's grip, being at his mercy while surrounded by dozens of onlookers made you feel helpless in a way that you never expected to enjoy. Unfortunately your body expressed this before your oxygen deprived brain had the time to process, you shuddered beneath him praying that in the rush of things he wouldn't notice the tiny breathless whine that came from your mouth. If he did he didn't say anything, just releasing your arm and stepping away while you lay panting on the ground.

"Alright, that's enough for today. Return to your positions." He declared, prompting everyone to disperse.

Still on the ground trying to catch your breath the Boss flipped you onto your back with the tip of his boot, forcing you to look up at him.

"Except you." He said, his eye narrowed leering down at you. "You need more training, meet me here after sundown."

Questions ran wild through your mind but without the courage to ask any you simply coughed out a reply before watching everyonewalk away. "Yes, sir."

Hours later you were pacing awkwardly around in the exact place you were told to be. The sun had been down for sometime by then and large shipping containers had been placed around the deck, obscuring your view of anyone else that might be nearby. You couldn't bring yourself to simply stand still with all the nervous energy running through your body, along with theories of the Boss's ulterior motives for brining you here. Did he notice how you were staring earlier? Maybe he did want to continue your training, but there was the possibility that he wasn't satisfied with your lack of combat skills and he was going to make you leave the base.

"Kept you waiting, huh?" A familiar voice rang out, making you jolt.

"Boss! You startled me." You explained, straightening up to salute him.

As soon as the words left your mouth you came to the conclusion that you might have failed some kind of test, you stood expecting the lecture about being more aware of your surroundings to come any minute.

"I'm surprised you showed up." He remarked, pulling a cigar out from his pocket.

"Yeah...about that training." Unsure of what he meant exactly you could still deduce that this was a more casual meeting than you would have expected.

"You weren't listening this morning." He answered, smoke swiling out of his mouth as he exhaled.

The low tone of his voice made color rise to your cheeks, you could feel yourself shrinking in the shadow of his imposing frame as shame washed over you making you back into the the metal wall behind you. Your instinct to lie and give some kind of lengthy explanation for why you acted the way you did was nullified by fear that he would see right through it.

"I don't have use for soldiers who can't pay attention." He continued, taking another puff. "If you keep getting distracted what good are you?"

"I can still follow orders, I promise!" You told him perhaps a little too loudly, worried he was about to make you leave the base. "Just give me a chance to prove it Boss."

In the dim glow of his cigar just before he threw it away out you could see a faint smirk on his lips. He stepped closer putting one hand on the container you were backed into, his palm clanking as it hit the metal inches away from your face. The other hand lifted your chin, giving you no choice but to look and lock eyes as he leaned in.

"What had you so distracted anyway?" He asked, though the cadence of his voice told you he already knew the answer.

The darkness may have hid the blush on your cheeks but it couldn't hide the sound of your breathing growing heavier. Being this intimate with the Boss felt wrong, dirty even, but the longer it went on the closer you wanted him and you had the feeling he could see that.

"Are you going to admit it or do I have to tell you how desperate you looked this morning?" He asked again, making your thoughts feel exposed before you had a chance to put them into words.

"I was thinking about you Boss." You confessed, the look in his eye urged you to continue. "It's just that, I've looked up to you for such a long time and seeing you in action today made me realize it was more than just respect."

You softly touched his cheek with your hand, feeling the stubble and scars, their rough texture grounding your thoughts and reminding you this wasn't a dream. As his lips met yours you could taste the tabacco on his breath, you put your other arm behind his head to pull him in and deepen the kiss. His arms engulfed your body, their tight grip putting you in a vice you never wanted to escape. Quickly swiping your tongue over the scar on his bottom lip you unwittingly invited his own tongue to invade your mouth, making you gasp as he explored every place he could reach.

You started to unbutton the front of his fatigues, just enough to slip your hand underneath and test your theory of how firm his chest really was. He groaned as your fingers met his skin, his hands beginning to roam your body in direct response, hungry to touch every inch he could. He wasn't nearly as careful when undressing you as he ripped open the front of your jumpsuit, buttons flying to the ground as the fabric was torn apart.

Cool night air caressed your shoulders as you wiggled out of your uniform letting the top half hang off your waist. With the freedom to touch even more of your body the Boss wasted no time letting his fingers roam the uncharted territory, breaking the kiss only for a moment so he could continue down your neck. Gripping the harness under his shirt, you let out a shaking sigh as he scraped his teeth on the vulnerable skin of your neck, feeling as if a wild beast was simply tasting you before devouring you whole.

"Gonna make that little noise again?" He asked panting.

"Only if you make me." You answered, not expecting him to suddenly turn you around and slam you into the wall.

The thought crossed your mind that someone might hear, but what would they do about it? You lived, died and did everything between at the Boss's command, that included letting him use your body anyway he saw fit. Whining much like before when mouth latched to the other side of your neck while he pulled your jumpsuit farther down, you could feel yourself getting wetter as his crotch pressed against you from behind. It was a well known fact that the Boss was packing some serious heat, but now feeling the real thing straining against thin layers of fabric you couldn't help but feel intimidated. He backed away for a moment to free himself from his pants, even though things were moving so fast already your entire body burned in anticipation.

"Snake." You moaned as he tugged your underwear down.

The sound of his old codename caught his attention, with a slow exhale he paused as if drinking the title in. His chest met with tour back and you felt his breath hot against your ear while you waited for his reaction.

"Call me John." He told you, the tone of his voice more flirty than demanding.

"John." You sang as he finally slid in.

Leaning into the crate your nails scratched against the metal as you took his entire length inch by inch until he finally bottomed out. By the way you were rocking your hips back into his he assumed he didn't have to wait for you to adjust, the way you were moaning was another thing that gave him permission to start moving.

"So big..." You whined, his newer codename seeming more appropriate at the moment.

Even though it the stretch was more than you were used to you let him continue uninterrupted, the absolute power behind every snap of his hips enough to convince you to let him go on at the current speed. You spread your legs as wide as you could without losing your footing to try and get him as deep as possible, though your body conspired against you as you started to clench around him after only a few pumps. Although you had little preparation, unless you count a fistfight as some form of foreplay, the excitement of the scenario was more than enough; followed by his expansive length reaching places you never before thought possible.

"Already?" He questioned as you made some new undignified noises.

You couldn't even answer or apologize while he was continuing at the same speed. Every thrust driving into your oversensitive core felt more and more intense, leaving you to wonder just how much he was capable of.

"I hope you can go another round." He stated, his speed picking up. "I'm not even close yet."

"No." You mumbled. "Don't stop."

Feeling the grin on his face as he bit down into your shoulder your head started to feel light, unable to feel even the legs you were standing on as you lost yourself in the feeling of being pounded into like it was a punishment. Not even realizing how tight his grasp on your hips was until his hands left to lift your bra then grab your tits as soon as they sprang free, making you cry out when your nipples got pinched between his fingers. The rough massage that ensued gave your mind a new reason to spin while every part of your body fell to the whims of the Boss.

"Where have you been hiding these?" He asked continuing to knead his fingers into your breasts.

"I didn't know you would like them so much." You answered.

Only growling in response it was clear he was focused on the task at hand while he continued to play with your breasts. The soft flesh nearly bruising in his careless grasp, letting up only to feel them jiggle with a few aggressive thrusts.

"Wow you really like them." You pointed out in response to his incresingly feral state.

Hearing him pant and snarl like a wild animal behind you made you desperately want to see the source of those wild sounds, you wondered if his teeth were bared, if his eye was squeezed shut, if his hair was an absolute mess. The expected twinge of shame you felt when thinking of the Boss this way was long gone, replaced by sense of pride in the fact that you were the one putting him in this delirium. Tilting your head back you sighed, happily lost in the rhythmless melody of his body coliding with yours.

"Where do you want it?" He grunted, a building climax apparent in his voice.

"Everywh- I mean, anywhere." You mumbled.

After pulling out he turned you around once again, seeing how he was hurriedly pumping his cock you moved to replace his hand with your own. The image in front of you was nothing short of picturesque, Big Boss himself desperately rutting in your grasp; on it's own nearly enough to make you cum a second time. His deep groans as the first few drops started to flow from the tip of his cock were like a melody, soon to be accompanied by your own when his fingers found your dripping hole.

Throwing your head back you let the hot ropes of cum cover your bare stomach, the highest shots reaching your tits, chest heaving while at the same time his fingers thrusted rapidly into your core. Your body started to shake and contract once again, filling the night with unbelievably lewd sounds. Once both of you caught your breath you took a finger and swiped it across your abdomen, collecting as much cum as you could before licking it off. This earned a devilish smile from the Boss as he looked down in admiration at his handiwork while you put yourself back together.

"I need to get back to barracks before someone sees us." You said while pulling your jumpsuit up.

"No one's gonna see." He told you while redressing himself. "By the way, you're on night gaurd duty for this platform from now on."

"Oh." You replied, buttoning your top. "I hope it doesn't get too lonely out here."

"Don't worry, I'll see to it myself that you have some company." He promised letting the air fill with a tension that would have to be released the next time he came to visit your post.

"You're too kind, John." You replied.

"Getting used to saying that name?" He remarked.

"It's a nice name." You answered, earning a smile from him.

"Just don't forget to call me Boss during training, I know you have a hard time controlling what comes out of your mouth." You weren't sure if that was a flirty quip or an actual insult but either way it made you blush.

"I'll be extra careful, Boss." You cooed.

"Good girl." He responded. "Now get back to your post."

After going you separate ways you were overcome with a flood of hard to pinpoint emotions, though your body was more than satisfied and very sore, you felt a new longing for just a little more time with the Boss. For the rest of the night your mind reeled with questions of what this meant for you, how your relationship was going to change, if you would have to hide it from everyone. The only thing you absolutely knew for certain was that you were definitely looking forward to your next training session.

#metal gear solid #big boss #mgs fanfic #big boss x reader #snake x reader #mgs imagines #mgs snake #mgs fanfiction #mgs x reader #mgs peace walker #mgsv #mgsvtpp #mgsv venom snake #venom snake #mgs smut #mgs headcannons

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angeli-marco-writes · 4 years ago

Text

Sherlock Holmes - Kiss Me, Mr Detective

A/N - Season 1!Sherlock, the cutie. And friends to lovers. Two of my favourite things. I do not own Sherlock Holmes, the character, the universe, the adaptations or anything: this is a work of fiction set on the BBC adaptation of Sherlock. Did I still write 8.2k words (exactly) for it? Yes. I also don’t own the song or the lyrics used within, and if you fancy it, listen to ‘Kiss Me’ by Ed Sheeran while reading.

Warnings - Bad language. Mentions of murder and drug usage. Mild angst. Smut, loss of virginity, masturbation, oral m receiving, penetration, unprotected sex, so 18+.

Summary - After a fight with John leaves Sherlock feeling particularly down, he calls on the one person who is always there to support him. Only tonight, it’s different. Feelings come to a head, exploration ensues, but is this just a one time thing? That depends on whether she stays the night...

TO SHERLOCK, it’s just another normal day, whereas to John? He’d rather not admit how regularly these awful days roll around. Sure, the case didn’t go as well as it could’ve, and Sherlock admittedly could’ve made much more of an effort to comfort John after the apparent ‘heartbreak’ he endured. He just could not understand it. Why the hell was John so emotionally responsive to a case they’d been on for less than twenty four hours which turned out to be a bust anyway?

“You are absolutely unbelievable!”

“People die every day, John. You’ve killed people, as have I. It isn’t that great a surprise.” Sherlock deadpans, picking up his teacup, raising it to his lips, drawing a long sip from the warm liquid.

“Oh, yeah, of course. The proud, the cold untroubled heart of stone, that never mused on sorrow but its own.” John mocks. “Do you not even care that people are still dead despite the fact you solved the case?”

“They’d be dead either way,” he reiterates, “at least we got to them before they completely decomposed. Will me caring about them stop them from being dead? No, Dr Watson, it will not.”

“Sherlock!”

“John!” He mimics.

John slams his hands down on the desk, shaking the wood and everything resting on it, surely sending the vibrations through the floor and notifying Mrs Hudson of their ‘domestic’ as she so likes to call them. The buffalo even begins to swing. John’s tea is long forgotten, but Sherlock’s is keeping him grounded, calm, as John waggles his fist in Sherlock’s passive, blank face.

“You-” he pauses, gulping down breath. “You are a fucking machine, I can’t even deal with you right now. How dare you be so cold hearted and untroubled by this. You’re a disgrace.”

As if he hasn’t heard that one before, Sherlock scoffs.

Placing his teacup back down with a clink, he stands, the darkness of the night, of the room, closing in on them both. Nights like these really are danger nights, any night John leaves him. That’s what's coming next, but there isn’t a thing he knows to say or do to prevent the inevitable. He’ll simply just text Her instead, she’ll keep him grounded.

“Why? Emotional context? Emotion, whether of ridicule, anger, or sorrow, whether raised at a puppet show, a funeral, or a battle, is your grandest of levellers. The man who would be always superior should be always apathetic.”

With a huff like a bull, John viciously turns on his heel, blaspheming under his breath, cursing Sherlock out. He reaches for his coat and snatches it off the stand, slamming the door open.

“MACHINE.” John screams before pulling the door shut with a great slam, seething, the coat stand still rocking in his wake.

John’s footsteps thunder down the stairs, but before he’s even gone, Sherlock’s phone is withdrawn, and he’s tapping out a message.

Can you come over? Please? SH

It wouldn’t usually bother him as much. The case didn’t phase him, at all, but John’s opinion did. It always does. But today was a particularly long day of being brutish and rude, cold and distant, his usual and true self, but John’s more and more impatient with him now.

Being called a ‘machine’ is, again, nothing unusual, but this time it stings a little more than usual, especially after his recent arrest, and a fallout with Molly. He only has one person left, right now, who doesn’t hate him. His longest friend, the one he keeps away from it all so as to not tarnish her life with his misdeeds; Y/N, the one he can always rely on.

He knows she’s arrived by the sound of his window crashing open. Crawling up the bricks, skimming the drainpipe, latching onto the ivy; it’s her usual manner of entry. She never uses the door.

Putting his cups and saucers into the sink, he makes his way through the house, opening his bedroom door to find her already sitting there on the bed, her coat hung up on the hook, her work clothes clinging to her body.

“Hey there Mr Detective, you okay?” she asks as jovially as she can muster.

The way he ambles across the room, his dressing gown floating behind him, and slumps down onto the bed, instantly tells her he’s not okay at all. She can’t help but to look upon him sympathetically, edging a smidge closer to him, until he’s prompted enough to wrap his arms around her torso, finding his rightful place tangled around her. She knows him well enough - his past, and his current life - to realise she’s the only person he’s ever felt comfortable enough around to do this with, and that brings her a certain swelling pride in her bosom, one that doesn’t go unnoticed by Sherlock as he feels her skin heat up against his cheek.

It doesn’t take long, either, for his head to follow suit, burying into her chest. He’s always, always had a thing for her boobs, ever since they were in uni together.

That’s something so special about the two of them, he doesn’t have to say anything for her to know he’s not okay the way he does with everyone else. And naturally, he can read everything about her in a split second.

“I’m here, bud.”

Above all else, he just needs to know someone is there for him in moments like these. The world is cruel to him, and Y/N wishes more than anything that it wasn’t. Upon instinct, her hands stray, one to his back, pressing against the silk of his dressing gown, the other cradling his long neck, fingers knotting in the dark curls there.

She isn’t sure how long she stays there, simply holding him, feeling every twitch of his muscles, every breath of his against her skin, but she likes it. Of course she does, every time she likes it. Sherlock brings her an inordinate amount of comfort at the best of times, today is no exception, especially with what the day has held. Even when she’s the one comforting him, he doesn’t realise how much he helps her too.

His flat is so familiar, his bed as comfortable as her own. She knows his sock index, she’s studied his periodic table over his shoulder more times than she’d care to admit, and she even has her own toothbrush in the bathroom in case she has to pop over for an emergency freshen up. Sherlock has, and always will be, her first port of call, and that she remembers as she shifts further onto the quilted bedspread, her phone on his oak bedside locker.

His head begins to stir against her chest, his curls tickling her collarbones, small hums escaping his lips as he pushes himself up, his elegant yet trembling hands still splayed on her waist.

“I could feel your heart beating weirdly, what’s wrong?” he asks, quirking his eyebrows.

“Just the usual.” she vaguely replies.

Sherlock isn’t having it, though, and scans her a little more. “You’re still in your work clothes.”

“Great deduction. I was hoping you’d go a little deeper, though.”

“You hate wearing work clothes longer than necessary, which means you had plans straight after work, considering you finished… five hours ago? That’s your usual time for today. Counting overtime, forty five minutes, walk to your car, another ten, but your umbrella wasn’t working, round that up to an hour, leaving at 6. You arrived home, no, not home, at your boyfriend’s house for dinner. However, you’re not comfortable enough with one another yet for you to use his shower, or perhaps you are, but you elected not to, and stay in damp clothes that only had seventeen minutes to dry with the heater on in your car for the journey there. You ate dinner, Mexican, had a glass and a half of five percent wine, realised you couldn’t drive, but you didn’t particularly want to stay. Nonetheless you sat and watched the telly with him for hours, football, I can see the dreariness in your eyes. I know how much you hate it, and frankly, same. You stayed for almost all of the match, seeing as you’re now sober, but something else happened.” She lulls her head to the side, prompting him, her smile not meeting her eyes. “As soon as the match ended, he tried to make a move on you, he pressed his mouth to yours, he tried to push his hand up your skirt;” his throat bobs with a vicious gulp; despising the thought of anyone else laying a finger on her, “you swatted him away, rightfully so.”

He pauses a minute, his harsh tone of voice and his sharp face softening. He can see the vulnerability in her eyes, her walls about to crumble. This woman he appreciates so much. “He doesn’t deserve you.”

Smiling melancholically up at him, she brings her hand back to his hair, her fingers carding through the soft curls. His face buries back into her chest just as her voice offers a broken whisper, “I broke it off. I was the one who couldn’t commit this time.”

And as she lays her head on top of his, her breathing more shallow, resounding in her chest, he dwells over those very words. The way she said them, not to mention the words themselves, hold a myriad of meaning. What could she possibly-

Oh.

The subtext, yes, impeccable. She’s always had a way with implications and subtext, always knowing that the likelihood of him actually picking up on it is little to none. But now, now he’s become trained to her, her way of life, her way of thinking, her way of speaking. This is too good an opportunity to miss. If she means what he thinks she means, ever hopeful, then this is completely unfamiliar territory.

Gathering all of his courage in one deep breath, he begins to pepper kisses on her skin. The faintest brush of his lips on the tops of her breasts, all that’s available to him with her shirt the way it is. He feels her heart flutter, her breathing stutter, but despite the chemical flush of her chest, he still isn’t quite sure she likes it. Not until he feels her grip on his hair increase, and he glances up to see her head thrown back. Her spine delicately arches against his hand, thrusting her chest further into his face.

His nimble fingers reach for her buttons, undoing the top two, giving him space enough to find the valley between her breasts. Lathering kisses there, licking the swells of her boobs, his tongue pulsates with the increased thrumming of her heart. The sensation is new, so unbridled, and he doesn’t quite know what to do with the stirring in his loins right about now. That unknowing is only further amplified by the sound that rips from her chest when he involuntarily bites down on the supple flesh. It couldn’t be… a moan?

Sure, he understands the chemistry of it, the reactions that occur in the synapses of the brain, the pheromones and hormones released when one is aroused, but this is all new to him. And, from his embarrassingly basic level of theory, surely that doesn’t start until some more stimulation on other parts of the body commence? Nipples, perhaps something lower down… then again, what does Sherlock know?

Of course it’s an intimate moment, the closest he’s been to a woman before, and maybe that’s why he freezes, stops, and she tugs his head up by his hair, her gentle, pleasured smile with her lips softly parted deepening the look of bewilderment painted onto his face. Her eyes are twinkling, alight with an excitement he hasn’t seen for far too long.

“What are you doing?” she whispers.

He shrugs his shoulders with a sudden force, his dressing gown falling off a little. “I don’t know. But now I feel like I read your pining words all wrong.”

She gasps, a wheezing sound, sucking the air from the room. She smacks his arm gently, muffled by his button-down and dressing gown. “I wasn’t pining! I was saying.”

“Hmm, same difference.”

Everyone must acquiesce when it comes to Sherlock Holmes. “But no, you didn’t read them wrong at all, but I know you don’t see me that way, you don’t feel things that way.”

He pauses, his beautiful plump lips pursed, fidgeting on the bed. Brushing her hair off her face reveals the pain she expressed. However, her eyes glued on his, sadness is betrayed in every line of his young, clean-shaven face. His entire bone structure is taking a nosedive.

“For you, I’ve been feeling everything from hate to love to lust, and I guess that’s how I know I want to hold you close.”

“Sherlock...” she whispers, her singular word an inflection of surprise.

Never tearing his eyes from her, his hand comes up to her cheek, rubbing his thumb over the slightly blushing skin, searching her face, with his big blue eyes, for a shred of reluctance. But, all he sees is her, so he elects to do what his heart is yelling at him to do for once, and kisses her breathless. His full lips holding hers, his one hand on her face, the other still wrapped around her back. Hers fly around his neck, clinging to him for dear life.

It doesn’t take long, their movements steadily heating, for their previously slow, intimate kiss to grow into something more, Y/N pulling herself up from the bed and making herself comfortable on Sherlock’s lap. His breath hitches in his throat, a cute little hiccupping sound escaping his lips in between embraces.

As much as he loves just this, soft caressing and gentle petting, he just knows she wants more. He does too, that much is evident from the length prodding at Y/N’s inner thigh as she moves gently on his lap. She won’t make a move, though, he’s too inexperienced, and she’s too much of a sweetheart to corrupt him, so she thinks. Ever since he first saw her, she’s been corrupting him slowly. He didn’t realise at first, but over the years, he began to understand, and now he’s in too deep.

For Y/N? It’s always been him. Every breakup she’s had, she’ll come to Sherlock’s flat, full well knowing the real reason she broke up with them, because she couldn’t commit, because she was too caught up on him.

Skimming his hands beneath her shirt, he savours the press of his hands on her bare skin, warmth seeping from her body into his, his fingers dancing along her spine. Electricity shocks her in bursts, unlike anything else, from his touch alone.

“May I take your shirt off?” he asks.

“Fuck, yes.” she groans. “May I do yours?”

“Be my guest.”

In a tangle of limbs, a few buttons pop off, and eventually, two shirts make it out the other side, tossed from the bed and into the laundry pile. Aka Sherlock’s floor. He’s like that: sock indexes, yet he won’t get a hamper. A walking contrast.

His thumbs press beneath the band of her bra, savouring the pressure of the flesh that falls into his hands, but that’s as far as he gets.

“Never undone a bra before?”

He shakes his head sheepishly. “I know the theory. Just… you always wear peculiar ones.”

“I wear relatively normal bras, and this one is certainly bog standard. Had I known you’d be undressing me Mr Detective, I’d have worn something nicer.”

“Just do it for me.” He requests, chuckling.

She unfastens her bra, and allows her breasts to spill from the cups, into Sherlock’s awaiting hands. The gasp that erupts from him sends Y/N’s brain into overdrive. He’s cupped her chest through her shirt before, buried his nose into her cleavage countless times, but never before have they had such skin on skin contact. Her lips press to his neck, shifting her closer to him. Sucking on his pressure point, she receives a similar gasp in response, only this one is more guttural, more a sound of pleasure than surprise. He’s wilting from a single kiss to his neck.

“Has no one ever given you a hickey?” She husks in his ear, her voice alone sending tremors down his spine.

“N- fuck, no.”

“I’ll make it worth it. All of this.”

“I know you will.”

She fuses her lips onto his again, savouring the faint hesitations as he grapples with his breath, eager to get some control on his mind with all that’s happening. Never did she ever think Sherlock would be here beneath her, his rough fingertips brushing over her peaked buds, and his palms dancing over her waist. Never did she think she’d hear him whisper his next words, either, not in a million years.

“More.” he pleads. “Can we do… more? Whatever that entails?”

“That depends what you want to do.”

“Get me out of these damn trousers. They're rather uncomfortable.”

She snorts lightly, a piggy like sound, the one they bonded over all those years ago. “I can feel why.”

“I imagine you want out of your work trousers, too.”

“God, yes; they’re ghastly.”

“I don’t think so.” he hums. “You look nice.”

Her cheeks begin to burn, blood rushing to colour them, betraying her true feelings, but as he tweaks her nose playfully, the little snort escapes again.

They were in the dining hall, second week of university, almost ten years ago, and Y/N was sitting with her friends, downing enough coffee to sink a ship, eating her hangover away, when her friends decided to make her laugh with tales of last night's drunken events. Unbeknownst to her, one of the greatest minds of the twenty-first century was sitting just a few seats down on the half-empty bench, watching her perceptively in his periphery. That’s when he first heard the sound. The cutest thing, and it startled him into action, beginning his deductions almost instantly. Admittedly, her student ID on the table aided him a little.

He shocked her from her haze, too, as soon as he spoke her name.

“Y/N, eighteen, jurisprudence first year, freshers week over with. You left a boyfriend back home, but you’re more sad about leaving your dog, as I would be. You don’t particularly care about law but know it’s a good undergraduate to receive anyway. Dyed hair, extrovert, killer hangover, and apparently there’s a little piggy living inside your nose. Sherlock Holmes, would you like some aspirin?”

“That’s weird; what are you, some kind of detective?” She asked, sans malice, a playful bounce to her words.

“Chemistry, going for a masters. But I do like the mystery, yes.”

“So you’re… bright. Nice to meet you, Sherlock, and it seems you know almost everything you need to know about me. But yes, I will take that aspirin, if you don’t mind. How was your weekend?”

He smiled at her, the first true smile he’d given in a long time. “It was nice, thank you.”

And thus a friendship was born, all because he heard her little piggy snort.

Her slender fingers work wonders with the fastener and zip of his suit trousers, and even manage hers too, all within the space of a few seconds, but Sherlock is reluctant to let her go, even just to get her trousers off.

“I need to sit up, just for a minute.”

“No.” Sherlock commands, insistent. “We can make this work.”

“Sure we can, but it won’t be very comfortable. Come on.”

She’s barely peeled away from him and wrestled hers off before he’s drawing her back in for a kiss, his trousers settled just above his knees.

“Sherlock,” she protests, mumbling against his lips, her hands on his heavenly, broad, muscular shoulders. “Sher!”

Her squeal at his sudden tug on her panties disappears, captured by his eager mouth. And in fact, her panties seem to disappear along with it, thanks to Sherlock’s swift movements and nimble hands. Maybe he’s had some experience to be so good at this…

“You sure you wanna go this far?”

“More sure than I’ve ever been. I need you.”

He takes a deep inhale, dropping his forehead against hers, his breathing coming out in bursts as he tries to get a grasp on the situation. “Kiss me.”

She doesn’t need to be told twice, instantly getting to work on the waistband of his boxers as his tongue lavishes her own. His hips rise briefly, just long enough for her to tug the elasticated material from around him, slipping past her, and then he kicks it into their growing pile of clothes. His length falls into her awaiting palm, and-

“Wow.” She exhales in amazement. “If I’d known you were packing this much, I’d have jumped you long ago.”

“No you wouldn’t.”

“Absolutely not, until tonight I thought you’d just laugh at me.”

He pecks her lips affectionately, “Never. You’re bloody beautiful, I’ll let you do anything to me.”

“Hmm, anything, you say?”

Stifling a chuckle against her neck, he recommences, “Maybe not anything.”

Yeah, that's definitely the right call. Still, she finds herself all but clawing at him, her breath hovering teasingly just over his lips, their noses touching, her hands clamped to his cheeks, feeling the building heat there. She must be making such a mess of his bed right about now, but for one night? It can’t matter.

This is a one time thing, it has to be. Sherlock just needs to release some tension, she just so happens to be there. Still, she can’t prevent the little glimmer of hope shining through at the possibility of this being a more-than-one-time thing. The moral compunctions of their friendship after this don’t matter anymore, because he’s leaving a fire in his wake, his delicious fingertips digging bruisingly into her bum before trailing lightly up her spine, skimming her shoulder, brushing her neck - arched for him to reach where he wants, able to mark her as his own - and finally slipping over her lips, taken obediently by her awaiting mouth. Christ, if there’s one thing she hopes for tonight, it’s that his actions never relent.

Whether it’s what he intends to happen or not, his fingers in her mouth give her an idea, one she prays he goes along with at least a little, so she pulls away. The dirty, telling smile on her face hints at what she’s about to do, lending Sherlock to shift a little more up the bed, his eyes following her every move. Hands splayed on his thighs, her small fingers gripping onto the fine hairs there, she begins to take his tip into her mouth, never once breaking eye contact with him. Yeah, this is what’ll drive him insane.

Inch by inch, she takes him into the welcoming heat of her mouth, pulling off slowly, only to go down again. She adds her tongue into the mix at some point, too, and her hand, on what she can’t reach, tickling his balls, but further than that, his mind is blank. Hot white, washed with pleasure. The sounds he emits are other worldly, so much that he has to muffle himself with his own hand; what would Mrs Hudson say? He’s always had such control over his mind and body, but this… he’s slowly losing all semblance of control, and he’s not even mad about it. What he does know is that there’s a building heat in his abdomen, a coil about to spring, and his cock is beginning to twitch. If she keeps going this incredible way, her teeth grazing him ever so gently, adding another new sensation into the mix, he’s inexorably going to finish before he can help it.

“As much as I adore your torturous ministrations, I think I need to be inside you…” He husks, his voice deep.

A smirk gracing her lips, she looks up at him through half-lidded eyes, mischief glinting in her pretty little mesmerising eyes for a second, before she hollows her cheeks and takes him wholly, allowing his length to slip partially down her throat. Her moan reverberates around him, and Sherlock begins to thrash above her, scrunching the duvet in his hands, not caring if it creases. If there’s one thing Sherlock hates, it’s creases. And being called a machine by his best friend. Right now, though, it seems as though every misstep in his day has led him here, into the welcoming heat of Y/N’s mouth, taking him so eagerly, her tongue lapping at the vein on the underside of his dick, a string of saliva remaining as she pulls away.

“I think you’ve got a couple of rounds in you, Mr Detective. Can you do that for me?”

“Y-yes.” He stammers, his head tossed back in pure ecstasy a moment later as she begins to work on the head with kitten licks. “But… can I s- fuck me, say something?”

“I plan on it.” she chuckles, “anything.”

She goes back to peppering kisses all over his member, tip to base, brushing his balls, working her way back up.

“Touch yourself f- for me.”

“What? Why?”

Her tone is more inquisitive than anything else, but upon that playfully rueful look in his lust-darkened baby blue eyes, she knows he’s going to get her back for this little display, and he’s just worked out how. It works both ways, she can prepare herself for what’s to come next while pleasuring him. And he gets to watch. It’s a win-win for him. Maybe he likes this sex thing a little more than he’s letting on.

“Are you sure you want me to? I’ll just make a mess on your sheets, Sher.”

She swallows him again, bobbing her head up and down on his length a few times while he grapples with literal reality. He’s teetering on the edge. One more move, and he’s a goner. His head is already against the wall, lolled there.

“I don’t care about the sheets, darling, I need you ready for me.”

She gulps, nods, and reaches one hand around her, skimming over her stomach, until it nestles between her thighs. She rubs her thumb over his tip, collecting the pre-come beading there, while she rubs over her throbbing pearl, pressing softly. Then, as she inches down on his cock, taking him in her mouth, she also collects the slick from between her thighs, and uses it as a lube to push a finger inside herself. Of all the times she’s touched herself, she never imagined, even in her wild Sherlock fantasies, that she’d be doing it with his dick down her throat. With every bob of her head, she scissors herself more, sinking back onto her fingers.

“I think I’m-” Sherlock begins to say, his words cut off by an utterly obscene moan splitting the air.

She hastily abandons her one post, and wraps both of her hands around his girth, working on what she can’t fit into her mouth with her increased speed, licking and suckling his head as he begins to fall apart, coming, with a scream, down her throat, his one hand clamped over his mouth, biting down harshly to silence his cries; the other buried in her hair.

His whole body falls lax, completely spent, meanwhile, Y/N savours every drop she’s been able to draw from him. He softens in her mouth, allowing her change to slip away from him, grasping a tissue from the bedside to wipe away any excess. That’s certainly something she never thought would happen…

He’s calm, though, smiling lazily through hooded eyes, his breathing regulated once more, making beckoning motions to her with his big hands. He’s placated, though, and sliding her hands into his, she’s allowed time enough to get into place, smiling softly at him, raking her fingers over his scalp in a comforting way. Even as she sits herself on his lap, she can feel him hardening beneath her ass, slowly but surely. She was right about him, he’s definitely got another round in him.

“Do you have a condom?” he asks.

“No, sweetheart, they’re in my other bag. I didn’t plan on getting any for a while… do you?”

“Not in here, that I’m aware of. John may have stashed some in my less favoured dressing gowns or socks, and he definitely has some upstairs, but I’m unawares.”

“I’m gonna sound crazy here, but do we need one?” She says hesitantly. His eyes widen, he cocks his head to the side. “I was tested after my last partner, I’m clean, and on birth control. You’re a virgin. There’s no point, is there?”

“You have a considerably good point.”

With that, energy rejuvenated a little, he wraps an arm around her body, flipping them over so he’s on top, shadowing her, looming over her, gazing down at every inch of her naked beauty.

“Take your time. I’ll be your safety.”

“I know.” he whispers, a tearful smile making its way onto her face. “Thank you.”

He needn’t say more, because she already knows why she’s being thanked. For her kindness, for making him so comfortable, for accepting the fact he’s still a virgin in his late twenties and, if he’s being honest, has no damn clue what the practicality and reality of sex is. Sure, he’s seen porn. He’s also looked at John’s laptop. But that doesn’t prepare one for when the moment comes. It’s like all of that goes out the window, and he simply remembers the first time he opened a biology textbook at secondary school, pictures of flushed organs staring back at him, desperately waiting to be relieved. That’s what his own coock is like right now, already hard again, virtually pulsating with hunger in his palm. He strokes himself a couple of times, glancing down at Y/N’s wide eyes.

“Are you okay? Can I…”

“Yes, Sherlock,” she chuckles, “whenever you’re ready.”

Now, he thinks. He rubs two digits through her folds, gathering her wetness, enamoured with the way it glistens on his fingertips. Tentatively, he brings his fingers up to his mouth, swirling his tongue around them to get a taste. Eyes rolling into the back of his head, he moans. She’s better than any cup of tea he’s ever had.

His cock slaps against his lower stomach pleadingly, so he grasps it in his hand, and begins to enter her, pushing gently, feeling every flutter of her walls. Her arms fly out, hands grasping his shoulders, nails leaving crescent moons in their wake at the delicious stretch. It’s nothing like they’ve ever felt before.

“Can I move?” He asks, balls deep inside her, their pelvises flush against one another.

“Please.” She all but begs.

Before doing anything else, Sherlock hooks one strong arm around her body, malleable in his hands, and holds her chest against his. Her breasts push into his skin, her nipples gaining friction from the dusting of hair there. Her one hand cups his slender neck, the other, his sharp cheek. Their eyes meet in a fierce gaze of burning intensity, and he begins to move. Slow, calculated, sharp thrusts punctuate her core. With every heavenly stroke, he can feel the ridges in her velvet walls, squeezing around him unwittingly.

“Jesus,” she cries, her clutch increasing.

“Hmm, not quite.”

The smirk in his words is quite literally audible. He’s so cocky, so full of himself, and fuck if she can’t feel another gush of arousal coursing through her, drenching his cock. How does he manage to be so attractive when he’s so dishevelled?

“Is that good?” He asks, unsure.

“So good.”

She brings her legs up, skimming the clenched backs of his thighs, until they wrap around him, drawing his hips into her at a new and improved angle. Heels digging into the base of his spine, he begins to move with a new purpose, his thrusts more passionate as his breath is drained from him by her kisses, his eyes alight with a new flame.

“Oh my God, Sherlock.” She pants, pulling him in for a kiss he greedily returns.

He drives his hips deeper, squeezing his fingertips into her supple waist bruisingly. It’ll be a mark that she belonged to him once, even just for one night. That’s when he reaches that special spongy spot that makes her entire body buckle. She all but screams, pressing into him wholly.

The coil is building, ready to break. He seems to be nearing the edge, too, his member twitching inside her when he buries himself particularly deep. She’s oh so fucking close… She licks into his mouth filthily, desperately clashing her teeth with his, eager for his kisses to tide her over. Silence her. Shifting his supporting hand, he trails one dextrous finger around to circle her clit, adding the faintest pressure for a moment. She mewls as he groans into her hot skin, clawing at him, entirely at his whim. Now he knows where to press, he settled his grip back around her, and draws her in close. This time around, he bends his knees a little more to measure his movements more carefully, ensuring that he ruts up and brushes her sensitive bud with his pelvis, helped by the extra friction of his neatly trimmed pubic hair on every thrust within her, his tip just scraping her g-spot.

“I- Sherlock, please tell me you’re- oh sweet mercy- close.”

He grunts softly in her ear. “So close.”

Their lips meet tenderly, passionately, in what they acknowledge to be a final kiss, moans mixing between them, savoured by the other.

His thighs clench, her legs tighten around his waist, and finally, her sweet walls flutter, squeezing him as she reaches her climax, his not following long after, spilling inside her, painting her soft walls white, marking her.

“Y/N,” he cries in ecstasy as his orgasm reaches him. “Sher…” she repeats, her saving grace as pleasure washes over her entirely.

Their whole bodies wind up pressed together, bound together as one, skin on skin completely, becoming one another.

He lets her down gently, unravelling his grip, unsurprised when their sweaty skin sticks together. Her long legs unfurl, splaying in a butterfly. Sherlock tumbles ungracefully away, somehow landing with a certain gangly elegance on the space of mattress beside her, his arm instinctively flying over to place on her stomach, the skin hot and flushed red. Her chest moves hastily up and down with the thrumming of her heart, while his barely shifts despite his shallow breaths, his white skin glistening in the moonlight.

“Are you okay?” He huffs, turning on his side. “You look pretty fucked out.”

His baby blue eyes train instantly on her nipples, hard in the open air. This is the first notifier, the first inkling she has to feel self conscious, so she draws the sheet up around her as best as she can. Sherlock’s not having any of it, taking a stronghold on her arms, and pulling her until she’s lying on him, naught to separate them.

“I’ve never been this close to anyone physically and y'know.” He hums tiredly. She’s never heard him sound tired before…

She smiles up at him as best she can, “Are you glad?”

He begins to hold her ever closer, squeezing her tighter, feeling every ridge of her body.

“I’m so glad that you were my first, in so many ways.”

Praise from Sherlock is a rarity, and she’ll take it as and when she can, savouring every moment, this time by holding him like a koala, her grip not wavering.

“I’m glad too, Mr Detective.”

He brushes a kiss to her cheek, “As much as I like this, we need to get you cleaned up.”

A supporting arm beneath her bum, he picks her up, and unsteadily ambles into the bathroom.

“I don’t know much about this, but I know you should probably use the toilet, should you want to avoid a UTI, so if you’d like me to leave…”

He sets her down on the loo seat, cupping his hands over his nether regions, and he hurries to grasp for things, until she puts her hand on his arm, squeezing in a conciliatory manner.

“You do remember the camping trip, don’t you? You really don’t have to leave just because I have to pee, you never did before. In fact, you frequently annoyed me with it if you had a particular point to make, steadfastly refusing to leave the bathroom after following me in there when I went to pee. Why does this change anything?”

He shrugs, dropping whatever was in his arms, “It just doesn’t feel the same now, though.”

“Ooo, and now Mr Detective feels things.” She jokes, poking at his ribs.

He recoils, chuckling with her, “Only for you.”

As Y/N washes her hand, Sherlock begins to wrangle with a floorboard, clattering about until he eventually pulls out a small lock box, from which he withdraws a packet of brand new marks-and-spencer's ladies briefs.

“Why the fuck do you have these? Anything you wanna tell me?” she asks, eyes wide.

“John’s idea. He has plenty of girls over here who frequently stay the night, simply a precautionary error.” He takes a beat, gargling with some mouthwash, “they’re clean, new, I just don’t like the idea of you in dirty underwear, and I know how reluctant you are to go without them whenever you’re not in your own bed. I stayed with you enough nights in university to know that.”

Those nights were awfully painful. She’d take the floor, he’d take the bed, and every time she’d have to wash the sheets. He’d sweat and vomit, shake and cry, plead for the pain to be over. He wouldn’t go to hospital, he wouldn’t call his brother, he’d just turn up on her doorstep, high as a kite, almost in tears, knowing he’d gone a little too far. And each time, it was a little farther.

“Thank you, Sherlock.”

She takes them from him, and begins to shimmy them up her legs, only prevented by Sherlock moving to grab a handful of her arse.

“Hmm, I like this. Fancy another round?” He smirks.

“I’m too tired, babe. Give me a bit.”

He can see the lazy smile on her face, the tiredness in her pretty eyes, so he wets a flannel, and begins to clean her up with gentle movements between tender kisses.

“How do you know how to do all of this?” She asks, inquisitive more than anything.

“Instinct, I suppose. I never read or learned about it, seeing as I never thought it would happen.”

She snaps the waistband before moving her hands to his waist, leaning up onto her toes to reach him, kissing her softly.

“Look at you now.”

After brushing their teeth in an amicable silence, their pinky fingers overlapping on the porcelain of the sink, he aids her back to the bedroom, settling her on the bed. She has things here: deodorant, toothbrush, moisturiser, and yet somehow she doesn’t have underwear, even after all these years. Perhaps that's one too many things to explain…

With superfluous extravagance, he throws her his shirt, offering her a wry wink. She finds a blush clawing its way onto her cheeks, dumbfounded. It smells like him, just like a forest glade if it was rained on by tea and cigarettes. Maybe he’ll let her keep it as a memory.

In such a short amount of time, she’s learnt that he has a very sensitive neck. Very. A single kiss there has him biting back a moan. A low one at that, considering his deep voice also drops almost an octave when he’s aroused. His nipples are almost as sensitive as his neck, and he rather likes it when she tugs on them unwittingly.

His first orgasm comes quickly, but his refractory period is astonishing, and it takes longer to achieve a second high, long enough to make her come more than once, she assumes, though her first orgasm was mind blowing enough for two. Perhaps that’s just because it’s his first time, but it’s impressive nonetheless.

What’s the point in learning all of this if, once he comes around from his post-orgasmic haze, he’ll pretend like it never happened, in typical Sherlock style?

The shirt, though a small gesture, means a lot, and her vision begins to cloud as she looks down at the black cotton.

“You mean you want me to stay?” She croaks.

Sherlock turns to her from his set of drawers, his face full of apparent obviousness, brows furrowed in that cute bewildered way.

“Of course I want you to stay.” He states, like it’s the plainest thing in the world, like it’s stupid for her to even ask. But she’s silent, and when she says nothing in response, he launches into a long winded explanation: don’t show sentiment. “I- I just mean, i-it’s midnight, I’m not having you out in London alone. You stay with me. Only if you want to as well...”

She nods eagerly, “Yes. Yeah, course I want to stay.”

He all but leaps access the room, jumping onto the bed, before planting a proper smooch on her lips, grinning down at her. He slips into his usual side of the bed, and she takes hers, rolling to look at him.

“Don’t get cold.” He warns, tucking the duvet up around her shoulders. She giggles like a child, that small snort sounding again, prompting Sherlock to press his thumb to her nose like a button. “How are you… feeling?”

“I’m fine bub, really. That bloke doesn’t matter to me at all. Bit of a scumbag if I’m honest. You’re the one I’m with, the one I wanna talk about. How are you feeling? Must’ve been a pretty big blow up with John for you to call me and be so... teary.”

He sighs, crestfallen, “He called me a machine.”

Her gasp pierces the air, her hand flying to his hair, stroking in consolation, cooing senseless reassurances to him. She’s done this innumerable times, but now it feels different, like there’s no barrier.

“He’s done it so many times that it needn’t bother me anymore, but the way he looked at me, like I was this abhorrent monster, especially after the day and the disappointing case we had, it got to me. I hate having feelings.”

“You don’t have to hide them with me, though.”

He hums gently, burying into her chest. “I know. That’s why I treasure you so dearly.”

“That means you also have to trust me, and you’re not going to like what I have to say.” His chest heaves, shifting her whole body. That’s his way of giving in. “Please just talk to John. You know that whenever he leaves, he’ll come back, and try to pretend it never happened. He needs to know you’re human and that he upset you, but also that the case upset you as well. No one’s superhuman, and once you let John in on the fact that you’re not a machine, things between you will be so much easier, because you might agree for once.”

“I suppose you’re right.” He grumbles.

He pulls her into his warmth, hooking her leg around his as he snakes his arms around her back, breathing deeply from the crook of her shoulder. She begins to pepper kisses on his salty skin, savouring the taste with every small swipe of her tongue.

“Your heart’s against my chest, your lips pressed to my neck,” he breaks off with a faint whimper when she sucks a little harder, “I’m falling for your eyes, but they don’t know me yet.”

“Of course they do,” she whispers brokenly, hoarsely, “they’ve always known you.” She swallows thickly, “Does that mean it’s a feeling you’ll forget?”

“No, I don’t think I ever can.”

The silent words that pass between them both are so special, too special to be spoken aloud. ‘Think I’m in love now.’

“Kiss me like you wanna be loved.” He begs.

And really, who is Y/N to deny him? They just stay that way a little while, revelling in their lazy kisses, until she begins to fall asleep. It isn’t the first time she’s fallen asleep in his bed, not by any means, but it’s the first time she’s fallen asleep in his arms. She isn’t mad about it.

“Settle down with me, cover me up, cuddle me in. You were made to keep my body warm.” She smiles into her words, and embeds herself into him, entirely covered by the duvet, spattered in his kisses, safe in his arms. Sherlock feels safe with her legs around him, her fingers in his curls, holding himself against her. Amicable silence is how they drift off, Peaceful.

John re-enters 221B at a respectable hour. He got a fair amount of sleep on Greg’s sofa, having no girlfriend in the picture right now, but not enough to deal with Sherlock just yet. Not before his coffee. He expects to see Sherlock sitting in the exact same spot as when he left, perhaps just with a refill of tea, his fingers still steepled beneath his chin, eyes closed yet wide awake. Instead, he arrives at a seemingly empty, considerably clean flat, with no Sherlock in sight. Perhaps the unsleeping man must actually be asleep, he thinks, so he quietens down, and toes off his shoes before wandering farther into the flat. Even if the man does piss him off extraordinary amounts, perhaps he should just check he’s okay…

He gives the bedroom door a quiet rap, listening in momentarily before pushing it open. Frankly, he’d rather have found Sherlock with a cigarette in hand and the whole flat torn to shreds for the level of surprise he gets upon reaching the bed. His first idea is to scream bloody murder, but that might annoy Mrs Hudson, and upon stepping closer, even in the sliver of daylight through the curtains, he sees the duvet riding down a little. The last thing in the world he ever thought he’d see: Sherlock in naught but boxers pressed against a half naked woman, his palm splayed on her bare thigh. Sherlock? Spooning? It seems so, his entire body pressed to this woman. John feels himself go rigid, his feet glued to the floor, his gaze unmoving from shock.

It takes his phone to buzz in his pocket to get him moving, and when he does, all he tries to do is balance precariously on his tip toes in a wry attempt to get a birds-eye view of the whole thing. He’s not disappointed, or disturbed, once he does, though, his army agility proving useful. Sherlock’s hand is holding her, fingers entwined, just next to her chest. He wonders how comfortable it is, but if they’re staying this way, it can’t be too bad. Maybe all Sherlock needed to loosen up was a good shag.

She’s wearing his shirt, too; Sherlock’s black dress shirt from the previous day. And Sherlock? He never seeps in anything less than a full set of pyjamas, he’s weird like that .

This girl begins to stir, her lips parting gently, small hums escaping. Next, her eyelids flutter, and her hair shifts on the pillow. He didn’t make any noise, did he? John was specifically careful not to, just in case. He doesn’t fancy Sherlock’s wrath just yet.

One eye opens, and she whispers, almost incoherently, “Hi John.”

How she knows his name and who he is, he’s not at all sure, because he doesn’t think he’s ever seen this face in his life. The hair is familiar, and maybe, if she were more awake, he’d recognise her smile, but he’s never seen a woman in Sherlock’s company beside Molly Hooper. Speaking of…

Before he can even say anything, though, before he can ask who she is or if she wants tea or if she date-raped his roommate, she’s mumbling, and detaching her hand from Sherlock’s, rolling over. Dumbfounded, John just stands there and watches her cuddle into Sherlock’s chest, her arms wrapping around his torso like second nature. Even in his sleep, not consciously thinking about his actions, he grips her back - one hand resting just above her bum, and buries his nose into her neck.

John can’t help but smile to himself. Maybe their fight was for the best if Sherlock now has a girlfriend, someone he turned to for solace. So, he grasps for the top of the duvet and pulls it up over both of their figures, reaching their shoulders, and leaves, staring wistfully for a brief moment at the seemingly happy couple.

The weight of the duvet of what startles Sherlock, though, stirring him a little, inviting him to him against Y/N’s skin, smiling with eyes barely open. This is really nice, he thinks to himself, not waking up alone.

She smiles back blearily, and in her morning voice, whispers to him, “Kiss me Mr Detective.”

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fandomlovingfreak · 3 years ago

Text

Glacial Passion (5/?)

Regulus Black/Reader

Rating: SFW, T+

Trigger Warning: Arranged Marriage

Word Count: 1998

MasterList Link I AO3 Link I Wattpad Link

Summary: Glacial, cold, icy… all words that described Regulus Black’s grey eyes. Was there truly no emotion behind those eyes, or did a caring man exist beneath? Could she defrost those glacial eyes?

Disclaimer: Regulus Black (Walburga Black, Orion Black, and Sirius Black) is a character from Harry Potter by J.K. Rowling. Reader or y/n is not owned by Rowling. This work has not been created for profit or financial compensation, and is a transformative fair use work in accordance with Section 107 of the United States Copyright Act.

Notes: My only note is that the characters in this fanfiction do some questionable things. This does not at all reflect my personal morals or anything I would do (and certainly hope you would not do). Please don’t read this story if you can’t separate fiction from reality. Fanfiction is for entertainment and should not be something that teaches you to be or act a certain way. Thanks!

Enjoy

***

Regulus is met with silence when (y/n) climbs into their bed after the fight and more silence when she doesn't acknowledge him in the morning, dressing silently before sitting on the balcony with her book.

He glances out of the glass door, watching her devour the words on the worn book. Sighing loudly, he looks back towards the parchment on the desk. He didn't exactly know what to say to Sirius. He knew he wanted his older brother to know about the developments his life had taken in the past month, but how do you complain without sounding entirely pathetic? Especially when your complaining was truly aimed at your own actions and attitudes. Sirius would love (y/n); he was sure he would. In a way, (y/n) sort of reminded Regulus of his brother. She was so adamant about not following the rules that people like them followed. Obviously, she hadn't been able to escape Pureblood society the way Sirius had... He doubted, though (y/n) would have tried. It had to be harder to be a woman in the circles they found themselves in. He honestly couldn't imagine living at the level she was expected to.

It's not like he had any special freedom from the constricting nature of their society, but he could do many things she couldn't while still maintaining his reputation. He could have affairs, he could (but personally wouldn't) abuse his spouse, he could even live separate from her without causing a stir. All these things happened within marriages like their own, and only the women seemed to be ruined by their actions and the actions of their husbands and fathers.

Regulus picks up his quill, intending to finally start this blasted letter. Where does he even begin?

Sirius,

I do not have any great excuses for my lack of communication, other than the last month, which has been one of the most hectic of my life. I am unsure what you have heard. I doubt you have a full picture of what my life has become, as I would hope you would reach out to congratulate your younger brother on his recent nuptials if you had heard.

My new wife, (y/n) Black née (y/ln), apparently checked off the boxes our parents found necessary for the next Mistress Black. Funnily enough, though, I'm not sure they did much research into who she is as (y/n) could hardly be considered the traditional Pureblood bride.

But that is hardly a bad thing; if anything, I find her refreshing, if not a bit maddening at times. I had been somewhat afraid to have a meek and mild wife who would cower under my gaze. (y/n), despite being brought up similarly to us, she seems to have developed her own personality outside of Pureblood society. She isn't bitter or greedy like the other girls. The only piece of jewelry I have been able to give her without argument has been that horrible engagement ring-- you know, the one from mum's side. She doesn't want the things most of these Pureblood girls want. Jewelry and expensive things don't seem to make her happy the way mother said they would.

Even as she is different, I have this ever-increasing fear that I might drive her towards the other's level of bitterness and unhappiness. I will be the first to admit that I have no idea what I am doing with women; this fact has not changed in my marriage. It's become even more apparent that I haven't a clue how I should behave as I've been forced into this relationship.

It has also become clear that Mother's advice has been shit, as every attempt I've made with my bride has been met with annoyance from her. I can't seem to give her what she truly wants. Embarrassingly enough, what she talks of-- craves from me is some sort of romantic connection. This is something I hadn't planned on in an arranged marriage, and I'm not sure if I will be able to indulge her without a bit of deceit.

Which I would feel horrible for doing-- pretending.

Last night, like many nights in recent weeks, I found myself in an argument with my wife over this exact topic. Something she said triggered a memory, hopefully, a memory that you have a recollection of as well.

Do you, brother, have any memories of our dear mother when she was-- well, motherly, to say the least. Warm and loving, as a mother should be. When she would admit to us in hushed tones that the love we showed her was the replacement for the lack of love between Orion and herself?

During the heated exchange with my wife, I was struck with that strange memory, and I realized deeply and uncomfortably that I was in the early stages of pushing my own wife towards becoming our mother. Something, I realize now, I cannot allow to happen.

Pushing this girl towards unhappiness when she was forced into marrying me by her parents is unacceptable on my part. I'm completely aware that it is me who is making us miserable. I should be happy, or at least satisfied enough in the marriage to indulge her, to try. (y/n) is beautiful, everything a man could want in a wife. And I do want her.

Yet, I do not know how to want her the way she is expecting me to. And, I have to reiterate that I don't know how to even-- fall in love, I suppose.

Through my woeful letter, I hope you see a solution to my dilemma. Or at least can offer advice as I have no idea which direction I should go at this time.

Sincerely,

Regulus places his quill to the side, reading over the content of his letter. At times, he sounds like a pathetic child whining, but he hopes his brother can see he sincerely wants his advice.

Very much requires any advice Sirius may have.

None of Sirius's advice could be helpful on the trials and tribulations of marriage per se, but if anyone had experience in relationships, it was Sirius Black. Sirius, who wooed and flirted his way through life, would know exactly how he would be able to win (y/n) over and hopefully form a romantic relationship with her.

Slowly, Regulus gets up from the desk, taking his time to cross the room. Opening the glass door to the balcony, he pokes his head out. When (y/n) doesn't look up, he clears his throat.

She freezes, slowly lowering the book enough for their eyes to meet, but doesn't say a word.

"I'm going to go to the lobby to have this posted." Regulus feels the light pink of embarrassment on the tops of his cheeks.

(y/n) nods once before giving her attention back to the blasted book. Regulus's lips pinch before he shuts the door a bit louder than necessary.

Much to his annoyance, the banging noise doesn't seem to faze his wife.

He stalks down to the library in a mood, the letter to Sirius gripped tightly in his right hand.

A young witch greets him, asking if he needed any assistance with anything.

"I require an owl. I have a very urgent letter that needs to arrive as soon as possible."

"Okay, if you'll follow me, we can get your letter sent." The witch leads him up to the rooftop, showing him the hotel's fastest owl.

***

A sharp knock on their suite's door startles Regulus, who had been reading the Prophet to pass the time. He gets up off of the room's couch, opening the door to an older gentleman.

"Mail delivery, Master Black." The old man hands him a hastily folded piece of parchment addressed to him in Sirius's messy excuse for handwriting.

"Uh-- thank you." Regulus digs in his pocket, pulling out money to tip the man. They exchange the items, and Regulus hurries over to the desk. Hurriedly, he breaks the wax seal and opens the letter.

You got married?

Ah, yes. His ever eloquent brother didn't even bother to address the letter, jumping right to the point.

Regulus reads on...

You got married? And I didn't even get an invitation? I'm sort of hurt, but yet again, mum would've been pissed if I showed up. How fun would that have been, though? Me crashing your wedding in my Docs and my worn Led Zeppelin shirt. Mum would've freaked.

We really missed an opportunity, Reggie.

But, wow. You married. That's wild. And she's a bit wild as well? How did you manage to end up in an arranged marriage with what seems like the most unique of the Pureblood lot? Besides me, of course.

I'll have to meet this fascinating (y/n) (y/ln)-- or should I say (y/n) Black? Weird-- I have a sister-in-law. That feels too grown-up and stuffy.

Maybe it feels wrong, mostly because you never dated anyone, or at least anyone I knew of.

The point you made about you knowing absolutely nothing about women is incredibly accurate, I'm afraid, Reggie. The poor girl, I hope you haven't been ignoring her like Orion does to Walburga. But, I'm almost certain that you have been sort of an ass to her by your letter.

You want advice though, do you now, little brother. Here is my advice to you:

I have dated plenty of people in my days-- plenty. If you truly wish to make your wife (what the hell that is so odd to write!) happy, Regulus, you need to get to know her.

Ask her questions about her likes, her dislikes. What her childhood was like, who her friends are. Even silly things such as how she takes her tea or what she grew up wanting to be as an adult. But you must be prepared to be vulnerable and answer questions she has for you as well. If you can't open up and be vulnerable, you will never be successful in

A) forming a "romantic connection" with (y/n) and

B) falling in love with your wife.

I hope that I have been helpful. My advice is simple, but knowing the woman you promised to spend eternity with is necessary to live a peaceful life. Maybe the whole "happy wife happy life" saying is accurate. Not like I would know, but still.

As for the memory of Walburga you brought up, I do remember instances like that. I hadn't thought about those instances in a very long time. I hope you are successful in your attempts with (y/n). I would hate to see another woman turn out like our mother.

Your brother,

P.S. Take your wife out somewhere romantic! For Merlin's sake, Regulus. You have to have some romance somewhere hidden within you!

***

Regulus decides there's no better time than the present to follow Sirius's advice. Unfortunately, he already used up his one "romantic" idea (really Orion's, but still) with their disastrous dinner the previous night.

His only option would be to find a local who would know of spots he might take his wife to. He reckons the logical locals to ask where these locations would be are the hotel's staff.

The same witch that helped him with the owl still sits at the hotel's lobby desk. She grins widely when she notices he's walking towards her, "Oh! You're back!"

Regulus controls his mild annoyance with the woman as she bats her eyelashes foolishly.

"I wonder if you know any places around the city that you recommend for honeymooners?"

The girl's face falls slightly before she's grinning again, "You're on your honeymoon?"

"Yes, you've probably seen my wife with me," he says, asserting that he does have a wife and that the girl shouldn't get her hopes up, "I'd like to take her out this afternoon, but I'm afraid I know little of the spots couple's usually visit around here."

The witch thinks for a moment, "I think I have a perfect place in mind."

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hellomynamiseglaf · 4 years ago

Text

🌰Chestnuts and Warm Milk🍂

My List of ~Favorites~ for Interactive Fiction and Visual Novels

(This is a work in progress so please bear with me)

Interactive Fiction:

The Wayhaven Chronicles (WIP Series in Development) - @seraphinitegames (Look,,, I’m just... obsessed.. I can’t stop thinking abt it,,, and I'm..... sometimes, I read and I think I feel like I know what love is.)

Mind Blind (WIP) - @mindblindbard (I just,, UGH it’s so good. I can't even say that much because my feelings about it are so potent that everytime I see an update I try to tell myself to leave it alone to play larger portions of updates as a treat and everytime my willpower FAILS and I replay the demo like twice in a row)

Demon: Recollect ; Forsaken (WIP) - both by @bathalafiction (whew...WHEW!!! Are you kidding me?? ARE YOU KIDDING ME?? Look. I was attached to Demon: Recollect. I loved it. And then I played the Forsaken WIP and now I can't get over my absolutely BOMB character design for my player persona. Also it's kind of fun being considered a jerk in the game, because it opens up a lot of different options that I usually feel bad about taking)

Shadow Society - @carawenfiction (the concept is so interesting,, I dream of more. Also Quaiel...baby...)

The Soul Stone War - @intimidatingpuffinstudios (also whew!! I really enjoyed it and the characters all picture themselves really vividly in my mind for some reason.)

Greenwarden (WIP) - @fiddles-ifs (reading this is like thick fog.. but in a good way? I don't know how to describe it without pictures but this IF smells like fog over wet grass)

Divine Intervention (WIP) - @divineinterventiongame (the concept?? UGH SO GOOD. For some reason it's always the first game I click to check for updates)

Golden (WIP) - @milaswriting (😈😈😈😈)

Blood/line (WIP) - @bloodlineoffical (simply put,,, LARRY)

Supernatural in New York ; The Bastard of Camelot (both WIPs) - @llamagirl28 (UGH Both of these are so good in their own ways but equally as exciting to see updates for. I haven't consolidated my feelings much further than "my MC for SiNY is so cute" and "Mordred is a child" but they're all generally positive.)

Ace of Spades (WIP) - @steph-writing (I keep thinking about,,, con........)

Nevermoore (WIP) - @asteristories (AHHHHH.... let me say it again for those in the back: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH)

Son of Satan: The Mortal Coil (WIP) - @sosthemortalcoil (YES.)

Shepherds of Haven (WIP) - @shepherds-of-haven (yes. I just have to sigh because it's very good and I like saying those funny little words of power. But also outside of the game I can only picture this game as a great, grey border collie)

Attollo (WIP) - @attollo (Also a very interesting concept, whoo... I almost forgot how immersive it was untill I played the demo again and was reminded of how 'into it' I was straight off the bat. Also the seperate, short little piece on the blog with Sysba was also really good and I had a dream about it the other day)

Into the Shadows (WIP) - @wynnakang (whooo.... I'm sighing again, but louder. I press restart and play the demo again)

A Comedy of Manors (WIP) - @sviyaginthegreat (I kept replaying options that I hadn't chosen before because I wanted there to be more lmao)

Fallen Hero: Rebirth - @fallen-hero (I think there's a sequel coming up? I haven't stopped thinking about this storyline since I finished it omg... the.. the details are really good and I've become ridiculously attached to my tragic villain? Character... she IS the standard for my reusable IF persona, or at least one of my most prominent ones ;-D )

Samurai of Hyuga (WIP series) - (I'm pretty sure multiplechoicestudios.com is the development blog for this game, or at least what I've been checking for updates..... this is a series with four book currently out.... and I've been playing through book 4 at slower than a snail's pace in a desperate attempt to prolong my experience. I really didn't think I was going to like it as much as I did but I got a little too into it and now I'm horribly attached to all the characters)

The Porthecrawl Witness(WIP) - @porthecrawl-witness (I'm pretty sure this is a WIP?? But ugh. SCREEEEEE- it's so good. It's SO GOOD. I really want to punch Talbot in the face. And Asher, if for a different reason. And sort of Staci just to try. Quinn is just a cutie I could never hurt him like that. Ugh but they're all so good and I forgot that I was reading a WIP untill it suddenly was over..... I'mfeeling really aggressive rn as I'm writing this, so please just note that the punch comment is meant as a statement on how interesting the concept and immersiveness of the characters and story is)

Forgotten Names (WIP) - by Alexandra_Zorila on the CoG Forum (turn the volume up. AHHHHHHHHHH!!! Look, look. It's..... delicious. It's SO interesting and I obsessively have a tab open on my computer to check for updates)

OFNA: Birds of a Feather (WIP) - @ofna (the vibes are so grey and smoky but the fog is definitely from a party smoke machine and the room is only dark because the walls are taped with those huge sheets of black construction paper that teachers use to cover their bulletin boards with... the game definitely falls in the 'dark and mysterious' genre but something just strikes me as really funny when I play it. Anyway it's good and it's in a lot if recommended lists for a reason. Also I'm very attached to my American Goldfinch)

More Things in Heaven and Earth (WIP) - @morethingsgame (in the same way that it's fun to play Guenevere in the Guenevere game or Mordred in The Bastard of Camelot, playing Ophelia in the sort-of Hamlet story is really fun. If anyone has read the Missing collection- which I absolutely love- by Margaret Peterson Haddix, this gives me similar vibes for some reason. Anyway, I really want to give Hamlet a hug and make him a flower crown or something)

A Tale of Crowns (WIP) - @ataleofcrowns (It's kind of not even funny how much I love this game... It's hard to even describe why I like it, just that it's so well rounded in terms of the story, characters, dialogue, and relationships. It's such an interesting plotline and it's pretty immersive. Also the first time I read the demo, there was an update as I was reading and the high that sent me on has very rarely been matched. Also Dara running to save my Crown in the tunnel?? 🤚😩🤭💓 ugh. UGH!! That's good food for my fool heart)

Scout: An Apocalypse Story (WIP)- @anya-dev (I'm usually not that into apocalypse themes/plots but I really enjoyed this game, and the plot was very good and intruiging... it really pulled me in and I like my character in the story a lot. I don't know why but it tastes like chikuwa, atsuage, and this specific type of carmelized onions that my mom makes sometimes)

Nothing left to burn (WIP)- @clowdee-works (......ouch. I *knew* what was going to happen and I STILL became attached to Drew)

Smoke and Velvet - @roast-ifs (It's good. And I am VEDY much into my character design. Also the story is really interesting, and I enjoy the setting a lot somehow)

Speaker (WIP)- @speakergame (very fun to play, and each update gets me more interested in the aspects of the plot. I also really like the little descriptions of what the characters think of the player)

The Nameless (WIP)- @parkerlyn (interesting plot, I like the characters a lot, and The aesthetics of this world are so interesting. Definitely had a good time visualizing what everything looked like)

Fields of Asphodel (WIP) - @asphodelgame (I think it's really cute so far!!! I like mythology in general, and the persephone/hades dynamic is *mwah!*... I like the way the story progresses in the beginning, and I think it works well in drawing the reader into the world. I also very much enjoy petting large dogs.)

...there are so much more.. and I have followed so many blogs.........

I'm not sure why I can't find it rn but there's this one WIP game that I really like where the MC buys a manor for like dollar and moves to go live there with her best friend and shenanigans ensue as they try to settle in and fix up the estate

Harbringer (WIP) - @harbringercog (....are you KIDDING me?? I was fully planning on just enjoying the demo and keeping a mental note to update the list sometime later,,, but this game... THIS GAME really made me fold. It's very immersive and regardless of how nervous the author claims to be after releasing the demo, it's of my humble opinion that those nerves can be calmed. It's very good. I was planning on procrastinating and reading a little bit and then going back to this essay I need to write, but somehow I got pulled in and ended up reading through the whole demo and it's apparent that I honestly had no chance of getting through this without becoming invested in the plot.... just... so good.. I'm very excited to see how this will progress)

Visual Novels:

Andromeda 6 (WIP) - @andromeda-six (I repeat: Obsessed, I come back every few months to see an update and I fall deeper into the hole every time...)

To the Edge of the Sky (WIP,, probably) - by Ajané (??) on Steam (I think, it’s been a while)

Next on my list to check out: Perfumare by pdrrook

Does.... does The Arcana game by Nix Hydra count as VN?? If so, then yes.

Similarly, the FictIF games are all entertaining, although Last Legacy and Heir to Love and Lies are my favorites rn (and.....unfinished....)

I also don't know if this counts, because I kind of consider Otome games to be their own genre, but on the Love 365: find your story by Voltage Inc. There are a bunch of fun stories, my favorite of which are: the Shinichi Kagari route on After School Affairs and the Saejima and Keiichiro routes on Bad Boys do it Better

..To be continued...

#IF_VN #fis fic recs #interactive fiction #visual novels #game #recommendations

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shirophantomvox · 4 years ago

Text

Analyzing Killua Zoldyck's Character

Illumi Analysis| Hisoka Analysis| Chrollo Anaysis|

What’s up y’all?! I’ve had at least 2 cups of coffee this morning and I am ready to write my butt off! This post will be about Killua Zoldyck, my second favorite character and you will know why by the end. If you’d like me to write about your favorite character, Be sure to send me a message and I will get on it ASAP.

Here we go!

I saw Killua for the first time on Tumblr. Someone created various icons for several anime characters and edited them. They were all aesthetically pleasing but for some reason, his picture stood out. Now that I look harder, it is because he was holding a Pepsi can instead of the off-brand one they drew for him in the cartoon. I noticed everyone on TikTok and Twitter had the very same icon as their profile picture (usually those that like to troll and say racist things to others). Once I started watching Hunter x Hunter, I realized the character immediately. Thank you for your edits!

Killua Zoldyck is the youngest child in the family and is the only child that developed a mind for his own.

Instead of taking the pleasure of killing, he runs/avoids and achieves this by becoming friends with Gon. It’s interesting to think that no one in the Zoldyck family wants to kill for fun except for Illumi.

I remember Zeno telling Chrollo: “Do you think I enjoy killing?”.

This makes me think that the family’s job is to destroy enemies that are a threat to society. Are the Zoldyck’s taking on the role of cops or an extension of such? If that statement is true why does Illumi take pleasure in abusing his power when his own grandfather only does it when criminals are involved? Granted, Silva and Zeno’s reasoning for brutally fighting criminals isn’t legal, and (to me) are considered to be vigilantes, at least they don’t go around doing the horrible things like how Illumi and Hisoka do.

This very reason why Killua ran away from home. He decided to rebel against his mother and implied: “Fuck you. I’m going to do what I want.” Killua and his siblings are victims of child abuse and show that they deal with that abuse in different ways. Killua masks his abilities in public and tries to keep them under control, Kalluto seems to be very quiet and obedient, Milluki is just as abusive as Illumi, and we already know about Illumi. Milluki is physically abusive; this can be seen when he is whipping Killua for running away and threatens to destroy Gon, Kurapika, and Leorio while Illumi plays mind games on Killua and uses his Nen to do the trick.

Killua’s character is very special and in a way takes the lead as the main character instead of Gon. I don’t know if that was intentional or not. Killua is a 12-year-old boy who leaves home to escape his abusive home and see the world for his own. During phase 1 of Hunter’s Exam, he instantly clicks with Gon; probably because he’s the only 12-year-old there. They constantly challenge each other to see who will win and who will buy dinner or some other reward. Because of his abusive home, Killua often masks his feelings. This is noticeable every time Gon talks about him being his best friend and he always reacts as if he’s embarrassed by it.

Gon is his shield from going bat-shit crazy like his family. They both have faced opponents (like Hisoka and others) where Killua could have unleashed his assassin abilities but didn’t. Yes, some of the opponents are stronger than him, but it wouldn’t hurt to try.

Killua is the best friend Gon could ever have. Since he knows about aura and any supernatural abilities, this is why he stops Gon and even insults him for pushing himself too far. Killua stopped Gon from using too much aura in the past especially once Kite’s arm was cut off by Pitou. Because Killua wasn’t there to stop him when fighting Pitou, this resulted in Gon’s downfall. Did Killua believe it was his fault that Gon almost died? He isn’t responsible for Gon’s actions but he focused so much on running away from his “demons” and masking his temper by maintaining his friendship that he wasn’t paying attention to Gon’s noticeable and developing temper.

Killua Zoldyck is a child that suffered from abuse and to escape that reality, he runs away, takes Hunter’s Exam only to match with his brother, chooses defeat, and then kills an opponent, not of his own free will.

But wait, there’s more.

After being rescued from his prison of a home, he goes to Heaven’s Arena, met Zushi and his teacher, develop Nen, follows the Phantom Troupe around and somehow managed to survive that, meet Bisky, join a game to get closer to Ging, witnesses Gon disappearing, trying to form a relationship with Alluka, and then tries to heal Gon with a quickness.

Whew, chile!

At the beginning of the show, it appeared as if Killua was taking on too much and only did so to keep his mind off what he escaped from.

One thing to point out is Killua’s motivation to heal Gon no matter what. It is implied that he doesn’t care what will happen to him or anyone else as long as Gon can live again.

Wait.

Isn’t that along the lines of what Gon said about getting revenge for Kite? He didn’t care about what happened to him? Hmmmm. I guess they’re very similar after all!

Killua and Gon are BFFs and will do anything for each other. Friendships in real life should be this way; let’s follow his fictional example.

Face

Killua’s face is the typical shape for someone his age. His eyes are wide, as blue as the morning sky, and honestly, I wish he’d smile more. Even though he is 12 years old, he still has a babyface.

Hair

Killua’s hair color is very similar to Princess Allura’s and Lotor’s. According to verywellmind.com, the color white represents innocence and purity. Ironically, Lotor and Killua are the opposite of that while Allura has maintained her innocence. Killua’s unique hair color and hairstyle are amazing! I love how it stays in shape while he is fighting or running.

Clothes

Regarding clothes, he is JUST like his brother. Again, Illumi irks me, but they both have a great taste in fashion. Through the show, Killua changes his clothes more than Gon, which is funny. I guess if Gon changed his clothes too much it would take away from his character. Killua’s default style contains a sleeveless white shirt with a purple one underneath, basketball shorts, and gym shoes. Just look at these outfit changes! This is why Killua is my 2nd favorite character in this show.

Behavior

As stated before, Killua cares more about others. This is ironic because the Zoldyck family only cares about themselves or their family while Killua feels the complete opposite. It’s almost as if he trusts strangers more than his own family. A common phrase: “She/He turned to the streets” that I’ve heard in my hometown can be applied here. Killua probably hates his family and turned to strangers to find love and comfort since they neglected that. He is also the only one that tries to develop a relationship with Alluka. At first, I thought “Wow he’s only developing a relationship with her to heal Gon” but then I realized it was bigger than that. Alluka has been separated from her family because of her dangerous abilities. She will demand something and if that person doesn’t fulfill her demands, they will suffer horribly. Killua learns that Alluka has a healing ability and while Illumi complains that Killua was hiding rules from him, he never took the chance to talk to him about it and continued to threaten Alluka. The family “banished” her to a confined room for who knows how long because, apparently, she had been possessed by a demon from the Dark Continent and they do not know when it happened. Despite knowing that Killua could parish with the rest, he still develops a relationship with her. He is the true example of excepting someone for who they are. As far as I’m concerned, running away was the best decision he made. It saved his life and in return, he’s going to save another. I do find it ironic that something considered to be so dark has the power to bring something back to life when usually it’s something bright like a light...interesting. You all know what I’m saying. Most television shows only portray angles to heal others while demons only seek to destroy. The Zoldyck family is wrong for pushing Alluka away. How could you do that to your own kid? Shit, you should be blaming yourself for not watching her and allowing the demon to posses her.

In conclusion, Killua is my second favorite character. He is bold, loves his friends, and isn’t afraid (anymore) to step up to people he may not win against. His character has blossomed from a young boy afraid to step up to his brother to a boy who isn’t afraid to do so. He has learned about Nen and has gone through many trials and tribulations just to say he is much stronger than before. What characters would you like to hear about next? Send me a DM!

Fin.

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traincat · 3 years ago

Note

I’ve been trying to piece together a few things from your Twitter and Tumblr posts alike and still can’t make heads or tales of things, so would you mind helping out a FF & spideytorch noob? 1) what is currently happening with Johnny in the comics? (I’ve fallen head over heels for this guy, largely all your doing) 2) when’s the last time he and Peter have interacted, canon wise? (And do you think upcoming interactions are likely?) 3) your thoughts on if they’ll have him come out in the near future? (has that ‘biggest change to the fantastic four’ teaser come to pass yet?) Love all your content, thank you!

I'd say no problem but then I started thinking about this current run again and got a headache. But yes, I can do that to save you from reading it, because it is very largely not good.

So I don't think it's unfair to just flat out say the current Fantastic Four run is not very good, largely due to writer Dan Slott's efforts. Slott was previously on Amazing Spider-Man for 10 years, to mixed opinions, but a large portion of Spider-Man fandom, myself included, blames him near singlehandedly for the decline in quality of Spider-Man books over those ten years. I will say, in the interest of fairness, that Slott as a writer has an incredible fondness for the Spider-Man/Human Torch relationship, and that a lot of the recent teamups and interactions between them have been written or co-written by him. So it's all not all negative here. But in general, I personally find Slott's more recent comics (the last seven-ish years especially) to be badly plotted out, messily characterized disasters that feature characters written with all the emotion of a cardboard cutout. That's me putting it nicely.

To explain this fully, you have to understand the position Fantastic Four comics were in from the years 2015 through 2018, both in the fictional 616 universe and in the real publishing world. Following the 2015 Secret Wars event (great if you want some Johnny angst in the background of your plot), the Fantastic Four were disbanded -- Reed, Sue, and their many biological and found family children were presumed dead but in reality were remaking the multiverse, unable, for a reason that was never clearly defined, to reach home. Ben and Johnny were left on Earth. They had an unspecified falling out, likely due to Reed and Sue's absence, and went their separate ways -- Ben joined the Guardians of the Galaxy and went to space. Johnny was featured on both Inhumans and Avengers books. What's notable about this period is that it's the first time since 1961 that there was no Fantastic Four book being published by Marvel. Now the real world reason behind this is both complicated and extremely petty: Marvel really wanted the Fantastic Four film rights. Marvel denied this explanation at the time, stating that the reason was sales motivated, but it was a thoroughly flimsy excuse and Jonathan Hickman, writer of 2015's Secret Wars and overseer of the current X-Men plot, gave an interview saying the decision was film rights motivated. This decision kept the Fantastic Four books off the shelves for three years, up until the Disney-Fox merger, which secured the X-Men and Fantastic Four rights for Disney's Marvel Studios. Marvel then announced that the Fantastic Four book would be returning. So that's a little bit of background as to the precarious place the Fantastic Four currently occupy in the Marvel universe -- it's worth noting that this year is their 60th anniversary, and Marvel has done very little for it. Compare this to the X-Men, whose film rights Marvel also obtained during the Disney-Fox merger, and whose books are currently dominating the publishing lineup. The Fantastic Four definitely occupy an unpopular position, one Marvel themselves is at least partially responsible for forcing them into.

But to move back into the actual content of the book -- the readjustment period Slott wrote reintroducing the Fantastic Four into the Marvel universe can be described as clumsy, at best. It's never fully explained why Reed, Sue, and the kids couldn't return to Earth, something that was explored in Chip Zdarsky's 2017 Marvel Two-in-One, which featured Ben, Johnny, and Doom on a multiversal roadtrip to try and find their family and which I on the whole recommend, despite it having an awkward ending due to being cut short by Slott's announced Fantastic Four main title.

(Marvel Two-in-One 2017 #4)

Instead, the Fantastic Four return to a Marvel universe a little different than how they left it, with the Baxter Building -- formerly the offices of Parker Industries, the company Doc Ock started in Peter's body during Superior Spider-Man that Peter inherited after his defeat and then lost spectacularly when he trashed his own company to fight nazis (good for him) -- occupied by a different fantastic foursome in a plot that goes nowhere and does nothing. This is somewhat emblematic of the early days of Slott's run -- he introduces ideas that fail to go anywhere, including Johnny's rekindled relationship with his other best friend and former college roommate, Wyatt Wingfoot, who he was seen being very cuddly with in the early issues.

(FF 2018 #1) A small group of Fantastic Four fans have argued for a while that if Marvel was to have Johnny come out, a relationship with Wyatt would feel very natural -- they're already close, with Wyatt being an important Fantastic Four supporting character since the '60s. I have some further analysis here on the conspiracy theory that Johnny and Wyatt were supposed to be in relationship at the beginning of this run but that that plot was, for whatever reason, nixed. I don't know that I entirely believe this theory, for the record -- but I do think the pieces line up remarkably well.

Anyway, that didn't/hasn't yet happened, obviously. Slott instead for the most part put Johnny on the back burner for the beginning of his run, up until the Spyre arc, which I have reason to believe is the main story he pitched that he credits with securing him the Fantastic Four title. The Spyre arc suggests that the Fantastic Four's failed space exploration during which they got their powers wasn't just to beat the commies to the moon, as Lee and Kirby envisioned (simpler days), but to reach a specific planet outside of our galaxy. When the team sets out to conquer this mission, they arrive at the planet, but are quickly captured. The planet, they find out, operates like a soulmate AU -- everyone has a fated person that they are matched to via a gold armband. Reed and Sue are soulmates (and Ben is confined to an underground subterranean with the other monsters, because this is a Fantastic Four comic) while it's discovered! Shocker! That Johnny is actually the soulmate of the one the planet's inhabitants, a winged woman named Sky, with the suggestion that this is both why Johnny's previous relationships have never worked and why he loves space exploration -- he was just trying to get to his Soulmate TM.

(FF 2018 #15) "What's going on here? Where are my clothes?" As you can see, this didn't start off super great, with Johnny being separated from his family, stripped naked, and put in Sky's bed with a soulmate armband slapped on him. Did I mention they're only removable if your soulmate takes it off for you? And that Sky has consistently refused despite Johnny asking her to? Yeah. It's bad. (I think it's important to note Johnny's long history as a victim of assault plays into this narrative, whether or not Slott is personally holding that in mind while writing, which I don't believe he is. cw in the linked post for discussions of sexual assault.) There's an additional issue here in that Slott has a history of problematic writing regarding women of color, featuring characters he's created to act as love interests being oversexualized, infantilized, villainized, or some mix of all three, with two examples of this phenomena being Cindy Moon and Lian Tang, both of whom he introduced in quick succession in Amazing Spider-Man. Slott certainly didn't have to write Sky as manipulative or controlling towards Johnny, but that's what he chose to do, and that factors into the bigger picture of unfortunate themes in his writing.

Sky returns to Earth with the Fantastic Four despite Johnny appearing unenthused about the idea and initially generally reluctant to interact with her. Apparently they went on a few dates after this and kind of made up. I don't know because I stopped reading for about ten issues in there but I feel confident I missed very little. It's hard to talk about the Sky plot without referencing Johnny's previous interactions with a character named Lyja, a Skrull whose relationship to Johnny I have a long breakdown of here. It's doubly hard, because Lyja actually showed back up in Fantastic Four during this plot. Lyja's modus operandi has remained consistent throughout almost all of her appearances, which I guess makes sense, because she literally has no storylines that do not involve her being obsessed with Johnny, and this recent story isn't any different: Lyja shows up, Lyja disguises herself as another woman in Johnny's life to get close to Johnny, Lyja gets caught and claims it was all fine because she did it for love. This time she disguised herself as Sky.

(FF 2018 #32) Not gonna lie, kind of proud of him for this one. That's one of my problems with Slott -- very occasionally, he busts out good moments, only to undermine them with the rest of his narrative.

In the same issue, Alicia Masters, the first woman Lyja impersonated in order to get close to Johnny, uses her supervillain stepfather's radioactive clay to control Lyja's mind and send her back to space, and I do think she utilized girl power when she did this. Johnny, left reeling after Lyja's latest attempts to trick him into a relationship, ends this issue by sleeping with Victorious, Dr. Doom's right hand woman.

I know she pegged him. I know it. This scene was a little controversial in Johnny fandom, because a lot of people viewed it as Johnny cheating on Sky and thought that that action was out of character for Johnny. I'm personally of a little different opinion, which is that regardless of whether or not you view Johnny and Sky in a committed enough relationship that Johnny's tryst would count as infidelity when all Johnny and Sky are bound by are magic plot soulmate bracelets, I think Lyja's involvement changes things significantly when it comes to Johnny's characterization. All of Johnny's "playboy" periods, if we can call them that, coincide directly with Lyja having been in and then left his life again, which I think makes a certain amount of sense -- it's Johnny trying to wrest control back after a situation where he had none. None of this is explicitly canon, I have to note, but sometimes in comics you have to do the work yourself. So I think this is a case of something being accidentally extremely in character that Slott accidentally stumbled into because he had these love triangles in mind, not because he put a lot of thought into it.

Speaking of love triangles! Johnny sleeping with Victorious gets more complicated when Dr. Doom announces his intent to marry Victorious -- not because he has any romantic interest in her (this engagement caused a lot of uproar in Fantastic Four because Victorious had been previously referred to as being like Doom's adopted daughter) but in order to install her as Latverian regent in his absence. I'm not going to lie, I love a political wedding. Victorious, for some reason, thinks Doom will be deeply upset that she slept with some closeted blond twink and the member of the Fantastic Four he views least as an enemy and more as an annoyance. Johnny, who Sky is currently not talking to because she "felt" him sleeping with Victorious through their magic plot soulmate bracelets, also feels nervous about Doom finding out about this, which I guess is slightly more valid. Anyway, for some completely ridiculous reason, Victorious decides the best time to tell Doom about this little indiscretion is when they're standing at the altar, which coincidentally the Fantastic Four are also standing at, because Doom asked Reed to be his best man in a not at all homoerotic little setup involving midnight swordfighting and Reed slipping Doom's emerald ring onto his own finger. Sorry to sidetrack into DoomReed territory here but it's just like. It's just a lot.

(FF 2018 #33) Also, Ben walked the bride down the aisle. :,) Look at his gigantic hand.

Anyway then Doom decides he's going to kill everyone in a completely reasonable and not at all overblown reaction to Johnny and Zora having what was most likely both disappointing for Zora and weepy for Johnny sex. And that brings us up to where Fantastic Four comics left us yesterday -- in answer to your "big change" question, that's most likely coming up in the next issue, so it hasn't come to pass yet.

Having gotten all that out of the way -- the last time Johnny and Peter interacted canon-wise was in the recent Empyre Fallout Fantastic Four, at the end of the Empyre event:

It was cute! Slott does right good interactions between them. This is possibly the Stockholm Syndrome talking. I don't know if more interactions are likely imminent -- the Empyre event was fairly recent. On the other hand, Slott does like writing interactions between them. So I'd give it about a 50/50 shot. I was skimming the letter page in the latest issue and someone wrote in asking if Peter was likely to appear in the pages of Fantastic Four again any time soon, so there is definitely a demand.

As for Johnny coming out -- I don't know. It's not a call I feel comfortable making at this moment, which I guess means I wouldn't bet money on it. I'd like to say yes, especially because I think Slott set up, whether that was his intention or more likely not, several good places in his run where Johnny could have come out. The beginning, when he's implied to be living with Wyatt again and where he and Wyatt are paralleled against Ben and Alicia. Ben's bachelor party, where Johnny laments not finding the right person -- specifically person and not woman -- and where Ben tells him to "be brave, Johnny Storm." And the soulmate planet plot, where I think could have had a very different and much better ending if Johnny had told Sky that she couldn't be his romantic soulmate, because he knows he wants to be with a man. But those are just places that I think would have made good opportunities for a coming out story. Instead, Johnny's been involved (dubiously) with three different women over the space of the last 10 issues, which is more heterosexuality at one time than he's been confronted with in the last 60 years. So my thoughts are still that it's going to happen eventually, but quite possibly not anytime soon.

Hope that helps! And that my incredibly long answer about what's currently going on with Johnny in comics sheds some light on things!

#johnny storm #traincat talks comics #*replies #long post/#wednesday spoilers

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