#do u know how hard it is to pull the trigger (he does). dear fucking godddddd i hate it

[tankgotstuckinthecircusgate]

anna's character is my biggest tragedy bc there's no place for her in this story and it breaks my heart into million trillion billion pieses

[dinlukesupremacy]

have i told you of this?

chapter one

descriptions of violence, teen & up: 1.6k words.

additional tags: din has a thing for competency, bamf Luke, u know the deal

read on ao3 - (chapter 2 is explicit, 18+ only)

‘What in the stars does he think he’s doing?’

The words cut out, low and sharp, through the voice modulator. Din had ducked behind a column as blaster fire scorches the air above his head and he desperately tries to count how many more imps there were. Their plan had gone to shit, forcing them apart just after they scoped out the secret ex-imperial facility. Only now had Din caught a glimpse of Luke, lightsaber blazing to his side as he stalks ahead.

Listen, Din knew in his head that Luke was incredibly powerful. Probably the best fighter in the galaxy, if he was being honest, and that was ignoring his Force abilities. Yet some part of Din still felt fucking terrified whenever Luke just walks out in front of a row of heavy blasters like they were nothing. Especially since this place has more than just your standard-issue weaponry, Din could still feel the burn of a hit from the repeat canon that barely missed him. He feels his heart is so high in his throat he could choke on it when he sees Luke fight.

Din risks a glance around his cover. Immediately, he tracks the green haze from Luke’s saber through the churned-up dust and smoke. The room is cramped and dark, their plan to cut out the power supply first having worked flawlessly. Din flicks on the heat sensor in his helmet and has to squint against the burning white of Luke’s weapon. He turns his attention to the back of the room where he sees the forms of a dozen or so stormtroopers settle behind cover. Facing them, Luke stops. His hood is still down over his eyes and, while Din can’t see the look on his face from this angle, the assured power simmering throughout Luke’s form is clear. Din would worship him if he got the chance.

Din breathes in.

The troopers have stilled, unsure, each with their blasters propped up on the barrier. Fingers light over the trigger.

The only sound Din can hear is the fierce energy of Luke’s saber and his own hurried heartbeat.

Din breathes out.

Luke stretches out a hand and bends the world around him. A trooper is lifted into the air and slammed into the back of the room. Before he even hits the ground, every blaster is firing. It’s beautiful, Din thinks, the way Luke cuts through the smoke with his lightsaber to deflect every shot. The movement blurred by his speed, framing the edges of his silhouette with every pass.

Din’s attention is caught by movement at the edge of the room. More troopers, heavier guns.

Stepping out from his defence, Din cuts forward using the dark haze as cover until he is in range of the new reinforcements. Bracing his stance, he raises his arm and ignites the flamethrower. He catches them by surprise. Din doesn’t look away as the fire catches trooper after trooper, sending the rest scattering backward. Abstractions of orange light flit across the walls as he keeps it burning for just a few seconds longer. He feels Luke move closer to him as he takes advantage of the brief reprieve from blaster fire.

‘Thought I saw you back there.’ Luke’s voice is slightly raspy from the smoke but Din still hears him.

‘Couldn’t leave you to take all the credit.’ Din shifts his stance to start firing before the troopers get a chance to resettle.

Din hears a huff of Luke’s laughter as the Jedi pushes forward past him. Din immediately falls to the side to give him covering fire. He glances between Luke and the not insignificant number of troopers left and curses.

The sound is lost under a piercing metallic screech that feels like it cuts through Din’s chest. Blaster raised, he whips around his cover to see the repeat canon fold in on itself. The black metal cuts out at sharp angles and the shooting sparks ignite the ammo stacked next to it, taking out another few troopers in the explosion. Din can barely make out the black fist of Luke’s gloved hand that points towards it. Din’s fingers twitch against his blaster.

He pushes forward again, fast. This time bounding over the troopers’ cover and landing among them. He takes advantage of their disorientation and swings his left forearm against the nearest helmet before landing an uppercut with his right fist. He settles his stance and moves to tackle the next trooper. Din breathes hard as he methodically takes down one after the other. As the numbers dwindle, he reaches for this staff and chokes out the last trooper he can see. His beskar burns around him with all the blaster fire he has taken.

Behind him, Luke extinguishes his lightsaber. Din turns at the sound to see the Jedi standing calmly in the middle of his own battlefield. The room is quiet once more and Din is all too aware of the sound of his own breath. He stares as Luke pulls back his hood. It seems as if Luke is about to speak but whatever it was is cut off when Din surges towards him and keeps moving until Luke is pressed against the wall.

‘Luke.’

‘Yes, dear?’ Luke raises an eyebrow as he looks up at Din, voice slightly breathless.

Din’s chest is still heaving as he crowds Luke further against the wall. His gloves are fisted tightly into Luke’s robe and he can feel his knuckles start to ache with it. He grips harder.

‘You’re incredible. Gods , you’re incredible but -’ Luke only blinks up at him, questioning. Din notices how his pupils expand. ‘But, you scare me. When you do that.’ He flicks his head back, gesturing to where Luke had stood his ground against the lines of troopers.

He watches as Luke’s gaze softens and his shoulders relax slightly. The teasing glint in his eye shifting into something else.

‘Din, you know I can-’

‘Yes, I do. I do .’ Din’s visor tilts upwards for a moment. His voice is urgent and he doesn’t let Luke move an inch away from him. ‘But doesn’t mean I like to see you standing with every blaster in the room aimed at you.’

‘Yet you told me just the other day how much you, uh, enjoyed seeing me in battle.’ The glint in Luke’s eyes back now as he pushes his chin up slightly. Din sees the edges of his mouth curve into a smirk.

Din leans forward to press his helmet into Luke’s shoulder with a frustrated groan. Their bodies flush against each other now. Luke shifts himself to give Din more space and smiles up to the ceiling. He quickly reaches out with the Force to scan for any remaining troopers and decides that maybe they can indulge themselves for a moment. Or two, he thinks as Din’s hand slides up to rest firmly against his neck.

‘Just-’ Din exhales, ‘give me a warning next time?’

Luke watches as Din pulls back and his other hand frees its grip to flit across his robes, glancing across his chest and arms, anything Din can reach seemingly to check for any injuries. Luke’s breath hitches despite the practicality of the touch.

‘Y-yes. We will think of a better way to communicate.’ Luke can feel his face heat as Din presses against him again. The composure that carried him in battle fading quickly now. He can’t look away from the fierce lines of Din’s visor. The heavy smoke settles closely around them both, dulling any shine of Din’s armour and almost obscuring them to the rest of the world.

‘Close your eyes.’ The helmet’s filter does nothing to dampen the desperation in Din’s voice. Din needs to touch him, needs to feel him any way he can.

Luke immediately does so, settling his restless hands against Din’s armour. He feels Din move to pull back the helmet. Leather brushes against his jaw softly for a second before it lands as a firm grip on his hair.

The press of Din’s mouth against his is harsh and perfect. Luke breathes in quickly through his nose and scrambles to pull Din even closer, ignoring the sharp sting of burnt armour at the back of his throat. He finally settles with one hand in Din’s hair and the other tight on his waist, fingers curling against blaster warm metal.

They both get lost in each other. Din can taste traces of smoke on Luke’s lips and he wants to kiss it away. Cleanse Luke of any singe of battle with his touch. Din runs his tongue against Luke’s bottom lip and revels in the soft sound of Luke’s response. All Din can think about is the burn of Luke’s mouth against his and he can’t get close enough. He reaches down and pulls Luke’s thigh up to rest against his hip and Din swears he could get drunk off the noise that pulls out of his Jedi. He kisses him deeper, wanting to sink completely into Luke’s body.

Far too soon, Luke is pulling away. His eyes still closed but he can feel the way Din chases his mouth. He allows one more kiss before nodding. ‘We should keep moving. Can, gods -’ He stutters as Din moves to kiss against his pulse point. ‘Can revisit this discussion later.’

Din lingers for a moment, eyes closed and feeling his heart settle at the feeling of the steady thump of Luke’s own. He lets his lips brush over that spot for a moment. The tension under his skin finally begins to fizzle out.

Din nods with a deep sigh. He leans back to look at the man before him. Luke’s cheeks are flushed and blond hair is mussed up in all directions. That smile still lingers on his lips beautifully. Din kisses him once more, quickly, before placing his helmet back on.

‘Later.’

[teeztheflag]

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Wolf!Ateez continuation to another member hunting down their mate

trigger warning! ⚠️ strong language, suggestive, non con marking, kidnapping, angst, sexual harassment, angst, no happy ending, height insert, (reader is taller than Jong Ho by a few centimeters), mobbing (don’t read if you’re uncomfortable with those topics)

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k i m h o n g j o o n g

„You know he’s coming to get me! He will kill you!“

Jong Ho smiled at your cute attempt to scare him while he watched the night out of the window. His heart bumped at the thought of you lying in his bed. He turned around and neared your form.

„Of course he’s coming... but you got one thing wrong there my dear. It’s me who’s going to kill him!“

You shuddered at this dumbass talking about hurting your mate. A slight whine escaped your wolf and Jong Ho raised one of his eyebrows at that.

„Don’t be sad. Soon we’re going to mate and then you will forget about Kim Hong Joong.“

„No!“ You gritted your teeth at him and the rebel wolf laughed at you mockingly. You were just too cute to think you could hurt him in any way.

„Then I will just try to kill you myself!“ You started to lunge at the much stronger wolf and he tackled you with ease back onto his bed and hovers above you.

Jong Ho secures your arms above you and finds your gaze to capture you in. „Stop this nonsense. If you don’t behave I will mark you right here and now.“

A tear rolls down your cheek after several tries to escape his strong grip.

„Why are you hating him so much?“

He frowns at you and sits up so you’re face to his back.

„You don’t know anything about the rebels, right? What little lies did Hong Joong tell you about us? Huh, nevermind.“ He stands up and leaves you alone in the room after he locks the door.

You groan out. „What does he mean with this?“

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p a r k s e o n g h w a

You stood in front of the mirror to examine the dirty mark over your neck. It looked like the two marks emerged into one and you shuddered at the thought of Woo Young being your mate now.

„Someone’s here to see you.“ You quickly hid your neck and turned around to glare at the boy.

„Fuck yourself.“

„I would rather do that to you.“ Your lower region clenched at his words and your tried to hide the blush. Since Woo Young marked you things were very odd.

You thought it would take a long time for your wolf to catch feelings for the mate and you also heard that it only developed this quick if your older mate was dead.

But Seong Hwa was alive, right?

Woo Young couldn’t stand to see your hurt expression anymore so he walked up to you and caught your hand with his one.

The part he touched seemed to burn pleasantly and the two of you felt it.

„Come.“

„(y/n)?...“

You looked up and couldn’t believe what you saw. Seong Hwa! He came to get you! You ran up to him and he caught you in his arms and twirled you around. He buried his nose deep in the crook of your neck and instantly his smile vanished.

„You bastard! You aren’t allowed to do that!“

„Well, I am. And you know that, too.“

„What does he mean, Hwa...?“

„I would’ve never thought you had the guts for that.“

„Maybe I just followed my desire?“ He smirked at Seong Hwa and the older boy‘s eyes turned into a dangerous yellow color.

„Watch your words.“ He spit out thought gritted teeth and you were totally lost at what was going on.

„Stop! I want to know what the hell is going on here!“

„(y/n), you’re my mate. There‘s nothing going on here.“

„There‘s one little detail you’re missing - she’s my mate, too.“ You suddenly felt really dizzy and the last thing you see before you black out is Woo Young winking at you.

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j e o n g y u n h o

Yeo Sang was shattered. He felt so dumb to try something like this with you. He decided to get out of the town for a while to clear his mind.

Meanwhile you were just as disappointed with Yeo Sang as the young wolf himself with him.

Yun Ho on the other hand was totally confused why the boy would try to get to you in the first place...

Two months went by when you heard of Yeo Sang‘s come back. Yun Ho and you decided it would be the best to not tell anyone of the incident so many people were happy that the young boy was back.

You guessed that he would want to talk to you but you nearly collapsed when you saw him hand in hand with another girl passing over the market place.

„Yun Ho... do you see that, too?“

„Mh, what? Oh, what the...“

Later that day someone rang the bell to your house and your sister was so loud you could only guess who it was.

„(y/n), can we talk?“ You nodded at him with a unsure gaze to your sister but followed him anyway.

„I am sorry.“

„You should be.“

„It will never happen again.“

„Sure.“

„I found my mate.“

„That’s great...“

„I know I can never make up what I did to you and I don’t want to pretend it was only my wolf that pushed me to do it. I just lost control and I feel so bad for hurting you like this.“

„I understand. Our wolves sometimes can get out of control I know that. Just promise you won’t ever do that ever again and not to anyone else, too.“

„Of course! I will train my wolf and myself in self-control I already signed in for a course in another city where they help wolves like... me.“

You smiled at that. You still hated him in some way but your were glad he was sorry and tried to help himself.

„I wish you good look.“

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k a n g y e o s a n g

„What’s up sweetheart?“ Yeo Sang emerges your form on the couch and kisses your temple to which you giggle.

„You scrolling through social media.“

„Mh...“ He tangled himself with you on the furniture and watches how you swipe away quickly some pics of other boys on your instagram.

„Wait a second!“ He takes your phone and you slightly panick when he gets back to the boy that posted a pic of him with his six pack and your mate frowns.

„You like that?“

„Me? What? No!“

„Then why’re you following him?“ Suddenly a text message pops up and you gulp when you see it is from Yun Ho. What did that dick want?!

youknowthehoeyunho: still sticking with that stick? if you’re down for a real man come to my place tonight ;) party xx

„The fuck?! Baby, do you think I am not manly enough?“

„No! I don’t know why he writes me shit like that! I swear I don’t have a clue! And you know that I love you!“

You grabbed the phone back from him and deleted the message and put it away.

You tried to cuddle into Yeo Sang‘s chest but the boy was in deep thoughtful and suddenly stood up to grab his car keys.

„Where are you going?“

„Training with San and Min Gi.“

You facepalmed and tried to reach out for him but he was too fast and out of the door before you could stop him.

Stupid instagram...

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c h o i s a n

Of course San started his journey to get a potion that would heal you. It was a hard way but he was lucky that he found a witch that took quite the... liking in him.

„You should be fast if you want to heal her. Although this can destroy the spell your species tends to be blended quite easily...“ She laughed at him and San‘s knuckles turned white.

„I will safe her.“

Back to the house he frantically searched for you but he was stopped when he heard a groan from upstairs.

„Seong Hwa?! Shit, what happened? Where’s she?!“

„I am s-sorry, San. He - he got her.“

Finally she was back in his arms. The beauty herself (y/n) was kissing Hong Joong ravishly and he could swear his heart stopped a beat at the feeling.

„Tonight I will take what’s mine.“ His orbs turned into a golden color while he analyzed your faze. His fingers carefully touched your swollen lips from the kiss and he smirked.

„I am already yours.“

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s o n g m i n g i

The doctors were visiting you everyday but you were very weak after the attack of Seong Hwa. The wolf inside of you tried to heal you but it took a long time.

Min Gi visited you as often as possible and he decided to speak to his alpha about the incident.

„I know Min Gi but we cannot declare a war because of one thing.“

„One thing?! He wanted to kill my mate!“

„I know! It’s not that I don’t think Park Seong Hwa should meet consequences for his actions. You know about our problems with the other pack. We have to be careful also for our brothers and sisters!“

„You’re right, alpha.“

„I think we should - ��� A call stopped the alpha to talk further and Min Gi didn’t stop pacing around the office.

„Oh, okay. That’s very good to hear. I - I know we have problems but thank you.“

„Who was it?“

„It was the alpha of the shadow pack. He said that they kicked Seong Hwa out so now he’s a rogue...“

„They really did? Gosh, I would’ve never guessed they would do that.“

„Yeah, me neither... but I think he knows the risk they would’ve been under in a war. Many other packs would’ve helped us because of our reason.“

„I am glad...“

„Yes, but... Min Gi. Park Seong Hwa is now a rogue. He doesn’t follow the law anymore and he’s got nothing to lose. We need to protect our borders in case he’s coming back.“

And he would come back.

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j u n g w o o y o u n g

„That fucking asshole! If he just came a little bit later I would’ve been able to - “

Hong Joong smirks at his friend.

„Been able to what?“

„To do everything that little bitch could only dream of...“

„I thought you weren’t interested in her?“

„Nah, but I know it would drive Woo Young insane.“

„Then we get them and let him watch?“

„How would that even be possible?“

„I know someone who might help us.“ Hong Joong smiles mischievously at his friend. He didn’t care about Woo Young and that mate of his but if it got them the final push to start a war it was worth it.

„Okay!“

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c h o i j o n g h o

„Yah! Wouldn’t thought you would pull so at this years competition!“

„For gods sake fuck off Min Gi.“

Min Gi‘s friends joined the little disput and soon other competitors came to watch.

„I really have a question, Jong Ho. Your mate is taller than you, right? Does she help you at shopping to reach the higher shelves?“ Many wolves laughed at that and Jong Ho‘s head started to become really red.

„Just by a few centimeters!“

„Hahaha! So it’s true! Well, no wonder she’s been hanging out with other boys...“

„She didn’t!“

„Well, how about another bet? If you win I will leave you and your model girl alone.“

„And if you win?“

„One night with her so she’s able to hug someone without bending down for once.“

Fucker.

„Alright.“ If looks could kill Min Gi sure would be dead by now. Jong Ho wouldn’t loose this competition.

„Oh my god! Did your hear already? Song Min Gi and Choi Jong Ho have a bet again!“

You had to spit the water out you were just about to swallow.

„Choi Jong Ho!“

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↺ back to navi

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pictures from twitter ateez official

[strayneoculturekids]

SKZ Reacting to you Getting an Anxiety Attack

Warnings: This was a request, don’t get mad at me for ‘romanticising’ a mental illness, because I really don’t see it that way, if you insist on hating me, I’ve already explained my thoughts upon it in this post, and recommend you take a read of it before sending that anon hate. Also, note that I’m only writing this because I believe- well, hope, people who get anxiety attacks can take comfort from it. I’ve also limited personal experience on anxiety attacks, plus everyone experiences them differently, so forgive me if this is inaccurate or just sucks

A/N: I got this request ages ago. Like, literally months ago. I’m so, so sorry to the anon who requested it, and I hope you haven’t been going through a particularly hard time lately

Requested by anon: this might seem a lil weird but could u pretty pls write abt how skz would comfort you when you're stressed/having a panic attack? :(( u don't have to if u don't want to,, thanks bb!!!!

----

Bang Chan

- chan gets really really worried

- you’ve told him how many anxiety attacks you get, and he’s even been with you for maybe one or two of them since you two just started dating

- but he doesn’t fully know how yours work yet

- but he tries his best

- chan has noticed you’ve been on edge the entire day, so he does everything in his power to take off as much stress from you as he can

- but it was just some tiny little thing

- like you spill something while getting a drink, or accidentally trip over yourself

- just a tiny thing and you were off

- Chan comes straight to your side

- he was upstairs getting something and he hears you downstairs

- so he comes racing down, almost toppling over at how fast he’s trying to get to you

- and he just sees you on the floor of the living room, hyperventilating, crying, whatever it’s like for you

- and he just

- he’s trying really hard okay

- to help you

- and comfort you

- he does whatever you need him to do

- stay close to you, get something, play music, sing for you, cuddle you, assure you

- he’ll do anything

- It doesn’t matter how long it takes you to calm down, he’s fucking right there next to you for every single second of it

- doesn’t stop when you calm down. He’s still cuddling you. He just needs to know your okay because he really, really cares about you and wants to help you through whatever you’re going through

- “Are you sure you’re okay, baby? I’m here, you know that, yeah? I’ll always be here whenever you need me”

Woojin

- very very extremely protective

- especially if it happens in public

- you two were in a really crowded area

- and he just

- he gets really worried when you start clinging to him like dear life

- and he’ll hold you really close to him, making sure to try and make it so that you’re not touching anyone, or at least making as little physical contact with any strangers as possible

- then you two get broken up a bit by someone rushing past you

- and it starts

- no one notices since it’s so busy, but you’re still worried that everyone is looking at you

- and that only makes it worse

- you’re just hyperventilating in the middle of the streets, desperately trying not to cry and flinching at every little brush up against you

- and Woojin is just trying as hard as he can to push through the crowd to get to you

- finally, he does

- and he wraps his arms around you as tight as he can, pulling you towards his body, probably faces you to his chest so that you can hide your face as much as you want

- and he just walks you to a more secluded area

- doesn’t matter how late you two are to wherever you needed to be

- he just

- holds you

- and makes sure you’re alright

- gets some water

- probably, being himself, he researched some things like breathing exercises to help with anxiety attacks the second you told him that you got them a lot

- and he takes you through those

- or he probably discussed them with you beforehand as well and is just reminding you how to do them

- helps you ground yourself

- “Are you okay? It’s okay, just breathe. I’m here. You’re perfectly fine, just listen to me.”

Minho

- okay so you hadn’t really told Minho about the anxiety attacks yet

- you started dating Minho maybe a month ago so it hasn’t been a long time

- but still, during that time, you hadn’t gotten one anxiety attack, and that was a really big achievement

- really, being around Minho just made you feel safer

- Minho’s eccentric; he likes the attention to be on him, so when you’re with him, you feel like no one is paying attention to you, and that’s really how you like it best, just as long as you get attention from those close to you

- but one day it’s just bad

- there’s no reason for it. It’s just a bad day

- Minho comes over to surprise you because he can do what he wants

- and he finds you curled up in bed, or on the floor, wherever, just rocking back and forth

- you look a mess and it’s pretty early morning

- “Y/N? Baby? What’s wrong? What happened? Did something happen?”

- he asks a lot of questions

- which just makes it worse

- it stresses you out but Minho doesn’t really notice he just gets worried because you aren’t saying anything

- suddenly you start crying and hyperventilating

- he doesn’t know what’s happening

- then it kind of clicks

- and he just

- he feels horrible okay

- he takes care of you as much as he can, making sure you know that he’ll do absolutely anything you need him to do, stays close to you, tells you he’s sorry, tells you how amazing you are, he just does his best

- and it actually helps, because you rarely see Minho so genuinely worried

- once you’ve calmed down and he’s made sure you’re okay, he starts asking why you didn’t tell him sooner

- and he’s just

- he’s trying his best okay and he loves you very much and he’s just worried

Changbin

- Changbin I feel like...he’s had a lot of personal experience with this

- so he’d know how to take care of you well

- but the first time it happens, he’s just really really surprised

- he gets used to it quickly and picks up on what makes you feel better and what triggers it super well

- and he just

- he really really cares about you and he knows what it’s like first-hand to have anxiety attacks and he really hates to know that you know what it feels like first-hand as well

- you two had been dating for a while and pretty much live together but not officially you know

- he was just over at your apartment

- and you really seemed fine

- well he thought so at least

- you guys were doing everything you’d normally do

- cuddling, maybe watched a few movies, cooked together maybe (and I use ‘maybe’ very strongly on the cooking part)

- but then out of nowhere, you just get an overwhelming feeling of anxiety

- and invasive thoughts just flood your head

- and you break down

- “Y/N? are you okay? Y/N, stay with me. I’m here, I’m here. Look at me”

- you start hyperventilating and he immediately reacts

- squeezing your hands tightly, assuring you, making sure you know he’s there, like Woojin he probably takes you through some exercises or methods to help with anxiety attacks

- he’s very calm about it

- but still worried as hell don’t get me wrong, no matter how many times it happens, he’s just as worried as the first time it happened

- makes sure to take care of you and calm you down to the best of his ability every time

- and he does it really well

- overall, he just does a pretty much perfect job at helping you through everything

Hyunjin

- he’s...he’s very concerned...and worried...he has a lot of emotions okay

- you probably tell him straight away, you want him to know definitely what he’s getting himself into when he asks to be in a relationship with you

- he was slightly taken aback, he just thought you were nervous around strangers, but it doesn’t really stop him at all

- he assures you that he’s ready to deal with whatever you’re going through and will stick by you and help you through it

- he just looks so sincere that you don’t push it any further

- immediately, as soon as you two part ways that very same day, he starts researching everything he can to do with anxiety attacks

- he’s had a few before, but not ones severe enough or often enough to know fully what it’s like and what helps with them

- so he just

- he needs to know everything he can to help you

- the first time it happens, Hyunjin gets really really worried but he tries not to ask as many questions as his instincts tell him to

- his mind blanks slightly, even though he researched so much on the topic

- so instead he tries to comfort you with words and he reached out to grab your hand but you flinch away and he gets so scared that he hurt you somehow

- finally, he regains his memories and immediately tries to take you through things and exercises

- anything that might possibly help you

- finally, you calm down a tiny bit, and when Hyunjin slowly tries to hold your hand again, you don’t flinch away

- he squeezes your hand tightly

- “It’s okay, hey, I’m here, please just focus on me. See? You’re not alone”

- he’s trying his absolute best

- like I said before, he just has many, many emotions and is very worried for you but he does really well

Jisung

- I think Jisung also has a fair amount of personal experience on this

- definitely enough to understand

- Like Minho, Jisung’s eccentric personality helps put you at ease, especially when you two are in public

- The problem, however, is that Jisung wants to show you off because he loves you so much and thinks you deserve the world

- He can’t help himself one day and when the attention is on him, he grabs you and pulls you close to him, putting the attention on you as well

- Jisung immediately notices how you grip onto him far too tightly for it to be affectionate. Then he feels you shaking

- He looks down at your face and he immediately realises what’s happening

- without even saying anything to the people he’s talking with, he pulls you away from there, quickly taking you to someplace else

- by the time you two get there, it’s kicked in despite you not having any attention on you anymore

- Jisung sits you down and bends down, his heart breaking when he sees how horrified you are

- “Y/N, Y/N baby I’m so so sorry. I’m here, come, talk to me”

- he grabs your hands and squeezes them tightly, looking earnestly into your shaking eyes

- you’re positively shaking, tears threatening to spill

- Finally, after a pretty long time of sitting there, trying to properly breathe, with Jisung’s help, you calm down

- he stays silent for a while, pulling you into his embrace and just hugging you

- he doesn’t say that you should’ve told him sooner, he knows now and that’s all that matters 

- prepares accordingly for anything else in the future and tries his best to never, ever do anything that makes you uncomfortable like that again

Felix

- ...uhm...

- he just doesn’t know how to react

- now, he knows a lot about anxiety attacks and has experienced it himself as well, but not too many times

- when you told him about your anxiety, though, he actually wasn’t particularly surprised, he saw the signs for it beforehand

- he said that he wanted to help you as best he could and that it could never stop him from loving you

- when the time actually comes, however, he freezes up

- it’s only when he realises just how much you’re panicking that he springs into action

- the fact that you’re hyperventilating, seconds from tears and look like you’re about to throw up breaks his heart, and it makes him panic as well, though he still does everything you need

- immediately rushes to your side, looking at you earnestly and trying to soothe you

- “Y/N, please...It’s okay, I’m here...”

- like Chan, he will not leave your side unless it’s to get something for you

- gets everything you need, does anything you want

- and if you’re too panicked to talk, he’ll talk to you instead, telling you that he’s here, asking you to look into his eyes, holding your hand and squeezing it

- hugging you as well if it helps

- absolutely anything you want or need, he will get

- maybe sings for you, but only if you ask him to the first time, though, if he sees that his singing helps once, he’ll do it automatically for every anxiety attack in the future (does that make sense?)

- actively picks up on what triggers the attacks and what calms you down

- he’s trying really, really hard and he’s so glad that it seems to pay off

Seungmin

- Seungmin is usually a prankster right but as soon as you have an anxiety attack he turns into such kind, loving, caring, boyfriend that is extremely worried for you and your health

- and then afterwards he’ll turn into a therapist, but we’ll get to that later

- like Felix, he picked up on the signs beforehand, and wasn’t particularly surprised when you told him, but when it actually comes to it, his mind goes blank and he forgets how to react

- quickly regains his composure and runs up to you

- he’s really trying his best to stay composed and seem calm because that’s how he usually is and he feels like if you see that he’s panicking too that will only make you more panicked

- probably just has a lot of general knowledge on how to deal with anxiety attacks for absolutely no reason but he’s glad he has it

- takes you through exercises like a lot of the other members

- afraid to hold your hand in case it puts you more on edge, but eventually he does once he sees that you’ve calmed down

- “Hey you’re not alone. I’m here, right? I’m here. Look at me, please. It’ll be okay, just breathe”

- squeezes your hand to make sure you know he’s right next to you the entire time

- Seungmins can have a very calming presence when he wants to, so eventually, you do calm down

- finally, once you have, there’s a long stretch of silence

- and then he speaks

- and suddenly he’s serious again and starts being a therapist™

- asks what triggered it, what you were thinking, how he could’ve helped, etc.

- very purposefully learns everything that he can to help you specifically

- Seungmin is just tryna be calm for you, but he actually gets super worried

- tries his best to comfort you and learn as much about your anxiety as he can

Jeongin

- he

- he wouldn’t know how to react

- at all

- you definitely told him about your anxiety attacks before you actually had one in front of him because you knew that if you had one and he didn’t know what was going on, he’d freak the fuck out

- he kind of freaks the fuck out anyways, despite having a little bit of experience with this himself

- especially if it’s in public

- you two were just out, but suddenly the place had begun to get extremely crowded

- Jeongin worriedly looks over to you, tensing when he sees you’re shaking

- he immediately takes hold of your hand, but he doesn’t know what to do after that

- it takes a while to kick in that he should definitely take you to a more secluded area, but once he realises that, he gets you there as quick as possible

- you were just hyperventilating, and the hand that Jeongin was holding ws sweaty beyond belief, and everything just started feeling itchy or overheated or claustrophobic

 - he sits you down and grabs your other hand, looking earnestly into your eyes, trying not to show you how panicked he is

- he’s definitely afraid of fucking up and making things worse

- he doesn’t know what to say

- “are you ok? I’m here, I’m here. Please breathe, it’s ok, no one else is here”

- very very very relieved when you start calming down

- he just pulls you into a really tight hug afterwards

- he wants to help but he doesn’t really know how to, just give him some time and he’ll get the hang of it

[my-brothers-corrupted]

ooh, scene requests! can we see some of red and dapper before they were fully corrupted? i've always been interested in that

Note: Jameson has the flu in this, but because he has a fever and a cough I will trigger tag it corona virus. He does not actually have corona, just a bad case of the flu. I just know it’s a time of high anxiety right now so best to keep it tagged :) He is quite ill in the first part of this so be careful.

He won’t let go of him and he can’t let go of him and he’s never letting go of him again.

“I thought you were dead. I thought you were dead.”

Raised red cuts are mountains beneath Jackie’s fingers. He pushes his hands through Jameson’s limp brown curls and presses him tighter to his chest, rocking them both back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you. It’s okay, Jamie, it’s me, it’s me.”

Fuck, but he’s hot to the touch. His whole face glows with fever and he won’t even open his eyes to look at him. Just lets himself be held.

“Anti?” he tries to clarify frailly, his hands releasing Jackie’s sweatshirt for just a second.

“No, no, no,” promises Jackie, gripping at his spine and running his cool fingers across the tight fabric of the torn, starchy dress shirt he wears. “It’s me, it’s me. It’s Jackie, bud, I’m right here.”

Jameson’s eyes squeeze tighter shut, his mouth grimacing. He shakes his head.

“Dream?” he suggests. “Hallucination? Anti?”

Jackie’s eyes lose water and he chokes on a sob, gripping at the back of Jameson’s head. “No. No, Jameson, it’s Jackie. I’m here, really.”

“Not Jameson anymore.”

“Not Jameson?”

“Hot,” he complains, cracking open one sleep-crusted eye, his mouth hanging dully open. “Hot, Anti.”

“Jamie, it’s Jackie. It’s Jackie. You’ve got a fever.”

“It’s not Jackie… it’s not… dream…”

Jameson shivers, burrowing suddenly against Jackie’s body, hiding his face in his stomach, making himself smaller. Jackie puts his head down over Jameson’s and lets the crying shake his whole body, rubbing his back, gentle, gentle.

“Isn’t he docile these days?”

“Shut the fuck up,” hisses Jackie, baring his teeth over his brother’s body and swiping tears from his face. “Stay the hell away from us. How dare you treat him like this? He’s never done anything to you in his whole damn life.”

“He’s mine,” snaps Anti. “He belongs to me.”

“Why? Huh? Why take Jamie? Why do you think he belongs to you? Just because you had him in that fucking box?”

“Oh, Jackie, darling, it could have been any one of you. Things have changed since then… my powers have changed. You all belong to me, you see. And soon? You’ll know that.”

“Fucking creep!” screams Jackie. “Stay away from us! Marvin will come and get us and then you’ll be fucking sorry.”

“Oh, I hope so!” Anti’s eyes flutter longingly, his hands clasped over his heart, and Jackie knows he’s being mocked. “Your dear Marvin! Surely he’ll be strong enough to destroy me!”

“He will. Marvin will.”

“Even your little time traveler couldn’t stop me before I had him drugged and tied down, Jackie. And now he’s well on his way to broken in. Better yet…”

Anti leans forward, his eyes glittering.

“I’m going to have you to help me by the time Marvin comes for me. No, no, the magician can do nothing now, he belongs to me already. Here - supplies for the sick little brat. It’s your job to look after him. If you escape and run away, I will leave Dapper to die. Am I understood?”

Jackie glowers. The floor lights up and he has one second to frown before electricity comes coursing up through his body and he finds himself jerking back and forth on the ground, vomit rising in his throat with small, desperate gasps, unable to scream. Curled against him, Jameson shakes and jerks against his chest, too tired to whistle or cry.

The shock cuts off again.

“No, no, no!” screams Jackie, riding through the last of the hellfire blaze burn, his foot kicking at the floor, Jameson trembling around his waist. “Fuck, oh, oh…”

“Am I understood?” repeats Anti flatly.

Jackie has already taken days of torture.

Anti told him Jameson was dead. He had good reason to believe him.

But here he is.

Jameson trembles and jerks and wheezes in his arms, worn to the bone. Jackie tightens his body around him. He won’t watch him take another shock.

“Yes,” he croaks. “I understand.”

Anti slides something through the bars of their door - a bottle of night-time flu medicine and a tiny prescription bottle labeled “Haldol.”

“Stay here and keep him healthy,” says Anti. “If you’re good, I’ll keep giving him his medicine and anything else he needs. If you’re bad… if you run…”

Anti shrugs, staring down at the shaking bodies wrapped together in the darkness of their little cell.

“Dapper dies as well as Jameson.”

He won’t let him go and he can’t let him go and he’s never letting go of him again.

Jackie pours flu medicine and massages anti-psychotics down his little brother’s throat, pulling a sleepy, disoriented JJ into his arms and lying them both down on the small cotton mattress in the corner of the room, so he can sleep without letting go of him, without ever letting go of him, without ever leaving him or losing him again. He doesn’t know what Anti’s done to him - he doesn’t know what Anti plans to do to either of them - but it no longer matters; it is dust in the rearview. He will keep Jameson safe no matter what he has to do. He tries to start making an escape plan, but he’s exhausted and in pain, and a part of him is just hoping Marvin will come and help them before he even has to risk Anti killing them.

Fuck, he was so stupid. He would have been clever if it had worked. He’s spent his whole life trying to do what he did just days ago: find Anti. Track Anti. Hunt Anti. No matter what he tries. Unscramble his disguised coding, tear apart the false signals, find the heart and hunt it down. Protect Jack, find his brothers. He was a genius, a hero; he knew where Jameson was and he was going to get him back. Years of neurotic tracking and experimental coding finally coalesced into a computer program more clever than a monster made up of them, or at least novel enough to slip past him once. He hadn’t paused. As soon as it was done, he had done it, he had saved them, none of them would ever hurt again. He could find Anti.

He was so stupid.

Dreams of Marvin telling him so. Henrik bandaging him up and scolding him, Chase kissing him and Jameson. You were so stupid, they’ll tell him. But you did it and you saved us and he’s gone and it’s over.

He wets his hoodie sleeve in their drinking water and brings it up to cool Jameson’s forehead, stroking it down his flushed, burning face.

“Can you wake up for me?” he murmurs, rubbing across his stiff, unkempt beard. “I need to get a look at you. You gotta tell me where he hurt you.”

Jameson’s face twists. A breath shudders from his mouth as he turns his head in Jackie’s lap, coughing.

His eyes are hollow with hunger and a great dark bruise swells across his jaw. Blood staining his clothes tells Jackie there’s more in hiding, too. He soothes water across Jameson’s closed eyes and long lashes and then reaches down to unpluck the buttons of his stiff, stained white dress shirt. Jackie doesn’t think he would have packed this when he went up to see the Kamenyes, would he? He’s careful with his nice clothes, sometimes too distressed by the image of the puppet kid he sees in the mirror to wear them. Jackie’s sat with him through enough panic attacks to know that. Did Anti get this for him? He pulls the shirt from his shoulders.

Jameson’s hands come scrambling at his own as he wakes abruptly, scratching at Jackie’s fingers and struggling to pull the shirt back over his thin undershirt, panicked breaths bursting from his mouth. “Wait, wait, wait,” he cries between grappling. “No touch, no touch, no touch!”

“Okay, okay!” Jackie sets him carefully down on the pillows and leaps off the bed, holding his hands out and backing away. “Okay, James, no sweat, no worries.”

Jameson stares at him, eyes wide. “No touch?” he repeats uncertainly, sweat dripping into the water on his face.

“Let’s just calm down a minute, yeah? Don’t have to check right now if we don’t need to.”

Jameson breathes in and out and shakes his head and blinks, once, twice, at the face before him.

“It is you,” he signs finally. “It is J-happy.”

Joy makes Jackie’s face hot and energy races through his hands. He wants to throw himself forward and hug him, but he won’t if he’s not -

Jameson is leaping from the bed and throwing himself into Jackie’s arms.

Jackie whoops and laughs aloud as he feels Jameson pull him into a hug so hard he lifts him up off the ground, the toes of his shoes scraping across the cold metal floor.

“There’s my little brother!” hollers Jackie, laughing and pulling fondly at his hair, pressed to Jameson’s chest. “There’s my - oh, Jaimer… don’t cry, it’s okay.”

Jameson sets him back down, flushed from the brief exercise and the heat of his fever, and staggers into Jackie’s chest, burying his face against his sweatshirt and clinging to it with his hands. Soft, hiccuping breaths dissolve against his chest as it grows wet with salt.

Jackie’s eyes burn. His feet steady now, he wraps his arms around his brother’s trembling body and squeezes him tight, pressing his head on top of Jameson’s.

“It’s going to be okay,” he promises, laughing a little from the awkwardness of it, from the grief, from the fear of what he might say. “Was it - was it so scary here alone? I know it must have been…”

“I don’t want you to be here,” sobs Jameson, his hands striking, flying, flashing, barely drawing away to let him see. “I don’t want you to be here, I want you to be safe at home, Jackie, J-joy, please not this.”

Jackie repositions his hands on his waist and tries to get him to look at him, but Jameson is crying too hard to open his eyes. “Jamie, Jamie! Hell, James, don’t be scared, don’t be scared. I know you’ve been sick, I know he’s hurt you, but I am going to look after you. Okay? And I’m going to find us a way to get home, I swear. I’ll get you out of here, I’m not going to let him keep you again. He said if we cooperate - ”

“I want you to go without me! You can still get out if you don’t have a sick brother weighing you down!”

“What? No way! Jameson, don’t even say that. I have to make sure you get your medicine, cause clearly Anti isn’t going to keep you alive.”

“No, no, not worth it, go, go, don’t want to see you changed, don’t want him to have you too, need to go home to the others!”

“Jameson.” He tries to keep his voice steady. “Jameson, I’m not leaving you behind.”

“No, no,” scream Jameson’s hands, and then he strikes his chest, once, twice, his eyes red and ferocious and terrified. “No, Jackie, you don’t understand!”

“I’m glad I’m here, James, cause at least you don’t have to go through this alone, at least you don’t - ”

“I know what it’s like to be Anti’s! You don’t!”

Jameson staggers away from him, hyperventilating, and Jackie reaches out, helpless.

“Bud, just… just calm down, just…”

“No, you’re the one who’s wrong this time. You don’t understand. Listen to me.”

“Okay. Okay.”

“Anti will change who you are.”

“I’m not going to let that - ”

“You’re not listening to me!”

Jameson whirls on him, and this, apparently, is the last straw on his camel’s back, because his face drains of all color, and his eyes drift deliriously, and then he tumbles -

Jackie catches him and folds to the ground with his head in his lap.

They lie breathing together.

They lie breathing together.

“Just calm. Just calm. It’s okay.”

They lie breathing.

“It really is you,” whisper Jamie’s hands.

Tears trace down his cheeks.

And then a manic, wild giggle blooms up out of his throat and goes echoing through the air around him, Jamie’s body shaking with despair in his arms, and Jackie fights the urge to draw away from him as the frantic movement of his chest sends blood welling up against the little white dress shirt.

“But it won’t be for long,” Jameson weeps, and only then will he let Jackie soothe him back down to sleep, exhaustion and the burning, disorienting, terrifying height of his fever sending him back into dark dreams.

“Anti’s really got you spooked,” murmurs Jackie, rubbing his shoulder. He becomes aware of a faint, flickering smile near the cell door, a soft laugh, wilder still than Jameson’s, shaking soft through the air around him, and he closes his eyes, bent over JJ’s body, determined to block Anti out. Jameson is all that matters. “You’re right, he’s made you a puppet before, and I know that must scare you. And do you remember the night you told me that you needed me, because no matter what happened to you, I was unchanging? And you knew I would protect you as well as I could and you felt safe with me?”

The pride of it, even now, brings a burn to his throat; he throws his head and lifts it up again, cradling Jameson against him, listening to his soft, congested snuffling as he breathes thin and steady.

“It must be scary to think that Anti could change the both of us. Make us people we don’t recognize. But I’m not going to let that happen. You were all alone the first time he got you. Not anymore. I’m going to look after you. I’m going to keep you safe, Jameson. I promise. I’m not letting you go.”

“Sometimes,” says Dapper two months later. “He kills you when you disobey, to make sure I rewind.”

He doesn’t have time for master’s pet’s babbling. He wasn’t good yesterday. He wasn’t very good at all. He needs to make up for it or else, or else, or else. A cold jump of imagined electricity bumps through him and he hisses through his teeth, turning his head to make sure the little one is not crying with the electricity. Can’t watch him get shocked again can’t can’t can’t.

“Tell me where your shirt is,” he demands, grabbing the back of his collar and hauling him off Anti’s bed. “Now now now. Get you ready so you can have your medicine. I gotta make sure you get your medicine. Yeah? Keep you all healthy and clean, huh, pup?”

A frantic edge makes his voice shake and he grabs Dapper’s hair for a second, not sure why, the way he’s seen Anti do it, Anti knows what to do, Anti brushes his hair sometimes and he lets him.

“He stabs you through the skull,” says Dapper distantly. “Or the heart. Or your tummy. And you wail and die and I sit on the bed and stare at you until I can rewind.”

“Gotta be somewhere around here,” moans Red, tearing through the room. They’ve just moved and everything’s in chaos. Did they just move? He can’t remember why. He thinks Anti told him and he thinks that he protested - we can’t move, I have to get home to… I have to get home to…. I have to get home to…

“You have to stay with me,” Anti had answered, wide-eyed and sweet, always so sweet, nice lovely Anti with his swirling you’re-a-mouse-I’m-a-snake eyes. “Or who will give Dapper his medicine and buy him his food and things?”

Oh, of course, of course. Dapper was the only person he needed to get home to. He needed to get him his medicine. He needs to get him his dress shirt.

“Oh, thank God, thank God!” he cries, finding it at the bottom of the hamper. He had missed it the first time because it was so soaked in blood he didn’t recognize it. Whose blood was it? Red’s? Maybe. Or one of the girls he killed last night cause Anti said, don’t you want something to eat? And Red said, I do, I need something for Dapper to eat. And Anti said, well, here, I need you to do this and why don’t you look here, look at me, look into my eyes too, cause I’ll make it easier, and it did and it did and it -

“I used to cry about it,” says Dapper, sitting cross-legged on the floor like Red taught him to do to keep master happy, cross-legged like a pre-schooler, cross-legged like a good boy. “It was the most horrible thing. But, now, Red, you know, sometimes I think you would be happier if I just let you be the dead, gaping, murdered thing lying on my floor.”

“Okay, sweetie, that sounds nice. Come on, get up for big brother, let’s get your shirt on.”

“Blood,” complains Dapper, recoiling from him with a sudden shiver.

Oh, oh. He’s afraid. Red, you’re not supposed to let him be afraid. Everything softens and everything cools. Red realizes he’s shaking and laughs at himself, trying to calm down. There’s nothing to be afraid of. As long as he gets Dapper his medicine. As long as he looks after Anti’s puppet like he was told to do. That’s his job. That’s him. Protect him protect him protect him.

He sits down beside Dapper, their backs falling against the hard wood of the bed board. He tilts his head down and meets Dapper’s eyes.

“I know it’s kind of gross. But you know what happens if you don’t have it on. I’ll buy you a new one next week, what do you say? I can save up, we have enough peanut butter and some canned stuff left. I’ll have enough.”

Dapper pauses. “Canned fruit with the cherries?”

“No,” Red admits. A worm of guilt - fuck, make it a dragon - crawls along the inside of his belly, leaving him ashamed. He can’t even feed him right. “Um, canned red beans.”

Dapper nods slowly, blinking. At least he’s stopped rambling. Is that a psychotic symptom? Red should have maybe listened to what he was saying. Does he need better medicine? He bets Anti will get it for him if he asked. Anti will get it. Anti will get it. Anti gets Dapper his medicine. Anti gets Dapper his medicine. Anti makes the shocks stop and the knife stop and the fire stop and the screaming of the people underneath Red’s hands stop. Anti, Anti, Anti. Protect your little brother. You can’t go, who will look after Dapper? He has a fever. No, he doesn’t, he’s cool against Red’s shoulder. Wait, why does he need to look after Dapper? Was it Dapper he was meant to look after? Anti? No, no… no, it wasn’t Anti, Anti was - why did he come with Anti, Anti hurts him, he’s afraid of Anti, that’s the monster, that’s the monster! What is he - why - Who will look after - didn’t he have other people to look after? Didn’t he have other people to look after, once, a long time ago? A long time ago? Is there a such thing as a long time ago? He can’t remember. He can’t remember. He can’t remember.

He doesn’t know when he started crying or why. He’s laughing too. Or he thinks it’s him. His mouth tastes like burnt promises. At some point he has dropped the dress shirt. The blood is soaking into his skin.

Soft hands clutch at his shoulders. Sobbing, hysterical, Red lets his twin pull him into a hug, and cries until he is breathless, breathless, breathless, on Dapper’s chest.

“But then again,” signs Dapper to himself, feeling his mind drift away again, grounded only by the warm body laid against him and the tug of a rope around his throat which Red tied to keep him from running, so Anti would not be angry, so everything would be okay. Red will not let him go, and Red cannot let him go, and Anti is never letting go of them again. “Maybe you already are a dead thing lying on my floor.”

[mortuarybees]

do u have any more good omens fic recs?

oh boy do i. some of them are fics that i have included in my fic rec tag so if you’ve been in that bear with me there will also be others. basically my preferred and only accepted genre of anything is “unbearably tender” and “aziraphale is extremely neurotic and crowley loves him anyway” it’s therapeutic

at some point im going to update the original reference post with like. all the amazing content ive come across since making it but until then:

one may tolerate a world of demons for the sake of an angel by lumosity aka @femmeaziraphale aka my very best friend

they have started another fic intended to destroy my life in which hell wins the next round and divines a special torment for crowley pls read it and encourage them to finish it because they don’t believe me when i tell them it’s amazing and i am  d e s p e r a t e  for more.

 “You know, you’re very familiar,” Aziraphale said, breath stinking of the sweet wine.

 “Oh? I guess I look like many goat herders,” Crowley allowed. Aziraphale snorted, nudging Crowley’s shoulder clumsily.

 “No! I mean that you just seem like someone I’ve known before,” Aziraphale said. Crowley felt that familiar ache in his chest. Suddenly he wished he was sober.

 “I have a common face,” Crowley dodged.

 “Say whatever you like, but I feel like we fit together quite nicely,” Aziraphale said, resting his head against the bark of the tree. Crowley took the opportunity to watch Aziraphale while he had his eyes closed. There were the same old blonde eyelashes against his cheeks, the one little drop of sunlight that formed a mole at the corner of his eye. Crowley wished to kiss his cheek only once. An apology for not losing. For not giving Aziraphale an eternity of listening to celestial harmonies.

wings and how to hide them by triedunture

Crowley's been annoyingly in love for six thousand years. What's another lifetime between friends? // if you follow me you’ve probably seen me post or quote certain excerpts a million times you may recognize it as His Body Is A Place And It’s Filled With Love.

He swallowed. So bloody awkward, staring up at Aziraphale like this, having his face held. Was he supposed to maintain eye contact? It seemed impossible. His gaze darted away.

"Keep your eyes fixed on me," Aziraphale admonished, giving his cheek a little pat. "Try to imagine, I don't know...slipping into my body the way you'd slip into a new coat." His smile was weak.

Crowley made a face. "Sounds grotesque."

"It isn't! Come now." His voice and eyes softened. "Please. Try."

Deep breath in. He would try. For Aziraphale's sake. "All right." He opened his eyes, held Aziraphale's plaintive stare, and pictured how it would feel. To be a part of Aziraphale. To be held inside him, to surround him at the same time.

To be loved.

hand in unlovable hand by courfeyrock (les mis solidarity)

“Goodnight, my dear,” he says, and Crowley swears, Aziraphale could call him my dear for six thousand more years and he still wouldn’t be able to get used to it. // it’s tender it’s bed sharing it’s “i love you in the human way” it’s quoting that unspeakable broadchurch scene its title is from no children by tmg; in short, it’s specifically designed to torment me.

Crowley’s head snaps around as if on a swivel. “Shall we… what?”

“Go to sleep? Normally I would love to stay up and have a drink or a chat but you see I really am exhausted and I--”

“Yes, yes, of course.”  Idiot,  Crowley thinks.  I am such an idiot.  "I'll uh, I'll sleep underneath the covers, and you can sleep on top." He waves his hand in a forcefully casual gesture that he hopes conveys just how normal it is for two platonic friends to be having this conversation.

everything just stops by witching

they are drunk and crowley wants to take a bath so he miracles one and they have. the most unbearable conversation ever fucking put to fiction literally returning to it to select one single quote was nearly impossible for me emotionally. god the tenderness the yearning!!!! “i like your silly aziraphale things”!!!!!!!!!! “i love you deep, angel”!!!!!! i hate it! just read it please i cant actually keep describing it or i’ll have to lay down for a little while.

 “Are you –” the angel’s voice was hoarse, and he paused to clear his throat, “are you playing some sort of game right now?”[....]

“I am not,” Crowley whispered fervently, his face frighteningly close to Aziraphale’s. “Six thousand yearsss, angel. You’re a part of me, and I jussst – just wanted you to know, is all.”

 Without warning, Aziraphale reached with both hands to pull Crowley in closer, forcing him to drop his own hand from the angel’s face. Aziraphale held him gently, pressing a single chaste kiss to the demon’s forehead, his lips lingering as his thumbs slid tenderly along his cheekbones, his fingers wrapped up in dark, dripping hair.

 When Crowley responded not by recoiling, as Aziraphale had expected, but by melting against his skin and sighing contentedly, the angel placed another kiss on one cheek, then the other. He moved to kiss Crowley’s eyelids, his jawline, his chin, the corners of his mouth, all the time cradling Crowley’s head in his hands, waiting for the other shoe to drop, for Crowley to rebuff his affection.

Crowley, ever one to defy expectations, continued to allow the angel to kiss his face to his heart’s content. It was only when he heard Crowley sniff and let out a pitiful whimper that he pulled back, looking at the demon with concern.

hard feelings/loveless by witching

Aziraphale said it was like the opposite of the feeling you’re having when you say things like “this feels spooky.” Crowley didn’t know what to make of that, but he expected it was something like the opposite of the feeling you get when the only person who truly knows you makes a cryptic remark suggesting that you can’t understand love. Crowley understood love all too well. // crowley. crowley can’t sense love bc he is so goddamn full of love that he can’t see past it he’s just so full of it that he can’t separate it from just how he always is  c r o w l e y. also angelic/demonic mindmelding.

“What about - I mean, if that’s… love,” he struggled to get the word out, “then what’s this other feeling? The one that I’ve been calling love for all this time?”

 “I don’t know,” Aziraphale said. “I can’t possibly imagine.” He didn't have to voice his surprise at the fact that Crowley had an emotion he called love. It wasn't that he had truly thought Crowley was incapable of such an emotion; he was deeply aware of the power and range of the demon's feelings. He simply hadn't thought that Crowley was in tune with his own mind enough to understand it in those terms.

 “Can I show you?” Crowley blurted without thinking.

come as you are by punkfaery (explicit; trigger warning for body dysmorphia and disordered eating)

Aziraphale visits a modern art gallery, goes on a diet, and submits to the mortifying ordeal of being known. Not necessarily in that order. // this mugged me in an alleyway and ruined me emotionally for a whole night but like whatever. it starts with a mary oliver quote so idk what i expected

He dragged a kitchen chair out and sat in it, looking like he wanted to set fire to things with the power of his mind. He was probably angry enough to try it, too. Aziraphale moved a nearby copy of The Earth Compels out of the way, just in case. “It wasn’t really because of him,” he said. “It just made me realise, that’s all.”

“Realise what?”

Aziraphale swallowed. “That I’m not… quite as I should be. That you deserve better.” He lowered his head, feeling wretched. “That’s all. I’m sorry I didn’t say something from the start, but it seemed like a difficult sort of thing to bring up.”

Crowley’s face was indescribable.

“You thought I’d stop liking you because you’re not thin,” he said. His voice was utterly toneless. A muscle ticked in his jaw.

“Well, naturally when you say it like that it sounds – ”

“Seriously? After six thousand years of, of whatever you want to call this? After we literally saved the fucking world together?”

salinity (and other measurements of brackish water) by drawlight

It's an odd thing, getting on after the End of the World. Crowley takes to sea-watching. // michael sheen has read and recommended it. god. it starts with a quote from eros the bittersweet. it took me a full half hour to read past the first paragraph or so it’s so Much.

"I want to see you cook." (Something made from his hands. Something purely Crowley. Nothing pulled from the ether. Nothing sourced and given, no. Something made from his hands.)

He looks at his hands. Holds them up, splays them against the shale backdrop of his ceiling. His hands are always the same, day to day. They are clean but stained. His long and dawdling fingers, his bit of knuckles, his veins and tendons beginning to show a little more. Yes, more, he doesn't know the age of his body but he keeps it somewhere here, at indeterminate forty. There is a hangnail on the ring finger, there are stains of belladonna on the sides, on the rough spots.

Belladonna, that green plant sick with chlorophyll, sick with poison. Crowley is a gardener and he grows belladonna in his bedroom. He knows poisons the way Aziraphale knows the Dewey Decimal System. Yes, he knows them intimately, bent over his long counter, pulling the leaves apart, peeling the stems. Crushing the seeds. He knows not to lick his fingers after, that the leaves and berries are toxic to a grown man, that maybe even Livia had used it once, dripped into Augustus' wine. Not, really, that poisons would  matter  . It’s one of those little perks of the demon gig, that whole  immortality thing. What can get at him; what can cut it short? Only holy water and other blessed things. (Aziraphale is an angel, made out of blessed things. Crowley does not know how it might be to kiss him, mouth to wet mouth. If holy water might burn him, what can he expect from the freshwater mouth of an angel?)

birds of a feather by idiopathicsmile

Aziraphale nests. Crowley relearns some crucial facts about angelic courtship rituals. // look....im weak for home decorating as proxy or metaphor for domesticity and familiarity and this trope is literally this. i die

“Demons definitely don’t court,” says Crowley. “They fuck sometimes, but it’s—I don’t know if you’ve ever seen anything about the mating practices of insects but it’s more—like that. There’s no guarantee all parties will come out in one piece. Never seemed worth it, frankly. I like my pieces where they are.”

Aziraphale takes this all in with a series of slow, horrified nods.

“Wait,” says Crowley, “what do angels do?” He’s never pictured angels engaging with each other at all, outside of maybe mandatory team-building exercises.

“They nest,” says Aziraphale.

Crowley waits for this to all make sense. “What, instead of fucking?”

“No,” says Aziraphale primly. “Not  instead. It’s—it’s part of the courtship ritual. You have to be able to build a decent nest if you want to be seen as a viable mate—”

“Like birds,” Crowley repeats, disbelieving.

“Not like birds, birds got it from us,” shrills Aziraphale.

men have gone to heaven for smaller things than that by mercuryhatter

Aziraphale finds an age slipping away from him. // aziraphale and crowley attend robbie ross’ funeral, and aziraphale mourns the loss of the old circle. also there’s some brief dunking on bosie. i adore this fic with my whole heart

“Listen.” Aziraphale took Crowley’s elbow and dragged him out of earshot of the funeral, releasing him under a nearby tree. “It’s not that I’m not glad you’re back. Remember that, because I’m about to be very short with you, but it’s not that.” He raised an eyebrow questioningly and Crowley nodded.

“That being said.” Aziraphale took a deep breath. His voice was shaking slightly and he tried to press it back to steadiness inside his throat. “You will not get near one more human under my charge this decade, are we clear?”

“Angel–” Crowley started, surprised, but Aziraphale cut him off. Fury was bubbling up inside of him, bright and brittle and with a deeply-buried thread of exhaustion that he couldn’t afford to think too long about.

“No.”

where you stay i will stay by mercuryhatter

at the hundred guineas club, men went under women’s names. aziraphale went by naomi and he paid! to keep ruth free! for crowley!!!! while crowley slept! it stopped my tender heart

“Let’s see. We all know Victoria, of course. Betsey, Henrietta, Georgiana, Chastity, that’s rich, and Temperance too, particular friends of each other, I imagine? A few Elizabeths, not particularly creative… oh.” Crowley nudged Aziraphale until he peeked up from his place hidden in Crowley’s sweater. “Aziraphale.”

“No, dear, I didn’t put that one down.” Crowley huffed in fond exasperation.

“No, honey, you put Naomi.”

“So I did.”

“And… I don’t see a Ruth.”

“No,” Aziraphale sighed. “No, I paid them an extra hundred pounds a year to hold that one for me.”

“For you or for…”

and this isn’t a fic but another essay that means the world to me, making an effort: queer (trans) masculinity in the ethereal & occult beings of good omens by elegantidler and irisbleufic

[1-800-hellraiser]

Requested by: No one

Genre: kinda angsty, with some fluff at the end ;)

Words: 1,214

Pages: 3.3

Associated song: Xanny - Billie Eilish 

!Trigger warning! There's a bit of blood in this chapter, some swearing, and drug use!

=================================

"I'm in their second-hand smoke, still just drinking canned Coke. I don't need a xanny, to feel better"

   Here you are, sitting with your legs put up and your arms around them. Tear streaked cheeks, red bloodshot eyes. You came to this party to have a good time, but your boyfriend met up with his side chick and left you alone.

   Some stoners offered you to play Mario Kart with them in the living room. But you politely declined and instead you're watching them play. You let out a shaky sigh, and stand up.

   "I'll be right back, I'm just gonna go get a drink." A few stoners nod, one of them pipes up. "Could you grab me a Coke please?" You nod, agreeing to his request. You step through the small space behind the couch as to not distract them. You slide by sweaty bodies, making your way to the kitchen. 

   Once you reach the kitchen, you see someone in your peripherals. You turn a bit and see your ''boyfriend'' and his side whore, making out on the counter. You ignore them as much as you can. You take a Coke and a f/s (favorite soda) from the fridge.

   You slowly make your way back to the stoners. Once they come into view, there is someone else sitting with them. He has brown, semi-messy hair and beautiful brown eyes. He is also wearing a cotton black tee shirt with a yellow-ish tan jacket wrapped around his waist. 

    You hand the stoner his Coke "thanks dude," he says, cracking it open. You resume sitting vacantly in your spot on the couch, right next to the stranger. You turn to him, and spot some blood dripping out of his nose. "Excuse me sir, you got some blood right here." You explain to the man, pointing to under your nostril. 

   "Oh, right," he wipes the blood off of his nose "also, you don't gotta call me sir," he sticks out his hand." Please, call me Tim." You hesitate, before taking his offer. "Y/n, good to meet you, Tim." 

   "Hey, Y/n, can I ask you something?" You tilt your head like a confused puppy. "Yeah, shoot at me," You reply. Tim nods "I saw you crying earlier, are you ok?" You feel a knot form in your stomach. "Yeah, I'm ok now, it's just that, my boyfriend brought me here, and now he's with his side chick." You explain, Tim gives you a look of sympathy with a little flash of anger. 

   "Damn, I'm sorry." Tim says comfortingly, placing a hand on your shoulder. "Yeah, I'll talk to him later, probably." Tim nods in response, he then grabs an unused Wii U controller off of the table. "How about a round of Mario Kart to cheer you up?" You giggle and take the controller. 

   "Damnit!" Tim curses in frustration, after you whoop his ass in Mario Kart. You chuckle slightly at his reaction. "Damn, I didn't know I could whoop this much ass at Mario Kart." You comment to yourself, setting the controller down on the coffee table.

   You take a sip of your f/s as Tim gets handed a blunt. You haven't realised that a blunt was being passed around by the stoners. You felt better and less sad about your situation with your ''boyfriend''. Maybe it was just the second hand high finally hitting you.

   Tim taps you on the shoulder. "You wanna hit?" He asks, holding a blunt in between his index finger and thumb. "No thanks, I'm already getting a little second-hand high." Tim nods again and hands the blunt to the stoner who asked you for the Coke. "Thanks man," he responds.

   You continue to play Mario Kart with Tim until the party ends. You and Tim talked throughout the entire thing, so much so that you feel like you've been friends with him forever. You got up off the couch as people were leaving, Tim following your lead. You both get out the front door. You look up at Tim, a shy smile forming on your lips. 

   "I had a lot of fun with you tonight, thank you, Tim." You say as you hug Tim. You rest your head on his chest and wrap your arms around his waist. Tim smiles and sets his head on top of yours, wrapping his arms around your waist. You both stay like that for a solid minute until you hear someone shout your name. 

   "Y/n! Who the hell is that!?" Your semi-drunk ex yells, hobbling up to you and Tim. Oh god, you forgot about him. His side chick at his side, giving you the stink eye. You sigh and prepare for the worst. "Well, since you've been unfaithful in our relationship, I'm going to have to break up with you, I'm sorry." You explain, internally bracing yourself for a fight. 

   "Y/n, babe, you can't just leave me," he smirks letting go of his side chick "I fucking own you." He says as he goes deadpan. You laugh in his face, confidence now surging through your veins. "Own me? Ha! You cant even keep me for five months, how do you own me?" You sneer back at him. 

   "Oh, well dear Y/n, the apartment is in MY name after all! So, you can come back to me or kiss all your valuables goodbye!" He snorts at you. You break a sweat realising he's right. When you guys got together, you bought an apartment and thought it would be a great idea to put the lease in his name. You sigh, all of your confidence vanishing into thin air.

  "Fine. I'll go with you." You look at him with frustrated eyes. "Good" he takes your wrist and grips it hard "try to break up with me again and I'll ruin your fucking world." Your breath gets caught in your throat, realising Tim is standing behind your "boyfriend". "Let her go or I'll fucking end you." Tim practically growls at him. Your "boyfriend" glares at Tim. 

   "Oh yeah? Well then do it, pu-" he stops mid sentence as you see a huge eight inch hunting knife go through your ex's abdomen, then roughly back out. You, gasp in shock, you want to scream, but you can't.

   His side chick however, does so for you. As your ex falls to the ground, his side chick sprints out of view, screaming the entire time. You give a terrified look to Tim. He gently takes you hand, and guides you away from the body.

  "W-where are you t-taking me?" You nervously ask, wanting to pull away but scared as to what will happen if you do. "I'm taking you back to my place. I'll bring you back home after everything from this dies down."

  You nod unsure of what to think. To be fair though, with Tim, you'll be in a better situation, maybe, this won't be so bad after all.

[bangtanstanst]

Mr & Mrs Kim

Your job has never really made your life very difficult, just more thrilling. But your latest assignment changes that, and it’s all because of its target – rival assassin Kim Seokjin.

Or, as you’ve known him for years, your loving husband.

pairing: seokjin x reader

genre: (married) assassins au, angst, a hint of fluff

warnings: blood, knives & guns, violence, mentions of death

word count: 2.7k

a/n: hi guys, I hope you’re all doing well! So this week, I suddenly had this idea to write something based on the concept of Mr & Mrs Smith (the movie™) sO I DID YAY! I wrote the first draft of this in one go and as my dear friends @nambewb and @moonojoon can attest, I heckin loved it OOPS I hope u enjoyyyyy!! Spoiler alert: it’s basically one big fight scene fjdkslfjdksl

masterlist

It’s hours past midnight. It’s pitch black outside, though you wouldn’t exactly know from looking at the window – the curtains are shut tightly, not letting an inch of moonlight through. The bedroom is doused in serene silence, quite the opposite to how you feel – you’ve been tossing and turning all night, though you’ve been careful not to wake up the sleeping figure next to you.

The bastard.

Letting out a slow breath, you turn your head to look at your husband.

He’s fast asleep, face turned to you. It gives you a full view of his closed eyes, his plump lips, parted as he breathes in and out, his chest and broad shoulders slowly rising and falling. His dark hair falls messily over his forehead, brushing his eyelids because he refuses to cut it. You grit your teeth, letting out another sigh – he looks peaceful, serene, like he hasn’t been lying to you all this time.

As silently as you can, you shuffle over to the edge of the bed, slipping out from underneath the covers. You lean over to your nightstand, opening the third drawer and taking out the books resting on the false bottom. With a glance over your shoulder, you lift the bottom and feel around until your hands make contact with cold metal. Cautiously, you take out the loaded gun, hand tightening around the rubber grip.

You take a breath, not bothering to close the drawer again – a higher risk of making a sound, waking him up. You’ll do it after you’re finished.

Turning around again, you let out a sigh, making sure the silencer is screwed tightly onto the muzzle of your Beretta.

You thought you wouldn’t be as hesitant in completing your assignment as you are now, considering how you felt when you discovered what he really does for a living. A mere two days ago, your world had been turned upside down while out on a routine assignment. It had resulted in absolute failure, all because someone else was there trying to get to the target first – all because he was there. ‘Construction executive’, my ass.

Your gun rests in your hands. You force yourself to click the safety off, then point it at his head. Your finger curls around the trigger – you take a breath.

He’s just an assignment now.

“Babe, what do you think you’re doing?”

You jolt out of your thoughts, wide eyes staring back into his. He blinks, eyebrows furrowed. A hand runs through his hair as he sits up.

“You lied to me, Seokjin,” you mutter. Your voice feels rough and you clear your throat, keeping the gun aimed at him.

Your husband slowly raises his arms above his head, looking wary. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Narrowing your eyes, you tilt your head. “Really? So you don’t work for Paragon?”

He freezes in his tracks, frown deepening. He’s on his knees now, sitting upright on the bed. “It was all in your best interest,” he replies slowly. “You could’ve been in a lot of danger if you’d known.”

You don’t reply.

He stares at you for a moment, the serene silence turning cold and heavy, almost suffocating. “But I guess I wasn’t the only one who lied.”

Gritting your teeth, you take a breath. “I guess not,” you reply lowly.

“Helios, right?” Your agency.

You hesitate. The room is dark, but he sees it on your face. It’s enough for him to get the confirmation he’s looking for – though you’re more than sure he already did.

“This is about Houston, isn’t it?” He’s somehow managed to crawl closer to you and his forehead almost touches your gun. You take a step back, ankle bumping hard against the drawer, but you bite your tongue, keeping a straight face. “Taking revenge because I got in the way?”

“What, like you won’t have to do the same?” You raise an eyebrow. “Because I’m pretty sure –” You’re interrupted when he leaps forward, hand grabbing the muzzle of your gun and pushing it away from him. It fires into the wall, the gun drops to the ground – he kicks it away and it lands mere feet away from you. You curse – predictable – and dive towards the gun. Your hands scrape the carpet, shaving off the first layer of skin, and before you can reach for the weapon, you hear a click behind you and you freeze. Of course he keeps his gun close, too.

“You think I wouldn’t defend myself, honey bun?” he sneers lowly.

You’re on your stomach, head turned away from him, and all you hear are his footsteps on the carpet, nearing slowly. “I think you would’ve attacked first if you got the chance.”

No reply. You hear more footsteps – he’s close.

“I just have a job to do here,” you continue, closing your eyes in an attempt to figure out where he is exactly. “It’s not personal.”

“The hell it’s not,” he shoots back. On your left. Not your dominant hand, but you’ll take it. “You’re really gonna kill your own husband for them?”

You scoff. “One of us has to be the first.”

Before he can reply, you roll onto your side and grab his ankle, pulling his leg out from underneath him. He falls to the ground with a loud thud – it knocks the air out of his lungs. You scramble to your hands and knees, reach for his gun, but he throws it out of your reach. It slides underneath the bed.

“Jesus Christ, do you always have to be so fucking petty?” you mutter, though he doesn’t reply. He reaches out, pulls the duvet off the bed and jumps forward, pressing you to the floor and burying you in the white fabric.

“Only when the situation calls for it.” His voice seems farther away, his bare feet padding on the carpet as you struggle with the duvet – he’s going for your gun. You finally manage to push it off of you, scrambling to your feet just as he picks up your weapon from the ground. You look around, eyes scanning your environment.

You don’t have many options here.

He whirls around, aims the gun. In a split second, you jump backwards, grab a pillow, throw it at him. Your alarm clock follows. He has to lower his gun to punch them out of his way – it gives you enough room to pull the third drawer out of the nightstand, swiftly dumping its contents aside.

He raises his eyebrows, amused. His eyes flicker between you and the drawer in your hands, which you’re holding like a baseball bat now. “Really?”

“Really.”

With a scoff, he raises his gun to you – but his confidence makes him too relaxed, too slow, and you charge forward. You swing, the drawer hits his hands and he grunts in pain, the gun flying out of his hands. You go in for the next hit – his head – but he ducks, and you’re thrown off balance. He uses the moment to slam into you, the both of you harshly dropping to the floor, him on top of you. The drawer makes a crash landing next to you, the wood cracking loudly.

Seokjin grins down at you. “Are you trying to –”

You don’t let him finish his sentence, slamming your forehead to his nose. He yells out in pain and his hand flies up to his nose, now bleeding profusely. You push him off of you, change positions.

Your husband groans, blood streaming from his nose down his cheekbones, dripping onto the ground. “You do know how goddamn expensive that carpet was, right?”

“And you do know I couldn’t give a fuck, right?” you return, locking his wrists to the ground. Your eyes flicker around the room – Seokjin’s gun is under the bed, your own is at the door. Bare hands aren’t an option, takes too long. “Stay here for a second, will you?”

You punch him in the face, then in the throat rather than waiting for a reply, diving towards your gun once more and hoping he’ll stay dazed for long enough.

But, of course, he doesn’t.

As your hands close around your weapon, he groans and launches himself on top of you. Blood drips onto you as he lets go of his nose, hands reaching out, trying to snatch your gun from your grip. He’s heavy on top of you, but it’s nothing you haven’t dealt with before – admittedly, in less bloody activities, but still.

Letting out a yell, you thrust your body upwards, taking him by surprise. He rolls off of you, you scramble to your feet, but Seokjin immediately tries to pull at your ankle. You put your weight on your free foot, grabbing the door handle to keep you balanced.

“Don’t make this harder than it needs to be,” Seokjin grunts through heavy breathing. Your own chest is heaving, too, but that doesn’t stop you – you just pull at the door in reply, almost hitting him in the face with it. He lets go of your ankle to dodge and you immediately dash off, bare feet padding the cold hardwood floors. The living room and adjacent kitchen are as silent as your bedroom was previously, though plenty of moonlight is streaming in through the thin curtains.

You spin around when you hear him behind you, holding the gun out – but Seokjin is already way too close and the barrel hits his side. He grabs onto your wrist, twisting your hand.

“Ah, ah, Jesus!” you shout out when pain shoots up your arm. You reflexively let go of the gun – it clatters to the ground. As he dives for it, you run backwards into the living room, grabbing the closest thing that you can reach. Your wrist is aching, but you bite through it and throw the TV remote at his head. He dodges and it smashes against the wall behind him.

“Stop breaking our stuff, will you?!” he exclaims, snatching the gun off the ground.

You spot a wine bottle on the coffee table and you grab it by the neck. “It’s just self-defence, pumpkin.”

“Don’t make me laugh.” He scrambles to his feet, though you’ve reached him before he can aim his weapon. You swing the wine bottle at his head. His eyes widen, he ducks, the bottle flies out of your hands and shatters against the wall, dark red liquid now dripping down the white plaster.

“Aw, that was such a nice bottle,” you lament, glancing in its direction.

“What, you think it would’ve survived against my head?” he shoots back. He straightens, aims the gun at you.

You grab his hand and twist it the same way he did yours. He doesn’t let go – just grunts, face contorting in pain as he tries to hold onto the weapon. “I mean, you always were a softie,” you tease with a grin, though it disappears when his knee shoots up, hitting you in the stomach. Doubling over, you stumble back until you hit the couch. Gasping for breath, you keep your hand to your stomach – Seokjin fires, you dodge, your glass coffee table shatters.

“I thought you wanted to not break our stuff,” you say through a last wheeze. You dash towards him again, ducking when he fires once more. You jump up, charge forward, hand outstretched to grab the gun – but he holds it out of reach, foot flying forward to kick you back. You let out what feels like your last breath, falling to the floor. He aims – you grit your teeth, scramble to your feet, dash farther back until you’re in the kitchen, hiding behind the island.

Seokjin is still aiming, though he doesn’t fire, the island acting as your shield for now. When your eyes scan your environment, you spot the block of knives glinting in the moonlight. As Seokjin slowly walks forward, gun held up, you pull a knife out, the metal scratching against the wood.

“Never bring a knife to a gunfight, babe,” Seokjin jabs, a grin teased across his lips.

“Only if you can throw them,” you mutter, swinging out your arm and releasing the weapon. He jumps to the side, the knife digging itself into the wall. You reach for a second knife, a second chance –

“Hold it!” he shouts, voice booming through your home, echoing off the walls.

You freeze, looking at him. He’s on your side of the island now, your hand inches away from a knife. You’re hesitant to grab it, however – one wrong move, he shoots, you’re dead before your fingers can even touch the thing.

“God fucking dammit, did you really have to do this?” he huffs, taking a step closer. His nose has stopped bleeding, but dried blood stains his face and his cheek is cut. His dark hair is messier than it was before, his chest heaving. A sheen of sweat glistens on his forehead, his neck.

You furrow your eyebrows. He could’ve pulled the trigger a thousand times by now. “You know I kinda have to do what my employer says.”

He scoffs, shaking his head. Takes another step closer. “I guess I should do the same.”

You pause, though you nod slowly. Your arm retreats from the block of knives, and you simply hold up your hands. “I guess so.”

A hum. He takes another step closer, stops within arm’s reach of you. One look at him makes your heart sink – he’s frowning, gritting his teeth, his hand is shaking ever so subtly. He looks small, conflicted. It’s rare on him, but you recognise it nonetheless.

What were you thinking?

The gun is so close that you can grab it and start another bout, but you don’t – you just stare up at him, arms still raised. “How much are they paying you?” he asks.

“400 grand,” you reply without hesitation, eyes flickering down to the gun pointed at you. His finger is resting against the barrel, away from the trigger. “You?”

“Same.”

You nod slowly, taking a breath and letting it back out. You wince – the movement hurts. You can still feel his foot on your chest. The ache in your wrist is getting worse too, and your fist doesn’t seem to be doing much better.

Like you, Seokjin looks exhausted. His chest is heaving with exertion and his arm is trembling, though you’re not fully sure why. His eyes seem to burn right through you, eyebrows furrowed, lips turned down into a scowl. This is it. You refrain from closing your eyes, not wanting to avoid facing him in your last seconds.

A click.

Your heart skips a beat. Is he…?

Seokjin lowers his gun, puts it on the marble counter. You let out a stunned breath, staring down at the Beretta as he shoves it into your direction.

“Do it.”

You look back at him. He nods to the gun, within reach. Slowly, you reach out to it, hands closing around the rubber grip as you pick it up from the counter. It weighs heavier than you remember it actually being.

You tear your eyes away to look up at Seokjin. He looks peaceful, serene.

Taking a breath, you look back down at the gun you’re holding – it doesn’t even take a second for you to make up your mind. With a shake of your head, you take out the magazine, throwing both of them aside – you hear Seokjin’s sharp breath as they clatter to the ground.

“I heard Valiant pays pretty well,” you say, looking back up at him. “Better than 400k, at least.”

He smiles subtly, wiping the blood off of his lips, off his cheeks. “Sounds tempting,” he says with a nod, taking a step towards you. “We’re gonna need the money, too, considering you’ve been ruining the carpet, and the walls, and breaking that lovely bottle of wine…”

“Oh, shut up, you broke the coffee table,” you shoot back.

He puts his hands to the kitchen island on either side of you, leaving you nowhere to go. “I was getting to that.”

You smile, putting your arms around his neck. “I guess I could use a change of scenery,” you mutter, nose brushing against his. Your heart is still pounding, you’re still panting for breath, but adrenaline and endorphins are rushing through your veins and you feel lightheaded in the best way possible.

He smirks. Your eyes flutter closed, lips brushing his. “Valiant it is.”

a/n: thanks so much for reading, I hope you liked it!! I know it’s a lil different from my usual stuff but I’ve really missed writing darker stuff, fight scenes in particular :) Let me know what you thought of it, I’d love to hear from you!! Thanks again for reading and I hope you have a great day/night wherever you are♥

masterlist

[journeysintowebcomics]

Homestuck Liveblog #186

UPDATE 186: Political Assassination

Last time John finally got that tooth off his chest, and Jake agreed to give his endorsement to Karkaroni. Now what will happen? Let’s see.

Has it been days since Jade has been sitting on that couch, levitating and with her eyes completely black? Given everything that has happened in the meantime it sure feels like it has. Roxy’s getting worried, she tried to call Rose but she didn’t respond, so instead he goes for the next option she has: Dave. Who immediately brags about working to stop Jane from screwing up everything. The words ‘neoliberal austerity measures’ are unsaid but they’re like an echo when Dave talks about the presidential campaign, I bet. He’s busy handling Jake’s endorsement speech.

ROXY: i guess in the grand scheme of things

ROXY: shes just takin a sort of nap

ROXY: but its one HELL of a nap bro

‘one hell of a nap, davey, shes been blacked out for, like, a week’

It seems the troll candidate is more popular with the trolls and the carapacians than with the humans and consorts. How don’t they have more consort supporters? Hopefully Jake’s endorsement will change that.

ROXY: lmao dirk just texted me about this

ROXY: somehow he found out about jade did u tell him

DAVE: uh no

ROXY: he just said make sure she gets lotsa daylight

ROXY: that itll help with the “exorcism she needs”.....

ROXY: and also to say hi to calliope for some fuckin reason??

DAVE: thats weird

Well that makes clear what the best course of action is: don’t open the windows nor place her anywhere in the daylight. If Dirk’s advice will help with the exorcism she needs – to get Dead Calliope out – then it’s a bad idea. I’m enjoying this epilogue much more with Dead Calliope controlling the narrative, thanks.

It’s alarming Kanaya isn’t picking up either. Could Dirk have gotten rid of her? I sure hope not! Kanaya has done nothing wrong and deserves to stay alive, what with being the professional when it’s about troll reproduction. She better still be fine and kicking!

DAVE: i gotta give karkat some emotional support

DAVE: since gettin jake on our side was a pretty huge fucking bonanza for us

DAVE: which has almost equal probability of winning us the election as it does blowing up in our faces depending on this speech he gives

DAVE: so we gotta like

DAVE: concentrate here?????

DAVE: instead of jerking each other off all god damned day for the rest of our lives

DAVE: (im just joking we dont actually do that)

ROXY: oh

They don’t do that, much to Jade’s disappointment, I bet. Either way, it’s speech time!

The struggle to take control of the narrative is a petty squabble, says Dirk, taking the high ground by offering Dead Calliope a way out. Buddy, pal, friend, you can’t take the high ground and then insinuate Calliope is ugly as sin. That is petty.

Apparently everybody thinks Dave loves Karkaroni, and although I believe that too, it’s fine if Dave never comes to terms to that. The guy marches at the beat of his own drum, he’ll be fine. This kind of thing can’t be forced on him. Speaking of things that can’t be forced, Roxy wants to know how Dave came out to everyone else as not straight. Oh dear, Roxy, I don’t think Dave ever did that. You’re asking the wrong person – unless you want the answer to be ‘deny it for like eight years now’.

He’s not really denying it right now, though. Maybe he did come out to the others and I didn’t find out until now. He’s not comfortable enough with rapping about ‘boning dudes’ in middle of a stadium where so many people can see him, but he’s not running away from the question. Way to go, Dave! I approve character growth!

Somehow Dave has this entire spiel about all the steps of admitting not being straight. On what phase are you, Dave? Inquiring minds want to know. I’d paste the entire thing here, because it’s pretty good stuff, but it’d feel like I’m applying filler for the sake of applying filler, so I won’t.

Dirk really doesn’t want a conversation about gender. Personally I have to agree because, even though this is great for development and I appreciate all of Dave’s steps, this is kind of a random place to shove this in. Pretty bad place, really. It’d have been great at a different moment.

Horrendously invasive of Roxy’s deepest personal thoughts.

...uh, Dirk, you know what else is horrendously invasive? Taking over the narration and manipulating people around. Also the assimilation plan, that’s more than horrendously invasive.

Okay, this is going for long enough.

DIRK: Do you even know where I am right now?

DIRK: Do you have the slightest idea what I’m up to?

the prince is laboring under the delusion that he has been the least bit subtle in his intentions. he currently stands beneath the carapacian bell tower, poised to climb to the top. he holds the long, red sniper rifle that once belonged to roxy, brandishing it openly and boldly. he seems mysteriously oblivious to the fact that holding a long rifle in broad daylight somewhat tips one to the fact that he soon intends to shoot someone from a great distance. he also seems unaware of the fact that i know perfectly well that the top of this tower has a clear, long-range view of the stadium, allowing any competent sniper a clear shot of whoever happens to be standing at the podium as they give a speech. as jake english is about to do.

he also doesn’t seem to realize i have anticipated his attempt to assassinate his own friend in order to advance his political goals, and that i am prepared to take measures which make this impossible.

It really sounds like Dirk’s getting ready to shoot, he’s up at the right place and has a view of the stadium where Jake will be, but...I don’t know, ever since Roxy said Dirk messaged her about keeping Jade in the sunlight for ‘an exorcism’ I have been feeling uneasy, and now that this all was said just now, well, I kind of suspect Dirk may try to shoot and kill Jade. It sure would free her of Dead Calliope’s control and possibly give him back the control of the narrative. It’s a possibility, no?

Somehow the next few paragraphs resembles a schoolyard roleplaying fight. ‘You can’t reach the top of the stairs because...your feet feel really heavy’ ‘really? Then I can fly’ ‘and then the bell came crashing down on you!’ ‘I cut that stupid bell with my sword!’ ‘not fair!’ ‘yes fair!’.  It’s endearing in its own way.

DIRK: He wonders out loud, “what is this, amateur hour”?

DIRK: The Dead Cherub then humorlessly narrates, “why, yes. yes mr. strider, it IS amateur hour. and i’m the amateur here, for throwing a huge bell at you. i would like to humbly apologize for my amateurism.”

no i don’t.

DIRK: Sure you do.

I’m having fun with this part, guys, I really am! This is great.

This is over when Dead Calliope, trying to stop the focus on Dirk and his increasingly petty narration, turns the attention back to Dave who must still be explaining to Roxy the intricacies of coming out to their friends. I see keeping a show in a standstill is a Strider family trait.

DAVE: well lets just say internalized whatevers are kind of like an onion

DAVE: theres lots of layers

DAVE: they suck on pizza

DAVE: and trolls have to get their stomach pumped if they eat them

That has got to be the most contrived simile Dave has said in recent history.

Dirk continues saying very clearly he’s about to shoot Jake, and the more he states that so bluntly the more I suspect there’s something else going on.

‘Xenophobe’ and related words are starting to stop looking like a real word. It just has been said so many times.

Everything is making Dave feel like something’s wrong – undoubtedly Dead Calliope’s influence – so he gets in the path of any potential bullets, protecting Jake with his own body.

and despite dave’s quick and well-justified action, what is also unbeknownst to him is that the sniper no longer poses a threat of pulling that trigger. because everyone knows that for all of the prince’s shortcomings, he would never expose his beloved brother and son to the risk of a heroic death.

DIRK: You’re absolutely right.

DIRK: I would never do that.

DIRK: I’d never kill Dave, no matter what I felt the stakes were. I’d never hurt him either.

I’m pretty willing to bet taking over Dave’s self doesn’t count as killing or hurting him, therefore it’s fair game. Dave would be pretty unhappy to know what Dirk’s doing, anyway. The narrative reveals what’s in the sniper rifle are not bullets, they’re tranquilizers. It’d be a non-fatal way of keeping someone out of the way for a while. The second thing Dead Calliope got wrong, though...

DIRK: Yes. You’re right about the tranquilizer.

DIRK: But there’s one more fact you’re not aware of.

DIRK: Which is that I never intended to aim for Jake at all.

Well then! Turns out I may have been right about that he intends to shoot Jade. He must feel really confident about it if he can announce it aloud after aaaall the charades he did to fool Dead Calliope. Is it Jade, Dirk? Will you tranquilize Jade and pretty much put her to sleep – non-fatally?

Dirk spins in what must be the tiniest bell tower ever, given he only has to spin to change direction and be able to aim somewhere else, and gets ready to shoot. All Dead Calliope can do is freeze Dirk’s finger on the trigger, but he thought ahead and made the rifle to be voice-operated. All he has to do is say ‘fire’. Which he does! Game over for Dead Calliope?

Pretty good aim, hitting a vein from all this distance. Jade indeed has gotten tranquilized, and I’m pretty sure given this isn’t the first time Dirk uses tranquilizers – he uses them in TV – it shouldn’t be too hard for anyone to realize this is Dirk’s orangey shady hand making the moves.

The insult against Jade is uncalled for, Dirk. But yeah, the result of all this is that Dirk is once again back in control of the narrative, which makes me sigh with exasperation. I really liked Dead Calliope’s narration more than Dirk’s, so I’m not looking forward to this change.

Roxy drops to her knees by the couch, pulls the dart out of Jade’s neck, and tries to shake her awake. But it’s no use. That’s a heavy dose I gave her. Could be out for weeks. Maybe months? Can’t have any cherubs messing with my business on this planet. At least not until I’ve taken my leave. But Jade’s gonna be fine. Don’t worry about that.

So...she’s pretty much in a coma. Could be worse, could be worse. She could be dead. This is barely better.

Cherubs are fuckin’ weird, I’ll totally concede. Still not sure what makes them tick. What they idealize, what they really want. It all comes across to me as a little cloying. Perfection to them is a sweetness beyond comprehension. Sugar so potent it’s poison to us. To our bodies, to our souls. Like the place she was operating from was a realm of self-construction. A bubble of pure, phantasmal confection.

Well, I for one have had enough of that goddamn toothache. I’m back in the protein saddle, motherfuckers. I’m clacking my tongs, and the charcoal is hot.

Now who’s hungry for meat?

Does that mean the candy epilogue is all Dead Calliope’s influence seeping through instead of Dirk’s? It could be interesting to see what kind of thing she does to the world. Although...given the effects of the trickster lollipop and how ‘sweetness beyond comprehension’ is perfection to them, it’s bound to be nightmarish. I’m actually looking forward to that!

Speaking of meat, holy shit. You just look more fucked up every time we come back to you, don’t you, John?

You’re a disgraceful mess right now. Covered in blood, mysteriously sticky, bruised all over your arms, legs, and neck. Terezi practically raked rows into your back. You catch sight of yourself in the rearview mirror. You’re kind of embarrassed by what a postcoital train wreck you look like when all she’s got is mussed hair. And you should be embarrassed. Seriously, it’s like you were mauled by a wild animal. Jesus, don’t either of you have any shame?

Ah. Okay then, good for them, although I’m pretty concerned. Such a physically intensive activity can’t be good for the guy with a gaping hole in the chest and the troll who still must be half-starved. I won’t be surprised if these two just pass out and die anytime soon. I’m not entirely sure, but it seems things are awkward now between these two. Maybe it was all a spur-of-the-moment move.

You sit together on the hatch, like when you first met up days ago. Terezi crawls into your arms, and nuzzles right up against your chest so you have no choice but to hold on to her. You would have done it anyway if she asked, because you’re a total sap. The kind of guy who no doubt thinks banging a girl in a car is some deep, soul-shattering experience that bonds you for life. Yeah, John, you do think that. You think that you and Terezi are basically married now.

I can’t tell if he really thinks that or if Dirk’s funneling those thoughts into him. The line between what the character feels and what Dirk wants them to feel is pretty blurry by now.

After all this, Terezi gives up on looking for Vriska, so this is a prime moment for her to fly by and find them. She doesn’t, though, and John proposes Terezi to go home with him. Can they even go home? John is so tired it’s possible they can’t – which he really should have thought about before doing said physically intensive activity. Nobody to blame but yourself, John. Seriously, you have an open wound and bled like four liters of blood. You’re as good as dead.

He feels the urge to lie down and sleep, which is a pretty bad idea given the situation. Terezi rouses him up, so instead he decides to give this a try and zap back home. Hmmmm...if he’s so tired right now, it’s possible the act of zapping home will drain whatever energy he has left, so I’m not...very optimistic about John’s chances of survival. Would this count as a heroic death? Can you die from a heroic death if you die like two weeks after the offending injury is made? If he dies from exertion after having sex with Terezi that doesn’t count as a death because having sex with Terezi is neither heroic nor just, no? Oh well.

Back in the stadium, the inexistent assassination attempt may have given Karkaroni a push in the polls, and Dirk spends quite a while brandishing Jake like a piece of meat. Really, can he be treated as more than a flat character whose only non-flat trait is his posterior? Jake’s nervous and fidgets around, so much Dave and Karkaroni show concern and offer to cancel the speech and/or the campaign. It seems our favorite presidential troll still doesn’t like the idea of having leadership, he’s ready to throw the towel anytime. Jake insists he can do it, so he starts!

I don’t remember Dirk being so outright antagonistic in Homestuck. It’s making me pretty uncomfortable, I have to admit. It feels kind of out of nowhere, just like Jane’s sudden xenophobic inclinations are. What was Hussie thinking when he wrote all this? What was his intention?

Jake’s getting pretty nervous and I can’t tell if he’s getting stage fright or if Dirk’s influencing him to be nervous. The latter is a possibility, no? Wouldn’t be surprised if that’s what’s going on.

Why don’t you have a good, long think about that, Jake.

Is this really the time for a good, long think? Jake muses to himself, actually putting a finger to his chin like some public domain clip art picture of a befuddled guy. If the crowd is confused by his rapid-cycle mood changes, they don’t show it. Jake’s got a bit of a day-drinking problem, which has been slavishly documented in the global tabloids. That’s how you avoid responsibility, isn’t it, Jake? You can fool your fans, but not yourself. The truth is that there’s a canniness to the act. It’s partially cultivated. You’re stupid, but you’re not nearly as stupid as you pretend to be.

JAKE: What in the devil was i thinking coming here?

JAKE: Why did I...?

JAKE: I came here to...

... slide the biggest knife any motherfucker ever wielded directly into your friend Jane Crocker’s back?

She loves you, Jake, more than anything, and you toyed with her heart. And you would have guiltlessly toyed with her “kettle drums” too had it not been for a bit of divine intervention, let’s decide to call it.

Sigh. That’s...that’s all I can do with all this. Sigh and keep reading. Third time I’m scrolling through the epilogue a tad faster than I should. It’s pretty much an entire page of gaslighting. Nothing really worth delving into, mainly because it’s pretty uncomfortable to read such a thing. Dirk’s being the abusive ex, pretty much. Nothing really worthwhile.

JAKE: I love dirk!

JAKE: IM IN *LOVE* WITH DIRK!!!

 And to love Dirk is to obey him.

You know, there are a few reasons why I’m thinking of liveblogging these epilogues. I’ll explain them later, but right now I may as well say a word of two: the epilogue is competently written. The events in it are interesting, and the interactions are raw and full of emotion. It’s all pretty unpleasant to read, which makes it a bit novel, like swallowing bitter medicine. It’s pretty good, in a technical way.

But it simply doesn’t work with Homestuck characters. It just doesn’t.

Anyway, let’s continue scrolling down to the end of the page and go to the next.

I was right in that zapping back to Earth C would take what was left of John’s energy. He barely can give three steps before he falls down, so it’s all up to Terezi now. She wants to bring John to Jane, so she can revive him. I don’t think she has revived him before, so it should be a good idea. It’d be better to bring Jane to John, though.

It doesn’t matter. This isn’t a wound you can recover from. It’s Game Over this time: no healing, no afterlife, no cosmic clock proclaiming your sacrifice as Heroic. The poison needling through you is antithetical to narrative relevance. You’re not dying, John. You’re being erased. Cherubs don’t fuck around. We’ve both been learning that the hard way.

Oh, nevermind, it’s something not even Jane with her life powers can fix. I wonder if, once John is erased, nobody will remember him. That’s what happens when there’s no place for you in a narrative, no? Hmmm...

John already know he’s irreversibly going to die, and tells Terezi not to waste her time, that he was dead the moment Lord English bit him. Which is true, given this poison. Then he says he was dead the moment he woke up that morning, which...I suppose is the depression talking.

You died the moment you made the decision to go meet your destiny. You would have lived if you made the other decision, under a certain definition of the word “living.” You might have even lived until the end of your immortal life span, as shitty as that sounds.

So he’d have lived for the rest of his life if he had decided to do nothing. Makes sense. This may have been for the better, given Lord English needed to be defeated, so it’s time well-spent. It’s rather unfortunate it involves John’s death, but...in a way I saw this coming. Pretty tragic outcome, and given this epilogue has been chock-filled with a lot of tragedy and pessimistic scenarios, it only made sense this would happen.

It’s dying words time! Terezi is really affected because she really cares for John, and also they had a ‘emotionally significant sexual encounter’, so she’s even willing to listen to all the sappy stuff John will say in his deathbed. This is bound to be rather emotional! And the fact he can’t even think of something appropriate to say in his final moments is what makes it emotional because this isn’t how he imagined this would go. He can’t even think of quotes from his movies. Terezi offers to tell everyone John Egbert said some cool stuff in his final moments and make everybody believe it somehow, so instead John goes straight towards the sappy and tragic. There he goes!

JOHN: i think... i really lo—

TEREZI: DONT YOU D4R3

JOHN: i... r-really lov—

TEREZI: DONT YOU D4R3 FUCK1NG D13 ON M3 1N TH3 M1DDL3 OF 4 LOV3 CONF3SS1ON!

TEREZI: 1 FORB1D 1T!!!

JOHN: but... i...

JOHN: i...

Then John dies in the middle of a love confession.

Love confession on the deathbed! It’s like this truly came from a movie, haha. Terezi is devastated, so much she can’t even bring herself to cry properly. Once she confirms he’s dead, she ponders what she should do now, alone in the world John wanted to bring her to. She doesn’t have anything else to do, so after a moment – and at Dirk’s behest – she takes John’s corpse in Dad Egbert’s wallet and starts walking.

It has been a month already. Jane won the election after what I figure was Jake’s endorsement speech for her, so that’s that. Terezi has been rather lost this whole month, and nobody has seen John Egbert – instead of saying he’s dead -- so I suppose she hasn’t told anyone he’s dead. Rose has been missing the entire time and Kanaya has been pushed around by Dirk’s machinations to keep him distracted while he keeps Rose locked away somewhere, both mentally and physically, I figure. All in all, it’s a pretty grim outlook for everybody in Homestuck. Also, Jade is still in coma. Terezi goes to visit her, perhaps to tell her what happened to John?

Dirk continues being so salty Roxy’s experimenting with her gender, apparently. Aren’t there a million other things to deal with, pal?

Roxy is very glad to see Terezi, and she takes Terezi thinking she’s Dave as a compliment. She also compliments Terezi, giving her some heartache because it makes her remember the time she spent with John. It may have been a few hours, apparently. Time works in mysterious ways up there in paradox space!

The reason Terezi is here is because she feels John would come here, and she’s right, I bet. John would want to check on Jade as much as he can, so now that she’s carrying John’s cadaver around, she feels she should handle this all herself. It’s also confirmed she hasn’t told anyone John is dead.

ROXY: back when jade first got all effed up callie saw somethin and it made them freak out

ROXY: it took me weeks to convince them that it was safe to come home

ROXY: but now we got the opposite problem and they arent leavin the house at all

ROXY: they stay home all day with the blinds drawn paintin some weird ass shit on the walls

TEREZI: WH4T?

ROXY: its not as bad as it sounds i promise

ROXY: some of it is like

ROXY: weird and violent??

ROXY: like lotsa nasty purple blood and um

ROXY: nudity????

TEREZI: >:?

ROXY: yeah yikes

ROXY: but MOST of it is cute stuff like... various combos of all of us being happy and gettin married and shit

ROXY: anyway thats kept callie kinda busy

ROXY: so it was hard as hell to convince them to let me come see jade at all

ROXY: its like theyre traumatized

ROXY: and they think ill drag whatever possessed jade back into our home with me

So the end result for Calliope is that she’s traumatized. Seeing a dead version of herself possessing Jade must have really rattled her. As I said, this is all pretty grim for everyone in Homestuck, goodness. Although...part of me wonders if her current state is partly because of Dirk’s influence. He’s petty enough to mess with the living Calliope’s head as a ‘take that’ for Dead Calliope.

Someone tries to contact Terezi through her phone, she’s not sure who it’d be. Perhaps Dirk? He did show a preference to sending messages to his former friends and acquaintances. As if things weren’t awkward enough for Terezi, she’s asked if she knows what happened to John. Terezi, you can’t keep this under wraps forever. Sooner or later you have to tell everyone John died because of injuries in Lord English’s fight.

It seems Terezi can hear Dirk perfectly even when he’s talking in the narration, I suppose it’s because of her aspect. Oh, be careful with the stuff you say, Dirk! She’s also willing to whisper stuff to address Dirk, even if it gets odd looks from other people. On the other hand, this kind of leaves her more vulnerable to Dirk’s machinations, no? Part of manipulating people is responding to what they say, so with some luck this won’t go belly-up.

Once the conversation is over Roxy leaves and Dirk exposits Terezi still feels guilty about hiding John’s death from everyone, and she can’t even confide in Dave because of mistakes she did as a teenager in another timeline. It’s the curse of having the Mind aspect, isn’t it? Knowing what the choices cause. All of Dirk’s exposition bothers Terezi enough for her to tell him to scram, and he refuses to do so.

Come on, Terezi. You don’t belong here. You know you don’t belong here.

Do you feel threatened by Terezi, Dirk? Is that why you’re trying to push her away? I don’t think Terezi has anything that could be particularly useful against Dirk’s plans, so I’m not sure why he’s bothering to mess with her like this. She even points out they barely have crossed words.

Okay, I believe he feels threatened by her in some manner because he tries to convince her to join him in...some place. More like he wants her out of Earth C. He even offers to let her take John with her, which is why I’m sure he made her pick up the corpse, so he could manipulate her by using John. He finally leaves her alone with her thoughts, sure he managed to convince her enough. We’ll see.

Stopping for now!

Next time: next update

[laketaj24]

Twisted: Gangster!M’Baku/ Dom!Erik

Thirst 💦👅 Day requests for you! I have never written slap kink but hey, first time for everything. Triggers are in the tags! If you like my work reblog/like/comment lol Thank you! I have two more left!!!!! I know I’m bugging yall! my bad! 

Requests:  

Coming for the kinks, you say??? Well can I request a dub con fic with my beloved Killmonger? Lol - @vanitykocaine​

 Hey. I'm currently on vacation but I'm using the little ounce of free wifi that I can't get to send in a kink request 😂😂😂😂 Can I get a Erik with a praise kink? Either him praising the reader or the other way around but i need some nice Erik to even out all these good nigga Erik's 😂🤣 thanks love 😘❤❤❤ - @valynsia​​

Office sex with Erik? - @yaachtynoboat711​

I don't really have a kink to be honest. But maybe super possessive mob boss where he dated the reader and had a daddy type of relationship. They break up but he spots the reader out with a new boyfriend? Maybe super hot smutty public you will always belong to me sex? - @scumyeol​

Yay! I would die for some face/ass/titty slappin and biting with Erik. I dont care who's doin the slapping i just need a pain kink fic tbh.if you do this I'll be eternally grateful, if u dont i still love you dear!!! - Anon

Sooooo for that thirstday post....... all i can think of right now is m'baku and just straight up rough sex 😁😁😁 like the "you are being annoying because you haven't gotten any in a while so I gotta help you" type of sex - @pebblesz892​

So, thirst day? I’d like to request M’Baku with hair pulling and dirty talk. Please and thank you 😈 - @muse-of-mbaku​

Mbaku smut- @mbakuwifey​

You and Erik had been together for nine months and you didn’t want anyone else, even your ex M’Baku. Some things were not meant to be and that just happened to be one. Erik had his ways… Selfish. Loud and arrogant but when all the bullshit washed away you saw the real him. The him that truly wanted this to work with you. He opens the door for you and your Manalo heels hit the floor.

“We ain’t gotta stay long if you don’t want to.” Erik places his hand at the nape of your back and ushers you into the club with him. This was his scene. Always being seen talking to everyone and he had you right there with him introducing you like the Queen he claimed you to be. “This is my girl Y/N, Y/N this is Mike.”

You wave at him and talk casually then slip away from Erik dying for a drink and a moment to take it all in. You sit at the bar with your legs crossed. “Shot of Jack, please.”

“Sure thing.” The brown headed bartender said winking at you.

You shake your head knocking back the shot and watching your surroundings entertained. Then you feel a hand on your shoulder. “Enjoying yourself.” M’Baku whispers in your ear taking the barstool next to you for himself.

Your heart is heavy for a moment remembering how sultry that voice was and how it had the power to make you weak. “What do you want?”

“This is my spot.”

“Oh, you still illegally winning I see.” You roll your eyes and stand up from the bar. He’s in front of you shaking his head. “Can we talk for a minute? Five minutes?”

“About what?”

“You’ll know when we start talking.” M’Baku leads you out of the main area to a room overlooking the dancefloor. The music still loud but you were able to speak without yelling. “New guy?”

“yeah, he’s cool.”

“A fuck boy, but if that’s what you consider cool then okay.” M’Baku lights his blunt inhaling for a moment and sitting on the couch in front of you. “you moved on quick.” He slowly blows out the smoke leaving the room in a haze for a moment.

“It’s been almost a year. Who all have you fucked hmmm, big thug nasty M’Baku. I left you because you didn’t want to grow up or live in the real world. You wanted to sit up here and play all these fucking games and honestly I don’t have time for that shit.”

“Who are you talking to?” he stand placing the blunt in the ashtray and pulling you closer to him. “Perhaps this new man has given you some type of power that makes you think you can address me like you’re crazy but no. you could be fucking the entire squad and you’re still fucking mine. I think it’s time your remembered.”

“M’Baku, he’s looking for…” He’s before you shaking his head flipping you around so that your chest is flush against the glass. “M’Baku…”

“Keep saying my name.” He says with his hands traveling up your legs. You moan as he pushes into you with his thick fingers once and then again. The crowd below you can’t see you at all but the thought of Erik watching you fuck another man makes you wet. “Does he fuck you like I do?” M’Baku whispers in your ear aligning himself up quickly thrusting into you.  You’d forgot his power. His hands wrap around your ponytail and your head is against his chest as he pounds into you. “I don’t care who you have on your arm.” He grunts thrusting into you and pulling out slowly only to fill you again.

“Oh fuck.” You gasp hearing the smack of your skin together. You grab onto the bar as he increases his speed biting his lip while gripping your hair so hard it hurts. “I can’t breathe.” You scream. “I’m fucking coming.”

“Then come, what you holding that shit for?” M’Baku smiles slamming into you so hard you do come. You see fireworks explode around you as your snap your eyes shut. Your knees are weak barely holding you up and you feel him lift you up still fucking you over and over. “I want you to go home tonight and fucking feel me when you sleep.” He growled. “fuck that other nigga.” M’Baku feels you clutching around him and it triggers his own release. He spills into the condom with a roar that for sure could be heard downstairs and lowers you to the ground. “You better get dressed. Old dude probably on the hunt.” He picks up his blunt and tucks himself back into his pats leaving the room.

 Erik was insistent on you going home with him tonight and you didn’t want to, you wanted to wash M’Baku off your body. You wanted to cry in the shower and try to push out all the get good shit you and M’Baku had in the past, because he was not for you. You grab your overnight bag from the car following him into the house. Erik’s house was lavish like him.

“Baby, I sweated at that damn club all damn night. You mind if I get clean and I’ll be right up.”

“Nah ma, take your time I gotta finish some shit from the Outreach.” He kisses you on the lips softly and you go head up the spiral staircase. You bathe taking your hair down from the ponytail and slipping on one of Erik’s shirts. He was a hard worker. He was always in that office doing something. You head down the steps to his office where he is typing a few things into the computer. He had changed to, he was shirtless and smiling. “You done washing that nigga off?”

Your heart drops for the second time tonight into your stomach. “What?”

“You heard me…” He stands up from the desk and in three strides is in front of you. “You up there fucking yo ex like I don’t have people every fucking where watching you. So did you wash that nigga off?”

“Yes.”

“Nah, we at home now….” He raises his eyebrow at you awaiting your tone to change.

“Yes N’jadaka.” You look up at him with your mouth slightly parted trying to remember to breathe. “I’m sorry N’Jadaka.” You whimper. “Baby…”

He rubs your face softly and then his three fingers hit your face sending a zing pleasure below. “what are you sorry for?” Erik says rubbing your face again then he hits again and his hands down to the hem of your shirt pulling it over your head. “Tell your Prince what you sorry for?”

“Fucking M’Baku.”

“Giving another motherfucker what’s mine.” He growled. “Hmmm?”

“Yes…”

“Good girl, I like when you’re honest… sit on the desk. I didn’t get to eat today and I’m fucking starved.” He sucks air in through his teeth and you see those gold canines. “You’re not to come when I do this? You hear me?” He slaps your thighs crouching down in front of you, his eyes looking like they had seen a god. Erik laps his tongue over your clit and then sucks for a second. You were already sensitive and yearning but the teasing of him didn’t make it easy to not cum. You closed your mind off as he sucked and twirled down below pushing your lips firm against the cold wooden desk and taking his sweet time. Each time he licked your heart spiked and your breathing became more labored.

“N’Jadka please.” You moaned. “Please.”

“You don’t deserve that shit.” He said against your thigh. He raises from the ground leaves you aching. “What do you think you deserve?” he asks.

“To cum.”

“Nah, next…”

“Your dick.” You plea kissing him tasting yourself on his lips.

“Good as answer baby girl, drop to them knees for me.” You do in front of him and you stroke him in your hands. Then he knocks your hands down tapping the side of your face with his fingers again. “Suck.” He pushes to the back of your throat nearly suffocating you and then pulls out and then he’s back again causing your eyes to well. Erik slaps the side of your face over and over with his hand and you can’t take it. You want him inside of you and you try to pull away, but he has grasped the back of your head thrusting into you nonstop until your saliva is trailing from his dick. “Take it.” He growls and you do bobbing your head until he’s nearly there then he stops you.  “Good girl. You wanna come?”

“Please.”

“Please what?”

“Please N’Jadaka let me come.” He shakes his head and you can see the demon in him rising up. He grabs both of your breast gripping and twisting until it hurts then slapping and you feel yourself nearly come from the pleasure of it. He knew how to do those things to you. Erik places you back on the desk.

“What if I went around giving your dick away huh?” You don’t answer so he spreads your legs. “I told you I don’t like that sharing shit.” He smiles against your neck and lifts you just so he can slide into you. He pounds you for a few seconds and then slows when he feels your body tensing near a climax. “Nah, you don’t deserve to come. You ain’t sorry.” He slides out and your legs clamp around his waist. “What?”

“I am sorry.” You plea. “Please…”

“I ain’t convinced ma.” His tip toys at your entrance and you thrust forward and he moves teasing you. “You don’t run this shit.” Erik leans in and sucks on your neck and your throw your head back. “Next time, I will fucking kill him.” He says in your ear as he pushes back into you. Erik grips your hips bringing you to meet him at every thrust and your breathless scratching down his back and your boy starts to shake when the euphoria hits you in waves.

“Yesssssss.” You hiss. “fucking yessss N’Jadaka.”

“You gone see that nigga again…” He asks through clenched teeth.

“No baby.”

“That’s fucking right.” He growls tapping your face before he kisses you again. “Good fucking girl coming on daddy’s dick like that, god damn.” He chants in your ear licking from your earlobe to your neck. You come again as his pace quickens and you feel him swell inside of you. “God damn!” He pants withdrawing from you and sending his cum down your legs.

Tagging:  @challaxkillmonger @wakanda-inspired @misspooh @valynsia@vanitykocaine @harleycativy @jecourt@virgosapphire79@sparklemichele@theunsweetenedtruth@ahhhhkeya@iamrheaspeaks @thiccdaddy-mbaku@muse-of-mbaku@myboyfriendgiriboy @someareblindtoitsbeauty@brittyevans@almostpurelysmut @readsalot73@ivarsshieldmadien@slimmiyagi@cinnabearice @royallyprincesslilly @hutchj

[creatoranimator]

Walking in The Rain (Tree bros) Part 1

This is my first time making a fic (and posting it), I don't normally make fics (cause I don't rlly like my writing) and this is more of an art blog, but I fail at that too so... This is about deh sky high au (ik it's not rlly popular) and it’s based on this post. Oh and this is tree bros 

Words: 1357

Ship: Tree Bros (Evan x Connor)

Part 2

Trigger Warnings: only a bit of swearing

Thanks!

Evan woke up that morning in a pool of sweat and flowers in his bed. The first day of senior year. He wanted to make a good impression on his teachers but thought about it also the night before and now it just makes his head hurt. The more he thought about it, the roots, vines, and flowers would feel as if they were tightening around him. 

“Morning sunshine,” Heidi poked into his room with a basket of laundry. “First day of senior year, hm?” Evan sat up but didn’t look directly at her. 

“Yea, I guess...” He said tugging on the hum of his shirt. Heidi set the basket down by the door and sat on Evan’s bed.

“It’s going to be alright. Because,” The roots around Evan grew tighter, “Because life will find a way to turn out. it’s going to be okay.” She stood up and walked into the hall. “Breakfast is downstairs for you, don’t forget to eat.”

Evan decided on a light blue shirt with strips, a nice simple color, nothing too noticeable so he can blend in the hallways easily. He looked at his cast. A reminder that he...

... wasn’t going to change much this year it seems.

It felt like only a minute had gone by and he was out the door walking to school. It was misty out, Evan liked the rain. He decided that walking was peaceful and he would try to focus on something other than the people around him. Where-are they staring? Why would they- maybe because his plants around him are too obvious or maybe they looked weird or maybe because he had a cast showing that he was weak. Or maybe it was the fact that every step he took a flower would sprout from underneath him, and the more he thought about it the quicker they grew-

“is it weird to be the first person in history break their arm from-”

“P-please don’t finish that sentence, Jared.” The flowers stopped growing. It was then Evan realized that he was standing in front of the school. 

“So then how did you break your arm?” Jared said taking a step closer. What do you say? You cant just say that you climbed a tree because you-

“I um... I fell out of a tree...” Evan felt vines grow up his back.

“What are you? An acorn?!” And at that moment Evan felt little acorns grow around him, falling from his head. He desperately tried to brush them off, but they kept growing which only made Jared laugh harder.

Once he stopped laughing, they walked into the school. They were in the hall where out of nowhere it seemed, Connor Murphy appeared which gave Evan a mini shock. Evan had him in a few classes from earlier years but never talked to him. He sorta liked his sister, Zoe, but decided that he doesn't even have a chance with her, so why even try?

 Evan tried to keep walking, but he noticed Connors’ new hair length. To be honest, he kinda liked it-not that he didn't like it the way it was before, he just never thought of a haircut like that on another boy to be... attractive? Evan didn’t know what to think and couldn't help but wish that Jared won't comment on it. How he was wrong.

“Hey Connor, loving the new hair length. Very troubled teen chic.” Evan froze.  It was quiet for what felt like forever until Jared broke the silence. “I’m kidding. It was a joke.” Jared said slowly. Evan could feel the flowers around him bloom, a deep purple, god-he did not mean for this to happen. They always turned a darkish-red shade when he was embarrassed, blue when he’s anxious, (which is a lot) pink when he’s flustered, yellow when he’s happy, and black when he is... on the ground waiting for someone to find him.

“Yea, no it was funny,” Connor then looked directly at Evan. He could feel the roots tighten. “I’m laughing. Can’t you tell? Am I not laughing hard enough for you?” Evan wanted to run. Just get out of the are and just forget everything that is happening right now.

“You’re such a freak.” Jared left, but Evan didn’t. He couldn’t. Physically actually. Vines, flowers, and roots were clinging to his legs. Why did Jared leave him there?!

“Stop fucking laughing at me!” Connor took a step closer. The roots tightened.

“I-i’m not-” 

“Is that why there are fucking flowers everywhere?! You think I’m the freak?” God stop. Just stop these flowers, just let him control the plants around him for once just let him breathe just let him-

“N-no, sorry, I”

“You’re the fucking freak!” Connor shoved Evan to the ground and fell onto a bed of flowers. The hate in Connors’ eyes when he did that- it just took Evan by surprise. The roots broke off, Evan sat up and turned around and saw Connor vanish. He must have invisibility in his power.

Evan stood up slowly. He then noticed that roots were completely covering his left arm like he was trying to hide it. He was trying to hide it. Evan brushed the roots off, walking to the bathroom to relax. He found a pink flower fall from his hair.

After school Evan found himself finishing his therapy letter to himself in the computer lab. He could have sworn that he was the last one there, but once again by surprise, Connor appeared out of nowhere. 

“Um- Dear Evan Hansen, is this yours?” Connor was standing near the printer and had the paper in his hands. 

“U-um yes.” Evan somehow manages to say. 

“What happened to your arm?” Evan looked down at his cast, little fines growing around it.

“I-I um, I fell out of a tree..” 

“You fell out of a tree? Well, that’s the saddest fucking thing I’ve heard. Evan saw pink petals fall from his head. “What’s with the...”

“Oh, sorry, I just do that s-sometimes, sorry it’s linked to my emotions. Like y-yellow when I'm happy, blue when I'm anxious... so...” Evan looked at his cast, which is now covered in pink flowers.

“What does pink mean?” Connor cocked an eyebrow. Evan felt his face turn red and stomach drop.

“Oh-um,” He hesitated. “um... embarrassment.” He lied. Well, it was kinda true, he was embarrassed. But there was no way Evan could say he liked Connor. God dammit. He had a crush on him.

“Why are you embarrassed?” Connor furrowed his eyebrows a bit, not in a mean way, more of a curious way.

“O-oh, um sorry I, um,” By this point some of the flowers where reaching Connor, who was three meters away. Connor decided to cut him off.

“Nobody signed your cast.” Connor took a step closer. 

“O-oh well um, you see, I don’t have t-that many friends-You d-don’t have to-”

“Do you have a sharpie?” Evan pulled out a black sharpie from his pocket and handed it to Connor. Connor took Evan's arm and watched the flowers completely cover his cast. “You have to stop doing that if I’m-”

“-Oh, right, sorry,” Evan said as he brushed off the flowers and vines and tried his best to control his powers. Connor finished writing his name in big bold letters and picked off a flower off of Evan’s wrist. “Ow.”

“Oh, sorry does that hurt you?” 

“Oh- no, not really it’s j-just that you a-are pressing on my cast-” Connor didn't realize that he was still holding Evan’s arm.

“Oops.” He let go and he vanished for a split second. “I fucking do that too much. Anyways, here’s your paper,” Evan reached out for it but Connor then started to read it. Evan put his hand on the paper desperately trying to stop him. “..because there is... pink flower petals in the way?” Connor looked at Evan and cocked an eyebrow. Evan took this chance of his powers going out of control to take the paper.

“S-sorry it’s just a dumb project I have to do- um,” please don’t read the rest of it.

Thanks for reading, I’ll finish this soon!

[isroselalondebisexual]

What do you think Rose Egbert would be like? :0 And Dave Harley, John Lalonde, and Jade Strider

Rose Egbert, raised in a supportive, loving home environment, would probably still be fighty and punchy because I don’t think there’s a single parent in existence that could ever change that about her, but she’s also very likely going to be more inclined to wait until being PROMPTED before she lets loose her floods of salt and snark. So like, a pretty regular girl on first impressions, definitely deeply entrenched in her Hot Topic mall goth phase, wears chokers from Spencers and whatnot, but pretty friendly at face value and in all the advanced literature courses, has been in every psychology class the public education system offers. On the debate team. And so you’re like, cool, she’s on debate, that should be fun, she’s pretty well composed as a person I bet she has some good thoughts. And then you attend one of the debate matches. And you see a side of Rose Egbert you never knew existed and holy hot DAMN you’re not sure if you’re terrified or in love with her. Possibly both. Probably both. She’s quick witted alright, devastatingly intelligent and in this to WIN. Dad Egbert has all of her debate trophies (medals? I wasn’t in debate idk how these things work) displayed as proudly as he displayed his clown statues in the canon timeline. Her role as a Seer of Breath is to best free the timeline and her friendgroup from the clutches of the Literally-A-Demon Lord of Time, who seeks to enslave them, their timeline, and the universe to his whims, to become his playthings. Her role is to forsee the best route, not in terms of luck, but as a specific, pointed fuck you to Doc Scratch, Lord English, and everything associated with them. That part in canon where Rose is talking to Doc and he’s like “do you even still have that emotion?” or whatever and she’s like “Why, yes, it seems it’s all been mysteriously relocated to my middle finger. The dark magics are at it again.” Like that but times a thousand she is SMART she has FORESIGHT and she is going to FREE THEIR TIMELINE, BITCH.

Dave Harley grew up alone on an island with a magic dog and some weird chess folk, so first of all he doesn’t know what a gender is so jot that down, second of all what do you mean boys don’t like boys? Obviously boys like boys, he likes boys, u r foolish, u silly human culture you. So uh, you know how Dave is like, this huge massive attention whore in canon and he starts out “I’m so cool are you noticing me being cool and not caring over here”? Yeah no, immediately bypasses that, this boy wants ATTENTION so TALK TO HIM DAMMIT. His only real guide for physical touch has been a dog and some people who are not human so Personal Space Whomst? Dave is here, he is in your personal space, you are paying attention to him bitches. His collection of weird dead shit is even weirder, given that it is a Harley tradition to taxidermy weird shit and also he lives out on an island now. Probably takes the PRETTIEST photos of like, the island views and stuff, which he naturally posts online and gets a lot of likes and reblogs for which, good, give him that sweet sweet validation. His selfies are everywhere. Go like them. His role as the Knight of Space would be a pretty important one, he’s upholding the balance of the universe and breeding the new one and stuff, which basically just means he’s the weird frog dad now. You see all those frogs? Those are his babies. He loves them. Smorch. Dave ew don’t kiss frogs that’s gross. Dave does not care, Dave is gonna smooch those frogs bc he loves them and all their mutant little paradox offspring. Dave the frog whisperer. Whenever Karkat’s getting screechy he just like. Takes one out of his sylladex or his hood or pocket or SOMEWHERE and sets it delicately down in front of Karkat when he’s not looking and Karkat proceeds to screech and flip out and Dave laughs at him. This Dave is likely a lot more carefree, but doesn’t have a good grasp of concepts like “responsibility” or “giving people space.” A good and goofy kid, with some nice tasty abandonment issues probably thrown into the mix there somewhere. He doesn’t wanna be alone again.

John Lalonde very likely has a very bad grasp of what consequences are. If he breaks shit, they can just buy a new one, if he pranks someone a little too mean or says something that goes a little too far, his mom is easy to forgive him. My dear sweet ADHD child probably didn’t do too good in school and did a lot of class clowning tomfoolery but Mom Lalonde didn’t discipline him for it at home so threats of “I will call your mother if you don’t settle down” didn’t have much of an effect on him. He’s a good kid! Friendly and loving and affectionate, but if he fucks up he doesn’t take responsibility for it and pulls the “it was just a joke!” card way too frequently and doesn’t know how to actually apologize or fix his mistakes. But even though he’s very outwardly childish, he’s also surprisingly mature for his age, by way of like, opinions and stuff? Like he’ll say stuff and it’ll seem totally left field for him cause John you’re like, the funny dude of our group, but he’s also the one who knows how to disinfect wounds and the RIDICULOUS importance of making sure your older sibling knows who their DD is when they’re off drinking with their friends and while he doesn’t have an emotional reaction to traumatic events right off the bat (like in canon) he does do a VERY good job of responding pragmatically to them, and that’s kind of a result of yeah, his mom’s his buddy, and yeah, she lets him get away with anything, but no, John doesn’t really get the chance to be a kid ALL the time, and in part he acts out like this because he’s frustrated that he CAN’T fully be a kid, so he’s overcompensating. His role as the Heir of Light would be as somebody who embodies luck and intellect, which he doesn’t really feel like he can do. He’s not smart, right? He’s never done well in school. But he has really high emotional intelligence, and he’s got street smarts no 13 year old has any business having, and he eventually comes to realize that he is lucky. He’s very lucky. He’s got good friends who love him and who he loves, a strong team who can conquer the world, the universe, even a demon with the strength of a green sun, and when John comes to appreciate consequences and ramifications of their actions, he would be better able to understand how to use his powers to become the luckiest little shit in the universe, and could look death in the face with confidence because he understands, now, he’s realized some things, some the easy way and some lessons were painfully hard, but he’s confident in what he’s doing and he’s got his friends at his back.

Jade Strider, I hate to say it, but I think she would end up a very meek individual. Very, very hypervigilant, aware of everyone’s mood around her and this HUGE people pleaser, because as far as she’s concerned “not actively pleased” might as well be utterly synonymous to “actively displeased.” Life is uncertain to her, she’s very diligent about reading the moods of others and making them happy. Everyone loves her and think she’s just absolutely the best, she’s always ready to listen, always eager to cheer her friends up when they’re feeling down, doesn’t say jack SHIT about herself. If people ask she straight up lies. She does NOT talk about her own problems, even worse than in canon. She is happy go lucky and pleasant to be around, see? She’s doing great. Don’t worry about her! Oh do you need to talk about something? She’s got hair-trigger reflexes and does NOT react well to sudden loud noises or jumpscares. She’s very forgiving, because it’s only natural that sometimes her friends will hurt her feelings, right? That’s what love looks like. Some things just can’t be prevented, so why bother. Lotta learned helplessness kinda shit going down. Very reactive to positive feedback and physical affection (as long as she sees it coming) but has no idea how to go about asking for it. She’s very popular at her school for being pretty and cool and badass and friendly all tied up into one but her friendships are very shallow with her school friends, because if she cannot open up about herself, what room is there for emotional intimacy? As a Witch of Time, her main thing that needs to happen is she needs to get fed up. She needs to get pissed off. She doesn’t deserve this shit! She’s thirteen! She doesn’t deserve a parent who didn’t love her, she doesn’t deserve to have the weight of the timeline on her shoulders, she doesn’t deserve to see her own corpse over and over and fucking OVER again! This isn’t fair, this isn’t right, she doesn’t FUCKING want this, fuck her Bro fuck the Game fuck keeping quiet she’s a KID and she’s HURTING and she will be fucking UPSET about it! And then she’s gotta let John, and Rose, and Dave hold her and tell her she’s right, she’s so right, she is absolutely entitled to her anger, she’s allowed to feel angry about this, she’s gonna be okay though, they’re there, they love her and they’re not gonna let anyone hurt her ever again, she’s allowed to feel hellfire down deep to her bones but then, most importantly, she needs to let her friends help her, she needs to trust them, and learn how trusting works, learn what love looks like and how all her little broken pieces fit back together. And no, she’s never gonna fully recover from that. She knows she’s gonna be a compulsive liar down to her dying day and she’s never going to be able to trust openly like some people do, but she’s got people who love her and who she loves dearly, and she’s going to be okay, and every day it gets a little easier. Some days are bad, yeah, some days she’s angry over stuff she thought she got over years ago, but at the end of the Game, after all has been ripped asunder and they’ve moved into their new lives on Earth C, she is allowed to recover and to rest and sure it’s not always easy, but she’s always trying, and things are better now.

[panticwritten]

Pearl-Handled Shotgun: Chapter One

Yeah. I have no posting schedule for this haha. We’ll just see how it goes.

Prologue

Word count: 2978

TW:

Emotional warfare (of the controlling parent kind)

Hardcore dissociation

Reference to police brutality

Alyssa

“You’re lucky we could keep it out of the newspapers.”

Alyssa doesn’t look at her father, drumming her nails against the arm of the chair. Her mom watches from a chair behind him, her disapproval clear in the curve of her brow, the thin line of her mouth. The teen turns her head so she doesn’t have to see either of them.

“That man could have pressed charges. Do you think he would have gone after your little friends?” She bristles at the sneer in his voice, but she keeps her mouth shut. “You have a promising future ahead of you, I won’t stand by and watch you throw that away.”

She nods idly, the bare minimum of what he wants from her.

“I don’t know where this is coming from, your lashing out. Your brother never did anything like this.”

Ah, there it is. Calim, the perfect son. The good one. The easy one.

“He just never got caught,” she mutters.

“What was that?”

She looks up, at the familiar anger in her father’s eyes. He cocks an eyebrow up, expectant. She sighs and shakes her head. “Nothing. I’m sorry.”

He stares at her, his gaze hard, before returning to pacing to and fro in front of the fireplace. “What else have you been doing behind our backs? It isn’t safe, and it certainly isn’t acceptable.”

“Last night was an accident,” Alyssa says before she can hold the words back. “We took a wrong turn.”

He stills, burning eyes back on her. “You shouldn’t have been out at all last night!”

“I already apologized for that.”

“You can’t really think a petty ‘sorry’ will make up for breaking our trust? For sneaking out, so you could—what? Run around the city with a group of delinquents?”

She straightens up, scrabbling to hold onto her unruffled air. “Delinquents?”

“They’re a bad influence.”

“They are not!” Shoulders squared, Alyssa’s practiced placidity ruptures at his ‘holier than thou’ stance. “Stephanie and Jared are good friends, and they don’t treat me like a glass doll or a- a- a piece of advertising!”

“Alyssa, dear, please don’t yell,” her mom warns, her voice soft. It diffuses the immediate tension in the air. Her father says nothing. The coolness in his eyes, however, tells her the damage has already been done. Alyssa clears her throat and continues with more restraint.

“I apologize, sincerely, for what happened. I should have been honest with you.” She pauses, heartened when her father jerks his head in a nod. “It wasn’t the first time I left without permission, and it was unfair of me keep you in the dark.”

“How many times?”

“What?”

“How many times have you snuck out?” he asks. His deceptively level voice spreads anxiety through her chest, thick and sticky in her throat. She swallows it down and makes a mental tally.

“Twelve?” She offers. It’s not counting the days she used shopping trips as cover for driving the roads on the eastern edges of Portland with her friends, but she doesn’t tell him that.

He considers this thoughtfully, as if deciding whether he’ll have honey or jam on his toast. Alyssa sees it in his eyes when he comes to a conclusion, one fist coming down on his open palm.

“Then we’ll discuss this again in twelve weeks.”

Her heart constricts in her chest, driving her to her feet. She manages to keep her mouth shut, but that’s not enough. It’s never enough. He raises a brow, unimpressed, and starts for the family room door.

“You won’t leave the manor unattended until then. You have ten minutes to tell your friends before I collect your devices.” He pauses at the door, looking back with a painfully detached expression. “Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir,” she says automatically, unable to suppress the reflex.

The door closes behind him, with hardly a whisper. She stares unseeing at the polished surface, almost wishing he had slammed it. She lowers herself back into the chair, wiping the back of a hand over her eyes before the pinch behind them can turn into tears.

If he can keep ahold of his temper, so can she.

“It could have been worse.” Alyssa jolts violently when her mom speaks. She had almost forgotten she was here.

“I know.” She doesn’t look over, dragging her phone out of her pocket. Steph and Jared will lose their minds if she just disappears for three months, especially after her father left them in jail for the night.

“You could have been killed,” she continues, voice low. Alyssa freezes, her fingers hovering over the screen. “ Just because we are who we are doesn’t mean it’s safe to get into trouble. An officer won’t think twice before they pull that trigger.”

Alyssa nods, looking up. Without her father here as a distraction, she now sees what she didn’t before in her mom’s furrowed brow, pressed lips. Fear, not disappointment. Regret pangs in her chest. “I know, mom. I swear we weren’t trying to do anything illegal.”

“That doesn’t matter.” She rises from her chair, full of grace as always, and offers her daughter a strained smile. “You need to be careful. Smarter. I’ll try to talk your father down, but I do agree that you need time to think about what happened last night.”

She nods again, and her mom starts for the door.

“I’m sorry for scaring you.”

She doesn’t answer, closing the door silently behind her. Alyssa sighs, sinking deeper into the back of the chair, and pulls up a group chat.

A<-- Hey.

A<-- I am SO sorry about my father, I can’t believe he just left you there.

A<-- I hope you both are okay. At the very least, that you’re home safe.

A<-- I can’t leave the house on my own for a few months, and he’ll be back for my phone any minute now.

She watches the screen with bated breath. After a moment, both of their icons appear beside the messages. Before she can register her relief, Steph responds.

S--> hey!

S--> i was starting to rly worry

S--> mom picked us up right after u left

A<-- Oh, thank god.

J--> a few months

J--> what the hell

J--> my dad took my keys but like

J--> just for a two weeks

S--> im grounded for a month :(

A<-- We’ve talked about my parents before. Are you really surprised?

J--> nah i guess not

J--> but thats hella rough

J--> someone needs to take some parenting classes

S--> im sorry aly

J--> how to be a good dad and not alienate your children or whatever

J--> oh shit yeah we kinda did get you in trouble huh

A<-- It’s not your fault. My mom said she’ll try to change his mind, but I doubt that will do much good.

A<-- Besides, you both got in trouble, too. It’s as much my fault as it is yours.

J--> no man dont say that

J--> youd never been camping thats a fucking crime

J--> i mean shooting at teenagers for pitching a damn tent should be a crime but thats a whole other thing

S--> jj

S--> not funny

A<-- He’s right, though.

J--> hell yeah drinking down this validation

J--> glug glug motherfucker

S--> stop

S--> ur ok tho?

S--> like should we worry?

Her phone slips through her fingers, pulled away by nimble hands, before she can answer. She hadn’t noticed her father come back in, and he leaves again without otherwise acknowledging her. She watches him go without a word.

Arguing more would make it worse. She’s lucky to have gotten ten minutes.

Now that she’s alone with nothing to do, she hefts herself upright. She stares at the embers glowing in the fireplace, considering what to do for the rest of the day. She has schoolwork due on Monday. She needs to decide within the month between Oxford—her father’s alma mater—or the local university her friends already enrolled in.

PSU sounds more fun. She wouldn’t like to think of the repercussions that may come out of that decision, though. Her parents don’t even know she applied.

She shakes her head and strides out of the room. Her feet take her along the familiar path upstairs to her study while she broods about three months without the promise of a night out on the town or a day flying along back roads in Jared’s convertible. By the time the bars are lifted, she’ll have graduated.

And she’ll have a month with them before her inevitable shipment off to Oxford.

She slams the door much harder than intended at the thought. She’s visited the campus a few times, walked through the city, and something about it leaves her uneasy. It’s beautiful, certainly, but it feels wrong.

She leans back against the door with a sigh, peering at the stack of books on her desk. The last thing she needs is for her grades to slip. She’s on thin ice as it is.

Her gaze drifts to the shelves lining the back of the room. They hold the books she’s sequestered from the library, or those that have been gifted to her.

She crosses to the closest shelf, running a finger along the books’ spines. Many of them, she still hasn’t read. She hasn’t had time to read since her parents began taking her to functions and benefits.

She dips a finger over the lip of the first in a series of old tomes wrapped in leather, one of her mom’s gifts to her this past Christmas, and drags it out. The first seems more weathered than the rest, the cover dull and rough rather than polished. She skimmed the first few pages when she first got the books, and she know there must have been effort put into it. The whole series is handwritten.

It’s as good as anything else.

She takes the book to her desk, promising herself that she’ll only read for a while. She has to get some work done before dinner, after all.

*****

“Alyssa? Are you in there?”

Alyssa jumps at the crackle of the intercom, heart racing and unseeing eyes leaving the yellowed pages of the book. It takes a few seconds to orient herself, remembering where she is. When she does, she recoils at the headache pounding behind her eyes, the roiling tension in her stomach.

She glances back down at the book to find it open near the middle. She can’t remember reading more than the first few pages—it was written as a personal diary of a slave girl named Brietta. She wrote in a neat script about mundane chores and city life, but she can’t remember the details of the anecdotes. She closes her eyes to try and remember.

Her stomach turns over when she catches a wisp of it, but it doesn’t stay long enough for her to grasp the memory itself.

“Alyssa!”

She jolts again, her eyes flying open. She rushes from her seat to the intercom and presses the flashing button for the dining room.

“Yes, mom, I’m here. What is it?”

“Come down for dinner, dear. I hope you haven’t been working too hard.”

She hesitates before answering, looking back to the book. It must have been hours since she holed myself up in there. She doesn’t remember any of it. She shakes her head and taps the button again.

“I’m fine. I’ll be down in a minute.”

She returns to the desk, ignoring her mother’s confirmation, and turns back to the first couple pages of the book. She finds the mention of ‘afternoons near the cold river after tending to mother’s sickness,’ jams one of many bookmarks upon the desk between the pages, and snaps the book shut.

She leaves it on the desk for later investigation, hurrying out to join her family in the dining room. Maybe some food will ease her lingering nausea.

By the time she enters the dining room on the ground floor, both of her parents are already perched in their seats at the far end of the table. Her mom greets her with a warm smile, her father with a nod from the end chair.

She apologizes for being late and takes a seat across from her mom. The air lays heavy upon the room, increasing the pressure behind her eyes. Even the light viola drifting from the wall speakers can’t break the tension growing with each overdone slice of a knife her father grinds on his plate through the steak.

She struggles to keep from screwing her eyes shut against it, forcing her hands into measured strokes. One bite at a time, then this will be over.

“So.”

It’s her mom that breaks the silence. All sounds of eating pause for only a moment, the rhythm of the meal changing, before continuing as though it never stopped.

“It’s gotten warm awfully fast this year, hasn’t it? Just last week it was freezing.”

“And now we’re in the upper seventies,” her father agrees.

Alyssa manages hold back a physical sigh of relief, bringing a stalk of asparagus to her lips. Her parents chat about the weather, and she keeps her head down—metaphorically speaking.

“How was your afternoon, Alyssa?” her mom asks, bright eyes on her. She lowers a slice of steak back to her plate and clears her throat with a brief glance at her father.

“Uneventful. How was yours, mother?”

She inclines her head, a conspiratorial smile playing on her lips. “Absolutely boring. My husband and daughter were hidden away in their studies all day.”

She laughs before Alyssa can feel guilty. She reaches across the table and brushes her fingers over the back of Alyssa’s hand, forgiveness promised in her eyes.

“Hidden away?” her father remarks. His words flow warmly, a rare grin directed at his wife. “My door is always open to you, Carmen.”

“And watch you approve paperwork all day? No thank you, sir!”

Alyssa can’t help but smile at the exchange.

“And you? You were upstairs for quite a while.”

The sharp change in her father’s tone straightens her spine, and her my expression morphs back into one of bland interest as she turns to meet his eyes. The sudden movement jolts her headache, and she isn’t able to hide all of her wince behind her clenched jaw.

“I was catching up on some reading for class,” she lies smoothly.

“I see.” He nods and leans forward in his chair. “You don’t look well.”

She hesitates, unwilling to admit the truth. She can’t imagine her father’s reaction to her losing several hours of time would be good, so she waits for the jammed cogs in her brain to churn out a suitable response.

“It’s just a headache,” she promises after a long pause, ignoring the way her stomach somersaults as she speaks. “Eye-strain, maybe. I was reading for several hours.”

“You shouldn’t work so hard.” Her mom’s serene interjection prompts her father to return his attention to his plate.

“I lost track of time.” Alyssa offers her a smile. She mirrors it, then turns back to her husband to discuss their upcoming trip to the capital.

Alyssa wastes no more time clearing her plate and asking to be excused. Her mom tells her to take an ibuprofen from her purse in the front hall, which she does on her way back upstairs.

Back on the third floor, she pauses at the door to her study. Just a few steps down the hall, her bedroom waits. Her bed waits, and the pounding behind her eyes feels like reason enough to take an early night.

With a sigh, still, she jerk the door open. She left the lights on, and the glare shining from the glossy cover of a textbook almost turns her back around. She stubbornly crosses the room and takes a seat at her desk.

The leather book waits for her, and she nearly flips it back open on impulse. She glances over at the stack of texts to her right, the slip of paper poking out of the first with a list of tasks.

She lifts the book, the rough cover feeling familiar under her fingertips. The cover doesn’t bear a title or an author, just the letters B.O.F. embossed across the front. She runs a finger over the initials, then the edge of the cover.

The trailing string on the bookmark knocks a pen from the desk, and she straightens up. Within moments, the book is hidden away in the desk drawer. She can read it later, when she’s gotten some work done.

Her work is much harder to get through than she may have hoped. Her headache slowly fades, but she can’t concentrate. Her thoughts keep circling back to Oxford, her friends, and the look on her mother’s face when they spoke in the family room.

That woman has been through enough.

She drops her pen on the desk and groans, pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes. She’s been reading the same line over and over for the past—she can’t even see how long it’s been because she doesn’t have her phone!

You don’t need to know the time when you’re working. You’re done when the work is done.

She shakes her head in her hands, banishing her father’s words into the ether. He’s taken enough energy from her today.

It’s not fair.

She rises from the chair, every movement sticky and slow. Flicking the desk lamp off, she pads to the door, covering a yawn with the back of a hand. She only made it through two of the six readings due, and she still hasn’t touched the worksheets, but she has all of Sunday to get them done.

She barely registers the walk down the hall to her room. She doesn’t bother turning the lights on, merely kicking her shoes off on the way to the bed and falling face first onto the pillow. Her father will likely have words with her if he catches her sleeping in her clothes, but she doesn’t care.

[chinashopbully]

‘I Like Birds’ ch. 12 PREVIEW

(~2500 words) In which Bruce is exasperated, Tony is exasperating, and the author doesn't know shit about restraining himself from adding in a brief bonus!POV halfway through the story.

(also there's a donation request stuck in there at the bottom. don't want that to catch anyone off guard.)

He’s run out of things to try.

Bruce was already on the edge of doing something that’d instantly raise the Homeland Security alert levels. Roping the other Avengers in to help was supposed to increase his options, and thereby decrease his frustration, and thereby serve the overall purpose of world peace.

But of course, since Steve got pulled away on some international something-or-other, and Natasha already came and went with what seemed like maybe twenty minutes in between, only one Avenger has been around lately.

And of course, it had to be Tony.

“Have a little faith in the kid,” says Tony.

“Says the guy who tried to hold him against his will ‘for his own good’?”

“I’m never gonna live that down, am I.”

“I’ll forgive you when he does.”

“Gonna be tough to know when that is if he’s already drunk the Kool-Aid.” Tony pauses, scratches the hair at the nape of his neck. Bruce can’t tell if Tony’s overall greasiness is from handling machine parts or not showering. Both, probably. “Okay so that,” says Tony, “that came out wrong.”

“Damn well better have,” Bruce mutters, stalking away to the other side of the lab where there’s Less Tony.

Tony’s voice covers the distance a little too well. “All I mean is that if he really is chanting Oms and preparing his body for the mothership or whatever then nothing — nothing — we do or say is gonna bring him back down to earth. We try to reach out, it’ll just drive him away. Probably even prove some point about us outsiders being ignorant or hostile…”

“Not that I disagree,” says Bruce, not as under-the-breath as he intended, “but where was this understanding when you were having your AI lock down the building?”

“And anyway I don’t see how it’s our business either way.”

“How do you not give yourself whiplash?”

“Also,” Tony says, “he has powers. It not like he’s helpless.”

Bruce stares. “…I don’t want to sound like a broken record but—“

“So it takes me a while!”

The response sticks in Bruce’s throat. Fact: Tony Stark sucks at people. Sometimes willfully, often not. Occasionally it’s hard to tell which is which.

Bruce shuts his mouth.

Tony drops the torque wrench and reaches into the bag of blueberries dangling from DUM-E’s claw (probably on JARVIS’ orders). “Are we sure he’s not, y’know. Undercover or something?”

“If he were onto something — if this were work-related he’d tell us.”

“That’d be kind of a first.”

“He’d tell me.”

“You sound awfully sure of yourself.”

“He promised,” says Bruce.

“Well did he pinkie promise?” Tony leans back, and dear lord, when was the last time that face saw a razor? “Because that’s the heart and soul of contractual obligation.”

Bruce blinks at Tony’s pointedly guileless face before deciding that it’s not even worth the effort of counting to ten. He forces a smile. “It wouldn’t kill you to be slightly less of a jackass about everything.”

“That’s never been proven.”

He’s going through a rough time, Bruce thinks. He’s going through a rough time. He’s going through… “If not us,” says Bruce, “you know he’d at least tell Deadpool.”

Something metal gets thrown across the floor when Bruce isn’t looking; he jumps, presses a palm to his chest, sucks down the panic and swallows it away only through the aid of relentless practice. He stares at Tony in unbridled horror. He’s going through a very, very rough time, if he’s pulling stunts like that.

Tony gestures violently with one hand. “One, okay, I do not know that, and neither do you. We don’t even know when or, more to the point, why the kid left his place, but I will bet you an entire goddamn casino that Wilson did something shitty to drive him off. Guy’s the human personification of a fault line. Turns on a dime. Razes entire sections of the world at random. Doesn’t know pizza from roadkill and I’ve seen him go nuclear because he didn’t like the color scheme of one of the new-generation iPhone releases.”

“Meanwhile,” says Bruce, because he’s kind of in a mood now, “your response to being kidnapped was to spend the next few years building a personal army of weaponized armor and publicly claim ownership of world peace while daring known terrorists to come hurt your very few loved ones.”

For a moment Tony turns to ice, unmoving and brittle. Only for a moment. Then: “I am a model of mental health,” he says, breezing on. “Two, in the unlikely event everything is still sunshine and roses between spider-boy and Ol’ Hair Trigger, why in the name of sodium pentathol would Wilson tell us anything? I feel like his weird daddy-issues hero-worship thing he had for Cap kinda went belly-up. Because, again, turns on a dime.”

Bruce presses his thumb against a sudden sore spot on his forehead. “I can’t believe I’m about to defend Deadpool of all people, but it’s not like that was an unprovok—“

“Sure I mean, he might show up playing the I’ve Got A Secret game to try and squeeze a buck out of the deal, but he hasn’t, which most likely means he doesn’t know anything. But if you wanna track him down and interrogate him anyway, do me a solid and gimme a heads-up first because I’ve been meaning to test the new Hulkbuster armor.”

“Tony—“

“Three, and goddammit Brucie I hate to say this, I really do, but it gots to be said — maybe Spidey Krishna has been a long time coming and has nothing to do with anything. Not us, not nobody, not no how.”

“At the same time he’s been trying to track down the source of serial suicide bombers? Come on, Tony.”

“Coincidence. Fact is he’s no more emotionally stable than the rest of us at the best of times and god knows we’ve all flown off our own deep ends before. Typically, dare I say it, at the most inconvenient moment? Joining a cult is, like, the tamest of all possible outcomes, let’s be real.”

Bruce feels a dangerous burbling in his chest. Shuts his eyes for just as long as it takes to breathe in once, all the way, through the nose. Two fingers against his inner wrist. Pulse slows. “Claiming coincidence without investigation is just plain lazy,” says Bruce, with his eyes open.

Tony’s expression sours. “You’re paraphrasing. Badly.”

“Every effect has a cause. You either care enough to find out what that cause is, or you don’t.”

Tony narrows his eyes and hums in thought. “Wasn’t there something, somewhere, at some point, in some abrahamic religion, about the devil spinning scripture to his advantage?”

“Tony, I know you have a god complex, but comparing one of your pre-bandwagon rants to actual religious texts—“

“Pushing it?”

“A little, yeah.”

“Well, we were talking about cults, so. My mind was just in the gutter already, I guess.”

Bruce maintains a careful stoneface.

“Hm.” Tony flicks a blueberry in the air, catches it in his mouth on the way down. Again talks with his mouth full, which is sort of the Tony Stark equivalent of coughing and mumbling when you have to say something embarrassing. “Okay yes, my behavior before with the whole… y’know, kidnapping thing… was less than awesome and I was… less right than usual, okay? And now I just think we should leave him alone.”

“And I just think we should find a way to help him.”

“How, though? What’s he need?”

“I don’t know.”

“Because he’s not saying.”

Bruce raises his eyebrows, waiting for Tony to make his point.

“If he’s not saying anything then he’s probably not needing anything,” says Tony.

“Wow,” Bruce says. “I thought maybe you were just putting on a show so you could win the argument, but you really have pulled a U-ie.”

“Look, if you’re right, and this has nothing to do with spandex, and he really does want to be at Jonestown, then we’d be poking our way into his personal, poorly-guarded-secret-identity life and — aside from being just plain rude — probably fucking him up even worse in the long run, even if we did manage to get him to quit the club. And if I’m right, and he’s only there to work a job or… I dunno, whaddaya call it, a case? A mission? If he’s there to do Spider-Man stuff, then we’d be poking our way into that and probably fucking that up, which could get him killed. …I feel like this is overall just a no-pokey situation.”

“As if you never benefit from people sticking their noses in your business from time to time,” Bruce says, looking pointedly at the blueberry bag and Tony’s hand reaching into it.

“How dare you. JARVIS is not a ‘people’. He’s better than that.”

“I’m not saying we barge in guns blazing. But we should try to do something.”

“Great idea, and here’s another one: How ‘bout we don’t.”

“Enough don’t,” says Bruce. “We’ve been don’ting — or, you have been, rather — ever since—“

“JARVIS, music.”

“Which playlist, sir?”

“How ‘bout the GTFO party mix.”

Bruce isn’t sure how he immediately recognizes the opening of “Back Off, Bitch” by Guns N’ Roses — it’s very much not to his taste — but he does, and rolls his eyes.

It’s been over two months since both Spider-Man and reason fled Tony, and both have yet to come back. Been a little longer than that since Pepper left — physically left the Manhattan offices, since Tony refused to do so (the adult version of a child screaming get out of my room), and while Bruce sympathizes with her choices and with her need to be geographically removed from Tony, he more than sympathizes with Tony’s need for the anchor she provided.

These days Bruce can think of Betty without risking a news-breaking incident. If you’d asked him as a younger man whether a person could experience sadness so visceral that their body interprets it as a very real threat to life and limb, his answer would’ve been different, and uninformed. He still thinks “sadness” is a hell of a way to describe the existential anguish that is Betty’s absence from his life. Mostly, therefore, Bruce only thinks of Betty long enough to remember her name, and that they love each other — and that he has a good idea of what Tony’s going through with Pepper being gone.

And if Bruce can spend as much time with Tony as he does, then he must have some kind of nebulous, intuitive understanding of both how and why Spider-Man would spend time with Deadpool.

…And if Bruce is projecting onto both Tony and Spider-Man, he can’t help it. He’s not the most empathetic person, but sometimes empathy, like rage, is unstoppable.

Hmm.

He creeps up behind Tony — already back to “tinkering” and hellbent on ignoring him — and putting his hands on his knees, leans over. His mouth is an inch from Tony’s ear before Tony is even aware that Bruce is in his personal space.

“Mikey,” says Bruce, more than loud enough to be heard over the music.

Tony swats him with a backhand without looking. “I CAN’T HEAR YOU, BUT YOU GO RIGHT ON AHEAD AND KEEP TALKING.”

“His name’s Mikey!” says Bruce.

Tony throws down the screwdriver, waves vaguely for JARVIS to mute the music, and flops his hands on his knees. Sighs, heavily. “Don’t name it, you’ll just wanna keep it,” he says.

“He looks like a Mikey, too,” Bruce adds.

“Of course he does, he’s obviously an adorable babyface who was raised on wholesome cereal that’s a part of this complete breakfast. And overlooking the question of how the hell you found this out, why in the fuck would you tell me?”

Bruce shrugs. “He’s our friend.”

“Yes! He is! Our friend who loves his secret identity! And you know me, you know I’ll never be able to unlearn that. Why would you—” Tony squashes both hands to his face and takes a breath. “Look, I may be accidentally anathema to consistency, but I like to try anyway, okay? I’ve actually had to work very hard not to learn Spidey’s IRL bullshit. Do you understand how hard that is? Do you realize how much he sucks at the secret identity schtick, Gumby?”

“Gumby. Because he’s green. I get it.”

“Seriously. Why.”

Bruce shrugs. “To remind you that he’s human?”

“I know he’s human!”

“And that we all know you’re still very, very sorry about what happened, but running from your guilt by switching from extreme overprotectiveness to an extreme hands-off policy is probably not going to solve any problems.”

Tony narrows his eyes.

Bruce shifts his weight, settling back a little.

“Okay,” says Tony in a profoundly reasonable voice as he rises from the floor. His back pops, twice, when he stretches it. (His eyes bug a little, but he manages not to groan even though he clearly wants to.) “I’ll do some remote surveillance around the place and have JARVIS ping me if anything looks weird. I mean. Dangerous-weird, not creepy-weird. We’re already way past creepy-weird. So this way we’re doing something, but not sticking our hands in up to the elbow. Sounds like a pretty fair compromise to me. Coffee?”

It takes Bruce a couple seconds to realize he just won. “Great,” he says. “I mean, about the idea, not about the coffee. I know damn well that’s not decaf. …You shouldn’t have any, either,” he adds, reaching for the cold pot and holding it out of reach before Tony can touch it.

“Of course I should. I’m a busy adult with many important things to do. And cocaine’s still illegal.” He opens the minifridge, and Bruce closes it with his foot before a can of Monster can escape.

Tony fixes him with a look. “You’re cruel to me,” he announces.

“Mm-hm. How many hours since you slept?”

Tony pretends to consider the question, then gives up. “JARVIS?”

“Thirty-one hours, sir.”

“Thirty-one hours, Brucie Boy,” says Tony.

“C’mon,” Bruce says, reaching for Tony’s elbow. “You’re going to bed.”

“Nah! Nahahah nnno!” He curls away. “You’re gonna have to wash the hell out of your hands if you want to put them anywhere near me.”

“Tony, you’re standing there in a cloud of your own thirty-hour stink and I seriously doubt if you’ve changed your underwear since the weekend. Don’t talk to me about germs.”

Tony hisses.

Bruce makes a grab for him.

“Jesus, your hands are cold!”

“Come on.”

“I need an adult!”

“Tony—“

“I’m not tired.”

“Worse than a nine-year-old…”

“Ow! Did I say you could—“

“Would you just—“

“Okay! Let go, alright! Hands off, I’m going, I’m going.”

“Go to bed, Tony.”

“You’re not my real dad.”

Somewhere in the lava flow of his subconscious, Bruce can feel the Other Guy roll his eyes, at both of them.

Hey! If you like this scene, or if you like the fic in general, if it has added some kind of value to your life, and only if you are comfortable with it and can afford it, please consider tipping the author.

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[agentstegosaurus]

I'm veeeery happy with the amount of Taegi we've beeing getting but... The Fuck happened in that trip? They bonded I guess, like, them hanging out, matching chokers and all, now that cute vid... But like, how did it happened, I'm so confuse... Happy, but confuse. Cuz I always loved Taegi but was low-key sad by lack of content you know, but they seemed now closer I guess?

Omg brooo. This is what we all Taegi shippers Suffer from, you know? Between us Taegi shippers and Taegi themselves, there’s this sort of push-and-pull dynamic bc one moment we are blessed with YG leaning into TH. And another moment we get TH leaning into YG. And at the very next second, we get them standing so far apart lmao. Fast forward 50 yrs of Taegi deprivation, we get Taegi selcas. And then we don’t get Taegi selcas. OK but bfore I move on with this essay regarding the possibility of their degree of ‘closeness’, I want to show u dis: 

Like lol i think it’s pretty clear here that their relationship/moments off-cam are prolly a whole lot more greater than what they feed us. Bc hello look at TH writing down YG under the partner/love line which indicates that their interactions off-cam/back in their dorms are prolly good enough for TH to regard him in that way (plus, TH wrote it down himself: That during work, Yoongi is quite different compared to how he behaves at home). If you’ve seen how they interacted on-cam, you’d be totally surprised wouldnt you? I think it’s safe to say that there’s definitely more stuff going on off-cam winkwonk. (i.e., possibility of them owning matching printed couple pyjamas thanks to Sherlock ARMYs). 

(images in courtesy to peachissodaworld) http://www.peachisodaworld.com/2017/01/pann-170108-even-taehyung-wore-yoongis.html

Though this may be just how I see it, but to me, the reason why I ship them so much is bc of how subtle their moments are. Not sure how others feel about them but I find their interactions extremely intriguing. Like i.e., you know how people always mention that YG is cold towards TH? Lol nah I don’t think so? Bc come on, we all know that YG is a very private person in the first place. It’s just his personality. But if you’ve ever noticed it EVEr (like maybe squint extremely hard), YG does love getting Tae’s attention and you can see it clearly esp. when YG does anything remotely “loud” these days. Like pushing a Pokemon plushy into Tae’s arm, calling him cute, hitting his arm when Tae didnt look his way lolol. He’s more (how should i say this?) open lately? Like you’ve mentioned it yourself, we’re getting legit Taegi moments nowadays. What in tarnation. 

So here’s my theory *puts shipper tinfoil cap on and gives one to you too bcs its gonna get crazy*: What made YG shift (+why Taegi has lots but sparse moments these days) is maybe YG trying to warm up to Tae’s affections and therefore, reciprocate? iDEk tbh bc it’s a fluctuating thing (by this i’m referring to YG being friendly with Tae on and off-cam) and I srsly think that at some point, Tae maybe showered YG with lots and lots of attention but YG would remain neutral (u kno? gotta keep up that edgy hyung persona lol) so in return, Tae takes a step back? At some point, I think YG seems almost similar to how a person gets sulky when another person stops taking interest in them? No evidence for this tho. What made me think this hard enough to come up with a plot for a soap opera is solely bc of this moment: 

(151219 Bts @ Show Champion Backstage) 

JH: Do you have something to say to Suga hyung?

V: I wish that he could stop being uninterested/ indifferent.

((Do you see where I’m coming from?))

Which now leads us to the present: why we have lots of Taegi moments as of late (OT2 selca, Hawaii, V complimenting YG on vlive, butt groping in BTS RUN 12, matchy pyjamas, V’s hand all over YG during gayo when they were punished outside with Jin etc. etc).

Though, the thing about this Hawaii moment is that, I think it can go two ways:

1. Them walking around together is either for their show/vlive stuff (tho this doesnt quite explain their matching jewellery unless they did go off on their own with the camera to survey local shops together) (Then again, maybe everyone else in BTS has one too? we might never kno and this is what scares me a little lolol)

2. Taegi’s relationship is going somewhere (they maybe did go off on their own for fun. This could explain the matching necklaces(?)) 

3. (i said two but this is an extra thought bc i’m trash) They’ve always had moments. But off-cam. And them chilling at Hawaii is bc we’re just lucky we’ve got photos of it from whomever took the time to whip out their cameras when Taegi were together (bless their ARMY soul) CUE NINJA DATING!AU. 

4. They are ninja dating AND filming together bc it’s just so much more fun to do stuff with each other even if it’s on-cam 

So I can’t say for certain whether or not they’ve gotten closer bc to me, they were already pretty close (at least how I assume their relationship is)? I have more theories if i’m being honest here but that’ll make me write an entire complete saga for just this moment alone and that’ll make u feel tired to read haha. But to wrap this up, (according to my guts), there’s more to it than what meets the eye for Taegi. So dont lose hope my dear fellow ship mate. Either way, let’s always protect these awkward babies

(but heyyy, if they rlly did bond and gotten closer somehow with Hawaii, BAZINGA)

((This turned out to be so much longer than how I intended it to be i’msosorry anonymous. But I hope I answered your enquiry by providing you my two cents on this? ;-;

[sh-lan]

OMFG LAST QUARTER EVER + some spring break stuff???

Took a weekend off of life Retail therapy at its finest today Even though new jeans were overdue

It’s crazy how it still came I guess it’s a force of nature But omg it’s gonna be here on the concert T^T

This nerd would have mitsuha’s theme on his playlist smh #nochu

April 2nd, 2017 BTS Wings Tour I still can’t believe it happened I’ve been awake since 8am lol and it’s like 1:54am and i’m still trying to process and remember everything that happened today It felt like a dream! I can’t believe I saw them in real life. ohmygod Hands down, easily one of the best day of this week - if not this entire year so far holy shit will continue this tomorrow as i reminisce ok but one thing i noticed is that jungkook’s thighs are actually so real like wtf? shookt EDIT: lol i never finished this but oh well

oop i just bought more rings goodbye money

my charger broke gg time to get another one

I have a newfound appreciation for the color pink or more like my appreciation for pink is coming back

When you get anxious because bts hasnt posted on twitter for 3 days but then you also know they’re resting and that they deserve this break

SPRING QUARTER LEGGO tu/th schedule let’s hope this all works well keke

week 1 recap tuesday - sees everybody in freaking AB LOL sees harry after walking out of my tdpw sees alana and dylan outside my global health class which alana is also taking, and becca and tanya lOL goes to cogs 122 to find chen screaming my name - also vania and stella <3 last class is normal - with nobody in management BUT LOL LEIGHTON ADDED THE CLASS ON THURSDAY HAHA there’s also this girl in my tdpw class who looks like lindsay lohan and her name is also lindsey but with an e cause i saw it on the email lol not a stalker

Decided to gel nails it out friday of week 1 whut whut

First attempt at 양념치킨~

been using the soundtrack of your name this past week to get over pcd it’s been a week and i still haven’t recovered T^T

went to kbbq with harry! lol week 1 sunday started at manna….having an adventure in between at manna keke “started here and ending it here?” LOL

currently craving anything strawberry

don’t understand why i need to have my email as a send&receive in order to sms to work on my laptop bb why are you being stubborn when you’ve been working fine all this time

under yuri’s recommendation, i microwaved my coffee because it was lukewarm and she called me extra LOL

i’m getting nervous about a presentation when i shouldn’t be because ?? my AB service leader self is like completely gone i wanna crawl into a hole

i just finished season 2 and 3 of htgawm in less than a week… how they gonna do season 4 i wonder

Week 2 thursday I was actually really looking forward to class today Also my rings came! Though were they worth the $50….not so sure Were they cute? Yes But not as cute as the other one T^T So i mustnt give in to temptations nowww

I found out what matcha powder mom uses to make their matcha latte Cappuccine frappe mix But it’s sadly not on amazon ):

This new tumblr function is really inconvenient cause i cant tell how many thing i have on queue brcause i have to keep switching blogs -_-

Han came to visit! Friday Papa johns Saturday Snooze brunch Infinitea Abeh hangout In n out Sunday Aquarium! Koon thai Ramen yamadaya Boba bar and then i drove him to irvine where we got coco curry! and then i drove back and he bought me milk tea with pudding

Had an epiphany It’s not anenome It’s anemone

Omg but like why dont people call spoiler alerts “spoilerts”

Started 13 reasons why with Han Finished it, tuesday week 3 Hmmm How to feel

finished strong woman park hyung sik is so…adorable? IT’S SO WEIRD. HIS AEGYO LEVEL IS INSANE

When you realize that 둘! 셋! is probably the title of the fan song because that’s what BTS always say when they introduce themselves And that BTS + ARMY forever ㅠㅠㅠㅠ I’m not crying r u crying ;___;

어떻게

Omg when you wake up for reorientation and jungkook does lives <3

highkey need to crawl into a hole tbh

You know what i want to do? Go to an olive garden Even though i know it’ll taste bad lol

Not really sure what i want… But i dont want my 4 years to be a waste ):

i….skipped out on an interview today was it the right choice i may never know

most recent ep of snk got me fucked up SOMEONE TELL ME WHAT YMIR AND CHRISTA’S RELATIONSHIP IS WHO IS CHRISTA

Lol i hella bombed my quiz GOODBYE GONNA P/NP HAHA

Week 4 weekend Fuck me in the ass i twisted my ankle and i am in irvine had to pop an advil and cruise control all the way back thank god there weren’t many cars lol 0/10 do not recommend

Slept on the couch the past two days to elevate my ankle Glad to be back in bed But i think i might be a little…sick? Fuck Need to grocery shop

Dammit i got called for jury duty

Ok but i twisted my ankle and two recruiters emailed me back the next day so was it really a loss

Week 5 i’m sick…

just watched 5 centimeters per second a little sadder than i was an hour ago

fuck i forgot that my jeans are new and i washed it and my pink shirt is ruined fml triggered

thursday after rolling over ma ankle i can finally see that it is a lil swollen and there is bruising LOL also saw an owl at school today and a bunny while leaving to go to meeting

week 5 tuesday saw two bunnies on my way out to school

I just saw two hummingbirds! 😍

I cant believe yuri and i finished twenty SMH

ABCD today Some qualitee photos were taken Im tired now

Really debating the 4th term

third day of back pain flexibility dying wow what is happening???

…..army 4th term is $75 cries EDIT: it’s $66 because i forgot exchange rate but still cri EDIT EDIT: it’s $45 if i ship it to taiwan - seriously really highkey considering that now oh dear

bro i think i just experienced katawaredoki whut

i keep thinking that my ankle is ok but i always end up doing something that ends up hurting it like hella im

Week 6 thursday last leadership meeting one of my favorite meetings because whoa INFORMATION!? it was nice wanted to discuss and add in my two cents but i honestly just wasn’t able to wrap my head around everything loool then…we decided to go to PB LOL chen, jeong, yuri, justin and his friends (including nicole, nicole, sandy) and then more people. we also met leslie, brett, dexter, allison, kenny, peter, abby, ben…and more? at pb lolol and also we saw miguel and anthony - it was like a freshman year flashback tbh lOL went to vallartas after and then came home to shower and finally sleep at 3:30am wot is life NEXT DAY ADVENTURES - leighton and i finally pulled out the weeds and now we’re tired

salty that i wasnt invited to the birthday celebration, not that i would really make the trip per say but wtf gurl

I just had this really sad thought that i’m probably never gonna ever get to know bts like friends y i do dis to meself

Wait so like i got sick while at clew’s and it didnt happen until week 5 and so i was sick from week 5 through week 6 and at this one point i couldnt taste my food it was terribad

May 12th I bought the membership LOL Hopefully it mails it correctly back to Taiwan ☺️

im dumb i didn’t save the color i wanted for my hair

omg the song vania recommended to me a few days ago was recommended by jungkook like a year or so ago on twitter lOOOOL

Just tryna level up here :<

Struggles when places are in the east coast and phone calls are early in the fckin morning

Note to self: Ridge cut potato chips with sea salt is good for stuff with dip Ridge cut salt and pepper is good for regular eating, but gets salty at the bottom LOL EDIT: per vania’s suggestion, i salted and peppered my chips

watching jungkook’s vlive AND HE JUST HARMONIZED WITH HIMSELF IM DED

Just woke up from a dream where someone hurt my brother/nade him fall and i was so angry? Was about to go ape shit on that person im ded lol who is rhis angry me

Rewatched and finished reply 1997 Wow what is life when yoon jae is life But also what is life when your idols are life Daily reminder to not be as obsessed as shiwon LOLOL

i can’t go to giraffage and elephante anymore im on the otherhand i get to go to virginia???

lol but like i haven’t been writing drafts because i often write in my notebook now but here are some updates - my nails are constantly chipping - forgot about grad photos that clashed with the weekend han is coming - im ded because i probs won’t have a weekend to myself until week 10 - struggles to figure out graduation things - paid my $54 to walk #mostexpensivewalkever

LAST LEADERSHIP MEETING (turnover) what am i going to do with my thursday nights now? it’s been a good run

Jealous of the staff that holds and records the camera during vlives? LOL who am i

When you forget that jeon jungkook did taekwondo before Hnnnngh

i just reaffirmed? or discovered? that i don’t like fruity pebbles o_o

Trying to think of a thing to put on my grad cap Tis hard Let’s make a list: 花樣年華 Strong power thank you You never walk alone Ireumeun deborah LOL Lol omg but why is yoongi’s “cheater never win but i just graduated” quote so appropriate for grad EXTRA + ORDINARY* Lost my way/found my way* Click clack to the bang Smile with me, cry with me, fly with me (you make me begin, you made me again) Ctrl+c, ctrl+v do you know “____” (hci? annyeonghasaeyo) To lose your path, Is the way to find that path* 꽃길만 걷자* Let’s fly with our beautiful wings in 2017 EDIT: i’m too lazy, i didn’t do anything to my cap lOL

Im shookt cause namjoon doesnt say 이제 feelin the vibe. HE SAYS IF YOU FEELIN THE VIBE. I feel…betrayed

Non whitewashed bangtan gives me life

May 21st My first haircut since… Since i got it cut over the summer?????

Bought me stole and tassel today Smh that i cant grab my muir tickets?? Cause i ordered all commencwment tickets SMH

Lowkey afraid of not passing mgt LOL

Omfg i knew we were going to have a pop quiz. It really happened

nicole and evelyn commented that they liked my hair and audrey and malia agreed i gotta say i’m so glad people remember me in my tdpw class LOOL

Cant get the seventeen song outta my head Shookt by the choreography

Y'all im so fckin shookt First the chainsmokers post on twitter like “see you in the summer” Then they win the BBMAs like a boss Then you see them on halsey + steve aoki’s snapchat Next things you know steve aoki is postin shit like “BTS x AOKI COMING SOON” Im SCREAMING

Yo my lyft driver dropped some knowledge again and told me his life story lmao he was a police officer in chicago and he was forced to retired and then ?? after chasing down a rapist and getting into a fight, he was seriously injured. but his dad (a judge or someone powerful idk) forced him out of retirement by telling everyone to not give him his benefits and shit and i was like. whoa bro. slow down? “embrace the unknown”

I finally tried the coconut black tie at peet’s 10/10 a mistake

Okay but can we talk about how on point everybody looked in the comeback Esp wonwoo and dk But also vernon 👌🏼

First time in virginia/ being so close to washington dc! Whoa Also gonna pass by texas too :O Knocking some states off my list

I WITNESSED MY FIRST CIRCLE RAINBOW THINGY ON THE PLANE FROM VIRGINIA TO DALLAS TODAY HOLY IT WAS V COOL

i don’t know why i never realized this about myself before but i need to be/live by a body of water at all times or i won’t feel comfortable this is weird

i told han i joined the fanclub and he like died for like 2 seconds lOL

ok but like i bought a carton of eggs and 6 or 7 of them were double yolks and i have 2 more eggs left im starting to think i’m eating some weird hybrid chickens EDIT: those last two eggs were both double yolks. this was a wild adventure

omg i knew that the TA MOST LIKELY RYAN WOULDNT UNDERSTAND OUR IDEA JUST LIKE HOW HE ALWAYS MISINTERPRETS THEM??? like what kind of constructive feedback is that if he doesn’t understand what we’re trying to do im… sigh

Already excited about the festa But like omfg they released the schedule today And just WE DONT TALK ANYMORE PT 2?? SO FAR AWAY FEATURING JIN AND JUNGKOOK? Im IM SCREAMING also sad but the radio show is right before my finals gotta prioritize, no bts fo me ;__;

after waiting two weeks, my application to get leveled up was rejected *cries* time to try again! *^*

okay but really feeling seventeen’s song as well as suran’s song like hIGHKEY

i finally got my commencement tickets the third time that i went to the bookstore third time’s the charm right? also whytf is the parking pass for all campus commencement so huge -_-

hnngh omg that feel when you have hella shit to do TPDW1 final play due week 9 friday because we won’t have class at all on week 10 then there’s the presentation (elevator pitch) that happened today week 9 thursday but also just hauling ass on things for A5 tbh what is this what is everything wot is the meaning of life when vania and i stay up till 3:30am lol… and then there’s me. tired af but didn’t sleep til 4:30 anyways cause i’m a dumbass l e l let’s not be a potato this last week k?

burger king in pc has its own free wifi called WhopperWifi and it’s so much faster than school wifi this is revolutionary

week 9 weekend to irvine irritated on the way over irritated on the way back lol wot is life i should’ve just turned around to go back home

NO TDPW1 WEEK 10 WOOT wow that means i won’t have class until 2pm whoa

“why are you reading math formulas” - yuri i was actually reading bts profiles lOLOL she just dissed their handwritings

Just spent the past hour or so looking at kakao friends merchandise And discovering that apeach is a genetically modified peach lol

that moment when you ask for a png file but get a jpg

dyed my hurr twice today for a darker shade still not what i was going for but this will do for now

Omfg i slept through my alarm until 1pm Goodbye study time?? Also omg i like it pt 2 video SHIT SHIT SHIT THEY KNOW WE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS. HAD IT SINCE BAEPSAE DAYS. BUT DIDNT RELEASE IT. Freakin bighit

My request to level up on the fancafe has once again been rejected ); EDIT: oMFG IT’S BECAUSE I DIDN’T CHANGE THE SETTING TO SOMETHING im screaming, what a first world problem THIRD TIME’S THE CHARM AMIRITE

Doesnt feel like it… But thursday was my last time going to class…pretty much like ever unless i go to more school Holy shit

Oh man I didnt think i’d have THAT much shit. But…i think i have A LOT of shit….

saw bts MBIT and i was like omfg! knew that i was INFJ but took the test again yesterday and ended up INFP….but just barely P so i think i’ll stick with INFJ lol EDIT: i took the test again today because vania and yuri were talking about it again and i am still INFP…and more P this time. SO LOST. WHO AM I

put my things up for sale i forgot that i might need my light el oh el crying on the inside cause i want to keep my desk but then i’m selling it off because i don’t think i’ll have space for it and i just CRYING ON THE INSIDE BECAUSE IT’S BEEN WITH ME FOR SO LONG T^T

ON ANOTHER NOTE. THIRD TIME IS THE CHARM LEVELED UP ON JUNE 12TH AT ONE SOMETHING AM

JUNE 12TH FINISHED MY FIRST AND LAST FINAL I AM OFFICIALLY DONE WITH MY UNDERGRADUATE CAREER??? also lmao i spent 45 min on the final wot

i dyed my hair darker but now it’s become lighter? wait wtf wait no go back EDIT: wait no it went back to being dark? is this a thing? when i get exposed to the sun it gets lighter and when i sleep it gets darker??? smh at light for fckin with me

so i set an alarm to watch the bts home party last night for like 3:57am and i didn’t hear it but i guess i kinda did cause i woke up at 4:05am and was like ??? i decided to watch a bit of it but ended up streaming the whole thing until 5:45am looooool also watched the numbers grow from the 500,000 all the way to 2,000,000 and then 3,000,000? it was nuts

omfg all these years of rereading chapters and only now do i realize that i could save bookmarks on mangahere *slaps forehead*

Moment of silence cause i sold my desk that’s accompanied me for almost 10 years It even has battlescars (aka X marks by Jacky, 3 of them) LOL memories ;___; Oh and i guess my chair too

lol was gonna sell that yamaha guitar for $45 but it’s going for like $190 on ebay?? so ima just bring it home

finals week hangout list: tuesday: fud with kimberly, peyton, harry wednesday: more fud with stephanie and ellius thursday: KBBQ FOR LUNCH with jeong, justin, yuri, harry LOOOOL

and so...that’s the end of the quarter. my last quarter of school ever (unless i decide to go to more school...which seems unlikely as of right now) it feels weird.................................. but! onto graduation~ looking forward to being reunited with family and whatever’s gonna hit me in the face LOL

and with that goodbye undergrad, hello world ㅇㅅㅇ