#don’t apologize it’s so funny tumblr just refused to show me half of it

[kheprriverse]

150???? Omg lmaooo

This was all I could see XDDD

I have a perfect idea

-z

Man I wonder who reblogged my recent post 48+ times right after this ask /sarcasm

[kimnjss]

grand gesture | ksj

⤑  series: sugar free

⤑ genre: angst, rich!jin x artist!reader, college au.

⤑ rating: PG13

⤑ word count: 1.5K

⤑ warnings: there aren’t any, lmao.

⤑ A/N: this is a bit short, but it’s straight to the point and meant to be that way!! just felt like this part worked better written then told through text, so yeah you’ll see what i mean! let me know what you think x

A full week passed. A full week of ignored gifts being dumped on your front porch. You were seriously considering selling them, no desire to collect his half ass-ed apology. This was the exact reason why you were hesitant to get involved with him in the first place. He was exactly like how you thought he'd be.

Of course, he'd approach you on a bet. Of course, this would all be about money. It was all that kid cared about. The way he was flaunting it, trying to buy your forgiveness was proof enough. Did he not get it? Was he that dim?

The only thing that bothered you about this whole situation was the time you wasted hanging around him. All that time you could've used working on projects or perfecting your craft... spent and wasted with the hope of trying to get to know the guy. What a waste.

Despite the constant interruption of a knock at your front door, you had decided that you were going to use all this new free time to concentrate on your art. Summoning all the inspiration you could to create... something. It actually was harder than you thought, feeling unbelievably uninspired and a little bit sad.

From your friends, you had requested they didn't pop in whenever they wanted. Felt like you'd work better if you had a chance to be alone. What you didn't realize was that with all this alone time you really had a chance to evaluate your feelings... what you had been suppressing since that night out with Jin.

It had been obvious to the people around you, but you refused to listen. It was hard to ignore now. You were a bit sad, to be honest. It had been a while since you were able to let go and actually enjoy being around someone... romantically, and you hadn't expected it at first but you really were starting to like him.

Things were comfortable around him, he was funny in a nice way, cared a lot about keeping things light, and actually listened when you ranted about whatever was bugging you at the time. It had only been a few weeks spent with him, two dates in that time but you really enjoyed yourself.

A little bummed that it had to end this way. Couldn't help but wonder if you had overreacted, if you should have listened when he tried to text you about it. Stopped being so stubborn and forgave him like everyone had said that you should. Maybe then you wouldn't be this miserable, suffering from this horrible artist's block, you didn't even know if you were holding your paintbrush correctly.

The welcomed knock on your door had you standing a little too quickly, ready to ditch this blank canvas and see whatever had been sent your way. Nothing came in yesterday and you had assumed he got the hint... hoped he hadn't.

There's an arch in your brow at the lack of delivery man at your front door. With confusion written in your features, you're putting the front door open; eyes landing on a sad-looking Seokjin. He's dressed casually, opposite of the expensive tops and form-fitting jeans he usually put on. Pair of joggers and a plain t-shirt. The change was nice, made him look younger.

He shifted on his feet, hands behind his back eyes trained on his sneakers. You had to fight the smile that pushed it's way onto your lips, happy to see him standing in front of you – but quickly reminding yourself why he had to show up like this in the first place. Main priority was to be strong in this situation, figure out what he was doing here and deal with it. Not swoon and go all heart-eyed just because he showed up.

He should've shown up before all of this.

“What are you doing here? No ridiculously expensive coat to add to the donation pile?” Jin shifts at the sound of your voice, lifting his head to look up at you. He looks sad that you can't help but wonder if you're being a bit mean to him.

Although, him betting on your sex life was pretty mean in itself, right? Getting you to like him just to turn around and make you apart of some sick joke, that's mean.

“N-no, no gifts... they weren't working anyway,” He sighs, arm reaching up to rub at the back of his neck in the awkward way you notice he was always doing. Couldn't believe you had started to find the action cute.

“Yeah, sucks. You can't buy someone's forgiveness,” There's bite in your tone but he doesn't flinch, just looks down nodding his head. “Yeah, I deserve that. I shouldn't have treated this like some business transaction. I hurt you... I should've manned up and came to you.”

You're reading to rip into him again until his words are registering in your mind. Did he come here to... apologize? Eyes blinking as you stare at him, Jin takes your silence as a sign he should continue.

“Yn, I'm sorry. I hate that I fucked with you like that and even more that you're upset. I know you won't forgive me, I'm not expecting you to... I just figured I should at least say it, like for real, you know? We were having a good time together and I really like you, so I owe you at least a proper apology.”

There's a warmth that spreads throughout your body at hearing his words. Not sure if it was from the apology or the fact that he had just told you... to your face, that he liked you. What you had been wanting to hear this entire week was an explanation from him, not through text and not in the form of some designer shoes... like a real explanation. Could see yourself forgiving him if he gave you that.

“Why'd you do it?” Your voice is quieter than you remember as if you're afraid of the reason. Either way, you don't back down. Staring straight at him as if you're strong, waiting to hear what he has to say. “Because I liked you. And I know how stupid that sounds, but I was too chicken shit to do something about it... so I just used the bet as an excuse,”

Jin had said that you didn't have to forgive him, but that didn't stop the hopeful look in his eyes. Watching as you tossed his words around in your head, waiting for that smile of yours to appear as you told him that it was all okay. That you forgave him and if he promised he never did something stupid like this again, you two could go back to falling for each other as you had been before.

It didn't come. Instead, you were just nodding, taking a step back into your house. “Alright, well... thanks for coming here and apologizing.”

“So that's it?” The words are falling from his lips before he has a chance to stop them. Not realizing how expectant they sound, how he had promised himself he wouldn't act that way at this moment because he knew you hated it. “I mean... were you thinking we could, maybe, try again?” You can hear the hope in his voice and you don't miss it.

Did you want to try again? Let him in all over again as he attempted to break down your walls, he had done a pretty good job at it before. Were you ready for all that? All that came with being with him... like actually being with him. Before it had been different, you weren't sure of your feelings then, but now, you knew that you'd want more from him. An actual relationship. Would he even be able to do that?

“Was that what you were hoping for? Why you came by to apologize?” He's shaking his head before the words can fully leave your mouth.

“No, I came here because you deserved a proper apology because I was sick of being a coward about all of this. I want to be with you because... well because you're amazing and I don't want to miss out on that,” He's offering a small smile up to you, one you're returning almost instantly.

Still, there's something holding you back, but you're unable to place it. Needed to figure out what it was before you were leaping into a relationship with the guy. “Could I...? Could I think about it?”

“Yes, yeah!” The smile on his lips grows as he steps off of your porch, mission accomplished. “Take all the time you need to think about it... you can call me when you decide? My numbers the same!” You can't help but laugh at his quick shift of demeanor, the way he basically runs down your driveway before you can change your mind.

You stand and watch the entire time he jogs down the street until he's ducking into his car, and speeding off with a wave out the window. A hand lifts to wave back, heart thudding in your chest as you stepped back into your house. About to give this situation some serious thought... were you really going to be able to handle being with Kim Seokjin?

– rich, spoiled and a bit of a womanizer. but underneath all of that, there’s a heart of gold. and no matter how determined she is to reject him, he won’t stop trying until she sees he’s kinda sweet.

↲ masterlist ↳

taglist: @randomkoalablog​​​ @smoljams​​​ @dee-ehn​​​ @jaiuneamesolitaiire​​​ @lilacdreams-00​​​ @sw33tnight​​​ @bangtansonyeondayyyum​​​ @okblve​​​ @jinhitwhore​​​ @tae165​​​ @hellotherehoneybee​​​ @bangtansbun​​​ @betysotelo18​​​ @cherriigguk​​​ @koostime​​​ @kooinluv​​​ @butterflylion​​​ @kookiesjoonies​​​ @uxwi​​​ @honeyoongles​​​ @imajiningseokjin​​​ @amoreguk​​​ @beeeb05​​​ @tommasauras​​​ @bluefaeriefury​​​ @butterflylion​​​ @withlovestudyblr​​​ @samros95​​​ @korkanswers​​​ @houseofarmanto​​​ @soulstaes​​​ @thesunisup-theskyisblue​​​ @jinsearth​​​ @aizuwusho​​​ @moonb0yy​​ @tan-dulset​​ @8sjaf​​​ @mini-coop25​​​ @marifujioka​​​ @sunskook​​​ @elliemeetsevil​​ @ratking101​​ @leovaldezisfire​​​ @greyaceupyoursleeve​​ @emmy17jane​​

A/N: timestamps are important throughout the fic!! if you want to be added to the taglist, send me an ask! also if you asked to be on the taglist and aren’t on there, it’s because tumblr sometimes doesn’t let me tag ppl for some reason.

[kai-keda]

Cowards Die Many Times | DreamSMP Fanfic

Wow okay so I literally JUST made a post flat-out making fun of myself for writing this but in the tags I made a comment of “Should I post this?” and wow three people already reblogged with comments expressing I share.

So, you can thank (or blame lol) @thesmpisonfire @tommyistheprotagofthesmp and @ak3m0n for this being posted here at all. Depending on what the response to this is on here, I may or not post it on a03 and, again, depending on the response, I may or may not make this a sort of collection of one-shots detailing different death scenes and how the characters felt in those moments.

A/N:

THIS IS NOT ABOUT THE REAL LIFE STREAMERS!

I view the DreamSMP storyline as a sort of Dungeons and Dragons game with no real DM. Just players running around a world that they create as they go along and cause whatever chaotic instances and plot points they can manage. As such, while I write this and as you read this I want you to remember - burn into your brain - that this story isn’t about the real Minecraft streamers. They aren’t even streamers in this fic, they are fictional characters living in a made-up fictional world. I get that the line is blurred due to the nature of the videos this is based on, but I view it as being sort of like how when you write a character like Spiderman, you’re writing Spiderman, not Tobey Maquire.

All that being said, I really wanted to just write this concept of how death and respawn works with Tubbo from a certain festival event but as it turns out, he is very uncomfortable with the concept of fanfiction written about him. (Thank you SMP-boundaries for your God sent Tumblr) As such, even though I don’t see it as me writing literally him as I’m sure he’s seen plenty of, I won’t include anything from his perspective and try to limit any sort of mention of him. (I can’t bring myself to surgically remove him entirely. That would just be impossible because of how much of a part he plays both in what visibly happens and in Tommy’s development) ALSO PLEASE do not go out of your way and tag or try to show any of the Minecraft streamers/youtubers involved in this (not that y’all would lol). I happen to know that Tommy especially doesn’t want to see them even if he’s okay with them existing.

This was also meant to be a sort of collection of ficlets in one chapter. It was going to include more than this one scene and even include a POV from Wilbur but, uh, wow I got really carried away heh

SO YEAH! Now we got the important bits out of the way, please enjoy~

Cowards Die Many Times

“Do I shoot him Wil, or do I aim for the skies?” It was a heavy question. So heavy he couldn’t bring himself to raise his head. As they stood together and allowed the light reflecting off the water shine on them in a subtle way, Tommy considered his options. The answer should have been obvious. After all, this was war and this duel was their ticket to end it all and free themselves from their previous leader. The one Wil and he had labeled as a tyrant.

Dream.

“Tommy I -” A pause. Tommy looked up at his general. The only man he would ever take orders from. Wilbur Soot. He could see in his eyes that he had messed up. This was a burden Tommy couldn’t handle anymore. The deafening silence lasted for all of two seconds but it felt like eternity. He would never know for sure what Wilbur thought of his outburst and challenge towards their worst enemy, but the answer he received relaxed him. If only for a bit.

“I want you to do whatever your heart tells you.”

Tommy took a deep breath and relaxed it before turning around and going towards the man who hid behind a mask.

“Coward.” He whispered to himself. When he thought the word, he believed it was for Dream but now that he felt it leave his mouth and heard the shake of his voice, he wasn’t sure if it was for himself or not.

He walked to the center of the wooden path and held his bow tight. The tyrant, with his bright green hoodie that seemed to act as a target and challenge, laughed with his friends. With George and Sapnap. As if he felt this was all a game and after he won it would all be over with him holding more than bragging rights. The worst of the scene was that even Eret - the traitor - joined in their fun.

With such thoughts running through his mind, it’s no wonder the decision Tommy came to.

They needed their independence.

And Tommy had the perfect opportunity.

He knew what death felt like. He had nearly grown used to it. Maybe that’s why he was always so quick to start fights, skirmishes and even join wars. That was probably why he felt no regret with this decision to challenge the immediate area’s strongest member.

But if he was so used to death, then why did he shake so much?

Dream finally left his friends behind to watch as he walked towards Tommy. The younger of the two swallowed his nerves and did his best to glare. The smiling mask stared him down. Was Dream glaring under there? Was he shaking within the loosely fit hoodie? Was he…

“Are you taking this seriously at all, Dream?”

“Oh, I don’t know. This seems pretty easy.”

Oh yeah, Tommy was killing him for sure. To hell with any sort of ‘honor’ that supposedly came with throwing away ones shot in a duel, Dream was officially a dead man.

“Remember, Tommy,” Dream stated with his usual calmness, “when I win, you give me the disk, Mellohi, and you all give up this silly tantrum for good.”

Tommy glared even harder as now he was angrier than ever. Dream was always after his music disks, his most prized possessions in this God forsaken land. Betting one of them was worth it if it meant seizing total and complete independence forever for this wonderful vision Wilbur had shared with him.

He thought briefly about the disks. About why they were so treasured by Dream and himself.

For Dream they were merely bargaining tools. Something he could use to keep Tommy under control and stop him from starting anymore fights with anymore members under Dreams thumb. The deal would be that if Tommy got involved in any sort of ‘griefing’ of any kind, Dream would burn the disks. Though, to be completely fair and honest, all of that had started with Sapnap burning an unrelated member's home and then dragging both of the now dueling men into the fight.

But for Tommy? These disks were everything. There was something nostalgic about the sound of music, as though there was something he had long forgotten from a time far behind him. It was incredibly rare where they lived to find such things and Tommy, Tommy had two of them. Each a different mixture of sounds that brought their own unique textures to his mind.

He was not about to throw away his shot.

A whisper entered his mind and he did his best to not give away who it was from. For someone to use this ability, one that made themselves freeze in place and become vulnerable, especially at a time like this, it was important. So he simply continued to glare at Dream.

‘There’s no turning back now, Tommy. Good luck out there. My right hand man.’

Tommy took a deep breath before yelling out as loud as he could. “LET’S FUCKING GOOOOOOOO!”

At the sound of yelling, Dream, Sapnap, George, Eret and even Tubbo - the only other member as young as the loud blonde child and one of their allies - all laughed. But the rest of his side? His makeshift army? They starred with an apathetic energy Tommy wasn’t sure what to feel about. All looked as though they had given up on this hopeless revolution. The humanoid fox and supposed child of the general, (it was unclear how serious he was of such a claim as it was never confirmed) Fundy, even went so far as to let out a sigh and shake his head.

He never was one to find such outbursts funny. It was as though he felt that Tommy treated this all as a simple game with no consequences. Yeah, he hadn’t experienced death nearly as many times as Tommy had, so maybe he did think more of it. 

Wilbur, however, was hardly monotone in his expression and voice. As he spoke his next line, he looked directly at Tommy for only a brief second with worry and, more importantly, sadness. Wilbur had also already given up but as Tommy thought over that look, he realized that Wilbur, the one who was always looking after him as though he were an older brother charged with watching over the youngest child, was apologizing for dragging him into this. For supposedly making Tommy experience the worst possible torture this crazy world had to offer over and over.

Death.

“Are both parties ready?” Wilbur had questioned. After that one look, he refused to even so much as glance at Tommy. The younger one understood. Wil could never help getting emotional in times like these, after all.

Tommy turned to look at his opponent and the damn man was putting on a show of yawning, hardly looking prepared. He really was that confident.

Tommy pointed an accusatory finger at the one who seemed to like to smile a bit too much and yelled out “Are you ready to experience death, Dream?! Cause I’m ready to cause it for you!”

Dream shrugged and stood straight, bow in hand at his side. “Let’s hurry and get this started.”

Wilbur, still not looking at Tommy and, more surprisingly, not saying anything about his outburst of a response, stated the rules of the duel.

Turn their backs to each other, count ten paces - no more, no less - and then fire on your opponent at will. The first to die wins the duel and the agreement.

Either Tommy loses one-half of his most prized possessions, or he gains independence for their nation.

The count began. Tommy thought about what it would be like to kill Dream like this. No tricks, no silly traps and no real plans from either of them. Just a single arrow making contact and he would be dead. It was almost unreal. He would be a hero and would be considered a total badass. Maybe everyone, both enemy and friend, would finally respect him.

The count hit four. His thoughts turned away from such happy fantasies. What if Dream wanted revenge? He never took losing very well. Rather, he took it harshly, and the Lord only knew what George would do to them in unofficial retaliation. Dream would probably lightly suggest George return the favor to Tommy in a whisper and then claim to wash his hands of the incident. Just for the satisfaction of showing power while keeping whatever peace they decide upon after all this.

The count hit seven. Tommy centered himself. Maybe it was a bad idea to allow himself to daydream at this time. He probably should’ve been scanning and studying the terrain thoroughly and thinking of how to use it to his advantage and of how the other could use it against him. Think of a plan or at least a vague idea of the literal millions if not infinite possibilities.

Like hell.

Tommy always thought of plans only when he was backed into a corner and even then he was well into a battle.

Dream was the one to come up with every possible outcome and choose one of nine where he won. Tommy refused to be like Dream.

The count hit ten.

Tommy turned quickly and fired. His arrow went off and almost hit Sapnap, someone who was once an ally, if only temporarily, in his and Dream’s initial war. Way further off his target than the young man was willing to accept.

There was no time to think and sit in denial of being such a terrible shot. No time to listen to Dreams lackies yell at him to be a better aim or watch Tubbo cover his eyes while Fundy simply shrugged as though expecting it. Dream’s first arrow went by his ear so fast he almost felt as though it could deafen him and the older of the two was already aiming his second shot while Tommy was stuck in disbelief.

Tommy quickly moved and jumped to avoid the arrow that he knew would hit him if he didn’t but instead of landing on the wooden path, he crashed into the water. The very lake - or was it a pond? - that served to decorate the land and create a nice scenic area to sit and enjoy time with friends around. Tommy had forgotten all about it just as everyone had probably predicted.

Just as Dream had predicted.

As no arrows came, Tommy figured that Dream was waiting for him to surface so he took the time to ponder on his decisions.

After all, there was no doubt they were coming to bite him in the ass. There was no chance of him getting out of the water and not getting shot to death by a single arrow from his worst enemy.

This was it.

He was going to die again.

How much would it hurt this time? How long would he be stuck in an area of nothingness as whatever God that created them formed a new body? Would he be able to see his friends, to see Wilbur, as they are forced to give away any hope of a special place they could call their own?

Would it be slow and torturous as his body reels from the pain or would it be instant and clean? He had no way of knowing any of these things. He had no way of knowing what this death would feel like as, in his experience, there was no rhyme or reason to any of it.

What would one day only sting for a bit as he was instantly brought back to life, would cause him to spasm and feel his heart stop and his lungs give up their air for what felt like hours. In that one case that comes to mind, to add insult to injury, he would be trapped in that plain area that was completely absent of light and life with no way to contact anyone he loved (or hated).

They all knew this.

They all agreed that the fear of what would happen as you see the attacks coming and you feel yourself growing weaker could only sometimes be worse than the experience itself.

Tommy felt torn by everything in a single moment. If they all knew this, then why did they fight in this war to begin with? Was it worth these moments of pure fear and terrible agony?

Whenever he would die he would return as though nothing ever happened despite his true thoughts and experience. He was not one to talk about things like ‘feelings’ or ‘emotions’. That was something for women and only women. No matter how much Wilbur would try to encourage him to be more open like Tubbo, Tommy was a man. And he was always fighting to prove it.

Yes.

He may be positive he’ll lose. He may be certain there is no chance of winning this duel, but Tommy made a decision in that moment as he swam to the other side of the path.

He was going to die but he’d be damned if he let himself be the cause of Wilbur’s hopes in the form of their very own L’Manberg crashing down forever and for good.

First, he had to make it look good so no one else would suspect what he had hiding in the deepest part of his mind. An actual plan.

He jumped from the lake and pointed his arrow directly at the mask and right between the eyes but before he could fire, he was hit.

Ah. This one was going to hurt.

[kaemulti]

(this is for the like five people who liked my post about me writing this 😤✊🏾and i have an AO3 account but i don’t want my kpop fan life and my non kpop fan life to clash right now so hopefully i can post the chapters for this fic here. i hope i’m doing this right, i literally got tumblr like a month or two ago so pls be nice 💀💀)

DEADLY DANCE:

—————————-

Story Summary: Korra Kuruk is an eighteen year old agent of The Air Temple Agency that has been tasked with bringing a rival company’s top teen agent to justice for her crimes. Korra, code name Water Tribe, must figure out what the true identity of the elusive Metal Bender is and what heinous acts her villainous agency is currently planning. How will Korra handle finding out her target is the one person she least expected and what will she do when that same person needs saving?

Deadly Dance : Chapter One : Little Miss Perfect

Kuvira shut her eyes tightly, taking a deep breath through her nose until it filled every inch of her lungs. She slowly let it out once she couldn’t take in any more oxygen and opened her eyes with new determination, deep breath centering her thoughts and calming any nerves that might be lingering. She could feel the whole room’s eyes on her, whole class practically on the edge of their seats as they watched her prepare for the final part of the combination. Kuvira smirked, an evil, sly smirk that would have easily given away her true personality if any of her peers were actually that observant. Fortunately, they were all far to enthralled with her movement, eyes widening as she extended her arms and raised her head. A beat, and she was off, turning and waltzing like she was floating through the air as the music rose in volume. She could feel the sweat running down the sides if her face, causing her skin to itch, but she couldn’t care less, she was electric right now, practically on fire as she completed all the steps without a hitch. Her face never broke from the innocent and vulnerable look of the character she was playing. Her limbs were long and free, passion practically seeping from every pore as the combination came to a close. She ended the fouetté sequence flawlessly, face refusing to show how increasingly uncomfortable her pointe shoes became pain an afterthought to the captivating performance she was seconds away from nailing. With one last turn, she took her ending position, chest slowly rising and falling as the music faded away to silence.

“Absolutely fantastic as always, Kuvira! Everyone please give her a round of applause.” The teacher said enthusiastically, smile wide as she praised her best student.

Kuvira smiled softly as she bowed for the applause from the class. The praise was cut short as the third period bell had rang, meaning they had spent their five minute time period for changing back into their normal clothes watching Kuvira complete the combination.

“Oh, spirits! That’s the bell, sorry I kept you everyone! Hurry and change, those of you headed to lunch should be fine but I’ll write slips for anyone who is going to a class period! Hurry, hurry! Great work today!” The teacher said as her students scrambled around the room.

Kuvira quickly dropped to the floor, hastily taking off her pointe shoes and shoving them into her dance bag. She jogged to the dressing room and begun to change, ripping off her constricting tights and deciding to exchange her bra for her leotard to save time. She finished pulling her skirt on and adjusted her turtle neck, haphazardly slipping on her sneakers as she rushed out of the door.

Luckily for her, the lunch room was only a couple doors down, unluckily for her however, she didn’t pack a lunch and waiting in the line is known to take half of their lunch period. She pushed passed some students in the hallway, raising the tone of her voice to give half hearted apologies as she did so, not that they knew that of course. When she finally made it to the lunch room she scanned the area for the table with her friends, smiling once she caught sight of them.

Being at this school was her least favorite thing ever so the fact she had actually found a couple people that cared enough to talk to her had been a blessing.

“Nice job today, Kuvira!”

“You totally owned that combo! I wish I could dance like that!”

“You should be proud of yourself.”

The praises weren’t new to her so Kuvira simply offered a smile and a couple thank you’s as she reached the table.

“Well if it isn’t the swan princess herself.” Wing teased as she sat down.

“Haha, very funny, Wing. I told you not to call me that when we’re not in practice, especially because we aren’t even doing that ballet this year.” Kuvira said light heartedly as she pulled out her makeup compact.

“My apologies, Great Uniter.” He said with a bow and smirk. The Avatar ballet had been widely requested by everyone in the dance department and Kuvira was beyond happy when she got picked to play the avatar’s ultimate rival, The Great Uniter.

“How was class?” Baatar asked shyly, barely making eye contact with her as he did so.

“It was fine, my feet are killing me but ballet is my second favorite dance class so I don’t mind.” She replied sweetly as she put on her eyeliner.

“I’ll never understand how you can do that so flawlessly, are you just perfect or something?” Wei asked as he practically inhaled one of his spring rolls.

“I wouldn’t say “perfect”, just skilled.” She lied, adding a sharp tail to the liner. She was playing a character right now and, sadly, acting cocky wasn’t in the script.

“I just don’t get how she got here so fast!” Korra panted, placing her backpack on the floor as she slumped on the table. She had gotten lost in the sea of people all trying to get to lunch on time from dance and had to race to avoid the hall monitor.

“Maybe you’re slower than you thought.” Mako joked, offering her part of his sandwich like he always does. He loved Korra to death but that girl was so frantic she basically forgot her lunch three times a week.

“Must you bully me after I almost got trampled in the hallway, again?! I’m hurting.” She pouted, taking her half of the sandwich from him and eating most of it in one go.

“Maybe if you actually started telling Mrs. Xiao when you have five minutes left of class you’d be here on time.” Asami smirked, not even looking up from her chemistry homework to tease the panting girl.

“I would have but she was too busy watching Kuvira prance around the room.” Korra said with her mouth full, rolling her eyes as she thought of the older dancer flawlessly completing that day’s combination.

“I’ll never understand why she gets under your skin so bad, Kor, she’s literally an angel. Honestly, I don’t even think she’d hurt a fly if she had the chance. Besides, you guys are rivals in the ballet, not real life.” Bolin said, blowing on his noodles to cool them down before sucking them up violently.

“And I don’t see why you don’t, just look at her! Being the center of attention every chance she gets.” Korra pouted, gesturing to the girl doing her makeup in her small hand held mirror a couple tables down.

“Are you gonna leave your hair like that the whole day?” Huan asked Kuvira, face contouring to a grimace.

“Shoot, (spirits, she wishes she could’ve cursed) I didnt even notice, thanks, Huan.” She said, placing the compact down so she could dig through her bag for a brush. She always forgot to take her hair out of her ballet bun and Huan, being the guy who was absolutely incapable of staying out of other people’s fashion choices, never let her forget. Kuvira still remembers how she had to force a smile and act like she didn’t want to bust his jaw that one time he said she looked like a snob when her hair was up.

He was right of course, but it still annoyed her.

Kuvira pulled out the brush she was looking for and set it on the table as she started removing the bobby pins from her hair. She smiled a bit to herself as she got the last one out, her favorite part was next, letting her hair down as she felt everyone watch.

She let the bun unravel as she gracefully shook her head, long, dark waves cascading down her back, almost reaching her butt. Honestly, she needed a trim, she’d have to remind Unalaq to make time in her schedule to get one.

Kuvira picked up the brush and ran it through her hair just enough to make it look neat but not enough to brush out the waves. She could feel several eyes on her, both male and female, as she did so. Kuvira wasn’t oblivious, despite how she acted as her character, she knew she was way above average in looks and she liked the eyes on her, craved them even. She opened her eyes and smiled as she caught Baatar looking at her.

Kuvira liked catching him watching her the most because she knew he’d never have a chance with her, no matter how much he wanted one.

“Looks like the line is shorter now, I’m gonna go grab lunch.” She said sweetly, quickly whipping her head around to eye how many people were still waiting in the line. She was fast enough to identify ten sets, five more than last time, of eyes on her before they frantically looked away as she searched for eye contact. She stood up and flipped her hair, strutting to the lunch line with an innocent smile.

“Ok, but it’s not her fault she’s gorgeous, Korra, that’s hardly a reason to hate her.” Bolin said, back at their table, pulling Korra out of her daze as she watched the older girl strut to the lunch line.

“I never said I hated her, she just...bugs me...” Korra replied, crossing her arms with a huff. Ever since the first day Kuvira had transferred to their school something about her seemed too good to be true, leaving a nasty taste in Korra’s mouth when interacting with the older girl.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you have a crush on her, Kor.” Asami said, finally looking up from her, now finished, homework to quirk her brow at the pouty girl.

“Wha-no. No! I do not have a crush on little miss perfect, sprits!” Korra said, annoyance clear in her voice as she furrowed her brow at her friend’s accusatory tone.

“Whatever you say, you should really just ask her to the formal in two months.” Mako said before he drank from his water bottle.

“I will not! I don’t even like her like that. Tui and La you guys are impossible!” Korra said, standing up from her seat and heading to the lunch line—because she was hungry! Not so she could stand next to Kuvira, she had more dignity than that thank you very much.

“Hey, Kuvira! How are you today?” Ms. Li, one of the lunch ladies said sweetly.

“I am great, Yuyan, thank you for asking. How about yourself?” Kuvira replied politely. That was one thing Unalaq could never shake from her, her manners for people less fortunate than she was. She had spent a lot of time talking to the school staff when she first got this assignment, she would tell her bosses it’s so she could find her target quicker but that was all a lie. To most, she might be considered to be on the wrong side of history, even if she thought that was nonsense, but that didn’t mean she was soulless. She only wanted the best for these people, why would she be cold if she didn’t have to be?

“Well, I could be better, these kids really don’t know how to say a simple please and thank you. It, um, it gets to you sometimes, you know? But, hey, I guess it could always be worse. Thank you so much for ask—Oh! That reminds me, me and a couple of the other lunch ladies made this for you, since you are such a big help around here.” Ms. Li said, reaching behind her to grab a small chocolate cupcake before handing it to Kuvira.

“Thank you so much, it looks delicious.” Kuvira said, accepting the sweet treat and placing it on her tray with the rest of her food.

“Of course! Anything for our favorite student. Congratulations on getting the part of The Great Uniter by the way, we look forward to seeing you shine!” Ms. Li smiled.

Kuvira smiled brightly as she punched in her lunch number, swiping her school card quickly. She appreciated the praise and she new she deserved it, but too much of it could make her uncomfortable. She said one more thank you to Ms. Li and headed back to her table.

As she was walking however, she almost ran right into someone who was clearly not watching where they were going. If she had been anyone else, her tray would’ve went flying, along with the items on it, and there’d be a huge mess, luckily she wasn’t anyone else. She was Kuvira, member of the Metal clan, the most highly trained spy organization in the world, and she’d be damned if she let her special cupcake get squashed. She easily spun around the person, gracefully hoping one of the railings to catch her airborne tray, every single item she had purchased returning to their places. Well, all except her juice box, which was still airborne, about to land on the ground behind her. She whipped her head back around and made a move to catch it but instead saw her onstage rival, The Avatar, played by Korra Kuruk, hopping the same railing to catch the juice box before it hit the ground, her own lunch items fully intact on her own tray despite the vigorous movement.

“I am so sorry about that! Here, wouldn’t want you to lose this.” Korra said apologetically as she held out the juice box to a wide eyed Kuvira.

As soon as they made eye contact Korra seemed to have picked up on what had actually happened, her own eyes going wide as Kuvira snatched the juice box from her hands.

Before either of them could say anything, the pieces finally falling into place and their initial shock quickly flipping to furry, the fire alarm went off, blaring loudly in everyone’s ears and causing several people, excluding Korra and Kuvira of course, to flinch in their seats. They had been trained better than to get startled by a sudden noise.

“Ok, ok, everyone please grab your phones, and I mean only your phones, and exit the building!” One of the lunch monitors said, ushering kids out of the back entrance so they could head to the field.

Both girls glared at each other, breath heavy in a rage as they did so, before going their separate ways to their respective tables. Kuvira grabbed her phone and followed Baatar out of the lunch room, not bothering to look back at Korra. Nobody at her table asked questions, not having been paying attention to Kuvira when she left the table.

Korra however, returned to a table full of wide eyes and slacked jaws, her friends having watched the whole ordeal after Korra bailed at the mention of a crush.

“That was some ninja shit, Korra! Wh- How- When! When did you even learn how to do that?!” Wu asked, most likely coming off of his hall monitor shift to eat lunch with them moments before the alarm sounded.

“Movies. Come on, we need to get outside.” She said, anger clouding her eyes and lowering her voice. Nobody asked any more questions and, even if they wanted to, Korra was already walking away, one foot out of the door

One thing’s for sure, Korra now had more reason than ever to hate Kuvira.

Kuvira was undoubtably the Metal Clan Protegé that Korra was tasked with arresting for crimes against the environment and the less fortunate.

[lady-divine-writes]

Serendipity (Rated PG13)

Summary: Aziraphale’s best friend Tracy sets him up on a blind date, but the man who shows up isn’t what he expects. (4351 words)

Notes: Written for the @ineffable-valentines prompt ‘perfect date’ and inspired by a post I saw @miraworos reblog on tumblr, which happened to be the exact premise of a story I had written a long time ago for another fandom. So I brushed it off, re-sculpted it, and voila. I hope y'all like it

Read on AO3.

“So … how’re the crepes treating you? Are they everything you dreamed they’d be?”

“Oh my yes! They’re absolute Heaven!”

“They should be. This place is famous for them.”

“Good, because they’re my favorite.”

“I know. That’s why I brought you here. More wine?”

“That depends … are you trying to get me drunk?” Playful blue eyes, twinkling above cheeks darkening from baby pink to dusty rose, meet seductive liquid gold.

Lush lips split into a devilish grin. “Maybe.”

Those blue eyes dip down to those inviting lips and linger there, lost in a daydream of mouths meeting, tongues sweeping, kisses traveling, caressing pale skin … “Well, at least you’re honest about it.”

Wine pours. Glasses clink and the robust red sipped. Fingers snap, and like magic, another bottle of wine appears.

“Now,” the devilish lips ask, “where was I?”

“You heard something in your walls?”

“Oh yes. For days I’m hearing scritch-scritch-scritch, and the pattering of tiny feet on my marble floors morning and night, like little ghosts wearing tap shoes puttering about my flat.”

“Ooo! That’s spooky!”

Subtle shrug. “Don’t bother me. I like spooky. Big spooky fan me. So I look and look. but I can’t find where it’s coming from. And I mean, I look everywhere …”

Aziraphale covers his mouth and giggles, blown away by how drawn in he’s become to this story. Reuben is such a dynamic storyteller. Aziraphale feels like he’s there with him, searching his house for the mysterious scratching that’s plagued him day and night, shivers as his description of them runs its nails delightfully up his spine. For good or bad, Aziraphale is invested now, even though the events of this tale are over and resolved. Reuben pauses his story; chuckles shyly, too; while Aziraphale waits patiently to hear the rest of the saga.

“To make a long story short, I take apart the entire wall unit, and finally I find the culprit – the cutest family of white rats I have ever seen! Momma had made a nest in the insulation and had babies! Five of them! I couldn’t believe it!”

“Oh no!” The tips of a mouth turn down as those shivers make a return trip. “I don’t personally fancy rats. What did you do?”

“The only thing I could do.” Reuben takes a sip of his wine – a 2014 Bogle Petite Sirah. It sounded so scrummy when Reuben ordered it, Aziraphale couldn’t help himself. He had to have a glass, too. And Reuben was not wrong. Its dense blueberry and blackberry flavors compliment the crepes exquisitely. The alcohol doesn’t overwhelm the palette, but it’s racy enough to bring color to Aziraphale’s cheeks. “I adopted her. Named her Rogue.”

“You adopted wild rats!?”

“Turns out - not wild. After a little investigating, I found out that momma rat had belonged to a neighbor who moved out a week ago. They couldn’t bring the rat with them, or they didn’t want to, so they set her loose in the garden downstairs. She ended up getting back in somehow.” Reuben runs his index finger around the rim of his glass. “It may sound bonkers but I admire Rogue. I really do. Abandoned by the family she thought would love and take care of her, she fights and struggles to find a safe place to have her brood, which ends up being the place she was cast out from. I couldn’t just put her on the street.” He sighs, a fond but sad smile crossing his lips. “Reminds me a bit of my mum, to tell you the truth - the unforgiving life she had raising me and my sisters after our father left …”

Aziraphale gasps, that confession wrapping around his heart and giving it a solid tug. He could listen to Reuben talk all night. But he’s not just a great storyteller. He happens to be sweet, funny, attractive (God is he attractive! But, of course, Aziraphale has always been a sucker for hazel eyes like his, with flecks of gold that brighten the irises when the alcohol flows or the lighting is right). And as if that wasn’t enough, he works at one of the most successful (and philanthropic) firms in the city. But he doesn’t wear his wealth on his sleeve, doesn’t flaunt it like a selling point. His shirt is vintage, the wine he ordered costs $20 a bottle, and he came here on the tube. Personality, modesty, good looks, environmentally conscious, a stable career … Aziraphale sighs. In his opinion, Reuben is close to the perfect guy, and this blind date is going swimmingly!

Too bad it isn’t his.

“Oh Reuben …” Lorelei – Reuben’s date – blots her eyes with her napkin. She reaches across the table to touch his hand. Reuben’s eyes flick towards the touch and he smiles brighter.

Oh yeah, Aziraphale thinks, raising his glass and finishing the last of his Sirah. They’re having a fabulous night.

Aziraphale pulls out his pocket watch and checks the time. 

9:45.

He’s been sitting at the table next to theirs for over an hour, waiting for his own Reuben to appear. Aziraphale figured out thirty minutes ago that his blind date wasn’t coming. He’s gotten no texts, no calls, no apologies, no explanation why. Reuben and Lorelei might have a glowing future together, but his date for the evening is definitely a bust. The wait staff knows it, too. Every time the waitress stops by, offering to refill his water glass, it’s with a sympathetic smile. She’s long since stopped asking him if he wants to pack up what’s left of his crepes to go.

What’s left.

That’s a joke.

It’s pretty much the whole order.

He lost his appetite a long time ago.

Aziraphale reaches for his cell phone but stops with his hand on his pocket. He’s not going to be that guy. He’s not going to send another text. He’s not going to give this man an easy out, refuses to give him the benefit of the doubt and say, “Well, I guess you got caught up. Text me back and we can reschedule for another time.”

Aziraphale is done.

He just wishes he knew why.

Why doesn’t dating work out for him?

He’s not a bad guy, if he does say so himself. He’s reasonably attractive (at least, he’s always thought so). He owns his own small business, even if it doesn’t necessarily turn a profit, but money isn’t something he needs to worry about anyway. He’s doing what he loves, therefore he’s living the dream.

He’s not asking for much. He’s not looking for the perfect man, just a nice one. One who might share some of his interests like theater, food, music, wine, food, books … food. But on the whole, he wants to find a man who wants to spend time with him, get to know him, who maybe isn’t ashamed of doing cutesy, romantic things, like hold the door open for him, pull his chair out for him, offer him half his desert the way Reuben did with Lorelei.

Reuben.

Aziraphale peeks back over at the happy couple.

As Reuben stares into Lorelei’s eyes and signals for the check, Aziraphale knows that he needs to face facts and be done with this. His roommate Tracy has, yet again, succeeded in finding him a date that’s not interested in actually dating.

Where does she even find these guys?

More to the point, why hasn’t he learned to say no to her?

Unfortunately, he won’t get to gripe to her about it until Monday when she comes back from some spiritualist retreat she went on with their friend Anathema, so Aziraphale has a long, lonely weekend of reading Oscar Wilde and drinking (Irish) cocoa to look forward to until then.

Aziraphale takes one last sip of the lukewarm water in his overfilled glass and decides to ask for the check. He feels awful. He may have ordered a full meal but he’s barely touched it. Plus, even though he’s done his best to be as polite as possible, he has wasted over an hour of their time occupying a table that could have been made available to other paying customers on this busy Friday night.

He prays he has a forgettable face. On the off chance he ever comes in here again, he wouldn’t want them spitting in his food.

He looks around the dining room in search of his waitress – a lovely young red-head with freckles across the bridge of her nose and a permanent pout. He doesn’t see her, but spots a man rushing towards his table – a tall, remarkably handsome man dressed all in black and wearing designer sunglasses (indoors!); cheeks flushed as if he’s been running in the cold; a warm, inviting smile aimed his way.

“Hey there, handsome. Sorry I’m so late,” the man says, pulling out a chair, spinning it around, and straddling it across from Aziraphale in a move that makes Aziraphale’s breath catch. “I wish I could say I was stuck behind a seven car pile-up or something, but I really have no exciting excuse. Not that the M25 isn’t a bitch at this hour, but I didn’t take it so, again, no excuse.”

The man smiles at Aziraphale, waiting for him to laugh at his joke. Aziraphale looks suspiciously back, turning his head left and right, searching for an explanation.

“I … I’m sorry,” he says, addressing the man, mostly through side-eye glances. “Are you are you … looking for me?”

“Yes.” The man extends an arm across the table. “I’m your date for the evening. I’m Tracy’s friend Gabriel.”

“You?” Aziraphale raises an eyebrow. “You’re Gabriel?”

The man’s smile becomes wider in a tense sort of way. “Yes, I am.”

Aziraphale looks left and right again, obviously skeptical.

The man folds his hand on the table and sighs.

“Look, Aziraphale, I know I was supposed to be here at a quarter to nine, and I know you’ve probably called and texted a hundred times. I’m really, really sorry.” He looks down at his thumbs, fidgeting as he speaks. “I know this is going to sound lame, but I got caught up at work, and then my car ran empty. I wanted to call you, but I left my phone at the office.” The man sighs again, deeper, the air leaving his body causing him to flatten a bit. “This has been a pretty shite day, all things considered, and I was really looking forward to this date tonight. I would like the opportunity to make it up to you.” The man looks at Aziraphale from behind dark lenses, a sincere expression of regret on his face, eyes peeking over the frames pleading for a second chance.

Hazel eyes, with so many gold flecks crowding in they practically shine.

“Will you let me try?”

Aziraphale is stunned to silence. He doesn’t quite believe that Gabriel ever intended on showing up at all. But then, why is he here? Did some other plans he made fall through? Did he feel guilty about blowing Aziraphale off and turn around at the last minute? Aziraphale knows he has every right to leave - stand up, say goodbye, and go on his merry way. But Gabriel did show up – the first of three blind dates to even bother – so maybe Aziraphale should give him a chance.

He’s mulling it over when he catches sight of the man staring at him, a flirty smile on his lips that Aziraphale can’t help find alluring.

“Please?” the man mouths, the hands he’d folded on the table finding their way up to his chin to aid in his begging. “Please?”

Aziraphale rolls his eyes to pry his gaze away from the man’s mouth. “Alright. It sounds like you had a hard day. I can’t fault you for that.” The man looks relieved. His smile turns slightly impish, and Aziraphale finds himself giggling without meaning to. “Why don’t we have a nibble and get to know one another?”

Gabriel smacks his hand on the table in triumph. “Great!” he says, reclining back on the chair like a large snake relaxing in the sun. “Thank you! I promise, you won’t regret it!”

A hint of a smirk twists Aziraphale’s mouth at the corners as his waitress makes a sudden and unexpected appearance. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, my dear. You have a bit of time to make up for.”

***

“So my mate rings me up, and he’s screaming …” Gabriel gestures with his hands as he gets more into the story he’s telling, and Aziraphale watches, utterly captivated. If Aziraphale thought Reuben was a good storyteller, it’s only because he hadn’t met this man yet. “He’s straight yelling, “They’re everywhere! They’re everywhere! And it’s bloodcurdling, ya know? Like straight out of a horror movie. And I’m trying to pretend I have no idea what he’s talking about …” He pauses to catch his breath in the middle of a laugh while Aziraphale, already in tears, pictures Gabriel sitting at home, listening to his friend Ligur yelling while trying to make out like he has no idea what the man is on about. “And I’m just like, “Calm down, buddy.” But at home, I’m biting my fist trying not to blow my cover. And the next thing I know - bzzt.”

Aziraphale sobers slightly, his eyebrows shooting up. “Bzzt? What does that mean? Bzzt?”

“Bzzt as in the line goes dead. And on my end, the world might as well’ve stopped spinning because I knew what happened.”

“And what did happen?” Aziraphale asks, on the edge of his seat.

“They’d destroyed it! The rats! Those furry little buggers, they managed to knock out the phone system! And not just in my neck of the woods, but the whole of London!”

Aziraphale’s eyes go wide. “That was you!?”

Gabriel points to himself proudly. “That was me! All because …”

“All because you fed a rat!?”

“All because I fed a rat!” Gabriel guffaws so loudly, other diners turn their way to make sure he’s not choking.

“I remember that day!” Aziraphale says, but not too upset since he’s not all that fond of his cell phone. Necessary evil in his opinion. Tracy made him get it so he could field calls from potential suitors. But Tracy, who spends hours on the phone talking to her fiance, was livid!

It gives Aziraphale no small measure of satisfaction to say he now knows the man who inconvenienced her.

“I didn’t know its whole family lived in the building! Extendeds and all! I thought it was just one rat!”

“And what happened to them?”

“Exterminator, I guess,” Gabriel says with a hint of regret in his voice. “Rats are smart, though. Resilient, too. I’m hoping they got away.”

His story brings to Aziraphale’s mind Reuben’s story about the rat in his walls. He looks towards the table where he and his date were sitting, but a new couple has taken their place.

Huh, he thinks. Wonder when they left?

Aziraphale, having ordered a second glass of wine, takes a healthy sip, but the buzz he gets from the alcohol is nothing compared to the one he already has from this date with Gabriel.

“I have to say,” Aziraphale says as the laughter dies down, “I was a little wary about being set up. I mean, you hear so many stories. Best case scenario, you find your soulmate. Worst case, you wind up in the boot of someone’s car. But this is going so well!”

“Yeah. Yeah, it is,” Gabriel agrees, becoming suddenly quiet.

“I’ve never met a real live Pied Piper before!”

Gabriel laughs, but it’s not like before - not as effervescent and carefree. Aziraphale looks down at the empty plates on the table, at the stray pieces of crepes and deviled eggs they’d ended up splitting, not a single full bite left. As it turned out, they both ordered really well. Aziraphale didn’t think it was possible for two things to be so compatible.

He was wrong, pleasantly so.

“I know you had a rotten day but thank you for showing up. This was probably the most perfect blind date ever.” Aziraphale watches Gabriel, concerned that his attention seems to be slipping away.

Before he gets to comment, Gabriel beats him to it.

“Aziraphale, I have a confession to make.”

Aziraphale feels the butterflies that have been dancing in his stomach during dinner drop dead, as if hit by a sudden frost.

“Yes, Gabriel?”

“I …”

“Crowley! Hey! Fancy seeing you here, ya old bastard!”

Aziraphale’s attention pulls to the left, to a man with white hair and dark eyes heading their way. No, Aziraphale amends. He’s going to go past them, to a table on their right since neither of them are named Crowley. Aziraphale peeks at the handful of tables there, but no one seems to notice the man calling over their heads.

No one named Crowley is responding to his call.

He is sort of making a scene. Maybe this Crowley is trying to ignore him?

But the man coming their way seems completely focused on Gabriel.

Aziraphale looks to Gabriel, staring down at his plate and concentrating on it, as if praying this man, whoever he is, will pass them by.

Who could it be to him to elicit such a reaction, especially when it’s obvious he’s got the wrong man?

“Gabriel?” Aziraphale says, worried that perhaps something they ate soured his stomach. “Is there something the matter?”

Gabriel closes his eyes and shakes his head. “Aziraphale, I …”

“Crowley!” The man comes right up to their table and claps a hand on Gabriel’s shoulder, hard enough to make him flinch. “How long has it been, huh? Two months? Three?”

Gabriel sighs. He turns to the man looming over him and smiles the strained smile of a man about to commit a murder. “Hastur! Buddy! What a pleasant surprise!”

“Yeah.” The man chuckles. “You look like it is.”

“I thought you were vacationing down under.”

“Well, I’m back now. Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?” he asks, taking no time cutting to the chase.

“Aziraphale,” Gabriel … no, Crowley … says, doing everything in his power to avoid the full intensity of Aziraphale’s confused gaze, “I’d like to introduce you to Hastur. He’s … uh … an old friend of mine from school. Hastur, this is Aziraphale. He’s my … date for the evening.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” Hastur says, extending a hand. Aziraphale takes it and gives it a shake. It’s cold from the outdoors but not unpleasant. Hastur, on the whole, isn’t being impolite. He’s just oblivious.

As is Aziraphale.

“I’ve been tellin’ this asshat for years now he needs to get off his high horse and start dating again. Nice to see he finally took my advice.”

“Yeah, well, now that I have, why don’t you make yourself scarce so Aziraphale and I can continue?” Crowley grumbles, shooting Hastur several venom-filled glares.

“A’right, a’right,” he says, putting his hands up in defense, “don’t mind me. Just headin’ to the bar anyhow. Ring me up later, Crowley. We’ll go out for a few. Maybe your friend can come with us.”

“Will do.”

“You gentlemen have a nice night.” He bumps Crowley with his hip, winks at Aziraphale, then turns on his heel and heads for the bar.

The silence he leaves behind at Aziraphale and Crowley’s table is so thick, it could suffocate a wild boar.

Aziraphale clears his throat first. “So …”

Crowley follows, a bit softer. “So …”

“Tell me the truth,” Aziraphale says, too emotionally charged to keep frustration from cracking his voice.

“And if you don’t like what you hear?” Crowley looks at Aziraphale’s hands worrying his napkin, as if he’s longing to reach across the table and take one. “Are you going to leave?”

“I’m going to leave anyway. I just want to know who I’m calling the cops on when I get outside.”

“Don’t do that. I’m harmless. I promise.”

“Who are you?”

“Well … as you probably already know, my name isn’t Gabriel,” he says, finally removing his glasses and setting them aside. “It’s Crowley. Anthony Crowley. And I wasn’t your blind date. I’m not the man your friend set you up with.”

Aziraphale moves the napkin to his lap and smooths it, giving himself something other than Crowley to look at.

“To tell you the truth, I had a feeling,” he confesses. “I mean, you don’t seem like the type of man my friend would usually set me up with.”

“What kind of men does she usually set you up with?”

Aziraphale chuckles. “I don’t know. They don’t tend to show up.” Crowley growls, shakes his head in disgust. Aziraphale is flattered by his reaction. But he has to ask, “I don’t understand why? Why did you do this?”

“I stopped in for a drink and I saw you sitting at this table, waiting for your date.” Crowley grins. “I have to admit, I thought you were a looker, so I kept looking. I heard you talking to the waitress, making jokes. You sounded like a nice guy. You told her how your friend set you up, how excited you were. Then I heard you calling, saw you texting, and waiting and waiting and …"

“And you took pity on me,” Aziraphale says, embarrassment wearing a pit in his stomach.

“No, I was angry! I was angry that some dumb fuck got the chance to have a date with such a great seeming guy like you and he bailed. Opportunities like that don’t come by all the time and he threw his away. But I saw an opportunity and I took it. And no matter what you think about me now, I’m glad I did. Because you’re great. You’re really great. And I hope that you’ll forgive me and let me take you out on a real first date.”

The table becomes quiet again - Crowley watching Aziraphale, Aziraphale looking at his lap. The whole restaurant seems to have gone silent, as if everyone around them who has listened to them laugh and talk and watched them share their meal is waiting to see what Aziraphale is going to say. From somewhere off toward the kitchen door, Crowley thinks he sees a few of the waitresses peeking around a corner, watching their table a little too intensely.

“What else was a lie?” Aziraphale asks. “Everything you said over dinner, was any of that true?”

“All of it,” Crowley says. “Everything I said about living in Mayfair, owning a Bentley, taking a permanent gap year, working as a nanny for kicks, being an obnoxious trust fund baby, tormenting my friends with a rat army … here … wait …” Crowley opens his jacket and reaches into his pocket, pulling out his phone. He touches the screen, swipes it a few times, then hands it to Aziraphale. “Take a look. Granted I’ve only had this since the recent iPhone hit the bricks, but I’ve got a few pictures on it that should back me up. My Bentley, my flat, a few of my plants …” Crowley ticks photos off as Aziraphale flips through them. “There should even be one or two of the rats. Ligur sent them to me before he ran screaming.” Crowley snickers in such an off-handed way, Aziraphale can’t help believing him. And speak of the devil, next photo up is of a work station covered in black rats rooting through the works and apparently sending London skidding back to the dark ages.  

Maybe Aziraphale just wants to believe him, but as far as he’s concerned, Crowley is telling the truth.

“I … I don’t know,” Aziraphale says, handing the phone back.

“What?” Crowley asks, his expression of newly kindled hope falling off his face. “What don’t you know?”

“Yes, you’re telling the truth, but …”

“But …”

“I don’t know anything about you. Not really.”

“Fair enough,” Crowley says, slipping his phone back in his pocket. “But can I ask you a question?”

“I guess.”

“What did you know about Gabriel before you showed up here to meet him?”

“Well, I …” Aziraphale sits there with his mouth open, expecting words to come out that don’t exist, because he didn’t know anything about Gabriel. Not even what he looked like. Tracy told him that she showed Gabriel a picture of him, and that Gabriel would know him when he saw him. But other than that, all he had was Tracy’s assurance that they would work well together. In reality, Gabriel could have stopped by at some point, caught Aziraphale waiting for him, didn’t like what he saw, then turned around and left, and Aziraphale would have never known.

But Crowley on the other hand - Aziraphale has been talking to Crowley all through dinner. Provided he’s telling the truth, Aziraphale knows more about him than he does his best friend, and they used to room together.

“Okay,” he concedes. “You’ve got me. Alright, Crowley. Sure. I would love to go on a real first date with you.”

Crowley reaches his hand across the table and Aziraphale takes it, suddenly recalling the look in Reuben’s eye before he signaled for the check.

Crowley has a similar look.

He raises his hand for the check.

But after not seeing her for most of their meal, their waitress walks over and puts two glass flutes down. Then she pours each man a glass of champagne from a bottle Aziraphale is certain costs more than their meal.

“Uh, waitress?” Crowley calls to the woman before she can walk away.

“Yes, sir?”

“What’s this?” he asks, perplexed by the sudden appearance of alcohol.

“It’s champagne,” she says, as if that isn’t apparent. “The house special.”

“But we didn’t order champagne” Aziraphale points out.

“I know,” she says with a wink. “It’s on the house. Enjoy it. Take all the time you need …”

[eryiss]

Request: Both Addictive and Electric

Summary: After finishing filming for the final season of the fantasy series Fairy Tail, Laxus finds himself at a party. Across the dancefloor is Freed, a co-star and a man who Laxus respects more than any other actor. But his feelings are more than just respect, and the space separating them is an ocean, but Laxus wants to change that. He just needs some time. And courage. [Fraxus One Shot]

This was part of a prompt based request thing I'm doing, based off of a request to have a Fraxus Actor AU made by @veikari. I hope you all enjoy and if you have a request please leave a comment or maybe talk to me tumblr.

You can read this on FanFiction, Archive of our Own, or under the cut. Hope you enjoy it ^.^

Both Addictive and Electric

"Well, I'm sure you were bored of my voice before this even started," Makarov spoke into the microphone, getting a chuckle from the crowd. "So I'll end it here. Have a fun night, drink well, and don't do anything that'll get you in tomorrow's papers."

A cheer went through the room, and Laxus raised his glass of champagne into the air in solidarity. He was attending the wrap party for Fairy Tail's latest series, in which Laxus was a main actor. The show was a high budget, large scale fantasy drama that had been on the air for years. It had managed to shake off the comparisons to Game of Thrones and was standing strong with its own passionate audience. It was one of Laxus' largest rolls, and he was proud of the show and what he had contributed to it.

Laxus had been relatively famous since he was young, thanks to his grandfather being a well-known producer. He had been the embodiment of spoiled celebrity kid, so his grandfather had ended up refusing to give him parts based off his behaviour. After years of getting smaller parts on crappy shows, he and his grandfather made up and Laxus got an audition for a small part in Fairy Tail.

His part sort of… exploded.

Originally he was just a war general. Not overly important, more of an antagonistic rival character for the protagonist to overcome. The character got peoples attention in the first season, so he got more screen time in season two. This came with a narrative arc focused around a member of the royal family, who his character had a rivalry with. People responded well to this, and both his character and the prince were promoted to the main cast from that point. It was the best roll that he had worked for himself, and he was proud of his work.

Although he couldn't claim all the credit. He wouldn't have gotten there without Freed.

Freed played the prince and had done so perfectly. The antagonistic rivalry between the two of them – ranging from butting heads on small things to full on fights – were some of the best acting Laxus had done. When together, they dominated any scene, and somehow had managed to get along well behind the scenes without difficulty, which apparently showed in their performances. One review claimed they had an electric, addictive chemistry together.

Even thinking of the man, Laxus looked towards him.

Freed was on the other side of the dance floor. He was speaking with Mirajane – one of the lead directors of the show – and looked amazing. Laxus rarely saw him in formalwear, as both their characters mainly wore ruined clothes and were covered in dirt and blood for their story this year, and to see him so clean cut was amazing. The blonde had forgotten how good his co-star looked in a suit, and now was a cruel reminder of the fact.

His attraction to the man wasn't ideal. Laxus wasn't insecure about his sexuality, he couldn't care less. But he and Freed had some scenes that put them in less than brilliant situations if one had a crush on the other. Lots of intense arguments where they ended up face to face, quite closely; occasional falling against each other in battle scenes in positions that were somewhat compromising; and on one occasion they had to bathe in a fairly small river beside one another. That was not Laxus' favourite scene to film.

Mirajane didn't help, insisting they needed a tighter shot and that they should get closer. She knew – Laxus wasn't sure how, but she knew.

But now, their work relationship was over. The season marked the end of Fairy Tail, and therefore he and Freed would no longer be working together. It was inevitable, and it wasn't as if they would never see each other again. But they weren't going to be spending most of their days together anymore. And that wasn't the nicest feeling in the world.

As if to contrast his melancholy, a burst of laughter filled the room.

Laxus looked to the source and saw most people watching a large screen, wherein Gildarts was waist deep in a decorative fountain, and Natsu was laughing madly at him for falling in. The blooper reel had begun then; Laxus hadn't realised. He shifted his seat so that he could better watch the screen – it was cheap entertainment, but funny.

For whatever reason, the editor had put the bloopers in order of plot lines. First all the clips containing Natsu and Lucy, the main characters; then the side plot surrounding Gajeel's character; then Levy's. As a clip of Jet stumbling over a line for the fifth time ended, Laxus had finished his drink and was picking at a plate of nachos that were on his table. The next clip was familiar to him – it was located in the castle set that he and Freed had done some of their scenes in. So it was time for their bloopers now.

The first few were fairly conventional. A side actor unable to get out a line, the camera operator accidentally walking backwards into a wall during a shot, and a few other small things put in there to fill in time.

When one scene started to play, Laxus rolled his eyes but grinned. He knew the clip, it was from a scene shared by both he and Freed, where their characters were arguing viciously. On cue, with their face's inches from each other, Laxus made the mistake that Freed still refused to let him live down. Saying Freed's actual name rather than his characters'.

The second Freed heard his own name, his face quickly turned from his character's anger to his own smugness. He raised his eyebrow, smirked, and Laxus' heartbeat increased. This happened both when they filmed the scene as well as when Laxus watched it back.

"Excuse me?" Freed had said, smirking as Laxus groaned.

"Shut up," The blonde grunted.

"No, I don't think I will," Freed continued, not stepping back from their close position. "Because Laxus Dreyar- my apologies. Award winning actor, Laxus Dreyar."

"You're such a dick," Laxus chuckled.

"Has forgotten the key principal of acting," Freed kept going. "That there's a little difference between actors and their characters."

Laxus watched as he pushed Freed's face away on the screen before the clips went to whatever the next blooper was. The blonde paid no mind to it, letting his gaze drift to Freed again, who was laughing as he watched the clips with everyone else. The light was hitting him just right and he looked practically angelic, and it left a dullness in his stomach. Even despite the music and the sound of the video, Laxus could basically hear the sound of Freed's velvet laugh. Maybe he was imagining it.

With a small sigh, he picked up the half-drunk beer he'd abandoned when the champagne had been handed out and stood up. He looked to Bickslow, who was sitting on the table with him.

"I'm gonna get some air."

"Sure," Bickslow smiled, and it was perhaps sympathetic. Bickslow was one of the few people Laxus had told about his attraction to Freed.

The blonde gave him a short nod and made his way out of the event room. He followed the signs to the fire exit and opened the door, walking out onto the metal balcony that made up the fire escape. He leant on it, cradling the beer in his hand and looking up at the sky. It was a cloudless night, meaning he had an unhindered view of the stars that hung above him. It looked pretty nice, even Laxus could admit.

Somewhat melodramatic though.

He drained his beer, a sense of sadness filling him. It was an odd feeling. Not only was he not going to see Freed as much as he would like, he was saying goodbye to the show. He'd been working on it for years, had gotten close to both the cast and crew, and it basically all over now. This hadn't happened in Laxus' career yet, and he didn't really know how to deal with it.

But, after draining his beer did nothing, he turned to the pack of cigarettes in his jacket pocket. A habit he really needed to stop.

"You do know the tabloids will destroy you if they find out you do this."

Laxus' head shot around at Freed's voice, and he saw the man walking towards him with a small smile on his face. Equal parts teasing and soft; an expression only Freed could manage to create. Laxus took a single drag of the cigarette before stubbing it out and flicking it into a drain; it was just rude to smoke in Freed's face.

"I barely have one a month, hardly news," Laxus shrugged, looking over the balcony again. Freed joined him, leaning against the railing beside him.

"I think the people who wrote the multiple articles about you in men's health would disagree," Freed chuckled, and Laxus flushed a little. He'd been forced to model for that magazine five times now, being on the front cover three times. "What's wrong, Laxus?"

There was no point in arguing, but he would anyway.

"Who says anything wrong?"

"There's an open bar which you've barely used. You've smoked, which you only do when you're either stressed or sad, and you're leaning on a railing in the middle of winter when you could be inside watching a video of your co-workers making asses out of themselves."

"Smartass," Laxus muttered.

"Yes," Freed agreed, and Laxus chuckled. "So, I ask again, what's wrong?"

"Just feeling a little shit, you know," Laxus sighed. "First time saying goodbye to something I actually cared about. Not really sure how to deal with it properly."

"I can understand that. It's not a pleasant prospect," Freed nodded a little, then looked towards him. "But we still have some time left. And I've no doubt you'll be redubbing your lines when it comes to ADR, because you still haven't learned not to mumble half of your lines."

"Fuck off," Laxus grinned, but didn't deny the claim. "But yeah, I guess so. Just won't be the same, though."

"In what way, exactly?" Freed asked, and Laxus sighed.

He wanted to tell Freed. Tell him that he was going to miss spending time with him. Wanted to tell him their time in makeup was a highlight of Laxus' days for months because they got to be themselves and have fun with each other. Wanted to tell him that if he had even a little bit more confidence that he would be taking him out to his favourite burger place or sushi bar or whatever right now on their first date. Of course he couldn't say all that, so he just shrugged.

Freed looked at him for a little while but didn't say anything. He looked over the balcony with a content expression on his features, and it took a lot of restraint on Laxus' part not to ogle him. Because he really was a handsome man; unfairly so.

"You know, given your fame for playing stoic characters," Freed began, seemingly out of nowhere. "You're awfully easy to read."

"What does that mean?" Laxus asked, a little cautious.

"It means I'm going to miss you too," Freed said, tone a little soft. He shifted slightly and Laxus could feel his forearm resting against Freed's. That must have been intentional. "But if you think I'm doing the press tour with anyone but you you're incredibly mistaken."

A sense of giddiness filled Laxus, and he blushed a little at the sensation. He smiled a little but continued to look forward.

"And what if I wanna do it with someone else?"

"Well they pair us up by storyline, so the only other people you could pair with would be Bickslow or Ever," Freed chuckled. "Could you handle spending days alone with them in an un-air-conditioned room answering the same question hundreds of times?"

"And you can make it more tolerable, huh?" Laxus nudged Freed with his shoulder. "How d'you plan on doing that?"

Freed seemed to think for a moment. "How willing are you to piss off your grandfather?"

"Spent most of my teenage years doing it, why?" Laxus asked with a frown.

"Because he explicitly told us not to do anything that might get us in the tabloids," Freed had a small smirk on his face, and Laxus couldn't help the small thrill that ran through him. "And, I imagine that this would make the papers eventually."

"You gonna flash the cameraman or something?" Laxus chuckled, and Freed laughed.

"Get me another beer and I'll consider it," Freed grinned. "But actually, I want to take you to dinner tomorrow night."

"To dinner?"

"As a date, Laxus," Freed clarified, now looking directly at Laxus. The blonde felt his heart stop at the words. "Because, as fun as it's been dancing around it, the fact is I like you. I had made enough excuses as to why I shouldn't ask you out, and I'm done with it. So, Mr Dreyar, would you like to attend a press tour with someone you've been on a date on?"

Laxus waited a moment, to process, before he grinned. "Fuck yeah I would."

"Good," Freed said, and he was smiling. No smirk or grin in sight, and it made Laxus warm inside. "Now, are you still planning on spending the rest of the night out here. Because if you are then I'll inevitably be the one tasked with brining your slice of cake to you and I don't think I have the energy to fend Natsu off while doing it so you might not get any."

"Wow, you ain't willing to fight a guy so I can have some cake huh? Maybe this date ain't a good idea," Laxus teased, and Freed laughed. When he spoke again, Laxus' voice was softer. "I'll go back in a minute, fucking boiling in there, and there's too many people."

"Of course. Take your time," Freed smiled.

Freed went to walk away, but Laxus felt a sudden burst of courage flow through him. He took Freed's hand in his own and intertwined their fingers, making Freed pause and look at him with a slight cock in his eyebrow. How he had that much control over his damn eyebrows Laxus still didn't know.

"Y'know, if I'm gonna piss off Gramps, I'm gonna do it right," Laxus said in explanation, standing up and facing Freed.

"Meaning?" Freed asked.

"Meaning this," Laxus grinned.

He tugged Freed towards him, so that they were chest to chest again. Freed grinned back at him, still with that cock in his eyebrow, and Laxus didn't say anything. He placed his hand on the back of Freed's neck and pulled him that little bit closer. He leant down and closed the distance between them both, bringing their lips together in their first kiss.

It was fucking electric, and Laxus found himself addicted within an instant.

[an-annyeoing-writer]

ghost!Chanyeol x Reader: give it to me.

Word count: 1 053

Warnings: mentions of death, but then, what else do you expect from Ghost!AU???

I dreamed about being stuck in a haunted house today... What a Halloweenish thing to have a nightmare about?? But then, nothing like a good inspiration!! Enjoy!!

The door in front of you had been locked a while ago and you sat on the floor, staring at the former exit, the one that was now out of your reach, clearly.

“How long are you gonna keep me in here?” you muttered, crossing your arms in a defensive pose. The autumn was at its finest, you thought, curling up a little. The inside of the house were chilly, and even with the jacket you had on, you felt the coldness seeping through your body. 

“Until you give me what I want.”

“No. No way” you huffed, wrapping arms around your bag. 

The voice was behind you, but then it moved around the room; small sounds of dirt and rotten wallpaper falling off the surfaces brought your attention to where – as you supposed – the man was at the moment. But nothing could be seen.

You wish you could get used to the creepy effect, but it obviously wasn’t as easy as you’d like. You felt better knowing that any sort of creatures living in this house couldn’t really leave it. But inside, they were as real as a human would be – capable of moving objects, but also of going through the walls and floors, touching you, holding you.

The house listened to them. It also listened to the man present in the same room as you were now. 

“Let me out” you spat. “You’re not getting it. It’s mine.”

“No. You’ll get out only if you leave it here.”

“Then guess I’ll stay here forever.”

“Well, I’ll be flattered if you do.”

You huffed, unamused, ignoring the laughter at the end of the other’s sentence. Truth being spoken, he had an unlimited amount of time, while yours would – sooner or later – run out. And if you seriously decided to stay here long enough… You shivered at the thought of becoming one of the creatures locked in here till the end of times. The perspective was more than just scary; dying here would be a torture. You’d either freeze to death at night or starve, and both of these options would last quite a while.

And all because of something so meaningless.

But you refused to give up. You weren’t going to either give up, and neither to die. 

You believed that your patience would save you. 

So you stood up and, with your arms still wrapped tightly around your bag, jumped onto the old, dirty bed, curling up in it. If you had no choice but to wait, you could as well do it comfortably.

“Are you gonna sleep in here…?”

“…”

You didn’t reply, instead half-lying on the bag to make sure that even if you, in fact, fell asleep, the man would have no access to it. 

“You’re kidding. You can’t sleep in here. It’s cold.”

You kept your mouth shut, fixating your gaze on some meaningless spot in front of you.

“Hey, are you mad at me?!”

He appeared in front of you so suddenly that you flinched; you hated jump-scares and he seemed to relish in them, to your utter annoyance. You did your best to stay in your place, even as he put his hand on your wrist. The chilly feeling seeped through you; lacking of temperature, as if you were touching water of exactly the same temperature as your body, smooth and gentle sensation, but intrusive nonetheless.

“Hey, talk to me. You can’t possibly be mad at me!”

“Watch me” you huffed and rolled over to rest on your other side.

“Come on…”

You pouted, curling up even more.

“Ah, shit…” 

He sat next to you, with his hand still ghosting over your arm, but where your jacket was and you couldn’t feel him directly anymore. He let out a small whimper.

“Jesus, why are you so stubborn?! It’s just a freaking PSP, I’d give it back to you later anyway!”

“Ah, sure!” you suddenly snapped. “Just like you were supposed to give me back my peacock pen! But guess what! You didn’t! Because some dead freaking dog torn it to pieces! I asked you to be careful!”

“Yah, I already apologized for it!” he exclaimed. “You know I’d be more careful with the PSP!”

You turned around again, glaring at him angrily.

“I paid for it from my own money! Find a job and buy some yourself.”

“Very funny.”

You stared at each other for a few long seconds, as if in a glance-fight. 

And then, as if on a command, you burst into laughter. 

Chanyeol looked away shyly, reaching to scratch his face in an awkward motion. 

“Imagine if I ordered something to deliver to this address” he suddenly said and you snorted at that.

“Poor delivery man.”

“He’d probably think it’s just some prank.”

“I mean, if you ordered something you already paid for, he’d have no choice but to deliver it. We should try it out one day.”

“I think there’s some jewelry hidden in this house. You know, under floors and such. If I gave it to you, would you sell it and buy me PSP?”

You rolled your eyes.

“If I tried to sell it, people would probably think I stole it. And besides, isn’t it something important to you? Didn’t it belong to your family?” You put your hands behind your head, resting back on the old mattress a tad more comfortably now, knowing that you don’t have to protect your bag with all your might anymore. 

“I mean, technically yes, but it’s completely useless to me now.” Chanyeol shrugged. “This way it won’t waste. I’d rather have PSP than something I can’t really do anything with.” 

“And how you’re gonna charge it?”

There was a short silence.

“So, [F/n]…”

You rolled your eyes at the pleading look on the man’s face.

“What would you do without me?” 

“Be the most bored ghost in the history of haunted houses” he answered, lying next to you and smiling widely, so child-likely, at your alive form.

“I’ll borrow you that PSP for now” you suddenly announced. Chanyeol’s eyes lit up. “But I’m taking your hero figurines as collateral.”

“…”

“So you better watch out with that dog.”

“Hey. Hellhound is usually very calm.”

“…Hellhound? His name is Hellhound?”

“…Not really a name” Chanyeol explained slowly. “But let’s leave it this way.”

Tumblr refuses to show my works in the tags, so please, reblog if you enjoyed! It’s my only way to spread the drabbles now!

[fhimechan]

Merman AU - April

This is the 12th chapter of my AU where Hannibal is a merman and Will is a human, started because of @brokenfannibal​ and @my-soul-and-perfume​ :) I’m also tentatively tagging @bonesandscales and @limonium-anemos, who are under no obligation to read :D

Tumblr is still formatting my posts as it wants so please forgive me if something’s amiss. Another warning is that I didn’t ask anyone to beta, and since this month is long, I didn’t check preposition by preposition as usual… Keep reading with kindness 😅

[Prologue]   [June]   [July]   [August]   [September]   [October]   [November]   [December]   [January]   [February]   [March]

Jenny comes to pick him up in his house in a small van with the shop’s logo. She waves cheerfully from the car, but when Will hops in she frowns. “What did he do now?”

Will was sure he had been able to dissimulate his emotions when he was  a cop. But maybe, and he blinks at the realization, he didn’t have friends. And he’s about to put his friend in danger, involving her into his not-yet-planned rescue.

He sighs. Instead of answering, he says, “If you take me there, I’ll get you in trouble.

Jenny takes a hard, long look at his face. She nods. “I’ll do it. Anything you need to know?”

Will swallows around the lump in his throat. He will repay her, take the blame. Maybe pretend he forced her, if worst comes to worst.

“What are we carrying?”

She starts the engine, and adamantly refuses not to smile. “Some sort of fancy underwater recording device. Looks like a huge mic. George takes mermaids seriously.” She winks. 

Will thinks. They’re bringing Hannibal a mic. Sounds promising.“Oh, a plan is coming, I see it in your eyes. Do I have a role in it?”

Will blinks. He should really try to hide his emotions better, but at the same time being read like that is weirdly reassuring.

“Would you pretend to faint in front of George?” The familiar name is weird on his tongue.

She considers it. “Okay. I suppose it must be bad enough that he has to carry me home, to my meds? Possibly I should cling to him so it doesn’t occur to him to send you?” Her expression is very incongruous with the seriousness of the situation. “What? Don’t you think I had an emergency strategy to get out of school early?”

Will snorts in spite of the worry.

-

The house is visible from the road, suspended at the top of the cliff in the twilight light. It’s dark and imposing, straight out of a fairytale, or a nightmare. It’s currently empty, a cursed home calling for his lost tenants.

Then, as they come closer, the lights lit, and Will is back to the here and now. 

They must have already transferred Hannibal inside.

-

There’s only George’s car outside, which is good. The captors must have come by boat. George himself opens the door. When Will says “Jenny…”, worrying his shirt and breathing heavily, George is out and running to the car before Will could even finish his sentence. He knows he should feel ashamed at his act, but the guilt is nowhere to be found as George gives him vague indications about where to leave the equipment and speeds down the hill.

Will blocks the gate with the van, so that George, or anyone else, won’t have an easy access to the house, then heads inside with the box containing the microphone.

The house is completely silent apart from some distant voices. Will follows them to a room where three people are fussing with some sort of equipment. Will thinks he remembers two of them from the cruise.

Beside them there’s a stunning tank, which covers the entire wall of the room, dominating the assorted soft sofas and small tables currently covered in cables and assorted instruments. The tank is lit from inside, and the small spotlights shine over a number of colorful fishes.

In the furthest corner of the tank, there’s Hannibal. Will didn’t see him at first glance because he’s curled on himself, impassive. His rigid stance screams of fear.

Will realizes he has frozen in place and steps over the threshold, towards Hannibal, forcing himself not to fret or to look anything but surprised. Not angry, not nervous, not worried.

As soon as he enters the room, Hannibal’s eyes snaps to Will, and he straightens. Will ignores how the other people turn to him, because the burning red in Hannibal’s eyes is unfocused, and his emotions, usually hidden under the surface, are bare. Hannibal is burning with fury.

“Oh, the mic! Thank goodness!”

Someone takes the box from his hands, as Will’s anger builds. He has expected to find Hannibal drugged, because how else Hannibal would have ended up trapped? But even if rationally it makes sense, it’s still infuriating.

And they have him only because he saved me, Will thinks.

He fakes a charming smile. “Why! Was it real then? A merman?”

The three people start to talk at the same time, too excited to pay attention to what Will is doing. He advances towards the tank, giving his back to the rest of the room.

“After a month of searching, we found him during our surprise visit…”

“What a surprise, indeed!”

“Can’t believe our luck!”

Will is tempted to smash the glass and let the water flood the room. Hannibal would attack them and they would pay for taking him away.

Hannibal smiles slowly at him, pleased, ready to lunge.

Instead, Will signs, “I’ll take you out.”

Hannibal’s eyes narrow.

Apparently, the microphone is expensive enough to be assembled in record time, because one of the men, still chatting, pushes a ladder to Will’s left. He climbs to a small panel above the water, where he can enter the long arm of the mic into the tank.

“Finally we can discover if it’s sentient.”

Hannibal’s eyes widens when recognizes the device. Calculating. Cold. The drug isn’t slowing him down; if anything, it’s bringing out his instinct.

Hannibal is in the water. He could order them to do anything. He could tell the men to kill each other with the cutter they have used to open the box, or maybe with their bare hands. He could tell Will to kill them.

Will feels a thrill of anticipation at the though.

Plausible deniability. A kill outside of his control. The satisfaction, without the guilt.

Will could show the knife to Hannibal and let the events unfold, following his urge to kill whoever tried to separate them; or he could tell the man to stop, not to lower the mic, giving away his chance of breaking him free and stopping Hannibal’s murders forever.

What he does instead is a leap of faith. Because he wants Hannibal, and he doesn’t want to kill innocents, and he must at least try to have both. He signs at Hannibal. “Please. Don’t. I just want to stay with you.”

I don’t want to live with the guilt every day for the rest of my life.

The mic splashes into the water. Hannibal swims closer, looks at Will.

“Please.”

Hannibal’s eyes still burn, but part of it belongs to Will. He speaks.

“Will, if you may, cover your ears for a moment.”

Will does. Hannibal’s mouth moves, and the men blink, confused, then their eyes unfocus and they lie down on the floor, staring unmoving at the ceiling.

Will’s legs fold under him. He smiles.

“You…”

Hannibal looks annoyed. Yeah, well, he just didn’t kill three people, must be exhausting after a lifetime of violence. Will giggles. He suspects it’s a bit hysterical.

Hannibal frowns. “Stop being silly and let me out.”

His voice is warm and low, and Will loves how it comforts him. Will is still smiling as the orders kick in, and the smile widens when Hannibal flinches. The order was accidental. Oh, well, Hannibal’s drugged, he can’t be perfect.

Will has to stop moving, in spite of the order, because he doesn’t know what to do.

He giggles again. “How did you get in there?”

Hannibal growls in frustration, and it shouldn’t be that funny. “I don’t know. You’re the human, do something!”

The order kicks in again, and Will laughs aloud. “I’m doing something, Hannibal. Breathing.”

Before Hannibal loses his last shred of patience, Will looks around. After a small search, he finds it. Hidden under a wood panel, there’s a smaller tank which can be attached and detached from the main one through a watertight seal.

The seal is currently open, so Hannibal hops in, somewhat uncoordinated, and glares at Will, daring him to joke over it. Hannibal is out of the reach of the mic now.

Operating the controls of the seal isn’t difficult, but it isn’t easy either. Will sobers up, starting to worry. How much time has passed? Surely at least half an hour. How much time left do they have?

Hannibal is sitting on the bottom of his small tank, simply watching Will as he fumbles to get the container moving. The tank can move directly into the internal elevator and down the cliff, or at least it could if Will managed to pull the right lever.

Finally, the engine buzzes to life and the tank slips sideway, on its way to the elevator. Will smiles and turns to Hannibal.

He has less than a second to register how Hannibal’s eyes are wide and savage and how he is pressing his body against the glass, before two arms are choking him from behind.

Will kicks, enough to conquer a mouthful of air, but the arms strengthen around him.

“What did you do?”

George’s voice is almost unrecognizable for the rage. Will understands it. Discovering Jenny is lying, walking into his house, his friends on the floor, Will stealing his his prize. He knows how he looks like.  George is strong, and Will’s arms grow more and more uncoordinated, as his blows don’t seem to obtain any result. He wants to apologize to Hannibal.

Something crashes, loud enough that Will hears it over the pounding of his ears. The seam of his trouser is splashed and pierced by small shreds of glass, and he can breath.

He falls to the floor, coughing, clutching his throat, and sees Hannibal. He’s lying in a puddle in the floor, wrestling with George on the ground, teeth bared, about to rip George’s throat off.

Will doesn’t think, and lunges.

He rolls with Hannibal in a mess of wet carpet and splinters, narrowly avoiding to impale his eye in a bigger shred of glass, Hannibal’s sharp teeth scratching his shoulder. He is remotely aware of some steps fading away, when Hannibal bites deeper and the skin breaks. Will stops struggling. He tilts his chin down and sideways to look at Hannibal.

Red splattered on his face, unfocused red on his eyes. Dangerous. Free. Alive.

Will feels alive, too.

Will smiles down at him, and says, “Thank you.”

Hannibal blinks and stares.

Then his teeth retracts, and at first Will thinks it’s Hannibal moving away, but immediately after Hannibal coughts, and his whole body trembles, and suddenly Will, scared out of his mind, is sitting with Hannibal on his lap, watching him twitch without the faintest idea of what to do. Hannibal’s tale splits into two legs, his skin loses the green undertone. Will doesn’t care, focusing on Hannibal’s ragged breathing, willing him to be okay. He holds Hannibal as he changes, until his breath are regular and there’s a man in Will’s lap.

A man, Hannibal, who doesn’t leave Will any time to process the event before flinging himself outside of the door, as if called by a distant voice.

Will can only raise and run after him.

Outside, the sea is screaming in the otherwise quiet night. The moon lits the angry waves, letting Will see the outline of each single drop, even if between him and the water there’s a fucking long dive.

Hannibal stands at the edge of the cliff, staring at a single boat who’s running away in the distance. His whole body is tense, ready to jump.

The pendulum swings, and Will sees Hannibal as a kid, centuries before, on that same cliff, watching his sister’s killers escape, summoning the power to chase them. The past and the present overlaps perfectly.

Will’s heart breaks. Hannibal’s going to leave him, picking once again revenge over humanity.

Will reaches out. “Hannibal…”

Hannibal turns, his eyes dart from the ship to Will and back to the ship again. George is running away and soon he’ll be out of sight. There’s only a tiny, small shred of doubt in Hannibal, and Will doesn’t know how to reach him. He wants to say that George won’t be believed, not without a merman. Not without witnesses. He won’t be believed when the police will discover his friends are alive and passed out on the floor.

That won’t get through Hannibal’s unfocused eyes.

So Will extends his hand, a silent plea, like he did the first time Hannibal came to him. Will knows that this is the moment. If Hannibal reaches back for him now, they’ll be together forever. If he doesn’t… It hurts to even think about it.

The first time Hannibal has reached out, he has been curious. Will can only hope now he’s committed.

Hannibal stares at the hand without blinking, and his eyes clear.

Then, a step forward, away from the edge. And another. And another.

Their hands touch again, and Hannibal is still cold as the ocean, inevitably breaking through Will’s barriers to his core.

Will doesn’t know what he’s saying, but he grips the hands harder, then he clings.

Hannibal whispers into his ear. “Yes, I’m taking you home.”

——

[Epilogue]

This is the end of the main story, next month there’ll be an epilogue… and then it’ll be done! Thank you for reading! ♥ 

[splendidlyimperfect]

Gray hasn’t seen Natsu in years - not since he moved away with his boyfriend Joel and Natsu stopped texting him. A chance run-in at a bar brings Natsu back into Gray’s life, but the encounter puts Gray in danger when Joel finds out. Natsu quickly realizes that Gray’s stuck in a cycle of violence, and wants to help him escape. But leaving isn’t that easy, and sometimes loving someone might not be enough. 

Chapter Summary: Natsu shows up again, and Gray doesn't know what to do.

Chapters (10/21):  1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Natsu Dragneel/Gray Fullbuster, Gray Fullbuster/Original Male Character(s) Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Abuse, Abusive Relationships, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rape Aftermath, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Natsu just wants to help, but Gray feels like he can’t leave, Non-Linear Narrative, Trans Character, Tumblr: FTLGBTales, ftlgbtpride2019, Coming Out, First Love, Angst with a Happy Ending, I promise

-----

you and i both have to hide, where i can't be yours and you can't be mine

com· pli· ca· tion | \ ˌkäm-plə-ˈkā-shən noun : a difficult factor or issue often appearing unexpectedly and changing existing plans, methods, or attitudes

.

x april

.

“Gray! New table for you in section three!”

Gray sighs, rubbing his face and nodding at Jeremy. It’s busy today – even though the lunch rush is almost over, the restaurant is still packed, and Gray’s both exhausted and hungover. He wipes at the sweat running down the back of his neck before washing his hands and heading out into the front of the restaurant.

“Good afternoon, welcome to...”

Gray trails off as he realizes that the person sitting in his section is Natsu.

Shit.

There’s an awkward silence as they stare at each other, and then Gray’s eyes flick across the table to a vaguely familiar blond man in a police uniform.

Gray’s stomach immediately drops and he’s sure he’s going to throw up.

“Gray, right?” The man smiles at him, and Gray realizes with relief that it’s just Natsu’s friend from the bachelor party last night. He rearranges his face into something neutral while he desperately tries to remember the man’s name. Stan? Stiles? Sting.

“Y-yeah,” Gray says after a second. He can feel Natsu staring at him, and Gray’s suddenly incredibly conscious of the faint red mark across his cheek. “Sorry, I, uh—there was a mistake, I...”

Gray’s vision blurs and for a terrifying moment he thinks he might pass out. He catches himself on the table, refusing to meet Natsu’s gaze, then turns around and all but runs back into the kitchen. His heart is pounding, and he leans back against the wall near the staff room, taking deep breaths.

“What are you—Gray? Are you okay?”

A gentle hand lands on Gray’s arm and he’s about to shrug it off when he realizes that it’s just Lucy.

Continue reading on AO3

A gentle hand lands on Gray’s arm and he’s about to shrug it off when he realizes that it’s just Lucy.

“Sorry,” he says, leaning back against the wall and taking a deep breath. “I just—I...” His hands won’t stop shaking and he clenches them into fists, digging his nails into his palms to try and focus. “Can you take my new table?”

Lucy looks out across the restaurant, then back to Gray. “The cop and the guy with the pink hair?” she asks, and he nods, crossing his arms over his chest. Lucy sighs. “Are you in trouble?”

Gray sighs, forcing himself to look up at Lucy and give her a wry smile. “It’s silly,” he says, trying to keep his voice even. “He’s my ex – the guy with the pink hair – we haven’t talked in a while and it’s just...”

“Gotcha.” Lucy squeezes Gray’s hand and gives him a grin. “Want me to spit in his drink?”

Gray manages a laugh as he shakes his head. “I appreciate it,” he says, “but he’s not actually a bad guy. I just don’t think I can handle him right now. He’s... a lot.”

“Uhuh.” Lucy rolls her eyes. “You’ve met my ex, I know a thing or two about ‘a lot.’ I’ve got this.” Then she squeezes Gray’s arm and heads out to the front of the restaurant.

-----

Gray manages to avoid Natsu’s questioning gaze for the rest of the lunch rush, and when he and Sting finally leave, Gray breathes a sigh of relief.

“Honestly, I think you downgraded,” Lucy says, appearing behind Gray in the break room and sitting down on the couch. “He’s cute.” She holds out a piece of paper to Gray and he groans, grabbing it before slumping down on one of the chairs.

“What does he want?” he grumbles, unfolding the note.

I swear I'm not stalking you, I had no idea you worked here. I hope you got home ok last night. I’m gonna be hanging out at Second Beach this evening, I'd love to see you again while we’re both sober. xo

Gray groans, dropping his head into his hands. After Joel had fallen asleep last night, Gray had read Natsu’s note one last time, then burned it and washed the ashes down the sink. The fifty dollars is hidden in his work locker, tucked in the sleeve of his extra shirt.

A touch on Gray’s wrist drags him out of his reverie and he looks up to see Lucy crouched down in front of him.

“I’m fine,” he says immediately, and she rolls her eyes at him.

“Go,” she says, gesturing to the note. “Yes, I’m nosy, and no, you’re not fine.” When Gray tries to protest, she shakes her head. “How many times have you covered for me when the twins have been sick, Gray? I owe you.”

“But I—”

“If Joel shows up, I’ll text you.” The look Lucy gives him is so knowing that Gray feels his cheeks start to burn. He glances down at where Lucy’s hand is resting on his arm – over the bruises that are hidden by the fabric of his shirt.

“I can’t,” Gray says softly. Lucy takes both of Gray’s hands in hers and squeezes them.

“Gray,” she says gently, “I just want to help.”

“I don’t need help,” he insists. A spark of anger ignites in the midst of his fear, and he pulls his hands away from her, pushing the chair back and standing up. “Everything’s fine. I just don’t want to see my stupid ex.”

Lucy sighs, pushing herself up to her feet. “Okay,” she says, pulling her hair back into a messy bun and straightening her apron. “But if you change your mind, I’m here.”

-----

Despite spending the rest of his shift convincing himself to ignore Natsu’s note, Gray finds himself walking down to Second Beach later that afternoon. Joel’s working until nine, so Gray calls and tells him the closest thing to the truth that he can – he's taking Bella to the beach to meet Lucy and the boys.

He convinces himself that the only reason he’s going is to apologize for his drunken mistake. It’ll be the last time they talk, because he promised Joel, and Joel trusts Gray, even when he doesn’t deserve it.

“You came!” Natsu’s face lights up as soon as he sees Gray, and he runs across the sand, dropping down to a crouch in front of Bella. She’s already hyper, so she launches herself at Natsu and starts licking his face while her tail whips back and forth.

“Bella, sit,” Gray says half-heartedly, but Natsu’s grinning and rubbing behind her ears and telling her what a good girl she is, so she ignores Gray in favor of the attention.

Eventually Gray gives up and just watches them. Considering it’s been five years, Natsu looks remarkably similar. His hair’s longer and his ears are pierced, but his smile is the same. He’s still got those freckles on his shoulders that Gray used to kiss, and the scar on his neck from the time his brother pushed him into a barbed wire fence, and...

Gray stops himself and looks away before Natsu can catch him staring.

Eventually Natsu stands up and tucks his hands into his pockets, then raises an eyebrow at Gray. “How’s your head?”

Gray snorts, tucking his hair behind his ear and shrugging. “Could be worse,” he says. “You?”

Natsu laughs, tipping his head up to watch a flock of gulls fighting each other over the scraps of somebody’s lunch. “I’ll live,” he says eventually. “I, uh... definitely haven’t had that much to drink in a while.”

Gray sighs, wishing he could just avoid this conversation entirely. “Me neither,” he says quickly. “I’m sorry I led you on. I wasn’t thinking, and I was surprised, and—”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Natsu interrupts, shaking his head. “I just... I was worried about you.”

“Well, don’t be,” Gray snaps. He exhales slowly, then shakes his head. “Sorry. It’s been a long day.”

Natsu nods, and they both stand in silence for a minute before Natsu gestures to a bench not far from them. “Can we... talk?”

“Aren’t they gonna miss you?” Gray asks, gesturing to a group of guys down at the edge of the water. He can see Sting’s spiky blond hair again – he's not in uniform, now – and a few other people that Gray vaguely recognizes from the bar last night.

“They’ll live,” Natsu says, reaching out for Gray’s hand. Gray pulls away from him, wrapping Bella’s leash around his wrist, and Natsu sighs. “Fuck, sorry. Can we... please?”

As soon as they sit down on the bench, Bella leans her head back into both of their laps, tongue lolling out of her mouth as she begs them to pet her. Natsu laughs, stroking the soft fur on top of her nose.

“What do you want to talk about?” Gray asks softly, watching a little girl chase the waves out along the beach, then giggle and run back to her mother, leaving wet footprints behind to get washed away by the next tide.

“I missed you,” Natsu says, looking sideways at Gray.

Gray snorts. “You’ve got a funny way of showing it,” he mutters, and when Natsu gives him a puzzled look, he rolls his eyes. “I haven’t heard from you in years,” Gray says, and he can’t help the bitterness that seeps into his voice. “You barely even recognized me.”

“I... what?” Natsu sounds genuinely confused, and Gray looks over at him, frowning. “Ellie, I—”

“Gray.”

“Gray, shit, sorry,” Natsu says, shaking his head. “You’re the one who stopped talking to me.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. “Erza and I—”

“Seriously?” Gray’s trying hard to keep his voice down, but hurt and anger are coloring his words. “You both stopped talking to me when I told you I was moving here with Joel, so—”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Natsu looks so taken aback that Gray stops mid-sentence and stares at him. “You told me ‘hope life treats you well,’ then never texted me again!”

“...what?”

“Look!”

Natsu holds out his phone and Gray stares down at it, then back up at Natsu again.

“No, I...” Gray closes his eyes and runs his hand over his face. This is a mistake. He shouldn’t be here. “I have to go.”

He stands up and Natsu makes a soft sound of protest, reaching out and grabbing his wrist. Gray tries to mask a wince as he pulls away, glaring at Natsu. He doesn’t miss the way Natsu’s eyes quickly drop to his arm.

“Gray, please,” Natsu says, standing up as well. He doesn’t reach out again, but his eyes are sad. “This isn’t right, something—I didn’t abandon you, I swear to god, you have to believe me.”

“I don’t have to do anything,” Gray says, tugging on Bella’s leash. She whines at him, thumping her tail in the sand. “You can’t just show up after five years of not talking to me—”

“I have texted you a hundred times!” Natsu insists, holding out his phone again. “Gray, I don’t know what’s going on, but I promise, I— ”

Gray shakes his head, taking another step backward. He needs to leave. He promised Joel, and Natsu is dangerous. He’s the spark that’s going to burn down everything Gray has built over the last five years.

“Gray, look at me,” Natsu begs, putting his hands out placatingly. “Please, I just—something doesn’t feel right, and I’m scared for you... you’re not acting like yourself—”

“You don’t know me!” Gray shouts. Bella looks back and forth between the two of them and lets out a soft, rumbling woof, then settles down next to Gray. People are starting to stare, and Gray can’t cry, not here. “There’s nothing wrong with me, just leave me alone.”

“Please,” Natsu whispers, and Gray stares at the ground. He doesn’t want to see the confused, pitying look on Natsu’s face. “I just want to help.”

“I don’t need help,” Gray says, fingers tightening on Bella’s leash.

“You... c’mon, Gray, you’ve got bruises, and you were crying, what the hell am I supposed to think?”

“I was drunk and I fucked up,” Gray insists. “This was a mistake. I have to go.” He doesn’t look at Natsu as he whispers, “please leave me alone.”

Then he turns on his heel and walks away, biting his lips as hard as he can and trying not to cry.

[aphrodaisyacs]

Chapter summary:

Tony (internally): Oh my god I bet he still hates me. Steve (internally): Oh my god I bet he still hates me.

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Category: Gen Fandom: The Avengers (Marvel Movies) Characters: Loki (Marvel), Thor (Marvel), Heimdall (Marvel), Wanda Maximoff, Bruce Banner, Thanos (Marvel), Stephen Strange, Tony Stark, James “Bucky” Barnes, Guardians of the Galaxy Team, Steve Rogers, T'Challa (Marvel), Peter Parker Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Shitstorm with a Happy Ending, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, POV Multiple, Loss of Limbs, Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Spoilers, Canon-Typical Violence

Links if you want to read on tumblr:

part 1

part 2

part 3

part 4

part 5

Can you believe I completed my first fanfic? Me neither.

Here’s the epilogue, aka the long awaited Steve & Tony reconciliation below:

Tony slept through the entire ride back to Earth.

It wouldn’t have been such a bad thing, per se, if it weren’t for the fact that he did it while slumped over the Milano’s main table in a hard stool.

Tony stretches, then winces at the series of cracks that follow.

He’s getting too old for this.

The arrival of the group from Titan receive a less than warm welcome from those in Wakanda. Which, fair enough, since previously all spaceships to Earth had meant bad news. The Wakandan soldiers only put down their weapons after everyone steps out of the Milano. Tony gets practically tackled and squeezed to death by Rhodey, and he can faintly register Heimdall suffering the same fate behind him, courtesy of Thor.

Turns out he had missed a laundry list’s worth of things since stowing away on that space donut, which was only what, a day ago? Bruce is back, so’s Thor and even Loki (who’s apparently blue now and no longer crazy and bent on taking over the world). Steve and the other ex-Avengers are here too, and Tony does his best to ignore the twinge in his chest at the sight of them.

Luckily for Tony and his aversion to long overdue conversations, Thanos’ latest army had left such a mess in Wakanda that everyone is needed to help with the clean-up. There isn’t much they can do about whatever the hell happened to the grass fields, so they focus their efforts on the scattered corpses and whatever alien tech had been left behind.

But unluckily for him, Steve is determined to talk to him, and Tony can’t believe he’d almost forgotten how damn stubborn the man can be. Steve has been unsubtly glancing at Tony’s way for the past ten or so minutes with that slight furrow between his brows, and Tony feigns ignorance and continues hauling alien corpses as if he wouldn’t rather launch himself into space again.

After all, he’s quite sure that Steve hates him.

Sure, Steve had said that he’d help if Tony needed him. But what if the moment he sees Tony again, he gets reminded of how much he hates the man who forced him to give up his shield, his symbol? The man who attacked his best friend, over something that said best friend was forced to do while tortured and brainwashed, even? Fucking hell, the more Tony thinks about it the more he feels like human garbage. He’s terrified at the idea of looking at Steve again for the first time since their fight, only for the other man to look back with hatred, disgust, disappointment or even apathy. And somehow apathy is the worst of the lot, because then it’d be as if Tony no longer means anything to him and that would hurt.

“Tony.”

Think of the devil.

Tony deliberately throws another alien corpse into the back of the clean-up vehicle before turning around.

“Cap!” he exclaims, with probably a bit too much forced enthusiasm. Steve gives him A Look, and yep, definitely too much enthusiasm, because he isn’t buying it at all.

An awkward silence hangs between them and Tony struggles not to fidget too much as he turns his gaze towards everything but Steve’s face. Come on Tony, say something, say something-

“So… I heard that you’ve teamed up with Loki over there. Guess your type is tall, dark and murderous, huh?”

Tony instantly regrets the words the moment they leave his mouth, because if the expression on Steve’s face is anything to go by, he doesn’t find the half-assed joke funny at all.

Figures Tony would ruin things before they can even begin.

The awkwardness of the silence now has a sour edge to it, and the idea of being launched into space again to fight a Thanos 2.0 is becoming more and more appealing.

Suddenly a different voice cuts in.

“Well gee, this is getting painful to watch,” Barnes huffs. He meets Steve’s withering glare with a raised eyebrow as he strides over to them. He turns to Tony.

“Now that I’ve recovered and gotten all the trigger words out-” Barnes heaves out a sigh and looks straight at Tony with a startling amount of sincerity. “You can arrest me. I promise I won’t run anymore.”

“Buck-” Steve begins, but stops when Barnes merely shakes his head. They wait for Tony’s response.

Tony takes in Steve’s tense stance and Barnes’ kicked puppy look. Instantly, any and all emotions he had been feeling at that point drain out of him, leaving him empty and exhausted.

“Look-” Tony begins, “I’ve had some time to think about it and I really shouldn’t have gone crazy on you like that. You were tortured for what, 70 years? I can’t stay mad at you for that, I mean, back in-” Tony’s words get stuck in his throat at the creeping memories of dark, cold and pain.“Back in Afghanistan I barely even lasted like two days before I…” Tony swallows. “Look- I’m sorry. For being hard on you.”

Barnes’ eyes widen.

“What are you-”

“Nuh! Uh! Shh! Let me finish!” Tony cuts in, and winces when Barnes visibly startles. “I’m not saying we go run off and get friendship bracelets or anything, but. I don’t hate you. HYDRA wanted my parents killed, and if it wasn’t you who did it, they would’ve ordered someone else to. So I don’t blame you for my parent’s deaths. I was an asshole to do that two years ago, and I’m sorry, okay?”

Tony’s heart is thumping loudly in his ears, from the dizzying exhilaration of finally getting to word-vomit the messy apology that had been stewing in his mind for too long. That, and also because he doesn’t know how Barnes will react.

Barnes blinks at him, but the act does nothing to stop the tears sliding down his face. He sniffs and shakes his head.

“No, you’ve got nothing to be sorry for.” His voice is unsteady with barely suppressed sobs. “It was still me that did it, my own hands. You had every right to be angry.”

Tony gives a tired smile, even as his chest twists with guilt. On the side, Steve doesn’t even bother trying to hide his pained expression at the sight of Bucky’s tears.

“Well, I’m not,” Tony says. “Not anymore. There wasn’t a point to staying angry at you. Got better things to do- suits to upgrade, Wakandan tech to play with, spiderlings to look out for…” He knows he’s rambling at this point, so he falls silent as he watches Barnes heave in shaky breaths while Steve rubs soothing circles on his back.

Eventually Steve leans in and says something to Barnes’ ear, to which makes Barnes straighten up. He gives Steve a parting hug, and nods at Tony after letting go. Barnes directs a final “don’t fuck this up” look at Steve, then walks away.

As Steve watches Bucky leave, he becomes acutely aware of the way his best friend had eased the discomfort of the silence hanging between him and Tony.

It’s a relief to see that Tony had forgiven Bucky. But if the way he is still refusing to look at Steve is any indication, then well… Steve can’t exactly blame Tony if he still hates him. Steve would understand if Tony never forgives him for what went down last time they saw each other. But at the same time, it’d feel wrong if he didn’t even attempt to mend bridges. Especially since for the first time in two years, they finally have a chance to talk.

“I thought that Earth lost its greatest defender,” Steve says before the silence can descend into awkwardness again. “But then it turns out that he went off to take care of the real problem. So thank you for saving the universe.”

Tony lightly scoffs at that and crosses his arms.

“Nah, that was mostly Gamora and Nebula. I helped, a little.” He finally looks at Steve, with a carefully neutral expression. “But you took care of things on your end too didn’t you?”

“Well,” Steve says. “That was mostly Wanda and Thor actually. But I guess I helped, a little.”

Tony lets out a small huff of laughter at that, and Steve can’t help the amused smile spreading across his face.

The silence between them is now companionable. Steve would like more than anything to bask in it a little longer, but he clears his throat.

“I’m sorry. For hurting you. And for hiding secrets from you.”

Tony is wearing an unreadable expression on his face, but he doesn’t say anything so Steve continues.

“I could’ve- This could’ve been avoided if I just told you about the stuff I found on Bucky from the SHIELD-HYDRA files. But I just- couldn’t. I thought it would be better if I didn’t. And I was wrong.”

Tony sighs and drops his arms.

“I’d be a hypocrite if I pretended that I didn’t do the same thing with Ultron. I knew you guys wouldn’t approve so I kept it all hush-hush. I thought that I’d show you after it was done, then I’d be proven right and you’d have nothing to complain about.”

Steve rubs his hand over his face. What a pair they make. No wonder it had taken so little for Zemo to tear apart the Avengers.

“And I guess…” he continues. “I also want to thank you for forgiving Bucky.”

Tony waves a hand dismissively.

“Like I’ve said, I’ve had some time to think on it.”

He glances over at Steve.

“But what are you gonna do now?”

It’s a loaded question, and they both know it. Being constantly on the run hasn’t been easy- it’s something that Nat had gotten used to while he and Sam kept pushing themselves forward, but he can see the toll it’s taking on Wanda, even without the additional tiptoeing she had to go through to see Vision. The Accords have diminished the Avengers in more ways than one, and Steve has to admit that they only won this fight against Thanos through pure luck. Things would be so much easier if they just worked together again, without the shadow of the Accords looming over their heads. And now the tentative thread of reconnection that he’s formed with Tony might get ruined again by the very thing that tore them apart.

“I don’t know,” Steve finally admits. “But… probably back to what I was doing before.” He shrugs. “There’s not much else a wanted criminal can do.”

For the first time since the conversation started, Tony looks him dead in the eyes.

“But you don’t have to be one.”

Steve sees the faint glimmer of barely concealed hope in Tony’s eyes, and suddenly it clicks. Of course- Tony doesn’t hate him. Or at least, not anymore. Somewhere along the way, he must’ve forgiven Steve as well. It makes sense now, the way Iron Man and the Avengers’ hunt for Captain America and the other ex-Avengers on Ross’ orders always seemed half-hearted at best. Tony’s always had a bigger heart than he’d let on.

“Tony, I- I’m sorry, I really am, but…” Something sinks in Steve’s chest at the way Tony’s expression begins closing off. “There’s no way things can go back to the way they used to be. The Accords- they’re gonna look at this-” He gestures in the direction where the group from Titan- the Guardians of the Galaxy, as they had introduced themselves as- are playfully competing to see which one of them can clear the most alien corpses. “-and see dangerous individuals who need to be controlled and contained, even though they helped save the universe.”

Tony exhales loudly.

“Well I think that given all the shit that just went down in the past 24 hours, they’re gonna have to update the Accords anyway. This whole thing’s gonna be a paperwork nightmare, but…” he trails off, and waves vaguely with a hand.

“Yeah,” Steve says, understanding what Tony’s too tired to articulate. Then, something suddenly crosses his mind.

“Loki and Bruce also said that Asgard’s been destroyed- there are escape pods filled with Asgardian refugees who were evacuated from the main ship after Thanos attacked. Chances are, they’re gonna be heading to Earth now that it’s safe.”

Tony blinks at that, then sucks in a breath and runs a hand over his face.

“Hoo boy I am not looking forward to that. Our government bigshots already get their panties in a twist when it’s refugees from a different country, but from an alien god planet? It’s gonna be a complete shitshow.”

Steve grimaces, because he knows Tony’s right.

“Well, at least Thor will be the one representing them, since he’s now their king,” Steve offers. That, and Thor has a track record of being charismatic and well-liked by the general public. Not that either of those things had helped Steve much at all, but he can only hope that things will turn out better for his friend. After all, he can’t even begin to imagine what it must be like to be forced to flee your own planet.

“Then will you be sticking around to help?”

Steve is aware of the way Tony is watching carefully for his reaction. He turns his gaze towards the devastated Wakandan fields, at everyone who is helping with the cleanup. He imagines standing with them, giving a statement to the general public on the intergalactic war that had taken place right under their noses. He looks at where Thor is laughing with the Guardians as he joins in with their games, and tries to imagine the myriad of ways in which the international governments would object to their very presence on Earth, would object to the Asgardian refugees on Earth. His mind is already spinning with counter-arguments for each and every one of them. He looks at the other Avengers scattered throughout the field, at the way they’ve seamlessly clicked back together as if they were never separated in the first place. He looks at where Princess Shuri is chattering excitedly with the young spider boy, and he looks at where the raccoon had broken off from the Guardians to speak to Bucky about something which makes his best friend frown.

Steve looks back at Tony. He’s not quite smiling, but it’s close.

“Maybe.”

He’ll see where things go from here.

[whitetrashphilosopher-blog]

Who virgin thoughts 1:4

Ask and you shall receive! My man Mickey is back!

He’s so awesome. He spent twelve months researching the Doctor with precious little information to go on and searching street corners for blue boxes all to find the woman he loves while his community turned on him. But that unfortunately brings me to the big problem with this episode… Sigh.

Look, this episode is leagues better than the Unquiet Dead, and not just because that episode sucked. This episode was good. It was interesting, creative and funny. The opening sequence was clever and dramatic. But… Let’s just get the bad stuff out of the way so we can focus on the good.

The Doctor is a prick. There, I said it. Mickey did nothing wrong. He has throughout both of the episodes he has been on so far, demonstrated that he is a very clever, compassionate and competent person. Yet, the Doctor treats him with nothing but derision and disrespect. Why?! Mickey didn’t do anything wrong! The Doctor refuses to even show him the barest minimum of respect you would show any stranger and use his proper name! Mickey was questioned concerning Rose’s disappearance five times. Five times! I’m not from the UK, I’m an American. I don’t know how things work over there. But here, a white woman going missing with a black man as the main suspect is a recipe for a lynching. Look, I believe the Doctor made an honest mistake when he brought Rose back a year late (or the TARDIS has a mind of its own and wanted the Doctor there to prevent the invasion, but I’ll get to that) however, you would think the least he could do after everything Mickey went through would be, I don’t know, a Goddamned apology, or at the very least, using his correct name! Is that really such a tall order?!

I have a lot more to say about Mickey's mistreatment, but I really don't like negativity, and I actually enjoyed this episode, so I'm going to move on to positives.

So, that opening sequence. I loved it. It was brilliantly crafted. The sound design was especially incredible. The background music put you on edge, but was still very subtle, so you got that sensation of being uncomfortable but not really knowing why. The emptiness of the street and hall was another factor that went unnoticed by the surface brain but still set the audience (me) on edge. But the true MVP of the scene was the actress who played Jackie Tyler.

Heh. That was enjoyable.

Jackie looks like a ghost haunting her own home in her first scene. It's clear the disappearance of her daughter has had a profound effect on her. Her shock and amazement are brilliantly portrayed. The actress also does an incredible job of balancing Jackie's relief to have her daughter returned to her and her frustration with that same daughter's odd behavior.

It's clear that Jackie loves her daughter more than anything on Earth. Based on the stacks of posters on her kitchen table we can assume Jackie has spent the last year searching for Rose the more conventional way (as she has no knowledge of the unconventional nature of Rose's disappearance) just as Mickey spent the last year searching for Rose by trying to find the Doctor.

What I love about this episode is how two characters that would be severely underdeveloped in a lesser drama, Rose's mom and boyfriend, are fleshed out and given great personalities here. Instead of being elevated pieces of scenery, given little thought and quickly discarded, Jackie and Mickey are very likeable, persistent, devoted and loving people, which comes through in their actions and dialogue. In a weaker show I would probably be rolling my eyes at Rose's family, thinking she should ditch them and just hang out with her new time traveling alien buddy for the foreseeable future. But instead I completely understand why Rose missed her mother in The End of the World and was so eager to see her in this episode. The two women have a very healthy and loving relationship that I greatly admire.

Oh yeah, this episode also has a plot.

One thing (of many) I really liked about this episode was that even though it's a two-parter that ended on a cliffhanger there was still a satisfying payoff within the episode. I hate TV episodes that are all build up with no payoff. I'm not asking for everything to be resolved by the time the credits roll, nor do I think that would even be a good thing, but if I'm going to give you an hour of my time you damn well better resolve at least one plotline. Give me some kind of satisfaction.

This episode is a brilliant example of how to create an enjoyable first half to a two-part episode. Is everything explained at the end of the episode? No. But we know the origin and reason for the spaceship crash. We know who the real threat is (not everything about them, but the basics, which is enough) and why they took the actions they did. All of these were satisfying resolutions that upped my anticipation for the resolutions that are sure to follow.

I thought the plot twist was really very clever. Gathering all the alien experts in the world to assassinate them isn't a bad first step for an invasion. I also immensely enjoyed the portrayal of the aliens. They looked like they were enjoying the hell out of their coup and it must have been infectious, because I enjoyed it too. These characters seemed exactly like the types to doll up a pig and call it a day when creating a fake alien and I love it. Rarely do you see alien invaders giggling and smiling at their comrades. Usually we get dour somber invaders. I much prefer these guys. If we're going to be conquered let's at least be conquered by someone with a sense of fun.

Yes, you are, and I support you.

My final observation before I wrap up this overly long post I had to rewrite half of becuase Tumblr mobile shut down while I was writing it 🙄. This marks the second time the Doctor landed the Tardis at a different time (or location) than he was aiming for. One might be tempted to chalk this up to the Doctor being a shitty driver, but I choose to believe the Tardis takes him to these places on purpose so the Doctor can prevent the catastrophes that nearly occurred at each one. I don't actually know anything about what the Tardis is or how it works though other than stuff I've read on Tumblr (Yeah I'm spoiling the hell out of this show for myself. I can't help it.) so take my theories with a grain of salt.

[mystery-moose]

BIG OL’ WIP LIST

List all the things you’re currently working on in as much or little detail as you’d like, then tag some friends to see what they’re working on.

I got tagged by @philosoverted, who has been wonderfully supportive of all her friends’ writing even when it’s for fandoms she isn’t even a part of. Because she’s fantastic.

I’m going to be kind of vague with some of these, though, because I like to preserve some semblance of surprise for anyone who happens to be following me for writing!

I’d put them behind a cut but apparently tumblr hates readmores right now? So instead I’ll just apologize for this long post that’s about to break your dash please i’m sorry it’s not my fault tumblr sucks eggs

AMatMMP

This is the direct sequel to Angus McDonald and the Flight of the Flying V. It is very long, not the longest thing I’ve ever written (yet) but certainly the longest thing I’ll have finished when it’s finally done. It’s also very complicated, because I like mysteries and plots and hate myself. I especially hate what I’ve done by setting it so close after the first one because it means I can’t write anything else with these characters until I’ve finished this.

But I swear to you and God and whoever is listening: this summer it’s happening.

Shelter

Think of everything I’ve ever written. Thematically and emotionally. Now, multiply it by a thousand and make it even more self-indulgent. You should have some idea of what Shelter is. It’s not plot-heavy (thank christ) and it doesn’t have any action or adventure. But it is everything I’ve connected with over the past year and a half, made into a single super-specific-to-me thing that stretches into a hazy future that I might never actually finish. But the fun thing is I don’t have to finish it, necessarily; I just want to write enough to get to the One Big Moment, the thing I’ve been thinking about since, oh, a year ago. That’ll act as enough of a catharsis that I can feel good about posting it, if I never end up finishing the rest.

Basically this is the epitome of me being Back On My Bullshit. I adore it. Someday soon, I hope to start posting it. Probably after AMatMMP, though.

Money and Fame (working title)

A few months ago I came up with a little adventure for Taako and Kravitz to go on. I really liked it at the time, but I waffled on writing it because I felt like... well, it involves Sazed, and I thought I might be being too charitable to him? But I haven’t been able to get a couple scenes of it out of my head, so it’s almost certainly getting written at some point. But it’ll likely be a much shorter, more focused thing than my usual plot-heavy junk. No flashbacks in this one, I don’t think!

The Lucretia Longfic (title TBD)

I got a bee in my bonnet last summer (thanks to @epersonae and her posse) and wrote, like, twenty thousand words of a Lucretia thing. I’ve since realized that it is Bad, and needs so, so much more time than I was giving it. It’ll happen at some point, I’m sure -- I like Lucretia too much to never finish it -- but it’s... she’s probably the best character with the strongest arc in the entirety of TAZ, and she deserves the best I’ve got, and my best so rarely feels like enough for her.

Candlenights

This is set after AMatMMP, so it’s getting finished after AMatMMP. It’s a meet-the-fam fic, with almost zero conflict whatsoever, but I’ve since realized it needs a different third act and I haven’t figured out how to end the damn thing. I’ve got a few thousand words for it already, but as soothing as I find writing it, this might not get finished for a while.

Fighting Words

This was gonna be a simple little series of one-shots for each of the THB (and maybe the IPRE) just gettin’ into some scraps. It’s still going to be that thing, but it’s just been set aside for a long time in favor of, uh, every other project I’ve got going. I’ll get back to it when I feel like posting something in short order, I’m sure.

The Great Taako-Burnsides Fight (title TBD)

I wrote a whole outline for a thing where Taako gets into a fight with Magnus about Lucretia, and then Magnus literally throws him out of his house and Taako feels really bad about it for like a week and Magnus fumes for a bit and then there’s a big ol’ forced sit-down with Lucretia and it’s yet another vision of mine for how Taako and Lucretia could ever, like, be okay again. It’s like the third version of this idea that I’ve plotted out (the Lucretia Longfic and Bygones being the other two) because apparently I’m just really into semi-forgiveness, as a concept. The funny thing? I’ve kind of settled on one that’s my personal “canon” for how it happens, and the other two are just AUs. I don’t normally do that! Normally when I establish a personal “canon” that’s all I write. TAZ has been really weird for me, in a lot of ways.

Anyway, it might get written at some point? It’s not super long, in the outline I’ve got. But there’s so many other things above it at this point, I think it’ll only happen soon if I get a real hankerin’ for it.

Cycle 95

This is a semi-follow up to Cycle 71, but it’s a different thing. The gang ends up on a planet where the Light is being held by a farming town terrorized by raiders, and have been bullied by them for generations. They have to help them fight the bandits to get the Light. (Taako is frustrated and suggests just taking it by force, but the townsfolk make it clear they would die fighting.) They end up training the townsfolk over the course of a year, defeat the bandits, and save the town. Their victory is an inspiration to surrounding communities, who create their own bands of protectors clad in red, and long after the IPRE has left, their legacy remains in the peace they create.

So this is straight up some Seven Samurai bullshit, because why not? The twist is that the town elder is something of a prophet, and as the IPRE train the townsfolk, he has a solitary moment with each of the seven in which he gives them advice that foreshadows what they’ll go through on Abeir-Toril. It’s not a lot, certainly nothing that changes how anything goes down, but I enjoy the cutesy foreshadowing and reassurance of who each character has developed into. (The only person who doesn’t get one is Taako. He avoids the elder like the plague. He gets his own moment, to himself.)

I will almost assuredly write this someday. Probably soon. It’s just so much fun to me. And it won’t be that long, either! Comparable to Cycle 71, I’d imagine. As with anything in the Stolen Century, I’d want to keep it short. There’s just too much room to lose yourself in that arc, any single year could be a hundred thousand words, and I just refuse to fall into that hole.

AMatItCJ (working title)

This is the “Angus at Neverwinter University solves a mystery with the help of his college buddies/Persona-style Investigation Team” and it is VERY loosely plotted but will almost certainly be VERY long and TOO complicated and I REFUSE to write it, do you hear me, I REFUSE.

(I’ve got character outlines and a basic plot and a few flashbacks and a final parlor scene and that’s basically it. I’ve actually thought about collaborating with someone on it, but I’m afraid I’d be too much of a control freak about it. This one might never happen.)

TaakoQuest (title TBD)

Kravitz is taken by a demonic entity anathema to the Raven Queen and is trapped inside a plane where no celestial entity or emissary can venture, purely to taunt her. Lup and Barry are helpless. Every other member of the IPRE and the founding Bureau is long dead. The Raven Queen asks Taako to do it. So he does.

This one literally came to me in the car ride home tonight, when I was thinking about Luster and how much I enjoyed the Taako-as-scientist scenes in that fic. I might write down some bits and pieces for it right now. It won’t be long. Maybe won’t even be multi-chapter. It’s just yet another exercise in showing Taako caring for other people through action, and in which he gets to act like a total baller.

I have very few settings, apparently.

This’ll almost certainly get written at some point, but maybe not soon. I’ve still got school stuff to do, but I like the bits I’ve thought of enough that I’ll almost certainly inflict them on you all at some point. But don’t worry, it won’t be nearly as emotionally harrowing as Luster. I can be cruel, but not THAT cruel.

THE ULTIMATE MOST SELF-INDULGENT GARBAGE EVER WRITTEN

I love Pyre.

I love schmoopy, slow-burn romance.

I will probably finish this someday.

I will never post it.

THAT’S IT

I’m almost certainly forgetting one or two, but I’m pretty sure that this is all I’ve got percolating in my head and WIP folder right now.

I’m sorry it’s so long, and I’m extra sorry I’m so bad at writing things regularly.

But I’m not sorry I don’t post things until they’re finished. I learn from my mistakes. I will never leave my readers hanging again!!

oh i guess i have to tag some people huh

uhhhhhhh @orchidcactus @fistfulofgammarays @anonymousalchemist @marywhal aaaaaaaand @emi--rose

TELL ME YOUR SECRETSSSS

[bigherosixfeels]

Big Roommates REVIEW

SPOILERS BELOW

Well, the US is still waiting for new episodes of the show to come out. A new programming strategy is causing the delay, but the UK are getting these new episodes. It's frustrating, but I do hope this strategy ends up being good for the network.

For those wondering, yes, I do plan on reviewing each episode of the show. I like being able to talk about what happened and voicing some opinions at the end. So let's do this!

The episode begins in the school cafeteria with Fred and Gogo looking at mystery loaf which not only looks disgusting, but it also moves like Jell-O and I'm concerned as to why this is being served at the school. Although, according to Baymax, it won't cause any permanent damage to eat it which is reassuring enough to Fred until he tastes cilantro. 

Meanwhile, Honey Lemon is reloading her chem purse at the table which is worrisome to Hiro, but fun for her since she gets to be around both her best friends and chemistry. Wasabi then rushes to the table in relief to see that Honey Lemon is alive. Apparently she had tried to make instant ice after her roommate made lemonade and she froze up her entire apartment (including her roommate). How...how did Regina get to...nevermind. 

The gang is discussing where Honey Lemon could live for the time being. Fred mentions that Gogo has her own place, but Gogo shoots back mentioning his mansion. It would work out, but his parents insist on doing in-depth three year background checks for overnight guests. Honestly, given how rich they are, I don't blame them for taking precautions like that. Gogo tries to explain to Honey that she wouldn't like her place due to it being in a sketchy neighborhood, but Honey being the optimistic person that she is doesn't think it'll be that bad. Gogo then caves and agrees to letting her stay at her place. Honey is continuing to show her optimism and there's a discussion of whether or not the glass is half-full or half-empty. Wasn't there a Tumblr post explaining how that works? If liquid is added, it's half-full. If liquid is taken out it's half-empty. Something like that?

Everyone is happy to help Honey Lemon move in. Wasabi notes that there's a lot of jaywalkers in the neighborhood. Honey is happy to meet new faces and bedazzle a biker's motorcycle. The biker, who is properly introduced as Felony Carl, loves the glitter because it shows how comfortable he is with his masculinity. It's official. Felony Carl is amazing. 

We're then introduced to Dibbs, a guy that walks proud, but is a terrible thief. He does manage to get a hold of an elderly lady's purse for about a second before instant karma literally hits him in the face and the purse gets back into her possession. He then spots Honey Lemon's chem purse out in the open. Rather than an easy snag, the purse ends up on a taxi and he jumps on the cab and falls off the car before making a run. 

It's now night time and we're at an abandoned warehouse. Wait. Is this the same warehouse from the movie? If so, that's a great callback! Anyway, Dibbs talks to a rat about his (probably only) successful attempt at stealing. He doesn't understand that this isn't a normal purse, but his attempts to open it are cut short due to a couple people coming in. 

We're reintroduced to Alistair Krei and his assistant! I was wondering when we'd be seeing him again. The reasoning for them being in the warehouse is that he's hiding something. A supposed "better version" of Hiro's neurotransmitter. Basically if you wear it, you can control anything linked to it with your mind. The only reason this version is better to him is because it's just different enough so he can't get sued. Congratulations, Krei. You're losing brownie points with me. 

Overhearing that it'll be worth billions, Dibbs successfully steals it for himself. Unfortunately for him, the chem purse gets stuck and chemicals are released onto Dibbs, covering his entire body. He's now what is considered to be a monster. 

It's now the next morning in Gogo's (and now Honey Lemon's) apartment. Honey is settling into the apartment, opening a box that releases an incredible amount of butterflies. They must be so happy to be free. The girls have rather different daily activities. Gogo punching a punching bag interferes with Honey's focus to meditate. Honey adding cute stickers to the fridge and everything inside it irks Gogo. Gogo accidentally destroys some of Honey's flowers. Honey's snoring causes Gogo to not get any sleep. The iconic Oh My God They Were Roommates™ vine is on loop in my head. 

Later on, the gang (minus Fred) are at the cafe and Honey is asking if anyone has seen her chem purse. Gogo immediately believes it was stolen, but Honey doesn't think that's the case. Due to the lack of sleep, Gogo is exhausted and lulled to sleep by Baymax's calm music. The relaxing moment is broken by Fred who excitedly bursts through the door. He's ecstatic over the fact that there's a monster in the city. Nobody else believes this (despite the news report) because monsters aren't real. Of course, Fred won't let the matter drop unless the others check it out. Hiro decides to join Fred on this monster hunt. Meanwhile, the others are headed for Gogo and Honey Lemon's apartment. Baymax proceeds to pick up a sleeping Gogo and cradle her in his arms which is the most wholesome content I think we've gotten so far. Seriously, that was adorable! 

Hiro and Fred are investigating for any clues that a monster has been around. Hiro steps in some chemical goop. Fred gets a sample on his finger and sniffs it up his nose. Ew. Then he (why did he do this) took it out the other nostril and put it on Hiro's face. WHY. Fred then proceeds to sing a song about how he was right about the monster which doesn't amuse Hiro in the slightest. The sound of screams has both of them jumping into actions (well, Fred is still singing, but you get the point). 

Back at the apartment, Gogo has awoken from her nap and there has been no luck with finding Honey's purse. Gogo keeps explaining how is was probably (and it was) stolen, but Honey doesn't want to accept her negative views. The girls begin the argue; Gogo stating it's hard to respect someone who's happy all the time and Honey stating it's hard to understand why she's always so serious and cool. They storm off, but screaming from outside catches everyone's attention. 

The monster is confidently walking in the street and Big Hero 6 is officially in action for the episode! Baymax scans him, stating what we already know, but he does have fragments of Honey's purse within the goop. Honey feels concerned for him, but the mention of a purse has him nervous. His attempt to flee is quickly cut short on two occasions. While he clearly doesn't have the hang of his new abilities, the team doesn't have an easy time against him. 

Hiro and Fred join the fight. Fred comes up with the name Globby for our villain, which doesn't settle well with him. He asks the cliche "Can things get any worse?" and is immediately hit by a bus.

Taking Globby down is on pause for the time being and Honey is upset knowing that she should have been more careful with her stuff. She apologizes numerous times, even after Gogo points out she's doing so too much. Our usual bubbly, cheerful character has hit a rough patch. 

Back inside the apartment, Wasabi is trying to remove goop from his suit while he, Gogo and Fred watch the news. Fred considers naming Globby his legacy. Meanwhile, Hiro is finishing up making Honey a new chem purse, but this doesn't please her. Gogo takes note of her friends’ somber mood and attempts to cheer her up. What she says doesn't get through to Honey and Baymax tries to help with a hug. That also doesn't work and Honey is ready to "face the darkness of reality". 

The gang watches as Honey begins to create a compound that will un-stick the goop from Globby. Honey mentions that her beaker is half-empty, but Gogo argues that it's half-full. The discussion from earlier in the episode has reversed on the characters, leaving them all surprised. 

We cut to Globby at a restaurant with Felony Carl. He mentions that he's having a hard time with his now mutated body (he grabbed a cat instead of a spoon). Felony Carl takes note of the headband that Globby admits he doesn't know how to use it, but seeing a photo of Krei sparks a new idea for him. 

We get a quick shot of Krei Tech (rebuilt and everything!). And what is Krei up to now? Getting a statue of himself made. Of course. During the process of getting his sculpture finished, Globby breaks through the window and takes the statue before realizing his mistake and kidnapping Krei himself. 

Meanwhile, Honey is continuing to make an un-sticky ball. Her negative attitude has yet to fade and Baymax suggests that a pleasant image may help. As he says this, some of Honey's butterflies flutter around Baymax. Gogo considers that a sign, but Honey doesn't want to see it that way. 

Wasabi gets everyone's attention to watch the news which is about what happened to Krei earlier. I'm really glad that we're hearing his assistant talk and getting a feel for her personality. She seems nice and a little funny too. 

Globby has Krei stuck to him as he climbs to the top of a building. He refuses to let him go until he explains how the headband works. Krei tries to get the neurotransmitter back while Bluff Dunder covers the current situation on live TV. Krei explains that all Globby has to do is think for it to work naturally. 

Big Hero 6 comes to his rescue and immediately jumps into action. Bluff Dunder continues his constant updates. Honey offers Globby the chem ball that will help un-stick him. Globby is visibly stressed because all he wants to do is concentrate on thinking. He knows he's been making some bad choices lately and Baymax suggests positive reinforcement. The group looks to Honey who is unsure if she should, but Gogo assures her that her upbeat attitude takes getting used to, but it's good for her. These words finally get through to Honey and the girls share a quick hug before Honey starts to help Globby. Globby doesn't want to accept what she has to say at first because no one has ever believed in him. However, hearing that he can dedicate himself to making the best out of his situation and that he's special because no one else has his abilities inspires him. 

Despite accepting himself as he is, Krei wants his prototype back and his attempt to un-stick Globby almost costs him his life when he slips off the building. Globby manages to use his new abilities to save Krei, earning an awkward thanks from him. Globby thinks all the thanks goes to Honey since she believes in him. He announces that his days of being a purse thief are over, which pleases Honey until he states what he'll be doing now. He's determined to be a super villain, making a sticky escape. The episode ends with him smacking himself into a window. 

Overall, I thought this was a pretty enjoyable episode. There was humor, heart and an interesting origin story for our new super villain. 

I really liked the character development that we got for Honey Lemon. I'm glad that we got to see a side of her that wasn't her usual self. Her negative attitude is a complete 180 for her. I enjoyed that Gogo continuously tried to help her feel better until it actually worked. Despite the differences that they had prior to Honey being sad, Gogo put that aside and was later on able to get through to her. Just...ugh that was amazing. 

Globby is an interesting character. He's pretty comical throughout the episode, so he doesn't strike me to be a major threat for the time being. Of course, I'm sure we'll be seeing him again (If the description for Failure Mode is correct, we'll be seeing him pretty soon too.) I imagine once he learns to get a better hang of his abilities, he'll be more of a challenge. As I said earlier, I like that Globby got a little origin story of how he became Globby and it'll be cool to see him again. I'm glad that there's a good reason for the chemical compound being attached to him.

Speaking of the neurotransmitter, it was nice to see Krei again. I've always been indifferent to his character since the movie and I'm still indifferent now. He's still as money hungry as he was when we were first introduced to him so I'm not entirely surprised he's still like that. I have to admit that I'm disappointed to see that he has created a "better version" of Hiro's neurotransmitter. He wasn't able to accept Hiro's rejected offer and knowing that he's pretty much copied it continues to show his arrogance. I don't feel bad that Globby stole his prototype. Still, I can always appreciate seeing a familiar face and if he ends up building Tadashi Hamada Hall (I really hope that happens in the show), he may earn those brownie points back. 

I loved our side characters from this episode! Felony Carl was such a highlight to this episode. He may be a one-off character (or we might see him again who knows), but he's so great. I'm also glad that we finally heard Krei's assistant talk. I'm sure we'll see more of her because we'll be seeing more of Krei. 

I'm really liking the humor in the show too. There's always just the right amount of it and each joke is played out well. Wasabi had some funny lines. I liked Honey Lemon's "It's time to face the darkness of reality" line. I got a kick out of the scene where Globby took Krei's statue before realizing he didn't take Krei himself and came back to get him. Bluff Dunder was pretty funny during the last scene too. 

I also I liked when some goop got on Baymax and Wasabi said, "Nobody does that to Baymax and gets away with it!" Lines like that are small things that I'm happy to hear. 

I'm still not over Baymax cradling Gogo while she slept. That was so pure and adorable and I loved it very much. 

The style of the show continues to grow on me more and more witch each episode. I love the character designs for the new characters and I think Krei and his assistant look pretty good. The animation flow isn't bothering me either. Every once in awhile, the lip syncing is just a tad bit awkward, but it's easy to look past (for me anyway). The scenery looks so good! This style honestly brings San Fransokyo to life. 

On a scale of one to ten...I'd rate Big Roommates an 8!

[corellian-smuggler]

THE LAST JEDI SPOILERS REACTION - SPOILERS BELOW

So as you may know, I made the enormous mistake of seeing The Last Jedi in theaters Thursday night. I don’t know what on earth I was thinking, because TFA left me angry and upset and all of the promo leading up to this film was horrific. But I reasoned that I would need to at least be informed--being on tumblr with everyone inevitably arguing about it and without having seen the film would have been miserable. I also wanted to see the movie without spoilers so that my opinions wouldn’t be influenced prior to viewing. But also, despite having very low expectations, I couldn’t help but have just the TINIEST hope that maybe it wouldn’t be quite as bad as I was anticipating? Maybe at least I would be able to enjoy the storylines of Rey, Finn, and Poe? Maybe Luke’s role wouldn’t be THAT bad? And of course, I wanted to see Carrie Fisher in her final film.

As a result, I found myself in the theater with my twin brother, reasonably pessimistic but just the tiniest bit--despite myself--hopeful.

I have never suffered so much during a film in my entire life. There were multiple moments that made me consider getting up and walking out.

If you don’t want spoilers, DO NOT CONTINUE READING, because I am about to detail exactly why I was so upset.

1. The blatant assassination of Luke Skywalker’s character. Yes, he dies at the end of the film, but they killed him long before that. I don’t know who I was supposed to be seeing onscreen, but it was NOT Luke Skywalker. I’m starting with this because it was, in my opinion, the biggest, and most inexcusable transgression made by Rian Johnson (though don’t worry, there are multiple very close runners-up!). I started crying because of what was happening in front of me. First of all, the fact that Luke’s “first instinct” upon sensing the conflict in his nephew was evidently to ignite his lightsaber to kill him is without fail the most disgusting obliteration of a character I’ve ever witnessed. Who wrote this script??? Did they just not ever watch the original trilogy? The entire point of Luke’s character was his REFUSAL TO GIVE UP ON PEOPLE, and his UNWAVERING DEDICATION TO HIS FAMILY, and his INSISTENCE that his father could be saved. Did they miss the fact that even though Vader had ALREADY murdered countless innocent people and served the Emperor and aided in the establishment of a tyrannical, oppressive fascist regime, Luke’s IMMEDIATE reaction was “I won’t fight him, he’s my father, I have to save him.” Did they miss the part where Luke chose to THROW AWAY HIS LIGHTSABER rather than give in to fear and hatred and violence, even if it meant his father killing him? Even if it meant the rebellion’s demise? Did they miss the part where Luke’s FAITH--in humanity, in his family, in the Jedi and the Light Side of the Force--IS THE ENTIRE PURPOSE OF HIS CHARACTER?? THE ENTIRE PURPOSE OF STAR WARS?? THE ENTIRE POINT OF THE ORIGINAL TRILOGY?!?! THE TRIUMPH OF FAITH, WITH LUKE BEING THE VERY EMBODIMENT OF IT????? And for some reason I’m suppose to sit there and believe that Luke’s first impulse in sensing the “conflict” in Ben--his own nephew, who hadn’t even done anything bad yet--was to KILL HIM??? To kill HAN AND LEIA’S CHILD?!?!?!?! What the ever loving FUCK kind of travesty is that? Character assassination doesn’t even seem an adequate term for what this is.

And that’s just ONE PART OF IT. There’s also the fact that his nephew and Snoke are running around DESTROYING THE GALAXY and BLOWING UP PLANETS and Luke is THE ONLY PERSON IN THE GALAXY WHO CAN DEFEAT THEM, and he DOESN’T CARE. Rey literally shows up and tells him that Leia is begging for his help, that there are two powerful Dark Side Force wielders that they’re powerless to fight, and that Han is DEAD. And Luke doesn’t fucking care. Sorry, but a Luke Skywalker who doesn’t race off to help his loved ones is not Luke Skywalker at all. Once again, this is 100% entirely and completely incompatible with all three films of the OT. Add to that the fact that Luke spends the entire first 2/3 of the film bitterly sneering at himself--about how stupid he was, mocking the very notion of Luke Skywalker as a hero, shitting all over the Jedi, calling himself a vain, ignorant failure... It honestly felt like a personal attack. It was literally the way that angry, dangerous male Star Wars fans who insist that the rebels were terrorists and glorify the Empire and say that the Jedi were no better than the Sith talk about Luke: with spite and disdain and cruelly irreverent, angry scorn designed to cow and hurt the people who think of Luke and the rebels as heroes. Except it wasn’t some reddit post. It was happening onscreen and coming out of Luke’s own mouth.

I honestly, truly do not understand how any fan of the original trilogy could ever think that Luke Skywalker would be tempted to murder his nephew, or turn his back on the Jedi, or be unwilling to go to Leia after learning Han is DEAD, or just not care about the fact that without his intervention, billions of people would die or be enslaved. I was literally crying tears of fury and horror and disbelief and grief. And then, what? He has 5 seconds of remorse and uses the Force to project himself across the galaxy to buy time for the resistance, and then he just? Dies? 

What the fuck was the point of having him be in the movies, then? What was the point of including him in the films if all that they wanted him for was to destroy his legacy, make him out to be a coward, rip every single thing that was ever true about Luke Skywalker to shreds, and then give him a quick “redemption” and kill him off like he was nothing? He just fucking dies off on that island after years of hiding from his problems, and even at the very end insisting to Leia that he won’t try to save Ben, that he’s not a hero, that he’s nothing? I am just, so angry that my anger is the only thing standing between me and utter devastation. I literally watched Rian Johnson murder Luke Skywalker and piss on his grave. He did everything in his power to kill any notions that anyone had of Luke Skywalker as the hero he is.

2. Kylo Ren apologism. This was easily the second biggest thing I had a problem with. First and foremost, the fact that they had the AUDACITY to write off his fall to the Dark Side on LUKE SKYWALKER OF ALL PEOPLE. They were so desperate to make him “sympathetic” and “relatable”--and to contrive some bullshit reason for Luke to be in exile--that they decided to make LUKE be at fault?!?! It wasn’t enough that they had to imply in interviews that Han and Leia were “neglectful,” now they also have to tell us that Luke was trying to murder him? First of all, that still doesn’t excuse mass murder, let’s just be clear on that. NOTHING they could have written would have been a valid excuse for what Kylo Ren has done. Nothing would make it “ok” or understandable. 

So once again, the writers have gone out of their way to make one of the OT heroes look like a piece of shit for the sake of the new characters, no matter what a disservice it is to the original trilogy, to the fans who love it, and to the characters who MAKE Star Wars STAR WARS. I literally wish I could look Kathleen Kennedy and Rian Johnson in the eyes and demand that they try to explain themselves. I wish I could look them in the eyes and ask how they could have EVER thought it was acceptable to suggest that Luke “failed” his nephew, that he tried to kill him. I want to ask them to explain to Star Wars fans why they thought it was ok to sacrifice Luke Skywalker to the Kylo Ren storyline--to destroy Luke to create that monster.

And that’s not even speaking of the fact that they are literally asking the audience to sympathize with a fascist murderer. Half of the movie was trying to get viewers to “rethink” what they thought they knew about Kylo Ren, to see that it wasn’t his fault, that it was awful LUKE who tried to kill him, and what would we have done? Kylo Ren aids in blowing up billions of innocent people. He orders the death of a whole village of innocent people. He serves the supreme overlord of a paramilitary organization bent on conquering and enslaving the galaxy. He might not be officially Sith, but he IS the Dark Side, which is, in case the writers forgot, a PERVERSION of the Force and pure EVIL. How DARE Rian Johnson, in a reality where we turn on the news daily to find school shooters (which Kylo Ren has done), terrorist attacks (which Kylo Ren has participated in), rapists (which Kylo Ren has symbolically done), racists (Kylo Ren aids a racist military regime), and entitled, wrathful white pissbabies (which Kylo Ren is), and ask us to SYMPATHIZE with the embodiment of ALL of those things??? How can he dare expect us to have empathy for this man? And at the expense of LUKE SKYWALKER? 

And then there’s the fact that not once, but TWICE Kylo Ren is referred to as “just a boy,” first by Snoke and then by Luke. Funny, Kylo Ren was a grown man when he destroyed the Jedi Order, when last I checked. But please, tell me again how he’s only a CHILD, just like society does every time any twenty/thirty-something white man rapes/kills/shoots people. Snoke also says that Kylo Ren has “too much of Han Solo’s heart” in him. Now, granted this is coming from Snoke, so it was most likely just to manipulate and torment Kylo Ren, but nevertheless, as it was consistent with the near constant theme of infantilizing and humanizing Kylo Ren, it ENRAGED ME. Kylo Ren has not one single SLIVER of Han Solo’s heart in him. If he did, he would never have joined the Dark Side, or the remnants of the Empire. He would never have murdered countless people in cold blood. He would never have participated in a genocide. He would never have tortured innocent civilians. He would never have KILLED HIS FATHER or have ordered his army to KILL HIS MOTHER. Kylo Ren is NOTHING like Han Solo.

The forced romance with Rey and Kylo was absurd. First of all, I swear to you there are countless shitty fanfics that did this exact same fucking premise of the Force connection--right down to the lack of clothes--so literally we were fed bad fanfiction. Kylo Ren tortured Rey, killed her mentor before her eyes, mortally wounded her only friend, terrified her, invaded her mind while taunting her that he could take whatever he wanted and could invade all her private thoughts and feelings in a scene heavily coded as a metaphorical rape, and almost killed her in the last film. And yet, we’re supposed to believe that because, oh, that’s right, LUKE APPARENTLY TRIED TO KILL KYLO REN, that just excuses all those things Ren did to her and now she has romantic feelings for him? Someone please call up all the women in the world who have been beaten or raped and tell them about something traumatic that had happened in their abuser’s past; they’ll be sure to have romantic feelings for them then!!!! The scene where he had his shirt off?! As though he’s some desirable heartthrob eye candy, and not a WHINY, ENTITLED FASCIST DARK SIDE MURDERER and the VILLAIN of the franchise???? It was sickening.

And yet, I’m not even sure what any of it was trying to accomplish? They went through all that trouble to woobify him and make him “sympathetic” (*derisive snort*), but then he still ended up succeeding Snoke as the new Emperor 2.0 and establishing himself as DECIDEDLY evil, even heartlessly ordering the death of his own mother, and Luke AND LEIA now both said that he can’t be redeemed. So what was the point of all that woobification??? Because now rey will try to redeem him in IX? Yeah, hard pass on that, thanks.

Someone please explain to me why they are literally plot point for plot point giving Rey Luke’s exact story, but also at the same time ripping that story away from Luke as though he hadn’t already done it all before? 

3. Rey as a result was entirely unlikable in the film. I went from enjoying her character in the last movie despite all the film’s flaws and the fact that they destroyed Han, Luke, and Leia for her sake, to simply hating her. She came across as ridiculously stupid--walking straight back into the custody of the First Order mere days after having escaped, because now she’s in love with the man who violated and tortured her and killed her father figure and blew up multiple planets? Wtf? And not only that, but what had been a feminist achievement--a female protagonist of a Star Wars film--was turned into a young woman “understanding” the pain of a fascist murderer and “fixing him” with her love. But failing? So again..... what was the point? To make Rey look stupid? Well, they succeeded. It basically just felt like Rian Johnson getting away with putting his own weird sexual fantasies onscreen as much as he could get away with.

4. Finn and Rose were entirely irrelevant. Finn was BLATANTLY demoted from co-protagonist to supporting role, and his side-plot with Rose was so sloppily done that it was obvious his character was an afterthought at best. But we know why that is (racism. It’s because racism). Their little side-trip to casino planet was visually incompatible with the rest of the Star Wars films, rushed, poorly executed, and, above all else, entirely pointless. They accomplished literally nothing and would have died had it not been for Whatsherface Holdo. And that kiss at the end was so out of nowhere that I was literally in disbelief. They’d literally only known each other for a few hours, and yet somehow we’re already having talk of “saving what we love” and kissing???? It was so uncomfortable and fell so flat and was so obviously only included to shove Finn out of the way so that Rey could want Kylo Ren and try to soothe his Man PainTM. Because, once again, racism. Finn’s entire sequence of waking up, by the way, serving as cheap, demeaning comedy at his expense, was weird and unnecessary. Someone please explain to me why they needed to have him walk around base naked and squirting water all over the place? What even was that? Another moment that didn’t feel like it belonged in a Star Wars movie. Oh, and his being framed once again as a traitor and a deserter for trying to get off the ship in the escape pod. Uh, hey so, pretty sure Finn isn’t ENLISTED and therefore he wasn’t DESERTING, first of all, and second of all, pretty sick of this trend of making the heroes look like cowards while trying to make the villains look like victims.

5. Just general bad writing, mischaracterization and sloppy work. Literally nothing happened for the whole movie. The resistance ran away from the First Order for like two hours of screen time while Luke milked alien animal titty and sneered at Rey and refused to help his sister. Then the resistance almost escaped but didn’t and had to keep running away. Then the resistance almost escaped again but didn’t and had to keep running away again. And then they again were almost safe but weren’t, and finally had to run away for good. It was so underwhelming that I literally couldn’t even believe it was approved. Who signed off on this? The whole thing was just a ship running away from another ship with lots of mentions of “almost out of fuel!!!!” and then getting in a different ship to keep fleeing. 

Also, Leia did literally NOTHING in the whole movie except almost die, slap Poe in the face, stun Poe, and look sad. So? K cool. Also they made it a point to say that they were broadcasting a distress call with Princess Leia’s personal code “because people believe in Leia,” but then they said the distress call was received and ignored by their allies. Indicating that no one actually believes in or cares enough about Princess fucking Leia to go to her aid. Because they just really had to drive in the knife that the OT characters are irrelevant and sad distortions of what they once were. Oh, and as a result evidently the First Order was able to blow up multiple planets and no one else in the galaxy tried to stand up and stop them from trying to take power?

Poe for some reason was characterized as this trigger happy, impulsive, irresponsible hothead who blundered around a lot and almost got the resistance destroyed multiple times and then this was never resolved. He just kept blundering until the end when Rey lifted the boulders for their escape. So, AGAIN, making the heroes look bad for no reason.

That Holdo character was so dumb I don’t even understand????? Why couldn’t she just tell the resistance what the plan was???? Literally they were all on a ship running out of fuel and thinking she was planning to just keep running til they ran out of gas and all got blown up. That entire nonsense situation wouldn’t have happened if she had just told the people whose lives were in her hands that she wasn’t just giving them up for dead. And if she was planning to die herself anyways, why didn’t she lightspeed at the First Order sooner? And how did a collision at light speed not obliterate the entire ship? How the hell did Finn and Rose walk away from that? So sloppy, so many plot holes there.

All that build-up to Snoke and he was irrelevant and now dead. They literally just presented us with the half-baked Emperor rip-off and then said “nah JK” and disposed of him. He was entirely pointless. Why not just start off the trilogy with Kylo Ren as the Supreme Leader, then, for all the effect that Snoke had (none) on the story?

Rey went “straight to the Dark Side” while meditating and was sneaking around with Kylo Ren and Luke didn’t trust her motivations at all, but then Yoda just appears and says that Rey already knows everything she needs to know about being a Jedi without Luke needing to teach her (um, what? how? Two days prior she didn’t even know what the Force even was?) and then that’s just magically resolved and she’s just now somehow all good to take up the mantle of the last jedi in the galaxy? Despite her overt foray into the Dark Side, which was seemingly without remorse? Despite the fact that she legit didn’t have a single second of training other than Luke telling her “the Force binds all living things and the Jedi shouldn’t have fucked with it”? Also, how could she do a Jedi mind trick without trying? How could she levitate stones without training? How could she best Luke with no training? Entirely inconsistent with the previous two trilogies, as was every word that came out of Yoda’s and Luke’s mouths. And then Snoke calling her a Jedi? SHE WASN’T A JEDI!!!! 

Leia saying “I changed my hair” as her first words to Luke? What the hell was that? I understand that it was a nod at what Han said to her in VII, but it was out of place and wrong. She should have run to him and hugged, like she did every single other time they reunited in the OT. 

The whole thing about Luke’s death being at peace seemed like they needed Rey and Leia to explain it to the audience, because otherwise no one would get it because it made no sense. Also the way they lowkey implied that Luke had finally gotten “purpose” with his death, as if he hadn’t already had purpose BEFORE when he was SAVING THE WHOLE GALAXY???? As if Luke needed to be redeemed???? Why was I given a story in which Luke Skywalker, the HERO, was in need of a redemption? And am I to understand that he just, exerted himself to death? Uh, ok......? Where’s that meme of Padme saying “Guess I’ll die” when you need it?

Also why was the ancestral Skywalker family lightsaber calling to Rey if she’s not related to them (assuming that Kylo Ren was telling the truth)? Why was she seeing Luke in her dreams? Because she’s “The chosen one”? Didn’t we already HAVE a chosen one? And speaking of that... wasn’t that supposed to have brought balance to the Force? And it... didn’t?

I’m glad that Luke legit asked who the fuck Rey was to be the one to be sent to him, because that made literally no sense whatsoever.

The scenes were cutting all over the place and felt choppy. The pacing was rushed and the plot forced in many places. The tone was all over the place. The humor was inappropriate and fell flat. It visually did not look like Star Wars. In fact, I felt like Rian Johnson did everything in his power to give us a movie that was as un-Star Wars-like as possible.

6. Somehow also an awful rehash of Empire Strikes Back?? If you were paying attention to the plot, it’s not hard to figure out that they were trying to subtly give us Empire Strikes Back in disguise. Film starts with the evacuation of the rebel--oops sorry, resistance base. Proceed to have two of our main heroes being pursued by the Empire across the galaxy, while the Force Sensitive Protagonist is off trying to persuade the Exiled Jedi Master to train her, and he doesn’t want to. Then she ventures into a Dark Side cave and has a disturbing (and just weird?) vision. Then, while Secondary Heroes try to outrun the Empire First Order, she convinces the Exiled Jedi to train her against his best judgment, but she has More Force Visions of her friends of the man whose dick she seemingly wants to suck and so she Leaves Exile Planet to go have a Confrontation with the Evil Force User where she learns a revelation about her parents and is invited to join the Dark Side but Makes An Escape. Then more fleeing from the Empire First Order. Then she rejoins the other lead characters in time to Escape Again, with some slight deviation from the plot--jumping ahead for Luke to die à la Yoda at the beginning of ROTJ, just as she reached her “Dagobah” a film early, as well.

They literally tried to sell us the exact same movie--but they used the same template with all the wrong actual content. They made a cheap knock-off of ESB and filled it with a Luke Skywalker in disgrace, a protagonist flirting (in more ways than one) with the Dark Side, the normalization of the Dark Side, and the destruction of central Star Wars themes.

So, all in all, they are simply reselling the original trilogy but also undoing the original trilogy and assassinating Han, Luke, and Leia as they go. I left the theater the instant the credits rolled. The ONLY positive thing I can say about it is that Mark and Carrie (RIP, she was hard to watch) gave good performances, even though their characters were ruined. I am heartbroken and obviously very angry. I am aware that this was supposed to be a review but became instead an angry rant, but I am as unapologetic of that fact as is Rian Johnson for what he’s done. In my opinion, Star Wars is irrevocably destroyed. The damage following VII was considerable, but this film just really took the cake. This is not my Star Wars, and I will never make the mistake of seeing another Star Wars movie again.

[missixo]

St Balderich Slays the Dragon [12/19]

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11 |(on tumblr)

This fic (on AO3)

Pairing: Balderich/Mondatta

Summary:  The humans are right to fear omnics and what they can do. What he can and will do to humanity. He is Jörmungandr, and he will see humanity fall.

St Balderich Slays the Dragon

Chapter 12

Over the next few months, every Crusader on base is deployed to some part of Europe or other to assist in a push back against omnic incursions. Jörmungandr isn’t overly worried, he’s heard them talking about how they’re still nowhere near destroying an omnium.

Halfway through the first month, Ozzie does indeed make it on base, thankfully with a matching foot, and into the communications center. Well, all of his regular patients are going to be in and out for at least a few weeks, now is as good a time as any to catch up. It doesn’t take much to convince her to let him on the fifth floor with her so they can continue talking while she’s on shift.

“Just don’t tell anyone I did this, ok? Your voice is different than what I remember.”

“My synth is locked. And I got punched in the head about a month ago, quite the story...”

The communications center is mostly staffed by omnics with one or two human supervisors, and he learns it’s kept on a completely separate network from the rest of the base. Explains his inability to remote hack it.

“Everyone has some access to it, but it’s all level one, or level two, which is the bigwigs.”

The ‘work stations’ are microscopic desks with stools all huddled in an empty area by the door, each with a port that allows direct access to the digital entry into the system. Jörmungandr quietly ports into the station next to Ozzie’s and starts scanning the firewalls he needs to get through. It’s a nightmare. The best he can do for now is leave a scrap of code that can slowly drill a small hole for him to use later. It’s going to take months. He wants to throw something out a window. Preferably whoever designed this, possibly after shaking their hand.

After Ozzie shoos him out citing a supervisor coming on shift, he heads for the service stairs and, for old time’s sake, sets off at least one fire alarm per floor. Petty, but it feels so good to inconvenience these humans a little bit after the news he got today.

***

A week later, MD is just back from bullying Ferdinand into going to his physical therapy appointment - the happy idiot can come back unscathed from a battle with bastions and OR-13s, but manages to pull a muscle in his hand opening a pickle jar of all things - when Balderich, Reinhardt, and Henri get back from their latest deployment almost three days late.

“... Lieutenant, would you like a razor for that thing on your face?”

He doesn’t know what’s so funny but Balderich and Henri break down laughing while Reinhardt looks wounded by his question.

“I’m trying to grow it out!”

***

Jörmungandr spends the months of back-to-back deployments taking shifts at the base hospital again, clipping loops of security footage - empty stairwells and hallways - and chatting with Ozzie and Broom when their breaks line up. He trades meaningless gossip back and forth, carefully nudging Ozzie for information on how the communications system works, porting in to a station each time they meet up in there and nudging his drill code that hundredth of a percent ahead of schedule.

During the occasional week that the colonel is on base, he focuses on this new bond the man seems to have formed for him. The flirting is strange, but he feels like he's improving as he goes.

***

Balderich levers himself slowly out of his bed, groaning the whole way. He's on two weeks mandatory rest after pulling something in his leg, and he has check-ups that need doing. Three months of these in-and-out deployments are taking a toll on him and his men, and he can only see more of the same when he thinks of the weeks and months to come. He rubs at a sore muscle in his neck and suddenly remembers his physical later this morning, a small point of pleasure in this mess the world is becoming.

MD still doesn't go easy on him when he's between missions, even with this budding... thing between them. He'd like to call it attraction, maybe a relationship on his more confident days, but some days he's not entirely sure; on those days it almost feels like an acting role the omnic is still figuring out how to play convincingly.

He scratches his jaw and makes a face at the heavy stubble he finds, effectively distracting himself from his contemplations. A quick pass over his scalp leaves the same prickling sensation over his palm.

'Get over it or get it over with...'

In the end, he can't get over it, so he hobbles into the bathroom, sits on the toilet lid, and blesses his long arms that can reach the sink so he can shave sitting down. His scalp is nearly clear when Reinhardt disregards proper decorum - it's becoming an 'as usual' thing, and it's becoming annoying - and enters his quarters.

"Can I help you, Lieutenant?"

"MD wanted me to let you know he'll be making housecalls today because, I quote, 'I've seen geriatrics more mobile than you lot.'"

Charming as always. "Thank you, Reinhardt. Do the others know?"

"Mhm, you were my last stop." His desk chair squeaks as his former squire makes himself comfortable. Must be bored if he's willing to sit with Balderich on his off day. The younger man is recovering from a nasty concussion because he refuses to wear his helmet now unless Balderich shoves it on his head for him and a cracked clavicle. The sling pinning his arm looks a little worn, like MD had to scrounge around to find one the right size.

He finishes making himself feel human again and slowly makes his way back to bed. Reinhardt is badly suppressing a grin. "You look too happy, what's going on?"

"I can't wait to see your face when he stops by, that's all."

One eyebrow rises to his newly-removed hairline. What the hell does that mean?

***

Reinhardt ropes him into watching some awful American 1980's TV show because David Jackenoff - "Hasselhoff!" whatever - is in it. They're three episodes and one and a half hours of regret into it when MD comes to the rescue.

The lieutenant does indeed burst out laughing at Balderich's face when the omnic walks in wearing nothing but his plates, not even his ugly flipflops. MD notices and pokes his shoulder.

"Everything alright, Colonel? I didn't realize American TV was truly so effective at brain rot."

"I-- Where are your clothes?" Genius response there.

"I didn't feel like wearing them today, and as I'm only 'government property,' there's no dress code I'm required to observe." The loathing and disgust reassures him it is indeed MD standing nude in front of him. And about to examine the pulled muscle in his leg.

'Someone somewhere hates me.' Talk about look but don’t touch.

The presence of an entirely unwelcome audience keeps any swelling down, at least, and the exam goes smoothly. The pair of them share a look and Balderich envies MD his unemotive face as he forces down laughter.

"You're recovering well, which is good news. I'd be disappointed if a pulled muscle was all it took to remove you from the picture."

"It'll take more than this to keep me pinned. How much do you weigh, again?" He curls his hands a little to keep them to himself. MD's been allowing him liberties with touch the last month or two, but he gets a feeling he'd be pushing it right now with Reinhardt in the room.

Reinhardt's face nearly breaks his veneer of calm. He's getting old, but he's not dead yet.

"Not enough to keep you on your back unless you wanted." MD drops a reusable cold pack next to him. "Until the next time you can't keep out of trouble, then. Honestly, this is the only way you can think of to get me in your quarters?"

"It's certainly the easiest, give me credit for that much."

"I won't because it just makes more work for me, which is hardly my idea of a good time. Lieutenant, I'll see you later to check on that break."

Reinhardt nods dumbly as MD gathers his things. His jaw drops when Balderich blatantly watches the omnic's silicone padded ass as he leaves. Once the door clicks shut, he finds his voice again.

"You're a cruel, dirty old man."

Balderich laughs so hard his face almost hurts enough to match his leg.

***

Jörmungandr can't help a quiet laugh as he slips into the safety of the med bay.

'His face! Maker, that was priceless.'

Circuits buzz pleasantly under his chassis, a fairly normal occurrence since he decided to pursue this distraction with the colonel. It settles down enough after an hour that he can ignore it and check on his little scrap of hacking code.

It moves at a glacial pace, but it makes progress all the same. It's so close now, the buzzing in his circuits returns with a slightly different feeling, no less pleasant for that extra edge to it. He has months invested already, he can wait a few more days...

***

MD isn’t sure how, but one night almost six months after he first gained access to the communications room, he gets roped into playing ‘referee’ - glorified audience - for a few rounds of competitive drinking between the men - all on base at once for the first time in four months - while he nurses a bottle of oil. At least he gets to claim one of the couches in the rec room to himself while they get hammered. Balderich opts out early on, something about the whiskey affecting his plans for later? They’ve slowly been getting more physical lately, when Balderich asked him to his quarters later this evening.

Reinhardt gets knocked out in round three and collapses on the couch next to MD so heavily the omnic bounces a few inches and almost spills his oil. He barks a rebuke at the inebriated lieutenant, who drunkenly laughs through an apology. MD is reminded of Balderich’s complaints that Reinhardt is getting cocky on deployments recently. And he still wishes Reinhardt would shave the beard he’s slowly trying to grow out from its original goatee.

“How any of you still have your liver is beyond me.”

“It would take more than a few pints of beer to finish off a mighty Crusader!”

“Perhaps, but those few pints could make you an easier target for a bastion if you get deployed tomorrow.”

Reinhardt laughs, “You have a good heart, my friend! Always concerned about us.”

“I have a core, lieutenant.”

“Hey hey hey, we’re past this lieutenant nonsense. It’s Reinhardt, remember? And ok, yes, but a core is like… like a tech heart, ah?” The German’s speech was so slurred from drink, the last words almost sounded like one long one, and it took the omnic a minute to parse out what he said.

“You clearly need sleep, my friend. I think I’ll let you have the couch for the night.” He carefully but firmly takes the stein of beer the man is still holding and dumps it in the sink before heading to Balderich’s quarters. He has an idea of what the man meant, though he’s not sure how it’s going to play out.

The man greets him at the door with a kiss, answered with a spark of omnic energy he only recently figured out.

“You took your time getting here.”

“Your men are very distracting.”

“Not too distracting, I hope?”

“I’m here, aren’t I?”

“That you are.” Balderich startles a squeak out of the omnic when he picks him up, MD’s arms wrapping snug around his neck.

“I should kick you for that.”

“Ah, but you won’t.”

[badomenslullaby]

85 Questons

I was tagged to do this by a very lovely person. I would tag them, but it’s too late to bother them right now x3

Rules: answer these 85 questions and tag 20 people

— What was your last…

1. Drink: Water. 2. Phone call: My friend Graham, I believe. 3. Text message: Group chat with my insane friends. 4. Song you listened to: If I’m James Dean, Then You’re Audrey Hepburn 5. Time you cried: A day or two ago, I’m running low on tears currently.

— Have you ever…

6. Dated someone twice: Kinda, I was giving them a second chance and we were taking things slow before he decided to leave again. 7. Kissed someone and regretted it: Yes. 8. Been cheated on: Twice. 9. Lost someone special: Pets that have passed and a person who i don’t share the same relationship as before. 10. Been depressed: I’m diagnosed with depression. Runs in the family mixed with a lot of shit I have been through. 11. Gotten drunk and thrown up: Hell yeah, I’m a mess xD

— Fave colors

12. Black 13. Blue 14. Blood red

— In the last year have you…

15. Made new friends: Yes. 16. Fallen out of love: No, if only. 17. Laughed until you cried: Of course, that’s my middle name. 18. Found out someone was talking about you: Yes, and I can’t wait for karma to bite them in the ass. 19. Met someone who changed you: Kinda. 20. Found out who your friends are: Eh. 21. Kissed someone on your Facebook friends list: Yes.

— General

22. How many of your Facebook friends do you know in real life: Almost all of them.

23. Do you have any pets: Two dogs and a cat.

24. Do you want to change your name: Kinda, but not really. I just really love the name Lucinda.

25. What did you do for your last birthday: Uh, I’m pretty sure I cried a bit because none of my friends wanted to see me and I share my birthday with the love of my life who is an ex.

26. What time did you wake up today: 9 in the morning. I had trouble sleeping all night.

27. What were you doing at midnight last night: Playing Skyrim and having an anxiety attack.

28. What is something you can’t wait for: To be able to drive my car.

30. What are you listening to right now: My playlist that I made about someone.

31. Have you ever talked to a person named Tom: I had a cat name Thomas, does that count?

32. Something that’s getting on your nerves: The person who I call the love of my life has picked an emotional, physical and mental abuser over me. He is avoiding to give me my things back until he can see me in person, but I wish he would still text me. Also I really hate spiders and how people keep showing me pictures of said spiders.

33. Most visited website: Tumblr, Instagram, Netflix, Youtube, Facebook.

34. Hair color: Right now it is dark blue and a light bluish green. My Next plain is to get it dyed Green and purple. You know, Joker colors.

35. Long or short hair: I have long hair. I also LOVE WHEN GUYS HAVE LONG OR SHAGGY HAIR.

36. Do you have a crush on someone: Yeah, it’s fucking me up pretty badly and he knows it is.

37. What do you like about yourself: I’m funny sometimes, I’m empathetic, sympathetic and overly caring of those I love.

38. Want any piercings: Not anymore. I refuse to get a needle going through my body.

39. Blood type: I don’t know.

40. Nicknames: Doom and Gloom, Twilight Zone, and Baby Bat.

41. Relationship status: Single, but my heart and soul is taken.

42. Sign: Virgo.

43. Pronouns: She.

44. Favorite TV show: Bob’s Burgers, A Series Of Unfortunate Events, The Office, Parks and Rec’s, It’s Always Sunny In Philadelphia, and a few more.

45. Tattoos: None yet, but I am wanting to get one some day.

46. Right or left handed: Right handed. 47: Ever had surgery: Nope 48. Piercings: My ears. 49. Sport: I use to play volleyball and I was in the flag corpse when I was in high school.

50. Vacation: Never been on one.

51. Trainers: Combat boots or heels.

— More general

52. Eating: My favorites are sushi, Chinese and Cheetos.

53. Drinking: Water. Half lemonade half tea, coffee, Monster, soda, or juice.

54. I’m about to watch: Probably about to finish season two of A Series Of Unfortunate Events after this.

55. Waiting for: Him to realize that I’m actually good for him and that he is afraid of actual love.

56. Want: Him.

57. Get married: Hopefully one day.

58. Career: Aiming to be an actor, but currently working at a restaurant that takes advantage of me.

— Which is better

59. Hugs or kisses: Depends on the person.

60. Lips or eyes: Eyes.

61. Shorter or taller: Taller. I am 5′7.5″ to 5′8″, so I like tall people that make me feel small.

62. Older or younger: Older, always has been always will be.

63. Nice arms or stomach: I don’t really care.

64. Hookup or relationships: Relationships, hookups lead to being taken advantage of or hurt feelings.

65. Troublemaker or hesitant: Depends, but I am usually hesitant if people are involved.

— Have you ever

66. Kissed a stranger: Yeah. 67. Drank hard liquor: Yes. 68. Turned someone down: Yes.

69. Sex on first date: Not my style.

70: Broken someone’s heart: I don’t believe so.

71. Had your heart broken: Sadly.

72. Been arrested: No.

73. Cried when someone died: Yes.

74. Fallen for a friend: Nope.

— Do you believe in

75. Yourself: Nope.

76. Miracles: Yes.

77. Love at first sight: Unsure.

78. Santa Claus: He creeps me out.

79. Angels: Yes.

— Misc

80. Eye color: Dark doe brown. 81. Best friend’s name: Andrea, Andrea, Dee, Graham, Sarah, Lizzy, Julia, Parker, and Ivree.

82. Favorite movie: Anastasia, Bartok: The Magnificent, The Crow, The Nightmare Before Christmas, Titanic, and Requiem For A Dream to name a few.

83. Favorite actor: Bill Skarsgaurd and my friend Graham.

84. Favorite cartoon: Bob’s Burgers and BoJack Horseman.

85. Favorite teacher’s name: Dr. Fayhey.

***I don’t really have anyone to tag, so I apologize. I’m also sorry for the sad replies to most of them. I haven’t gone to bed and it is 3:50 in the morning here, plus I’m going through a tough time right now.***