#forgot to write fan on one option rip

[evasive-anon]

Jason Attacking Tim at Titans Tower

Fanon vs Canon

We've all seen the versions in fanfiction but I'm not so sure everyone's seen the original so if you're one of those batfam fans who doesn't want to read the comics (regardless of reasons) but you are curious about how it actually went this is for you.

What I'm addressing:

What does Jason actually say to Tim during the attack?

Did Jason drug all the other Titans?

Did Jason really wear a Robin costume?

Did Jason slit Tim's throat or call him replacement?

Did Jason actually break Tim's bo staff?

Was Tim crying or scared?

Did Jason write a message on the wall in Tim's blood?

Did Jason's eyes glow green?/Did he follow pit rage mechanics?

Panels and details below. This is a LONG one.

What did Jason actually say to Tim during the attack?

Dialogue in fanfiction during the Titans Tower attack varies based on what kind of fic you're reading but usually its either 'time to clip Replacement's wings' if its staying a beatdown whump 'or oh no precious lil bby why is no one watching you' if its an accidental child acquisition. Not judging either option, but this ain't about them its about the real shit.

Look at these opening lines:

Hey, Tim. I was here first.You're the Red Hood. You've been cleaning up Gotham the easy way. Easy? What do you know about easy, Tim? You had a father that looked after you. You went to a private school, right? You slept in a bed. I slept on the streets, I lived in the alleyways in Gotham. Trying to survive. Until Bruce took me in. I trained as hard as I could. I did whatever he asked. . . at least at first. But it didn't matter. They said I wasn't tough enough to be robin. But today, they say you are. Show me, Tim. Show me what you have that I didn't.

Jason really puts himself out there in all of his dialogue in this encounter, the struggle of having to fight for anything and everything he got in life, even the things that came to everyone else for free, and then being told he wasn't even good enough for the things he fought for.

There's a trope in fanfics that if Jason knew Tim stalked Batman and forced his way into being Robin that it would change how Jason felt about the situation but that's even addressed in this comic:

You were a kid, worried about how Batman was spiraling down into darkness. You spent weeks tracking the dark knight. Solving a mystery no one else could. You discovered who he was behind that mask. Millionaire Bruce Wayne. You were so pleased with yourself, I'm sure that you forgot who you were really dealing with. I know Bruce Wayne. And let me tell you, Tim if someone was trying to find out who Batman really was. If someone was stalking him for weeks. He'd know about it. You can't be that good. I am. He let you find him. And I bet he said the same thing to you as he did to me, didn't he? That you had a talent to make a difference in Gotham. That he needed someone he could trust in war on crime. That you were one of a kind. The light to his darkness. Robin, the Boy Wonder.

Tim saying 'I am' is really such a moment that doesn't come through in text because he is right that he really did do that but I also completely understand why Jason wouldn't believe it.

TBH my favorite part is how done Tim honestly sounds with Jason thoughout all his trauma dumping. Like imagine a grown man who used to work the same part time job as you breaking into your house, dressing up in your work uniform, ranting about how much the job ruined his life while he beats your ass??? God, and he probably had to write a fucking report about it after. RIP Timmy.

What do you want? Do you want to be Robin again? Is that it? You... want to take it away from me? Why in the hell would I ever want that? Don't you get it? When I died no one cared! No one remembered me. Are you completely insane? No one could forget you. I've spent my entire career wearing this mask under your shadow. I had to convince Batman to let me try this. All because he'll never stop blaming himself for what happened to you. You ask me, that's the only reason he hasn't taken you down. He's holding back. But me? No freakin' way. That's the Robin I wanted to see. Still. You do realize the whole idea of training a teenager to fight against something he'll never eradicate is a mistake. It didn't even surprise anyone when I died. When I failed. I failed-- but I'm still beating you. Do you think you're that good now?! Do you really, Tim? Yes.

Tim bashing Jason across the face as he says 'no freakin' way'? *chefs kiss*

Jason drugging the other Titans to knock them out?

Little bit true, Kory was actually just already away from the tower and BB and Cyborg were about to bounce because of the drama going on with Donna's return but Jason like super tazes them and then drugs Raven who he thought already went through enough shit without him knocking her out violently.

Note: Jason says in the text here that he never rolled with Cyborg or BB but like he actually did in some comics so?? The continuity is lie I guess idk.

Did he show up in Red Hood gear or a Robin costume?

Both tbh but he spent most of the time in the Robin costume but bro actually made a stripper rip away version of his Red Hood gear so he could dramatically reveal the Robin costume underneath. I can't believe no one ever includes that in their fics its so fucking funny.

Does he call Tim 'replacement' or slit his throat?

No, this came from a Batman comic with Hush not Teen Titans. That incident takes place in a graveyard not Titans Tower and he calls Tim pretender not replacement.

Does Jason break Tim's staff?

Tragically, no. The bo staff snap would have been iconic. Instead he just takes Tim's staff and beats Tim up with it and breaks stuff. BUT!! He uses it to bust a statue in the TITANS MEMORIAL ROOM which is a place in Titans Tower just for having statues of dead previous titans and Jason is rightfully pissed he didn't get one. Like Tim is correct in saying no one forgot him still but like I would be hurt too if all my friends made cool statues of friends that died and then just left my zombie ass out, like wtf.

Note: I am seriously losing my shit that I have never seen someone bring up the memorial room in a fanfic. That is so much angst material. 😭

Tim crying/ being scared?

Hell no. He's a fucking Robin you know he's being a sassy boy the whole time, even towards the end when he's about done he's still saying he's her and I love Tim for that.

Note: There are a few different times where Tim does a flippy Robin move and then Jason just fucking copies it like flexing that he can do it too, and its just so petty and stupid he's trying so hard to be better than an actual child. 💀I get why in the context of the situation but its still so ridiculous.

Message on the wall in Tim's blood?

TBH I really don't know for sure on this one?? Like its implied that he did but Tim isn't bleeding all that much throughout this beatdown and like we don't see Jason do it just the Titans reacting to seeing it after. It could be Tim's blood, it could be red paint, and it could even be that Jason packed an actual bucket of blood to bring with him to write a message with after he finished. TBH the world is your oyster on this one.

Note: If anyone can find another comic where this event was brought up where they actually clarify it was Tim's blood hmu and I'll update this but I couldn't find any.

Pit rage/ glowing green eyes?

Fanon only at this point in the comics. Jason is seems to be himself and even thinks Tim and his friends are pretty cool at the end, and he's just like reflecting on if he had good friends if he would have turned out better as he leaves.

[atlasaurelius]

Here are a few helpful links:

In that last doc, there are some things missing and out of order.

The Gauntlet goes in-between Dark Victory and Robin: Year One

I recommend adding in Batman chronicles 5 after the Killing joke

Also if you are reading Suicide Squad, Ostrander's Suicide Squad should also go after the killing joke - it's where Barbara Gordon first appears as Oracle!

The Hunt for Oracle happens after NML, I don't recommend jumping back and forth

Batman Evolution is collected in The New Gotham FYI. I also recommend reading Brubaker's Batman run around here too.

Selina's Big Score is a great GN that goes after Trail of the Catwoman

Going to plug Gotham Central as another fantastic series that happens around this time.

Heart of Hush (and the rest of Dini's Detective run, which is excellent) happens concurrently with Morrison's Batman run. HoH in particular happens right before RIP

Don't read Countdown to Final Crisis - it's bad.

Ditto for Battle for the Cowl

It's missing Vol 2 of Steph's Batgirl, and honestly I recommend it as a good final goodbye to the post-crisis continuity.

Gates of Gotham happens after Black Mirror

Also, drop any book you aren't enjoying. Don't force yourself to read anything that doesn't interest you.

Here are some of my personal biased opinions:

Batman: Ego is a good book, though it's optional. Ego happens at some point after Dick becomes Robin in Dark Victory, but before Dick stops being Robin.

Batman: The Cult is one of the best Batman stories where Jason is Robin. The Cult happens after Second Chances, and before Ten Nights of the Beast.

Ten Nights of the Beast happens during Jason's Robin run, after Second Chances and The Cult, and just before A Death in the Family.

A Death in the Family isn't very good imo, like, it's good but it's a bit... rushed? If you're going to read the Gotham Knights series, I'd recommend GK #43-45 "Knights Passed" arc to cover Jason's death.

Her Sister's Keeper, When in Rome, and Selina's Big Score are good Catwoman books. Beyond that, I personally find the Catwoman solo books to be pretty skippable. Hush and Heart of Hush are also good Catwoman stories.

The 2000 Batgirl run starring Cassandra Cain has really good stories. Even if you end up dropping the Nightwing or Robin books, still give the Batgirl book a shot.

The 2003 Teen Titans run by Johns wasn't to my taste. (I especially dislike the portrayal of certain characters like Cassie and Rose.)

Nightwing fans and Red Hood fans both tend to avoid Nightwing: Brothers in Blood. I think the story is hilarious, but it's not quality or impactful.

Steph's entire 2009 Batgirl book is great, and it contains my favorite depictions of Damian Wayne.

Red Hood and the Outlaws (2011) and Red Hood/Arsenal are very skippable. The Red Hood books have no impact in the grander scheme, but it's great to learn more about Jason and Roy's dynamic if you're looking to write JayRoy

Teen Titans (2011) tends not to be highly recommended.

The first four volumes of Red Hood and the Outlaws (2016) with art by Dexter Soy are decent. But then Red Hood: Outlaw is very skippable.

A lot of Nightwing fans recommend skipping the "Ric Grayson" arc. Personally I hate Ric. Like, they just erased decades of Dick's character development and made him Ric.

A lot of Damian Wayne fans recommend skipping a lot of Damian's stuff after the end of Super Sons and Alfred's death . Then you can pick back up with Robin 2021.

If you're a Jason Todd fan like me, Red Hood: Lost Days is a MUST. But, uh, the first part of it will make you hate Talia, so I'm gonna put a TW for minor x adult s*x here.

I've heard many people say they don't like the latest Batman arc (I forgot the specific names, but everything after Failsafe was introduced), but I personally enjoyed reading Batman #125 onwards

This is all I can think of right now, hope it helps! Obviously this is a lot, so you don't have to read all the volumes if you don't want to

Okay, so I'm working on making a batfam OC, and I'm trying to figure out a timeline, problem is NO ONE KNOWS WHAT'S THE ACTUAL TIMELINE

i am so SO tired of the actual DC canon, and I wanted to ask if it will be weird to make my own version of canon?

and if I do it, should I post about it?

also, please drop the essential comics for DC if you can

thank you, random tumbler user

[awakeshedreams]

sugar and spice ( 1 )

pairing : resident bad boy!jjk x model student!reader

setting : highschool!au x stepbrother!au

summary :

a messy highschool!au x stepbrother!au where model student reader who has quite a few dirty little secrets sees her world take an unexpected turn when her mother comes home one day with an engagement announcement, to the father of none other than the school's resident bad boy.... Jeon Jungkook.

genre : smut, for laughs, kinda pornish, slow burn with collosaly overwhelming sexual tension

rating: soft m ( for now ) due to adult content

warnings : unconventional relationship of sexual nature, tropes and clichès, teenagers partaking in porn-esque activities, made up things with made up people happening in a made up world, don't like don't read XD

wordcount : 2.3K

a/n : i've been fighting in a long standing war and I have lost. the man known as jeon jungkook had his foot on my neck for years and today, I have finally submitted to my fate and surrendered to his reign.

yes. after a hundred years, i'm writing again. specifically, writing for bts. particularly, writing for jungkook. its been a long time coming.

life just took over and I transitioned into an adult and kind of grew out of the state of mind I was in before. but. sigh. jeon jungkook has been tormenting me the whole time. it was only a matter of time before i relapsed honestly.

so here I am again. in mind, body and spirit, a different person from who I was before but still the same in the sense that with the way bts have my whole heart, jk will always be the demon in the corner of my room that I invite to bed for a cuddle even though it's (probably really) not good for me.

do not misconstrue. I love him more than I can say. but. sigh. he has me in a chokehold, loves. please try to understand where I'm coming from.

anyways, enough with this ranting. you all came here for the nitty gritty so let me not hold you hostage with my dilemma rambling any longer. here's to the first bts fic i've posted in literal years. introducing- sugar and spice.

1 2

Unless they told someone, no one would have been able to guess it.

At school they were complete strangers.

She was the nice head girl with a clean record, all smiles and straight A’s. He was the mysterious bad boy with a track record, all tatted up with bruised knuckles.

She wore plaid skirts with neat pleads in them and pastel sweaters with bows at the collar. He wore jeans with rips in them and leather jackets with studs.

They couldn't have been any more different.

As far as anyone was concerned, they existed on two extreme ends of a vast spectrum.

What they didn't know was that they shared a dirty little secret.

.

You were a girl with many dirty secrets.

For instance, you used to sell nudes online. It was a side hustle you did.

Not because you needed money.

Your mom was a renowned doctor so there was more than enough of that in your life.

Not because you needed validation from people online either.

Even without the constant compliments and the praises you knew you were visually blessed with a pretty face and a nice body too.

All things considered, you simply thought you had a nice pair of tits and you took pictures of them sometimes.

Posting the shots you snapped online came much later when you heard about this website where people were getting paid crazy money for posting racy things.

‘It’s just so degrading…’ It was one of your friends, June, who sneered, pretty nose scrunched up. She fixed her long ponytail and rolled her brown eyes while looking in the mirror at her locker. ‘Who would do such a thing, am I right?’

She said this, but June was the girl who has slept with more boys than she could count on her two hands. And those were the ones she told you about.

Like every other time, you said nothing. Even when it carried on to lunch with the rest.

‘Pretty desperate if you ask me.’ Mei the stellar track runner shrugged casually as she stretched her limbs like routine.

‘Where are their parents?’ Nina the library nerd shook her head in disapproval as she fixed her glasses so it sat right on the bridge of her nose.

‘Um… I don’t think it’s … appropriate… to talk about ….’ Kiko the one who always carried a cross and bible around mumbled into her sleeve.

All your friends spoke of it in derision and repulsion of course. This was a school for proper children so they were proper girls. At least they were supposed to be.

Regardless the conversation sparked a curiosity in you.

So you made an account and uploaded your first picture. Nothing bizarre. Just your tits in a pretty lace bra.

You made sure to keep your face out of the frame because that was the smart thing to do and you were nothing if not the smartest student in school.

In all honesty, you weren’t expecting anything out of it. In fact, in between work with student council and tutoring your juniors with finals right around the corner, you even forgot about it for an entire month.

It was by a complete whim that you decided to open the app while you’d been unwinding at your desk following a tedious day at school.

To say you were amused by the response you found waiting for you would have be a grave understatement.

You were staring at the four figure digit that now sat in your bank account.

Reading through the comment section was even more interesting.

There were all sorts of people there who had all sorts of things to say. Ranging from honestly sweet to downright dirty.

You had never been brought to tears laughing in her life before until then.

It was just so funny to see people misbehave and lose their minds over a pair of tits.

From then on it just sort of became a thing.

.

But that wasn't the worse of your secrets.

You were making a name for yourself on the crude web months later.

The next step was naturally to move from making taking pictures to making videos. Since you was already in too deep you didn’t see why not.

So you upgraded and opened another account. An amateur one where your touched yourself for an audience.

You were no prude.

You might have never been touched by a boy before but you had touched yourself plenty times. Stress and frustration came hand in hand with being head girl. Since you couldn’t quite vent it out at the annoying troublemakers at school, this was your second best option.

Third was watching porn, but that was mostly when you were extremely bored.

But that wasn’t where that little endeavor ended.

Later on it became a lot more risqué.

.

It all started when your mom hit you with a marriage announcement.

She met a guy on her business trip who she really liked and she was convinced he was the one.

Your mom had a tragic history of being a bad judge of character.

You’ve had this conversation at least five times since you became old enough to understand that boys and girls who were just friends didn’t kiss and sleep with each other.

Most times, it felt like she was doing it because she thought you needed a dad around.

You might have once, when you were younger and your mom was too busy with work to be there. But she worked from home these days and you were soo busy with school to worry about things like that.

This time it was like she was doing it for her. You were glad.

Your mom looked genuinely happy when she spoke about this guy.

Who were you to get in the way?

.

She spent almost the whole weekend in the kitchen. It was the longest you’ve seen her in there in your entire life.

She was excited for the dinner on Sunday.

Mr Jeon was the name of the chosen man.

He was coming over with his kid. A son, his only family. His wife passed away years ago.

You wore the dress your mom picked out for you, something cream in color and off the shoulders that brushed your knees. She looked pretty in her champagne dress. It was different from the office slacks and loose blouses you were used to seeing her in.

You stood by her at the door while the guests came through.

Lifting your head from a polite bow, you found herself staring straight into an achingly familiar pair of glinting dark eyes and went completely still.

‘Sweetie,' Your mother said sounding delighted, a soft hand on your stiff shoulder. 'This is Mr Jeon and his son Jungkook.’

Ah. Fuck.

‘Jeon dear, this is my daughter. Isn’t she lovely?’

.

Dinner was a mild affair, with small talk and the occasional clinking of cutlery on fine china.

From the outside looking in, you probably looked the picture perfect family already.

Only if no-one looked close enough.

Arms crossed, tongue in cheek. Your discomfort could be detected from miles away.

The two adults were oblivious.

The dark eyed boy with the slightest wave to his nape touching, brow grazing, ear covering onyx hair sat across you though; he took note of this with a passing glance and wordlessly returned to his food.

Jeon Jungkook had a countenance that betrayed his reputation.

Even though you’ve never talked, you knew plenty about him and you were sure he knew a lot about you too.

You went to the same school.

Dressed as he was in a crisp white dress shirt buttoned at the wrist and dark tailored pants with a fine belt on, it might have been hard to tell what kind of person he really was.

You lifted her gaze from your plate to look study him wordlessly, idly twisting the noodles with your fork.

People either called him the black sheep or the dark cloud but for you, Jeon Jungkook was the school’s resident lone wolf.

He smoked in the secluded areas on campus, sometimes playing his guitar. Beat up people who got on his nerves, sometimes using his guitar. Slept in class the rare times he was there, many times on his guitar.

Being his senior, you had never seen any of any of that for yourself. But you received plenty reports weekly to come to a sound conclusion.

There was no way people hated him enough to join hands in solidarity and make this all up.

It was quite the contrary actually. He had an alarming number of fans.

On the surface level you couldn’t see why. Most times you saw him, he looked bored out his mind and honestly, intimidating.

Maybe it was the tattoos. Or the ripped skinny jeans. Or the leather jackets with studs.

Maybe it was the domineering height and fit frame and structured face.

Maybe it was the intense dark eyes or the silky ruffled hair.

Even then, you failed to see the irresistible appeal in him. All those things that made him up only added to his unapproachable aura.

Bottom line was, he was bad news.

.

You didn’t want to be a spoil sport.

But how much of a thug your mom’s boyfriend’s son was shouldn’t be something that would make her like him less.

They were both their own people. Right ?

It was just that you just didn’t want her to be shocked and devastated if something happened later. When it happened.

Yet it seemed the serious conversation would have to wait.

After dinner your mom suggested you head to the living room to chat over wine and cheese.

You stayed back to do take out the dishes.

Earlier, your mom had stood to do it instead at first.

‘Don’t bother with that, dear.’ She reached for the plates in your hands. ‘Let me do it.’

‘It’s okay, mom.’ You smiled a little. ‘This is your night. I’ll meet you in the living room.’

'Sweetie...' Your mom looked close to tears. ‘But there’s so much of it…’

‘Jungkook,’ his father's voice had cut through the moment. He was a serious man in a crisp suit with a stoic countenance. His voice was just naturally authoritarian without him trying ‘Give her a hand.’

Jungkook stood, almost robotically.

‘It’s fine.’ You said. Politely. Nicely. Tightly. ‘I can handle this much.’

You left without another word.

That had been moments ago and now you were done with cleaning.

You stood at living room entrance for a while, taking in the scene.

The two adults were exchanging moon eyes and whispering in each other’s ears at the love seat.

Jungkook was sitting on a solo seat, but he was on his phone, completely unbothered by what was happening.

Your mom seemed to think it was the perfect time to pull out the photo album right then and there upon seeing you.

It was embarrassing but at least you knew you didn’t have to worry about the pictures spreading at school.

Jungkook was looking, picking up a picture occasionally to rove over, but he wasn’t the type to do that.

He also wasn’t the type to stare but you felt his glance shifting to you and lingering multiple times.

Once, you caught his eyes and he just stared at you across the coffee table wordlessly with a curious tilt to his head, idly flipping a picture of you dressed as a knight in glitter shining armor for Halloween at eight in his hands.

Honestly, it was starting to get annoying.

But you endured. For your mom’s sake.

.

Your alarm went off at exactly ten.

As subtly as you could, you excused yourself with an apology to the guests, saying you weren't really feeling well.

In hindsight you probably should have used a better excuse.

Your mom was notorious when it came to worrying, especially when it comes to your health.

Also, you probably should’ve locked the door before undressing just for good measure since people were over.

But in the moment, you were too busy setting your camera up where you were kneeling on the floor at the foot of the bed to be concerned about that.

That day you were testing out a new toy.

.

Distractedly, you took note of a couple of people asking you if that was your boyfriend’s shirt you had lifted over your tits.

You ignored them.

Couldn’t a girl own an oversized tee without getting any flack?

Trivial comments like that aside, a good majority of the audience are fawning over how wet you were and how perfect you bouncing tits look being played with.

Your head fell back and your eyes fluttered shut.

You were sitting there, knees raised to your chest and legs splayed, your gushing pussy in full display where the toy was stuffed deep into her tightness, vibrating pleasantly.

‘I’m close…’ you mumbled throatily, squeezing your tits and pinching your stiff nipples in between your moving fingers. You moved your hips move faster, feeling the toy buzz against fluttering walls. You took a hand off one of your tits to rub at your engorged clit. ‘Fuckfuckfuck…’

Deep in your high, you didn’t hear the door open and close with a foreboding click.

You only heard your name being called by a deep, smooth voice through the heady haze.

Instantly you stilled.

When you snapped your head to look over her shoulder Jungkook was there, hands in his pockets, leaning against your doorframe with his sleeves drawn up to his elbows, muscle roped, inked skin on full display.

When he tilted his head to the side a little, appraisively, you dared to say as a quaking chill ran down your spine and your entire body felt like it was about to burst into flames, a bit of his hair fell over his face.

His eyes were like two black in the dark as he took you in, dragging his gaze up and down your exposed body languidly.

In the back of your mind, you wished the ground would part and swallow you whole.

‘Your mom,' he starts, capturing your attention wholly, dark gaze finally flickering to your face, his voice suddenly lower, hoarser. ‘She sent me over to check on you.’

It took you a moment to realize where you were, who you were, who he was.

It was like a bucket of cold water had been dropped over your head.

Jeon Jungkook, the school's resident trouble maker, soon to be your step brother, just walked in on you fingering yourself in in front of a recording camera.

Well. Yeah.

You gulped.

You were royally fucked.

depending on the response I get I might ( most probably will ) delete this. not because I'm ashamed of my work. because I'm embarrassed of myself. I really swore to never write again and here I am. sigh. yes, I have seen my previous works and noticed just how terrible they were and this is a big reason why. so sorry for putting you through that. a million apologies.

also, that's right. I have adopted a new style which might not be to everyone's liking. another reason why.

anyways, if you liked this filth ( i know it seems mild but I can tell you it's very likely gonna get worse ) please idk uh... fuck this isn't ao3. hm.

like and drop by in the ask box if you liked it and want to see more. it makes me happy. its like serotonin fuel to me.

have a nice day. see you next time ( maybe ). stay fresh. yeah. 💜💜.

[tacticaldiary]

Not Jealous

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort; Fluff

He’s not jealous. He’s not. Impossible...so what was this horrible feeling clawing at his chest, urging him to do something about Denki getting a little too friendly? Why does he feel the need to punch something. Jealousy is an ugly thing as Bakugou finds out. 

Masterlist

——————————————————————————

He hated this. He didn't care, but at the same time he hated it. 

The way Y/N threw her head back to laugh or, god forbid, giggle at something Dunce Face over there had said made his blood boil for some reason. The way he had his arm thrown around her made him want to punch something, and the obvious, lazy flirting made him want to yell at someone. 

The whole class was lounging in the living room, Bakugou sitting on one of the couches next to Y/N and Denki. He was in full hearing range of the terrible jokes and laughs. Every now and then he chances a glance to them.

It doesn’t help his rising temper

Why was Dunce Face the one who got to be near Y/N? Why the hell was he allowed to touch her? Obviously it’s not like he cared or anything. He didn’t care that he wanted to be the one sitting next to Y/N, no that was just stupid. 

It’s not like his heart fucking fluttered everytime she shot him a smile, or offered to spar with him. Nope. Not like he admired how she was one of the only people who didn’t take his bullshit, or how headstrong and confident and powerful she was, how she practically radiated every time she walked in the room, or even how he went out of his way to be around her. 

It wasn’t his fault she needed obvious tutoring to get her 95% up to a 100%. Not his fault their quirks were compatible and they were usually assigned to train together. She obviously needed to be walked to recovery girl every time she got hurt, who knows what stupid shit she’d pull if no one accompanied her, (granted he was always the one who insisted on taking her, fuck off Deku.).

Any extra time they spent together was purely coincidental, and...fuck he was in love-

The day Bakugou had realised it was when he was walking her to her dorm. The grateful smile she’d given him accompanied with a “Thank you, Katsuki.” had quite literally knocked the breath out of him. He loved the way his name sounded on her lips. 

“What the hell, Denki!?” Y/N’s laugh rings through the room. That most definitely was not his name. He turns to them, his scowl deepening as he sees Y/N grab his arm to keep herself upright. Denki laughs with her, looking highly amused. Bakugou's eyes linger on them and something claws at his chest, a horrible emotion that makes him want to snatch you away, as far away from Dunce Face as possible. 

The loud bang the echoes through the room startles everyone into silence. Bakugou rises to his feet and swears, grabbing onto his left hand, which he had accidentally ignited. One of the pillows behind him was scorched black, the smell of burnt cotton filling the room. He rarely every loses control of his quirk like that, regardless of how small the explosion was. 

“Kacchan-?”

“Bakugo, you-”

“Holy shit! You okay?” Y/N is the first to react, cutting Izuku and Kirishima off and standing, walking over to Bakugou.She grabs his hand and brings it up to examine it for any damage. If it were anyone else they would have had their face blown off by now “Why’d you-”

“Shut up.” he says lowly, glaring at her, before harshly ripping his hand away and turning on heel, stalking up into the hallway, to his room presumably. He was still fuming, now the added anger of having lost control like that adding to the frustration. 

Shutting the door, he looks down at his hands and sighs. In the confinements of his own personal space, he allows himself to think properly. Fuck, he hated this, he hated feeling like this.

He ignores the knock on the door, plopping down on his desk chair. He knew full well who it was, and he really didn’t want to deal with this right now. The knocking continues and is this time accompanied by a familiar voice. 

“Don’t be an asshole, I know you’re in there! Open the door.”

Ignoring seems to work, he thinks...he thinks wrong. Before he can react, he hears the doorknob turn and the sound of the door creaking open tells him that he foolishly forgot to lock the door. He spins the chair to glare at Y/N

“The fuck do you want?”

“I want to know why you’ve been acting more pissy than usual today.” She states closing the door behind her with a click. 

“Keep wondering then.”

“It would be much easier if you just told me.” She crosses her arms.

Bakugou shrugs with a scowl. “Shouldn’t you be out there? Wouldn’t wanna waste your precious quality time with Dunce Face now would you?” His scowl becomes harsher at the thought. Y/N pauses, silence filling the space between them for a few seconds. 

“You’re...oh my god, Katsuki, are you...jealous or something?” She asks, snickering a little. 

“What the hell? I’m not jealous.” He gets to his feet and yells, fists clenched. He wasn't jealous.

“You are! You’re jealous! Katsuki Bakugou is jealous!” Y/N laughs, ignoring the murderous look on the others face. Before she knows it, she’s yanked forward by her collar, close to a very much seething Bakugou. 

“I’m not jealous, you little shit.” He growls lowly, his fist bunching the front of Y/N’s shirt. 

“Your actions tell me otherwise.” Her eyes flicker down to his hold, before going back up to meet his fiery ones. She suddenly realizes how close they are, she can practically feel his breath fanning over her face. She goes quiet at the thought, a flush creeping up her face. Bakugou notices the lack of retort, and a slow smirk spreads across his face as he sees how red the other is.

“What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue? Where’s the witty retorts now, shithead?” he yanks her closer, almost tauntingly. 

“I left them with Kaminari, I guess.” Y/N says quietly after recovering from the initial shock. SHe grins as she’s released and shoved away almost immediately.

“So it’s Kaminari now?” he cocks his head to the side.

“That bothers you?”

“Obviously not. Do what you want, idiot.” He scoffs, looking away with a scowl. Y/N contemplates her options. She could push the point and risk Bakugou completely pushing her away...or she could leave and address the problem later. 

Later. A word she’s all too familiar with. She’s been putting off doing something as trivial as confessing till ‘later’ for the past few months. She can’t exactly pinpoint how or why she fell for this hotheaded, stubborn, asshole of an unfairly attractive idiot, but she knows that she’ll have to tell him sometime, even if he rejects her and doesn’t feel the same. After a few seconds of thought she makes up her mind and shrugs.

“All right. Guess I’ll go spend some more time with Kaminari then. Since you don’t mind.” She turns and pulls the door open. Before it can open more than a few inches, however, it’s forcibly slammed shut by a hand next to her head. She turns around in surprise and is met with Bakugou glaring down at her. 

“...What?” She prompts when he doesn’t speak. 

He continues glaring down at her in silence, seemingly fighting a mental battle over something. It seems like the debate is settled however, when he sighs in annoyance and leans down, crashing their mouths together harshly.  

It only lasts a few seconds, a few fiery, explosive, wonderful seconds, before Y/N is left shell-shocked, as Bakugou pulls away, still scowling. He raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t move away. 

“Uh...I- that was-...” Y/N stutters, before gathering herself and meeting his gaze with a small smile. “I should take that as a sign that you like me back?” She relishes the way he’s caught off guard since it doesn’t happen often. His eyes widen slightly in surprise and the hand on the door next to her head slips down just a fraction. 

“Figured it out already, dumbass?” he grumbles, still keeping her fixed to her place with his eyes.

“Sorry...guess I short-circuited for a second.” She can’t help it. When Bakugou scowls and pulls away harshly, she reaches out and grabs his waist, attempting to keep him in place. “Kidding! I’m kidding, Katsuki!” She chuckles and hearing her laugh is the only thing that stops Bakugou from not prying her hands off him. 

“There’s nothing going on between me and Denki, if you were curious. I’ve liked you for a while now and he knows that.” The tips of her ears turn red at the confession. Bakugou stares at her for a second, not seeing any hints of a lie. He relaxes a little and scoffs. 

“Never said I was curious.” he rolls his eyes and Y/N shakes her head with a breathy laugh. 

“Sure, Katsuki. Sure.”

When they return to the common area together, they’re sent questioning glances, but everyone knows better than to ask. Y/N sits next to Bakugou and Bakugou’s the one who has his arm around her and Bakugou’s the guy who gets to hear her laugh and he’s the one who gets to spend time with her.

He obviously wasn’t jealous before.

——————————————————————————

Author’s Note: My first Bnha fic! Honestly, I’m so excited to start writing for this fandom, so send your requests in! They really get my creativity flowing!

Requests Are Open And Welcome

[aminiatureworld]

Storms

Ship: RFA + Minor Trio and GN!Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 5,431 words total; about 700 per person

Premise: A rewrite of an old request I wrote back in 2017 (link here).

Author’s Note: These are less headcanons and more fics outlines lmao but hope you like this rewrite. I do considering I can barely stand reading the original, my writing has thankfully improved, and I hope it will continue to do so. I haven’t written in 2nd person in literal years (3rd person ftw) so I hope it doesn’t come off too strange. 

Two notes. Firstly I’ve done my best to make the reader gender neutral. If you catch any gendered terms feel free to tell me so I can fix it. Secondly, I haven’t played Another Story yet, rip my broke ass, so if V and Saeran are a bit out of character, that’s definitely why. I’m working on it haha. In regards to V I simply know almost nothing about his route, and in regards to Saeran I’ve decided to ignore what I know about his route, mostly because this was hitting 4,000 words at that point and an in depth HC involving canonical thing would probably be about that length. Sorry this is so long and thus the final HCs a bit rushed. Thanks for putting up with me! Hope you enjoy!

Ao3 link in reblog

Zen

Having a fear of thunderstorms was one of the most obnoxious fears on the planet sometimes. Especially when one is surround by 60 mph gusts of wind and the house one lives in feels like 80% glass.

This was the predicament you were left in when a series of storms passed through the first week you and Zen were officially dating. Oh joy.

Despite how in love you were with Zen, revealing one’s fears, especially when they seem vaguely irrational, is a difficult thing to do, so you teetered towards Option B

That being: Don’t tell anyone, keep calm, if you need to take a break go to the bathroom or say you forgot something in the bedroom. Okay? Okay.

However this flawless plan of attack lasted only about five minutes, and the first clap of thunder had you ready to bolt under the bed.

Zen, bless him, was utterly oblivious, listening to the backtrack of a song he was working on and occasionally making such benign comments as “that’s a lot of rain” or “wow that was loud”

Yeah. That was loud. Help me.

Eventually it got a bit… much, and you had to make your excuses about getting a book from the television/living room. Since it was in the “basement” part of the complex you’d figured that it’d be easier to hide out there. Just turn off all the lights, try to find earplugs, then count down the time until the storms were over.

Unfortunately the weather wasn’t adhering to this plan very well, how typical of it, as the storms were supposed to last until the early hours of the morning. And it wouldn’t exactly be unobtrusive to not eat.

So after ten minutes in the dark you went out to help Zen prepare dinner. At least no one needed to go to the grocery store. And today’s menu included Japchae, so always a treat! It was going to be okay, nothing was going to happen. It’s fine.

At least that’s what you told yourself until a particular bright flash of lightning streaked the sky and you promptly jumped and dropped the sweet potato noodles on the ground.

At this point Zen switched from oblivious to overly concerned. Say what you will about him but he was truly a sweetheart when he noticed something was wrong. As he helped you pick up the spilled noodles, assuring you that there was enough still in the package to use, he asked what was wrong

You explained that when you were little your grandparents had a house in a village in the countryside and one summer day lightning struck a powerline, causing it as well as two houses close to yours to burn down.

Zen responded with such concern. “Oh MC I’m so sorry to hear that! Was anyone hurt? No wonder you’re uncomfortable around storms now.”

“It was such a long time ago, and it’s so unlikely to happen again my lifetime… I don’t know why I’m still so afraid, it’s so stupid.”

“It’s not stupid to be afraid of something. You don’t have to hide your fears around me sweetheart. There’s no shame in it.”

Unfortunately words usually cannot make fears go away, but safe to say you were touched. Picking up the rest of the noodles and disposing them you and Zen shared a sweet series of hugs, and maybe you wouldn’t continued down that route if the water hadn’t begun to boil and dinner was once more brought back into stark focus.

Afterwards you guys ate in front of the tv, turning on a random crappy show and making fun of the announcer.

You could still hear the thunder every once in a while, but Zen made sure you felt safe and happy, cuddling you, doing something to draw your attention to him at the beginning of each clap of thunder, and keeping up a steady stream of conversation, even about the most mundane of things.

Your fear still wasn’t gone, and you still weren’t excited for the rest of the week, but at least you had someone with you who truly cared and was actively trying to make you feel better. You knew Zen would always be there for you, and that knowledge would carry you through the most anxious of times, to the other side.

You truly loved him so much.

Yoosung

Sometimes you wished that you could disappear into something as easily as Yoosung did, both with his games and with his studying.

Yoosung was in his first year of veterinarian medical school and, having just passed the first series of exams, had invited you over to the apartment he was leasing, for an evening of games, television, and overall hanging out. It would’ve been more of a date, but the weather was impressively stormy and, much to your relief, it was decided that staying inside was the better option.

Yoosung was loading up a game on the tv and you were checking to see what remained in the fridge, when a bolt of lightning raced across the sky; suddenly you became aware of just how very high up apartment buildings tended to be, and, much like usual, the logical part of your brain repeating Googled information about lightning rods was replaced by a static of anxiety floating around in your brain.

Returning to the TV room you nervously picked up the controller, hoping that Yoosung wouldn’t notice. Not that you didn’t trust him to understand, indeed you’d hardly met anyone as understanding as Yoosung, but it was more that years of being told “it’s just rain” had kinda gotten to your system.

The first half an hour or so was alright, the quiet mental notes you were taking told you that the storm was still far enough away, although there was no doubt it was getting closer; something reinforced by your, hopefully, discreet checking of the weather app.

When the storm arrived, oh boy did it arrive.

The winds felt unbearable, screaming terribly, rattling the windowpanes with fast, stinging rain, so much so the outside looked less like the outside and more like the middle of a whirlpool. A whirlpool that occasionally set itself on fire, the lightning dispersed by the odd shadows of the rain.

At this point all pretense fell out the window.

“MC?” Yoosung looked over as you’d dropped the remote and drawn your legs up to your chest, burying your face in your knees, all thoughts blocked out. “MC.” Yoosung said a little louder, putting his own remote down on the coffee table and scooting over to where you were sitting on the couch. “Hey.” He wrapped his arms around your shoulders, something vaguely uncomfortable considering the position you both were sitting in, but still a welcome presence, a bit of comfort making its way past your wall of fear.

“Not a huge fan of thunderstorms I see.” He said when the storm had calmed down a bit. You let out a shaky sort of laugh. Understatement of the century, wouldn’t you think?

“I have an idea!” Yoosung ran out of the room, leaving you to curl yourself up again, until he came back, a pair of headphones in hand.

“These are the best noise cancelling headphones I own, and they cost a fortune so they’d better work.” He placed them over your ears, and immediately you noticed how muffled the sound became. Evidently it must’ve shown on your face, because Yoosung smiled even wider, nodding gently before picking up his remote again.

As the storm continued so did the gaming. At some point you guys ended up thrown about the couch, cuddling each other, and occasionally knocking elbows when the gaming got intense. When things were finally over you two lay there a little longer, although you’d taken the headphones off.

“Thank you.” You whispered, content.

“For what?” Yoosung smiled. “That’s what boyfriends are for.”

“Not all boyfriends.” You countered “You’re special. The best boyfriend one could ask for.”

And you meant it.

Jaehee

I imagine both you and Jaehee not being huge fans of thunderstorms. They frightened you, and to Jaehee the volume gave her a headache, not to mention the fact you were both living in a cheap apartment on the ground floor while the coffee shop’s purchase was still new; and the whole structure had this obnoxious habit of vibrating with both the lightning and thunder, leaving everything a bit discombobulated and very unpleasant.

The coffee shop wasn’t much better really, open as it was, the whole front being 85% glass and only 15% brick.

So when you both checked your phones and saw that storms were on their way it was all about planning.

Since you couldn’t afford to close the shop for the week you instead put a large display in the windows, putting up cardboard trees, birds, and whatever else would block most of the view.

You went through the store, making sure everything unnecessary was unplugged.

Really it was probably a bit overkill, or at least Jumin and Seven certainly thought it was, but hey better safe than sorry.

The apartment was given the same treatment, blinds and shutters were closed, toasters and charging cords were unplugged, and Aspirin and earplugs were stocked up.

The week of the storms was really incredibly unpleasant, with you two sneaking in hugs and kisses whenever the line of customers was small, squeezing each other’s hands when a particularly bright streak of lightning flashed, or when the thunder seemed to become unbearable.

No dawdling home this week, much to the chagrin of both of you, who’d taking to park exploring and other such mundane things that both you and Jaehee had missed out on, her due to work and you due to being shut up in Rika’s apartment for eleven days.

Nevertheless neither of you were particularly keen to venture out in the middle of a storm, so instead you two headed home, a night’s worth of musicals and cuddling ahead of you.

Dinner was spent in front of the tv, although usually you two usually made a point to eat at the dining table it was in the most windowed room in the house and thus not meant to be.

Zen’s beautiful tenor might not have been enough to completely drown out the storms, but it was certainly a help, not to mention the large doses of cuddles you were giving one another.

But really the best part about it was just being able to talk freely about your fears, you both having the reference that those who don’t suffer with what’s widely considered an irrational fear in modern times don’t understand.

And that was really what kept it together for you two. You’ll always be there for one another, you’ll always understand one another.

Eventually the clock struck the hour and you both realized that not only would there be work tomorrow, but musicals can’t much be enjoyed when you’re only paying half attention.

You got ready for bed, both making a final sweep for plugged in appliances that might burn out if there should be an energy surge.

Right before you two drifted off to sleep you gave Jaehee a small kiss. “What was that for?” She whispered. Everything was so beautifully comfortable, so cozy and intimate, and your happiness in that moment overpowered all fear.

“I just love you, I love you so much.” You replied. Jaehee blushed, but returned the kiss.

“I love you too. Forever.”

Jumin

It’s not that you hid it from him because you were embarrassed, well at least that wasn’t the main reason. It was more Jumin’s habit of blowing everything out of proportion, to the point of hindrance. That was really what you were afraid of, you just needed calm, need comfort, not yoga or whatever was to be the cure. And not that Jumin couldn’t or wouldn’t give you comfort, but the likelihood of him giving you calm was maybe a bit more debatable.

So you tried to keep it hidden, mentioned nothing of it on your way out the door in the morning, avoiding the topic in the messenger, even when Seven started to go on and on about windspeed – did the bastard know something?

Things seemed to be going… okay? I mean they weren’t great, you were constantly pushing down the urge to hide in a closet or something, but hey Jumin wasn’t aware yet. Success?

The trip home was certainly unpleasant, and the text that your husband was working late again certainly didn’t seem promising, but hey there’d be Elizabeth, and the bedroom had amazing blackout curtains. So, yeah, it’d be fineeee.

At least it would be if the damn penthouse didn’t have windows for walls. Something that certainly wasn’t normal or part of the regular plan.

Nor was it really possible to take a nap with the thunder so loud and your thoughts running high, really it’d probably be better on the lower floors if you weren’t so sure of people being there.

At this point the plan became less of “don’t let Jumin know, play it cool” to “survive whatever the cost”, which yes perhaps was also an overreaction on your part, but you knew damn well that all rationality had long fled, and you weren’t about to go chasing after it, that wasn’t what you needed right now. Rationality was also what had you go into a google wormhole about terrifying lightning related accident. Need one say more?

So you picked up a perhaps a bit disgruntled Elizabeth the 3rd, and buried yourself under the covers, stroking her fur at regulated intervals, trying desperately to pay attention to the video you’d loaded on your phone, to less than perfect success.

You wouldn’t say that you were dozing when Jumin came home, it was more like you were so deep in your fears that you really didn’t have room to pay attention to anything else.

“MC?” Jumin was instantly alert when you didn’t run to greet him at the door, something that had really become tradition between the two of you. Him being also a bit of a worrier – and a bit being perhaps a gracious way of saying it, lovely though it can be – his first thoughts were that you’d hit your head and passed out somewhere, but the fact that Elizabeth had also not come to greet him clued him in that you two were most likely holed up somewhere, perhaps napping, as had happened a few times before.

His surprise then when you turned out to be in bed, distinctly not unconscious or asleep, holding onto Elizabeth like a vice, was really immense.

“Darling, is something wrong?” You knew he meant something rather more akin to “Something is definitely wrong and I’m very worried and hope you tell me, if not I might become a horrendous paranoiac and never stop bugging you but I also want to be polite about it.”

You folded quite quickly, deciding that it really wasn’t worth it, you were in such a state, and the anxiety was still in complete control of your brain, excuses weren’t about to be made.

In a moment Jumin had enveloped you in a hug, which you were glad to accept, discreetly kicking his phone away hoping that he’d not notice it and get it in his head to send for a meditative trainer or some such thing, since that wasn’t what you were looking for, at least not at the moment.

Thankfully though he seemed more focused on your wellbeing, asking you to talk through your anxiety, gently drawing circles on your back in an attempt to get rid of excess tension. It felt good to be able to release your stream of consciousness, even if it was a bit embarrassing. Every time you started feeling a bit overwhelming you’d insert an apology here and there but Jumin would simply shake his head and assure you it was fine

“After all, you were so patient and understanding when I went through a crisis of consciousness, when all my emotions were suddenly flooding my mind. You listened to me then, the least I can do is listen to you now.”

After you’d exhausted your thoughts and you two had laid there a bit, cuddled together, basking in each other’s presence, you two went to the kitchen, where Jumin insisted he’d make dinner himself.

You weren’t happy to be in the windowed room again, but one flick of a discreet switch and they were suddenly shuttered closed.

“You can do that?!”

“Of course?”

“Ugh, the idle rich.” You shook your head and Jumin feigned horror. This act went on throughout dinnertime, another thing to help soothe your nerves, as well as Elizabeth, who was being awfully nice, curled up in your lap.

Every clap of thunder and Jumin would hold your hand or give you a kiss or hug, again trying to distract you.

Afterwards it was watching trashy soap operas – really you couldn’t understand why Jumin adored these shows so much, he really did secretly have a flare for the dramatics – and more cuddling.

As the night got later and you got sleepier you realized that, though the anxiety wasn’t completely gone, you really were quite content.

“Ah, I wouldn’t mind this every time it stormed.”

Jumin chuckled at that. “Why not? Anything to make you comfortable and happy.”

“You’re going to spoil me terribly you know.”

“Again, why not? Comfort isn’t spoiling someone, and if it was I’d spoil you rotten. You deserve the universe, I’m just giving what I can.”

And really the comfort he gave you was worth five universes at that moment, but wasn’t he always worth that much?

Saeyoung

Saeyoung’s reaction to your fear would probably initially be teasing.

Not because he thought it was funny, more his brain still found sincerity a hard thing to grapple with, and he found his knee jerking reaction be to try and make fun, enough fun for you to forget about everything.

You knew this of course, had long ago learned his patterns, his mannerisms and habits, and initially you tried to play along with it, after all the only reason he knew you were afraid of thunderstorms was because he’d caught you running into the closet on the CCTV in Rika’s apartment. If it weren’t for that you would’ve been perfectly happy with him never finding out. Surely you could humor him a bit.

Well anxiety has a funny way of sharpening one’s nerves, and by the sixth joke you were ready to pull your hair out, both from Saeyoung and from the storm.

“Hey Saeyoung? I really do appreciate what you’re doing, don’t get me wrong, but I… I don’t think this is going to be the way to sort it out.”

“Oh… I see.” Saeyoung faltered. Saeran, who was also not a fan and was thus gaming, probably with the volume at unhealthy rates, still managed to snort out a “I could’ve told you that.” Saeyoung shook his head apologetically.

“I’m sorry MC… I, uhm. Yeah…” For a moment you both sat on his horrifically battered couch, the tension rising. Saeyoung screwed his face up in thought, before launching himself towards you, wrapping you up in a huge hug.

“I.. Saeyoung-?”

“Cuddles are a miracle cure.” He said, kissing you on the forehead. “They’ll chase away the storms, just you wait, and in the meantime, how about you teach me how to make something other than sandwiches.”

“I know you know how to cook.” You pointed out, at least happier with this approach, but Saeyoung shook his head.

“I forgot. I can now only make ham sandwiches, and that is truly a sad fate. Won’t you help me? Oh cook in shining armor.”

You rolled your eyes at that “Isn’t being the hero more of your route?” But agreed to make something with him.

Saeyoung really put everything into the “I forgot act”, and you soon found yourself distracted by his antics, peeling onions with a vegetable peeler, “accidentally” getting flour in your hair, tackling you with hugs and kisses the minute thunder or lightning even attempted an interruption. You found yourself either laughing or breathless from his attention, and when your anxiety was too difficult to ignore you allowed Seven to wrap you in a hug as you buried your head in his shoulder, his arms acting as a barrier for the sound.

Dinner took a horrendously long time to cook, something Saeran was sure to point out, but it really did help. As you two were cleaning up dishes Saeyoung paused for a moment.

“Being a hero really isn’t my thing you know.”

“Huh?” You’d sorta forgotten the earlier conversation amidst all the antics.

“You saved me MC, from myself, my own destruction. The least I could is chase away a few thunderstorms. I’d do anything to make you happy. So, I hope that you can be happy.

“What a silly thing to say.” You said, giving him a peck on the cheek. “I’m already so very happy, so incredibly glad to have you in my life. Indeed, if this isn’t happiness then there is no such thing.”

He really was your hero, your knight in peculiar armor. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

V/Jihyun Kim

V hated thunderstorms. Although he’d agreed to get his vision fixed, the date of the surgery was still some months off, and in the meantime every storm sent him in disarray, the sudden loudness of the thunder a disconcerting reminder of his own vulnerability, the fact that if even one thing in his life shifted he was likely to run right into it.

Being someone who had such a visceral hate, he was quick to become aware of your anxiety as well. It was something he just picked up on, before you had the chance to even think about hiding it from him.

“I see I’m not the only one who hates when it storms.”

You weren’t really surprised by his fear, he’d made it quite clear how he disliked to be reminded of the vulnerability that came from being blind, his eyes were already an ever present reminder of his past, a reminder of the feelings that had rotted inside him, which were so difficult to reconcile with.

So during the storms he ended up focusing most of his nervous energy on you, preferring that to morbid thoughts about the path his life had taken.

Coincidentally you tended to have the same reaction, and thus stormy days, though far from pleasant, became a semi-pleasant ritual, full of affection and comfort.

You pointed out the lightning and counted the miles out loud for him, something that helped him ground himself in the world, feel a little more in control of the situation, and in return he kept up a steady stream of conversation, telling you how your fears weren’t silly, how much it mattered to him that you were happy, and all the things you’d do together when the storms passed.

Sometimes you two turned on a podcast, or a video whose audio V had heard multiple times before, another exercise in familiarity that helped comfort you two. He also didn’t mind whether you kept the lights on or turned them off, only wishing to keep at least one window open, to keep track of the storm’s progress.

He also was in the habit of singing or humming at random intervals, his voice kept you in the moment, rather than in an endless loop of “what ifs”.

By the end of the storm you two were often exhausted, which is why they so often ended with you two tangled together, already half asleep.

One such time you were about to sleep, only barely awake to nod when V said the storm had passed.

“Jihyun,” you mumbled, hearing a hum in return. “I love you.”

V smiled, hearing that from you always felt like a moment of rejuvenation, of sudden clarity.

Kissing your forehead he hugged you a little tighter.

“I love you too.”

Saeran

Saeran loved storms. Loved the sheer, raw, uninhibited power they exuded, the proof of how natural ruled above all.

You knew that. You also knew that storms were, in fact, the bane of your existence, and that you’re rather die than sit up and watch them with him.

But you also didn’t want to disappoint him, didn’t want to be a source of unhappiness in his life, so when Saeran eagerly looked out the window and called out “MC! It’s thundering!” You reluctantly dragged yourself over to watch with him.

At first it was alright if you focused on him more than on the outside, the awe and glee he took in watching the rain was endearing, the happiness marked so clearly and without inhibition. It was something that almost took your breath away in how beautiful it was, the joy of somehow who’d had so little of it.

Then the first clap of thunder arrived and you’d nearly sprained your wrist, slipping on the counter and banging your arm.

Saeran’s attention was immediately turned away from the thunderstorm and he looked at you curiously.

“Are you alright MC?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, it’s just, I’m fine.” You didn’t want him to know. It made him so happy, how could you ever take away from that, holding you bruised elbow you excused yourself to the bathroom for a moment, saying you needed make sure nothing was serious.

Of course that excuses could only last for so long, but the bathroom seemed such a comfort compared to the windowed rooms, and you lost track of all sense of time or space, curled up in a ball, leaning against the cold wall, the linoleum tiling keeping you grounded.

Eventually however it came to an end, and there was a short knock before Saeran turned the doorknob and opened the door.

“Something wrong?” He asked, immediately realizing the answer to that question after looking at your position. Kneeling down to face you he cupped your cheek. “Thunderstorms?”

You nodded, despite yourself. You really didn’t want to take this from him. But he didn’t seem to have felt like anything was taken, instead kissing you on the forehead and opening his arms for you to envelope yourself in them, something you did gratefully.

He held you, rocking you slightly, whispering random bits of words, random pieces of song, anything to keep your anxiety lower. Nudging the door shut once more you two stayed there for a while, and you finally felt yourself calm down.

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled.

“For what?” His tone was that of genuine confusion.

“For taking away watching thunderstorms from you. I don’t want to take anything away from you of course, I really don’t. I’m so sorry.”

“Oh MC…” Saeran peppered your face with kisses. “You haven’t taken anything away from me. I can still watch the thunderstorms, can still love them. Your fear isn’t something to be ashamed of, we all fear things in our lives, all have things we’d rather throw aside. I’m always here for you, always. It’s something I chose, and would choose over and over again. And that choice doesn’t mean I cannot chose to love thunderstorms, or watch them. It just means I have to make sure you’re comfortable as well. Besides, I wouldn’t want to do something that made you uncomfortable, not if I could do something about it. So don’t talk like that anymore, okay?”

You nodded, feeling reassured and slightly sheepish. He really was too good for words.

You two stayed in the bathroom until it became too uncomfortable, when you moved to the bed. It was a lovely evening, the storms having mellowed into a gentle rain.

Wrapped in Saeran’s arms you suddenly felt such a rush of emotions overcome you, contentment, bashfulness, love. Especially love.

You loved Saeran so much. And you always would.

Vanderwood

You’d really rather not tell Vanderwood.

You two were the cynics of the group, sarcastic, unfazed, or rather you hid your general emotions to the larger group in a swath of wit and humor. You really didn’t want to tell him that you were afraid of what was essentially a fear that had outlived its purpose.

It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Vanderwood with your true feelings, indeed sometimes you felt as if Vanderwood was the only person you could trust with your true feelings, a sentiment they had reciprocated multiple times.

It was moreso you already knew how much people saw your fear as overreacting. Didn’t need your partner to join the bandwagon of slight bafflement and bemusement, even if they couldn’t help themselves.

So there you were, sitting on the couch, storm on full display, trying not to dig your head into the side of the lazyboy as Vanderwood sat typing away on their computer.

Unfortunately the storm grew more and more violent, and you quickly grew more and more uncomfortable, your plans of nonchalance having really taken a critical hit.

Before you could think of a proper excuse to go into the bedroom closet and have a bit of a scream a huge clap of thunder shook the complex and the book you’d held in your hands plummeted to the ground.

Vanderwood immediately got up and shut the blinds. “I forgot you don’t like storms.” They said, closing the last of the blinds before turning around to your startled face.

“You know I don’t like thunderstorms?!”

“Was I not supposed to?” They looked vaguely confused, and not a bit amused.

“No.” You buried your hands in your palms.

“No I was or no I wasn’t?”

“You weren’t.” You groaned. “It’s embaraassing.”

“Why should it be embarrassing? Look, MC.” They walked over to you, taking your hands in theirs. “There are a lot of embarrassing things people are in life. Of which I’m at least half of them. I cannot say a lot of things with great confidence, but I can say this. You aren’t the least bit embarrassing for having an incredibly common and practical fear.”

“A fear that should’ve died out with the invention of bricks.” You muttered.

“Perhaps. But we both know that’s not how it works.” They replied. “So don’t feel the need to hide something like that. Okay?”

You nodded and Vanderwood smiled, before giving you a hug, something which you gladly reciprocated.

It was a quiet evening, one of easy cooking and laughing at miscellaneous videos, of making fun of spy shows and swapping stories.

In the end you probably shouldn’t’ve been so surprised.

Vanderwood was an amazing partner, caring, funny, observant, loving.

Perhaps it was okay to have such a fear around them. And if it was okay with Vanderwood than everyone else would have to suck it up, because really two people’s opinions mattered to you on the fact, yours and theirs. And in this instance you’d found yourselves completely in accord.

[trainsinanime]

Here’s a Miraculous Ladybug story idea that I may write some time, but probably not, because I only really care about chapter two of what would probably need to be at least ten.

Chapter one features Lila going after Marinette full-force. Not the weak boring „she rips up her notebook so hard that Marinette has to move to Gotham“ crap. We’re doing this properly: Lila convinces the Mayor that Marinette is planning to resurrect Napoleon and bring him back to power. So the Mayor has Marinette imprisoned without trial, because apparently he can do that in the Miraculous universe, and not even her friends or family know what’s going on.

Chapter 3 and later will detail how Marinette managed to escape the prison after fourteen years, with the help of a professional hypnotist. She discovers a pirate treasure on a small uninhabited island off the coast of Italy. With the money from the treasure, she buys the island and the title of nobility that comes with it, and returns to Paris. Rich, and now officially a countess, she will reward those who were loyal to her, and destroy all her enemies. (I haven’t yet worked out what that means in detail.)

But the really interesting part for me is what happens in those fourteen years. Here are my notes. Content warning: Dark, Major Character Death, Intended as over-the-top and silly but maybe not over-the-top enough, and of course, Adrien/Lila:

With Marinette gone, a lot of joy drops from the class immediately. Everybody loves her, and they only have weird rumours about what happened to her, rumours that they can’t believe even if the source is Lila. (No, we’re not doing class salt. Yes, that means my options for enemies in the later chapters are limited. I don’t care, I love Alya and the rest of the class and I am not throwing them under the bus.)

The first time Ladybug doesn’t appear to a fight, everybody is pissed. The second time, they’re even more pissed. The third time, they’re worried.

Chat Noir does his best. He decides to capture the Akumas, so Ladybug can cleanse them when she returns. For now, he stores them in mason jars. After a bit of thought, he decided to just store them in the cellar of the mansion, in a box labelled „Adrien’s favourite toys“. Nobody ever looks there.

No Ladybug means no cleanup. (The ear rings are kept in the warden’s office in Marinette’s prison, so Ladybug is out of commission for fourteen years). Adrien again tries to help, spending way too much time cataclysming debris. A child has lost their favourite plush shark in a river of chocolate? Chat Noir manages to „find“ and „clean“ it. No, it’s totally the same shark, not a new one that he just bought, believe me. The child is happy, but clearly it’s not enough.

The first time the Eiffel Tower is destroyed, rebuilding it is a matter of national pride. If Ladybug is gone, then France will step in. Gabriel donates a lot to the effort.

The second time the Eiffel Tower is destroyed, authorities decide to leave the debris as a monument. The statue for Ladybug disappears.

With no Ladybug, Hawkmoth realises that he can’t get the ear rings. Attacks decrease, to once a month, then once every three months; apparently just to check whether Ladybug has returned. Around Adrien’s eighteenth birthday, it seems like Hawkmoth might retire for good. On a completely unrelated note, Gabriel appears to have lost all will to live.

Adrien can’t escape Lila, who continues to be employed by Gabriel, despite her not being very good at photoshoots. But he does his best to keep his distance.

Shortly after Adrien’s birthday, he is away, while Lila has a meeting with Gabriel and Nathalie. But tragedy strikes: Lila arrives and witnesses Gabriel shooting Nathalie and then himself. Why would he do such a thing? Good thing Lila is such a reliable witness. The case is so clear that the police don’t even have to check the gun for fingerprints.

Adrien is stricken with grief. He tries to call his friends, but nobody will reply. It’s almost as if someone with access to Gabriel’s computer had used the spy software on Adrien’s phone to disable it. But that’s clearly absurd. There is only one other person who is there to comfort him: Lila. Adrien doesn’t like her, but she is someone familiar. She spends the night.

The next morning, Adrien is disgusted, and the two part ways. But two months later, she reappears and tells him she is pregnant and it’s his child. She has a whole speech prepared about how he needs to take responsibility, but it’s not necessary: Adrien will not let his child grow up without a father.

The next month, the wedding is a weird affair. Lila wanted something grandiose, and she got it. But all their friends know that this is anything but true love.

Alix wonders aloud what Marinette’s role would have been if she had been here. Alya jokingly says that she’d be the bride. Adrien overhears, and he realises: Yeah, she would have been. He loves her. Always had. This moment is when the only wedding picture is taken where Adrien smiles.

Seven months later, Gabriel Agreste Junior is born. Adrien loves his son with all his heart, but he has questions. But Lila and her top-notch expensive doctors assure him that this is perfectly normal, sometimes pregnancies take a month longer or two. Adrien is not fully convinced, but he doesn’t want to cause a fuss.

Around this time we also get a new Hawkmoth, who is much meaner, but doesn’t seem to have as clear a goal. Everybody’s best guess is that this Hawkmoth is just going after whoever last pissed them off. (Totally forgot this one in the original version of the post, sorry)

Two years later, Lila’s daughter Emma Marinette Agreste Junior is born. Adrien picked the second name while Lila was asleep. Since Lila is not involved with her kid’s upbringing at all, she has not yet noticed. This time, Adrien is convinced that something is up and Lila is lying to him. The reason: He has recently learned how babies are made, and he knows for a fact that he never did that with Lila.

He confronts her. Lila isn’t concerned, though. What’s he going to do? Divorce her? Then he’s never going to see the kids again. The things she could make a court believe… Adrien is horrified by that thought, especially since he knows very well that he’s the only one in the marriage who loves these children.

Meanwhile, Lila’s own career as an actress isn’t going well. She’s a great natural talent, sure; she can make anyone believe anything. But to be a great actor, you still have to turn up on set every day, and not just when you feel like it. Oh, sure, she has great excuses, but the jobs still dry up fast. And while you can make up a story that makes you look good about one make-up artist you made cry, maybe two, there is a point where it becomes a problem.

She blames Adrien for this, mostly because he will generally not back up her lies about where she was. He doesn’t really care, though. Despite her threats, what’s she gonna do, leave with the kids? Thanks to his father, Adrien had some top notch lawyers, and the pre-nup agreement is watertight.

Unrelated to all this, behold Paris’s new mayor, Chloé Burgeois. She’s been embroiled in controversy from day one. Some say she’s too young. Others say she only got the job because her father was mayor before her. Yet others point to her publicly difficult relation with her constant partner and off-again-on-again girlfriend Sabrina. But perhaps the biggest talking point is that in her office, she has a big painting of a certain heroine in red with spots, with the words, „what would Ladybug do?“ underneath. She’s never lost trust, and the press hates her for it.

One day, her old school friend Alya visits. Alya’s own relationship to Ladybug is difficult: Part of her still holds out hope, just like Chat Noir. Another part of her curses Ladybug for just leaving. Her goal now is completely unrelated to Ladybug, though. She has uncovered new things about the Napoleon Resurrection Conspiracy: The main witness (Lila) and the supposed ring-leader: Marinette. That can’t be right.

She wants Chloé to reveal the truth. Chloé herself has no idea, and very little interest in investigating. Her father told her that this was all secret, and that she should never touch this subject.

But she knows very well what Alya is asking for here. Alya got her big break as a journalist by uncovering the files on the Napoleon Resurrection Conspiracy in the first place. The revelation that it had all been swept under the rug was what caused the old Mayor to step down in the first place. If Alya is now saying that this might all be wrong, that means she’s placing her whole career on the line. That level of commitment means something.

For her own part, it took Chloé a while to admit it, but she was shocked and heartbroken by Marinette’s sudden disappearance as well. It was the first step to becoming a somewhat nicer person, and forming real bonds with her classmates. She has the access to the archives. She could uncover the truth, and maybe even find out where Marinette is now. It wouldn’t be popular, and it might be dangerous… but what would Ladybug do?

Chloé is all in, and it doesn’t take long until she meets Lila. Chloé would not consider herself a fan. She knows the difference between Adrien’s real and fake smiles. Lila refuses to clear things up, though. Instead, she tells Chloé that the french secret service does not allow her to say anything, and that Chloé better drop it if she knows what’s good for her.

Chloé ignores it. She also ignores it when she gets a threatening letter. After all, Ladybug was up against powerful people, too, and she never let that stop her. She even ignores when her own personal Yacht sinks for unexplained reasons, until her Butler and Sabrina explain to her some things about the history of the french secret service (actually I’m not sure whether this is too much in bad taste; the alternative would be that her vacation home gets set on fire).

She tells Alya that there is nothing to know, and blocks her cell phone number. The next day, workers remove the Ladybug painting. After all, what Ladybug would do is just disappear, right? Only fitting. Sabrina laughs a little too artificially at the joke. Yes, indeed. Ladybug would just stop doing her job when the people needed her. Perfect analogy.

With that, the basic outline is set. Chapter three would probably be short and tell the story of Marinette’s imprisonment. Chapter four is then where the real revenge starts.

Other points:

At various points, Luka is sadly strumming his guitar.

I’m not sure what to do about Marinette’s parents. The mean option is that they die, full of grief over their missing daughter. The very mean option is that they end up separating first. I’m not sure Marinette’s revenge spree works if they’re still around, and I definitely don’t ever see them turning away from her.

Nino and Kagami could do with an arc here.

Anyway, I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about this, but since I don’t know how to turn this into a full story, this is as good as it gets. If any of you guys want to borrow parts or all of it for your stories, please go ahead.

[avtrkyoshis]

You Burn First (zuko x f!reader) pt. 4

hii guys we really enjoyed writing this chapter there will be another ember island chapter so stay tuned for that :))

ao3 link 

masterlist // chapter 1 // chapter 2 // chapter 3 //

Rays of sunlight fanned out behind her. If Y/n thought the capital city was boiling, Ember Island was even worse. The midday sun made her itch her to rip off her heavy combat robes.

“So you’ve packed the entire palace armoury. But you forgot a swimsuit?” Ty Lee said brushing her hand against Y/n’s long sleeve.

“This isn’t exactly supposed to be a vacation for me,” she responded, looking at the bag she held packed to the brim with stuff. Y/n knew she had a habit of being overly prepared. Suki and the others always joked that maybe she was a little bit too paranoid. But after everything that’s happened in her life, she couldn’t help it. If there was anything she could do to keep those around her safe, she would do it. Even if it meant looking crazy.

Her beach bag, also known as the Fire Lord Zuko emergency kit, swayed on her arm. It was filled with anything you could possibly think of. Y/n grew more concerned for the Fire Lord every day. It was her job after all. And nothing more than that. She was simply a bodyguard who cared about the person she protected. Maybe she stayed up countless nights worrying about him too. Wasn’t that normal? She thought to herself.

“Ok, so the pink swimsuit or the white one?” Ty Lee said holding up the swimsuits to her face. Y/n hadn’t taken the time to notice Ty Lee digging through her countless swimsuits on the bedroom floor of the house they were staying in. Ty Lee always had the most impeccable fashion taste. Y/n pointed at the pink swimsuit with little frills on the ends. This was sort of exciting for her. She never really had the opportunity to wear something so cute on a regular basis.

Y/n quickly changed into it and it met with the others in the living room. She walked over to where Zuko stood.

“Oh. You look…different,” he said, his face started to get flushed. It was strange they had barely been outside and he was burning already.

“Thanks?” Y/n was not sure how to respond to him. She was technically on official duty. Was she allowed to accept a compliment from the Fire Lord? She wasn’t sure if that even counted as a compliment.

“Wow, Y/n you look so cute!” Suki said. The colour of Y/n’s cheeks was beginning to match her swimsuit.

“Says you! You always look really nice Suki,” Y/n said, fumbling her words and desperately hoping that Suki did not notice how awkward she was.

“You’re darn right Y/n,” Sokka wrapped his arm around Suki and grinned.

“Wait, can someone tell me why Sokka is here again?”

“There’s a very simple reason---”

While he was explaining the purpose of his trip here, a loud boat blared it’s horn in the distance blocking out anything Sokka was saying.

“And that’s why I’m on Ember Island,” Sokka said, acting like everyone had heard him talk for the last 30 seconds. Y/n simply nodded and everyone followed.

--

“What’s in the giant bag Y/n? Little apple slices and extra towels for Zuzu?” Azula said while laying down a beach towel for Ty Lee.

“Actually yes. I brought snacks, sunscreen and swords. Just in case,” Y/n stated now slightly embarrassed. Was it too much? she thought to herself.

Next to Azula sat Zuko attempting to put sunscreen on his back. Azula really was right. Maybe she was more his babysitter than a bodyguard.

“I sorta need help applying it on my back,” Zuko said.

“Sure--,” she responded. But before she could fully answer him Sokka interrupted.

“Why didn’t you say so earlier, buddy! Sokka’s got you covered.” Y/n exhaled in relief that Sokka had volunteered. Would everyone get the wrong idea by her volunteering? She was just doing her job in protecting the Fire Lord.

While Sokka sat down behind Zuko, Azula said, “Why, isn’t that a forward way of asking Y/n to rub your back.”

“Azula, stop teasing them. You promised me we would sightsee!” Ty Lee grabbed Azula and took her away. Y/n was incredibly grateful for that.

“Later losers,” she winked and with that, they were gone.

Her attention was drawn back to Zuko, who had just shouted in shock as Sokka slapped the sunscreen onto his back.

“You don’t need to slap it! You’re getting it everywhere!”

“We’re in the sand! And this way it spreads faster! I put lotion on this way, don’t worry about it,” Sokka shouted back at him, aggressively rubbing the sunscreen onto Zuko’s back.

Suki appeared next to Y/n, laughing, “Yeah, and Katara keeps telling you to stop doing it that way. You got it in her eye last time.”

“She doesn’t understand efficiency,” Sokka said, standing up. He nodded proudly at Zuko’s now protected skin, satisfied that his friend wouldn’t burn.

“Wanna check him out Y/n? Bodyguard’s seal of approval!”

Y/n blushed a little at Sokka’s phrasing. She glanced quickly at Zuko, whose face was also slightly red.

“Um, he looks fine to me,” she muttered. “If he does burn though, I’m holding you responsible.”

Sokka gasped in mock offence, “I’d never allow that! I know how sensitive our precious Fire Lord’s skin is. Plus, I know not to mess with a Kyoshi Warrior.”

Y/n smiled at his comment. She could see Suki rolling her eyes at him out of the corner of her eye, but she was smiling as well.  

Getting up from his spot on the beach, Zuko said, “Alright, are you done making fun of me? You know I can have you all banished. Who knows when I’ll snap.”

Sokka slapped his shoulder again, “I will never be done making fun of you. You owe me for all that time you spent trying to kill me!”

“That was years ago!”

“And it still hurt!”

Y/n leaned over to whisper to Suki, “Are they always like this?”

“Always,” Suki sighed. She let them bicker for a few moments longer before cutting Sokka off. “Okay! What do you both want to do on the beach? Sitting alone in the shade is off the table, so don’t even think about that.”

Zuko frowned, “That felt directed at me.”

Ignoring Zuko, Sokka flung his arms up in glee, “We should play chicken!”

“Chicken?” Y/n questioned.

“Yeah! That game where you sit on someone’s shoulders and try to push another person off of someone else’s shoulders! Trust me, it’ll be fun!” Sokka replied.

Y/n glanced at Zuko, who looked just as hesitant as she felt. He shifted nervously in the sand. Zuko being anxious about the game flipped a switch in Y/n, and she looked back to Sokka.

“Okay I'm in,” she said.

“Really?” Suki questioned. “I’m surprised you’re willingly relaxing. I thought you didn’t know how to.”

Y/n rolled her eyes at Suki, “Please, I know how to relax. Going along with Sokka just seems to be the most painless option.”

Zuko chuckled at her comment. Y/n started to smile at him, before realizing what had exactly happened. He had laughed. That was the first time she’d ever heard him do that and it had been at something she’d said. Up until this moment, he’d only ever lightly smiled at her. Y/n wasn’t sure how to feel about this development.

Oblivious to her crisis, Sokka was trying to decide the teams.

“Obviously it should be you with me, Suki! We’re a great team! Romantically and tactically!”

“I understand that! But isn’t it a little unfair for Y/n and Zuko then?”

Sokka made a face like he was thinking deeply and stroked his chin, “Fair enough, fair enough. Zuko and I do make a killer team too! Or should I pair with Y/n and challenge myself with an unknown teammate?”

Sensing the danger of Sokka trying to decide his teammate, Suki grabbed Y/n’s arm, “I’ll pair with Y/n. Kyoshi Warriors vs…”

“The Boys! No wait, The Swordsmen! Wait, Fire and Water!” Sokka shouted.

“I like the second one,” Zuko said.

“Is a team name that important?” Y/n asked.

“Just let him have this,” Suki whispered to her.

Y/n shrugged and the group walked towards the crashing waves. She’d never played this game before and was a little worried. She was also hesitant to go too deep into the water. Despite living on Kyoshi Island for most of her life, she wasn’t exactly an experienced swimmer. Before her panic could settle in, water was splashing just above her elbows.

“This seems deep enough! Alright Zuko, let’s go!” Sokka said, already starting to climb onto Zuko’s shoulders.

“Sokka, wait! Give me a warning next time!”

Y/n turned to Suki, “Would you do me the honour of climbing on my shoulders and knocking your boyfriend into the ocean?”

Suki dramatically put her hand over her heart, “I would love nothing more.”

Suki climbed onto Y/n shoulders much more gracefully than Sokka. Making sure she was balanced, Y/n got ready for the game to begin. She watched Sokka balancing himself on Zuko’s shoulders, allowing herself a smile as Zuko tried to blink out the water that kept dripping into his eyes. Their eyes suddenly connected and her smile turned into a challenging grin. Zuko smiled back at her, silently accepting her challenge.

“Alright, get ready… Go!” Sokka said.

He and Suki began pushing at each other’s shoulders. Y/n quickly realized how hard it was to keep her balance in the water and her feet slipping in the sand. She could see Zuko coming to a similar realization, his own inexperience showing. Despite that, Zuko held her challenging gaze. Y/n felt her competitiveness flare and she tightened her grip on Suki. No way was she about to lose to the Fire Lord.

Their game only lasted a few moments longer, ending with Suki landing a particularly hard shove against Sokka’s collarbone. He toppled back off of Zuko, causing water to soak the back of Zuko’s head. Suki let herself slip off of Y/n’s shoulders while laughing in victory. They exchanged a high five and Y/n looked back at the stunned Fire Lord in front of her. Caught up in her victory, she offered her hand to him.

“Good game, Fire Lord,” she smirked at him.

Zuko stared at her offered hand for a few seconds, before grasping it with his own and smirking back. His hand was warm despite the cool water and his grip firm. Before Y/n could release his hand, a wave hit her back, pushing her into Zuko. The water went up to her neck and a sharp panic shot through her. She’d forgotten her inability to swim amidst the excitement. Her panic clouded her mind and she reached out blindly in an attempt to ground herself. She only realized what was happening when she felt a warm hand on her back.

Y/n blinked, her eyes focusing. In her panic, she’d grabbed for the closest solid object. That had just so happened to be Zuko. They were standing in a poor imitation of a hug, her hands gripping his shoulders and his hands on her shoulder and back. He looked down at her, concern evident on his face.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

His voice quickly cleared Y/n’s mind. She pulled her hands back from him as if she had been burned. Her reaction caused Zuko to drop his hands from her as well.

Floating back and face burning, Y/n hugged herself, “I’m fine. I’m just not used to waves and swimming.”

Zuko furrowed his brow, “You can’t swim?”

“No. I’ve never needed to learn. It’s not like there’s deep water at the palace. You don’t need to worry about me not being able to save you like this.” she replied curtly.

“I didn’t mean-”

Y/n turned away, cutting him off. She knew that was incredibly rude but she couldn’t handle talking to Zuko anymore. Her face was still flushed with embarrassment and anger now. She’d never been that close to him before. She didn’t know why it bothered her so much, she was his bodyguard. It was expected that she’d get that close to him. Y/n ignored the fact that it was supposed to be to save his life, not to hug him out of fear.

“Suki!” she shouted. Suki’s head popped out from underwater, followed by Sokka’s. “I’m going back to the beach. You keep swimming.”

Suki looked mildly concerned but gave her a thumbs up. Y/n began trudging through the water towards the beach, but Zuko caught her by the elbow. She whipped her head around, anger in her eyes.

“Wait,” he said. “I’ll come with you.”

“You don’t need to-”

“Yes, I do.” he paused, thinking. “I want to keep you company after that. You seem pretty shaken up.”

She frowned at him. He gave her a shaky smile.

“Besides, you’re supposed to be protecting me, right? It’d be irresponsible to leave me alone out here.”

“You’re with the leader of the Kyoshi Warriors and a close friend of the Avatar. Not to mention you’re literally the Fire Lord,” Y/n deadpanned.

“You think that you’re not capable of protecting me then?”

Y/n narrowed her eyes at him. She recognized his challenge as an attempt to apologize without embarrassing her further. She sighed.

“Fine, come sit with me. I’ve heard how much you like to sit in the shade and brood.”

“That was one trip!”

Together, they walked back towards the beach.

masterlist // chapter 1 // chapter 2 // chapter 3 //

taglist

@duh-dobrik @inthebisonsmouth @thaliawhitex @brbtryagainlater @paenitetmi @firelordtea @awkwardnesshabitat @eridanuswave @inmyowncorner @aangsupremacy @eridanuswave @royahllty @dancerslovelife @lammello @biblemami @coruscant-n

[ghostgetter]

hehehe more wip from the klance fic I’m writing:

Lance fluffs out a gigantic blue comforter with flowers decorating the front. He folds it carefully, sticking his tongue out with expert, sharpshooting precision, before gently placing it on the ground next to the guest bed.

“Here ya go, Kosmo,” he pats the blanket repeatedly and the wolf obeys. He noses Lance’s hand and snuggles into the soft, make-shift bed. “Fit for a king.” He pets his fur for extra measure, smiling gently down at him.

“A king?” Keith crosses his arms, unable to control the soft smile gracing his features. Lance is unable to see how soft he looks, how content and happy he appears with his space wolf.

“More than any of us will ever dream of being,” Lance answers with an affirmed nod.

“Kosmo loves the attention,” Keith says, noting how comfortable his wolf appears under Lance’s hand. He’s a bit envious, which is stupid. Because he’s not a dog. And Keith doesn’t get “pet.”

Lance chuckles, rising up to his full height. “Yeah, well one of you has to.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” It comes out more defensively than he had intended, because really he’s just confused. Where’d that come from? The soft, domestic mood is suddenly squandered.

Lance mirrors his crossed arms, but in more of an annoyed posture. Like what he’s stating is obvious and Keith’s just an idiot, which Keith never stands for. “Uh, dude? We barely tolerated one another in Voltron. It’s only recently that you’ve even started staying over. I know my main default setting is to bother you still.”

“You don’t bother me,” Keith responds immediately, like a reflex. Like Lance’s words are an annoying house fly and Keith is the swatter.

“Huh?”

“You don’t bother me,” Keith repeats. The opposite, in fact. But he keeps that to himself.

“No, I heard you. I’m just confused.”

“About what? You don’t. You haven’t since way before the war ended. I dunno why you think otherwise,” Keith ensures.

Lance rolls his eyes and opens his dumb mouth, but Keith still wants to speak, so he does. He wants to make sure Lance gets how much he cares about him, even if he isn’t ready to say all that yet.

“I like being here. I like staying here with you. You’re fun and caring and my friend, my close friend, and I like staying with you when you let me,” Keith picks at the skin of his upper arm as he manages to keep a straight face. Somehow, potentially through the constant meetings with the Blade, he’s able to look at Lance as he speaks, unravels, throws up, whatever. But Lance...

Lance’s bemused face is dropping into silent shock. Why is this so surprising to him? Why is he so against this idea of them...them...

“I like being around your family. Your mom is kind and a good cook, and your brothers and sisters are fun. Veronica’s a great pilot and always tries to talk to me about stuff. You spoil Kosmo. You’re great, Lance. I dunno why you still think....you bother me.”

It’s silent for a bit, and Keith sees the rose grow on Lance’s cheeks under the green facemask, and part of him wants to step closer and graze them with his fingertips. Even at the expense of covering his hands in chalky goo. Even if Lance yells at him about hand oils. He watches Lance blink once, twice, thrice -

“Oh.”

Oh.

Oh, Keith feels like a moron now. His heart sinks and...he doesn’t normally unload that many emotional admissions in one sitting, and the build up is congesting his mouth. Suddenly everything he said feels like too much. Lance looks... flabbergasted? More confused? Shit.

“Okay, well...thank you,” and only because Keith’s observational skills have been drilled into him so fully, he sees Lance’s eyes shift to whatever is behind him. The awkward is worse than when Krolia forced him to speak in front of those Puigans a month ago and he forgot the name of their leader. Lance’s face, the red and the adverted eyes, is why he took so long to open up to people. “If you need anything, you know where I am. Right down the hall.”

“Right.” The awkward tension gets thicker as Keith forces a swallow. Now even he can’t look at Lance. He really shoulda just kept his mouth shut.

“Right. Well,” and now the classic neck rub. Fantastic. He’s fucked up to that level, apparently. Kill him slowly. “G’night.”

Once Lance swiftly escapes the guest room, Keith drags his hands down his face, like ripping off the embarrassment from his skin can ease beating heart. A long, loud exhale. Is this what it’s come to now? Realization of crushing on Lance - Lance, of all people, and now he throws up emotions all over the floorboards? Lance could barely look at him.

Things were so much easier when he was just reassuring Lance about his role with Voltron. Blissful and ignorant while Lance swooned over Allura.

He glares at Kosmo, snuggling into his comforter as he eyes his owner. Must be nice.

His heart is still pounding. Escaping under the covers of his bed is the only logical option at this point, so he dives in after turning the lamp on the nightstand off. Kosmo huffs in the dark, relaxing further, while Keith just turns and stares up at the ceiling fan.

He likes Lance. He really, truly, irrevocably likes Lance.

Lance, his used-to-be righthand man. Lance, who buys Kosmo toys and beds. Lance, who still wants to stay on the farm and refuses to get involved with anything space-related. Lance, who makes jokes about their rivalry still but actually believes Keith doesn’t consider him a close friend. Lance, who’s still grieving after 2 years without Allura.

He turns to face the door and burrows himself into the pillow.

Lance is in love with someone else, and she isn’t even here anymore.

If at all possible, his heart sinks even further.

He struggles to sleep; he always does in times of anxiety and restlessness, but this is different. His heart aches in ways he’s never felt before, because he’s never felt this way before about anyone. These feelings are new and unwanted, even though the one he carries them for is warm and inviting and a dream he wants to live by. Lance, of all people, the reciprocate of Keith’s newfound desires. How ironic.

Not for the first time, he dreams of deep blue that night.

[snkpolls]

SnK Episode 63 Poll Results (for Anime Only Watchers)

The poll closed with 114 responses. Thank you to everyone who participated!

Please note that these are the results for the Anime Only Watchers’ poll. If you wish to see the results for the Manga Readers’ poll, click here.

Anime only watchers, beware of spoilers if you venture over to the manga readers’ poll results.

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RATE THE EPISODE 98 Responses

It would appear that the response to this week’s episode is even higher than last week’s, with 99% giving it a score of 3 or higher. Nice!

Amazing episode overall, it really gives you the feeling that something huge is about to happen

The best episode so far. Music was perfectly matched with animations. 

Hype

i liked it!

This was an amazing episode and I can't wait to see what will happen next !

WHICH OF THE FOLLOWING MOMENTS WAS YOUR FAVORITE? 100 Responses

The cliffhanger at the end of the episode was by and far the most favorite among viewers, with 56% stating it was their favorite moment from the episode. It is distantly followed by the festival scene in which Reiner sacrifices his money to spoil the kids. And at a distant third, people got a good laugh at the stairwell scene where Porco gets spooked by Pieck.

WOULD YOU SHAMELESSLY EXPLOIT REINER FINANCIALLY IF YOU HAD SUCH AN OPPORTUNITY? 99 Responses

Looks like more than half (61.6%) of responders would agree to exploit Reiner financially (half of those without a hint of shame). Others would either consider it or reject the offer, in that order. 

RIP Reiner's money

WHICH FOOD WOULD YOU WANT REINER TO BUY YOU? 99 Responses

Pizza is the clear winner on this one (62.6%), followed by Desser at a distant second (25.3%). Just a little over 9% went for Sandwiches instead. The couple of other responders clearly cheated!

WHICH KID HAD THE CUTEST “BEGGING” EXPRESSION? 100 Responses

Gabi went ahead and knocked out her competition for this tournament (gaining 64%). Guess she really is cute, as she says. Falco’s in distant second (29%), followed by Zofia (7%). Poor Udo has gotten no love.

NOW THAT WE’VE SEEN MORE OF THE NEW CAST, WE’LL ASK AGAIN. WHICH NEW CHARACTER IS YOUR FAVORITE? 99 Responses

We’re back with this question, again. It would appear that Falco has won over the hearts of most responders, gaining 54.5%. Pieck the Enigmatic Cart Titan Shifter is in second place with a little over 25%. Gabi the Fiery Warrior cadet is in third place with 10.1%. Others gave their preference for Willy, Magath, Zofia and Udo in that order. Poor Porco has gotten no love! 

Love zofia but my favs always disappointed me.

WHAT DO YOU THINK OF PIECK CRAWLING ON ALL FOURS BECAUSE IT FEELS “MORE NATURAL” FOR HER? 97 Responses

When it comes to the scene of Pieck crawling on all fours, almost 60% seemed to think of it as either a cute or even a hot (you know what kind of hot) moment. On the flip side, almost 26% thought the scene was disturbing or simply sad. A few others either didn’t seem to care or thought the scene was funny. 

Cute,but sad since she's adapted to being this tool for war of the Marleyans

fan service

Pieck got a dump truck

mixed

Y'ALL NEED TO TAKE A DEEP BREATH AND TOUCH SOME GRASS, YOU HORNY F*CKS

WILLY TELLS MAGATH THAT THE WARHAMMER TITAN IS PRESENT, BUT THAT MAGATH PROBABLY CAN’T GUESS WHICH MEMBER OF THE TYBUR FAMILY HOLDS IT. WHO WOULD BE YOUR GUESS? 100 Responses

In retrospect, we should have included an option for those who have already been spoiled on the identity of the Warhammer titan, based on many of the responses we received. We’ve blacked out the pie chart to avoid spoiling anyone. But, in order from the first choice on the list to the last available choice, the following options were most favored: Willy, the old man, the old woman, the blonde mother, one of the children, the woman serving food, and one of the guards.

MAGATH AND WILLY TALK ABOUT MARLEY’S SELF-DESTRUCTIVE WAR HISTORY AND MAGATH NOTES THAT IT’S TOO LATE TO STOP IT. DO YOU AGREE WITH HIM? 98 Responses

Most responses assert that Magath’s prediction will come true in the end and Marley’s downfall will be a result of its own conduct (little over 56%). Some others dissent, arguing that although Marley will probably fall, it will not be because of its own previous conduct. The rest either can’t say for sure, believe Willy’s plans will save the nation or simply don’t care.

WILLY TALKS A BIT ABOUT “HELOS,” THE GREAT HERO OF MARLEY WHO SUBDUED THE TITANS. HE SAYS THAT MARLEY NEEDS ANOTHER “HELOS.” WHO, IF ANY, OF OUR PROMINENT CAST MEMBERS DO YOU THINK THAT NEW HERO COULD BE? 96 Responses

“I need a Hero! I’m holding out for a hero to the end of the-“, you get the point. Everybody needs a hero, right? It would appear that a quarter believe Eren could fit in as this metaphorical “Helos”. Almost 20% believe that none of them will fit this type of role. In third place we have our recently promoted Protagonist, Reiner Braun. Other popular options included Zeke, Levi and Falco, in that order. Gabi was written in for one response. Looks like we forgot to include her in our options. 😅

gabi... i feel very early seasons eren vibes from her

IN A SIMILAR VEIN, MAGATH CRITICIZES THE HELOS STATUE BY STATING THAT IT IS HOLLOW INSIDE. WHAT DO YOU THINK THIS MEANS? 98 Responses

When critiquing the statue itself, Magath noted that it is hollow. In that vein, almost 38% believe that Marley’s defeat of the Titans in the Great Titan War is a hollow lie. Others (17.3%) believe the story will simply lack a hero in the end. Almost the same percentage (16.3%) think that Marley’s defeat of the Titans *was* genuine, but their subsequent conduct is anything but heroic. The rest either believe there is some thematic substance in that statement, but aren’t sure what it is or think that Magath is just a cynic.

WHAT IS THE TRUTH WILLY INTENDS TO REVEAL AT THE FESTIVAL? 97 Responses

When it comes to discerning Willy’s plan at the festival, almost 65% were convinced he wants to reveal something about the history of Marley and Eldia. In distant second place (16.5%) we had folks believing Willy wants to reveal certain information about the Titans. The rest were either not sure or thought he wanted to reveal info about something else entirely. 

the war

WHAT DO YOU THINK WILLY’S “SOLUTION” TO THE WORLD’S PROBLEMS MAY BE? 96 Responses

We got a rather colorful pie chart for such a bleak question. The slight plurality (27.1%) believe Willy wants to obtain the coordinate in order to obtain the control of all Eldians, others (26%) believe he wants to commit genocide on Eldians living on Paradis island or perhaps wants to obtain the powers of all Nine Titans. The rest believe Lord Tybur either wants to commit genocide on all Eldians in the world or wants to make with the Ethnic group. A whole array of different opinions. 

the war Genocide of Marlians

I don't really know lol

DO YOU THINK WILLY CAN CONVINCE THE PEOPLE TO GET ON BOARD WITH THE “SOLUTION” HE WILL REVEAL AT THE PLAY? 97 Responses

When it comes to convincing the audience of the festival to support Willy’s plans, the overwhelming majority believe he’ll be successful, either in part (majority) or in whole (minority). The rather miniscule minority isn’t sure and even less people believe Willy will wholly fail. 

I think Willy's speech may lead to a serious division throughout Marley between people that agree with his solution and people that don't

marleyans are a bunch of sheeps anyways so i don't think they will even question his "solution" as long as it's about getting rid of eldians

WE ARE INTRODUCED TO A WOMAN WHO GABI SAYS IS “AN EASTERNER FROM HIZURU,” WHO APPEARS TO BE SYMPATHETIC TOWARD THE ELDIANS. DO YOU THINK THAT THIS WOMAN WILL HAVE ANY IMPORTANCE IN FUTURE PLOT DEVELOPMENTS? 97 Responses

When it comes to the “Easterner from Hizuru”, it would appear that a decent chunk of responses believe she’ll play some sort of role in the story later, either in relation to Mikasa (42.3%) or the Eldians (16.5%) as a whole. Others dissent and argue that she’s there to showcase people sympathetic to the Eldians in the world instead (24.7%). Finally, some are simply not sure (16.5%).

DO YOU THINK THERE IS ANY SIGNIFICANCE TO THE BASEBALL MITT? 97 Responses

It would appear that Eren has a baseball mitt. Does it mean there is any significance to it? I don’t know. I’m just a ghost writing walls of text. Anyway, a plurality (42.3%) of those answering this question believe that there is (significance) and that it’s a hidden message from Eren’s “family”. Some others also believe in the importance of the mitt (22.7%), but aren’t sure of what it means exactly. Others take a middle position (21.6%) favoring a symbolic interpretation of the iteam. The rest simply have no idea. 

From monkey boy and his perfect game ? Idk why tbh

Maybe alluding to Zeke, probably helps Eren where to channel his hatred

DO YOU THINK THAT EREN CAME TO MARLEY ALONE, OR WAS HE SENT THERE BY THE SURVEY CORPS TO FULFILL A ROLE? 96 Responses

When it comes to the status of the SC and Eren in Marley, the definitive majority believe they are there with him (59.4%). Almost 22% think he is there alone and without the consent of the Corps. On the flip side, 14.6% believe he is there alone, but wholly with the Corps’ consent.  

HOW DO YOU THINK REINER AND EREN’S CONVERSATION WILL GO? 95 Responses

A rather interesting development exists in the prospect of another conversation between Eren and Reiner. Also interesting are the predictions for this question. Just a little over a third believe they’ll have a civil talk, in contrast to their talk from S2. A little under a third believe the conversation will not have any yelling, but will still be rather bitter. Others believe that they’ll either start fighting or engage in another shouting match. 9.5% are simply not sure.

Eren becomes attack titan probably

ON A SCALE OF 1-5, HOW MUCH WOULD YOU LIKE TO RETURN TO THE SURVEY CORPS/PARADIS RIGHT NOW? 97 Responses

Finally, here is another recurring question. How much do you want to return to the SC/Paradis right now? A little over 50% are very eager, though a little under 50% state that they can afford to wait a bit.

Marley is kinda boring

ADDITIONAL THOUGHTS ON THE EPISODE?

I feel like the story hasn't moved that much or maybe there are just a lot of things that haven't been clarified yet. I did read some spoilers of the latest chapters but I can't seem to connect the latest episodes to the spoilers I have read.

Mainly gave it a 4 because I'm in the middle between superb quality of animation and my lack of interest in the Warriors, but added +1 because we are finally getting back to the SC crew!

Gabi is still annoying as hell, she's the effing worst

The build up is nice

I felt bad for Grandad Yeager, wish Eren could have patted his shoulder or something. Guess he's an asshole now. Would love to find out more about the baseball thing.

I can't wiat 2 weeks, i'm going to cry

The more they focus on Gabi, the more unlikable and unsympathetic she becomes. I really hope we don't have to deal with too much more of her after this arc.

It really felt like the calm before the storm. Very interesting episode. I just know something is going to happen during Tybur's speech and Eren's talk with Reiner. Can't wait! 

Sucks to be Falco ig

Ughhhhh, just a fucking vibe of an episode. I'll say it.... I like Reiner now😌😌 yeh I know.  This episode made me love the warriors crew despite me not giving an f about them before. I hope porco is secretly in love with Reiner and explains why he hated him so much. Still waiting out for [redacted]’s new side part, hopefully we will see him soon. Well... till next week friends ~C

wait too long for next T-T

WHERE DO YOU PRIMARILY DISCUSS THE SERIES? 91 Responses

Thank you again to everyone who participated! We’ll see you again next episode!

[ziracona]

i was just wondering what your favourite tropes and dynamics are to explore in fic? either to write yourself or to read!

Oooh, that’s a hard one to answer because I like so many! Uhhh...Let me think.

Well, one of my favorite tropes is definitely Found Family. What is really more satisfying and worthwhile than a group of damaged people coming together and slowly building trust and love until they are inseparably bonded and full of love and have found things they never thought they would? 

I am extremely weak to memory loss both because I have some myself, and the American Dragon Jake Long episode Homecoming ripped out my heart as a kid and left me suffering, then Code Geass stepped on it twice with Shirley the same way. So I really like memory loss centered tragedy tropes bc I am 3x weak to them. I am also weak to that trope where one person is trapped in a room with a bomb, or going to drown, or for whatever reason cannot be saved from dying, so a loved one goes and stays and dies with them too just so they don’t have to die alone. Frkn /shatters/ my heart.

I love hurt comfort a lot. I think my favorite scenes to write and read are often one person is completely at the mercy of person 2, who they have no reason to think will help them and are terrified of being hurt by, but instead of person 2 doing anything bad at all, they are kind and look after them and save them. I die for that. It is the lifeblood of my soul.

I also like big character arcs and well done redemption arcs (bad ones make me rage tho. If I was a card in a tarot deck, I’d be Justice). Personal growth, finding hope again, learning to trust or love yourself. I really like character studies, and I like in-depth looks at serious issues and complex and messed up situations. I also am a big fan of deeply important and lasting platonic relationships, be it familial or best friends or whatever, and like romances where the two in question (or more if poly) just try really hard to be good to each other and communicate well and are full of love and would die for each other. 

Love pets being a big element of story. Love language barriers, and like writing them/communication barriers. I am usually not very interested in stories (writing or reading) that don’t have good rep in a number of ways. Like writing disabled characters well because I see them get written very grossly so much (I like writing tons of groups this is just the one I did most recently, so it’s on my mind rn. I am disabled, but I’m also a lot of other things to & def don’t only focus on/be interested by my own stuff). I am kinda branching out from tropes to just elements now tho. Uhhhhh, tropes, tropes. I love the opposite of that stupid “If you kill an evil person you’re just as bad”--I am here to see people end the people who murdered their friends or abused them. It’s what they deserve. Not here for a woobie redemption arc for an abuser. Very tired of those & angy. 

I love humor in the midst of intense drama or horror or sadness. I’m big into massive sacrifices, but especially if it’s something other than death bc those tend to be more well thought out.

I adore characters who have been through awful things and suffered and been abused getting to actually heal and live happy lives instead of just dying the second they start to taste happiness. I love themes and tropes about the value and lasting nature of human connection and how important and lasting it is.

(putting the rest under a cut bc I am having fun but this be getting long)

Uhhh, I am obsessed with free will > fate and choice, and I really like humanity and things about what it means to be human, and ethics, but like, in an interesting way? Like, Terry Pratchett’s stuff really appeals to me. Like  “What have I always believed? That on the whole, and by and large, if a man lived properly, not according to what any priests said, but according to what seemed decent and honest inside, then it would, at the end, more or less, turn out all right.”    “Just because you can explain it doesn't mean it's not still a miracle.”   “The figures looked more or less human. And they were engaged in religion. You could tell by the knives (it's not murder if you do it for a god).”   “There are hardly any excesses of the most crazed psychopath that cannot easily be duplicated by a normal kindly family man who just comes in to work every day and has a job to do.”    “There’s no point in believing in things that exist.”    “You couldn’t put off the inevitable. Because sooner or later, you reached the place when the inevitable just went and waited.”  and   

“Yeah? How many worshipers have you got?”  “Fifty-one!” The newt looked at him hopefully, and added, “Is that lots? Can't count.” It pointed at a rather crudely molded figure on the beach in Omnia and said, “But got a stake!”  Om looked at the figure of the little fisherman. “When he dies, you'll have fifty worshippers,” he said.  “That more or less than fifty-one?” “A lot less.”  “Definite?”  “Yes.”  “No one tell me that.” There were several dozen gods watching the beach. Om vaguely remembered the Ephebian statues. There was the goddess with the badly carved owl. Yes. Om rubbed his head. This wasn't god-like thinking. It seemed simpler when you were up here. It was all a game. You forgot that it wasn't a game down there. People died. Bits got chopped off. We're like eagles up here, he thought. Sometimes we show a tortoise how to fly. Then we let go.  He said, to the occult world in general, “There's people going to die down there.”  A Tsortean God of the Sun did not even bother to look round. “That's what they're for,” he said. In his hand he was holding a dice box that looked very much like a human skull with rubies in the eye-sockets.  “Ah, yes,” said Om. “I forgot that, for a moment.” He looked at the skull, and then turned to the little Goddess of Plenty. “What's this, love? A cornucopia? Can I have a look? Thanks.” Om emptied some of the fruit out. Then he nudged the Newt God. “If I was you, friend, I'd find something long and hefty,” he said.  “Is one less than fifty-one?” said P'Tang-P'Tang.  “It's the same,” said Om, firmly. He eyed the back of the Tsortean God's head.  “But you have thousands,” said the Newt God. “You fight for thousands.”  Om rubbed his forehead. I spent too long down there, he thought. I can't stop thinking at ground level. “I think,” he said, “I think, if you want thousands, you have to fight for one.” He tapped the Solar God on the shoulder. “Hey, sunshine?” When the God looked around, Om broke the cornucopia over his head.

Are all just from Small Gods, and like, boy is that my kinda good shit. Love history and sociology and anthropology. 

I love people fighting to do something they know is doomed to fail just because they know it’s the right thing. I also die for characters who are loyal undyingly, and characters admitting they were wrong and trying to do better, and that trope where someone says something but the exact opposite is happening in the background or happens immediately after. Love that trope where someone should be dead but they just. keep. getting. back. up. to defend someone they love. Love the trope where character A dies and character B takes something of theirs like a bracelet or a necklace or a headband or something and wears it forever after. : (((    

I know there’s a ton more but ima swap to dynamics. 

Let’s see. I adore familial relationships so much? Blood family, adopted, doesn’t matter, it’s exactly the same. I am huge on one character becoming team mom or dad or parent, or adopting some of the others. I love parent-kid relationships, even with adults and older adults, because it’s just as important. I adore small children being cared for by gruff war-hardened people, or selfish dicks who have to be better for the kid, or kind people who always wanted a kid and lost their own or never had one, or who are happy to add one more, or big sisters Clemtine style stepping into parenthood. Live for that, and I seek out video games that let me play it. Very excited to be trying out Plague’s Tale Innocence, because you play as a big sis taking care of your little brother (he’s like 6? 5-8? I’m not sure). But it’s such a neat idea for a sibling dynamic to explore, because while they’re siblings and know each other’s name and have like, a familial bond, it’s also all kind of awkward and new, because he’s been sick for years and in quarantine with just their mom, so even though they’re siblings and love each other and like, baby brother trusts you, they don’t really know each other at all, and that is just fascinating and so cool to explore to me! I also love someone adopting someone else as their new sibling(s) and dragging them into the family. I love siblings where one starts to go evil or mess up, and the other sibling fights with everything they have to save them/bring them back/help them become good again, because it breaks my heart and sibling relationships are /so/ important to me.

I also love shit like Jeff in dbd, where one character adopts younger characters who just /super/ don’t deserve it, because as much as they’ve fucked up, they love them anyway, they just do, and they want to be there to give them support and a chance to keep trying if they’ll take it. And like, I love all of Legion’s relationships with him, but especially Joey, because it’s /so/ sweet, and Joey is just a scared kid hurting and alone and he wants /so bad/ just to be loved and thought well of and okay, but he’s terrified of getting hurt or killed, and confused, and guilty and afraid of what will happen because of all the bad shit he did, and Jeff is just so warm and forgiving and full of nothing but unconditional love and kindness, and in the sincerest of ways, and they’re such good friends, which is like, not optional to a good parent-child relationship. Or way older brother filling in for parent-kid, there’s a lot of overlap. Anyway! Also just cute shit where someone falls in love with the idea of getting to look out for and stay close to someone younger they want to protect and parent, and there’s this kind of hopeful and almost fragile unsureness that the other person will want or need them in that capacity, like Ace adopting Nea, and not just picking looking out for someone who needs it over former life of thrill, but like, never regretting that choice, and just being truly happy and fulfilled in the adventure they now are on.

For friendships, god. I like so much shit, I don’t know what to say. I am so sorry I am giving you a novel for an answer to this short ask, rip. But I just love all kinds! I like groups with an established rhetoric between them, who are just so comfortable in each others’ presence, and people you know love and value each other so much they’re going to be together forever just as much as the two other characters getting married. I love one is a nice person, and the other is an asshole, but they make an amazing team and balance each other out, and the asshole stops the kind one from dying doing shit for other people, and the kind one helps the asshole be just a little more in love with their friends and things other than themself, and they’re great together. I love idiot friends who riff off each other and do bits all the time, and ones who turn into the “Holy shit there’s two of them” whenever they hang out, and ones who are just so on the same wavelength they’re totally comfortable in silence together and seek it out and would die for the other. I like wingman to person who is dying of embarrassment dynamic, and hardcore fighty person protecting either small and easily hurt person, or just as great, protecting dedicatedly person who is ironically either just as tough as them or even more, but it’s still really sweet and kind of double soft and sweet because tough friend never gets cared for.

God, what don’t I like? ...People being toxic assholes together?

I like super opposites that mesh well, but look hilarious next to each other, and goofy best friends who shamelessly sing loud to the most embarrassing karaoke track they could find. Lesbian and himbo is pretty great. As is the opposite, gay dude and stupid amazing slut or bimbo. (Fkn Mateo and Cheyanne kill me). Sweetest person you will ever know surrounded by 20 people who would die for them. Person who thinks they’re unlovable and takes a long time to notice like all their friends already love them, and then they get to be happy. Person who has never once had a good relationship is dragged into a healthy friendship and /super/ suspicious at every turn because they just aren’t used to being loved and treated well, but eventually softens and probably straight up breaks down at some point.

Person who was formerly bad or did something super fucked up is forgiven and welcomed into a group which they can barely even understand, and they are full of guilt but their loved ones reassure them and help them heal and just accept them and support them. Friends who are super mean to other friend but like, in a loving way, and would also take a bullet for the friend.

Uhhh, for romances, my fave is characters who just fucking love each other. I am real tired of relationship drama. Like pining and issues and star crossed lovers are all great (I think of those, star-crossed lovers is my fave), but I mean like, the shit where people keep having misunderstandings or not talking or cheating on each other just so there can be drama--that I am sick of. I love it when person A does something super badass and probably a little unexpected and person B is like “That’s my wife!!!” or just goes : O with love in their eyes, and this happens constantly.  I love gushy mushy sweet displays of affection. I love relationships where the people who are dating were best friends first and still are after, all the way, and tease and rib and are so in love.

I like it when one person thinks they don’t deserve the other, but clearly their partner feels none of this and is always just like “Babe...” and hugs them and is just as in love, and helps them begin to love themself more. 

Uhhhh, I like it when there’s someone who doesn’t think they’re in love and there’s that trope where they suddenly get it and you get the Oh or the Wait in italics as it drops internally. I like ships where the characters balance each other out well or provide good support and get better together than they were apart, triple points if they’re super aware of that and comment on it. Also whatever the fuck Maureen Robinson and John Robinson in the Lost in Space reboot have going on. That’s like, goals. She’s chaotic evil living lawful good by sheer force of will, and he’s a himbo too in love to realize any of that and never questions what she thinks they should do beyond the physical logistics of it and would die for her and not think twice about it or the fact that she moves really fast to the pragmatic “Okay,”--not because she doesn’t love him, she does--but because someone does need to be alive for their kids and she’s just wired too practical for him to have to pry her off sobbing to not stay and die with him. (This happens verbatim in like episode 6, but it’s not a mega spoiler bc he doesn’t actually die--he just almost does. She figures out a way to save them both right before committing to it.)

I also like “two fools both in love but really nervous about asking the other if they are because of their past, or situation, or because this is the first time or first time with that kind of relationship, so there’s just intense romantic tension all the time where they pause mid-sentence to just stare into eachothers’ eyes and forget what they were saying, but they’re both too ineffective to just fucking go “Do you like me?” for such a long time. Hurt/comfort paired with pining. Uhhh, but Star Crossed Lovers is up there for sure. I love the pain of two people wanting to be together but it’s just /impossible/ and they know it but that doesn’t make the feelings go away, and it’s miserable, and maybe they’re upset, because they shouldn’t feel this way, but they can’t not, and it’s confused, and it hurts, but they’re also so /happy/ when they see each other. I like that good shit in any romance where the characters can just look at each other and they know, and you know. That’s the choice shit, I tell you that.

Jeeze I’m sure I missed stuff but this is already so long. Uhhh, I like so much I don’t really know how to answer. But my favorite like, vibe/....flavor genre? Is Hope Punk. Uhhh, and mostly I dig any relationships that end up healthy and sweet. I really like second-chances, and characters confronting and moving on past their bad or complicated pasts, or trauma, and healing. Hurt comfort is love, and so is angst with a happy ending. I like a good villain or a wonderful asshole, but I feel like characters that are just good and doing their best really get overlooked and undervalued a lot, and I am here for them. Like Sam Gamgee? One of the /best/ characters in LOTR. So is Bob Newby--and I do get the irony in them both being played by Sean Astin. But uh, anyway, I really like to explore how decent people try to act when confronted with terrible situations and choices, because I really value people who stayed sweet and kind and merciful and full of love even after all the awful shit life has put them through, and I really like writing about how /hard/ that is, and what it looks like, along with the other stuff. I also like characters who are very flawed and very medium being given something to lose and something to gain that go in opposite directions, and being forced to confront their reality and make hard choices. I like people being given intense opportunities to grow or to rot, and seeing which they’ll chose and why and if they’ll make it to the end. Mostly I just really love characters who try, even if they fail, because that can be a lot harder to do than it seems. I like dynamics where one character is very flawed, or in a bad place, but they love someone they think is amazing, and so they’re working hard to catch up to them, or to get close enough they can reach out and hold their hand, and are fighting to make it to a person themselves who can do that someday. I’m sure I forgot a lot and that this was super rambly, but I hope you at least enjoyed some of it! Thanks for asking! ^u^

[fanworks-library]

summary: youre just a completely ordinary college student living in a post monster world

pairing: dr w,d gaster/reader

tags: reader-insert, reader with a vag, noncon

You had never been very lucky in life. Some days, frankly, you wanted to give up. But you had determination and held on.

Recently, you were starting to feel like your determination was finally, finally paying off.

Even though you had bottom barrel grades and a shitty attendance record all throughout high school, you had gotten into your first choice university. On top of that, you had got a full scholarship that included room and board. You were sure there had been some mistake but you weren’t about to pursue that line inquiry.

Even this dorm of yours was a dream come true.

You had applied for a single person room; on a whim, really. There was no way someone like you would get it. But just a week before the move-in date, you received a letter from the school saying that under recommendation of your doctor a single person room was needed for you and your request was approved.

Well, you didn’t have a doctor. Like, maybe you needed one; sure, but you sure as heck couldn’t afford one.

You were benefiting from someone’s mistakes and it took you a few weeks to be okay with that.

While you had never been to the city the university was in before your move-in day, you had for, some reason, always wanted to live there. Your inexplicable feeling was right; you absolutely loved it. Not that you got out much, but you loved every quaint small business and aged building fronts. You loved the ancient trees, the fields of flowers and the cobblestone roads. It was like traveling back in time and made you feel, for once in your life, at home.

This was an opportunity of a lifetime and…

You were on the precipice of fucking it completely up every single day.

You had absolutely no idea what to major in so you applied under Undeclared. You had until the end of Sophomore year to make a declaration but you were already feeling like trash about it. Everyone else in your class had drive, had goals; knew exactly who they were and what they wanted to do. Except you.

You’d tell anyone who asked that you just wanted to get all the electives and gen ed courses out of the way, to which you often got mummers of support and “Good idea, I should have done that,” but you were fairly certain that your lie was transparent and others were mocking you with fake sympathy. You hated it.

Your classes were simultaneously overwhelming and under stimulating. You were struggling keeping all your grades above failing. Well, all except for one;

This semester you were taking Introduction to Monster History as an elective.

The speed which the overworld had gotten use to the monsters being back was nothing short of incredible. It was like they never left. By the end of the week, it was old news.

Especially in the city you were in. It was the first one monsters reached when they came down from the Mount Ebott. The outskirts of the city wrapped around the mountains base; civilization petered out, the last road turned into a dirt path that led to the woods that went all the way to the top.

You knew because you had walked it before. The barrier may have been broken but a fall like that sounded pretty good at the time. Last semester’s finals had been particularly killer on your self esteem.

But now, you finally had a class you were actually good at.

Even on your very worst days, you still dragged yourself to this class. You weren’t afraid to be called on randomly, to raise your hand or just blurt an answer out.

Sometimes, when you did your reading assignment, it felt like you had read them before. And even when you winged a test you basically got everything right.

Was this what it was like to be good at something? You were sure you had never felt happier in your entire life.

But you were still, unfortunately, you; so when the final project was assigned you waited the last minute to do anything about it. The final was in three parts; part one was your typical test, part two and three went hand in hand. You had to write a research paper and do an interview with a monster that later had to be quoted in your paper with proper citations.

At first that third part sounded pretty impossible but many of your classmates were monsters and most of them were really eager to share about their lives in the underground.

The professor had kindly set up a suggestion board for theses. But, as aforementioned, since you waited until the last moment, every last one of them was gone. That’s when you panicked and realized you better kicked it into high gear.

So, you spent the rest of the week pouring over your class books. Then over books in the library that were written by monsters (you were surprised how unorthodox and laid back the nonfiction books were written).

The more and more you read, the more you realized how absolutely in love with monster history you were.

You had to write a paper that would blow your teacher away. If you got a good grade on this…yes, if you get a good grade on this you would absolutely declare your major to History with a focus on Monsterkind!

You exhausted the library’s resources with speed that surprised you. You scourged the internet. Your interests jumped from one topic to another. Your notebook was filled with notes and thesis ideas. Many you deemed too boring after an hour of reading up on it.

You needed a way to narrow everything down and make a choice. So, you decided to make a timeline with different color highlighters, each  color representing an important monster to their culture and then in their colors you’d highlight your notes and the one that monster or that time period had the most interesting facts you would write about.

Maybe something even ridiculously specific, like trade of monsterfood during such and such time. You didn’t know what you were looking for until the third or fourth time you had to start the timeline over.

You had been, up until that point, ripping out the notebook pages, crumpling them up and tossing them on the floor because you had believed you were messing up.

But it wasn’t you that was messing it up (for once), it was something about the source material that was messed up.

Dates weren’t lining up right. Birth dates, death dates, dates of important events. Your yellow highlighter was frequently going over the purple one. And there there were gaps that none of the highlighters could fill.

You knew what your paper was going to be about.

Going back through all the books you had taken from the library and all the books you had for your class, you went through the text with laser focus. You returned to the internet until you were on the tenth O in the google.

Due to how long monsters lived and how peaceful they were, they didn’t really have that much history to get all tangled up in, it wasn’t like it was with humans. Everything flowed smoothly from one year to another, a clear and easy to see timeline like a 12 piece puzzle, except…except for one thing.

One piece of the puzzle that didn’t fit into any of the groves right yet came in the box with the others.

Armed with actual notecards and a notebook filled with actual honest to god research for once you were ready to start your paper at the final hour.

The blank word doc started at you and you back at it.

You attempted to pluck out some kind of a title:

Who is W.D Gaster? (You deleted it.)

Where is W.D Gaster? (You deleted it.)

When is W.D Gaster? (You deleted it.)

Your eyes were feeling kinda heavy. When was the last time you slept? Days likely but you couldn’t sleep yet not now that you were actually working on something. You still had to interview someone and this thing was due on Monday at 12:00 am on the dot and it was Friday.

Maybe it was time for a change of music, you thought but forgot what you were doing after opening the tab.

Time to throw in the town for today, there was no way you could work like this. You still had two full days to do this which was one day extra than your usual poor planning cram sessions. So, instead of whatever screaming metal you were going to turn on, you turned a nature sound generator on instead.

(You set it to rain on roof at 79%, wind in leaves at 62%, thunder at 100% with the second option in the green bar drop down menu) and forest ambience at 79%)

Your muscles relaxed the moment you hit the bed, falling back on it with a triumphant umph. Lulled by the sounds coming from your computer, you fell asleep before you could even get under the covers.

Something woke you up.

Your computer which should have been emitting the soothing sounds of a rain storm was now making an awful garbled static. It had cut through the quiet of your dorm so suddenly and loudly that it had woken you up. There was a strange rattling sound you recognized but you knew you shouldn’t be hearing. Your brain was too tired to worry too much about any of this.

It was dark outside, dark in your room. You didn’t bother looking at your clock to see what time it was.

You didn’t feel like getting up and investigating that strange sound, or fixing the awful sound coming from your computer. You were so tired that the discordant sounds couldn’t stop you from closing your eyes and getting back to sleep.

Something grazed your cheek gently and in your half asleep state you reflectively leaned into that something without a thought. Whatever was touching you gave off the feeling of being shocked, like static electricity; only low and cold and constant. It wasn’t entire unpleasant. And the feeling of deja vu rattled in your sleepy head. Was this a dream?

Maybe one you’ve had before?

And then you felt your hair get mossed about, which caused you to open your eyes. You didn’t turn the ceiling fan on before you went to bed, there wasn’t like a breeze or anything in your room.

You felt it again, more distinct this time, like someone running their fingers through your hair.

Startled, you went to get up as quick as possible. You mind rationally jumped to There Is A Massive Spider In My Hair. And you were going to get it out, only—

Your movement was met with resistance. Your shoulders weren’t even a half an inch off the bed before you found yourself pushed back down. Pinned.

There was that rattling sound again.

You attempted to move your legs. You could wiggle them a bit but not get them up. The same with your arms. What…? What was this!? Was this sleep paralysis?

Your heart was pounding in your chest, the room felt big and dizzy. The static from your computer was barely audible over the pounding of your own heartbeat in your ear drum.

There was another noise, that weird rattling sound again.

It clicked in your brain finally. It was the sound of your keyboard. It was missing a leg so it hopped up and down, rattling against your desk, when being typed on.

You had just seen the screen of your desktop for a half of a second when you had jolted up. Just enough time to see a line of new type on it before you had been pinned down to the bed.

Something brushed against your neck causing you to yelp. You turned your head even though there was no way you could angle your face to see what it was.

Outside the corner of your eye, you could see another line being added to your semi-blank word doc. From your bed you couldn’t make it out but it didn’t exactly look like letters. You could see a third line start just as something that most definitely felt like hand push your head so that you were looking at the ceiling.

You heard your keyboard rattle again.

You tried to jerk your head out of the invisible grasp but it held firm, the feeling of large unseen fingers dug into your jawline.  

Another invisible hand settled around your throat, this one squeeze for a second and you panicked. Maybe you were having a stroke, people choke to death then don’t they? You were having some kind of strange stroke and you were going to suffocate on your own organs.

The pressure on your neck grew tighter and tighter while was felt unmistakably like hands ran across your chest. It then let up completely, suddenly, while the hands on your chest explored your shape. You gasped for breath.

While you were busy getting air in your lungs the hands left your chest and started to navigate south. They ran along your sides, stretching down to your stomach.

With what limited movement you had, you struggled against whatever force was keeping you on the bed. It was moving under the shirt now, you tried to get a look at it but you couldn’t get your head out of the vice grip.

Struggling only made the unseen force hold onto you tighter.

When what felt very much like hands reach your bare skin again you gasped, the touch was cold yet electric and you could feel goosebumps being raised. And you could feel two new hands run down the sides of your hips to your legs.

They just barely touched your thighs as they rans down your legs, finger tips spidering over your skin. Harder, they pressed against your calves and then again up to your thighs, on the inside now before pulling your legs farther apart.  

You were starfished; pinned on your bed like a frog waiting to be dissected.

What felt unmistakably like a finger pressed itself against your lips as the sensation of hands returned to your chest, this time under your clothes. You weren’t going to let whatever this was in your mouth. You kept your lips such even as the fingers were massaging your chest, roughly then softly, pulling and digging in.

The energy they were giving up almost had you gasping but you kept your lips good and shut, that is; until whatever this was pressed down on your clit,phasing right through your clothes.

The sudden shock made you gasp and the fingers invaded your mouth. You gagged against the intrusion, attempting to push what really felt like two large fingers from going farther into your mouth, your tongue was overpowered and they slid down with ease, pushing to the back of your throat, where you started gagging anew, just when you thought you were going to throw up the fingers moved back. Your face was already beginning to feel sore from how stretched your lips were across the fingers.

The tip of an unseen finger was rubbing circles against your clit at a painfully slow pace, the movement felt almost mechanical; lacking any sort of variation.

The low static hum being pulsed into you from the touch caused your hips to buck and you were mortified at yourself, trying to gain purchase, trying to urge whatever was happening to you to happen harder and faster.

This hallucination, this nightmare, took the hint and picked up speed. You whined, your steadily heavy growing breath muffled by the fingers that were running the length of your mouth. Drool was slipping passed your lips, being pushed out by the friction of the fingers, running down to your chin.

You hips were jerking, everything was so overwhelming, hands were at your side running slow, tips of fingers barely grazing your skin, hands ran from your neck over to your chest, giving you the vague sense that your pulse and heart beat were being checked upon continuously.

Your hair was being touched; gently. Lovingly. Your checks being brushed upon by backs of invisible hands, and just when you thought you were at your limit, a finger was running the length of your vagina.

Only now did you realize how wet you were, feeling your own fluid being rubbed against your folds.

You were attempting to mentally ready yourself for what was going to happen next. You knew it was coming. The finger pushed itself to what you assumed was the knuckle on the single go, the length filling your limit. It knocked the wind out of you. The silent moan was caught in your throat and the force of the entry caused your upper half to lift up, braced against the hands that were holding your shoulders down.

You fell back on the bed and bucked your hips, which pushed the massive finger further in. You had thought there was no way that there was more to it, but you were wrong. It hit up against the farthest part of you and freed the muted cry.

Your moan was muffled by the fingers pumping away in the same slow mechanical pacing.

You were focusing now on keeping your body as still as possible but you were shaking. The feeling of electricity  ran through your cunt and you couldn’t take it.

Another finger joined in and, as wet as you were, you were feeling uncomfortably stretched. What was being inserted into you felt like burning against your clenching walls.

The fingers curled, keeping their steady pace. You sobbed against the fingers that were once again pushing the limits of your gag reflexes.

You heard your keyboard rattle again.

Losing yourself now, your hips rose and fell; desperate for more speed so you could just finish already.

A new set of hands held your hips firmly in place while the fingers worked. This time your movements didn’t prompt them to work faster.

You let out a panicked cry when your lower half was suddenly lifted up. You were being supported and your mind was scrambling for logical explanations.

None came to mind.

Two hands were gently spreading your ass and you gave a half-hearted struggle, you didn’t hand the grip to tighten but you wanted out of this. You could barely form complete thoughts at this point and you were dizzy from trying to make sense of what was happening.

The two fingers cried out and, despite yourself, you cried out at the loss in desperation. One of the two fingers pushed into your anus completely, your own fluids weren’t enough to make that entry comfortable. If you weren’t being muffled you were sure your dorm neighbor would have heard the noise you made.

The finger was slowly working in and out of you, just like it had in your pussy a moment ago.

A new finger had replace the two that had left and started at a sudden, quick pace, curling just right against your g spot. The pace was unbearable and the fingers holding you in place were gripping hard as your body attempted to curl up on itself.

The finger on your clit was coming down hard on you now. You could feel it bruising already and yet it wasn’t enough. You weren’t surprised to feel tears running down your face but you couldn’t remember when you had started crying.  Your choked sobs and moans were muffled by the fingers in your mouth. Your were just barely aware of the keyboard rattling.

You were so close to cumming, so close, so close…!

You knew a flood of feelings would hit you. Fear, shame…satisfaction, but for this moment your mind was blank as your own liquid ran hot down your ass. You heard yourself drip on your bed and the first thought you had when your mind returned was what a pain the laundry would be.

As you came, one of the hands on your chest travelled to your centre. You were still being held up by the hands which you had hoped without reason would just vanish after you came. You had your entire weight on them, limp and a final moan was shaking from your throat.

The hand at your middle pushed into you. The horrible sensation of been punched through like a fork stabbing through the plastic in a microwaved meal. Your moan turned into a scream.

The sensation not necessarily painful but frightening and wrong.

There’s a squeezing pressure all around your chest, all around your entire self. Were you dying!? Was this dying!?

You feel yourself lose consciousness.

[halorocks1214]

ბარტერი (a Thunderbirds fic)

Chapter 1: გატაცებული

AO3 Link

Word Count: 3892

Summary: And here they thought getting their father back was the least of their worries.

i make no promises for this fic. the upload schedule will be totally willy nilly because i havent really been feeling the whole writing thing and because of my other fics and projects and irl shit. i hate to admit it but im on the fence on whether or not this will actually be completed, BUT, i still am surprisingly proud of this so im posting it anyway. hope yall enjoy!

“Okay, what’s the dealio?”

Gordon easily skipped around his younger brother with a slightly faux-naive voice. They were currently out in the field, damn tsunamis not being picked up by the D.A.R.T. soon enough, and while Gordon knew better than to talk about personal things during a rescue, it was the first time in a while he even had the chance to talk to Alan.

Who was currently more forlorn than Gordon was aware he could be if the way he watched his toes kick whatever small rock they strutted past was any indication. It took a moment for Alan to register his older brother’s question, but when he did, he blinked a few times before looking at Gordon with a raised eyebrow, “What?”

Gordon was going to play this slyly. Treat it as banter, not an interrogation. Gordon idly leaned over and picked up a stick. He started to twirl it, never meeting Alan’s gaze directly, “I don’t know, you seem off. Just wanted to see if it was anything I could help with.”

Alan went back to kicking the pebbles, shrugging his shoulders in a way that said ‘this was a big deal but I don’t want you to know that’, “Oh, sorry, just tired. It’s not my fault I was having a wonderful nap in the closet only for John to make me tumble out of it due to the alarms. The fact that we’ve been out here for God knows how many hours doesn’t help.”

Gordon’s chuckles at that statement were slightly fake. Alan was hiding something, and if Gordon had to imitate Scott, well, then it was only Alan’s fault, “Yeah-huh. Sounds good.” He focused on the stick, pretending it was a wand and waving it around as such, “Decided on a college yet?”

Alan still didn’t look up, and Gordon could hear the noises of rocks getting kicked and traveling a foot or two. Alan answered him monotonously, “Uh, not really. I’ve narrowed it down to three. I haven’t brought them up with anyone other than Grandma though since the last thing I want to do is create a World War between our older brothers about which one is better.”

Gordon snorted but then got serious again. Dammit, Gordon, you are not letting him worm his way out of this. Again, “If I promise Scout’s Honor will you tell me them?” He cheekily grinned at Alan, which got a small smile out of the younger brother. Nice, getting closer. Now Gordon was doing that rubber pencil trick with the stick, way more immersed with the visual illusion than he probably should be, “Hmm, is it girl trouble?”

Alan rolled his eyes, but Gordon could tell he was getting annoyed, which meant the older brother was getting close. Alan kept his facade up, crunching a stick underneath his feet as he started walking just a little faster, “If you mean ‘Kayo chased me for accidentally spilling paint on Shadow’s nose’ then yes, I’m having lots of girl trouble.”

Gordon winced wholeheartedly and sympathetically. He remembered when he accidentally tripped and spilled water all over the front of her one night. He wasn’t aware she was a fan of throwing them into the pool just as much as he was until that night. It was in annoyance, but still, Gordon considered it a similar hobby between them regardless, “Yeesh, sorry for bringing up traumatizing memories bro.” Squinting at the stick he was playing with, he put it over his lips like a faux-mustache, lightbulb dinging in his brain with joyful glee, “Boy trouble?”

Alan groaned at started walking way faster than Gordon. Once he was about three feet away from Gordon, he shouted while still facing forward so Gordon could hear him, “Oh my god, let it go, Gordon!”

Bingo, Gordon thought he hit the jackpot. Throwing the stick away and keeping his distance from Alan, his grin went ear to ear with excitement at what he thought was figuring it out, “Oh man, okay, wait, hang on, is it that Bear kid? The one Scott rescued for the umpteenth time last week? Or, wait, didn’t Conrad visit you up at ‘Five two weeks ago during your rotation?” Giggling, Gordon rubbed his hands together mischievously, “Allie, how dare you. Romantic or not, it’s my job to help you out with these things--”

Suddenly and abruptly, and shutting Gordon up, Alan turned around and glared at Gordon while his fists were haphazardly clenched at his hips, “Fine, Mr. Nosey, you wanna know? It’s about Dad, okay?!”

Well, there went any ability to joke in this situation. Gordon lost his smile completely and stared mindlessly at his younger brother, who was breathing heavily and still glaring, but Gordon could tell there was a hint of anxiety behind his eyes.

Dad had been back for about two-and-a-half months now, and the Tracy family seemed to be settling into a new routine with him. Everyone was happy Jeff was back in one piece, none more so than Jeff than himself. They quickly figured out how to slowly integrate him back, starting with daily chores, reaching him having permission to help out with IR, and now they were getting ready to reintroduce him back into Tracy Industries.

The anxiety in Alan’s features was suddenly all Gordon could see in them, followed by Alan shaking his head and turning back around, “Shit-- forget I said anything, that’s not why--”

Before he could even think, Gordon shot his arm out to grab Alan by the wrist, his amber eyes wide with careful thought. He needed to think these words through. The idea that Alan was nervous regarding talking about his own dad was... “Allie… I know you didn’t have as much… time with him, but he’s your father too. You don’t have to hide any opinion about him for me, for us.”

Alan still wasn’t looking at Gordon, but the older brother definitely saw the tiny and hidden flinch the younger brother made at your father too. Gordon barely held back the sharp inhale he wanted to make. Okay, that was an entire suitcase, one he, unfortunately, couldn’t unpack right now (as much as he loathed to admit it that was a Scooter problem), so he focused the first problem he figured out, “Allie, are you upset Dad is back or?...”

That got Alan to turn around, “No! Jesus, Gordon, of course, I’m happy he’s back. The only reason I graduated right before we left was that Scott and John both told me to go do something while we waited because “the way you’re bouncing on your toes is going to burn a hole in the ground and Grandma won’t like that,” remember? I’m ecstatic he’s alive and back home.”

Letting Alan gently go, Gordon took a deep breath to reorganize his thoughts, “Okay, then what about Dad has got you so worked up?”

Alan was suddenly much younger than the fresh, getting-ready-to-go-to-college, young man Gordon saw this morning, “You remember that argument between Scotty and Dad, right? The one about five weeks ago that we shouldn’t have listened in on but did anyway?”

Gordon flinched, not wanting to remember that argument.

The two have made up since then, but it was a shock to just about everybody on the island, including John and Virgil, who the blondes nervously told the morning after so they could get some kind of reassurance the world wasn’t ending. In the Tracys’ quest to have their Fairytale Happily Ever After, it never occurred to them that their father might not like how they were running things.

Scott made a decision that didn’t sit well with the older man, and he let his son know that in tactless, Jeff Tracy fashion. Scott’s decision wasn’t the best per se, certainly not the worst, but he could’ve waited for some better options, but Jeff couldn’t just say that outright, that he was concerned about his son taking risks like that. He had to immediately jump to the idea that Scott’s leadership might be lacking suddenly.

It also didn’t help that Scott couldn’t just fucking say that, while he was sorry for being slightly rash, he didn’t like being undermined after years of successful leadership. He went straight for the fact that Jeff had been gone for the past eight years. Scott didn’t blame the man for it, God no, but the insinuation that Jeff wasn’t any better than Scott because of it stung everyone in the room. Because being reminded of the fact that Dad was technically a dead man for a big portion of all of their lives wasn’t bad enough.

Gordon forgot that Scott could be too much like Jeff for his own fucking good, as well as the fact that Scott did get it from Jeff Tracy of all people.

Adult men Gordon’s ass, two old and stubborn as hell mules more like it.

They were both stuck on the fact that now there might have to be challenges of authority, and frankly, now that the oldest outside of Grandma put that idea on the table, it bothered everyone else barely more than those two combined.

Jeff apologized for how he acted after Grandma ripped him a new one, and Scott apologized for jumping the gun a little bit too (after Grandma yelled at him as well), but there was no promising no second fight, least of all one like that.

It was a little like being a kid and watching Mommy and Daddy fight for the first time.

Long story short: it sucked ass.

Alan took a shuddery breath and brought Gordon down from that memory. Alan then proceeded to wrap his arms around himself, rubbing up and down in a weak attempt to ground himself, “I just… what if he had all these ideas about me while he was up there, and what if I’m completely different from those ideas and it disappoints him?”

Oh, sweet Jiminy Cricket.

What the hell was Gordon to say to that? Jeff was a loving a supportive father, more so than others. Gordon remembered all of his swim meets and such for a good reason, so his first response to that statement was easily of course he would be proud of you!

But there was an ever so tiny thing that grabbed Gordon’s tongue from saying that outright. It was honestly minor, so he wasn’t sure why it kept hitting him like a fucking truck.

Eight. Years.

Jeff Tracy was a remarkable man, and even more remarkable father, but nobody spent eight years in isolation, let alone spent it thousands of miles up in space, without it having some kind of consequence. Jeff would never outright disown his sons for anything as long as it wasn’t illegal or got themselves or others hurt, but he was human, and he had preferences just like the rest of them had.

So, disappointed? Hell no. But potentially shocked and uninterested? Less supportive than other endeavors? Gordon loved his father, but he had to admit that he was at a loss. There weren’t Dead Men for Dummies books anywhere, and it sucked to say it, but Jeff was different. They were different, and the only way they would know how this Jeff reacted to things would be an in-the-moment experience, and if Scott’s and his argument was the first concrete example they had...

With how different Gordon was to the rest of his family, he always worried that he would never fully fit in. When Jeff came back he was excited just as much as Alan, as the rest of his family, but Gordon was always worried about his dad the most. He cheered him on at his swim meets, sure, but Gordon was always keenly aware of how the man, outside of taking him to and from them and, well, cheering, lots and lots of cheering, never really asked more than How did it go, sport?

Gordon wanted to be the only Tracy with that fear. It sucked, but in the end, his family always came through even if they weren’t aware of his anxieties. Now that Alan has them, over his father no less…

That just brings them right back around to the start: Gordon would be lying to himself if he knew what Jeff thought of him, let alone Alan.

Alan was a perceptive person, and if Gordon lied to himself, Alan would see that and know Gordon was lying to him as well, and that would very easily make the situation worse.

However, before Gordon had any chance to say something, words pulled from his ass or otherwise, anything to ease his baby brother’s low thoughts, footsteps rustled in the distance, causing the two blondes to snap their heads to look to the side. What they saw were two men, one larger and older, another younger and seemingly out of his comfort zone, in a sense. Gordon was going to chalk it up to ‘being a rescuee after a tsunami’, but his squid senses were tingling, and he felt himself easily go slightly taut.

The younger stranger blinked a few times before snapping his head up to look at the two IR Operatives in front of him. His eyes lit up, and Gordon suspected it wasn’t because he was about to be rescued.

“Oh, shit, these guys are young. How much do you think they would sell for?”

And just like that, Gordon’s gut twisted into a killer pretzel and was dropped off a five-story building. This had to be a joke, had to be. These kinds of people were only supposed to exist in horror stories. In the dark parts of the internet that are mainly regarded as myths, created to scar the poor children who snuck onto their parents’ laptop without permission. Even if they were real, Gordon and Alan couldn’t have had that bad of luck to--

“Remember what we said about famous people? Forget the ages, these guys are International Rescue. Most clients will throw physicality to the wind if something famous is involved.”

Gordon also thought that your pupil shrinking to the size of the tip of a needle when you’re terrified was a myth, but as the blood completely drained from his face and left him white as a sheet, he had to concede he was wrong about multiple things tonight.

Holy hand grenade in a fucking handbasket.

The state of shock his body was forcing him to enter was bad, like, shock-blankets-are-required level bad, but trembles from a different body right next to him snapped him back into attention.

Alan was trembling, his grip on Gordon’s arm so tight that the older brother wouldn’t be surprised to find bruises when his outfit was finally taken off. There was only a marginal amount more color compared to Gordon behind those freckles, and Gordon couldn’t tell if his brother’s pupils were any smaller with the way the kid was flicking them around like crazy, “Wha-- what are they talking about?”

Ah, shock was one hell of a bitch.

Alan was 18 years of age, an adult. He flew a rocket into space for a part-time job. He also lived on an island where he was mainly homeschooled and was soon to be off at some kind of college (maybe even online classes). As embarrassing as it could be, his family wasn’t going to be the puritan fam that shoved the mere thought of sex to the sidelines. Alan had four older brothers who spent a significant amount of time on the mainland around other people more than the youngest could ever dream of. Most time of which was spent in their respective high schools (or Olympics fields, ‘cause Gordon wasn’t exactly of age when he still had school over there) with hot girls and boys-- similar hobbies or not-- that had the same level of hormones flying about.

They knew things and weren’t afraid to answer any question Alan had.

Also, Alan had a huge internet hobby; video games, browsing social media, you name it. The kid’s probably heard stories that would give Scott hernias for days. Alan had to have stumbled across the topic of human trafficking somewhere, whether it was the plot of a teen-rated video game or something as simple as a news article. At the end of the day, this kind of thing was something everyone was subconsciously aware of, but you didn’t think about it because A, it was awful, and B, more often than not, it didn’t happen to you.

But the way Alan stared at Gordon like the prankster held the stars in his palms-- as if he could snap his fingers and bring them to safety in the blink of an eye reminded Gordon that Alan was always a little bit more sheltered than any of them could help it. Alan was one of the last things their mother gave them, and the way John and he essentially became her just split into two people hurt more than any of them would be willing to admit.

Alan knew the horrors of the world firsthand, but he never had to fully grasp it because his older brothers would be there to shoulder it for him.

Always.

Like hell Gordon was going to drop that tradition today.

“Alan, run.”

With a shove and a half, Gordon ripped his little brother’s hand from his upper arm and sent him in the other direction. Gordon also ripped his own heart in half as he ignored the somewhat naive cry of Gordon! as it got quieter and quieter. Despite the guilt, Alan listened and booked it. Like a baby calf being told to run away from starving lions while the mom stayed behind to protect it. Gordon, mostly satisfied that his bro was safe, turned around and swallowed the bile that was rising in his throat.

He was hoping his glare could be as scary as Scott’s or even Virgil’s, but the way the creepy strangers just chuckled as if the threat he posed was no bigger than a tiny kitten filled Gordon with both anger and fear. They knew he was from IR. If they weren’t scared of him, what did that mean they were prepared for?

The older man stated an order, one that had Gordon’s blood run cold, “Go after the other. I got this one.”

Gordon got out half an angry “Hey!” before the man that spoke suddenly charged at him. On reflex, Gordon put himself into a fighting stance and prevented both of them from toppling over. He hardly considered it a victory, though, as the other guy who was ordered to run after Gordon’s baby brother was gone and out of sight before Gordon could even look up after nearly having the wind knocked out of him.

Gritting his teeth and shoving the man off of him, bringing his arms up and curling his fists with a glare brighter than his hair, the only plan he could go with was the one where he took this guy down as quickly as possible. Right now, the only solace Gordon had was the fact that his brother was a quick puppy. He didn’t only need ‘Three to move at the speed of light.

C’mon, Alan, show me why Track was worth it.

Focusing completely on his enemy, Gordon figured the man was intentionally slimy with his words, as the only thing he did in response to Gordon tensing like a cornered animal was to chuckle in cold amusement, “You’re a wily one, they’ll like that.”

Don’t throw up don’t throw up don’t throw up don’t--

Gordon reinstigated the fight with a snarl, landing a punch that didn’t cause as much damage as he wanted, but it was enough for him to gain a slight upper hand. The man wasn’t thrown off balance, nor did he majorly flinch back from the recoil, but he did understand that he had to play more defensively. It was like two stubborn stallions fighting over the mare in the area.

One young and smaller and quicker, his age not a roadblock but an easy strength. If he hit just right his opponent would topple over as quickly as he could throw his fists. The older one, however, was still larger, and while he might have been slower and less agile, his age allowed more wisdom and understanding. He’s probably seen (and kidnapped) many like Gordon, so he knew exactly how to play him like a damn fiddle.

It was hard to say who would win until one of them was either running for the hills, beaten and bloody, or dead at the victor’s feet.

Gordon wasn’t sure how long they went at it, but he knew it was longer than he liked.

He was somehow barely winning it regardless, and he was fully prepared to give Penny a big heckin smooch for the lessons that were currently saving his life, but even with her endless knowledge and background, she couldn’t prepare Gordon for dirty tactics. Stallions fighting over mares usually just involve two of them.

Right as Gordon was able to grab the man’s arms and wring them around his back, a magical third person appeared, different to the second one that went after Alan, like a freaking wizard with his own magic wand.

Which was also known as a cattle prod to most.

The pokey object was jabbed into his side. Fire filled his body, making him scream out in pain. Gordon remembered when he and Virgil messed with one back on the farm as kids and how they learned their lesson the hard way. He was hoping to never “learn” it again. Yet as a couple thousand volts flared throughout his abdomen, even with the suit, he had to relent and let go of his makeshift hostage. His body was on autopilot and it said get away from source of burning pain.

His body tried, oh, it tried, but what was previously his prisoner managed to stand in the blink of an eye and swing a fist into the side that wasn’t being tortured by an agricultural device. With another short, cut off scream, Gordon fell over onto his ass. His wheezes were brutal, the air not wanting to come back into his body despite itself. At this point, the logical part of his brain was telling him he wasn’t going to get away and he should save his energy to withstand whatever these people were going to do to him, but as always, the emotional part was overriding everything.

Shit, guys, help! Scotty, Virg, Dad--

He turned around to be on his hands and knees and scrambled to try and run as Alan did. He might be faster in the water than on land, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t one quick son of a bitch when he wanted to be. It was enough for his gym classes, it was enough when he needed to run away after a successful prank, it was enough when his grandma needed a new test subject...

But it wasn’t enough here.

The cattle prod was shoved into the back of his neck, and with it came darkness and a growing sense of dread.

Please, Mom, get Allie to our family.

[ryttu3k]

Back to Bloodlines! Gotta go see a man about a gargoyle. Sidequests galore!

Back Downtown! First stop is the Chantry, see what Strauss can tell us about gargoyles.

Welp! Sierra’s already decided she’s going to help free this poor fucker. Also, lbr, probably tell Isaac just who created them. I wonder how she’d react if she learned that Gangrel were one of the clans they used to make them...

Checked my email and the first one was Jeanette asking for a booty call XD;;

Goddamn I love The Deb of Night.

SparklingWater wants me to tarnish a restaurant’s reputation so he can buy it. Fuck off and nope :) And Mitnick is sending me off to Santa Monica! Okay, I can do that, and visit people at the same time.

Weird, most of the Thinblood kids are gone, aside from Julius :-\

Emails received, first node activated! There’s also an interesting proposition from Bertram, so while I’m still in Santa Monica, will check it out.

Glad to see Merc’s finally cleaned up all the giant bloodstains XD Always good useful info, although I’m definitely concerned about his warnings about Chinatown XD;; Kind of a shame he’s a Cammy! (Although I do like how his response about Isaac is basically exactly the same, ‘shame he’s an Anarch’ XD)

Bertram wants me to find some CD when I’m next at the Warrens. Yeah, can do!

...okay fuck it I’m curious I’m gonna go see Jeanette XD;; Sierra’s super gay anyway why not?

Speaking of sugar daddies, Jeanette just said she’s got Nines and Isaac as her new ones. Alas, I think it’s just a very... Jeanette way of saying she’s quite literally in bed with the Anarchs, given that I’m 90% sure Isaac is gay and Nines is... uh, focused on his hateboner for SparklingWater XD

...Board games, huh XD

Yeah, fade to black with some very awkward sound effects XD;;

So, uh, if you do the board games option, she says, “Think harder... and dirtier.”

Top response to that is, “Cards?” Oh, Sierra.

Back to Hollywood! I think I’m going to check out the cafe and see if I can help the reviewer write a good review just to piss off SparklingWater XD Actually, no, Ash’s club is right there and there was another concerning headline about him, so that first!

Hm. There’s a guy with a katana. I am getting a bad vibe.

Okay I thought that was the case, damn! I could have sworn I heard the name ‘Caine’ dropped in the song playing here, and yeah, what do you know...

God Ash’s storyline makes me so sad. Also knowing he’s based on River Phoenix doesn’t help, either.

Dangit. Glitch again. It seems to be any time there’s NPC dialogue followed by an action? And yeah, looks like it’s a known thing.

Ah well. Going to do some other stuff while I mull over how to deal with this one. The clothes-swapping thing does work, but, you know. Humanity hit :-\

Talked to the snooty reviewer. I wonder if this is the character Diego Lobo is based on XD He even has the same li’l moustache! Basically did the whole, ‘Hi, I’m a big fan!’ thing and fucked off XD

Weeeell convincing the gargoyle to ally with Isaac was a little on the manipulative side XD;; On the plus side, no need for fighting, at least? And Sierra’s ride or die for the Anarchs, so she would have a starry-eyed, “They’re the good guys!” view over them...

Reported back to Isaac. And yeah, totally dobbed in Strauss XD Sorry dude I’ll ally with you next run. Do wish you can just tell Isaac outright, “I’ve joined the Anarchs, I’m only spying on the Camarilla”!

Huh. Welp. RIP Muddy.

Hey, Nossies! Do you think maybe it’s a health hazard for your large warren of vampires to have piles of sharp pointy splintered bits of wood lying around?

Found the CD Rom! Man, nothing dates a game like technology. Bet a modern remake would use a USB XD Awww yeah computer skill boost!

Huh. Made it to the salvage yard, guy in a suit flat out vanished. Obfuscate? HEY. STOP THROWING CARS AT ME. Aww jeez he started a fire good thing the game forgot about Rotschreck XD

I think that’s what we call a bittersweet ending. Talked him down without a fight, showed empathy, suggested he focus his energies on justice with the Anarchs. And like... yeah, not exactly good people he was targeting!

Let’s head back downtown and get that hub installed, then call it a day!

God bless invisibility mode, making my life so much easier. Just picturing Sierra looking around like, “Huh, I was nearly executed here!”

Next location is in Hollywood, and happily, there’s a mission from Beckett! :D That’s over in Santa Monica - meet with some guy to see about a Sabbat guy seen at the library. Beckett doesn’t want anything happening to the books, dangit!

[femaleboysblog]

♥ super(hero) love ♥

| hwang hyunjin x superhero!reader | sorry for any mistakes! english is not my first language!

part i | part ii (final)

word count: 3.4k

warnings: tumblr!au, fanfic writer!reader x fan!hyunjin, enemies to lovers, fluff!!!, minor violence cause u know superhero stuff yadda yadda, some cursing here and there, (1) alcohol mention, 

A/N: just rewriting some old stuff :) | gender neutral reader (if you consider dude a gender neutral term lol)

“ Hi y/n! I’m sorry if i’m bothering you, but i just came by to say that i’ve read your last chapter last night and i can’t help but fall in love with your writing, you never disappoint! You’re always so creative when it comes to making stories and putting them into words, it’s almost like you’ve lived them! haha. So i just wanted to ask, where do you get your ideas? What are your inspirations? With love, Genie ;)”

 Damn it. I stared at the ask i just received for a few long and tortuous minutes, definitely more than it was actually necessary. But hey, don't blame me for that, i mean, how in the hell i'm supposed to answer that? I can’t just go and say "Hi again Genie! Thank you for all the love, i really appreciate it! I get all my inspiration on my day-to-day life as a superhero. You probably have heard about me, i'm that one person with white clothes that shows all the time - if not every single day, in the morning news for saving and helping the city and their beloved citizens. Most people just call me 'the light hero' even though they know the right name for the supervillains, in special, Scarlet Devil - my arch enemy. In case you don't know my superhero name either, i go by Starlight. Kinda lame, i know. But it fits with the backstory of how i got my powers. Since it's a situation i went through, of course i'm going to know all the details in full experience and in first person, even that one where the protagonist rips his pants in the middle of a fight in the street and in front of everyone, only to reveal his red underwear constrasting the rest of the outfit, that is something i will never be able to forget, sadly. Hope i didn't disappoint you!" Let's be real, i could. Kinda.  But i won't be doing that for obvious reasons, i don't want even more people after my back because of this, the police is more than enough.

I sighed, pushing my chair closer to the desk and cracking my fingers so i could write something in return that didn't sound suspicious at all. "Hi Genie," i started, already struggling a little,"I really appreciate asks like this and i'm also happy to know that at least one person likes the lame things i write! :) I get all my inspiration from.." No, stop, stop. I can just go all in like that, i have to be subtle. Normal writers usually get their inspirations in a lot of differents things and ideas, if i say something like that there is a chance that it would come out weird. I think. "I get most of my inspiration in, well, superheros, of course. I read a lot of comics, books and i really like watching movies and animations with any types of heros. :)" Sent. That actually went a little better than expected. "Genie" whoever it was, sent another ask only a seconds after, i clicked on it already starting to feel anxious again. "That's so cool! I suppose you are into superheros in real life too. If so, are you fan of any of them?" Why did they had to send questions that are so hard and complicated to answer like that? The only superhero i know well enough to pretend that i am a fan of is Jeongin, you probably know him by Spark. But he also reads my blog and wouldn't let me live if i ever said i'm his fan, another thing i'm not really found of. Another superhero i'm really close with would be, well me, of course.

"Actually, i do. I'm a big fan of Starlight for some time, what about you?" I answered, my choice of words trying to be as lowkey and casual as possible, putting the right amount of weight in them. This person, whoever they were, seemed to be nosy sometimes like a shy high-schooler wanting to keep the conversation going with someone with that they liked and in a way, that was most likely the situation. They’re the only person who follows my blog for some time that i remember constantly sending me messages and checking up on me but the one thing that was different this time was that the person, my fellow readers, forgot to put the ‘anon’ option on this time, their blog url shined brightly and effortlessly on my computer screen.

This time, Genie took a while to answer, so i took that as a chance to take a look at their blog. Clicking on their url, i started scrolling down their posts. I couldn't help but cringe really hard when i started noticing that most of their posts was reblogs from fyeahscarletdevil and others fansites with cheesy compliments in the tags, they seemed to be a really big fan of the supervillain, my supervillain. The one who puts kittens in really high places where they can't come down anymore, the one who sets fire in close neighbourhoods backyards and gardens to ruin their grass and flowers they worked so hard on, the one who sets dogs out of their leashes suddenly creating an army of dogs or anything that would cause disturbance in the peace of those around him in the world. I want to say i am starting to see red out of anger but in all honesty, that would make me even more pissed. Red is his color, just like white is mine. Unclenching and relaxing my jaw, - bad habit, i know - i hadn’t even noticed Genie had answered. “Oh really? I’m a major fan of Scarlet Devil!” No shit, Sherlock. Duh. “I think he’s a great dude who fits perfectly in the whole ‘model’ supervillain concept! Especially when it comes to Starlight too! They both are made for each other and have a perfect chemistry, they would be nothing without one another like soulmates. I probably sound like a total nerd now, but thats what i think lol wbu? - Genie” They signed in the end, even though it was obvious it was them. Not only did this person ship me with my arch enemy, they were also a big giant nerd and a huge fanboy of the red devil. Rubbing my forehead, i prepared myself to write back a long and sharp reply arguing against everything they said, ready to win and probably lose one of my readers in the process. Or more than one, you never know how many creeps who are his fans are lurking on this website.

Turns out Genie, was a very cute boy called Hwang Hyunjin who lived close by the neighbourhood i lived at, he was tall and acted very shy when he wasn’t talking about things that he liked very much, such as supervillains, dancing and comics. After our argument that day about which one was better - Starlight and the one who shall not be named, we got extremely close to the point i couldn’t go one day without texting him and in some nights we’re one of us couldn’t sleep, we would call the other and talk for hours. Since today, we both had the day free, he suggested that we met in person for the first time and the weather being intensely hot and stuffy right now, we settled in the shopping, going for a walk and eating ice scream while getting to know each other more and maybe even watching a movie together. But if that’s not obvious enough already, i have a major, gigantic, mega, blast, huge, enormous crush on him. From the way he softly laughed when he talked about this new move he learned with his group of friends who danced too, from the way he asked me how my day went and actually listened to me talking about it carefully showing he actually did care, the way he blushed at every compliment i gave him. I could feel my heart beat faster with the thought of seeing his cute moles in person and of even having an opportunity to hold his hands. But, was this a date? Does he even like me back? Would he stop talking to me if he found out i am Starlight? Would he start liking me only because he found out i am Starlight? No, i should worry about all of this later. I took a deep breath in hope to calm myself down, looking at my phone. I’m not going to bring it with me this time, what if Jeongin calls me for an emergency or him being a trickster and ruining the moment? I shook my head. Y/N, you can’t think like that. As much as Nini can be a little shit sometimes, he’s still your baby brother and you need to be there for him when he gets into trouble with your uniform, fists and powers ready to help him. Grabbing my phone, i ran by the door hoping i would be able to get there in time.

I checked my phone. And then, checked again. No calls or texts from spark boy and most importantly, Hyunjin. I sighed in frustration, am i about to be stood up by my crush in our first time meeting in person? Is it bad that i’m getting ice scream before he shows up? Too many questions, calm down, ok? You’re the city’s biggest hero, you got this. - Hyunjin, Jin, Jinn-i said out loud to myself to distract from my anxiousness as i paid the lady for the ice scream but my line of thoughts were interrupted by well, another voice. A soothing voice. - Genie. Did you call me? You have three wishes. - he replied jokingly with a sweet smile in his lips and holding three fingers up. I just stared at him, amazed, not sure of what to do. It was like an angel had just spoke to me. - W-What? - he asked softly, his cheeks getting red out of embarassment. - Nothing, i just...I can’t believe you’re really here... - I trailed off while hugging him tightly. The way he hunched a bit to put his chin on my shoulder making my heart beat faster inside my chest. Get it together, Y/N. - Wait, - he stood back a little, to look at my face properly - You didn’t think i would leave you hanging, did you?    - Well, it wouldn’t be the first time that happened. Nothing personal. - i said, trying to laugh it off. - Then you’ve been going out to dates with the wrong guys. If i couldn’t come, i would’ve called you or still had came here to let you know we can’t spend the day togethe- - D-Date? - i gasped quietly but he was still able to hear, his face getting a tad more redder.  - Ye-yeah, i mean, if yo-you want to, i’m okay with that with thi-this being a date. Yeah.- he shrugged, looking down while visibly embarassed. - Yeah, i want that. It’s a date then! - i added confidently after he nodded, acting like it was no big deal for me. - Is it okay that i got ice scream without you? Sorry, it’s just that it’s so hot today, i couldn’t help myself. We can go back to the line if you want to! - No, it’s okay. Shall we? - he offered his arm which i accepted, his boyish eye smile making it even harder for me to control the butterflies in my stomach. I was falling for his charms, indeed. After a few minutes walking side by side and commenting on the things we saw on the windows of the stores, i decided i should finally take initiative. - So, what did you do today? Besides coming here, of course. - i asked with an interested smile before turning to my ice scream, the cold on my tongue seeming to help me deal with the hot weather better. God, why is it so hot today? What’s going on with the weather? - I slept really late before waking up and coming here, i almost lost track of the time. - he laughed lightly.  - Oh, same. - i replied in a flat tone. Right, cause i totally didn’t take two hours to get ready for Miss ‘I woke up like this’ right here. - Unless for the time part. Did you stay up praticing your moves? - Something physical like that, yeah. - he said, serious. - Did you stay up last night too? - Yeah, actually. - i agreed, regretting instantly. I stayed up all night because Jeongin had trouble sleeping, nightmares which made him cause a blackout in the whole neighbourhood by accident. Me, being the good older sibling, brought him to the energy station of the city and helped him bring all the power back before tucking him into bed and waiting for him to sleep again. If only had it been that easy., tsk tsk. On my way to dragging my sleepy little brother back home, i was met face to face with my arch-enemy straying through the city’s street during the night, his shameless bad-boy persona flirting with me while showing off his dark jacket and threatning to set my shoes on fire making my blood boil again. The reminder that i shot his hand for touching me, leaving a lightburn mark. My brand. - Are you okay? - My date’s voice cut me off. I shook my thoughts away, i already spend too much time thinking about that damned boy who liked setting my life on fire. Sometimes too literally. - Yeah, i just have too much on my mind, i guess. I stayed up most part of the night because my brother couldn’t sleep..I had to hold him until he fell back sleep so he wouldn’t have nightmares. - Oh, i didn’t knew you had a brother! - he looked surprised, rolling his sleeves up while guiding us to sit somewhere more reserved. - He’s not really my brother, he’s like a....consideration brother, if that makes sense. It’s complicated. - In fact, it really isn’t. I really do consider Jeongin my brother, i take care of him at any and all times especially at matters that his parents couldn’t understand, his powers. But i can’t just explain that to any normal person. - I see. I have a brother too, actually. Older. His name is Chan. - he replied brightly. Frostkiller. No. Not every Chan you know is the frosty meanie who happens to be partner with the Scarlet Devil, i’m sure there’s a lot of Chan’s all there, in the world. Far away from here. I smiled back, making him laugh lightly, his eye smile showing up again and making my heart skip beats. He had his chin propped on the palm of his hand, his eyes looking down shyly, his pink lips pressed together in a small smile. - Aren’t you hot? I mean, i feel like i’m melting here even though there’s AC here. I don’t know what’s going on today with the weather. - Oh really? I don’t feel anything, i even thought today was a bit chilly, actually. - What? - i gasped loudly, stretching to touch his forehead with the back of my hand - Are you okay? You aren’t sick, are you? - Don’t. - he stated coldly, closing his hands around my wrist to stop me, his warm fingers digging on my skin. But it was a bit too late, my fingertips touching his forehead already, i flinched taking my hand back, fearing it would burn my skin. - Hyunjin, oh my god! You’re on fire! Aren’t you with fever, shouldn’t we head to a hospita- - No. I’m okay, really. Don’t worry about me, okay? I guess i’m just that hot, pun intended. - he opened a sweet smile, winking - I’m going to buy us something to eat, sit still. - i stared at him, mouth open, still on shock. What does he even mean with ‘i’m okay’? I felt like i just had touched a heated oven or fire. Pure fire. I stared at his back, confused. I have enough experience to know something was definitely up, something not common. My area of expertise. I opened my lips, about to argue back but something caught my eye as i analised his back. Red. I got up from the table, charging at his direction with my fists closed and ready to feed him his own teeth. - What do you want- Oh! - he turned around, his face flushing and his eyes getting a bit bigger because of our proximity. - Give me your hand. - i demanded in a stern manner while stretching out my own hand. - W-What? - he gasped innocently, not affecting me now that i know he’s not so innocent anymore. I pulled on his wrist, turning and examining his forearm and instantly finding exactly what i was looking for. - What’s this? - i questioned, trying to hold back the poison on my tone. He looked down, biting his lips nervously. - Ok, you got me. I stayed up last night cause i was partying with my team colleagues and one of them was so drunk he started playing with fire and i tried helping him before things got worse but he ended setting my sleeve on fire and burning me. I didn’t tell you cause i was scared of what you would think about me, i don’t want you to have the wrong impression. - I bit the inside of cheek, thoughtful. - It doesn’t look like a fire burn though? - he gasped like a fish out of water, i didn’t care about our surroundings and if we looked like a couple arguing, i let his arm go ready to throw my second accusation at him. - What’s this the- Before i could finish and stick my hand behind his back snatch the evidence from his pocket, i was interrupted. Dance the night away, let’s dance the night away! Ooh! I sighed loudly, taking my phone out of my pocket. and turning my back to him. - This is not over yet. - Hey, Y/N. Could you- the voice in the other side of the line said quickly but i cut him off. - No. I’m in the middle of a date as we are speaking, ok? I told you that earlier! I really like this guy and something sketchy came up, i can’t do my light thing right now. - i whispered the last part. -Bu-But, Y/N! - Here we go, the whining - I’m about to have my ass frostbitten! You need to help me! I’m your brother! Are you really just gonna leave your little brother freezing here? - Jeongin whined loudly, hissing noises echoing in the background. I flinched, already picturing the mess on the street with tall buildings half-frozen and snow covering the sidewalks and cars. - Is the grumpy old dude there? - Yes! And very much gladly, Scarlet Devil isn’t here yet. Lucky you. - Can’t you just tell him to calm down? I’m sure he won’t hurt you if you do that, he loves you just as much as he loves his penguins on North Pole. - Very funny, ha. Just come here, you firefly. - Fine! Let me make up an excuse then. - Thank you, Y/N! - he replied in a singing voice. - You own me a pizza. - i said flatly before hanging up. Turning around, my date boy scratched his neck, his cheeks visibly red and hyperventilating. He looked like he would melt away at any moment out of embarassment. - I gotta go. - Yeah, me too. My room mate texted me and he needs help with the, hm, - he coughed before continuing - Caking a bake,i-i mea-an, Baking a cake, yeah.. - Sure. - i nodded at him briefly and in an awkward way before leaving. - Bye. - Wait! - He reached for my arm - I can still text you, right? - he questioned shyly. - Not if you’re gonna keep lying like this to me, Hyunjin. - i see. - he nodded back after giving me a hurt puppy look and letting of of my arm. I felt my heart clench at the sight, i just wanted to hug him and give him a chance to explain himself but i needed to talk with someone first. I gave him a weak smile before going my way, knowing i had broken his heart. Maybe Changbin was right, i had a bad taste on guys.

[jawnjendes]

i will take your pain | shawn mendes

chapter 15/15, university au, shawn x goth oc

AN: last chapter bitch.

masterlist | playlist

A number of people stopped Shawn for selfies and autographs after the show. An even bigger number of people bought merch, and were walking around the bar wearing T-shirts with his name on. Shawn felt like he was in the clouds, but there was still something he had to do before he let himself fly. He pulled out his phone during the short two minutes he had between fan interactions, wanting to text Ann. He had lost her when the crowd moved to meet and touch him, and he wanted to make sure she wouldn’t leave so soon.

For once, she texted first.

“Meet me outside when you can.”

Shawn moved a little quicker through the people who wanted selfies. It still took all of forty five minutes to get to all of them. Some wanted selfies, others wanted a conversation, and one specific fan really wanted Shawn to take her pink cowboy hat. Shawn had a different girl on his mind, though, and wasted no time to get outside once he was free.

Ann was by the lounge entrance, arms crossed and leaning against the wall. She was almost hard to spot in the dark, because of her equally dark attire. Shawn could never miss her; She was the beauty in the dark, after all.

He approached her, a soft smile on his face. He opened his mouth to speak, but once again, she beat him to it.

“I’m gonna talk for a minute.”

“Please,” he said with a nod.

Ann looked around, watching people walk past. Then, she looked up at the sky, noticing the dark clouds. Shawn looked up as well, only to receive several raindrops to the face. Ann gestured for Shawn to follow her. She lead them just a little up the road and stopped at an alleyway.

“We doing a drug deal?” Shawn joked.

“Shut up.”

“Okay.”

She sighed quickly and looked around again, covering herself with her black denim jacket. “Um… I really loved your set. Like, I forgot how much I loved seeing you perform. You look so good, so happy. Radiant. And the songs! I don’t even have the words!” Her voice was getting higher pitched and just a little shaky. “I’m happy that you’ve been writing and singing again after… after everything I put you through.”

Shawn tilted his head. “You put me through?”

There was a pause as Ann rubbed her hands together, and it definitely wasn't because she was cold. She looked at the ground, then the sky, then at the street. When she spoke again, her voice cracked.

“I took a lot of my feelings out on you. You were just trying to help and I kept pushing you away. And not just this semester, but while I was recovering from surgery too. And you were having nightmares because of me and I feel so, so guilty for it.” She paused to clear her throat. “I thought the only option was to separate and… and I’m sorry for you pushing you away when I was going under.”

Shawn felt a sting in his throat, his heart pounding. “I told you I’d do it all again. Wouldn’t even hesitate.” He stepped closer. “And the nightmares… that’s not on you. It’s because of you why I went to therapy. I wouldn’t have gotten the help I needed if it wasn’t for you.”

Ann’s eyes were shiny under the nearby lamp post. “I… I didn’t even know post surgical depression was a thing. I didn’t even know something like that could be traumatizing. I, I thought if I was going to regain my strength and independence and ease my guilt… I thought I had to do it alone, like how I used to. I just wanted to go back to who I was before the surgery. But I’ll never be that person again. And I can’t - I can’t do it alone. I need you.”

Shawn closed the gap between them and cupped her face. “I’m here, I’m here. I’m not going anywhere, okay?” He kissed her forehead gently, and then her head was against his chest. His own tears fell as she cried silently.

Really, he had no idea just how deep this thing went. It wasn’t just a case of cabin fever that spiraled, or arguing that went too far. Ann was grieving the person she was before the depressive episode hit. She was mourning a loss. In return, Shawn was just angry at her and pushing for her to open it all up. If he had known sooner, he would have been better at giving her the space she needed. He would have done more for her.

“Hey,” he said softly, making her look up at him. “You know you’ll get through this, right? And I’ll be here for you no matter what. I’ll do it all a thousand times.”

Ann sniffed. “Let’s hope we don’t have to do it a second time.”

Shawn offered a grin.

“And anyway,” Ann continued, wiping her tears with her jacket sleeve, “I love you, or whatever.”

“I love you too.”

“And if it wasn’t obvious, I’m calling off the separation.”

He grinned even wider. “Seriously? You’ll be mine again?”

She shrugged. “It’s not like I ever wasn’t.”

Shawn felt his insides turn to mush. Just a minute ago, they were both emotional wrecks. He leaned in to kiss her, but Ann was suddenly smiling wide too. Their lips touched swiftly, Ann holding his wrists, sparks and fireworks setting off between them.

“Don’t make a big deal outta this when we get back in there,” she mumbled.

“Who do you think you’re talking to?” Shawn said back.

She sighed. “Fine.” Then, she grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him out onto the sidewalk, in the rain. “Might as well make it extra fucking cheesy.”

Then, she pulled him in for a deep kiss. Shawn was so consumed by all of her - her lips, her soft breaths, her scent - he couldn’t even be mad about getting rained on. His arms went around her waist, pulling her close as his mouth moved slowly with hers. They paused for a breath several times before joining lips again, Ann running her fingers through his now drenched hair. Her tongue slowly touched his bottom lip, making Shawn pull back.

He kissed the corner of her mouth, then her cheeks. He opened his eyes when he heard her shaky breath, concerned that she had started crying again.

“Baby-” He cut himself off, realizing that her jaw was chattering. “Are you cold?”

“Yeah. Aren’t you?” she replied.

Shawn nodded, now noticing the intense chill on his arms. “Let’s get back inside.”

~

Most of the afterparty took place at The Cameron House, meaning that Shawn didn’t have to play host to all of his friends and some strangers. After 2AM, everyone was pretty partied out, giving Shawn and Ann a way out. Somehow, Shawn still spent another hour saying goodbye to friends and fans who were on their way out as well, while Ann waited at the bar. After a couple of drinks, spirits were high between the two of them. She wasn’t in a hurry to leave.

Shawn didn't even have to ask her to come spend the night. Actually, Ann told him that Stella was her ride, but she took Camila home.

"I'm sleeping over at yours for the convenience," she joked when they were finally in the car.

He reached over and rubbed her arm. "The convenience being that you love me?"

She grabbed his wrist. "Shhh…"

"Nah, you love me, I heard you say it!"

"You're cute or whatever…"

He took her hand and kissed her fingers. Tonight has just been way too good, and it was definitely going to get better. Ann returned the pressure in their hands, smiling to herself.

They got back to the apartment only to discover a squeaky cat. Henry was on the kitchen counter, her green eyes wide and borderline demanding. A strange thing about her was that she didn't properly meow, she just let out tiny squeaks and mewls.

"Ooo, someone's mad at me," Shawn said as he set down his guitar case.

"Why?" Ann asked as she leaned against the kitchen sink.

"I may have forgotten to feed her before I left." He scratched Henry's chin, and she nuzzled into his hand. "Yeah, she's being cute because she's hungry. Do you want food, Henry?"

The feline mewled again, completely alert. She mewled even louder when she heard the familiar shuffling of the bag of cat chow.

"I know, honey, don't yell at me," Shawn told her as he filled her bowl. "Don't come yelling at me in a half hour when you finish your food."

Ann giggled from behind him, making him turn to her.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing," she said as she stepped towards him to snake her arms around him. "You're cute with your cat."

"How many drinks did you have?" he asked in response.

"One and a half, and it barely did anything."

She clearly didn't see how flushed her cheeks were. It was insanely adorable, Shawn couldn't help but run his thumbs across the red patches on her face. Brown eyes surrounded by heavy liner never looked so goddamn pretty. Black lipstick never looked so good. How did Shawn end up with someone like Ann?

He noticed something shiny on her jacket collar. Moving her hair aside, Shawn noticed the roses pin he got for her, and smiled.

“You really liked these, eh?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” she replied. “They’re grave markings! You know me and Death are lovers!”

Shawn hummed. “I love you more than Death does. He hasn’t even taken you out yet.”

“He tried, but I wasn’t ready for that kind of commitment.”

“You’re too cute. Drunk, but still cute,” he told her, kissing her nose.

Ann craned her neck to reach his lips, and he didn’t hesitate to give back just as much. His fingers tangled into her hair, hold her close as he finally kissed her the way he had been wanting to for months. It wasn’t full of lust or a need to rip each other’s clothes off, not this time. Their lips pressed together softly, lingering when they pulled apart. Ann rested her head on his chest, actually hugging him now. Shawn wrapped his arms around her shoulders and held her close.

“I really missed you,” she mumbled.

Shawn might as well have ripped his own heart out and gave it to her. “I missed you too. So much.”

Ann kissed the center of his chest, her nose nuzzling against the hair on his skin. “I love you so much. Like, I’m probably in love with you and I’m terrified.”

He practically melted into a puddle. “Don’t be. I’ll take care of you.”

The balance of the universe was restored. Everything means something again.

~

“Ann, wake up!”

Brown eyes flipped open, Annalise’s entire body jerking by the sudden noise. She squinted at the bright sunlight entering the room, and she rubbed her eyes. She had less than two drinks, she couldn’t possibly be hungover.

Shawn’s face was hovering over hers, wide awake and completely delighted. Gently shaking her shoulder, he cooed, “Ann, baby, wake up! Wake up! Are you awake?”

She reached up to push his face away, but he grabbed her wrist and kissed her hand.

“I got a message on Twitter!” he exclaimed, holding her hand to his cheek.

“So?” she grumbled, wanting nothing more than to be cuddled back into slumber.

“Ann. It’s from Bella Santiago.”

She blinked a few times. “Shut up.”

“I’m serious.”

“Shut up.”

“She wants to fly me out to Los Angeles.”

“Shawn I’m gonna kill you!” Annalise snapped as she sat up.

He showed her his phone, where he had the message open. Annalise read it, mouth hanging open. She looked at her boyfriend in disbelief. It wasn’t just a mere follow. It was going to be something more.

_____

lmao is it really over? nah. 

NEXT SERIES: Shawn Meets... (a separate taglist will be made for that series, let me know if you want to be added!)

taglist: @normalcyisoverrated-beyou @ilsolee @mendesromano @1-800-khalid-mendussy @kitykatnumber @strangerliaa @iloveshawnieboi @goldenmndes @shawnsunflower @shawnvvmendes @shawmndes @ruinhoney @someoneunimportantxx @calyumthomas @yourdeflightfullyleft @havethetimeeofyourlifee @wronglanemendes @chillingbythesea @softmendesss @mutuallynotmutual