#god i can't wait for him to get the shit beaten out of him again next episode

[magicaldreamfox1]

u guys do know that when i say way is my bestie and did nothing wrong that i do actually know that he did many many things wrong right

[caxycreations]

Okay, I've been nerd sniped, I'm sorry

NOTE: If you're going to reblog just to say "not reading that" or some other rude shit, DON'T. I've seen so many notifications of people just saying they couldn't be bothered to read it. I don't know if it's just that they don't see how incredibly rude and disheartening that is or if they know and don't care, but either way it really hurts to see, so please don't reblog if it's just to tell me you won't read it.

So let's go through the canonical likelihood they could each beat Goku. For the sake of keeping canon, we'll keep groups/pairs together if they would never reasonably be apart for something like this. Long post below the cut.

So first up are the ones I see that would, without a doubt, beat Goku.

Saiki K

Saiki is an omnipotent psychic/psionic with quite literally every single possible power out there. Now, this on its own isn't enough to beat Goku. Versatility doesn't mean everything, but Saiki is also powerful enough to rewrite the genetics and reality of everything within range, and his range is, so far, "Earth".

So this, on its own, would allow him to rewrite Goku's biology to make him Human. Bye bye zenkai boosts, bye bye Saiyan transformations. And Saiki, with his powers, has no trouble beating a Human of any caliber if he truly wanted to. And for those who ask "Why would he ever fight Goku?"

One simple reason: Goku would sense his immense power, and be excited for a fight. Goku is respectful enough to not force one if he's refused, but he's persistent enough to badger Saiki until he's given a chance. And Saiki, being Saiki, would simply take off one of his limiters, or both, and rewrite reality as such: "Being an alien isn't possible", thereby making it effective immediately that Goku must be lying/insane, and he is, in fact, Human. Easy win for Saiki.

And for those who would argue against this, bear in mind, the funniest way to beat Goku in this instance would be to simply make him weaker than Saiki, and Saiki is a gag character from a gag series, and it's already been shown in the world of Dragon Ball, and again in Dragon Ball Super, that Goku is incapable of defeating a gag character regardless of that characters canonical ability.

Saiki could win without gag character status, but even in the instance of Goku "beating" him, the gag would turn out to be that Saiki only pretended to get beaten, and is actually entirely unharmed because it was the easiest way to get Goku to leave him alone. Followed by a reveal that Goku will still show up now and then to ask for sparring matches, to drive the point home.

Popeye

Gag character. Would get beaten handily, crawl his way to spinach, and then be exactly as strong as he needs to be to take Goku down in however many hits is funniest.

Bugs Bunny

The gag character to end all gag characters. Someone on this hellsite once described Bugs as a "Trickster God who traps us in our own societal expectations" or some such. Like convincing Thanos to remove the Infinity Gauntlet by establishing a security checkpoint with a metal detector and shaming him into cooperating by telling him there's others waiting.

He could beat Goku in a billion ways, and each and every one of them would involve some shenanigan like Goku throwing a spirit bomb, Bugs showing up behind him holding it, saying "Ehhh, can you hold this for a second?" and as soon as Goku takes it and Bugs is off-screen, it would explode and Goku would be a pile of ashes with blinking eyes. Bugs would win because Bugs' gag is that...well, he simply can't be beaten.

The Warner Trio

Gag trio. Yakko, Wakko, and Dot would snark, sass, and sarcastic-joke their way into the scene, and they would spend the entire time poking fun at him, roasting his look, being unfazed by his attacks because "Nice laser show but we didn't bring our glowsticks." and just being too unbothered to care.

They would undoubtedly annoy Goku into admitting defeat simply to get away from them.

Road Runner

Gag character. Would force Goku to chase him, Goku would fire some blasts, chase him around, and inevitably be led right into the path of a blast he fired earlier to be disintegrated by it.

Pop Team Epic

I know nothing about this series except that it is a gag series. They are gag characters. That means Goku is inherently incapable of beating them.

ASDF Guy

Gag character. Could beat Goku with a simple "Hello, Mine-Turtle!" or "I like Trains."

Heart Diagram

Goku was literally killed by a heart virus in Future Trunks' timeline. This is one that has actually canonically already killed Goku.

Chowder

Gag character. Would likely be after S-Cells for some recipe and need to take Goku's as he's "The only Saiyan in this episode!" or some such, thereby ending the fight with a shot of Chowder wearing Goku's Gi for comedic effect while Dahl stirs raw Super Saiyan aura in a pot to hint that Chowder killed Goku for his S-Cells.

Force Ghost Trio

Gag versions of serious characters, and also ghosts. Goku is canonically unable to beat ghosts or gag characters, and these guys are both.

Those are the ones that would, without a doubt, beat Goku.

Now, let's go over the ones that could, potentially, be it likely or unlikely.

Kirby

Kirby is often considered a gag character, but he isn't. He has a very specific level of power, even if that level of power is "fuck you" levels of power. Kirby has beaten Gods, but so has Goku, even more often and with greater ease. However, Kirby has absorption and power-theft. Kirby could, potentially, absorb Goku (he isn't the brightest and Kirby has his unassuming appearance on his side) and take on his strongest form, including its powerup, and given Kirby in base form is likely more powerful than Goku in base form (Goku needed SSJ to scare Supreme Kai, Kirby beats Gods in base), it's possible Kirby would be more powerful than Goku with the same power up.

Kevin McCallister

Okay, hear me out.

Kevin is technically a gag character, BUT. He is not TRULY a gag character. He just happens to be a comedy character.

So he isn't guaranteed to win, but he could still possibly do so. How you ask?

Goku has been somewhat injured or lightly shaken by the following: planet-shattering attacks. Punches that rock the universe. Energy blasts so potent they would destroy entire galaxies.

Goku has been rendered inconsolable from the pain of the following: chest pain and a half-heartedly, boredly tossed pebble.

It is canon that when Goku and the other fighters in the series are expecting an attack or primed for battle, they are protected by their ki, like armor. It's how they're able to knock away attacks that would destroy planets, or put their "bare" hands on plasma energy that would normally burn the skin off you from a mile away let alone touching it.

This is why when Krillin threw the rock at Goku, it left him in agony and bruised him despite Goku being in Super Saiyan form at the time. This is why Chi-Chi is able to injure Goku regardless of how strong he gets.

So, how does this relate to Kevin being able to beat him? It's everything. It's critical information.

Kevin McCallister's entire M.O. is unexpected attacks. You open a door, you see a bucket fall, think it's over, turns out no, second bucket pulled by the first, second bucket is full of paint and open, you're blinded, you get your bearings, you take a step and feel cars, you smirk and step over them only to find marbles, you slip, you land on the cars which turn out to have been rigged to break easier to let loose a single thumbtack which is now firmly stuck in your back or butt. You bolt upright only to slam your head on a 2x4 that was rigged to hang down from a rope when you fell because your impact shook things enough to make it fall from a precarious perch above.

You get the idea. Every time you think it's safe to let your guard down, that's when the next wave hits. So you say "well he would stop letting his guard down" right? You fool. You know nothing of Goku. He would never put his guard UP. This is a human child, Goku can sense his pitiful power level. His strength? His speed? His ki? Weak. Pathetic. Nothing. A scouter wouldn't even register his power it's so low.

Goku never raises his guard to Chi-Chi, or to Bulma, or to Hercule. He does not raise his defense against normal, powerless, non-combative humans.

"BUT KEVIN IS COMBATIVE" No. He isn't. Goku can sense intent, power, and location. But Kevin isn't actively intending to hurt Goku. He's intending to protect himself and his home. He's not actively wanting to hurt Goku, he's just wanting Goku to leave. He doesn't have power to threaten Goku with, so Goku won't pick up on any threatening aura. And while Goku could simply instant transmission to Kevin and do what he will, we're not talking about how Goku could win, we're going over the fact Kevin could POSSIBLY win.

Enough injury and Goku is down for the count. Otherwise, Goku leaves to avoid further injury, and thereby admits defeat. Both cases, Kevin wins.

Shedinja

This one took me...quite a while. I had to do a lot of extra research for this. So, my immediate thought was Shedinja is a Ghost type, so ghost rules, right? Nah. Bug and Ghost type, and they are the physical shell left behind that has been reanimated. So they very much are physical beings, and given their ability to faint in the games and show they are capable of being physically damaged.

But There's a real case to be made for Shedinja beating Goku.

It can learn Ghost type moves, which operate on ghost-logic, and therefore are a canon weakness Goku is known to have. So things like Shadow Ball, Hex, Curse, and the like would all effect Goku regardless of Ki or form.

It also has access to Wonder Guard, which renders it "immune to all damage types that are not Super-Effective". For those unaware, we can actually attribute Typings to Goku's moves based on attributes and traits they share with Pokemon moves. His melee is, by nature, Fighting type, which Shedinja is immune to. In fact, Shedinja is immune to ALL attack types except Flying, Rock, Ghost, Dark, and Fire type moves, which are all Super Effective.

Goku's most common methods would actually fall under Fighting and Normal type attacks. "But his Ki blasts-" would be Normal type moves. You want proof?

Focus Energy is Normal Type. Quick Attack is Normal Type. Self Destruct is Normal Type. Techno Blast is Normal Type. Tera Blast is Normal Type. These are all energy based moves similar to ki blasts. Know what other energy based move is Normal Type? Hyperbeam. Which is almost identical to the Kamehameha and every other beam attack in DBZ.

Those few attacks Goku has that aren't going to be Normal Type will be Fighting Type.

Shedinja is Immune to all Normal and Fighting Type moves. Goku literally can not damage Shedinja, but Shedinja can damage Goku through Ghost Type moves. Shedinja can beat Goku. But why is it not "absolutely will" beat him? Because Goku can also transform his Ki and if he finds out Shedinja is vulnerable to fire, he can and will use that to his advantage.

That's who could potentially beat Goku. Here's who absolutely could not.

Saitama

I forgot to go over Saitama originally so here's the edit that features that analysis. Bear in mind I am saying this as someone who has seen Seasons 1 and 2 of the show AND is aware of some of the events of the manga.

A lot of reblogs over Saitama claim he is a gag character. But there is a case to be made that he is NOT. What is that case you ask? Well, for the sake of fairness, here is how I am handling gag characters: if their gag is in effect in 100% of all cases (such as looney tunes like Bugs or Road Runner) or if the gag is triggered in 100% of all cases (such as Saiki K or Chowder) then they are a True Gag Character and will insta-win.

However, if their gag has failed (such as Wario, or, yes, even Saitama) in ANY case, then it CAN fail again, and the fairest fight is one against two non-gag characters, so we can safely apply non-gag Saitama here since his gag has failed and Goku meets the conditions to cause it to fail again, which I'll explain.

So, first off, how does his gag fail? Well, his gag is that he kills everything instantly in one hit, unless he actively chooses not to. So we can safely say his gag fails if any of the following are true: he fails to instantly kill an enemy with a single hit while intending to do so, OR if he fails to kill an enemy with a serious hit intended to kill.

He meets both of these conditions. Boros survived for several seconds AFTER Saitama hit him with a Serious Punch. It was a single hit that intended to kill...But he didn't kill Boros INSTANTLY with it. Another example of his gag failing, if that doesn't satisfy, is Garou. Garou, in the manga, has survived MULTIPLE Serious Punches with intent to kill. This, on its own, is proof Saitama's Serious Punch does in fact have a limit to its output. It also proves his gag can, and does, fail against certain opponents.

So the next thing we need to look at is similarities between Garou and Boros to identify what they share that could possibly allow them to get around Saitama's gag, or to nullify it entirely. First similarity is that both are determined to have a good, satisfying fight. Boros crossed the stars seeking one, and Garou sought to become a true Monster powerful enough to force every hero, every do-gooder, to unite under one banner just to take him down. They both seek a battle to end all battles, even if Garou's intention is to end it in his favor, not simply enjoy the fight.

The second similarity is that they have incredibly unique circumstances, even by OPM standards. Garou is a man who has always felt love for the bad guy, he looks to the monsters as inspirations, as the misunderstood and the victimized by those claiming to be heroes. He's trained by an S-Class hero, and has developed into a being of unimaginable power in the pursuit of his dream. Very much a true foil to Saitama, who looked to heroes in comics as inspirations, as the righteous and unshakably moral, self-taught through and through and developed into a being of unimaginable power in the pursuit of HIS dream. Garou is, in this way, a reflection of Saitama, the Tails to Saitama's Heads, the dark to his light.

Boros on the other hand is an alien, forced to become strong by his homeworld's unforgiving conditions, developing a level of power necessary to survive and then some, and on realizing he was far too powerful for his own good, he sought purpose, meaning, and when he heard he may find a worthy opponent, he did everything he could to achieve that future, to realize his dream of facing a foe that would give him a true challenge.

So what are the similarities we can identify? Notably unique circumstances even by OPM standards, sharing strong similarities to Saitama's desires or dreams (Garou dreaming of becoming the greatest Monster vs Saitama dreaming of becoming the greatest Hero, Boros feeling lost in life and seeking a worthy foe vs Saitama feeling bored with living and wishing for the sensation of a real fight again), and the desire for a serious and ultimate battle.

Goku fits ALL of these conditions. He is an alien sent to Earth for his protection, grew up in hostile conditions (surviving on his own for most of his childhood, constant battles with Nation-level threats throughout his teen years, constant battles with world or universe-level threats throughout his adulthood), trained extensively until he was the best of the best, has the ultimate dream of a truly satisfying battle (a dream he routinely seeks out by facing down powerful foes), and being entirely bored with mundane life because there's absolutely no challenge to it, not to mention the fact he has the ultimate dream of becoming the strongest, something he shares with Saitama's pre-OPM self.

Since Goku fits ALL the conditions needed to make this battle exempt from the gag, we will NOT be considering it, as Saitama is not a True Gag Character, and Goku fitting conditions for nullifying it means we can assume actual power limits and such.

So let's look at feats of power. Saitama's Serious Side Hop technique allowed him to create AT LEAST 60 after-images (based on the manga panel) which, when compared with Sonic's 4, means Saitama was moving 15x faster than Sonic in that moment (bare minimum). An afterimage like that is created by moving at least 572mph, stopping in each position for at least 1/255th of a second (any less and the human eye can't pick up on it), so by moving from position A to B for 1/255th of a second and back to A, going 572mph between the two, you create the afterimage.

Sonic creates 4 simultaneously, meaning he needs to move to 3 positions and then back to starting position, or go from A to B, B to A, A to C, C to A, A to D, and repeat.

This means Sonic, to move into each of these positions in less than 1/255th of a second, would need to be moving ~4x faster than the speed for one afterimage. That puts him as moving at 2,228mph while creating those 4 afterimages. Given he is capable of Mach 5 speeds (he's said to be hypersonic) this feat is easy for him, as Mach 5 is 3,805mph. I assume, just as it's easier to move at top speed in a straight line than at sharp turns for a normal person, it's likely more difficult to create such consistent afterimages and so the difficulty that makes it his best attack is from the technique and reaction involved, not the speed itself.

In any case, if Saitama made at least 60 afterimages, putting him at 15x faster than Sonic's speed while creating 4, that puts Saitama's speed at 33,420mph just to account for the 60 we can count in the manga panel. This means 33,420 is the MINIMUM speed we can assume for Saitama's max ability. To be generous, given he wasn't winded after doing that and given he was able to react incredibly easily to the near-instant directional changes, I'll be kind and put his maximum speed at 10,000x this number.

That puts Saitama's speed at 334,200,000mph, or 49.8% the speed of light. We'll be kind again and say 50% the speed of light, round up that last .2%

So we have a speed value for Saitama. Now what about Goku? Well, let's look at Goku on Namek, for a moment. Base form Goku, at the start of his fight against Freeza. Goku, BEFORE his super saiyan transformation, was moving at 3.26 (we'll round down to 3) times the speed of light. How do I get this number? Buckle up, it's involved.

The Namekian ship Bulma, Krillin, and Gohan took to get to Namek made it from Earth to Jupiter in "seconds". That means less than a minute, so we'll say it took them 1 minute just to lowball it and to have a solid starting number. Jupiter, when the two planets are at their closest to each other (assuming shorter distance for slower speed, another lowball), is 365,000,000 miles from Earth. This means the Namekian ship moved 365mil miles in 1 minute.

That puts the Namekian ship at a speed of 21.9 billion miles per hour. They made it to Namek in 30 days of travel. The ship Goku took to Namek made the trip in 5 days. That means Goku's ship is 6 times faster than the Namekian ship. Don't worry, the ship speed DOES matter in this, I promise you.

So Goku's ship moves at 131,400,000,000mph. That's 131 billion, 400 million miles per hour. Or 195x the speed of light.

Why does the ship speed matter so much, you might ask?

Because King Kai could visually keep up with the ship. He was able to track Goku's progress with ease, and could see his ships movements without problems. This means King Kai's eyes and brain are capable of perceiving and processing things that move at 195x the speed of light.

Why does that matter? Because Super Saiyan is canonically a 50x multiplier to ALL base ability. Strength, speed, durability, etc.

And Goku, in Super Saiyan, was moving so fast King Kai stated he could no longer keep up. King Kai, capable of seeing and processing the input of vision on a ship moving 195x the speed of light, could not see or process the input of vision on Super Saiyan Goku.

We'll lowball it, and say Goku only needed to move 1 mph faster than 195x the speed of light for King Kai to lose track of him. So whatever value we get, we'll add 1mph to for Goku's base form speed.

So 195x the speed of light +1mph. 195/50=3.9x the speed of light. That's 2,616,900,000mph, adding in the extra mph makes it 2,616,900,001mph. So Base Form Goku moves at ~3.9x the speed of light, ON NAMEK. Super Saiyan is a 50x multiplier, putting him at ~195x the speed of light. Super Saiyan 2 is a 100x multiplier to Base, so 390x the speed of light. Super Saiyan 3 is a 400x multiplier, so 1,560x the speed of light. Super Saiyan God is a 20,000 multiplier so 78,000x the speed of light. Super Saiyan Blue is a 1 million times multiplier, so 3,900,000x the speed of light. And lastly, Mastered Ultra Instinct is a 300 billion times multipler, so 1.17 trillion times the speed of light.

Why did I bother going through all those multipliers? He wins in Base as of Namek saga lol. Anyway, continuing on to strength now that we've established Base Goku on Namek could move 3.9x faster than the Speed of Light while Saitama could only move at 0.5x the Speed of Light.

Strength. Okay. This one is harder to gauge, but we CAN gauge it. We'll go in terms of level of damage, so human level (would be on-par or less than peak human ability), town level (small towns), city level (large cities), nation level (an entire nation, less than a continent), continent level (one or more nations that span an entire continent), world-surface level (the surface of an Earth-sized planet), Planetary (capable of destroying an entire Earth-sized planet), Solar (capable of destroying a solar system), Galactic (capable of destroying a galaxy), multi-galactic (capable of destroying many galaxies), Universal (capable of destroying an entire universe), Multiversal (capable of destroying multiple universes).

We'll start with Goku this time. Goku's punches are, as of the Battle of Gods arc, strong enough to match Beerus perfectly to nullify the shockwaves of Beerus' attacks. Mind you, the mere shockwave of Beerus' attacks are enough to rip and tear the fabric of the universe itself, as stated by Elder Kai. This puts Goku's punches as being powerful enough to tear the fabric of the universe in when he first obtained Super Saiyan God. Why does this matter for Base Goku? Because Base Goku retained his SSJG power, as stated by Beerus.

So Goku in Base, post-battle of gods, is physically capable of punches that can tear apart the universe from the aftershocks alone. This is important to note because Elder Kai could physically feel the shockwaves from the World of the Kais. This makes Goku Universe-level in strength. This means Goku, post-BoG, in Super Saiyan is 50x stronger than what's needed for Universal, while Goku, as of current manga canon (assuming he didn't actually get any stronger since BoG and is simply more powerful due to new transformations) is capable of a form (Mastered Ultra Instinct) that puts him 300 billion times stronger than minimum Universe level strength.

And Saitama? Where does he fit here? Well, I thought this gap would be bigger honestly? But after researching, it seems the gap isn't all that big. Saitama has, canonically, with a Serious Punch, snuffed out an entire cylinder of stars and presumably every planet, moon, asteroid, and more, at a distance surpassing that of our solar system, and with a diameter surpassing it as well. This puts Saitama's power (if we lowball it MASSIVELY) at Solar. He could, in a single punch, destroy our entire solar system, and he wouldn't even need to be serious to do it. It's worth noting this is coupled with Garou's own Saitama-level Serious Punch, so we can assume this level of power is double Saitama's own.

So how do we determine the specifics? Well, he cleared an area large enough to cover, presumably, half the area of stars destroyed in the path of his and Garou's serious punches.

Through future revelations in the series we learn they didn't "destroy" every star in that path, but likely only several were destroyed, and possibly a galaxy, while the remainder of the void left behind was from the shockwave forcing every other star within range into a new position, creating a void in space that all stars had been moved from, save the few that were in the DIRECT path of their attack.

Another theory is that the Serious Punch^2 simply distorted the photons in the area, resulting in the appearance of a massive void, and this theory is based on the angles in the manga and comments made by other characters that paint Earth as the only thing in real danger from the power of the attack.

To be fair to Saitama, where we would lowball Goku, we'll highball Saitama, and say the Serious Punch^2 outright destroyed every star in the area. That level of power would, naturally, have shockwaves that push nearby stars out of the way AND distort photons in the area, resulting in a massive cone of destruction surrounded by a large cylinder of force.

This puts Saitama at, quite easily, multi-galactic level of strength.

But why did I say this gap isn't as big as I expected? One simple thing. Saitama has canonically punched his way into a different dimension in the manga. That means he's capable of brute-forcing his way out of the bounds of his universe. He is capable of physically destroying the fabric of the universe.

Meaning Saitama's strength is, bare minimum, Universal in close proximity. That puts him, strength-wise, on par with Goku, who through training has become stronger than Super Buu (who was so strong he could shout his way out of the Hyperbolic Time Chamber, a dimension separate from our own), meaning Goku is also Universal in close proximity.

So...while I expected Saitama to be ~Planetary, MAYBE he'd be Solar at most...Research indicates he's actually Universal, or near-Universal, meaning the fight may not be too far a gap after all.

Goku may have Saitama beat on speed (given recent manga events in OPM, I'm willing to allow that Saitama is faster than light speed, but Goku having as many forms as he does (Kaioken, which he can combine with other forms and can hit a multiplier of x100 on top of whatever power he currently has, SSJ1-3, SSJG, SSJB, MUI) means even if Saitama matches Base Goku, he's likely not going to stand up to his stronger forms).

But on strength, I'd wager they're close enough for this fight to be one hell of a battle.

What about Durability? After all, all the strength in the world won't save you if you're as easy to kill as a simple bullet to the head, right?

Goku has withstood universe-ripping punches (from Beerus, the God of Destruction, and based on comments in the manga he's one of the stronger Gods of Destruction too), dimension-tearing attacks (from Goku Black, pre-Fusion), energy blasts that even the Gods of Destruction were nervous of (from Jiren during the Tournament of Power), and he survived multiple blasts from Granolah post-wish buff, who was renowned for his sniping power pre-wish, and post-wish was as powerful as he would be if he had spent every single second of the next 147 years training non-stop with the absolute healthiest amount of rest and physical care, making him, presently, as powerful as he would be at the END of that time, with the price paid being that he only had 3 years to live as he lost 1 year of his lifespan for each power boost.

It was also clear that Granolah was the strongest in the universe...at the time of his wish. Goku and Vegeta, who were already on their way, were not as powerful as Granolah even with their transformations. They became stronger during their fight with him, and stronger still during their fight with Gas (who was more powerful than Granolah after Gas transformed and mastered his transformation).

So we can safely assume Goku is Multiversal in Durability, as he himself was able to output Universal damage with each punch, and he was able to survive hits from beings drastically stronger than himself.

What about Saitama? Well, Saitama was able to survive the force of the Serious Punch^2 and he was able to casually bust his way into another dimension. So his Serious Punch, if he wanted it to, could easily destroy the barrier between universes or dimensions.

And given he survived the force of two of them impacting each other, I would put Saitama at, bare minimum, Universe-level durability. But given he was able to survive prolonged battle against Garou, who is a Power Mimic and has shown Saitama-level strength, we can safely assume Saitama is BEYOND Universal-level durability, and so we can put him right there with Goku at Multiversal durability.

So what do we have so far?

Goku has speed equal to, in Base Form, 3.9x lightspeed, and 1.17 trillion times lightspeed in his most powerful form.

Goku has Universal level strength in Base Form, 300 billion times that in his most powerful form.

Goku has Universal durability in Base Form, Multiversal durability in his most powerful form (300 billion times his Base Form's durability).

Saitama has speed equal to, at minimum, 0.5x lightspeed, and at maximum, if we highball it, 2x lightspeed.

Saitama has Universal strength.

Saitama has Universal durability at minimum, and Multiversal durability at maximum.

At this point, I'm convinced the speed difference between Base Goku and Saitama means nothing. Saitama's durability means even with Base Goku moving at his top speed, his impacts won't be enough to beat Saitama. At top speed Base Goku may be putting out Universal damage, but he's not putting out enough to actually BEAT Saitama. Only injure.

Making me rethink my "Goku wins in Base lol" claim earlier, how dare you!

Anyway, at this point, Goku would HAVE to transform to beat Saitama. His ability to sense power and Saitama's evident inability to suppress it (as evidenced by multiple characters sensing his ungodly power even while Saitama is completely relaxed) would mean Goku would know, right away, he needs to transform for the fight.

Saitama's durability means Goku would likely need Super Saiyan 2 or 3, or, more likely, SSJG. Super Saiyan God's multiplier to Granolah-arc Goku, after all of his training with Whis and Vegeta, would most likely be enough to beat Saitama. And given SSJG is enough to "most likely" beat him, then Super Saiyan Blue (aka Super Saiyan God Super Saiyan, the form above SSJG) is surely enough, and Mastered Ultra Instinct (a form drastically more powerful than SSJB) is absolutely more than enough to beat Saitama.

And given Goku's mastery over the Kaioken technique, and he's been shown to enter Kaioken x 20 while in Super Saiyan Blue for fair amounts of time as of the Moro saga, meaning even if SSB wasn't enough, given MUI is overkill, it's possible SSB x10 or x20 would be.

The point being, Goku wins this fight due to a combination of technique, experience, and power from his transformations. Given Goku is faster than Saitama and would sense his power as Saitama doesn't know how to suppress it, nothing Saitama could do would be a surprise attack to Goku, meaning Goku would have ample opportunity to react to everything Saitama does.

And given the relatively similar strengths the two bear, Goku would recognize he needs to transform to beat Saitama's output.

And given Saitama's greater durability than Base Goku, and greater durability than even what Saitama himself can put out, Goku would see he needs to transform to have enough of his own output to beat Saitama's durability.

Conclusion: Goku would absolutely win this fight, BUT...I'll give Saitama credit where it's due.

Out of everyone on the entire list, Saitama is the fairest matchup here, and the one most likely to give Goku a truly satisfying fight, given it would be a battle on par with those Goku has enjoyed most.

Kingdom Hearts Mickey

K.H. Mickey has a clear power limit and ability set. He is not strong enough, fast enough, smart enough, or durable enough to beat Goku, but he is just enough of a threat for Goku to actually put his guard up, which is why K.H. Mickey would lose; Goku would see it as a fight, unlike with Kevin.

Crash Bandicoot

Crash isn't nearly powerful enough to be a threat to Goku, but he IS insane enough to push Goku to hostility. Goku would feel the need to put effort into getting him away and that is his downfall.

Hatsune Miku

Goku would assume she is a Red Ribbon android and fight her on assumption she's trying to kill him or bring harm to Earth. He would hit her full force expecting her to tank it and she would keel over dead instantly.

Wario

Everything he could possibly do, the Red Ribbon Army has tried and done better, and they've never beaten Goku. Neither would he.

Sans

Lost to a child with slightly above average human determination, and standard human strength and speed. He does not beat Goku.

And just because you specifically told me not to @ you, have this :)

@that-one-enby-onyx

[aayakashii]

Some people asked me to make a pt.2 of collared with pegging and well. This is not it (⌐■-■) I just like to bully Leo, sorry... have the twink being tortured yet again 🫳 not really femdom content this time around like the 1st part BUT he still suffers (∗´艸`∗)

WARNINGS: this is a part 2 (?) to collared, so read that one first! This is smut and has explicit language, NSFT !!!!!!! Do not engage if it makes you uncomfortable <3

Leo grunted, fist wrapped tightly around his length as he leaned against the wall of his spacious bathroom. His tip was a furious red as he jerked his cock, desperately seeking a release that seemed far away, gritting his teeth at the frustration that washed over his body.

His hand stopped, and he gasped for air, chest heaving up and down and hair sticking to his forehead after exerting himself. He slammed his fist against the wall, furious.

He had been like that for weeks. Unable to relieve himself of his pent-up stress and unable to ignore the desire that kept on pooling in his core.

He had tried everything. Watching porn, using toys, hooking up with some students – but nothing worked. He would get so close, so fucking close but then his orgasm would ruin itself no matter what. It was like something was broken and he didn't know why.

Actually, Leo knew what might have caused it. But he also tried to avoid thinking about it at all costs.

He dry swallowed, throat bobbing up and down, as he waited for his heart rate to slow down and his breathing to even out.

Meanwhile, his mind raced, trying to find anything to think about, only to run away as fast as he could from those memories. He'd conjure up thoughts of old parties, old hookups, bad hangovers and mundane shit that didn’t matter at all, only to escape from unconsciously recollecting that day.

But the ghost of the sensations remained on his skin, on his nerves, on his cock.

His breathing got heavier again and he pushed himself away from the wall of his bathroom.

That was all futile. He needed some fresh air. With some luck, he could find some stupid student to bully and maybe get into a fight and just have someone rip the horny out of him through punches and kicks.

Yeah. That's what he needed.

Instead of following the flawless plan he had hurriedly concocted before leaving, however, Leo found himself in front of the old, beaten down Cathedral. He heard rumors of how it had been another dorm before, but now it only housed the stupid NPC.

Leo cursed under his breath.

Why the fuck did he find himself there? He had no business with you. He didn't want ANYTHING from you.

And yet, his gaze locked onto the only window that was open on that large building, with faint candlelight flickering inside.

You were right there. He knew that. And he fucking hated the way his mouth dried up and his heart picked up speed yet again.

God fucking damn it.

Wasn't your "revenge" something that should have happened only once? (Even though for the first days he kept waiting and waiting, sitting on pins and needles, for you to come back and show him how else you could fuck him).

If it was just that one forsaken moment, then why should he keep on being so fucking frustrated all the time, rubbing his thighs together in a futile attempt to ease the annoyance, all because he can't cum like before?

He groaned as he felt his cock stiffen once again as the memories of your hands roaming all over his body became, finally, inescapable.

Leo stepped out of the paveway and into the trees and bushes, still keeping his eyes locked at your window.

It wouldn't hurt to try and relieve himself right then and there, right? Just that one time. Just to get the edge off and then afterwards he would do anything in his power to erase the memories of that stupid fucking NPC making him feel pleasure that he had never felt before. Even if he had to create mesmer matches that worked only on him, just for that.

He palmed himself through his pants, breath faltering and labored as he felt how painfully hard he had become. All to the thought of you.

He felt pathetic.

And still, he pulled his pants down and leaned against a tree, trying to control the small moans that began spilling from his mouth.

Against his better judgment, however, Leo gave in to his curiosity.

"Haxs." He whispered through his sighs, and his half-lidded eyes immediately widened as he heard the telling sound of your labored breathing and the wet noises of your fingers thrusting deep inside yourself.

Leo's eyes rolled back as a strangled moan caught on his throat as soon as he realized you were masturbating just like he was. His hips jerked forward, hand wrapped tightly around his cock as he bit his other fist in order to muffle the sounds of his mewls.

He fucked his fist at the same pace of your moans, desperately trying to picture you with your legs spread open wide, shoving your fingers deep inside your pussy in order to teach him how he should fuck you – just like you taught him things he wouldn't ever forget the last time.

Leo was too caught up in his fantasies and the sensation of finally – Finally! – being able to quench that awful thirst, that the next sound you made caught him completely off guard.

As you reached your own peak, your mewls and whines grew louder and, in your orgasm, you moaned another ghoul's name.

His hips stuttered and he thrusted one last time, his release gushing out of him in thick ropes before he could even notice. A loud whine ripping out of his throat without restraint.

He panted, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes due to the wave of pleasure he so desperately seeked finally washing over him.

But his eyes were sharp, glaring towards the only lit window in the Cathedral.

You fucking moaned someone else's name.

Leo inhaled deeply, trying to keep the confusing swirl of emotions at bay, blinking fast in order to get clear headed quickly.

What the actual fuck.

So you liked someone else? Apparently yes, since you fucking came with someone else's name on your lips.

What was all that happened between you two then? Did you REALLY just want to fuck with him as a punishment?

... Nah, he didn't believe that. Not when he could so clearly remember the way your eyes ran all over his body and how you looked like you would devour him at any given moment.

He would know.

Every single time he closed his eyes, he could still picture you hovering over him, touching him, praising him.

So why the fuck were you touching yourself to the thought of some other fucking ghoul?

Why not him? Why weren't you thinking of him while you masturbated, when he could only cum to the thought and sounds of you after you completely ruined him?

Were you really not as affected by all that as he was? Was he the only stupid moron that really couldn't even jack off properly if he didn't have you around somehow?

Leo bit his lip, brows furrowing as he felt his chest tightening. He haphazardly wiped his hands on the grass below him, and buttoned his pants.

Was this the actual punishment you were talking about?

Leo felt his throat close painfully and the back of his eyes sting as furious tears threatened to pool on his eyes.

He stumbled on his way back towards Vagastrom, confused despite the clarity brought by his orgasm, and, much to his dismay, feeling a type of hurt deep inside his chest that he had always thought was pathetic.

Leo felt discarded, like trash, for the first time in his life.

Kudos to you for flipping the script on him so perfectly without even trying.

But not to worry. When it came to cruelty and breaking hearts, he would always get first place.

He just had to think.

[liaarxse]

Get off damn it!

Headcanons

TR characters cuddling with you after a fight

Characters: The Kawata twins (separately), Matsuno Chifuyu, Manjiro Sano

Warnings: None, crack

A/n: This freeky AI bot is giving me way too many ideas.

Souya Kawata

Let's get straight to the point, you know it, he knows it, y'all cuddling after a fight ASAP

Not even a fight, even if it was just a meeting

Y'all cuddling ok? Ok.

He's usually pretty riled up after a fight and has more energy

Tells you all the drama bitch

Literally get out your notepad now

Maybe he let a tear fall here and there, but that's about it

But oh

Ohhh

OHOHOHOHOOOO

God forbid he straight up cries like in that one manga chapter (I can't remember which one it was)

Pray

Even if you don't pray, pray

Even if you are a Satanist, pray

Even if you're a God or a Devil, pray

You and Nahoya both know the shit that's about to go lose

Just stay put and wait for him

He comes to your place as if in a matter of seconds, changing and throwing himself onto you, breaking down

Well, shit.

He's cursing them out, saying how he beat their ass and would do it again, while crying

How?

Idk

Don't ask me they ain't real

But show this boy some love. He deserves it. Caress his scalp, play with his hair, place tender kisses on his face, and just hold him for a bit longer

He'll return the favor as soon as possible.

Nahoya Kawata

Ah, fuck, not again

He gets into a fight every single day

And always comes to your place so you can fix him up

"Hey baby."

"Nahoya your face is literally deformed what the fuck."

Just fix him

Not because he deserves it but because he's annoying as shit and won't leave you alone

Once, he broke your window and crawed into your room at 4 in the morning to tend his wounds

He paid for your therapy sessions dw

Since he's 24/7 injured, he always smells like blood

Like, ew?

Once he came by after a nasty fight all injured and blooded up

You gagged

LMAOOOOO

"Fuck you."

"Sure."

🤡

He always throws his bloody ass on your new sheets, and you go BERSERK

You once hit him in the head cough Deja Vu cough with a broom because he ruined your sheets

He smirked at that comment

You kicked him outside

He crawled back in and trapped you in a hug

That lasted all night

"Nahoya let go I need to pee."

"Bitch hold it in."

He loves you, i swear

Matsuno Chifuyu

Blooded your sheets on accident

Don't be mad please

Here, pet Peke J

You mad?

You don't get to pet Peke J

Loser\j

In all honesty, he's reckless.

Every. Fucking. Time. He comes by the next day you're restocking on aid supplies.

Stg he better start paying up

Once called you in the middle of a fight with his nose bleeding and a few bruises on his face

"I'm coming over later, babe!"

"MATSUNO HOLY SHI—"

He hung up

Your ass went CRAZY before he came knocking on your door

He was injured

A lot

Really

Is he half dead?

Will he make it through the night?

Will—

Hey he brought Peke J!

Everything Is fine

He cleaned up before cuddling with you but still managed to dirty your sheets

"You're lucky my son is here."

"That's my son, pussy."

Y'all love Peke J more than your relationship/j

He changed your sheets and went back to cuddling you

If needed he'll buy new ones

Baby boy, baby 🫶

Manjiro Sano

Bfr, you woke up, and your boyfriend was sleeping right next to you, beaten up

You screamed

He screamed

You threw a book at him

He got a concussion

Great, more blood

"Damn it Manjiro I just bought these sheets!"

"Are you insane?"

Maybe lol

After leaving the room you still felt the smell of blood.

Looking down you saw your favourite pj smeared with droplets of blood from none other than MIKEY

He had cuddled you while you slept personally in blooded clothes

You chased him with a pan

Seven AM the usual morning line-up

Start on the chores and sweep till the floor's all cleEeeeeEN

Imagine Mikey as Rapunzel though

Them dark impulses gon kick in hard up inside that tower

Give him love too, please, #helptakemichiwiththesemessedupbastards

[thesmpisonfire]

RATTLING IN MY CAGE

Okay. Okay. Okay. So. I finished watching the Prison Escape Vod and BY GOD i have thoughts about cubito Pac e Mike

Let's dive in

(@spreens dragging ur ass to read this bc u asked for it)

GOD. FIRST THING. This stream just made it SO CLEAR how their love language is physical touch. How being close and touching each other or even just the reassurance they could leave their cells to be with each other is important to them. Before they were let out, Pac was panicking, emotions being all over the place and pouring out while Mike did the exact opposite, closed himself shut and waited (The exact opposite to what they are. Mike is the emotional bomb, while Pac has better handle of his intensity)

First thing they did when set free was to run and get close, walking pressed together side by side. The first time they sat with Walter Bob, they also sat side by side

And not only to each other they do this, but they extended it to Walter Bob as well. Mike's constant hugs and Pac walking rlly close or choosing to sit by Walter Bob's side even when it was impractical to do so. They know how isolating and scary it is to be in prison, to feel like you're alone and small, so they both made sure to always let Walter Bob know they were there for him

ALSO. Now to Pac and Mike characterization

Pac had his time to shine as the "Innocent" one once again. He loves to pretend he doesn't know what is going on or act way more scared as he truly is. He likes to pretend he's weak and can only lean on his words to get out of trouble. The thing with Pac is that he IS a good fighter, he was one of the front lines of the timer dungeon, he was ready to beat the shit out of the fake chayanne and tallulah in case they had ran after Richas, even if he was unsure if he should. He's quick on his feet and he's good analysing the situation he's in and how he can win. Which also means he knows damn well when he doesn't has the advantage, and in these cases he'd much rather not fight and instead talk his way out, even if it means being beaten up for a while (or lose a leg). His stealth and agility, plus being people smart, helped him to grab the keys from the backpack. The fact he wears his heart on his sleeve and a smile is quick to appear on his face also helped him get an easier time with the guards, getting better food and even being let alone to roam for a bit, which is when Fit found them. When Mike hit the guard, Pac first thing was to analyse the situation and then run to hit the guard as well, as he noticed they had a good chance of winning

Mike, as always, took the place as the "brains" of the whole thing. The thing with Mike is that he likes to pose as the threatening one, the most dangerous and angry. He yelled at guards and swore and talked shit about everything, which is what gave Pac space to be the 'good' inmate, when more often than not Mike is way more bark than he is bite. He isn't sure of his pvp abilities as of normal and much rather lean on his machines or on Pac to do the job. The prison escapade also put a light on how heartfelt Mike is. He hugged Walter Bob every chance he had, he was always outspoken about bringing Walter Bob with them, he yelled to the guards to defend his friends. Mike is the most serious liar and the one to come up with plans as he feels better planning everything ahead of him. Mike is explosive, which is why he was the one attacking the guard instead of Pac, the pvper. He is a man with anger and strength for a single, demolishing attack. He wanted to defend his best friend and Walter Bob, so he fucking jumped into action. In any other kind of fight, Mike wouldn't do that. He couldn't fight against the bull as he was caught out of surprise, he couldn't hold himself in the dungeon as he can't plan middle chaos, he was completely out of his element against the codes due to shock. But, jumping and immediately started attacking on impulse, a surprise attack? That Mike can do, and he did

Their relationship with Walter Bob is special since they already had a bond with him. He's their friend and they were ready to do anything to take Walter Bob with them. He was the missing piece to make all of this work, the outsider out of their bubble that helped them see things they wouldn't as they are linked together and often on the same line of thought. Pac e Mike wanted him to be happy and have a chance to be himself, they wanted him as part of the family

Losing Walter Bob was a hard hit to them. It made the whole escape turn into failure as he was already an extension of the duo, in a way. And Mike has the tendency of blame himself, always. He still blames himself for Richas' death and he blames himself for Walter Bob being taken, to the point of ignoring Pac and refusing his touch as he doesn't deemed himself of worthy of care. And Pac once again is by his side to pick up the pieces that have been broken, as he always does

This whole stream was. Such a MEAL for characterization. I didn't even go deep about the guards or about this new part of the Federation. Im reeling in cubito's feelings and I'M LOVING IT

[oliversrarebooks]

Augusnippets Day 11: Breaking the Conditioning

Masterlist

Glenn opened his eyes slowly. He could hear Meadows calling his name from a million miles away, and his head felt foggy. The last thing he remembered was the mission going sideways -- but if Meadows was here, she must've pulled him out. He was probably back in the medbay at base, waking up after he'd let his ass get beaten into the ground by Dr. Spiral's minions. It would be far from the first time.

Meadows' voice sounded urgent, though, and he realized that he wasn't in a stiff infirmary bed. No, there was cold concrete underneath him. He sat up.

"Glenn? Can you hear me?"

"Where are we?" he said. He was in what seemed to be a cross between a clinic and a mad scientist's lair, filled with both ordinary medical equipment and bizarre, intimidating machines.

"We're in Dr. Spiral's headquarters. Do you remember what happened?"

"No… I remember getting ambushed and then…"

"Are you back, then?" She sounded desperate. "Oh thank god. I can't believe I got you to snap out of it."

"Back? What do you mean?" He looked up, and saw where Meadows' voice was coming from. She was strapped down to some kind of operating table. "Oh god, they captured you?" He sprang to his feet, looking at the thick metal cuffs holding her down. There was no obvious mechanism for removing them. "Do you know how to get these off?"

"Dr. Spiral has the controls, I think. You don't remember anything, then?"

"What happened?"

"Dr. Spiral captured you, Glenn."

"Captured me?" He racked his brain for something, anything. He had the vaguest memory of his archnemesis' face, gloating, and everything else was like a dream that had slipped away the moment he woke up. "How long was I out?"

"Two months."

"Two… no. No way. That can't be possible. I don't remember any of it," he said. "Was I just unconscious the whole time? Like in a coma, or stasis?"

Meadows looked away uneasily, filling Glenn with dread.

"Meadows, what happened to me? What did I do?"

"He made you into one of his minions," she said.

"No. I wasn't…"

"You were. We don't know what he did to you, but you were completely brainwashed. He gloated over it, made you his right hand man. And you were like a completely different person."

"That can't be right," said Glenn, swallowing hard. He looked down, and realized that he was wearing one of Dr. Spiral's uniforms, a purple jumpsuit with a multi-colored spiral embroidered on the pocket. "Shit."

"It's okay, it wasn't your fault," she said, as reassuring as she could be while strapped to a table.

"I didn't do anything that bad, right?" he said in desperation. "All of his minions are pretty mindless, so…"

"Not you," she said firmly. "I don't know what he did different with you, but you were… ruthless. Terrifying."

"But --"

"You caught Townsend when she was out on a mission. We still don't know what happened to her."

"Townsend -- I don't remember that --" he said. "Did I catch you too?"

Meadows laughed bitterly. "I really should have seen it coming. If there's anyone who knows how to beat me, it's you."

Glenn didn't even want to process it, didn't want to think about the things he'd done to his teammates while he wasn't in control -- not to mention what he might've done to civilians. His powers were dangerous even as a hero. There was no telling what Dr. Spiral made him do once he had his filthy hands on him. "How did you reverse it?"

"I don't know. You were about to inject me with some drug, I was trying to remind you of who you were to get you to stop… and somehow, it worked."

"A drug?" His gaze traveled to a syringe lying on the floor, halfway rolled under the table where Meadows was restrained.

"The rest of the explanation can wait, right?" she said. "You're free for now, but if Dr. Spiral returns, he might put you under again."

"I won't let that happen," said Glenn with far more conviction than he truly felt. After all, if he didn't even remember how he'd been brainwashed, he wasn't sure he could prevent it. "I'm going to get us both out of here, and then we can find Townsend."

He'd started to examine the table for any sort of control or release when a door slid open behind him. As he froze in place, staring at Meadows' expression of horror, confident footsteps approached him.

"Was there a problem with preparing the subject, Two?" said the all-too-familiar voice of Dr. Spiral. "She looks a great deal more awake than I'd prefer."

He had to play along. "My apologies… sir. Um, master. I dropped the syringe on the ground and was just about to recover it."

"Hm." Dr. Spiral grasped him by the shoulders, whipping him around, and his vision was filled with his mesmeric eyes. There were entire galaxies in them, deep and sparkling, so easy to get lost in --

Glenn broke his gaze, not wanting to fall in his trap.

"Oh, I see," Dr. Spiral said. "You've broken out of my conditioning, haven't you?"

"No, master."

"Nice try, minion, but I made you call me doctor, not master." Dr. Spiral grabbed his face, forcing Glenn to look straight into those dangerous eyes. "I expected this might happen. You always were far too sentimental about your old boss. But it's nothing a little quality time can't fix."

Glenn squirmed, trying to escape the pull of those eyes. Some part of him remembered, some part of him wanted nothing more than to relax and lose himself.

"Glenn! Don't listen to him!" Meadows yelled.

His vision became unfocused, his jaw hanging slack, as the stars in his nemesis' eyes swirled around him in perfect harmony, making him want nothing more than to submit --

"Glenn!"

With all the willpower he could muster, he shoved Dr. Spiral away from him and into a cart of medical equipment, diving for the syringe. He rolled over just in time for Dr. Spiral to recover and jump at him, stabbing the needle into the villain's thigh and pushing the plunger.

Masterlist

@augusnippets

[lolahasmoxie]

Merry Little Christmas (J.T.)

Look, it's me writing for someone other than Eddie!

TW: loss of a parent, all the feels.

(takes place in this universe)

Sad Kid check-in for those who are grieving this time of year. Take care of yourselves out there.

Jamie Tartt was many things. Footballer with a right foot blessed by god, a reformed prick, a beloved mama's boy.

He was also upfront and honest, so when you initially had told him your plans for the Christmas break, his response of "That's the saddest shit I've ever heard" hit hard.

The team was off until after the new year, so you had the time to return home. But holidays just weren't the same since your mom had passed away two years prior. So when Jamie asked what your holiday plans were, you said you would Facetime your friends and their kids, bake some cookies, get drunk on boozy eggnog, and cap the night off by watching Die Hard and eating Chinese food.

"No, there's no way I'm gonna let you stay here and have that be your Christmas."

"And how are you gonna stop me? You're going to be 200 miles away in Manchester?"

"Easy," he says as he flashes you a million-dollar smile. "Come with me."

You try to convince Jamie that there is nothing wrong with your plans, but Jamie is persistent. That's how, on December 23rd, you end up on a train with Jamie to return to his hometown. The train ride is quiet and less packed than you thought it would be. Jamie holds your hand the entire time, telling you everything he has planned for you.

Georgie and Simon meet you at the station, and when Georgie pulls you in and gives you a mother's hug, your heart physically aches. But you let her hold you, followed by Simon, before they usher the two of you into the car for the ride home.

Simon has a shepherd's pie waiting, and after you all stuff yourselves, Jamie takes you on a walk through his neighborhood. The streets are quiet as Jamie leads you by the hand to show you his old stomping grounds. When he kisses you under a streetlamp as the snow starts to fall, you think maybe this Christmas won't be that bad.

It's late Christmas Eve. Simon had made a fantastic dinner. All of you had worn colorful paper crowns and opened Christmas Crackers. You had beaten the pants off Jamie playing cards, and he had retaliated by trying to steal as many kisses from you as he could.

Now, it was almost 1am, and you are wide awake. You had quietly come down the stairs and taken a seat in front of the doors that opened onto Georgie's garden. The snow was falling again, and the world looked serene in the moonlight.

His heart breaks when Jamie sees you staring out the glass doors. He knew that things had been off with you, but he knew better than to push. Roy had told him to be patient, which was easier said than done. Jamie hated seeing you upset.

"If you're waiting for Santa, I'm afraid I have some news that might disappoint ya." You turned as Jamie approached you wearing a long-sleeved thermal and black boxer briefs.

"You should be in bed; it's late."

"Could say the same for you." he counters as he moves to sit on the floor behind you. He looks at you expectantly, and when he sees you give him a nod, he quickly wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you between his legs.

You sigh and let yourself relax into Jamie. There's a comfortable silence as the two of you watch the snowfall.

"I'm glad you came with me. And I know you've got something on your mind, but no pressure. Just tell me when you're ready, alright, love?"

Jamie softly runs his nose up and down the side of your neck as he holds you, and the tears that you've been trying to fight for days can't be held back any longer.

"Christmas Eve was my Mom's favorite, and it's the day I miss her most. We would talk and catch up, and I hate that she isn't here. I fucking hate it."

Jamie pulls you closer, hoping he can take some of the weight you're carrying. He's patient as he rocks you, moving to stand only when your crying has stopped.

"Come on," he says softly as he helps you to your feet. "There's my sweet girl."

"I'm all puffy and snotty." you quip as you wipe your eyes with the sleeve of your top.

"Still as beautiful as the first day I met ya."

"You're a liar, but you're sweet." His hands cup your face, and you let him pull you up for a kiss.

"Come on, I have an idea." You furrow your brow as you let Jamie lead you upstairs to the guest bedroom. His bed is simply not an option for two people, so he's joined you in the small guestroom Georgie and Simon had prepared.

"What are we doing?"

"You mentioned Die Hard in your original Christmas Eve plans," he says as he motions for you to climb into the bed. "So that's exactly what we're going to do."

"It's late. Are you sure?"

"I will consider it Christmas only when Hans has fallen off Nakatomi Plaza."

You curl into Jamie's side, and you are asleep before John kills his first terrorist. The snow outside starts to fall harder as Jamie watches you sleep. You lightly stir when he presses kisses into your hair.

"Merry Christmas, sweet girl."

[lancer-the-blue]

Episode 3 let's gooo! It's been some good shit so far

Gods damnit the Temple of Spinjitzu looks amazingly beautiful

Also cutest baby Riyu sleeping must draw

Awww I'm loving Arin's enthusiasm it's infectious

"Maximum awesome!" Stealing this

Ha love Lloyd fucking with Sora like that hilarious

Riyu's beaten his cutesness score! Look at him doing push ups! LOOK AT HIM

Awww that pic of Sensei Wu in the back hits hard

Lolz I know Lloyd ain't buying their shit but I love the idea of there being a multi cultural event at the crossroads celebrating different cultures, sounds amazing

Haha the Spinjitzu course fucking up is kinda funny "it always worked when Wu did it!" Priceless

"I was suppose to be doing that?" Adhd Lloyd confirmed

It's genuinely really wholesome Lloyd trying to mimic Wu ngl

Them be really judging Lloyd's facial hair? Gods this is so goooood

"TRUST ME IT'S THERE, NOW TRAIN" gold! This dialogue is pure fire!

Aaaaahhhhh the opening is so goooood, why can't it be a tad longer damn it

Gods I'm loving the call backs to Wu training Kai annnnd that Arin is naturally good at the training course by default because he innately knows Spinjitzu again the attention to details us amazing this season

Calling it here Lloyd knows they're planning to go to the Carnival

"Sneaking out will improve our stealth skills even Lloyd would appreciate that" gods damn it Sora is written so goooood

Is Riyu getting bigger or is the model just a bit off in that scene

Gods Riyu's disguise is so cute

Haha person charming, loving these call backs to previous seasons

LUBO LUBO

Gods I love frog guy so much!

Frohicky? Really *that's* his name?

Haha love the French snail people

*is that one of Kalimaar's siblings*

Also Lubo making is rain is peek

*is this the end of Lubo?' Noooooooo!

Gotta appreciate them reusing a lego set design more than once in the show ngl

That Hypnobrai being a chick really calls into question why Scales' partner wad pink lolz

*WAIT LLOYD DIDN'T NOTICE THEM GOING AND IS GENUINELY OBVIOUS*

"They snuck out! We would of never done this to master Wu!" Says the guy who *literally* released the Serpentine

"Ha that's a lie we totally would of" low key made me snort

"No Kreel, Lubo is spending Lubo's money. Lubo Lubo" the queen, the icon. *I love this ball shaped machine*

Kreel is kinda iconic too ngl

*did lubo just eat his money*

"Lubo defies you" that's hilarious tho

"Wait did I learn something from training today?" Ionic line ngl

Love Lloyd being socially anxious ngl, it's bemusing

OH MY GODS IT'S A SHRINE TO THE NINJA IT'S TUGGING AT MY HEART STRINGS

Awww they're too young to remember the ninja that's so heart breaking

No legit this is making me sob

"Naww it's the beard" oh mfg this show mannnnn

RIYU'S STILL DRESSED LIKE THAT

That burn against Lloyd ooof, also again attention to detail. You youngens don't get how spoiled you are with this fancy smansy new quality writing you got here

"You can't be a villain everybody loves you"

"Do not type cast me!!!" Lmfao this show mannnn

This guy is fucking psycho tho

This guy is iconic, banger after banger after banger iconic characters this season so far

IT'S AN EVIL NUTCRACKER

"This is like that nightmare I had" "it's a nightmare everyone's had" again fucking bangers!

OH IT'S A GREATEST SHOWMAN REFERENCE

OMFG Kreel giving Lubo relationship advice *I can't*

"Lubo's always free uphere" crown this fucking king!

Dawww Lloyd being supportive, also shadowing Arin's path to wanting to be better than he is

Damn Raz's voice is *deep*

And ep is over, again solid 8/10, maybe a 7.5 for not being as snappy as 1 and 2 but that may be nitpicking

[leynaeithnea]

Okay, Acro rant is here as promised :))

We've already said that my man is so toxic and insane it's illegal , the way he's absolutely flabbergasted by the mere idea of being forgotten by ash , being an afterthought to her while HE is constantly haunted by her, so obsessed he cannot think of anything else and obviously cannot ever forget her jajansnsnnss yeah we've discussed this

Now, I relistened to the rest of the songs and I'm stunned speechless by his actions. He goes to tattle about ash, then goes to her , gets her to betray Matty and arranges for that poor little meow meow to WATCH, then he's all happy to die and die with her. Did he even sleep at night? This is such a convoluted and masterful plan how the fuck did he come up with it ? Insane. And at the end he's just so happy to die??? You do all this to get your revenge and have ashra never forget you only to get both of yourselves killed right after ?? What??

I love that he wanted to take the easy way out on all this guilt for the shit that he did ( bc that's the other part of it !! He's insane but then he feels bad ! The guilt eats him alive when he hits ashra but then he hits again! He gets one harlot killed and he can't sleep at night so he gets another one killed!! Bro what ??) and Jesus was like "nuh-uh bestie you're gonna have to live with all of this <3 bye bye kisses have a good guilt ridden life I guess :)"

Like he's so complex I want to consume him kamsnsnsbn he's a bitch but he's in love but it's not really love it's obsession and wanting to be worshipped and wanting power over some idolized version of ashra and he's so miserable he just wants to die bc he can't see a way to live with his sins so he goes all out right before dying because nothing matters anymore and soon he'll pay, this is the solution, he'll pay and god will see he was shitty but got himself killed so it's fine he's fine he'll be forgiven he has to, either way he can't live, not anymore he can't he can't kaksmsnsnnsns

Last thing, I absolutely love that in another day passes pt2 EVERYONE is having their worst day ever , Ashra is miserable ,Matthias almost dies and ACRO DANCES HIS LITTLE DANCY DANCE BC HE CAN'T WAIT TO TRICK ASHRA INTO HAVING SEX AND THEN BEING KILLED

he's not normal at all, Jesus I know that you already saved him but can you give him therapy too? Please ??

"wanting to be worshipped and wanting power over some idolized version of ashra and he's so miserable he just wants to die bc he can't see a way to live with his sins so he goes all out right before dying because nothing matters anymore and soon he'll pay"

amazing summary btw

Aarco is a lil bich ✨ But he is suchhhhh a great antagonist/villain, because all of his actions can be tracked back to how he was raised and a chain of events that pushed him deeper and deeper into insanity.

It all started because of his jealousy of Matty and Ashra ("with jealousy inside"), a very human emotion which added on with bad coping bc of his upbringing. He was a teenager who grew up with abusive/violent parents/father ("when we made mistakes we were beaten the same way") which clearly explains how his bad emotional coping comes from. He got attached to Ashra because they were in the same boat in their upbringing ("her dad was a scribe so was mine"), someone to relate to and find comfort in ("youve been my refuge, my fortress to flee to"). Especially considering the gender expectations and upbringings at the time and place it would make sense that he saw her as a sort of "caretaker" for him and also that he kind of had a right to her love and affection ("so ill win and keep you/and if you dont know how to love me ill teach you"). They grew up together, their fathers knew each other, Aarco desired her so an engagement would be the next logical step.

But instead Ashra fell in love with Matthias, hes not fully part of the community. He's a half-jew, his father might be unknown? (I'm sure in the book we'd get more context but i don't have it so idk) But anything thats different = suspicious. Aarco gets jealous, of them and looks for a weakness, its not hard. There seems to be no father that could "protect" Mattias or his mother against rumors and since their integration into their community was already shaky its easy for Aarco to find smth.

Aarco is a teenager, he is not fully aware of the consequences of his actions, when he goes to his father and says that Matty's mother is prostituting herself in secret (which is a bad-bad thing for society, its against their religion and social expectations). Aarco thinks for that accusation Matty's mother and him would be shunned and exiled from their community...not that people would end up picking stones and kill his mother. When they start stoning her, he runs to Matthias for help (again, the notable absence of a father/male adult/protector role). By the time they get there, its too late. Matthias starts lashing out at the people and runs away when Ashra tries to get to him.

Aarco is traumatized. But hey, it worked right? Matthias is out of the picture, he left Ashra behind and now Aarco can get close to her. He is there for her, because Ashra has noone else, even if she still loves Matthias, Aarco is there, Matty isnt. Aarco knows that, and he starts clinging to Ashra because thats the only thing he can do, if he were to let go of her, the murder he was responsible for would have been for nothing. He clings to Ashra, in order to justify and ease his guilt. Everything becomes about her. Everything is for her. He needs her. He wants her. Desire becomes obsession. But its not enough. He still has nightmares, and he needs to numb his emotions. So he turns to anger and sensual pleasures that he wants from Ashra. But she keeps refusing him, distancing herself from him. He (tries to) respect her (her father). They're engaged. He only has to wait until the wedding and then he has all rights to her. But he hit her, over the ring because she didnt say she loved him. He needs her to say it, to know that she's devoted to him the way he is obssessed with her. But he was violent, that what he promised her he wouldnt do (because they do not want to be like their fathers, because she is scared that he will become like him). He knows he did her wrong, he hit her, he threatened her, he said he wouldnt.

He'll try, and if he fails he'll just apologize again, but he needs to give ashra space for now or he'll loose her, because Ash is ignoring and refusing any attempt of him to get physically close to her. Just until the wedding he has to wait.

And then he makes relation with this woman, who gots tired of her husband (who she probably got married to at a fairly young age, lets be honest, while he was probably a lot older) things lead onto each other (they should be around 21 by now age wise if i understood right) and they start an affair. He tells himself, just one more time. Its a way to numb the pain. (Note: Im loosing a bit of track chronolocially but bear with me i hope it still makes sense) Just one more time.........and then Ashra shows up at his door, to apologize. But the woman is still in his bedroom.

She finds out. Aarco apologises, thats all he has to do right? Ashra will be mad at him, but she'll learn to forgive him. But instead of anger, she's relieved. and that hurts him. because its such a clear sign that she doesnt care for him. Hes furious. He has to keep her. Matty has shown up in their life again and Aarcos never been so insecure about Ashras love, the second he showed up, Ashra completly turned away from him. All the hard work lost, just through one hug from Matthias. The man he wanted gone. Everything is for her. She says she will tell her father. She is a woman. He's close to her father. It will be easy to make sure they dont believe her. Because she belongs to him. So even before Ashra can speak with her father, Aarco goes to him and tells him that Ashra saw Matty again and now she's acting up (theyre treating her like a child). Ashra comes in and tell him that Aarco cheated, Aarco has the upper hand, he calls her a liar. Her father believes him of course, hes a man. His word is more relevant. Lying is against their religion. She gets beaten. She'll be fine. She'll be his again

.....only that she runs away, with Matthias. His biggest fear. Not only that, she leaves him a letter telling him that she will forget about him. Dumping him and pushing him into his darkest pit. She betrays her. The woman he promised himself salvation for his sins form. What else is there for him now? She choose the man he killed for to get rid of. Again. And Again, like everytime. So they must pay. He gets pushed to insanity because his whole life resolved around her and she rejected him, not only rejected but said she'd forget about him. Making him feel insignificant. The murder was for not. His soul is already lost to sin. He lied, he (indirecly) killed, he cheated. There is no saving himself. No, but the least he can do is drag Ashra and Matthias down with him.

He can shatter Matthias and forfeit Ashras life with his own, so theyll be together at least in death. All he has to do is wait. So he waits, until he sees them again. Matthias as a begging leper on the streets and Ashra with a child alone, a shadow of who she used to be, a harlot. After all this time, his time is finially come to get his revenege on them. He has a plan. He will invite himeslf to Ashra bedroom, because she has let him in before, the last time that Matthias left her. Now they're grown, she has no choice but to let him in really. He'll promise her to ease her pain. Show her how it couldve been, if she had choosen him instead of Matthias. But he wants Matthias to see, who his wife really is, a traitor, a cheat. So he faints that Matthias needs to get over himself and provide for his family. its his job. She is his wife, he's supposed to be the man in the house. But he ran, so the least he can do is provide with the money he made. While Matthias grabs what he has, frantic from almost dying and the confused by aarco saving him Aarco goes home to Ashra, and convinces her to let her in, he lets her take of Matthias ring. For old times sake, you know. They sleep with each other, he holds her, at least once. He knows how it couldve been. but he lied. It doesnt ease Ashras pain at all. She just feels worse.

It doesnt matter, because there are knocks at the door. What he has waited for. he holds Ashra close, doesnt let her go, even as she tries to run. The men come in. Caught in adultery. A crime to be punished with death through stoning. Aarco will die, good, he will finially pay for his crimes. And Ashra will be with him. Thats why he told them about Ashra before he invited himself to her bedroom. She'd pay, and so would he. Only that Jesus is in town some other official ask him for advice. And he tells them that the one who had never sinned should throw the first stone. Nobody can say that of himself. So they drop their stones and Ashra gets freed, sent home to her child. Thats terrible for Aarco, but at least he'll still be punished....only that Jesus also frees him. He forgives him. He frees him. He tells him he can let go of the burden, of the guilt and shame. He can let go of Ashra and beginn new. The chains that bound Aarco to Ashra - the guilt and obssesion to make it have been worth it - get cut. All of them are now free.

@thebestieyoureinlovewith

[sonofcoulson]

1970 Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. series 3

Episode 2

"Destiny":

Open on Azazel running, bamfing all over the place. Special forces are armed and in pursuit. It doesn't seem to matter where he bampfs to, someone is always there, or nearby, to intercept.

We cut to the S.H.I.E.L.D. team in their headquarters, tracking Azazel's movements and trying to coordinate teams. It seems like they are the ones pursuing him. But then on the third intercept, in Kazakhstan, they are almost beaten to it by another special forces team. They get in each other's way and Azazel is gone again. The two teams argue.

We cut to Val, who is livid. She wants to know how S.H.I.E.L.D. is one step ahead, how they are everywhere her teams are supposed to be. She is very suspicious of Irene as she is directing the manhunt with her (secretly) precognitive powers. She denies it but Val knows that Gyrich will have serious questions.

Azazel bampfs to location near his and Mystique's old apartment. Under his breath he wonders what made him come back here. He tries to clear his head for his next move when he spies…across the street…could it be? It's Mystique, gesturing for him to come over to a closed down store. He does and follows her inside without being spotted.

Mystique: Are you okay? Are you being chased?...Who's chasing you?...Azazel…

Listen, I know we're not together anymore but of course I'll help you…

Azazel: You can't. They keep showing up everywhere I go. I don't know how they know where I was going to. I don’t even know where I'm going to…

Wait, how did you know where I'd be?

M: …

A: Mystique? 

M: …I have…a friend who can see into the future.

A: Does your friend work with a SWAT team? Because that would explain a lot.

M (not answering the question): I can get you out of here, but you're going to have to trust me.

A: And why should I do that?

M: I trusted you to take the baby somewhere safe, didn't I?

A: …Yes

M: …Where did you take it…?

A: Those armed goons could be here any minute…please.

M: …Okay. See that truck across the street?

A: Yeah.

M: Take us to the trailer.

*bampf*

A: Wow. There is a lot of gear in here. Is Magneto helping you out?

M: No. I don't work for him anymore.

A: Who do you work for?

M: Myself…

I can tell you who's chasing you…

A: Who?

M: If you tell me where you took the baby.

A: Your foresight friend can't tell you that?

M: If I knew where we were going before and I got caught then…

A: They might get it out of you.

M: Where did you take the baby?

A: You mean our baby? Jeez.

M: Answer the damn question Azazel.

A (hesitantly): …Germany.

M (overlapping dialogue): Germany!?/

A: Shit!/ I knew if you found out you'd be angry…but…

M: Why Germany? I mean Canada or maybe even Mexico, but…damn right/ I'm angry about that!

A: I/ just wanted to…

M: Germany is nearly 4000/ miles away! By air!

A: I just wanted/ to…

M: You think/ it will be easy to get on an aeroplane?

A: Good God! Let me finish…I wanted to make sure the he was someplace safe.

A: Where the sapiens wouldn't find him.

A: With people I could trust.

M: …It…

A: Mystique.

M: Not ‘him', it.

M: Unless I'm holding that baby in my arms I don't want to think of it as a person. No connection. It is an it.

A: Then why do you care where ‘it' is?

A: Irene?

M: Because I still want it in my arms!

…Irene says there's a 43% chance that we leave here and go to find the baby, you and me.

M: My…foresight friend.

A: Your friend…is a girl? Just when you had me thinking I had competition.

M: Oh grow up.

A: There are less complicated ways to ask a guy out you know.

M: Don't flatter yourself. This is not about us. This is about freedom and finding our child.

This dialogue is cut here with S.H.I.E.L.D. and Val's troops continuing the search, maps being looked at, the rival teams in Kazakhstan arguing etc. Towards the end of the sequence we see Val realise she hasn't seen Raven for a while. She approaches Irene, leans in and whispers in her ear, “Where is Raven Darkhölme?”.

Mystique leaves Azazel in the back as he is ‘too conspicuous’ in the front. She genuinely thinks about making a run for it, but Val has discovered the double cross and contacts her on a secure frequency, convincing her to come back for Irene. She says Irene is not strong like Mystique and the finger of suspicion is already pointing at her and she can't protect her from Gyrich.

Mystique reluctantly agrees to bring him in to protect Irene. Azazel gets the jitters and wants out but realises he can't bampf away, he just materialises in the same spot, he is trapped in the van. Mystique hedged her bets and brought a van designed by Forge to neutralise his power. He bangs on the truck for her to let him out.

Good girl says Val in her ear. She yanks out the earpiece but goes back to hq anyway, for Irene.

Meanwhile, Peggy is having a somewhat heated exchange with the President. Peggy is adamant that she must speak to the team that is targeting mutants as she believes there is a more humane way to deal with the issue. Nixon is adamant that there is no such team. That he has never approved any agency to carry out these actions. But he does recognise the rise of these ‘mutants’ as a threat.

Peggy is not fooled by any of this and reiterates her concern and reminds him that S.H.I.E.L.D. has a deal with the American government where they don't keep secrets from each other.

After she hangs up she asks Howard if he is ready to trace the President's next call. Howard and the others are worried what will happen if the President finds out his call was traced. Peggy just says, “Then make sure he never finds out”.

Nixon is rattled and calls Henry Peter Gyrich to tell him that S.H.I.E.L.D. are on to them.

Gyrich believes the team's next target could be useful in this situation. Sean Cassidy has been seen/heard approaching New Jersey. He believes Cassidy is making his way to Camp Lehigh. Gyrich actually sees this as an opportunity to solve three problems:

1. Confirm and expose Raven Darkhölme as a traitor 

2. Capture Sean Cassidy and reduce the threat posed by him and Moira McTaggart. 

3. Destroy S.H.I.E.L.D.

He prepares to tell the team their next target.

We cut to Peggy on the phone to Moira McTaggart the next day. Moira warns them Sean is coming. Their source has told them Freedom Force's next target was Angel Salvadore and he wanted to be involved with the counter operation (Angel was once his friend).

The team start to wonder what that noise is. Moira says, that'll be Sean, you hear him before you see him.

Sean Cassidy comes in and introduces himself. He says the information only came in last night and he got there as quick as he could. The team are impressed with his powers.

He tells them where Angel is expected to be and when Cooper's team are expected to strike. They prepare to head out.

Cut to Val's small team. A couple of undercover agents are reporting on Salvadore's movements.

As they are preparing to go Jacqui melts together the doors of the store Freedom Force was hiding in, forcing them to find another exit and buying time.

Meanwhile Sean has intercepted Angel and is trying to convince her to come with him. She is caught off guard and torn between flying off and listening to him. She stays and he tries to convince her a government agency is after her. She reminds him that is nothing new for her. He tells her they have Magneto and Azazel, that they are coming for any and all mutants. This gives her pause.

As they are talking the Freedom Force (FF) agents have found an alternative route and swarm to their location.

Cassidy takes out the first with a sonic scream. Angel takes out another with her hardening goo spit thing (that is totally stolen from Toad in the 2000 movie). The agents keep on coming. Brian appears, bends the barrel of an agent's gun and then uses that agent to take out a bunch of others.

Jacqui arrives and puts a protective ring of fire around the group, with the threat of expanding it if they are threatened further.

Above, two snipers are taking aim at Jacqui. They ask for confirmation on the shot.

Howard pulls up with Hank. Asks him if he's sure his contraption will work. ‘Oh it'll work’ says Hank, testily.

He exits the car, puts on the mk I helmet, jumps and shrinks. This propels him way up the fire escape. He reaches the top of the building in two leaps. ‘Well I'll be…’ admires Howard.

The first sniper goes to check the noise from the fire escape. As his partner receives the go ahead for the shot, the first sniper is seemingly beaten up by an invisible assailant. As the 2nd sniper radios through an incomprehensible message about an attack by the invisible man, Hank's suit fails and he appears, full size. Dumbfounded for a second, the sniper is just recovering his wits (and his weapon) when Hank just charges him, knocking them both off the roof. They battle on the way down.

Hank's suit finally releases the Pym Particles and he leaps safely from the falling sniper and lands within Jacqui's flame barrier and returns to full size. Everyone is surprised as Hank had kept his project secret from everyone.

The sniper lands on his Freedom Force Colleagues and they are given permission to shoot through the flames.

As they open fire, James Braddock pulls up in an unmarked S.H.I.E.L.D. van. They bundle in, Angel Salvadore and all, and speed away.

After evading the agents at the scene,  they realise they are being followed by a black sedan on the highway. A window rolls down on the sedan and an FF agent fires.

Hank: Brian, open the doors.

Angel: Are you crazy? They're shooting at us!

H: I'm gonna stop them shooting.

James (Calling from the front): There's no need. Stark bullet-proofed it.

H: But what if they follow us to Camp Lehigh? What if they shoot out the tyres?

Jacqui: Dr. Pym, please! You'll be killed…

H (to Brian): Just…open the doors Falsworth! I know what I'm doing. 

Brian obliges and Hank leaps out of the back of the van, shrinking as he does so.

The process fails halfway through and he smashes, full size, into the windscreen of the Sedan. His speed relative to theirs and his super secret Pym Tech suit protect him from serious injury.

Hank and the FF agents are dazed. They recover first and the shooter readies their pistol. Fortunately the suit tech works this time and he shrinks and enters the vehicle through the open window. While the agents wonder where he went, he operates the hood release causing it to catch the wind and flap up, obstructing their view. He catches sight of Howard speeding behind them to catch up and radios for him to pull up alongside.

As the FF Sedan crashes into a barrier, Pym leaps into the cabriolet. Howard swerves to avoid the crashing vehicle and the S.H.I.E.L.D. vehicles speed off to Camp Lehigh. 

When the rescue team return to base,  they start to celebrate and Sean is catching up with Angel.

Peggy upbraids them and tells them not to celebrate as she knows there will be consequences for what they have just done.

Back at FF headquarters, Val Cooper brings the ‘bad news’ of Salvadore’s escape to Gyrich. He is not upset, he simply smiles, points out that S.H.I.E.L.D. have ‘crossed the line’ and adds…

“Release the hounds…”

We flashback to Irene's psychology evaluation from a few weeks before.

Dr Darkhölme gets her to state her name and job title for her recording. They go through some details of her past, but not too deep yet.

Raven circles back to Irene's job.

Raven: You are in their foresight division.

Irene: Yes.

R: It's your job to predict what is going to happen before it happens.

I: Yes.

R: And you're usually correct. Is that right?

(*Irene nods*)

That's quite a skill.

I (after a pause): May we stop the recording for a moment.

R: Agent Cooper prefers that we get this all on tape.

I: I would like it to be private.

R: …

I: After you have heard it you may decide whether to put it on tape.

R: …Interview paused at 4:45pm.

(*stop the tape*)

What did you have to say that couldn't be on the recording Irene?

I: My predictions are not a skill.

R: No? What are they then?

I: …A gift…Like yours.

R (somewhat rattled): …What do you mean?...A gift from who?

I: I am a mutant. Like you.

R: …Did Cooper put you up to this?

I: No. Frau Cooper does not want us to know each other's secret.

That we are not the only one.

That we are both mutants, both being held here against our will.

R: How do I know Cooper's not listening right now?

I: She is not. No one is. The others trust you. Cooper trusts you.

R: Why should I trust you?

I: You will come to trust me because my precognitions are accurate…

My probabilities are accurate…

They will save lives…

Mutant lives…

I believe we will do this work together. I believe that it is our destiny.

R: Irene…I…I'm just trying to survive here.

I: Well…you have been tasked with capturing the other Brotherhood members, yes?

R: …Yes.

I: There is a 43% chance that when you find Azazel you will leave with him to find your child. I can give you the time to get away.

R: …You can do that? You can get me out of this. And get me to the baby.

I: Yes. The chance is only based on the path you choose. If you decide to leave with Azael then you will be successful.

R: And if I do leave? What happens to you and the others?

I: …Nothing is for certain. It all depends on the choices we make.

R: What about working together? Our ‘destiny’?

I: That is your decision to make.

*There is a loud knock on the door*

Guard (from the other side): Dr Darkhölme! Cooper says to wrap it up. You're needed in the command centre. 

*A moment's silence…aaaaand scene.*

[super-ion]

Ion & Emily

Cannonball's Story - Part I

Ion & Emily Masterpost

Emily and I are laying in bed. She's reading something on her phone… something about deconstructivism I think, I'm not one hundred percent sure. Don't get me wrong, her art is amazing and I absolutely love when she talks shop, but I sometimes get lost when she gets really deep into it.

Sorry. I'm getting distracted… Emily. Girlfriend. My very favorite person in the world. I love her. She's amazing.

Okay, so we're laying in bed. Her back's to me and I'm tracing the dragon tattoo on her back with my fingertips. All of a sudden, something clicks in my mind.

"Wait a minute," I say. "You're indestructible. How do you have tattoos?"

Because she's former child superhero Cannonball, notable for being completely impervious to any injury. I still can't get over the fact that I'm dating a celebrity I had a huge crush on as a teenager… sorry, distracted again.

Anyway, she puts her phone down and rolls over to face me and she's got this really thoughtful look on her face, like there's a story here with a ton of emotion behind it. She looks at her wrist and the really rough star tattoo there. Like, super rough, like a diy at home stick and poke looking thing.

"Do you want the short version or the long version?" she asks.

Oh god, I want the long version.

"I want the version you want to share," I reply.

She smirks. She knows I want the long version.

"Alright, so like… two months after I turned eighteen…"

Emily wiped the condensation off the mirror. A black eye stared back at her. It took a lot for her to bruise, indestructible as she was, but hit her hard enough in just the right way and it could leave a mark. For example, a thrown I-beam to the face could do the trick.

She and John had been fighting Topaz Titan and things had gotten slightly out of hand. John, Shadowkid, made the mistake of stepping in wet concrete. Topaz saw his shot and launched the projectiles at him. Emily barely managed to shove him out of the way when it hit. She must have blacked out for a minute or two; when she came too John had beaten the absolutely crap out of Topaz. Both of them knew how to end a fight just as well as drag one out. The I-beam had been meant to kill, so it was an invitation for the gloves to come off.

The fact was Topaz Titan had meant to hurt them. And that scared the crap out of her.

John was content to linger and preen with the media, but all she had wanted to do was go home and stand in the shower until she could forget and just not feel any more.

Normal teenagers weren't supposed to worry about shit like this. Normal kids her age were filling out college applications and worrying about asking their classmates to dances or whatever. Emily wasn't normal. She never had been normal. 

How could she be? The daughter of Cobalt Blade and Moon Fox had a legacy to uphold. Thank god she had a twin brother to help shoulder that burden… Shadow Kid and Cannonball, 2011's Junior Superhero Team of the Year…

In some ways, that was worse, but at least she wasn't alone.

As the room filled with steam, she saw her whole miserable life stretch out in front of her. Fight the bad guys, pose for the cameras, rinse, wash, repeat ad infinitum. Sure, some of the bad guys were in on the bit, vital cogs in the superhero industrial complex. They were there to help her sell toothpaste or athletic gear or whatever the hell product the sponsor of the week was trying to sell.

But then there were always the real bad guys, the real threats. When they showed up, it would be on her to defend and protect. It would be on her to take every punch, every bullet, every lightning bolt. She was Cannonball. Her powers put her right in the line of fire. Every. Single. Time.

And it would never end.

She glared at the girl in the mirror, daring her to derail the carrousel of her life. She wanted to scream, she wanted… something… anything.

Not that that would accomplish anything substantive. The last time she had done something impulsive, the last time she had tried to take control of her life, it got spun into something marketable. She chopped off her hair and stuck a pride pin on her costume and now she was another symbol for rainbow capitalism.

And yeah, she had submitted applications to art schools, just a tiny little act of secret rebellion. The problem was her schedule was so packed, her portfolio was notably barren. There was no time for art. There was barely time for regular school work.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a sharp knock at the door. A moment later, Janice entered. Despite her dark mood, Emily felt a tiny thrill at the presence of her girlfriend-

"Wait, wait, wait. Pause. Time out." I interject. "Janice? As in Janice from media relations?"

Emily pinches the bridge of her nose and lets out a heavy sigh.

"Yeah… that Janice. She interned with our media team. She was two years older than me, she was hot. We ended up dating for a minute."

"...What??"

"Listen, it's not like I had many dating prospects at the time. Can you blame horny dumbass baby lesbian me for falling head over heels for the first girl to bat her eyelashes at me?"

"But… Janice?"

She smacks me with a pillow.

"I'm bearing my soul here, and you're making fun of me," she chides with a wry tone. "Do you want to hear the story or not?"

"Okay, sorry. Please, do continue."

-Janice. Punctual, dependable, occasionally cold Janice.

Emily turned to face her, desperate for some indication that everything was alright, that she was overreacting.

"Ah," Janice said, wincing slightly at the sight of the bruise. "Let's take a look at that."

Her hands were firm and gentle as she took Emily's face in them. She examined the black eye with a clinical expression and pursed lips.

"Well…" she said finally. "It's not too bad. We'll have to cancel tomorrow's photoshoot, but you should be okay for Thursday's interview with some make up. We can do the run through for that during the photoshoot time slot."

Emily felt the bottom drop out of her stomach. She should have anticipated that. She didn't know exactly where the breaking point was until that exact moment.

She pulled away from Janice and faced the mirror once more.

"I can't do this," she whispered, desperately trying to keep her voice from breaking.

Janice cocked her head.

"What? The interview? We can probably-"

"No!" Emily shouted. She gestured to the room with its bland, generic superhero posters. She gestured to where her costume still lay crumpled on the floor. She gestured to the tablet in Janice's hand where every single minute of her life was scheduled.

"This!" Emily snapped. "All of this. I can't do this any more. I can't keep being a superhero. I can't keep going on like this. I can't go on having every damn minute of my life scheduled. I can't go on having the shit beat out of me because I can take a punch. I hate it. I never… goddamnit, I never wanted to do it in the first place. I'm done. I quit."

Janice's mouth dropped open and her eyes practically bugged out. In their entire time together, Janice had always been perfectly composed. Emily had never seen her shaken before this moment. Emily couldn't blame her, she was basically watching her nascent career go up in flames.

"What are you… no, you can't," Janice replied with a slight tremor. "There's… contracts and sponsors and-"

"I don't care," Emily interrupted. "We have an army of lawyers, let them figure it out. I'm. Done."

"Emmy, where is this coming from? Talk to me."

Emily closed her eyes and sighed. This was the hardest part, she knew it was coming, but that didn't make it any easier.

"Janice… I think… I think we're done too."

There was a beat, then a soft gasp.

"Are… are you breaking up with me?"

Emily squeezed her eyes tighter.

"Yeah, I guess I am."

"Oh… I… excuse me…"

Emily didn't open her eyes as Janice fled the room. Instead, she clutched the edge of the sink until her knuckles hurt and gave up trying to fight back her tears.

It was for the best, she told herself. They weren't right for each other, it had always just been some stupid teenager's romantic fantasy. She almost believed it, almost convinced herself that it would be alright. Maybe she'd believe it one day, but right now it felt too raw.

She finally opened her eyes and looked at the girl in the mirror. Despite her heartache, despite the fact that she just upended her entire life, she felt indescribable relief. The whole gamut of emotion warred on inside her as she tried to make sense of her reflection.

The girl staring back at her was Emily. Not Cannonball. Just Emily. Normal, nothing special Emily. It was a version of her that didn't have to worry about posing for photos to sell shampoo or appearing in science education videos aimed at middle schoolers. It was a version of her that could go to college, get an art degree, maybe work at a coffee shop or something to pay the bills. It was a version of her that could be free.

She glanced back at her discarded costume.

She was never wearing it again.

She needed to get out of there. It didn't matter where, just anywhere that wasn't the Tower.

She sprinted to her closet and threw on some street clothes. Ratty jeans, leather jacket, her favorite boots… god, she could wear whatever she wanted and not have to listen to Janice complain about her fashion choices.

That thought brought a twinge of guilt. 

No, Janice would be fine. She was too relentless, too driven not to land on her feet. This was for the best.

Emily threw open the door, only to find herself face to face with her brother. They were the same age, minutes apart, but somehow he had managed to gain six inches on her when they were fifteen and she had never caught up, so she had to tilt her head slightly to meet his eyes. Those eyes, the same brown as hers, looked down at her with confusion and concern.

"John," she said dazedly.

His was the one opinion in the world she actually cared about and she wasn't sure she was quite ready for this inevitable confrontation.

"Em… uh… I was just coming to check on you and…" he glanced over his shoulder down the hall. "Is Janice alright? I've never seen her that upset… like, ever."

"I just broke up with her," Emily said dully. "I think I might have broken her heart."

"Okay…" he replied. "Uh… you wanna talk about it?"

She took a breath. Here goes nothing.

"John," she said. "You remember how we promised we'd have each other's backs no matter what?"

"Yeah…" he replied cautiously.

"I don't… I don't know if I can…"

She took another breath.

"I'm quitting the League," she admitted. "I'm retiring. No more Cannonball."

He huffed a laugh and ran a hand through his hair. She blinked in confusion.

"Em," he said with a smile. "I've got your back. I'll always have your back. But, like, that promise wasn't just about super shit. I mean, admit it, you've been totally miserable the past few months."

It was Emily's turn to let out a laugh. Of course he knew. He knew her better than anyone. Maybe he was the only person who knew her.

"Yeah, I guess so," she admitted. "I don't know, it was fun at first, I guess. I just… this isn't the life I want. I don't want to be the punching bag for the rest of my life."

He took her shoulders in his hands and peered down at her.

"Em. It's fine. You can quit. Don't worry about what anyone else thinks. Not Janice or mom or dad or even me. You gotta do what's best for you. I love you and I want you to be happy."

More tears filled her eyes.

"Who are you and what have you done with my brother?" she asked as she wiped at her cheeks.

He laughed and she wrapped her arms around him in a tight embrace.

"Still got my back?" he asked, returning the hug.

"Mhmm," she replied as more tears fell.

"I need to go out for a bit," she told him when she finally let go. "Gotta clear my head. Can you cover for me?"

"Uhh… how late do you think you'll be back?" he asked warily.

She shrugged.

"As long as you can give me."

~~~

Shoutout to @the-sword-lesbian for inspiring me ask the important questions like "how the hell does Emily have tattoos?" which I promise will be answered in part 2

[renoxvated]

"You have a lot to answer for!" “Do I? For what? Your greed? Curiosity? You came here on your own, no one held a gun to your head.“

"Might as well of put that collar on yourself."

"Unless you come down here, I'll destroy the vault and everything in it!" Roy's white knuckled, body broken, beaten, he feels so angry and raw like an exposed nerve. Doesn't think he's ever been in a worse situation than this, backed into a corner waiting for the next strike down. It made him feel like a child again, in the worst ways that he thought he buried deeper than his mother’s grave. So he threatens, plays his last hand, his ONLY gamble that he's got left. "No... I don't think so, It'd most likely trigger the other security measures...if you hurt the vault at all. The builder of this casino built it to last, the Sierra Madre withstood the war. I'm sure the vault is protected as well. Besides, you wouldn't have followed the signal if you didn't want this places secrets for your own, you're curious, past the threats." The voice booms, commanding and snide, Roy flinches when the older man speaks, like a wound being pulled open slowly, methodically. Roy's knees buckle under the weight, the PRESSURE of it all. "Forget the vault, the elevator is only a single control box." He responds back, he knows enough to fuck this shit up, he thinks. If he doesn't well he can just bluff right? Anything to just buy him sometime to THINK...god fuck, Roy THINK. He can't, his head is throbbing, so many wounds, but the others are depending on him, hell he's depending on himself, he's going to fucking die here after everything. "The elevator. Then you'd be trapped for certain, no probability of escape." Roy knew that, knew this was a bad hand he was dealt, but...if he was going to die here then he'd spite this bastard. "Throwing a wrench into the works is what I do best." Roy responds back, letting out a laugh, it's pained and he doesn't really find this situation funny, he wants to cry. For the first time in a long time he wants to just SOB, he always thought he'd break before he'd bend and oh god is he breaking. "Even... if you damaged the mechanism...there's a chance of repairing it. It might take years...but it's possible. Persist in threatening me... or the Sierra Madre's secrets, you're of no use to me I'll set off the collar now." The voice booms again, reminding him of his short leash, his collar. Roy hadn't forgotten, how could he with a beeping reminder every time he'd do something, anything WRONG. "I'll clip the wires to this intercom, and then the Pip-Boy." Roy's voice doesn't wavier, even if his body is, he refuses to, refuses to die without a fight even if he can hardly stand right now. He's so glad he didn't bring Rex here, so scared to think he might not ever see his friend. If he doesn't get to say goodbye...would Rex think he abandoned him? Could New Vegas and the strip move on without him? Fuck, fuck, fuck! "Huh, clever. Whoever designed the Sierra Madre... their obsession with messing with frequencies and signals...I'm coming down, I'll meet you face to face at the vault entrance. If you resist, I'll use the collar, even if it puts the vault at risk." The way the man speaks, it was...Roy thought it HAUNTING. Like the ghosts in this godforsaken hotel. Where was Lady Luck now? Was this his only shot? Roy panics for a brief moment, like a dog not knowing where to hide when its master is coming to reprimand it. Roy chokes back the tears threatening to spill, hand grasping a heavy golden bar-- he needed something, anything at all...he was always so good with his hands. Roy moves around the pylon in the middle of the room, he's got to hide, got to wait until that bastard is moving around the corner to come see him. Forget the gold, forget everything here but getting back home. 'I won't leave them...I won't abandon them...' He repeats in his head like a mantra, no a prayer that this works...

Then he spots him, and oh god does Roy feel the RAGE bubbling up, like bile; he thinks it's so red hot that he might puke. Benny mad him angry, made him stupid (more than usual) in a lot of ways, he thinks about in retrospect...but at the end of the day Benny was just a man, much like The Courier, a man Roy could understand...but Elijah? No he was a MONSTER, the kind of man that scared even the Mojave Boogeyman. Roy attacked, teeth clenched into a snarl, maw gaping when the first strike hit, he could feel the splatter against his hand, feel it SLICK against the gold. Roy wants to scream, wants to say something anything to make Elijah feel like he felt, beat him down, break him down, TWIST his bones until he feels the crunch into flesh. Roy doesn't have time, he's already used too much, he hears the beeping--oh fuck, oh fuck, NO.

Roy turns on his heels and tries to run out the door, if he can just be quick enough-- he can do this, he can make it out ALIVE IN ONE PIECE. Then he's pulled back and there's a laugh, like the DEVIL HIMSELF was d r a g g i n g him back into HELL. The beeping is LOUDER, FASTER.

"You... think you've out smarted me? You can't get away, you're the one on a leash, always were."

There's got to be no time left now, but Six gives way to one hard PULL, he's stronger than the DEVIL HIMSELF, at least physically-- then he's outside the vault, as if it's all over, as if it never happened, oh fucking god he's free. He's Free...HE'S FREE. Roy knows how that guy back in Nipton felt. He motions to cradle his face in his arms as he slumps onto the ground, dropping the gold bar as he does so that's in his right hand, he can't stand he's going to be sic--oh. His arm is gone. Roy stares for what feels like hours, it's only seconds, he SCREAMS. His voice howling into the night like a grief he's never felt. He's SOBBING. This is...this is all so much, too much. Then he's LAUGHING, like it's a joke even though his face is affixed into a tragedy. "I HOPE YOU CHOKE ON THAT GOLD ASSHOLE, YOU CAN FUCKING SHOVE IT YOU GODDAMN PRICK." He screams, voice cracking and choking out his words, the others gather around him.

He doesn't remember much, just a crushing agony deep in his chest-- they tell him the hardest part is letting go, they tell him he should leave the gold, that nothing good came from it. He thinks that's all a bunch of bullshit...he let go of more than ANYONE, for THEM. So Roy takes the gold back with him, stares at it long and hard when they've stopped the bleeding enough for him to drag himself back to the Lucky 38. And after all that's said and done? He listens to the radio, searching for an old song, his favorite one. 743.00Hz ULF "Heh… now, come on, you open up. Open up, damn you. Open the vault…! I can make it worth your while, think about what you're throwing away. I have other weapons, other technology I can share with you. The collars… the collars were a mistake, I see that now. Why would I kill you? After all you've done… after all we've done together. Are you listening to me?! Everything down here, I-I Swear, so much you could see! You could rule the wastes with what's down here, make your own army, re-shape the world, and if others disagree… put collars on them, I can show you how. Don't you leave me here! You can't do this to me! Must be someone… maybe that other courier, one with the flag on his back… maybe… no… no, said he'd never come to the Sierra Madre…No way out. Can't… can't end like this."

"You. I know you can hear me. When you die, Courier… I'll be waiting. Your grave's going look just like this vault." If hell is real, if it's a vault in that hotel waiting for him, he'll make sure to flick off the guy waiting for him there, one golden gilded finger waiting for the DEVIL too.

[cellarfulofnose]

Heart of the Country

Well, life on the farm is kinda laid-back...

(submitted by my lovely muse @adreadfulcantata. happy birthday ^3^)

Paul's milking the goat when the melody comes to him. He mumbles a line, and it almost shapes itself (really, there's only so many places the chord changes can go), but then Tina tosses her head and he realizes he's stopped in his work. He resumes diligently, raising his head to call out over Tina's back.

"Lin?" His breath fogs out into a pale cloud in the cold of the baby-blue morning. Swish, swish, sings the pail, ringing with each jet of milk.

"What?" Linda stands where she'd been squatting next to the chicken coop. There's only a small handful of eggs in her basket, and they're covered in hay and feathers and chicken shit but they're all lovely, the shells varying from blue to green to brown.

Paul blinks, because she's perfect and he doesn't have his camera. He hums the line again. "What d'you think?"

"What's that?"

"For the--second song." He hums it again, and taps his foot too. It's bluesy like that; a gut bass wouldn't go amiss.

Linda hums it back, nodding thoughtfully to the beat, then raises her eyebrows in acknowledgement. "I like it. It swings."

Paul gives a little wiggle, shoulders and hips, as well as he can for kneeling on the ground. Tina's all done; she walks off in search of her kid. He and Linda throw the tune back and forth a few times until it's got legs. On the walk back to the house, he starts to ad-lib, scatting a few bars, just until he can get his hand around a pen and start writing words. But it's a pan-handle that ends up in his hand instead, once they cross the threshold into the kitchen--omelets really can't wait. Linda compromises, lets him drag out a tape recorder to catch their little breakfast demo. As longs as he keeps cooking.

"What's that, Delta blues?" she asks, pouring tea.

"Mm, not quite. Little more country-western." A Texas drawl bleeds through to tug at his vowels, harden his r's. He adds diced peppers, tomatoes, and a handful of spinach to the beaten eggs. As they sizzle on the skillet, he whistles. Linda dances, shoulders shimmying. He laughs.

"This is nice, isn't it?" He's not planning to say it, but. Jesus, the sun coming through the window, the wind chimes on the porch. Somebody's got to.

"It smells great," Linda agrees--means to.

Paul chuckles. "No, the--"

"Oh, the song? Yeah, it's a good one."

"I just meant..." He gestures as well as he can with a spatula in one hand and a pan at the other. Shrugs at the room. "Just this."

"Hmm." There's a clink as she sets down the teacups, then her hands slide into his pockets from behind, and she kisses his shoulder. He curls against her, still too busy fending off burnt eggs to give much of anything back. But she's there for a breath, a side-to-side sway, then she's gathering plates.

"The country tune, it's not bad, though," Paul says a bit later, omelets plated and toast buttered.

"No. I like it."

He hesitates a moment, then, "John would hate it."

"Well," Linda says with exaggerated shock, "then." Might as well scrap the whole thing, hadn't we?

"I mean, I don't really mind, though. It's such a high, isn't it? Writing together?"

"It's kind of an ego trip," she admits, "making something ex nihilo. I don't know how you two kept your heads on." She raises the teacup to her lips. "Don't know how you stayed so ridiculously humble." Her eyes widen, then crinkle with a smile as she drinks.

Paul flips his hair over his shoulder, preening for her. He'll play the prima donna, because it's funny and she's right. He fancied himself a god among men once and, well, forgive him, but they were creating life out of nothing.

All right, not out of nothing. Thesis-antithesis, synthesis. Not genesis. It was part of them put together that grew into something as alive as a song, as self-sufficient as an album. Like...like childbirth.

Paul thinks of all the young songs toddling about out there, hyphenated to bear his last name, some old enough now to be starting primary school. He finishes his toast.

A few mouthfuls of bread doesn't push it down all the way, though. As they clean up, he starts talking again; not necessarily saying anything, mind you. "I think, with me and John, it was sort of..."

Linda pauses, giving him ample time to spit out the word he's looking for. He doesn't. "Give me a hint."

Paul shakes his head and hands her a dish to dry. "Not like exercise, you know, not a chore, like we were forced to, but we sort of...had to. Had to get it out, you know?" He gestures too broadly, wrist-deep in suds, and splashes his shirt.

"Cathartic?"

It clicks nicely. "Yeah," he says, because he's not going to find a better match than that. Purifying release. Yet it feels too...clean, somehow. Too pretty.

"Do you miss him?"

Paul doesn't like the feeling that floods his chest. The specific brand of defense that used to keep his blood pumping whenever they'd sit for American journalists. It's self-preservation--keeps him from blurting, Why the hell would you ask me that? Besides, he's not angry at her. She's not going to print it in the papers. She just wants to know.

He takes a breath. "Course I do, yeah. I mean. Shouldn't I?"

"What do you miss most about him?"

All right, that's...he's still not angry with her. He allows himself a laugh that's really a sigh. "Lin."

"Or is it the songwriting that you miss?"

"No. I don't--I just--" Linda motions for Paul to give her the next dish, and he rinses it and hands it over. "I mean, he's my best friend, I just. Miss him." She's quiet, so he continues. "I miss havin' him around."

"To do what?"

"Not to do anything, to just be there. Just be around each other." Paul shrugs. "I miss that."

Linda leans against the counter and smiles. "Great. Say that."

Paul blinks at her. "What, I just miss--"

"Not to me. Goober." She swats him with the dish towel. "Pick up the telephone. And say it to John."

"Oh." Paul huffs, taking great care not to roll his eyes as he reaches across the counter for an aubergine. "Right, let me just--"

"Go--down--the road." She punctuates each beat with another gentle whack from the dish towel and sets the last plate up in the cupboard.

Paul opens his mouth to protest, but it sort of dissolves. "Okay." Even now, this path is giving him uneasy footing. It's too simple. If it were that easy, he would've already just...wouldn't he? He dries his hands and rolls his sleeves back down. They're cold; he couldn't stop them getting wet. What harm is there in humoring her, though?

He must look like he's taking his sweet time, because Linda asks if he needs tuppence for the phone. As a matter of fact, he can manage, thank you, so he starts to hike down the road. The sun's coming up now. Just after six; Heather won't be up for half an hour yet. The driveway's all but dry now. After the last month's heavy rains, Paul was sure they'd be wading knee-deep in mud the rest of their lives, and yet. Slender green shoots will be daffodils soon, and then it'll be summer.

Paul's halfway to the phone box when he remembers the tape recorder. What a coda for the only demo of their country song--I miss him, I miss him, boo-hoo-hoo. Bleeding Christ. He's going to have to cut that tape. He picks up his pace, partly just to keep up with the way his lungs have kicked into fourth gear, but it's a bad idea. All of this. Right, he'll pick up the phone and call John, who he last spoke to through a lawyer, and tell him...tell him what, exactly? No, he can forget about the whole thing. He's not doing it. At least the trip isn't a total waste--he's getting a nice hike out of it.

He picks up the phone. He doesn't know why, but there's no harm in it, really. He could call Ringo, while he's here. His dad. Either of those would be reasonable options.

He dials John.

After six rings and no answer, Paul's stomach churns with the possibility that John just won't pick up. It should be a relief, infinitely preferable to what's absolutely going to happen instead (John will answer, and at the first note of Paul's voice, he'll slam it back down on the hook), but it's about to make him sick.

"Hello?"

It's not John. It's a woman's voice, but not Yoko, either. Paul almost stops breathing, certain he's got the wrong number, but it must be their staff, he realizes.

"Um." He can already hear himself putting on a BBC accent, and he hates it, but he's not sure what he would say if he didn't. "Hello, is John there, please, I'd like to speak with him."

For some reason, the woman doesn't ask who he is or why he wants to talk to John, just tells him to please wait a moment. Frankly, Paul's not impressed. Why bother with staff if they won't even screen your calls? It could be anyone on the other end of that line. He could be some kind of madman, some crazy ex-lover or--

"Hullo?"

At the sound of John's voice, Paul's not quite sure where he is for a moment. Not here, at least, not now. It doesn't seem plausible. He closes his eyes and says, "Hiya, John."

There's a silence so long that Paul bites his lip and starts to take another breath to repeat himself, but finally, "...Paul?"

"Hey," he breathes, staccato. His heart is racing like this is a matter of survival. There's no reason for it to be. It is, after all, a telephone call. He clears his throat. "Listen, I'm...are-are you doing anything right now?"

There's a sound like scoffing, as if John's too bewildered to string together a whole word. Then, "...Yes."

"Oh." Paul's throat tries to close, hot and aching. He forces a careful breath and continues. "I can just--"

"What do you want, exactly?"

Million-pound fucking question, there, thinks Paul. It's one he can't answer, so he gives John the next-best. "I miss you, mate."

He gnaws his thumb through another brick-load of a silence, before filling it with, "Just thought I'd...ring you and tell you."

"Oh you did, did you?" John says, with no pause this time, because it's a reflex, easier than speaking. It's a double-edged sword, not only lambasting this stupid bloody idea but insinuating that maybe it wasn't even Paul's to begin with; oh, YOU did, did you? "And that'd change, what?"

"No. I, I know. I just...look, it's the truth, I-- And I don't like that we've grown apart, you know."

There's a scratch of static, like John is moving the phone. "Do you hear yourself, man?"

More than either of us would like, Paul grouses to himself. But like he's always done, he keeps going. "No, listen, I know I-... I know what I did to push you, and I'm sorry. I am. I just can't stand it bein' like this, you know, we're not meant to be goin' at each other, or not speaking to each other, I--" He sighs. "Don't you miss it?"

"Miss what?"

Paul rubs his eyes. At some point, they'd closed again. "Be nice if you came out here, is all. Saw the farm."

"Nice. Yeah. What, so I can see how nice and bloody perfect your life is now? Without--without--is that it? You and Little Bo Peep?"

"I really, I really just thought you'd like to see it up here, and it's not, you know, John, it really isn't." Paul laughs a bit, only enough to make his breath shake, enough to wind him. "Without you. It's really not."

There's a huff, then another, heavier breath. "All right," John says, slowly. He doesn't sound happy.

Paul rakes his hand through his hair a few times, trying to weigh how lost a cause this is. "I'm writing a song. We are, Linda and me. You'd, oh, you'd hate it."

It's enough of a non sequitur that John actually laughs, a quick burst of disbelief before quieting again. "Yeah, I bet," he says after a while.

"No, it's Woody Guthrie doing musical chairs, it's really..." They're both laughing now, long enough that Paul can actually catch his breath. "I meant it, you know. You should come up here."

John doesn't laugh. "Paul."

"Not now, obviously--"

"But I can't just--"

Something kicks in Paul's chest. An unwise flicker of hope. John's arguing logistics with him now, not morals, not justification. "No, no, I know," he quickly says, "just sometime--"

"I..." John sighs. Struggles with something. "I'd have to...I'll, um. I'll call you back, all right?"

"...Yeah." Paul's heart doesn't just drop. He's pretty sure he can feel it split on impact, like a sack of flour. "Sure, yeah." Distantly, he remembers that this is a public phone box and he hasn't left John any number, and knows there won't be a call back. But it's all right. He got further than he expected. Hell, at least he got the bloody words out. Take that, Linda. That's what this was about. She hadn't said to invite him up here; probably would flip her wig if she knew he'd tried. Tell him what you told me. Those were her instructions. Check, done.

"Wait, hang on," John says. "Wait. Don't hang up, all right? I've--hang on."

"Okay," Paul breathes, automatic as if someone's just put a coin in him, and waits. And waits. There was a rough noise earlier like John put the phone down, but now there's nothing; no background chatter, no hold music.

Paul watches a lady beetle crawl up a stalk of grass. He follows the wispy trail of an airplane. He waits and thinks and stews and worries and just as he's about to ask if anyone's still there, John's voice comes through the line.

"Paul? You there?"

"Yeah, I'm here. I'm here."

"There's a flight, um..." John sounds a little out of breath. "Just got one of the last ones, actually, so I can, um. Tomorrow. Is--can I? Is that all right?"

Tomorrow.

Paul's vision swims. He feels like he's in a car, driven by someone who's pressing down the brake and the gas as hard as they can simultaneously. He could sing. He's going to die. "Yeah," he says. "Great."

"All right, then."

Paul swallows. "Good. Yeah."

They say good-bye, John hangs up. It is, after all, just a phone call.

Paul makes the seven-minute hike back up to the farmhouse in about ten seconds. He's never felt this full-to-bursting with conflicting energy. He wants John to come, but every time he thinks about it, his stomach lurches with a feeling remarkably like dread. Tomorrow? He's got a day, if that, to get the place ready. Never mind selling the idea to the girls. Surely it's not too late to call the whole thing off.

Heather's finishing breakfast when he returns. Linda doesn't ask how it went--she might have done, but he tells her everything before she's got the chance to. It's just Paul's luck that she needs only a few minutes of convincing to get on board with the idea. She could've vetoed it outright, saved them all a lot of trouble. But, funny enough, she says, she's been promising Heather a trip back to London, and they've an open invitation from Yoko if they should ever need a place to stay.

"You can manage the place all by yourself, right?" she asks with a smile. Before Paul can actually blow a fuse, she drops the act and kisses him, beckons him to join her in the chores that need to be done before tomorrow. Everyone's fed. Everyone who needs it and will stand still is washed. Everything that's started to dry up, or to rot, is cut and shoveled away, replaced with fresh and new.

It's not even noon.

Paul takes a quick dip in the washtub and cleans the house. All of the softening fruit from the kitchen goes into the trough with the table scraps. Flat surfaces are wiped down and swept. He's ready to organize the clothes in the wardrobe, but Linda and Heather are packing--striped pants everywhere--so he bins that idea. A spliff outside the bathroom window doesn't calm him, but it slows him down. He straightens the shoe rack. Finally, he sits down to write.

I look high / I look low / I'm lookin' everywhere I go / Looking for

Paul stares at the paper, twiddling his pen back and forth. Looking for what? There's the million-pound question again. The longer he glares at the mostly-blank page, the more he wants to feed it to the goats. So much for creation ex nihilo, he thinks. Three lines his eight-year-old daughter could've written, and no closer to knowing what it is he's looking for.

Eventually, he remembers to eat. He plays make-believe horses with Heather, bathes her, reads her a story. Sings to her. As soon as she's in bed, he can't keep his hands off Linda, for some reason. They kiss, share whispery breaths, and he kneels on the kitchen floor, lifting her patchwork skirt to bury his nose in corn-silk hair and eat her out against the sink. He's too wired, and too exhausted, for anything else.

---

The next day's not much easier.

"Give her my love, yeah?" Paul says as he kisses Linda a final time, and throws in a wink; you know I don't envy you. Heather waves and they're gone.

The problem is, John didn't say what time he'd come, and the pesky thing about tomorrow is that it consists of twenty-four circles of hell called hours, during any of which he might decide to turn up. Paul does all of the chores again, twice, just to be safe. When he starts feeling like he needs to run rings around the farmhouse, he picks up his guitar and writes. Looking for does not get a partner. But he gets the middle eight down, and it's not bad, either. The scatting can stand on its own; no need to conjure actual lyrics.

A distant, rolling crunch of gravel in the drive. John's here.

Paul darts to the window. A sleek black car, ridiculously out of place in the rugged landscape, is chugging along the dirt road, raising a terrible cloud of dust. It's John, all right--overdressed. On his way to the door, Paul ducks into the bedroom to fuss with his hair in the mirror--there, that's enough.

He hears a car door creak open and slam shut. Boot-heels crunch their way to the front step. Paul's heart leaps into his throat.

He opens the door.

John looks up, like he'd been studying the welcome mat. He's freshly shorn, a shorter haircut than Paul's seen on him in twenty years. His glasses are tinted yellow. He's wearing a smart jacket over an expensive-looking shirt, a fucking scarf, and even sharper slacks. His black boots gleam.

Paul laughs, and it doesn't even sound nervous. "Did you bring any other clothes?"

John raises his eyebrows and tightens his lips. "Left my gunnysack at home, actually." He can't keep his smile hidden.

In a fit of boldness that surprises even him, Paul throws his arms around John, knocking their chests together almost painfully. He holds on tight even as it makes it harder to breathe. John stalls for a second, winded and caught unawares, but he embraces Paul back. Wraps him in his long, long arms and pulls them together.

"Hey." Paul can barely get enough air out to shape the word. The hug is squeezing his lungs like a bagpipe. Any more pressure on his windpipe and he'd cough--his throat already itches like hell from his second time mucking out the stalls that morning.

John doesn't seem to notice. "Hi," he says, smoothly, with evident room enough to breathe.

They break apart before Paul suffocates. He blames the sudden dizzy feeling on a lack of oxygen. "Want to come in?"

John unwraps his scarf as he crosses the threshold, like there's any meaningful temperature difference between inside and outside. Like the flimsy thing was doing anything to keep him warm, anyhow. "Should I take me shoes off?"

"Doesn't matter. Our floors will probably deal more damage to your shoes than you can to do them."

John toes off his boots. Paul's eyes flit around the entrance, the main room, and the kitchen, looking for anything he might've missed. "How was the drive?" he asks.

"Un-fucking-believable. Do you know people keep sheep out here? Look out the left-hand side, sheep. Right-hand side, sheep. Crossin' the road in front of you for half an hour, sheep on sheep on fuckin' sheep. About did me fucking head in. You don't have any of them, do you?"

"Oh, no," Paul says, mock-serious, with a curt shake of his head. The guttural baaa of a ram can be heard just outside the kitchen window.

"Good. Be too bloody soon, if I never saw another one." John turns as he speaks, taking in the sights of the farm cottage. The herbs hung to dry, the hand-hewn table, the quilt on the sofa. Paul considers them from an outsider's point of view, and he feels at once self-conscious and proud. It's kitsch, but it's, well, home. "This is cozy," John remarks, which doesn't clarify whether he appreciates it or hates it.

"Keeps us dry when it rains," Paul says, and does his best not to press.

John turns back to Paul. "What's there to do around here?"

"Have you eaten?"

John shakes his head. "Starving."

Paul spins around with a smile. As he makes his way to the fridge, John adds, "Why? Gonna kill the fatted calf?"

"We don't keep cows." Paul emerges from the fridge with the picnic hamper and a naked grin. It's so well-packed that the bottles of milk don't even clink as he lifts the basket, his eyebrows high with hope.

"Oh, do let's," John twitters, airy and delicate like a fine lady, tossing his head and batting his lashes with a dead expression. The mockery arrives a bit flat when his head-toss nearly launches his glasses off his nose, and he has to quickly push them back up.

Paul doesn't back down from the dig, either. If John wants to be an Edwardian gentle lady, he'll hear no complaints from Paul. He crooks his elbow, offering it out to John. John takes it--in those boots, he's almost-almost a little bit taller--and they stroll out the Dutch door.

They don't get to play Mary Poppins for long. A few steps out, Paul concedes that he needs both hands to support the basket. John storms off ahead, pretending great offense that Paul doesn't want to hold his hand anymore. It's minutes later before John realizes he might not be the best candidate to walk in front, as he doesn't know where they're going.

"It's not far," Paul says. "You can see the meadow, just ahead."

John manages not to get lost, but their journey is delayed several times when he needs to stop and pick something out of his sock. The spear-head seeds of the wild grasses lodge themselves in his expensive clothes, adorn his pant legs, fill his shoes.

"Ow!--God damn it," John snaps. For the ninth time, he stands on one foot and wobbles dangerously as he attempts to rid the other one of stickers.

"Just wait until we get there and get them all out then," says Paul. "You're only going to get more anyway. It's just over this hill."

He's underselling it a bit. The hill in question is deceptively steep; it might be the highest point on the otherwise uniform moors. John gripes about the trek and the burrs, Paul smugly advises him to dress for the environment next time, but soon, they're both panting too hard to jeer at each other.

It's starting to worry Paul, actually, how hard he's breathing. Not just the reminder that he's no spring chicken and should probably smoke less than he does, but now every lungful is starting to burn. Every inhale makes his head feel thick and fuzzy with a deep, flowery itch. This isn't good. He thought--he wanted to be certain that it was too early in the year for everything to be germinating, but alas, it is. The air is earthy and sweet with pollen, and fuck if John isn't kicking up more and more with every stomp, just in time for Paul to walk through its wake.

This isn't fair, Paul thinks. He's usually got more warning than this. Enough to plan around it. The hay didn't bother him at all this morning, not even on the second pass through the stalls, when the dust made his throat sting. Apparently, that doesn't mean he's in the clear. Though alfalfa hay isn't always the best litmus test--sometimes it gets to him, sometimes it doesn't. The wild grasses, on the other hand? Always. Just not this bloody early in the season, he thinks as his eyes start to water.

He could walk ahead of John, he supposes, get less of it kicked up his nose. But back here, he's got the distinct advantage of discretion. He can paw and scrub at his twitching nose all he wants (and then some more, when the itch immediately returns) without attracting attention. It's a pain, a real Sisyphean drag, but it's not more than he can manage.

Paul feels the first sneeze coming a mile away. A tingling that starts in the back of his nose and creeps up, spreads out, little by little. It feels too small, at first, for anything to come of it (Paul wonders if it'll be one of those that just teases him for a few hours), but it builds until it's bigger than his head. Before he can gasp in too much air, he seals his lips, holds his breath...but it doesn't matter, he can't stop it--

"hdt--!"

He has to clamp a thumb and finger around his nose to hold it in, squelch it down to nothing. The awful pounding feeling in his sinuses that results is almost enough to make him regret it, but what's the alternative? John's attention should be on the landscape, not on...shit, there's another one... "hdt--mph!" It feels like he's imploding, but he shakes his head free and tries to catch his breath. One sniffle against his sleeve, then he should be all right for a while.

Paul's so preoccupied and bleary-eyed, he nearly bowls into John, who's stopped at the top of the hill.

"Woodie Guthrie, eh?" John asks, hands on his hips, gazing out at the land, and Paul has to admit, it does look like the American prairie.

"Mm," Paul nods, blinking, pursing his lips together, just in case.

It's only a few steps down to the meadow, where it's flat enough to lay out the-- "Shit!" Paul suddenly spits, so quick and percussive it almost scratches the itch for a moment. Just fucking typical.

"What?"

"I've forgotten the picnic blanket." Paul hears, as soon as he says it, that he sounds like an A. A. Milne character; Oh, bother. But what are they meant to do--sit in the grass?

Without a second thought, John does just that, stretching out on his back like it's carpet (and not, for example, a blanket of weeds that practically trembles to cover them both in seeds and pollen). "The water's warm," he offers, swirling his arms and making the grasses ripple.

Paul tries not to shiver as he sits cross-legged on the ground. At least he remembered the picnic lunch; he spent half the morning cobbling it together. Cheese, berries, honey, cucumber sandwiches, tomato sandwiches, scones with jam. Milk and a small flagon of wine. (A lovely set of checkered napkins, too--Paul sequesters one away in his pocket, just in case worst should come to worst.)

"Is that your place?" John points at the valley below them.

Paul squints, then nods. "Yeah." His farmhouse is storybook-sized from where they're sitting. They've come a long way.

"How many acres is it?"

"We've--" Paul's about to answer, but his eyes flood and his breath skips. It comes up on him so fast down here, at nose level with the grass, that he scarcely has time to duck sideways against his wrist and catch two more sneezes he can't quite suppress. "Two hundred," he quickly breathes, before he's quite out of the grip of the second one. His face burns--some of it's allergic flush, some of it's the hike, but either way, he doesn't look at John.

"Bless you."

Paul doesn't know why it's so unexpected. But the shock of hearing John say it is enough to scare off a third sneeze that's fighting its way out. So casual, unconcerned. Paul rubs his nose, trying to soothe the burning, pulsing ache left behind when the sneeze retreated. John, mercifully, leaves it at that, and they eat.

"I just don't get it."

It's John who breaks the silence, which Paul is grateful for, but it strikes him dumb. He casts a puzzled look at John, who clarifies, "Why would you want to live out here?"

"What?" Paul knows he's talking on borrowed time, so he gets to the point. "It's beautiful. What d'you mean, why?"

"To look at, sure, but..." John takes off his glasses and folds them in the basket. "What do you do, day by day, month after month?"

"I..." Paul has to press a fist under his nose just to keep the breath in his lungs. It's a temporary fix, a finger in the dam, but as soon as he's able, he huffs, "There's a lot that goes into running a farm, you know."

"But why do it? What for? What was the point of getting rich and famous if you're just gonna live like it's the bloody nineteenth century--"

"Is that why you did it?" Paul coughs. Sniffs. "To get rich and famous?"

"That's why we did it. Or at least, that's what you told me, every day for ten years. If I'd known this was what you meant by 'the toppermost of the--'"

"I did-...Sorry..." Paul can't get two words of his interruption out before the need to sneeze nearly blinds him, and he has to twist away and grab his nose. He pitches forward three times, small and sharp, too quick in succession to breathe in between. As he straightens, catching his breath at last, he considers that he could probably keep it down to one at a time if he didn't try to hold them in. But really, there's only so much humiliation he can take. "God," he rasps, shaking his head. "That's...sorry."

"Bless you," says John, plowing right through the threshold. "You all right?"

"Fine. I just..." Paul closes his eyes briefly. He runs the edge of a finger under his nose, a quick swipe to keep it dry. "Well, I did it because I loved writing songs. I couldn't do anything else."

John doesn't push back on that--how could he? It's as true for him as it is for Paul, so it's back to knocking the farm. "There's nothing out here," he says.

"My family's out here."

"Your family's all over." John's voice drops slightly, like he's started to check out of the conversation. Only occasionally does he look at Paul. "There's real life happening out there, you know, in cities. Art and culture. There's a war on, as well, right now."

Paul's skin crawls. It's sweat from the heat of the day, it's everything John's saying, but this godforsaken grass... He rubs at his wrists, his neck, trying not to dig his nails in. He itches.

John doesn't notice, or he doesn't care. "But it's happening out there, not here. Sure, raise your family, raise a couple of goats. Raise a giraffe for all I care. But at what point do you pull your head out of the sand--"

"This was supposed to be perfect." Paul spits it out, half-laughing. This is just too absurd. It's too stupid. "I had it all planned out. Can you believe that?" John's gone quiet, but Paul can't seem to shut up. "I was going to bring you out here, and I wouldn't have to explain anything, you'd just...you'd just--" Paul gasps like he's drowning and lets out a shuddering sneeze into his fist. It's so unsatisfying he could cry. The first of many to come, and doesn't that just fucking figure? Bloody perfect. He might as well keep babbling and make a proper ass of himself. "You'd just see it, and you'd get it, I don't know, the--hh'chhew!" Across the back of his hand.

"Paul."

"The house, the animals..." Paul's trying to talk through the wrist he's jammed over his top lip, which is starting to feel like it's for nothing. "The land, th--hh-!...'Ttchhoo! God, the fresh fucking air..." He rises clumsily to his feet, trying to put a little distance between his head and the fresh air in question, just in time to whip around and muffle a violent sneeze with the cuff of his sleeve. With an exasperated huff, Paul goes digging for the checked napkin. He has to laugh once more as he folds it over his nose. It's just...sad. "Sorry. Bloody hell. This was going to be nice."

"I don't mind," John says earnestly. Paul makes a noise of dismissal, so John appends, "Paul, look at me."

Over the tent of red-and-white cloth, Paul looks.

John's face is soft and open. At the edges, maybe a bit pink from the hike and the sun. There's not a hint of derision. "I don't mind. I don't."

Paul casts his eyes down and turns away. "Thanks," he mutters, before drawing a tentative breath and blowing his nose. Straight away, a cool rush of relief--but only temporary, he knows. As soon as he starts to breathe again, the time bomb begins to tick.

John waits patiently for Paul to turn back around before he asks, "Hayfever?"

"...Yeah." Paul's cheeks lift as he tries to squash a mortified smile. "Well, but it's. Not hay that does it." Usually.

"Bloody well hope not. You might be in the wrong line for that, mate." John plucks a wildflower from the grass, tall and straight with a stiff violet plume. "What about them?"

"Um. Not too bad." Bit by bit, Paul's smile twists into something resembling laughter. "It's mostly the grass, I think. The weeds."

"Hmm." John brings it close and sniffs, blinks curiously, then leans in for another sniff. His face is solemn as stone.

For a moment, Paul feels bold. "Not givin' you any trouble, is it?"

John shakes his head. "I don't get hayfever anymore. 'M cured."

"What?"

"I get a jab once a month." John taps his left shoulder. "Yoko knows a fella, a doctor. Used to be every week, at first, could hardly stand it. But it's done wonders for me voice." John gives the wildflower one more sniff and shrugs, raises his eyebrows. Nada.

Paul gives a snorting scoff, and pays for it with a short spell of coughing. "Sounds nice. I'll take your word for it."

"Nah. I miss it." To Paul's heart-stopping surprise, John inverts the flower, pokes the end of the stem into his nostril, and swirls it around.

Paul's eyes widen. "What're you--"

"ahhh..." John's mouth lolls open, drinking air. His head tips back, his nose wrinkles, and he sneezes, hard enough to shake his whole body. "hh'ESCHhiew!"

Even with ample warning, Paul jumps very slightly. How pathetic is it that his heart's thumping double-time now? Only, he supposes, it's been a while. He wants to say something--call him an idiot, give him the full rites of the Catholic Church. All he can do is laugh.

John groans lightly. Once he's recovered enough to acknowledge his audience, he throws Paul a wink. "For auld lang syne." He tosses the flower, and it disappears into the grass.

Paul's not sure if that's quite what Rabbie Burns had in mind. He opens his mouth to tell John as much (in a Scots accent, to boot), but what comes out is: "I've missed you." His eyes itch and fill with tears--it's the pollen.

"Yeah, I heard." John's face stiffens as he hears himself say it, like he didn't mean to be so flippant. By way of an apology, he offers Paul a sandwich, saving him from sitting down again, and Paul accepts it. "I wish...It's silly, but I wish we could...All right, there?"

The itch that's been toying with Paul finally blossoms, and he jolts into the hand that's not holding a sandwich. "hh'nkxtch!"

John chuckles softly, in the most non-derisive way possible, blesses him, and announces that they're heading back now. Paul can only snuffle and gather up the basket.

---

"That head-in-the-sand bit, I didn't mean that."

John starts rehashing the argument when they've made it back to the farmhouse in once piece--which was no guarantee. Paul doesn't slow down, never mind stop sneezing until he's had a wash, changed his clothes, and flushed out his head with warm water. John did, in fact, bring different clothes, each outfit more extravagant and ill-suited to farm life than the last. But he changes too, resolves to burn his sticker-laden socks. It's only once tea is served that he revisits the matter of Paul's farm.

"I don't think you're hiding," he says, "whatever this is. But I don't know why you're so married to this place, if that's not true."

"Why do you care?" Paul sets his cup down. "It's not your life, is it?"

"Evidently not." There's a little venom to it.

"John." Paul does the opposite, drops his voice to his head register, retracts his claws. "Why are we doing this? I can't come back to London."

John looks down with a tight, joyless smile. "I can kid myself, can't I?"

"Look, it's--" Paul lifts up his hands. "Think what you want of me, but my home's here."

John's quiet. It tears Paul up, but there's a sense of relief that comes with it, too; if he were going to say something biting, something really unforgivable, it would've slipped out without a pause. He's quick like that. Paul doesn't know how he ever endured it. He can't see how he'll live without it.

"I miss it, too," John says.

Paul feels caught. Struck. They're having two different conversations and still managed to run into one another, in a clatter of heads and a tangle of limbs. It's a dead end. A corner.

This isn't what Paul invited him for.

Paul swigs his tea and marches into the bedroom. He returns with a cotton shirt, a pair of dungarees, and a battered pair of socks. "Put these on," Paul orders before John can ask, and dumps the bundle of clothes on his lap.

"Are you kicking me out?" John calls over his shoulder, but Paul's already in the bathroom. He returns with an antihistamine pill--pink, horse-sized, the kind that may as well be a sedative--and swallows it with the rest of his tea.

"In half an hour, this'll kick in," Paul explains. "And then I'm going to teach you how to ride a horse." He turns around as John's face is morphing from puzzlement to glee, hoping he'll change his clothes if given the privacy of the living room.

"Can you show me that song?" John pipes. The one you said I'd hate.

Paul bites his lip and goes off in search of his guitar.

[saanphoenix]

Zenos' "hunt" ended in Stormblood, in my opinion, because he found the WoL. The WoL was "the beast I've longed to face." And WHY he wanted to face such a beast was because he wanted the thrill of pushing himself to his limits again. He hunted and chased that feeling through countless opponents until he found you. And then, when he assumed he could never capture that feeling again, he tried to stop existing.

...Except his "fake" Echo brought him back, lawl whoops, and so he was like, "Guess I'll hunt that feeling via my friend again." Like. YOU are his hunt in Shadowbringers and he, like he says, is always a step behind because you are off in another fucking reality trying to save the world and he's like, "Welp. Hope you're having epic battles and growing stronger, bestie u3u ❤️. ...I want my body back, though, so... Hey, Father~"

And here's the kicker. On the quest to get to his Father, he learns that his father wants to use a cheap tactic to kill the main driving force of his life. And we already know Zenos can't stand cowards who refuse to look into the whites of their enemy's eyes. So, like. Any and all who interfere with his hunt will not do so twice. So, yeah. Dad got got for WoL.

And then, as pointed out, he waits. He wants to relive a certain moment. He thinks that the WoL probably finds him weaker now that they've been beaten up other enemies elsewhere. But if he and the WoL consume the gods then it might be a fun time! And so on and so forth.

Everything Zenos is doing after the initial Stormblood fight is because he has felt kinship with you--even if you don't feel it for him--and he wants to test you in all the ways he's been tested in his life because, bless his heart, he thinks you're into that. And also, because you are a "hero" he thinks he's gotta do shit that will make a "hero" hunt HIM for sport.

Heroes save the world. So he's gotta help Fandaniel threaten it so that you will come at him with everything you got. This is job security for you, hero. This is his gift to you.

But also, hey, you're distracted with a bigger threat later, and that bums him out, but he'll wait for you to get done. Because, now, he is no longer hunting you, he is hungering for you. He is longing for you. And your climatic clash.

[thebisexualdogdad]

Hello! Could you make a Sam x reader where the members of cobra kai beat up the reader and go to Sam's house to heal his wounds with a happy ending thanks :) ❤

"Look at him, what a little bitch," Kyler scoffs, giving you one last kick to the guts. 

You're lying on the ground, beaten and bloody after some of the cobra kai's had jumped you on your way home from work. 

"Ease up, he got the message," Robby says pulling Brucks off of you who followed Kylers lead in kicking you again. 

"It's a shame to mess up such a pretty face," Tory grins. 

"If we're lucky he'll have a few broken ribs and can't compete in the tournament next month," Kyler laughs. 

"No matter what dirty tricks you play we are still going to win," you say, spitting out some blood. 

"Come on let's go," Robby states and they leave you there curled up in pain. 

You somehow are able to stand up, grabbing your bike which you know you wouldn't be able to ride but instead walk it to the Larusso's house which is thankfully only a few blocks away. 

Arriving at their home you drop your bike on the lawn and hobble to the front door. 

Anthony is the one who answers, "Holy shit dude what happened to you?"

"Anthony language," Amanda says approaching the door and thats when she sees you, "Oh my god Y/N! Sam! Daniel! Get in here!"

Sam comes rushing down the stairs at the sound of urgency in her mother's voice and Daniel comes in from the dojo. 

"Y/N? What happened?" Sam says cupping your face and you wince in pain. 

"Cobra Kai happened," you tell them.

"Daniel this is going way too far," Amanda says, guiding you to the kitchen to get you cleaned up. 

"I'm going to go talk to Krease," Daniel states. 

"Mr Larusso we all know that will only make things worse," you reply, struggling to sit in the chair Sam pulled out for you. 

"Dad we just have to train harder and make sure we beat them in the tournament," Sam says.

"Here you go Y/N," Amanda says handing you an ice pack. 

Sam has a rag and is wiping the blood off you.

"Maybe we should take you to the hospital," Daniel suggests. 

"I'm okay, I just didn't want to go home and my mom find me like this," you tell them. 

"I still have to call your mom and tell her what happened," Amanda clarifies. 

"I understand Mrs Larusso." 

"Come on Daniel, you need to tell Johnny so he can warn his kids," she states.

"That's a good idea," Daniel agrees.

Now it's just you and Sam alone in the kitchen.

"Are you sure you don't want to go see a doctor?" She asks. 

"Really Sam I'm good," you say as she puts a bandaid over a gash on your cheek.

"We're gonna get them back," Sam huffs. 

"We can't stoop to their level, we just have to wait until the tournament and kick their asses the right way," you say.

"I can't believe they did this to you, I can't believe Robby did this to you," she sighs. 

"When we win the tournament Cobra Kai will be shut down for good and all of this will be over," you assure her. 

"Will it though? Will this ever really be over?" 

"Whatever happens we got each other and that's what matters right?" You smile. 

"Yeah, yeah it is," she says, kissing you gently. 

[mrsharrington83]

Never Ending Story

Summary; Y/N and Steve are in the back of the car beat up and bruised when Dustin, Y/N's half brother finally gets the code. (There is a whole lot more to it than that. I just really suck at summaries :D also, sorry for any typos)

"Jesus Steve." The sight of your badly beaten boyfriend made your heart hurt, true. You weren't looking much better. The evident worry on Steve's face as he gently rubbed his thumb against your bruising cheek.

"I can't believe they did this to you." He cradled you in his arms. Where you felt the safest,

"I really thought we were toast back there." You sighed, nestling your face into the crook of Steve's neck.

"Me too."

You closed your eyes, forgetting everything around you before Dustin spoke up.

"Um. Guys..."

Bringing you back to your senses, you stepped away from Steve as you both followed Dustin's gaze to the Starcourt mall.

"Shit!" Dustin ran back to his radio waiting no time, "Griswold family, this is Scoops Troop! Do you copy? Over!"

You all sat on the grass waiting. Hoping for an answer, wishing your friends were okay.

"Griswold family, I repeat, this is Scoops Troop, do you-"

A loud shriek took over the radio as you all looked at each other.

"Fuck!" Robin rubbed her face as Dustin doesn’t give in. Steve kissed the corner of your forehead before standing up, sprinting down the hillside,

"Where are you going?!" Erica bellowed after Steve,

"To get them the hell out of there! Stay here. Contact the others."

You're next to get onto your feet, running after Steve, but not before your younger brother called after you.

"Wait! Y/N! Stay in touch" he smiles a weak smile as he tossed you a radio, "don't die, please. I love you."

"I love you too, Dusty. See you soon hopefully." You gripped hold of the small radio as you carried on running. You weren't the fastest, but your legs didn't fail you as you caught up with Steve,

"Y/N. No." he was serious, he’d almost lost you once today in the interrogations.

"No time to argue, Steve. Let's go." He rubbed his bruised face and sighed, nodding. Of course you were going to go with him. He couldn’t stop you.

The run to the car was tiring, but you both didn’t stop. Your friends were in danger and having done things like this several times before, you knew it was a matter of life and death. Scrambling into the car, Steve started it up in silence as you caught your breath.

“Y/N.” Steve’s voice was low, laced with worry and tiredness. You were both running off adrenaline now. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” You wiped your nose that had started bleeding again, just hoping it wasn’t broken after the Russians did a number on you both.

“I swear.” Steve spoke up, “If we get out of this alive, Henderson. We ae going to have a very quiet date night.”

You chuckled lightly as Starcourt got more visible. “Agreed.” Your eyes didn’t leave Steve as he carried on driving, his knuckles white with the grip he had on the steering wheel.

“Fuck. Make sure your belt is on.” You looked in front of you, Nancy was firing a gun at another car, realising what Steve was about to do as he put his foot down.

“Oh my god!” you braced for impact as you closed your eyes, your heart hammering in your chest. It was quick, but definitely not painless as your whole body collided with your belt, pain rapidly coursing through your chest as your head flung forward, your hair covering your face, your brain feeling like it was rattling around in your skull making you dizzy. Steve turned to look at you, his own hair bouncing from impact,

“Are you okay?” you were both alive and that’s all that mattered.

“Ask me tomorrow?” you undone your belt as your hands shook, both of you pulling yourself up to see the Mind Flayer climbing over the roof.

“GET IN!” Nancy screamed, you didn’t need to be told twice as you pushed yourself out of the car, Steve making sure you got into the back of the car first, following close behind, your legs feeling like jelly as he slammed the door shut, pulling you into his arms. He gripped hold of you, keeping you close to his chest. You could feel his heart thumping as hard as your own.

“If only that thing could slow down.” You muttered to yourself as Steve gave you a firm squeeze, his eyes not leaving the monster.

“Dusty-bun, you copy?” you looked at the radio you had managed to keep hold of. How? you had no idea.

“I copy, Suzi-poo. I hear you much better now, thanks.”

You shuffled away from Steve and looked at him in shock, “Suzie.”

“Okay, so, listen. Do you know Planck’s constant?” Dustin spoke up, your eyes still glued to the small radio in your lap, you looked at Steve puzzled, as your brother and his girlfriend continued their conversation,

“She’s real?” Steve perked up a little, a proud smile on his face. Even at a time like this. He really was the best babysitter and he loved those kids, even your dorky little brother.

Dustin continued as you looked to the radio.

“I promise I will make it up to you as soon as possible.”

“You can make it up to me now.”

Suzie sounded sweet, but this wasn’t the time,

“What?”

“I want to hear it.” You could hear the smirk in her voice.

There was a pause before Dustin continued,

“Suzie, this is urgent.”

Your brother was trying, you knew he was,

“Yes, you’re saving the world. I heard you the first time.”

The radio was static,

“So this is Suzie, signing off.”

You bit your lip,

“Wait, wait. Wait. Okay.”

You were confused, you were all confused as to what just happened and what was going to happen, this car wouldn’t drive forever and you were seriously running out of time.

Turn around, look at what you see

Steve was baffled as blood slightly dripped from the side of his head, the Mind Flayer catching up to the car.

In her face, the mirror of your dreams.

“Right that’s it. We’re going to die.” Steve spoke up, almost sarcastically.

Make believe I’m everywhere, hidden in the lines

You laughed as everyone looked at you, your brother still singing on air with his girlfriend.

Written on the pages is the answer to a never ending story.

“Is he actually serious right now?” Steve was now looking at the radio, still as puzzled as ever as you gently kicked his shoe.

“Hey. You are his babysitter. You sure this wasn’t one of you doings?”

Steve smiled and shook his head, it wasn’t the time for making silly jokes, but you always could make him feel better, even in grave moments like this.

“Reach the stars, fly a fantasy.” Steve looked at you now, almost saying what the fuck are you doing with just his facial features,

“Come on Steve.” You smiled, even though you were scared, even though there was a possibility of you not seeing another day, “we might die, sing with me.”

He huffed and shook his head, his hair dishevelled, “What do you do to me, Y/N.” He took your hands in his, lightly rubbing his thumbs over the back of your hands, your boyfriend finally joining in with you.

Dream a dream, and what you see will be. Rhymes that keep their secrets will unfold behind the clouds

“Not you two as well. Jesus Christ. Give me strength.” Will put his head in his hands as Lucas seemed somewhat amused. Nancy and Johnathan in the front of the car laughing.

And there upon a rainbow is the answer to a never ending story. Story.

Suddenly the singing stopped as Suzie gave Dustin the code. A sigh of relief from everyone in the car

“You just saved the world.” Dustin also sounded relieved and somewhat happy, given the circumstances.

“You must really love me, joining in with me and that.” You looked to Steve who was smiling, laughing under his breath,

“Have you only just figured that out? I adore you, Y/N.” You leaped into his arms and kissed over his face,

“Whoa, wait. It’s turning around?” the Mind Flayer had changed directions,

“Maybe we wore it out?” Lucas said unconvinced,

“I doubt it.” Johnathan looked into the mirror. “Hold on.”

You fell into Steve’s lap as the car turned harshly, Steve hardly holding on himself as his side hit the door of the car, “More bruises.”

“I’ll nurse you back to health.” Steve smirked at you as Johnathan gained control of the car once more,

“Not the place lovebirds.” Nancy shook her head smiling.

Three months later

"Can you believe it?! Mum away for months on business. We have the whole house to ourselves" Dustin burst into the living room, "Can't believe she trusts you to look after me. I am a handful."

"Don't we know it." Steve butted in, bringing in a bowl of popcorn, "So. What movie are we all watching?"

Your mum had let Steve move in which was insane, your mum always did have a soft spot for him, she'd always tell you Steve was the one for you. She knew he'd take care of the both of you whilst she was away. She knew you'd all take care of each other and with you and Steve both working for Family Video, she knew you could be trusted. You'd grown into a fine young woman. 

"I'm not sure." Dustin grabbed a handful of popcorn before jumping over you to sit on the sofa.

"I know the perfect movie." Steve grinned as you watched him get up, "How about... The NeverEnding Story?"

Dustin slammed his head into the back on the sofa huffing, "can you two fucking stop with that now?!"

"Turn around, look at what you see. in her face, the mirror of your dreams." you stood up and spun around with your arms out, as Steve joined in, "make believe I'm everywhere. I'm hidden in the lines. written on the pages, is the answer to a never ending story."

"Right, that's it. I'm going out." Dustin grabbed his cap and coat before pulling his shoes on.

"Hey, Dusty." you stopped singing and watched him as he opened the door, "Love you."

"yeah, yeah. Love you too." he closed the door behind him as you looked to Steve.

"so." he started, "we have the house to ourselves now, you wanna?" he looked to the stairs as you grinned and sprinted off up the stairs with him following after you.