#honestly the escalation hit me like a truck

[englishmagic]

Hurrayyy I’m experiencing my first full blown uti 🥳

Absolutely not fun. It’s like, mild discomfort, mild discomfort, nothing, significant discomfort, mild discomfort, nothing, nothing, DEBILITATING PAIN AND NAUSEA

[bylersecretsanta2023]

from @marshmallo824, to @dont-open-dead-inside-25

what are you doing new year's eve?

“Uh, no, Max, that’s actually not your best move. My pawn isn’t even close to your home base!”

There are only a couple more hours until 1989, and it looks like Mike Wheeler will be ringing in the New Year with copious amounts of vexation. It’s been a rough night for him, competitively speaking: he was first to go bankrupt in Monopoly, failed to break 200 in Yahtzee, and ended up with approximately half the deck by the end of Uno. 

Now, he’s red in the face and fuming over a particularly tense game of Sorry! – Max (the strategist of the operation, getting Lucas to actually move her pieces) has just knocked Mike’s last pawn back to Start. Dustin has a clear lead, though Max-and-Lucas are starting to catch up.

Will was supposed to be teaming with El, but he’s barely paying attention. Mike looks far too good tonight in a soft maroon sweater and black jeans, even if his facial expression is slightly…constipated. Sue him if he’s distracted, honestly. The Mike Wheeler Obsession™ that has sort of characterized all of Will’s teenage years certainly is following him into 1989. 

It also doesn’t help that the taller boy finally gave in to his mother’s complaints and got a haircut last week. The nostalgia had hit Will like a semi-truck when he’d first seen it – with shorter hair, he looks shockingly like he did when they were in eighth grade and Mike had been the only tolerable part of that fall’s flayed-and-fucked-up fever dream. 

“Do you like it?” Mike had asked quietly, maybe a little nervously.

Will frantically nodded, because the only words his mouth was capable of replying with were I love you I love you I love you Will you stay with me forever? and he was pretty sure that wouldn’t be the response Mike was hoping for.

In holding his tongue, Will was thoroughly rewarded with a bashful but earnest smile from Mike. “I guess I was kinda worried it would look a little stupid.”

“Not possible. You look great,” he blurted out, completely negating his success from mere seconds earlier. “I mean, it suits you.” It wasn’t the world’s best amendment, but it seemed to be enough.

“Hey, thanks, man. I mean it.” Will watched Mike tuck a strand of hair behind his ear, maybe out of habit, but it simply drifted back towards his face due to its new length. 

“It’s the most wonderful time of the year, Wheeler.” Max is grinning, which only seems to irritate Mike further. “Where’s the joy in your heart?”

“I’d be a lot more joyous if you’d play the fuckin’ game right, Mayfield. Dustin is gonna kick all our asses but for some reason you’d rather go after the guy with one pawn on the board? You’re insane, you know that? What a shitty strategy.”

Things escalate further from there, and rather quickly. Max is laughing as Lucas defends her, entering a vicious back-and-forth with Mike, while Dustin’s gaze darts excitedly between them like he’s at goddamn Wimbledon. El is explaining the scene to Max, and that only makes both girls laugh harder. Upon seeing this, Mike gets ramped up even more. As soon as he opens his mouth, Will can tell the other boy’s about to say something he’s really going to regret, so he puts a gentle hand on Mike’s shoulder, hoping it’ll slow his roll for even a second.

It works with almost disturbing efficacy. Mike’s teeth clack together audibly as he shuts his mouth, and he swivels to Will, suddenly and almost completely disengaged from the previous argument (if not for the exasperated furrow of his eyebrows and the exaggerated heaving of his chest). 

“Hey, you wanna take a break for a bit?” he finds himself saying, not letting go of Mike’s shoulder just yet. Mike, to his credit, nods sheepishly and stands. In the typical fashion of the Party, their other friends have already moved on, fully engaged in the remaining part of the game. El quirks her head at Will, eyeing Mike inconspicuously. 

You’ll take care of him?

I always do. I hope you win for us.

El grins at him, eyes glinting mischievously. I always do.

“I’m still not convinced you guys didn’t actually share a womb,” Dustin asserts, but Will’s already standing and following Mike out of the basement, leaving El to decide how to handle the biological twin allegations.

Upstairs, the Wheelers’ New Year’s Eve party is in full swing. The lilt of sociable adult laughter and the drone of the television drift through warmly-lit and stately rooms. Mike still looks wound-up, and maybe even a little discouraged. Will’s not having it, and he gets on his tiptoes to reach Mike’s ear.

“Follow my lead,” he whispers, and tugs a visibly confused Mike into the living room, where Mr. Wheeler looks about five minutes away from sleeping through the New Year altogether. There’s an empty champagne glass in his hand.

“Happy New Year, Mr. Wheeler,” Will beams, offering the man the firmest handshake he can muster. 

“William, it’s good to see you,” Ted drawls, eyes already drooping with exhaustion. “Could you take this glass to my wife in the kitchen?”

“Sure, should I ask her to refill it?”

He waves a hand dismissively and leans back further in the La-Z-Boy. “Don’t think I could have another. You’re a good young man, you hear that? Maybe it’s not too late for you to rub off on Michael. He could stand to have some more manners.”

“Dad, I’m right here,” Mike sighs. Normally, it’d be pretty funny, but he’s already stressed enough as it is, and Will can hear the strain in his voice from keeping it together. Ted blinks lazily and turns his head, nodding at his son.

“Excellent,” he murmurs, and dozes off. Mike rolls his eyes and takes the glass out of his dad’s hands. As the two make their way to the kitchen, which is currently heavily packed with mothers, Will deftly takes it out of his hands. Karen Wheeler is currently engaged in conversation with Claudia Henderson. They both seem to be walking the fine line between wine-drunk and…wine-plastered. Score.

“Mrs. Wheeler? Mr. Wheeler asked me to bring this to you.”

Karen doesn’t even ask, just automatically fetches the bottle of champagne. “I expected that,” she murmurs with a conspiratorial wink. “Every year, Ted makes his way to his last glass by ten o’clock sharp.”

The clock reads 11:37, but Will doesn’t point this out.

“Are you boys having a nice time?” Mrs. Henderson asks, almost as if she’s just realized they’re here. Mike nods quickly, but Will’s going for his Academy Award. He schools his face into a concerned but polite frown.

“You know how kids can be,” he sighs, a little wistful. Karen finishes (rather generously) filling the glass and perks up at this, maternal instincts kicking into gear despite the effects of her revelry.

She seems to notice something in Mike’s expression and reaches up to hold his face with her hands. Mike shoots a panicked look at Will, which shifts to annoyance upon receiving Will’s shit-eating grin.

“They take advantage of his enthusiasm, Mrs. Wheeler,” Will laments, overselling it just because he knows he can. “He’s just too earnest for this cruel and unfeeling world.”

Karen clicks her tongue sadly. “How perceptive! You know, I’ve always said that, Will.” She wraps Mike in a tight hug. “Oh, my bright boy. Never let them put your flame out.”

“Okay, Mom,” Mike placates, awkwardly wrenching himself out of her grasp. 

“Nice to see you, Mrs. Wheeler,” Will beams, and she’s too moved by Whatever Just Happened to take notice of him dragging Mike up the stairs instead of back into the living room.

They quietly slip into Mike's bedroom and shut the door, entirely unnoticed.

“I can’t believe you stole champagne from my mom, dude,” Mike remarks, amazement clear in his tone. Will flushes with embarrassment and maybe even pride.

“I didn’t steal it, Mike. She gave it to us, remember? Besides, it’s only one glass.” He hands said glass to Mike. “It’s not like I snagged us the whole bottle.”

Mike wastes no time in taking his first sip. Pathetically, Will thinks he could get drunk just off of the way Mike’s throat bobs as he swallows the golden liquid. Without needing words, the two sit side by side on Mike’s bed; Mike passes the glass back over, and Will holds it carefully. He rotates it, aiming for a casual movement, until the part Mike’s mouth has touched is furthest from him. He drinks – it’s fruity, but clearly not strong. The scandal of it all is probably more exciting than actually getting drunk tonight, anyhow.

“Do you think I have cooties or something?” Mike asks, and Will turns to meet his eyes. 

“Um. No?”

Mike considers this. “Do you have cooties or something?” 

Will shakes his head, a little amused, but mostly baffled. Mike chuckles, but he sounds slightly exasperated. When they exchange the glass once more, Mike doesn’t turn the glass, drinking from the exact place as Will had. He shoots a lopsided grin at Will. “If you give me mono, I’m gonna be pissed off.”

Will giggles, taken aback. “Hey, you can’t say I didn’t try.”

One glass of champagne later, and they’re both nowhere near drunk, but Mike seems a hell of a lot calmer than he had been before they got up to his room. He hasn’t stopped smiling since his fourth sip, and Will swears he’s somehow inched closer every time they passed the glass between them.

“Hey, you wanna hear something?” Mike asks, but he’s already getting off the bed and crossing to the other side of the room, so Will doesn’t bother replying. When he comes back around, he’s holding his acoustic guitar. It’s something Mike could barely bring himself to touch after Eddie, but he’s coming around to it again. Will’s embarrassingly endeared at the sight of the instrument in his lovely hands, wishing for one idiotic and deranged moment that Mike could hold him with that amount of tenderness and care. 

What follows is maybe the most enthralling rendition of “Auld Lang Syne” that Will has ever heard. Sure, not every chord is spot-on (particularly when he’ll accidentally catch on a string that isn’t meant to be used), but Mike’s voice is so raspy and beautiful, and his eyes are narrowed with intense concentration. When he’s done, Mike sets the guitar aside and meets Will’s gaze, smiling sheepishly.

“It needs some practice, I know, but I only started learning it after Christmas, so I didn’t really have –”

“I like you.”

It slips out entirely without his permission. “I mean,” he immediately backtracks, “I mean, I thought you did great. Seriously, nice job, man.” The casual form of address feels clunky in his mouth, but he’s desperate to cast off as much suspicion as possible. Maybe Mike will let it go?

“You like me?” 

When the two of them were younger, maybe in fourth or fifth grade, they’d both gone through a Greek mythology phase. As a result, Will’s well-versed with the concept of the tragic heroes and their fatal flaws – like hubris, or what have you. Mike’s fatal flaw is his persistence. Of course he wasn’t going to let it go; the ability to do something like that isn’t even in his skillset. 

And Will – Will’s fatal flaw is that he’s a really fucking bad liar.

“Yeah, I do. I have for a while. I’m sorry.”

Mike’s silent for a while, eyes wide and vulnerable as they search every corner of Will’s face. He blinks a few times, mouth hanging open slightly. Will looks down at his lap, tasting bile and champagne rising in his throat. He swallows it down.

“Do you wanna be my midnight kiss?”

Will nearly breaks his neck with the speed at which he turns to look at Mike. “What?”

“I said, do you wanna be my midnight kiss? You know, that thing that people do? On New Year’s Eve?”

“Mike,” he pleads, confused and a little panicked, “what are you talking about? You don’t – you don’t like me like that. Don’t do this for my sake, that’s just stupid –”

“Who said it’s just for your sake?” Mike snaps, a little frustrated. He softens a little, probably realizing how insane he sounds right now. “Listen, I – I mean, I’m…surprised. I don’t really know if I thought about us like that before. Maybe I didn’t let myself even go there, like, uh, mentally? But I feel –” and he places a hand against his own ribs – “happy, y’know? Giddy, almost.” 

Mike leans into Will’s personal space a little intensely. “And don’t you dare try to let me off by saying we’re drunk, because you and I both know we didn’t have enough for that.” Will shrugs, conceding before he can even begin to fight that battle. 

“I don’t get it,” he admits, trying not to sound as pathetic, needy, and utterly lost as he feels. Mike just grins at him, all boyish charm and eager humility.

“You make me smile. I like taking care of you, and you take care of me too. We understand each other – I mean, sometimes I feel like you’re the only person who really knows me, and you still like me? That’s – I mean, I can’t even wrap my head around that.”

“Why? You’re an incredible person,” Will protests, flushing with embarrassment as he does so. Mike’s smile gets even wider, somehow. He wrings his hands together as his leg begins to bounce, seemingly of his own accord.

“Do you know how fucking excited it makes me when you say shit like that? Feels like I could run a whole marathon, and dude, you know how much I hate running. I can’t believe I used to think you just made me nervous! How stupid is that? I guess I always thought being close to you – was dangerous, or something, like I was going to hurt you again. And I do still worry about that sometimes,” he adds, suddenly serious, “but that definitely doesn’t explain the butterflies.”

“Butterflies?” Will asks, incredulous. He’s not fully convinced this is real. Mike laughs, tipping his head back, well and truly cackling as if he can’t contain the joy he’s feeling.

“Yes! Butterflies! I’m so stupid, seriously, Will. I used to do stuff like – like keeping track of how much you smiled when we’d hang out with our friends, or trying to figure out what exactly it was that made you smell so nice on a given day, or wanting to be…to be close to you, just to hold you. And I guess I thought I was just being an attentive friend, but now that I know – I mean, of course I like you! How could I not like you, Will?”

Will thinks he might actually burst into tears right here in Mike’s bedroom, which is definitely a mood killer. By some miracle, he refrains.

“And don’t even get me started,” Mike continues, a little breathless in his excitement, “on what it does to me when I think about kissing you. Shit, I really want to kiss you. Can I kiss you, please?”

Will swallows, tries not to think too hard about the surreal bizarro world he’s suddenly found himself in. He takes a deep breath and looks down at his watch. “Hmm, I don’t know. Doesn’t look like it’s midnight yet.”

Despite the fact that Mike has a fully functional watch of his own, he leans even closer to Will anyways, peering down at his watch. “Well, what am I supposed to do for the next…forty-seven seconds?” Will just smiles at Mike, tipping his head forward until their foreheads are touching, and letting himself finally run a hand through his best friend’s soft, short waves.

“Be patient, loverboy,” he croons, earning a playfully indignant scoff from Mike. “Something tells me you’re gonna get kissed a lot next year.”

“Oh yeah?” 

“Yeah. Consider it my resolution,” Will breathes out.

When midnight comes and their lips finally meet, it’s like a billion fireworks have gone off all at once.

(Later on, after they’ve exchanged kisses to the point of putting their lungs entirely out of commission, the two of them crawl under the covers and cling to each other. They feign some excuse like body heat, but there’s no point in disguising any of it. They know.

And if Will, overwhelmed with joy at the feeling of Mike snoring gently against his shoulder, whispers “Happy fucking New Year,” into the open air…well, then. No one has to know, do they?)

[gaveldefy]

" not the worst thing anyone's ever said to me, " jax can't help but tease, leaning into astoria's shoulder to emphasize the budding playful mood. all the time they'd spend together only served to strengthen his resolve to make the club a better place. clearly, his father had different ideas of where everyone was supposed to go, given the manifesto he'd found in the storage unit.

had tara been around, maybe he'd consider leaving the club as opposed to making it less bloody. all jax could think of were the positives he felt in growing up in such an environment. for one, he was never alone. whenever either clay or gemma were busy he could stay with piney with no problem. there was always someone around just like one big extended family. how many people had that out in the real world? but, jax did agree that they'd veered off course somewhere. a bubbling down in the pit of his gut said that was because clay got greedy. every bump the club hit meant the old man was trying that much harder to make up for lost space. but, why? just to retire?

jax doesn't respond to the question right away. his own thoughts seemingly plucked from his brain and put out on display for only red to see. he lifts his head from where it'd settled down on her shoulder, allowing himself to fidget with the fingers twined with his as a way of working through his thoughts.

although, all of it stops at four little words. almost like a hiccup in his movements because he goes right back to feeling over one of her knuckles with the pad of his thumb. " enough to marry me? " that playful streak back with a sleepy vengeance. the biker lifts both their hands to his lips, allowing the kiss to linger before setting everything back down again. " i love you, too, red. looking back, i can see how much i was just floating through life before you came along. one great fuck to the next. that shit don't mean anything, though. this, " his index points down at the porch. " being able to talk to you like this...lean on you...trust you with all my secrets. that shit means more to me than you'll ever know. "

for the first time, jax could honestly say he trusted a partner with his life. he'd never felt that before.

" as for clay, " a train of thought that brings the fidgeting back. " story doesn't add up. the beef we have with leroy right now? doesn't need blood. why escalate even if opie was the intended target? he says we're being greedy and i'm inclined to agree with him. but, he also knows starting a war with us only sandwiches him with the mayans and threatens to cut off his gun supply in the process. so, maybe it wasn't leroy and it was just someone trying to make a statement cause you certainly don't look at that piece of shit truck and think to steal it. "

there it was, only a fraction of the monologue he'd been having with himself since they found donna on the street. shaking his head, jax takes his free hand to rub up and down his face. " all that to say, yeah, i think ope was the target. what i can't wrap my head around is why. "

She lets out a thoughtful hum around the cigarette before she puts out out on the step beside her and slips her hand into his. Gently, she raises their linked hands, presses a kiss to his knuckles first, then the soft underside of his wrist, just over the flutter of his pulse. "Looks like you're stuck with me, love," Astoria says with a little laugh, and she lowers their hands, nestles closer to him. It's so simple to say—a statement of fact more than a declaration of war against anything that wants to uproot her now, including her own cowardice.

For several long moments, she's silent, her lower lip caught in her teeth and the fingers of her free hand drumming against a bare knee as she thinks. His confession pulls her back to the present, and she lets out another laugh, bright and warm. "Must be a hell of a woman, to get you thinking about that again." She raises her eyebrows, nose scrunching with the width of her smile. "Better keep that one around.

"I get it, though." Her voice is softer, and despite the steady grip of her hand around his, she's lost in the memory for a moment. "I was engaged in uni—after everything that happened I was so afraid of being alone, and then I just felt like I was being suffocated. And it was so overwhelming and terrifying that I just started self-destructing, like I wanted to make sure I could still feel anything else, because if being loved wasn't enough to fix me, then there had to be something really fucking wrong, right? I was twenty-one when we split up, after four years, and it was like coming up for air. Haven't been serious about anyone since, really. Well." Her smile grows crooked, and she's fully present again, eyes bright as they meet his. "Until now."

Astoria falls silent again, and her fingers slip between Jax's, lacing tightly into his as if she means to ground herself. She's thinking about it again, the funeral and Jax's brief appearance, the ever-growing distance between him and Clay, the tension so tangible she sometimes thinks she could hold it in her hands. "So if wives and kids are off-limits, either all the rules are changing, or Opie was the target, and Donna was just in the wrong place at the wrong time." There's plenty he can't tell her, but she asks anyway, just in case. "Which do you think it was?"

And then, voice softer and almost hesitant, like she's not sure what to expect in response: "I love you. You know that, right? I'm the kind of in love with you that feels really, really big. And I'm all in. None of this changes that for me."

[yeetlegay]

Kinn’s voice in episode 6: aka Kinn’s Camp Rock “this is real, this is me” era

So I genuinely didn’t even know where to start with this episode. There’s just SO much going on vocally, and it’s not necessarily as easily broken down scene-by-scene as in previous episodes. I’m honestly still frazzled, devastated, blown away by the episode as a whole to the point that I feel like half my thoughts can be summed up with that bizarre noise Emma Thompson makes at the end of “Sense and Sensibility” in that proposal scene (iykyk).

But I’m going to do my best to put my thoughts in actual words, so bear with me! There will be some tangents along the way that aren’t strictly voice-related, but hopefully it all comes together in the end!

Starting with the wandering around scene.

I went with this screenshot because it’s fucking hilarious, but also because of the fact that I literally couldn’t get a clean, clear frame of him in this particular exchange where they’re doing Rock Paper Scissors. He’s moving that fast.

What’s striking about this whole extended scene of them bitching at each other and going in circles is how unrestrained Kinn is. More than that, how much that lack of restraint is completely removed from any performance of power. He’s being forceful, yelling at Porsche, swearing at him, fighting for control of the situation, but with absolutely no real attempt to replicate the classic voice that would actually make him sound powerful and in control. He has absolutely no real authority in this forest, and even before Porsche calls him out on it, Kinn knows it.

They’re both clearly frustrated, Kinn especially, trying to navigate unfamiliar terrain while shackled together. But having seen the entire forest arc play out, the rewatch experience in this particular moment is...something.

Now we know that this entire time, Kinn could have taken those cuffs off, making a difficult situation slightly less so and giving him the freedom to go where he wants. But of course he doesn’t. He keeps the cuffs on, argues with Porsche, bickers with him, throws tantrums when he doesn’t get his way, and generally plays at being just as unhappy with the state of affairs as Porsche seems to be.

But he doesn’t take the cuffs off. He would rather be here, in this moment, sweating and dirty and lost, fighting with Porsche, than back home in his fine suits, air conditioning, and position of authority. He’d rather have a defiant, annoying, pain-in-the-ass Porsche than not have him at all.

I say all of that because listen to how Kinn sounds underneath all that unrestrained yelling and complaining. He sounds giddy. His voice is higher, more lightweight, more youthful, all the power and control hollowed out. He’s likely still running on some adrenaline from their dramatic night fighting off kidnappers, but more than that, he’s using volume and a more dynamic tone (voice falling and rising almost at random, from soft to hard, hoarser to airier, projecting without actual force) to distract from the very subtle, excited tension in his voice. If you listen closely, in certain lines you can actually hear a bit of a vibration, a nervous energy.

Kinn just so readily, so eagerly leans into this newfound freedom without the constraints of power, position, and class standing between him and Porsche. He allows himself to get excited, to be juvenile and competitive and expressive. He allows himself to mirror Porsche’s energy and even escalate it, exhilarated by this side of Porsche. It’s not that he’s never seen Porsche like this; it’s that now, finally, he’s able to respond in kind, to react more honestly to Porsche without having to think about how it looks.

And as soon as the two of them hit the water during their tousle, all his vocal bluster and posturing immediately falls away, and we see what a thin disguise it was to begin with.

The creek and truck scenes.

I couldn’t pick a screenshot because it’s all just AHHHHHHHH. The second he drops the whole frustrated act, his voice is just full. Listen to the laugh he lets out in that moment from the second screenshot above.

This is Kinn completely devoid of airs and masks. He’s just happy, here with Porsche, finally allowed to be carefree and not have to bother with the persona he’s crafted so painstakingly over the years.

Even when they get a little exasperated again later on as they head up the road, once again that exasperation fades away instantly when they find a new object of interest and usefulness (the truck).

For personal reasons, I will be replaying Kinn’s cute little “Hey! A truck!” on a loop for the next week. He’s a whole babie.

I really don’t even have much to say about Kinn’s voice because it’s just so straightforward in these early scenes. And that’s exactly the point! He’s reverted to a simpler, more honest, more open version of himself without need for artifice. There’s not much to analyze because he’s just in his element and focused on basic, uncomplicated emotions: excitement, giddiness, even joy. He’s not thinking too deeply, just allowing himself to feel and be without self-regulating.

I have literally no commentary on the fire scene other than what a fucking dumbass Kinn is in his most natural state. He literally woke up and immediately pointed an invisible gun at his “attacker.” And then pouted and called Porsche names when he realized what he did. Kinn, if anyone is a moron, it is definitely you. (Said with all the love in my heart.)

He’s just a pouty princess honestly. Like look at the petulant little retorts he throws back at Porsche, how he acts put-out when Porsche teases him, his bitchy little side-eye at Porsche. If I were Porsche, I’d almost think Kinn was flirting, albeit very badly.

As an aside, I think it’s at about this point that Porsche starts to fall for Kinn. Look at his expressions in this scene, how fascinated he is by this different side to Kinn, how enthralled he is by the version of Kinn that’s silly and cocky and childish and carefree and excited by the simplest things. Porsche would never have fallen fully in love with Kinn the Mafia Prince, but this Kinn? This Kinn seals the deal.

The fishing scene.

Once again I’m struck by how difficult it is to get a clean shot of Kinn during so much of his dialogue, because he’s moving around so much! He’s practically vibrating, bouncing in place, fully giving into his expressive, passionate nature.

I said toward the beginning that it’s harder to analyze this episode scene by scene, and it’s true because once again I don’t have much to break down here that I haven’t already said above. Kinn’s voice is just, once again, giddy. It’s straightforward. His voice is achingly honest in these scenes, because he’s not thinking beyond the simple pleasure of this moment, standing next to Porsche, learning something new, surrounded by nature, finally free just for a little while from the heavy weight of family, responsibility, and obligation around his neck.

Later on in this scene, when he and Porsche are sharing the fish they caught, even though Kinn is calmer, more laidback, his voice still has that very subtle vibration to it, almost a kind of musicality. It’s not smoothed over, polished, crafted to be what he needs for any given moment. There’s a complete lack of modulation that allows his voice to go lighter, sweeter, more melodic.

The dream jobs scene.

Oh. OoooooOOOOOoooooHHHHhhhhhHHhH this scene.

So full disclosure: I have an extremely low tolerance for cringe. I had to skip the actual singing the first time I watched because I simply Could Not. The second Kinn opened his mouth I knew what was coming. So the fact that I forced myself, in UTTER AGONY, to sit down and watch the singing bit when writing this post, is an Achievement.

Kinn’s voice is lower in this scene, a little calmer, but still has that melodic expressiveness to it. When he admits to his childhood dream of being a singer, his voice goes so soft, so wistful. He’s showing his belly in this scene, allowing himself not just to be himself but to share himself.

Note: Look at the way he glances repeatedly at Porsche, eyebrows lifted, eyes searching, actively seeking encouragement from Porsche without saying a word. He wants assurance from Porsche. He cares so much about what he thinks.

There’s also a barely automatically tremor in his voice as he starts talking about the singing competition and his theory that his dad essentially bought his win. It still stings, all these years later, to have had a dream quietly shattered, first by his father’s interference, and later by his brother’s trauma.

As he opens up further about Tankhun, he’s letting uncertainty bleed into his voice, vulnerability. He’s speaking to Porsche as an equal, asking for his input, trusting him with the doubts he’s never shared before. He knows that his questioning of Tankhun is more about him—his fears, his regrets, his grief for the life he might have had—than any genuine resentment toward his big brother. He’s trusting that Porsche will see the question for what it is: a request for validation, for someone else to empathize with where those thoughts come from while also reassuring him that they’re not true, that he can trust what he sees.

This extended scene just eases through so much character so naturally that you don’t even realize how much ground it’s covering on your first watch. We hear Kinn’s voice slowly open up, become softer, shyer, more vulnerable, as he gives more and more of his secrets to Porsche. He’s testing the waters, so to speak, to see how it feels to be honest with Porsche, to see how Porsche responds. And Porsche keeps meeting his honesty and responding in kind.

You can think of this conversation, in fact this entire episode, almost like a spiral, with the deepest truth at the center. At the outer edge, we begin with Kinn exposing a different side to his personality: impatient, unrestrained, excited. We go further into the spiral and see his childish side, his youthful joy, the pleasure he can derive from simple things like learning how to fish or finding an abandoned truck to sleep in for the night.

In this scene, we traverse a lot of ground deeper into the spiral toward that Big Truth, but we don’t actually get to the center. Kinn apologizes for the wrongs he’s done to Porsche, speaking gently and almost pleadingly, but he doesn’t actually name them. He’s shying away from the truth both because he’s afraid to talk openly about it but also because he’s not sure what Porsche is willing to hear.

So his voice, when he apologizes, is hesitant, halting, unsure. His eyes are shifting to and away from Porsche, trying to gauge his reaction to know if he should take the apology a step further. But in this moment, Porsche, who’s been meeting his honesty throughout the scene so far, doesn’t respond in kind. He thinks for a long moment, opens his mouth a little like he’s debating saying something, but then chooses to nod and give a vague acknowledgment.

Kinn knows, from Porsche’s reluctance to match Kinn’s first attempt at candor, that this isn’t the time to talk about it, to get to that Big Truth. So he lets it go.

The ravine scene.

This moment above has turned out to be one of my favorites in the entire episode purely thanks to Kinn’s voice.

On its own, Kinn’s first couple of lines spoken while they’re sitting opposite each other aren’t really that profound. But the way he says them? Holy shit.

Think about what happened immediately prior to this. Porsche was trying desperately to find a way to climb out of that ravine, frustrated at the handcuffs for making that escape impossible, asking, “Why do we have to be cuffed together like this?”

Kinn watches him in that moment, and even without his line (”But this makes us know each other so much better.”) you can see everything on his face. The reality, one of the truths sitting right smack next to the center of that spiral, that he’s holding Porsche back. He’s trapping him against his will, not out of malice, but out of selfishness, out of his own yearning for Porsche, without fully considering how Porsche must feel.

That moment, when he watches Porsche’s brief outburst, is when Kinn decides to take the handcuffs off. To let Porsche go.

But first, he’s going to be selfish for just a little longer. He wants a little more time, one more chance to talk to Porsche, to be honest with him as best he can. To get as close to the center of that spiral, that Big Truth, as he dares.

That specific context is why his voice in this scene is so interesting. It’s still soft, still low, still open, but there’s more control there. He’s making more of an effort to modulate his tone, not out of any need to manipulate or exert influence, but to express himself as carefully and intentionally as he can. This is the last chance he has to talk to Porsche, and he wants to do it right.

He doesn’t waste any time, choosing to share with Porsche that when he first heard his name being called, he didn’t want to leave. He’s trying to bare his heart to Porsche, haltingly, not sure how best to go about it, but trying to so hard to make his words count.

You can see that he’s forcing himself to keep going, that he’s determined to give Porsche as much truth as he can while he can, in the hopes that it can make Porsche feel better, but also ease his own guilt, make it easier to bear watching him leave. He pushes through his apology, knowing that Porsche may not be entirely ready to hear it, but also knowing he has to say it anyway. He keeps his voice gentle, soft, trying to ease the tension of the conversation as much as he can.

And Porsche, although visibly awkward and struggling for words, at last meets his honesty with his own. It’s vague, sure, and maybe not all he has to say, but at least they’ve acknowledged another truth, chipped away a little more at the space between them.

It’s enough for Kinn. It has to be. “Then from now on,” he says, even more gently, “we won’t have any doubts between us.”

The goodbye scene.

Otherwise known as the scene that ruined my life.

As stated above, Kinn decided hours ago to let Porsche go. And that decision gives him the freedom to finally be 100% open with Porsche, to let his voice really fill with all the tenderness, all the sheer feeling he has for Porsche, as he tells him to go home to his brother, to his life and his future and his dreams.

Kinn’s voice trembles here. You can hear the knot in his throat, the way he’s trying so hard not to let his own pain color all the hope and love he feels for Porsche. He wants Porsche to be happy so badly, is desperate for him to live the life that he wants away from Kinn’s world. And it only takes the slightest prompting from Porsche to admit it openly: “I like it when you’re happy.”

@clandestinegardenias​ said it so much better than I ever could in her post here about the line “Just go! That’s an order!” This is Kinn starting to step back into his old persona, all so he can give Porsche the out he needs to leave. Kinn is reclaiming the power that he gave up in the forest, all so he can use it for Porsche’s sake, selflessly, unhesitatingly. He orders Porsche to go because he knows that by giving Porsche the illusion of a command rather than a choice, he’s giving him the chance to leave without guilt.

The implications of that are...staggering. This is what Kinn can do with the tiny sliver of power that he has. When given the chance, Kinn chooses to use that power out of love, to protect the people he cares about. Every day he makes the conscious choice to sacrifice his happiness for his family, his role, his inheritance. He’s lost so much of himself, his childhood, his personality, his life, to doing the selfless thing. And here he does it yet again, not because anyone is asking him to, but because he knows it’s the most honest expression of love he can give.

That’s the center of that spiral. That’s Kinn’s Big Truth. That he loves Porsche, enough to give up his power, enough to hold onto him, but most of all, enough to let him go.

(And of course, as we learn a few minutes later, enough to die for him.)

Honorable mention: Porsche’s “FUDGE!”

I cackle like a witch every fucking time.

***

I’ve run out of room in this post so I’m going to leave it here, although there were so many wonderful vocal moments in this episode that some inevitably didn’t make it in here. If you’d like to read my previous voice analyses, links are below, and I keep a masterpost of all metas I do pinned at the top of my blog for easy access.

Why Kinn’s voice fucks me up: a silly little analysis (episodes 1-4)

Kinn’s voice in episode 4: basically my man is losing it

Kinn’s voice in episode 5: Kinn, respectfully, go to therapy

Kinn’s voice in episode 7: heart boners everywhere

[troquantary]

Aro’s Conspicuous Generosity Goes Unacknowledged, Again

(Or, I’ve emerged from hibernation to screech anew about how none of these morons deserve Aro. Enjoy!)

So this isn’t a new or original thought -- @therealvinelle has Aro raise the point in her fic Nebuchadnezzar’s Dream (of which the latest chapter just hit me like a truck, by the way, so thanks for that) and also brings it up in this post -- but if the Cullens have a brain cell left among them after Breaking Dawn, they should realize that Aro did them an unbelievable solid by keeping quiet about one Police Chief Charlie Swan. He knows Charlie knows, because he read Edward, and the fact that he didn’t use it as a convenient excuse to execute the Cullens is pretty compelling evidence that...he never wanted to do that in the first place.

At the time he reads Edward, Aro isn’t worried about the Cullens’ “army” -- he’s not yet aware of the full power of Bella’s shield, so as far as he knows Alec and Jane can still subdue the group at any time. The Cullens may not have made an immortal child, but they have still flagrantly broken the law -- I seriously doubt there’s a “but he doesn’t know we’re vampires, specifically” loophole here. Charlie knows about shapeshifters, and knows something equally unnatural has happened to his daughter. He is, again, the town police chief. This is a capital-C Crime, and Chief Swan’s startling capacity for willful blindness isn’t going to cut it.

If Aro’s intentions were nefarious, it wouldn’t matter that Jacob, not the Cullens, blew their cover. That just gives him a reason to sentence the pack to death, too, if he’s so inclined -- as it is, Aro only talks Caius down from genocide by pointing out that the shapeshifters are also keeping the supernatural secret, so they’re not a threat. (Attentive readers will note the GLARING LIE OF OMISSION here. Hmm, curious.) Aro is willing to let Caius, his co-leader, look like an entire ass in front of the vampire public rather than give him the cause he needs to dispense fiery, dismember-y justice.

What conclusion can we draw from Aro’s silence? He’s not stashing this intel to justify a future confrontation -- that makes no sense, the whole guard’s already right here. Bella makes a whole stink in her narration about how Aro must be scheming, looking for something he can exploit to justify an attack, completely oblivious to the fact that he already has it and isn’t using it. Aro needs to be sure that Renesmee isn’t a ticking time-bomb, yes, but I think other than that he’s trying to de-escalate, despite the tremendous political embarrassment of showing up in full force for nothing.

It seems to me that, especially after the clusterfuck in Eclipse that was probably Caius’ doing and not Aro’s anyway, Aro is doing his level best to avoid killing Carlisle, and also to avoid ruining his friendship with Carlisle any further. (Which, uh...I’ve got good news and bad news.) Sparing Edward despite his atrocious behavior and letting him waltz off home with Bella in New Moon was a great act of mercy and a striking indication of Aro’s regard for Carlisle; so, too, is his decision to let the thing with Charlie slide despite the unprecedented threat Bella’s ability now poses to their entire world order, and despite the fact that his friendship with Carlisle is now in a dumpster, on fire, while also somehow sinking to the bottom of the ocean. Task failed successfully.

I honestly feel so bad for the guy, you know? This is the worst day Aro’s had in a long time.

And none of the Cullens even realize what he’s done for them. Or Bella doesn’t realize, anyway, so it doesn’t come up in the denouement of Breaking Dawn, and she’s so deep in her sparkly folie à deux with Edward (which is a whole separate meta) that she never will. Carlisle’s probably too hurt and Disappointed in Aro to reflect on it much. And if Edward picked it up in Aro’s thoughts, he’s certainly not going to tell, because he hates the Volturi and is batshit crazy, and also just sucks, like, so hard.

[obeiii-mee]

Could I request the brothers (and maybe Diavolo, if you're comfortable) reacting to a knightly/chivalrous m/c, please?

———————————————————

I haven’t written Diavolo in a hot minute, I’m glad he’s being requested again. I’m guessing you mean an MC with the attributes of a knight? The same sort of mannerisms and traits and not an actual knight! MC? Lemme know if I did this ask wrong because I was low key confused lmao.

———————————————————

The Brothers + Diavolo with a knightly/chivalrous MC:

Lucifer:

-He really didn’t like you upon first meeting

-He hated how he couldn’t intimidate you into not being a nuisance the way he could with most of his brothers

-But, to be honest, you had gained his respect rather early on

-I think, even though it may have annoyed him to no end, Lucifer was very fond of your bravery a lot of the times

-The way you would stand up for Mammon or that time you protected Beel and Luke from his outburst

-Courage is not a trait one would usually associate with humans, especially when more superior beings like demons are involved

-Your humility was also a characteristic of yours that he, surprisingly, was really fond of

-And your overall mercifulness was something to be congratulated as well

-I mean, him and his brothers put you through so much shit and for you to forgive and move on without an angry word at any of them kinda speaks on its own

-I think he understands, to an extent, the reason you’re so loyal to the people you care about too

-He has a certain devotion for Lord Diavolo and his brothers, more than he lets on

-To him, having someone like you around is something to be appreciated

-Because you are similar but also completely different and nothing like he deemed you to be at the beginning

-yo i think you remind him of himself back when he was angel tbh

-He’s sort of tired of saving your ass tho because you are very just, so you feel the need to help people all the time which leads to you getting involved in fights

-Bring him his 20th cup of coffee for the day please, it’s hard being a single father of 8 children (yes I’ve added Lord Diavolo he counts as one of the kids)

-He’s the definition of this incorrect quote I stumbled across a while back

- MC: “FIGHT ME RIGHT NOW!”

-Lucifer, from behind them “ Do not.”

Mammon:

-Ok so this random human comes to DevilDom and has the audacity to slap his hand away while he’s trying to steal from Diavolo’s castle????????

-“MC ya’re forgetting I’m a demon, my moral scale is wayyy different than yours-“

-“Put it back.”

-“......ok.”

-You’re coming at him with rightfulness and honor and your presence is gonna hit him like a truck

-Cuz he ain’t stealing anything when you’re around (lucifer uses this to his advantage ofc.)

-That was basically the only thing he disliked about you

-Other than that, after your first week in DevilDom, he thinks you’re a goddamn S A I N T

-Everytime you stand up for him when his brothers are being assholes-pls he melts into a puddle of goo from your perfection

-OOFFS AND ALL THOSE TIMES YOU GAVE HIM GIFTS BECAUSE GENEROSITY BBY

-Good thing he was wearing sunglasses, because holy fuck was he weeping under those Gucci shades

-He’s gonna give ya props for having the courage to stand up to him and his brothers

-Lucifer especially because big bro scary

-Think about it like this: literally every single one of them could have you seasoned and roasted for lunch, love

-And yet you still have the bravery to look them in the eye and tell them: “Ya’ll are dysfunctional as fuck and need family therapy.”

-Again, he doesn’t understand your morale, he’s the Avatar of Greed, if he sees something he likes or seems worthy of his presence, he takes it

-But with that look you’re giving him, he honestly feels so guilty he can’t help but put it back

-He also appreciates your patience with him when it comes to anything that involves him talking about his emotions and thought process

-Because at this point he is widely known as scum so-

-Ahhhh, in the end, he thinks you’re pretty badass for a human and would low key want to see you in an armour of sorts agajwhisebhwjwwhehgdhdh

-And he really likes it when you make the effort to open doors for him too but he’ll never have the nerve to admit it

Levi:

-Believe it or not, he warms up to you in less than a day...?

-It’s probably because he’s a navy commander and he’s used to having soldiers around and you sort of remind him of that

-Out of everyone, he reacts the least when he sees how you carry yourself because to him it’s second nature

-Even if he does tend to slouch most of the time

-Almost dropped to his knees and started worshiping you when you yelled at Mammon to give Levi his money back on your first day

-And then a friendship started to blossom (im not friendzoning y’all, relax)

-Levi has a tendency to just walk into your room with his laptop, point at the screen which is paused in the middle of an anime and go “Look, the protagonist is a knight. You’re also...really knightly. I like the protagonist. I, uh I like you too, I guess.”

-He loves how honest you are because he knows that no matter what you wouldn’t lie to him

-“MC, do you think I’m a yucky otaku?”

-“No.”

-“But-“

-“No.”

-“Oh ok.”

-But on the inside he’s like 🥰🥰💞💞💞💞

-I just think that a knightly MC would connect on an emotional level with Levi for a lot of reasons, idk

-He’s gonna be a sputtering mess when he realises how much effort you put into this relationship (platonic or romantic) and how loyal you are to it

-Like how you actually bother learning all of his stupid passwords because you are just as serious about them as he is

-He just crashed, give him a moment to reboot please

Satan:

-He takes a while to warm up to you because for some reason your overall demeanour reminded him of Lucifer lol

-He thought you might be just as stuck up as him

-It didn’t take him longer than a week or so to come to the sudden realisation that you are way more pleasant than his brother

-Like his daddy, you manage to earn his respect pretty quickly after that

-He just thought the way you handled everything that was thrown at you in DevilDom was very sophisticated but firm nonetheless, if that makes sense?

-Like, you weren’t itching to escalate fights or anything but your tone of voice could easily end a whole conversation if need be

-You were still a human of course, it would be real easy for some low rank demon to kidnap you or something

-But for some reason, your confidence seemed to intimidate a few of the weaker ones into leaving you alone

-Obviously, that didn’t mean you were completely safe or anything

-There were still others that could effortlessly overpower you

-Even so, Satan found it sort of reassuring that unlike some humans, you weren’t one to back down without a confrontation

-Don’t get me started on all those times you rebelled against Lucifer, because that’s what truly got him to get to know you better

-He found you pretty interesting and then that interest sort of evolved into actual fondness

-Another thing that caught his eye was that even though you have very strong feelings about justice and fairness, you are completely level headed most of the time

-And patience, while it’s something he can manage, is the one that he has been trying to control for centuries

-He learned a lot from you about behaviour, whether you intentionally taught it to him or not

-And if there is one thing Satan thinks highly of; it would be knowledge

-Therefore, from that point onward, your existence was so much more precious to him than your soul could ever be

Asmo:

-What can I say about our sweet Asmo?

-You could have the personality of a trashcan and he’d still love you

-You were so polite and honourable from the beginning to the point you managed to get the attention of the Avata of Lust himself????

-He thought you were pretty hot basically

-hoWEVER

-Your righteousness always sort of nagged him because he low-key believed Diavolo snuck in another angel into the program, I-

-And for some reason, your loyalty to everyone in general ticked him off immensely at the beginning

-Mainly because he recognised that’s one of the traits he lacks entirely and he came to the conclusion that he needs to revaluate himself on that one

-He is so desperate for your attention, he will tattle on his brothers just to get you to yell at them and then comfort him

-“MCCCCC, MAMMON STOLE MY NEWEST MAKE UP KIT AND IS ABOUT TO SELL IT ON AKUZON!”

-he is so petty istg

-Your nobility still catches him off guard every now and then

-Because you’ve been living with demons for so long and yet you’re still, theoretically speaking, pure?? get your head out of the gutter people

-He probably applauds you on the fact that you can even scare Lucifer on some occasions because imagine having a scarier death glare than the eldest prince of hell

-Asmo will personally buy you clothes that he thinks suit your “aesthetic” (wtf Asmo)

-Might’ve bought you a sword and then got shouted at by Lucifer because oops turns out it was cursed

-Again, supportive mom vibes

-“MC, do you know how stunning you look strutting around with that confidence of yours? Don’t get me started on your posTURE!”

-You pulled a chair for him once and he practically swooned lmao

Beel:

-He figures you’re really nice from the start

-Mostly because you kept running errands and opening doors for him even though he let it slip that he might lose control and eat you

-Like most brothers, he finds you comforting in a way

-Beel appreciates your honesty to him too because he can count on you to tell him when he’s doing something wrong

-And he sort of needs the validation that even though he blames himself for a lot of things that took place in the past, his brothers and you are more than ready to forgive him (even if they didn’t blame him to begin with)

-Rather than respect, Beel puts a lot of trust into you, which I would believe to be more intimate

-If it’s just the two of you hanging out, he has an easier time opening up about Lilith because he knows you would never judge him and respect his feelings enough to let him get it out of his system

-You always share your food with him and give him a bigger portion and he goes so soft-

-Like who allowed you to be this generous?

-Tbh, he thinks it’s sort of refreshing having someone like you around

-Beel has been surrounded by demons for millenniums now and he’s gotten used to their...uh ‘evilness’

-Ever since you got dropped off in DevilDom, you really stood out with your nobility and morals

-It was like a breath of fresh air in a way

-He may or may not believe you’re a good influence on his siblings-if you can even influence demons of all things

-I’m not saying he invites you to work out with him and give him honest criticism, but he definitely invites you to work out with him and give him honest criticism

Belphie:

-“Out of all the humans they could’ve chosen, they picked the most annoying one, oH MY FUCKING GO-I MEAN DAD-“

-You go up to the attic that one night after tricking Lucifer into vibing to some classical TSL tunes

-He spotted you and was immediately irritated

-Like, he KNEW you were going to be a pain in the ass just by judging your posture and how you carried yourself (very knightly)

-At the start, he’s even hesitant to lie to you because he had a suspicion you wouldn’t buy his bs

-(Spoiler alert: you didn’t but you went with it either way)

-It takes a while for you to forgive him when he literally fucking kills you because that was rude af but you got over it in time

-AFTER of the whole ‘Sorry-for-choking-you-can-we-be-friends-now’ incident, you still get on his nerves a lot but at this point, he believes that’s his punishment for being a murderous dickhead

-You don’t really piss him off tho, you just confuse him a lot

-Why are you so polite? You keep pulling chairs and opening doors for him??? Why are you treating him like royalty?? Stop it, he doesn’t want to be like Lord Diavolo (he def likes it when you do that)

-Pls stop dragging the poor man to breakfast, he just wants to sleep in-

-He doesn’t understand how you’re always one time for everything

-My dude tries to wake up 20 minutes early to get somewhere in time and he is still 2 hours late

-sTOP TRYING TO FORCE YOUR IDEALS ONTO HIM, HE’S A LITTLE SHIT WHO ENJOYS WATCHING PEOPLE SUFFER

-All the same, you’re a very forgiving person so he’s just grateful you don’t hate him or anything

-And in the end, it doesn’t really matter how much your chivalry and righteousness and all of that pisses him off every now and then

-Because he can’t deny the fact that you brought him and his brothers the peace they needed

-And he so loves it when you and Lucifer go head to head mhmm

Diavolo:

-This big tittied man right here takes a liking to you immediately

-A couple of days in DevilDom and he’s already inviting you for tea at his castle

-You managed to befriend the prince of hell faster than the demons you live with, huh

-He’s lonely ok? He loves having people over and having cozy chitchats

-Not to mention he thinks you’re such pleasant company!

-Most demons would be afraid to even say anything in his presence but you always speak your mind while continuing to be respectful and he’s so happy, you don’t understand-

-Only demons in close relations to Diavolo like Babrbatos and Lucifer actually know how much it takes for someone to anger him

-He doesn’t take offence to much lol

-And he’s really content that you acknowledged that

-He sometimes visits you in his spare time just to talk and hang out since Lucifer is a big meanie who doesn’t want to indulge him and Barbatos is busy making him dinner >:(

-SPEAKING OF- if you and Barbatos don’t bond then i don’t know what to tell you

-I mean, you would both have so many things in common (strong sense of loyalty, honesty, just in a way etc.)

-You’re his favourite guest to have over at the palace, sorry Luci you’ve been replaced

-He genuinely finds you interesting as well so please tell him stories from the human realm!! He’s dying to learn more!

-Diavolo notices you demeanour sort of gives off warrior vibes so-

-He really considered making you into a knight bc it’s Diavolo-what he says; goes

-“I know they’re human but they’ll be fine. Look how tough they are! They managed to survive a year with you and your brothers didn’t they?”

-“My Lord, that doesn’t amount to anything, please don’t get our human killed-“

[moxfirefly]

Yes I should be working on prompts (which I am) but this has been nagging me and I wanna write it out so enjoy. Here are some First Time™️ headcanons and how it might’ve gone down with a few realistic blunders here and there cause yes.

Needless to say nsfw under the cut

Leonardo

Ok so fearless himself first experience isn’t all the way of you catch my drift.

No seriously the first thing that happens for him is a blowjob which isn’t exactly how he expected his first sexual experience to go down like (was that a pun? wow)

Necessarily isn’t a bad thing, but let’s be clear Leo has that idea of the typical first time events, the candles, the ambience, all nervous touching etc

But then again Leo never expected to even get to experience having someone fall for him let alone want to be intimately involved with him

And it’s so out of the realms of how he dreamt or fantasized about it. Because his s/o catches him off guard.

It happens at Vern’s fancy af penthouse(all that Falcon money you telling me they ain’t hanging out there, he owes them lol)

But yeah it’s one of those get together nights, the gangs there with Ape and Casey. Musics playing, Casey set up beer pong, everyone is so engrossed in the game that when Leo slips out to find the bathroom he’s a little startled when you grab him and gesture him to be quiet

He’s even more startled when you get into the bathroom with him and kiss him like you haven’t seen in weeks.

It’s somewhat subtle cause you’re gonna run your hands down that plastron and admire how broad and strong he is and Leo absolutely eats that shit up he LOVES when you admire him and compliment his strength and hell even his looks

Leo’s brain becomes white noise when you get on your knees though and your hands reach the hem of his pants and there’s several heartbeats where you wait for him to say ‘keep going’ and all Leo can do is just nod, grip the sink behind him as a shyness takes over him when he feels his pants slide down

There amongst the music and group banter just a few feet away hes in some fancy bathroom with his s/o on their knees engulfing him and gripping him and honestly Leo’s meditation skills go out the window.

It’s not that long of an experience honestly and Leo is embarrassed that he couldn’t hold out a little longer, he’s also worried he didn’t warn you in time that he was about cum but you seem to handle the situation with grace and give him a smile even as you cough slightly. It really makes him flushed cause you look so beautiful right then and there and the two of you start giggling and laughing cause it just such a left field situation. It catches him even more off guard when you pull him down for a kiss and that intermingle taste of himself and your mouth hooks him.

Donatello

Listen I’m gonna catch flack maybe for this but Don’s the first out of his brothers who actually goes all the way with his s/o like fully

And it happens in the truck and it’s so unplanned because neither him or you expected the drive to end like this.

It’s a midnight roadtrip that takes the two of you through the more rural side of NY. This is Donnie’s way of clearing his head m, he loves driving so when he adds you to the equation it’s even more perfect.

The trucks been parked for a bit now and it’s not uncommon for y’all to makeout and be all lovey with one another

But on this particular night, the powers that be have you right on Donnie’s lap and that sweet makeout has turned a little more scandalous than usual.

Donnie’s no even sure to this day how it escalated to the degree of pants being pushed down and underwear disappearing but it happens and soon enough with each other’s consent to progress he’s inside of you and your running the show cause he’s terrified he’ll mess up or cum way too fast.

Surprisingly enough it goes really well, With minimal to no hiccups, the most being Donnie rubbing a little too hard on your sensitive nub/tip. He manages to last a decent amount of time (probably doing complex equations in his head to distract himself)

The aftermath is a little awkward although you’re both all shy smiles with “was that good?” “Did you like it?” etc and Donnie is gonna have to sneak his way into the bathroom once he’s home cause there’s a mess of stains on his pants.

Michelangelo

Also unplanned, more so literally an accident

It’s not the full experience of going all the way

Cause Mikey and you are hooked on kissing and pawing but it never truly escalated further than that

Until today of course

It’s the usual heated makeout session but your both on his bed, there’s music playing and the two of you progressively get bolder

The best way to describe it is basically dry humping. Dont tell me that wouldn’t be the way it goes down with him.

He feels you grind against him as the two of your feverishly kiss and Mikey’s already feeling a little too hard. Almost unvonsciously you both rub against one another, each grind and grip and kiss making the two of your too warm. Before you know it your both pressing your forheads together, thrusting against one another.

The first time you hear Mikey moan makes you moan right back against him, that alone causes his hips to stutter. It’s his ‘ohmygod’ that you basically swallow that makes you grip him so close to you, the trembling of your body as you muffle a long moan against his lips and Mikey cums, hard, in his shorts to the feel of your shaking figure shooting all that delicious oxytocin all over your body

You’re both so hazy and weightless when you come down from it. Mikey’s sheepish but tired smile so adorable, you two can’t seem to find a reason to disentangle from one another

Raphael

Raph is actually super Nervous™️ because he’s got a pretty big idea that things are gonna get heated cause you’ve been pretty vocal about it

But alas this boy has got some major body issues (they all do but it do be hitting him hard when he with you) cause you’re so perfect and pretty and he doesn’t want to harm a hair o your head

And for a huge FLIRT™️ he does get all shook up about not being able to deliver the goods, but alas you are there to encourage reaffirm and gas the shit out of him.

So naturally you make the first move and trust me he is so happy you did cause he was gonna pass out.

It goes down while he’s at your place and y’all watching a movie and for the past half hour you’ve been making cartography on his thigh and Raph honestly can’t even explain the first five minutes of this movie because he’s been on cloud nine since you started

You snuggle up closer to his massive frame and when you explore his inner thigh and press your lips to his neck, Raph is sure that he’s going to combust. You linger at the hem of his shorts and ask him if you can and Raph is embarrassed with how quickly he nods.

Raph seriously doesn’t understand how a simple movement like that (which he himself had done countless times) is just ten times hotter when it’s you. The softness of your hand gripping his already hard member and the way you bite your lip at the sensation of how thick he is

Raph sighs against your temple, he gets such a head rush with the first few strokes. Pride flows through him when he feels you struggle to jack him off one handed. But that quickly melts into shyness when you push his shorts down enough for you to be able to wrap another hand around his thick member.

There isn’t much of a hiccup, mostly that Raph barely makes a coherent sentence enough to warn you that he’s cumin, so there’s a mess and you know there’s no way your gonna get those stains off your couch.

He almost gets hard again when he catches you licking your fingers, giving him a look that puts him out of this realm of existence

[theseerasures]

While you're doing reactions, if you're up for it, how are you feeling about all the finale predictions you made on March 23? By my count, you scored pretty well!

hooooooo boy (the alluded post, for those just catching up)

how i feel about my predictions is that...you’re right and i scored pretty well, but much like the characters doing right in the episode itself, it didn’t matter. part of the reason why the finale made me feel so much--why i loved it, despite still being emotionally hungover from ugly affect--is because i WAS right, but i was so often right but wrong on a smaller scale, or right but wrong because i completely misunderstood the overall thematic stakes, or in one case right but in such a phenomenally cruel and roundabout way that i’m still reeling from it.

more detailed breakdown under the cut (as in “let’s unpack this,” and as in “i have an emotional breakdown”):

WHERE I WAS MOSTLY RIGHT

Team Green, Yang, the non-Robyn Happy Huntresses, Klein and the non-combatant Schnees were gimmes from the beginning, even the ones of whom we didn’t have visual confirmation by the end of Worthy.

Pietro and Maria are still MIA so i’m putting them here, but...Winter’s gonna have to tell Pietro, when he shows up again.

Cinder and the Relics i was correct about, but even though i knew going in that she would win i didn’t imagine the scale of her victory. mostly because i thought she might have learned some self-discipline and just skedaddled with the Relics in an attempt to trap as many people as possible in superhell, but a) she didn’t, and b) she won without needing to.

Salem, Watts, and Ironwood are where i predicted, but i think part of me really bought into the fan theory that maybe Salem would want to keep Atlas around. both Watts and Ironwood lasted much longer through the episode than i expected because i was working from that assumption, but with the direction the episode actually took it makes perfect sense that they exited the stage as Atlas fell--they are, after all, twin architect-destroyers of Atlas. brains and brawn.

Nora ended up in Vacuo, but she’s...uh, not happy about it. not that i expected her to be happy, but this is much much worse. og JNPR is now JUST Renora, and much as i love freewheeling modular megazord JNPR, that’s gonna hit like a truck. last time they lost someone Renora were consciously trying to play supportive teammate to Jaune, who’d just lost his partner, and Nora especially also had to talk Ren off the edge with the Kuroyuri stuff. i expect they’ll swap the dynamic this time, especially since Nora was already planning to go all independent woman before this.

Qrow, Robyn, and the AceOps are stranded, but in transit and not in Mantle, because Mantle the place is no more. and Vine is dead. the reason i posited that the AceOps might be split up was so they could find their team dynamic after it’s been unsettled, and...well. having one of them do a heroic sacrifice should do a similar trick. because i didn’t think Atlas would fall on Mantle i thought Qrow and Robyn (particularly Robyn) would get more to do, but both of them are pretty much exactly in the same place they were in at the beginning of the season: trapped in a cramped environment, cut off from the people they love and uncertain what happened to them, and unable to contribute in a way that they would consider meaningful. i’m guessing we won’t check back in with this crew for a while, but if we do it’ll be interesting to see if the Qrow and Robyn dynamic changes--like, if he has to be the one to talk her down from cabin fever and despair. (before he finds out that he was the one who should have been despairing all along.)

WHERE I WAS MOSTLY WRONG

Neo is in superhell. i had put her in Atlas because i’d overestimated Cinder’s ability to play the long game, but what the show ultimately doubled down on was that Cinder remains at heart a petty and impatient opportunist, and that’s where she’s most effective. which i dig! i dig that she has not so much improved (in means or ends) so much as learned to hold the beneficial and detrimental parts of herself farther and farther apart, because in the end they’re all the same parts, and because presumably she’ll end up starfishing out so much (who knew the way she took care of Winter’s death pigeons was foreshadowing?) that she breaks in two. and i dig Neo in superhell without Cinder, because it’ll be our first chance to see Neo not working for anyone outside of that one time she fought Cinder. if superhell does end up being part afterlife, she might also get some closure with the Torchwick stuff.

Jaune being in superhell points to it being part afterlife, because the chance for HIM to get some closure is also right there. that was always the case, but the reason i made the prediction i did was because i assumed that Jaune would remain the person he has been this whole season--this stolid, clueless but incredibly effective supporting leader. having a Jaune who is at the top of his game meet up with Pyrrha again is obviously appealing, especially to me, a person who scribbles misshapen hearts labeled “Arkos = 5evr” on all my notebooks, but at the time i didn’t think it was necessary to his story...and then the story dramatically shifted his character and threw all my carefully hedged bets off (which is something we’ll also get to with...later).

having a Jaune who has just effectively EUTHANIZED someone meet up with Pyrrha again isn’t just appealing--it’s vital. and it’s vital because the exact parameters of how and why Jaune ended up having to kill Penny is a point-for-point echo and escalation of the way the Amber to Pyrrha transfer was supposed to go. last time Jaune Arc was party to a Maiden transfer process he had no idea what was going on, and he tried to intervene when he worked out that whatever Oz was doing was going to hurt Pyrrha, and that however minute thing contributed to Pyrrha’s death and the Fall of Beacon. this time it’s not just that he knows what’s going on and the stakes of it. it’s not even just that he is the Ozpin operating the Aura Transfer machine. it is that there is no machine--there is just him, holding the knife. he knows the Amber better than the Pyrrha this time, and this time the Amber is his friend, and still whole, and choosing. not just consenting, but asking him. trusting him. so he carries it out. the old Maiden dies, and like Ozpin he dies shortly after, but not before he watches the new Maiden fail.

but he does prevent history from repeating, because a new Maiden is created, and she gets to live. and Cinder Fall has made him a murderer on top of everything else, but she WILL remember him, now.

there are other people i was wrong about, but that’s...for later.

WHERE I WAS RIGHT AND IT DIDN’T MATTER

Ruby, Blake and Weiss are all in superhell, so on paper i was right, but...well. sing it if you know the words. the reason i’m putting them in their own section is because it’s not just that they fell and didn’t jump like i thought; it’s that they would not have jumped, and that changes everything. you know how i realized that we would lose everyone, and not by choice? it was Weiss. it was when Weiss said we have to do this for Yang. Jaune had reminded Nora of what was priority one minutes before, but the implications of that didn’t sink in for me until Weiss confirmed it. they PLANNED for this. not just the eventuality where they would have to die, but the one where they’d have to watch everyone else die and do nothing except keep going.

which...has implications. the best way to read this--and i think we’re all dying for some good news--is that even if it certainly does not feel that way, RWBY was able to snatch a partial victory from Salem’s claws. they lost the Relics, but they got the Maiden powers away, and most importantly: they saved Atlas and Mantle. by the time Jaune intervened Grand Central was empty. there was no one left to evacuate. they didn’t get everyone, but they got a lot. even before Cinder intervened so catastrophically they knew how many things could go wrong, so they made a plan, and largely stuck to it. on a purely material level they only lost one thing vital to the war effort--the Staff. but they got everyone else out, which was priority one. the show in general and this arc in particular has emphasized that our heroes don’t think they should be exceptionalized, that they’ll fight tooth and nail to make sure everyone is given the treatment and respect they deserve, and they’ve made good on that. they’re Huntresses, and Huntresses be thou for the people. they chose, and they won what mattered to THEM.

but on the flip side: they chose, and there’s no way to read this choice as anything but a compromise...and a very Atlesian one at that. when confronted with calculus similar to the one JYR faced after they lost Oscar in War, our heroes chose...the opposite. one, then three, then four, then five, then six for the many. what was that number compared to two entire cities’ worth of people, especially when they’re the ones who signed up for this? i’m not trying to take this down the slippery slope where our heroes are no better than the dictator they just dethroned, because when the time came for sacrifice they chose themselves first. but it remains a sacrifice, which means that when the time came to test the hard moral limit they set for themselves, they...moved. they decided ahead of time that some risks aren’t worth taking. that this is not a situation where everyone wins, so they had to go for the next best thing, then the next best thing after that, and so on. i’m honestly not sure where it points to yet, except my usual refrain that this show is a lot less didactic than it seems, but...yeah. this is going to lead to some invigorating discussions in-universe.

and maybe it’ll start with this: that Jaune and Weiss--the two who had to verbally advocate for leaving the fallen behind--fell last of all, which means they had to watch everyone else go first. and the last person they saw was the same person. Weiss, who executed the plan to brilliant perfection, saw the past--the first family she ever had--streaking after her in an endless void, forsaking the priorities they all agreed upon, for her. Jaune, who followed the plan to execution and broke a part of himself, saw the new Maiden he crowned, backlit and pulled away by the bright future that he ensured was possible, but can no longer access.

QUEENMAKER

i’m starting with Penny, because Penny came first. there has already been a ton of discussion on the ways that she’ll come back, and while i absolutely agree that she will, for now i am not so much interested in that as i am in eulogizing this Penny. the Penny we had just now, not identical but continuous with the Penny we had before that, in the same way that everyone is not identical but continuous with who they were in the past. the Penny who IS dead, her eventual resurrection notwithstanding.

because she DID die, and her death matters. that’s the thing about the deaths in this season, and it furthers my point re: RWBY’s presumed didacticism--the show’s treatment of death has changed as our heroes have changed. it is no longer (and never was) as simple as “death and sacrifice are always senseless waste,” and more something like...”death has to matter, and we will give it meaning.” Hazel and Vine sacrificed themselves, and the fact both resulted in a “positive” outcome (more lives saved) does not make the deaths any less tragic. but neither should the tragedy of it take away from the fact that they saved lives. what separates our heroes from a Salem or a James Ironwood even now is that they recognize the importance of grievable life even as they accept inevitable death, that what is worth it all about preserving life is not to make sure that lives go on forever, but that lives have meaning and are remembered, that when you’re gone the people who are still here respect you enough to carry that meaning with them. it’s a tenuous balance to walk, but all the more important for that reason.

Penny--though her death can and will be reversed--is much the same. in every arc there has been a Game of Three Maidens (which i guess would make shogi the better metaphor and not chess because--what AM i on about), and in every Game there has been sacrifice. and i thought that would encompass Winter, here. we’d get away with it not being literal death, since Fria already took care of that, but she would be trapped on the other side of the gate--in pretty much the exact same position James Ironwood ended up in the episode itself, actually. it just seemed obvious: she’s the decoy, the one who missed the call by inches, the last revealed defector when there still was an Atlas from which to defect. all of it pointed to Winter’s story ending with one last delay barring her from salvation, of her finally being too late...

and well. i WASN’T wrong in the broad strokes, but first there was Penny Polendina. Penny could have let Jaune try to save her and Weiss die for her, but she knew she had to make a different choice to save as many lives as possible. so she offered herself up as the sacrifice instead. last week i waxed prolonged poetic about how Winter defected so recently, how it has been just IronwoodandWinter for so long, how Winter doesn’t have a team and only the healing shreds of a family, how no one would think to look for her...and then Penny did. you were my friend. (given Winter’s rough age and the hazy creation dates for the PENNY Project, it’s possible that Winter is Penny’s OLDEST friend.) Penny thought of Winter as she was dying, thought about the good Winter could do if Winter had her powers, believed in Winter, and in doing so, saved Winter’s life before anyone else’s.

she ceded the spotlight to Winter in this last episode, but this season as a whole belongs to Penny Polendina--the myriad ways she creates herself, the ways she defends her self-creation, ultimately culminating in her new body, created by no one but herself. but for her final act the Maiden of Creation did something different and no less miraculous: i thought of you. a thought was all it took.

she created someone else.

KINGSLAYER | THE MAIDEN THAT WAS PROMISED

the thing about Winter is that she came first.

no, i’m serious. i checked the fairy tale and everything--Winter came first. as the Wizard’s first visitor she encouraged him to reflect and meditate, and when probed about why she was here at all, she answered: i am waiting for my sisters. Spring and Summer have to wait, too, of course, but. Winter was the first.

Jacques and Willow named their firstborn Winter. it is not the way this story begins, but it is certainly is one of them, because the story begins with Winter, and Winter begins the story--a new retelling, a new cycle of heroism. we’ve since been introduced to other characters in that indeterminate age group between RWBY and STRQ, but Winter--by virtue of being Weiss’ older sister--anchors herself to the new generation in a way those others (even Cinder, who comes closest) do not. she started things, in the mythical emblematic way that this show likes to move, and the way she started things--the way she MADE herself start things, thanks to the house she grew up in--was with love, and protection. she took care of Weiss and laid the groundwork for the person Weiss is today, and conversely: she took care of Weiss, and through Weiss, laid the groundwork for herself and how to take care of everyone. so eventually the steel thread she tied to Weiss she also linked to Whitley, to Penny, to Marrow, to all the people they love, and on and on it goes. Winter loved Weiss, so she made herself learn how to love Weiss, and so when i say she started things what i mean is she started family. a new home, for a new generation of the orphaned.

Winter came first. but as the show demonstrates time and again, especially with Winter: first does not mean best. because being first also means you’re the prototype, a volatile thing that must be tested and tempered and then discarded to make way for what comes after, what gets improved. and it is THIS part of being first that Winter has internalized most of all. Winter, the first Maiden, taught the Wizard peace and prepared the earth so that her sisters could grow and foster and harvest the life within it; Winter, the first Schnee, laid the groundwork in her siblings, but did not wait for them. and let herself fallow in the process. she left, and every time they tried to follow or stay with her she sent them away. (she keeps sending them away; even after defecting and taking down Ironwood, the first thing she says to JNPER is go.) Winter laid the first stone in the foundation, but she cannot take credit for the home her family turned it into, for all the ways it has flourished, because she willfully absented herself of that (birth)right.

and the reason she did this was very simple: she was afraid. she could not bear the thought that while she had to learn how to love she made mistakes, the idea that instead of preparing the earth she might have poisoned the well. so she ran. she turned her face away so she would not have to look, so they would not look to her. she left, and every time one of her siblings superseded her after that, every time she was made to be their Esau--passed over--it just seemed to confirm that she was right to leave. look how well they’ve all done without her.

in the stories, eldest siblings aren’t here to win. they’re here to be made an example of, and Winter...had resigned herself to that. she was prepared to be left behind for good by all the people who have outpaced her.

but then there was Penny Polendina. Penny didn’t follow her, or try to stay; Penny came back for her. Penny remembered Winter when all Winter wanted was to be forgotten, because she’d gotten it in her head that it was what she deserved for all the things she’d done or enabled or failed to do. why did Penny remember Winter? because you were my friend. there is no divine complexity to it, nothing for Winter to fall hopeless short of. there is only the fact that Winter gave Penny something, made something together with Penny, even as she was trying her hardest not to, for fear that she would create something terrible. and this does not take away from all the ways Winter did fall short, but it is still SOMETHING. and it is enough.

it was your power, after all. Penny means the Maiden powers, but she also means THIS Maiden’s power: the power to create. you made this home, Penny is saying to Winter, you should get to reap its fruit, even if you weren’t around for the labor. all you have to do is say yes.

this was a gift. she says yes. she accepts, because in the end Winter Schnee loves her family more than she hates herself.

but then--

(a gift for what? Winter will ask herself wretchedly later, after she has failed in the two tasks she thinks Penny set for her.)

the thing about Winter is that she came first. she taught Weiss everything she knows, and she was so busy doing that she never had the time to show Weiss everything she feels. so in the end what Weiss never predicted was that for all of her team’s painful planning, for all of her own pained enforcement of that plan...none of it was a match for her sister. that when the time came it was would be WINTER who defaults to the absolute ideal of “no one gets left behind,” of “every life” meaning every life, priority one be damned.

or that Winter, in trying to choose both, in finally and fiercely trying, with surely enough power to make a difference, would fail.

what are you doing? Winter heard as she watched Weiss fall into nothingness. my life doesn’t matter.

so here, then, is the story of Winter in The Final Word: a girl returns home after having left it, but in this version it is the home who has changed and the girl who has not. and from this both are unmade. but she gets to live, because she was invited back home. and she gets to go through the portal as its last passenger, into the Promised Land.

and she is still the Maiden of Creation. even after all this, THAT is still her task. to build a refuge for her people, to collect the broken strands of the family she began and her siblings continued and expanded and reinforced, and gather them up again into a new home. it will be impossible, but at the same time: she has done this before.

and this time, she will wait for her sisters.

(a gift for what? for nothing, would be the answer. gifts aren’t FOR anything. they’re gifts.)

[xpeachesncream]

acquainted | eleven

> series masterlist | series playlist <

summary: the biggest goal of a grad student is to get through school in one piece - no petty drama involved, no sweating over the little things. however, that plan almost always never follows through. sometimes, you can’t help but fall into the most unthinkable, unexpected traps and learn the hard way. like, exhibit a: being unable to resist your engaged, substitute teacher, kim seokjin.

pairing: jungkook x reader x engaged!teacher!seokjin

genre: grad school au, student life au | fluff, angst, smut

words: 3.0k

warnings: cussing, mature language, soft sex with seokjinnie

tags: @laurynne5 @yiyi4657 @miinoongi @teamtardis-notdead @bluesharksandfish@photographic-girl @yonkoghan @moonchild1​ @thebeebi​ (pls msg me if you would like to be added to the taglist!)

Los Angeles.

You haven't been to Los Angeles in years, probably the last time being a family trip to Disneyland when you were younger. It felt surreal being here, but there was no turning back. You were here and you were going to be spending the weekend with Jin. You had simply told Jungkook, Jimin and Taehyung you were going to visit home to be with your family, Ryujin obviously already knowing what the truth was. She was worried, and begged for you to be careful first and foremost. But, she knew she couldn't stop you. After all, this was your decision and your decision only. If there were any repercussions, that was all for you to deal with.

LAX was crowded as hell, your Uber taking almost 30 minutes to leave the airport itself. Jin had insisted on picking you up, but you felt bad that he would have to make the journey being that he already paid for your flight over. It was nearing 8pm, and the ride was still going to take close to an hour since Jin's hotel was in Anaheim. You almost fall asleep on the way over, exhaustion from work and classes hitting you like a truck. You were just ready to get in bed and cuddle.

You finally arrive after what seems like forever, immediately making your way up to the room number he sent you. After knocking a few times, he swings the door open, revealing him in a simple white tee and black sweats. His hair wasn't gelled and messily fell to its sides, strands almost poking his eyes.

"Hey." You smile at him, but he says nothing and instead engulfs you in a tight hug.

"Finally." He speaks up, his hands gently rubbing your back. When he pulls away, he cups your face and places a soft kiss on your lips.

"I know, t'was a long journey over from the airport."

"Sorry, love." You set your duffle aside against the wall, observing Jin's huge suite. There was a small kitchenette against the wall after the initial entry walkway. A small couch sat in the middle, facing towards the bed, with a coffee table in front and a love seat to the side. The bed itself was about queen sized and faced the wall that was entirely windows, if not draped with the curtains. In front of the bed was a drawer with a tv and a desk next to it. The view straight ahead was Disneyland, where you were sure you'd catch the fireworks from where you were at. Off to the side were double doors that led to the bathroom.

"Jeez, do CFOs always get this kind of treatment?" He chuckled as he plopped onto the bed, one heel planted on the bed with the other leg falling off the edge.

"Mm, maybe?"

"Damn, sign me up." You say as you hang your jacket in the closet next to his.

"Hungry?"

"Starving."

"I ordered you some food." He nodded towards the desk.

"Thank you." You give him a toothless smile before unzipping your duffle to get yourself washed up in the bathroom first. You sat your toiletries against the counter and threw on an oversized shirt and unmatching fuzzy socks, not really giving a damn how you looked right now. It wasn't too cold in the room, and honestly, you were just more worried about getting into something comfy after the journey you've had. You fixed your hair as you were exiting the bathroom, Jin smiling as he catches sight of you walking over to your food. "Yes?" You ask, your eyebrow cocked up.

"You're cute."

"What's wrong with it?" You look at yourself up and down, noticing he's eyeing your socks.

"Nothing." He shakes his head. "Eat your food so you can come over here and join me." You open the lid to the room service platter, seeing steak, mashed potatoes and veggies, along with a side of cheesecake for dessert. Shit, if this is the treatment you were going to get, you couldn't be mad at all. You quietly cut your steak and begin to eat, rolling your chair slightly away from the desk to watch the movie Jin has on. Inception. It was one of your favorite movies, and a movie you definitely don't get tired of watching even after the numerous times you've done so. You're so invested in it that you don't even realize you had cleared out your entire plate without saying a word. He too was super invested that you thought it was cute how his bug eyes kept focus on the tv the entire time.

"Fuck, that was so good." You say before sipping on your water. "Thank you." He smiles toothlessly before patting the space in between his legs.

"Do you want the A/C off?"

"It's fine." You climb onto the bed and in between his legs. He sits up against the headboard, one leg still propped up while the other drooped over the edge. He begins to massage your shoulders, causing you to shut your eyes at how relaxed you're starting to feel.

"Good?" He asks, as you tilt your head forward and nod.

"Mhm." He chuckles, beginning to place gentle kisses on the nape of your neck. You were getting into the massage, slightly feeling yourself getting turned on by his touch, until the fireworks began to pop off in your view. You opened your eyes and ran straight to the window, Jin chuckling behind you. "Oh shit! Oh my god! It's so pretty!" You stand in front of the window, watching the fireworks show, instantly missing Disneyland and its glory. Jin wraps his arms around your neck, planting a kiss on the side of your head as you rest your hands on his arms.

"What do you wanna do tomorrow?"

"That depends on when you're free, right?" You chuckle, keeping your eyes on the show.

"I'm free by 3:30. I'll come back here though, then we can get going to wherever you'd like."

"Anywhere?" You cocked your head to the side to look at him as he nods.

"Just say the word and we'll go. Except, there is one restaurant I wanna bring you to for dinner. That's the only exception." You nod.

"Fair enough."

Sooner or later, the fireworks are done for the night and Seokjin is on top of you, planting kisses along your neck and jawline as your hands grip onto his hair. For some reason, tonight feels a little different than the usual fuck session you have with Jin. He has never treated you wrong or made you feel like he was just using you, but tonight his emotions were at an all-time high and you felt it in the way that he kissed you, hugged you, touched you. His touch was gentle and soft, and this was escalating into something sweeter than the usual, rough, filthy sex you both end up having. He's removing your clothing, marveling at your already exposed breasts underneath the shirt. He lets out a breathy moan before he removes his shirt and sweats, bearing some of his weight as he lowers his body onto you once more. The kisses are affectionate and slow. Your tongue is dancing with his, making you moan into the kiss the more it deepens. He removes his hardened member from the barriers of his boxers, pumping it a few times before he taps it against your wet pussy. You hiss while he watches you plead with your eyes, begging for him to enter without saying a word. He slowly inserts his tip, letting out a small moan as he feels his cock being enveloped by your walls, coating him nicely and warmly. Your heels are planted onto the bed as he rolls his hips into yours, deeply thrusting slowly into your core. His hand is gripping your thigh every time he rolls into you, his other hand gripping the top of the pillow below your head. Your hips begin to mimic his motions, causing you to lightly arch your back at how good it feels to have him slowly bury himself in you like this. You moan against his mouth, his eyes never leaving yours as he watches your facial expressions change.

"Gonna cum." You spit out as your hips are continuing to work into his. You grip onto his chin, bringing his lips down onto yours as your aggressively kiss him and push your tongue into his mouth. He moans as he slightly picks up the pace, causing you to break the kiss. "Ohhhh, shit. Jin." You bite onto your bottom lip, feeling your high escalating until it pushes you over the edge. "Ohhhhhhhgod, fuck." You groan, gripping onto the sheets as your back arches and your body slightly trembles.

"Shit." He says, your reaction enough to send him over. You watch as he shuts his eyes as he buries his head in the crook of your neck, thrusts hard and slow to let him ride out the rest of the high. He stays there for a minute, allowing you to massage your hands into his hair and plant kisses onto his cheek. He finally rolls over, pulling the sheets over your bodies while you both are trying to regulate your breathing. He doesn't say anything as he pulls you onto his chest, caressing your arm as you get comfortable listening to his heartbeat against your ear. "Y/N."

"Hm?"

"I'm happy you're here with me."

"Me too." You say softly, his hands gently working their way in your hair.

Before Jin left early this morning, you remember him placing a kiss on your temple before whispering that he'd be back soon. You had slept in for a little longer, getting up close to lunch to see Jin's note on the night stand.

Order what you want, charge it to the room.

You smirk to yourself, knowing damn well you still wouldn't order a ton because you'd feel guilty. However, it's no lie that having the option to was kind of nice. You get washed up and throw on some baggy sweats and a crop tank while waiting for your breakfast platter and fruits to arrive to the room. You still had a couple of hours before Jin would be back, so after eating, you take the shuttle over to Downtown Disney to explore a little bit and get some air. Obviously, the souvenirs were quick to catch your attention, with the added bonus of Starbucks being right next door to the World of Disney shop. You feel yourself getting into your feelings because how cute would it be to spend time with Jin at Disneyland?

Then you remember that you aren't a couple.

You still don't really know what this is. Somehow, you're hoping that's what he'll help resolve later tonight at dinner. It's either you go or Grace goes, right?

After spending money on souvenirs for yourself and your apartment, you happily take the shuttle back with a bag of beignets in your hand. Jin would be back in the next hour, so you figured you could start getting yourself ready for the rest of the day. You throw on a brown ribbed bodycon dress with black knee high boots and a leather jacket. It was a simple outfit, but it made enough of a statement that you hoped Jin liked the way you dressed.

And he does. He truly does. It's probably one of the things he really likes about you - the fact that you dress up even if it's for an ice cream run. You still looked cute and you put in the effort. He thought it was sexy and attractive as hell. He walked into the room seeing you dressed, fixing the remaining touches to your hair. You spotted him through the bathroom mirror standing there, looking at you with so much admiration. He began to loosen his tie as he walked towards you, wrapping his arms around your waist before planting a kiss on your head.

"You look beautiful." He says softly, making you smile into the kiss he planted on your cheek. "Let me change, then we can head out, okay?"

"Sounds good." You respond as you make your way out into the room. You made sure to text Ryujin back, letting her know the weekend had been going well so far and that she shouldn't worry too much. It didn't take long for Seokjin to get himself into different clothes, him donning a sweater, slacks and boots. It wasn't long before you were hopping into his rental coming out of the valet and driving towards Santa Monica. He had fulfilled your wish of walking around, shopping and spending time at the pier. You were able to catch Jin's goofy side along with his infamous dad jokes, especially playing the pier games just to win you a small prize. You were also able to hear his voice and how he too liked to sing. He had a very strong voice, and differed from Jungkook's, however, they both sounded completely angelic and both were soothing to listen to. You were seeing a completely different side of Seokjin - not the one in class as your professor, not the one you'd see strictly in bed, but an entirely different side of Seokjin that seemed comfortably himself.

For dinner, you two were seated in a rather fancy, dimly-lit prime rib restaurant. Seokjin hopped out of his car at the valet and took you straight to the host to get seated. Two glasses of the finest red wine that they had were poured while you both waited for the food to arrive. You looked at him over your glass as you took a small sip of the smooth, bitter red wine, slightly smiling to yourself at how incredibly delicious his side-profile was.

"What?" He chuckled, his chin resting on his firmly clasped hands.

"You're just really handsome."

"Yeah?" He smiles, his dimples beneath his eyes making an appearance. "Thank you."

"You didn't have to take me here." You looked around, a little worried about how expensive this place was.

"I didn't have to, but I wanted to."

"What's the occasion?" You asked, not really sure how to ask the question of what now? Where do we go with this? You watch as he takes a sip of his wine before he takes another look at you and licks his lips.

"You."

"What about me?"'

"I'm just happy we got to do this. And uh, I know our situation isn't the best but I want to reassure you that this is where I wanna be."

"But--" He already knew what you were going to say. You looked at this left hand, noticing that he hadn't worn his ring in such a long time. You don't even remember the last time you've seen it.

"When we get back, I'm going to break things off with Grace." He flatly says. "Look, I-I-" He paused and sighed. "First and foremost, me and Grace just haven't worked out for awhile so this is what I have to do for myself, regardless of our situation." He asks for your hand across the table, which you gladly give. You watch as he gently caresses the top of your hand with his thumb before looking back up at him. "I'm in love with you, Y/N. And I know where I wanna be. I wanna do this with you. But you know I would never force you into something that you don't want, or aren't comfortable with." You knew what he was hinting at. You knew he was talking about Jungkook, but he didn't know how to straight up ask you what your plans were with him. This was all new to him.

"I want this with you too." Is all you respond with, because it is true. You've wanted this for awhile, no matter how many times you've tried to push it aside and suppress your feelings. No matter how many times you've promised yourself and Ryujin you'd keep your distance. Jin was what you wanted. He brought your hand up to his lips, planting a soft kiss on the top before gently caressing it once more. The food arrived, the waitress placing the plates down in front of you two. The rest of dinner is a little quieter, you and Jin chiming in every now and then about the food or about plans for the upcoming week, how his conference was, etc.

The last stop was the Griffith Observatory, both you and Jin just wanting to be in each other's presence while looking at the view of Los Angeles in the night time. You were just happy, honestly. Both of you. You didn't think it could get to this point, yet here you were. You didn't have to hide anymore, nor did you have to suppress those feelings. You could just welcome it.

And so tonight is the last night until the next time that you could be in his arms, cuddling and taking in his warmth. You couldn't wait until you could do this again. You both got ready for bed, turned off the lights and cuddled in the dark, the only lights coming in were from the city lights outside. Jin held you closely as part of your body rested on his. His hand caressed your back, drawing small circles every now and then while you kissed him slowly and passionately. It didn't escalate into anything more no matter how deep or intense the kisses became, because all you wanted was to kiss him, take him in. Be in his arms.

Be still.

The next morning comes quick and you really don't wanna fly back home. The flight is only a quick hour back, Jin holding your hand the entire time and pulling you close every moment he could get. Jin has his car parked in the airport lot, which is only a tram ride over and a few steps out of the station. He held your hand as he threw your duffle on the top of his luggage and pushed both belongings towards his car.

"Seokjin." You both pull your gaze from each other towards the cars ahead.

Grace.

[the-ghost-of-jason-todd]

aight SO

i finished ep 12 and i've talked about it with a friend, and now i've also taken a look into the tarlos tag to get a sense of what people are saying. i think i'm ready to break this down.

so there are a few big questions about That Scene and the following tarlos interactions. i'll just work through them one at a time. buckle in, this is gonna get long. now without further ado...

1) Was TK lashing out at Carlos at the firehouse in character?

Short answer: yes and no.

Long answer: we've seen TK get physical and even violent before. He literally sought out a bar fight in s1. He nearly got into a fist fight with Judd, too. And did you see the way he was hurling darts after that, when he and Carlos were on their date? This boy is not a stranger to getting physical. There are, however, a few major differences between those scenes and this one with Carlos.

One. The bar fight was premeditated, while his fight with Carlos was not. Why is this important? Because it means that TK has shown some measure of restraint in the past. He managed to stay present during what I would call the 'trigger' of the bar fight episode, and saved his physical response for a later time.

Two. His altercation with Judd, on the other hand, was not premeditated. The difference, then, is that Judd was also ready to get physical at the time. With the scene with Carlos, Carlos was trying to remain calm and impartial for most of it, and attempted to de-escalate when TK got violent. The whole thing was driven by TK.

Three. In none of the scenes we've seen before of TK getting violent has his dad's health or safety been threatened. TK's dad is a HUGE part of his life, and he has a LOT of emotional trauma surrounding his relationship with his dad. He's TERRIFIED of losing Owen, because he's nearly lost him so many times before. TK has some MAJOR anxiety about losing people, to the point where he refused to let Carlos into his heart at the beginning of s1. There's also the fact that TK has gone through a lot of trauma in not a lot of time. Even if the show wants us to believe the kidnapping is over, I'm willing to bet that the after-effects are still hitting. For both TK AND Carlos, honestly.

There are also two other lines to consider when we're talking TK's characterization: first, in the episode when Gwyn moves out, and we see her and TK talking, she then calls Owen who asks if TK 'flew off the handle' (i believe that was the wording, correct me if I'm wrong). This is important because we have two people who are VERY close to TK talking about how he reacts to things, the crux of which is that TK gets reactionary. He has high emotional responses and says (or does) things that he doesn't necessarily mean.

Then there's another line that I think is important. This is the one in the crossover episode, when TK tells Buck that he's 'done a lot worse than steal a fire truck'. This one is important because it's TK talking about HIMSELF. We don't have any context for this or what it means, necessarily, but I'm willing to bet from context that he wasn't just talking about ODing.

So with all this in mind... do I think TK was in character? Do I really think TK would do this? Well... it makes sense in the context of TK's story and his arcs and all the scenes we've seen him in so far. But, at the same time, I would definitely have done it differently. It's a thing like... it's not a WRONG answer, but then again, was it really right, either?

2) Was Carlos's reaction to TK lashing out in character?

Short answer: yeah, I think so*.

*though if they don't expand on it I'm gonna have a problem.

Long answer: Carlos, at this point in the story, is dealing with two things that I think impact his emotional landscape a HELL of a lot.

One. His past and his family. He grew up with a man who seems emotionally distant, and it has only VERY RECENTLY started to get better. He felt INCREDIBLY alienated after he came out, and then when he became a cop and he was dealing with his father's silent disapproval. He is always searching for approval and, most likely, affection as well. What this means is that he feels like he constantly needs to prove himself, and bases his self worth on how OTHER people react. If someone reacts badly, that's a mark against himself.

"But Kay," you say, "What about the scene where he made dinner for TK and TK walked out? Carlos didn't blame himself then!"

Which is an interesting point! Carlos didn't put the onus on himself in that scene, he turned it back on TK, calling him 'crazy'. I think that was a secondary coping mechanism, to be honest. He knew he couldn't deal with feeling like he was the one who was wrong AGAIN so he twisted the situation around in his head until it was TK who was 'being crazy'. I've talked about that scene in depth before so I won't do it again, but Carlos's reaction is, I think, indicative of having felt rejection before and trying to protect himself.

Which brings me to number two. The fact that he's nearly lost TK several times already. This plays a HUGE role in how Carlos acts, especially with TK. Carlos has wanted TK LITERALLY from day 1, and since then he's nearly lost him how many times??? Enough, at least, that I'm fairly certain he's now holding on too tight, even when it comes back and hurts him. He just... he seems to have this mentality that if he's in he's ALL in, and he's not allowed to back away or put any distance between them, or else he'll lose TK for real.

Because we've seen TK pull back and get some distance before. We saw TK take a night away after their fight about the farmer's market. Maybe not with the best communication, but TK was angry and he needed space, so he left. When he did that, however, Carlos was convinced that they were breaking up. Like, CONVINCED. You cannot tell me that Carlos didn't think the worst in that moment.

Now why is THIS important? Easy. Because Carlos and TK may be moving forward in their relationship, but they are at a point right now where they react to things in fundamentally different ways. TK kind of bounces between becoming reactionary and going distant (again, we saw this in s2ep8 very clearly), while Carlos has reached a point where he kind of doubles down on holding tightly to TK even when he maybe shouldn't.

Basically, when you boil all this down, Carlos is DESPERATELY trying not to rock the boat, with his parents OR with TK, because he's scared of everything coming apart. And I think that makes sense with this episode.

The problem, then, is that this is a coping mechanism. The narrative has set it up as such. Which means that he's going to have to address it at some point. If he doesn't, I will be FUCKING PISSED, believe you me.

3) Did the narrative address that scene with respect, dignity, and nuance?

Short answer: I DON'T THINK SO.

Long answer: TK is human. He's a recovering addict. He's had problems with feeling numb in the past (that line about how everything is gray), which, I think, makes his feelings just THAT MUCH BIGGER when he does have them. So clearly, he's going to make mistakes. The question then is, was this particular mistake something he's learned from, or was it just used for the drama?

I have two reasons to believe it was the latter rather than the former.

One. Judd's reaction. Judd telling Carlos to get out of the firehouse after TK hit him, as if Carlos was the bad guy in that situation, was dramatic as hell. TK and Carlos are pitted against each other in that moment, and instead of mediating, Judd picked a side. Which is, ironically enough, the first thing that I think was NOT in character in that scene.

Judd, we know, is a bit of a hot-head, but he's also very empathetic. Judd was shown trying to mediate between Billy and Owen the last time the two of them had an episode together, because he understood both sides of the story and he cared for both of them. Why do I think it should have been the same this time? Well, because he loves TK and Carlos BOTH. They were both in the group hug at the hospital after the Ryder's car crash. It wasn't like Carlos stayed back, okay--JUDD CARES FOR BOTH OF THEM. And I think, at that point, that Judd would have seen the fact that TK was spinning out and Carlos was trying to stay objective and known that he needed to de-escalate. It would have been SO EASY to have that line be "Okay, okay, both of you step back and take a breather." He could EASILY have mediated. But he didn't. And that was a specific choice that leans more toward drama than anything else.

Which brings me to number two. The fact that they don't talk about it on screen. We had a hand-wavey 'we agreed no apologies' and a hot and heavy make-out scene instead. The writers wanted the drama of the two of them being in bed together while the fire started, and in order to do that they sacrificed the screen time it would have taken to actually have them have a conversation. Because, again, it would have been SO EASY to write them actually talking about it. They've done it before! After their fight about the farmer's market and Carlos's parents, the two of them have a WONDERFUL conversation. Why then and not now? Well, to make the fire more dramatic, to up the stakes one more time.

So no. I don't think there was any respect. I don't think there was any nuance. TK made a mistake, because he's human and he has some problems with emotional regulation, but there were little to no repercussions for it where there really should have been. There was no respect coming from the firefam for Carlos, either. There were no apologies, or further comments, or anything. And honestly... this season has done a lot toward making me feel like they don't give a shit about violence. Judd hitting that kid in the bear trap in the wild fire episode, Judd hitting the drunk driver who drove him off the road, Judd punching Billy when he thought he was framing Owen, and now TK hitting Carlos... all with no repercussions or apologies or even discussions about them... it's not a good look.

And there you have it. The writing makes sense. It does. But it's also really clear that the writers' priorities have changed. I really, honestly feel like the show has lost something since season 1. There's been a massive tonal shift, and I don't like it. The fact that we keep having Event after Event with no reprieve, have sacrificed conversations and interpersonal relationships for Drama, and have started killing and maiming characters with wild abandon, sometimes with seemingly no reason... it's all just a Lot. I have enjoyed watching season 2, but it's not sticking the same way as season 1 did. I'm not letting myself get attached to characters at this point because clearly we're not in a found family show anymore. I don't care about them the same way I did before. I can’t bring myself to do it when it’s becoming clear that we’re not going to slow down and actually process anything anytime soon.

[strangerthingsharrington]

Can’t Fight This Feeling

-24-

Steve held my hand tightly as we climbed up the escalator slowly. My body had had enough. I was exhausted, tired...just drained.

After reaching the top, I stopped and looked behind us to the others in the party moving slowly up the steps. Max came up first with tears streaming down her face, which still bore a shocked expression.

She looked to me and her lip trembled. I let go of Steve’s hand and walked quickly to her wrapping my arms around her in a tight hug which she reciprocated. My tears overflowed as Max let out a sob.

“It’s okay,” I told her quietly, closing my eyes, “it’s gonna be okay, Max. He saved all of us. Billy is a hero.”

She continued to sob into my shoulder, I leaned my head against the side of hers and opened my eyes, seeing the party around us with sad, solemn looks on their faces.

Lucas stepped up and put his hand on Max’s shoulder, “Come on, Max,” he said gently, “let’s go outside.”

Max slowly removed her arms from my waist and looked at me, I pushed some of her hair behind her ear and smiled sadly at her, “We’re gonna get through this, all together. I promise.”

She nodded to me before turning to Lucas and reaching for his hand.

Steve had come up and stood next to me, he put his arm around my shoulder, “Come on,” he said quietly.

I nodded, turning with him to walk towards the doors to go outside and away from the devastation.

I could hear the guards yelling at one another back in the food court. I could smell the fire burning. I was trying to think about how I’d explain marks on me to my mom when I saw her.

Most importantly, I needed to figure out how to get Dustin and Erica back from the Hilltop.

Steve pushed open the mall door for us and the fresh air hit me like a ton of bricks. Even though it hadn’t been long since I was last outside, it felt like an eternity especially after being that close to fire and smoke.

There were police, ambulance and fire trucks all coming from what seemed like everywhere trying to park and get into the mall. I wondered if they managed to move the monster out of sight in the food court. I wondered how this story was going to be told to the public.

“You okay?” Steve asked me gently.

I looked up at him and shrugged, “I’ll give you an actual answer tomorrow. I need to get Erica and my brother.”

He nodded, rubbing my arm. He began looking around, hopefully trying to find someone who’s car we could use to get them.

“Louise!”

My eyes went wide and I looked around until I spotted her. My mom.

I let go of Steve’s hand and ran to her and hugged her tightly as the tears began to spill over and down my face.

“Where’s Dusty?” she asked.

I sniffled and pulled away from her, “He’s at the hilltop,” I said with a shuddering breath, “we have to get him.”

She nodded and wrapped her arm around me, I looked behind me to Steve and saw him scanning the crowd. Was he looking for his parents?

I looked around and caught sight of Lucas and Max walking towards his mom, before she began looking around frantically.

“Mrs. Sinclair!” I called to get her attention, “I know where she is, she’s with my brother! I’m going to get them!”

Relief flodded her face and she nodded, “Thank you!” she called before turning her attention back to Lucas.

I looked back to Steve and he was looking down at his shoes.

“Steve!” my mom called to him, he looked up instantly, “Come with us!”

He looked quickly around again before jogging over to us, “Come on, Steve,” she said, looking over his face, “you’re just as much a member of the family as anyone, so let’s go.”

At that, tears fell from Steve’s eyes and he pulled my mom into a hug, “Thanks, Mrs. Henderson.”

They broke apart and she smiled softly at him, “Lets go and get these kids.”

We walked to her car and got in, she questioned what had happened and between Steve and myself we managed to tell her about a fire that had broken out in the mall. Where one of us would falter with the story, the other would step in and continue to spin the lie.

Steve gave directions to my mom, as she told us about how her and Mrs. Sinclair came to find out they hadn’t seen any of us for two days, and that they came to the mall to look for us.

Erica was right, Mrs. Sinclair really did want Erica back for Uncle Jacks party. She went to the Byers house to see if Lucas and Erica might have been there, but obviously the house was empty. She then went to the Wheelers house that was empty, before finally coming to my house. They deducted they hadn’t seen any of the kids in about forty eight hours and thought we might have been at the mall, since that was where we all had been spending most of our time.

“When I pulled up I could see the smoke billowing up,” mom explained, “I was so worried but no one would let me in!” she told us as she parked at the bottom of the hill after Steve told her to take the left, giving her more time to make the turn than what Dustin gave him.

Once the car began slowing down, I hopped out and began running up the hill, with Steve calling out my name behind me.

I just needed to get them back. My legs were burning and I felt like I couldnt breath anymore. But I needed to get them.

“Guys!” I called once I almost reached the top.

“Lou?” I heard Dustin call out.

I reached the top, and bent over trying not to vomit.

“Whoa, Lou, you okay?” Dustin asked me.

I breathed in deeply and stood back up, “Come on,” I said ingorong him, “let’s go.”

“What happened? Is everyone okay?” Dustin asked.

I looked over to him, “The national guard came in, if anyone asks there was a fire at the mall,” I said looking between the two of them.

“Lou, is everyone okay?” Dustin asked again a bit more stern.

“Billy died,” I said quietly.

His eyes went wide, “Holy shit. Are you serious? Is-is Max okay?”

I shook my head, “No,” I answered honestly, “come on,” I said, extending my arm out towards them, “mom drove us, your mom is waiting for you at the mall,” I told Erica.

I turned around just as Steve took the last couple steps to the top of the hill.

“Lou, I would’ve gotten them,” he told me breathlessly, “your legs have to be killing you,” he said when he reached me.

I nodded, not even bothering to deny that fact.

“I just...needed to get them,” I said quietly to him.

He watched hesitantly, before reaching out to me and putting his arm around my shoulder, “Come on, let’s get Erica to her mom and then you need to sleep.”

Without saying another word, I put my arm around Steve’s waist and walked carefully back down the hill with Dustin and Erica in tow.

Steve helped me into the front seat of the car as Dustin and Erica talked to my mom about what they had been up to. Steve got into the backseat right behind me, with Dustin going next to him and Erica behind the drivers side.

Mom drove us quickly to the mall with none of us really talking. I stared out the window, watching as my small town of Hawkins passed me by. A week ago this was my boring town. Nothing exciting ever happened here.

I knew differently. Too much had happened in the town. More than anyone would ever believe.

We got out of the car after reaching the mall and Erica ran back with her mom and Lucas. Robin was at an ambulance with her parents talking, she caught my eye and waved to me before making a phone sign with her hand and mouthing tomorrow at me. I nodded to her before I saw El wrapped in Mrs. Byers arms, as they both cried.

I looked on in confusion, unsure of what had happened since I left.

I looked to Jonathan and Will but Jonathan was already looking back to me.

Glancing quickly around the group, I realized who was missing. Hopper.

‘Where’s Hopper?’ I mouthed.

Jonathan looked to El then back to me before shaking his head softly.

In an instant I understood. Police Chief Hopper didn’t make it from the underground lair. Another victim to the fire at Starcourt, I assumed they would tell everyone.

“LuLu?”

I looked over to my mom who pushed some of the hair that had fallen out of my ponytail behind my ear, “Come on, baby. Let’s get you home and get cleaned up and go to bed.”

I nodded, taking another look at the mall that was still smoking, with police and firefighters around the doors looking in.

I turned and walked back to the car with everyone. Dustin went to the front seat while I went to the back seat, with Steve taking the middle seat so we were next to each other.

We kept our hands wrapped tightly together, and I had my head leaning on his shoulder.

“Steve,” mom asked softly looking into rear view mirror to us, “do you want to stay at our house for the night, or are you heading home?”

I lifted my head up and looked to him, he lowered his head and sighed, “I should go home...my parents might be wondering where I am, and I need the extra key to my car.”

“I can come get you in the morning to pick up your car?” I offered.

He looked down at me with a small smile, “Thank you,” he said softly.

I smiled a little back at him and laid my head back on his shoulder for the rest of the silent drive to his house.

When we pulled up the lights were all off and I felt Steve deflate slightly. I guess neither of his parents stayed up to wait for him. Even though he hadn’t seen either of them in almost forty eight hours at least.

“Are you gonna be able to get in?” I asked as mom put the car in park.

“Yeah,” he answered quietly, “I hid a key outside...not the first time this has happened,” he explained to me.

I nodded solemnly, lifting my head from his shoulder and opening the car door, our hands staying locked together even when getting out the car.

“Thank you, Mrs. Henderson,” he said once he got out of the car, “see ya later, Dustin,” he added before closing the door.

“Call me tomorrow when you’re ready and I’ll come get you, okay?” I asked him.

He nodded before letting go of my hand, only to let his arms go to my waist and pulled me to him, resting his face on the side of my head. My arms laced around his neck and I held him tighlty to me, ignoring the pain going through my arms.

He moved his head back a bit and made eye contact with me. His eye was incredibly swollen, dried blood was still around his nose and mouth. He was tired. But he held my gaze with such a sincerity that everything, for just an instant, felt okay.

He leaned down and lightly pressed his lips to my forehead, kissing me softly for a second.

“I’ll call you tomorrow, Lou,” he whispered, with his lips still pressed against my forehead.

I nodded slightly, “Okay,” I whispered back.

We let each other go and Steve took a few steps backwards towards his house I smiled lightly at him which he reciprocated before turning around and walking up to the front of his house.

I got back into the back seat of the car and watched him go.

“I just wanna make sure he gets in,” mom said quietly.

Steve bent down once he was at his front door and went into a flower pot that was out there, he straightened up and opened the front door a second later. He turned to face the car and brought his hand up in a small wave, before turning and going inside the dark house, closing the door behind him.

Mom started the short drive back home, thankfully leaving us in silence, aside from her oldie music station in the background playing quietly. I think she knew we had a rough little while and didn’t want to pester us. For the moment at least.

Once we were inside our house, that’s when she began her different line of questioning.

“So...why haven’t I heard from you guys for almost two days?” she asked once she closed the front door.

I sighed and turned to face her, “We’re sorry, ma,” I told her, “I’ve been hanging out with Robin and I have this thing with Steve that I’m trying to figure out...Dustin’s been hanging out with the party and talking to Suzie on Cerebro...then we were at the mall and the fire and everything...” I drifted off, looking to Dustin to confirm my answer to her new question.

Dustin nodded quickly to her, “Yeah...we’ve just been hanging out.”

“Why are you so bruised up, Louise?” she asked me, “what happend to Steve’s face?”

My breathing stopped, “Um-huh...my arm um-someone grabbed me when we were trying to get out of the mall, to make sure I kept up,” I told her before lightly touching my neck, “I think I was grabbing my throat because of the smoke...I was scared, ma. I don’t really remember,” I explained trying to think quicker.

“Steve got in a fight,” Dustin chimed in, “he won this time at least.”

Mom looked back to me, eyeing my arm and neck again, “Are you sure you’re okay, Lou?”

I nodded, “I’m really okay, mom. A little sore and...yeah, I think I just need some rest.”

Mom sighed and wiped her face of the few tears that had fallen, “I beleive you guys,” she told us, “I do...I was just so afraid when I found out...when I heard that Mrs. Sinclair hadn’t seen Lucas or Erica for a while either...I just couldn’t stop thinking that something bad had happened, to both of you. I don’t know what I’d do if something...” she looked away from us and shook her head.

I glanced over at my brother and saw him looking down at the ground, feeling probably the same way I did. Terrible. Mom was reiterating back to us to reason why Dustin never told me about any of this from the beginning. If something happened to both of us, she was going to be alone and that wasn’t fair.

I looked back to mom as she sniffled loudly, and I knew that was the end of the questioning and she would be changing the subject immediately. When the conversations got to heavy and started making her or us upset she always tried to change it to make us all feel better.

“Go to bed guys, I’ll make a nice big breakfast in the morning, sound good?” she asked looking to us, with tears ready to spill over from her eyes any moment.

“Yeah, sounds good mom. See you tomorrow,” Dustin said before turning and going down the hall to his room.

I nodded once, “Night mom,” I said before following Dustin down the hall.

I followed Dustin to his room and stepped in.

“What is it, Lou?” he asked, taking a seat on his bed and looking at me.

I closed his door and walked the few steps to the bed, taking a seat next to him, “I’m sorry you guys went through this before.”

He sighed and shrugged, “It’s not like we went out looking for this before, and we definitely didn’t this time. But we got through it.

“We’ll all meet up tomorrow with the party and talk out everything. Fill everyone in on the last little bit...talk about Billy and Hopper...” he drifted.

I nodded and stood up, “Yeah...yeah, okay. I’ll see you tomorrow, Dustin.”

“Lou.”

I turned to him again and saw him watching me, “It’s like I said before,” he started, “you just gotta...close your eyes and eventually, no matter how scared or nervous or upset you are, you’ll go to sleep. And another day will start again. It’ll pass. The fear and shit...feels overwhelming to start, but eventually it’ll lessen. It’s worked out for me before.”

I felt my chest tighten just thinking about how Dustin and the rest of the group ha been through this before. How they had to keep quiet about the things that had gone on. That must have been extremely difficult for them to deal with.

“Night, Dustin,” I said softly before turning and leaving his room, closing his door behind me.

I walked right to the washroom and turned the shower on as hot as I could stand it.

I stripped down and stepped in washing off the past forty eight hours worth of grime and dirt and blood and vomit, probably.

My brain was too tired to process anything else. It felt like it was the longest and shortest two days of my life. I couldn’t explain it...it was too much going on all at once.

Once I felt sufficiently clean and like I rubbed my skin raw, I turned the shower off and stepped out, wrapping myself in a towel.

I went to my room and changed into pyjamas, placing my towel on a hook to dry off.

I laid on my bed for hours. I tried to just close my eyes and let sleep find me like Dustin said. But I couldn’t do it. I wanted to scream and cry, out of both relief and sadness. Relief that this was finally over, sadness over all the turmoil we had all gone through and that we were going to continue to go through because we lost Billy and Hopper.

When I couldn’t pretend anymore I opened my eyes and looked at the clock on my nightstand. 3:47am.

I sat up and got up off my bed and heading to the front door, hoping that fresh air would help me in someway.

The house was quiet. I was positive that mom and Dustin were both sleeping, or pretending better than me.

I opened the front door, stepped out, and closed it quietly behind me. I turned to the small two seater we had on the porch, but someone was already there.

“Steve?” I questioned.

He was already looking at me with wide eyes, “Hey...why aren’t you sleeping?”

I tilted my head at him, “I couldn’t sleep...better question is why are you here?”

He grinned at me as I sat next to him, “Same reason.”

“How long have you been out here?” I asked.

He took my hand in his and sighed, looking out across the front yard to the quiet street, “I was home long enough to shower and have my mom and dad wake up because I had the shower on so late, and then my dad got mad at me. I grabbed the spare key and just...started walking,” he told me before looking over to me, “so maybe...two hours.”

I adjusted so I could look at him a bit better, “Steve, you should’ve knocked on the door or something! You didn’t have to sit out here for two hours!”

He breathed out a laugh, “I thought you’d be sleeping!”

I smirked and shook my head before it faded, “What did your dad say?”

Steve hummed and looked to me, “He was mad about me using the shower so late. I asked if he even noticed that he hadn’t seen me in two days...he didn’t,” he said sadly, “I asked my mom and she thought I had been home. I asked them if they even noticed my face. Mom asked if I was okay, dad asked if this was another losing fight of mine. Then he said he was going back to sleep and for me to ‘stop whining’ and get a hold of myself.

“So I left,” he explained looking down at our hands, “they just...whatever,” he sighed.

“Hey,” I said, shaking our hands, he looked over to me, “if it upset you, then it’s not ‘whatever.’ It matters and is-it’s valid, Steve. And it’s important to me, how you feel.”

He brought our hands up and kissed the back of mine, “Thank you,” he said quietly barely moving his lips from my hand.

I smiled shyly at him, “Come on, Steve. I can get the couch ready and you can sleep there, or I can and you can take my bed?”

He shook his head and leaned back, “Can we just...sit for a while longer?”

I bit my lip with a small smile, sitting further back in my seat, leaning my head on his shoulder, “Okay,” I whispered.

Then, in what felt like an instant, sleep finally found me.

——

Title credit to REO Speedwagon and gif credit to owner! I’m so sorry, there’s probably so many spelling/grammar issues!

[batarella]

The Commander - Part 14 (Arkham Knight x Reader)

Only the epilogue is left! I can’t believe the Commander series gained this much love and support from all of you! And I honestly can’t believe how far this went. You guys are making me live the dream!

WORDS: 5422 WARNINGS: VIOLENCE (AND OTHER STUFF BUT I WON’T SPOIL YOU GUYS HIHI)

Masterlist 

THE COMMANDER - MASTERLIST

------

Was it fear? With the whole world coming after her, everyone she’s come to know wanting her dead. After destroying the whole of Gotham, corrupting it just enough when its citizens have placed a bounty on her head, but not enough to actually succeed and instill the protection she needed?

Was it failure? How the entire Arkham Knight Militia failing at its most important task was almost entirely her fault, how she was thought to be its most prized soldier and would have been the key needed to occupy the city, and instead became the cause for its humiliating defeat?

Was it grief? Over the hundreds of lives she’s taken, or how the loss of her uncle has placed such a scar on her, something no one will be able to overlook, ending her career as the best markswoman?

Or was it hate? Failing at the one thing she was supposed to be best at, the one thing she was at least good at? How she has nothing left to her name, nothing to be proud of, nothing to show for. How she had so little of life left.

It was all of them. At the same time.

But there was also heartbreak.

The bag was still on the floor. 1.5 million dollars. All of which she had no right to at all. Not when she’s lost the militia so much. Not after what she’d costed Jason.

It was definitely heartbreak. At even just the slightest thought of his name, she could feel a part of her chest chip away like glass pieces on the floor.

Heartbreak. Fucking heartbreak. It hurts so much that her other bruises are so easily suppressed. Never will she complain about broken bones ever again. It was nothing compared to this.

She was so sure he loved her back. Maybe he did, and she tore that love away before she was even sure it was there. Jason was kind, gentle to her. And he saw her in an entirely different light than everyone else. And she failed him, knowingly drove a knife down his chest. She was now a part of the cause for his hurt. And Y/N will never forgive herself for that.

Y/N might never find that again with anyone else.

But she had to go.

She left the money bag on the floor. However things go, she’ll come back for it, if she even wants to. Y/N took one last look at her mask, her red gun optics.

She can no longer be Deadshot. Not after everything. Donning the mask would only cause her so much pain. Dropping it on the floor, she left.

And with that, she left the militia, Floyd, and everything else.

Rolling her shoulders, keeping her wounds in check and knowing which places to avoid getting hit. She was going to need more than just her wrist gun to get out of here. Slightly pushing the door, her eyes adjusted to the orange light.

The elevator was across from her, and judging from the view outside the mezzanine, she was two stories above the control room. The main entrance would most probably be blocked, but if she found some explosives, she could get out of the HQ and find a bike nearby. Weapons crates would probably be there as well.

Y/N couldn’t take the elevator, but a chute right beside it went straight down all the way to the bottom, at the center of Killinger’s.

Making sure her gloves were tightly secured, she stepped out of the room and removed the steel grates, prying it open with her bare hands. After pushing her weight against her foot on the wall, she looked down the almost bottomless chute and prayed her injuries wouldn’t come to bite her.

Y/N stepped in, breathed, slowed her heartbeat, then slowly slid down the metal with the fabric of her gloves and her rubber boots maintaining the friction she needed not to fall. Her muscles were killing her, but she could manage this. Slowly and slowly, she descended until she could see the floor. There was light coming from the other end, which meant it was definitely at the center.

She stretched her arms further out to not hit the floor so suddenly, and when she was just inches away, her boots met the ground, where it led her to another way under the floors of the department store. At the darker corners, she wouldn’t be seen. She had to be careful.

Y/N crawled under the tunnels. There was no noise, no voices coming from anywhere. The soldiers must have left, even when all the lights were on.

There should be another chute somewhere. Further down and an elevator should take her to safety. Y/N climbed up the grates. There was a number of bodies on different corners, and those bodies were still breathing. Batman.

“Anyone seen the Knight?”

“No,” she heard a voice. And it wasn’t coming from afar. She hid behind a pillar and peeked out.

A weapons case. Yes. She hurried to it and grabbed every gun she could find. A rifle, a machine gun, and two pistols. It was like she could breathe for the first time.

“He left his visor,” one of them said.

“He couldn’t have gone far. Spread out.”

Five men scattered around, and she’ll have to climb up to get to the elevator in one of the corners. There were medics tending to the bodies. She’ll have to get out of here fast. Y/N hid behind boxes and crates, avoiding any of the soldiers’ line of sight. She climbed up the side of the escalator, grabbing onto the ledge and sprinting out before anyone could see her.

The elevator was still on the farthest side. And one of them stood guard in front of it. Y/N snuck behind a railing, waiting it out at the corner where it turned. Clear.

But just as she got to the lift, the gears turned up. She sprinted to the grates and crawled to the darkest corner she could hide in.

“You son of a bitch. We had a deal!”

“Get a truck ready outside.”

Scarecrow. And Commissioner Gordon, who was tied up and hauled like a pig behind Crane as they made their way out.

There had to be around five men following him. She kept her silence.

“Where the hell are you taking me?”

After that, she could hear his voice being muffled with a cloth tied to his mouth. Y/N froze when a sergeant turned to her direction, eyeing the elevator.

“Deathstroke,” Scarecrow’s voice growled, and she swallowed hard at the rock lodged in her throat. “Send the divisions to Panessa Studios. I believe we have a person of interest in its confines.”

Gordon’s groans followed. Scarecrow spoke into his comms. “I have the commissioner. Send a squad to Arkham Asylum as well. Make sure they will be ready to broadcast live.”

The broadcast. The final phase of Scarecrow’s plan. That’s if Jason hadn’t killed the Batman already. Which, as it seems, didn’t happen at all.

Y/N crawled out from the corner and followed Scarecrow closely behind.

Then something exploded. The gates, the one leading to where she came from. From where she could see, a door fell to the ground and someone holding two guns in his hands busted out, aiming right at Crane.

Every other gun in the room pointed at him. Crane didn’t move, but he wasn’t bothered as well. Gordon was dropped to the floor and the man, wearing a red helmet, or a visor, clicked his guns.

“WHERE THE HELL IS SHE?”

Fuck. Fuck. Jason.

“I thought you’d left.“

“Tell me where she is!”

“I haven’t an idea who you're talking about.”

“The Commander! WHERE DID YOU TAKE HER!?”

Crane managed to laugh under his breath, drawing his syringes at the muzzles of Jason’s guns. “So Commander Y/N is alive. You are weak, Knight. What makes you think I have her?”

Jason dropped the white mask she’d left behind on the floor. The gun optics was looking straight at her direction, hiding under the floor just a yard away from Crane.

“Tell me where she is and you can do whatever the fuck you want with Batman, Crane.”

“You no longer have power here, Knight. These men answer to me and Slade.”

“None of you would be here if it weren’t for me!”

“And your cowardice allowed Batman to escape. If not for Gordon, all this would have been for nothing.”

“Stop wasting my time,” he whispered, placing his gun right at Scarecrow’s forehead. “Tell me where she is.”

“I don’t know.”

No. Fucking no. Jason raised his arm, ready to strike Crane with the bottom of his gun. She could sense a sergeant ready to fire at the suddenness of his movements. Jason was held by two men by the arms, his guns dropping to the floor while another held a gun right at his face.

“Get off me!”

“I told you to kill the Commander if she were alive, or I kill you…” Crane walked to kneel at Jason’s level.

“Fuck you.”

One.

Two.

Three.

From her angle, she couldn’t aim at any of them.

“Kill him. He’s of no use,” Scarecrow backed away and the gun pointed at his head clicked.

But that wall. It was slanted. A good 45 degrees.

“You son of a bitch-“ Jason coughed.

‘Ricochet,’ Floyd’s voice echoed. A critical angle almost the same as the ricochet. It would bounce off the steel and hit the sergeant’s hand at just the right place.

‘Think of a line, coming straight from your gun, to the wall, and know where that line would be redirected.’

‘Move a little to the left, and aim.’

Breathe.

Breathe.

Breathe.

His finger was on the trigger. She had less than a second.

‘Deadshot. Fire.’

Y/N raised her arm, aiming straight at an empty wall, and fired.

“Ah!” She heard a scream, then a drop of a firearm that shot at the cement ground. The sergeant held his bleeding hand and backed away from a still-alive Jason. She did it.

“Someone’s here,” someone said. “SPREAD OUT.”

Jason was still being held down, his head forced to look at the floor while ten armed soldiers roamed the perimeter. He was calm.

He knew Y/N was here.

“Look up! They could be at a sniping position!”

Crane was taken somewhere she couldn’t fire at him. The commander kept moving around in the grates and avoided any of the men’s line of sight.

She couldn’t fire at anyone directly without being noticed. Y/N will have to look at the walls again. The steel ones.

That one. In about five seconds, a sergeant would pass by right in front of that wall. With his armor, she only had such a tiny window at his shoulder blades.

Y/N aimed at the steel, moving slightly to the right, and fired.

The bullet bounced off the wall and hit right where the plates met. One. He fell to the ground, Y/N moved fast.

Two of them, standing right in front of the metal of the elevator. She fired one, which landed right at his neck. Two. The other soldier crouched and moved away.

So she fired at the opposite wall, and it ricocheted twice before landing on the soldier’s groin. Three.

Y/N was home schooled by her aunt, but it was Floyd himself who taught her physics.

She couldn’t get to them any longer. Y/N quietly climbed out the grates, hid behind a store island and waited.

There. She grabbed the man and held him by the neck, snapping it off in one count. Four.

Six more. She could take them now.

Y/N stood up, raising her arm with her wrist gun and a pistol on the other. She fired two bullets at a sniper who was just about to shoot her. Five.

“ HE COMMANDER. GET HER.”

She rolled on the ground, having less time than a bullet reaching her just so she could aim and fire. Six. Seven. Eight. She jumped over boxes, leapt off in the air and kept moving. They never caught her.

Her guns fired off before any of them could lock onto her. She shot the muzzle of a machine gun and it exploded on a soldier’s hands. Then she shot him in the head. Nine.

Last one. He was hiding. Y/N ducked and hid behind the islands. She caught the top of someone’s head. A bullet would easily graze off his hair.

Y/N climbed up and jumped, firing at the wall behind him. It bounced off, and hit him right at the back of his neck.

Ten.

Unscathed. Y/N propped herself up on the floor just below the escalator. She found her white mask and her gun optics, sitting on the floor. She didn’t even need them.

But she heard Floyd’s voice again. At least, for just one night, she’ll don the mask. Slowly, she pulled it over her head.

‘Nice job, Deadshot,’ Floyd said.

Someone moved. Her reflexes kicking in, she aimed her wrist gun behind her.

With his red visor staring blankly at her, Jason ducked and pulled out his own gun before Y/N could fire.

Y/N didn’t move. She didn’t breathe. Jason was going to kill her. He was going to shoot her in the head for what she’d done. She kept her gun pointed at him. She might have loved him, but God Almighty, she wasn’t going to let him kill her.

He told her about this once. The Red Hood. The new persona he planned on taking after being the Arkham Knight.

Robin. The Arkham Knight. The Red Hood. A different name for the same man who was supposed to be her enemy. Someone she should have killed a long time ago.

The fight that was always meant to be.

She couldn’t see the look on his face. And if he was trying to tell her something, she couldn’t hear it. Y/N circled around him, and he followed her movements. If he shoots, she fires back. she kept her gun up and made sure he couldn’t tell her hands were shaking.

She could hear her heart beat. And it wasn’t helping. She could miss. Again. And she’d die. Or worse, she could shoot him in the wrong place and he’d die as well.

Maybe he should. If he was willing to let her die, why shouldn’t she? Y/N gripped on the gun on her hip. Slow the heart. Slow the breaths.

‘Kill when you have to,’ Floyd once told her. ‘Self defense is the one reason you can always justify with.’

If he shoots, and she lives, no longer will she hope for anything normal. Or anything best out of life. No one will be able to hurt her like Jason would.

That way, she can rest assure she’ll be the best markswoman in the world.

“Enough.”

Crane. With twenty more men following behind. She and Jason wouldn’t take their eyes off each other, and their guns, even if there were a hundred in the room.

“You are fooling yourselves. Everyone knows none of you will pull the trigger.”

He said their names so sneeringly. But she kept her gun up, and he didn’t look like he was about to move. “Maybe you're wrong, Crane,” Y/N said.

“I don’t know how many times I have to tell either of you. I know about you two. I never had eyes on Gotham. This woman was willing to fulfill my every whim if it meant getting the Knight what he wanted. And this man was practically on his knees begging me and Deathstroke not to let her on the Cloudburst, never mind how she does the job inherently better than he could. I needed no one following you around to figure that out.”

Her heart sank and Jason’s head craned down, avoiding the look on her eye. He never said it wasn’t about her. Y/N just assumed with what happened.

“Let’s make this interesting,” Crane laughed. “Knight, shoot her, or we will.”

And at the moment five firearms aimed at her, he pulled out his second gun and pointed it at the soldiers. “IF ANY OF YOU FIRE, I’LL BLOW YOUR FUCKING BRAINS OUT.”

Y/N turned her head at another three men aiming at Jason, so she pulled out her machine gun and pointed it at them.

“Adorable,” Crane said. He raised his hand and filled his syringes with the toxin.

Fifteen guns armed and loaded. Silence. All but the clicking of their guns. Crane walked up closer to them, holding up the needles in the air. Even from so far, she could smell the toxin.

“I’d inject either of you, but I’ll save this dosage for Batman.”

“Crane. I’m at the Panessa Studios. Bring Gordon over here and let’s get this over with.” Slade’s voice, coming from his communicator.

“Perhaps I’ve wasted too much time on you.” He turned around.

Twenty men, all waiting for their next move.

Crane headed for the exit. “Kill them.” His last words, before he left.

At the first strike of a bullet, Jason rolled away from his position and moved quickly behind a pillar. Y/N did the same and leapt behind an island nearby.

The shootout began. She aimed her wrist gun and opened fire at anything she could point at. Jason conjoined his two guns to make a sniper and aimed.

Y/N’s machine gun burned her shoulders with the recoil. She kept firing, and one by one the men hid behind any structure they could find.

“Thought you never wanted to see me again?” she screamed at Jason.

She heard a wince. “I never said that, kid.”

“So you scream at me for not killing Batman-“ she ducked as a bullet narrowly grazed her shoulder. She gritted her teeth. “Then you do the same exact thing. Intentionally.”

“I’m still fucking mad at you-GRENADE.”

She leapt off the floor and covered her head. It exploded onto the escalators, and the rubble tore through the floor. She hid behind a big block of cement and fired. Two men down.

“You want an apology now?”

Jason fired at a sniper above. “It can wait.” He slid a box of ammo down to her side, and she reloaded her gun.

Five. Six. Seven. Eight down. Y/N dropped her machine gun and fired with the one on her wrist. Heads dropped to the floor. Another was at a sniping position, and there was no way she could hit it from here.

“JASON. THROW ME!”

He nodded, then Y/N ran to him. He caught her legs, flung her into the air. And from above, she fired, hitting two snipers hiding behind the pillars. Y/N rolled to the floor and hid.

Wincing, she ripped a part of her suit and wrapped it around her leg after a bullet had grazed against her skin deep enough to bleed.

“You're hit!” Jason cried.

“Keep firing!”

Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Four bullets ricocheted off the walls and hit four different soldiers, their necks bleeding before they even hit the floor.

She saw Jason aim at a gas tank, the one stationed near a car showroom. Y/N ducked and an entire wall exploded into rubble.

It kept going. The gas tanks blew up one after another and she ran to Jason’s side, pulling him up and shooting at a soldier just about to hit them. The mall started catching on fire. A wall had opened up and there was a clear exit to the streets.

She used the last of her pistol to fire, with Jason guarding her back, as they made their way to the exit. He pulled her to duck at the final explosion, which took the ceiling away and the building started to collapse.

The fire was burning too close to her face. The heat was immense, and her breath was cut short with the ashy debris.

They ran. Y/N threw her pistol away and ran at Jason’s side to the parking space of the mall. Two motorcycles. Parked against each other. “There!”

She took the one at the left and hurried with the ignition. The department store’s fire roared faster than anything they’ve ever seen. Jason started up his bike and Y/N soon followed. Their bikes sped down the street as they finally drove away from Founder’s Island

The heat. It eventually subsided. She didn’t hear anyone follow them. Not even if she’d look back, which she didn’t do.

They reached Perdition Bridge, sped past GCPD without much thought of where to go. They just had to move.

“Slow do- son of a BITCH.”

Police sirens, from two cars and three motorcycles, trailing behind them. They pulled at their ignitions and sped further.

“WE HAVE EYES ON THE ARKHAM KNIGHT AND THE MILITIA COMMANDER. PULL OVER.”

A sharp turn down a corner. They were still behind them.

“SPREAD OUT,” he screamed. Y/N nodded and they took opposite turns down a fork in the road. Two motorcycles and a car followed her, and the others after Jason.

She can't kill them this time, no matter how easy that would be. She’s never killed cops. She wasn’t about to start now. Y/N sat back and opened the throttle so the bike would wheelie up, roaring so loud the noise filled the streets. She turned, catching the front wheel onto an idle car drove right above it. She pointed her wrist at the same car before she drove too far away and fired.

It exploded, and she took another sharp turn, her hand grazing against the ground. It didn’t do much to slow them down, and eventually the cops were tailing behind her again. She turned, left and right, so suddenly they could never see where she’d go next. She went for the quieter streets, sped further and further until eventually she reached Miagani Island.

She saw Jason at the far end, about to meet her at an intersection. She saw him slow down right where the two roads met and she hurriedly did the same.

The two police cars were about to go after them. Jason jerked his head up, and Y/N understood.

At the exact moment they crossed, Jason held his hand out, Y/N took it, and he pulled her whole body to fall against his motorcycle on the seat behind him. Her bike crashed onto a police car, and it drifted too late to avoid it, eventually crashing into the second.

Y/N held onto Jason with her one arm, and her wrist firing at the parked cars with the other. Explosion after explosion, and none of them slowed down the three motorcycles.

“YOU HAVE A PLAN?” he asked.

“DON’T YOU?”

Another sharp turn. The road almost tore the skin on her leg. She stopped firing. “JASON, SLOW DOWN.”

“WHAT?”

“SLOW DOWN. I NEED HIS BIKE.”

With a frustrated huff, Jason slowed the bike just enough for one of the cops to catch up to them. From Jason’s hip, she pulled out his grappling hook. “MEET ME AT MERCY BRIDGE,” Jason said to her.

She shot it at the cop’s leg, flinging him off the bike. It kept speeding beside them. She only had such short a window. Y/N got on her feet, stood straight up with the bike dangerously moving, and jumped to the empty bike.

She pulled at the throttle, and at the next intersection, they spread out once again, one cop following each of them. Sharp turns, close calls, and stunts that shouldn’t have left her alive at all, Y/N sped back to Bleake Island.

The gas tank was running out. She only had so much of a chance. There was a dead end in an alleyway nearby.

Y/N paused, waiting for the cop to catch up to her, then she pulled at the throttle and the engine scowled out into the empty streets. Her head almost hit the ground when she turned, pulling at the throttle one last time and speeding directly into a wall.  

Just before the cop came to a turn, she grappled up to the roof, grabbing onto a fire exit ladder and hiding before any of them could see her.

The motorcycle crashed onto the wall, and she fired the last shot on her wrist gun onto its tank, blowing it up before the cops could get near it.

She hid from the flying debris, ducking behind the railing and keeping so still, her breaths had to be subdued. It lasted longer, and the air around her choked her even more when the explosion almost met her skin.

The policeman backed off, hiding behind the building. Then when the fire had simmered down, he looked around, up at the roof. She was at an angle where he couldn’t see her.

And when he’d left, her chest sank to the ground.

It was done. 

Everything was finished.

Breathe.

Even if it hurts. 

Her blood was rushing so incredibly fast, she couldn’t see anything in front of her. Y/N laid on the ground, and the pain on her leg came back so gradually, that after a few minutes she could no longer hold it up.

Her lips went white. A bullet, hitting her flesh. The thought of it made her want to crawl into a sewers. She pulled herself to sit up, her knee folded up to where she could see. She unwrapped the bandage to have a look, and it was still bleeding. She couldn’t even touch it. Her hand was shaking, and her breaths were so short, she couldn’t do so much as think.

Y/N used the last of her strength to wrap the bandage even tighter around her leg. Then she laid against the wall, feeling her eyes drop down at every heavy breath that was hard to take.

She could sleep. The exhaustion from the whole night, only now did it come to a close. It didn’t feel like it was just from tonight, though. After everything she’d done, accomplished or failed at, for the past several months, only then did the weight fully land and the tiredness overwhelm her.

She was the commander of a militia army of more than five hundred men.

She lost her uncle.

She had her heart broken.

It wasn’t fear, failure, grief, or hate. She was just tired.

And now, if she sleeps, she’d most definitely die.

Y/N looked up, and a helicopter flew past where a serpent drone usually hovered over. She kept her head craned up, and a light trickle of rain droplets fell onto her face. It was so subtle, she didn’t even get wet, even after waiting at the fire exit for so long.

And it was the last, cool push that began to reign over the bursting fire. After everything that happened, the droplets on her face calmed her. She was silent, and she closed her eyes, but only to feel the cold.

She wasn’t going to die here. Not tonight.

She had one more thing to take care of.

Y/N climbed off the ladders, careful not to place any weight on her bad leg. Her feet met the ground, and she looked out of the alley.

No one. It was peaceful, and the rain continued to be subtle. Batman had finished off the command points, because she couldn’t see even one militia soldier on the streets.

Another bike, on the sidewalk near a convenience store. She walked up to it and pulled it to stand up. Still wincing at the pain, Y/N started the ignition.

She took off her mask and her gun optics. Staring at it, she could hear Floyd’s voice. Over and over like she could actually hear them in real life.

‘Bullseye,’ he’d say to her, after every successful training session.

She stuffed it into her pocket and drove, slowly this time, to Mercy Bridge.

The droplets were running across her cheeks, and it was like a hand, running down her back and calming her even further. The further she rode, the more the weight seemed to burn down.

He would have loved this. Floyd. He never had to lead an army, or do whatever she just did. He’d be proud of her. Immensely.

She’d failed as a commander, and the militia failed her. But she was Deadshot.

The greatest markswoman in the world.

At the turn to Mercy Bridge, she saw him waiting at the center, his red visor up so he could look at her, straight into the eye, when she slowly drove closer and closer to Jason.

Y/N turned off the ignition, swung her good leg over the seat and limped over to him. Jason looked at her leg, then at her, then he moved so quickly towards her so she didn’t have to force herself to walk anymore.

His arms were forceful, but they were warm. Jason pulled her into a tight embrace, his face buried into her hair while she did the same. Y/N closed her eyes shut, feeling him so close to her once again.

And there was nothing else in Gotham but them. No thugs. No cops. No stars. Nothing except the moon, which shined so largely that night, it was enough to light up the empty streets.

All the weight had come off. And she felt lighter than the droplets, lighter than a sparrow. She tightened her circling arms around him and never wanted to let go. “I’m sorry…” she whispered. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry-“

“Shut up.” He shushed her, slightly pulling away so he could look at her face. “For fuck’s sake, shut up.”

His lips. They still had the same warmth. They were right as she’d left them. They pressed tightly against her own, and his hand was holding the back of her head so she wouldn’t move. She grew still, letting herself slowly fall into the madness. His madness. But his lips were so gentle, she kissed him back.

“You can do shit like that ten times over. I’ll get mad. I’ll punch a wall,” Jason whispered. “and I’ll still love you. I love you. So much. I love you.”

She kissed him again, no longer fighting the tears that mixed with the rain water on her face. He held the sides of her head. “I love you,” she said back in between his kisses, and he kissed her harder. Y/N’s hands were on his face and she felt tears down his cheeks as well. She wiped them off, gently, then pulled away so she can kiss them.

Even if the bridge weren’t empty, the water below them wasn’t silently thrashing, and the moon wasn’t so bright, it would all feel the same.

He laid his forehead against hers, and he was so beautiful, even with a new scar right on his eyebrow. He was beautiful. Y/N kissed him again until her lips had the familiar, wonderful sting.

“I found supplies,” he said. And on his bike was a bag. “Food. Clothes. First Aid kit. Everything you need to last three days. Hide in my old apartment and don’t come out. Not until people come back from evacuation. The police will find you. I can't risk being followed. Not after what I’m about to do.”

“Let me help you-“

“No,” his voice stammering. “Y/N, no. This is my fight. You can't save me again. You’ve saved me so many times. For once, let me save you…”

The grip on her face was secure. And she felt like she could never be hurt again. She can't be apart from him. Not for a second more.

“Where will you go?” she cried.

“Arkham Asylum. Crane. Bruce. I have to go after them…”

She could see it. The first signs of his inner peace. He wouldn’t have to go through fighting his demons the way he wanted. “Save him,” she said, kissing him one last time.

“I will. Then when all this blows over, when it’s safe, I’ll come back to you. I’ll never let you out of my sight. I love you.”

It tore through whatever darkness was left in her. She hugged him, and at the pain that came with having to let him go, just for so long to keep them both safe, he pulled away. Jason glanced at her, smiled that beautiful smile that sent her miles into the sky, then closed off his visor and drove off.

Even with the night an empty black, she could feel the stars looking at them in hiding.

-----

THE COMMANDER - MASTERLIST

-----

  Taglist: everyartistwas-firstanamateur  @sarcasmismyfirstlove @damned-queen-of-gotham @idkmanicantenglish @wunderstell @birdy-bat-riya @get-loki@everyday-imfangirling @comic-nerd-dc @multifandoms916 @icequeen208@offendedfishnoises @egdolan @xemiefx @arkhamtoddler @elsenthal@mythicbitchx @supremehaunter @ burning-alive  @lucy-roo  roseangel013bf

[ayoungpadwn]

Ohhhh anakin is so the main pitcher on the high school baseball team. He is very popular and well known around the school. Obi-Wan is like a classic art kid, his only friend is the Ceramics teacher, and he spends his lunches in some hidden spot reading alone. One day Anakins friends find Obi Wan and start to bug him, and while he does nothing, he comes back the next day to apologize and get to know Obi Wan. Over time they become inseparable and every art project Obi makes from then on is for Ani

this has... literally been sitting in my ask box for WEEKS. I’m--so sorry...

but carrying on with the idea because YES

- Anakin is most definitely the star pitcher since the beginning of his sophomore year all the way to his senior year. EVERYONE knows him. He is Coruscant’s poster boy, the golden child. The /Chosen Pitcher/ if you will.

- He became most well known for getting Coruscant to the finals his sophomore year, which hadn’t happened in, like, 20+ years. 

- All this praise obviously boosted his ego, especially his sophomore year when he first became the star pitcher. That made him super arrogant and he got roped into the super popular group, so the not-so-popular crowd tends to steer clear of Anakin, since his arrogance and popularity tends to fall with the stereotype of a bully.

- BUT whenever people do have an interaction with Anakin, they are always surprised to find that he can be strangely down to earth, really chill and kind. This made him even more popular his Junior year, since now he’s known as the super nice, yet arrogant, star pitcher. 

- He can basically be friends with everyone.

- Girls fall for him left and right, and he has a reputation as a player just for that reason.

- Yet, strangely enough, no one has ever actually seen him /with/ anyone. 👀

- Anakin’s whole reputation of being a player, an arrogant pitcher, super popular, and oddly kind is what made Obi-Wan steer clear of Anakin throughout most of their time in high school.

- At least... Obi-Wan steered clear of him when he knew people were watching. His own friends liked to make fun of the baseball team, just as the baseball team tended to like to make fun of his friends: the theatre and art nerds.

- That’s when Obi-Wan started to sneak out to watch the baseball games during Anakin’s sophomore year, just because there was something about the pitcher Obi-Wan couldn’t get out of his head and he needed to know more about.

- He was taking a big risk going to the games, since he ran the chance of being made fun of not just by the baseball players, but his own friends as well. Even if his friends joked about it in a playful way.

- Obi-Wan was definitely a loner in high school. He had a small group of friends, but who he was closest to had to be his arts teacher. He spent most of his lunches with Mr. Qui-Gon Jinn, either to just talk or work on an art piece. 

- For fun, Obi-Wan started to draw and paint some of the baseball games he went to. The pivotal moments of the games, when everything came down to a single pitch, or hit, or run. Soon enough he had an entire collection of baseball works, and Qui-Gon /loved/ them. He insisted that Obi-Wan work on more and submit them to the College Board for AP credit.

- So, that became Obi-Wan’s excuse for going to the games. He had to “work on his art concentration for class.”

- During the baseball games he would hide at the very far point of the field, past the scoreboard. It gave him a terrible view of the pitching mound, but it kept him rather concealed. At least the first year.

- Obi-Wan wasn’t popular in any sense of the word, only known as the quiet liberal arts kid. So he thought that going to the games he wouldn’t even be recognized if he got caught. But how wrong he was...

- It was Anakin’s junior year, Obi-Wan’s own senior year, when he finally got caught by two of Anakin’s teammates.

- “What’chu workin’ on, sweater?” a couple of the Coruscant players had chosen to warm up their arms by tossing to each other at the back of the outfield, which gave them a perfect view of Obi-Wan.

- Obi-Wan had glanced down at his sketchbook before bringing it to his chest, trying to hide the sketch he had made of Anakin practicing. “It doesn’t concern you,” Obi-Wan had said back.

- The situation escalated from there. One of the players hopped the fence to come grab the sketchbook from Obi-Wan, resulting in the coach coming to yell at the player. And of course Anakin, the newly voted-in captain came to investigate as well. Because that is just Obi-Wan’s luck.

- The player finally ripped the sketchbook from Obi-Wan’s grasp and laughed at what he saw, “He’s drawing Anakin! What, you got a crush or something?”

- “It’s for my art class!” Obi-Wan bit back and reached for the sketchbook, only for the player to toss it to Anakin before he could grab it.

- It felt like the breath had stilled in Obi-Wan’s lungs as Anakin looked down at the piece, his face totally unreadable. There was a brief moment that Obi-Wan was terrified that Anakin would flip through the pages, but the star pitcher simply folded the sketchbook up before passing it back to Obi-Wan.

- “Get back to practice, you two,” Anakin had said to the players before walking away.

- Obi-Wan decided he needed to stop going to baseball games after that.

- It was exactly four days after the incident when Obi-Wan was coming back late to school to pick up a ceramics piece he had accidentally left. As he made his way to the art room, he realized he had to pass by the baseball field. Just as practice was getting out. Shit.

- He tried to speed past the players, and it seemed that he was home free as he passed the dugout. Except, “Hey, you!”

- Obi-Wan froze to the spot, turning on his heels to see who had called for him.

- And honestly Obi-Wan could hardly believe that it was /Anakin/ who was jogging after him, face flushed red and sweaty from practice.

- The pitcher panted to catch his breath as he came to a stop in front of him, “Kriff, you walk fast,” Anakin laughed.

- Obi-Wan blinked at him waiting for him to continue.

- Anakin cleared his throat, “Anyway, I just wanted to apologize for the other day. My teammates are--”

- “It’s fine,” Obi-Wan hastily said, ready to bring the conversation to a close. He need nor did he want Anakin’s sympathy. Obi-Wan was just embarrassed, it was best to leave what happened behind him.

- Anakin smacked his lips, “Right, well... I just wanted to say I thought your drawing was really cool. I’d love to see more of them.” Obi-Wan blinked at him, so Anakin hurriedly added, “Only if you want me to, of course! You don’t have to... y’know. Yeah, okay, I think I’m gonna--” Anakin motioned behind him with his thumbs as he started walking backwards, nearly tripping over his own two feet. “I think I’ve embarrassed myself enough for one day,” Anakin laughed awkwardly, “See you around, Obi-Wan!”

- Obi-Wan watched as Anakin turned and rushed away, disappearing around a corner.

- How had he known his name?

- The third time Obi-Wan had an interaction with Anakin was during lunch one day. He was sat outside reading against a tree when Anakin approached him once again. At first Obi-Wan disregarded the other’s presence, but it became harder to do so when the pitcher set his bag down and sat directly in front of him.

- Obi-Wan dropped his book into his lap and pulled out an earphone, looking at Anakin quizzically.

- “Hey!” the pitcher chirped, his face split in a grin.

- “Hello there,” Obi-Wan greeted as he leaned forward and fluffed out his sweater.

- Anakin’s eyes tracked the movement, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without a sweater on. It’s like ninety degrees out, how are you not dying?”

- Obi-Wan shrugged, “I run cold. Though I could say the same for you, you have a jacket on in this weather.”

- “I come from Tatooine, that place is literally a desert. I’m used to it being twice as hot as it is now.” Anakin shifted his weight as he leaned back onto his hands, “Anyway, I came to bug you again about the... art pieces?”

- Obi-Wan couldn’t help but laugh, “You are incredibly interested in those.” Anakin smiled proudly and tilted his head. “Well,” Obi-Wan continued, “I don’t have any with me at the moment. I suppose if you would like to stay after school and come with me to the art room, you can look through as many as you would like.”

- Anakin had done just that, much to Obi-Wan’s surprise. The pitcher was already waiting at the art room door by the time Obi-Wan had arrived.

- Obi-Wan was still somewhat hesitant to show Anakin all that he’d done, but his nerves were quickly eased by Anakin’s reactions. You would have thought that the baseball player had never seen art before with how he praised the pieces Obi-Wan showed him.

- Qui-Gon kept flashing Obi-Wan knowing glances from his desk, much to Obi-Wan’s dismay.

- Eventually, though, the art teacher had to kick them out, which meant it was time to go their separate ways.

- “I’d love to hang out again, you’re a super cool guy, Obi-Wan.” Anakin had said as they walked to the student parking lot.

- “Super cool guy,” Obi-Wan repeated and laughed, “I do not think anyone has ever said that about me before.”

- Soon enough, Anakin and Obi-Wan became inseparable. In secret, of course. No one in their own friend groups knew that they were hanging out with each other.

- Obi-Wan quickly came to realize why people always had nice things to say about Anakin. While the pitcher was arrogant, he was accepting and kind and more down to earth than Obi-Wan could have ever anticipated.

- There was one night where they decided to go stargazing in the back of Anakin’s truck, when Obi-Wan finally found the nerves to ask:

- “That day when you came up to me to apologize for your teammates, you knew my name. But I never told you what it was. How did you know it?”

- Anakin had paused, and it was hard to read exactly what the pitcher was thinking in the darkness of night.

- “Don’t be... weirded out, okay?” Anakin began.

- Obi-Wan had taken pause but said, “I won’t be,” nonetheless.

- “I was sorta watching you for a while before that day at the game. Not in, like, a stalking way!” Anakin was hurried to say, “But you just struck my interest. You were alone most of the time yet you always looked so peaceful and there was something in your eyes that I couldn’t get out of my mind.”

- Obi-Wan swallowed and opted to not reply.

- “I noticed you at nearly every game, ever since last year. And I wanted to go up and talk to you, but I didn’t necessarily know how to go about it. That’s why I’m sort of glad my teammates tried to bully you. It gave me an excuse to actually /talk/ with you, the person who I was too scared to approach since last year.”

- Obi-Wan paused and turned his head to watch Anakin, “Anakin... do you like me?”

- The pitcher flinched away quickly, as if burned, and whipped his head around to look at Obi-Wan. “What--I’ve never... I’m not... I don’t like guys.”

- Obi-Wan blinked at him before pushing himself to sit up, Anakin following suit. “Dear one,” Obi-Wan began, and even in the pale light he saw Anakin’s face turn a shade of pink, “Have you ever kissed a guy?”

- “I’ve... kissed girls.” Anakin provided.

- “Okay, and how did it feel?”

- Anakin fell silent.

- “Anakin,” Obi-Wan murmured and lifted a hand to run his fingers along Anakin’s jaw. The younger’s eyes were trained to his lips, as if an animal preparing to pounce.

- Obi-Wan inched forward, their lips a hair widths apart. He had to know if Anakin was going to...

- Anakin crushed their lips together, their teeth clattering together with the force of the kiss. Anakin quickly swiped his tongue along Obi-Wan’s bottom lip, asking for entrance.

- Soon enough, Anakin had lowered them to the back of the truck, laying together lazily as Obi-Wan let Anakin map out his mouth and body. The pitcher was moving with a burning hunger, as if he were a man starved of the touch he had so longed for.

- Neither of them truly knew what the kiss meant in that moment, but neither of them truly cared.

<3

[honeypwark]

[ Technical Difficulties ]

  ↳ Neo City - The Origin Tour

       ↳ Yuna is tackled by Yuta. She gets stuck on a stage lift. Yuta apologizes.

m.list

Note: This idea was taken/highly inspired by one of @heesvt’s posts. I hope you’re doing okay, lovely 💕

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Jungwoo jumps back as an unknown mass jumps onto Yuna and sends her to the ground with a surprised shriek. Jungwoo laughs as he sees Yuta now laying haphazardly on top of the younger girl.

“Why?” Yuna groans from under Yuta.

“Okay, honestly, I didn’t think I’d take you down,” Yuta says while standing, “Are you really that weak?”

“Maybe you’re just heavy,” Jungwoo counters, helping Yuna to her feet.

Yuta hits the younger boy in the arm and Jungwoo gives an exaggerated reaction, wincing and cowering behind Yuna’s smaller frame.

“Hey, guys, let’s try not to injure one another when we have a tour starting in less than a week,” Taeyong calls to the three, but mostly Yuta.

“Sorry,” Yuta says without an ounce of sincerity but refrains from tackling or hitting anyone else.

The twelve members of NCT 127 wait in the wings of KSPO Dome’s main stage. Their tech crew is working on finishing installing the stage lifts, so the members have been given a brief break from rehearsal. They all sit out of the way of the staff as they work, talking amongst themselves but mostly just relaxing for a moment quietly.

“Can we get five members onstage to help with final lift alignments and calibrations?” a staff member approaches the idols to ask.

“Let’s go, Yuna,” Yuta says, he and Jungwoo starting toward the stage.

“I’m good; heights freak me out,” she says.

“It’s not that high. Come on.”

Ever since she was first put into NCT, Yuta has looked out for Yuna. At first, he just found it cute how similar their names are but then he became close and extremely protective of her. He helps her to be a little more daring and drags her out to do things when she’s cooped herself up inside for too long. Whine as she might, she’s able to trust Yuta to gauge whether or not she’d be up for doing something or not.

That’s why when Yuta grabs her wrist to drag her onstage, she doesn’t protest much more except dragging her feet a little. She, Yuta, Johnny, Katie, and Jungwoo end up on the five lifts in that order, with Johnny in the middle and Jungwoo and Yuna on either end.

After a minute more of talking on radios to the staff working under the stage, a staff member tells them, “Okay, we’re going to start moving.”

Surely enough, just after he says that, Jungwoo, Johnny, and Yuna begin to be lifted up. Yuna stumbles a little as her platform begins to move but finds her balance quickly. Yuta still laughs teasingly at her momentarily. Katie and Yuta begin to be lifted as well as the first three are lowered. Yuna’s platform suddenly stops with a jolt as the other four continue moving smoothly.

It doesn’t just stop moving, whatever engine is powering the lift rattles and clicks loudly as the entire machine shakes. Yuna goes completely still, too startled to react. A staff member below is shouting for the engine to be turned off. The engine continues to click, louder and louder until it sounds like something is breaking.

The platform that Yuna stands on falls slightly to one side and Yuna shrieks but is still too afraid to move. Her nails dig hard into her palms at her sides, eyes squeezed shut. Blood is rushing in her ears and she is absolutely terrified, heart pounding and stomach tied into knots. She can already feel the tears coming as they always do when she gets scared.

“Yuna! Yuna, hey. Yuna, look at me,” Yuta calls out to her.

If she wasn’t so terrified, she would have noticed the staff member down on the stage trying to give her instructions to get her off safely. But she’s too scared to even lift her head and look at Yuta.

“I told you I didn’t want to come,” Yuna cries.

Yuta realizes with horror that she’s crying, really crying. He knows she cries when she gets scared but usually she’s laughing at herself as she sheds a few tears. Not this time. Her crying has quickly escalated to sobbing, her shoulder beginning to shake.

“I told you,” she repeats.

“I know. I’m so sorry, Yuna. Can you please look at me?” Yuta asks.

“I’m scared,” she wails, fear clouding her mind so much she is unable to fake bravery like she usually does when watching a scary movie.

“I know, I know. Just lift your head and look at me. Okay?”

Yuna sniffs and sobs but gains some control of herself. She very slowly lifts her head to look at Yuta. He can see from his own platform that she’s so tense and scared that she’s trembling.

“Tell her to walk slowly over to you,” a crew member says from the stage.

“I can’t do that. I can’t do that,” Yuna immediately protests.

“Yes, you can,” Yuta interjects.

“No, I can’t. I can’t, I can’t.”

“Yuna? Yuna. Calm down. Take a deep breath. Okay? With me. In. Out.”

Yuna breathes in and out with Yuta. Tears still flow from her eyes but her sobbing has ceased.

“You’re gonna be fine,” Yuta tells her. “Just put one foot in front of the other and walk towards me, okay? You can do it. One step at a time.”

Moving as slowly as humanly possible, Yuna slides her right foot in front of her left. She starts to shift her weight and repeat the process of taking a slow step with her left foot when the platform shifts under her, following the position of her body weight. She screams and sobs, stopping her movements and retracting her arms up to her chest.

“I didn’t want to do this. Why did you make me do this, oppa?!” Yuna wails, so scared that she doesn’t think twice before placing blame on Yuta for the situation.

Guilt grips at Yuta’s chest but he focuses entirely on getting Yuna to safety. He is the reason she’s on the lift in the first place, he’ll get her off of it.

“I’m so sorry, Yuna. I shouldn’t have made you come,” he says. “Just two more steps and you’ll be okay but you’ve got to keep moving toward me.”

Yuna is staring at the platform she’s standing on, unable to move her feet like they’ve been glued down. She’s back to sobbing, her crying heard above the chatter of staff members and worried NCT members below.

“Yuna. Look at me.”

She does, sobbing like a child but unable to stop herself.

He holds his hands out to her, standing as close to her platform as possible while staying on his own, “Two more steps. Just two more. You can do it.”

She’s unable to calm down as she slowly takes another step toward Yuta. She reaches her hands out for his. Halfway through her next step, her hands meet his. The second he can grabs onto her fingers, he pulls her toward him and onto his platform. She immediately trucks herself into his chest, seemingly crying harder as relief of being safe washes over her.

Yuta takes only a moment to sigh in relief and wraps his arms around Yuna before shouting down at the staff members, “Down, down, down! Bring us down, now!”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Yuta knocks on the door to the NCT girls’ dorm, waiting just a few moments before it’s pulled open by Songi.

“Hi, Yuta,” she says.

“Hey,” he returns. “Um, is Yuna okay?”

“Yeah, I ran her a bath after Katie and I showered. I just heard her draining the water, so she should be out in a couple minutes.”

Yuta steps into the dorm and takes his shoes off, sitting on the couch anxiously as he waits. He hears the bathroom door open and sees Yuna exit just briefly before she heads directly into her and Songi’s bedroom, not even realizing Yuta was waiting for her. She comes back out quickly, probably alerted of his presence by her roommate. She clad in a tee shirt and sweatpants, both several sizes too big, damp hair hanging loosely around her shoulders.

“Oppa,” she says when she sees him.

“Yuna,” he says. “Um, I wanted to apologize about earlier. I didn’t really have a chance before rehearsal started again and you came home with the other girls. I would never have made you come if I had known there would have been a malfunction like that. I know I push you to do things a lot but I would never purposely put you in danger.”

“I know that, oppa,” Yuna says, “And I accept you apology. I don’t blame you; I was so scared I wasn’t thinking clearly.”

“Regardless, I brought Ponyo and strawberry ice cream and figured we could-“

“Yes,” Yuna says before he can finish, always ready to watch her favorite movie, especially with her favorite ice cream.

Yuta smiles, “Okay.”

[its-jijii]

i’m scared of tanizaki junichirou

welcome to me theorizing and questioning the tanizaki siblings cause they honestly kinda scare me. everything im talking about has already been animated in s3 but warning for spoilers if u haven’t seen it yet.

hi okay well i’ll start off with the eyes. harukawa has explained this so i’m sure most people know of it, but if you don’t, eyes = danger/morality. characters with darker eyes are more dangerous or “evil”, and characters with light eyes are more innocent. i personally think something is off with naomi’s eyes. also if you wanna skip reading about eyes go ahead

in comparison to mafia members or ex-mafia members, naomi doesn’t stand out that much. it’s true that her pupil isn’t large and dark, like kyouka or kenji, and her eyes don’t have any kind of shading or rings.

however, if you were to only look at ADA members with more narrowed eyes, naomi’s starts to stand out. her iris has thicker lining and touches the bottom of her eye (ranpos also do but hes squinting 24/7). her pupil is bigger than others, too. without harukawa’s stated stylistic choices, her eyes being like this wouldn’t have much significance. 

buuut i wouldn’t be talking about it if it were normal. considering naomi’s role, her eyes are uncomfortably dark. she’s supposedly a student and part time office worker. fukuzawa worked as a government assassin in the past. kunikida isn’t evil, but he is physically capable and dangerous. even her brother has lighter eyes. why are naomi’s eyes darker, indicative of evil or danger, than that of other dangerous ADA members? she has no ability from our knowledge.

for a nonviolent, non-combative character, naomi’s eyes pretty dark. i can’t help but think she is hiding something. 

beyond naomi’s unusually dark eyes, there’s the subject matter of the sibling’s relationship. not the incest part. something is clearly off between them- their willingness to do anything for each other is what is off-putting. naomi jumping in front of her brother to save him? not unusual. tanizaki willing to commit murder for his sister’s sake? woah there, hold on a sec

there is normally a line you would draw in what you would do for your sibling(s). for someone who is supposedly on the good side, that’s an extreme measure to take. and unfortunately it isn’t just tanizaki threatening to hurt people who hurt naomi- he has literally attempted to kill people to protect her or get revenge. 

first there was him choking higuchi, where if akutagawa hadn’t interrupted him, he probably would’ve killed her. secondly, when rescuing naomi and haruno from the guild, he intentionally used his ability to attempt to kill the guild members by getting them hit by a truck.

i’m led to believe that this love and dedication between them is mutual. naomi is protective of her brother and frequently follows him around. if she had any combative skills or ability, she would likely be using them to protect tanizaki. assuming this is the case, i wonder what caused their relationship to escalate to this point. for both of them to be so close that they would commit murder, throw away all morals and self preservation- i can’t see a normal sibling relationship getting to that point. technically they’re not that normal but you get the point.

aside from their actions proving their dedication to each other, there’s what they’ve said about the relationship. particularly, what tanizaki said about what naomi means to him during his conflict with the guild.

sorry for low quality screenshots. they’re from chapter 22

well, here we go. for starters, eyes again- tanizaki normally has pretty light eyes. however, when he speaks seriously about naomi in these panels, his eyes are always considerably darker. he is more dangerous, and as he said, willing to throw away all morals.

then there’s the god thing. he says that he can’t compare his love or willingness for naomi with anything. the example he uses is that “nobody would compare god with anything, right?” the way this is phrased strongly suggests that to him, naomi is akin to a god. highly revered, dutifully loved and willing to do anything, and that she can’t be compared to anything. she can’t be compared to other people, or concepts, or anything- to him, naomi is godlike and her importance is unquestionable.

lastly, there’s him saying that he would gladly reduce the world to ashes for naomi. at this point, there’s little doubt in the reader’s mind that he means this. he is very, very serious in what he would do for naomi. this kind of obsession and worship must have stemmed from somewhere or something. something must have happened for tanizaki in particular to act this way. but alas asagiri hasn’t given me jack shit so i have no idea what

tanizaki is scary beyond his loyalty to his sister, though. his ability, and what he said in chapter three. he doesn’t have a flashy or amazing ability, and it isn’t used in combat. this is true. of course there are other creative ways tanizaki has utilized his ability, but it is limited. in another post i discussed ability classifications in bsd. light snow falls under the non-combative category.

tanizaki’s ability itself cannot hurt people. his ability can affect himself, others, and his surroundings, but making illusions can’t hurt people. so, given this fact and the fact that he said that he is non-combative, i find his actions strange. other ADA members have either training in combat (kuni, fuku) or their ability  gives them a strength boost (atsu, kenji, kyouka, etc).

he hasn’t shown any knowledge of martial arts, and his ability is one of the few that can’t injure other people. so,,,, how did this man stand up to the three black lizard commanders on his own? he nearly successfully killed mori. he nearly killed higuchi. and though he physically didn’t do much, he did incapacitate two formidable guild members.

it’s true that most of these involved using his ability to disguise himself or his surroundings. however, he seems very, very adept at using his ability in these unconventional ways. maybe he’s just creative and good at thinking up tactics. buuut given that most of these instances involve him attempting murder, i have to wonder how he is so used to using his ability to assassinate or trick others. for a non-combative person, he seems preetttty violent

bonus that in most of these scenes, his eyes are very dark. sometimes they revolve around protecting naomi, and sometimes they revolve around infiltrating and assassinating the boss of the port mafia.

in conclusion i’m scared of tanizaki junichirou. naomi is suspicious and lowkey shady af, but i have not seen her act as drastically and terrifyingly as tanizaki has. thanks for coming to my ted talk i’ve been writing this for like three hours and now its four am. bye thanks for reading, i hope you enjoyed

[florenceandthemachine]

we all know that i will cling to my “jackson’s parents are trash” headcanon until my last dying breath, but every once in awhile i like to imagine things being a little bit happier. so. talk to me about stiles giving jackson the first healthy relationship he’s ever had and inspiring him to work on things with his parents. stiles sitting through awkward family dinners and pushing the three of them to say what they need to say. stiles telling jackson how proud he is of him with soft kisses.

ugh UGH hell yes 911 send somebody bc this post killed me. it killed me because it would be all Jackson and his personal growth. it would be Jackson who decides to work on his relationship with his parents, it would be Jackson who learns what love is from Stiles, it would be Jackson who is left with more good days than bad and that confuses the fuck out of him, because it would be Jackson that realizes one day that his baseline isn’t angry anymore. and he tries to thank Stiles for that and instead Stiles just flicks his forehead and shakes his head because “oh no, you can’t give me credit for that. it was all you, baby.” because it WOULD BE ALL JACKSON.

Well, it would be Jackson and his supernatural senses. 

it does start with Stiles though, and that Jackson is 100% sure of. it starts with Jackson picking up the phone, maybe six months into them dating and seven into being a werewolf (they moved fast, so what?) to a hysterical Stiles on the other line, begging and pleading for Jackson to come pick him up from his house, he’s locked himself in his room and Jackson doesn’t even wait before breaking a land speed record in his Porsche, leaving tire marks on the lawn and almost knocking over Ms. Fitzpatricks mailbox when he takes a turn (way) too fast. 

He gets to Stiles house just in time to see Stiles make the drop from the lattice outside his window to the ground, and throws his door open as Stiles dives into his car, literally burning rubber as he backs out of the driveway and floors it onto the road. Once Stiles is calmed down enough to talk, Jackson pulls over—some fifty miles away from either of their houses—and pulls Stiles into his arms.

It would have been something small that escalated into something big—like, Stiles would have just told the Sheriff about the supernatural and the Sheriff would have been pissed, and he would have been yelling and Stiles would have been yelling back, and then someone would have said something about Claudia and the yelling would have immediately upgraded to screaming, voices ripped raw as things are thrown at walls (never at one another, but things should not be thrown in general). It breaks Jackson’s heart, it reminds him of the fights he had with his parents, and he would be terrified for Stiles from the moment they crashed at Jackson’s place to the moment he asked Jackson to drop him off.

But Jackson is a good boyfriend so he would oblige. He’d drive Stiles home and step out of the car when he realized the Sheriff was still home. He’d be a second too late to say something when the Sheriff throws the front door open, and his claws would slice through the metal of the hood of his car when Stiles took off—but it would be toward his dad, not away from him, and Jackson would be blindsided when they both collided in a hug, apologizing to one another, crying, and thanks to his supernatural senses he could hear every word and smell every tear. 

He had thought that kind of fight would be it for Stiles and his dad, those kind of fights were it for Jackson and his parents, but they were both just... hugging and apologizing. It blew his mind. Moreso, it made him think.

He’d lay his thoughts bare for Stiles, as he always did, one evening as they were watching a movie on Jackson’s too-big TV in his too-big bed in his too-big house. He’d ask Stiles how they did that—how they just apologized. He had tried a few times with his parents, but the moment the fight was over, they acted like it had never happened, so he had just started to get angry about that, too. How did they just talk, and forgive one another, so easily?

Stiles would give him a totally bizarre look, and when he spoke, it would be slow and guarded (as though he couldn’t tell if Jackson was honestly confused or if he was about to make fun of Stiles for being close with his dad) but he would go on to talk about how important communication was to the pair of them, and how they hit their breaking point after his mom died, and how they knew they were the only family they had left so they had to make it work, even when they didn’t want to.

Jackson would just stay silent as Stiles spoke, tugging the other male closer to his chest. He didn’t think he had any family left. But maybe it would be worth a shot. 

He is Jackson, though. He’s not Stiles. So he doesn’t try to worm his way into it, he doesn’t go for the coy tricks, he just comes outright with it and walks into the kitchen the next morning when his parents are making breakfast. 

“I want you both to meet my boyfriend. Properly. So I invited him to dinner on Friday night. He would probably demand pizza, but I’ll get him to compromise to pasta. Don’t...” and he would let out a long sigh as both of his parents stare at him, slack jawed in shock. “Don’t forget about it, okay? It’s important to me.”

And he would turn out of the kitchen and pretend he didn’t notice the dropped spatula or the twin looks of shock. 

Dinner would go as well as anyone would expect, meaning it’s awkward and stilted and there’s only a few jokes that actually makes anyone laugh. They have pasta and spumoni for dessert and Jackson kisses Stiles goodnight before he drives home (Jackson would be meeting him later, once his parents were both out, but that was not a part of the night he wanted to broadcast). When Stiles leaves, Jackson turns to them both, and it’s like three baby deer staring into the headlights of an oncoming train. 

“Well, he... he seems nice.” His mother would speak first, and it’s the kind of sentence in the kind of tone that would usually make Jackson bristle. He would be a half second away from snarling at them, telling them that it didn’t matter what they thought, to can their niceties and their fucking lies and—

and only then would he realize that her heartbeat didn’t stutter once. 

She genuinely thought he was nice. 

Somehow, that was the biggest shock of the evening.

“He is nice. He’s... way too nice. He’s great.” Jackson probably looks as shocked as they do as he speaks, and his father seems to take the momentum and run with it. 

“He seems like he really makes you happy. It’s a good thing, Jackson. It’s good to see you happy like that, I’m... glad.” and it’s another sentence that Jackson would have put money on being a lie, but just like his mother, his father wouldn’t have a heartbeat out of place. So Jackson would nod, and wish them a good night, and practically book it to his room to call Stiles before the shock wore off and he passed out. 

By the time he falls asleep, he can barely register his mom crying upstairs. He’s made her cry before, of course, but this is the first time that she seems happy about it. 

Nothing is perfect, though, and nothing good lasts forever. They would seem to be locked in a dance of two steps forward and one step back. They would have a few great nights and then a meltdown fight, and then his parents would ignore it and it would get even worse and it would feel like they were right back to square one. 

Now, though, he had Stiles in his corner, silently nudging him to “communicate, Jacks. God, do you know how hot communication is?” and no amount of growling could get Stiles to change his mind, so the day after their next blowup, Jackson would sit down in the kitchen and demand that they talk about it. And once they recovered and said “Jackson, we don’t have anything to talk about”, he would take a deep, calming breath like Stiles had taught him, and—

and he wouldn’t smell anything. There was no malice in the air, no anger in their emotions, nothing but some confusion between them and burning bacon. They both honestly, legitimately that the fact they had all been screaming at one another last night was magically forgotten because... what, they had gone to bed and woken up the next day?

Jackson would literally leave in a state of shock, and he’d approach Stiles immediately and “Stiles I was all fucking wrong about them oh god” and Stiles would be like “what, they’re actually great people? not likely” and Jackson would be like “what? no, they’re just a totally different kind of asshole. still not in a good way.” and Stiles would be like “Jackson there is literally no such thing as a person who is an asshole but in a good way” and Jackson would be like “uh, yeah there is, that’s you” and Stiles would laugh and punch him and then kiss him. ANYWAY.

It would be as much of a shock to his parents, honestly, that Jackson had Feelings that Didn’t Go Away and it would probably take Stiles sitting in on a dinner a month to moderate conversations in a healthy way. Which, of course, would be really weird for his parents at first (”Jackson, sweetheart, Stiles is nice but he’s a child, not a therapist” “mother if you don’t talk to him about these things in person I'll only give him my side later on”), but they would both latch on to Stiles like a lifeline the moment they realized that he was fluent in Jackson speak. 

(the first few explanations that Stiles gave they actually laughed at, like they thought it was a joke. but the minute they turned to Jackson, who was bright red and stone faced and unable to meet any of their eyes, they both sobered up so fast it gave Stiles whiplash. it was a little dramatic, but if it got through to them, Stiles was okay with it.)

that time that Jackson stole his dads truck? was to go practice lacrosse after dark on the school field, where he knew his Porsche would get stuck, because he thought if he got good enough to be captain again his parents would come to a game. that time that Jackson dumped Lydia out of the blue and demanded that they change the locks on the house? because he didn’t think he could trust the one person he had given his heart to at the time, but he couldn’t risk breaking that last tie between them, just in case. the time that Jackson had come back from the winter dance after dawn, with blood spatters all over his tuxedo? 

“Jesus, his best friend had almost died. Have some compassion, you assholes.”

Stiles looked as shocked as they were, but before he could apologize, Jackson was laughing.

It would be another few months before they were finally comfortable around one another. Not great, not by a long shot, but comfortable enough that Jackson’s parents knew they actually needed to take the first step in talking with their son, and Jackson would usually actually give them a complete answer.

it wasn’t perfect, and it might never be, but it was progress. and Jackson was happy enough with that. 

one night over dinner—Stiles and Jackson’s one year anniversary—his mom has a question. “okay, so wait, what did we do wrong when you started to shred your sheets?” she asks, and Jackson and Stiles look baffled, before waiting for her to elaborate. “you know, like a year ago, maybe a little more—right before you two started dating—I used to do the laundry and find Jackson’s sheets completely torn up. Well, no, not torn, because they were cut perfectly smooth. It was like you were hacking away at your bedspread with a pair of kitchen shears.”

Stiles chokes on his coke, putting two and two together, trying not to laugh at the mental image of brand new baby werewolf Jackson accidentally clawing at his sheets. Jackson just groans, his face bright red, head on the table.