#hope y’all enjoy my brain garbage

[i-eat-worlds]

A&F Platontic Omegaverse AU

This idea manifested after a rather late night for me, and refused to leave until I wrote it. I’d be open to writing more, so if you enjoyed it, please do share.

Content: A/B/O dynamics, non-graphic medical neglect, recent past violence, medical whump, made up omegaverse medical BS that I took way to seriously, minor injuries, medic caretaker(s), and graphic depictions of anaphylaxis and allergic reactions

Eric turned out of the Wendy’s parking lot, grabbing several fries and shoveling them into his mouth. Next to him, Joseph was slurping on a chocolate frosty. He flicked on the turn signal, pulling into the left lane, when a call came in.

“It’s for us. 5067 Prince Street, apartment 134. Female omega in unpartnered heat. Neighbor called it in, said she smells sick and scared,” Joseph read from the screen.

Eric turned in the direction of the call, flipping on the lights and sirens. The sea of other vehicles parted as he accelerated down the street, speeding towards the newer apartment blocks that rose several blocks over.

“Can you get a blocker ready for me?” He asked, taking another left onto Prince Street. Joseph hummed, peeling the back o of his and pressing it onto the back of his neck over his scent glands. “Sure.”

The Prince street apartments were a newer development, meant to house the ever growing population of college students who needed a place to live. Since it was early afternoon, there was plenty of space. They grabbed the stretcher, bags piled on top of it, and headed towards the building.

It was easy to tell that the apartment number they’d been given was the right one. They could smell it from several meters away in the hallway, thick and pungent, rancid enough to make you gag if you weren’t used to it.

Hand in a fist, Joseph knocked on the door. “OEMS! We got a call for an omega in heat?”

There was a beat of silence, and the scent grew more potent. Joseph’s stomach twisted. Still no response. Behind him, Eric held up the key that had been hidden under the mat. He waited for another beat. “We’re going to come in.”

The smell was nearly overpowering as they cracked the door open. Between the apartment’s size and its sparse furnishing, it did not take long for them to locate their patient.

She was in the bathroom, half dressed and curled up on the threadbare bath mat. One eye was puy and swollen, well on its way to becoming a black eye, while the other was brimming with tears. Her mouth was hanging open, hands shaking. When she saw both of them enter the room, she inched back, a scared yelp falling out of her lips.

Joseph knelt down in front of her. “I’m Joseph, and that’s my partner Eric. What’s your name?”

“Alex.” She cringed over in pain as a cramp rolled through her.

“How are you feeling right now, Alex?” Her breaths were fast and shallow.

“Cramps are really bad, feel hot, and I’m really tired. It’s like a heat but worse.” The tears had started to dry, but she was still obviously shaken.

“I…I have a care worker but he…he…he left,” she sobbed.” He left me. He was here to give me my dose of suppressants and I was in heat so he couldn’t because I guess they stopped working for some reason…” She trailed off, trying to hold off tears.

“You’re okay, breathe for me,” he comforted. Her pulse was rabbit quick, and her skin was sweaty and warm. Behind him, Eric cracked open an oxygen tank.

“He said he didn’t want to deal with it-” She prodded at her bruised eye. “I threatened to report it and he hit me. I don’t know what to do.” Another cramp cut her off.

“We’re going to take care of you, alright?” He smiled at her, concealing the flash of anger that flared inside of them. “Do you know which suppressants you take?”

Eric looped that mask around her head. “Metip…Mecip…I don’t know how to pronounce it?”

“Mecipromide?” That was one of the more potent suppressants, and older too. It had mostly been replaced by now.

She nodded. “I don’t know how much. He alway did it.”

“Alright. Breakthrough heats aren’t rare with that. Do you take any other medications?”

She shook her head, whimpering in pain again.

“I’m going to feel your glands now, tell me if it hurts.” He reached back around to her neck, fingers pressing into the warm and swollen glands.

“Ow.” She flinched away again.

“Now for your armpits, sorry if it tickles.” They were enlarged as well.

“Czerniaks and axillaries are inflamed,” he reported to Eric before turning his attention back to Alex. “When was your last heat?”

“Three, maybe four years ago? I was eighteen or nineteen.” Her voice was shaky, fear still rolling off her.

“Aright.” That was a pretty long time to be on Mecipromide for. “Is it just your eye that’s hurt, or did you get hit in other places?”

“Just my eye.”

“How many fingers am I holding up?” He put up two fingers.

“Two.”

“Good.” He shifted back. “Is your vision blurry? Any dark spots?” She shook her head. “Do you remember getting hit?”

A quiet “yeah.”

“Good. Any dizziness, nausea, or head ache?” Her breathing had slowed, and she seemed to be calming.

“We’re gonna get you on the stretcher and to the hospital now, alright?”

She nodded, leaning closer towards him. “Thank you.” Slowly, she pushed up to standing, using the counter to steady herself. The stretcher was outside the door, only a few steps, but she faltered, stumbling forward.

Joseph immediately reached an arm out, catching her before she could hit the ground. She yelped, and her eyes went wide as her body ung itself around him and latched on tight. Her legs became Jello, and he was the only thing holding her up.

It was textbook erstratory comfort seeking behavior. He’d seen it plenty of times, at least once or twice a week, while working for OEMS, but Alex seemed more surprised by it. She immediately tried to pull away, but her body didn’t let her.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, her head pushing into the crook of his neck.

The scent blockers prevented her from smelling what she was looking for, as did the fact that he was a beta. “It’s okay. Nothing I haven’t seen before.”

Her scent had changed, less bitter, more relaxed, but still worried. “I didn’t mean to, I promise.” Another cramp tore through her, and he had to support even more of her weight.

“You’re alright. I’ll help you over to the stretcher and we’ll see if you can let go then.” He kept his arms wrapped around her, mainly to keep her upright, but also because the touch was obviously soothing for her.

She groaned, nuzzling in closer as he helped her out of the bathroom. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re okay. It’s normal.” He slowly let her down on the edge of the stretcher. “Do you think you can let go now?”

There was a tearful “no,” as she pressed into him.

“Alright.” He was quiet for a second. “I’m going to scoot you all the back to the crease, and then Eric’s gonna help you let go.”

“Thanks.” Unconsciously, she squeezed him tighter.

Joseph kept her supported as he moved her up the stretcher, one hand supporting her head and the other holding her back. She muttered something quietly into the crook of his neck. “What was that, Alex?”

“I don’t wanna let go.” Her voice was a little louder this time. “ ‘m sorry.”

“It’s alright.” Gently, he let her head down. “There's a cuddle pillow for you in the ambulance. We just gotta get you there, alright?”

“Oh…okay.” She nodded a little.

“Eric’s gonna help you let go, alright?”

Behind him, Eric started to carefully uncouple her hands, peeling her fingers off her wrists. He set them down on the stretcher, and she whimpered trying to push closer. Joseph pulled away, finally breaking contact.

Alex shrunk in on herself, another cramp ripping through her. “It ‘urts.”

“We’ll get you to the hospital, just a little longer,” he said. She reached out, wrapping a hand around the bare skin just above where his glove ended. It was clear her touch needs weren’t being met. Hopefully, the hospital would be able to set her up with a better care worker.

They put the stretcher up and pushed her to the ambulance. The scent had repelled most people, and Joseph was glad they didn’t have an audience. He locked the stretcher in place, taking a seat on her left side.

“I’m gonna get a line in while Eric gets your vitals, then we’ll get you that pillow,” he said. Her hand was still locked around his wrist, and he gently removed it so he could use her hand.

Eric clipped the pulse ox to her finger and wrapped the cuff around her upper arm while Joseph slid a 22 into her hand. She laid there, tensing up as another cramp pumpled her. “Are you allergic to anything?”

She shook her head. “Nope. Not that I know off.”

Eric rattled off her vitals, along with her weight and height, before turning around to dig out the pillow. She was warm, too warm, even for an omega in heat. Her breathing was still fast, along with her heart rate. Between that, the cramps, and the touch hunger, it seemed to be a pretty severe breakthrough estrus.

“Alex, I’m gonna give you some meds to help with your heat, alright?” He unzipped his medication bag as he spoke. “We’ll get on the road after this.”

She nodded, but was more distracted by the cuddle pillow Eric was laying beside her. Immediately, her arms and legs were wrapped around it, and exhaled as she nuzzled her face into it.

“I’m gonna get us up and moving,” Eric said as he peeled his gloves off and dropped them into the bin.

Joseph nodded, and the door closed behind him with a thunk. He quickly drew up the meds, a small dose of a mild suppressant and a synthetic hormone that would help relieve the cramps. “I’m gonna need your hand.”

She groaned, but pulled it off the pillow for him anyway. “Thank you.” He ushed the line and pushed the drugs.

Eric pulled them out of the parking lot, accelerating as he hit the main road. Alex wrapped her hand back around the pillow, curling up tighter. The pillow was helping. Her breathing and pulse had slowed, and her scent was much more relaxed. She still smelled sick, but signicantly less distressed. He made his report to the hospital, listing off the info they would need to know.

A couple minutes later, she started to scratch at her hand, picking at the Tegaderm. “I know it’s uncomfortable, but try to leave it alone. We’re only about five minutes away.”

She stopped messing with it, instead moving up higher and dragging her fingernails up and down her arm. “It itches.”

A pit opened up in his gut. This was going to be a thing now, wasn’t it? Just great. “Can I see?”

He took her arm in her hands, turning it over as he examined it. It was covered in hives. “Alex, you said you weren’t allergic to anything. Did your parents have any allergies?”

“I…uh…I don’t know. They both died when I was pretty young.” The fear had returned to her scent in full force, stinking up the back of the ambulance in the same way only it could.

“Okay. You having any diculty breathing?” Her tongue or face weren’t swollen, but he could hear each inhale and exhale.

She pulled the pillow closer. “A little.”

“I think you’re having a reaction to the meds I gave you,” he said as he drew up a syringe of epinephrine as he watched her. “I’m going to give you something to counteract it.”

Alex didn’t fight it as he took her hand in his so he could push the epi. She started to smell more frantic, her breathing speeding up. After updating the hospital and a brief chat with Eric, the sirens started to wail.

“It feels like there's something in my throat.” She said, eyes flickering around frantically. Her voice was pitched up, stress.

As he spoke, he set up his fluids. “It might take the epi a little bit to kick in. I’ve got you.”

Her expression grew more frantic, and her scent went sour, intensifying to an overpowering level. “It’s hard…It’s hard to breathe.”

“I know, I know.” He went ahead and started prepping an infusion, and upped the amount of oxygen she was receiving. “We’re nearly to the hospital. Is it getting any better?”

The epi should’ve started properly working by now, and they were only a few minutes away from the hospital. He didn’t want to stop and tube her now if he didn’t absolutely have to.

“It’s not getting worse.” She stammered, mouth hanging wide open.

“That’s good. You’re doing great.” The mass of hospital buildings was visible out of the back window. They were inches away from the ER.

She squeezed the pillow tighter, making a distressed keen. Her stats weren’t dropping and her blood pressure was holding steady. It looked like they would make it through the doors with her consciousness.

Eric turned into the parking lot and drove them up the entrance, and they wasted no time getting her into the hospital. He gave report as they transferred her from stretcher to bed, then quickly got out of the way after they weren’t needed anymore.

He’d ignored the odd pull on his heart as they left the building, chalking it up to the absolutely stink-fest the back of his rig was.

It was only ten hours later when his phone rang.

Taglist: @pigeonwhumps @rainydaywhump @painful-pooch

@rainbowsandwhumperflies @snaillamp

[brutal-nemesis]

Arthropod Day 2021: 🦀Time For Crab 🦀

Malacostraca Moment 😳🦀

So fun story I wanted this to be on a Saturday because SIDEWAYS SATURDAY but when I was deciding on the date I looked at the calendar for July without realizing it. Happy Sideways Stuesday I guess? 

Castys Masterlist

Ingredients: drowning mention, animal attack (kinda chill tho it’s not really violent), dehydration, autocannibalism mention, parasitic insects, partial nudity, heckin surgery (but it’s CONSENSUAL (⊙ˍ⊙) who am I), suicide for convenience (immortal)

“This looks like a lovely spot for a vacation; thank you guys so much for finding it for me.” The small dingy had just landed on a sandy beach enclosed by dark rocks on either side, a lush forest leading deeper into the island. Casyts’s captor glared at him before harshly tugging the rope tied to his wrists, trying to get him to stand and step onto the beach with her.

“Shut your trap, Ragnarok, or I might change my mind about gagging you. Now get up or I’ll have my men drag you.” 

Castys sighed and rolled his eyes, getting up and following her so his rope burn didn’t get any worse. “Aye aye, Yvonne.” 

“That’s Captain Veldna to you,” she growled, jerking him forward. He stumbled a bit, but he was able to catch himself before he got sand up his nose. He debated trying to yank the rope out of her hands and running away or stealing the boat, but her very strong men were right behind him and that would probably just end in him having extra bruises. So he just followed her like a stupid little goat as she led him towards the rocks, hoping she wouldn’t leave him tied up so he could at least enjoy his time being stranded. But no, this was about sending a message to his crew or making him suffer or something. He didn’t really remember, he’d been dazed as hell when he’d initially gotten captured during a fight between their two ships. Blood loss was a bitch sometimes.

They forced him to sit with his back against a large rock, yanking his bound hands above his head and worming a large nail through the knotted rope before hammering it into the rock. “Not gonna lie, this seems a little extra. I’m not going to go anywhere, so, like, just let me-” Yvonne slapped him harshly across the face.

“You’re not here to have fun, you annoying little parrot.” She looked over at her men, who had just finished tying his ankles together and nailing them down in a similar fashion to his wrists. “If you lot are done, let’s leave.” She turned back to Castys, a wicked grin on her face. “I wonder how many times you’ll die before your crew finds you?”

“My money’s on eight. Do you want me to keep track and tell you next time we see each other? If only I could write in a diary what horrors I suffer sitting on this warm rock that you tied me to during high tide so I won’t even drown later. Now that-agh!” Yvonne stabbed him in the stomach, and Castys bit back a scream as she twisted her blade. 

“The sound of your silence is something I could get used to.”

“Well, the real question is, is silence actually a sound-” Castys’s very valid observation was cut off by the bitch yanking out her sword and promptly kicking him in the stomach. He couldn’t help but cry out, doubling over as far as he could. Yeah, yeah he should probably just shut the fuck up and let them get on their merry way before he got more unnecessary injuries. 

“Enjoy your vacation, Ragnarok,” Yvonne spat. As one last gesture of maturity, she kicked sand at him before walking off, and some of it definitely got in his stab hole, so that was nice. He watched them row away, sighing. Now it was just boredom city, but hey, at least he had a nice beach view. The sun was a few hours away from setting, not that it mattered that much since his skin was dark enough that he probably wasn’t going to get sunburned. 

Being tied to a rock on the beach was...just about as boring as he expected. His arms got all tingly after a while from being stuck above his head, so he couldn’t even properly relax, and a man could only watch little waves roll for so long. He had a nice view of the setting sun, and hey, that means the light of dawn wouldn’t be shining in his face. While the sun was still a little ways above the horizon, he heard an odd rustling noise over in the vegetation, different from the background sounds he had gotten used to. He looked over, hoping it was a friendly man with a knife.

It was not a friendly man with a knife. But it wasn’t something bad, either. “Oh shit hello crabs!” Castys watched as they scuttled out of the treeline onto the beach, glad to have something fun to watch. One of them was slowly making its way towards him, and Castys wondered if he would be able to convince it to snip his bindings. “Hey there mister crab man, come on down, and please for the love of god untie me.” Yes, yes he was talking to a crab, because why not go full send on the insanity right away? It would be so much more fun, and it’s not like anyone else was here to judge him. “Yeah crab get in my zone-wow you’re kinda big.” He’d thought the crab was closer to him, but nope, it had been farther away but giant. Not like giant giant but not, like, normal crab size. It was almost as big as his torso maybe, but he was never great at estimating the relative sizes of things. 

“You’re large but you’re a gentleman, ain’t ya? I don’t know why, but you just seem like a polite fellow.” The crab stopped not too far from Castys and just looked at him blankly. Or maybe it was making a face at him, but he couldn’t read crab body language. Could anyone read crab body language? Crabs, he would hope. “Could you bring me some tea, good sir? Or just...water. Water that’s not salty. I don’t actually like tea it literally tastes like nothing but you know what I would drink it now because I am thirsty.” There was a moment of silence. “Not like thirsty in the weird way some people are. I have no idea what that’s about. But like, I want water. Or...oh my god, Mr. Crab, bring me a coconut!” Castys closed his eyes and leaned his head back. “Yeah… that would be nice. Food and water and it’s prepackaged and I don’t know how I would eat it because my hands are tied but I’ll figure it out.”

A sudden sharp pinch against his wound jolted Castys out of his daydream. He looked down in horror to see that the crab was holding something in its claws. Something pinkish-red that was dripping blood down onto the sand. The bastard. The crab brought the piece of his flesh to its mouth and just ate it while staring right at Castys. “That,” he blinked in surprise a few times, “was incredibly rude.” The crab stayed still, watching him as it did its weird mouth movements that were maybe chewing. “You are absolutely not a gentleman. I rescind everything. You little garbage boy. Rapscallion. I bet you never get invited to the crab raves.”

And the crab. Had the audacity. To reach out its stupid pincher. And do it again. “Little bitch!” Castys yelled, squirming against the ropes in an attempt to scare the thing off. Shockingly, it did not work, because wounded, dying prey squirmed all the time, and...that’s pretty much what Castys was in this scenario, wasn’t he? He was just stuck sitting here while that stupid crab ripped off little pieces of him with its stupid crab pincher and put them in its stupid crab mouth. If he was lucky, this would make him bleed out and die faster and then he wouldn’t have an open wound anymore, which would be a bonus. Though, it had sand in it, and then if it healed…

A problem for another day.

Not the next day, though, or the one after, because, hooray, he was still tied to a rock, so even though he did die a few hours later, he couldn’t do anything about the Sand In His Insides. He made up a song about it, but singing it loudly did absolutely nothing to scare away the crab, whom he had named Crabstard (Crab Bastard). Crabstard seemed to think Castys was his new best friend, coming back regularly for meals. Castys liked to imagine killing and eating Crabstard as a show of dominance, but that made him wonder...would eating Crabstard be a form of autocannibalism? Because Crabstard had eaten him...

He wasn’t sure what was worse, Crabstard and his stupid giant pinchers, or the mosquitoes. There weren’t a ton of them, but their bites were just awful, littering his arms and legs with swollen, white boils, which were unusual and also very concerning but what the fuck could he do about it. Because of course he couldn’t scratch them, and they itched so much it hurt and he just had to endure it. Just like he had to endure fucking everything. The heat of the sun, the awful tingling in his arms, the soreness of his wrists, Crabstard pinching off bits of his flesh, the maddening pain and itch of all his bug bites, the hunger and thirst, the boredom, and the...the loneliness.

No, he was fine, he was fine with just himself, it was always just him anyway. He wasn’t imagining his crew rowing to shore and untying him and tending to him in his cold, dark cabin, because he couldn’t get his hopes up, because they probably weren’t even coming for him. They were just going to leave him behind like everyone else and fuck he was wasting water like a useless idiot and he couldn’t stop or even wipe them away and he probably deserved this for everything he’d done so what did it matter?

And, great, the next day he started hallucinating a passing ship and a rowboat coming for him. Thank you, dehydrated whore brain! Let’s get our stupid little hopes up! Dang, the people on the boat kind of even looked like some of his crewmates, which was rude of his brain to make this so realistic looking.

It wasn’t until his first mate, Kaveri, was untying him that Castys realized that this was real, that they’d really...really come for him. “I’m so glad we found you, Captain.” She pulled him into a hug as soon as he was free, and he hugged her back as best he could with his sore arms. 

“I’m glad y’all did, too.” He leaned back when she let go and looked down at himself, wincing. “Well, before we get back to the ship, I am going to deliver a much needed death upon mys-“

“Captain, Captain, wait,” the ship’s medic, Sixtus, called as he ran over. He knelt beside Castys, taking his arm and examining the bug bites closely. “I knew it. These bites all over you are...they contain fly larvae. We’re going to need to dig them out before you heal yourself.”

“...what if I’ve died since I’ve gotten bitten. Like, earlier.”

“Well.” Sixtus breathed in sharply. “We will just have to wait for them to, uh, let us know where they are.” He sighed. “For now, let’s get you back to the ship and I’ll get out the ones I can. I don’t have the tools for it with me.”

“Can I kill Crabstard first?”

“Crab...stard?” Kaveri gave him a concerned look, and Sixtus felt his forehead.

“He’s a very impolite giant crab. He is my rival. I wish to vanquish him.” The other two shared a look.

“Do you know where this...this crab is?” Sixtus tried.

Castys held up a finger and opened his mouth, pausing for a second before shutting it and blinking a few times. “I. I do not. He just scuttles out of the trees to commit crimes every now and then. He has no friends.”

“Alright, in that case, no. You’re in no condition to wander around the island looking for a crab.” Sixtus held out his hand. “So, come on.”

“Fiiiine,” Castys groaned, letting the taller man help him to his feet. He was a little unsteady, but he was able to make it to the boat with Kaveri’s help. As they rowed away, he turned back to the island one last time, cupping his hands around his mouth as he yelled, “Fuck you Crabstard I hope you starve and die in a pit and the other crabs eat you!” 

Once they made it back to the ship, Sixtus ushered Castys into his office, instructing him to sit up on the examination table and take his shirt and pants off. Kaveri helped him, opting to stay in case Sixtus needed a hand. He examined Castys thoroughly, using a lightstone to get a good look at the swollen bug bites littering his body as well as the number of small wounds in his side.

“These from the, uh, crab?” Sixtus asked as he gestured to them.

“Yup. Him and his stupid pinchers.”

“Alright, I know you don’t really get infections, but I’m going to clean these out just to be safe.” He paused. “Also it just feels. Really wrong not to. It’ll bother me if I don’t.”

“Do whatever, doctor man.” Castys did his best not to let his pain show as Sixtus dabbed at his wounds with a stingy liquid. It really didn’t hurt that much, but when Kaveri placed her hand on top of his as he gripped the edge of the table, he didn’t wave her off. He’d let it be Fuss Over The Captain Day. For their sake. Because they seem to have been worried about him. 

“Alright, I’m all done with that, so if you could lay down, Captain, I’ll get started with removing those larvae. Kaveri, get him some rum and then hold him down.” She nodded, leaving and returning soon after with a small cup.

“You know, I haven’t had water in days,” Castys mused before winking at her and downing its contents. Kaveri shook her head.

“You literally emptied my waterskin while we were rowing back.”

“Oh dang, I forgot. Nevermind I’m actually not funny and am just stupid.” He scooted a bit and laid down with his hands behind his head. “Get rid of my worms.”

“They’re not-they’re not worms, Captain, they’re insects, since-” Sixtus stopped himself, folding his hands in front of his mouth. “Nevermind.” He cleared his throat. “Arms at your sides, please. Kaveri, if you would.” She nodded, holding down his shoulders as Sixtus turned Castys’s arm, locating the first larva he was going to remove. Castys breathed in sharply as the knife sliced into his arm, doing his best to keep still as Sixtus slid a pair of tweezers into the wound. The rum dulled his senses enough that it didn’t hurt as much as it could, but it certainly wasn’t painless, and he couldn’t help but gasp as Sixtus slowly pulled a small, wriggling grub out of the incision. He dropped it in a metal tray, cleaned the wound, and picked up his knife.

Then the process started all over again.

Castys didn’t bother counting how many times those tweezers probed around inside him, how many wet little plops he heard as another larva dropped into the tray. He focused on staying still, on the prickle of the rough wood table against his bare back, on the feeling of Kaveri’s hands on his shoulders, more comforting than restraining. They reminded him that he wasn’t alone in his suffering, for once. But he wasn’t supposed to need comfort, he was their immortal captain, the one who’d been through everything before and was strong enough to go through it again, the one his crew could always depend on to be strong. And here he was, teeth gritted against the pain, his forehead resting against Kaveri’s arm, fists clenched to mask their shaking, all over a few cuts and some little maggots.

“Alright,” Sixtus wiped his brow with the back of his hand, “I think that’s all of ‘em. That I can see, at least.” He looked down at Castys. “You had seventeen of those things in you, Captain.” He grimaced. “And possibly more, so please let me know if you feel anything, uh, wiggling. But for now, you’re free to...die.”

“Can’t believe I got a new world record for worm friends.” Castys grabbed the small leather pouch that usually hung around his neck from his pile of clothes, pulling it open.

“They’re not worms-”

“Thank you, Sixtus.” With that, Castys stuck his finger in the pouch and touched his death stone. He came back to life feeling infinitely better, but Kaveri and Sixtus still insisted he rest after he cleaned himself up. He grumbled, but he let Kaveri force him into his bed and bring him something to eat. Once he was finished, she collected his plate and stood awkwardly by his bedside.

“Do...do you want me to come back, Castys? Will you be alright?”

“Look, I’m honestly fine, you’re good. I’ve been through a lot worse, and I’m all healed up now so it doesn’t really matter.” 

She pursed her lips. “I suppose, but that doesn’t mean that that didn’t still take a mental toll on you, and…” she sighed. “Just...call me if you need anything, alright?”

“Will do.” She nodded, but as she started to walk away, Castys realized there was something he’d rather not leave unsaid. “Wait, Kaveri?”

“Yes?”

“Th...thank you. For, uh, finding me.”

“Of course, Castys. We’ll always be there for you.” Castys opened his mouth to reply, but he stopped himself and just smiled and nodded, his shoulders only falling once she’d left.

He wished that were true.

Castys Cult: @as-a-matter-of-whump​ @blackrosesandwhump​ @fanmanga1357-blog​​ @thehopelessopus​ @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi​ @hearse-song​ @muddy-swamp-bitch @whumpasaurus101 @yet-another-heathen​​ @galaxywhump​ @starnight-whump​ @his-unspoken-words​ @misspelledwitch

[gamerwoo]

[Tales from the Pack] Hansol: Fire and Ice (Part Four)

Characters: Hansol x female reader

Genre/warnings: werewolf au, fantasy, angst, a little bit of fluff, lots of mentions of death

Word count: 2,962

Summary: You’ve always been one to let your emotions get the best of you – your power reflects that – and you’ve never been good at expressing them. That’s why you always thought you’d be awful with a mate, but you never thought things would be this awful.

a/n: things in bold are in english. also as y’all already know, kyung is half black so i included that bit in this part since the series is from her pov. i try to mostly avoid being that specific in reader inserts but oh well lmao 

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After waking up but before the funeral, the first thing that was brought to your attention were the injuries. Jooyeon’s neck was bruised and sore – Seungcheol couldn’t help but growl whenever he really stared at it, which was often because he couldn’t stop thinking about how someone tried to strangle his mate – most of the mates and wolves had cuts and scrapes, those in town had silver bullet wounds that had to heal, and there was Hansol with silver burned into his shoulders and arms. However, Hansol never once complained about the pain when he was with you. He’d grunt and whimper softly when he moved or did things or his clothes brushed against it, but he mostly kept his discomfort to himself.

The first thing you tried was Joshua’s healing, which he was already overexerting -- and soon, he was unable to use it at all. He was trying to quickly heal everybody’s silver injuries, but Hansol’s was the biggest one, and it was deeper than the others. There were faint grey veins in his back when he took off his shirt, and you could only imagine what it must’ve felt like. But you chose to try to ignore the strong instinct to stay beside your mate. Instead, you tried to help your pack and their mates with coping.

“Where’s Rin?” you asked Jinyoung as you entered the kitchen.

“She’s been hiding ever since the night we came home,” he replied, sipping from a mug of coffee. “I saw her run outside that night, but then she went invisible. I haven’t seen her since.”

You frowned. Other than Jiung, you were closest with Rin and Chanseong. With Chanseong gone and Rin hiding – you could sniff her out, but you didn’t want to blow her cover and upset her – you felt even more alone. Your inner wolf yearned to go back to Hansol and at least watch as Joshua tried to heal him, but you ignored that feeling yet again.

“I guess I’ll…find something else to do,” you shrugged.

Jinyoung sighed, setting his mug on the counter and putting a hand on your shoulder as you turned to go, “_____, you can’t keep doing this.”

“Doing what?”

“You’re just trying to distract yourself from Hansol.”

“No,” you snapped, scowling at the younger wolf, “I’m trying to be a good alpha.”

Jinyoung’s face fell, his grip loosening, “_____, I know you must feel it, too…”

“No, it’ll go away,” you stated surely. “I’m the alpha, so I’m staying here and acting like it. I’m not letting my pack down.”

“You’re not letting anybody down, _____. You’re being too hard on yourself. And you can’t say that you’d be letting down Jiung because we both know – we all know – that he would want you to go easier on yourself, too.”

“Shut up!” you snapped, pulling away from Jinyoung and staring at the floor. You took deep breaths as you felt your temper flaring up, the skin of your knuckles starting to spark. The last thing you wanted was to set the kitchen on fire. “Just…let me do what I need to, okay? This is how I want to do things.”

You heard Rin’s voice, but you didn’t see her, “It’s how she wants to cope.”

She appeared beside Jinyoung at the counter, though she shrunk behind him like she was hiding from somebody.

Jinyoung glanced over at her before looking back at you, “What did she say?”

Rika walked into the kitchen, an empty syringe in one hand, and her hands clad in gloves, “She says it’s how _____ chooses to cope. Personally, I agree. _____ is our alpha now and she should decide what she wants to do. We can’t baby her like Jiung did.”

“You can’t seriously believe that–”

“Jinyoung,” Rika barked, tossing the syringe in the garbage. “not now.”

“How’s Hansol?” Rin wondered quietly.

Rika sighed, wiping sweat from her forehead with the back of her arm, “Nothing’s working. I recommended a doctor in the town near their new house, and he said he’ll think about it.”

“Oh, Minjee?” you asked, ignoring the fact that the two girls were speaking English to each other. “She did well with Baekhan that one time.”

“And she’s affordable for the wolves who had a harder time blending in,” Rika chuckled. “I think she’ll be able to be of the best assistance for them if even Joshua’s powers aren’t healing Hansol.”

While Rika had to repeat what she had said to Rin in English, you went to walk out of the kitchen in search of something else to keep your brain busy since now all you could think of was Hansol’s injuries. However, Jinyoung stopped you once again.

“This isn’t over, _____,” he told you. “Their pack leaves tomorrow, and you’ll have to decide. We’re having a pack meeting tonight to discuss this.”

“Whatever,” you grumbled before shrugging him off and leaving the kitchen.

-

Seungcheol’s pack stayed for two days. Two days of preparations for a ceremony that would serve as a funeral for the fallen alpha. Two days of Hansol whimpering in pain whenever anybody touched his shoulders or the back of his arms. Two whole days of Joshua doing his best to heal everybody until he physically couldn’t use his power anymore. Two days of Soonyoung sniffing around your house, which you thought was weird, but it at least lessened the tension seeing his weird behavior.

The funeral was exactly what they expected, but they found out it was a funeral for two. You were the only one who knew that Chanseong had left, but you were too out of it to do anything about it at the time. When did manage to break the news to the pack, they seemed upset but not surprised. Nobody was surprised that Chanseong would do something like that since Jiung was dead. Outside of the pack, Chanseong had no other family.

Since there were no bodies to bury, memorials were created in the backyard. On wooden crosses that your pack had made, their names were engraved into them before they were put side-by-side in the dirt. Bang Jiung and Lee Chanseong – an alpha and his mate.

You were at least thankful that Seungcheol’s pack attended and listened attentively to what your pack had to say about your brother. You could feel eyes on you most of the time, though you assumed they were afraid that you would lose your cool like you had before. However, you just stared at the ground, dressed in all black like the rest of your pack, and said nothing. 

Seungcheol’s pack also noticed that Rin was still missing -- well, she was there because the wolves could smell her, but she stayed invisible the whole time -- and everyone noticed that Hansol stood farthest away from the group. They figured Hansol wanted to still be here to pay his respects, but stood farther away since he was apparently the cause of all this in your eyes and in his own.

Once it was over, the three alphas ushered their own pack inside so that way Your pack could have some time alone to do whatever you needed to do. Suvi had turned to look at your pack right before entering the house and noticed Rin was suddenly there.

After the funeral, you still didn’t feel different -- you thought you might after waking up, too, but you didn’t. You weren’t sure if you’d even feel different after becoming the new alpha, but you thought maybe it would make you feel at least a little bit stronger or a little more sure of yourself. Instead, you just felt as broken as you did before. Nothing had changed.

You did feel something – an instinct that you already knew what it was – but you shoved that instinct down and tried to live up to the alpha you knew your brother would want you to be. Maybe if you really acted the part, you’d feel it – everyone would. At least, that’s all you could hope for.

-

Since you’d missed seeing Eunjin, you spent most of your time sitting beside her. Unlike the other mated couples, her and Seungkwan weren’t all over each other. They didn’t bother asking you about any of your problems, and you enjoyed listening to them talk about anything -- from things Eunjin was hearing, to Seungkwan just telling her old stories of the pack.

As they spoke about their different traditions from their home countries, you spoke up about one thing in particular, “That is something I never understood…”

“What?” Seungkwan asked, his hand wrapped around Eunjin’s tiny one.

“When Koreans marry, nobody takes the other’s surname,” you clarified, looking between the couple. “America’s the same way as Eunjin’s home country where if you and Eunjin got married, Eunjin would become Boo Eunjin. Then again, I guess getting married isn’t something werewolves do either, huh?”

“We are,” Yeji suddenly interjected, listening to the conversation.

“What?” Jihoon asked, being taken off guard by the suddenly remark by his mate, and making the others in the room chuckle.

You even cracked a small smile.

“We’re getting married,” she repeated, “…right?”

Quickly, Jihoon nodded, “If that’s what you want to do, then of course.”

“Good answer,” Wonwoo nodded, nudging his brother with his elbow.

“You’re such a sucker for her,” Soonyoung said teasingly, rolling his eyes.

Danbi looked to you, her soft smile growing wider when she looked at you like she was just trying to make you happy. Danbi was a cute girl.

“What about you, _____?” she asked. “Did you want to get married?”

You just shrugged, “I don’t know. I would fantasize about it a lot when I was a child but after living the life of a werewolf for so long and learning more of their customs, I don’t think I’d mind either way.”

“Where exactly are you from, _____?” Soomin inquired, leaning forward like she was genuinely interested.

“I’m from America, and I would visit once a year, but I don’t remember my birth parents,” you admitted with a shrug, your hands folding together in your lap. “My adoptive ones managed to save a picture of them, so I know what they looked like at least -- not that I care. But my mother was white and my father was black. Me and Ji– Um…I’m not as dark as my dad, but I’m darker than my mom, obviously.”

Eunjin looked at you with a hint of a smile on her pink lips as her wide blue eyes took you in, softly saying, “You’re really pretty, _____. I’ve always thought your hair was pretty, and you have a cute nose.”

“Thanks,” you could feel your cheeks heating up as you looked at your lap. You knew Eunjin was too genuine, so you knew she truly believed the comments she made about you. She was too sweet for this awful world.

“_____,” you heard Hanbin call you from the kitchen. You looked up to see him wave you over. “C’mon.”

You sighed, standing up, “I’ll talk to you guys later.”

“Okay!” Danbi chirped.

You walked out of the living room normally before dragging your feet through the kitchen. You knew why you were dreading this pack meeting but you tried to not let those reasons get to you. You were going to have to face the reality of the situation even if you didn’t want to. You could pretend as long as you wanted, but your instincts knew the truth – all of them knew the truth.

Hanbin held the back door open for you to walk out onto the wrap-around porch and down the steps to the backyard. You joined the group that had already formed around the large fire, standing around it to warm their faces and hands.

“Alright,” Jaesang spoke up once you and Hanbin had joined the group, “now that the alpha is here, we can start.”

You just stared down at your boot-clad feet.

“Have you made any decisions, _____?” Jimin wondered softly.

“I already told Jinyoung what I’m doing,” you grumbled.

Across the fire, you could hear Rika whispering translations to Rin.

“You shouldn’t–”

“Jinyoung,” Hanbin spoke up, placing a hand on your back, “let’s let _____ explain herself. What did you decide, _____?”

“I’m staying with my pack,” you stated, finally lifting your head to look at each member. “I’m going to be the alpha, and I’m going to do it well.”

“You do know that’s suicide, right?” Rin asked, her voice hard as her golden eyes glared at you. “You’re just going to kill yourself, and then you won’t be an alpha even if you–”

“Corinne,” Rika whispered harshly.

“At least I’m not playing hide-n-seek with the other pack!” you shouted, already getting worked up at Rin’s insinuation.

Rin’s cheeks flushed, and she averted her eyes to the fire.

“I vaguely got an idea of what Rin said,” Hyojun spoke up, his hands shoved into his pockets as his mate clung to one of his arms, “but I know she’s right. _____, if you deny Hansol, you’ll kill him and yourself. I’m not saying you should listen to us, but I think you should think this over a bit more. At least promise us that, yeah?”

You stared at Hyojun for a moment before instinctively looking up at Hanbin. Then your eyes flickered to the fire after realizing you were the alpha and you were to make your own decisions.

With a sigh, you nodded once, “I’ll think about it.”

“Thank you,” Hanbin nodded, sounding almost relieved and happy. “We’d rather have you out of the pack and safe, than in it and dead.”

Most of the pack brought their mates and themselves back inside, but you stayed outside by the fire. You stared deep into the flames, trying to sort through the maze of thoughts you had. You knew you’d be digging your own grave if you denied your mate since you had the same strong urges, but you hoped that pretending they didn’t exist would just make them go away. But at the same time, the wolf side of you just didn’t want to ignore those feelings.

You let out a groan, dropping your head into your hands. You had thought everyone had gone inside but you felt a strong arm tug you into their side, and you already knew who it was: Hanbin.

You weren’t sure how long you stayed outside to think in the quiet of the night, but Hanbin stood by you the entire time. All you could think as you stared into the fire that only reminded you of your own temper, was that Hanbin would make a better alpha than you ever could.

-

The pack was leaving around 7am, and your pack met them outside to say goodbye. Most of your pack shook hands with the others, some of the mates hugged the other mates. Soonyoung was still acting weird, but at this point, you figured that was just typical Soonyoung. You stayed toward the back, though, as you were supposed to make your official decision.

The entire time, you felt eyes on you. From your pack and theirs, but you mostly felt Hansol’s boring into you. You just kept your eyes on the ground, waiting for the inevitable.

“It’s been a pleasure meeting you and your pack,” Hanbin said, shaking hands with the three alphas, “and if you ever need anything else, just give us a shout.”

“Eunjin’s got that covered,” Seokmin joked.

Finally, Hanbin turned to you, waving you over. Your feet robotically moved one in front of the other, but the whole thing felt like a blur. You felt like you weren’t even in your own body.

“So, _____,” Hanbin put a warm hand on your shoulder, looking down at you.

But the one to ask the question wasn’t Hanbin.

“_____,” Hansol spoke up suddenly, his voice soft but capturing your attention easily. You looked at him as he walked over, though you could see the pain in his face he was trying to hide from his clothes moving against his injuries. He stopped in front of you, yellow eyes staring deeply into yours. “I know you hate me, and I know what I did is unforgivable. Despite everything that happened, I promise to work as hard as I have to to make you happy again. I don’t care if it takes me until I die, I swear I’ll make you happy someday. I’ll love you with my whole heart, and I’ll always take care of you. So…will you come with me and be my mate?”

Both packs were silent as you and Hansol looked at each other. Most of you – maybe all of you – was screaming to take his hand and let him lead you off to a new life. You knew even your own pack wanted you to go with him just so you’d be alive and be well taken care of because they knew Hansol would be able to keep you under control after what happened in the woods the other night. Nobody else in your pack could ever do what he could do. Nobody could ever keep you out of trouble like Hansol could. Nobody could even touch you when your powers were in use, but Hansol could easily.

But your lips parted to speak, and you barely whispered the word, “No.”

Then you turned away from the pack and made your way through your smaller one, going into the house and not sparing Hansol a second glance.

You were an alpha, just like Jiung, and you were going to be strong like him.

[feverdreamsandlucidnightmares]

At the request of @katc325 and @unproductive-college-student I’ve turned a bunch of the stuff my friend group has said into incorrect batfam quotes. Hope y’all enjoy 

——————————————————————————

Jason: if I was a snake I could slither away from my problems

Tim: prefer to be lizard

Tim: legs

Tim: warm rock

Jason: no I’d rather crawl on my belly eating dirt like the sinner I am

——————————————————————————

Damian: Scorpions glow

Damian: Snapple fact #733

Stephanie: love that you funky little glow sticks

——————————————————————————

Stephanie: are platypus fish for lent purposes?

Damian: platypus are endangered

Stephanie: yeah and also not a staple of our cuisine but theoretically

Tim: *walking past* are ~people~ fish for lent purposes?

——————————————————————————

Bruce: *in an interview* oh my worst enemy? ....children™️

His actual hoard of children: 🙂🙂

OR

Ra’s al Ghul: oh my worst enemy? ....children™️

Tim Drake: *dismantling yet another league of assassins base* unfortunate

——————————————————————————

Red Robin!Tim: Hood has given me a wonderful idea and we’ll all suffer for it

His siblings: ....

——————————————————————————

Tim, 43 hours into a case: I wish me more brain cells

Jason: *hysterical laughter*

——————————————————————————

Damian, thinking about the old Batman and Robin costumes: I don’t actually care if you’re even wearing underwear so long as it doesn’t become a me problem

——————————————————————————

Jason, after being questioned about his decision to use the Joker’s old alias: no one wants to look like that nasty lookin clown bent coat hanger of a garbage can Harley

Jason (still about the Joker): ugly pasty slimeball of an OSHA violation

——————————————————————————

[maybedefinitely404]

Day 21: Prinxiety (pt 2)

@tsshipmonth2020

Day 21: Combine two soulmate prompts. (This will make sense soon, I promise.)

It’s the sequel you’ve all been waiting for! This is the second part to day 16 (read that first!!!!!), and y’all finally get to see what happened to Virgil! Please heed the trigger warnings below.

TRIGGER/content WARNINGS!! Anxiety, food mention, crappy foster system/group homes, implied past abuse, religious guilt/negative view of religion, homophobia, conversion therapy/abuse, starvation, sneaking medication (antipsychotics/side effects), electrocution, seizure, ambulance. I’m sorry. 

Word count: 3.8k

Unlike most kids in the foster system, Virgil didn’t know his birthday. He knew it was sometime in December, but that didn’t do much. Technically, birthdays weren’t really a huge thing anyways, not when the group home he rarely left was awfully underfunded, and a party came second to little things like working sinks and clothes without holes. Even still, all the other kids at least got a little cupcake and a half hearted birthday song on their special day, and his festivities were pushed onto Christmas. He didn’t get a weak excuse for a celebration, because the other kids ‘found it unfair’ that he got that and Christmas in the same month. To prevent an upheaval, the workers told him that he’d just have to be happy with what he got.

But it wasn’t fair, because some kids got Easter and a birthday, or Halloween and a birthday, or New Years and a birthday, and poor Virgil didn’t. The fact of the matter was, they plain didn’t like him. The other kids didn’t like that he got extra free time because of his anxiety, or was allowed to leave the table when they weren’t, and they especially didn’t like he was the youngest of the bunch. The youngest had the highest chance of getting adopted, it was just facts, so they had seemingly decided that if his stay here would be the shortest, it would be the most tortured. 

It wasn’t the shortest stay, though. With his barrage of anxiety related issues and group-home-toughened demeanor, no foster home wanted to deal with him. He was snarky, ran away, regularly got in fights with the biological children of the parents, and was promptly labeled a problem child. Eventually, it was deemed easier for him to just stay in a group home until he outgrew the system, since he seemed set to escape every other place. Virgil tried to pretend it didn’t hurt as much as it did; it was his fault, after all. As he watched all his older tormentors grow out of a crooked system, he resigned himself to the same fate. After all, he was almost sixteen now, and he knew his chances were out. So he stayed stuck in his group home, lashing out at his caretakers and therapists, refusing to eat unless it was alone in his room (technically, three kids slept in there, but he so rarely left it, and they wanted to avoid him, it was unofficially deemed his room), and listening to music on his phone.

He’d been given the phone on his fifteenth birthday, a gift from one of his caretakers. It was the cheapest piece of crap he’d ever seen, glitched out every other minute and needed to be charged at least three times a day, but it was a phone nonetheless. Granted, he had no one to text. But he had access to a computer, a totally one hundred percent legal music downloading website, and a strong sense of determination, so he’d soon filled the phone’s entire measly storage with all the music he could cram on the thing. 

That’s what he was doing on the night of December 18th, listening to his “Emo Playlist” on a pair of $4 Dollar Store earbuds, laying on his bed and finding shapes in his popcorn ceiling as the moon shone through the window. In the bunk beds across the room from him, his two other roommates were fast asleep, but he couldn’t follow suit. It was sadly normal for Virgil to have sleepless nights where no matter what, his anxious brain just wouldn’t shut off, and it just felt like one of those nights. His hands shook and his eyelids flinched every few seconds for no reason, so he turned the music just a little bit louder and tried to calm his breathing. 

It was just past 1 am when his life changed forever. 

He was on the fourth cycle of his playlist, eyes no more heavy than hours before and just as flinchy. It was just entering the “existential crisis” time of the night where he started questioning reality, and he was about to give in and start letting his mind drift to darker places, when a song distinctly not his began to play in the midst of a song switch.

How can you miss someone you’ve never met?

Because I need you now but I don’t know you yet,

But can you find me soon, because I’m in my head,

Yeah, I need you now but I don’t know you yet.

He froze, eyes suddenly wide open, and yanked the earbuds out of his ears. The song continued; not in his headphones, but in his head. It didn’t take an idiot to realize that it was his soulmate, responding, and as an afterthought, Virgil suddenly identified that today was probably his birthday. Both amazing revelations, but one was slightly more time sensitive. 

Desperately scrolling through his playlists as the song stopped after the chorus, he tried to find a song that would be an adequate introduction to this new person. When his eyes landed on a song from his Adele phase (he didn’t talk about that time) that he hadn’t had the energy to delete yet, he simultaneously groaned and grinned. Subtly meme-y, heartfelt like the song his soulmate had played, a decent greeting. He tapped play. 

Hello,

It’s me.

He hoped his soulmate had the same sense of humor of him and had actually given a laugh, since he was trying to stifle laughter behind his sleeve to avoid waking the sleeping kids. He paused after the first verse, since he didn’t really want to remember that phase of his life more than he had to, and waited for the other to play the next song. Hopefully they could work out some sort of rhythm, play songs back and forth. He for sure wouldn’t be able to sleep now.

(The next song his soulmate played was an almost atrocious obviously-musical-theatre song that almost made Virgil hit his head against the wall, so he retaliated with a favorite of his, the most ear assaulting screamo he could find on his playlist.)

The clock had just passed four in the morning when there was a small pause in the routine, before his soulmate played a children’s lullaby. It definitely wasn’t something you’d listen to in everyday life, so Virgil could only assume it was the other’s way of indicating that they had to sleep. As if I’m going to let you go that easily, Virgil smirked, opening YouTube and begging that the video he’d chosen would play without an ad.

It did, filling his crackling, cheap earbuds with the opening chorus of Baby Shark. Fight fire with fire, he decided, chuckling to himself as he turned off the song just before the ‘mommy shark’ verse. Silence filled his head and he mentally wished the other a good night, turning onto his stomach and screaming into his pillow, grinning madly. 

Eight months later, their new way of life was deeply imbedded into him; getting woken up at asscrack o’clock in the morning by a worker who wanted to be there as much as he did, and either playing his morning playlist to get himself slightly more ready to face another monotonous day or waiting in silence until his soulmate woke up and played their own music. He’d begrudgingly started to even enjoy the showtunes. Everyone around the home had noticed his gradual shift in attitude, and he couldn’t help the natural smiles that pulled at his cheeks when a new song played out of nowhere. It got to the point where his therapist noticed his lifted mood, and the other kids stopped avoiding him and, unknown to Virgil, his social workers decided that he was ready to try another foster home. 

That’s why, eight months later, there was a knock on his bedroom door and his main worker poked in her head, asking him to come downstairs. He’d been playing music for his soulmate, so he silently apologized and joined her at the dining room table, giving her a half hearted smile. 

“Virgil, we’ve found a new home for you. A foster home that specializes in… harder to place cases. They’ve opened their doors to you, and we’re hoping to get you into a trial period there within the next week.”

At first, Virgil vehemently refused. No. He didn’t want to go back to foster homes, not after… everything he went to in the first few. The ones that hurt him, the ones that were more densely crowded than group homes, the ones that turned him into the angry shell he was before he had met a sign of a possibly happy future. He didn’t want to lose the progress he’d made. 

But Bev looked so hopeful, so pleadingly at him, that he gave in after three days of denying. He said goodbye to the kids he’d unfortunately grown attached to, threw his few belongings into a black garbage bag, and got into his worker’s car for the first time in years. Just rebuckling that seatbelt caused a shudder to run up his spine. 

------1 month later------

“Virgil, what are you doing? Do you have earbuds in? We’ve made it abundantly clear that you are not to have technology at the table.”

Virgil fought every urge in his body to roll his eyes, flicking his hair behind his ears to show they were empty. It had gotten long and shaggy, just reaching his jaw in the back. “No earbuds. My soulmate’s listening to music, and it’s catchy.” Frankly, he was surprised he hadn’t been caught bopping along to silence before by the stiflers. 

They were nice enough, a woman and a man and their two biological children, but they were too religious for Virgil’s liking. He’d never had qualms with religion before, but he had grown tired of spending Saturdays and Sundays (his only days off from their homeschool regime) in a church, surrounded by older people singing repetitive songs and being yelled at by a guy on the pulpit. Faking being sick only worked so many times before they refused to listen to his excuses. They also insisted he go to a specialized youth group on Tuesdays, but that was easy enough to escape. He just waved by and booked it to the closest 7/11 when they left, making sure he was back at the church by the time it was over and made up some bullshit about the gathering. Jameson, the attendant at the gas station, was becoming the closest friend he’d ever had. 

“Your soulmate?” One of the children asked around a bite of toast, spitting a decent amount onto Virgil’s sleeve. 

“Like daddy and I, Mariam.” The woman explained briefly, not bothering to chastise her about speaking with her mouth full. 

“Yeah.” Unlike most of the kids at his old group home, he wasn’t warming up to theirs. They were too spoiled, too bratty. One had even bit him in his first week here and he was still bitter about it. 

“When did you connect with yours, Virgil?” The question wasn’t asked kindly, more for the sake of being polite, and he assumed if he didn’t answer in an equally polite tone, they’d probably make him paint a fence or something. 

He knew they cared about his bond about as much as he did about theirs. Which was approximately none. The mom took her children’s empty plates and placed them in the sink, Virgil quickly following suit. No use losing more computer time because he didn’t clean his plate.  

“Last December. I didn’t even know it was my birthday, and they started playing music out of nowhere. It was pretty cool.” He finished rinsing off his plate and was confused at the sudden stillness in the room.

“‘They’?” The mom asked, giving her husband what she must have believed to be a subtle glance.

“Uhm… yeah?” Virgil said slowly, “I’m bisexual. So I’m not sure if my partner’s a guy or a girl or… something in between. So… they?” 

He stared with rising anxiety as the two parents had a silent interaction over the kitchen island, before the dad stood up. “Kids, plates in the sink and then go get ready for church. Virgil, you too.”

There was minimal whining as the younger ones did as they were asked, racing each other up the stairs. Virgil followed, slower, listening to hushed beginnings of a conversation, unable to fight the feeling that he’d just royally fucked up. 

------------------------

“Virgil, may we speak with you for a moment?”

He froze, slowly turning from where he’d been half way up the stairs. They’d just wrapped up lessons for the day (Virgil never thought he’d miss an actual school building before, but alas) and the kids had been excused, leaving just him and the parents behind. It had been almost a week since the incident, and a part of him had been hoping they’d just drop it. There wasn’t much they could do, anyways; if their religion conflicted so badly with his sexuality, the worst they would do is send him back to the home anyways. In all honesty, he kind of hoped they would. He was sick of being here, and it was better for his record if he didn’t run. 

Not that it mattered much anymore. He was almost aged out of the system anyways. 

He took a cautious seat back at the dining room table, which they had just cleared from classes. The mom sat back in her chair, eyeing him carefully, as the dad began to speak.

“We spoke with our pastor the other day, and we think it would be best if we put you in therapy.”

“I don’t…” He’d stopped regular therapy at the group home almost a month before coming here, and he couldn’t imagine why he’d need to go back. He definitely wasn’t happy here, but he didn’t figure a grumpy mood was enough to warrant counseling. “I don’t understand.”

“After… what you told us? About your… urges-”

“Urges.” He couldn’t help his own disgusted tone. Of course they were homophobic.

“Yes. Our pastor suggested we try conversion therapy.”

Virgil scoffed, but he couldn’t ignore the way his heart started pounding, “Right. As if you could ever get my social workers to approve that. Ward of the state, remember?” He tapped his chest a couple times.

“Fortunately, we already talked to your social worker, Virgil. We had it approved just this morning.” The man finally stopped, as if waiting for a response.

Virgil’s eyes grew wide as he looked frantically between the two of them, the woman quickly avoiding eye contact. That wasn’t normal. 

“There’s no way in hell that you-”

“Profanity, Virgil!” The man barked and Virgil shrank back in his chair, impulsively ducking to avoid a fist that didn’t come. They hadn’t hit him so far, but old habits die hard. “We’ve already signed you up. Your first session is tomorrow. First thing’s first-” He stood up, reaching a hand out to a still-shaking Virgil, “Hand over your phone.”

-------------------------

His hair was short now. Shorter than he could ever remember it being. He missed his bangs, he missed the tiny boosts of confidence it gave him when the rest of his appearance disgusted him. Now there was nothing for his hands to run through. There was no style to it, just an electric razor in the hands of his silent foster mother. He should have fought it, he really should have, but he was shaking far too much to try to move.

He didn’t like hands so near his throat. 

------------------------

Surely, his social worker didn’t approve of this. The only explanation Virgil could possibly rationalize was they’d lied about the purpose of the therapy, or the method, or something. But any type of change in a foster kid's life had to go through about a million different levels to get approved, so how the hell were they getting away with this?

It wasn’t too bad. A lot of it was using religious guilt, something Virgil did not have much of, saying he was immoral and inhumane. The rest of it was just his new therapist trying to dig into his supposed ‘trauma’ that made him ‘this way’, as if there was something that caused it. They talked a lot about his old foster homes, and his therapist seemed positive something there had to be the root to everything. It made his blood boil.

It didn’t help that they still hadn’t given his phone back, and they confined him to his room when he wasn’t doing school work at the kitchen table. He could hear the way his soulmate was losing morale, the longer he didn’t respond. The songs were darker, and were few and far between. They still refused to play songs on what he’d called ‘his days’.

--------------------

His ‘therapy’ had ended hours ago, and yet he couldn’t stop twitching. Every time he closed his eyes in a vain attempt to sleep, it was like the electrodes were attached to him again. The images they’d shown him flashed before his eyes, of men kissing, holding hands, and were quickly followed by the sharp sting of electric shocks. He couldn’t close his eyes without flinching violently, no music to calm his nerves.

Virgil didn’t sleep that night.

----------------------

He held to the music like an anchor, soaking in every rare song his soulmate played like a sponge. It was his only relief from the hunger pangs in his stomach, reminding him that he hadn’t been allowed to eat at all in the day leading up to another therapy session. Apparently they wanted to put him on some kind of medication, try to increase the intensity of his sessions. It was getting to the point where Virgil was tempted to pretend it was working just to make them stop. 

He missed his soulmate. 

----------------------

No. He’d said no to the drugs. They wanted to put him on anti-psychotics, claiming he was severely mentally ill, and he’d downright refused. There was no way in hell he was going on anti-psychotics. Finally, after days of their demanding being met with stubbornness, they’d given in. 

That had been a month ago. Maybe. Time had gotten kind of funny, like in that limbo between Christmas and New Years, or in the depths of summer break. It had been a while, for sure. They still fed him so rarely a growling stomach was more common than a full one, claiming it was part of his new therapy. He couldn’t help wonder why he was gaining weight, though. He’d been underweight for a majority of his life, thanks to a constantly overworking metabolism and genetics, along with the nasty food they served at group homes that he gladly avoided, but he was starting to fill out slightly. His ribs were barely showing. 

That would be a symptom of being on antipsychotics, he knew from previous research. But he wasn’t on them, so why…?

He took another sip of his apple juice his foster mom had brought him, trying to focus on his homework. Had apple juice always tasted that bitter?

-----------------------

They’d gone too far this time, Virgil knew that much. Curse his stubbornness, his inability to just lie and go along with it. He could have just claimed the conversion therapy was working, ‘oh golly, I’m healed!’, and go on with his life, finally talk to his fucking social worker, but no. He wasn’t capable of that. 

They’d shown him more pictures, shocking him more frequently, refusing to stop the session even as tears streamed down his face. It just hurt so bad. Then he remembered a shout (maybe his own?), blinding pain, and the next thing he knew, he was in his foster dad’s car. He said he’d had a seizure, but he was okay now, so they were heading home. A cup of water was forced down his throat and he was laid down in bed, commanded to rest. He was so confused, but also so tired, so he let his eyes drift shut. 

Just before he lost consciousness for the second time that day, he heard a soft melody drift through his mind as his soulmate played another song. It had been so long since the last time he’d heard them play music… despite his exhaustion, he fell asleep with a smile on his face. 

--------------------

The days had been a bit of a blur since his seizure. It was probably because his brain had done the human equivalent to ‘Have you tried turning it off and back on again?’, but even that was hazy in his mind. All he wanted to do was sleep, to rest, to not have to do the school work that they were still shoving down his throat. From where he was laying motionless in his bed, he watched the slowly setting sun dip below the horizon. 

There was a knock at the door downstairs. Virgil flinched from the noise, triggering a series of twitches down his spine and into his limbs. People were talking downstairs. He could distinctly hear the voice of his foster parents, but the others were unfamiliar. They were getting louder, near shouting, and there were pounding footsteps echoing up the stairs and down his hallway. 

He couldn’t even find the energy to be scared as his door was thrown open and a man’s voice shouted, “He’s in here!”. A flurry of people stormed into the room, the ones in the lead dressed in blue. 

Clambering, people shifting to make space, a woman holding his hand. She was asking him questions as they loaded him into a stretcher and he tried his best to answer, but he was just so tired. His name was said multiple times, as well as the names of his foster parents, but it was hazy, so hazy… 

“We were just trying to help, I didn’t want this to happen, I don’t-”

“Quiet, woman!”

She raised her voice but it was growing farther away. Virgil realized with a start that he was looking at the sky, bumping along on the gravel path, the bright lights of an ambulance flashing across his vision. 

The husband shouted again, trying to silence his wife. That was the last thing Virgil heard as the doors slammed shut, and he finally allowed his eyes to close. 

Part 3 HERE

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[sparklingchan]

Taste of Spring || Han Jisung (Stray Kids)

Pairing : Reader (fem.) x Han.

Word count : 2.4k+

Warnings : Cuss words, slight mentions of heartbreak, not proof read. .

Genre : Fluff, slight angst , best friends to lovers AU.

Description : For Jisung, the world is either black or white - friendship or love. You happen to find yourself stuck in the grey.

A/N: Haven’t written an skz drabble in a while so yeah, here it is(whatever this is lol) and I’ve had this in my drafts for a whole month now. Damn. Sorry, Jisung.

I hope y’all like it <3

Enjoy!

You had not seen your best friend in what felt like ages when in reality it had only been two weeks or so. But you often find yourself missing him at odd hours ,at the most random moments these days.

"I'll be back before dinner. Take care of my cat. Please." You call out to your sister who sits on the couch , sipping some cucumber induced water that apparently burns calories, and watching a very brutal, violent TV show that you wouldn't even want to ask her about.

"Say hi to Jisung for me." she replies with a quirk of an eyebrow, her lips curving into a sly grin. You roll your eyes but the heat has already tinted your cheeks and ears red by the time you exit your house and are walking down the street towards Han Jisung's abode.

As you continue on the road, you feel the taste of an incoming Spring in the air, sweet and full of love. You didn't know why or how or even if it were at all possible in the first place, but you could feel spring knocking on the door ,waiting to be welcomed in.

An old couple walks past you, hand in hand and eyes focused on each other and you inevitably catch yourself thinking about Jisung for some reason. You've both made a lot of fond memories during your spring breaks - you were both inseparable back then.

Even now you are inseparable but things are different.

He was your best friend and nothing more ,yet you find yourself questioning your true feelings towards the boy these days more often than not ,all whilst wondering when you had crossed over the line of wanting to be friends to something more.

"Oh,y/n! Come on in ,honey." Jisung's mother has been nothing but sweet to you throughout all 18 years of your life and you honestly blamed her for making you want to visit their place more often.

But then again, maybe it's not really the mother's hospitality that pulled you in, maybe it is her son's tooth decaying sweetness that brings out the deepest desires from your heart.

You walk into their house , a sense of familiarity washes over you just how it does whenever you walk into your own house too.

"He's in his room ,as usual. Go on. I'll send some snacks in for you." She adds, patting you softly on the shoulder.

Jisung's room is almost always a mess and sometimes one might even find the boy leaving a trail of garbage everywhere he goes, so you aren't surprised when you find a few crumpled piece of paper lying just outside his door. Clumsy little Han.

"Ji-" your words are cut short when you hear his voice from inside , as loud as ever, probably speaking to one of his friends who he also lovingly refers to as his babies(he sometimes calls you baby too ; on purpose or by accident, who knows?) But he seems very into the conversation right now - almost serious which you find rather unlikely for Han Jisung who has very proudly nicknamed himself as Comedian Han since eight grade.

It's the semester break and spring is around the corner - two things Jisung loves the most in the world so there should be no apparent reason for him to be having this deep of a conversation, especially early in the morning. However as his voice grows louder and more frustrated , you cannot help but wonder if there is actually something seriously troubling him.

Curious , you peek into the room through the small crack of the door.

"I know I'm being a coward Changbin but I can't do that to her. She's all I have ,man." he speaks into the phone , leaning down on his rotatory chair.

You freeze in your spot,your heartbeat resonating from every inch of your body. Who's he talking about?

"What? Are you out of your mind? I cannot tell her what I feel. That's the whole point of this damn phone call ,you fucker!" he yells.

You focus harder on their voices , trying to make out the gibberish Changbin replies with from the other end of the call.

Your body aches from standing so soundlessly, leaning half against the wall and half against the wooden door but you tell yourself to bear it for a little longer.

"No. No way. I can't. I can't do this to y/n!" Jisung hisses into the phone and then with a big pop, your bubble bursts -a bubble that you'd been building since you both were kids , designed carefully with dreams and hopes of a happy ever after with the boy in front of you. But you were weaving these dreams out of nothing but thin air. There never was anything to begin with and you always knew that.

Of course he has another girl in his life. He doesn't owe anything to you. You have no right to feel these strong emotions of jealousy and anger. You are just friends, right?

But imagining him with another woman was a poison you didn't put too much thought into until this very moment. You should have been prepared, really.

All hopes have left your side.

You turn around and walk out the same way that you came in , ignoring his mother's questions and concerned gaze. 

You want to be alone right now. Alone and away from everything that ever connected you with Han fucking Jisung.

***

He is a peculiar man, your best friend , loud yet calm , talented yet humble,his songs make more sense than his words ever could - but he intrigues you so much. It would take you a lot of time to figure Han Jisung out and you had only hoped to solve this puzzle before.. well , before he chooses to hold someone else's hand in the walk of life while you just watch from a far.

And now, you've finally run out of that borrowed time. Without even finishing half of the puzzle . The last tick of your time together has tocked.

That night, as you let the arms of grief and heartbreak pull you in , your cat(also called Snowflake) cuddles right beside you, staring at you as if it understood you.

Maybe it did. Because even you couldn't understand yourself anymore.

***

"Y/n, wake the fuck up! Come on,open the door." Your sister bangs on your door while simultaneously throwing words at you that were extremely inappropriate for an early morning conversation.

Annoying bitch. She's never cared to wake you up in the morning all your lives. Why is she changing her ways now?

You groan into your pillow, "Go away! I'll be out when I want to."

Your eyes barely find enough strength to keep themselves open. Your body aches and the bedsheet creases on your skin show evidence of a very good night's sleep in contrary to the misery you were subjected to just a few hours before that.

A heavy heart induces a good sleep , you conclude.

"I literally do not care about what you want ,y/n!" She yells against,her fist pounding against the door with more force now than from a while ago,"Come out. Right this instant."

Snowflake - who was chilling on the floor, playing with her toys - jumps on the bed ,pressing her fluffy body against your chest ,eyes glazed with fear.

"Fine. Fine. Can you stop yelling? You're scaring my baby." You reply, taking Snowflake into your arms as you run a soothing hand through her white fur.

Forcing yourself out of bed , you waddle towards the door.

"What do you want?" You unlock the door and with hooded eyes , yell at your sister, "Can you not be so fucking annoying this early in the morning?!"

Instant regret is what you feel the moment your sister steps aside, and you see the blurry figure of Han Jisung in front of your bedroom door.

Pure terror seizes you ,as your brain loses all its ability to form any response in that moment, “Hi, y/n. Can we please talk?" Jisung says, his mouth twisted into a sad smile and his puffy eyes looking at the floor.

Has he been crying? 

He wears his favorite black hoodie and a pair of grey track pants along with his SpongeBob flip flops. The bird nest on his head looks even more disheveled today, even so you find your heart beat fasten seeing this domestic look on him.

No matter what, Han Jisung is pretty.

Really pretty.

And if you were given a coin everytime you acknowledged it, you'd be a millionaire by now.

"Aw, Jisung honey, don't ask. Just walk into her room. I'm sure she's glad to see you too." Your sister replies in your stead ,sending glares towards you as if to say 'You better listen to him.'

And you're too shocked to react when he politely brushes past you and walks inside your room, settling himself at the edge of the bed. You make sure to shove a middle finger up in front of your sister's face before following suit .

Jisung's enquiries start the moment you step inside.

"I was so worried, y/n. You left my house without saying anything to anyone. Your phone was off. I wanted to come here but mom said you looked upset and that I should wait until the morning. " he sucks in a deep breath , "Y/n, baby, what the fuck happened?"

There's that word again. That damn word which has the ability to set your whole body on fire even on a cold morning like this one.

You hate the affect he has on you. You hate the affect his words have on you.

"Nothing." You mumble.

Snowflake wiggles out of your arms, and towards him.

Betrayer.

"Don't even lie to me. I am not that stupid." Jisung argues as Snowflake settles in his lap, "Y/n, have I not made it clear that I will be here for you, no matter what?"

You want to laugh. He really thinks you trust him so much that you'd tell him everything going on with you.

He's delusional - you can't possibly tell the boy you are in love with that he is the boy you are in love with. It's completely mental.

"I'm not in the mood for this conversation right now. Go home, Sungie." You say , sitting down on the bed, as far away from his warm body as possible.

Jisung sighs, "Not happening. You can call the police for all I care but I'm not moving my ass before you tell me what happened."

Snowflake snuggles into his tummy, Jisung's fingers giving her soft belly and ear rubs. 

So this is what your life has come down to - you are jealous of your cat who is getting more affection from your best friend slash crush (who is interested in someone else) than you ever did. Brilliant.

"I fucking love you , you dumb fuck. Why do you never notice! "

Jisung's lips widen into a smile. Of course Jisung knew. He has always known. Only a blind person would not notice your not very subtle efforts to win his heart and make him fall for you. Maybe it was you who was a dumb fuck because you never figured out how much Jisung loves you too even after being best friends for so long.

"You hear that, Snowflake? You heard what mommy said? She said she loves me! " Jisung's eye's glint with happiness as he picks up Snowflake, peppering her with smooches, "Your mommy loves me!"

You stare at him , confused beyond anything.

Jisung turns to you, his big signature grin fixated on his lips , " Is that why you ran away yesterday? Because God decided to punch you with the realization that you are in love with me?"

You scoff, "No, I left because you and Seo Changbin were talking about the other girl who you referred to as 'all you have '. I didn't want to know what else you refer to her as."

Jisung laughs , his shoulders vibrating with the action and his hands finding their way towards yours(Ha! How's that Snowflake!)

"You said that you heard me talk about some other girl so you must have heard some name too ,right?" He questions you , his fingers clutching your hand as if he were afraid of you running off again.

"Yeah, of course I did!" you clap back , "I heard the name - " Your heart drops as the crystal clear memory from yesterday flashes into your mind.

Jisung raises an eyebrow, a mischievous grin adorning his face, "Yes? What's that?"

Oh.

Oh.

"You had said my name." you whisper.

You divert your gaze from him and focus on your clasped hands and how perfect they look together - like the sole purpose of their creation was to hold each other.

Jisung shifts closer to you , your mattress dipping under his weight.

"Yes. I said your name." He tucks a few strands of hair behind your ears , "I said that I couldn't lose you because you're all that I have. And I didn't want my romantic feelings toward you to change anything between us."

Your breath gets stuck in your throat when he leans toward your face.

"So y/n, Will you please stop assuming things and be my girlfriend ?" Jisung asks.

You free your hand from his and slide them around his torso, hugging him.

"Yes, yes." you whisper, "A thousand times yes."

He engulfs you in the warmest hug possible, his hand rubbing your side comfortingly while he whispers sweet nothings into your ears.

"Sungie look, its a butterfly." You break away from the hug momentarily to point at the yellow and blue winged butterfly that settles down on top of Snowflake 's head.

Snowflake snarls at it , trying to chase it away with her paws while you and Jisung giggle. With arms secured around the other.

"Spring is on its way, isn't it?" He asks you ,"You know what it means?"

"More green vegetables?"

"Shut up ,y/n, you're so unromantic!"

You guys giggle a little more.

"No, but seriously ,what does it mean?" you ask , looking up at him from his chest.

Jisung presses a sweet, heartwarming kiss to your head , "New beginnings. Blossoming of New things."

Hs stares at you like he's trying to say something to you without using words and you like to be believe that you are able to get what he wants to say ; it's a new beginning for you guys.

Because you've finally crossed over this border line of friendship and stepped into the zone of no return, exiting the grey area you disliked so much.

And you know every second of it will be beautiful.

[onelastbreath-writes]

I Spy

Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morales/Fem!Reader (AFAB, no y/n)

Word Count: 1.7K

Warnings: Brief mention of bad(abusive/manipulative) parents, general adult topics, swearing.

Summary: You meet a cute guy at a bar, you date, you fall in love, and oops, it turns out you’ve both been lying about your careers. Classified only stays classified until you get assigned a mission together. (SpecOps&Spies, with Young!Frankie)

A/N: Hey guys, I was bad and started another fic. Whoops. This one is for Triple Frontier because I love that soft boi Francisco. The flavour of this fic, the vibe if you will, is basically the spiderman pointing meme. I’ve vaguely set the timeline to like mid-2000s? so I’ll be trying my best to stay true to technology and aesthetic of the era. There was so much denim. Anyways, that means I’m trying to write for about a 27-33 year old Frankie and a similarly aged reader. I don’t see this series being more than a couple chapters at best, so it’ll be short and sweet. Also, like, very little angst if I can help it; I just want this one to be a good, cute, fun read. Hope y’all enjoy! Xoxo

[AO3][Masterlist]

“So, you’re coming out tonight, right? You’re not busy or anything?”

“Please don’t say it like that, you know how busy work actually is. And I’m a grown woman; if I didn’t want to go to a shady dive bar with you and your very loud friends from the office, I’d say so,” You loved your best friend, and you missed spending time together, but you really couldn’t say the same for her co-workers.

You had nothing against the women she worked with, and you found that they were all perfectly lovely and usually quite fun to be around… it was just that when the alcohol came out, the volume control and verbal filters disappeared.

You wouldn’t say that barhopping was what you’d prefer to be doing tonight, along with more or less babysitting your friend and her friends, but you didn’t know when you’d next be able to squeeze in a night off to just hang out and have fun, so this was happening. You would laugh and smile and keep the drunk secretaries from going home with questionable people, and then you would look back on your ladies’ night with fond memories until you could eventually attend another.

You had known when you picked your career that it would be an around-the-clock, all-day, every-day sort of thing. You never deluded yourself into thinking you would have much of a social life or long-term relationships. Most partners, hell even most friends, would have a problem with you jetting off for weekends, or disappearing for days at a time under mountains of paperwork and appointments.

It just made your best friend that much more important to you. You’d met as kids, went through years of school beside each other, hung out, did stupid teenager things and then stupid young adult things together. You’d cried and laughed and fought and made up a million times, you’d gone to different colleges and still kept in touch, moved away, moved back, and you were still going strong. She was your ride-or-die, your anchor and your parachute and everything in between, so if you could use some of your precious, hoarded, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it time off to see her, that’s just what you’d do.

“You should take some of that fire, and direct it at your boss. Tell him no for a change. I’d love to see his face at that!” She meant well, always trying to look out for you and your health when it came to your beyond demanding job. You weren’t even allowed to tell her a fraction of what you were doing in your professional life, and she knew it, but that didn’t stop her from being ready to throw fists at your employer at a moment’s notice.

“One does not simply tell the über-rich that they don’t need to fly to Paris, again. Being a PA is a full-time nannying gig, except your charge is an adult who can argue when you say no, and you cannot put them on timeout when they’re being a brat. Where he goes, I go, and unless something drastic happens, it will probably continue on like that for a while.” She laughed at your jokes, and your heart hurt a little less at her glee. You knew she would never give up on you or blame you for your work being unpredictable, but that didn’t make the sting of last-minute cancels and missed outings hurt any less, for either of you.

“But it must be nice, just getting on a plane and going somewhere amazing at the drop of a hat. Travelling the world like a superstar, meeting people, having amazing adventures with mysterious strangers…”

“Easy there, Mamma Mia, your wanderlust is showing. And I’d take you with me in a heartbeat if I could. You were born to be a jetsetter, not to be stuck in this town with nothing but the office cubicle beside you to stare at. And I still think you should apply for one of those immersive culture grants you keep mooning over. They’d be fools not to fund your writing expedition!” She was an incredible person, three full degrees to her name in the time it took a normal student to get one, and a brain that could run miles around the rest of the professionals in her field. But she was tethered to this quiet backwater town, and she wasn’t free to fly like she deserved.

“You know I can’t just… go, like you can. My mom, it’d just break her heart… I don’t want to leave her alone, not after Dad,” You honestly doubted that you’d ever meet a woman more horrible and undeserving of her own daughter’s kindness. Helen was a parasite full of lies and manipulations and greed, and she had attached herself like a bad rash to your friend after she’d chased away the rest of her family members.

Your friend searched for the good in everyone, but you wished she’d stop looking for it at that home.

“You deserve your own happiness and freedom, and she should be encouraging you to spread your wings if and when you’re ready.” Politicking your friend was never something you enjoyed. She was the last person you wanted to use your negotiating credentials and sly subterfuge tactics against, but you wanted, needed, her safety and health more. You considered it almost bribery; dangling her dream future in front of her in exchange of being rid of the garbage in her life.

“Hey now, we’re getting way too deep into sad-drunk night conversations, and this is strictly a happy-fun-drunk night. Please leave all baggage and woes at the door, thank you!” You admitted your defeat and surrendered your verbal power point on Why Helen Needs to Disappear. You would get her next time for sure, give her the accelerant to burn down that bridge. “Anyways, the reason I called was to remind you of our haunt for the night. One of the girls, Kelly, you remember Kelly, found this adorable little hole in the wall. A total boys’ club apparently: darts, pool, sports games on the TV, but Kelly’s sister’s friend’s brother Tyler said the place was a favourite of the local army guys. So, if nothing else, we’ll at least have some hunks to look at for a while. It’ll be great!”

You jotted down the directions to the bar as she listed them, and the time you were expected to arrive there.

“Oh! And wear that cute little blue number you bought last spring; I know you still have it so don’t you dare lie. It makes your ass and legs look divine, and I think you could stand to make a new acquaintance tonight.” That Little Blue Number was buried in the back of your closet where you had hoped it would remain forever, but luck was not on your side tonight it seemed. But it did make you look, and feel, fantastic.  It was just so… breezy. “And heels! Real ones, not your cute little personal assistant kitten heels. Those black strappy ones would work like a dream!” You just sighed dramatically into the receiver and agreed to her demands.

“I’ll let you go now, and yes, I suppose I can be presentable tonight, dress and all. See-ya later!”

---

Hole in the wall was right. This place was basically underground it was so on the D.L. It was warm inside though, and in the middle of autumn with so much skin on display, you could not be more pleased to get away from the chilled outside air.

You would describe the interior as comfortable with a hint of rustic; lots of warm dark wood and low lights, mixed with the soft Latin music crooning in the background and the few patrons’ conversations adding to the ambience.

All in all, it was probably the nicest dive bar you’d been to in your hometown.

Your party was easy to spot where they had claimed a group of pushed together tables towards the far side of the establishment, and you carefully made your way over to them in your tricky high heels.

You said your hellos to returning faces and introduced yourself to the new additions, and accepted the chair you were pointed to and the drink pressed into your hand.

And so, the hours rolled.

You had enjoyed two fruity cocktails and a flaming shot before you called it quits on the alcohol for the night. You still had a few hours to sober up enough to drive home safely, and you would be able to help the girls get to their rides and ways home too. You appreciated having a social drink or two, but you didn’t care for hangovers and would happily take slightly tipsy over party-hard drunk anytime. Plus, your contract stated you were on-call, always, and you could be required to navigate high-stress negotiations at the drop of a hat. It was just better to cut yourself off, then reap the consequences of your actions later.

You tapped your friend’s shoulder as you walked past and leaned over to talk into her ear. “I’m getting some water for the table; do you want anything else?”

“Mmmm, no I think we’re good for now, thanks!” She was plastered already, but she had a huge grin on her face and was laughing at her co-workers’ stories, so you considered it a win of a night. You gave her a pat goodbye and swayed your way to the bar.

But you just were not accounting for the uneven floorboards, or how much your heels affected your currently less than steady equilibrium, and before you could blink you were teetering over into a nasty fall.

“Whoa there, easy does it, muñequita” Arms wrapped around you and pulled you back into a warm chest. “Careful now, don’t go twisting an ankle in those fancy shoes.”

You certainly did not account for the man you turned around to face. Wow.

His hands glided respectfully from where he had caught you around the waist to your still bent and held out elbows, steadying you as you swayed dangerously again.

Warm brown eyes, soft brown curls, and the sweetest smile you’d ever seen. It felt like your heart was going to beat out of your chest, and you knew that it wasn’t left over adrenaline from your near wipeout. He was gorgeous and handling you so gently, and you wanted to spend forever in that moment.

“Hey there, palomita, I’m Frankie, can I buy you a drink?”

[Next Part]

[achliegh]

Hii! How are you? I hope you’re doing good. Anyywayys, I saw the O&O prompts you posted and I would LOVE to see number 3, “Telling The O’Hara’s and The Tremblay’s.”

Thank u <3

Hello my Garbage Clan!

number 3 “Telling the O’Hara’s and The Trembly’s

Here it is, I hope you enjoy it! THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING THIS ONE I LOVED WRITING IT!

TW/CW: Arguing, Mild panic attack,  homophobic attitudes and language

Thank you @domesticatedbeetlenamedjorge for editing my brain.

Characters belong to @lumosinlove

Family Skate 2019

His hands were clammy, pacing back and forth in the bathroom at Dumo’s, he was supposed to have a fun time. Spending family time with his parents, with Logan’s parents, with Leo and his family. Instead he locked himself in the bathroom at Dumo’s after his parents told him they wanted to talk to him. They sounded serious, just like his Captain, they had said Alex was worried about him because he was acting “all dopey” at the games in Florida. 

His hands were shaking a little like he drank seven coffees before noon, his breath was slightly picking up, he hadn’t talked about coming out to his family with the boys yet. It was all going so well and he didn’t want to ruin it. So, he decided after staring into the mirror for a good twenty minutes that he would tell his parents after he took them  back to the hotel they were staying at. 

It was time, the only people who noticed anything was off were Logan and Leo, and maybe the twins. He was in his head all night so when his mother put her hand on his arm to kiss him on the cheek thanking him for the ride, he jumped a little. It was then realized he had driven them all the way there on autopilot. He turned the car off and looked at them.

“Let’s go upstairs and talk, yeah?” He smiles uneasily and gets out of the car. The elevator ride up was a bit awkward but the silence was nice. Refreshing even. Once they got into the room he gestured for his parents to sit on the bed. He started tapping his toes in his vans hoping his parents didn’t catch on to how nervous he was.

“Finn? Honey, what’s wrong?” His mother had worry in her blue eyes. “Is this what Alex was talking about? He said you were acting strange.”

“Have you gotten into something? Are you in trouble?” His father was looking into his soul with eyes that mirrored his own. Finn swallowed his fear and took a deep breath.

“You know how me and Logan have been really good friends for a while?” His parents nodded and shared a look before taking each other's hand. “Well, I’m… dating him an-” His mother squealing  and jumping up to squeeze him into a tight hug cut off his sentence. She was hopping around making him as well. “Mom! Mom!” He laughed a little as tears he didn’t know were falling landed on his mothers cheek as she looked up and wiped his tears away with her thumb cupping his cheeks. He felt his father wrap his arms around both of them, hugging with the intent to hold his son together. 

He cried into his parents as all his worries flooded out of him, he was crying happy tears as his parents whispered words of acceptance. He sniffles and laughs a  little, pulling away to wipe his eyes.

“It isn’t just Logan” His parents look up in surprise, waiting for him to continue. “You know Leo? The new rookie, well I’m also dating him.”

“Oh good! He's just an adorable young thing isn’t he.” His mother smiles and flops on the bed bouncing a little as Finn and his father hug again. 

“Yeah, he’s really cute.” Finn turns a little pink and talks about his boys for a good hour before he realizes he promised the twins a story. “I got to go, I promised Leo’s kids a story.” He puts his coat on completely forgetting that his parents had no idea about the twins.

“Did you say… kids?”

Montreal 2019

Logan, his boys, and the twins were all staying in a hotel because his parents house was full of his family from out of town and out of the country. Everyone was celebrating the cup, the parade happened yesterday and he couldn’t be happier. He was laying on Leo’s back on the bed while he complained about how cold it was for the summer time.

“I’m just saying it’s freezing here, in NOLA y’all were boiling and now I’m freezing! I don’t know how Otto is handling this, that kid has no circulation.”

“I’m gonna come out to my parents while we’re here.” Logan felt Leo stop breathing for a moment, then he felt a tap on his side. He rolled off and faced his lover.

“Because you want to or because you think you need to?”

“I want to” Leo smiles and brings him in for a slow and sweet kiss. They pull away when two kids jump on them as they had just come back from a walk with Finn. “Hello monsters!”

Later that evening he stood in front of his parents house, wondering if this was the right thing to do. Everyone was so happy and Logan knew his parents were a little more right winged then his sisters. Who already knew about his relationships. He walks in the front door after deciding that it was best they knew. He found his parents on the couch, his boys were waiting in the car down the street in case something went terribly wrong. The twins were sleeping in their carseats, as they drove around to calm Logan's nerves before having him walk to the house.

“Bonjour chérie, tu as décidé de rester avec nous après tout?” His mother looked up from her paper under her glasses, his father came into the room with two cups of tea. “Je sais que Finn est ton ami mais n'est-il pas un peu flamboyant? Ce Leo est avec toi aussi, oui? C'est une petite chose sournoise.” Logan frowns a little at what she says as his parents  sip their tea and look up at him.

“Maman, papa, j'ai quelque chose à te dire.” They look at each other for a moment then look up at him. “ I- I.. I’m dating Finn… and Leo” He is looking at the wall behind their head that has a picture of their family when he was four. Everyone was smiling and happy and the perfect family. He felt like he just ruined it.

All he heard was silence, he finally looked at his parents and saw them glaring at him, he jumped when his father stood up and grabbed him by his collar. Yelling terrible things at him in his native tongue. Logan reached into his pocket and clicked Leo’s contact to call. He had it already set up because he knew his parents wouldn’t react well. He took his hand out of his pocket and pushed his fathers hands away from him. 

His mother was in tears, her hands gripped on Logans as she prayed for him. He felt the tears fall from his eyes, unhappy, hurt, they stung his eyes. She babled on until there was a knock on the door.

“If that is them then we are going to have a very long talk!” His father stormed over to the door and swung it open, he saw two little blurry figures rushed in. He felt them hug his legs, he let go of his mothers hands and squatted down to hug them.

He held them tightly, they kept asking him what was wrong and that their daddy was worried about him. They wiped his tears and looked around to see two completely stunned parents staring down at them. Logan stands holding a twin on each one of his hips, he looks at his parents then the children.

“These are Leo’s kids, Olive and Otto. If you want you can treat them like your grandkids, but if you ever speak to them in the way you just spoke to me. I will never speak to you again.” He starts to walk towards the door.

“When will we see you again?”

“When you are ready to tell me you’re sorry.”

[rowanthestrange]

Have you seen the new episode yet?

Yes!

I feel sorry for Chibs as it’s certainly not a bad episode all things considered, but has the problem of pretty much everything not quite hitting given everything in the interim. He has my sympathy. I imagine there has been a lot of loud swearing and staring at the ceiling in his household.

At the very least, I’m always a sucker for a new Dalek. And his strategy of getting around the Terry Nation Estate’s ‘use them every series or lose them’ rules about the Daleks by having them always at New Years but also forming a distinct but easily followable narrative between those episodes is something after my own heart. A very smart way of doing things.

And Ryan got a good long scene with the Doctor! Look, I take what I’m given.

No idea what John Bishop’ll do or be like or anything, but I was down on Bradley Walsh to begin with and Graham ended up my lovely eldest son, so I’m not judging a thing until I see it. And finish the whole series of it.

Gonna be real though, I thought if there was any new companion, we were getting the girl in Osaka who looked up at the spaceship...

What else might you want from me...hmm... oh meta.

‘The alien thing connecting into computers to control stuff’. Cyberium/Mastery. Along with the ‘how long has this been happening for’ thing in a soft way. Just running themes. I think it was an...interesting choice to have the mutants lose rather than win, which is sort of counter to what we’ll call ‘real world meta’, and therefore could potentially play into a theme where the Time Lords are the mutants who lose, etc. etc.

Ignorable, more personal, ‘Where the HELL have you been?!’  section, a question I don’t really answer, as you all should know I’m a Snufkin by now:

Because the special is so unfitting with our own 2020 in some respects (not the police stuff - that’s evergreen), it’s had the opposing effect I expected on a casual WIP I’ve been playing around with most of the year, where I actually feel like I may carry on looking at it, rather than it ending up in the ‘why bother’ pile I’d put it in. And he brushed against enough of my work that I think some people might actually still feel it worthwhile even if not canon. I can certainly slot some bits in pretty perfectly. 

No promises though. Writing requires a certain section of my brain to play ball which happens now and again at the moment, but the much rarer ability is where I can take a long thing and put it together with ma brain damage affecting my memory of the sections I’m supposed to order. (I often wish I had some sort of free Patreon-like system where interested parties could read through the probably hundreds of thousands of words of partial work I’ve accumulated and put aside for various reasons. Might genuinely hire an editor one day tbh cus there’s so much 90% done work that y’all could be enjoying.)

In my time away - which will continue by the way, sorry - I came up with what I think may be the answer to where we’re going-slash-have-gone with the Timeless Children/baby Doctor and Master/Cyberman/Frankenstein stuff. Or AN answer at any rate. But I only came to it when I was having an urge to write something completely non-canon for the hell of it following a Star Wars YouTube Documentary, but it does actually sort of work. I’ll explain it in fanfic form or else won’t explain it at all, because if I’m right it would be a waste not to do it in story form - either Chibs’s or mine.

And if you really are interested in my life stuff, EDS and Dysautonomia kicking my ass including my sight and hearing, and because I tend to get long chest infections with side effects that stick around for years (or forever), I’m just permanently indoors all the time. I don’t actually mind it. I’m that sort of autistic. I’ve got my partner and that’s all good and dandy. IT work was mostly remote anyway. I made a mask with dragons on it for going to blood tests etc. and was continuously appalled by the UK not giving a single shit about mask wearing until the ‘law’ and they still just take it off the second they leave the shops anyway so... ¯\_(ツ)_/¯  I get to live inside for the foreseeable future. Especially if Johnson’s yahoo approach to making a half functioning vaccination cocktail ends up selecting for a Super Covid. But I got Crafts now man. It’s like my getting religion only I feel less guilt for screwing up. One day I’ll be back and you will see all the ridiculous stuff I’ve made. Like my Twelve and Bill cosplays (with hand embroidered patches on Bill’s jacket) for a pair of bears. But alas, that’s not today. Hope everyone is ok. And not changing their usernames without telling me. My lack of my reaching out is not a lack of caring. I just need a lot of spoons to carry conversation in any sense, and unfortunately I’m having to take more responsibility in my political garbage because everyone else is sodding off, and all that has me in a massive spoon deficit.

Eat good. Take vitamin tablets, D especially. Do exercise, even indoors for 10 minutes, and when you don’t want to. Make something every week, even if it’s just for you to see. And love, like, or at least tolerate yourself; don’t hate yourself, cus all this shit should have shown you by now there are waaaay more hateable people out there, droves of ‘em, and you don’t even rank, my friend.

(I’m still in my chrysalis of hibernation and am currently in a liquid state. I will emerge to interact fully with the world again, when I have coagulated into my moth form. This is a normal process, do not be concerned. Things sent to my inbox send emails that should reach my oozy form. Or may not. That’s tungl for you.)

[bladekindeyewear]

HS^2 bloggin’ mainline 2020-05-31

Mainline upd8 before the June break.  More Terezi!  That should put me in a better mood. (1 edit (2020-06-01) since posting)

> CHAPTER 10. 1 WOND3R WH4T TH3Y T4ST3 L1K3

Wait, fuzzily waking up seeing the new planet?

Wait, why is the site background still black?

Wait, is this one of the new alien race members just created?

That would explain the chapter title.  (Especially if they were part plant, but Terezi would say that regardless, when you think about it.)

> ==>

Coming more into focus.

> ==>

Oh!  Back to the normal background.

TEREZI: W3LL

She’s not the one seeing this, so is this an alien perspective or does Rose’s visual processing take a while to turn back on post-warranty-breach?

> ==>

Huh?  It WAS her point of view?

So this:

--is just an attempt at rendering her smell-o-vision?

I know her sense of smell is supposed to be amazing, but this is MARKEDLY less paint-like than previous depictions of her smell-o-vision.  See for comparison:

Was this an intentional difference in clarity? Laziness? Her scent-vision being sharper?  They’re practically making us feel like her eyes are healed again, which would be disastrous, and not something even Ultimate Rose should necessarily be capable of.

(I’m inclined to give them less credit than usual today, though, so a poor visual choice most likely.)

TEREZI: TH4T W4S PR3TTY FUCK1NG STUP1D

Hate-screwing Rosebot?  Why?

I guess it’d leave you sore.

> ==>

TEREZI: F4LL1NG 4SL33P H3R3 1S JUST 4SK1NG FOR TROUBL3

Oh.  Are the new races - or their precursor “experiments” running around?

> ==>

TEREZI: NODD1NG OFF L1K3 TH4T UND3RN34TH 4N 4RBOR34L 4MBUL4TOR TEREZI: WHO KNOWS WH4T COULD H4V3 H4PP3N3D TEREZI: Y34H 4LR1GHT, 4LR1GHT TEREZI: G3T OFF MY C4S3 4BOUT 1T ALR34DY TEREZI: 1TS NOT L1K3 1 D1D 1T ON PURPOS3

Is Terezi talking to her other selves or something?  Or another brain ghost?

TEREZI: W3R3 JUST LUCKY TH3R3 1SNT 4NY W1ND 4T TH3 MOM3NT TEREZI: 1V3 3ST4BL1SH3D TH4T TH1S 1S WHY TH3Y MOV3 TEREZI: TH3 4MBUL4TORS 4R3 PL4NTS IN THE STR1CT S3NS3, BUT EXH1B1T LOCOMOT1V3 B3H4V1OUR DU3 TO TH31R UN1QU3 CONSTRUCT1ON

Ooh, moving trees.  Nice.

TEREZI: TH3 M41N BODY OF THE PL4NT CONS1STS OF A N3TWORK OF HOLLOW, TUB3LIKE GROWTHS THROUGH WH1CH 41R M4Y TR4V3L TEREZI: TH3S3 N3TWORKS 4R3 SO SOPH1ST1C4T3D TH4T TH3 SH1FT1NG PR3SSUR3 1NS1D3 TH3 TRUNK 4ND BR4NCH3S C4N C4US3 TH3 3NT1R3 PL4NT TO UPROOT 1TS3LF 4ND B3G1N "W4LK1NG", PROV1D3D TH3 COND1T1ONS 4R3 R1GHT TEREZI: TH1S PROC3SS, WH1L3 M4J3ST1C, C4N H4V3 DR4ST1C 3FF3CTS ON TH3 PL4NTS SURROUND1NGS

I know you like to eat them, but when did your analysis of plantlife get so clinical?  Do you have Aranea blabbing in your ear or something?

Oh.  OH, wait.  They have a Command Station.  Is Rose communicating with her remotely via that, and Terezi is just Dave-like vocalizing everything Rose punches into the terminal?  Then that would be Terezi arguing with HER out loud.  And the sudden transition of talk to “I’ve established that this is why they move.” is very Rose-sounding.

> ==>

That lil’ “hup” pose to jump over the gap Terezi’s making is adorable.  Also, those are bad failed experiments y’all have created and you should feel bad, Rose and Dirk.  (Rose is definitely to blame for this spider-bunny nightmare.)

TEREZI: HUP!

Hup

TEREZI: 1 WOND3R WH4T TH3Y T4ST3 L1K3 >:O

They look like they’d taste like bee spiders with inedible stuffing throughout.

Trolls do find grubs of most sorts appetizing though.

> ==>

TEREZI THOSE ARE NO REASON TO BE HAPPY

> ==>

Yeah, beautiful field-shot aside I feel pretty bad for that creation.  Looks miserable.

> ==>

Now they’re just mashing up consorts.  Are they TRYING to populate the planet with weird garbage for the final products to eat?  (Or fight? Hard-troll-childhood style?)

> ==>

THAT THING IS NO REASON TO LOOK SO HAPPY EITHER REZI

Gosh, at least she’s having fun though.

> ==>

You’re ignoring Onionsan, Terezi

> ==>

I wonder what lazy name this Horsisaur has.

Fun abandoned. Survival instincts fully engaged. Terezi runs.

She throws backward sniffs over her shoulder as she tears through the scrubby cling of the planet’s undergrowth, catching fractured impressions of exactly what has decided to chase her. A shuddering, 20 foot monstrosity that somehow seems to both scamper and glide, like a centipede, rustling like foliage as it moves, as if an entire goddamn forest is bearing down on her.

Between the game and Alternia, you shouldn’t be TOO rusty at this, right?

The problem with using smells to navigate the world is that the unfamiliar can be difficult to parse. Every whiff over her shoulder gives her another blurry glimpse of what this beast is.

Yeah, smell is a little slower on the pickup than sight.

Rose shared her books with Terezi when she was on the ship, and her favorite by far was the compendium of the zoologically dubious. Everything contained inside was just so unbelievably unlikely. This creature appears to be a combination of all of them.

Really? What we see of it doesn’t look THAT weird.  But we only see about half of it from this angle, so.

--Twisted ankle?  Come on, you’re not THAT rusty.

> ==>

It’s fear, pure and simple. Unsurprising, when being menaced by a monster, but it also doesn’t last for more than a second. A cold flame that instantly burns itself out, and all of a sudden she is just deeply, impossibly, indescribably tired. Down to her bones.

You’re already giving up??!?

Honestly, she really has no right to feel this... this fatigue. This crushing embrace of endless struggle. Terezi Pyrope has not had an easy life by anyone’s standards, but so much of her thirteen or so sweeps has just been standing still. Waiting. Huddling blind and half dead in her recuperacoon, the sopor burning the hideous mess that the sun has left her eyes, alight with a hatred so layered and intense that she couldn’t make sense of it.

Dammit, do we have to go SO EXHAUSTINGLY DEEPLY into EVERY SINGLE CHARACTER’S PTSD?!??

It was horrifying--that pain or fury--but also, admittedly, very boring. Then there were the sweeps on the meteor, the endless, gelatinous stretches of time in the chaos of the outer ring, searching for... Vriska, ostensibly, but also maybe just for a chance to dry up. To disappear. Go extinct.

Terezi doesn’t know if it’s an attribute of her aspect, or the sheer psychic damage of spending so long in the company of two humans with god complexes. Maybe it’s just an inherited symptom of being conscious. But sometimes it feels like none of them are going to get out of this, alive or dead.

Fuck, apparently we are.  These writers don’t know how to let up.  Can’t we get a little more retroactive dwelling on how FUN some of their lives up til now were?  And then... maybe NOT only do that to contrast with how depressed they are now??  There was SO much delight in Homestuck amidst the hardship, and if you’re going to show us more of the hardship you have to show us more of the delight, too, or everything just gets pointlessly dark.

--ah, Rose redirected the command console to point to the monster and stopped it that way.

ROSE: I am devastated to report that those are really more vines than tentacles, and even worse, they aren’t mine.

Pff.

...Poking fun at the terminology for Patron Trolls, at this late date of all times.

TEREZI: D4V3 4ND 1 H4D 4 LOT 1N COMMON B4CK TH3N, OR 4T L34ST 1T F3LT L1K3 W3 D1D ROSE: As I have come to understand it, for a while at least, we were all being steered in the right direction by a debatably benevolent force. ROSE: One imposed on us by the game itself, even if we had yet to enter it. TEREZI: ... ROSE: You don’t believe me. TEREZI: NO, 1 DO TEREZI: 1T SOUNDS 1NCR3D1BLY DUMB AND UNL1K3LY BUT SO DO3S 3V3RYTH1NG 3LS3 TH4T H4PP3NS TO 4NY OF US

Terezi, don’t you know at least half as much about Skaia as anyone else here? Isn’t that what she’s talking about?

TEREZI: SO YOU 4R3 DO1NG TH3 S4M3 TH1NGS TO TH3S3 CR34TUR3S TH4T SOM3 OTH3R CR34TUR3S D1D TO YOU 4ND YOUR FR13NDS ROSE: I suppose that is a fair assessment. Although we were not our own creators. It was John who— DIRK: I hate to break up the recap episode, but we need to deal with this situation before it gets out of hand.

Wait, she’s talking about the Exiles?  Terezi TOLD Dave about the exiles helping them.  SHE was the one who told us how that worked!  Although I guess you could chalk her questions up to her not knowing one of those “terminals” was involved.

TEREZI: 4ND HOW 4R3 YOU H3R3 4NYW4Y? DIRK: I have administrative privileges. TEREZI: YOU H4V3 4DM1N1STR4T1V3 PR1V1L3G3S TO MY P4LMHUSK DIRK: Yes.

Was Terezi dictating to her palmhusk earlier?  Why was she talking for Rose’s part of the conversation earlier, but not now?  Was that a mistake?  Or did Rose switch off the terminal, despite her apparent confusion with the terminal now???

Opinion of HS^2... dropping... keep it together stop judging the comic so hard... NOT dropping off in quality... shh brain! Shoosh!!!

(Seriously though, don’t put ANY asks in my inbox about HS^2 dropping off in quality, even as much as I’M starting to complain.  Gotta keep my hopes up to keep enjoying myself as I keep going.)

ROSE: Don’t let it get to you. My father has a habit of appearing in places he’s not wanted.

You’re seriously just CALLING him that now?!??

DIRK: I was saying that we should get Terezi down from there before continuing our mining of the core themes in our personal narratives.

Ah, that’s why you used the terminology.

DIRK: I was saying that we should get Terezi down from there before continuing our mining of the core themes in our personal narratives. ROSE: Of course. I’ll take care of it. DIRK: Appreciate it. TEREZI: 1 W1SH YOU WOULDN’T DO TH4T WH3R3 1 C4N S33 1T DIRK: Do what? TEREZI: TH4T TH1NG WH3R3 YOU G3T P3OPL3 WHO 4R3 NOT M3 TO DO WH4T3V3R 1T 1S YOU W4NT TH3M TO TEREZI: M1ND CONTROL

Oh, damn.  That was a creepy order, then.  And is Rose STILL not wise to it?  Can Terezi and Dirk just TALK about the narrative control IN FRONT OF ROSE and have her not recognize it because of said control??? :C

TEREZI: WH4T TH3 FUCK 1S GO1NG ON DIRK: You can make more boots. TEREZI: 1M NOT T4LK1NG 4BOUT TH3 BOOTS, NOOKBR34TH TEREZI: 1 MEAN TH3 M3N4G3R13 FROM H3LL DIRK: Well, we’ve encountered a couple bumps along the road. TEREZI: YOU DONT S4Y

This is fun, but I can’t help but notice that Rose has completely stopped talking.  Fuck having Dirk flaunt this even harder just ups the creepiness even more.

TEREZI: YOU GUYS R34LLY SUCK 4T TH1S DIRK: Yeah, agreed. TEREZI: ... TEREZI: WOW, TH4T W4S MUCH L3SS P41NFUL 4ND LONG-W1ND3D TH4N 1 W4S 3XP3CT1NG 1T TO B3 DIRK: What was? TEREZI: CONV1NC1NG YOU TH4T 4LL OF TH3S3 "D3S1GNS" TH4T YOU H4V3 COM3 UP W1TH SUCK SH1T TEREZI: 1 THOUGHT YOU WOULD T3LL M3 TH4T 4LL OF 1T 1S P4RT OF SOM3 "GR4ND PL4N" TEREZI: TH4T TH3Y SUCK ON PURPOS3 OR SOM3TH1NG L1K3 TH4T DIRK: Well, it is a part of the grand plan. And they do suck on purpose. DIRK: But not on my purpose. DIRK: It’s Rose. She is remarkably bad at this. Voluntarily. TEREZI: DO YOU M34N TH4T SH3 1S TRY1NG TO S4BOT4G3 4LL OF YOUR GR4ND CR34T1ONS TEREZI: OH POW3RFUL GOD PR1NC3? DIRK: No, she’s playing the game. That part hasn’t been a problem. DIRK: I mean she is just making incredibly nonsensical decisions and refusing to back down, even when I up the ante to preposterous levels. DIRK: You should see some of the shit she’s come up with. I’m pretty sure I watched a vagina on legs walk by this morning. TEREZI: 1 DONT TH1NK 1 S4W TH4T ON3 DIRK: Despite her initial resistance, Rose has gone completely feral. TEREZI: YOU M34N TH4T SH3 1S H4V1NG FUN DIRK: Yes.

You loosened her morals so she’d be conscience-free to go full zoological playground, and she’s GOING full zoological playground.  What did you expect?

TEREZI: 4ND WH4T 1S WRONG W1TH 4 L1TTL3 B1T OF FUN YOUR H1GHN3SS? DIRK: Nothing. I got absolutely no problem with having a good time while we see to the boring and altogether completely frivolous task of seeding the future of this planet. DIRK: But she really TEREZI: YOU 3XP3CT3D H3R TO B3 TH3 ON3 TO HOLD YOU B4CK, 1NST34D OF TH3 OTH3R W4Y 4ROUND DIRK: No, that's not it. TEREZI: YES, 1 TH1NK 1T 1S 1T

What?  “Holding her back”?  How did this suddenly become about Dirk’s insecurity at his ectobiological skill?

DIRK: By project, do you mean that I expect Rose to be too much like myself? TEREZI: NO, 1 M34N TH3 OPPOS1T3 TEREZI: YOU 3XP3CT H3R TO B3 B3TT3R TH4N YOU TEREZI: YOU W4NT H3R TO PR3V3NT 4LL OF YOUR WORST T3ND3NC13S. TH3 W4Y 1 US3D TO W1TH VR1SK4 WH3N W3 W3R3 MO1R41LS

--Oh, you meant hold them back from going TOO FAR.  I see.  And also, the way Terezi and Vriska were “moirails” is the WORST example, and thus quite fitting to relate to this situation.  For their brief pale stint, Terezi never really STOPPED Vriska from doing ANYTHING. She just supported Vriska, while Vriska spewed some flattery Terezi’s way... and then proceeded to do whatever the fuck she wanted. Sometimes without telling her.  It was an AWFUL example of proper moirallegiance, as I covered in the above link.

Dirk wouldn’t know about that, though.  And neither does Terezi, apparently, unless she’s just not admitting it.

(EDIT: Also, Rose never had the slightest chance of ever holding Dirk back like she might have wanted because DIRK MIND CONTROL OVERRIDES HER EVERY TIME SHE HAS RESERVATIONS. The only way a moirallegiance can work at all is if the one being held back is WILLING to listen. Dirk has deliberately and continuously suppressed Rose's ability to even THINK about dissuading him from literally any course of action.)

TEREZI: YOUR3 3XP3CT1NG ROS3 TO C4TCH YOU WH3N YOU GO TOO F4R TEREZI: SH3 1SNT GO1NG TO DO TH4T, 1 DONT TH1NK TEREZI: 1N F4CT, 1 TH1NK SH3 1S MOR3 L1K3LY TO GO TOO F4R TH4N YOU 4R3 DIRK: What makes you say that? TEREZI: 1 DONT KNOW TEREZI: JUST 4 F33L1NG, 1 GU3SS. 1 M1GHT NOT B3 4 GOD-MODD3D DORK 1N COSPL4Y, BUT 1M ST1LL A S33R TEREZI: 4ND 1 H4VE SP3NT W4Y MOR3 T1M3 W1TH TH3 TWO OF YOU TH4N 4LMOST 4NYON3 ELSE, WH1CH 1S 1NCR3D1BLY D3PR3SS1NG TO TH1NK 4BOUT

Guh.  A real pair of villains.  Is that REALLY why you brought Rose, Dirk?

TEREZI: 4NYW4Y, 1F YOU DONT L1K3 TH3 W4Y ROS3 1S DO1NG TH1NGS WHY DONT YOU JUST NOT-M1ND CONTROL H3R 1NTO DO1NG 1T TH3 R1GHT W4Y TEREZI: PROBL3M SOLV3D DIRK: I’ve made the decision to freehand this one. I’m not planning to influence Rose’s decision in any part of the contest. Otherwise it’s too easy, and barely worth doing at all.

Obviously.  And you can’t argue her down the normal way because she was NEVER someone to listen to someone like you in a direct confrontation without any misleading subterfuge.  You would’ve had to Doc Scratch it.

DIRK: So you’re saying you want me to mind-control Rose. TEREZI: NO, 1M S4Y1NG TH4T 1 TH1NK YOU 4R3 4 COW4RD TEREZI: P3RH4PS 1 W1LL T3LL H3R TH4T YOU H4V3 B33N WH1SP3R1NG YOUR STR4NG3 L1TTL3 1NC4NT4T1ONS 1N H3R 34R OV3R TH3 L4ST F3W SW33PS TEREZI: L1K3 4 CR33PY W31RDO DIRK: No, you won’t. If you were going to, you would have already.

Are you talking about the narrative mind control or are you talking about something else?  Something weirder?  Because calling them “strange little incantations” sounds like he’s been doing some creepily Doc-Scratchy grooming to her like how Doc kinda rage-controlled the trolls to write his genetic code on their walls in their most vulnerable moments.

DIRK: Unless you think I’m still projecting my "image" of what I think Rose "should" do, and she actually won’t give a shit. TEREZI: NO, 1 TH1NK SH3 W1LL B3 CONFL1CT3D TEREZI: UNL3SS YOU M1ND-CONTROL H3R NOT TO B3 DIRK: Not mind control. TEREZI: WH4T3VER!

And that’s just it.  Rose WOULD have been very conflicted about MUCH of this if you hadn’t used your narrative control to override all her inhibitions.  So instead you get the version of her who would have gone with your plans without hesitation, which is the WORST version of her.  And she doesn’t even have a choice to be better.

Alright, that’s the end of the upd8.  See y’all!  Maybe a bit after the commentary goes up for this (already has for the Influencers bonus) I’ll cover the commentary on both this and the bonus, but that’ll be in at least a few days.  Ciao

[blue-starbursts]

Small vent about supporting creators

I know that no one is perfect, and I try to keep that in mind when supporting creators and people in general, but I never usually go into a fandom thinking that someone I thought so talented and seeming so decent could be kind of, or majorly nasty. It always hurts finding that out that someone you thought was cool turns out to, well, not really be, but the thought that they can still learn from their mistakes is a tiny light in the dark void.

Humans aren’t static creatures, we change constantly. Yea some may be more stubborn than others, and others have dug their hole so far down that they don’t know how to climb out, but it’s not impossible if you catch my drift. But even that seems impossible, especially with the “Stan Twitter Hive-Mind” mindset drilled into my brain, thinking that humans can’t change for the better and that you’ll always be horrible no matter what.

I’m so tired of feeling anxious. Feeling anxious that one day I’m gonna wake up to the news that someone I once cared about abused people. I’m tired of enjoying a piece of media and finding out the person who made it is a piece of garbage. I’m just.. Tired, Tumblr. It makes me wanna quit fandom, something that I once found enjoyable and made me feel alive and less alone, is now just a seeping pool of bad memories and bad feelings.

It’s already happened to a lot of fandoms I am, or was, in. And it really sucks, y’all. I’m just hoping I can enjoy things like Steam Powered Giraffe and Half Life: Self Aware AI and know that the people behind those things are genuinely good, although who knows how long that’s gonna last.

That’s all I have to say, thanks.

-Bry

[solarune]

luna

(3) citrus: luna | series masterlist | prev - extra - next

pairing: kim namjoon x reader genre: fluff, college au warnings: brief mentions of drinking/intoxication, joon is frustrated with his friends but loves them nonetheless hehe, controversial (?) mcu opinions lmao word count: 1,755 summary: namjoon comes over for the first time and introduces you to the life of a plant parent a/n: somehow managed to write something during thanksgiving break (and in general) so i’m very proud of myself. hope y’all enjoy :)

The message typed out on your phone is deleted for the 8th time that night, your mind going in a million different directions as you mentally berate yourself for overthinking such a simple task. It’s just a text, you scold yourself, your thumbs stopping each time they’re less than a centimeter away from your phone. All you’re doing is asking him to hang out, it’s not that big of a deal. But your brain seems to be the only part of your body that thinks that because your heart feels like it’s about to beat out of your chest, your hands are clammy, and a certain blond’s smile seems to be burned into the backs of your eyelids. Before you begin to question yourself again, you type out a simple text.

you [6:49pm]: hey, are you doing anything tonight??

You press send and fling your phone to the other side of the couch, turning on Netflix in the hopes that you’ll be able to distract yourself for a few minutes. But before you can even think about what show to watch, your phone dings from across the couch. With your heart racing once more, you read Namjoon’s reply.

joon 🌙 [6:51pm]: not really, are you?

You can’t help the wide grin that suddenly appears on your face, thanking the stars above that he made this so much easier for you. With your heart beating at a semi-normal pace now, you type out another text.

you [6:52pm]: no plans whatsoever… wanna come over? i was thinking of having a marvel movie night and ordering chinese food :)

joon 🌙 [6:52pm]: ma’am you know the way to my heart. what apartment complex do you live in?? i just need to get dressed and i’ll be on my way!!

You send Namjoon the address of your building and your apartment number, jumping off the couch right after to start cleaning up. It’s a good thing Sooyoung went home for the weekend, otherwise she’d be making fun of me for freaking out this entire time, you think to yourself as you grab your cup and plate from earlier today and dump them into the sink. You wash all of the dishes in the sink and clean up the kitchen before moving to the living room to rearrange the pillows and blankets. Once that’s all done, you quickly run to your room to change into some leggings and an oversized sweatshirt, and you just put the popcorn into the microwave when you hear a knock at your door.

You open the door to reveal a very comfortable-looking Namjoon; a grey knit sweater emphasizes the broadness of his chest and shoulders while black joggers show off just how long his legs really are. “Hi,” you breathe out after realizing that you were staring at him for a little bit too long. “Sorry, come in.” You move aside to allow him inside, the scent of his cologne permeating your senses as he walks into your living room.

“Nice place,” Namjoon comments after he takes off his shoes and sets them to the side. “Very… you.” You laugh at that, reminded of your similar statement about his apartment just 2 weeks ago. “Oh, I have a surprise for you!” he exclaims, revealing a tiny succulent that he kept hidden behind his back. “Your very first plant!”

Your fingers brush against his when you go to take the plant from him, your eyes wide as you turn it this way and that to get a good look. “It’s so… cute,” you chuckle as you stroke it gently, not noticing Namjoon softly staring at you as you look at the plant. “What should I name it?” You place the plant in the center of your coffee table and pat the spot on the couch next to you, immediately feeling Namjoon’s warmth as he sits beside you.

“W-Well it’s called a jade plant, so what about Jade?” Namjoon suggests. You wrinkle your nose at that and the boy beside you laughs, the noise sounding like music to your ears. “A little too basic then, sorry.” He hums as he tries to remember more things he knows about this plant, looking around your living room for inspiration. “They’re also low light plants, so maybe something that has to do with that?”

“What about Luna?” you ask, smile widening when Namjoon nods eagerly. “Okay, Luna it is then. Should we put a movie on now?”

Halfway through the second movie, the two of you aren’t even paying attention to the screen, your Chinese food growing cold as you tilt your head back in laughter. “You did not just say that Iron Man is the best superhero in the Marvel universe.”

“And what if I did?” Namjoon challenges you, his arms crossing over his chest and his eyes narrowing as you try to stop yourself from laughing. Here he thought you’re the girl of his dreams but of course you had to go and ruin it by saying that.

“He doesn’t even have a superpower!” you argue. “His powers come from the suit, so he’s just really smart. There are a lot of really smart people in the Marvel universe, anyone could have done that!” You smirk at him while he splutters in front of you, hand on his chest from how offended he is. “And before you ask: yes, Captain America is one of my favorite superheroes but no, I do not take his side for Civil War.”

Namjoon silently stares at you, mulling over your words as he tries to think of a counterargument but coming up with nothing. “Why do I feel like you’ve had this argument before?” he asks before shoving a handful of popcorn into his mouth. He picks up another piece and makes a throwing motion at you, clapping seconds later when you successfully catch it in your mouth.

You throw your hands up in victory as you chew, humming a yes to answer his question before speaking. “I’ve fought my friend Jungkook about this so many times, it’s ridiculous. I swear, he tries to convince me that my favorite superhero is Iron Man at least once a month. But I remain loyal to Spider-Man.”

Namjoon’s eyes widen at that, jaw dropping in shock before exclaiming, “Your favorite superhero is Spider-Man? And you have the audacity to say that Iron Man isn’t the best superhero?” He shakes his head at you as he rubs his thumb over the rim of the bowl, acting overdramatic for emphasis. “Peter would be really disappointed in you. He idolizes Tony! Tony raised him on his back!”

“Joon, we are not having this argument again, I swear to-” you begin protesting, but are cut off by a loud ringing from his phone. The both of you jump at the noise, Namjoon scrambling to answer it just to stop it from ringing.

“H-Hello?” he answers breathily, eyes darting from side to side as he listens to the, from what you can hear, incoherent yelling with music in the background. “Are you serious? Right now?” What sounds like at least two other voices yell at him, causing the blonde to draw his phone away from his ear with a wince before rolling his eyes. “Okay, yes, you stupid alcoholics, I’ll be there soon.” He hangs up and lets out a loud groan, flopping against the back of the couch as he runs a hand through his hair.

“Everything okay?” you ask with a laugh as you begin to gather all of the wrappers in a pile on the coffee table.

He merely stares at you for a few seconds before letting out another sigh, his phone beginning to ding with multiple text messages just as he’s about to explain. He turns off the ringer in annoyance before giving you the cutest pout you’ve ever seen on a man. “My friends went out tonight a-and were supposed to stay at Jin’s place because it’s close to the bar but Jin left his keys in his apartment. Which normally wouldn’t be a problem since he’s with Yoongi and Hobi, except they left their keys in his apartment too! So now I have to go back home early to let them all stay at my apartment because they’re all drunk as hell and I’m a good friend and because I have the spare key to Jin’s place.”

You slowly nod at his explanation, patting his knee reassuringly as you try not to laugh too much. “Your friends sure do sound like a handful. But they sound like they really need you.”

“Unfortunately,” Namjoon tacks on drily, making the both of you laugh. You throw out the garbage that the two of you made as he gathers his things, his eyes following you as you meet him at the door. “Thank you for having me, I-I had a lot of fun tonight.”

You beam at his words, the butterflies in your stomach making it feel like it’s turning inside out. “I did too. Can I just- Can I ask you something?” Namjoon hums out a yes and before you can back out, you blurt out, “You told me when I texted you earlier that you didn’t have any plans tonight. But… your friends went out to the bar. Did you…” You trail off the end of your sentence, too embarrassed to say, “Did you ditch them to hang out with me?” out loud.

Namjoon looks down at the floor as his cheeks blush bright red, his eyes shining brightly as he gives you a shy smile. “Watching Marvel movies and eating Chinese food with you sounded a lot better than spending another Friday night at the bar that my friends and I always go to,” he explains softly to answer your unspoken question. “Thanks again.” He opens the door and all you can do is smile as he leaves, leaning against the door frame to watch him walk all the way to the elevator.

“Same time next Friday?” you call out, surprising yourself at how bold you’ve been tonight. You feel your face flush when Namjoon suddenly turns around at the sound of your voice, his teeth perfectly on display as he grins at you from the other side of the corridor.

“Same time next Friday,” he agrees. “See you in class! And take care of Luna!” He waves goodbye to you just as the elevator doors shut, leaving you with a warm feeling in your stomach and a smile still on your face.

[scottybrock]

Day 9 - Colby Brock

A/N: This is going to be part of a series! This is my first time ever trying to write a series. Based off of a trend going around on Tik Tok; “Trying to get my best friend to fall in love with me.” I saw this and I thought it was the cutest fucking thing ever, so hope y’all enjoy.

It felt like a part of you died. Okay, so you were being dramatic- whatever. You crumpled up yet another tissue, tossing it into the garbage can next to your bed. Beside you, Katrina stroked your hair out of your face. Devyn hopped up to get yet another box of tissues, and Tara sighed loudly. “He doesn’t like me,” You murmured, your expression dazed. You had been repeating it like a mantra ever since the party, trying to burn the words into your brain, and your heart. The sooner you accepted the fact that Colby didn’t like you, the faster you could move on with your life.

Truly, you felt pathetic; it wasn’t like you to just sit around and mope and cry, especially not over a boy, no matter how hot and sweet and caring the boy was. However, you couldn’t find it in yourself to bounce back, to get back on your feet and throw yourself back into the dating pool. You still loved Colby, loved him so much that your heart ached desperately in your chest, begging for reprieve. 

“Y’know what?” Tara grabbed the box of tissues from Devyn’s hands, throwing it across the room. You snickered at that, and your friends lit up at the sound of your laughter. After all, it’d been two days, and you’d been crying non-stop. Tara grinned at your reaction, her big brown eyes twinkling at you. “You’re going on a date.”

You choked on your own spit, and Katrina and Devyn’s reactions were no different. Kat shook her head, her expression hesitant. “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea...” She trailed off, biting her lip uncertainly. Devyn glanced over at you, her expression concerned. “Tara-” You began, but Tara cut you off, her eyes wide and pleading. 

“You’ve been crying for two days straight,” Tara started, shaking her head. “I know what it’s like to not have the person you love, love you back. Trust me, I do. It hurts more than anything in the goddamn world, but it hurts less when you accept it, and start moving on with your life.” She paused, extending a hand to you. You took it and she gave your hand a gentle squeeze. “Life waits for no one, so you’ve got to make the best of things.” You sighed, shrugging helplessly. “I don’t even know who else to look at,” You whimpered. Tara simply smirked. “Leave that to me.” She replied. 

Her eyes trailed over your messy hair, bloodshot eyes, and rumpled clothes. “We’ll get you dressed up, and then you’re gonna strut your stuff. Make Colby see what he’s missing out on.” Devyn rushed off to grab her makeup bag, and Katrina shoved you into your bathroom, insisting that you needed to take a shower. 

After you showered, Tara tossed a dress at you. You slid it on and smiled at your reflection. It was a dark shade of crimson, and clung tightly to your body. Tara shuffled the shoes around in your closet, then finally held up a pair of strappy black heels. You put them on with no argument. Devyn fussed with your makeup, her brows crinkling in concentration, while Kat flitted around you, toying with your hair, her tongue poking slightly out of her mouth as she managed to get your hair into a complicated up-do. 

Finally, your friends stepped back and bright smiles flitted across their faces as they took you in, admiring their handiwork. Your hair was pulled out of your face, the soft curve of your face highlighted by a few wispy curls dangling around your face. The dress Tara picked out for you hugged you in all the right places, and the heels that encased your feet made your legs look impossibly long and lithe. 

Your eyelids glittered with a dusting of gold eyeshadow, your eyelashes brushed against the top of your cheekbones, boldened by the intricate application of mascara. Your cheekbones shimmered in the sunlight, your skin looked flawless, and your lips were full and plump, glimmering ever-so-slightly, due to the nude lipgloss Devyn had applied. 

“So, who’s taking me out?” You asked, reaching up to tug on one of your loose curls. Devyn swatted your hand away. “He’ll be here shortly.” She replied, reaching out to carefully remove a smudge of lipgloss that was on the corner of your mouth. You sat down, carefully crossing your legs at the ankles. “Who’s taking me out?” You repeated. Tara giggled, shaking her head. “You’ll see,” She singsonged. 

A knock on your door made you jump up, but Katrina shoved you back down. “We’ll bring him to you.” She told you, her expression full of mischief. You gulped, then nodded apprehensively. The three girls giggled their way out of the room, then returned with your date.

Mike grinned at you. “You look amazing,” He complimented you. Your cheeks flushed, and your gaze shifted to Tara. She grinned at you. Sam had told Katrina how Colby was so jealous of Mike hugging you, and in turn, Katrina had told Tara and Devyn while you were showering. She wanted to hit Colby where it hurt. 

Mike took your hand and led you out of your apartment. “So, Sam told me what happened at the party,” Mike said softly as you closed the door behind the both of you. You shook your head quickly, trying to blink back your tears. “I don’t want to talk about it.” You replied, shaking your head again. Mike placed a hand on your arm. “I’m just saying,” He murmured. “Colby’s an idiot. He’s an idiot for not seeing what’s right in front of him.”

Your cheeks flushed yet again, and Mike smiled. “I know that you’re still in love with him. That’s okay. To be honest, I’m rooting for the two of you.” You laughed at that, shifting on your feet. “Then why are we going on a date?” You teased. Mike snickered, shaking his head. “Trying to give Colby a push in the right direction.” He replied. 

As if he was summoned, Colby’s door swung open. He was carrying a garbage bag to bring to the trash chute, but froze in his doorway at the sight of you, wrapped up in Mike’s arms. The dress you wore clung to your body in all the right places, and your skin shimmered in such a way that Colby just wanted to run his hands all over your body. You didn’t even look up, knowing that if you looked at Colby, you would break.

Mike seemed to sense that, and his arms tightened around your waist comfortingly. “Hey, Colby,” Mike grinned, sharp and scrutinizing. Colby’s stomach churned, and he was barely able to greet Mike back. He tried to get you to look at him, but your gaze remained stubbornly on the floor. 

Mike’s grin widened as a scowl spread across Colby’s face. “Where are you two headed off to?” Colby asked, trying his hardest to seem nonchalant, uncaring. By the wide grin on Mike’s face, he failed miserably. “We’re gonna grab a bite to eat,” Mike replied, raising an eyebrow. Colby tried his hardest, but despite all of his effort, his scowl deepened. His heart burned in his chest, and he wanted to punch the smug grin off of Mike’s face. 

Before he could, Mike’s grip tightened on you. “Let’s go, babe.” Mike’s voice had a taunting edge to it, and it took everything in you to not turn around and see Colby’s reaction. Based off of Mike’s body trembling with suppressed laughter, it was a sight to see. You didn’t spare Colby even one look as you allowed Mike to guide you away. 

Colby tossed his trash bag at his feet, his scowl twisting his features. Your apartment door slid open, and Tara smiled smugly at him. “That could’ve been you!” She singsonged. 

[damian-dreamz8442]

Missing in Action Part I

In case y’all haven’t noticed, I write batfam fics, Damian centric, whump or hurt/comfort. So guess what this is? If you guessed a hurt/comfort Batfam fic with the whole batfam going out of their minds trying to find Damian then you get a virtual gold star. 

Now throw that out. There are no gold stars in the real world. 

Anyways, just FYI I’ve only read some of the comics and watched the movies so my timeline is probably complete crap. This is set during Bruce’s ‘death’ when Dick was Batman, but I’m just going to assume that Tim, Jason, Stephanie and Cass were all still around somewhere, so yeah they’re in this story. I like the big family dynamic, ok?

IMPORTANT TO THE PLOT:

I know the Joker is either dead or not really a problem (in arkham? Insane?) in the timeline where Damian is Robin and Bruce is dead but we’re going to make this an AU for the Worry purposes. 

It should’ve been a routine patrol, so why did Dick have reason to worry? He never should’ve let down his guard. Maybe if he hadn’t made a promise to Damian for ice cream after patrol, his little brother would’ve been on higher alert. Maybe then the clowns that jumped out of the shadows wouldn’t have been able to knock him out and make off with the littlest robin. 

Dick Grayson was a man prone to worry. His heart raced, his brain hiccuped, he almost had to pull over to avoid throwing up in the Batmobile. 

It was his and Dami’s night to patrol, finally, after Dick had been in bed with a broken wrist for days. Even Gotham seemed to notice the duo’s good mood and gave them a beautiful, peaceful night to enjoy. It was night’s like those when Dick didn’t mind the cowl as much - and even then, he couldn’t help but see Bruce in his own shadow. 

“Hey, Robin,” Dick paused, dropping into a dark alley and turning to his partner, “what do you say we take a break after this?” 

“Tt,” came Damian’s customary response, “isn’t that highly unprofessional, Batman?” 

Dick gestured to the calm air and the sparkling stars, almost visible despite the thick canopy of smog. “I don’t think we’ll be missed.” 

Of course, false hope for the bat family was karma’s calling card, and she reared her ugly head not a second later. 

Dick noticed looming figures appear at the end of the alleyway just as Damian spun at the sound of footfalls behind them. They were hemmed in by six thugs at least. Large ones. 

As the goons lumbered towards them, Batman and Robin armed themselves back to back. One of the figures stepped into the light - if you could call it that - and Damian bristled at his appearance. Thick clown makeup marred his face, sinister eyes leering at him. 

Eight in total hemmed them in, with clubs and other blunt objects. That was almost worse than knives or guns; weapons made to kill. It was obvious these adversaries had other plans for them. 

During the fight, Damian made a mistake. It almost never happened, but he let instincts and impatience takeover. He launched himself onto the shoulders of one of the goons, dispatching him. Damian didn’t even notice he had left Dick open to an attack from behind, without so much as a warning. 

A club crashed down on Batman’s head, dropping him like a sack of potatoes. Damian heard the undignified thump and realized his error, yelling a string of curses in arabic. 

Dick was harder to take down then he looked, but heavily concussed with two goons sitting on his back would do it. They took off his utility belt and tossed it aside, laughing as he sluggishly clawed at their weight. 

Dick was forced to watch as the rest of the thugs that remained standing went after his baby brother. Four large men with short range blunt weaponry shouldn’t have been this difficult, Damian knew. However his mind was betraying him, racing with thoughts of his mistake and his brother’s well being. 

A well placed two-by-four and a hard swing later, Damian crumpled to the cobblestones. 

“No,” Dick groaned, reaching for his robin, “leave him alone!” He shoved again at the crushing weight on his back but he had no leverage, and could barely tell up from down. 

One of the men picked up Damian and slung him over a shoulder. The other three sneered down at the fallen Batman, snarling at them like a wild animal. 

“We don’t need this one,” A man sitting on Dick’s back said, “but we aren’t supposed to kill him.”

“I’d like to,” the one holding Damian laughed, “but my hands are full!” He made a point at jostling Damian. Dick’s heart wrenched at the sound of his littlest brother’s groan. 

Following a round of laughter, they knocked Dick out. 

Dick woke to a horrifying scene. Damian was gone, the goons were gone, it was over an hour later. Dick’s head was pounding, blood sticking to his neck, rushing in his ears. A jack-in-the-box sat on the sidewalk in front of him. Dick crawled towards it, fumbling to get it open, fingers numb. It popped right out of his grip, and he nearly flinched. A tinny laugh rang from the contraption as a clown face wobbled on the end of a spring. As if Dick didn’t know it was the Joker as soon as he saw the goons. 

The Joker had Damian. Dick suddenly felt very, very cold.

Joker’s thugs really were imbeciles, Damian thought as he came too. First of all, he was being carried like a sack of flour, giving him full access to the large man’s vulnerable back. Second, his utility belt was still on his waist. Can’t get good help these days. 

Damian felt warm and wet liquid in his hair, undoubtedly blood, but not enough to concern him. 

Somehow the lugs had climbed a building on third street, only ten blocks from the scuffle. Damian let his head bounce to the side as the man walked to get a glimpse at the moon. He bit back a sigh as he realized he’d been out for almost half an hour. He was pathetic, letting a little hit to the head do him in so swiftly for so long. At least the overabundance of incompetence from Joker’s group made up for some of his clearly unacceptable failings. 

A plan of action was slowly turning in Damian’s brain, and he cursed his own weakness - silently - as a headache began pounding a steady beat. His thoughts were sluggish, so he finally decided to just let the idiots take him back to their lair. It involved the least amount of work for him. He could turn on his tracker when he got there and maybe take down the Joker in the rescue attempt. 

Damian counted another fifteen minutes had passed before their van came into view. It was then that Damian’s brain caught up with the situation. Sure, the thugs were feckless moron’s, but it was obvious their plan was well thought through. They had been waiting for Damian and Dick, meaning they’d probably been following them for a few blocks at least. Somehow they’d managed to go undetected. They worked together to accomplish their goal. Their getaway van was nowhere near the scene, in case Batman or Robin managed to get out a distress call. 

Robin realized he was not dealing with common thugs, but men who worked for the Joker; a psychopath who was one of the few people to actually cause Batman difficulty. Even beat him. Even kill a robin. 

Damian didn’t have time for subtlety. He grabbed a birdarang and sliced the man carrying him all the way up the back. Flipping off him, Damian landed in a spray of blood and shocked yells. Seven goons were suddenly running at him, but they were unarmed. Their blunt weapons had to be discarded to climb several buildings on their trip, and they hadn’t been valuable enough to keep on person anyways. Damian had been counting on their weapons just being conveniently found refuse. 

Jumping to the side, Damian unsheathed the katana on his back, slashing a them non-lethally. His concussion made him slow, they were closing in. Damian jumped down the building, vaulting down the fire escape. They followed him, much slower, as he ran across the street. 

Damian realized too late he’d ran down a dead end, with their van just across the street. They had picked up some weapons by now, though they were cut and bleeding, they were ever the more sinister. 

The fire escape of the apartment building at least gave him the higher ground, which he used to slash at the goons and keep them at bay. He kicked at their heads, even resorting to hissing at them like a wild animal. They got in a few hits, which Damian attributed to his slowness from being concussed. 

He felt a rib crack as he was caught in the side with a metal bat, too distracted trying to keep one from grabbing his ankles through the bars to notice another climbing the ladder. 

One of them had gotten a butcher’s hook from somewhere - probably a garbage can, gross - and used it to slash at Damian’s calves and arms. A hand closed around his ankle as Damian tried to defend himself, yanking him onto his back. He heard a loud pop and yelled as his ankle was dislocated, maybe even broken. 

A last burst of energy was all Damian had left, but he gave them hell. He was surprised to find the adrenaline clearing, leaving him in an alleyway with eight unconscious, bloody thugs. 

Damian only managed to get a few buildings away before he collapsed on a roof, bleeding and sore. He pulled out his communicator and balked at the smashed metal. Broken. Useless. Not unlike him at the moment. Damian groaned, flopping on the roof. 

Damian had no idea if Dick was where they’d left him, or if Dick was even alright. He had no way of contacting his older brother, the batcave, anyone. His grappling hook was nowhere to be found, his tracker was cleaved in half from the hit from the bat, and his phone was completely out of batteries. 

So... he was walking home. On a dislocated - maybe broken - ankle. Damian let out a long suffering sigh and got to his feet. 

Ten minutes before his minions were supposed to arrive back at base, the Joker got a call from one of them. 

“Yes, Dave?”

“Oh, actually my name-”

“Speak!” 

“Right, well... the kid got away.” 

“The... the little kid. Robin. The itsy bitsy can’t-be-more-than-fourteen-years-old Robin.” Joker punched the nearest person as it was affirmed that, yes, his well-briefed goons had lost the punk. Weeks of planning, wasted. 

“Get back here so I can disembowel you myself!” Joker growled. The kid getting away would definitely put a damper on the fun he had planned. But maybe it wasn’t a total loss. 

Dick was looking for clues and searching nearby alleys, trying not to get too distracted by his all-encompassing worry. He’d already called Alfred and not only had their been no word from Damian but both his tracker and communicator were out of commission. 

As Dick sprinted across the street for the fifth time, thinking he saw a glint in the trash, the phone booth rang. It was odd to even still have phone booths, let alone have them ring with no one around to answer. Dick picked up the receiver on the last ring. 

“Batman, I hope?” A sickeningly familiar voice leered. Dick seethed, it had been a long time since he’d heard that voice, but he would never forget it. Joker took his silence for an answer. 

“I have your Robin, in case you were wondering. I see you got another upgrade. A shiny new version. Adorable!” Dick let out a low growl, sounding more like Bruce than usual, “Don’t touch him.” 

“Oh, did you want him back? Already?” Dick clenched his fist, trying not to break the phone before he heard whatever sick game Joker wanted to play. 

“Good news for you, then! He’s waiting for you, in the place your little birdies go to die.” The Joker hung up, and Dick was panicking again. Where did robins go to die? The park? Was there some communal bird cemetery in Gotham? Was Joker planning to kill Damian? Dick needed to get answers, asap. He needed backup.  

So since I did a lot of explaining already, I’m just going to end this with a friendly goodbye and a reminder that I understand this story does not follow the plot of the comics probably at all? It’s ok guys, I’m not writing for accuracy. 

[tchalla-rogers]

Avengers: Inevitable (Part 6)

Tony Stark x Stark!Reader (and Steve Rogers x Reader)

Part 5 is HERE. Part 7 is HERE. Series Masterlist.

It took absolutely everything in Steve to never say a word about what Strange told him that night. Even when you successfully obtained everything you needed for the time machine, thanks to Scott’s help. You remember how lost and distant everyone was when half of Earth’s population was dusted years ago. That was a time when Pepper finally had your half-sister, Morgan, who you grew to love wholeheartedly once she blessed your family. Tony got everything he wanted, which he feared being ripped away.

Even though you spent a lot of your time with your family, you made sure to always keep Steve in the picture. You assisted him in his sessions where he would help individuals who were suffering after Thanos snapped his fingers. You both equally helped each other when one of you didn’t have the strength to get out of bed in the morning. Seeing Steve being playful with Morgan was something you could never forget.

Eventually, it seemed like nothing that happened with Thanos hindered your family. But, when you stepped into the compound, the gloominess of that day haunted each room you stepped into and each one of your friends who made it through. Wherever Steve went, he held determination for bringing everyone back. He believed that that was his duty and when Scott showed up outside of the compound, it was like he was finally fulfilling what he was hoping to do for those five years. He just didn’t think he would lose Natasha or Tony in the process, or seeing Peggy, which eventually lead to him losing you.

And now here he was knowing what the outcomes would be before you even did and determination was coursing through his blood again. He knew he would undoubtedly stop you from doing something dangerous and that feeling of knowing calmed his nerves.

For you, it was calming to have someone like Scott supporting you along the way after he helped you to obtain everything you needed to enter the Quantum Realm once again. And although Scott’s assistance was appreciated, it took a lot of convincing on your part for Bruce to even accept being apart of this. Virginia didn’t even have time to process anything before you were attempting to hook up everything you needed.

She immediately spoke with Steve about this and she was perplexed to see how much more undisturbed he became. So, now there was Virginia, Bucky, and Sam, wondering what the hell everyone got into. And then there was you, Steve, Scott, and Bruce setting everything up as if hell wasn’t breaking loose in Strange’s apartment a few days ago. When she finally pulled Steve to the side, she noticed his eyes wavering every few seconds, constantly checking on your distracted form.

One of Virginia’s eyebrows raised, studying his face and how his arms were crossed defensively in front of him. “You know something that none of us know,” Virginia stated, staring at him as he finally made eye contact with your friend. “Spit it out.”

Steve shook his head slowly, sighing in frustration. “You know I can’t.”

“Well, that seems to be the only thing I know. I just don’t know why. We already know that in Strange’s one out of 14,000,065 chances of beating Thanos, that timeline involves Tony coming back. Y/N already told all of us.”

A bite of the lip and a clench of the jaw caused Steve’s demeanor to change. “He made her believe that there is that one chance out of that number of chances that coincides with us defeating Thanos and Tony coming back, but that’s not how it works.”

“Sorry, I’m lost and now my brain is hurting. What the hell do you mean?” Virginia asked, pushing for Steve to answer. He almost shakes his head before she stops him. “I will never tell her. If there is something you know that actually keeps her safe in the end, I need to know.”

“He said that there are multiple timelines after Thanos was defeated and there are only two where Tony successfully comes back.”

***

When it was finally time, you made sure to be the only one in the Quantum Realm suit. You were sure most of your friends knew about your plan of action, but that didn’t mean that you wanted any of them to witness it. And it was hard not to notice how Steve so easily accepted what was to come, recently. You believed that it probably happened after the night at Strange’s apartment or after, but that didn’t mean that it wasn’t strange. You couldn’t even comprehend having an actual conversation with him right now. It was difficult to say goodbye to a man you loved and you knew the risk of the entire situation. Yet, it never stopped you.

Now, you were dressed in your suit, anxiousness setting in. Bruce was firing up the system, intently focused on pressing multiple buttons that you didn’t know the meaning of. Everyone stood around the room, besides Steve, and you had no clue of where he was. It was probably better that way, knowing you determination would settle once you saw his blue eyes. You were already tired from the tight hugs and multiple “good luck”s that came your way and the thousands of “thank you’s” that you poured out. That didn’t mean that you didn’t want to seem him for what could possibly be the last time.

You quietly stepped onto the time machine, turning around and observing everyone’s watchful eyes. If this was a moment where Steve came barging in, you would’ve accepted him with open arms. Instead, he was nowhere to be found and your heart was beating rapidly in your chest.

How would you react to seeing Tony again? How would Pepper react? Morgan? You weren’t sure if you would even be alive to witness that and with that thought, you were flying through the Quantum Realm.

2023

You landed with a heavy thud, dust invading your lungs and trying to observe your surroundings. It was foggy at first, before clearing and your eyes settling on a figure sprawled across the ground. After a few seconds, it dawned on you that it most definitely was your 2023 self, right after Thanos blasted the compound. You remembered that you never changed out of the Quantum Realm suit that day and you remembered that Steve would be looking for you soon.

You grasped the sedative vile that was stuffed under your suit. Stumbling upon it in Bruce’s lab, you knew you might need at some point and damn, was this one of them. When you knew you would be knocked out for a couple more hours, you realized that instead of Steve coming to look for you, you decided to look for him. And in a few steps, you began to hear quick footsteps closing in on where you were. You were too focused on the thought of your past self not being out of sight, but eventually, you bumped into something hard.

“Hey, Y/N, you okay?” You knew that voice all too much, looking into Steve’s worrying eyes. A quick nod on your part and Steve pulled you into a tight hug, causing your eyes to widen from shock.

“Steve?” you mumbled, feeling Steve’s arms wrapped tightly around you. When he finally pulled away, you observed his face and in that moment, you took it into your memory. “Where is everyone?”

“Tony and Thor are keeping their eyes on Thanos.” You nodded uneasily, watching Steve’s outstretched his hand that he offered for you to take. It was going to be hard to hide all of the hurt you felt since your father sacrificed his life, but you would try your hardest. “Whatever the outcome, we’re in this together. Whatever it takes.” You slightly grinned, grabbing his hand as you both walked to where Tony and Thor were.

The sight of the two of them had your mind racing, looking at your father who was pissed at Thanos grinning in the distance. He heard footsteps behind him, turning around slightly and peacefully sighed once he saw that you were safe. Your father pulled you into an embrace that made up for everything, a sob slightly shaking your body and you didn’t know it would come so quickly. “Are you okay, sweetheart?” Tony pulled away, seeing fresh tears, yet a smile on your face. “The only time you happy cry is when I bring you home food.”

You chuckled, pulling Tony in for a hug once again. Tony looked over at Thor and Steve, silently asking what was going on, but Steve just shrugged. He knew that he would have his eyes on you during this entire battle against Thanos and that’s a promise he made to himself when he put on that time travel suit.

a/n: y’all this is garbage but i wanted to put this out since parts have been delayed cause i’m so busy with school. i hope y’all enjoy cause the next episode is gonna be a mindfuck hehe.

taglist for those who have asked or who have been keeping up with the series so far: @capsiclesdoll @lilulo-12 @kaetastic @colie87 @lovely-geek

[kitanoko]

In which Todoroki and Kaminari ‘studied’

Note: HEY EVERYONE, I haven’t written in a long time (a year at least?) but I want to dedicate this to @selephi and @foxxhunter44 ‘cas they’ve always been very supportive of my fanfics and heck I hope y’all enjoy this!

This hit, that ice cold, Michelle Pfeiffer that white gold… This one for them hood girls, Them good girls straight masterpieces~

Todoroki tapped along with the rhythm unexpectedly, unaware of where the upbeat song had seeped from until he saw from the corner of his tired eyes that the boy studying beside him was grooving with headphones on. The music was loud enough for Todoroki to wonder if it would prove any hearing damage to the electric hero chilling beside him, leg propped up.

“Are you even studying?” Todoroki had his cheek pressed against his hand, eyes fixated on the biochem notes Midoriya had kindly lent him. The candy wrappers and biscuit crumbs lay grubbily on the scratched up table and he took a refreshing sip of his ice cold coconut water.

Kaminari didn’t hear him, head swaying like he was at the club. Spreading his notes further across the table, Todoroki shook his head in disapproval. He had hoped his classmate would at least try to focus on the upcoming exam. He didn’t have to come after all; he was perfectly appeased with reviewing his lessons in the quiet midst of his room. It was really Kaminari who had asked him to join.

Todoroki nudged him with his elbow after emptying his drink. The blond boy unwantedly pulled down his red headphones and curved a brow, steadily shooting Todoroki a questionable look.

“Yah?”

Kaminari had the audacity to give him a nonchalant one-word response, seriously?

Todoroki gave a grunt, meeting his golden irises with discontent.

“As much as I’d like to stay here and watch you throw your grades away,” Todoroki started, rough hands gathering his notes, “I’m gonna go take a breather.”

Come to think of it, if he left now, he’d probably be able to squeeze in time for the weekly hero special on channel 9 which Midoriya and Iida were for sure going to be watching in the common room. He could already see his best friends’ eyes unblinking towards the screen and letting out the occasional laugh. Not to mention the scent of Yaoyorozu’s relaxing lavender tea tickling under his nose as she walked by in her comfy robe (yes he’s imagining this too)…her soft hair flowing like in her latest commercial and…

Wait Todoroki Shouto. Just stop. Stop whatever you’re thinking.

“Aww, come on Todoroki, don’t be a bum! I was studying I swear!”

That snapped the duo quirk boy back to his senses.

Todoroki peered at him at the corner of his eyes, hands readying to stuff the papers back into his backpack.

“…were you though?”

Kaminari sheepishly scratched the nape of his neck, legs easing back down onto the wooden floor. Hearing his friend’s challenging tone, he quickly said, “I mean…I WILL be studying. Dude, I totally invited you mainly just to like…hang out and you know…get to know each other. This biochem stuff is easy peasy. I could do the test in my sleep.”

“Big words Kaminari. Last time I heard, Jirou hit you on the head ‘cause you couldn’t even draw a water molecule.”

“You sure that was me bruh?”

“Yes. ‘Cause I saw your paper and you drew two oxygens linked to a hydrogen.”

The electric hero stuck his tongue out. “My bad. Silly mistake really…..ANYWAYS” The blond waved his hand in attempt to change topics, “….let’s have some bro time.”

Todoroki didn’t like the sound of that.

“And what does that entail?” He questioned, bending his knee onto his seat.

Kaminari flicked a piece of loose hair.

“Okay question 1.”

“Wha—“

“Who would you choose out of the girls in our class?”

“Choose for what scenario.”

Kaminari smirked. “As a girlfriend bruh. Girlfriend.”

Todoroki shrugged. “Probably Yaoyorozu. Why?”

At that the fire and ice user felt a shook on the ground as Kaminari slumped flat, rolling in laughter.

“OH MY GOD MINETA SO OWES ME 10 BUCKS. ”

The former stared blankly.

“Wasn’t that obvious, who else was I supposed to choose?” Todoroki tried again to shrug it off.

Kaminari’s eyes beamed, “Wait…” He fished out his phone, finger mischievously hovering over the red button, “Can I record this confession so I can broadcast it to all of UA. Not that it needs broadcasting though since anyone who doesn’t have grapes for brains know.”

Todoroki ran a hand through the whites of his hair before he reasoned. “Well, we met before during the recommendation exam. Then there’s the cavalry battle. And of course our fight against Aizawa. Plus, we worked quite well rescuing Bakugou. Yaoyorozu is the most logical choice.”

“Only you would explain that with ‘logic’.” Kaminari mocked and rested his chin against the cup of his hand, “There isn’t anything other than you two having that ‘bond’ that made you say Yaomomo’s name so fast?”

Todoroki actually gave it a thoughtful five seconds before coming up with, “Uh..her personality’s not bad and I wouldn’t doubt she’s the most intelligent student in UA.”

“And?”

“I really don’t know what else.”

“Bro, she’s nicknamed ‘Goddess’ …class B calls her ‘Queen’. Ya sure there isn’t even a slighttttt chance you’d say you’re also attracted to her face?”

Kaminari dragged the word rather mischievously, lips upturning into a cunning yet generous smile. It sent shivers down Todoroki’s spine and not in a pleasant manner. The latter stood up to put away the bunched up jacket that had slid down from the arm of a chair. Oh Thank God. It was something to distract him from saying the wrong words.

“Haven’t thought much about it.” He nonchalantly uttered, mouth parted in an exhale. He turned around wanting to say more when he noticed a noise.

Steady three knocks were heard behind Kaminari and he gestured for his friend to grab the door. What stood on the other side was the girl of topic playing with the ends of her hair which had been fixed straight and held with a bowtie clip above the right of her forehead. Her glassy doll eyes happily danced from Kaminari to Todoroki which seemed unusually fixated on her.

It was different. Nice. Ponytails on her were good too, no, it was great! But this was refreshing. Like seeing the sun rising just after thunderous rain. Okay that’s exaggerating. But heck, he liked it.

“Something on her face?” Kaminari asked and if Todoroki had eyes behind his head he’d be able to see his annoying grin again.

The duo quirk boy rolled his eyes.

“Sorry to interrupt Todoroki-san!” Yaoyorozu did a slight nod to Kaminari as well, “I was wondering if you two would like to enjoy some thumbprint cookies I made?”

At that the electric blond jumped over. Todoroki looked down from her rosy-cheeked smile and saw that indeed she had some baked good in her hands. Circular shortbread with an oval imprint in the middle filled with what looked like raspberry jam.

“That looks delicious Yaomomo!” Kaminari quickly grabbed a few and popped it into his mouth ignoring all common etiquette. But it was Kaminari so ‘etiquette’ didn’t compute to him.

The other two watched as he chewed, sweat starting to bead on his forehead while his jaw completely stopped moving. He also didn’t swallow.

Yaoyorozu frowned. “Is it…not good?”

Kaminari faked a chortle while his face folded into an ugly grimace.

“Ahw no! It zo ….yummmmmmy,” the blond had managed to cough out and nudged Todoroki with his elbows. His voice was obstructed by the mixture of cookie dough and jam that had sat on his tongue. Kaminari rubbed his tummy.

“YYuuummm,” he mumbled again.

The white and red haired boy wanted to roll his eyes again at the thought of how fake Kaminari’s acting was and noticed the girl in front of him slump in defeat, hands lowering the plate of cookies sadly. Todoroki immediately extended a hand to receive the plate and took one of her creations to taste.

Oh god. Now he knew why Kaminari had that expression.

Yaoyorozu’s eyes glinted and sparkled with anticipation, watching his every move.

“So? Todoroki-san?”

Should he…say something?

A whole 20 seconds had passed before he turned to give Kaminari an awkward look as if they could read each other’s minds.

Todoroki swallowed.

Man, it felt like sand and tasted like chalk. How he knew what chalk taste like he didn’t know. At least the jam was somewhat normal.

“It’s,” He swallowed again just to get rid of the aftertaste, “very well-done, Yaoyorozu.”

Good thing he usually had no expression ‘cause now was the best time to look neutral.

“Aww thank you!” The girl appeared zealous, white teeth beaming with her lovely façade. She pushed the rest into his hands. “Enjoy these then. And oh! They’re great with jasmine tea! I’ll head back out now! Can’t have Jirou and Ashido waiting.”

“Sure thanks,” Todoroki nodded in acknowledge and waved once as he watched her stroll-skip along the hall back to the elevators, the flutter of her flowery pajamas catching his attention.

Kaminari hurried to push the door to a close and spat out what looked like cookie sludge into the closest garbage can, some missing the target and ending up on the floor.

“Holy crap that was the worst decision I ever made. It tasted like dirt.”

Todoroki sent him a heated glare.

“Bro I know you were dying inside when you gulped that thing down too.” Kaminari’s gaze rested on the cookies in Todoroki’s hand, eyes narrowing as if they were poisonous.

“Well I didn’t want to hurt her feelings.”

“You’re in too deep my man.”

Todoroki pretended to not understand what his friend was implying and started to open his tea cabinet.

“What are you doing dude.”

“Making jasmine tea as Yaoyorozu suggested.”

Kaminari could only facepalm and slumped back down onto his previous seat. “Don’t tell me you’re actually going to eat the rest of her cookies? I’ll help you flush them down the toilet okay?” Kaminari sent a wink. “And I’ll keep it a secret between us.”

Todoroki shook his head. “I feel like she made it with all her effort and I’m wasting that.” Tapping against the hot kettle that was beginning to bubble from the boiling water inside, the fire and ice user felt a small, appreciative tug along the curve of his lips.

“And seeing her this happy? That was worth it.”

He turned around noticing Kaminari’s sudden quietness and found him leaning forward with his phone in hand, his right thumb just releasing from the red button on his screen.

“—ANNNNDDD DONE. RECORDED!”

Todoroki froze as he dropped what he was doing

“What.”

“I’ve just recorded the oh-so-great Todoroki admit his crush like a giddy teenager.”

“I was not giddy.”

“Oh, were you not? Okay sorry, I’ll say ‘lovesick’.”

Todoroki took a step. His aura begin to build, even Kaminari could feel the heat emitting from his left side. A wave of warmth gradually began to waft over and the blond quickly stood in defence.

“Yo, calm down bro, alright I won’t show anybody.”

“Then delete it.”

The blond crossed his arms, teasingly wiggled a finger. “Sorry man, this is hard evidence.”

“Fine.”

Kaminari felt uneasy. The boy in front of him loosened his expression so quickly that it felt almost ominous. Something was up.

“You give up quick dude.”

Todoroki’s shoulders slacked and continued to brew his tea, taking it in stride. “It’s nothing. Just remembered that I have a picture of you crying because you didn’t know how to write Jirou a confession letter.”

Kaminari’s jaw fell open in a big ‘O’.

“WAIT WAIT WAIT HOLLLL UP BRUH.” The electric user stumbled in his steps as he shook Todoroki from side to side. “YOU HAVE WHAT? SHOW ME.”

The former scrambled to find Todoroki’s phone and the duo quirk hero fished it out of his pocket and began to swipe the screen a few times. A smirk finally formed on his chapped lips.

“Yeah. Still here. I forgot to delete it after Bakugou sent it to me.”

“BAKUGOU?!” Kaminari pulled it off Todoroki’s hands. An embarrassing picture of him, eyes red, holding a piece of paper and pen in hand in the corner of the dorm lobby surfaced on the 6 inch screen.

“Guess we’re even then.” Todoroki shrugged. “You can keep that and I’ll keep this.”

Kaminari fell onto his knees in defeat.

“NO PLEASE.”

“Too late.”

“I’ll delete your recording! Come on!”

“Nope.” Todoroki took a heavy sip of his tea as the aroma tickled his nostrils. He grabbed a cookie. Mmm, it was better with tea for sure. Or was this what petty-ness tasted like?

His heterochromic eyes fixated on Kaminari’s frantic expression as he instinctively pulled it back into his pocket.

“To be honest, I don’t even care if you showed what I said to other people. It was a comment I’m not ashamed of and heck, everyone knew I voted for her for class president. It’s not shocking I’d support her in any way I can.”

Kaminari finally came to his senses and forced a sigh.

“Fine. You win. But I swear to all that is holy, Todoroki Shouto, if you EVER show Jirou this I will not hesitate.”

Todoroki almost outright laughed. “Okay, okay.”

“Bro date over now.” Kaminari slogged out the door, sounding unappeased, “Goodnight.”

“Oh, already?” Todoroki teased.

Kaminari’s head swung low as he head towards the hallway and Todoroki mumbled a short ‘Mm.’ before helping him close the door.

Good thing he didn’t mention that Bakugou had sent it to Ashido as well, Todoroki thought, or else he’d worry if Kaminari could even sleep tonight.