#i really kept looking at quotes but something about this one really stuck out to me the most.

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

A New World: part 8

Bayverse!Leonardo x reader

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

A/N: I know absolutely nothing about multi dimensions, other than what is being said in fictional works, so I thought, eh, let me have my own crack at making up something about it, heh.

Leo is 25, reader is 22 - 23.

Warnings: None for now💙

Leo wasn’t happy when (Y/N) came back empty handed, nor was he happy to be caught watching more of himself on her TV screen. If felt like being caught by your own parents, with your hand down the cookie jar. Embarrassing. Only that it felt even more embarrassing for Leo, especially when it was the exact same version of him, having a hero moment, being given the key to the city alongside his brothers. very embarrassing. But his embarrassment was far overshadowed by the sadness of (Y/N)’s news, slumping back into the couch with his face in his hands. She had nothing. He was stuck here…

“There must be something we can do”, (Y/N) said, walking in circles in the living room, tapping her chin in thought. At this pace, it was just a matter of time before she would start creating indents in her wooden floor.

“Like what?”, Leo said, looking up from his hands with an exhausted expression. “That was our last option”.

“Well, at least the last option that we know of”, she said, trying to give him an optimistic smile. Trying was the keyword.

Leo sighed, rubbing his face again. Just as he had hoped this woman was becoming less unbearable, she turned out to be just as annoying as before. This world was about to drive him mad.

“I don’t know how you expect to learn of a different way to do it. Or at least one that actually works”, Leo said, feeling himself getting drained from all energy. “We might as well give up. There’s no way this is going to work”.

(Y/N) stopped dead in her tracks, staring directly at Leo, as if his words had just personally insulted her. “Give up?! We can’t give up! It’s not like you to give up! You always figure something out! You always do! That’s what the ninja turtle Leonardo do! The leader in blue! Does whatever it takes to get his ninjas through!”

“Will you quit rimming and quoting cartoon intros?”

“No I’ll not!”, she said, stepping just in front of Leo, forcing him to look up at her. It honestly took Leo slightly aback. “You can’t just give up! We can’t just give up! You have only been here for two days! Shell, who knows, maybe the others are trying to find a way to get you back! Maybe all you have to do is wait before Donnie and April figure something out! Maybe they are working in a machine or something as we’re speaking, and in a moment Vern will trip over some wires, which somehow turns out to be exactly what is needed for the machine to work!”

“I’m afraid you’re putting too much faith in Vern’s abilities”, Leo said.

“That doesn’t matter”, (Y/N) said, taking a seat next to Leo on the couch, once again taking a moment to take in his huge size next to her. Though he was slumping over, he was still so much larger than her. Her head only ever so slightly reaching up over his shoulder. Yet he looked so… sad, maybe even broken. He was truly stumped on this. He had no idea what to do. For the first time ever, was Leonardo from the Bayverse universe ready to give up. And it scared (Y/N). The Leo she had known all her childhood would never give up. So she couldn’t let him do it now.

“Leo, I mean it. You can’t give up. In all the time I’ve known you, you’ve never given up. You’ve always kept going till you found a way, even if it took some time and seemed a little off. You always find a way”.

“You met me two days ago”, Leo said dismissively, his gaze seemingly locked on his fingertips as they pressed against each other.

“No, Leo. It’s you that met me two days ago. I’ve known you pretty much all of my life, remember?”, (Y/N) said, nodding towards all the DVDs still laying out in front of them. “You have been there everyday as I grew up. There was a time where you really helped me, Leo”. Leo looked at her in slight confusion, his brow muscles frowning, as if he in some way asked her to explain what she meant, and so she did, playing nervously with her thumbs as she did so. “There was a time, back in kindergarten, where I was really scared. The other kids were starting to say… some not so nice things to me. They poked fun at the way I was dressed, and the fact that I in some ways was a little bit different than them. But then, one day, I remember I saw you and your brothers on television”, she said, nodding towards the 2003 DVDs. “It was not the first time I saw you, and it was certainly not the last time. You were fighting Shredder, and you were brave. Nothing held you back, just like I wished nothing would hold me back”. (Y/N) smiled at her thumb, when the small flashes of disjointed memories came through her mind. “So I brought an action figure of you with me to kindergarten, so that I could feel braver. And it worked. I felt brave”.

(Y/N) did not expect Leo to smile at this, but to her surprise, he genuinely did. He even chuckled at the thought of her, watling around kindergarten, clutching an action figure of him to her chest. It was almost absurd to think of. But with everything around him taken into account, then maybe it wasn’t…

Leo sat for a moment, thinking through what she had just told him. He knew she was trying to comfort him, letting him know that it would all be okay in the end. And though he still felt conflicted, and at that moment couldn’t see how anything was going to work out, his best option was to believe her, and hope she was right. There was simply no other thing to do.

“Well”, Leo said, finally turning back towards (Y/N). “Since we can only wait and see now, do you have anything else planned for today?”

(Y/N) sat for a moment, before a sudden smile flashed onto her face. “No, but I have an idea”.

“What?”

“Wanna go to the zoo?”

“What”.

—

“This better be important”, Agent Bishop said as he marched into the lab, having rushed back at the sound of Dr. Lilja’s message, his son standing in the doorway into the lab, clutching his Ninja Turtles pillow tight, playing with its blue bandana nervously. He had never liked the way his father walked towards his scientists, and today didn’t make him feel any better…

“I promise you, sir, I think you will find this information very important”, Dr. Lilja said, directing Agent Bishop towards his monitor, pointing out the numbers for him. “I looked through the data just before I called for you”.

“And what did you find?”, Bishop asked, his patients already growing thin. He didn’t look at numbers for a reason. That was why he hired people to do it for him.

“I found a momentarily thinning in the air and atmosphere, indicating a dimensional breakthrough”, Lilja said, showing Bishop exactly where.

“What?!”, Bishop exclaimed, almost pushing Lilja away from the screen, making his son hide behind his pillow for a moment. It was a reflex at this point. Whenever his father raised his voice around one of the scientists, the boy now knew better than to look. He learned very quickly after the last time he saw Stockman…

“How is that possible?”, Bishop asked, something brewing within his voice. “I thought you said thinning the air and atmosphere naturally was next to impossible”.

“It’s because it didn’t happen naturally”, Dr. Lilja said. “It was most likely man made”.

“What?!”, Agent Bishop exclaimed, his face getting red, his mind already running to several different scenarios in which Lilja had backstabbed him, sabotaged his machine and sent the blue paper to one of his enemies. “How? How?! You little scum! Have gone behind my back!”

“No! No!”, Dr. Lilja yelled, holding up his hands as a form of protection from Bishop, as he came for him. “It was the machine! The explosion! It worked! Not as intended, but it worked! Whatever your son did, it worked!”

Agent Bishop halted his attack on Dr. Lilja, staring blankly at him for a moment. “What did you say?”

“The explosion. I thought it broke the machine, but as it turns out, it might actually have been a sign that it worked. And it is very likely that your son accidentally turned it on”, Dr. Lilja said, still hiding behind his hands.

Bishop looked from the cowering scientist to his son, who stood nervously and fiddled with the blue straps on the pillows bandana. Maybe he should buy him another one soon. They seemed to calm him down and keep him out of trouble. At least it seemed so.

“The machine worked?”, Bishop asked, his voice hiding something that Lilja couldn’t put his finger on. “The machine created a portal to another dimension?”

“It seems so, yes”, Dr. Lilja said. “That’s why there was a momentary thinning of the air and atmosphere. Lessen the density of the universe, and it will be easier to force a short connection with another”.

“How long was the portal open?”, Bishop asked, a sudden stern urgency in his voice. One that neither Dr. Lilja or the boy was used to.

“Not long”, Lilja said, taking a quick look at the numbers on his screen. “Nothing more than four seconds”.

Bishop’s expression tightened. ”Has anything been able to get through it?”

Dr. Jilja’s face paled at Agent Bishop’s words, at the realization. He had no idea. He had no idea of if anything had gotten through, nor did he know where the portal had led to, let alone he had no idea where in this world the portal may had opened. And with that realization, Lilja turned back towards his computer, tapping away on the keys in a haze, trying to find answers. Numbers rolled onto his screen, one after another, his eyes zigzagging across them, gaining as much information as possible. Agent Bishop leaned in, reading along as Dr. Lilja’s findings came up. And then it came up, leaving Lilja in a semi frozen state, with Agent Bishop waiting for him to explain what he was reading.

“There’s readings of unfamiliar matter, ever since the portal opening”, Dr. Lilja mumbled, staring in shock at the screen. How had he not noticed?

Agent Bishop looked at Dr. Lilja for a moment, taking in the words he had just muttered. It was by the look in Agent Bishop’s eyes, he realized what this all meant.

“My son turned on the machine”, Agent Bishop said, as if he thought out loud. “A portal was created, and something came through that portal”. Lilja felt himself sweat at the sound of Bishop’s words, fearing what would come next. “Yet it didn’t happen at our base. Where did it happen?”

Once again, Dr. Lilja found himself in shock and disbelief at Agent Bishop’s words. How could he not have thought of these things before now?

“I- I have no idea”, Dr. Lilja stammered, shaking slightly, knowing Agent Bishop wouldn’t like those words.

“Then figure it out”, Agent Bishop said sternly, a slight sneer in his voice. “Or else you wouldn’t be the only one in trouble soon”.

Bishop stood up straight from Lilja’s screen, before making his way back towards his stunned son, who was still processing the conversation that had just taken place. He had opened a portal into another world, unleashing something unknown into this world. The revelation made the boy's stomach turn in an uncomfortable way. And as his father put a soft hand on his head, before guiding him away from the lab. The boy hugged his Leonardo pillow tighter against him, not daring to look up at his father as he spoke. He hoped that Dr. Lilja would figure something out. Never would he want something bad to happen to his best friend, just because he did something stupid.

[grossdesire]

♡ 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐲 & 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐯𝐚𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 * @searaphic

" but in his flesh he speaks to me / and i in my flesh understand him. " - delmira agustini

[liaswills]

Pick a card: Does your crush like you back?

Today we are asking 4 seperate energies what they think of you! It's important to know that any pick a card's are general energies and some messages are resonant to your crush and others might just be for other people. Generally this is my first pick a card on Tumblr but I've been in the tarot community for longer than today, since 2017 I read tarot.

Disclaimer: I haven't used any tarot cards for this reading, ironically. I'm channelling the messages instead.

Take a moment, I understand crushes on anyone can be mind whirling and obsessive at times. But well I'm here to feed your obsession, aren't I? I will take the opportunity to channel their messages so every reply is written in the voice of your crush (general) and I'll give all four groups some extra information too!

Pick one of these four sentences from my favourite tommy shelby quotes!

1. "Why not?" — Thomas Shelby

2. "Do I look like a man who wants a simple life?" — Thomas Shelby

3. “We used to come here; she’d wait for hours for me when I couldn’t make it. And I’d wait for her if her family kept her in.” — Thomas Shelby

4. “A man needs to prove he is better than me, rather than show me his birth certificate.” — Thomas Shelby

All readings are channelled letters from your crush s/o. Hope you enjoy these and follow my account for more tarot posts!

Pile 1: "Why not?"

First of all this is a person that thinks softly of you. They have kind eyes, might be more of an effeminate person. May have a beard, or look like a gentle giant. I'm also getting blonde/brown hair or shoulder length blonde hair. They have dazzling eyes.

My darling,

I have never called you that before. But why not, eh? Or maybe I do enjoy calling you that in my mind. You are like a fond thought my mind wanders to when I am sitting in the train or my car. Or when I walk or am riding my bike. I think of you softly. I'm secretly afraid, that whilst I think of you softly, you don't think of me that way. I might just be a hopeless fool thinking you'd be interested in myself. Or perhaps I am not a fool?

I kind of want to do fun things together. Take it slow. There are some people I think of. Some other people that might be interesting to me as well. I know you didn't expect to hear that but I'm sometimes too stuck in my daydreams that I wished I was anyone's person. I just want to think of love. I like to imagine my closest friends think me an idiot everytime I say I met someone because how could they not? I sort of just 'love' being in love, right there, in my head.

Telling you how I feel makes me question whether it's worth it. Should I take that step to ask you how you're doing? To ask you whether you'd like to walk with me? Get an icecream? I don't know how to date to be honest. I read often, I just thought that thinking of you in my mind would be easier than thinking of you and I actually going someplace to do fun things together.

I specically like your legs, your smile, your hair. I think you look like my dream person. I may not smile in person, or I may not say these things in person, or I may not even let you know how HOT I think you are but you really are my type. I just don't know whether you'd think of me as 'your' type.

Sometimes I fantasize too much. I think it all out. Us, together, marriage, maybe even normal things like grocery shopping together or finding out what kind of candy you eat or don't eat. I kind of want to know how you live your life. I really admire how you come off to me as a person and I just think that we could 'be' something. If only my mind wasn't so easy to wander to other scenario's and people and friends who could possibly become my person too.

If you like me, just tell me. Right now. I beg of you. It would make my day. It would be recipocrated, I already have chosen you in my heart but I can't keep my mind collected. I can't stop thinking about work or about how busy I actually am when in truth, I just want to get to know you better.

Don't be sad. I don't want you to be sad. Was I an asshole? I never meant to be one. Trust me.

Do you trust me?

Yours Forever,

Your hopeless romantic

Pile 2: "Do I look like a man who wants a simple life?"

This is someone who has dark features. Might have brown hair. They come off as someone who has dazzling green/hazel or brown eyes. They are HANDSOME. You think of them in a handsome light. Their dress style might enchant you daily. Everytime you receive pictures of them or see them you might just think highly of their aesthetic. They're giving stronger masculine vibes or someone who has a dominant personality.

Babes,

Look I never meant to fall for you. I think my guides never saw 'me' falling for you. But I did. I was thrown into this abyss of feelings that I had long forgotten or long thought I could not feel anymore. I keep being disappointed in life but you have never disappointed me. I like that. I like that about you.

You and I talk or we don't. It's like that. I know it is. Because I keep you far away from me when I need time to make a decision. When I need to fix my shit. When I need to fix my issues. I have many of them. I don't need an angel like you to come into that mess. I don't want you to see a mess or see me as a mess. I need you to understand that I'm getting better. Really, I am. I thought I told you that, before, didn't I?

My life can never be just us. It's everything. It's mostly my family, my job, my friends. It's everything. I am always at the center of it and sometimes that makes me anxious. My friends drag me into shit you may not like. I might hurt your ideas about me when I do stuff like that, or I might be repugnant but it's just who I am, all right?

I can't be with someone who will hold me back. I am not saying you do this, but I hope that you will understand I don't really know how to be in a relationship that isn't going to end in destruction so I will put this lightly: don't give me the steer. I need you to say what you need to say and be as expressive as possible to keep me there with you. Maybe I like you, maybe I don't, I don't even know this myself.

See my guides want me to stop questioning my life. They want me to stop being such a fuck, maybe I do too. When I talk to you or when I think of you, I think of what of a redemption arc that would be for me? I know that sounds weird, but I think of how I could do 'right' by you.

So, technically, no, I don't want you to crush on me because I would not deserve you. But I also want you to be with me because I want to have you. Does that make me an asshole? I suppose it does.

Look, I know how to get you on your knees. I know how to kiss you, I'm experienced, I know. I know where to push your button, what to flirt, what to say, I do this naturally. It's like god gave me one gift and it's flirting without actually intending to flirt.

I get in a lot of trouble for that.

Like you for instance. You're my trouble. You're my death. You are the one person I can't get off my mind and it bothers me because I can't come forward to you and give you this sorry excuse of a person that I am right now. I really can't. Will you forgive me for not saying anything? If you ask me about my feelings, my love, I will most likely just ignore it or just be rude. I know, I can't have you.

You do NOT deserve me. I'm so sorry. I don't want you to want me, yet I do. Yet I thrive on it. Yet I am so sick that I would get off on it. I want you to want me, it's a game, alright? It's a game. I thrive on the thrill. I thrive on chasing. I thrive on flirting. This is a mad world and you're making it worse.

If you'd give me a chance, if by some miracle you'd be able to tame the fucktard that I am, would you be able to put up with my non-commital energy? Would you? See, you don't want this. I know you do.

My guides don't want this for you.

I'm sorry,

Your idiot.

Pile 3: “We used to come here; she’d wait for hours for me when I couldn’t make it. And I’d wait for her if her family kept her in.”

Your person is very feminine. I see someone who is shy, gives off introverted vibes or might just be a person who doesn't express what's going on with them all the time. They have a hard time texting others first, they might wait on texts instead. I feel like they are someone who thinks fondly of you.

Mr/Mrs *insert your name*,

I didn't know it could feel like this. Ha, who would've thought that, ME of all people would like you like some childish crush, though, the child in me still dreams of my shining knight. Are you that person? My shining hero, you might think I read too much fantasy novels or that I'm too obsessed with that one band, haha, I know, I am. I may talk too much about my one interest because It's all I think of. It's where I want to be, want to dream of, it's where my mind wanders and what keeps me occupied. I know you're not like that, or maybe you are, but you don't show it that easily.

I do like you. There, I said it. I want to be polite. I want to court you properly, when I do gather the courage to actually do that. I feel like somehow you might be the one person for me. Therefore, I find you irresistable. Because of that connection between us. We might already be friends, or well, we hang around one another, but I think you and I could be something more.

It had to be you. It just had to be you. That's what Barbra Streisand sings in the song "It had to be you" with Michael Bublé. I am on a cloud. Because I dream too much, I might seem like I am zoning out at times. That's what you do to me. You make me zone out and dream of many things. Sometimes my mind wanders back to those idols though, haha, or my favourite celebrities or games or book characters. But it mostly is you.

I would like to tell you how you inspire me. I am not an artistic person, but if I was, I would draw you. I would paint you. I would want to paint your soul. Does that sound too weird? Probably. See, when I think of you, I think of how you would be the most perfect thing to be laying beside me. To be holding hands with as we walk through an autumn world forest, to get a hot drink with in the cold winter, to meet up with for lunch or dinner. I think of you kindly, admiring and I hope you don't think I'm coming off too strongly on you because yes, I recipocrate this crush you have on me.

Even if you're not sure if you crush on me, I would not mind. Technically, I'm yours. I want to be yours. I might not be too responsible sometimes, I might not take the lead in things but I promise you that I can do that if you allowed me the time to adjust to you, to being around you, and not just you in my head.

I could ramble on and on about you in my head. I don't have many friends and the people I talk to I do mention you. Sometimes when I see something that reminds me of you, like something I see in a store window and I am like, you would like that shit, I'm almost tempted to buy it as a gift. I like gift giving. But I am bad with receiving it. I would really like if we could give each other book or song recommendations, maybe exchange poems. I secretly would give you a poem that explains my feelings for you, not going to lie about that.

Yeah, that's what it is. I sometimes feel like I have no appetite. I don't want to eat when I think of you. I can't get my head straight some days. And then I just focus only on stories. Books. My interests. I would like to get to know your interests too. Sometimes I worry that I am not good enough for you. Or that you would not want me. It keeps me silent. Truly.

It's stupid, I know. I might not come from a good background. My family life was not something that brought me joy and that kept me in my books and my internal world. Or it was my school but I hope that you might want to be my family.

Or is that too much? I'll convince you of how great that would be. :)

Yours truly,

*insert their name*

Pile 4: “A man needs to prove he is better than me, rather than show me his birth certificate.”

This is a soft masculine energy. He comes off hard on the outside. I am getting a definite 'he' but it could also be someone that is considered a butch energy, has macho energy or a person with very masculine energy. Technically it doesn't matter but this person has a message for you and it's coming. :) They're a bit mysterious.

My Destiny.

You feel like my destiny. You know I am a religious person, I think a certain way about life that might be philosophical, it might be faith, it just is my faith. I want you to know that when you're not around, I think of you as special. The song, I am a Creep, by radiohead, you like that one don't you?

Why do I have the feeling that you're after the bad guy. That you're after someone who looks dangerous, could be dangerous and that I would be that person for you. Why do you give me those eyes? That stare? That smirk? You're playing coy but I know that you fantasize about me like I am some devil in the sheets.

I really am not. *Snort*. Truly, you'll think of me less than that. Sometimes I worry that you think of me in a way where you're making this up. About me, information just gets distorted or you make something up in your mind that doesn't truly fit my personality. I would say that I don't mind you doing this, I think it's kind off cute. I think you're cute.

Some days, I wonder what you're doing. Only some days. Like those moments when it's night, you're sitting on the couch or in the tub and I am contemplating what to do now that my phone died (I might just be addicted to my phone) and I think of you in those moments of disconnect. I can watch the moon or I can look up at the nightsky and wonder if you're my person.

I like witches. Eh, did I say that? Yep. You're like a witch to me. Not in a bad way, more like in the way that "I know my girlfirend is a witch" vibe. You are mysterious to me. Something about you that I can't pinpoint my finger on. Something mysterious. It draws me in, but at the same time I don't want to be drawn in by you.

It's a push and pull with my feelings of my heart and my body and my mind. It's like this, I don't think you fit in my ordinairy life. You should do something with someone that fits your life. We might just be dating other people or you might feel unavailable emotionally to me, which is something I can't help but only you can, truly.

Still... I do think of you softly. In the quiet moments. My mind lingers on you. You're my favourite happy place where my thoughts can wander to. My favourite thing to relax, I don't know maybe your body is too. You know how I would love to relax with you, sweaty, together and being intimate in a way that makes you blush if I would ever talk about it nonchalantly in public day light.

I'd like to take you to a restaurant. You'd like that, huh? I know, I am smug when I think I know something about you but truly, i'm just a clueless fool wanting your attention when all but nothing you're just this goddess that could ruin me if you tried.

You don't even have to try, truly. I'm already broken, that's my secret.

I don't fear breaking my heart. So, if you do want to chase this? Chase me, darling.

I am ready.

But, let me say one more thing before I end this message. That dress, those trousers, that favourite clothing item you own, the one that looks comfortable, but isn't? Ehm, yeah, I have thought about you in that exact piece and eh- shamefully have fantasies about you wearing that fucking thing. Sorry, I get carried away when it's you, I really do.

You didn't expect this, did you? I know you think me the person you'd think is your type but you might need to re-arrange your expectations about me. I will disappoint you, I know that I will, I can't do nothing right in my life, why would I do right by you?

I sound like I hate myself. Perhaps I do.

Will you love me then, honey?

You know who I am.

Thankyou for reading this pick a card! I hope the message resonates and that you're able to enjoy this little crush reveal or did not enjoy this crush disappointment. The energies were very different and some messages aren't entirely the same but take whatever resonates, not what doesn't, if your gut feeling says those words weren't from your crush or s/o then they're not.

All the love, elias.

[necrotic-nephilim]

"I don't care how much you hate me - you need to eat!"

DickTim during Bruce's Lost In Time phase but with Dick stopping Tim from leaving💕

send a quote and a ship and I'll write a short fic!

fucked up DickTim during Bruce's lost in time era my beloved. this is 2k of *very* dead dove DickTim, with one-sided feelings from Dick and unreliable narrator vibes. it is a smidge OOC, just bc of how dark Dick gets, but i think i kept it best i could. enjoy <3

It wasn’t supposed to go this far.

Dick thought he was doing this to honor Bruce. The last thing Bruce would’ve wanted was to see Tim drive himself over the edge and go too far, all for a fruitless chase to bring Bruce back from the dead. And sure, maybe deep down Dick knew he reflected some of Bruce’s worst traits. The obsessive control. The worrying to the point of being overbearing.

It came with the capes and spandex territory. Especially now that Dick had decided to man up and put on that damned cowl.

But even at Bruce’s worst, Dick was pretty sure he wouldn’t dare go this far.

Dick knew it was wrong. What he didn’t know was why he couldn’t stop himself. Why the gnawing guilt was so easy to compartmentalize and why every good point Tim had got ignored by Dick’s logical side, brushed off by one simple mantra.

He was doing this for Tim’s own good.

All of this was to protect Tim from doing something he would regret.

Dick had done brain scans, had Tim magically checked up, and even managed to get him to properly talk to a psychiatrist. Everything came back normal. Tim was perfectly healthy.

So maybe this was something that had always been a part of Tim. Maybe it was a bad idea for any of them to have let Tim into the vigilante world so young.

Some people could handle it. Some people couldn’t. Dick had seen firsthand how it broke minds and ruined lives. He’d seen people turn to drugs, cults, murder, and god knew what else just to try to cope with it.

That didn’t make Tim weak. Tim Drake was the furthest thing from weak, and Dick would fight anyone on that.

This was just a hard life to cope with. Sometimes, people needed support through the worst of it.

That’s what Dick was doing.

Giving support.

“I don’t care how much you hate me- you need to eat!” Dick stepped back, dodging Tim’s attempt to kick his feet out. The bowl of salad Dick had set next to Tim was completely ignored.

Dick had learned not to give Tim hot food after Tim flung potato soup at his head the first time, chunks of potato stuck to his hair.

Tim’s scowl was lethal. Technically, he wasn’t restrained. He could move freely around the manor and do whatever he wanted.

It was the shock collar that kept him from leaving the grounds or breaking into the Batcave.

Dick had decided that would be the most humane way. The shock was only momentarily painful, it was designed to knock Tim unconscious if he tried to get somewhere he wasn’t supposed to. The collar had taken three tries before Dick found a lock Tim couldn’t pick, and a few more unfortunate incidents of Tim finding weak spots in the barrier.

But Dick always found Tim and brought him back home.

That was what was important.

The fact Tim kept trying to break out and go to god knew where on some fruitless quest to find a dead man made Dick more secure about this decision.

He was doing this to protect Tim. Once Tim worked through the worst of his grief, all this would be in the past. Something they would laugh at.

Hopefully.

It was like one of Tim’s contingency plans. Really, he of all people should understand.

But he didn’t. Which was what hurt Dick the most, the angry look in Tim’s eyes and the way his fists clenched when Dick came into Tim’s room. Tim had access to the whole manor, but he stuck mostly to his room, refusing to talk to anyone.

Especially Dick.

And now, it seemed, his latest tactic was a hunger strike.

“I’ll let you look over the burglary case we’re working on,” Dick offered. “I’ll bring you all the files and your computer if you just…” he gestured to the salad, “eat something.”

That had worked, in the beginning. Dick could coax good behavior out of Tim by offering to let Tim help with whatever case Dick was facing. It took a load off of Dick’s back and gave Tim something to focus on.

Of course, Dick couldn’t leave Tim’s computer with him. The first time Dick did that, Tim managed to break all of the firewalls and safeties put on it to start a case file about Bruce. Dick had to delete everything and only allow Tim monitored access from that point on.

After that, Tim really didn’t like Dick.

“Can’t you just go back to ignoring me?” Tim snapped. He sounded… resigned. Emotionless in a way he hadn’t been, like all the fight he’d been putting up for weeks was finally going out.

“Ignoring you?” Dick frowned. He felt like he’d been punched in the gut at the words. He kept a wide berth from Tim, wary of more punches being thrown, and decided to sit at Tim’s desk chair, a good few feet from where Tim was on his bed. “What makes you think I’m ignoring you?”

Tim scoffed and rolled his eyes. “You only talk to me to ask if I’ve dropped the Bruce thing yet, or to try to force self-care on me. The rest of the time you ignore me so you don’t have to face your own guilt.”

Dick violently shook his head. “That’s not-” he sighed, running a hand over his face- “I’m just busy, I promise. Between being Batman, managing Bruce’s estate, and trying to handle Damian, I just…” his voice trailed off. So many things to balance. He still didn’t know how Bruce managed it all. “I haven’t made enough time for you. I’m sorry.”

He decided to take on the burden of helping Tim. It was his responsibility and Tim was right, Dick was doing a piss poor job of taking care of him.

No wonder he pushed away Dick’s attempts to reconcile. It must’ve come across as half-assed, in Tim’s eyes.

Dick wished Bruce was here. He would’ve known the right way to handle this.

“Don’t start now,” Tim said icily. He picked up a book from his nightstand and opened it, pointedly not looking at Dick anymore. “Just leave me alone.”

“Will you eat first?” Dick asked. “If you just eat, I’ll go. I promise.”

With a loud sigh, Tim snapped his book shut. He picked up the salad Dick brought and shoveled down mouthfuls, all while glaring at Dick. Once the bowl was empty he set it back down and spread his hands, waiting.

Dick didn’t leave.

He wasn’t going to abandon Tim.

Dick stood up and Tim relaxed for just a moment before he realized Dick was walking toward Tim’s bed instead of the door. Slowly, like he was approaching a wild animal, Dick crept forward. He chose to sit on the foot of the bed, still far enough away from Tim to give him personal space.

“Tim-”

“Out. Now. You promised.”

Dick ran his fingers through his hair. “I know, but-”

“What do you want from me?” Tim almost yelled the words. “Do you want me to just say I don’t believe Bruce is alive? Will you finally leave me alone, then?”

“Can you say it under a truth serum?”

Tim went quiet, grinding his jaw.

“I want you to get better,” Dick sighed.

“What happens when I get better, then?” Tim challenged. He moved to sit cross-legged on the bed. So close to Dick that Dick could reach out and touch him, but emotionally, they were miles apart and it hurt Dick’s chest. “You ‘fix me’-” he put finger quotes around the words- “to your liking, then set me free?”

“Don’t talk about yourself like you’re an animal.” Dick frowned, fist clenching at the idea Tim thought of himself that way.

Tim just stared at him. “Then don’t treat me like one.” He raised a hand and tapped the collar.

It looked like it had new scratch marks on it.

“That’s not what I’m doing,” Dick said. He tried to find the words. It was so hard to explain it when Tim wasn’t listening to him. He wasn’t even given a chance. Dick tried to reach out. For once, Tim didn’t pull away. He was completely rigid under Dick’s touch, though. His hand rested on Tim’s arm, thumb stroking back and forth. “You know I’m doing this because… because I’m worried about you. And I care, Tim.”

“No you don’t,” Tim leaned away from Dick, but didn’t pull his arm free. “Whatever version of me exists in your head-”

“Tim-”

“-isn’t real,” Tim ignored him and kept going. “You won’t even listen to my theory-”

“Tim!” Dick tightened his grip, ignoring the small wince of pain that came out of Tim. “I’m not entertaining that kind of talk.” He tried to be firm but loving with his tone. But even Dick could hear the anger and frustration that was bleeding off of him. “This is practically self harm.”

“I know I’m right,” Tim mumbled. He wouldn’t look at Dick. “Will you just leave, now?”

Against his better judgment, Dick stood up. He had to patrol soon. “I’m sorry. We’ll talk after-”

“I’m going to sleep,” Tim snapped. “No, we won’t.”

Dick tried to throw his hands up in frustration, but he was still holding onto Tim’s arm.

He didn’t want to let go.

He knew Tim was waiting for him to let go, but Dick couldn’t force his fingers to release. He just stared for a moment, breathing hard.

Dick was doing this out of love.

And now, he loved Tim too much to want to let go of him.

Did he have to patrol tonight? He was pretty sure the Birds of Prey were in Gotham.

“Dick,” Tim said carefully, starting to scoot away from him. The apprehension in his voice was unsteady, eyes narrowed. He was always too on edge. “I’m tired. Just go on patrol.”

Instead of letting go, Dick lifted his other hand and held Tim’s face. Tim flinched but stopped inching away. He was completely still, barely even breathing.

He looked afraid of Dick.

Dick’s chest clenched. He wished he could get Tim to understand. Dick leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Tim’s forehead.

He wanted to kiss somewhere else, somewhere a few inches lower and just as unobtainable. That was a feeling Dick buried deep, deep inside of him.

It wasn’t why he was doing this.

A hand pressed against Dick’s chest. Trying to push Dick away, but for just a moment, the pressure and warmth almost made Dick shudder. Tim hadn’t properly trained in a while.

He wasn’t actually strong enough to push Dick off of him. If Dick wanted to, Tim couldn’t have stopped him.

But their relationship was already fractured. It would take a long time of repairing and letting Tim heal before Dick could even try pursuing those feelings.

Tim had once had a childhood crush on Dick, though. So he was pretty sure they could work their way up to it, be something more.

Dick pulled away. He let go of Tim’s arm and allowed himself one stroke of Tim’s hair. It was getting a little long, brushing against Tim’s shoulders.

The entire time, Tim remained perfectly still. But his eyes got wider and wider, the way they always did when he had just figured out a case.

Dick was getting too close. He needed to pull back.

“You still have the spare comm link?” Dick asked.

Tim didn’t answer. He just kept staring with those wide, searching eyes. He looked a little pale. Dick should get him some iron supplements, Tim becoming anemic is the last thing Dick wanted.

“Use it if you need me for anything,” Dick continued. He gave Tim what he hoped was a calming smile. “Get some sleep, Tim. I love you.”

He turned and walked out of Tim’s room. Slowed to crawl at a snail’s pace, hoping for an answer from Tim. He would take any kind of answer.

But Tim kept silent, even as Dick took his time intentionally, slowly closing the door. Dick just sighed, turning down the hall to head down to the Batcave.

Someday, he’d get through to Tim. Dick would find a way.

Someday soon.

[justwonder113]

I love your writing sm 🫠🫠

could you write something fluffy and suggestive for han were you sit on his lap in his studio chair and you can’t stop kissing him and you’re distracting him from his work and he finds it so cute that you’re like this x

Oh my god thank you so much sweetheart! You don't know how much it means to me that you like my writing. I'm really sorry for taking so long to write, even though I absolutely LOVED the idea!!! I had one the meltdowns and uni has been an absolute nightmare so sorry. I really hope this was what you wanted and I hope you will like it. I will try to update stories more and more. Thankfully I will have more time^^

My masterlist

If you have any requests feel free to ask(though it might take me some time)

Warnings: Kind of suggestive, Bold reader, Cute whiney Jisung but he does complete 180 in the end. Jisung calls reader a brat

Word count -1.6k

23:33

You woke up from your sweet slumber by soft clicking of the keyboard. You didn't even realize when you started to dose off. All the work must have caught up to you. The week you had sure was hectic.

You looked at your boyfriend's hunched figure, he was deeply immersed in his work, he hadn't even noticed that you were awake. You felt sad, you barely saw each other. Your schedule was swarmed and he had comeback coming real soon. You tried to text and call but sometimes he was just so swarmed with work he responded hours later. He was really apologetic, he really tired his best. He texted you whenever he could, he sent gifts for you, sometimes flowers, sometimes food, when he knew your schedule was extra hectic. He also left you little notes around the house and, lets just say, randomly finding them was highlight of your day. Sometimes they were sweet messages, sometimes random quotes, sometimes silly little jokes and doodles. You loved every one of them and kept them in a little box in your room. You also tried to be just as supportive, this is why you were here in his studio, you came earlier with food and snacks for him and the boys. Jisung had barely texted you the whole day, so you knew he was extra busy, also you got suspicious that he wouldn't eat anything, he always got so involved with his work he sometimes forgot to even eat.

You were not wrong. Jisung shyly admitted to you that he, in fact, skipped a meal when you asked if he ate anything. Good for him that he was so cute and adorable you never had the ability to stay mad at him. He got so happy when he saw you that he almost knocked you down. He really was so adrable. The boys also thanked you, and you ate together, talking about what you were up to.

You talked for a while but one by one they left to do their own stuff leaving you with Jisung. Honestly, you were glad to be left alone with him, you've missed him too much. You talked with hushed voice, not once he let go of you, he was hugging you like a koala and showered your face with kisses. You couldn't help but giggle at his cute antics. After a while he excused himself and asked you to wait a little bit as he finished his song, promising to quickly wrap it up and go home together. But here you were now, still stuck in the studio.

You scanned around to find your phone to check the time, Jisung must have noticed you had fallen asleep and draped his jacket to keep you warm . He really was cute but you really wanted to scold him. He already worked inhuman hours he really was straining his body!

Your eyes almost popped out of your eyes when you noticed that it was basically midnight. Oh he really was done for now!

You got up, groaning from pain, your muscles were sore from laying on this uncomfortable sofa. After stretching a little you approached him, he was so immersed he didn't even notice you. You couldn't help but scoff when you carefully examined his face. His eyes were so red from looking at this damn screen all day. Apart from bloodshot eyes, he had dark eyebags, he looked a paler and you didn't know if you were exaggerating or not but he also looked a bit thinner. Also there was no way his body wouldn't ache from sitting like that, especially after dancing and practicing for ungodly amounts of time.

You carefully threaded your fingers through his hair and leaned down to kiss his cheek. He did jump a little not expecting your touch but he quickly relaxed and leaned into it. He opened his arms and looked at you with wide eyes expecting you to get into his lap and hug him. Sadly, it also meant that he still wasn't done. You sighed yet again, there was no way you could win this one. You complied and sat in his lap. Jisung immediately wrapped his arm around you and brought you closer to him so that you were chest to chest with no room between you, he quickly pecked your cheek and went back to working.

You tried your best to sit still and let him work so that you could go home as soon as possible, but you were also getting really bored.

After a minute or two an idea popped into your head. You shuffled a bit and hid your face into the crook of his neck, the smell of his perfume immediately soothing your senses. You put your right hand on his chest and wrapped the other around his shoulders. You waited for a second so that Jisung would think you were just getting comfortable, if he even noticed you moving around that is... The truth was that Han Jisung was really ticklish and his neck was especially sensitive. Whenever you decided to kiss his neck he would always reel back giggling and pouting at you cutely. He would always try and run away from you whenever he sensed that you were about to attack his neck. But where would he go now? You were in his lap, there was no way he could run.

You somewhat felt bad, he was always so sweet and gentle to you and no matter how ticklish he was he always let you snuggle up to his neck knowing that you loved it. Should you betray his trust like this?

He did notice you shuffling around, he tensed up for a second when your nose brushed against his sensitive skin but he quickly relaxed. You grinned it was your time to shine!

Carefully not to alert him you brushed your lips against his neck. The response was immediate, his hold around your waist immediately tightened. Oh you were going to get a reaction out of him one way or another. You kissed him again but with more passion now and quickly pecked him few more times. Jisung glanced at you but he didn't say anything. Oh he was on!

You continued your assault on his reddening skin and pecked every part of his skin you could reach one arm around his shoulders while the other had slid through his neck and into his hair playing with the silky soft stands on his nape, oaccasionaly pulling them drawing soft quiet groans from the boy. He whined out your name so prettily! And let's just say you absolutely adored his "little" reactions. He was set on staying as still as he could and act as if this whole thing didn't affect him at all but you could see right through him. "Babyy." He whined out but you didn't stop. His skin was all flushed in a beautiful shade of red, his breathing had become more rugged and shalllow. His left hand held onto your hip for dear life and brought you as close to him as it possibly could as if you would dissappear if he let go. God you loved this boy! You kissed him more and let's just say you hoped his jacket had a high collar because you had left really pretty marks onto his skin. You would gladly show it to the world but you were not sure how his fans would react if anyone were to see you and share photos. And you knew many stays had hawklike vision.

You didn't even consider to stop your attack, Jisung hadn't even done anything to stop you so, you let yourself go. It was only when you moved a little and started kissing his jaw and in the haze let your teeth graze against his skin that he held you tightly and pulled you off.

You looked at him with confused eyes, his face unreadable. Did you upset him? Was he mad? You were about to apologize when he sighed out something and leaned in to smash his lips against yours, knocking the breath out of your lungs. Both of his hands were around your waist now, pulling you impossibly close, as if he wanted to devour you, wanted to be one with you, and who were you to deny him anything? You tried your best to keep up with him and return the kiss with the same burning passion but honestly you couldn't keep up. You didn't know what came up to him but you loved it. You felt like melting, like you really thought you could turn into a puddle, you felt ignited, you felt alive. There was no thought in your head other than that you loved this boy. Your lungs were burning but you weren't even considering to lean back for air. You were just consumed with Han Jisung.

It was Han who broke the kiss and leaned back to let you breathe. Both of you struggled to breathe normally, as if you had forgotten how to do so. You wanted to say something but were at loss for words, it was Han who broke the silence. He flicked your forehead and pouted at you. "You're a real brat do you know that?" You couldn't help but giggle. You swore this boy had some type of switch into his head. He almost made you melt into a puddle by giving you the best kiss of your life and now he was pouting at you all cutely like he did nothing wrong. God you loved him!

You grinned at him, "Does this mean we're going home?"

Han rolled his eyes and softly pinched your side. "Brat."

Yup, you had won.

[batsplat]

you might have already talked abt this but I’m interested if you have any thoughts on the similarities & differences in Casey & Valentino’s early childhoods and families……I don’t know much abt Casey’s upbringing & the little I know about Valentino’s all makes me go “huh ok I kinda get it now” lol. Idk like I found out Jorge’s whole deal w his dad and I was like “OH OK you make perfect sense to me now” but I’m not there yet w the other two, yk?

so okay,, I do have an ask from forever back about marc and valentino's childhoods that I got extremely stuck at answering, and also an ask about jorge's father that I haven't even touched because like. sometimes you just do not feel up for that lol. and well it's just an area where I do generally try and be quite careful in how I discuss it... BUT this is casey stoner hot take round™ so I will give a reasonably succinct answer to this and not overthink it too much. basically: yeah, I do have thoughts, because casey's childhood does undeniably do a lot of the work in the 'oh okay that makes sense now' department. a lot of his career narrative, his struggles, his disillusionment with the sport... and yes, the way the valentino rivalry unfolded - a lot of it can be traced back quite a long way, to grievances he's been carrying around with him for years and years. I talked in this post about that podcast interview casey did this year, which included... well, a bit of a reckoning. talking as openly as he ever has about how being a rider wasn't ever really his dream - it's something that was decided for him. and that's our starting point... casey's eternally ambivalent relationship with being a rider, one that feels so violently different from valentino's

the big, big contrast between casey and valentino's respective journeys is pretty simple to sum up: it's the joy. valentino was having fun. casey wasn't. now, look - valentino as a child very obviously did not have perfect autonomy in making the choice to be a rider. it's always going to be more complicated than that; his father did obviously push him in that direction. but at the end of the day, it's not too controversial to say that valentino always enjoyed riding and always had fun racing. it's a joy he carried with him on his way to becoming a rider, one that remained a part of his competitive dna throughout his professional career. it's a joy that kept him racing for as long as he did. a childlike joy, in a way - valentino's lack of 'adult' seriousness, how it's been remarked upon that this brutal sport has never quite managed to wear him down. his peter pan persona, how he's the boy who won't ever grow up. and, y'know... valentino had the chance to actually be a kid. he got to have something vaguely resembling a proper childhood. makes sense, right - if you want to be a kid forever, it helps to have been one in the first place

there's a quote of his from 2009 I posted recently:

which, in the context of that interview - this question refers back to an earlier exchange about how casey wasn't a 'romantic' rider (still think that's an objectively pretty funny thing to say about your rival but that's neither here nor there). and, well, valentino's correct! sports has become considerably more professionalised over time. children are less and less likely to be able to afford any sort of life outside of it. which isn't just about reducing passion, right - it's also about not really giving these kids the chance to properly grow up, to become more rounded human beings who don't have to be the perfect little athlete 100% of the time. it's also a correct diagnosis of casey specifically, who certainly could never afford to see racing as a game. I'd recommend reading this autobiography excerpt, where casey tells you exactly that: racing wasn't about having fun for casey. he'd moved to the uk with his parents at fourteen years of age, at which point he essentially became his family's sole provider. his family depended on him not failing - and every opportunity threatened to be his last, his racing future and financial situation always desperately precarious. he was constantly fearful all of his family's sacrifices might have been for nothing. it's immense pressure to put any teenager under, regardless of how much you want to convince them that it's their dream rather than your own. if casey wasn't already an overly self-critical perfectionist before those years, he certainly was by the time he made it to motogp. he couldn't afford to be anything less than perfect. remember: the shape his anxiety took was by making him curl up in his motorhome, terrified of letting everyone down. wonder where that came from

is it any surprise, then, that while valentino feels like kids today take racing too seriously, casey thinks they don't take it seriously enough?

The system has changed: when you put too much pressure on a 20-year-old, he can react by closing up and becoming serious and sad. // Nowadays I see too many kids coming through behaving too relaxed, and too happy with what they have achieved already. I don’t want them to be miserable but they have to understand what’s at stake.

doesn't this make you want to scream. a little

and, look, there are similarities between valentino and casey in ways that will be true of many child prodigy athletes. valentino has spoken about how his father would not do anything with him that didn't involve motorcycle racing, casey likewise has more recently in that podcast said he doesn't think he was allowed to pursue any other interest. we can talk plenty about how the parents of athletes like to use their children to fulfil their own dreams - how their child's athletic performance seems to become the only aspect of their child they have any interest in. how so much of that parental relationship becomes distorted by the ceaseless quest to achieve results. it's there in both of their stories... and obviously they are hardly unique in that respect. there's perhaps a little bit of a divide - to what extent kids are aware of this dynamic and are uncomfortable with it, especially publicly. both casey and valentino are united in being somewhat openly critical of their parents without being completely estranged from them. casey got his parents to move back to australia when he was arguing with his father too frequently as a young rider; valentino has seemingly kept his father at a bit of a distance for years. they've never cut themselves off entirely - but there's a certain undeniable wariness there. a lack of conviction that their parents acted as parents should that they've been willing to hint at publicly, here and there

Our communication is mostly about motorbikes. He wasn't a good father, I mean... When I was with him, playing always meant riding motorbikes for him. // To be honest, I don’t know if I was allowed to have any other attraction to be honest. I think it was, you know, you’re going to be a bike rider from when I was a very very young age - and I’m not the only one to think that.

still, it does come back to the joy of it all. casey justifies his belief that racing isn't fun by talking about how he'd always known how high the stakes were... whereas for valentino, fun is an integral part of the experience. it's what he's there for. and beyond the racing itself, valentino always found his life as a rider considerably more joyous than casey did. which leads us to the other difference between the pair of them: casey's loneliness. valentino has spoken frequently about the importance of his childhood friend group, about having them travel with him and ground him and be there with him throughout - people who knew him before he became the valentino rossi, people he feels that he can fully rely on. he grew up as part of a community and has a strong sense of identification with not just his country but also his town... he's got deep ties to his place of origin and the people who live there, built up over a lot of time, and he draws a lot of strength from that. by contrast, casey grew up moving around a fair bit, unhappy at school and the victim of bullying - his only real friends, he says, were from the dirt track, since they were the only people he 'had anything in common with'. even those friendships don't feel particularly substantial, especially given how often he frames his childhood racing experiences around the hostility of his competitors (and especially their parents) in response to his peerless talent. his parents eventually home schooled him, inevitably further isolating him. then, as a teenager, he moved to the uk where he knew nobody, before moving to spain where he didn't even speak the language. he continued to have a strong sense of connection to australia, fuelled at least in part by homesickness - but it's also a connection to a country he hadn't lived in since age fourteen, a sense of belonging that's fundamentally less stable, less comforting. one that exists primarily in contrasting himself to all the europeans he surrounds with, as a way of making sense of his feelings of cultural alienation - which in truth are sometimes just plain alienation. the paddock cannot function as a home for casey either, and he is unwilling or unable to form substantial connections in that environment. in 2009, ten odd years after moving away from australia, he said his only friend in the paddock was his wife

and yes, it plays into that rivalry - inevitably so. casey and valentino are both somewhat alien to each other, fundamentally unknowable... and it does come back to how at odds they were in their approaches, in how they motivated themselves. casey finds the europeans and their flamboyant celebrations baffling. valentino cannot relate to casey's lack of romantic affection for the sport. casey is there to do a job. valentino is there to put on a show. casey does not think racing should be about having fun. valentino believe the fun is non-negotiable. casey loves almost nothing about being a rider, whereas valentino loves almost all of it

another thing. when I was writing this post about the similarities between casey and valentino, one aspect I talked about was how they can both be.... uh. suspicious characters, shall we say. paranoid, some might call them. conspiratorial, even. now, again, to some extent they do share this with a lot of other athletes, it's kind of part of the game. but, y'know, they do take it quite far - and there's quite a pleasing parallel between the pair of them where they've both come up with a conspiracy theory about one of valentino's lost titles. which leads us to quite a nice distinction between these two theories. not to brag, but I kinda feel I nailed one of the most important elements of their dynamic:

now, look. I deliberately did not do this,, but obviously if you really wanted to, you can do some pop psychology on valentino's approach to interpersonal attachment and relate that back to his relationship with his parents. I am not interested in doing that for various reasons, most of which the cia would not get out of me, but I'm aware it's an approach you can take. in any case, I do still think you can make quite a straightforward case for this distinction: one of them believes the world is fundamentally out to get them, one of them doesn't. one of them is waiting for the system to fuck them over, the other is wary of individuals who have gotten a little too close. both of them at times are exceedingly ready to read malice into the words and actions of those around them - and both of them can react rather dramatically to such a provocation. the shape their suspicion takes is a little bit different and a little bit the same... but it's central to understanding both of them, in a way that does set them apart from their competitors. they're the two aliens who are the most likely to read an agenda into anything and everything. they're the ones who are most likely to take note of slights, to accumulate grievances. the most likely to not forget when they have been wronged - and to take great pleasure in getting back at whoever has done them ill

in the end, it all comes back to just what an excellent foil for casey you have in valentino. in all the ways casey defines himself against valentino, in all the ways valentino challenges casey, in all the ways casey's issues with the sport are inextricably interwoven with the character of valentino rossi. casey hates so much of the sport in ways that are tied so closely to valentino; he hates a system that invariably would like nothing more than to see valentino succeed. but valentino also represents what casey cannot be - not just an entertainer, but someone completely at ease with their life as a rider. someone who finds joy in that life, who did not step away from it until he absolutely had to. valentino is there long before casey arrives and he is there long after casey leaves. valentino is an idol, an enemy, a mystery. more so than any other rider, valentino embodies an emotion that casey believed he simply could not afford to feel. valentino is the sport's joy - and casey was never there to have fun

[kazooreal]

i've been ranting a lot about shumika lately and wanted to flesh out some of my thoughts!! let me know whatchu think!

ShuMika's dynamic started with and relies on the concept of Shu being this guy on a pedestal, the picture of perfection, and Mika … roughly alongside him, but more at his feet. Etymology fact: Shuu 宗 , aka the kanji for Shu's name, means religion, and his surname has some sort of religious significance too. Like most of the other eccentrics, he was treated as and compared to as a god at the peak of his success in his idol career. And like most of the other eccentrics, the War forcibly pulled him down from the heavens that the Yumenosaki population had raised him to, for better or for worse. And he began to change, to develop from the standstill that his ideals had kept him at.

The thing is, Mika still idolises Shu, and despite how close the two are- and I'm not discrediting their closeness, they have a special understanding for each other- Shu is still at a height when Mika's around. This whole part of their dynamic can be summarised by this quote.

(tl: https://twilightmalachite.tumblr.com ,, thank you!)

I described it previously as 'so twisted, but deliciously so'.

And it's really cool and really interesting! But I think ShuMika can only work if there was change in this. If Shu stepped down from this pedestal that keeps getting mentioned. By him 'dirtying' himself, because that's what's necessary for him to really, truly love Mika. To know him as lovers know each other. It's more symbolic than what I just described, but it'd be super satisfying. Shu being tainted by the previously inferior Mika, being brought a little lower because of how much happier it'd make him.

However! This would be really difficult for someone like Shu, who is so stuck in his ideals and obsessed by beauty and eternity. Intimacy and trust, and being so open and honest to someone, is really unpredictable, so he'd obviously be hesitant. Another thing I wrote before: 'To get overly tangled in thread, to become indistinguishable from one's love, and woven together over and over again-- that is something very worthy of fear'. In a more literal sense, it'd be Shu dropping his poise and truly relaxing around Mika. Whatever that would look like, it would be pretty interesting. Seeing Shu in a vulnerable moment and just letting Mika take care of him.

[ginalongillustrations]

Vox Machina Details

I realized that now that I've completed all of Vox Machina, I wanted to show off the symbols I chose for each member and their designs as some of them I'm super proud of! If you're unsure what any of the symbols are meant to convey, just read blow the line.

Keyleth

(side note, I finished her original version at like ep 35 and had worked so hard to stay away from spoilers so I had no idea what most of the symbols meant and was struggling to think of things)

Kraken- I included it because the kraken fight will go down in my personal history as the fight that was the biggest... slog to get through. You felt the weariness of it as shit just kept repeating, and unfortunately half the table was slightly drunk making everything worse, and it was so pivotal because Vax died and that hastened his deal with the raven Queen and it was Keyleth completing her journey and it was Tary's first real adventure. It also was right after my Roman Empire Vaxleth quote so it had to have a place.

Goldfish -iconic

Acorn- so this is one that has nothing to do with her journey, but it's something I chose to symbolize what I love about her. I love her passion for life and her willingness to protect it. I chose it after she went against Grog during the Whitestone Arc and ran back to help the townsfolk fight the zombie giant. I loved it because she refused to let those people fight on their own to live, and it really stuck with me. Her unadulterated anger at the death of the fire ashari and so many other times she cares about life and I wanted to represent that, so much that I included it in her personal symbol at the top of the designs.

Fire - obvious reasons

Raven feather - gonna represent the love of her life

Snowdrop- yeah Vax got two but I'm so glad I did because that last episode had me sobbing just like Marisha and it's such a symbol of goodbye and love and stolen time

Vex

She is one of the most straightforward ones, another one that I had help on from the community because I didn't want spoilers but did want to encompass her entire journey and not just what I had seen.

Grizzly paw - for the best companion out there

Gold coins - Her greed is such a defining trait for so much of her journey to the point where it, in part, got her killed by wanting to steal the armour. It is her hating to spend 30 gold on a very useful book, it is so much of her and I love it.

Sun - Paelor, since she was chosen by him

Broom - As much as I wasn't a fan of the broom, it truly is such a big part of her, her fighting technique, and her personality again tied to her greed that I couldn't help but add it.

The gun and the dagger - for the two most important people in her life.

Pike

Her ship - It's cute how often she brought it up even when we never once see her at sea. I think Ashley really enjoyed that part of her backstory even asking about it in campaign 2.

Her holy symbol - Sarenrae is the God who has my heart simply for her kindness to Pike. Her warmth and love and how important that relationship is to Pike. More so than any other cleric, it feels like they get each other and I love that. I'm also sad Sarenrae hasn't been around much in the other campaigns. Someone give this God some love please (I'm on ep 46 of c3 so who knows)

The lute - even if they never go on a date during the campaign, that relationship is super important. It was the first relationship I shipped in VM and how often they look out for each other. I'll always be sad Ashley couldn't be there for ep 85

Grog's axe - adoptive siblings for life

Iris - since it's the flower of Westruun, I thought I should add also because Matt was able to pull that out of his ass when asked was incredible and needs to be remembered always.

Glabrezu claw - even if it's not a death we saw, that death echoed throughout the campaign and it affected Pike so much

Scanlan

Scanlan was harder. So many of his moments are intangible. How do you draw a counterspell? A wish? The hunt for drugs that are actually just cooking spices? the meat man? Modify memory? Scanlan will always be MVP of the VM campaign in my eyes, and so it was so hard to do him justice.

The three eyes of Ioun - No one expected Scanlan to be chosen but chosen he was and the world is better for it.

Triceratops - That fight was the first time Scanlan really showed he could hold his own. Hell, the rest of VM came out worse with 5 people than he did. It was the first time you saw how much of a beast Scanlan could be.

Pike's mace- the woman who made him better

The beret - I had just finished the briarwood Arc what I was working on him and I thought this the best representation of Sam willing to just roll with the stupidest running bits.

The Burt Reynolds mustache - His love of disguises and also one of his most iconic lines

The flute - representing his meeting Kaylie and how that changed so much of his journey.

Percy

I struggled with Percy and his symbols because I couldn't always grasp what was important and what drove him as tangible things outside his family, Revenge, and Vex. I also just have the most trouble connecting to Percy so I think that played a part.

The bird skull - I felt it showed his connect to others? As it passed through his hands it showed a care for others and I dunno, this one just stuck with me. So it's there.

Black powder -no way in hell I'm leaving Viktor out

De Rolo crest - His family and all that he lost

An arrow - his future, his shining north star, his better half

Black smoke - Orthax and how much control it had over him

Vampire teeth - a bit corny I know but had no idea how to represent the briarwoods so I rolled with this.

Vax

Snowdrop - the mirror Keyleth, and if you have the prints next to each other with Vax on the right and Keyleth on the left, the snowdrops mirror. They're the only two of the series to have that (can you tell who my favourite couple is?)

The raven Queen mask - she needed her own spot because she is.. the looming shadow over so much of Vax, his choices, and his story. She is unrelenting, she is ever-present, she is inevitable. And I hate her for it.

The arrow - twins for life

The antlers - This man supports Keyleth's rights and her wrongs and I adore him for it. I love that he says if you're going to your death to fight this dragon then I'm with you no questions asked. He worships her and it makes me weak at the knees.

The feather - those wings become as much a part of his identity as the broom is for Vex.

The belt - his love for that belt but also his use of equipment. Vax, more than anyone I think, has his identity was tied to his equipment and his icknic moments. His boots, his armour, his belt, his daggers. They make up so much of him.

Grog

He's another super straightforward one because we'll, Grog wasn't meant to have a deep and rich and complex character. He has amazing moments but again how do I show them? Craven's edge was something I tried for but it just didn't read as exactly that so I sadly left it out. Believe me, it hurt.

The deck of many things - Those cards were Grog's roman empire and it bit him in the ass at the end and I love it. Also just Travis and his absolute inability to not push the red buttons.

Ale - no group has loved taverns as much as VM, and no one in that group loves a night of drinking as much as Grog.

The Lute - for his best bud

The Mace - for his sister

The shapes - callback to the original audio intro with Grog being first

The bag of holding - few things were as paired as Grog and that bag. No one has their inventory as well organized as that Goliath.

Tary

Blondies - I know he was only a portion of it and I think because he was there for the time they mentioned it the most, I connect Tary the most with the Slayers Cake. It's the friendships he formed in his time with the group.

The list - thinking of him saving Keyleth and getting to mark off rescuing a maiden will never fail to make me laugh

The arrow - his best friend

The gun - his other best friend

The book - his many grand tales all documented in one fantastical book

The helmet - I really wanted it in the original design but it just wasn't going to work with the pose I wanted, so it ended up at the bottom.

Yepp so these are the things I connect with these characters the most. It's silly and so much effort for such a small part of the print, but I'm proud of them.

[traumatizedartist]

Sooo... I saw @electronix-arts repost of, and I quote, "Khori Yuri", and safes to say it gave me an.... idea, so to speak

Fucked up Khan au x transfem Khan au???

Maybe? Possibly

Who knows

I might

Khitties might become real

(It will become real)

Anyways rambling of this under the cut

Soo, transfem khan

She figures it out while she's stuck with J, believe it or not

She had always felt a bit more girly than her male counterparts, but she didn't know why, and by the time she did, Uzi was already a teenager and Nori was "dead"

So she kept it a secret, out of fear mostly, that Uzi would become even more distant with her if she found out(the exact opposite will happen)

It didn't stop the late night crying in dysphoria, or the absolute hatred of her voice and clothing(I mean worker drones were made to look uni sex clearly, no curves what so ever)

She doesnt like her wrinkles either, or her mustache, but what would happen if those would randomly dissapear one day? Everyone in the Colony would question her and she didn't want to deal with that

Cut to episode 8, when khans face gets fucked up and J bitch slaps her with her body back into the labs, that being how khans face and arm got destroyed in my fucked up Khan au

But, as shes stuck with J, they both realize they have a lot in common, and become really close, like siblings, older bro lil sis, untill one day Khan tells J that it's actually older sis, not older bro, and J just, accepts it, she's like, "Yeah, that's fine" and Khan just breaks

So they hug for a bit and J, like the good lil sis that she is, takes Khan to look for some wigs, they find one, on a dead drone, and Khan, reluctantly, takes it

Cut to when Uzi and nori find them

When they do they're in shock, of course Khan doesn't notice them at first but when she does she fucken books it, nori grabs her with the solver and the most awkward moment happens between the three of them, and then to make it even worse, j comes in

She comes in sayin something like, "Hey Khan, I found a girly outfit from a dead body for you-" It's just more awkward silence

Khan is white in the face, the alternative to red in the face like humans, and nori finally says "Holy shit I have a wife now"

Also nori is bi, there is no other choice, she is and will always be bi

After she says that Uzi is like, "Sooo, you're trans" and Khan is like, "that's what its called?"

She may have known that she wanted to be a girl but she didn't know what the word for it was, she never bothered to look it up

Uzi is bewildered, and is like, "y know what, we'll talk about it later, let's go home" so they do

Uzi, somehow, found noris old wardrobe, and gives it all to Khan

And that's all I have right now

There will be a comic of this coming soon, trust me on that, and if you want to add on or draw this concept, please tag me so I can see it🥺🥺

[lostinvasileios]

Holy SHIT

Okay. It's 5am. I just woke up like 30 minutes ago but listen please it isn't the voices this time I swear. (Basically pt.2 to my "woaah Lucifer Patron canon" post)

So I went & talked to Asmodeus before I went to sleep, my beloved wondrous magnificent effortlessly amazing breathtaking stunning show stopping drool-worthy mind boggling eye capturing attention grabbing dreamboat husband and he basically said:

"Yeah go for it :) I love you" when I asked if I should be Lucifer's devotee after he said "Okay, my prince, I love you soooooooo much like mwah mwah mwah forever but oh my gods please just do what your entire being is screaming at you to do"

He spent probably like 10 straight agonizing minutes that felt like decades of trying to get me to understand that it's not weird for me to be so pulled to Lucifer and how it's kind of literally fucking fate for us to work together while I'm within this life and vessel, and I just kept responding with "but what if I fall in love with him and it makes someone angry or uncomfortable :(" (Ntm that Lucifer literally once said he wouldn't mind if I did but moving on)

Shout to Asmodeus for putting up with me man. Seriously.

Annnnyway... After I settled it with not only Asmodeus but also pestering my higher self for a while about working with Lucifer and I ended up crying and blablabla, I decided it was time to delve into connecting with him in the way I usually begin to connect with a deity.

Which is???

Pinterest board time!

One thing about me and deity work is that I'm going to be making them a Pinterest board, man. It helps so much. I get to collect their aesthetics, quotes that sound like them (or our relationship), song lyrics that stand out, little details about their appearances, ect. It's just great.

And one thing I noticed when making Lucifer's Pinterest board is that - he has brown eyes. At least my Lucifer does. ("my Lucifer" sounds so good guys. Guys. Guys I might have a crush on the devil. Oh my god, guys- GUYS) (Somebody sedate me)

And not only do I myself have brown eyes, but his in particular give off this feeling of... Wow. I mean when you see light shining through beautifully stained glass or whatever wow. I mean when you look at your beloved on stage accepting a Nobel prize wow. I mean when you get to relax and realize life is going to be okay now wow. I mean when you -

I have this distinct memory from YEARS ago in my memory. I was like 7-5. I hardly remember anything of those years, mostly because of blockage, but something stuck with me this entire time. Throughout all of my life, it's been with me. And you wanna know what it is?????????????

A brown sky.

... Yeah, okay, don't laugh.

I remember it so so vividly. I was at my uncles house. Face inches away from the television. My mother comes to pick me up, and as I'm walking to her car, I look up and see it. A beautiful, clear brown sky. I've only ever seen it once, that singular time.

And looking at it, at the sky being so beautifully earthy and just... I dunno.... I can't describe it in anything other than just... Soul mesmerizing. It felt peaceful. Calm. Soothing. Like a kiss or the cooling breeze of a fan. Like a gentle hand wiping away a tear from your face and saying everything's gonna be alright. Like... You get it, right??

Do you guys know of that one audio of a girl harmonizing with her fan?? It's sort of like that feeling you get when listening to it for a while. I really, really, don't have any vocabulary for half the shit I try and explain. I'll send telepathic brainwaves to try and communicate guys hold on

And - I'm assuming you know where this is going by now - the brown sky, is almost picture perfect like his eyes in a way. A shade of brown that's exactly like it. That same hue. That same feeling....

....

Am I just being gay brained or is it like crazy how my mind immediately connected the dots to "Oh that was Lucifer's sign to me when I was younger and that feeling means something, the fact I remembered it means something" (Foreshadowing/rhetorical)

He even... Feels similar to how I felt that night. Almost exact. Just more intense. More - there. You know? Lucifer- I could say his name forever. As strange as that sounds. It feels so easy to speak. Like such a good use of breath.

I've decided that I'll... Step into it. Into being his devotee. Practitioner. Whatever else, and whatever more. I think I'm just nervous about it because of how right it feels. You know? Like. Has something, or someone ever felt so... Just... Connected to you that it frightened you a bit? Kind of like "Oh my god- hi!... I... I've missed you. A lot." Or just- something similar? Nghhh I started writing this while it was dark and now the sun's coming up. I really need to get my day started.

But how can the economy expect me to get up for work when I feel Lucifer's love (or what I assume this feeling is) just basically raying or whatever into my heart? He literally feels so so so so so so amazing. Like the warmth yet coldness of the air during autumn, like the crunching of leaves and the feeling of sipping coffee or hot chocolate with whip cream and you get a mix of the hot liquid and the cold cream and it mushes on your nose and lip and

FUCK guys my little jester body can't handle all of this at once (Why did he start laughing when I typed that???? He thinks this is funny and it's making me wanna punch him. With my mouth.)

He feels so homey already. Like I've known him my entire life. Which I know in a sense and star-life wise (higher self wise) I have, but, it feels- like I've genuinely known him all of my current mortal life. Like I've forever practiced, he's forever been there....

God that means something that I'll have to look into later.

You know, funnily enough, even when I was Christian and unaware of the spiritual realm I was fascinated with him. Not in a "aaaaah demon!! The power of Christ compels you!" Way but more... Just - "I can fix him" way. Yeah. Let's go with that./j

"the power of Christ compels you!" "does it Jay?" "the power of Christ compels you!" "Is the power of Christ compelling me? Is that what's happening?" "The power of Christ compels you!" "Hahahaha, guess what? IT'S NOT THAT COMPELLING"

He feels like the type that would warm up some tea and mix honey into it for me when I'm sick and read me a book.

Well, the full moon is tonight. The strawberry one. I can't wait to do my ritual, I think I'll probably tell Selene about my new discoveries and feelings after it as well and end up meditating with Lucifer later to talk and stuff... I'm- honestly really excited. I hope it goes well.

[soap143]

hey, so! have you seen changbin's recent bubbles where he talks about hannie annoying him a lot? hahahahaha I wanted to request a tk fic with them, with hannie as the lee when binnie decides he's had enough of his antics ❤️ maybe jisung could do that thing where he just repeats the same thing to binnie over and over again, until he snaps haha

Hello! I know this is an old request, but I have decided to do it. Absolutely loving this duo as well lol. I feel like your idea really fits their irl personalities❤❤

•• ━━━━━━━ •• ❖ •• ━━━━━━━ ••

 Magic

lee!han

ler!changbin

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Changbin side-eyed Jisung for 100th time that evening. His bandmate just would not stop pestering and annoying him for the past 24 hours!

It all started yesterday when Han saw some silly little video on his phone and wouldn't stop repeating the annoying tiny noises he heard in it. At first, it was cute and funny. Everyone was laughing along and sometimes even joining Jisung and his little stims.

But when they all had to go off to their own dorms, Changbin realized he was stuck with a loud, restless Jisung. Chan and Hyunjin were smart enough to plan to do a sleepover at the maknae+Minho dorm. The dwaeikki hadn't thought about that...

"Hey muscle man! We're alone in the dorm tonight? That's so good!" Jisung happily cheered, jumping around and making those silly noises again.

"Oh my God... shut up please..." Changbin murmured under his breath, rubbing his temples.

The younger simply stuck his tongue out and scurried away giggling. This was going to be a long night...

The rapper had not slept well and was going to practice exhausted. Jisung had gone on with his shenanigans the whole night, not letting himself nor any other people (aka Changbin) rest.

Yet the quokka didn't seem like he was done. He kept on running around and loudly quoting the stupid video from the previous day. The rest of the members were quickly getting annoyed too, but kept quiet.

After the longest day of work, 3racha and Hyunjin came back to their home.

"Me and Hyunjin are going to grab some food with the others, ya'll hungry?" Chan asked.

"NO! Are you leaving me alone with him again?! I'm going with you." Changbin whined.

"What's so wrong with me?" Han pouted, making the best puppy eyes he could.

"Stay with him for a bit, yeah? We'll bring you guys something too." the leader pleaded "He'll get tired soon. If he doesn't, I give you permission to tire him out." said Chan with a smirk. Changbin quickly understood what he meant, smiling mischievously and looking over at the jumpy ace.

The second the two singers walked out the door, Han jumped on the second oldest member of 3rachs.

"I love you, hyung!" he sang, lovingly squirming in the curly-headed boy's grasp. Changbin in question groaned, knowing that Jisung was going to make those annoying little noises again soon.

"Beep bop, boop, boop, bam bam, bim!" the taller giggled into his bandmate's ear.

"Oh stop it, Jisung!" Changbin groaned, pushing his dongsaeng off himself.

Han simply laughed, wobbling away onto the dorm's living room area. Bin decided to follow him since he had been daydreaming about finishing this one K-drama ever since waking up.

"Move, Sungie. Wanna watch a show with me?" the dwaekki calmly offered, shoving the younger and situating himself onto the sofa.

"Oooh, yeah, I do!" Han happily bounced in his seat.

Changbin was surprised at first. Jisung had been quietly enjoying the drama playing on the TV. He was totally focused on the screen.

And just as the older thought Han's little energy burst was for sure gone, the quokka attacked him again.

"Beep beep, hyung! Boop boop, bam ba-AAAM!" Jisung tried pestering Changbin one last time when he was suddenly tightly locked into the muscleman's grip.

"This is what you're gonna get for being an ass for the past few days..." the visual of the group angrily spat through his teeth.

"Wait! I'm so going to tell Bang Chan if you hit me! He's going to murder you!" Jisung rapidly started throwing words at his hyung.

"Yeah, right. This is going to be so much worse than any beating you've ever gotten." the shorter warned, slowly pinning the squirming ace below him.

Han screamed in embarrassment, reddening up when he realized what was going to happen.

"You're crazy! You can't do this to mehehehe-HEHEHE!" Han giggled when Changbin's fingers collided with hsi sensitive sides.

Jisung flopped around, unable of escaping. The older had his wrist's tighlt gripped in one of his hands, as the other wandered around the lee's torso. Changbin had wrapped his leg around the rapper's body, making it impossible for Jisung to move around much.

"Youhuhuhu know I d-OHOHOHON'T LIHIHKE YOUHUHUHU!" Han fearlessly stated, instantly regretting it as the older's fingers dug so deep into his skin he was sure the end was near.

"What was that? Something about you adoring your hyung and looking up to him so so much?" Changbin teased, clawing at the quokka's squishy armpits.

"NOHOHOHO PLEHEHEASE I'M SOHOHORRY!" Jisung tried apologizing. He tugged and pulled at his very much pinned wrists, only realizing how immobile he was.

The dweakki smiled at the taller's poor escape attemps "You know you're not going anywhere, right?" the tickler reminded, letting go of the prodecer's wrists.

This action, however, did absolutely no good to Han. Changbin just glued both his arms onto the poor boy's ribs and agressively shook them, making Jisung see stars.

"HYUHUHUHNG S-STOHOHOP THIHIHS IS TO MUHUHCH!" Han sreeched at the top of his lungs.

The gym rat smirked at the younger's desperate screams, biting his lip and massaging deeper into the flesh.

"You like this, huh? I bet you loove this..." the dark rapper teased, switching to moving his nimble fingers all over Sung's upper body, making the younger squak and squeak.

"You're so sensitive it hurts. Imagine if someone robbed our dorm? You would tell them where every single valuable is with only a singular poke to your side..." Changbin tsked, still fastly attacking the lee's over-ticklish torso.

Bin decided to torture his favorite younger brother a little more. He sat on his hips, not even bothering to pin him.

"I'm usually never this mean, but where would you like to be wrecked for the next 5 minutes straight? Absolutely no mercy or safeword. You were far too annoying today." the older questioned, not even batting an eye at the reaction of Jisung.

"Not even a safeword? Are you out of your mind?" Han asked with the funniest expression plasted on his face.

"I wish there was a safeword for stopping your annoying butt from pestering the whole band... Now suck it up and live through it like the man you are!" Changbin yelled.

"Fine, then I choose... Legs..."

"Isn't that your most ticklish spot? You also have to be more specific; knees, thighs, feet? I don't quite understand." the dweakki attaked the boy laying below him. Even if he knew exactly what he was going to say.

"Do I have ro choose one? Can't you do both my thighs and knees?"

"I could, but then the time would be extended to 10 minutes. Is that okay?" the shorter teasingly asked, knowing he was not going to listen.

"So 10 mintes of non-stop tickling with no safeword? I can't do that! Let's do 7." the dark haired boy complained.

"7 minutes thighs and knees, plus you don't bother me afterwards. Ok?" Changbin finally sealed the deal.

"Yes. Although I can't promise you much..."

"Well if you're not completing your promise, I won't either!" Changbin said, turning to face the younger's legs.

"Waitwaitwaitwait hyung please listen to me please please ple-HEHEHEHEASE NOHOHOHOHO!!" Han immedeatly screamed when he felt someone's long fingers wrap around his hyper-sensitive knees.

"STOHOHOHOP IHIHIHI'M BEHEHEGGING!" Jisung howled with laughrter when Binnie grabbed one knee and completely focused on it.

Jisung was squirming and moving in every direction, making Changbin feel like he was riding one of those electronic bulls. The lee was trying to squeeze his knees together, bring his legs up to his chest and get the ruthless tickler off him all at the same time.

"Woah, calm down, it has only been 2 minutes bro..." the muscly man laughed at his bandmate's crazy reaction.

"AHAHAHAHA IHHIHIHIHIHIHIT'S TOHOHO MUCH P-PLEEHEHEHASE!!" the quokka begged.

Changbin might've been hungry for revenge, but he wasn't heartless. He knew even someone like Jisung, who absolutely adored being tickled, had his limits.

So, he decided upon torturing the boy a little longer and wrapping it up before Chan and Hyunjin were back with their delicious dinner.

"Alright, are you ready? If you can hold it in while I tickle your thighs, I'll let you in 15 seconds." the older remarked.

"Y-yehehes please..." Jisung panted, his chest rising up and down.

The rapper started a timer before slowly and gently drawing little circles onto the inner part of Sung's thighs.

Such soft tickles made Han cutely kick his feet and grab his hyung's shoulders in desperation.

"P-please hyung-" Han breathed out, quickly shutting up before any laughs or giggles escaped.

"Five... four... three..." Changbin counted down.

Only a few more seconds left... Jisung thought.

"Twoooo...." Bin teasingly streched the last numbers out, wiggling his fingers a little faster at the ticklish skin, making Han shiver and slam his head repeatedly against the soft cushions of the couch.

"Aaaaand..." the tickler continued teasing. Just as he was abou to say the last number and end the game, Han finally giggled, unable of hadling the softness and tingliness of the tickles.

"HAHA! You lost!" the shorter happily announced, jumping up and celebrating.

"i-ihiht's not faiiir! You cheated..." Han whined, gulping the air he had been so thirsty for the past 15 minutes of the tickle torture.

"We're back! You guys want some curry with rice?" Chan loudly announced, slipping his shoes off and lifting the two bags into the air.

"Oh my, thank you Channie-hyung and Hyunjin! I'm so hungry, you have no idea. Jisung, come eat with us, you must be hungery too~" Changbin invited the sweaty and read Han over.

"Wow, Jisung is calm? Hyung, you'll have to show me your ways some day, because just two hours ago this boy was jumping around and running everywhere..." Hyunjin gasped in surprise.

"Magic" The dweakki proudly smirked.

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JFGSFGHASDGFASDHGAJSD I loved writing this sososos much ☹☹☹ Hope you guys will love it too! I've actually been quite in the mood to write these past few days, so maybe I will complete some more requests?? You never know...

[i-hope-this-is-a-phase]

Caiti's Final Response Important Quotes

The Discord kept asking for quotes for this whole thing, so I went into the trenches and tried to quote all the important bits she said. Let me know if there are any errors or quotes you would like added. You may screenshot any of these quotes, just mention that I made them (because it was hard to do and I would like some acknowledgement askcnakdns).

Anyway, here we go:

(Extremely dicey: view at your own risk!)

"if you're looking at this stream for me to like expose and drop new drama or just anything to talk about, it's not that kind of stream" - Caiti

About the Grope

"It is fucking sexual assault, okay? I'm not going to apologize, say that it isn't sexual assault, that I'm not a sexual assault victim"

"He felt up my tits, on a couch, with other people there. He stuck his hand up my shirt, under my bra, and felt up, fondled, whatever you want to say, he felt up my tits."

"…getting called a slut and a prude at the same time"

"He felt up my tits; this touching that he's talking about, that's what it is, okay? No, I'm not upset that he tickled me, saying that he assaulted me because he tickled me, or because he was close to me, no! I'm upset because I was on a couch, 18 years old, drunk, on a couch with other people in the room, and he sticks up his hand and starts feeling my tits."

"He would have never felt my uncomfort because he was too busy feeling something else that night"

"He did not rape me either. Like it's so important to hear what I am saying" - talking about misinformation being spread

Acknowledging Twitter

"I really do encourage everyone to watch my response on it. Like, either read my response on Twitter or watch the original video"

"The screenshot that I--my recent response on Twitter--this is the only kind of response thing I'm gonna give--I will acknowledge--that was a complete miscommunication. There's a screenshot I said was form his friend, that wasn't there for the assault, mentioned our ages and acknowledged you know the situation was weird. It's a real screenshot. What I got wrong, [what] was miscommunicated was who it was from."

"It was actually from isntead of the guy--who left and wasn't there for the assault it was from the girl who wasn't there for the assault."

"I do acknowledge and own up to the fact that that was completley wrong, but again I'm saying even though it wasn't from this friend, it was yet another person in the hotel room that acknowledged the weirdness."

"he fucking admitted to doing what he did to me"

Being Drunk and Consent

"For the people saying she was drunk too and didn't consent, I didn't fucking feel up his tits! What did he not consent to. I would like to make it clear: there was no reciprocation in any sexual act. The sexual act that happened was not reciprocated."

"The only thing he could have not consented to was him putting his own hand on my tit."

Why She Didn't Do _______

"I privated all my things so I couldn't receive followers, receive clout, y'know I couldn't grow from this"

"For people saying take legal action: do you know the odds of winning an assault case?"

(She talked in depth about how she couldn't win the crying scenario: either she cried and was called faking it and dramatic or she wouldn't and would be called soulless but I'm not transcribing that it went on for 3 minutes)

Acknowledging the Inconsistencies

"And the fact if I have inconsistencies in my story, which I do and I'm not going to say that I don't. I'm, like, remembering the night of my assault, and I'm sorry that the thing that I really remembered is the assault."

"I will acknowledge that there are inconsistencies, but when I acknowledge there are inconsistencies…my whole story is out, it's in the trash, and I'm seen as a liar"

"the one thing we agree on is the fact that he touched me and didn't ask if I was okay with it"

The Word Choice

"The fact of him saying I painted it in a bad light. I'm talking about my assault. I'm not going to paint it in a fucking rainbows and sunshine light."

(about the cuddling) "It wasn't anything sexual, and I believe it was pretty tame"

The Negative Attention

(talking about content creation and negative attention) "I've lost the love i've spent so long on because of this"

She's talking about how she has no idea what to do with the clout she'll "gain" from this

"I don't want a career in content"

"It's insane. I mean watching people--the position i'm in--watching thousands of people comment on your sexual assault story; people fight each other over it; people use it as a talking point on a YouTube video or a podcast, yknow, it being made into clickbait. It's--it's insane"

On George's Response

"I could have even understood if it would have been a, 'I know we have different persepctives of the night, and i know i assumed stuff that i shouldn't have, but i'm still sorry for hurting you.' But any time again he re admits to the fact that he touched me without my consent is followed iwth a but."

"It's followed with a 'yes i touched you, yes i didn't ask if it was okay, BUT you were smiling, BUT you seemed like you would want it, BUT you seemed--' im fucking sick of it!"

Caiti paraquoting George "Here. Here is everyhting on a silver platter. Everything she was kinda wrong about, ad everything she left out. So she can't be trusted, and because I am the one pointingit out, you can trust me"

Bias

"The person he's getting to confirm his point of view is his best friend. Or the guy he called in the video? Again his friend"

"These edited response videos? He's making them with Dream"

"And I do acknowledge, this is me acknowledging, I can also be a hypocrite in this situation because I had a best friend there."

"But I would also like to point out that the two girls there, the one from the screenshot that said--that mentioned the age difference and was mentioning how weird it was, and…the other girl that was there during the assault, texted me the day after and said ' are you okay? I was really uncomfortable with how touchy George was being.' Those two girls? I met two days prior"

Power Imbalance

About the power imbalance- "I was an aspiring creator, and these were the biggest creators in the industry"

"There's creators that messaged me about their stories but say they are still too scared to do it"

"We have the same twitch fucking manager"

"If [the move] was done in a private setting, maybe I could have mustered up enough courage to say 'no I'm not comfortable with this' or to rip his hands out of my fucking bra. But he did it on a couch with other people sitting next to us, and with other people in the room. Any, y'know, any expression I did, anything I did, it was on display for other people. He took the power away from me in that situation."

"And for everyone saying 'Well you could have given non-verbal consent.' I will tell you right now, if I was given the opportunity to give even non-verbal consent, my answer would have always been no."

"I'm asexual."

On Glorifying Creators

"You don't know these people. These are people who create content to millions of people. They aren't your best friends."

"These content creators that have spent time with these people. These content creators who do know these people, have had private conversations with these people, speaking out against them."

"I was hoping to open people's eyes, I guess"

"I would never forgive him"

She acknowledges that she did not like that people used her story to spread hate

for why she came forward - "I wanted to be [what shelby was] for other people"

[enihk-writes]

[日久见人心]

characters: present!chung myung + afab!she/her!reader

baek cheon x afab!she/her!reader (implied and one-sided from the reader's end because they are not the main plot point for this fic lol)

summary: old habits die hard, even when you are born in a new body. to his credit, he does try not to seem like he is the reincarnation of the plum blossom sword saint, but his subconscious actions said otherwise. he didn't think you of all people would notice.

word count: 3.85k

author's note: the phrase 日久见人心 (rì jiǔ jiàn rén xīn) is part of the full saying 路遥知马力，日久见人心 (lù yáo zhī mǎ lì, rì jiǔ jiàn rén xīn) and i vaguely remember it was something my mother tongue teacher back in secondary said we could use in our composition essays or whatever,,,, and recently i saw it on those cringey rise-and-grind motivational crypto bro ig pages my ex-classmates are reposting on their stories which kinda gave me an idea lmao.... anyways the meaning of the quote is that we need to take time to understand a person's character (also the fic is the result of my caffeine overconsumption lol and not related to my previous cmxreader because i needed a break from all that angst romance i've been writing wwwwwwww)

═══════════════

chung myung has been starting to think that you were cut out from the same cloth as yu iseol.

quiet, aloof and always watching.

if someone said that you both were twins, he wouldn't be surprised. but then again, there were differences. the most obvious one was that iseol had more talent with the blade than you did, and the other was that iseol had no talent in actually taking care of herself. you were barely managing, but compared to your senior sister? it was far more decent. the two of you had tang soso to thank for not dying as fast as you could have.

chung myung. bowl.

he looks up to see your hand outstretched, waiting to pick up the empty bowl he'd cleaned off long ago. chung myung grunts and hands it over, propping his arm up and resting his head on it as he watched you go around the dining hall to collect the dinnerware.

you lived in mount hua, sure, but you weren't the fighting sort. maybe because anything you did could get you sick — if the weather dropped or rose a little too quickly, your body would tremble and shiver. did you move a little too much today? did you happen to sleep later than you were supposed to that night? by the next morning you were down with a terrible fever that kept you in your room for the rest of the day. but now that tang soso was here, she would drag you down to the medicine hall, grumbling under her breath, all while you looked at her teary-eyed and apologetic.

maybe it was out of shame or embarrassment that made you try to be yourself useful in other ways, though you would often fail and cause more trouble. everyone would just sigh and pick up after your mess, ushering you out to do something else.

during those days, he'd find you hunched behind the baths, sobbing in frustration. chung myung didn't know what to do or say, he'd always talked more with his fist before his heart, so he'd end up hiding in the trees to watch over you instead. and once you've cried it all out, you would stand, wash your face and go to bed. trying something else tomorrow.

chung myung gives credit where credit was due. for a sickly kid, you sure had a thicker skin than the others.

eventually, you stuck with being the cleaner. your weird, meticulous habits somehow working well in this job. the cups and plates were wiped till it shone, silverware were polished until you could see your own face and that hard-to-scrub dirt on the grout would be pristine and white when left in your hands. chung myung wonders secretly if maybe you'd picked this talent up from that neat freak baek cheon.

what are you thinking about?

he almost hits you out of instinct. you really were cut from the same cloth as yu iseol.

he lets out a shaky breath as he turns to face you, who had been sitting behind him. you look at him owlishly and he would have thought you weren't breathing if not for the movement of your nostrils. crossing his leg over the other, he juts his chin at you in acknowledgement.

what is it?

you're quieter, and thinking a lot more than normal today.

ah... this kid... how does everything that comes out of that mouth sound like an insult? chung myung tries to reign in his short temper, he didn't want to hit a frail person for no reason, and he knows that you just happen to always talk like that.

hm. i was thinking about you.

woah. pervert.

ah... maybe he should hit your head just once. just once and he'll never hit you again.

i'm kidding.

really? were you now?

i'm really kidding, don't go and look like you're going hit me like you do with our senior brothers.

okay, you were off the hook. for now.

hmph. you shouldn't tease your elders.

what elder.

chung myung forgets that you were the same age as him. well, in this body, not spiritually. but if he were to talk about life experience and reincarnation, he was the older one but fuck! you didn't know that! he didn't tell anyone he was the plum blossom sword saint ugh!

chung myung, are you going to have an aneurysm?

shut up!

═══════════════

winter in mount hua was really cold. and chung myung, surprisingly, didn't do so well with the cold. though, he would rather die than let anyone ever find out about that.

he wakes up early to train as usual, but the cold this morning was so biting, he was tempted to just stay in bed, it wasn't easy being an old man. ah, but the other disciples would be celebrating if he didn't appear for morning practice and that was no good. after all, the future of the sect still depended on him, didn't it?

he got dressed and stepped out of his room —

chung myung.

fuck! couldn't you talk to people like a normal person? why do you love to sneak up on people like this? cheong mun sa-hyung please, please, please give him patience and strength.

you look cold.

he was! great observation! chung myung wants to yell that to you with gritted teeth. he was still, unfortunately, very unnerved by how he couldn't feel your presence.

follow me. i have something for you.

you didn't wait for him to reply, instead grabbing his hand as you dragged him to the kitchen. he didn't try to resist, letting you pull him wherever, like a parent going to see what their child just found.

the two of you walk across the training grounds that had been buried under a blanket of pristine snow, the dim light of your paper lantern showing you the way. treading past and leaving two sets of footprints behind.

you push him into the kitchen, hanging the lantern up on a hook in the wall. chung myung notices the fire in the stone stove, you had already started it before going out to find him, probably because you were boiling something in that pot standing over the fire. chung myung sits on the ground, huddling before the blaze, it felt warm and comforting in the kitchen. the sound of water boiling in the pot and the crackling of the charred wood its heat blowing across his frigid face was, unsurprisingly, giving him a boost of energy.

you carefully move the pot to the side, removing the lid to check the contents in it. looking pleased with the result, you take out a bowl still steaming into your hands and placed it on the ground between you and chung myung as quickly as you could.

he looks over curiously. it looked like some kind of pudding, he doesn't think he's seen it before —

it's milk pudding, with lotus seeds and almonds

oh? he pondered, eyeing the bowl as you handed him a spoon.

aren't these ingredients used to make mooncakes?

chung myung asks, folding his arms. he notices that you were avoiding his gaze. don't tell him you...?

did you steal these from the warehouse?

hey! steal is a strong word!

oh i'm sorry, your highness, did you perhaps take the ingredients from the fucking warehouse?

he scoffed mockingly, exaggerating his manner of speech in mild irritation. he laughed at your grimace and pouty expression. ah, he feels like he's making fun of a toddler, he should be ashamed for bullying a kid at his age.

hm, he hasn't done something this juvenile in a long time. it was oddly nostalgic, in a way. he mused, digging into the soft and smooth surface of the pudding with the spoon, trying to scoop up the lotus seeds and almonds in it too.

mmh. 's not bad.

wow, i didn't know you knew how to compliment people

should i take that back then?

i'm sorry.

═══════════════

you had been working hard in cleaning the floors for spring cleaning. but the boys were so heavy-footed and honestly far too uninterested in their surroundings that the well-polished wooden floorboards you were really proud of was always dusty.

should you just barricade the entrance of the dorms until nightfall? just so they wouldn't walk all over your hard work?

you sit on the steps, your hair tied into a scarf, head resting on the propped broom you held between your legs. thinking long and hard over your predicament while looking over at the training grounds where chung myung was drilling down on everyone else.

the sun hung high in the cloudless afternoon sky, its rays casting down on the compound harshly. you were beginning to feel dizzy and closed your eyes, hoping to relieve the pain growing in your head.

you didn't hear anything outside the constant ringing in your ears, so one can only imagine your surprise when the reddish tint you saw while your eyes were closed grew dark.

who?

you cracked open your eyes to try and make out the person standing before you, wincing when the bright light nearly blinded you.

a familiar chuckle graced your ears as the ringing grew quiet. ah, it was senior baek cheon.

he taps the bamboo flask against your forehead, the water in it swishing against the walls. you take it, grateful, chugging down the contents, choking on it a little when a few drops went down the wrong pipe.

hey, hey... slow down... no one's going to take it away from you...

you cough, turning away in embarrassment. baek cheon sits down next to you on the steps, watching your antics in quiet amusement. you didn't want to look at him, not when he was practically topless, with his hair tied up high and swept over his shoulder.

chung myung looks at the scene from afar, not really clocking anything in his mind until he sees the way you were trying to scoot a little further away like a snail touching salt and your hands covering up your cheeks.

oh.

oh?

so you and baek cheon huh?

chung myung feels the cogs in his brain turn. at times like these he wishes he had someone to talk about this with, maybe tang bo. he would have loved to hear about petty gossip like this, and they could have teased the kids like the old men they were.

so you think something is going on between her and baek cheon sasuk too, huh?

jo-gul's voice comes up from behind, and chung myung didn't need to look over to see the guy's eyes trained on his targets.

if you have so much free time to discuss other people's love lives, i think we can continue with our training right, sahyungs?

chung myung called out loudly for everyone to hear.

jo-gul you fucking bastard!

you and your big mouth...

ugh... i can't get up...

the poor guy could only hang his head in quiet embarrassment. baek cheon laughed at the antics of the others, getting up to walk back to the training grounds. but not before he reached out to tuck a stray strand of your hair behind your ear.

if you're going to rest, do it in the shade. i don't think you want to fall ill again tomorrow, do you?

he asks, and you shake your head in response.

mmh. i'll see you around?

see you...

you wave meekly as he left, your insides going through an entire acrobatics routine. wondering what that short exchange was all about. it couldn't be that he liked you back? or did he catch onto your growing crush? you wanted to throw yourself off the cliff.

═══════════════

i didn't take you for a guy that had habits like this.

chung myung gulped down the last of the warm water in his cup, setting it down on the counter, and looked at you quizzically. your elbows were propped up over the edge of the counter and you were perched on the stool in a rather un-ladylike manner.

it's good for your health you know.

psh... isn't that an old wives tale?

he scoffs and shakes his head.

haah...

he sighs.

the young people these days.

you look at him, head tilted in confusion. humming for a bit, you let your thoughts simmer before you decided to pose the question.

hey, why'd you speak like that?

chung myung pauses.

like what?

you know... like an old man?

he sucks in a quick breath. there was no way you of all people would have figured it out, right?

he felt like he was spiralling into a bit of a panic.

hey.

you snap your fingers in his face, moving to stand beside him while he was deep in thought.

earth to chung myung?

he looks at you.

he takes a good look at you.

you were not the brightest bulb in the bush, or however that saying goes, at least when compared to him. there was no way you connected the dots and figured out he was the plum blossom sword saint. yeah, this was for sure a case of the right formula and the wrong answer.

he had to divert your thoughts before you start to think deeper.

i think i hear baek cheon sasuk coming over.

huh?

it was your turn to panic a little, and he darts out of the kitchen to escape what would have been your incoming torrent of scrutiny. you realise just then that you had been completely bamboozled by the bastard chung myung.

running to the door, you yell out a string of curses at the run-away instigator. ah, your blood pressure...

═══════════════

you think chung myung might have been raised by old people. because there was no other plausible reason that he acts the way he does.

sometimes he walks with his hands behind his back, and while most people your age would stand straight and position their arms in a stiff way, chung myung puts his hands on his lower back — like he was supporting it. you know who else does this? the sect leader and the other elders. and it doesn't help his case that he was always slouching a little.

another thing you notice was how his taste in food was a few notches blander than the rest of you. he wasn't fond of anything too salty or sour or anything undercooked. he'd always pick out the softest parts of any cooked meat, saying it was the juiciest, which was somewhat believable. but then wasn't it also nearest to where the animals organs used to be before it was gutted? wouldn't it taste bitter?

speaking of bitter, chung myung liked to eat food that made you squeamish. he'd nag at the nutritional value of them and when nobody wanted to try it out, he'd mumble something about kids these days not knowing what's good for them and scarf it down by himself.

that was another thing about him, why was he always calling you a kid when you were the same age as him? it wasn't that big of a deal for you. but calling the other seniors kids? you wondered if it was his way of showing his martial superiority in a twisted way, or if it was another underlying reason.

surely, it must be because he was raised by the elderly.

god, you were so smart, weren't you? connecting the dots like that?

═══════════════

chung myung was sure you were dropped on the head as an infant.

you had cornered him in the toilets. broke down and the door and everything, just to ask him who he was raised by. it was ridiculous, the scene that was folding out right then and he chooses to ignore that your weak body had somehow broken down a fucking wooden door. he has to ignore that, for his own sanity.

you were on the walls, hands clawing and feet digging on the rough surface. chung myung shirks away, exasperated. somewhere in the afterlife, he thinks he could hear the loud cackle of his friends at his predicament.

chung myung.

he tries to evade eye contact.

chung myung.

oh man, look at that spider on the ceiling spinning a web.

hey where are you looking? i'm over here.

he finally looks at you turning his head slowly.

uh... i think... you might be a bit too close...

a bit too close was a forgiving statement. your head had craned forward far enough that your face was almost less than a centimetre away from his.

you lean back at his reply. still not keeping your eyes off him. after all, he still hadn't answered your question.

you know that i'm an orphan... right?

yeah. so am i.

i wasn't raised by anybody...

oh.

you step back, pondering for a moment. chung myung feels the breath he was holding leave his lungs. you caused him so much anxiety. remember when he thought you were cut from the same cloth as yu iseol? he stands corrected, but you were insane in the opposite direction.

okay. so who raised you?

chung myung feels his eye twitch. why were you asking the same thing? he already told you!

i'm telling you—!

nuh-uh. that's not what i want to know. i want to know if you grew up with old people.

then you should have asked that from the beginning!

i panicked, okay?

he sighs, deeply, and covers his face in his hands. he feels his miraculous second life leaving his body at this exchange.

to answer your question. no, i didn't.

huh. i see.

you answer simply.

chung myung peeks at you through his fingers, surprised at your unusual silence. you, on the other hand, had grown more confused by his answer. if he hadn't been raised by the elderly, then how would anybody act the way he did? not to mention, he had knowledge of niche historical facts that nobody other than a person living in that time would have known of.

can i go now?

huh? oh yeah... sure...? oh! wait—!

you had answered too absentmindedly! you weren't done questioning him! shit! the slippery bastard had gotten away!

you jog out the door, only to bump into someone when turning a corner. a pair of arms catch you from falling. looking up you were met with baek cheon's worried gaze, which morphed into confusion when he realized at the same time as you did that you had ran out of the boys' toilets.

uh... wait... i can explain...

you wondered if a lighting bolt could strike down in broad daylight.

═══════════════

you were sulking in the kitchen.

the guy you had a somewhat infatuation with caught you in an embarrassing moment. you had convinced yourself all chances you had with him were ruined. this was all chung myung's fault. every time you had the slightest inconvenience you would secretly curse him out a little in your heart. you used to feel bad when you still had a working conscience, but not anymore though.

speak of the devil, and he comes walking in.

chung myung came in to ransack the cellar behind the kitchen for wine. he had been craving it for the past few days after his own stash ran out. he had waited for everyone else to be asleep before sneaking in as quietly as he could.

so one can only imagine the shock he felt, even though he swears he had already seen it all, when he finds your shadowy figure sitting crossed-legged on the counter and your two eyes staring right back at him in the darkness.

keugh—!

chung myung bites back a scream. fuck! can he please have one, one. peaceful day where you didn't fuck around with his psyche?

you didn't know he was coming in so soon. but you didn't care much since you had something to give him anyway.

shoving the lacquer box engraved with floral designs into his chest, you motion for him to take a look inside. chung mying complied, hesitantly lifting off the lid to find rows of thin mooncakes, without the egg yolks probably, and another layer under that was filled with a flaky-looking biscuit.

it's called tau sar piah.

he hums, taking the round ball out to inspect it. shrugging, he popped it into his mouth and chews down on the pastry. the flavour, it was familiar. he thinks, was it—?

dried mung bean paste?

you nodded, grinning.

what's this for though?

don't tell me you forgot.

forget? what did he forget?

it's your birthday you goon. well, in a few hours but still.

oh. he had forgotten, momentarily. you really were a good kid, remembering this old man's birthday and making something for him. shit, chung myung thinks he might tear up. was this what it was like to have grandchildren? he thinks he understands why cheong mun sa-hyung might have suggested he take on disciples of his own, or well, trusted him enough to babysit the children of the sect back then. ugh, he was a grandfather after all, and you were somehow his most troublesome child.

he sniffles. closing the lid on the box and grabbing the wine. well, it would be lonely to eat all of this on his own, and waking up the others would be too much of a hassle. suppose you would make do as his drinking buddy tonight. hooking an arm under your knees, he slings you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. the other grabbing the food and drink.

he jumps on the roofs until he brings you to a spot where the moon felt the closest. he drops you on your feet as you balance yourself on the uneven shingles. chung myung plopped down, leg crossed over the other, as he began to down the wine straight from the bottle.

he hands you the lid of the box, picking out the mooncake and biting into it.

wow. tastes kinda ass.

ugh, ungrateful much?

i never said i wouldn't eat it.

can't you just say your appreciation like a normal person?

a pause.

...thank you.

chung myung replied in a softer voice.

hmph. see? that wasn't so hard?

you huffed, teasing him.

chung myung only scoffed and rolled his eyes.

the night drudged on, and you spent the time talking about everything and nothing. things that happened that week, gossip you've heard, events that had happened in the past, antics of the other sect members...

chung myung feels his eyelids grow heavy. was it alright to rest his grieving heart for a while on his birthday? cheong mun sa-hyung and the others' surely wouldn't mind.

and as he feels himself drifting off to sleep, your voice quips up.

hey, do you think i should confess to sasuk?

psh—!

chung myung spits out the wine in his mouth, choking on the liquid that went up and out his nose. it felt as though he was vomiting out blood from that question alone.

you were really his most troublesome kid.

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

New Girl [01]

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

(slow burn, endgame, as in you’ll be seeing some short term pairings here and then as well)

MODERN DAY AU

Word count: 5,417

Warning: self-doubt, anxiety, hurt/comfort, cursing

Summary: Life threw you a curve ball when you walked in on  your long term boyfriend making out with someone who definitely wasn’t  you. Since living with him was no longer an option, you’ve ventured out  at the advice of a work friend and found the absolute perfect loft to  reside in. The only issue?

You suddenly have four very odd roommates.

[01]: REBOUND SEX

“Wow, I regret this.” Bucky bobbed his head once and turned to look at Peter who stood in the kitchen with him, “What the fuck did you do to us?”

“How is this my fault??” Peter scoffed.

Bucky narrowed his eyes, “Uh, I think your exact words were, ‘Come on, guys. Models will be crawling around the apartment. This will be an absolute dream.’” He pointed to the living room where you were slumped over on the couch watching the same movie you had put on a week and a half ago. “We have used tissues, a crying girl, and I now have the ability to quote Legally Blonde in my sleep.”

“There are less models than I thought there’d be.” Peter mumbled to himself.

Clint stepped out of his bedroom door, it sat by the kitchen, and clapped his hands, “Legally Blonde is a great movie. Excuse you.”

“Yeah, I agreed until about the 132nd hour of it.” Bucky said between clenched teeth. “We need to do something to stop this nonsense, and by we I mean you.” He turned to point at Peter. “You got us into this. You get us out.”

“What am I supposed to do?”

Bucky crossed his arms, “I don’t know. Crying girls aren’t my specialty.”

“And they’re mine??” Peter scoffed.

Clint shrugged, “We just assumed you make girls cry all the time. Plus, you’re like super tight with Gamora and Mantis, right? They’re girls.”

“What part of who Gamora is makes you think she cries at all?” Peter replied.

“Yeah, but Mantis seems like the type to tear up every other day at the least.” Bucky countered. Well, he wasn’t wrong. Mantis was empathetic to an extreme. He had just watched her cry at a commercial where a dog kept trying to hide a bone, but people kept digging it up. That didn’t mean he wanted this responsibility placed on him though.

Peter’s mouth fell open with a silent argument, but Bucky just glared at him and Clint’s attention was already focused in on the coffee pot. He grumbled under his breath and turned to stalk over to the living room couch where you were sprawled out sniffling.

“Heeeeey.” Peter dragged the word out as chirpily as he could.

You turned your face away from the screen to look at Peter who had just sat down by your feet. He gave you a sheepish smile and began to pat your ankle with his hand at an awkward pace. You assumed he was trying to bring you comfort, that’s probably what the whisper fight in the kitchen had been about, but it didn’t help.

“Hi.” You greeted before blowing your nose. Peter grimaced, but you just slowly sat up and pointed to the screen. “You wanna watch Legally Blonde with me?”

Peter shook his head, “No. No, I really don’t. I’d love to never see this movie ever again. Ever.“

“Sorry.” You deflated. “I know it’s annoying, but Legally Blonde is my breakup movie.”

“Right. I get that.” He paused. “Well, I really don’t actually because I don’t understand how this is your breakup movie.”

You stuck your lower lip out into a pout, “Elle Woods is a strong independent woman who needs no man.”

“Mhmm, okay.” Peter reached out for the remote and paused the TV, “Here’s the thing though. This isn’t going to make you feel better. What we need to do is go out and find you a rebound.”

You shook your head, “I don’t know if I’m ready for a rebound.”

“You’re so ready for a rebound. Sex with strangers fixes everything.”

“I don’t know…” You replied skeptically. For the past three years, you had only been with one guy. In fact, you had mentally already established that he would be the only guy you’d be with for the rest of your life. He had been your future. The thought of going out and trying to find someone new was… daunting. It also sounded a little impossible. Did you even remember how to flirt with a stranger? You grimaced, “I don’t even think I know how—”

“That’s what we’re for!” Peter gave you a broad grin, “You’re coming out with us tonight and we are going to find you someone new.”

“Really?”

Peter nodded and set his hand on your shoulder, “Absolutely. We are going to get you some good, after breakup sex.” He smirked. “Even if I have to knuckle down and get in there myself—”

“Jar!” Bucky and Clint yelled from the kitchen.

Peter cursed under his breath and moved to put money in the jar designed for him. His words hadn’t even fazed you, your time here had gotten you used to some of the things Peter said. He was a really good guy who sometimes slipped into a douchebag headspace. All the guys here were good guys. Clint was a disaster, you found him sitting on the dining room table at 2 AM once chugging coffee from the actual pot and he still used a flip phone for some odd reason, but he was also sweetheart that would sit on the couch with you at some odd time in the morning to watch your comfort movie. Sam seemed the more responsible one in the loft, when he wasn’t trying to one up or mock Bucky, and he reminded you of a caring older brother. Especially when he made you breakfast last week before the two of you left for work and talked to you about one of his worse breakups. Then there was Bucky. Bucky was… well, he was grumpy for lack of a more accurate word. He was kind of like a 100-year-old trapped inside a 26-year-old’s body. You hadn’t gotten to spend much time with him yet but you knew he meant well. He was protective of the loft group.

You sunk in your seat and rolled the thought of going out around your head. The idea of finding someone new was terrifying, but you couldn’t sit on this couch and cry forever. Plus, the boys would be there to make sure you didn’t cave in on yourself. Peter had said so himself. Fortune favored the bold, right?

You shifted in the booth and tried to readjust the dress you had put on. It felt weird to be in something that wasn’t your pajamas or your work clothes. The bar was crowded, unsurprising on a Friday night, and the atmosphere was comfortable. You hadn’t really found a bar in the city that you liked enough to frequent, but this one was actually kind of nice. It was kind of a mess, not in a super great area of the city, and some would probably use the word ‘sketchy’ or ‘ancient’ or ‘weird, carpeted drinking hole in the wall’ to describe it, but you liked it. This was the bar where Bucky worked and somehow that made sense to you.

“You look great, stop fidgeting.” Peter said from beside you. Sam, on his other side, nodded in agreement and you gave the boys a small smile. It did kind of feel nice to clean up again. “Here comes Buck.”

You glanced over to see your roommate make his way toward the booth with drinks in his hands. Bucky wore jeans with a long sleeve t-shirt and a short sleeve one on top of that. His sleeves were rolled up though and he had a rag thrown over his shoulder casually. “Alright, here.” Bucky set the two beer bottles he was carrying in one hand onto the table in front of Peter and Sam then set a glass of wine in front of you. It was the same as the type you drank at home. “You coach her into finding a winner yet, Quill?”

“I don’t like your tone.” Peter replied then took a swig of his beer. Bucky chuckled once, shook his head, then wandered back to the bar. Peter turned to you, “Alright. Rules of the night. You will speak in short sentences, you will not mention anything about your ex, unless you’re talking about rebound sex, and you will be going home with a date at the very least or my name isn’t Star Lord.”

Sam narrowed his eyes and scoffed, “Your name isn’t Star Lord, dumbass.”

“Stage name, Sam. Jesus. How many times do I have to have this conversation with you people?”

“Okay.” You ignored the argument between them that you definitely had heard before and looked around the bar. There was a cute guy leaning against a pillar talking to some of his friends. He wasn’t half bad. “He’s kind of cute.”

Peter focused back on you, “Go get him, tiger.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

“Go…talk to him?? Like where he can hear me?”

“Him hearing you is an important part yes.”

Your hand tightened around your glass. Sam cleared his throat and motioned to you with his bottle, “You don’t have to do this. As the self-appointed voice of reason, I think I’m supposed to suggest waiting until you’re ready.”

“Waiting ‘til you’re ready is for pussies.” Peter said.

“Jar.” Sam snapped his gaze to him.

“We aren’t even in the loft! There’s no bar jar!”

You didn’t want to wait. You wanted to be over your shitty ex-boyfriend and if this was how you had to do it then so be it. Without waiting, you threw back half the wine in your glass, Peter and Sam both made noises of surprise, then you stood up and pointed at them, “Rebound sex, bitches.”

Peter and Sam both chuckled and you whipped around to go talk to the cute guy. You could do this. You could do this. You were a fucking catch, and any guy would be lucky to have you. Obviously, your ex didn’t think that when he cheated on you. Apparently, you weren’t good enough for him—no! No, bad thoughts. Just flirty thoughts. You could do this damn it.

Could you do this??

Bucky poured another drink, delivered it, then moved to wipe the bar of any spills. When he looked back up, both Sam and Peter were sitting at the bar in front of him. Clint was at work tonight, which meant they had no idea where he was, but that was the norm for them. Peter leaned onto the bar and clasped his hands together.

“Bucky, I need you to get us into the Stark party.”

“How am I supposed to do that?” Bucky replied. Peter gave him a hard look and he rolled his eyes in response, “I am not calling my ex-girlfriend to get you into this dumb party—”

“We go every year! You can’t take this from me. The theme is wild wild west. Do you know how cute of an outlaw I make? We have to go.”

Bucky shook his head, “I am not calling Elektra.”

“Why?” Sam raised an eyebrow at him, “You call her drunk all the time.”

“I do not.” Bucky glared at him.

“You literally called her drunk three days ago.” Peter said. “Now please—”

Bucky shook his head again, “No. I’m not gonna do it.”

“I thought you loved me!”

“Well, like always, you were wrong.” Bucky replied dryly. He glanced around the bar, “Where is little miss rebound sex? Did you idiots leave her alone?”

“She’s fine. She’s picking up a dude right now.” Peter pointed behind him. Bucky leaned to the side to look past his giant head and spotted you leaning against the wall talking to some random guy. From the looks of it you were talking very, very fast, maybe not even breathing, and your hands were flying around as you told whatever story you were telling.Your hand caught the edge of his drink and it spilled back on the dude. Bucky grimaced, Sam flinched, and Peter groaned. “Okay. Maybe she’s not picking up a dude right now.”

Bucky pointed in your direction, “That was painful to watch. Go save her.”

“She’s a big girl. She’s just gotta…brush off the cobwebs. Get back in the groove.” Peter argued.

Sam took a big sip of his beer then set it down and stood, “I’ll go get her.”

“Thank you.” Bucky replied and went to serve another customer. When he came back, Peter was giving him a pleading look that bordered on pathetic and pitiful. “Quill, I said no.”

Peter grumbled, “I can’t believe you’d betray me like this.”

“—and I think it was going okay until I spilled his drink.” You said as Sam motioned for you to take what had been his seat. All three men shook their heads at you, and you groaned in defeat before setting your head down at the bar. God, you were so out of practice.

Peter and Sam said you needed a break and they peeled away to talk to some other friends while you moped at the bar. This was the place for it after all. Someone cleared their throat, and when you looked up Bucky was still in front of you. He had placed a new wine glass by your resting head. You took it with a small smile, “Thanks.” He nodded his head once. You took a long sip then spoke, “Well I guess at the end of the day, I just can’t hide my crazy enough to pick up a guy anymore.”

“I really don’t think you’re trying that hard to hide it, doll.” Bucky shook his head.

You chuckled, “I’ve just…never been good at this.” Sad thoughts began to creep in again. Doubts that you’d ever find someone to put up with for another three years. You took another big sip of your drink and motioned to Bucky, “Well, at least I’m not alone.” He raised an eyebrow at you and you continued. “Just a couple of dumped losers, huh?”

“I’m fine.” Bucky argued with a shake of his head. “It’s been six months.”

“Do you know why she dumped you?”

He shrugged, “Doesn’t matter. I don’t care. Didn’t make a difference.” Bucky grabbed a glass to clear with his rag and gave you a tight lipped, awkward smile, “All I knew was that I wanted to set her trash cans on fire afterwards so…”

“You don’t wonder, like, what you could’ve done differently?” You asked, leaning onto the bar, “Racking your brain at night, wondering what’s wrong with you.” Bucky gave you a skeptical look and you forced another chuckle. “You know what happens when you keep all your emotions bottled up inside like you do?”

Bucky hummed, “What?”

“You become old, and bitter, and sad, and a little weird.”

“Who says I’m not already all of that?” Bucky scoffed.

You pointed at him, “You can’t just pretend it didn’t happen, Barnes.”

Bucky stared at you for a moment, his jaw locked, then he leaned forward with another smile that wasn’t quite a smile, “You’re right. Maybe I should just be more like you. Watching weird movies on repeat and burning through twelve boxes of tissues and talking about it with anyone who stands too close to me.”

“Yes!” You nodded with a smile, “Exactly! Let it out!”

“I’m trying to be mean to you.” Bucky replied. “I’m very obviously not going to do that.”

“Why not??” You asked.

Bucky gave you a deadpanned look, “Because I have a penis.”

You stared back at him for a moment before speaking in a deep, mocking, grumpy tone, “’My name is Bucky Barnes and I have a penis, blah, blah, and I won’t talk about my feelings, blah, blah’,” Bucky’s lips twitched up in the corner to form a smirk, “’And I wanna set trash cans on fire or something, blah.’”

Bucky glanced away, steeling his features, then looked back to you, “Doll, I watched you spill a $30 glass of whiskey on a guy.”

“Jesus, it cost him $30?? Who pays that much for a drink??” You pressed. Bucky tilted his head slightly and you cleared your throat and straightened your back as you spoke with dignity, “I mean, maybe that’s just one of my moves, Barnes.”

Bucky nodded, “Mhmm.”

You gave him a bright grin, but the conversation was interrupted when someone suddenly sat beside you. It was a curly haired guy that you had seen speaking with Peter earlier in the night. One of his friends who was also in a band of some kind or another. He leaned on the bar with a smirk, “Hey.”

“Hi.” You replied nervously, your eyes darted to Bucky who gave you a nod. Encouraged you introduced yourself.

The guy asked if you wanted to find a booth and you rose eagerly and followed his lead. Bucky watched you walk across the bar toward a back booth. He wasn’t crazy about any of Peter’s band friends. They were all assholes, and he was a bit hesitant to let you walk away with one. You suddenly turned and shot him a thumb’s up while mouthing, ‘oh yeah’. When you turned back to the guy, Bucky chuckled to himself with a shake of his head.

To be honest, he was surprised to see how okay you seemed to be. It had been a couple weeks since your boyfriend cheated on you and yet here you were trying to get back on the horse. It had been six months since him and Elektra broke up and he was still drunk dialing her.

Bucky reached under the bar to grab his phone and shot off a brief text asking if Elektra could get them into the Stark party. She was one of the assistants that worked there, and she usually got them in every year.

Ten minutes later, Peter and Sam circled back around, and both were surprised to see you in the corner booth talking to a guy. Peter nodded, “Damn, that’s Jonny. Look at her go. What a pull.”

“Jonny is a tool.” Sam replied.

“Yeah, but rebound sex is rebound sex.” Peter replied. Sam opened his mouth to argue, but Peter whipped around to face Bucky, “One last time. I am begging—”

Bucky interrupted him, “I already texted Elektra. She got us in.” Sam’s eyes widened in surprise before narrowing skeptically. Peter on the other hand let out a squeal of excitement and then lunged his top half over the bar to hug him. Bucky hugged back briefly, but as Peter pulled back, he felt a kiss on his shoulder. Bucky motioned to him, “Did you just kiss me on the arm?”

“Yes.” Peter replied unashamedly. “You deserve it.”

A couple more minutes passed before you ran over while Jonny left. All eyes shot to you and you pumped your fist in excitement, “Guess who has a date!” The men cheered for you and you gave Peter and Sam high fives. “Yeah, I just spoke in short sentences, didn’t wave my arms around, and then I told him I want rebound sex—”

Bucky’s eyes widened, “You what??”

“—and then he asked me out!” You jumped in place. “Tomorrow is date night!”

Peter shook his head and yanked your forward into a hug, “I’m so proud of you. Our little girl is all grown up.”

Jonny wasn’t your soulmate by any means, but a date was a date. This was a very good step in the right direction and you were beyond excited to move your thoughts away from your ex.

The loft was silent as five people sat in the living room staring at one another. Well, more accurately four men were staring at one gorgeous, red headed model. Natasha Romanoff sat in a recliner facing the couch while her best friend’s new roommates sat across from her staring—no, gawking.

She crossed her legs, “Do the shoes fit?”

From your in the back she heard a loud thud then you yelled back that you were alright. Natasha turned her attention back to the men in front of her. The one named Clint gave her a small nod, “You a model or something?”

“Yes.” She replied slowly. “Mostly print right now so…”

Peter, sitting between Bucky and Sam, sat forward, “You said it was Natasha?” She didn’t reply. He smirked and Bucky began to roll his eyes before words even left the blond’s mouth. “Tell me, what are your hopes and dreams?” Natasha narrowed her eyes at him. He shifted in his seat, “Are you—Are you warm? It’s a little—”

“Don’t.” Bucky said firmly, but Peter was already shrugging out of his shirt. “I said—”

Peter threw the shirt behind him, “I’m a little warm right now.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow at him, “Please put your shirt back on. Don’t make me laugh at you.”

“Can i get you a drink? Coffee? Water? Some tea?” Peter questioned. Sam and Bucky were both just staring at him now while Clint just continued to gawk at her in stunned silence. Peter nodded, “Some tea bag action.”

Sam nodded, “There it is. Douchebag.”

“Got it.” Bucky reached over to grab the jar and slapped it into Peter’s chest making him yelp in pain while trying to dig out dollar bill from his jeans.

Natasha just watched the interaction and wondered what exactly you had gotten yourself into. The red head uncrossed her legs and leaned forward slightly, with a smile she knew was more menacing than charming, “Listen to me. That girl back there is my best friend. The greatest person to walk this planet. An angel.” She laced her fingers together while Bucky took the, now one dollar heavier, jar and placed it back on the shelf. “If you guys let anything happen to her, if you hurt her, I am going to come here and crazy murder you.”

The men all bobbed their heads in agreement. Sam respected the loyalty, Bucky was a little fearful because the woman definitely had eyes that screamed, ‘I’ve killed someone before’, Clint fell a little more in love, and Peter… well, Peter.

“I’m gonna be honest with you.” Their resident idiot started again. “I did not hear a word you said because I can kind of see your party hats right now through that dress.”

Bucky sighed, “There we go.” He leaned over to grab the jar and gave it back to Peter. “Just hold onto that until she leaves, yeah?”

Natasha called out for you and stood to seek you out. She distinctly heard Sam question why Peter was talking this way while she walked out. When she opened the first door on the right in the hallway she came face to face with you lying sprawled out on the floor wearing pajamas and her heels.

You sat up partially to see Natasha standing in the door staring at you quizzically. You gave her a tight smile, “Nat! I fell and I can’t get up. I think I live here now.”

“Okay, let’s go.” Natasha walked over and helped you sit up. “You okay?”

“No.” You groaned and buried your face into your hands, “I can’t go on a date. What if it’s horrible?? What if I have nothing to talk about??”

Natasha reached forward to grip your chin, “Then you go to the bathroom, you call me, and  I show up to rescue you.”

“Maybe I just shouldn’t go.” You mumbled. The excitement from last night had simmered as you sobered up and all day today your nerves just grew and grew and grew.

“Babe, you got hurt.” Natasha replied. “That doesn’t mean you stop trying.”

Natasha was right. She was always right. From the moment you met her in the 7th grade, you knew she was right. The red head been there for you through thick and thin and you had been there for her. It took several days to convince her not to actually murder your ex-boyfriend because you didn’t want to have to hang out with her in jail instead of your favorite coffee place.

She looped her arm through yours and dragged you into your closet to change. Fifteen minutes later, you were all dolled up and feeling confident. Your friend had a very good way of turning your mess into something special. Natasha was gorgeous, and an amazing model, but you always felt like her talents were wasted. She’d make such a good stylist or designer. You turned to her and gave her a tight lip smile, “Thanks, Nat. You’re the best.”

“I know.” She replied with a quick hug. “Now go knock your date dead and if he hurts you—”

“You’ll knock him dead. I know, I know.” You laughed.

Stark parties were known for being loud, crowded, and wild. The billionaire knew how to throw them that was for damn sure. For someone like Peter who thrived on huge crowds and large music, it was paradise. For someone like Bucky who liked day drinking in an uncrowded bar, this was kind of a nightmare. Still, his friends enjoyed it and he could usually have a good time as long as his friends did. Maybe he could be a little more like you and find a rebound himself.

The theme tonight was ‘Wild, Wild West’. Bucky wore his normal clothes, Sam wore his normal clothes, but with a cowboy hat, Clint had a bundle of rope wrapped around his torso which made him look more like a rock climber than a cowboy, and Peter was decked out in full outlaw costume.

“Oh, there she is. Go get us in.” Peter slapped his chest and Bucky shot him a glare.

Like Peter had said, his ex-girlfriend stood outside the doors by the line waiting for them. She looked great tonight. Elektra hadn’t dressed in costume. Instead she had on a tight, red mini dress with her dark hair pulled up into a long ponytail. Bucky swallowed the nervous lump in his throat and wandered over. His friends stayed a few steps back.

“El.” He greeted awkwardly. “Hey.”

“Bucky.” She beamed. “It’s nice to see you. I was happy to get a text from you while you were sober rather than a 3 AM drunk dial.”

Bucky waved off her words, “Drunk dial? No. You must be getting pranked or something. That wasn’t me.”

“I have caller ID, Buck.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, “Anyways, so the party?”

“Let me go talk to the bouncer and I’ll get you guys in.” She gave him a soft look, “Then maybe me and you can catch up?”

The logical side of him said that was a bad idea, but every single other side was thrilled. He nodded and watched her walk over to the bouncer. As he turned around to let the others know what was going on, some of Peter’s asshole buddies wandered up. The two loud men greeted them, and Bucky suddenly recognized one of them.

“You’re Jonny.”

“That’s me! What up, my man—”

Bucky demanded to know where you were. The others stiffened while all eyes shot to the curly haired man. “Did your date already end or did you bring her?”

Jonny shook his head, cowboy hat nearly falling off, “Who?”

Sam snapped your name at the man, then added, “The girl from last night.”

“Ohhh, yeah.” He laughed, “Look, I was just looking for a hook up. She was texting me all day long. Constantly. I didn’t want nothing to do with that.”

Clint crossed his arms, “And you told her this?”

“No. Why would I?”

“So, she’s just at the restaurant alone waiting for you?!” Sam cried out.

Jonny shrugged and Bucky had to physically resist the urge to punch the man. God, this was awful. Your had been so excited for the date. Your friend had gotten you all dressed up and now you were alone somewhere being stood up. Bucky shook his head, “Come on, guys. We gotta go.”

“But—But the party?” Peter motioned behind him.

“Pete.” Clint said. The outlaw of a man nodded once in agreement. Bucky glanced over his shoulder, spotting Elektra still talking to the bouncer, then sighed. You needed them and they didn’t leave a roommate behind.

You sat at the table, eating your third basket of bread, and wondering if your water glass was deep enough to drown yourself in. This was probably one of the more pathetic moments of your life. Stood up by a guy who played tambourine in whatever band he was in. Jonny hadn’t been your type, but a rebound was just about getting back on the bike, right? Well, you had jumped onto the bike only to immediately ride out into traffic and get hit by a semi.

The waitress began to make her way back to you and you couldn’t help but sink in your seat a little. Maybe she wouldn’t see you. The woman stopped in front of you and picked up the empty bread basket with a frown, “Ma’am, I’m sorry, but I’m gonna have to ask you to give up the table now.”

“Can I get…one more bread basket?” You mumbled.

“No.”

You nodded in understanding and went to grab your purse. Before you could stand from your chair though, you heard yelling at the front and suddenly four familiar faces ran into the upscale restaurant. Sam was in a cowboy hat, Clint was carrying rope around his chest, and Peter was literally dressed like a space cowboy of some kind. Bucky looked like Bucky though. The four of them ran over to your table yelling that they were here and you laughed.

“We’re here. Sorry we’re late.” Bucky said to the waitress.

“You’re her date? All of you?”

Sam nodded, “Yes. We are her boyfriends.”

“One isn’t enough for her.” Clint shrugged. “We’re sister wives, but the male version.”

“Brother husbands?” Peter supplied.

You chuckled, but you could feel your eyes watering at the sight of them. Bucky leaned his hands on the chair in front of you and shook his head, “Doll, that guy was an asshole.” The other guys nodded and chimed in agreement. “He’s missing out.”

��You guys skipped your party to come and see me?”

“Course.” Bucky answered. “We care about you. We like you.”

Sam nodded and sat down at the chair to your left, “You’re family. Whether you like it or not.”

“I do like it.” You said, holding back tears. “I like it a lot.”

Peter dropped down into the chair on your right, “Besides, it’s Stark. He’ll always throw another party. It’s kind of what the guy is known for.”

Clint pulled a chair away from a table beside you, ignoring the glares from the couple sitting there, and brought it to the table to sit while Bucky took the chair he had his hands on. The guys picked up menus and began to look them over and you felt your chest swell in happiness. You didn’t think it was possible to be so happy considering how sad you had been just moments before. You liked these guys, and knowing they liked you enough to take care of you like this just made you so soft.

Bucky caught your eye, and he gave you a smile. Not a tense one, not an awkward one or a half grimace like you had seen, he gave you a real smile that made his entire face brighten. The kind that up until now you only saw the guys pull out of him. It made you feel like you belonged, “We got your back, doll.”

“Hey, guys.” Clint said slowly and looked up from his menu, “Yeah, I can only afford the tap water here.”

Sam flipped his menu over and his eyes widened, “Jesus, that’s excessive for a salad.”

You nodded, “It’s stupid expensive. That’s why I’ve only eaten the bread.”

“Alright,” Bucky tossed the menu onto the table, “Pizza at the loft?”

There was a chorus of agreements and everyone rose from the table. You stood and when Sam held one arm out to you, you didn’t hesitate to fold into his side for a hug. The boys walked you out of the restaurant while Clint told some story about his odd job yesterday and while the others laughed at his expense all you could do was bask in the warmth they radiated. You always thought the best part of the loft was the open floor plan, but as it turns out, the best part was the adopted family you accidentally fell into.

[astranite]

WIP Late-Wednesday

Scott needed help. Scott asks for help even if its just a little thing.

This is a part of a scene I've had in my mind for a while that follows my fic Close Call. Ao3. Probably is still comprehensible if you havent read it but like also look more earth and sky!! So here a rough partial version though its got a fair amount to it and words for a wip Wed so here!! Enjoy the earth and sky moment.

---

Scott let out a growl of frustration, flapping his hand about in an attempt to dislodge the tape. A foolish attempt, he found, as it flipped around and stuck to the other side of his hand. So now it was sticking! It hadn't before to the point and clearly the adhesive wasn’t the problem, it was very effective except at going where he wanted it!

He wadded up another ball of the athletic tape to join the other attempts. At this rate he was going to run out before he managed to get any to stick where he wanted it. He was trying to take care of his shoulder and do all the right things. He’d done his physio exercises each morning with Gordon after their respective swim and run so he wouldn’t forget and Gordon would tell him if he thought he was pushing himself too hard. He’d worn the sling, even though he hated having an arm immobilised. 

He really was for once trying to take care of himself  because he’d actually listened to Virgil even when it took both of them having a sobbing breakdown for it to stick, but the entire universe seemed dead set against it. The ugly, beige tape and bits of paper backing stared up at him from where they were strewn across his bathroom counter. A couple had even landed in the sink. Scott averted his eyes, same as he’d done from the mirror, staring instead at his bare feet. There was yet another failed attempt fallen down there.  The blue polish from when he’d let Gordon paint his nails was still stuck to them. He wriggled his toes into the fluffy bathmat in an attempt to distract himself.

As he rolled his right shoulder backwards, the joint popped and clicked. It had healed up alright after he’d dislocated it weeks back so Virgil and Grandma were finally letting him back on active rescue duty. Not just light duty protocols where he wasn’t even allowed out of One no matter how much he ached to help properly. Virgil’s firm commands and the memory of his terrified anger, along with the way John’s eyes had widened, expression crumpling the one time he’d almost moved had kept him in his seat.

Scott pulled his shirt back on. At least now he wasn’t gasping in pain every time he had to manoeuvre his arm into the sleeve. His shoulder was pretty much back to its usual level of dull hurt if he overworked it and sharp stabs if he did something really weird. Virgil had also informed him when he accidentally said this that it wasn't normal for it to hurt all the time at all without a current injury. So that was something too.

His feet took him to the lounge room where he knew Virgil would be painting right now, what was left of the roll of tape in hand. He let himself walk up to Virgil’s easel, like this was totally normal, like he wasn’t doing anything new, or unprecedented. There was nothing to be nervous about. He bit at the inside of his cheek.

A deep breath in, let it out. Then: “Hey Virge.”

Virgil immediately looked up from his stunning landscape of the island, brows nearly meeting in the middle.

Yup very normal, Scott. Virgil the musician totally wouldn't notice how his voice was a pitch higher than usual.

“What’s up?” Virgil began cautiously.

Scott balled his hands into fists before consciously relaxing them. 

QOUTE 

QUOTE

The memories played back in his mind. He could just ask.

“Virgil, I need your help?”

It came out as more of a question than Scott had meant. He was ready to stuff the words back down his throat in the second of silence that followed.

His brother stiffened minutely, grip tightening around his paintbrush. But then he smiled up at Scott, putting the brush into cloudy turquoise water in the jar.

“Sure, what with?”

Oh. 

Like that Virgil was ready to help him.

Scott head spun, he’d been holding his breath and he let it out shakily. Why the hell was this harder than jumping out of One? He was just asking Virgil for help with what was objectively a small task and it wasn’t like they didn’t ever help patch each other up and check over gear on missions. But this time it was him approaching and doing the asking.

“My shoulder, I’ve been trying to strap it up for today, like you said.” He waved the tape around vaguely.

Virgil settled a hand on his uninjured shoulder, grounding him with the weight. 

Scott let himself lean into it. Impulsively, he tipped forward so he could hug his brother press their foreheads together. 

Virgil’s deep brown eyes widened in surprise before softening at the edges.

He rested a warm hand at the back of Scott neck, smiling at him.

“I’m happy to help.”

Scott closed his eyes, letting the relief sink in and hope to fix this moment in his mind so next time it was something big he’d remember this.

[the-offside-rule]

Charles Leclerc (Scuderia Ferrari) - Blame Game

Requested: on wattpad

Prompt: Y/n and Charles always get into arguments and she ends up leaving the apartment

Warnings: angst

"You know, you can be so tiresome sometimes!" Charles shouted. Y/n folded her arms and sat down on a chair, existing while Charles yelled over and over again, I say existing because she wasn't even listening to the utter bullshit that he was saying. Nothing had been going to plan for him it seemed an for some reason, he kept taking everything out on her. "I just think you should be here for me! You should support me! Do you understand what I'm saying?" He paused awaiting an answer and sure enough he got one. "Are you done?" She asked. Charles filled with rage again. "Did you even listen?!" She shrugged her shoulders in response. "It's just boring and predictable what you're saying so I tend not to listen to these arguments anymore."

"Stop blaming me!" Charles yelled. "I'm blaming you?! Are you serious?! You've been shouting at me for the past ten fucking minutes!" You barked back. "Well it sounds like you're blaming me!" You laughed hysterically upon hearing his whack ass excuse. "If we are judging what we're saying on how we sound, then it sounds like everything going on is my fault." Charles gulped down. He knew that when you quietly complained about something, you were beyong angry and that you would more than likely lash out. "Tell me the exact quote that I blamed you, the exact quote Charles Marc Hervé Perceval Leclerc." She said his full name, he knew he was in deep shit now. "Y/n, let's just talk-"

"No! You just said I blamed you, I did not once blame you for shit! I don't have to be here, I could have walked away but I didn't because I'm still stupid enough to love you!" Her bottom lip trembled after she stopped shouting. She was on the verge of tears. "Y/n, I'm-"

"No Charles! I'm done! I'm finished this time!" She said standing up and grabbing her keys from the coffee table. "Mon coeur? Where- where are you going?" he asked following her like a lot puppy. "Don't you mon coeur me! You weren't sweet talking me a few minutes ago!" Charles grabbed her hand. "Don't go. Please don't go!" he pleaded. Y/n scoffed and snapped her hand back. "No Charles! I won't sit here an dplay the blame game, just grow the fuck up!" Charles was gobsmacked, absolutely lost for words. "So you're leaving? You're leaving me for good?" Y/n just stared at him.

"I'm not going to leave for good, God knows that but I'm going to ask you a question and I want an honest answer Charles. Who do you love more, me or that car?" Charles was stuck. He loved Y/n, he really did but that Ferrari was everything if not more than he'd ever wanted. "Y/n, I-" he paused, still battling with his head for an answer but the reluctant response was the only answer she needed. "Listen, I'll be back when you sort yourself out. I promise." she smiled. Charles just looked at her. He was losing her but they both knew that and that's where it was different. "I'll always be here to talk, I just won't be your girlfriend." She hesitantly placed a soft kiss onto his cheek and smiled. "But hopefully if we just figure things out, we can change that."

"You know I love you, right?" She nodded her head. "And I love you too. I'll see you around Charles." and with that, she left Charles in the apartment with a lot to think about. What led up to this? What was he going to do to fix it? All these things he needed to answer, but he of course had to answer them with time.