#i spent almost 2 years annoying my friends about him as much as i could and i will continue

[a-heart-that-believes]

you could say i am a small fan of rouxls kaard

[gilverrwrites]

Call me Tim

Tim Drake/Reader, 2K

[Say his name, P2] AN: I did not expect part 1 to be se well recieved, here hoping part 2 was worth the wait! CWs: Breach of trust, teasing, semi-public foreplay, mildly stalker-ish behaviour on Tims part.

Tim had always told himself that fucking his fans was not a thing for him. Not a kink. Bernard was different, he just had so much passion. He would have been into him regardless of whatever he was fixated on.

Then you happened.

Ever since he’s been telling himself that it was coincidence, not causation. And again, he liked you before he found out you’d spent your formative years kissing cutouts of him. Well, he doesn’t know that part for sure, but he liked to imagine it. Point being; your adolescent crush on him was not the driving force behind his attraction to you.

But as he found himself plotting ways to naturally bump into you as Tim Drake-Wayne, it was becoming increasingly harder to deny that he maybe was, a little bit, kind of into it.

Hitting you up online? Too out of the blue.

Turning up at your house? Way too much.

Then one night the perfect opportunity arose. He’d overheard you making plans to meet some friends at an uptown bar later that week. He wasn’t scheduled to patrol that night. Despite the logical part of his brain telling him it was a creepy move, he just couldn’t pass up the chance. Red Robin had to be so cautious around you, but if you hit it off with Tim he could let a little loose around you.

That’s how he’s ended up sitting on the table adjacent to yours, listening in on your private conversation and praying you wouldn’t recognise him before he was ready.

“So have you guys ever had someone ask you to call them by a different name when you’re… you know?” He nearly coughs on his drink, sitting bolt upright as though it will help him hear better. He trusts you not to spill on who the guy is. You’d had that conversation already, but he wants to hear you say Tim again.

“What like ‘Daddy’? Yeah, my ex was into that.”

“No.” Your voice has grown so quiet, laced with a sheepish laugh just like the morning you’d confessed about your crush to him. God, he wishes he could turn around and look at your face. He’d bet you’re all flustered. “Like, another actual man’s name?”

“No, hon. That’s weird.”

“Who’s the guy? Whose name?”

“You don’t know him.” You shut down the first question. He bets your fidgeting, looking at anything other than your friends as you consider your next words cafeully. “But he wanted me to call him Tim. As in, Tim Drake.”

“That’s really weird. Did he know you used to be down bad for him?”

He knows it's mean to turn around now, and worse, risky. Liable to scare you away but it’s so worth it to see the five stages of grief cross your face in the span of 3 seconds when you notice him. You're like a starstruck deer in the headlights as the word “yeah” dies on your lips. If he cupped your cheeks right now, he's certain the heat would burn away any remnants of his fingerprints.

The whole table falls silent as one by one, your friend’s clue into the situation. If it weren’t for their sickly amused smiles, and the foley of the bar, you’d think the world has stopped turning. You wish the world would stop turning.

He’s staring at you with an almost impish smile and your fight, flight, or freeze kicks in. You opt for stuttering “I have to piss!” As you abruptly leave the table.

I have to piss. You just bumped into The Tim Drake, and the first things he heard from your mouth were that you’d called his name while hooking up with someone, and I have to piss.   

The queue to the solo bathroom in this place is always long, and usually you’d be annoyed but tonight you’re grateful for the extra time to compose yourself, or you would be if you apparently hadn’t been followed.

“So, is he your boyfriend?” Where the fuck had he come from? You hadn’t seen him approach at all.

“He’s…” Not, not your boyfriend. You see each other at least weekly, sometimes you cook for him, and he often brings you gifts. However, you’ve never had that conversation, you don’t even know who he is under the mask. You don’t have his phone number. Despite multiple sexual encounters, you hadn’t even seen him naked. Now that you think about it, there’s a definite power imbalance in whatever you have. “Why?”

You’re much more defensive of his teasing than you are with Red Robin. Understandable, you didn’t really know Tim, and he’s really hit you out of left field. This is all turning out a bit crueller than he’d intended, but he can’t bring himself to stop. Your apprehension tonight is as tempting as your timidness had been last time. It’s like he’s trying to seduce you on hard mode.

“Just tryin’ to find out if it would be appropriate to buy you a drink, maybe ask you to dance?” He sounds off. Not like he does in the TV interviews and podcasts you’d heard him on, but still familiar. It’s hard to focus on, however, because he’s standing so close. Close enough for you to smell the fresh sweetness of his aftershave, for you to see the features you’ve been fantasising about up close.

“This place doesn’t have a dance floor.”

“We could go to another place.”

“Oh no buddy, I’m not going to any secondary locations.” He can’t help the smile that crosses his lips. You remembered his safety tip. He just hopes it reads as anything other than prideful to you right now. “Don’t think for a second just cause you heard what you heard that I’m gonna fall all over you.”

“Buddy? You can call me Tim.” The obvious innuendo has you cracking a genuine smile. Your nerves are still apparent from the way you're tapping your fingers against your thigh, and your refusal to make meaningful eye contact with him but he’s chipping at your walls. There's four people waiting ahead, and he wonders if he can breach your shields completely before it's your turn. “Or if it makes you feel better you could call me whatever that other guy’s name is.”

“Is this how you get people to sleep with you? You tease them relentlessly until they give up just so you’ll go away when it’s over?”

“Ouch.” You have a point, he’s never behaved like this before. He’s always been a self-confessed smartass, but you just bring out something especially brazen within him. Something wicked. He’s being a jerk, but you’re chewing your lips and sneaking awed glances at him, which implies you’re more into it than you’d admit. “Am I not what you expected?”

He probably would live up to your expectations had this been your real first meeting. If he wasn’t already comfortable around you, he’d be enamoured by your appearance, too skittish to match your keen whit or ask about your hobbies, not when you look at him with those eyes. If anything, the typical Tim Drake persona might even bore you by rambling on about detective novels or WayneTech.

“You’re why people say you should never meet your heroes.”

“Okay, fine.” Maybe he had gotten a bit carried away messing with you. “Can I just ask you one more thing, and then I’ll go away, or buy you a drink? Whatever you want.”

Your eyes drift up to the ceiling as you consider his offer. It’s not an uncommon tick for people to have, but it’s certainly more endearing when you do it. Eventually, you nod, conceding to him and offering real, esrnest eye contact. You’re still willing to hear out your favourite celebrity, and a pang of guilt at once again abusing his authority thrums through his chest.

It doesn’t stop him from asking, however. “What clued this guy into your crush on me?”

“Pictures.” You frown, still not breaking eye contact. Something is different. The nervous energy you’ve been emanating since he’d followed you to the line has subsided, replaced by something tantalisingly self-assured.

“Pictures of what?”

He tries to pry but you give him nothing.

“Of you.”

“What kind of pictures.”

The answers here don’t matter to him anyway, he already knows. He’s just trying to segue into a specific set of questions.

“Just, pictures.”

“How ambiguous.” Here’s his chance to try and satisfy that burning fantasy. “Did you practice kissing on them?”

“What? No.” Your tense shoulders say otherwise. “Why would you even ask that?”

“I don’t know.” Perfect. He gives his best noncommittal shrug before leaning in closer, balancing his weight on the wall behind you until the distance between your bodies is closed. He can still pick up hints of your body wash, but it’s washed out but the smell of a parfum that he wishes he could spray on his pillows at night. “Thought I’d offer you the real thing to compare.”

Your response isn’t what he’s expected, but it is what he’s hoped. Your lips press softly against the corner of his lips, and he can’t stop from locking a hand on your hip, not to force anything further, but to stop you from backing away. Although, the wall he has you partly confined against has been doing a pretty good job thus far.

He needn’t bother, however, because it doesn’t take long for you to grow more confident. This is the moment he’s been waiting for.

His mouth parts at the first sign of your tongue and you eagerly explore his mouth. He tastes like IPA, hoppy and warm. Your hands boldly play across his chest, until you fist the fabric of his shirt and tug him closer, deepening the kiss until he moans into your open mouth.

Your sudden boldness is doing things for him. Head spinney, dick hard things. Thoughtlessly, he ruts his hips, rubbing his clothes cock against your lower abdomen until you pull away with a laugh. It’s his turn to be nervous. You’re looking at him with something fierce and canny.

“Excuse me.” A clearly unamused man interjects himself between your embrace to point at the bathroom. “Are you waiting?”

“Oh, yeah.” Tim is surprised by your chipper poise, as you smile politely at the man. He’s even more surprised when you hook your fingers into the give of his leather belt and proceed to drag him with you into the cubicle, locking him inside with you as you offer thanks to the stranger.

“What are you doing?”

“Comparing with the real thing.”  You grace him with another, hard kiss, backing him against the door. Your tongue is hot against his already heated skin as you hurriedly work it along his jaw and neck. He remembers how you’d looked when you’d first noticed him earlier and wonders if his burning face looks equally as nonplussed as he lets you have your way with him against the bathroom door.

He hisses when you plunge your fingers below his belt once more, this time unbuckling it. You’ve fucking cracked, he must have broken something in your brain. There’ll be exaggerated stories about this all over the Gotham Globe’s home page tomorrow. Hell, if he cares though.

“You’ve changed your tune.” He comments, bucking his hips, helping you free him from his boxers. Your fingers lock around his base, and it throbs at finally being touched by you. He’s wanted so badly to fuck you for months but as Red Robin, he’s had to be careful, had to put his guard up which had resulted in a very altruistic sex life. But Tim Drake could fuck you. Right here, right now, Tim Drake-Wayne would fuck whatever hole you’d give him and the thought of it has him losing composure fast.

Your lips lock in one last frenzied kiss before you drop to your knees, and you look like an Angel sent from hell, looking up at him from beneath his reddened cock, with heady eyes and salacious smile.

“So, Red.” Shit. His heart skips a beat. Shit. Shit. Shit. He’s not sure what gave him away, but he doesn’t have a chance to care before you spit on his dick and start to pump with a deliberate rhythmic pace that has his head rolling back against the door. He’s not sure if he wishes he’d never done this at all, or if he’d done it sooner. “What name should I use tonight?”

[acanthawrites]

Found on quora - don’t ask me about my google searches, sometimes in the middle of a the night I just need answers.

Why do fandoms ship SasuNaru?

SHORT ANSWER: because Naruto and Sasuke's relationship is the most developed of the entire manga and because Kishimoto doesn't know how to write good female characters.

A LONGER ANSWER NEEDS TO TAKE INTO ACCOUNT MORE DETAILS.

The two presumed love interests of the show, Hinata and Sakura, are more often than not, shallow lovesick girls who didn't do anything to really build up their relationship with Naruto and Sasuke. Hinata was always hidden behind a tree stalking him, keeping the distances, even when Naruto needed a friend more than anything else. She was “shy", ok, I get it, but her attitude is incredibly annoying, especially since she had such a good introduction. She could've been so much more than a cute girl serving as human shield when the narrative needed her to.

Sakura chased after Sasuke all the time, confessing her love left and right, but she never really took into account the guy's feelings towards her. When she was little, she even asked Sasuke to bring her with him to carry out his revenge plans. Naruto, even as a young boy, never contemplated such a choice, because he wanted Sasuke to be happy and healthy and he knew that, by severing all his bonds, Sasuke would've fallen into darkness and despair even further. That's the difference between the obsessive kind of love showed by Sakura and the completely selfless kind of love showed by Naruto. Even to this day, Sakura is merely chasing after her adolescent crush. She didn't even have the time to actually get to know Sasuke since, after the war, the guy was away from the village for 2 years, then when they reconnected he almost immediately impregnated her and after 1–2 yrs at best, he went MIA again, on a super secret mission that prevented him to return home even once in 9 yrs… He couldn't write trivial letters to his family, but was in contact with Naruto all the time, communicating crucial Intel for the village (sharing classified info isn't supposed to be more difficult than writing personal stuff to a wife?). Sasuke didn't even recognize his daughter's face when he saw her... So much for a beautiful love story! At least, Naruto and Hinata actually spent time together, before becoming husband and wife and after, as a family with two beloved children.

The point is: had kishimoto written his female leads a little bit better, their role as realistic love interests would've been more widely accepted and even welcomed. There's no particolar need to “ship” two male characters together, so if many people do it with this particular “couple”, is because Naruto and Sasuke's relationship is far from being the mere byproduct of trivial fetishization.

Now, clearly shonen manga aren't, usually, concerned with pairings and relationships; nobody really wanted or expected romance to be the main focus of the story, but kishimoto spent a hell of a lot of time describing in fine details the love between Naruto and Sasuke, filling the narrative surrounding them with symbolism and tropes usually found in romantic literature. Just to mention some:

Spiderman horizontal “kiss" (after Sasuke collapsed at the end of the first VOTE fight);

thinking about the other in bed, or under the starry night sky with a hand on the chest, wishing to be reunited soon;

declaring the intention of dying together;

Noticing the compatibility of fire and wind as elements that always amplify and compliment each other;

Begging on the knees, in front of the Raikage, to avoid the other’s execution;

having a full blown panic attack at the thought of the other being executed;

Never giving up on saving the other even when everybody else already did;

I could go on, but the point is:

Why did Kishimoto portray this relationship in a purposefully ambiguous fashion?

There isn't a clear cut answer even after years. It's possible that the author liked to '’troll” the audience by leaving some suggestive images here and there… Heck, he even drew a wholeass front-page with Naruto and Sasuke wearing necklaces with each other's face on them! But simple fan service doesn't cut it for me. I don't think it was just that.

Kishimoto decided to write a love story from the beginning to the end, however it was a platonic love between two people of the same sex.

It was platonic because Kishimoto never stated anything different: his original idea of making Naruto and Sasuke a couple is just fake news spread by a Spanish forum that became viral for obvious reasons.

It wasn't even a brotherly love, however, since Naruto himself said that, despite the whole reincarnations thing, he is not Ashura and Sasuke is not Indra. Their relationship is unique, infact, it didn't end in tragedy like the other ones. They didn't grew up as brothers from the start, they learned to love and understand eachother through years of suffering and pushing-pulling.

Naruto is Sasuke's most important person, his one and only… while Sasuke is for Naruto the ideal he always attempted to reach. Their relationship is perfectly balanced, because they push each other to be better, neither is the doormat of the other, while their marriages are very unbalanced, with passive and submissive wives who see them as Gods.

So in the end, this love story between two men is something bound to create confusion among the fans. Kishimoto didn't avoid to make things complicated and allusive since the very beginning of the manga (two rivals kissing is obviously just for comedic purposes, but it definitely set the tune for other events. Sasuke even remembered this kiss when he was convinced Haku had killed him, almost as it was an episode he actually gave some thought to). It's all a matter of interpretation: fans can see more than just a friendship or something different than brotherly affection because the author purposefully drew/wrote questionable situations/dialogues. However, it was never Kishimoto's intentions to make SasuNaru a canon couple. Especially since the next gen needed to be created and two gay men can't have biological children togheter anyway.

Sasuke and Naruto are soulmates and they don't need to share a carnal relationship to be the best love story of the manga.

At the end of the day, I think this was Kishimoto's plan all along (or at least since Sasuke's introduction): writing about the most powerful kind of love one can think of, capable of surviving everything, even unrelenting hatred.

People can easily see this concept as something else and I myself would've loved a NaruSasu ending, to be quite honest, but what we need to refer to, while discussing this kind of topics, is always canon material. Canonically, Naruto and Sasuke are two heterosexual males, married with children.

[dreamsinarcadia]

Mistletoe

In which Heungmin and his best friend find themselves under the mistletoe over the years (and he’s pretty much to blame for it)

pairing: sonny x bestfriend!reader

warning: fluff fluff fluff

Part 2 ➡️

8 years old

“Heungmin,” she ground out with barely concealed annoyance. “Give it back.”

The wishlist that had been oh so carefully curated was currently in the grubby hands of the bane of her existence - the neighborhood’s spawn of satan himself, Son Heungmin.

Okay, maybe that was a little unfair. But she was certain that the boy had made it his life’s purpose to grate her nerves from the moment they had met.

“I think the address is wrong,” he muttered, scanning the paper with narrowed eyes. “Doesn’t Santa live in the South Pole?”

“It’s the North Pole!” she snapped, reaching forward to try and snatch it from his grasp. The entirety of her morning had been spent scribbling furiously in the garden, ignoring her father’s witty comment about smoke practically pouring from her ears. There was no room for error - she would be competing with countless other children for a place in Santa’s list! This had to be perfect.

Of course, perfection was hard to achieve with Heungmin looming over like a storm cloud waiting to unleash a torrential downpour on her. Not to mention his cheeky smile almost sent her over the edge. Clearly he’d accomplished his task of annoying her for the day.

Ambling forward as smoothly as he could (a difficult task when wrapped in dozens of layers upon the insistence of his mother), he plopped down beside her and peered down at the list again.

“A book?” he balked. “Of all the things you could ask for, a book?” He’d grown to hate her newfound hobby of reading books. Ever since the new library had opened in their town, she’d been holed up between shelves of pristine books for hours on end. Heungmin wasn’t exactly fond of the new-found silence he'd become accustomed to; he always looked forward to her sarcastic commentary that always accompanied weekend night football. He missed having someone to stand in the unforgiving winter cold, clad in goalkeeper gloves (her mother’s oven mitts), and endure goal after goal as he practiced his penalty kicks and headers.

“Give it back!”

"No, I don’t think I will," he sang merrily, legs carrying him out of the porch and into the warmth of her home, dashing down the hallway up the staircase, narrowly missing a near collision with the family cat sprawled on one of the steps. He was much faster than she was and he knew it. He was faster than everyone in their grade, his height granting him an entirely unfair advantage over their peers.

"Heungmin, I’m telling your mother!" She warned as he skidded to a halt on the landing, arm practically stretched up to the heavens with her letter to Santa firmly grasped in his hand. With his other hand, he begun to rummage around in his pocket for something.

“Just give it back,” she whined pitifully, realising that her previous threats just fell on deaf ears. From beside him, she tried in vain to jump up and grab the letter from between his stupid fingers.

Grinning widely, Heungmin quickly pulled the letter away from her to hide it behind his back and replaced it with whatever he had managed to finally find in his pocket. “For the price of one kiss, you can have it back,” he offered with a cheeky smile, bringing a basil sprig between their heads.

She looked up at it, physically unable to hold back the eye roll. She’d seen plenty of adults on television sharing an intimate moment below a certain type of greenery during the holiday season. While it was a lovely tradition, it required a specific kind of a leathery-leaved plant. “That’s not even mistletoe.”

“You try finding mistletoe in Chuncheon,” he said with a shrug. “I had to make do with the next best thing.”

“Oh great, so you attacked my mother’s pot of basil leaves?”

“… please don’t tell her.”

Her brows arched in a look of defiance. “Try me.”

He wiggled the basil leaves. “Then say goodbye to your precious letter to Santa.”

Taking a step back, she cocked her head and peered up at the makeshift mistletoe in a moment of contemplation. Her options were limited, true, but it was hardly the end of the world. Just the thought of redoing the list brought her a bigger headache than Heungmin could ever induce.

And so, with tiny hands balled into fists, she took a decisive step forward and stood on her tiptoes to level their gaze.

Heungmin tried his best to mask his excitement, he really did, but nothing could have stopped the immediate bolt of lightning that struck his very being and coloured his cheeks and ears an adorable shade of pink when she yanked him forward to place a kiss on his cheek.

Taking advantage of his moment of disbelief, she reached behind him to snatch the letter from his grasp, call him an idiot and dash down the stairs with a speed that rivalled his own.

Heungmin, watching her disappear around the corner with a dopey little smile on his face, pressed the basil sprig close to his chest.

Christmas was fun.

•

Christmas fics in January? Why not? Truly a product of my own laziness. Part 2 awaits you 🥹

[lilapplesheadcannons]

r/AmITheAsshole: u/throwaway478wwx

AITA if I tell my "husband" I love him?

Throw away because my siblings and friends are here. Don't roll your eyes, please. It's very complicated. So I (34M) have been married to my incredible husband Z (34M) for the last 8 years. We went to the same high school but actually ran into different circles. Z, who was a straightA student, didn't like me and my friend circle. Things worsened after I accidentally ruined his science fair project. High school ended with bad blood between us. His older brother, who was a few years senior to us, was my sister's classmate, and he tried to mediate between us, but Z really hated me and would get huffy every time we met.

We met again in Uni. Z seemed more open to the idea of a civil relationship, and things improved tremendously once I gifted him 2 rabbits for his birthday. Z had the cutest crush on our classmate M and would get so flustered when I asked him about M.

In our final year, all of us got very drunk in a party, and I lost the drinking game. As a punishment, I was tasked with safely escorting Z back to our dorm. Just my luck, for such a calm and self-controlled person, Z is an agent of chaos when drunk. We broke into the nearby aquarium to look at the sting-rays, went into a Mcdonald where Z proceeded to buy all the chicken wings as a gift for me and tried to fight a mirror for 'staring at the love of his life'. I somehow managed to calm him down and took him back to the dorm.

Fast forward a year, M suddenly announced her relationship with someone else. I was extremely surprised, but not only Z stoically bore the news, the rest of my friends were very chill about it too. In fact, they seemed more annoyed at me for making a fuss. My angel of a sister, who never spoke a harsh word in her life, told me I was lucky I was so stinking cute.

I tried my best to support Z in this difficult time. We spent most of our free time together. In fact, I invited Z to my sister's wedding to cheer him up. Incidentally, we kinda discovered a big conspiracy to harm Z's brother and his boyfriend, and Z's family was very taken with me. His mom started to joke that she'll steal me to be her own son. Even Z's very stern uncle seemed to soften up.

Finally, M announced her wedding when we were 26. I hastily planned a trip as a means to distract Z. We backpacked and hiked. One night, we got roaring drunk and woke up the next day in bed with each other. Even worse, drunk us thought it was a good idea to apply for a marriage certificate online and make an announcement on Facebook that we were getting married. Our families were blowing up our phones. They asked us how could we do this? How could we exclude them from the happiest day of our life and not give them the chance to celebrate? Before our hungover brains could explain anything, Z's brother was dispatched to retrieve us, and our parents were looking at the wedding venue and cakes.

Our mothers combined are a force to reckon with. I tried to explain things, but mom said she thought she raised me better, and Z's otherwise very kind brother told me he'd feed me into a woodchipper if I backed out of the wedding.

Long story short, we got married that spring. We planned to let things settle a bit, but disaster struck. A friend of ours had a baby cousin whose parents suddenly passed away in an accident. The baby's nearest kin was his grandma, who was very frail and terminal, and my friend didn't have the means to support the baby. Z and I promptly applied to adopt the baby.

Our little radish is almost 9 this year. Z is not only a great dad, but he's an incredibly good husband, too. He's kind, warm, sweet, and patient. He's a wonderful cook. We are compatible in every way, and I mean every possible way. My parents love him. And I think I have fallen in love with him too. But would I be an asshole if I told him that I loved him? We have a good thing going on here. I don't want to rock the boat.

Update 1: Thank you so much for your kind words. I have decided to confess to my husband. Wish me luck.

Update 2: To the person who DMed me calling me "so dumb that light can enter through one ear and exit via another," JC, I know your writing style. Push your luck, and the whole of reddit will know what happened in our third year.

Update 3: So, I told Z that I loved him. He was reading our baby boy's half yearly report. Have I told you guys how handsome he looks with his glasses on? He raised his eyes and said, " And I love 'my name' too. Always have." So I guess that's settled? We have been in love for the last decade? That's good. Thank you for all your support. And I love you too, Jie.

[spaceyaceface]

Hatred - Safety Ch 2

Ominis Gaunt x f!Ravenclaw!Reader (Reader is not MC)

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: Dueling, very minor injury

Summary: Y/N L/N had always despised Ominis Gaunt. He was everything she hated about her life. As the only daughter to a wealthy pure-blood family, she knew it was inevitable that she would someday find herself in an arranged marriage.

But why did it have to be him?

Or, a classic arranged marriage, enemies to lovers, slow burn.

Chapter One

Also Available on AO3

Ominis had always prided himself in being able to read others’ emotions, despite his lack of sight. He could not see the expressions on people’s faces, but he could hear the subtle tones of their voices, the way their breathing changed when they tenses. He could feel the power and the passion coming off them like waves, and he had spent years tuning himself to understand it. 

That being said, it took almost no effort to know that Y/N’s feelings from that morning had not changed in the slightest. 

She was awfully short with her friend (Constance, was it?) whenever they spoke. Her breathing was deep in an effort to quell the anger flowing through her veins. He could feel her attention shifting to him, over and over again, as the class went on. 

He could feel himself getting more and more annoyed by it. 

There was nothing they could do at the moment—didn’t she see that? He wanted this over as soon as possible, but if he ditched classes and moped around, it would do nothing but put him in his parent’s bad graces. Being angry did nothing but raise your blood pressure and cause rash decisions to be made. Was it so impossible for her to put her emotions aside for a few hours?

He was being hypocritical—he recognized that. Every movement she made in her seat made his eye twitch. All he could think about her assumptions she had made of him, that he had wanted to rope her in some engagement. The thoughts floated around inside his head, making concentrating on anything but her a few seats away almost impossible. 

“You look like someone snapped your wand,” Sebastian said quietly as people broke into groups to practice spells. 

Ominis’s frown deepened, if it was even possible. “You’ll have to forgive me for being in a foul mood. I don’t think I’ll be shaking it any time soon.” 

Sebastian hummed. “She’s glaring at you. Again.” 

“You mean it hasn’t been one long, continuous glare?”

“No, she stopped for a moment to glare at something Constance said. But she got right back to it, don’t worry.” 

Ominis almost chuckled at that. “What is it that we’re even supposed to be doing? My mind was elsewhere.” 

“Changing the color of the cloth on our desk.” 

“Wonderful, I couldn’t imagine a more useful spell for the likes of me.” 

Sebastian laughed at that. The sound lessened Ominis’s dark mood a bit—it had been rarer to hear his dear friend’s laugh since Anne had fallen ill, and any chance there was so help him feel better was one worth taking. He was sorry that such misfortune had fallen to all the members of their trio this final school year. 

Anne’s absence was felt constantly. Over the years, Ominis had grown to think of her as his sister—she acted the role much better than his own older sister, Vidia, had ever done. Both she and Sebsatian had befriended him when he was afraid no one else would. He would forever be grateful for the Sallows who had so readily taken him in as one of their own. 

He sighed. He’d have to write to her. See what advice she could offer. Sebastian was always the most rash of their trio, acting on the first thought that came to his head. Ominis was often the opposite—reserved nearly to a fault. Anne was their middle ground, the level head who always considered all aspects. When he and Sebastian fought, she was able to calm them down enough to see sense and make up. Since she had gotten ill, Ominis and Sebastian had been doing their best to carry on. He knew that no matter what, they would remain like brothers, but it didn’t mean things weren’t difficult sometimes. 

He wondered if Anne would have been able to talk to Y/N. Sebastian had charm, yes, but Anne had the ability to wrap anyone she met around her finger—it was what had enabled her to get away with so much during her time in Hogwarts. If anyone had the capability to calm the beast that was Y/N Y/N, it would have been her. 

The rest of the class passed by without incident. Ominis practiced the charm very lazily, seeing as he would never have much use for it, and Sebastian neglected to practice at all, claiming he’d mastered it in his third year. It wasn’t long until the seventh year students were making their way over to Professor Hecate’s classroom for Defense Against the Dark Arts. 

Ominis sighed as they walked over, knowing he’d have to endure her glares in that class as well. He pulled out his wand to guide him, trying not to pay attention to her brooding a few steps ahead of him. Sebastian chattered on about some more advanced color-changing spells he’d studied a while back, and Ominis let his voice drown out the rest of the students around them. 

When they walked into class, Ominis realized immediately that this would be a practical lesson. The tables were all pushed aside, leaving a wide empty space to practice spells in the middle. Professor Hecate stood in front of them as they gathered around. 

“Welcome, students,” she began. “Today we’ll be learning a defensive spell. While some of you may think it less effective than other spells, I guarantee you in a duel, you’ll want every weapon in your arsenal. It has come in handy for me on more than one occasion.” 

She went on, explaining the Confundus Charm in detail—from her descriptions and the aid of his wand, Ominis was able to understand the motions, and listened carefully to her pronunciation. With his blindness, Ominis had come into the school with people expecting him to always be a few steps behind—he did all he could from his first day on to put that to rest. Say what they will about him or his family, but he wanted all to see he was a more than capable wizard. He had proven that throughout his years, catching on to spells quickly; often quicker than most in his year. 

Professor Hecate demonstrated the charm to them all (she did so by casting it on Duncan Hobhouse—this amused Ominis greatly) and then turned back to all of them. “I’ll now pair you off to practice the spell. Only Confundus, Protego, and Basic Cast, please.”

Ominis’s stomach dropped. His luck couldn’t be so horrible, could it? But as more and more names were called, names that were not his or hers, he felt the stress building within him. 

“Ominis Gaunt and Y/N L/N, if you would work together, please.” 

If there was such thing as a God, he must surely be laughing at his misery. He felt her angry presence approach him, and he stood straighter, trying to prepare himself for whatever might come. 

She didn’t say anything to him, just stood there as other students around them got to work, practicing the spell in makeshift duels. The silence annoyed him. 

“Let’s get this out of the way, then,” he said, spreading his feet a bit to give him the proper stance to duel. He heard her footsteps on the ground as she did the same. 

“Confundo,” she said lazily. The spell shot at him and he deflected easily, coming back with a basic cast. Once again, the spell bounced off the shield charm. Y/N made a low noise, almost like a growl. 

“What’s wrong with you?” she said, voice low but full of venom. “I thought you were upset. Why are you so calm?”

“Oh, I am upset,” Ominis replied. “I just don’t go about showing it off like a prefect’s badge. On the other hand, I’m surprised you’re not accusing me of telling Professor Hecate to set the two of us up.” 

“Confundo!”

He countered. He could practically hear her teeth grinding together, feeling the tension grow between them. That last spell had a bit more fire to it. She was starting to mean it. He was playing with fire, now—he should back down a bit. 

He cast Confundo back at her, and she whipped up her shield without a moment’s hesitation. She was a step closer now than she had been. “You’re a cold hearted prick,” she said, seething. 

His basic cast came at her a little more quickly than his last spells had. She just blocked it. “You know nothing about me,” he growled. 

“I know you’re a monster, set on causing pain for your pleasure, just like your family.” 

For the second time that day, Ominis found himself hearing nothing but his own blood pumping. She didn’t know what he’d been through. The regrets he had. He took out some of his hatred by throwing a spell to her—he wasn’t even sure what it was, but it didn’t matter. Her quick Protego kept it from reaching her. “Don’t speak of things you know nothing of,” he spat. “At least I’m not like you, so eager to please the rest of the world by making a sorry show of myself. You try so hard to run, but everyone still sees you as you are. Heir to a pureblood throne, just like me—” 

Most of the time, Ominis Gaunt was a man of restraint. He listened to that little voice in his head (the voice he was so keen on telling Sebastian he didn’t have) and stopped when it told him to. He knew where limits were, and how to stay away from them. He’d spent his life skirting around the edges. He knew he should stop now, before things got out of hand, before he did something he’d regret. But sometimes, sometimes, fury had a way of making that voice seem too quiet. 

“—dearest.” 

Any anger he had felt from her before had been a mere sample. He felt the magic in the air as she drew her arm back, preparing to direct it to him. It was electric—power and rage turned into one, matching the growl of her voice as she yelled, “Confringo!” 

But he’d had time to prepare. The moment that word had left his mouth, there was the instinct telling him to ready himself. His shield parted the flames that flew at him, the heat felt through it still. It was a truly masterful cast of the spell, one that Sebastian had to be jealous of. Just after the fire’s heat vanished, Ominis let his own spell fly, a powerful Depulso that sent her flying back. 

His wand lowered as he heard her fall to the ground, the realization hitting him. How had he let his rage drive him so far? She could be hurt, badly, he hadn’t meant to—

Some of his anxiety was quelled as he heard her getting back up, brushing away the hands and concerned voices that surrounded her. “I’m fine,” she insisted. “I don’t need help, I’m not hurt, I—”

“What’s going on here?” Professor Hecate said, voice booming as she stood between the two of them. Y/N was back on her feet. “Did I not instruct you on not using other spells in your duels?” 

Neither of them spoke. Ominis was still too stunned from his own actions. She seemed to feel the same. There was no defense for either of them—they had put on quite the show. They had plenty of witnesses to describe what had happened. 

“Detention,” Professor Hecate said. “Tonight, for the both of you. You’re lucky no one was hurt.” 

Ominis could only stand there in silence, hearing the hushed whispers of the other students begin to swirl around him. He hardly heard Professor Hecate when she announced class was dismissed, the other seventh years leaving the classroom quickly. 

He should apologize. Make sure she was really alright. Let her know he hadn’t meant—he never intended to—

But she was already gone, having stormed out of the classroom the moment she’d been able to. 

- 

Her side ached where she had hit the ground, but she didn’t care. Constance kept pestering her even as she repeated that.

“You should just let Nurse Blainey check it out,” her blonde friend insisted. “What if it’s worse than you think?”

“I know what a bruise feels like, Constance,” she replied shortly. Constance narrowed her eyes at her, frowning deeply. 

That was Constance. Quick to protect, but quick to get offended, too. Y/N knew how to stay on her good side after years of friendship, a skill most hadn’t been able to grasp. The two of them made quite the pair—Y/N was a bit of an outcast. Not accepted by the Slytherins or other pureblood families because of her outspokenness against that culture, and not fully embraced by the others in the school, still a bit wary of her origins. People were nice enough to her, never accusing her of following in her family’s footsteps or viewing her as a danger, but… they still kept her at an arm’s length. It was difficult to make true friends, not just ones who’d chat kindly in class then never speak to her again outside of it.  

But that’s where Constance came in. The girl was so loyal, Y/N often found herself wondering how she wasn’t a Hufflepuff. Constance had her own trouble keeping friends; she had a bit of a reputation for being short with people, feeling as if she knew best. Y/N didn’t mind. What mattered to her was that she was there when no one else was, and she knew she’d be there to the end. 

At present, Y/N sighed. “Sorry, I don’t mean to be rude to you. It’s just been… a long day.”

And it still wasn’t over. She wasn’t looking forward to her detention that night in the slightest—she’d already gotten the note from Professor Hecate, instructing both her and Gaunt to be in her classroom at eight o’clock sharp. She didn’t have much choice but to go, no matter how much she didn’t want to face the Slytherin again. 

“I know, it’s alright,” Constance replied, annoyance gone after her apology. “I still can’t believe he actually did that… if I’d had any say in all of this, I’d let you Depulso him right back.” Constance distinctly ignored the fact that Y/N had been the first to use an illegal spell in their duel, sticking firmly on her friend’s side. “He’s getting off of this much too easily. I bet he won’t even show up to detention—pull his little web of strings to get out of it.”

She sighed. “Honestly, I’d be just fine with that. Save me the trouble of seeing him again.” 

Constance grumbled a bit, something about unfair and stupid rich family. Y/N didn’t pay it much mind, simply grateful to have her by her side. 

The rest of the afternoon and evening passed in a blur. She was still angry, still frustrated about her situation, (and of course, with Ominis Gaunt) but the duel in Defense Against the Dark Arts reminded her she needed to keep a level head about all of it. What was it the infuriating boy had said? Showing it off like a prefect’s badge? She was determined to prove him wrong, and didn’t even look at him the remainder of the day. 

When eight o’clock finally rolled around, she trudged up to Professor Hecate’s classroom. She opened the door and frowned, seeing Gaunt stood just inside. Well, at least he was taking his punishment, and not backing out like a coward. She’d give him that much. 

Professor Hecate turned to both of them. “I’ll have you know that most professors would have given you detentions for at least a week—if you behave tonight, you’ll be left with just the one. Though you weren’t supposed to use those spells, I’ll grant that they were well cast. That deserves at least some merit.”

Y/N shifted on her feet, waiting for her instruction so they could get things over with. Professor Hecate led them over to her office, waving her wand to bring out high stacks of parchment. “Your task tonight is simple enough. I just need these alphabetized. It should be mundane enough to keep you out of trouble, I hope. I’ll leave you two to it and check back in an hour or so.”

After Professor Hecate left, Y/N plopped into a chair by the desk, starting immediately on the first stack. She told herself the hour would go quicker if she was absorbed in her task. Gaunt came to sit across from her, pulling out his wand to trace over the pages. She could help but glance up from time to time, wondering how exactly the magic worked. He’d first place his wand, and then his fingers would follow, brushing against the parchment. She’d seen him do it before in classes, of course, but it was a little different seeing him repeat the action again and again in front of her.

“I can feel you staring,” he said, shaking her out of her thoughts. She scowled, looking back down at the parchment she had in hand. 

Now that the silence had been broken once, it felt heavy as it laid over them. Still, she was determined that she had no need to end it. Gaunt seemed to feel differently. 

“I’m going to ask you something, and all I ask is you don’t try to set me on fire so we can avoid another detention.” No response. “Why do you despise me?”

She scoffed. “Really? You need to ask that? Was the letter I received this morning not reason enough?”

“It’s quite clear you hated me long before that letter. You just used to be more subtle about it.” 

She set down the page she was holding. “You, Ominis Gaunt, are everything I’ve ever tried to run from.” Her eyes shot up to look at him, seeing his frown deepen. “I suppose that’s one thing you got right about me. I’m no sorry coward like you, willing to give in and be driven by hate and prejudice. My parents admire your family—it’s disgusting to watch. My whole life, they’ve pushed me to be just like all of you.” Her face contorted to one of utter disgust. “I know all about you and your horrid family. Cursing Muggles and Muggleborns as if they’re not even human. Of all the pureblood lines, yours is the most rotten of all. If I could erase one blasted family from the face of the planet, it would be yours.” 

She wasn’t sure how she expected him to respond to that, but it wasn’t a quiet chuckle. Her face dropped her expression of disgust and turned to one of confusion, brows furrowed. “I see,” he said. “I figured as much. But I’d hoped after attending seven years of school together you’d have seen that the only person who hates my family more than you is myself.” 

Her jaw dropped. “You—what—”

“You’re right,” he said. “About all of it. The hate, the prejudice, the torture, even. What you’re wrong about is me agreeing with it. It disgusts me, just as it does you. Truly, the Gaunt family line is an abomination.”

“But… but you’re a Slytherin,” she said, head spinning at the revelation. 

“You really think I ever had a chance to be anything but, with his blood flowing in my veins?” He laughed bitterly. “And a Parslemouth, no less. I was doomed from the start.” 

She sat in silence, lost in thought. Was he telling the truth? Was he just trying to manipulate her, get into her good graces for… for whatever reason? She couldn’t make heads or tails of the situation. It was a several minutes later when he interrupted to quiet once again. 

“I am sorry, by the way,” he said softly. “I hope I didn’t cause you any pain or injury. I let my frustration get the best of me.” 

He… he was apologizing? In a single conversation, all of the assumptions and judgements she’d made about the boy in front of her were slowly crashing down. For so many years, she’d thought she’d had him pegged. He was the perfect heir, the Gaunt’s dear youngest son. She had never bothered to look further, to question it. It had always been her against him. 

But what if she’d gotten it wrong? What if they weren’t so different after all?

It was too big of a shift to take in all at once. Her head was spinning. What had he just been saying? Sorry—that was right. He was a Gaunt. He was supposed to be revealing in the pain he’d caused a blood-traitor. But he said sorry. 

“You…” She cleared her throat, willing her thoughts to come together to form a response. “It’s alright. I’m not hurt. I was the first one to cast Confringo at you, so…” 

Dear Merlin, was she apologizing back?

“I egged you on,” Gaunt said. “I usually know when to stop, but this whole engagement business has driven me out of my head. I shouldn’t have said the things I did.” 

She didn’t know what to say to that. They continued working, the only sound being the ruffle of pages, but most of the tension was gone. A while later, Professor Hecate came in to tell them they were free to go. They walked out of the classroom, toward the tower that held both of their common rooms in silence. He began to head down the stairs. Before she could stop herself, she called after him. 

“Gaunt.” 

He stopped, head tilting back a bit, an indication he was listening. 

“If you’re telling the truth about everything,” she started. “Which… which I hope you are, then I’m sorry, too.” 

A small smile crossed his lips. He didn’t say anything in response, just gave a bit of a nod and continued down the stairs.

-

Chapter 3

Taglist:

@phoenix666stuff

[wen-kexing-apologist]

Sorry to any of my friends on here who have heard me say this for the third time now but I cannot get over the way Utsukushii Kare shows us the ways in which negative self-perception can impact EVERYONE.

The way that Hira believes so strongly that he is unworthy of love, that he is nothing but a servant to a God that he completely writes off Kiyoi's feelings for him. The way that Hira is so comfortable in his status a whipping boy for Kiyoi just honored to even have attention because he doesn't feel that they even belong on the same planet that he is blissfully ignorant to the harm he himself is causing to Kiyoi. The way Hira thinks so poorly of himself that he promises Kiyoi that he will never meet his parents and the way the audience can see Kiyoi's heart shatter and the way Hira can't. The way Hira says "I don't want to understand you," as if that isn't the most insulting, belittling, and tragic thing you could say to someone who loves you.

Every strong emotional outburst we get from Kiyoi in Season 1 and Season 2 stems directly from Hira's absolutely dogshit self-image and always centers on the fact that Kiyoi likes him and Hira is not doing anything to acknowledge or honor Kiyoi's feelings despite Hira claiming to like and love Kiyoi.

Hira thinks of himself so far below Kiyoi that he is almost able to obliterate three years of Kiyoi feeling comfortable and safe and secure in this relationship with the man he loves with just a single sentence.

The way that Hira is so worried that Kiyoi will leave him, that he never tells Kiyoi anything, that Kiyoi doesn't get to be a partner, that Kiyoi instead has to question his relationship to Hira because Hira's friend knows more about him than Kiyoi does despite them living together, despite them loving each other. Hira does not allow himself to accept Kiyoi's love but Kiyoi doesn't know that until he has spent three years of his life loving someone that refuses to accept that love.

And it's not like Hira isn't harmed by this too, until someone outside of their relationship points it out, Kiyoi can't see the ways in which he is, intentionally or unintentionally, exploiting Hira's devotion to him. Letting Hira cook for him every night, etc. Hira gets in his own way with the photography contest because he is so disillusioned with his relationship to people that he edits them out of his photos. I really like that Hira is called selfish to his face. Because he is.

It makes me think, and I think @bengiyo said exactly the same thing in his and @shortpplfedup's podcast episode about UK, about the conversation someone had where they were discussing with a loved one of some sort that they always worried that they were annoying them or that they secretly hated them, and the loved one said "I wish you wouldn't think of me that way."

I will be interested in seeing the movie if I can ever get my hands on it, but literally my only criticism of this show in any capacity is that I wish Season 2 was 6 episodes instead of 4 because I really wanted more time to be given to Hira learning to see or starting to understand how much he has been hurting others by refusing to accept they love him.

[daisha-mochizuki]

Wally, as he lay in bed beside Dick, couldn’t stop thinking.

Both of the boys had been unwilling to let the other sleep on the couch, so they had improvised by sharing the full-size bed in Dick’s small bedroom. Neither could sleep, but they chose to stay in silence for the time being.

Wally couldn’t stop the thoughts circling his brain.

Was he not good enough?

Yes, he knew he had been trapped for years, and that Artemis had probably not been able to wait for him, but… it still hurt.

Wally turned his back to Dick instead of when he had been laying out on his back across his half of the bed. Dick also rolled onto his side, but he faced Wally. Dick reached out a tentative hand, gently touching Wally’s bare and freckled arm to try and get his attention.

“Hey…”

Dick’s voice was low and raspy from his attempt at sleep, and he pulled Wally slightly to turn the other boy so they could look at each other. Dick’s cerulean eyes bore into Wally’s peridot-colored ones. Unspoken words passed between them as if they had a special connection. Which, in all fairness, they did, all before Wally had “died”. Nothing has seemed to change minus the time spent apart. A small smile crept across Wally’s face as a thought sparked.

“So…” he started, fully turning onto his side to face Dick. His little smile turned into a lopsided grin, and he reached out to run a hand through Dick’s raven locks in a joking manner as he spoke. “Barry’s told me there’s rumors about you and Zatanna-”

“No!” Dick squeaked, flushing slightly as he realized that with how quickly he had cut Wally off it might seem like he was just denying his feelings. He swallowed, sitting up slightly as he shook his head. “No, it’s not like that. We’re just…”

Both Dick and Wally paused. When Dick had sat up, Wally's hand had slipped from Dick’s hair and down to his bare chest, and neither boy had noticed up till now. Wally quickly pulled his hand back, smiling sheepishly.

“Oops.” Dick only chuckled, rolling his eyes at the speedster's antics. “As I was saying,” he sighed, shaking his head again which thus shook out his thick, dark hair, “we’re just friends. We’re close, sure, but it’s nothing more than that.”

Wally gave Dick a true smile, and this time he didn’t have his hand pressed against Dick’s chest. “I believe you, Rob.” Dick laughed, and it was barely a few seconds later that he pulled his little redhead close, snuggling up to him like a teddy bear.

“Of course, you’d believe me. I’d never lie to you unless it was for your own good.” The redhead huffed, grumbling and pretending to be annoyed, but he really just melted into the cuddles and enjoyed the warmth of his best friend.

Dick snorted upon seeing this, burying his face into Wally’s fluffy hair, but he sighed and squeezed Wally close. “I’m so sorry…”

“Sorry about what?” Wally could feel his heart sinking slightly at Dick’s apology. Whatever it was, Wally doubted it was Dick’s fault. Dick was perfect to him. The speedster clung to Dick, his chin resting on Dick’s chest as he tried to look at the younger boy. “What’s wrong?”

“I should’ve made you stop running. Barry and Bart would’ve had enough speed to stop it themselves. I should’ve done something.” Dick buried his face further into Wally’s hair, his body trembling softly as Wally could hear the slight cries coming from Dick. Wally pressed his face into Dick, the boys enveloping each other in a bout of platonic cuddles.

“Don’t blame yourself…” Wally mumbled into the taller boy’s chest, clinging almost for dear life to the other. “I could’ve stopped whenever I wanted. It’s my fault…” He hated how much Dick blamed himself for Wally’s death. It made him wonder if Dick had been thinking that way for the past seven years. It weighed down on his consciousness even more, now the guilt of losing Artemis and the pain of torturing Dick pressing down on him from all directions. Wally felt a few of his own tears slip down his face, some falling against Dick’s chest and others sliding along paths on his facial features before plopping down onto the sheets below them.

The boys cuddled close to each other for warmth, both ending up silently crying themselves to sleep in the other’s embrace. Wally fell into a light and fitful sleep quite a bit of time after Dick had passed out. He was too anxious and guilty to properly sleep. God, he needed a way to get this out.

“I would love to stay and get you further caught up with everything that’s happened, but I have a meeting that I can’t cancel.” Dick was pulling on his clothes as he and Wally sat in the kitchen, Wally crunching on some cereal as he watched and listened to Dick. He nodded, moving his gaze to his bowl and played with the cereal in the milk.

“…stay safe, okay?” Wally mumbled under his breath, but with the silence in the home, Dick could hear his words perfectly. Dick grinned, and he walked up to Wally to envelop the boy in a tight hug, burying his face into the red curls. He breathed in Wally’s smell, relaxing slightly as he nuzzled his cheek against the top of Wally’s head.

“We promised each other that we would never leave the other alone again. I won’t leave you.” Wally leaned into the taller boy’s embrace as he closed his eyes.

After a moment, Dick pulled back, smiling softly down at Wally. “I gotta go. I’ll be back, at the latest, for dinner. Make sure to take care of yourself and eat lunch; I don’t know if you ate anything when you were in wherever you were.” Dick ruffled Wally’s hair before grabbing his bag and ran out his apartment door. Wally’s gaze followed after Dick, and after hearing the door slam shut he sighed and got up to throw his cereal away. It had gotten soggy with how long it had sat. He then plopped back down into his seat at the kitchen table, sighing to himself as he buried his face into his folded arms that were crossed on the table. He was alone, and would be alone, for hours. He was stuck with only his thoughts, and his thoughts now weren’t happy and pleasant ones. Dark self-loathing thoughts swirled deep in the depths of his mind, and it all began to overwhelm him as he shrunk down on himself in his despair and guilt.

Suddenly, a voice Wally vaguely recognized called out.

“Big Bird! Didja get a new medkit that I could use?” Wally looked up, confusion on his face and slight tears in his eyes from his thoughts, right as two people came wandering into the kitchen in search of Dick. His green eyes widened as he was met with the sight of Roy, mechanical arm and all, practically carrying another man under his good arm. Roy practically dropped the man, and the man himself gasped loudly upon seeing Wally. Both males nearly screamed.

“WALLY?!!” They both launched themselves at Wally, who screeched and nearly fell out of his seat. Wally could barely breathe as he was being squeezed, and he squeaked slightly as the two surrounded him. Roy laughed, and the man he had recognized was hugging Wally while staring at him in awe.

“My God, Dick talked to me about you when I came back and was no longer killer, but fuck you’re different in person.” Wally squinted, and then he gasped.

“Jason?!”

Jason grinned, the really, really tall man nearly cradling Wally in his arms. “Guess I’m still as recognizable as I used to be.” He pretended to do a little hair flip, which made Wally giggle a little.

“Well, we came here to find Dick for a medkit, but we found something better instead,” Roy said, now sitting on the floor in front of Wally as Jason stood behind the speedster with his arms wrapped around him. “Where is Dick, by the way?”

“Oh, some meeting he wouldn’t tell me about,” Wally grumbled with a mock-annoyed look, but he couldn’t help but laugh and shove Jason’s face away as Jason was jokingly trying to smother Wally. Roy smirked as he watched Wally and Jason playing, rolling his eyes at the dorky behavior.

“I’ll be right back.” Roy got up and walked out of the kitchen, off on a search for the medkit. Wally leaned back and played with the white strands of Jason’s hair, Jason in turn laughing. “Big baby.”

“Tall child.”

“Speed demon.”

“Gun violence.”

Jason gasped, feigning hurt, before pushing Wally off of his chair and onto the floor. Wally grunted, sprawling out on the floor, and looked up at Jason with a scowl.

“Meanie.”

“I'm not mean. You’re just sensitive.”

Wally’s breath caught in his throat at that, and his heart squeezed with guilt and sadness, but he didn’t let it show. He didn’t want to prove that he was sensitive. He was about to say something when Roy came back, medkit in robotic hand, and placed his free hand on Jason’s shoulder.

“C’mon, Jay, we gotta go.” Roy then looked at Wally, giving him a sympathetic smile. “Sorry to leave you, but we have missions to do.” Wally shrugged and tried to look unbothered.

“I’ll be fine.”

Jason smirked, and he followed after Roy as they both left from where they had come into the apartment. Wally sighed, his mask of an expression falling. He was lying. He wouldn’t be fine. He didn’t want to be alone. Was he really that sensitive? His brain began to think faster than he could fully process, leaving him feeling overwhelmed and in need of an output. His gaze flicked toward the knife board that was near the refrigerator. His eyes narrowed, sucking in a sharp breath. Should he? He wasn’t sensitive. He could prove it. He would prove it…

Dick came home, hours later, only to find Wally on his couch. He was desperately trying to rebandage his legs while panicking, and the bandages weren't going on properly with how fast he was trying to bandage them.

“Whoa whoa whoa!” Dick dropped his bags and rushed over, pressing his hands over the spots that were slightly bandaged and trying to help stem the bleeding, ignoring the blood that dripped into his hands. “I thought I told you that you had to stay here!”

Wally sobbed, trembling as he sat and kept trying to bandage himself up. “I-I didn’t go anywhere…”

“Then what did you-?!”Dick cut himself up, and his eyes widened as he looked up at Wally’s face from where he was sitting on the floor. His blue eyes began pooling up with tears once the realization hit him. “Wally…”

“I didn’t realize the knife wasn’t serrated,” Wally choked out, his sobs catching in his throat as he panicked. “I didn't want this. I don’t want to die for real.”

Without further hesitation, Dick scooped Wally up into his arms, bolting out of his apartment and out to his car. “I’m getting you to the hospital! I’m not losing you again!” He strapped Wally’s pale and bleeding form into the front seat, and he got into the driver’s seat himself. He then began speeding off, trying not to go too much over the speed limit but was definitely crossing some boundaries in how fast he could go. The pair reached the hospital only a few minutes later, Dick scooping Wally back into his arms again and rushed to the emergency room. They checked Wally in, took him from Dick’s arms, and they wheeled him off into a different room. Dick was forced to sit in the waiting room, the man sitting impatiently in fear for his friend.

God, Wally, be okay… Dick had lost track of time, but some time later, a doctor came back with Wally, with Wally curling up into Dick’s lap as the doctor spoke quietly with Dick. They got to go home, and Dick made the ultimate decision to just carry Wally around the whole time. Wally didn’t speak, just staying curled against Dick in silence.

They didn’t even eat dinner. Both were too stressed with everything that had happened for food.

Dick held Wally against him as they lay in bed again, Wally having changed out of his blood-stained clothing. The younger male squeezed Wally, face pressed into the red hair as he took shaky breaths. He kept muttering under his breath, words of comfort and reassurance that Wally was okay.

He wasn’t dead.

He wasn’t losing Wally.

Wally felt guilty for scaring Dick, and Dick could tell, because he spoke to Wally instead of himself this time. “

You’re okay. Everyone gets overwhelmed sometimes,” Dick cooed, running his fingers through the back of Wally’s hair as Wally snuggled closer to him. He then sighed. “I'm bringing you to Dinah, though. In the morning.”

“But-” Wally started, but was cut off.

“No. It’s not just because of this you’re talking to her. It’s about everything.” Dick then grinned, tilting Wally’s head up to look into Wally’s eyes as he spoke. “We could get ice cream afterward.”

Wally gasped, acting dramatically as he tried to hide his small giggles, and was thankful for the topic change. “Ice cream? The frozen delicacy? My word!” Dick laughed and hugged Wally tight. Wally could feel the rumbles of Dick’s laughter through Dick’s chest.

“Go to sleep, Wally. I’ll be here.” And Wally did just that, falling asleep with a smile at the prospect of the childish prospect of ice cream. Being a child never hurts anybody though, right?

“One mint chocolate chip, and one vanilla chocolate swirl, please.” Dick tried not to break out laughing as he ordered, watching Wally bounce on the balls of his feet with his hands holding the rim of the serving counter, looking just like a little kid. He took the two cones as they were handed to him and handed Wally the vanilla and chocolate one.

They began a walk, their hands brushing as they strode along the tree-shaded path, enjoying the other’s company and their ice cream.

“You know, I’m proud of you for talking to Dinah,” Dick said, glancing at Wally as they walked. Wally looked up and smiled.

“Really?”

“Of course. I mean, I know Dinah’s pretty persuasive, but I don’t know if I could’ve talked to her.”

“Oh, I doubt that. You’re perfect,” Wally blurted, and then quickly shoved half of his cone into his mouth to shut himself up. Dick laughed softly, his hand brushing against Wally’s again as they walked along, a few leaves falling from the trees above and blowing around them.

“Eh, I wouldn’t call myself perfect. I mean, look, I just spent money for us to get ice cream,” he joked, playfully shoving Wally’s shoulder. Wally scoffed and shoved Dick back.

They both started play-fighting as they walked, ice cream finished, until they heard a voice behind them.

“Hey, Dick! Who’s your new friend?”

Wally paled. He knew that voice. He turned around to face the person, and they gasped loudly, a hand going up to their chest as their eyes widened.

“Wally…?”

[geralts-yenn]

2023 character wrapped

@deandoesthingstome knows too well I get a little obsessive over some characters - let's see if I can make it to nine (or if I can stop at nine 😁 a look onto my masterlist that's barely a year old tells me we will get there)

Here we go...

My no 1: No surprise here - Mikey

He's my precious silly boy and I will never stop loving him. As part of a family of lunatics here or here, as our best friend, or as the cute neighbor who steals the heart of Nina and Mel

2. Melot

I blame @raccoon-eyed-rebel for introducing me to the slutty lil' braid boy. Just look at that grumpy, miserable little guy. I can't help but thinking about how to make him feel better. That's why he gets the love from not only one but two lovely persons in my Hearts Too Big universe. He's still not quite happy as a vampire in Believe in Me, but I swear we'll get to it.

3. Syverson

Not much of a surprise - how could I not love him? He's the character I read the most this year, for sure. But I also loved to write him into my bonfire story and it's follow up. I was yearning for him and I imagined him as a daddy 🥰

4. Evan

Oh, he was a surprise for me. Even though I liked his character in the movie, I didn't intend to write for him. Until a lovely nonnie put him into my brain and started to fuel my obsession with him here, here and here.

5. Walter

The grumpy bear was always a favorite of me when it came to reading but I was a little scared to write him by myself. In the end, I'm quite happy with the outcome when I finally dared.

6. August Walker

Another one that I love but didn't dare to write. Until it was too tempting to add him as the vampire king in Believe in Me. And then those little pieces of smut here and here with the vampire king were surprisingly easy to write.

7. Napoleon Solo

I love the smooth spy. I had so much fun to pair him up with the lovely Amina and I totally plan to get back to Leon sometime in the future

8. Charles

I wish I had more time to explore his character. I love him so much - especially when he's put into a modern AU. I kinda did this to him as my sidekick for Melot. And I have a wip in my folders, sleeping for way too long, where he's the most annoying and yet adorable duke. I really hope I get to the point where I can introduce him to you.

That's everyone I have written for this year. But I surely don't stop here with obsessing

I won't count Geralt, Will and all the other characters of Henry Cavill because this post is already too long for anyone to read, lol.

But I surely have to count the man himself

9. Henry Cavill

Yes, I am obsessed with this man and I am not sorry! I guess I won't ever get back to the unfinished RPF that got me into writing at all but I will not stop loving the adorkable man that he is.

And then there are still some guys that don't look like Henry:

9. Dean Winchester

I had almost forgotten how much I loved him. Until I introduced the teenager to Supernatural and spent a lot of evenings this year watching that stupid little shit 😍

10. Billy Russo

One of my favorite roles for Ben. And so many good fics out there that I need to explore at some point.

11. Jack Reacher

Very recent addition to the hunks in my head. I love the new season and I'm definitely not immune to that man's visual charms.

I think I will stop here, even if I could name probably another 12...

@ellethespaceunicorn @peyton--warren @gummydummy19 @jvanilly @ronearoundblindly @ylva-syverson want to talk about your favorite characters?

[griffin-girl-r]

You came back to me (Part 2)

Created: 20.03.2022

Finished: 26.06.2022

Edited: 19.09.2023

Age: 15

Word count: 2,030

Warnings: Shovels

Request: No

Part 1 , Part 3

—

"Why do you want us to go back there, Nat?" Clint asked annoyed

"I want you to go there and find everything you possibly can about Y/N."

"But why?!" Clint whined rolling his eyes "An abandoned HYDRA base isn't the nicest place in this world."

"Not your business, Barton!" Natasha shouted angry

Clint immediately shut his mouth and just nodded.

"Don't worry, Nat. We'll try our best." Steve reassured Natasha, placing his hand on her shoulder

"Thank you, Steve. It means a lot." She smiled at him, placing her hand over Steve's, squeezing it a little

And with one last nod between Steve and Natasha, the two men took off.

Natasha turned towards Bruce and gave him a look that said 'I'll need your help later'.

—

A few hours later, Steve and Clint returned with their hands empty much to Natasha's disappointment.

"We're sorry, Nat. But we found no records of her." Steve explained

Natasha only stormed out of the room confused and frustrated.

—

She was almost running towards Bruce's lab when she bumped into someone on the way there.

"Hey, Tasha! Where's the rush?" You questioned the woman, rubbing your shoulder that came into contact with Natasha's

"Hey, Y/N? Can I ask you a few things?" She nervously asked

You have never seen Natasha this nervous.

"Sure, Tasha. You know you can ask me anything." You smiled

"Do you remember how much time you spent locked in there?" The spy intently watched you

"In the cell?" You raised your eyebrows

Natasha nodded.

"I think that, I don't know, maybe 8 or 9 years. I can't remember exactly."

"And they did experiments on you?" Natasha kept her gaze on you

"Not really. No." You shook your head "But they used to run tests on me all the time though."

"What kind of tests?" Natasha rushed to ask

"They were testing my agility, reflexes, intelligence, endurance... Things like this."

You only blinked once and when you opened your eyes again, Natasha was already sprinting down the corridor.

"Tasha, where are you running?" You shouted after her

But you received no answer from her.

Shrugging, you kept walking to your initial destination. The kitchen. To get some snacks and drink some milk.

—

Natasha banged open the lab's door and speed walked towards Bruce who was sitting at his desk.

"I don't know how but you will find out who are Y/N's biological parents and her medical history." Natasha pointed her finger towards the doctor "You have 48 hours."

And with that Natasha rushed out of the room as fast as she could, not leaving any space for Bruce to protest.

Leaving him no other choice than to run multiple DNA tests.

—

Later that night, Natasha was sitting on the edge of her bed, deeply lost in thoughts, when Clint entered the room without even knocking first.

"What are you doing here, Clint?" Natasha sighed tired

"What do you think you're doing, Natasha?" Clint snapped back at her "Bruce told me what you asked him to do. Is there something I should know?"

"No..." The woman quietly answered

"I don't think you'll ever go this crazy for nothing. I know it's about Y/N, who by the way, keeps asking for you. But I don't understand what... You've noticed something strange?" Clint crossed his arms, waiting for an answer

After a few moments of considering whether she should tell Clint or not, she nodded her head.

"Y/N..." Natasha let out a shakey breath "She has a scar on the back of her head, hidded by her hair."

"And?" Clint encouraged her to go on

"It's in the exact same spot where Dreykov shot my Y/N when he killed her..." She tried her hardest not to cry

Something clicked in Clint's head and he sat down next to his best friend with a long sigh.

"Do you remember the day we found the grave?" Clint asked, looking at Nat "I know for a fact that I will never be able to forget it. Not even if I tried."

"How could I forget?" The woman finally allowed herself to cry

~~~~~

It's been 2 years since the day Natasha lost everything. Since the day her world came crashing down and only left a big hole inside her.

For the past 8 months, ever since Clint became her best friend, he had done nothing but search for the grave of the child he hadn't even met but started to love because of Natasha's stories about her.

And he did. He actually found it with a lot of help from some people that owed a debt to him.

It was a cloudy day when Clint told Natasha that he found the grave and she, practically, begged him to take her there in that instance.

Much to Clint's surprise, the grave was placed in a really quiet forest not so far from the place they currently lived.

He was there every second of that painful encounter and the scene in front of him will haunt his dreams forever, becoming one of his multiple nightmares related to Natasha.

Clint felt the cold summer rain starting to pour down the moment Natasha laid eyes on the little gravestone in front of her.

But Natasha didn't.

She didn't feel the cold raindrops soaking her up.

The pain inside her was so strong that she couldn't feel the physical pain anymore.

With small and shy steps the 24-year-old woman approached the grave that had become the new home of her beloved baby.

She fell to her knees and hugged the gravestone so tight that someone from afar would believe she was actually hugging her child again, planting kisses all over the dirty and cold stone.

"Y/N?" Natasha sobbed out with all her heart "Oh, Y/N. What are you doing here, baby? You were supposed to be home playing with your puppy while laughing and running around the house, not lying here in the rain. It's cold out here, my love. You might get sick. You have to come with me inside. We can do anything you want. We can play or cuddle or bake cookies or anything you want us to do... Just get up and come with me, baby girl. Get up! I love you!"

Natasha kept bragging and bragging over and over again, while uncontrollably sobbing and screaming.

Clint was no longer trying to be strong.

No one in this or any other world would have been able to control their tears at the heartbreaking sight of a mother hugging her daughter's gravestone. It was too much pain.

When the man couldn't take more of his friend's pain he slowly lifted her and took her back to her house, despite Natasha's screams of protest.

Over time, every time Natasha would disappear, Clint knew exactly where she was.

And he wasn't disappointed when, every single time, he found her asleep next to the grave.

Most of the time, he would just cover her with a blanket and let her sleep, watching over her from a nearby tree.

—

"I will never be able to forget your painful screams, Nat. And I never want to see you pass through this again. It will be too much for you." Clint sighed "And for me..."

"But what if... What if somehow what I'm thinking it's true, Clint?" Natasha asked hopefully

"Look, Nat. I don't want you to get too excited only to have your dreams and hopes crushed, okay?" The archer patted her back

Natasha saddly nodded.

"I want to do something crazy that will be extremely painful no matter the result." Natasha looked at Clint for confirmation that he's in

"What?" He sighed, letting his head fall in his hands

—

The next day, Natasha was back at her daughter's grave together with Clint, Steve, and two shovels.

"Give me a second, guys." Natasha pleaded

She crouched down next to the stone and, kissing it, she whispered "Forgive me, baby girl. But I need to know. Always remember that Mama loves you."

She pointed to the grave with her head and the boys nodded. Taking the shovels, they started digging.

—

Half an hour later, Natasha was holding her breath as Steve and Clint placed down next to her the small white casket her daughter was in.

She lovingly dusted the dirt from it with tears in her eyes and shakey hands.

"Hi..." She whispered as she kept moving her hand from side to side on the casket "Long time no see..."

"Are you sure you want to do this, Nat?" Steve asked concerned

"Yeah, I need to." She said not taking her eyes from the casket

Both men got closer to their friend, getting ready for whatever they were about to witness.

Natasha slowly opened the casket and she gasped shocked when she saw what was inside.

"Nothing..." Nat breathed out in shock as she took in the emptiness of the casket, her grip on the side of the casket tightening with each second that passed

Steve and Clint looked at each other shocked for a moment and then both rushed to talk to Natasha.

"You were right, Nat..." Clint exclaimed surprised

"What is this supposed to mean?" Steve asked equally as surprised as Clint

"Either she's buried someplace else, either..." Natasha looked with shimmering and full of hope eyes at her friends "Either she's alive."

—

Natasha couldn't wrap her mind around the information she just found out and Clint for sure wasn't helping too much.

"It's empty!" Clint cheered for the one hundred time in the last five minutes

"Clint, shut up!" Natasha threatened him

But Clint only kept on celebrating "It's empty. It's empty..." He chanted and started to dance

From one quick move, Natasha picked up one shovel that was beside her and smacked Clint over his upper back with it, the archer falling to the ground with a loud groan.

"I. Said. Shut up!" The woman spitted out

Steve looked shocked at her for a few seconds but dared to say nothing.

"Why?!" Clint started to cry like a little baby and brought his knees to his chest "Just why?!"

—

Back at the compound, you were chilling on the couch almost falling asleep when you heard voices and recognized Natasha's.

The three heroes entered the room and you shot up on your feet with a questioning look on your face as you saw the state they were in.

As soon as Natasha laid her eyes on you, she engulfed you in a really tight hug, and the redhead started to cry.

"What have you done to her this time, guys?!" You gleared at the men annoyed while holding Natasha in your arms "Robin Hood? America's Ass? Do you have something to say for yourself?"

"Bye!" Clint shouted and ran out of the room, dragging Steve out with him in the process

"Hey, Tasha... Are you okay? Why are you crying?" You slightly pulled apart to look at the woman who took care of you these past months

"I-I... I just discovered something really important for me." Natasha sniffed

"Is it a good news?" You questioned carefully

"The best!" She smiled

"Yey! I'm happy for you, Tasha!" You cheered

—

Natasha didn't fully reveal to you what that important news was and you didn't push her to tell you.

You just cuddled up with her on the couch, watching movies until you fell asleep.

—

Natasha admired you sleeping for a moment and then, gently peeling you off of her, she went straight to Bruce's lab to collect her answers.

"I need answers, Banner! And I need them now. I can't wait anymore..." Natasha demanded as she entered the room "Have you found any information about Y/N?"

"I actually did." Bruce announced, making Natasha's confident facade fade away "I found her mother. It wasn't that hard to find her since her mom was already in our database. Y/N's DNA matched almost instantly with her mother's."

Feeling like her feet couldn't support her anymore, Natasha let herself fall into a chair and, holding her breat, she asked the important question.

"Who is her mother?"

[medusapelagia]

8 Au-gust: Robots and Androids - Part 7

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 , Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8[...]

Rating: Mature Relationship: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson WT: Android Steve Harrington, Wanted Criminal Eddie Munson, surgery on the android Words: 1673

“Why do you hate him?”

“Apart from the obvious?” Eddie sighs, Dustin is a smart guy but it’s kind of annoying having to deal with him.

“Yeah.”

“Well, to be honest, he is not special enough to deserve my hate. But I hate all the androids, and he is an android.”

“It seems personal.”

It is personal. But he is not going to share his emotional baggage with a thirteen-year-old boy.

“Where did you learn about robotics?” Eddie asks him.

“Here. My parents are both scientists and working with El helped me a lot.”

The little girl doesn’t seem to be a robotics expert but she clearly cares about androids.

"You are good at it.”

“Mum says I’m a genius.”

“Don’t brag. But you are good. You changed that battery like a professional.”

“I was scared out of my mind, but we had to help him, you know right?”

No, Eddie doesn’t know. The android is just a  pile of circuits, he doesn’t deserve their help or their pity.

“He saved your life.” Dustin insists.

“Can you understand that it’s in his fucking code once and for all?!” Eddie snaps.

“It is. But it was an emergency situation. Stevie is clever, he could have found a solution and let you die on impact. But he saved you. He shielded you with his body. Isn’t that something?”

“No, because he is going to bring me back to the Central to be killed after a fake trial so, no. It’s not something! It’s annoying and frustrating, ok? I don’t like androids and I don’t like the one that captured me, that sounds so strange to you?”

Dustin sighs and goes back to his computer “You must admit that he is fascinating. I have never met an android like him.” he turns toward Eddie “Did you?”

“I don’t know why you think that he is so fucking special.”

“Because he has feelings. And emotions.”

“He has not.”

“Talk to him. Without being aggressive, and you’ll see.”

***

Eddie can hate S.T.E.V.E. as much as he wants to but the android is really useful. In the few days that they have spent at the outpost he has helped Hopper make some repairs, he has cooked for everyone and he has finally managed to fix the stupid radio.

“Are you really going to call the Central? I thought we were friends.”

“We are not friends. You are my captive and I have to take you back to the Central.” the android replies in his monotone voice.

“Oh… that hurts. I was starting to think that there was something special between us.” Eddie mocks the android who looks at him with his plastic eyes without expression “So, when are we leaving, captain?”

“Hopper and I have fixed the biggest damages but Dustin wants to take a look at the engines before let us leave. He doesn't want us to explode in the air.”

“You are like the kid's personal science project, you know that right?”

S.T.E.V.E. tilts his head, confused.

“He would die to study you. To open that metal head of yours and take a good look at your fucking circuits.”

“Maybe. But he didn’t do it. And he said he was sorry for replacing my heart when I said I didn’t want it replaced.”

“Your heart? It’s just a fucking battery!”

“And yours is just a muscle.” the android retorts.

“That’s not…” Fuck the stupid android, fuck them all! 

The android stares at him with his eyes with no expression “I know that it means nothing to you, but I’m sorry that I have to bring you back to the Central." the android pauses "All of this would not be happening if you weren't a murderer.”

“I told you a million times that I’m not a murderer!” Eddie sighs “But you don’t listen to me. You never did. After all, why should you care, right? Your stupid video says that I’m a murderer so that’s what I am, right?”

Stevie seems almost sad, which is not possible because he is a stupid tin can.

“Why should they lie?”

Eddie stares at him, that’s not the kind of question he was expecting from the android. Well, to be honest, he didn’t expect a question at all, but the more time the android has spent with the little group the more open he has become.

“They didn’t lie. They just turn the truth in their favor.” Eddie takes an e-cigarette, he knows that soon he will not be able to smoke anymore so he tries to enjoy what he can “I’m no saint, ok metalhead? I have destroyed androids and I never felt bad about that. I was protecting my people, and I’ll do it again in a heartbeat! And I don’t care about your opinion if you think that I am a murderer or whatever! I didn’t kill Chrissy, that’s all I’m saying.”

“You always speak about Chrissy, was she special to you?”

She was. She was the most special girl ever. She was so kind and pure… everything that Eddie never was and never would have been. And she died. Because of him.

“I didn’t kill her.” he tells the android, the e-cigarette still in his hand “But it’s my fault if she died. I made the bomb. I knew it was there and I knew that there was the possibility of some collateral damages. But I didn’t care. So, yes, somehow your dispatch is correct: I wasn’t the one that moved the bomb next to the bleachers, but I still killed her.” his hands are trembling and the androids take the e-cigarette with a kindness that Eddie didn’t know he possessed.

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

Those are the same words Eddie told him days ago when he was talking about his human companion.

“Do you miss him?”

“Uh?”

“Your partner.”

“Bi… Tommy?”

Eddie stares at him. What was that? A glitch?

“Are you ok?”

“I’m perfectly working, thanks.”

Eddie nods confused “What was the name of your partner?”

“Tommy. Tommy Hagan.”

No uncertainty. Maybe it was just a glitch. After all, the android took quite a hit and almost exploded just a few days ago. It’s probably a normal android’s reaction. Maybe he should turn him off and turn him back on. But there is no way the android will let him turn him off, so he shrugs and goes back to look at the stars.

“How many can you see?”

“Sorry?”

“How many stars can you see from here?”

“One hundred billion.”

“For real?”

“More or less.”

“Fuck. That must be amazing.”

“What?”

“Being able to see so far that you are almost looking back in time.” Eddie replies, amazed.

“I can see things that are farther, but sometimes I can’t see things that are close.” S.T.E.V.E. murmurs.

Eddie stares at him wondering what he might mean, but the android gets up “If tomorrow Dustin will decide that we have enough fuel to get to the next planet we will leave. Enjoy your evening.”

Eddie stays all night staring at the sky, conscious that it would have been the last time.

***

“Get up. We are leaving.” The android wakes him up, he has a coffee and a piece of bread.

“I thought we were waiting for Dustin’s ok.”

“We were. But some troops are coming in this direction and I will not let them get to this planet. So we are leaving.”

“What if the ship explodes in space?!” Eddie objects.

“You were the one that wanted to die of dehydration in a desert. If the ship explodes it will be a less painful death.”

Fucking androids and their stupid logic!

He gulps the coffee in one go and gets dressed holding the bread in his mouth while he ties his shoes.

Joyce is waiting for them with a bag with some supplies “For the journey,” she says and Eddie thanks her. Before leaving, Joyce takes Eddie’s elbow and whispers to him “He is special. Don’t be too hard on him.”

Eddie doesn’t answer back and starts to run to follow the android. The metal tin is right, those people helped them, and they don’t need other problems.

At the entrance, Steve is talking with the strange little girl, El.

“You don’t have to go.” she is saying “You could stay here. With me.”

S.T.E.V.E. caresses his cheek “I have to kid. I have to protect you.”

“But I can protect you! I can! I am strong.” she insists.

“I’m sure you are. But there are other people that deserve your protection, aren’t there?”

“Mum?”

The android nods, then he points at something on his arms and shows it to her “I know you can’t read it but this is why I can’t stay here.” 

“Because you are a lone wolf?” she asks.

The android freezes “How…”

“Are we going, tin can? Or do you want to wait for your friends here?” Eddie interrupts them and the android turns toward him.

“You are right. We have to go. Take care El.”

“Take care too Stevie.” she replies, waving at them until she is just a little white point in the night.

Hopper gave them a transport and a thermal suit, they will leave everything on the crash site and somehow the others will recover them.

“They are good people.” S.T.E.V.E. says.

“They are. And they are leaving in the old way. No fucking androids around.”

S.T.E.V.E. stares at him for a moment but says nothing.

He starts the ship and after a couple of tries, they are able to leave the surface and get into space.

“I’ll try to make a jump to the next planet.”

“Do you think it will work?”

“‘I’m confident it will work.”

"How many chances?”

“Good.”

“Tell me the number.”

“67%”

“Fuck.”

“They are good.”

“Ok. Just press the fucking button.”

Eddie has never prayed, but when the android moves the hand toward the jump button he takes the necklace his uncle gave him and holds it tight.

Tag list: @shunna, @yourmom-isgay I hope you enjoy it!

[winderlylandchime]

Hello and happy new year, i hope you’re doing good and that you had a good NYE.

Here are just some highlights from what you’ve missed in the latest episodes of ‘My brother is an idiot’.

In case you wondered how we spent NYE, let me tell you that originally we were gonna go to a bar with our neighbor and socialize but she got sick, so my brother changed plans and made her watch 3x08. That’s right, he calculated when to watch the episode so that Britin reunion happened exactly at midnight. We entered 2024 with Lover’s spit, ngl it was both amazing and impressive. And the clock went midnight right as the song started/their iconic reunion happened and we all yelled ‘AYYYEEEE HAPPY NEW YEAAAAR’ He also showed her 3x14 and not to anyone’s surprise, the ending still makes him cry.

Also a very important update: THE CAST IS OFF!! He walked out of the office and literally put a fist into the air like a dumbass and then looked at THE ENTIRE WAITING ROOM, pointed to his fist and went ‘I’m back, baby!!’ And then to me ‘I almost put that Proud song on to play it so I could walk out all dramatic and put my fist in the air like in that movie.. But I’m too fucking traumatized by that song cause of the finale so just imagine it for the experience okay?’

Btw our dad is coming in on Wednesday so that he can spend some time with us and then go home with my brother. So naturally my brother has spent the last day and a half going through episodes to decide which ones to show him. I fear my dad might strangle him when he realizes he’s being tricked into watching qaf. But i am curious what his reaction is going to be and which episodes he picks.

And the most important thing that I actually thought will be avoided: about 2 days ago, I left him at 10.30 pm to go to sleep. He was reading fan fiction and at the same time watching fan videos of Gale and Randy which…okay, go off. Please try and guess what the fuck happened next because i can guarantee you, you’re gonna be wrong.

He came into my room and woke me up out of nowhere and i asked what’s up, thinking it’s some emergency. And i can see on my clock that it’s like 4.45 am and he’s crouching next to me, holding the laptop, turns it towards me to show me some random site while almost blinding me and then whisper yells at me ‘this Hal dude is or was a fucking prick! What the fuck did Gale and Randy ever do to him? And why the fuck did those two old dudes hate Randy?!’ And then he just got up and walked out (leaving the door open because of course) and just says to himself or me ‘they did nothing and he’s acting shadier than a fucking palm tree!’ I woke up the next day, genuinely sure that I dreamt that and I come to the living room and he’s in the same position as I left him in and he goes ‘oh this dude is lowkey annoying, i just read this post from a convention and he doesn’t know how to let other people talk, why did he answer a question about gays and his gay friends when Randy was asked as a gay man? And I didnt know those writers sucked so much, they looked like they got along at that gay panel but apparently they hated each other? By the way do they still do these conventions?’ All this was said to me in one long ass breath, right as i woke up. Felt like a fever dream ngl. He was practically bouncing off the walls because of how much coffee he drank because he stayed up all night reading up on Gale and Randy and anything qaf related he found. He even found old Gale interviews from The Advocate and later found out Gale was also in a motorcycle crash and he texted that to our mom saying that clearly that means they’re soulmates of some kind and she just replied ‘or that you’re both stupid <3’

He said that after he finished his fics, he started watching videos and then he went to check bts videos and interviews and he looked all that up and got war flashbacks because they just asked whatever they wanted in the old 00’s tabloid era. And that somehow lead to him finding a link to a fan forum or something and then he just spiraled. He said that when he saw Hal being shady, it was either wake me up and tell me OR wake up our parents..

oh and during this all nighter he also put together a playlist that he named ‘Bri Bri in a nut (ha) shell’ and it’s songs from the show that he thinks fit Brian best. So now he goes back and forth between the playlists depending on his mood and how much he misses Brian. I created a monster and you all helped me. Thank you very much

Dear sweet anon!

I am so sorry for the delay in responding. I haven't been on tumblr because the new stuff at my job is cutting into ALL MY PRECIOUS SCROLLING TIME.

(And fic writing, so sorry everyone!)

NGL I am high key impressed that he figured out how to time the episode so that Lover's Spit was playing when the clock struck midnight. That is some dedication. What time does one need to start the episode for that to happen?

Congratulation to your brother on getting the cast off! I'm so glad he can return to making the ally fist.

But oh nooooo, he has fallen down the rabbit hole of the bts and what has been shared and pieced together and what can be observed. But couldn't he have sent you a voice memo rather than waking you up?

I'm curious if he has any fic recommendations for the fandom? And, also, what is in his Bri Bri playlist?

I like your mom's response to your brother's belief that both him and Gale being in motorcycle accidents makes them soulmates. Maybe they could be soulmates for another reason. Your brother could kiss Randy, for instance.

I hope your 2024 is lovely so far! I can't wait to hear your dad's reaction to being ambushed with QAF.

[musical-shit-show]

i want your midnights

Pairing: Dewey Finn x Reader

Inspiration: sequel to waste my time, #17 (“you’re the only person i want to be with tonight”) and #39 (“don’t blame me. you know what you signed up for.”) from Prompt List #2

Warnings: cursing, angst, alcohol consumption, suggestive dialogue (?), anxiety, fluff at the end

Word Count: 3,229

Author’s Note: Last one shot of 2022! This is a sequel to waste my time, which I really enjoyed writing and thought it warranted a part 2. And, since it’s New Year’s Eve, I thought it’s only fitting to get this out tonight. Thanks to everyone who’s left such nice messages over the past year! I hope to continue to write more in 2023, and already have some things in the works. As always, check out my Masterlist, About Me page, and Prompt Lists if you want to submit a request! Everyone have a safe and Happy New Year!

Hooking up with Dewey Finn certainly had its perks. How could it not? You could hardly keep your hands off each other for weeks, and the secrecy only enhanced the experience. As promised, he had kept his mouth shut since that fateful Halloween party, and you two were able to convince your friends that you had simply called a truce on your years-long feud. Convince everyone but Patty, that was.

“No way,” she said, the day after the Halloween when you met her for a debriefing brunch, “What did he give you? Money? As if he had any…” She lifted her Irish coffee to her lips, smirking at her own snotty comment.

“No, no,” you said, feeling yourself get slightly annoyed at her dig, “We just…talked. He’s really not that bad, as it turns out. I know it’s different for you, but—”

Patty waved her hand, shooing your explanation away nonchalantly, “Don’t even worry about it. I had a feeling this would happen…” she mused, stirring her drink. Your heart skipped a beat, “Everyone loves Dewey anyways. Plus, Ned will be thrilled.”

You chuckled, breathing a small sigh of relief. As far as she knew, you and Dewey were nothing more than amicable. “Yeah well, he really did me a solid last night. Never imagined Dewey Finn would be good for helping with an anxiety attack, but I kinda owe him one.” Patty grabbed your hand lightly, comforting you.

“That is…actually really cool of him. And hey, maybe if you guys are friends, you’ll rub off on him. Maybe suggest he do some chores every once in a while?” She was teasing of course, but you could feel your pulse quickening again; the thought of actually hanging around Dewey made you nervous now.

You had no idea how you felt about him, and the most you two shared up to that point was a touchy makeout session on that damn fire escape the night before. All you knew was that it was in your best interest to stay away until you could figure out what was going on with your emotions.

That was almost two months ago.

And yet, you spent all your time with Dewey and no time at all figuring out your godforsaken feelings. You didn’t have much time to intellectualize your emotions with Dewey whispering sweet nothings into your ear as he pinned you against your mattress. The very thought of him in your bed sent your brain into a tailspin, so you had elected to be completely avoidant.

As far as you were concerned, you enjoyed his company and he was a great lay.

That was it.

Or rather, that’s what you told yourself at least. Having your mind lie to you was easier than letting your heart tell you the truth.

Besides, you quite liked the idea of a friends with benefits setup. It took at least a little bit of the pressure off, though it didn’t stop you from taking the piss every once in a while.

“Really stretching that definition of ‘friends’ huh, Finn?” you remembered asking him. The two of you were lying in bed one night, the streetlight outside your bedroom window shooting streaks of light across your entangled bodies. He smiled and shook his head, his shaggy mop of hair bouncing at the slightest movement.

“Well, what else would you call it?” he traced his fingers along your collarbone, where he had left a conspicuous trail of love bites that you would almost certainly have to cover up the next day. You didn’t have an answer in the moment, or as time passed. Despite loving the initial thrill of sneaking around with Dewey of all people, your situation grew more precarious with each passing day, and it was eating away at you.

Yes, Dewey was your friend now, but what if you told him how you felt and he didn’t feel the same way? What if he didn’t want to be friends anymore? And how would that affect your relationship with Ned and Patty?

And oh god, Patty. How would she feel if she found out you’ve been sleeping with her freeloader roommate with a hidden heart of gold? You were practically hanging by a thread.

Suddenly, you found yourself at the end of the calendar year, with Dewey on your couch stroking your hair absentmindedly as your head rested in his lap, a forgettable movie playing in the background. It was so domestic it almost made you sick.

“You coming to this New Year’s thing tomorrow night?” Dewey asked sleepily, the light from the TV reflecting off his face. He was drawing circles and swirls on your scalp, the sensation both tingling and relaxing you all at once.

“Yeah, of course,” you said, stretching your arms above your head and pinching his nose playfully, “I think Patty would kill me if I didn’t bring my famous champagne Jell-O shots.” Dewey let out an involuntary shudder.

“Oh, be sure to keep those away from me. I can’t have a repeat of last year.”

You smiled softly, remembering how different your relationship was only a year prior. You wondered if your past self would even believe the position you found yourself in now before finally muttering, “Duly noted.”

You and Dewey had both learned quickly to sit in silence comfortably with one another, but this one was different. You could feel a sort of tension that was new, unfamiliar.

“Maybe…” he said, now tracing swirls on your temple, “Maybe we could go together? If you want?”

Your heart nearly skipped a beat.

“I don’t know, Dew…” you trailed off, sitting up and pulling yourself away from his embrace, “Do you really think that’s a good idea?”

“Not in the slightest,” he joked, sitting up to meet your gaze, “But I don’t care anymore.” He tried to scoot closer to you, but you felt yourself retract from his touch.

“Well, I do,” you heard your voice harden, “Look, this thing we have going, it’s good. I don’t want to mess it up by—”

“What? Telling the truth? Come on, we don’t have to pretend anymore. I like you. A lot. And I thought you liked me.”

For a moment, you were stunned into silence. Dewey was usually pretty easygoing, especially when it came to your arrangement. Which turned his confession into even more of a gut-punch.

Your eyes met his again, which sported a pained expression, “It wouldn’t work between us. I thought we both understood that.”

“Oh, come on, screw that!” he replied, standing up, “I know we didn’t get along before but…things are different now. At least I thought they were.”

Your heart was screaming at you to stop, to tell Dewey how you really felt, to go to this stupid party together and not worry about what other people thought. But you couldn’t do it. You were too scared of what would happen if you two were together for real.

Sure, superficially you worried about Ned and Patty; You knew deep down that they’d get over it pretty quickly. No, you were worried about falling even harder Dewey than you already had, only to eventually screw it up for yourself.

Better to end it before it starts.

You clenched your jaw, a mixture of sadness and anger overtaking your face, “Don’t blame me. You know what you signed up for.” You half expected him to argue with you, but he didn’t look angry at all; his chestnut eyes were glazed over with hurt. “Dew, I—”

You wanted to say you were sorry, that you didn’t mean it, that you could go to this stupid party together. But nothing came out. And before you could let it, Dewey had already started gathering his things to leave.

All you could do was sit in awkward silence before he spoke, his voice tremoring, “Just for the record, I think it would’ve worked between us. Really sucks that you don’t see that, I guess.”

“Dewey—” you felt yourself standing up, tears in your eyes.

“No, I,” he sighed, running his fingers through his unruly hair, “I should go. I’ll…see you around.” He opened and shut the door with finality, the sound of his footsteps reverberating down the hall, the echo deafening.

***

“Well hello, hot stuff!” Patti greeted you at her door as pop music blared behind her. You plastered on the widest smile you could muster, a tray of Jell-O shots balancing on your hand. The party was in full swing, and you could already feel your heart pounding in your chest.

You hadn’t the faintest idea if Dewey would be there. You tried to call him and explain, but it went straight to voicemail; you tried texting him, but he left you on read. You were surprised you didn’t get frostbite from the cold shoulder he was giving you.

After setting the shots down on the kitchen counter, you scanned the room intently, hoping to see a familiar mess of brown hair somewhere in the crowd. You deflated when you didn’t see him, and Patty noticed immediately as she handed you a sparkly plastic cup. You felt gold glitter stick to your fingers immediately.

“Festive,” you commented, swirling the champagne cocktail until a tiny vortex of liquid formed. You took a swig, the sweetness making your throat burn on the way down. ‘Please, God, let me get drunk tonight’ you thought, your eyes darting towards the front door each time it opened.

“Okay, what the hell is wrong with you?” Patty inquired, her tone only slightly annoyed, “I thought we were gonna have fun at this party.”

You sighed, setting the drink on the countertop, “I know, I’m sorry. I just…I want to. I have a lot on my mind and—”

“You have to tell me what’s going on,” she persisted, “Don’t think I haven’t noticed you’ve been acting weird.” Damn her and her perceptiveness. Before you could get a word out, you felt hot tears welling in your eyes.

“It’s Dewey.”

Patty blinked stupidly. You cursed yourself for blurting out his name, and you were even more ashamed that you had been lying to your best friend for months.

“Dewey?” she repeated, letting out an incredulous laugh, “Why do you even care if he shows up, I mean I know you guys called a ceasefire, but—”

“Can we just go to your room and talk?” you choked out, feeling more claustrophobic by the second, “Please?”

In that moment, Patty’s eyes widened in realization. Your crying, eyeing the doorway, mentioning Dewey Finn of all people as the source of your turmoil. It finally clicked.

“Oh…my god.”

“I’m sorry, I should’ve told you—”

“Oh my god.”

Patty practically dragged you to her and Ned’s room, slamming the door behind her. You could feel your hands getting clammy, the thought of a fight ensuing making you break out into a cold sweat. You envisioned shouting, tears of betrayal, a final angry goodbye��it was too much for your hummingbird heart to take.

“You’re in love with him.”

Now it was time for you to be taken aback. You furrowed your brow at her, trying to make sense of your best friend’s words.

“What?”

“You’re in love with Dewey,” she repeated, smiling. Never in your life had you seen Patty talk about Dewey while smiling. “I can’t believe I didn’t see this coming…”

“Wait, wait,” you sat on her bed, feeling your heart rate slow only slightly, “You’re not mad?”

Patty sat down next to you, throwing her arm over your shoulder, “Oh honey,” she said in a tone that was far too sweet for your liking, “I’m not mad. I’m furious. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!”

You let out a dry laugh, “No, I mean, you’re not mad that it’s…Dewey?”

She shook her head, and your eyes widened in disbelief, “As much as he is a pain in the ass, I kinda saw this coming. Ever since after Halloween, really. I just didn’t think you’d be this head over heels for him.”

Feeling your entire body get hot with chagrin, you gave her a playful push away from you, “I’m not head over heels for him.”

“Oh, you so are.”

And then the realization dawned on you, hitting like a ton of bricks. You had been in denial for weeks, really ever since that first night on the fire escape.

You were in love with Dewey Finn.

And you were certain he never wanted to speak to you again.

“It doesn’t matter,” you said, tears starting to well in your eyes, “I fucked it up, P. I got scared and I pushed him away.”

You shoved your head into your hands, feeling utterly defeated. How could you have possibly been so stupid? You had the chance to be together, really together, but once again the cold grip of your anxiety overtook you the moment you felt yourself getting too close.

Pulling yourself out of your shame spiral, you noticed a devilish glint in Patty’s eye. “What?” you asked, a little scared of what she’d say next. She was usually the practical one; seeing her scheme was a bit unnerving.

 “Hold on, I’ll be right back.”

***

“Hey bud, where you at? This party could really use a case or two more of beer.” Dewey heard his best friend say over the phone, his voice fighting against the rowdy party that was happening in their apartment.

Dewey took another swig of his beer before responding, “Oh, hey man, yeah…I’m out.” The dive bar he had chosen for the evening was surprisingly empty, with only a few other lonely souls, “And I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to come back right now. I’m sorry.”

“Why not? Everyone is here—”

“I know. They aren’t the problem, I just…I have to tell you something.”

He then proceeded to tell Ned about everything – Halloween, the weeks since, your fight – practically all in one breath. It was killing him that he hadn’t told his best friend about the two of you, so it wasn’t difficult for him to start spilling his guts.

“I’m so sorry, dude,” he said, stepping out of the bar to catch his breath and get some fresh air, “I know I should’ve told you I just, I didn’t want to screw it up. But clearly she doesn’t feel the same way about me, so—”

“Dewey, I love you,” Ned said as he looked over at Patty, who had already relayed everything you had told her, “But you are the world’s biggest idiot.” Dewey blinked on the other side of the phone, taken aback by Ned’s uncharacteristic bluntness. “Just, get over here.”

Dewey shook his head, confused, “Wait, what’s going on—?” but before he could finish his sentence, the line went dead. He huffed, his breath appearing in the cold December night.

There was a part of him that told him to stay at the bar, sit in a booth by himself, and wait for the year to be over alone. But something else in him, something stronger, was telling him to listen to Ned and get back to the apartment. Because he knew you’d be there, and this might’ve been his last chance to make things right.

Before he realized it, he was walking home, his pace quickening as the wind stung his face. He dodged hordes of people crowd the city streets who were all ringing in the new year. His mind flashed to Ned’s request for more provisions; he honestly couldn’t bring himself to care.

As he climbed the stairs, he could hear the excited voices wafting from underneath the doorframe. Luckily, he was able to slip in relatively unnoticed since he had no alcohol to provide. He scanned the room for you, and spotted you the couch, nervously picking at your nails.

“Uh, hi.”

Looking up, your heart dropped when you saw Dewey, who gave you a small, awkward wave. “Oh my fucking god…I’m gonna kill Patty.” He chuckled lightly, and you stood up, wiping your hands on your skirt.

“You look…nice.” He choked out, the tension of your fight still hanging heavily between you. “Thank you,” you replied, your eyes darting to the floor. You were desperate for an escape plan. “I, uh, should probably get going though.”

You brushed past him to grab your coat, which Ned had haphazardly thrown into Dewey’s room. Perfect.

Dewey leaned against the doorframe, watching you tear through the pile of parkas. “Before midnight?” he said while following you in, “Come on, I knew you were a wet blanket but—”

“Please, just…just don’t.” you cut him off, your voice faltering. Dewey always tried to make light of a situation, but right now, he was only making you feel worse about blowing him off.

Before you could stop yourself, you heard your voice ringing in your head, “I…I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to, I just, I’m scared, okay? And I fucked it royally, so, seeing you here when I know that I can’t fix things, it’s just, it’s too much for me.”

“Hang on,” Dewey crossed his arms over his chest, a sad smile on his face, “who said we can’t fix things?”

“What?” you felt tears welling in your eyes, “I thought you didn’t want to see me again?” Without thinking, Dewey stepped closer to you, wiping a stray tear from your face. The small, intimate act made your pulse quicken.

“I didn’t, at first,” he said, his gaze soft, “But then I remembered your smile, and your laugh, and the way that you can argue with me about anything under the sun and I still find myself wanting to spend the whole day with you. You drive me insane, babe, but I couldn’t care less. I thought by storming out like a complete moron, I’d ruined any chance I had with you.”

In an act of impulsiveness, you grabbed his hand, entwining your fingers with his. Never in a million years did you think you’d be in this position, but Dewey’s words were enough to make you bolder than you ever imagined.

“I…don’t know what to say,” you said quietly, “Other than that…well, the last couple months have been some of the best I’ve had in years. And, you’re the reason why, Dew. You’re the only person I want to be with tonight and, well, I don’t want to lose you. I can’t lose you.”

Before you knew it, Dewey had picked you up, spinning you around as his laugh filled your ear. You instantly got butterflies, and when he set you down, his smile could’ve lit up the entire city.

“You won’t,” he said, “It looks like we don’t have anything to hide anymore.” You grinned back at him, a small giggle escaping from your throat. “So,” he continued, “I take it Patty knows?”

You nodded, “Yep,” you slipped your hand into his again, his grip comforting, “I don’t know what happened, but she’s…cool with it.”

“Well good,” he said, “Because I’m not letting you get away this time. I’m gonna annoy you as long as you’ll let me.” You kissed him softly, finally feeling lighter than air. The two of you stepped back into the party, finally excited for what the new year might bring.

***

thanks for reading! please like/comment/reblog if you enjoyed!

[indeedcaptain]

Regulatory Relations, chapter 2: Man with a Plan

Okay, I'm going full steam ahead with Fake Married!! I actually hit par for Nano for the first time since this weekend last night, so I think this is the project my brain wants to work on most. HERE WE GO, I HOPE YOU ENJOY :)

Also posted on AO3 here!

☆☆☆

Between his ready room and Spock’s door, Kirk had changed his mind four times. This was an insane idea. He couldn’t possibly marry Spock. 

But the idea of Spock serving elsewhere, for them to send padd messages back and forth every once in a while until they never spoke again, filled him with a grief that he couldn’t even put a name to. 

But this entire plot hinged on the idea that his favorite marble column impersonator would agree to marry him publicly. 

But if they got married, he would never be able to marry someone else.

He came to a halt in the middle of the hallway, forcing an annoyed ensign to swerve around him, stack of padds wobbling precariously in her arms. He stared down the familiar corridor of the Enterprise as the sheer imbalance of his feelings hit him. When he thought about Spock leaving the Enterprise to be the captain of some science ship across the galaxy from him, the barbed-wire edges of panic started to circle every thought. His chest physically ached. When he thought about giving up the possibility of marrying for love later in life, he felt nothing at all. 

Kirk started walking again. If he was being honest with himself, beneath the nothingness, he felt the barest hint of relief. Every person he had ever dated had hated playing second fiddle to his ship and his career, and it had driven every one of them away in the end. He would never have to worry about that again, because his and Spock’s priorities had, for years, been exactly in line. He spent more time with Spock than with anyone else on the ship. Honestly, him and Spock getting married almost made a certain sort of sense. 

He was wearing the treads of his shoes down in front of Spock’s door, trying to place his thoughts in order and figure out the most logical way to structure his proposition, when the door slid open. Spock in his meditation robes appeared before him, and his mouth went dry. Was he really about to propose to his best friend? 

“Captain,” Spock said. “I could hear you. Why are you pacing in front of my door in such a manner?” 

“Can I talk to you?” 

Spock’s room was warm and musky, familiar and comforting. Kirk looked around at the evidence that Spock — son of two worlds, claimed by neither — had settled in here in a way he never had anywhere else, and he squared his shoulders. When he turned back to Spock, the Vulcan was watching him with one eyebrow raised. 

“You don’t want to leave, right?”

That eyebrow arched impossibly higher. “No, captain,” Spock said eventually, and despite his flat affect Kirk could read the unhappiness beneath. “I do not want to leave.” 

“I have an idea,” he said. “It’s a little bit illogical--- maybe a lot illogical--- and it might require some acting on both of our parts. And you can say no if you don’t want to, of course. But I want you to stay, and I think it might work.” 

“I am amenable to all suggestions that would allow me to maintain my current posting,” Spock said, and the slight stress on the word ‘all’ revealed how much he meant it. 

“We’re friends, right? And we serve well together. You don’t want to leave. I don’t want you to leave.” Kirk paused to catch his breath. His heart pounded in his chest. Why was he so nervous? 

“Those are factual statements,” Spock said quietly. 

“Starfleet regulations prohibit the separation of legally married couples.” The words burst from him and hung in the smoky air between them. Spock’s eyes widened slightly. He could practically hear the hum of Spock’s brain as he processed the implications of what Kirk had said. What he was suggesting. 

“Captain,” Spock said, his voice low and guarded. “You would offer this to me?” 

“I don’t want you to go,” he repeated. 

“You would not be able to marry another unless we divorced,” Spock said. 

Kirk scoffed, only a little. “I don’t know if you noticed, Mr. Spock, but folks aren’t exactly jumping in line to marry a man who’s never home.” 

“But you would sacrifice ever having the option? To keep me here?” 

Kirk turned back to Spock’s shelves, unable to bear the weight of his burning gaze. It had seemed so simple in the hallway. Nothing had to change between them; in fact, their getting married was the only way he could ensure that things wouldn’t change between them. Spock’s intensity surprised him. He ran a finger over the smooth wood of Spock’s lyre, just to have something to do with his hands. 

“I find that I don’t really care about having the option,” he said. “If it ever comes up, we can talk about it. For you, too, if you wanted it. But right now, what matters most to me is keeping you on the Enterprise.” 

“After T’Pring and the kal-if-fee, a union of that kind will not be available to me. I am hesitant to subject you to the same condition, even if it means securing my position here.” 

Kirk turned back at the quiet desolation in his voice. Across the room from him, Spock stood with his hands clasped behind his back, his shoulder slumped as much as they ever were beneath his robes. His face was impassive, but his eyes were pinned to the ground. 

“Spock, you can’t really believe I value you less than some hypothetical partner in a future that might never happen.”

Spock’s eyes flashed up to meet his. “Do not think that I would ever doubt our friendship, captain. I simply doubt that you will not miss romantic companionship as the years pass.”

Sometimes Kirk really fucking hated his younger self for the recklessness with which he had loved and left. “If that happens, and that’s a pretty big if, we can talk about it then. But for now, and for the rest of my career if we’re being honest, you being around means more to me than any fling ever could.” His stomach sank as he reconsidered Spock’s opposition. “Spock, if you don’t think this is a good idea, or you don’t want to, we just won’t. It’ll be fine.” He wiped a hand across his mouth and turned his head back to the shelves so he wouldn’t have to watch Spock say that he would rather leave than agree to marry him. But Spock unclasped his hands from behind himself and approached him slowly, with a look on his face akin to curiosity. 

He stood at Kirk's shoulder and considered the contents of his shelves with him. Then he said quietly, “You always surprise me, Jim.” The sound of his own name shocked Kirk into turning to look back at him. 

“I did not mean to imply that I was ungrateful for the offer, or that I did not want to attempt this… ruse. But I also needed to know that it would not cause you immediate distress.” 

“Honestly, the prospect of you leaving causes me more distress than the consequences of getting fake-married do.” Kirk leaned slightly sideways to bump his shoulder against Spock’s. Spock hummed slightly, deep in thought.

“If you are certain, captain, I would be deeply grateful. I have found that I very much do not wish to leave.” Spock touched one long finger to a sculpture that Uhura had given him previously.

“Then don’t,” Kirk said. “Let’s get married.” 

Spock walked him to the door, but held his gaze as he turned to leave. “Thank you, captain,” he said. “I do not take this lightly.” 

“You’re welcome, Mr. Spock,” Kirk said, and he couldn’t help but smile at him. “Breakfast in the morning? I believe we have a lot to discuss.” Spock agreed, and said goodnight, and when he disappeared behind the turbodoor Kirk pressed his hands to his face and leaned against the bulkhead until he could wrangle his cheek-splitting smile into something a little more dignified.

Then he walked the ten steps to his quarters, mind whirling, and sat at his desk with a padd for the next three hours, planning how exactly they were going to convince the rest of the crew that they were a couple.

☆☆☆

Spock was waiting next to Kirk’s door when he opened it the next morning, dressed sharply in his science blues. They fell into lockstep as they walked to the mess. 

“Changed your mind, Mr. Spock?”

“No, captain.” 

“Good. I’ve got plans to share with you.” 

Over two cups of tea for Spock, three of coffee for Kirk, and a disjointed breakfast spread of replicated options, Kirk laid out his strategy for how they were going to convince the rest of the crew, and from there the admiralty, that they were wedded partners. Step one was physical contact. 

“You already frequently touch my person,” Spock said, sipping his tea. Kirk grinned. 

“Great! I already have a reputation for being in your space more than other people. Now we can just do it on purpose.” 

“Are you implying that your current level of physical contact with me is unintentional?” 

Ignoring Spock’s pointed and disbelieving eyebrow raise, Kirk continued. Step two was pet names. 

“We do not have pets.” 

“Not yet, anyway. And it’s a human expression. A pet name is a term of endearment. What does your mother call your father?” 

“Sarek,” Spock said bluntly. “We cannot have pets on the ship.” 

“Come on, a cat or something would be cute. Really? She never calls him honey or sweetheart or something?” 

“I urge you to remember the tribbles, captain.” But then Spock pursed his lips before saying, “Ashayam.” Kirk did his best to type it phonetically on his padd. 

“And what does that mean?” 

“Beloved,” Spock said after a beat, so gently that Kirk looked up at him in surprise. Spock looked away from him to stab a piece of fruit with a fork. 

“I had a hunch that Vulcans were secret romantics,” Kirk said, and underlined the word. “Do you have a preference for what I’ll call you?”

“No,” Spock said. 

“Careful. If you don’t choose something I’ll choose it for you.” 

“As you wish, captain,” Spock said. 

“That’s another thing. You’re going to have to call me Jim sometimes.” 

“I do call you Jim.” 

“In public.” 

Kirk laughed out loud at Spock’s expression of dismay. Step three was allowing the crew to see how much time they actually spent together. 

“I do not understand. We share most meals, work together, and frequently play chess in each others’ quarters. What else is necessary to convince the crew?” Spock’s second cup of tea was cooling on the table in front of him, and he rotated it in his hands.

“They know it, but they don’t see it.” 

“Clarify.” 

“Sure, they see us spend time together, but they just assume we’re friends. And we are, of course, but now we need to draw their attention to it so that they think something else is going on.” 

“You intend to intentionally provoke the human propensity for gossip.” 

“I sure do,” Jim said cheerfully. “As bridge crew, we’re hot topics most of the time. If two of us were to accidentally let it slip that we’d been secretly dating for years, it would spread like wildfire.” 

If Spock were less controlled, Kirk thought that he’d be rolling his eyes at him. As it was, he sighed quietly through his nose and took a sip of tea. Kirk drained his own coffee and slid it to the side.

“Then, after the groundwork is laid, we’ll announce our wedding.” 

“You desire an official wedding?” 

“Yes,” Kirk said, affronted. “We’re going to have to submit the paperwork regardless. At least if we have a wedding we’ll have a reason to throw a party.” 

“Fascinating,” Spock said, in a tone that implied that he would rather walk out an airlock. 

“It’ll be fun, it will be good for morale and therefore performance, and it will ensure that the whole crew bears witness to us being genuinely married. Perfectly logical.” 

“As you say, captain,” Spock said. Then he paused, brown eyes scanning Kirk, before saying, “I understand that human beings do not like to keep secrets from their closest friends.” 

“There are caveats, but that’s mostly true,” Kirk said. “Why do you bring it up?” 

“I believe it would be beneficial to you to inform Dr. McCoy of the truth,” Spock said. He watched Kirk over the rim of his teacup. A little knot of worry that Kirk had been ignoring resolved in his stomach. 

“It would be,” Kirk said immediately. “I do want to tell Bones. Do you want someone to tell?” 

Spock considered, as Kirk continued to type ideas on his padd, before saying, “I would like to tell Nyota the truth.” 

“Oh, that’s perfect!”

“Indeed?”

“She knows everything that goes on on this ship,” Kirk said. “She can help us keep track of if people are convinced or not.” 

“It seems you have considered every strategic angle,” Spock said, and held his hand out. Kirk stared at it--- the smooth, dry palm with its faint green lines, the long fingers--- and then back up at Spock. 

“I thought holding hands was highly intimate for Vulcans,” he said, a little shocked. 

“Your padd, captain.” 

Immediately relieved and slightly embarrassed, he handed it over. Spock flipped it around to look at his charts and notes, and Kirk was gratified by the impressed eyebrow twitch. 

“You would have made a formidable politician, captain. Or perhaps a novelist.” 

“Then it’s settled,” Kirk said, and with his padd out of the way pulled a now-cold breakfast sandwich towards him. “We’ll tell Uhura and Bones, we’ll start to flirt and be a couple in public, and then we’ll get married.” 

“And then we will submit the paperwork.” 

“Sure, baby, whatever you want.” 

Spock’s indignant expression at being called ‘baby’ was worth almost choking on his breakfast.

[gaiaxygang]

scary relationship chart

I made a messy visual for this a few months ago but here I will attempt to put it into words!!!

If you've spent enough time around Thai actors you've probably realised a lot of them happen to know each other. I like making connections drawing lines and once I fell into a hole because of these 6 20something year olds.

Ohm Pawat, Nanon Korapat, Chimon Wachirawit, Perth Tanapon, Saint Suppapong and Mark Siwat all know each other in one big circle. Here's a short video showcasing it (this is not as detailed as my post will be but it has the rough idea).

(It's hard finding a place to start when it comes to a group of 6.)

1. Saint, Ohm and Chimon went to the same high school, Assumption College (Thailand). Ohm and Chimon are in the same year, while Saint is 2 years above them.

Ohm and Chimon became close friends here (I don't have any clips where they mention this but it's evident from how they act). I'm unsure when exactly they met but they've been friends for a very, very long while.

Saint wasn't close with them because he's older but in School Tales The Series interviews he mentions sometimes seeing Chimon around campus. In one of these interviews he also said they could get closer by talking about football and he was relieved to be working with an old schoolmate.

Saint and Ohm would later attend the same university (SWU) and I don't know if they were friends. Everyone here except Chimon actually went to SWU so this doesn't mean much 😭

2. Nanon and Chimon met while filming Senior Secret Love: My Lil Boy season 2 in 2016. Nanon was in S1 but Chimon wasn't. They got along quickly because they were close in age (they're both born 2000, even though by Thai conventions Nanon is younger). They would go on to film several series together in the next few years.

Similarly, Perth and Mark met while filming Please... Siang Riak Winyan in 2017. Mark was the first to approach Perth and became Perth's first friend in the entertainment industry. They also spent more time with each other because their characters were close.

Chimon was also in Please, and this is where he met Perth and Mark. The two weren't super close with Chimon since they didn't share scenes.

3. Mark and Ohm became friends in SWU. There are old videos of Ohm being annoying (affectionate) around Mark.

In Ohm and Mark's first year at SWU, Ohm met Perth (still in high school). According to a Double Savage interview, they'd met through a mutual friend. I am unable to find anything that confirms or denies this but I am almost certain Mark introduced them. They became good friends afterwards and have described each other as like blood brothers.

(Ohm thought Perth would be arrogant because he was already an established actor by then but he was very polite HAHAHAHA he is soooo cute 🫳🐯)

Also this isn't really in chronological order but Nanon and Perth met in SWU in 2019 as well!

4. In 2018, Ohm, Nanon and Chimon were cast in Blacklist. When they were filming the pilot, Ohm and Nanon met for the first time. Chimon helped to introduce them (having been friends with both for years at this point) and when Nanon saw Chimon speaking casually to Ohm, he started doing so as well.

(Nanon is a year below Ohm and Chimon, but he's close enough to Chimon that he speaks to him like they're the same age. Ohm has mentioned seeing Nanon skipping class in uni wwww)

Perth and Mark met Saint while working on Love By Chance. Perth and Saint were paired together. I'm not certain about LBC because I don't want to touch anything related to it but there seems to have been a LOT of promotion featuring the full cast.

5. Perth and Chimon met again at some point, likely around when Perth joined GMMTV. They were both close with Ohm and Nanon. Perth was asked early on who he'd want to work with in GMMTV and he answered P'Ohm, P'Chimon and Nanon 😊🫳🐯.

TL;DR

Ohm, Chimon and Saint went to the same high school. Everyone except Chimon went to the same university. Nanon-Chimon, Ohm-Nanon, Perth-Mark, Saint-Perth met through series. Ohm-Perth were introduced by a mutual friend.

(I don't know anything about Nanon, Mark and Saint. Half the industry probably knows Nanon but I don't know if they're friends with him.)

What about the shows?

Aside from the aforementioned shows, many of them were also cast in the same series.

- Perth and Mark were cast as a couple in The Stranded. They were very comfortable with each other by then so there weren't many problems. They even improvised a kiss! Perth-Mark did some promotion together (Pepsi ad and Mint Magazine video for example) but went their separate ways career-wise after.

- Around the same time as Blacklist, Ohm and Chimon were both cast in He's Coming To Me as friends.

- I don't know WHEN because My Precious production was SLOW but Ohm Nanon and Chimon were all cast in the movie. The series version was also filmed at the same time.

- In 2021, Ohm and Nanon were paired for Bad Buddy. They did around a year of promotion before, well, divorce.

- Saint and Chimon were cast in the same episode of School Tales The Series. This was done before PerthChimon became an official GMMTV pair but I find it very funny that by the time it aired PerthChimon had already done an event together. This twitter thread has links to videos and interviews with Saint and Chimon.

Mark was also in School Tales, but in a different episode.

- Ohm and Perth played brothers in Double Savage. Given what their characters are like I would hope Ohm and Perth didn't put TOO much of themselves into it but I presume their friendship helped with bringing their characters to life.

- I've done a separate PerthChimon timeline so I won't talk too much about them but they became an official pair around mid 2022, likely also when Perth joined the cast of NLMG.

- Music projects! Perth and Nanon have been in Musicon, both Japan and Jakarta. Perth was also a special guest at an Ohm-Nanon fanmeet, where he performed with Ohm.

😬😬😬 typed this out on a whim so I might be missing things. The 6 of them make me so (TEARING HAIR OUT) genuinely. Hoping for a Perth and Nanon project next year 🫠🙏

[bookworm-center]

Dirtyhands and the Bloodbender: Chapter III- Our Shared Past

Previous part below:

Dirtyhands and the Bloodbender

Y/n L/n: Our Shared Past

Kaz is being annoying once again, forbidding me from joining him and Jesper to deliver the documents to Rollins. I wandered around the Barrel for a little while, growing bored rather quickly. I went back to the Club faster than I wanted but there was nothing to do while out.

The sound of my glass clinking down on the bar echoes in the near quiet of the Club. The pigeons have dwindled to five patrons. Being alone makes me think of Jesper and Kaz. I hoped they were alright. For some reason, I remembered the night we'd met, the night Kaz recruited me to the Dregs nearly three years ago.

~*~*~*~*~

It had been a particularly rough day. I had been paid to assassinate a mercher, which ended unsuccessfully. My client was furious and had shot at me in the shoulder. I just needed to feel the burn of alcohol down my throat so I made my way to the nearest Club.

Kaz had found me then, chugging shots of whiskey and chatting with the bartender. I recognized him almost immediately. After all, what crook or thief in Ketterdam hadn't heard of Dirtyhands? Everyone knew of Kaz Brekker, the infamous Bastard of the Barrel. Jesper was with him, pearly guns at the holsters, tall lanky frame hoovering behind Kaz.

"Y/n L/n." I looked up when Kaz said my name. It wasn't something I'd given out to people. "Also known as the Bloodbender."

"What business?"

"I want to recruit you to the Dregs." Kaz said.

I couldn't help but laugh. "The Dregs? I don't belong to any gang. Convince me why I should join you."

"Why shouldn't you?" Jesper asked.

"Look, if I joined you, I'd be the talk of the town."

"Disgraced and disowned?" Jesper added. I nodded. He didn't need to know I'd already been disowned by my family and disgraced by the Second Army.

"Is this really how you want to spend your days?" Kaz made a pointed look down to the glass of whiskey I was nursing in my hands. "Whiskey and misery? Always cheated out of your money?"

"Well what can you offer me in return for my service?"

"Kruge. Freedom to go where you please. Revenge. I'd promise you safety but that would be a kind lie." Kaz said, tapping his finger on the crow head of his cane.

I took a minute to decide, although I'd made up my mind when Kaz had first come up to me. Kaz Brekker had only ever wanted the best of the best, everyone knew that. So of course I'd join him. Especially if I meant I could get revenge on Pekka Rollins and perhaps the Second Army as well.

~*~*~*~*~

Three years later, I've still not quite got my revenge, but there are now many things that keep me with the Dregs and the Crows. The quiet moments I shared with Inej as we dashed across the rooftops. The times I had to pull Jesper away from the tables and we played card games alone in my room. Eating waffles and sharing secrets with Nina, telling tales about our time in Ravka. Exploding anything and everything when I was bored with Wylan. And most of all, Kaz.

Kaz was my closest friend, though neither of us would admit it. We spent so much time simply sitting in Kaz's office, me reading some random book and Kaz studying maps and plans for new jobs. We bickered and teased each other, but deep down I knew that I cared for him and would burn the world down if he was killed. He wasn't the same, of course, Dirtyhands never gets too attached to people, at the cost of hurting his heart- if he had one. Still, he kept me here with his Crows, my allegiance to him more than Per Haskell.

I knew that I belonged here in Ketterdam more than Ravka. Ravka was the country of Saints, Kerch the land of sinners. Ketterdam was home to the worst of the worst, the broken, bruised, and battered calling the city their own. Kaz was like me in the sense that we both belong here. We are both bastards in different senses, me by my lineage, Kaz by his actions. We are king and queen in a way, rulers of the world that is so devastatingly cruel, you have to become a monster to survive.