#it was the peAK of hilarity at that time okay

[chaotic-so3k]

Remembering the time we were watching Star Trek (TOS) with my family and we were talking about Spock's eyeshadow sometime before that so naturally she went "He's girlypop" and I started laughing my ass off and my mother was confused and was like "What does 'girlypop' mean?" so my sis started laughing and our dad just said

"Martha, our children are ridiculing us"

[eyeofnewtblog]

Things that happen at home:

So, husband had surgery on his hand today (related to the stroke he had on January Friday the 13th…can we all agree that while tragic and devastating and painful, this is also peak comedy and it’s really hard to keep a straight face with Serious Medical Professionals who are trying to give Important Medical Care Information)

Notable hilarity:

The nurses and doctors all have badges to get them through certain corridors. Once you are inside the hospital, they badge you through to certain areas. As part of their job, as part of the medical process, etc. They are focused on the patient, so if you just happen to be memorizing all the turns, they aren’t going to notice.

They also don’t get paid enough to stop you when you barge in randomly.

My husband’s surgery took two hours but they held him until the anesthesia wore off so my reasons for barging in were “he just got out of surgery and he needs his phone” (the phone did not get left with him, he was way too groggy for that) “I went home and brought the dog back with me, this is Zelda” (huge success, one nurse said it was a “great Halloween surprise”)

Got asked by a random woman how I made it past the doors, as she was in the same predicament (husband in the recovery ward) and I was like “just flag down someone who doesn’t get paid enough to care” and since I was currently holding the door open for her to “illegally” access her husband, she just did that whole face scrunch shrug thing of “I don’t want to or dislike breaking rules/medical advice, but I’m on a Husband Caregiver Mission, sooo…through the door it is.”

My husbands very drugged and groggy reaction to Zelda being there. Lots of “Oh, this is my baby. Have you met my baby? Hi baby!” He introduced the same nurse to the same dog 2.5 times. I stopped the third one halfway through because she was unhooking him from the machines and it was time for him to put his Real People Clothes back on.

Have you ever dressed your spouse while they are very very drugged and you are sober? Drunk counts.

Like, he knew it was me doing the dressing, but the conversation you have to have leading up to putting on a shirt…my siblings are so drastically younger than me that I Know How To Dress Another Person Efficiently…but having to explain to a drugged spouse that shirts go on first, sitting down, then ALSO SITTING DOWN underwear and pants get put on one leg at a time, and we pull them up together.

I think “don’t forget the fly, pull the fly up, I don’t wanna flash the nurses” has got to be my second favorite drugged up spouse line. He had full underwear, there was no risk of flashing.

My absolute favorite drugged up spouse line is when I barged into the recovery unit the first time (so no dog) and the nurse was like, “he’s still pretty out of it, it’s probably going to be another hour,”

And I’m not the best wife, okay, so in front of my drugged up husband who absolutely HATES having his blackheads or pimples popped, I say out loud “so, basically he can’t run away or fight me at all right now if I go after the blackheads on his face?”

And my husband swings his good arm at me vaguely and with zero force and says “NNgh! Fight. Nnnnnno.” And then sort of collapses and gives the nurse his giant puppy eyes and says “Don’ ledder. Plesss.”

And me and the nurse both look each other in the face and recognize that I’m really just testing how out of it he is and agreeing with her.

Also I started a frozen lasagna when I went back to get the dog…my recommendation going forward is that you should add at least a half hour onto your time if you want fresh food waiting for whatever patient you’re helping. Also it’s hard to juggle sides, so having lasagna and Texas toast with cheese shreds is…not ideal.

[01solarsmiles]

[ 3 ] moonlight dancing

synopsis: you go for some fresh air

genre: magic, faerie!au, mark is mortal

wordcount: about 500 words

tags: @kiri-ah

The week following your first encounter with Mark was a tumultuous one. The initial shock and discomfort you felt at his presence had not diminished; instead, it festered like an open wound. Every day brought new challenges and moments that tested your patience.

At the heart of your frustration was the realization that Mark was not like the other fae students. He was, after all, a human, and his actions and reactions were a constant source of bewilderment. While the fae moved gracefully and spoke in riddles, Mark stumbled and bumbled his way through every task and conversation.

You found yourself assigned the unenviable role of Mark's guide, a responsibility you had begrudgingly accepted. Each morning, you met him at the appointed spot, where Chaeyoung eagerly awaited his arrival. She seemed determined to be his friend, a sentiment that both baffled and annoyed you.

Mark's attire remained a sore point for you. While the fae wore exquisite, ethereal garments that shimmered with magic, Mark stubbornly clung to his mundane human clothes. He claimed they were more comfortable, but to your eyes, they were a glaring reminder of his otherness.

One particularly sunny morning, you decided to address the issue. "Mark," you began, your voice tinged with irritation, "you really should consider wearing fae attire. It's not only a matter of tradition but also a matter of safety. The magic in our clothing protects us from certain dangers in this realm."

Mark blinked at you, his expression one of genuine confusion. "Oh, I didn't know. I thought these clothes were just fine. But if it's a safety thing, I guess I should give it a try."

You nodded, somewhat mollified by his willingness to comply. But your exasperation returned in full force when he attempted to change into fae attire right then and there, in the middle of the courtyard. Fae clothing was not donned so casually, and you hurriedly averted your eyes, scolding him for his lack of decorum.

As the days passed, you tried to teach Mark the intricacies of fae culture and etiquette. You introduced him to the delicate art of flower language, explaining that the fae often used blooms to convey unspoken sentiments. Mark, however, struggled to remember even the most basic meanings. His attempts at using flowers for communication were met with unintended hilarity rather than the intended grace.

One evening, you attended a gathering in the faerie court, where all the students mingled and danced under the silver moonlight. It was a tradition that dated back centuries, and the elegance of the event was a stark contrast to Mark's clumsy movements.

As you watched him fumble through a dance with Chaeyoung, your frustration reached its peak. You excused yourself and retreated to the garden, seeking solace among the moonflowers. Their pale, otherworldly beauty had always comforted you, but tonight, even they couldn't soothe your troubled thoughts.

Mark found you there, out of breath and flushed from his dance. He seemed genuinely concerned. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice tinged with worry.

You turned away, not wanting him to see your vulnerability. "I'm fine. Just needed some fresh air."

But Mark didn't give up so easily. He sat beside you, his presence oddly comforting despite your earlier irritation. "I know I'm not like the others here," he began, "but I'm trying my best to fit in. I don't want to cause trouble."

His words struck a chord within you, and you finally turned to look at him. His earnest expression revealed the sincerity of his intentions. For the first time, you saw Mark not as a burden but as someone genuinely striving to belong.

Maybe, you thought, it was time to let go of your resentment and give him a chance. After all, Mark was a newcomer in a world that was as strange to him as he was to it. And perhaps, in time, he would prove to be more than just a source of frustration.

[uglyduckling339]

KY'S LIFE IS STRANGE DOUBLE EXPOSURE NONSENSE LIVEBLOG: Episode 3

(as always, spoilers ahead!! don't read unless you've played the game or watched it bc otherwise none of these will make sense)

Tutorial Episode 1 Episode 2

LETS FUCKING GOOO IM SO EXCITED i actually really like this game ngl

(fun fact: this episode alone took 103 drafts to liveblog, and i actually shortened the amount by combining some into a list. without the list, it's about 150 drafts lol)

WOLF SQUAD HOODIE 🗣🗣🗣 AND PINK TIPS 🗣🗣 BEST OUTFIT COMBO AROUND FR

bruh max is ALWAYS sleepin in the beginning of ep 3 lmao

the best part of max's dissociation is there is no way she could be 100% confident that she DIDN'T kill safi. even she is getting slightly convinced by the photo and its prolly bc she knows theres days she wakes up and she doesn't feel real; days she forgets completely. she will NEVER be certain she didn't kill safi bc she'll never know if she just forgot it and erased it from her memory.

oh um, ik i was just yapping abt dissociation but i just remembered that it could be a future version of max instead😭 so idk

if i had a nickel for every LiS game i've played where the main character is accused of murder and wears a wolf squad hoodie, i'd have 2 nickels.

highkey i forgot safi and vinh fucked. they're both so real ngl

LMFAO MY BROTHER SAID MAX IN THE PIC WITH THE GUN HAS A LEAD PAINT STARE

cheetos toes?? max?? girl??

AH EW ALDERMAN KYS I HATE U

max. the picture. girl. u forgot the picture.

why would u walk to open the door with very explicit evidence against you js chilling in plain eyesight u freak

love her "oh fuck" + the face she makes lol

YO WHAT THE FUCK??

WHAT

FUCK YOU DUDE

he mentioned arcadia bay?? holy shit

my fav draft in here is: "girl js eat the photo atp"

okay what was alderman even tryna do. piss max off??

her instant breakdown :( poor max

OH MY GOD

OH MY GOD

MAX PHOTO JUMPED AGAIN ??????

shes js hella rusty but damnnn omg

hey! so what the fuck was that.

why was the storm in the background?

was it a diff universe maybe?

istg it's like her nightmare never ended fr

also MAX IS STILL FINE AS HELLLLLLLL IN THAT STORM EVEN AFTER 9 YEARS daymn

omg :( her collapsing tryna use her powers

the music in this episode is so good btw

is this the first ep in DE where we get 'sits' back or did i just miss them all last time

now i love you max but yk DAMN WELL ur talking straight out of ur balls with that whole "disappearing" thing. we dont know if u vanish or not 😭

okay so luckily she DOES disappear. unluckily i have SO MANY COMMENTS now:

what abt the dozens of kids she vanished in front of last ep then? did they just not care? does this mean that when she time travelled she DID teleport around? and people js didn't say anything? hilarous 10/10

goddd this might be my favorite ep so far. the amount of references and stuff added is insane.

max's trauma peaking through ily

she's like edging a breakdown but thats not quite enough tbh. i need to see her js COLLAPSE. let her hit her lowest. suffer ♡

actually i think i just wanna see max have a super reasonable reaction to this chaos she lives through ngl

okay so i looked away to liveblog and when i looked back up a diff universe alderman was there?? and moses could see him??? huh??

obvi i saved him. max wouldnt let him die

"i could've saved him!!" "no, you couldn't have." OH MY GODDD

highkey, the random extras in this game fucking SUCK. why is one british. who tf is kim. why do i care abt changing "photo guy"'s grade. i miss the tiny cast in LiS 1

stupid ass game making me google words

quick shout out to my dad for playing the whole Yasmin scene for me. he didn't have to, he js insisted bc "i paided 85$ for this game; i wanna try it"

okay so i actually hate Living World! Vinh ngl

VICTORIA?? GIRL?? DAMN??

talking mad shit on my pink twt page man.

also max's glitchy hair in this is so interesting !!

i forgot in which world Vinh owes me a favor so i've decided to not use any favors ever 🤩

"my door is always open" sounds familar...

lucas is the only person to be like slightly consious of max wandering around his room lmao

yup lucas is supposed to be jeffershit coded

AHH direct jefferson mention 😰

yk what. i dislike the loading screens. why r they so often

safi :( no :( y r u so mad :(

OH MY GOD IT'S COURTNEY'S BDAY </3

MAX IS SO SAD AND LONELY I LOVE HER

i think at first these liveblogs were more detailed but now i just say words lowkey

dude shes like so sad rn its insane. ily girl

SMASH OR PASS LMAOOOOO:

pass moses, smash gwen, didnt even get a choice w amanda (i think thats fucking WEIRD btw; i'll elabrote in a min), pass lucas, Kiss vinh

OH MY GOD I FORGOT TO ADD THAT SHE NEARLY CALLED CHLOE. BAE WAS SO UPSET SHE ALMOST CALLED HER OLD BAE

guys i make Max kiss Warren and Chloe is LiS and now i wanna do that again with Vinh and Amanda. #PolyamorousMaxineCanon

amanda's scene gets bisexual lighting okk

LETS THRASH SHAKABRAH !!!!!!!!!

okay so going back to the Amanda 'no choice' thing, at first I rejected her (bc the first interaction in the game with her is the game borderline shoved us onto her??) and now i've grown to kinda like her.

I like rhat she does listen to our boundaries and doesn't push on now but I feel like we missed alot of chances to learn more abt amanda bc of the romance being cut. Like i'm almost certain if I had chosen a romance with her we could have gotten a way better conversation from it.

anyways !! max almost crying :(

all lesbians like gwen bro

OH?? OKAY B&E

MY CAT?? IS MY CAT OKAY?? IRIS?? BABY??

this is the first time idk who coulda done this. i have so many guesses but i have zero clue fs.

I FOUND THE BABY DONT WORRY GUYS

poor sweetiepie is so scared :(

oh thats a lame reveal. its js another max

MUSIC SLAPS THO 🔥🔥🔥🔥

so im hearing that alderman was just a lil bitch

so the 'dopplegangers' are actually a shapeshifter??

THE SHAPESHIFTER IS SAFI????? WHAT??

okay i'm going straight into Episode 4 rn cuz i'm hooked but that was fire. it felt more like a Life Is Strange episode then the other 2 and yall know i LOVE characters showing any emotions ever lol

[ask-healthy-light]

With the young Princess in his arms, covered by the blanket, Discord smiled warmly as he wiped away his tears with yet another arm, greatly amusing Flurry, who started giggling even more at Discord's hilarity, which made the others smile and laugh in turn; not long after, Sunburst, who was in grave need of a rest, laid his head down on the couch, closed his eyes, and fell asleep almost instantly.

As Flurry was safe in Discord's embrace and was enthusiastically babbling along with the great Lord of Chaos, neither Spike nor Twila objected to Sunburst taking time to rest, for they understood how tough it was to care of a little one, especially one as powerful as Flurry; but now, since Sunburst was asleep, and Discord was looking after Flurry, Twila asked Spike whether he knew Light was okay.

Though she had not often left the Empire since she was adopted and crowned a Princess, she had been warned about the treacherous cold of the Mountains that surrounded the Empire, and her parents, her sister, teachers, anybody she spoke to had told her not to venture thither under any circumstances, and she was uncertain whether all the warnings she had been given had been blown out of proportion.

Discreetly gesturing to Discord, still wrapped in nigh countless blankets, Spike quietly told Twila that he ended up like this after spending barely a minute outside of the protective barrier, in the cold, despite wearing many layers of insulating clothing; had it not been for Light shouting at him to get Discord back safely, he continued, he doubted that Discord would have lasted long out there.

Luckily, with the help of a couple of townsfolk and Guards, he managed to get Discord to the Palace in one piece, which was mere moments before they met her, Sunburst, and Flurry Heart; though, since Discord was still in possession of their Amulet, Spike wondered how Light fared, and he knew not if they were in need of help, or if they would be gone for much longer, and worry began to grow again.

In the Northern Mountains, meanwhile, Light was greatly relieved to find that the storm appeared to be located nigh exclusively at the base of the Mountain, and they had a much easier time traversing the area at the peaks; they would enjoy the view more, if it wasn't for the threat the Shade posed, or an ever so slight chance they could encounter some dangerous creature here, without their sword.

A thought lingered in the back of their mind when they saw the stark contrast between the sunny and cloudless sky they were standing under on the Mountain, compared to the turbulent and opaque storm, surrounding the entirety of the Empire, as well as the massive storm clouds that formed below where they stood, rolling over the city without so much as a gust of wind to cause rain and hail to fall.

They tried to avoid worrying about this, and focused on themselves, for they still knew not what it was they had to find, only that it was told in legend, which may not even be true; but they held on to hope, for if their book of Ancient Tales was any indication, many stories and legends from aeons ago, some too terrible to remember, were true, though whether partially or entirely, they knew not.

As there was little wind nor pouring weather, and the Sun was still rising ever higher, though they had to wear their protective eyewear, lest their eyes from the reflected sunlight, Light could take the time to look around for any signs of a path, or a carved sign, or any other markings that folks of times past used to traverse the perilous paths through the Mountains before the rails were laid.

Eventually, on one of the Mountains to the North-West of the Empire, they found some ancient carved steps in the hillside, which they figured belonged to a path that lead across the Mountains, to the Northernmost civilisation of which they knew in the World: Yakyakistan; but the Yaks were isolated, and Light doubted they knew much about magic, save for all of the ancient traditions they followed.

Still, as it was the oldest sign they had found, they decided to follow it, at least for a while…

(Thanks for reading! And if you enjoyed, please reblog! Thanks in advance!)

Send an ask or request! | Start at the beginning! | Next part!

Featuring: Princess Twila from @twila-bloggin and @vaderssolace

[deathlygristly]

We finished Hello Monster last night and it was hilarious.

Not in a "trying to be funny and managed it" way but in a "everyone is having nice calm civilized conversations with prolific serial killers and then casually walking away from them after being menaced" way.

Just rambling about the not on purpose hilarity:

Seriously there was a scene with the ahjussi serial killer. who went around killing abusive parents and collecting their kids to train up as killers. menacing the female lead and another member of her cop team a bit, and then it cut to the female lead and the other cop just casually walking down the street. Never explained how they got away from the serial killer threatening them, but I guess maybe they just said, okay, that was a fun bit of menace, see you later, and he said okay same time tomorrow, see you, and they walked out.

The male lead's little brother was taken by the sunbae serial killer as a little kid after the sunbae killed their dad and then the serial killer raised him, and it's clearly said in the show that the little brother has killed nine people. He was the one paying cargo ship workers to throw the cargo containers with the bodies overboard.

The little brother had no affect at all ever and he didn't seem to have any real motive/philosophy as a serial killer beyond targeting people who he thought had abandoned others, so I was curious what his MO was and how he killed people. He goes to confront the OG serial killer and I was thinking oooh are we finally going to see how he kills people? And then he just takes a knife from the knife block in the kitchen and waves it at the OG killer while yelling a bit about how the OG serial killer gaslighted him about his brother abandoning him. The OG killer stabs him, the male lead comes and eventually calls an ambulance, and the OG killer disappears off somewhere.

The little brother recovers from the stabbing and the male lead hugs him, cooks for him, apologizes to him and says it's his fault, and then it looked like he took his serial killer little brother to a long stay mental hospital somewhere in Europe? Because that's helpful for serial killers?

Then after a year at the mental hospital he leaves an envelope with paperwork for a new identity with his serial killer brother and a message that the brother can either go live under the new identity or turn himself in. The male lead comes back to Korea, where he kisses the female lead and they walk down the street. They pass the OG sunbae serial killer who's like haha you can't catch me and the male lead says eh, we will one day, and that's the end.

We laughed so much, so I guess it was a good time. Don't go watching it for quality or excitement or a good story, but if you like to laugh at silliness there's plenty of that.

Yes I just spoiled the ending but it came out in 2015 and I highly doubt anyone who might read down this far was going to watch it anyway.

We also started the new drama Perfect Family last night, which has a lot of fire so I approve of it. There's even a shot of a closeup of a character's eye with a large structure fire reflected in it!!!! Peak drama.

[dionysiospsychas-photography]

PHOTO TRIP: VANCOUVER ISLAND, PART 1

… The summer of 2022 marked my tenth year living in Vancouver. And I admit here that I visited Vancouver Island only recently, last autumn, and it was a fun and marvellous trip.

Last winter I suggested a photography trip to my photo amigos Sharon, Colin, and Syd, and they easily accepted. Visiting Ucluelet, Tofino, and Pacific Rim National Park was going to be awesome they confirmed; it is so beautiful; it is out of this world. What a place to celebrate my habitation anniversary, I thought, albeit mildly, but especially travelling and exploring with my friends. I will say already: it was incredible!

We started planning very early, in March for a road trip in October, which could be considered unreasonably early, but… f!… we found a sweet looking cottage to rent (Reef Point Cottages). The rest was relatively easy to organize, and as everyone had their part to complete, it was stress free. Essentially, it was six months of doing little and becoming more and more excited. Of course, there was a last minute visit by me to the outdoors store to buy well-deserved, new, cozy hiking socks.

Howe Sound, 2022

As the ferry sailed out of How Sound, the landscapes in the early morning hour felt serene. Everything was ultramarine, and the sky beyond the peaked and rounded landscapes in the distance was a light rose, the anti-twilight, graduating upwards back to the same ultramarine. And it was all… sigh… I much like ridding ferries, but that stretch made me feel happy-calm, an emotional experience I would have many times during our trip, along with a few hard emotional moments that brought relief.

Georgia Strait, 2022

Out onto the Strait of Georgia there was low lying fog on the surface of the water. Similarly to earlier, there was a light rose band in between the layers of light blue. The sun was also rising to the side, so as the ferry sailed to Nanaimo the light diminished across the horizon, and so did the distant cloud cover. And again, it was all… sigh… I delight in foggy occasions, so of course I spent time walking on deck, and especially standing at the bow gazing ahead and felling the cold air flow roughly around me. The waves were calm. It was fun to watch.

And that is just the ferry ride.

Of course, I had my camera with me, as we all did because that is what enthusiastic photogs do. And if I do not mention using the camera further on, know that it is always still with me.

The Old Country Market, 2022

My friends had mentioned the market with the goats on the roof again (yup, The Old Country Market – Goats on the Roof, in Coombs) and that we should definitely stop to see them because hilarity, it was on the way anyway, we could get coffee (!), and there would be cheese (!!!). The store was impressive to be sure, with lots of fine épicerie, but there was unfortunately no immediate and practical need for a large block of cheese. I thought they made their own cheese but they do not, they sell a great plethora of cheese tho. The buildings were quaint, the goats were good looking and hilarious, and as a whole it was a nice stop. If you are reading this, I would recommend.

Okay, so once again, à l'aventure. There is less to say about the ride to the coast, but it was smooth and at times wow for me, especially the drive past Port Alberni that had lots of mountains, rivers and lakes. I have never seen it before, but it did remind me of the beautiful drive thru the White Mountains in New Hampshire towards the coast to Portland, which I did a lot decades ago.

Cathedral Grove, 2022

We did stop to walk the trails of Cathedral Grove (in MacMillan Provincial Park). Altho dry and messy because of the recent drought, the incredible size of the trees, especially those fallen, were a cool prelude to what I would see in the forests along the coast. The trees in Vancouver and the Lower Mainland parks are big, but these were stunningly bigger. The boardwalk that makes up the trail is set a few feet above the forest floor and negotiates around the great trees, untypical of trails I have walked, so I think the experience is quite intimate. If you are reading this, I would also recommend, plus, WCs.

Wild Pacific Trail at Amphitrite Point Lighthouse, 2022

Otherwise, we wanted to head straight to the coast and experience sundown. So then, blah, blah, etc. and we drove into Ulcuelet, which is a cute town and more about it and baked goods later on. We freshened up at the cottage, which I was relieved was actually sweet, and went to Amphitrite Point Lighthouse. I will admit, I thought it was called Anthracite, but it is named after a mythological ocean deity, aptly, not a problematic but nice-looking black mineral.

Shoreline at Amphitrite Point Lighthouse, 2022

We heard the strong sound of waves from the trail and we all smiled. It was a cool spot; the squat lighthouse is set just behind the edge of the rocky, craggy shoreline. And there were lots of people sitting on mounds watching the sun setting. The clouds were long and frayed, and moved swiftly, and looked like the waves crashing on the rock. It truly was awe inspiring – sunset from the Pacific Ocean coast! Some of us were so excited that we forgot to bracket exposures, but with the crashing and the swift-ing… Still, we made some nice photos.

We did not walk the trail that evening, but went back to base to rest.

We did not walk the trail any other day either, unfortunately it seems as I found spectacular photos of views from the Wild Pacific Trail, the type of scenes I specifically wanted to witness. Still, one, we will visit Ucluelet again we agreed and will not forget; two, we experienced many other spectacular spots during our trip; and three, Colin took us to Big Beach the next morning and it was wonderful, of  which I will tell you about in the next post.

How about you; have you visited Vancouver Island and the Pacific Coast? What did you like about it? Send me an email and tell me what you think.

DP, 2023-01-26

[lovecanbesostrange]

Out of these choices I HAVE to vote for my beloved quartet. We never got enough interaction, even though the hilarity of it is endless. (Yes, okay, and when I put my shipping goggles on all I see is a B'Elanna/Seven & Harry/Tom doubledate, ssshhhh, not even going there now).

Harry and B'Elanna love to prank Tom. He is their guy, they are allowed. Then Seven joins in and Tom thinks for a hot minute this will even out the playing field. He is friendly towards Seven early on, he includes her, surely she must be on his side - WRONG! Sorry, pilot bro, it's team engineer against you.

Luckily Harry enjoys all of Tom's hobbies and they agree on something. Captain Proton time is important. Seven has her own Opinion about recreational activities, but while exploring her humanity and social interactions, she will have some praise for the effort Tom puts into his holodeck creations. He does thorough research and has a remarkable attention for detail. Acceptable for a human. Now Tom and Harry will find a way to make Seven enjoy the holodeck. B'Elanna gives her own suggestions that start off very sarcastic, but ugh, if this is what it takes so Seven will occupy her free time outside of HER engine room. The Doctor is so peeved when he finds out. He IS a hologram, and he oversees Seven's journey from a medical/physical/psychological perspective, clearly-- that's it, B'Elanna is so in to create the best Borg-approved simulation ever.

Seven is in peak physical condition. Her hand-eye coordination is off the charts, as the kids say. Remember the little game of ping-pong we got? More sports please! Nice 2 vs 2 games. B'Elanna and Seven team up for that, girls vs boys. For obvious reasons. Gonna wipe the floor with them. For trivia Seven prefers to team with Harry. He has a system to learn the most random things. Tom calls foul on this anyway, because Seven simply knows too much.

They are team Delta Flyer, those seats were made for their well rounded butts specifically. They should have crashed with it together at least once. (Although my favorite crash scenario involves Seven, Torres, Tuvok and the Doctor, but that's another story.) Or just imagine them on an away mission and when they return Voyager is in disarray, (like a TNG throwback; Genesis or Timescape). The energy when those four work together to solve a weird mystery while their whole Voyager family is trapped a wobbly nightmare anomaly.

There is a time Samantha Wildman gets to go on an away mission, but oh, Neelix is coming too, the designated babysitter. It's probably less than a day, Naomi will be fine, but she asks Seven to be the one with the official responsibility. Naomi responds well to Seven, Samantha knows all homework will be done and this is fine. But then Tom beeps at the door, because he knows Seven will be all about The Rules and hallo, when your Mom is out for a day it's an unspoken rule to have extra fun. B'Elanna wants to see that conversation. Harry shows up with a boardgame he liked as a kid. Naomi says she heard about Captain Proton, but Tom says she is too young for that. Harry shrugs and says they could adjust for that. And somehow now the five end up doing play pretend in the Wildman quarters. Seven points out every flaw in the story and makes suggestions how the imaginary evil party could succeed, so Harry starts to play that part (he is a band kid, but there is an inner drama kid underneath). The building of a pillow fort is involved. Naomi agrees she is too young for the real thing if there is the type of kissing involved Tom and B'Elanna showcase at some point.

Tom doesn't realize how Seven and B'Elanna use their connection to him to get around physical check-ups with the Doctor. Harry's loyalty is tested, because he notices. Rat them out and save Tom from the embarrassment?

There is a special entry in Janeway's log about the two week long prank war. Those four where at the core of it. You cannot say it was Tom's fault alone. The way Seven and Harry played with the internal sensors from Ops and Astrometrics to send B'Elanna on a wild goose chase for a malfunctioning gel pack that didn't even exist. And how B'Elanna retaliated by getting into Cargo Bay 2 and putting everything in there half an inch to the left.

Sometimes Seven takes solace in the fact she can always work with Tuvok to counteract the chaotic energy she is sucked in. But she appreciates Tom's spontaneity, B'Elanna's passion and Harry's optimism. Don't make her admit it, but they shape her view on humanity a lot.

We all know how wonderful the friendships between Janeway and Tuvok, Tom and Harry, and Janeway and Chakotay are (honestly Janeway's friendships with all the main characters are pretty interesting and get talked about at least occasionally) and of course Tuvok and Neelix's odd friendship gets attention if nothing else because of that time they shared a body (RIP Tuvix). However there's a lot going on with the other characters that I think is heartwarming and interesting.

[adarlingwrites]

Leave it to the Wind

Summary: Between deadlines, an awful transport system, and aswangs lurking about in the shadows, you have much to worry about as a college student in Manila, and it's so much that your social life is practically dead. Your wind people roommates want to help you remedy that.

Words: 9343

Relationships: The Kambal/Reader (Crispin/Reader/Basilio)

Warnings: Adult content, alcohol, brief scene of sexual harassment

Author’s Notes: God, the fandom is so thirsty for the Kambal, and so am I. Finally, some Filipino himbo representation.

The premise is: Hannah and Amie decides to play matchmaker. Hilarity ensues. Smut ensues. Please be nice, I based the characterizations of the character on the Netflix series and Trese wiki pages since I couldn't get my hands on the original comics yet oof. Some words, like terms of endearment and curse words, will remain in Filipino. Translations are provided. Reader is AFAB and is referred to with female pronouns.

Reposting this from AO3 with all three chapters in one post. A Filipino (Taglish) translation is in the works!

I

You don’t know how they managed to convince you, to be honest.

You rarely ever go out at night anymore. So many strange incidents transpire in Manila’s narrow streets. Just recently, you’ve heard of a new story about a tikbalang who allegedly participated in illegal street races.

So when your roommates and friends Amie and Hannah invited you for a night out, you hesitated. You gave them every excuse you can think of; you needed to do laundry, you needed to study, you needed to finish a project, and so on.

You know that the two of them are wind people, but you can’t help but think. Which of the various stories you had been hearing are real? What else in this world you haven’t witnessed yet?

“Aw, you’re such a buzzkill! Pretty please? You don’t go out with us as often. Enjoy yourself a little,” Amie whines, lying on the sofa of your living room.

On the other hand, Hannah turns to you with a mischievous grin on her face. “C’mon, get dressed already,” she commanded. “There are some total hotties we’d like you to meet! One of them might catch your eye!”

“I told you, I don’t need a relationship. You two try this every week. How do you even know so many people?” you retort, laughing softly at yourself.

“Well, our night lives are active,” Hannah retorted. “Don’t forget our sex lives!” the other added. Hearing those words, you felt your face get flushed with heat.

You needed a good fuck.

“Damn it, fine! As long as you pay for me.”

They finally got you to say yes.

As the night went on, you went to several bars, and you swore that you had explored every crevice of the city. It doesn’t help that the guy Amie and Hannah were with, a tall, dark and handsome man with flowing locks of black hair, drove like a demon. You got around quickly in no time.

Around an hour after midnight, you’re all exhausted from a night of dancing and mingling. None of the people your friends introduced to you caught your attention. At that point, you just wanted a stiff drink to unwind.

Voicing it to your drinking buddies, they nod in agreement.

“I know just the place, in Malate,” the man you’re with said. “Quiet. Discreet. I can take you there, if you want.”

“You mean The Diabolical, right? Let’s go! Text Crispin and Basilio, they might be hangin’ there too,” Amie croons.

A chuckle escapes your lips upon hearing their names. “Huh? Were they named after the characters in Jose Rizal’s novel?”

“I think so? Whatever! But seriously though… Those two can totally make you scream their names louder than Sisa ever did! Best lay I ever had!”

The remark made you laugh so hard, you swore you can be heard in the next city. “What the fuck! Amie, gaga ka, Sisa was their mom! The context of that scene was rough.”

Hannah’s mischievous grin spreads on her face once more, and she gently elbows your side. “Well, if you’re lucky, in this context you’d be crying their names while your eyes roll to the back of your head.”

You’ll never admit it, but you had hoped all their teasing would come true.

It didn’t take long for the four of you to reach your destination. As you enter The Diabolical, a strange chill envelopes you. The air feels different inside; it’s almost as if you stepped in a different world. Perhaps it’s the alcohol, but when you looked around, you saw a duwende sitting by the bar. Or was it called a nuno? At the end of the bar, you saw them; two men both dressed in black suits. One has short hair, while the other one has longer, reaching past his shoulders. However, they’re facing away from you. Only the back of their head and part of their cheeks were visible where you stood.

You snapped out of it when the man you three are with spoke up. “I’m gonna call it a night. Have fun, you three.”

“For real? Wow Maliksi, this is the first time I ever saw you wanting to leave early. Aren’t you gonna stop by and say hi to Alex?” Hannah asks him.

“Maybe next time,” Maliksi answers back, a somber expression on his face. “Oh em gee, did you two fight? Wait, what are you two?” Amie asks.

“Whatever. It’s complicated. I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Your friends nodded and let Maliksi be. He waves at your group, and heads out the door. The engine of his car roars to life, and his car screeches away.

As the car moved farther away though, it seems that the screeching of the tires turned into hoofbeats.

Perhaps it’s just your imagination.

“Amie! Hannah! Have a drink! Hey, who’s that with you? Is that the person you’ve been wanting us to meet for ages now?”

Your head turns to where the voice was coming from; one of the men in the suits, the one with short hair in particular. You finally had a good look on their faces.

Twins?

“Crispin! Meet our friend! This is…”

As Amie and Hannah introduce you to the Twins, you can’t help but stare. You took the sight of their features in; they’re tall, with broad shoulders, and hard muscle underneath that black suit and white tie ensemble. They have wide noses with a high bridge, prominent bone structure, and a prominent widow’s peak.

Merciful Bathala, they’re gorgeous.

What caught your attention the most are their eyes. They're pitch black, save for the small reflection of light.

Are these people even human?

“Stare at them like that any longer and they might melt,” Amie teases. The two of your friends are giving you an ear-splitting grin due to your reaction to the Twins.

“I, uh-” you stuttered, and you could feel the heat rising in your cheeks.

“Hey, don’t be shy. You can sit between us, miss. We’re all friends here,” the twin with the longer hair says. If the other one is Crispin, then this must be Basilio.

Behind you, your friends are already giggling. They took their places next to the twins and leaned on their biceps. Across from you, the bartender comes to take your order.

“What’ll it be, kid?” he asks.

For some reason, you’re panicking. Maybe it’s because of the alcohol in your system. Or maybe it’s because you’re sandwiched between the twins. “Uh, what would you recommend, manong?”

Laughter erupted from the twins. “Hank, she called you manong!” Basilio teases while grinning like a fucking dog. “Geez, are you really that old?” Crispin eggs him on, giving him a shit-eating grin. Hank takes a wet rag he uses to wipe down the countertop and strikes the two down. “You goddamn assholes!”

You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing with them.

“Ow! Alright, we’re sorry, we’re sorry. Get them the best seller, Hank. We’ll pay for their tab,” Basilio says, and Hannah and Amie squeals with joy.

“Oh em gee, you boys are so sweet! Thank youuu!”

As Hank prepares you a drink, you try conversing with the twins. “You two seem fun to have as drinking buddies.”

Hank turns around to reach a bottle from the shelf. “Those two are mischievous little shits, that’s for sure. You know, when these two were kids...”

“Hey man, don’t embarrass us like that in front of our new friend,” Crispin whines.

While the three continues fucking around, you leaned back slightly to glimpse at Amie, who was trying to get your attention for a while now. She points to her phone, and you fetch yours from your bag.

You read your group chat with them. “Soooo, do you like, like them?” Hannah’s message said.

“You’re into them aren’t you? You got so shy around them, it’s so cute!” Amie’s message said.

“Right? It’s rare to see you so flustered!”

You typed away furiously at your phone, cautious to not let the twins beside you see the conversation.

“Well, they’re an improvement from the ones you introduced me to earlier. Easier on the eyes, too…”

Your friends giggled, and as their drinks arrived, they stood up. “Girl, we’re gonna leave you with them, there’s some super hot tikbalangs who just came in the bar. Byeeee!”

“Hey, wait!”

They didn’t heed your words and went to sit on the tikbalangs’ laps.

Fuck, tikbalangs are real? Is Maliksi a tikbalang too?

“And off they go, flirting with those beasts after they’ve used us for drinks,” Crispin laments, voice dripping with light-hearted sarcasm.

“It’s not like it’s the first time we got used by them though,” Basilio adds, cringing.

You can’t help but laugh.  “Yeah, I’ve heard.”

Basilio’s head whips towards you, sweat gathering on his brow. “Seriously?! Shit, what did they say about us?”

“All good things, don’t you worry,” you answered.

“Nah, I need to hear what they said word for word,” the twin with long hair responds. “This is making me paranoid!”

Crispin moves closer to you, Basilio puts a friendly arm around your shoulder, and you can only smile. All of you are inebriated and if you were sober, and if someone else dared to get this close to you, you might’ve slapped them. But you feel good about the Twins, and your roommates never put you in harm’s way, so your trust for them extended to the brothers, somehow.

“Just tell us already,” Crispin slurs. “Tell us what they said about us. We’re curious.”

“Fine, fine. Okay, Amie and Hannah mentioned your names when Maliksi suggested that we head here to drink. Then, I mentioned that your names came from Rizal’s novels.”

“Then Amie said,” you continued, pausing briefly to come up with an impression of your roommate’s speech. “‘Seriously though… Those two can totally make you scream their names louder than Sisa ever did! Best lay I ever had!’ Fuck, it was so messed up!”

“That’s messed up, alright,” Basilio sputters, his face a deep shade of crimson. “I’m this hot and those are the only details they can spare?!”

“Ok, but that Sisa joke was kind of funny though. But it was still fucked up,” Crispin adds, and he takes a sip of his drink.

“Hold your horses, the story’s not done yet,” you say. You’re starting to feel more confident around the two.

Your conversation went places, until you found yourselves drinking until three in the morning, and at that point, it’s only just the four of you in the bar; Hank, the Twins, and you. Even Hannah and Amie are nowhere to be seen. Knowing them, they probably took the tikbalangs they were flirting with back to your apartment.

They didn’t even wait for you. Looks like they’re really setting you up tonight. Maybe they wanted the apartment to themselves tonight, and they got exactly what they wanted.

You had planned on getting up to go to the restroom, but when you tried standing up, you almost fell from the chair. The Twins caught you before you landed face first against the floor.

“She’s had enough to drink,” Hank comments. They set you on a chair with a backrest. “How will she get home? We can’t send her off in a cab at this rate. The train doesn't run this late either.”

“Hannah left her behind too,” Crispin adds.

“Hey, how are we gonna deal with this?” Basilio asks. “We can get you home once we sober up a little. It’s fine if you-”

Basilio never got to finish what he was going to say, because you nodded off against his stomach, and puked your lunch out.

You don’t remember anything after that.

When you awaken, the sun is already high up, and the first thing that greets you is the fan in the ceiling. Your muscles are screaming at you, and your throat feels dry. Memories of last night came crashing back and you started sweating in horror. Maybe it’s just a drunken dream, but it felt all too real.

You were flirting with these gorgeous twins, had too much to drink, and at some point puked all over one of the twins’ shoes.

And now, you don’t know whose bedroom you are in. You check yourself, and you’re still wearing the same clothes, with nothing out of place. There are no bruises or marks on your body either. You looked around you, but there was no one else in the room.

The doors crack open slightly, and you see two pairs of void-black eyes.

“I… um… good morning?”

“It’s… already 2 in the afternoon,” one of them says. He has long hair. This one is the twin you threw up on.

“Why don’t you have some lunch?” the other one said.

You just nodded and said nothing else, ashamed of yourself. You threw up on one of them and now you’re eating at their table. You just wanted the ground to swallow you alive.

“Sorry for puking on you last night,” you near-whispered to Basilio after you swallowed your first bite of food.

The silence broke when Crispin roared with laughter, tears pooling at the corner of his eyes. Meanwhile, Basilio was glaring daggers at his brother. He’s frowning like a child whose toy got taken from him. “Sure, keep laughing, kuya.”

“I’ll never show my face here again, I promise,” you say to them, hiding your face behind your hands.

“What’re you talking about? Forget about it. We’re friends now, right?” Basilio tells you, smiling. “But next time, vomit on my brother too.”

“No one’s throwing up because I won’t be allowing any of you to get wasted that bad ever again,” Hank announces as he enters the room with a carafe in his hand. “Bossing’s not gonna like it if the bar ends up smelling as bad as Basilio’s room. Here, have some coffee.”

“We should introduce you to bossing next time too. She’s not here at the moment,” Crispin adds. “Let’s do this again next week.”

The invitation made you smile, and you poured yourself a cup of coffee. You continued eating the rest of your meal.

“...my room doesn’t smell that, right?” Basilio asks after a few moments of silence.

“Gago, it stinks so bad. It’s why we made the guest stay at my room, because if she stayed at yours she could’ve died from how bad it is,” Crispin exclaims. “Seriously, how can you live with bringing women to your room at that point?”

“Kuya, you’re embarrassing me to our guest!”

Translations for non-Filipino speaking folks:

bossing: a somewhat affectionate way to say “boss”. Comes from the old tradition of adding -eng or -ing to ones name to make a nickname, e.g. Luciana - Lucing

Gago/gaga (ka): (you) idiot/moron - someone stupid, foolish or ignorant

Tikbalang: creature from Filipino mythology similar to a centaur. They are hulking beasts with a horse's head.

manong: a term for endearment to an elderly male relative, or elderly men in general. Originally an Ilokano term referring to the first born son in a nuclear family.

kuya: big brother. Can be used to refer to one's own older brother, someone else's older brother, or an older peer or male acquaintance.

II

Author’s Notes: This chapter was heavily inspired by Bita and the Botflies' song Manghuhula.

Warnings: brief scene of sexual harrassment

After washing up, the Twins accompanied you to the gate, exchanging glances at each other behind your back. Little did they know, you definitely noticed it.

“Wait,” Basilio says, tapping your shoulder lightly with a large hand.

Crispin takes his phone out of his pocket. His younger brother proceeds to do the same. “Give us your phone. We’ll add our numbers, and you can text us if something happens,” he says.

“Or when you get home safe,” Basilio adds.

You look at the two of them back and forth. “This isn’t just an elaborate excuse for the two of you to get my number, right?”

Neither of the two spoke, giving each other a nervous glance.

Their reaction made you laugh out loud, and you took out your phone from your bag. “Here. I’ll give you my Facespace too.”

With the tension broken, the three of you exchange a chuckle. You punch in your number in their phones, while they did the same to yours. Crispin looks over his brother’s shoulder and frowns.

“Epal,” Crispin says to his brother, snatching your phone away from him. The older twin types something in, and it’s the younger one’s turn to stick his nose in. Basilio attempts to get the phone back, cursing all the time.

“You’re going to break her phone, gago,” the older twin curses, pushing a palm against Basilio’s face. “Then let it go! You’re the epal, I wasn’t done yet,” the younger one snaps back.

You give them a look of irritation, and check out what they’re arguing about.

“What the hell are you two grown-ass men fighting about?” you ask as you butt in to look at what they’re doing.

A loud snort bubbles from you as you see it; Basilio added “the hot twin” next to his contact name. Crispin added “the hotter twin”. Now, the former wanted to outdo his older brother.

Against your better judgment, you say, “You’re twins. You look like each other. You’re both hot. Now stop fighting over my phone.”

Perhaps it’s the afternoon heat, but there is a tinge of red in their cheeks after your remark. You waved them goodbye as you got in a tricycle that’ll get you to the nearest train station.

The MRT, in some strange miraculous twist of fate, isn’t as packed as usual. It’s still populated, but there were a few seats waiting to be taken. You sit down somewhere away from direct sunlight, and you take out your phone to tell Hannah and Amie that you’re on the way home.

The first thing you see is a text from Basilio. Then, a text from Crispin. You tell them both that you’re on the train now, completely forgetting about messaging your roommates. To pass the time, you launch the Facespace app and decide to look up their profiles, only to find out that they’ve already sent you a friend request.

Upon seeing Crispin’s profile, you did your damn best to stifle a laugh.

His work description says “works at the Krusty Krab,” but that wasn’t the craziest thing about his profile. At first, the Bible verse in his bio caught you off guard, thinking that someone like him didn’t seem religious, but when you quickly looked up “Ezekiel 23:20,” you did your best not to howl with laughter.

Basilio’s isn’t any better.

In his work description, he put “Model at For Her Magazine,” and “edi sa puso mo.” Then you scroll down to see a thirst trap of him pulling his shirt up with his teeth, and you can feel the heat rising to your cheeks again. Well, at least that work description is believable.

They’re- what was that term your younger university friends were using again?- himbos.

They’re definitely himbos.

Arriving at your place, you slot your key inside the doorknob and twist. As you enter the door, the heavy, musky scent of sex and sweat hits your face, and you regret getting too wasted last night and losing your chance to hook up with one of the Twins.

Or both.

Both?

Regardless, at least they’ve invited you again to hang out next week.

You raise your eyebrow and cross your arms at the scene before you. Cans of beer litter the living room, and your roommates are taking a nap by the couch. A tikbalang comes out of the bathroom, glamor off, and you snort as you watch him duck under the door frame because of his massive height.

“It’s already four in the afternoon. Time to go, big guy.”

He nods awkwardly in acknowledgment, morphing into his human disguise, and exiting your apartment.

You sit between your roommates, rousing them from their sleep. “I’m not going to clean this mess up,” you tell them, motioning to the trashed state of the living room, and reaching for the remote to turn the TV on. You just want to take a shower afterwards and sleep in your own bed tonight.

After rubbing the sleep from their eyes, your roommates near-tackles you on the couch, a curious, excited look on their faces. You forgot all about what you were watching and stared at them in surprise.

“So how did it go? Did you get to hook up with any of them?” Amie asks.

“Or both of them?” Hannah adds.

“Gaga, nothing like that happened.”

The two of them let you go with disappointed looks on their faces. “So sayang! Here we were thinking you finally have a sex life,” one of them says as you lean back on the backrest, closing your eyes as they continue to pester you for details.

“Why are you two so determined to get me to screw someone?” you finally snapped, amused and irked at the same time.

“Because you’ve been doing nothing but totally stressing yourself out! See how super fun it is to let go every now and then?”

“Thanks for the new drinking buddies, girls, but I have my fingers to keep me company. Hookups are too much work,” you lie to them, eyes still closed.

“That’s a toe-curling, full-body orgasm you’re missing out on, girl!”

“That’s assuming that the person I’m with knows what they’re doing,” you retorted.

One of them pokes your side with an elbow, and you assume it’s Hannah. “The Twins do.”

You opened your eyes, and you guessed right; it’s Hannah. You give her a look, before rolling your eyes, appearing to look disinterested. The smirk tugging at the edge of your lips says otherwise, though.

“So what happened last night?” Amie asks.

“I got wasted and threw up on Basilio’s shoes. Then, I ended up sleeping in Crispin’s room. When I woke up, they fed me and sent me home,” you tell them. Your roommates giggle at the story.

“Ah, speaking of which, I gotta let them know I got home,” you said off-hand, and somehow the remark only spurred your wind people roommates on.

“Yieee, you’re friends with them on Facespace already!” Amie quips, leaning in to see what you’re typing. Playfully, you move your phone away from her to conceal what you’re typing.

“Make a group chat with them!” Hannah exclaims, taking your phone away from you. You tried taking it back, but Amie joins in the mischief and blocks you from doing so.

When you got your phone back, the deed was done, and the chat was renamed to a single eggplant emoji. The like button was replaced by an eggplant emoji too.

Panicking, you add your roommates to the group to avoid looking suspicious, and swiftly type up a defense.

“Please ignore that, Hannah made this chat using my account.”

The teasing never stopped after that.

Weeks passed and you never bothered to change it, though.

It’s been about two months since your first encounter with the Twins. You’re becoming a familiar face at The Diabolical, going every Saturday to see them. Sometimes Hannah and Amie didn’t accompany you anymore. You’ve met the Twins’ bossing a few times, who turned out to be none other than Alexandra Trese. You’ve heard of her exploits and the two imposing bodyguards who were almost always with her. It surprised you that they’re none other than the Twins you knew, but it made perfect sense. Those two were jacked, and those muscles aren’t only for show.

Of course, because of your increasing presence in the bar, it didn’t take long for the rumors to circulate. Word on the street is both of the Twins had a thing for you, and neither is making a move out of consideration for the other. They are waiting for you to move.

You elected to ignore them, perfectly happy with your arrangement of having two handsome men to keep you company while you unwind. The thought of getting together with one of them, or even both of them did cross your mind a few times, however.

Ultimately, you wouldn’t know what to do if the day comes that you’ll have to confront how you feel and choose between the two.

Do you have to?

Crispin and Basilio are twins, but they’re distinct from each other. The older is more serious, with a dryer sense of humor, while the younger is goofier, and somewhat softer. One complements the other, and they’re both good company despite their differences.

Speak of the devil. Your phone buzzes and you see that the eggplant chat is active. The Twins are inviting you to The Diabolical again.

“See you guys at eight,” you type in. Someone reacts with an eggplant to your message. Then the next few messages were nothing but eggplant emojis, followed by Basilio sending “#TeamTalong”. Crispin cusses him out for it, but sends the same message right after.

Yeah, that became a thing among the five of you.

You and the wind girls got dressed and took a taxi to the bar, your favorite jacket draped over your shoulders. Pressured by your roommates, you wore something nicer tonight; a black faux leather dress that hugs your figure deliciously. The shiny fabric added to the effect. The six bottles of Pulang Tikbalang beer the three of you shared before going out might’ve contributed to your newfound bravado.

But now that you’re actually wearing it outside your apartment, you feel a little reluctant.

“Maybe wearing this is a bad idea,” you mutter to no one in particular, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear out of self-consciousness.

Amie taps you from behind. “Oh hush, that outfit is totally sexy,” she comments. “Finally ready to get dicked down tonight, girl?”

“Shhh, gaga ka, manong driver can hear you.”

That didn’t deter them from making more inappropriate comments, much to the manong's ire.

It’s nine already when you get there, you’re in the Philippines after all. The merriment is already in full swing when you step through the door. Hannah and Amie went ahead and sat next to their lay of the week. The Twins wave you over from their usual spot, but before you can reach them, a man you’ve never seen before tries to get your attention, snaking an arm around your waist.

“Hey baby. You’re a regular here, right? Want to drink with me?”

“Sorry, I’m here with someone else,” you tell him, moving away.

“Ah, here to see the Twins? Why don’t you ditch them for a change of pace and come with me, babe?”

“Not interested,” you flat out said. “Please move, or I’ll make you move.”

To your surprise, the man drops his glamor and reveals himself to be a kapre. He looms over you, cigar in his mouth, and you can feel the tension rising. People are starting to stare, and your friends took notice of it too.

“Try,” he huffs, puffing smoke to your face. You give him a sour glare while trying not to cough.

Before your roommates or the Twins could come to your aid, you panicked and saw an empty bottle of Pulang Tikbalang on a nearby table. Emboldened by the alcohol in your veins, you shatter the bottle and point the jagged edge at the hulking beast, hands shaking. You are a tiny thing compared to the enormous creature before you, after all.

“Don’t you dare look down on me.”

“Already doing that, honey.”

“I’m not your honey,” you say as you press the edge against his stomach, not enough to draw blood, but hard enough to hurt.

“I love it when they fight back,” the kapre croons.

Under the haze of alcohol, you were more than ready to shove the edge in, consequences be damned.

Before things could escalate, Crispin takes the broken bottle off of your hands and steers you away from the stranger, while Basilio steps in to defuse the tension. “Hey, why don’t you back off, pal? Our friend said no. You wouldn’t want us to tell our bossing to ban you from the place because of this misunderstanding now, don’t you?”

Heart in your throat, you turn to the Twins, then to the kapre. The tree giant pauses, looking at the three of you, then smirks.

“Heh. Fine. But if you torpe whelps don’t make a move, I will.”

The giant puts his glamor back on and skulks away.

“Wow, what a jerk! He only left you alone when the boys stepped in,” Hannah quips, tossing her hair in indignation.

“You almost didn’t need rescuing, but I’d hate to help Hank mop the blood off the floor later,” Basilio comments, nudging you gently with an elbow. His eyes go a little lower from your face, and you see him look away.

You realized Crispin hasn’t let go of you yet.

“C’mon, let’s just go,” you tell everyone. Crispin proceeds to remove his hand away from your shoulder, and you take your usual seats by the bar.

The bar is loud, but the silence between the three of you is deafening. Even Hank seems to have taken notice, eyeing your usually loud and cheerful group.

“What’s up with you three? What happened back there?” the older man asks, leaning over the bar top.

“Just a handsy kapre who couldn’t take no for an answer. I won’t let it spoil the night,” you answer him.

“That’s the spirit. Holler if he tries something like that again, I’ll have him kicked out,” Hank replies, setting down three ice-cold beers in front of you guys.

Yet somehow, the conversation never livened up.

Three bottles of Pulang Tikbalang later, you’ve had enough.

“This is about what that kapre said, isn’t it?” you finally say, slightly pissed.

The Twins look at each other with guilty expressions, and simultaneously nod.

“Do you boys wanna talk about it?”

They look at each other again. “Shit, this is awkward,” Crispin comments, scratching his head. Basilio nods in agreement, uncharacteristically silent. “We didn’t want to pressure you into anything you didn’t want to do,” the older twin continues.

“Look, I don’t want to ruin my relationship with my kuya just because we’re interested in the same girl,” Basilio says. “Same here,” Crispin adds.

“So we were waiting for you to make your own move,” Basilio continues.

“Ah. So the rumors are true,” you sighed.

“We’ll accept whatever outcome there is. If you choose me, or Basilio, or neither because this is fucking messy, we totally get it,” the older twin says, leaning back to stare at the ceiling.

Now the decision rests in your hands.

“Why don’t we talk about this somewhere more private?” you ask them.

You watch as both of them gulp. “Where do you wanna talk?” Basilio asks.

“Anywhere private.”

“I just cleaned my room earlier. Why don’t we continue this there?”

You nod, and they lead you away from the bar.

Looks like it’s going to be a long night.

Translations for non-Filipino speakers:

epal: in Filipino slang, usually refers to a person who inappropriately presents himself in a situation or butts into a conversation.

kapre: a tree-giant from Filipino mythology. Often described as very tall, dark, and hairy. Almost never seen without a cigar.

sayang: literally means waste. Can be used alone as an expression similar to "what a waste!"

torpe: someone who cannot spit their romantic or sexual feelings out to a crush or love interest

III

Author’s Notes:

Warnings: Smut. Filthy smut. Writer-is-definitely-going-to-the-second-circle-of-the-Seven-Circles-of-Hell-levels-of-filthy smut. Bawal bata, tulog na. If you're under 18 please turn back.

After the door closes behind the three of you, you sit on the bed, while Crispin sits on a chair near his brother’s desk. Basilio locks the door, and leans against it, unable to look at you.

“Right. So. How are we going to deal with this?” you ask them, crossing your legs.

“Don’t ask us,” Crispin says, swiveling the chair to face you. “You’re the one caught in the middle after all.”

Curse his choice of words.

“This is too weird,” Basilio speaks up. “If you want me to unlock the door, just say the word. We can walk out of this like nothing happened.”

“And then what? Things are going to be awkward between the three of us, I just know it,” you say to him, palming the back of your neck. “Things might get awkward with Amie and Hannah too, and I live with them. I don’t want our tropa to disband just because of relationship drama.”

“What about Amie and Hannah? Is it because we have history with those two?” Crispin asks.

“They’ve been trying to set me up with either of you. The fact that they also slept with you in the past also doesn’t help. Shit, this is messy.”

“Er, um,” Basilio stutters. “That might’ve been our fault.”

You furrow your brow and cross your arms. “Keep going.”

The Twins look at each other, as if gauging who should explain the situation. “So, we remained in contact after being used as a prize for bossing’s race with Maliksi, right?” Crispin starts.

“Uh huh.”

“Well, they mentioned a third roommate in passing and joked about lending us to her. Of course we blew them off, then Amie showed us a picture of you. We got curious and asked them to introduce you,” Basilio continues.

“I didn’t expect us five to become friends. And now we’re in this mess,” Crispin adds.

You look at them back and forth, and laugh in resignation. Elbows digging against your lap and palms pressed against your face, you rub your face and run it through your hair. “Amazing. Just amazing. See, I have a problem too.”

The Twins didn’t respond, eyes fixated on you.

“I like the two of you.”

You feel the air shift around you. Basilio’s standing upright by the door now, and Crispin straightened up too. The room is so quiet, you can hear them gulp in anticipation for what will happen next.

“There. I said it. The reason why I haven’t made a move at all is because of this exact moment that I was dreading. I didn’t want to choose,” you admit, feeling the blood rush to your head. “I just wanted for us three to stay like that, drinking buddies sprinkled with sexual tension.”

“And you’re in the middle, enjoying our attention,” Crispin says, crossing his arms.

“Selfish, I know,” you admit, head hanging low.

This is it, the moment that can make or break you three.

“Us three. If only...” you whisper, only for the words to fall flat on your tongue

You stand up, gathering your things and carrying your bag. “Nevermind. What a mess we’re in. I’ll go so you two can sort things out between the two of you. It’s been a fun ride.”

Basilio doesn’t move from the door, and behind you, you can hear Crispin getting up from his seat.

“We can still make this work, right kuya?” Basilio starts, looking over your head to give his brother a knowing look.

“Yeah, I think so,” Crispin replies. “What was that you said? The three of us?”

Your eyes widen, and you look at them back and forth. Their bodies are dangerously close to yours. Now you’re literally caught in the middle.

“I- uh…”

“I think we can work out an arrangement,” Basilio whispers, one hand moving to hold yours.

“Only if you want to,” Crispin adds, his breath kissing the back of your neck.

“I don’t want to lose either of you,” Basilio adds.

“Same here.”

Damn it all.

Giving in to your darkest, most hidden desires, you lean in to capture Basilio’s lips with yours, leaving his black eyes wide open in surprise. They flutter close, and he savors the kiss, slipping a tongue in. Then you turn to Crispin, and you give him the same sweet kiss as well.

“Damn, I didn’t mean like, now,” Basilio mutters, feeling the front of his trousers get tighter as he watches you make out with his brother.

Bringing your attention back to the younger twin, you loosen his tie, while you push out your ass to grind against Crispin. “Are you complaining?”

“Not at all.”

“Wait, are you sure about this? All of us drank tonight… we don’t want you to do something you’ll regret,” Crispin says, moving his hips away from you. Basilio pauses too, and wraps his hands around your wrists to still your hands, a look of concern on his face.

“Kuya’s right.”

“I’m a grown woman. I might’ve had a few bottles, but I know what I want,” you reassure them, waiting for the two to make a move. “I know I want you two for months.”

Basilio lets go of your hands and lets you do as you please, a cocky smirk on his lips. Behind you, you can feel Crispin’s gloved hands reaching for the zipper of your dress. “Really? How much do you want us? C’mon, say it,” Basilio asks, moving in to place kisses on your neck.

“I wanna hear it too,” Crispin whispers against your shoulder, and he punctuates it with a light kiss.

All of a sudden, you felt shy at the prospect of confessing your fantasies out loud. “Why don’t I just show you boys?”

“Oh no, you’re not getting out of this one,” Basilio teases. “Consider it as payback for throwing up all over my shoes.”

“You’re still- ah!- mad about that?” you ask him, gasping in the middle of doing so when you felt a hand snake between your legs from behind. The older twin slips his fingers past your underwear, circling your clit with slow strokes.

“Not mad, I just want things to be fair,” Basilio teases, pulling your dress down. He gives your breasts a squeeze, fondling and rolling your nipples until they harden, and he seals his lips over your right one. Crispin moves from behind you and he takes his place next to his twin, lathing his tongue over the left. All four of their hands pawed at your flesh greedily.

You were at a loss for words because of how good they’re making you feel, soft moans bubbling from your throat.

“Speechless already, huh?” Crispin mumbles against your skin.

“Ngh! The wind girls weren’t lying, you two know what you’re doing,” you gasped, face flushed as you watched the Twins lavish their attention on your breasts.

“Shhh, stop changing the subject. Play along, or neither of us will make you cum,” he adds, pausing to give you a teasing lick, and resting his tongue on top of the hardened bud. On the other hand, Basilio is sucking like a starved babe while squeezing your still clothed behind.

You fake a scoff of indignation and grin. “Fine. I- oh fuck- want you two so much, I’ve been fantasizing for weeks.”

Basilio pauses to address you. “Describe them.”

You’re a little mortified, but the alcohol in your system pushes you to be bolder. “I imagined Basilio punishing me for ruining his shoes.”

“And how did he do that?” Crispin’s voice.

“He asked me to suck him off,” you start, and a pinch on your bottom from the subject of your fantasy tells you that he wanted to hear more details. “He fucked my face while pulling my hair and told me how good I was the whole time and that he forgave me.”

“What about me? What fantasies did you have?” Crispin asks again.

Your breath hitched in your throat but you pushed on. “Hearing how you scolded Basilio, I imagined you taking me from behind and saying the meanest, dirtiest things possible.”

The Twins looked at each other, and stopped, their lips leaving your breasts with a lewd pop. “You want to make them all come true?” Basilio asks.

Cheeks burning, you give them a curt nod.

The two of them lead you to the bed, where Crispin puts you on all fours, and he takes his place from behind. On the other hand, Basilio is standing near the edge of the bed, the bulge in his pants inches away from your face. You stare at it, licking your lips.

As you undid Basilio’s pants, he shrugs off his suit jacket and takes off his tie, then he takes off his dress shirt, revealing his abs and the trail of dark hair on his lower abdomen, disappearing into his briefs. From behind, you hear fabric shifting, then Crispin peels your panties off of you. He brings a gloved hand against your skin in a loud smack, making you cry out.

“Ah, wait, we need a safeword,” Crispin mentions, soothingly squeezing your skin.

“What about Eternos?” Basilio suggests, and Crispin cocks an eyebrow. “Wait, you mean, like the game?”

You stifle a laugh. “I’m fine with it,” you say to them, and they take it as a signal to continue.

The older twin dips a gloved finger between your folds, gathering your wetness, and tsked. “Look at you, already so fucking wet. You want this so much, huh?”

You nod frantically, then Basilio stills your head. “Open your mouth, baby. Tongue out.”

You oblige, and Basilio fishes his cock out of his briefs. Your eyes grow wider as you take in the sight of it; girthy, with a nice length, and a few veins running on the underside. You wonder if Crispin’s is the same. The twin in front of you lightly smacks his member against your tongue, and you proceed to lick it, running from the base to the tip, slicking it with saliva. You swirl your tongue around it, then try to slide it in your mouth as smoothly as possible.

As Basilio begins to breathe harder with each bob of your head, Crispin pulls your ass towards his face, and a choked moan escapes your lips as you feel his mouth on your heat, toying with your folds before he finally finds that sensitive nub. The older twin proceeds to lick and suck at it, eating you out like you’re the best damn meal of his life.

Meanwhile, you push a palm against Basilio’s thigh to make him pause, and before he can ask you if you’re fine, you take his balls in your mouth and fondle him with your tongue. Your hand pumps his neglected cock as you did so.

“Shit! Your mouth feels so damn good,” he hisses, breathing hard. When you take his dick back into your mouth, Basilio gathers your hair and uses it as a handle, watching his length disappear in your mouth over and over, his black eyes hazy with lust and his mouth whispering words of praise.

Crispin looks at his brother with a hint of envy, cock painfully hard against his trousers. He unzips it for relief, and proceeds to stroke himself as he continues to prepare you.

“Hey, Basilio, got any lube?”

“Um, there’s- ungh- a bottle of it under the pillow.”

“...you keep lube under your pillow? What the- and condoms? Can’t you put them in your drawers or something?”

Basilio doesn’t give his brother a response and focuses his attention on you. You gasp against his cock as you felt a cold, gloved hand prod against your asshole, and goosebumps formed on your flesh as you felt the cold lubricant smearing against your entrance. Crispin pushes his lubed thumb in, and you cry out in pleasure, your jaw opening wider for Basilio to claim. Then, two more fingers prod at your pussy, and you swear you can see stars as they slid in. The older twin toys with you while eating you out, and you feel a knot forming at the base of your stomach, threatening to uncoil at any moment.

You couldn’t take it. Basilio’s cock slides out of your mouth and you look over your shoulder, moaning and panting.

Crispin pauses from eating you out to ask you a question. “You’re gonna cum? You wanna cum on my fingers like the filthy slut you are?”

“Yes, please, please, let me cum,” you begged, and with a devilish smirk, Crispin dives right back in to finish the job.

You squeezed your eyes shut as the pleasure inside you exploded, shameless moans coming from your throat as your first orgasm hits you. Basilio watches the look of pleasure on your face as Crispin makes you cum, making his cock twitch.

“Now that’s how you please a woman,” Crispin teases, shooting his brother a challenging look while wiping your juices off of his face.

“Wait until it’s my turn,” Basilio replies, smirking.

Panting, legs wobbling, you didn’t get to rest as Crispin takes his cock and slides it in you. In front of you, Basilio cups your face and directs you back to his cock, smirking. “You’re doing so well, baby. You’re taking us like a champ, you know that?”

“Fuck,” Crispin hisses from behind you. “You like this, you little slut? You like being fucked by two cocks at the same time?” he asks you, each word punctuated with a hard thrust.

Now you’re really caught in the middle.

Basilio’s panting heavily now, his thrusts becoming erratic against your mouth. You know he’s close, and you brace yourself for what’s coming. Eyes screwed shut, he lets out a low groan as he spills inside of your mouth, his cum painting your tongue white. You try to swallow it all, but a few stray drops dribble down your chin. The younger twin cleans you up, and kisses you deeply, not minding his taste on your mouth. He sits on the bed to catch his breath, and allows you to rest on his thighs.

Behind you, Crispin begins to rut faster, his thumb still in your ass as he pounded you. You writhe and cry against Basilio’s lap, bracing yourself from each harsh thrust. The younger twin pets your hair, but he moves his hand away when Crispin pushes your head against his brother’s lap.

“Take it all of it,” Crispin groans. “Ungh, you make me so horny, you little slut.”

Not wanting to miss out on the fun, Basilio gets an idea.

“Hey, kuya. Hold her up.”

Crispin blinks before obliging his brother’s request, clamping a hand around your throat. “Is this fine?” he asks you, and you nod a few times. He tightens his hold and pulls you to his toned chest, your hair sticking to his skin from your sweat. Basilio kisses you, then latches on one of your breasts. One gloved hand fondles and pulls at your nipples, while the other moves south to stroke you.

“Ah! I think I’m gonna cum again…” you choked, face red and tears forming at the edge of your eyes.

“Say our names,” Crispin whispers against your ear in a low growl.

You mutter their names at first, but it turns to full blown cries as your climax fast approaches.

“Crispin! Basilio!”

It hits you so hard, your eyes roll to the back of your head. You cried shamelessly, and Crispin places a kiss on your open mouth, tongue slipping in and teeth clashing with yours. He pulls out and finishes on your back, cock resting between the valley of your cheeks, still half-hard.

The Twins move to clean you up, looking around for tissues and anything to wipe you with.

“So,” Basilio says. “One more round?”

Your eyes widen, and you look down to see that Basilio is hard again.

“How- what the fuck? What are you two?”

Crispin sighs. “Hannah and Amie never told you? We’re demigods.”

“We don’t get sick and our injuries heal really fast. Talagbusao is our dad,” Basilio adds, and you give him a disbelieving glare.

“You didn’t need to let that last detail slip out, gago,” Crispin berates him as he pulls you close to his muscular chest. He lay down on a pillow, one arm propping his head up.

After a few seconds of silence, you say something. “At least let me have some water first.”

“Right.”

The Twins stare at each other.

“One of us has to fetch it,” Crispin says.

“What? Why me?” Basilio complains, scratching his head.

“Because I’m older, and I’ve worked hard to give her two orgasms in a row.”

“Hey! I’m sure that last one was thanks to me.”

You groan, grabbing a pillow to cover your face. “Ugh, please don’t turn this into a competition about who made me cum the most. Just get me my water, pretty please, Basilio?”

At the request, Basilio smiles and dresses haphazardly to get it for you. “Don’t start without me.”

You close your eyes with a smile. Crispin buries his face against your hair and plays with it. “You have him wrapped around your finger, you know?”

You chuckle at the remark, and Crispin kisses your temple. “Just don’t hurt my little brother.”

“I have no intention of hurting either of you,” you tell him.

Basilio comes back with a pitcher and some glasses, and once everyone’s hydrated and ready, the night continues.

The Twins spoil you with their attention, hands roaming your body as they planted kisses on your skin. Basilio sucks on your collarbone, biting experimentally and leaving marks that would darken in the morning, which draws a whine from your throat. Not wanting to be outdone, Crispin kisses your back, then the back of your neck, and he found a sweet spot that made you moan at that place where your ear connects to your neck. Basilio observes this and does the same to the other side.

“Hey, um, can I do it in your ass?” Crispin whispers in your ear, almost sheepishly, and you stare at him for a few seconds before nodding.

“Sure. Be gentle. And use a condom.”

“Of course. You go on top. What’s our safeword again?” he asks you, testing your knowledge.

You roll your eyes and try not to laugh. “Eternos.”

“Good girl,” Basilio says.

Flipping yourself around, you lean into Crispin’s lap. “Here, let me help,” you say as you grasp his cock and start to pump. The younger twin behind you reaches for the lube and prepares your ass. You sigh with pleasure as you feel the cold sensation of the product on your skin. Crispin sighs as you slide his length between your lips, head bobbing up and down, and you feel him grow inside your mouth. You give the tip a small lick before doing the same thing you did to Basilio, cupping his balls with your mouth and fondling them with your tongue.

“I want you now,” Crispin rasps, tugging your hair to get you off of him.

You smirk, turning around to give him a great view of your ass. He reaches around for a condom, finds one, and tears the foil open. After sliding the rubber down his shaft, he positions himself against your hole, pressing against the tight ring of muscle. You wince in pain as he starts penetrating you, prompting him to squeeze more lube to relieve your discomfort.

“Relax,” Basilio instructs you, planting soothing kisses at your jaw. You did as he said and unclenched your muscles, entrusting yourself to the two of them.

As Crispin pushes past the ring of muscle, you sigh in relief, discomfort replaced with the feeling of fullness. You lean back into his hard chest, a soft sigh leaving your lips as he starts to move. Meanwhile, Basilio kneels between your legs, rubbing your clit with the head of his dripping cock, but he freezes before he slides it in.

“What?” you ask with concern.

“We’re out of condoms.”

“Just pull out,” you tell him with a strained voice, gasping as Crispin moves inside you.

“No, you don’t understand. We’re demigods. Our… um.. Yeah, we’re really potent.”

You smirk at him. “I’ll ask the girls for something in the morning,” you say against your better judgment. “It’s a risk I’m willing to take. Cum all over me.”

His cock twitches at your last suggestion.

“Ugh, Basilio, you’re really killing the mood here,” Crispin strains to say, holding you gently by the neck. “I pulled out too, remember? Make up your mind already. I wouldn’t mind having her to myself for now, though.”

“Not a chance,” Basilio retorts, sliding the tip of his cock past your folds and pushing inside.

A loud cry rips from your throat at the sensations, feeling stuffed to the maximum as two cocks start to pump inside you. Crispin’s grip on your neck tightens, while you tangle your hands through Basilio’s hair, pulling him closer and kissing him.

Soon, The Twins find a steady rhythm, syncing their movement so you can feel the full force of their thrusts. Basilio throws one of your legs over his shoulder and begins to massage your clit with his thumb, while Crispin fondles your breasts with his free hand, using the tip of his fingers to roll, squeeze, and pull at your nubs. With every thrust they give, you clench, drawing a groan from both of them as they felt themselves being squeezed by your muscles.

“Oh God,” you whine. “Fuck, you both feel so good.”

“Say our names,” Basilio growls, and you oblige.

You chant their names like a prayer, underscored by the slapping of skin as the Twins fucked both of your holes. Hearing their names only spurred them on, and their movements became more desperate, sweat rolling off of your bodies.

“Basilio! Crispin!”

Underneath you, Crispin gropes at your breast harder, beads of sweat rolling off of his forehead and dripping to your skin. “Your ass feels too good, I’m gonna cum,” he hissed between clenched teeth, and you silently thank Bathala that he’s near his limit. The lube is starting to wash off.

With a few more rough thrusts, he cums, shooting inside the rubber. Crispin cups your jaw and kisses you, deep and sweet, tasting your tongue. You’re on the verge of climax now too, and you give Basilio a desperate look. He understood what you meant.

The younger twin thrusts harder and faster while still rubbing that sensitive nub between your legs furiously, and the older one helps by stimulating your nipples once again. The bombardment of sensation is too much, and you feel white hot heat racing through your body as you cum one last time, voice hoarse as a throaty moan escapes past your open mouth.

The spasm of your muscles is enough to send Basilio over the edge too, pulling out of you and spilling his load all over the mound of your pussy, and your stomach. You feel Crispin slip out of you too. Basilio leans in to kiss you, almost tenderly, but still full of desperation, tongue and teeth.

After a quick cleanup and another drink of water, the three of you lay in a heap of limbs, exhausted. Crispin doesn’t shift at all, content on letting you lie next to him, while Basilio moves next to you, effectively sandwiching you between the two of them on the narrow bed.

Everyone is sated, and with your eyes growing heavy, you wanted nothing but sleep.

“So, who’s better?”

You don’t know who said it, but you raised your hand to give him a middle finger. “Tangina niyo, you’re both good. End of discussion. Now please let me sleep.”

Thank Bathala that they did.

The next morning, all three of you wake up sweaty, stinking, and really, really hungry.

“Good morning to you two,” you sigh, snaking your arms around theirs. Each of them gave you a kiss on your temple. “Damn, I’m starving,” you said, sitting up. “Let’s take a shower and grab something to e-”

Underneath the three of you, the bed’s legs give out, and a loud thud can be heard throughout the house. As you three scramble for purchase, frantic footsteps are approaching, and the door bursts open.

“What was that? Crispin is missing from his room and-” Hank blurts, toting his good ol’ triple barrel shotgun "Ama, Anak, at, Espiritu Santo". Funnily enough, when he sees the tangle of limbs before him, he utters the same words and quickly turns away. Alexandra arrives shortly after, gives them a quick glance, and shuts the door.

Breakfast with their bossing is filled with a mortifying quiet.

You barely touch your food, embarrassment burning your cheeks, and you shoot a glance at your twin lovers.

“Next time, lock the door,” Alex finally says, getting up from the table with a coffee in her hands. She’s too fucking exhausted to deal with this.

“It’s Basilio’s fault!” Crispin yells after her. Basilio made no attempts to defend himself, knowing that he forgot to lock the door again after he came back with the water.

Grumbling, you finally take a bite of your breakfast, jacket draped over your shoulders despite the heat to hide the bruises on your body. “The girls are gonna have a field day when they see me like this.”

“I need to replace the bed,” Basilio mumbles, stuffing his mouth with rice.

The three of you looked at each other, and laughed.

“So, see you next week?” Crispin asks with a smile, and Basilio gives you a pleading, doe-eyed look.

“Yeah. See you two next week.”

Translations for non-English speakers:

tropa: ground of friends. People you chill with

tangina niyo: Filipino profanity. Roughly translates to "you sons of bitches"

Ama, Anak, at Espiritu Santo: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. It’s Hank’s weapon’s actual name in the comics.

[vxlkyrieee]

wildflower (christmas special)

teen!Clark Kent x teen!gn!reader (gender neutral)

Word Count: 1,511

Warnings: teeny bit of angst

This is kind of late oops

Clark had always loved the way living in the countryside felt.

He could spend hours out in the farm fields, just walking along, letting his fingertips brush the smooth, waxy leaves of the corn stalks. Sometimes he'd sit out in the backyard, next to the squeaky clothesline, and just bathe in the Sun's rays. Formidable hands would dig deep into the soil, underneath the blades of grass, and just feel. Feel the grains of dirt between his fingers and underneath his nails. The further his fingers dug, the more he could smell. The moisture of the fertile land, and pungent roughness would cut right through his sense of smell, and bring him right back down to Earth.

Where he wanted to be.

He never asked to be that kid from out there. He knew that somewhere deep in the vast black unknown, was the place he had come from, but if it was okay with everyone else, he never wanted to be part of it. All he ever wanted was to be here; Terrestrial. Normal. Was that so much to ask for?

He remembers one time in particular, where he had been sitting in that exact spot, talking to his dad, quite sombrely. He recalls asking "if there's a God up there, why'd he make me the way I am, Pa?"

And his mind constantly swirls with similar questions.

Sometimes he daydreams about what it must be like to just be ordinary, like the corn that his father works so hard to harvest, subject to the wind, vulnerable to almost anything that threatened its survival. But as Clark knew his dad was completely convinced that he was as similar to the corn stalks as anyone could get: tall, strong, and most importantly, a necessity. Without grain, the population would struggle to thrive. It would be the same without Clark. There would be no one capable enough to help his old man with fixing the tractor, and no one to save the occasional sinking school-bus.

Of course in those rare instances where emergency assistance was needed, Clark was grateful of his "gifts," as Martha would call them. But he was sick of having to be so careful all the time. Having to be cautious enough, so that he wouldn't break your spine every time you hugged.

He wanted to be able to feel free. To live without heed. Which is why he happens to be in his dad's pickup truck, with you at the wheel.

You had made sure to leave the radio on, music loud enough to distract Clark from irrelevant sounds that bothered him. He enjoyed focusing on the sound of the engine too. The way it growled lowly as the wheels ground against the dirt track beneath them. He perked up a little when he could make out the rustling of branches, specifically the branches of the Christmas tree currently sitting in the back as cargo.

His focus snapped back to you as you spoke up.

"Wanna stop here?"

As you exit the truck, you are welcomed with the frosty breeze of December, tinged with the sweet smell of wildflowers. Even in the freezing temperatures, the petals peaked through to boast their colours. Favouring a usually lush-green field, Clark finds a place to sit amongst the snow-covered grasses.

Clark draws a giggle from you, while he easily scoops you into his lap. Luckily for you, you were swaddled in Clark's hoodie, and a jacket of her own, trapping out the chill. When his face returns to a worrying gaze, you remember why you stopped here in the first place.

“What did you want to talk about?"

He looks down at his hands, quiet for a long few seconds before answering. “You ever feel like you don't fit in?"

You turn to face him, now sitting cross-legged. "Look who you're talking to, Kent,” you laugh.

Clark lets a deep chuckle escape him, and shakes his head. You can’t help but stare for a moment, his perfect teeth and smiley eyes on show. You take on a more velvety tone when you notice the hilarity retreat from the indigo of his eyes.

"No but seriously, everybody feels that way at certain points in their life. You're not the only one," you offer encouragingly.

"But they're all normal, (y/n). Me? Not so much. I just... I wanna be human, y' know?"

Before those words slipped from his tongue, you had never known there could be so much pining, so much guilt and hesitation in just a few simple sentences. You pull him closer then, a hand secure around the nape of his neck.

"Clark, if anything, you’re the most humane person I know.  You're always genuinely willing to help everyone. And you just have this way of making others feel okay, even when you’re not. If that's not human, I don't know what is."

He shifts uncomfortably under your gaze, he’s a little bit taken aback if he’s honest. How on earth could you soothe him and make him nervous all at once?

You hold his hands, examining them. They were much bigger than yours, skin much thicker than yours too. Much too thick to hold any callouses or scuffs from years of farm work. The only evidence of Clark’s labour lay in the stubborn remnants of grease and dirt underneath his fingernails.

"You're special because you have these abilities, but that doesn’t make you who you are. You're so much more than that.“ Clark looks away, shying away from your prolonged attention. It was cute. The very thought that someone so powerful could be so humble, so unfamiliar with pride and flattery, made your heart flutter.  "That's why I like you so much, Clark; You don’t need to be normal, ‘cause you’re you.”

Clark blurts out the next three words without fully paying attention to what he was saying.

“I love you.”

His blush deepens violently and his eyes widen. He panics a little and his heart is kicking inside his chest. Still, it isn’t as loud as the beat your heart had just skipped, and he doesn’t know if that’s good or bad. He wonders if this was the right time to tell you, and he’s shocked he’d even said it at all.

"I know,” you reply, a teasing grin as pretty as ever upon your face. You laugh and hide your face in Clark’s shoulder, and he can't help but smile a little wider at the sound of you ringing through his head. You spot a wildflower behind Clark; a nice violet one that matched the tiny flecks of lilac in the blue of his eyes. You pluck it from its place among the snow and hold it up to his face.

"Personally, I think you're just like a flower; so gentle, so pretty."

Clark hums in response, more focused on relishing in the feeling of your fingers through his dark locks. You whisper an “i love you too,” placing the flower behind his ear, tucking the stem into his curls.

In return, a kiss is planted on the spot just behind your ear, as a silent thank you for the comfort you provided. Just being with you made it so much easier to bathe in the winter light. The sun tasted so much sweeter on his skin when you were there to share it, the looming sunset like golden syrup, warm and familiar. All those times he busted footballs trying to catch them, broke door handles opening them, shattered glasses with his bare hands, they didn’t seem so unbearable with a new perspective. Who knows? Maybe someday you and his Ma would be right, and he’d use his burdens as gifts instead of hiding them. But until the world needed a freak from outer space to save them, Clark was pretty content on trying not to stand out too much. He was happy to fix tractors and carry Christmas trees for his Pa if that’s what he was needed for.

He nuzzles into you, keeping the warmth captive nearby you. As he does so, he savours the softness of your skin, noticing how the column of your neck throbs discreetly in tune to your pulse. He focuses on its sound, growing louder as his attention is brought to your heart. Peeking inside your ribcage, he watches how the muscle beats faster when he held you closer.

"We better get going. We still have a Christmas tree to put up," you remind Clark.

He lifts you effortlessly and places you back on your feet, before patting the snow from your clothes. He holds back the bubbling urge to call you a snowman - the cutest snowman he’s ever come by, that’s for sure - and holds your hand all the way back to the truck.

He smiles to himself, taking the wheel this time, and he makes sure you’re warm enough before heading back home. This Christmas would be just fine, he thinks, so long as you’re there to remind him that being a wildflower isn’t so bad sometimes.

[hansensgirl]

salvatore. | vii.

summary. | Bucky Barnes doesn’t believe in love anymore. Especially after the tragic, unknown death of his wife, Natasha. He thinks it’s stupid and a waste of time and- oh my. Hello there, you. There you were, with your notebooks and your novels, writing your heart away. He’s hellbent on saving you from this nasty world, his elusive neighbor that has him under the stupid spell of love. You soon find yourself trapped in a tragic love story with Bluebeard, not Prince Charming.

warnings. | NONCON/DUBCON, dark themes, manipulation, gaslighting, arguments, toxic relationships (reader and steve), cheating, nightmares, violence, mentions of death/murder, spying, voyeurism, stalking, use of cameras, angst, fluff, dark!bucky, protectiveness, obsessiveness, creepy bucky, perversion, kidnapping, choking (not the kinky kind), passing out, suffocation, and more. 18+, MINORS DNI.

word count. | 3.4k

pairings. | Dark!Bucky Barnes x Reader, Steve Rogers x Reader, Natasha Romanoff x Steve Rogers.

a/n. | we’re nearing the end!! please read all the warnings before you click the ‘keep reading’ button! don’t forget to enjoy and don’t forget to reblog! salvatore masterlist.

“I’ll be back before you know it, doll, don’t worry. I’ll call you and text you nonstop, okay?” Bucky reassured, pecking your lips between each word of his. You pulled further away from him and laughed. “Yeah, yeah. Where are you going, again?” you asked, hating yourself for forgetting so easily. It was almost like he never even told you. “That bachelor party, remember? For my friend Sam?” he repeated, almost as if he had told you billions of times before.

Truth be told, you didn’t remember.

“Oh, that’s right! Okay, baby, have a good trip and stay safe. Tell your friend Sam I said congratulations––wait, you have a friend named Sam?” you questioned, not knowing of this friend. You may have been quite forgetful but you didn’t recall him speaking of any friend by the name of Sam. “Yep, but I don’t talk about him too much,” Bucky informed, and you tilted your head. You opened your mouth to ask him another question, but he checked the time on his wrist before sharply inhaling.

“Gotta go now, doll, don’t want to be too late,” he told you, kissing you once more. “Love you, bye!” he shouted as he closed the door behind him. “Bye!” you called back, and you were left all by yourself in his home. He already gave you a tour a week ago, the day after he spoke to you about your nightmare. You never slept after that, but it wasn’t shocking. That kiss was everything you could’ve ever dreamt of.

You felt like Sleeping Beauty, finally getting that kiss from Prince Charming that you needed so badly. You sighed with a half-smile on your face, and you could already feel boredom settling into your bones. With Bucky, every second of the day was filled with fun. Whether it be through stupid conversations or through needless movie commentary. You hadn’t written in all that time, and it was just a tad bit upsetting for you.

Your notebook was untouched, and so was your nice fountain pen along with your computer. It wasn’t like you had writer’s block, and it wasn’t like you had no motivation to finish your first chapter… No, wait, it was exactly like that. Every time you thought of your story, you’d have to stifle a loud, loud groan that would be savoured for when you stub your toe or when you’d accidentally burn your hand on the stove.

You didn’t resent your story. It just felt like a burden at that point in your life. But with nothing else to do other than writing, you felt oh so pained. Not physical pain, no, just the kind that would be a burden. You were sure that the floorboards were tired of feeling your feet stomp on them throughout most days. Sometimes, you’d sit on the stairs and hum to yourself—some sort of random rhythm that you would then mess up and forget about.

“What to do, what to do, what to do…” you whispered to yourself, hooking your thumbs through the loops of your jeans. If it weren’t for Bucky and his easily distracted behaviour, you could’ve had a belt there. But mistakes were made, and even though you offered to help, you officially knew then that Bucky never wanted you in his basement. Not in the past, not in the present, and definitely not in the future.

You joked around, saying that he just has dead bodies buried behind the shelves that were covered in cobwebs. But his forced chuckle had you apologizing quickly, and he told you to go drink some water and throw out your energy drink. You did exactly that, and he was back to his happy self. Spewing stupid puns like hilarity was his college major, with a big silly grin on his face.

Steve was always stoic, so maybe that was why you weren’t used to the almost overwhelming (yet lovely) company of Bucky.

Though Bucky spoke most hours of the day, you never heard of this man named ‘Sam.’ You had hung onto every single word of Bucky’s whenever he spoke to you. Even if he was repeating himself most of the time, you still made sure to listen to everything. He had never spoken about his friend to you, ever. As a matter of fact, you didn’t know much about him personally. You knew bits and pieces about his life as a soldier, but you didn’t know anything else.

He had no family pictures, no childhood stories, no generation-old recipes, nothing. Absolutely nothing. It weirded you out because he knew every bit about you. Even things that you’d never tell your mother, even if you had to. You didn’t even know about any past girlfriends of his… Except for one. He’d call her by the name of ‘Natalia’ but only when cursing or spewing out on the grave swears that could have someone rolling even if they didn’t decay yet.

Only a man with something to hide wouldn’t tell you anything about him, right? Because that was what Steve did, and he had one too many things hidden from you.

You spun around, making a full beeline for the stairs that didn’t creak under your feet (unlike your staircase). You envied Bucky for that, but you also envied him for more practical, more reasonable things. Such as the way he just couldn’t fall for pranks easily or the way he’d get something right almost all the time. You gripped the railing tightly, careful not to fall as you were climbing up the steps as quickly as you could.

Cardio wasn’t really your thing, not then, at least. You preferred simple stretches and long walks. Maybe the occasional weight lifting, but your little coloured dumbbells never did much. You were faced with the first bedroom at the top of the stairs. It was a guest bedroom, and he told you that it was pointless to go inside and clean it. At the time, it made sense. But maybe he was just trying to avoid having you go in there and see something you shouldn’t have seen.

You exhaled shakily and pushed the door open. You were met with a gust of cool air only because the window was left open. Bucky did that a lot, only because his home would become predominantly more humid than usual. You didn’t search the drawers or anything else in that room as well as the other guest bedrooms because you knew you’d find nothing in there.

There was only one bedroom left to check, the one that you and Bucky shared. It was a work in progress. Not in the sense that you were renovating or something along those lines. It was a bit… bland, to say the least. Not one piece of that room felt like home. You asked Bucky if he had any mementos or paintings to keep, but he shook his head and walked out. He wasn’t a very personal man, and it had more flaws than perfections.

You turned the doorknob and walked inside, taking in the notes of that vanilla body spray that Bucky loved so much and the lingering scent of his aftershave. You went to his bed and lifted the fluffy mattress up. Nothing. You gently placed it back down, hoping that your muscles wouldn’t give out. You opened up some of the bedside drawers, and you even peaked underneath them. Nothing. You let out a groan that was also a sigh of relief.

You weren’t sure if you wanted to find something bad or if you wanted to find nothing at all.

You slowly brought yourself up to your feet. You strode a few steps over to the closet and slid the mirror door to the other side. Half of the closet was filled with your clothes, and the other half was filled with his clothes. He had more leather jackets and sweaters than anything. Steve had the opposite of that problem. The blond hero loved his white tank tops and his white t-shirts. The dryer would constantly shrink them, and you could never complain about that.

Neither could Natasha.

You ran your hands between all the pockets and fabric in your closet, but you didn’t find anything. You snapped your hands back, bringing some hangers down to the ground. “Fuck,” you gritted out, looking down at the mess. You wordlessly kept staring at it, all while flailing your arm around to find the door. You grabbed it and slid it close. You had more pressing matters to deal with.

You didn’t check the dresser because you’d know if Bucky ever touched it. Your next best bet was to check the bathroom, even if it might’ve been fruitless. You searched the cupboards underneath and above the sink. Still, you only found freshly purchased products that you would find yourself stocking up on at least once a month—pads, tampons, shampoo, conditioner, razors, and everything else you needed, not him. Nothing there belonged to Bucky.

You once again didn’t know whether you should be elated or frustrated.

You dragged yourself out of the bathroom and out of the bedroom. You wore a pout on your face, resembling a little spoiled kid in a candy shop. In the hallway, you were at a crossroads. “Goddammit,” you groaned, squeezing your hands into fists. You walked down the stairs, not even bothering to hold onto the railing or the wall. You always loved to run your hand against the wall, especially when you were descending down the stairs.

You knew that he was too smart to hide anything in the living room and the kitchen. You felt like you were losing your mind. Even though you couldn’t find anything, you knew Bucky was hiding something from you. It was the same gut feeling that you had when you were with Steve. You listened to it, and you were right. Therefore, you believed that you were right about Bucky being secretive.

You stood at the bottom of the stairs, with your hands on your hips and your bottom lip between your teeth. You didn’t know where else to check. The garden seemed idiotic, and none of Bucky’s floorboards creaked in a peculiar manner. No can or jar in his cabinets looked off, and his shelves didn’t seem like they could move. His stack of books about the human mind didn’t seem fake either.

You spun in a circle, and so did your mind. Everything merged into a colourful blur, and you nearly missed the large splash of white that suddenly intruded into your vision. You stopped moving and looked over just to see the door to the basement. The door was never opened, even when Bucky was downstairs doing the laundry. You smiled to yourself. It was perfect, and it made so much sense for him to hide something in there.

The airport was loud. Families and couples yelling at each other and the sound of suitcase wheels against the floor. A lovely voice came on the intercom, announcing a flight that was departing. From New York to some city in Arizona. In Bucky's hands were his passport, his ticket, and his backpack. Bucky wasn’t sitting in one of those enormously uncomfortable chairs that everyone else was.

He was meters away from the waiting area, contemplating whether the trip was a good idea or not. He didn’t need to be plagued with guilt by what happened to Natalia. He was doing much better now that she was gone. The gothic house probably needed to be cleared of cobwebs and creepy crawlers, but he could’ve just hired someone for that. The only reason why he was contemplating his trip was because of you.

You seemed to eat up every lie he spewed since he met you, but you didn’t appear to buy his cover-up for the flight. Bucky never felt bad about lying to you because you needed to be protected. You were bawling in your bedroom about your job, taking insults from your mother and getting carelessly drunk with a stranger just before he thoroughly swept in on his white horse. You needed him; you always did.

Bucky knew that you’d let your paranoia and suspicions get the best of you. He was glad you allowed that to happen with Steve, but he wasn’t going to let it fly when it came down to himself. “Fuck,” he grumbled before turning on his heels and making his way out of the area and out of the airport. He had to protect you from the harsh truth, only because he’s your knight in shining armour.

You didn’t grab ahold of the railing because it was made of wood. Splinters were the worst; you simply just loathed them like anybody else. You placed your hand against the wall for support and tried your hardest to not make too much noise. Basements always gave you the creeps. The air in the room was thick and heavy, week-old vapour stuck in there, and you wondered how the wood hadn’t begun to rot yet.

Your fingers clashed with what seemed to feel like a light switch. You were at the bottom of the stairs, an old carpet resting beneath your feet to protect you from the cold floor. Your nose was filled with the scent of different detergents and softeners that Bucky would use. Against the wall were the washing machine and the dryer. Next to the dryer was a small, worn-down sink. It was clearly stained and dirty, and you wondered how old the house was.

In the corner was a little wire deck shelf. On it were boxes and many other random objects. You managed to push yourself into the small space that was between the washing machine and the rack. You grabbed the first and the only box on the highest level, surprised that it was lighter than it seemed. You looked inside, only to find old leather gloves and a first aid kit. The white of the kit had a bit of dried blood on it, and the gloves were creased.

You grimaced, but you figured that they were from before he retired. You put the box back and reached for the other one that was two levels down from the top. It was much heavier than the previous one, and you were scared that you would drop it. You peered into the box and found a sleek black gun. Your eyes widened, and you nearly let go of the six faces of cardboard.

But it also made sense for him to own a gun. You didn’t want to think of the possible reasons to scare yourself, so you pretended as if you didn’t see it and put it back. The rest of the shelf just had little old objects that seemed like they came from a thrift store or a pawn shop. One was a small porcelain deer in a pink skirt with glitter on its spots. It made you smile; of course, Bucky would have something like that. The deer’s bright doe eyes looked up at you, but they seemed more sad than anything else.

Though you marvelled at the statue at first, it eventually made you feel uneasy. You tore your eyes away from it and slowly made your way out of the cramped space. You didn’t know where else to look, and your gut feeling didn’t seem to go away. Though the lightbulb was turned on, the room was still dark. The area next to the staircase was particularly shadowed, and your stomach dropped just a bit as you stared at it.

You swallowed thickly and nervously, but you were also elated at the fact that you finally found somewhere worthy of checking. You stepped into the darkness, and you pulled your phone out of the pocket of your jeans. You turned the flashlight feature on and shined the light throughout the space. The ground was barren, and so were the walls. Dust covered them, though.

You rested your off-hand against the side of the staircase, sighing to yourself before realizing that there was a space underneath the stairs. You bent down and shone the light there, moving it around to try and find something. When that was of no help, you stretched the hand that was on the stairs to try and feel for something, anything. Your digits brushed up against what felt like a shoebox. Your heart jumped, and you fumbled around trying to grab it.

You dragged the box out from the staircase while you bit your bottom lip. You sat down on the dirty floor, and you hesitated in opening up the box. You wondered if it was best to let sleeping dogs lie, to just ignore your intuition and to trust Bucky. But you knew better than that. You really did. Your shaky hand lifted the top of the box, and you set it down on the ground.

You pointed your flashlight inside the box, and you gasped loudly. It was filled to the top with different things that were oh so familiar. Maybe it was because they belonged to you. A pair of pink panties that you thought your washing machine ate was at the top. You took them out of the box just to find a few old notebooks of yours. You believed they were under your bed, but it seemed to be otherwise.

A few lipsticks and a hairbrush were there, too. You didn’t recall them being missing, and you certainly didn’t remember giving them to Bucky because you never did. You dug everything of yours out of the box. Polaroids, more panties, jewelry, polaroids of yourself and your body, as well as much more. At the bottom was a bunch of folded papers in a Ziploc bag.

You pushed the square slider at the top to open the bag, and you pulled out the papers. You opened them up just to be faced with a file detailing almost everything about you. There were pictures of you around your house, at work and doing other things. One was of you showering, and you felt sick to your stomach. You didn’t know whether you should cry, call someone, or be angry.

But what you did know was that you needed to get as far away from Bucky as possible. You quickly shoved everything back into the box, and you put the lid back on. You grabbed it and placed it under your arm before trying to stand up. You unlocked your phone and searched through the screen for the Phone app. You needed to call your mom, maybe ask her if you could stay with her for a bit. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you panicked, not being able to find her contact.

You turned around and managed to click on her name, and you began to make your way up the stairs. You clicked the call button and put the phone on speaker. You listened closely as it rang, and you waited for the ‘ringing’ to turn into a timer. But you didn’t look where you were going, which is why you let out a scream as you bumped into something. No, someone.

You looked up slowly, just to see Bucky staring at you. His face was filled with hurt, and you heard his metal arm whir as he clenched his fist. “Where do you think you’re going, doll?” he asked innocently, smiling at you. “Uhm, I- I was just going to go eat lunch!” you lied to him. Your voice was shaky, and so was your entire body. You felt nauseous, and your legs felt as if they were going to give out.

“Good, I’m glad you’re going to eat lunch. It’s important to have all your meals, y’know. But do you really need to go through my things and steal, too?” Bucky questioned, taking a step towards you. “Please let me go, Bucky. I won’t tell anyone!” you promised, ready to sob and beg to him. He clicked his tongue and shook his head. “No can do, doll. Can’t let my best girl go,” he exasperatedly explained to you, almost as if you didn’t learn about his stalking ways.

His hand came up to your face, and he stroked your cheek. The metal felt weird against your sweating skin. He moved his hand down to your neck, and he suddenly wrapped his fingers around your throat. You dropped your phone and the box, and you wrapped your hands around his wrist. “Shh, it’s okay, you just need to take a quick break from reality. That’s all,” Bucky cooed, and you found yourself struggling to breathe. Your vision began to darken, and you eventually passed out in his arms.

[actualbird]

my friend brought up the idea of vyn x artem (and is too much of a coward to send an ask himself), thoughts?

think of the,, comedic value,, You Cannot Hide Your Feelings From The Psychiatrist

oHOHOHOOOO!!! oh anon (and anon's friend hehe), thank you so much this ask!!!! see, ive thought a lot about vynluke and vynmarius but not much about vynartem yet tho so this ask excited me a LOT

okay i wanna go into characterization stuffs bout this pairing first. vyn and artem together are very interesting to me because since theyre in the late twenties gang, theyre both similar in the sense that theyre not as obvious about the emotions (in comparison to the early twenties gang), they both repress themselves or their emotions or desires one way or another. if these two caught feelings for each other, yes, it would be hilarious for the reason u said, artem would immediately try to hide his feelings. but like VYN WOULD TOO, LOLLLL. like yes, i know that vyn in canon is forward about his affections in a subtle elegant kind of way, but at the same time, vyn does sooooo much emotional hiding of his own. if artem hides his feelings, vyn hides himself.

i think that for peak hilarity vibes, vyn would catch feelings first. and the moment this happens hes like "well. this isnt good." and then since hes so hugely perceptive he knows that artem doesnt reciprocate (wrong, artem just hasnt realized his feelings yet, in this situation, so theres no feelings to notice from him yet because ARTEM DOESNT KNOW, ARTEM IS SO BAD AT FEELINGS, HE'S DEFINITELY GOT LAG TIME in terms of figuring things out, fight me) and then vyn is like "understood. i will be repressing these feelings forever now." and then when artem DOES realize his feelings and vyn notices this vyn is like "BUT I ALREADY WENT THROUGH ALL THE EFFORT OF HIDING MY HEART AND MYSELF IN A CONVOLUTED MAZE OF DEFLECTION CONTROL...." and we know artem has HUGE TROUBLE doing anything emotionally forward so like....

the funniest vynartem situation, for me, would be like

THAT ASIDE THO, I THINK VYNARTEM WOULD BE RLLY SOFT THOUGH LIKE......

vyn richter who is so resigned to the world the people in it being cruel growing past the need to throw shots at artem (never gonna forget "after all, i have two doctorate degrees, whereas artem only has one" iconic) and realizing that artem is...much too kind for his own good. realizing that artem isnt worried about the world being bad, hes worried about himself failing that world. as vyn falls in love with artem, he'd wonder that artem is too good for this world. maybe, artem is too good for vyn as well, vyn would think. some nights, vyn thinks about being forward with his feelings, but he stops himself so many times because he wonders just what a good person like artem wing would do if he saw who vyn really is, all those things from his past he hides, all those insecurities he keeps under lock and key.

artem wing who is so scared of not being perfect growing past the need to be defensive against vyn who seems to be the picture of perfection, completely in control of everything about himself in a way artem envies, and realizing that...vyn is doing this because hes hiding, because hes scared. artem believes vyn is good as well, but so much of that good is smothered with smokescreens by vyn himself, as if if he lets his goodness shine clear, something will come out and strike him at his weakpoints. as artem falls in love with vyn, he'd wonder that somebody like vyn shouldnt have to be scared. artem wants to reach out, shed the his own shields and be sincere, and artem doesnt care that he knows he'll be clumsy about his sincerity, because....because some nights, artem's heart yearns to be the one to make vyn never have to be scared ever again.

vynartem, to me, is a love story between two men who are so absolutely used to hiding parts of themselves they think are undesirable but then like...deciding to be brave, eventually. deciding to be sincere no matter how hard it is, because they both believe in the other so much.

BUT ALSO WATCHING THIS LOVE STORY WOULD BE FUCKING EXCRUCIATING. early twenties nxx gang tryna set them up be like

mc and marius holding a cup to the door of the room vyn and artem are in alone

mc: marius, youve been hogging the cup for forever! what are they saying!!!

marius: thats the thing, they arent saying anything!!! are they just....sitting in silence together??

luke: they are, oh my god, they are

mc and marius, looking to luke who has his smartglasses on, projecting surveillance footage of the room

mc: LUKE!! I SAID NOT TO USE SURVEILLANCE TECH FOR THIS, THIS MAKES OUR MATCHMAKING FEEL....ILLEGAL

luke: BUT IT'S SO MUCH BETTER THAN USING A CUP TO THE DOOR

marius: fuck morals, gimme the glasses, i wanna SEE

luke: WHAT, MARIUS, GET OFF OF ME, ACK

vyn and artem inside the room, playing online chess, hearing muffled noises of struggle outside the door.

artem in the chess chat: do you think we should tell them we know theyre out there? and that we already got together last week?

vyn: no, i think we should let them suffer for all the matchmaking they did. also, check.

[op-imaginesandmore]

Well howdy again! I was wondering if you could do a scenario with Law sitting with his s/o while they are getting their first tattoo? And a scenario of Zoro training with s/o and it turns into cuteness :3

I know it’s been *checks notes* actual years since I have touched this blog, but I kinda wanted to try my hand at a few of the asks I have in my inbox. Because these are both characters I am comfortable writing for, I shall do two scenarios *jazz hands*. I know it won’t be worth the wait, because nothing is worth over two years of waiting, but I hope it is enjoyable nonetheless! And for those of you who enjoy this and my writing, thank you! My inbox will not be re-opening for the foreseeable future though, I don’t want to get anymore people’s hopes up.

Pairings: Law x GN!reader in the first, Zoro x GN!reader in the second

Warnings: Fluff, mild smut (a little bit of spice, then the teasing of spice), tattoos, tickling, non-beta’d (if that counts as a warning)

***

Law:

The gentle buzzing of the tattoo gun had become almost cathartic in the years Law had been doing the art on the side. His crew had thought it ridiculously cool that he did most of his own tattoos, and had insisted he do theirs too. Bepo was heartbroken over the fact that no matter how much he shaved, the pirate insignia permanently on his neck never seemed to be completely visible because of his thick fur.

He had shrugged nonchalantly at all of his crew’s requests, a small hint of a smile upon his easy going face as he went to collect his gun, ink, and needles.

Then you asked him, a smile on your soft lips as you kissed him down his bare chest, blankets tangled between your legs.

“Wanna pop my tattoo cherry?” You had teased, biting him playfully on the shoulder and eliciting an almost purr from the feared surgeon “I’ve always wanted to see how those hands feel” a kiss to his neck “making a masterpiece on virgin skin” a bite to the shell of his ear, and he growled, flipping you onto onto your back. A giggle escaped you, and then a pleasured moan as his skilled, slender hands played along down your body and teased at your most intimate parts.

“Where and when, but I get to pick the masterpiece and where I put it”

A soft sigh had escaped from you as he bit down on your collar and sucked. All you could do was give a flustered nod, face hot against his cheek as he kissed higher and higher before claiming your lips with his own, a smirk playing on his features.

And now, here you were, eyes watching the concentrated look of his clenched jaw as he tattooed your shoulder. You were laying on your belly on his bed, shirtless and hiding your winces in your forearms.

He had insisted it be a surprise, an uncharacteristic excitement alighting in his eyes as he teased you about it. You were excited too, trusting him to give you something you’re sure will be perfect.

The buzzing of the tattoo gun stopped, and he seemed to pause a moment after giving it a gentle swipe to rid it of the excess ink. You watched as he worried at his thumb, biting it between his teeth in thought before taking a deep breath.

“Okay, let’s get you a mirror.”

He actually sounded a little nervous. You smiled encouragingly at him, taking his offered hand and walking to the full length mirror he kept in his room on the ship. He handed you a smaller mirror to get a better angle of it, and you got your first glimpse.

An awe filled smile spread like softened butter over your face.

It was the landscape of a familiar beach, far away on your home island, a sunset shining orange and pink over crystalline waters and Law’s ship haloed in the distance.

“Where we first met” Law rumbled behind you, watching closely at your reaction “I thought that you’d want a piece of home with you, always” he paused, a hand going to the dip of your hip, finger going into one of your belt loops and fidgeting with the fabric “do you like it?”

You breathed in, hand going to the tattoo and softly caressing the scene. A smile, soft and warm, threatened to split your face clean in two.

“I love it” you smiled, and put the mirror down and turned to face your lover, pressing your bare chest to his “almost as much as I love you”

They kissed, both smiling into each others mouths and you pounced, forcing Law to catch your legs as they wrapped around his waist. He chuckled into the kiss.

“Let’s wrap that up before we get carried away”

“But we are going to get carried away, yes?” You gasped as he nipped at your neck, his strong hold on your ass tightening.

“Oh kitten” he purred, his warm breath tickling your ear “I’m gonna have you begging for more when I’m done with you”

Zoro:

“What page are you on?”

You glanced briefly at the bottom corner of the page you were currently reading.

“765”

“Okay, cool”

And he continued the push-ups.

It had become somewhat of a routine for the two of you. Once you had already finished with your own training, excersized to the point of exhaustion, you would climb up to the library, grab a new book, and Zoro would do his cool down push-ups with you criss-cross on his back, reading your book to the point where your partner was satisfied, and you’d usually go down for dinner with him.

Today, though, you were feeling mischievous.

Marking the page you were on (869), you shifted slightly, fingers running softly through Zoro’s short locks.

The swordsman stopped as he came up from the push-up, head tilting slightly to pin you with a curious look. You gave him a teasing smile as you slid off his back and then slid under him. The look went from curious to unamused rather quickly as a blush creeped up his chest from the look you were giving him.

“What?” You asked innocently, teasing smile threatening to give away your intentions “training doesn’t have to be all push-ups and weight lifting” you looked up at him with a smirk “we can work on stamina, or if you insist, I can be your weights today.” Your fingers were roaming over the peaks and plateaus of his hardened muscles, the valley between each of his abs dripping with a hard-earned sweat from the thousands of push-ups he’d been doing. His face had softened from the unamused look he had been giving you, now he closed his eyes with a shuddering breath as your hands dipped low enough to graze the hem of his black pants.

He was right where you wanted him.

Quicker than Luffy’s fists, you tickled him - tickled him — just under his armpits where you knew he was sensitive. The great and powerful pirate hunter yelped, dropping on top of you in his surprise and eliciting a maniacal laugh of your own as he tried, and failed, to escape your ministrations, straddled on top of him now. The involuntary giggles you got out of him made you give a victorious laugh of your own, before your arrogance became your downfall. Quick as a whip, the swordsman flipped you onto your back, one of his large hands gripping both of yours in a vise like grip and the other one twitching in time with the vein in his forehead.

“You’re gonna pay for that” he seethed, an evil grin and a glint in his eye promising retribution.

Jokes on him cause you weren’t ticklish, which he found so frustrating he growled, only making you snicker and attempt to tickle him back when you freed yourself from his grasp. He dodged, smacking your hands away and attempting to leap up only for you to be on him like a damn spider monkey, wrapping yourself around him like gift wrap on a present.

You nuzzled into his neck, not sorry in the slightest, but wanting to be sweet now. He harrumphed like the grump he was, the image of the two of you, him sitting cross legged on the floor with his arms crossed over his chest and you wrapped around him a funny sight to behold. You bite at his ear and his lips twitched ever so slightly.

“If I say I’m sorry, will you still wanna have some fun?” You purred, a grin playing upon your lips. Zoro scoffed, the blush on his face deepening with every kiss and nip you laid upon his neck and you could feel him turning to putty in your arms.

But just as you thought you’d get your way, Zoro grinned conspirationally.

Before you knew what was happening, he had maneuvered his way out of your grasp and was walking towards the door, picking up his discarded shirt from the floor. He gave you a sidelong look, giving you an almost predatory smirk.

“If you’re good, maybe we can have some fun later when everyone else is asleep” he shrugged “I have first watch”

And then the bastard winked before opening the hatch and descending the ladder.

You blinked a few times, scoffed at the hilarity of being one upped for the first time in your long standing relationship with the Marimo, and scrambled after him down the ladder.

[wonderfulworldofmichaelford]

Michael After Midnight: Crimson Peak

Guillermo del Toro really knows what I specifically want to see. Giant robots fighting monsters? Woman on sexy fish guy action? Weird fucked up fleshy creature with eyes on his hands? Ron Perlman? He really can do it all, and do it all well! Of course, even a filmmaker like him has to stumble sometime, and Crimson Peak has to be that stumbling point, because it was a critically reviled flop, right? Well, no. It was divisive, but critics did tend to like it and lavish praise upon the visuals and performances. And box office numbers are literally meaningless when it comes to telling the quality of a film. The bigger stumbling block this movie had is that it is a ghost story, and I tend to find ghost stories one of the most lackluster and tedious kinds of horror film.

I did not find this movie tedious or lackluster, far from it. It was predictable as hell, but a bad time it was not.

This is del Toro taking a crack at Gothic horror, and as one should expect from the man he absolutely nails the style faithfully. The costumes, the setting, the cinematography, the fucked up and creepy ghosts, the themes… This movie is just visually perfect in every single way. This is to Gothic horror what Sleepy Hollow was to Hammer horror, a wonderful and faithful love letter to a style that emulates it while adding all the power of modern filmmaking to polish that style to perfection.

Of course, this is also where the major criticism comes in. This is a very faithful take on themes of Gothic horror, to the point where you can quickly and easily guess exactly where the plot is going a short time into the movie. You are likely not going to be surprised by a single thing here, unless of course this is your first Gothic horror story. It’s just extremely formulaic to the point of hilarity at times. Like, from the get go you can tell Thomas and Lucille are up to something, this is hardly a spoiler because we get a lot of scenes telegraphing that there is something shady about them, and if you know the way these sort of stories go… well, let’s just say they’ve got ghosts in their basement and flowers in their attic, if you catch my drift. This is definitely not a film that’s going to have you on the edge of your seat guessing what will happen next.

But for me, I didn’t mind. I like these themes, I like this subject matter, I like the atmosphere and costumes and the style! And most of all, I like the antagonists; they are by and large the best and most sympathetic characters in the movie, to the point where I really just wanted things to turn out okay for them even as things were spiraling out of control. They’d suffered horribly and I just wanted them to catch a break, but alas, that’s not this kind of story. I honestly found them more compelling and likable than our lead, who while perfectly fine in her own right is a little bit too vanilla in comparison. I definitely cared about her and wanted her to survive, but I didn’t feel as strongly for her as the antagonists.

This movie had the misfortune of being followed up by The Shape of Water, and it’s definitely living in the shadow of that film, but I still think this is some of del Toro’s best and most underrated work. In that regard, it is also like Sleepy Hollow, which is some of Burton’s best work and yet is rarely talked about compared to his other works. If you like Gothic horror, this is the film for you, and if you’re in the mood for a good ghost story there’s no better place to look. It’s not a perfect film, and if you’re looking for something that takes a bit more risks with the conventions of a genre this isn’t really going to work for you, but I think the look and feel of this movie make it worthwhile no matter what.

And hey, whatever else your feelings on this movie may be, at least we can agree on one thing: It’s not fucking Mimic!

[dameferre]

Hello miss dameferre on tumblr dot com I just wanted u to know that I read wooing the water tribe recently and it's literally one of my favorite fics ever now so thank you sm for writing that masterpiece. That said I also consistently think about an au of it in which zuko thinks sokka is dating azula for some reason and has the mother of all breakdowns bc I think it's peak comedy

y’know it’s really inconsiderate of people on this site to consistently have better ideas re: my fics than me

though okay tbf i think that fic would be like. 10 times more angsty than wtwt and i really don’t take my own writing seriously enough to write angst but oh my GOD what a fucking concept.

so. what i’m imagining. the fire nation is hosting one of those post-war ‘sorry we committed genocide’ reparation celebrations, but sort of like the olympics? there are bending tournaments, and physical sport tournaments and archery and swordfighting and shit, but there’s also a tournament for like. strategy shit like pai-sho and other nameless intellectual competitions

and the gaang are all helping organise these events and eventually competing in them, but azula is forbidden from using her bending (still relatively soon post-redemption) so she throws herself into organising the strategy competitions, with sokka. and these two like. lose their Minds trying to out-think and out-strategise each other. and no one else can come close; sokka’s out-of-the-box, fucking ridiculous genius shit the only thing that could challenge azula’s ruthless genius shit.

so azula and sokka are just going back and forth with each other, making puzzles and logic problems and all kinds of ridiculous shit, constantly challenging and one-upping each other and meanwhile. Meanwhile. zuko’s trying to organise the firebending tournaments on his own and technically, sokka’s meant to be helping him with the swordfighting tournaments (it’s not an elle zukka fic without a sparring scene!) and was really looking forward to having all this time to spend with him, but sokka’s always off trying to be smarter than azula. and one day sokka shows him this like. 3-d puzzle maze he made or something and is like ‘oh, azula’s gonna love this’ and zuko’s like- wait just one fucking second

anyway, cue zuko being like. what the fuck sokka. azula, really?!?!? but he’s trying to be a supportive best friend bc that’s what sokka and zuko do, and then of course (probably with toph’s help) zuko realises the reason he’s so upset sokka’s in love with azula is because he’s in love with sokka, because that’s the fic format and im sticking with it! so this is obviously where it gets angsty because zuko’s spent his entire life fighting to measure up to azula, for whom things come naturally, and then of course the guy he’s in love with has chosen her, and im sad just thinking about it

meanwhile tho sokka’s bricking it trying to figure out how to ask out zuko (because im sorry but the ‘i thought we were already dating?’ without any kissing or formal dates only works if it’s zuko thinking it) and asking azula for advice, and azula, obviously, exclusively gives terrible advice because she thinks it’s funny. so we have zuko trying to be happy for sokka and distance himself from him, and sokka trying to woo him in the worst ways possible thanks to azula (i’m not saying sokka surprises zuko with an elegant meal, the main course of which is the popular upper-class delicacy of fried turtleduck, i’m just. thinking it loudly)

hilarity ensues, yada yada, then at the end when they’ve finally confessed their undying love for each other, sokka’s like ‘how the good fuck did you not know your sister’s a lesbian and already in a committed relationship with a woman’ and zuko’s like ‘she’s a what’ because zuko has never once in his life understood or picked up on social cues from a human woman.

roll credits

[mypersonmyg]

operator error | myg

pairing: yoongi x reader

genre: fluff

rating: pg

wc: 700

warnings: n/a

summary: you’re home early OR yoongi is very smooth

a/n: hullo is almost comeback, i am contentedly buzzing

prompt 19.  S - Smooth. A taste, texture, a pick up line. Anything as long as it’s smooth.

november drabbles masterllst

main masterlist

You’re taken by sudden adjustment, eyes shocked with the extreme dim of your home. If it weren’t for the curated path, candles tracing each surface, you would guess that the space is empty of life, Yoongi still out for the day. Instead, you’re endeared by the overgrown shadows of long framed pictures painting the walls as if ghosts meant to fright. 

“Yoon?” You chance, shoes toed off and jacket neatly placed. You hear a minute shuffling following a crash muted by the close of a door. Not moments later you’re greeted with Yoongi waddling forth, dark fringe kissing forehead, sheepish smile filling full cheeks. “What is this?”

“They’re candles...it was dark in here.” His explanation accompanies the rapid clearing of his throat, nerves eating him in the manners most obvious, You note the fidget of agile fingers, hands itching to get back to task, his pupils holding you in place with their width.

“Well, love, all the lights are off,” You counter, a kiss dropped to his cheek as you attempt to move further inland. Yoongi’s arm catches your own, halting your step. “Is something wrong?”

“No...I just-well aren’t you supposed to be working late tonight?”

“I was, but I finished early. Is that okay with you, Mr.Min? Is your other girlfriend in the back room?” 

“No...I’m glad you’re home, but I was kind of in the middle of something.” He explains, hands releasing your own. You take in your surroundings, the ambient setting farthing peaking unsatisfied curiosity.

“In the middle of something?” Your brows raise, the suggestion causing Yoongi’s to maneuver much the same.  

“Not like that! Can you be serious?” He pouts, your laughter cutting through his explanation, his voice pitched in the soothed setting. “I was in the middle of practicing...for you.” 

This nearly sobers, your lips still pulling between your lips in the hopes of quelling further laughter. You don’t mean to make fun, but the thought of what Yoongi could possibly be practicing in a setting hinting at the romantic gives you the pause of hilarity. You provide a wave of hand, the desire for an explanation further egging him on. 

“Come one then,” Yoongi takes hold of your hand, carefully guiding as not to knock a candle in fear of repercussion. He leads you to your bedroom, the space just as candle heavy though also containing the spin of an old vinyl and the prop of a guitar in the corner, clearly haphazardly placed. 

“What is this?” 

“I told you I was practicing.” Yoongi mumbles, hand seeking refuge at the base of his neck, worrying the pale skin. 

“You were practicing guitar?” The spoken tone isn’t meant to present as shock, but the hidden passion does come as surprise. Not because Yoongi has taken up the skill, but because of the stealth with which he had done so. “Why didn’t you tell me? How could I not have known?”

“I am very stealthy when I wanna be, darling. I wanted to surprise you, but clearly that didn’t pan out.”

“That is incredibly sweet of you, but may I suggest you forgo the absurd amount of candles next time? I’m surprised the place hasn’t already been burned to the ground.” You giggle, Yoongi leaning over to flick the light of the bedroom on. 

“No!” You chirp finger flipping the switch before you trot over to the guitar, resting along the wall. You gently lift it, turning to Yoongi, lip poking and eyes widening. “Play me a song?” 

“I don’t know…”

“You have to! All of this buildup with the candles and the reveal, Yoon, please?” Hi gaze flits between your convincing stare and the guitar hanging from your grip. He’s well aware that he won’t deny as are you, his desire to please never wavering much like your own when it comes to him. 

“Fine, but don’t expect perfection.” 

“You, sir, are perfection at its finest and I will love whatever you play.”

“I am pretty perfect at other things, huh?” You don’t miss the point of his eyes toward the plush surface beneath you, his own cheeks flaming immediately.

“Oh just play...then maybe I’ll let you show me.”