#like it didn't really matter much he wasn't much of a threat but dude it was cool and that's all that matters

[retro-system]

BOWSER JR'S PAINTINGS IN THE CREDITS OF BOWSERS FURY WAAAARFGHHH o(-(

[running-with-kn1ves]

MASKED INTRUDER PT 3 I BEGGGGG, ugh, clingy inexperienced yandere + language barrier + overeager and aggressive + needy needy needy, He is perfect! Honestly i had a spiral and came straight here to read my comfort fics and i forgot how much i loved that one 🥺 leooooo

A/N: Still not sure what I should do about Leo's origins; I've had some thoughts but nothing really planned out. Anyway thank you lots anon!

Here's Pt. 1 and Pt. 2 Word count: 2400

TW: Possessiveness, jealousy, threats of murder, razor blades, average creepy dude living in your walls behavior

Synopsis: An unexpected guest comes over, causing chaos to ensue.

The sensation of soap under your fingernails and warm water running down your forearms was one of comfort that you openly welcomed. You couldn't remember the last time you took a bath, and you could hardly count this bathing of your 'roommate' as a bath of your own.

But with your shirt soaked and your forehead damp, you finally had what could be mildly considered a clean version of Leo.

He begrudgingly sat on the cool tile floor, allowing you to ruffle his hair with a bath towel (which was really a poor attempt to manage the mess of loose, lengthy curls on his scalp.) He needed a haircut for sure, but you couldn't muster up the courage to put the scissors to his head. 

Getting him out of the house to an haircut appointment would never happen. To say he was agoraphobic was a complete understatement-- he abhorred the outside world. You sometimes think about what would've happened If you hadn't taken pity on him, allowing him to continue to find refuge in your tiny home. Or, was it perhaps he was allowing you? Until, he found that you wouldn't suffice as a worthy roomate any longer, disposing of you like he could've done to whoever originally owned this home. The mystery surrounding his origin that he seemed to completely ignore answering on still made you… cautious.  

He still felt like an extension of the house; the smell of its creaky, rotting walls, still always clinging to him-- even now, after you scrubbed him down from head to toe twice. 

You grunted as you roughly tugged his head back and forth to rub the remaining water away. Unfortunately, that left you with a frizzy Leo with more hair spun out of control than you knew what to do with. 

He blindly searched for the towel behind him without turning his head, yanking it away when he felt it in his fingers. 

"Do it myself…" he mumbled croakily, like a rusted music box. 

"Alright." You said, slightly offended. You held your hands in front of you dramatically, watching Leo wrap himself with the towel.

He looked so frail like this, on the bathroom floor with his knees pulled up to his chest. His scrawny frame hardly gave him any weight either, even if he was above six foot. You wondered if he really could hurt you, if-- he ever had the urge, to stab you with the rusty razor blade you watched him grip after he came out of the walls once company left. 

How long would it be? Until he snapped,  until one argument was just too much, and you were no longer his favorite person in the world. Tonight was one of those nights, where you imagined yourself bleeding out on the floor, Leo standing above you with that blade, or perhaps a knife from the kitchen-- the one you noticed had gone missing a few days prior.

Your fear wasn't out of place despite how many times you tried to rationalize how stupid it was. 

Several hours earlier, before Leo was as clean as he was now, you had a guest over. 

It was an old university friend, a guy you met in your first year during some odd end prerequisite or math class-- You couldn't remember. But it didn't matter, at least not to Leo. 

The moment the "intruder" sat down, you heard Leo's presence shift behind him. You could see his black eyes peering in and out of the holes in the dining room, sounds of his sporadic shuffling echoing throughout the house. You cringed everytime your friend looked up and around himself in confusion, curious of the noise. 

"It's just rats," you cover, kicking the wall behind you with a force that should've knocked down the drywall. The sound of Leo letting out a thump of retaliation nearly made your smile crack.

 You had rescued your university pal several times over the course of that night, finding the dead bugs in his drink before he could've noticed, and shutting Leo back into his hiding spots anytime you saw his hand or leg peek through, when he occasionally got the courage to try and dispose of the 'threat.'

It wasn't until your guest had asked to use the bathroom however, that Leo managed to gain a win. Cursing and yelling from the locked door made you panic, the few minutes of silence in the living room having seemingly tricked you of peace. You should’ve known that silence never meant a good thing. 

Sprinting to the bathroom, you got there in time to find your old friend covered head to do in dust and dirt, the bathroom vent still emitting a cloud of grey. Dust fell from the vent, spraying with the blow of the air conditioning. 

"Stop!" You screamed, kicking the back of the bathroom wall multiple times in retaliation. The dust immediately lessened, flecks still falling into your hair. You grunted and cursed, seeing the disaster your bathroom had become and the filth your friend was left in. 

It was safe to say you escorted him quickly out thereafter, blaming the “malfunction” on your worse for wear vent ducts. His confused expression lingered as you walked him out the door. Your horrible cover ups had you questioning whether or not he was convinced but thankfully there seemed to be some sort of unspoken understanding-- maybe he knew you had to be going through something from how odd your behavior was all night-- or maybe it was just misplaced pity.

 Either way, you were relieved to watch him exit the door with a washcloth you knew you’d never get back, telling him to be safe on his way home with a wry smile. 

Shutting that door was the biggest relief ever. The last person you'd want to know about your odd roomate situation was one of the few people in the world who had preconceived standards of you. 

You had never worried about Leo when you had groups of friends over; he never dared to leave from his hiding spot when more than one foreign person entered the house. But this time, it had been a single unknown entity, and a male one at that. You felt the realization hit you directly in the gut as your back laid against that cool wooden door, the sounds of Leo leaving one of his more trickier, less clean hiding spots echoing in the house.

"Leo?" You called out, a slight inflection of annoyance in your voice. 

You watched him crawl out of the large vent in your hallway, the metal grate coming off as two dirty hands forced it to the floor. Leo shimmied his way out of the tiny crawlspace, clouds of dirt coming with him as his legs finally came free. 

Scrambling up, the male blew dust out of his mouth, wobbly getting to his feet. With a sly glare and a satisfied expression, Leo looked towards to you silently; smugly. 

Pinching his ear and dragging him to the bathtub had been your first approach at reprimanding him; but it had done nothing to deter him. Leos silentness and resentful, pouting face left you to scold a brick wall, his rigidness extending to his body's heavy limbs and sluggish pace. 

Even now while slowly rubbing the towel back and forth on his scalp, his face turned away defiantly. 

A quiet moment passed as you watched him scrub himself dry. 

"I just… I don't understand why you have to act this way." 

Leo stopped. His head had been hanging low, thin wrists resting on his knees as water droplets rolled down the ends of his hair. His hand-me-down stretched pajamas covered his chest and thighs. You never thought an old pair of basketball shorts and a faded grey shirt would look so good on him, but you couldn't help to linger on his fingers and the curve of his neck muscles. 

Without warning Leo stood up, pushing off the ground with one hand as he held the towel loosely in the other. 

"What're you doing?" You question.

He wouldn't face you; his mask prosthetic was left on the edge of the tub, and without it-- well, it was impossible to make eye contact with him.

Leo reached for the light witch next to the shut bathroom door, flipping it without a word.

As soon as you saw him pull the light switch the color drained from your face. 

You didn't speak, waiting in the dark to see what Leo's next move would be. Maybe he hid that Razor blade somewhere in his clothes, and was aiming it at you right this second. 

"If you're gonna--"

"Shh." A voice hushed. 

The warmth of flesh was pressed against your lips. It was a finger; hot breath fanned above you,  the finger on your lips turning to a hand that cupped your cheek. Your face was held so securely, being tipped upwards as he stood leering above you. The bathroom was quiet save for the dripping of the bath pipe, and Leo's heavy breathing. 

Leo reached for you, awkwardly climbing atop your lap. He stumbled at first, but the way he curled his arms around your back, you felt like you couldn't let him go.

His nose nestled into the crook of your neck, crumpling into you like an animal looking for warmth. 

"I don't share…Don't like it.." he mumbled.

"What?"

"Things, my things.." He started, the sounds of his labored breaths hitting your ear. "Don't like it when… strangers touch… my things."

"Wai--Leo!" 

You couldn't help but search for his eyes in the dark, doing a happy little wiggle with him in your arms.

"Your voice has improved so much!" You beamed. He hadn’t spoken since the incident, and before that-- well, it took a lot to get him where he was.

“See, I knew pushing you would pay off.” You beamed, gloating in the feeling of success after remembering all the painful vocabulary lessons and hours of his stubborn behavior when you refused to answer his nonverbal pleads. 

Leo’s quietness as you pinched his ear beneath his fluff of loose curls gave you time to snap back to reality-- remembering the words he just spoke. Leo basked in the praise, gripping onto your damp shirt as he ignored your change in expression. 

The obvious possessiveness made you nearly cringe; this is exactly what you were trying to avoid. 

“But Leo, I’m not just yours- I’m everybody’s. There are other people my time has to be shared with--”

You were cut off with the flick of an all too familiar razor blade, twirling in Leos fingers.

“Then….I’ll kill them.” 

“....Kill?”

Leo leaned up, bringing his face closer to yours than he’d ever done before.

“I… wanna kill. Him. Kill….all of them..” His eyes were wide in the dark, and you could see the faint outline of the scars running down his face. You stared hard into his eyes, witnessing the fear and paranoia in them. “They’ll take.. You away. He will.” His throat was getting raspier, more raw. 

“Leo, you know you can’t say things like that..” You softened. He sounded so small, you could hardly believe his words. But in the back of your mind, alarm bells and bright red warning signs were going off. 

You reached for his face, hoping to hold it in your hands, feel the warmth of his skin. But Leo stopped you, holding your wrists. He rejected you from touching his face, again; had things truly changed? Had you made any progress with him?

And like clockwork, Leo reached for his mask, by the bathtub, sitting comfortably on your lap as he faced you. 

He adjusted the prosthetic on his face, resting it snugly as the back clipped. 

“You really wanna stop me from kissing you that badly?” You joked. 

But then the mask was lifted, just slightly, as Leos lips came closer for yours. Now that you brought the idea up, he wouldn’t let it go. 

“Kiss..” He mumbled, trying to reach for your face.

“Ah ah,” You waved a finger at him. “Don’t think I’m going soft after what you just said.” Leo let you push your two fingers against his lips, puckering them. “We’ve talked about this; what did I say?”

“Killing is….it is,” 

“It’s wrong, Leo.” 

“Its.. wrong.” He whined, bringing your other hand to his chest. He didn’t want it to be wrong, he wanted you to let him run wild and do what he knew he needed to do--”

“Promise me, Leo.” You pulled your hand slightly away. “Promise me you won’t.. Hurt anyone. Okay?”

He went quiet, letting a small grunt out as you kept pulling away the longer he stayed quiet. 

“Say it.”

“Fine… okay.” He croaked. 

You went limp and let him hold you close to him, his face leaning close as he looked for your approval. 

“Kiss..?” He mumbled again, following where your head turned to catch your lips. 

“Only because you’re finally being good..” You let him grab your chin like a cat pawing at you, his other hand nestled into your hair. “But you really don’t deserve this, especially after toni--”

You were cut off with a hungry lick, Leo’s mouth twisting against yours as the mask bumped against your nose. He lifted it just a bit higher, concealing only half of his face as he leaned deeper into you. His mouth was as warm as usual, but you could feel his warn down jealousy still through the rush of his lips.You wondered if you should really be rewarding him now after all he tried to pull. 

 A guttural purr released from his throat when he broke free from your mouth with a huff, running his hand down your back. He tried to pull your hair out of your face with his free hand, leaning for another kiss. 

“Wait Leo,” You put a hand in front of your lips, the other out with your palm up. “Give it to me first.”

Leo let out a dramatic sigh. He sat for a moment, stubbornly waiting to see if you’d really push him or let it go. 

“Come on now,” You beckoned with your hand. 

Huffing with frustration, Leo took as slow as possible to pull the razor blade from his pants.

[hazbinhazmeinachokehold]

Sorry if I’m a bother, if that’s the case feel free to skip over this one.

I freaking loved it! I’m now inspired to draw Sam with the overlords now! If it’s not too much trouble could I ask for Zestial, Charlie and the rest of the hotel’s reactions to Sam?

(Ooo!😳 what if for Angel’s it’s Valentino who tries to hurt him?! That could get messy!)

A/n: Nah dude you're fine! Though I don't write for Zestial (not that that's your fault I keep forgetting to put that in the rules.)

Warnings (?): nothing major happens but Val's here so warning for abuse. Also, Alastor is hurt in Husk's part and Val is hurt in Angel's part, it's nothing graphic but if you don't want to read about that skip those parts.

!!!not proofread!!!

Charlie: Just as cuddly as you! Gladly accepts any candy from you. She ends up getting candy from the hotel for you. Let's you tag along if it's safe (or at least what she assumes you can handle.) Despite being the princess of Hell it's a known fact that she's a pushover and usually refuses to use her powers. So it's not that much of a surprise when someone attacks her. What is a surprise is how you react. I'm going to be honest, she is at least a little scared of you now. Though she's pretty sure you'd only attack people when they hurt your friends. We’re about 80% sure they're harmless.

Vaggie: She ain't too keen on cuddles, but isn't totally against it. She's not great with kids when they're just chilling so she doesn't know what to do. Also, she isn't one for sweets but appreciates the gesture. You remind her of Charlie in a weird way (but like platonic obviously.) Vaggie got some crayons for today's bonding activity when some random sinner attacked Vaggie. Before Vaggie could defend herself the sinner was ripped off of her. She just stared dumbfounded as you took care of the sinner. Well, there goes her thinking you're like Charlie. I mean sure you seemed sweet when somebody attacked a person you liked. You became terrifying and did anything to defend them- wait never mind you're more like Charlie now.

Angel Dust: Kinda creeped out by you before you do anything tbh. You follow him around nearly everywhere and keep offering him candy, despite barely knowing each other. But he understands you're a kid and may have a hard time showing you care, but he sets a ground rule: NEVER follow him to work. It's not a place for kids to be, and you followed that! Valentino just couldn't keep his hands off Angel even out of the studio. You too were just at a park, it was night so no one was really around. Until Valentino spotted Angel, you didn't hear any of the words that were said between them. But you did see Valentino hit Angel and that was the end of that. Seeing you almost kill Valentino was horrifying but also very cathartic. After the initial shock wears off you get about 20 bags of candy and however much cuddle time you want.

Husk: He's pretty blunt about finding you off-putting. But you don't seem to care and still follow him around like a lost puppy. The fact that him insulting you didn't sour your opinion of him even a little bit concerns him. So he starts to look after you. Not because he cares about you! Just because it'd be messed up to let a kid get manipulated no matter who they are. He totally cares about you. He gives chocolate milk or any sweet drink you like at the bar. One day Husk decided to stand up to Alastor which seemed to be a huge mistake on Husk's part. It would have been if it wasn't for you walking in on the scene. The threats were made good on. Just towards Alastor instead of him doing them. Husk is a little shaken up but hey he's probably free now. Gets you any candy you want and shows you a shit ton of card tricks.

Niffty: Tbh I don't have much to say about her. She finds you interesting but doesn't give you much thought. Though eventually when you protect her she returns your affection. Because you are scary and small which are both things she is.

Sir Pentious: (this is while he's in hell btw) Not great with kids. Like I don't think the egg bois are kids but even if they are the only experience he has with kids is his minions. But he does try! He does care for kids. He'll get you candy and cuddle if you want. He used to try to take over territories a lot. He always failed but he still made a lot of enemies that way. So when one of them finds him and tries to hurt him while you're around? I mean if he still wants that territory he can definitely take it now. To be honest I think he'd find you cool, even if you're more than a little scary.

[capricornsims]

Some headcanons featuring screenshots from my Sims 3 Strangetown game.

PT9 and Jenny met in 1985. Based on the Sims 2 memories, she found him drowning in the pool since he dived head-first into the shallow end. While everyone was running away in fear - she rescued him and fell in love at first sight. PT9 vowed loyalty to his savior and gifted her with knowledge about Sixam.

Jenny and Lyla were roommates until she married Buzz Grunt. She doesn't get Jenny's attraction to PT9 but she was supportive. Meanwhile, Jenny tried her hardest to break up Lyla and Buzz because she deserved so much better!

The Curious Brothers were forced to cut contact with Jenny since she 'betrayed' their father by marrying PT9 ( valid honestly - thinking about it makes my head hurt )

Pascal having Tycho brought the family back together.

5. Glarn was an emotionally absent father who paid no attention to his kids. Pascal was Glarn's favorite which was why he went to private school. He was also responsible for looking after his younger brothers when they moved out.

6. Pascal is " Well achually" incarnate. He loves to talk about theories and science. Aliens and Astro physics are his hyper fixation

7. Vidcund and Lazlo spend their time joking about how Pascal takes himself way too seriously. They were best friends throughout school and Vidcund was the one who helped Lazlo get his degree.

8. Lazlo is a genius, he passed school with no effort because he was just that smart. Glarn didn't see his genius because he was too busy scolding him for being messy.

9. Lazlo takes Vidcund out to hang out with his friends and works overtime trying to set him up on dates so he can get over Circe.

10. The Curious Brothers weren't that close - and often butted heads but since Tycho was born they are closer than ever. ( UNTIL VIDUND SOLD TYCHO)

11. I know Vidcund was mind-controlled, but imagine if he wasn't. He's in serious debt and these blue aliens offered him like a billion dollars if he sold his nephew. The Dudes in Black wanted to run experiments on him idk.

12. Pascal never really recovered after his kid was stolen and was overly protective of Tycho. Tycho grew up anxious because of the overarching threat of being kidnapped again.

13. Olive Specter is not a serial killer (allegedly) - she just has really bad luck, but she kept up the bit so people would leave her alone! She is really superstitious because she's connected to the supernatural. She makes good luck charms and ensures that Ophelia is really cautious and wears all her charms.

14. Ophelia has a serious anxiety disorder - partially because Olive raised her to be scared of everything for her own safety. She makes sure Johnny and Ripp don't go under ladders, cross poles, or step on cracks. She gets really stressed out when Ripp makes dark jokes.

15. Olive was a good mom until she was wrongly accused of being unstable which led to her baby being taken away. She tried to get him back but there were too many roadblocks and Nervous was already given away.

16. She loves the Grim Reaper and longs for the day she can see him again. Her partygoer job entails her going to funeral memorials.

17. Nervous met Annie Howell in foster care and they are really good friends to this day. He missed her because she was adopted by her older brother and left alone in the orphanage. 18. Nervous was a constant runaway and ended up in the Beaker's house as a teenager with the promise that he wouldn't have to go back to a group home. Unfortunate :(

19. I like how most people agree on how rude and not nice Nervous actually is. He's standoffish for good reason and gives Vidcund a lot of snark for being into Circe. He's chill with Lazlo though.

20. Nervous is the fun dad, and lets Tycho do whatever they want. Meanwhile, Pascal is pretty strict about his schooling ( which doesn't matter because Tycho has alien intelligence) and being safe. 21. Tycho grows up to follow in Pascal's astrophysics footsteps, mostly to build a ship and hunt down his Pollinator dad.

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

Complicated

Eddie's Version. Part two 💕💕

Will be breaking this up into two parts, purely because I love the drama and wanna make Eddie suffer a lil bit ;)

Warnings: Angst, Eddie is painfully slow at realising his feelings. Wayne makes an appearance. Jealousy.

Don't copy, reuse or repost my work.

❤️

Eddie felt like an idiot. He couldnt believe the stupid shit he said to you. Him and Chrissy had gotten into another fight because he's been so fucking pissed off.

Pissed off at himself for what he said to you.

He doesn't understand what's wrong with him? Ever since he saw you with Steve, picturing you sleeping with him it's like there's some fucking monster inside of him.

"What does it matter to you who she sleeps with Eddie?" Chrissy had asked him after he had told her about your fight.

There was no answer he could come up with, Dustin told him point blank that he was a total douchebag.

"Dude, you do realise that you sound jealous right?" the little butthead told him like it was so obvious.

There was no way he was jealous. He was with Chrissy. He proclaimed that he wasn't and Dustin just rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"Eddie, Steve told me what happened. It's like you've deemed him a threat because he's been with yn and you hate it"

Once again Eddie had no reply for that and decided to throw himself into apologising to you.

The next day he's at your door, nervous and kicking himself for being a douchebag. What if you didn't forgive him? You had evert right to tell him to fuck off.

Eddie hated the thought of you not being in his life, he adored you and needed to show you how much you meant to him.

You were beautiful to him, he hated that he made you feel so low, what the hell was he thinking? (He wasn't that was the point)

You open the door and look like you want to slam it in his face.

"I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry. I was a dickhead and I understand if you don't want to talk to me but I just had to tell you that"

The anger subsides from your features and you soften just a fraction.

"What you said really hurt" he swallows and you let him inside.

"I don't have any excuse princess. Just that I'm so very sorry, you're beautiful, the sweetest person I've ever met and I hate myself for hurting you"

He's barely slept and he's so tired but he had to see you.

"Just no more stupid shit Eddie please. I'm confused enough about this stuff with Steve as it is" he ignores the twinge in his chest at this.

"Do you like him?" he asks quietly and you sigh.

"He's my friend Eddie, hes a great guy. There's this spark between us but it's just physical because he still loves Nancy and I love... You freeze and trail off.

"You're in love with someone?" It's like his stomach bottoms out as he hears this and he fights to keep his tone casual.

"It doesn't matter. He doesn't feel the same way" You blurt out and frowns.

"Well then he's an idiot" he tells you gently and you look away flustered, the tension in the room ratcheting up.

"I'm making pizza. Wanna join me?" you ask and he jumps at the offer. Anything to get away from these thoughts racing through his mind.

❤️

You wish you hadn't come to this stupid party, Eddie was still acting a little weird and you had no idea what was going on in his head. Things were better than they were but still nowhere near what you two were usually like.

Yeah he had apologised profusely for what he said but what the hell was his deal with Steve in the first place? You were not here for it and wouldn't hesitate in calling him out.

Speaking of Steve you wish he was here. At least you would have someone to talk to, Chrissy had Eddie attached to her and you could barely get near him.

When you did see him for a few seconds here and there conversation was stilted.

To your delight Steve and Robin do show up to the party and that helps you relax.

"Who the fuck thought having a party in the woods was a good idea? After all the shit thats happened here?" Steve asks unamused.

You grin agreeing with him and hand out beers for him and Robin.

The sparks between you two were still there but he was right, he was still hung up on Nancy and you were hung up on Eddie.

If it happened again then it was strictly physical and nothing more.

Eddie meets your gaze and downs his drink, his eyes trailing over to Steve then you, he grabs another beer and stalks off and you groan.

What was his problem now? You attempt to follow him and get about half way there when you see Chrissy already by his side and tucked under his arm.

It feels like you've been sucker punched in the gut and you turn away. Unfortunately, Jason Carver is right beside you.

Fuck, you should have went home when you had the chance. He's drunk as hell and way too close to you for comfort.

"God it makes me sick watching Chrissy with that freak" He's unsteady on his feet and you cringe as you smell the alcohol on his breath.

"Don't call him that" you snap at him in no mood for his pity party and him being a shit about Eddie.

"Don't know why you aren't more upset though. Aren't you like in love with Munson or something?" this stops you in your tracks and you stare at Jason. How does he know that?

"I don't... I'm not" Jason cuts off your response and snorts.

"Babe come on? It's obvious. He's hardly going to look your way when he has Chrissy is he?" the way he says this so casually and cruel, it hurts like a bitch.

"Gee thanks" he misses your sarcastic tone and moves closer to you. He's so close you can barely move away. What the fuck?

"Hey, maybe we should hook up. That would show them" You gape at him and move away.

"No fucking way" your reaction causes you to sneer at him and he snorts at you.

"Whatever, doesn't stop the fact that you're never going to be Munson's type and you know it"

Jason walks away but the words linger in your mind, you hurry away having enough of this party.

Steve is at your side straight away, he notices your tears and nods over to Robin.

"What's wrong?" you shake your head and wipe the tears away.

"Nothing, just Jason being a dick" Robin joins you and Steve.

"Yeah, I'm thinking a movie night sounds good about now don't you?" she suggests and you nod in relief.

"Sounds perfect"

Before you leave Eddie jogs up to you looking concerned.

"What's wrong? You're leaving already?" he stiffens as he notices your tears and gently wipes them away. The gesture is sweet and it makes your skin tingle.

"Fine, I'm fine. Just Jason being his usual self. Gonna call it a night" he looks disappointed but nods.

"Kay, I'll come see you tomorrow?" you nod and walk, away, chancing a look back at Eddie who watching you go.

💕

Eddie finds himself driving to your house after the party, he doesn't know if your parents are home so he decided to do his usual routine of greeting you at your bedroom window.

It takes a minute for him to climb up onto the roof. He's about to knock when he hears you giggle and moan.

"Steve"

His blood runs cold and he scrambles away from your window. He nearly falls on his ass as he gets down and ends up kicking over your trashcan.

"Shit" he swears and makes attempts to make a hasty exit but you must have heard him because a minute later your at the door.

"Eddie?" you stand at the doorway in a hastily thrown on robe and his stomach sinks at the sight.

💕

"Are you okay? After earlier?" you ask him concerned and motion him to come in.

He does, his eyes linger on Steve's jacket and his jaw tightens.

"Steve's here" he comments and you can't figure out his tone.

"Yeah, we're friends. What is your problem with him right now? You've been getting on great the last few months"

He stubbornly looks away.

"Friends who've sleep together" he murmurs and you grow impatient.

"Why are you so fixated on that? Do you want the details? How many times he's made me fucking come? How good it feels" you snap.

It's like he comes undone at that point. His expression darkens, his eyes almost black and your body reacts to the sight, it's hot and you're pissed at yourself for thinking this because you're furious with Eddie.

"You know what? Fuck you Eddie. Come back and see me when you have a better attitude" you walk away from him and he gently grabs your arm.

"What?!'' he gazes at your for a second, his eyes trail down to your lips and you freeze.

The air is heavy with tension and he licks his lips, eyes flicking back to your gaze.

He comes to and backs away then he's out the door leaving you in shock. You make your way back upstairs and find Steve at the top of the stairs shaking his head.

"I don't know what his deal is" You reply helplessly and Steve softens.

"He does. He just wont admit it sweetheart. Come on, let's watch a film yeah? Not really in the mood anymore" You agree and follow Steve downstairs.

💕

Eddie slams the door to his bedroom shut, his heart is racing and all he can think is what you said about Steve.

Images of you with him race through his mind and he the pain in his heart triples at the thought of you and Steve together.

Steve making you come over and over again, those moans, you writhing under Steve and saying his name. He can't stand the thought of you with Steve.

He lets out a yell of annoyance and slumps on the bed. What the hell was wrong with him. He hated this.

Uncle Wayne comes into his room and sighs, looking to the door then Eddie.

"Thought you were out tonight boy? You have another fight with Chrissy?" he nods his head and Wayne sits beside him.

"You ever wonder if she's really the girl for you?" he stares at his uncle. Really thinks on the question and struggles to answer.

He hadn't been happy for a while now.

"I don't know anymore. Things have been tense for a long time and then there's yn"

Wayne knows something is going on with you and Eddie right now but he isn't privy to all the details. Naturally he's curious because the two of you are very close.

"What's happening with you two. You not hanging out tonight" Eddie slumps back on the bed and shakes his head.

"She's with Steve" he scowls and Wayne raises his eyebrow.

"Harrington? Those two are together now?" Eddie nods tightly.

"More casual. Of course she would want someone like Steve. He's rich and goodlooking, all the chicks dig him. I get it but I still think of her with him and I don't like it, I've said stupid shit" he swears.

Wayne smiles and realises what's up with his nephew.

"Give yourself a break son. We all do stupid shit when we're in love" he pats Eddie's arm and Eddie jolts up staring after his uncle.

Wayne thought he was in love with you but that was totally fucking impossible right?

Fuck.

💕

[bonnieisaway]

A really good detail in Scissor Seven that I think not only is really good for world building but also gives the viewer a bit of a hint as to when shit is going down is the way they introduce other assassins, targets, or people trying to kill Seven.

Honest to Christ, can anyone tell me the names of the underpants guy or the bdsm grandma woman. The answer is probably not. I don't think they even have official names but they've been reoccurring characters in the background since season 1. And I think it's really cool they don't have names that are really talked about! Chicken Island is not that small and I think it's a good detail that while Seven knows a lot of people, he doesn't know them all well but regardless they fill his daily life and he cares for them just as much for their mere presence alone. But also in the episodes where they were targets, it's a good detail that they're hardly really named, it's just like, "my son" or "that guy over there" because in the grander scheme of things they pose no threat and they're just some fucking guy.

But on the flip side of this: there is damn near a whole catalogue of characters who were introduced by a name or title and got like, ten seconds of screen time! The entire time Seven is getting chased:

I mean, none of these five say a fucking word and never are talked about again! But they all have such detailed and gorgeous designs and unique and powerful fighting styles that are distinctively theirs. Not a single other character wields the weapon Wusheng does, Single Blade is just fucking cool and I cannot believe they designed and made such a stellar fucking fighting style for a two minute long chase scene, Li Hua is just fucking gorgeous and I love the way she cooperates with the others, and we never see them again! But it's also such a good detail that we don't! We don't need to! Obviously, anyone with a weapon that Seven passes in this point of time is going to pose a danger to him. But for the viewer, there's a significant difference than going "Oh fuck, who's this guy?" and going "OH FUCK, BEHEADING WUSHENG??????" It takes it a step further to illustrate them as these powerful and terrifying threats, and it doesn't even list their rankings on the list, cause what does that fucking matter? Look at them! They're fucking terrifying! I am going to instantly assume a motherfucker named Nightcrawler is fairly high on the list!!

And it's such a good, stark contrast from the other characters I mentioned who were arguably about as powerful or outsmarted Seven at the time but they were justifiably just some fuckin guy that wasn't meant to be intimidating at first sight because it was meant to be a shock and a little funny they overpowered him. And even after they did overpower him they were still just some dude who's there and that's so cool and it's not only such good worldbuilding and detail but it blends the difference between what being powerful meant on Chicken Island and for the current Seven and what being powerful means in Xuanwu and for who Seven used to be. I mean, look at these fucking five! These are five out of every damn killer in the nation chasing him! Imagine what the fuck else is there!

And this dude is such a perfect balance between the two as well - I mean, he's still arguably a threat, but he's unnamed and his outfit isn't as flashy as the others, but he still holds this significance and weight the others didn't because he had a memory of Seven he described. He's still obviously terrified and not that powerful, yet a threat and important!! I just!! It is so cool the way they introduce characters and present them to us!! Aaaaaa!!!

[sequencefairy]

Hi, I hope this is okay to ask. If not, totally okay! I am recently becoming comfortable with my attraction to women and bisexuality. However, I am also in a relationship with a cis man I care about and love very much. Can I ask about your journey and becoming comfortable with your sexuality within the context of your relationship?

Big question, I love it. Thank you for asking.

So, my partner and I have been together since I was 18, which was well before I really started interrogating my sexuality and what that meant for me. I grew up Catholic, with Conservative-leaning family, especially regarding social issues, so I never really knew there were options other than being straight.

Looking back, I definitely had some very intense friendships with girlfriends in highschool that probably should have clued me in earlier, but I didn't know it was an option and I liked boys just fine, so I figured everyone had girls they wanted to sit really close to and whose hair they wanted to touch, and clearly I enjoyed kissing boys, ergo I was straight.

When my partner and I moved in together in my third year of university, that was when I started to wonder about my sexuality and what being queer meant, especially as someone who was and continues to be in love with a cisgendered dude, and is generally monogamous. I looked at my attraction to women and my attraction to my partner, and looked at our relationship, wondering if I was missing something in it, and wondering if I wanted something he couldn't give me. I worried a lot about whether it was like, the seven year itch, or a quarter life crisis brought on by swapping majors in university and narrowly avoiding a nervous breakdown. I wondered if I was just imagining things, or if I was just being influenced by being around out, proud queer people on the regular as part of being a volunteer at the women's center on campus. I wondered if I should say anything, to anyone, or if I should just keep it to myself forever, suppressing the desires I realised I'd been feeling for such a long time, now. I wondered if my friends would still like me. I wondered if I would have to come out to my family. I wondered if my partner would leave me. I wondered if we would survive this revelation I was having about myself.

It was a scary thing to think about. I could lose someone I loved very much and who I knew loved me, and whose life was entwined with mine. But I also knew that he was a good person, and a kind person - I wouldn't have been with him otherwise, so I had to trust that he would see this not as a threat, but as a deepening of our intimacy and so, in the end, I decided I couldn't keep it to myself. I couldn't go on pretending I was something I wasn't.

It's been a journey, really - I had to come out to myself, and then to the people around me who mattered and who I needed to love all of me and not just the most public bits. I came out to my partner fairly early on, and it was a bit fraught! I was worried he'd not take it well - and initially, to be honest, it was a touchy thing between us! We've grown so much as a couple since then though, that now it's just a part of me that he accepts and celebrates and acknowledges.

I still, many years on, struggle with being queer enough because I'm passably straight, and don't outwardly 'Look Queer:tm:' so people just make assumptions. Even though I'm pretty loudly out online, I'm a little less out in real life. I work in a professional corporate setting, my parents are still Conservative, the community I live in is very rural, etc., which all adds up to not always feeling safe to be out and so I maintain my stealth mode a lot.

But, the crux of it all for me, is that my relationship is queer because I am in it. I am queer regardless of who I am or am not dating. I love my partner, and I intend to keep on loving him until we are old and grey and buried, and my being queer is just a part of me as the person who my partner loves. I fell in love with him before I was out to myself, and maybe, in another life, I'd have met a woman I loved first, or figured it out sooner, or or or - but I don't live those other lives, I live this one, and in it, I love him, and he loves me, and I'm queer, and that's enough.

Welcome to the journey, beloved. It's a lifelong one, and we all do it at our own pace. There's no right or wrong way to be queer, there's only the way you are.

[reallytiredartstudent]

I watched the movie a third time. Because I'm Very Normal about this movie and Not At All Obsessed.

And a thing i noticed this time (i don't think i will stop noticing things for a while lol) is how well they did things that other stories normally always lose me with?

.....okay that was very openended, this movie did so much what others didn't lol.

I'm talking about threat-escalation specifically though lol

Spoilers under cut.

Second parts of movies books series you name, often lose me the moment it goes from 'hey I'm new to this thing and damn i gotta save my friends' to 'hey let's go save the world'. Bc idk a lot of the time stories lose the part that actually made them interesting in that transition.

Also i just like the low-threat situations. I like friendly neigbhor hood spiderman that has to save one city and not the world. i like there to be consequences that can't be justified with 'well we all gonna die if we don't do this so it doesn't matter and nothing is on the table besides that'. I like it when the stakes are 'I need to somehow deafeat the villain, not die, keep my job, not jeopordize my relationship with my family/friends/partner etc and this is getting really complicated now'.

But this movie did smth really really interesting by yeah, raising the stakes, but also like. not. It wasn't a thing of 'hey we need to create more tension to show how Serious everything is now and because last time we saved the city lets now save the world'. The threat from the first movie? It just never went away. We just didn't know it.

Like, the first movie was 'let's not destroy the multiverse' and the second movie also has the general theme of 'gotta stop the destruction of the multiverse', but also Miles primary worry is 'gotta save my father'.

Which is the opposite of what normally happens. The threat Miles specifically worries about isn't the destruction of the multiverse. It's his father death. In a way the stakes have been at same time been held up, upped and lowered.

Held up, because 'the multiverse is dying' is still very much a thing.

Upped bc there's a frame in Miles vision about the Spot where like most of the spiders lie dead to the feet of Spot (maybe) implying that even if Miles did defeat him it could lead to all the multiverse being without spiders.

i need to get my hands on that movie so i can actually show what i mean instead of always relaying on my memory lol

Lowered, because Miles main priority currently is his dad. One person. (not that he doesn't want to save them all, but his father is like. A main priorty that nobody else has) and a lot of the time sacrficing ppl for the good of the world is a Thing that i simply don't like in stories, because it often contradicts the original message from 'saving one person is important' and makes it too large-scale and suddenly it is okay that people die, because the world is at stake and nothing matters.

In the same lane, a good part of the movie wasn't a epic battle against a invulernable being. It showed Gwen doing her usual job, Miles doing his usual life (the mf pigeons he avoided to get in his room lol, love to see you growing my dude) and even in the Spidersociety there had been just. Business as usual. Until they all tried to catch one fiveteen year old Spiderling and failed. (That was so good. It was so good. Miley my boy, that was epic)

(Is there any indication for how long the spidersociety exists, actually? Did it really only start after the collider incident in Miles world? gonna have to keep an eye out for that, bc if yes that means that Miguel has one hell of a year or two behind him)

And in the midst of all of that the movie never lost their jokes. It was dramatic and tragic and i laughed tears. The whole theater collectively snorted at scences, winced in sympathy and had a collective outrage at the cliffhanger. A lot of the time when things get serious, get tragic, stories become to heavy and the few light hearted scenes tend to feel forced. But this movie was like. yeah. We're up against the destruction of the multiverse, but Mayday also needs to take a crap and not even Miguel is going to get away from that no matter how stone faced he remains in the combined force of Peter B., Hobie and Mayday.

Another part of the Dramatic Doom Trap has been so easily sidestepped by the movie like its. easy. (It's not. It's really not. I can not emphatize enough how well made this movie is and how often it takes easy traps to fall into in modern media and just bounces around them like they mean nothing.) The threats faced are all consequnces of actions. It's very directly related to decisions that have been made, some by our heroes, others by our bad guys. And therefore the threats are directly tied to the future decisions of the characters. Their internal struggles are not a B-Plot, not a side story. Not a 'oh we remembered that you were teenagers so you have to worry about the destruction of the world and your crush to keep it #relateable' . It's interwined with the main story line, in a way it IS the main story line.

Miles struggle with who he is and who he wants to be is evident in all the layers of his life. In the way he interacts with his parents, his decisions about his future (the whole scene in the counselors office?), the way he treats his villains (cracking jokes about Spot, then the whole thing about 'villain of the week'), his struggle between being Miles, son of his parents, and Miles, the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man and how no one truly knows who he really is, the way how this inner conflict comes to a climax against all the other spider-people, how the 'Imma do my own thing' is the answer to a lot of his 'side-struggles' but also directly tied to the very heavy and big question of 'destruction of the multi-verse'.

Gwen's struggle with her father about what is right and what is not is in a way the same struggle she has with the spider ppl about what is right and what is wrong, just on another level and the other side of the coin. The same issues that make her unable to find a band makes her unable to ask for help with the whole Spot-situation at the beginning. The same struggle about right or wrong in combination of her inability to trust, rules/canon or gut feeling, makes it that she doesn't talk to Miles about what is going on, kickstarting a lot of the plot just as much as Miles actions did in the first movie. Her decision, resolving of her struggle, to talk and to take things into her own hands is the same for her band and for her to gather ppl to help Miles, to go against the 'rules'.

(I mean 'creating my own band' is a pretty nifty metaphor for 'following my own rules'/parallel to Miles 'i create my own story')

(Do i even need to mention Hobie here again and how he was the literal embodiment of the whole thing?)

My point is, Miles is not just about to rewrite the rules of the multiverse because that's what the story needs, Gwen isn't just gathering allies because it's very convnient to have support for Miles, both things are direct results of their struggles throughout the whole movie (and the one before that). And that makes it so damn interesting to watch.

Btw shoutout to my friend that i dragged along, that hadn't even seen a trailer and came out of this thing shell shocked and looking like they weren't fully in this world yet (understandable) just to have me vibrating out of my skin next to them finally able to talk about all the things and parallels and theroies that currently dictate my entire exsistence and never complaining once about but only suggesting that we should do cosplay about it. (Neither of us has ever done cosplay).

[tokiro07]

Cipher Academy ch.40 thoughts

[Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow]

NOT KASURI!!!

WE WERE SUPPOSED TO HAVE TOSHUSAI OR YUGATA CUT THEIR HAIR TO BE OUR MEDAKA, BUT NOW KASURI GOT RID OF HER BANGS TO BECOME THE TSURUBAMI!!!

Oh, fun little coinkydink, though, much like in this week's Undead Unluck, we're getting a little lesson in character design here: the same way that UU's Rip has a mole under his eye to denote who he is when wearing full surgical gear, we can tell retroactively that Kasuri was designed with a choker specifically so we could identify her once she lost her bangs, as she is pretty much completely unrecognizable without them

Onto the chapter itself, as usual, I am a clown who doesn't voice the thoughts that are actually correct. My immediate thought last week when Iroha said there was someone he wanted to convince was Kasuri, as she was his first friend and she hadn't gotten to contribute much to the story the entire time, so it was weird to me that she wasn't going to be a part of this arc either

The reason I eliminated her as a possibility was because of how Iroha worded his statement, specifically implying he meant someone not in the room. This of course was a rookie mistake, as of course Nisio was going to turn it around like that. That's like the most Nisio Isin thing he's done this entire series, and this is the same chapter he had a girl cut her hair!!!

Funny to consider in retrospect though that Kasuri is not in fact the first girl to get a Nisio haircut; that honor technically goes to Yukako, who we learned about 15 chapters ago now used to have long hair, but that was off-screen, so we didn't count it

I do like this moment for Kasuri, as she made it pretty clear from the get that she had no ambition or self-worth, so her coming to understand that she does have value based on the fact that Iroha wants her around is a nice bit of development for her character, even if we haven't gotten to see how down on herself she really is aside from this scene and her introduction. I would have liked to have it fleshed out a bit more thoroughly, but with the ever-present threat of cancelation, I can't say I don't understand why her character specifically might be a little truncated

I also enjoy that Iroha actively wants Kasuri by his side above the rest of his classmates since she's literally the first friend he made here. Sure, he was on friendly terms with Kogoe first, but regardless of what his thoughts were going in, he definitely knows by now that she's not just backing him because she thinks he's a cool dude. Kasuri, though, was on nickname basis in basically no time at all. They clearly have a level of trust and familiarity that's completely incomparable to everyone else, even considering how shockingly thirsty he is for the other three CLP candidates, so I'm excited to get to see that explored more in the coming arc. Hopefully I'll get to go into more detail on their relationship myself soon, but we'll see

I'm not going to speculate on who the other four teammates are going to be since we don't have much of anything to go on and there's such a high chance of me being wrong, but I won't be surprised if it's basically all girls we haven't spent any time with before, nor will I be surprised if all of them turn out to basically be red-herring characters who were never meant to matter either. Since Kasuri seems to have some kind of sapphic obsession with Botayama, I'm kind of hoping she'll get to come along, but I'm starting to think she might be a gag character, so perhaps not

I'm also not going to speculate too deep into which choice Iroha will make about who he's going to meet with, since both make perfect sense for his character. He's either going to prioritize helping someone in immediate danger, justifying it as what his friend would do or something to that effect, or he's going to prioritize helping his friend, as he can't abandon a friend in need or something like that. In the end, he's undoubtedly going to get to have his cake and eat it too somehow, since these are both plot points that we'll need to address sooner or later, but these specific avenues to reaching those plot points may well be eliminated in the short-term depending on his choices now

Once he makes his choice, I'll probably have a lot more to say on the topic, either based on the explanation he gives or the lack thereof, but for now, it's not at all clear what path he's going to take, so we'll just have to wait and see

[jennawynn]

Discovery Season 1 Episode 9-

Episode 9-

Listen, you never plan to retire or to tell your husband you're going to be able to do whatever he wants after this one last mission/jump. That's when things go wrong.

Time travel or alternate universe? Find out next time!

Episode 10-

Time for a character roundup! on the axes of interesting and likeability...

Lorca- Interesting character if a little cliche, unlikeable. 9/10

Burnham- Interesting character, likeable. 10/10

Saru- Interesting, undecided. 7/10

Tyler- I don't think I like him much. 5/10

Tilly- Not particularly interesting, but likeable and relatable. 10/10

Georgiou- Interesting, likeable, badass, but -1 point for being dead. 99/10

Admiral- Not particularly interesting yet, but has potential. Undecided. 6/10

It's interesting that they have evasive maneuver patterns... It seems like a waste of a good pilot's instincts. The way that the captain has to decide which pattern to use, relay it to the pilot, the pilot has to recall what motions to take for that pattern, and then enact it feels like it would take precious seconds that might be better used in a "It doesn't matter what you do as long as you do something" reaction.

Alternate universe it is!

Michael's hair is always excellent.

Man I knew there was something still shady about Tyler. Fuckin Manchurian Candidate. Dude is not ready to be doing any of what he's trying to do. "I need you to trust me." No. You can't trust yourself, how are you going to expect anyone else to trust you? Tyler and Lorca both, man. Making decisions to protect themselves that can (and certainly will) put others in danger.

Hey Terran Empire, that's the same as the Enterprise's alternate universe.

Hah Tilly's captain. Talk as little as possible. That might be a problem.

And then Lorca does a Scottish voice for the Engineer. :joy: that a Scotty reference?

I like the way they actually show the tech that (as far as i know) got handwaved in other shows. The change of the Discovery's designation by robot, the synthesizing of uniforms and ranks. It makes it feel more scifi vs scifantasy.

Heh they specifically test for Manchurian/brainwashing stuff.

The weird half bob of Tilly's is... interesting.

Damn that was a line... "If you talked to me like that I would cut out your tongue and use it to lick my boots."

OH SHIT. That's not cool! You can't kill the gays.

I don't like the gender neutral 'sir' and I'm not really sure why.

Aww that was the guy I liked? Connor? I didn't recognize him :joy: I didn't actually look at him for long before he died the first time.

lol Tyler and Michael fucking while Lorca gets tortured. Way to make it quick, y'all.

Episode 11

Oh no... they're going to think that Stamets killed him :(

Is that Starfleet assigned/synthesized lingerie or is it Empire? :joy:

Sparing Saru from knowing his counterpart is a slave who waits on her in this universe. :sob:

(I just realized that where Enterprise was bloodless and nobody was Really Dead, I had no hesitation to believe Culbert was dead.)

They changed the way Andorians look (and sound) too?

I don't... I don't know if I don't like this thing with Tyler because he's not convincing? Or if I don't like the arc itself? I'm not sure.

Now that's an interesting moral quandary. The easy route is to let the Terrans execute him- he's a threat and a murderer. But is it 'right'?

UNBURY your gays.

Heh... I called that one. beam him out just in time to beam him aboard the Discovery. Oh nice, she got the chip out too! I didn't see that one coming.

Ha! The Emperor. I kinda figured (how could it not be if Burnham was captain of Shenzou and they wouldn't say who the emperor was), but man what a gut punch for her.

I forget where to put it now, but the Defiant... is that the one that the mirror!Enterprise found in that docking bay? The time fuckery ontop of the parallel universes has my head spinning, especially since I wasn't closely watching ENT.

Episode 12

I didn't like the mirrorverse episodes of Enterprise- they were both too dark for the show they were in and yet not dark enough to be believable.

I do like this arc, though. It feels like it has the right weight and other than the Tyler plot, it feels believable and consistent. The characters are interacting with the world in consistent, believable ways. Maybe it was because in Enterprise, we were watching actors in different characters?

Fixing Stamets and the only way home while also pretending to be a bloodthirsty captain is a lot of pressure for a cadet.

omg. Have my ganglia :joy:

idk why I forgot about what happened to Voq. I guess I assumed he died.

I was trying to figure out why they couldn't pick between turning Klingon into human or overlaying the Klingon personality into Tyler, but I guess I misunderstood. They overlaid TYLER ontop of the Klingon turned human. Man that's complicated.

How weird it must be to hear the man you loved died... from him.

UNBURY THAT GAY.

Ew- a father 'turned more'?

Oh what the fuck. Ok this one I didn't see coming. Wow. I'm impressed. His ruthlessness. His pulling the puppet strings of fate. The light sensitivity. It's rare that I don't have an inkling of a well-designed twist. Well played.

[malusrecord]

~"Jesus fuck dude, you scared me!" (for Jamesssssssssssssssss)

He couldn't deny the fact that he was just glad to HEAR ANOTHER PERSON'S VOICE even if she did sound...mad. Startled, maybe? What was she even doing rummaging around in a dilapidated place like this? What was he, for that matter? He'd hadn't found anything of use here.

"Sorry, I.....sorry." He really can't think of what to say and so James merely raises his hands in what he hopes is placating gesture coupled with him taking a step back towards the way he'd initially come. "I DIDN'T MEAN TO SCARE YOU. I heard...something...so I was just...coming to check it out." It wasn't a lie, per se, but it wasn't the full truth either, likewise James couldn't stop himself from glancing at the woman's shoes as he speaks: Sneakers. Soft, cheap things not unlike the kind he'd seen in droves once upon a time. The steps he'd heard thumping overhead sounded much, much, much heavier....

As if on cue the steps---thick and weighty, strong enough to dislodge a rather sizeable amount of dust from the slowly rotting wood overhead---sound above them, going back and forth with all the slowness of an eavesdropper planning their next move which makes James visibly tense. Whatever---or whoever---it was up there they KNEW THEY WERE BEING LISTENED TO. This threat of knowledge spurns him towards action and before he can fully contemplate it James reaches forward and grabs the woman's arm and tugs. Hard. "We have to get out of here. Right now." Soon they'd be moving across the room. Soon they'd be coming down the stairs. Soon they'd be running after them and--- "Come on...!"

[sacred-stanning]

Chapter 13 Part 4: Not all sword users are created equal

We start up our next turn by having Marisa attack an axe fighter from a forest tile. He has a hit rate of 2 against her, and this is what we want to see since she doesn't have much in the way of defense or HP.

Despite the 39% chance, Marisa doesn't crit. *Sigh*

Tana finishes off the cavalier, Cormag attacks the other cavalier and also doesn't crit. And then I have Franz finish off the axe fighter. If the guy had had a 1-range weapon, I might have left him in the hopes that he would see Marisa's low defense and attack her, but since he has a hand axe, he might prefer to attack someone else, so I just take him out.

(I probably still could have left him though. He wasn't really a threat.)

Also, here's Franz in his new form. I love the little horns on the horse armor!

On the right, Gerik gets attacked, and we get to see our first ally-unit mercenary.

Vanessa also gets attacked. I'm putting this here to show again what her deal is. She can only do 8 damage per hit, but the enemy only has 29 hit against her. She's just really fast, and that's it basically.

Also, here's Cormag getting a level up.

The next turn begins, and Lute destroys the left guy, while Gerik takes out the right one. Then I move Vanessa and Ephraim forward to take on the next incoming group.

Tana and Marisa team up against this cavalier to get Marisa another level.

...goddammit, Marisa

Everyone else moves up like this. I think Cormag was supposed to block Marisa from getting attacked, but I actually left the tile down and right from her unoccupied, so 2-range can still get her.

Enemy phase excitement!

I've always loved this pose that axe fighters hit when they attack in the GBA Fire Emblem games! It's so goofy!

Here's Ephraim being a cool dude and dodging.

And, yeah, remember that tile down and right from Marisa that I forgot to block off, well this javelin cavalier didn't forget.

Oh yes, and in addition to the enemies already here, we've got 3 pegasus knights appearing each turn at the bottom of the map. So here we're already on wave 2.

The funny thing is, they've been equipped with steel lances, which are like 13 weight, but they're still pegasus knights with only 5 con, so they lose 8 speed when they attack, bringing them all the way down to 2 attack speed, and unable to actually double anyone.

Tana and Cormag team up again and get rid of this cavalier.

And then I pray that Marisa finally gets a crit for once.

She does, finally, and she finishes off the guy on her own, which means that Moulder can come down and heal her instead of having to attack and finish the cavalier off, which was the plan if Marisa didn't crit at all and got hit.

Lastly, Seth takes out this armor so that he can go south on a solo mission to the village. None of the chumps down there, and none of the pegasus knights coming in are much of a threat to him.

I have Lute attack this guy from 1-range. He has a hand axe, so he can counter no matter what, and leaving her here means I can put Vanessa next to her while she attacks the cavalier so that Lute and Vanessa can gain support points, and Lute is now in range of that mage to the left, who I know is stupid enough to attack her.

The axe guy only has 26 hit against her, so she dodges his attack anyway.

I realize that Gerik hasn't met his client yet, so he says hi.

Next time: The storm rolls in!

(Selena's Thunderstorm tome, not the rain mechanic from FE7 thank god)

[kettlefire]

(Apologies, written on my phone half asleep)

It was partially stupid, but he is a sixteen year old boy whose life revolves around school, ghostly matters, or sleep if he's lucky.

So yes when you recieves a strange text from a random number, he was a little bit excited to just mess around.

'Meet @ Zeta on 8th, 21.'

Danny hadn't planned on having fun with it at first. His response simply a surprised Pikachu meme. Maybe with the added text 'Zeta? Is that a new drug?'

He thought it was clear he wasn't the intended reciever, except it wasn't.

'Don't tell me you forgot.'

Which at this point, could Danny really ignore this golden opportunity? Whoever would respond with a meme, Danny had to meet. For now, he's best bet was whoever this person was.

'B's gonna be pissed if you don't show.'

The next message came before Danny could respond, but it didn't take him long to come up with a reply.

'B needs to take a chill pill'

That unloaded a fury of messages being shot back and forth.

Questions on who this was, mostly calling out different names. It wasn't hard to piece the puzzle together.

This person thought someone took the phone. Which meant he was still suspected to be apart of the group.

Overall, Danny felt like he was messaging a criminal. Seriously who has cryptic messages for meet ups, but also demands someone name Dick is there for hacking?

'I'm not fucking around, giving the phone to Dick.'

'I don't think Dick can type right now.'

Then the calls started coming through. And Danny did the mature, and smart thing.

He turned off his phone.

Out of sight. Out of mind.

After all, he had school and patrol, and a scheduled after-curfew fight to prepare for. He didn't exactly have time for a phone call.

It's absolutely has nothing to do with the fact that he was certain they'd know the moment he answered.

He honestly completely forgot about it by then he'd managed to finally lay down to sleep. Which was likely 24+ hours later.

It took his phone going off the wire when he turned it on to remember he probably fucked up someone's heist plans.

The messages varied from regular vague threats with names included, to suddenly turning sharp and cold. Clean cut question on who he was.

'Honestly, I was just bored. Didn't mean to fuck up your plans 😅.'

'Who are you.'

Even in the text, Danny can tell he's pissed someone off. Majorly.

He shot back a text stating he wasn't looking to get murdered or imprisioned, so he's rather not share that information. Tossed in yet another meme, as he's been constantly doing through out the whole conversation.

And promptly blocked him.

End of the story right? Wrong.

Barely two days later, and Danny found himself being kidnapped.

Well Kidnapped is a strong word, he was hoisted onto nearby roof by a strange man in black. Maybe a kink thing?

It took him way to long to realize he was face to face with Batman.

Took him even longer to realize that two other members of the League were there.

His initial terror was that they figured it out. They figured him out. They know Phantom isn't just a ghost, and Danny's his civilian identity.

They had to know! Why else would they-

It all clicked into place when Batman growled out his questions. Specifically asking Danny how much he knows.

Three seconds of wide-eyed panic. Three whole seconds for the words to process in Danny's lagging brain.

Then laughter. Full-blown, deep in the chest, laughing.

Danny couldn't believe his luck. Of course the random number just had to be someone associated with the league.

"I, wholeheartedly, thought the dude on the other side of the phone was a criminal."

Short DPXDC Prompts #400

(Wooo! 400!) Danny gets a strange text from a mysterious number. This is the perfect opportunity to have some harmless fun playing along as if this texter truly did receive the right information. Jokes on him, that phone number belongs to a hero and now Danny is awaiting an interrogation by The Batman to confirm that he hasn’t figured anything out about the JLA.

[jplupine]

Feral Possession: Chapter 14

Beneath My Skin

Pairing: Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez x Wynter Hughes [Nonbinary OC] Word Count: ~3.7k WARNINGS: 18+ Minors/Ageless get blocked, Exophilia, Demon!Grimmjow, Feral Behavior, Grimmjow being a Terror, Threats of Bodily Harm, Mentions of Masturbation, Sexual Harassment

Summary: Grimmjow and Gary keep butting heads, and Wynter needs to wash the sheets. u-u

You can also read it on AO3!

Masterlist | Chapter 14: 

  It was getting dark by the time I pulled into the driveway. All of the paperwork, all of the questions, it took forever just to get out of that building. Unlocking the front door, I walked into the dark house and heard claws clicking my way.

  "Hey, Dagur." I smiled down at the dog wildly wagging his tail. Taking my shoes off, I had to lean back when Dagur shoved his nose in my face to sniff at me. Going through the house with the dog at my heels, I opened the back door to let him out.

  Glancing around, I noticed I had yet to see the demon. He hadn't been watching TV in the living room, wasn't snacking in the kitchen, and he wasn't in the yard either.

  "I'm home!" I called out in the dark house, but silence was the only answer. The longer the quiet dragged out, the more worried I became. Was Grimmjow hiding because he fucked shit up, or was he just being moody about me leaving without him?

  Checking the office, I saw he wasn't there either, and went to the basement. It was also empty, so I moved upstairs. The stairs softly creaked, and I saw that my bedroom door was closed. Opening the door, nothing was really out of place except for the blankets and pillows on my bed being tossed around.

  "Where the Hell is he?" I mumbled under my breath with my brows furrowed. I was about to look elsewhere, but a head bumped against mine from behind. Soft, warm breath hit the back of my neck, and I turned to see Grimmjow.

  He was in his human form with his hands shoved into his sweatpants pockets. He didn't look angry or upset, so I didn't know why he hadn't come out before now.

  "What's for dinner?" Grimmjow asked while looking down at me.

  "I honestly don't feel like cooking." Pulling out my phone, I checked the time. "How's pizza sound?"

  "'S good."

  "Cool. Did you have a bad dream?"

  "....What?" His brows furrowed.

  "My bed. I assumed you took a nap and wallered all over it." I pointed over my shoulder.

  "Oh. No. Couldn't get comfortable."

  "Oh, okay. So, what do you want for toppings?" I questioned while going down the hall with Grimmjow trailing after me.

  "Chicken."

  "Of course." I scoffed. "Wanna get some root beer too?"

  "Yeah." He replied, and I closed the back door after Dagur came back in.

  "All right. I'll order, then take a shower. You wanna find a movie to watch?"

  "Sure." Grimmjow bumped his head against mine again before heading to the living room. I didn't know why, but he'd been doing that quite a bit lately. I wasn't sure if the gentle headbutting was an Arrancar thing or feline. But with the power of the internet, I could look it up to see if it was a feline thing.

  That could wait, though. Food first.

  Sitting on the couch next to the demon, we were pigging out on pizza as the movie played on the TV. I still wasn't sure why Grimmjow chose to be in his human form, but by now I knew sometimes he just did things on a whim.

  Dagur was curled up on the cushion on the other side of Grimmjow, and the pizza box was halfway on the demon's lap and halfway on mine. By the time it was gone, the movie was nearing its end.

  "....What happened at the Soul Society?"

  "Uh, not much. Filled paperwork, got the third degree, and someone didn't believe my name was Wynter no matter how many times I said it was."

  "And you really didn't join them?"

  "No." I replied while taking the root beer from Grimmjow to take a drink. Handing it back, I raised my eyebrows. "Not that they didn't try even while I was there to recruit me. Just not my scene."

  "Really?"

  "Dude, I barely ever leave the house. They literally send the exorcists out on missions."

  "True." He scoffed.

  "However....I did find something out while I was there." I said while pulling out my phone. "You were right. About it not being a dog that caused my bike crash, I mean. The reason I haven't had problems with demons since then was Uncle Jordan actually did some magick crap on me. Something about making my soul essentially invisible to demons. They couldn't smell or sense my spiritual energy, but when Uncle Jordan died, the spell broke, which is why I now have problems with demons."

  "Makes sense. So he definitely knew about your power that entire time."

  "Yeah. My best guess on why he hid it was to keep me out of that life. The Soul Society takes in kids with enough power to become exorcists, but don't really do much for those with just enough to interest demons but not enough to weaponize. I mean, they'll save them if they're in danger, but that's it." I explained while looking up what I remembered on Grimmjow's headbutting.

  "Sounds about right. Those crusty fucks would leave you alone if there's nothing there for them to use."

  "Oh, that's funny." I muttered.

  "What?"

  "Sorry, just doing a bit of research." I smirked while waving my phone.

  "On?"

  "Headbutting."

  "....Why?" Grimmjow looked at me like I was stupid.

  "Because you keep doing it to me. Says here it's a way feline's scent or mark territory."

  "Oh." He crossed his arms while slightly tilting his head. "Well, your soul is mine."

  "Yeah, but that's not it." I looked at the demon as my brows rose with the amused expression on my face. "It's also a form of affection. Aw, Grimmjow, have you warmed up to me?" His eyebrows deeply furrowed as his eyes widened, and I saw his ears turning pink.

  "No, it's definitely just marking territory."

  "First the cuddling, now this? If I didn't know better, I'd say you're on the track to actually liking me. And that's funny, considering you want my soul."

  "I don't like you. You're annoying, and a pain in my ass!" He growled.

  "Aw, you like me." I teased while bumping his shoulder with mine. "You wanna be my friend, don't you? Look at that, big, bad demon cares about a mortal."

  "I don't!"

  "Your body language says otherwise. You've been headbutting me, what? The past few weeks now?" Pondering out loud, I saw the color deepening in Grimmjow's ears. "When did I get the first letter from the Soul Society?"

  "It's not fuckin' affection!" He growled.

  "Relax, tough guy. It's no different than the cuddling." Putting down my phone, I did begin to wonder if there was truth to it. Was Grimmjow actually softening up? Could a demon even 'soften up'?

  "Thanks for looking over this for me. I'd hate to turn crap in to my boss." Gary chuckled while leaning on my desk as I flipped through his printed-out work.

  "It's no problem. Looks fine so far."

  "So....blue boy at work?" Gary quirked up a brow at me.

  "No, just in his room."

  "Don't you think he should have found a place by now?"

  "He works odd hours, so it's hard for him to find time to look for a place."

  "What do you think happened to make him so angry?"

  "Huh?"

  "You know, why he always tries to piss people off. There's gotta be a reason for it. Think he was actually bullied a lot in school?" Gary scoffed, and I looked him in the eye.

  "You think something bad happened to him to make him like that?"

  "You think he just chose to be an asshole? Not to mention....bright blue hair?"

  "Gary, he didn't-"

  "My hair is natural, fucksticks." Grimmjow's voice came from the doorway of the office. "So stop talkin' shit."

  "Uh, dude. It's blue." Gary made a face, and the demon looked him dead in the eye with a glare before lifting up his shirt and pulling the waistband of his pants down. Grimmjow, to prove a point, showed off the trail of hair from his belly button all the way down to just above his penis.

  I covered my face while sighing. I mean, I guess I was glad he at least didn't just expose himself to Gary, but goodness.

  "....It's blue." Gary now sounded shocked. "How...."

  "Do you need to see more, or is this good enough?"

  "Don't you dare!" I snapped at Grimmjow, and he smirked.

  "You embarrassed?"

  "No, ass. You just don't go showing people your genitals. So no, he does not need to see more." Grimmjow dropped his shirt back down before strolling over to the desk. Out of habit, he pounced on the desk and crouched while looking at Gary.

  "Why were you two talking about me?"

  "Uh, no reason."

  "Say it to my face, shithead."

  "Okay, will you stop calling me names?"

  "No."

  "Now that's just being childish."

  "Says the one talkin' shit without the balls to say it to my face." Grimmjow lowly growled while flexing his hands like he had claws.

  "What's your problem? Why do you always gotta start shit?"

  "Well-" Grimmjow looked like he was going to insult Gary further, but I cut in by clearing my throat loudly.

  "Hello, yes, still here. You two wanna stop comparing and actually figure out why you two don't get along?"

  "Because he's an asshole!" They both said in unison while looking at me, then shot a glare at one another.

  "I'm an asshole? I've tried to be nothing but nice to you!" Gary pointed. "You know what? I'm beginning to think you're just jealous."

  "Jealous?" The demon snorted. "Of what?"

  "You have feelings for Wynter, don't you?" The demon and I both froze for a second, then Grimmjow burst into laughter.

  "You have no clue what's going on!"

  "Oh, really? Then tell me. Because from where I'm standing, you do have feelings for Wynter. Every time I come over, you're up Wynter's ass and snapping at me or literally anyone else that gets close to them."

  "Gary, it's not like that." I sighed. How would I explain that behavior without telling him about how Grimmjow wants my soul?

  "Seriously? You say there's nothing going on between you two, so why is he still here? Why does he act like a damn dog with a bone with you?"

  "Because he's protective. He was close to my uncle, who if you're forgetting, just passed a few months ago. He's still working through his grief, and I'm helping him." I lied, and Gary got a guilty look in his eye. I didn't want to lie, but this wasn't something I could be honest with. I just couldn't.

  "....Oh."

  "However, that doesn't give you an excuse to be a dick, either." I said while glancing at Grimmjow with a warning look. "Now, I'm busy with something, so could you let the dog out?"

  "Whatever." Grimmjow huffed before hopping off the desk. He shoved his hands into his pockets while walking out of the office.

  "How do you handle that?"

  "Give him a snack or something to fiddle with." I replied while flipping the page in the packet I was holding.

  "What is he, four?"

  "Try six." I popped off, but the joke would go right over Gary's head since he was completely unaware of the meaning. "And as for what you were saying earlier, if you think something happened to him to make him act the way he does, talk to him about it, not me."

  "Like he'd talk to me about it."

  "Then is it your business? You don't even like him." I questioned.

  "Well.... No, not really. But still, gotta wonder."

  "I know you mean well, however, he's working through things, and since you want nothing to do with him, it's better to just stay out of it. Who knows, maybe when he's done figuring things out, he won't be such a dick. You might get along then."

  "Doubtful." He made a face, and I shrugged.

  "Can piss-boy stop coming over? I'm tired of seeing his stupid face."

  "No, this is my house. I told you to stay in the room if you didn't want to see him." I said while unsheathing my katana.

  "But he even says the most annoying shit." Grimmjow grumbled, smacking his hands together before slowly pulling them apart as his own sword formed between his palms. "Don't you get exhausted listening to that crap?"

  "What crap?"

  "All of the crap."

  "I honestly don't get why you don't like him so much. At first, I could understand. But now? Come on, that's just a grudge at this point." Setting the sheath down, I took my stance in front of the demon. "Can't you cut the guy some slack?"

  "I'll cut him something."

  "Grimmjow."

  "What?!"

  "Come on now." I gave him a look and he clicked his tongue.

  "I don't see why you like him so much. He's boring and smells weird."

  "We've been friends since we were kids. And he's not boring, you just haven't given him the chance to get to know him."

  "I honestly don't want to." Grimmjow swung his sword at me in a downward motion, and I managed to act fast enough to block.

  "Do you seriously only give two shits about a person if they're strong or you want to fuck them?"

  "Yeah. He's neither." The sounds of our swords clanging against each other echoed in the yard.

  "You ever think you wouldn't be so lonely if you weren't that shallow?"

  "I'm not lonely."

  "You were so touch-starved that you acted like I'd slapped you when giving you basic affection. Now you literally make me give you affection."

  "I don't 'make' you."

  "Really? Putting my hand on your head, crawling up beside me, flopping down on me, even the damn headbutting. You crave contact, but you push everyone else away who could give you it. You act like humans are just ants at your feet, except you refuse to even sleep in a different bed than me." I blocked another attack while taking a step back. "Hell, the only time you talk positively about humans is when you talk about fucking them. There's more to us, and to life, than empty sex and bloodlust."

  "You think I don't know that?" He growled with his face close to mine as our katanas were crossed.

  "Then why keep acting that way?"

  "Because I don't know anything else, you little shit." Grimmjow added pressure to his sword to push me back a step. "I barely know half the shit going on inside my own head anymore."

  "What?" My brows furrowed as I dug my heels into the dirt to not be pushed back further.

  "You fucked everything up."

  "What are you talking about?"

  "I mean what I said. You got me thinking shit I don't even get or want to think about."

  "You ever wonder if asking me about what you don't understand might help? I do know more than you think. What is it, Grimmjow?" I questioned, while wondering if this was a genuine breakthrough with the demon having more human thoughts and feelings.

  "It's weakness."

  "You call me 'Little Rabbit', you really think I care about stupid shit like 'weakness'? Not to mention thoughts and feelings aren't weaknesses. It's just being." I grunted as I slid back a few inches in the grass.

  "Then tell me why the fuck it's happening if it's not weakness?! I can't keep sharp in this fucking place. I can't fight, I can't kill, I can't sink my fangs into anything!"

  "Well, tell me what it is first of all."

  "I don't know."

  "Describe it. If it's not coherent, just give what you can put words to."

  "....Heat. Burning beneath my skin, through my veins. It's not like the rage."

  "When do you feel that way?"

  "All the fucking time."

  "Okay, what else is there?"

  "The impulses. Those are the worst." Grimmjow's nose twitched into a snarl. "They're so fucking hard to control."

  "Since when did you try to control your impulses?"

  "I.... You tell me no. Over and over, you tell me no."

  "To?"

  "Touching you. I get these stupid fucking urges to touch you, but all you allow is the 'platonic cuddling'." He made a face while saying the last two words. "So I take it, but even then, they don't stop. I want to fuck you so damn bad, but I don't even know why I want to fuck you so badly. I've met souls with more power than you and it wasn't like this." Grimmjow explained.

  Oh, goodness. Was the demon getting sexually frustrated?

  "I just want to rip your fucking clothes off and touch your skin. I want to feel you, taste you, mark you. I want inside you, Wynter. I want it so badly it drives me nuts."

  "It sounds like you're actually pent up. Have you tried masturbating and see if that helps?" I asked while trying to keep a straight face. He seemed genuinely irritated, like it was seriously bugging him, but goodness, to say that to me so bluntly.

  "....What?"

  "Masturbating. You know, rubbing one out? Jerking off? If you're sexually pent up, you're going to want it more. You might be having those urges more so toward me since I'm the only one around." His eyes narrowed at me before he took a step back while holding his chin.

  "And that works?"

  "I mean....it helps."

  "We're done training for the day." He tossed up his other hand, and his sword turned to smoke.

  "Wha- We barely even started."

  "Too bad."

  "Where are you going?"

  "To jack off. I need this shit out of my system." He waved over his shoulder before going into the house. I just stood there with my mouth hanging open.

  "You have got to be kidding me." I muttered.

  Since training had been canceled, I was actually getting more work done now that I had a chance of peace and quiet. Dagur was curled up at my feet and napping, and Grimmjow....

  Well, he was still upstairs dealing with his urges.

  I just hoped this would actually work if what he'd told me was true. I mean, it sounded like he was just itching to pounce on me but was holding back due to lack of consent. Which, on another note, made me realize Grimmjow did have an odd sense of morals.

  He'd rip somebody apart with glee, probably even gnaw on their bones for the Hell of it, but he still held back his own sexual urges if consent wasn't given. Even so, he still seemed fine to grab someone's ass, or lick their face, regardless.

  And, perhaps, maybe some of his moodiness will ease off if this is what has been on his mind so much. There was no guarantee, so I'd just have to wait and see. But this also raised a few other questions like if Arrancar specifically didn't need to actually eat, didn't that imply the lack of genuine 'life'? Why was sex even a thing for them without procreation? Why even have genitals?

  And how could they have normal bodily functions if the need for food wasn't present? Grimmjow had pissed on Gary, but that meant his body, or projection at least, was able to process something he drank.

  Leaning back in my chair, I paused.

  No, the Arrancar did have a need to eat, just not in the same sense as humans. They were created through cannibalism, literally eating other souls and demons. So, even if their main food source was different, did that mean they retained the ability to process other regular foods from when they were still alive? That would also explain the genitals and desire for sex if that were the case.

  But if Grimmjow needed to eat souls, was he placating that need by eating human food instead? I was aware not everything concerning demons could be explained by logic or science, like their use of magick for instance, but I did want to at least figure out as much as possible. This would be easier with more Arrancar to compare with, but Grimmjow was the only one that couldn't kill me.

  He was also rather interesting if I was being honest. Despite his bloody history, he still enjoyed relaxing on the couch with a pizza or curling up with someone to sleep. What exactly was his drive for destruction? Or any of the other Arrancar? From the book, it looked like even the other Espada had specific drives, or motives, in what they did.

  For example, with Murcielago, the accounts of him showed a cold indifference, and he only fought when provoked, unlike Grimmjow. He was even ranked higher than Pantera but wasn't even half as violent. So, clearly, bloodlust wasn't the drive behind their actions across the board. They were varied, but I wouldn't know just how much without actually getting to know them.

  The damn book was lacking so much.

  "What are you doing?" I questioned as Grimmjow was holding my jaw to make me look at him. His brows were deeply furrowed, and his eyes narrowed as he was staring me down.

  "Seeing if it worked."

  "Please tell me you washed your hands before touching my face."

  "Wouldn't you like to know."

  "Grimmjow."

  "I did."

  "Oh, thank goodness."

  "It seems like it actually worked. I don't want to fuck you as badly as before. I mean, I still kinda do, but it's just the normal desire to."

  "....That's good?" What the Hell was I supposed to say to something like that?

  "You might want to wash your bedding though, Little Rabbit."

  "Wha- You did it in my bed?!" I smacked the demon on his chest.

  "Where else would I?"

  "There's other rooms! Bathrooms, even!"

  "Yeah, but your bed smells like you. If you're not gonna give me porn, I gotta have something."

  "Oh, I'll give you something!" I picked up the nearest thing to throw at Grimmjow, and he bolted while laughing before he could get hit.

[snugglyporos]

Oh boy! A huge chance for me to say how Alan Moore ruined comics. (Before you start, he wasn't alone, Frank Miller and Neil Gaiman had a lot to do with it as well.)

Alan Moore is the archetype of a certain kind of transgressive person that got really big in the 1980s and 1990s: the sort that likes to crap over everything popular because they're convinced that if something is popular it's bad. These are the guys who gave rise to dudes like Zack Snyder two decades later. People whose lodestar is whether or not people think it's good.

Now, granted, this was pop culture then. It's tired and overdone now. And I would be remiss if I didn't talk about why Moore wrote things like Watchmen and From Hell and League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, because unlike some authors, Moore has a point, even if I think it's a bad one, and I should engage with that point.

Moore wrote things like Watchmen because he wanted to kill his nostalgia. He specifically, very specifically, wanted to murder his nostalgia, and he wrote what he felt was the most un-comic like comic he could come up with, and that was Watchmen.

One of the things that Moore has expressed in many interviews is that he's never understood why people emulated Watchmen, because to him it was one big expression of his bad mood, and it was his, and liking Watchmen misses the point.

Watchmen is a comic wherein the main point is that you should not idolize people, that everyone who is at the top is in some way morally or ethically compromised, and you really shouldn't valorize those people who are morally uncompromising. People turned Rorschach into the baseline for what they think Batman should be, but that's entirely wrong. Rorschach is what Moore thinks of Superman. He's a morally uncompromising individual who is willing to put anyone and everything at risk if it means standing by his principles, and Moore hates this, and it drives him nuts that people valorize a comic wherein the explicit purpose is that there are no good guys.

Keep in mind, Rorschach is a man who believes that the truth should be spoken, even though he also knows that if he says the truth, there will be nuclear war and everyone will die. The entire purpose of Ozymandias' deception involving a giant alien squid is to unite the planet and steer it away from nuclear Armageddon, because he believes that if humanity doesn't have some kind of outside threat to unite against, real or imagined, that humanity is finished. And it's implied in the comic that he's correct in this assumption, because again, Watchmen is a comic where Nixon is essentially president for life.

The two moral choices in Watchmen are 'tell the world what happened and let them nuke each other, thus killing all of humanity' and 'choose to go along with Ozymandias' plan and create world peace based on a lie.'

And if your response is 'that's really dark and awful' congrats, you understand the world of watchmen, a series where Hooded Justice is a pedophile, the comedian is a rapist, and there is not a single character who is not in some way repugnant.

In From Hell, there's a hugely masturbatory scene where Jack the Ripper sees the future and yells about how fucking small and pointless he is, and about how they all live purposeless, boring, uninteresting lives, and for all that he did, none of it matters.

In League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, Moore spends his time showing how 'heroes' are in the end, all terrible people, and that for all the talk of other people idolizing them, none of them are ever happy or good in reality.

Moore, you see, is very much about the disconnect between our perception of things and the reality of things; he's very much aghast that people have heroes and idols and that they worship at the feet of people who wouldn't give them the time of day.

If he rejects something, he rejects the idea that you should write just to write; your writing needs a point in his eyes, it should say something. The idea that writing, or comics for that matter, should just have stories of things happening is to him, anathema.

However, I would be somewhat remiss if I didn't discuss his critique of Tolkien, which is in some ways, entirely accurate, because Tolkien loves him some mythology and loves him some 'monarchy is best' iconography.

He's not wrong that Tolkien wrote stories about what he knew, which was the British Empire. In Middle Earth, the 'true king' is preferable to even the most lightly democratic of systems, and this system is decided by whoever can wield a sword correctly. Elves and Dwarves are openly, fiercely racist towards each other, and yet this is celebrated. In many ways, the whole complaint about 'is it racist for people to hate orcs in your fantasy story' goes right back to Tolkien. If you think Orcs are bad because they rape and pillage and murder things as a racial trait, you're both a racist and you're buying into what most fantasy stories use as their framework. As it turns out, moral absolutes such as good and evil result in bad things! who would have guessed!

I could also use this as a way to point out that Moore and his ilk are responding to things like Jack Kirby's Fourth World, which exists wholly in absolutes, and is also shit for a whole host of other reasons I won't get into here.

But, to circle the point around, Moore is unhappy that people love Rorschach because he's meant to be a horrible person, and he is. He's a character who believes it's better for everyone to die in hellfire than to lie to them, who gleefully tortures and murders people because in his view, things like 'rights' and 'innocence' don't exist. He's basically the same character that is played in every Death Wish movie, the uncompromising moral hero who believes that shooting lots of black people who are protected by the law is a good way to fix society. That's who Rorschach is.

People adoring him and turning him into an archetype is why we now have 'the goddamned batman' and why comics suck now. Alan Moore is a guy who released an idea into the world, and then watched everyone else pick it up and turn his message about not creating religions out of things into a religion.

He's a man who yelled 'don't idolize me!' to a crowd of people who immediately went and idolized him.

His bad mood is one of the main reasons comics suck now. He's one of the core reasons why comics turned away from an underlying idealism that is required for comics to work. Because without that, one has to ask why heroes exist at all, and why if everything is just going to get perpetually worse, why this isn't just a world of villains like in The Boys or anything written by Garth Ennis, a man who viciously detests superhero comics and anyone who likes them.

(side note, I find it deliciously ironic that Ennis, a man who used things like the Boys to crap all over superheroes and people who like them the same way he did with Kick-Ass, will forever be known primarily for his work on superhero comics.)

Alan Moore is a idiot.

[s-brant]

The Endless Summer (2/?)

(gif: @beccs) (PART ONE) (SERIES MASTERLIST)

Summary: A day out on the water goes awry and puts JJ, John B, and Y/N in danger. With tensions rising and the stakes higher than ever, JJ finds it difficult to control his feelings.

Word Count: 9.1k

Warnings: Angst, implied sexual content, strong language, graphic violence, and JJ being an emotionally confused asshat.

A/N: Welcome back! Thanks for the love on this series, I’m so glad you guys like it and I hope this part is just as good. Things get a little heated in this chapter, so buckle up. Let me know if you enjoyed this. Have fun!

JJ isn't sure why she did it.

He wasn't sure then and he isn't sure now, but he knows one thing for certain: there isn't any going back to how things once were now that the barrier between them came crashing down.

Sweat drips off of his skin from the relentless heat of the Caribbean that has made their recent lives hell with the painful tinge of sunburn atop their tans and heat exhaustion they must be careful to avoid at all costs. They were educated on both topics by Pope, their godsend of a survival encyclopedia in human form, who advised them to spend most of their day outside of necessary tasks like fishing and constructing stable shelter under the shady cover of the treetops.

The sole reason he and John B aren't hiding in the safety of the shade is that it's their day to fish, but he's not thinking about the sun. In fact, neither of them is. They're both wondering where their third fishing buddy is.

It took roughly ten minutes of spearfishing with him in comfortable silence for JJ to finally break and spill his guts about what happened last night. Though there was an unspoken agreement to never tell anyone that their hatred has turned into desire, he couldn't help it. He was going mad trying to unravel it in his head.

After all, he already had a conversation with JB about the recent shift in their behavior with each other by the ocean last night, so it seems fitting to pick up where they left off with the calm and clear blue water in front of them again.

He walks on the jagged outcropping of rock that serves as their perch to observe the fish without disturbing the pattern of the current they swim through with John B closely behind.

"One second she's pissed at me, the next she's all over me. It makes no sense. Then, she didn’t say anything to me after it happened," JJ says with his face hardened into a look of concentration at the fish he squints against the sun to aim at, "Not even "Fuck you, Maybank" or one of her weirdly creative threats. She just sat there all night and talked to everyone but me."

His gaze slips away from the water as his chosen fish disappears from sight before he can bother to throw the spear, eyeing up his friend's reaction to the news.

John B doesn't seem that surprised by it, because who else, aside from everyone else in Kildare who knows of their "hatred" for one another, could've seen it coming as much as he did? He considers it for a second, then props his arm up on the handle side of the spear he digs into the rock to lean against.

"I'm pretty sure that means she likes you."

JJ retorts, "That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard you say."

Why would anyone ignore a person they like? It makes no sense to him. Every time he wanted a person, he'd simply walk over and make it happen. It's never been difficult for him to pursue the people he finds himself attracted to...Well, except for her. For a guy that also ignored her for the rest of the night and pretended their moment in the woods didn't happen, he has some balls of steel to be chastising her for the same things he did.

John B shrugs and says, "I'm being serious, dude. Sarah wouldn't even acknowledge my existence when I worked on the Druthers, and I thought it was some stuck-up rich person thing but it wasn't."

They shouldn't be talking at all right now as to not scare away the fish, but they do it anyway. They both know he won't let it go until it's out of his system for good. He wouldn't allow himself to forget it if he wanted to, so its better to talk it out than turn stir crazy from ruminating over it 24/7.

Though it's, as he worded it yesterday, hot as balls out, being by the sea lessens the feeling of it by a landslide.

The breeze they crave whenever they work on their huts or forage through the forest for wild berries, coconuts, or potential building supplies blows on them without pause for the time they spend here, which almost makes it more dangerous. They stand under the direct harm of the UV rays frying them without truly feeling it burn yet, and he dreads the next few days in anticipation of the returning sunburn he just peeled off of his shoulders the other day.

JJ walks down the side to get a better view of the water, balancing precariously on the sharpened edge with the spear clenched tightly in one hand. The breeze is strong enough to threaten his balance, but he holds firm and digs his toes into the sedimentary rock for traction. His body sways in the midday sun with the struggle for stability, or, at least he suspects its midday.

Since being stranded here, time is a foreign concept to them. With no phones, clocks, or any guide to go off of other that the position of the sun above to display the hours that pass, they've lost complete track of what day it is, let alone how long minutes or hours truly are in comparison to the endless summer they live within. They suspect it's been a month since they were left here, but, in all honesty, it could be two. None of them had the sense to mark the days in a tally until it was too late.

He says, lifting his arm to throw the spear, "Well, she is a stuck up rich person, so maybe it's just—"

"You know I'm right here, don't you?"

The sound of her voice from a few feet behind them startles JJ into turning around to look at her right when he lets go of the spear.

Unfortunately for him, the jerking movement throws off his carefully distributed weight and skews his balance, making the feet placed on the edge slip from underneath him and send him slipping down into the water. His calf is the first body part to hit the rocks, and the groan of pain he lets out at the feeling of the jagged rock slicing through his skin could make her heart stop mid-beat. But what truly scares her is seeing the back of his head hit the ground too.

Before he can slide the rest of the way into the water, two pairs of hands are grabbing onto his arms and heaving him up with all of their strength. She and John B grit their teeth with the effort it takes to pull him back up, their muscles burning from the strain, and once his feet are over the ledge, he pushes off the rock to help them the rest of the way. Drops of his blood disperse into the water off the edge from where he cut himself, dripping until there's hardly any left.

Once he's safely laid back down a few feet from where he slipped, Y/N is kneeling in front of him in a matter of seconds. The rock beneath her knees opens small cuts into her skin, but she doesn't pay it any heed. She sits on her heels to lessen the minor pain and lean forward to inspect the damage he took with nothing on her mind other than worry.

Soon enough, John B joins her to kneel at his feet as he sits up and watches them eye up his injury as though it’s some sort of ghastly, life threatening thing instead of a gash that won't need stitches. He watches them against the glittering ocean, waves washing up on the rocks around them to sting his wound with saltwater.

"It's a scratch, not an amputation," JJ says.

She ignores him with a frown lining her pretty features and twists his leg by the ankle to get a better view of the wound in the sunlight. It extends up the entire length of his calf, almost from ankle to knee, and dribbles fresh blood onto her hands as well as the ground beneath them. From what he can tell, it doesn't look all too severe. No muscle or bone can be seen, so it's a simple, superficial scratch.

When he doesn't get a response from either her or John B while they're too busy checking out his leg, he says again, "Guys, I'm serious, it's fine."

This time, she doesn't hesitate to answer.

"Yeah, well you may not need stitches but you still have infection to worry about. This wilderness isn't exactly the cleanliest place," she says retorts with as much snark as usual, and he quietly rejoices in the fact that she's finally acting normal after what happened last night, "Not to mention, you hit your head pretty hard. There's no need to act all tough."

He shrugs.

"It's not an act, it really doesn't hurt that bad."

John B stands and smears the blood on his hands off on the front of his shorts.

"I'll be right back, guys, I'm gonna go get stuff to patch him up."

Just like that, they are left plunging into silence as he is running away down the peninsula back to the beach they've claimed as their own.

Silence has always been her least favorite thing to share with JJ. She'd rather anything over it—screaming, fighting, joking, friendly conversation, or even what they did together yesterday night. Anything is preferable over the tense and insufferable feeling of silence when they're alone together with none of their friends, or their playful hatred, between them as a barrier between them.

Instead of seeing the same pestering jerk she always used to when she looks at him, she sees the memory of how he looked at her in the woods. He didn't look at her like she was the worst person to ever walk the planet, or like she was his least favorite Kook "Princess", he looked at her like she meant something to him.

They sit together in uncomfortable silence in the time it takes John B to rush to the beach and back, careful not to slip on the rocks the way JJ did, with the supplies from the dinghy in his arms. It isn't much to work with, but at least it's something to keep the nasty wound on his leg protected from dirt and germs. She's sure he'd leave it uncovered and up to fate if he had it his way.

Before he can set them down on the wet rocks, thus ruining the gauze and bandages in craters filled with ocean water, she gestures at JJ with a stern command, "Take off your shirt."

His brows raise.

"Shit, Princess, take me out to dinner first."

She groans in frustration, "Can you be quiet for a second and actually listen to me for once?"

He catches John B's gaze with wide eyes, but complies nonetheless, reaching down to tug the tank off of his torso by the frayed hem until it's balled up in his closed fist to hand off to her. Her eyes only linger on his body for a quick second on accident before snatching it from him.

Her bloodstained palms lay the shirt out on the flattest stretch of rock she can find to act as a barrier from the small puddles of water to protect the supplies. One nod at John B has him setting them down atop the navy fabric as she glances up at JJ with a smug smile.

"Believe it or not," she taunts, unscrewing the cap to the disinfectant, "I didn't ask for it so you could sit there and look pretty."

The words throw him back in time to their conversation on the beach while they thatched the roof to their hut, and he wonders how long she's been waiting to throw that back in his face since he first said it.

He grins at her as he asks, "You think I'm pretty?" but before he can say more, she's pouring a generous amount of the hydrogen peroxide along the length of his cut without a warning for him to prepare himself. His leg jerks away on instinct to save himself from the burning sensation, but she grips his ankle tightly enough to force him to stay still.

His nose scrunches up with the urge to groan in pain, and he does a little. Through grinding teeth, he winces in response to the peroxide slipping into every cell of open skin and bubbling up like the white water of the waves as it kills the bacteria lingering in the gash.

"Does it hurt now?" Y/N asks.

She's looking up at him through her lashes with her lips curled into a smirk as she packs gauze onto the wound until it's covered to her satisfaction. And it should be the last thing he's thinking about right now after cutting up his leg and hitting his head hard enough to worry her about concussions, but he can't help it. Looking down at her like this, it's impossible for him to not think about the unfinished business they have.

Everything is the same as it was yesterday—the tattered white top, the red panties in place of a bikini, sunburnt cheeks, and a taunting look that he'll never get tired of seeing. But that's precisely why he's reminded of it. She's wearing the same clothes and looking at him the way she did on the beach before any of last night's antics occurred, and he can't keep himself from wondering if it'll happen again.

"Yeah," he finally responds.

Her smirk grows for a second before she gets back to work.

"Good."

JJ subtly eyes her up from where she shifts on her knees to set the open gauze wrappers under the peroxide bottle in exchange for the bandage wrap, but he isn't as subtle as he thinks. She can feel his stare no matter how sneaky he attempts to be. He may be able to evade John B's attention, since he dove into the ocean to retrieve the wooden spear that began to float out in the tide, but she never misses a thing. Not when it comes to him.

When he looks at her, he finds memories.

Her legs folded up beneath her bring him back to how smooth they felt on his palms when he lifted them up around his hips. Her rosy lips pressing into a line in concentration bring him back to the coconut flavor he tasted on them. Her nipples poking against the fabric of her shirt bring him back to when he lifted it up over her breasts to suck at the sensitive skin until he got a moan from her—There isn't a place he can stare without going back to last night.

Part of him hates that.

He can't stand that a girl who he spent the last five years hating has found a way into his daydreams. Why couldn't it have been anyone else? Why did she have to lure him into her trap? He supposes there's nothing he can do about it now, though. After hours of stewing over it, he's reached the conclusion that it was likely a one-time thing, a mistake made in the heat of the moment that she won't make again, and he should get the idea of it out of his head.

When she has to adjust her grip to hold the gauze in place while she wraps the bandage around his leg, he sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth and jerks away again. She glances up at him with her best, "Are you kidding me?" face. Didn't he say he was tough?

"I'm starting to think you're a sadist, 'cause it's like you're trying to make it hurt," he says.

She gasps, feigning offense.

"Me? Enjoying this? It's not like we've hated each other for years or anything."

And though he may not realize it, this is her way of distracting him from the pain of having her apply added pressure to his cut while she wraps the bandage into place. It has to be tight enough to keep water and sand out, but not so tight that it cuts off circulation, and while it may have been tolerable without her touching it, the contact is enough to make it worse for him.

He asks, "Uh, speaking of, why are you the one doing this? Isn't it some kind of HIPAA thing to treat patients you've threatened to violate with tree branches before?"

The sound of her laughter makes his stomach flutter with butterflies, and he wonders what the hell is wrong with him.

"That's not what HIPAA is, genius"—her eyes crinkle at the sides with her wide smile while she wraps his leg—"and I'm the one doing this because I know way more medical shit than the rest of you."

Even Pope.

"Ohhh right, I forgot. Your dad is this hotshot surgeon and that makes you think you know everything," he taunts.

The casual mention of her father makes her chest ache with something not many of the Pogues, excluding Pope, have felt since being stranded on this island. With their parents either disowning them, absent, abusive, or dead, they have no reason to resist the allure of living here for the months or years it may take to be rescued, but she does.

She misses him.

For the longest time since her mom died, it was her and her dad versus the world. In everything they did, they did it together, and before she met Sarah, he was the closest she had to a best friend. Since they had no other family to help watch her as a child, she grew up in the hospital with him, drawing with crayons on his office’s printer paper with her babysitter and picking up small things along the way from watching him for so long.

He could've chosen to leave her at home, sure, but he didn't want to miss out on seeing her more than he already did, so she spent the majority of her childhood in offices, waiting rooms, and the indoor playground of the PEDs wing.

She takes a deep breath to steady herself after the sucker punch of being reminded of her dad and says, "Well, I know enough and, thankfully for you, I'm the one doing this instead of John B."

From far away, twenty or so feet offshore where their friend is paddling through the water with the lost spear held in one hand, they hear John B shouting an offended, "I heard that!" back at her. It draws a soft chuckle from them both, and she silently thanks him for distracting JJ one last time as she finishes and secures the bandage so it won't unravel.

She wipes her hands off on her water-soaked thighs one more time to get as much of his blood off of her fingers as possible before she reaches out with both arms extended to offer him help to stand. He takes them with a murmured, "Thanks," as they both try not to show how affected they are by the casual touch.

It makes them feel pathetic that something as small as holding each other's hands makes them remember what they did and desperately wish to continue it. Her throat bobs with how she must swallow the lump in her throat at their close proximity, barely breathing now that he's standing close to her with less than a few inches between them.

For a second, they don't move away. They stay face to face, and all she can think of is how badly she wants to kiss him again. But she can't do anything yet, not when she hears someone screaming from the water.

"There's a shark!" John B screams as he paddles back faster than he's ever swam in his life, already close enough to the peninsula that they can see the terror in his eyes when they turn to look.

Surely enough, there a tip of a fin too pointed to pass off as a dolphin cutting through the surface of the water to alert them of the fish's presence, but if that weren't enough, the water is clear enough for them to see its outline.

Thankfully for him, it isn't huge. It looks about as long as he is tall, but that doesn't change the degree of danger. Just because it isn't as big as other sharks doesn't make a bite any less lethal, especially when their only form of medical attention rests on her knowledgeable yet inexperienced shoulders.

For once in his life, JJ is frozen with no clue of what to do.

He's always the man with the plan, the one who jumps into action when others choke up and sit on the sidelines, but this makes him falter. What can he do to help other than stand here and pray John B can out-swim a shark? He's helpless, and now that he's faced with the prospect of losing his best friend for a second time, he doesn't know what to do.

It was his blood in the water that must have attracted the shark, and he was so caught up in his own drama with her and the pain of his cut that he didn't consider the danger of John B jumping in to retrieve the spear he dropped. It's his fault. His best friend is about to be eaten by a shark and it's his fault—

The blurred image of her rushing past in his peripheral vision rips him from his stormy thoughts, and right when he thought it couldn't get worse, it does. Water splashes up around her body and swallows her under the surface after she leaps off the edge of the rock with the aluminum spear from the dinghy raised in her dominant arm.

"Y/N!"

Before he even realizes what he's doing, JJ is screaming out her name, screaming it like he cares, and damns the consequences to dive in after her.

While he was frozen, she sprung into action without thinking of her own life first. She knew he was close to the rock, but not close enough to swim faster than a predator designed for the conditions of the ocean. It took one glance at the spear resting to the side for her to lean down, scoop it up, and get a running start to jump out as far as humanly possible. Various joints and muscles ached from how she strained to push herself far off the rock, taking flight with nothing but their survival in mind.

She sucks in a heaving breath upon breaking the surface, but she doesn't take a second to pause with John B paddling up to her so soon.

"Go back!"

The only answer she gives him is, "Use your spear!" before she brings hers out of the water in anticipation of the grey figure bolting straight for them.

It's a stupid plan, but it's the only one she has, and if one of them is in danger, they'd all risk everything they have to protect them. After all, they're already trapped here with the threat of death every day. Is there anything more worthy of dying for than your friends?

Neither of them is necessarily trying to kill it yet either, they're trying to keep it at a safe distance or hurt it enough so it swims away from them, but she puts all of her strength into spearing the fish between the eyes anyway. Her legs kick tirelessly to keep her afloat while she and John B stab as accurately as they can, choking down a mouthful of salty ocean water from how her head sinks at the surface without the help of her arms to keep her up.

Blood stains the water with a crimson hue spreading out around their bodies—whether it's theirs or the shark's, she doesn't know—and she must keep her lips clamped shut to prevent it from spilling into her mouth, breathing solely through her nose. She can tell her legs are soon to give out on her, but then a pair of hands latch onto her body. Call her irrational or stupid, but even with the clear distinction of human hands on her waist, her mind reacts in instinctual fear.

The touch makes her jolt mid-stab and sobers her feral mind back to reality for a moment until she realizes it's a human touching her, not the shark.

It's JJ.

His arms wrap around her thighs and hoist her up out of the water as much as he can while still swimming, effectively pushing himself underwater with one last gasp for air.

The sudden shift in view has her gaze shifting around to take in the new sights with a gush of red water rushing off of her onto the splashing surface: a light grey tail whips around in the chaos, the shark's head oozes blood from the multiple puncture wounds that didn't push quite deep enough, and its jaws snap right where John B's arm is before he yanks it back.

After a fraction of a second, it clicks with her that there's no time to waste watching her friend almost get his arm chomped off while she takes in the unbelievable sight. Her slippery grip on the handle remains as firm as possible, and she raises the spear over her head with an improved accuracy she never could've had from where she previously aimed it before. All of their shots landed well enough, but with the height advantage, she won't allow herself to fuck it up this time with her friend's life hanging in the balance.

She hardly recognizes her own frantic voice shouting at him, "Spear it in the gills!"

Her hands bring the razor-sharp tip of the spear down into its head repeatedly, and she isn't sure whether it's the splashing water or tears wetting her face when she buries the weapon down into it for a final time right when John B lodges his wooden spear in its gills.

Whatever she did, it must've hit its brain, because the animal halts its thrashing. Its teeth no longer snap at her friend, nor does its tail whip around in the water as violently as it did a moment ago.

As quickly as it started, it drops off into a sickening calm that leaves the white bubbles dissolving into a puddle of bloody water surrounding the trio and the fish that dies with no small amount of guilt on her part. There was no choice but to kill it. It makes her ache on the inside, but how could she regret it if she knows it saved them? The guilt might ravage her for the upcoming days, but she can't bring herself to regret jumping in after him.

She hardly has the chance to process it before she's being pulled away by both of the boys, her view of the scene shifting drastically once more with the abrupt drop of JJ letting her down in favor of guiding her through the gentle waves. His calloused hand squeezes her arm enough to cut circulation off on their journey back.

Time rushes past her in the next thirty seconds or so it takes them to reach the peninsula again in a paranoid sprint away from where the dead fish floats. One of them, John B she thinks, tosses the aluminum spear he dislodged from the shark's head up onto the rocks and clambers his way back up on his own. The waves closer to land grow rougher than the tender current out where they killed the shark, and she grunts in pain as one sends her and JJ straight into the rocks. His body hits her back with a solid ‘thump’ and forces her to wheeze with the wind getting knocked from her lungs upon impact, nails cracking on the black rock from the desperate grip she uses in an attempt to lift herself.

Meanwhile, JJ can't seem to catch his breath either, nor can he think of anything other than her once he sees that John B isn’t injured.

As soon as he sees his friend is unmarked from the teeth of the shark after he's out of the water, he positions himself behind Y/N to help her out first. He places his hands on her backside to push her up as quickly as he can. Knowing that the carcass in the water will soon attract more sharks in the surrounding area into a feeding frenzy, he'd rather it be him than her. It's a thought that shoots by too fast for him to fully acknowledge the meaning or weight of it at a time like this.

Somehow within his adrenaline-crazed mind, he is careful not to push her onto the jagged edge that sliced his leg open earlier, then climbs after her with little space left between them.

She's coughing up saltwater onto the rocks as he scrambles over to her, eyes wild with the petrifying worry of anything bad happening to her. They scan over her arms, legs, stomach, and back, and he doesn't even realize his hands are reaching out to inspect her as frantically as she had with him when he got hurt.

His hands cup her face, petting over her dripping hair and forcing her to look up so he can see if she somehow got hit in the face. Never has his mind been so void of rational thought, and, knowing him and his impulsive tendencies, that's saying a lot. The confusion of his contradictory feelings for her muddle his mind. Worry and hatred, attraction and anger—they battle it out, but only two manage to reach him externally.

Worry and anger it is. Worry for obvious reasons. Anger because—

"What the fuck were you thinking?"

She has never heard him sound so vicious since the start of whatever odd relationship/friendship/enemy-ship they have. With his worried expression and how he checked her entire body for injury after helping her out of the water, the last thing she would've anticipated from him was anger. Especially not after she saved his best friend's life. Considering what she just did for him, she thinks he should be thanking her, not chastising her.

Behind her back, she can hear a collection of yelling voices and splashing footsteps over the water dripping from them. It can only be the rest of their friends racing up the peninsula to them, but she can't turn around.

She stares at him with utter confusion flooding her at his unexpected outburst. Speechless.

"What was I thinking?" she asks incredulously with her face still cradled between his hands, "I was saving John B's life!"

Their emotional distance and disagreement are made up for in abundance by how physically entangled they've become. It wasn't intentional. It was a result of him needing to get close enough to scour her exposed skin for any bites, but now that they're sitting so near to each other, they forget to back away.

John B is too busy to engage with them.

He's doubled over on the ground with the compulsion to vomit the contents of his stomach into the ocean, but he doesn't dare get close to the edge again after what they went through. Instead, he positions himself away from them and their approaching friends until the half-digested food is forced back through his mouth. The acidic bile scorches his throat and nostrils on the way out.

JJ doesn't have the opportunity to retort back something about her being stupid, because Pope is the first person to reach them and ask, "What the hell happened?"

The rest of the group isn't far behind. It's Kie who asks the next question, then Sarah, then Cleo. They all pop off in rapid succession before either of the three of them can answer.

"Are any of you hurt?"

"Why is he throwing up?"

"Is that a shark?"

The last question draws everyone's attention over to the half-sunken mass of fish bobbing up and down on the breaths of the sea with a wooden spear sticking straight out of its gills. Though it isn't the biggest, most intimidating shark to roam the ocean, its presence doesn't fail to make everyone who looks at it shudder with the realization of what must have happened.

John B wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and points over at her with his trembling arm outstretched.

"She killed it."

The four of them whip their heads in her direction, jaws nearly falling off their faces in disbelief, but she doesn't say anything yet. Because as soon as they feel the eyes of their friends burning into them, she and JJ realize, as though they're returning to reality from the hazy layers of a dreamscape, that they're still holding each other.

She's slumped halfway onto him from when he hauled her body closer to inspect her, so she's essentially sitting on top of him at this point. Her legs, bruised and scratched up from when the waves crested to send them crashing into the rocks, are entangled around his enough that they look back and forth between them and where his hands cup her face in surprise.

JJ doesn't know what came over him.

Now that he snaps out of it at the same time as her, both of them separating and nudging each other away until their bodies are no longer entwined, he feels his cheeks flush in embarrassment.

When he saw her leaping past him to jump into the water, his mind shut off. He wasn't thinking about himself, or the possibility of getting killed, or anything at all. He was only thinking of the danger she put herself in, then he dove in and the rest of his conscious mind faded away into pure survival instinct. Yet, even after he knew the immediate danger was gone, the adrenaline kept him on edge, desperate to get her back to land and pray none of them were hurt.

"It was trying to attack him," she rasps. Her throat is raw from the saltwater she choked on, and every word burns. "But we did it together."

She pushes herself off the ground with an exhausted sigh.

Muscles spent from the struggle in the water, her legs wobble beneath the weight of her upper body as she takes a few steps to help John B up from his position on his hands and knees. From what she heard, he has thrown up all he has left in his stomach and hasn't gagged again in a minute or so, so attempting to stand again shouldn't be too strenuous for him.

His hand is cold in her grasp from the water soaking their bodies, but it holds firmly enough for her to help him into his feet without their palms slipping apart. No patches of blood are visible on his shorts, nor are there any puncture wounds on him from the sharp teeth that snapped at his arm in the quick but vigorous fight.

They were very, very fortunate to have made it out alive, and when he looks down at her face, he feels nothing but gratitude for the girl he previously saw as nothing more than his girlfriend's best friend. They went into the water as casual acquaintances, companions of convenience and the happenstance of being forced onto this island together, but they've come out of it differently. Now, they're friends.

Now, she's a Pogue.

He smiles at her, glancing up at their friends as their questions die down at the sight of his crazy grin, and says, "That was some real Pogue shit right there, Y/N." His eyes come back to meet hers. "I think it's about time we officially make you one of us. What do you think?"

She's opening her mouth to respond when Kiara cuts her off. The rest of them are staring at the trio as if they have ten heads sprouting from their bodies for not immediately surrendering more details of their near-death encounter other than saying she killed it.

"I'm sorry, can we please rewind to the part where you got attacked by a shark first?"

"Ladies and gentlemen, can I get a drumroll please for..."

The campfire is roaring with the abundance of sticks, leaves, and branches thrown onto the pile to fuel it as she feels a strong pair of arms looping around her thighs to lift her into the expansive, star-flecked sky.

In a flash of haunting memory, she relives the moment where JJ dove into the water after her and lifted her body above the surface to give her the high ground over the shark. She relives its thrashing hunger, the water splashing on her, and the cloudy hue of blood around them that she hoped wasn't either of the boys. For a second, as the world grows taller with her new perspective, she is brought back to the sudden shift she felt then and feels her stomach drop in panic, anticipating the danger.

But then the sound of her friends laughing, as well as the surging fire and crashing waves, comes back to her and forces the frightful flashback away. Her hip fits perfectly in the curve of John B's shoulder, and she lets her head fall back in giggling laughter at how he hoists her up in the air as though she's a holy figure of worship for the Pogues to kneel to.

His voice can likely be heard across the entire island when he shouts, "The Shark Conqueror!"

The group erupts into a triumphant mixture of cheers and laughter that fills the beach, everyone celebrating in their narrow escape earlier today...everyone except JJ.

After John B divulged the gory details of what happened, from JJ's fall to her picking up the spear and jumping in to save him from the shark, they made their way back with enough conversation to last the month. They all asked questions and took peeks back at where it happened in morbid curiosity, wondering how on earth they managed to come out of the situation without a scratch.

The rest of the afternoon continued on with the same buzzing energy that can only be created from the thrill of being alive. She's felt it many times since joining Sarah's group of friends that seem to find trouble wherever they go, but she has never felt it as vehemently as she does tonight. It's a mixture of euphoria, shock, and soul-crushing guilt for having to hurt another living creature, even one that was intending to make a meal of her friend.

No matter how much she grows up or discovers more about herself as a person, feelings never stop being as frustrating as they were to her as a child. You can get better at processing and hindering explosive reactions to them, but they never simplify. She doesn't know why she feels so much at once. She doesn't know why she feels simultaneously on top of the world and thrown off the edge of a cliff, but she thinks it has to do with him.

Since they walked back to the beach and talked about what happened until the day withered into night, which led them here to the “official” ceremony of her being named a Pogue for life, JJ hasn't spoken to her once.

Suddenly, the shoe is on the other foot.

Much like how she avoided him all night last night leading into this morning, he doesn't talk to her. He tries not to look at her too from where he sits on the log of driftwood across the fire, but it's somewhat inevitable with the spectacle John B is making of her at the moment.

Painted in the warm tones of the firelight like a goddess in her own right, Y/N is impossible to look away from, and it makes him angrier than he already is. A handwoven circlet crafted from the hibiscus and hippeastrum flowers growing in the forest around their camp sits atop her head. It doesn't fall to the ground with the movement of her throwing her head back in laughter. It stays in its rightful place against the rule of gravity until her face comes back into view for him to quickly look away from.

It dampers her laughter to see him avoiding her gaze so adamantly, taking a swig of water from one of the small cups they carved from wood and turning to talk to Kie to keep himself busy. The distinct sensation of being on top of the world slips away with the feeling of his cold avoidance and John B lowering her back to the ground until her bare feet sink into the soft sand.

Before she can start sulking about it for the foreseeable future, Sarah steps up beside her.

The familiar touch of a hand on her shoulder brings her comfort amidst her confusion and hurt over the way JJ is acting, and when she turns to see a pretty face looking fondly at her, a warm smile finds her lips.

"Pogue for life?" Sarah asks.

The three words bring make her smile grow the same way it had when she was talking to JJ on the peninsula. It crinkles the skin around her eyes with its unrestrained happiness to hear them because, as much as she pretends to let JJ's comments roll off of her, tonight marks one of the first times she's felt at home with them.

That's not to say they haven't made her feel welcome in the past, they did, but this isn’t the same. This is closer, this is the type of bond that's forged in situations like these where people have no choice but to rely on each other or let their worlds collectively fall apart, and she thinks, for the first time, that she could live here with them forever if she must.

None of them know how much time has passed since they arrived here, least of all her, but it sure as hell feels like an eternity. At first, she could barely withstand the idea of living here for months with the intention of being rescued as soon as possible, but now...

She brings Sarah into an embrace tight enough to force the air from their lungs.

"Pogue for life," she echoes back with her face buried into the salt-scented tresses of dirty blonde hair cascading over her tan shoulders.

Would it be crazy of her to think that this is where they're meant to be? That they're her family and this place she has fantasized about escaping is now their home?

After all, the lush island provides everything they need to sustain themselves with the rationing, scavenging, and hunting routines they adhere themselves to. Freshwater runs down the land in a stream from a water source uphill, plenty of different edible plants grow in the forest, and there's so much left of the expansive land to explore; it's perfect. Everything here is perfect for them, calling out to them to make it their home, but there's one little problem as of right now, and he's sitting across the fire behind her back.

Sarah's arms squeeze around her shoulders once to bring her in even closer.

"Thank you for saving him," her voice is so hushed, Y/N can hardly hear it with her lips brushing the shell of her ear to whisper into it, "I'm not gonna get all mushy with you right now, but I don't know what I would've done if"—Sarah's breath hitches in her throat, and she shakes her head—"I just wanted to thank you."

When they pull apart, Y/N is looking back at her with a knowing expression, one that says everything she can't in the presence of the others, and Sarah can't help but mirror it.

It isn't long before the blonde-haired beauty is whisked away by her boyfriend to help him cook the crabs they caught closer to shore after their encounter with the shark. Not wanting to swim out or risk slipping off the rocks again with the dead fish promising to lure more predators to their area for the next week or so, they settled for hunting for shellfish and making good use of the fruits they find growing in wild abundance in the forest.

The night ticks away in swiftly passing minutes thanks to the humorous company of the people around her.

She nearly chokes on a mouthful of banana as Cleo tells a story from before she met them, when she used to live in Nassau and work jobs with Terence and Stubbs on ships. For such new additions to the group, they both fit surprisingly well with the lifelong childhood friends that sit around and banter with such ease together.

They talk, laugh, dance, and eat together, and there are moments when she feels happier than ever. There are moments exactly like when John B lifted her up and made her giggle at how their friends cheered on her behalf in indulgence of the silly "ceremony" they did, half out of boredom and half out of gratitude for what she did. But then she is reminded of the man sitting on the outskirts of the group with his features hardened into an expression of contemplation she wishes she could decode.

The night breeze feels heavenly on her perpetually overexposed skin. It blows into the fire and allows it to swell from the oxygen supply, crackling and popping embers out every so often like the spark of the zippo lighter JJ fidgets with in his restless hands. The movement attracts her wandering eyes while they should be focused on Cleo and Kie dancing around the fire with boisterous laughter while Sarah and Pope sing for them.

She keeps herself honed in on the opening and closing of the lighter under the guidance of his ring-clad fingers for the next minute or so.

They may have been pitting themselves against each other since they met, but that doesn't mean she doesn't know him well. If anything, the keen attention that her old hatred for him forced her to keep on him made her memorize everything there is to know. And she surely has picked up on the nervous habit of him playing with the lighter whenever he's thinking, whenever there's something crawling under his skin that he can't piece together.

He sits with his back to her, facing out toward the ocean so all she can see is the hand he uses to flick the lighter open and shut with. With a quick glance at the rest of their friends to see if any of them are watching or wanting to speak with her, she pushes herself up from the log and dusts her sandy palms on her shirt.

The tracks of her footsteps lead around the corner of the driftwood he rests against until her feet appear, sunken into the sand in front of him. It takes a lot of control to not allow himself to follow up the length of her body, panning up along her legs until he sees that infuriatingly tenderhearted set of eyes looking down at him.

However, he doesn't have a choice in looking when her hand outstretches in a silent invitation. His first glimpse of her in the last half-hour shows her jerking her chin in the direction of the beach curving around the bend of the island.

This morning, he probably would've taken her up on the offer. He would've done anything to get a few minutes alone with her, but now he can't see past his anger and doesn't know why. He doesn't know why it hasn't calmed yet, but, in truth, it has more to do with him than it does her idiotic yet brave decision to fight off a shark today. Trust him, it still has a lot to do with the idiotic shark thing, but the rest is lost in translation for him.

"Not in the mood," he dismisses her.

Her brows furrow and form a crease between them as she tries to find something to say but comes up with nothing. At least not until it clicks with her what he thought she was trying to do by inviting him to walk with her.

The last time they went off on their own together, it ended in an explosive encounter they have yet to erase from their minds. It's what greets them whenever they close their eyes for a second too long, existing in their wildest daydreams and fantasies whenever they have a spare moment to themselves. Hell, he can't stop thinking about it even when he's already occupied. It was the reason why he didn't catch any fish this morning before the incident that made him pissed at her in the first place. He couldn't stop thinking of her.

"Oh," she murmurs and starts to kneel down until her knees are sinking into the sand the same way she did when patching up his leg. Her eyes peek over his shoulder to ensure the others didn't hear them—"That wasn't what I meant...I was just wondering if you wanted to talk about today. It must have been a lot to process, since he's your best friend and all, and—"

JJ snaps, unable to tolerate it anymore, and stands up from his spot on the sand to move away from her.

"You don't need act all therapist with me, okay? I'm fine, and I don't need you to fix me if that's what you wanted. Today was fine. Everything's fine, so let it go."

Her mouth opens and closes like a fish with a loss for words. For the second time in the span of a minute, she is grasping blindly for something to say in the wake of him shocking her to silence. He's starting to walk past her but she doesn't let him. Her hand shoots out to stop him and holds onto his arm to turn him back despite his rudeness.

Underneath it all, her concern touches him deeply. It shouldn't trigger a reaction like this in him, so why does it? What about today set him off? He hasn't been this genuinely angry with her since before the hunt for the gold began, before she started to blend into their friend group and establish herself as one of them.

"Woah, woah, woah," she says, "I never said that. I thought that you needed someone to talk to. You know, as a friend."

Their friends start to notice their interaction tensing up now. Before, they didn't pick up on her stepping away for a second to check on him. Now, it's impossible to ignore what unfolds hardly six steps from where they watch as slyly as they can. The two of them haven't had a conversation as cold as this one in months, and what he says next takes it to a place that freezes over the connection they made last night and shatters the warm place it held in her heart.

He scoffs.

"We're not friends. If you think you gotta act different 'cause you threw yourself at me last night, don't bother. You hate me and I hate you. That's how it is."

No nicknames, jokes, or anything to act as a buffer, just cruelty. Rejection.

Though they truly were trying to pretend like they weren't paying attention, every single one of their friends stops and stares. A chorus of hushed reactions sound off from across the fire, and the faint sound of Kie muttering, "Oh shit," is the first thing to reach their ears. It's needless to say that none of them could've expected something so callous to come from him, not after what they saw when they ran up to them on the peninsula this morning.

With the way he was holding her then, doting on her and cradling her face between his hands even in the midst of his anger at what she did, they sooner expected the pair to admit they're dating than have a blowout like this.

In the delayed seconds it takes for her to realize what the fuck he just said to her, he watches her face shift from a look of concern to sadness, to flush-faced embarrassment, then finally to anger. Her teeth grind together, nostrils flaring on her inhale, and in one quick moment, she comes to a conclusion within herself.

She reaches up to rip the handmade crown of vibrant flowers off her head with flames to match the camp fire flaring up in her eyes for him. Before she can do anything, he already knows he crossed a line, if not multiple lines. It's evident in everything he sees, from the hurt look on her face to the force with which she shoves the crown into the center of his chest to send him stumbling back a few steps. Just like yesterday, except it couldn't be any more different.

"Fuck. You." She spits the words as though they're venomous, and he almost shrinks away under the intensity of her stare, “Go find somewhere else to sleep tonight, 'cause it sure as hell isn't gonna be with me."

Petals flutter out upon impact against his solid chest and float peacefully to the sand around his feet as he watches her turn on her heels and storm off toward their hut. Though, after what he did and what she said to him as a goodbye, it isn't really theirs anymore, is it? At least not for tonight, tomorrow, or the next day until he finds a way to make her hear him out for an apology.

He stands there, frozen, the entire time he watches her leave. Nothing can move him from the spot, not even Sarah knocking her shoulder against his with a pointed glare on her way past to follow her into the moonlit darkness.

He doesn't even resist the disappointed looks he gets, or the shoulder check from Sarah. This time, he deserves it. He deserves every ounce of their judgment. All she was trying to do was make sure he was okay and he was too consumed in his unreleased frustration from today to see it. And, in a way, he's still frustrated over it, but it's greatly overshadowed by the guilt seeping through him.

The shadowy shapes of the two girls disappear into the small hut further down the beach, and JJ is left with nothing to do but look down at the flower crown clutched to his chest in regret.

Tag List: @gabiatthedisco, @fangirlvoice, @black-syren, @apparrio, @particularcth, @planetdemon, @idk-ijustworkhere, @krisphann, @astrydis, @k-k0129, @zarahsloves, and @stilesflannels.