#prev i remember a post on here with that clip

[fxrmuladaydreams]

choices and livestreams (sv5) (dr3)

pornstar!seb x pornstar/camgirl!reader , pornstar!daniel x pornstar/camgirl!reader

summary: seb wants you back in his life, but have you already put him in the past?

notes: i know i said no more posts until after the holidays but i got this done early so here it is, also i felt bad leaving you with the carlos angst then saying peace out

warnings: !! CONTAINS SMUT, MINORS DNI !! masturbation (m & f), sex toys (dildos)

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Sebastian sat at his computer and watched as Daniel played with you. He brought you over the edge again and again and again, and Sebastian couldn’t even get hard. He tried to tease himself, to slowly stroke his cock up and down, when that didn’t work he tried just wrapping his hand around himself and just jerking himself off, but still nothing.

The only parts where he would feel himself twitch with interest was when you had the vibrator taped to your leg. His cock would stiffen as he watched you come undone, then immediately soften when Daniel walked back into the shot.

He groans as he rests his head on his desk. He glances back up at the screen when you scream out during your last orgasm. He feels himself stiffen as the camera moves to show all of your release leaking out of you. He could get off if he just replays this four second clip over and over.

His jaw clenches when he hears Daniel’s voice.

“You were so good for me, my good little bunny.”

His words make Sebastian want to throw his computer against a wall.

He rolls his eyes as he sees all of the likes the video has, but feels a sense of pride wash over him at some of the comments.

where is sebastian?

daniel fucks her fine, but sebastian really knew how to wreck her

this will be fine to jerk off to until we get more videos with bunny and sebastian

Sebastian glances at his phone next to him. For what must be about the twentieth time today, he thinks about texting you. You’ve gone radio silent since leaving his house last week, and he’s started to really miss having you around.

He types out a quick text, just something saying hello, and that he enjoyed your video with Daniel. He stares at it for a moment, then huffs and deletes the message. He very much did not enjoy your video with Daniel. And what kind of masochist would he be if he told you he enjoyed watching someone else fuck you?

His phone buzzing pulls his thoughts away from you. There’s a notification from the girl he had recently filmed with. It’s got a link to their mew video, and a few flirty emoji’s.

He feels his stomach churn, remembering their filming day. It didn’t come as easy as filming with you did. She was trying way too hard to please him, and he seemed out of it almost the entire time, but with some skillful editing it made a half decent video.

He swipes the notification away, and opens your messages again.

Hey, I haven’t heard from you in a bit, how is everything?

He presses send before he can overthink it, deciding that even a sliver of attention from you is enough to make up for any consequences that could come from trying to get closer to you again.

You’re with Daniel when you see the text from Seb. He’s leaning back on his couch, with you sitting between his legs, your back resting against his chest. He’s got an arm thrown over your shoulder, while his other hand draws patterns along your arm. He put on a movie for the two of you to watch, something that you really hadn’t been paying much attention to.

Daniel doesn’t want to seem nosy, but the scowl on your face is worrying, especially because you’ve been staring at your phone for the past few minutes.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, shifting slightly.

You shake your head and sigh. “Nothing.” You toss your phone to the other end of the couch and bury yourself further into Daniel’s chest.

“C’mon sweetheart, I can tell something’s bothering you.” He says.

“It’s nothing. Seb just texted me.” You tell him quietly, your eyes locked onto his tv.

“And it was a bad text?” He strokes your cheek softly.

You turn so that you’re now laying on him, chest to chest.

“He said he hasn’t heard from me in a while and wants to know how everything is.”

Daniel hums. “And how is everything? If one were to want to know.” He feins disinterest in your answer, but holds his breath waiting for a response.

You slowly start to smile. “Everything is going well, I think.”

He lets out a breath and flashes you his own grin. “Good, I’m glad.”

You spend the evening with Daniel, cuddled up on his couch. You try to focus on him, but you just keep thinking about Seb. He’s made himself within reach again, but it could end up the same way it did last time. Is risking your blossoming relationship with Daniel really worth taking that chance?

A part of you feels guilty when he asks if you want to stay the night and you turn him down. You can see the disappointment flash across his face, but he quickly hides it.

You bid him goodnight with a quick kiss on the cheek, leaving him alone as you drive back to your own home. You throw your things down on your couch and pull your phone out of your pocket as you make your way to your room.

You type out a reply to Sebastian, then set your phone face down on your desk.

I’m good, how are you? I can’t really talk right now, I’m about to film a livestream.

It’s meant to be a harmless text, but a part of you knows that you want his attention.

You change into a pretty baby pink lacy lingerie set. You set up your camera and laptop and check to make sure you’re camera ready. You start your stream and watch as your usual viewers start to join. You make a few flirty comments, telling them how much you missed them.

Sebastian doesn’t seem to join, or maybe just hasn’t read your text, so you start with your stream without him. You tease yourself through your underwear, letting out breathy moans when your fingers brush against your clit.

You pull your panties to the side and push a finger inside of yourself. It does almost nothing for you, so you push a second in as well. It’s not at all comparable to Seb or Daniel, but your viewers seem to be enjoying it from the tips they send you.

After a few minutes you pull your hand away from your cunt and reach next to you for a dildo. You’re drawn to your purple one, the length reminding you of how deep Sebastian was able to push inside you. But you spot your blue one too, the girth would stretch you out and really give your viewers a show.

You hold the blue toy in front of your camera, showing it to your audience.

i can’t wait to watch her fall apart on that dick

there’s no way she’ll be able to take that

You set the dildo up on your floor and raise yourself above it. Your eye catches a comment before you lower yourself down.

be a good bunny schatz - sebv

You flush at the comment. A new wave of arousal rushes through you as you lower yourself onto the silicone toy. It’s a struggle to take it, the head stretching you out more than you have before. The pain quickly turns into pleasure as you ease yourself lower and lower on the toy, until it’s fully sheathed inside you.

You pause as you look back up at your camera. You look wrecked already, your eyes half lidded as your mouth hangs open.

“‘S so big.” You moan.

You read another comment from your computer that makes you clench around the toy.

such a good bunny, taking that dick all the way inside you. now bounce on it sweetheart - dannyric

You bounce up and down on the dildo, moaning out as it stabs at your soft spongey spot over and over again. Tears fall from your eyes, the pleasure is too much.

“Please, please, may I cum? I want to cum so bad!” You beg.

You don’t know who you’re asking, you mind far too cloudy to be thinking straight, but your eyes search for the two usernames that send you over the edge.

cum for me bunny - sebv

you’re so pretty when you beg, you can cum now bunny - dannyric

You cry out as you reach your peak, your body losing control, and all sense of pace as you ride the toy through your orgasm.

You clench around it as tips come flooding in. You slowly lift yourself off it, whimpering at the empty feeling between your legs. The dildo is coated in your milky white release. You lift it up and lick a long stripe up the side, moaning at the taste of yourself.

You flirt a little more with your viewers, then say goodbye and end your stream.

The clean up process is lonely, you try to keep your balance as you lean against your bathroom counter, wiping up the mess between your legs. You change out of your lingerie and throw it in your laundry pile. You reach for a sweater in your closet, but pause when you see what’s before you.

Folded on one of the shelves is Seb’s sweatshirt, the one he let you use the first time you filmed with him. The grey fabric is soft between your fingers, begging to wrap you up and keep you warm.

Hanging up on the rack is Daniel’s hoodie. He insisted that you hold onto it for a while after your night at the diner. It still smells like his cologne, well his cologne and a slight smell of the diner food you shared with him.

Your heart aches as you look back and forth between the pieces of clothing. You reach out and grab a sweater of your own, refusing to make any decisions tonight.

You grab your phone from your desk to see two text notifications.

From Seb

That was a fun livestream schatz, you really know how to put on a show

From Daniel

You could’ve done your livestream at my house sweetheart, I would’ve enjoyed a live show

You leave both boys on read, and climb into your bed. You hope that tomorrow you’ll have a clearer mindset about what to do next.

[tinfoil-jones]

Gravity Falls: For Your Own Good, Ch.20

Summary: A few years after moving to Gravity Falls and having his lab built, Stanford Pines happens upon his estranged twin brother, Stanley. He mentally prepared himself to be suffocated by his brothers neediness all over again - what he wasn't prepared for was Stanley walking right past him like he didn't even notice him.

Rating: M for language, violence, and adult implications

Preface: Dialogue only, but some actions will be annotated for clarity. Cross-Posted on AO3 Here.

Believe it or not a large section of this chapter was actually one of the first things I wrote for this story, it was written out before the first chapter actually and I’ve been really excited to show it. This chapter is super long and has shifting perspectives.

This chapter also mirrors Ch.10. This is a long chapter.

First - Prev - Next

WARNING: T/W implications of past sexual assault. Implied past torture. Character death.

CH.20

“So you’re gonna show me that super off-limits study room?”

“Yes. I only ask that you keep an open mind, and please do not judge me.”

“Alright PhD, I’ll only judge you the normal amount.”

“Come inside.”

“-Woah- ahhh. You really like …Triangles, huh?”

“Stanley, you’re shaking.”

“It uh, it kinda makes me uncomfortable, not gonna to lie. Are you in a cult?”

“No. Come here, follow me to the mat in the center.”

“Okay…”

“Now, what do you think of this? Does it remind you of anything?”

“A newspaper clipping? Uh… That’s a pretty messed up car- oh, wait, yeah it does remind me of something.”

“What does it remind you of?”

“I used to have a car just like that. A red El Diablo.”

“And what happened to it?”

“...I don’t remember, actually. I’m trying to remember but it just makes my brain feel like it's on fire.”

“How did I not see this before…?”

“See what?”

“Stanley, when you were first traveling with Sanchez, were you sick at all?”

“Oh yeah, totally sick. I had this massive chest infection. Kept knocking the air mask off when I was delirious. If Rick didn’t constantly shoot me up with weird sci-fi drugs, it probably woulda killed me.”

“Don’t say things like that.”

“Where’re these questions coming from Doc?”

“I’ll explain soon, but I need to show you something else. Sit down on the floor.”

“Okay…?”

“I’m going to sit back-to-back with you. I need you to fall asleep.”

“You want me to… sleep?”

“Yes.”

“Doc, you know I got problems sleeping.”

“I doubt it will be a problem this time. I’m going to meditate, but I need you to sleep.”

“You’re not setting me up for some ritual sacrifice, right?”

“Do you trust me?”

“...”

“You don’t have to answer that. Either meditate or sleep, whichever comes first. But I’m going to meditate.”

“...Alright. But if you cut my heart out and sacrifice it to the math gods or whatever, I’m haunting you.”

(...)

“Stanley.”

“Huh? Where are we?”

“The dreamscape. Specifically, we are in your dreamscape. You could also call it the mindscape. It’s a metaphysical representation of your mind.”

“You can beam yourself into people's minds?”

“Within limitations, yes. If I were to do so when the person is awake, I could only access their surface thoughts and memories. If the person were asleep, I could go a bit deeper and see their dreams, but I wouldn’t be able to easily traverse, and some deeper, more unconscious memories can’t be accessed.”

“So… Ya brought me here? What for?”

“We can access your mind deeper. But I need your permission to do so.”

“You can un-bury all of my lost memories?”

“Yes, but I don’t want to force it. I want to help you… but I know this is painful; both not knowing, and knowing. Do you want to know your real past? Even if it meant you’d have to remember why you forgot it all in the first place?”

“...Yeah. I think- hey what’s that thing coming out of your chest? Is that a rope?”

“...Yes, how did you-”

“I think I have that same thing, hold on, lemme just-”

“You’ve never been here, how would you-.”

“See, same thing. Is it supposed to do something?”

*Ford in shock suddenly grabs at the severed ends of both ropes and tries desperately to push them back together, but the ends keep repelling each other like magnets with the same charge*

“Hey doc, I don’t think you’re gonna attach ‘em like that.”

“Why isn’t it working? It’s supposed to work. It needs to-.”

“Woah! Calm down, PhD. Aren’t we here to dig up the past?”

“Right, right. We’ll get back to that. Do I want to know why your mindscape resembles a gambling lounge?”

“I spent a lot of time in a place called Lottocron Nine before I was banned from it.”

(...)

“Have you been in my mind before?”

“...Yes, during one of your sessions with Fiddleford.”

“...What kind of session?”

“An interview.”

“Oh, thank god. So ya just… broke into my mind?”

“Stanley, I understand if you are feeling-.”

“That’s really cool.”

“...What? You’re not upset?”

“Pft, I’ve broken into houses, cars, shops, warehouses; and even the Infinetentiary, twice . A persons mind though? That’s hardcore.”

“You’re being awfully candid about your multidimensional adventures with Sanchez.”

“There’s no point in hiding it now. You learned the first time you went into my mind, didn’t ya? That's how you knew who I was talking about when I mentioned Rick.”

“You’re handling this rather well.”

“Doc, we’ve both seen some crazy shit. This dreamwalking stuff isn’t even in the top ten.”

(...)

“FORRESTER!”

“Catch you on the flipside, sucker!”

“God, I hated that guy.”

“That IRS agent… What’s his name?”

“Agent Powers, why?”

“Just putting a name to a face.”

(...)

“I don’t like remembering this.”

“Tell us where your boss is hiding, and maybe we’ll spare that ugly mug of yours.”

“You think anything you do is gonna be worse than what Jimmy will do to me if I rat her out? I’ll take my chances with your sleazy ass.”

“This ‘Jimmy’ is female?”

“Yeah. Jimmy Snakes is just a street name. Other bikers wouldn’t take her seriously if they knew from the bat she was a chick. Her real last name is Jiménez.”

“But the J is pronounced as a-”

“Yeah, but guess how everyone who doesn’t speak Spanish tries to pronounce it when they read it?”

“Tough talk, Alcatraz. But everyone's got a limit.”

*the gangster takes the lit cigarette out of his mouth and brings it closer to Stan*

“Yeah, we don’t needa see this.”

*the memory suddenly blacks out but a sizzling noise is still heard*

(...)

“Stanley, this is a pit memory. These are memories your unconscious mind has been hiding from you.”

“Do we just, ya know, jump in?”

“Yes. In a way, it is like the bottomless pit, we would fall back right where we started, or your mental defenses could forcefully-.”

“Screw that, I’m imagining stairs.”

“You can’t just imagine -”

“Violá. Stairs.”

“...”

“What? This is my mind, anything I can imagine should be possible, right?”

“It should not be this easy for you. It takes months of rigorous meditation to-.”

“Maybe it woulda been easier for you to control what's in your head if it wasn’t so far up your ass all the time.”

(...)

“I don’t remember this.”

“It’s the science fair incident I told you about.”

“This is all your fault, ya dumb machine!”

“And now you’re about to-...”

“Oh no. Oh no, no, what did I do?”

“Man, did I fuck up or what?”

“There. Alright. Good as new. Probably.”

“...Stanley. You- you didn’t ruin my machine on purpose?”

“I don’t see you anywhere, but it looks like it.”

“You only hit the table …”

“Does it matter? The results are the same.”

"Stanley, I haven't been honest with you about this incident. After this, yes we fell out, but our father overheard and-."

"And he kicked me out? Yeah, I know."

"You know?"

"Yeah... I think I always did. Just didn't wanna."

"But... I lied to you about it. I told you that you chose to leave."

"Dude. All I fuckin do is lie. I'm not feeling like being a hypocrite today."

"You're not mad at me? I turned my back on you!"

"Get in line, PhD. Rico outed me to the Aryan Brotherhood. Rick cheated on me with an Alien Hivemind. Jimmy chased me for fifty miles on the interstate on a flaming motorcycle trying to drag out my soul with bottles and chains. You got tired of my shit and told me to buzz off? Big deal!"

"I ruined your life..."

"I ruined my own life. It's kinda my thing, ya know."

(...)

“No- no. Oh, no. We can’t stay here, we need to leave.”

“This looks like the homeless shelter from Glass Shard Beach.”

“Hey- sir? Can ya help me with something?"

"Watcha need, kid?"

"I haven't been to one of these places before and its kinda-"

'Scary - no, I can't say that out loud. He'll think I'm being a baby.'

"It's kinda new to me. I heard there were phones here that don't charge ya?"

'I wanna call ma...'

"There sure is, just follow me."

"We need to leave."

"Stanley, what-?"

"We need to leave we can't stay here we need to-"

"This isn't- wait, what're ya d-? Hey!”

“Brats like you are too damn easy.”

“Back off you piece a-!”

WACK

“Why isn’t this memory blacking out, I’m trying to end it-.”

“Get offa me! Stop!”

“I don’t wanna remember this.”

“Stanley, I’m so sorry. I had no idea-.”

“Cry all you want, it won't help you.”

*the memory blacks out*

(...)

“...Do you want to talk about it?”

“ No. ”

“Okay. I won’t make you.”

“I think this pit over here is the one that… ya know, made me forget everything.”

“You are sure it’s this one?”

“There’s a giant neon sign over there that says ‘Do Not Enter: Everything is Worse’.”

“How considerate of your subconscious.”

“…I don’t think I can go any further. Go on without me.”

“Stanley-.”

“Stanford. I’m giving you permission to see that memory, whatever it is. I’m not going to kick you out of it. Just tell me what you saw after you get out, and we’ll go from there.”

“You are okay with that? Are you sure?”

“You asked me outside if I trusted ya. Here’s your answer.”

(...)

‘Moses, the fog’s getting pretty bad… can’t see shit’

‘Ain’t safe with all the curves ahead’

‘I should take a stop soon and wait for it to clear’

‘Huh? What’s up with my breaks?’

‘WHY ISN’T IT WORKING? WHY?’

‘He didn’t! That son of a-’ 

SCREECH

CRASH

Fwooosh!

‘Fuck! I gotta stay calm- I’ve gotten out of worse’

‘Ugh the smokes getting really thick-.’

‘Why isn’t the seat belt unbuckling? I don’t have a lotta time here.’

‘Where’s my strap cutter? Why isn’t it-!’

‘I’m really lightheaded…’

‘Can’t-’.

‘It’s too hot-.’

‘I’m trapped.’

‘I-I can’t breathe.’

*Stanley reaches up and pulls the picture of himself and Ford, which is on fire, off of the sun visor. It burns up into ash within his hands, which then start shaking*

"That was all I had... Now I have nothing. And I have nobody... I'm… alone."

‘I'm alone…’

‘I'm alone.’

*the memory suddenly blacks up, and then the scene changes and he’s looking at Rick Sanchez as he lies on the floor of his space cruiser. Ricks words are muffled at first*

'Where am I?'

'Who's this guy?'

'He tased me? Is this a cop?'

'Why was I in the woods?'

'Catatonic...?'

“This isn’t going anywhere. Can you tell me your name?”

'I'm alone' 

“It’s…? I... 'm alone . Wait. It’s- Stan.”

“Stan Malone huh? My name’s Rick Sanchez.”

(...)

“I do not understand… I suspected the car accident was the catalyst, but how did he escape? Did Sanchez rescue him and lie about it? What would he gain from that?”

“Nope!”

“Bill?”

“You know you can’t go anywhere without me, Fordsy.”

“Why did you wait until now to show yourself?”

“Dramatic entrance, of course!”

“...Right. Why doesn’t Stanley remember escaping his burning car?

“Because he didn’t. He died of smoke inhalation right there.”

“... What ?”

“Yeah. He died. Ironically, of suffocation. Isn’t that hilarious, Sixer? He used to suffocate you, and that ended up being the thing that killed him.”

“CIPHER! Whatever cruel joke you are trying to-.”

“Joke? I’m hurt Fordsy, I know when to be serious.”

“He didn’t die! We are in his mindscape! He’s asleep right behind me in the waking world!”

“Oh, Sixer… Your mommy was right when she said denial like this isn’t healthy.”

“STOP PLAYING THESE GAMES WITH ME BILL CIPHER.”

“Alright, alright. Here, let me give you a sneak peak of what happened between the scenes; he doesn’t remember, because it happened in his mindscape. So here’s my memory of what happened.”

“Your-?”

SNAP

(...)

“Hey there slick! Things getting too hot to handle?”

“What are you supposed to be?”

“Call me a guardian angel.” 

“Are all angels as geometric as you?”

“I took a form that would be comforting to you. I’m the symbol on the back of the money, you like money right?”

“Yeah.”

“Well there we go! I’m here to help you.”

“... Why?”

“I’m a friend of a friend. And that friend would very much hate it if you burnt to death here. Shake my hand and I can get you out.”

“What’s in it for you?”

“Like I said, friend of a friend. Just shake my hand. I’ll have temporary use of your body, and you’ll get to live.”

“I’d sooner chew up and spit out a gold chain before I fall for some Faustian bargain. No ones ever been nice to me in my entire life; there’s no reason my death would be any different. Leave me alone.”

“What about your family?”

“They won’t be surprised, there’s no way they didn’t see something like this coming. I’m surprised I lasted this long.”

“What about your brother? Your twin? You’re two halves of a whole - are you really going to leave him to live the rest of his life incomplete?”

“I’m the incomplete one, I failed by myself. But he can stand on his own.”

“Don’t you realize this will devastate him?”

“... I know it will.”

“Then why aren’t you taking this deal? Fordsy isn’t going to get over this. I know everything about him, and I’m telling you he never will. This will haunt him the rest of his natural life. The same way it would haunt you if he died.”

“If you’re such a Stanford expert, would he ever think I’d take a deathbed deal with a floating triangle in a top hat and fake eyelashes?”

“The eyelashes were a low blow. But, I’ll give it to you, slick; he does know you would never fall for flattery and trickery. But he’d also agonize why you’d give up like this.”

“There’s giving up, and there’s acceptance. Every decision I’ve ever made has led up to this. And most of them were the wrong ones. The consequences have caught up to me, and there’s nowhere to run anymore.”

“You’re choosing now of all times to accept the consequences of your actions?”

“Might as well, it’s the last chance I can.”

“You are going to die here. Stanley Romanoff Pines, if you don’t take a deal with me in the next minute you will die.”

“Guess I get one whole minute to reflect on everything huh?”

“And what would you reflect on?”

“If you’re really friends with my brother… if he ever asks about me for some reason, could you tell him that I love him?”

*a rope suddenly appears, with one end fading into Stanley’s chest. The other end appears to fade off into the distance*

“What’s this supposed to be?”

“Your twin bond with Sixer.”

“That’s a real thing, no shit?”

“Yes. It’s how I found you, actually. IQ was getting this sinking feeling of dread and didn’t know why, so I just followed it without telling him.”

“Does that mean he’ll feel it when-.”

“Yes.”

*Stanley looks at the rope before grabbing it with both hands, and pulling it in opposite directions until it’s broken into two. The end not connected to him disappears.*

“He doesn’t need to know what dying feels like.”

“...He doesn’t want you dead. He never hated you.”

“I know. But he doesn’t need to worry about supporting all of this dead weight. Ha! Get it? Dead weight! …Dead weight? It’s funny because I’m about to be dea-”

(...)

“-and he died exactly how he lived; making stupid jokes that no one but him finds funny- except for you, I can see even though you’re crying, you’re also trying really hard not to laugh .”

*Ford covers his face with his hands in grief*

“...That was a good one…”

“I waited for his heart to stop before I could take over - I can possess corpses you see, and for those fleeting minutes, he counted as one. I flexed just enough of my power to drag him out of his car - had to wait for that stuck seat belt to burn enough to rip - but all of that activity re-started his heart and brought him back, kicking me out of his body.

I had enough time to change some things - kept enough oxygen in his blood supply to prevent brain damage, deleted his fear of heights so he could climb out of the ravine, and rewired his optic nerves so he didn’t need glasses anymore - he wasn’t going to get any for himself anytime soon, he won’t need them until he gets cataracts at fifty-seven.

Anyways, that’s the real reason he was immune to that green cryptid; his worst nightmare was dying alone, and he already went through that.”

“...Why didn’t you tell me any of this?”

“You didn’t ask. Not me. Not anyone. Not even yourself.”

“...”

“You always pushed your thoughts of him into the corner of your mind, Sixer. In your journals, any mention of him you’d cross out or write in a code. I saved him because I know you care about him. I didn’t tell you what happened because you wanted him out of sight, and out of mind.”

“Bill!”

“It’s true, isn’t it? And look at that, he still made his way back to you. Either that twin bond was magnetically pulling him towards its broken half, or I left just enough of an impression on his mind that the weirdness of Gravity Falls drew him here.”

“You left an impression on my brothers mind?”

“It’s like when you crinkle paper, Sixer. You can try to smooth it out all you want, but there’s still going to be traces that something happened. There’s not pieces of me left in his mind, if that’s what you’re worried about. He didn’t make a deal with me, unlike you. He just picked up some of my tendencies. Definitely explains why he uses nicknames so much, doesn’t it?”

“This is my nightmare.”

“This is the dreamscape.”

“...Why did you repress his memories?”

“You think I did that? Sixer, he died . You don’t come back from that the same way you were before.”

“Then why would he still remember most of the last ten years of his life, but not being kicked out or his entire life before that?”

“Fordsy, you heard his last conscious thoughts, and those became a self-fulfilling prophecy. Before he passed out and then away, all he could focus on was how alone he felt. His brain did that thing all human brains tend to do; hid all the stuff that would hurt him more.”

“...No, he wouldn’t-.”

“Sixer. I know you can see the truth, you can’t hide your thoughts from me; why bother remembering himself, why bother remembering loving people when they didn’t bother to remember him, not even when he needed them the most?”

“...”

“Oh, goody, now you’re crying! Don’t worry, I know exactly what to do in situations like this. I don’t care if you don’t understand the reference, you’re not the one who’s supposed to.��

*Bill conjures up and then starts playing the Nightmare Realms smallest violin*

To be continued…

[mimaveil]

I Know Your Dad and He Wouldn't Mind (XI)

Governing Concept: can’t an up-and-coming actor send nudes to his onscreen dad, torrid, get dumped, and not learn his lesson post-pandemic? gosh. normie pocket dimension of ask for a key, or the comedy-of-marriage-minded sequel to sex, or a bag of rocks (i, ii, iii, iv, v, vi, vii)

prev: do you have anything that smells like old dick (warm bulb), so are you courting me or (morel map), do you want to suck a dick or do you want to solve a puzzle (sydney rock pool), don’t look a gift whore in the eye (terror & magnificence), you mean i just blew some random guy (fathom v), calculate the area under the cock (lignum vitae), the crap has a coherence (moth), hell is a deletion (pyroclasm), that jilted shit (tonnerre), SADNESS bruh (snow on fire)

chapter summary: impossible (with the candlestick)

cw: 2k of owen pov

dedicated to @getlouder, the high priestess of the genre

Ben doesn’t return his text message. 

It’s fine. One, two, three days’ worth of unresponsiveness isn’t going to unravel Owen. From that first sunnyside splint on set, permission to approach, he’s been spooling out an impossible, ambient love for, oh, most of a decade. With every misadventure, that 15-denier desire’s bulked to 70d ripstop, 420d pack cloth, 1680d ballistic.   

Catch shrapnel. He busies himself with reading, running, helping his mother with her end-of-year inventory cull: handbags, dresses, jewelry. They use soft, lint-free cloths to clean the art frames, 24 in total. In the evenings, she tests the cocktail techniques she’s wheedled from the bartender at the local Mediterranean restaurant. One recipe of her own furnishing is grape leaf-infused vodka, gin mare, dry and blanched vermouth, verjus and saline, squirted out a pipette. It tastes like a pinch, from his tongue to his belly. 

The morning he leaves, his dad makes him comfort food from the Fuchsia Dunlop cookbook: gooey oyster omelette, precision-sliced silken tofu topped with century-egg hollandaise and pork lard fried to a yarn-fuzz crunch. In the formal dining table, under the eight-tier chandelier, the three of them drink chrysanthemum tea from a glass steeping-pot. 

In the guts of his washed-blue backpack, his mother zips her triple-strand necklace in a velvet pouch. “The rubies look fetching on you, very Angela Carter,” pressing a crisp kiss to his cheek, cardamom, at the garage door. Suave, spiced: “It’s a costume piece, so try not to pawn it for drugs.” 

He and his dad bundle into his mother’s shimmer-plum Cayenne (“may as well up the mileage”) for the 16-minute drive to TPA. The clip-on diffuser blows freesia and Fruity Pebbles into their hair. 

The zip-line of storefronts as they skirt the country-club greens and merge onto the 60 E: Orthodontist, ophthalmologist, air-duct cleaner, flooring, bike shop, permanent-makeup salon, credit union, seafood grill, smokehouse BBQ, smokehouse vape, personal-injury attorney, David’s Bridal, Panera. 

“Why do people get married?” His question bounces on the truffle-brown leather. 

“You asked the same question when you were six, on our way to the museum” scratching at an upturned cuff, heathered eggplant. “Your mom answered, ‘When you love someone and you want to do a group project with them for the rest of your life.’” 

I only remember the sex explanation, Owen thinks, scrunching at his wide tapered jeans. He’s wearing his Christmas present, a color-blocked anorak of nylon faille, upcycled from fishing nets. Elbow up, he projects a pose of ruffled lightness, freesia. “I hope I’m not the group project.”

“Yes and no,” his father smiles in profile, left hand steering, right propped on thigh. Got his nose broken, reset, from some college sport—Owen can’t remember which. “We wanted to witness a whole person happening, and here you are.” 

As the airport swings into view, the glove compartment spits out more cash in an envelope (“for the taxi; promise you’ll treat yourself to a nice direct ride instead of the three-hour rigamarole by bus”).

The emotion unpeels him. Sweet, glacé, to stay. Dishonest, too. Owen squeezes off a nod as he slides out the passenger door, hefts the Patagonia in one showy swing onto his right shoulder. As the plummy Cayenne-barge unmoors, his wave from the curb is effulgent—full-mast—

—

At the gate, no text from Ben. On the five-hour flight, he rereads the letter in between fitful dozing. Maybe he should attempt a response in kind; balancing a hi-vis Field Notes in Expedition Orange on the foldout table, carpenter pencil in the crease, he stares despairingly at the Yupo tearproof, waterproof paper.

Nursing stale air, there must be some proof of durability here. A test of his own character’s visibility, tensile strength and resistance to—ballistics. Compression. Electromagnetic waves. Water, wind, acid, flame.

Two-column proof, as he suckles at a mini-water bottle: Ben has his money-words, Owen has his body. It’s a fair trade that cheapens them both. To a leading zero, they’d fought—parted bloody—about the lying. If he accepts Ben’s premise, that every wild swing in the letter is factual for him, isn’t that. Enabling?

And if he doesn’t accept the truth of Ben’s words. That’s cowardice.

Owen’s realizing with appalling slowness, that he can’t—art was not meant to be lived in a dingy manner. John had wanted him to be vat-grown, an indestructible extrusion of polypropylene pellets. 

His parents had debated, mildly, that Wendell  Berry profile in the New Yorker. Marriage as a state of mutual help, not—two chilly careerists in the same bed, the revulsion of returning with his gift rubies and gift anorak to that grifter apartment, forcing himself into the Avalon for errands, writing down the beginning and ending mileage in pencil so they could split—god, what’s that Sun Tzu stratagem, if you wait by the river long enough, the bodies of your lovers will float by, no, that’s not right… 

Carpenter pencil pocketed, he sleeps and drops into

If you’ve read all this with a busk to the chest, waiting for a soppy revelation, stay queued. “I love you,” in a mid-career marriage, can mean “take out the trash” or “I’m bored” or “you’re boring” or “I’m scared.” Demands the full register, in person. Not fit for print. There’s your ostrich feathers. 

You’re going to pardon my condescension, as a steward of your future self. Some praise, and free-handed advice: 

Don’t think it’s your calling to count nipples in a darkened room. With this rig-up, you can win if you display all your skill. It’s a necessary, not sufficient, condition. You’ve got all the components: fast thinking, great nerve, a sensitivity to other people’s debility and an equal appetite for causing a ruckus. Under that dippy eco-politesse and fussy styling, a dissonant intelligence you take pains to bury, yet. 

In this one regard (okay two because should you, show for another round, we could stand to work on your tempo), your ex-stab’s right: you could do with increasing your tolerance for suffering. Won’t dent your base model of goodness, believe me, ‘scuse the bleed of envy. You have to take all of it for truth, this confessional. Even the stuff that tastes terrible. And yet.

You can’t live on premeditation, mate. There’s no reason that right now can’t also be everything you want, too. 

—

With his parents’ cash, Owen takes a taxi from the airport to a Gelsons on Mulholland. Clips his refilled water bottle to his backpack, buys a ginger-turmeric immunity boost, mixes the shot with a 15.2-oz beetroot cold-press in the parking lot. 

Starts to rain, 8 minutes into the hour-long, 2.4-mile hike. The recycled-poly airmesh makes a spongey skkrt noise against his shoulders, back. At the speed of the soul, ground level, the ancestral road—Paul Revere, really—is house-house-house-house-house-house, their Quinacridone burnt orange hats, their pivot aluminum maws, their touched-up shrubs and pools that look like organs, flaccid, in aerial. 

Sweating into the performance-mesh back panel, his resolve bubbles and peels. His anorak’s soaked to a viridian; the hood, noisy, blinkers his view. 

Beetroot sluiced, federalism dispensed, right on Wrencrest, Old Topanga Canyon Road, Valmar, Park… His Onitsuka Tiger Tokutens, in crystal pink and cream, muddy with effort. 

At the end of his gaunt, monkish tread, the red house rises to meet him, parched front lawn, milk-chocolate-bar sectional garage door, meek brick walkway. Among the sentry Indian Laurel, under the covered entry, he sees a loopy chalk heart with inscribed instructions, not yet rain-scrubbed, on the front step: “Kiss here.” 

Ingress is an oak-steel hybrid, vertical pane of frosted glass set in aluminum, to the right. Owen stands on the kiss-here chalk and rings the doorbell.

No response.

The privacy glass runs Owen’s height. Door’s locked, naturally. He thunks his pack to his chapped feet and knocks. 

Silence.

He reapplies his matcha-moss lip-cream, dimly aware of the industrious patter at his back, the sanguine pomegranate rain, the fwoosh of cars on desultory errands in the last week of the year. Raises his hand to knock again, sighs into a full-body sag against the door, his forehead against the wood. Up close, the grain’s vertical, the rubbery overtone of a robusta bean. 

Thus swollen, rotten, warped, Owen feels the curiously spiraling sensation of someone on the other side of the door, forehead also pressed, wrist, palm, knees, joined in a mutual trembling, a faint wave through the wood. Just like those sound experiments he did as a kid, putting his head to the coffee table, eyes closed, while his father tapped the surface eight inches away with one finger, two fingers, a fist, accreting to— 

Tonnerre. He’s drifted. Seeped, Owen opens his eyes, tries the handle again.

It’s unlocked.

—— 

The muscle memory, the memory-memory, of knocking on wood persists in his skull as he removes his wet shoes in the foyer, sets down his pack. Lets out a tenebrous “hello.”

The headache breeds as he turns right, peers into the empty kitchen, the unused dining room. A water pitcher’s out on the counter; food scissors, a milk frother, an ash-wood utility knife sheath fully dried on a purple chevron towel. 

Hard to say if the living room’s changed. Maybe few more hostile sculptures since. Through the sliding glass, the pool is covered. All three couch surfaces without indent. Nothing as obvious as crypt-dust, but the general effect, Owen’s anorak dribbling on the cherry syrup tile, is the matte fortitude of a house left alone. 

Beet juice recoils in his stomach. But someone had let him in. 

He checks up on his canvas rucksack in the foyer. Still there, solid. Unzippable. Resisting the urge to lick the raindrops from his palm, Owen glugs the last of his immunity blood-juice. Squats to fish out his phone, send an apologetic text for the intrusion, look up bus schedules.

Hears deft, firm footsteps behind him.

Owen’s out the door in a jolt, in his socks, in the rain, nearly takes a tumble in the driveway. Hunched over, water blotching his hot face, he swings his head around. The neighborhood’s quiet. Just hedges and houses in the late December afternoon. 

On the sidewalk, he grips his knees. Breathe. He’ll need, he’ll need his shoes and his backpack to get home. Forces himself to stand up, quivering, walk through the ajar, robusta-wood sweep, the mocking frosted glass— 

His stuff’s gone.

The rage, panic, stripes his legs. His teeth are chattering, stupid, crickcrickcrickclackclack, fuck, fine, Ben’s got spares in his closet, he can run for it.

Main bedroom—fireplace—the prickle of fear’s a full stocking now, compressive, he’s chittering, shivering, shakes open the closet door to a familiar smell, wingtip on a warm lightbulb, holding his jaw to stop the, wingbeats of Ben’s shirts and jackets and trousers, crawling to the far wall, shoe, shoe-shoe-shoe-shoe-shoe-shoe-shoe, is this a seizure?

“Hi,” he jabbers into the rubber of a cloud cleat. Feels hands lifting him up. “Are you. Are you the.” 

Are you The Guest.

[weareapackofstrays]

A New Kind of Love: Chapter IV

Genre: Non-Idol college au, slight enemies to lovers (more like they annoy e/o at the start), friends with benefits, smut, angst, romance, drama

Pairing: Minho x F!Reader

Warnings: Drinking, Sex, Mentions of Weed, Slapping/Hair pulling during a fight, Cussing. Let me know if I forgot anything! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Word Count: 5,564

Summary: Now in your second year of college, you move into the basement apartment of a house full of college boys. Inevitably crossing paths with one of them, Minho quickly gets under your skin in more ways than one. Despite your differences, you can't stay away from him.

A/N: I include some of the dialogue from the movie, The Princess Bride. Not sure what the method is to cite in a fic, but please understand that the intention is not to steal, just to quote. I struggled to get through this chapter, but I hope you like it. Always open to feedback!

Chapter IV: As You Wish Prev | Next

“Let’s just keep this between us.” Minho blinks, still trying to catch his breath. “Where did I put it?” You mumble to yourself as you look around for something. Minho sits up in your bed and spots your robe beside him. He holds it up to get your attention. “Yes! Thank you.” He throws it your way. Wrapping the robe around your chilled body, you continue, “I just don’t want a million questions from everyone.”  

Minho stands now, brows furrowed, considering your words. “What kind of questions do you think people are going to ask?” He pulls on his briefs and you hand him his jeans. “Thanks…”

“I don’t know, like, what our relationship status is or something.” You look in your mirror and wince at the state of your post-coital hair. You try to brush through it with your fingers to tame it, but give up and throw a clip in it.

Minho comes up behind wrapping his arms around you. “And what do you think it is?” He buries his face in your neck. 

Trying to ignore the butterflies fluttering in your belly, you gently take hold of his arms and turn into his embrace to face him. “Sex. It’s just sex.” Minho can’t help the sting that hits him square in the chest, but does his best not to show it in his face. 

Minho bites the inside of his cheek before speaking. “Y/n, I don’t think anyone is going to care about what we get up to.” Minho tucks a stray hair behind your ear. Your concern amuses him. He looks down at your pretty face while you search his eyes. 

“And let's keep it that way.” You wrap your arms around his neck and nudge his nose with yours. “Please?” Minho sighs, but nods his head. You smile victoriously, pleased by his obedience. After giving him a chaste kiss on his pouting lips, he releases himself from your arms to finish getting dressed. 

-

Minho recalls your conversation after that evening he showed up at your doorstep. Sex. It’s just sex. Minho often has to remind himself of this whenever he watches you get dressed after a recent romp together. Like right now, for example. It was always the same with you two. You’d bicker, flirt, end up in bed (or couch, or car, or a dark corner of campus…no surface was safe) and as soon as the two of you finished you would be up and eager to leave. You never invited him to stay over and he didn’t want to ask in case it scared you away, but he was fatigued. It had been a few months of this now and something was going to have to give soon. You rouse Minho from his thoughts when you toss his shirt into his lap.

“Come on, you have to get going.” Minho stays put and crosses his arms. You grab hold of him and try to pull him up, but Minho pulls you on top of him instead. Oomph. You look at his pleased smile and roll your eyes. “Enough, seriously, Yuqi and Momo will be here soon.”

“So what?” He kisses your lips. 

“So,” You try to speak between pecks. “We agreed,” Smooch. “Remember?” Smooch. Smooch. “Keeping this,” you motion at the two of you, “between us.” Smoo-. That ruins the mood for Minho and he disconnects his lips from your mouth. He’s sick and tired of being your secret. 

Groaning, he pushes you off of him, not too gently, and gets up. “Fine.” You’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little offended by his gruff reproach. He throws his clothes on quickly and heads for your door with you following closely behind him.

“You’re coming over tonight for movie night though, right?” he asks, standing in your doorway.

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll be there.”

“Yuqi is coming?”

“Mhmm, and Momo.”

“Right, I forgot her and Chris were hooking up.” “Yup.” That hurts Minho a little. Why is their relationship okay to be out in the open? He pushes the thought away and puts on his best smile. 

“See you then, princess.” He slaps your ass quickly before walking out the door. You giggle as you wave him off. 

Once Minho is back in his room, he throws himself onto his bed and rubs his face out of frustration. Just sex. Minho didn’t mean for this to happen. He just wanted to be close to you and then suddenly it turned into a sort of friends with benefits situation. Only, were you even friends to begin with? Minho wasn’t one for commitment and most of his situationships ended fairly quickly when they wanted more from him. But with you, he couldn’t help but envision more. You were invading his mind and he couldn’t keep himself nor his hands away from you. If he was being honest with himself, he was starting to worry about getting in too deep. Minho knew he liked you, but he was unsure of how you truly felt about him. Did you feel the same? Honestly, he didn’t think so. 

Later that night, you and your friends join the boys upstairs. While the group decide over what movie to select, you escape into the kitchen for refreshments. You grab a bottle of water from the fridge and uncap it. Minho walks in and gives you an aggressive peck to your cheek, nearly spilling the water from your lips.

“Hey!” You smack his arm in jest and he laughs. 

“Sorry.” He pulls you into his arms and places his lips on your forehead. Your body stiffens, but your hands tentatively take hold of him. He senses your anxiety. 

“They’re busy arguing over what movie to watch. Nobody cares where we are right now. Listen.” Minho points his head in the direction of the living room and you follow. You can hear Yuqi in the midst of a heated debate with Seungmin over The Godfather being too long of a movie to choose. You bury your face in Minho’s chest and giggle. He takes hold of your chin and presses his lips to yours.

-

“The Godfather is the greatest movie ever made! Literally everyone says so.” Seungmin tries to defend his choice. Yuqi plants her hands on her hips defiantly. The rest of the room watches their exchange.

Momo leans into Chris’s side, “Just so you know, Yuqi never backs down from a fight.” Chris looks over at Yuqi then back to Seungmin sensing the tension growing.

Yuqi points a finger into Seungmin’s chest, “The Godfather is hardly the greatest movie ever made. If you had said Casablanca I would have forgiven you.” 

Seungmin’s eyes widen. He looks around the room for someone to join his side. “Jisung, help me out, man!” 

Jisung shakes his head. “You’re on your own with this one, bud.”

Yuqi blows Jisung a kiss then faces Seungmin again. “It’s too violent and too long. Period. We’re picking something else.” Chris finally attempts to break things up, but pulls Jisung in to grab hold of Yuqi who is now trying to take off her shoe to throw at Seungmin’s head. While everyone is distracted, Jeongin secretly puts Detective Pikachu onto the screen. 

Changbin finally notices and groans. “Oh, not this one again!” The room finally unites as one to retaliate against Jeongin who is doing his best to hide the remote behind him. 

-

Back in the kitchen, you and Minho are entwined in a passionate kiss. The commotion in the living room is long forgotten. He pushes you into the refrigerator and pushes his tongue into your mouth eagerly. You can feel him getting hard between your legs so you pull away to get some air. 

“Hey, don’t get too excited, buddy.” You cock your eyebrow at him. 

He chuckles and places kisses down your jawline. “Sorry, you’re right.” He takes a step back to try to calm himself. His eyes sweep over your form briefly. “You look really pretty, by the way.” 

“Minho…” His compliment disarms you.

“What? Are compliments off the table too?” He smiles and leans his back against the counter. You look away from him trying to hide your shy smile. 

“Wanna go upstairs?” You laugh at his sudden bold question.

“No! If the two of us sneak upstairs everyone is going to know.”

“So?” You give him a pointed look begging him to see reason. He shakes his head and laughs.

“Come over here.” Minho beckons you over and you give in. He captures your lips with his again and you fist his hair to bring him closer to you. He slides his hand under your shirt to feel your warm skin. Saying no to him was becoming harder and harder to do. His kisses move to your jaw and up to your ear where he whispers, “So beautiful.” You feel your heartbeat quicken. He moves back to your lips and attempts to corner you, but you're interrupted by your friends shouting after you, signaling a compromise on the movie choice. You reluctantly pull away from Minho’s arms and take hold of his hand.

“Let’s go.” He groans, but follows after you. Your friends settle on The Princess Bride. Even Seungmin couldn’t find a qualm with this one. Minho wouldn’t say it out loud, but he loves this movie and you hated to admit that you do too. 

-

The room is dark and quiet as all eyes are glued to the bright tv screen. The grandfather begins to tell the story of The Princess Bride to his grandson. You turn your attention to the screen after looking around at your friends.

“Nothing gave Buttercup as much pleasure as ordering Westley around.” “Farm boy, polish my horse’s saddle. I want to see my face shining in it by morning. “As you wish.” “As you wish was all he ever said her." “Farm boy, fill these with water…please.” “As you wish.”

Changbin throws popcorn at the screen and shouts, “Just tell him you love him!” Everyone groans and shushes the large man in unison. You try to stifle a giggle. 

“That day she was amazed to discover that when he was saying ‘As you wish,' what he meant was 'I love you.’ And even more amazing was the day she realized she truly loved him back.”

Your eyes wander over to look at Minho. His big brown eyes are completely engrossed in the movie. You miss his warmth already and wish the two of you could sit next to each other. 

“Farm boy…fetch me that pitcher.” “As you wish.”

Just then, you watch as Minho mouths As you wish as Westley speaks his line. He looks so young and innocent. It makes your heart tighten in your chest. Minho senses your gaze and meets it. He smiles at you and you smile back. You thought you were doing well keeping things under wraps, but Yuqi and Jisung catch the two of you looking at each other fondly during the romantic scene. They exchange a knowing glance. 

Chris pauses the movie when Jisung gets up to use the restroom and some of the boys and Momo walk into the kitchen to refill on snacks and drinks. The rest of the room breaks into chatty conversation so Yuqi uses the opportunity to talk to you. She plops down next to you distracting you from your phone. 

“How long?” she asks abruptly.

“Huh?” you look up at your friend, confused. 

“Don’t play dumb. You and Minho have been throwing heart eyes at each other all night. So how long have you two been hooking up?” She angrily whispers. You look over at Minho, who is talking to Seungmin, then into your friend's eyes. You consider lying, but can tell she is hurt you never told her. You quickly confess out of guilt. 

“So you like him?” she asks excitedly.

“Well, it’s more of an arrangement.”

“Oh.” Yuqi doesn’t hide the disappointment in her tone.

“Friends with benefits, I guess.” 

“And he's…okay with that?” Yuqi asks doubtfully. Everyone and their mother could tell Minho had feelings for you even if he thought he was hiding it well. Yuqi and Jisung assumed it was only a matter of time before you two started dating, but you never did. 

“Yeah, why wouldn't he be?” You say a little too casually. Even Yuqi isn’t convinced. When Jisung and the rest of the boys come back into the room, she returns to her boyfriend’s side. She can’t help the feeling of unease that washes over her. Once the movie is back on, Yuqi watches as you pull out your phone again and look over at Minho. You send him a text. 

“Meet me at my place after the movie?”

Minho’s face lights up as he reads your message. Knowing you're watching him, he nods his head. You both put your phones away smiling. Jisung and Yuqi shake their heads at their dumb friends.

-

The end of Spring semester was fast approaching and you could feel the stress taking over. You hadn’t spent much time with Minho the past week because you wanted to focus more on studying and he respected that. Instead of going out with your friends, you decide it would be better to stay in for once on a Friday night. You try to turn in early, but find the commotion upstairs too loud. Your room is vibrating from the bass and you wonder what is going on above you. You climb out of bed and head out the door to inspect. 

You don’t bother knocking and walk into the house. A crowd of people are walking through with drinks in hand and you see Hyunjin in the distance DJing. Yup, a party. As you make your way through the house you run into Jisung.

“Y/n! You came!” He is drunk and smells faintly of weed. He throws his arms around you. Jisung pulls you back and surveys your clothes, making a face. “Why are you dressed like that?”

You remove his hands from your shoulders and hold them. “I didn’t know you were having a party actually. Came up here…well, I don’t know why. I guess to see what the noise was about.”

“Shit, were you sleeping?” Jisung’s boba eyes widen in concern. 

“Attempting to.”

“I am so sorry. I genuinely thought you knew.”

You shake your head and smile at him reassuringly. “It’s fine,” Jisung sighs in relief. “Is Minho here?” You ask, looking around the room.

Jisung smirks. “Oh, I’m sure he’s around. Maybe check upstairs.” He points his head in the direction of the staircase.

“Why is he upstairs?”

Jisung shrugs. “Dunno, he’s been holed up in his room all day actually.” You immediately wonder if something is wrong. 

When you reach the top of the stairs you realize you have never been up here before, let alone in Minho’s room. You remember he said the front right room was his and you try to figure out the layout from there. When you determine the correct door, you lightly knock. No answer. You knock again. 

“Jisung, I told you I’m not in the mood.” Minho shouts from behind the door.

“It’s not Jisung.” You hear movement inside before the door suddenly swings open. A surprised Minho stares back at you.

“Y/n? What are you-” You step underneath Minho’s arm and help yourself inside. He turns around and shuts the door behind you. You look around his room and are surprised by how tidy it is. 

“So this is where he sleeps.” He looks around with you before giving a nod. You finally turn around and face him. “Jisung seemed surprised I wasn’t aware of the party.”

Minho smacks a palm to his head. “Shit, Y/n, I’m so sorry. I was supposed to invite you. I totally spaced.” 

You put up a hand to stop him. “It’s okay.” 

Minho looks over your appearance and smirks. “I take it the ruckus woke you up.” You walk over to his bed and take a seat.

“Something like that.” You pat the space beside you. He stands in place with his arms crossed, considering your invitation. Minho finally saunters over and sits beside you. He stares ahead at something in the distance. He seems off and you can’t place why. You nudge him with your shoulder breaking his trance. He looks at you.

“Everything alright?” you ask.

He nods and simply responds with “Mhmm.”

“That was convincing.” You roll your eyes. "Look, despite our…situation, I hope you know you can talk to me. I have two ears.” You move your head to meet his eyes. 

He smiles weakly. “It’s nothing.” 

You push the furrow in his brow to smooth it out. “Doesn't seem like it's nothing.”

He exhales. “Just have a lot on my mind. School stuff and what not.”

“Did something happen at school?”

“It’s probably just the upcoming finals,” he lies. “And there is some choreography I am struggling to land.” A half truth.

“Oh?” You knew Minho was a dance major, but you realize you’ve never actually seen him perform. 

“It’s nothing that challenging, I don’t even know why I’m having a hard time. I’m not normally like this, but things have just been…there is just a lot on my mind.” 

You get up from the bed and straddle Minho’s thighs. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and gently tangle his dark brown locks in your fingers. “Maybe I can help take things off your mind?” He meets your gaze and softens. Little did you know, you were why he’s been so distracted lately, but he was too weak to say. He brushes his nose against yours and melts into your hold. Your lips meet. Minho pulls your body with him as he props himself up against the headboard. You take your shirt off and then his. He places soft kisses across your clavicle and you shudder. His hands knead your ass while you begin to grind against his growing bulge. 

“I need you, Minho.” He groans and feels a tug at his heart strings. Minho knows the more he gives in, the more pain this will cause him. You reach your hands into his sweats and release his hardened cock. Minho lifts you off of him to help you remove your bottoms. Once naked, you align your entrance with his tip and seat yourself on him, gasping loudly as he fills you. You missed this. Missed him. But you wouldn’t say that out loud. Minho grabs your hips and starts to smack into you at an unforgiving pace, taking his stress and frustrations out on you. And you are happy to let him. 

-

As the two of you come down from your high, you start to pull your clothes back on and Minho assumes you are going to leave him as you usually do. But as he observes you, he notices something is different. You seem really happy. 

“I'm hungry. Wanna get something to eat?” Your question takes Minho by surprise. 

After taking a moment to register your question, he finally asks, “Is anything even open?”

“Hmm…good point. McDonald’s probably?”

Minho grips his chin to ponder the limited options. “Eh, fuck it. Let's go.”

“I just need to change into something that is not…this.” You look down at your clothes and he laughs at you. 

“I think you look sexy. Want me to meet you outside?” 

You shake your head, “No, just come with me.” 

“Okay.” The two of you walk downstairs and into the living room filled with partygoers. Minho takes hold of your waist guiding you through the crowd to leave. Felix stops the two of you to say hello.

“Hey, Y/n!”

“Hello, my sunshine.” You bring Felix in for a hug. 

Felix looks between the two of you and then at your attire. “Are you two leaving?” he says. His eyes are still on your pajama shorts. An amused grin spreads across his face.

“Yeah, we’re going to get something to eat.” He looks up at you and wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. Before you can scold him, you’re both interrupted by a familiar voice.

“Felix!” He turns in the direction of the disembodied voice.

“Oh, hey, Daniel!” Daniel?

Felix moves aside and in front of you stands your ex. The two of you look at each other wide eyed. 

“Y-Y/n?” Minho notices the shift in your demeanor. Felix senses something is amiss as well.

“Daniel…what are you, wait are you two friends?” You look at Felix then back at Daniel. Felix blinks unsure of how to answer. Daniel answers for him.

“Yeah, I know most of these guys.” He looks over your shoulder at Minho and nods, “Hey, Minho.”

“Hey…” Minho nods back at him while looking at you nervously for your reaction. You look at Minho feeling completely wounded. 

Felix is afraid to ask, but can’t help himself. “How do you two know each other?”

You scoff and place a hand on your hip. “Funny story that,” you say with disdain.

“Y/n, don’t.” Daniel warns.

“Daniel, did I hear you say Y/n’s name?” Rebecca, Bex as you call her, appears from the crowd and you feel your blood go cold. She links her arm with Daniel who you notice has gone rigid. Bex meets your eyes and greets you. “Hello, Y/n.”

“Bex.” You say a little too harshly.

She takes in the sight of you and giggles, “What are you wearing?"

You look down forgetting you’re still in your pajamas and internally curse. Of course they would find you looking like this. She smiles smugly. “What a fun surprise running into you.”

“Fun is not the word I would use.” 

Bex notices Minho standing closely behind you. “And who is this?” She looks him up and down. Her red lips form into a suggestive pout. Minho might not be yours officially, but you were prepared to fight for him if it meant keeping him away from your ex-best friend’s claws. She always wanted what you had. How could you not see through her before? You try to take a step forward, but feel Minho place a gentle hand on your arm to keep you in place. Bex’s lips form into a wicked smile. 

“It really is so good to see you, Y/n. It’s been too long. Isn’t that right, Daniel?” She gently shakes Daniel’s arm for a response.

“You know exactly why we don’t see each other.” You look at Daniel then back at Bex. She follows your gaze and places a hand under Daniel’s chin. 

“Are you still mad about what happened?” She feigns surprise. 

“Bex,” Daniel finally opens his mouth to diffuse things.

Bex ignores her boyfriend. “Really, you should let bygones be bygones now…”

Is she being for real? She is trying to provoke you, right? It took a long time to move past the hurt the two of them had caused you. You moved out of your shared apartment with Bex and ended up here with the boys. Things had finally become normal for you. You had moved on, hadn’t you?

“Anyways, since our parents are all friends we’re going to need to find a way past this if you want to be at our wedding next year. I was thinking of green dresses for the bridesmaids. You always looked good in green, Y/n,” She continues, as if oblivious to what she is saying. Circus music starts to play. You feel your jaw gape open in shock along with Daniel, Minho, and Felix. The air is ripped from your lungs and all you can see is red. Before your brain can stop your body, your hand reaches out and smacks Bex across the face. The bystanders around you turn towards the chaos. You can hear a few gasps and someone loudly shouts “Oh, shit!”

“What the fuck, Y/n!” Bex holds her smarted cheek. Your palm buzzes from the connection and you have to stop yourself from leaning into your pain. Your heart is rapidly beating and the booming of the crowd is starting to turn to static in your ears. The men are completely frozen in place, flabbergasted by what just happened. Jisung has now appeared by Minho’s side to see what the commotion is about. Bex suddenly launches at you grabbing hold of your hair. 

“Ouch!” You shout as you take a fistful of hers and yank too.

“You’re such a bitch, Y/n!” 

“Pot calling the kettle black, backstabber!”

“Oh, stop it. You and Daniel were losing interest in each other long before I stepped in.”

“What are you talking about? We were fine!” You let go of Bex’s hair and she cautiously removes her hands from your scalp as well. Daniel takes hold of Bex’s waist to hold her back.

“Not according to Daniel. He had been considering dumping you for a while.” You step back as if Bex had just punched you and look over at your ex. He releases Bex and meets your eyes.

“Daniel?” you ask for confirmation. He looks to the ground. Coward. Minho, Jisung, and Felix turn to face Daniel awaiting his answer along with the onlookers.

“Daniel,” you say again sternly. “Is that true?”

“Y/n…it’s complicated. You and I had been fighting. I probably just said it out of frustration.”

Bex scoffs, “Liar.”

You ignore her and continue, “And instead of talking to me you confided in her?” You point an accusing finger at Bex. 

She laughs, “He did more than confide in me.” She looks down at her manicure checking for any broken nails. Your blood boils and Minho immediately steps in before you can launch yourself at Bex again. He grabs hold of you and throws you over his shoulder. He’s really got to stop making a habit of this. Daniel places a hand back on Bex who was eagerly ready for another row. After the two of you exit stage left and are out of view, Daniel turns to Felix looking apologetic.

“Sorry, man. We’ll go.”

Felix nods his head, eyes still wide in shock. “Yeah, I think that might be best.” Jisung disappears to find his phone and reaches out to Yuqi. 

Minho takes you outside and heads for your apartment. “Put me down, Minho!” You wiggle in his grasp. He gently places you on the ground near the stairs to your front door. “What the hell was that for?”

“What do you mean? You were about to fist fight in my house.” 

Not listening to Minho, you continue to shout, “And how can you be friends with that piece of garbage?”

“Well, in my defense, I didn't know he was garbage until tonight.” You turn away from Minho and cross your arms. “Hey, the fight isn't with me, Y/n.” 

Too angry to listen to reason, you throw your hands in the air letting out an audible groan. “Fuck this. Good night, Minho.”

“Are you serious right now?” He wraps his hand around your wrist to keep you from walking away.

“What?” You try to yank your hand from his grasp, but he pulls you into his chest to hold you. “You’re mad at me for something I didn’t even know about?” He looks into your eyes and you can see the hurt in his. You don’t answer him so he releases you. “Real mature, Y/n. Good night. Call me when you get a grip.”

The anger boils within you again. “Fuck you!” 

“Fuck you too!” he shouts over his shoulder as he walks away, leaving you alone on your stoop. You feel your heart sink as he disappears around the corner. 

Minho slams the front door shut and angrily walks up the stairs. Jisung chases after him.

“Hyung, wait!” Jisung grabs hold of the older man’s arm. Minho turns to look at Jisung and his eyes widen when he notices how tired Minho looks. 

“Y/n, is she okay?” Jisung asks worriedly. 

Minho turns back around and continues up the stairs. “Not my problem,” he grumbles. Jisung puts a hand to the back of his neck and lets out a frustrated sigh. He looks down at his phone to see if Yuqi has gotten back to him, but nothing yet. 

-

A few days later you leave your art history class and find Daniel sitting outside. You stop in your tracks unsure if you should walk away before he sees you or not. Too late. He looks up and spots you.

“Y/n.” He walks up to you sheepishly. 

“What do you want?” You try to turn away.

“Can we talk?” 

“Absolutely not.”

He takes hold of your hand and you curse at yourself for the butterflies that stir in your stomach.

“Please. Just 5 minutes.” 

You sigh. “Fine.”

The two of you sit at a table. Silence falls between you while you wait for Daniel to say something. You’re growing impatient and are about to get up when he finally speaks.

“I broke up with Bex.” 

Your stomach drops and you hope your face doesn’t show how shocked you are. “Congratulations?”

“I’m sorry for how she acted at the party. And I didn’t know you would be there either.” You stare at Daniel trying to find words. 

“I figured. It’s fine,” you finally whisper out.

“It’s not.” 

“Well…thank you anyways.” You take hold of your bag and start to get up. 

“I should have come to you. I should have talked to you. I shouldn’t have…done what I did.” Daniel looks down into his lap and fiddles with the hem of his shirt.

“You’re right,” you nod in agreement.

“And I’m sorry for coming between you both, for making you lose your best friend.” You put up a hand to stop him at this.

“Well, you actually did me more of a favor there since friends don’t treat friends like that.” 

He hums half-heartedly, agreeing with you. “Yeah…anyways, I’m not expecting anything from you or your forgiveness, but I just wanted you to know that I am sorry for everything.” 

“I’m sorry too.”

Daniel looks at you confused. “Um, why are you apologizing now?”

“The engagement.” 

“Oh, we weren’t officially engaged. It had been brought up and more on her side. And her mom, well, you know how she is.” You nod. "I don’t know why she did that…”

A breathy laugh escapes you as you cross your arms. “I do.” Bex was self-absorbed and probably a psychopath. You look back at Daniel. “I’m also sorry about us.” Daniel scrunches his face. "Back when we were going through it, I was dealing with my own personal demons and taking them out on you. And I shouldn’t have done that. You cheated, and that’s on you, but I wasn’t perfect.”

“You’re wrong…you were perfect. And I was and am the idiot who lost you.” You fall back into silence unsure of what to say. Daniel finally speaks. “Well, I gotta get to my next class.” 

The two of you give each other a final hug after speaking your peace. He gives you a wave before leaving. You feel a bit lighter suddenly getting the closure you didn't realize you needed.

Minho is on his way to class when he spots you and Daniel sitting together inside of the humanities building. He ducks behind a corner to watch the two of you. He can’t believe he is being this nosy, but his jealousy got the better of him and he couldn’t stop himself. He watches as the two of you hug and then quickly dips into an empty classroom when you head in his direction. He watches you walk by, head low. Once you are out of sight, Minho looks over at Daniel and sees him watching you leave.

-

On your way home you stop by the convenience store for candy that you fully intend to polish through in one sitting in the comfort of your home while Lost in Translation plays in the background. Excited for your pity party, you miss Minho lounging atop the porch bannister, head leaning back against the brick wall.

“How was your day, sweetheart?” You stop dead in your tracks and wince. Minho has never called you that before. Minho hops off of the banister and leans over the railing closest to you awaiting your answer. 

You look up at him. “It was…fine.” 

“Anything special happen?” He wears a smile that is difficult to discern.

“Um, no?” Minho’s tone is not as playful as usual when he wants to tease. You suddenly feel nervous.

“Try again.”

You tilt your head and ask, “What are you doing right now?”

“I saw you earlier.”

“Okay, well, proper etiquette is to say hi.” “You were with Daniel.” Oh… 

“And?” you say defensively. 

“What were the two of you doing together?” You are starting to get annoyed at whatever game he is playing.

“Why do you care, Minho?”

He shrugs, “Considering what happened the other night, I’m not so sure hanging around Daniel is such a good idea.”  “Excuse me, but who are you to dictate who I can and can’t talk to?” He scoffs and smiles sarcastically. “You’re right. Who am I, Y/n?” He pushes himself off the railing and walks away leaving you stunned.

What the heck was that about?

MASTERLIST

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

Tag List: @linocz @queenmea604 @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna

xx

[theneighbourunderthebed]

All of sfth's improvized plays described by someone with bad/selective memory (but remembers 90% of the sentences they make up) pt. 7 (+ 36 because it might be a while before they post 4 more plays to youtube and I just want to talk about Toby's Secret Pocket!!)

31) The Lighthouse

Illogical logic. Does it make sense to close the curtains in a lighthouse? No. Is it incredibly funny? Yeah, it is. This play is just AJ being confused the entire time. He's just such a himbo we love him. Also, Sam just goes mad by the end. Tom certainly didn't help with that "You're my.. cousin!" line. It started with AJ not knowing shit and it will end with AJ knowing shit but being stupid to piss Sam off

32) Murders in Space

Something about time penetration and interpreting the other's stagecraft wrong because it's funnier and maybe also a tiny bit petty

33) Marigolds, Bluebells and Hugh

If I had a nickel for every time AJ played a child who loved flowers but wasn't allowed to see them, Tom played his mother, the setting was German/British and the child ended up having a parent that was kept secret for reasons.. I'd have two. Which isn't a lot but FUHUUUCK it's so odd it happened twice

34) Moist and Magical

Magic and cakes!! Cake and magic!! And misuse of clips!! And a message about gender and how anyone can be [thing] despite their gender not being associated with [thing]

35) Burglary and Bobsledding

There's probably a really good message about not gambling your life away in here but I'm not too sure. Also, some really funny names are in here

36) Toby's Secret Pocket

STOP IN THE NAME OF THE LAAAAAW!! because this has cops and the mafia and drugs because WOOOH it's so much more entertaining than without!! Jimmy was the fan favorite the moment he was introduced and I love that. We love Jimmy </3

Prev // Next

[jinxxangel13]

Phantom of the Night

Chapter 3-full

I've been so excited to post this chapter that I actually forgot to post it on time. I'm not surprised anymore! Hope you enjoy! Tw: blood, gore, death, minor character deaths, injuries, inaccurate military and medical terms (I tried to research as best as possible, sorry if they're wrong!)

~Masterlist~ ~Prev~ ~Next~

Heavy set boots were all that could be heard around the hangard. Soldiers moving quickly on and around a transport plane, giving a wide berth to a large man with a completely black tactical gear, black skull balaclava and hard white skull mask cover the top half of the face mask: Lieutenant Ghost. 

“Wheels up in five.”

Some soldiers rushed faster to get their seats on the plane and double check their gear, but a few remained rooted in their spot, Ghost included.

“Roger.” His gruff voice cut across the radio back to General Shepherd.

“Marines are loading in now. You and the Sergeant are leading the way on this.”

Ghost tilted his head, annoyance in his voice lost in the neutral tone.

“Sergeant?”

A 6 foot tall man walked up to Ghost with an enthusiastic step. His hair shaved on the sides with a sort of mohawk down the center of his head, blue eyes sharp and full of excitement.

“Let's get ourselves a win, yeah, L.T.? Save ya a seat, sir.” 

Sergeant Johnny “Soap” MacTavish.

Soap fist bumped Ghost’s shoulder before making his way up the transport plane, making eye contact with another soldier walking up to the plane looking oddly out of place.

“Fuckin’ hell…” Ghost grumbled.

“Ghost- do you copy?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Any issues?”

“Negative, Sir.”

“Good. Captain Phantom will also be joining you on this mission. Get it done.”

Just as Shepherd finished his statement, the mystery figure Soap saw previously made their way towards Ghost.

The figure was wearing black tactical cargo pants with multiple knife straps and holsters on the thighs, a black long sleeve with a hooded overlay on top, tac vest full of frags, flashbangs, extra ammo clips and other things in pouches unknown to anyone except the figure wearing it, as well as a short black scarf around their neck and tucked into their vest. They had a balaclava across the lower half of their face with a thick black metal tactical mask over it, grey eyes almost gleaming as they stopped in front of Ghost, and their hair was underneath the scarf and out of view so he couldn’t identify this mystery person. When they stopped in front of Ghost, they had to look up quite a bit; being less than 6' compared to the 6'4" man didn't seem to be a deterrent for them at all. 

“Lieutenant Ghost, good to meet you. Captain Phantom.” The figure, the female, stuck her gloved hand out towards him.

Ghost shook her hand briefly, keeping in mind the strong grip each of them had on the other’s before they let go.

“On your move, sir. I’ve been requested by the General and Station Chief Laswell to accompany you and your men as backup on Alpha Team. I’m familiar with the mission and have been read in.” Her voice was deep, partially muffled and grainy from behind both masks, but she didn't seem to mind nor care.

Ghost nodded, turned away from her and walked right up into the transport plane with her at his heels to grab a seat and buckle in just as the door sealed shut for takeoff.

The teams spent a while in the air, not much conversation going on except for Ghost to introduce Phantom to Alpha team briefly. 

“Bravo Team offloads here. Alpha Team stays onboard to land downrange. Both teams meet in the middle. Remember, we want Hassan alive, but this is capture or kill.” Ghost's strong voice echoed through the radio in Phantom’s ear as well as directly in front of her.

She watched as Bravo team got ready to unload as the plane landed momentarily, nodding to Ghost as they made eye contact and accepting a first bump from Soap as they got off.

Phantom pulled her goggles down over her eyes and gripped tightly onto her M16 between her legs as the plane took off again to head to their final destination. She kept herself strapped in on instinct, as if something was telling her to brace herself and she was never one to ignore her instincts.

Another minute in the air and it grew more tense as she exchanged glances with her other team members after the plane made a sudden drop on the right side.

“All stations- Razor-1 is bracketed, we're getting lit! Incoming- Flares! Flares!”

Phantom’s eyes grew wide as one of the soldiers stood up to go help the pilots. She could hear the flares going off outside of their plane as it righted itself once again.

“Shit- that was fucking close.”

She chuckled, agreeing with another soldier in front of her and letting her shoulders relax themselves slightly.

“Second missile!”

Phantom barely had any time to brace herself and her weapon before a loud crash sounded on the right side of the plane, throwing anything or anyone not strapped down off balance. She grappled a soldier about to crumple to the ground, pulling him down onto the seat next to her.

“Razor 1 going down! We're going down!” That was the last thing Phantom heard in her ear before she felt the plane plummet down to the ground, grinding and crunching metal the only thing anyone in the vicinity could hear. 

The sound was deafening; a ringing in her ears as she slowly came to. Everything was blurry and she couldn’t make out the garbled voices in her ear before a shrill let off through her radio. With a heavy hand, she ripped the contraption out of her ear before taking a moment to regain her bearings. 

Phantom could barely register her own coughing, let alone the one or two soldiers near her as she struggled to unbuckle herself from her seat.

“Alp--immobile. -Critical! Taking effective fire!” 

Phantom shook her head a little, running her hand across her head, hissing as she brushed against a gash over her temple; must have hit her head on the headrest or something. The piercing sound of bullets from around them was grounding her enough to be able to open her eyes, finding her gun still hooked around her foot.

“Still alive there, Cap?”

Phantom’s eyes were unfocused as she looked around the voice, jolting when a hand steadied her as she stood up. Her legs almost collapsed from underneath her, but she knew they’d be dead if she didn’t stay upright.

“Yes, sir.” Her voice was harsh as she spoke, finally able to get her hands to stop shaking enough to lift her gun up.

Muscle memory started to kick in as her mind caught up with the fact they were in the middle of the battlefield. The man in front of her she didn’t know except his radio callsign.

“Just you and I?” 

Alpha 0-2 and Phantom looked around.

“5 KIA, one wounded, you and I standing. Get your gun on that treeline. Gotta hold them off until Bravo team can clear those buildings.”

“Yes, Sir!”

Phantom leaned heavily against the right wall, windows blown out, and raised her gun to help drop as many AQ members as possible.

She could barely hear the other man over the sounds of gunfire and rpg’s going off in the background, but she could tell that he was talking to Bravo team over his radio.

“I don’t have coms! What’s going on?”

There was a lapse in firing, so Phantom took the moment to reload her gun as quickly as possible; easier said than done when her hands were still shaking from adrenaline, but it at least distracted from the headache.

“Bravo team is on their way. Keep your eyes peeled!”

“Copy!” Was her immediate reply as she leaned her back against the metal siding.

Barely 30 seconds had passed before she heard footsteps fast approaching the opened back of the plane. As she turned her sights towards the entrance, she heard a familiar voice hastily calling out to the two of them.

“Blue, blue, blue!”

Her posture relaxed slightly as Ghost and Soap ran into the plane wreckage.

“Damn good to see you both.” Phantom groaned out, repositioning herself against the corner of the window, switching to her rifle and pointing it out as she focused her eyes on the treeline but still listening to the men.

“We got five KIA, one wounded. It's just my gun and I'm low on ammo. Help me move him-”

“No time.” Ghost cut him off, sliding behind Phantom to pat her shoulder and set himself up at the next window. “Get your gun on that treeline.”

Soap set himself up in a crouching position at the plane opening after placing down a few proximity mines a few paces away as a last resort.

Phantom's eyes narrow through her scope, catching Ghost’s attention at the tensing of her posture.

“See anything?” Ghost’s voice was heavier than previously.

Phantom kept her hands steady as she zeroed in on something in the distance.

“Got movement.” 

“If you have a shot, take it.”

That was all that she needed to block out any further conversation between her teammates and take initiative: headshot.

A smirk made its way across her lips from under the mask as she set up her next few shots. Phantom wasn’t registering what they were saying around her even though she could hear them until she felt the plane rock back from the force of an RPG. If it wasn't for the quick reaction time of Ghost grabbing onto the back of her vest, she would have been flung backwards from the force.

When the dust settled, she straightened herself back up, switching back to her M16.

“Thanks, L.T.” Phantom nodded to him, switching places with Soap at the opening instead. 

“We clear?” Soap kept looking out of his scope, even after Phantom gave him a nod.

Ghost huffed, reloading his gun. “For now.”

[some-pers0n]

Im the prev anon, but yeagh a few stuff: whats with medic and the baboon uteruses also a few critiques of tf2 :0 when I first got into tf2 i noticed some things

Okie pokie.

With Medic and the baboon uteruses, that's a joke that follows up on the things established by Meet the Medic. The heart that Medic replaces Heavy's normal one is a mega baboon heart if I remember correctly. It shows that Medic uses exotic animal organs for his surgeries.

The baboon uterus part is also foreshadowed earlier in the comics. Literally the first moment that Medic is introduced, he mentions it.

And then later on its reinforced.

Until finally...

And then Cheavy dies, blah blah blah..

And then boom. Baboon child.

Okay, so, time to put on my bitchy WoF fan mode. It feels weird to just actually talk and complain about TF2 because, unlike WoF, there isn't really anything that FEELS like missed potential and or just poorly handled. It doesn't jump out at you as much.

However, I will say that the Saxton Hale subplot in the comics did feels...very unimportant. I get it if it was to build-up something for the final comic involving some sort of confrontation between the mercs and Charles Darling along with the Administrator, but it's just. yeah. I don't care for it. Maggie doesn't exactly offer much in terms of character stuff other than being Saxton's girlfriend.

On a similar note, Zhanna. The comics in generally feel like they introduce a lot of ideas, yet don't really follow through on them. Again, this is because we are literally missing the final piece of the puzzle, but Zhanna doesn't exactly. do much. Her role in the story is just as another comedic relief character and a foil to Soldier. Literally we've already got enough foils for Soldier. Merasmus, Demoman, etc. Zhanna doesn't really do anything.

I hate this panel. I don't even know how you can defend it. I'm retconning this to death and back in my fic.

There is no The Funny. It's just the TFC Soldier and Scout talking and then at the very end being like. pedos?? Ermm,, how about NO??? Valve, why would you make the only kinda canonically queer couple in TF2 be pedos. Can you not? Please?

Hmm,, erm.. hmm... The lore itself is generally delivered in a confusing and convoluted manner. Yet again, I feel like that we would've gotten a great and amazing summary and explanation for everything in the final comic, but I need you to understand that I genuinely get migranes from trying to understand and piece together the lore, much more with actually trying to rewrite it and make sense of it. I'm at a point where I feel maniac joy from learning that green is the inverse of purple.

I'm kinda scraping at the bottom of the barrel here. I don't have too many thoughts on the Lore for now. Of the game? I mean, I'm not too into the actual game itself other than watching countless video essays, clip dumps, and generally just enjoying it all. I think that Dustbowl sucks.

OOH!! I randomly just don't like how New Zealand was sentenced to being an underwater desolate place that we barely explored. Boo!! Be like Rapture!! I think it would be so very cool if The Gang explored either what is literally just the underwater utopia city of Atlantis, or Rapture post-civil war. I think there's a lot of potential with New Zealand that's never touched on.

Scratch that, Valve (and the general fandom) is sitting on a literal GOLD MINE when it comes to Australia. Australium mine if you will. You have this futuristic utopian society that's got plenty of potential for weird shit and NOBODY talks about it. I feel like pulling my hair out whenever I think about Australia. It SHOULD be a important part. It should be something that's talked about more. Yet, nothing. Sjdbsmsbwjsbsh,,,

There should've been more Demo comics. Demo gets treated so, so, so bad by Valve man. I wish Demo's character was treated as more than just a silly goober. Like his parents literally abandoning him for a bit before readopting him, him losing his eye, his alcoholism, etc. I get it that it's the funny silly goofy game, but it's also the same silly goofy game that reveals that the Pootis Russian Guy's father was killed for his political views and he himself and his entire family was imprisoned in a gulag.

Clicking my tongue and tapping my desk trying to think of stuff. Hmm,, there's a lot of potential missed with the TFC team. They were introduced pretty late and we only really got two comics of them being threats until they all died. Fred and Cheavy especially I think wayyy too much about. Also Cmedic but eh. I love Fred and I kinda wish he would be there in the final comic. I do think that Cheavy had a good reason for getting mad at Medic, that being that Medic's literally sewing god knows what into him and his fellow coworkers as well and spending their entire budget AND reviving Sniper.

Miss Pauling's SFM design >>>>> her comic one. Her purple and white button shirt VS solid purple block dress.

I dunno what else to complain about. See ya.

[karmaisakhaleesi]

💫 Astronomy~ Neteyam Sully x fem!human! reader Chap. 4 💫

masterlist~

prev. chap.~

warnings~ language, death is mentioned, please lmk if i missed any!

first, this is chapter 4! i accidentally posted the wrong chapter earlier so this is the right one! sorry again, when i write i make a separate google doc for each chapter so i don't get them mixed up when posting them here, but i admit i was very sleep deprived when i posted the last version of this so it got mixed up.

i promise this won't happen again! sorry!

wordcount~ 2.6k+

➳

We've traveled the seas, we've ridden the stars...

➳

Your fingers fidgeted with the small hairclip in your hand, its orange and yellow feathers serving as a temporary distraction to the argument occurring before you.

"She needs to be sent back!" Jake had argued to Norm as Max interjected his arms flailing as he gestured to the three monitors displaying different charts and results.

Norm sighed, "Look, even if I wanted to send her back, we can't! There's no telling what would happen if we do. Most likely she would be subject to cruel and inhumane experiments, and that's if the RDA doesn't get their hands on her first. If they did," he paused glancing over at you warily before continuing, "they could most definitely use her against us," he finished his hands shaking by his side.

Jake was conflicted; on the one hand, you could be innocent, and truly have no idea what was going on or have any attention of harming his family or the Omatikaya Clan, but on the other hand, you could already be a spy, like he had been at one point for the RDA. He groaned in frustration, and then it hit him.

You glanced over at the men when Jake cleared his throat, "She can stay," Norm sighed in relief but it was cut short as Jake continued, "She can stay, and she will learn the way of the Omatikaya Clan. However there are some ground rules," he listed them off but his voice was so faint you could barely hear.

Norm nodded, "Alright, that sounds fair, I'll let her know."

You flinched as Jake walked past you and Norm stopped in front of you, "So, you can stay!" he said his voice full of mock enthusiasm.

"And? What 'rules' do I need to follow?" you asked fixing the clip into your hair a small smile on your lips.

"Well, you won't be able to come back here for a while, of course. And of course, you'll be staying in the mountains with Jake," you barely listened overcome with excitement.

Finally, you'd be able to leave the lab. It had been almost six months since you'd been locked away. Although that hadn't stopped you from sneaking out every now and then to see the others when Norm and Max's noses were buried in research papers and the like. You just hadn't been able to go out during the day.

"Are you even listening?" Norm asks, breaking you out of your thoughts and you frown dramatically, "Of course I am! I heard all about how I'm going to the mountains and I can't come back. I'm just excited I finally get to see everyone again!"

"So you weren't listening, were you?" he asks.

"Um, okay. Maybe I zoned out just a little bit okay! But I heard all the important stuff!" you argued back crossing your arms in annoyance.

He sighs frustrated, "So you heard all about how you won't be staying anywhere near Jake's family right? You're forbidden from interacting with them at all," he said his voice serious as he crosses his arms.

"What? Why?" you ask sullenly your brows twisting in confusion.

"Because Jake doesn't trust you and neither does Neytiri. Think of it this way, you could be a potential threat, not that I'm saying you are one!" he says when feels your glare.

"Just, bear with it for now, okay?"

You murmur out a "Fine," but pause licking your lips, a question about your mother on the tip of your tongue, but you bite it back making your way back to your room as Norm calls out, "And remember, you leave in two weeks!"

You shut the door tightly and pull your communicator out of your pocket, and hear General Ardmore's calm and crisp voice, "Miss Augustine, how've you been? Your last report is overdue by three months, remember your contract?" she says smiling coldly, her voice frigid as she finishes speaking.

You clear your throat when she feigns a gasp, "Miss Augustine, have you noticed your eyes," her eyes scan you up and down, and you can see her hide a smirk.

Your eyebrow twitches, "There have been some, changes, General," you pause as she flips through a stack of papers.

She couldn't... know anything? Could she?

Your thoughts are interrupted as she speaks, " I bet you're wondering why I'm not surprised."

She fixes her hair before continuing, "I can't exactly tell you everything now, but I'll let you know this, the changes were intentional. And I expect your next report to be on time. Any questions?"

Yeah a lot actually, you think as you clear your throat, "Actually, for the next year, I'll be staying in the Halleluiah Mountains, with Jake Sully. So my report won't exactly be timely."

The icy smile returns to her lips, "Is that so? Well, I'll be waiting when you return, and remember," she says in a singsongy voice, "your contract."

And then the screen goes black, ending the call.

➳

You took a deep breath as you peeked around the corner, Norm was busy typing up an email to some colleague back on Earth and Max was drawing a diagram from a chart his hands raking through his hair as he held his chin in thought.

This should be easy, you thought as you slowly crept to the door, your hand slowly opening it and shutting it behind you, the treeline greeting you. You quickly walked into the forest the bioluminescent plants mesmerizing you as you quickly reached your meeting point. You sat down on a log and listened to the noise of the plants and creatures surrounding you.

It had been six months since you first landed on Pandora, and not a moment went by when you didn't think of home, of the tall green trees and warm sun, or at least what was left of them, that greeted you every day and night. But the most recent thing on your mind was snow. Most of your fondest memories involved the snow, the cold flakes sticking in your hair, reaching out to catch one on your tongue, and you realized you would probably never see it again.

A twig snaps and you turn to see Neteyam standing in front of you a smile on his face as he sits down next to you, "What are you thinking about Sky girl?" he says his voice playful as he pulls you up to stand.

His hand lingers on yours before he pulls something out from behind him, another hairpiece. This one however is in the shape of a comb and has clear beads dangling down it, with a single blue feather attached. He gently fixes it in your hair and smiles, his hands lingering on your hair before he takes a step back, "So, I heard you're joining us in the mountains," he says his hand grasping yours.

You nod as he leads you down a path, your grip on his hand tightening as you hear another branch snap.

"I'm leaving in two weeks, I guess," you pause cleaning your throat before you add, "and your father has decided I can't step a foot near you, or Kiri, Tuk, and Lo'ak," you add quickly a blush creeping up your cheeks when you come to a stop nearly running into Neteyam's back.

He opens his mouth to speak, but a familiar cry interrupts him. You look up to see an Ikran standing before you, you stare at its green mottled skin as Neteyam reaches his hand out to you, you grab it and he gently helps you up, sitting behind you he makes Tsaheylu with his Ikran. You gasp as the flapping of wings greets your ears, and his grip on your waist tightens as the Ikran takes off.

You can feel your heart in your throat as you fly around and out of the trees and reach the sky, the stars twinkling down at you, and you feel tears brimming in your eyes.

Neteyam notices the shift in your mood as you attempt to discreetly wipe away the tears falling down your face and points up to the sky, "Are you thinking of home again? Do you think you could point it out from here?"

You frown, "No, I'm just, happy," you reply as you smile, "and besides I'd need a telescope for that, and even then, it'd probably still be too far away," you said as you pushed your hair out of your face.

He smiled down at you and tightened his grip on your waist as his Ikran dove down and then back up again, drawing laughter from you.

He wished the night would never end as he gazed down at you.

You feel dizzy when you land, and after what feels like hours of flying, you nearly fall on your face but Neteyam quickly catches you and helps you regain your balance.

Once you reached the lab you could feel your face warming with blush as Neteyam reluctantly let go of your hand. You froze for a second, debating on whether or not to move forward, but planted your lips on his cheek as he said goodnight, "Goodnight!" you shouted before rushing inside not giving him a chance to respond before you ran back to your room and collapsed against the door. And you could swear your heart was going to explode as you held your face in your hands.

➳

Neteyam stood in front of the lab shocked as his hand touched his face where your lips had once been, a blush heating up his face as he turned and ran back to his Ikran. His heart beating so hard he thought it might beat out of his chest.

He couldn't stop smiling even into the next morning, and as he finished sharpening an arrow Lo'ak couldn't help but ask what had him in such a good mood, "What's got you in such a good mood bro?" he asked as he set down his knife.

Neteyam turned to him his face still red, "I-I umm, nothing," he stuttered out before he caught the look Lo'ak was giving him, he shook his head and went back to sharpening an arrow.

"Hey, you know I'm not that stupid, right? So," Lo'ak's brow furrowed as he asked, "do you like Sky girl?"

Neteyam laughed, "What? No," he said as he shook his head, "I don't like her like that, I can't!" he exclaimed as he threw the arrow across the floor and slumped back down on the log.

Lo'ak moved closer to him, "Why not?" he asked as he turned to him, his eyes looking him over before returning his gaze.

Neteyam stood up and grabbed his arrows, "Because she's from Earth, and she's," he mumbled trailing off.

"So?"

He frowned, "If you like her you should tell her," he paused to pick up his knife looking it over, "and it's pretty obvious, what with you sneaking out after eclipse all the time."

"What? I would never-"

Lo'ak laughed as he sharpened his knife, "I told you, way too obvious."

Neteyam looked up at him "What if she doesn't feel the same?"

Lo'ak opened his mouth to say something, but paused and looked into the trees, "I don't know, that's up to you to find out," he said turning to leave.

Neteyam sighed and shook his head, "I don't need to tell her, I'm pretty sure she already knows how I feel," he mumbled under his breath.

➳

Your head throbbed as your pen tapped the paper, blue ink smudging on the white canvas. You twirled the pen in your hand, wondering how to start, maybe with, "Hey mom, how've things been back home? Is it getting any better?" but quickly scratched that when the images of Earth came flooding back. It was nothing like Pandora, the trees were thinking away, the sky was seemingly always a dull grey no matter where you went, and the sun was always a bleak and cold yellow that almost never made an appearance.

It was strange, when you first came here seven months ago, you were homesick for the dying planet, you even missed the noises of cars in the city at night. But what was killing you to know, was if the treatment had gone according to plan and if it hadn't yet if it ever would. You didn't like to think about it, but your mother had been on death's door when you'd left. The doctors had given her months to live, and yet the General assured you she would be fine, as long as you held up your end of the deal. Your 'contract', which was constantly held over your head, forced you to spy on your newfound friends.

You turned on your side as you glanced out the window, waiting for the sun to set.

➳

You smiled as you entered the forest, you'd written so much you'd gotten sick of it and spent the rest of the day trying to convince Norm to let you go outside, but he wouldn’t relent. 

“You leave in two weeks, and then you’ll have plenty of fresh air,” he’d said, staring into a microscope. 

Your lips curled into a small smile as you saw Neteyam walking towards you and remembered the kiss, and how you'd left before he could say anything. You were still nervous that it would affect your friendship. 

"Hey, is something wrong Sky girl?" he asks as he walks up to you, his eyes scanning your face as his eyebrows furrowed.

You stare up at him, "Uh, nothing," you mutter trying to think of something to say.

"You sure?" he asks as he moves closer, "your eyes are red, were you crying?"

You shake your head, "No, I just had a bad dream this morning, that's all," you say turning away from him.

He looks at you for a moment before he moves closer, "Were you thinking of Earth again?" he asks as he places his hand on your shoulder, his voice soft as you feel tears prick at your eyes. 

You clear your throat and look up at him, the General’s words echoing through your ears, “Remember, your contract, collect as much info on Jake Sully and his family before we send in the recombinant soldiers, or the deal’s off.”

You choke back a sob and Neteyam pulls you into his chest. You wished you could tell him. How you were so desperate that you turned to the RDA, even though you knew how awful you were. But what choice did you have? Grace was dead, you didn’t even know your Father’s name, let alone if he was alive or not, and your mother was the only family you had left. And if she was gone, what would become of you? 

You sobbed into Neteyam’s chest as he rubbed circles in your back. 

“I’m sorry, for crying,” you said through the tears.

"It's okay," he reassured you as he wiped away your tears.

"I-" you paused, the words caught in your throat. You wanted to tell him everything, but when your eyes met you realized you couldn't. At least not yet.

Neteyam licked his lips when he realized how close you were, your noses almost touched, and your lips were a hair's breadth away.

He watched as your eyes fluttered closed, and you leaned in. He closed his eyes and tightened his grip on your waist as your lips met.

You shut your eyes, and wrapped your arms around his neck as you listened to his breaths, his heartbeats. You opened your eyes, and you could see his open too. He leaned in, gently grabbed your face, and pulled you into a deeper kiss.

When you pulled away, you stared into his eyes again. His hand cupped your cheek as he stared at you.

"I like you, Sky girl," he said resting his forehead against yours.

You smiled, "I like you too."

"I know you do," Neteyam said teasing you.

You sighed and playfully hit him on the arm, making him flinch as he leaned in once more.

➳

thank you so much for reading and i hope you enjoyed! 💙

sorry this chapter was so short! the two one shots i have written for this will be posted by sunday night. they can be read alone or as a part of the story.

please comment below if you'd like to be added to the taglist and requests are open!

taglist~

@phantomalex14

@myheartfollower

@gielrmn

@crimsonincursive

@itszzmoon

@neqeyam

@il0veheartz

@fanboyluvr

@neteyamforlife

[metalgearsolidexclamationpoint]

I played The Quarry ch 2/3/4 in one big chunk

I am terrible at finding tarot cards! There was one where I walked into the room and the game was like, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD IDIOT PRESS X TO COLLECT THE TAROT CARD.

That said, I also got 2 cards (Star and Tower), said I wanted to look at Tower in more depth, and when I got to the pause screen to look at it again… the video clip was under Star. Uhhh… bug report? A shame, because Tower is the most evil bad news card in the Major Arcana, even worse than the Devil, Hanged Man, or Death.

8 years of shooting qualification and treat-never-keep-keep must have really gotten under my skin, because when Jake flagged Kaitlyn and Nick with the shotty, I flinched and yelled in real life. Also, giving a gun to a genuinely unstable person is not recommended.

Chapter 3 seems pretty early to reveal the (a?) monster, which was teased with green-o-vision spy cam but seemed distinct from the rednecks, and again looks very similar to UD's enemy. When it attacked Abi and Nick, something shot at it, which I assume is the (prev post) rednecks. Also, when Abi had the choice to run or hide, I remembered Jess and hid. Then I had the choice to climb a tree and I thought... this chick can't climb trees. I seem to have made it through okay!

Also learned from UD to take the shortcut, which got Ryan to Nick in… the nick of time. 😎 🏆

I'm kind of digging the reveals, though. The rednecks watching the kids and saying, fuck this and walking away. The weird bloated corpse in the lake, which to me is kind of like... yeah, creepy, but if you don't know it's there, and also you've been swimming in that lake all summer long anyway... does it really matter?

Btw, the muscle reminds me of Stephen Fry from the Kickin’ Ass sketch. Oren here will just tap along to the strange rhythms in his head.

Ohhh, the graphics are becoming harder and harder to overlook. The water looks TERRIBLE, which makes me think it was added to show off PS5 capes, and my PS4 is absolutely chugging trying to render everything, My PS4 is also coming up on 7 years of age. I had to force quit a loading screen twice already. PLEASE HANG ON BABY.

Thus far I have managed to badly misinterpret both of the tarot card hints I got: failed to take the fireworks with me, and, proving I forgot the lesson from UD and also the last chapter, opened a trap door, which got Emma killed as, frankly, anyone opening a trap door deserves.

Luckily, Jake was already dead at that point, because Ryan fired a warning shot into him. Fascinated by the VHS tape (what a fun design choice, btw, they are so cool looking [even if Video Nasty is an explicitly British term] and I’m dying to know the provenance of the fake director names) for that chain of decisions: Jake didn’t distract the hunter who freed him from the rope trap > hunter pours blood on Jake’s face > Ryan shoots Jake in the bushes. If Jake didn’t have blood on his face, would he have yelled, “hey guys! It’s me!!”? Did the blood enervate him? I assumed the blood had something to do with hiding from the monsters, not other normal humans.

Anyway, Nick got bit or whatever and according to a tarot card he will develop superhuman strength, presumably while transforming into these Nosferatu-looking mfers. Abi has been unfailingly kind to him, which will hopefully pay off when he loses all traces of humanity but recognizes the bright spark of her love and stops himself from ripping her face off. In chapter 5, I guess, because so far all the tarot cards have been hints for the immediately upcoming chapter. Which is a bit hand-holdy for my tastes, but also I forgot the totem hints 30 seconds after I saw them in UD, so I see where they’re coming from.

And Dylan… that’s not how infection works?? It doesn’t appear within 20 minutes as a black mold spreading through your veins?? And what did you want to amputate anyway, his shoulder?

I feel like Kaitlyn is an apology for Emily from UD after Supermassive didn’t realize how much backlash Emily was going to get for being assertive and opinionated (aka a bitch). I like Kaitlyn and the way she takes charge of situations, but it looks like she doesn’t get to be equally forthright/"alpha" in relationships.

Also, uhh… SM has paired the POC together again, but this time threw a wrench into it by also making it a love triangle including a gay guy. I have thoughts but I also don’t want to wade into waters I am not qualified to swim in.

Loved the narrative device of Emma as influencer filming videos that gives her an excuse to walk and talk, rather than give us a Heavy Rain-style button to read thoughts or just have the PC talk to themselves the whole time.

“Do we snoop through someone else’s belongings or do we open the spooky trap door and die a horrible, painful death?!” There’s another explicit UD ref. I remembered that lesson and didn't snoop in Max's bag in the prologue either.

[youarejesting]

Mania.4

[MASTER LIST] [Mania Master list]

Beta: N/A Rating: Mature 18+ Pairing: BTS OT7 Genre: Fantasy, Romance, Comedy, Omegaverse Words: 1.3k Blood types: Namjoon, Jhope, Jungkook, Yoongi (A) Taehyung (AB) Jin, Jimin and Yoongi (O) (Jimin in real life is an A blood type)

Summary: At eighteen everyone takes a blood test to find out their blood types. A, B, or O. Each blood type represents the person’s secondary gender Alpha, Beta or Omega and can be Dominant (+) or Recessive (-).

When small thin Yoongi receives his letter he doesn’t expect A+. There was no way he was an Alpha especially not a dominant. But as time passes he shows no Alpha nor Omega tendencies and frankly he doesn’t care. Working in his father’s electrical business helps pay the bills but Yoongi’s real passion is music.

One very hot day in the roof space of a luxury apartment that Yoongi is rewiring an intoxicatingly pleasant smell churns his insides and he finds himself in need of something to quench his thirst.

[First] [Prev] [Mania] [Next]

Yoongi almost felt normal, well his ‘normal’ before everything he knew turned upside and inside out. He was back to working in his father’s business and all he had to do was take one small pill. Pulling on his jumpsuit, he called his father just to confirm, he was perfectly capable of completing the work he missed.

Grabbing the keys, the bottle of pills, he decided against the stronger dose as the mild one worked perfectly fine yesterday. Getting into the van he put the address into his GPS and drove to the gated estate in which the famous band members stayed. It was a long drive but Yoongi couldn’t even bring himself to be tired, he wondered if it was the iced americano that made him happy. He repressed any thoughts that it might have something to do with the fact he was heading back to the apartment filled with the impressive Alphas and beautiful Omegas.

He would be lying if he hadn’t felt his heart flutter when he thought about seeing Seokjin and Jimin again in the flesh and a tiny flutter in his tummy when he thought of the Powerful Alpha’s each with a delicious scent that haunted him.

Yoongi pulled into the driveway and stopped before the Barrier Arm his window in line with the security booth, he leaned over showing his ID and giving his business.

“You aren’t on the list?” Yoongi frowned and called the number Seokjin had given him and it went through on the third call.

“Hello, this is Kim Seokjin,” the omega answered, making Yoongi take a sharp breath, his mouth feeling dry.

“Hey, it’s Min Yoongi, your electrician, I am out the front to finish up the repairs but I can’t get in, I can come back another day if it’s not a convenient time” Yoongi flushed as the security guard watched him, it was awkward.

“I will come down, wait there” the phone line went dead and Yoongi forced a laugh.

“Have you had a long day?” it was such an awkward question on top of an awkward situation, Yoongi wanted to leave quickly. His savior came in the form of Kim Seokjin who slipped into the car and the barrier arm was lifted.

“Why are you so pink?” Seokjin asked, placing the back of his hand on Yoongi’s forehead.

“I just made an absolute fool of myself with the gatekeeper,” Yoongi huffed his lips pursing, “I am never coming back here again,”

“Oh, that’s a shame,” Seokjin laughed “I enjoy your company and I wouldn’t mind seeing you again, well that’s it you can never leave, if you see him again you will turn into a tomato”

Yoongi laughed wholeheartedly, something about Seokjin’s expressions was so lively and comical and it made Yoongi feel giddy just seeing it. Like he could play around and not be judged, not that Yoongi had ever really cared what people thought of him. It’s just he usually had a stone-cold exterior and found it awkward to speak about anything outside of a professional setting. 

So it was easy to laugh and joke around even embarrass himself in front of the omega when it couldn’t compare to what had happened during his heat, this man had seen him at his worst and yet still wanted to be friends and that's what gave Yoongi the confidence to relax.

“Come on in, let me help carry some things,” Seokjin said, “Oh, I forgot to warn you, Jimin is in heat but he is in his bedroom and that shouldn’t affect anything right?”

Yoongi shrugged unsure if it would affect him or not, he hadn’t been exposed to anyone in a heat, hell he had only had a heat once. “I’m not sure,”

“How did the appointment with the specialist go, you were available, I didn’t know if you were busy on that day so I just guessed, I hoped you could make it, it’s not easy getting into seeing the specialist there as she is very good.” Seokjin said

“She doesn’t take new patients either so I am wondering what strings you pulled to get me an appointment?” Yoongi huffed the stairs and took a lot out of him and the two stopped halfway on a small landing to catch their breath. The two laughed at one another, “I am getting too old for this?”

“Tell me about it, everyone else seems to be spring chickens and I am over here taking afternoon naps,” Seokjin laughed “The only thing that doesn’t age is my pretty face and my attitude.”

“I want a nap,” Yoongi mumbled, getting to the top of the staircase and walking down the hall until they reached a familiar door. 

Seokjin opened the door, with a cheeky grin, “You can take a nap and finish the work in an hour if you want?” 

The house was as luxurious as Yoongi remembered, he declined the offer to rest wanting to get his work finished. He stepped in hesitantly and the scents lingered in the walls carpet and floated in the air like pollen. It was captivating and safe and for the first time since he left he relaxed.

Taking out the clip board, Yoongi went over the details of where he was adding new powerpoints and light switches that he had run through the roof the last time he was here. He switched off the power as he always did for his own safety and got to work. It was easy and with every breath he felt his body relax calmer and calmer until his eyes shut for a moment.

“Jin, the air conditioner isn’t working,” Yoongi caught the most delicious scent drifting down the hallway and when he turned he saw a very naked and extremely sweaty Hoseok in his boxes.

“Oh, I am sorry, I didn’t know we had guests?” Hoseok said, Yoongi didn’t want to admit it but the band members had left a strong impression on him and he spent his time researching their music and finding out about each member's personality. 

Yoongi was captivated by Jimin his singing and dancing, the way he moved was honestly so captivating that Yoongi could admit he had fallen in love with Jimin when he performed. But, his eyes were often stolen by Hoseok, in interviews he stole the spotlight and made Yoongi laugh, and in his dance he could be a total wild card. Was he sweet, sexy, tough, romantic, bouncy and light, or soft and passionate?

Hoseok seemed the total opposite of Yoongi, Hoseok was outgoing and loud by nature, and well that intrigued Yoongi a lot more than he wanted to admit.

“The power is out, because Yoongi is finishing up the electrical work,” Seokjin said exasperated, “maybe try not to…”

Seokjin dropped his voice and Hoseok giggled, “You know Jimin whines if I don’t give him what he wants.”

Moving to the fridge which was right beside Yoongi. Yoongi tried to focus on his work as he leant over the counter to reach the back wall where he was attaching wires for a powerpoint. 

Hoseok moving closer pushed his scent in Yoongi’s direction making his stomach churn and his knees weaken. He reached into his pocket and took the mild pill and he sighed in relief, knowing he was safe. 

What he didn’t expect was for Hoseok to slide past him, he put a hand on Yoongi’s waist as a preemptive warning that he was stepping behind him, and he reached up trying to grab a glass from the cupboard above Yoongi’s head.

Yoongi felt the churn in his stomach again, this time heavier, his legs shook and he gripped the counter a small whimper falling past his lips. Yoongi tried to lift his chest from the counter but it was a form of submission and his body automatically doubled over the bench for the dominant Alpha behind him. His earthy scent was intoxicating, grapefruit, pepper and cedar. He was fresh, spicy, and warm.

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[the1rei]

Bloomin Ross pt47

Nothing like a little friendly competition to help people bond so long as things don’t get heated. 

<<< First Post  <<Prev Post - Next Post >>

It was amazing what a day's rest could do for Fidello, the draft horse pumped her legs hard energetically with no hesitation or weakness.  Cass' short hair flew in the wind as they raced through the fields along the cliff faces of Arendelle.  Cass like this so much better, there were no feelings no thoughts to taunt her, just her Fidello and speed.  They would ride hard until exhaustion, and then that would kill the thoughts, smother them under a mound of sore muscles and the satisfaction of having pushed themselves to the limit.  This was the only place she could be free.

"Wooohooo!"  The cry startled Cass, but not as much as the dark shadow that fell over her and Fidello.  Cass looked up in time to see the black body and white fetlocks of a massive horse sail over her before she passed from under it.  The beast landed and raced to make up the lost distance, but as impressive a horse, the Clydesdale was Cass' eyes narrowed on his rider.  The very dragon riding princess whose shadow had fallen across everything that had happened for the last three days, Ardra.  The Clydesdale caught up swiftly, and once they were beside one, another Ardra shouted over with a wave and a smile.  "Hey Cass, this is Angus, grandcolt of me mother's horse Angus, wanna race us?"  

"I wouldn't want to make a princess look bad," Cass shouted back wanting to add a few more choice words to the statement but knew now that she had to hold her tongue even more than before.

"Och!  Forget about the princess nonsense!"  Ardra waved the word off with disgust, a word that made her life such that nothing could bar anything from her.  She saw only the burden of duty and laughed that away, "Unless you want to use it as an excuse for when I beat you!"  

Ardra spurred Angus on, and the Clydesdale pulled ahead of Fidello.  Cass glared at Ardra, Ardra who wouldn't rest until she had taken everything from Cass her dignity, her friends, Rose, her purpose.  Cass spurred Fidello on; she wouldn't let her have her peace of mind!

Fidello caught back up to Angus, but her presences only spurred him on fester, mud and grit flew from their hooves as they struggled to keep pace with one another.  With a sudden turn, Ardra directed them towards the forest something about a shortcut.  Cass growled and spurred Fidello after them and faster to make up for the lost time of the wide late turn.  

The canopy of the forest plunged them into the shade as the branches whipped at them, that was usually enough to deter a horse's speed if not make them abandon the chaise altogether, but Cass kept her going closing in on Ardram the eight hooves of the two horses thundered across the ground.  

"Cass watch out," Ardra called, and it was only then that Cass heard the sound of something crashing through the forest as the trunk of a massive dead tree fell, shook loose bu them no doubt, and crashed across the trail nearly clipping Angus' tail.  Ardra pulled back on Angus reigns to halt him, but Cass didn't hesitate and with a tug directed Fidello to jump over the fallen log. The mare cleared it and hit the ground running speeding pass Ardra and Angus.  

By the time they broke through the forest, Ardra was closing again.  Here the cliffs jutted out in multiple layers the path diverging up and down.  Cass steered for the decline hoping to pick up speed and keep her lead.  Ardra took the incline, and it soon was obvious why.  The lower path twisted around like a snake, some turns so sharp that it would only be prudent to slow down.  Glaring back up at Ardra Cass cursed at her knowledge of the area, just one more advantage Ardra had over her.  Cass didn't slow down, directing Fidello around the turns in a way that only horse with unshakeable faith in the directions of their rider would accept.  

When Ardra rode to Cass' level again, they were still neck and neck.  "Wooo, your good, but only one of us can fit first to the finish line."  There had been no definition of a track in their race of course, but when Cass saw the narrow chasm that would admit them only one at a time she agreed that would be the end, and she couldn't possibly reach it first.  

Fidello was slowing down; maybe she had been running longer than Angus, or a hint of the damned sea sickness was still making her just a little bit weak.  Maybe Cass had pushed her too hard, or maybe Angus was just hardier and faster.  It didn't matter Ardra would get there first and Cass couldn't stand the thought of it.  

Cass felt her foot slam into Angus's hanches before any conscious thought to do so came to mind.  But as the sudden impact caused the Clydesdale to stagger and slow to catch himself Cass remembered thinking it was the only way to win.  Fidello pulled ahead, and Ardra pulled back on Angus's reigns to slow him letting Fidello gallop into the chasm uncontested lest they crash into each other.  

By the time Ardra joined her on the other side of the chasm Cass was off Fidello standing in front of her feeding her a handful of oats the draft horse between the opening and Cass, not that she was hiding.  

"What was that!?"  Ardra shouted jumping off of Angus and storming towards Cass.  Cass wasn't quick to answer, and Ardra reached first, grabbing her shoulder and shoving Cass around to face her.  

Cass slapped away Ardra's hand and glared up at the older girl, "I won."

"You could have hurt Angus and gotten my neck broken with that stunt, not to mention yourself and Fidello if he had fallen into you."  Ardra raged gesturing wildly at all of them, "If I hadn't-"

"Of course!"  Cass snapped back rolling her eyes her fingers twitching like they wanted to wrap around the taller girl's neck.  "It's all thanks to you, isn't it?  Nothing in the world can go right unless Ardra is the one making it happen!"  

Ardra huffed and started to say something several times her hands wagging finger as if she was going to scold Cass and clenching tight as if to punch her.  Cass would have preferred the latter, but instead, Ardra just shouted, "What is your problem with me?"

Cass was taken aback by that question; a million things jumped to her mind at once all shouting to be said first.  They tangled each other up, and Cass stood silent.  

"If you're embarrassed that I saved your life on the ship, get over it.  You think my life hasn't been saved by someone or a bit of dumb luck showing up in the nick o' time."  Ardra ranted pacing around clawing at her hair.  "And don't tell me it's cause you think there's somethin' goin' on between me and Rose.  That goober is like a sis to me, and I'm in love with Elsa!"  

Cas folded her arms at Ardra rant and rolled her eyes wondering how Ardra could think she cared so much about such things.  

Ardra seemed to calm down a little, her expression softening into something like remorse.  "I get that not everyone has to like me, but if you think I'm just an obnoxious cow then say so.  I mean yer friends like me so-"  

"Oh enough!"  Cass snapped finally finder her voice.  "I don't care how charming everyone finds you!  You want to know what I think about you well I'll tell you this; I know a charlatan when I see one."

The air grew heavy as the two women faced each other their eyes fierce, the veil between them had dropped Cass' statement, and all the implications were laid bare.  But they both knew that knowing was not saying and action should not meet implications.  Fidello watched as the pair stared each other down, but Angus' head swung into her vision, and he ushered her back.  

"You don't want to do this," Ardra warned her tone as cold as Elsa's magic.  

Most would have shivered at the sound of it, but a fire blazed in Cass, and she felt nothing else.  "I don't know what you're after, but I won't let you use the Queen to get it."

Ardra's hand shot to her sword and Cass' was only an instant behind.  Thay had never intended to use them on this ride, taking them was just a habit born of their training, one guided the other self-imposed.  It looked like Ardra wanted to draw it, but instead, her hand shook with the strain to keep it sheathed.  "Take.  That.  Back."  

Mercy, Cass grip tightened on her sword, Ardra was trying to show her mercy.  "Coward!"  Cass roared more like a beast than a person, and her sword screamed as she torn it from its sheath.  

[neakco]

Vixen & Crow Ch. 13

Ao3 First Prev Next V&C Masterlist

Where things take a dark turn for our heroes and it causes a fight, will their friendship survive?

Possible triggers in this chapter: Mild Blood. Accusing someone of rape, neglect, and murder. Hints of suicide.

If this effects you then please skip this chapter for your own health.

Tuesday rolled around and people were still trying to seduce invitations to the Waterfield Party out of Sebastian.

Amelia jumped in surprise when Sebastian finally snapped at them.

“I didn’t even get a say for the hostess! If you really want an invite than go flirt with my father’s assistant. Her number is on the website!” He joined Amelia at her table and began to focus on his lunch, regretting that they hadn’t made it to their table.

“Should I call Vanessa and warn her about the wannabe vultures.” Amelia asked.

“No, it was her idea for me to act angry in the first place.”

“Your father is extremely lucky to have her.” Amelia smiled, “Should I call after the wannabe vultures and warn them about Vanessa?”

Sebastian choked on his sandwich slightly. “Please do not deprive me of this small entertainment. Vanessa promised to record the conversations for me.”

She grinned, “Fine, but you are sharing the best recordings with me.”

 

Wednesday’s patrol had them exploring the slums When Vixen picked up a scent.

“It is fairly weak. I think it goes down this ally.” She pointed from their position on the roofs.

“Past the mugging?”

“Yes, past the....” Vixen cut herself off as Crow jumped down. “You could at least give a fox a warning.”

Crow kicked the knife away out of the mugger’s hands and landed, “That looks a little too much for you. Maybe try the rubber variety.”

The mugger went in for a punch, “Son of a...”

Vixen blocked the attack easily. “Seeing as how he is a crow; I find that highly unlikely.”

“Bitch!” We went in for another attack but crumpled as Crow kicked him in the side.

“She is a very vexing vixen, so I sadly cannot argue that one.”

“Really?” Vixen grabbed a discarded towel from the trash bins and began to cut it into strips with her claws in order to bind the mugger.

“Vixens are still female dogs of a sort.” Crow was helping the victim slowly stand back up. “Are you okay sir?”

“I, I think so.” The man was still quite shaken.

Vixen smiled kindly, “Come on sir, we will escort you to the main road and the police can meet us there.” She looked at her partner, “Crow?”

“Got it.” Crow picked the mugger onto his shoulders while Vixen grabbed the knife and helped the victim walk.

Coming up on the towards the main road Vixen smiled kindly again, “Police will meet you here Sir.” She then handed him the knife which she had wrapped in a discarded grocery bag, “They will want the knife for evidence.”

Crow dropped the bound mugger on the ground when they heard approaching sirens, “Stay safe sir.”

Crow and Vixen returned to the rooftops and continued to follow the scent.

“How did you call the police? You jumped in right after me.”

“Nathanial knows how to use a phone.” She smiled and gestured to the right, “Smell gets stronger this way.”

The scent led them to a rundown shack. Vixen circled around it a couple of times, “This is it.”

“What’s the plan?” Crow yawned.

Vixen yawned in reply, “There only seems to be one entrance.”

“Or you could both stop being silly and go home.” Gem clipped them with her wings as she flew past them quickly.”

“But?” Both Vixen and Crow protested.

“No!” Nathanial materialized next to Vixen. “It is 2 am and you need to function as civilians. The spirit is still weak. It will be here tomorrow.”

Vixen and Crow smiled tiredly and chanted, “Yes mother.” before heading in the direction of their beds.

 

Sebastian was reading the paper while waiting on Amelia before class when an article made him smile. It was talking about the dangers of vigilante justice and how dressing as a white or black animal themed hero does not protect you from bullets or the law.

Seeing Amelia he shoved the paper at her pointing towards the article. “What do you think?” I think it is pretty awesome if someone is actually willing to make a difference.”

Sebastian noticed an almost fond smile on her face as she read. “If someone wants to get themselves killed for something society will never remember them for than that is their choice.”

The words were harsh but her tone was almost fond. Sebastian couldn’t help but wonder what she was thinking about. “I wonder if these vigilantes are going to read this and what they will think.”

“How to know without asking them. The paper doesn’t even describe them properly.” Amelia shrugged.

Sebastian would ask Vixen when he saw her tonight.

 

“Good Evening Beanna Bàn.” Vixen smiled up at Crow.

“Evening Vexing Vixen. Did you see the paper this morning?”

She Starts to laugh, “The article about us? Yes. But what were we supposed to do, stand by and watch a man get killed for his wallet?” We would be no better than villains then.”

“I was hoping you felt that way.” Crow offered down an arm to pull her onto is light post. “Shall we go rescue a struggling soul?”

Vixen used his arm to start off her run, “Keep up Beanna Bàn.”

He caught up with her about a block away from the shack, “You sure the spirit is here? This place doesn’t look very lived in.”

“Yes, the scent lights the place up like a beacon.” She shuddered a bit. “It gives it an eerie glow through my eyes.”

“Front door?” Vixen nodded affirmative and he went to open it. “Guess I will go first than.”

Vixen quickly shoved Crow to the side and teleported herself away as a knife slashed the air where they had been.

The man was thrown off balance but continued his silent assault.

“It is quite dark in here; you could really do with some life.” Crow tried to focus on a weak point as he dodged and taunted.

Vixen stayed just behind him to drag him out of harm's way if he needed it.

“You would think you were preparing for a funeral. Open up your windows, get some plants. It will be a whole new shack.” He went to dodge again and the knife barely missed him instead slicing into his cape.

Pain shot through his whole system and Vixen had to throw him away from the fight as he froze.

“This body is mine now! I’m not giving it back!” The spirit within the man yelled.

“Sorry.” Crow muttered as Vixen started to circle the man like prey.

Her smile was crueler than Crow had ever seen before. “My turn now.” She quickly poked him and teleported out of knife range. “Did your wife leave you, lose your job? Did your kid die? Was your sister raped? Was your pet eaten? Brother mugged?”

Crow was shocked at the harsh words and tone coming from Vixen but had to admit she had gotten a reaction. “He didn’t like the comment on death.”

She move in closer while still dodging. “Ah, you killed someone. Was it greed, lust, neglect?”

“Neglect!” Crow spotted the weakness growing in the man’s heart.

“So your own needs were too important! You just couldn’t be bothered to care that someone relying on you was suffering!” Vixen’s voice was filled with venom.

The knife clattered to the ground as the man fell to his knees weeping. “I was studying to be a lawyer. Our parents are dead. All we had was each other. I wanted to get us out of here. It was my final year. I didn’t know she was suffering. I didn’t know.”

Vixen crouched down next to the man, her tone was softer and gentle now, “It isn’t your fault. You were working hard for her and she knew this. She kept her problems hidden so as not to bother you. You may never know why things happened like they did, but know it isn’t your fault.” She nodded to Crow as she stood back up. “You need to continue living. If not for yourself, than do it for her.”

Crow knocked the spirit from the man with a well aimed strike at his heart and sent it into Vixen’s waiting jar.

The man looked up, “I, I am sorry. I will try to live. Thank you.”

Crow and Vixen left quietly with the trapped spirit.

Vixen’s face crestfallen, “Can we get out of the slums first. Please.” Her ears and tailed drooped.

“I think I spotted a park to the west of here. He can summon the portal there.”

Even after sending it back they remained silent on the return trip to their home park.

Crow’s thoughts burst once landing though, “Why? Why did you have to be so cruel?”

“He hurt you and you weren’t getting through with light hearted taunts!” Vixen’s tail began to whip back and forth.

“You accused him of murder, of rape!” Crow winced slightly at his own tone. He blamed the pain he was feeling from his cape...wings? Capes should not hurt when torn.

Vixen slowly approached Crow and jabbed her claw in his direction without touching him. Tears glistened in her eyes; her smile seemed forced, an anger flowed off her in waves. “Because that is life in the slums! Some places are worse. You are lucky to be so ignorant!” Then, so quietly that Crow barely heard her she added, “I was lucky to have escaped.” Her eyes widened the moment the words left her mouth and she quickly took off running.

“Dammit Vixen.” Crow took off after her, the pain from his cape slowing him down slightly, “I am sorry. You are right, I am ignorant, I didn’t know.”

The chase went on for several minutes of him trying to apologize before she suddenly stopped, “Why do I smell blood?”

Crow didn’t dare glance at his ripped wing, if he did, he would wonder how the cape was bleeding. “I am sorry Vixen. I was lucky, but I was also incredibly lonely. So much that I didn’t even know it until around when I met you. I would like to think that after a month of night time escapades we are friends.”

Vixen was examining the red stained cape and trying to gently hold the pieces together. “Please sit. We are friends. I’m sorry too, I spoke harshly. I have some unpleasant memories that being in the shack reminded me of.”

Crow patted her back in a half hug since she was at the wrong angle for a full one. The he spotted Gem watching them, “Why didn’t you tell me the cape was part of me? I would have been even more careful.”

Gem looked as guilty as a crow could, “I didn’t know.”

Seeing that she wasn’t going to say more, Nathanial continued, “We have never had anyone embrace the transformation with their whole selves as you two do. In the past the cape has always been just a cape.”

Vixen took her tail in hand and stabbed it with one of her claws, “Ouch.” She then did the same to what she considered felt ears only to come back with a bit of blood on her claw. “You mentioned to me before that injuries we receive in costume should heal faster?”

Nathanial nodded but it was Gem that answered, “A wing puncture on a normal crow would take close to 7 days to heal, with the magic I would say three to four days for you fledgling.”

Vixen smiled and helped Crow stand before kneeling with her back to him, “Is there a park I can take you to that is closer to your home?”

“If we head North from here towards the richer part of town there is one.” He hated needing help, “I can probably make it.

Vixen looked at him over her shoulder, “No. You wouldn’t be in such bad shape if you weren’t chasing after me. Let me take some responsibility and help you.”

He climbed reluctantly onto her back, “You are a great friend Vixen. Thank you.”

She grinned, “Hold on.” She began to run on all fours. “Don’t you dare patrol tomorrow. We can meet up Sunday instead.” Vixen teleported them across a gap that was too far to jump. “No more flying for a bit.”

“But I need to fly a little to get back into my house.” he knew he was whining but didn’t care too much. “It is bad enough my tiny fox of a partner is giving me a fox back ride, let me have a little dignity.”

“Beanna Bàn, you are a crow riding on a fox’s back. I think it is my dignity that is lost.” She willed the smile into her voice, “If you are still injured Sunday let me know and we can postpone patrol until Monday or Tuesday.”

“The park is just on your right. I will be careful; I promise to get the cut disinfected and bandaged once I am home."

Vixen slowly let Crow off her back before taking off with a wave. “I will hold you to that promise Beanna Bàn.”

Crow climbed up a tree and winced as he prepared to take off. “Gem, Vixen doesn’t have much energy left, does she?”

Gem landed next to him, “What gave her away?”

“She enjoys teleporting too much to just run away on all fours.”

“Honestly, she is probably still feeling the effects of last week. Red also tells me that she is trying to conserve her energy a little bit more, just in case.” She flapped almost lazily towards his house, “Come on fledgling, let’s patch you up.”

So much research into avian injuries went into this. For the psychology research I only had to borrow a friend's text book. For this I needed access to a university library in order to access the medical research papers. So that was fun.