#these are all of the ships i can mentally stand

[dragonoftheshadows]

Discussion time!!

I agree that Tony's actions certainly weren't the best move BUT he had just watched his parents die and discovered that no, it wasn't an accident but the oldest pal of one of his best friends - a friend who had concealed it from him for months.

I'm pretty sure Tony was trying get Bucky into a prison or institution because there was a kill order on Bucky, which I don't blame him for. Yes, he is certainly not looking into the charges in the depth that Steve is, but he doesn't know Bucky, only how important he is to Steve and the fact that he was tortured for 70 years. The kill order is wrong (and Tony doesn't support it as far as I can see, the whole time he's pleading with Steve to come in so they can discuss peacefully) but he's right to be wary of Bucky’s mental state, whether the recent bombing had been his fault or not. They all know what HYDRA can do to people, who knows how much damage has been done to Bucky's mind?

I think part of why Tony overreacted is that Steve hadn't told him. Imagine not only having to watch the moment your parents died, but finding out they were murdered, and the guy who did it is standing right there, AND your teammate, your friend, concealed this from you for MONTHS. I, for one, wouldn't have reacted well.

Also, for the people in the notes saying that Tony's continued outburst was a choice, I'm not sure it was. I personally don't have anger issues or a lot of whatever mental issues Tony probably has or anything, but I can count a distinct number of times I've been so angry as to flip out at someone and just not have my brain come back online for several minutes. And NONE of those times were about anything as serious as this would be. I have no trouble believing that someone as stressed and primed by Zemo (because that this was a set up, remember) as Tony was could have such a reaction.

I'm a little biased because my favourite Marvel ship happens to be Winteriron so majority of my Marvel fics that I write have them work stuff out, but Steve WAS wrong not to tell Tony. It just happens that Tony was, too, with his reactions.

Team Iron man fans saying that Steve was wrong for not telling Tony that Bucky killed his parents but honestly, seeing how Tony handled finding out about it, I wouldn't have told him either. Tony was already willing to throw bucky into prison or an institution IMAGINE what he would've done if he found out bucky killed his parents while they still had him in custody. Steve was doing what he always has done, protect Bucky.

People openly supporting the revenge killing of a man who had NO control over his life for the past 70 years and wasn't even conscious for the majority of it because of something he did WHILE BRAINWASHED is insane to me.

(also please don't attack me I'm just stating my opinion TwT)

[jonathanbyersphd]

Also like I truly, really, honestly believe in my heart that it's necessary for Jonathan to leave so that Will can fully grow into his own person and finish his coming off age story but like y'all don't wanna hear me you just wanna dance

[marythebitchasscanary]

Total multishipper here but my primary is sonadow. Just gonna throw my hat into the ring.

So I have this theory. Sonamy reminded me a lot of the whole Naruto x Sakura anti debacle pre/early shippuden and other than pink girl I think it’s this.

1.) Girl is portrayed in a specific and at the time what was considered an empowering way while maintaining girlhood. 2000s wise.

Some of the innate problem with that is that it’s written by grown adults who are basing things off of tropes born in the 80-90s but maintain some status quo.

When an adult is writing kids for kids they tend toward silly and not taking kid’s emotions fully seriously. Such as love and crushes. Which leads into 2.

2.) Kids will look to the coolest representation of themselves and take what those characters say and do seriously, even if the adult writing it didn’t.

This I think is partly why the emo goth characters get a bombardment of love but that’s neither here nor there.

When you’re attached to a character early on it becomes The Best character and you want them to come out on top. You want their goals and dreams realized, nothing wrong with that, but blinders lead to clashes with other’s favorites. And younger fans, especially kids, will have the “my dad can beat up your dad” mentality with their favorites.

3.) In the case of Sonic, the first favorites (the starter pokemon if you will) are typically Sonic, Amy, and Shadow. These groups having such a range of ages will expose the newbies to fandom space to things they were not prepared for and ill equipped to deal with.

How do you deal with conflicting characterizations? What are ship wars? How does character criticism and character critique differ from character bashing?

While I love a good bash fic, there is a difference between using a stereotypical archtype for fun plot reasons and juat pumping villain(ess) evilness into a character you don’t enjoy. New fans, but specifically new to fandom fans will see abundance of content and not be able to navigate.

Sonic itself is a fandom that is many people’s first fandom. So it’s almost a testing ground for understanding how things work. Good and bad.

4.) Unfortunately for Amy, she gets the newest fans for shipping. Default heteroromance, as close to canon as a ship can get without committing, and a long standing base. The caveat is that because she and sonic are “baseline” romance and the wave of younger (but no longer new) fans to branch out to OCs or few steps removed canon self inserts realize their personas can date. In trying to create distance and reason for Amy not to date Sonic, the trope of obsessive girl or mean girl is used. Base girl is almost always ending up labeled as juvenile and cringey, reason one and two kinda feed into that.

Young fans who haven’t really learned kind internet etiquette then attack in the way they think is right.

Ideally they’ll grow out of it and learn not to engage but some just get stuck.

5.) Internalized misogyny. Pick me mindset wrecks young fans, they want an independence and coolness that the writers denied their reflection. It’s a whole other rant but it’s also self explanatory.

Some of this can be explained by the guys in the fandom, the whole “Amy is annoying” crap. Does not help anything

6.) Characterization division. Between crap translation and purposeful changing of intention and word use, the characters of Sonic have the disadvantage of inconsistency and weird stereotypes. Amy suffered some flattening from what I can tell, right as she was getting characterized. Her purpose was flat before but it kinda nipped her arc in the bud especially for english audiences.

It created a nasty rift. Really with all the characters but it seems to have hurt Amy the most.

Really what it comes down to though is people not being able to separate themselves from the bad habit of “my way or no way” and expecting there to be a singular path to enjoy in fandom. Fandom is for exploration, and canon isn’t the law. We need to be better 🙂‍↕️

Sonamy gets so much hate on Tumblr and I'm tired of pretending it's not

By few bad apples, specially on tiktok and Instagram all the community has to suffer from it

I can see how many fans who have Sonic x oc hate sonamy and Amy with a passion that have dedicated tags for "anti Amy" "Anti SonAmy" and make up it's comments by saying "I'm an Amy fan too" "I just care too much for characterization"

But majority of these users misunderstood Amy, fix their narrative to fits with their opinions, and you know for what? To make fun of fans who like the character and ship

I've seen how majority of sonelise fans also hate us, how majority of sonadow fans hate us, how majority of sonaze fans hate us, majority of sonally fans hate us. almost all Sonic's ships hate us.

Many say we sonamy fans "exaggerate" the bullying and just shows the lack of enpathy

Not all sonamy shippers are toxic people just like not all Sonic shippers are toxic

By few we have to suffer. Go to any tik tok about Sonamy and you would almost find a sonadow fan making fun of it.

I've seen how majority of users who dislike sonamy of had beef with them have say they like when sonamy fans get bullied or get "what they deserve" (not in a good way) of in general when the community gets as the punching bag they get happy.

Many have asked to get respected when their ship gest disrespected but the moment it's a ship you hate then that changes it🧐

Users complain that the Sonic ships sides is toxic but majority are not helping with it in anything. Many think that keeping with the cycle of hate will get things better but it keeps them WORSE

I've seen how many shippers hate us by "misunderstood" Amy or how we disgust them for hypocrecy but they are not the best people to say it when many users have spreed hate when people don't Get their pov's. Get mad when sonamy fans call out then or say something like "hey I don't agree with it" "UHH those sonamy fans are hypocrite and annoying Am I right?" :/

If you hate sonamy and Amy so much. Let it go. Better focus on what you like in Sonic. Better grow to keep your ship community to be healthy and strong 'cause the more You spend your time hating on something it can affects your health and how you interact with people inside and outside internet.

And you would say, why you keep talking about this? BECAUSE THEY TAG SONAMY AND AMY SO WE CAN SEE HOW MUCH THEY HATE THE SHIP AND THE CHARACTER 😅

I couldn't care for my non-ships as sonelise, sonadow, sonaze and sonally. You won't almost NEVER see me there 'cause I don't like tonsoend time on things i don't like for the sake of my mental healthy.

I've met beautiful and toxic fans of all these ships. I won't get all my energy in making fun of them or writing pretentious analysis about what's wrong with them

I will have fun in the sonamy tag and they can have fun with their ships

I don't vibe with those ship and considering them as anti or even hate them is wasting my time

Why would I want a Tag of my Anti ship being part of My Tumblr. Waste of time

I'm not defending toxic sonamy fans I defending fans who want to have a good time on the tag, who don't bother other fans. Fans who try to make better community

Cause Sonic shippers love to pointing us to resolve all problems but this is a work in community not individual.

We need to be better

[dinghyrudder]

Captain's log

June 24, 2023 CT1640

I'll possibly be doing another "stream" tonight if anyone wants to come hang out!

I'll be playing Minecraft on survival + peaceful in Shipwreck Bay again!

I plan on building a "lumber mill" (in looks only, not a tree farm)

And if I have enough time I'll move on to the "shipyard"

I'll maybe start around 6ish (about an hour)?

[defilerwyrm]

There’s this guy in town who owns this little house, and a while back he rescued a street dog that was going to get put down. Turned out she was pregnant.

Problem is, he has mental health & drug issues and couldn’t afford to get them all spayed & neutered, so now there are 6 grown bitches with 15 puppies total, and they’ve dug under his fence in multiple places but he can’t afford to fix it so they go roaming all around town. (When I say can’t afford it, I mean his house is currently running on a generator because he can’t afford his electric bill.) He’s also a day laborer so he cannot take multiple full days off work to take them to the vet an hour away. He’s in a really rough spot.

He’s not a bad person. He’s just overwhelmed.

And this little conservative town with 6 churches for 300 people, have they tried to help their neighbor? Have they adopted the puppies he’s been trying to give away? Have they offered resources?

NOPE! All they wanna do is talk shit about him and complain about the dogs but never lift a finger of their own. And they come to his house to yell at him and cuss him out about the dogs, which does not exactly engender in him a cooperative attitude, as you might imagine.

So after a while of this going on, my mom gets fed up with all the NIMBY bullshit and starts talking to the guy, because she’s done animal rescue for 20-odd years and has Connections. He’s resistant at first, but when he realizes she’s not being an asshole to him on account of his addiction or the dogs, he decides to let her help.

She gets to work organizing and networking. Finds a non-profit that will cover vaccinations, spay/neuter, and flea treatments for all the dogs. Talks the next-door neighbor into paying for materials to fix the fence, since this guy can do the work of it himself. Gets him in touch with another non-profit that will adopt out the adult dogs.

Less than 2 weeks after she decided to do something, all puppies have been to the vet, 10 puppies and 4 adult dogs have been adopted out, and the second non-profit is coming by next week to pick up the remaining 7 dogs to ship them out for adoption.

I’ve learned a lot of things from my mom—some good, some bad—but I think the most important positive message she lives as an example of is this: sometimes, when something needs done and no one else is willing, you gotta stand up and say “I’ll do it.”

[scruncheduppaper]

ultrakill fandom is gonna hate me for my opinions

I’m bored so I made a new shipping bingo ask game

[loonylupinblack3]

Period Trouble

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Reader

Warnings: swearing, nothing else i think?

Summary: you wake up with your period and are forced to go on a mission with Logan of all people

Word count: 2.4k

A/N: literally obsessed with this man rn so ofc i had to write about him. also wolverine has enhanced senses including smell but its like…. barely shown in the movies so i had to search it up to be sure, and some part of me still doubts it but for the purposes of this fic he does have it

You woke up with a groan, immediately curling into a ball. You were early. You were early and you hadn’t emotionally or physically prepared for having your period today, yet the world seemed ready to punish you, burdening you with an early cycle.

You checked the time, cursing every god and deity you knew when you realised you were supposed to have woken up half an hour ago. Wincing, you got up, your body screaming at the movement. Already your stomach was aching, the ghosts of cramps to come caressing your body. 

There was knocking at your door, quiet yet firm. You already knew it was Storm on the other side of the door, no doubt in search of a reason why you failed to get up on time. It was going to be a long day.

You yelled out to Storm, promising to be out in five minutes, and got up, groggily looking for your clothes. When you’d tamed your hair and brushed your teeth, you exited your room to find Storm waiting on the other side, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed.

She took one look at you and sighed. “What are you wearing?”

You looked down perplexed. “....my clothes?”

She raised her eyebrow. “You’re on a mission today, remember?”

Fuck. You nearly let out a whine. You were not in the mood to go skulking around doing Xavier’s bidding when you had a constant throbbing pain assaulting your stomach, unreasonable mood swings, and exhaustion weighing you down.

Storm sent you a questioning look. “You up for this?”

The mission was nothing big. Professor X needed you to collect some sort of rare herb that had recently been shipped into the nearest city, something he needed to complete a super secret experiment you weren’t privy to. He’d just asked for help and you’d volunteered.

Oh how you regretted that decision now.

“Yeah I’m fine,” you muttered. “Let me just get changed real quick.”

Getting into your previously decided upon outfit, a plain inconspicuous one intended to blend in, you left your room again, this time with no complaint from Storm. Your stomach gave an uncomfortable clench and you sighed, making a mental note to find some nurofen before leaving for the mission.

“Why aren’t you in your outfit?” you asked, just realising Storm wasn’t wearing what you two had agreed upon yesterday.

She winced slightly. “Can’t go. Filling in for some classes.”

Your face soured but you tried not to hold it against her. Storm loved her students, and given the choice of helping them or Xavier with a low level mission, she’d obviously choose her kids. You couldn’t blame her exactly, but it meant you’d have to go on this mission alone, while not impossible by any means it would make it slightly more difficult.

You sighed. “That’s okay. I can go alone.”

When Storm winced even more your eyes narrowed in suspicion, following her with caution. “Storm…..”

She sighed guiltily. “Xavier didn’t want you to go alone. The herb’s too valuable.”

You tilted your head slightly as you entered the house’s foyer. “So who am I going with then?”

Storm’s eyes darted ahead, and you followed her gaze to find Logan Howlett leaning against the wall, hands in the pockets of his jeans. He smirked at you, “you’re looking at him sweetheart.”

You resisted the urge to groan, instead sending Storm a dirty look. You didn’t necessarily dislike Logan, but he was a lot to deal with, and you were already tired from your day that had barely begun.

You couldn’t say all that with Logan standing there however, so you muttered a, “lovely,” and walked past the man to the garage.

He followed you silently, no quip or smart ass comment which was strange for him. You’d just entered the garage, heading towards one of the cars, when you glanced back at him and found Logan stopped in the doorway, staring at you with a frown on his face. Or rather, a deeper frown than usual.

“What is it?” you asked him, standing at the hood of the car.

Logan’s eyes roved your body, searching for something. “You’re injured.”

It was your turn to frown. “What? No I’m not.”

He took a step forward, almost as if he was planning on looking for your alleged injury himself. “Don’t bullshit me Y/n, I can smell your blood.”

You made a face. “What are you talking about…..” you trailed off when you realised it, perhaps the most mortifying moment in your life.

Logan could smell your period blood. He thought you were bleeding from an injury. 

You cleared your throat, feeling your cheeks heat up. “I’m fine. Let’s go.”

He scoffed, walking towards you until you were face to face. You tried to step back and felt the hood of the car against your legs. “I can smell the fucking blood seeping out of you Y/n. I wouldn’t call that fine.”

You gritted your teeth to stop yourself from snapping at him. “I can assure you, I am not injured.”

You moved to walk past him but he caught your wrist, forcing you back into your position pressed against the car. “If you think I am going on this mission with you while you’re wounded, you’re out of your mind.”

“I’m not-”

“Do you think I’m an idiot darl? Is that why you’re denying being hurt while I can literally smell it on you-”

You cut him off. “I’m on my period, Logan.”

He paused, staring at you with an indecipherable expression on his face. You waited for him to speak, feeling embarrassed and furious about it. Why should you be embarrassed of your period? He was the one who was pushing you, prodding you, forcing you to tell him the source of the bleeding. If your answer made him uncomfortable, that wasn’t your fault nor your concern.

Eventually he spoke. “Alright then. Get in the car. I’m driving.”

You scowled at him. “Says who?”

He didn’t even bother looking at you, already in the driver’s seat. “Says me.”

You sighed but didn’t argue further, silently getting into the passenger seat. Logan started the car, reversing it out of the garage and driving down the long winding driveway till you got to the street.

“It’s an hour's drive to the city, give or take,” you told Logan, setting the GPS up on the car.

Logan barely glanced at it, eyes on the road, a firm grip on the steering wheel. He didn’t even respond to you. You sighed and turned away, looking out the window as the scenery passed you in flashes.

As the drive continued, you noticed Logan sending you glances every now and then. If you really focused on them, you’d almost say they seemed worried, concerned even, but they were always too quick for you to tell for certain. You were too preoccupied with your cramps that had started up anyway, and the lack of nurofen you’d forgotten to grab.

Finally, you arrived at the city, driving into the hustle and bustle of the crowded area. Logan’s hand tightened on the steering wheel, obviously not a fan of the traffic the city provided. You watched the stream of people through the window as Logan looked for a space to park, muttering under his breath.

You were mildly entertained at the amount of road rage he had, cursing every car that wasn’t at least 10 metres over the speed limit. His jaw was clenched, hand fisting the steering wheel, yet he still looked at you here and there, like you were actually wounded.

When he eventually found a parking spot the two of you got out of the car and you looked at the address Xavier gave you.

“Should be somewhere along this street,” you murmured, eyes flicking from the piece of paper to the busy street.

Logan moved behind you, so close you could feel your back against his chest, and looked at the paper in your hand. He let out a grunt and moved past you, walking forwards. You frowned and hurried your pace, not wanting to lose him amidst the crowd of people.

Luck was certainly not your side, because soon enough you’d lost him, unable to see his black leather jacket in the throng of people. You hesitated, wondering if you should look for him or just go straight to the address, when you felt an arm around your waist.

“Stay close to me,” Logan murmured into your war, his voice gravelly. “Don’t wanna lose you again.”

You glanced at him as he continued walking, not moving his arm from your waist. “How’d you find me?”

He gave you a smirk. “Followed the smell of blood.”

Again you felt your cheeks heat but you glared at him defiantly, refusing to be embarrassed. He smirked at you, flashing his teeth, as you arrived in front of the address, a plain building home to some sort of florist. 

Logan finally took his hand from your waist, walking to the door with you trailing behind him. A bell gave a little jingle as you entered, and you were immediately assaulted with the smell of flowers. Different sorts of plants took up every corner of the room and Logan’s face soured as he looked around, obviously not pleased with the environment.

An old woman sat behind a desk, watering a plant with a mini watering can. You walked up to her, Logan hot on your heels. When you stopped in front of the desk Logan was so close behind you you could actually feel his chest against your back.

“Mrs May?” you asked.

The old woman looked at you with a smile, her eyes crinkling. “That’s me. What can I help you two lovebirds with? Bouquet of roses? Lilies?”

You opened your mouth, surprised, and tried to find something to say. Being mistaken for a couple shouldn’t have affected you so much, especially while on a mission, but you were flustered and could still feel Logan’s chest right against your back, his warmth almost dizzying.

“We’re not here for flowers unfortunately,” Logan spoke, saving you. Except why didn’t he specify you weren’t a couple? Did that not matter to him, what some old lady thought, or did he enjoy the idea of being thought of as your boyfriend?

Oh god. What were you thinking? Stupid period hormones. 

The old lady looked at you two curiously. “Then how can I help you?”

There was a pointed silence and you realised Logan was waiting for you to speak. You cleared your throat and spoke the random sequence of words Xavier had you memorise, that would inform Mrs May just what type of buyers you were.

The woman’s eyes lit up with recognition and she nodded her head slowly. “Ah, yes, let me just go to the storage room quickly, I’ll be back….”

Mrs May tottered around the desk and through a side door, half hidden behind the multitude of plants covering the area, leaving you alone with Logan.

You took a step away from him and turned around to look at him, finding him staring at you with a frown on his face.

You frowned back at him. “What’s up with you today?”

He raised his eyebrows at you. “What is up with me? I don’t know if you’ve noticed Darl but you haven’t exactly been up to par yourself.”

You rolled your eyes at his words. “That’s not what I meant, and besides, I’m on my period.”

Logan stared at you, arms crossed. “What did ya mean then?”

“You’ve been acting strange. Less talkative and annoying like usual.”

Logan snorted. “Ever the lady.”

“I’m serious. What’s up with you?”

Logan sighed and took a step forward until he was towering over you and you had to crane your head up to look at him. “You are what’s up. I can constantly smell you bleeding, and I can’t get it out of my mind that it means you’re hurt. You’re driving me crazy sweetheart.”

Well…. That certainly wasn’t what you were expecting. Logan smirked down at you as if he knew that, and enjoyed surprising you. You cleared your throat as your eyes darted to the floor. “Well, that’s hardly my fault.”

Logan chuckled. “Not your fault no, but it is your doing whether you mean to or not.”

You swallowed, looking back up at him. “Well…. Don’t you constantly smell when people are on their periods?”

“It’s different with you. Smelling your blood just drives me crazy, plain and simple. Can’t get the instinct out of my head that blood means injury.”

The way Logan was admitting all of this, with such calm, made you think he’d been wanting to say this for a while. The unspoken confession was there, and it was up to you to decide what to do with it.

“I’m glad you care,” was what you landed on, unsure of what else to say.

Logan chuckled again, one hand snaking to your waist. “I do a lot more than care, Y/n.”

You smiled softly, looking up at him. With his other hand he brushed your cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. The sound of a door closing brought you out of your little bubble and you took a step back, Logan reluctantly letting go of your waist.

Mrs May, either not having seen you two or graciously deciding to ignore it, passed you a package, informing you the herb and all information involving it was inside, and to handle it with care. You nodded and thanked the old woman before exiting the building, Logan again right on your heels.

As soon as the shop’s door closed behind you Logan’s hand was back around your waist. “Not losing you this time.”

You tried not to smile, though internally you were grinning like a maniac, and let Logan lead the two of you back to the car. You didn’t even get to argue your case of driving this time, Logan already in the driver’s seat. You sighed and got into the passenger seat, resigning yourself to another hour of silence as Logan started driving, when you felt his hand on your thigh.

You looked at him but he didn’t say anything, just gave it a light squeeze as he kept his eyes on the road. You looked away, grinning. So maybe the world didn’t have it out for you after all.

[kimoralov3]

daylight

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

description: steve has had a lot of trouble in his love life. but he's also one of the biggest idiots known to man because the girl of his dreams is standing right in front of him

warnings: swearing, reader uses she/her pronouns, everyone is a lil mean to steve, mentions of stancy (not like that), like i said steve is an idiot, slight angst, fluff

word count: 3059

a/n: tagging @arkofblake because this technically was smth that she requested before i changed it. also shout out to her mom for the knowledge about phones from the 80s lol

“Steve, you can’t keep staring at her like some sort of lost puppy.” Robin says as she helps Steve put some beer and sodas in the cooler.

“What are you talking about?” He asks as he turns back to the fridge.

“Oh please, you’ve been staring at Nancy and Jonathan ever since they got here.” Robin comments as she opens the bag of ice and clumsily dumps it into the small cooler.

“Have not.” Steve mutters as he shuts the fridge door. Robin gives him a look, the look she seems to be giving him a lot these days. “Okay, fine. I have been staring at them, but not for the reason you’re thinking.”

“Oh really? What other reason is there for you to be staring at your ex and her new boyfriend?” She says suspiciously.

Steve pauses, trying to find the words to express the tangled mess that is his love life. He eventually gives up, shaking his head as he grabs the cooler off the counter and walks outside to the pool. “I can’t explain it.”

“Oh come on, you gotta give me something.” Robin pleads, giving Steve her best puppy dog eyes.

Steve glances over at his best friend before quickly looking away. “Those don’t work on me.” He says definitely, but quickly gives in when he spares another glance at Robin. “Seeing them together just makes me think about all the things I don’t have.”

“Wow, that’s really sad.” Robin says solemnly as she holds the back door open for Steve. “You sure you don’t still have feelings for Nancy?” She adds after another moment of silence. 

“Absolutely positive, Robin. That ship sailed a long time ago.” He explains as he sets the cooler by the pool.

And he wasn’t lying. Steve really was over Nancy. Sure, there had been a time when he thought the two of them would evolve into something more, but that was ages ago. 

But now Steve was alone for the first time in years, and he wasn’t sure what to do with himself. He’d been on dates, but they’d turned more into a chore than something he was actually enjoying. They all left him feeling like a piece of him was missing, a piece of himself that he just knew was important. 

“Steve?” A voice called, pulling him from his well of self despair. 

“Yeah?” He says as he turns around, nearly falling over when he notices who’s in front of him.

“Can you move over so I can grab a soda?” Y/N asks politely as she gestures to the cooler behind Steve.

“Oh shit, yeah, of course.” Steve stutters as he moves out of the way, nearly falling into the pool. Y/N gives him an awkward smile as she grabs a soda before walking back over to sit with Jonathan and Nancy. 

“What was all of that about?” Dustin asks as he appears beside Steve, munching on some Goldfish.

“Jesus kid, you need to wear a bell or something!” Steve exclaims as he presses a hand to his fast beating heart. 

“Or maybe you just need to be more observant.” Dustin says mockingly as he flicks a Goldfish at Steve’s face, causing the older male to swat at him.

“Will you two quit it!” Robin says as she separates the two of them. Dustin flips Steve off before going to go sit back with the party and Suzie. 

“I swear that kid has no manners.” Steve mutters to himself as Robin walks away to go sit with Eddie and Chrissy. Steve is so busy mentally planning out his revenge against Henderson that he doesn’t notice a certain someone staring at him like he’s hung the moon and the stars.

—

“Robin, you seriously need glasses or something. How could you put Ferris Bueller and Top Gun in the same section?” Steve complains as he removes the tapes from the shelf.

“Oh quit being a baby and move them, I’m busy here.” Robin calls from the back. Steve rolls his eyes, muttering something under his breath as he moves to the back of the store to grab his cart. 

“I’ll be with you in a minute!” He says when the front door rings. He sets the missorted tapes on a random shelf as he walks back up to the front counter.

“Welcome to Family Video, how can I help y— Y/N?” Steve asks, shocked to see her here.

“Oh, hey Steve. I forgot you worked here.” She says with a laugh as she adjusts her bag on her shoulder. Effortlessly, and beautifully to him, if anyone cared enough to ask what he thought. Which was a rarity. 

Steve gives her a small smile, silently cursing himself for not taking his normal amount of care when he was getting ready this morning. 

Robin really needs to learn some patience.

“Yeah, have been for a while.” He says as he rubs the nape of his neck. “So, what can I help you with today?” 

“Well, my parents are out of town so it’s just me at home. Figured I’d get some movies to keep myself occupied for a while they’re gone.” She explains as she looks around the store before her eyes land on Steve once again, causing a shiver to run down his spine. “Got any recommendations for me?”

“Of course, walk with me.” He says, shooting her his signature smile as he walks over to the staff picks shelf. 

“Is that Labyrinth?” Y/N asks with a chuckle as she picks it up and inspects the back.

Steve groans, rolling his eyes as he sees the movie. “Fucking Eddie. He must’ve snuck it onto the shelf when he was here earlier.”

“Well, he has good taste. Think I’ll be taking this one with me.” She says as she waves the box. Steve can’t explain it, but he feels a small tightness in his chest. 

“To each their own, I guess.” He says with a shrug, trying to ignore this strange feeling. “Anyways, I would definitely recommend these if you’re looking for a more calm night in.” 

Steve hands over The Goonies, The Muppets Take Manhattan, and Back to the Future, waiting patiently for a reaction. 

“Oh my god, is this a Muppets movie?” She asks with a laugh, inspecting the box. “My little cousin loves this movie.”

“Hm, I don’t know how I should feel about that. Are you calling my cinematic taste childish?” Steve asks with a chuckle as he leans against the shelf.

“I would definitely call it that.” Robin says, wheeling a cart as she walks past the two of them. Steve glares at her while Y/N snorts, hiding her smile behind her hand. 

“I wasn’t going to say that it was childish. I was going to say that it’s…interesting.” She explains, her voice pitching up on the last word. 

Steve scoffs at that, shaking his head. “Sure, we’ll go with that.” He says jokingly. “So, will this be all for you?”

“Uh, yeah. This should be good enough for the weekend.” She says as the two of them walk back to the front counter. 

“Glad to be of service.” Steve says as he takes a small bow, cursing himself for how stupid he probably looks. 

“You know, you’re really funny.” Y/N says as Steve rings up the movies. Steve smiles softly, more affected by her words than he would like to admit.

“Could you tell Robin that? She says I have the humor of an old man.” He jokes as he puts the tapes into a bag. Y/N snorts again, this time a little louder. 

“See what I mean? Very funny, Harrington. Very funny.” She says as he hands her the bag. There’s a brief moment of silence before Y/N speaks up again. “Do you wanna come over tomorrow? You know, watch a movie with me or something?” She asks nervously. 

Steve’s mouth hangs open a little, blinking slowly. There was no way he heard that correctly. “You want me to come over?” 

“Yeah. Only if you want to, of course.” She clarifies quickly. 

“Of course I wanna come. I’ll even bring some snacks.” He says as he leans his arms on the counter. 

Y/N smiles at that, nodding her head. “Perfect. I’ll see you tomorrow then.” She says, giving Steve one final wave before leaving. 

“Man, you are such a doofus.” Robin says as she comes up behind him. 

“Can you not?” Steve says as he turns around to face her. Robin smirks, winking at him before walking away. 

—

“You did what?” Eddie asks with a laugh as he stops strumming on his guitar.

“Don’t laugh at me, I need your help here!” Steve says as he throws his soda can at Eddie.

“Hey, careful! This is my most prized possession.” Eddie says as he throws the can back at Steve, missing him entirely. “Now, tell me exactly what happened.”

“Y/N invited me over, and I went because of course I would, you know? And everything was going really well, at least to me.” Steve explains as he leans back against Eddie’s dresser. 

“Okay, doesn’t sound too bad so far. What happened after that?” Eddie says as he turns the knobs on his guitar. 

“Then I thanked her for inviting me and left.” Steve says simply. Eddie abruptly stops what he’s doing, setting his guitar down on his bed.

“You did what now?” Eddie exclaims as he stands from the bed, causing Steve to look up at him. 

“Left. Why, what’s wrong?” He asked, very confused by Eddie’s sudden outburst. 

“You’re a fucking idiot, that’s what’s wrong.” Eddie says as he grabs Steve’s arm and hauls him into the living room. “Stand right there.” 

Steve grumbles something under his breath as he rubs his arm where Eddie had grabbed it. “Since when are you strong?”

“Amps are heavy as shit man. Now shush.” He says as he dials a number on the phone. Steve mutters something about Eddie being rude as he watches him press the phone to his ear. 

“Who are you calling?” Steve asks, only to be shushed by Eddie. Steve rolls his eyes, watching as Eddie waits for the person on the other end to pick up. 

“Hey Y/N! Do you have a moment to talk?” Eddie says when the person on the other end picks up. Steve automatically stands up straighter, listening closely to try and hear what Y/N was saying. 

“— Not in the mood—” Is the only thing that Steve can make out from here, causing him to frown. Was Y/N really that upset with him that she didn’t want to talk to anyone?

“Just humor me, please? What exactly happened yesterday with Harrington?” Eddie asks as Steve gets closer to the phone.

“I did what you and Robin told me to and asked Steve out, and absolutely nothing happened. I even tried scooting closer to him to see if he would catch the hint, but he didn’t! And then when it was time for him to leave, I went to kiss his cheek and he hugged me, Eddie. He hugged me!” Y/N rants from the other end of the line. “So either everyone is bullshitting me and Steve Harrington actually isn’t into me, or he’s the most oblivious man on the face of the planet.” 

Eddie gives Steve a knowing look as he says his goodbyes before hanging up the phone. “See? Idiot.”

Steve bangs his head against the wall as Eddie pats him pitifully on the shoulder. “So you mean to tell me that yesterday was supposed to be a date?” He finally says when he’s done with his attempt to knock some sense into himself. 

“It was a date. Could you honestly not tell?” Eddie asks as he crosses his arms over his chest. 

“No! I just thought that she was trying to be nice!” Steve says as he slides down the wall. 

“Man, can’t believe this. Former king of Hawkins High is sitting on the floor of my trailer, having a crisis because he blew a date with a pretty girl.” Eddie says as he shakes his head. Steve doesn’t even bother responding, sitting there with his head in his hands. “So, are you going to try and fix it or not?”

“What do you mean?” Steve asks as he finally looks up.

“God, since when did I become the smart one here?” Eddie asks in mock disappointment. “You need to go back over to Y/N’s and make everything right.” 

“How am I supposed to do that? I think you of all people should know that I’m not good with this stuff.” Steve said as he stood up. Eddie groans, rubbing his hands over his face. 

“My god, Harrington. You’re hopeless.” He says. “Here, I’ll tell you exactly what to do.”

Under any other circumstance, those words would’ve sent fear straight into Steve’s heart. Especially coming from someone like Eddie. But he was desperate, and desperate people don’t always make the smartest decisions. 

—

Steve stands outside of Y/N’s door, her favorite flowers in hand. He stands there for a moment, mentally going over everything that Eddie told him to say. He takes a deep breath before giving up and knocking on the door.

It’s silent for a moment before Steve hears the sound of footsteps on the other side of the door. The door opens up to reveal Y/N standing there, arms over her chest.

“What do you want, Harrington?” She asks coldly. Steve gulps at that, rocking back and forth on his feet a little. Guess I deserve that a little.

“I just came here to apologize. For yesterday.” He says as he holds out the bouquet of flowers. Y/N hesitates before taking the flowers from him, smelling them quickly.

“What exactly are you apologizing for?” She asks after a moment.

“For being an idiot. If I had known that you wanted yesterday to be a date, I would’ve handled things a lot differently.” Steve explains as he nervously shoves his hands in his pockets.

“Different? Different how?” She asks as she leans against the doorframe. Steve pauses, trying to think of the best way to say what he wanted to say.

“Can I come in? I think it would be better.” He asks as he scratches his head. Y/N gives him a suspicious look before stepping aside and gesturing to the living room. Steve mutters a small thank you as the two of them walk into the living room and sit on the couch. 

“So, what exactly is it that you would’ve done differently?” She asks as she sets the flowers on the coffee table. 

“For starters, I wouldn’t have let our first date just be us watching a Muppets movie on your couch.” Steve says in a joking tone, fidgeting with his hands in his lap. “If I had known, I would have taken you out to dinner. Hell, if you really wanted I would’ve taken you to go see one but god I would not have gone to go see a freaking kids movie.”

“Why, what’s wrong with kids' movies?” Y/N asks teasingly, causing Steve to laugh for the first time since he got there. 

“I guess you’re right.” Steve says as he turns to face Y/N. “Can we get a do over date? I promise that this time I won’t act like a complete idiot.” He says sincerely. Y/N seems to mull it over for a moment before looking up at Steve.

“Promise?” She asks softly, as if she was still hurt and embarrassed from what happened the night before. 

“Swear on my life. And you know if I break it, I’ll have Nancy, Robin, and Eddie on my ass about it.” He adds jokingly, but it isn’t really a joke. He had seen first hand how scary Nancy could be when she was upset, and he did not want to be on the receiving end of her wrath. Again. 

“Fine. But I’ll need you to ask me properly.” She says after a longer moment of consideration, sitting up straight against the back of the couch.

“Fine by me.” Steve says as he stands up, pulling Y/N with him. They give each other small smiles before Steve clears his throat dramatically. “Y/N, I’ve had feelings for you for a while now. Longer than I would personally like to admit. So, will you do me the honor of going on a date with me?” 

Y/N stands with their hand on their chin, looking off into space as she pretends to think long and hard about Steve’s offer. Steve starts to get nervous that she might actually reject him when she leans up, pressing a quick peck to his cheek. “Of course I’ll go out with you, Steve.” 

Steve feels the heat rush to his cheek at Y/N’s actions, looking down at them with the biggest grin in the world. “You know, technically we’ve already had our first date. So it wouldn’t be completely insane of me to kiss you, would it?” He asks as he steps closer to her. 

Y/N lets out a chuckle before responding, her hands behind her back. “No, no. I don’t think it would be completely insane, as you put it.” 

That’s all the permission Steve needs before he pulls Y/N closer by her hips, their lips slotting together perfectly. He feels more than hears her sigh into the kiss as she raises her arms to wrap them around his neck. 

When they both pull away for air, Steve swears he can see all the stars in her eyes. “That was…”

“Wow, how many girls can say that they took Steve Harrington’s breath away after a single kiss?” She asks teasingly, although it was easy to tell by the heat of her cheeks that she was just as — if not more — affected by the kiss as Steve was. 

Steve rolls his eyes, which was seeming to become a common practice for him these days. “Way to ruin the moment.”

Y/N shrugs, giving Steve one of her award winning smiles. At least they were in his mind. “What can I say, it’s one of my many special talents.”

[wileycap]

Crackfic Idea:

30-year-old Zuko gets randomly flung back in time to his 16-year-old self. For a couple of hours at a time. At the most random times imaginable. Imagine the potential.

Zuko assumes that it's a dream or a vision, but definitely not real. He tries not to freak everybody out too badly, but he's also fully enjoying himself and seeing all of his friends as their young selves.

ZUKO, as he and Aang circle each other at the South Pole: I've spent years preparing for this encounter. Training, meditating. You're just a [Spirit Shwoop Sound] ... baby Aang!

AANG, confused: Well, more like preteen Aang. How do you know my name?

ZUKO, looking around: Wait, where are we?

AANG: Um... this is the-

SOKKA: Don't answer him! He's trying to get information out of you. You can't give away our location!

KATARA: Sokka, he's standing in the middle of our village. I think he knows.

ZUKO: We're here? This is so weird. I was just here for the Annual Penguin Race.

AANG: THERE'S AN ANNUAL PENGUIN RACE?!

ZUKO: Well, yeah, it was your idea... you gave a whole speech about cross-cultural cooperation and friendship, but I know you just wanted to go penguin sledding with a bunch of people...

AANG: Well, I-

SOKKA: Stop giving him more information! He already knows about the penguins!

Everybody else is confused, bewildered and even befuddled except for Iroh, who assumes that it's Spirit Shenanigans™️ and just fully accepts that his nephew likes tea and hugs and Pai Sho sometimes while being his usual shouty surly traumaball self at others.

ZUKO, stepping into the cabin: Hi, Uncle. I brought you some ginseng. How about a game of Pai Sho?

IROH, tearing up a little: I would love that, my nephew.

ZUKO: I wish we could do this more often, but you live so far away...

IROH, mentally calculating that he lives exactly three doors away from Zuko, and nodding sagely: The rat-viper may never climb the mountain that a hog-monkey can, but the monkey does not know what lies underneath it.

ZUKO, sighing sadly: I know, Uncle. I do appreciate my position in life, even if it has disadvantages.

IROH: Hmm. Your move, nephew.

The crew of Zuko's ship is terrified by the fact that whenever it happens, Zuko is somehow even more hyper-competent, seems to be weirdly calm about everything, and most unnervingly of all, he's polite.

SOLDIER: Here is a report on the best teahouses within three days travel of our current location, Sir. And, uh, Commander Zhao sent a messenger hawk.

ZUKO: Excellent. Thank you very much, Sergeant. I think we can ignore whatever Zhao has to say. In reply, I want you to send him a list of the most famous officers in Fire Nation history, and point out that none of them had sideburns. I want to see if he shaves them.

SOLDIER, sweating nervously: O-of course, Sir.

As a matter of fact, the whole fic could just be Zuko trolling Zhao. It would be glorious.

[raining-anonymously]

sorry but i NEED to talk about how heavily curly is implied to have poor mental health.

in our first scene as him, he’s spacing out, staring off to the side, despite actively being in conversation with anya. this could very well be dissociation.

anya then says that she wishes he would open up more. this is in the context of a psych evaluation, so the implication is that she believes curly is holding back mental/emotional struggles.

the whole blood lake scene. i personally didn’t interpret that as a diegetic hallucination, but it still certainly speaks to curly’s mental health! yes, it’s supposed to be a red herring over the cause of the crash and has all sorts of symbolism to do with the wider story, but i believe it’s meant to represent an anxiety attack, which is repressed when curly reaches the cockpit in the white void. the sudden build-up of noise and anxiety-inducing visuals feels a lot like my own anxiety.

“standing on the edge of a bridge with your feet in cement.” this an interesting line that i’ve seen a lot of interpretations of, but in my mind it implies suicidal ideation. yes, “feet in cement” brings up cement shoes, which are traditionally a murder method, but “standing on the edge of a bridge” has heavy implications of jumping off. curly does not deny jimmy’s assessment of him whatsoever. it’s interesting that this is coming from jimmy, who is shown in multiple scenes pre-crash to be attuned to curly’s emotional state enough to recognize when he’s distressed before anyone else. (edit: jimmy calls back to this statement when he’s planning on crashing the ship, saying he “gets it now” and furthering the implication that he believes curly is suicidal.)

“i’m just working on my life being a place i don’t have to fucking escape!” generally, people who are emotionally and mentally healthy do not feel the need “to fucking escape” their lives. this is also the ONLY time in the game that curly raises his voice at jimmy (edit: forgot about “what the fuck did you do?”).

curly has another weird anxiety musical sting while cutting the cake.

while heading to jimmy in the final sequence before the crash, curly has his least subtle anxiety attack, with his heart audibly pounding in the soundtrack. after jimmy leaves, curly can be heard breathing heavily to calm himself down.

curly’s “take responsibility,” “kills 99% percent,” “take care of it,” “system failure,” and “safety” flashes come across as bursts of anxiety.

he shuts down during intense conversations, which— apart from being a sign of trauma/abuse— can be a sign of anxiety or dissociation.

he has serious trouble sleeping, which can often be wrought by anxiety, depression, and other mental health issues.

[ceilidho]

fear of god

There's someone outside the spacecraft. You don't remember them being part of the crew. Part 6 masterlist

-

The interior door slides open when Gaz pulls down the lever on his side, fitting into the recesses in the wall until there’s nothing between you. He’s the same and yet entirely different with nothing separating the two of you; more corporeal, undeniably flesh and blood. You can feel it now—the heat of another body in close proximity.

His stare penetrates you to the root, eyes so dark that you can’t look away. It’d be easy to get lost in them, like falling into a black hole, body stretching out into infinity, even the smallest subatomic parts of you torn apart. Expressive eyes, the kind you might look at and think that there’s someone behind them worth knowing. But the sharp angularity of the intelligence there makes your skin crawl. 

Farah finds her voice before you do. “Who are you?”

Gaz breaks his stare to glance at her, his frozen smile suddenly warming. “We haven’t met; I’m Gaz.”

When he holds out his gloved hand, Farah only looks at it instead of taking it, disbelief warring with her common sense. You wish you could hear the thoughts running through her head. 

“You can see him too?” you whisper to her.

Her head snaps in your direction, dark brows already furrowed. “Of course I can. What are you talking about?”

It’s perhaps impossible to explain without making yourself sound insane. More insane, in any case. But with the proof in front of you now, you can’t deny any longer that Gaz is real; that after days spent worrying about the state of your crumbling mental health, the very cause of your concern now stands before you, witnessed by someone else. You’d laugh if you didn’t feel faint. 

Because he is real—all six feet and two inches of him. Close enough to reach out your hand and touch. His skin looks buttery soft; if you were a foot closer, you’d almost be tempted to take his hand if only to see if your fingers would pass through.

Without warning, the intercom suddenly crackles to life again and a familiar voice blares from the speaker. “Panel secure. Headed back now.”

The sound of Nikolai’s voice sends a jolt of electricity up your spine. Even Gaz glances over his shoulder at the door and the vastness of space behind it. There’s nothing there, but his thickly accented voice asks for confirmation and you know it must be him, not a trick of the comms system. You stumble back until you hit the wall behind you.

“Kolya?” you hear Graves respond sharply, his voice still carrying through the ship over the intercom. “Shit, is that you? Do you hear me?”

“Черт побери. Yes, I hear you, mother hen,” Nikolai laughs in response. His laughter is a crisp, hollow sound over the intercom, like crackling blue electricity. “On my way back now. No need to pluck all your feathers out.”

His nonchalance is, frankly, unreasonable for the amount of time elapsed since he last checked in with the crew. 

A whole body comes into view this time, an astronaut waving to you through the window of the exterior door. Even from the other side, you can tell it’s Nikolai, the sheer size of him apparent. 

“Alhamdulillah,” Farah breathes, pulling the lever down for a second time to initiate the return sequence. 

Like deja vu, you watch as the first set of doors open and Nikolai slowly makes his way into the airlock one slow step at a time, the man looking no worse for wear. Beside you, Farah whispers something that you miss. The doors slide shut noiselessly behind him, and again you watch as a man in a spacesuit undergoes repressurization, the tensing of his shoulders making his discomfort with the process apparent. 

He already has his helmet off before the second door even opens. “Like I said, easy peasy. Can someone get me a coffee now?”

It’s almost too much for you to digest in such a short period of time, your emotions slingshotting between losing Nikolai and finding a strange man floating in the middle of space and then hearing the Russian man’s voice again like nothing happened. Lost time, or gained time. 

He must pick up on the way you and Farah simply gape at him in stunned silence.

“Something the matter?” Nikolai asks, a thick caterpillar eyebrow arched. A second later, he registers the other man in the hallway and grins. “Ah, you met Gaz. Nice guy, huh?”

“You know him?” Farah asks, her incredulity apparent.

“We met outside. I sent him in to get warm.”

You’re properly dumbfounded now, staring at Nikolai with abject disbelief for giving someone permission to board the ship without the commander’s permission. 

The footsteps of your commander and his second echo as they race down the hallway from the cockpit, the metal clunking under their boots. Louder and louder until they reach you, coming to a halt just a few feet away.

“Didn’t think I was gone that long,” Nikolai murmurs, stripping out of his spacesuit at the same time. Without a word, Farah helps him tuck it back into the storage locker he originally took it from. 

The two men stalk forward the remaining distance and when you look over at Graves, you can see the worry and relief writ large across his face, his attempts at concealing his emotions only partially successful. 

“What the fuck happened?” Graves barks, his expression stern until his eyes land on Gaz standing peacefully in the middle of the corridor, and then something shifts. A brief uncertainty clouding the pale blue of his eyes. “Who’s this?” 

Gaz lifts a gloved hand in greeting. “Name’s Gaz.”

“Found him outside wandering around,” Nikolai booms, slinging an arm over Gaz’s shoulders in an obvious show of fondness. “Poor bastard couldn’t find his crew.”

“Just wandering around in the middle of nowhere?” Graves asks, cocking a brow, skepticism thick in his words. 

Gaz smiles sheepishly. “It’s my fault. I got a bit turned around.”

Graves hums, mulling over the information. “…Turned around, huh?”

“Yes, sir. Looked away for a second and then my group was gone.”

“That doesn’t sound pleasant at all.”

“No, sir. Not at all.”

His deference is second to none. You could almost imagine yourself believing him, swept away by concern for his welfare. 

There’s a difference though. You’ve had the benefit of several days of acclimation. 

“Sir—commander,” you interject, swallowing when Graves turns his attention on you, the microexpression that flits across his face betraying his displeasure at being interrupted. “I’m sorry, but this makes no sense. I don’t see how…well, how he could have survived out on his own. I mean—” Your eyes flick towards Gaz. “I’m sorry, but none of this makes any sense to me.”

Graves’ lip curls up. "What doesn't make any sense?"

"Well, should we have brought him in? This just doesn't seem like protocol—"

“I don’t get your point, doctor. Should we have just left him out there to die? I thought you had that whole Hippocratic oath to uphold.”

None of this makes any sense to you. Apart from Farah, they’re being entirely too cavalier for happening upon a man in the middle of nowhere. There should be talk of heading back to Earth or quarantining him in the brig. 

“It’s not about that,” you croak. 

“I don’t understand you, doctor. You of all people should want to help.”

But he’s the man I’ve been seeing for days, you almost scream, but the blatant disapproval in Graves’ eyes makes you hold your tongue. You know your instincts aren’t wrong. Basic science isn’t wrong. Even if his spacesuit were able to provide basic environmental protection and life support, the longest a human might be able to survive after becoming untethered from their ship would be just under nine hours. 

You don’t know why this isn’t registering as strange to any of them. They act as though there’s nothing at all unusual about a man floating in space without any spacecraft within fifty million miles of him. As if this were just something that happened from time to time, and not an unprecedented anomaly. 

“Well, you could probably do with some shut eye after your trip, I reckon,” Graves says, clamping a hand down on Gaz’s shoulder and giving it a light squeeze. “We have a spare bunk near mine—bit cramped, but I’m sure you’ll make do.”

Gaz tips his head in thanks. “I’d appreciate it.”

“And—sorry, forgot to ask, but are you good? Not feeling faint or sick or anything? I know our doctor’s a little prickly, but whatever you need, she can help with.”

The weight of Gaz’s gaze makes your body feel leaden. 

“All good for now,” he says, still smiling serenely. His stare never wavers, smile never dips. “But don’t worry, love. I’ll come find you when I need you.”

Nikolai’s arm drops from his shoulder and Graves leads him off down the corridor to recuperate in his new room. The scream is buried in your throat; if you try to cough it up, only blood and mucus will come out. 

You can only watch helplessly as they walk away, Farah gone by the time you remember to look for her. 

After that, hours pass by without any sight of the man who recently boarded your ship. You don’t see much of anyone in fact. Hadir eats lunch around the same time as you, but his conversation is oddly circulatory, muddled, like he can’t keep his thoughts straight. He mentions the same thing twice and doesn’t seem concerned when you politely remind him that he already told you. He also doesn’t seem to register your words when you tentatively broach the subject of Gaz’s sudden appearance. 

Hadir shrugs, seemingly unconcerned. “Better for us anyway. Could be nice to have another warm body around here.”

“Don’t you…don’t you remember what I told you the other day?” you prod, pushing your potatoes around with your fork, your stomach in knots. “When I told you I saw someone outside?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s who I was talking about,” you whisper, as if concerned about being overheard. “I saw Gaz out there. He must have been out there…for days at least.”

“Ah,” he says, mildly contemplative. “Funny, that.”

The conversation feels like a dead end because it is, and you abandon it not long after when you realize that though Hadir is responding to your words, he doesn’t seem to be understanding them. It’s like you’re talking to an automaton, something designed to give you a response but not engage like a human would.

Even that thought seems wrong somehow. You shouldn’t be thinking those kinds of things about your coworkers. 

Back in the medical unit, you pick up the stool that fell to the ground on your way out earlier and take a seat, sipping periodically at the ice cold coffee still sitting on the table. Your mind goes blank for some time. Different than earlier though—not the blankness of concern and paranoia, but the blankness of complete stupefaction. 

It gives you some time to think, but no matter how many times you run through the events of the day in your mind, you keep coming back to the same questions. The same questions with no answers. 

Appetite a no show, you figure it’s better to just retire to your quarters for the evening. 

In bed, you read the same paragraph of your book three times before it sinks in. You can’t concentrate on anything. The same phrase on a loop, your real thoughts swarming like locusts and drowning out the narrator in your head. 

A knock at your door startles you, accidentally making you crinkle a page of your book with your thumb. You bite back a curse, smoothing the page out and calling out a frustrated one second when the person on the other side of your door knocks again. Impatient much. 

You open the door, expecting to find Graves or Nikolai on the other side, only for you to balk when you’re met with the sight of Gaz towering over you, his forearm braced against the doorframe. 

“Hi,” he says after a beat of silence. 

“…Are you lost?” you ask suspiciously. 

“No. Thought I’d stop by before I turn in for the night.”

Something occurs to you the longer you stand so close to him. It’s been lingering in the back of your mind since the interior doors to the airlock slid open and he boarded the ship, a thought hidden under its own afterbirth, placenta and membranous fluid soaking the ground beneath it. A thought that, to this point, has escaped your notice, hiding away like a prey animal. 

And it’s that: Gaz doesn’t have a smell. When you inhale, he doesn’t smell like anything you’ve ever smelt before. No lingering traces of body odour or sweat or soap. You breathe in and it’s like you’re standing in front of an empty doorway staring out into the empty hallway. 

But he does have a scent. 

It doesn’t register to your nose, not a scent that your olfactory senses can detect. Nothing like that. Instead it hits you like a memory, like a feeling blooming in your chest. Palo santo and orange blossom; the sound of a tennis ball hitting a racket; an aerial view of an Olympic pool and someone swimming laps, their body stark against the blue; white florals and a masculine voice laughing. 

His scent is a delicious rush of wonder and elation, a dopamine spike. You crane your neck to meet his eyes and honestly you’d forgotten how beautiful he is. An Adonis; over six foot and body corded with muscle. Lean waist and wide shoulders. The most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen, sculpted from something divine, a substance not found on Earth but in a more heavenly realm. 

You rock forward on your heels, pulled like a magnet towards his lips. His lips gently part, anticipating yours before they’ve even met.

Your hand hits the wall and reality comes back to you. Solid metal under your feet and an aluminum composite under your hand. White, sterile walls. In the hallway, the lights dim as the night cycle commences. You have to physically shake your head to rid your mind of any thoughts of Earth. It’s still there though, on the periphery of your senses; a dream world that you might get lost in if you were to look for too long.  

Something is very wrong. 

You rest back on your heels and move your hand until it hovers over the button to close your door. 

“Unless you’re sick, I can’t help you.”

“I’m not sick, love.”

“Then what do you want?” you bite out, overtly hostile now. 

He smiles but he doesn’t blink. Then his eyes flick up, studying the room behind you, his gaze roving over the walls and furniture, scrutinizing your space. Examining the clothes strewn over your bed, the little knick knacks and oddities that make your room yours. 

“Just wanted to see what it looked like from the inside,” Gaz finally says, and your blood goes cold. 

With that, he pulls his forearm off the doorframe and straightens to full height. 

He makes it a few feet away from your door before turning around to look back at you. “Night, love. See you in the morning.”

[quarterlifekitty]

Can we pretty please have König with the secret baby trope?

/)/)

( . .)

( づ♡

I offer a little bunny as a bribe [I really hope it works and doesn’t end up misshapen lol]

Bunny looks good to me…. I accept

So in this, I imagine that you were something of a friends with benefits to him. While it wasn’t a sugaring situation, he did insist upon treating you to a nice dinner whenever you met up. When he’d come home on leave, he’d reach out, you’d meet up and fuck, and eventually he’d ship back out and the cycle repeated.

Truthfully, he’d been planning on trying to make things less casual for a long time. He’s not the kind of person who can fuck someone repeatedly and not fall in love, as much as he tried to be when this began. He decided that on his next leave, he would tell you.

He didn’t expect his next leave to be as far away as it turned out to be. While he is within his rights as a mercenary to decline extending his time on the job, he often doesn’t. He’s a workaholic and one of the small number of people at KorTac with no family to speak of, so he often takes on the burden staying on longer when needed. The time gets away from him. He’s gone longer than a year.

He comes back, anxious about where he stands with you. What you had hadn’t exactly been exclusive, and it’s hard to believe that you wouldn’t have been snapped up in that time away. To him, there can be no shortage of other men in your life that are crazy about you.

He contacts you. You tell him that you’re not really in a position to meet up with him, and you don’t really know if you ever will be again, honestly. His hands are sweating and his fingers fuck up on the keyboard all the time, so he just decides to call. Ask you what he’s done, if there’s someone else, if you know that he’s madly in love—

Not thirty seconds into the phone call, just barely past the niceties and pleasant greetings, when all of those questions are on the tip of his tongue— he hears crying. A baby crying. You tell him hurriedly that you’ll have to call him back. He decides he just can’t wait that long. He goes to your place.

You answer the door with a baby in a sling around you, tucked up to your chest, markedly more calm than it had been over the phone. Red hair. Your expression is a little tightened, like you hadn’t really wanted to see him at the door.

“As you can see, I’m not really able to attend a dick appointment right now.”

Fuck, is that what it was? You thought he just wanted sex?

A Quick look at your apartment tells him there isn’t anyone else. No men’s shoes by the door. Photos on the wall are just you and your friends— no partner in sight. It’s also kind of a mess. If there was a man in your life, he deserved to have his head beat in for leaving you to deal with all of this alone all day.

Then comes the quick mental math.

“That’s not what I want. Let me come in, schatz. Let me talk to you.”

It breaks his heart to see how reticent you are to let him in. It’s part and parcel with how tired you look.

“Look, if you’re wondering— yes, he’s yours, biologically.” Well, that clarification at the end stings a little. “But it was my choice to keep him, so I don’t expect anything from you. If this feels like an obligation to you, I’d prefer if we just cut things off here.”

The words that follow spill from his mouth uncontrollably.

“I don’t just want him— I want you. I want the both of you. I want it to be us,” he nearly babbles, hoping what he says is even halfway coherent.

“You’re all I think of when I’m away. I cannot lie and say I’d imagined the… the order of events would be this way. But I’d thought of it— with you. Please let me in, and… and let me meet him properly, ja?”

There are tears in his eyes when his son holding his finger for the first time, not ten minutes later.

[g0dlyunsub]

on your own. | part one

part one | part two

a stalker forces you to abandon the bau and leaves you in the streets strapped to an explosive. when spencer finds you, you’re left with a bitter decision to try and save him.

pairing :: spencer x fem bau!reader

warnings :: general cm themes, mentions/depictions of stalking, kidnapping, needles, blood, explosives, and death, lots of angst

word count :: 3k

author’s note :: this is literally the prelude to pure angst. poor reader has been through too much :(

accompanying song :: exit music (for a film) by radiohead

one year ago

you never said goodbye to spencer reid. 

the first set of warnings came in the form of a letter enveloped in frail parchment paper. you found it on your desk after you returned with the rest of the team from a case. the tiredness washed over you as you slumped in your chair, and you lazily reached for the envelope to detach the sealed flap from the wax.

it’s at that moment, when you read the first sentence, that you wished you never unfolded the letter. 

but your eyes betrayed you, and they shifted left and right as you proceeded to read through the spouts of hatred and animosity. 

you already know the story. you will die. everyone you love will also die. you will lose them forever. you will be sad and angry. you will weep. you will bargain. you will make demands. you will beg. you will pray. it will make no difference. nothing you can do will bring them back. you know this. your knowing changes nothing. 

i will make you understand this unfathomable truth again and again, as if for the very first time.

you missed the person you were five minutes ago. 

after re-reading the letter four times, you realized the uncanny similarity of the message to the iliad, maybe book 21. it was most likely someone trying to spew out a hollow threat against you and the team, using a contemporary translation to sound modish and intimidating. you made a mental note to ask spencer who the translator was once he returned with his coffee.

it wasn’t entirely uncommon for you to receive death threats, especially after working at the bau for five years. while you’ve managed to lock up some of those who had enacted the worst possible actions against humanity, you also became part of the receiving end – a channel for all of the violence to funnel through. 

before you placed the letter back into its envelope, you noticed a small card tucked in the corner of the sleeve. you cautiously took it out, a glossy sticker of a red eye on the face of the card glaring into your own irises.

you turned it over.

this one instantly drowned the color from your face. it knocked out all of your emotion, sealed it in a box, and shipped it away on a freighter that was already set out on a doomed path. 

tell him about me, go on. tell doctor spencer reid about me. i bet he would enjoy choosing who to save: aaron hotchner or david rossi.  

you heard someone clear their throat from behind you, and you swore you heard your own heart beat against the walls of your own skin, thudding like a drum with its sunken chambers. you straightened your posture and shoved the letter to the side. you prayed it wasn’t spencer standing behind you.

you sighed in relief when you turned to face anderson.

“ma’am, a letter for you.” he handed you another letter, this time a charcoal-gray envelope with no mailing address inscribed on it. just your name. after he was a considerable distance away from your desk, you teared the flap with shaky fingers and peered inside.

it was a set of photographs, the film papers bundled together with a single rubber band. you lifted the envelope, letting gravity do the work as the stash of photos fell to your lap. 

your throat ran dry. your worst fear was sitting on your lap, and you could do nothing but stare back at it with panic-stricken eyes.

your cheeks suffused with a color of pale blue and a trigger blew off in your head. 

each photo depicted you with a bau member. and you recognized every moment.

you were grabbing prentiss’ arm as you laughed at the nonsensical joke one of her date partners had tried on her.

you were hugging rossi at his doorstep after being invited to vent personal troubles over some scotch and wine.

you were giving jack a high-five after babysitting him as hotch thanked you for covering him when he went to new york to visit beth.

you were sitting at the dinner table with jj and will, happily eating from a plate of steak and fries as you discussed your future plans to go travel abroad.

you were with garcia, carrying multiple shopping bags as you stopped to point at the beautiful dress showcased in the vintage store across the street.

you were deeply engaged in conversation with morgan, sitting on a park bench and watching the children run around as though not a single worry clouded over their heads.

and you were with spencer, legs crossed as you took a sip out of your hot coffee and exchanged novels to read. a red ‘x’ marked over both of your faces. 

tell doctor spencer reid about me.

the tears fell one by one, staining the tanned paper and leaving the inked words to bleed across the wet spots.

you will die.

if ending credits ever existed in a movie as tragic as yours, they would roll right now – and you would be as good as a deceased character, your name marked in white against a black screen.

i will make you understand this unfathomable truth again and again, as if for the very first time.

you drew in a shaky breath and folded the letter with trembling fingers. the creases retracted the notebook-sized sheet into a flattened square. each turn of the paper felt like you were shattering your own bones, irreversibly folding them into an inhuman form.

two weeks. that was how much time you gave yourself to leave the bau. and to fray the twine between you and your beloved doctor.

you received the second warning a week before your departure. 

this one was a direct threat, a ruthless sign that he wasn’t giving you extra time to think about your options. in fact, he made it clear that you didn’t have an option.

your stalker had taken jack for twelve hours, during which your team – hotch especially – searched relentlessly. no one paused for a coffee break, and every single one of you was going to devote every waking hour to bring jack home safe. the last thing your team needed was a foyet wannabe, and everyone was on edge for reports, sightings, anything.

but the clues trickled to you. he dropped hints for you directly, even one at your cell number. while you relayed everything to your team, no one asked the questions until later. why did he leave you with the hints, trying to lead you to jack’s trail when it should’ve been hotch?

the inquiries dropped like flies when jack was brought to the steps of the fbi office by a “mysterious presence”, according to a messenger who passed hotch a card.

when the card was shown to you, a bone-chilling shiver propagated down your spine and your pupils dilated.

you already know the story, it read.

no one else knew what it meant except for you. typed in courier and printed on the all-too-familiar brown letter paper, the words bore into your soul and etched onto your heart with a searing pain.

you were angry. so, so angry. not at the fact that you couldn’t even get three hours of sleep ever since the week before, not at the fact that you had a stalker vexing you with taunts, but at the fact that he was targeting everyone but you.

to you, he was a coward. if it was rancor he harbored against you, he should’ve confronted you directly. tear a ligament, make you swim in your own blood, leave you for roadkill, you didn’t care. if he was so inclined to get at you, then you’d let him. but never – never – could you forgive anyone who let others in your own mess.

you reached out to hotch first. you told him you had found a new job in upstate new york, where you were going to work as a lecturer at a local university. to make it sound convincing, you told him that a family member of yours had fallen sick and was currently residing there, and you needed to seek solace in their presence.

he understood, just as you expected. he always did, without question. he’d pay visits at your new place and at the university, and catch up with you once in a while. jack would love to see you there, he said.

rossi, too, accepted it without much hesitation. he gave you one of his heartwarming smiles, wrinkled eyes reassuring you for any hesitation you had trying to tell him before. come by any time, we’ll always welcome you with open arms, he spoke with genuine kindness.

prentiss and jj, more reluctantly so. they gave you a tougher time, practically interrogating you – asking you where the address of your new place was, since when you had planned on leaving the bau, and if you needed help clearing out your current place.

you’ve – i mean we all have, a little, but you seem to be… disturbed lately. especially after… jack was abducted, prentiss told you. prentiss and her watchful eye. it’s why you specifically planned to tell her with jj in the room, so she’d reserve the harsher questions for another time when it’d be just the two of you, but by then you’d find a way to avoid the conversation altogether.

morgan didn’t say much. you had expected that though, considering the fact that you would often go to him to consult worries, plans, and theorize about each other’s future. he was silent when you delivered the news, but then he pulled you in as if to shield you from all of your lingering worries.

promise me, l/n. promise me you’ll come visit.

you broke like a brittle twig in his grasp. you wanted to give up so badly.

i promise, you whispered back. the masterful lie rolled off of your tongue before you could withhold yourself, and it lay suspended in the air with heavy guilt and ill-fated dishonesty.

garcia never accepted departure well. you could only watch in pity and remorse as the mascara stained her cheeks and the tears landed at her keyboard. her arms shook as she tried to embrace you, and you didn’t even have it in you to return the hug.

you wanted garcia to be the last to see you. you wanted to save your goodbye with her for the very last, a fluorescent presence in your otherwise gloomy life. her bubbly spirit met your silence with indescribable serenity, and you monumentalized your last moment in the bau with her. she made your life worth living.

you were trying. you were trying to spare the safety of your dearest friends at the expense of your own. you were trying to reclaim the blood that rushed to your face. you were begging for one chance. who could blame you?

spencer did.

you didn’t leave a single note for spencer. you never even told him a thing. to him, your departure was indigestible torment. he usually doesn’t wish the worst upon anyone, but with you, he wondered if he had to make an exception.

you ended up leaving the office a day before your said departure date, because you didn’t want to risk spencer finding out any earlier. you had meticulously planned everything out, asking every team member not to tell another. to your knowledge, no one knew that anyone else knew, save for prentiss and jj.

the day after you left, you received a text from spencer.

can we please talk? 

his message lit up your screen, a lone star in the night sky that was drowned of its usual vibrancy. 

you were too far into this to take a step back. 

after looking up to the sky one last time, taking in the sight of the polluted air clouding the atmosphere with your bloodshot eyes, you dropped your cell into a garbage bin.

you knew he’d be mad. 

you wanted him to stay mad. it would make all of this — the pain of moving on — easier.

some day, he’d understand. you hoped. you hoped and you hoped.

your bitter end was inevitable.

for three weeks, spencer was all alone.

he drew no effort to talk to anyone about it, because you robbed him of his mental clarity.

since the first day you joined the bau, you held him spellbound. you listened to his ramblings, exchanged book recommendations with him, and sat next to him in the darkness as he lay gasping for air after another one of his horrendous nightmares.

you were there for him, until you weren’t.

your absence was his worst torment, a form of loneliness he couldn’t sleep away.

there were times when he’d pour twice the water needed in his kettle, only to realize after that he set down a single coffee cup.

there were times when he’d intentionally wear his tie crooked, only to realize you were never going to be in the office to point it out for him.

there were times when you’d appear in his dreams, when he’d awake and see nothing but a pile of books before him.

you turned into a dull ache in his chest.

you became the sadness so deep in his chest that he couldn’t even cry about it. 

he wondered how it felt now that you left him behind. he put all of his cards on the table, exposing to you his most vulnerable moments and emotions. if only you showed your hand.

he wanted it to haunt you.

he wanted to hate you.

you were impossible longing, impossible infatuation. he thought you were unloveable.

who could blame him?

present day

you never left virginia. 

in fact, you were stuck making ends meet as a writer for a local news journal under the pseudonym lynne davis.

the truth is, it was impractical for you to find a new job and relocate within the mere span of two weeks. quitting your job at the bau was a given, but that also meant that your compensation would drop significantly. considering that you couldn’t work in law enforcement anymore, you had to start over from scratch.

so you tirelessly worked to scour earnings by typing away, writing editorial pieces on sports and personal health.

your night job, you worked as a cashier at a seven-eleven. because you couldn’t work remotely for your shifts, you took up a disguise. you dyed and cut your hair, exclusively wore long-sleeved articles of clothing, and kept a baseball cap on, making sure it snugged tightly against your forehead and hid your eyes.

yet in hindsight, nothing could have prepared you for the worst. the issue with all of this was that you were too consistent. had you changed up your routine from time to time, perhaps you wouldn’t have been caught while commuting to your night shift. but you were too predictable for him.

it happens when you get off of the bus.

when the man bumps into you, he murmurs apologies that you can’t ignore.

“sorry- are you okay?” he asks.

you look up briefly to meet his eye before forcing a small smile with upturned lips.

“yeah, um, don’t worry about it. i’m all good.” you tell him rushingly with the wave of your hand, before turning to walk to the store.

but he doesn’t leave you. his heavy steps mimic yours, treading quickly along the asphalt. after taking a few staggering steps, you stop. you annoyedly turn around, deciding to tell him off. 

“hey, i don’t know what you’re doing-”

you never get to finish your sentence. when you look at him, he’s already face to face with you, one hand grasping the side of your shoulders while the other presses a needle against your arm.

your entire time at the bau, you took pride in your acute awareness of your surroundings, never letting your guard down even around those you trusted. so this was the price you had to pay for your lack of practice – everything folded into a blurry stream as you looked down to see your legs dissipate in the ground, almost like you were falling in quicksand.

when you wake up, you’re on the ground in a narrow alleyway. you don’t know how much time has passed, but it’s hot and the air’s fetid and there’s an itch spreading throughout your entire body-

you look down. your hands are stained with a horrific shade of red, and there’s a crumpled note in your palm. you unfold it.

it will make no difference.

he had you. you scowl at the thought of him subduing you, strangling you with ropes and leashing you to a chair.

you freeze. he’s also made you wear a black leather jacket, bundling you up in the thick layer of suffocating heat. 

you unzip the jacket, and the walls in your head cave in instantly. to your dismay, you’re wearing an explosive vest, armed with a detonator and all. a timer lies near your ribcage, and your heart sinks. it hasn’t started yet.

a shaky exhale leaves your lips as you try to assess your situation.

you wish death would’ve consumed you already, but you have to stand up on your feet and run, away from the buildings and the people, as fast as your weary legs can carry you.

you stand and start to run in the opposite direction from the main road, the sounds of traffic bleeding into your ears as your feet slam against the ridged ground.

parched with unquenched thirst and begrimed with dust from the asphalt, you come to a stop when you reach a fork in the road. 

as you frantically try to think of which route to take, you hear it.

“y/n?”

it’s too familiar. the voice ridden with a slight rasp, carrying an air of inquisitiveness and soothing tenderness.

it sounds like clarity amidst all of the chaos.

you pray it’s not him.

you turn to meet the sight of the wrinkled shirt, waistcoat, and converses smudged with dirt. the brown disheveled hair, doe eyes, and moistened lips pursing with concern.

spencer fucking reid.

[crustyfloor]

It's really hard on the gut seeing ppl only ever consider the characters' relationships instead of the characters themselves,

"I wish Ivan lived for Till" His relationships aren't all there is to him.

If he should want to live for anyone, it should be himself. Giving his whole being to Till is what got him to this point in the first place (I do not blame Till for this.) Wishing the pain of the same cycle of yearning, rejection, etc on him just because you want him to keep chasing after someone WHO DOESN'T LOVE HIM BACK. Is just... *incredibly un-based buzzer noise*

Ivan already has a severe lack of self-esteem to begin with, do you know just how much self-growth and development he would need to grow from that? to consider a life worth living for him and himself only? ITS SO INTERESTING, Ivan should not just be reduced to 'Till's loverboy' in fact, it feels like a mockery of his well-written character when people only care about that. He has such deep lore outside of his story with Till that needs to be talked about more often, his personality is just as interesting, his thought process, EVERYTHING. It just sucks how some people won't consider that first.

(I think this fandom may have a bit of an issue with intertwining characters with each other so much to the point where it's like their relationships are their whole personality. People will blatantly hate Till JUST for not reciprocating Ivan's feelings. Or will wish Iban 'tried hard enough' to get Till's attention, please. give them a break. They don't deserve this.)

You want Ivan to live for IvanTill.

I want Ivan to live for Ivan.

We are NOT the same!!!

[pinkiemachine]

Alright @newtonnote ! This one’s for you!

STORYTIME!! (spoilers)

So, starting off, forming this new team was Tim’s idea. The OG Teen Titans had been drifting apart for a while, Cyborg was a member of the Justice League, and it looked as though the whole “Teen Titans” thing was gonna be shelved indefinitely until Tim came along with the idea for the old crew to form Young Justice instead, and he would reboot the TT.

Now, the first TT was not sanctioned. It was a spontaneous thing that happened more or less behind Batman’s back, but this time around, the Justice League had more of a say in the matter. Hence, all the sidekicks.

At the beginning of the NTT run, the only members are: Tim/Robin (founding member), Spoiler (invited herself), Miss Martian (Martian Manhunter volunteered her), Aqualad II (Aquaman volunteered him), and Wonder Girl II (volunteered by Wonder Woman). All the Justice Leaguers think it’ll be a good bonding and training experience for them, because they’re all a bunch of anti-social/socially awkward beans in their own ways. Tim likes the idea of leading the NTT, but soon realises he just might prefer working alone (if you want something done right, do it yourself) but he’s stuck in this situation now, so there’s not much he can do about it! XD Miss Martian is from Mars and she’s still learning all about every day teenagering, and can get very nervous about fitting in and can’t stand when she messes up. Wonder Girl (who I decided will only be called Olympia AFTER her time as Wonder Girl II) is a homeschooled girly (or, she *was* while her mother was an archeologist) but now she’s being forced out of her comfort zone and having to make friends for her stupid mental health, or whatever Wonder Woman said she had to do… meh… It’s not like she doesn’t want friends, it’s just that it’s so much work to make new ones. Then there’s Aqualad. He’s an interesting case, because no one else can seem to really understand him. He’s quiet, painfully practical, and almost emotionless. He doesn’t really do “chit chat” or “making friends.” He’s simply here following orders from Aquaman, and trying to be a “good soldier.” Steph/Spoiler is the only person keeping them all together.

The team’s first mission is in Atlantis, something super small scale that Aquaman picked out for them—almost laughably easy stuff. But while they’re in the underwater city, they happen to get their fortunes told by a fortune-teller lady. She says that someone in their team will betray them. Dun dun dun.

Not very long after that, the NTT get an alert that there’s a meteor headed straight into the ocean nearby! When they go to investigate, turns out it’s not a meteor, but a space ship. Inside, they find Kon El. He’s taken back to the Hall of Justice for questioning and other such scrutiny, but questions abound. (This happens after the Death of Superman, and Kara and Krypto are in outer space taking care some other stuff, which Batman thinks is suspicious timing.) So, without the only other Kryptonians around to verify this new guy’s legitimacy, they have to rely on his word and a DNA test for the time being. Kon-El claims that he was just one of the few lucky survivors after the end of Krypton, and when he heard that Superman was living on earth, he came as quickly as he could. Imagine his surprise when he was told that Superman was dead.

With nowhere else to go, he was allowed to stay with the NTT, as he adjusted to life on Earth. Kon-El decides to take up the secret identity name of Conner, and he decides that, if he should pass the Justice League’s tests and become a beginer superhero (which he does) then he wants to be called the next Superman. But the name doesn’t stick, and everyone winds up calling him Superboy instead, which irks him. All the while, that little prophecy the team had been told is hanging in the air.

Then—BLAM—the NTT’s first major fiasco happens! BLACK MANTA. He’s come for revenge, and to reclaim… Aqualad… his son? Dun dun dun! The backstabbing, just as it was foretold! And surprisingly, Aqualad goes with him! Now, to cut a long story short, here’s the skinny: When Aqualad (Kaldur) was a little toddler, he was present when Aquaman fought his father Black Manta, driving him away from Atlanits for a while, and accidentally killing his mother in the chaos. Aquaman felt so horrible that he decided to take Kaldur in and raise him at the palace. All the while, though, Kaldur seemed to be growing up a little… strange. Because of the shock he went into, witnessing all of that, his brain chose to react by almost shutting down all emotion. He was sleepwalking through life, too young to make sense of what had happened, and by the time he was old enough to understand, it was such a blur that he could barely remember any details. He accepted Aquaman’s hospitality, he entered the royal guard after a certain point, working his way up to becoming Aqualad, but through it all, the only reason he was doing it was because he was told to. He was told to learn to fight, because he was told he had an aptitude for it. He was told he could become Aqualad, so he accepted. And so on. But he never had any agency in those decisions. Life was happening to him. Around him. Never inside him. So when Black Manta came, telling him to leave the NTT and join him instead, Kaldur accepted.

Eventually, after a long and meaningful journey, the NTTs are able to get through to Kaldur, and essentially “wake him up.” For the first in his life, he was going to choose what he wanted to do, and what he wanted to do was protect his friends and his home from Black Manta. Double-double-cross! So Aqualad comes back to the NTT, Black Manta’s defeated, the prophecy (we presume) has come to pass, and Kaldur is actually a little excited to continue his journey with his new friends.

After that… I haven’t decided whose story is next, so we’ll leave that space blank for the moment, but I know whose story comes third! After the grande finale of (whoever, either Wonder Girl or Miss Martian) their story, there’s suddenly a time travel anomaly! A certain someone with big hair comes tumbling out of the time-stream—and it’s BART! aka IMPULSE!

So the next arc is all about Bart. He’s come back in time to warn the Justice League to prevent a horrible future from happening! One where planet Earth was invaded by an alien race called The Reach. Only problem is, not long after arriving, the Reach themselves travel back in time and try to capture Bart! They grab him, and are about to time travel back to the future, when the rest of the NTT grab onto them and stow away, sending them all beyond the Justice League’s help.

The Reach timeline is a grim existence. They invaded sneakily at first, posing as allies, but over time, they revealed their true colours. They were a nomad society, flying in one massive ship around the galaxy after their home planet was destroyed, going from planet to planet gathering resources. When they got to Earth, they discovered more than just water and minerals and crops… they discovered human beings, and their “Meta Gene.” No other known races in the universe possess this seemingly magic gene that grants superpowers, and once the Reach realised its true potential… they couldn’t just leave well enough alone. They schemed and they lied and they manipulated the human race so easily, they fell within a matter of years, and once they were in control, they started the Meta Human black market, where they would study Meta “Specimens” and/or sell them to other unsavoury alien races.

Where was the Justice League? Why didn’t they do anything? Batman was the first to suspect them, long before things turned bad. However, during his investigation, he was discovered by the Reach, and he was silenced. One by one, they found ways to lure, trick, manipulate, or just plain overpower many heroes, such as Superman and Wonder Woman, but they didn’t just kill them. No, no. Their central hubs were known as Mothercities. Entirely technofitted, entirely run by AI, entirely for the purpose of breading and raising and harvesting humans. The AI at the helm was a super advanced AI named Arcturus. The thing that made him so advanced was that he didn’t rely on normal computers for hardware and processing power. The Reach, as a whole, prefer biotech, and so what Arcturus used instead… was the human mind itself. By harvesting even a few dozen human beings, a massively powerful AI could be sustained, and the more minds you add, the bigger, badder, and faster it gets. Arcturus loooooved Batman and Wonder Woman’s minds, so full of processing power and knowledge about the planet, and the Reach were enthralled with studying Superman’s Kryptonian biology, being a member of an endangered species and all. Soon, they had built the Byway, a massive space station in Earth’s orbit, specifically for the black market’s selling and buying, and through it all, the Green Lanterns were nowhere in sight. Leaving Earth to believe they had been abandoned.

Over time, things just kept getting worse and worse. The superheroes kept on fighting, but with every victory came two losses. Then some of the Reach’s AI programs began going rampant. Some went straight up crazy, bombing as many locations as they could, or blasting themselves into space. Others changed allegences, to other countries or to the Resistance, but the most powerful—Arcturus chief among them—remained loyal to the Reach. All in all, it left Earth a tattered mess. To top it all off, Starfire, Princess of Tamaran, died trying to protect Earth, and the Tamaraneans were so livid… well… They called it “Skyfall.” A mixture of starbolts and space debris sent falling down onto the planet’s surface. Many Reach cities were destroyed… but many bases belonging to the Resistance were also hit.

Countless heroes were either harvested or killed during the years this took place over, but the few who remained made Atlantis their final stronghold. Including The Flash’s son, Don Allen, and his son, Bart Allen. Now, sadly, even though Bart was young, he was tasked with being a member of the American Meta Human Army due to the fact that he had a superpower. This would prove to be a terrible mistake, because during Skyfall, where Bart was present trying to evacuate refugees, he slipped up, and was captured by a Reach Harvester. For an entire year, he was plugged in to Arcturus’ mainframe, and boy did Arcturus love having a mind that could think so fast. He loved it so much that when Don Allen and a rescue team came to break Bart out, he swore that he would do everything in his power to get Bart back.

From that time on, Bart was not required to fight. Instead, he stayed with his father and his father’s cousin, Wally West, who were on the verge of a breakthrough. Time Travel, using the Speedforce. If this worked, they could undo everything. Fix Earth. Save their loved ones. Don and Bart were charged with the task of going back in time and warning the Justice League, but only Bart made it through. Don stayed behind to fend off a surprise attack from a group of Harvesters. Bart alone traveled to the past, where he met the New Teen Titans and the Justice League. But of course, after capturing Don Allen, a fellow speedster, the Reach were eventually able to figure out how to use the Speedforce for time travel as well, and used it to go after Bart.

Back to where we left off in the story:

Everyone was sucked into the Reach Timeline, and the NTT found themselves in a Mothercity, completely outmatched. Miss Martian and Aqualad were harvested almost instantly, Robin and Wonder Girl got caught shortly after that, and the only members who were able to escape into the lower levels of the city were Superboy, Spoiler, and Bart, who might have been able to prevent all of that from happening… if he hadn’t been so afraid. Ever since coming out of Arcturus, he’d been different, and mortally terrified of technology—any kind of technology. Now, though, if they were going to rescue their friends and get back to the present, he would need face his greatest fear one more time.

Now, I’ve thought about this story so much, and written so much down, I could go on for another 40 pages, but I’ll spare you each and every minute detail.

Yes, they rescue their friends eventually. They wind up breaking out of the Mothercity and joining the Resistance back in Atlantis. There’s a big final battle against the Reach and Arcturus—they go up into space and discover that the Green Lanterns hadn’t abandoned them, the Reach had simply been holding planet Earth hostage and forming a blockade, severely limiting what the Green Lanterns could and couldn’t do, and keeping them at arm’s length for years, though they were trying everything they could think of to save Earth. But now, things had changed. Sneaking the Green Lanterns onto the planet, the fight was finally fair, and they were about to beat Arcturus once and for all…

But then he pulled out one last dirty trick. He put his AI consciousness into a chip in Don Allen’s mind, effectively controlling him and using him to go back in time to prevent Bart from ever being rescued in the first place. The NTT chased him down through the timestream, but in the end, they realised that there was only one way to stop him. Only one way to stop a speedster. Bart looked away when it happened.

When they finally returned to the present, Bart was with them (their only means of returning to their time) and he was forced to keep living… but he couldn’t bear to remember everything. So he asked for his memories to be wiped. Thus began his new life with the NTT, as a new Bart Allen. (But those memories weren’t completely gone…)

Then begins Superboy’s arc. In the days following their little “time travel adventure,” Conner had been acting strange. He’d been disappearing a lot too. Eventually, it was discovered that Conner was secretly working with Lex Luthor. When the NTT found out, they were shocked. Conner had been a little wild and a little aggressive, but he was their friend. They told jokes, they stayed up late talking, they saved each other’s lives over and over again, and… now that his secret was out, he wanted them to know that he was sorry… but he couldn’t say no to his father. Lex.

Conner had been made in a lab, using spliced DNA from Superman and Lex Luthor. Superman’s powers + Lex Luthor’s brains. After countless failures, finally Conner was born. He was trained and “programmed” (as Lex called it) to covertly get close to the Justice League, learn their weaknesses, and ultimately be the force that brought them down from the inside. Then, Lex would frame it as though the Justice League had gone rogue, and his invention—his synthetic Heroes for Hire—had saved the day. Not only would HIS version of Superman become famous, he’d also get rich. But Conner… he was a lot more human than Lex ever gave him credit for. Ever since being born, all Conner wanted was some kind of affection from his father, but Lex made it very clear that he was not, and would never be, Conner’s father. Lex was Conner’s creator. His manufacturer. Conner was a product. Property. Nothing more. But secretly, Conner still wanted to impress him and please him, so he went along with his mission eagerly.

While he was away, he learned about Superman, his “other father.” He was crushed when he discovered he was dead, because for a moment he had thought that maybe he would be able to find a father figure in him instead… but it was not to be. Instead, he often found himself sitting alone in front of the Superman memorial statue at the Hall of Justice, talking to it for hours. Filling him in on how his life was going… imagining what it would be like to have a real dad… most of all, he told him about his new friends, and how… he didn’t want to betray them, but he didn’t want to betray Luthor more. He was sure that if he completed his mission, he’d get what he was after.

Flash forward, and the NTT were captured for discovering Conner’s secret, and the plan to take down the Justice League was in place, about to begin, and Conner looked to Luthor, hoping to hear some kind of encouragement, only to be reminded that he was just property. He did as he was told by Luthor, or he would be terminated and replaced by anther clone. But the cherry on top was when Luthor presented something to Connor. A Blue Scarab Beetle. The AI powered supersuit parasite that the Reach use to enslave their mightiest warriors. How did Luthor get his hands on this one? Conner had no idea, but the fact that Luthor wanted to use it on Conner… that was what finally convinced him that Luthor really wasn’t ever going to care about him, let alone love him. Now, thankfully the Scarab didn’t activate when presented to Conner, so that idea was a bust, but Luthor still had control over Conner with a kill-switch he could flip at any moment, so Superboy was forced to continue with the plan, fearing that there was nothing he could do. He really was nothing more than property. He was half of Lex Luthor, a villain, and he was about to do the unthinkable to his friends because of it.

That’s when Superman came back. The full story takes place with the Justice League, but there’s a crossover here. Superman comes back, totally scaring the living daylights out of Lex and foiling his plan, and in the end, he convinces Conner to join the light side by promising to protect him from anything Luthor would try to do to him. He was a good person inside, and he had people he cared about, and wanted to protect. Superman just helped bring out that side of him. When all was said and done, Luthor was defeated, and Conner’s kill-switch was destroyed. He was free to actually live. He was so excited to do all the things he thought he’d never be able to do, and to keep his friends! Most of all, he was excited to learn from his “big brother” Superman (though to himself, he still thought of Supes as a father) and he couldn’t wait to start making up for all the bad stuff he did. He didn’t care what he had to do to make things right—he was just happy he had the chance to! And of course, there was his budding relationship with Miss Martian… two awkward little alien beans…

So those are the most fleshed out stories I’ve got, but beyond that, Tim and Steph are a power couple—he’s the dark, she’s the light, he’s the calm, she’s crazy, and they’re amazing together. Wonder Girl II I’m still thoroughly exploring and learning about her character, and Miss Martian goes through a whole identity crisis as she tries to determine who she wants to be, because she’s spent her whole life trying to please other people, and be the girl they wanted her to be. Conner helps her discover herself on her journey.

I hope that wasn’t too much info… sorry if I buried you a little… but trust me…. this is the condensed version. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed! Thanks for reading!

[tradgedyinwaves]

tw: emotional neglect, military inaccuracies, one sided relationship, sex, cursing, not necessarily unwanted sex, but not encouraged

You told him.

Over and over.

If he didn’t stop treating you like a maid and fuck buddy, you were done.

“Simon, you didn’t do the dishes like I asked and now I have to do them before I can get started on dinner,” you chastise, moving dishes around so you can get them done. His team was coming over for dinner that night, but he’d made no move to help you.

“Ah, I forgot. ‘M sorry,” he called from the couch, eyes still glued to the game flashing across the screen. You huffed and got to work, mentally creating a list of everything that would need done before the guys arrived in…four hours. Great, you had to shower too. 

Only once you’d finished the dinner and were getting into the shower, did Simon finally rise from the couch. He pushed his way in, joining you in the shower. His massive hands found your hips before sliding between your legs, searching for the little bundle of nerves.

Oh, now he wanted to pay attention to you? “Come on, luvie. Let me feel your tight cunt on my cock. I know how much you love my cock,” Simon grunted against your ear, his fingers dancing over the most intimate parts of you. And you let him.

Let him take what he wants because at least, he’s paying attention to you, right? You sigh as he slides into you, feeling the familiar burn and stretch. It’s quick and dirty. He pulls out to shoot his seed between your legs and down the drain. You don’t finish and climb out of the shower to let him finish in peace. 

You stand in front of your closet, opting for a black dress that flaunts your curves but still allows you comfort. Stepping out of the bathroom, fully nude as he uses a towel to dry his hair, he grunts when he glances at you but makes no effort to compliment or even really look at you. 

“I thought I asked you to do the laundry. You know I have that court marshal and Price will have my head if I don’t look presentable,” Simon rants from the bedroom, looking for the ONE button up he owns that he wore earlier in the week to a meeting with some big wigs that the higher ups wanted them to meet. 

The issue was that you were currently bedridden and unable to leave the bed for more than a few minutes to use the restroom or grab food. You’d been laid up with a case of pneumonia that led to bronchitis, making breathing difficult, let alone doing your boyfriend’s laundry. 

You didn’t answer him, rolling away from the closet and curling into yourself. He’d not even been taking care of you, citing that he couldn’t afford to get sick. What if he needed to be deployed, but he was stuck in bed because he was taking care of you? His reasoning was fair, but you were his girlfriend. Shouldn’t he be more worried about getting you well?

It was Simon’s last night home before being sent on a mission. You weren’t privy to where he was going or how long he’d be gone, but that was normal. Something you’d adjusted to when you started dating the man. 

Normally, he’d at least stay home with you the night before. Maybe a movie or something before he’d fuck you into the mattress for three minutes, leaving you unsatisfied. But he tried right? 

This time though, he was throwing his leather jacket on and grabbing the keys to his bike. “You’re seriously going out with the guys you’re shipping out with instead of staying home with me?” you cried, tears slipping down your cheeks as you finally broke from the quiet ways he neglected you. 

“Sorry. They wanted to have a good night of drinking before we’re forced to be sober for weeks on end,” he reasoned, barely even giving you a glance before coming over to kiss the top of your head then disappear out the door. 

The door clicked shut and you heard the key turn in the lock. 

When Simon returned two months later to an empty flat and all of your things missing, he was stunned. Finding the note and your copy of the flat key laying on the coffee table had him collapsing on the couch as he stared at the two sentence note you'd left. He’d taken you for granted for too long, neglected you when you deserved the world. 7 words to shatter his world.

“Don’t come looking for me. I’m done.”