#you can't tell but i am cranking through these right now

[uceyliyahh]

UNDER YOUR TOUCH

Summary: After her difficult breakup, Tiana wanted to start anew with her life. That's when she realized her life would be better when she met him.

This fanfic is 18+! NO MINORS ALLOWED

word count: 3434

smut warning; it’ll come in the story randomly so PLEASE PLEASE look out for it I’m not really good at writing ✍🏽 smuts but I’m improving at the moment.

Jey Uso x Tiana

AWFUL GRAMMAR IM GETTING BETTER I SWEAR LOL.

comments, likes, repost are appreciated I would love the constructive feedback in what area I need to approve in. 🤍

ALSO! I don’t not want nobody stealing my fanfics or take it as theirs that will be an issue fasho so keep it cute respectfully.

I only own my OC along with the make up scenarios

But I’ll be writing along the way since this story is in my drafts on Wattpad right now so yuh. 💁🏽‍♀️

TAGS ⬇️ lmk if you wanna be tag 🏷️@pinkwithhearts @420days @jstarr86 @empressdede @angiedawn02 @biancasreign

@punksyeet @bebesobrielo @aikosilo @hunnidmilly @zillasvilla @fearlesschimera @xbriexx

@charmed-dreamssss @yana3sworld @partypoison00 @magnificentbouquetmusic @mselenalovebug @skyesthebomb

19.

TIANA

I'd been feeling ill for the last two weeks and had no idea what was going on, so I headed to the shop to purchase a pregnancy test. When I got home from the store, I walked into the bathroom and opened the box while pulling out two of the pregnancy tests. I peed on both sticks while flushing the toilet, nervously walking back and forth, chewing my fingernails. When I flipped them over, I was taken aback since both of them said nice things. I could not believe I was pregnant.

I grabbed my phone and texted Trinity, Bianca, and Emma because we were all in a group chat together.

IMESSAGE GC 💬 Tiana: guys...I have some news... Breezy: bestie what happened?? Trin🤭🫶🏽: yeah, what happened T? Em♥️: what's wrong?

Breezy: BITCH YOURE PREGNANT?????? Trin🤭🫶🏽: TIANA ARE YOU DEADASS RN JOSH GOT YOU KNOCKED UP? Em♥️: omg....😳😳 Tiana: yeah...I am pregnant I haven't been feeling good for the past two weeks so I had to figure out what the hell was wrong with me I couldn't eat anything. Breezy: I'm going to be an auntie!!! 🥹🥹 Tiana: oh my goodness here you go 😭 Trin🤭🫶🏽: I gotta tell Jon about this Em♥️: does that mean we get to take turns taking care of the little one? Tiana: wait don't tell Jon yet because yk he'll go run his mouth to Josh so lemme tell him Trin🤭🫶🏽: fineeee tiana 🙄🙄 Breezy: we finna be aunties yall like omg can't believe this is happening Tiana: lawd but im going to keep these hidden until I see Josh so yall don't say anything to him Trin🤭🫶🏽: alrighty babygirl Breezy: my lips are sealed Em♥️: kk girly. Tiana: thank you I'll ttly

I emerged from the restroom with both pregnancy tests in my hand, still stunned that I was carrying this man's baby. I placed both of them inside my drawer and concealed them behind my clothing as I approached the mirror on my wall.

Lifting up my shirt and massaging my tummy, I imagined myself becoming a fine-ass mom. As I was rubbing my belly, I heard my phone ring and halted my motions to retrieve it off the dresser.

It was Jey calling me. God, I hope the girls didn't tell him; that would just ruin the surprise.

OTP ZaddyJey🤍: hey mamas what you doing? Mamas🩷: I'm at home alone right now chilling since I've haven't been feeling good lately and my hormones has been making me feel emotional too. ZaddyJey🤍: you want me to come over later? Mamas🩷: yesss baby I miss yo' fine ass anyways ZaddyJey🤍: hm, I miss yo' cute ass too love imma slide through later after work I'll make sure to bring some clothes then. Mamas🩷: yayyy my hubby is spending the nighhht ZaddyJey🤍: you're so goofy baby ight then mama I'll see you later I love you Mamas🩷: I love you tooo

CALL ENDED

I laid down on my bed and instructed Alexia to crank up the chilly air. I curled up under my nice blanket, grabbed the remote, and turned on Baddies Caribbean, my favorite program.

While watching my TV, I became tired for a second. I attempted to open my eyes, but it didn't work, so I fell asleep, allowing my show to play itself.

✧.*

I awoke to my phone buzzing. As I managed to open my eyes, I noticed Jey beckoning me. I sat up and peered out the window, noticing his car in my driveway. I dashed downstairs, opened the door, and discovered him waiting there with food in his hand.

"Damn girl, you didn't hear me calling you?" He questioned me while I scratched the crust out of my eyes. "I'm so sorry, Bubba. I was in a deep slumber and had forgotten you were even coming," I said.

"It's alright, Mama. Please let me know next time. C'mon, so we can eat because I know you haven't eaten yet." I nodded affirmatively as I let him inside the home and slammed the door behind him.

He set the food and beverages on the table in the living room. This man bought some Waffle House for dinner since he adored the establishment.

He bought me a grilled chicken sandwich with fries and a lemonade, and he grabbed himself a BLT. I grabbed the remote from the table and turned on Twilight, as it was the time of year when the leaves dropped.

I hope I don't throw up the food he brought for us to eat since I've been feeling terrible all day and haven't eaten anything. While watching the movie, I felt my mouth turn sour, so I jumped up from the couch and hurried to the toilet, vomiting up.

'Goddamnit, this is getting ridiculous.'

I heard Jey's footsteps enter the bathroom as he pulled my hair up and patted my back while I vomited.

After throwing up, I flushed the toilet, wiped my face with a towel, and looked at Jey. I could interpret his facial expression; he appeared worried and perplexed.

"You good mama?" Jey asked.

"Y-yeah, I just need some water to help with all of this." I said, knowing damn well that my pregnancy is causing all of this.

"I'll go grab it for you. Why don't you go lie down on the couch? I'll come meet you." I did what I was told to do, lying down on the couch and rubbing my tummy.

'Hopefully, after this, I could surprise him with the pregnancy test.'

I saw Jey walking towards me with a cold water bottle in his hand. As he gave it to me, I grabbed it from his hand, opened it up, and drank it.

After drinking the water, I placed my head on Jey's lap, continuing to watch Twilight and feeling him play with my hair.

His touch felt calming and comfortable. I looked up at him while his eyes were fixed on the movie, but he could see I was admiring him.

He looked down at me with deep, hooded eyes, seized my chin, and pressed his soft lips against mine, kissing me a few times in the process.

He backed away as he grinned at me. God, he was so beautiful it wasn't funny. I sat straight on his lap, straddling him as I felt him grab my hips.

"I have a surprise for you that you might like," I added, toying with his mullet.

He arched an eyebrow at me, "What kind of surprise?" I chucked at him before jumping off his lap and rushing upstairs to my room. I proceeded to the drawer, grabbed both pregnancy tests, and tucked them behind my back as I headed downstairs. He was sitting there on his phone, waiting for me to reveal his surprise.

When I walked in front of him, his gaze fixed on me. I told him to close his eyes while pulling his hand out and placing both of the pregnancy tests in his hand.

He opened his eyes, seeing them both in his hand. As I watched, his face went into complete shock. He looked up at me, then back down at the tests.

"Tiana, don't play with me right now. Are you actually pregnant?" Jey questioned me.

"Yes, Josh, I'm really pregnant." I said.

"This gotta be a prank. Tink, yo' ass must be pranking me." I shook my head while coming towards him to sit on his lap, playing with his mullet, saying, "It's not a prank, baby. I'm serious."

He scooped me up by the thighs, giving me a few kisses on the lips while spinning me around in the process, causing me to feel dizzy.

Jey smiled at me happily. We are actually going' to become parents like actual parents.

"I am so happy, baby; I'm going to be a father, " he said softly, with excitement in his voice.

"Me too, Josh. I can't believe this is happening," I said before yawning.

Jey took note of this as he grabbed the remote control and turned off the TV before taking his phone and pregnancy tests as he carried me upstairs to my room.

He shut the door behind him with his foot and placed me on my lovely covers while I watched him remove his clothing. His toned skin, strong frame, and gorgeous Samoan tattoos were so exquisite that I couldn't help but approach up to him and stand in front of him as he seized me with his gaze.

Feeling all over his chest and face, he had such beautiful features I couldn't keep my hands to myself as I felt his hand around my waist.

"What's up, mamas?" he said as his gaze shifted to mine. I looked up at him with innocent eyes and placed my lips on his neck, kissing it wetly. I felt his hands slither down to my ass, gripping it tightly as I proceeded to give him wet kisses on his neck, marking him up in the process.

He grabbed my thighs and went backward towards the bed, where he sat down with me, straddling his lap.

He grabbed me forcefully by the throat, stopping me in my tracks. "you know you drive me crazy tink?" He spoke with a heavy tone of voice.

"I know I do so how about you let me take control of the situation and you." I replied with a smile.

I moved off his lap as he shuffled back towards the headboard, slipping his sweatpants and PSD boxers off. Seeing his long and curved dick rise up and strike his stomach.

My mouth watered at the sight of it, and his black stare was fixed on me and my motions as I slid my hair to the side.

SMUT WARNING

I started stroking his dick up and down, seeing the pre-cum pouring out of it and watching him relax via my touch.

I kissed his gorgeous mushroom tip, teasing him slightly as I heard his breathing tremble; he never allowed me to do this to him; generally, he would take charge of the situation or demonstrate his power.

"B-baby, stop teasing me, girl.." he rasped as I chuckled at him before going down on him.

I swirled my tongue around his tip, going all the way down until his tip was hitting the back of my throat.

I bopped my head up and down on his dick, hearing his sweet moans escaping from his lips, gazing up at him. He had his head thrown back on the headboard, clenching his legs in the process.

He opened his eyes, staring deeply into my soul as I continued to suck the soul out of him. Feeling his hand caressing my face.

"Fuckkk, baby, just like that, keep goin'." I loved the way he was sounding right now; it was turning me on even more.

"Mhmm, keep talking to me, love," I mutter softly while continuing to circle my tongue around the tip.

I felt him move his hips, pushing his dick deeper inside of my mouth, grabbing a whole load of my hair, and began to face fuck me. I maintained my breathing as I let him face fuck me hearing his heavy breathing.

"Shit, mama, your mouth feels so good wrapped around my dick, letting me fuck this pretty face of yours." Jey grunted as he continued to thrust his hips.

All you could hear were wet noises coming from my lips as all of my saliva was dripping down all over his dick and my hands.

He abused my throat every chance he got while my eyes fluttered and my throat spasmed. With every single thrust he would just go deeper and deeper I started to form tears into my eyes.

"Ouuu fuck mami...taking me so well...make me nut mama..." his breathing became more shaky and heavy, knowing that he was almost close to his climax.

Feeling his dick twitching inside of my mouth along with his legs twitching too, as his tip was deep inside of my throat.

Rolling his eyes in the back of his head, thrusting his hips in the process, I used both of my hands, stroking him up and down while he did that, driving him insane.

After abusing my throat some more, I heard a loud groan escaping from his lips while his warm seeds spilled down my throat, eating that shit up.

I felt him shaking violently, seeing him pull out his dick away from my mouth, hearing that pop as my face felt flushed, seeing his chest heaving up and down.

I stick my tongue out at him, showing him that I swallow all of his nut, smiling at him as he chuckles at me, trying to catch his breath.

"Yo' ass is nasty baby but c'mere and ride this dick tho mama." Jey said while curling up his fingers.

I did what I was told to do, removing my booty shorts along with my cheeky panties and crawling towards his way before climbing on top of him.

I grabbed his dick rubbing his tip on my now wet folds before sticking it in, I sat down on it as a gasp escaped my lips feeling his hands on my hips as I began to ride him cowgirl style.

I was bouncing up and down on his dick as he was guiding me with my hips we maintained eye contact with each other while he racked his hand onto my ass cheeks as I whined.

"Fuck daddy, this dick feels so good..." I moaned, holding onto his shoulders.

"Yeah? Keep ridin' yo' dick, mama. This is all yours, baby." He replied in a raspy tone.

I had my eyes rolling in the back of my head while throwing my head back in the process as he continued to give my ass a few smacks.

He grabbed me up by the throat, placing his soft lips on mine, slipping his tongue in the process as we tongue kissed each other.

He guided my hips up and down his dick as my walls were clenching around him, causing him to groan between the kiss. Removing his lips from mine, replacing them with my neck, marking me up just like how I did him.

"You're so fucking pretty, you that mama?" He whispered softly in my ear.

"Uhn Huh, daddy fuck..."

I circled my hips on his dick, feeling myself breaking underneath him every single time, spelling my name on his dick.

His tip was hitting my spot as I continued to circle my hips like crazy, causing him to throw his head back in pleasure.

"Keep goin' fo' me baby fuck...this my shit?"

"Yess daddy this is all yours I'm yours forever baby.."

"Damn, right, ma yo' ass better know you belong to." I felt a pit go down my stomach as my facial expressions turned up, which caught his attention, knowing that I was going to cum all over him.

He got some control, firmly grabbing my hips and pushing his hips to meet my motions. Skins were clapping against each other as I screamed his name across the entire bedroom.

He was beating my shit up while I placed my face into his neck, moaning in his ear.

"Mhm, take this dick like a big girl. This shit is making you go stupid." Jey grunted as he continued to hammer into my gummy walls.

I love it when he talks nasty to me; it makes me want to smear his dick with my essence. I clutched his shoulders hard, knowing that I was getting near to my climax. I let out a loud groan as my body began to tremble beneath him, covering his dick with my cream. I wanted to get off of him right now, but he gripped my waist tightly, his powerful arms hammering into my wet creamy cunt deeply.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck Josh please...I can't take it..." I mewled weakly.

"Nah baby take this fucking dick and be a good girl fo' me baby." I did what I was told to do as I let him continue to beat my pussy in.

He was giving me these harsh strokes, kissing me all over my neck while I held his shoulders for dear life, sensing another orgasm approaching. I felt his dick quiver inside of me, knowing he was about to cum in my shit.

I was so overwhelmed that tears welled up in my eyes as I swallowed my saliva and threw my head back. I couldn't even fathom what was going on. 

Making me feel as if my brain needed to be rebooted, he shoved his hips farther into my gushy insides, causing me to gasp loudly as he smirked. Seeing how I trembled beneath his touch.

"Fuck baby, I'm finna nut all in yo' shit stuffing yo' ass like a turkey." After a few more thrusts, he and I came together as a groan escaped from our lips.

I felt his warm seeds inside of me filling me up well as he and I were panting heavily. He pulled his dick out from me, and his seeds were dripping out from my pussy and onto his stomach.

SMUT OVER.

We didn't move an inch from each other as I laid on his chest hearing his breathing going steady while his hands were still wrapped around my waist hugging me.

His lips gently kissed me on the neck and chest before we could finally pull away from each other. We looked into each other's eyes, smiling at each other, and I saw sweat dripping down his body.

"Damn that shit felt so good mama." Jey said.

"Y-yeah it did..ion' think I can move my body at the moment." I replied earning a chuckle from him.

"I can tell c'mon I'll carry you into the bathroom so we can take a bath together ight?" He scooped me up by my legs carrying me inside my bathroom placing me on top of the sink.

Turning on the faucet, he checked the temperature of the bath water, making sure that it wasn't hot or anything.

✧.* After we took a bath together, I was cuddled up on his chest, hearing his heartbeat while he was on his phone, scrolling through his social media.

Meanwhile, I was watching my show, gasping as I watched the girls fight each other, taking each other's wigs off while knocking their heads in.

"Why do you even watch this shit Tiana?" Jey questioned me, and I rolled my eyes at him.

"Because bae it's interesting to me and funny don't be hater now." I said sarcastically.

"Mane, I ain't no hater. I'm just saying," he earned a hum from me as my eyes were focused on the show.

I felt his hand on my tummy, pulling me closer to him as he began to rub it before placing a soft kiss on my neck.

I turned my head to look at his features, and he was already admiring me. I kissed him on the lips as he responded.

"I'm so nervous love." I said.

"Why mama?"

"Because what if I'm not a good mom to our little one?" He raised his eyebrow, looking at me.

"Baby, I think you'll be a great mother. Don't doubt yourself, okay? I'll be right there with you," Jey said as he reassured me.

I gave him one last kiss before turning off the TV and getting comfortable in the bed. He wrapped his arms around my waist, whispering in my ear.

"I love you mama"

"I love you too papa."

Under Your Touch.

biancabelairwwe replied to your story: IM FINNA BE AN AUNTIEEE zillafatu replied to your story: I'm an uncle? uceyjucey replied to your story: we finna be the best parents in the world baby 🤍 jonathanfatu replied to your story: ong bro I can't wait trinity_fatu replied to your story: tete babyyyy auntie is goin to spoil you rotten. 😭😭 rikishi replied to your story: ♥️ shelovesemma replied to your story: yesssss I am so happy for you!! theylovelani replied to your story: are you fucking kidding me?

tianasworld, romanreigns, solosikoa, and others liked your post.

uceyjucey: a father to be 🤍 tianasworld: I am so happy to experience this with you love. uceyjucey: @ tianasworld me too baby ♥️ romanreigns: lemme' know when the due date is so I can see the little bundle of joy solosikoa: I'm proud of you big bro biancabelairwwe: THANK JOSH NOW MY WISHES OF BECOMING A AUNTIE IS NOW TRUE! 🥹🥹 uceyjucey: @ biancabelairwwe 😭😭 no problem jonathanfatu: yo' ass really did knock her up I thought it was joke 😭 trinity_fatu: yessss brotherrrr finna be a daddy! theylovelani: wtf Jey like wtf uceyjucey: @ theylovelani gtfo please.

Read all Comments.

A/n: I have some sad news this book is coming to a close soon only four more chapters to go I really did enjoy writing this book but I am so happy for Tiana and Jey fr fr.

But I hope yall enjoy this chapter lmk in the comments below.

Stay Ucey.

[nagitoshopejar]

A show of the ages

Summary: Velvettes show has gone wrong and her adopted dad decided to help calm her down

THIS IS A PLATONIC PAIRING

“Fuck off Vox!” The youngest of the vees was throwing her usual tantrum when one of her shows wasn't going to plan, or at least the preparations before it. There was a problem. Velvette’s models were not to be seen. “Vox go find them!” 

“Velvette dear, you know what chasing bitches does for our reputation.” The TV inquired, “we have a reputation to keep. Find someone else. There's more demons here my love.” 

Velve, looking as if she was about to tear up, who knows if she was gonna cry at all, it wasn't typical of her to be teary eyed but through all the stress of the show it wouldn't be too crazy. She always manages to save her show whether that means making someone fix it or doing it herself. Right now it seems like she doesn't have a way for the show to go on. Her normally clean dressing room had clothes and props scattered about the floor in Pink haired demons onslaught and fit of rage.

“Listen my dear, I’m sure we can find someone. Perhaps we should tell your fans the truth. We could put out a contest to see who would be a new model, our ratings may go up.”

“Shut up Vox! Is everything about ratings and stuff to you?” The youngest, face turning red just as much as her hair started sputtering insults, “Help me for real or I’ll unplug your moth attracting life support you old ass ornery bitch!” Velvette while her tone was getting louder had Vox trying to calm her down.

“Velvette, calm down please we will find a way.” Vox was unsettlingly calm with his usual trademark grin plastered anywhere there was marketing.

“Vox I swear to god you are no help to you and your big dumb stupid tv head like you're supposed to be modern tech and you're old but no smarts and you're not wise. It's any wonder why anyone would even trust in our brands with a face not matching a personality or smarts like yours!” Velvette was going on about this forever even closing her eyes tight to make it seem as if she was serious.

“The time spent yelling and insulting me could be spent solving this little conundrum of yours, Velvy.” Velvette hated it when he called her by that name. Yea they had the father daughter bond of a blood family but that doesn't mean he could just call her by that name whenever he wants to.

“Don't call me that you fuckwad.” she muttered loudly enough for Vox to hear while giving him a death glare of the century. “If you're not going to help then you need to leave.”

“But Velve my dear I am. I heard your loud noises and thrashing and now… your mess on the floor. I am here to help you so just work with me here.” Velve huffed still eyes locked on the older of the two not moving an inch from her spot.

“Vox, leave. Now. NOW.” 

“Now, is that any way to speak to your dad, young lady?” Vox cocked an eyebrow with an ear to ear grin.

This set Velve off on a tangent, “you, of all people are not my dad. You couldnt even care for a fucking cat, a goldfish if you wanted to, what makes you think you take care of me? You’re old, ugly, not good for nothing piece of shit just some side piece of A-” in her incessant rambling you could see Vox with a sinister, almost mischief grin, he had a plan and was gonna put it to good use. Velve in her onslaught of insults stops mid sentence and simply drops to the ground in giggles.

“Vohohoox what are yohoho doingggg?” she whines trying to suppress her giggles like a river to a beaver dam.

“You are not behaving. Clearly I can't ground you but I can tickle you.” He walked up nice and close to her face to just mention what was happening, “you don't know this but I have little electric bolts that I can use to humble someone with mere giggly antics. You could call it a tickle ray, and we could sell it!” Vox was not excited about his new VoxTech idea but first he had to deal with the little lady who thinks she can disrespect her dad. “Shall I crank it up a notch?” 

“VohoHOHOX” of course she couldn't be belittled to begging so she just yelled at the modern man not that she did want it stop “NOHOHOHOHO OHO MY GOHOHOD!” her now ball of giggles was simply melted into a puddle of giggles as Vox kneeled down beside her.

“Maybe this will make you think twice before insulting me.. Velvy.” he snickered, dragging his pointy claw down from the forearm to the hollows to spider along Velves pit.

“NOHOHOT THEHERE PLEASE IM BEHEHGGING YOUHUHU.” 

“Awww is the little Velvy ticklish? Just a wittle sensitive? But y'know, if you don't want here I could always move to another spot.” Vox slowly trailed his finger down to her hips with her trying to squirm away from his tickly claw. Note that he's working with one hand, the rest is his tickle ray. Velve was clawing, grabbing at his hand but wasn't pushing it away.

“SHUHUHUT UHUHUP- AGH!” The little lady was surprised by the sudden squeeze on her most ticklish area. “NOHOHOT THEHEHEHERE EITHERRR AHAHAHAH VOOHOHOHOHO PLEEHE!” She couldn't create full sentences quite at the moment as the TV head started using both his hands to squeeze her hips.

“You know, I haven't heard you ask me to stop or made any real effort to stop me.”

Velve was blushing like a maniac, her face red and hot from the embarrassment and laughing so much. “SHUHUT UP OHOLD MAHAN!” She was thrashing all over knowing full well she did enjoy it.

“But if you want me to stop all you have to do is apologise for insulting me.”

Through her laughter she spit out sentences mangled with words that sounded like she would never apologise even if part of it was her liking this attention and bond with her adopted dad you would never catch THE Velvette apologising. “VOHO- NOHOH- NEVEHRHRR PLEEAHAHHAHA.”

“Well then, I guess I have to keep going.” The taller figure liked the bonding like this as well. They both needed a let loose kind of activity to bond to and this was just it. Vox was enjoying tickling her just as much as Velvette was enjoying receiving it. Her smile was a genuine one, not one of forced due to the scene going on in front of them.

Eventually in the screaming laughter of the overlords Vox relented when it seemed as if she had enough and calmed down.

The TV smiling down at her, offered her a hand to help her up. Velvette, who was all giggly still from the ghost tickles, took the offer trying to stand. “By the way, the electricity might last a few extra minutes.” Vox mentioned with one last smirk on his face. “Now then my dear, why don't I be the model. I will even let you put make-up on me and dress me in pretty clothes if it makes you happy.” 

Velve with an honest and gently happy look for the first time, then had a look of astonishment, “really? Why didn't you mention that you old rag before doing that?” 

And with a soft demeanour Vox had replied looking at the littler one with much content, “you look like you could've used it you were too tense. You need to remember our reputation. I can't have you running around making us look like we lost control.” 

That night Vox put on his best performance in a dress to make his daughter a happy one.

[petrichor-idyllic]

Hi hello! Can I request a Minho x Reader oneshot where the reader is working for WICKED but is like an undercover agent and actually tries to give out info for the Right Arm or whatever and she helps Minho when he gets taken back to the facility(like trying to find ways to free him or at least bring him food or smth when he's not being... yk tortured to death and all- it can be whatever) and she helps in his escape and they all go tho the safe haven where they live happily forever after- ok I'll stop now, thank you. Also I'm in love with your Minho oneshots!

Omg yesss this is such a good request and I can actually do so much with this.

I got really into this one so I'm sorry for the variation in my writing quality lmao. This might be my longest piece yet, so sorry it took so long to get out.

Due to the pronouns used in this text I am assuming it is Fem!Reader. I am also assuming this is based on the films because those events do not take place in the books.

WARMTH IN COLD PLACES PT. 1

MASTERLIST | MINHO MASTERLIST

PART 1 | PART 2

SUMMARY: See above. Minho x Fem!Reader. Movie based fic. Instead of Jorge knowing about the Last City and where Minho will be, you provide that information.

WARNINGS: Inappropriate language, violence, guns. WICKED being WCKD because movie. I'm assuming you know the rules of the card game Black Jack. This is also time inaccurate because TDC takes place over a couple of days but here you're getting weeks worth of events. VERY long.

You joined the Right Arm as a child, maybe ten or eleven- you can't really remember. You'd lost your parents to the Flare on separate occasions, escaping to a refuge camp after your father started showing symptoms and forced you to flee without him.

You can't even remember losing your mother. You were too young.

After moving from camp to camp, each one being safe until some Crank snuck in, or someone joined unknowingly suffering from the disease.

After the forth move, you met Vince. You tried stealing some extra bread for a girl who was sick (she had pneumonia, not the Flare). You got caught but put up a hell of a fight. Vince introduced himself, and you kind of became his adoptive daughter.

So, when he gave you an alias and a fake ID, sending you on a private mission to interfere and spy on WCKD, you were shocked to say the least.

But it made sense. Vince had been protective and secretive about you, making sure that he kept you away from WCKD's watchful eye. Sure, you're pretty well-known; but only by name. There's several rebellious attempts attached to your name, mainly spread around groups of activists.

But not your face. You were the perfect candidate for an undercover gig.

It took months to go through WCKD'S training, pretending to be older than you were with a name that wasn't yours, but it worked.

And then, even your fake name and life didn't matter- you simply became Guard 175.

It's been two years since you took the job.

Your time in the Last City was unlike any other- mainly stealing information and providing intel.

Until strict message from Vince on your smart watch tells you to keep an eye out for an Asian boy called Minho.

You knew of Minho- of course, you did. Vince and his new allies had been looking for him for the past six months. After the events in which Teresa betrayed you all, you were in the Last City. The Guard job you had required you to stay at WCKD's Headquarters at all times, since you were guarding the building. Even in events where WCKD needed more bodies.

All you could do was try and warn Vince, but by the time you found out what was happening yourself and managed to find a private place to send the message, it was too late.

So, now everyone's focus is on trying to find this random boy you've literally never met for ex-WCKD workers/prisoners. It's been a weird six months.

Much to your dismay, the only information you could provide were the routes the trains would be taking and that Minho might be on them.

Which got messed up, but not thanks to you. You told them the location, but which carriage Minho was on would be random based on where the Guards forced him to sit.

You were still unable to leave your post.

Vince had suspicions that they were bringing Minho to the main WCKD base, especially after you told them the documents stating the destination. It was really the only other option since they didn't save him. So, you're now under strict orders to keep an eye out for him.

You know what he looks like. You have an earpiece and a high-tech smart watch, both of which you keep hiden under your Guard's uniform. These were used to tell you what you had to look for. So, when you broke into WCKD's system, searching for Subject A7- information that was provided by some keen-eared boy called Newt -you knew who you were looking for.

"Miss Agnes," you jog, catching up to Teresa as she struts down the scary clean white walls of WCKD HQ. You hate it here. It's worlds away from the chaotic but cosy environment you spent your life in- from the small town that got plagued by the Flare to the Right Arm bases you helped run. It's too bright; too clean.

Part of your mission is to befriend Teresa. She's Ava Paige's personal lapdog, and if she likes you, you've got an in- and someone with power that will defend you. She seems to be fond of you, probably because if a lowlife peasant can like her, then maybe she isn't so bad.

You, obviously, despise her.

Your job wouldn't have become so complicated if it weren't for her, and you'd probably have a lot of people safe and sound in the Safe Haven. Your job was long, but it was originally to get as much information as physically possible and then flee, providing the knowledge to free more people and completely disrupt WCKD's plans. Now it's "tell Vince if you find this random kid."

"Ah, 175," she doesn't even know your fake name, "I was wondering where you'd got to."

"Yeah, well, you know how it is- busy guarding and all that." She scoffs. She's always found you funny; that might be why she likes you.

"Yes, well, as much as I'd love to chat, I've got to get to the labs." You're glad the mesh masks of your uniform shields your face because that means you can hide your panic.

"Sorry, uh, before you go- I heard one of the cargo trains was intercepted," her face visibly hardens, "I was wondering if that had anything to do with your old friends; the ones you told me about?"

She clears her throat, "I'm afraid so. I just-" she sighs, "Thomas thinks he's doing the right thing. He thinks that this is what's best for him- but I'm trying to do what's best for humanity. It hurts that they don't understand that. But it's fine, because we prevented the Right Arm from getting our most reliable cargo."

"Oh?"

"I can't tell you much, I'm not allowed," she throws a sad smile your way. "I wish I could, though. You've been a great friend. So, let's just say one of the most impressive and consistent subjects is still in our possession."

She walks away, leaving you to huff and puff in the corridor. It made you sick how they spoke about people like they're objects. It's hard to believe the boys you're helping used to hold her so highly.

You return to your room. It's basically a box room that's big enough for a bed, but it's the only place that offers you any privacy. You yank your mask off, tossing it to the bed and pressing your fingers to your earpiece.

"Yo, Vince, you there?"

There's silence, followed by a sharp static. "(Y/N)? Did Teresa tell you anything?" You flop onto your bed, letting yourself move your hand away from your ear now the connection is stable.

"Not really, but she did mention about precious cargo being still intact- and an important test subject. The records I told you about before our raid said the train was coming here- we can only assume that this subject-"

"-Has to be Minho," Vince sounds stressed, groaning slightly.

"V? Everything alright over there?"

"Not really," he sighs, followed by the sound of a squeaking chair, "WCKD's jets have been snooping around base and Thomas, Newt and Frypan have gone AWOL- Brenda and Jorge left earlier to go and find them. But I doubt they're going to bring them back."

Honestly, you'd never spoken to any of these people, but you knew the names well enough to tell who they are.

"What are they going to do then?"

"What do you think?" You sit up on your elbows, processing what he's implying. "You might be having some company real soon."

"Does that mean I'll be able to leave?" Vince snorts a laugh. You've asked him that every single call since you started this gig.

"It might, actually," though, this is the first time you haven't gotten a no. "Keep an eye out for Minho. He should be arriving there within the next twelve hours. If not, he's somewhere else and you're going to have to do more snooping whilst I try to contact Thomas."

"Okay. Speak soon." The connection dies with a hiss.

This was going to be shit.

Not even two hours later, you hear the call off of your walky-talky that Guards are needed at the cargo entrance to transport Subjects. You flew at the opportunity, rushing into the crowds of your colleagues.

Joining the other members at the doors to the carpark, you watch as buses full of innocent people in handcuffs pull up- all in the depressing WCKD garb they're forced to wear. Some faces are familiar from browsing files, some new- all looked terrified.

You stay away from the front, dipping between masked personnel and observing from a distance. You knew exactly what you were looking for- Asian, dark-hair, well built, about eighteen-ish, good-looking, and probably angry. That was offered by some dude called Frypan. You doubt that's his real name, but you really hope it is.

You watch, processing faces and people as fast as you can as Guards grab the Subjects, holding one of their arms, which are handcuffed together in front of them, and leading them into the building. This could be the perfect opportunity to do something, but by the time you spot Minho, someone has beat you to it.

It's definitely him. His image and description match him perfectly, even if his hair is a little bit flatter. You silently curse as you try to make your way over to him, only for another Guard to force him to walk forward.

Okay, new plan- grab someone close and stay nearby.

You don't get to use that plan either when Minho suddenly lashes out. He slams his foot onto the Guard's, making the masked man yelp and let go. Minho takes the opportunity to spin around, kicking the guy in the chest and sending him flying.

Another Guard comes to help, but Minho has got a hold of a pair of keys from the previous guy, just about unlocking one of his wrists before dodging.

Shit.

This is bad. There's no way Minho is going to be able to escape the building under these circumstances. It's brutal and dangerous and he's going to get himself shot.

You act fast, breaking away from the colleagues waiting for their turn and being affected by the bystander effect. You watch as a Launcher is pointed at the boy, as another Guard tries to wrestle him. The guy gets kneed in the groin and you dive in from behind.

Minho seems to sense you're there, spinning around to punch you, but you grab his fist, catching him by surprise and giving you a second to react. You'd done a lot more than basic WCKD training. Vince has been teaching you to fight since you first met him.

You launch your heavy boot into the bottom of Minho's shin at the front of his ankle, causing his foot to bend awkwardly. Taking the opportunity to spin him around, pulling him in front of you. You're quick to switch your grip to his wrist, forcing his arm behind his back. Kicking the weak spot on the back of his knee, he hits the floor with a thump as you hold him in place.

Minho is physically stronger than you, easily. But, you have years of practical and strategical training over his head.

"Not bad, 175," you freeze as Janson's grating voice hits your ears, "do us all a favour and take care of that delinquent- he's unfortunately important."

"Yes, Sir." He stands at the front of the room, watching as the Subjects filter past him. "Come on."

You yank Minho up, forcing him back onto his feet, he groans, anger visibly seething from him.

You hold him close to you so you can lean into his ear and whisper. "Listen man, I don't wanna hurt you but there's no way you're gonna survive here if you keep pulling shit like that."

"Why should I listen to you?" He spits. His voice is scratchy and hollow, full of hatred and aggression.

"You'd rather listen to these assholes? Trust me, I do that pretty much daily, and it's not exactly an ideal lifestyle."

He scoffs. It's dry and very clearly forced. "You think I'm gonna be your friend just 'cause you don't like your coworkers?"

Unfortunately, you have to be vague. If someone overhears and you tell him you're an ally to the Right Arm, then you're a dead man. If they think it's just dumb workplace drama, then they probably won't bat an eye.

"Quite frankly, I don't give a fuck what you think about me- I'm here to do my job. Unfortunately, my boss wants you kept kickin'." That's subtle enough to not bring concern, but intruiging enough that Minho looks over his shoulder at you.

"175," you're moving through the corridors now, having left the parking area and moving to Subject dorms. Your attention diverts to behind you as Janson touches your shoulder, having left his observation of the transfer. "Come with me. Subject A7 has a private cell per the request of Miss Paige."

"Yes, Sir."

This could be good. Minho has his own room away from the other victims, which means you'll have easier access to him.

You follow your "Boss", making no attempt to communicate with Minho in such tense circumstances now.

"That was quite the stunt you pulled," Janson speaks, making you cringe under your mask. "I don't remember many Guards being taught much hand to hand combat- we mostly focus on arms training. It's impressive."

"I excelled in the brief lessons we had, Sir. I knew some beforehand since I had to look after myself in the Scorch- fighting Cranks is no easy task." You keep your voice calm. A lot of people have similar life experiences, and if you haven't lost absolutely everything, you're classed as lucky. So, it's no shock when you casually mention hardships, giving a plausible explanation to your skills.

"I suppose so. You've come a long way, you should be proud of yourself- from street rat to WCKD agent. That's quite the accomplishment."

"Thank you, Sir, but I'm just trying to survive- just like everyone else."

"Humble, too," you can hear the smirk in his voice, "no wonder Teresa likes you."

Shit. Minho physically tenses at the mention of her name. If Janson knows that you're friendly with Teresa, then it's not really a jump in logic for him to think you're up to something.

"I'm honoured to be held in such high regard, Sir." Janson seems satisfied with this response, humming slightly.

Minho is quick to notice how different you spoke to him vs. Janson. It's very clearly a front, but he can't afford to question it.

He leads you to a small room away from the group Dorms, opening the door with a key card and revealing it. It's pretty much the same as your room, which probably says a lot about the people you're pretending to work for.

"Okay, Minho," Janson addresses the boy, condescending and irritating, "no more little stunts, okay? Your friends and the Right Arm can't reach you here. It's better you just give up and help us save humanity." He looks at you, jolting his head towards the room.

You grit your teeth, but follow the insinuation, throwing in the boy as guilt washes over you.

○ ○ ○

"I've found the boy," you pace your room once you returned, immediately contacting Vince.

"So he's there? Do you have access to him?"

"Not really- I know where he is but only higher level personnel have access to it- like Janson." You did a brief sweep of the key card requirements before you left- you're not Hugh enough ranked.

"What about Teresa?"

"Yeah, she'll probably have access."

"Okay, you can work with that, surely."

You sigh, running your fingers though your hair, "Sure, yeah, I guess. But what do you even want me to do now? Break him out? Release his file to you? Both of us escape?"

"I want you to keep an eye on him."

"Seriously?" Your face twists into a frown. "Is that it?"

"We can't risk anything. You're a one man show and one of our best resources- Thomas and his group are probably already making their way to you. God knows what their plan is, but they have more chance with you inside."

"How are they even gonna get into the City? It's on lockdown."

"I have a feeling they'll find a way," Vince huffs, clearly tired of your pressing. "Just a little longer, kid, make sure Minho is alive and okay- I don't know what they're gonna do to him, but I need you to make sure he's still breathing. Am I clear?"

"Yep," you pop the P.

"I also need you to keep quiet about your position, even to Minho."

"What, why?"

"We don't know what WCKD are going to do to him. If he says anything about our operation or you, we've done all this for nothing."

"I guess- alright. I'll sort it," disconnecting and sighing, you lay on your bed. You need to rest. These next couple of days are going to suck.

○ ○ ○

You wake the next day, and immediately start your hunt for Teresa. You have a hunch she'll be dealing with the Minho situation, or at least observing it.

The problem is that the WCKD HQ is huge. And you don't know where the experiments will be taking place. Since your job mainly just consists of walking around and keeping an eye on things, it's not like you're raising any suspicions. Especially since you helped out yesterday.

You turn a corner, spotting Teresa and Ava Paige talking, looking into a lab room with a glass window- one of the several open testing rooms found in this part of the building. You slow your pace, watching from a distance.

Teresa seems to be distressed; her fists are balled and she swallows uncomfortably, almost like she's hypnotised by what she's watching but wants to look away. Ava is unfazed, but she brushes her prodigy's shoulder as she walks away, offering some kind of sympathy.

The sound of clicking heels fade, and you make your approach. Going to speak, your breath catches in your throat as you witness the gruesome scene.

Behind the glass, Minho is strung up to some kind of contraption. Screens surround him and wires come from all over his body. He's stood upright, a foot above the floor and held in place as they start the machine again. One of the screens shows brain wave patterns that indicate high levels of stress.

"He's dreaming." Teresa speaks without pulling her eyes away.

"Dreaming?" You question. This looks anything but peaceful to you.

"Induced dreaming- they're forcing him to experience high stress situations to see how it affects the Kill-Zone," her words are shakey, and you latch onto that.

"You don't sound like you approve." She looks at you, even though she's never seen you without your mask, your voice and the numbers sewn on your sleeve tell her enough- she could tell its you from a mile away.

"During my time in the Maze- and the Scorch -Minho was brave. He's one of the most courageous people I've ever met. I can't tell you how many times he threw himself on grenades to protect us." She smiles, almost fondly as she looks back at the glass. "One time, when we were escaping the WCKD lab after being saved from the Maze, he ran full force and kneed an armed Guard. Completely knocked him out in one go; still probably one of the coolest things I've heard someone do."

"He sounds like he meant a lot to you," she lets out a sad chuckle.

"They all meant a lot to me but... I don't know. I made choices they don't agree with. They refuse to see the bigger picture, and I don't think they ever will."

"Why don't you try talking to him? Maybe visit him in his cell? Even if it's just to make sure he's okay." Come on, if you can get her on this line of thinking, you're more likely to get into Minho's cell.

"I'm too busy- besides, I doubt he'd want to see me. He hates me."

"Ah, yeah, that's a problem," she laughs dryly.

"Would you do it for me?" You tilt your head at her, exaggerating your confusion.

"Do what for you?"

"Look after Minho? Janson says you handled him easily yesterday, so there's no worries about him escaping or causing problems."

"I can't- I don't have high enough card access to enter the cells." She looks at you, thinking for a second.

"I'll get your card access upgraded. I trust you to take care of him- he deserves as much."

And just like that, she'd played into your hands. You're mainly relieved your hours of talking to her had actually paid off in some sense, that much was proven when she found you later that day- presenting you with a new key card.

Heading towards Minho's cell, no one even batted an eye when they saw you slide the key down the lock and the light flashed green.

Minho's sat on the floor, back resting against the bed frame, his legs bent and head in his hands. He doesn't even react to the sound of the door opening or closing.

"I brought you some decent food."

Still nothing.

Cautiously, you walk over to him, crouching and placing the dish on the floor. He looks at it out of the corner of his eye, which is kind of an improvement.

You cross your legs, sitting next to him but facing him. Silence fills the room and you let it. Minho is going to have to talk to you on his own terms if he's going to talk to you at all.

A good five minutes passes.

"You're not gonna leave, are you?" His voice sounds dry and is barely a whisper compared to the aggressive boy you'd tackled not even forty-eight hours prior.

"Nope."

"Did you at least get me a shuckin' drink?"

"...I'll be back. What would you like?"

"Do I even have a choice?"

"I'm asking, aren't I?"

"...Anything alcoholic?"

"No."

"Juice then."

You return ten minutes later with a glass full of orange juice, taking the sitting position that you had previously.

To your surprise, he's now sat with his legs crossed, holding the tray of beef, mash, gravy, and veg that you stole from the dining area on his lap.

You gently place the glass next to him, and he anxiously looks at it. "Not poisoned, right?"

You sigh, lifting the bottom on your mask and taking a sip, returning it to it's spot. He still hesitates, glancing down at his plate. So, you reach over, picking up a small piece of meat, struggling slightly to put it in your mouth under the mask.

He seems to accept this. It takes him a second, but he slowly starts eating- mainly picking at the food and taking slight sips of his drink, but progress is progress.

"You should count yourself lucky- the others aren't getting this quality food."

"Is that meant to make me feel better?" You guess that comment was a bit insensitive.

"Sorry, but you need to eat. You need the energy."

"What? So I'm strong enough to be tortured?"

You hesitate, feeling genuinely bad. "I'm sorry that-"

"No, you're not!" He snaps to face you, eyes full of fury and for a second you think he's going to attack you. "175, right?" He glances at your sleeve, "You stopped me from escaping."

"I stopped you from getting killed."

"I had it under control."

"Didn't look like it." His jaw tenses, staring down at his meal. "WCKD's Guards are trained with guns and weaponry- you're important but not nearly enough for them to risk you ruining their whole operation."

"You mean your whole operation."

"Whatever," you spit, determined to follow Vince's request, "I saved your ass, whether you appreciate it or not. I didn't know what they were going to do to you, I'm only here because-"

"Because Teresa wants you to look after me?" You blink at him, even if he can't see it. "Yeah, I saw you, even if I wasn't conscious. I knew it was you- same height and everythin'. You're helping that shuck-faced shank 'cause she feels bad that she's a shuckin' traitor that sentenced all her friends to death. Betraying little-"

"Okay," you cut him off, "I get it. I don't agree with it- do you seriously think I'd be here if I was just doing this because some bitch who doesn't even respect me asked?"

He looks at you. He really looks at you, like he can see straight through your uniform and into your soul.

"What other reason do you have?"

You shake your head, sighing through your mask. "Finish your food. I need to get rid of the dish- I'll get in deep shit if they find out I'm giving handouts to prisoners."

"The traitor didn't tell you to feed me?"

"Nah, did that all on my own." He snorts, kind of like a forced laugh, but he seems to relax a bit.

The remainder of your interaction is in silence. Minho finishes his food quickly, picking up pace once he gets taste for it. He finishes his drink, passing the glass to you instead of just putting it on the ground.

You stand and leave without saying another word. Minho doesn't attempt to change that.

This is going to be harder than you first thought.

Thomas better work fast.

○ ○ ○

You desperately try to avoid Teresa the next day, and you missed Minho for breakfast since they already took him for another round of glorified torture.

Your avoidance did not work.

"175." You've been guarding the entrance of the building for the last seven hours and you think you're starting to hallucinate. So, when Teresa actually approaches you, probably to leave for the day, you kind of wish she wasn't real.

"Hey," you greet her, for some reason smiling even though there is literally no point. "You okay?"

"I was wondering how Minho's doing?"

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" You attempt to joke, but when her face drops, you realise you've miss-stepped. "He's fine. As fine as you can be in this situation." You lie, mainly just wanting her to leave.

"Okay," she nods her head, accepting this, "thank you for this."

"It's no problem, Miss Agnes."

"Please, call me Teresa," she offers you a genuine smile and for a second you understand why Minho's so hurt.

"Okay then, Teresa." She flashes another smile before walking through the doors. Of course, WCKD scientists get high-end apartments away from the building.

The second day of your new routine starts. You bring Minho food- and you remember the juice, though it does make it harder to open the door.

This time, he's lay on the floor. Not the bed, the floor.

"Uh, you good?" The question even sounds dumb leaving your lips.

"Are you seriously asking me that?" He grumbles, eyes fixed on an invisible spot on the ceiling.

"Yeah, fair point." You sit on the edge of his bed, putting the food next to you but still holding the glass so it doesn't spill. Having a sticky orange juice covered bed would not improve his day. "I've brought you chicken wings and some fries, they were out of the healthy option."

He reluctantly sits up, shuffling across the floor and using the bed as a table as he sits in front of you. You pass his the drink and he sets it on the floor.

"If you're not doing this for Teresa, why are you doing this?" He asks between struggled mouthfuls of food.

You shrug, playing off your intentions. "Wanna pretend I'm a good person."

He scoffs, "No one who works here is a good person."

"That's why I said pretend."

You like to think you're doing a good job at keeping up the act. And maybe if Minho wasn't so exhausted and in pain, he might pick up on something not being quite right.

Though, you have to at least provide Vince with some kind of intel. Teresa said he's dreaming to stress the Kill-Zone part of the brain, but what's the point?

"What exactly are they doing to you?" He pauses for moment, clearly not wanting to think about it.

"Torture."

"I mean, I gathered that." Unfortunately, you have to stay stoic. Fortunately, you've basically been trained your whole life for this.

"I don't know- they put me in some weird trance and I see all the horrible things that's happened mixed with, like, a remix of traumatic things I've gone through- like they're using my shuckin' memories against me to make new ones or some klunk."

Well, that offered nothing, "What do you mean?"

"I don't know. It's weird. It feels so real and I can't tell it's fake when it's happening. But I'll be getting chased by Grievers down concrete corridors, or be back in that mall being hunted down by Cranks, except it's warped and keeps changing and I can't find the way we escaped. It's like being back in the shuckin' Maze, except they can control my entire body and make me do whatever they want. It's the Maze without being safe in the Glade at night, and I don't actually know how to survive."

"Huh," now, this is interesting.

"What? What is it?"

"They're trying to gain similar- or better -results as they did for the Maze trails. Except the Right Arm knows the location of all the Mazes, and pretty much all WCKD facilities so they're being forced to use psychological torture and hallucinations to mimic it instead. Since the City is on lockdown and no one can access it."

He pauses completely, blinking at you.

"What? I don't get it- why would torturing a bunch of immune teenagers help anyone."

"Because they want to cure the Flare."

"So?"

"So, Munnies and normal folk have the same structure brain, except the Kill-Zone area, the part of the brain that's damaged by the Flare, is left unaffected in those who are immune. The Kill-Zone reacts under extreme stress and produces new results and hormones that could, in theory, be used to create a cure."

Minho stops completely, the fork he's holding clattering onto the plate as he just stares at you.

"What?"

"How the shuck do you know all this? You're just a Guard but you know the biology behind all the science?"

"It's kind of common knowledge," you bluff, "the Flare's been plaguing humanity for a while- everyone knows the basic science behind it. I don't know what they expected, really."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you know the Flare is man-made, right?"

A beat passes, horror crossing Minho's face. "What?"

"When the Solar Flares hit, millions of people died, but half the world was pretty much left kinda intact. But, it meant we lost half the globe's worth of supplies and important necessities, so the growing population issue grew tenfold. So, for some fuckin' reason, the big bosses of the World thought it would be a smart idea to make a deadly virus to use as population control. The virus was too strong, spread too fast- those geniuses didn't think to make a cure just in case things went wrong. And, well, the rest is history."

You're actually shocked that Vince, or even WCKD didn't tell them this, because Minho seems genuinely dumbfounded.

"Shuck it," he rests his elbows on the bed, head in his hands. "Why am I not even surprised? Trust some random WCKD shank to be giving me a buggin' history lesson."

"Kinda figured someone woulda said something."

"Yeah, well, they didn't. Some shuck-face shucked up and now I'm being literally tortued to fix it. Brilliant."

"Bummer," he snorts at this.

"Yeah, you can shuckin' say that again."

"Why do you talk like that?" You decide to ask him more questions, mainly because you are genuinely confused.

"Like what?"

"Like that? Yanno, shuck, shank, buggin', klunk- you talk fuckin' weird."

"It's just how we spoke in the Glade. Don't really know how it started, but it's engrained in my vocab now."

"That's kinda cool," he raises his eyebrow, starting to eat again, "leave a bunch of teenagers to fend for themselves and they start makin' up words. It's just interesting."

"Yeah," he hums, "guess it kinda is."

○ ○ ○

You fell surprisingly easily into a routine. You talk to Minho, inform Vince of the current WCKD methods and then go about your job.

It's a lot of effort, but Minho is starting to be less reluctant to talk to you. He fondly retells stories of the Glade, like how he and Thomas survived a night, how bad Frypan's stew was, and that one time Zart accidentally burnt down a hut and Gally didn't talk to him for a month. It sounds like they were genuinely happy there, and it breaks your heart that Minho seems to wish he was back in that trap. Especially when he tells some of the darker stories.

But now there's a problem. Vince had always been touchy and strict about relationships. He didn't want you distracted or upset over some boy, so relationships were forbidden. And considering he's the closest you have to a father figure, you obeyed. Though, that means you've never been romantically involved with a boy through your entire teenage years.

And the first time you've ended up spending long amounts of time with a boy is with the torture victim you're trying to comfort whilst simultaneously convincing him you're the reason for his capture. A very good-looking boy who seems to be warming up to you.

A very good-looking, strong boy who listens to what you tell him and seems to be taking an interest in you and is very passionate about his opinions. Opinions that, unbeknownst to him, align perfectly with yours.

Oh no.

"I don't even know your name." You and Minho sit on the floor, playing Black Jack with a pack of cards you managed to sneak into his room. He's slowly being worn down. His features are more sucken, his skin pale and his hair dishevelled and messy. None of which you can really help. "Or what you look like."

"You don't need to know my name, or what I look like, to get your ass handed to you at Twenty-One last time I checked." He rolls his eyes. He acts like a completely different person around you than to the other Guards. It's hard to watch the empty shell of the person he normally is in this room be pushed around.

"That's not what I mean, and you know it."

"No can do, sweetheart," admittedly, you want to take your mask off because it makes seeing the cards harder. But it does mean you don't have to worry about your pokerface.

Pet names had become an interesting topic. You used to endearingly call members of the Right Arm things like sweetheart, or doll, or hun- something you picked up from your father. Something that has bled into your relationship with Minho.

Not that he complains.

"C'mon," he groans, "how am I meant to be friends with a faceless freak?"

"You think we're friends?" You ask, genuinely as you take another card off of the deck, cringing as it's the ten of clubs which takes you to twenty-five.

"Well," he shrugs, "what else am I meant to call it? Stockholme Syndrome?"

"Wouldn't be that wrong of a diagnosis. You taking another card?"

"Are you?" You shake your head. Minho reveals his hand, showing twenty on his cards, and you dramatically throw yours down, showing your loss.

"God dammit!" He barks a laugh at your reaction. "Why am I so bad at this?"

"You're just playing against a master," you galre at him, "I had plenty of practice in the Glade."

"It's a game based on luck- you can't master it."

"That's what you think."

○ ○ ○

Maybe you got too used to your routine- too comfortable with Minho and the situation you're in, but when Teresa told you she'd finally gained enough courage to speak to Minho, you knew it would end badly.

Teresa enlisted you to guard the room, but with the door closed and your colleagues discussing lunch next to you, it's kinda hard to hear what's going on.

That's until Minho screams the word "Traitor" followed by a loud slamming noise.

Shit.

The other Guards scramble into the room, knocking into you and halting your progress. You burst in, panic swelling in your chest as one of them holds up a buzzing taser. Darting forward, you grab the Guard's arm, placing one arm on Minho's back to at least play it off as the shocked masked man lets go slightly.

"Stop!" You snap. "He's subdued! We don't need to inflict unnecessary pain!"

"It's protocol to-"

"175 is right," Teresa comes to your defense, controlling the atmosphere of the room. "Subject A7 has been through enough- he's in no position to cause any further harm. Return him to his cell and only act if necessary."

Without words, you yank Minho up by the back of his shirt, cringing at the 'PROPERTY OF WCKD' printed on the back. You undo the cuffs from the table and reattach them to his wrists. He makes no effort to resist. He knows he's safer with you than he is with any of his other options.

You walk him down the halls. The rage seeps off of him, his skin under his shirt is warm and his cuffed hands are balled. Unlocking the door to his cell, you push him in, probably a little bit too aggressive. But you tell yourself it's for show.

"What the fuck was that?" You hiss, stepping into the cell. Minho immediately turns to face you, his nostrils flaring, jaw tense and for the first time, you realise how scary he really can be.

"You're shucking kidding, right?" He shouts, causing you to immediately panic and try to shush him. "I'm here because of her! Everything we did- everything we went through- is because of her! And you expect me to be calm about this klunk? Just because you can act like an apathetic shuck-face, doesn't mean I can!"

He slowly walks towards you, throwing his words at you. You back away, not realising how close the door is until you hit your back against it. Minho towers over you, still in cuffs, leaving very little space between you as his chest rises and falls.

"I'm sorry-"

"Sorry? You're helping them! You are keeping me here! Why? You clearly don't like them and have some morals deep down- but you're still bringing me to this shuckin' cell!"

"I have no choice!" You finally shout back, making him flinch. "I don't want to watch this shit- or hurt you or anyone! But I can't help you if I'm fucking dead, Minho! You can get away with this shit because they need you! They don't need me! If I step too far out of line- then I'm dead!"

His features soften as he steps back, giving you more room to breathe.

"What exactly do you want me to do? Trust me, if I could, we'd be long gone from this hell-hole but I have no way of doing that without at least me ending up in a body bag." You huff, crossing your arms across your chest. "And what use would I be to you then?"

The bed squeaks under Minho's weight as he sits down. His legs are spread, elbows resting on his knees, head in his hands. Neither of you say anything for a couple of minutes; you take the opportunity to compose yourself.

Until Minho sniffs.

"Minho?" You push away from the door, cautiously making slow steps towards him. "Minho? Are you okay?"

"I can't do this anymore," his voice breaks as he speaks, shattering your heart in the process. "I can't- I don't- how am I meant to keep doing this?" He groans, frustration mixed with a sob shakes his whole body.

You make the bold move to sit next to him, being closer to him than you've ever dared before at the bed sinks under your weight, you shoulders bumping slightly.

"This is so much worse than the shuckin' Maze- at least I had some control in there. But here? My body- my mind- I- fuck! I have nothing. I-I feel like I'm dying. I can't live like this. Teresa said that I'm saving some kid by being tortured. But what about me? What about all the other shanks they're putting through this klunk? How is this fair? For a shuckin' maybe? They don't even know it's gonna work- how can you justify this?"

You choose to ignore the final comment, even if it stings. Gingerly, you put your arm around his shoulders, rubbing small circles into the top of his arm. He doesn't pull away, his arms dropping to between his legs.

"It's gonna be okay," you sooth him, "we're gonna get out of here, okay?" He scoffs, shaking his head.

"How am I meant to believe you? I can't even trust you."

You know he's right, but it doesn't hurt any less. You wish you could tell himself everything. About the Right Arm and why you're here- everything that Vince told you to keep to yourself.

"I know," you sigh, "I'm sorry." He looks at you, his tear stained face and puffy eyes sending a new drive of determination through you.

To your shock, he rests his head on your shoulder, allowing you to hug him further, resting your head on top of his.

"I hate you," he whispers, more like he's trying to convince himself than he is telling you.

In all honesty, Minho probably had started to develop some liking towards you. And that's what he hates. He thinks you're the enemy, that you're the reason he's here- but he doesn't have anyone else. He's completely on his own until you come into his room. He doesn't even know who you are, but he's already getting attached to you.

"Yeah, I know. Want me to take your cuffs off?"

"Please."

○ ○ ○

You slam the door to your room, immediately throwing your mask across the small space, hearing it thump against the wall. You connect to Vince, fury coursing through tour veins.

"(Y/N)?" The line connects in your ear, "You're not meant to be calling at this-

"Vince," your voice is sharp and concerned, "I need to do something- Minho is on the verge of a complete mental breakdown and I'm starting to regress in progress." You refer to his words instead of his actions- things are already complicated enough.

"Look, I'm in contact with Jorge. Things should start moving soon; Thomas and Newt have made a deal to get into the City. Stick to the plan and be prepared. I need to go."

"What? Vince-" the line falls dead, leaving you alone in your room.

The tests increase over the next couple of days. You've barely seen Minho, and Teresa completely vanishes for nearly an entire day, which raises alarm bells all over the tower- but she returns seemingly unharmed.

Until the alarms start blaring not even hours later.

Fuck.

"175!" A masked Guard bursts into your dorm, scaring the shit out if you not even seconds after the blaring starts. "There are intruders in the building! The Subjects have been released!Come on!"

He runs off, giving you absolutely no time to process what's happening. Diving under your bed, you pull out guns and weaponry you snuck into the building, straping them around your black turtle neck you wear under your uniform before hiding them with your jacket.

You burst out of the room, pulling your mask on and joining the hoards of Guards flooding through the building.

You break away. You know that Minho will be in the testing area since he won't have been with the other Subjects. So, that's where you go.

The tower has fallen into complete chaos. People are shooting at each other and Guards are running around like headless chickens.

You can't get distracted though.

You break into a sprint, staying away from everyone else as you rush to make your way up to the lab where Minho can normally be found. The lab area is surprisingly quiet, probably because you decided to take the stairs for the most part. Using your endless training for Vince to run up the multiple flights of stairs.

You do give up and take an elevator for the last few floors though. You're not superman.

Bursting onto the floor, several scientists seem thrilled that help is here, and are met with disappointment when you completely ignore them. Sprinting down the halls, you skid to a halt.

One of the lab rooms has the door thrown open. A man in a white lab coat is lay on the floor, blood pouring from his side as others seem to be knocked out and scattered across the room.

"Fuck!" You exclaim. If you had any doubts that Minho could handle himself, you definitely don't now.

"175!" Two Guards stand at the end of the hallway. "Subject A7 has escaped! We need to find him. Come on!"

You're left with little choice but to follow them. You all jog down the corridors, the opposite way to which you were originally planing on tracking Minho's footsteps.

You can see Minho, and assumingly Thomas and Newt hugging beyond a room that's walls are all glass. One of the windows from the far room is completely shattered, and you can see a knocked out Guard on the floor.

"Hands up!" The Guard on your left shouts, catching the three boys off-guard. "Drop your weapons!"

Judging by the fact none of the trio move, you're assuming that they've ran out of ammo.

One on your left, the other on your right, you whip your gun out, pointing it at your unsuspecting allies.

It's now or never.

Minho's face drops at the realisation it's you. Was everything you said a lie to make him more compliant? Despite the uniform, he's gotten completely used to you based on height and the brown army boots you wear- different to the black owns adorn by the rest of WCKD employees. It's a subtle difference implemented by Vince just in case. But Minho doesn't know that.

"Seriously?" He snaps, making the other boys exchange glances. "After all this- everything that's happened- you're still with them?"

Newt and Thomas look completely lost, looking back at Minho, who is staring directly at you, hands still at his side.

"Please," you scoff, "I was never with them."

Without warning, you slam your elbow into the stomach of the guard on your left, using the shock to slam to end of your gun into the side of their head. The other one goes to shoot at you, but you rip your Guard's jacket off, throwing it at them.

It engulfs them entirely, making them stumble back. Pointing the pistol at them, a loud bang fills the room as the bullet finds its new home through the fabric and in the Guard's head. Their body hits the floor in a heap and you make no attempt to retrieve your jacket.

Minho steps back, stunned. His hands go to his hair as the other boys lower their arms.

"It's nice to finally meet you, (Y/N)." Thomas sounds surprisingly calm, Newt looks between him and Minho, the cogs setting in place.

"Likewise," you grab the bottom of your mask, pulling it over your head and letting it fall to the floor. Finally revelaing yourself to Minho, you feel slightly insecure about what he'll think of your face, but you don't show it. Not that it matters because he's staring at you in some form of awe.

"What? You guys know- what? What is happening?"

"I'll explain later- we need to move." The boys all mumble in agreement as you join them, hearing footsteps and Janson's irriating voice not that far away.

You all start moving, you taking the lead with more of an understanding of the building.

"What? I don't understand what's happening? How do you know her?" He asks Thomas as your eyes land on Newt. You've seen their files, a long time ago, but you can tell who's who.

Newt's skin is pale, his eyes dark and he glistens with sweat. He's infected. And you're not immune. This could end badly.

"She's with the Right Arm- Vince's secret weapon."

"Sorry I didn't tell you, hun, but I was under strict orders to keep my mouth shut. Let's just get out of here alive and I'll explain everything," you try to hurry them along. "Tommy-boy, fill me in on what's going on."

Just as the words leave your mouth, static connects in your ear. Vince.

"(Y/N), I'm on my way to the City- what's going on on your end?"

"I'm with the boys," you respond, completely confusing the trio even more. Voices behind you and footsteps make you all break into a sprint. "Here! Come on!" You pull them into a room, they barricade the door as you continue talking.

"We're tryna get out but it's not looking good."

"What now?" Newt asks as you all examine the room. "Is there another way out of here?" He asks you and you simply shake your head.

The drilling sound of a mechanical saw fills to room.

"Any ideas?" Minho shouts, backing away from the door.

Thomas turns around, examining the window. "Maybe."

It take the three of them to pick up a metal container, presumably full of anaesthetic gas through the window. It shatters on impact, sending shards and the cannister hundred of feet down into the water.

You all stand on the edge, looking at the boy as he seems to be questioning himself. "Okay, it's doable- just need a little running start."

All three of look at each other like Thomas is losing his mind. But you still all follow him further back into the room, standing by his side. You stand between Minho and Thomas, taking a second to think about how you life has led you to this.

"You sure about this?" Minho asks him, and it's obvious these boys are going to follow him to the ends of the Earth.

"Not really."

Well, that's brilliant.

"Nice pep talk." Minho sarcastically states, his wit still prominent as ever.

"Yeah, we're all blood inspired."

At least the feeling is mutual.

The door bursts open with a bang, all of you turning to face Janson breaking into the room before Minho grabs your hand, dragging you with him as you all break into a sprint. Jumping at the last second, you all plummet out of the window.

"Thomas!" Minho yells.

"Oh shit!" Thomas responds.

You're submerged in the water, just managing to hold your breath last second. It takes all of you a moment to rise again, all panting and all stressed.

Gasping for air, you and Minho look up, catching Janson standing at the edge of the window.

Thomas puts his middle finger up at him.

Kind of iconic.

Swimming to get to the ledge, you make sure they reach them first, taking Thomas' hand as he pulls you out of the water.

"You four, don't move!" You all immediately turn to face to group of WCKD's armed men walking towards you. Thomas takes the front as Minho grabs your arm, pulling you protectively behind him.

He seems to have forgiven you pretty fast, at least.

"Take it easy!" One of the masked men shouts. Hidden by Minho, you pull another gun out of your weapon holder that's strapped around your middle. Thomas also reaches for a gun.

"Ah-ah! Don't even think about it! Get on your knees with your hands in the air!"

One of the Guards suddenly turns around, shooting the other three that are standing with him. Minho immediately steps back, reaching for you and finding contact with your wrist.

"You son of a bitch!" One of them groans, the electricity from the Launcher leaving them useless.

Your savior approaches, taking his mask of and revealing... some dude. Though the others seem shocked.

"Gally?" Minho gasps, and you snap to look at him, returning to his side.

"Minho." The boy simply says. "You guys are nuts." He looks at you. "(Y/N) (L/N), big fan." You blink at him.

"Thanks?"

"I'll explain later," Thomas playful pats his friend on the arm whilst Minho is having some kind of internal meltdown. He's going to be enlightened by the time everyone's told him everything.

The other boys walks ahead and you look at him. "I thought you said you..." You trail off, completely at a loss yourself and remembering what he'd told you about Gally.

"Yeah, me too."

You both connect back to the group, awkwardly ducking and crouching whilst you run through the City.

Trying to hide from helicopters isn't easy.

"Well, they're definitely pissed," Gally states as you hide behind some planters that some trees are in.

"How far are the tunnels?" Thomas asks the new boy.

"Uh, maybe twelve blocks from here." Newt coughs, and you look at Minho, who is very clearly in some serious distress. "We can make it."

"Newt, how you feeling?" Minho crouches in front of his friend.

"Terrible," the boy responds honestly. "It's good to see you though." He pats his friend weakly, and you remind yourself to stay at a safe distance.

Minho joins the other boys whilst you stay with Newt. "He's one lucky shank," Newt tries to laugh.

"What?"

"Havin' you around- some badass chick lookin' after him whilst we couldn't. Pretty, too." You scoff at Newt's attempt at small talk.

"I don't know if he'll agree with that."

"Hey, Newt, we gotta get you up. Gotta get goin'." You help Thomas pull up the sick boy, who nearly falls flat on his face whilst Minho and Gally exchange some words.

Minho takes Newt off of your shoulders, sensing your slight distance from the boy.

They start struggling to carry Newt through the City, when a load explosion and bursts of flames from the walls stops you all dead in your tracks.

"We're supposed to take down WCKD, not the whole damn City," Gally stares into the flames, and you have no idea what's going on. But that's not good.

"Gally, c'mon," Thomas say, yanking them both away whilst you stand with Gally, waiting for him to move. Sirens fill your ears as you start to follow him.

"Tunnels are right up ahead. Shit!" You move round a corner, following Gally's instructions, only to come across a battle field. "Stay low! Stay low!"

"What are they waiting for?" Minho asks as you all hide once again. Unfortunately, he's answered as another round of explosions courses through the streets.

Violence erupts. "We gotta go! We gotta go!" The boys struggle moving Newt again, and you stay behind Gally. Desperately trying to not get hit, you hold your gun in your hands, ready to kill anyone that gets too close. Your job now is to protect these boys.

You retreat to a nearby building, where Thomas contacts Brenda over the radio. You can't make out what they're saying over the static and gunshots. You're too busy trying to shield Newt and Minho.

Though you do make out a clear. "I'm coming to you."

Vince.

You pick up again. "We're almost there," Gally pushes forward, taking the lead as you cover the back.

"Just leave me," Newt grumbles before a truck explodes, sliding across the roads.

A Berg flies overhead, giving you some glimsp of hope. But with Newt is his current condition, you can't keep moving.

"Minho," Thomas looks at his friend, "you run ahead, grab the serum, and get back to us as soon as you can." The boy hesitates, looking at Thomas. "Minho. Go."

"He's right," Gally states, "I can cover."

"Me too," you add.

"No, you're staying here, you could get hurt," Minho tells you, showing you that he actually might not hate you after all.

"I'm coming with you." You're more definite, putting your foot down and leaving with no choice.

Minho caves, going to stand until Newt grabs him. "Thank you." Black drool covers his chin, and his eyes are bloodshot and shifty. He's not gone just yet, but it's not far off. "Thank you, Minho."

"Hey, just hang on, you hear me?"

The three of you make your move. You and Gally cover the faster boy, both of you using your expertise to let him make a run for it.

Teresa's voice rings over the loudspeakers. Her voice trying to pressure Thomas to return to her. But you, Gally and Minho can't afford to stop and listen.

Running at full speed, you reach the Berg, not taking any time to acknowledge your father figure you haven't seen in nearly two years.

"Where's the serum?" Minho yells at a girl with short hair- you're assuming Brenda.

She makes a run for it. Bolting through the City and you're all hot on her heels, a new boy, Frypan, joining the mix.

The four of you get stuck in a tunnel during a shootout, using a car for cover as Brenda keeps going.

"Shit," Minho hisses from next to you. You look at him. "You should've told me."

"I couldn't," the poor Frypan clearly has no idea what either of you are talking about. "You know I couldn't."

"I could've- we could've- shuck it!" He lashes out, kicking a piece of debris that's in front of him. "We need to help Newt. This can wait."

He's mad at you. It's weird- he's protective but furious. He doesn't want you to get hurt but that might be because he wants to hurt you himself.

"Come on!" Gally shouts, "We're clear! Let's move!"

And with that, you're all on your feet again, dodging bullets and flying through the City to try and return to Thomas and his sick friend.

You slow to a jog as the people in front of you slow, spotting Brenda motionlessly standing in an empty pathway. You once again stay back, just about joining them as you watch Minho hit the floor.

His body crumbles in front of Newt's corpse, a knife sticking out of his chest. You stand next to Brenda, observing the distraught washing over the group. You've known Newt for under half an hour, but you can tell he played a huge part in these people's lives.

You suck in a deep breath, approaching Minho from behind. "I'm sorry," you murmur. "I'm so sorry, Minho."

He pulls his eyes away, looking at you instead as you rest your hand on his shoulder.

"You really couldn't have done anything, could you?" He's sincere, all of his anger washing away for a second. You shake your head.

He's on his feet in seconds, throwing his arms around you, knocking you back slightly. His entire world as he knows it is crumbling, but he's seeking comfort in you.

You hug him back, your hand coming to the back of his head, holding him steady as his body trembles. "We can't stay here," you whisper. "We need to move."

"She's right," Gally agrees, overhearing, "it's dangerous. We need to get back to the Berg."

"What about Thomas?" Brenda's voice breaks.

"We'll find him," you pull away from the boy. "But we have more chance of doing that from the Berg."

They all agree, leaving Newt's body and returning to the perilous task of making your way through the City. You take control, being the only person in sound mind to do so.

It takes a lot, but you get there, making sure everyone enters the Berg before you.

"(Y/N)!" You turn as Vince makes his way over to you. "You did it!"

"Vince!" Throwing your arms around him, you allow yourself to relax. You both pull away, emotions of the past two years of your life finally starting to spill out. "We lost Newt."

He sighs. "I'm sorry. But you did everything you could."

"No," you sniff, "I didn't. I could have done more- figured something out. Done literally anything else- I- I could've saved him."

Unbeknownst to you, Minho is watching and listening from a distance. He's known you as stern and in control this entire time, but watching you fall apart in Vince's presence reminds him that you're just another kid that's been put through hell.

He wasn't mad at you anymore. Seeing Newt's corpse and the sympathy you possessed showed him that. But now he pities you. He doesn't know anything of the sacrifices you've made.

"That wasn't your job- it was meant to just be a simple intel gig and it all went wrong. I shouldn't have put that pressure on you." Vince's words do little to make you feel better.

"We have to find Thomas," you compose yourself, returning to your normal stoic form in the blink of an eye.

You make your way onto the Berg, Vince not too far behind you. You make eye contact with Minho, but you don't have time to deal with that right now.

"Miss (L/N)," (you're assuming) Jorge approaches you, a grin on his face, "it's an honour to meet you." He holds his hand out for you to shake. "Ha! You're a living legend, hermano. In the flesh."

"Don't go praising me so soon, dude, this shit ain't over yet." He follows you like a lost dog as you travel further into the ship, "Have you got Thomas' location?"

"The signals weak and the building's burning- but he seems to have returned to the area of WCKD's tower."

"That's where we'll head then."

"Wait," Vince stands behind you as you ignore the stares from the Berg full of people, "the City's being destroyed- I don't know if this is a good idea."

"We can't leave him- we wouldn't be here if it weren't for him he deserves a chance at a happy life and we've already lost too many good people. We're saving Thomas, V. I don't care what you say." Vince looks at Jorge, who has a faint smile creeping across his and returns the stare.

"I'm doin' what the girl says. Kid's got fire; can tell you raised her." Jorge winks at you, making his way to the cockpit.

"You've changed, huh?" You don't even bother looking at Vince.

"It's been a rough couple of years. Let's just get this over with."

The Berg starts up, and you join Brenda, Gally, Frypan and Minho at the open doors, examining the City and the surrounding area of the burning tower.

"So," Gally starts, "everything they say about you? It true?"

"Depends what they're saying." You don't pull your eyes away from the ground as the Berg moves in large, circular motions.

"A lot of klunk about causing WCKD problems- apparently you were the one that convinced Thomas to release WCKD co-ordinates to Dr. Cooper."

Minho looks at you, but don't meet his eyes.

"Yeah, I might've had something to do with that."

You finally raise higher, examining the top of the now fully inflamed tower.

"There!" You shout, "That's them!" Thomas is clearly injured, half being carried by Teresa.

So, he did return.

"What's wrong with him?" Frypan shouts and you shake your head.

"I don't know. Jorge! Get closer!"

There's a struggle as the Berg moves, your hearing turns to static as all you can focus on is reaching them. Qualms with Teresa aside, she's clearly helping Thomas.

Come on! Move closer! Let's go!

The same phrases are repeated as you slide further down the door, clinging onto one of the wire hinges so you don't fall and join them. You grab Thomas, along with the others' hands grabbing towards him, with the help of Teresa throwing him.

You manage to pull him on, and he immediately turns to Teresa. You go to reach out to her, but an explosion knocks her back, forcing the Berg to pull away.

A missile hits the building, and you all watch in horror as it collapses beneath Teresa, swallowing her into the darkness.

○ ○ ○

The next few hours are a complete blur. Thomas had been shot and was seriously bleeding out. With the help of you and Vince, you managed to slow the bleeding.

You didn't even get a chance to admire the Safe Haven when you finally landed because you were too busy trying to save Thomas' life. You got him to the medical professionals, and after several jarring hours, they confirmed he'd be okay. But he'd be asleep for a while.

Since then, you've been spending all your time catching up with Vince and reconnecting with the people you grew up with. It's very bittersweet, and you haven't had the chance, or the bravery, to talk to Minho yet.

You decided to give the Gladers some space. They'd been through hell and they need to process and talk amongst themselves for a while.

After a while, Thomas wakes up, and you watch his reunion with Minho from a distance.

Your feelings for Minho are complicated, and it's beyond clear, so are his for you. It wasn't ever going to be simple, but the events of him turning to you for comfort at least tell you there's more than his initial anger.

"You like him, don't you?" Vince's voice makes you jump as you lean against a wooden beam, observing from your safe space.

"What?"

"Minho? You like him."

You scoff. "I don't think it really matters. I don't know if it ever will."

"You protected him and saved him."

"I also held him captive and did nothing to stop the torture."

"You couldn't have done anything."

"That's not the point, and you know it."

He sighs.

"I thought you were against boys and shit, anyway?" You glance over your shoulder at him.

He shrugs, "You're clearly more than capable of making your own choices. And we're not permanently fighting for our lives anymore, so I don't really have a problem with it. You deserve to have a normal life, kid. You might finally get that here." He rubs your shoulder, slipping past and leaving you to think.

○ ○ ○

Night falls quickly. Vince finally gives a speech, earning rounds of cheers from around the bonfire as you hover behind him, staring off into the crowd with your hands in your pockets.

Vince reveals a large stone pillar in the centre of the sitting area, talking about remembering those we've lost and keeping their memories alive. You watch as Vince is the first, carving Mary's name into the stone.

To your surprise, Vince then immediately hands the chisel to you. You blink at it, before realising and taking it off of you.

People one by one, with their own tools, take the chance to add to the memorial.

You take your time, carving names into the stone, recounting the events of your life. You step back, smiling to yourself, admiring your own work. Even under the depressing conditions.

"Who are they?" You look over your shoulder, your body following you as you stand sideways. Minho's gaze is fixated on the stone. He looks a lot better now, clearly having a couple of days to recover.

"They're uh, they're my parents," you avoid his gaze, but answer honestly.

"You lost your parents?"

"I've lost everyone. My whole family, but I don't think there's enough space for them all," the joke is dark, and Minho doesn't laugh, even when you scoff.

"I had no idea."

"How could you?" You sigh, "You know nothing about me."

"Do you miss them?" The question makes you hesitate.

"I barely knew my mother- the Flare got her when I was young, so..."

"That's not what I asked," his tone is blunt, obviously still harbouring some negativity within the complications.

"...Yes. I miss them. I doubt there will be a day when I don't. My father used to say something that I think is still important- 'mortality doesn't ruin love; it only makes it stronger'."

He looks at you. For the first time, he seems to finally see the real person that's standing in front of you. "Does it ever get better?"

"Yeah, it gets better," you offer him a sympathetic smile, knowing what he's talking about. "The painful memories just become... memories after a while. It feels like it'll never get better, but it does. It becomes precious instead of hard to think about." You step towards him, handing the chisel to him.

He takes it, slowly, seemingly letting your fingers brush against each other on purpose. You go to walk away, but his voice stops you.

"Hey, 175," the number stuns you, making you spin on your heels, rage flooding your features. But it melts away the second you see Minho's dumb grin. "You're right. I don't know anything about you- but I'd like to. If you're willing to tell me."

You nod, smiling at him, "Yeah, I'd like that."

So, when you found Minho sitting on the sand later that night, sitting in front of the ocean, basking in the moonlight, you take the opportunity to approach him.

You silently sit next to him, and he looks at you, following your movements. You pull something out of your pocket, lightly shaking the small box that he immediately recognises as a deck of cards.

"Fancy a game?" He scoffs, turning to face you.

"Only if you actually talk to me."

"Well, what do you want to know?"

"What's worth knowing?"

"Ah, well, that depends on what you deem important."

You fall into a surprisingly natural conversation with him. Both of you actually laughing at some of the things you tell him and the dumb stories from the Right Arm. You also somehow manage to finally win a game of Black Jack, much to Minho's dismay.

"So," you shuffle, brushing some of the sand off of one of your cards, "you still wanna be friends?" Originally, you said this jokingly, but Minho's hesitation makes you nervous.

"Not really," he says after a beat, and your heart sinks. "Shuck it," he laughs, "maybe I really do have, what was it? Stockholme Sydrome? Whatever. It sounds so dumb, but even if we were kinda stuck... I don't think I would've survived back there if it wasn't for you."

He seems almost flustered. "I don't know if my head's shucked or what, but is it really that weird to have a little crush on a kind girl in a mask?"

"No," you let out a content sigh, more satisfied with his strange confession than you expected, "but maybe you should talk to someone about that."

He playfully kicks you, making you feign an injury. "Yanno, I'd be lying if I said I didn't start kinda liking you."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah- which is probably bad because we had a very unbalanced power dynamic." He snorts at this, shaking his head.

"So, what now?"

"Well, what do you wanna do now?"

He shrugs, leaning forward and picking up another card. "I don't think I want to do anything. I think I need to understand you more, and process everything I've been through. Everything I've lost. I mean, there's no rush, right?"

"Yeah. There's no rush," you nod. "For the first time ever, we actually have time to wait."

"You're willing to wait for me?"

"'Course I am. I've got to help run this place and work out my own shit too. I've got enough going on to distract me from pining over you." You exaggerate your tone, making him roll his eyes. "Seriously, take your time. I'm not going anywhere."

○ ○ ○

"You reckon they'll be okay?" Thomas asks Vince as the pair watch the both of you from a distance. Thomas smiles faintly as he watches you flick sand at Minho over losing whatever game you're playing.

"Yeah," Vince replies, finally peacefully watching the closest thing he has to family enjoy herself. "Maybe not now, but that's fine- they have all the time in the world to be okay."

Oh my God, this took me forever. But, I've got no other requests at the moment so I figured go big or go home. Seriously, this was such a cool idea and I loved writing it. Pieces like these take literal days to write, so don't be expecting them too often, but I do love more complex and indepth stories.

Also, I am so down to do a part 2 to this if you guys want to see more of yours and Minho's relationship in the Safe Haven- maybe some more developing relationship stuff, or even some spice if that is want y'all want.

Anyway, I just know no one is gonna see all of this because it's just so LONG. Literally, this thing is so big my Tumblr is lagging. But still, I hope you enjoyed :))

[the-flaminhos]

Real or not real.

Summary: "You were struck by lightning Minho." "That's nightlock peeta!!!"

"Take me back to the night we met."

Word count: 3.6k

Tw: typical thg/ tmr type content. Electrical torture, mental torture, allat. Angsty as FUCK. Character death👀👀

All my love to you. - Nevaya.

I am not the only traveler

“I just wanna die me.”

Am I dying? It's so damn hot, I can't breathe. I continue swinging through the mess of vines, vines. I miss painting. I miss when life was just fear and living. Now it's fear and survival. Suddenly that's all it was. Survival. Trying to put as much distance between us and the Career pack makes me realise just how horrifying it must be for the siblings to go through this just after watching their baby sister go through. God. The last thing we need right now is a set of siblings on our ass about Glimmer. My mind is clouded with the worst thoughts possible. What if I can't save Katniss? I'll definitely try my hardest but what's telling me I'll be strong enough? I'm not stronger than her. Never was. I'll never be stronger than her. The pure and genuine fear coursing through my body isn't something I recognize. This is all new to me. As sweat trickles down my face and neck Finnick and Katniss chat behind me, something about making it away from the beach. She screams my name, why is she screaming? Is she okay? She yells for me to stop but the momentum in my arm sends the machete forward. Sparks fly and it all goes black—.

“Don't let me turn into whatever you saw, you hear?”

Am I dying? It's so damn hot, I can barely breathe. What even is breathing? Like how do we just know? God Minho, pay attention. I follow his train of sight as thunder rolls above us. It was just shucking hot, how is it storming? I mean I've never had to run in the rain so if that happens I'm cooked. My mind is occupied with so many thoughts at once. What if I lose more close friends? I mean I'll definitely try but what's saying I'll be strong enough to? I wasn't strong enough to save Alby alone. Thomas did. I'll never be stronger than Thomas. The fear that courses through my veins isn't something I recognize. It's new. Maybe it's the scorch or my new found fear of cranks but I'm terrified. As we pick up our pace sweat drips down my face and neck and all I can hear is thunder and screaming. Lightning strikes like four times behind us. This run is the third worst thing that's ever happened to me. He screams my name but before I can stop my legs keep their momentum and send me forwards. Light strikes and it all goes black—.

Who has not repaid his debt

“You were supposed to save him!!”

He's gone because of me. Where is he? Is he still alive? Why peeta…? Haymitch told me he'd save him not me. Peeta was supposed to be here not me. I was supposed to die not him. He's not supposed to be dead. He's supposed to be safe. Haymitch will never be the same to me ever again. I'll never trust him again. Even before this, trust was so so thin when it came to that drunk bastard. It isn't his fault. What was he feeling? Guilty? Horrible? Broken? Angry? Wait no, that's how I feel. All of that. That's how I feel. He promised we'd make it together, I broke it. All I had to do was stop trusting them and now he's dead because we listened to the plan. Why did we listen? That conversation on the beach should've gone differently cause now he's hurt and alive, maybe. What am I even doing? He wasn't safe because I wasn't fast enough. The walls of 13 are a lot like my home, cold, bare, depressing. No one here is happy. If he is alive, I hope to any god that'll listen that he's okay. I need that boy. My boy. Live broadcast? From the capitol? Tonight? Odd. What is Flickerman on about? Who is he talking to? Talking about… Peeta—.

"Minho—!! No!!! Minho—!"

He's gone because of me. Where is he? Is he still alive? Why Minho…? I told him I was sick of running and then he gets kidnapped? If anyone deserves to be taken away on that train it's me. I don't deserve to be this close to the safe haven. Minho tried for years. That's all he did. All he did was try and now it gone because I wasn't fast enough. It was Newt, he held me back. Why did I let him hold me back? Why would he let Minho go like that? How did he feel? Guilty? Horrible? Broken? Angry? Wait no, that's how I feel. All of that. That's how I feel. God I knew we shouldn't have trusted those bastards at WCKD. That talk in the bunk beds should’ve gone differently because now he's hurt and alive, maybe. He promised we'd make it together, I broke it. What am I even doing? He wasn't safe because I wasn't fast enough. The walls of this covered dock area are like the maze, dull, cold, bare. Everyone here is too happy. If he is alive I hope to any god that'll listen that he's okay. I need that guy. My guy. Updated map? What is Vince on about? Where's WCKD? Last city? WCKD… Minho—.

Take me back to the night we met

“I would've saved a lot of pain if I had just fed those damn pigs.”

I'm in this situation because of her. She's the reason I am the way I am. She's bad for me. I can't trust a traitor. If I hadn't liked her in the first place this would've never happend to me. She was right. Trust can only get you so far. Every day I lay on the mattress under leather restraints. Every night I fill my time with thoughts of what is real and what isn't. And no matter how hard I try it's all the same. Fake. I sit in the deafening silence, I'd rather the desperate love driven cries of Annie. Or the screeches of pure anger born from Johanna's coarse throat. Anything just silence. Please. The light piercing my eyes, the horrible blue white makes my eyes burn. I sat there waiting to be declared insane, because I am, when she calls my name. How dare she? Who is she to humanise me when she's why they treated me like a dog? Hurt her. Hurt her the way she hurt you. Hurt her. Why let her feel like you still trust her. Hurt her. She doesn't deserve it. Hurt her. She's why I was injected with the trackerjacker venom. She's why they didn't feed me. She's why they electrocuted me. She's why I'm insane. Hurt her, Peeta—.

“You're a traitor, we trusted you. I'll kill you, you traitor.”

I'm in this situation because of her. She's the reason I am the way I am. She's bad. I can't trust a traitor. Everyday I'm brought out into this room to be tortured for hours on end. Ever night I lay against the concrete mattress and just think. And no matter how hard I try to differentiate reality and their sick game i never win. I'm dragged out of my bunk bed, just to sit in a room that's just as silent. I'd rather the desperate fear infused cries of the younger kids. Or the hard cursing and anger driven screams of the older teens. The lights burn through my eyes when she walks in. She's talking to me. Why is she talking to me? How dare she? Who is she to tell me that what I'm doing is good when I'm literally dying because of her? Hurt her. Hurt her like she hurt you. Hurt her. Don't let her feel like she deserves your trust. Hurt her. She doesn't deserve it. Hurt her. She's why they make me sit through hours of trauma inducing nightmares. She's why I haven't seen my best friend. She's why they electrocuted me. She's why they don't feed me. She's why I'm insane. Hurt her, Minho—.

When the night was full of terror

“…”

What in the ever living fuck are these mutts. They're so pale, they're lanky, and they have no eyes. Before anyone allows themselves to think we're fighting to stay alive. Not too big of a change of scene. The sudden change from living to surviving was one I barely even notice anymore. It could just be because I'm half insane. Did I mention the water? It's horrible. The smell, the look, the sound. Everyone is screaming, no one is safe, and fuck are we tired. I'm pushing these things off me, off other people, and away from anything that's moving. This is another new fear, this was all Snow. Not like the games being the tributes you fear no this is worse. It's all Snow. And that man loves the smell of fear. I'm being shoved and guided up a ladder, Katniss following behind me. Where's Finnick? Fuck no. I shove past Katniss to see Finnick making sure they don't follow up behind us. He always did that. Made sure we were all safe before even trying to help himself. The ladder shakes and a look of hope flashes across my face. The same hope that made me feel like I'd be safe forever. The same hope the filled my chest when Katniss kissed me in our first arena. The same hope that made me think I loved her. That wasn't him getting up. That was the ladder falling. He screams for Katniss, and she returns the favour. The way she called for him was desperate but at what cost? His life? That isn't right. She knows it isn't. His screeches of pain are bloodcurdling, the pure and raw fear burns through my ears. What was more like 10 seconds felt like years. His desperate pleas and cries rang through my head like Katniss used to. Nightlock, nightlock, nightlock. The screams are interrupted by the explosion. He's gone. The one guy who kept me grounded, who made me feel sane, kept me in time. He's gone. No way. Finnick—.

"…"

What in the ever living shuck is going on out here. I just jumped out of a window with my best friends and swam to the edge of the pond to get out. We move to see Gally- Gally? What? One quick conversation and a shoulder pat later and I find out Newt is dying. The black, ivy-like veins that climb up his neck remind me of the time I ran through that maze and found my best friend half dead on the dyed red concrete. Thomas and I helped him get as far as his legs would take him before gently sitting him down. He and I exchange a few frantic words before I shucking bolt to get that serum.

I can't believe it, it was so Newt to play it off and I hate that I know that. Newt never really knew how to to explain his problems. Being second in command didn't have my perks. The barefoot run through the city isn't as freeing as I thought it to be. The sheer amount of adrenaline running through me is the only thing keeping me going right now. Bits of ash bite my skin and broken building stabs the pads of my feet. Through the flames and chaos I make it to the berg with Gally to see Brenda. We share a look before running back to find Newt. The fire casts a deadly glow across our faces, the wind colliding with our bodies as we push against the odds to get the serum to him in time. I made it after Brenda and her still standing figure spoke more to me than words ever could. He looked like he did that day. The day he attempted. Carrying his limp, half dead body through the winding maze alleyways. That's what this was but it only felt like I fell off that wall. He's gone. The guy I told my secrets to, the guy I shared a hammock with on cold nights, the guy I cried with. Gone. Newt's gone. He's gone. Newt—.

And your eyes were full of tears

“My last thought will be of your lips—.”

Holy shit this sucks. Everyhing is wet, hot, and so goddamn close to me. The lizard mutts, very mature Snow. This is too different to the Arena's, Snow had control but the main threat was the tributes. The real threat here is Snow. He didn't care who died he just know who he wanted dead. Everyone is screaming, at least 3 people are dead, and if I was just a little faster I could've saved them. They're dead because of me. Katniss is fine, she jas to be or everything I did to keep Annie safe was for nothing. Where's peeta? That poor boy. The state he was in when he was unofficially put under my care reminded me of a young Annie fresh out of the maze. The water reminds me of home. Of annie. Annie. Annie Cresta, my only constant thought. That poor girl. My poor wife. The chaos in her mind must be so suffocating. I hope she's okay. The chaos in here is much like swimming through the ocean of lovers in the Capitol, constantly fight to keep them off me. To keep the mutts off me. The mutts. Peeta. I rush everyone up the ladder frantically while trying to make sure these fucking lizards don't follow up. The way they follow reminds me just a little bit too much of the capitol bastards sending flowers to my home address and threatening to kill my wife. I push as hard as I can and decide it's finally safe enough for me to get up the ladder. To finally see Annie. My girl. The ladder broke. I'm dead. Not yet, but you get the point. Annie. Annie, district 4, home, the ocean, water. Water. The crashing of the mutts isn't like the ocean waves. The way they make my skin burn isn't like the sun summer. The marks they tear into my skin aren't like the one's my wife leaves when we make love. This isn't 4. This isn't home. I'm dying. A single cry for Katniss rings through the walls that contain this ocean of chaos. I didn't die in that arena. But I might as well have. I still lost to Snows sick game. And she was still my last thought. Annie. My wife. My love. My girl.

My last thought was of your lips—.

“Tommy, Tommy will understand—.”

Holy shit this sucks. Everything is on fire, hot, and so goddamn close. My head is pounding, everyone is screaming, and if I had been a little faster my best friends wouldn't be dragging me through a city of flames. Thomas is fine, where's Minho? That poor guy. The state he was in when we got to him reminded of how I felt as he carried through the confusing walls on the maze. The fire reminds me of the Glade, of the night I met Thomas. Thomas, my only constant thought. Tommy. That poor boy. My poor boy. The chaos in his mind must be suffocating, I hope he'll be okay. The chaos out here is much like trying to run from my thoughts of death in the Glade, constantly running my brain on other things. Death was always around the corner in The Glade. You never knew when your moment was gonna be your last. I thought I knew then. I'm full aware of my end now. Running from the flames. The fire. Minho. We're rushed to a semi covered area, Minho and Gally are sprinting and the changing is getting to me. I can't do it. I'm dying. Not yet, but you get the point. Why am I trying to hurt him? Why am I letting the flare win? Can he hear that it's me? Newt? Not the infection but me? If I were to love him as the undead I'd eat only his heart to know I'm the only who has his heart. Tommy please. Tommy. Tommy, the Glade, bonfires. Fire. The blaze isn't like the coziness of greenie nights. The way it makes my skin burn isn't like the sun in the Glade while I garden. The shadows they cast aren't like the ones that spread across his face the night we met. This isn't the Glade. This isn't home. I'm dying. A plead and a cry for Tommy is shared over a hug. I followed him into the maze. Into the unknown parts of the scorch. Into this bloody warzone. And I'm trying to kill him. I didn't die falling off the maze wall. But I might as well have. I still lost to the thoughts. And he'll still understand, right? Tommy. My friend. My leader. My boy.

Tommy, Tommy will understand—.

Take me back to the night we met.

Real or not real.

Home is so much to me now. It's more than a bakery. It's more than where the heart is. It's more than four walls. It's more than pain and tears and suffering. Whatever 12 was before is gone. Literally. Lost them all to the Capitol. But I have my own little family now. It's different being away from The Capitol, just being away. Katniss is great, we are authentically ourselves out here. She hasn't been the same since prim and she'll never be the same. Kinda like I'll never be the same after what Snow did to me. We talk to Annie a lot more than before, that poor girl, losing her husband and giving birth to their child must be so so much. Snow took so much from her. Innocence. Youth. Her husband. Her whole life. I'm glad we talk to her. Johanna is hard to reach. She never seemed to truly get over the promise she and Katniss made. Haymitch and Effie are so cute, Haymitch doesn't drink as much as he did, Effie ditched the heavy makeup. Finnick. We wouldn't be here without him. He's my reminder that good still exists, even if he's gone. The impact he had on Katniss and I is unexplainable. I am forever grateful to him. The older brother I always needed but never had. That I'll never have. One of the many things I admired about him was his patience. He was there to make sure Annie knew what was there and what wasn't. Life is still disorienting, I still pray that I don't wake me up from whatever dream Snow put me in this time. I have such a hard time getting used to anything new because if something new shows up it feels like I've just started imagining things again. Katniss is constantly reminding me that what we have is real. It's still hard though. Grasping reality gets hard when you have small copy paste versions of your wife running everywhere. Katniss and I had kids, my favourite colour is still that orange, and I'm allowed to think for myself again. It's refreshing, being able to breathe without someone questioning my every move. Being able to move without camera's being shoved in my face. We swim in the lake every now and then during summer, we play tag in the fields, and dandelion soup to celebrate forever happiness. To celebrate growth. Freedom. We're free—.♪

“No one needs me–”

“I do."

Real or not real.

Home is so much more that it was before. It's more than a hut. It's more than where the heart is. It's more than endless winding walls. It's more than Running and pain and suffering. Our Glade is long gone with WCKD. It'll never be the same and I think I'm okay with that. It's different being away from WCKD, just being away. Brenda is great, she is authentically herself. She hasn't been the same since Newt died but who has? She'll never be the same. Kinda like I'll never be the same after what WCKD did to me. We talk to everyone, especially Frypan, Losing Jeff and Clint, then Winston must've been so so much for him. They were a lot to him. I never really noticed how close they were until I realised how distant I was from a lot of people. Gally is hard to reach. He's been more open but I don't think he ever really shook the sight of chuck. Jorge is such a dad now, to all of us, the maze guys and Bren I mean. He crochets now, does something with his hands that isn't killing someone, he keeps busy with Vince as well. Newt. I wouldn't be here without him. He's my reminder that kindness exists outside of the cruelty that is one's mind, even if he's gone. The impact that he had on me is unexplainable. He's like the brother I always had. That I'll never have again. Newt is someone I'll never be able to forget. I hope. Life is still disorienting, I still pray that I don't wake up from whatever cruel experiment WCKD has put me in. Bren keeps me grounded, helps me come back when I float a little too far. It's still hard though. Brenda and I are officially dating as of three months ago. She's great for me and Jorge has already given me his blessing. I still run, just not for unhealthy hours, not anymore. We walk along the beach and splash in the water every now and then. And Fry's iconic potato soup to celebrate forever happiness. To celebrate growth. Freedom. We're free–.

“You hear—?”

“Yeah. Of course.”

A/N: AHHHH IT'S FINALLY HERE. Okay so I'd literally adore any comments and if you hate it PLEASE DON'T TELL ME THAT I WILL CRY. But constructive criticism is always welcome. A MASSIVE thank you to @zer0brainc3lls and @thirtyminutebreak you guys have been my rock through all of this :)) hope you enjoy this and have an amazing day or not lovelies <333

All my love to you - Nevaya <3

[cecilebutcher]

ღMelanie Martinez songs I associate with twst boysღ

!!Don’t like,it does nothing. Reblog instesd!!

Characters: every twst student + some of my oc’s

!!!Trigger warning⚠️: some songs contain very heavy subjects. You’ve been warned!!!

Riddle Rosehearts: dollhouse

“Places, places, get in your places. Throw on your dress and put on your doll faces. Everyone thinks that we're perfect. Please don't let them look through the curtains. Picture, picture, smile for the picture. Pose with your brother, won't you be a good sister? Everyone thinks that we're perfect. Please don't let them look through the curtains”

Trey clover: LIGHT SHOWER

“I was surprised to see heaven in your eyes. I never once was treated right, you're what I'm missing in my life. As bright as the sun, give me your vitamin D. Let's run into another dimension. You make me feel like I'm on drugs. I'm screamin' like a kettle on a stove. You crank the heat up, I was cold. My past grew mold around my heart. And all my anger, sadness, regret disappeared. It's madness, I'm not used to all this water, love, it's true”

Cater Diamond: VOID

“Pipe down with the noise, I cannot bear my sorrow. I hate who I was before. I fear I won't live to see the day tomorrow. Someone tell me if this is Hell. I gotta escape the void, there is no other choice, yeah. Tryna turn off the voices, the void ate me. Look at the mess I've done, there is nowhere to run, yeah. Holdin' a loaded gun, the void”

Ace Trappola: Lunchbox friends

“The hassle, the fighting, they all want a bite of me. Photos, more photos. Then gossip 'bout hoes that they don't know. Oh, they talk shit though. I don't want no lunchbox friends, no. I want someone who understands, oh, oh, no. Come to my house, let's die together. Friendship that would last forever, no. No lunchbox friends, no, oh, no. No lunchbox friends. Come to my house, let's die together. Friendship that would last forever, no”

Deuce Spade: Detention

“I'm physically exhausted. Tired of my knuckles beating. I'm chewing gum to pass this time of sadness. Can't you see it? You're too busy seeking selfish wishes. Don't care how I'm feeling. You write me up and say it's love. And I can't believe it. Baby, can you meet me tonight in detention? I can feel your blood pressure rise, fuck this tension. Let me crawl up into your mind, did I mention? Pretending everything's alright is detention”

Leona Kingscholar: Cake

“If I am just a piece of cake. I am just a piece of cake (cake) Then you're just a piece of meat. You're just a piece of meat to me. If I am just a piece of cake. I am just a piece of cake (cake). Then you're just a piece of meat. You're just a piece of meat to me. I'm not a piece of cake. For you to just discard. While you walk away. With the frosting of my heart. So I'm taking back. What's mine, you'll miss. The slice of heaven that I gave to you last night”

Ruggie Bucchi: Recess

“People gonna say. "If you need a break, someone'll take your place". People gonna try. To tell you that you're fine with dollars in their eyes (just remember) Don't let them, honey, no, oh. Don't let them try (ooh). Don't let them hurt you. Baby, just say, "Recess, I'm tired"”

Jack Howl: Pacify her

“Pacify her. She's getting on my nerves. You don't love her. Stop lying with those words. I can't stand her whining. Where's her binky now? And loving her seems tiring. So boy, just love me, down, down, down. Someone told me stay away from things that aren't yours. But was he yours, if he wanted me so bad?”

Azul Ashengrotto: Alphabet boy

“Apples aren't an always appropriate apologies. Butterscotch and bubblegum drops are bittersweet to me. You call me a child while you keep counting all your coins. But you're not my daddy and I'm not your dolly. And your dictionary's destroyed. I know my ABC's, yet you keep teaching me. I say, fuck your degree, alphabet boy. You think you're smarter than me with all your bad poetry. Fuck all your ABC's, alphabet boy”

Jade Leech: LEECHES

��Slimy and superficial. Straining their artificial. Yapping to seem official. Making it beneficial to their cause. How much blood can you draw. With your claws from a flesh that's not yours? My hands aren't yours, and. Gnaw on my bones, no marrow left. To keep you enthralled. I guess that is the luck of the draw”

Floyd Leech: Class fight

“Her face was fucked up and my hands were bloody. We were in the playground, things were getting muddy. The teacher broke us up after I broke her. And my one true love called me a monster. Mommy, why do I feel sad? Should I give him away or feel this bad? “No, no, no, don't you choke". Daddy chimed in, "Go for the throat". For the throat, for, for the throat. Daddy chimed in, "Go for the throat". For the throat, for, for the throat. Daddy chimed in, "Go for the throat"”

Kalim Al-Asim: Fire Drill

“I am not the government. I am not the fucked up men. I am not a part of anything that is hateful. Love is seeping out my pores, I don't hold anger anymore. Even for people who hurt and betray me (Okay) I am not the government. I am not the fucked up men (Gross) I am not a part of anything that is hateful. Love is seeping out my pores, I don't hold anger anymore. Even for people who hurt and betray me”

Jamil Viper: milk & cookies

“One, two, melatonin is coming for you. Three, four, baby, won't you lock the door?Five, six, I'm done with this. Seven, eight, it's getting late, so close your eyes, sleep for days. Hush, little baby, drink your spoiled milk. I'm fucking crazy, need my prescription filled. Do you like my cookies? They're made just for you. A little bit of sugar, but lots of poison, too”

Vil Shoenheit: Show & tell

“Why is it so hard to see? (Why?) If I cut myself, I would bleed (kill me) I'm just like you, you're like me. Imperfect and human, are we? Show and tell. I'm on display for all you fuckers to see. Show and tell. Harsh words if you don't get a pic with me. Buy and sell (buy and sell me, baby). Like I'm a product to society. Art don't sell. Unless you fucked every authority”

Rook Hunt: training wheels

“Letting go, letting go. Telling you things you already know. I explode, I explode. Asking you where you want us to go. You've been riding two wheelers all your life. It's not like I'm asking to be your wife. I wanna make you mine, but that's hard to say. Is this coming off in a cheesy way? I love everything you do. When you call me fucking dumb for the stupid shit I do. Wanna ride my bike with you. Fully undressed, no training wheels left for you. And I'll pull them off for you”

Epel Felmier: Drama club

“I don't wanna be an actress, living by a script. Who cares about practising? I don't give a shit. You're overanalyzing every word I say. There's a whole world out there, you're living a play. Fuck your auditorium, I think it's pretty boring and. I never signed up for your drama. Up for your drama, up for your drama club. I never signed up for your drama. Up for your drama club (ooh). I never signed up for your drama club (ooh). For your drama club”

Idia Shroud: Wheels on the bus

“No one's watching us, don't give a fuck. Wheels on the bus. I'm holding it down, up in the front. Wheels on the bus. Ooh, ooh, ooh. Wheels on the bus. Now, I'ma light it up and pass it. Puff puff and pass it. Don't be a dick and babysit, c'mon, just pass it over here. Counting cars as they pass me by. And I'm trying not to look a row behind me. 'Cause Jason's got his ass on the glass. And I hate him, driver hit a bump fast”

Ortho Shroud: Death

“Back from the dead, back from the dead. I'm back from the dead, back from the dead. I'm back from the dead, back from the dead. I'm back from the dead, back from the dead. I'm back from the dead (death), back from the dead (death). I'm back from the dead (death), back from the dead (death). I'm back from the dead (death), back from the dead (death). I'm back from the dead (death), back from the- (I'm back)”

Malleus Draconia: Pity Party

“Maybe if I knew all of them well. I wouldn't have been trapped inside this hell that holds me. Maybe if I casted out a spell. Or told them decorations were in pastel ribbons. Maybe it's a cruel joke on me. Whatever, whatever. Just means there's way more cake for me. Forever, forever”

Lilia Vanrouge: test me

“Hey God, I'll be the jester. Entertain ya to the best of my ability. When I suffer more, fragility, when I answer. Came here for a reason, oh-oh. So stop complaining, all have our seasons, oh-oh. It's not just a joke or a lesson to live through. Every which way in second, there's a breakthrough”

Silver (Vanrouge): FAERIE SOIRÉE

“Lips of sugar, I'm breathing the pheromones again. Ooh-ah, ooh-ah (ah). Hands are tied and Miranda Rights don't mean nothing. Led me astray to the faerie soirée. Alone, alone. Now I wanna ride with the magic. Lose sight of the gravity of home. Blue stars running on my forehead. Cold wings fluttering and moving. Mushrooms everywhere I'm turning. Laced with love, intensive grooving”

Sebek Zigvolt: play date

“We're just playing hide and seek. It's getting hard to breathe under the sheets with you. I don't want to play no games. I'm tired of always chasing, chasing after you. I don't give a fuck about you anyways. Whoever said I gave a shit 'bout you? You never share your toys or communicate. I guess I'm just a play date to you”

“Oc’s”

Ibhana “Vesper” Baske: Spider Web

“Better off dead than stuck in a maze. The center may seem like a gift. Once you arrive, it'll strip you of your life. And you'll wish that you never did. Spinning all your silk and moving all of your eight legs. To build a web that'll spread through the world. Feeding off our highs and lows. And curious to see us struggle. No one can leave once they merge”

Tao Yúchi: gingerbread man

“I need a gingerbread man. The one I'll feed. A gingerbread man. The one I'll eat. One who's always crazy. Never calls me baby. That's the one that I want. All you boys are not him, not him. Can't you see? I only want the ones who never see me. But I'm happy. I love playing these games until my heart bleeds. It bleeds jelly. 'Cause you don't want someone to eat your cookie. Can someone please. Find him for me, find him for me?”

Igor Kazentoc: THE CONTORTIONIST

“I don't wanna bruise for you. Holding back my words until my face is blue. I don't really care about your crew. You can tell 'em what you wanted to. Bones are crushing, bones are crushing (pushin' me) Bodies touching, bodies touching (lovin' me) Blood is pumping, blood is pumping (pullin' me). Feeling nothing, feeling nothing (fuckin' me) Bones are crushing, bones are crushing (crushin' me) Bodies touching, bodies touching (touchin' me) Ooh-ah”

Junto Shuisha: mrs. Potato head

“Oh Mrs. Potato Head tell me. Is it true that pain is beauty? Does a new face come with a warranty? Will a pretty face make it better? Oh Mr. Potato Head tell me. How did you afford her surgery? Do you swear you'll stay forever. Even if her face don't stay together. Even if her face don't stay together”

Jasper Spade: The bakery

“My boss is mother Mary. Catch me slippin' through the concrete. Show no mercy, step right on me. Stiletto death, send me to purgatory. The bakery, tryna make some more. They expect me to stay when I should go. Grab the bag for when they cross the door. It ain't for me to roll it out. It's just for me to raise the dough”

Najih Al-Amin: teachers pet

“Teacher's pet. If I'm so special, why am I secret? Yeah, why the fuck is that? Do you regret. The things we shared that I'll never forget? Well, do you? Tell me that. I know I'm young, but my mind is well beyond my years. I knew this wouldn't last, but fuck you, don't you leave me here. Teacher's pet. If I'm so special, why am I secret?”

Aikat Spanos: Mad Hatter

“Where is my prescription? Doctor, doctor, please listen. My brain is scattered. You can be Alice, I'll be the Mad Hatter. I'm peeling the skin off my face. 'Cause I really hate being safe. The normals, they make me afraid. The crazies, they make me feel sane”

Phobes Spanos: Carousel

“And it's all fun and games. 'Til somebody falls in love. But you already bought a ticket. And there's no turning back now. Round and round like a horse on a carousel, we go. Will I catch up to love? I can never tell, I know. Chasing after you is like a fairytale, but I. Feel like I'm glued on tight to this carousel”

Ya’ll have no idea how much I love Melanie<3

!!Requests are open!!

comments are more than appreciated. but reblogs help the content reach more people so please reblog if you want to like<3 likes do nothing. Seriously, don’t like, reblog.

[akab0mb]

A few moments between Armand and Marius that I love ❤️

Marius rescuing Amadeo from certain death, caring for him, loving him, cherishing him, and making the boy smile for the first time in a long time.

Amadeo is sick with a fever and he pushes his cheek to Marius' cheek to cool off (TVA pg 51)

Marius hires four new chefs after Amadeo tells him the Arabian food he ate for three days in the brothel was better than the food he was served at home (TVA pg 65)

Marius' beautiful painting of Amadeo

Armand writing a note to Marius telling him to start acting like a proper master 😂

Armand seducing Marius so utterly that he breaks his years-long fasting and drinks from him. (TVA pg 58-59)

Amadeo grabbing a battle axe and smashing down Marius' door when he would not let him in and talk to him - when Marius is being stubborn and emotional ❤️🪓 (TVA pg 79)

"Sir, mind my Master. You weary him, and in weariness he is a perfect crank" - Armand speaking of Marius (TVA pg 102)

Marius tells Bianca he loves her for her heart and for protecting Amadeo (TVA pg 215)

"You love me," I said, "as I am now, even more than before." "Oh, yes," he said. He hugged me roughly and kissed my throat all over, now, and my shoulders, and began to kiss my chest. "I can't hurt you I can't snuff out your life with an accidental embrace. You're mine, of my flesh and of my blood." (TVA pg 158) (the cute aggression! 🥹)

"Marius must have seen this hesitation. He passed his right hand through the very fire of the torch, and touched his warmed fingers to my cheek. Then he kissed me where this warmth hovered, and his kiss was warm." (TVA pg 179)

"I gasped. I turned my head and fell stupidly into Marius's arms. "Don't cry, Amadeo," he said tenderly in my ear." (TVA pg 187)

Marius and Armand drink from the same victim, and sometimes Marius holds the victim just for Armand to drink from (TVA pg 165)

Armand goes to sit and write after Marius punishes him. Marius approaches him and Armand knows it's to kiss him. Despite having just been punished, he lifts his head for the kiss even before Marius bends down. Marius confessing later he hates punishing Amadeo (TVA pg 206)

Marius hates punishing Amadeo, and always gives him kisses or pleasure afterwards. Amadeo always lavishes it.

How they nearly always greet each other with hugs and kisses, no matter the circumstances.

Armand mentioning that he avoids Marius because he is afraid he will fall completely back in love

Their mutual obsession with technology - While Armand is obsessing over blenders and microwaves, Marius is in awe over film and cameras.

"Marius stared at the distant house. My world trembles and I think of him, my Amadeo, my Armand." (QotD pg 242)

"Yes, my old child...." he murmured. He felt the longing for Armand again like music, like Bartók's violin phrases played in a remote and safe place where there was all the time in the world to hear. (QotD pg 248)

"Centuries ago in a palazzo in Venice, he had tried to capture in imperishable pigment the quality of this love. What had been its lesson? That in all the world no two souls contain the same secret, the same gift of devotion or abandon; that in a common child, a wounded child, he had found a blending of sadness and simple grace that would forever break his heart? This one had understood him! This one had loved him as no other ever had." (QotD)

"I love you," Marius whispered suddenly, passionately as a mortal man might. "I have always loved you. I wish that I could believe in anything other than love at this moment; but I can't." (QotD)

It was then that Marius came. He was trembling. "Unburnt, whole," he whispered. "My son." He had that wretched neglected old gray cloak over his shoulders, but I didn't notice then. He embraced me at once, which forced my girl and my boy to step away. They didn't go far, however. I think they were reassured when they saw me put my arms around him and kiss him several times on the face and mouth, as we had always done so many years ago. He was so splendid, so softly full of love." (TVA)

[alectoperdita]

Can you tell us a bit more about the confrontation at the kink club (in bad guys have more fun)? I'm very curious!

Yeah, I'm happy to spill a bit on that!

So I am super tempted to dedicate a whole part in the series to this, but given there's actual character/relationship consequences to this one, it's harder to write than cranking out more PWP. But do not count it out. Just waiting to get into the right headspace to tackle it.

Hacker!Seto has a history of going to kink and BDSM clubs semi-regularly, since long before he started sleeping with Jou. Not only is it a convenient place to find sexual partners when he's bored and horny, he also finds subbing (in specific scenarios) is a good reset for his brain when he gets "stuck." But since he got together with Jou, he hasn't been to one.

Until they have a particularly trying job. Jou has a pretty well-developed sense of Seto's mood at this point. And Seto is vibrating. He is snappy. He is Wound Up. Jou half expects Seto will be tracking him down afterward so he can get the tension fucked out of him.

Except Seto doesn't go find Jou. They finish up the job and Seto splits. Jou, now even more worried, decides to follow him. When Seto is this Tense, he usually starts acting recklessly. Jou is invested enough in him he's concerned about his general well-being at this point. (Plus, if Seto can stalk him, Jou should be able to return the favor, right?)

Jou follows him to a place he figures out is a sex club as he grifts his way in through a service entrance. It takes a bit but he finds Seto with another guy, talking real close and being kinda touchy and obviously flirting. Jou watches them for a while, super conflicted. Now they never discussed being exclusive. Jou's always kinda thought Seto might be fucking other people, but convinced himself it was none of his business. It's harder to stay impartial, though, when he's faced with apparent evidence.

(Yeah, he's jealous, but he knows he shouldn't be jealous because it's not like Seto's his actual significant other. It's not technically cheating.)

Jou can't take it anymore when it looks like Seto and his companion are about to set away and go somewhere more private. He slips in and pretends all "hey sorry to keep you waiting." Other guy gets pissed (lol he did not sign up to get roped into a cuck fantasy or some other couple play). Seto is also pissed because he just lost his playmate.

But they can't come to blows in the middle of the open area of the club, so they make use of the private room to duke it in.

No small part of this confrontation is Jou being faced with his own hurt pride. What? Was he not good enough that Seto had to go cruising for other dick? He knows they're just fuck buddies, but he was under the impression that they were both satisfied with that.

Seto has to brutally correct him that this isn't about Jou, get over himself. (In his view, it's not about any deficiencies on Jou's part, but in a healthier relationship, this is also where you talk candidly to your partner, and they're not in a place to do that until they're absolutely forced to. Like right this moment, lol.) They've been having fantastic sex, but it's fantastic vanilla sex.

Seto sometimes craves more.

This doesn't reassure Jou at all. Does Seto think he's incapable of giving him what he wants? For crying out loud, he was straight like a month or two ago. Now look at him!

Seto questions if Jou actually can. Because this isn't like whatever he thinks from his porn. Seto likes impact play, specifically. And he knows, he can see that Jou struggles with the violence he can and has inflicted in his past. He doesn't want or need Jou's issues bleeding into this. It'd be bad for both of them.

But they're both stubborn and more than a bit reckless and determined to prove the other wrong. (Yes, a healthier thing to do would be to cool their heads and call it a night and revisit the topic another time, but that's not the characters I'm writing lol.) So they try out some light impact play, probably spanking to keep it entry-level.

Long story short, I'm hoping this is the start of Jou learning the ropes when it comes to kink. Much like using his strength as a hitter for the team, it kinda gives him another way to recontextualize it for good. Or at least I hope it can be pulled off that way haha.

[wanderlust-in-my-soul]

Currently Watching - December

aka The Masterlist

Because I love a good little list - in alphabetical order! 😊

Regularly updated during the month, latest update 24.12.2023

A little link to my favorite bl-tropes-collection 💙

I am happy about gif-requests 🌼

Here you can find all of my gifs.

And if you want to show me something you think I might like, just let me know with #josistag

At the end you can have a look at what we can expect in September with MDL link and a link for a trailer (if avaible).

This is guaranteed to contain spoilers!

1. 7 Days before Valentine (1/12 WeTV)

Hm... This was not what I expected. The acting was a little bit over the top. I don't know if I can stand Sunshine. The feeling this first episode gave me was kinda off. I don't know. Right now I don't know if I want to keep watching it.

2. BL Drama no Shuen ni Narimashita: Crank Up Hen (1/3 on Gaga)

This series gives me so much joy! I wasn't expecting this being so funny! It is hilarious, a little bit cringy, but for the right amount and not over the top. It is really a blast. The characters are lovable and the managers are the best 😂 I am really enjoying myself with this one.

3. Cherry Magic (3/12 on Youtube)

I love the japanese version and I try to not compare those two with each other. So far I am doing quite well. I liked the first epiosde. I like Tay as this absolutely whipped character. And for now I am hating GMMTV for a lousing contract and the Japan's network for copyright strinking the series so we international fans aren't able to watch the series anymore on legal sites...

4. Cityboy_Log (11/? on Youtube)

Soon-to-be Idols, actors and models vlog their days of photo shoots and meetups and how they fall in love with each other. It is surprisingly good and the acting is excellent. It really feels like a "real" vlog and that is what we are all here for. I really enjoy those four men on my screen.

5. Cooking Crush (2/12 on Youtube)

I have to admit beside Not Me, I am not the biggest fan of OffGun. Their slapstick humour is just not mine. I can't get the right feeling for this series right now. I will wait and see how it turns out with more episodes... Guess I'll drop this one soon if I am not watching the next episode and catch up on the already aired ones...

6. Dead Friend Forever (1/12 on iQiyi)

Do I like horror? Nope, not at all. But so far I had fun with the first episode. Everytime there was some suypence I just looked away and as long as there are no creepy sounds I am good. The plot gives such a typical highschool/college horror vibe and I kind of like it.

7. For Him (1/12 on iQiyi)

I don't know if I will keep up with this one. Actingwise it is not that bad. We have to wait a bit for a deeper story. Right now it is just friends with benefits and I really hope there is something more to come. But a safe-sex-policy! I like that. And I forgot about this one... Guess it was a little bit much these past weeks. I don't know if I'll drop this at the end of the month or not...

8. Last Twilight (8/12 on Youtube)

I got fucking emotional when Mhok read from The Little Prince and they had this whole big conversation through the book and I am in tears just thinking about it. The Little Prince is very special to me. The series is so soft and so good! The friendship that they build up, the trust between them, the looks, the tension! I love it! And Mhok is the biggest green flag, disguised as a red flag ever! He is the warmest person ever!

9. Pit Babe (7/13 on Youtube)

Ladies and Gentlemen! We have an Omegaverse! I am still in shock! I usually don't dive into the omegaverse, but I did read some webtoons. I am curious how they'll play it out. What the hell was this conversation about wanting kids? Is there mpreg? Why do I have to think about such stuff... It would be something different indeed. But perhaps they wanted to have some fun with us...

10. Playboyy (6/14 on Gaga)

I am intrigued! I needed to call my best friend and tell her about what I have seen. Not just the amount of sex and masturbation and wet dreams, but the way it is filmed. I am intruígued! It looks like a romantic dream combined with porn. It is so artsy and it feels like watching a ballet. In it the dance explains the plot and here the sex, the camera, the lightning and everything around the plot describe the plot. It is so good!

11. Sahara Sensei to Toki-kun (3/8 on Gaga)

Toki is a little bit over the top for me, a little bit too goofy, but the obverall first impression was not that bad. And to be honest who didn't have a crush on a teacher during their school time? Mine was my german teacher in 10th grade. He was young and he wore leather pants. He was cool and really good at his job. I loved learning at that time.

12. The Sign (6/12 on Youtube)

I am already in love with this series! Mystical elements, a good chemistry between the actors, some fighting, naked men... What else could I wish for... Oh yeah, and an accidental kiss 😂 But I still enjoyed it so much!

13. Twins (9/12 on Gaga)

I don't know what it is. The story is... nothing special. The acting is okayish. Sprite's/Zee's facial expression need some time to get used to. And yet, I like this show! It is one of my most anticipated watches of the week. I like First and I LOVE enemies to lovers 😅 It is one of my weak spots!

Finished in December

Series

1. Boys Like Boys (10/10 on Gaga)

This taiwanese dating show accompaniese eight men on their six days journey to find love. All the contestants were so lovable and nice and unique. I enjoyed this show very much! My romance-heart had been fed over the past weeks with this show and with the last episode it got a suger overdose 😅 Because this is a dating show and not a regular series, my rating is a little bit simpe. I liked it so it gets 10 out of 10 points.

2. Bake me please (6/6 on Gaga)

This series is so good! It gave me a good feeling over the weeks. Even though the drama in episode five was a little bit too manufactured and a bit too much, I enjoyed the show. It made my sundays something special and gave me a real warm feeling. I can just recommend it to watch (perhaps binge it while eating delicious cake and drink some hot chocolate). I will miss it! And I liked Ohm and Guide together! Peach was such a sweetheart and his smiles made me smile. Guy... I loved you, than I hated you and in the end I just liked you... You lost me in episode 5... Because it made me feel so good, I give it a 10 out of 10.

Movie

Short Film

Dropped/On-Hold in December

Looking forward to in December

I Feel You Linger in the Air Special: Scent of Memory - Trailer (Dec 17th)

Cherry Magic - Trailer (Dec 9th)

It's complicated - Trailer (Dec 14th)

Colorful Melody - Trailer (Dec 16th)

Dead Friend Forever - DFF - Teaser (Dec 23rd)

BL Drama no Shuen ni Narimashita: Crank Up Hen (Dec 24th)

1626 (Dec 24th)

Wuju Bakery - Teaser (Dec)

Night Dream - Teaser (Dec)

[redmenacelives]

Good Omens 2: Has anyone broken down the songs playing in the record shop yet?

Soooooo, I've got Good Omens 2 playing in the background yet again while cranking out work for my own bureaucratic overlords (and thus am mostly just picking up audio), and I noticed that when Aziraphale goes into the record shop in the first episode Lesley Gore's You Don't Own Me is playing. Now I'm on the second episode, and this time when he goes in You Don't Have to Say You Love Me by Dusty Springfield is playing, and my little ADHD addled, dopamine chasing brain is trying to figure out why they were picked and if they mean anything. Does Maggie just really dig the 60s (I mean, that is kind of her whole vibe) or do the lyrics have some deeper meanings for the story?

You Don't Own Me is basically a fabulous "fuck off, you are NOT the boss of me and you can't tell me what to DO and you can't tell me who to DATE and I like having a life so I am going to HAVE A LIFE, thank you very much" song (which could easily apply to either of our ineffable idiots and their feelings regarding their respective head offices at the beginning of season 2, or--if you are down with the "Maggie is Book of Life Fanfiction Penned in by the Metatron" hypothesis, Maggie and the Metatron's narrative). But I'm maybe leaning more into the former just because of the second record shop song.

You Don't Have to Say You Love Me is--look, if you haven't ever listened to it, or just never really paid attention to the words, maybe go and pull it up on YouTube and also give the lyrics a little read through. I'll wait right here.

Done?

OKAY, so now that you've acquainted or reacquainted yourself with that little ditty--like, COME ON. THAT incredibly dramatic and over the top and heartbroken and pleading song sure does seem to slot nicely into the end of season 2, right? Right. I'm definitely not just slowly slipping into conspiracy theory-type-finding-random-connections-that-aren't-really-there insanity, right? Or, again if you are going with "Maggie isn't real, Metatron just has her playing real on TV," maybe we've got this song because Maggie is at the "And Here is the Complication that Must Be Solved" part of Metatron's fanfic. I AM NOT SLOWLY SLIPPING BENEATH THE WATER IN THE COVE OF INSANITY, RIGHT?

I am positive that we only visit the record shop one more time in season 2 (when Crowley pops in) and I'm not sure what song is playing there yet, but my little connection seeking brain is whispering "three visits, three songs, Neil Gaiman knows a bit about the rule of three" and "I bet it's a big old Clue about next season OR about what the deal with Maggie is" and now I'm obviously going to have to find out what the song is and analyze it to death, but also I'm just really curious if 1) I HAVE LOST MY MIND, GOOD OMENS HAS FINALLY BROKEN ME, or 2) if anyone else has gone down this same spiral and if so, what did THEIR Good-Omens-obsessed-connection-seeking-brain come up with?

I've gone full crackpot, haven't I? Whoops.

[zombiieiinfestatiion]

Speeding down the street, Henry and Patrick couldn't wipe the smiles off their faces as they belted out the lyrics to whatever songs came on the radio between them, cranking the volume up as high as could go without making their eardrums bleed. Passersby could be seen shouting their way for them to slow down and cut the noise, but they couldn't care less what anyone else wanted. 

Both of the boys were too caught up in the moment, living in the here and now until they'd laughed themselves blue in the face. It was funny, humorous even, putting themselves in clear danger considering the consequences if they were to skid to the side the wrong way or get even a single dent on their pal Belch's precious Trans Am. 

See, they'd convinced him to let them borrow it for the day, which had taken a lot of promise from Henry to not be reckless despite knowing it was a bonafide lie the second it left his mouth. But nonetheless, here they were, driving ludicrous speeds all for the thrill of it.

Perks of being a boy with a driver's license whose dad was well known in the small town force. Nobody in that station had the guts to pull Henry Bowers over unless it was Butch himself, and that dirty pig was passed out cold back at home, so anything was free game today.

Patrick could be heard cheering Henry on as he passed up stop lights and cut corners on the turns, all masterfully mind you. They were near Nascar worthy, at least in their minds.

Music blared out the rolled down windows, drowning out the screeching of rubber on the road, be it asphalt, concrete, or gravel. Even the back road dirt wasn't safe from their hungry tires, revving up for more with every gear shift.

Neither were buckled up, making it effortless for Henry to grab Patrick by the collar and attack his lips until he grew tired and pushed him away. 

A good tease, the latter would call it, enjoying how the adrenaline rush always led to fun little adventures like these ones.

Now, the two were navigating their way through slight traffic, bobbing and weaving with perfect ease until they were sailing past a tiresome build up, singing along with some rock ballad that Henry seemed to especially like, what with the way he put a little more flair into his bursts of the song.

It seemed to grab Hockstetter's attention, who had just been having fun mumbling the words, but after hearing the interesting vocal range of his partner in crime, he had to admit, he was completely enthralled by the sound. His lips turned up into a grin, eyes narrow and glued on the blond as he sang, finding it near precious with how hard he was getting into it. Closing his eyes despite driving, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel, moving his head and body. It was, well, a musical wonder.

When the song ended, things went quiet for a moment as they then almost hit a curve, but swerved just the right amount in order to miss it. 

"Close call." Henry jokes, taking a peek over at the other boy, who was giving him those damn 'lovey-dovey' eyes for like the nth time today. Maybe if they were from a cute girl or something he wouldn't mind, but coming from Patrick, it was freaky. "Fuck's wrong with ya, Patty?"

Ooh, he only called Patrick that when he was in a good mood. This was nice.

"Nothin' wrong here, doll." The raven swoons softly, raising his brow just a bit as he smiles with teeth. "Jus' didn't know ya could sing."

Immediately, Henry feels his face go red, hands gripping the wheel as he slams on the brakes, sending them screeching to a halt.

"Don't you dare fuckin' tell anyone." He hisses the words with venom behind them as he snaps his head to the right, pretty blue eyes blazing as they bore into Hockstetter's own.

Patrick then tries to speak,

"H—"

only to get cut off.

"I'll kill you, Hockstetter."

The taller scoffs in amusement, voice heightening, out of his control.

"I wasn't gonna tell! Geez!" 

"Ya better not."

"I won't, Hank! Honest!" He can't seem to stop laughing as he speaks, absolutely adoring Bowers' reaction to this all. "It's real nice, that's all."

"I said shut up!" Henry throws out a hand and grabs the collar of Patrick's shirt, yanking him forward as if he was going in for a kiss, but instead he just glares until he feels it's okay to let go.

He then takes hold of the wheel again and starts the car back up, shaking off a sudden wave of nerves.

"Could ya stop starin'?!" He shouts, huffing as he literally begins to pout so Patrick will do as he says. For some reason that always worked on the damn freak.

"My bad." Patrick giggles, averting his eyes as was asked of him. "You're jus' too much for me, Bowers."

Henry doesn't answer, starting off towards Hockstetter's house so he could drop the gaywad off and do away with him. Maybe he should return Belch's car too and call it a day. He wasn't feeling too well anymore, face burning hot from what he could only guess were butterflies. 

Gross.

[starseneyes]

Ineffable Husbands / Aziracrow / Crowley x Aziraphale - Good Omens - A Thought

Y'all, I am super late to this fandom. But, I devoured both seasons like Aziraphale with a plate of ribs and then went back for seconds, and thirds.

Up until now, WayHaught has been my favorite queer ship, but these two adorable beings have slithered their way into my heart and flown into my mind.

I'm not planning to Meta these (I'm still behind on the Spapel finale, the Chenford REWINDS, and never even got to start Nace). But, I do have a thought that I can't get outta my head.

SPOILER ALERT: There's no removing this once it's in your system. I will be talking about both seasons. So, if you're still unspoiled (as I was until very recently), and want to stay that way, proceed no further.

Again, this isn't a full Meta. Just my own weird contribution to the conversation based on uneducated observation and fanatical attention to detail. I might be way off in my interpretation, but I haven't seen this thought discussed elsewhere, so I thought it should be said.

Ready? Let's dive in.

Aziraphale Feels Love

We establish early in Season 1 that Aziraphale is able to feel love. We don't know if all angels share this ability from the show (maybe the book-readers can tell in the comments), but we know he can.

He feels it when they go to the former Nunnery. He feels it when they're driving right before they run into Anathema. Aziraphale feels love.

And, yes, the book is in my TBR pile. I promised a friend to give them script notes, and I've told myself until I fulfill that promise, no other reading. So, soon enough I'll be caught up! But, in the meantime, I treasure the wisdom of those of you who've gone before.

I could wait to write this until later... but like Aziraphale after doing a good deed, I'm about to pop!

Anyway, we also see Aziraphale reveling in the ball and the pureness of the perception of the era. He loves a slow-moving romance spoken through kissing hands and whispered conversation. While Aziraphale has not experienced physical love, he's no stranger to the concept of love in its many facets.

Crowley/[Insert Angel Name Here] and Aziraphale have been doing a dance since before the Earth began. The first time they met, Aziraphale was immediately keen on him. And The-Angel-Futurely-Known-As-Crowley was happy to have someone to share in his moment of triumph.

If we look at the Bible, there's the idea of companionship—that humans were not meant to be alone. I would argue that the same could be said of our favorite eternal beings.

The-Angel-Futurely-Known-As-Crowley was trying to crank all this up by himself. It's not that he wasn't capable. He could've held the plans between his feet, or something. But, an angel happened by who was willing to stop and help—a pure heart eager to lend a hand.

That's where it started for them. And I argue that at the Eastern Wall, Crowley wasn't sure how he'd be received by Aziraphale... but he had to try. And being the angel he is, Aziraphale chose kindness toward the fallen angel.

By the time we reach 1941 (which sounds like a very critical year for these two), they've been through a lot. They've formed "our side" and Crowley's loneliness got a little more bearable while the weight of Aziraphale's conscious increased.

They've traded temptations and blessings, flipped coins, shared meals, supped and sipped. But in their last documented interaction before 1941—in 1862—they had a fight.

Crowley asked for Holy Water. For insurance. And Aziraphale's poor word choice led to their first real breakup (that we've seen.. 1650 and 1793 had the "I Was Wrong" dance, so they might've broken up, then, too, for all we know).

"Look, I've been thinking, what if it all goes wrong? We have a lot in common, you and me."

They're still not putting a label on it. These cutie-pies have been doing this for 6,000ish years and they still don't know what to call it.

Now, to be fair, they're doing this in secret knowing that if either side finds out they'll be destroyed. So, can't really blame 'em for not knowing what to call it.

"I don't know. We might have both started off as angels, but you are fallen."

Gee wiz, Aziraphale! I get that you have to ground yourself in your deeply instilled rote morality, but way to alienate the love of your life, dude!

"I need a favor." "We already have the Agreement, Crowley..."

Before, Aziraphale didn't want to put a label on that, either. Now, we saw back with Shakespeare that Crowley's the one who came up with that label.

But labeling aspects of their relationship is easy for Crowley. Labeling them is another thing entirely. And it's the last thing on Crowley's mind—this time he's actively asking for something outside the norm.

This is a new layer to their trust in one another. Crowley is asking Aziraphale to take a huge risk, and Aziraphale is mis-reading the situation.

"Out of the question." "Why not?" "It would destroy you. I'm not bringing you a suicide pill, Crowley." "That's not what I want it for."

They're talking past one another. Yes, I know this is classic them. But before the bickering can get much further, Aziraphale drops this on him:

"I'm not an idiot, Crowley. Do you know what trouble I'd be in if... if they knew I'd been fraternising?" ... "Fraternising?"

"Fraternising" applies to brotherhood and friendship. To this point, the only one we've seen call them "friends" was an outsider at the Theater. Neither of them has yet adopted the moniker "friend" when addressing the other or speaking conversationally about the other.

And, yes, we're going with the English spelling on this one. No, the characters aren't actually English. But they've both chosen English accents for their existence, so we're gonna roll with it.

"I have lots of other people to fraternise with, Angel." "Of course you do." "I don't need you." "And the feeling is mutual, obviously."

Of course these two idiots need each other. They're utterly alone in the world without one another—both aligned with a side... as far as they can go... but also with each other.

But Crowley is lashing out. Because he's not ready to put a label on this, and he has to keep himself distanced from Aziraphale and anyone associated with his former bosses.

And Aziraphale's fighting to maintain his very black-and-white view of good and evil, here, so as soon as Crowley seems ready to walk away, so is he. Though, we all know deep down neither of them truly want that.

In a fit of anger, Aziraphale flings the paper at the water. And, in an appropriate measure of response, the scrap obeys the laws of physics and flits down to the water rather than sinking into it like a thrown stone.

That's how we leave them (so far as we know)... at odds and decoupled in 1862.

Then comes 1941. The blissfully gullible angel has tried to do right and found himself in the snares of a trap. Bless his heart. (Yes, I'm a Southern Yank—which sounds contradictory, but I briefly studied at Leicester, so I know what my Uni mates'd call me)

"What are you doing here?"

The last interaction of which we're aware prior to this is the one where Crowley dramatically announced he didn't need Aziraphale, and our angel boy responded in kind.

So, while there have been many scrapes before where Crowley played hero to Aziraphale's damsel-in-distress, our angel wasn't awaiting rescue this time. He's genuinely surprised to see Crowley there.

But Crowley has had time in the in-between to consider their friendship and what it would mean to him if Aziraphale were to be discorporated, and if that would lead to him losing his place on Earth. Crowley can't have that.

Aziraphale assumes Crowley's there with the baddies. But, no, he's there for his angel.

"I just didn't want to see you embarrassed."

Watch Aziraphale soak that in. He turns his head to the left, away from Crowley, as he often does when confused or struck by something his sweet demon has said.

"Anthony?" "You don't like it?" "No, no. I didn't say that. I'll get used to it." ... "What does the J stand for?" "It's just a J, really."

Without so much as an apology from either one, they've fallen into a familiar rhythm. And, yes, apologies are very important, and these two need to get the hang of them, someday. But we can clearly see why they've survived so long without them.

When you're about the be discorporated at any moment, time for apologies is short.

"And if, in thirty seconds, a bomb does land here, it would take a real miracle for my friend and I to survive it." "A real miracle."

Of course, we're all focusing on the fact that Crowley is saying, "I did the bomb, you're doing the saving". But there's also a key word in there... friend.

Not so long ago (in their time, anyway), Crowley was incensed at the use of the word "fraternising", yet here he is calling this angel his friend.

I think in the time apart, Crowley realized just how important Aziraphale is to him. He really doesn't get along with the other demons on a social level, and he's failed to make any lasting human attachments. In all the universe, there's one being he can count on—his angel.

So, while we all know "friend" barely begins to cover it with these two, Crowley is finally ready for that label. Friends.

"That was very kind of you." "Shut up."

There's Aziraphale trying to thank Crowley without thanking him, once again pointing out what he sees as angelic traces in the demon before him.

And there's Crowley rejecting those same traces with all his being because he's embraced his exile internally and can't sever from that headspace anymore than Aziraphale from his desire for Heaven's affirmation and acceptance.

"Oh, the book! Oh, I forgot all the books."

Because in this moment of importance, he's going to prioritize Crowley. He put everything he had into keeping them from being discorporated.

But Crowley's wearing a smirk with flare. While the angel flails, Crowley strides confidently to the waiting bag of books.

"Oh, they'll all be blown to…"

His words trail off as he sees Crowley's right hand holding the precious bag. The music shifts as soon as Aziraphale makes the realization—Crowley saved the books.

"Little demonic miracle of my own. Lift home?"

Their fingers barely overlap as they exchange the bag, Crowley looking to not make a big deal of this. But it is a big deal.

Much as Gabriel was smitten with Beelzebub for a gift, Aziraphale is swayed by Crowley's first true act of love towards him this side of Heaven.

Yes, Crowley has saved Aziraphale multiple times. They've crossed paths over and over. But something's different. This time, Crowley called them friends. This time, there was something extra.

And while I know we were all taken in by Aziraphale looking at Crowley like he'd hung the moon and stars in the sky... which he technically did... there's a little sigh there that makes me wonder—was this the moment Aziraphale felt love from Crowley for the first time?

Remember, Aziraphale feels love. And we can tell he's enamored with Crowley long before this moment. Remember how his eyes lit up to hear his love's voice when he was locked in the Bastille? Remember the heart eyes he gave Crowley in hopes that the demon would work a miracle for Hamlet?

Yes, I believe Aziraphale feels his own affection for Crowley growing... but in part because he feels Crowley's love for him.

Now, there are many types of love. It doesn't have to necessarily be romantic (though we all know it is). But it plays into Aziraphale's prevailing theory that the demon is at least a little good and capable of good things—including love.

I think it's easy to pass off waves of love from around you as something else when you're not touching the person who loves you. Because they did touch as they traded that precious bag of books.

And that was an act of love. Beyond saving lives, Crowley protected something material that held meaning for Aziraphale. We all know Crowley's repeatedly stated that he doesn't read books. He doesn't adore them as Aziraphale does—but that doesn't matter.

Crowley saved the books because no matter what they meant to him—nothing—he knew they meant the world to the one who means the world to him.

It was an act of love. And I fully believe Aziraphale felt it.

Slipping into Season 2 with that same night, we can see that Aziraphale's still reveling in that feeling in the car with Crowley as they race through the embattled streets of London during the Blitz.

I paused it at a particularly adoring look from Aziraphale to Crowley. I mean, he's basking in his love.

"You know, that was a very nice thing you did for me." "Shut up." "There must be something I can do for you in return?" "Forget it, will you?"

Crowley's not ready to talk about it. He's never ready to talk about it... not until it's too late. And it's always too late, right?

But Aziraphale is fully enamored and looking for a way to reciprocate. This goes outside their usual Arrangement, and you can tell he's filled with feelings and wants to channel them into an act of love for Crowley.

And Crowley's brushing it off. Because it's easier for him to act than it is for him to talk. If you label it or try to define it, he's going to jump ship. But if you let it be, he's happy to ride the wave of... whatever this is.

Rather than wait in the car, Aziraphale follows Crowley inside. They're both savoring the time together, this time. It's somehow different, and I love that.

"Um, I wonder if I might be able to help you on behalf of my... uh, good friend here."

And, there it is. Aziraphale sees a way to live one of his greatest fantasies and help out Crowley. He has nothing to give him, but this'll do the trick, eh?

Also, look at him adopting "friend" as quickly as Crowley was willing to claim it. While Crowley is the one pushing them forward in many ways, he holds them back in others. This was a case where Aziraphale was a little faster to move forward emotionally than Crowley.

And this is the first night they've spent together in some time, if what we know of canon holds true.

Why am I going into all this!? Because, 1941 feels like one of the bigger turning points of their relationship. Of course, Job was, too. But I spent so much time watching that final confrontational scene of Season 2 Episode 6 only to keep returning to 1941 in my head.

I saw folks positing that Crowley's confession was the first time Aziraphale felt his beloved's love... but I argue he's felt it in waves throughout the centuries and been able to dismiss it as coming from somewhere else.

When their fingers touched in 1941 as Crowley gave Aziraphale a most-treasured gift—his books' survival—it was undeniable. Aziraphale felt Crowley's love.

And he spends the rest of this night trying to return Crowley's affection.

"Cheers for getting me off the hook." "Oh, there's no need to thank me. That's what... friends... are for."

He's still testing it out. The last time he used a word even close to that, Crowley had walked out of his life for half a century. But this time Crowley isn't correcting him, and Aziraphale loves that.

"You're going to need a 100% reliable marksman. Someone you can really trust." ... "Oh, I've got the perfect man for the job. At least, I think I have."

There's no question in Aziraphale's mind that he trusts Crowley enough to aim a bloody firearm at his face, pull the trigger, and that he'll be just fine afterwards.

And Crowley knows he's never fired a gun, but he also knows that if he doesn't say yes to this, his angel's gonna try to find someone else who will—and he can't have that.

He knows he'll miracle it away if something goes wrong. Crowley has to be the one to keep his angel out of harm's way.

"Haven't you fired a gun before?" "Not as such."

You. Two. Idiots. Seriously gotta work on your communication skills. but watch how Crowley's trigger finger actually shakes as he feels the weight of Aziraphale's trust in him.

That's love. That absolute trust. And while Crowley doesn't fully understand what's going on between them, he knows he can't betray that trust. He can't let anything happen to Aziraphale, and he's going to find a way to protect him.

Afterwards, backstage they're sharing the evening like a pair of old lovers celebrating a win. Crowley's lounging on the chaise longue. A triumphant Aziraphale winds a feathered boa around his neck. They're reveling in this moment, and it's the most relaxed we've seen them together to this point.

They could have gone separate ways as soon as the trick was achieved, but Crowley chooses to stay with Aziraphale. He's spent the last 50 years without him, realizing just how much this angel means to him, so he lingers.

Afterwards, they're back in the bookshop sharing wine on what Crowley believes may be his last night on Earth. He chose to spend it with the person he most wanted to be near.

And, yes, Aziraphale knows that he switched out the photo, but Crowley doesn't. For all his anger at their last meeting about "fraternising", it's all he seems to want to do, now.

Aziraphale notes that Crowley's glass is empty and fills it—a small act of love... but it's there. Feeling enamored and inspired, he tests the waters of discussion.

"I, uh, I knew you would come through for me. You always do."

Crowley tosses it off, but doesn't completely ignore the subject, for once.

"Well, you said, 'trust me'." "And you did."

He almost whispers it, like the three little words a lover whispers affectionately to their dear one. It's trust.

For an angel to be able to trust a demon... for a demon to be able to trust an angel... that right there is so far outside the bounds of what they both have been told is supposed to be.

But in one another they found one being in existence that they know will trust them wholeheartedly, and whom they can trust in return.

"You could've walked away. If you were truly as evil as you like to paint yourself, you would've done." "Nah, that's the trouble with you lot. You tend to see things in black and white. Sometimes, you've just gotta blur the edges."

And, let's be honest, his lot tend to see things the same way. Crowley is unique in that he truly wishes to understand. It's not that he wanted to thwart the will of God. He wanted to understand what was happening, to question it, to delve deeper than unanswered, unwavering dedication to a "Great Plan" that didn't make sense.

In Aziraphale, he's found someone as close to his morality as he'll ever discover (someone who goes as far as he can, but ultimately has a separate moral code). But Aziraphale lacks Crowley's distance from Heaven, and thus lacks his perspective. That'll eventually catch up to them.

But, tonight, they're both savoring the seconds of shared security. In the safety of the bookshop, they toast to, well, them.

"Well maybe there is something to be said for... shades of grey."

Aziraphale holds out his glass to Crowley, inviting the agreement. And, of course, Crowley will drink to that. Because that's where their love lies. In the black and white, it wouldn't be possible.

But because these two beings are able to think in the grey, to live in the grey, to love in the grey... they have a snowball's chance in hell of making it. Because something majorly shifts between them in 1941.

Yes, they've been doing this love dance since the beginning. But I think in feeling Crowley's love, Aziraphale is that tiny bit more emboldened.

Yet even after all that... Aziraphale hasn't quite reciprocated Crowley's act of love. Yes, he got him out of a bind with the delivery, but we can argue that Crowley had to rescue him right back with the bullet drama.

Enter 1967. We can assume that these two saw each other again in 1941 based on the fact that the "I was wrong, you were right" dance was in-play and we didn't see it. But we don't know what else might've transpired before 1967.

All we know is that Crowley's planning a "caper" to get the one thing he thinks he needs for insurance... the one thing Aziraphale outright denied him when he asked as a favour.

Crowley slides into his Bentley as the familiar swish of Aziraphale's miracle magic fills the air. The demon's tail lands in his seat just as the angel appears.

"What are you doing here?"

He's echoing Aziraphale's words from 1941. This isn't one of their planned clandestine meetings, and Aziraphale clearly doesn't want to risk the tiniest chance at an audience overhearing or witnessing this exchange.

Where the bookshop is the angel's sanctuary, this Bentley is Crowley's. And they're about to have a very secret exchange.

"I needed a word with you." "What?" "I work in SoHo. I hear things. I hear you're setting up a... caper to rob a church."

In a very Aziraphale coded move, Crowley looks away from the angel at the mention of an uncomfortable topic.

"Crowley, it's too dangerous. Holy Water won't just kill your body. It will destroy you completely." "You told me what you think 105 years ago." "And I haven't changed my mind, but I can't have you risking your life."

Here's the thing, as much as Crowley felt fiercely protective of Aziraphale in 1941, that's how much more Aziraphale feels now. That level of trust and love builds and builds.

Because what Aziraphale is saying to Crowley right now is—I can't lose you. Even though I hate this. Even though I don't want this for you, if it means I get to protect you, I'll do whatever it takes. Because I need you.

Which is why Aziraphale gives Crowley the Holy Water without understanding why he wants it. It's a gift without strings, without conditions, without preamble. Because Aziraphale knows if he's the one to do it... Crowley will at least be safe for now.

Just as Crowley agreed to do the shooting trick... for the exact same reason.

And while Crowley doesn't feel love in the air the way Aziraphale does, he does feel it from his angel. He understand the risks that Aziraphale took for him. And it means even more that his angel took these risks without understanding the reason... simply because this angel trusts this demon.

Crowley's lips part as he accepts the gift, and the two are very careful not to let their fingers touch, this time. Perhaps Aziraphale already feels quite exposed and doesn't want to risk the rush of another wave of love.

"Should I say thank you?" "Better not."

Aziraphale can't even look at Crowley. He's terrified he's just given the love of his life a suicide pill, but also so thankful to know he's safe, for now.

"Well, can I drop you anywhere?" "No, thank you. Oh, don't look so disappointed. Perhaps one day we could, I don't know... go for a picnic. Dine at the Ritz."

And this scene really shows me that Aziraphale is not oblivious to what's going on here and how he feels. But, he's placing very clear boundaries on where he hopes they can someday reach... sharing meals together in public.

Because I tend to agree with those who say that celestial beings love differently. We saw with Gabriel and Beelzebub that there was almost nothing physical to their affection. Their connection was enough for them. Without labels. Without definitions. Just... love.

But I think Aziraphale and Crowley are different, still, from the other celestial beings... partially because of their long time spent on Earth.

They like to eat and drink. They both like to listen to Earth music (though on different ends of the spectrum). Crowley canonically likes to go to the movies. Aziraphale soaks up books like sunshine, and loves learning new "human" things the human way.

These two can love in a purely celestial way. But, I argue they both have formed ideas of love that are a little different from their peers. They experience so much of existence in the human manner that it's impossible for their perspective of love to not be thus colored.

And right now, Crowley is feeling the impact of Aziraphale's love, much as the angel felt his in 1941.

"I'll give you a lift anywhere you wanna go."

Crowley is willing to let Aziraphale set the destination, here. And he'll go. Anywhere. Anywhere with him.

But Aziraphale's not quite ready for it. He knows he doesn't want to lose Crowley, but he doesn't yet know how to move past his angelic programming to fully embrace what they can be to one another.

"You go too fast for me, Crowley."

My. Heart. Stopped. The first time I heard this sentence come out of Aziraphale's mouth, I had to immediately rewind and rewatch. Because the hardest part for these two is always going to be the boundaries they put up in their own minds.

They've spent a long, long time on "opposite sides" while sharing an existence built on half-truths and trauma. They're both traumatized and both struggling through it. It's a miracle (heh) that in all this they've found one another at all.

And when it all comes crashing down in that truly devastating confession/kiss at the end of Season 2... Oh, they're both breaking apart because that trust that has been the foundation of everything for so long finally feels broken.

Crowley admits what they are. Out loud. No more, "Shut up" or "Forget about it". He opens himself up in a way he never imagined to the one being he could always trust.

And David Tennant takes us on the ride of our lives. Look, I'm a long-time fan of Tennant, starting with when he took over the role of The Doctor. But, golly, he destroyed us all with this confession.

Crowley removes his glasses before his beloved at the start of the conversation. And once he realizes how lost Aziraphale is to the system, he could have given up and left. Instead, he gathers his courage to speak his truth.

They're a team. A group of two. And he wants to spend... every second with him. Just being... them.

And they can't really run away from it all. It'll find them, eventually. But they also can't go rushing into the lion's den wide-eyed and unprepared.

But neither's truly hearing the other right now.

Aziraphale wants to bring Crowley with him to change things from the inside. Crowley sees there's no changing anything, and wants to spend whatever time he has left loving Aziraphale.

And. He. Falls.

Aziraphale isn't there to catch him. Because our poor sweet angel has drank the Heavenly kool-aid and earnestly believes he can make Heaven better for his beloved fallen angel.

They're both so bitterly lost.

Crowley covers his eyes and stalks away, muttering "good luck" to his thoroughly confused angel. They're both confused, really.

Because they both want to ultimately be together, but they're talking past one another. The mixed messages that once shielded them through suspicion and scrutiny have sealed their undoing. At least, for now.

In a last-ditch effort to get through to Aziraphale, Crowley takes a truly human approach with "one fabulous kiss". But it's not loving or tender. It's hurt. It's angry. It's as broken as they are.

Crowley takes one step, two steps, hands land on Aziraphale on step three before he gather's the angel's lapel in his hands and tugs him in. The choreography probably had to be perfect for poor David Tennant to make his mark through the glasses and contacts.

As their lips connect, Aziraphale's eyes widen in confusion. But it doesn't taken long for them to close, and as he relaxes into the kiss, his brow furrows as he presses himself into Crowley, wrapping his arms briefly around him.

When the perspective shifts and we're looking at the kiss from Crowley's back, Aziraphale's hand slides down Crowley's shoulder blades, where his angelic/demonic wings rest, hidden from human eyes. The angel's answering Crowley, now.

But fear kicks in, and the angel starts to flail. He's terrified. He's terrified of what he feels. Of what he wants. Of what this means. And he's heartbroken that Crowley would do this now when he's already refused Aziraphale's offer.

But the angel never. breaks. away.

He doesn't shove Crowley off. He waits until Crowley releases him to step back, and once he does he's overcome with emotions. There are too many feelings, too many thoughts, too many possibilities.

And Michael Sheen takes us through all the heartache, the pain, the longing, the hurt, the love, the devastation... Oh, he gives us every emotion and then some.

His, "I forgive you" cuts in jagged edges along our souls, like a papercut shreds skin, but on a cosmic level. And it shatters Crowley, similarly.

They part ways... broken.

Aziraphale is gutted to watch him go. More than any other time, this one feels final. In his confusion and pain, Aziraphale's trembling fingers find their way to his mouth, the taste of Crowley still fresh on his lips.

He presses his fingers against his mouth, trying to figure out where that sensation came from, but all he can recreate is a dim memory of the feelings crashing through him when Crowley's lips met his.

But the one thing that gives me hope is how Aziraphale keeps looking out that window. He can feel Crowley there. He can feel Crowley's love.

I've often wondered how they constantly find one another. Can Crowley feel where Aziraphale is and makes sure to be close in case of calamity, claiming that he's in town for a temptation? Does Aziraphale feel where Crowley may be and maneuvers himself as close as possible while feigning nearby blessings?

Because in the wake of their heartbreak, it's clear that he knows exactly where Crowley is.

He steps back to look out that window because he know that's where Crowley will be. He knows that Crowley hasn't peeled out of there in his Bentley. He knows he's waiting for him.

He feels Crowley's love. And when the Metatron confirms Crowley's words by mentioning the Second Coming, the way that Aziraphale looks back that last time feels charged.

I feel like Aziraphale wanted to run back right then exclaiming, "You were right. I was wrong!" But he can't. I mean, the Metatron is standing right there and expects him to come up and run this thing. If Aziraphale backs out now, who will be in position to stop this thing once and for all?

And maybe, maybe Aziraphale can protect the being he loves most by being in the room where it happens. Maybe that's the key, right?

But this is all projection. I'm more clueless than most of you because I've yet to read the book (yes, I will prioritize it after I finish these script notes!).

These are just my uninformed thoughts! But, I really do think that Aziraphale feels Crowley's love. And I think he's felt it for a very long time, at least since 1941. And I really can't wait until we get our Season 3 renewal notice.

Will I ever write full Metas on this ship? Gee, I don't know. We shall see, I suppose (which is only marginally less annoying than "wait and see").

Be good to one another. Spread love. Choose kindness. Give yourself grace. And don't forget to breathe.

[meowzfordayz]

in case you couldn't tell by the onslaught of chaotic notifications I just PLOWED through your milestone event and I am so proud of you!! it must have taken such a long time, and each one was unique and so carefully crafted 🥹💕 I especially love your idea to have a song inspire each one-- I can't imagine how hard you worked on this event! you deserve all the love you get for your beautiful work, i hope you know :,)

you must be on a plane right about now, and I can't wait to hear about your trip 🤭 I'm sending you airplane survival vibes (cranked to 110% for your long flight) 📮🌟🛩️💓

I hope you have the most wonderful time away with your loved ones and can bask in the love we're all sending you from here too <3

Hullooo !! ☀️ (pardon my late answer)

Ty so, so, SO much for reading all of MILESTONE 15.0 !! 😭🥰 Your compliments and support always have me like 😁😁😁; I'm grateful for our friendship, and for your feedback. 💞

I'm actually planning on redesigning MILESTONE 5.0 (multi chap event turned angst event oop 🤭), so hopefully you enjoy whatever comes of that as well !! 😇

Sending you savory green tea and apples dipped in honey vibes !! 🍵🍯🍏

P.S. My trip was a blast, and your + everyone's love was very much felt. 💓

[sunnyie-eve]

18 || A Way In

Series: Trust | Maze Runner (Thomas x OFC)

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: none

A/N: Might be a few mistakes

| MASTERLIST |

"Someone got over their fear of walls." I try to joke walking next to Gally.

"Funny, Elizabeth." He gives me a look.

"So what happened?" I ask wanting to more about how he's been.

"After the maze, I got picked up by a group headed to the city. They realized I was immune, patched me up, and they brought me here to Lawrence. This group's been at war with Wicked ever since they took control of the city. But Wicked can't hide behind those walls forever. Day's gonna come, and they're gonna pay for what they've done. Listen, uh, he doesn't get a lot of visitors. So, let me do the talking. All right? And try not to stare." Gally explains to us as he leads us.

As we walk down some stairs we hear a man muttering before he sees Gally. "Gally, glad to see you made it back. Jasper told me what happened." He speaks clearly now.

"It was a slaughter. There's nothing we could do against those guns." Gally tells him.

"No, but they can only poke the hornet's nest so long before they get stung. Now, who are these people? Why are they here?" The man asks.

"We need to get into Wicked. Gally said you can get us through the walls." Thomas speaks up now.

"Gally should know better than to make promises that he can't keep. Besides, that wall is only half your problem. Getting inside Wicked is impossible." The man tells him and us.

"There might be a way now. But it doesn't work without Thomas." Gally lets the guy know.

"Is that so? Do you know what I am... Thomas? I am a businessman. Which means that I don't take unnecessary risks. Why should I trust you?" The guy comes into the light and we see he was turning.

"Cause I can help you. You see, if you can get me through those walls... I can get you what you need." Thomas tells the man.

"What is it that you think I need?" He asks.

"Time. Every last drop." I speak up looking at the bag of serum.

"Is that what I need, Elizabeth?" He asks and him saying my name confuses how he knew my name.

"WICKED has something we both want." I walk up to him standing next to Thomas.

"I'll tell you what. Two can go for now. The rest stay down here with me. Just a little insurance to make sure you find your way back. We have a deal?" He puts his hand out and I look at it.

"Three then we have a deal." I say making him eye me.

"Deal." We both shake hands with him. "Gally, show them the way."

Gally takes us to a sewer tunnel hole and get the latter for us to get down. "You okay?" Brenda places her hand in my shoulder looking at Gally.

"50/50." I tell her the truth.

"Gally, take care of these three." Fry tells him as he goes down first saying yeah. I go down second, Thomas, then Newt.

"This is gross." Newt says as we walk through the tunnel.

"Yeah, this is great." Thomas adds while Gally turns on the power.

"Stay with me. We got a ways to go." He says as we start to walk.

"Hey Gally. How did you end up with a bloody crank as your roommate?" Newt speaks up.

"Actually I owe that Crank my life. When Lawrence and his crew found me, could have sold me back to Wicked, trade in my life for a few bottles of serum. Instead he offered me a place. Said I had something worth living for." Gally tells us.

"What's that?" Thomas asks before Gally tells us to wait here for a minute. "Where the hell is he going?" Thomas slightly follows him. "Think we should trust him? After everything he's done?" Thomas turns to us.

"What other options do we have? I know this may be hard for you to believe Thomas but there was a time when Gally was a true friend of ours. More to Ellie at one point remember." Newt tells him before Gally comes back.

"Hey. It's clearly. Let's move."

-

"All right. This way." Gally's says and they crawl through another hole. "Hold on." He tells them to wait before a train comes past them. "Okay, we gotta be quick about this. Not gonna have a lot of time. Stay on me okay?" Gally shouts and the other three look at each other. "Okay, let's go!" They all jump out.

"All right Tommy loves trains, don't you mate." Newt says as Gally runs.

"Great, you'll see another one real soon. Come on." He tells them running so Elizabeth automatically start running behind him with the two following.

"Gally what the hell are we doing?!" Thomas shouts.

"Less talking more running!" Gally yells at him.

As they keep running they see another train coming towards them. "Gally!" Elizabeth yell his name running faster.

"Come on!" Gally looks back at them. "We're almost there!" He yells.

"We gotta move. Come on!" Thomas tells Newt as Elizabeth passes Gally.

"Go, go, go." Gally pushes her while she climbs up the latter.

"NEWT!" Se yells seeing he feel. Thomas goes to run back to him but Gally shoves him back going to help Newt.

"Newt!" Thomas yells as the train gets closer.

"Thomas the wall!" Elizabeth shouts at him just in time. "GALLY! NEWT!" She screams as the train passes and couldn't see what happened to them.

Elizabeth pulls her knees into her ches squeezing her eyes shut crying thinking the worst happened to them. Once the train past Elizabeth kept crying until she hear groaning.

"That was a first." Gally says making Elizabeth climb down running over to them. "We never were really good runners where me Newt." Gally puts his hand out.

"I only got one good leg." Newt says as he gets pulled up.

"Yeah, I only got one good lung." Gally adds as Elizabeth wraps her arms around Newt.

As Thomas asks if Newts okay, Elizabeth wraps her arms around Gally making him hug her too. "We're okay. You can stop crying now." He rubs her back.

Thomas watches them causing Gally to look at him, "Lets go." Gally let's go of Elizabeth and they get a move on.

Once they get into the main part with people from the city they try to blind in with the crowd. "All you gotta do is sneeze around here to get kicked out. That's the price of paradise I guess." Gally tells the three as they pass people getting their temperature checked.

As we get out to the surface we see the whole city up close and no one around. "This is a long way from the Glade." Newt says looking at the buildings.

"Fifteen minutes to mandatory curfew. Please proceed home in an orderly fashion. Remember, this is for your safety. Thank you for your compliance." The announcer says on the PA.

"Yeah, we better get off these streets. And I know it's hard, but act like you've seen it before." Gally tells them as sirens blare when they get on the streets.

"They've definitely upped security. I'm guessing you shanks have something to do with that." Gally says as they lean up against a building to hide for patrolling cars.

"All right, let's get outta here." Gally jogs off and they follow. "All right, Newt, you're up." Gally helps Newt up the wall. "I got it." Thomas gets up by himself. "Bess." Gally says then helps her up and Thomas pulls her up too.

"There it is. If Wicked's got Minho, that's where they'll be keeping him. Lawrence has been trying to find a way in for years. Place is crawling with soldiers. They got surveillance everywhere. Scanners on every floor." Gally tells them as he gets a telescope out.

"Sounds like a bloody fortress." Newt adds.

"Can't blame them with what they are doing in there." Elizabeth crosses her arms.

"Yeah, I thought you said you had a way in." Thomas tells Gally.

"I might." Gally looks at him.

"You might? What the hell do you mean might?" Thomas gets worked up. "We're following your lead here. We're trusting you. We don't have to do that." Thomas says.

"Yeah. Let's get a few things straight first. Or there's no point in going farther. Look I know what I did, okay. I may not remember but I know. I see Chuck's face every time I close my eyes. Listen we don't have to be friends, and I'm not asking for anyone's forgiveness. I'm asking we put it behind us cause we all want the same thing. And after this we go our separate ways till then none of this works till we trust each other." Gally tells him before fixing the telescope.

"Take a look." Gally steps aside so Thomas can look. "I said I had a way in. I didn't say you were gonna like it." Gally says as Thomas looks back at him.

"Teresa, is the way in. The one that helped get Minho and me taken in the first place? Helped basically get my mother killed. And is the reason why Minho and me couldn't be near each other so when Thomas tried saving us... they only got me and he's here." Elizabeth laughs getting worked up making Newt try to calm her down.

"Ellie, you can't get to loud." He places his hand on her lower back rubbing it.

"Wanna know who's fault it really is?" She asks looking over at Thomas and he tilts his head confused.

"How is it my fault? Tell me." He walks us to her crossing his arms.

"You never payed attention to how she reacted to certain topics. When you're gonna lead a group you need to keep tabs on everyone. Did she tell you she remembered everything? Why y'all were with them?" Elizabeth asks him.

"Yes. She said we should've gone back to them." He looks away from me.

"If she wasn't with us when we got to the Right Arm... Minho would be here and my mom would still be alive. And we'd all be at the safe haven." Elizabeth leaves them heading back the way we came and they follow her.

[meadowmines]

OC-Tober/Tojoctober Day 13: Rival

[in which Yamaoka comes to harass Aoyagi at work]

"Hey, chief?" The dining room manager actually outranks Aoyagi in the family, but the boss has made it real clear that if you work in the cafe, as long as you're on the clock you answer to Aoyagi. "There's a customer asking for you."

Aoyagi takes off his glasses and pinches the bridge of his nose to ward off the impending headache. He just spent the last half hour in the back office trying to keep the boss from stealing his bro's dessert again. Before that, he had to ...handle a twelve-top of Junsei goons showing their whole asses right there in the dining room "Man, if it's not the boss it's the customers and vice-versa... awright, what's their problem?"

The dining room manager shrugs. "I don't think he's got a problem as such, but he's asking for you. Personally. By name." Uh oh. And just as Aoyagi starts to get an idea who that customer might be, the manager points at a corner booth occupied by a cocky-looking yakuza in a green suit, with a pretty gal tucked under each arm.

Sure. This might as well happen tonight.

Aoyagi grinds his teeth all the way to that corner booth and gives that cocky yakuza his best dead-eyed customer service smile. "Yamaoka-san," he says in his best eat-shit-and-die customer service voice.

Eiji Fucking Yamaoka. Nishikiyama Family lieutenant. World-class asshole. And the very picture, in Aoyagi's mind, of gender envy.

Yamaoka is tall and lanky, with big hands and big feet and legs forever and narrow hips and a flat chest. There's five-o'clock shadow on his chiseled jaw. He has sideburns. There's no question mark on the end when a stranger calls him sir. He's got no shortage of lady friends who either don't know what plumbing he was born with or don't care, and he makes a point of parading them around in front of Aoyagi on the regular.

"Aoyagi-kun!" he beams as Aoyagi grinds his teeth to fine powder behind that customer service smile. "Good to see you! Food's fantastic as always. I was just telling my girls here you've got the best cheesecake in town." He catches the eat shit component of that eat-shit-and-die customer service smile and laughs. "Aw, hell. Where are my manners? Here I am, hogging all the arm candy for myself when you've got nothing. You want blonde or brunette? Go ahead. Take your pick. Plenty more where they came from!"

Yamaoka's arm candy giggles agreeably. "Be nice," the brunette chides with a playful swat to Yamaoka's knee.

"Hey. C'mon. Have a seat, Aoyagi-kun. It won't kill you to take a little break, right?"

"Sorry, Yamaoka-san. I'm on the clock." Aoyagi cranks up the eat shit part of that smile. "And I just had dinner. With my boss."

Just for the barest fraction of a second, there's a crack in Yamaoka's cocky facade. It smooths back over almost before Aoyagi can register it, but just that teensy hairline fracture is enough to give Aoyagi a little bit of a warm fuzzy feeling. "That's a shame," Yamaoka says, all shits and grins again. "Yakuza like us are a rare breed. We gotta look out for each other. But you know Yamaoka-no-nii-san's got your back, little buddy. Even if you are one of the Mad Dog's little fleas."

"This isn't making me wanna hang out with you, Yamaoka-san." Aoyagi would sooner eat a bowl of broken glass than call this fucker nii-san and he knows it.

"I bet you wish you'd sworn up with us instead."

"Nope. Can't say I do."

"Hey." Yamaoka takes his hands off his girls long enough to shrug majestically. "I tried, right? Introduced you to the boss and everything. You could be making some real bank right now. But here you are. Running a cute little cafe for the family of last resort." His grin turns nasty, as it always does sooner or later. "You know that's what everyone says about Majima, right? Your outfit's nothing but every other family's rejects."

"Ever since I was a kid," Aoyagi starts, through his teeth, "all I ever wanted was to own my own restaurant. This is the closest to it I've ever come and for the first time in my life, I can see the finish line. I've got a family that has my back more than you ever will and the best brother anyone could ever ask for. I've got everything I ever wanted in my life thanks to him and if you think I care one damn bit what everyone says about that, then you don't know me." His eyes narrow. "But if you wanna play that game, we could talk about some of the shit everyone says about your boss--"

It's probably just as well that at that exact moment, a snakeskin-clad arm whips around Aoyagi's shoulders in something that could turn into a headlock real quick. Aoyagi isn't the one freaking out at this development, though. No, it's Yamaoka's face that's suddenly gone white as a sheet. Yeah. This one will talk a lot of shit behind someone's back, but put the subject right in front of him and...

"My ears were burnin," the boss says. "Oh? What do we have here?" The boss looks down and his face lights up in (possibly fake but who the fuck knows with him) delight. "Well, if it ain't Yamaoka-han! How's it goin', king shit? Koiboy treatin' ya all right?"

Yamaoka's eye twitches. "Fine. ...sir."

"Hey, A-kun." The boss gives Aoyagi a chummy squeeze. "Yamaoka-han's got a real good point."

"What," Aoyagi says.

"What," Yamaoka says.

"Yakuza like you two are a rare breed. Y'oughta get to know each other better, and I don't give a hot buttered shit whose colors he's flyin'--"

"Sir," Aoyagi grates out, "people are eating here."

"Hey, I'm serious! It's good for a man to hang out with someone who really gets him." Another chummy squeeze. "Ya feel me?"

The delivery on that last bit is... different. Like a little wink-wink that's only meant for Aoyagi's ears. "I... feel ya, sir," he says, carefully, not really sure he wants to know where this is going but too curious to leave it alone.

"Then that's that about that!" The boss lets go of Aoyagi and claps his hands together, rubbing them with glee. "Yer money's no good here tonight, Yamaoka-han!"

"H-hey!" Aoyagi splutters, knowing full well he's going to get the third degree from the boss himself later about why this expensive table got comped.

"And after yer done stuffin' yer faces," the boss goes on, oblivious, "I'll take all of ya out on the town. My treat. Whaddya say?"

In a rare, fleeting moment of the kind of solidarity only ever felt by two people who have no idea what the fuck is going on between Goro Majima's ears and aren't sure they want to know, Aoyagi and Yamaoka trade a wary glance across the table. "Question," Aoyagi says, the verbal equivalent of poking a half-buried landmine with a stick, "what's my brother doing while you're taking me and Yamaoka-san and the girls out on the town?"

"Ehhh..." The boss clears his throat. "...this n' that."

"You're gonna work him half to death, ya mean."

"Hey, don't worry about him! He'll be fine!" That arm whips back around Aoyagi's shoulders and the boss whispers directly into his ear: "You wanna take this cocky buttball down a peg or nah?"

Aoyagi swallows hard. "I... I would like that very much, sir," he whispers back, and the boss just beams.

[ask-aurachnid]

Payback Time

Part 1: Tricks and Illusions Part 2: Proceed With Caution Part 3: Enter, Punisher Part 4: Back to Earth

[TW: Violence, non-con drug use] Word Count: 1.5k

◇─◇──◇─────◇──◇─◇

Three days after Frankie learns the truth and gets a face full of psychedelics for their trouble, they get a lead on Mysterio. They probably could have gotten one sooner, but they were preoccupied with detoxing from the aforementioned psychedelics. Even three days after being dosed, they still feel jumpy and paranoid, their spider-sense reacting to the slightest things.

Nicky and Castle don't think Frankie's ready to put the suit back on and, to be honest, they're probably right. Even if the worst of the symptoms have passed, they still just experienced a massive trauma. It's probably not a good idea to confront Beck right now, but they'll deal with it like they always do: by compartmentalizing to hell and back. They can't afford to be down for the count any longer. She's had a three-day head start to terrorize New York and plan her next move, and Frankie refuses to give her a fourth.

So, they suit up, with the addition of the most effective compact rebreather-respirator combo that money can buy, ordered straight from Gotham (and painted to match the suit, of course).

They track Beck to a warehouse on the edge of Hell's Kitchen. There's been an uptick in noise complaints and domestic disturbance reports in the surrounding buildings. It's not much, to be honest, but it's enough to catch Frankie's attention. Given what Beck's "Fear Toxin" did to them, it follows that smaller doses might result in screaming or people cranking up their music to drown out the voices.

Frankie crawls in through the window and finds Beck surrounded by lab equipment and piles of capsule-shaped canisters. She stands before a huge murder board, in full costume, scrutinizing what looks like a plan to dose Harlem with Fear Toxin.

"Do you seriously just hang around in your wizard costume all the time? There's no way that's comfortable," Frankie quips, in lieu of a real greeting.

Mysterio startles, spinning around to face them. Then her shoulders go tense and she bolts in the opposite direction, knocking equipment to the floor as Aurachnid gives chase. She slows only once they're out on the street, drones forming rank behind her and projecting holographic mannequins on every side.

"I was watching, you know," Mysterio says, with the same tone as someone remarking on the weather. "I had my drones record everything."

Frankie's heart drops. Does she know?

"It's a shame they lost track of you. Tell me, how long did the hallucinations last? With a metabolism like yours, it could go either way."

Frankie's relief is immediately overshadowed by red-hot anger. "Watch it--"

"How lucky am I? The first to reduce the city's beloved spider to a cowering child. What did you see, Aurachnid? The people you love abandoning you? Telling you what a failure you are? The truth hurts, doesn't it?"

Frankie's fists clench, blood roaring in their ears. "You don't know a gods damned thing about me," they growl.

Mysterio's head tilts to one side, like Frankie's some curious thing under a microscope.

"You're angry," she observes. "How fascinating."

"Oh, I'm more than angry," Frankie spits, stalking forward, every line of their body coiled tight. The mannequins try to close rank, but Frankie is faster, ripping the bulky computer from Mysterio's arm and crushing it in their grip. The projections glitch out of existence and the drones fall to the ground.

Mysterio tries to escape again, but Frankie yanks her to the ground by her cape, fist clenched in her collar so they're mask to mask. "I'm fucking furious."

There's a hiss of gas as Beck releases another canister, a foolishly stupid attempt to make Frankie let her go. Their new mask sits securely over their nose and mouth as sickly green fog fills the space around them. Frankie barely twitches, batting Beck's hands away as she attempts to dislodge it.

"It's because of you that I'm afraid to touch my own girlfriend!" they snarl. "It's because of you that I have to call my family three times a day to check that they still love me!"

Frankie lets go of Beck's cape and pushes her backward with enough force that she overbalances. Her helmet hits the ground with a hollow chiming noise, and Frankie follows, wrapping one hand around the collar of her armor.

"So, yeah. I'm fucking pissed. Congratulations."

Mysterio just laughs, not even trying to fight or get away.

Frankie clenches their fingers tighter around the edge of her breastplate, the metal warping easily under their enhanced strength. They reel their other fist back with a snarl.

"Are you happy now!? Have you gotten enough fucking data, Beck!?" Frankie demands.

"You're a scientist just like me, Aurachnid. You know there's no such thing as "enough data,"" she says. Frankie can hear the smirk in her voice even though her face is obscured by fog.

Frankie's fist slams into the glass, cracks forming a jagged starburst. Reinforced, but not reinforced enough.

"I am nothing like you!" they snap. Pain sparks across their knuckles, skin splitting under the suit. More cracks form in the glass. "You're a monster, torturing people to satisfy your own sick curiosity!"

"And what do you call this, then?" There's an edge to her voice now, anxious.

Frankie yanks her halfway upright so they're practically nose to nose, big white lenses glaring into the fog-filled glass as they hiss their answer. "Karma."

Mysterio's helmet slams back into the asphalt as Frankie reels their fist back again. Finally, Beck seems to realize the trouble she's in, raising her hands up in a placating gesture.

"Wait! Wait!" she stutters.

Frankie ignores her, their own blood smearing across the splintering glass. The fog inside has begun to flicker revealing Beck's alarmed expression.

[ID in alt]

"Stay the fuck out of my head!" Frankie yells, raising their fist before bringing it down for the final time, the glass shattering under the blow.

When the globe shatters, so does Beck's protection from her own toxins. Frankie watches in real time as it makes its way through her bloodstream. The way Beck's pupils dilate near-completely and lose focus, catching on things that aren't there. The way her breathing picks up, pulling more of the toxin into her lungs.

For a moment, Frankie feels proud. Happy that Beck is literally getting a taste of her own medicine. Relishing the terrified cries of 'no, no, no!' that fall from the villain's lips.

Just as quickly, they feel horrified. The guilt tastes like bile on their tongue as they stare at Beck, writhing against invisible demons, terrified out of her mind and still breathing more toxin. Frankie wouldn't wish that fear on anyone, and yet--

You lost control, again.

Frankie lets go of Beck like they've been burned, stumbling back and shaking their head. The guilt won't help anyone, and they need to do something.

They take a deep breath through the tightness of their respirator before stepping back toward Beck's trembling form. She thrashes in terror as Frankie pulls her off the ground, forcing them to restrain her in webbing so they can lift her over their shoulder, and start swinging away from the thick cloud of Fear Gas.

"JUDOS, call 9-1-1."

"9-1-1. What is your emergency?"

"This is Aurachnid. I'm traveling north on Tenth Avenue past West Fifty-Second Street," Frankie says, barely keeping their voice calm. "I have an adult female who's been dosed with an experimental psychedelic. She's experiencing symptoms of psychosis."

"I have an ambulance waiting to meet you on the corner of tenth and fifty-fourth. Can you tell me what her symptoms are?"

Two blocks? Frankie can manage that, even if Beck's doing her best to jump to her death. "From personal experience? Visual, auditory, and tactile hallucinations. Paranoia, delusions. It's meant to trigger a fear response. I had to restrain her."

"Okay. Do you know the dosage?"

"No. It was a gas. There will probably be a lot of calls coming from the corner of fifty-first. Police can find live samples at the warehouse there."

Frankie spots the ambulance half a block away, and nearly sags in relief. The EMTs are waiting, ready with a gurney to meet them.

"I see the ambulance. Thank you, dispatch."

"Anytime, Aurachnid."

The EMTs barely stutter as they see who Frankie's carrying, pulling the broken globe off of her head and securing an oxygen mask over her face. Frankie's gut churns at Beck's expression twisted up in terror with tears dripping down her face. Frankie did this. They knew what that fear felt like and they did this anyway.

Another EMT takes the canister of solvent from Frankie's numb fingers, and then the gurney is being loaded into the back, the doors closing and the sirens blaring to life. The entire time, Frankie just stands there, watching the flashing lights as the ambulance zooms off toward the nearest hospital.

What have you done?

[kharmii]

Meta Liberation Army Fandom Drama

There's no safe word in the Kharmii dungeon today, so expect to get it raw and hard with a touch of the 'tism. Someone once told me -might have been @feldkommandant that Asian fans generally keep to themselves because they don't want to deal with Western world fandom drama. I just experienced the worst example of that in action. It's the reason I wrote this post about stuffy old ideologue fangusfungus throwing out a DAMN FUNDIES!!1!1!!! rant.

DISCLAIMER: This is going to be R-18 rated comedy. If anything in this post makes you feel uptight, turn off your device and touch grass.

-So I was a happy lurker watching a bunch of Paranormal Liberation Front fans participate in this Strawpage thing, which appears to be a site where artists crank out quick gift art in the form of loose sketches. It's not something I'd ever participate in because it takes me forever to finish anything. A couple of Asian artists were invited to participate, and they pretty much right away became victims of antishipper ire. They were so rattled that one artist might have set their page to private, and another deleted all their shippy art, even if it was as innocuous as hand-holding.

Side note: This is all speculation btw. I'm an observer trying to make sense of it.

-So Fungs did their rant, and I posted something on their page that they promptly deleted but then reposted as a cap:

0% of antishippers are 'right wing white supremacist Christian fascists' or whatever. I'm not intimidated by those titles because I am an iconoclast who can't be pigeonholed. Right wing people have found me just as offensive.

Also, there are two reasons why it was completely absurd of this person to assume I was to blame.

1.) I'm not a sniveling cowardly rat-faced leftist twat who tittle tattles over petty bs. All those people are supposedly over on Bluesky, LOL!

2.) It would be counterproductive of me to harass Asian artists into going incognito when the whole point of my blog is to obsess over stupid crap and then post related artwork constantly. Right now, I've got the MLA in an iron fist and don't plan on letting go for a very long time.

One of the artists who went private made a 48-page labor of love devoted solely to the underutilized character Trumpet. I'm confused about why antis would target them, but those people are fckn nuts, so who knows?

They were the artist who did this btw, the illustration book about Trumpet AKA 'Cunty Flowergarden'.

The other targeted artist might have offended the crazies doing ReDestro x Shigaraki, which is like a 50/20 ship (my best guess), but it's not as if minors were involved. I'm sad I didn't save more of their work on my computer. All I have is this:

After putting Trumpet through the wringer, I have an idea for a sequel (not really, this is my muse being a smartass). One of the advisors in Skeptic's Carmine Regiment has a brain reprogramming quirk. While they have Trumpet strapped down to a chair with his eyelids taped open, ReDestro tells them, "Make sure he never questions Meta Liberation Army ideology again. Also, make him think we are a couple, and that he blows me under my desk on demand."

Next thing you know, my guy is walking around with a perpetually vacant smile on his face saying stuff in a hypnotic tone like, "Hail ReDestro! Meta Liberation Army until I die!" The above artwork is the new and improved Trumpet.

Anyway, I thought me and Fungs were on the same page. He also did a trans Shig AU. I almost made Shigs trans in Trumpet's Trauma, but that would have crossed a line into being too gross. If I'm going to spend my valuable time writing a 10+K word gooner fic, it can't be too gross. It has to be something I'd want to read if someone else wrote it.

ReD is acting like the proper bootlicker, but he's hard pressed to keep that phony act up. He's sort of wishing he let Shig kill him the day he lost his legs, but he has one of those 'Do It For Him' pictures on his desk with adorable photos of Geten taped to it.

There's also hyper-sexual man-whore Trumpet:

-But then it's like....aaawwwwww......AAAWWWWWWWWW.......

I preferred the fanon head canon where Dabi can't eat because his internal organs are too damaged. -Or maybe that's what is going on here, but poor hapless Dabi keeps trying.

Moving on......back to the drama.

1.) Christofascism isn't a thing in fandom because 100% of antis are emotionally immature minors or twenty-somethings who most certainly will have 'pro Palestine' in their profiles with all their stupid pronouns listed.

2.) Damn right I'm straight! I might be a twisted degenerate perv who writes fan fic of guys getting shellacked by other guys, but that doesn't mean I should be lumped in with the sorts of people who spread Monkeypox in rest stop bathrooms or who walk weirdos in dog masks around on leashes.

Side note: Do Asian women feel the same way? -Like do women into fujoshi culture consider themselves 100% straight but just like to see cartoon boys being cute?

3.) I'm def not a 'terf' because that stands for 'trans excluding radical feminist'. I'm in no way aligned with radical feminism. That 'christofascism' shpeal is bigoted also. It's normal to want to preserve Christian values in countries built on foundations of Christian values. When Muslims go into a country and for real VIOLENTLY force their values on people, nobody is allowed to call them out on it.

4.) This person went private for a few hours because they were supposedly afraid I'd harass them and their friends. That means they must think I'm the kind of psychopath who'd stew on some drama for like a second, then be like, "Oh look, A SHINY!" *runs off* "WHEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!"

Come to think of it, I head canon ReDestro as being that sort of villain, like if he was pissed at you and didn't break your spine in half in the first five minutes, then he'd get distracted and wander off. He's a busy man, after all.

Anyway, that artist was better years ago when they drew more attractive characters with visually appealing fetishses, but lately they've descended into fat, transgender neckbeard pron. It's like the cartoon version of this:

There's no comparing to the pretty ones because they all look like that. Most look like that...but werewolf bullshit. Fungs was making Trumpet look like that. Let's detrans the Trumpet. Seriously, the guy is a solid mesomorph build who probably stands a hair over six feet tall.

Seriously, if you are going to make a MLA person trans, it would be funnier to do it to this guy:

Imagine our guy...erm 'lady' in a convenience store berating some poor clerk.

ReDestro: It's MA'AM!!! Don't stress Momma out or she might have to pop a bitch's skull like a pimple! *Takes out whole side of wall with 20% stress*

Skeptic would make a good transfemale. My best guess is that he's about 6'11" in canon. I could see him fighting to get ladies room rights. He would have had cameras trained on all the toilets for a while, but after some time, it wouldn't be good enough. He'd have a burning desire to be physically present. All it would take was one bad ruling from an activist judge, and he'd be in there skulking around like an oversized slenderman.

Trumpet zeroes in because he can't help himself. He like, "Suck my dick?" Skeptic refuses because he's a 'translesbian'.

Found this miscellaneous post when I was trolling for content:

I actually did a fan fic where that happened because I live to serve. To be fair though, Trumpet gets his ass beat in canon. You just know it. Look at his arrest photo:

Is that a boot print on his forehead? At least they had the common decency to let him comb his hair before they took the mugshot. You just know this man wasn't involved in any sort of combat during the Gunga Villa Raid. He was probably hiding in a broom closet during the worst of the action. The authorities had to drag him out kicking and screaming.

Let me clue you in on something....they don't have that 'defund the police' crap in Asian countries. People are okay with scumbag criminals getting what's coming to them. The cops who arrested Trumpet were like, "Wait...is that the politician? Are we getting to arrest the politician?" They would all look at one another for a moment, and then someone would say, "What do you think, boys? Does this asshole look like he's 'resisting arrest' to you?"

Trumpet would vehemently wave his hands shaking his head saying, "No! NO! NO I'M NOT! NOOO!!"

Next thing you know, all the cops would pull out their billy clubs and go to town on his ass like they're Endeavor trying to make the baby stick.