#I NEED THIS ON PRINT HOLY SHI--

[murdersquazh]

I NEEDED MORE FROM THE ENDING BUT AJSJWJHCBJZJXNNAMZ I LOVE THIS MANGA SO FRIGGIN MUCH IT'S INSANE

[mxtantrights]

oh, to be in it with you

This is splices of a long work I had drafted up years ago. That being said I tried my best to make it more of a wordy one-shot than an ongoing thing because I just don't think I could return to this original idea, but if you like this then come into my inbox and request something for our Harry Osborn.

Harry Osborn x fem!reader, spidey!reader

PRE SNAP

Sighing, you picked up your phone to answer the call. It was always something with that boy. As soon as you took the call he was speaking. You thinks it's the rich boy complex.

"-ay I know I said I wanted an espresso but I take it back." Harry spoke.

"Oh yeah? What do you want now?" you asks.

"Just a regular black coffee." he says.

"Really?" you asked. But you knew already.

"I'll venmo you for the trouble."

"Please do." you ended the call.

You just earned herself four bucks. You knew he would change his mind. That's how Harry operates. And also he can't handle sugar after ten in the morning.

You carried the two regular coffees in the paper tray and exited the cafe. The trip to MoMA had been canceled due to the weird donut in the sky that appeared not too long ago. No it wasn't normal but the superheroes were on it. They always were.

So while everyone else went home, or wherever, Harry and you stayed together and headed over to the Osborn building. You two were gonna fool around with the lab equipment, maybe make 3d printed donuts. What else was there to do?

The cafe, was located right across the street from the building. 

Harry was looking out the window when it began to happen. The scientists that were in the room with him started disappearing one by one. He didn't catch on until he saw it with his own eyes. What once was an employee was now dust.

You were waiting to cross the street when you heard her phone vibrating in your hand. It was under the coffee tray. You balanced it in one hand and looked at the screen.

Harry. You thinks that he just called, so surely he couldn't have changed his mind again. Maybe he just needs the coffee a bit more than he let on.

Weirdly you picked up the phone. "Harry I'm coming. Calm do-"

"Somethings wrong, everyone is disappearing."

"What ar-" you began to say as a man stepped up next to you, waiting to cross the street too. You looked over to see the man begin to crumble like crumb cake. The dark dust began to get swept up by the wind as you gasped.

"You have to get over here now." Harry pleaded with you on the other side of the line.

"i'm coming, meet me at the front door." you didn't hang up the call.

You dropped the coffees and looked up and down the street. The cars were stopping in the middle of it, people getting out. Dust was becoming everyone. Or everyone was becoming dust.

Carefully you ran across the street over to the building. Looking inside you could faintly see the familiar blonde boy approaching the front door. You began to run to it, to him, at that moment.

When you reached the door- he wasn't there. The faint trail of dust was all you could see. Your heart sank to your feet.

"Holy shi- Harry?!" you shouted to no one in particular.

Your hand grabbed the door handle but you couldn't feel it. You could see your hand begin to turn dark and begin to crumble. It didn't hurt as you fell to the concrete ground. 

It wasn't long before it was your arms then you legs.

Then you.

POST SNAP

The sound of your name is want brings you back.

"Can you hear me? Wake up!" a voice says.

Your ears started to ring as you opened your eyes. You'd recognize that voice anywhere. Harry was in front of you, looking panicked and anxious. You looked around and saw- not your world. This was someplace else.

A deserted waste land. Red dirt, yellow skies. Two suns.

"Harry where the hell are we?" 

"I- I don't know. But there are other people here. I don't think we died. But this is- this is crazy."

"You think this is it?" you asked him, and he knew exactly what you meant.

In a world full of superheroes things were bound to go wrong. Dreadfully wrong. The attack on New York proved to everyone that nothing was out of limits. And now here we are. People turning to dust, waking up in a new world.

Harry shook his head. "No this can't be it. Theres no way- Tony Stark would never let this happen."

"What if it was out of his control? What if it's out of all of our control?" 

After that Harry did he best to calm you. Which included getting you off the floor, compartmentalizing the current catastrophe, trying to joke about his awful dad. And it worked.

For a while. You needed to be alone with your thoughts for a while.

You were walking as your eyes became watery. Osborn was doing what he did best, assembling a group of smart minds to get to the bottom of the situation. Which included you, you was the first mind he thought of actually, but you needed to take a moment.

Your arms were wrapped around herself as you walked in the foreign place. It wasn't like they were in a parallel universe or something. There was just nothing here except the red ground beneath them. There were dried trees with no leaves like the place had only known death. And there were so many people. 

You stopped after a while because you didn't want to get lost from Harry. So you stood underneath a tree, with your back pressed against the root. You thought that your body was actually vibrating from the fear. You held yourself even tighter. 

There were no avengers here. No Tony Stark to save them. You think that something must've happened and it must've been bad. Yo wonders about your parents and whether or not they are here too or if they were back home?

"Ah!" you yelped.

Your hand reached the back of your neck where the sudden pain was. You couldn't feel anything but the back of your neck felt warm. You squinted her eyes and looked up at the tree branches above you but there was nothing.

So you looked down.

And there in the red dirt was a twitching spider. It didn't look real honestly. It was black but on it's back there was a neon blue and purple hour glass. Like it was a cartoon or something. You bent over to get a better look at it but then something happened.

It glitched out of sight. Like when water is poured over a computer and the screen malfunctions. Theres a quick flicker of static and colors. The spider didn't come back.

You reached for the back of your neck again and thought to yourself. You hoped that the spider wasn't poisonous. The whole thought of being infected by a spider just irked you so much that you decided to go back to where Harry was.

You walk over to where he's assembled a group.

He's talking to someone on the side when he sees you. He pats them on the shoulder and makes his way over to you.

"Hey, your head cleared enough?" he asked.

You nodded. "I just wonder where everyone else is." 

Harry holds out his arm and you on instinct places yourself underneath it. He holds you close and rubs your arm. You know that it's in attempt to sooth you and you lets out a breath at the thought that you're with him during the midst of all of it.

"They're gonna save the day, they always do." 

You reach up to feel your neck again.

FIVE YEARS LATER

It happened all at once. One minute you were dozing off in the middle of a conversation with Harry and then everything around you changed. You awakened with a headache. You couldn't forget the whole dust thing and as soon as you remembered you jolted up from your position. 

You are on the floor. The floor of the Oscorp building.

A bunch of people are.

Harry.

You look around for him as you get to her feet. You couldn't help to see that the building looked different. The elevator that you used before was no replaced by a new one. The insides of the labs looked different. 

"Harry! Harry!" you shouted.

It wasn't him that came up to greet you. Instead it was a woman- a woman with a familiar face- that grabbed onto your shoulders. Her expression sad, shocked, a range full of emotions. 

"Oh my god it's you." she said and instantly latched onto you.

You grew confused at who the stranger was that was hugging you. You kept your arms at her sides and still looked for Harry. Until a whiff of perfume snuck up to your nose. The scent of Daisy by Marc Jacobs flooded your nose in an all too familiar way.

You know who wore that perfume? 

Oscorp's resident lab engineer, Melanie Malone. Melanie who had been given the job straight out of college. The same Melanie who's hair was always slicked back into a puff. 

You remove yourself from the woman's embrace to find that the likeliness isn't a coincidence. No.

Here is Melanie Malone. Standing in front of her. With dark circles under her eyes. And her hair grown out significantly. She didn't look like that same college girl who worked here. No she looked like a woman now.

"Melanie how long has it-" you began to ask but Melanie beat you to the punch.

"Five years." she answers.

Your whole body stilled at that. It wasn't long ago for you. It felt like a few hours. It felt like you had taken a nap. A weird nap in a weird place. But just a nap. How can it feel like that for you but for everyone else it's been five years?

Harry's voice cut through your thoughts. He's calling your name.

Your eyes moved franticly throughout the crowd that was forming in the lobby. You could see something moving towards you. Something fast. It didn't take long before you saw the long blonde hair.

Harry stopped when he reached you and Melanie. He stopped because he recognized Melanie- but not like this. 

"They're saying it's been five years- that can't be true right? It didn't feel like that for me. It felt like a couple of hours or something. How can this be possible?" He couldn't stop himself from the fear induced rambling, or his hands from trembling. 

You reached out to take his hands. "It was out of our control."

-

It happens when everyone is at the diner. Well, almost everyone. It's MJ, and Ned on one side. Harry and you on the other. Miles is in the bathroom. The bell to the front entrance rings out and you can see brown curls walking in. You know it's Peter. 

But then the feeling happens. The tingle that shoots from your spine to your head. And you're staring right at him. He's staring right back at you. He stops in the middle of the doorway too. You look away and try to distract yourself.

You gulp down your dry throat, which Harry notices.

"You good honey?" he asks.

And yes you're used to him calling you pet names. It doesn't mean you doesn't blush when he does it. MJ, close to the window now, notices it all the time but she doesn't say anything. 

You nods.

Peter slides in with Ned and MJ. And just as he does Miles is walking back and sliding in with you and Harry. No they didn't understand boundaries sometimes, and it shows. 

"Finally Parker. Anyways, so what are the plans for this weekend?" Miles asks.

"You don't remember? We have our trip to Europe." Ned says, pointing to himself, Peter and MJ.

Harry and Miles sigh while you nod your head. You all go to different schools so it's really weird when one of you has to explain to your families how you met. You remembers having to tell your father the whole story and even he was confused. 

You can feel Peter staring at you every few seconds or so.

"Oh wait I think I have a trip with my father coming up, oscorp business." Harry says.

Miles looks at you. "So it's just us'"

"You follow me around all the time anyways, nothin' new." you say.

Miles lightly shoves you and you shove him back. Then you remember your other plans for the night.

"I can't stay too late guys, I have to meet up with someone else later." you say.

Every head at the table turned. It's not because they all think you doesn't have friends. They know that you are the most friendly and kind person in their lives. However your social interactions are almost always limited to them.

Harry, Miles and MJ specifically.

"Is that so surprising? So mind boggling?" you say to the faces of surprise. 

"Do you have a date or something?" MJ asks.

MJ thinks, fuck it. Now is a great time to get into the whole Harry and you situation. There probably would be a better time, but when has loved sat quietly in the corner and wait for the perfect moment? Never, she thinks. Besides she was actually thinking about her feelings for Peter, and possibly telling him on their school trip.

Your eyes widen a bit. "No! I'm just meeting a friend-we're hanging out? I think?"

Miles laughs. "How do you think? You don't know?"

"Hey hey, she's allowed to have friends besides us," Harry starts and you sends him a small smiles before he continues, "but let's be mindful that I can get you Starbucks everyday."

Everyone at the table laughs at that. 

-

The first time you saw Harry's hands tremble you thought it was from the cold. So you did what any friend would do and took your own gloves off and handed them over. Of course, Harry wouldn't accept. Something about how the plaid pattern didn't match the 'vibes' from his coat. You rolled her eyes and shrugged your shoulders.

Harry never forgot that night. It was from then on he did his best to hide his condition even better. Especially from you, the girl he had fallen in love with several times over.

He tried his best, but you picked up on it from time to time. 

There was the time at the coffee shop when he was holding his black Amex. When he had taken it back from the barista, you could see the card shaking in his hands. He let a small grunt escape from his lips before slipping it into his wallet. 

You clapped his back softly before moving over to the pick-up station. Harry, with ray-bans attached to his face at that point, let out a sigh relief. 

Another appearance was during a study session. The two of you had been going strong for two hours until Harry suddenly wanted to do anything else. Even though you both had exams coming up, he began moving around his own house. Like he had misplaced something that he needed desperately at that very moment. 

The silence on your end was in part because you were watching him. And very subtly, his hands, out of your peripheral. You had been connecting the dots over some time now. How after you offered your gloves that one night, his shaking hands seemed to be a common occurrence. Or that one of them gets coffee for the both of them now. Or that he never hands you anything anymore.

You just laid out your textbook and notes on his coffee table and leaned back on his couch. With your head laid back, you asked if he wanted to order some take-out. His hand was shaking so much he couldn't take notes, you understood.

There was one time that he cannot hide it though. At the school dance- trivial, yeah he knows. He's pointing out that some kids are in the middle of spiking the punch bowl. And his finger is stretched out.

You takes one look at the kids before your eyes linger on his finger. His hand. His shaking hand. And you didn't have the words to speak about it with him, not when he worked so hard to deny it. You know that he doesn't have the words either. So you took his hand and dragged him to the dance floor. Well, the gym floor.

Not in the middle. Just a ways off from where they were on the bleachers. He instantly places his hands on your hips. Your arms reach up and dangle off the end of his shoulders. Harry is looking off to the side with a bit of a smirk.

"Oh don't you say anything Osborn." you say.

He shrugs a bit and looks at you. The heels gave you bit of an advantage that night. Your face is close to his. Not enough that your noses touch. But enough that you could feel his breath warm your cheeks.

"I just think you're trynna woo me a bit. I mean I'm flattered, but it's unneeded. I already write about you in my diary." he said.

You laughed. 

"Just the one?" she asked.

He smiled. 

He pulled her closer to him. The two swayed to the music in the gym. And you swore that he thanked you. Under his breath. Below the bass of a Jason Maraz song. You didn't respond, only squeezed him a bit tighter.

-

(dirty) Harry 

hey so I just got done with this seminar thing

wanna hang?

You snicker and type out a yes and asks for his location. Harry doesn't send it, he wants to know yours. After all he's got the driver. With a roll of your eyes, you drop your location. And you let him know that you'll wait in the bookstore.

Miles had something to do so the two of you wrapped up early. 

You go inside and the bell rings. Harry lets you know his ETA while you browse the store. After starting down the comedy section that is displaying twilight, you make a turn. As soon as you does, Maya sees a woman at the end of the aisle.

Your phone buzzes.

would you hate me if I said something just came up?

You sigh. You're about to type a response when you hear someone clear their throat. You looks up from your phone and it's the same woman. Except now she's closer. 

"Hi, can I just get," she points to the shelf, "in there?" 

You move to the side quickly, "sure, sorry about that."

"Nice jacket by the way. You a fan?" she asks.

You look down. Your jacket has the spider emblem on it. It wasn't really your choice. More like MJ had snuck a pocca pen session on your jacket one time. your phone buzzes again but you turn the screen off.

"Yeah, well he's pretty cool."  you say.

The lady smiles, "Yeah, but you're pretty cool too, aren't you?" 

There are a million alarms ringing in your head. Maybe more. But the bookstore isn't loud. You could scream and someone will hear. You backtrack to the front of the store. Where was the cashier at the front register?

Your phone buzzes.

"Are you the only one in here with me?" you ask.

The woman nods. 

"I don't want to scare you. I just wanted to offer you my card." she says.

She digs into her leather jacker pocket. Out comes a white card. Her hand extends out to you, who is weighting your options. Harry's earlier text buzzes your phone again.

You decide to take the card from her. 

MARIA HILL

xxx-xxxx

When you look up she's gone. And you gets that feeling on the back of her neck. The one you hate feeling. It makes your gut turn and twist. 

You stuff the card into your pocket and unlocks your phone. 

(dirty) Harry

sorry. do you wanna hang out later?

hello??

You press on the phone icon. You pull your phone up to your ear and it starts ringing. He picks up in a few seconds.

"Hey I'm sorry, something really did come up. I didn't mean to bail on you."

"It's fine H, but I think I might have to raincheck you." you answer.

"Ouch."

"Aw, poor baby. You won't believe me but something just came up."

"Uh huh. Well whatever it is, isn't me. So it can't be as amazing." he jokes.

"You're right rich boy. Oh speaking of which when do you leave with your dad for that business trip thing?"

"A few days, after everyone goes on that Europe trip. Why?"

"I was wondering if we could fit in one of our old city trips?" you ask.

"You just want me to use my money to get you into the museum." he says.

"Ah, you know me so well." you laugh.

-

You tucks her phone into your pocket as Harry comes over with churro sticks. He hands one to you while he bits off a mouthful of his own. It makes you look at him in pure concern, because you know that he tends to talk with his mouth full. He calls it resisting the etiquette classes from his childhood.

"Please don't choke on that." you say.

He makes a face, which earns him a smack on the shoulder. Harry holds out his arm and you links it with your own. The two of you begin to walk down the block. It's fairly empty as it's 11am and everyone is either trying to get to work or already there. 

When he finishes off chewing, Harry nudges you a bit with his shoulder. It makes you look up at him, which you often do. It's hard to not look at Harry, he's a pretty boy of course. But as one of a few people who have been up real close to his face, he has freckles. Very faint, but seeable.

"What are you and Miles gonna do with all this free time?" he asks.

You chuckle, "Miles was talking about hanging out with my dad. They've got that bond thing so."

"And you?"

"I'll probably read a book. Or two. And meet up with my friend." you answer.

"Is this friend hotter than me? I meant to ask when you first brought them up, but I figured I should hide my jealousy in front of our other friends." he jokes.

"Yes she is." you answer.

"Damn. I have some competition don't I?" 

You nudge Harry this time as you both end up at the end of the block. At the corner, you two watch two adults with their fingers intertwined and swinging cross the street. You're the one who started looking at them, Harry was looking at you and then followed your line of sight. 

The Osborn knows that one of these days he'll tell you how he feels about you. It wouldn't be a surprise or anything. He flirts with you all the time, and you flirt right back. Harry is just scared that at some point he'll have to share his other secret with you. He knows you knows and you just don't talk about it. But he knows.

So he does the next best thing.

He untangles your arm from his, which makes you look at him. With your focus on him he smiles.

"Can you hold this?" he asks.

You sees his hand formed into a fist and thinks he's talking about his change from the food cart. It wouldn't be the first time he's done this. He liked to make it a habit of letting you 'hold his change' and then he's at home and you're left with a couple of dollars. It's add up so much that you keep a jar at home specifically for him (that he doesn't know about).

You sigh and open your right hand to receive what you think is change.

Harry instead opens his fist and it's empty. He grabs your hand with his and interlocks their fingers. You look at your joined hands, up at him and then back at your hands. You fight back a smile and look dead ahead.

"If you wanted to hold my hand you should've asked."

"Thanks for indulging me anyways."

-

The music from the party blared throughout the apartment. It had to be a high school crossover. Uptown, downtown, midtown. A few kids from upstate and a few from across the turnpike. All packed into two levels of a brownstone. 

Drinks were flowing and snacks were being passed around. At some point someone was handing out caprisuns and it felt like a kindergarten party. Especially when they started shotgunning them.

"Hell I even think someone from Staten Island is here." Harry shouts over the music.

You shake her head, "That doesn't really count." 

You look at each other and share a quick laugh.

The two of you are at a party that only Harry was invited to. It was the night before he left for his trip with his father and he wanted to take the edge off. You knew that he just wanted to pretend for one night that he was normal. So you indulged him. 

You thew on the most festive outfit you had in her closet and met Harry at his place. He had told you to stop doing that, that he could 'send' for you' but you had a thing about using his driver so that was a definite no. 

Harry stood next to you the whole time. He hadn't known anyone personally, but they all seemed to know him. It was normal but it wasn't comfortable as he had put it once to you. Being famous for being the son of someone famous as kinda weird. 

-

The arch that Harry was standing under should have been enough. All the earthquake tips say so. But this wasn't an earthquake. This was an evil man, with alien technology and a point to prove. No one was safe.

You call out, "Harry! Don't move!" 

"If I don't move I'm toast!" he replies.

"Harry-" you begin.

Harry moves. From under the arch he runs to the center of the apartment. The floor has been proven unsteady the moment the fire had started. You weren't sure if it was because the fire had spread to the floor below or not. 

He runs and your perception slows down. It's like someone hit slo-mo on life. And every little detail is for display. The creaking of the floor boards, wood splitting in half. The heat of the fire, the orange glow it has set upon the walls. Harry's eyelashes and his pulsing heartbeat.

It shouldn't happen. It shouldn't be possible. But nothing seems to be impossible anymore. 

Iron man carrying a nuke through a wormhole. Thor, the actual God of Thunder. Sakovia. The Snap. Captain America on the moon.

You reach out- out of fear- to Harry. And his hand is no where near yours, neither is he. You're in one of the corners of the perished living room. He's barely reached the center of it. There should be no way.

But suddenly there is.

You can feel it all at once. It's the goosebumps on your arm. And the tingly feeling. The one you remember from childhood. You used to play with the static on the TV all the time. It was the exact same feeling.

Then his hand is in yours. You can feel it- him. He's shaking. You pull him in, encasing his body in your arms. 

And you do it again. This time, outside of the building. To the safest place you can think of. The pier. 

You let out a breath. Not once did you close your eyes. You were too scared to miss something. Harry did close his eyes though. They opened when he felt the cold breeze and smelt the ocean water. 

"He calls out your name.

He pulls back from you a bit. You're still holding onto him, not letting go. Harry looks around in utter shock. The bench the two of you usually sit at. The street lamp that, by the grace of Loki, is still working after decades. 

"Did I do it- I didn't think I could do it," you start and pulls yourself away from him, "Are you okay? You're not hurt right?" 

You start to examine him. And he's somewhere in-between shocked silence and inappropriate laughing. You cup his face with both hands. He might've lost an eyelash and enhanced a couple of freckles from the flames, but he wasn't hurt. He wasn't hurt.

You exhale.

"You just teleported us out of a fire!" he said.

"I-I know. It's just- I told you not to move Harry! I told you it wasn't safe! Why didn't you listen to me?" you weren't really asking.

Harry takes in a deep breath, "You saved my life."

"I- I saved your life."

-

(dirty) harry 

When I get back from this trip we have to talk about this

it's crazy and insane but we need to talk about it

and thank you again for saving my life

You sent back a message agreeing with Harry and wishing him a safe trip. Then you shut the phone off. Sleeping was going to be rough tonight. How did you save his life exactly? You can't put into words, it's inexplainable. But you could remember the feeling. The static, the fear and hopelessness. 

And then you did something about it.

Is that what you were supposed to do now? Something bad happens and you do something about it? 

You plug your phone into it's charger and rolled onto your back. Staring at the ceiling. It had been weird coming back and your home had been lived in by other people. You had a new room. All of your stuff was given away. There are people in New York that probably have a sweater you cared for dearly. 

The one thing that remained the same was the ceiling. A week after being brought back you recreated the ceiling you used to have in your old room. Glow in the dark stars were your favorite thing growing up. And after the snap it made you feel like not too much had changed.

Your phone buzzes again on the nightstand. You look over at the illuminated screen. You can't tell who it is from this far. You reach out with your arm and grab it.

When your eyes see his contact name you sit up.

(dirty) harry 

I'm at your front door.

"what?" you whisper.

Then it hits you. It's Harry. He's not going to let this go. He's not going to just wait for answers. And he means what he says so he is definitively at your front door.

You get out of bed and throw on a sweater. You open your door quietly as you can and tip-toe to the front door, trying not to wake your parents.

You slowly open the door and peak your head through. There he is. He hasn't even changed out of the clothes he was wearing at the party.

You slip outside and keep the door open a crack.

"Harry? What's going on?" you ask.

He shakes his head, "I don't know it feels like-I just have to say something. I can't just go to bed or go on this trip and not say this to you."

Harry stops for a moment.

You nod your head for him to go on. He lets out a strangled breath. And then you reach out and take his hands into yours.

"Tonight was scary. I mean the scariest feeling I've ever felt because I thought it was over. And not for me, but for you. And if you-if something ever happened to you I wouldn't know how to move on, I wouldn't move on. There is no living without you." he starts.

He raises both of your hands to his mouth and places chaste kisses on the back of your hands. You watch in shock as he does so. How his thumbs brush your knuckles. How close you two are now.

"I have been in love with you for so long it's so annoying. And I needed you to know after you saved my life tonight. I should've said something sooner but I'm saying it now and that's all I've got." he ends.

You forget how to speak. You actually forget the words you've known your whole life and how to use them. He's holding onto you and telling you he is in love with you. He's standing here in front of your house, telling you he's in love with you.

And it's the most Harry Osborn thing you can think of. That his mind was probably running a thousand miles per hour and he couldn't sleep, couldn't leave any of his thoughts for tomorrow. He had to say this now.

"Harry Osborn," you start,

and when you let go of his hands you see him visibly sigh. You hate the look of hurt that flashes across his face. But you know as your hands come up to cup both side of his face that what he's feeling won't last.

"I've been in love with you for a long time too." you say.

He smiles. He actually cracks a smile and then he's chuckling. All of a sudden there is no space between the two of you. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you close. Your arms go around him as well.

And in the warmth of Harry Osborn's arms you're glad that spider bit you, so that you could save his life and he could come to your front door and tell you he's in love with you.

-

[txxfiles]

give me all the fics where the boys kiss

Hi! It looks like I'm week 3!

I honestly have no idea idea what im doing really but i guess you'll just have to listen to me ramble about something i enjoy. Seems to fit the theme we've accidentally settled on and well! if theres one thing im good at rambling about its bl fanfiction. i read ALOT of fanfiction. like 13million words worth of it in 2023 alone (an estimate but i did the ugly math for jan and feb last year and id already read 2.7 million words so i dont think its too high an estimate).

ive read fics from too many fandoms to count and also have way more hyperfixations then any one person has a right too but the one that has owned my ass consistently for the last 4 years is The Untamed otherwise know as Mo Dao Zu Shi (MDZS).

The lovely Eucalyptus from week 2 was watching the untamed during covid (and holy shit what a wild ride that was) and the next thing I know im neck deep drowning in fan art and tiktok edits of beautiful chinese men that have no business being as talented as they are (Im looking at u Wang Yibo) This. shit. fucked. up. my. life.

then i turned to my good friend AO3 (love of my life i could not exist without you) and 4 years later ive read my tags dry. if its complete, ive read it. im getting desperate and ive started reading works in progress, yikes. its so risky i honestly cannot tell you how much anxiety it gives me. ive been burnt too many times.

HOWEVER

this does mean if you need a fic recommendation then your girl has got you covered, so i figured i would share with you my TOP SIX fic recommendations. im sorry i tried to make it 5 but i just couldnt do it.

I will be chasing a starlight by feyburner & sundiscus 

Wei Wuxian/Lan Wangji - 71,479 words - Complete

Omg. Wangxian Startrek AU. The pining, the miscommunication. I felt every range of emotion on this roller-coaster. I literally printed this out so that I could keep it forever. I wish I could read it for the first time all over again. This Fic hit AO3 like a comet. It even has it’s own Tumblr thread! Also comes with stunning fanart.

Paint smears on sunny days by SnowshadowAO3 

Wei Wuxian/Lan Wangji - 53,808 words - Complete

Modern Day AU, Musician/Single dad Lan Wangji falls in love with his son’s Art Teacher Wei Wuxian. I swear it's one of the cutest stories ever written, makes me feel all the good things. A-yuan is adorable and wangxian are hot and charming. The Ultimate wangxian comfort fic. 

Rotten Work by ShanaStoryteller 

Jin Rulan & Wei Wuxian - 63,907 words - Complete

Jin Ling fishes his Da-Ju out of the gutter post canon (Literally dying alone in a dirty inn, Wei Wuxian it's been 5 minutes pls) and decides if no one else is gonna keep him then he damn well will. 

It is perfect.  

Junior Quartet goodness, Yunmeng bro reconciliation and Jin Ling being a boss bitch little shit that has no time for anyone's bullshit. I cried as much as Jin Ling did in this story – which is alot. (Also another story ive made myself a solid copy of that i can love forever)

Joy In The Mindst of These Things by Glitterbombshell 

Wei Wuxian/Lan Wangji - 52,901 words - 5 Works

TEACHER WEI WUXIAN! I love this trope with my whole soul. Lots of adorable baby Lans, I would kill for them. Beautifully written. Lan Qiren gets a much needed wakeup call. Last story is incomplete but can be read without the 5th installment. SO WORTH IT, ive read it like 10 times

The One-Body Problem by mitisket 

Lan Jingyi & Wei Wuxian - 28,689 words - Complete

Well shit. How many times have a reread this story? I honestly couldn't tell you. Jingyi gets possessed by Wei Wuxian’s very tired soul pre canon and it changes nothing and yet everything. Their friendship gives me life and Jingyi fixes a lot of problems for his new bestie/mentor/uncle with his big mouth. Mom I love him 

The Edge of Night by Hobbsy3 

Wei Wuxian/Lan Wangji - 277,225 words - Complete

The best Zombie Apocalypse au on the MDZS tag honestly. There are so many good zombie film references in this one, i see you Train to Busan. Baby junior quartet, a perfect Wei Wuxian modern day depiction and so much love, angst and stress. It's delicious and I've never recovered.  

All of these fics are actually part of a mother document i made last week of all my favourite fics organised by tag because apparently thats what i do with my free time. hit me up if you need a rec!

Now that ive gotten that off my chest i'll let you be lol. maybe I'll do a rec for a different fandom next time. I definitely have enough to choose from!

Lots of Love,

Iris

[reilliane]

hello everyone welcome to my (legit) professional book review for mercy- uk those ones that get printed at the backs of actual books lmao

im joking what the- ahem.. "sHUcK" is professional anyway this is just me being sad aggressive

okay so i know i alr screamed about it in dms and im typing this after you went poof but WHO HURT YOU HUH??? MOTHER DEAREST?!?!?!? mother angstiest lmao (its a word bc i say so)

im bout to grab you by your shoulders and swing you around with all my might

sleep with one eye open im going to smack you with a foot long baguette

I HAVENT BEEN TALKING HERE BCS THE ANGST GOT ME GRIPPIN MY HAIR, TEARING IT OUT N SHI AND I CANT SEND AN ASK WITHOUT IT BEING A 3K WORD ESSAY OF MY AGONY bUT IM BACK TO SCREAM AT YOU HERE SPECIFICALLY BCS HOLY HELL CHILL PLS IM CRYRINGG MY LUNSG OUT.

THE LAST LINE GOT ME 💫dead as hell💫

just like mc soon lolol that cage aint no playable healer character that you can conveniently drag around the world bcs of game mechanics lmao

(cage banner when? mc living copium)

i cant say that i didnt expect for ur angst to hurt this much bcs well- smite but even after almost 3 years im still not immune😔✊ its just that good bro

i dont read platonic much bcs i like a lil bit of hand holding before marriage more (how scandalous omg) but if its vigil and mercy mmm yes most definitely

100/10 would i read again? if i cared for my own sanity then no, but i dont geheheh.

should everyone who sees this read it? yes, suffer with the rest of us and fall down the rabbit hole

oneofusoneofusoneofus

now goodbye, for i shall go drown myself in the hurt/comfort tags muah

- mango?strawberry?cherry? which one was i again-..... fruit anown

ADAHDAHDKAJHZXZBXMZBCBSHDBS Why hello dear I did not expect a letter to arrive from you 😩 a pleasant surprise-

Now- wh0 HURT ME?? Life 😔✨

AHDJADHA- indeed, cage banner when? MC needs it the most, someone get the cage lol

AH- AH, now I can just envision Xiao hunting MC down with the cage in his hands omg gege no💀 BUT JOKES ASIDE I'M GLAD YOU LIKE IT, it means a lot if you're swinging by here 😳

But oho- hand holding before marriage? mMMMM YOU WILL LOVE ACCISMUS THEN.

it's a heizou fic, the one i babbled about, hehe- it has

WELL

it has some

spice

chu~ 🤭

IT'S SFW THOUGH. Just a bit of spice and everything nice 🥴😆😆

[descendantofthesparrow]

Encore - Part of your world - Harry Hook x reader - part 22 - planning

=

“beasty boy if yeh don’ tell meh where we are goin’ im goin’ ta rip that pretty grin off yer face!” Harry growled, trying to rip the blindfold on his eyes off but once again Ben slapped his hands away.

“pretty? Thank you~ and no this is a surprise! You can't see anything until we’re right where we need to be so hold on for just one more moment”

Harry was silent for a beat before he reached up to take off the blindfold again “ ‘ight that was a moment” he cackled a bit as Ben smacked his hand and he could feel the pout Ben was aiming at him.

“haha very funny now it's just around this corner!” Harry felt himself be tugged to the right and then abruptly stopped as Ben put his hands on his chest. “okay one moment”

“Ben” Harry warned, grinning slightly as Ben clicked his tongue at him and smacked his shoulder.

“okay….look!” Harry finally ripped off the blindfold, blinking fast from the sudden influx of sunlight that blinded him.

His jaw dropped as he looked at the large ship that rested in the docks before him. “I-Ben-wha’?”

Ben stepped in front of Harry and threw his arms wide open “this is my engagement gift to you and (y/n), I was planning on giving you this after your wedding but Evie gave me an idea that you two could use this to get married on!” Harry stared at the silvery-white sails that were held tightly by the pristine ropes.

“when-when did yeh start on this thing?!” Harry whispered yelled, climbing up the gangplank after Ben as the king went to give his friend a tour of his new ship. Ben gave a sheepish smile at that “, uh, I had it commissioned a bit after the barrier came down, it was originally going to be an apology gift to you and (y/n) for…well…taking her away from you” Harry's expression soured at the mention of when the vks kidnapped (y/n) to have FG send her back to her world “but then you proposed to (y/n) and I switched it up to an engagement gift! And luckily it was done just in time for you to possibly get married on” Ben clapped his hands together excitedly as Harry smirked at him “come on! I want to show you the captain's quarters!”

Harry followed Ben in stunned silence, spinning on his heels as he looked up at the magnificent sails.

-

“whew” you breathed, leaning back in Evie's sewing char and stretching your back “all that work just for the dress form huh?” Evie let out a small laugh, slipping your work in progress dress back into the form after she had you try it on to make sure her measurements were correct.

“Yeah, pretty much” she hummed, picking up a roll of chiffon and drawing some out until she reached the amount she needed “there's a lot that goes into dressmaking, even more, when it's for a wedding”

Uma hummed in agreement, scrolling through your tablet and seeing your designs for your dress and the bridesmaid's “rose gold?” Uma asked, facing the screen towards you. You glanced at it and nodded.

“yeah, rose gold looks good on just about anyone and it's pretty form-flattering color, my friend Jazzy’s a bit on the curvier side so I wanted her to feel comfortable yet fab as fuck so rose gold” Uma nodded, raising her brow at the one turquoise dress.

“what's this one?” Uma asked, raising her brow as you smacked your forehead.

“I knew I forgot about something!” you hissed, standing from Evie’s sewing chair and giving the girl a look. She immediately understood and left the room with an excuse of ‘forgetting something’ Uma raised her brows and looked back at you. “Uma, I meant to ask you this like, almost immediately after Harry proposed to me but” you reached out and took her hands “you have been by my side since the day Harry dragged me into the chip shop to join the crew, you accepted me as one of your own when you didn’t have to, and you didn’t turn me away when I told you the truth after lying to you about where I was from.” Uma eyes started to water as she realized where this was going. “you have been so supportive of both me and Harry and you are my best friend and pseudo sister, so on my wedding day, will you be my maid of honor?” Uma’s face scrunched up as tears of joy and shock ran down her face, she nodded and pulled you into a hug.

“yes, you fucking sap” Uma laughed, curling her fists into your shirt “ugg you’re making me cry”

You let out a small chuckled and squeezed her a bit, rubbing your thumb against her back “im sorry” she shook her head against your shoulder and pulled back, using her palms to dry her cheeks.

“it's fine, gah when did I get this emotional?” you giggled at that and shrugged.

“well there's no reason for you to bottle em up now, so” you gestured to her with a grin. Uma rolled her eyes and punched your shoulder “ow” you held your shoulder with a grin.

Evie stepped back into the room with a smile “well! You’ve got that done, your dress is being made, and you’ve got the guest list” Evie gestured to the purple folder on her sewing desk which had a white label printed on it with the words ‘guest list’. “now all you have left is the wedding party, the reception food planning, cake tasting with your aunt, decorations, flowers, and where you’re going to get married! Oh, and where you are going to have the reception too” Evie rambled, not watching you as you started to nervously tap your thumb against your ring.

Uma sighed and patted your shoulder “don’t worry girl, you got us and Harry to help with those decisions, it's not just your wedding to plan it's Harry’s too, and im sure he’d be more than willing to help out with everything he can” you giggled a bit and nodded.

“im sure, he still has to ask Harriet to be his best maid though” Uma and Evie gave you an odd look “he was going to go with Gil as his best man but he decided to go with Harriet instead so…best maid” Uma nodded while Evie took a second to shrug and turn back to your dress.

“So where are you thinking of having the ceremony,” Evie asked, distracted by creating the neckline for your dress.

“well, I was thinking the lost revenge?” you half asked half answered, looking to Uma for permission. She shrugged and nodded.

“yeah, if you two want to get married there go for it-“ she stopped mid-sentence as your phone started to ring. You quickly pulled it out and answered it when you saw the ID.

“hey harry, what's-…the docks? Why?...okay then? I'll see you soon” you snorted a bit; Harry had sounded very excited and had wanted you to come down to Ben's private docks for some reason. “uh, I have to go for a bit? Harry wants me to come down to the docks” Evie and Uma rose their brows but nodded.

“go on ahead, we can resume wedding stuff later, I’ll just be here working on the dress” Evie waved you off, Uma clamping your shoulder for a moment before leaning on Evie's sewing table as you walked out of the green room, got on your motorbike, and headed towards the docks.

-

You turned off your bike and took off your helmet, setting it on the seat and walking towards the docks, where you could see the form of Harry getting closer. “Harry?” he turned with a grin and held out his hand to you.

“(y/n)!” you grabbed onto his hand as you got close to him and smiled as he pulled you into his chest “I have somethin’ ta show yeh”

You gasped a bit as he covered your eyes with his hand and started to pull you towards the left end of the docks “uhhhh what's got you so excited?” you chuckled, tightly wrapping your hands around Harry's arm that held your hand and closed your eyes against his hand.

He took his hand off your eyes as he felt you close them and continued to pull you towards the surprise “you’ll see love, I promise, yer gonna love it”

You hummed in unknowing agreement and smiled as you felt Harry stop you and move in front of you, hands moving to your shoulders “yeh ready?”

“as I’ll ever be?” you laughed, gasping as Harry stepped beside you and told you to open your eyes “holy-shi- what?!” before you was a large dark brown ship with pure white sails, docked to Ben’s pirate docks. “what is this?!”

“it's our new ship love” Harry cooed, grabbing your hand and pulling you onto the ship, twirling you around for a moment before pulling your back against his chest “Ben had it made for us, and he” Harry paused for a moment “he had an idea about it”

He pulled away from you and started to walk towards the front of the ship at the bow “we-we can have an archway here, and-and fairy lights” he gestured above him with a wide grin, his eyes sparkling with excitement “strewn above us! And-and there” he pointed behind you. You turned to look at the back of the ship where the captain’s quarters were “you-you’ll come out and walk towards me…looking perfect, and then” you turned back to Harry with a smile on your face as Harry looked at you with the softest look you had seen on him. “then we’ll get married and we’ll start our new life together…here on the ship” you walked towards him, reaching out and grabbing his hands, pressing a kiss to his cheeks.

“you are such a dork and it's adorable “ Harry gave a sheepish grin “and that is an” you sighed dreamily, looking up at the sails “amazing idea… let's do it” you looked back at Harry, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him close “let's get married on this ship”

“yeah?” Harry whispered, bumping his forehead into yours and wrapping his arms around you.

“yeah” you giggled, pressing a soft kiss to his lips and laughing as Harry's lips pulled into a grin and he picked you up and spun you around.

He set you on your feet and hugged you tightly. “I love yeh (y/n)” he whispered, burying his face in your shoulder as you hugged him back just as tightly and whispered back.

“I love you too Harry”

-end of part 22-

 permtaglist

@queer-cosette @sephiralorange

@lunanight2012 @daughter-of-the-stars11

@musicarose @random-thoughts-003​

@remembered-license​ @jatp-rules-my-life​

@rintheemolion​ @thecaptainsgingersnap​ 

@verboetoperee​ @imtryingthisout​

[malereader-inserts]

Shoot Your Load (I-I Mean Shot!)

Fandom: Avengers Pairing: Peter Parker x Male!Reader Summary: When you think about your soulmate, you think of a handsome man of your age, perhaps polar opposite to you or like you. But, not fucking spiderman Word Count: 1,475 Request: @will-grammer​ “Can I ask for Peter Parker and stranger male reader? They both bare marks that indicate they are soulmates but they've never met. They haven't really thought of seeking each other out due to stressful life obligations like Peter being Spiderman but reader is drowning himself in his studies/job hoping to make enough money to go out and search for Peter one day - but they actually meet when reader witnesses a purse-snatching incident and tries to help, running into Peter who's in his spider suit?” A/n: okay, but why is my Grammarly not working for me anymore, I hate this godforsaken site with their new update.

It's not that you don’t want to meet the love of your life, the happiness within the horrible world, a companion, your soulmate - if you will. It’s just, you don’t have the time or money to look for them. Plus, you’re busy with your part time job and your work load for uni, it’s practically impossible for you to venture out as if it was some Disney movie. You have a life that you’ve been restricted to, and you’re only nineteen, you’ve got so much life ahead of you. 

But, you don’t mind if you were to randomly bump into this person you were destined to be with.

Peter, your other half, was in the same boat. He has too much responsibility to look for you. What was that quote that his uncle Ben told me? Never mind, despite the Avengers telling him to go look for you, he doesn’t feel like there was a need. He’s a hero, whether it was fighting big aliens or just being the friendly neighbourhood Spiderman, he already has stuff on his plate and it’s piling up. Of course, just like you, it’s a university student - whilst he loves to make the joke that he’s a web designer, chemistry is where it was at. With that in mind, he helps Mr Stark with his work too.

Peter would love to meet you, don’t get him wrong, he’s been caught wondering what this fateful person would be. He imagined how he’d meet you, he imagined how he was going to tell you that he’s Spiderman, and yet, he doesn’t think he needs to meet you. Fate is fate, if fate wants you to meet, she’ll let you. 

So, Peter goes on with his day, much like you do. 

And, the thing with soulmates, it’s the fact that you can’t just forget about it. Every time you look in the mirror, you see the burn print grip your upper arm, and you often wonder what type of interaction you’ll bump into. Peter, like most people’s soulmark, is his hand - it wasn’t unique, but he can’ t wait to place that hand on his soulmate, see how it perfectly lined up. 

“You should go find them, kid,” Tony patted Peter on the back, ruffling his hair, “How hard can it be?”

Everyone thinks looking for their soulmate is easy, it really isn’t.

All you wanted was three shots of espresso in you. 

It was far too early in morning for any human interactions. Whilst you didn’t have a shift that morning, you had a lot of work to do. You were only annoyed that morning because you got your days confused, alas you were up bright and early, and unneeded. Though, whilst you were out in the great New York City, it didn’t hurt to at least grab something for breakfast before heading back to your university flat and start on work, the three essays, presentation and two projects to get done by the end of the month. You wanted to get ahead before you started stressing out.

That’s all you wanted. Was that too hard to ask?

Because, apparently, it was. 

But, you’re not a selfish human being and the morning was barely touched by humans at the hour you were about. Just on your way to the local small coffee shop you had witnessed a crime. A poor elderly woman got her purse snatched, you only thought this happened in movies but apparently targeting sweet elderly women was an actual thing around in real life.

You could be like every twat in New York City, ignore it, or be an actual nice person. You decided the latter, knowing you have a guilty conscience that would probably keep you up awake later in the night, had you done nothing at all to help a fragile elderly woman.

“HEY!” You shouted, alerting the thief and the elderly woman - which probably shouldn’t have been your first thought of action, just as you were about to sprint after the man, you were interrupted.

“Don’t worry I got it!” You hear a voice above you, confused to what could be shouted above you.

Next thing you see was Spiderman swinging through buildings before landing right next to you, his hand grabbing you in the upper arm. You were confused to as why Spiderman was in this part of the city before realising your arm was burning. Your knitted eyebrows faded away as you looked down at his hand, realising that it was the same exact position to where your soul mark was. 

“Holy shi-”

Peter must have realised what was going on as he picks you up, and out of panic, throws you into the fucking alley way and webs you up to the wall. You[’re lucky that you didn't smack your head against the wall upon impact. 

“I’ll be back!” He calls out, hoping to find this thief quickly and be reunited with you.

Meanwhile, you were against a wall with only webbing to support you. It had baffled you that he was able to web you up so quickly. As of now, you were contemplating life and how you got into this weird situation. It took Peter fifteen minutes to finish what had happened. Landing back in the alley way where you were trapped. You looked at him with a raised eyebrow as you watched him freak out.

When you think about your soulmate, you think of a handsome man of your age, perhaps polar opposite to you or like you, exactly like you in personality. But, not fucking Spiderman.

“You’re Spiderman!” You exclaimed.

“You’re my soulmate!” He exclaims back.

You stare at him as he stares back at you, you blinked slowly as you watched his mask eyes slowly decrease in size before increasing bad to full size.

“You’re fucking Spiderman!” You shouted, heart racing, “My soul mate is Spiderman and he’s webbed me up!” 

“Well, you know what they say, shoot your load.”

“What?”

“I-I mean shoot your shot!”

There was silence between the two of you. Peter scratching the back of his neck, he was panicking because this wasn’t how he was supposed to meet you. He was supposed to meet you as Peter Parker, the awkward nerd who was very socially awkward and then he was going to struggle to admit that he was a superhero. Not the other way round. But, as you both stand in awkward silence, Peter got to actually look at you.

“Um, can you help me down?” You asked, tilting your head to the side, “Unless they melt over time, cause if so, I’m going to get hungry.”

“It’s pretty easy to get out of that,” Peter says as you struggled to wiggle, let alone tear a section of webbing, “Right, you don’t have super strength.”

Peter came up to you, ripping his webbing, his face flaring up with redness because my god, this was such an embarrassing situation to get yourself. He caught you effortlessly when you had escaped the webbing. He lets go of your hands, however the pair of you don’t miss the electric sensation that was produced when you make contact. 

You brush yourself clean from the webbing, “Shoot your load?”

“I panicked!” Peter confessed as you laughed.

Peter got to admire you, you were of his age, with a bright smile and a lovely laughter he wouldn’t mind getting to hear often. He thinks your voice was soothing to listen to. You looked at him, fixing your jacket and you smiled at him.

“So, who's under the mask?” You asked, eyes wide, it’s only fair if you know the identity of Spiderman, he is your soulmate after all.

“I’m Peter,” Peter takes his mask off and surprises you at his attractiveness, his hand outstretched towards you, “Peter Parker.”

You take his hand to shake, a corner of your lip uplifting, “Stark’s intern? I thought you sounded familiar, well, I’m (Y/n) (L/n).”

“Pleasure to meet you,” Peter says, trying to ignore the tingling sensation as you grip his hand in the handshake.

You let go of his hand, rubbing the back of your neck, “Uh, so I was going to grab breakfast, I was wondering if you have a change of clothes, you can join me.”

Peter looked down at his attire, his face reddening once again, nodding, “I have a change of clothes somewhere, give me like five minutes and I'll join you.”

“I'll be waiting at the end of the alley way,” You say, there was an inviting smile on your face, walking towards the end of the alley way, coming back to civilisation.

You laugh to yourself, your soulmate is Spiderman, and you know from then - you have wild life ahead of you with him. For once, you’re excited for what the future holds.

[shalebridge-cradle]

When You Smile and it Tears Your Face (It’s Time for the Inhuman Race)

Warnings: Blood. Implied Violence.

“Anna?”

Anna von Kleve, former minor noble of the Holy Roman Empire, pries open her eyes. It’s well into the night – the heavy curtains are drawn, as usual, the grandfather clock is ticking away, and the electric light flickers ominously above her.

She herself is sprawled on the sofa, with her date’s head in her lap. Ah, yes. A night on the town, a few drinks (well, more than a few on her part)… she hopes he’d had a good time.

“In the drawing room,” she calls, lazily.

“Have you seen my book?”

Anna has seen lots of her housemate’s beloved books. So very many volumes she’s collected over the years – in her day, the emperor himself would be hard-pressed to afford such a selection. Still, she’s proud it was a German who invented the printing press and started the whole thing off.

“Which one?”

“Pride and Prejudice, volume three. It’s got a red-brown cover.”

von Kleve frowns, looks around herself, lifts up her date to check under him.

She grimaces.

If the book didn’t have a red cover to begin with, it certainly did now. She never intends for the whole biting-people-and-drinking-their-blood business to be messy, but it always ends up that way. Strange how that happens.

She quickly drops the man’s unconscious body back on top of the book, just as her housemate materialises in the doorway.

Catherine Parr sighs. “Seriously? What have I told you about putting down plastic when you bring your food home?”

“I know, but we get kind of… into it, you know? You know me, I live in the moment – well, not live, but… you get what I’m saying.”

“That’s the problem, hence, the need for plastic.”

A pause.

Anna knows what she’s about to say, and preempts her. “No, not your type. Not terrible, but he couldn’t talk about anything that wasn’t his football team.”

“Oh. A pity.” Another pause. “Have you seen my book, though?”

“No books here. Did you leave it at Seymour’s?”

Parr hums. “Possibly. I’ll visit later. It’s your job to get rid of the poor soul, though.”

“Yes, yes, personal responsibility and all that.”

Before Anna leaves, she tucks the first edition under the sofa cushions, and hopes her housemate doesn’t look that hard for her precious book.

~~~

The shovel plunges deep into the black, wet soil, and out again. In, out, in, out, methodical and practiced. The hole needs to be deep enough, and wide enough. She’s underestimated the size before, and that simply causes problems. There are bits that need to stay underground.

Once she is satisfied, and with great care, Jane Seymour places the rose bush into its new home.

Gardening might be considered an odd hobby for someone like her to have. Even if she rarely gets to see the fruits of her labour (which is most certainly a metaphor for something), it keeps her busy and helps her feel productive. It’s terribly easy to fall into a rut if you don’t have something to do, and caring for plants gives her plenty of that.

Just so long as they survive everything.

There is a loud bang from inside the house. Jane turns briefly, listening for something further, before she goes back to patting down the soil.

Another bang, followed by a crash.

Jane squeezes her eyes shut, and growls under her breath. That had better not be anything important.

Really, she should go in and stop them from doing any more damage, but they’d probably just ignore her like they usually do. Maybe you shouldn’t have your thrice-bedamned battle in the house, where there are things that you both like and are easily breakable all over the place. Is that such an unreasonable concept?

A third bang.

“For heaven’s sake,” she grumbles, and makes to get up, turning to her gardening tools. Initially, she shies away from some of them out of instinct, but… then again… this may the only way they’ll listen…

-

The fearsome duel is still going on when Jane reaches the hall.

One combatant has a name she knows well, mostly because she insists on using the whole thing whenever she is introduced. Catalina Trastámara de Aragón, former Spanish infanta. The other has gone by many different but similar names – Anna de Boullan, Anna Bolina, Nan Bullen, but she generally responds to ‘Anne’, so that’s what they go with.

Catalina has her hand around Anne’s neck, hoisting her up in the air, whilst Anne has a hold on Catalina’s arm, hissing up a storm. Another bang – Catalina slamming Anne against the wall – sends a cloud of dust trickling down on top of them.

Jane enters, in her gardening smock, boots too big for her, a straw hat (you must always wear a hat while gardening, though Jane isn’t sure why), and with a wooden gardening stake in each hand.

“Down! Both of you!”

Anne turns her head slightly, and her eyes widen when she sees what Jane’s holding. “Shit.”

This gets Catalina’s attention, too, but she manages to keep the quiet part quiet. She releases her grip, and Anne sinks to the floor.

“What are you doing?” Catalina recovers her regal demeanour, or at least part of it. “Have you gone quite mad?”

“Have you? Look at what you’re doing! What on earth is noble and queenly about repeatedly smacking your housemate into a wall?!” Jane stops to compose herself. “What is it this time? Territorial dispute? Long-standing grudge you refuse to talk about? Monopoly?”

“Anne? How many glasses would you say are in the sink?”

...No.

Anne rubs her neck. “Well, maybe less if you weren’t such a toff and drank like the rest of us.”

That can’t be right. Was that it?

“Unlike you, I like to keep some of my dignity about me.”

“Oh, don’t you fucking talk to me about dignity -”

Jane is between them in a blink. “Anne, do the bloody dishes.” Anne groans, probably at the unintended pun, but is interrupted. “We have the chore wheel for a reason. We have standards.”

“You’re no fun.”

“I know. Dishes now, fight later.”

Anne huffs, and stomps into the kitchen. Jane’s attention turns to Catalina, who is trying very hard to suppress the smug smile on her face.

“How many languages to you know, Catalina?” She already knows the answer to this question, but Catalina will happily tell her anyway.

“Five. Spanish, Latin, French, Greek, English.”

“Five languages, and you still don’t know how to use your words?”

Catalina simply stares at her.

“You would have been very upset if you knocked any of your paintings down, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes, but we couldn’t take it outside. You would have been upset if we crushed your plants.”

“Well, that simply reinforces my point. Violence is very rarely the answer when it comes to who you live with.”

“You’re threatening me with a lethal weapon right now.”

Oh, right, she forgot about them. Jane looks down at the stakes, flinches again, and throws them unceremoniously to one side. “Fine. We all need to work on discussing things, and remember we all have our part to play. Anne’s doing the dishes now -” There’s a clatter from the kitchen – “I’ve been taking out the rubbish; can you tell me your royal responsibility, or do I have to check?”

Catalina’s eyes are everywhere but on Jane. She brushes a bit of powder off of her sleeve, and mumbles “Dusting.”

~~~

“Look what I found.”

Parr looks up. It is a whole entire person Anna has come to show off, which usually isn’t something Catherine needs to see – it does not pay to get attached. This girl has her long hair tied up, dyed an almost neon pink at the ends, and is clad in one of Anna’s oversized fur coats. She seems to be faltering under Parr’s gaze, trying to make herself look as small and insignificant as possible.

“I see no plastic in the drawing room,” Catherine says to von Kleve, as a warning.

“What? No! No, no, no. Not that. Big smile, Katie.”

The girl’s lips curl into a rictus grin, revealing a set of fangs not unlike Parr’s own.

“Oh!” Immediately, Catherine’s attitude shifts, and speaks with a soft, comforting voice (she hopes), “Okay, hello. I’m Catherine Parr, of the Westmorland Parrs, and this is Anna von Jülich-Kleve-Berg of the Holy Roman Empire. Neither of us are going to hurt you. Please, take a seat.”

She gestures to a nearby chair. The girl walks over to it, unsteady on her feet, and sits down.

“It’s been a bad week,” she mumbles.

“Tell us about it.”

“Well, it started with a night I couldn’t remember, which always freaks me out, and then I was really sick, and then I’m pretty sure I died – no, I did die… I died…” She goes quiet once more, aghast at the revelation.

“Found her ripping some dude’s throat out behind a nightclub,” Anna explains, then shrugs. “It happens.”

The girl shuts her eyes tightly, as if she is trying to block out the memory. Parr takes her hand, and gives it a gentle squeeze. “Katie, is it?”

“Or Kate. Or Kat, or Katherine – but, that’s you as well. I’m rambling.”

“That’s alright. The transition can be stressful. May I call you Kat?”

Kat nods.

“Good. Now, from what you’ve told us, it sounds like nobody explained to you how this works. What is it that you think is going on?”

“’M a vampire. Right?” Parr hums an affirmation, and Kat laughs, without humour. “And, because I’m a vampire, and I was going insane with how thirsty I was and because he wouldn’t stop talking and he kept touching me after I told him not to…” She looks to Anna. “That man. He was my boyfriend. I killed my boyfriend.”

It’s usually cold in the house, but it seems to get even colder after that statement.

While Catherine intimately knows the feeling of wanting to murder your former significant others (Thomas – Foul rake! Blackguard! She shall curse his name after death and beyond!), she is aware that this may not be the case for Kat. Most couples these days actually quite like each other – one need not rely on a husband to vote for them anymore, after all. She’s been looking out for someone like that, but she hasn’t found them yet. Maybe someday.

There have been so very many days…

Thankfully, Anna is there with a kind word, so she need not answer nor dwell on her failure to find love. It is just one word, however, and it is not spoken with great compassion.

“Condolences?”

Kat waves a hand, shakes her head. “The only good thing about dating Francis is – was – that he gave me a place to stay. Everything else… I don’t think anyone will be that upset he’s dead, put it that way.” Her voice drops to a whisper. “It was so easy. Too easy.”

Well, it’s good to know that nothing of value was lost, at least.

“Subtlety and control are the results of practice,” Catherine tells the girl, “and that will come, in time. Until then, since the one who turned you is not around to help, I humbly request that you allow us to assist you.”

“We have a spare room. Um. Not that you have to take it, or anything, but the option’s there -”

Kat cuts Anna off. Nobody’s had the gall to do that for centuries.

“Why are you doing this? Any of this?! You want something from me, don’t you? Otherwise, I’d still be out there, dealing with my boyfriend’s corpse! Be honest with me, please. What is it you want me to do?!”

She is looking into both of their eyes, searching for an ulterior motive like she knows it’s there – Parr gets that, unfortunately, and she’s disgusted that something has happened to the poor girl to prompt such suspicion and mistrust.

Catherine does not raise her voice, speaks calmly and carefully, just like she was taught. “We are not doing this in the hopes of a favour, or any material gain. We – or, at least, I – am behaving in this way because I want to see you turn out well. Perhaps there is a vain hope of a new friendship out of this, but that is the loftiest of my wishes, and you should not feel obligated to fulfil it if you don’t want to.”

“You’re the most interesting thing that’s happened in at least a decade,” says Anna.

“But you’re vampires. Why are you helping a competitor?”

“Why not? Just because we’re bloodsucking monsters doesn’t mean we can’t be nice about it. Plenty of fish in the sea.”

“Okay. Okay. In that case… might I ���humbly request’… a hug, please?”

~~~

“How do you feel about it?”

Catalina does not turn away from her painting; yet another Spanish vista. She has been told that the Inquisition is over, that she can return for a holiday, but there is no doubt in her mind that what is there now must be wildly different from what she remembers. The latter is what she puts to canvas, to show off what she knows, what mortal eyes can no longer see.

“You shall have to be more specific,” she says to Anne, her voice clipped.

“You know.” She refuses to give Anne the satisfaction of looking at her, but she can feel the fluttering eyelashes, the lazy grin, just from her cadence. “Us. What we have.”

“What on earth are you implying?”

“That thing we do. The one where I press all your buttons, and you beat the shit out of me. Great way to work out that tension, yeah? But then there’s Jane – Plain Insane Jane – putting stakes in our faces and telling us to end it.”

“Would you have listened to her if she hadn’t?”

“Nah.” No hesitation whatsoever. No hint of shame. “But it’s fun. Don’t you think so?”

…Frankly, Catalina does not know. She knows it is not a healthy way of relieving stress. She knows Jane is justified in her motivations to stop it, if not her methods (though both of them make it difficult for her to use a softer touch).

But, if she is truly honest with herself, she likes to feel powerful sometimes. Yes, she is powerful when compared to a regular human – but that was true when she was alive, too. Now, she is no longer in the line of succession, she is no longer a princess. She is ‘just’ a vampire, and that fact irks her more than it should.

But she doesn’t tell Anne any of that. She puts her brush down, and turns to the source of her self-reflection. She’s hanging in the air, as if she were watching Catalina from an invisible sofa.

“You’ve been out drinking, haven’t you?”

Their kind can, in fact, get drunk. It’s more of a roundabout process than it is for mortals – one must find someone that’s absolutely cup-shotten, take them somewhere quiet, and… share their blood alcohol content. Catalina knows this because Anne is a master of the process.

“Of course I have!” Anne replies, with a funny sort of smile. “That’s why you go out, why Jane goes out. To have a drink!”

Oh, she definitely has been. She’s wearing the silly spectacles again, the ones where you can’t see her eyes properly.

“I’m not having this conversation with you while you’re out of your wits,” Catalina carefully enunciates.

“I always have my wits. Do you even listen to my jokes, princess?”

“You’re drunk.”

“And? You don’t talk when I’m sober, you won’t talk when I’m toxed – what is it that you need me to be for you to be honest?”

There is a knock at the door, and Jane’s voice comes through loud and clear. “Catalina? We have a guest.”

That’s interesting. They don’t often have guests – well, not ones that aren’t ‘invited for dinner’, and Jane likes to keep that private, if it’s her. It can’t be Parr or von Kleve; Jane would have said as much.

Perhaps it is someone important, she thinks, and immediately her mood sours.

“Who do you think it is?” Anne asks.

“I don’t know. All I ask is that you don’t make a complete fool of yourself.”

“And what if I do?”

“Then I take no responsibility for your actions.”

-

“She’s very new, apparently,” Jane tells them, and she is doing only a slightly better job than Anne at holding in her excitement. “She doesn’t remember who turned her. Cathy thinks it’s Thomas, but you know how she is.”

Yes, Catalina does. Thomas may be responsible for a lot of things, but if he showed his face in this part of town, he’d probably find himself dismembered by his very angry ex-wife.

They reach the top of the staircase. Below them, on the ground level, Cathy is speaking quietly to – good Lord! That woman’s hair is pink! How is it that vibrant a shade?!

Anne gasps in delight. “A baby! You’ve found a little baby, Cathy!”

“I’m not a baby. I’m nineteen.”

“Exactly. Two-digit age. Baby.”

“I apologise for her conduct,” Catalina sighs. “Someone had a bit too much to drink, and she had too much of them. I am Catalina Trastámara de Aragón.”

“And I’m Anne. Sometimes.”

The girl blinks. Probably thrown off by that introduction. “Oh-kay. Uh, well, I’m Kat Howard. Katherine, actually, but you see how that will cause problems. I’m moving in with Cathy and Anna, and Anna thought it might be good to introduce myself.”

There is an image of vampires being solitary creatures, living in ruined castles and moping about in their every waking hour. It’s not untrue, but Catalina hated it when she had a go. Eternity? With no-one around her? What torture!

No. Ever since she found Jane sobbing in front of her own grave, since Anne had her chance encounter with a Spanish princess, she’s resolved never to be alone again. She shall, of course, extend that invitation to this new girl.

It’s practically her duty.

“I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, Kat.”

~~~

Vampires own nightclubs.

That makes sense, right? They only operate at night, they attract a crowd, many people there aren’t expecting to remember what happened there, only that they had a good time and feel terrible in the morning, if they make it that far.

Well, Anna doesn’t own a nightclub. She owns a chain of 24-hour off-licences. But, she can hypnotise the bouncer into letting them in, so that’s alright.

The music thrums in place of Kat’s heart as she watches the mass of bodies swaying and jumping with absolutely no sense of rhythm. Coloured lights flash, the DJ plies his trade, glasses clink and sweat permeates the air.

Anna is watching only her.

“See anyone?”

Kat scans the crowds, a grim expression on her face. “No-one looks particularly appetising.”

“Well, of course they don’t. We’re not looking for the cream of the crop here, we’re looking for someone who deserves it.”

Kat leans her head on her hand. Anna told her she could come to her for anything – so, Kat had, when she started to feel hungry again, and so Anna planned this little night out.

“There are two choices,” she’d said. “Either you pick someone out yourself, or you go mad with hunger and some other poor sod ends up like your boyfriend.”

“You’re sure of that?” Kat questioned.

“Oh, yeah. I speak from experience – I’ve always regretted what happened to the Duke of Lorraine…”

Anna had refused to say anything more about that.

Kat has… mixed feelings about what happened with Dereham. Okay, she’s horrified that she murdered him, but she doesn’t feel bad that she wiped that arrogant look from his eyes for a few seconds (before he, you know, died). He didn’t care that she was sick, didn’t answer her texts when she told him her reflection had vanished, or that she was bleeding from her eyes – and as soon as he got back from his work trip, he dragged her to a nightclub to ‘show her off’ and pretended nothing was wrong…!

…Okay, she’s getting a bit heated. The man’s funeral was three days ago. No point in holding a grudge, now.

“What about that one?”

Kat follows Anna’s gaze. A man is swaggering over to the bar with a confidence that nothing about him implies he’s earned. She gets the feeling this man used to be handsome, or liked, and no-one has told him otherwise just yet.

“Dunno. Maybe.”

“Do you want me to stay?”

Kat automatically bites her lip, before remembering that’s probably a bad idea now. She doesn’t want to be alone, exactly, but at the same time…

“Is it alright if you hang out slightly further away?” She asks. “If I need your help, I’ll laugh really loudly.”

Anna smiles in acknowledgement, nods, and wanders off. Kat might be wrong, but she seems almost gleeful.

Thankfully (or not), the once-handsome man notices her staring, and saunters over. Kat’s skin crawls.

“Hey.”

Kat gives a small, brief smile in return.

“You here alone?”

She risks a quick glance over to Anna – she still has an eye on her. Kat isn’t alone. “Yeah. Just… needed to get out, you know?”

“I do.” He smirks, points to himself. “Henry. You know Tudor Real Estate?” She does, and the man grins at the recognition she must be showing. “I’m the co-owner.”

Kat doesn’t want to say the wrong thing, but this guy has only a passing resemblance to the man on the ‘for sale’ signs.

“Must be an important job,” she tries.

“Very. My brother relies on me for a lot.” Oh, okay, he’s the brother. Wait, the brother she’d read articles about? The one who got acquitted last year? “Sometimes I just need to blow off some steam, you know? Have some fun. Speaking of, can I buy you a drink or two?”

Wow. That look in his eyes. He clearly hasn’t changed as much as the judge thought he had.

“I don’t drink… alcohol.”

He scoffs. “Listen. You heard how important I am, right? Nothing will happen to you without my say-so. We can have fun if you just let me help you.”

This man is made of red flags, isn’t he? A blind woman could see the warning signs. He’s a creep with overly-inflated self-esteem, seems to have spent his whole life getting everything he’s ever wanted…

And that means he’s perfect.

“I guess you’re right,” she says, quietly. She doesn’t have to fear his kind any more. “I am here for a good time. If you’re offering…”

Henry grins. “Anything you want, babe! Name it, and it’s yours!”

“Anything?” Money and connections won’t protect you from me.

“Anything at all, princess.”

“Hmm…” Kat makes a show of looking him up and down. Yes, this is the one. “Maybe we can take this somewhere private?”

Henry is clearly thrilled at the prospect. He grabs her hand, roughly (though Kat is sure she could break his arm if the need arose), and leans in close.

“I know just the place.”

He leads her away, to a location where there are no witnesses, no-one to save him. From across the club, Anna gives her a thumbs up.

Kat returns the gesture.

-

She comes in the front door with her phone in her hand. Henry has a Wikipedia page. Not very long, pretty much goes on about his brief stint in custody and that he’s Arthur Tudor’s brother.

Or, was. They might have to change the tense, soon.

Cath is on the sofa, chatting quietly with… Kat wants to say… Jane…? Yeah, Jane sounds right. She’s friendly enough, but always seems like she’s on her second-last nerve.

“How did it go?” Cath asks.

Anna grins. She’s been like this all night, and Kat feels conflicted about all the praise she’s received.“Oh, fantastic! Kat was a natural; that idiot fell for it hook, line, and sinker.”

“Turns out I have a vendetta against people who can’t take ‘no’ for an answer,” Kat adds.

Parr’s smile grows sharp, but her eyes still sparkle. “Well, there won’t be any shortage of those. Come, sit with us.”

So, Kat does. The things they speak of are so normal, Kat is initially confused. Jane’s gardening is a topic of discussion, as is Cath’s ever-expanding collection of stuff she finds interesting. When Jane asks about Kat’s “little slate-thing”, they both listen with rapt attention at her explanation of modern technology.

Kat had forgotten what it’s like to have people listen. It’s a shame she had to die to experience it.

~~~

“Yes, I’ve received a notice recently about outstanding bills owed – no, no, don’t shut off the – listen to me. The account has been paid in full. Enter that into the system. Okay, great. Thanks for that – no, no, everyone makes mistakes. Alright, bye.”

Anne hangs up. Great, power bills are sorted.

Contrary to popular opinion, she actually does do her share of work around the house. Yeah, the dishes are her least favourite task. Vampires shouldn’t have to do the dishes. But, that doesn’t stop her from helping in other ways.

She’s just about to start dialling the telephone company, when there is a knock at the door. Few are brave enough to do that at this place. As she stalks over, she wonders if it might a debt collector – if it is, that means she can have a snack, too.

The heavy oaken door swings open with an agonising creak, and the eyes of the figure on the other side glow in the evening gloom.

Oh, it’s that pink-haired girl. Katie, maybe? Anne can’t actually remember her name, and at this point she’s too afraid to ask.

“Hi.” The girl waves slightly. “Can I come in?”

Do you really want to? Anne thinks, but she says, “Uh, sure.”

With a sigh of relief, Kiara steps over the threshold.

“Apparently I called you a baby last time you were here,” Anne says. “Sorry about that. That’s not fair to you, and you don’t scare the shit out of me like an actual vampire infant would. But, I’m guessing you’re not here for an apology.”

Kitty smiles awkwardly. “Uh, no. I’m here to try and fix your computer. Um, the little television-box-thing you never use?”

“Oh! That! Yeah, I never knew how to get that thing working.”

“Yeah, no promises,” Kelly says, “but Jane thought it might help you… connect.”

That really gets Anne’s attention. She’s not surprised it was Jane who told her, because of the way Kim described the computer, but that part about connecting.

Anne wants honesty, for once. If Kat (that sounds right) is offering, she will take it.

-

To Anne’s surprise (and shame), Kat is able to get la machine infernale up and running in just a few minutes. She explains the mouse, the monitor, and the programs built into the operating system. The computer is not to get wet, nor is it to be fed. Do not sacrifice anything to it in an attempt to make it work properly.

Why Kat felt the need to include that instruction is a mystery, but it was probably necessary.

“Now, I had this whole speech with my step-grandma – back when I talked with my family – and I’ll give the same to you. Don’t believe everything you read on the internet. A lot of it’s lies, or personal opinion. On that note, not everyone you talk to is who they say they are. Don’t do things like send money or give out personal details if someone asks, and don’t meet with someone without people around.”

“Okay, I’m absolutely going to do that last one – but for the rest of them? Sure!”

Kat genuinely smiles. Wow, when was the last time Anne did that, and didn’t eat the person afterwards? Must have been ages, because it feels like she’s come across an oasis after months in a desert.

“So,” she goes on, “what exactly is the internet? I know I pay the bill for it -” ‘pay’ is a strong word - “but I don’t actually know what it entails.”

“Okay, well, you know… books?”

“Yes.”

“You know the television?”

“Yeeesss.”

“You know those coffee shops where people yelled at each other about philosophy, in the eighteenth century?”

“Yep, yep, yep.” Even though she was never invited, the sexist pricks.

“The internet is all of those things together,” Kat explains, “but worse.”

Anne gasps. “I love it already.”

-

The room is dark. No lights, curtains shut. The only source of light is the faint white glow of the monitor.

The internet is, as Kat had warned, a shitshow. Anne thinks it’s just the best thing. University professors and the lowest common denominator share the same spaces, and send vile, scathing messages to one another over fictional characters. Maybe she should do some research, just so she can play along. It’d be just like her days at court, getting one person at another’s throat, playing them off each other… ah, she misses that, if nothing else. It’s just not the same, now.

Oh, but then there are the videos. Little mortal Anne would never have thought it possible. What an idea! What awful and wonderful things humans create when they’re not being killed!

Anne’s exploration is interrupted when the light from the hallway fills the room.

“Ah. So you haven’t left.”

Catalina? Come to check on her? Anne turns – yes, it is her, likely wondering why her evening hasn’t been ruined yet. Or, maybe not. Anne has a terrible habit of putting words in other people’s mouths.

“You haven’t been downstairs this evening,” Her housemate continues. “Jane was worried about you.”

Anne doubts that’s true. Not that Jane doesn’t worry, she worries about almost everything (who cares if her teeth show when she smiles?), but she would be thrilled to know Anne is being quiet.

“Just looking at things,” Anne mumbles.

“Hm. Ominous. What ‘things’?”

Well, the best way to explain would be to show, right?

Anne plays the video. Normal night sky, a deep navy. Then, violet, then orange, and the fiery sun rises over the horizon, accented by the crimson heavens.

There’s a thump from behind her. Catalina has flattened herself against the opposite wall, eyes wide, fangs bared.

“I will not die so easily, Boleyn!” she snarls. “I’ve survived assassination attempts before, and I’ll do it again!”

“I’m not trying to kill you, girl! It’s a video! Do you almost die every time you put the sun in one of your paintings? Because that would be a much bigger problem than me showing you this.”

She presses the button to make the video play once more, and makes a show of standing in front of the screen, conspicuously not combusting.

Catalina stares at her. Then, at the monitor. She approaches, slowly.

“Can you make it go again?”

Anne does. The sun is reflected in Catalina’s eyes for the first time in over five hundred years.

“…I miss it, sometimes.”

Oh God, it’s happening, Anne thinks. Out loud, she says, “Miss what?”

“The sunrise.” From the sound of her voice, calm and quiet, Anne gets the impression Catalina’s not really here. “My home. My family. It doesn’t matter how far away I am, in years or in miles. They’re gone, and the name Trastámara means nothing.”

Oh, that’s it. Of course it is.

Anne did not what it was like to be a princess in the early 1400s, partially because she wasn’t born yet. She knows from her own experiences with Whatever the Fuck the Sun King Was Playing At that the nobility was constantly having to be perfect at all times; not even a twitch of emotion could play upon your face, even as you drain all your resources to support the near-impossible standards of fashion, or it could easily be all for naught.

She’s just been thinking, maybe, something like that might be why Catalina has the sort of aversion to talking about her emotions that would normally be reserved for holy symbols.

“Catalina. You’re not a princess anymore.”

Catalina sneers, all traces of vulnerability gone. “Yes, you have taunted me about that many times before.”

“Not a taunt.” Sometimes. “A reminder you no longer have to try and be perfect. I’m not gonna tell any peers of the realm if you feel sad sometimes.”

“So you feel the need to drive me to madness in the hopes I accept your view?”

Okay, so maybe Anne’s been a little coarse. In fairness, she tried passive-aggressive behaviour and it didn’t work. There’s a reason she goes after Catalina, and it’s not just because it’s easy.

Anne points to herself. “Unstoppable force.” To Catalina. “Immovable object. You move, I stop.”

“…Right. Okay.” A pause. “I know, logically, that you are right – about that particular thing. But, it makes me feel like I’m ignoring part of myself.”

“Just have the good without the bad. If the King of Spain has anything to say about it, kill him and rule the country as their immortal god-queen.”

“I would never be so rash,” Catalina huffs. “I’ll try. Just… don’t mock me for it. If I’m keeping at least one good thing about my life, it will be threatening anyone who insults me with imprisonment.”

“Yessssss…”

Both Anne and Catalina jump at the voice from outside the room. Anne acts first – she opens the door a crack, and sees Jane’s eye on the other side.

“You’ve been at it for two hundred years,” Jane says. “Two. Hundred. Years. I don’t care if you don’t get along straight away, let me have this.”

And, fearing her ire, they do.

~~~

Anna’s on the roof again.

There are two main reasons for this. One, her room is in the attic and it’s the easiest way out of the house. Two, it’s a good place to sit, look up at the stars (at least the ones you can still see, anyway) and think about things.

Kat is on her right, arms around her knees, looking up at the moon. Anna does not think she’s paying much attention to it, however.

“Whatcha thinking about?”

Kat doesn’t answer straight away. “Just how things are better.”

“…They are?”

“I’m living… uh, residing in a house with people I actually like. This is the first time that’s happened since I was about eight, I think.”

Wow. Anna hadn’t had a terribly good time when she was alive – no rights, no fun allowed, go marry some dude you’ve never even met, and no you can’t have fun then either – but Kat’s life might beat out Cathy’s hopeless search for love, in terms of tragedy.

“I cannot truly speak for you, but I have found this…” Anna waves her hands, trying to find the right way to put it, “whole thing to be very affirming. There is no-one to hold you down. No-one to stop you from doing what you like. Well, except priests, but they can be ignored, mostly.”

“You don’t brood about it too much?”

“Why would I? It’s the only reason I’ve been able to see the things I’ve seen. To be here, now, talking to you.” All because she told the wrong (or right) person about how bored she was. Of course she would accept the offer to have fun, even if the whole process wasn’t. “Do you?”

Kat stops to think again, so that’s a ‘yes’. “I’m still getting used to it. But, I don’t mind it. I’m not scared of the things I used to be afraid of. That’s good, right?”

“Sounds good to me. But, if you falter, that’s okay, too. We have supported Cathy, who was the youngest before you, we can do the same here – so long as you support us in turn.”

“Oh, yeah. She’s got that thing about finding the one.” How does Kat manage to fit so much bitterness in only two words? “Don’t get it. She’s got people who love her already. You, and those three around the corner. She doesn’t need them.”

“That’s a very good way of putting it, actually.” Anna’s argument against serious dating has been that three of the people Parr’s courted have tried to murder her, and her ex-husband technically succeeded. It hasn’t worked, but maybe a more positive viewpoint might win out against two centuries of stubbornness.

“Anna von Kleve.”

von Kleve looks down. Ah, speak of the devil. She’s on the balcony below them.

“Cathy! Kat has had some good thoughts about love!”

“Oh? How wonderful.”

She doesn’t seem like she thinks it is, though. She almost looks angry, with the hard eyes and pursed lips and the red-brown mottled book in her hand -

Oh no.

“I think, Anna,” Cathy intones, her voice sharper than any stake, “that we should talk about personal responsibility first.”

[lordalcorthedorkbender]

TAU Transdimentional Arc pt 2.

“what” Toby said, wide eyed, “ what did you say”

“Huh? Welcome?” Dipper responded.

“no no no.. After that”

“uhhhh Gravity Falls?” Dipper said. A look of confusion on his face.

“yeah I think I went back in time...” Toby breathed out. 

The wide eyed, and bewildered Toby was met with a few minutes of silence. 

“...o-ok....um we still need to get to the shack” Dipper said shakily.

“yeah. Yeah we should...” 

Dipper slowly turned and made his way through the forest. And Toby, not wanting to be devoured by whatever unholy creatures lurk here, kept a steady pace just a few feet behind Dipper.

The silence was deafening. Toby’s mind wandered.

 If this truly is the past, then what’s Tyrone doing here? Maybe this was when he was human? Wait if he messes up here, will the future change?? Oh no what if he disappears?? What if I disappear!? I can’t disappear!! Oh shit Alcor’s gonna be very mad oh fu- 

“hey are you ok?” Dipper asked with concern, “you look you’re gonna barf”

“y-yes.I mean no I’m not gonna barf I’m just-” 

“just relax. We’re nearly there.”

Toby soon noticed a small house...? Wait no. It’s an obvious tourist trap. It looked vaguely like the Stanley Memorial Library (or what he saw from books). This further added to the Time Travel theory that Toby now is almost convinced it to be true.

Dipper must have noticed his curiosity (or at least his gaze), and beckoned him to the front door. Upon further inspection, Toby noticed claw marks on the surrounding trees, big paw prints that do NOT LOOK NORMAL HOLY SHI-

“Yeah it doesn’t look much but it’s home ya know. And don’t mind the um...the blood. We haven’t cleaned that yet.”

Toby looked down and lifted his shoe. A black sticky...whatever had clung to his soles.

“This is...blood?” Toby asked with skepticism.

“well demon blood.”

“I thought demons bled Gold Ichor.” Toby mumbled.

Dipper merely raised his eyebrow at Toby’s remark and headed to the porch to offer him a doormat.

“you should probably wipe that off”

As Toby passed through the front porch he felt a force that pushed against him. It felt like it was pushing away his soul. Nonetheless, he still managed to pass. As he gasped for air, he looked up and saw a barrier covering the entire shack. It rippled and showed various symbols. It looked akin to a bubble covered in shifting colors.

“What was that” Toby gasped.

“That was an anti demon barrier” Dipper said proudly, “I helped put it up.”

“Ok then why did it do that?” Toby said still a bit shaken from feeling his soul move.

“uh..I don’t know. We should probably ask Great Uncle Ford.”

Just when Toby was about to ask who Ford is, the door slammed open and revealed a girl sporting a very very very bright sweater.

“DIPPER YOU’RE BACK!!” The girl said giddily. “Oh and who’s this fellow” She purred while striking a pose.

“Mabel meet Toby. Toby meet my clone” Dipper introduced.

“Hey you’re the clone!” Mabel argued, “I was born first!”

“Yeah, well I have-”

“Excuse me?” Toby interrupted. “Can I please have some water?”

The twins stared at him, and immediately invited their guest in.They led him into the kitchen where several other people were. There was a red haired teen, a hillbilly, an overgrown baby with a pompadour, and

“Is that a Minotaur??” Toby pointed.

“It’s MANotaur boy! MANotaur!!” The beast boomed while flexing his muscles.

“o-ok..” Toby hurriedly accepted the glass of water Mabel was handing him, and drank it in one gulp. This proved to be a mistake because soon Toby was choking on ...glitter??

“Why *cough* IS tH *chough* GLITTER-”

“sorry about that, Mabel just does that” Dipper said apologetically

“Now you can be beautiful in the inside!!” Mabel said enthusiastically 

While Toby was hacking and coughing, the front door swung open,hitting the Pompadoured child. Two men (twins) stepped inside. The other held a gun, while the other a bat pierced with nails.

“EVERYONE DON’T MOVE” The one with the gun said. “The barrier was disturbed”

“The hell does that mean” The sentient Pompadour demanded, running his butt.

“It means there’s a demon in here.”

[argylemnwrites]

Life Changes

Pairing: Seth Levine x MC (Jessica Parker)

Book: Red Carpet Diaries (about 5 years after Book 3)

Word Count: ~2000

Rating: PG

Summary: A surprise statement from Jessica might mean doubling a blessing for their family.

Author’s Note: Written for the “Things You Said” prompt 19. The things you said when we were the happiest we ever were as requested by @drakewalker04​ and Day 9 of the Choices March Challenge (Euphoria). Trigger warning for discussions of infertility and adoption.

“Come on, Ben. What do you say we stack some blocks? I hear they’re all the hottest thing with the daycare crowd.”

Ben let out a long string of random consonants as Seth laid down on his stomach across from him, watching him bang two blocks together.

“Sorry, sorry! My mistake. No plebeian daycare for the child of the Hollywood elite, only a personal nanny,” he said, picking up one of the yellow blocks laying on the floor and placing it on top of the red one that was sitting in front of Ben. Ben watched Seth’s movements and tried to imitate them, but got frustrated pretty quickly when he knocked the yellow block off in an attempt to add a blue one.

Seth wanted to scoop his son in his arms and just talk to him, as he was finding that usually soothed him pretty quickly, but he kept demonstrating the stacking motion. He knew Jessica would have his head if he quit working on fine motor tasks. He thought Ben was doing fine, all things considered. After all, he’d only been in LA for about three weeks at this point, and he was already more vocal, even if he didn’t have any words yet, and he was responding to his new name like a total champ.

But Jessica had taken him to the international adoption clinic at UCLA earlier this week, and after meeting with a developmental specialist and a therapist  had come home with about 57 tasks that she and him needed to work on with Ben to help catch him up when it came to his fine motor and speech development and to try and ease the transition from a Ugandan orphanage to a Brentwood home. This was in addition, of course, to all the research she’d done since they’d first considered adopting.

But after all the pain and heartache and frustration it had taken to get to this point, all the tears and disappointment and fatigue that came with trying and trying for years, all the stress and paperwork and need to let control over anything fly out the window once they’d decided on an international adoption, letting Jessica go back to her Type A ways, particularly when she was focused on making things the best they could be for their son, seemed like a pretty reasonable thing. The truth was that Seth was so insanely happy about finally getting to be a father that he would agree to just about anything Jessica wanted, particularly since her connection with Ben hadn’t been quite as instantaneous as his was. But things were progressing, and they clearly both loved being able to bring their son home.

“So… I’m late.”

Her voice interrupted Seth’s thoughts. He looked up towards the doorway, taking in Jessica standing there in a pale pink jumpsuit. “Relax, Iowa. Chazz isn’t picking you up for…” he trailed off, sliding his phone out of his back pocket and checking the time, “20 minutes.” He looked back down at Ben, who was now just sliding the blocks across the floor, babbling excitedly as he did so.

“No, not late for something. I’m late.”

His head jerked back up at that. It had been a long time since those words had brought him or her any sort of hope. A very long time. Her cycles had been pretty irregular since she’d gone off the pill all those years ago, and anytime they’d thought it had been “too long” to just be her cycle in the past, it had been followed by disappointment. 

“How late are we talking here?”

Jessica waited a moment before she answered, “My last period was… four months ago.”

“Holy shi-” but he cut himself off at the look in Jessica’s eyes. It would be just his luck to have his son’s first word be a swear.

“It is probably nothing. With all the stress and travel and everything, I could be this late for no real reason. With everything going on, I hadn’t really notice even, but…”

“What?”

“The dress I was gonna wear to brunch didn’t zip all the way.”

“Okay. Okay,” Seth said, nodding slowly, scooping up Ben into his arms as he stood up, “I think you have to take a pregnancy test.”

She sighed at that. “I know. Do we even have any left?”

“Probably,” he said, joining her in the hallway and heading towards their ensuite. “It felt like we were buying them in bulk for a while.”

“Do they go bad?” Jessica asked as she rummaged through the little cabinet that was right inside their bathroom, digging past extra toilet paper, Kleenex, and tampons, to the ovulation and pregnancy tests that had been shoved away after too many months of negatives. Sure, they’d never gone back to actively preventing pregnancy, but once they’d committed to the adoption path for growing their family, there had been this sort of unspoken agreement to not go back to that regimented, painful, stressful, calculated pattern of trying, and the tests had just been kept out of sight.

After several seconds of hunting, Jessica pulled a little pink box scanning over it quickly, “Well, looks like it’s good for another couple months,” she said once she found the date printed on the side, but she made no move to step further into the bathroom.

“You can do this, Iowa. No matter what it says, it’s gonna be okay.”

She breathed in and out deeply a few times before she spoke, “This was never the plan, Seth. We were supposed to get pregnant within a year of trying, and when that didn’t happen, we saw Dr. Agrawal and she was supposed to help us figure out how to get pregnant, and when that didn’t happen, we were supposed to find our kids through adoption and-”

“Jessica, you’re right,” he interrupted before Jessica could spiral any further.  “Nothing has gone to plan here. Why would you expect bringing our son home and settling into being parents to be any different?”

“I just wanted something to go right, just one thing.”

Seth paused for a moment. It was rare when he had to be the optimistic one in their household, instead typically using some self-deprecation and humor to cope while Jessica was usually able to plan their way to better days in her mind. But right now, she needed him to keep spirits high.

“Hey!” he said, settling Ben onto his hip with one arm, sliding his free hand over her jaw and neck, “I think having this little guy in our lives has been pretty alright!”

“I know, I didn’t mean that… of course finally meeting our son has been wonderful.”

“Jessica…” he sighed out, tilting her head up slightly to look her in the eyes. “I didn’t mean to make you feel guilty. I know this is a lot to go through, and I get that having to take another one of these probably brings back all sorts of awful memories I can only begin to imagine.”

“It’s not just that, Seth. I.. I don’t even know if I’m more scared of the test being positive or negative. Because negative, well you and I have been through that in the past, and while it hurts, I know we’ll get through it again. But positive…” Jessica trailed off, taking a deep breath before she continued, “We’ve never been there before. And what if we get all excited and something bad happens? I traveled internationally, and I definitely haven’t been taking precautions like I’m pregnant.

“And what does being excited even mean about us as parents? We just brought him home and I don’t… I don’t want to act like he’s just a consolation prize, and does being happy undermine how wonderful it felt to have him and hold him as ours? And he’s just going to be getting used to us and his life with us, and then what? We throw an infant into the mix?”

Seth shook his head, “Remember how when we first met with the adoption agency, and they told us we had to be prepared to just take this one step at a time? Well, I think the same thing applies here.”

Jessica nodded and let out a big sigh, “You know I’m not always the best at that.”

“Trust me, Jessica. If I could pee on that stick for you and it would be at all helpful, I’d do it. And while biology wasn’t my favorite subject in high school, I’m at least 70% sure that won’t work.”

She gave him a little smile before taking a step back and shutting the door in his face. After a couple of minutes, he heard a flush and the faucet running, so he knocked and entered.

“Alright, just a couple of minutes until the moment of truth,” she said, drying her hands on the teal towel hanging next to the sink. 

“How did we use to distract each other while we waited for these things to cook?” Seth asked, bouncing Ben on his hip and handing him the towel he was reaching for.

Jessica actually let out a little chuckle, “I think by the end, we just resigned ourselves to them being negative.” She reached over and grabbed Ben snuggling him close. “Be honest, Seth. What do you want it to be?”

Seth shrugged, “We always said we wanted two or three kids.”

“So you want it to be positive?”

“I mean, yeah? That’s nothing new. I’ve always hoped that we’d get a positive one day. Do you not want a positive?”

Jessica ran her hand over Ben’s curls before she answered. “I don’t know if I’m just so convinced that it will be negative that I’m trying to not get my hopes up, or the thought of having two children under the age of… two,” she said, clearly doing some quick math, “just has me terrified. I mean, I barely am figuring out how to be a mother to him.”

“Pssh, Iowa. You’ve survived a Markus von Groot set. You really think two babies as cute as this guy are going to be worse to deal with than a temperamental Dutchman?”

Jessica genuinely laughed at that, her head thrown back and her blonde curls bounding across her shoulder as Ben continued to pass the towel from one hand to another. Seth figured it was a testament to how worked up she was, waiting for the results of the pregnancy test, that she hadn’t commented on how passing objects from one hand to another was something they were supposed to work on with him.

After a few more tense, painful moments the alarm chirped on Jessica’s phone. They both turned to look at the white plastic stick on the side of the sink, Jessica flipping it over as she’d done so many times before. But this time, it wasn’t one vertical line. It was two.

“Oh my God,” said Seth after a few seconds, finally finding his voice. “Jessica...:”

He turned to face her, taking in her wide eyes, a slight glisten noticeable in the corners, a smile spreading across her lips. “Seth, we’re… We’re gonna have another baby.”

Seth pulled her into a tight hug, Ben sandwiched in between them. Well, Ben and their child currently growing inside Jessica. He felt so full of joy, of hope, and of contentment. It was like the feeling he’d gotten when they’d first seen a picture of Ben, this feeling of euphoric potential. But now not only was there a child coming to him and Jessica, but he had his son right there with him this time. It was everything.

“I know we shouldn’t get carried away,” Jessica mumbled into his chest, “But Seth, I’m just…”

“I know, Jessica. Me too. Me too.”

Permatag: @octobereighth @drakewalker04​ @kimmiedoo5​ @speedyoperarascalparty​ @mfackenthal​ @lilyofchoices​ @thequeenofcronuts​ @jamesashtonisbae​ 

Seth x MC only: @choicesarehard​ @chaotichuman0090​

Events: @choicesmarchchallenge​ @lovealexhunt​

[breadcaaat]

part one

Jeongguk x hybrid!reader

| part one | part two | part three | part four | part five

Words: 2.5k

Warnings: violence & gore, human trafficking, bad language, abandoned ramen??

There are few things more liberating than running from your empty, dingy little studio apartment to eat ramen at midnight post break-up. Something about it makes the noodles taste better.

The little shop was quiet this late at night, the sort of modern Gothic quiet that made Jeongguk wanna drink wine and brood at ominous-looking treelines. Not that he likes wine or is particularly good at being handsome while brooding - it's just a concept. There's plenty of room for concepts this late at night. Daydreams and stuff. Night dreams? No, that'd just be a dream. I'm not asleep, so how does that work? Is there a word for daydreams at night?

He's got his nose buried in his phone when two salarymen - off late - slip into the little store and sit down. Google says there is no word for a daydream at night. Lame.

The waiter sets a few bowls of food in front of him and he thanks the old man quietly, setting his phone down and clicking his chopsticks together. What if humans had straight fingers? Like, just five chopsticks a hand.

Two more guests enter. They sit with the two salarymen, and he takes that first hot mouthful of noodles. Wait - if they were fingers they'd be made out of skin, right? So, like, skin sticks.

That's basically like having tiny, hard dicks for hands. Or no-knuckled fingers.

...Gross.

He takes a break from eating (momentary loss of appetite) and takes notice of the table for four.

It's an interesting group - individually, they were mundane as a cup of black coffee - but together they were unlikely. The salarymen seemed poorer now he was looking at them better. Greasy hair, bumpy skin, untailored blazers, slightly off-shade ties. One had a goatee and the other a mustache, neither really solid. Pubescent, kind of, like... like ironed pubes... I'm never growing a beard. Across from them sat a dude with bleached hair and heavy jewelry. He had a yellow smirk on his face that gave Jeongguk the feeling that he hadn't earned those shiny chains without a bit of underhandedness.

The last guest was covered head to toe in baggy clothing. He couldn't see their face, their fingers, anything. They kept their eyes down and their hands to themself.

Mustache - he looked a bit more intelligent than Goatee - smiled at the old waiter as he served them some drinks, and then pulled out a cigarette and held it to him. The old man looked puzzled, to say the least. "It's been a long day, hasn't it?" Mustache prompted, holding it a little closer. "You should take a smoke break. We'll be fine here." He smiled, and Jeongguk noticed his tongue was yellow with nicotine.

The old man's shoulder's stiffened, but he took it without a word and - after shuttering close all the blinds in the room - exited out the back. It took Jeongguk no more than a hot second to realize he should probably do the same.

He started to quietly gather his few possessions, and was about to get up to go for the door when he realized something rather inconvenient; the door was on that group's side of the restaurant. He'd have to pass them to get out. Where he was - at a booth tucked away on the other side of the restaurant, behind the serving counter in their perspective - they hadn't seemed to notice him yet.

He slid back into the booth and held his breath.

Mustache sat back, sighed, tugging at his labels a little. Goatee was putting off some serious I-hate-the-man-I’m-looking-at vibes, and the man he was looking at, Bleach, was receiving them with a smug sort of glee. Jesus, his teeth were yellow.

“Needs some whitening strips or somethin’,” he mused under his breath, and that’s when he got a look at the last one in the group.

At his whisper, she - they were a she - peeked at him from behind her hood with grey-hazel eyes. Like, completely. The color of her iris totally spanned across where the whites of her eyes should have been, and the pupils were huge in the shadow of her hood. They both froze as their eyes met.

What fresh hell?

The hair behind his neck prickled and gooseflesh rippled across his skin. He realized then that this group was more than just a dysfunctional business get-together - this was something completely out of his depth and something he needed to get away from now.

I have ramen at home, he thought, and with that shifted to the end of his booth to break for it, ramen abandoned.

He stopped though, as Mustache stood up and walked around the table until he was stood next to the girl with grey eyes, saying: “Stand up.”

She did, without a noise. Wordlessly, Mustache reached up and flipped her hood off. Her hair had the kitchen-scissors treatment and was matted in places, hanging loose. She was wearing a wide headband, too - this he took off without any permission to touch her, and she didn’t react.

Underneath the band, two ears flicked up - like, legitimate fucking cat ears. Thick, furry, rounded a little and black with a white spot on the back the size of a thumbprint. She bore Mustache’s probing with a dangerously quiet, docile attitude. He took a thin flashlight and checked the insides of her ears, lightly touched the tips to see if they’d flick. “She’s dirty,” he muttered, and Bleach pulled out his phone to play a mobile game. “Nothing a q-tip can’t clean,” he replied. Goatee growled a small warning.

He shined the flashlight in each of her pupils and she flinched, sensitive to light. He seemed satisfied with the reaction, however, and tipped her head up to check inside her nostrils, then pulled her jaw down to check her mouth. “Say ‘ah,’” he said, and she complied, and he shoved a finger in to prod at her teeth. They had some sort of fanged, metal retainer on them; he popped these out for a second and then popped them back in after checking her real teeth. He moved down then and unzipped her hoodie to reveal nothing underneath - Jeongguk flinched and glanced away, then glanced back.

This is a slave trade, he noted mutedly as the examination continued. I’m witnessing a real-life slave trade. Mustache did a couple more things after that - had her jump (holy shit she could jump - her fingers tapped the ceiling,) tested her arm strength and looked at her hands, checked down the back of her pants and reached in to touch something (ew,) probed at her feet and ankles and knees. She bore it all with the patience of a saint. His final move to was to tug at a thick collar on her neck - a pinkie-nail thick band of leather about half a thumb wide.

When he was done - the whole process took about three minutes - he took a step back and just looked at her. Bleach’s eyes flicked up from his game, audio still playing, and scrutinized Mustache with red-rimmed eyes.

There was silence.

Bleach heaved a sigh then and clicked his phone off. “Shit - you buying? I got a kitty at home in bed and I’m fucking tired.” Kitty?

“How much?” Mustache asked.

“Seven million won, in cash.”

“That’s double than what you offered the first time!” Goatee finally speaks, and it’s with barely contained anger. He looks like he’s holding in the fart of a lifetime.

“Tigers cost more than dogs.” Bleach shrugged.

“Aish,” Mustache muttered, and stood and looked at her again. A tense moment passed, and both Bleach and Goatee got progressively broodier. Neither of them had attractive brooding expressions.

With a stretch and a scratch at his chin, Mustache heaved a sigh, picked up a filled purse from beside his chair, and said - "Half now, half by Thursday."

"Deal. Stripes, c'mere." She padded closer to him - that must've been her name - as he took the purse. He then pulled something out of his jacket pocket - it looked like a TV remote but only had two buttons and some print in silver sharpie at the bottom. He handed it to Stripes.

Mustache and Goatee both visibly flinched, and as the remote passed hands Mustache started to protest but Bleach interrupted him by loudly sucking a hiss through his teeth.

"Jungsu-shi," he started, more patronizing than anything else. "Can't give it straight to you or you'll kill me and take your money back, yeah? So just wait until I'm outta here and then she'll give it to you. No problem." This very much seemed to be a problem with Mustache (Jungsu-shi?) and Goatee - now they both looked like they were holding in massive farts from fear and anger, respectively, sweat misting at the temples and red in the face.

The door chimes jingled as Bleach left the restaurant.

Jeongguk was holding his breath and it seemed like everyone else was too. Stripes stared down at the remote, eyes unmoving. A minute passed. Two.

"He's gone now, so give it to me," Mustache said. There was a barely contained waver in his voice.

Stripes looked up from the remote but did not hand it to him. Jeongguk could read a lot of things in those alien eyes. Indecisiveness. Defiance. Calculation.

It was in that moment that Goatee's anger-fart burst forth with all the gusto of a night after Mexican, and as he stood up with a yell commanding obedience and force enough to send his chair screeching and Jeongguk startling in his seat, he read in those grey-hazel eyes something else: anger. Pure, unadulterated anger fueled by bitter blood and killer canines. Which she bared then, sharp grey metal to match her eyes.

When Jeongguk was a kid, he did about nine years of tae kwon do. He took part in a handful of tournaments, too, and one fist fight in middle school. God knows how many action movies he's watched. Fight scenes are cinematic. People get hit and they get back up despite blows to the head and broken bones because they're passionate characters - or whatever. Grunts go down after a punch from the protagonist. People like fight scenes because they're full of energy, not malice. Even the fight scenes that try to be realistic - there's always something held back, always something inaccurate. The fight scene he witnesses is over before he processes it's a fight scene.

He's pretty sure Goatee makes the first move, but Stripes reacts so fast that it looks like they both launch at each other in sync. She tosses the remote away and they tumble down to the floor snarling, Stripes on top and mostly out of sight behind the serving counter. There's a struggle, some kicking, the sounds of flesh hitting flesh, a growl, a gurgle. He stops kicking and she disappears behind the counter. A pool of blood rapidly crawls across the floor. The remote skids over to Jeongguk's feet and Mustache follows it.

They make some really awkward eye contact.

On impulse, Jeongguk grabs the remote and runs for the kitchen. Mustache yells some choice words and chases him.

Shit shit - they crash into the kitchen and he yanks a steel rolling table across his pursuers path, only to take a pot thrown to the head - fuck, ow! Shit! He stumbles, and it's just enough of a delay that Mustache vaults over the table gracelessly and stumbles in front of him, whipping out a butterfly knife. His panting was the loudest thing in the room.

"Listen kid - " he cuffed him over the ear because he looked too dizzy " - Hey, listen - if you don't give that to me right fucking now she's going to kill us both, hear? So fucking hand it over - !" He never finishes his sentence, cut off when a knife enters one ear and pokes out the other.

Jeongguk chokes out what might've been a sob.

Everything's slowed down now. He follows the hand at the knife's handle up to Stripes's face, which is covered in blood up to her eyes and down to her neck, dripping off her chin. Between her teeth, she's holding Goatee's throat, which she lets dribble out with a plop. She lets go of the handle. Mustache sags to the floor. Jeongguk thinks he's choking but he's not really sure; there's a buzzing in his ears.

She shifts so that she's crouching in front of him then, and he tosses the remote at her defeatedly. I'm going to die, he thinks, but she simply grabs it and then crawls towards the pot Mustache threw. Setting the remote on the ground, she takes the pot and smashes it. The effect is immediate.

Her hands fly up to her throat with an agonized cry and she sags to the ground, writhing in pain. Jeongguk's confused but still impulsive. He crawls over before he can think not to, just like before.

"What's - what's wrong?" She bats at him with a clawed hand distractedly and he dodges it " - Hey, I'm trying to help! Show me what's wrong!"

She does so, unintentionally - that same clawed hand joins the other at her throat, tearing and prying at the leather there. "Get it off," she chokes. "Get it off!"

"I will, I will!" How?

He could see the willpower it cost her to take her hands away, instead bunching the fabric of his hoodie in her fist. It was the first good look he got at the collar: thick, ungiving, brutal. And electric, apparently - off to the side there was a plastic box bolted firmly into the leather, with two prongs branching off of it and to the skin of her neck, like a dog's shock collar. He yanked on this, trying to pop it away. "Shit," he murmured when it didn't budge at all, "Okay, not gonna work - roll over - is there a latch? How do I get it off?" She rolled over and pointed at the remote before letting out another sob.

"But that's broken," he hissed, moreso to himself than her but it earned him a pinch to the side with a very sharp pair of fingers. She whimpered something about numbers, moving her hair to reveal where the collar was latched with a three-digit padlock.

...a remote that only had two buttons and some print in silver sharpie at the bottom...

Scrabbling for the remote, he looked at the broken shell and there he found it: 825. "Here!" he said, and then entered it and yanked out the padlock. The heavy leather sagged off her neck and onto the ground.

She rattled out a sigh of relief. Her sobbing quieted to soft whimpers, then to nothing.

Jeongguk must've sat there for a minute or two digesting both his ramen and the events of the night, when police sirens wailed - muffled by the shop front, down the street. Both heads swiveled in their direction.

He heard a pair of car doors thunk shut and turned to look at her with wide eyes, only the tiger girl wasn't there. All that was left to say she'd been there at all was a broken leather shackle and an open back door.

Also, a pair of corpses he'd rather not smell or look at anymore.

A/N: uhhh first fic?? I’m riding a wave of impulsiveness posting this right now. No fucking clue when the next one comes out but if ya’ll berate me the notifs will prompt me into finishing. I am incapable of motivation.

Tag List: (fuck it i’ll make one of these too) @feed-my-geek-soul thamks for beta reading 😘

[lucykisaragi]

cards i still need fullbodys of

these are under a readmore! listed by character and card name as stated on the aikatsu wikia’s cardlists! (yes some cards have an * in the title due to the words technicly being slurs, i didn’t name the cards)

ICHIGO

sweet chocolate kimono of the spring flowers peach brilliant gothic appeal of a frill dress heart catch little white bird by the waters pisces of mermaid the bear swimming ring ribbon ribbon summer the witch & the magic mirror if its a dress then definitely new swallowtail the witch with a red ribbon speaking of alphine medows waku waku koh-haku white cosmos east and west pink sugary pink fancy gift radiance of the blossom special sweet memories are in the future playful kunai throwing

AOI

prism star sweet chocolate kimono of the spring flowers blue light of the sun blue intellectual gothic heading for the party have some black tea exact timer magic of the beautiful snow shutter chance i am that girls number one fan welcome to the house of sweets the rainbow that stiches across the sky cool chemsitry messenger from the future even the warpping needs to be brillant blue santa present of the holy night east and west blue radiance of the comet star of tears futuristic siegfried three twinkle graceful lady looking up at the stars cosmo night

RAN

night of ageha blue rose under the moonlight rock style kimono of the spring flowers purple secret message light of the sun purple glossy gothic purple ageha enjoy summer festival romantic elegant its because we are rivals austere as usual math teacher of exact accuracy unforgettable memories purple santa heart of japan purple radiance of the iris five twinkle beautiful figure noble amaranth healing cushion jewlery night leo's shooting stars leo's shooting stars +

OTOME

rainbow alice orange of happiness sweet chocolate pinky fruits feelings above the clouds fluffy chic together with the dolphins potepo-tan at the summer festival new stylish theif forgetful santa-san happy tree shiny santa snowman heart of japan - pop east and west pop radiance of the canary yellow popping star mascot character pajama tinder night fluffy seal

YURIKA

elegant smile resident of the bird cage tone of black & red kimono of the spring flowers dark blue elegant noble pure white queen colorful cake surprise present gothic santa mint noel heart of japan - dark east and west dark retro gothic suggested gothic two twinkle the lad's dream and mind's darkness charming star

SAKURA

guide of fairytales girl of the spring garden sweet chocolate lime candy polka dot puririn heart of japan - sakura east and west sakura as fate unfolds gorgeous daughter of flowers pillow for cupping the ogiri's master of ceremony the one in bloom is the smiling flower

KAEDE

pop magic magical ribbon charm of the monotone to the colorful pop addicitive cake relaxation delivered cookie stars heart of japan - yamabuki east and west yamabuki my heart is for you surprise chocolate glowing star of the night circus usher enjoy movie midnight tv

SEIRA

la la la porter chance catch union rock ball of memories brave charmont happy top spinning rockish sword dance

KII

colorful title milk clown magical style marching style sweet temptation happy wrapping yummy yummy yu-mmy ghosts are surprising magical present cr-cr-cracker

SORA

stone charm bohemian who weaves the wind bohemian earth matte mint green navy indian glittering bijoux

MARIA

maiden of ribbons airy painter the alps flower flower country the beach & shells flora snow fluttering alice paris daisy

SHION

dreaming alice heading towards the future dreams ufo skirt blue candy stripe puririn dignified umbrella spinning leave the program to me

MIZUKI

secret queen adult like tulie casual elegant her walking poise is that of a lily the off time spent with everyone heart of japan moon moonlit nights marine blue sparkling glossy bouquet of my blessing six twinkle amethyst goddess sparkling moon printing moon my new goal

MIKURU

happy greet surf girl devil paint honey valentine let's go to the beach sweet scent of the beach coconut scented night in search of wreath materials fluffy penguin poppin penguin

NOEL

white angely

MICHELLE

lively coord

HIKARI

purple elegant shining swallowtail

AKARI

lets sing a show sweet chocolate five court musicians crimson heart of thrill princess peach heading towards the sky dream skip scarecrows dream pink pop girl sky dress akari sunshine + obento-san of my dreams natural reindeer dreaming red radiance of the cherry four twinkle my favorite plush toy lets make a snowman

SUMIRE

blue noblesse sumire colored tale sweet chocolate five court musicians blue mysterious magic user mischievous witch magical painter bell that glows in the night sky quiet sound of the ocean morning glory that blooms in the night dress that delivered the wish purple cat sith sumire gelato+ both scholar & warrior violet santa navy noel the glistening flute radiance of the aquar little devil punkish gothic prince tiny bit of happiness suport for me rockin' gothic special tea

HINAKI

sweet chocolate merry of the three court ladies three court ladies yellow princess yellow king of hearts king of pop negative check pop craftsman precious contents new discovery...? im feeling fantasy devil tulie hinaki twister ai-katsu yo-ru-shi-ku orange santa white fairy surprise is on the bonus add-on lively drum roll warm coord vivid march pretzels of love poppin green seven colored vivid special flavor found only in the night

MADOKA

five court musicians peach ski ski sweet skip lovely magician lovely dress a preemption spring color coord princess cute pastel lion's feelings angely pink girl in my dreams fluffy rabbit with my favorite mug sweet night daylight pastel innocently sweet

RIN

dignified of the three court ladies three court ladies blue gentle mad hatter the mad hatter who likes to dance just like the lightning blik's wish blue star dancing on stage special move rice pepper punch princess's bodygaurd stars that spread across the sky my bursting BPM cool jade steam doll

JURI

passion of the three court ladies three court ladies scarlet passionate century positive check cant wait for summer the girl of the sun modern monotone goodnight to flamenco jurius caesar salad jurius caesar salad+ hot blooded teacher's yell passion red a passionate winter eight twinkle i love you juri passion rose key to skincare delicioso night passionate idol activities wandering bodygaurd modernly dressed up straight rose

RISA

little devil tune of the five court musicians flute five court musicians wisteria playful little devil sexy devil the memories from the potatoes radiance of the raspberry chasing the admiration glamor of the lame ribbon admired stage milky devil

NONO

tune of the five court musicians kotsuzumi five court musicians plum little devil naughty little devil cutie devil dont miss out on the potatoes

KOKONE

caramelize a hundred mark smile i love sweets the worlds center winters cheerful dress exciting dolphin clover i finally found retro modern girl first shrine visit here japanese retro flower

NINA

freely strechable stylish monster honey honey bee candy girl will give you

MIYABI

nadeshiko mode miya-beam winters glossy dress shining snowy fields

YUU

supporting you decided high touch original little devil rockin pumpkin deilviery from the bottom of my heart cutie little devil holy love lives on sleepless nights new year sunrise rockingly vivid

YUME

pink step my crowning tv show two bonds marchen santa present thats a cake active girl so many delicious foods

ROLA (laura for those who dont spell her name as rola)

blue step the thing like usual reason for passing lets go shopping confident bat girl the north and southern cross blue roses of courage ice punkish

AKO

melon step yellow santa ring throwing that i won't let go of

MAHIRU

lavender step china heroine memories of our playtime lets it it! onee-chan winter visits orchid of elegance glossy jasmine g*psy dancer

YOZORA

japan heroine star appears romance christmas feminine style even in winter

TSUBASA

checkered activities in the morning

YUZU

canary santa aiming at

KOHARU

tip toeing a little bit refreshing ori*ntal healing wink ethic ballarina beautiful roth flowers

HIME

my suggested tv show chances to shine girly christmas while waiting for santa cosmetic dress fairy awaiting spring

LILY

input of knowledge turning point

KIRARA

sweet pirate kiraran sparkling fairy

[my-lazy-genius]

The Afternoon Still Shines (Even After You’re Gone)

Fandom: Hetalia: Axis Powers

Characters: APH Belarus (Natalya Arlovskaya), APH South Korea (Im Yong Soo), APH Russia (Ivan Braginsky), APH Ukraine (Yekaterina “Kat”).

Pairing: KorBela [South Korea x Belarus]

Summary: In which Natalya learns to love while she can.

Author’s Note: Let me apologize in advance for this. I’m so sorry. I made myself cry writing this and one of my proof readers cried while reading it. Angst ahead.

Natalya doesn’t remember much from the wreck.

She’s in the passenger seat with her earbuds in, only half listening to whatever song comes on her phone’s shuffle. Yekaterina is driving and Ivan is sitting in the back, directly behind the eldest sibling. In her defense, Natalya still isn’t sure how she managed to convince her brother to let her ride in the front seat instead of him. Her siblings are talking about something, though Natalya isn’t sure what. She’s not particularly watching their surroundings go by, lost in thought, though she’s thinking about nothing.

They stop at a red light and Kat leans forward to turn the radio up, pressing the gas as the light turns green. Natalya hears Ivan’s shout, even through her earbuds; she turns her head towards her siblings.

Headlights blind her, and everything goes black.

--

Natalya wakes to the sound of sirens. She’s only vaguely aware of all the sounds around her; her head is pounding and her left leg feels like it’s on fire. Suddenly, she’s aware that she’s upside down, held up only by her seatbelt. Her ears are ringing and the vision in her right eye is still dark; the sensory input of the lights and shouting is overwhelming.

“Yekaterina,” she croaks, “Ivan.”

“She’s awake!”

Natalya doesn’t recognize the voice. It hurts to turn her head. She sees Ivan first, curled in and limp. She only sees the awkward angle his leg is at before the flashing lights make her avert her gaze to Yekaterina. Her sister is still, blood dripping from her face and knuckles scraping the roof of the car, but her eyes are open.

“Kat,” she tries again, louder, struggling with her seatbelt.

Her sister doesn’t answer.

--

The paramedics tow Natalya, kicking and screaming, out of the car.

“Died on impact,” they’re saying.

Natalya wishes she hadn’t overheard. She loses consciousness again when they’re loading her and Ivan into ambulances.

--

When she comes to again, she feels numb, save for the pounding in her head. Her left leg is bound in a cast and she still can’t see out of her right eye. It’s disorienting and makes her feel dizzy, but it’s nothing in comparison to the emptiness in her chest. She clutches at the fabric of the hospital gown she’s in, making sure there’s not really a hole in her chest.

Yekaterina.

Everything hits her again, all at once; the wreck, the aftermath, the paramedics’ words. Her sister is dead. Natalya’s heart wrenches.

It should have been me.

--

Natalya finds out, three days later, that she’s the least injured. A concussion, a broken leg, loss of sight in one eye. Yekaterina died on impact, and Ivan is still in a critical state - broken leg, shattered forearm, fractured ribs, concussion. The nurses tell her that he hasn’t woken up yet - a coma, they’re thinking, but the doctors haven’t confirmed anything yet. A car in the intersection had run the red light and collided with them on Yekaterina and Ivan’s side.

For the first time in a while, Natalya cries.

--

They let her visit Ivan two days later. She refuses the nurse’s help and stubbornly wheels herself there. She wants crutches, but the nurses keep insisting on the wheelchair - at least for now. When she gets there, she only struggles a bit to get the door open and goes in.

Ivan is still and pale, wrapped up in casts and IV cords. There’s an oxygen mask over his mouth and nose, but she’s relieved by the steady rise and fall of his chest. His expression is blank; Natalya reaches forward to touch his face.

“Where have you gone, big brother?”

I need you.

She holds his hand until the nurses come and usher her out.

--

Natalya meets Im Yong Soo in the downstairs cafeteria.

He’s rolling an IV pole beside him, though he doesn’t seem to care much for it, and there’s two nurses on his heels, talking quickly and trying to gesture him one way. He’s adamant for the vending machines, it seems, and the women exchange a worried look.

Natalya’s gaze darts away. She’s still thinking about Ivan and Yekaterina - there hasn’t been any change in Ivan’s state, but Natalya has been neglecting herself and she knows her brother wouldn’t be happy if he woke and she’d starved herself sick again. Hospital food is terrible, but she supposes it’s better than nothing.

She doesn’t exactly meet Yong Soo. It’s more of a collision. He comes up on her right side; she’s still not used to the lack of sight on that side - her hair is draped over her eye lately - and his abrupt, loud voice startles her. She flinches and twists abruptly. The response is a yelp; the boy - who couldn’t be any more than a year older than her - nearly trips over his own IV when he stumbles back, blinking rapidly.

“Holy shi-”

“Language, Yong Soo!” One of the nurses crosses over immediately.

“But her hair!” He whines, as the two escort him away. “It’s so long, I just full on got bit-”

“Yong Soo.”

“-slapped by it!”

Natalya stays still, balancing carefully on her crutch as their voices fade down the hall.

--

A week later, the doctors tell her she’ll be discharged within the month. She’s recovering quickly from her injuries; they can’t do much else. Ivan will stay - there hasn’t been any change in his comatose condition.

She’ll be alone.

And god, she’s terrified.

--

“Hey!”

Natalya doesn’t stop, but somehow, he manages to catch up anyway. Yong Soo falls into step beside her, grinning.

“You’re that girl that bitch-slapped me with your hair, right? Where are you going?”

“My brother’s room,” Natalya replies simply, hoping the answer will make him go away.

It doesn’t. He keeps following her.

“Oh,” he says, grinning sheepishly, “well, uh, sorry about startling you before.”

Natalya whirls awkwardly on her crutch. It irritates her that she can’t maintain the usual effect she has, not while she’s like this. She fixes her good eye on him, narrowed, and raises her free hand to jab one finger at him. He goes cross eyed to look at it, leaning back a tiny bit. Briefly, she notes that he looks healthy - why is he here?

“Listen,” she growls, “you didn’t scare me. Step off.”

He doesn’t follow her after that.

--

That evening, she sits with Ivan and talks to him about everything. She tells him about the wreck, about Yekaterina’s death, about her injuries, about Yong Soo and the nurses and all of the other patients she sees about the hospital. She tells him she’ll be discharged soon, and then she can only see him during visiting hours. She tells him that she doesn’t want to be alone.

Ivan doesn’t answer.

The next day, she sees Yong Soo again and apologizes to him quietly in passing.

--

“I’m Yong Soo.”

Natalya stares at his hand for a long time, and then lifts her gaze back up to his face. He’s wearing a striped beanie over his dark hair; it looks ridiculous with his hospital clothes. He’s gazing back with wide, curious eyes and a slightly tipped head. She doesn’t take his hand, but nods.

“I know.”

Confusion flickers in his gaze. “You-? Oh, oh. The nurses. Right. I almost forgot about that.”

Something rises in the hollowness that’s settled into her chest recently - amusement. “I’m Natalya,” she tells him, and carries on.

--

“Yong Soo,” she asks him, the day before she’s being discharged, when she finds him downstairs again, “what are you in here for?”

He’s wearing a different beanie - a black one with Tokyo Ghoul printed across the band in white lettering and a white puff at the top. Almost absently, he adjusts it on his head and smiles a smile that doesn’t quite touch his eyes.

“Oh, you know, reasons.”

She doesn’t push the subject anymore.

--

The next day, Yong Soo sees her off.

“You’ll come back, right?” He asks, softly.

Natalya pretends not to notice how morose he looks.

--

Natalya visits daily to see Ivan. He’s getting thin; it’s odd to her, seeing him so small and vulnerable, lacking his coat and scarf. They’re hanging up by the door - the hospital staff already got the blood stains out. She wants to take them home, but she knows Ivan will want them when he wakes, so she decides it’s best to just leave it. As always, she tells him about everything he’s missing. She tells him about her discharge, about Yong Soo, about how hard it is to go home to an empty house. She tells him how she misses him and how she misses Yekaterina.

She tells him that she can’t cry anymore, but Ivan still doesn’t answer. His fingers are cold. Natalya watches the slow rise and fall of his chest for half an hour, before she finally leaves the room.

--

Natalya doesn’t see Yong Soo for the next few days. A part of her wonders where he’s gone; she doesn’t know which room he’s in.

--

“I looked for you,” Natalya says, when she finds Yong Soo by the first floor windows.

His eyes are closed, face turned up to the sunlight. She realizes, abruptly, how pale he is. His red beanie is bright against his skin and the bits of dark hair that poke out from beneath it.

“Sorry,” he tells her, “but I’m glad you came back.”

Natalya is suddenly aware that his eyes aren’t black, but a soft, dark brown. It’s fitting.

--

Yong Soo doesn’t tell her where his room is and Natalya doesn’t ask. She finds him sometimes, in the hall or by the windows or in the cafeteria. Lately, he looks tired, withered, but without fail, he always smiles that broad smile of his when he sees her. It makes her heart stir in her chest and she isn’t sure how much she appreciates that

Natalya is getting used to being half blind now, but Yong Soo is still careful not to come up on her blind side. She appreciates it more than she’ll say. He wears different beanies every day and talks about his huge family a lot, but Natalya hasn’t ever seen any of them. She can tell by his words that he cares for them, though. It makes her think of her own family - she’d been close to her siblings.

She’s still mourning Yekaterina - she doesn’t think she’ll ever quite stop - but Yong Soo gives her a sort of light, like her own personal sun. She won’t admit how grateful she is for his presence, but sometimes, he almost seems to understand.

He’s laughing at something, a joke, perhaps, when it happens. His laugh stutters, falters, twists. Suddenly, he’s half hacking, shoulders trembling, hyperventilating. Yong Soo doubles over and slides to one knee, clutching at his chest, at his throat, at his stomach, lips parted and eyes wide. Natalya freezes, and it isn’t until his pale blue beanie slips off that she finally shrieks for a nurse.

She can’t catch his eye before he’s swept away in an overwhelming gaggle of people and voices.

--

She doesn’t see Yong Soo again for a week. Natalya spends the time visiting Ivan and searching the halls so she can return the beanie he’d lost. After a while, she just slides it on.

It’s comforting.

--

“Im Yong Soo,” Natalya tells the woman at the front counter.

The woman looks startled, but looks down at her computer. “Im Yong Soo? He’s in the cancer ward… Room 16B.”

--

“I wish you didn’t have to see me like this,” Yong Soo smiles painfully.

Natalya braces her palm against the door frame. He’s hooked up to more wires than she cares to count and an oxygen mask, but he’s okay, and she’s beyond relieved. She crosses towards him, eyebrows pinched.

“Idiot,” she says, sinking down in the seat near the bed, “I don’t care what you look like.”

--

He’s bedridden until further notice. Natalya sees the way it makes him restless. He spends a long time staring out of the window, twisting his hands, fiddling with his blanket and the multiple woven bracelets around his wrists. She sees it in the way he shifts and twists, talks either too much or too little, sees it in the way his shoulders seem to curl in towards his chest. He’s too free for this body he’s stuck in.

“Yong Soo,” she starts, “why didn’t you tell me before?”

He smiles then, bitterly. “Who knows?”

--

The next time she sees him, Yong Soo is wearing an orange beanie, pulled low over his forehead. He keeps biting his lip and adjusting it, uncomfortably, and fidgeting. Natalya finally questions him about it when she’s leaving.

“I started chemotherapy,” he tells her. “I had to shave my hair.”

She wishes he wouldn’t look so dejected.

The next day she comes with her hair cut to her chin and his blue beanie on, and she almost smiles when Yong Soo lights up like a beacon.

--

For a while, things are as okay as they’re going to get. She spends her time visiting Ivan and Yong Soo. Sometimes, she’s not allowed to see Yong Soo - it leaves her feeling like something’s missing.

She knows she shouldn’t let herself get this close to him. But she also knows it’s far too late.

The next time she sees him, he’s gazing blankly at the wall. His beanie, a black one today, is resting on the side table. It’s the first time she’s seen him without it lately - sure enough, all his hair is shaved off, leaving mildly patchy black spots across his scalp. It isn’t until Natalya clears her throat that he straightens abruptly, twisting, staring at her through wide eyes.

“Nat!” He yelps, reaching for his beanie. “I didn’t know you were coming- I- Ah, shi-”

Natalya slowly sits down on the bed beside him, touching his wrist. “It’s okay, Yong Soo,”

Yong Soo stares at her through wide, sunken eyes. He looks exhausted. Finally, his shoulders drop and he releases the beanie, sliding his hand silently into hers. Natalya does not pull away; instead, she laces her fingers between his.

“Sometimes,” he admits, voice soft, “I think I still remember what it was like. Before… Well, y’know.”

She understands the silent words hanging in the room.

It’s too quiet in here, too dark. The curtains are drawn.

Yong Soo is trembling. She sees him crying before she hears it, watches silent tears roll down his cheeks. How long has he been hurting?

She doesn’t speak, just holds him close and allows him to bury his face into her shoulder. Natalya’s fingers rest at the back of his neck and she turns to rest her forehead against the top of his head, eyes closed.

They stay like that for a long time.

--

Natalya brings him sunflowers the next time she visits. She sets them by the window and turns. He’s just gaping at her, eyes wide and lips parted. He smiles, then, something that finally reaches his eyes.

Natalya, sitting in the chair by his bed again, abruptly realizes how much she’d missed that smile.

“I think I’m in love with you,” Yong Soo tells her, laughing.

Natalya reaches out and traces her fingers over the veins on his thin hand. “Don’t say things like that,” she whispers.

Yong Soo watches her for the rest of her visit, but she doesn’t meet his gaze.

--

The next day, Natalya doesn’t really pause to think it through when she leans down and kisses him. This time, she smiles until she’s out the door at the sight of his gaping expression.

--

Natalya doesn’t like how thin his hands have become.

Yong Soo is asleep when she comes in, but Natalya sits quietly and takes his hand, scared that it will break between her fingers. He stirs, then, very slowly curling his fingers between hers. He can’t squeeze her hand.

His breathing is slow, shuddering, and she can barely hear him over the sound of the oxygen mask.

“There’s more to life than moving, Nat,” he tells her, “so it’s okay to not always be chasing some horizon.”

Her shoulders tremble. Yong Soo falls silent then, and his grip on her hand loosens gradually. He fixes his gaze on some point in the distance, closes his eyes.

She’s not even aware of the flatline of the heart monitor until a nurse comes in and gently ushers her out. Natalya had thought she’d run out of tears.

(Time stops short, and they all crash into it in one graceless dive.)

--

She’s by his bedside when Ivan finally wakes up.

“Big brother,” she whispers, and her voice cracks pitifully.

“Natalya. You cut your hair,” he says, voice quiet from disuse, staring at her through wide eyes.

“I missed you so much,” Natalya tells him.

When she cries again, sobs turning to hiccups and visible shaking, Ivan only pulls her close and hums a lullaby.

[thorne93]

Just My Luck (Part 1)

Prompt: Imagine accidentally walking into the men’s bathroom and seeing this fine specimen (James McAvoy)

Word Count: 1465

Warnings: Language

Notes: Collab fic with my girl @cocosierra94!!! Internal thoughts are in Italics

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ugh. You so did not want to be here. Making appointments, calling people, scheduling things, running errands. All of that was easy. Wearing an expensive dress, high heels, makeup, and a formal updo? No so much.

But Rachel had insisted you come, and since she was your best friend and boss, you had to accompany her tonight at an opening party for some big movie coming out. You were terrible with movies. You watched them, sure, but most of the time, you forgot who played in them and what it was about. Which, sometimes, was good when you worked with celebrities, you didn’t get starstruck as often because you didn’t recognize who they were or what they were from.

You were nursing your second glass of champagne when Rachel bounced up to you.

“I want you to come meet someone,” she said with high energy. There was a reason she was the one in the spotlight and you were just her assistant - your stage presence was lacking.

“Y/n, I’d like you to meet Chris Hemsworth.” She gestured to this god like giant.

“Uh yea, hi.. nice to meet you,” you mutter, fumbling over your words trying not to gawk at how tall this man was.

“haha! Yes, I know I'm tall,” he boasted with a big of a deep laugh, his Australian accent coming out.

“Damn he noticed...” you thought to yourself, almost angrily. Why couldn’t you just be normal? Not awkward, not weird.

“Yeah, sorry, I don't mean to stare it's just I'm not use to people being that much taller than me.” You tried to bring yourself back from this disastrous start, but of course you excel at getting your foot so far down your throat you kick yourself in the bladder.

“If you'll excuse me I have to go to the ladies room.” You slink away hoping to shake that awkward moment off.

“Hopefully that's as bad as it gets tonight, there's no way it could get any worse than that!”

The room was dark,and with dozens of bodies, and swirling lights, and loud music, you finally found the bathroom, but it was a hard feat. You opened the door, hearing a flush, still looking at your feet until you finally looked up, in the too-bright bathroom, and saw a man.

A man!

“Shit, I’m in the men’s bathroom!” you thought, panic gripping its way around your body, as a sweat broke out over you.

“Holy shi--” you started. “I mean. Uh...I’m so sorry. I, uh, I must have the wrong bathroom,” you told the incredibly handsome man in a dashing tux, but you seemed frozen in place.

He laughed as he turned to wash his hands and watch you in the mirror. “Quite the observant one, aren’t we?” His accent threw you for a loop. He was Scottish? You didn’t expect that from him, for some reason.

But you just stood there, frozen, gaping mouth as he reached for paper towels. Why couldn’t you move? What was the matter?

“Or you’re welcome to stay, and continue to stalk the men’s bathroom” he offered with a laugh that made your knees weak and a smile that could bring Aphrodite to her knees.

“No, no! I’m sorry, I’m going!” you said, finally able to move. You pivoted and raced out of the bathroom immediately.

“Well that was quick,” Rachel quipped when she noticed how flushed you looked. “Y/N, hon are you okay?!”

“Not in the slightest!” you admitted , fanning yourself hoping that it would extinguish the heating anxiety in your body.

“Spit it out, girl, what happened?!?” She looked at you with concerned eyes searching for the smallest hint of an answer.

I walked into the men's bathroom..” You confessed hanging your head in defeat.

“REALLY, Y/N! THAT'S IT?! I was worried some creep tried to make a move on you or something!” She playfully smacked you on the shoulder.

“There was a creep, alright, but it wasn’t them,” you told her sheepishly.

“Huh?” she inquired.

“Well, there was a guy in there! A really hot Scottish guy who probably thinks I’m a creeper or something now.” You felt like drowning your humiliation in the champagne waterfall.

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

The next day, you woke up groggy, probably due to consuming about six champagnes. But you were happy to put last night’s embarrassment in the past. You showed up to work a little late, and that’s when Rachel asked you to get her interview questions printed out, water chilled, and asked you to go out for coffee for her and her interviewee.

“Sure, what does he want?” you asked. You knew his name was James, from coordinating with his agent over two weeks ago, but you had forgotten his last name.

“Just bring it back black with sugar and cream on the side,” she told you as she went to fluff her full, brunette hair with lowlights. She looked great in tight jeans, white shirt, blue thin scarf, and a black leather jacket.

“Aye, aye, cap’n,” you said as you saluted and ran out the door.

You ran to the coffee shop that was a block away, impatiently waited for four coffees for you, Rachel, the celeb, and their agent. You grabbed the coffees, extra sugar and cream and stirrers, and hurried back to the office. You jogged into the interview room where cameras, lights, a giant movie banner, chairs, and a snacks table were set up.

“I’m sorry it took so long, Ra--”

Then you saw him. The same Scottish man you accidentally peeped on in the bathroom last night. You almost dropped the coffees. You could even feel your grip slipping as the blood left your face, until you finally snapped back to reality.

Rachel had turned to you by now, grinning widely.

“Oh, Y/N, perfect, I want you to meet our star for the day,” she said with that overly bubbly attitude of hers. “This is James McAvoy,” she introduced as his eyes came up to yours. He was standing off camera, getting makeup put on.

“So much for putting last night behind me,” you thought with chagrin.

“Well if it isn't my favorite peeping tom!” he said with that oh so familiar knee buckling chuckle.

“Kill me now,” you prayed internally, wishing you could just melt into the floor, or vanish into thin air.

Rachel looked at him, a little lost. Not even a second later it clicked, “Wait! This is the hot Scottish guy from the bathroom?!” Her eyes grew wide, amusement flooded her voice. You knew she would NEVER let you live this one down.

“Oh, so you talked about me? Not enough you had to spy on me in the bathroom, you told your boss?” He quirked an eyebrow up at you and you just prayed a freak accident would happen. Lightening? Spontaneous combustion? Meteor shower? Anything?!

“I...uh…”

“Why didn’t you tell me you ran into James?” Rachel asked. “I should’ve known you were talking about him when you said ‘hot’ and ‘Scottish’,” she teased.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath.

“Uh...Rachel, you’re coffee will get cold,” you tried. You wanted to escape this hell and that’s all you could come up with - cold coffee. You didn’t care though, you just wanted this to end.

“Haha yea she was worried you were gonna think she was some sort of creeper!” She completely ignored your weak attempt to put this moment behind you. “But that's enough torture for now, down to business!” Rachel was more of a big sister than your best friend, she knew when to end your suffering just as well as she knew how to prolong it.

As the interview slowly etched by, you couldn't help squirming under the circumstances. What are the odds that this man, the same man you embarrassed yourself in front of, would end up being the center of your tasks today? You pulled yourself out of your thoughts just long enough to notice him quickly glance your way giving you a small smirk and an almost unnoticeable wink.

You rolled your eyes.

“This is gonna be a looooong day,” you thought to yourself.

How could you even do your job now that you knew he was your sole priority? Your main job was to make sure Rachel and her guest were comfortable. Now you had to ask him if he wanted water, coffee, tea, soda, snacks, towel, fan...And you can’t just be impolite and ask something vague like, “Do you need anything?” No, you had to make sure he was over the moon happy with the service or he could rip his interview and cost your company a lot of money. Sometimes it was rough working for an entertainment magazine….

[tas-ss7a]

TOP 5 Asians, according to Comrade of TAS

You know I just had to put a Jesus meme in here. ESPECIALLY with Will Smithy in it.

Man it’s been some time since lil’ communistrade of TAS did one of these. It is good to be back. Let’s get right.... into the news blog post.

I’m sorry for anybody who’s reading this blog post but I require memes as my personal diet that also consists of vegan and gluten-free ice cubes.

Number 5...

is Qin Shi Huangdi. Technically the first emperor to unite China as a whole. Before that, there were random dynasties sprouting all over China and Qin decided,

“You know what Jim, I feel like all these dynasties are not really together you know. Man, I wish they could be, like a family or so.”

And so henceforth, China was united. There was probably some periods where they weren’t.. but still, they are still today. If there was no Qin Shi Huangdi, there wouldn’t be the Wall of China because nobody wouldn’t think of it. If there wasn’t Qin Shi Huangdi, maybe Vietnam will get a piece of China (lol). If Qin Shi Huangdi was still a sperm in his daddy’s balls, then the great Xi Jinping wouldn’t exist.

There’s also one more thing about this man Qin, is that he thought that immortality was a thing and he wanted to get it. That’s one of the reasons he is put so low on this list but to be fair, the things he did outweighs the thing that makes him look like a fool.

Number 4 is..

you guessed it, GANDHIENGHIS KHAN. Not Gandhi. Never Gandhi.

I assume you know who GENGHIS KHAN is (you gotta emphasize on that GENGHIS KHAN) but here’s a little something to expand my answer show my effort onto this blog post.

Genghis Khan was the leader of the Mongol empire, which was the largest empire ever, at least connected empire. This bad boy is 9.15 million square miles large. Let’s just take the average size of an American house, 2600 feet -> 0.49~* square miles. Now do 9.15 million miles divided by 0.49 miles and you get a nice little 18,673,469 houses in total. That is a lot of houses. Now for all you metric users, 0.49 square miles is approximately 788.6~** meters.

*estimation

**same with above

To continue, GK also practiced something along the lines of cheap democracy

I mean meritocracy (please don’t lower my grades comrade Matt it’s 9:21 and I usually sleep at 8). It’s an excellent system, especially for a person who’s from the time where they treat women like *4-letter swear word that will make your Grandma cry*. 

Lastly he practiced religious tolerance. This was especially great when most of the world practiced religions like Christianity, Islam, and Hinduism. I mean, I can just imagine places where they don’t tolerate other religions and they try to put the practitioners’ head on stakes.

Let’s leave Khan for now. We have to move on to..

number 3.

AND HIS NAME IS

No.. not him. It’s another guy. Don’t know what his name is. Let me just check my files.. hold on a sec.

“STALIN!”

“YA.”

“Do you have the 3rd person’s files?”

“YA.”

“Okay. Can you bring it to me?”

“YA. In America, Stalin brings paper to Ricky. In Motherland, Ricky brings paper to-”

“Stalin please.”

“YA.”

Ahh, here we go. So that was just my fella and me just having some bro time together. After all, we’re in Motherland.

So number 3 is..

you guessed it, again, Siddharta Gautama, otherwise known as Buddha. Everyone’s homie, I guess. Buddha is the founder of one of the largest religions in the world, Buddhism. The main idea behind it is just basically to me is to have peace with the world and gain enlightenment so you can basically go to Buddhaland and not have to suffer anymore. 

The Buddha also technically opened up the minds of 488 -> 535 million people. That’s around 10% of the population so that’s quite a lot. And on that note, I’ll stop writing down “that’s” all the time and let’s move on to the 2nd most significant Asian that ever was and probably will ever be. Unless someone gets a revelation from like a god in the sky who tells them to kill all white privileged men and enslave Ricky to the depths of Tartarus.

“AHH.”

“What in the name of the Motherland Ricky.”

“Oh, Stalin, I thought you were with the others.”

“Who?”

“Never mind.”

SO, the 2nd person is..

Muhammad Ali.

“It’s just Muhammad.”

“Stalin, please leave.”

I just had to leave this man who created a religion of peace and was a nice and polite man a nice meme. With his daughter, I MEAN wife with him in this meme. 

Anyways, Muhammad was this prophet had a revelation where he saw Gabriel the Angel and then I think Gabe showed him de wae.

I’m sorry for the dead meme. I just enjoy it too much. Muhammad is the founder of the 2nd largest religion in the world. That is of Islam and there is around 1.5 billion Muslims in the world now. That is around 22% of the population, and is quite large considering how Buddhists only make up 10% of the population of the world.

10 pm has passed so I’m going to rush this. Quality may decrease or increase slightly. You might encounter some typos so be awar.

“Ricky.”

“WHAT?”

“You didn’t write aware correctly.”

Okay, fine.

*keyboard clicks*

“Ta-da. Okay, go away now.”

Alright ladies and privileged males, the last person is incoming and he is going to kick arse. Well, not really because he’s- Jesus Christ tHERE’S a sPIDER iN mY rOOM.

Oh wait never mind. He is actually Jesus.

Holy shit. It’s my man. Jesus Christ. I’m sorry for swearing. I’ll just show myself out of the room.

“Ricky where are you going?”

“...”

“Ricky answer me.”

“...”

Jesus is the founder of Christianity, the single largest religion in the entire world. There is a total of 2.2 billion people who identify as Christian and nearly a third of the world, which is 31% is Christian. These statistics trumps (I need to go to sleep) the others with there measly 10% and 22%. 

AND, his followers wrote a book called the BIble and has been printed possibly more than 5 billion times. Which is pretty nice considered how 1 person can own two bibles at the same time. Total dedication.

Alright ladies and privileged white-skinned, I guess it’s time for me to check out because I’m running on a mix of dank memes and gluten-free ice cubes. And salty Stalins. But who cares, because at least I finished something I started, and that’s good. Now let’s move on to something else in the future, something where I can write more B.S. about white males and Stalin. On that note,

“Stalin say goodbye.”

“Never. You didn’t reply to me.”

“Bro.”

-Comrade of TAS

[celestialceci]

camp kwami: chapter 1

ok. here it is. the @pepper-bottom summer camp au. it's here. or, if you prefer, it's on ao3 and ff.net  also i wanna go back in time and yell at myself bc i wrote this like a month ago and now looking back there’s so many mistakes holy shit COOL ENJOY IT!!!! next chapter ->

Summer break is approaching, and Adrien finally gets to attend the camp he's wanted to for so long. Marinette has attended the camp since she was old enough to go, and considers it her second home. They're both ready for a summer of adventures at Camp Kwami, but neither of them expected adventures quite like this.

long road

Adrien’s computer mouse clicked on the familiar bookmark, and he sighed wistfully as the webpage loaded fully. There was nothing new; there hadn’t been for the past few months. He knew every tab by heart, every detail he could glean from the photographs and entries. Photos on the homepage faded into one another automatically. Soon his favorite appeared: two girls, one with wild rusty red hair and the other with dark bluish pigtails were locked in a tight embrace, covered in mud and paint smeared on their arms, grinning into the camera lens like there was no tomorrow. Adrien hovered over it with his mouse so the photo wouldn't change. He sighed again. They looked so happy, and the dark haired girl’s smile was absolutely radiant.

Though the website had many photos from various years, he had managed to find this girl in more than just this one. In one she is helping a younger child with a yarn craft, and in another from many years ago she’s watching an older girl cook over a campfire. Adrien could tell it was the girl, even in the old photo, by her look of utter happiness from being in the woods.

Deciding he didn't want to go through any more heartache tonight, Adrien closed the browser and put his many monitors to sleep, only to find himself on his phone a few minutes later looking through the tag on Instagram.

Camp Kwami. A tiny, secluded, nature-based co-ed summer camp in Southern France, owned and operated by the same family since 1904. The kids who went absolutely loved it, even making posts in the dead of winter about how much they missed the camp and all their friends. Adrien felt he knew enough about it to explain every minute detail to anyone who asked, despite never having set foot on the property before. Adrien’s mom had gone when she was a kid, and had wanted for Adrien to go, too. He could still remember her stories of late nights and wilderness adventures that she would tell him when he was younger. But with his mother now gone, his father would always shut down Adrien’s attempts to bring it up. Without success, Adrien had tried to convince Gabriel to let him go for the past four years. Now Adrien was the age where he would have to be staff if he went, and he was upset he’d missed out on his opportunities as a camper. This could have been his chance to make lifelong friends and memories like his mom and be a real kid. But noo, his dad had him cooped up at home like a princess in a castle, only making him more desperate to get free.

Adrien locked his phone, and tossed it onto the floor, planting his face in his pillow. He felt like crying. Was it possible to be homesick for place you’d never even been to?

“Father, can I ask you something?” Adrien began tentatively. “About my summer schedule?”

Gabriel didn't look up from the tablet that had a permanent residence next to his dinner place. “What is it, Adrien?”

“Applications for camp are due in a month, and I was having a discussion with Natalie today and-”

Adrien’s father let out a sharp breath, moving his cold eyes from his device to meet his son’s gaze. “Adrien, we have this discussion at least twice a year. My opinion has not changed. You are far too busy to be wasting time away from home when you can be here working.”

Gabriel’s clipped tone never failed to send a piercing jab through Adrien, but he persisted. “I know, I remember. But I was speaking with Natalie about my summer schedule, and you haven't planned any modeling projects for me past May, besides the fall collection-”

“I said, no,” Gabriel said with a definity that would usually end such a discussion.

“But Father! It’s… it’s something mom wanted for me.”

The forkful of steak that was headed for his dad’s mouth stopped midair, but his gaze didn't shift from the plate. Adrien felt himself break out in a cold sweat. “She- she wanted me to go. And I want to go,” Adrien pleaded. “Even Natalie agreed maybe a few months of being outdoors would be good for me so I could finally makesomefriendsorsomething-”

For the third time, Adrien was cut off. This time, not by words, but by his father tossing his napkin on the table and getting up from his chair. “The decision for you to go away this summer is still mine to make. You may be 16, but you are still within my care.” With that, he strode from the room, tablet in hand, leaving a defeated Adrien to pick at his asparagus and mourn another summer lost.

Back in his room, Adrien lay curled up on his couch with his phone and hoodie. The Camp Kwami photo gallery was organized by year. Adrien could scroll back to the 80’s and look through the scans of the old film photos. Only one featured his mother, though: she was standing in front of the fire place in what Adrien knew as the main lodge with three other girls, playing an acoustic guitar with lots of little patterns drawn on it as they sang together. Adrien gazed at the photo as he held back more tears. He wanted to go so badly. So, so badly. To be able to go to a place he knew his mom loved with all her heart would make him so happy. It was the only tangible connection he could have with her now, and his father was the one person standing in the way of that.

Three quick knocks sounded on his door. Natalie. Adrien ignored her, rolling over on his couch and pulling the hood up on his jacket.

“Adrien? Open up. Your father wants to speak with you in his office.” Natalie said.

Silence.

“Adrien, please be reasonable. I think you will want to hear what he has to say.”

Adrien opened his eyes and sat up to look at the closed door before flopping back down on the couch “I doubt it!” he called, his voice cracking slightly.

He heard the jangle of keys and his lock clicked open. Damn Natalie and her master key. Couldn't she just let a boy wallow in his sorrow in peace? He yanked on the strings of the hood, leaving only his nose poking out. He heard Natalie walk in and perch on the coffee table in front of the couch. They sat in silence for a moment. Natalie loosened his hood so she could see his face, but Adrien kept his eyes shut.

“I promise you, he's not going to chew you out for asking a fourth year in a row.” Natalie stated.

Adrien shrugged. “So? He’s still going to say no.”

“You don't know that. Please just go see him.” She rested her hand on his shoulder for a moment before getting up and walking out. Adrien opened his eyes, feeling how puffy they were despite him not actually crying. He pulled out his phone and looked at the picture of his mom and her guitar one more time before getting up and trudging to his father’s study on the other side of the house.

Adrien pushed off his hood before rapping his knuckles on the slightly open door.

“Come in.”

Adrien pushed the door the rest of the way open and walked up to the desk, head down, not bothering to take a seat. “You wanted to see me.”

Gabriel turned his gaze from his computer monitor and looked at his son. “I discussed it with Natalie, and she has made a very convincing case. I see here that children above 15 are trained to be staff,” he motioned to the computer as he spoke. “We’ll have to account for the extra training week they have at the end of May. I can always find a replacement for you for the fall collection modeling we usually have in the summer. Bring me anything that needs a signature, and you have time on Thursday to go out and buy things you might need. I doubt you’ll be wanting to wear designer clothes in the forest. Adrien, are you listening?”

Adrien’s mouth hung slack. “I… I can go?”

“Yes, that is what I am implying.”

“W-Wait, for how long?”

Gabriel only shrugged. “You’re in charge of filling out the paperwork and getting anything you need. I am simply granting you permission and… supporting you monetarily.”

Adrien’s whole face lit up. “Could… could I go the whole summer?”

“If you would like to.”

WOULD I LIKE TO? Adrien thought. Yes! Yes! YES! “Thank you, father! I’ll do it right away.” He turned and ran from the room, beyond excited.

Gabriel watched him leave, sitting back in his chair. He turned to look at the portrait above the fireplace of his wife. “It’s what she would have wanted,” he breathed.

Back in his room, Adrien flew into his desk chair, fumbling with the mouse as he opened the website. He printed a few copies of the forms and the packing list, uncapped a pen and got to work.

Adrien walked in the house and went straight into the security room and to Natalie’s desk. She wasn’t there, so he pushed the button for the mail slot. The mechanical slot opened, revealing it was empty. He sighed. Adrien knew mail from Clermont-Ferrand to Paris took a few days, especially since it was all the way in the forest, but it had been almost a week with no reply about his acceptance to the staff at Camp Kwami. Hopefully it hadn’t gotten lost in the mail. He climbed the stairs to his room and threw his fencing bag down, ready for a badly needed shower.

There it was. A generic white envelope with a simple stamp of a ladybug with cat ears and whiskers next to the return address. Adrien spies his name in neat, rounded print in the middle above his own address.

Snatching the envelope off of his desk, Adrien tears open the top and skims the single paper inside.

Adrien Agreste,

We are happy to inform you that you have been admitted to serve on the Camp Kwami summer staff for all sessions! We are all  looking forward to having you on our team this year.  Only 3 months until summer!

See you in the valley!

Tikki

Camp Kwami

 Adrien actually let out a whoop. Finally! The wait had been worth it, and now he was bursting with joy. He wanted to open his windows and yell to all of Paris that he was going to be free for the first time in his life. Instead, he grabbed his phone to call the one person who would listen.

 “Hello?”

 “Chloe! It’s me!”

 “Adrikins!!! I was wondering when you would return my calls!”

 “Oh, yeah. Sorry about that. Listen! I’ve got great news, Chlo!”

 “What’s that? You have free time tonight for us to go to the ballet?”

 “Actually, I might. I’ll text you about details for that later. You know the summer camp I’ve been trying to get Father to let me go to for the past few years?”

 “That old place down in Clermont-Ferrand?”

 “Yeah, that one exactly!”

 “So? What about it?”

 “You gotta guess, Chlo.”

 “If I guess, you have to promise to not stand me up this time for the ballet.”

 “Fine. JUST GUESS.”

 “Uh… Gab finally relented?”

 “YEAH! I’M GOING THIS SUMMER! CAN YOU BELIEVE IT, CHLOE?!? HE ACTUALLY SAID YES!”

 “Fascinating, Adrien. You won’t be gone for long right? Maybe a few days?”

 “Hell no! I’m gonna be gone the whole summer!”

 “THE WHOLE SUMMER?! Wh-what?”

 “Relax, Chloe, you’ll live without me for a couple months.”

 “Oh, my god. I can’t believe this.”

 “Me neither. Anyway, I just wanted to call and tell you since you would be like, the only person who would actually understand. I gotta go now. Maybe see you later?”

 “I’d better! So… what is this camp?”

 “Camp Kwami. My mom went there?”

 “Camp Kwami… hm. Okay, talk to you later Adrikins!!! Text me about toni-”

 Adrien hung up the phone. He didn’t really want to go anywhere with Chloe right now, but maybe he would just to keep her at bay for another couple of weeks. Especially considering the great mood he was in.

[fairlycastiel]

I decided to take notes during Captain America the Winter Soldier when I was drunk last night and here was the outcome

•SHES PICKING UP A FOSSIL •plane •I know that's a bad guy but he's on the plane •NATASHA •Braxton and Danielle need to pay attention •that fucking sweet ass stealth suit •omg he wasn't hw wearring parachute •loud trumpet music •holy shit he just threw people off the ship •angry cellos •STABBY HAND •I still don't fucking understand french? •holy shit Natasha is a badass ••holy shit nice ass Natasha •shield disc throwing •cap almost got his nuts annihilated by angry French dickbah •French man does gymnastics??? •that fucking stealth suit tho can we talk about that? •explodey boom boom •mr eyepatch talking about private insight....how ironic.....sight? Haha •cap is always right •look at that motorcycle dayum •oh shit Bucky feels •I'm that kid staring at cap in the museum •HOWLING COMMANDO •fuck u Peggy Steve is gay for Bucky •DIMENSIA •mr sandman....bring me a dream •I love falcons little group what a black guy •WINDOW INTEFITRY that car is a fucking trooper Jesus take the fickin wheel WHATS NOT DAMAGED Apaarentllt air conditioning is fully operational Blurb Can the police stop shooting nick fury god damn ITS THE WINTER FUKING SOLDIER I would fuck the winter soldier Fuck u nurse from down the hall NICK FURY WAS SHOT HOLY SHIT THE WINTER SOLDIER HAS CAUGHT THE SHIELD 😹 AND THEN THREW IT HOLY SHIT I would fuck the winter soldier Violin notes Don't call me disgusting for eating gum Information of the free world in the vending machine??? •why does Neal look like Mycroft Holmes (the outfit) Cladssifd intelligences You're disgusting DONT TRUST ANYONE Elevator fighting turns me on Cap just jumped out of the fucking elevator? Super jumping out of stuff Super frisbee thrower Cap is a fugitive ? THE GUM IS FONE Natasha has it what a bitch Redheaded snake 🐍 Bye bye bikinis winter solider HE HAS THE SAME GLASSES HOLT SHIT his name was Erin Apple Store LITTLE STEVE Best captain America movie because of the stealth suit POSSESSED TELEVISION THE BAD GUYS AGHJ PUCH THE SCREEN CAP Zolos algorithm? HELICPOTERS ?bdhe Shoe print Call in assets PEW PEW HYE BYE MAID CAPS SHOULDERS DEAn and cas are banging •SHOULD T VE A LROBLEM Because that's a nice tie *there was a sniper rifle laser on it* Throw him off the roof Falcon is so cool I would fuck falcon wings STEVEN STRANGE BENEDICT CUMBERBATCH SHERLOXK I WOUKD ALSO FUCK HIM •fanfiction •AP fanfiction (rejected AP class) WINTER SOLIDER SHOOTING FRAMDES Metal hand Bye bye steering wheel Wiener soldier -braxton Luscious winter soldier hair Shoot him In the eye Bucky Barnes is the winter soldier but don't tell Braxton Pew pew Look at winter soldiers hair (10/10 would bang) CHOKE THE WINTEE SOLDIER WITH DENTAL FLOSS BONG • Angry violins EEEEHHHHH HOLY SHIT THE WINTER SOLDIER IS BUCKY? Lmao I already knew that but Braxton didn't NICK FURRY ISNT DEAD BUCKY NO FUCK U HYDRA fist of hydra THE MAN ON THE BRIDGE BUT I KNEW HIM M GAAAAAYYYYYYY 3,000 feet?!?'bv 3 carriers Garridebs •robin from HIMYM 🐡wehm met hawrd it's a flash back IM WITH U TILL THE EMD OF THE LINE PAL GAAAAAAYYYY •"oh man I am so fired" Angry trumpets Captain America is a pure and wholesome character STEVEO RORGERS I WOULD FUCK HIS SPEECHS itsnot Neal his name is Alexanderu nincompoop •Braxton is sitting up :') CAPTAINS ORDERS DEPENDS O WBERE YOURE STANDING angry trumpets •CLOSE THE BIG DOORS •instense •if they're shooting at u they're bad lmao cap what a guy Falcon found those bad guys he was talking about He' it dead yet •Natasha is a badass •falcon is flybirb Birb Cap is pro at frisbee ARE YOU? angry cellos return Falcon took a detour DIVEBOOMB BY FALCO winter soldier there a bomb boom Winter soldier hairs looks pretty Echo?!?!,! BOTH EYES OPEN• •air resistance and winter soldeir Falcon is grounded Dude had wing ripped off Slidey moves off the ship •cap just got frisbeed •DONT HURRT BUCKT •winter soldier is the best movie Cap just got shot in that fine ass Bucky wants to tap that ass Sherlock is gay for jogn watson •nick fury shot Alexander not Neal The ships are falling the sky chiken litttle 41st floor!!!!!!!! Northwest corner!!!! Holy shit falcon Landed on the helicopter YOU KNOW ME holy shis this scene is so gayBUCKY oh my god IM WITH U TILL THE END OF THE LNE *sad piano HE OULLED STEVE FROM THE RIVER I'm depressed Reminds me of supernatural goodbye stranger (nartive parrallells) Braxton DOES NOT understand thsi reference ON UR LEFT Ick fury burns his eyepatch (argh?) Bucky is gay 4 Steve Instense cellos And trumpets STEVE IS GONNA GO FIND BUCKY DONT PULL ON THAT THREAD STEVE FIND YOUR GAY LOVER IGH I NEED SOEMRINF GAY IN MY LIFE YEET 10/10 this movie is amazing Fin