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#also might be setting off a bomb by putting this in the main tag but take it up with togashi!! it's not my fault i see his vision
vivi-scera ¡ 8 months
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"Five years ago, were you the leader when the Troupe slaughtered the Kurta of the Scarlet Eyes?"
1.Lifecycle of the Mole-Woman, Kim Fu. 2. @ceonnibal, twitter. 3. A Letter to Maria Casares, Albert Camus. 4 & 5. @WAGO_00, twitter. 6. [you fit into me], Margaret Atwood. 7 & 13. @qingqiye, twitter. 8. Jawab al-Kalfi, Ibn al-Qayyim. 9. @kishibe. 10. The Erl-King, Angela Carter. 11. @se_5eeeee, twitter. 12. For Girls Who Aren't Interesting in Being Easy on the Eyes, Fabiola 14. Bad and Beautiful, Beau Taplin. 15. @ChibuNyam, twitter. 16. Heart to Heart, Mer_Curia (me!!)
186 notes ¡ View notes
writtenontheport ¡ 9 months
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Walk Me Home?
pt. 2: Tomorrow (pt. 1) (pt. 3) (pt. 4)
George Karim x (gn) Reader
Warnings/Tags: Meet cute (in part 1), getting to know each other, falling in love walking through gloomy London, George Karim is a silly guy, but he’s one of the best silly guys ever, Nerd Reader, No angst, light swearing, Lockwood and co friendships, I might be forgetting some tags whoops, mention of a creep creeping around the reader from the previous part, George’s recklessness is inspired by Lucy and Lockwood
Notes: I adore George, really, especially in the tv adaptation. I felt like I needed to say that, lovely guy. Forgot to add until now, there will be a part 3! This little series has become a comfort to me and I would love to write out their story
Summary: George takes you up on your offer to meet again, and after waking up late he finds it to have been a wonderful experience. Lucy and Lockwood begin trading details (mostly because George refuses to tell them about all the reckless things he’s been starting to do).
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Typically, for junior agents, waking up in the early morning was as impossible as being able to clock out before sundown. Their line of work exposed them not only to the dangers of terrifying ghosts, the possible paralysis, and the high odds of death, but also to the detriment that is being made a night-owl in a world where most of society lives and breathes in the day. For those in Lockwood and co. this might mean missing out on the latest shipment of salt bombs and flares; or even missing out on a nice outing to the library with a would-be friend.
The latter of which, George happens to be doing right now.
“George!” Lucy yelps as she jumps to the wall of the main hall, George running past her. He yells a muffled apology through whatever’s sticking out his mouth and runs up the stairs.
“Everything alright?” Lockwood calls, popping his head out the kitchen. His cheeks are stuffed full of something he’s barely able to speak through.
“Yeah, fine. I don’t know about George though, is he alright?” She asks, corralling them both into the kitchen. The dining table’s all set, with a center serve bowl in the middle filling the air with something appetizing and delicious. She quickly settles down and helps herself to a good serving, seeing as George’s already put his plate away and Lockwood’s halfway through his.
“He’s meeting up with someone in the library, kept saying his alarm didn’t go off and ran about in a panic.” He swallows with a satisfied hum as a boyish smile paints his face. “Still made a banging breakfast though, that George.”
Lucy raises a brow at him, but chuckles in amusement. From somewhere above, they can hear George stomping about. It doesn’t worry Lucy, because he’s not stomping about in the way he does when he’s really panicked, so neither she nor Lockwood can step in or they might just make it worse by getting in the way. Really, Lockwood himself would go upstairs to calm George down if he’d made himself mad with worry.
“Is this the one he owes new shoes?” Lucy asks, putting down her spoon gently and throwing Lockwood a look. It’s now that she recalls what George had told her yesterday just as he walked in.
“He owes someone new shoes?”
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At half past ten, George finally makes it to the library. He’s not dressed up or put together more than usual, in jeans, a loose t-shirt he’d likely borrowed from someone, and his windbreaker jacket. A messenger bag hangs off him, and tucked under his other arm are the books he’d taken out yesterday. Really, he looks like he fits right in with the ghouls and the haunts lurking about the library this early; scholars with little to no sleep and others simply looking for a place to do just that. He spots you easily after making his way to where he met you yesterday.
You’re just… sitting there, really, but he’s suddenly overtaken by nerves. It’s not the kind of nerves you might get from being ghost-locked, where you’re thrown into a torpor and left to die, but it’s not much easier to deal with. You’re sitting there looking the epitome of an obsessive scholar, hunched over a book and a notepad to the side, and he can’t help but feel like he wanted to be there right by you and just read every line and curve of your face. It’s embarrassing, really, but late to regret anything, as you look up and beam at him and suddenly the nerves are all gone.
“Come on over, George! Don’t just hang about!” You greeted just as he ambled. You had a pen in one hand hovering over a notepad while the other was carefully pressing a book open; truly caught between the lines and the pages, but still beaming at him so assuredly.
“You remembered where we sat,” he said, not really asking. Carefully settling himself down, he all but mirrored you in the way he was set up, eyeing your grin through his lashes.
Then you said, so softly he felt his heart might burst, “Of course I did, meeting you left quite the lasting impression, George.”
He swallows harshly, ducking his head into his book. “You’re not bad yourself.”
You both fall into a wordless, comfortable silence filled with only the distant sounds of the library that don’t reach. Every so often, you’d wordlessly trade a pen or share a note; make him smile or chuckle at a drawing you’d pass over. It reminded him of the thinking cloth back home, and somehow he felt like you’d fit right in with them.
Lucy and Lockwood would like you right away, even if they were skeptical and cautious people, because of your cunning wit and enchanting grin. That— He shakes the thought out of his head and glances back up at you. When your eyes meet, you do nothing but grin, and his heart keeps beating loudly in his ears.
Just as you’re both packing up to leave, he catches you looking over your shoulder with your eyes darting the whole room. He keeps packing, but once you’re both out the door, he simply asks, “That dick still bothering you?”
Sheepishly, you say, “Not as much, but… yeah.”
He decides something then, just as reckless as yesterday when he offers, “Want me to walk home with you?”
You grin, and he doesn’t think he could ever tire of the sight.
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On the trip home, George is walking with you again even though where you live isn’t that close to Portland Row at all. He’d made an excuse about keeping you out of trouble, and you smiled so wide he felt that he had made the best decision of the day. Aside from keeping Lucy and Lockwood about his recklessness, anyways.
It’s easy conversation between the two of you, even when you put your research aside. George meant it when he told Lockwood and Lucy once that the Problem had defined their whole lives, that it loomed over them with a pressing hand. It loomed still, really. Curfew came up more than once, and you and George each had a go at your sharing your theories on the Problem. He talked himself near tired on the topic of ghost cults and their stupidity, and you brought up incident after incident in the long list of hauntings in London.
Somewhere along the line though, talk about Curfew and Visitors drifted into softer, warmer topics about the silliest things there were; what were his favourite colours? What were yours? If you could only eat one kind of cuisine for the rest of your life, what would it be? Those sorts of questions; the sort of questions you’d ask in another world where things aren’t so wrong.
George doesn’t know what to make of the fact that you bring this out of him, that something about you makes him wonder about a better world where the Problem hadn’t become the Problem. Along the streets of gloomy London with a timer ticking away elsewhere, George feels like he can already imagine a world where there wasn’t a single worry about the Visitors. All because he had you to ramble along with.
Soon you’d stumbled on the topic of your lives at home, what it was like for both of you where you lived. George found himself telling you all of the things he’d never thought about telling anyone before: how it endeared him when Lucy would stop by his room on hard days just to check up on him and was always ready in case he just needed someone who could listen, or how Lockwood sometimes tries to cook some of George’s favourite dishes just to return the favour even though he’s rubbish in the kitchen and couldn’t cook an egg to save his life.
“They sound lovely,” You say kindly, watching the light of warmth dance in his eyes. They don’t dim even when he turns to you, and you swear your heart stops when you see his lips curve into a gorgeous smile.
“They are. Annoying, but, I wouldn’t want to work anywhere else,” if I even could, he adds wordlessly. He really wouldn’t be able to tolerate anyone else but them… and maybe you. He turns away from you just as your house comes into view, the lights peeking like the sun passing the horizon at dawn. It makes him think about home at Portland Row.
You take a few steps up to the door, but turn back before you click it open. George’s eyes lock on yours, and though the breeze is cold hanging in the air, you feel your heart pounding against your ribs and your blood rushes faster. George doesn’t look away. You fumble for words, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, and George waits patiently.
“Would you like to meet up again? Whenever you can?” You settle on instead, feeling the breath leave you.
He watches you in the wind, framed by the threshold of your doorway. “Yeah, I’d love to. Tomorrow?”
You feel giddy again, just like last time as you say goodbye. When the door closes and George is out of sight, you give yourself a little cheer. Unbeknownst to you, George is smiling on the way home.
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“George? Home early again?” Lucy greets him with a smile, plucking his books out from under his arm to help him. Lockwood’s behind her, the picture of mischief, and he suddenly knows where this is going.
“I didn’t go on a date,” he says quickly, but it just makes the two grin wider, “I just went to the library to catch up on some reading. It’s too loud at home with you two.”
“And it wasn’t loud with this… mystery person, George?” Lockwood singsongs, the absolute prick. George could just about swat him, but he feels too lazy. Luckily Lucy does it for him, and sends Lockwood a scolding look that has him reeling it in.
“Did you have fun at least, George?” Lucy asks instead, and Lockwood stops pouting when George gives a terse nod.
He runs a hand over one of the notes you’d stuck on his book, and simply says, “I’m going back early tomorrow.”
Lucy starts teasing him then too, and Lockwood takes it as a chance to do the same.
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A/N: I had a very emotionally taxing conversation with my mother yesterday and had to delay this and any other piece’s posting until I could have the time and energy to edit it (which is today, the day after). Writing for George comes easiest to me, but it’s because it’s so easy to imagine the scene in my head that it’s rather hard to be descriptive without going off on a tangent. So, easiest and hardest to write for. Still love him dearly though.
100 notes ¡ View notes
eiirisworkshop ¡ 3 years
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The Fanfic Author's Guide to Metatext
(As Used on Ao3) by Eiiri
Also available as a PDF here. This thing is 13,000 words.  The PDF is recommended.
Intro: What is Metatext?
Metatext is everything we fanfic authors post along with our story that is not the story itself: title, tags, summary, author's notes, even the rating.
It is how we communicate to potential readers what they're signing themselves up for if they choose to read our story, how we let them make informed decisions regarding which fics they want to read, how we get their interest and, frequently, how they find our story in the first place. A lot of metatext acts as a consent mechanism for readers, it's the informed part of informed consent.
Since most of us who write fanfic also read it, we understand how important this is! But, for the most part, no one ever teaches us how to use metatext; we have to pick it up by osmosis. That makes it hard to learn how to use it well, we all suck at it when we first start out, and some of us may go years without learning particular conventions that seem obvious to others in our community. This creates frustration for everybody.
Enter this guide!
This is meant to be a sort of handbook for fic writers, particularly those of us who post on Archive of Our Own, laying out and explaining the established metatext conventions already in use in our community so we (and our readers!) are all on the same page. It will also provide some best-practices tips.
The point is to give all of us the tools to communicate with our audience as clearly and effectively as possible, so the people who want to read a story like ours can find it and recognize it as what they're looking for, those who don't want to read a story like ours can easily tell it's not their cup of tea and avoid it, nobody gets hurt, and everybody has fun—including us!
Now that we know what we're talking about, let's get on with the guide! The following content sections appear in the order one is expected to provide each kind of metatext when posting a fic on Ao3, but first….
Warning!
This is a guide for all authors on Ao3. As such, it mentions subject matter and kinds of fic that you personally might hate or find disgusting, but which are allowed under the Archive's terms of use. There are no graphic descriptions or harsh language in the guide itself, but it does acknowledge the existence of fic you may find distasteful and explains how to approach metatext for such fics.
Some sexual terminology is used in an academic context.
A note from the author:
This guide reflects the conventions of the English-language fanfiction community circa 2021. Conventions may differ in other language communities, and although many of our conventions have been in place for decades (praise be to our Star Trek loving foremothers) fanfiction now exists primarily in the realm of internet fandom where things tend to change rather quickly, so some conventions in this guide may die out while other new conventions, not covered in this guide, arise.
This is not official or in any way produced by the Archive of Our Own (Ao3), and though some actual site rules are mentioned, it is not a rulebook. Primarily, it is a descriptivist take on how the userbase uses metatext to communicate amongst ourselves, provided in the interest of making that communication easier and more transparent for everyone, especially newer users.
Contents
How To Use This Guide Ratings Archive Warnings Fandom Tags Category Relationship Tags Character Tags Additional Tags Titles Summaries Author's Notes Series and Chapters Parting Thoughts
How To Use This Guide
Well, read it.  Or have it read to you.
This isn't a glossary, it's a handbook, and it's structured more like an academic paper or report, but there's lots and lots of examples in it!
Many of these examples are titles of real media and the names of characters from published media, or tags quoted directly from Ao3 complete with punctuation and formatting.
Some examples are more generic and use the names Alex, Max, Sam, Chris, Jamie, and Tori for demonstration purposes. In other generic examples, part of an example tag or phrase may be sectioned off with square brackets to show where in that tag or phrase you would put the appropriate information to complete it.  This will look something like “Top [Character A]” where you would fill in a character's name.
This guide presumes that you know the basics of how to use Ao3, at least from the perspective of reading fic. If you don't, much of this guide may be difficult to understand and will be much less helpful to you, though not entirely useless.
Ratings
Most fanfic hosting sites provide ratings systems that work a lot like the ratings on movies and videogames.
Ao3's system has four ratings:
General
Teen
Mature
Explicit
These seem like they should be pretty self-explanatory, and the site's own official info pop-up (accessible by clicking the question mark next to the section prompt) gives brief, straightforward descriptions for each of them.
Even so, many writers have found ourselves staring at that dropdown list, thinking about what we've written, and wondering what's the right freaking rating for this?  How do I know if it's appropriate for “general audiences” or if it needs to be teen and up? What's the difference between Mature and Explicit?
The best way to figure it out is often to think about your fic in comparison to mainstream media.
General is your average Disney or Dreamworks movie, Cartoon Network or Nickelodeon shows, video games like Mario, Kirby, and Pokemon.
There may be romance, but no sexual content or discussion. Scary things might happen and people might get hurt, but violence is non-graphic and usually mild. Adults may be shown drinking alcohol or smoking tobacco, and some degree of intoxication may be shown (usually played for laughs and not focused on), but hard drug use is generally not shown or discussed.  There is little to no foul language written out and what language there may be is mild, though harsher swears may be implied by narration. There are no explicit F-bombs or slurs.
Teen is more like a Marvel movie, most network television shows (things like The Office, Supernatural, or Grey's Anatomy), video games like Final Fantasy, Five Nights at Freddie's, and The Sims.
There might be some sex and sexual discussion, but nothing explicit is shown—things usually fade to black or are leftimplied. More intense danger, more severe injuries described in greater detail, and a higher level of violence may be present.  Substance use may be discussed and intoxication shown, but main characters are unlikely to be shown doing hard drugs. Some swearing and other harsh language may be present, possibly including an F-bomb or two.  In longer works, that might mean an F-bomb every few chapters.
Mature is, in American terms, an R-rated movie* like Deadpool, Fifty Shades of Grey, The Exorcist, and Schindler's List; certain shows from premium cable networks or streaming services like Game of Thrones, Shameless, Breaking Bad, and Black Sails; videogames like Bioshock, Assassin's Creed, Grand Theft Auto, and The Witcher.
Sex may be shown and it might be fairly explicit, but it's not as detailed or graphic or as much the focus of the work as it would be if it were porn. Violence, danger, and bodily harm may be significant and fairly graphic. Most drug use is fair game. Swearing and harsh language may be extensive.
Explicit is, well, extremely explicit. This is full on porn, the hardcore horror movies, and snuff films.
Sex is highly detailed and graphic. Violence and injury is highly detailed and graphic. Drug use and its effects may be highly detailed and graphic. Swearing and harsh language may be extreme, including extensive use of violent slurs.
Please note that both Mature and Explicit fics are intended for adult audiences only, but that does not mean a teenaged writer isn't going to produce fics that should be rated M or E.  Ratings should reflect the content of the fic, not the age of the author.
Strictly speaking, you don't have to choose any of these ratings; Ao3 has a “Not Rated” option, but for purposes of search results and some other functions, Not Rated fics are treated by the site as Explicit, just in case, which means they end up hidden from a significant portion of potential readers. It really is in your best interest as a writer who presumably wants people to see their stories, to select a rating. It helps readers judge if yours is the kind of story they want right now, too.
Rating a fic is a subjective decision, there is some grey area in between each level. If you're not quite sure where your fic falls, best practice is to go with the more restrictive rating.
*(Equivalent to an Australian M15+ or R18+, Canadian 14A, 18A or 18+, UK 15 or 18, German FSK 16 or FSK 18.)
Warnings
Ao3 uses a set of standard site-wide Archive Warnings to indicate that a work contains subject matter that falls into one or more of a few categories that some readers are likely to want to avoid.  Even when posting elsewhere, it's courteous to include warnings of this sort.
These warnings are:
Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Major Character Death
Rape/Non-Con
Underage
Just like with the ratings, the site provides an info-pop up that explains what each warning is for. They're really exactly what it says on the tin: detailed descriptions of violence, injury, and gore; the death of a character central to canon or tothe story being told; non-consensual sex i.e. rape; and depictions of underage sex, which the site defines as under the age of 18 for humans—Ao3 doesn't care if your local age of consent or majority is lower than that.
In addition to the four standard warnings above, the warnings section has two other choices:
No Archive Warnings Apply
Choose Not To Use Archive Warnings
These do not mean the same thing and cannot be used interchangeably. “No Archive Warnings Apply” means that absolutely nothing in your fic falls into any of the four standard warning categories. “Choose Not To Use Archive Warnings” means that you the author are opting out of the warning system; your fic could potentially contain things that fall into any and all of the four standard warning categories.
There's nothing wrong with selecting Choose Not To Use Archive Warnings! It may mean that some readers will avoid your fic because they're not sure it's safe for them, and you might need to use more courtesy tags than you otherwise would (we'll talk about courtesy tags later), but that's okay! Opting out of the warning system can be a way to avoid spoilers,* and is also good for when you're just not sure if what you've written deserves one of the Archive warnings. In that case, the best practice is to select either the warning it might deserve or Choose Not To Use Archive Warnings, then provide additional information in other tags, the summary, or an initial author's note.
Unless you're opting out of using the warning system, select all the warnings that apply to your fic, if any of them do. So if a sixteen year old main character has consensual sex then gets killed in an accident that you've written out in excruciating detail, that fic gets three out of the four standard warnings: Underage, Major Character Death, and Graphic Depictions Of Violence.
*(Fandom etiquette generally favors thorough tagging and warning over avoiding spoilers. It doesn't ruin the experience of a story to have a general sense of what's going to happen. If it did, we wouldn't all keep reading so many “there was only one bed” fics.)
Fandom Tags
What fandom or fandoms is your fic for?  You definitely know what you wrote it for, but that doesn't mean it's obvious what to tag it as.
Sometimes, it is obvious! You watched a movie that isn't based on anything, isn't part of a series, and doesn't have any spinoffs, tie-ins or anything else based on it. You wrote a fic set entirely within the world of this movie. You put this movie as the fandom for your fic. Or maybe you read a book and wrote a fic for it, and there is a movie based on the book, but the movie is really different and you definitely didn't use anything that's only in the movie. You put the book as the fandom for your fic.
All too often, though, it's not that clear.
What if you wrote a fic for something where there's a movie based on a book, but the movie's really different, and you've used both things that are only in the movie and things that are only in the book?  In that case you either tag your fic as both the movie and the book, or see if the fandom has an “all media types” tag and use that instead of the separate tags.  If the fandom doesn't have an “all media types” tag yet, you can make one! Just type it in.
“All media types” fandom tags are also useful for cases where there are lots of inter-related series, like Star Wars; there are several tellings of the story in different media but they're interchangeable or overlap significantly, like The Witcher; or the fandom has about a zillion different versions so it's very hard, even impossible, to say which ones your fic does and doesn't fit, like Batman. Use your best judgement as to whether you need to include a more specific fandom tag such as “Batman (Movies 1989-1997)” alongside the “all media types” fandom tag, but try to avoid including very many. The point of the “all media types” tag is to let you leave off the specific tags for every version.
In a situation where one piece of media has a spinoff, maybe several spinoffs, and you wrote a fic that includes things from more than one of them, you might want use the central work's “& related fandoms” tag. For example, the “Doctor Who & Related Fandoms” tag gets used for fics that include things from a combination of any era of Doctor Who, Torchwood, and The Sarah Jane Adventures.
And don't worry, from the reader-side of the site the broadest fandom tags are prioritized. The results page for an “all media types” or “& related fandoms” search includes works tagged with the more specific sub-tags for that fandom, the browse-by-fandom pages show the broadest tag for each fandom included, and putting a fandom into the search bar presumes the broadest tag for that fandom.  A search for “Star Wars - All Media Types” will pull up work that only has a subtag for that fandom, like “The Mandalorian (TV).” You don't have to put every specific fandom subtag for people to find your fic.
If you wrote a fic for something that's an adaptation of an older work—especially an older work that's been adapted a lot, like Sherlock Holmes or The Three Musketeers—it can be hard to know how you should tag it. The best choice is to put the adaptation as the fandom, for instance “Sherlock (TV),” then, if you're also using aspects of the older source work that aren't in the adaptation, also put a broad fandom tag such as “Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms.” Do not tag it as being fic for the source work—in our Sherlock example that would be tagging it “Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle”—unless you are crossing over the source work and the adaptation. Otherwise, the specific fandom subtag for the source work ends up clogged with fic for the adaptation, which really is a different thing.
By the same token, fic for the source work shouldn't be tagged as being for the adaptation, or the adaptation's subtag will get clogged.
The same principle applies to fandoms that have been rebooted. Don't tag fic for the reboot as being for the original, or fic for the original as being for the reboot. Don't tag a fic as being for both unless the reboot and original are actually interacting. Use an “& related fandoms” tag for the original if your fic for the reboot includes some aspects of the original that weren't carried over but you haven't quite written a crossover between the two. Good examples of these situations can be seen with “Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)” vs. “Star Trek: The Original Series,” and “She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)” vs. “She-Ra: Princess Of Power (1985).”
Usually, this kind of mistagging as a related fandom happens when someone writes a fic for something that is or has a reboot, spinoff, or adaptation, but they're only familiar with one of the related pieces of media, and they mistakenly presume the fandoms are the same or interchangeable because they just don't know the difference.  It's an honest mistake and it doesn't make you a bad or fake fan to not know, but it can be frustrating for readers who want fic for one thing and find the fandom tag full of fic for something else.
In order to avoid those kinds of issues, best practice is to assume fandoms are not interchangeable no matter how closely related they are, and to default to using a tag pair of the most-specific-possible sub-fandom tag + the broadest possible fandom tag when posting a fic you're not entirely sure about, for instance “Star Trek” and “Star Trek: Enterprise.”
The Marvel megafandom has its own particular tagging hell going on. Really digging into and trying to make sense of that entire situation would require its own guide, but we can go through some general tips.
There is a general “Marvel” fandom tag and tags for both “The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom” and “The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types.” Most of us who write Marvel fic are working with a cherry picked combination of canons from the MCU, various comics runs, both timelines of X-Men movies, and possibly several decades worth of cartoons. That's what these tags are for.
If your cherry picked Marvel fic is more X-Men than Avengers, go for the “X-Men - All Media Types” tag.
If you are primarily working with MCU canon, use the MCU specific tags rather than “all media types” and add specific tags for individual comics runs—like Earth 616 or the Fraction Hawkeye comics—if you know you're lifting particular details from the comics.  If you're just filling in gaps in MCU canon with things that are nebulously “from the comics” don't worry about tagging for that, it's accepted standard practice in the fandom at this point, use a broader tag along with your MCU-specific tag if you want to.
Same general idea for primarily movie-verse X-Men fics. Use the movie-specific tags.
If your fic mostly draws from the comics, use the comics tags. If you're focusing on an individual run, show, or movie series rather than an ensemble or large swath of the megafranchise, tag for that and leave off the broader fandom tags.
Try your best to minimize the number of fandom tags on your Marvel work. Ideally, you can get it down to two or three. Even paring it down as much as you can you might still end up with about five.  If you're in the double digits, take another look to see if all the fandom tags you've included are really necessary, or if some of them are redundant or only there to represent characters who are in the fic but that the fic doesn't focus on. Many readers tend to search Marvel fics by character or pairing tags, it's more important that you're thorough there. For the fandom tags it's more important that you're clear.
If you write real person fiction, you need to tag it as an RPF fandom. Fic about actors who are in a show together does not belong on the fandom tag for that show. There are separate RPF fandom tags for most shows and film franchises. Much like the adaptation/source and reboot/original situations discussed earlier, a fic should really only be tagged with both a franchise's RPF tag and its main tag if something happens like the actors—or director or writer!—falling into the fictional world or meeting their characters.
Of course, not all RPF is about actors. Most sports have RPF tags, there are RPF tags for politics from around the world and for various historical settings, the fandom tags for bands are generally presumed to be RPF tags, and there is a general Real Person Fiction tag.
In order to simplify things for readers, it's best practice to use the general Real Person Fiction tag in addition to your fandom-specific tag. You may even want to put “RPF” as a courtesy tag in the Additional Tags section, too. This is because Ao3 isn't currently set up to recognize RPF as the special flavor of fic that it is in the same way that the site recognizes crossovers as special, so it can be very difficult to either seek out or avoid RPF since it's scattered across hundreds of different fandom tags.
On the subject of crossovers—they can make fandom tagging even more daunting. Even for a crossover with lots of fandoms involved, though, you just have to follow the same guidelines as to tag a single-fandom work for each fandom in the crossover. The tricky part is figuring out if what you wrote is really a crossover, or just an AU informed by another fandom—we'll talk about that later.
There are some cases where it's really hard to figure out what fandom something belongs to, like if you wrote a fanfic of someone else's fanfic, theirs is an AU and yours is about their OC, not any of the characters from canon. What do you do?! Well, you do not tag it as being a fanfic for the same thing theirs was. Put the title of their fic (or name of their series) as the fandom for your fic, attributed to their Ao3 handle just like any other fandom is attributed to its author. Explain the situation in either the summary or the initial author's note. Also, ask the author's permission before posting something like this.
What if you wrote a story about your totally original D&D character? The fandom is still D&D, you want the “Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)” tag.
What if there's not a fandom tag on the Archive yet for what you wrote? Not a problem! You can type in a new one if you're the first person to post something for a particular fandom. Do make sure, though, that the fandom isn't just listed by a different name than you expect. Many works that aren't originally in English—including anime—are listed by their original language title or a direct translation first, and sometimes a franchise or series's official name might not be what you personally call it, for instance many people think of Phillip Pullman's His Dark Materials series as The Golden Compass series, so it's best to double check.
What if you wrote an entirely new original story that's not based on anything?  Excellent job, that takes a lot of work, but that probably doesn't belong on Ao3!  The Archive is primarily meant as a repository for fannish content, but in a few particular circumstances things we'd consider Original Work may be appropriate content for the Archive as well. Double check the Archive's Terms of Service FAQ and gauge if what you wrote falls under the scope of what is allowed. If what you wrote really doesn't fit here, post it somewhere else or try to get it published if you feel like giving it a shot.
Category
What Ao3 means by category is “does this fic focus on sex or romance, and if so what combination of genders are involved in that sex or romance?”
The category options are:
F/F
F/M
Gen
M/M
Multi
Other
The F/F, F/M, and M/M categories are for stories focused on pairings of two women, a woman and a man, and two men, respectively.  These refer to sexual and/or romantic pairings.
The Other category is for stories focused on (sexual and/or romantic) pairings where one or both partners are not strictly male or female, such as nonbinary individuals, people from cultures with gender systems that don't match to the Western man-woman system, and nonhuman characters for whom biological sex works differently or is nonexistent, including aliens, robots, and inanimate objects or abstract concepts. There are some problems with treating nonbinary humans, eldritch tentacle monsters, sexless androids, and wayward container ships as all the same category, but it's the system we currently have to work with. Use Additional Tags to clarify the situation.
Multi is for stories in which several (sexual and/or romantic) relationships are focused on or which focus on relationships with multiple partners, including cases of polyamory, serial monogamy, strings of hookups with different people, and orgies.  A fic will also show as “Multi” if you, the author, have selected more than one category for the fic, even if none of those are the Multi category. Realistically, the Archive needs separate “Multiple Categories” and “Poly” options, but for now we have to work with this system in which the two are combined.  Use Additional Tags to clarify the situation.
Gen is for stories that do not contain or are not focused on sex or romance. Romance may be present in a gen fic but it's going to be in the background.  While rare, there is such a thing as a sexually explicit gen fic—solo masturbation which does not feature fantasizing about another character is explicit gen fic; a doctor character seeing a series of patients with sex-related medical needs following an orgy may qualify if the orgy is not shown and the doctor is being strictly professional—but such fic needs to be rated, otherwise tagged, and explained carefully in the summary and/or author's note.
Much like the warnings section, category is a “select all that apply” situation. Use your best judgement. For a fic about a polyamorous relationship among a group of women, it's entirely appropriate to tag it as both F/F and Multi.  A poly fic with a combination of men and women in the relationship could be shown as both M/M and F/M, Multi, or all three. A fic that focuses equally on one brother and his husband and the other brother and his wife should be tagged both M/M and F/M, and could be tagged as Multi but you might decided not to just to be clear that there's no polyamory going on. If you wrote a fic about two characters who are both men in canon, but you wrote one of them as nonbinary, you could tag it M/M, Other, or both depending on what you feel is representative and respectful.
When dealing with trans characters, whether they're trans in canon or you're writing them as such, the category selection should match the character's gender.  If there's a character who is a cis woman in canon, but who you're writing as a trans man, you categorize the fic based on his being a man. If there's a character who is a cis man in canon, but whom you're writing as a trans man, he is still a man and the fic should be categorized accordingly. When dealing with nonbinary characters the fic should really be classed as Other though, by convention, fics about characters who are not nonbinary in canon may be classed based on the character's canon gender as well or instead. When dealing with gender swapped characters—i.e. a canonically cis male superhero who you're writing as a cis woman—class the fic using the gender you wrote her with, not the gender he is in canon.
Most of the time, gen fics should not be categorized jointly with anything else because a fic should only be categorized based on the ships it focuses on, and a gen fic should not be focusing on a ship in the first place.*
*(One of the few circumstances in which it might make sense to class a fic as both gen and something else is when writing about Queerplatonic Relationships, but that is a judgement call and depends on the fic.)
Relationship Tags
The thing about relationship tagging that people most frequently misunderstand or just don't know is the difference between “Character A/Character B” and “Character A & Character B.”
Use a “/” for romantic or sexual relationships, such as spouses, people who are dating, hookups, and friends with benefits. Use “&” for platonic or familial relationships, such as friends, siblings, parents with their kids, coworkers, and deeply connected mortal enemies who are not tragically in love.
This is where we get the phrase “slash fic.” Originally, that meant any fic focused on a romantic paring, but since so much of the romantic fic being produced was about pairs of men, “slash fic” came to mean same-sex pairings, especially male same-sex pairings. Back in earlier days of fandom, pre-Ao3 and even pre-internet, there was a convention that when writing out a different-sex pairing, you did so in man/woman order, while same-sex pairings were done top/bottom. Some authors, especially those who have been in the fic community a long time, may still do this, but the convention has not been in consistent, active use for many years, so you don't have to worry about putting the names in the “correct” order. Part of why that died out is we, as a community, have gotten less strict and more nuanced in our understandings of sex and relationships, we're writing non-penetrative sex more than we used to, and we're writing multi-partner relationships and sex more than we used to, so strictly delineating “tops” and “bottoms” has gotten less important and less useful.
The convention currently in use on Ao3 is that the names go in alphabetical order for both “/” and “&” relationships. In most cases, the Archive uses the character's full name instead of a nickname or just a given name, like James "Bucky" Barnes instead of just Bucky or James. We'll talk more about conventions for how to input character names in the Characters section. The Archive will give you suggestions as you type—if one of them fits what you mean but is slightly different from how you were typing it, for instance it's in a different order, please use the tag suggested! Consistency in tags across users helps the site work more smoothly for everybody.
This is really not the place for ship nicknames like Puckleberry, Wolfstar, or Ineffable Wives. Use the characters' names.
Now that you know how to format the relationship tag to say what you mean, you have to figure out what relationships in your fic to tag for.
The answer is you tag the relationships that are important to the story you're telling, the ones you spend time and attention following, building up, and maybe even breaking down. Tagging for a ship is not a promise of a happy ending for that pair; you don't have to limit yourself to tagging only the end-game ships if you're telling a story that's more complicated than “they get together and live happily ever after.” That said, you should generally list the main ship—the one you focus on the most—first on the list, and that will usually be the end-game ship. You should also use Additional Tags, the summary, and author's notes to make it clear to readers if your fic does not end happily for a ship you've tagged. Otherwise readers will assume that a fic tagged as being about a ship will end well for that ship, because that's what usually happens, and they'll end up disappointed and hurt, possibly feeling tricked or lied to, when your fic doesn't end well for that ship
You don't have to, and honestly shouldn't, tag for every single relationship that shows up in your fic at all. A character's brief side fling mentioned in passing, or a relationship between two background characters should not be listed under the Relationship tag section. You can list them in the format “minor Character A/Character C” or “Character C/Character D – mentions of” in the Additional Tags section if you want to, or just tag “Minor or Background Relationship(s)” under either the Relationship tag section or in the Additional Tags section.
There are two main reasons to not tag all those minor relationships. The first is to streamline your tags, which makes them clearer and more readable, and therefore more useful. The second reason is because certain ships are far more common as minor or background relationships than as the focus of a work, so tagging all your non-focus focus ships leads to the tags for these less popular ships getting clogged with stories they appear in, but that are not about them. That is, of course, very frustrating for readers who really want to read stories that focus on these ships.
If your fic contains a major relationship between a canon character and an OC, reader-insert, or self-insert, tag it as such. The archive already has /Original Character, /Reader, /You, and /Me tags for most characters in most fandoms. If such a relationship tag isn't already in use, type it in yourself. There are OC/OC tags, too, some of which specify gender, some of which do not.  All the relationship tags that include OCs stack the gender-specific versions of the tags under the nongendered ones. Use these tags as appropriate.
For group relationships, both polycules and multi-person friendships, you “/” or “&” all the names involved in alphabetical order, so Alex/Max/Sam are dating while Chris & Jamie & Tori are best friends. For a poly situation where not everyone is dating each other you should tag it something like “Alex/Max, Alex/Sam” because Alex is dating both Max and Sam, but Max and Sam are not romantically or sexually involved with each other. Use your judgement as to whether you still want to include the Alex/Max/Sam trio tag, and whether you should also use a “Sam & Max” friendship tag.
Generally, romantic “/” type relationships are emphasized over “&” type relationships in fic. It is more important that you tag your “/”s thoroughly and accurately than that you tag your “&”s at all. This is because readers are far more likely to either be looking for or be squicked by particular “/” relationships than they are “&” relationships. You can tag the same pair of characters as both / and & if both their romance and their friendship is important to the story, but a lot of people see this as redundant. If you're writing incest fic, use the / tag for the pair not the & tag and put a courtesy tag for “incest” in the Additional Tags section; this is how readers who do not want to see incestuous relationships avoid that material.
Queerplatonic Relationships, Ambiguous Relationships, Pre-Slash, and “Slash If You Squint” are all frequently listed with both the “/” and “&” forms of the pairing; use your best judgement as to whether one or the other or both is most appropriate for what you've written and clarify the nature of the relationship in your Additional Tags.
Overall, list your “/” tags first, then your “&” tags.
Character Tags
Tagging your characters is a lot like tagging your relationships. Who is your fic about? That's who you put in your character tags.
You don't have to and really should not tag every single background character who shows up for just a moment in the story, for pretty much the same reasons you shouldn't tag background relationships.  We don't want to clog less commonly focused on characters' tags with stories they don't feature prominently in.
You do need to tag the characters included in your Relationship tags.
A character study type of fic might only have one character you need to tag for. Romantic one shots frequently only have two. Longfics and fics with big ensemble casts can easily end up with a dozen characters or more who really do deserve to be tagged for.
Put them in order of importance. This doesn't have to be strict hierarchal ranking, you can just arrange them into groups of “main characters,” “major supporting characters,” and “minor supporting characters.” Nobody less than a minor supporting character should be tagged. Even minor supporting characters show up for more than one line.
If everyone in the fic is genuinely at the same level of importance (which does happen, especially with small cast fics), then order doesn't really matter. You can arrange them by order of appearance or alphabetically by name if you want to be particularly neat about it.
Do tag your OCs! Some people love reading about OCs and want to be able to find them; some people can't stand OCs and want to avoid them at all costs; most people are fine with OCs sometimes, but might have to be in the mood for an OC-centric story or only be comfortable with OCs in certain contexts. Regardless, though, Character tags are here to tell readers who the story is about, and that includes new faces. Original Characters are characters and if they're important to the story, they deserve to be tagged for just like canon characters do.
There are tags for “Original Character(s),” “Original Male Character(s),” and “Original Female Character(s).” Use these tags!  If you have OCs you're going to be using frequently in different stories, type up a character tag in the form “[OC's Name] – Original Character” and use that in addition to the generic OC tags.
Also tag “Reader,” “You,” or “Me” as a character if you've written a reader- or self-insert.
You can use the “Minor Characters” tag to wrap up everybody, both OC and canon, who doesn't warrant their own character tag. Remember, though, that this tag is also used to refer to minor canon characters who may not have their own official names.
Just like when tagging for relationships, the convention when tagging for characters is to use their full name. The suggestions the Archive gives you as you type will help you use the established way of referring to a given character.
Characters who go by more than one name usually have their two most used names listed together as one tag with the two names separated by a vertical bar like “Andy | Andromache of Scythia.” This also gets used sometimes for characters who have different names in an adaptation than in the source text, or a different name in the English-language localization of a work than in the original language. For character names from both real-world and fictional languages and cultures that put family or surname before the given name—like the real Japanese name Takeuchi Naoko or the made up Bajoran name Kira Nerys—that order is used when tagging, even if you wrote your fic putting the given name first.
Some characters' tags include the fandom they're from in parentheses after their name like “Connor (Detroit: Become Human).” This is mostly characters with ordinary given names like Connor and no canon surname, characters who have the same full name as a character in another fandom, such as Billy Flynn the lawyer from the musical Chicago and Billy Flynn the serial killer played by Tim Curry in Criminal Minds, and characters based on mythological, religious, or historical figures or named for common concepts such as Lucifer, Loki, Amethyst, Death, and Zero that make appearances in multiple fandoms.
Additional Tags
Additional Tags is one of the most complicated, and often the longest, section of metatext we find ourselves providing when we post fic. It's also the one that gives our readers the greatest volume of information.
That, of course, is what makes it so hard for us to do well.
It can help to break down Additional Tags into three main functions of tag: courtesy tags, descriptive tags, and personal tags.
Courtesy tags serve as extensions of the rating and warning systems. They can help clarify the rating, provide more information about the Archive Warnings you've used or chosen not to use, and give additional warnings to tell readers there are things in this fic that may be distasteful, upsetting, or triggering but that the Archive doesn't have a standard warning for.
Descriptive tags give the reader information about who's in this fic, what kind of things happen, what tropes are in play, and what the vibe is, as well as practical information about things like format and tense.
Personal tags tell the readers things about us, the author, our process, our relationship to our fic, and our thoughts at the time of posting.
It doesn't really matter what order you put these tags in, but it is best practice to try to clump them: courtesy tags all together so it's harder for a reader to miss an important one, ship-related info tags together, character-related info tags together, etc.
There are tons and tons of established tags on Ao3, and while it's totally fine, fun, and often necessary to make up your own tags, it's also important to use established tags that fit your fic.  For one thing, using established tags makes life easier for the tag wranglers behind the scenes. Using a new tag you just made up that means the same thing as an established tag makes more work for the tag wranglers. We like the tag wranglers, they're all volunteers, and they're largely responsible for the search and sorting features being functional. Be kind to the tag wranglers.
For basically the same reasons, using established tags makes it easier for readers to find your fic. If a reader either searches by a tag or uses filters on another search to “Include” that tag, and you didn't use that tag, your fic will not show up for them even if what you wrote is exactly what they're looking for.  Established tags can be searched by exactly the same way as you search by fandom or pairing, your off the cuff tags cannot.
Let's talk about some well-known established tags and common tag types, divvied up by main function.
Courtesy
A lot of courtesy tags are specific warnings like “Dubious Consent,” “Incest,” “Drug Use,” “Extremely Underage,” “Toxic Relationship,” and “Abuse.” Many of these have even more specific versions such as “Recreational Drug Use” and “Nonconsensual Drug Use,” or “Mildly Dubious Consent” and “Extremely Dubious Consent.”
Giving details about what, if any, drugs are used or mentioned, specifying what kinds of violence or bodily harm are discussed or depicted, details about age differences or power-imbalanced relationships between characters who date or have sex, discussion or depictions of suicide, severe or terminal illness, or mental health struggles is useful. It helps give readers a clear sense of what they'll encounter in your fic and decide if they're up for it.
One the most useful courtesy warning tags is “Dead Dove: Do Not Eat” which basically means “there are things in this fic which are really screwed up and may be disturbing, read at your own risk, steer clear if you're not sure.” This tag—like all courtesy warnings, really—is a show of good faith, by using it you are being a responsible, and thoughtful member of the fanfic community by giving readers the power and necessary information to make their own informed decisions about what they are and are not comfortable reading.
Saying to “Heed the tags” is quite self-explanatory and, if used, should be the last or second to last tag so it's easy to spot.  Remember, though, that “Heed the tags” isn't useful if your tags aren't thorough and clear.
“Additional Warnings In Author's Note” is one of only things that should ever go after “Heed the tags.”  If you use this, your additional warnings need to go in the author's note at the very beginning of the fic, not the one at the end of the first chapter.  If your additional warnings write up is going to be very long because it's highly detailed, then it can go at the bottom of the chapter with a note at the beginning indicating that the warnings are at the bottom. Some authors give an abbreviated or vague set of warnings in the initial note, then longer, highly detailed, spoilery warnings in the end note. It's best to make it as simple and straightforward as possible for readers to access warnings.
Tagging with “Dead Dove: Do Not Eat,” “Heed the tags,” or “Additional Warnings In Author's Note” is not a substitute for thorough and appropriate courtesy tagging. These are extra reminders to readers to look closely at the other warnings you've given.
While most courtesy tags are warnings, some are assurances like “No Lesbians Die” or “It's Not As Bad As It Sounds.”  A fic tagged for rape or dub-con may get a tag assuring that the consent issues are not between the characters in the main ship; or a fic with a premise that sounds likely to involve lack of consent but actually doesn't may get a tag that it's “NOT rape/non-con.” A tag like “Animal Death” may be immediately followed by a freeform tag assuring that the animal that dies is not the protagonist's beloved horse.
Descriptive
There are a few general kinds of descriptive tags including character-related, ship-related, temporal, relation-to-canon, trope-related, smut details, and technical specifications.
Many character- and ship-related tags simply expand on the Character and Relationship tags we've already talked about.  This is usually the place to specify details about OCs and inserts, such as how a reader-insert is gendered.
When it comes to character-related tags, one of the most common types in use on Ao3 and in fandom at large is the bang-path. This is things like werewolf!Alex, trans!Max, top!Sam, kid!Jamie, and captain!Tori. Basically, a bang-path is a way of specifying a version of a character. We've been using this format for decades; it comes from the very first email systems used by universities in the earliest days of internet before the World Wide Web existed. It's especially useful for quickly and concisely explaining the roles of characters in an AU. Nowadays this is also one of the primary conventions for indicating who's top and who's bottom in a ship if that's information you feel the need to establish.  The other current convention for indicating top/bottom is as non-bang-path character-related tags in the form “Top [Character A], Bottom [Character B].”
Other common sorts of character tags are things like “[Character A] Needs a Hug,” “Emotionally Constipated [Character B],” and “[Character C] is a Good Dad.”
Some character-related tags don't refer to a particular character by name, but tell readers something about what kinds of characters are in the fic. Usually, this indicates the minority status of characters and may indicate whether or not that minority status is canon, as in “Nonbinary Character,” “Canon Muslim Character,” “Deaf Character,” and “Canon Disabled Character.”
Down here in the tags is the place to put ship nicknames!  This is also where to say things like “They're idiots your honor” or indicate that they're “Idiots in Love,” maybe both since “Idiots in Love” is an established searchable tag but “They're idiots your honor” isn't yet. If your fandom has catchphrases related to your ship, put that here if you want to.
If relevant, specify some things about the nature of relationships in your fic such as “Ambiguous Relationship,” “Queerplatonic Relationships,” “Polyamory,” “Friends With Benefits,” “Teacher-Student Relationship,” and so on. Not all fics need tags like these. Use your best judgement whether your current fic does.
Temporal tags indicate when your fic takes place. That can be things like “Pre-Canon” and “Post-Canon,” “Pre-War,” “Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier,” “1996-1997 NHL season,” “Future Fic,” and so on.  These tags may be in reference to temporal landmarks in canon, in the real world, or both depending on what's appropriate.
Some temporal tags do double duty by also being tags about the fic's relationship to canon. The Pre- and Post-Canon tags are like that.
Other relation-to-canon type tags are “Canon Compliant” for fics that fit completely inside the framework of canon without changing or contradicting anything, “Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence” for fics that are compliant up to a certain point in canon, then veer off (maybe because you started writing the fic when the show was on season two but now it's at season four and you're not incorporating everything from the newer seasons, maybe a character died and you refuse to acknowledge that, maybe you just want to explore what might have happened if a particular scene had gone differently), and the various other Alternate Universe tags for everything from coffee shop AUs and updates to modern settings, to realities where everyone is a dragon or no one has their canon superpowers.
The established format for these tags is “Alternate Universe – [type],” but a few have irregular names as well, such as “Wingfic” for AUs in which characters who don't ordinarily have wings are written as having wings.
If you have written an AU, please tag clearly what it is! Make things easy on both the readers who are in the mood to read twenty royalty AUs in a row, the readers who are in the middle of finals week and the thought of their favorite characters suffering through exams in a college AU would destroy the last shred of their sanity but would enjoy watching those characters teach high school, and the readers who really just want to stick to the world of canon right now.
Admittedly, it can get a little confusing what AU tag or tags you need to describe what you've written since most of us have never had a fandom elder sit us down and explain what the AU tags mean. One common mix up is tagging things “Alternate Universe - Modern Setting” when what's meant is “Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence.”  The misunderstanding here is usually reading “Alternate Universe - Modern Setting” and thinking it means an alternate version of the canon universe that is set at the same time as the canon universe, but is different in some way. That's not how the tag is meant to be used, though.
The Modern Setting AU tag is specifically for fic set now (at approximately the same time period it was written), for media that's canonically set somewhere that is very much not the present of the real world. This can mean things set in the past (like Jane Austen), the future (like Star Trek), or a fantasy world entirely different from our own (like Lord of the Rings or Avatar: the Last Airbender). Fic for a canon that's set more or less “now” doesn't need the Modern Setting AU tag, even if the world of canon is different from our own. If you're removing those differences by putting fantasy or superhero characters in a world without magic or supersoldier serum, you might want the “Alternate Universe - No Powers” tag instead.
Some of the most fun descriptive tags are trope tags. This includes things like “Mutual Pining,” “Bed Sharing” for when your OTP gets to their hotel room to find There Was Only One Bed, “Fake Dating,” “Angst,” Fluff,” “Hurt/Comfort” and all its variants.  Readers love tropes at least as much as we love writing them and want to be able to find their favorites. Everyone also has tropes they don't like and would rather avoid. Tagging them allows your fic to be filtered in and out by what major tropes you've used.
Explicit fics, and sometimes fics with less restrictive ratings, that contain sex usually have tags indicating details about the nature of the sexual encounter(s) portrayed and what sex acts are depicted. These are descriptive tags, but they also do double duty as courtesy tags. This is very much a situation in which tags are a consent mechanism; by thoroughly and clearly tagging your smut you are giving readers the chance to knowingly opt in or out of the experience you've written.
Most of the time, it's pretty easy to do basic tagging for sex acts—you know whether what you wrote shows Vaginal Sex, Anal Sex, or Non-penetrative Sex.  You probably know the names for different kinds of Oral Sex you may have included. You might not know what to call Frottage or Intercrural Sex, though, even if you understand the concept and included the act in your fic. Sometimes there are tags with rectangle-square type relationships (all Blow Jobs are Oral Sex, but not all Oral Sex is a Blow Job) and you're not sure if you should tag for both—you probably should. Sometimes there are tags for overlapping, closely related, or very similar acts or kinks and you're not sure which to tag—that one's more of judgement call; do your best to use the tags that most closely describe what you wrote.
Tag for the kinks at play, if any, so readers can find what they're into and avoid what they're not. Tag for what genitalia characters have if it's nonobvious, including if there's Non-Human Genitalia involved. Tag your A/B/O, your Pon Farr, and your Tentacles, including whether it's Consentacles or Tentacle Rape.
Technical specification tags give information about aspects of the fic other than its narrative content.  Most things on Ao3 are prose fiction so that's assumed to be the default, so anything else needs to be specified in tags. That includes Poetry, Podfics, things in Script Format, and Art. If it is a podfic, you should tag with the approximate length in minutes (or hours). If a fic is Illustrated (it has both words and visual art) tag for that.
Tag if your fic is a crossover or fusion.  The difference, if you're not sure, is that in a crossover, two (or more) entire worlds from different media meet, whereas in a fusion, some aspects of one world, like the cast of characters, are combined with aspects of another, like the setting or magic system.
If the team of paranormal investigators from one show get in contact with the cast of aliens from another show, that's a crossover and you need to have all the media you're drawing from up in the Fandom tags. If you've given the cast of Hamlet physical manifestations of their souls in the form of animal companions like the daemons from His Dark Materials but nothing else from His Dark Materials shows up, that's a fusion, the Fandom tag should be “Hamlet - Shakespeare,” and you need the “Alternate Universe - Daemons” tag. If you've given the members of a boy band elemental magic powers like in Avatar: the Last Airbender, that can be more of a judgement call depending how much from Avatar you've incorporated into your story. If absolutely no characters or specific settings from Avatar show up, it's probably a fusion.  Either way, if the boyband exists in real life, it needs to be tagged as RPF.
Tag if your fic is a Reader-Insert or Self-Insert.
You might want to tag for whether your fic is written with POV First, Second, or Third Person, and if it's Past Tense or Present Tense (or Future Tense, though that's extremely uncommon).  For POV First Person fics that are not self-inserts, or POV Third Person fics that are written in third person limited, you may want to tag which character's POV is being shown. Almost all POV Second Person fics are reader-insert, so if you've written one that isn't, you should tag for who the “you” is.
A fic is “POV Outsider” if the character through whom the story is being conveyed is outside the situation or not familiar with the characters and context a reader would generally know from canon. The waitress who doesn't know the guy who just sat down in her diner is a monster hunter, and the guy stuck in spaceport because some hotshot captain accidentally locked down the entire space station, are both potential narrators for POV Outsider stories.
Other technical specifications can be tags for things like OCtober and Kinktober or fic bingo games.  Tagging something as a Ficlet, One Shot, or Drabble is a technical specification (we're not going to argue right now over what counts as a drabble). Tagging for genre, like Horror or Fantasy, is too.
It's also good to tag accessibility considerations like “Sreenreader Friendly,” but make sure your fic definitely meets the needs of a given kind of accessibility before tagging it.
Personal
Even among personal tags there are established tags!  Things like “I'm Sorry,” “The Author Regrets Nothing,” “The Author Regrets Everything,” and “I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping” are common ones.  Tags about us and our relationship to the fic, such as “My First Work In This Fandom,” “Author is Not Religious,” and “Trans Porn By A Trans Author,” can help readers gauge what to expect from our fic. Of course, you are not at all obligated to disclose any personal information for any reason when posting your fic.
The “I'm Bad At Tagging” tag is common, but probably overused. Tagging is hard; very few of us have a natural feel for it even with lots of practice.  It's not a completely useless tag because it can indicate to readers that you've probably missed some things you should have tagged for, so they should be extra careful; but it can also turn into a crutch, an excuse to not try, and therefore a sign to readers they can't trust your tagging job. Just do your best, and leave off the self depreciation. If you're really concerned about the quality of your tagging, consider putting in an author's note asking readers to let you know if there are any tags you should add.
You might want to let readers know your fic is “Not Beta Read” or, if you're feeling a little cheekier than that, say “No Beta We Die Like Men” or its many fandom-specific variants like the “No Beta We Die Like Robins” frequently found among Batman fics and “No beta we die like Sunset Curve” among Julie and The Phantoms fic. Don't worry, the Archive recognizes all of these as meaning “Not Beta Read.”
The Archive can be inconsistent about whether it stacks specific variants of Additional Tags under the broadest version of the tag like it does with Fandom tags, so best practice is usually to use both.  You can double check by trying to search by a variant tag (or clicking on someone else's use of the variant); if the results page says the broader or more common form of the tag, those stack.
There's no such thing as the right number of tags. Some people prefer more tags and more detail, while other people prefer fewer more streamlined tags, and different fics have different things that need to be tagged for.  There is, however, such a thing as too many tags.  A tagblock that takes up the entire screen, or more, can be unreadable, at which point they are no longer useful. Focus on the main points and don't try to tag for absolutely everything.  Use the “Additional Warnings In Author's Note” strategy if your courtesy tags are what's getting out of hand.
Tag for as much as you feel is necessary for readers to find your fic and understand what they're getting into if they decide to open it up.
A little bit of redundancy in tags is not a sin.  In fact, slight redundancy is usually preferable to vagueness. Clear communication in tags is a cardinal virtue. Remember that tags serve a purpose, they're primarily a tool for sorting and filtering, and (unlike on some other sites like tumblr) they work, so it's best to keep them informative and try to limit rambling in the tags. Ramble at length in your author's notes instead!
Titles
Picking a title can be one of the most daunting and frustrating parts of posting a fic. Sometimes we just know what to call our fics and it's a beautiful moment. Other times we stare at that little input box for what feels like an eternity.
The good news is there's really no wrong way to select a title. Titles can be long or short, poetic or straight to the point. Song lyrics, idioms, quotes from literature or from the fic itself can be good ways to go.
Single words or phrases with meanings that are representative of the fic can be great. A lot of times these are well known terms or are easy enough to figure out like Midnight or Morning Glow, but if you find yourself using something that not a lot of people know what it means, like Chiaroscuro (an art style that uses heavy shadow and strong contrast between light and dark), Kintsukuroi (the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery with gold), or Clusivity (the grammatical term for differences in who is or isn't included in a group pronoun), you should define the term in either a subtitle, i.e. “Chiaroscuro: A Study In Contrast,” or at the beginning of the summary.
As a courtesy to other writers, especially in small fandoms, you may want to check to make sure there's not already another fic with the same title in the same fandom, but this is not required. In large fandoms, there's no point in even trying. After all, there are only so many puns to be made about the full moon and only so many verses to Hallelujah.
It may be common practice on other platforms to include information such as fandom or ship in the title of a fic, but on Ao3 nothing that is specified by tags belongs in the title unless your title happens to be the same as a tag because, for instance, you've straightforwardly titled your character study of Dean Winchester “Dean Winchester Character Study” and also responsibly tagged it as such.
Summaries
Yes, you really do need to put something down for the summary. It might only need to be a single sentence, but give the readers something to go off of.
The summary is there to serve two purposes: one, to catch the interest of potential readers, give them a taste of what's inside, and make them want to know more; and two, to give you a space to provide information or make comments that don't really fit in the tags but that you want readers to see before they open the fic.
We've already talked some about that second function. When you put an explanation of the title or clarification about tags in the summary, that's the purpose it's serving. You can also put notes to “Heed the tags” or instruct readers that there are additional warnings in the author's note here in the summary, rather than doing so in the tags.
The first function, the actual summarizing, can be very hard for some of us.  It's basically the movie trailer for your fic, butwhat are you even supposed to say?
There are two main strategies as to how to approach this: the blurb, and the excerpt. Blurbs are like the synopses you at least used to see on the backs of published books, or the “Storyline” section on an IMDb page. Writing one is a matter of telling your readers who does what, under what circumstances.
Depending on the fic, one sentence can capture the whole thing: “Sam and Alex have sex on a train.” “Tori tries to rob a bank.” “If anybody had mentioned Max's new house was haunted, Jamie wouldn't have agreed to help with the move.”
Sometimes a blurb can be a question! “What happens when you lock a nuclear engineer in a closet with a sewing kit, a tennis ball, and half a bottle of Sprite?”
Of course, plenty of blurbs are more than one sentence. Their length can vary pretty significantly depending on the type and length of fic you're working with and how much detail you're trying to convey, but it shouldn't get to be more than a few short paragraphs. You're not retelling the entire fic here.
An excerpt is a portion of the fic copied out to serve as the summary. This, too, can vary in length from a line or two to several paragraphs, but shouldn't get too long. It should not be an entire scene unless that scene happens to be uncommonly short. It's important to select a portion of the fic that both indicates the who, what, and under what circumstances of the fic and is representative of the overall tone. Excerpts that are nothing but dialogue with no indication of who's talking are almost never a good choice. Portions that are sexually explicit or extremely violent are never ever a good choice—if it deserves content warnings, it belongs inside the fic, not on the results page.
Counterintuitively, some of the best excerpts won't even look like an excerpt to the reader if they don't contain dialogue. They seem like particularly literary blurbs until the reader reaches that part in the fic and realizes they recognize a section of narration.
Some of us have very strong preferences as to whether we write blurbs or use excerpts for our summaries. Some readers have very strong preferences as to which they find useful. Ultimately, there's no accounting for taste, but there are things we can do to limit the frustration for readers who prefer summaries of the opposite kind than we prefer to write, without increasing our own frustration or work load very much. Part of that is understanding what readers dislike about each type so we know what to mitigate.
Blurbs can seem dry, academic, and overly simplified. They don't automatically give the reader a sense of your writing style the way an excerpt does. They can also seem redundant, like they're just rehashing information already given in the tags, so the reader feels like they're being denied any more information without opening the fic.
Excerpts can seem lazy, like you, the author, don't care enough to bother writing a blurb, or pushy like you're telling the reader “just read the fic; I'm not going to give you the information you need to decide if you want to read or not, I'm shoving it in front of you and you just have to read it.” That effect gets worse if your tags aren't very informative or clear about what the plot is, if the excerpt is obviously just the first few lines or paragraphs of the fic, if the except is particularly long, or, worst of all, if all three are true at once.
A lot of the potential problems with blurbs can be minimized by having fun writing them! Make it punchy, give it some character, treat it like part of the story, not just a book report. A fic for a serialized show or podcast, for instance, could have a blurb written in the style of the show's “previously on” or the podcast's intro.  Make sure the blurb gives the reader something they can't just get from the tags—like the personality of your writing, important context or characterization, or a sense of the shape of the story—but don't try to skimp on the tags to do it!
Really, the only way to minimize the potential problems with excerpts is to be very mindful in selecting them. Make sure the portion you've chosen conveys the who, what, and under what circumstances and isn't too long.  You know the story; what seems clear and obvious from the excerpt to you might not be apparent to someone who doesn't already know what happens, so you might need to ask a friend to double check you.
The absolute best way to provide a summary that works for everybody is to combine both methods. It really isn't that hard to stick a brief excerpt before your blurb, or tack a couple lines of blurb after your excerpt, but it can make a world of difference for how useful and inviting your summary is to a particular reader. The convention for summaries that use both is excerpt first, then blurb.
If you're struggling to figure out a summary, or have been in the habit of not providing one, try not to stress over it. Anything is better than nothing.  As long as you've written something for a summary, you've given the reader a little more to help them make their decision. What really isn't helpful, though, is saying “I'm bad at summaries” in your summary. It's a lot like the “I'm Bad At Tagging” tag in that it's unnecessarily self depreciating, frequently comes across as an excuse not to try, and sometimes really is just an excuse. Unlike the “I'm Bad At Tagging” tag, which has the tiny saving grace of warning readers you've probably missed something, saying you're bad at summaries has no utility at all, and may drive away a reader who thought your summary was quite good, but is uncomfortable with the negative attitude reflected by that statement. Summaries are hard. It's okay if you don't like your summary, but it's important for it to be there, and it's important to be kind to yourself about it. You're trying, that's what matters.
Author's Notes
Author's notes are the one place where we, the writers, directly address and initiate contact with our readers. We may also talk to them in the comments section, but that's different because they initiate that interaction while we reply, and comments are mostly one-on-one while in author's notes we're addressing everyone who ever reads our fic.
The very first note on a fic should contain any information, such as warnings or explanations, that a reader needs to see before they get to the body of the story, as well as anything like thanks to your beta, birthday wishes to a character, or general hellos and announcements you want readers to see before they get to the body of the story. On multi-chapter fics, notes at the beginning of chapters serve the same function for that chapter as the initial note on the fic does for the whole story, so you can do things like warn for Self-Harm on the two chapters out of thirty where it comes up, let everyone know your update schedule will be changing, or wish your readers a merry Christmas, if they celebrate it, on the chapter you posted on December 23rd but is set in mid-March.
Notes at the end of a fic or chapter are for things that don't need to be said or are not useful to a reader until after they've read the preceding content, such as translations for that handful of dialogue that's in Vulcan or Portuguese, or any parting greetings or announcements you want to give, like a thanks for reading or a reminder school is starting back so you won't be able to write as much. End notes are the best place to plug your social media to readers if you're inclined to do so, but remember that cannot include payment platforms like Patreon or Ko-fi.
As previously mentioned, warnings can go in end notes but that really should only be done when the warnings are particularly long, such that the length might cause a problem for readers who are already confident in their comfort level and would just want to scroll past the warning description. In that case, the additional warnings need to go in the note at the end of the first chapter, rather than at the end of the fic, if it's a multi-chapter fic; and you need to include an initial note telling readers that warnings/explanations of tags are at the bottom so they know to follow where the Archive tells them to see the end of the chapter/work for “more notes.”
When posting a new work, where the Preface section gives you the option to add notes “at the beginning” or “at the end” or both, if you check both boxes, it means notes at the beginning and end of the entire fic, not the beginning and end of the first chapter. For single-chapter fics this difference doesn't really matter, but for multi-chapter fics it matters a lot. In order to add notes to the beginning or end of the first chapter of a multi-chapter fic you have to first go through the entire process to post the new fic, then go in to Edit, Edit Chapter, and add the notes there.
Series and Chapters
Dealing with Series and Chapters is actually two different issues, but they're closely related and cause some of us mixups, especially when we're new to the site and its systems, so we're going to cover them together.
Series on Ao3 are for collecting up different stories that you've written that are associated with each other in some way. Chapters are for dividing up one story into parts, usually for pacing and to give yourself and your readers a chance to take breaks and breathe, rather than trying to get through the entire thing in a single marathon sitting (not that we won't still do that voluntarily, but it's nice to have rest points built in if we need them).
If your story would be one book if it was officially published, then it should be posted as a single fic—with multiple chapters if it's long or has more than one distinct part, like separate vignettes that all go together. If you later write a sequel to that fic, post it as a new fic and put them together in a series. It's exactly like chapters in a book and books in a series. Another way to think of this structure is like a TV show: different fics in the series are like different seasons of the show, with individual chapters being like episodes.
If you have several fics that all take place in the same AU but really aren't the same story those should go together as a series.  If you wrote a story about a superhero team re-cast as school teachers, then wrote another story about different characters in the same school, that's this situation.
Series are also the best way to handle things like prompt games, bingos, or Kinktober, or collect up one shots and drabbles especially if your various fills, entries, and drabbles are for more than one fandom. If you put everything for a prompt game or bingo, or all your drabbles, together as one fic with a different chapter for each story, what ends up happening is that fic gets recognized by the Archive as a crossover when it isn't, so it gets excluded from the results pages for everyone who told the filters to Exclude Crossovers even though one of the stories you wrote is exactly what they're looking for; and that fic ends up with tons and tons of wildly varying and self-contradictory tags because it's actually carrying the tags for several entirely different, possibly unrelated stories, which also means it ends up getting excluded from results pages because, for instance, one out of your thirty-one Kinktober entries is about someone's NoTP.
Dividing these kinds of things up into multiple fic in a series makes it so much easier for readers to find what of your work they actually want to read.
If you've previously posted such things as a single fic, don't worry, it's a really common misunderstanding and there is absolutely nothing stopping you from reposting them separately. You may see traffic on them go up if you do!
Parting Thoughts
Metatext is ultimately all about communication, and in this context effective communication is a matter of responsibility and balance.
Ao3 is our archive. It's designed for us, the writers, to have the freedom to write and share whatever stories we want without having to worry that we'll wake up one day and find our writing has been deleted overnight without warning.  That has happened too many times to so many in our community as other fanfic sites have died, been shut down, or caved to threats of legal action. Ao3 is dedicated to defending our legal right to create and share our stories. Part of the deal is that, in exchange for that freedom and protection, we take up the responsibility to communicate to readers what we're writing and who it's appropriate for.
We are each other's readers, and readers who don't write are still part of our community. We have a responsibility as members of this community to be respectful of others in our shared spaces.  Ao3 is a shared space. The best way we have to show each other respect is to give one another the information needed to decide if a given fic is something we want to engage with or not, and then, in turn, to not engage with fic that isn't our cup of tea. As long as our fellow writer has been clear about what their fic is, they've done their part of the job. If we decided to look at the fic despite the information given and didn't like what we found, then that's on us.
Because metatext is how we put that vital information about our fics out in the community, it's important that our metatext is clear and easy to parse. The key to that is balance. Striking the balance between putting enough tags to give a complete picture and not putting too many tags that become an unreadable wall; the balance between the urge to be thorough and tag every character and the need to be restrained so those looking for fics actually about a certain character can find them; the balance between using established tags for clarity and ease and making up our own tags for specificity and fun.
Do your best, act in good faith, remember you're communicating with other people behind those usernames and kudos, and, most importantly, have fun with your writing!
4K notes ¡ View notes
winter-fox-queen ¡ 3 years
Text
I only have my self to blame...
Frankie Morales x you fic 
Tags:  A lot of cursing.  So much cursing.  Drug use.  Angst.  
Summary:  I kept thinking about the coke rap they mention in the story.  And I thought, what if Frankie was innocent?  So most of this is about that, with a tense change so that when the reader enters the picture, it’s “you” -- no y/n.
I have never written a fic before.  I am no nervous AT ALL.  But I wanted to give something back, even though it’s not really romantic.  I logged into my laptop so I could use cuts.  XD  I am ashamed at how long it took me to remember my password.
2,083 words.
It was, really, a bullshit coke rap, but it was still Frankie’s fault.  He was flying one of the boss’s nicer planes, a pretty little Cessna Caravan, fitted out for luxury in the back, a curtain separating the pilot from the main cabin.  The curtain was partly folded back, so the rich folks in the cabin behind him with their booze, lounging in their leather seats don’t have to stare at the back of Frankie’s tousled, ball cap covered head.  
It also meant that he could hear what they were saying, the headset over one ear was quiet, but he’d already decided they were a bag of dicks and he wasn’t going to pay attention to them, as they laughed like a bunch of frat boys behind him.  There was a mirror, angled so he could see what was going on, and once in awhile he’d look.  There were five men and one woman, the men acting like a bunch of frat boys, the woman trying to pretend she was amused.
Frankie knew, of course, that the trouble was men like that made that secret chip on his shoulder come out. The one he tried to ignore.  Because I’m better than that, right?  They ain’t got nothing that I want.  But they did.  They didn’t have to worry about money…they didn’t have a new baby to worry about, they didn’t have to play the game of if-I-pay-this-bill-I-can-pretend-I-didn’t-get-that-one.  He was tired, worried about his lady, scared that he was going to fucking fail her, fail their little girl, Luna.  
He let out a long, pent up sigh.  He itched to put on some music, was considering it when the shuffle of curtain fabric told him he was no longer alone.
The sole woman from the back gave him a shy smile.  “Do you mind? They’re acting like idiots back there.” She had a stylish, blunt cut, a white button shirt and a short, black skirt.  Everything was fitted perfectly so the clothes molded against her.  It looked polished rather than cheap.  He smiled politely  and shrugged as she arranged herself gracefully into the copilot chair.
“So, you said your name was Frankie?”  She reached out with a foot and nudged his chair.  She’d shed her high heels, and, despite the shortness of her skirt was gathering her legs under her.  
Lady, you might as well have a danger sign around your neck.  He nodded, feeling a little out of his depth.  
“Macey.  Pleasure to meet you.  You been a pilot long?”
He nodded.
“You don’t speak much, do you?”  She was flirty enough that even he, usually captain obvious, caught on.
He gave her a sidelong look. “I’m trying to figure out how to slip the face I have a wife and kid into the conversation.”  Wife was a stretch.  He wanted to marry you, he dreamed about it.  He wanted to give you everything – a nice ring, a pretty dress. A day to be a be special, to feel loved. Proof to all your  friends and family that he could take care of you, that he was worthy.  He was scraping up money, setting it aside.  If he didn’t go for a diamond, maybe he could get her something else nice. Maybe an opal.  Opal rings couldn’t be that expensive, right?
She laughed.  “Sorry.  I’m bored.” She held up a hand.  “Scout’s honor, I will do nothing to hurt your marriage.”
He gave her a grin.  “Well, then, tell me a story.”
“A story?”
“Yeah.  Once we touch down in…”  He looked at the time “About two hours, we won’t see each other again. So tell me a story.  Something you’ve always wanted to tell someone, but you couldn’t.”
She arched an eyebrow provocatively.
“Not like that, not a secret.  Just a story you want to tell.  Can be anything, I don’t care.”
She looked bemused for a second.  Then she starts, haltingly, as if she’s never had t actually make real conversation.  As if she’s never had anyone to listen to her.  And the thing is, she’s funny.  Clever. He finds himself laughing as he does his thing, even throwing back a couple of smart remarks of his own.  She has a gift of making him feel like he has a wicked sense of humor, and for a little bit, the cares he’s been harboring fall silent.  
So does the cabin behind him, once.  He has a mirror, set low, so he can see behind him.  The ringleader of the group is glaring at him, not looking too happy.
Well, fuck him. What can he do?  
A lot, apparently.
They land, and Macey gets up to go out the back.  “Thanks, Frankie.  Good luck with everything.”
“You, too, thanks for passing the time with me,” he says, and sets about the tasks.  He checks gauges, writes things down, and finally, goes back and checks over the cabin.  He gets out a basin from a cabinet and puts the used rocks glasses in it.  He won’t wash them – he’ll just dump the basin on the sideboard inside the hanger.  He doesn’t have to do the cleaning, but Allie, the janitor who usually cleaned up the planes, had hurt her back and everything, like picking up candy bar wrappers and throwing them away, checking the seats to see if anything had been left behind was an extra chore she did not need.
The plastic baggy was almost invisible against the beige leather of the seats.  He picked it up, made a shocked little huff, like he’d put his hand on a snake.  Coke. A pretty good amount of it, too. The old craving raised its head, making his hand shake a little.  He heard voices, and shoved the baggy in his pocket.  I’ll pitch it.  He had to take a leak, anyway, he’d go, flush that garbage down the toilet, and there. Done.  He wasn’t that man any more.  It was the one thing he could do for you.
He grabbed the waste basket and put it next to the door, grabbed the tub of glasses and put it under his arm.
“Frankie?  You in there?”
“Yeah, boss…coming.”  Snagging the clipboard to put on top of the glasses so he’d have a free hand if he needed it, he went down the steps and onto the tarmac.
Hector stood there, hands in his pockets, looking ore hang dog than usual.  “Yeah, boss?”
“The passengers said you were flying high, Frankie.”
That stopped him dead, like to concussion from a bomb, hitting his face and chest and taking out the air in his lungs.  “What? No, I’d never…”  
“They said that they saw you – just before take off.  And you know, I don’t want to believe it, but looking at your eyes…they do look awful red.”
“I’ve been up late with Luna.  She’s not been sleeping that great, and I can’t leave it all on…”
Hector nodded, as if he believed him, but Frankie had a feeling he didn’t.  He’d give real money to know exactly what the fuck had been said. “Turn out your pockets, Frankie.”
You jackass.    He attacked himself.  Did you really think they just accidentally left that much coke behind? You fucking jackass.  “I found some shit they left behind, but you gotta believe me, Hector, I am clean.  I’ve been clean for a couple years now.”
“Just show me your pockets, son, then we can just leave this behind.”
He took the coke out. “I told you, I found it on the plane.”
Hector shook his head, and started to walk away.  
“Look, I’ll take a test.” He jogged a little, caught the other man’s arm.  “Seriously. You can watch to make sure I’m not cheating.  You’ll see. I’m clean.  I’ll take a drug test right now.”
“You just happened to find a baggy of coke?  That the passengers happened to leave behind?  And why would they accuse you, if it’s not true?”
Frankie dropped his hand. I guess you wouldn’t believe me if I said some asshole thought I was flirting with his girl and thought he’d get back at me…hell, I’m not sure I believe it.
“I’ll be reporting you. They’ll suspend you.  Maybe they will go easy on you, you being a Vet and this being your first offense…but you need to clean out your locker.  I’ll write a check for what we owe you.”
“I…I need this job.” He could hear an edge of pleading in his voice, and he hated it, but he’d go down on his fucking knees and beg if he had to.
Hector’s eyes hardened. “And I don’t need to send a druggie up in one of my planes.”
**
Frankie took the back roads home.  There was an old farm gate, a place where he could pull off the road and stare, blindly, at overgrown fields.  
“What am I gonna do?” He whispered, over and over, like a mantra.  “What am I gonna fucking do?”  His hands clutched the steering wheel, knuckles white.  He could barely breathe, and when the words wouldn’t come he just sat there, panting, beating his head against the steering when and wondering how he’d survive this.
When his breathing steadied, he got back on the road, and went home.  It was the only thing he could do.
You knew something was wrong, he could see it, but he wasn’t being exactly subtle, pressing his spine against the doorframe like he was ready to run.
“Hey baby,” you say, and he smiles a little.  Tries, anyway.
“Where’s Luna?”  He’s surprised how hoarse his voice is.  He shouldn’t be.  He’d been in some bad situations, but he’d never felt this a drift, this terrified.
“Laying down.”  You say it sweetly, like everything is OK.  You’re cooking bread in the over, something’s in the crock pot and everything smells like home and like everything left to lose.
You lean against the sink. If you reached out, you could almost touch him, but you don’t.  There’s a look in your eyes, like Frankie is a wild animal, easily spooked and so you’re going to move slow and careful.
“I lost my job.”  He says it so quietly he’s not sure you heard, until your shoulders drop a little.  
“Oh, honey, what happened?” No recrimination.  Not yet.  You take a step closer to him.
So he tells you.  He doesn’t lie, just lays it all out there.  Not looking at you, not daring to, instead staring at the refrigerator door and all the magnets and photos and clutter.  But seeing them, either.
“He didn’t believe you?” You practically shriek it out.  “What the fuck…you’ve been an awesome employee for what?  A year and a half now  and he wouldn’t even let you take a damned test to let you prove yourself? Seriously?  I’m going to kick his ass…”
The baby monitor interrupts her, Luna making fitful little noises.  After all, the house was not that big.  You hold a finger up to Frankie.  “Hold that thought.”  You leave the kitchen, shaking your head, and Frankie stands there, feeling like he’s on the edge of the precipice.  
“Ah, Luna, baby, what’s wrong?”  He can hear you, a much gentler, sweeter voice echoing out of the monitor.  He stands over it, hands clutching the counter on either side of it, listening.  You are both everything to him.  Everything.
He listens to you say nonsense as you change the little baby, to you muttering about how such a tiny, adorable thing can smell so bad.  “You must get it from your daddy,”  you say a little louder, as if you know Frankie is there, listening, and he grins a little.
He doesn’t move, when you come back out into the kitchen, when you wrap your arms around him.  You hug him tight and he starts to feel a little less adrift.  
He turns, looks down into your eyes.  “You believe me?”  Puts his arms around you carefully, like he’s still not sure of his reception, because he still doesn’t feel like he deserves this, the right to touch you.  
You reach up and cradle his cheek.  “Always, mi vida.  Always.” And he starts shaking, and he starts crying and he buries his face in your neck so you can’t see, and you toss aside the ball cap so you can stroke his hair.  “It’s going to be alright, honey.  We’ll figure it out.  Its going to be alright.”
72 notes ¡ View notes
ladykissingfish ¡ 3 years
Text
Halloween with the Akatsuki
Konan
Dress-up isn’t really for her, and neither is going out to join in any festivities. She prefers to go the homemade treats and scary movie route, staying either by herself or with her fellow Akatsuki members who think the same way. She’s the one who will decorate the house (often with Tobi’s help) with orange and purple lights, hanging ghosts and witches, and an entirely too-real-looking scarecrow. Might decide to wear some spooky-printed pajamas and/or a matching robe. Also makes herself of use to anyone who’s dressing up and needs help applying face paint or makeup. She also stays up the latest to ensure that those who do go out make it home safe and sound, although she doesn’t tell anyone that this is why she’s still awake.
Deidara and Hidan:
Normally these two don’t get along (to put it mildly) and avoid each other like the plague. However, on Halloween, it’s a different story. These two are the youngest in the Akatsuki and therefore much more into the “holiday spirit” than the others. They’ll help each other with costumes (Hidan figures that his normal getup/ritual black and white paint is scary enough, and Deidara will dress as a literal “bang”; bright, flashy clothing ((definitely with a cape)) with small handmade explosives set to go off at regular intervals). Deidara will likely be made to take Tobi trick or treating during the early hours of the evening, and Hidan will tag along; not because he likes candy but because he figures the sugar will give him a needed boost of energy for the rest of the evening. Once Deidara finishes with Tobi, he and Hidan will set out for some greater fun. Haunted houses are their favorite; they can separate themselves from the crowd and hide within the exhibits, to scare the bejesus out of everyone else. Deidara can throw as many bombs as he wants ((and at point-blank range)), and Hidan can lure countless unsuspecting sacrifices people into the darkness; and the best part of it? Everyone thinks it’s just part of the show. It’s only when the others realize that the “fake blood” and “fake dead bodies” aren’t so fake that they decide to dip out. Likely to end the night sneaking Kakuzu’s sake from his room, getting completely shit-faced, eating ALL of Tobi’s candy (which he’ll cry about to no end in the morning), then passing out face-down on the floor. Will have to be dragged to their own rooms by Sasori and Kakuzu, and in the morning Kakuzu will be as loud as humanly possible to punish the two hungover idiots for stealing his alcohol.
Tobi
A holiday whose sole purpose is to get as much free candy as possible? Sign. Him. The FUCK. Up. He doesn’t really bother with much of a costume (after all he’s already wearing a mask that greatly resembles a lollipop) but might adorn it with a set of cat ears and tail. He’ll beg his senpai to take him trick or treating (which will be refused at first because “You’re a grown man for fuck’s sake, hm!”, but then Pein and Konan will use some “gentle persuasion” on the blonde until Tobi’s wish is granted). He’s thorough with it; he’s had Zetsu infiltrate houses for weeks beforehand to find out who has what candy, so he knows the best route to take. When he’s done (or rather when Deidara’s patience has run out) he’ll go back to the hideout and start eating his hard-earned treats. But not too much; because Konan is also making pumpkin and ghost shaped cookies and green-dyed hot chocolate. Will end the night watching scary movies (during which he’ll hide behind a pillow) with Konan and Kakuzu (Kakuzu insists the movies are boring but for some reason he has yet to leave the room). Sometimes accidentally slips into Obito voice when talking about how much he “gets” Michael Myers. 9/10 will fall asleep and be covered with a blanket to stay on the couch. Also 9/10 will wake up to find his candy gone because of senpai and the jerk Hidan, and will sob about it until Deidara caves and goes out and buys him several bagfuls of (now conveniently discounted) Halloween candy.
Kakuzu
Likes to answer the door for trick or treaters, but instead of candy he’ll give out what he feels is “more helpful”. Like, pamphlets on how to start a 401k, or advice on what stocks are a good investment, or tips how to save the most when shopping at the grocery store. Most children are unappreciative of the old grouch’s “treats”, however, and the Akatsuki house always ends up heavily egged and TP’d. But hey ... that means free eggs ((the ones that aren’t too damaged, anyway)) and free toilet paper: win-win. When not answering the door, he joins some of the others in their “scary” movie fest. Not because he thinks the flicks are in anyway scary ((to him they seem more like comedies)) but he likes to analyze the actions of the main characters to see how and where they went wrong; good practice for future missions.
Pein
Thinks the “holiday” is utterly pointless, but gives his blessing for the others to indulge in in however they see fit.
Zetsu
This is the night of the year that Zetsu brings in the most revenue to the Akatsuki. He scopes out what places are having costume contests with cash prizes, and he enters, and literally always wins first place. Nobody can figure out how he “made” a costume so wonderfully realistic, with the unique dual skin-tone and the lush foliage. This is also a good time for him to indulge in sweet treats ... and NOT the candy kind. Lots of dumb teenagers like to wander out to the woods and have Halloween parties; their exuberance and intoxication lets them see Zetsu as just another guy with an awesome get-up. Getting one or two or ten of them away from the group is child’s play, and devouring them? Easier than taking candy from a Tobi. Sometimes will take a severed hand or foot and enter ANOTHER contest as a carnivorous Venus fly trap.
Itachi and Kisame
Neither of these two like to go out, so they spend time at the house together. Kisame goes out the day before and raids a pumpkin patch, and the two spend a good part of Halloween evening expressing their “artistic” sides on different jack-o-lanterns ((which will be mercilessly criticized by Deidara)). Kisame’s masterpiece is Samehada at his strongest and Itachi’s is the portrait of who he SAYS is himself as a younger man ((but is clearly that little brother of his)). Kisame is not a fan of candy, but Itachi is, so Tobi will bring him a large handful of his own to share. They will abandon their customary tea and biscuits for warm apple cider and whatever confectionary delight Konan is making. Might also join the others for scary movies at some point. Most Halloween’s end up with Deidara and Hidan coming back to the house very late, drinking too much, and falling asleep. This might be the ONLY time Itachi ever initiates an act of aggression against them, as he takes advantage of their out-of-it states to put each of their hands in a cup of warm water ((a trick he learned from Hidan himself)) and letting nature (and overfilled bladders) take its course. Kisame sees him doing this and laughs himself sick; it always amuses him when he sees his partner drop his ultra-serious nature and let loose like a normal young person.
Sasori
It’s always been said of Halloween for sweet-consumers to be aware of what they’re eating, as many unscrupulous people out there can hide poison in the candy. Sasori is that person who parents warn their kids about. However, Sasori doesn’t direct his malice towards children; rather, adults. He concocts a variety of poisons, sleeping agents and other horrors, laces candy or apples with it, and has his secret subordinates in other villages pass them out to pre-selected individuals ((usually people that the redhead has some sort of grudge against)). Sasori keeps careful track of his lab rats by sending small, drone-like puppets out to observe them, and record their reactions from time of consumption to whatever end comes for them. This research greatly helps him in terms of future poison preparations. If particularly bored, he’ll dress up some of his larger puppets in terrifying attire, and send them out in the darkness to stalk and frighten the life out of young trick-or-treaters. He’s likely to join some of the others who watch movies, or, if he’s in time to catch Deidara after the blonde passes out from his night of fun, he’ll take a marker and write “Art is Eternal” across his face ... in multiple languages.
70 notes ¡ View notes
miracle-sham ¡ 3 years
Text
Die Like the Butterfly Shoot With Their Guns.
| {Jasonette July 2021, Week 2, Day 7: Guns} |
Chapter 1 of Sheltered by Darkness not yet Moths to the Flame.
| [Ao3 Link] | | [Masterlist Link] | | [Spotify Playlist Link] | | [Chapter 2] |
———
| Sometimes a family can be a gang comprised of eleven vigilantes, and their AI robot, fighting against the father of one of their own. |
| Or alternatively: after falling through the cracks, they do what they must to survive. And if that means committing crimes in order to bring down the Big Butterfly and all the other corrupt businesses in the city, then so be it. |
———
| Tonight's the night. Half of them will strike one of the Big Butterfly's warehouses that just so happens to contain some fancy new gun tech. Besides, it'll be in better hands with them than the Big Butterfly or his associates. Now all that matters, is that nothing goes wrong! |
| Word Count: 3,322. |
| Warnings/Tags: Cyberpunk/Criminal/Gang Au, Explicit Language/Swearing, Hacking, Breaking and Entering, Theft, Mentions of Bombs and Guns, Mentions of corrupt/shady businesses, Fluff, Gang/Team as family/family dynamics, Found Family. |
———
| A/N: It is Cyberpunk Au time! This is a twoshot, so have a looksy to see if you can find all the snippets of foreshadowing I've set! Also this is mostly Action/Fluff but beware of the warnings regardless. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy! |
| Also side note, Don’t Like? Don’t Read. Also also, please do not criticise any of my writing. This was written for fun and receiving criticism, even in a compliment/criticism sandwich, is the exact opposite of fun. |
———
Rain patters against the concrete, sound mixing with the low hum and high buzz of electricity. The ground is slick with murky puddles that never seem to clean the pavement. Still just as filthy as before, permanently dyed with dried bloodstains, mud stains, electric scorch marks, and far worse. The air is heavy with the smell of cigarette smoke, ozone, and that ever underlying decay that clings to the city.
It's dark—dead of night—but the streets are awash with flickering neon lights. There are a few others haunting the street though most of them are sticking to the areas of light, avoiding the shadows.
Which is where Marinette, also known as the ruthless gang leader FantĂ´minou, is lurking.
Jason—Red Hood, her co-leader—snarls as he drops down onto the shadowed fire escape beside her. “We've got a rat. Someone's tipped off the big Butterfly and security has been increased around the perimeter. Most likely interior security increased too.”
Fantôminou flexes her glowing clawed gauntlets, “I suppose we should check in with our local pied piper, before we strike, hmm?”
There's a bzzt in her earpiece as the channel is hijacked by the familiar voice of their gang's hacker, Max aka Raijack. “I wouldn't worry about that if I were you, our pied piper has already been contacted. Whoever they were, they didn't reveal which location we were targeting, so it's just a general security increase.”
She hums. “Raijack, link us up with the rest of the strike force.”
“Got it, 'Minou.” He responds, and not a split second later, the earpiece makes another bzzt and there's the faint ping of the rest of the channel being alerted at someone joining.
“Look, I think you could totally pull off the—oh, who just joined the channel?” Adrien, Cheval Mallet, asks in surprise.
“Just me and our anthill tiger.” Red Hood announces, snorting at the glare Fantôminou sends him.
Silence echoes across the line before a scrabble of hushed but excited voices causes a ruckus.
Fantôminou sighs, “I know we're all excited to hit the big Butterfly hard by stealing some of their new fancy gun tech. But let's leave the yelling for when we inevitably set off the alarms!”
“Hey!” Raijack protests. “I'll have you know I have produced a new virus that has a ninety-eight per cent chance of not setting off any alarms!”
Red Hood rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, but you've still not worked out how to get your viruses to deactivate the bombs in the crates yet, huh?”
“I will one day, until then it's your job to stop the bombs from triggering the rest of the alarms!” Raijack counters with a huff.
Fantôminou sighs again, this time with an added sprinkling of are-you-kidding-me. “Red Hood, Raijack. I can and will kick your asses if you do not shut up so we can discuss final prep before we begin the pesticide protocol.”
Bumping shoulders with her, Red Hood snorts again. “I've got nothing against being beat up by someone as pretty and buff as you Minou, you know that!”
“Oh, I think we can all agree to wanting to get crushed by Minou's guns.” Cheval Mallet pipes up once more.
Fantôminou sighs very wearily. “Nevermind, are you all ready?”
Red Hood salutes at her, and despite his mouth being covered, it's easily telling that he's grinning cockily underneath. “I'm ready. My guns are ready, and I've got the bomb defusal kit at the ready.”
“I may be holding my horses but I'm saddled to giddy-up on the go!” Cheval Mallet cheerfully announces.
“This has to be one of your worst attempts at horse puns yet.” Raijack comments, “otherwise, I'm in position and ready to hack on your call, Minou.”
Red Hood exchanges a glance with Fantôminou as silence falls over the earpiece channel. “Hold up, where's Arsenal? Shouldn't he have checked in by now?”
Taking his hand gently, FantĂ´minou gives it a reassuring squeeze.
“He already did but because you two had your issues getting into position and avoiding the unexpected police patrol, Arsenal had to deal with another issue that popped up which would've threatened our plan,” Raijack informs, sounding nonplussed.
“Well, you don't sound concerned.” Fantôminou points out the obvious. “Has he got back up?”
There's the faint tapping of a keyboard through the earpiece channel before Raijack responds, “Chèvrapide is on her way to back him up, don't worry.”
“Then that's everyone accounted for. Let's rock and roll.” Red Hood orders, dropping from the fire escape and landing in the rain-slick alleyway with ease, conveniently right beside the hoverbike they had stashed here.
Fantôminou hops down after him, except she manages to flip and expertly land in the driver's seat. “I'm driving Jay, you're the one with the guns after all,” she all but states, putting one gauntleted hand up and flexing just to hammer in the point, “I'm close range only right now and you know it.”
Red Hood throws his hands up in mock surrender. “Hey! I'd never complain about getting to watch you drive this beauty of a hoverbike.”
Fantôminou snorts. “Just get on, pretty bird!”
“Well, if you say so, pretty kitty!” Red Hood teases back, vaulting onto the back of the bike behind her. He wraps an arm around her waist and rests the other hand on his sheathed-for-now gun.
She revs the engine of the hoverbike and steers out of the alleyway with practised ease. There's no directions on the hoverbike's holoscreen, but it's not like they need any—the directions to where they need to be outside the warehouse have already been memorised by each and every one of them.”
Down the left street, take the right at the T junction, pass under the flyover street, then take a further two lefts and then straight on until the block of office buildings forming a protective extra layer between the warehouse electric razor wire tipped fencing and the road. Easy.
“All networks in the office buildings have temporarily shut down. As far as the tech will be concerned, it'll look like the networks just decided to not work today.” Raijack announces through the earpiece channel, voice coming through slightly more robotic than usual.
“So no security cams?” Fantôminou checks cautiously, circling like a hawk around the small stretch of street between her and the office building she and Jason will be entering through. The rain has slowed to a drizzle but that doesn't make the circling in it any less mildly uncomfortable, at least inside it'll be dry.
There's the familiar clack of keys once more. “Not quite, they're a little harder to crack than entering in through the backdoor via someone's unprotected webcam in the office. Thank you, Shodan.” Raijack pauses, keys continuing to clack in the background. “Unfortunately, the Big Butterfly's got tech security smart enough to keep the security system on a closed network so I can't hop from webcam to computer to network to cams. However, they didn't account for Markov, suckers!”
Red Hood snorts. “Isn't Markov a little obvious for this kinda mission?”
“Oh, did I forget to tell you?” Raijack says, in a voice that very clearly conveys he didn't forget so much as purposefully neglected to mention, “I recently upgraded Markov, outfitting him with the currently most highly advanced cloaking system. Thanks to some help from Fantôminou's knowledge of cloaking and camouflage fashion.”
Red Hood leans his head onto Fantôminou's shoulder. “I'm hurt, you knew and didn't tell me? I want cloaking guns! Think of how much cooler I'd look with them!”
Fantôminou merely hums in an unamused response. “Raijack wanted it to be a surprise.”
He huffs. “I see who your favourite person in our gang is then!”
“You're right! It's me!” Cheval Mallet cheers, jumping into the conversation.
“Fucking 'ell!” Red Hood curses under his breath. “I thought you were gonna mute whilst getting in position.”
Cheval Mallet's laugh cuts in and out across the earpiece channel. “And when did I hay that!”
“Hacker voice, I'm in!” Raijack interrupts. “Looks like the security system was perfectly untouched by whatever minor error caused the main networks to crash, how lucky. Which is to say, looping is in process, and we now have free entry.”
“Got us a place to park yet, though?” Red Hood asks.
Raijack doesn't immediately respond, but the sound of the garage door connected to the office building opening, is answer enough. “I might.”
Fantôminou snorts. “Thanks, Raijack. Hood and I need to split here right, just until we get past the fencing right?”
“That's right.” Raijack responds, “good luck, and Markov and I will see you all on the other side.”
“Break a leg, or three!” Red Hood calls over the earpiece. “Preferably some else's though!”
Fantôminou pulls the hoverbike into the garage, keeping her gaze ahead. “If I could elbow you without fucking up my parking, I would.”
Red Hood cackles quietly in response, trying to at least keep to the stealth part of the mission plan.
In the blink of an eye, the hoverbike is securely parked. Perfectly hidden in plain sight but easily accessible for a quick and clean getaway should nothing go wrong. And well, if something were to go wrong, there's not going to be any hoverbike left for evidence. Though, that's not to say a small part of FantĂ´minou's brain doesn't anxiously hate how they're practically sitting on top of bombs ready to blow up at the slightest hint of things going wrong. However, they've been through enough strikes like this for the concern to be mostly easily ignored.
———
With the hoverbike parked, FantĂ´minou and Red Hood part ways.
FantĂ´minou heads up through the internal stairwell connected to the garage, whilst Red Hood takes one of the external doors leading to the office building next door.
The stairwell is like any other maintenance stairwell. Grey concrete walls, metal railings and steps. Even FantĂ´minou's light footsteps clang loudly against the ridged metal stairs. It's cold, just as cold as the garage was and barely warmer than it is outside in the rain. The air is stuffy but at least the respirator hidden beneath the bandana wrapped around her mouth makes it bearable to breathe. Other than the aforementioned clanging of steps, and her breathing, FantĂ´minou is alone with the ominous silence of a liminal space.
The stairs stretch on upwards for what seems far longer than it should, but eventually, FantĂ´minou reaches the final steps to the roof entrance door.
The door is unlocked, and so FantĂ´minou opens it as quietly as possible. She walks out into the rain once more and scrunches up her nose. A quick glance of the roof yields no immediate signs of danger or anything of note, so she continues to the edge of the roof.
FantĂ´minou rests one foot on the lip of the roof and flexes her gauntlets, lights switching off for stealth. Carefully, she turns around and crouches on the lip, gauntlets gripping the edge and toes of her boots braced against the wall. Bit by bit she descends, gauntlets making it more than easy to stay attached to the wall.
Two-thirds of the way down, Fantôminou climbs onto a window sill. The fence is only a metre below, with a further four-metre drop. No security drones in sight, yet—but no alarms have been triggered yet either.
A shadow drops down the building and over the fence on the other side of the compound. Not a second later is the double buzz of the earpiece signalling that someone is in position.
Fantôminou smirks beneath her face coverings, not one to be so quickly outdone she leaps forwards in a dive—spinning midair as she begins to plummet. Clearing the razor wire fence with room to spare.
She hits the ground in another diving roll, and immediately uses the momentum to throw herself up and run towards the nearest warehouse building. As soon as she reaches the wall, she double-taps her earpiece to send the double buzz signal to others.
A moment later comes the third double buzz, soon followed by the fourth and final signal.
“Markov is covering our air support.” Raijack's voice clips across the earpiece channel, “Fantôminou, you and Red Hood are on opposite ends of the same warehouse. I've unlocked the doors for you. You know the drill.”
“Thank you, Raijack. Entering now.” Fantôminou responds, she slinks over to the warehouse doors and cautiously pries open the now unlocked door.
FantĂ´minou heads straight for the terminal, and knows Red Hood is doing the same. Slipping Raijack's new and improved virus into one of the terminal's ports. Seconds pass.
“Interface secured,” Raijack informs.
Out of the corner of her eye, she can see Red Hood prowling over to her. She nods to him and taps into the terminal with her gauntlet.
Red Hood readies his bomb defusal kit as she instructs the internal warehouse drones into delivering the goods to them.
The drone, blinking yellow—a sure sign of Raijack's virus in effect—hovers over and drops a large black cased crate before them.
As soon as the claws of the drone release the crate, Red Hood is immediately on it, pulling it open and weeding out the bomb.
They wait with bated breath. Red Hood tinkers away. The earpiece channel is silent as the team focuses.
He hisses through his teeth, and Fantôminou tenses—ready to grab him and run, in the worst case—but he only packs the kit back away and sighs in relief.
He taps the earpiece thrice—signalling success.
Raijack and Cheval Mallet don't respond, so FantĂ´minou and Red Hood stuff their haul into FantĂ´minou's Miraculous, for ease of transport, and begin making their way towards the warehouse the other two were hitting.
By the time they reach the nearest warehouse doors, the earpiece triple buzzes. Success, again.
They pause only to exchange a nod between the two before continuing to meet up with Cheval Mallet and Raijack—no rendezvous needed this time so far.
It takes forty seconds to cross halfway to the other warehouse, where they meet the other two along with Markov in the middle.
Cheval Mallet waves a hand and the five of them skulk over to a small shed off the side of another warehouse. He raises his horseshoe weapon and calls out, “Bon Voyage!”
The portal forms and Markov flies through first. The remaining four exchange glances then bolt forwards, racing to see who can get through first.
The blue light blinds them all for a second, despite how used to the power they are.
“Mission success!” Fantôminou cheers breathlessly once the blue fades, throwing her hands up in celebration.
“WOOH!” Cheval Mallet yells, jumping up and punching the air.
Red Hood snorts, “but more importantly I so won!”
Raijack hums, “let's see what Markov has to say about that.”
Markov makes a series of boops and beeps, yellow LEDs flickering. “Red Hood is correct, he won the portal race.”
“YES!” Red Hood crows.
“Oh come on!” Raijack grumbles.
Footsteps and clapping approaches. “Well done,” Félix praises, “but perhaps leave the celebration until after you've all gotten into jammies.”
Cheval Mallet giggles, “Flicks, I can't believe you can somehow still sound pretentious whilst saying something as childish sounding as "jammies"!”
Félix raises an eyebrow, “you say this every time I call pyjamas that. Now come on, I've ordered pizza and Roy, Alix, Luka, Artemis, Kori, and Bizarro are already waiting for you lot, in the lounge, so we can get the party started.” He turns on his heel and walks out of the utility-changing room.
Markov, as the only one not needing to change, shows the tongue-sticking-out emoji on his LED screen and zooms after FĂŠlix.
Jason, Marinette, Adrien, and Max all start changing out of their gear as quickly as possible.
“Oh no!” Adrien gasps, half undressed, suddenly remembering something. “We forgot to take the motorbikes back!”
Marinette groans, “I knew I was forgetting something!"
Facepalming, Jason sighs. “We were all too caught up in everything going well for once.”
Max snorts. “Oh don't worry! I anticipated this, all it took was a little hacking into our hoverbikes and now they're on autopilot to one of our empty storage bases.”
“Oh. Well, that's good then.” Adrien says, looking a little embarrassed.
“Yeah… anyway come on, we don't want to keep your cousin and the others waiting any longer! They'll eat all the pizza!” Marinette exclaims.
They all finish changing into loungewear and pyjamas just as music starts to play from the lounge and so frantically, they all dash towards it, trying to shove each other out of the way and laughing playfully as they do so.
They've won a battle, they've successfully gotten in and out with a good haul of gun tech. No alarms tripped, nothing went wrong. Hoverbikes undamaged and on the route home. For once, everything went smoothly. And that, is cause for an evening of celebration.
Leaving the worries of the rat for tomorrow.
———
In a dark observatory with a closed butterfly window, a folder is tossed across a desk.
Papillon glances down at the folder with indifference. He rests his elbows on the expensive polished wood and steeples his fingers. “You said you had acquired information that you believe will interest me?”
The man in a black suit sitting opposite Papillon, smiles patiently. “My informant went through quite the lengths to acquire this. Why not take a look inside.”
Papillon purses his lips, “this better not be a waste of my precious time, Lex.”
Lex Luthor raises an eyebrow in amusement. “I assure you, Gabriel, you will find what is inside most interesting.”
There's a moment's pause as Gabriel waits. Nothing happens. He nods and then opens the folder. He spreads the papers inside in arc across the desk. In the middle of the papers, is the photo of a smiling teenage girl with bright blue eyes, and blue-dyed hair. “Marinette Dupain-Cheng?” He reads out, lips curling into a contemplative frown.
“Poor little girl,” Lex croons mockingly, “missing—presumed dead—after her parents' bakery was destroyed in an Akuma attack. Her name should be familiar to you though, won your one-day derby hat competition at her school.”
Gabriel's fingers still mid-steeple, and he moves one hand up to his chin in thought. “Ah yes, I remember that designer. The one with the feather derby whose design was stolen and copied. That signature embroidery was impressive work.” He recounts.
Lex grins, “yes, however most distressingly, it would seem this up and coming star of a designer has lost her glow.”
“How so?” Gabriel responds, furrowing his brows.
“Well you see, my informant has found… evidence, that our poor little designer here fell through the cracks into the shadows after the loss of her parents and bakery. It's rather obvious that the larvae have taken her as their own, some of their masks and clothes fit perfectly with what we know of her unique incorporation of her signature, as well as stitch work.” Lex explains, waving a hand towards the rest of the photographs and documents spread from the folder.
Gabriel frowns and eyes a few of the other papers with interest. “I see, that is most unfortunate.”
“But.” Lex cuts in before Gabriel can say anything more. “I'm well aware you're plenty familiar with fixing larvae with damaged wings and frayed wires. As such, a strange little cold case brimming with potential for your program, would do quite nicely for your collection, wouldn't you say?” Lex insinuates, rising from his seat as he continues, “rescue the poor larvae, craft it a chrysalis, and nurture the Pupa into something radiant. Not unlike what you did with the Macrothylacia Rubi, and your replacement wife.” With that, Lex smiles smugly down at Gabriel and then strides out of the observatory, not giving Gabriel a chance to respond.
And leaving Papillon to the folder and his musings.
———
| Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this little fic! Comments, likes, and reblogs are much appreciated! |
| Behind the Names: FantĂ´minou is a portmanteau of FantĂ´me (Ghost/Phantom) and Minou (Kitty). And she's called that because I thought the Black Footed cat fit her, and they're nicknamed Anthill Tigers. They also have the highest successful hunting rate! |
| Raijack is a portmanteau of Raiju (lightning dragon) and jack plug (the connect-y bit on headphones into a phone for example) but is also a play on the word Hijack. |
| Cheval Mallet is an evil horse spirit that offers rides to weary travellers and kidnaps them. Yes, there is a reason behind this. It's covered in Chap 2 |
| Chèvrapide is a portmanteau of Chèvre (Goat) and Rapide (Fast). |
| Also feel free to send me any comments with any questions you have regarding this fic, I’ll be more than happy to answer! |
| @jasonette-july-event |
20 notes ¡ View notes
luci-in-trenchcoats ¡ 4 years
Text
Home Bound (Part 3)
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Summary: Dean has finally moved out with Sam to Lawrence and is beginning to move on for himself when a chance coincidence changes everything for him...
Masterlist
Pairing: Dean x reader
Word Count: 2,100ish
Warnings: language, angst, injury, mention of character death, mourning, supernatural events
A/N: Written entirely in Dean’s POV. Enjoy the final part!
______
Two Months Later
“Hey,” I said, popping into the kitchen in Lawrence to see Sam and Eileen both eating greasy breakfasts. “Hangover?”
Eileen nodded and squeezed her eyes shut, Sam giving me a careful look. We’d only moved out the week before and he was still watching my every move carefully. 
“A bit. We got plenty of bacon left over,” said Sam.
“Nah. I’m gonna run into town and get some coffee, see if I can find out if any garages or construction crews are hiring,” I said.
“Really?”
“Yeah. I shouldn’t be gone more than a few hours. Want me to pick up anything?” I asked. They shook their heads and I grabbed my keys from the front table. Sam stood up as I put on my jacket and I watched him from down the hall. “Yeah?”
“There’s a garage over on Henderson. Small place. They got an opening,” he said.
“I’ll check it out,” I said. “I’ll be back by lunch.”
Ten minutes later I was parked on a side street and walking along main, hands in my black winter coat Samson had shipped back to me. Sammy had been right on that front. Back when the leviathans were trouncing around with our faces on, his parents had shown him that was the Winchester boy apparently. He said his sister was doing good and he was planning to come out soon to get to know her again. They talked most days and she was staying with her parents, not too terribly far away. He had a sneaking suspicion that she’d snapped and killed the man that took her but the evidence pointed to a home intruder that had hit her on the head and that’s what was causing the memory loss. 
I told him I’d look into it if he wanted but at the moment he was simply happy to have her safe again. And that I was keeping the coat. 
At least I’d convinced him to let me buy him a drink when he did come out for a visit.
I tugged up my collar as a light snow filtered down on the March day and spotted the coffee shop that apparently had the best pie in town. God, I hadn’t had pie in months and I was so looking forward to bringing some home.
It was around nine so the morning rush was gone when I stepped inside, the little bell going off. A few people were eating pastries and sipping on drinks at the tables but there was no line and I walked right up to the counter, taking a look to find something called cinnamon death pie on the menu. Well that was definitely on the list.
“What can I get you?” asked the girl in the baseball cap, her back to me as she wiped up some spilled coffee from the back counter. The voice sounded so familiar and I stared at her, looking her over. She stood and turned around with a smile, my eyes wide. “Coffee? Baked good? It’s all fresh.”
“Y/N?” I said and she smiled again.
“That’s what my name tag says. Wow, you are really attractive,” she said. I kept staring and she shook her head. “I’m sorry, that was...what can I get you?”
“Dean. It’s Dean,” I said. She grabbed an empty cup and jotted down my name at the top, glancing at me. She looked happy and warm and she had no idea who I was. “Um. Black coffee. I’ll take a blueberry and cinnamon death pie to go too.”
“Full pies each?” she asked, marking off the cup.
“Yeah,” I said with a thick swallow.
“The death pie is the bomb. It’s so good on cold wet days like today,” she said. She put in the order and I watched her get my coffee together. Someone brought out two boxed pies in a bag and set it on the front counter. She brought back the coffee and hummed. “Alright. That’ll be fifteen dollars even.”
“Thanks,” I said, handing out the money. I stuffed a fifty in the tip jar and her jaw practically dropped.
“Sir, that’s too much.”
“Take it. Go to school. Buy a house. Go on vacation. Just...be happy,” I said. I grabbed my things and left, ducking out the front door. I skirted around to the alley and leaned against the brick. “Fuck.”
“Dean,” she said. She was standing there in her waist apron and a t shirt, getting soaked and goosebumps covering her arms. 
“Just take the tip,” I said, trying to head down the alley when she caught up and grabbed my arm.
“Before...I thought you knew who I was. You know, the Whiltiston girl that was kidnapped,” she said. 
“What?” I said.
“I know. But...you ever just meet someone and you just have a connection? Some part of you just knows that’s the one? I know I sound nuts but the way you looked at me back there...maybe you understand what I mean,” she said.
Shit. Fucking shit. Exactly what I wanted was right in front me. When I’d finally, finally, just started to have a glimmer of not feeling like crap all the time. My first day out and of course she’s there all happy with a real family and having no idea all the horrible things she’d been through. I’d have to push her away and fast.
“Lady. You’re nuts,” I said. She frowned and bit the inside of her cheek like she did when she was upset and didn’t want anyone to know.
“I know it sounds crazy but you sounded like you knew me or something. I don’t know. I just want to talk to you for five minutes. Please. I don’t remember a lot of stuff so well. I do but there’s all these gaps. It’s like I know you. I don’t but I do. Do you understand?”
Her shirt was soaked through now and she was shaking a bit. I’d have to be mean if I wanted her gone, wanted her to forget the fuck about me.
“No,” I said, stepping up and getting right in her face. “I think you’re crazy. I don’t blame you for whatever it was that you went through but that’s not how the real world is. You’re delusional and you need serious help.”
Her eyes watered a bit and she swallowed.
“I am not crazy. I have head trauma but I am sane. I don’t even show signs of PTSD that’s how little I remember of whatever was done to me. You’re just a cruel person who wants everyone else to be as miserable as you are.”
“Fuck you,” I said. She glared at me and I knew I’d made a mistake. She was still upset but now she was pissed and for Y/N that meant no backing down. “Listen. I-”
She grabbed my collar and kissed me. Hard. After a split second it softened and she moved away, staring at me. I blinked and then she was pounding her fist against my chest.
“What the fuck is wrong with you! You were just gonna leave me here!” she said, hitting me a few times before she was kissing me again. She slid her hand down and rested her head against me, taking deep breaths. “Dean Winchester I could kick your ass right now.”
“You remember?” I asked. She nodded and looked at me. I squeezed her way too tight, hearing the gasp of air escape her as I picked her up. I set her down after a moment, shaking my head at her.
“How…” I said and she smiled.
“You know my evil parents? Apparently the witch that gave them those powers or taught them at least...she put a little curse on them. If they used their powers to harm a child and that child died before them, they’d die not too long after. A few months was all. When my old piece of shit father croaked, I came back very confused. We know that witch, De. Red head. Queen of Hell. We might be friends with her and she always was leery of people hurting kids I guess so Ro had my back I guess. I think she did magic so I wouldn’t say anything on accident to the cops.”
“So you’re okay?” I asked.
“Oh, I’m livid with you for nearly walking away from me but I’ll get over it,” she said. She shivered and I set the bag and coffee down on the ground, taking off my jacket and tugging it over her. “I like your coat.”
“Your brother gave it to me.”
“You know Sunny?” you asked. I cocked my head and she smiled. “Samson? We call him Sunny cause son.”
“Yeah. He picked me up when I woke up in the middle of Colorado. We never did quite figure out why I came back or why there.”
“It’s not a coincidence my brother was the one who happened to find you,” she said.
“No, I don’t think so either.”
“When did you come back?”
“January 8th, about midnight. I had a dislocated shoulder.”
“I dislocated my shoulder that night. I slipped on some ice when I was coming home from a late dinner with my parents. You know it took the fake dad two months to die after I had. January 8th was two months exactly after I came back.”
“You think I came back because you did?”
“I don’t know. Apparently I can still tell you’re my person even with no memories. It’s sounding more likely. We can always ask Rowenna.”
“Yes, dearie,” she said, suddenly beside us both. Y/N jumped into my side and I wrapped my arms around her. “Sorry. If I’d known...I’m a different witch now. You’re both fine. You could have called though Winchester and I would have cleared this up. Also, that smells delicious and I’m taking it.”
She bent down and took the pies before disappearing, Y/N starting to giggle.
“She took my pie!” I said.
“She did kind of bring us both back,” said Y/N. “Come on. I’ll get you some more.”
She grabbed my hand and walked me back inside, ducking behind the counter in the back. Ten minutes later she walked out with three pie boxes, her coat on and mine tucked under her arm.
“I told them I’m not feeling well,” she said, handing me the coat. I put it on and took the bag in one hand, using the other to take her hand. We walked down the street aways until we got back to Baby and she slid in the passenger seat. “There’s forks in the bag too.”
“Come here,” I said as I sat down behind the wheel, setting the bag in the back for the moment. I moved over and pulled her into my lap, brushing off a bit of melting snow from her cheek. “Don’t go away again.”
“You were ready to walk away not ten minutes ago.”
“Because I thought you’d be better off not knowing about everything you’d been through,” I said. She smiled, that soft little smile that always made me feel better.
“Some parts were bad. But it wasn’t all terrible. Some parts were really, really good,” she said. She kissed my cheek and bumped her nose to mine. “I’ll take it all if it means I get to love you again. I don’t want to ever forget that I love you, Dean.”
“Me either,” I said, holding onto her tight. “I don’t know what we’re gonna do now but you’re not going anywhere.”
“Good,” she said. She was quiet, tucking her face in my neck and I smiled for the first time in months. She was happy and safe and mine again. “Want to drive to the park and eat pie in the backseat like we used to on rainy days?”
“Absolutely, sweetheart. That sounds like the best day ever. I’m so happy you came home to me.”
“Me too, Dean. Me too.”
________
185 notes ¡ View notes
elysianecho ¡ 4 years
Text
Steve Rogers is a Klutz™
Summary: Getting shot by mobsters and finding Captain America and Spiderman on a roof in the span of one week is weird. 
Getting shot, meeting two Avengers, getting helped by one of those Avengers, and then meeting the rest of the gang?
"What is my life coming to?”
Pairing: Steve Rogers x cop!Reader
Warnings: Swearing, some blood, reader being stalked, mentions of gunfights, people falling off ladders. I think that’s everything? Let me know if I’ve missed something!
Word Count: 6593
A/N: This is might make it on time. This is a smidge late. I’m SOOOOO sorry, Anika! Please forgive me. Life is dumb. 
Anyway! This is for @anika-ann​’s 500 Celebration! You rock, girl! My prompt was: 
“Say something so we know you’re okay!” “Ow.” 
It will be bolded in the story.
This is a hot mess but: Enjoy!! :D
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~~~~~
Why was he here again?
“Okay, so, there’s been these guys that have, like, lasers and bombs and stuff—”
Oh, yeah. 
Steve watched as Peter explained what the latest baddies had been up to in Queens. Judging by the amount of arm waving Peter was doing, he was explaining through interpretive dance. He was in fact, listening to Peter, but he was also keeping an eye on their surroundings. According to Peter, the baddies were supposed to hit a bank near here tonight. 
“Listen, kid, ya gotta analyze what’s going on around you before you start to jump in. Otherwise you’re gonna miss—” 
“Like that door opening?” Peter said, pointing. Steve raised his shield and looked to the roof access door to see a woman step through it backward. She turned and stopped when she saw them. In all honesty, it wasn’t hard to miss Captain America and Spiderman on an empty rooftop.
She blinked at them. She held two brown glass bottles in one hand, a book and bag of chips  in her arms, and her phone was lighting her shocked face. 
Steve lost most of the ‘choose-your-fighter’ stance, lowered his shield, and extended a hand to show they meant no harm. Peter was muttering under his breath and looking from the woman to Steve. 
“I didn’t see anything. I didn’t hear anything. And I don’t smell anything either,” she said, removing an earbud, “Imma sit right over there and enjoy the sunset.” She moved to a corner and set her things down. Steve noticed a wince as she stood straight and pulled a folding lawn chair from a crevice and set it up. 
“What do you mean you don’t smell anything?” Steve asked, finally finding his voice in this weird situation. 
She sat down slowly, wincing, twisted the cap off a bottle and took a swig before she grinned at him. He expected alcohol, but the scent of sassafras hit his nose instead.
“Here’s a tip, Spidey,” she said, looking at Peter, “a little cologne goes a long way.” She popped a chip in her mouth and swung one foot at a time on the chair to get comfortable. 
Steve looked to Peter who was...smelling his armpit? He hadn’t even realized he was wearing an overabundance of cologne; the kid spent so much time at the Compound anymore it was just—. Steve sighed. It was normal. Great. A supersoldier got so used to someone wearing so much fragrance he became nose-blind to it. But a civilian? Who just happened upon them one night? No problem. 
“Also, friendly tip: if you’re gonna keep your ‘secret identity’,” she said with a wide grin and exaggerated air-quotations,  “a continuing secret, wear a different cologne when you’re in the suit.” Steve grabbed Peter by the shoulder and pushed him toward the far side of the roof. 
“If you’ll excuse us, ma’am,” Steve said, nodding to her. She gave a two-fingered salute and an ‘aye-aye, Cap’n’ as the two moved their position. 
~~~~~
It was three days later when Steve was trying to take a walk through the town that he got an odd feeling he was being followed. He and Peter had taken care of the guys they were after: low-level crooks with high-level weapons. A very bad mixture in Steve’s mind.  
But now, he didn’t sense danger necessarily, he didn’t hear anything menacing, and it wasn’t like it was a flock of teenagers following him again. That he could hear a mile away over rush hour traffic. Plus, the beard and longer hair helped him blend a bit more.
He kept his stride and turned down an alley to take a couple shortcuts to see if his tag-a-long could keep up. Two minutes later, down this alley, back onto the main street, and down another alley, the feeling was still there. Turning once more, he backed up against the wall and waited. Once his follower got close enough to the corner, he snatched them, forcing them against the wall. 
This was something he didn’t expect. 
A gasp, the sound of boxes falling, paper crumpling, and a wry smile followed by: 
"Well, hello to you, too, handsome."
Her again.
"Why are you following me?" he said, moving his hands over her sides and down her thighs. Call him paranoid, but two years on the run will do that to you. 
"Gun and permit are on the waistband," she said, her hands halfheartedly raised. She spread her legs, just to see how far Captain America would go to pat down a woman carrying her groceries. 
Which he finally took notice of when he had to move a bag of green beans to lift her pant leg.  She bit back a groan when he brought his hands up to her sides again and around to her back. 
She had to admit, of all the pat downs she's had in her career, this had to be her favorite: Exceptionally attractive man? Check. Very smooth, deep voice? Check.  Warm, rough hands that weren't too rough while gliding down her thighs? Check and check.
Ever since the pardon, Steve Rogers remained a sort of enigma. He still went on missions, which she witnessed just the other night, but he had pulled so far back from the PR world that people were trying to figure out if Captain America was the same person.
Steve ran his hands along her back and found the gun on her waistband and— 
"You're a cop," he said, exasperated, holding up her badge. She let her hands fall, smirk still on her face. "Why are you following me?" 
"Well, I was out getting groceries, which you probably smashed the eggs, by the way, thanks for that—" she said, taking her offered badge back. 
"Why is an off-duty cop getting groceries following me in broad daylight?" Steve asked, pinching the bridge of his nose. 
"Because I really just wanted to stare at your ass—I'm being followed, you doofus,"she hissed at him. 
"What?" Steve was instantly on high alert, listening more closely to passersby on the main street and all around. He chanced a peek around the corner to see if anyone had followed her. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. "Why didn't you just call for back up?"
"Long story," she said looking around as well. She pulled back when she saw people round the corner, only to be caged in by tree-trunk arms from an annoyed Avenger. 
"I've got time."
"I don't," she said, staring at him incredulously. 
Steve Rogers was one cocky little shit. He had the nerve to lean on his forearms, prop one elbow on the wall to rest his head in his hand, and cross his legs at the ankle. His face and body just inches from her own. God, he smelled amazing.
Late June was hot. Late June plus very close proximity to a very stubborn, very attractive supersoldier? She may as well be on the surface of the sun. She took a deep breath through her nose and exhaled slowly to calm her heart rate. 
"Come out, come out, Queenie. We know you're there." 
The sing-song voice came just around the corner from where she and Steve were standing. 
Her heart rate didn't stand a chance of slowing down. 
Steve's brow furrowed, and he regained some of his earlier tension. He watched her eyes widen and flit back and forth. It almost looked like a plea for help, but her gaze hardened; she was planning something. Probably something stupid. 
He pulled his phone out and set up the camera. Taking a picture— albeit blurry, sue him—he held it up for her to see. There were ten men looking around every corner, behind every doorway. 
She ran a hand down her face. There had only been four when she last saw them. They were getting smarter. 
She opened her eyes when the temperature dropped. Steve had moved back and was looking around the alley, formulating his escape plan. She reached for her gun, but his hand caught her arm and he shook his head, putting a finger to his lips as the men called out for her once more. They were getting closer. 
He pulled her further down the alley, groceries forgotten, both of them trying to be as quiet as possible. He stopped when he reached the fire escape and cupped his hands, eyebrows raised asking: you ready?
Oh Lord, she had to put her hands on him?
If she wasn't looking at him, she never would've heard his whispered, "Hey!" She shook her head and put her foot in his hands and one hand on his shoulder. 
Is this what it feels like to fly? He lifted her like she was nothing and she barely had to pull herself onto the fire escape. Though the stitches in her side still pulled and she bit her lip to stop the hiss of pain. 
Steve backed up to the opposite wall and took a running jump. His foot barely touched the dumpster, and somehow he managed to not make a sound when he landed on the escape. 
He just smirked and shrugged when he saw her bewildered face. She rolled her eyes. 
The voices were louder now, triumphant: they found her groceries. She silently mourned her ice cream as she and her cohort climbed. 
The rig was old and even though Steve wasn't making a sound, the metal was. He grabbed her elbow five stories up, making her stop. He had his finger to his lips again, then pointed below them. 
"I know you're here somewhere, Queenie, I just wanna talk to ya," one man said, adjusting his cuff links. He was the best dressed of all of them but Steve could see the outline of a gun in his suit jacket. 
"C'mon, ya don't wanna play with me anymore?" he said, as his men were still searching below and further on.
This guy was starting to creep Steve out. He still had no idea what this woman had gotten herself into, but the saccharine tone of his voice made him sick. 
"I'm real sorry, I hurt ya, sweetheart. I promise, I won't do it again," he was finally moving on from the alley along with his posse. 
They stayed still for another moment while he was still in view at the mouth of the alley. He stood looking out at the main street with his hands in his pockets. 
Steve motioned for her to continue. They were one flight away from the roof when Back in Black started blaring from Steve's phone. 
He scrambled to turn it off, but when he pulled it out of his pocket with such panicked force, it slipped. Right out of his hands and down. Clanging on the rail and singing all the way down to shatter on the unforgiving concrete below. 
He heard her move up the last flight, while he just cringed staring down at the broken pieces. Tony was going to kill him.
Great.
 The suit had walked over to investigate. And he looked straight up at Steve. 
Great.
"Hey! Sorry 'bout that! Butterfingers, ya know?" he said, waving, "Can ya do me a favor and just toss it in the nearest can? The wife's gonna kill me if I don't finish dinner." 
The suit just stared at him, disgusted. He reached in his jacket and Steve prayed that his companion had made it to the roof. He brought a pack of cigarettes out and lit one, walking away from the broken pieces. 
"Hey, thanks, pal!" Steve said, turning and taking the last flight two stairs at a time. He hopped over the ledge and found her on her back, hands on her face in annoyance, and a red spot on her side. 
"Are you bleeding?!" he asked, rushing to her and landing on his knees. He scanned the rooftop and the adjacent buildings looking for a sniper. What kind of trouble was she in, anyway?
"Am I?" she moved her hands and sat up. Her breath hitched and she laid back down. "Ah, yup, stitches probably ripped."
"Can I?" he said, gesturing to her shirt. She waved a dismissive hand and he slowly pulled her shirt up. She was right: the stitches under her breast had ripped and what he could safely assume was a bullet wound, was bleeding again. 
"There goes the bra…" she muttered, rubbing her temple, "and it was a cute one too."
Steve shrugged a shoulder as he reached in his back pocket for a handkerchief. He glanced around at the nearby roofs once more before turning back to apply the cloth to the wound. She was staring at him. Smirking.
"Did you just...agree that my bra was cute?" she asked, her smirk turning into a grin, eyes crinkling at the corners.
His gaze dropped to her wound again, brow furrowed, as he put pressure on the wound. A low hiss escaped her, but it was quickly replaced by the same grin. 
"Hmm. The eyebrow quirk and head tilt said you did. Name's Y/N, by the way," she said, getting him to glance at her. His hair was falling in his face and she couldn't help but think it just made him look extra handsome. "Figured you should know mine since I already know yours."
"Thought it was 'Queenie'," he said, a small grin playing on his face. The grin fell when her gaze hardened. 
"He shouldn't know it," she shook her head and ran a hand down her face. Before Steve could question, she waved his hand away from her side. She tucked part of the cloth under her bra and sat up with the help of Steve's large hand on her back. 
Steve moved back to give her some room before he asked, "What do you mean he shouldn't know it?"
"I dressed up one Halloween as a character named 'Queenie' and now that's what my whole precinct calls me. No one else calls me Queenie," she said.
Steve listened as she explained that she had been assigned to this particular precinct. Apparently due to suspicion that one or many of its members had close mob ties. Now she had proof, but no clue who to look for. 
They sat in silence for a moment before Y/N squinted and pointed over Steve's shoulder. 
"Hey, isn't that your buddy Iron Man?" 
Sure enough, it was. Steve turned back to face Y/N and just raised a hand in a lazy wave and sighed like an exasperated teenager about to get scolded.
Y/N grimaced at the loud sound of the Iron Man's repulsors. He dropped down at the edge and walked over, his helmet disappearing to reveal his face. It was a very annoyed face. 
"So you're just gonna ignore me now?" he said, stopping next to Steve and crossing his arms. 
"Tony, this is Y/N. Y/N, Tony," Steve said, gesturing one to the other. 
"Yeah, hi," Tony waved in Y/N's direction, then turned to Steve again, then back to Y/N, "Are you aware—you're bleeding."
The drastic tone change made Y/N blink. He spun his around to her so fast she thought his neck broke. She looked to Steve who had a hand over his face, but she could see his brows knit together as he shook his head. His shoulders shook in a silent chuckle.
"Wow, it is true," Y/N said, looking at Tony, "You really are a genius." 
Between the baffled look on Tony's face and the strangled laugh-turned-cough from Steve, her day was a whole lot better.
"Yes, we're both aware I'm bleeding. Captain Handsome over here was helping me avoid some trouble. This is a few days old, the stitches just ripped," she explained. Tony just quirked an eyebrow and a wide grin spread on his face.
"'Captain Handsome'? Oh that's definitely gonna be a thing, now," Steve's groan of disapproval cut through, but Tony paid him no mind, "Anyway, we need to get you patched up, and you were supposed to help set up-"
"Wanda's birthday, ah, shit!" was muffled as he ran both hands over his face and back into his hair. Y/N blinked.
"Captain America swears?" she said, looking at Tony who just shook his head in blatant disappointment. 
"Like a sailor. Romanoff's bringing the car around, so grab our invalid and bring her to the Compound. Romanoff, can you bring the car around?" Tony said, walking to the edge of the roof. Y/N tried to deny being taken with them, but Tony closed his helmet and blasted off. 
She looked to Steve who stood and held out a hand to help her up. Reluctantly (or not, he had very nice hands) she took it.
"Seriously, just drop me off at my apartment and I'll be fine. You've already helped enough," she said. 
Steve just shook his head and started leading her towards the roof access. "Not happening. I was already thinking about it, anyway.  Dr. Cho should have you patched up in no time."
Y/N groaned. How was she supposed to fight Avengers exactly?
~~~~~
Dr. Helen Cho has very kind eyes. But when she says 'go', even Steve Rogers moves. Y/N was introduced to her and then immediately directed (read forced) onto a table after her shirt and bra were (forcibly) removed and replaced with a hospital gown so fast the embarrassment didn't hit her until after Dr. Cho's machine was stitching her up. 
Or whatever it did. 
Y/N looked at her wound in the bathroom mirror. There was no scar, no trace of the bullet hole or the stitches. Still amazed at the technology, she lowered the borrowed hoodie and made her way back into the lab. Black Widow, or Natasha, was waiting with a small smile.
"I really want to thank you guys for everything, and I don't want to sound ungrateful, because I am! But I should probably be getting home…" 
Her smile tightened and her nose scrunched. "Mm, about that."
Y/N blinked. "Please tell me that doesn't mean what I think it means." 
Her smile twisted up a little more before she grabbed Y/N's hand and began pulling her back to where Y/N thought was the living room. 
This week was just getting weirder and weirder by the second. Natasha pulled her by the hand the whole way and Y/N made no move to let go either; it was oddly comforting, and Y/N didn't even realize she needed it. She briefly wondered what it would be like to hold Steve's hand. 
She immediately grabbed that thought, stuffed it in a box, put that box in another box, duct taped the whole thing, and buried it. 
Crushes on celebrities were fine. If you've met them, cool, good for you. If you've been as close as Y/N had, you should be commended and given 'The World's Luckiest Bitch' medal. 
But she didn't want to get her hopes up. Chances are they'd just be crushed. Probably under a star-spangled shield or something much more terrifying. Nope, she may as well crush those feelings now before they got out of hand. 
Natasha took her down several halls to see a lounge room where several were gathered watching what seemed to be Lord of the Rings. Y/N didn’t recognize any of them, but judging by all the lab coats strewn all over the chairs and various snacks, they were probably just on a break. 
A couple turns and an elevator ride up a few floors, Natasha's hand still holding hers, and down more hallways Natasha finally stopped and opened the door to a conference room.
Y/N was completely lost as to where they were in the building, but she wouldn't really need to know. She'd be going home soon anyway.
"Is that my apartment?!" 
Steve, Tony, and Bucky Barnes turned at the sound of her voice, but her eyes were locked on the screen behind them. 
Most of it was nonsensical gibberish to her, but the main picture was her apartment building. On fire. Specifically her apartment. And the one next to it, too, where she knew the couple next door. They had just had a baby.
"Tell me no one was in there," she whispered, her voice starting to shake, "Tell me no one was home, Steve, they had a baby. You tell me no one was home!"
She had moved around the table, volume rising with every step. Steve put his hands on her shoulders when she grabbed him by the shirt. 
"Mom and baby are fine, they weren't home," he said, voice quiet and calm, "Dad's in the hospital with a few broken bones and scrapes, but he'll be fine, Y/N."
Steve thought he would get lost in her eyes earlier, now it felt like she stared into his soul. She took a shaky breath in and out, closed her eyes, and breathed again. It was when she was finally able to release his shirt that Tony spoke.
"Looks like you didn’t make it out, though," he said, turning the volume up. She turned to him and saw some blonde news reporter stating that one person had been killed in the explosion ("Ex- explosion?" was whispered as Steve helped her to a chair and sat her down.) 
Her own face stared back at her. Her name was on the news. 
Blood rushed in her ears and drowned out whatever was being said, whether on tv or in the room. Mind racing, she tried to figure out what her next step should be: who does she call? Does she call anyone? Can she? Not knowing which of her supposed brothers and sisters she could trust. The proverbial brakes came screeching to halt when she heard—
“Hydra?”
Natasha had joined Bucky in looking at a file on the table and Tony was sitting on its edge; they all turned to look at her. When she stayed silent, Steve moved from behind her chair and leaned his hip against the table. He said her name, snapping her attention back to reality. 
“Did you say Hydra?” she asked. Bucky nodded. “No, no, no. We’re talkin’ Clair Vitali, yeah, he’s no small fry, but he’s not Hydra. That’s crazy! Sure he’s a megalomaniac, but he’s not that smart. He shot me in broad daylight and had the balls to follow me in broad daylight, but then again, he had the balls to follow me in broad daylight and he does have some pull up on high. I wonder if that’s how he got Roca’s territory…” 
Steve thought she was going to burn a hole into the table with how she stared at it. Bucky chuckled and looked at Steve.
“She talked herself into it,” he grinned, “Didn’t even have to show her evidence. But it does look like the explosives they used were from Hydra. Not just with your house, but multiple others.” Y/N looked up as the screen changed to show five other bombings. Ones she didn’t even know were connected to Vitali. “And I remember seeing him around Rumlow a lot.” 
Rumlow.
Something about that name rang a bell. A gruff laugh, dark hair, an easy smile, and honey colored eyes filled her mind. 
"Brock Rumlow?"she asked. They all nodded. She grimaced and muttered, “Glad I didn’t go on that date with him, then. Oh-kay! So. Now what? Hydra is way out of my league. How do we handle this?” 
Bucky’s eyebrows shot almost to his hairline and Steve let out a strangled “Date?!” as Tony just turned back to the screen and started talking to the air. To her surprise the air spoke back. Oh, yeah. He’s Tony Stark. AI’s are a thing here. 
She heard Natasha’s chuckle and chanced a glance at Bucky, his expression was locked on Steve who she did not glance at. She was far too invested on the screen; her eyes locked on a familiar face, she stood slowly. Steve said her name and she blinked. 
“Bottom right,” she said, pointing, “That’s Charlie and, Houser, our captain.” 
Tony brought it up front and center showing the captain standing straight, and her partner behind him, hands clasped and shoulders slumped. He looked truly dejected. Angry. He kept his eyes low while the captain gave his statement on her supposed murder. No, he didn’t say murder. He said death. Death. Like an accident. Like her home spontaneously combusted. Like she wasn’t hunted like a wild animal, beaten, shot, and thrown into the river. The blood in her veins boiled watching him give his speech. 
“This is a day of grieving for us all. This is such a tragic loss for this precinct, for this city. Officer L/N was a treasure; a hardworking—”
“That’s detective, you monumental bastard,” she spat. Tony turned with a raised brow and a smirk. “We don’t really get along.”
“—shows no sign of tampering, but we will dig further to get to the truth of this atrocity—” 
She wondered who gave him this false information and thought about what she was going to do to them. If the police had been in her apartment, they should know whether or not it had been a bomb or some sort of malfunction. 
And then her fire was extinguished. 
He sniffed. 
She watched as Charlie’s brow furrowed and for the first time he looked up at the captain. His hands clenched into fists before he moved them behind his back. The captain continued his speech, sniffing again. 
“That sorry, low-down, pig-headed—” she shoved the chair and stepped away from the table, taking deep breaths, almost panting. 
“Hey, easy,” came from Steve who put a hand on her shoulder, “What’s wrong?” She took another breath and held it for a beat, then two, sure he could feel her pulse racing. Her fists clenching and releasing, she let the breath go, slowly, controlled, before she turned to him. 
“He’s in on it. He’s the connection to Vitali. That sniff?” she pointed back to the screen, “That’s his tell. The man can’t play poker to save his life! And that bullshit story about me being, what’d he say? ‘A treasure?’ Ha!” She shook her head and ran a hand through her hair, trying not to think about how Steve seemed to be subconsciously rubbing his thumb in small circles on her shoulder. Taking another deep breath, she looked up at him once more. 
“And now that I know who the connection is, I have a good idea about who else is on Vitali’s payroll.”
~~~~~
Hello, Queenie. 
You wanna play?
Her eyes snapped open and her heart hammered in her chest. She sat up, gun raised, and looked around the room. This wasn’t her house. This wasn’t her house. 
Breathing became harder for her and her hand started shaking. But when the faint smell of a musky cologne reached her nose, she remembered blue eyes staring into her own. Her next breath was shaky, but she put the gun beside her on the bed. She’ll have to thank Natasha for giving her one of Steve’s shirts. 
Throwing back the covers, she swung her legs off the bed and made sure her legs weren’t wobbly before standing and walking out of the room. Ice cream was much needed. Now. 
Where the hell was the kitchen?
She tried to get a map in her mind, but, instead of directing her to her destination, it throbbed and refused to do any work. Forcing her feet to walk ten steps to her left, she faced her next obstacle. Waking the beast. 
She knocked three times. Silence. Three times more. 
“Fuckin— hang on!” 
Captain America swears like a sailor. She couldn’t stop the grin creeping on her face. Judging by the thudding and even more swearing, he was having some difficulty. Thirty seconds later the door disappeared and she flinched, stepping back.
Steve Rogers sleeps nude. 
In her peripheral, she could just barely see that he was holding a sheet around his waist. She didn’t dare to actually look, but tilted her head to see his face instead.
This was possibly the best decision she’d ever made. 
Steve Rogers with bed head. ‘World’s Luckiest Bitch’ indeed. 
She pursed her lips to keep the giggles from escaping. Sleepy, grumpy Steve was so cute. As she committed it to her long-term memory, he rubbed his face and let out a muted ‘shit’. 
“I thought you were gonna be Bucky,” he said, leaning on the doorframe. “What’s up? You okay?”
Oh, Lord, his voice. Abort mission. Abort. 
“I— uh, was gonna get some ice cream, but um, I’ll— I’ll just let you get back to sleep,” she said. Her cheeks were starting to hurt from smiling too much. Gesturing to his attire, she couldn’t help but giggle, “Obviously you’re waiting for Bucky, so…” 
Confused even more by her laughter, the dolt looked down at himself, let out a louder ‘Fuck!’ and slammed the door shut. Steve continued his stream of obscenities as they both realized his sheet had gotten shut in the door. A short burst of laughter rang in the hall before she clapped both hands over her mouth. 
“Shut the fuck up, Queenie.”
Removing her hands and breathing, she took a moment to actually appreciate him. He now had on dark jeans and an unzipped jacket baring his broad chest to the world. He was really trying to kill her. And she would let him. 
But when he ran a hand through his hair, she was done. 
Giggle-drunk and trying not to be a thirsty hoe, she started towards the kitchen. Until Steve called to her again. When she turned, he was sporting that ridiculous smirk and pointing in the opposite direction. She threw her hands in the air, the shirt raising just enough to draw Steve’s eyes down to her bare legs. 
“Come on, Rogers, why are you keeping me from my ice cream? You owe like two gallons anyway,” she said, grabbing him the jacket and pulling him along. 
They finally made it to their destination after he had to grab her by the shirt and redirect her twice; he damn near strutted to the freezer and began naming off the flavors they had stashed away. 
“Seriously?” she asked, looking at his choice of butter pecan in disgust. 
“I already told you once, Queens, shut the fuck up,” he said, jabbing a finger in her direction. Ignoring the swarm of butterflies and heat rising in her face, she waved a dismissive hand and let loose an ‘aha!’ when she found the bowls. She frowned and stood on her toes because seriously, who puts the bowls on the top shelf? Fine.  
She did what needed to be done. She climbed onto the counter. Just being on her knees gave her the necessary boost to reach her goal. A shiver ran through her when a deep chuckle came from behind her. 
“Enjoying yourself?” Steve asked, leaning against the island. 
“Immensely,” she said, smirking, “Is the counter the only thing holding you up right now?” 
“At the moment, yes.” 
She giggled and handed him two bowls and hopped down, ready to devour the sweet, cold, goodness that was ice cream. 
Somehow this was right. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but she felt...safe. Sitting in nothing but a borrowed shirt and her underwear with a barely-dressed supersoldier eating ice cream at God-only-knows-what time in the morning.  
“What is my life coming to?”
Steve looked up at her. They sat at the table, and for a long time were swapping funny stories about their teams. Her mind swirled with the new facts she’d learned just a few hours before, and even though she knew that the people she’d worked with for two years were not all they appeared, it still hurt. 
“Thanks, Steve. For everything.”
As if she needed another reason to swoon over this beast of a man, he looked at her with such sincerity and gave a crooked smile. She swallowed. 
“Anytime.”
Well that just won’t do. 
“Even at 3 o’clock in the morning?”
“Now wait a damn minute—”
~~~~~
With the Avengers on the case, it only took a day to gather enough information on her captain and several others that were in league with Vitali and Hydra. 
Now their plan was going into action. 
Despite her nerves about walking back into this building, she stood strong. Not to mention she had back up this time. 
Clair Vitali owned several hotels in New York. His reach spread much further than other mob families, and one by one, he seemed to swallow them up. She had very little knowledge of the layout of this building, but again, with the Avengers, impossible was simply not in their vocabulary. 
She and Steve were parked across the street in one of Tony’s mustangs. When she told him what hotel he usually frequented, he agreed that using a more high-profile car would be acceptable. 
“You sure about this, Y/N?” Steve asked. His gaze shifted from the hotel doors to her in the passenger seat. 
“A smidge,” she looked at him, “I just want this over with.” 
Steve nodded and looked back to the hotel. Vitali was here. She took a deep breath and got out of the car, but leaned back down to the window. 
“Besides, after being in a car with you driving, this’ll be a cake-walk,” she said, grinning. Steve opened his mouth to defend his driving skills when Bucky’s voice cut through their earpieces. 
“Punk, you wreck every vehicle you go into a fight with. Don’t start.” 
Four other voices agreed with him. Tony was going into his threat about Steve wrecking this car as Y/N started to cross the street. 
Blood pounding in her ears, she threw open the door and walked up to the front desk. The young man politely asked how he could be of service, despite his look of distaste at her attire. She flashed him a smile. 
“Actually, I was hoping to speak with Mr. Vitali,” she said. The look on this poor kid’s face almost made her laugh. He started to sputter and say that her request wouldn’t be possible; he was in a very important meeting and she might be able to schedule something in the future. She hummed and shook her head. 
“Unfortunately, it has to be now. I’m sure he’s missed me the past couple days and I just can’t leave him waiting any longer, sir.”
“Miss, I’m very sorry, but he doesn’t want to be disturbed—”
She sighed. 
“Alright. I didn’t want to play this card, but…” she laid her badge on the counter, pushing it towards the man. Whether or not he knew what his boss was really into, the color drained from his face. 
“You tell him Queenie’s here to play.” 
As he made a frantic phone call, she hopped up on the counter and sat, swinging her legs, making a call of her own. The voice that answered was hesitant. 
“...Y/N?” 
She smiled. 
“Hey, Chuckles. Listen, you’re gonna get a call about the Foundry Hotel in a few minutes. Bring back up. Don’t be surprised.”
“On it.”
She put her phone back in her pocket and waited. It didn’t take three minutes before grunts with guns surrounded the desk. Some actual patrons screamed and started to scatter, fleeing the building. Clair came swooping in and stood, behind his troops, grinning from ear to ear.
“I knew you’d come back to me, Queenie,” he said, “I was really hoping we’d have this little reunion at your funeral, but we can make this work—”
“Cut the bullshit, Clair, where’s Houser? I know he’s here.” She looked around the vast entry hall and into the restaurant where more people were huddled, being contained by more of the brute squad. “It’d be a cryin’ shame to kill me off and not celebrate your victory!” 
“You’re looking pretty good, sugar, you get all healed up?” Clair asked, chuckling. She nodded, still swinging her legs as if it was just another day at the park.
“I did. I found friends in high places. But you would know all about that, wouldn’t you?” she asked, jumping down. Some of the men shifted. “Being in league with Hydra and all.” 
Something glinted in his eye. She had him. 
Everything after that happened fast: bullets flew, glass shattered, people screamed.
The next thing she knew her ears were ringing. Everything was too bright, too loud. Too blurry. She couldn’t think straight. Couldn’t breathe. The only thing she saw clearly were piercing blue eyes. A voice cut through the fog. 
Queens! C’mon, just say something! 
~~~~~
 Wanda and Vision were due to be home from their island getaway in just a few minutes and everyone was running rampant around the living room. Streamers were hung from all over. A giant cake was being shielded by Bucky from Clint’s wandering hands. 
And some idiot put Steve Rogers on a ladder to hang the banner. 
“Hey, Queens, can ya tell me if it’s straight?” 
She walked away from the ladder and next to Tony to get a better view. And, boy, did she. Steve’s ass looked great in jeans. She hummed appreciatively. 
“Looks, great, Stevie. Now please get down, my blood pressure’s out the roof,” she said. She turned to Tony. “Don’t you have, like, robots or something to do this?” 
“I do, but this is payback for not helping sooner,” Tony said, sipping a lemonade. She nodded. 
“Really, Tony?” Steve started, “I told you, I dropped my phone! I was not ignoring you!” 
The two started to throw snark between them and Y/N just rolled her eyes. Steve tried to stop on the ladder and turn to look at Tony. He missed about two steps and got his leg caught between rungs. 
To say the look of horror on his face wasn’t funny would be an outright lie. 
The crashing and clanging drew everyone’s attention. Others asked if everything was okay and what happened. The two closest ran over and moved the ladder off  Steve. 
“Stevie,” Y/N said, lightly tapping his face, “hey, say something so we know you’re okay!” 
Steve just groaned and cracked an eye open to look at her. 
“Ow.”
Bucky called out, “Eh, he’s fine.”
Tony just laughed and walked away. An exasperated sigh made her slump onto his chest. He chuckled and leaned up to press a kiss on her hair. She raised her head. 
“I think I’ve got a new nickname for you,” she said. His smirk just grew. 
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. Captain Klutz.”
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haknew ¡ 3 years
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pls talk about your thoughts about chanhee and also the other concepts!! I always have such a hard time interpreting music and videos but i love to read about it
“bestie pls share ur thoughts on make your own concepts specifically chanhee’s but any others that are ur fave too 🎤- mar”
omg mar thank you for enabling me all day today 😭🥺🧡 thenks bestie ily :,)) and thank you too anon ! i should preface that T-T i have not read any other theories or analyses so these are just my opinions / impressions but i hope it’s entertaining to read about haha :p ! (feel free @ anyone to add on or share your thoughts too ! :,))
HYUNJAE - okay so audio cues... if you listen to the beginning there’s a sound of a bomb going off before the music starts ? and that ties into the dystopian / cyborg aesthetics that jump out at me of course, but what i immediately thought of was their no air perfo ? like we know hyunjae in the no air mv got that shot where he’s laying in the bathtub filled with water but also their kingdom performance with it also had those underwater shots ! so i think it ties into that... i feel like we saw in gen z, he’s a very straightforward person he says things on his mind which can come off as blunt but he thinks it’s better than not saying it ? which is interesting bc i think that speaks to his self- determined personality, he’s much more inclined to do whatever it takes to get something done, which i think falls perfectly in line with the “make your own air” phrase that he gets, if it’s something he needs he makes it himself, in a situational sense methinks u.u 
 JUYEON - JUYEON’S DJSKHDG i’m waiting for dri’s essay but in essence we see the gen z “juyeon is not such a good boy” shot and these text bubbles that pop up that say “sexy” “you so hot” “such a bad boy” and tbh i like this ‘concept’ ? for him better than his gen z one ? it’s not bc of the concept itself but i like the idea that he can “make your own character” as in he has the capability and power to be whoever he wants to ! you see him throwing white paint at the gen z canvas and i think ?! that’s symbolic of like a fresh canvas ! of remaking himself to whatever he wants bc the canvas is now blank again thanks to the white paint and flowers usually indicate spring ? so renewal and stuff like that ! i really like his, it’s also fun word play on “character” which has been juyeon’s intro in tbz (bc his name sounds like main character in korean) but yea :o ! i really love his the idea he can just repaint / paint over a literal image of him gives it the possibility of becoming smth new and that’s so so cool
CHANGMIN - SCREEEEECH okie um oh boy um *windows shutting down noises* this was so so so very different from his gen z stuff but i actually think BOTH are equally perfect for him ? the way that he set up the sparklers and neon lights on this very obviously trashy and kind of rundown rooftop with the cityline behind him is so ?!?!? LITERALLY making his own stage as his tagline goes, sort of like how the physical stage itself does not matter but rather it’s changmin himself that makes the stage special ! i talked about this in gabi’s set that i rbed ;-;/ but changmin puts a lot A LOT of stake in his position as a dancer it means almost everything to him as a form of expression from what i can see ? so he’s always trying his best to put forward the best performance possible and seeing this segment makes me feel like he’s doing just that ! pouring himself into it to make his stage pls i care him 
HAKNYEON - god i’m a jusadan but just u.u rest in peace me, i’ll ... T_T be kind of honest this one confuses me a little ? i have assumptions and i feel like i know ... quite a bit about haknyeon (LMAO) my best guess is it has smth to do with self assurance ...? the way he’s framed and the fact that he’s sitting on a bed in the middle of a church surrounded by candles gives me christ figure symbolism (where my ap english takers at :/) and the light that perfectly frames him in a halo gives me angel vibes too, but the tagline of “make your own romance” paired with him kissing his reflection makes me think it’s about self love ;;;; from what i can tell haknyeon has always been someone who really likes feeling validated and praised for the stuff he does well, which he does for himself a lot of the times too ! but sometimes i think the self assurances he compliments himself with is more for reassuring himself rather than bragging (which i think people misinterpret) so it’s more about becoming the person he wants to fully love and being happie with himself which *tears* i might be reading too much into who knows i just love him ok ... U.U 
KEBINNN - i know !!! dri mentioned this in my gifset tags but ! kev on kpop daebak (? was it) or smth mentioned how he strives to keep a childlike wonderment for the world around him, which is a reason why i think he loves drawing and sound / music production, he talked in a fancafe post once about an artist who turned mediocre everyday objects into art and he said he really loves that sense of wonderment so peter pan who “never grows up” is actually perfect for his worldview ahhhh T^T also kev really likes disney lmao, the way he’s doing this outside in this “neverland” garden on a balcony which is a part of this very typical apartment backed by a typical city bg also i believe ties into this turning a mediocre everyday thing into smth wonderful through his sense of childlike wonderment and his tagline of “make your own fantasy” (i also care him a lot this concept >>>>>>) and keeps to his referencing movie plotlines like he did in gen z jddkfj
SUNWOO - i also mentioned this in my tags on sunu’s set but this gives me 100 degrees vibes which i still to this day think is one of the most “sunwoo” vibe things ever, it’s a lot of him having fun and doing his own thing, and mixes both more mature and youthful aspects together in a way that i’d only ever describe as sunwoo vibes LMAO like the roller skating around and all the soap bubbles ! cute and youthful ! the crop top and celine wasitband (don’t laugh at me we all noticed) more mature and a callback to his gen z look methinks U.u, think sunwoo has always been a more go-with-the-flow or do whatever he feels like doing sort of person and so “make your own vibe” fits well with him in that sense to me 
SANGYEON - .... *silence* *more windows shutting down noises* *jess.exe has stopped working* OKAY i feel like ! sangyeon’s is also more self explanatory :p i love the juxtaposition of boxing AND the arcade type fighter games ?? like both require very different sets of skills i feel like one is more physical the other is more mental ? but both require adapting to changes whether in the game or the boxing ring which as leader sangyeon would know a lot about, esp being flexible and quick to respond to different situations, and the “make your own glory” i feel is maybe more on the nose, but tbz are this man’s pride and joy you can see it literally anywhere and for him, as leader, to have made it this far with tbz, winning rtk and building their popularity through their hard work and efforts really is building his own glory and i just HHHHHHHHHH
YES EYYSFDHSHF CHANHEE YES - i said it in the tags of my srb before deleting it so i’ll just repeat it here but CHOI CHANHEE !!!!! this detail i didn’t quite process first watch was the continuous flashing of lights in all his scenes, like ... from the shots and the set it looks REALLY empty ?? but the flashing seems to indicate cameras and photos being taken of him despite there being no people we can really see in any of the shots ? WHICH IS SO COOL i think the implication is like “all eyes on him” type which SO TRU i love that idea, like i said the walking past the wedding dresses ? v heavily implies fashion designer which i think you mentioned mar :o ! and i see it in the sense of his tagline “make your own stereotype” bc white wedding dresses are the very traditional / typical choice and obviously feminine in stereotypes, whereas chanhee is wearing a SUIT which is all black in a very clean b/w set with no color which i feel is very stereotypically MASCULINE and the glasses too, it’s such an interesting contrast of his “stereotypically feminine” features (in my view) with very masculine symbols, like glasses we usually associate with more soft hearted / meek stereotypes ? but the geometric shape of the windows and again his suit seems to indicate the very opposite ? it’s a mixing of stereotypes which i think is the point, by putting those together he quite literally makes his own stereotype and puts on the crown while the cameras continue flashing while pointed at him AHHHHHHHHHHHHH
YOUNGHOON - okie might have less to say about this one :o i feel like both hak’s and younghoon’s i don’t see the connections quite as readily but ! i think it’s interesting that his tagline is “make your own classic” but then in the scenes itself he has a flip phone ??? with an antenna (okay boomer /j JDHFKFG JK PLS) and a teddy bear while in PERIOD stylized clothing and setting where those two things are more modern / contemporary in origin (but also not modern enough bc ,,, it’s a flip phone LOL) like 90s kid vibes ? you know but as an emperor in the joseon era haha :p while eating shrimp chips and reading a (comic ?) book, like idk too much of what it means but it’s a cool dichotomy LOL, think it might also tie into actor ! hoon bc it’s make your own classic and i think acting has become a very important aspect to him :o after seeing what he’s capable of in love revolution and his atbz video so it��s interesting u.u (need help w/ this one)
JACOB - think my explanation in han’s set’s tags didn’t really make sense so lemme ... reexplain LOL,,, so ! similar to his gen z video ? like he’s talked about how difficult it is to open up about his own feelings etc. and he said it’s less bc he realizes he needs to but rather just to make other people feel more comfortable when it comes to understanding him, and like the whole breaking the mirror with his reflection in the wanna be angry jacob, it’s about freeing himself to the point he can express the emotions he wants to ! in gen z it was about being able to be angry when he felt that way instead of being tied by his image of being just nice ? and in the video with his pilot uniform not only does he control the ride but he also rides on it himself ! quite literally making his own freedom (symbolically), a sort of realizing he can free himself ? from what’s been tying him down and i think the really big smile he has while riding it just comes to show how he wants to feel :,))) (jacob bae i care you) 
ERIC - last one :p AHHH this is one of my favs too, the quite literal “make your own pride” I LOVE IT ! sooo i think the biggest takeaway i got was that of course in this video his “pride” is symbolized by the hot pink car (that he’s going to pick up his christmassy date in of course u.u if he has a license which he does n- his driver’s license in this was literally his aaa / boy version of reveal photo which in no dmv anywhere would a license picture be allowed to look that good-) and LITERALLY when he finished and takes it for a joy ride while sitting on the roof he’s STILL covered in the dirt and grime stains ! from working on it ! which i think is so symbolic ! it’s my favorite detail actually, he literally put sweat into this car which is his pride and now that he’s finally riding around in it, it feels accomplishing ! his pride ! love that, also when he’s grabbing a stub from that flyer i noticed he chose “youth” over the others (which was like .... ca$h, beauty, ice cream, hamburger...) which i think also just indicates that despite all this hard work he put in he still cherishes his youth and still lets that be a huge part of who he is (i mean pink car so of course) so idk i think it’s very neat go bestie mwah
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Love Isn’t Always On Time Part Thirty Seven
Previous Part | Next Part | Masterlist Notes: Not Beta-Read.   Also if you’ve asked to be added to the tag lis and I haven’t, I’m sorry! This is my sideblog and I can’t reply to messages without it being my main (if that makes sense) so just shoot me either an IM or a message on my inbox and I’ll add you I hope everyone’s doing well :) Warnings: Some cursing? Summary: Call me old-fashioned, but I thought three people standing at a bar, all wearing sunglasses and baseball caps may stand out a little. 
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The twenty minutes that had followed the broadcast had been status quo for the last two years of my life, and had been the modus operandi in my time with the Howlies - “Grab your shit, we need to be out of here in twenty.” New mission, new parameters. But there were new lines now that we were in danger of crossing. Any actions that we took to go after Bucky wouldn’t be sanctioned by General Ross, by the UN; everyone would be watching us way more closely now.
Steve was tracking down what he could on recon when it came to Bucky; Sharon had promised to feed back what she could without suspicion and while keeping her head above water with the investigation. The image of Bucky was everywhere - a collar pulled up around his neck, a black cap fitted over his head, but he looked directly at the camera.
Sam and I were waiting at a coffee bar as Steve made contact with Natasha; the bombing was on every single channel, everyone around us was talking about it. I kept my head down as much as I could, feeling conspicuous even in black baseball cap and sunglasses. Call me old-fashioned, but I thought three people standing at a bar, all wearing sunglasses and baseball caps may stand out a little. “Something is off about this,” Sam grumbled, “After all of the trouble he’s gone through the keep his head down for the past couple of years, there’s no way he’d slip up just to attack the Accords and then get caught out like that.” “Unless some HYDRA asshole got to him and he’s been reactivated,” I offered quietly, “Or it’s not him at all. Remember that mask ‘Tasha had when we were in D.C.? He could be framed. And he’s already been forced to do so much, wouldn’t be implausible that he’s been made to do something else.” We quieted down as Steve came back in; I could tell from the tightness in his jaw that the conversation with Natasha didn’t go the way he wanted it. “She tell you to stay out of it?” Sam asked. When Steve didn’t answer, he tacked on, “Might have a point.” "He’d do it for me,” Steve pointed out. “In 1945, maybe. I just want to make sure we considered all our options. The people that shoot at you usually wind up shooting at me. And this one hasn’t spent that much time since she splashed back down in the 2000s,” Sam tacked on, nodding in my direction. Steve caught my eye over the top of his sunglasses, and I averted my eyes. “If you have reservations about this, Wilson, have them, but don’t drag me into that,” I argued softly. Sam grunted in turn, quieting down as Sharon settled in beside Steve. “Tips have been pouring in since that footage went public. Everybody thinks the Winter soldier goes to their gym. Most of it's noise. Except for this. My boss expects a briefing, pretty much now...so that's all the head start you're gonna get,” She relayed, passing Steve a file. “Thank you,” He mumbled. “And you're gonna have to hurry,” Sharon warned. My blood ran cold when she added, “We have orders to shoot on sight.”
--
“I don’t like this,” I said quietly, glancing up at the building. Sam was stationed on the roof, and I was keeping to the alleyway of the building, waiting on a rented motorcycle that Steve and I had driven over on. Steve looked at the cowl in his hands. We didn’t have the time to contemplate, but I couldn’t shake the feeling in my gut. “Stay out here, keep to the comms, fall back unless I tell you,” he repeated. I pursed my lips and give him a tight nod, averting my eyes to the street. Steve cupped my chin, forcing me to look at him. “It’s safest this way,” He reminded me gently. “I know,” I mumbled, “Just... Go, and be careful.” Steve pressed a kiss to my forehead before he fitted his cowl on, buckling it and heading inside. I watched the door shut behind him before I looked up to the roof at where Sam was peering down at us. I gave him a wave, signalling that Steve had gone inside. “... I’ve got German special forces approaching from the South,” Sam warned. I grimaced, leg shaking impatiently. “Come on, Steve,” I mumbled, waiting for him to open the comm, to give the all clear to come up, something. I didn’t get that. What I got instead was the sound of gunfire, yelling. I kept my eyes on the sky, waiting for a signal from Sam or a call from Steve. What I did see was Bucky jump from one roof to another, then another  person jump after him. I brought my hand up to my ear. “Sam, what the hell is that?” “It looks like a cat man!” Sam yelled back. “A fuckin’ what?” I asked, unable to help a delirious laugh. “They’re heading for the sidewalk,” Sam warned in place of another answer, “Southwest corner!” I started my bike up, pulling my helmet on and pulling the visor down as I sped in the direction Sam mentioned. I could see them - there was Bucky, Steve, and another figure running at an unreal speed. “They’re heading for the underpass,” I groaned, picking up speed. I wasn’t sure what was worse at this point - Bucky jumping carelessly into oncoming traffic, the unidentified CatMan chasing him, or the fact that we still had German Special Forces on our tail. Even in my time in the 40s, even the recon mission in Roessel hadn’t presented me with so many opportunities to die on the spot. German Special Forces had largely paid me no mind, and I used that to my advantage, focusing my energy on defensive driving, diverting other vehicles from the chase, offering Steve and Sam space and cover where I could. I managed to follow Steve’s order, hanging back until Sam flicked the CatMan toward a detonation and fell back onto my bike to keep the both of us from getting caught under the fall of rubble that Bucky had set off. I would’ve taken a harder fall if it hadn’t been for Sam’s wings. I pushed off of the ground, hurrying out of the artificial light with Sam and spotting Steve and Bucky where they’d finally come to a stop with War Machine. “Stand down,” Rhodey warned from behind the visor. Sam and I brought our hands up, crowding closer to the others as German Special Forces closed us in. Bucky and Steve turned their heads to see who else he could possibly be addressing; I saw recognition wash over Bucky’s face in a quick, painful wave before he turned back to the matter at hand.
I would’ve moved closer, but there was Sam’s hand on my shoulder, carefully anchoring me in place to stop me from doing something stupid, like breaking into a run when there were god knows how many guns pointed at us. Part of me didn’t care. Bucky was here, he was in one piece, he saw me and he knew exactly who I was. But I also wasn’t the only one in the line of fire, and one stupid word or step out of line could spell even worse consequences for all of us. I cast Sam a pleading look despite this, and he gave me a small shake of his head. I kept carefully quiet as I watched soldiers shove Bucky to the ground and cuff him. Across from them, CatMan retracted his claws, reached up, and pulled off his helmet. My eyes widened at the sight of Prince T‘Challa. It took everything in me not to fight the cuffs being put on me, not to argue as I was strong-armed toward a vehicle with Sam and Steve and Prince T’Challa. “Shouldn’t he be getting a limo?” Sam muttered as we were nudged into a van. I shot him a look, fighting the smile that pulled at my lips. We were fucked, and we knew it. The Accords had been signed, we were way out of jurisdiction; we had gone essentially gone rogue. The ride was fairly quiet. Until, “So, you like cats?”
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whumpqin ¡ 3 years
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Quinn - Chapter 1 (This Wasn’t the Plan)
Hello all! It’s been a while since I’ve posted some of my own writing. I’ve decided to make a side story to Elisha, which is what this is! I hope yall are interested in some Quinn whump >:3c
Taglist: (considering this is a similar but also different series, I’m tagging Elisha’s people, but feel free to want to be removed from this taglist! I will make sure to make the difference.) @faewhump​ @galaxywhump​ @castielamigos-whump-side-blog​ @insanitywishes​ @burtlederp​ @whumpasaurus101​ @simplygrimly​ (ask if you want tagged!)
CW: nonhuman whumpee, creepy whumper, muzzles, forced muzzling, fantasy racism, kidnapping, smoking, guns, briefly mentioned assassination attempt, manhandled, getting patted down, gut punching, drugging, needles
Word Count: 2,799
It’s a dull ringing that rouses him from his sleep - an annoying tone that he’d sworn to fix and still hasn’t gotten around to.
Quinn groans at the rude awakening, and rolls his head over to see why it was going off by planting his hand on his phone and dragging it closer. It reads unknown against a background of black. Despite the annoyance that makes his tail curl lazily in his bed, he still swipes his finger across the bottom to answer it, bringing it up to his ear.
“Hello?”
The other side of the line is quiet for a moment, before a gruff voice, a little lower than Quinn expects, speaks. “This number was provided in relation to contacting a ‘Quinn Devereux’. Is this who I’m speaking to?”
“This is he,” Quinn says, sliding his blankets off of him, confusion lighting his voice.
“I am calling on behalf of my employer, Mr. Delaney, who has arrived at the meeting place. Except, it does not appear that you are there. I do hope you plan to be on schedule, yes?”
Ah, hell.
Quinn sits up in the bed quickly as alarm saps all the weight from his body. “Uh, of course not! ‘Pologies, I was plannin’ on makin’ it a uh…” he pauses to bring his phone down and note the time, which is about ten ‘til nine. Shit, shit shit- “a little earlier than this. Same place, right? That old abandoned house?”
“Yes. Don’t be late, Quinn. We wouldn’t want this deal going south, now would we?”
“‘Course! I mean, I-'' The phone makes a beeping noise to indicate that the other side hung up, stopping Quinn in his tracks. He looks down at it to be sure, before heaving a large sigh. It’s going to be one of those days it seems.
He needs to work fast. Firstly Quinn rifles through his apartment for nice-ish looking clothes, and though he’s never bought a suit and swears that he’s not going to no matter how much his Ma tells him to, he finds one of the newer button-up shirts that he bought recently. He scans its surface in case it magically had gathered stains on it while sitting in his dresser drawer in exile, but considering he only wore it once for a job interview he figures it’ll do the trick. He slips it on and finds some day old jeans that don’t smell too awful before he takes a look at himself in the mirror.
He’s a little worse for wear, but at a quick glance it’s only those faint dark circles underneath his eyes that catches his attention the most. Quinn combs through his black hair with his fingers, flattening it to look more presentable while also unhooking strands that wrap around his antlers and the bright orange tag against his ear. He pauses there, looking himself up and down.
Bedraggled and half awake, in clothes that are only somewhat clean. Going to a shady place to make a shady deal on behalf of people he barely knows.
“You can do this,” he quietly tells his reflection as he leans against the sink. “Get in, get out, get paid. Get in, get out, get paid.”
He repeats the phrase a few more times, committing it to memory on his way out. He picks up the handwritten letter he’d left on the small table at the front door and stuffs it into his front pocket. Then Quinn grabs onto his muzzle, slipping the buckles around his antlers to fasten it loosely against his face.
As he walks out of his apartment and onto the street, he makes the mistake of checking his phone one he’s properly in the morning light. It reads five minutes before his meeting, and he still has a ways to walk yet. Quinn lets out an exasperated sigh, eyes falling upwards to the adjacent apartment complex. It’s there he notes some curtains quickly shutter closed. His eyes narrow.
There’s someone watching you. Real strange fellow, he remembers the considerate old lady from down the hall telling him.
Tell me something I don’t know, he had responded. Quinn wouldn’t be surprised if it turns out it was just his employer keeping a good and proper eye on information.
To make up for time, he runs. Quinn dips into the alleyways to escape the busy streets of the morning, taking a few turns that he’s become familiar with while walking through the streets. A couple turns here and there, and he exits out onto another main street very close to his destination. He counts himself lucky he remembers the address at all. It would have been embarrassing as hell to have to ask the guy on the phone where he was supposed to have this meeting in the first place.
Quinn jogs up to the specific house, noting the old “for sale” sign that doesn’t even have a number on it anymore. It’s a huge place, once a mansion that was abandoned a long time ago because of bad press or something. He’s never looked at it before; even looking as ruined as it is by time, the place is still out of his price range.
He knocks on the door politely, taking the small pause to smooth out his clothes in a last ditch effort to not look like he had just gotten up a little bit ago, and waits patiently. The door creaks open with several years’ old whine that makes him wince, squinting one eye while he notices a human, dressed in dark clothing with short brown hair and amber eyes, staring back at him. Due to the muzzle making him unable to speak, Quinn offers a small wave before hovering his pinkie over his mouth and thumb over his ear, then pointing to the man. The human offers no reaction, but merely steps to the side. He takes the cue and steps inside the house.
It’s not as majestic as he once thought it might be. It hasn’t been taken care of in ages; the wallpaper is peeling off of the walls and there are holes in the floor, and the more Quinn steps through the house and hears it creak in response to him the more he wonders if the whole thing is going to cave in on him. It’s practically a deathtrap at this point.
He tries to make his reservations known to the human with a pause, knitting his brows in an uncomfortable position as he shoots a glance back at him, but he doesn't get the message.
The human opens up an old door for him that Quinn peeks around. There’s another human sitting in a chair in the middle of the living room, his legs crossed as he reclines into his seat. There’s a cigarette in one hand trailing smoke into the air, filling the room with its scent. His dirty blonde hair was perfectly styled like his fancy suit, and the only thing that didn’t look put together was the rough stubble against his chin.
The man who greeted Quinn closes the door behind both of them and steps around, joining another man with different hair behind the reclining human’s chair. The human in the chair - the boss he’s supposed to speak to, he supposes, flicks out his left wrist to check his watch almost casually. Then, he looks to Quinn with that icy blue stare of his.
“Right on time, it seems,” he says. Quinn tries not to let the dual feelings of discomfort and relief wash over his face too plainly. The man motions to a table he hadn’t seen yet. “Please, take off that muzzle. We can’t talk business if, well, you can’t talk, now can we?”
At his behest, Quinn slides his fingers up to the buckles against his head to loosen them and pull the muzzle off of his face. As it’s drawn away he takes a moment to work his jaws, careful not to bare his teeth too much in the presence of other humans, just in case. Then he places the muzzle on the table.
“Thanks for that. Are you uh, Mr. Delaney?” Quinn asks.
“Yes. I believe you have a message for me?” Delaney sits up in his chair and takes a long drag of his cigarette.
“Uh, yes, I do, I-” As Quinn reaches into his pocket to pull out the letter he’d been given, both of the humans to Delaney’s left and right immediately pull out guns and aim them directly at him. His chest goes cold. “Whoa, whoa, I’m just pullin’ out a letter!”
Delaney brays out a chuckle, puffing out smoke like some sort of dragon. “You’ll have to forgive these two. A bit jumpy after the last attempt, especially with lone messengers like you. Can never be too careful. You understand, right?” His eyes are squinted from his friendly smile, but there’s an emptiness in them that makes Quinn uncomfortable. Moreso when he waves his free hand towards Quinn and tells the guards to, “search him.”
The two bodyguards step forward without putting their guns away. Quinn swallows and stays perfectly still just like his Pa always told him to, allowing the two to move his arms about and go through his pockets. It’s a bit awkwardly invasive with two sets of hands patting him down like they are, but he’d rather have his personal space invaded than, well, the other outcome. The guards dig into all of his pockets, pulling up his wallet and the letter that had come from Quinn’s employer.
The human who found the letter gives Quinn a side eye that makes him draw a blank in terms of words, before opening the letter himself. He draws out the paper that was carefully handwritten and placed, unfolding it like it was a bomb of some sort.
Quinn was watching him like a hawk, so much so that he didn’t notice the other human had stepped away and given his wallet to Delaney.
“So, Quinn, it seems. You’ll have to forgive me for not remembering, it’s hard to remember everyone’s name nowadays. What brings you to this type of work, huh?” Delaney went on, rifling through Quinn’s wallet with curiosity.
“Um, I-I needed the money,” he mutters, watching the bodyguards hand the letter off to Delaney. “For the record, my employer thought it’d look wrong to bring more people besides, well, me. Wants to be cordial an’ all.” It’s not really his message, but he can’t help but feel a bubbling nervous feeling in his stomach as Delaney reads the letter.
“You mean he doesn’t want to lose any more men, so he figured I’d take mercy on just the messenger,” Delaney cooly corrects.
“Well I’m not sure what my employer’d think, but I’d for sure want the messenger t’ be spared,” Quinn says in the attempt at a joke.
When no one in the room laughs, he curls his tail around his ankle.
Delaney huffs a small bit of laughter as he reaches the end of the letter, beginning to slowly rip it up into little pieces and shoving it into his nice suit. “Quinn, do you know what happens when you give someone an inch?”
“They take a mile?” He swallows as the human stands up from his chair and adjusts his cufflinks.
“Yes, good, at least you’re not totally brain dead like some I’ve seen. I’m not about to relent and give that man a fraction of space like he’s requesting. You of all people should know that this is my territory, right? Where I do my business?”
“Right, but-” His breath hitches when the guard next to him grabs onto his shoulders and holds him before he can step forward. “This agreement is so they won’t encroach, is all. Wouldn’t it’d be better to not have any more territory disputes?”
Delaney regards him for a moment, having to tilt his head upwards just slightly due to Quinn’s height. Then he smiles a bit more widely. “I don’t think we’ll be making a deal today. But… I think we’ll take care of it from here. When are you meeting with your employer again?”
“As, as soon as I can.” Quinn’s eyes frantically look around for an exit as the other bodyguard closes in. He needs to get out of here. Now. “I’ll uh, leave you to it then, I guess. Sorry we couldn’t come to some sorta agreement-”
“Let me at least escort you out. My treat,” Delaney offers with an extended hand towards the door.
“Um, I ‘preciate the offer, but, I actually have a uh, a few things to tend to after this, so-”
The bodyguard holding him delivers a solid blow to his middle, knocking the air out of him in one fell swoop. Quinn doubles over, held up only by the strong hands gripping onto his shirt now, gasping to fill his lungs quickly.
“Perhaps I wasn’t very clear. I wasn’t asking, Quinn.” Delaney tilts his head to the side to catch his eye. “I’m not about to let you blab about everything you saw here just yet. Need a few things in order, you know? I just need to know if you’re coming with me willingly, or if my men need to get involved.”
“Hold… hold on a minute now,” he says quickly and yet still breathless as the panic wells in his chest instead of the oxygen he desperately needed. “I’m, I’m just a messenger, I’m not- what-what are you doing?”
Delaney had sighed and looked to his other body guard while Quinn was talking. He points over to the muzzle lying on the table and flicks his hand. “Muzzle him. I don’t have time to deal with his blabbering.”
Quinn’s arms are wrestled behind him before he can realize. The bodyguard is stronger than he thought, and he holds him still long enough for the other one to draw close enough, muzzle in hand. He struggles, lifting his head out of their reach and kicking his legs out to delay the inevitable. One of them grabs his antlers, jerking his head downwards for long enough that they can wrap the buckles around his face. They’re affixed tightly against his face, muffling most of the panicked cries erupting from his throat beyond whines.
“Enough of that whining,” he hears from Delaney as a firm command. He glances over with terrified eyes to see him pull a phone out of his pocket. “I have to make a call. Oh, you two, make sure to get him comfortable in the trunk, will you?”
The two humans nod, and drag him out of the room. Quinn screams as best he can through his nose, kicking his legs and struggling to get away from them as best he can. One of them spits out a curse, unhooking the gun from their side.
“Shut the fuck up,” he hisses. “I’m not dealing with a spitfire devil today. I’ll just shoot you and get it over with. You want that?” Quinn breathes hard and shakes his head frantically. “Then fucking act like it.”
They pull him out of the house with little issue after that. Quinn’s tail coils, tightening painfully against his ankle as it worries at the fabric and skin, as they approach a dark car with tinted windows. One of the bodyguards walks to the other side and pulls out a few items from the front seat, and Quinn can hear the clinking of chain along with it.
He’s suddenly thrust forward, and his face impacts against the side of the car. His bright eyes go wide, searching frantically for what’s happening, and then he feels metal tightly wrap around both of his wrists. Then he is taken from the side of the car to its back, as one of the bodyguards opens up the trunk. Quinn jerks against the cuffs holding his hands together, frustrated and scared tears pricking at the corners of his eyes.
This can’t be happening, he thinks, looking at the interior of the trunk. His antlers are roughly grabbed again, dragging his head to the side. He can’t help but roll the thought around in his head, how this wasn’t supposed to be how it went, as something sharp sticks into the side of his neck. Quinn squirms, a muted whine slipping from his nose as a wave of dizziness hits him and his legs nearly buckle. The guards take the opportunity and throw him into the back of the trunk, and as Quinn lands with a harsh thud his vision blurs from the force of the impact.
“Get comfortable,” the one who cursed at him before remarks. “You’re gonna be with us for a while, I think.”
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Call out. (Matt Casey)
Summary: You and your husband Matt Casey were helping the charity run when a bomb goes off.
Words: 1414
Requested: Yes!
Prompts:
Warning/A/N: mentions of blood and injury. Y/F/P/N: your favorite pet name. Baby, sweetheart, cupcake, etc
Tags:
@miranda0102 @talicat713 @intergalxtic @babyfannii @corebore123 @halsteadsway @bethii1 @littlemaatta @disneyismyworldforever @nhcwdw
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You and Casey were helping for the Chicago P.D and firefighters charity run for Chicago Medical. Jay Halstead one of the best detectives, he's also your brother comes up to you and Casey. "Casey, mind helping setting up a booth?"
Casey agreed and looked at you. "I'm gonna go into the hospital and get the registration forms,"
Casey nodded and gives you a quick kiss on your cheek. "Okay, I love you,"
You smiled at the l love you but you kiss him on the lips. "I love you too,"
You and Casey were just recently married about maybe two months ago after dating for two years and engaged for one. You could hear Jay make a comment and Casey told him told, shut up or he'll punch him. You laughed at the two of them. They weren't the best of friends when the first met but now they are like brothers cause well they technically are now. You get into the hospital and made it up to the second floor which was where the main lobby and the forms were at it. "I'm here to pick up the race registration forms?"
The receptionist looked through some papers but finally found them. "Here you go. Sorry about that. A lot of paperwork today,"
You smiled at her. You knew how busy a work day can get within a matter of seconds. "I know how that is,"
She smiled at you before you had starting walking back down to the stairs. You had an irrational fear of elevators. You knew how funny that sounded because you were a fire fighter. If you had to, you would take an elevator, but if you could choose, the stairs it would be.
You had just made it to the top step of the stairs when a loud boom went off.
----
Casey had woken up to a ringing in his ear and his vision fuzzy and to laying on the ground. He got up as fast as he could and looked around and saw a giant hole in the hospital. When the ringing had finally subsided, the screams and the crying started. Casey started shouting out orders to the other firefighters and getting uninjured civilians to help out. He didn't know how long had passed when he saw Truck 81 and Engine 51 pull up. He ran up to Boden, and Boden asked him what happened. "I don't know all the know is that there was a loud boom, and I was knocked out and when I came too, there was a giant hole in the hospital, people were screaming, car alarms were going off. Just pure chaos,"
At this time, Jay had ran up to Casey. "Matt, where's my sister? She's not answering her phone,"
That's when it hit him. He hadn't seen her. He had been so preoccupied with helping people that he didn't know where she was, but he looked towards the building. "She was in the hospital getting the forms when the bomb went off,"
Jay tried to run into the hospital but Casey stopped him. "Jay. NO. It's not safe,"
"That's MY sister in there, and YOUR wife could be hurt. Don't tell me not to go in there,"
"Jay, we don't even know if she's in the hospital. I'll find her. Stay put. You trusted me with to protect her for three years. Trust me now,"
Jay looks at the hospital and then back at Casey and nodded. "Alright text me as soon as you find her,"
"I will,"
Casey frantically looked around the parking lot and when he couldn't find her, he ran to the hole in the building. He started to climb the rubble but just merely missed a piece of ceiling falling. "CASEY!"
He turned and looked at Severide whose pointing above him and saw that the entire ceiling was about to fall. Casey moved out of the way just in time before the entire ceiling fall.
---
You had woken up to being under a slab of cement, you couldn't move, talk, scream nothing. "Y/N? CASEY?"
You heard Severide call out for you and you tried to say something back but you couldn't muster up anything, not even a tiny squeak. You looked around to see if you can make any sound with anything. You spotted a rod that you can pull down, and it'll make a sound. You reached up and did it once. "BABY! WHERE ARE YOU? CALL OUT?"
You reached up and pulled the rode down further and this time, it made a loud sound. "WE HEARD THAT! DO IT AGAIN,"
You couldn't reach up and do it again, after a few seconds you heard Casey call out to you. "COME ON, IF THAT'S MY WIFE DOING THAT. BABY, I KNOW YOU ARE PROBABLY TIRED BUT DO IT AGAIN, THAT'S ALL WE NEED ONE MORE GOOD SOUND AND WE WILL FIND YOU. PLEASE DO IT AGAIN,"
You had to reach up three times before you could pull the rod back down but you managed to do it and it was louder than the other ones. "IM COMING,"
You don't know how long it was when you saw a flashlight shinning the other way. You got an adrenaline spike when you saw that flashlight. So with all you have, you finally yelled. "MATTY! I'M HERE. HELP ME,"
The flashlight had quickly moved to where it had landed on you. "Hold on, we're coming,"
It had taken than less than three minutes to get to you. They saw that a slab of cement had you pinned down. "Is this pushing you on?"
You shook your head.
"Are you in pain?"
You shook your head again.
It wasn't pushing against you or were you in pain. The slab had you pinned, yes but it wasn't actually hurting you. The boys shinned the light on the slab. "You stuck in between two slabs. Your right leg is caught in between them. This might hurt I'm gonna try to free your leg,"
You nodded and grabbed onto Casey arm to brace yourself. Severide had gently but quickly got your leg free but once again it didn't hurt. "You're free, let's get you out of here,"
Casey had put you on his back and as soon as you were out of the rubble, he had slide you off his back and as soon as he did you instantly passed out, Casey almost not being able to catch you. That's when he noticed blood on your shirt. He quickly sits down with you in his lap and lifts up your shirt, you had a gash in your stomach that was bleeding badly. "DAWSON! I NEED HELP!"
Dawson comes running over and sees you unconscious in Casey's arms. "Oh shit,"
Dawson runs over to you and pushes down on your wound.
---
It had been a few hours since you had passed out from blood lost and you were in surgery. Casey was losing himself so was your brother. Casey had seen the nurse took you into the hospital come out into the waiting room. He stood up and walked over there. "How she is?"
"I can't tell you that sir,"
"What do you mean, you can't tell me? I'M HER HUSBAND! You either going to tell me how she is or take me to see her, or I will do it myself,"
"Mr. Casey,"
Casey turned around and saw the doctor that was doing your surgery. "Doc, how is she?"
"Your wife is out of surgery, but she is sleeping. She will make a full recovery. I will have a nurse come and get you when she wakes up,"
-----
"I was wondering why I wasn't feeling any pain, I just thought it might been the adrenaline running through my body,"
Matt looked at you and gave the side of your head a kiss. "Probably that, too. The doctor said that they'll keep you overnight to observe you but if everything goes well, you'll be released later tomorrow,"
You nodded and laid your head on your husband's shoulder and wrapped your arms around his one. "You're gonna stay with me right,?"
Matt moved his head, so he could kiss the top of your head. "Yes, baby. I don't know what I would've done if I lost you,"
You didn't answer him. You just tightened your arms around his. After a few minutes of silence. "I love you,"
"I love you too, Y/F/P/N,"
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adonis-koo ¡ 5 years
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tease
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| 6 |
↳ Summary: You came with the intentions of your best friend landing a job as a stripper. You never meant to catch the eyes of the king stripper of the establishment- Jeon Jungkook, yourself. With what was supposed to be a harmless way of paying off college debt faster you find yourself falling into a very odd and passionate relationship with your new mentor. Between infidelity, passion and jealousy there’s never a dull moment at Cherry Bomb.
↳ Pairing: Stripper!Jungkook/Reader
↳ Genre: Smut, fluff, angst, drama, slice of life, relationship problems without the relationship, reader is such a shy baby protect her, MUTUAL pining, so much sexual frustration,  
Word count: 13.8k
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// Playlist //
Song mood
Tags: Heavy petting, excessive foreplay, Jungkook reveals his daddy kink, nobody is surprised, mild sub/dom play, dirty talk, light spanking,
Warning: This story touches on both sexual harassment and abuse, please read with caution if any of these things are triggers to you. Additional warnings will be given when a chapter presents them.
TW: Sexual harassment and attempted rape are mentioned and referenced in this chapter please read with caution if these are triggers for you <3
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Sitting awake in your bed, with a tightly clasped phone and an angry expression, this was not how you wanted to start your day. What was his problem? You didn’t mean to offend him- but it didn’t seem like the Jungkook you knew would’ve took it like a personal attack, why was he acting like such a jerk?
Squeezing your phone you groaned roughly rubbing your eyes, well aware of the dark circles plaguing them from your all nighter, you were already tired you really didn’t need this added on top of your building list of stressful things. With in the short span of Jungkook you had never caught him in a bad mood before and this had thrown you for a loop more than you wanted to admit, briefly you thought about just missing practice altogether for some much needed sleep but you remembered the show you had tonight.
Flopping down you groaned louder as you shoved your pillow into your head, you’d have to practice for tonight in order to not spazz out meaning you’d definitely have to go, finally after coming to terms with the fact you pulled yourself out of bed before showering and getting ready.
You couldn’t get the conversation you shared with Jungkook out of your head though the entire walk to work, what had you done to warrant such a reaction from him?
You cycled through your memories before stopping at the spat he had with Hanjae, he did seem extremely broody when you left him behind, but he was fine with you at work...No- he wasn’t actually- if you were correct in remembering his brief glare on you. But he up until that point understood your weariness and respected that it was your choice.
He wouldn’t change his mind on it, right? All of your thoughts and brainstorming lead to nothing but dead ends and by the time you got to Cherry Bomb your eyes were tired and your brain near dead from too many thoughts between finishing your thesis, the lack of sleep and now having to figure out why Jungkook had been so harsh with you.
You didn’t want to say his comment on you acting like a kid hurt, but it did. It was something you were already insecure about due to other people, and he probably didn’t even know that, but still. It hurt. You swallowed your sensitivity as you pushed the doors to Cherry Bomb open, remembering your silent vow to thicken your skin.
You didn’t think you’d ever have to start by ignoring Jungkook’s hurtful comment, but here you were pushing it to the back of your mind.
The sting was still evident though, surely he knew how much his opinion of you affected you, you could feel your hands beginning to quiver only to tighten them against the strap of your bag, it was too early in the morning and you were too tired for so many emotions overrunning your whole body.
You were anything but a soda drinker, but at the moment your body needed the caffeine to stave from crashing to the ground in exhaustion forcing you to swallow the bubbly liquid like it was your life line. Taehyung had bedhead and a pretty brunette sat on the stool beside you as he began stocking up alcohol behind the counter, his gaze staying on you briefly before he frowned, “You look tired Y/n.”
“I am,” You groaned, collapsing your upper body on the counter as you sighed, “I had to stay up to finish a thesis for one of my classes today, I feel like total garbage and to boot Jungkook’s been such an ass this morning.”
You could hear Taehyung snort a laugh despite his apologetic tone, “Sorry- That sounds awful, but what’s up with Jungkook? He looked really broody this morning when he came in.” He seemed a little curious as he continued putting bottles up onto the high shelf.
“I don’t know,” You sighed, resting your head against your arms as you traced patterns against the cold granite countertop leaving a brisk nip against your open skin, “It’s honestly stupid- I tried to apologize but he brushed me off…”
The brunette frowned sympathetically at you and given how smiley she had been around Taehyung, you could easily take a guess in assuming this was his love Yeri who gave you a gentle smile, “You’re Y/n right? His trainee? He’s always been a hot and cold guy so it can come in phases...he was the same way about me for a long time,” She shifted a little in discomfort at her own words before she hummed, “But he’ll come around, he always does- I’m Yeri by the way.” She let out a small sheepish laugh as if realizing she didn’t introduce herself.
“Oh I figured as much,” You returned her smile, looking a little more tired and less bright in the eyes as her before your expression slowly melted into a frown, “I hope so, I know we haven’t known each other long but I’ve never seen him like this before, it just feels so out of character.” Yeri gently rubbed your back as soothingly as she could as she frowned delicately, pity in her eyes at your exhausted figure, you must’ve looked liked a kicked puppy, you honestly felt like one too…
“No Yeri’s right, he goes through phases and tends to isolate himself at times. I’ll warn you Y/n,” Taehyung frowned as he picked up the bottle of gin, “Jungkook bites as hard as he loves, don’t push him to talk too much or else he’s gonna push back. Just give him some time, everything will be okay.” He gave you a sweet boxy smile in encouragement as you sighed, nodding at his words before hearing Jimin call all of the fillers to start up on the days practice. Getting up from your spot you dragged your dead body to the back of the room as usual.
Today had been particularly miserable, Chan Hee wouldn’t stop passing snide comments your way and your water bottle seemed to magically be replaced with pure vodka, as if things weren’t hard enough you had also received three texts from Hanjae demanding to see you soon to talk. Everyone seemed unable to leave you alone- except for the one person you had been hoping to talk too. Time had passed too fast and it was already 9:45- well past the time Jungkook usually picked you up from the main room.
Should you go back on your own? You still didn’t feel one hundred percent comfortable walking back on your own unless Jungkook specifically stated you needed too and he hadn’t even greeted you this morning like he usually did before he went back to practice on his own. Should you send him a text? Worry was beginning to gnaw in your stomach and you couldn’t keep yourself from fidgeting, you didn’t like being on bad terms with Jungkook, it left you feeling both empty and anxious at the same time with a bitter twinge of the last memory you spoke.
You were never one to hold a grudge for long- if at all. He could call you childish all he wanted- you were used to it by now anyways, you just wished he’d tell you what the problem was, what had you explicitly said that set him off? But in the end, if he wasn’t even going to accept your apology, you supposed it was useless. You glanced at the hallway again, feeling a twist of hurt bubbling in your stomach as you glanced back at your phone, one text wouldn’t hurt, right?
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You could barely seen your screen as droplets of tears pattered against your phone, you told yourself you weren’t going to cry! But you couldn’t stop the sniffle from escaping you at how cold his words were. What could you have done to make him like this? You didn’t deserve this kind of treatment furthermore no matter what you did. Why couldn’t he just talk to you?
“Guess we know who finally dropped the little baby,” Chan Hee stood in front of you, her voice going higher in a mocking baby tone as she snorted a laugh, “What did you expect? Someone like Jungkook would never waste his time on a girl like you. Might as well start packing up now.” You opened your mouth but all your lips did was quiver as more tears dripped down your face causing her to laugh again. You must’ve looked pathetic.
Chan Hee’s words were just salt on an already open wound, maybe she was right, he clearly wasn’t about to waste his time on a single word you had too say, his curt, cold message was clear of that.
Rubbing your eyes you intended to ignore her until the familiar Nike shoes of Seulgi came into view, “Fuck off you dirty fiend, don’t you have another girls life force to feed off of?” She instantly wrapped her arm around you defensively as she gritted her teeth.
Chan Hee only rose her brows before laughing, “Keep your bitch on it’s leesh L/n.” She said nothing more before whipping around and sauntering away. Seulgi looked ready to pummel her into next week but stopped at your sniffling before her expression crumbled.
“Is it Jungkook?” She asked frowning, three words and another sob broke from your lips and your vision of your blurred again as you closed your eyes defeatedly while nodding, “Awwh don’t cry Y/n, I’m sure he’s just having a bad day, have you tried texting him?”
You nodded trying to muffle your sobs as you noticed people beginning to glance your way, the last place you wanted to cry your eyes out was in the main room of Cherry Bomb in front of dozens of fillers, “He said we’d talk later,” You tried to calm your breathing by inhaling slowly, forcing the bubbling of your cries down your throat before swallowing thickly, “I can’t force him to talk Seulgi, I think...I think I’m just gonna head home, I need to get some rest before class today.” You wiped your eyes as she sent you a look of pity while frowning.
Giving your shoulder a squeeze she nodded, “Get some rest babe you need it after today, see you tonight?” She asked a little hesitant, as if unsure if she’d see for work. And as much as you wanted to just take the whole day off, life went on and you were being dragged along for the ride, you really needed the money tonight and you’d be not only depressed, but also broke if you decided to stay in, “Yeah, I’ll see you tonight.” You nodded before giving her one last look and heading out the door.
Could today get any worse?
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“Now just step forward, it’s important you keep your weight on your standing foot so when you go to turn your working leg in it’s a lot sharper and gives a more clean look,” You demonstrated, turning your left leg towards you before turning it out once more. Both Namjoon and Seokjin looked utterly adorable as they studied your position, as if taking mental notes before trying it themselves.
Relaxing from your position you nodded as you watched them give it a couple of tries before smiling, “See! It’s not that difficult, it just takes practice to get the movement, can we play it with the music so I can watch?” You laughed at both of their grimaces before Seokjin groaned and nodded. Taking a seat by the mirror you pulled out your phone before turning on the music, watching them work on the combination again, Namjoon had gotten off count and Seokjin was still struggling with his foot placing but you couldn’t help but beam with pride, they were such quick learners and hard workers! If they kept up the good work they’d be great in no time at all.
They were near out of breath by the time they finished the combination but you were already up on your feet excitedly clapping your hands as you grinned wide, “Awesome job guys! I know it feels like you aren’t doing well but you really are! Results just take time to see, like anything else.”
“I don’t know how you have the energy to do this every day on top of work and practice.” Namjoon admitted as he took a drink from his water bottle, wiping the sweat from his brow as you gave a small laugh, tugging on the strands of your ponytail as you shrugged. It was taxing but after so long your body had eventually got used to the demanding hours dance took.
Adding stripping into the mix and extra practice for that threw your body for a loop, not used to giving even more energy and admittedly your feet had been tired and sore from being on the go for so long especially with the heels you wore for work.
“You get used to it after so long,” You offered a small smile before shrugging, “Trying to get used to work is the more difficult part for me, but I’m surviving…” Your smile melted at the thought of Jungkook before sighing, you still hadn’t heard from him the rest of the day and currently you had just finished up your own practice with Namjoon and Seokjin, who had came by after your own rehearsal and planned on heading to work from the studio together.
Both Seokjin and Namjoon exchanged glances before giving you sympathetic looks of their own before Namjoon spoke up, “Don’t take it to heart Y/n, Jungkook is just going through the motions right now, I tried telling him to not give you the cold shoulder but he brushed me off this morning, he can be a stubborn ass when he wants to be.”
You tried to keep your lips from not quivering but the idea was upsetting, so he really was giving you the cold shoulder? You didn’t want to say you were desperate for an answer but you didn’t like being on bad terms with anyone, let alone Jungkook, “What did I do Nam? Why is he so upset?” Your eyes were glossy and pleading as you fiddled with your fingers, letting your gaze drop to the floor as you swallowed back the sob that wanted to filter through your lips.
Namjoon sighed before he ran a hand through his hair, giving you a sad apologetic smile, “It’s really not for me to tell, and even if I wanted too he hasn’t really told anyone what’s going on. He’s just been brooding the whole day, Rosé tried to talk to him but…” He cringed before sighing.
It was Seokjin who spoke up next, his expression a little more irritated as he crossed his arms, “That kid really needs to get it under control, one of these days he’s gonna lose the few people he has left if he keeps acting like this,” He looked a little ruffled but then you remembered Rosé was his trainee once upon a time, a natural protectiveness for the girl was obviously still there even after so long, “Seriously Y/n, Jungkook has a good heart but he has a temper and emotional maturity of a five year old, it’s not an excuse for his behavior but he’ll get over it, he usually does.”
You felt a little better, but you still couldn’t help but be worried. If there was anything you could do to rectify wherever things went wrong with Jungkook you’d do it in a heartbeat. You just wished he’d give you a chance. Seokjin sighed before wrapping an arm around your shoulders, “Come on, we better get to work, I know you’re on stage tonight, right?”
“Well yeah…” You shrugged before frowning as you all exited the studio, Namjoon had been kind enough to pick you up from your apartment and had said he’d be more than happy to drive everyone to work, it was the least he could do considering you were helping them free of charge.
You’d never accept their money though even if they tried, you were all broke in college and even as soloist you had become aware that they were still very particular on how they chose to spend their money. Arriving to Cherry Bomb it was already in full swing, your shift was short today and you weren’t about to complain, you just had a few dances on stage before being able to go home. Your wallet would be crying at the lack of hours but atleast you’d get home a little earlier than normal.
Sitting down at your vanity in the filler room the chatter bounced off the walls and you could feel a few girls passing you stares while talking, you wouldn’t be surprised if you and Jungkook were the topic of Cherry Bomb right now, especially given your embarrassing breakdown earlier that morning. God why did you have to be like this? Pressing the fake lashes on you stood up to start getting changed, you were beginning to get used to the risque lingerie.
The black lace thong that rode up your ass wasn’t as uncomfortable anymore granted you had finally broke down and started wearing thongs more regularly in your day to day attire to try and become more used to the feeling, the tight pushup bra you put on however was still a foreign feeling when all you wore was the opposite every day.
The room had suddenly became a lot more hushed when the door opened, making you furrow your brows as you pulled the skirt up to your waist, turning to look only for your eyes to meet the burning pair that focused only on you.
Jungkook had been talking to Namjoon as his eyes flickered over you, whatever tension he had in his shoulders relaxing but his expression only hardened further before he turned to continue his conversation as if you didn’t exist.
“Yikes.” One of the girls next to your own vanity whispered to her friend before they before sniggered at your expression, forcing your eyes back on your vanity as you swallowed thickly. Refusing to acknowledge the pang of hurt in your chest at his treatment of you as you continued getting dressed.
You’d be on stage in less than ten minutes, your emotions and tears would just have to wait.
Pulling your hair up you took one last deep breath before heading out the door with the rest of your group.
You were on the far left of the stage today and somehow, it made things a bit easier and you didn’t feel as pressured to perform. Stripping- was still a scary thing to do but as soon as you shed your clothes you hadn’t even noticed the dollar bills flying your way, it looked roughly the same as your last dance worth, but hey, twenty could get you not only coffee but a lunch to go with it. You weren’t about to complain.
You could tell your performance wasn’t as sharp today though, the back of your mind was still clouded with Jungkook, who was somewhere out in the crowd sitting with a group of women no doubt keeping them entertained. Scanning through the crowd you finally spotted the two figures you had been hoping would keep their word. The two men from yesterday, the one who had been relentlessly flirting with you had his eyes locked on your figure while his friend- Alex was it? Had been sunk in his seat while glancing towards the floor, his friend occasionally knocking his shoulder as if trying to get him out of his head.
You could tell when someone wasn’t interested in strippers and he definitely was one of them. Stepping off the stage you could feel a plenty of gazes on your near naked figure, you were determined to make an extra tip tonight and at least his friend was up for a lapdance. Hopefully this would go well. You sauntered over to their table instantly perking the flirts attention, you gave them a teasing smile as you waved, tracing the edge of his chair as you circled it, “Thanks for coming, I always love the audience.”
“I’m flattered but my friend could really use a pick-me-up.” He winked at you before jerking his head to his friend, who shifted in his seat, his cheeks a little flushed under the lights and you could instantly tell he wasn’t comfortable with the idea.
Smile you stepped in front of him again as you replied, “I don’t dance for anyone who isn’t comfortable with it.” You explained gently as you began to circle your hips, dropping slowly down into a slut drop to get at eye level with the flirt, “At least let me treat you.” You allowed your hands to stroke up his thighs, his gaze cast over to his friend briefly before laughing.
“Alright you’ve won me over.” Smiling you stood up before placing yourself down into his lap, it was ironic how okay you felt, or maybe it was the mutual consent? You weren’t sure, you hadn’t practiced on lapdancing a whole lot, but there wasn’t a lot too it, right? You assumed you must’ve been doing something right by the way his hands were clenching at his sides, trying to keep from touching you as your hips got to work.
Your cheeks were beginning to get a little hot, especially when you felt the stiff boner in his pants but you didn’t relent. The only thing, that caused you to falter for a split second was when your eyes found your mentor.
He sat a few tables away and even though he was in direct view of you- he had to have seen you. He still refused to look at you, instead he chose to direct his attention on the four women he had been seated with, even going as far as grabbing the hand of the girl he sat by, nipping at her palm before kissing it with a playful wink.
You weren’t hurt at all! You didn’t care! Who said you cared because you definitely didn’t!
You swallow thickly instantly looking away and ignoring the drop in your stomach and the pang that waved through your chest, this was fine! You weren’t together and he had every right to do whatever he wanted with any girl! It wouldn’t be fair of you to act like you were together when you were in fact, separated from your own boyfriend and he was single.
You had just thought maybe…
Pressing your forearms against the man's shoulders you finished your lap dance before the music had come to an end. You felt the band of your panties lifted and the bill set between your skin and the material as you quickly got up, forcing a smile and pushing the gloss in your eyes back, “Thanks for coming gents!”
“Wait,” The flirt instantly stopped you before giving a quick cough, as if not wanting to become too eager, “At least let us buy you a drink?” He offered, looking a little more timid than before as if hoping you wouldn’t reject him.
Giving a small smile you ran a hand through your hair before nodding, “Of course! This was my last dance of the night, let’s head up to the bar.” The flirt had introduced himself as Minjun and apparently his friend Alex- had been a transfer student from America currently attending the university. Of course you had to compliment his fluid Korean, you had assumed he was a foreigner by his name but still, it was impressive when he told you he knew several languages and picked up Korean in only a few years.
Taehyung was practically rooting for you behind the bar, sending you embarrassing thumbs up everytime they both looked away making you scowl at him while Yoongi fixed your drinks.
“So what brings you both to Cherry Bomb? I know most of the times the reason is pretty obvious but…” You clacked your lips before you offered them a smile, “Reasons seemed a bit different today.”
You didn’t want to pry but you couldn’t help but notice the air between the both of them seemed different today, when they interacted with each other compared to the night before.
It was ironic, but people often poured their problems out to you when you sat down and talked to them, it was odd how easy it was to open up to a stripper only there for a paycheck.
Minjun sighed as he shifted in his seat, you instantly noticed Alex glance back towards his drink before slumping again, “He’s been having some girl problems recently, I figured I’d take him here to try and get his mind off of things but...he’s not much of a club guy if you couldn’t tell.” He laughed a little, somewhat affectionately as if he were his little brother. They were obviously very close.
“Well it takes one to know one,” You replied gently before giving a soft laugh of your own, offering a small smile to Alex as if understanding his pain, “Like I said before, I’m actually not into clubs, especially now considering I work at one.” Your smile turned a little more shy as you traced the rim of your glass, noticing Minjun’s frown at his phone before he sighed, his brows pressed together in mild worry before giving you an apologetic smile.
“I’m sorry but I’m going to have to go, my little sister is having her own relationship problems.” You laughed at his wording before nodding, telling him it was more than okay before he paid the tab and made his way to the exit of the club, leaving you and Alex sitting alone.
Giving a sigh your expression turned more soft at the poor guy as you frowned, “I’m sorry about last night, I know what it feels like- trust me. Anyways, that was my last dance of the night so I’m gonna head off.” You got up from your seat intending to make your way to the staff area before Alex suddenly perked up.
“W-wait!” He fumbled out almost a little desperate, as if your previous words stirred something inside him, turning around you raised your brows at his abrupt call, his cheeks flushed again as if realizing it himself but he continued to fumble, “C-can I buy you for the night?” Your lips parted at his words before he realized just what that sounded like, “Not..not like that I mean…” He ran a hand through his hair before muttering something in english, “Uh- I just need an outside opinion on the situation and I know strippers are never free and being a therapist really isn’t your job but…” He trailed off at the sound of your laugh.
Smiling brightly you couldn’t help but let your expression soften again as you nodded, “Of course, tell you what. There’s an amazing takeout japanese place close to here that runs 24/7, let me go get changed and we can get something to eat there and talk, sound good?” He nodded rapidly, giving a relieved smile as he relaxed a little, letting you go to get changed as he waited by the bar.
Pulling on the sports bra and loose tank top you hadn’t packed anything except sweatpants and given it was almost three in the morning you were sure Alex wouldn’t mind the informality, that and he had seen you almost completely naked, that probably helped in its own way. You grabbed your bag before making your way back out to the bar where Alex stood, money in hand as he gave it to you.
“Alright, let’s go.” You grabbed his forearm with an encouraging smile as you led him out of Cherry Bomb, the air was nice and cool against your skin, making you realize the club had been stifled and hot even against your open skin that had been on display most of the night.
The walk was short and you had gotten used to nightlife in Seoul after going for fast food after work so many nights, you were often starving and strippers weren’t allowed to eat on the job, mixing that with a couple of drinks, an empty stomach was never a good way to go to bed.
Sitting down in the booth you opened up your takeout box, pulling your hair up into a messy bun as you gave him a smile, “So, is this about the birthday girl?”
Alex blinked a few times before quickly letting his gaze drop to his own food, playing with his chopsticks before he murmured, “You mean Jiwoo?” He pressed his tongue into his cheek before sighing, running a hand through his hair before he admitted, “I’ve liked her for over two years…? It started out as just a crush and I didn’t really think much of it but...things have gotten weird between us I guess.” He picked at his food, his face dejected at the memory which made your heart ache for him, the poor guy looked completely crushed, and after last night's display it was no wonder.
Curling your knees into your chest you leaned against the window as you hummed, “What do you mean? How did things go from fine to weird?” You know you didn’t know him personally, but you’d never turn away someone who needed your help, or at least your opinion on a situation, especially one that seemed so heartbreaking for him.
“Things were fine until four months ago, I mean we had gotten really close and…” He groaned, facepalming as he muttered, “We ended up going to a party and drinking a lot- I don’t remember but I’m pretty sure I confessed- she’s been acting weird ever since. But to go and sleep with a stripper? It’s so unlike her er-” It seemed as if he was going to say your name- only to realize he had yet to learn it, “...I mean do I even stand a chance with a guy like that?”
You frowned at his words. The answer was- he probably didn’t. Jungkook was the most charismatic person you had ever met, he knew all the right things to say and his confidence could win you a thousand times over, and of course his good looks and incredible build only furthered his chances with any girl on the planet, “Well,” You paused, glancing down at the table yourself, trying to push the image Jungkook had sent of himself and the girl- Jiwoo in chat away from your mind, “My mentor is a lot of things Alex- but committed probably isn’t one of them,” He seemed to notice the own dejection you held as you sighed, “I doubt you have to worry about him stealing her away, he’s extremely adamant about actually getting close to any of our clients.”
“Wait…” Alex faltered in his sentence as he pressed his lips together, “Are you and him…?” He trailed off his words, as if not wanting to really ask, but wanting to make sure this situation hadn’t involved more members then he realized.
Your lips parted and your pupils widened as you fumbled, “Oh no! It’s nothing like that-” You gave a tense laugh as you rubbed your neck, “Jungkook and I…” You squinted your eyes as you glanced at the table, what were you? Friends? Just trainee and mentor? “It’s….it’s complicated,” You sighed as your expression dropped, “He’s my mentor for stripping.” You explained before picking at your own food, “But...I don’t know our relationship is weird, we’re friends but- it’s a weird situation.” You shrugged, not wanting to think about it any longer before you hummed, “Have you told her you like while sober?”
“Hell no!” Alex replied a little too fast, just the idea made him look nervous and he was probably working a knot in his stomach at just the idea of confessing, he could still remember being nervous when he was drunk, god only knew what it’d be like if he did it sober.
You clacked your tongue before shaking your head, “I know it’s scary, but you should just be honest with her and tell her.” It wasn’t an appealing idea, you understood, but at the end of the day if she wasn’t interested in it would be better for him to know and move on. You hadn’t known him for more than a few hours but Alex seemed like a sweet guy he deserved someone who could love him for who he was and only him.
“And if she doesn’t like me back…?” He murmured, finally beginning to slurp on his noodles as if already digging into comfort food of a post breakup that never even began. It made you wanna laugh because the feeling was oddly mutual but you refrained due to his eyes that seemed distant and broken under such an idea of her not liking him.
You offered a sympathetic smile before replying, “Then you’re better off with the truth and walking away knowing that there is no hidden feelings and there was no other outcome possible. I know the idea hurts, but you can’t stay stuck on someone who doesn’t love you, and the only way to find out is if you just ask her. Who knows maybe she does like you.” Your smile brightened as you passed him a wink, beginning to dig into your own meal.
Alex sighed before nodding, “You’re right...thank you for listening to me by the way- never thought i’d pay a stripper for advice.” He gave a small laugh, and for the first time all night you let out a genuine one of your own.
It was ironic but people often seeked advice in the oddest places. You ended up having a pleasant conversation with him before finishing up your meal, Alex- had insisted on walking you home, saying he wouldn’t feel comfortable or okay letting you go home so late on your own.
It wasn’t until you abruptly paused outside of the restaurant when you checked your phone, that you swallowed thickly, your notifications had been blown up by several missed calls and a wall of text from Jungkook- who had apparently saw the money exchange with Alex at Cherry Bomb and had gotten a completely wrong impression on what had happened.
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“Everything okay…?” Alex asked a little hesitant at the sight of your white knuckles gripping your phone and your blurry vision. Angrily you rubbed your eyes, mad at yourself now for wanting to cry. But it just made you so mad!
How could he expect you to comply when he had been such a dick the past two days. Obivously he was concerned for your safety, but he had went about it in the completely wrong way, leaving you feeling more dumb and angry then cared about or safe.
You understood the risk you were taking when you agreed to go with Alex but this guy didn’t have a malicious bone in his body, he was completely in love and it showed.
“I’m fine, he just…” You forced the sob down your throat as you shook your head, walking side by side with him as you sighed, “He just makes me so angry.” He gave you a look of sympathy as you both made your way back to your apartment.
Pushing his hands into the pockets of his jacket he looked like he was in contemplation for a moment before asking, “Why is it complicated with your mentor?” You frowned at the question, you had answered plenty about your mentor at Cherry Bomb, but never any pertaining to the actual nature of your relationship.
And so you did the only thing you could, you told him everything. The whole walk back you did your best to explain how you ended up auditioning, how Jungkook had persuaded you to take the job. How he rarely ever referred to you by your name and how well you both got along, and then you told him about your boyfriend and how you finally decided this was the end. You were going to talk to him and break it off but now Jungkook was giving you the cold shoulder and you were at a loss of what to do.
“I’m sorry…” You sighed, glancing at your feet as you stopped in front of your apartment complex, “You paid for me to listen to you- not the other way around.” You rubbed the back of your neck and you could feel your face heating up as you frowned before looking up at him.
Alex found himself laughing, looking down at you with a smile as he shook his head, “I paid for your opinion on what I should do, and in the end it was the same as Minjun’s. I just needed to hear it from someone else, the least I can do is listen to you as well. Besides, it seemed like you needed to blow off some steam, you and your mentor seem like you have a pretty intense relationship.”
Sighing you gave a weak smile, “Yeah that’s one way to put...anyways thank you for walking me home. Tell me how it goes with Jiwoo when you get the courage to confess.” He laughed before nodding and saying goodbye.
Just like most days you were drained and ready to sleep off the day, you had hoped today would be the day you’d talk to Jungkook again, but all it ended with was even more strain between you both. Dejectedly you pulled out the key from your bag as you stood in front of your door before going to unlock it.
You paused at noticing it already half shut, you always locked the door before leaving...Warily you glanced around your surroundings before pushing the door open. Everything seemed in its normal place and undisturbed, the few lights you left on were still bright and it wasn’t until you saw the figure sitting at your table, a cold cup of coffee next to him that you scoffed with raised brows, “Hanjae? What the hell are you doing here?”
It made sense of course, but you couldn’t keep the surprised look off your face. When you said you’d talk later this was not what you meant. Hanjae took a sip of his drink before he rose his brows, “Here to talk. Where the hell have you been? It’s almost four in the morning!”
Closing your eyes you groaned, you were tired, both physically and emotionally and you really didn’t want to do this right now. You had been planning a whole speech to let him down as gently as possible, but due to his force of hand you were just going to have to be blunt, “Does it matter? Look, I’m gonna be forward with you, Hanjae. We’re done, I’ve done a lot of thinking the past week and I don’t love you. You don’t love me, it doesn’t make sense for us to stay together.” You wished your tone was gentle, you wished you could give him a soft expression. You wished for a lot of fucking things today but none of that was going to happen and you weren’t about to start here.
Hanjae almost instantly shot up from his chair, “I do love you! Why is that so fucking difficult for you to understand? I’m not just going to sit here and let you ruin our relationship because you’ve let even more bad influences in your life. Who the hell was that by the way?” He almost sneered out, his expression flaring and you had already pulled out your phone.
You had never seen him so tense before and so much strong anger in his voice, it admittedly scared you, “He’s a coworker I hang out with- Would you stop saying everyone I hang out with a bad influence?” You turned away from him with gritted teeth, hurriedly texting the only person you could think of to come get you, Rosé. You knew if Jungkook got involved things would escalate, Hanjae knew where Seulgi lived and of course Namjoon and Seokjin were still at work.
“I’m sorry you still have feelings- but I don’t okay?” You turned to face him, already hearing the notification from Rosé and hoping she was on her way, “I don’t know if I ever did honestly. Can you please just go? I’m tired and I need to sleep. I wish I could give you another answer but I’m breaking up with you Hanjae, I can’t keep living like this.” You stepped away, originally going to open the door and see him out but you were automatically yanked back by his harsh grip on you.
Hanjae instantly had you pinned to the wall, his grip bruising your upper arms as he snarled, “You think you have a choice in breaking up with me? Sorry baby but I lead this relationship and it isn’t over until I say so.” The nickname you had become so used to Jungkook using sounded like venom on his lips as you instantly shifted wincing in pain, “Now let’s go to bed so you can sleep off this ridiculous bullshit.”
“You’re fucking pyschotic!” You snapped out as he began to shuffle you both away from the wall as you tried to pull from his grip, “Hanjae stop!” His grip on you only got tighter as you winced again, hearing another notification go off on your phone, “Our relationship is over whether you like it or not you aren’t going to change my mind!”
You were pushed back against the wall again, this time pain throbbing your back as Hanjae snapped down at you, furious at your words despite their truth, “Oh and who’s gonna stop me huh? Not your little shitty friend, nobody wants you angel hate to be that wake up call but the only person on this planet willing to give you the time of day is me. You think he’ll ever care about you the way I do? He won’t.” You weren’t sure if the tears watering in your eyes was from the pain shooting in your arms from his grip or because of his words. Hanjae’s grip on you was suddenly broke at the shocking sight of blonde hair.
Your vision was blurred from your tears but the very clear image of Jimin was seared into your mind with one of the most scary glares you had ever seen, Rosé was suddenly by your side, arm wrapped around you with her own frightened expression as Jimin demanded you both go. Rosé was quick to guide you out of your apartment, hurriedly getting you down both sets of stairs and into the car that had been parked as she sat in the back seat with you, “Fucking christ,” She murmured out, “I was scared shitless when I got your text! A-are you okay? Did he hurt you?” You hadn’t even realized how badly you were shaking until she wrapped both of her arms around you, hugging you tightly.
“I-I’m fine...just…” You couldn’t form any words, mainly in shock at just how psychotic your ex boyfriend had truly become, had he always been like this? Your mind was racing ninety to nothing in trail of figuring out if that was the case. You had always been too intimidated to speak up before hand, generally not liking conflict with your boyfriend. Had you realized it would’ve blown up the way it did, you might’ve never left him out of fear, or alternatively this could’ve been avoided and you would’ve left before he had gotten so attached.
“Hey it’s okay,” Rosé cooed out noticing the tears blurring your vision again as she dug her nose into your hair, “We can talk about it later, you’re safe now.” You finally let a stifled sob escape your throat as you closed your eyes, leaning against her as she stroked your hair, the comfort her warm body brought to you and the distinct smell of perfume calming your senses.
You jumped at the sound of the car door opening, freaked out for a moment at the idea of Hanjae marching down here to get you and force you back into your own home- which he wrongfully invaded due to having knowledge of where you stored your spare key. Instead you were greeted by Jimin who looked extremely ruffled but turned the car on nonetheless before driving back to you assumed Rosé’s home.
The whole ride had been swallowed in silence until you were sat down on the couch of Rosé’s apartment, hers a fair bit nicer than your own and she even had a custom pole placed between the kitchen and living room. She had wrapped a blanket around you and that’s when you noticed all of the pillows and blankets thrown everywhere and a sheet laid out on the ground, “We were having a movie night when you texted,” She explained with a small laugh though you could tell it was sheepish as if trying to lighten the mood, “I’m glad Jimin was here.” Her voice sombered as she sighed.
Jimin leaned back into the couch as he collectively sighed with her and you did as well, all of you looking both drained and exhausted as he asked the million dollar question, “I’m glad I was too...But Y/n, why didn’t you call Jungkook…?” You avoided his gaze that softened as your lips quivered, “You know he would’ve been over in a heartbeat, no matter how petty he is he’d never ignore anyone in that situation, especially you.”
“It’s already been a long night,” You tried to keep your voice level as your eyes began glossing over again, “If he got involved things only would’ve got worse. I’m sorry for bothering you guys…” It was their one day off and you had ruined it, leaving an empty pain in your stomach as your tried to keep your hiccup down your throat.
“Oh honey,” Rosé frowned as she grabbed your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze as her own lips quivered, as if your words deeply upset her even though she refused to let it show on her face, “Never apologize for that, if you hadn’t of texted when you did there’s no telling what would’ve happened. Do you want me to call him…? I’m sure he’d come over immediately.”
You stiffened at the idea, had things not gone the way they did today you would’ve called him yourself, but now? You honestly didn’t want to see him, he hurt you more than you were willing to admit and all you wanted was a few decent hours of sleep.
Both Jimin and Rosé frowned as they exchanged glances, maybe hoping your mentor could give you comfort that you clearly needed, but you weren't sure if you could trust him, not when he had been so hot and cold, and he was so demanding yet callous of your own emotions as if they didn’t exist, it hurt, it hurt just to think about the conversation you had shared with him earlier.
His concern completely overshadowed by his condescension making you feel like you were nothing but a toddler with a lack of good judgement. Having to narrow it down- you supposed what the core of your hurt came from was the fact that his own lack of trust in you was very apparent.
“I just wanna lay down and get some rest…” You wiped your eyes, not realizing the tears that had trickled down your cheeks as Rosé sighed sadly before nodding, pity in her eyes as she stood up, gesturing her arms as you got off the couch, letting her wrap an arm around you before leading you to what you assumed was her room, “You can rest here for the night baby, do you need anything? I have some spare pajamas in my dresser, feel free to raid it for something comfy.”
“I’m okay…” You sniffled out, wiping your eyes before giving her a small smile despite your eyes persisting in their watering, “Thank you…” Rosé gave you a much brighter smile of her own as she nodded, tugging at a strand of your hair before bidding you goodnight.
Being left alone in her room, you took a moment to inhale looking around before ultimately deciding you were comfy enough as it was. All you wanted was nothing more then to crash and sleep away such an awful day, and that was exactly what you did.
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Your body was stiff, tired from being on your feet almost the whole day and your back was aching dully as pain throbbed into your arms at the slightest movement. The pain had waved over you the whole night but it was the delicious smell of pancakes that had you woke up from your deep slumber.
The window had been cracked letting in the nice cool breeze from the morning air and the sun shined through the window delicately, not too bright, but not too grey either. For a brief moment, you had forgotten where you were until memories of the previous night washed over you. Rubbing your eyes you sat up with a wince before groaning, rubbing your back as your face twisted into pain while glancing at your upper arms that sported dark purple bruises in the familiar shape of Hanjae’s hands.
Last night had been very real and the marks that stained your arms was only proof of its existence. It wasn’t until you grabbed your phone from the messy bed, realizing it must’ve fell from your pocket while alseep that you checked the time, eyes almost popping out of your head at the time. You slept in until fucking 9AM? Practice would be over in a half an hour! You could rush to make it but by the time you would’ve got there it would be useless, groaning you flopped down onto the bed as you pressed your hands into your eyes, fuck! Why didn’t they wake you up?
Pushing yourself off the bed you ran a hand through your hair before making your way to the living room, you stopped short at the kitchen though when you saw Jimin flipping the last of his batch of pancakes onto the plate, “Morning, did you sleep well?”
“Why didn’t you guys wake me up!?” You instantly cried out in demand as you trudged over, unable to deny the plate he handed you as your stomach growled, and the smell of pancakes and bacon- though was more of an american style breakfast you’d never deny a sweet treat first thing in the morning.
Jimin flicked your forehead causing you to rub the spot with a whine as he replied, “Babe you just got out of a fight with your ex asshole that was borderline domestic abuse, you deserved a morning to sleep in. Now sit down and eat you can tell me what happened meanwhile.”
You sighed before sitting next to him on the bar countertop, cutting your pancake before shoving as much as your chopsticks would allow into your mouth.
You started at the beginning of the night, explaining to Jimin in detail the reason you had been so adamant about calling Jungkook- even giving him your phone to read through the conversation himself, “Who did you go out with though? If you don’t mind me asking, usually we only take extra cash if a client is looking to buy us for night.” Jimin asked curiously, handing your near dead phone to you as you closed it.
“There was a guy there who needed a second opinion on what to do with a girl he really liked. I’m not stupid Jimin I-...I knew-” You sighed in frustarted, trying to convince yourself more then him as he sighed, gently grasping your shoulder as he gave it a comforting squeeze.
“You’re a grown woman Y/n, I know you aren’t stupid and I would never doubt your judgement with a client. Jungkook is…” He trailed off, thinking for a second before he clacked his lips, “He cares about you, a lot. He cares about all of us to the point he gets overprotective in the process, but it doesn’t change the fact that he cares. He just doesn’t know how to show it, and eventually he pulls away when he feels exposed vulnerability and ends up pushing everyone away to protect himself. Or at least that’s my theory,”
Jimin wrapped an arm around you, delicately to avoid press against the bruising of your arm, “I know it’s frustrating, and isn’t fair for you but Jungkook does care, and if you give him a chance, even if he’s an insufferable ass who doesn’t deserve it-” He cracked a smile making you stifle a giggle, “He will open up, and when that happens…Jungkook is- he’s a good guy, he’s loyal to the ones he loves for life. He’ll defend us in a heartbeat and would never turn any of us away when we’re in need. But he’s still human Y/n. He has a lot of toxic traits and faults he has to work on, we all do if you wanna put it into perspective.”
“You are right…” You sighed, glancing down at your lap as you sighed, taking in Jimin’s words. He was right of course, Jungkook...for all the bad that had happened so quickly, you had plenty of good memories of him as well. He really was someone you’d like to go too in a time of need, and you were sure Jimin was right, he’d throw hands with any soul that dared cross his friends. But you couldn’t help but feel a little apprehensive still, “I just...I need to see that from him, himself. You know?”
Jimin gave your shoulders one last squeeze before he let go nodding, cracking another smile as he laughed, “Oh you’ll see, if you stick with that dense asshole he’ll prove himself, he always does.” You couldn’t help but smile a little at his words, Jimin seemed closed to Jungkook, at least enough to be one hundred percent confident in him. You could only hope, maybe one day you’d be able to say the same. But right now, your feelings were wilted and crumbled and the hurt that had been stabbed at you from so many directions had took a heavy toll on you both emotionally and physically.
All you wanted now was to at least make things right with Jungkook, and then you’d at least be back on the right path to building a proper relationship with him again. You ended up finishing breakfast before taking you home, explaining Rosé decided to head into practice and smooth things over with Jungkook as best she could while explaining to him what had taken place the night before with Hanjae.
You were surprised mainly because he had yet to text you all day, she must’ve did a good job. Jimin had made sure to come inside with you for a few minutes to make sure the apartment was vacant and thankfully it was. You had sent him off with a thank you and goodbye before allowing yourself to relax, you rarely ever skipped classes but today, you’d make an exception.
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It had been a few days more of a half a month you had been working at Cherry Bomb and not in one single of those days, did you feel replenished and renewed as tonight as you packed up for work. You had laid around the majority of the day, did some cleaning and tended to your little succulents. It was such a nice change of pace and you had been a happy camper all around before heading off to work.
All of the negative energy you had been so bogged down and for once, you were glad you decided to stay in. Your physical health had took such a beating for so long you hadn’t even realized how taxing and exhausting your everyday schedule was.
Pushing the doors open to Cherry Bomb you had been determined to perform your best tonight and hopefully make a little more money than the night before. You had only danced yesterday and tonight would be your last chance for the week as upper management, like you had been told, mainly kept you working on the floor.
Taking a seat at the wide vanity you ignored everyones comments and occasional stares as you begun your makeup making sure the crease had been cut sharp and hopefully this pair of fake lashes wouldn’t end in ruins like your pair last night had. Spraying the setting spray on you stood up before getting changed into the black minidress, the lace bodysuit you wore underneath was where it counted due to its deep plunge and even with the dress on you could feel the pressure of cleavage sticking against the tight material.
Sitting back down once more you had pulled on the fishnet stockings, making sure to fasten them as well as you could to your garter belt before putting on your heels and making your way backstage. Tonight was all about your celebration this far into your new, hopefully short lived, career.
Leaning back against the pole you had waited for the first few counts before turning to face the audience, letting the music take over with more ease then the first few times you had been on stage. Letting your hands drag up your body as you sunk down to your knees, something about performing had changed or maybe it was the day of being able to relax that had helped?
You weren’t sure what had changed but you enjoyed it and clearly the crowd did as well when you felt the money pile around you. You were positive the feeling would never get old.
After the song had ended you quickly gathered the money before blowing a kiss to the crowd with a smile before heading backstage, pulling the robe over your body you sat down in your chair as you neatly stacked the ones and began to excitedly count them.
“I wish the others weren’t such hardasses, I mean it’s hard to not feel at least a little bit bad for her,” You paused at the sound of a fillers voice, there were only two other girls in the room- poledancers if you remembered correctly, “She’s just a trainee- and to be put in that position.” The girl sighed sinking into her seat.
“What?” You couldn’t help but ask as you raised your brows, curiosity filling you, you were aware you weren’t the only trainee at Cherry Bomb, what had happened? You found, the pole dancers were a little nicer than the dancers, they wouldn’t blow you off, right?
The girl frowned as she answered, “Oh we just had a code black happen- one of the girls got sexually harassed. Sounded pretty bad,” She explained while cringing slightly, pity in her eyes before humming, “What was her name….?” She glanced towards her friend.
The other shrugged before putting on her heels, “Um...Seulgi I think?”
You instantly shot up out of your chair, your heart dropping into your stomach at the sound of your friend's name. It couldn’t have been Seulgi, right!? Right? Your heart rate had spiked and your hands were shaky as you bolted for the door, the need to find your bestfriend flooding your whole body as you pushed through the hallway.
You had almost crashed into Namjoon as you both locked eyes, almost as if he knew your exact thoughts he instantly grabbed your forearm leading you through the busy hallway, “She’s in Hoseok’s dressing room, nothing actually happened but the guy came pretty close. Seokjin’s with her right now while security and Hoseok are taking care of the guy.” He stopped in front of the plagued door with Hoseok’s name on it before opening it.
Your heart dropped into your stomach at the sight of your friend, tears streaming down her face and her whole body violently shaking while covering in a flimsy robe. Seokjin sat by her, making sure to keep his distance while murmuring soft words of comfort to her when you quickly entered into the room.
As soon as you sat down Seulgi lunged for you, wrapping her arms around you as she sobbed, “I-I was so scared!” You buried your nose into her hair, eyes watering at the messy state your friend had been left in as you stroked her back, “It’s okay, you’re safe now, you’re safe Seulgi.” But she only kept incoherently babbling as she sobbed against you, her breathing heavy and uneven as you squeezed her tightly.
You were absolutely horrified and felt completely helpless, unable to do anything to reverse the damage that had been done. You understood that risks of your job, but too actually see it. Too actually endure your bestfriends sobs because someone tried to force themselves on her? It broke you to your very core leaving nothing but an angry void left.
Your job didn’t give anyone the right to do that! Stripper or not you were still human, you still deserved to be treated as such and yet here your bestfriend was with that very right almost ripped away from her.
Hearing the door open you noticed it was Hoseok, his knuckles were bruised and swollen but his eyes locked onto his trainee as hurried into the room, sitting down on the couch as Seulgi instantly launched herself into him, the shaking of her body ceasing as she buried into his neck as he softly comforted her. The sight broke your heart.
You noticed the other soloist’s filing in all with broken expressions as Rosé’s lips quivered, “Is she okay…?” You wordlessly nodded, your eyes staying on Seulgi’s curled up position, unable to fully process the sight before your eyes. Seulgi had always been the stronger one out of you two, she was always the one hugging you when you cried. To see her so weak, so vulnerable the pain ached in your chest for your friend, feeling a little better to see her mentor already helping her recover even in the smallest way.
Seokjin stood up as he sighed, finally speaking up over the heavy, thick tension of the room, “I’ll handle things with Sejin and Bang, everyone should get back to work, are you clocking out Hoseok?” He glanced towards the male as he asked, a soft note in his voice as he backed towards the door.
Hoseok nodded, his eyes only flickering to everyone else for a brief moment as he answered, “Yeah, I’m gonna stay with her. I can handle things from here.” The air was still somber and only Seulgi’s cries filled the room as everyone slowly dispersed. You didn’t want to leave Seulgi alone but you knew it was for the best, she was in good hands with her mentor and you knew if it was you…
You let your eyes trail to the only figure that lingered: Jungkook stood as if waiting for you, his eyes meeting yours for the first time in what felt like forever, his expression was unreadable but heavy making you break his gaze as you sighed.
You weren’t sure what you would’ve done, or who you would’ve went too if it happened to you, if anyone at all. Standing up you wrapped your arms around yourself, checking the clock only too see your next groups dance had just finished on stage. At least you’d be able to go home and sleep off the day, it seemed those were filling your week more and more.
Closing the door you could barely let go of the knob before you were suddenly hauled into a tight embrace causing you to jolt at the unexpected skinship, “Fuck- you scared me to death...” Jungkook’s voice was muffled as he buried his nose into the crook of your neck, his chest pressing firmly into your back and his arms kept you locked into place, “I’m sorry,” those were the next words to tumble out of his lips as he squeezed you a little tighter, “God- I’m- I’m so sorry Y/n. I didn’t have any right to treat you the way I did and- and I don’t- fuck I’m sorry.”
Your lips were already quivering and you were well aware of the wet, warm tears rolling down your cheeks, you hadn’t realized how much you missed him until he was right behind you, apologies escaping his lips left and right, “Shhh don’t cry babygirl, I know I was a total asshole and I don’t have a good explanation and I have no right to ask but please forgive me.” His words only spurred your tears more as you let your shoulders bounce from the gentle sob that escaped your lips making him hug you tighter.
“It- It fucking hurt- you know that? You have some- some...nerve to just swoop in and try to fix everything with a hug,” You finally spoke trying to keep your voice from cracking as you attempted to keep your voice level with the tears streaming down your cheeks, “And- and fuck you! Because it’s working and I- I hate it! You’re such a dick!” You snapped with a sob while babbling, his grip on you loosened and you could even hear a faint laugh escape his lips as you stomped your foot, “I’m- I’m being serious!” You really weren’t but your petty anger was getting the better of you despite your sniffle.
“I know you are babygirl,” Jungkook murmured, his voice a little amused and for the first time, you were relieved to hear his nickname for you escape his lips, as it turns out you prefered it on his lips more then your own name, “I am a dick,” His voice sombered as he sighed, “You’re too good for me babygirl...I know I don’t deserve it but I still want you as my trainee: mine. You don’t have to stay...but-”
“I’m not leaving Cherry Bomb you dipshit!” You cried out indignantly before finally turning around and throwing your arms around his neck, pulling him now as you buried your face into his neck, “Yes you pissed me off- made me cry more than humanly possible but I’m also aware of how much of a sensitive piece of shit I am,” You sighed before tightening your grip around him, not realizing just how much you had genuinely missed Jungkook, you missed his banter and his dumb smirks and innunedos that had you snapping at him with blushing cheeks, you missed the way he called you babygirl or insisted on another silly petname instead of just using your real name, you missed him, “I’m not leaving Jungkook.”
You felt his previously tense body suddenly relax at your words as his grip on you tightened, despite the short time you knew him, you also saw him everyday, almost all day long. Jungkook had become a big part of your life, you didn’t want to lose him when he always brightened your day.
“Thank you.” He murmured gently, pressing his forehead into your shoulder before pressing a gentle kiss against the skin, eyes closed as he murmured, “Stay the night with me baby, I...ah fuck- I can’t…” he exhaled sharply as if annoyed with himself at being unable to form a proper sentence, “So much shit has happened and a lot of it’s my fault. I was freaking the fuck out when I saw you leave with that guy- I can’t...I could never- and then Hanjae? That guy…” His jaw was clenched and you could hear the brittle anger in his voice, “I swear I could fucking kill him...And then the code black-?”
He stopped short of his sentence, forehead still pressed into your shoulder and his eyes squeezed tightly shut as his arms coiled around you further, “When they said trainee I- I- fuck- I thought it was you. After everything that’s happened? I’m already pissed at myself but if that happened-...I’d never forgive myself, just please, stay with me tonight I don’t want you away from me after everything that’s happened.” His voice was near pleading, and his grip had become tight as if you disappear if he let go, he pressed another kiss into your shoulder as if hoping maybe it would entice you.
But all it did was soften your bruised heart, despite all of the hurt you had been through. There was no other arms you’d rather be in then Jungkook’s.
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Digging through your bag you sighed, you hadn’t actually packed anything comfy for after work and stood on the cold tile floor of Jungkook’s bathroom that extended from his room, dejectedly looking down at your bag in disappointment as you tugged on the uncomfortable material of your jeans, the cropped top wouldn’t do either given you had begun wearing thongs outside of work to try and become more accustomed to the feeling.
You almost let out a whine at your luck before you sighed, unlocking the door you poked your head out as you felt your cheeks begin to burn, “Guk…”
“Hm?” He was laid out on the bed, his eyes had been previously closed and for once, you could notice the dark circles under his eyes and he looked exhausted. Opening his eyes he glanced towards you in acknowledgement.
“Do you have a shirt I can borrow…?” You felt embarrassment wash over you at the sound of his soft laugh as he got up from his bed, walking over to his dresser as he pulled out one of his infamous, large white t-shirts before walking up to the door, his eyes drinking up the bare skin of your collarbones as you grabbed the shirt with a timid, ‘thank you’ before closing the door.
Sighing you wanted to slam your head into the wall, you had stayed the night with plenty of guys before-...well only once outside of Hanjae- and even he usually preferred going over to your house. But something felt so intimate about staying with Jungkook, you couldn’t quite place your finger on it.
Pulling your clothes off you sighed before unhooking your uncomfortable bra and pulling the shirt over your head. You almost blushed instantly at the way his shirt drowned your body, the distinct smell of his cologne bringing you a strong sense of security that made you snuggle further into the material, Hanjae rarely ever let you wear his clothes, you always wondered why. It was so nice being in oversized shirts and hoodies.
The edge of the shirt dropped to the mid of your thighs and there was more than plenty of room to spare up top due to the stretch his broad shoulders made on the shirt, it was undeniably him. Just him. Opening the door you shuffled, feeling his eyes already on your figure as he drinked up the sight making you shift bashfully.
Just seeing the tired, sleepy smirk on his face had your ears hot red making his lips crack into a smile as he lifted his arms, “C’mere.” It was embarrassing how it only took one word for you to practically flop on top of him. Dropping your head down onto his chest you felt his arms loosely wrap over you as you yawned, an immediate tiredness washing over your eyes while bathed in his warmth.
“I can’t believe he did that…” You poked your head up in confusion at his words, his hand slipping down to your upperarm before gently thumbing the dark bruise, you instantly winced even under his gentle touch making his gaze darken slightly, “Why didn’t you call me babygirl?” He sounded a little hurt, even looked a little hurt as he frowned, closing his eyes as he dropped his head back against the pillow and returned his arm back around you.
“We both know things would’ve got way out of hand if I did…” You murmured, a bit of guilt stabbing in your stomach at the realization you didn’t trust him like you should’ve, even after your argument over text, he should’ve been your go to…”I’m sorry…”
Jungkook rolled over to his side, letting you both adjust before he grabbed at the back of your thigh, pulling it over his waist to cuddle you closer, “It’s fine babygirl- I know our texts probably didn’t help…” He sighed, pressing his forehead against yours as he closed his eyes, his fingers brushing against the side of your body, “Just...please call me next time- I don’t care what’s going on between us- I...I’m your number one okay? When you’re in trouble.” His arm suddenly squeezed around you, “You go to me. I never want you to feel like I wouldn’t protect you.” He muttered more to himself than you. You could feel whatever pressure had been left in your chest lift at his words, making you close your eyes as you pulled closer to him. For the first time in your life, you really did feel safe.
You felt yourself becoming sleepier by the second at the feeling of his fingers gently stroking your side, swirling random, gentle patterns into the soft material of his shirt you wore before letting them trail down to your hips. Focusing on the light brush of his fingertips as you let your eyes fall shut, they were warm and left a little tingling against the open skin of your thigh.
“Is that a thong?” You had never jumped harder out of a half sleep state as you did in that moment, Jungkook’s tone huskier as his lips brushed over your ear, you couldn’t tell if it was because he was half asleep himself or aroused, maybe both.
You attempted to scurry away from him as you sputtered, “I- I! I was almost asleep you pervert!” Your face was practically boiling alive and the flare in your ears returned as Jungkook quickly pulled you back against him, his lips pressing into your neck as if too try and sooth your embarrassment, “But you weren’t fully asleep,” Jungkook purred out, his tone sleepy as well his hand on the back of your thigh to pull it over his waist, this time hiking it higher forcing the shirt to lift up exposing your previously covered ass to the cold nip of the room.
“Mmm lace looks so good on you babydoll.” Jungkook rasped in your ears making you whine as you wiggled in his arms, his words, had almost shamefully made you wet. His hand instantly slipped up your thigh to cup one cheek before kneading against it making you involuntarily try to grind closer to him, “Jungkook!” You whined out making him chuckle before rolling you both over, caging you between his arms as you shrank as far into the mattress as you could.
You had been in many positions with Jungkook, but never truly underneath him on a bed. Seeing him hover over you, tired without a doubt but arousal glazing his eyes already had you worked up and he hadn’t even done anything, “So…” He licked his lips, a smirk quirking on his mouth as he let one hand stroke your hipbone making you lift them along with his stroke, “Feels like we’ve had this conversation before,”
You almost wanted to wack him on the head as you resisted the urge to roll your eyes at his dumb smile, “But you can just tell me to get off you,” He leaned in, sucking gently against your neck making your breath hitch as you squirmed beneath him, “You needed time to think things over with Hanjae…” you shuddered at the feeling of his warm tongue running over your skin, “Just say the word and we can go to bed.” He teased as he nipped at your skin again, his hands indulging as they ran over the side of your body.
“I broke up with him.” He abruptly stopped before sitting up making you strangle to keep the whine of objection leaving your lips as you lifted yourself onto your forearms, “What…?”
He store at you for a whole five seconds, pupils a little wide as he breathed out while running a hand through his hair, “Thank god…” he looked extremely relieved, a brief smile pulling on his lips as he lunged back down at you before playfully adding, “There can only be one daddy in your life babygirl and you know I was willing to fight him for it.”
“You are unbelievable!” You cried out making him laugh, his smile pressed against your skin as he excitedly pushed his hands under your shirt like a kid in a candy shop making you squirm. His hands were warm and the calloused brushed against your skin in all the right ways, “He wasn’t a daddy anyways.”
“Fuck,” He paused briefly as he pressed his forehead against your chest, “You sound so hot when you say that baby.” His words were sent straight to your already throbbing wet pussy that had you rubbing your thighs together, you assumed he was joking about being your daddy but somehow it really wasn’t surprising to quickly figure out he wasn’t.
The idea had you soaked and you were sure there was an embarrassing wet mark by now as Jungkook sat up, his eyes lidded as he licked his lips, pushing the shirt over your chest making you squeak, the warm confines of the material no longer covering you, leaving your nipples hard against the cold air of the room and your cheeks burning in opposition, “Don’t you dare cover yourself now baby,” Jungkook instantly grabbed your wrists stopping them as you whined shuffling beneath him, “Mmm, you’re so pretty baby,” He cooed out soothingly noticing your nervous shift of body, wrists still pinned by him as he licked a trail up your stomach leaving you arching your back for more as his foreplay nearly killed you.
Jungkook smirked against your skin, as if knowing you were putty in his hands and ready to be played with. The sexual tension had been killer between you both even now after being apart for those short few days, in fact, the absence only made his tongue feel that much better as he dragged it over your left nipple popping it into his mouth.
“Jungkook!” You whined trying to kick your feet beneath him as impatience built inside you, you weren’t used to so much foreplay and honestly it wasn’t even needed, all Jungkook had to say was one word for you to be soaked.
You felt a hard sting against your thigh making you cry out with a whimper at his hand that had just popped against your thigh leaving it with a slight throb of pain, “You know I really can’t stand brats,” Jungkook almost growled, a hand slotting between your thighs making you clamp around it, “You’re gonna be daddy’s good babygirl and wait, right?” His hand cupped your throbbing core as he squeezed it making you whine as you nodded, your back aching at being arched once more while his tongue returned to your other nipple, “Right?” He spanked your thigh once more, a little harder as it burned into your skin making you jump with a breathy moan.
“Yes...daddy.” You swallowed thickly, embarrassment covering your whole body as you looked up at him, his eyes completely engulfed on your figure before letting out a moaned sigh of his own, as if waiting for you to say those words.
Just as he was about to lean back over you a loud knock had echoed throughout the house causing you to jump, anxiety pouring through your whole body as you let out a panicked noise, Jungkook had instantly pulled your shirt back over yourself, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck as he cooed, “Hey shhh, you’re safe babygirl.” Your hands were still shaky with adrenaline at being planted back into reality as another more impatient knock came from the front door, “Let me get the door, I’ll be right back.” He pressed a kiss against your forehead before getting up and exiting the room.
You almost immediately collapsed against the bed, your body feeling like jello as you ran a hand through your hair, holy shit. Maybe that interruption was for the best, you weren’t sure you were ready for Jungkook, mainly too embarrassed at how noisy you had become, how he got you so easily wet. It must’ve been painfully obvious that despite not being a virgin you still weren’t experienced in bed.
One minute, turned into two, and then two turned into three and briefly you started to become worried. Was everything okay? Did he end up leaving with whoever was at the door? And furthermore, who was at the door at this hour? It was almost five in the morning. You felt worry shoot through your body as you fidgeted against the soft bed, he was okay, right?
Just as you let worry take over you relaxed at Jungkook’s returned figure, you quickly frowned at his expression, he looked even more tired then he had when he first brought you home. His face drained of nearly any emotion as he sighed, running a hand through his hair, “Sorry for the interruption,” He climbed back over you but you could tell whatever had happened- whoever was at the door.
He almost looked numb as he leaned down to press back against your neck.
Abruptly you pressed your hands against his shoulders making him pause as you finally asked, concern written in your voice, “Jungkook...are you okay?”
Silence filled the room for a brief moment, and that moment turned into a full minute before you felt him bury into your neck, and after another moment you felt his shoulders shake and the wet substance of tears drip against your skin that made your heart completely splinter. He was completely silent but his shoulders were shaking and you could hear a breathy light sob if you strained as his grip on you tightened.
Instantly you had your arms wrapped around him as you let your hand tangle into his hair, it had been such a long night already and just hearing him cry, feeling his tears drop against your skin made you hold him closer as you whispered, “Everything is gonna be okay Guk.” You pressed a kiss against the top of his head. You didn’t know why he was crying, and it didn’t matter, he had you to wipe his tears away and you weren’t about to let go of him.
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Note: :) I quite like the ending of this chapter how do u guys feel though? 🤔 lots too process here 
Taglist: @loveherpersona @megladon1616 @pearlneedstosleep @sincerelyjeohn @jungkookies-golden-noona @ironically-indifferent96 @epiphany-playingwithfire @maboiisuga @kookphoria91 @taehyungiev13 @134340ismybitch @appreciatethefoolishness @hanhannguyen98 @lurkerarmy @lovelyjikook @repeating-seesaw-game @serendipity-secrets @kimvantaee @forevermoremagcon @timestandstillalittle @yanmi1 @expensive-bangtan-girl @blxckeffect @egyptianwitchbutwithab @kimcheeeeeeeeee @rather-not-sayy @pastel-i-decay @taeass @caitlinmarieeblossom @bokuandcoconutsarelife @desires-ss @jishookedout134 @369girlswannadrinkwine @flowingwiththewater @w-ing-ss
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1K notes ¡ View notes
sburbian-sage ¡ 4 years
Text
Strifing Without Specibus: How To Weaponize Your Sylladex & Other Harming Implements
One’s Strife Specibus is one of the more important tools in the game. Defending from Underlings and PK’ers, facing down the final bosses and Unreal Heirs, fruitless sparring with your Guardians and Coplayers, and the time honored tradition of getting into dick-measuring contests with your friends, seeing who can make the coolest or most absurd method. Some people allocate their Specibus accidentally, but as their improvised weaponry grows on them, they “main” it, trying as hard as they can to keep using it in future sessions. Your average Player will use a variety of Strife Specubi, from typical weapons like bladekind, pistolkind, and hammerkind, to weird choices like bookkind, peprmillkind, or rulerkind (measuring sticks, not governing bodies). Some people choose theirs because they like it, some choose for versatility, and some choose for metagaming purposes.
Sometimes though, the Strife Specibus isn’t enough. You’ve got some wimpy kiddy scissors that just won’t cut it while an Ogre prepares to swing. You’ve got a lance, but a winged Imp flies out of reach. You’ve got enough mangrit to toss a dryer, which you conveniently have on-hand, but no dryerkind, and the strange abstracted game-y nature of reality thus prevents you from attacking with it. In such cases, instead of un-abstracting your Strife Deck for the purposes of tossing it on the floor and stepping on it, perhaps you should get good and learn how to weaponize your Sylladex.
We’ve all been there. We’re having trouble fighting things, so your smarmy know-it-all friend tells you “a hyuk hyuk why dont u fite with your sllyadex yuo fucking scrub” and then doesn’t tell you how to actually do it. So you flail around, then learn how to do it kind of, and then stop doing it and rely on your Strife Specibus. Then years later, someone with less experience than you is having trouble fighting things, so you tell them “a hyuk hyuk why dont u fite with your sllyadex yuo fucking scrub". With typos, because you’ve turned into a silly mspaint strawman comic man. And then you cry. It’s a vicious, dehumanizing cycle, and you probably want to punch that guy or yourself, but you can’t because you don’t have fistkind you fucking scrub. You also can’t throw stuff at him, because you learned the bare basics of Sylladex fighting so you’re very shitty at it. So I’m going to help you break that cycle, and teach you actual lessons of fighting with your Sylladex. That way, you can walk right up to that dude, then toss a bunch of cream pies at him, then watch him scream and cry like a silly mspaint strawman comic man. Then you can do it to your past self. Then go mad with the power of throwing things.
The Fundaments: How Do I Shot Web?
I wrote this section after all the others because I realized too late that some of you might not even know the basics of weaponizing your Sylladex. That’s sad and pathetic, but it’s not unlikely, and best to put it here now rather than get accused of putting the cart before the horse later. Basically, you know how if your Sylladex is full, if you captchalogue something else, it goes flying out at high speeds? This is the mechanic you are exploiting. Catchaloguing an item such that it ejects something you’re holding on. The following section will be divided into Taos (even more fundamentals) and Zens (more advanced tricks), because I read a book that did this once and I thought that was cool.
Also, you should know that Hope players will be better than you at this. [Eject] is a Hope-exclusive ability that automatically ejects something from their Sylladex, and it’s very easy to learn, and it completely removes half the challenge from weaponizing your Sylladex (that is, finding something to put into the thing). While you’re scrambling for rocks so you can launch your fridge, they’ll be launching fridges at a whim. If you’re not a Hope player, then do what everyone else does. Bitch about it and move on.
Tao of Sylladex Strife: Know Your Fetch Modus
If you’re going to be using your Sylladex to fight, know how it works. Even babies know how to pick stuff up, but sometimes babies get confused by how their particular Fetch Modus actually works. And maybe you’ll get confused even if you’re not a baby (read: teenager), particularly if you get dropped into a new Session and the guy whose place you’re taking is a hipster and decided to grab one of the most esoteric Fetch Modi known to man. So make sure, before you even THINK of mis-using your Sylladex for violent purposes, that you understand how it works. And check the back, because there might be settings.
Once you’ve done that, you need to re-learn it again. This time, understand how it works in combat. Particularly, how does it eject, and how can you use it? FIFO and FILO Sylladice will eject the earliest item. Hashmap ejects the item occupying the slot you’re attempting to fill. Tree doesn’t eject so much as stuff falls. Array is wonderful for inventory management (even though I prefer Index), but it ejects stuff randomly. Enabling the “detect collisions” setting also makes inventory management easier, but considerably slows down the speed at which you can weaponize your Sylladex. How long does it take to actually captchalogue items? Is it complicated, or unwieldy? When something gets ejected, how does it fly? It’s somewhat complex, re-assessing your understanding of your Sylladex, but some general tips are as follows.
Knowing what will eject is better than random ejection.
More space means more stockpiling, but it becomes harder to keep track of your stuff.
Less space means you know your inventory better, but you have less room to maneuver and can’t stockpile as well.
Turn off “detect collisions” if you want to use your Sylladex in battle.
Short and uncomplicated captchalogue mechanics are better.
Tao of Sylladex Strife: Know Your Inventory
Now that you understand how your Fetch Modus functions, you need to understand its contents. Your Sylladex will serve two functions. An inventory, and an arsenal. “Inventory” basically means “stuff for use in puzzles and alchemy”, “arsenal” means “stuff I will use to commit murder with”. Just as it’s good to have a Fetch Modus that can serve those two functions, it’s good to have a balanced inventory. Key items, and tossable junk items. It’s also important that you know what’s going to be used. Safely take out keys, and toss your dishwasher, not the Glass Orb of Not Softlocking The Game.
As for your arsenal, understand what does and doesn’t make an effective weapon. Straight razors and sharp and fly fast and long, but they’re small and might break. Fridges are big and heavy, so they’ll do a lot of damage, but also destroy the environment and have bad range. Make sure as shit you’re out of range of your impact bombs when you let them loose, and don’t toss garden gnomes if you’re trying to knock back a Giclops. While they fill the role of bullets (with the Sylladex as the gun), they’re more like specialized tools that are all used by hurling them at people you don’t like.
Tao of Sylladex Strife: Know Your Surroundings.
Understanding your battlefield is not only important in general warfare, it’s also important when considering your throwables. While most Players who stick to their guns (so to speak) will mainly traverse their Land only looking for that which is essential to winning the game, you need to traverse it while understanding it on two levels.
The first level is the Strategic Level. Understanding your Land as a whole, and how to utilize the TOYS (Tools Of Your Surroundings) within. If you find yourself low on Sylladex weapons, where you can stock up, and what will you be stocking up on? What’s the fastest route to those locations from where you are? Does a certain location have better weaponry for the specific foes you’ll face later on? Stuff like that.
The second level is the Tactical Level. This is understanding your immediate surroundings while in a fight. What items can you quickly get to? Which ones should be used for ejection, which are best for softening the enemy up, and which are best for dealing lethal blows? Is it at all possible to make new items, like smashing the tile floors or breaking a window and captchaloguing the ensuing debris?
It’s a bit difficult to give blanket lessons on this Tao, but it’s always keep an analytical eye. You should know where your TOYS are before you need them, lest you get caught with your pants down.
Zen of Sylladex Strife: Art of the Adventure Gamer
You could tag SBURB as a lot of games. AR MMO survival psychological action adventure with house sim elements. Early-access too, considering how shitty it is. But don’t forget the adventure part. Have you ever played those point-and-click adventure games like Monkey Island or Sam & Max, and been amused with how the protagonists will take completely random and sometimes absurd objects because they could be useful? Well stop smiling, because they’re always right and you need to start doing that too.
First of all, you should already have been doing that. SBURB is also a puzzle game, and not only can potentially any item help you with puzzles, but every item could be useful for Alchemy purposes. Well now you need to add “killing stuff” to the list of potential uses for every item. Diagnose yourself with severe kleptomania and start acting like it. Grab everything you can! Use everything on everything! Stack up on Captchalogue Cards! Seriously, they’re dirt cheap for the Alchemiter. And speaking of Alchemy...
Zen of Sylladex Strife: Alchemy Isn’t Just For Weapons
Everybody loves going down to their Alchemy Pad and making new weapons, new armor, new tools, and a whole lot of useless bullshit. It reminds them of the satisfaction of upgrading their equipment or buying a new level of gear in the other video games they’ve played. Those video games, however, also tend to teach you that upgrading your ammunition or spending money on special ammo is a waste of time. It is, but not necessarily in SBURB. While improvised weaponry for Sylladex fighting is comparable to ammo, the ease of Alchemy means that not only is is usually cheap to make “upgraded ammo”, but they can be pretty effective. For example, throwing a couch at someone will hurt. Steel nails are very easy to acquire. A bit of Grist and the || function later, and you’re throwing a steel couch at someone. Not to mention, like that couch, some ammo is easy to retrieve. So next time you settle down to celebrate Gristmas, consider loading your Sylladex with some harmful objects.
Zen of Sylladex Strife: Mod Your Modus
Now that you know you should know your Sylladex, you should begin experimenting with it. If you can, grab a Modus Control Deck and a couple of extra Fetch Modii. If not, then you could try Alchemy or perhaps programming. Mix-and-match modii until you have something stronger, then once you’re settled, get to understanding that. Try to find a way to circumvent the weaknesses of the one you’re currently using. It’s kind of like sitting down at a gun bench, except your gun should also be able to carry stuff effectively, and is infinitely more confusing to comprehend.
Speaking of the Modus Control Deck, remember that you can use it to change the Fetch Modus you’re currently using. It’s possible to change Fetch Modii manually, but I find the MCD is more elegant and simple. So it might be a good idea to have several Modii for several occasions, and use the one you think you’ll be needing. For example, use something Inventory-suited like Index when exploring, and when you’re expecting a fighter, switch to something Arsenal-suited like Fingerbands. Just remember to not displace the MCD, or you’ll be running around with the one you’re using forever.
Zen of Sylladex Strife: Fighting At Full Power
This is the Zen that makes you feel like a warrior. If you intend to fight with your Sylladex, you need to remember that it is one of at least two weapons at your disposal. You also have a Strife Specibus. You must use both if you want to truly succeed. Throw something heavy at a Giclops, then pepper him with bullets. When locking blades with a Lich, stun him with a surprise vase, then riposte. I once saw a guy with Hammerkind augment the swing of his sledge with a safe going at breakneck speed, so his strike went at terminal velocity and tore a Basilisk in half. You’re going to have to learn how your Strife Specibus factors into all of this, and probably practice, but by mixing conventional warfare with captchalogue warfare, you become significantly harder to predict, and much more deadly.
57 notes ¡ View notes
thisweekingundamwing ¡ 4 years
Text
This Week in Gundam Wing July 26 - 01 August 2020
Here’s this week’s roundup!
Remember to give your content creators some love! And join in on the events at the bottom!
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~Mod Hel
Fanfiction/Snippets/AU Ideas:
@bobo-is-tha-bomb​
Unraveled https://archiveofourown.org/works/25379161
F/M, Trowa Barton/Reader
Trowa Barton, Reader
Romance, Fluff, Reader-Insert, Bathing/Washing, ritual bathing
His little witch, he mused with a slight tilt of lips. Even after years of being with you, he still couldn’t get enough of watching you.
Tonight, he vowed, he would keep you company while you bathed.
Lazy Day https://archiveofourown.org/works/25379695
F/M, Heero Yuy/Reader
Heero Yuy, Reader
Romance, Lemon, Lime, Reader-Insert
You would enjoy this day. Every minute of it. And, you vowed, you would have a repeat of it in New York.
Twenty Kisses (Ch. 6 & 7) https://archiveofourown.org/works/24038704/chapters/61620076
F/M, Heero Yuy/Reader
Heero Yuy, Reader
Romance, Kissing, Drabble Collection, Reader-Insert
Kissing Heero is something special.
Deadly Intent https://archiveofourown.org/works/25576657/chapters/62069890
Mature
F/M, Heero/Reader, ???/Reader
Heero Yuy, Duo Maxwell, Wufei Chang, Lady Une, Relena Peacecraft, Reader
Reader Insert, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Drama, Angst, Romance, Violence, Lime
Eleven years is a long time for a ghost to come back and haunt him. But Heero Yuy finds himself unable to dodge or outrun it. It’s the start of a dangerous cat and mouse game between one of the most powerful organizations in the world and a loner who has every intention of dragging him down with her. After all, she has come with deadly intent.
@coffeetailor​
Emergence (Ch. 12) https://archiveofourown.org/works/13322880/chapters/62023231
Duo Maxwell/Heero Yuy
Duo Maxwell, Heero Yuy, Quatre Raberba Winner, Trowa Barton, Chang Wufei, Sally Po
Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, borrowers fusion but don't call them borrowers, disturbing themes like people trafficking from the bad guys, Size Difference, Will probably be a series, alternate canon events, Macro/Micro
Series: Part 1 of Emergence Series
When the war ended, things went a little strange. First, Duo vanished after never having let them see him in person. Then, years later, a tiny race of people are discovered. And that's just the start of things.
@lifeaftermeteor​
LAM!Verse https://lifeaftermeteor.tumblr.com/post/625293600094355456/private-island-location-redacted-fiji-south
Private Island [location redacted]
Fiji, South Pacific
14 August 211
Une and Sally arrived on-island to blue skies, a functioning jeep, and a personal escort by Lucrezia Noin.
perryvic & Zaganthi (Caffiends)
All Go Unto Once Place https://archiveofourown.org/works/25520368
M/M, Chang Wufei/Treize Khushrenada
Treize Khushrenada, Quatre Raberba Winner,  Change Wufei
Cameos, Anxiety, Mental Health Issues, Aftermath of Torture, ZERO System (Gundam Wing), Alternate Universe - Stargate Atlantis Fusion
He chose the study because it was formal and the least used room in the house, and brought in coffee and water because he needed something to do with his hands. "I'm sorry to request the house call. I haven't been in a reliable enough state to leave the house."
"I quite understand," Bedelia murmured. "Is this the place you feel most comfortable talking?"
He took the coffee and sat in one of the low overstuffed reading chairs rather than at the desk. "Yes. I, what we discussed a couple of weeks ago, you know. Surprising only to me, apparently, it went terribly." He cradled the coffee, watching her select where to sit, posture and movement impeccable as ever.
@simulacraryn​
Higurashi https://archiveofourown.org/works/25592344#main
Heero Yuy 
Higurashi = Mundane life, living hand-to-mouth. This is a VERY old fic of my (from 2008...), about what life might have been like for Heero after the war.
The Manwell
The Silencer and the Sicarian (Ch. 1 & 2) https://archiveofourown.org/works/25478938/chapters/61805053
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Relationships: Trowa Barton/Duo Maxwell, Chang Wufei/Solo
Characters: Duo Maxwell, Trowa Barton, Chang Wufei, Solo (Gundam Wing), Hilde Schbeiker, Catherine Bloom, Kyouju H | Instructor H
Additional Tags: Wufei POV, Duo POV, Trowa POV, Solo POV
Series: Part 4 of The Brothers Maxwell
It was just one vow. A simple but necessary promise to respect life -- both human and fey -- but can Duo hold to it when his resolve is put to the ultimate test?
@tziganecaffiends & Zaganthi (Caffiends)
Dust to Dust https://archiveofourown.org/works/25519633/chapters/61915789
M/M, Chang Wufei/Treize Khushrenada
Treize Khushrenada, Chang Wufei, Mariemaia Khushrenada, Duo Maxwell
Domestic Fluff, Bondage, bottom Treize, Mental Instability, Mental Health Issues, Aftermath of Violence, Aftermath of Torture, Rape Aftermath, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Kidnapping, Subspace, Subdrop, Diplomacy, Alternate Universe - Stargate Atlantis Fusion, ZERO System (Gundam Wing), Graphic Dipictions of Violence
It was unbearable, it was too much, and his heart was trying its best to jump out of his chest. Treize managed to get his knees pulled up, and pressed his forehead against them, struggling to breathe as the anxiety crawled up from his gut and clenched around his heart. Not there, anywhere but there, and he'd been fine seeing it in ZERO, not fine, but okay, livable, but being there, smelling the familiar antiseptic hell and must of the place, took his legs out from under him.
He could play forward on all of the other scenarios he hadn't wanted to explore, and he knew when that door opened it wasn't going to be Wufei. It was never going to be what he'd wanted, no matter hard he'd played at it back home with Wufei.
Fanart/Crafts/Photo Manips:
@2pcbiscuit​
https://2pcb.tumblr.com/post/625195682010120192/am-i-a-furry-artist-now-quatre-is-supposed-to-be
Raccoon!Trowa, and other cute surprises.
@antarespromise​
https://antarespromise.tumblr.com/post/625175674322305024
WuFei Chang
https://antarespromise.tumblr.com/post/625274951362117632
Duo Maxwell
@bobo-is-tha-bomb​
https://bobo-is-tha-bomb.tumblr.com/post/625096842616717312/having-waaaay-too-much-fun-rediscovering-art
Trowa Barton
@grey-sentry​
https://grey-sentry.tumblr.com/post/624917334680829952/next-batch-of-artwork-for-the-gw-art-discord
Heero & Doktor S
https://grey-sentry.tumblr.com/post/624917124777951232/art-made-for-the-gw-art-discord-i-tried-to-follow
Relena & Catherine
@gundayum​
https://gundayum.tumblr.com/post/625232214658056192/i-relish-in-being-a-terrible-human-being
Relena & Heero
@oekakimemo​
https://oekakimemo.tumblr.com/post/625242524130361345/20200728-digital
Relena Darlian/Peacecraft
@tatakaumono​
https://tatakaumono.tumblr.com/post/625240776436252672/its-evens-propaganda-month-dont-tag-as
Quatre/Duo
Photosets/Gifsets/Screenshots/Manga Pages:
@bobo-is-tha-bomb​
https://bobo-is-tha-bomb.tumblr.com/post/625161359751036928/im-so-lucky-to-have-awesome-friends-thank-you
GW T-shirts
@cynthiaandsamus​
https://cynthiaandsamus.tumblr.com/post/625268346914586624/like-everyone-in-gundam-wing-is-a-ridiculously
Zechs Merquise
@janaverse​
https://janaverse.tumblr.com/post/625277358889451521/aannnnndddd-theyre-done-3-the-process-was-a
Heero & Duo silhouettes
https://janaverse.tumblr.com/post/625280260361093120/for-scale-btw-they-are-perfectly-framed-from
For scale - Heero & Duo silhouettes
Head Canons:
@disturbed02girl​
https://disturbed02girl.tumblr.com/post/625254324341194752/gw-fashion-mix-day-off
GW Fashion Mix - Day Off : Duo, Heero, Trowa, WuFei, Quatre
Fandom Discourse:
@lifeaftermeteor​
https://lifeaftermeteor.tumblr.com/post/625289823670927360/whats-all-this-then-although-the-gw-discord
Discord Meet-up! 0900 EST on both Saturday (August 29) and Sunday (August 30)
Quotes:
@incorrectgundamwingquotes​
https://incorrectgundamwingquotes.tumblr.com/post/625002948624318464/iria-father-quatre-youre-family-you-shouldnt
Iria & Rashid
https://incorrectgundamwingquotes.tumblr.com/post/625184158043570177/duo-to-trowa-are-you-trying-to-hurt-my-feelings
Duo at Trowa
Calendar Events:
@gwcocktailfriday​
Cocktail Fridays!
Post responses on Friday, during Happy Hour between 3 & 5 pm in your own timezone.
Here’s the prompt for Friday, August 7th! https://gwcocktailfriday.tumblr.com/post/625255859848642560/cocktail-friday-post-responses-on-friday-august
In need of SUMMER & FALL/AUTUMN prompts!
@gwoc-october​
GW OC October 2020!
Help pick out prompts! https://gwoc-october.tumblr.com/post/621130082429337600/hello-gundam-wing-folks-thats-right-gw-oc
@seasons-of-gundamwing​
Summer of Hilde!
Check the page today! The full prompt list was set to post at 10AM!
We also have an AO3 collection now! Come check it out. https://seasons-of-gundamwing.tumblr.com/post/624191236146855936/seasons-of-gundam-wing-archive
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Events Calendar
https://thisweekingundamevents.tumblr.com/post/624053314842230784/event-calendar-update
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willowfm ¡ 3 years
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heeeeeey  again  besties  !!  it’s  your  favorite  icon  hailey  coming  at  you  with  another  dumpster  fire  .  their  name  is  willow  and  they’re  a  mix  between  a  vodka  aunt  and  stoner  cousin  who’s  an  actual  mom  !!  i  stg  if  one  of  you  says  ‘  step  on  me  ’  .  
𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒊.  𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧
( zoe kravitz, nonbinary, they/she, aquarius, 29 ) i spotted willow russell at the beach today. don’t you know them? they live down by the rocks and usually hang out with the skaters & families clique. from what i’ve heard, they can be destructive, but they’re also passionate. i always think of them when i hear cherry bomb - the runaways and tend to associate them with scarlet red lips,  70s  band tees, & the bitterness of black coffee  .
𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒊𝒊. 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬
𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 
willow dawn russell
𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞(𝐬) 
will & lola
𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 
february 14th
𝐚𝐠𝐞 
twenty - nine ( 29 )
𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 
five foot two inches ( 5′2″ )
𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 
nonbinary
𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐬 
they / them / theirs & she / her / hers
𝐨𝐜𝐜𝐮𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧(𝐬) 
owner of the rocks skate park
manager at victoria’s 
𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞(𝐬) 
english & spanish
𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 
pansexual & panromantic
𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦
zoe kravitz
𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒊𝒊𝒊. 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲
𝐳𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐜 
aquarius sun, scorpio rising, & cancer moon
𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 
chaotic good
𝐦𝐛𝐭𝐢 
estj-t
𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐞 
type 3w2 ( the achiever )
𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 
choleric-phlegmatic
𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 
gryffindor 
𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬
how they love others - acts of service, words of affirmation, & physical touch
how they need to be loved - quality time & physical touch
𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐨
princess carolyn ( bojack horseman ) , allison hargreeves ( umbrella academy ) , fiona gallagher ( shameless ) , steven hyde ( that 70s show ) , regina mills ( once upon a time )
𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒊𝒗. 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐢𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡𝐲
triggers  (  these  are  all  the  triggers  as  they  appear  throughout  ,  they  will  be  tagged  accordingly  )  :  abuse  tw  ,  assault  &  abuse  tw  ,  fire  tw  ,  death  tw  ,  pregnancy  tw  ,  pregnancy  tw  ,  assault  &  death  tw  ,  death  mention
𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞. 
born  in  the  supposed  “  rough  side  of  town  ”  ,  willow  was  born  into  a  somewhat  nuclear  family  ,  two  present  parents  ,  a  younger  sister  ,  and  all  the  love  that  a  child  could  ask  for  .
her  parents  kristen  and  isaiah  were  your  typical  sunhollow  couple  ,  high  school  sweethearts  ,  and  madly  in  love  .  isaiah  being  the  laid  back  stoner  type  and  kristen  being  your  stereotypical  type  a  suburban  mom  .
isaiah  was  the  more  laid  back  of  the  pair  ,  being  the  sole  owner  of  the  rocks  skate  park  ( where  he  acted  as  a  father  figure  for  anyone  who  set  foot  on  the  ramps  )  ,  and  coming  from  a  less  than  glamorous  childhood  himself  ,  believed  in  giving  your  children  space  to  grow  and  adapt  into  their  own  person  .  
their  mother  kristen  ,  on  the  other  hand  the  first  to  bring  over  fresh  baked  goods  and  homemade  casseroles  to  the  new  neighbors  ,  heavily  involved  in  the  pta  ,  and  the  most  visible  parents  at  any  school  function  geared  towards  their  kids  .
it  was  almost  stifling  how  much  the  kristen  was  involved  in  their  children’s  lives  ,  always  on  top  of  their  grades  ,  their  extracurricular  involvement  ,  essentially  any  aspect  of  their  children’s  lives  that  she  could  control  they  took  the  liberty  in  doing  so  .
though  that’s  not  to  say  that  she  wasn’t  concerned  with  how  her  children  felt  ,  more  so  that  she  was  convinced  their  way  was  the  right  way  .
the  russells  balanced  each  other  out  perfectly  ,  and  it  continued  to  be  that  way  for  as  long  as  willow  could  remember  it  .
a  rather  well  behaved  child  ,  willow  tried  their  absolute  best  to  fly  under  their  mother’s  radar  ,  which  is  extremely  difficult  when  you’re  the  eldest  daughter  of  only  two  .  so  willow  subsequently  felt  a  lot  of  the  pressure  of  her  mother  from  a  young  age  .
due  to  her  mother’s  overbearing  nature  willow  naturally  gravitated  towards  being  a  daddy’s  girl  .  spending  any  and  all  free  time  she  could  with  him  and  from  the  minute  she  was  old  enough  to  walk  he  taught  her  how  to  skate  ,  something  that  became  a  bonding  experience  for  both  of  them  ,  as  she  got  better  and  better  ,  their  bond  grew  stronger  and  stronger  .
rain  or  shine  ,  there  wasn’t  a  single  day  that  willow  didn’t  spend  with  her  father  .  everyone  in  the  rocks  joked  that  she  was  a  derivative  of  him  ,  a  spitting  image  if  anyone  had  ever  seen  one  .
and  as  willow  grew  up  things  became  no  different  .
𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐞. 
high  school  came  around  and  willow  got  two  extremely  different  notions  from  their  parents  .  their  mother  wanted  her  to  buckle  down  and  focus  on  choosing  a  sensible  career  ,  while  their  father  wanted  her  to  follow  their  passions  in  the  same  vein  that  he  did  (  his  being  a  now  infamous  band  ,  at  least  to  willow  )
willow  tried  their  best  to  maintain  a  balance  of  both  extracurriculars  that  appeased  their  mother  ,  and  free  time  spent  with  their  father  at  the  skate  park  ,  helping  him  out  with  general  upkeep  and  sharpening  their  skills  whenever  possible  .
during  one  of  daily  trips  to  the  ramps  ,  she  happened  to  notice  someone  she’d  never  seen  before  ,  call  it  love  at  first  sight  ,  or  just  teenage  hormones  ,  but  suddenly  willow  had  a  new  goal  in  mind  .
it  didn’t  take  long  before  they  also  caught  his  attention  ,  if  for  no  other  reason  than  that  they  were  measurably  a  hundred  times  better  than  he  was  on  the  ramps  ,  and  soon  enough  a  relationship  formed  .
for  once  willow  didn’t  care  much  about  their  mother’s  pedantic  tendencies  or  their  father’s  disapproval  of  the  boy  that  she’d  chose  ,  they  were  in  love  ,  and  no  one  could  tell  them  otherwise  .
ABUSE TW  this  was  until  their  boyfriend  proved  to  be  more  controlling  than  thier  mother  .  she  could  hardly  go  to  the  ramps  ,  all  her  free  time  was  spent  with  him  rather  than  her  father  ,  and  if  they  ever  dared  challenge  him  things  go  physical  .
they  were  all  apperances  in  public  ,  and  to  their  parents  ,  holding  hands  in  the  hallways  and  him  slipping  them  handwritten  love  letters  ,  but  things  only  continued  to  escalate  as  their  relationship  continue  further  .
ASSAULT & ABUSE TW  the  final  straw  was  when  he  threatened  them  with  a  knife  to  their  throat  due  to  them  choosing  to  spend  time  with  their  father  instead  of  sit  in  on  his  band  practice  without  alerting  him  .  it  was  then  they  realized  they  never  wanted  to  fear  someone  like  that  again  .
finally  gathering  the  courage  to  share  with  their  father  what  was  happening  behind  the  scenes  ,  they  successfully  managed  to  break  things  off  ,  and  although  they  had  escaped  their  situation  ,  that  relationship  had  lasting  impacts  on  how  they  viewed  love  .
they  clung  to  security  after  this  ,  constantly  attached  to  the  hip  of  their  father  ,  worried  about  what  the  return  of  their  ex  lover  might  look  like  .  thankfully  this  fear  never  came  to  fruition  ,  though  it  still  hauntingly  lingers  to  this  day  .
they  successfully  graduated  high  school  ,  and  with  heavy  influence  from  their  mother  enrolled  in  sunhollow  for  a  degree  in  journalism  .  and  the  minute  they  stepped  foot  on  the  sunhollow  campus  and  swore  not  to  fall  in  love  ,  that’s  exactly  what  they  did  .
𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐡. 
he  was  nothing  like  her  last  boyfriend  all  sweet  words  and  gentle  hands  that  knew  exactly  the  spots  to  kiss  to  make  her  feel  whole  again  .
the  whiplash  that  came  from  going  to  a  super  toxic  relationship  to  one  where  he  was  extremely  loving  and  gentle  was  something  that  willow  had  to  slowly  become  accustomed  to  .
she  spent  her  days  with  him  in  the  library  ,  hushed  giggles  and  hand  holding  ,  and  her  nights  commuting  back  to  the  rocks  to  help  out  her  family  with  her  job  that  she  got  at  victoria’s  .
though  journalism  wasn’t  exactly  her  main  passion  ,  there  were  plenty  of  opportunities  to  get  involved  with  things  that  were  .  enter  the  band  her  and  her  boyfriend
they  were  nothing  to  write  home  about  ,  they  were  good  in  a  local  dive  bars  ,  but  they  definitely  weren’t  going  to  be  selling  out  stadiums  any  time  soon  ,  and  honestly  they  preferred  it  that  way  .
this  was  her  college  experience  ,  playing  shows  at  victoria’s  ,  splitting  time  between  her  boyfriend  and  her  family  ,  and  working  her  way  towards  completing  her  bachelor’s  degree  .
she  even  saved  up  enough  money  with  her  boyfriend  to  afford  a  moderately  sized  condo  in  the  rocks  close  to  her  childhood  home  .  this  condo  would  also  become  the  place  where  he  ended  up  proposing  the  idea  of  getting  eloped  .  he  was  convinced  they  didn’t  need  a  ceremony  only  each  other  .
the  day  she  walked  the  stage  with  her  husband  was  one  of  the  proudest  moments  of  her  life  ,  but  soon  enough  it  would  devolve  into  the  worst  .
FIRE TW  clamors  of  a  house  fire  in  the  rocks  ,  prompting  an  early  departure  from  both  willow  and  her  husband  who  drove  home  to  see  willow’s  childhood  home  in  flames  .
DEATH TW  by  the  time  that  help  had  arrived  ,  it  was  too  late  ,  both  her  parents  had  been  consumed  by  the  flames  ,  childhood  memories  had  been  destroyed  ,  and  willow  yet  again  felt  broken  .
the  only  family  that  remained  was  her  ,  her  sister  ,  and  her  husband  .  and  willow  took  every  opportunity  to  step  up  to  the  plate  and  provide  her  sister  whatever  she  could  within  her  means  .
willow  decided  to  put  her  journalism  degree  to  work  to  honor  her  parents  and  wrote  for  the  local  newspaper  ,  bringing  light  to  social  issues  at  the  rocks  ,  and  local  news  going  on  within  the  community  from  any  side  of  town  .  but  she  also  had  the  job  of  maintaining  the  skate  park  her  father  left  for  her  ,  and  part  -  time  shifts  at  victoria’s  ,  a  job  that  gave  her  some  semblance  of  normalcy  .
four  years  seemed  to  pass  willow  by  without  seemingly  anything  interesting  happening  ,  life  seemed  to  finally  calm  down  .
PREGNANCY TW  but  soon  enough  after  weeks  of  getting  sick  after  rehearsal ( her  college  bad  reuniting  to  play  victoria’s  on  sunday  nights )  ,  and  waking  up  nauseated  ,  willow  realized  she  might  have  idea  of  what  was  going  on  .  three  pregnancy  tests  later  she  was  staring  down  at  a  pink  plus  sign  with  tears  in  her  eyes  . 
they  were  more  than  happy  to  finally  settle  down  and  seriously  consider  having  a  family  ,  something  that  willow  had  always  craved  .
and  the  minute  that  life  got  better  again  it  go  exponentially  worse  .
PREGNANCY TW  about  a  month  before  her  twenty  -  fifth  birthday  ,  willow  gave  birth  to  twin  girls  which  she  named  iris  and  imani  ,  and  the  second  time  she  ever  held  them  in  her  arms  she  received  life  altering  news  .
ASSAULT & DEATH TW  while  on  his  way  to  the  hospital  ,  her  husband  was  mugged  ,  an  assault  which  ultimately  lead  to  his  death  .
once  again  willow  was  left  to  pick  up  the  pieces  of  losing  someone  important  to  her  ,  and  as  it  stood  she  had  four  people  who  needed  her  ,  the  most  important  two  being  the  infants  bundled  in  her  arms  in  that  moment  .
𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.
that  was  four  years  ago  now  and  iris  and  imani  have  been  their  main  priority  ever  since  .
DEATH MENTION  since  the  passing  of  her  husband  ,  she  realized  that  couldn’t  keep  living  her  life  for  other  people  ,  and  so  she  quit  her  job  at  the  paper  ,  picked  up  more  shifts  at  victoria’s (  even  worked  her  way  up  to  being  a  manager  )  ,  and  took  over  her  dad’s  place  at  the  skate  park  .
similar  to  her  dad  ,  anyone  who  steps  foot  on  the  ramps  is  by  proxy  her  child  ,  and  that’s  no  joke  ,  she  will  never  forget  a  face  and  she  will  get  to  know  everything  about  you  ,  she  believes  in  taking  care  of  the  people  who  keep  her  dad’s  legacy  alive  .
the  best  way  that  i  can  describe  her  personality  is  abrasive  ,  extremely  rough  around  the  edges  ,  and  she  is  not  one  to  let  people  in  easily  anymore  .  unless  of  course  she  considers  you  family  ,  then  she  is  by  your  side  until  the  end  of  time  .
𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒗. 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐩𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭
𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬
𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐫 
navy blue 
𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 
thunderstorms are her favorite for some reason she finds an odd comfort in them
𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐚𝐲 
she tends to work a lot of nights so her favorite time of day is dusk, the moon is just coming up, and her day feels like it’s just getting started
𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐥(𝐬) 
foxes
𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐣𝐢𝐬
😈😎🤔😘😴🥵😜💋
𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲
𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 
kristen russell ; deceased
𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 
isaiah russell ; deceased
𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬)
wanted connection ; sister
𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐧
iris russell ( 4 years old )
aquarius sun, libra rising, & aquarius moon
imani russell ( 4 years old )
aquarius sun, libra rising, & aquarius moon
𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞
𝐞𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 
degree  in  journalism  from  sunhollow  university
𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐬 
n/a
𝐡𝐨𝐛𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐬 
writing  ,  skateboarding  ,  surfing  ,  yoga  ,  cooking  ,  singing  ,  running  ,  photography  ,  traveling  ,  and  playing  bass  .
𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 
small  two  bedroom  home  that  is  just  big  enough  for  all  of  their  and  their  daughter’s  belongings  .
𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐬 
between  maintaining  the  skatepark  during  the  day  ,  working  nights  at  victoria’s  ,  and  raising  twin  girls  ,  willow  doesn’t  see  a  lot  of  sleep  but  she  takes  what  she  can  get  .
𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐬
willow  survives  a  lot  on  take  -  out  and  vending  machine  snacks  ,  but  the  days  she  does  have  she  makes  sure  to  cook  recipes  handed  down  to  her  from  her  mother  .
𝐚𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬
70s  band  tee  shirts  and  high  waisted  denim  ,  burnt  orange  and  olive  green  paisley  ,  psychedelic  rock,  ginger  and  lime,  loves  post  -  apocalyptic  sci-fi  and  films  ,  scarlet  red  painted  lips ,  insatiable  wanderlust,  muddy  doc-martins  and  goofy  thrift-store  sweaters  ,  feels  soothed  by  the  sound  of  thunder  ,  fluorescent  drug  store  signs  reflected  in  parking  lot  puddles  ,  angsty  conversations  on  rooftops  .
𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒗𝒊.  𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬
uhhhh  so  i  have  wasted  all  my  brain  power  on  this  so  i  have  no  suggestions  i  can  come  up  with  at  the  moment  !  but  listen  feel  free  to  message  me  so  we  can  brain  storm  some  plot  ideas  i  promise  i  will  scream  and  cry  over  !
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