#also this is maybe the first fandom week ive done something every day for

[repmet]

@rwrbmovie & @rwrbsource’s rwrbweek: Day 7 | Location/Set

Hospital forced proximity broom closet

[clavis-baby]

The (possible) Downfall of Obey Me

5-16-21 (when writing this the event toys out)

(Tbh this post is just be trying to be naïve towards Solomare and at ever aspectthat I mention you have every single right to be upset and mad)

Okay so it’s no secret that Obey me is making bank and is very very obviously trying to make us money on the game with even trying to make us spend money with original stuff that was free to now secretly changing some mechanics behind our back

Here’s a post by @thalfox https://thalfox.tumblr.com/post/653994972840919040/i-just-noticed-a-little-bit-ago-that-the-barbatos that dose a really good job at explaining everything that has changed

(also this isn’t a hate thing fox has actually done a great work explaining everything to good detail of what has changed)

With all the changes I don’t think that it’s shocking to say that players are leavening the fandom because of many reasons to the games getting stupidly harder to even the game development

This is just a heads up this in no way is a post saying “hey this is why you shouldn’t feel this way” I kinda just wanted to see from a business standpoint and be naïve of what’s happening you have every reason to be mad at Solomare because even me I’ve been playing sense week 2 of game released and I’m only on lesson 42 every counter argument that I’m going to make I have complained about at some point

Arguments

(P.s grammar is really bad it’s sort of turned into more of a rant I wrote this at 5 am without any sleep so sorry)

1. Obey me is marketed as a free to play game

First there are many reasons people are mad this main thing that I hear about is from a lot of people is that is a “free game” which lets be honest is ridiculously hard

But still it is still essentially a “free to play game” I personally feel like the main prolog is lessons 1-20 to introduce all the characters to understand and getting the just on how to play the game

Okay and now here’s where I sort of stand with obey me, the gatcha rates are kinda ridiculously lucky when you play for the first week you luck is so amazing and is in my experience with gatchas the best luck I have ever seen for games so it’s not really hard collecting the cards

Now are they the best absolutely no, this I feel like is where you might have to spend money unless they up the skills on the Nightmare A

But what Obey me is technically trying to do is obviously making you pay by releasing your favorite demon card every 2 week which…aren’t essential they are really just hoping that you love your main demon enough to pay

With the high increase on the gatcha rate there really isn’t a pity unless you count the card pieces (but I’m not going to count that because you are more likely to roll your UR before completing the pieces)

Now after lesson 20 once the huge break I feel like Obey me almost expecting the players to keep logging in any doing jobs and some players did do that and boy did it pay off

But those players have not needed to spend a single dollar and are all caught up

Now for everyone else who didn’t the game was so difficult it’s unimaginable and because for that a whole lot of players left the game and personally I don’t blame them because of how much impact the next lessons were

Now sort of like Mystic Messenger you really just have to grind you ass off log in everyday and do JOBS :D and grind but as hard and long as it is you are still able to be a f2p but where obey me fails is that when grinding Mystic Messenger grinding was a lot more fun for me it took about a whole year to just get 550 hourglasses even when I purchased and same with Genshin Inpact it takes a while but with obey me there isn’t really anything else to do once you get to a certain point which I think obey me really lacks and could be part of a reason why people left. Grinding just is not fun (now I do think that on a phone there is so much you can do with a app game but I feel like there could be a bit more they could do)

Personally I’m just going to come out and say it don’t spend your money for one UR card for your favorite demon it’s really not worth it now im one of those Mammon stans but if I ever wanted a specific card for instance the Mammon bunny card when it first came out I wanted it so badly and didn’t get it but I also knew there would eventually be a revival so I saved and did not spend any DV(demon vouchers) until the revival

The events

Some people complain about getting the cards in the events onestly for me this one kinda makes a bit of sense I noticed the first change when the Vampire even came out and how it wasn’t as easy to get the second card but if you think of it it makes sence why

When the first event came out (Santa event) you only had to collect about 30,000 gingerbread compared to the 100,000 in event today but when the first event came out no one was at high enough levels for the AP required and you would every day when times rest to gain gingerbread as well as there was only one part to the story so when people kept leveling up their AP Obey Me had to higher the bar so it wouldn’t be so easy to get all these cards and have a actual reward system but eventually they also added another story lesson starting at the Ruri Chan event

Second thing about the events is that one there started just getting plain out boring.

When lesson 20 finished and we were all waiting for season 2 I was still loving in everyday and logging in at 12 and 8 for the free 30 AP because I didn’t know what else to and would participate in the event but eventually what I think that all otome games that have constant events like Ikemen Vampire and Ikemen Revolution they just start getting repetitive and getting real boring so I stoped playing until there was something more interesting

The last thing that some people complain about the events is that you can’t keep up with the story and the events now I can’t find it but I believe that @0beyme said something about the events a long time ago about how you have to pick between the event and moving through the main story which I kinda think isn’t really the games fault and more just a discussion on maybe missing a event

Add ons

Okay so they did this from day 1 you spend a certain amount of Devil point that you guaranteed don’t have and get out a card

Now this is just spelling out a disaster

Yeah so for the first Charge Mission is when you log in which everyone had but essentially what they want you to do is spend $100 on a game that you just logged into and never experienced or played I don’t really understand what they were even thinking with that but it must’ve worked for them to keep doing them

The second time they did it was when the break was over and season 2 came out and they celebrated by doing another charge mission which was the Lucifer and Simon card which would cost again $100 again I really don’t understand what they were thinking

And now this is I believe the fourth time they have done this for the 1.5 anniversary where they know that Mammon is obviously a favorite for many Obey Me players and where smart to put it on the really stupid charge mission but the difference is, is that instead of it costing $100 it would cost almost $200(same with Levi’s) for one thing I don’t understand

But one thing that you do have to remember is is that this isn’t apart of the main gameplay it really just is a mini game if you would even call it that of dress up and optimization so still I guess would be just a add on that has no effect on the actual story and game so you could I guess still call it a f2p game with really really stupidly high priced add ons

VIP

Umm so I am the first one to call myself out I have bought the VIP package first when season 2 happened and I knew how much I loved the game so personally it was worth it to me to support the developers and gain something out of it

Now I haven’t really seen much complaints on the VIP because people more use it as a “hey the game is impossible with out VIP” but the people who say this ive noticed never bought it

For $9.99 each month it is 100%

IT IS NOT WORTH IT!!! Out of everything you get which honestly isn’t much you get some extra free space in jobs and really that’s it and if you choose to use all your job slots for the highest paying you get around 30,500 about a 10,000 difference not really worth it in my opinion

With VIP you also get other things like higher chance of gifts from Jobs which you will not notice one bit, and +20 AP (which if you play the events is sort of useful) as well as extra packages exclusive to VIPs so after paying $9.99 per month you also get more things to buy and that’s about it for VIP now if you really want to get more grim just use your AP and spend it of normal lessons you will get more AP that way

The Story and Kids

This could be all me just complaining and a theory by I wanted to include it anyway

Obviously many people are not even caught up or even playing but as more lessons went on the less interesting the story became to me I don’t know if it’s a me thing but season one was absolutely amazing the once season two came out it was good but not anywhere as good and one

One reason why I think that it to me became almost bland is the amount of kids that is on the app and how sensitive people were if anything bad happens

It’s no secret that the Japanese versions a lot more non-kid friendly for hell’s sake the characters don’t even swear as well as all the colors I feel like to a American audience bright colors is usually marketed towards kids but in other countriesI think many understand that that is not always the case for instance a lot of people will thing in America that anime is all for kids but I mean look at Attack on Titan or Tokyo Ghoul you would not let kids watch that of literal people getting brutally murdered you just don’t see things like that in the West where something looking kid friendly could also be very adult like

Also wtf dose this in the App Store say +12 with Ikemen Vampire and a lot of other games if you have a game rated +17 then there will be a actual pop up that says something along the lines of how “thier could be violence acts and sexual act are you sure you want to instal”

Now the story I’ve seen people point this out but there isn’t really much character development for instance Beel he dose not have a actual personality his personality (fight me on this one) all you really know about him is that he likes food and his family now I could be wrong cuz I’m on lesson 42 but still not much and this is kinda with all the characters except the special ones where the devs really favor and love for story

Some one mentioned how the developers hold back a lot which I agree with 100% they said how when there is character development they all the sudden pull back and never will almost talk about it again like ???? So there’s this constant bland story

——————-

Honestly if you liked this I might do more cuz as much as this post made me especially at the end I kinda liked ranting so...yeah there is also many other things that I want to rant about but I’m tired soooo

feel free to comment your opinions btw

Bye ima go sleep now

[youngbeanpole]

A message from BP’s mail-lady

hoo boy here we go. this is gonna be a long post.

hi! im lemon, and i started this blog on april 2nd 2012. and today, april 22nd 2021, im posting beanpole’s last message here. its been one hell of a ride.

how it all started i was 15, spending time on tumblr, when i suddenly started seeing people posting about this movie that was about to be released soon, called the lorax. now, im not american, so i had never really heard of dr seuss, but people were so enthusiastic! so i watched a shitty cam-rip of the movie and joined the fandom. 

and then the askblogs started, the first one i came across being swag, of course. i had run askblogs for other fandoms before, so i wanted to join in on the fun. but regular once-ler was already taken... and green suit once-lers, and audrey and ted too... so i had to come up with something original. 

the movie started with the once-ler leaving home and his family showing just how awful they were, and i started thinking, ‘man, his childhood mustve sucked..’ ‘haha what if i made a blog about once-ler when he was my age?’ 

an impulse decision that somehow gained me 100 followers in a week. somehow relatable tumblr teen once-ler was relatable to 2012 tumblr. who couldve known? 

i get kinda emotional looking back at it, honestly. people were so fun and creative. id stay up late to keep talking to people (bc timezones are hell). and i had a lot of fun just pretending to be a flawed boy, one who seemed nice but could be rather snarky, who would lie and break promises at the drop of a hat, but only because he didnt know any better, not out of malice. and i couldnt have done it without you all. i never wouldve known that he hates tomatoes, or likes celine dion, or wears the same thneed every dang day just because that happened to be his icon. 

was it silly to get obsessed with a childrens movie? maybe. but i had a great time.  (im also happy to see there are still people in the fandom that are carrying on the legacy... you guys rock)

truffula flu i think most people that remember bp remember him from truffula flu’s camp entre, over at youngbeansprout... a blog ive sadly lost the password to. im a big baby so i never thought id enjoy writing about something as scary as zombies, but i saw my friends doing it so i went in blind, without any idea on a backstory for the au or whatever.  ....which is probably why he wasnt always all that prominent in the story, haha. well, that, and timezones. 

it was probably an even wilder time than running this blog was, because there was actual plot. and people would liveblog it. and make fanart. and cosplay??? someone out there? cosplayed my oc to a convention? its one of those things that make you go. huh. i made something cool. probably never gonna reach that high ever again, but it sure is a fond memory. i still have a folder on my computer with all the fanart and it still brings a smile to my face.

also... i never did get to finish zombie au’s story, but i did plan how it would end. so if youve managed to read this far, congratulations! youve hit the hidden deep lore.

---

so the thing with truffula flu was that entre made the trees fucked up, right? and those spores would turn ppl into zombies. and of course you could become a zombie from being bitten, but it also traveled through the air...

everyone in camp entre (who wasnt immune or already infected) wore a gasmask, a bandana, something to cover their mouth. bp, who wandered into the apocalypse by accident, did not. he didnt even know. 

so little by little, the spores gathered in his lungs, until he realized. oh no. im getting sick. oh no. oh no oh no oh no. he messed around audrey’s equipment to confirm he was infected, and he got scared. he was a scared kid and he was going to die.

except. ted had handed him a cure for safe-keeping. a cure bp had sworn to protect with his life. but it could save him, right? in a moment of cowardice, he uses it on himself... only to find out there never was a cure.  (now heres the part where my memory gets fuzzy but) the ‘’’cure’’’ was given to ted, who was already slightly rotting, meant as a mercy kill. the people who gave him the cure assumed he would use it on himself.

except ted was a good kid, who wanted to use the cure to help others. and beanpole? his lies and broken promises came back to bite him in the ass, and he died sudden and alone. the end. :)

ANYWAY

the end of an era ive wanted to wrap this blog up for several years now but i never knew how. younger me wanted to give him a happy ending, which back then i thought was getting him a girlfriend. 

but as i got older, i realized... not everything can be fixed with a relationship. he’d have to learn to overcome his flaws by himself, learn his lesson about honesty and sincerity and the dangers of greed. and then, maybe he’ll have a happy ending.

so as he rides into the sunset on this day, imagine. maybe he’ll end up cutting down a forest and regretting it the rest of his life. maybe he’ll become a rock-star. an inventor. a teacher. a gentleman. a cannibal? okay, maybe not that one or maybe he’ll continue traveling forever, singing songs about boredom.

who knows? there’s infinite possibilites out there.

--

and with that, im logging off too. if you ever need me, ill be over on twitter as his deoncelerized self, bean. 

<3

[prettyboy-parker]

favorite fics of 2020 (and a goodbye)

hi all!

first, i wanted to say this is inspired by one of my closest friends my bitch @honeybunstarker . thank u for that 

secondly, i wanted to say a final goodbye. i know that i nearly left a few months ago, but i was still on the fence about writing for marvel then. now, ive lost all interest. thank you all for fueling my love for writing, and making these past two (??? i actually don’t know) years full of excitement and encouragement! from the ups (the blocklist, secret santa) to the downs (my favorite blogs and friends deactivating without a word), ive had the greatest time in this fandom. 

in case you were worried, i am NOT deactivating. my fics will be available for you to read whenever you want.

but, i will not be writing for marvel anymore, nor will i be posting on this blog.

now that the sad part is done, i didn't want to leave you guys without anything to entertain yourselves with. so, here are my favorite fics, including some non-marvel, from this year! 

(all descriptions are from the work itself)

my top fic from this year, which is also one of my favorite fics of all time, is a dog named sunshine.

“Bucky Barnes has issues. Mental health issues, and a whole lot of them, to be precise. Bucky is fucked up, and he knows that. His apartment looks like a dumping ground on most days, he can’t sleep through the night, sometimes he doesn’t shower for six days and doesn’t leave the house except to see his therapist once a week. Mostly, Bucky has no idea how the whole “talking about your problems” thing is supposed to help him, but sometimes his therapist has some really great ideas. Like getting a dog. Which is how Bucky meets Steve. Steve has blond hair and shoulders as broad as Bucky’s future if he wouldn’t suffer from depression and multiple mental disorders, and a waist as small as Bucky’s self-esteem. Steve also has a yellowish dog with floppy ears called Sunshine. And sunshine makes its way into Bucky’s life with a bounce in its step.”

a modern stucky fic which portrays depression in the best way i have seen in a fic so far. unfortunately, it has been orphaned before being finished :(

starker:

hey baby, slip between my beta-pleats and get to know my alpha-helix? By @starkerforlife6969​ and @darker-soft-starker​

“Even though Tony can't tell the difference between Manolo Blahnik and Jimmy Choo, Peter really has no other choice.

His heat is around the corner, so even though he loathes the party-going, booze drinking, smug playboy know-it-all that is Tony Stark-

He'll just have to do.”

if you asked me what my favorite starker fic of all time is, i’d tell you it’s this one

raising hybrid puppies by jaypendragon

“A non-powered Tony/Peter coffee shop AU with billionaire Tony and working-class, teenage Peter. Also, Toomes has a bakery and somehow Last Week Tonight is a genuine plot point.”

underage, slowburn, happy ending 

even though it’s one of the most notorious fics for the ship, i never read it until the summer. 

waiting for marriage by tuesday 

“In which Tony gets married and kidnapped in that order.

—

Tony Stark went to Vegas to cause a scandal.”

just super fun!

push you out (pull you back in) by @lovelystarker​

“So basically, Peter's kind of fucked. And not in the way that he wants to be-preferably by his mother's hot new boyfriend who has beautiful brown eyes and a disposition that's more than put-together. It wouldn't be so hard to ignore the crush, really it wouldn't, but Mr. Stark has practically moved in, so Peter can't avoid him if he wants to, and unlike his mom's past boyfriends, this one actually likes to spend time with him. So yeah, Peter's kind of fucked.”

just,,, wow. important to note that it is unfinished.

stucky:

you go to my head by alby_mangroves and brideofquiet

“Why would you do that for a man you don’t know?” Bucky asks.

Steve raises one slow eyebrow at him, then the other, till his expression turns from skepticism to disbelief. His forefinger and thumb reach into his shirt’s front pocket and draw out a wrinkled dollar bill.

Steve looks him in the eye when he says, very patiently, “For money, Bucky.”

40′s stucky is my favorite stucky

that boy is a problem by 2best friends

“In which a twinky little goth punk named Bucky puts a leash around Steve's dick and he's really into it.

(The leash is a metaphor. For now.)”

just porn

all the angels and the saints by speranza 

“In which Steve Rogers loses God and finds God and loses God, and also: Bucky.”

if it makes you cry, it’s probably good!

sugar sweet by colorcoated 

“College Student Bucky finds himself immediately attracted to Steve. He knows that Steve's a bit older than him, and that Steve himself is put off by the age difference. . . But that doesn't stop Bucky from wanting to climb him like a tree.”

the only slowburn i have tolerated 

my bucky by cleo4u2 and xantissa 

“Bucky finds a feral Alpha in the woods. Rather, the Alpha finds him. Bucky is sure it’s the end of his life as an independant Omega. It turns out to be the beginning of the strangest romance Bucky’s ever known.”

stony:

(i want you to see) the darkest side of me by ann2who

“In Monte Carlo, Steve meets the wealthy widower Anthony Stark. It’s love at first sight—at least for Steve—and he can’t believe his luck when Tony asks him to live at Stark Mansion, his large estate in Malibu. Never in his life had Steve thought something like this was possible… never had he been this happy. However, soon Steve realizes that Tony is still deeply troubled by the death of his first wife and haunted by the many ghosts she left behind. The longer Steve lives in her shadow, the more he understands that… He can never be what Tony’s wife had once been for him. And Tony might never truly love him.”

total mindfuck.

ironstrange:

let it be by lucifersfavoritechild

“While dealing with his son's car accident and a rapidly-dissolving marriage, Tony is drawn to Peter's surgeon, Dr. Stephen Strange.”

where severus snape is hot, not a stalker, and somehow gets the girl by utopiste

“Or: Peter Parker is sick and wants to cut his Neuroscience class. Tony just wants to help (and maybe date his son's hot teacher). Stephen Strange just wants to give his lecture in peace.”

miscellaneous:

geraskier: who needs plans anyways by NTK

“All witchers are alphas or betas by nature, since no omega has ever survived the Trial of the Grasses. Gerald has never had any problems with satisfying his needs on the occasional rut, for the whores from Poviss to Nilfgard were eager to be of service to a sturdy hunk like him. On the other hand, a certain omega/ bard/ occasional witcher tagalong has always made certain to acquire enough suppressants from local healers before setting out on a new adventure. That is, until the travels with his favourite White Wolf led the unlike pair into uncharted territory for longer than expected… life ensues”

philtriss: bound by sapphiresmoke

“Leashing involves a pupil being bound to their master in body, mind, and magic,” Philippa explained, folding her hands on the desk in front of her. “It is not something to undertake lightly, but if you accept, I will be able to share my magic with you, and instruct you in ways that would be otherwise be impossible if I were to only rely on verbal communication. It is intimate, it is at times invasive, but if you consent to this, Triss, it will make you vastlymore powerful, and from the look in your eyes, that seems to be exactly what you are looking for.”

vandermatthews: one more night like this would put me six feet under by jukeboxgraduate

“To be alongside the same person week after week, to share honesty and trust with someone day after day, is a rare treasure in a life that hinges on dishonesty. Hosea holds it close to his heart.”

din/cobb: every wave is a tidal if you hang around by wolfhalls 

“Din comes to Mos Pelgo, and finds a lot more than he was looking for.”

and finally, rough day by @no-droids​, because we all need to be a little indulgent sometimes.

[ficsandcatsandficsandcats]

I know this won't all fit in one ask so here goes! Haha! Okay so plus size reader x jaskier. With some jealous jaskier. And he's jealous because reader and geralt are pretty good friends, but thats not why he's jealous, he's jealous because he keeps walking in on them at the worst times and they keep finding themselves in like really odd situations that can be read as sexual when they are NOT EVEN CLOSE TO THAT AT ALL and jaskier just keeps walking in at THEE worst time. Reader has been in 1/?

Love with jaskier for years, they’re close, she’s shy so now he’s like how come Geralt gets to have all this closeness & not me. So he kind of pulls away & maybe starts mumbling to himself when they’re all together & so finally she asks him whats wrong & he’s like very short with her & meaner than he means to be about her & geralt. & she is accidentally like “i’m not in love with him. fucks sake Jaskier ive been in love YOU for years!” & storms off & then reconciliation? THANK YOU!

Fandom: The WitcherPairing: Jaskier x ReaderWord Count: 1,470Rating: TTaglist: @heroics-and-heartbreak @whatevermonkey @mynamesoundslikesherlock @magic-multicolored-miracle @writingstudent @mlleecrivaine @coffee-and-stories @ultracolorfulnerdcollection @astouract @your-not-invisible-to-me @kemmastan a/n: I hope you enjoy it! Thank you for the prompt!

One of the greatest mysteries in Jaskier’s many-storied life was how Geralt consistently surrounded himself with gorgeous women.

Despite how frustrating and downright scary he found her, Jaskier would never deny Yennefer’s beauty. From the stories he’d heard Renfri was also lovely, as was the sorceress Triss Merigold. The warriors who had accompanied them up the mountain were gorgeous with their long necks and strong physiques. Yet all of them had eyes for Geralt and Geralt alone. This continued when it came to you. Geralt had introduced you to Jaskier as a long-time friend but Jaskier knew better. Geralt would be a fool to resist a woman of your charms and you were clearly smitten with him. Jaskier was ecstatic when you joined them on their travels but as his feelings for you deepened, so did his agony.

He would write songs about your beauty only to throw them away when he found you snuggled up on Geralt’s lap before the fire. One time he had walked in on you bent over a table, Geralt right behind you, and you’d tried to say that it ‘wasn’t what it looked like’ and Geralt was ‘just massaging a pulled muscle’ but Jaskier was the first to know those mistakes were all nonsense. He’d “massaged” plenty of “pulled muscles” in his day, thank you very much. There was one night where he thought, perhaps, he had a chance. It was bitterly cold and you’d suggested that you and him share a bedroll, cuddling together for warmth. He’d wrapped you up tight and he could’ve sworn he felt your heart skip a beat as he surreptitiously planted a kiss on your head. But when he woke up, Geralt had joined and you were draped across him. That was when he knew there was no point in trying anymore.

Sure, there were other things along the way that should have made this less devastating. You always gave Geralt long, tight hugs and with Jaskier you were brief and always seemed a bit reluctant or uncertain about touching. You’d casually make bawdy jokes with Geralt but whenever Jaskier made one you blushed or looked askance. Yes, it was clear what was going on here, it didn’t take a genius to see, but it still hurt Jaskier deeply and that hurt turned into outward dickishness.

You noticed that Jaskier grew colder. He didn’t sing songs to you anymore, not even to get your opinion as he wrote songs about the new muse he had, some woman whose beauty was as ample as her body and just as tempting. You envied this woman more than you could bear but you tried to appease yourself with his friendship. True, you were closer with Geralt, having met him long ago, but the real impediment between a close friendship with Jaskier was the feelings you held for him. You kept them tucked away in secret as you watched Jaskier flirt with everyone.

The mumbling was new, though. The coldness and the mumbling started one morning after you had gone to bed with him. Tragically not in a euphemistic way but genuinely curled up for warmth, nestled in his arms. You’d woken in the middle of the night with your teeth chattering, Jaskier even colder than you though fast asleep, and you had woken Geralt to come help you warm him and by the three of you combined you were able to provide enough warmth to sleep through the night. Sleeping next to Geralt was something you’d done a thousand times, you thought nothing of it. But the next morning Jaskier had begun to act strange. He hardly talked and he looked at you even less. When Geralt passed you a piece of bread you thought you heard Jaskier mumble something about ‘getting a piece’ but when you asked him he looked at you in confusion and you moved on. For a week now he’d been making little side comments, though, and you were just about at your limit. You hoped that staying at an inn may help his mood, that perhaps the hard travel was just weighing on him, and he did seem to perk up a bit at getting a warm meal but once Geralt excused himself to leave the mumbling started again.

“What are you doing?” you asked. Jaskier looked up and tried to give you an innocent expression but you were unimpressed.

“What are you talking about?” he countered.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. Every time Geralt talks to me you mutter something to yourself,” you insisted.

“Maybe I have to talk to myself because the only one you ever talk to is Geralt,” Jaskier grumbled.

“That’s just not true,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Right, sorry, my mistake,” Jaskier said, voice hard and sarcastic, “You don’t just talk to him. You also sleep on him and gods know what else when I’m not there. Hell, probably when I’m there too, not like you’d give a damn.”

Your eyes pricked with hot, angry tears and you rose from the table.

“Geralt is my friend. Unlike you. No friend would be so… mean,” you cried.

“I thought you liked mean guys after all, there’s Geralt and you can’t keep your hands off of him,” Jaskier snapped.

“Where the hell is this coming from? I’m not in love with Geralt. I haven’t been in love with anyone but you since we met but you’re so damned pigheaded and stuck in the clouds with your muse that you can’t see anything. Gods, Jaskier, I’ve always defended you when people said you were just some dumb bard but you’re not only daft, you’re cruel,” your voice cracked at the end of your words and you ran from the table towards the stables as swiftly as you could. Jaskier’s head spun as he took in everything that had just happened. He’d never intended to be so harsh, even if you were in love with Geralt it would give him no right to judge or hate you for it. But then you’d said that you loved him? Could such a miracle be true? And even if it was, had be cocked it all up beyond reason now?

Jaskier found you in the stables petting Roach and was grateful not to find you pouring your heart out to Geralt who would likely have murdered him on the spot for making his friend cry, as would be his right. When you saw him you glowered and turned your face back to the horse. Roach looked over at Jaskier and he would’ve sworn he saw disdain in her large, brown eyes.

“Y/N I’ve been an ass,” Jaskier said.

“Yes, you have,” you replied without turning around.

“Everything you said was right. I was mean and cruel and you didn’t deserve any of that,” he continued.

“Too right,” you said with a sniff, wiping your nose with the back of your hand.

“And I hope what I say now doesn’t make it worse,” he said. He saw you stiffen and then turn to face him. Your wet, red-rimmed eyes wrenched his heart. He’d fantasized about how he may confess his love to you countless times and in none of them had he made you cry. Not like this.

“I love you. I’m in love with you. I have been for years and I never told you because… not just because you seemed to close to Geralt – and I know! I know you’re friends!” he said quickly as you frowned and opened your mouth to protest, “But there was such a clear different between how you treated us. You didn’t joke with me as you did him and you seemed reluctant or uncomfortable touching me and I assumed it was because you… well that you didn’t like me. Much less love.”

Realization dawned on your face, as well as a little regret.

“Oh Jaskier… Of course I like you. That’s why I was so distant. I assumed you’d never feel for me the way I did for you and I think I was just trying to keep a safe distance to try and protect my heart. Which means I am also sort of stupid because obviously that ship had sailed,” you said with a rueful laugh.

“You’re not stupid,” Jaskier insisted, moving closer to you and daring to try and take your hand, encouraged when you let him, “Emotions are hard. Well, they’re not, but we make them hard. We humans are a ghastly species.”

“We are,” you agreed, nodding and moving a little closer.

“So,” Jaskier said, pale blue eyes gazing down into yours as you both crept ever so slowly closer, drawn like two magnets that have been held apart for too long, “What happens now?”

You answered him with a kiss.

[cake-writes]

Six (1/6)

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Chapter Warnings: Angst, Violence, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (Bucky), Eating Disorder (Reader), Slow Burn, 18+

Summary: Bucky knew that there were more important things for him to worry about. Of course he did. He still had to work through the horrors of his past, never mind his present, which was the exact reason why he honed right in on your petty bullshit. You distracted him from the things he didn’t want to think about. You also drove him up a fucking wall.

Written for @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan​‘s Multi-Fandom Followers Challenge - ‘enemies to lovers’ trope.

James Buchanan Barnes couldn’t stand you. Or your generation.

‘Millennials’ they were called, ranging anywhere from 25 to 40, give or take a couple years. Boy, were they wasteful, entitled, and disrespectful – spoiled rotten by the children of his generation. Where all of their parenting had gone wrong, he wasn’t sure, but it explained a hell of a lot about the world’s current state of affairs.

He knew that Steve didn’t like any of it either, but Steve wasn’t vocal about it; not that Bucky was vocal, of course, because he wasn’t.

Except for when you were involved.

The shitty attitude, he could handle. You griped constantly, so much that it grated on his last nerve after every mission. ‘Broke a nail’ this and ‘bled all over my new shirt’ that. No matter how good you were in the field, he loathed having to deal with you longer than necessary. You whined like a spoiled brat and it was exhausting.

He could also deal with the disrespect. Because your face was buried in your phone 24/7, you’d stumbled into him more than once in the hallway without offering so much as an apology – never mind the time that you very nearly got him shot because you forgot to put the stupid device on silent while the two of you were doing covert ops, or all the other times you interrupted him while he was talking to send off a text. Sometimes he thought you did it on purpose just to piss him off, but he let it slide.

What Bucky couldn’t stand was the wastefulness. Growing up during the Great Depression had taught him not let a single thing go to waste. In fact, he’d say it was downright shameful to do so. His outdated mentality on the subject was just as hard to grow out of as it was for him not to comment on it, and needless to say, he commented. A lot.

Shortly after Bucky moved into the compound, he went to the kitchen for some orange juice one morning and found you throwing away some wilted but perfectly edible produce. An argument ensued. He used up the remnants for breakfast, while you stormed out of the room.

That particular incident was what set the tone for your tumultuous relationship, if you could even call it that. You’d only met a week or two prior, and neither of you left a good impression on the other. He was still keyed up from his return to civilization. You were a victim of circumstance. In retrospect, he knew he shouldn’t have picked the fight, but he didn’t regret it in the least because your bad habits just continued on from there.

One afternoon, he found you stuffing your face with candy instead of eating the tub of yogurt you’d bought a month ago. Bucky knew it was about to go off because it sat there every day at eye level, unopened, with your name written on it in curly black marker, taunting him whenever he opened the fridge. As the expiration date neared, he told you more than once that he’d eat it if you weren’t going to. He’d quickly noticed what a picky eater you were – even though no one from his generation was picky like that – and in some way, he might have been trying to be nice.

More than that, though, it was his attempt at controlling the situation and with it, your wasteful behaviour. You saw right through it and another argument ensued, during which you told him to just eat the fucking thing and stop riding your ass about it. He ate the entire tub by the next morning. You never bought yogurt again.

After dinner one night, he caught you scraping most of your meal off your plate into the trash. He’d seen you pushing it around from the corner of his eye, picking at it like you didn’t have an appetite and maybe you didn’t. He assumed you’d pack it away for later like a normal person, but instead you threw it out. It resulted in yet another argument, and this one ended with hot, angry tears spilling down your cheeks right before you told him to go fuck himself for constantly hassling you about your eating habits.

That was about two weeks ago, and the two of you hadn’t talked since. It was the longest you’d gone without talking to each other over the six months or so since you met, during which you’d argued more times than he could count. Lately, though, you weren’t around much and neither was he. Too many missions. A blessing in disguise.

Bucky knew there were more important things for him to worry about. Of course he did. He still got nightmares, despite the weekly therapy he’d begrudgingly started to attend at Steve’s suggestion and Sam’s prodding. He still had to unpack and work through the horrors of his past, never mind his present.

Yes, there were more important things for him to worry about, which was the exact reason why he honed right in on the petty bullshit. It distracted him from the things he didn’t want to think about.

In some ways, you became his distraction.

When he first met you, he thought you were attractive – and to him, your body still was but Christ, did your personality drive him up a wall. There was never a shred of sexual tension between you and him because all that existed was just plain tension. The air was thick with it whenever you were in the same room, and your teammates were always prepared to break up whatever argument arose from the two of you being together for more than a minute.

While you picked a fight every now and then, it was usually him and, truth be told, Bucky didn’t really blame you for not liking him. He didn’t like himself much, either. He’d done more than enough terrible things for a lifetime or two. That was one reason why he was in therapy.

By comparison, this was minor. It was stupid. It was petty, but whenever you were around, every word out of his mouth was a criticism. He blamed it on the fact that out of everyone he worked with, you were by far the most obnoxious and you made no secret of your disdain for him. It was annoying. You were annoying.

That said, the two of you somehow worked well together. On the battlefield, you listened to his orders without question. You respected him as a soldier, an ally. You did the job, and you did it well – usually. In the thick of it all, he actually liked to be with you and if he was honest, he’d admit that liked the fire in your eyes when you covered him or returned fire. Unfortunately, he just couldn’t afford to be so honest. Not anymore.

The problem was that as soon as the fight was over, you were at each other’s throats all over again. All the excess adrenaline coursing through his veins and yours after a mission certainly didn’t help matters any, especially on the plane ride home, when tensions were high and him just looking at you wrong set you off. Or vice versa.  

It was only by pure luck that you hadn’t been paired up over the last two weeks.

He quickly discovered that that was a bad thing. A very bad thing. When you were finally paired up together for a mission, it went south very quickly due to your lack of communication. He wasn’t paying as much attention as he should have been and neither were you. Instead, you wound up being thrown against a wall where you smacked your head against brick and concrete and, for a moment, he thought the worst.

You didn’t regain consciousness for almost a week.

It wasn’t a pleasant time for Bucky. No, his nightmares were worse than ever because now he had you to add to his always-growing list of mistakes: his failure to protect you, to watch your six like you had his. He blamed himself for not trying to fix things sooner.  He blamed himself for a lot of things. That was another reason why he was in therapy.

He wasn’t there when you woke up, but he arrived just in time to watch you yank the IV from your arm, snarling at the nurse not to touch you again. When the nurse saw him walk in, she looked relieved to see him, almost, like he’d be able to talk some sense into you.

Yeah, right.

You quickly pulled the bag of fluids hanging beside your bed and scanned it with frantic eyes, searching for something – he didn’t know what. All he knew was that it was unsettling to see you like this, so frazzled, so upset. Something was wrong.

“Hey, doll,” he said, taking a couple of cautious steps into the room, but you didn’t even seem to hear him. Normally you would have snapped at him over the casual address, but instead, you were talking to yourself.

“Six days,” you muttered, trying to do the math on your fingers, but it didn’t quite click. Your brain was a hazy mess, and unfortunately, you couldn’t remember much – just that you’d been knocked back into a wall and then – nothing. “Ten thousand?”

It wasn’t until you swore loudly that you realized Bucky was in the room. He was just the person you needed to see right now. Perfect.

“What do you want?” you asked, dropping the bag down onto the bed. Next to it lay the feeding tube the nurse had just very uncomfortably removed.

“You wanna tell me what all this,” he gestured to the bloody IV on the floor, “is about?”

“Not particularly,” you snarked. “I’m being discharged. Out of my way, Barnes.”  

As always, you drove him up a wall, but he was a little more forgiving this time. You’d just woken up from a coma. That was probably why your behaviour was so off. It made sense.

Instead of dignifying your attitude with a response, he just stepped aside and let you storm out into the hallway.

Still, he found himself trailing behind you – giving you your distance, but he also wanted to keep an eye on you for any other erratic behaviour. If you noticed that he was following you, you didn’t say anything. Instead, you signed some discharge papers at the nurse’s station, accepted a small pile of folded clothing – your torn uniform – and made your way to the elevator.

Bucky got in with you almost automatically. In fact, he hardly even realized it until his feet had already taken him there. He didn’t know why.

You eyed him suspiciously as he pressed the button to the ground floor, but he ignored you. The ride downstairs was silent and uncomfortable – tense as always – but your racing thoughts distracted you from it, fingernails tapping anxiously against the handrail in the elevator as it made its descent.

As terrible as you felt, you had to go to the gym. You had to burn off the ten thousand calories that had been pumped into your body over the last week. Needed to.  It wasn’t optional.

“Sorry,” he said then, and you glanced over at him. He didn’t apologize often.

“For what?”

“I wasn’t covering you,” he responded, meeting your eyes for a moment before he looked away. There was a hint of shame there that you didn’t miss. “I should’ve had your six. You got hurt because I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Shit happens,” you told him, tone neutral, but some small part of you appreciated his apology – his honesty, even though it wasn’t his fault. You were the one who should have been paying more attention, but all you were focused on during the mission was burning off the calories you’d had at lunch. The fact that you and Bucky were in the middle of a rough patch at the time was the furthest thing on your mind.

Just like now.

Bucky didn’t say anything at that, and the conversation died out. Thankfully, the elevator finally reached the bottom floor just in time with a quiet ‘ding’.

You didn’t even look in his direction as you exited the elevator, planning to make a beeline for your room to get changed into more suitable clothing. The nightgown you were wearing – courtesy of medical – was comfortable, but not exactly good for exercising.

“You got someplace to be?”

You shot Bucky an irritated look and said like it was obvious, “The gym.”

“You just got out of medical—”

“Let it go, Barnes,” you called over your shoulder.

Thankfully, he did let it go.

You made it to your room in the neighbouring building just fine, but the moment you shut the door behind you, your calm demeanour was replaced with panic. How the hell were you supposed to burn off ten thousand calories? You were going to be at the gym all night.

And you were.

In the end, you were at the gym for hours. The sun was shining high in the sky when you were released from the medical ward, and now it was dark. A quick check of your watch showed that it was a little after eight o’clock.

By this point, you’d done a half hour on every single cardio machine in the gym: treadmills, ellipticals, a random stair climber that never got used, then spin bikes when your back started to hurt from being on your feet for so long.

Now that your legs were thoroughly fatigued, you were putting your arms to work with a punching bag. Boxing still required some leg work, of course, but your wrapped knuckles were catching the brunt of it.

In between the bursts of cardio, you were going to the bathroom and weighing yourself after, not that it made much of a difference – not even half a pound. With all the exercise, you wound up drinking far too much water, so now you were peeing out the difference. As soon as you finished pulling your sweaty leggings back up, you already felt like you had to go again. It was a special brand of hell.

You’d just returned to the heavy bag and landed a couple of unsteady punches when you realized you weren’t alone. Bucky was here, now. Of course he was.

Over the past few hours, some of your teammates had come through. Steve and Sam came in to train together, and were pleasantly surprised to find that you were finally up and at ‘em again. Clint grinned at you and gave you a thumbs-up. Natasha was glad to see that you were already feeling well enough for some cardio.

Except you weren’t feeling well enough at all. You were ready to puke. Truth be told, you’d been feeling like that for a while, but you held it back because you needed to burn off the calories. With a conservative estimate, you’d maybe only burned a third of the ten thousand.

Just a third.

“You feeling alright?”

Bucky’s hand was gentle on your sweaty shoulder and you jumped, very nearly losing your footing. You knew your body was a bit more sluggish, now, but your reaction time was embarrassingly slow.

You shrugged off his hand. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine,” he told you.

“So what?” you snapped at him. “Why do you even care? You didn’t during the mission.”

That was a low blow, and you knew it. He’d already apologized, for one, and for two, it wasn’t his fault to begin with. It was yours.

When Bucky’s jaw tensed, you turned back to the heavy bag in front of you, refusing to meet his eyes again.

You hated always being so nasty to him, but only he could inspire such a rise out of you. You weren’t sure why. The two of you got on like water and oil, constantly arguing about stupid, petty bullshit. The arguments usually happened when you were at your worst: cranky from a lack of food or angry with yourself for an abundance of it. Sometimes, he got a bug up his ass about your eating habits, and that was what really set you off. It was a sensitive topic. You despised talking about it because that just stressed you out even more, so much that every now and then it made you cry.

Of course, he’d never seen any of that until a couple of weeks ago.

The punches you landed were weak and pathetic, let alone not where you’d been aiming at all. That may have had something to do with how spotty your vision was – like a runner’s high times a thousand. You blamed it on your own lack of focus and discipline, but you knew deep down that it was because your body desperately needed to rest. Either that, or it needed some real sustenance, not liquid calories from a feeding tube.

You leaned a hand against the heavy bag to steady yourself from the sudden dizzy spell, but it didn’t help much. Your body pitched forward anyway.

“Hey,” came Bucky’s voice, then – soft and soothing. “Don’t worry. I’ve got you.”

His arms were around you, one hard and unyielding under the sleeve of his sweatshirt, but he was warm – so warm and gentle and you found yourself leaning into him, dazed and half-conscious. Your vision was spottier than ever, almost black. You weren’t sure if it was because your eyes were closed or you were dreaming. Maybe a mixture of both.

Then, a split second later, you were blinking up at your bedroom ceiling.

Bucky was there; he’d pulled your desk chair over to your bedside and was sitting in it, thumbing through one of your books. When you shifted, he looked up from the novel to you.

“What the hell,” you muttered under your breath, slowly pulling yourself up to a seated position. When had you made it back to your bedroom? And for that matter, what was he doing here? With one of your favourite books, no less.

“You fainted,” he explained so simply that it set you off.

“I didn’t faint,” you argued, more for the sake of arguing than anything else. You didn’t faint like a pathetic damsel in distress. That wasn’t something that you did. “I was doing cardio, and then…”

His brows raised expectantly.

You crossed your arms in a huff. “And then I ended up here.”

“Sounds like you fainted to me, but what do I know,” he said dryly – teasing, almost, but you weren’t on good enough terms for that. “I mean, you sure were dead weight for someone who was still conscious.”

“What?” you asked stupidly.

He carried you here? That was bad enough, but what’s worse was that he said you were heavy. He was a super soldier; you definitely shouldn’t have been too heavy, but you had been eating worse than usual lately and you probably put on an extra few pounds whilst in medical—

“Christ, would you calm down? I’m kidding,” he interrupted your anxious thoughts and you realized, then, that they must have shown on your face.

When you met his eyes and saw that gorgeous pale blue so up close, you briefly forgot what you were panicking about to begin with. You’d always loved his eyes, despite how often the two of you were at each other’s throats. They were just about the only thing you liked about him.

Whatever fleeting appreciation you may have had disappeared in an instant when he added, “You know I’m gonna have to take you back to medical if you push yourself too hard again.”

You frowned. “I didn’t push myself too hard, I was working off—”

Then you cut yourself off and chewed your lip. You almost said too much. He wouldn’t get why your head was so fucked up because, honestly, even you didn’t get it. How could you expect someone else to?

“You were working off what?”

You glanced at him and found that he genuinely seemed like he wanted to know. Actual curiosity, and possibly a hint of concern played out on his features as he studied your face.

Well, if he wanted to know so badly, then you’d tell him. Maybe then he’d finally leave you alone. Good riddance.

“The calories,” you mumbled, feeling even stupider after saying it out loud.

His brows furrowed in confusion. “What?”

“The calories,” you repeated a bit more clearly. “Medical force-fed me while I was out.”

“Why does that matter?” he asked far too seriously for your liking. “You’re lucky you’re not brain dead.”

You bristled at the way he brushed off your concerns so casually. “What, like you?”

Bucky exhaled slowly, offering a glimpse of exactly how patient he was trying to be with you. “Look, I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. You’re obviously just fine,” there was a little bite to his tone as he got to his feet, then, “so I’m gonna go.”

Well, now you felt bad.

“Shit, Barnes, wait—”

You didn’t realize you’d actually reached out for him until your fingers embedded in the thick fabric of his shirt sleeve. He stared at your hand on his metal forearm for a moment before he turned his eyes up to yours, looking every bit as unsettled as you felt.  

You immediately let him go and started picking at a very interesting piece of lint on your duvet, doing your best to ignore the heat rising in your cheeks. “Sorry. Thanks for, you know, caring.”

He scoffed a little at that, to which you hesitantly looked over at him again only to find that he’d flopped right back down into the chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “Someone has to. You look like hell.”

“Gee, thanks,” you sassed. “I can really feel the love.”

Despite your bristly demeanour, and his, you felt the corners of your lips turn up all the same.

Part Two / Master List

[bucky-iss-bae]

Reminiscences - Peter Hale x OFC (Part 2)

Hello againnnn - so I’m finally back, finally going to be active. 

My life has been a mess, I’ve not been motivated, and mentally I’ve gone through a lot the last 10 months, got thorugh University, Graduated, got a job, was a shit job, got another grad job during quarentine, and it’s been good and bad... 

Sorry for never posting and being bad at this, but I want to bounce back, so now its timmmeee. Also this Fic is actually completed. 

Want to post more, and just give you guys good content xoxo 

Fandom: Teen Wolf

Pairing: Peter Hale x OFC (Calla)

Word Count: 2900 (Sorryyy, idk why it’s so long) 

Warnings: None - Slow Start I guess

Summary: Calla has grown up as Derek’s best friend, she’s known the Hales her whole life,she’s known their secrets and everything in Beacon Hills. Things in Beacon Hills are quiet, the pack are a family, and Calla realises that Peter knows more of her secrets than she realises.

A/N: Hope you all enjoy, any feedback is welcome x

Masterlist Fandom List

Peter Hale x OFC - Reminiscenes Part 1 

Part 2 

The days following that evening I completely ignored Peter. I saw him whenever he was lurking around Derek’s, I even went to the efforts of walking the complete opposite direction as him when I went grocery shopping. But if he remembers, everything every single thing I told him. Then I may as well die now. Especially since he’ll use that against me. This is Peter we’re on about.

“So you’ve apparently been ignoring Peter?” Derek asked once he settled onto my couch on Thursday.

I rolled my eyes, “And. There’s nothing wrong with that, he’s a psycho”

Derek huffed out a laugh, “There is when it makes him mopey. He comes around to mine in hope that you’re there you know”  

“Well, maybe he should stop trying to be such a stalker” I told his nephew. It was weird that there was such a large but short age difference between Peter and us. He wasn’t ever seen as the adult when we were younger, he had a boyish smirk, he had charm, and wit, and was so different compared to how he is now. He completely changed because of the fire, and the 5 years of solitude almost. He grew up, yet I didn’t see this change despite being the only person visiting him. I didn’t know he was the alpha yet I made a fool out of myself by being there for him, and he couldn’t even trust me.

“You sure it’s that?” Derek asked.

“Derek. If you’re here to talk about Peter then you can just leave. Actually no you can’t you don’t have an option, stop talking about Peter, tonight is about us. If you want I’ll send him a text saying hi later and then ignore him”

Derek shook his head a small smirk on his face. I felt a bit bad that I was taking Derek away from his boyfriend. But I needed my best friend sometimes as well.

“Good, now how are things with Stiles going?”

Derek huffed out a laugh, “They’re going well. Really well actually, never really thought that I would end up with him, but it’s the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time. And I sound like a soppy teenager. So let’s talk about your love life”

I snorted, “Right, what love life? Actually, I went on a date last week, it was a complete failure. I’m just glad that the girls who set me up with him don’t work in the same department as him”  

Derek started to laugh, “How comes I didn’t know about this?”

“Because I didn’t tell anyone. I didn’t even... it wasn’t even a big deal for me. I wasn’t excited, I just wanted to get it over and done with, and the worst thing is when I was getting into my car at the end of the night he tried to kiss me. And Derek I still cringe, what happened was I turned my head so fast he kissed my hair. Completely missed the cheek”

This caused Derek to laugh, loudly, at me. “Wow Calla. Who would’ve thought huh?” He asked.

I rolled my eyes at him, “Shut up. It was a mess, so I rather not talk about that. Instead, I’m going to set up a tinder profile.”

Derek still had this amused smirk on his face, it was nice seeing him like this. For the first time in years, he was happy. His life was on track, sure there were constant threats to the town, but that happens, that’s part of the job description of being a werewolf, and with Derek being a complete shifter, it makes a difference.

But being with Stiles makes a difference, you can literally see the way that he looks at him, and I haven’t seen him this happy in a long time. He’s almost that young cocky guy he once was, but a more matured version who has a history to him. Who has so much more to himself than ever before, and I’m proud of him. Proud of everything he’s gone through and defeated. I know his mom, and sister would also be proud of him, whether he’s an alpha or not, he’s still so powerful, and has such a good heart.

“Let’s get started then” He grinned at me.

I rolled my eyes and rather than Pizza we ordered Chinese food, and rather than watching a film we created a tinder profile for me. It was terrible, Derek called in the big guns and Stiles was on Face time with us, which made it even worse for me. But I didn’t mind, I love stiles, and boy let me tell you he added spice to my basic profile. And obviously gave my pictures a yes or no.

“I’ve helped you guys this far, let me help with the swiping” Stiles said through the phone.

I scoffed at him, “Derek say bye to your man he’s helped enough”

Derek shook his head with a small smile on his face, “You heard the boss” He said to him.

“All that help, you better show me your matches or who you’ve spoken to over the next few days Calla. I’ll know if you don’t”

I laughed at him and Derek soon hung up, “Come on, let’s see who’s around then”

Both Derek and I started swipping through these guys, commenting to each other, and swiping left or right. Mainly left. Let’s be honest. Most of these guys either looked like guys who were balding too early in life, or others who were after a quick fuck. Despite everything I did manage to swipe right a few times.

“Please let’s stop now. Like, if you think I’m going actually going to find anyone through tinder its... not likely. It’s just a bit of fun, could lead to a quick lay”

“The same way Stiles and I getting together wasn’t likely”

I grinned at him “I should’ve called it. When you constantly wanted to get mad at him, way back when, and you just couldn’t. But that itself feels like years ago”

“Yeah, the same way my uncle spared your life?” Derek said back.

I glared at him and hit his arm, “I hate you, and I’m pretty sure your uncle is a sociopath”

“Yeah. Same but, let’s be real here. He has a soft spot for you Calla”

“Derek, I will stab you if you don’t shut up.”

“I would love to see you try”

I narrowed my eyes at him, “I will call Argent right now and get him to help me out”

He laughed, “Alright, I’ll shut up now. I’m sorry”

I nodded, “You better be sorry... Also why do you keep bringing up your uncle of all people to me?” I asked curiously.

Derek knows nothing of what I done whilst he was away, he knows nothing of the feelings I once harboured for Peter, maybe I still do which is why I’m so defensive, but no one needs to know this. But still, there’s got to be a reason behind Derek’s madness right now. Maybe Peter wormed his way into his head? It’s a possibility.

“You just said you wanted me to shut up”

I shrugged, “Just curious. Then you can shut up, and we can watch something”

He shook his head, “The way he acts around you I guess. He’s a prick towards everyone, including you don’t get me wrong, but he’s a different type of prick round you. And he cares about you, he gets protective, worries, cares”

I would be lying if I said that didn’t affect me, but it does. Although it means nothing.

“Derek, are you forgetting that I was basically raised around him. Wherever you were, he was, or the other way around. Like he’s been a constant figure in my life for a very long time. Sure he wasn’t mobile for a few of those years. But he was still in Beacon Hills. So maybe that’s why, maybe he has something that slightly resembles feelings from when he’s younger and he sees me as the kid that he used to teach basketball to, and just putting this out there I am amazing at basketball, which has got to be the meaning behind this madness, and this is because of him, and maybe a little you, but still”

“Really? We live in this town, and that’s what you call madness?” He asked.

“Yes Derek. That is madness, you’re forgetting I’m just a human girl who only just knows how to defend herself and I rather have that as my type of madness instead of anything else”

“How have you actually been?” He asked me giving me a serious look, “Like... you’ve literally been thrown into this world again, months after your parents passed away, and sure that was a couple of years ago, but you rarely see your younger brother because he’s working abroad, and the only other family you have is us. But most weekends we’re off fighting something supernatural, and you’re just at the loft, waiting.”

I shrugged, “I’m fine Derek. I’m happy... sure I miss my parents a lot and that set me back a lot. That made me want to constantly curl up into a ball and just cry. But having you back, having this normal-ish again. These last few months, I’ve gotten better. Ive also got my girls” I said with a smile, but he looked at me, waiting for me to elaborate causing me to sigh and twist my body completely towards him,

“Derek, I’m working an amazing Job, sure it doesn’t pay the best but I don’t need the money. I have money, instead I’m doing something I enjoy, and they’re easy shifts. I’ve always wanted to be an elementary teacher, but without the stress so a teaching assistant is the best thing. And I have Fridays off, and I do talk to my brother. Just not as often as I want because he’s doing so well for himself in London. And I have you Derek, I have my life long best friend. After everything we’ve been through we’re both here and we’re both happy. Sure my life could be further along than it currently is, but I’m finally in a good place”

He nodded at me, “Good” He whispered, “I’m happy to hear that”

“I hate you” I said shaking my head, but in reality he knows that I love him and he is my absolute best friend no matter how much I want to kill him.  

**

Apparently Lydia and Malia found it amusing that I now have an online dating profile. Everyone did, all aside from one person. That person I’m still avoiding but he still finds a way to worm his way into my life, especially since I’m currently sat with the girls, who are judging each and every guy whose photo I scroll through, and his face pops up.

Malia was laughing, seeing her father’s face on my phone, and Lydia finding it as amusing made me realise I need more friends other than Derek my age. Especially since Lydia decided on swiping right.

“Well, well, it’s a match” Lydia laughed, “But it makes me think, whats the maximum age you’re hitting here”

I rolled my eyes with a small scoff, trying to keep my heartbeat in place, “Well, if I wanted to talk to him. I would, yet I’m not, and you just swiped for me, that’s not fair, and guy my age are… I don’t know” I said to them.

“Well he clearly wants to talk to you” Lydia murmured.

I scoffed, “He wants to get under my skin. It’s what he does. Anyway don’t you girls have I don’t know other stuff to do?” I asked trying to change the subject.

“Nope, completely free tonight.” Lydia grinned.

I internally groaned but only seconds later was I literally saved by the bell, my phone started to ring, and Derek’s name popped up.

“Hello” I answered.

“Where are you?” He asked.

“I’m at Lydia’s place. With Lydia and Malia. Why?”

“No reason. Just, a few threats about, tell me when you’re going to leave to get home, and message me when you get there alright”

I rolled my eyes but had a small smile on my face, “Yes of course Derek. Do you know who or what it is?”

“Not sure yet. Probably isn’t something too dangerous. But whatever it is, they’re drawing other hunters to town. And now we have twice as much to look out for.”

“Stay safe then Derek. Does Chris know the hunters?”

“He’s looking into it”

I nodded, “Alright then. Just make sure you’re all safe and everything ok”

“Yeah always. Remember to message me when you get home” He then hung up and I looked at Lydia,

“What’s happened?” She asked me,

“Something else is out there, along with some hunters. And now I’m worried that these hunters will obviously know about our boys, and one thing will lead to another and someone might get hurt”

She had a worried expression on her face before looking at Malia who was on the phone to Scott, “We’ll figure it out. We always do”

I nodded, although I didn’t get involved as much considering I’m human with no special ability at all, and no badge, and well I’m not the smartest of the bunch. I just make sure everyone’s safe and worry about them all whilst making sure they eat and do their homework. That’s obviously the teacher side of me coming out there, no matter what ages I teach even if I am only a teaching assistant who works 4 days a week.  

“So Scott just said that Stiles and Chris are trying to find out who the hunters actually are, and that he Derek and Peter are going to find whatever’s out there. He told me to stay here...”

“You’re not are you?” Lydia asked.

Malia smirked and shook her head, “Nope. And I’m pretty sure you two won’t either, so who’s going to drop me off at Scott’s house?”

Both Lydia and I looked at each other before sighing and getting up, we got our stuff together, she called out to her mom telling her that we were going to Scott’s before we all left.

**

“What are you all doing here?” Scott asked once we walked in.

“You think we’re really going to let all the boys have the fun?” Malia asked her boyfriend, “And come on, I know those woods better than anything” She shrugged.

No one could deny that, both her and Chris were the best hunters here. As in being able to physically find something with the given clues.

“And I’m here to assist Stiles and Chris apparently” Lydia shrugged, everyone easily let that pass before all eyes were on me.

“I thought I told you to go home. It’s dangerous”

I shrugged, “I know. I really didn’t have any other choice” I said nodding my head towards Malia.

“Well you should just go home then. You’ll just be in the way otherwise” Peter snapped at me.

I rose my eyebrows at him, silently cursing Lydia for swiping right on his stupid face.

“I might just stay, make sure you don’t snake anyone out” I spat back to him.

“What and you think you’ll be able to stop me?”

“Peter won’t do anything, we’re not even sure what the problem is at the moment. So just go home Calla” Derek told me.

I felt a bit taken back at how blunt and rude he was at that, and considering no one decided on saying anything, I just grabbed my bag and left without a word. Because hey there’s nothing new there, being treated like I’m nothing despite seeing everyone as family. I would’ve expected a bit more considering they’ve got literal kids in there helping yet I can’t. Even if it is to make sure they’re all safe and not making stupid plans. I was there when Talia was alpha, I know how things work. Instead I just get embarrassed surrounded by my friends, and left to feel worthless because I’m of no help.

As soon as I got in my car, I knew that all I needed right now was a glass of wine, and some trash TV.

Which is exactly what I done when I got home, wine, some trash TV, and the comfort of my own apartment. And as petty as I may sound, I just hate feeling this way, and knowing that it’s something that constantly happens, I don’t see why I get involved in the first place. It’s the same old thing, I try and be there for everyone, they shut me out whenever shit goes down and I just keep running back. But no this isn’t going to keep happening because this week I will make the time and effort to go out with my girlfriends. I’ll dress up and have fun without worrying about anything else. Derek won’t be there to stop me, Peter won’t be there with his snarky remarks, and I won’t be surrounded by teenagers.

Which is exactly why I messaged my friends that I’m always talking to yet never have the time to see because I’m constantly with everyone else. We spoke for a little while before I asked when everyone was free for drinks, and guess what this girl is doing on Thursday after work. A night out, with my girls, and I can’t wait.  

Because I really felt in the mood to treat myself, I also planned on going shopping with one of the girls tomorrow after work. So no harm done there, I’ll buy myself a new outfit, some new makeup all ready for Thursday.

Peter Hale x OFC - Reminiscences Part 3 

[thewritingcaptain]

Pepperony Pizza: Part 1

“I’m just glad to hear anything, Potts. Especially your voice again.” He stopped, sighing again. Pepper looked at him again, her brows drawing together. “What?”

Notes: Yeah, okay, totally unnecessary to title this that, but I’ve been wanting to, like, since I joined the fandom. It’s just to punny to pass up. Sue me.

Also, notice, this says it’s parts, not chapters, because this isn’t a coherent story so much as a series of oneshots about them. In canon, out of canon, random, fluffy, and yeah, a good chunk of the time, likely smutty. So. You’ve been warned ahead of time. 

As always, let me know if anyone wants to be on the taglist, and enjoy!

(WARNING: Talk about trauma, to some extent, and smutty near the end. Post-IM1/AUy.)

The days almost seemed… longer.

It was odd. You’d think, spending three months imprisoned in a cave… well, every day seemed to last a week, and you would think it couldn’t get much longer than that.

Yet it had been mere days since he’d arrived home - only three - and the days had seemed to last… forever. Maybe it was just a combination of constantly being tired and sore and feeling a bit like a cranky child when he had to be in public for too long, or maybe it had more to do with his newfound appreciation for life. It was hard to tell. 

After his press conference the first day, he’d gone home, and he hadn’t left the house since. But he’d had a dozen or so visitors over the course of the past few days, and at least double that in phone calls. A lot of them he’d forced on to Pepper, who had thankfully taken it like a champ. 

Pepper. That woman had to be his savior. Not just because of her help since he’d gotten home, but in general. She’d run his life for him for the past… oh, upwards of five years at least, but his brain was still rather muddled, so give or take a few years. And she’d dealt with all his bullshit, his attitude, his responsibilities, and never said a word about it, except for rare occasions where he really deserved it. 

Hell, he’d never even given her a raise. He should do that. He should double her current salary. 

But more than what she did at home, she was what he had held on to those three months in the cave. When Yinsen has asked him if he had any family, he had to tell him nothing, because he truly had nothing. They weren’t really family; they were barely even friends, probably, as far as she was concerned. But she was all he thought about when he’d been asked that. She was all he had, all he really wanted to come back to. 

And when he’d stepped off that plane… it took everything he had not to run to her. It helped that it had been taking everything he had to stay upright at the time, or he just might have, willpower or no. But if she had responded to his sarcasm with anything but, he probably would have returned it in earnest. Hell, it had been three months. She had a right to feel however she wanted, to leave if she wanted to, but she hadn’t. She was still there. 

And he was happy about that. Even if he was exasperated at her fussing over him like he was an invalid or a child incapable of making his own decisions. 

Which explained why he was currently being checked out by a doctor who had set up shop in the middle of his living room, despite his protests that he had no need for it, and she was sitting in the chair across from him, looking oddly smug. 

He’d tried to resist for the first few minutes when the doctor had shown up, but in the end, he really did need treatment for some of his injuries. So he let him work on him with few protests. The only thing he did refuse was the cast he wanted to put his arm in and the IV fluids he wanted to pump into him. He was perfectly capable of rehydrating himself, and he’d be damned if they were going to cast a muscle issue just so he couldn’t use the arm. The sling would do fine when he wasn’t busy.

When the doctor finally left, Pepper was still sitting in the chair there, although her attention had long since moved on from focusing solely on him. Her long red hair was clipped - rather haphazardly, for as put together as she normally was - back out of her face, and while she was wearing her normal business attire, she hadn’t been bothered to do her makeup, either, and she wasn’t wearing heels with her ensemble like she normally did. She was still Pepper - still uber professional, still caring, still sassy and somewhat overbearing - but she also looked altogether more… normal. Human. Vulnerable.

Despite the witty banter they had going on, he - and everyone else really - knew that his disappearance had been hard on her. Even if she only thought of him as a boss, he’d been her entire life for several years, and him up and disappearing was more than enough to upset the fragile balance she managed to maintain between her life and his. For someone as hyper-scheduled and organized as Pepper, that in itself was enough to upset her.

He studied her as she worked, moving between a tablet and her notebooks, writing things down occasionally, but mostly scanning, chewing on the pen absentmindedly. 

He sighed heavily, shifting a bit and letting out a small, pained groan. Her head shot up immediately. “Mr. Stark?”

“I told you not to call me that anymore.” He closed his eyes for a moment, taking a breath to manage the pain before opening them again. “And I’m fine. Although I’ll have you know I wasn’t half as sore until you brought that monster in here to poke and prod me.” He mock-scowled at her. “I should fire you. For… for misuse of company funds, and for doing everything else I directly told you not to do.” 

Pepper raised an eyebrow at him. He could see the bemusement twinkling in her eyes, even if she tried to hide it with the pen by pressing it against her lips to smush down the little grin. “Tony, if you want a reason to fire me, go ahead. But we both know you couldn’t survive without me, especially right now.” She cocked her head at him. “And if you’re going to use money as an excuse to fire me, you’ve got way more ammo than you think.”

“Oh?” He raised an eyebrow back at her. This was news to him. “Is that so?”

“The doctor coming here is hardly the only thing I’ve done without asking you in the past few months. It's only fair to tell you that I continued to receive a salary from you even though you weren’t here, and… well.” She shrugged. “Things had to be kept running somehow, the same way I had to live somehow.”

Tony just laughed, then winced a bit. Laughing aggravated his ribs and all the injuries to his diaphragm, but it felt good to do it again, regardless. “I’m glad to hear it. Someone had to take charge around here.” He shrugged. “And it’s not as if you didn’t deserve it.” 

Her cheeks flushed with color, and she looked down. “I’m glad to hear it.”

“I’m just glad to hear anything, Potts. Especially your voice again.” He stopped, sighing again. 

Pepper looked at him again, her brows drawing together. “What?”

Tony just shrugged. He closed his eyes. “Would you do anything I asked you to, Pepper?” 

She stared at him for a moment, chewing her lip. She would never get used to hearing him say her name. He had always just called her Miss Potts. She wasn’t sure if she liked this new, informal version of Tony better or not. Especially when he asked her questions like that. “What?” she repeated, her voice wavering a little.

Tony tore his eyes from the ceiling to look at her again, meeting her eyes. He had such pretty brown eyes, like melted chocolate. And in the dim light… she shook the thoughts away. Get a grip. “Well?” he asked, quietly. “Would you?” 

“Tony, I…” Pepper hesitated. He didn’t normally ask questions like this. “Of course I would.”

“But would you, really? What if I asked you to do something you didn’t agree with, or that you didn’t want to do?”

Pepper stared at him for a moment, unsure. “I… I don’t know,” she admitted, lowering her voice to match his. “It would depend on what you asked me to do and why.” 

Tony nodded thoughtfully, looking away again. “So, you wouldn’t let me force you to do something, then? You wouldn’t feel like you had to listen to me, or else?”

“Is there an “or else” I should be afraid of, Tony?” 

He looked back at her, clearly still lost in thought. “No. Not from me. Not anymore.” Not that he thought he’d really have fired her for refusing to do almost anything before, but he definitely couldn’t bring himself to do it now. 

She nodded, just once, then looked away again. “Why? Was there something you wanted me to do?” 

Tony just looked at her. Once upon a time he might have seen that as an invitation for an innuendo, but now… “Can I be honest with you about something?” She stared at him and nodded, bewildered but listening. “I…” he stopped and swallowed thickly. He didn’t want to get emotional, nor push her into anything. He’d just given up on hiding how he felt. “I’m sorry if this is...odd, and I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to. I just…” he looked at her, those brown eyes soft and sad in the dim light. “Can I hold you?” 

Her mouth opened and closed a few times in surprise. That was definitely not what she’d expected to hear. A lewd joke, maybe, but not… that. She didn’t know what to say. 

There was only one answer, it seemed. She got up, moving over to him, and settling as close to him as she dared. He held his good arm out, and she leaned against him, burying her face in his side and closing her eyes. 

He dropped his arm around her, squeezing her as tight as he dared. “When I was in that cave, Pepper…” he closed his eyes, and she looked up at him, watching him. “You were my driving thought. I can’t lie to you, not anymore. I thought about how I had nothing but you and as time went on… I wanted nothing more than to come back to you.” He opened his eyes and looked down at her. She was watching him with watery eyes. “I owe you the truth, Pepper. I’ve wanted you so badly, for so long. And I’ve done everything I can to try to fill that void with something - someone - else. It’s worked about as well as you can see.” He stopped, his eyes searching her face. 

“And I know it’s wildly inappropriate and that you have no return on the interest. But I know you’re okay with it to an extent, or we wouldn’t have made it this long, and you wouldn’t be here. Literally here, next to me, but you also wouldn’t have waited for me, or put up with my shit for the past… however many years it’s been.” He sighed and stopped again, looking down. “I know, I just said… a lot. But honestly… I just need to know. How you feel. Because if it’s nothing, I'll never bring it up again. But if it’s not-...”

He barely finished what he was saying before she leaned forward and kissed him, gently, barely, once, then again, deeper, and again. His good hand came up and cupped the back of her head, pulling her closer. 

They kissed again, and again, for long minutes, the sweet passion building between them. Tony groaned against her mouth, pulling back after a long few minutes. “Pepper…” he leaned his forehead against hers. “God. I want…”

“I know.” Pepper cupped his cheek, staying close to him and feeling his heartbeat pulsing throughout his body. “But you’re not strong enough, not like you normally are. It won’t be what you want for your first time since coming back.” 

Tony looked down at her, kissing her forehead. “Sweet as that is, Pepper…” he ran his fingers through her hair, pulling her close. “I don’t really care about that sentiment right now. I want you. And if you can’t control yourself from taking me wildly, all the better, but…” he kissed her hairline again. “I only want you. I don’t need anything from you tonight except your naked body for me to taste and touch and…” he nuzzled her hair. “Honestly, I need to drive the night terrors away. Your screams will be more than satisfactory to do that without adding mine to the mix.” 

Pepper looked up at him, her eyes wide. This was escalating quickly, but… She suddenly knew he was completely serious, and it was terrifying and empowering. “I could just suck you off and send you right to sleep on a natural painkiller,” she offered, only half joking. What she said was true, but so was what he wanted. 

“Or you could just take off the blouse and that pencil skirt and bring yourself up to my level.” He raised an eyebrow at her. 

She stared at him for a minute, and he worried he’d overstepped and taken their back and forth too far. Then, “What did you want on your level? This?” She straddled his lap - carefully, not actually putting any weight on him - and leaned back a bit, unbuttoning her blouse slowly. 

Tony groaned, watching her. His bad arm was sore, but it wasn’t enough to keep him from shrugging off the sling and reaching up and palming her breasts through her bra. She groaned a little in return, her nipples hardening instantly. “Jesus, Pepper. I’ve been staring at these for years.” He squeezed her breasts, then ran his hands down her back, cupping her ass. “And this.” He squeezed her butt, cupping each cheek firmly. She squirmed in his grasp, her skirt riding up her thighs. 

He groaned again, the sight of the normally forbidden skin goading him on more. “Christ. Lay down.” He made to pushed her back on the couch in front of him, but she stopped him. 

“I have a better idea.” She kissed him gently, once, ignoring his questioning look as she stood up, unbuttoning her skirt and letting it slide to the floor. She sent her blouse and blazer with it, leaving her in just a flesh tone bra and blue panties - oddly, a color that made her eyes pop - as she climbed back onto him. 

This time, however, she didn’t sit back down, but indeed lifted herself up to his level, leaning over him, bracing her arms on the back of the couch. “Better?” she asked, half teasing as she kissed him again gently. 

“Yes,” he murmured back, completely serious himself. He cocked his head at her. “Except for the panties. The bra can stay, I suppose, but… those have to go.” He raised a brow. “Get rid of them.”

“Oh, but I thought you’d like to do the honors?” She moved a little closer to him, swinging her hips right into his reach. 

He shrugged, running his hands up her legs. “Don’t mind if I do,” he said, sounding so much like his normal, cocky self in that moment that she had to smile. Then he peeled her panties down her hips, and the moment was forgotten as his eyes latched into the patch of hair between her thighs. “Good Lord, Potts.” His voice was suddenly huskier than he remembered it being even a moment ago. “If I’d known how far your perfection spread… I probably would have tried to order you into bed with me years ago.” 

Pepper just laughed softly, already sounding breathless. “Tried being the keyword, Stark.” She ran her fingers through his hair. “It’s impolite to stare, you know.” 

“Oh, I’m going to stare, Potts. Give me a minute to get my fill.” He lifted his head, pulling her hips closer, resting his forehead against her hip. “If you don’t pull away right now, I’m going to touch you.” He glanced up at her, waiting for some kind of sudden rebuttal to how far they’d gotten. He hadn’t expected it to take this turn, but he wasn’t disappointed either. 

“Do it if you dare, Stark.” Her voice was huskier than she expected. 

“Challenge accepted, Potts.” He kissed her hip, nipping at it, then kissed across her waist to do the same to the other. “I’m going to need you to spread more, Pep.” 

The pet name alone sent a shiver down her spine. She readjusted her stance some, spreading her legs wide for him and leaning heavily against the back of the couch. 

“Better.” His voice was husky now too, and his long fingers grasped her hips, pulling her the last bit of distance toward him. 

She gasped softly at the feeling as soon as his mouth brushed against her slit. He kissed right above it, then down it, back up, then did the same thing with his tongue. She couldn’t contain a soft whimper. He hummed softly, the sound only egging him on to dive deeper into her sensitive flesh. He slid his tongue into her folds, up on side, down the other, starting a wet circuit around them and never once hitting her clit. 

“God, Tony…” her hips bucked against his mouth, almost of their own accord. This was the last place she’d expected to end up tonight, but it only made the whole situation all the hotter. 

“Hold still,” was his only response, a gentle warning, before returning to his ministrations, running his hands down her legs as he tugged at each fold in turn with his teeth, then moved down, his tongue tasting at her entrance. She hissed through her teeth and then groaned as she felt him press his tongue into her, giving her hips gentle tugs to both force it deeper and make her massage it inside of her. 

She panted softly, trying to heed his words and not move like he’d asked, but she couldn’t seem to hold still. She rolled her hips against his mouth, closing her eyes. He hadn’t even touched her clit, and her legs were trembling around his face. “Tony-“ She stopped, letting out an almost pained groan and tilting her head back. She wanted to grab his hair, force him to move on, but she didn’t trust herself to stay up if she let go of the back of the couch, and knowing Tony, he might actually stop if she tried to push him. “Please move on.”

He pulled back, glancing up at her through heavily lidded as eyes she panted above him. “Are you going to beg, Pepper?” 

She swallowed thickly, feeling the subtle shift of his body, his fingertips creeping up her inner thigh. “If that’s-oh!” He pressed a finger into her, just one, starting to stroke the inside of her walls. “Good Lord, Tony, if that’s what you want, then yes!” 

“It’s not a requirement,” he answered, almost absentmindedly, focusing on what he was doing to her more than anything. “But I suppose I could give you a little something in return if you did.” 

He pressed a second finger into her, stroking her walls, and she knew he was searching for that spot that would make her scream without abandon. As it was, the feeling was enough to make her legs tremble and her eyes go unfocused. “Tony! Jesus… I’ll beg for whatever you want, but please! It’s so…intense...” she arched her back as best she could, panting slightly. 

“Just like that is fine.” He couldn’t hide his bemusement, half-distracted as he rather was. Normally, he might have made her beg more, might have dragged this out as long as possible, but it had been so long, and it was Pepper, and he just couldn’t. He’d wanted to do this for so long that he couldn’t make himself do anything the way he might have before, because he didn’t want this to be like before. He wanted it to be different. He wanted her, and not just for tonight. 

That thought in mind, he leaned forward again, showering her thighs with light kisses and nips before finally leaning back in and nipping at her clit lightly. She let out an incomprehensible cry, and he leaned forward, drawing it into his mouth and sucking at it, finally letting his fingers brush that spot on her upper wall. She cried out and jolted so hard that he had to readjust his grip on her hip and lean forward slightly to maintain what he was doing. 

“Tony...oh… please, please… that’s so… too much…” She wasn’t even sure what she was saying anymore, only that she was barely holding herself up for how hard she was shaking and definitely wasn’t able to hold herself still anymore. 

He just hummed into her skin, unable to answer and unwilling to pull back to do so. He could feel how close she was, could taste it in her arousal. On another night, with someone else, he might have stopped, might have teased and made them beg more, but even as the thought occurred, he dismissed it almost as quick. He knew he couldn’t - not now, not with her. So he just continued his steady rhythm, pumping and stroking his fingers in her and sucking her clit, letting his tongue tease it just enough-

She gave a loud cry and almost yelled something he could have sworn was an expletive, but was too caught up in her to fully catch as she came against his mouth, her body collapsing into his lap, unable to hold herself up anymore. Tony just grunted and winced slightly, but did his best to cover the pain as he could, cradling her against his chest and stroking his fingers through her hair gently as she laid against him, still panting and twitching with aftershocks of the pleasure. 

Slowly, she came back to. She looked up at him and was surprised to find him watching her with those dark eyes, something like affection glowing in them. He smiled down at her, watching her closely. She could sense him searching for some bit of anger or regret of what had just happened, but he wouldn’t find any. She leaned up and kissed him gently instead. 

He hummed into her mouth, the hand in her hair pulling her closer again, kissing her again until she desperately needed air. She pulled back then, sucking in deep breaths, watching him as he tilted his head back over the back of the couch and closed his eyes, clearly also trying to regulate his breathing. She smiled at the sight and leaned in, pressing a few soft kisses to his neck. He let out a low rumble of approval, his hands lazily running up and down her back.

He was able to relax for half a second before he felt her fingers fumbling at his belt and sighed, grabbing her wrists to stop her. “Pepper…”

“If you try to tell me right now that I don’t have to-“

“You don’t.” He lifted his head, looking at her again with dark, serious eyes. “You didn’t have to do any of that. I want to do this right, Pepper. Maybe we should wait.”

She sighed, putting a hand on his cheek. “Tony. Please. If you really don’t want me to, I won’t. But I want this too, okay? And I want you inside me. Now.” She somehow managed to sound pleading and demanding at the same time. 

He groaned a little, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t even have any condoms, Pepper.” Why she’d decided to do this now, of all times, he couldn’t fathom, but he couldn’t handle the way she was looking at him, and he could feel her hands hovering just above his groin, and it was too much. 

“You don’t need any.” 

Tony frowned a bit. He hadn’t pinned her for someone who’d be willing to be so… well, irresponsible. It seemed out of character for her. “Of course we need-“

“No, Tony.” She shook her head, cutting him off. “I’m on birth control. You don’t really think I could have handled working for you for so long if I was PMSing every few weeks, do you?” 

“Oh.” He swallowed thickly. Under normal circumstances, he might have made a joke, but right now, with her sitting on his lap and looking at him like that, those blue eyes wide and earnest, he couldn’t find it in himself. “Alright, then.” He has no logical reason to say no, and he didn’t really want to, aside from his worry that this was all heat-of-the-moment and she’d regret it in the morning. But there would be no reasoning with her anyway even if it was, and he couldn’t deny how long he’d wanted this. So he just released her wrists and leaned back. “But you’ll have to control it. I don’t think I can.” He hated his weakness, but he knew it wasn’t possible.

“I think I can handle that.” She kissed his cheek and pulled his belt free, tossing it down on the couch. 

Maybe she could, but he wasn’t sure he could. This would be a first for sure. He draped his arms over the back of the couch and let his head fall back again, feeling her undo his button and fly and finally reach in to pull him free. He groaned at the feeling of her hand, petite but firm, wrapping around his hard cock. Then she started pumping him, and he hissed through gritted teeth, his back nearly arching off the couch even as he grabbed her wrist. “Christ! Pepper that’s not what we agreed on,” he hissed in one breath, squeezing his eyes closed. 

He could almost hear her pout as she murmured, “Fine. But if you think I won’t get you back…” 

The rest of whatever she was going to say was lost as she shifted to be above him and sank onto him slowly. He groaned, his hands tightening on the back of the couch. “Holy shit, Potts.” He threw his head back, screwing his eyes closed. “Dear God, I hope you do, but right now…” He couldn’t finish.

It was far from the first time she’d heard him curse, but definitely close to being one of the hottest. “Move?” she suggested, leaning forward, her hands resting on his shoulders as she started to move her hips against his. 

“Yesss,” he hissed, arching again under her and trying to meet her thrusts as best as he could in his position. “That’ll do.” 

So she did, and he groaned again, tilting his head back and moving against her the best he could. It had been over three months and damn it if he wasn’t trying to shake these urges in him in favor of finding what really mattered but he knew inside that that was Pepper, or at least that it could be and that he wanted it to be desperately. So he gave her everything he could in his state, pulling her close and kissing her deeply and desperately as they moved in rhythm.

When she started to get close again, she turned her head away from his mouth and pressed her face into his shoulder, panting hard and letting out low whimpers and groans, her hips redoubling their movements against his at a resounding speed. He groaned, pulling her close as he could and hiding his face in her hair. He was getting there himself, and he could not be happier about how it felt, about the fact that he was buried deep inside her and about to come with her around him and she had not only not stopped him but was going to come with him. 

Her arms wrapped around his neck, and he let his own drop and wrap around her, pulling her close as he groaned into her hair. “Fuck, Potts…” She was wrapped around him completely, trembling and making all those hot sounds into his neck as she rode him. He kept one hand on her back, panting and closing his eyes as the other travelled down and around her body…

“Shit! Tony!” Pepper cried, her grip tightening on him as his hand slid right down to right above their coupled sexes and started rubbing her clit firmly. “God, I…”

He threw his head back. Hearing Pepper of all people curse was almost enough to do him in right there. “I know, Pepper. Fuck.” He brought his other hand to tilt her head up, bringing her face to his and kissing her deeply again. “Come, Pep. Come on,” he murmured against her mouth, and the shudder and cry he got in response, the way she cinched down on him as she released again, was enough to do him in a moment later. 

This time he was too out of his own senses to really notice her going limp and shuddering against him. All he really knew was when he started to come back around, she was a weight on his chest and lap, clinging to him and panting softly again. 

He slid his arms back around her, kissing her hair gently, and for a while they didn’t say anything. He couldn’t even make a smart comment like he normally might have, for fear of ruining the moment. So instead he just kept quiet and did what he’d originally asked her to let him do. He just held her. 

After a little while had passed, Pepper shifted, looking up at him. He blinked down at her, surprised. He’d almost thought she’d dozed off. He was even more surprised when she spoke. 

“You’re… not going to fire me, are you?”

“What?” He stared down at her, mildly horrified. “Why would I fire you?” 

“Just…” she sighed. “Because you’re using me as a rebound. It’s obvious. And when it’s over-“

“It’s not going to be over. No rebound, nothing like that. Were you not listening to me?” He cupped her chin. “I’ve obsessing over you for years, Pepper, but what happened in that cave solidified for me that this is more than an obsession or pure lust. I want you. As mine. As a person and as a PA and as everything that comes with you. I’m not going to end this willingly and I’m certainly not going to fire you.” 

Her mouth opened and closed slowly. “Oh.” She stared at him, her eyes wide and… wet, if he wasn’t mistaken. “But you… I mean, you’ve never… really?”

Tony couldn’t keep a small smile from growing on his face. “Really. Christ, do you really think I would have hesitated so long if I didn’t mean it? I was so afraid to fuck it up. I still am afraid of fucking it up. But if you really feel the same…” He looked down at her. “I want to try, for real, with you. Please. We can… we can completely start over, if you want to, and this doesn’t have to happen again. Jesus, I shouldn’t have let it happen now, but-“

She leaned up and kissed him, effectively cutting off whatever else he was going to stutter out. Tony rambling was a rare sight to see, and it was oddly adorable, but his insecurity, on the other hand, was not. 

When she finally pulled back, he just stared down at her, looking unsure. “Pepper…”

“Yes,” she interrupted. “The past three months have been the worst of my life, Tony. I don’t need any more time to think about it than that.” 

Tony stared at her as that sunk in, and then his eyes widened, almost comically. “Oh. I see.” Then his expression softened a bit, and his arms tightened around her, almost imperceptibly. “Me, neither,” he said quietly. 

She smiled up at him, curling up tighter into his lap. Her head fell against his chest, and he automatically brought a hand up to comb through her hair as he held her close. It was quiet for a long few minutes again, and he simply reveled in holding her again. He could do this for hours. Days, even. 

They never made it quite that far, though. She looked up at him, eyes still glossy. “As comfy is this is… I’m kind of cold, and I’m pretty tired.” She met his eyes. “Can we go to bed?” 

Tony looked down at her, a fond smile tugging up the corners of his mouth. “My bed?” he asked, just to check. 

She quirked a brow at him. “No, mine,” she retorted, but she was clearly teasing. 

He just shrugged. “Whatever suits you, Miss Potts. So long as you don’t expect me to carry you. I can barely carry myself right now.” He sat up, with some effort, which only served to prove his point. 

Pepper laughed, kissing his cheek as she got up and gathered her clothes. “No. I can carry myself. Today, at least.” 

“Fair enough,” Tony agreed amicably. He fixed his clothes - leaving him in stark contrast to her, as she didn’t even bother to put any of hers back on - before getting up and letting her lead him down the hall to his room. The silence before he speaks again is brief but comfortable. “Pepper?” 

She glanced up at him. “Yeah?”

“Maybe we should…” He stopped, hissing a breath through his teeth. “Maybe we should… not do that again. For a while. I mean, I enjoyed it, and I hope you did too, but I… I really want to do this right. I don’t want to get comfortable and fuck it up. So if we could at least talk, perhaps, in the morning, when we’re both better rested and hopefully more clear headed-...”

“We’ll talk,” Pepper promised, smiling and giving his hand a gentle squeeze with the one that wasn’t holding her clothes in a bundle to her chest. “First thing in the morning. I promise.” 

“Great.” He didn’t know if that made him feel better or worse, but it was something, at least. 

They entered his room, and he hesitated at the foot of the bed, gesturing widely at it for her to pick a side. 

Picking a side is easy. Falling asleep in each other’s arms is even easier, even if it doesn’t entirely stave the nightmares away. But they work through that too. 

And if their talk in the morning resulted in him breaking the resolution to start fresh and abstain for a while until they can rebuild foundations they so clearly already have… well, no one ever needed to know but them. 

[ladylynse]

Part IV of Down the Rabbit Hole for the lovely @lumanae​, even though they’re currently drowning the Merlin fandom. *grins* Sometimes distractions are needed, right?

Wirt had heard a lot of stories about college, but somehow, he still wasn’t prepared for one of his roommate’s crazy friends to smuggle a hatchet into their dorm room.

(Previous) Also on FF and the AO3.

-|-

Wirt knew Danny wasn’t in the washroom, but he stepped inside and looked in every remotely feasible spot anyway, including the medicine cabinet that sat above the toilet which would be hard pressed to hold a small child.

He just…. He didn’t know what else to do. There wasn’t anywhere else to go. It’s not like Danny could have crawled out the tiny window, and he definitely hadn’t slipped past Wirt and out into the hallway. It was like he’d gotten sucked into the same black hole as most of Wirt’s socks, except obviously that didn’t exist, but—

Wirt pulled out his phone and started to type a message to Jazz, but how could he tell her he’d lost her brother? He certainly couldn’t explain it. He had no idea where Danny was. Or how he’d gotten there, wherever there was.

Wirt half-hoped Danny would text Jazz and Jazz would text him, but he never heard anything, and he couldn’t find the words to say anything about this to Jazz. He’d find Danny first. Then, if Danny hadn’t already told Jazz, he could pretend this had never happened.

He could get a proper explanation from Toby after he figured out what the heck had happened to Danny.

Wirt locked the room behind him and set off at a quick walk, looking around and weaving past anyone he saw without slowing. Danny couldn’t have gone that far. If he had somehow slipped past him—

Maybe this was a prank. Danny liked pranks. And Jazz had as good as warned him not to leave Danny by himself.

Except Danny was gone, disappearing as easily and completely as the ghosts he had apparently grown up surrounded by, and Wirt couldn’t see a sign of him anywhere.

He did, however, find Wendy.

Sitting cross-legged under a tree in the shade.

Apparently doing nothing except enjoying a cup of coffee.

Wirt slowed to a stop in front of her. “Hey,” he said, though he already had her attention since she was looking up at him with a smile. “Have you, um, seen Jazz’s brother anywhere?”

“Danny? Never met him.” Wendy rose to her feet in one smooth movement. Wirt rather envied her gracefulness; he certainly couldn’t do that, at least not in the shape he was in now. “Jazz has a psych exam today, though. You won’t see her till it’s over.”

“No, I…know that. She’s out now, anyway, but still busy.” Probably. Maybe Danny had texted Jazz to get her to text him, and she just hadn’t because she was catching up with some other friends of hers after the exam. She had to have other friends, right? They could have ambushed her right after she’d texted him and Danny. “What about Toby? Have you seen him?”

“Should I have?”

Wirt bit his lip. “I just saw him and Claire.”

“Claire’s visiting?”

So Wendy didn’t know either. Not that that meant much. Claire’s visit might’ve been unexpected. Or maybe Toby had told both of them and they’d been too busy to listen? He could believe that of himself more than so Wendy, who had a surprisingly good memory. At least compared to him, who was hard pressed to remember what he’d had for lunch the day before. Or what day of the week it was. Or what he’d been doing five seconds before, when things got really crazy.

Wirt just nodded. “Yeah. She came to help with costumes for Toby’s play. Do you know when it is?”

Wendy raised her eyebrows. “Since when was Toby in a play?”

“He’s in drama….” Wirt didn’t add isn’t he? but he was pretty sure Wendy knew it was there.

“Uh huh.” Wendy sounded like she didn’t believe it, but what other explanation was there? If it was cosplay, Wirt definitely wasn’t familiar with the source material, and he couldn’t think of what else it could be. No one went around in a getup like that just for the heck of it. And it’s not like Toby would think he needed to lie about making a cosplay for something. He already knew Wirt thought he was weird and didn’t judge him for it. He thought that was funny.

For that matter, so did Wendy and Jazz.

It was one of the reasons Wirt was so convinced they were involved in some giant conspiracy to troll him. Because they’d kill themselves laughing over it. They’d find it hilarious, and they knew he’d be laughing in the end, too. Assuming he got to the end of whatever this was.

And assuming he could find Danny.

Seriously, how he could have lost Danny?

Maybe he was in on all of this, too. Maybe—

“Earth to Wirt,” Wendy said, waving a hand in front of his face. “Did you hear me?”

“Um…no? Sorry.”

“I wanted to know if Toby’s talked to you yet.”

“About what?” It couldn’t be the play if Wendy hadn’t heard of it.

Wendy rolled her eyes. “Please tell me you’re just playing being clueless or you will die if we reach an apocalyptic situation.”

“Uh…pretend I was living under a rock and fill me in?”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Wendy muttered. Louder, “Something’s up. You know that, right?”

Was she finally admitting that they were playing a massive prank on him? Good. It had taken long enough. Wirt nodded, and Wendy relaxed. “Great. Then you’ll understand why I’m absolutely certain that Toby’s not actually in drama?”

Or not.

“Uh….”

“Seriously, this isn’t a game. College might not kill you, but there’s stuff out there that will if you’re not careful.”

The hatchet in his dorm room could technically kill him, but Wirt was pretty sure Wendy would just dismiss that if he brought it up. Or nag him about his nonexistent self-defence skills, since he hadn’t signed up for a class despite her not-so-subtle suggestions.

Wirt glanced around, but no one was close enough to overhear their conversation. That was probably Wendy’s plan. He met her eyes again, seeing no trace of a smile behind them. “You’re my friend,” she said, “and I don’t want to lose you.”

She might lose him as a friend if she kept on like this. He could only be expected to put up with so much, right? If she really believed this, maybe she needed to talk to someone. Someone who could actually help her. Which wouldn’t be him. He had zero training in that area. He’d think Jazz would be ideal if she weren’t encouraging this. Whatever this was.

“Okay, look,” Wirt said, trying to get a handle on this situation again, “if you want to be serious for a moment, why don’t you just tell me why you’re so wrapped up in all of this? Why you think I’m wrapped up in all of this?”

Anger and hurt flashed across Wendy’s face before she schooled her expression again, and Wirt knew she felt that was uncalled for. “Because I’m not stupid,” she said, her tone carefully even, “and because this isn’t my first rodeo. And because whatever you want to pretend, that Unknown of yours isn’t just a story. You wouldn’t care about all of this so much if it were, and I don’t need Jazz to tell me that.”

“You’re back on that again?”

Wendy frowned. “Fine. Keep pretending. But you can’t ignore the truth forever, Wirt. You have to know that. And even if you think it’s just to humour me, it’d be nice if you played along and prepared yourself for the day you can’t.” She pulled a small notepad out of her pocket and held it out. “Dipper transcribed some relevant spells. At least take a look at them before you throw it out.”

Wirt knew better than to ask if she was kidding. He pocketed the notepad without looking at it, and Wendy turned away without saying goodbye. He felt like a fool, but what was he supposed to do with that? If she was delusional, telling her the Unknown was real wasn’t going to help matters.

And if she wasn’t delusional….

He didn’t want to think about what it would mean if she wasn’t delusional.

He didn’t want to think that there might be more out there than what he’d faced in the Unknown, that that experience hadn’t been a fluke, that finding out Jazz had grown up hunting ghosts wasn’t going to be the strangest thing he discovered about his friends.

He didn’t want to lose the control he’d have if it turned out the Unknown was only a tiny piece in everything that was unknown.

And now he felt horrible for what he’d done to Wendy.

Sighing, Wirt pulled out his phone and dialled Toby’s number. If he could at least find out more about this play while he looked for Danny, it would prove that the world wasn’t going crazy.

XXXXXX

Toby didn’t answer.

Wirt actually walked into the drama building, poking his head into any room that didn’t have an ongoing class, and found nothing. He even tried looking around education, in case the rehearsals were in that building instead, and he couldn’t find so much as a poster advertising a play—or at least not one that would require fanciful armour.

Danny, of course, never turned up anywhere.

Wirt circled back and checked the food court, thinking Danny had probably found it and bought himself a snack, but no matter how he scanned the shifting crowd of people, he couldn’t convince himself that Danny was there.

Why hadn’t Jazz given him Danny’s number? That would have made finding him so much easier. He should have asked for it, but it hadn’t occurred to him that they’d get separated when he’d been asked to spend time with Danny.

Maybe this was just one of Danny’s practical jokes. Jazz had said he was a joker. Wirt couldn’t really think of any other way to explain his vanishing act.

Although, considering where he had disappeared from, Wirt wasn’t sure even being some kind of magician-in-training would explain Danny’s disappearance. It’s not like he happened to be in the one dorm room that had a secret passage hidden somewhere in the bathroom. There was no trick to it. And he couldn’t imagine how Danny had gotten past him, even though he must have.

Wirt couldn’t remember which building Jazz’s psych class was in, so he couldn’t see if Danny had gone to meet her there. Not that that would help him much, since Danny and Jazz would probably be long gone if they had met up, but he was getting desperate, and Jazz hadn’t texted him to ask why he’d ditched Danny—or whatever story Danny might’ve told her about what happened. He did check his dorm room one more time—in the vain hope that Danny would be hiding in there, maybe sitting on his bed with a big grin on his face, waiting for Wirt to come back and realize Danny had never left—and then went to Jazz’s. He rang the buzzer.

“Yes?”

Wendy. “Um, it’s me.”

“Danny’s not here, Wirt. Neither is Jazz. Do you still want to come up?”

“Uh, no, thanks.” He wasn’t ready to face her yet. He figured he’d read whatever Dipper counted as spells before talking to her again. Granted, knowing Wendy, she’d just do a phenomenal job of pretending the conversation had never happened, and he’d feel like even more of a fool.

“Good luck with the search, then.”

Now he really felt like an idiot. Wirt headed back to campus, not even sure where he should look next.

He walked through the food court again, standing on his tiptoes in the hopes of spying Danny among the shifting crowd of students, and eventually gave up. He checked his watch again, his stomach churning as he realized he’d been running around for over an hour. He should just phone Jazz and tell her to phone Danny and find out where he was. He could swing by and pick him up and then meet her. And then be done with this.

Of course, that would mean admitting he’d managed to lose her brother in the first place.

Hopefully, she’d just chalk this up to Danny’s love of practical jokes.

After more dithering, Wirt finally made the call. Jazz picked up on the second ring. “Hello?”

“Jazz, um, I’m calling instead of texting because this is kinda an emergency? I might’ve, uh, lost your brother, and I don’t—”

She let out a sigh. “Don’t worry about it, Wirt. I’ll text him my location and he’ll find me. He has a bad habit of disappearing sometimes. And if he pulled this on you…. We should really talk. Meet me at the library.”

She hung up without waiting for an answer, not clarifying which library, but that was fine, because Wirt knew exactly which one she meant. And he didn’t plan to blow her off after what he’d done. Should he be flattered her brother felt it appropriate to pull a disappearing act on him? Did he only do it with family friends? She’d sounded exasperated enough that it really couldn’t be uncommon, but….

Jazz was at her favourite table in the library when Wirt arrived, the one off in one corner and half-hidden behind the shelves to the point that was hard to find if you didn’t know it was there. He slid into the chair opposite her, and she frowned at him as her eyes flicked over him. “Do you remember everything that happened? Can you tell me?”

That was…an odd first question. But this was Jazz, and she asked weird questions. And if Wirt tried to figure out why, he’d somehow wind up in a deeper hole than whichever one he was going to dig for himself anyway, so he decided to just go with it. “Yeah? We were in my dorm room. Surprised Toby and Claire— Did you know that she was in town? Or that he’s in a play?”

“My question first, please.”

Wirt blinked. “Um, right. Well, we surprised them, I guess. Toby must’ve cut class because Claire was in town to help him with costuming, and then they went to show everyone else in the group. And then Danny, uh, said he had to use the bathroom, except he didn’t come back out, and when I finally checked it, it was empty.”

Jazz rolled her eyes. “Of course it was,” she muttered. “Because that’s not at all suspicious.”

“Um.” She thought it was suspicious, too? What did that mean? “I, uh, never saw him leave, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t sneak by me. I mean. He must’ve. Because he wasn’t in there. And it’s not like he could go anywhere else from the bathroom.”

Jazz just nodded. “Well, I didn’t know Claire was in town, or that Toby was claiming to be in a play, but I suppose I should’ve guessed it earlier.”

“That he’s secretly a drama nut and didn’t want any of us to know?”

“No. That he might be the one I need to worry about more than you.”

Wirt raised his eyebrows. He knew Jazz was a worrywart, but that was ridiculous. “Are you kidding? He’s at least passing Wendy’s weird apocalypse classes with flying colours.”

“Which is what should’ve been my first clue.”

“Clue to what?”

“That he’s involved in something.” The answer came from behind Wirt, and he jumped. He caught a fleeting look of Jazz’s thoroughly unsurprised face as he twisted to look at Danny. How long had he been standing there? “Jazz, uh, we should talk. Not here.”

“It might have to be here, Danny. Wirt’s Toby’s roommate.”

“Uh….” Chances were Danny was right and he didn’t actually need to be here for whatever the impending conversation was going to be. Chances were—

“Yeah, but does he even believe in ghosts?”

—it would just make him feel like the only sane person in the entire world. Which he knew was an exaggeration. It just felt like an appropriate exaggeration.

“What does that have to do with anything?” Wirt burst out. Seriously, was Danny as crazy as Jazz? Okay, he probably was, but still. This obsession with ghosts was weird, even considering their parents studied it. And it’s not like Toby was involved with drugs or something bad. It was just a drama club or something like that. Wirt was planning on going to see the play, whenever it was, once he got the date and time and place out of Toby. To support his roommate.

He was really thinking he shouldn’t ask Jazz to join him. Maybe not even Wendy.

“Shh. Library, remember?” Jazz said as Danny sat down next to Wirt.

“I hate this,” Wirt muttered. He didn’t mean it, but was it too much to ask to have a couple of normal friends? He had a few acquaintances from various classes, but no one he hung out with beyond Toby and Wendy and now Jazz.

…Greg was right. He really needed to get out more. He got stuck in his own little world too often to make friends easily, and he didn’t want to think what it said about him if the only people you were friends with tended to be remotely like-minded. Becoming friends with Toby had been inevitable, and it was through his association with Toby that he’d wound up friends with Wendy and Jazz—almost without realizing it.

Except that Wendy really hadn’t given him a choice in the matter.

And he was pretty sure he still counted it as friendship now even if their first few interactions had seemed more like he’d been coerced into it.

“That’s a no, isn’t it?” Danny asked, looking between Wirt and Jazz. He rolled his eyes and turned back to his sister. “Why do you, of all people, think this is a good idea? You were pretty much skeptic of the year when we were growing up until I, uh, until Phantom started showing up regularly.”

Jazz just crossed her arms and stared at her brother.

Wirt didn’t know what that meant, but obviously Danny did. “C’mon, Jazz. He’s not overshadowed. I checked. I don’t think he’s…involved.”

Involved? In what? And what did Danny mean by overshadowed? How the heck did he check for that, whatever it was? When did he check for that?

“And Toby?”

Jazz should not be treating this like a normal conversation. It was not a normal conversation.

Danny shook his head. “Not a ghost thing. The hammer, the armour, whatever it is. That’s…something else.”

“I’ll have to check with Wendy and see if she knows anything about it,” Jazz murmured. Wirt decided against telling her that Wendy also said she hadn’t known anything about a play. Mostly because he didn’t want her to phone and invite Wendy to this conversation when it would mean explaining everything to Jazz about how he’d acted and she’d psychoanalyze him or something. As if this weren’t bad enough.

“But the girl—Claire, I guess—has a staff. Not like Freakshow’s, so don’t panic, okay?”

Wirt didn’t want to ask. Well, he did, but he had a feeling he wouldn’t like the answer, so he thought it best to keep his mouth shut. Why would Danny panic about the prop Claire had been holding for Toby’s play? It was just a prop. And he didn’t even know them.

“I caught her using it. It makes portals, Jazz. Into or through the Ghost Zone. I didn’t follow them because I wasn’t sure I’d make it back and I still can’t do that, but….” Danny shrugged. “I could check with Frostbite and Clockwork. Frostbite might have heard of it. Clockwork would know, but he might not tell me.”

“Check with Dora, too, if Frostbite doesn’t know anything.”

Fine, now Wirt was tempted to ask. “What you mean by portals?” Jazz had told him about the Ghost Zone, but a staff that was capable of making portals to the afterlife or whatever didn’t make sense.

Of course, neither did the fact that an entire town had wound up there.

Wirt really wished that had been a joke newspaper, but—

“Doorways,” Danny said flatly. “Holes in the fabric of reality. Exactly what you’re picturing.”

He shouldn’t have asked.

“Um, why do you think the staff does that, exactly?”

Danny stared at him. “What part of ‘I caught her using it’ did you not understand? I saw it with my own eyes. She’s either skipping into the Ghost Zone whenever she wants—risking Walker’s wrath and whoever else’s—or she’s taking a shortcut through it somehow, like a condensed version of the Infi-Map that she can actually control.”

Okay, he was going to pretend this conversation wasn’t completely insane. “How do you know it’s connected to the Ghost Zone?”

He expected one of them to say something along the lines of ‘what other dimensions do you know?’ or something that would make it very clear that they figured the Ghost Zone was it. Instead, Danny said, “I just know.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“I can feel it, okay?”

He could—? “That’s even less of an answer!”

“No, it’s not, and keep your voice down. I am not about to be kicked out of my favourite library.” Wirt groaned but held his tongue as Jazz asked, “You’re sure it’s the staff and not something else?”

Danny nodded as if that were the most normal question in the world. “I don’t know how she got her hands on it, but yeah. If I can get some of Mom and Dad’s tech to Tuck, he might even be able to make something that’ll pick up on where she’s been using it. We could figure this out that way.”

Right. So now Danny and Jazz were completely convinced that Toby’s friend Claire was some dimension hopper. Like it was normal for people to jump through dimensions.

This definitely explained why all his friends kept bringing up the Unknown. They really didn’t think it was just a story. But he’d sound like an idiot if he changed his story now, right? He could at least wait until they brought it up again. He didn’t have to volunteer this information right away. Especially not when Jazz’s brother was around—because even if he would clearly believe it, he didn’t need to know everything.

“How did you get past me in the dorm?” Wirt asked.

For once, Danny looked uncomfortable. He rubbed the back of his neck and slouched. “I just sneaked out when you weren’t looking,” he mumbled.

“I was still standing in the hallway when you went into the bathroom,” Wirt said, “and then I went into the room and closed the door and you weren’t….”

“I’m…good at illusions?”

It wasn’t even a good lie.

“I ducked around you when you weren’t looking. I used to do it to Jazz all the time before she left for college. It’s not a big deal.”

Wirt expected Jazz to chime in with support, but she didn’t.

He swallowed and looked at her. “The truth’s gonna sound like a story, isn’t it?”

“A story for another time,” she said by way of agreement.

He would’ve preferred silence. What the heck was really going on here? What was Toby involved in? What was Danny not saying? If the Ghost Zone and the Unknown were somehow connected, and he definitely didn’t know if they were, and if Claire and Toby could access it, why would they need armour? The Unknown might’ve had one room schoolhouses and paddle steamers and stuff, but it wasn’t so far off their own time that anyone required medieval armour.

Not that Wirt actually knew if it was supposed to be medieval armour.

Not that he was completely abandoning the idea that Toby was really in a play, either. Because he certainly could be. That would make so much more sense than all of this. He couldn’t believe he was going along with this. He shouldn’t be. And yet even Wendy had said—

Something’s up. You know that, right? This isn’t a game.

You can’t ignore the truth forever.

“I don’t know if Wendy knows anything about Toby and Claire,” Wirt said slowly, “but she definitely knows something.”

This time, Jazz read something in Danny’s expression that Wirt missed and shook her head. “She’s not overshadowed. I’m confident in that much or I would’ve had you check her out, too.”

Wait.

Wirt pointed at Danny. “Is that why you wanted me to babysit him?”

“You weren’t babysitting,” Jazz said at the same time Danny exclaimed, “I don’t need a babysitter!”

“So you’re not denying that the entire reason you wanted me to hang out with him all day was so he could check me out for whatever this overshadowing thing is?”

“Wirt—”

“What did you even do?”

“Library,” Jazz hissed, and Wirt rolled his eyes.

“Just tell me the truth! Then I’ll be quiet.”

“You want the truth?” Danny asked. “When you aren’t even telling them the truth?”

“Seriously? Is there anyone you haven’t told about that stupid assignment?”

Jazz narrowed her eyes. “Yet you’re the one who keeps mentioning it, Wirt. Not me.”

Right. He’d walked into that, hadn’t he? Fine. “You want to pretend it’s not just an assignment? Then let’s pretend it’s not just assignment. Let’s pretend it’s real. I went to the Unknown with my brother. It’s another dimension. I faced demons and made friends and nearly died trying to get home. Your turn.”

Jazz’s expression didn’t change. Danny looked around, maybe to see if anyone was looking their way after his earlier outburst. Jazz’s favourite little nook was fairly secluded, but there were tables nearby, equally as hidden, and the seclusion was more artificial than anything else. Still, apparently they hadn’t disturbed anyone, since Danny was grinning when he faced Wirt again. “I’m the tragic victim of a lab accident,” he said. “Safety wasn’t exactly our parents’ highest priority, but like I said, it was an accident.”

Wirt raised his eyebrows. “So?”

“So that’s how I got past you earlier. And that’s how come I know you’re not overshadowed. And that Claire’s staff has ties to the Ghost Zone.”

Wirt glanced at Jazz, but her face betrayed nothing. Danny was a lot easier to read. He was having fun with this. There was a definite note of sarcasm in his tone. But he also looked perfectly sincere, even though Wirt had no idea how a lab accident was supposed to explain all that. “So you, what, burned yourself on a Bunsen burner? Accidentally smashed a couple of test tubes of chemicals and stepped on the glass? And that made you the annoying prankster you clearly are?” He could think of several more choice words to call Jazz’s brother, but it was safer to stick with Jazz’s words. If Toby really was wrapped up in something, Wirt didn’t intend to burn all his bridges before he could help his friend.

Jazz snorted.

Danny’s grin widened. “Not exactly,” he said.

And then he disappeared.

He just…disappeared.

Wirt was staring at him, and then he was just gone. He didn’t move. There was no distraction to catch Wirt’s attention while he ducked under the table or hid somewhere in the stacks. He was just there. And then he wasn’t. And this was a bloody library; it didn’t have mirrors or whatever else would’ve been needed to make an illusion. And Danny had pulled out the chair to sit down, so it wasn’t some kind of high-tech hologram, and—

“I’ll call Wendy,” Jazz said, “and warn her that we’re going to reconvene at our place. You can think of exactly what you’re going to say as we walk over.”

-|-

(see more fics | next)

[thewebcomicsreview]

hussie said a thing abt the epilogues reddit. com/r/homestuck/comments/cuywff/the_homestuck_epilogues_bridges_and_offramps_new/

I also think many of the negative feelings the story creates isn’t just an urgent prompt for the reader to imagine different ideas, or ways to resolve the new narrative dilemmas. It’s also an opportunity for people to discuss any of the difficult content critically, and for fandom in general to continue developing the tools for processing the negative emotions art can generate. Sorting that out has to be a communal experience, and it’s an important part of the cycle between creating and criticizing art. I think not only can creators develop their skills to create better things by practicing and taking certain risks, fandom is something which can develop better skills as well. Skills like critical discussion, dealing constructively with negative feelings resulting from the media they consume, interacting with each other in more meaningful ways, and trying to understand different points of view outside of the factions within fandom that can become very hardened over time. Fandoms everywhere tend to get bad reputations for various reasons, maybe justifiably. But I don’t see why it can’t be an objective to try to improve fandom, just as creators can improve their work. And I think this can only happen if now and then fandoms are seriously challenged, by being encouraged to think about complex ideas, and made to feel difficult emotions. I believe when art creates certain kinds of negative feelings in people, it can lead to some of the most transformative experiences art has to offer. But it helps to be receptive to this idea for these experiences to have a positive net effect on your life, and your relationship with art.

Christ, he’s gone full Lennon. Imagine a good ending. I wonder if you can.

So, I’ve mentioned this a few times, but the most transformative art has ever been for me was a comic that actually started on the Homestuck forums

Prequel - Or - Making The Cat Cry: The Adventure - is a comic written by Kazared loosely based on the Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion. It’s about a Khajiit girl named Katia who moves to OblivionLand to make a new life for herself, and the comic spent years building Katia up to bigger and bigger heights so that every time she crashed she crashed harder than ever before. The second time she relapses into alcoholism is where a lot of readers give up on the comic for being misery porn.

There’s a point where she she’s solved all her problems and even gets to join the mages guild - her lifelong dream - only for the woman running the Kvatch mage guild to mild control her into giving up all her stuff, including the stuff important to Katia’s only friend.  Katia is left naked on the streets literally digging through trash in the vain hope of trying to find a solution to at least one of her problems. And what she finds is a bottle of beer.

Twice already in this comic Katia hit a really bad patch and started drinking again. The comic has twice made us root for Katia to succeed, only to jump cut to her waking up in a stranger’s bed with no memory of what happened. 

She wanders into an empty church (OBVIOUS SYMBOLISM ALERT), and alternates between trying to find some supplies and fantasizing about everything magically getting fixed, which slowly morphs into fantasizing about drinking while getting increasingly furious at barrels for not having clothes in them.

One thing. You wanted one thing and you were too much of a fucking idiot to realize it was hopeless and pointless and bound to ruin everything. Stuck on some childish idea that you could be anything, do anything, and just be some selfish bitch that’s never happy with what she has. Fuck, you don’t even know what you’re mad at anymore, you just hate yourself and everything you ever ruined for yourself and everyone and want to stop thinking about what a worthless mindless thoughtless imbecile you are. You just want to stop fucking thinking about it.

You drop onto the chapel floor and just cry. You cry and cry because you’re stupid and easy and can’t fix anything no matter how hard you try. You cry because your best is worse than everyone else’s average. You cry because your parents never loved you and you’re a disappointment to everyone, even yourself. You cry because all you wanted was to be someone and that’s never going to happen. And when that’s done, you cry a little more because you’re ashamed of being such a crybaby.

You try to get all the emotions out, try to clear your mind and maybe, just maybe feel ready to tackle the night ahead of you, feel as though this is the time you finally turn things around. But no matter how hard you try, how hard you weep and bawl and try to get it all out, you’re still just a fuckup. No matter what you try, that knowledge is still there, gripping onto your every thought and reminding you that things are never going to change.

You’re not strong. You’re not a hero. You’re not even worthy of the name Katia Managan. You’re sad and angry and nothing makes sense, but you know this is probably the clearest your head is going to get.

Someday, things are going to get better. Someday, you are going to fight and persevere and everything will feel great. You think.But for now, you know what you have to do.

And at the very least, there is no way you could possibly make yourself feel any worse.

Katia, for the first time, manages to avoid drowning drinking. She overcomes her issues. And you know what happens next?

She accidentally sets the church on fire, because this is still Prequel. She passes out from smoke inhalation, and then there’s….

this, and then she wakes up and reflects on her managing to stay on the wagon.

Honestly, you just feel… kind of numb.

You fucked up. You lost everything you earned, were discarded by the people you looked up to most, gave away the package you were supposed to be delivering to pay your friend back, completely lost control of your powers, and after passing out naked in a church have probably ruined any chance you might have had at a good reputation in Kvatch. You were a wreck last night when this was all happening, but now… you guess it just feels like you’ve run out of sad. You’re just confused.

Personally, I think this stuff is way darker than anything that happens in the Homestuck Epilogues, which is mostly just over-the-top Warhammer 40k grimderp. This shit got to me, man. And around the time this is happening in the comic, I lost my job. And as the storyline continued past this point, I kept applying for jobs and getting turned down, and it started to really wear on me, I felt I had no useful skills, since my old job was supporting software that only that company used because they made it. Much like Katia got into great positions only to fail, I walked out of interviews thinking I’d aced it only to get turned down, while Katia kept making two-steps-forward-one-step-back advances and not really getting any closer to solving any of her issues. And one day, about six weeks into joblessless and starting to get into serious depression over it, I got two “Thanks but no thanks” calls from places I was feeling good about back to back, and I was just done. 10am and I was going to go into my room and lie down on the floor all day but first Prequel updated so I guess I’ll check it real quick oh hey a flash

This puzzle took me like 20 tries, I’m no good at them. Aggy ran out of inspiring dialogue and started looping. And if you’re not in the right mindset, in the right place, this probably doesn’t seem like much. But right there, a month and a half into unemployment, doing that stupid fucking jumping jumpy peg thing while a ghost cheered me on was life-changing. I was so fucking jazzed when I got it, I was fired up! I was so fired up I tabled my “lie on the floor all day in despair” plan, and started applying for a bunch of jobs. A few of those jobs called me back. One hired me. I still work there now. I always liked webcomics but Aggy Extrapolate is the reason I make them. Because good art is powerful. Good art changes lives, maybe even saves them. And it doesn’t need to be happy to do it, Katia still hasn’t succeeded at her goals (in part because Prequel updates at a rate Dresden Codak would make fun of).

What the hell did the Homestuck Epilogues do, by comparison? What’s the positive net effect on my life, or my interaction with art? “Sometimes things you like are bad”? Shit, man, I already knew that, I’m into wrestling. How is “John recognizes Terezi’s jizz on his dad’s car” supposed to make me a better person, exactly? Do you really think the problem with fandoms is that they’re not angry enough? Are you high, Andrew Hussie? 

[weaselle]

Reverse-Zuko

@animefreaksfall-in asked me to elaborate on what I meant when I said Darth Vader deserved a reverse-Zuko (but that post is inaccessible to me now because tumblr is really a website, and anyway, it was already long and I don’t need to derail an ATLA post with Star Wars ramblings) so here we go 

First of all, the Zuko redemption arc is one of the best written, most satisfying, perfectly crafted character arcs ever, and if you don’t acknowledge that, you should probably scroll on by.

Next if you haven’t seen me post about it, I swore off Star Wars completely after the prequels hit theaters because I was so upset by them. Finally let go (barely) enough to start watching some again this year. The reason I was upset by the prequels had nothing to do with the CGI, I didn’t have any reaction to Jar-Jar, nothing like that... the reason those movies back-stabbed me deep in my soul was all about Vader.

I’m sure we can all agree that Vader is one of THE most iconic villains of the 20th century. But I’m not sure if everyone has an appreciation of what it was like to be in it from the beginning. Like, I managed to see the original Return of the Jedi in theaters the first week it was released. Those movies had a huge impact on, gods, on sci-fi and movies and wow just everything. Intense and large fandom, immediately, of course.

And here’s the important thing. Not only did we instantly want more, not only did the Vader/Skywalker reveal at the end of Return of the Jedi feel like a cliffhanger and leave us with so many questions, but, there was The Rumor.

The Rumor was widespread from the very beginning and said that, in the name of world building, Lucas had actually outlined the story for three movies that came before the ones we’d seen. That explained the rich universe, depth of story and the titles starting with Episode IV, but also, we wanted to see those movies.

With clenched fists and furrowed brows we wished for him to make them, and one of the main reasons was Vader. The reveal had been like a punch in the gut, a mind fuck that left us breathless, we craved the incredible story it implied -- how could he have gone from best jedi in a time when jedi were plentiful to the last jedi and one of the strongest baddest (but still redeemable) characters in the whole universe? We needed that story, we craved that story, we yearned for it.

For SIXTEEN long years we yearned. Nearly every interview or star wars related appearance George Lucas did he was asked if he would make those movies, and he always said no, and we always said to ourselves, maybe if we wish harder, maybe if we want it even more.

Finally, finally, it happened. It was like a gift from the heavens. (Just so happened they hit theaters within a day of my birthday each year too, so gift indeed).

But what was this!? What unholy fuckery was spilled on the screen like so much spoiled milk? The great rise and fall of possibly the most important villain of the last 100 years reduced to what? A whiny teenager in a dumb soap opera with a criminally neglected character arc.

“hey whiny teenager, wanna join the dark side?” no.

“what if I make you question one (1) thing?” maybe. 

“and if you suffer one (1) tragedy?” yeah fine, I’ma murder children now

bonus: the jedi are inexplicably 2 dimensional and the answer to how he winds up in the iconic suit is super dumb. Happy fucking birthday. I mean, there were some cool action scenes, but jfc what a crime against story telling.

As much as I’ve tried to talk about this before, I could never express what should have happened, but then that post about Zuko let me have an easy way to say it.

The prequels should have been, for Vader, like a redemption arc done backwards through time.

He ends Return of the Jedi basically where Zuko starts off: the antagonist agent of the Evil Oppressors, but one that we see as redeemable. Anakin’s story should have shown him starting off as a hero we love, and led him agonizingly toward that point, the way Zuko starts at that point and moves agonizingly toward lovable hero.

Zuko’s arc properly shows his struggle, how hard it is for him to break with his old life, how difficult it is for him to redefine who he is and what he stands for, how he second guesses himself and ties himself in knots over it, how he moves toward, then away, then toward that other version of himself.

Three seasons like three movies, and Zuko is constantly fighting an inner battle, made all the more difficult by the conflicting influences of his uncle, mother, father, sister, and the people he meets. Sure he still manages love interests and flirting, awesome action scenes, and humorous moments, but his arc is so agonizing and visceral. It’s incredibly done.

By contrast, Anakin’s story arc is flat, cheap, poorly executed, neglected. We don’t feel his struggle, we’re barely handed a simple reason.  He’s just like, I’m whiny! And something Bad happened to me! I’m full evil now!

I’m upset again just thinking about it. Anyway

Darth Vader deserved Zuko’s character arc done backwards, he deserved a Reverse Zuko. WE deserved a reverse Zuko. We were robbed, and we know the kind of character development and story telling we craved is possible, because Zuko is right there.

[lowkeysebastianstan]

hey there. I totally get your frustration with endgame and the ending. I wasn't happy and I'm not happy how half the fandom tells me/us how we have to look at it. how we have to accept it. how the actors are happy with it and so should we. how the writers/producers - okay, I'm gonna leave them out of this seeing neither of them have any idea what they have done in the first place. after all they disagree on everything in every interview since the release. and isn't that funny? (1/?)

how even they are not on one side with the movie? what I despise most right now when it comes to this movie and this fandom is how we are treated. how we should tag our “hate” - which I think is funny since I didn’t hate the movie entirely. I hated pieces of it, like I did with past movies. I never liked doctor strange and even back then people were allowed to mention how casting cumberbatch for the part wasn’t the smartest idea they had. (2/?)

people want us to be happy with an ending that doesn’t make sense to us and they appreciate and are “allowed” to shove down our throats with their happy posts about a perfect ending. how is taking tony’s life after he finally married pepper and got a daughter is perfect? how is sending steve back to peggy after they did everything in their power to convince us he moved on from his past life…how is that perfect? (3/?)

you can probably tell I’m bitter. I really am. there’s not a day that goes by I’m not frustrated with what we got after ten years and 22 movies. however, I thought to myself what would it give me to cling on to this on my blog. would it change anything? I do know I’m not alone. I see so many people agreeing with this anger and it gives me some sort of peace. at the end of the day, though, it’s also important to see what it gives to you. (4/?)

talking to one of my closest friends about it and voicing my frustration with the end helps me more than keep posting about it. because in the end it won’t change a thing. the longer I surround myself with the frustration and anger and everything that comes with this not being what I had hoped for the more it pushes me from the fandom. of course everyone do as they please and I get people who want to get it out of their system. (5/?)

but maybe sitting down and look at what the constant repeating will give you in the end, realizing where it might end, could help finding some kind of peace for you. I’d hope for you to enjoy the parts of the fandom that still apply to you. I really like your blog and you as a person and I’d hate to see one of my fave people on this site to leave (I lost count, but this is the last)

whew! hi right back, that was quite something. 

i feel ive answered this ask before, was that also you?

i mean, yeah. i know im not alone, i do. i see some of it on my dash, but not a lot, since ive had to block every marvel related tag just to keep from indulging in some light murder (just gentle ones, not to worry), and i really cannot fathom why ppl on the other side of the isle can’t do the same? or if you’re getting tired of the negativity? blacklist. or unfollow, block even. 

as ive said a few times lately, ive been here 6 years. and this is the first time ive aired my frustration in any noticeable way. sure there’s been a few occasions where i got the salt shaker out, but that was in relation to much more limited subjects, and it was a post or two at the most. 

ive been frustrated with previous movies too, but ive kept my trap shut, ive just gone on, kept my queue stocked, giffed the rare set and hid behind pretty solid content, no drama, not personality, no engagement. 

and it’s not too bad, to just be anonymous, to look at the pretty, spread the pretty, do the occasional tag rant, and let that be it. 

but.

when i came back after a long hiatus last autumn i started writing again. i posted a psa where i apologised for the fact that i would reblog my writing on this blog, i informed what tags i was gonna use, and for the first time i actually checked my follower count before and after. i lost 20 followers the first day. for posting writing. my writing. that was tagged to a ridiculous degree. and i saw a fair few more disappear before the exodus, and idk. i made me realise a thing or two.

one, people like my blog and the content i post

two, they’re only here for that content

three, to have a strictly themed blog will limit you horribly

four, my followers in general don’t give a shit about me, only about the content i post, which fair enough

five, i care about that, even if i don’t care about the follower count as such, i do care that the ones i have actually like me

six, which is completely absurd bc none of them knows me at all, i never show myself

but that was then. this is now. and the last weeks has made me realise the most important thing of all, i dont care any more. why the fuck should i? when my showing any kind of negativity about something that i did care a whole lot about but i no longer have?

endgame might have killed all my enthusiasm for the mcu, and it fucking hurts. it’s been a staple in my life for years, ive invested my time, my creativity, my love and my goddamn money, and ive got jack shit to show for it. i have a blog that i used to love, but is becoming alien to me, and that hurts too. ive invested a lot in this blog too, after i deleted a few of my other blogs a couple of years back, this is by far my biggest one. and im torn tbh. 

do i want to leave it? no, i don’t. can i go back? honestly? i doubt it. if my love for the mcu is gone, well so is bucky. and lets be real, a sebastian stan blog with no bucky? i cannot really see it, can you?

but hey. ill make you a deal, all of you. ill ease up on the memes, i won’t stop bc i have a few scheduled, you guys blacklist or unfollow if you dont want to see them, and ill see about sprinkling in some sebastian content if i can find any i deem worth it. 

also i don’t have any close irl friends to air my frustrations with, everyone here loved this crap, and that’s not really the discourse im looking for. but im happy for you, it sounds nice :)

hope you’re having a great day! 

eta: i won’t leave btw. not unless the porn hub thing comes into fruition. just so you know, and if anyone cares. just sayin. 

eta2: also? the fact that i, or we, are complaining and being pissed at the movie, but the opposition are attacking us for doing that? instead of, again, fucking blacklist and leave us the fuck alone? yeah, doesn’t help with the bitter. if y’all are so threatened by our arguments, maybe you should reevaluate your own, seems you’re trying a bit too hard there. i don’t want to take enjoyment from anyone, i envy you too much for that, but ffs, just leave me the fuck alone to deal with it. (that’s not @ you, that’s to them)

eta3: and thank you for saying im someone you like. but see? ive been trolling you all, im terrible. and i expect you don’t like me as much now anyways. but thank you, it was nice to hear nevertheless.

[the-wlw-cafe]

Forget Me (Not)

Request: #62 Memory loss with Lena Luthor preferably the Reader losing their Memory? They were Dating for awhile but got hurt protecting Lena so now she doesn't remember Lena who decides it's best for her not to remember so that the Reader doesn't get hurt again so Reader goes About their normal life but with Lena basically suffering every time she sees them bc she's still in love with them idk Maybe a happy ending if you wanna

Fandom: Supergirl

Warnings: referenced injuries, some language, being Long as feck

Word Count: too many (3265)

You awoke to the sound of hushed voices. You couldn’t make out what they were saying, every noise seemed to drift towards you through a thick layer of jelly, muffled and warbling. You felt like you were floating. It was the smell that finally clued you in that something was off: It smelt sterile, like hand soap and disinfectant, not like the scent of lavender, coffee and freshly washed sheets that you associated with home. You slowly opened your eyes, blinking against the bright white lights that surrounded you. When you tried to move, you noticed an IV drip sticking out of your arm.

Ah. Hospital.

The voices became clearer, two women, arguing.

“Now you’re just being dramatic, Lena, this isn’t your fault!”

“If it weren’t for me, none of this would have happened. Getting close to me is a risk, you know that, and I’ve been selfish enough to ignore it, but I just can’t anymore. I’m making the right decision here.”

“The only thing you’re making is a big mistake Lena, I know how much – (Y/N)!”

It seems they have noticed that you are awake, and the taller of the two, a blond woman whose face splits into the most sunny smile you’ve ever seen once she makes eye contact with you, comes rushing to your bedside. The smaller one, pale, with dark hair framing an impossibly gorgeous face, stands in the back, clearly left distraught by the argument you’d interrupted. You immediately got the overwhelming urge to reach out and comfort her.

“(Y/N), we’ve been so worried about you, but I knew you were a trooper!”

She immediately goes in for a hug that leaves you stiff and awkward. You have no idea who this is, but they clearly know you very well, which can only mean one thing. But that couldn’t be, things like that were reserved for soap operas only, it didn’t happen in real life...right?

The tall blonde seemed to notice you not returning the embrace, pulling back with a frown.

“Is something wrong? Are you hurt? Oh Rao, did I hug you to hard?” she fretted, a worried crinkle appearing between her brows.

“Oh no, the hug was fine, I just...” you make a helpless flailing motion which leaves your IV drip swinging. “I’m sorry, I’m going to be frank, I have no idea who you are.”

The blonde lifted her hands to her mouth to cover a gasp. “But...but you must recognize Lena, right?” she exclaimed, gesturing towards the other woman. Oh this was bad. You hated to see these people hurt and worried.

“Nope, does not ring a bell.” You replied.

“But she’s-“ the blonde began, only to be cut off by the other, Lena.

“- the one whose building was trapped with the bomb that put you on a coma. I needed to make sure you’d recover, and seeing that you’re awake, I’ll go get a doctor for you”, she said curtly, and gave you a small smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. She’d already turned away before she’d finished the sentence. You and the blonde watched her leave the room.

“Is she okay?” you asked.

“Honestly? I don’t know. She’s going through a lot of stuff at the moment.”

  Lena returned with a doctor not long after, and a series of exhausting questions later you were diagnosed with amnesia. When or whether your memory would return nobody could tell, but you were released two days later with the recommendation of trying to go through your day as it came naturally to you, visit familiar places and not stress yourself out too much over remembering. You felt lost and vulnerable in the apartment that was so unfamiliar to you, yet everyone seemed to recognize as yours. Kara, the blonde woman who had dropped by your bedside multiple times to bring you some fried sugary goodness to offset the horror that was the hospital food volunteered to sleep on your couch until you’d find some semblance of normalcy in her life (“No, really, it’s no problem, Alex – my sister – will look after my plants, and I think they’ll thank her for it, I keep drowning them for some reason...”).

  On your first evening at the place you didn’t remember as home, you went through Kara’s phone together, looking at pictures of her, her friends and you together in the hopes that it would stir something, anything inside you.

You scrolled through pictures of you and her friends at bars, at picnics, at game nights, always laughing and smiling, and still these peoples were strangers to you. All of them, except one.

“That’s Lena! From the hospital!”, you exclaimed, just glad that you had found one face that didn’t make you feel like looking through stock photos of a group of handpicked multiracial attractive models.

You furrowed your brow in thought. “That’s weird, though, she didn’t mention us being close.”

Kara smiled a slightly pained smile, said something along the lines of “well, you met her through me, I was interviewing her for CatCo and things just snowballed from there”, before quickly scrolling on. You see her face popping up in some pictures after that one, but you don’t bring it up again.

  In the following days, Kara took the time to re-introduce you to all of her friends, to her sister Alex, Alex’ girlfriend Maggie to Winn and James, she tried to get a hold of Lena but the CEO declined. It didn’t surprise you, being CEO of L-Corp probably didn’t leave her with much free time. The Superfriends did their best to make you feel welcome in their midst, but you still couldn’t quite shake the feeling that you were hanging out with a group of complete strangers, who somehow knew your favourite drinks, your Noonan’s order, and your preferred board games.

  Kara took you to L-Corp a week after you were released from hospital, since it was there you lost your memory, and per chance you ran into Lena. Kara invited her along to grab coffee together, but with one look at you she blanched, pressed out that she was urgently needed in a meeting from between clenched teeth, turned on her heel and walked right into the room she had left seconds before. It was completely empty.

  You started to get the feeling that Lena didn’t like you.

  The following Saturday, you were proven wrong, she didn’t just dislike you, Lena Luthor outright hated you. It was game night, and you had attended out of a sense of obligation and the fact that you started to grow close to the Superfriends – for the second time from their perspective. Lena arrived late, played one token round of Taboo, and then left immediately after, citing a work emergency. The phone she pretended to talk on was clearly switched off.

  Days turned into weeks, and this became a common occurrence, no matter how much Kara and the others conspired to get you two to talk to each other.

By far the worst thing about this situation was however the fact that you seemed to affect Lena’s friendship to Kara too. You caught them, once, arguing in the kitchen at game night after they had gone to get more wine.

  “Lena, she’s suffering, you’re suffering, and this has to stop. You can’t keep running away from this and honestly I’m not sure how much longer I’m willing to lie for you!”

“Kara Danvers, don’t you dare. Don’t you dare destroy everything I’ve done to-“

“-to make both of you miserable? Lena, open your eyes, this isn’t working! (Y/N) has a right to know –“

You couldn’t take it any longer and decided to announce yourself by clearing your throat. The two women whipped around to face you.

“Sorry”, you began, awkwardly scratching your neck as if you hadn’t just caused a rift between these two friends. “The guys are asking for more beer.”

“Oh, we were just...” Kara started, clearly in the early stages of a trademark ramble.

“...just leaving. I was just leaving.” Lena finished, her gaze fixed on some spot behind you. You didn’t manage to contain your scoff in time. “Another work emergency, I gather? Or what’s the excuse you have for us today?” you said. Lena stumbled backwards as if you had hit her, and immediately you regretted your cold words.

“I...good night, (Y/N).” Her voice broke on your name and you swore you could hear her sniffle as she rushed past you. You stared at Kara, unsure of what had just happened in this kitchen, when you felt a second wave of anger wash over you.

“No”, you growled. Kara looked at you, puzzled.

“No, she doesn’t get to do this. She doesn’t get to avoid me for weeks when I needed her the most, when she should have been there for me like all your other friends...my other friends were! She doesn’t get to make me feel bad about calling her out on her bullshit! I don’t know what I did to offend her, I literally can’t remember, but why can’t she just talk it out with me like a goddamn adult?!”

You braced yourself on the kitchen counter as you stared into the dark night outside. Voicing your anger had felt good, it had been a long time coming, but you’d still do anything to get some closure on this whole situation.

“Oh, (Y/N)”, Kara breathed, looking torn. “Lena doesn’t hate you. She...she’s in a difficult spot right now, and she thinks she’s doing the right thing but she’s really, really not...she’s a very headstrong woman.”

“Yes, feel free to tell me whenever you’re ready to stop talking in riddles and feel like making sense”, you snapped.

“Lena made me promise not to tell a word, and I can’t break her trust like that, but I also can’t stand to see you both so miserable.” Your friend heaved a great sigh, and at this moment she looked older than you had ever seen her. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and after some typing, she presented it to you. “Just...take a look.”

She had opened a folder named Top Secret L  and you actually let out a small giggle at that. Subtlety really didn’t seem to be her strongest suit.

The folder was empty except for a series of four photos, obviously taken in quick succession at a park. The first was Kara, taking a selfie, pointing excitedly at some kissing couple on a park bench. Half of you wanted to sit Kara down for a serious talk about privacy and personal space, the other half just smiles because that’s Kara, the same Kara that had called you one evening after having seen an elderly couple feeding ducks at a pond, squealing “true love exists!”. The second photo is another image of the couple, up close this time, and your heart drops into the general vicinity of your stomach when you recognize the lovebirds. That is, without a doubt, Lena Luthor, one hand in your (H/C) hair, the other at the small of your back. The third picture clearly showed your reaction to being busted, Lena hiding her face in your chest and you throwing your head back with laughter. You couldn’t tell whether the blushes on your faces stem from embarrassment at being caught or from the heated kiss you had been sharing. In the fourth and last picture, Alex was photobombing you, pretending to gouge her eyes out with a cocktail umbrella.

You put the phone down, staring blankly at nothing in particular. You hadn’t expected to be able to feel this photo so vividly, not to remember, but to know how Lena’s soft lips felt on yours, how her scent surrounded you, how you were able to feel her pulse racing out of control...

You were longing for something, for Lena, for a feeling you didn’t remember but missed anyway. You looked up at Kara helplessly, seeking guidance, advice, something.

“Were Lena and I...” you croaked, not trusting your voice to get the whole sentence out.

“An item? Yeah. You even tried to keep it secret from us for a time, but we saw right through you. And by ‘we’ I mean Maggie ‘detecting is my job’ Sawyer”, she added with a soft smile.

You leaned against the counter.

“I imagine you two have a lot to talk through”, Kara said gently.

You nodded absent-mindedly, already working through hundreds of reasons why Lena would not want you to find out you had been in a relationship before the bomb and the memory loss debacle.

Kara grabbed you by the shoulders, gently ushering you towards the door. “Come on, I’ll tell the others where you are. You go get your girl.”

  She texted you Lena’s private address as soon as you were out the door. In the lobby of her apartment building, you saw a security guard immediately lumbering towards you. You cursed inwardly. You had no idea what to say. “Yes, apparently I used to be Lena’s girlfriend until a few weeks ago, but don’t ask me anything personal about her or our relationship, as I have conveniently forgotten it all.”

Before you could even begin to delve into a shakily improvised excuse, he broke out into a wide grin.

“Miss (Y/L/N)! I was wondering when I’d see you again here! It’s been too long! You and Miss Luthor didn’t have a falling out, did you?”

“Something like that”, you murmured, still taken aback by his jovial greeting.

“Well, I know it’s none of my business, but Miss Luthor hasn’t been well in the last weeks. I do hope you’ve come to set her straight.”

“Well, that’s the plan, but we’ll see how it goes”, you reply, showing a shy smile.

“Then by all means, don’t let me keep you here any longer, I’ll let you right up!” he said with a goofy thumbs-up gesture.

Lena lived in the penthouse, so you had plenty of time to come up with something to say to her on the elevator ride. You left the elevator without any semblance of a plan. You took one last, deep breath, steeled yourself and knocked on her door.

There were a few seconds of tense silence, and then –

“Who’s there?”

Even through the door you could tell from her hoarse voice that she’d been crying.

“It’s me, (Y/N). We need to talk.”

Nothing.

“Lena Lutessa Luthor, you open that door right now or so help me I’ll get Kara to throw me in through the window!”

For a moment you thought Lena would refuse to let you in, but then you could hear the tell-tale click of the door as she let you step into her apartment. You tried not to let it take your breath away too much, but you still found yourself slightly distracted by the gorgeous view on the golden lights of National City by night.

“I assume Kara told you, then.”

Lena had her back turned to you, obviously trying to hide her tears from view.

“Kara didn’t technically break her promise to you, she just let me connect the dots”, you said.

“So she didn’t tell you that she thinks I’m a coward and a liar?” she snapped, but you could hear the fright in her voice. She was scared and hurt, and therefore lashing out. And again, something inside you ached to take her in your arms, comfort her, and never let her go.

“Lena, you know Kara would never say these things. She loves you.”

Lena made a strangled sound, somewhere between a scoff and a sob. You decided to press on.

“I just need to know why. Why did you try to hide this from me? Were we...were we unhappy? Did that bomb just come incredibly convenient to you, so you didn’t have to break up with me?”

You were getting worked up again, you couldn’t help it. You deserved better than 3 weeks of the silent treatment, especially when as vulnerable and confused as you had been.

“Did Kara tell you what happened the day you got injured?” Lena asked, her voice almost inaudible.

“Yes, there was a bomb at L-Corp and I got caught in the blast-“

“You shouldn’t even have been there! I received the bomb threat several minutes before the explosion. There was enough time to get every civilian out of the building and to safety. There was enough time for you to be far, far away from any danger. And yet you turned around, and you ran right up to my office, because you just had to make sure I was okay. And when there wasn’t any time left anymore, you tried to shield me from the blast. I saw you get thrown against a wall, (Y/N). I saw you lying there, with broken limbs, not moving, and I thought you were dead! I thought I had lost you!”

Lena whipped around to face you, her face red and tearstained, but there was a grim determination gleaming in her eye.

“I thought you had died because of me. Do you understand now, why I have to do this? I loved you, I still do, but I can’t allow you to throw your life away for me. You deserve more. You deserve someone who can love you without endangering you whenever you’re together.”

“I’m not stupid, Lena”, you reply, after a few seconds. “I knew that when I got into the relationship with you. And I still chose you. And I think...I think I would do it again. Kara showed me the pictures of you and me in the park, I’m not sure if you remember-“

“Of course I do”, she sighed. “It was our first official date. You were actually going for a kiss on the cheek, but, well, so was I, and our lips just awkwardly collided for a moment before things...escalated.”

“Yeah”, you chuckled. “I could see the escalation.”

You swore there was a small smile playing around the corners of Lena’s mouth.

“The thing is, Lena, I felt something when I saw us kissing. I might not remember what we had, and maybe I never will, but I still miss it. I miss us. And maybe, in time, we could rebuild all of this.”

Lena’s mouth dropped open.

“Really? Even after how I’ve treated you? Oh God, how I’ve treated you, I’m so sorry, (Y/N), but I was so scared...”

You interrupted her with a raised hand. “You can’t do this to me again, Lena. You can’t just leave me out of the loop. If we are to have a second chance for...well...us, we need you to be able to trust each other completely. I need you to tell me the truth, always, even if it hurts, even if you’re afraid, and you have to trust me when I say I know what I am getting into.”

Lena nodded frantically, under tears, but she was smiling as well. You weren’t surprised to feel your eyes burn as well. And suddenly, you didn’t know who initiated it, maybe it had been a shared impulse, the two of you closed the distance between each other and fell heavily into each others arms, sobbing tears of relief, joy, loss, fear, a bit of everything.

This would take time, you both knew it, and both of you still had wounds that were a long way from healing, but in this moment you refused to let each other go. This was a path you had to take together, after all.

[365daysofsasuhina]

[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day Fifty-One: Good Medicine ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata ] [ SasuHina ] [ Verse: Healing Waters and Scorching Flames ] [ AO3 Link ]

She hasn’t had much opportunity to learn the healing side of waterbending. Though...then again, waterbending as a whole hasn’t exactly been a subject Hinata was steeped in. With the Fire Nation raids capturing and locking way the Southern waterbenders, Hinata had only her mother to teach her...and even then, not for long.

She’d not been one of the many taken prisoner. Hanako had simply been slain where she stood.

As the last left with any hint of bending in her veins, Hinata grew up without a teacher, only able to guess and feel her way through bending. Failures in her experiments meant a lack of confidence, and a yearning to someday make it to the North to find a master to learn from.

Of course, that had been before stumbling across the Avatar alongside her best friend Kiba. That single encounter changed not only her life, but the world.

Suddenly she had a way to leave the South Pole: a method of transport to the North, where she and the Avatar - Naruto - would learn under the remaining masters of waterbending.

Before they could leave, however...trouble found them. Namely the second-in-line prince Sasuke of the Fire Nation.

Their first meeting had her feeling fearful...but also realizing she couldn’t afford to be afraid. This was the Avatar...the world’s last chance for peace. If Hinata wanted to make it to the North - if she wanted Naruto to save the world - she had to put aside her reservations, and do as her mother did: stand up to the Fire Nation.

Needless to say, that first encounter - and the next several over the coming weeks - meant a great feeling of animosity between them: Hinata, and Sasuke. They both sought the same person, but for entirely different reasons.

But as time passed, and their circumstances changed...they could no longer afford to be enemies. Naruto needed to learn firebending. Sasuke had begun to see the error of his ways, thanks to careful guidance from his cousin Shisui: a secret member of the White Lotus.

So, the two groups were suddenly awkwardly pushed together as Sasuke accepted his role as Naruto’s firebending teacher.

But Hinata wasn’t having it.

After all he’d done - to them, to Naruto, to her - she couldn’t trust him. Wouldn’t! No longer was Hinata the meek, scared girl from the South Pole. By then, she’d grown into a young woman of resolve and dedication.

Of them all, it would be Hinata he’d have to convince the most.

It hadn’t been easy...but from a begrudging acceptance of their circumstances, situations arose to drive them together. Bit by bit, acceptance grew...which slowly formed into trust.

Which is why now, with Sasuke injured, Hinata tries to put her limited healing knowledge to the test.

“Just...hold still. I need to concentrate.”

Not arguing, Sasuke sits in a tense, accepting silence. Mild burns litter his left forearm, used to block an attack but partially letting it go astray. The red, puckered skin stings, but doesn’t seem too severe.

Taking clean water from a canteen, Hinata examines the wounds carefully before bringing the element up to the singed tissue. For a moment, it almost seems to burn all over again. But then the liquid glows softly, and relief instantly wilts Sasuke’s shoulders.

“...I’ve never seen waterbending healing before.”

“I’m...very loosely practiced in it. I had some lessons in the North, but...not as much as combat. I’ll do what I can, but...they might scar, and take a w-while to heal.”

“It’s fine...better than I could do.”

That earns him a brief glance before returning to her work.

“...when this is all over, I know a healer you can learn from. If you want.”

“...you do?”

“I…” Shame weighs in the base of Sasuke’s gut. “...when I, er...went to get Naruto, it wasn’t my first trip to the south. A few months before that, I’d gone to another tribe that used to be known for healing, and...took the last bender there. She’s the one serving my brother. Keeping him alive.”

Recognition alights Hinata’s face. “...I see.”

“I’ll be honest, I wasn’t...kind to her. At the time, I was still…” His tone fades to silence, not sure how to explain. “...I was so conflicted then. My brother means everything to me. I was desperate. So...I told her I was holding her village hostage. If anything happened to Itachi, I would…” Another pause, not needing to explain. “...and yet...part of me - a stupid, selfish part of me - had hoped we wouldn’t find one. A healer.”

“...but…?”

Grief and anger darken Sasuke’s face. “...the older I got...the more I realized that, if Itachi were to die...it would make me the next Fire Lord. And now, I...I can’t stand myself for ever having thought that way. But my father, his teachings...they jaded me. It’s like he wanted to pit us against each other. He knew Itachi was weak. Maybe...that’s what he wanted. But I insisted to try the South. To look for a healer.”

For a time, quiet settles over them. “...then...that’s what matters in the end. You overcame those feelings, and you got him help.”

“But I did so in a terrible way!”

“I’m not saying you’re not at fault in that regard. But...you helped your brother, when you could have...well, left him to a worse fate. Maybe someday you can atone to how you treated the other waterbender. And...I would be happy to learn from her.” Hinata glances up, managing a small smile.

“...you’ve come a long way, Sasuke. In my eyes, at least. I’ll admit...I was so wary of you at first. And...I had reason to be. But I also see how you’ve changed. I might have had my doubts, but you proved yourself. I’m sure you can do so with her when the time comes. For now, we each have our own paths. She’ll help your brother, and you’ll help the Avatar.”

Sasuke looks to her with a somber expression before glancing to his wounds. “...and you’ll help me.”

“...we’ll all help each other. Together, we’ll stop your father. The Fire Nation can then be led back into the ways of peace. The w-war will be over. And we can all...go home. Heal. And the world can regain its sense of balance.”

“The work won’t stop with the war,” Sasuke reminds her dryly. “There will be plenty left to do.”

“I know...but we’ll face it together. All of us. Naruto has changed too, you know. He’s not just a wistful child. Now...he’s matured. At least,” she laughs, “somewhat. Part of him, I think, will always be a kid. But we work together well as a team - and we’ll keep doing so after the war, until the world has a better foundation. It’s been stuck in this war for almost a hundred years! There will be a lot to get used to.”

“Hn…”

Another round of silence, and then Hinata checks her work. Scars glisten pink along Sasuke’s arms, but a flex and a prod prove them to be healed. “Well...it’s not p-pretty, but…”

“It’s great. Thanks, Hinata.” The prince affords her a rare smile that she returns.

A kind of tension seems to bloom...before they both glance away.

“I...I-I should see if Naruto has any wounds,” she offers, moving to stand.

“Yeah, I’ll...start working on a fire for the camp.” He watches her go, unable to help a feeling of...frustration. Like he’s missed something. Looking to his arm, fingers gently sweep over the new scar tissue. He’s sure they won’t be the last.

...and maybe he won’t mind a little healing every now and again.

     Well, not as late as last night - woo? lol      More AtLA! I've been really feeling this fandom lately, and it worked well for this prompt, too! I love incorporating some healing with Hinata, given her canon dabbling into it, what with her poultices she's been seen to make! So while she might not be a master, she can at least help Sasuke's wounds a bit.      And he doesn't mind getting a little up close and personal, it seems ;3      Anywho, that's it for today! I'm excited to have crossed the 50 day mark - and soon we'll be at two months! Kinda crazy, honestly...time's really flying. But, either way, thanks for reading!

[signor-signor]

2018 - My contributions to SaveWOY

And so, another year without complete knowledge of Wander Over Yonder’s shelved third season has gone by. Sometimes I compare the show’s current situation to the backstory of Dave, the octopus and main antagonist of the 2014 DreamWorks film, Penguins of Madagascar - you can guess which TV shows represent the penguins in said backstory. Rather than getting revenge on the successful shows or getting back at Disney and the viewers for not showing any affection for WOY, we fans develop our own means to let them know that WOY still means a lot to us. As 2018 draws to a close, let’s look back on the stuff I made to build more awareness of the show to the world since I joined Tumblr. The bolded text has a link.

LEGO Star Nomad - After getting a Volkswagen Beetle and Camper Van LEGO, I was inspired to do something no other Wander fan has ever done before. I started working on it with LEGO Digital Designer in December 27th, 2017, and I got the overall structure done in ten days. I did have to fix it up at least couple of times afterwards, but it’s quite an amazing sight nonetheless.

Lord Hater’s little rant - Made just in time for Keith Ferguson’s birthday, this illustration drew some inspiration from what Tamatoa says after the credits of Moana. It’s also to give the executives and most viewers a subtle note regarding their obsession with Gravity Falls and the effect it has on WOY.

Fan-Made DVD/Blu-Ray covers - Released on May 4th (Star Wars Day), these pieces are patterned after the pictures for the Star Wars trilogy (IV-VI) on VHS. If WOY had a third season, it would be cool to have a perfectly complete set in this format.

WOY S3 Prediction Polls - Much like SaveWOY Thought of the Week (ongoing since June 2017), the polls are exclusive to Twitter. 27 have been made so far, one of which was about the choice for a company that deserves to own the rights to the show (most users voted for Netflix owning the rights).

The First 5 Years - One of my biggest achievements made with Adobe Illustrator to date. With more than 140 faces/figures and a few indicators of the existence of a third season, this image could very well be crown jewel of every fan art I’ve ever done. If this isn’t enough to convince Disney how much I care about the show, I don’t know what is.

Summary of my prediction of the 3rd season premiere - You’d think that with all the hints we’ve accumulated, we’d have someone coming up with an idea of how S3 would play out by now. The crew are still tight-lipped after more than two years, so I had this “fine, I’ll do it myself” moment. I brainstormed this idea for a hypothetical S3 premiere in order to appease the fans, inspire them, and motivate them. I also came up with the three new mains (not official) and a song to go with my summary.

Lastly, since September, I’ve been uploading close-ups of characters on my First 5 Years fan art on birthdates of the voice actors who performed them. So far, only four of them noticed and appreciated what I did (Charlie Adler, Kevin Michael Richardson, Ken Marino, Josh Sussman).

So there you have it.

@crackmccraigen, @suspendersofdisbelief, @owner-of-wendys, @atalkingmagpie, @benbalistreri, @skulptduggery, and those who were involved in the show, I know you’re all busy working on other projects, but stopping a show after two seasons when one more season was planned out to close it out right was most definitely an imbecilic move on Disney’s part. No question. The executives didn’t think giving Fish Hooks a third and final season would be a mistake - it ended perfectly when it got three seasons and hence no SaveFH/SaveFishHooks. Anyway, you just keep going about your business while the fans continue to spread awareness.

Fans of overrated shows, all I ask is that you show some sympathy for Wander fans and help them talk some sense into the executives. I know it’s a long shot, but any world that leaves something ominous and unexplained until the end of time just wouldn’t be right. It’s plain to see that nobody asked for WOY to get canceled. In fact, if every Disney XD viewer had shown even the slightest interest in the show, we’d know everything about that third season by now. Nickelodeon gave Hey Arnold! closure, Cartoon Network gave Samurai Jack closure (albeit on the Adult Swim block), so it shouldn’t be that difficult for Disney to give WOY closure, or at least get some other company (maybe Netflix) to do it for them. You don’t have to abandon your favorite fandoms to save this show. I’m currently interested in Steven Universe and OK K.O., but that doesn’t preclude the fact that I want to see what happens after WOY’s second season. So go ahead, show your support in every possible way.

As for me, something new in my life will be happening. In the next four months, I’ll be attending a four-month long class learning to be an engineering technician, so my posts won’t be as frequent as they were before. Every now and then, I’ll continue to check on the status of SaveWOY as well as provide Thoughts of the Week and S3 Prediction Polls on Twitter (if possible). And guess what, in March of 2019, it will have been three years since SaveWOY launched. That’s longer than the period between the S1 premiere and the S2 finale (2 years and 9 months, if you count The Greatest to be the true premiere)! Maybe some of you might come up with something to commemorate the occasion.

Keep your chins up, keep your patience and sanity, and keep the campaign going!

@disneyanimation

@disneytva

@disneyxd

[veneataur]

Whumpmas day 23

Fandom: original fiction

Prompt: hemophobia

Title: Not Blood

Warnings: needles, restraints, thoughts of suicide, panic attack, depression, aftermath of torture, PTSD

Evie isn’t a woman of regrets. It’s not that she believes that everything that’s happened is good, but that everything shapes the person you are today. Take out something and who knows what type of person you might be. Getting captured and tortured has certainly shaped her into a type of person she didn’t expect and she doesn’t like. Coming down with a cold hadn’t been pleasant before, but now it’s unbearable, in part because it happens so much more often, but also because nine times out of ten, she winds up in the ER where the needles are so prevalent. And it doesn’t matter how many times she sees Emma, her psychiatrist, that fear never seems to fade. It’s PTSD, she’s told. It doesn’t help really. Yippee, there’s a name to attach to her fucked up mind. All it means is that when she has a flashback, she can whip out the name and garner pity and fear from everyone around. She wants to go back to normal.

It’s nearly midnight, which still seems strange to her to think about. For so long time was just counting and whenever master deigned to return to punish or teach her. Marla bought her a brand new watch, several actually, and put clocks in every room on every wall. Time is a constant now even though counting still seems easier sometimes. She counts herself to sleep at night and then during some of the long days when Marla and Nate are gone. They can’t be around all of the time, after all. They do have lives.

Marla doesn’t have much a life right now, though, as it seems every week she’s taking Evie to urgent care or the ER with a cold she can’t shake. It starts off with a simple cough, then comes dehydration and fever, which bring on flashbacks and nightmares, worse than usual. Evie knows they don’t think she can hear them when they’re talking, when Nate and Marla are wondering if she needs more care than they can provide. They say it wouldn’t be permanent, just a day thing, maybe weekly for a few weeks until she can get control over things.

She’d rather go back to master. She knows she’s not supposed to think that. Emma’s told her that master was bad and treated her poorly, but he never did. His punishments meant to teach her, to make her better. He’d be there for her without question, but then she remembers that she failed him and he left her. She was unworthy.

They all say that’s not true, but it has to be. She’s worthless here, an unnecessary burden on everyone. They should’ve just let her die. If she were braver, she’d take care of it for them.

“We need to take some blood to send it to the lab for testing,” the nurse, Izzy, says. “Are you up to sitting there or do we need some help?” Izzy is familiar with them. All of the ER staff is. It’s not hard to do when you have a panic attack every time a needle comes your way. She’s torn out a dozen IVs until they realize that the site has to be heavily taped and sometimes splinted so she can’t get to it. Nearly every visit to the ER results in being restrained, either by nurses or soft restraints and more often than she cares for, she’s sedated. No one knows exactly why she panics.

She shrugs her shoulders, coughing. The congestion in her lungs makes breathing difficult and her head ache. There’s also the fever that hasn’t let up. She’s not up to making any decisions tonight, no matter how simple. Decisions hadn’t been hers to make before.

“Let’s just do the restraints tonight, Izzy,” Marla says with a heavy sigh. “It’s been a long week.”

It should hurt that Marla goes for the restraints so easily, but she sees the worn look on Marla’s face. She’s wearing everyone down. Worthless. Evie doesn’t wait for the nurse to guide her to lay down on the bed. She even puts her arms and legs in the right positions and waits. Maybe she can do something right.

Izzy doesn’t waste any time in securing her with the restraints. The room is awkwardly silent, but Evie likes that. Silence is better than talking. It’s comfortable.

That’s all gone when she smells the antiseptic. Her heartbeat quickens and her breathing becomes shallow as she erupts into a terrible coughing fit. Izzy raises the head of the bed and replaces the nasal cannula with an oxygen mask. Evie’s throat and chest burn as she coughs. She’d like to curl up, but she can’t.

“Just try to take deep breaths, Evie,” Marla says, voice tired as she weakly holds on to Evie’s hand. It’s not that easy, Evie thinks. Every deep breath burns and brings about more coughing.

“Alright, I’m going to give you some time to get the coughing under control before I even try again,” Izzy says. “I’ll check with the doctor, but it’ll probably be a straight IV to make it easier to take blood and she’ll likely want you on fluids.” Izzy undoes the restraints but doesn’t put them away. Evie knows they’ll be back later, but she doesn’t care. She takes advantage of being freed to curl up, pulling her hands around her chest as she coughs. She doesn’t see the hurt look that crosses Marla’s face at the move and in the fit of coughing, she doesn’t hear the wearied sigh as Marla sits, pulling the chair close to the bed.

“I’ll be back in twenty minutes, but don’t hesitate to call if you need something,” Izzy says on her way out. Evie’s glad they have a room, not a curtain. It gives a little more privacy, but then she knows that she only disturbs others so it’s not really for her benefit, but everyone else’s.

Evie continues coughing, feeling everything grow in aching and pain. And then there’s the count down, the timer until Izzy comes back to put an IV in her. It nearly always happens when she’s in the ER because she’s dehydrated. She’s also underweight. Marla gets frustrated with her because she doesn’t eat. She can’t.

“You sound like you’re getting a little better,” Marla says.

Evie doesn’t say anything. She’s not sure if Marla is right. It doesn’t feel any better. Marla doesn’t say anything more as Evie tries to steady her breathing. If she can do that, then, when Izzy comes back she can do the IV, and they can go on as normal.

“I don’t hear any coughing,” Izzy says when she returns a little more than twenty minutes later. “Can you roll onto your back so I can see how you’re doing?”

Evie does as she’s asked. Although the coughing fit has gone, her breathing still feels rough and her chest aches.

“Everything looks as good as it can for now. You ready for the IV?”

Evie shrugs her shoulders and puts her limbs back in place for the restraints. Izzy puts the restraints on again and gets the kit set up for the IV.

“Before I get started, I want you to know that unless something unexpected happens, I’m going to keep going until I get this secured, okay?”

Evie nods, coughing.

“Okay. The doctor’s ordered treatment for likely dehydration as well.” Izzy talks as she’s preparing everything. It distracts Evie until she smells the antiseptic and then she’s starting to panic. She hates the feeling that her heart will tear from her chest and that the air is thinner. She can’t control any of it, either. Emma’s worked with her, but none of them know what happened to her. Amber, the lead detective in her case, doesn’t even know everything. She refuses to say anything. She can’t. That might get master in trouble.

So she panics. She gasps for breath as she coughs and feels her body grow distant until Izzy steps back, hands up. She says something, but the buzzing drowns it out. Still, she knows the gesture. Izzy’s done. There’s a slight lessening in the tension, but it’ll take time for her body to settle out. In the meantime, Izzy sets up the nebulizer to help with her breathing from the congestion and asthma.

“If she’s not settled anymore in ten minutes, call for me and I’ll give her a sedative. The doctor wants to hold it in reserve given her condition,” Izzy tells Marla.

“Sure.” Marla nods tiredly. Izzy leaves again and the room is silent save for Evie’s breathing and the machines. As the medication takes hold and the panic attack subsides, Evie starts to grow restless.

“You ready for me to undo these?” Marla points to the restraints. The nurses generally leave it up to Marla to undo the restraints once they’ve done their job.

Evie nods, the mask still in place. Marla undoes the restraints and replaces the mask with the nasal cannula. They’ve spent enough time here that she knows when it’s safe.

The peacefulness lasts a few minutes before Evie goes for the IV. Marla, in her tiredness, is too slow and Evie manages to get the IV loose, tearing it out of her hand as blood spurts freely from the vein, staining the bedding and Evie’s clothing. Marla slaps a hand over the wound as Evie continues to fight her. With her free hand, Marla pushes the help button.

That sets off a chain reaction. A few nurses and the doctor enter the room, going into action as soon as they see the situation. The restraints go back on, a sedative is administered, and a new IV is put in, in the other arm while the old site is stitched and bandaged. Evie panics at first until the sedative calms her. She’s not out, but she doesn’t have the strength to fight them.

“The restraints have to stay on this time,” the doctor tells Marla. “I’m working on getting her a room. She’s going to have to stay overnight at least.”

“Okay.” Marla sighs. The doctor says she’ll be back later to check on Evie and leaves with the nurses. Marla sits back to take in the all-too-familiar situation. How many times have they wound up like this? Evie’s been home for a month, in therapy for two months and nothing’s getting better. No one even knows for sure what’s happened to her save for the physical marks and what inferences Emma makes based on her behavior.  

“Damn it, Evie. I don’t understand this. Why won’t you fucking tell us what’s happened? We’re the good guys. It’s the people who took you who are bad, not us. We’re just trying to help you.” Marla can’t help her voice raising as she speaks. If Evie hears, she doesn’t know, doesn’t care. She can’t keep it in anymore. “I don’t know what to do to help you anymore. You’re afraid of everything. You can’t keep time. You don’t eat and you can’t make a single fucking decision, not even to decide what color shirt you’re going to wear.” It’s a lack of breath that stops her tirade.

“You think I’m happy?” Evie’s voice is quiet, tired and comes after a long pause.

“No, of course not, but…” Marla huffs. “You don’t tell us anything. We have no idea what happened to you except that you’re afraid of things you never were, like blood and food and people and so many other fucking things.”

“Not blood.”

“What?”

“It’s not blood.”

“That you’re afraid of?”

“Not blood,” Evie repeats.

“Then what?”

“Not blood.”

“Okay, it’s not blood then.” Marla sighs. It’s something, she supposes. It’s more than they’ve gotten from Evie in two months willingly. Whatever it is that Evie’s afraid of, it’s not blood.