#and it baffles me bc like ??? why would you want to be so pale

[ragazza-paradiso]

i’m so pale that you literally can’t see my stretch marks unless u shine a torch on them but u can see my veins through my chest #luminescent

[lueurjun]

sunghoon as your nerdy bf!

nerdy bf!sunghoon x popular!reader in which his love for ice pales in comparison to his love for you.!! written on 0 hours of sleep because i’m too warm and i’m simping for hoon rn. this may be longer than my other ones i’m not sure.

idiots to lovers type beat

bc you’re an idiot and so is he

little matching stupid heads the both of you <3 i just love it. i love you both. i ship you both

anyways let’s start

mans can’t stand you

or at least that’s what you’ve made yourself believe

you’re everyone’s favourite person, the type of person who just is so nice to everyone and has such radiance that it’s almost intimidating but you would never hurt a fly

everyone loves you as they should because if they don’t they’ll have to deal with me

me and my 5ft ass will protect you bby don’t worry i’m strong get behind me

everyone loves you but him

idiot boy:D

well you assume so anyway

idiot person:D

you’ve been crushing on him since you met him on the first day of high school

he handed you a pen when he realized you didn’t have one

acts of service type beat

boy you were hooked

bc a hot asf boy with the kindest eyes just gave you one of his pens because he noticed you didn’t have one

HE NOTICED YOU

but like who wouldn’t? ur perfect. forget sunghoon let me have you

anyways yeah he let you keep the pen which means he definitely wants to marry you

but no seriously he completely blanked you after that

whenever you were in the same vicinity as him he’d not even glance at you and if he did meet your eye, he’d just be stone faced

he kind of just avoided you which made you think he didn’t like you

which hurt but you weren’t one to push. if someone doesn’t like you, that’s a them issue and you’re not about to let it get to you

bc why should you? iconic if you ask me

but no yeah sunghoon disliking you stings a little

one day you kinda bring it up to jake who is a mutual friend of you both and casually just ask why sunghoon doesn’t like you

mr sim is baffled

“huh? wdym? my sunghoon? ice skating obsessed sunghoon?”

and you’re just like :O you had no idea he was an ice skater and your crush on him expanded tenfold

because that’s hot

that’s really hot

“yeah? why doesn’t he like me? did i do something?”

jake can’t believe what he’s hearing

wanna know why?

BECAUSE SUNGHOON DOESNT DISLIKE YOU

he has a crush on you<3

and he has since he gave you that pen

love of first sight trope fr

he keeps his cards quite close to his chest usually but he never shuts up about you

and he thinks you dislike him

because you make an effort with everyone but him

but that’s only because you think he hates you

idiots i’m telling you sweet little love sick dum dums

cuties though so i’ll let it slide

anyways jake quickly assures you that sunghoon just gets nervous around you

which gives you the confidence to strike up a conversation with him the next time you see him

it’s so awkward at first but he loosens up and the two of you actually learn a lot about each other

then you start texting

and then hanging out

and soon enough you’re pretty much just dating

like it’s just a natural thing? no asking or anything you kind of just establish that you both have mutual feelings and so yeah… you’re dating

LETS GET ONTO THE RELATIONSHIP BC THIS HAS GOTTEN VERY LONG

carrying each others things and no one can convince me otherwise

you carry his jacket for him when he isn’t wearing it and he holds your bag or your water bottle

protective hoon! always sending silent glares whenever anyone stares at you in a way he doesn’t approve of or if they’re mean to you

boy will use the bottom of his skate as a weapon if need be

test him. hurt the love of his life. go on. i dare you

the first time you see him skate you deadass nearly faint

because why does he looks so??? hot??

like he’s in his element and you find that so attractive

if you can’t skate already he definitely teaches you

holding your hands and gently guiding you, refusing to let go until he’s certain you’re 100% comfortable and safe

tying each others laces

he’s not the best with PDA but will most likely have a hand on you in public whether that be your waist, lower back, thigh. he just likes to be touching you

you running your nails down the back of his head and nape, gently tugging at his hair in a way that’s relaxing and not painful

KILLS HIM. HE LOVES IT. DO IT EVERYDAY

jake pouting that you stole sunghoon away from him

“yo i regret assuring them. go back to thinking he hates you pls. i want my best friend back”

“cry about it jake. he’s mine”

no but his friends are relieved that you’re finally together

they could not handle listening to him cry about you any longer

sunoo deadass almost locked you in a room together

“i was gonna do that but jungwon said that might be a grey area for kidnap so…”

biggest baby for you in private

the second he gets you alone, sunghoon is smothering you in love

he likes when you trail your fingers across his face because it relaxes him

definitely sprays his clothes in your scent when you’re not around because it comforts him and he can’t sleep without it

you do the same with his

both of you are terrible for leaving your things in each others rooms

“hoon did i leave my ipad in your bed?”

“y/n i think i left my watch on your bedside table”

he’s extremely shy and prefers to fade into the background

which is kinda hard when his partner is one of the most loved people on the universe

you seem to just know everyone

standing behind you holding onto your hand like a little lost puppy whilst you stop to talk to a friend in the street for the thousandth time

he hates parties but will always attend if you ask him to just to make sure you’re okay

let’s you have your fun but kinda shrinks into the corner and keeps an eye on you from afar

definitely the type to find a pet and just sit with it because he’d rather be in the company of a random dog than drunk sweaty bodies

but he loves you sm so he will never complain about attending

jay once found the two of you curled up with a random cat outside asleep together after a particularly extreme party

it was the oddest but kind of cutest thing he had ever seen

until you woke up and threw up all over his shoes

“i swear i hope he breaks up with you”

“leave me alone jay, i’m fragile”

always holds your hair back and rubs your back gently

sweetest bf to ever exist<3

[subwayfloorlicker1978]

tadc works better in the medium that it unintentionally conveyed itself as

okay. you’re probably reading this title thinking “but subwayfloorlicker1978… what IS the medium in question????” okay the medium in question is being a lore filled mysterious series with twists and turns and having an emphasis on twists and turns just as much as its characters.

now. this baffles me a little bit bc even though one could get that exact idea of tadc just by watching the first episode (and the fandom ITSELF literally got that impression. i mean its even evident in the fanmade aus.) gooseworx made a twitter post a few months ago that apparently tadc is made up of. and i quote. 95% character depth/stuff/etc and like 5% of lore. which is… hm.

which also baffled me! because my GOD was there a lot of lore foreshadowing and spooky (if you want to call it that.) stuff throughout episode 1. like WAY too much of it, especially if your main goal of tadc is to have it be a series centered heavily on the characters. not saying you can’t have background plot things going on, but like… 95%? seriously? i’m definitely praying she hadn’t entirely thought out that ratio before pressing the post button.

and that’s why tadc unintentionally comes across as a series with super deep lore, literally to the point where i’ve seen certain people unironically call it a horror series (which is wrong btw. even if you’re taking the c&a scenes + caine’s suspicious moments into account). it quite literally spends like 1/3 of its main scenes in episode 1 putting SO much emphasis on the c&a lore and the abstraction and everything else.

and the thing is. i dont entirely blame gooseworx for this. obviously it would be very important to flesh out the environment/world that the characters are in during the first episode (LITERALLY your first impression), which obviously includes locations like the lore office area pomni was in or the cellar where caine banishes all of the crazy people to go to. (oh and also even the topic of abstraction itself via kaufmo) but like..... there’s a reason why tadc has a game theory episode.

i’ve said this before and ill say it again. tadc and the entire “digital circus” thing and the implementation of vr headsets + lore into the story is ONLY an excuse for gooseworx to tell a compelling story about compelling characters in a cartoony wacky environment. its basically a guaranteed way for the viewers to actually see these goofy characters in a humanoid manner. however… you can’t just implement characters with these vr headset backstories and existential themes without it sounding entirely ominous. AND you can’t just drop a huge bombshell regarding the lore of the show and WHY the vr stuff happened and then go on twitter and say that its 95% about the characters.

and with the direction of the cellar and office scenes.. im not sure if it’s even possible for someone to make a clean cut resolution to the lore tidbits while still fulfilling the “5%” lore thing and not having it come off as giving off the wrong expectations. the direction of these scenes is SO intense like. some of these camera shots clearly put emphasis on small little details and the tone of these scenes pale so much in comparison to previous scenes that it catches you so off guard.

which is what makes them very well written! however they pack so much content and foreshadowing into themselves that its such a far fetched thing to say that only 5% of lore will make up tadc. that combined with the prospect of past lives. and also with the clear foreshadowing of jax being a morally corrupt person. what about the extremely heavy motifs of exit doors? there’s no way THATS going to just be gone after episode 1. goose, what do you MEAN there’s going to be corpse imagery? all of this ties into each other. lore and tone tie into each other too. come on.

but these aspects can definitely be used to craft a great story. WITH character arcs and character deep dives throughout episodes. gravity falls literally nailed this. and theoretically tadc could too. emphasis on theoretically.

also if the “memory loss” thing was actually canon and not something the fandom thought was canon (again reasonable misinterpretation because obviously if you hear pomni say “HOLY FLIP I FORGOT MY OWN NAME!!!” you’re going to assume she forgot everything else.) that would also work well along with the theoretical lore stuff if it was more emphasized. literally think of the vast opportunities for foreshadowing. maybe pomni finds out something about the other characters via revisiting the office that THEY can’t remember. maybe do something with like… reflexes and muscle memory or something related to “the mind forgets but the body remembers”. maybe use it as a plot point in relation to jax’s keys or his weirdly implied secret or something. IDK! i just think a lore and plot driven story in this environment combined with character things (50/50…) would be marginally more interesting than what we will be given.

okay one more pet peeve in relation to this before i go. deep breath……. i really hate how the cartoonish body language of the main human cast. GO AHEAD BOO ME. THROW TOMATOES AT ME. LET ME EXPLAIN OKAY.

one piece of media that i think does a GREAT job when it comes to utilizing body language in storytelling is duck season. it clearly humanizes the guy in the suit by giving him certain habits that seem undoubtedly human and make him feel very… alive. like whenever he smokes a cigarette but then quickly puts it out when the player gets near him bc he’s startled and needs to keep up a facade. like THAT. that’s what strikes me as a human behavior.

so if goose’s goal would be to humanize these “cartoon” characters… realistic body language that clashes with their digital circus designs would be a perfect way to make them stick out in comparison to the npcs or caine and bring out the fact that they’re humans in an environment curated by nonhumans. it would also help a little more with tadc’s target demographic problem i think? the characters having little humanoid habits would make it seem a little more mature i think and would also go well with my idea of theoretical lore-focused tadc. not saying 20 year olds CANT be into pieces of media that have bright colors and are very cartoony. im just saying. there’s a reason why there’s so much content slop of tadc.

[ssahotstuff]

Aaron Hotchner x Camgirl!Reader PART 8

part 7 is here

spotify playlist (updated daily as i write)

pinterest board also updated daily <3

This is 18+ bc smut, so minors please DNI!!!

Warnings for this series: does include formalized s*x work(cam girl obviously, & other forms also) bad cooking! So bad! The worst you've ever seen! Small fire(cooking related, but noone gets hurt) cursing, alcohol, sex, duh, mentions of cases at the BAU, crime, drama, shy Hotch, for this chapter specifically: Clarice being an absolute old bitch lmaooo also Clarice getting SLAPPED so... if I missed anything let me know please 💕

Shit pops off here lmao fair warning

Word count: 2.8K. I plan to make this fic a little longer so I'll be making the chapters a bit shorter but hopefully updating more often.

Denise greeted you at the door, her purple sequined dress fitting her tall, slender frame perfectly. You were glad Denise had suggested dinner at her place, sparing you the cigarette-laced meal at Clarice's home. Clarice would be the last to arrive, as usual, so you helped Denise in the kitchen, letting Dave and Aaron hang out in her living room. You two looked fit to be in the kitchen; you'd not changed out of your sundress and Denise looked like a sexy eggplant, stirring away at a sauce that she was burning rapidly.

"Please tell me you can help," she whispered, handing you a pan of tiny Cornish hens to be put in the oven.

"Girl, all this money and you can't pay a chef? Or get some cooking lessons?" You took over at the stove, Denise thanking you profusely for saving her ass while she poured you both a glass of white wine.

"Any idea what Clarice's emergency dinner is about?" If anyone would know, it was Denise. You two had an unspoken agreement that she played Devil's advocate with Clarice, getting all the juicy details of her master plans and delivering them to you over time.

"Aaron. Duh. She wants to make a spectacle."

You huffed, knowing all along that's why she wanted to see you. She just couldn't give it up.

"Of course. That bitter old hag doesn't know when to stop," you complained, turning abruptly when you heard the slamming of a door.

"The bitter old hag has arrived, and she has gifts!" Clarice announced, earning an eye roll from you and Denise.

"Great, because we need to talk." You dried your hands on the nearest towel, making sure to keep your tone steady, or else she'd eat you alive at the first sound of vulnerability.

"Talk, darling. Where is that fine specimen of a man you brought last night?" She was shamelessly scanning the room for Aaron, so you grabbed her by the shoulders, pulling her attention back towards you.

"You listen to me. You keep your slimy paws off of Aaron. It's not cute. It makes him uncomfortable. If you make my man uncomfortable again, I will send you to the old folks' home and tell them you're mentally incompetent."

Her mouth went agape at your words, Denise howling in a fit of insane laughter at your promise. Your face never faltered, not once. You weren't going to play this game with her, not over Aaron. He was too important to you to lose.

"Oh shit," Denise sputtered, glancing between the two of you, trying to salvage the dinner she'd ruined while not missing a second of the show. Clarice was baffled, clutching her pearled chest in shock at your words.

"Is that any way to treat the woman who gave you the life you have now? I only wanted to see him because I brought him gifts, dear. You're going to love them!" Her icy tone made you feel anything but loved as she ignored your warning, running off to find Aaron and Dave before you could protest. It was no use, but the second she touched him, you knew you'd blow a fuse.

She had gift bags by the door that she was retrieving and heading towards the living room with, and instead of following, you took over at the stove so dinner was halfway edible.

"That bitch is really working my nerves," Denise whispered as she refilled your glasses. When Aaron rounded the corner with his gifts in hand, his face was pale and his eyes were averted to the floor.

"God, what has she done?" You whispered, stepping forward to check the damage. When you realized what it was, you had to grip the counter for support at the audacity.

3 framed photos of you from your website. You recognized them instantly; one was the very first picture you'd ever made money from. The second was a random photo that had more likes than you ever thought possible, and the third was one of the more recent photos you'd taken, stark naked except for a thin pink bandeau top barely covering your breasts.

"At least she chose good ones," Denise said cheerfully, trying not to show how shocked she was that Clarice would be so bold. You weren't surprised in the slightest, but your heart ached for Aaron. You'd never felt shame like this, and you couldn't imagine what was going through his mind.

"Don't," Denise warned when you calmly took off your earrings, sitting them on the counter behind you. You were seeing red, and if it had been a movie, this is the part where smoke would expel from your ears in pure fury.

"Too late," you called back to her, making a beeline for where she stood in the living room, Dave sitting awkwardly as she talked his ear off. You slapped her hard across the face, the satisfying whack! of her flesh beneath your palm distracting you from the sting it left. Before you could even ball a fist up and swing, Dave was grabbing your arms and dragging you back towards the kitchen.

"Alright Tyson, let's get you a drink," Dave let you go, asking Denise to pour you a glass of water. You sat at the table with your hands in your lap, waiting on Clarice to make you pay for what you'd done. When she sauntered into the kitchen, Aaron put himself between her and you, making sure that if she made one wrong move, he'd be able to stop her.

"Are you upset that I showed your little boyfriend what a prize you really are? You're so confident, Baby. Where's that confidence now, hmm?"

You were unsure of how to respond without making the situation worse for yourself, so you took every harsh word she had to say.

"That's what I thought. If you want any shot at a normal life, you better stop while you can."

She was gone as quickly as she'd arrived, the room in awkward silence until Dave broke the tension.

"I think they'd go well in your office," he nodded towards the framed photos, and Aaron cut his eyes at the man. You wanted to cry, but it was no use. She'd won for now, and there was nothing you could do about it.

You met Aaron's gaze for the first time since he'd shown you the photos. He didn't look happy, but if he was mad, he didn't seem the type to show it in front of other people. He stayed in his spot across the room, giving you a soft smile before he followed Dave back to the couch. Denise was pulling up a chair next to you, her hand on your shoulder.

"We'll get her back. Don't worry," she was just trying to help, but there was no getting back at Clarice. She'd make you miserable as long as she had the power to do so. You only saw her a few times a year, but each time was significantly worse than the last. This surpassed them all.

"He's pissed. I can tell."

"He doesn't really have a right to be, but I can see it too."

You shrugged, sipping at your water. You'd be pissed if you were in his shoes. You planned to let him be until he was ready to talk. He had his mind on being distracted, and you could tell by the ice clinking repeatedly into his glass that his mind was drifting further away from enjoying the evening and closer to forgetting.

"Denise?"

"Hmmm?"

"Your sauce might be on fire."

The kitchen was filling quickly with smoke as the fire alarm blared loudly, the two of you working quickly to extinguish it. Before you could stop her, she was opening the kitchen window and tossing the pot onto the street below. You waited for a scream, but instead, it clattered and bounced, landing on the opposite end of the street, the sauce still splattering against the pavement.

"Denise, where do you keep your brain cells around here?" You looked under the table and in the nearest drawers, Denise laughing hysterically from her spot in the window. Her laugh was more shrill than the fire alarm, the commotion over by the time Dave and Aaron were rushing to the rescue.

"Crisis averted! No worries, gentlemen. We'll be dining at The Playroom instead of a meal cooked by the two of us bozos," Denise announced, fanning the smoke out the window.

"What the hell did you two do?" Dave was opening windows, coughing as he and Aaron helped fan the place out. By the time you'd gotten the fire alarm to stop beeping, everyone was in tears from laughter at the retelling of what had happened.

"Is this what you learned from your cooking show?" Aaron asked lowly from behind you, his arms wrapped snugly around your waist to pull you in. As quickly as they were there, he was dropping them again, as if the contact might hurt him.

"I blame Denise. I was preoccupied." You tried hard to keep your voice steady, but the cold shoulder was difficult for you to deal with.

"We're leaving soon," he told you, and you nodded in response. You thanked Denise for the invitation to go out but explained that you wanted to find food and go back to the hotel. She was more than understanding after the events of the day, bidding you both goodnight and sending you on your way. Aaron clutched his photos tightly on his way to the elevator, a few steps ahead of you the entire time. You struggled to keep up with his fast pace, his legs much longer than yours.

"Hey, slow down for a second," he stopped abruptly and you ran straight into him, his arm breaking the contact before you collided with his body.

"I'm sorry," you sputtered, and he took your hand in his, remaining quiet on the ride down and the short walk to hail a cab. You rode in silence, watching out the window at the city lights that you'd not even gotten to fully enjoy. You'd been so excited to stay in the city; now you couldn't wait to leave.

Your heart was drumming in anticipation for what Aaron was thinking or feeling, his growing annoyance towards you a clear indicator of wanting to be left alone. When you climbed in and sat by the door, he stayed on his side, not bothering to scoot close to you. He was pissed.

You knew better than to say anything before you were in your hotel room, behind the security of the doors, so no one could see him dump you. You knew it was coming, and you'd been preparing for it since Clarice had walked through the door. Your heart was heavy, you were trying desperately not to cry until you reached the 12th floor.

You'd never gotten out of a car so fast, Aaron on your heels. The quiet was tense; the lobby was packed but you two had yet to say a word, and that was louder than anything happening around you. You leaned against the metal wall of the elevator, your arms crossed tightly over your chest. He stood opposite, almost mirroring your actions.

"You seem angry."

He nodded, shrugging his shoulders.

"I'll get over it," he said shortly, legs putting distance between the two of you before you could carry the conversation further. You didn't even try to speak to him when he stopped in the living room to pour a drink. You headed straight for the bedroom, closing the door so you could change and climb into bed. You weren't waiting on him. You knew he was embarrassed in front of his friend, but so were you, if not more. It wasn't his body on display for everyone to see.

Your head was in your hands, tears spilling over like a flood. You shoved your face in the pillow to muffle your cries so Aaron wouldn't come asking questions. You doubt he would anyway, but you didn't want to give him a reason.

You heard your phone vibrate, assuming it was Aaron asking you to come to talk to him. It wasn't.

Hotch: Are you busy?

You couldn't believe the nerve. He hadn't spoken to you in nearly two weeks; his bullshit was the last thing you needed. You blocked his number without responding, and before he could message you on your website, you banned his account, saying goodbye forever to the jackass that only wanted you when it was convenient for him. You wanted to cuss him out, but you refused to give him the satisfaction of a reply after what he'd done to you.

You knew sleep was impossible, so you flipped on the television, Aaron still drinking in the other room. You'd hear the bottle meet the glass periodically, knowing that what he was doing was his way of dealing with the shitty night. You wanted to believe things would be better if you just left him alone.

Dirty Dancing was on, so you got comfortable, making a pile with the pillows and settling under the duvet. You weren't sure how to approach Aaron without enraging him. As much as you wanted to join him and apologize for everything that happened, you were more afraid of making things worse.

You'd almost dozed off when he stumbled into the bedroom, knocking the small table by the door over in the process. You sat straight up on high alert, calming down a little when you heard him shush the table for falling and creep further into the room.

He was drunk, roaring drunk.

"Did I wake you?"

You shook your head, staring back at him. He was still dressed in his black polo, and the sight made you want to drool. Even now, red in the face and slurring his words, he was the sexiest man you'd ever known.

"Are you okay?"

He scoffed, kicking his jeans off, sliding a pair of flannel pajama pants on in their place.

"Can we just pause this conversation for when we won't be stuck together all night long? I'd rather not do this and then have to climb into bed with you afterward."

You gulped back the lump in your throat and pushed his pillows onto his side of the bed, leaving enough space that he wouldn't even have to touch you. You flipped the lamp off, leaving him to get dressed with only the glow of the television. When he crawled into bed, he rolled away from you, making sure his warmth was nowhere to be found.

"I'm sorry, Aaron. I know you don't want to talk-"

"Then quit trying to talk to me. Leave it alone. Please, Y/N. Let's just get through the night so I can go home tomorrow," his voice was strained and you could hear how hard he was trying to avoid having this conversation.

"Okay."

You grabbed your pillow and headed for the couch, Aaron almost asleep before you could close the door behind you. You wanted to call Denise and ask if you could just come to stay with her, but leaving seemed like a worse alternative. Aaron made it abundantly clear that he had no interest in fixing things tonight, so you put in your headphones and paced the floors, trying to make yourself tired.

The sun was coming up, and your eyes had yet to close. You sat against the wall, staring out the window at the city below, trying to figure out how you'd fucked up so much in 24 hours. You were waiting on the sun to be out completely before you started the day; you weren't sure if Aaron still wanted to stay or go back to work. You were going to stay in New York, with or without him.

You didn't feel like writing in your diary. You didn't feel like doing anything. You were growing sadder by the second, Aaron's behavior had been so out of character for him, even if he was drunk. The sun came, so you decided to bathe and start the day.

You adjusted the shower to your liking, shuffling your music and climbing in. You kept the volume low so you wouldn't wake Aaron, terrified of what may happen if you did. It was the quietest shower you'd taken in a while, but it was peaceful, leaving you with your thoughts. You weren't angry with Aaron, you were just upset that he got drunk instead of taking the time to talk to you.

You hadn't slept, you hadn't eaten. You were cranky, and starving. Aaron had yet to budge, so you grabbed your bag from the floor and got dressed. You pulled on a pair of denim shorts and a t-shirt, tossing your hair up before you ventured out to the streets below.

[darkhats]

my response to that one cookie run drama video from 2019

if u were in the fandom at around 2019 you'll remember this video. really a grand hallmark of its time. this is probably the most unecessary thing ill ever do but i see alot of recent comments from a month ago agreeing with this and i think thats extremely sad. im mostly doing this as a fun nostalgia trip and also i really want to justify me wasting 14 minutes watching this

first of all i want to say this video is fucking awful. just dreadful. like girl what the fuck are you even saying. i'd only recommend watching in full if you want to hear about the fandom in 2019 with a condesending voice talking down to you the whole time and even then you could probably do better just scrolling through the discourse tag

i suggest you pull up the video yourself as i'll be responding by timestamps. if i sound angry at some points its because i am

you can skip to 1:40 the rest is just intro stuff

1:47 | im really curious why you put this screenshot while saying "entitled fans" bc u never elaborated and i would really LOVE for you to explain whatever this one meant

1:50 | for the "huge amounts of hypocrisy" bit i have no idea what this is? this would be hypocrisy if the twitter acc in the previous screenshot and this tumblr blog r the same person but theyre not. we don't all think like a hivemind? this post is stupid in general stop infantilising asian ppl like they have no idea what a black person even is

2:02 | "gatekeeping what kind of ships you're allowed to like" with this screenshot u a proshitter or sumn🤨

the rest of the things they listed will be talked about later

2:51 | oh wow the "fixing art" thing. i dont think this is a thing anymore but it definitely was a big thing back in 2019! the thing is im quite neutral on it because a lot of artists dont like their work being edited but on the other hand if you dont like when people put the correct skintones on your art then maybe you should colour it right the first time

i will say though if you see cool art of like dark choco or espresso and its whitewashed and u wanna edit it so its not and u keep it to yourself then idc thats fine to me. the grey area is when it comes to characters like moonlight or alchemist, who's skintone is quite difficult to pull off in some artstyles. a lot of the examples in the video use people like cherry blossom or cotton candy who don't quite fit in the same category but are usually targets of this anyway

a very simple fix is to just use a different colour but to not make them significantly lighter from how they look in canon, which alot of the examples you showed don't do. they all look pale as shit compared to what they actually look like ingame and thats why people complained about them

also your marina video is fucking awful btw

3:53 |

4:56 | "so many people in the fandom hate the developers" im one of them hiii. i should probably use this time to explain why (please note that this was made in 2019 so a few of the points im bringing up here will probably be a bit too recent)

devsisters really love showcasing whitewashed art of their characters (they used to do it on their forums rarely but thats now gone) and recently they've been quite excited to dabble in the whitewashing themselves (keep in mind the others except from twizzly gummy don't really count as whitewashing but they're all significantly lighter than their regular appearance). its like a hobby or sumn. everytime they host a fanart contest i brace for god damn impact. and this has been a thing since FOREVER

speaking of race and ethnicity, lilacs costume (and redesign in general) is just... bad but i dont think they were even introduced at the time of this video. milk and yam WERE though and its extremely baffling to me how this went through an entire team/company and got greenlit. its insane how shit they are (if it was just yam on his own i wouldn't hate him as much, i still wouldn't like him tbh, but they decided to pair him up with a white saviour). would i call them racist though? ...idk? they've been moving funny recently cant lie

another thing is the valentines day video which pisses me off to even think about. in that vid theres alot of.. ships that definitely arent legal. and whitewashing ^_^ they still haven't addressed it btw if ur curious. but it happened this year and honestly i wouldnt blame them for not thinking devsisters would do something like that bc i sure didnt!

theres also the thing with nfts but no one couldve foresaw that one coming

i assume when you mention people saying devsis are transphobic that you're talking about characters like dark choco or cinnamon who weren't referred by any pronouns until they were magically given he/him pronouns later on. nonbinary people can use any pronouns they so damn please but i get why people would get annoyed about them both suddenly being referred as he/him. wouldn't call it transphobic though. other than idk, how tf am i meant to defend something when u dont even telling me what ur talking abt

and 5:29 is quite the bold claim if you have to say "do i have evidence for this asian hate? no.." when bringing it up again btw

now we're onto the "stories from a few people" section. the few people are actually just two, the first one just runs their mouth for way too long. dw they both suck. ignore how the creep art person is there its been addressed already in the description (which is funny because the creator remembers this video still? and they presumingly agree with it still..?)

7:00 | i would heavily recommend putting the video on like 1.75 speed and just reading the reply yourself because this person goes on for WAY too long. excuse me if the timestamps are wrong because of this but at this point i really just do not care

the first thing i want to address is the cuphead and cookie run fandom comparison, because its just as ridiculous as it sounds "i have no idea why its so focused on being sensitive about cookies sexualities, genders, and races, when other fandoms dont even take subjects like that as seriously. im pretty sure the cuphead fandom takes its bosses less seriously than the cr fandom does its cookies..." literally what the fuck are you on about? excuse me as im not a cuphead fandom connoisseur here but how are either fandoms connected?? they both got a vastly different audience, gameplay, artstyle and characters (+ character design). the only thing similar is that theyre both popular i GUESS. also maybe the cookie run fandom is so "sensitive" about cookies races bc they keep getting whitewashed every 5 seconds🤔? just a game theory tho🤔

7:25 | pisses me off ever so fucking much. the "ive never seen a fandom get so disrespectful over issues that i honestly dont think even exist" while talking about MILK COOKIE COOKIE RUN are u crazy are u dense im glad you can frollick along in ur flowerfields not having to ever deal with racism but I cannot. and if ur not talking abt him then you'd be talking about the "sensitive about sexualities/genders/races" thing and yeah man u right none of that is real. the LGBT disappeared suddenly in 1987. all humans were destroyed as they had race. we're all grey goo people

im not even sure what the complaint even is.. oh nooo someone did a milk redesigning the controversial parts of his design... how ever will we recover..?

8:15 | yeah as everyone knows i can make a character as pale as i want in fanart as long as i say these are my humanizations actually. garbage argument, most people dont draw the characters as actual cookies and most of the fanart does just fine with eyedropping the characters original skintone (oh im sorry, dough!!) so whats the excuse?

dont worry this person is done now we're almost at the end

11:18 | for the other reply, its the fiction doesnt equal reality shit do you really need me to go over this one? do you really. if they just cookies and its just fiction then why y'all feelings hurt so bad. also lumping in whitewashing with age and gender while ur talking about peoples headcanons is a bit weird btw

anyway the last thing i want to go over is the "cookie run fandom is soo obsessed with debating on whitewashing, ages, gender and sexualities!" thing thats so prevelent with these arguments. 2019 had this fun period where with every new cookie that came out there was some sort of controversy with them (millennial tree and raspberry mousse being he/him, roll cake and sorbet shark being a child or not, ect.)

whitewashing is obvious why so i'll move on. some characters can be seen as lesbian coded (white choco and rose for having majority girl fans, sea fairy in general) and there are a few characters that explicitly aren't referred to by any pronouns (dark choco before the guild adventures, peppermint, ect.) which u dont see everyday in games. so yeah.. people care about these things because they like representation. who would've thought?

now im gonna be fucking real. the arguments over cookies ages were always annoying - the reason why the fandom has arguments about ages so much is because devsis REFUSES to tell us canon ages. think about it, majority of the "canonially confirmed" children in the game are from a child event that happened in LINE. thats a completely different company running the game. because of how character-heavy the game is, ships are a very big part of the fandom. i sincerely doubt theres anyone in the fandom who doesnt like any ship and at the time rarepairs were rly common. so when you've got a fandom who really likes to ship and developers that dont ever mention ages then you get a fucking mess. i dont know what sorbet shark or roll cakes age is and its pointless to even debate it because id rather just have the devs confirm it themselves (not like they ever will). and even for the one singular time they did specify that one of the characters was a child, they still showcased fanart of said kid being shipped with an adult anyway

but that concludes the video and thus this response! i have wasted so much time on this i honestly could've showed you them ranting about how "cookies dont have skin colours" in the video or the part in the marina video where they complain about how people "think whitewashing is bad but make non-black characters black" and moved on but what else would i do on a sunday night?

[janiedean]

PLEASE tell me about sam >> the world and the rock band au.

OKAY SO:

 sam >>> the world was... originally a thing I wrote for an exchange which then I scrapped bc it got too long and I never finished it, but basically the concept was jon gets robb’s will before he’s elected LC and he accepts being kitn except he goes to sam like PLEASE SAM BE MY HAND OR I CAN’T DO THIS, and then sam was going to proceed on solving Each Single Problem Jon Could Have starting from being friends with theon to finding sansa in the vale to finding arya and sandor to basically really solving everything and it was gonna be jon/sam but eeeeh I quit when sandor showed up bc I lost track of the plot T_T HOWEVER, I WOULD LIKE TO FIND AND QUOTE YOU A BIT WHERE BASICALLY SAM DRAGGED THEON WITH HIM TO THE VALE BC HE WAS SURE THEY’D KILL HIM OTHERWISE WHERE THEON RECOGNIZED SANSA AND TOLD SAM IT WAS HER WHICH IS2G WHEN DND HAD THE SAME THING HAPPEN WITH POD AND BRIENNE IN S5 I SCREAMED BECAUSE I WROTE THIS SHIT IN 2013 OR 2014 AND I SAID WHAT I SAID

“Go, go,” Baelish says, and he looks pale as a sheet as well. At least he didn’t have anything witty to say, Sam thinks before grabbing Theon’s arm and leading him outside the room.

“Stop,” Theon tells him a moment later. “I don’t – I just need some air. I don’t think – I won’t.”

“All right,” Sam agrees before leading him towards a half-open window in the hallway.

“I’m sorry,” he says as Theon takes deep, heavy breaths.

“For what?”

“I didn’t even – how did you know?”

“Don’t you think that Ramsay Bolton would have spared me the details?” Theon whispers. “I threw up. Then. And he – he also threw at me handfuls of red hair covered in blood. I told you I could play along.”

Sam thinks that he’s going to be sick.

“But – I need you to listen to me,” Theon whispers then, his voice still shaking, as if he’s forcing himself to say what he’s about to say.

“What?”

“The Lord Protector’s daughter.”

“Yes, what about her?”

“That’s no bastard. She’s Sansa Stark.”

For a moment, Sam is sure he’s heard wrong.

“She’s who?”

“Sansa. She dyed her hair and she’s older than – well, the last time I saw her, but I lived at Winterfell for nine years. Do you think I wouldn’t recognize her?”

And it does make sense. Sansa disappeared from King’s Landing when Baelish went to the Vale, didn’t she? Sam is pretty sure of that.

“And – you saw her when I was telling that story. She looked sick. As much as I felt.”

Oh gods be good. He’s right. Sam wonders how a simple mission suddenly turned out complicated – and if Theon hadn’t been there he wouldn’t have even known, would he?

He thinks about his options.

And then he hopes that he still has some courage left and that he hadn’t exhausted it when he killed an Other.

“All right,” he whispers. “I have no idea of why she’s here, but if she wants to come with… do you think you have it in yourself to go down the mountain twice in one day?”

Theon goes pale all over again. Sam had noticed that he could barely keep his eyes open the first time.

“What’s the plan?” he asks.

“I’m asking her. If it’s true, and if she’s here against her will… well, I already know I’m not getting Baelish’s men. And I’m sure that if I came back with his sister Jon – I mean –”

“You don’t need to call him His Grace,” Theon says, and he sounds almost amused. Barely. As much as someone like him can sound amused. “I couldn’t call Robb like that either.”

“Fine. Jon would like that better than an army, I think. So, do you think you can do it?”

Theon shakes his head again and then looks up at him. “I don’t think that I’d ever want to do it again, but just the fact that you asked first makes me think that I can try it.”

Well then, Sam thinks, that’s settled.

like excuse me but what the fuck

rock band au: okay so I had written this rock band au for jonc/brynden for that last prompt meme I took which I should finish one of these days but like then I was doing this chalenge and I ended up writing a sequel for it where they’re touring with theon who’s like the opening solo act for their band and him and jaime argue in the changing room also theon is with robb who’s the long suffering agent and theon wants jaime to hit on brienne who’s like going to all the concerts and it’s actually finished but I really need to revise it and see if I can put it together with the other one, at the end of it theon and robb had a moment™ backstage while jaime and brienne got together post-concert but here have a snipped or more:

“You know that girl that always is in first row, Lannister?”

“I do, Greyjoy. I very well damn do, and is there a reason you’re gloating at me now?”

“Just saying,” Theon says, and Jaime thinks, don’t finish that sentence, don’t finish that sentence, don't finish that sentence, “that while the time for groupies is over, I mean, supposedly so, considering that you invite her backstage every other moment and that she’s been at each single show of this tour, maybe you could invite her.”

“Can it,” Jaime groans, “no way. I’m not —”

“And why not? Come on, I’ve opened for your band for the entire last month, we drove through half of this bloody fucking country and I know for sure that you’re the only person in it that’s not getting any, and seeing your pretty face, it’s honestly baffling.”

“And since when do you care about how much I’m getting? Are you volunteering?”

Theon laughs, dark hair falling all over his shoulders as he fixes his leather trousers in front of their shared changing room — yes, this venue is so shitty that they have to share rooms in between bands, and fine, Theon’s technically a solo act but he does have a band, and he hopes the others are not being too cramped because their room is so small they can’t even change at the same time. He nods, pleased with his hair, definitely, and then goes to grab a black shirt from his bag and puts it on without closing it. Guess this is the night where he plays with his shirt open making sure his poor manager dies of frustration.

Robb Stark is a saint, Jaime thinks sometimes, because to manage this guy, you really need to have an insane amount of patience.

Good thing that they never needed one and Jon always took care of it, but still.

“I mean,” Theon says, “in the ideal world, I would, but alas, I know that it’s not meant to be. For one, I’m not your Kinsey scale one —”

“How the fuck do you know that?”

“What, that you’re a one or that I’m not it?”

“Both, for —”

“I mean,” Theon goes on, “you obviously aren’t a zero or you wouldn’t stare at your bassist’s ass, and honestly also at your guitarist’s, and I wouldn’t exclude, you know, that you three might have had a go at it at some point —”

“That never happened!” Jaime protests, not that he hasn’t entertained that thought once or twice, but still, he doesn’t bat for that team, as a general rule. He just hates that Theon has apparently figured him out that easily.

“Regardless,” Theon goes on, “you’re a one, but if those two are your type, considering they’re both older than you and ginger and blue eyed and I’m not either of that, I think I’m not it. Also, no way you like pitching.”

+ throbb snippet

“So,” Theon says, as he drags Robb towards the back exit, “I might have told Lannister that I’d leave him the changing room for the night.”

“… What,” Robb says, following even if he’s trying to slow him down, “he finally decided to fess up to that poor girl?”

“Oh, that’s to be seen, I just gave him the chance to,” Theon shrugs, “which is why we’re taking a cab and going to the hotel at once.”

“Wait,” Robb says, “we should —”

He never finishes the sentence because Theon presses him against the wall and kisses him and fucking hell, Robb would like to just give in and let him and actually he would like to grab Theon’s shoulders and press him against the fucking wall, except —

“We should wait until the Kingsguard is done,” he breathes, “you agreed to sign those records, but it has to be with them. And people paid for it.”

“Oh, of course, ever the correct person —”

“Theon, I’m your fucking manager, you picked me, it’s not like you can exactly skirt around — obligations,” he groans when Theon sucks a bruise into his neck.

“Right, right, so you’d rather stay here and wait two hours instead of running to the hotel with me? We could make it, you know, if Jimmy Page and Robert Plant could —”

“It’s not the fucking seventies,” Robb groans, wishing Theon would just not press, even if fuck but now he really feels like he’s going to come in his trousers like a fifteen year-old and the fact that he’s definitely been wanting to kiss Theon at least since then is not helping, and yet —

“Really? I missed that memo.”

+ jb snippet

“Sure,” she says, reaching out to grab it, and then she swallows — “You know,” she said, “you sounded… more intense today.”

“Did I,” he says. “How?”

She shrugs, her large shoulders barely slimmed by the black band shirt sporting his face that she’s wearing, and fuck if it was weird being the face of the merchandise, except that it had to happen.

Fucking Targaryen.

“I’m not quite sure,” she says, “just… there was a difference? In the good sense, though. You felt… more immersed, not to say that you’re not usually, it’s just… I don’t know, I felt like crying more than once.”

Oh.

Well.

“Maybe,” he sighs, “I had a conversation with Greyjoy before that made me realize a few things,” he goes on. “I suppose. I don’t know,” he shakes his head, “I just… you’ve been listening to us since before Rhaegar fucked off, and I just — I guess it just sank in that I’m not going back to my former job anytime soon.”

“Can — can I say I’m not sad that you aren’t?”

“You can,” Jaime shrugs, “it’s just, it felt a bit too much. I never signed up for that.”

“But you sing those songs a lot better than he did.”

“Not the first person that told me that, today.”

“But it’s true. He just — he was good. But you just have a whole other delivery.” She blushes, guileless blue eyes staring into his, and he thinks of how she told him that his songs made her survive high school and some kind of ridiculous bet her supposed friends made about her fucking v-card and he just — fuck. She’s so nice. She’s the kind of nice person you wouldn’t presume listens to his fucked up lyrics, and yet.

And yet she does.

[nightlight-stardust-and-rain]

I fucking NEED to write a Homestuck reincarnation AU with the ancestors. So I'll do it.

Tbh it'll be mostly our favorites hemoanarchist (gods do I love this word) ; The Signless, the Dolorosa, the Psiioniic and the Disciple. Because I love them, that's why. (let's say the Psiioniic died with the others bc if he's not dead he can't be reborn. He was still the helsman but for a shorter time)

So at first I was thinking "they could be reincarnated as Karkat, Sollux, Nepeta and Kanaya" but then I realized that there would be no Karkat, Nepeta, etc... And I love them. So nope nope nope. So I decided that they would be reborn six or seven sweeps before the beta trolls, with the same sign, same blood color and pre-scratch names. They're raised by the same lusus as their descendants. Now there's three ways to do it. 1) everyone remembers. 2) nobody remembers but they have feelings and dreams. 3) only one of them remember. The 3 would be interesting and sad ! Lots of angst. But as much as I love angst, I couldn't write it to save my life. I'm just overwhelmed by the "I want them to be happy". The 2 would be very interesting to write ! Slow burn and pining and also angst bc "why the fuck am I dreaming about my wrists burning ???". Also "I feel I loved you for so long but we literally just met ???". Nice. But sadly, I'll write the 1 ! Because I want to.

So. They're hatched like seven sweeps before their descendants. At first, they live their life quietly. Since Alternia is... Well, a whole planet, they never met when they were young (that would be too easy. They'll meet way later). They think they are alone :( cue angst. But their life isn't so bad. Kinda. Signless (and holy shit he has a lusus ! With his blood color ! He misses his mother but he's happy to have a lusus : he never had one before so) learns to shout loudly with Crabdad (lol) and doesn't go out much (bc you know mutant) but when he does everyone he mets is baffled bc he's super nice ?? He's like those people who smile at you on the streets and even if you know you'll never see him again you fell a little pale something. Half of his neighborhood got a little pale crush on him (he's totally oblivious because guess what ! He's still in love with Psii and Disciple). He studies psychology and other alien civilisations online bc he thinks it's interesting. That's all. He gives advices to people (he got a blog. He's pretty famous for his advice ! Both because he's wise and because his advices is always pacifist). He thinks he's in a other universe (again !) and then he discovers the story of the Signless (by sheer luck, since the story has been erased everywhere by the Condesce) and he's just baffled because wow, he's thousands of sweeps in the future ! Wow ! And also because "does that means that the Condesce is the same fucking Condesce that killed me/us ? WHEN WILL SHE DIE". The Psiioniic lives with his bipolar lusus (nothing new, he' s bipolar himself) and is the best hacker of all Alternia (come ON, of course he is !). Every goldblood knows him, there's a rumor (that nobody takes seriously) that he's the reincarnation of the Psiioniic ! (every time Psii hears this rumors he laughs so hard he cries. It's just so... So funny) he uses his skills for hacking more or less everything, subtly attacking the Condesce (nothing major he knows he can't win), fucking with highbloods (and if he specifically targets those cerulean that act like pirates, those indigo with bows, those violets orphaners, that's nobody's business) and search for the others three, because despite thinking he is alone, there's still a spark of hope (honestly, if we're being realist, he probably would have found them in one or two sweeps since he's really good. But that would be too easy ! So no). The Dolorosa is not in the caverns (and is thankful for that, because after a lifetime outside, she isn't ready to go back to this claustrophobic darkness where she would search and never find a hint of candy red). She does clothes. She's very good ans even does clothes for highbloods. She's both respected and feared. There are rumors about her, rumors of white light and stains of cobalt and violet blood on her lipstick. But those are only rumors, right ? It's strange for her to be this young, but it's also good. The Disciple lives in the forest, with her lusus. She's the best huntress ! Tbh she's a bit of a cryptid. People talking about the beast in the woods. Most olive bloods knows it's her ; she's not the first olive to live in the woods after all. She tries to find the remaining signlessists (is that how it's written ?) to 1) check if what they teach is really what Signless taught, because she knows how cults can be and 2) if they still have the right idea, maybe join them. Maybe not. She's not exactly a signlessist, after all.

Let's say it's a no game AU because I don't want them to die. Also, to be clear, I ship Psii/Signless/Disciple as in Psii/Signless + Disciple/Signless. I don't really ship Psii/Disciple, I see them as... Very good chaotic friends with blackflirting, could be pale or black or red but have this sort of "ewww" reaction about dating each other so no.

When they're seven sweeps, their lusus brings home a wiggler that looks exactly like them (everyone reacts differently : Disciple squeals because Nepeta is so cute ! Psiioniic look at Sollux like... What ? Is ? This ? Another Captor disaster ? In this house ? We're doomed. Dolorosa is surprised but well. She already raised a child, and this time her lusus will help. Signless is shocked. Really. He stays silent for hours and maybe cries a little. After a while they all figure out that they're their descendants - that leads to a "wait but if this is my descendant... Am I biologically my own descendant ??" confusion but eh). They're all very fucking surprised but well.

Nepeta grows up with her big Sister Meulin and their shared lusus. She never really understood that having a big sister was weird until she met Equius. After all, three of her friends also had siblings ! She loves her big sister ; Meulin is clever and nice and pretty and strong and she wants to be like her when she grows up ! But sometimes her big sister looks at the red blood of the beasts they kill with sad eyes, sometimes she draws a symbol Nepeta doesn't knows, she never kills bees, she has a lot of respect for the jades, and she hates being alone. Her sister hates loneliness more than anything. Sometimes, even with sopor her sister wakes up crying about people she doesn't knows. But her sister is the best of all. And when she tells Nepeta stories of love and equality, Nepeta listens, and understands.

Sollux grows up with his annoying big brother Mituna. They have this sibling rivalry (some trolls think it's blackflirting - ewww). His brother is the best hacker of Alternia and Sollux thinks he's very cool (even if he will never admit it). Sometimes his brother shakes his hands and legs for hours mumbling strange things (still moving still moving still alive not trapped not a helsman she's not here I'm not here) and touches the back of his neck, as if he expected something to be here. Some days his brother flinches just seeing pink. He spends days searching people online - Sollux thinks it's kinda stupid ; nobody has blood that red. His brother wears a necklace with a symbol that isn't his. He has three sharpies with three colors - Sollux expected yellow and blue and red but those are bright red and olive and jade. Sometimes he draws on his hands with those sharpies - always the same symbols. Sometimes he wakes up screaming and he talks in his sleep - about ships, about pink, about blue arrows and bright red blood and someone that was everything. Sollux doesn't really understands. His brother is sad half of the time, but it's okay, because Sollux isn't better. But he wouldn't have it any other way (he sure would like to do without the voices and the bipolarity and his brother's depression but we can't have everything)

Kanaya thinks her big sister Porrim is very wise. Maybe a bit too much for her age. Sometimes her sister seems very old. Porrim is beautiful ; the prettiest troll Kanaya has ever seen really, but there's a old sadness deep in her bones that's always here. Her big sister always hated the ocean. Most trolls feared it (because of the seadwellers) but her big sister hated it. She had an odd look on her face every time she saw a spider and never wore anything with blue or violet or pink. Her sister had a sad smile when she helped her to do her red skirt. Her sister is wonderful. Almost more like a mother to Kanaya than their actual mother. When Kanaya was little, she told Porrim so. Porrim laughed very hard and maybe cried a little, and Kanaya doesn't remember her answer (I have only one child, little sister, and it isn't you).

Karkat thinks his big brother Kankri was someone else, before he was his big brother. He sees many things on him that shouldn't be here. He sees his big brother rubbing his wrists sometimes, and flinches every time Karkat grabs them (Karkat does it because of that ; he wants his brother to know that he doesn't have to be afraid). His brother can't cook meat, because the scent of burned meat makes him gag and cry and rub his wrists harder. His brother never does anything to the little beehive on their house - he says he likes bees. His brother loves meowbeasts, like Karkat's olive friend. His brother believes in rainbow drinkers - it's strange. Rainbow drinkers doesn't exist after all ! When he was very little, Karkat thought that Kankri was a coward - he never fought anyone and was always talking about peace and equality and love ! Lame. But then when he was four sweeps he told his brother that he wanted to be a threshecutioner and Kankri suddenly looked very afraid. He explained him things ; about their blood, about the empress, about the culling, about equality. After that, Karkat decided that Kankri was cool in a very strange manner, and that peace and equality andd love wasn't that bad after all. Karkat thinks that his brother is one of those heroes we never talk about, and nobody remembers them because they did heroics things without hurting anyone or killing monsters. He thinks that being like his big brother would be nice. He knows he has anger problems, he tries to deal with it (it helps that he isn't the only one, with Sollux being bipolar and Nepeta being autistic). His brother helps him with his quadrant confusion, when he says he has a pale crush on Kanaya but he also has a crush on Nepeta and Sollux but it's like on all quadrants ! (yup I ship them all) his brothers laughs and tells him about his own history with his lovers and how they were everything to him without really being in a quadrant. It... Slightly help (Karkat still thinks his crushes are unrequited. Fool).

Those four little trolls grows up with their lusus and someone else, and it changes little things. Nepeta begins to write books of romance and adventure and she tells stories to those who wants to hear them. Sollux knows he can count on his friends and his brother ; he doesn't have to bear everything alone. Kanaya knows that if she doesn't wants to go to the caverns, her big sister will help her. She doesn't have to be an adult before really being one. Karkat is a pacifist and thinks his shouting skills are actually very useful to scold people (he isn't wrong). He wants to deal with conflicts without violence or blood spilled (especially not his !!!). He's working on his anger. It's hard, but he isn't alone. He told his closest friends about his blood color : Sollux Nepeta and Kanaya (he wanted to tell Gamzee as well but Gamzee can't keep a secret).

Honestly the reunion between the ancestors would be very emotional of course. Like at this point Karkat and Kanaya would totally be moirails and Sollux, Karkat and Nepeta would be dating (after a long chat about the quadrant thing they decided to say fuck the quadrant system). So they would like meet in person and their big brothers/sisters would go with them but like... Just to make sure they're alright you know (alternia is dangerous after all :/). And HERE'S the emotional reunion I guess. I won't write it, I don't know how to. But you see.

My main idea was a Reincarnation AU, then it became "Karkat, Sollux, Nepeta and Kanaya growing up with their ancestors but not as their ancestors and noticing strange things about their siblings". Hope you like it, because I sure do !

[tonystarkbingo]

TSB Mark IV Week 2 Roundup!

This includes the Round Robin fic that several participants wrote as part of our Discord Party, as well as a whole bunch of other amazing works.  Go leave them some love!

Title: Adventures of Tiny Dragon Tony and His Treasure (Loki) - Chapter 41: Snapshot #41: The First of Many Meetings Collaborator: tinydragontony Card Number: 4005 Link: Tumblr Square Filled: T5 - more than a partner Ship: FrostIron Rating: Gen Major Tags: Fluff, first meetings, 5+1 Summary: Here it is, the most requested chapter to date! How Loki met tiny dragon Tony! Word Count: 3300

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Title: Snowed In Collaborator: eachpeachpearplum Card Number: 4003 Link: Tumblr Square Filled: S2 - snowed in Ship: none Rating: Gen Major Tags: snowglobe, possible imprisonment?, art Summary: Tony was just minding his own business, taking a quick zip around the city, just because he can. Next thing he knows, he’s in a glass ball sat on some evildoer’s shelf. To make things worse, he’s not the only one…

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Title: Man on the Run Collaborator: ceealaina Card Number: 4008 Link: Tumblr Square Filled: R1 - Old Team Ship: Background Pepper/Nat, Background IronHusbands Rating: Teen Major Tags: Fluff and Humour, Team as Family, Post-Endgame, Fix-It Summary: Saving the world is important. But Tony really, really just wants to retire and spend time with his family. And if faking his death is the only way to do that, that's how it goes sometimes. Word Count: 1115

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Title: Inktober - Day 19 Collaborator: monobuu Card Number: 4040 Link: Tumblr Square Filled: S3 - AU: Star Wars Ship: WinterIron Rating: Teen Major Tags: Scandalous amount of leg Summary: Uuuuuh. Yeah. (*ﾟ▽ﾟ*)

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Title: Scrunch Me Collaborator: martianwahtney Card Number: 4011 Link: AO3 Square Filled: A2 - Victorious Ship: WinterIron Rating: Gen Major Tags: fluff Summary: 3 times Tony asks Bucky why he wears scrunchies, and 1 time he figured it out for himself Word Count: 995

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Title: The Best Bathtub Collaborator: camichats Card Number: 4049 Link: Tumblr Square Filled: K4 - Kink: Bath/Shower Sex Ship: Tony/Sharon Rating: Mature Major Tags: Minor sexual content, allusions to sugar daddy/baby relationship (though not actually present in the fic) Summary: Sharon is a tough Shield agent and she’s proud of that, but sometimes it’s nice to relax and feel pampered. Word Count: 1649

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Title: Baffled, bewildered and bemused. Collaborator: JehBeeEh Card Number: 4058 Link: AO3 Square Filled: K1 - Learning to be Loved Ship: Stony Rating: Mature Major Tags: Super Fluffy, Implied Sex Summary: Baffled. Bewildered? Perplexed. Tony couldn’t quite figure out which version fit this situation best, but they all seemed to apply. Perplexed seemed a bit much though. Puzzled? Bemused. Word Count: 3197

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Title: wound with your eyes (kill with a smile) - Chapter 3 Collaborator: deathsweetqueen Card Number: 4066 Link: AO3 Square Filled: A5 - Restrained Ship: WinterIron Rating: Mature Major Tags: graphic depictions of violence, Spy Kids AU, Secret Identities, Kidnapping, Indian Tony Stark Summary: Tony Stark and Bucky Barnes were once the renowned superheroes, Iron Man and the Winter Soldier. Eventually, they put aside the masks and the armour to get married and raise a family together. Twelve years later, SHIELD agents go missing, and Tony and Bucky decide to go on their first mission since their eldest child was born. When they're mysteriously kidnapped by a psychotic TV show host, it's hardly a great first step to getting back in the game. The worst thing, though, might be the fact that the only people who can rescue them are their own children. Word Count: 12,872

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Title: with or without his unhallowed touch - Chapter 24 Collaborator: deathsweetqueen Card Number: 4066 Link: AO3 Square Filled: K1 - myths and legends Ship: Tony/Thanos, Stuckony Rating: Explicit Major Tags: Tony is Kidnapped by Thanos, Tony is the Soul Stone, Female Tony Stark, Obsessive Behavior, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Emotional Manipulation, Stockholm Syndrome, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Physical Abuse, Domestic Violence, Forced Relationship, Gaslighting, Rape/Non-con Elements, Warnings for this Chapter: Explicit Violence, Major Character Death, and Cannibalism Summary: Toni sees the Chitauri mothership high above her, sees the hundreds and thousands of warships that circle the Earth, and she knows, she knows. She thinks, oh, I understand. A beat. Her hand burns. Wow, we are so fucked. She lets the bomb slide out of her hands, watches as it floats towards the mothership, and fire rains down on her, even in the dark, pale, cold hollow of space. She laughs, breathlessly, thinks of all the ones who’d loved her the most, and dies. Word Count: 129,402

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Title: What We Do in the Tower Collaborator: newnewyorker93, rebelmeg Card Number: 4042, 4034  Link: AO3 Square Filled: S2 - Forcibly Adopted (4042) A5 - WTF (4034) Ship: Peter & Tony, Pepperony Rating: Gen Major Tags: Vampire AU, Avengers family, crack and humor, unapologetic cherry-picking of vampire lore Summary: Peter Parker has been having an awkward time as a brand new vampire. But now he's got Tony Stark whisking him off to meet a whole group of weird and hilarious vampires that live in Stark Tower and maybe this won't be so bad after all? Word Count: 5185

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Title: Prince Tony and the Red Headed Princess Collaborator: PoliZ Card Number: 4007 Link: AO3 Square Filled: K2 - AU: Fairy Tale Ship: Pepperony Rating: Gen Major Tags: fairytale elements, domestic fluff Summary: Morgan asks her daddy for a bedtime story with knights and monsters, and wizards and princesses.  With some help from Pepper, Tony is happy to oblige. Word Count: 866

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Title: A Bottle and a Half of Whiskey Later - An 1872 Playlist Collaborator: moosh Card Number: 4037 Link: Tumblr Square Filled: S5 - Canon: 1872 Ship: None Rating: Gen Major Tags: Playlist Summary: A playlist based off some of the songs that Tony sang in the comic. Word Count: N/A

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Title: The Gift of Jab Collaborator: dracusfyre Card Number: 4032 Link: AO3 Square Filled: A2 - Dares/Bets Ship: WinterIron Rating: Gen Major Tags: Pre-Relationship, Sparring Summary: For the ImagineTonyandBucky prompt: Hi! I'm always up for some sparring hotness, so how about Tony being present for physical training sessions (working/watching), but says no everytime Nat/Clint/Steve/etc invites him to do it. Rhodey laughing every time the team says that it's bc Tony doesn't want to embarass himself. Bucky suspects his BF is actually well-versed in hand-to-hand/martial arts/self-defense; so he gives himself the challenge of getting Tony onto the mat. When he does he ends up a)on the floor & b)really aroused. The fill is less horny than the prompt, sorry. Word Count: 2453

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Title: Lady in Red Collaborator: JehBeeEh Card Number:  4058 Link: AO3 Square Filled: A5 - Steve Rogers/Captain America Ship: Stony Rating: Mature Major Tags: Summary: “I GOT SCARED, ALRIGHT?”“Steve, sweetheart-"Steve kept pacing their room like he hadn’t even heard her. “I got so scared, you have no idea. And I know, okay. I know you can take care of yourself, and you don’t need me to save you or protect you, and it is sexy as all hell, but in that moment, I forgot all about that, and I was scared that I couldn’t protect you.” He collapsed on the bed, elbows on his knees and his head in his hands and Toni could hear him take long slow breaths.This had definitely not been how Toni envisioned their return home going. Word Count: 1176

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Title: i come as a woman, dark and open Collaborator: simi Card Number: 4066 Link: AO3 Square Filled: A5 - Resolve Ship: Toni/Steve/Bucky Rating: E Major Tags: Female Tony Stark, Regency AU, Misogyny, Racism, Explicit Sexual Content, Emotional Infidelity, Slurs, Marital Dissatisfaction. Summary: When Toni first meets Captain Steve Rogers at one of the biggest gatherings of the season, she is not impressed. On the other hand, his best friend, the charming James ‘Bucky’ Barnes, was an utter delight. Unfortunately for her, after a series of misunderstandings at said party, she is forced to accept Steve’s hand in marriage in order to save her family’s reputation. And while Toni never expected a fairy tale, she had always hoped that companionship would one day turn into something more. How was she to know that Steve was just as charmed by Bucky as she was? a.k.a. Steve and Toni get married to each other; there are more misunderstandings; Bucky is an absolute delight and possibly the saving grace for their marriage; and somehow, all three end up falling in love with each other in the process. Word Count: 25, 335

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Title: TSB October Discord Party Round Robin Fic Collaborators: rebelmeg 4034 Politzania 4007 EachPeachPearPlum 4003 summerpipedream 4045 Ducky 4013 Magica 4019 SomeSortofItalianRoast 4036 DarthBloodOrange 4010 Link: AO3 Square Filled: rebelmeg: A4 - Huddling for Warmth Politzania: A5 - Dog Park EachPeachPearPlum: S1 - Premonitions summerpipedream: A5 - Clint Barton/Hawkeye Ducky: R5 - Fortune Telling Magica: T2 - Fortitude SomeSortofItalianRoast: S2 - Magic DarthBloodOrange: T4 - Robots Ship: None Rating: Teen Major Tags: animal transformation, magic/witchcraft, Kate is a hero, Clint is a disaster human being Summary: Tony has been turned into a dog, and he is going to straight-up murder whoever made him a corgi. Word Count: 2634

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Title: I Know You Collaborator: iam93percentstardust Card Number: 4012 Link: AO3 Square Filled: R5 - Sam Wilson/Falcon Ship: IronFalcon Rating: Gen Major Tags: Established Relationship, Domestic Fluff, Sickfic Summary: When Tony gets sick and hides away from everyone else, it's up to Sam to find his wayward boyfriend. Good thing he knows him so well. Word Count: 1316

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Title: Thriller - Michael Jackson Collaborator: monobuu Card Number: 4040  Link: AO3 Square Filled: A5 - Murderchildren Ship: None Rating: Teen Major Tags: Creepy?  Summary: N/A Word Count: N/A

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Title: I’ll keep your brittle heart warm Collaborator: peachy Card Number: 4017  Link: AO3 Square Filled: K3 - Protectiveness Ship: Stony Rating: Teen Major Tags: Breaking up and making up, fluff, getting back together Summary: They got married when they were young, just twenty-four years old, despite the arguments from their friends that they should wait, that neither of them were ready for a commitment like marriage so young. Steve distinctly remembered Sam pointing out that the male brain isn’t even fully developed until age twenty-five. But they were young and passionate, so sure they’d found their perfect person that they could overcome anything and everything life threw at them. And it was true. For six months. Word Count: 4223

[evilwickedme]

ok, sorry if this is a stupid question, but i wanted to ask a jewish person bc i thought u might have some insight. whats the deal with ben shapiro, and other jewish people like him who are buddy buddy with the American far right? like, im honestly baffled??? why would someone shoot themselves in the foot like that?

I was gonna reply to this with “because people are stupid” but I decided to give this question some serious thought.

I think it’s a combination of two things: willful disregard of anything that doesn’t fit in their worldview, and the genuine lack of space for Zionist Jews in the left.

If you need any proof that the left is intolerant regarding Zionist Jews, you need to look no further than the current Demi Lovato scandal, who simply visited Israel and was baptized. She was then accused of promoting genocide, and criticized when she pointed out - in my opinion, rightfully - that people are constantly criticizing her for everything she does that isn’t 100% perfect. I’m not even a Demi stan - as many of you are probably aware, I’m a die-hard Taylor Swift fan, and I think she’s honestly got some issues regarding her treatment of Taylor and various other women that make me dislike her - but this showcases how every mention of Israel must be prefaced in the left with “no, I don’t support mass murder!!! Israelis are actually Nazis!!!! The American government FORCED Jews into a land that wasn’t theirs despite the innocent Palestinians who had been living throughout that land for ever and ever!!!!”* or its inherently evil, even when a fucking pop star just visits the country. (Believe it or not, pop stars aren’t politicians, and this isn’t their area of expertise.) I don’t think I need to get into why this is wrong, infantalizing for Palestinians, or antisemitic on this post - you’ve all heard my opinions on this issue, probably dozens of times. But if a goyische pop star receives this, imagine the hate that Jewish people feel.

(* Actual claims I saw in a facebook post regarding the Demi scandal the other day, quoted almost word for word.)

So you’re already feeling pretty otherized by the left, and you’re lucky enough to be a pale-skinned Jew. You’re desperate to hold on to your privilege, because let’s be real here, Jewish light-skinned privilege is only going to last so long in this political climate. So you veer right - hard. And the space your in welcomes you in a way leftist spaces never will, with open arms, because the right wing needs its token Jews the same way the left wing does, but without the open hostility. “Anything you feel is correct,” the right says; “you need to reconsider everything about your life,” the left says. So even though right-wing Zionism is motivated by antisemitism, even though in the end, the politics you’re spewing will backfire on you, even though none of this is supported by your culture, your religion, or your history, you end up being being Ben Shapiro, because it’s easy.

Ben Shapiro wants to be white. He’s heterosexual, he’s a cishet man, his life is easy, and it would be so much easier if he were white, too, so he pretends he is, and to get into the club - the way all the other pickmes and token minorities do - they espouse shit that doesn’t actually help them at all, because that’s the only way they see to get in.

Also, for the record, not a stupid question at all.

[jihyosforehead]

Hey, I really like your writing and was wondering if you could do a NaMo reverse fake dating au please. Thanks.

yas i gotchu anon omafdf thank uwuuuuu im always so emo when ppl tell me they like my writing thank uUUUU

namo would so be the type to be obnoxiously affectionate; calling each other next level annoying pet names. nayeon will come home and slam the front door open, arms spread over her head and is loudly like “where is my peanut butter blossom, sugar plum, honeysuckle dewdrop !”

and this is such a regular occurrence that everyone is completely unphased. jihyo not even looking up from her phone tells her, “she’s in the shower.”

and nayeons the eyeball emoji, “time to join the love of my life, my sunchip, my moonlight, my angel- ” and then nayeon yelps loudly when jeongyeon stands up with a pillow ready to launch it across the room, nayeon’s already darting away, giggling the whole time.

they’re like puppies, always crawling all over each other, constantly touching, holding hands, napping together, never outside of arms’ reach. that one movie night, sana and dahyun were concerned cos momo and nayeon were next to each other but aren’t touching.

(it’s too dark to see, but nayeon has hooked her pinky around momo’s tiny babie one cos it’s too hot to cuddle, honestly it’s too hot to even be linking pinkies but nayeon is w h i p p e d).

“what the hell are you doing in the kitchen? jihyo is going to kick your ass,” chaeyoung says, when she finds nayeon in there one morning trying to cook something. keyword: trying.

(the only reason why she’s not allowed in there is cos she burnt water. like one time. clearly she hasn’t lived it down yet).

“momo wanted some noodles but she cooked last time so im trying to be fair,” nayeon tells her seriously, frowning while holding up the empty ramen packet, “hey do you know if i should put an egg in this?” chaeyoung ends up taking over bc nayeon almost sets her shirt on fire twice :///

the pet names have slowly escalated to ones that momo had been using ironically (babes, dear, honey, sweetie). and it’s gotten to a point where they don’t even address each other by their actual names anymore. their members are used to it; tzuyu didn’t even bat an eyelash when momo asked, “where’s my darling?” with a straight face, sounding like some honest to god cowboy.

“hey momo, i want to introduce you to this person, i think you guys would make a good match,” jihyo says one day out of the blue, over dinner. momo looks at jihyo strangely, nayeon’s hand freezes midway to her mouth, chopsticks still holding a piece of cabbage.

momo tilts her head at jihyo but doesn’t say anything, and jihyo continues, “they own a restaurant and also have a background in dancing. you guys have lots in common already!”

“…but i’m already dating nayeon.”

at mention of her name, nayeon perks up eagerly, a dumb smile already on her face. jihyo and the rest of their members look at the two and laugh.

“yeah true, there’d be no time for them outside of nayeon anyways,” jeong points out playfully between giggles, “they’re married.”

“i’d like to think so,” nayeon says with a triumphant sniff, and eats her food. momo gives her an indulgent smile.

and that was that… or so namo thought.

mihyun are hanging out in the maknae room, and they come out to find namo just going at it in the living room. their jaws drop.

“what the hell!”

namo jump apart and have the grace to look abashed, “sorry, we forgot you guys were home,” momo mutters under her breath, nayeon is too busy hiding her face in momo’s neck, the tips of her ears are bright red.

mina is looking between them confused, and dahyun has gone a worrying shade of pale, “you guys are dating?”mina manages to get out.

namo exchange baffled expressions and then slowly, “…yes?”

mihyun go back to the maknae room without getting the things they were supposed to get because they got distracted. by the namo.

3mix had a different event to go to that day and were getting ready to leave, or, at least 2/3 of them were trying to leave. jihyo was trying her best to chase nayeon out of the house but nayeon was stubbornly insistent on waiting for momo to come home, and had latched herself to the countertop like a whole child.

momo eventually comes rushing through the door, school meal club on her heels and 2na not far behind.

nayeon squeals happily (as if they don’t see each other everyday lmao) throws her arms around momo’s neck and is like, “angel cakes!” and then plants the biggest smooch on momo’s lips, momo’s pleasantly surprised at the enthusiastic welcome, and happily kisses back.

their members are just kind of watching in shock, jeonghyo’s mouths opening and closing like fish.

“we are gonna talk about this later,” jihyo sighs at namo exasperatedly, she’s not sure where to begin, but when her brain reboots itself, she says, “we’re going to be late. come on, lets go lets goooo!” she pulls 2yeon out by their sleeves, nayeon’s trying in vain to hang onto momo and pressing more kisses wherever she can reach. but eventually they finally leave.

sachaetzu turn to momo and are like, “the heck dude??? ??/?”

and momo’s super nonchalant, “we’ve been dating for ages, idk how you haven’t noticed.”

“you idiots are always cuddling!” (tzuyu, whining cutely) “…omg no wonder nayeonnie wouldn’t let me kiss her,” (sana, despondent) “i just thought this was just how you guys acted around each other!!” (chaeyoung, shookt); mihyun on the side torn between laughing and also still not over namo being a thing™

“we were really obvious though?” momo says, still confused.

“is it being obvious if you’ve always been this way even as trainees?” dahyun says pointedly. momo frowns.

meanwhile, 3mix:

“i can’t believe you guys kept this from us,” jihyo mutters under her breath, sounding hurt, jeongyeon nodding in agreement beside her.

nayeon’s looking at them helplessly, and then says, “what do u mean?? we haven’t really been subtle though??”

theres a weird awkwardness between the three of them the whole shoot and it’s throwing nayeon off her game bc nine years of friendship shouldn’t be so heavy, and then jihyo looks at nayeon kind of seriously, “i can’t believe you guys call each other sugar plum unironically.”

and just like that, the awkwardness is broken, jeongyeon is unable to contain her loud laugh. nayeon manages to look relieved and annoyed and happy at the same time lmao.

dinner that night is mostly a lot of ribbing from their members; most of it disbelief at their pet names.

[moss-sauce]

OCtober day 10 is memes. i am so sorry for this. the only reason i am posting it is bc i know my friends willnot ridicule me for it

unlike tin @canadiangold

“Why do they just stand there like that after you hit them when they’re ‘asleep’?”

“Uh. What?”

Max elaborates. “You’ve never noticed that? Hush hits them with a Sleep Arrow to make things easier, then we both chip in at damaging the thing while it just kind of stands there menacingly.”

“I...guess I haven’t?” Tinleah utters.

“Well, then, when we inevitably attract the attention of our favorite adapting robo-farmers, I’ll have to show you what I mean.”

The mission on Lua is a simple one, as always: help sway the battle’s victory to one side, find Orokin caches along the way. Tinleah was supposed to act indifferent between Corpus and Grineer, but would somehow, always, miss a shot that was intended for a Trooper and land it on a MOA instead.

Max, fortunately, did not seem to notice, or at least didn’t bring it up.

“They’re sure taking their time, this go,” Max snorts from beside Hush, peering around a jagged chunk of plaster and chucking little stones to distract the distant Corpus units. Trouvaille crouches near them, awaiting a command.

“For real. They usually--” The lights flicker tellingly, the eerie reverberating groan resonates throughout the area. “Ah. Seems they can tell when they’re being spoken of.”

“Right on time.”

A pair of Oculysts descend, beginning their idle search of the area as they hum breathily and scan.

“Want me to just take a potshot at one, to alert them?” Tinleah asks, already scoping in on the blue ghostly figures.

Max doesn’t answer.

Max isn’t next to her anymore.

“For crying out loud, girl,” Tin groans, slinging herself back into Transference within Datura.

Max is sauntering up to the scouts casually, right behind their backs.

“What are you doing?” Tinny hisses to her.

“They can’t hurt anything,” Max shrugs. “Apparently they can’t hear well, either.”

“Okay, cool. What happens when they turn around and find you? What then?”

One of the Oculysts spins on its spindly feet, almost taken aback at the lifeform behind it. It meticulously begins to scan Max, as it does with all things it finds.

“I, uh,” Max pauses. A blue outline of her form appears, showing that the scan is progressing.

So what does she do, when faced with two scouts that could readily summon hardy, adapting warriors that can deal deadly damage?

“This is Maxis we’re talking about,” Solise laments, seeming to have read her mind.

“Maxis, get out,” Tin huffs exasperatedly.

Hush seems to know what’s going on. Of course she does, it’s her Operator. If it was possible, Hush would have a deadpan, tired look in her eyes. She still seems to convey the feeling as she waves a hand in her direction, signaling that the point is useless to push.

Indeed, what does Max do?

She stupidly crooks her arms skyward at an angle, covering her face as her head tilts down.

“Oh, by the Void, Tinleah, you couldn’t have chosen better?” Solise chides with no real venom in her voice. 

Hush doesn’t react. She’s used to it. Trouvaille seems to be read to leap in if necessary. Tinleah is absolutely dumbfounded.

A pale blue outline of Max’s body forms in the air as the Oculyst finishes its scan. Max skitters back to her friends and Warframe hurriedly as they rocket off into the sky.

“Anyways, yeah. Those dudes will stand there like this,” she holds her arms straight out to her side in a perfect ‘t’ shape. “And they just chill until you kill them or they wake up.” As if she hadn’t just done that. 

“You are simply…” Baffling? Stupid? Careless? Reckless? Moronic? “Astonishing. You know that? You just dabbed at a Sentient. You know how long it’s been since the Origin System has seen a dab?”

“Not that long.”

[impulseislost]

If this is the end (3)

Warnings: swearing again, minor (v minor) violence, gun threats bc i apparently can’t be nice to felix, mentions of injury and pain and i think thats it

Word count: 3671 :s

Midnight

Shock blew through his system.

Why? Why this of all the things life had to throw at them? Why did it have to be Felix holding the gun to Jeongin’s head? Who thought this would ever be okay?

This wouldn’t be okay, no one would be okay with this. Woojin could already see it.

From where he stood, the man could see Jeongin struggling against Felix, trying to force himself out of the other’s arms, trying to force the elder’s arms away from his neck. Woojin could see he was struggling.

Worry filled his veins as Felix cocked his gun, an eyebrow raising on his head as it was pressed harsher into Jeongin’s temple.

“Well?” Woojin averted his eyes, looking to the younger in worry, as Chan sighed and ordered them to stand down. No. No! How could he do that?

Their youngest was in danger - literally had a gun to his head - and Chan was making them stand down? There was a scoff, drawing Woojin’s attention once again to Felix as the man stared down at them in displeasure.

“Good boy. Now, How about you tell me who sent you here and baby over here doesn’t get hurt. Understood?” Woojin glanced at Chan again, silently begging. He couldn’t bear to lose another member after all.

Chan gritted his teeth as Woojin watched before he slowly opened his mouth with a sigh.

“We were sent here by Major Park Jinyoung.” He muttered angrily. Woojin glanced away, casting his eyes to the ground with a quiet sigh before he glanced up to notice Minho looking around cautiously.

The younger caught his eye and paled, before shaking his head. To say Woojin was confused was the least of it. It wasn’t as if Minho had any way of stopping Jeongin from getting shot.

Did he?

Woojin glanced away, looking to Chan for help.

“‘Course you did. Companies can’t stay out of other people’s business can they?” Woojin’s eyes flickered back to Felix with a frown. The blonde was standing in a more relaxed position now, like he knew he had the win here.

One hip was cocked and the gun was relaxed slightly.

“Whatever, I just need you guys gone. You’re just going to get in the way.” There was a whimper of ‘Felix’ from someone around him, Jisung or Jeongin he thought. Felix’s eyes narrowed, his stance changing.

Woojin swallowed, glancing around again, looking around for Ji-- Wait.

Where was Minho?

Quiet footsteps sounded next to him, the sounds of quiet breaths next to his ear and the feeling of a warm body hugging him. Before it left him. Beside him, he saw Jisung react, a hand raising to his chest to touch something in the air before he dropped it looking baffled.

“What do you mean ‘we’re just going to get in the way’?” Jeongin whimpered quietly, barely loud enough for Woojin to hear. Felix’s grip tightened.

“None of your business.” He snapped. A pile of rocks moved behind Felix, pebbles scattering as if someone had kicked them. The blondes head jerked, glancing behind him to see the nothingness before returning to the front.

“You just nee--” There was the whoosh sound of a hilt changing forms and Minho appeared behind him. Literally, just out of thin air. The young man’s hilt - In the shape of some form of gun, Woojin actually wasn’t too sure from here - rested against Felix’s head.

“Sup.” The air froze almost. How the fuck had Minho gotten there?

“You wouldn't risk shooting me.” Felix hissed, tilting his head slightly to stare at Minho and pressing the gun further into Jeongin’s head. Minho rolled his eyes, his gaze meeting Woojin’s with a grin.

“You’re right. I won’t. Can’t say the same for anyone else though.” The elder chirped with a smile, lowering his hilt down to waist level, “Besides. It’s not a gun.”

The weapon pressed into the younger’s side with a sharp buzz and Felix fell to the ground, writhing. “It’s a taser.” Minho’s hilt changed form again, in a plethora of lines as he touched it to Felix again.

Jeongin fell free of Felix’s grasp with a squeak.

“If anyone's an Athnari, now would be a good time for you to come forward about it.” Minho muttered removing his hilt to place a knee behind Felix’s shoulders as he spasmed, “Because otherwise, I’m just going to have to keep tasing him.”

A moment passed, then Hyunjin broke out of whatever stupor he was in, drawing Woojin’s attention.

“Hyung what the fuck!? You’re hurting him!” He screeched. Minho shrugged, gently pushing Jeongin in Woojin’s direction. The boy fell into the elder’s arms with a muffled whimper as Minho taped his hilt to Felix’s shoulder again.

“That’s kinda the point. He was holding a gun to Jeongin’s head in case you haven’t noticed.” Hyunjin made an aggravated noise as Minho stepped back from the now panting boy. A moment passed, with Woojin just taking in the general weirdness of the situation before anyone moved.

“Right uh, well…. That’s not what I planned at all. But this will do. Seungmin, can you uh... Fuck.” Chan pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes with a barely disguised groan.

Honestly? Chan was a living mood for Woojin right now.

“Someone just bind his wrists or something. Minho… Uh... Yea, talk to me about this later.” There was another sigh from Woojinas he went through his kit bag for bandages or something. Those could do for ropes for now he assumed. He didn’t care enough to try find anything else anyway.

A quiet laugh emanated from Minho as the younger saluted Chan with a grim smile.

“Fair enough.” Woojin frowned, quietly tying the blond on the ground up. Damn it Minho, now he was going to have to deal with an unconscious Felix for the return trip - Not his favourite past time by far. He glanced at Chan, who’s hand was pressed against his temples as he spoke into the air.

Probably calling for backup then. Great, exactly what Kim Woojin wanted in his life. The brown haired man tested the bonds around Felix’s wrists carefully before nodding and standing.

That’d have to do.

His fingers ached. But that always happened when he used it. His fingers went numb for the duration, barely usable at times, and then feeling returned to them - always in the shape of pain.

Pain like the one in his heart that told him that the boy in the holding cell of the ship wasn’t Felix any more. Appearance-wise, maybe he was Felix.

But Minho knew that no one in their team would hold a gun against someone’s head.

He wasn’t sure why the others seemed to grasp that Felix wasn’t their Felix. He was a stranger.

An Imposter.

Like the ones that his old ma--- Old Boss had given him as ‘friends’ once upon a time. The ones that reported his every mistake.

He didn’t want to think about that right now. Thinking about that only brought him problems.

Perhaps he had used the taser too long on Felix. But that wasn’t his problem. He knew how much Felix could physically take. He’d trained with the boy long enough after all.

Across from him, Jeongin sat staring at Minho with a blank expression. He’d been doing this for a while now. Just staring at Minho.

He wasn’t sure why, nor did he care. But it was a thing. If anything it was probably just over his disappearing trick a while ago anyway.

Minho didn’t feel like explaining, hell he didn’t even know why he could do it. It just… Happened.

“Hyung.” Minho hummed in response, glancing away from the window he was looking out of. There wasn’t anything interesting in space anyway, seeing as though space was always the same.

The same empty night sky, time and time again. There was never anything different.

“Hyung. What was that, back on Elantra? When you vanished?” There it was, the question Minho had been dreading from Jeongin. How could he answer, when he didn’t even know the answer himself?

“What do you mean what was it?” He glanced at the younger boy, leaning back in his chair to appear more relaxed. Anything to appear more confident after all. A lazy smirk rested on his lips.

“What was it? How did you do that?” Minho tapped his lips, glancing around.

“That, my dear Jeonginnnie, is a trade secret.” Jeongin looked frustrated with him. But that was fine. He didn’t ask any further at least. Minho hoped Jeongin had guessed he wasn’t sharing anymore.

He leaned back again, staring at the ceiling and listening to the low murmuring of the ship around him. He was almost dozing off when Jeongin spoke up again. Quiet, and nervous.

“Do you think Felix hyung will be alright?” Minho blinked an eye open, gazing blearily at the younger. Then he shrugged.

“Dunno. Maybe.” He couldn’t bring himself to crush Jeongin’s bubble of hope. If he wanted Felix to be the actual Felix then he would move heaven and hell to make it so. He’d do anything for those boys after all.

An alert sounded through the air, warning them they were close to docking. Minho sighed, sitting forwards in his chair again to stretch. Out the window, the docking bay came into view and with a quiet sigh, Minho resigned himself to spending more time in his room.

His fingers were still numb.

There was a loud beeping, and the announcement to stay seated before the ship docked sounded, and Minho could stand up safely. He stood, stretching his back out with a quiet sigh and glancing back at Jeongin.

“Whatever happens, I’m sure everything will be fine.” Minho murmured.

Jeongin let out a nervous chuckle as he shrugged.

“Doesn’t mean it’s any less painful to see him like that.” He whispered quietly. Minho nodded. He understood after all. A door opened, with Chan appearing in the hall.

“There you two are, come on. Time to come out.” If Minho recalled correctly, Chan had recalled them, after talking to Major Jinyoung. Apparently seeing Felix again was enough of a reason for them to go home.

Great.

He was fine with this. The dancer nodded, reaching for his bag before and stepping out into the hall past Chan. The interior of the ship was boring. Just a few rooms connected by hallways, the bridge, cargo bay and a large room that served as a general living area.

It was meant for travel, not comfort he guessed. Honestly, he could care less about it anyway.

Minho let his feet lead him out of the ship and into the docking bay. People roamed around, some condensing around other members of the team.

Jeongin was leaning on Chan when they exited the ship and were surrounded by Jaebum and some of his team. Really, everyone had someone with them at that moment.

He let himself disappear, sneaking away from the crowds to the door. The halls were more quiet, almost empty to be truthful. That was fine.

He let his feet lead him towards the training grounds. Then allowed himself to become visible again. His fingers were numb.

Few people looked at him as he passed them by, heading for the sim rooms. A hand caught his arm. He glanced back, catching Jihyo’s look with a frown.

“You should be more careful with that.” She murmured, her brows furrowing, “It hurts doesn’t it?” Minho frowned at her. What was she on about?

She smiled ruefully at him.

“I’ve seen you, or perhaps haven’t seen you would be a more fitting description in this regard. You need to be more careful. It may be a slight pain now, but it will get much worse if you’re not cautious.” Jihyo whispered, before tilting her head at him and taking in his confused expression. A moment passed before she frowned. “You don’t understand do you?”

Minho shook his head, looking at her blankly. She sighed, striding forwards and pulling him into one of the empty sim rooms nearby. The door locked with a click.

“Noona what are you..?” She shushed him quickly, holding a finger to her lips before vanishing. Minho froze, looking bewildered. What. The fuck?

She reappeared a moment later, a pained expression on her face as she rubbed her wrist. 

“Understand now?” His lips parted as he took a step back.

“I...Kinda? What…?” She let out a tired sigh.

“You really have no clue do you.” Minho shook his head. Pity filled Jihyo’s eyes, and Minho hated it. He’d seen that look far too many times.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled as she sighed again, watching Minho with that pitying look.

“No no, Don’t worry about it Minho, just… Be more cautious with that.” Her voice trailed off to a whisper as she placed a hand on his shoulder before taking a step back and opening the door to leave. Leaving Minho to wonder about what exactly he’d just been through.

His body hurt. Like someone had just taken a taser to his side, which… He supposed someone had. The boy with cat eyes he thought.

He wasn’t entirely sure how that boy had gotten behind him either. Right now it wasn’t important.

He was in a chair. White, no bindings and leant back far enough that he was practically lying down. The room around him was white also, a singular window gracing the wall behind him with a view into a fake sky. The room was empty, save for the chair-bed-thing, and a screen on a wall adjacent to the window displaying medical info.

There were two air vents (Far too small for him to crawl through he noted) and the window was probably a screen set into a wall with a backing of space of some description.

The door was locked, he’d checked that earlier when he’d first woken. There was no way to escape that the boy could think of, with his oh so scrambled brain, that wouldn’t result in him dying.

So he lay in the chair-bed-thing watching the medical screen with a bored expression.

It had info he already knew; his age, height, blood type weight and all that crap. But where the normal code the company used for him (Or the nickname he was often given) usually was, was instead an actual name. It was weird, to see something of than LFD900 on data.

Hell, he wasn’t even sure who Lee Felix was.

It was familiar somehow, but he didn’t have a clue how though. A lot of things had been like that recently.

The region of Elantra he’d been in, that had been familiar. Along with the group of boy’s, soldiers he supposed, (he didn’t care at this point.) that had captured him.

That was rather ironic really, running away from one company, just to get captured by another. The boy sighed, glancing at the door with a frown. He supposed being isolated inside a room was much better than being continually lied to by his superiors.

The door let out a beep rather suddenly before it slid open. He sat up straight, watching as a tired looking young man, the leader of the group from before, entered the room with a slight bow to someone outside. The man smiled at him a moment later.

“Hey. Been a while, hasn’t it Lix?” The boy tilted his head, staring blankly at the blonde man in front of him as he stared at him expectantly. The boy raised an eyebrow after a moment, expecting the man to carry on with an explanation or a sike. He frowned when nothing more was said, as instead, the man’s smile fell away.

“Felix?” There was that name again. The strangely familiar one, that he was sure meant something to someone, or to him. He just couldn’t place how.

“I don’t know who this Felix is. I think you have the wrong person.” He responded curtly. The man’s face fell again.

“But that’s…? Felix what, this joke isn’t funny.” The boy raised an eyebrow at the man’s insistence. It was honestly kind of pathetic.

“If I were joking you’d be able to tell. Whoever this Felix person is, they clearly mean a lot to you, but that’s not me.” The man’s face fell.

“Then… What’s your name?” The boy shrugged.

“Don’t have one. People just called me Freckles or Nines instead.” He didn’t explain why. He didn’t need to after all. The man frowned before glancing at the screen in front of Felix.

“I know you don’t think you’re Felix, but… We don’t manually fill those in. Those come from a database.” The boy squinted at him. This man was just trying to fuck with him, wasn’t he?

“So?” The man sighed at the boy’s insistence, motioning for him to follow the man as he opened the door again. The boy rose from the chair quickly.

They left the room into a dull corridor, setting off a sense of Deja vu as the boy looked around. He’d been here before? He couldn’t have been. The boy was lead maybe ten meters to another door, which opened at their approach.

Inside the second room was much the same as the one The boy had just been in, save…. The screen was empty. It didn’t change as they walked in, only offering out a DNA scanner from the base as the man approached it. He sighed, placing a hand on it and wincing.

The screen flickered for a moment before the display changed. Age, Height, blood type, all the usual stuff. The name labelling the info was Bang Chan. So at least the boy had a name to give the man now.

“See what I mean?” The boy furrowed his eyebrows, motioning for Bang Chan to move aside and give him a try. The man stepped aside with a shrug, as if he was saying ‘if you want’. The boy nodded to himself.

He’d prove Bang Chan wrong. He wasn’t Felix after all (He ignored the little voice in his head that asked him, what if?). With a deep breath, he placed his hand on the scanner, barely hissing when the machine took a sample of his flesh, as he watched the screen.

It flickered, then began to fill itself out. Age, height, blood type, weight and all. Then that name again. Lee Felix was back on the screen.

Fuck.

He took a step back from the screen, examining it with a frown.

“Do… You have any pictures of this Felix?” He asked Chan quietly, staring at the screen with a frown. Honestly, how the fuck is that even--

“Yea, of course.” there was a pause before an image appeared in the air before them, projected off Bang Chan’s database.

The picture featured a blonde haired boy, along with two black haired boys and a boy with red hair. The boy ignored the other people in the picture, focusing instead on the blonde boy.

He was laughing, clearly enjoying the moment, with an arm wrapped around the tallest of the boys as he seemed to struggle to stay upright. The picture only showed the boys from the waist up, and the detailing made it clear the picture was at least a year old.

The boy squinted, examining the picture with a frown. Why wouldn’t he? In the picture was an exact replica of his face after all.

Did that really mean that he was this Felix person? He didn’t want to find out but if he could…

The boy - No, Felix, he wanted to be this Felix - took a deep breath, nodding slowly.

“Alright. Alright. I’ll believe you.” Bang Chan’s face lit up with a bright smile, offering out a hand.

“Great! And now that we’ve made that clear. My name’s Chan, and it’s uh… Good to have you back Lix.” It was so very weird for him, even if this was strangely familiar, to be called an actual name.

He kind of liked it, wanted to keep it even.

Nines was gone, replaced by Felix. He would make sure of it.

“So what you’re telling me, if I’m hearing this right Chan, is that this boy is supposedly Felix?” Major Park Jinyoung asked as he massaged his fingers into his temples, leaning back in his chair with a sigh. Around the table sat a few other people, seeing as they related to the problem in some way.

Jaebum, Woojin and Youngjae sat to Chan’s left and on his right sat the medical experts of other teams; Wonpil, Mina, Yuna and the younger Jinyoung. Yuna was resting her head on the table, watching Chan with a blank look.

It reminded him that the girl was only 16 still.

“Yes. I checked twice with a med room Sir,” Major Park sighed.

“Well, congratulations for finding him, I suppose. The next problem is what we’re going to do with him.” Woojin raised his hand then, waiting until Major Park nodded at before he spoke.

“If possible, we could try to reintroduce him into his old life. According to the medical data, he has no trauma other than a severe case of amnesia. My hypothesis is that what is affecting him is something similar to what happened to Youngjae sunbaenim.” There was a quiet whimper from Youngjae as he stiffened, looking at Jaebum in worry.

Major park frowned, leaning forward to peer at both Woojin and Chan.

“Are you certain you and your team could handle it?” Chan paused before glancing at Jaebum, Youngjae and Jinyoung all in turn.

“I believe so Sir.” The Major frowned once more before nodding.

“Very well. If this goes badly you are aware that you’re responsible, no?” Chan and Woojin nodded, eliciting a sigh from the elder, “Fine. I’ll allow this. On the condition that you check in with Jaebum and the rest of his team weekly to keep track of his rehab.”

[fidgetheart]

Love Me , Fight Me? ❤️

*cracks knuckles* 

okay! so, this drabble is featuring my og ocs from a WIP story called Bloodline! bc of that, I wanna preface it with some explanations real fast to (hopefully) prevent any confusion! tho, if any of y’all of questions, pls feel free to send them to me :3c

anyway, Bloodline takes place on a moon called Tahra, which orbits a gas giant called Lamarr. There are two other moons (Darwin and Fazlur) that orbit Lamarr, and overall, there are two suns instead of one, and they’re called Lam 1 and Lam 2. Tahra has one continent with a few islands around it, but is completely covered in water otherwise - the continent itself is pretty big, but not enough to nearly encircle the moon, if that makes sense

All four planetary bodies are named after gods, so you’ll see the names used in place of God, hell, etc. so: “Oh my Lamarr” is the equivalent to “Oh my god”, and “go to Darwin” is equivalent to “go to hell” bc Darwin is a dead moon 

deities are basically demigods, and the gods are… well, gods, and then you got regular people. deities have powers, but they pale in comparison to the gods, and they aren’t immortal, but they do have an increased lifespan

I actually got a sideblog for this (@bloodlinetrilogy), but I mostly just have a few moodboards and a couple of drawings o:

sdfjhsdfh right, anyway, the drabble is under the cut!! also it came out a hella lot longer than I intended whoops

major angst warning too

Love Me

“Looks like Arthfael’s got a crush.” Jocosa let out a snort, leaning back in her seat as she glanced toward her girlfriend, swallowing a giggle. “I’ve never seen him look so smitten.”

A bark of laughter escaped Eliza’s mouth and she shook her head, grinning as she quirked an eyebrow. “Jo, Arth hasn’t left her side since she arrived - you honestly think it’s just a crush?”

Jocosa couldn’t help but roll her eyes, glancing back toward the couple in question. She didn’t miss the way Arthfael was gazing at Elise, staring at her as if she were Lamarr herself, and she certainly didn’t miss the way Elise’s hand was resting on his. It was clear it was more than just a fleeting crush between the two, but… it was strange.

“You expect me to believe he’s fallen completely in love with a stranger?” She finally let out the giggle she had been holding back, turning away from Arthfael and Elise before she could be caught staring. “You know how long it took him to befriend Nike, he’s not the type to fall in love at first sight.”

Eliza shrugged, still grinning, and rested her chin in her hands. “Arth’s a strange one, what can I say?” Something flickered in her gaze, a look of knowing, as if there were more than she was letting on, but it was gone as quickly as it came.

Jocosa ignored it, deciding it was a trick of her imagination, but a thought pushed its way into her focus. Had they met before?

No. They couldn’t have - Arthfael rarely ventured into city, and when he did, he always stuck with the other deities. Even then, he preferred being amongst those he considered to be his friends. She hardly knew him, despite Eliza being one of them, but she knew enough about him that he only interacted with humans if it was necessary. And there was no doubt they couldn’t have met outside of Vencuro - had Elise ventured into Sifko, she would’ve been killed.

So what was it about Elise that captured his full attention?

Perhaps she would never know, and Jocosa was… alright with that.

With a grin, she held up her glass for a cheers, eyes sparkling with amusement. “Here’s so saying Arthfael actually has a heart.”

Eliza let out another laugh, tapping her glass against hers, eyes shining with amusement. “Gee, Jo, that’s a little harsh, dontcha think?”

Holding back her own laughter, Jocosa simply winked at her girlfriend before taking a swig of her drink. “Harsh?” She said, putting her glass down as she leaned across the table. “My love, you know it’s the truth.”

Her girlfriend said nothing, instead let out a hum of thought before she leaned across and kissed her nose, causing her to jerk back in surprise. “Whatever you say, dear,” she teased.

Jocosa felt her face flush, but she couldn’t help but giggle. “You just don’t like admitting I’m right, do you?”

There was another thoughtful hum from Eliza as she leaned back against her seat, a playful smirk appearing on her face. “If it helps you sleep at night, then sure, darling.”

“Oh, shut up.”

Fight Me

Jocosa stared out the window, expecting to see eyes gleaming back at her from the darkness, but there was nothing. Not that she could see, at least.

They were in Sifko, but miles away from the laboratory - the powerplant, whatever in Darwin’s name it had been. But she didn’t feel safe, and she doubted she would again. Not with those creatures, those mutants, free to roam the land.

What was worse was that she didn’t have the answers to the questions that buzzed in her mind like a swarm of angry wasps, and the questions that everyone else had. All she knew was that Burnam had allowed Greer to do as she pleased, to manipulate humans into working for her in the bunkers, creating monsters for no clear reason. But Greer was the goddess of chaos, and… she wasn’t sure if knowing that helped or not.

Greer thrived on chaos, creating it as she pleased despite having sworn long ago to not meddle in the affairs of deities and humans alongside the other gods. It didn’t matter if there was an ultimate reason for her actions - as long it caused confusion and mayhem, she was satisfied.

But why had Burnam agreed to all of it? He had the power he craved - he controlled everyone with fear and manipulation, and it worked well for him. Had Greer been promising him something? Had she promised him status as a god, in exchange for him hiding her from the eyes of the others?

The thought of Burnam becoming a god sent shivers down her spine, and Jocosa hugged herself tightly, ignoring her sweaty palms and fluttering heart.

She wanted to focus on the good that had come out of the Uprising. She wanted to focus on the fact Eliza had survived, that Burnam was dead and gone, and that Zahera had taken control of the chaotic situation swiftly and calmly. She knew it could’ve been so much worse - the Uprising could’ve come to a head in Vencuro. Burnam could’ve won, and Greer could still be free. But she couldn’t focus on that. Not with tensions still as apparent as Lamarr on the horizon.

The humans were up in arms, lashing out at any deity that came close, and she couldn’t blame them. Arthfael had turned colder, and it was clear he was not pleased with Zahera’s new leadership. Even Eliza seemed… distant. Everything felt wrong.

“Jo?”

Jocosa nearly jumped out of her skin, the voice breaking her from her troubled thoughts. She spun around, heart in her throat, and she let out a startled laugh, pressing a hand to her chest as she closed her eyes. “Lamarr, Eli! You scared me.” She opened her eyes, offering a weak smile, but it quickly faded when she saw her girlfriend’s near stony expression. “Eli? What’s wrong?”

Eliza stared at her, her gaze troubled, and she opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Instead, she let out a heavy sigh and shook her head, looking up toward the ceiling. “Jo… I… Can you sit down?”

Her mind spun, fear and worry clawing at her heart. Unable to speak, Jocosa moved toward the couch before sitting down, staring at the other deity, desperately trying to figure out what was going to be said.

Eliza remained still, her gaze still focused on the ceiling, as if she were unable to face her lover. It was clear she was troubled, and the way her body was tense made Jocosa feel she were bracing for a fight.

“Talk to me,” Jocosa rasped, voice far weaker than she had intended. She had wanted to sound stronger than she felt, to sound calm and assuring. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t get her words to take on that facade, and she couldn’t chase the fear that made the hair on her arms rise. “Please, Eli. You’re worrying me.”

Her girlfriend inhaled deeply, finally lowering her head to look toward her, her eyes gleaming with an unspoken challenge. She was defensive, and Jocosa couldn’t read why.

Finally, Eliza spoke.

“Zahera can’t be in charge.”

What?

Jocosa stared at Eliza, her mind going blank. The words died in her throat, but she couldn’t even figure out what they were. Why? She wanted to ask. I don’t understand. She wanted to say. What in Darwin’s name are you talking about?

Eliza didn’t wait, lifting her chin as if she truly were facing against someone willing to argue. “The last thing we need to do is go into hiding - to pull away from the humans. We can’t do what the gods did. After what happened, we need to mend the relationship with them, to make things right-”

“They hate us.”

Jocosa stared at Eliza, feeling dizzy and baffled, and saw her own confusion reflected on her girlfriend’s face.

“Of course they do. I don’t-”

“Zahera’s right, Eli. We need to take a step back, to let the humans get some sort of peace. They don’t trust us, and they can’t if we keep breathing down their necks.”

She wanted to cry the moment, those words came tumbling out, to take them back. But she could only watch as those words caused Eliza’s face to harden, growing defensive once again, and it was clear Eliza had made up her mind. Listen to me, she wanted to say, but her tongue stuck to the inside of her mouth. Please, my love.

“Of course they don’t trust us,” Eliza spat, her voice sharp, and Jocosa did her best not to wince. Her sharp tone had rarely been directed at her, and it hurt.

“Eli-”

“Listen to me!” Eliza’s lip twitched as if she were going to bare her teeth, her eyes flashing with anger and… desperation. “I know Zahera may mean well, but she can’t be trusted. Burnam trusted her for a reason - he made her his confidant for a reason, Jo. Burnam was the one who caused this shitshow in the first place, but we’re just as guilty. We followed his orders, and we need to show the humans that they can trust us. That we’re going to make things right.”

Jocosa said nothing, staring up at her girlfriend as she struggled to process what she was saying. Her words sounded like that of a madwoman, and despite the belief she clearly possessed in what she was saying, Jocosa couldn’t tell if she were still trying to convince her as well as herself.

“My love,” she began, her words gentle, a little stronger than before. “Eli, I… I don’t understand. Where is this coming from?”

Eliza shifted her weight, and for a brief moment, looked uncertain herself. “Arthfael,” she said simply. “We need him as a leader.”

Jocosa felt her heart sink, and everything seemed to stop. Arthfael.

Since the Uprising at the powerplant, he had been different. Not just colder, but… determined. Full of bitterness and hatred toward those he felt had stood in his way from the beginning to get rid of Burnam.

Suddenly, Eliza’s words made perfect sense. Her words were not her own - they were Arthfael’s. And it reminded her of Burnam.

Inhaling sharply, Jocosa got to her feet and stepped toward Eliza, staring at her in the eyes desperately as she reached out a hand to touch her shoulder, but stopped short, unable to do so. “Eli, don’t you hear yourself?”

Eliza stiffened, eyes flashing. “Of course I do.” Her words were hard. “And I hear what Arthfael is saying, and I agree with him. We need to be active in earning the trust of the humans - if we stand by them, protecting them from whatever in Darwin’s name escaped from the lab, they’ll start to trust us. We’d be able to live together, nothing like before. We’re different from them, sure, but… that doesn’t mean we get to be above them.”

“That’s not what Zahera is suggesting.” Jocosa’s words came out far sharper than she intended, but she was unable to hold herself back, anger finally flaring in her chest as she pulled away from her girlfriend. “She doesn’t want us to be above them, but she doesn’t want us getting in the way. We’ve hurt them, Eli, and it’ll be best for us to pull away for a while, so both sides can heal. We don’t need to be involved.”

Eliza scowled, turning away as she crossed her arms over her chest before spinning back around to face her. “But we do need to be involved!” Her voice was rising, her temper flaring. “We’ve hurt them, and we need to apologize! Zahera just doesn’t want to face the consequences!”

“I can’t believe you’re saying that!” Jocosa did her best to ignore the painful ache in her heart, and she wanted to plead with Eliza to calm down. To just drop the matter altogether. She hated arguing with her. She hated seeing her girlfriend’s temper flare, but it never flared at her. Not like this, and it felt like it was going to kill her. “Eli, please! Zahera doesn’t want to cause more problems! She wants to make things right, but we need to give the humans space! She wants to make up for the pain we’ve caused, but to do that we need to back off!”

Eliza scowled. “And then what? She hasn’t considered what to do about those mutants, has she? She knew what went on in the lab, and she did nothing. She knew of Burnam’s cruelty, and did nothing.” She stepped forward, fury blazing in her eyes. “She did nothing to stop him! Arthfael was the one formulating a plan to overthrow him! He was the one to put his life on the line, over and over again, to get to the truth! Zahera lied to us, Jo! We can’t trust her, and we certainly can’t trust anyone who supports her!”

“You’re sounding just like Burnam!”

The moment those words left her mouth, Jocosa wanted to take them back.

Eliza stepped back, her eyes widening and her anger dying, and she looked as though she had been struck.

And Jocosa couldn’t stop.

“Can’t you see? You’re sounding paranoid, trying to convince yourself that you’re going to be doing something for the greater good when you’re not! Arthfael isn’t in a good state of mind, and you know that! It’s dangerous, Eli! The talk of Zahera lying? Where in Darwin’s name is that coming from? She needed to be careful - she has a son! Burnam wouldn’t have hesitated to kill Yezekael, even though he’s only a child! You know that! She never asked to be in that position!”

Eliza’s gaze hardened once again, her posture straightening as the anger returned to her eyes, and Jocosa felt her heart sink.

“I thought you were smarter than this,” she said quietly, and Jocosa reeled back, a choked gasp escaping her mouth.

Eliza kept going.

“Yeah, Zahera has a son, so what? We all have someone we could’ve lost, and some of us did lose someone. Dessa lost her father, and she’s just a child. Atlas lost his little sister - she was hardly an adult. Arthfael lost Elise.”

Tears blurred her vision, and Jocosa swallowed a cry as they began to spill down her face. “You don’t need to remind me of the dead,” she choked, voice breaking as she collapsed onto the couch.

“Apparently I do.” There was an uncharacteristic coldness in Eliza’s gaze. “You said I sound like Burnam, but we know that’s not true.” She paused, clearly mulling something over her tongue. “I didn’t realize I had lost someone, too.”

Those words hurt more than a scorion sting.

Jocosa flinched, turning her gaze away as she shuddered, struggling to keep herself together. She wanted to turn those words back against Eliza. This wasn’t her, and it wasn’t Eliza. What is wrong with us?

“Leave.”

“Jo-”

Without thinking, she jumped to her feet, spinning to face Eliza, hot tears spilling down her cheeks as she stared at her. “Leave!” She took a step closer, desperate anger blazing in her heart. “I don’t care what you do - but I’m staying with Zahera! Following Arthfael will only repeat this, and you know it!”

Eliza stared back at her, her expression changing into shock, her eyes wide and mouth open. No words came out, and she slowly shook her head, taking a few steps back.

For a moment… Jocosa thought she had pulled herself together. Something in the other woman’s movements made her believe she had snapped out of a trance, but then Eliza stiffened once again, and her heart sank.

“Fine.” Her gaze was cold once more. “I get it. I really do, Jocosa, and I thought you were better than this.” With a shake of her head, Eliza turned and began to leave, but stopped, looking over her shoulder.

Jocosa stared at her, struggling to breath, and doing her best to keep herself together even as it felt the world was shattering around her. Don’t leave me, she wanted to scream. Please! I love you! Please don’t do this to me!

“Goodbye, Jo.” Remorse filled Eliza’s voice, and for a moment, her expression wavered, mirroring the devastation Jocosa felt. But, despite her wavering voice, the other woman turned away, and simply walked out the door.

A choked cry escaped Jocosa as she fell to her knees, sobbing as she buried her head in her hands.

The Uprising was supposed to have been an answer to her questions. It was supposed to have taken care of everything that had nearly destroyed them - it took Burnam’s life, and chased Greer back into control of the other gods. But it left her with more questions, and took away the one person she had loved more than anything.

It had taken Eliza, and what remained of her was someone completely different.

[fictivewriters]

like the seasons, you are

pairing: yoongi x genderfluid!reader 

genre: angst, minor fluff

word count: 1,715

summary: You’ve just come to terms with being genderfluid, but you aren’t sure how to tell your boyfriend, Yoongi, who you’re practically in love with.

You weren’t sure how to tell Yoongi.

You hadn’t really been sure of what you’d been feeling for a long time actually. It wasn’t until one of your closest friends had told you about gender being a form of expression that you really began to question yours. Your friend lent you some of their textbooks they’d been using for their psychology class and your mind had been blown.

There was so much that you hadn’t known before. Sure, you could have learned all this through the internet by simply looking it up on your phone, but there was something about holding a book in your hands that validated how you felt. It was real. It was solid. It wasn’t some abstract thought a guy high on fumes had theorized about on a backway chat room.

It was a real life thing written in a real life book that you could feel and touch with your actual hands and it was real for you.

You’d finally figured out that sometimes you felt like a girl and other times you felt like a boy. You were okay with it. It was a feeling that you’d always had, but never really expanded on until you bought your first pair of boxers. They’d fit you nicely. You liked the feeling of them on your skin. Other times, it felt weird and that’s when you’d slip into the underwear your older sister had helped you pick out from Victoria’s Secret. Some days, you couldn’t even stand to look at them. You’d thrown away a few of your underwear that were bland colors when all the frustration that was building up within you overflowed on your off days.

Those days were when you avoided Yoongi. He generally wasn’t one to pry, but with the way you’d been acting lately, it was only a matter of time before he pushed you for an answer. You’d once even gone on a date with him while wearing your favorite pair of boxers and a lumpy hoodie that hid your curves. Yoongi had said nothing, simply held your hand through the movie and walked you up to your dorm room before he’d swept your hair out of your eyes and wished you a good night. You’d murmured it back in response watching as he pivoted and walked down the hallway you two had just come from. As soon as he had turned the corner, you’d disappeared into your dorm, rushing past your roommate who was passed out on the couch and slamming your bedroom door behind you. You’d let out a relieved breath, glad he hadn’t noticed how stiff and awkward you’d been throughout the entire date because you’d been worrying about him somehow finding out about your choice of underwear.

It’s been like that for some time now. You’d avoid Yoongi’s messages for days as you struggled with who you wanted to be (and with school) and when you did meet up, you’d act so strange around him that he probably thought you didn’t like him anymore.

“Rose-ah,” Yoongi’s voice rings out, dragging you out of your thoughts and back to the present.

“Huh?” You hear yourself murmur.

“Is it true?” He asks.

“What?” You blink, utterly confused about what your boyfriend is asking you.

Yoongi sighs and shifts in his seat. You’re both sitting in the living room of his tiny apartment. The place isn’t much, but it’s Yoongi’s and that’s what matters to him, and to an extension, you. He’d called you over that day to study, saying he missed you, and you’d shown up. It wasn’t every day that Yoongi said those words. He was very reserved, never letting on how he really felt, and when he did, you felt a warm rush of affection. He never showed how he really felt, but he made an effort for you and that was only one of the reasons why you liked him so much.

“Rose. Are you pulling away from me because you want to break up?” Yoongi asks.

Your spine straightens as you jolt in your chair. “Excuse me?”

Yoongi looks at you, his lips pulled into a half pout and an indescribable look in his eyes. “Rose. I’m being serious.”

“I’m being serious too!” You let out, surprised at how high your voice had gone when you spoke. “I don’t understand why you’re asking me this.”

Today, you want to tack on a “hyung” to the end of your sentence, but if you did, then your secret would be blown. Yoongi would know that sometimes you’re a man and other times you’re a woman and he’d find you weird, a freak, and break up with you. You hold back your tongue, afraid of what might happen and stare at the older man in the room, waiting for him to speak.

“You don’t understand…?” Yoongi trails off, rubbing a hand over his face as if it pains him just to talk to you. “I don’t understand why you’ve been avoiding me for the past month. Every time we’re together, you’re always so hesitant to touch me, to talk to me. To look at me. What’s going on, Rose-ah?”

You gulp, a bead of sweat beginning to form at your hairline. You debate telling Yoongi about your latest discovery and tangle your hands together when you realize that you’re wearing your favorite pair of boxers again. For the past week, looking at your Victoria’s Secret panties had made you feel a bit ill when you got ready for the day every morning. You worry that Yoongi will break up with you if he learns about how you’re feeling and you don’t want that. You really, really like Yoongi, love him really, and you don’t want him to be out of your life. You squeeze your eyes shut and huddle in on yourself atop Yoongi’s couch. Yoongi sits on the armchair opposite you, but the second you recede into your shell he’s quick to curl around you, his arms encircling your shoulders, pushing your hair out of your face as your breaths turn into heavy pants. You’re not sure what’s going on, but you know that you should tell Yoongi. He has the right to know about your feelings if he’s worried you’re going to dump him.

You’d never dream of breaking up with Yoongi. He’s such an amazing person that you two being together still baffles you. He’s pretty, pretty in a feminine way with his weak chin, the large slope of his nose, his upturned lips that are always pulled into a pout, and the bags under his eyes that only make the rest of his pale features stick out. But he’s strong and he never takes shit from anybody. Your chest shakes as you let out another breath, letting go of your nerves and some of the anxiety you hold about telling Yoongi about your feelings concerning your body.

“Iー” you falter, the panic rising up in you as you imagine all the different ways that Yoongi might react.

But then Yoongi rubs his hand on your arm, encouraging you to continue speaking. So you take a deep breath and rub at your eyes, surprised to see that you’re crying because you hadn’t noticed it before.

“I’m not a girl,” You whisper, clenching your eyes shut as you do, afraid to see his reaction. “Not all the time, anyway. Sometimes, I’m a b-boy…hyung.”

You’re relieved to have finally said it. Your panic is beginning to die down and even though you’re not sure how your boyfriend is going to react, you know that it won’t be in a negative way. Yoongi doesn’t stop rubbing your arm and you take it as a good sign to open your eyes and look up at him. He’s smiling at you, a grin tender and soft and reassuring. You let out a relieved breath, glad that he isn’t angry or appalled and simply accepting instead.

“That’s okay,” he says. “That’s fine. This changes nothing. Nothing about the way I feel about you, Rose-ah. You’re still you, even if you sometimes feel like a boy and sometimes feel like a girl. I don’t mind.”

You sag into him, letting your limbs wrap around Yoongi as you two lay curled up on the couch. He lets you, being careful to not grip your waist as you push him back onto the couch cushions. He laughs beneath you, a soft, breathy sound as your hair tickles his face. He pushes it back and stares you in the eye, his gaze soft and touches gentle and you melt.

“Are you sure it’s okay?” You ask, your breaths intermingling in the space between you.

Yoongi nods, his lips pulling into a smile. “Of course. I didn’t fall in love with you because you were a girl. I fell in love with you because of you, and you feeling like this, it doesn’t change anything about the way I feel about you. You could be an alien for all I care, but you’re not. You’re you and that’s all I want you to be.”

You nuzzle your nose into his throat, a rush of affection for the man underneath you suddenly taking you by storm. “Did you just confess?”

Yoongi laughs again. “Maybe. I thought it would be appropriate anyway.”

“Appropriate how?”

“You’ve probably been freaking out about telling me for some time, so I just wanted to reassure you.”

“So you reassure me by telling me you love me?” You ask.

“Yeah. Why? Do you not love me?”

You shake your head and laugh. “Of course I love you. I just didn’t want to be the first one to say it.”

Yoongi presses his nose to your hair. “Well, at least we both know how we feel now. And I really do mean it when I say that your gender doesn’t matter to me, okay, Rose-ah?”

“Okay, hyung.”

You press your lips to his then, relishing in the way he shifts underneath you, his hands tugging at the end of your hoodie as your mouths meld together. It’s soft and simple and you think that maybe that’s how life with Yoongi is. Easy and comforting.

You don’t think you’ll mind very much if it is.

a/n: I wrote this for my best friend @spring-dayoongi​ bc they’re 100% right about there not being enough fics with genderfluid readers and i hope that this makes a select few happy. also, this is a re-post from my writing blog (@wenotes)! this is also the mxr work i’m most proud of!

❀ admin rosebud

[himbowelsh]

For BabeRoe: Five times Babe caught one of his friends wearing his clothes and very much minded and one time he didn't mind at all.

AN: these five times prompts always take me a long time bc, well, i’m essentially writing six fics, but i LOVE them and i love writing them!

The fault might lie with Babe, if he'd been idiot enough to leave his clothes lying around where anyone could pick them up. The thing is, he didn't. Bill is anal about keeping laundry in its proper place -- “in your drawers or in the basket, the hell is this, rocket science?” Babe doesn't get the chance to leave articles of clothing lying around anywhere except his disaster zone of a room, and if he somehow manages to leave something behind, it never stays there for long.

When he traces it back, his friends’ awful track record of pilfering his clothes starts with Julian.

“What the hell are you wearing?” Babe demands, striding into the studio (their glorified term for the rec room they all spend their time in when they want to hide from their responsibilities). His question is accusatory; he doesn't care. There is no good reason for Julian to be sitting cross-legged on the couch, soaking wet, in nothing but a pair of boxers and a sweatshirt.

Neither articles of clothing belong to him. Babe knows this, because he is the house’s unofficial Laundry Guy. He's dealt with Julian’s mess of a wardrobe to recognize when his friend is wearing his own clothes and when he isn't. Right now, he definitely isn't, because that's the same sweatshirt Babe wore to the movies a few days ago.

And those boxers… also do not belong to Julian.

“Julian,” he repeats when his friend seems too caught up in his phone to look up at him. “Where did you get those?”

“Hmm?” Julian glances up, looking surprised -- as if he’s just noticed Babe’s presence, the faker. He shrugs thin shoulders concealed in Babe’s sweatshirt and leans back into the couch. “I got caught in the rain. These were the only dry things I could find.”

The storm outside is a killer. It swept in out of nowhere, while Babe was lucky enough to be inside the house. He heard Julian stumble through the front door a few minutes later, but he never considered the implications of his friend getting caught in the storm until now.

Staring down Julian, wearing his sweatshirt and his boxers, he's not sure what to say. A part of him feels defensive; another part feels a little violated.

“You're wearing my boxers,” he emphasizes, as if this justifies every baffled emotion swirling through his head.

Julian glances down at them, shrugs, and twists his pale legs beneath him before returning to his game. “I thought these were Bill’s, to be honest.”

Bill doesn't wear checker-patterned boxers. Bill wears solid colors, the Italian flag, and (on rare occasions) briefs. Babe would love to not have to know this, but now he kind of wishes Julian did.

“Am I…” He pauses, hesitates, wondering if he's breaking some sort of unspoken friendship rule. Or just a house rule -- no one wants Julian going commando on their couch. “Can I ask you to take off my underwear?”

“Sure. You can ask.” Julian sounds almost bored, but when he looks up at Babe, there’s a smirk on his lips. “Don't mean I'm gonna do it.”

Torn between defeat and fury, Babe styles for the least-offensive option and just stalks away. He doesn't want to throttle Julian, but if he has to look at him wearing his underwear anymore, he's not going to be able to be held responsible for what he might do.

He loses this round. At least, he thinks, it's just one (weird) isolated incident.

He thinks wrong.

He’s just stepping through the door when he comes face to face with a sight he could have gone his entire life without seeing. (Okay, maybe not -- he’s seen it before, and he’s not happy about it but he knows it’s inevitable that he’ll see it many times again before he dies.)

“Dammit, Bill, will ya put some pants on?”

Bill waves a hand over his shoulder, not even bothering to glance up at Babe. He’s laser-focused on running the vacuum back and forth over a particularly stubborn spot in the carpet. He’s been whining about that stain for weeks now, ever since Julian dropped a taco (and then picked it up and at it). Today, he’s finally decided to do something about it.

While dripping wet, wearing absolutely nothing.

Babe shields his eyes and walks straight into the coat rack, because of course he does. It’s that kind of day. “I don’t need to see your bare ass!”

“I didn’t need to haul your stupid scrawny ass up to bed when you got wasted on tequila bombs, tried to go skinny dipping, and hit your head in the pool. Did I? Fuckin’ no, but I did it, because I’m a great goddamn friend.” Bill leans down to train the suction right on the stubborn stain. Babe feels like he’s been dropped into a very screwed up production of Macbeth.

“I swear to god,” he says, still fumbling to figure out where the stairs are with his eyes closed. He’s touching something that might be a fur coat, but could also be Spina’s chest. “If you don’t put some clothes on now I’m calling Frannie.”

“She loves my ass.”

“I’ll take a picture and send it to everyone, then.”

“I’ll strangle you.”

Babe doesn’t even know where his phone is, let alone which direction Bill’s standing. He also doesn’t want something that horrifying on his phone. It might melt, or explode, and none of his awful friends will buy him a new one.

“Bill,” he finally sighs, slumping in defeat. “Just put some pants on. Please.”

Bill considers this question for a long moment (way too long, in Babe’s opinion) before snorting. “There’s a t-shirt and shorts in the bathroom. I saw them when I got out of the shower. Go get ‘em.”

He’s so eager to not have to stare at his friend naked any longer -- and, frankly, to have an excuse to leave -- that Babe scrambles to the bathroom. He doesn’t look at the clothes he grabs off of the towel rack. All he registers is that they’re a t-shirt and shorts, actual clothing for Bill to wear so he doesn’t traumatize the nice old couple that lives next door. (The curtains were wide open. How the hell could Bill be doing that in full view of the whole neighborhood?)

He makes it back to Bill in record time, and flings the wad of clothes at him like he’s scoring a winning touchdown in the Superbowl. He keeps his eyes screwed shut until he hears the vacuum switch off and Bill sigh.

“There. I’ve got clothes. You happy now, Heffron?”

Babe finally risks opening his eyes, and doesn’t bother stifling his sigh of relief. The shirt is too tight and the shorts are too short, but Bill’s full moon is no longer offending everyone and their mother. Babe is content up until the moment he realizes something that kills and buries his good mood.

“Hey, those are my clothes!”

Bill just casts a wink over his shoulder. “You gave ‘em to me.”

The vacuum switches on again, drowning out Babe’s groan of frustration.

Of all the people he expected to stab him in the back, Spina was the most unlikely suspect. Spina is the nicest of them all. He’s loyal. He’s a stand-up guy. He has a closet full of comfy clothes all of his own.

Babe doesn’t know what he’s done to deserve this.

“Spina! Buddy, you've betrayed me!”

Spina just shrugs, pulling Babe’s baggy sweater (which isn't quite as baggy on him) tighter around his shoulders. “It's freakin’ cold, Babe. Sorry.”

The heat has been off all weekend because someone (no one wants to say Bill, but two people pay the bills in this house and Fran has never missed one in her life) forgot to pay the company. This wouldn’t be such a bad thing, except it’s the middle of winter, and Babe is pretty sure humans need warmth to survive. If someone doesn’t get the heat turned back on soon, the rest of the house has made it clear that they’re going to murder that someone and use him as a human fire log.

So Babe can understand why Spina would be wearing a sweater, just not his sweater. “Come on. That’s the one Gene got me for Christmas!”

“Why d’you think I’m wearin’ it now?” Spina demands. “It’s the warmest thing in this goddamn house.”

Gene is from Louisiana, where the coldest they get in winter is still enough to melt ice cubes. His experience of northern winters have been nothing short of a horror story, so he’s become an expert in remaining a human furnace at all costs. He’s always wearing the warmest clothes, and he gives them as gifts too. Gene’s sweater might be the only thing standing between Babe and life as a human snowman, and currently that sweater is on Spina’s ungrateful back.

“Buddy, I love you,” he says, “but take off your clothes.”

Spina wraps his arms tighter around himself. He sees the glint in Babe’s eyes, and he’s ready. “I can’t do that, Babe.”

“Spina --”

“No!”

Spina lets out a yell as Babe tackles him. They both go tumbling off the couch in a ball of flailing limbs, hollering bloody murder all the way. When they hit the floor, it’s a wrestling match. Babe has got a good grip, but Spina’s not going down without a fight.

They wind up tearing the sweater, messing up the couch, and Babe smacks his head against the coffee table. When the stars clear from his vision, Spina is already sprinting from the room.

Well, at least they exercise is keeping them warm.

Just as Babe is starting to think he has the worst friends in the world, they still find a way to surprise him.

He steps out of his bathroom in full-on Spiderman regalia. He’s got the suit; the mask; even a tiny miniature “web shooter” that really sprays silly string everywhere. Smokey Gordon’s costume birthday bash is going to be wild, and Babe is ready for it.

He stops cold in the doorway when his eyes land on his two friends, clustered together in the middle of the kitchen. Liebgott is stooped over, his head buried in the fridge, muttering to himself as he paws through their leftovers. Grant has hoisted himself up on the counter, and is swinging his legs while munching on Bill’s favorite potato chips.

They’re both wearing Babe’s clothing.

Grant has stolen Babe’s favorite yellow and orange striped t-shirt, matching it with basketball shorts, with a bright red Phillies hat backwards over his messed-up hair. Liebgott is in a striped button-up, and wears a pair of skinny jeans that do not fit him at all. He has his hair slicked back, and looks all the more uncomfortable for it.

For a second, Babe can only gape. Then he tries to inhale, chokes on air, and remembers how to use his words again. “What the hell are you assholes doin’?”

Chuck raises a nonplussed eyebrow. “What’s it look like? We’re dressed up.”

If he’s being honest, Babe has no clue what the hell it looks like, but he knows one thing for sure. “You raided my closet!”

Liebgott emerges from the fridge, half a pickle hanging out of his mouth. “We’d agreed that we'd all go as each other. I'm Grant, can't you tell?”

“The correct question,” pipes up Grant, “is what are you wearing?”

Babe glances down at his (amazing) Spider-Man costume, then back up at his friend's again. His eyes are close to bugging out of his head at this point, but he doesn't care.

“If you're Grant,” he says to Liebgott, “why the hell are you in my shirt?”

“Because this guy wouldn't let me anywhere near his closet.”

“Do you think I'm an idiot?” Grant stares and Liebgott hard, daring him to answer. Liebgott opens his mouth, closes it again, then tries one more time before giving up. Grant smiles. “Not to mention, you're the one who left your door unlocked.”

“Yeah,” agrees Liebgott. Babe gets a very good view of the half-chewed pickle in his mouth. “Who's really at fault here?”

Babe gapes at them. His eyes swivel between Grant and Liebgott. He opens his mouth, makes some weird noises, chokes on his own spit, and realizes that nothing he says will make a difference. It's his own fault for agreeing to do anything with these two in the first place. Great as they are, Babe always winds up the butt monkey in their trio, and even though he doesn't like it, he also doesn't know what the hell to do about it.

Finally, he sighs. He's not going to argue; they've got a party to get to, dumb costume arrangement or not. “You like superheroes,” he says, pointing at Liebgott. “Now let’s move, I ain't gonna be late because of you idiots.”

He storms out of the house, Grant and Liebgott following behind him. Liebgott brings the pickle jar.

All he wants is a glass of water. A parched throat is the only thing capable of dragging him out of bed after a long, trying day spent learning to kickbox from Toye. (Babe relearned two things that he already knew: he is not made for kickboxing, Joe Toye is a beast.)

Swallowing stings, and his mouth is dry as the Sahara desert. When he finally manages to haul himself out of bed all his muscles protest. He knows he'll have one nice collection of bruises tomorrow, but he'll wear them like battle scars. They'll hurt like a bitch, but the defeat will just be a reminder of why he should avoid getting into the ring with someone who could probably benchpress him. (Not that Babe is one to shrink from a challenge, but Toye is his friend, thereby it's okay not to want to fight him.)

He stumbles out of his room on feet that feel like lead blocks, and is halfway down the hall when he realizes that he isn't alone. The hallway light is on, illuminating a figure standing in the doorway of the living room. A head full of curls is silhouetted against the dim light; a black t-shirt hanging just above to the middle of bare thighs. Babe blinks hazily for a moment, brain not quite registering what he's seeing, before he recognizes the person in front of him.

“Frannie?”

“Babe.” Fran’s silhouette is backlit against the dim hall light. She is frozen in place, torn between looking awkward and guilty. She does a weird side-step to block the living room doorway, which does nothing to disguise the oversized band t-shirt she is wearing. Babe’s eyes settle on the worn logo, and he feels a familiar exasperation creep over him.

“Tell me that's not my shirt.”

Fran hesitates for a moment before answering, “I’d love to.”

“Are you wearing anything under it?”

Another pause, too long to be interpreted as anything other than the negative that it is. Fran’s lips purse, and she tilts her head like she's considering the question. “Well...”

That's all Babe needs to hear. He holds up both hands, doing an about-face before he can see any more than he needs to. If Fran is standing there half-naked in the shirt Babe left lying around the living room this morning, chances are that Bill is just inside the living room -- probably less decent than Fran, filthying up the couch they all share.

It's par for the course for his friends at this point, but Babe is still disgusted.

“Oh my god. I'm moving out.”

“Good luck finding someone else who’ll take you,” Fran calls out to his retreating back. Then, after a beat -- “This shirt is really soft! What detergent do you use?”

Babe’s bedroom door slams behind him. He never gets his glass of water.

“Are you wearing my shirt?”

In the hazy morning light, it's hard for Babe to make out much; but the figure of Gene standing over the coffee maker, wearing nothing but an oversized Phillies t-shirt, is impossible to miss. For a second Babe isn't convinced he's really awake. It would be all to easy to dream of a sight like this.

Then Gene turns around, smiles at him, and Babe knows this is no dream at all. “Do you mind?”

In spite of himself, Babe feels a grin spreading across his face. He sidles into the kitchen, not bothering to flick the light on, and loops his arms around Gene’s waist. Gently, he presses Gene back against the counter and leans in to capture his lips.

Babe’s mouth is still dry. Crust stings the corners of his eyes. The both have morning breath, and Babe’s half-awake brain makes everything feel hazy and out of focus.

But he knows the contours of Gene’s lips as well as the back of hand. The taste of him, the hand cupping his cheek, the eyelashes fluttering against his own -- this is all very, very real. The best way to wake up is with Gene’s lips on his, Babe decides.

When they pull back, Babe can feel a small flush on his face. Gene’s lips are still quirked, like Babe’s told him a funny joke, but his eyes are gut-wrenchingly gentle.

“G’morning to you too, cher,” he mutters, and Babe grins.

His boyfriend can wear his clothes any time he wants.

[hale-of-stiles-heart]

Superman!Derek here we go. Okay stiles is nothing like lois like Noah fence to her but naaa. So Scott has somehow managed to get into life threatening danger that Derek use just used to having to save him but THIS TIME Scott has a hot friend who doesn't. need. this. And so superman is a little baffled and like almost forgets to save them bc liek have you seen stiles? So then stiles is salty abt being the damsel in distress bc GOD KNOWS he can defend himself he's a sheriff's son. (1)

So, this is officially my first Super!Derek work! (also on ao3!)

Derek was painfully used to having to save Scott McCall's life.

The reporter was still green, a new hire at Argent Enterprises who had only been working for a few months. He was practically right out of journalism school, still wide-eyed and awestruck by Metropolis.

Derek didn't mind Scott at that much, especially since he was more tolerable than most of the other reporters that flocked to crime scenes hoping to get a glimpse of him. Unlike most, Scott was content to simply report on the stories he was given, rather than go chasing after an interview with Superman.

Objectively, Derek understood why so many reporters and photographers wanted five minutes with him, understood the intrigue of having a living, breathing superhero flying around the city. He understood the need to know more and ferret out the answers to incredible mysteries.

But, personally, he hated the way reporters buzzed around like flies on a slab of dead meat, like blood sucking parasites wanting a picture or soundbite of Superman to launch their career and fill their pockets. He hated the way that half the time he had to split his attention between saving the day and saving the overzealous reporters trying to get some footage of the action.

Fortunately, Derek never had to save Scott from those kinds of incidents. Unfortunately, he had to save Scott from other incidents.

The first time Derek had to save Scott it was because the reporter had gotten lost and inadvertently wound up in a rather rough neighborhood. He had gotten shot at by some white guys who lived and breathed the Second Amendment as he tried to get somewhere safe.

He wound up getting lost even deeper in the neighborhood, apparently having no sense of direction whatsoever. Derek found him cowering behind a dumpster when the sound of gunshots drew him to the scene.

Deflecting more gunshots from the ignorant city rednecks, Derek led Scott out of the neighborhood by the back of his shirt like a disapproving father who had caught his son smoking. After ensuring that Scott wasn't hurt in any way, suffering no gunshot wounds or other injuries, Derek had escorted him back to Argent Enterprises' main office, instructing him to stay out of trouble.

A few weeks later, Derek had to save him again.

Somehow Scott had gotten caught up in the middle of a scuffle between two super villains who had apparently gotten into an argument in a local Starbucks. One of them had reportedly cut in front of the other in line, incensing them enough to throw a punch that had the other guy flying through the wall.

Scott had gotten clipped by the punch as well, making him spill all of the coffee he had been picking up for his co-workers. But that was the least of his worries as he wound up as a hostage inside the coffee shop, shaking like a leaf under a small table.

After hauling off the villains to jail, Derek had hurried back to the Starbucks to make sure that everyone was alright. He had cocked a curious brow when he noticed Scott amongst those taken hostage, wincing when he saw the coffee stains on his t-shirt.

A pattern had formed after that, one that consisted of Scott inexplicably getting into trouble and Derek saving him. It had quickly become an almost daily occurrence.

Scott had an uncanny ability to attract danger though he insisted that his friend, whose name he claimed was Stiles, was the real lightning rod for trouble. And lucky Derek got to pull him out of burning buildings and yank him away from more superpowered fights in the middle of the city.

So, when Derek overheard a police radio call detailing that a couple of reporters had somehow gotten themselves trapped on the roof by yet another super villain that called Metropolis home, he immediately knew that one of them must be Scott.

With a quick glance around the office to make sure no one would notice him leave, Derek discreetly gathered his things in his suitcase and rushed to the elevator. Five minutes later, his suitcase was safely tucked away in his apartment and he was soaring over the skies of Metropolis. Super speed definitely had its perks.

He followed the sound of police sirens and fire engines to the scene of the crime where Livewire was hurling balls of concentrated electricity at the first responders. The air crackled with static as currents of electricity raced through her body, sparking blue at her fingertips.

Her ghostly white skin seemed to glow in the bright sunlight of the late morning, making it look even more unnatural than it already was. In stark contrast to her skin, her neon blue hair stood straight up from her scalp, almost resembling a mohawk.

She was barely recognizable, looking nothing like she had when she spent her days hosting her vitriolic radio talk show where she had ranted and raved about everything from abortions to Superman being an illegal immigrant. She could have given Tori Lahren a run for her money.

And there, on the roof an apartment building that had been left vacant for renovations was none other than Scott, looking terrified as he gawked at the electricity bending woman. He had a microphone clutched tightly in his hand as though he had been on the roof when the villainess attacked.

Derek had hoped to spare a few moments analyzing the situation before acting but his plans were spoiled by one of the first responders. One of the police officers had pointed him out and joyously called, "Look! It's Superman."

Despite wanting to roll his eyes at the fact that the officer had just informed Livewire to his presence, Derek launched into action. He dove at Livewire who snarled at him indignantly, flicking a few strikes of electricity at him as he rushed at her.

Fortunately, the electricity didn't do much other than annoy him a bit, sending a few tiny jolts through him. That is, until she intensified the strength of the current, hurling a huge bolt at him that resembled a strike of lightning.

It struck him in the chest, shocking him into a halt and a premature fall to the concrete roof of the apartment building with a loud crack. He heard a few startled gasps from Scott on the other side of the roof as he pushed himself to his feet and shook himself.

He took another minute to reassess the situation as his fingers twitched with the aftershocks of the assault, glancing around the rooftop. The first thing he noticed was that the stone of the roof was crumbling, the second thing he noticed was that Scott wasn't alone.

There was another man on the roof with him, tall and lean in a red plaid shirt and khakis that looked more skintight than Derek's own outfit. His brown hair was artfully disheveled, dark in contrast to the pale white of his mole dotted skin that immediately reminded Derek of a marble statue.

His big brown eyes were alight with a fierce fire of determination as he watched Livewire, his brows furrowed in concentration. Derek noticed that his plush pink lips were moving rapidly as he frantically whispered something to Scott, squeezing the other reporter's shoulder.

Derek was captivated. The man was so gorgeous, the mere sight of him drowned out everything else.

Everything else including Livewire getting ready to zap him with an even stronger hit of electricity, tendrils of blue sparks coiling around her hands to form a large ball. She stalked closer silently, a wide smirk stretching across her dark lips, making her look almost demonic.

Derek never would have even noticed if it hadn't been for the other reporter with Scott. Standing up taller, he cupped his hands around his mouth and called to Derek, "Dude, watch out!"

Derek turned just in time to see Livewire standing over him, a twisted grin on her face as she prepared to shock him. But before she could, Derek swiped her legs out from under her, making her topple to the ground with a banshee-like screech.

They grappled for a few moments, Livewire forgoing using any of her superhuman abilities in the heat of the moment, instead favoring clawing at Derek's face while shrieking. Derek didn't even bother using all of his own preternatural strength to subdue her, able to pin her arms behind her without it.

He secured her wrists with one of the reinforced zip ties his good friend Batman had given him, reminding Derek to send him a fruit basket. Her powers neutralized, Livewire kicked and screamed as Derek carried her down to the street to the army of police officers who took her into custody and Mirandized her.

With Livewire in the backseat of a police cruiser, Derek hurried back to the roof to rescue the two reporters, worried that the roof might cave in. He hovered over the roof as he made his way to Scott and his friend who was grumbling something so quietly that even Derek couldn't hear him.

"Superman!" Scott called out in relief, visibly sagging as he sighed. He looked exhausted, like the slightest breeze might knock him over.

His friend, on the other hand, looked furious. He had his arms crossed over his chest as he glared at Derek, making him hesitate for a moment in fear that the unknown reporter was one of the people who hated Superman.

"Are you two, alright?" Derek asked as he approached them, lighting down on the roof a few feet away from them. He was a bit wary, not sure how the unknown man might react.

"We're fine," the other reporter growled snappishly, giving Derek an unimpressed once over. He sauntered over to Derek, poking him in the chest with every word, "I didn't need you saving me, y'know. My buddy here might be a little helpless, no offense, Scotty, but I can take care of myself."

Derek bit down on a smile, ducking his head at the indignant tone. He could hear fond exasperation underscoring every word so he didn't take any offense, instead pressing his luck and inquiring, "Is there anything I can do to make it up to, Mr..."

"Stilinski," the man answered immediately, a small smirk curling up the corner of his lip. The smirk growing, he tacked on, "And you could start by going to dinner with me this Saturday. Eight o'clock at the diner on Fourth and Kent."

"I'll be there," Derek grinned widely. He had grown used to saving Scott so it was only fitting that Scott's friend saved him from yet another Saturday night alone.