#and sorry for being so late i had the shittiest day ever rip

[hyunjinz]

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 0325 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

[pascal-istheway]

Kinktober Day 1

I was going to try to do Kinktober this year but may not be able to keep up with it all between wedding planning and shit. Anyways, Here’s day 1

Kink: Tit Fucking [18+]

Warning: NSFW

Pairing: Javier Pena X Fem!Reader

Zoe’s notes: I can totally picture Javi needing to watch himself in this way, so enjoy!

Word count: 2.3k

KINKTOBER 2021 MASTERLIST

You’d been working all day on a new lead. A sicario had been caught on tape disclosing a location of one of Pablo’s various labs. The only problem was the satellite connection wasn’t stable so of course, half the call was cut out and you had to do your best to try and fill in the blanks. 

You sat at your desk, hands weaved into your hair as you rested your head in frustration. Everyone else had already gone home, your partner, Agent Murphy, being one of the last to leave beside you. As far as you knew, you were alone. 

You sign in frustration, closing the file and grabbing your apartment keys from the top drawer of your desk before trudging off to catch a ride home. 

You hadn’t accounted for the fact that it was after midnight on a Tuesday and no cabs would be running this late, especially near the office of an American DEA agent. Could this day get any worse? 

Defeated, your feet carry you back inside as you mentally prepare for the roughest night sleep on the world’s shittiest couch known to man. But as your feet are slowly carrying you up the cold concrete steps, your other partner, Javi, comes barreling through the glass doors, clearly as frustrated as you were feeling earlier. 

“Oh, shit, uh sorry there partner,” he skidded to a halt in front of you, “did you forget something?”

“Yeah, no cabs run this late,” you laugh, feeling silly for not realizing how late it had been earlier, “was just going to crash on the couch in the break room but I-“

“Nonsense, I’ll drive,” he held his keys up, jingling them around his finger. 

You hop into his older model Jeep, pulling the door behind you and clicking your seatbelt across your lap. He heads off towards your building, which coincidentally, is the same one he lives in. 

Being one floor below him was nice. You had the security if needed. The downside was his late-night visitors. The informants he kept company with would keep you up into odd hours of the night. As if your job wasn’t already hard enough, try doing it with little to no sleep, pining for a man who is upstairs fucking another woman. 

He killed the engine in his usual spot, parking nose out as he always did. The night just felt like it was dragging and you couldn’t wait to slip under the covers and blackout for what few hours you had left. You were thankful though, tomorrow you had requested to take off and desperately needed the rest. 

You followed each other up the stairs, your footsteps amplified by your partner as they echoed in the stairwell. When you arrived at your door, you stopped, turning your keys over in your palm. 

“So I guess this is me,” you say at the same time Javi says, “do you want to come up for a drink?”

You stand there and smile, laughing awkwardly with him. He rubs the back of his neck, “I mean, if you’re tired, maybe another -“ 

You interrupt him, “Javi, I’d love to. But only if you have whiskey,” pushing past him, you start up the stairs, smirking at him over your shoulder because you know damn well all that man has in his place is whiskey. How many late nights had you spent together going through surveillance photos over a bottle and cheap takeout? 

“What do you think I am, an animal? Of course, I have whiskey,” he shouts after you and takes the steps two at a time to beat you to his door.

He unlocks it, letting you in first, and closes it behind you with a soft click. You look around, taking in the bachelor pad he has created for himself. It was messy and unkempt, just like you’d expect from someone like Javi. Empty bottles sat on the coffee table from last night’s game you assumed he watched with Murphy, some food leftover in a bowl on the side table.

His voice interrupted your thoughts when he asked, “usual with ice?”

“Hmm?” your head whipped around to see him holding two glasses with a dark amber liquid in them. 

“I asked if you wanted ice,” he smiled, handing you one of the glasses. You look down at the brown liquid swirling around the sides of the glass and smile.

“Oh. This is fine,” the glass feels cool as you bring it to your lips, letting the liquid sit on your tongue before sliding down your throat. Javi wasn’t one to spend a lot on the good stuff, not that you minded. He didn’t have to impress you by any means. And it’s not like you guys could afford the good shit on a DEA’s salary anyways. 

Javi watches with interest, his eyes tracking the way your throat moves slightly when you swallowed - the way your tongue swipes out after you take your sip. It makes his pulse quicken, and it wasn’t from his own drink. You could feel his eyes on you, scanning your body from top to bottom. 

His reputation around the embassy wasn’t unknown to you. Javier was a womanizer in the sense that his reputation with his informants went far beyond the occasional reward for a casual tip. 

It was true that he loved women and that they loved him in return, and they loved him often. But not just because he was a handsome DEA agent. No, they loved him for far more than his skills outside of the bedroom. 

“You were working awfully late Agent,” he jokes with you, knowing damn well that you always are one of the last to leave. 

“I could say the same for you, Javi,” you smile, taking another long sip from your glass, “you are normally out of there well before I am.” 

“I had something I was working on. The time got away from me I guess,” he stretched his arm above his head, his shirt poking up to reveal the slightest bit of his stomach. The beautifully tanned skin was peppered with hair leading down below his pants, something you noticed every time he did this in the office. 

“Let me guess, Sharon over in the records department?” you laugh at him. 

He pauses, squinting at you before joining in on the joke, “haha very funny…” 

“Sorry but for a guy like you…” your words trail off as he takes a few steps closer, his glass hanging down at his side now. 

“A guy like me, huh. And what exactly do you know about a guy like me, huh?” he whispers your name, eyes squinted as if he’s challenging you for more. 

You swallow, your stomach shrinking while your heart beats wildly in your chest. Your eyes meet and suddenly, you get an overwhelming heat that burns between your thighs. Shit maybe it was the alcohol talking, but this version of Javi was one you didn’t ever want to back down from. 

Smiling a crooked grin, you take another large sip from your glass, “I know all there is to know about guys like you, Pena…” your eyes slowly trailing down his body, “and I mean, all there is…” your finger reaches out, nail dragging itself down his chest from the left to the right before trailing lower. You finish your glass in one sip, never taking your eyes off him.

He takes a sharp inhale, tongue darting out to lick his lower lip. Your eyes immediately follow the shape of his lips. “Unless there’s something you think I still need to know…” words trailing off accepting the challenge he presented to you. He takes a step back, finishing the remainder of his glass and setting it down. In one swift motion, he grabs you, lips colliding with yours in a frenzied passion that overwhelms you. 

A moan escaped your lips as he grabbed you and hoisted you up on the counter, his lips finding their way to your neck and not so gently nibbling at the sensitive skin below your ear. His fingers threading through your hair as he moved it aside to get better access to your neck. 

“Javi, we -” you moan again as he bit down sharply, ignoring your protests. 

“I know,” he whispers, taking your head in his hands. You both reach for each other’s clothes, desperately trying to get out of them. 

“Javi….” you groan as he rips open your blouse, buttons flying in every direction.

“Bed,” he panted, picking you up and letting your thighs wrap around his waist. Your arms grasp around his neck and shoulders, clinging for life while your mouths never leave each other. He walks you blindly through his apartment like you’d assumed he’s done a thousand times before with however many women. But right here at this moment, you don’t care. 

He kicked open the door and tossed you on the bed, stripping each other’s clothes in record time. Kisses planted on every inch of your body as he crawled over you. His hand snakes up over your chest as he takes each breast in his palms, squeezing and pulling them in just the right way. 

“Jesus… could you be any more perfect?” he looks at you as he takes one in his mouth, tongue attacking the pebbled nipple, teeth ever so slightly scraping along the tip as he sucks and licks to a perfect peak. 

You moan, legs spreading wider underneath him. Your hands find their way into his dark hair, weaving your fingers through it and giving a gentle tug to pull his mouth back up to you. He leaves this small trail of kisses up your chest, following the curve of your neck and chin, before claiming your mouth again. He whispers your name into your mouth and you swallow it whole, tongues mixed in pleasure. 

You completely miss what he had asked over the sound of your own moaning. Sitting up, you look at him, eyes drunk with lust and whiskey, “wha?” is all you manage to get out. 

“Can I? Fuck them?” he palms your breasts again, breathing heavily as he watches his hands knead them in slow circles. Clearly, he has a thing for the perky breasts that you hide so well beneath your shirt. All you can do is nod slowly, mouth slightly agape. You’d never done anything like this before, so your movements were clumsy as he turned you slightly over the edge of the bed to where your head was hanging off the edge. 

You feel him spit into your cleavage before he unbuttons his pants, sliding them off to reveal the most exquisite cock you’d ever laid your eyes on. Eyes wide, you reach out and stroke him, seeing his knees buckle slightly at your touch. 

“Fu-fuck…” he groaned, looking down to where your hand was stroking him. Your eyes were just able to look past where he was standing on either side of your head to see him as he leaned over you and slipped his cock into your cleavage. 

“Hold your tits together, I want to feel them, baby…” he instructed, pushing them together with your hands in his. You hold them steady, kneading them ever so slightly as he slips his cock right in between them. His head drops forward and a loud sigh escapes from his mouth, eyes fluttering half-closed. 

You imagine what this must feel like for him as he pumps his hips in and out of your tits, watching him from this angle is absolutely erotic, something you never thought would turn you on this much. What you weren’t expecting was the feeling of his hand to find its way between your thighs, slipping under the soft fabric and between the folds to find your sweet center. 

His thick fingers found that small nub immediately, your core completely soaked with arousal that he didn’t even need to do much except take his hand and rub small circles. Your back arched as his fingers worked their magic, your chest pushing up into him as his hips flexed faster. Cock slapping against your chest, the sound echoing throughout his apartment. 

You moan as he slips a finger deep into your tight hole, then a second, curling them to hit that sweet spot in a matter of seconds. How he was able to find it so quickly, you’d never know but at this point, you didn’t care. He was magic with those hands. 

He pumped his fingers in and out to the rhythm of his hips, his balls slapping against your chest in tandem. You played with your breasts, massaging and kneading them in an attempt to massage his cock through them. The grunts he made just spurred you on, making your hips rise off the bed slightly and ride along with his hand. 

Pretty soon, you could feel his balls clenching close to his body, the sign of his explosion coming to a head. And it was really perfect timing because he was so close to getting you to a full-body orgasm. You could feel the muscles clenching in your abdomen, like tethers ready to snap one after another. 

Like a load under too much pressure, you did just that - you snap. An explosion of color erupts from your cunt, liquid flowing from you and down his hand as he swears and finally bursts over your chest, showering you with his own evidence. 

You both lay there, spent and completely useless, bodies sweaty and sticky. Eventually, Javi does get you something to clean yourself with, tossing it at your side. You manage to clean yourself and start to gather your clothes but as you sit up, you feel the bed dip and his arms snake around your waist, pulling you into his side. 

Drunkenly, you hear him whisper your name, “sshhh… just stay for tonight…” and who are you to deny him? After all, he did just give you the greatest orgasm you’ve had since you arrived in Colombia. 

[hajimewhore]

Body Swap 👫 (Iwaizumi Hajime/Reader) ➸Rated T, fem!Reader, 3.2k words ➷Humor, slight angst, misunderstandings, mutual pining, shenanigans ofc, i missed oikawa ➷ Masterlist, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, ✈Part 7

Hajime nearly chokes, wiping the ‘potion’ dribbling down his jawline, he presses the back of his hand to his mouth in an attempt to keep the disgusting concoction from exiting his gut. 

“...How was it?”

You try to pat his back sympathetically (he’s gagging now), but you’re the one that insisted he try the mystery remedy first, and you cautiously pull your hand away as he shoots you the most menacing glare he can while he’s coughing into his palm. 

“It was made with weird mushrooms and fucking plants, how do you think it tastes?”

Terrible, you guess. And the effects were supposed to be instantaneous, according to a recipe dropped in one of the posts you found… not that you expected it to work. 

“Ahh, and nothing happened.”

You rub your jaw semi-thoughtfully, before catching the look on Hajime’s face. 

“Uh, Hajime?”

His expression is glaring, not unlike someone scheming for revenge. But that’s silly, Hajime wouldn’t blame you for the potion not working, right?

“It probably didn’t work because you didn’t try it with me.”

It seems he would, realization sets in as Hajime closes in on you, and you panic,

“I think it didn’t work because it was someone bullshitting!”

“Don’t you want to swap back? Just drink it!”

“You’re just mad, get away from me!”

You trip on your feet, stumbling into the kitchen table. It scrapes the tile as your hands clutch for purchase on anything that’ll help you get you away from the madman behind you, but the tablecloth you’ve grasped at isn’t much help seeing as you swipe it off the table entirely. You’d be impressed that all the plates and the flower-filled vase stayed perfectly set on the table from your impromptu magic trick, if it weren’t for Hajime assaulting you.

You cry out as if you’re being brutally attacked (you are, technically–just with plant juice), and Hajime takes you by the jaw and tilts a cup of the swirling cocktail to your lips, sloshing rather unappetizingly in the glass. If the thing had an aura, it’d have a thick gray cloud fuming from it. 

“And why would I be mad?”

“Because I made you drink a potion I found on a weird thread even though it was totally suspicious and completely untrustworthy!”

You confess to your sins, the thread was actually some sort of troll that promised the reader would swap bodies with their favorite celebrity, and you cast it aside for the likelihood of that never happening, it was probably a scam to get some gullible teens to drink essentially dirt.

And you admit that initially you thought it would be funny to prank Hajime, jotting down the recipe and conveniently leaving out the celebrity bit, but in your excitement to scheme you forgot Hajime doesn’t take too well to pranks at his expense. 

Not without retribution at least, and you find yourself grappling at his wrists, attempting to turn your head away from the glass.

He eyes you with a too eager grin,

“You should try it, really, it might work.”

It didn’t. 

It was disgusting. 

You have learned your lesson not to trifle with Hajime, and you're no closer to finding a solution to your problem. 

You slump onto the kitchen table, feeling especially abused and violated by the plant paste you regretfully crafted. 

“That’s number one on the list, what’s next?”

Hajime rests his elbow on the table, chin in palm as he scrolls on his phone. 

“Bonk our heads together so hard we pass out and hopefully wake up in our own bodies?”

You suggest. Who knows, it could actually work.

“No thanks, I’d rather not wake up the same way but with a concussion.”

The second Hajime turns down your cartoonish suggestion, his phone lights up and buzzes, signifying a call.

You glance at his phone, “Tooru’s calling you?”

“Fuck. I’ll just ignore it,”

The moment he sets his phone aside, the kitchen door bursts open, presenting none other than Oikawa Tooru, entirely expected given the situation and the fact that Hajime’s parents are still at work. 

“Tooru?!”

You blink in surprise, and Tooru frowns at the sight of the two of you together. 

“I knew you were ignoring me!”

“What the fuck Shittykawa, who said you could come over?”

Hajime grimaces, forgetting to stay true to your personality in his surprise. Tooru’s brow ticks at the catty response to his entrance. 

“I see you’ve been spending too much time with Iwa-chan, using his terrible nicknames! I didn’t think you’d ever use it on me either, but here we are!”

He folds his arms across his chest, and Hajime covers his mouth.

Shit, he let that one slip in his initial shock. 

“Besides, this is Iwa-chan’s house, and I say I can come over! You two have been ignoring me all week and coming up with the shittiest excuses—”

“Oikawa—”

“No, let me finish!”

He huffs, looking more serious than you’ve seen him outside the court. Judging by his posture and the worry in his brows, you can tell he’s been stressing himself lately. You bite your cheek, knowing full well you and Hajime were the root of the cause.

“Both of you have to go to the dentist when the office is closed, really? Iwa-chan studying for a test that’s not for another week, please! Give me a break. Not to mention, every practice you play like shit Iwa-chan,”

It’s not shit, you’re just not Hajime’s usual, because you’re not fucking Hajime. You want to argue, defend yourself and Hajime, but you keep your lips sealed. 

“You act like a total weirdo, you hardly talk to your own teammates and friends, and you–”

He turns to Hajime, technically you, scowl ever present. 

“You always run off with him after school! And don’t even pretend like you’re not having lunch with him too, Kunimi-chan saw you eating alone together by the art building–ditching me, yeah?”

He’s fuming, and his hair is moving in every direction accompanying his wild, frantic gestures. 

The guilt starts piling, and you’re starting to regret yours and Hajime’s way of handling the situation. 

To avoid uncomfortable situations and messing up, you thought the best method was to steer clear from everyone entirely. 

Clearly that’s backfiring, but it’s too late to erase those actions now. 

“Not only have you two spent all week lying to me, you’ve been completely ignoring my calls and texts all weekend too!”

Tooru pauses, rant seemingly over, but neither you or Hajime feel inclined to speak yet, too caught off guard by the outburst, and unsure of what you can say to remedy the situation. 

Tooru drops his arms at his sides, glancing away from the two of you, biting his lip. Your shoulders tense when you feel the atmosphere around him drop significantly.

“Are you guys mad at me?”

Oh. 

Oh fuck.

You forgot he had feelings. 

“Oikawa, it’s not that, I swear.”

You speak first, and Tooru looks to you with an expression that almost breaks your heart right there. Brown eyes glossy, lips in a thin line as if he’s trying to keep them from turning down into a frown, he looks genuinely displeased.

“Are you just sick of me? Are you tired of hanging out with me? I know I’m an asshole sometimes, but if it makes you guys that upset I can stop, I’ll be better.” 

In any other context you may quip with a ‘you could stop this whole time?’, but the joke wouldn’t sit right, and Tooru looks entirely too on edge, fingers tapping at his sides restlessly. 

Tooru’s always been the type to stay true to himself, unabashedly and unapologetically. He knows he’s flawed, has learned to accept his shortcomings as a person. But here he is before you and Hajime, willing to cast aside his pride for the sake of your friendship. It only serves to guilt you more, considering it’s based upon the lies you’ve built up.

“I promise we’re not sick of you, we just… had something come up that we had to deal with. It’s been really stressful, I’m sorry.”

You don’t particularly care if it’s too out of character, it’s what Tooru needs to hear. 

Risking a glance at Hajime, you see he’s shaking his leg and biting his lip, a few of his nervous tics, he’s contemplating something heavily. 

“And you can’t tell me? You always tell me when something is wrong.”

Tooru eyes you suspiciously, and it’s true, usually you can tell Tooru anything. But this isn’t something believable, and you and Hajime both decided it’s best kept a secret. 

“We can’t, but it’s nothing you did. Don’t worry about it, we’ll start hanging out soon, like we used to, we just have to deal with this ourselves.”

And you hope you’ll be able to, it’d be nice to go back to normal. You did miss movie nights with Tooru and Hajime, and you miss having lunch together on the rooftop. 

Tooru thinks for a moment, you see the gears turning in his head, eyes focused. He glances to Hajime, who hasn’t said a word the entire time, still tense on the other side of the table. 

Tooru’s contemplative gaze flicks to you, as if he’s had some sort of revelation. 

“Did you get her pregnant?”

WHA—THAT’S HIS REVELATION?

“You asshole, shut up!”

Hajime’s choice first words. 

“What?! No, no, fuck no!”

You blush heavily at his wild accusation, and Tooru looks visibly relieved. 

“Oh, thank god. It wouldn’t have been a bad thing, necessarily, and I always kind of expected it, but this is just too soon.”

He laughs airily, as if he doesn’t feel the weight of his words like you do, heavy on your heart. Does everyone have that assumption? That you and Hajime would one day be together like that?

“We’re not even dating, idiot.”

Ouch. Hajime’s adamant refusal jabs at you, and you try to ignore the ache that claws at your chest. That may have stung a bit, but you certainly won’t admit it out loud.

“Yeah, yeah. I just couldn’t think of any other reason you’d be ignoring me like that.”

“It’s ‘cause we swapped bodies.”

You whip your head to Hajime, physically ripped from your disappointment, too shocked he’d blab the truth to Tooru and expect a reasonable outcome from it.

“Hah. Hah.”

Tooru doesn’t even entertain the explanation, arms crossed and eyes disinterested, accompanying the dry laugh well.

“It’s true.”

You hope Hajime knows what he’s doing. 

“Funny, and I didn’t think you’d be in on it Iwa-chan, looking so surprised like that.”

Tooru doesn’t even look skeptical, or remotely fazed, as if he doesn’t want to be tricked into falling for something so blatantly stupid. 

And normally, he’d be right to, but in this case, you and Hajime were unfortunately not kidding. 

“I just didn’t think Hajime would openly admit that without talking to me first.”

You shoot a glance at Hajime, as if to convey ‘I hope you know what you’re doing’, but he merely shrugs in response. 

“And you’re a real prankster today too. What’s gotten into you guys? Seriously, are you mad at me?”

Tooru is starting to look a little peeved, visibly doubting your words of encouragement from earlier. 

“We’re not mad. We switched places. We woke up last Sunday in each other’s bodies. That’s why we haven’t been ourselves, and that’s why we’ve been avoiding everyone.”

Hajime continues with his explanation, as if Tooru would be any closer to believing it.

Which he isn’t. 

“That’s not even possible, but fine, I’ll play along. You’re Iwa-chan, supposedly. What’s something that only he would know?”

Tooru crosses his arms smugly, staring at your body, who is ‘supposedly’ Hajime, as if he’s got you two in checkmate. 

This can’t be good for Tooru, but it’s definitely going to be good for you if you’re getting in on a secret. 

“Alright. You swore me to secrecy for this one,” Hajime doesn’t hesitate for one second, “that time at the volleyball banquet last year you saw a girl with a ‘nice ass’ in a ‘super mega tight dress’ and wanted to hit on her, but when you tapped her shoulder, she turned around and it was actually Y/N–”

Now this is very interesting news to you. 

“H-HEY, STOP TALKING–”  

Hajime side steps Tooru’s attempt to cover his mouth,

“And you pre-gamed before the event so you drunkenly admitted to me that you’d still tap that but she’s practically your sister and that’s gross but her ass looked so–”

“I get it okay! How do I know you’re not just fucking with me and broke the secret pact we made?!”

Tooru cuts Hajime off and glares at you, but you’re giving him the widest, shit-eating grin. 

“I knew that dress looked good.”

“Enough games already!”

“What about the time in elementary school where you and I went to a volleyball match and you had to–”

“ENOUGH, enough, I believe you, okay!”

Tooru relents, red-faced and practically sweating from his nervous panic. 

“I wanna know about the time in elementary school where you and Hajime went to a volleyball match and something happened.”

You put your hand up, wanting to know the juicy details. You thought you and Tooru told each other everything, but apparently there’s some missing gaps in that ‘everything’, and you’re very eager to learn. 

“We made a friendship promise and he swore me not to tell anyone but because of the circumstances, he had to—” 

“I said I believed you already, stop trying to out me!”

Tooru cuts Hajime off at the best part, every time. 

He taps his foot with a huff, bottom lip twitching into a frown. Hajime gives him a smug look, staring back combatively, as if Tooru will attempt to call out bullshit again (he won’t). 

You’ll have to remember to ask Hajime about the middle school incident at a later date, but right now, 

“I’m sorry we kept this from you, and sorry I kept ignoring your calls, Tooru. We didn’t know what to do.”

You interrupt their staring contest, wrapping your arms around Tooru in a tight hug. You’re the tallest you’ve ever been, and it’s weird to hug him when you aren’t yourself, but you missed your best friend. 

“Uh…”

Tooru awkwardly pats your back,

“I was kind of lying before because I thought you guys were trying to shame and humiliate me, but this is really weird and I actually might believe you now.”

“Asshole, that’s all it took?! And stop hugging him like that, it's freaking me out!”

Hajime slaps Tooru on the back, yanking you by the back of your shirt to pull you from the hug. 

He grumbles something indecipherable under his breath, contemplating whether he should even say anything, 

“I’m sorry too. I guess.”

He gives Tooru an awkward, much gentler slap on the back, before slinging his arm around Tooru in some sort of half-hug gesture.

“I-Iwa-chan! It really is you in there!”

Oikawa’s fake tears spring to life as he bends down to wrap Hajime in a hug, who struggles like a cat wanting to be released. 

“Get off me!”

Tooru pulls back, wiping a tear from his long lashes, 

“I’m still really upset right now, I really thought you guys hated me! So if you could please shower me with adoration, that’d be lovely.”

Tooru spreads out his arms, a pathetic expression on his face that Hajime doesn’t buy for one second. 

“Tooru! I love you! You’re the best Tooru, your jump serves are great! Your setting is unmatched! You’re my bestest friend!”

You cheer him on, Hajime is balking that you’d even entertain the idea of doing that in his body, let alone acting on it, but Tooru eats it up with gleaming eyes. 

“Quit feeding his ego!”

It’s your turn to be scolded by Hajime, but you just stick your tongue out at him sheepishly. 

“He deserves it?”

“He didn’t do anything.”

“Exactly! He didn’t do anything, and we were being bad friends.”

“I’m on your side,”

Tooru slings an arm around your shoulder and gazes down at Hajime, who’s more aggravated now than when he was drinking straight plant paste. 

It hadn’t bothered him too much initially, but having to crane his neck up to glare at Tooru is sparking some caveman urge deep inside Hajime to absolutely throttle him.

“Out. Get out of my house.”

“Technically, this isn’t your house–OW, Iwa-chan, that still hurts!”

“Newsflash Asshole-kawa, girls can hit too!”

They can, and you let Hajime prove his point. 

“So,”

“If it’s something about aliens, I don’t want to hear it.”

You interrupt Tooru before he can spew something definitely about aliens.

“I wasn’t going to bring up aliens–though it’s a very valid cause you definitely need to consider. I was actually going to ask if you have any idea how long you’re gonna be like this?”

You give Tooru a tired look, and Hajime just ignores him entirely, tired of glaring no doubt. 

Tooru’s been lazing around, attempting to ‘help’ you and Hajime, but you doubt he’s accomplished anything aside from scrolling through the same threads you’ve looked through. You’re willing to bet he researched for a minute or two before losing interest, abandoning the task in favor of looking through Karasuno’s and Shiratorizawa’s match history.

“If we knew, we’d tell you.”

You respond, since it seems Hajime isn’t interested in replying.

“Ooh, that reminds me,” Tooru props his elbows up on the couch, pausing whatever volleyball match he was watching to drop his phone on his chest, “I saw this foreign family comedy once where the mom and her daughter swapped places, but they had to show each other selfless love and understand what the other goes through to swap back.” 

Tooru gasps in additional realization before turning to Hajime, “Iwa-chan, are you her mom?”

The look Hajime gives Tooru is enough to put him in a grave and send secondhand chills down your spine. 

“Sorry, sorry, don’t hit me again! Your hands are pointy and jabby now, it’s hard to get used to.”

Ignoring that, 

“Hajime and I already understand each other, we have to put up with you all day.”

“True,” Tooru is completely unbothered by that comment, “I did see a romcom where the two main characters had to kiss at the end, they ended up swapping places like that.”

You don’t like that he casually suggests this with such an innocent look on his features.

“That sounds stupid, watch better movies.”

Hajime grunts out, and you’ll admit that kissing Hajime would be nice, but under normal circumstances preferably. You don’t particularly want to kiss yourself as Hajime. 

“I appreciate all your knowledge in films that have body swaps in them Tooru, but this isn’t a romcom, or a movie.”

You sigh, and Tooru hums thoughtfully. 

“Sure, but it wouldn’t hurt to try.”

He sits upright with ease, sliding off the couch and pocketing his phone, 

“Anyways, I’ve got more practice to do. I’ll try not to be too hard on you tomorrow, now that I know you’ve swapped with that brute over there. Ciao!”

Tooru ducks out of the living room and out the Iwaizumi household before Hajime can assault him, and good thing, he probably would’ve had some bruises from your ‘jabby’ and ‘pointy’ hands. 

With Tooru’s quick escape, you’re left contemplating whether that suggestion would actually work or not, risking glances to Hajime across the room.

A/N: not me ending a chapter on a juicy bit again afjknddm, anyways im posting this at an ungodly time but i hope everyone enjoys!

taglist: @cybergovl @babybellecheese @keijikunn @168-cm-png @sexy0android @cuddlesslut @bumbledunce​

[thanksjro]

Dark Cybertron Chapter 12: That’s the Power of Love, Babeyyyyy

Thank fucking god, it’s almost over.

Our issue opens up with Ironhide deadnaming Slug, like the out-of-touch grandpa that he is. Everything is going to shit, the whole city’s covered in lasers like the world’s worst rave, and someone thought it was a good idea to let Swerve have a gun.

As the Ammonites try to murder everyone in sight, Whirl and Arcee have a little chat about how Whirl’s seemingly caused every problem ever in the last four million years.

…Whirl, you have been keeping up with your appointments with Rung, right? Like, I know he’s not the best therapist around by any stretch of the imagination, but surely something would be better than nothing in this case.

On the Lost Light, Hound, Perceptor, and Mainframe are keeping track of how many Ammonites have been killed. Everyone is extra British in this bit. Perceptor basically calls Hound a fucking idiot, because even with all the guys who’ve been taken out, there are still literally BILLIONS of these suckers running around.

Which seems a little overkill to me, but what do I know? Warcrimes aren’t my specialty.

Meanwhile, in the Mystical City of Making Science Cry, Starscream apparently knows what cosplay is, and takes a potshot at Jhiaxus for stealing his look. Metalhawk explains how the Ammonites got here in the first place, which, y’know, is cool. Love me some technobabble exposition.

I don’t actually love it.

I’m sorry for lying.

I WOULD ALSO LIKE FOR METALHAWK TO PUT A STOP TO THIS

BUT WE’VE GOT ANOTHER 19 PAGES TO GO

SO I GUESS LIFE JUST ISN’T FUCKING FAIR RATTRAP

While Metalhawk contemplates ending the comic event early, Starscream is getting his ass kicked by an old man who spent the war sitting on his butt in the Dead Universe.

Over with Team -Imus, Brainstorm’s taking a breather after getting Robertsed at the end of last issue. Ultra Magnus makes a pun, I guess to cope with the fact that he doesn’t understand anything that’s going on. Cyclonus is still dying, but this isn’t about him. Nightbeat is also dying. Oh, and Kup. Turns out, being a part of the Dead Universe is sort of an issue when you’re out of it.

Even though Galvatron was fine. And Jhiaxus. And Nova Prime, for the little bit he was out of it.

I feel like this plot point kinda just shows up when it’s convenient.

Anyway.

Brainstorm has shit in his lab that can help them not die, but he and Skids are gonna need help to get all these undead morons back to the Lost Light, which means that only two folks would be going to face Shockwave in this final confrontation.

Speaking of Shockwave, he’s gone full Burning Justice with that time drive shoved into his chest, as he makes fun of Megatron for being a dumb stupid idiot who gave him everything he needed to end the universe. He reveals himself to be a nihilist, claiming that a Cybertron which only exists for existence’s sake- and without any form of life- is the ultimate in perfection. Also, he’s a communist now. A nihilistic communist.

Just… whatever, Shockwave.

Megatron’s annoyed by all this posturing- which, same- but enough about him, it’s time for Ultra Magnus and Optimus Prime drop down from… somewhere… to kick some ass. Shockwave promptly shoots Magnus, and is about to do the same to Optimus, when this starts happening:

Huh. Wonder what all that’s about.

Shockwave snaps out of his stupor and proceeds to fire on Optimus, yelling about being the only thing that exists as he does.

Over with Rodimus and friends, Cyclonus is bitching about Rodimus not leaving him behind so he could go fight Shockwave. Nightbeat, who I guess just doesn’t know when to keep his mouth shut, tells Cyclonus to quit it, because they all know that he just misses his boyfriend. Cyclonus, though blatantly annoyed, doesn’t actually refute this claim. Brainstorm wonders aloud just how this gaggle of assholes managed to escape the Dead Universe without murdering each other.

Rodimus explains that when they heard the singing at Swerve’s, it proved they could still get out of the Dead Universe, so they desecrated Nova Prime’s corpse to make a space bridge. Brainstorm became a doorway, because he’s very nearly dead, and oh yeah, he should probably fix that when they get back to the lab, and also reconsider his lab safety protocols.

The gang reaches the outside world, and Rodimus is given a chance to spout off his personal philosophies.

Fantastic, you funky little man.

Then everyone looks up in the sky and sees some real bullshit.

Hey, Cahill? I just wanna talk, man. Just wanna talk about this boobie Windblade you’ve cursed my eyes with.

Back over with Jhiaxus and Starscream, Jhiaxus just cannot shut up. He just keeps waxing poetic about how smart Shockwave’s plan is. I couldn’t even tell you what the guy’s saying- my eyes glaze over whenever he gets a speech bubble.

Metalhawk at this point has had quite enough of all this nonsense, and decides he’s gonna throw himself into the equation that allows the Dark Cybertron prophecy to manifest.

By killing himself.

He just fuckin’… tosses himself into some heavy machinery and explodes, and that throws all the ores out of wack, since he’s got the Resurrection Ore in him. Jhiaxus is distracted by a man just straight-up dying in the same room as him, and this give Starscream the opening he needs to stab Jhiaxus in the gut.

Then the background just straight up disappears, as Rattrap lets everyone know that it’s all still going to shit, but in the opposite direction.

Really not sure about this art direction, but whatever. I’m over it.

Back outside, all the Ammonites are exploding. All of them. Billions of the little suckers, just popping off like fire crackers. The environment’s going to be ruined at this rate. Metroplex is having a great fucking time. Happy for him.

The Lost Light calls the ladies inside Metroplex’s brain room, and lets them know that they’re gonna break up Monstructor like the mediocre boy-band he is, though not without Mainframe being difficult beforehand. The ladies jump out and enter the fray, admiring Arcee’s style as they do.

Back with Rodimus and pals, Nightbeat’s being fucking cryptic, and Brainstorm gets to work making it so folks aren’t dying from being in the wrong universe, after a little prodding to his ego.

Back in Shockwave’s Super Saiyan Energy Bubble of Pure Unadulterated Logic, Shockwave says that’s he’s fucking ripped, and Optimus couldn’t beat him in a fight. Clearly, this means we’ll have to use our words to resolve this, like adults. Optimus isn’t too sure about that option, however.

I mean, do I even have to- Optimus, that’s GAY.

I have the sneaking suspicion that Roberts wrote this portion of the script. Y’know, just given his track record.

Then Megatron blasts Shockwave with his fusion cannon, and makes fun of Optimus for being a sentimental fool.

The fact that “Dark Cybertron” is telling me this makes me so mad. Like, you don’t get to talk, Exposition Central.

It’s at this point that Megatron drops a bomb on everyone present- he’s done with being a Decepticon. He’s gonna be an Autobot now.

See, ol’ Megsy here has seen the error of his ways- that by fighting the Senate, he allowed them to change him into a murderous warlord. To prove how much of a nice guy he is, he’s ripped the Autobrand off of Bumblebee’s lifeless body and duct-taped it to his chest.

Which seems a tad disrespectful, but okay.

…Megatron, you do realize that, as the leader of the Decepticons, you could just tell everyone that they need to be nice, and that would more or less be the end of it, right? You could just say “not evil anymore, I want to be loved now”, and everyone would be all “sir yes sir.” This is going to be a PR nightmare, I can already tell. Shockwave certainly seems to agree with me.

I really like this panel structure. Want to say this is the only place it happens, too. It’s just too bad it lives in “Dark Cybertron”.

Shockwave’s not having a good time right now, and he’s convinced that Optimus and Megatron have teamed up just to make him upset so he loses control of the time drive. The two spout off a little Autobot propaganda, and then Shockwave Remembers™.

Shockwave, having had his shadowplay reverse violently and abruptly, is horrified to find what he’s become. Alas, it’s too late for him- the only way to stop the time drive is for Optimus to kill him. Optimus promises to remember who Shockwave was- a callback to the line Shockwave gave him back before his empurata- and then shoots the everloving fuck out of the guy. Megatron helps.

And that’s a series wrap on Shoc-

-holy fucking shit.

The gang high-tails it outta there, IDW Optimus once again proving to be the shittiest version of everyone’s space-dad, as he leaves Bumblebee’s body to be consumed by the Shockwave Singularity. It’s looking pretty hopeless, but luckily none of these bastards can die without fucking up Season 2 of MTMTE, so the Lost Light swoops in to save the day.

Down below, Soundwave and his gaggle of small children and animals watch as the Lost Light fucks off into the distance. Soundwave’s having a time and a half, as he realizes with his balls-to-the-wall senses that Megatron’s joined the Autobots. Galvatron shows up to try to work out a deal. We won’t be seeing where this goes, because that’ll be covered later on.

The Lost Light lands in front of Metroplex, and over to the left of that are Rattrap and Starscream, climbing over the wreckage of the city. Rattrap tries to warn Starscream that things are gonna be tough, now that the Dark Cybertron prophecy has come to pass, but Starscream isn’t really having it. He’s gotten very paranoid, likely due to stress, and tells Rattrap to not play this game, because he’s the best player who’s ever lived. Then the Lost Light gang shows up and we get this face:

Sure.

Later on, Megatron and Optimus are hanging out in the Sky Roller, not-talking, until Megatron tells Optimus to get on with it, since the issue’s about to end. Megatron was totally serious about becoming an Autobot. Optimus isn’t really sure what to do with that. I don’t think anyone’s really sure what to do with that, to be honest.

Megatron, in turn, asks Optimus if he really could look past all the bullshit Shockwave pulled in the last several million years, and he gets a non-answer, because addressing your feelings is for losers, clearly. The two exit the ship, and I guess everyone else was just… standing outside waiting for them to talk it out. Weird.

...And with THAT, I am finally released from Comic Event Hell!

If you hear any distant, triumphant screeching right now, that’s likely me.

[streets-in-paradise]

Fictional Sibling relationships i live for

I had been thinking about this topic lately and decided i would like to make a post about it because it is a very fun and interesting one for me. I had mentioned a few times here that in terms of fandom involvement i am more invested in family and frienships than in shippings, particulary i have a fixation with strong sibling bonds or sibling like friendships. I think it must be because i have a strong bond with my younger sister, i identify with that and that’s why i tend to get more involved and interested in this sort of character interactions. 

I will keep this just in movies, movie adaptations of books and tv shows because i don’t want it to be super long but still want to talk. In movie adaptations i will try to stay in movie’s territory as much as i can, if i add commentary on the book versions this would never end but i may slip a bit towards it because i can’t help it. 

As always, i make the disclaimer over the images i will use here, they belong to the sites where i found them.  

Sorry for my pathetic language skills in english. 

Note: this got so long that i will probably make a second part for more characters i coulnd’t include 

Boromir and Faramir in lotr 

Lotr is full of great material for people who, like me, obsess over families. Frodo and Bilbo, Merry and Pippin, Elrond and Arwen, Theoden ,Eowyn and Eomer are other great examples of family relationships i’m interested on from here ( i pretty much love to overthink stuff about almost all the lotr family relationships). I choose to talk about this bros because they have a particular place in my heart. How many times we had seen the common trope of a royal or noble family where the father is a dick who gives all his love and attention to the older brother, neglects the little one causing him to grow up resentfull and ending up as a villian while dad’s favourite is the hero of the tale? Not this time, and it is so refreshing. 

Boromir and Faramir choose each other over their father’s bullshit, you can see it in the lovely deleted scene the gif up here comes from. When Denethor shows up they are both annoyed, when he is mean to Faramir Boromir calls him out and tries so hard to make him show some appreciation for his youngest son. it is clear that, in this version, Boromir is more family to Faramir than his father ever was. I love how much they care for each other, how they pass beyond the differences. Boromir is a super amazing big bro, i love how he protects Faramir and is there for him instead of letting his father’s praise get in between. I could talk for hours about this two because i love them so much. I’m doing a hard effort in stopping myself from throwing a whole set of headcanons i have for them so i will stop now before i get too excited. 

Fili and Kili in The Hobbit

Staying in Middle Earth for one more mention i had to talk about this two. Being fully honest, the movies broke my heart because they took the exact opposite way i would had wished for. When they were introduced In An Unexpected Journey this two adorable brothers were one of my favourite aspects of it because i loved their Merry and Pippin like dumb chaotic energy. One of my biggest complains with the Hobbit adaptation is to have shifted the narrative of the strongly family focused story arc of the Line of Durin. Kili’s romance with Tauriel shifted the focus and, in my particular perspective, i hated that because i was already super involved in the family story. Besides from the “I belong with my brother”  iconic line we don’t see much more of Fili and Kili’s bond after the introduction of Tauriel. In fact, Fili loses a lot of his initial screentime in Desolation of Smaug and Battle of the Five Armies.

 I love this two, the relationship with their uncle as it was introduced in the first film and i would had loved to see more of their family dinamic explored. One of my biggest complains, besides from the change of focus on their supposed ending, is that i’m convinced that they should had entered the mountain with the rest of the company. It is such an important moment they would probably waited for since they were children, is the legacy of their family. In short terms, i love them and i would had loved to keep seeing future developments of the Line of Durin story they had in AUJ. 

Hector and Paris in Troy 

This two represent the opposite case. The relationship they have in this movie is very different from the source material but i love the great development it has here. It is outstanding to see the importance the sibling bond has in a movie that is supposed to be about a war caused by a romantic passion. 

The sons of King Priam are absolute opposites. Hector is the embodiment of a true hero, a Steve Rogers of ancient times. His strong caring nature and will to protect everyone reminds me of Boromir as well. Unlike Faramir,Paris is a freaking mess. He is the careless, adventurous and reckless little brother Hector ends up protecting every single time he gets into trouble. I had stated before that i think Paris is a selfish prick but i think that is a slight confussion of mine with the original. This Paris is more a reckless dumbass and, unlike Iliad Paris, his arc in the movie it’s a bit more simpathetic. In this version Helen is trapped in a loveless marriage to an old prick who treats her like trash (in the director’s cut Menelaus jokes about how he only cares for his wife for breeding purposes on a conversation with Hector). I can understand at some point that, if he trully fell in love with her, he felt horrible for letting her stay there as a prisoner of her husband. Going back to the my focus for this talk, i like that the movie had decided to make this two close brothers who actually care for each other despite being absolute opposites instead of two guys who barely know each other, are barely aware of being brothers and share only hatefull interactions. 

Hector’s protectiveness over Paris warms my heart. He had threated him a few times ( director’s cut has the “ i will rip off your pretty face from your pretty skull” excharge. I love that scene), he gets furious at him for his foolishness, they argue but when the time comes he always chooses to protect him. Honestly, that’s such a big bro thing, i can’t help to feel identified. The weight that this relationship has in the development of the story is a surprising thing and it makes everything more tragic. Paris being the killer of Achilles has a more significant meaning because, now it’s not just the irony of the weakest character killing the strongest. Paris is aware that he owns the memory of his fallen brother so much, he wants revenge. Hector was there for him all his life, the least he can do for him is to kill his killer and avenge his death. Briseis begs him to stop but he can’t let himself do that, he owns it to Hector and that debt is bigger than anything. 

I will not delay this any longer, the family relationships on this movie are my favourite aspect of it and i have a soft spot for the bond between the trojan princes. Don’t get surprised if i one of this days i end up making an entire separate post talking about the family dinamics displayed in the film (same goes for lotr but that would take me ages and i would have to make an entire series of posts if i wanted to discuss every lotr family relationship i would want to talk about). 

Sam and Dean Winchester in Supernatural 

If you reached this point you may had noticed that i have a big thing with family tragedies involving siblings. Supernatural is my favourite show because it combines lots of elements i love. To mention just a few: horror, mythology,classic rock and a strong family approach in its pretty tragic but outstanding plot. 

Sam and Dean are one of my favourite duo of bros of all time. I don’t think i have a lot to say about them because their relationship has been analized lots of times by the very big fanbase of the show. My main difference with the common interpretation is that i don’t see the Winchester family in a similar way to the movie versions of the Steward of Gondor and his sons, which means i don’t think John has been the shittiest father ever despite his many mistakes. Unlike movie Denethor he tried hard and in the interactions we saw of him with his boys he actually cares for both of them. 

This bros were the ones that made me realize in an actual concient way of my tendency to get too attached to families, story arcs regarding them and sibling love. I’m super attached to this story, i don’t know what the hell i’m going to do with my life once it ends. 

I will end this post here. It is more than sure that there would be a part two because i have tons of more brothers,sisters and other family relationships to talk about. 

Thanks to everyone who has read my very long ramble 

[throwing-summers-at-the-walls]

Hi, i hope you are feeling good! Im better than yesterday so i can finally answer you. First of all: i am so happy that you shared your fanfiction! i had a great time reading it! Im always open for more recs. Maybe your all time favorites? Or if you know some good h/c these are always welcome :) And YESSS please send me a link to your fanvids. -- yeah 13rw was super cursed. haha i also watched season 1 but thankfully i was able to sto watching becaue i could feel it making me feel bad (1)

I agree the suicide scene was just cringe (but i think i remember reading somewhere that they cut it out? idk) and overall this show just gave me the feeling that there was no hope and things are always getting worse instead of better and i hated that. but enough of that cursed show. can i just say i really admire how open you are about your feelings (like being suicidal and that) i realy, really admire this about you. i have so much respect for you that you can just share your feelings here (2)

I have never heard of ace attorney but that story you described sounds really good. and i get reading sth that isnt good for you and still doing it (because im a dumb bitch too :D) -- okay i might accept that Root will never grow on you (but i thought so too and look at me now :D) but i havent fully given up yet :)-- yes thats the girl. i think it was really sweet when she said that to Shaw. and i think Shaw appreciated it that someone tried to figure her out instead of just writting her off (3)

Shaw is really cool and definately also a badass and in combination with John its just great! but you will have to suffer trough some Shoot.  but maybe, maybe you will end up not hating Root. hope dies last (idk how the saying goes in english, sorry). -- Did you ever ship Caresse (in a romantic way)? cause sometimes i do and sometimes i dont and i get so confused about it :) but i think most of the time i like them more as friends. anyway her death really sucked and you are right with (4)

her death and them losing the library it felt like a different show (i mean i guess it was a different show then). i kinda get your feelings about the destroyed library because i also really loved it (and im really bad with change) but i dont think it affected me as much as you. but yeah i still missed the library very much. and while the subway is a really cool new place its not the same. (also the subway is super dark cause its underground and idk it just makes the whole thing less homey) (5)

Yes he is everything! such a great, interesting character and i wish there were more John-centric episodes! (like ones that explored his character more). that was one of my biggest dislikes of the later seasons that John wasnt featured as much anymore. i think he chuckled a few times in the show but a real laugh? i cant remember one :(  -- He did promise Joss to talk to Tyler so @show were is that talk? -- if seen the vid its awesome! thehiddenmemory has some great poi vids! (6)

yes i think so too. Like Grace would probably be relived and thankful that Harold is still alive and maybe they would even try again but eventually she would figure out that she cant trust him after lying to him for so long or sth like that and Harold would ofc realize that he is in love with someone else now. And then he finds out that John is still alive but stayed away cause he didnt want to get in the way of Harold/Grace. But then Harold comes back. And when they meet again John is like (7)

you came back for the machine? what about Grace. But Harold tells him he came back for John not the machine and then they kiss and have a happy live with Bear (sorry i got a little carried away here :D). -- Yeah Zoe is really hot and she needed more screen time! -- i hope you have a good day and i hope i havent messed up the numbers on the asks! :)

Hi ! I'm finally free from the resits, I hope you're doing okay with your thesis 💛

Sorry for replying late, there was the exam resits, and I read a bunch of fics, then I fell into pokémon and started bingewatching it. (Also I had a breakdown during therapy today so I'm gonna finish writing my answer to distract myself - it's been sitting in my drafts for so long rip)

Thank you !! It was a very personal thing, I'm really happy you liked it !! Your support and your comment made me thrive 💛💛

Tbh I was surprised to see it get kudos given that the only intended audience was my self projecting ass 🤣

So, my fav fics (my fav fic ever is in French, rip to y'all bc it's so good):

I am, I am, I am by RavenWhitecastle

Actually check the entire series this work belongs to: The Sinner and the Saint. I haven't finished it yet but I love it (I just skipped the explicit fics bc I don't like smut or sub!John)

Breaking All The Rules by talkingtothesky

Outsider Perspective by Neery

A Really Private Person by astolat

Hamartia (the hero's fatal flaw) by astolat

If Only for Tonight by spacemutineer

From Here, Where? by AKMars

Stroll by TheaNishimori

and the world was gone by lunarcorvid

a light that never goes out by vindicatedtruth

Limitations. by Michaelssw0rd

Reel you in and spit you out by Michaelssw0rd

All I Want For Christmas Is You by richmahogany

By What Power I Am Made Bold by brinnanza

Aftershocks by darringtons

At Certain Hours It All Breaks Down by nogoaway

construction of a kingdom by the_ragnarok

You Take Me Higher Than I've Gone by talkingtothesky

All Together Now by beadedslipper

I'll Let the Waters Still by brinnanza

Birthday Tradition by talkingtothesky

Things My Father Taught Me by KRyn

Truth is in the Eye of the Beholder by infiniteeight

Better Luck This Time by Lisztful

Motivations by JenNova

What's On the Table by cortue

In Another Life by Della19

I Thought We Already Were by talkingtothesky

Misunderstandings by thisstarvingartist

This is already fucking long omg so for the h/c: my bookmarks filtered with Rinch and h/c

Here's my playlist, it's mostly Rinch, but there are a few not Rinch vids, plus some scenes I like

This is long enough already, so it's time for a read more. Also, warning, we be talking about suicide

The portrayal of suicide is cringe most of the time anyway. If my suicidal ass can find a list of suicide methods and their lethality in 2 mins on Google you'd think writers who are supposed to do some research would be able to find them too but no they're like "ah yes slicing wrists" even though it's literally the shittiest method 🙄 (I just don't understand why slicing wrists seems to be such a popular method in the collective imagination ? It's weird.) At least in 13rw she took aspirin and cut herself vertically instead of horizontally but still, no hesitation wounds, and she dies even though she only got 4 wounds iirc ? I know more about jumping off bridges than slicing wrists, but it kinda sounds like bullshit to me. Also Netflix once suggested "beyond the reasons" to me, it's a sort of discussion with the cast and crew of 13rw and the only thing I remember is a moment of intellectual masturbation abt how they "opened a discussion abt suicide" 😬😬😬

They may have cut it out it's not impossible, idk I didn't hear about it, but it's not like I look for info about this dumpster fire lol. Maybe they faced backlash ? Wouldn't be surprised given how shit the show was. And yeah it has a hopeless vibe, I mean that's how it be when you're suicidal, but I didn't like it either.

You're sweet 💜💜 it's interesting that you find it respectable or admirable, I don't have an external point of view, so I'm just like 🤷 it is what it is. I understand where you're coming from though, I guess it's still quite a taboo subject, and suicidal people don't always feel comfortable talking about it, so me throwing around that I jumped off a bridge must be surprising. I'm detached enough from my suicide attempt that I'm able to talk about it without much of a problem, and I'm not really suicidal anymore.

Dumb bitches unite 👏👏👏 we be out there reading shit we shouldn't read

Yeah I think it's nice how the show didn't portray Shaw as a bad person for not having "normal feelings". Well, hope makes one live as we say in French (idk the English saying either lol) but don't hold much hope about me liking Root lmao

I used to ship careese bc they kissed in the crossing, but then I read some Rinch fics and I just ended up falling into it to the point where I stopped caring about careese. Now I think their relationship works better as a friendship.

Yeah all that change really puts me off... It just gives me "bad spin-off" vibes. Especially since there is less John :( and less Rinch :((((

Lmao yeah I just have a lot of feelings about early poi hgkfglrk. Also :/ I'm sad about the subway being less homey pls I just want happiness ?? I swear this show destroys my heart on top of owning my last braincell (brb changing my blog title to this lmao)

Mood I need all the John-centric eps, give me m o r e characterization and development and backstory and feelings hhhhhhh. I love him so much I just wanna spend more time with him. And that's what fics are for ! Yeah thehiddenmemory is so talented ! Astolat made some good ones too, on top of writing really good fics ! (Our fandom has been blessed with the presence of one of the ao3 founders hell yeah)

Also, remember how we talked abt the poi subreddit ? The other day I left a comment on there, wild I know. It wasn't a discussion about the last seasons though, I'm not crazy, it was about the impact poi had in our lives so I said it literally taught me English. Who knows maybe sometimes I'll comment again lol. I just don't wanna meet one of those people who prefer late poi over early poi.

Allow me to uuuuh write something based on what you said. Don't ask me how John survived with no major injuries, my man got that Thick Plot Armor alright. Hope you appreciate me getting carried away sjdkdksk it's kinda rushed and the first part isn't that good bc idk how to write Grace I'm just here for that sweet sweet Rinch stuff

Harold is eating breakfast with Grace in her kitchen – he can't think of her home as his home – when his phone vibrates. It's a text from the machine. It's a surprise, she barely contacted him since... He blocks the thoughts and the images coming to his mind. The machine sent him a picture. When he opens it, his heart misses a beat. Right here on his screen is a silhouette he thought he would never see again. His phone vibrates again. Another picture, this time it's unmistakably John, wearing his signature suit, Bear next to him. Transfixed, he stares at his phone until he feels Grace gently touching his arm. She goes straight to the point.

"Is it John ?" He looks up in confusion, but before he can say anything, she adds, "I hear you call him in your sleep every night."

"It's him, yes." He doesn't want to explain. He only wants to see John, to touch him, to tell him how much he loves him.

"You should go back to him. I like you, Harold. I am deeply relieved to see you alive. But I've been thinking, and... It's not working. This, us... You aren't really the man I fell in love with, the man I grieved... I can't trust you anymore." She doesn't say 'You lied to me' but Harold hears it all the same.

~

Harold sits on their bench. The machine indicated John often comes here. Soon enough, his arms are full of Bear, and John is standing in front of him.

"John. How are you ?" he asks when Bear finally calms down.

"Busy. And you ?"

Harold eyes him suspiciously – John once said he was busy when he was bleeding and way too close to death – but he seems to be well.

"I'm fine." He doesn't have time for awkward small talk." I thought you were dead. Why didn't you contact me ?"

"The machine told me you were with Grace. I thought you wanted to come back to your previous life. I didn't want to crash into it and ruin what you had."

Harold wants to be angry at him, but he understands. He did the same with Grace.

"You would never ruin anything. Besides, my relationship with Grace... didn't survive my lies. She's very dear to my heart, but she's a part of my previous life, as you said."

"So you came back for the machine, and the numbers, like the good old times ?"

Harold gets up from the bench.

"I came back for you. You are an important part of my life. The most important part."

John smiles, finally. He takes a step towards Harold, they're so close they could kiss. Harold reaches out, grips his shirt and slowly inches closer. He's still afraid of being rejected but John wraps his arm around him and kisses him. The kiss is over too soon. John's smile is even wider when they part.

"You're the most important part of my life too," he says before kissing Harold again. "You will stay ?"

"Always."

Damn I live for sappy Rinch stuff.

Bitches decided that Harold saying "always" is peak Rinch. It's me I'm bitches.

Also ofc I had to make a reference to number crunch, who do you think I am

Anyway. I hope you have a good day ! 💛

[wellhellotragic]

Be Alright (3/?)

Summary: Sometimes all it takes is one phone call to completely turn our lives upside down.

He’d left. That was all she’d known. He’d packed up in the middle of the night after a stupid fight, leaving no trace behind of where he’d gone. But when David’s phone rang one night telling them that Killian was in a hospital in Boston, everything changed. For Emma, it was the last call she ever expected and it meant facing the ghosts of her past and releasing everything she’d kept bottled up and hidden away.

But then again sometimes it’s the tragedies in our lives that finally let us feel again.

A/N: Better late than never right?

Previous chapters: 1, 2

If Ao3 is more your jam...

They were in Paris, sitting in a cafe just down the street from the Eiffel Tower. Two glasses of wine on the table as they took turns sharing their food with one another. A feeling of pure and complete peace descending upon her.

Things like that didn’t really happen though. Not to people like Emma. She should have realized that it was a dream right away, but part of her wanted to believe it. She’d had that same dream before, in happier times. The first time was just after Killian had finished something on one of his boats. There was a technical term for the way he’d sculpted the wood, carved into it, but she’d never bothered to really learn any of it. No, she’d always been content to just sit in a chair in his warehouse watching him work. Watching as the sweat beads rolled down his face, falling from his chin. The way his muscles flexed under his dampened shirt.

Watching him build his boats had always turned her on, even when they all went as a group to see his latest projects. He was an artist, his creations marvels. He was always so determined and focused, she and David would often have to drag him away. But on the days that she visited alone, she slowed him down immensely. Not that he’d complained. But that was in the beginning. Before she felt confident enough to let him sleep over. Instead she’d sneak a visit to him while he worked, letting herself become worked up in the process. They’d make love there. Sometimes on the couch he had in his office, sometimes on the deck of a boat that was barely large enough to fit one person.

It had been exciting in a way. The newness of whatever they had. The knowledge that they could get caught by an unsuspecting client. On that day, he’d been covered in paint and she jumped him the second he was done. They hadn’t even made it to his office, barely grabbing an old sheet he used as a tarp to shield them from the cold concrete floor. He was insatiable, and she reveled in it.

She dreamed that night. A tiny flickering of something as she curdled into his side on that tarp. It was she and Killian, in France. They toured vineyards, danced in their small third story walkup. They kissed and held each other without care. She was happy, and it terrified her, even in unconscious fantasies; the worry often ripping her stomach to shreds as she lay in bed after. She wasn’t lucky. She wasn’t the girl that got everything.

Every night after the images returned, growing over the months they spent together, until one night when she dreamt they were married and panicked. She woke clawing at her chest, struggling to breathe. Killian had done his best to soothe her, but she was inconsolable. The walls closed in and she felt trapped by the pressure of something unattainable.

She tried to tell him that she couldn’t do it anymore. That she couldn’t keep seeing him. That it would all blow up in her face eventually and the deeper she let him in, the more painful it would be. She tried to end it right then and there but he wouldn’t have it.

They talked all night, yelled, screamed, fought. But he wouldn’t leave. It was the first time she’d allowed herself to cry in front of someone. He just held her tightly and promised her that he would never ask more of her than she was willing to give. He promised to never push her for more. That he would never leave her.

The dreams stopped after that. The terror that always accompanied them falling away as well. She hadn’t even thought about them in years. Not until she dreamt it again sitting in a chair in his hospital room. But this time, she was content. The rush of adrenaline, the quickened heart beats, the constricting chest. All gone.

But it was all a lie. He did ask for more, and then he left. He abandoned her, moved on, and she was left with the dream, the nightmare. Trapped in her own mind, still able to feel his breath on the back of her neck as they danced on the terrace.

And then it was over. Shattered by the shreil beeping of his IV machine.

“Go back to sleep. I’m gonna go get a nurse to check on the machine and make sure something isn’t wrong.”

Emma blinked, trying to fight off the lingering vestige of sleep. To fight the heaviness of her eyelids. The beeping was intense and unabating. Opening her eyes a bit more, she saw a light flashing on the pump. Annoying as the sound was, it had done nothing to rouse him, something that worried her. He should have been up hours ago. That’s what the doctor said.

Mary Margaret and the nurse returned. The latter pushed a yellow button on the machine and the beeping stopped. She checked the bag hanging above it, and the lines leading to the machine, humming a little tune as she did so. Her fingers grazed down the line continuing into Killian’s wrist before she stopped, moving the palm closest to Emma a bit.

“Ah, I think I see the problem. The machine can be really temperamental and sometimes if you twist the hand a certain way it can set it off.”

Emma hadn’t even realized that she’d been holding his hand in her sleep. She must have pulled on it and messed up the needle.

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine dear. Just try to keep his wrist straight.”

The nurse gave her a smile and left the room, leaving the door wide open behind her. She hadn’t realized how late it was until she saw how well lit the hallway was compared to the room.

“Where are the guys?”

“Oh, they went and got some rooms at a hotel down the street.”

"Why are you still here then?"

She didn't mean for it to come out quite as harsh as it sounded to her ears.

"I didn't want to wake you just yet, so I figured I would hang around for a little bit. I guess I was hoping that he might be awake by now. I thought giving you the extra time to sleep might be enough, plus you look exhausted."

She felt exhausted. She'd barely slept since she'd arrived, and when she did sleep, it was only in small spurts, unable to get comfortable in that stupid tiny chair. The longest she'd managed was right before he got wheeled back for his emergency surgery.

"It is getting late though," Mary Margaret started back. "We should probably head to the hotel ourselves and get some rest. We can come back in the morning."

Emma's jaw dropped a little.

"Margs, I'm not leaving yet."

"Emma, when's the last time you really slept? And besides, wouldn't a bed be more comfortable?"

It would, but Emma thought her discomfort was a small cross to bear in comparison to everything Killian had been through.

"The chair really isn't that bad."

Her friend leveled her with a stare, the same one she often gave her students when the were being difficult.

"Emma, you're not good to anyone like this. Let's get some food and sleep. I bet Graham would appreciate spending some time with you. You've barely said two words to him since we got here this morning."

It was true. She'd been avoiding him as much as possible. She couldn't look at him, the guilt eating away at her. The guilt of having Graham there in Killian's hospital room. Of having Killian possibly waking up and the first person he saw being Graham. Of wondering if he’d be upset, or worse, if he wouldn’t even care having already moved on. Of knowing how much Graham cared for her and not being able to reciprocate in that moment. Knowing that if she went back to a hotel room she'd be forced to actually have a conversation with him. She didn't have the strength for any of it just yet.

"I can't leave him. I don't want him to wake up alone."

"Well then I'll stay and you go."

Emma squeezed her eyes shut, trying to force her frustration back down.

"Please, Margs. Just go. I'm fine here, okay?"

Mary Margaret studied her for a moment, letting out a sigh, finally conceding. Before leaving, she wrote the name of the hotel on a pad of paper from the night stand. She promised to be by early in the morning with a change of clothes from her suitcase. They weren't exactly the same size, but having just won one battle, Emma knew better than to start another fight.

She waved her friend away and waited. She waited for what felt like forever. The sunlight outside faded completely before it was replaced by the harsh glow of street lights from the nearby parking lot. She waited as she listened to family members saying goodbye to the other patients. The changing of the late night show turning into an infomercial. She waited.

Another hospital staff member came in about an hour later to check his vital signs again, seemling unbothered by his still slumbering state. Emma smiled at him as he typed away in the computer he’d rolled in.

“I’m sure he knows you’re here. That he can hear you.”

His words had taken her off guard. She’d become so accustomed to the silence.

“I’m sorry?”

“Well, there’s nothing to back it up, scientifically I mean, but I’ve been here for a while now and I’ve seen things. Patients that have loved ones talking to them tend to have better outcomes.”

“Oh, I’m not- I mean, we’re not.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

With a sad smile on his lips he left, not realizing that he’d left her heart imploding. She had been that once. A loved one. Then he’d left and found someone new. She was just a ghost to him now. The world’s shittiest ghost. The one dreaming about a man that had left her, crushed, while the world kindest man slept alone miles away. A man that loved her and deserved so much more than her traitorous heart could give.

“I, uh, I don’t know if you can really hear me or not. Hell, I don’t even know what to say. Not after all of this time.” Her voice caught and a lone tear fell down her cheek. “I guess I should tell you to fight. That’s what people do in these situations, right?”

That’s what they did in the movies at least. They listed off all of the things that they still had to live for. Loved ones and kids and life goals. But he didn’t have any of that anymore, not that she knew of. His brother was dead, his wife was dead, days had passed and no friends had come for him other than her family and boyfriend. For all she knew, he was alone in the world. Then again, she didn’t really know him, not anymore.

He was a stranger to her.

“Storybrooke hasn’t changed at all.”

Coward.

“Someone tried to bring in a Starbucks last year. The wanted to set up right across from Old Lady Lucas, but everyone rallied around Granny to keep them out of town. Went all the way up to the mayors off. And Grumpy got his one year sober chip about two months ago. None of us ever thought we see the day. What else? Oh, Ruby and Victor broke up. We had a girls trip to Vegas to cheer her up, and I guess it worked because she came back married to a woman. I walked in on them in the shower last week. Then they asked me to join them.”

It was a cheap shot but a small part of her hoped the idea of two women lathering each other up in a shower might be enough to peak his interest. That he might shoot up and give her some of that infamous innuendo he was so well known for.

Nothing though.

“Okay, well if that didn’t do it for you, I don’t know what will.”

She gave his hand a squeeze before standing up to stretch out her back. Mary Margaret was right, night after night in that tiny chair had really done a number on her spine. Soon she was going to have to admit defeat. If nothing else, just long enough to run to the hotel to clean up. The hospital staff had given her some washcloths and soap but there was no replacement for a hot shower.

Even as she excused herself, stepping into the bathroom to wash herself off one more time before calling it a night and settling in for another stretch of restless sleep, Emma felt guilty for wishing she was at home, in her own little apartment. Using her own shampoo and crawling into her own pajamas. She felt horrible for complaining to herself though. Not when Killian was about to have his entire life turned upside down. Assuming he ever actually woke up.

There was a very real possibility that it wouldn’t happen. She’d heard the doctor talking outside. Rounding as they called it. They’d said his head ct had come back clear, but she’d seen things. Heard horror stories from cops in surrounding counties about how one minute a guy seemed fine and the next he was gone. She knew that doctors weren’t perfect. They made mistakes. For God’s sake, they couldn’t even save his hand. They couldn’t save Milah either.

Milah. He didn’t even know. How was she supposed to tell the love of her life that the love of his was dead?

She turned on the water faucet and gave herself sixty seconds. One full minute to let herself fall apart. To let the tears fall and anger get the best of her. To let everything she’d been trying and failing to bottle up pour out.

When she was done, she turned the faucet off, letting her breathing calm. Looking in the mirror had been a mistake. Her face was puffy, eyes blotchy red. She was a mess. Plain and simple. Not that it mattered in the middle of the night when the only person around was fast asleep. In a coma, actually. Isn’t that what it was?

She had to fight off a new wave of tears thinking of it that way. She needed to shut her brain down before it got the best of her. If she kept up at the rate she was going, he’d be a ghost in her mind before she ever even left the bathroom.

Drying her face and trying her best to shake the thoughts from her mind, she opened the bathroom door and turned off the light. It was a struggle finding her way back to the chair, her eyes no longer used to the darkness in the room. She’d held her breath as she stubbed her toe on the foot of his hospital bed, not wanting to wake up other patients with her screams. It was fine, she didn’t really need that toe anymore anyway.

With the sting still running up her foot and leg, she grabbed the blanket she’d been using and curled back up into the chair. She’d only just found a position that didn’t make her want to die when she heard a voice in the dark.

“Who's Grumpy?”

[outerspaceisbetterthannothing]

Stuck with me [Ashton Irwin] Ch.1

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

Summary: Can a sudden meeting really change your life for the better? Or will it be just another mistake they made?

A/N: okay, so this wasn’t planned at all and I blame Aria @paqueretteash for getting me in my Ashton mood. But I really really like where this is going so far. Also the last album by The Neighbourhood was a big inspo, so you can def use “24/7”, “Scary love” and “Stuck with me” for the atmosphere. The feedback is extremely appreciated. Enjoy

Warnings: none, apart from couple of curse word probs

Chapter 1

Early spring breeze was life saving. Ashton took a deep breath of fresh air and suddenly realised that he didn’t want to get back inside that club. It was just another, quite usual night they were spending out after a studio day. He didn’t even care anymore whose idea it was to go to the club or what party they were at or what were celebrating. He stopped keeping track of that just like he stopped keeping track of time. It was definitely much easier this way. And much safer too.

His phone vibrated in his back pocket. He considered the idea of picking up, he really did. But then he just decided not to. The night was so wonderful he basically didn’t need anything more right now. Or anybody for that matter.

Ashton looked back at the club entrance. Music was blasting, a line of drunk and high people waiting for their chance to get more drunk and high. What was he even doing there?

He shook his head answering his own thoughts, crossed the road and just walked down the street. He wasn’t going to walk the whole way back to his house, just wanted to spend some time outside before calling an Uber. So he just walked, down the street and then around the corner and down another street full of other clubs and bars. He was passing some people here and there, lonely or in small groups, happy or sad, couple girls even crying. Everybody’s searching for something on the night streets of LA. And no one's caring for him. It was so peaceful like that, no friends around, no fans screaming and taking numerous photos, nothing and no one to distract him.

Ashton didn’t know, how much time he spent like that. But one moment everything somehow changed. He just felt that strange urge inside of him, he stopped and looked at the other side of the road. She was there. A young girl, she was sitting on the sidewalk not far from some bar’s entrance. Her dress was ripped at the hem, at least he thought it was ripped. Maybe it was just some strange fashion or something. But her shoulders were definitely shaking and she was wiping her cheeks, so she was obviously crying. Ashton looked both sides of the road and crossed the street.

Trying not to question his own motives, he came up to the girl and sat down next to her. He could hear her sobbing while walking towards her, but the moment she noticed him, all the sounds stopped.

She looked at him warily and tried to move away.

“Do you, maybe, need help?” Ashton asked in a soft tone, understanding with delay that he had probably scared her.

“Do I look like I need help?” she answered, her voice is still wary and her eyes not leaving his face for a moment.

Ashton laughed at that and looked at her. Suspicion was still all over her face, but behind it Ashton could see anger and… despair?

“Frankly, yes,” he admitted. “You look exactly like you need help.”

She just shrugged and looked away.

“Not like it’s any of your business.”

“True,” Ashton agreed easily. “But what if I still can help you?”

She sighed and asked in an extremely tired voice, “Seriously, dude, what do you want from me? I’m not in a mood to be picked up tonight. And so you know, in case you have anything on your mind, my friends are about to walk out of that bar and I also can scream very loudly.”

“I’ll take that into consideration if I decide to rape or kidnap you, thanks,” Ashton chuckled.

“You must think you’re so funny.”

“Actually, I know I’m funny. From time to time I can even be hilarious,” Ashton agreed, taking his phone out of his jeans pocket. “And in case you ever meet real maniac or rapist on the street so late at night, consider being a little more convincing.”

“The hell are you-”

“You’re sitting on a pavement and crying at almost two in the morning, while your friends are drinking inside?” he pointed out, all the amuse gone. “You either have the shittiest taste in friends, or there are no friends of yours in that bar,” he stated unapologetically, watching her eyes filling with tears. “And judging by your expression, the second option is closer to the truth.”

“Fuck you!”

She didn’t let him say anything in return. The next thing Ashton knew was her walking away fast and him still sitting on a pavement. He jumped up and rushed after her.

“Hey, I’m sorry, okay! Didn’t mean it wrong,” he tried to make her if not stop, then at least slow down. “Just let me help you, okay?”

But she just dropped over her shoulder, “Don’t need your help.”

Ashton sighed and hurried in an attempt to catch up with her, which wasn’t so difficult thanks to height difference.

“Okay, I got it. But let me just order you an Uber, please?”

At this she immediately stopped, eyes glued to the pavement under her feet and arms tight around her shoulders. Ashton took it as a positive sign. He switched his phone on and tapped at an Uber logo.

“Seriously, it’s going to be like the fastest way to get rid of me,” he chuckled again, looking  at her and trying to read her face. “Just tell me the address. I promise I won’t follow you like some kind of lunatic.”

But she just stood there, looking at the ground and keeping silence. Ashton’s smile dropped. He basically understood nothing. What did that mean? And then he saw tears streaming down her cheeks, her shoulders started shaking again. Ashton raised a hand to her arm, but then hesitated for a moment. Could he touch her? Would she let him? What if not?

But then she started going down back on her knees, and he forgot all his questions. He grabbed her, preventing her from falling and pulled into his chest, holding her tightly and feeling her shoulders shake in silent sobs. So they stood like that, she was crying her heart out and he was just holding her, a girl he knew nothing about, not even a name.

Soon the tears ended and she pulled away, wiping her cheeks again.

“Thanks,” she mumbled. “And sorry.”

“That’s okay,” Ashton assured her, feeling wet spots from her tears on his shirt get cold from the breeze. “So, after I haven’t killed you in so long, would you let me order you a taxi?”

She looked at him with wide eyes, obviously astonished by his ability to joke at such a moment, but then to their mutual surprise she snorted. And then she shook her head and looked away.

“I’m afraid that’d be a problem,” she explained.

Ashton frowned, “Why is that?”

She took a deep breath, suppressing new wave of tears and answered, “Because I have nowhere to go.”

Ashton sighed too, mirroring her, and went back to the Uber app.

“What are you doing?” she asked, watching his manipulations, the wary expression back on her face.

“Getting an Uber,” he explained like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“To where?”

“To my place.” Ashton finished placing an order, switched the screen off and looked up at her.

“And you expect me to go with you?” she asked, taken aback by his bold move.

“Yes, I do. Unless spending nights on the street is some kind of hobby of yours,” Ashton snapped back suddenly feeling irritated. He just wanted to help. Was it so difficult to comprehend? Or so difficult to accept?

“I can’t go with you!” she stated stubbornly, her look at the ground again.

“And why is that?” he asked, his body started to feel tired and numb.

“I don’t even know your name!”

“It’s Ashton. And if I wanted to kill you or something, I’d already do it.”

“Oh, thank you, now I feel much safer!” she snarled.

“You also know that I’m a funny type of guy. People often know less about each other before one night stands, so if I were you, I wouldn’t be so picky.”

“But you don’t even know my name!” she exclaimed as in the last attempt to find any valid reason for it to be a bad idea.

Ashton at the same time was just standing there, looking at her and loosing in the battle of trying to hide his smile. A car stopped right behind his back. His phone clicked, signaling that was their car.

“What’s your name?” he asked, smile still on his face.

Her shoulders went down. “It’s Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you, Y/N,” Ashton chuckled, opened car’s door and waved his hand, inviting her. “Now, shall we?”

But she stood there still and kept watching him.

“I promise, in the morning you can go wherever you want and I won’t try to stop you. But now, please, get in the damn car.”

Ashton knew he probably pushed too much, hard expression on his face and ice in his tone. But he was tired from both the long day before and their ridiculous conversation. He just needed her to get into that car and go home and fall asleep. And maybe deal with it in the morning. Or maybe not. Whatever. Now he just needed her to do as he told and he didn’t give a fuck if he could scare her off. But unexpectedly, that was exactly what finally set her in motion.

She threw him another angry look and dived into the darkness of a taxi backseat without any other word. Ashton followed suit, thinking what a crazy night it happened to be and wondering what waited for them in the morning.

He looked at her face, flashes of street lamps lighting it up every couple of seconds.

What a crazy night…

***

The house was dark and empty. Nothing new.

Aston suppressed another sigh and moved toward the kitchen. He dropped his keys on a kitchen island and opened the fridge. He couldn’t hear her steps, her flats producing no sound at all, but somehow he knew, she was behind him. He could feel her eyes burn a hole in his head.

“Want anything?” he asked, grabbing a bottle of water.

He looked back when didn’t hear her answer, wondering if his feelings played tricks on him. But no, there she stood, right next to the kitchen island, looking around utterly surprised and obviously feeling like a fish out of water. Ashton followed her look and chuckled. He also asked himself sometimes why he’d need such a big house.

She looked at him slightly scared by the sound of his laugh.

“No, thanks,” she answered, shivering under his look.

Ashton shrugged, closed the fridge and motioned her to follow him, “Let’s go then.”

They crossed spacious living room, went up the stairs. One of the guest rooms was right next to the stairs, but under some impulse Ashton passed it, heading further. He opened the last door in the corridor and wanted to turn on the light, but stopped himself the last moment. As if light could ruin something. As if there was anything left to ruin in this house.

“You can stay here,” he mumbled, letting her come inside. “There’s a shower there,” he pointed to the bathroom door and looked again at her. She was looking back at him, wide-eyed like she was still surprised by his acting. She moved past him and looked around the room, feeling natural in the dark just like him. The hem of her dress, still a question for Ashton, brought an idea.

“You need something to change in, hold on a moment,” he said, leaving the room abruptly.

“Like I have a place to run to…” he heard her whisper back in the room and smiled. There was something endearing in her gloomy sarcastic remark.

He was back in no time, handing her his sweats and some band tee. And earning another exasperated look. Ashton felt his shoulders sink. He already opened his mouth to say that it was just clothes, nothing much. And that it was only natural to have a shower after sitting on a dusty pavement for God knows how long. And that she doesn’t need to be afraid of him doing something inappropriate if she steps into the shower in his house. And even that he didn’t really want her to sleep in one of his beds in a dirty dress, even if he wasn’t the one to clean the bed later. He really wanted to tell her off, but then he decided to keep it to himself. Just because she was standing there in the darkness of his guest bedroom and Aston suddenly realized how tiny she was. She was lost, all alone in the city, God knows what shit she had in her life if she had nowhere to go to in the middle of a night. And she was in the house of a guy she’s never seen before. She definitely deserved a medal for not combusting that very moment because of everything happening around her. Ashton stepped forward, trying not to come too close to her. He put his clothes on the bed and took couple steps back to the door.

“I’ll just leave it here. You can use it if you want. Or not, it’s up to you.”

She didn’t say anything in return, not a single gesture could prove that she even heard him.

“If you need anything or decide to kill me in my sleep, my room is opposite to yours,” he jokingly informed.

But no answer again. She was standing there, watching his every move, but producing no reactions.

So Ashton found nothing better than to leave without any other word.

He closed her door behind him and in one big step crossed the corridor, diving in the serenity of his own bedroom. He fell on the bed, carefully made by his housekeeper after he left in the morning, and heard the muted sound of the shower in her bedroom.

He couldn’t help his smile and finally relaxed, falling asleep faster than ever.

***

Y/N opened her eyes lazily. Her head hurt a little, no surprise after everything she’d drunk last night. Dim morning light crept up the duvet, the bed too comfortable to think of leaving it. Strange, but it was strikingly more comfortable than usual.

She sat up harshly and looked around an unknown bedroom. The memories of last night coming to her in waves, making everything so clear and so scary.

She creeped out of bed and looked at her dress in hesitation. The dress was dirty, ripped at the hem, and what was even worse, it was his favourite dress. She didn’t want to put it on at all. Y/N went to the bathroom and inspected herself in the mirror. Her flats would look really odd with that guy’s sweats. Could she just sneak out in these clothes? Not like that dude could miss them, judging by this house, he could afford a ton of such sweats and tees. But still, they weren’t hers to take. Y/N sighed heavily, washed her face and changed back in her dress. She felt awful, dirty, used and betrayed. But all of this was better than stealing. No matter what happened to her (and what was about to happen), she still had some dignity left.

She looked out of a huge window, trying to understand what time it was. She couldn’t remember, where she left her phone, and there was no clock in this bedroom. But the sky wasn’t of much help, all grey and gloomy it hid the sun from her eyes.

She folded the clothes she’d slept in neatly and left it on the cover of freshly made bed. Then she opened the door, noticing that her hands were shaking slightly and went downstairs.

Y/N couldn’t understand why she was so nervous. Half of her was praying for the owner of the house to still be asleep, so she could just go away never to remember him again. Half of her wanted to see him again. Look in his eyes in the daylight and maybe even thank him for his kindness.

First she heard the sound of something being fried. Then she saw him, with his back to her. Ashton was cooking breakfast for himself, oblivious to the fact that there was an audience. He was in a pair of sweats matching ones he'd given her and a plain black tee. She could hear him humming some melody but she didn't recognize the song. Y/N took couple more steps forward and tried to think of what to say to attract his attention, but her brain was empty. And normal phrases seemed too awkward.

“How did you sleep?” Ashton asked not looking at her. He didn't even move his head a little to catch a glimpse of her standing there. Everything about him was strange.

“How did you know I was here?” Y/N asked.

Now he looked over his shoulder, smile on his face.

“Your sight can burn holes in the walls. Kinda difficult not to notice you,” he chuckled. “So how did you sleep?”

He switched the stove off and opened a cupboard in search for a plate.

“Okay, thank you,” Y/N answered. “And thank you for letting me stay the night, but I have to go, so…”

Ashton put two plates on the counter.

“Won't stay for breakfast?”

Y/N looked at him with the same astonishment in her eyes as she did the previous night. She literally couldn't wrap her head around this man's actions.

“I've here toasts and omelette with some veggies. And there's some pretty good coffee. I'm sure you could use some after last night,” and he winked, putting a plate with food in front of her and turning on the coffee machine.

“So it's bed and breakfast?” she couldn’t help but snort.

“Don't get me wrong, I don't usually cook for girls in the morning. Just made too much for one this time.”

“That's exactly what I thought,” Y/N nodded but didn't move closer.

Ashton shrugged. “Come on, we both survived last night, which proves that no one's a maniac here. Doesn't it give us a right to enjoy some breakfast?” he waved to the chair. “Please?”

Y/N didn't want to stay. It was difficult to explain, just an odd feeling in the back of her mind. She knew the longer she stayed, the harder it was gonna be for her to leave. But she was hungry, and coffee smelled heavenly.

So she gave in and sat at the table.

“Black coffee? Or with milk?” Ashton asked, satisfied with her decision.

“With milk,”she answered, still looking shy and a little confused. “And sugar if you have it.”

Ashton chuckled on her choice and put everything on the kitchen island in front of her. Y/N hummed a thank you, fetched herself a cup of coffee and picked up a fork. She took a first bite under his stare.

“That’s very good,” she said, figuring he was waiting for her reaction.

Ashton nodded but didn’t look away from her as he didn’t touch his breakfast either.

“So, what exactly happened to you?” he asked a moment later, making it difficult for her not to groan out loud. That was so predictable, and so off the point. She should have just gone when she had a chance. Now he would ask her about all that shit, making her re-live all of it while telling him. And then he would give her some ass awful advice only a well-off person could give to somebody from absolutely different social level. And then they part. He would just go on with his day feeling totally satisfied with how he helped her and showed her the way out (which she, of course, had gladly taken). While she would just feel even shittier than before and with the same problems and no idea what to do.

“I mean, I know it’s not really my business,” Ashton admitted as there was only one way to interpreter her silence.

“It’s not,” she agreed, still looking at the plate in front of her.

“But you know, sometimes you just need to speak about it out loud to make it all a little better.”

She let a humorless laugh and looked up at him to note, that saying it all out loud won’t do her any good. But the look in his eyes stopped her the very moment. The was no patronizing in his eyes, no smug superiority. His look was calming and soft and warm. She couldn’t help but blurt, “I broke up with my boyfriend.”

He nodded, “I’m sorry.”

She looked back at her plate and took a coffee cup, starting to twist it nervously on the table surface. “That’s okay, I suppose. Not like he ended up being a good guy after all.”

“Still a shitty situation.”

She didn’t say anything in reply. Shitty didn’t even start to describe all of it.

“So you lived with him?” Ashton asked again. “That’s why you said you had nowhere to go?”

Y/N nodded again.

“Why not go crash at one of your friends’?” he frowned.

Y/N smiled and shook her head. “It’s all very complicated, Ashton,” she noted quietly and switched her attention back to her omelette. She was very hungry after all.

Ashton also picked up his fork and for several minutes it was just them eating breakfast.

“How old are you?” he asked, trying again to make  this conversation work.

“Nineteen.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Why don’t you go back to your parents then?”

“You’re not gonna give up that easily, aren’t you?” she asked not sure to get pissed or amused over his persistence.

“Nope, that’s just not me,” he shook his head smiling.

And suddenly, just from the look of his smile, Y/N started sobbing. She lowered her eyes, hid her face in her hands in an attempt to calm herself down. She heard the fridge door open and close the moment later, and then he put something in front of her. She moved her hands to be able to look. He put a chocolate mousse next to her plate and a spoon. She sniffed one last time and looked at him quizzically.

Ashton shrugged, “You can’t really cry while eating a chocolate mousse.”

She snorted. “Wanna bet?”

But then she took a spoon, opened mousse and dig into it.

“So, I’ve met Josh last spring. We with my two best friend were at some college party, and he was there too,” she looked up at Ashton again. He looked taken aback by her consent to speak after all. “Josh is my, well, now definitely ex-boyfriend,” she explained.

“I figured,” he nodded, finally sitting down.

“So, he was there. And it was like, I don’t know, love at first sight. I left that party with him, even though I was never that kind of girl. But I could never say no to him. Guess that’s what got me here,” she chuckled. “We didn’t even do anything that night, just drove around my neighbourhood till the sunrise. I was crazy about him. He was all I could think or speak about. Which really pissed all of my friends, they never liked him. But it was spring, we were finishing school and they found it in them to bear with me.”

She took another spoon of mousse, making a short pause in her story. She wasn’t looking at Ashton while speaking, but could feel him looking at her face intensely.

“He was all the live-free kind of man. I saw he was a definition of trouble as people like my father would say. Maybe that was exactly what tempted me so much. I was about to go to Berkeley, study law, had all this life plan my dad made up for me. But Josh though it was stupid. Education is a waste of time, especially law school,” she shrugged. “Spend years learning Latin to become a part of the system which oppresses people. We were spending nights on the beach watching stars and that was honestly the only life I wanted to have in the future. All dreams of successful career lost. So you can imagine the reaction of my Dad, when I said I wasn’t going to Berkeley. We had a huge fight at home. And we didn’t use to fight with my Dad at all,” she paused again, finishing her mousse. “I just packed some clothes and went to Josh. He said I did the right thing. Dad tried to reach me, but I was too stubborn to listen to him. And I was eighteen already, so he didn’t have any legal way to bring me back home.”

She shrugged again, turning back to what was left of her omelette.

“That’s even tastier after mousse,” Y/N said couple moments after that.

Ashton chuckled. “I should include it in the recipe.”

He watched her eat for some time more, before asking, “Why didn’t you go to one of your friends?”

She sighed with a mouthful of omelette.

“Well, they were all pretty much against me moving in with Josh and not going to college. And they expressed their opinion straight, so I kinda broke all the ties,” she shrugged. “They are all in colleges around the country now, anyway.”

Ashton rubbed his chin getting deep in his thoughts. She finished her omelette and looked at him again with a shy smile.

“What are you gonna do now?” he asked.

Y/N shrugged, drinking her coffee in silence.

“I still need to get back to Josh’s place to get my stuff. Hope he at least grabbed my purse and my phone yesterday,” she mused out loud.

“You gonna stay with him?” he asked again in the same serious tone.

She frowned. “God, no, of course no,” she shook her head. “Not after what happened yesterday.”

“So what are you gonna do?” Ashton kept pushing her.

She sighed. Looked up at him again. They both understood it at the same moment. She had not a slightest idea what to do. He wasn’t going to let that happen.

“You can live here,” he offered carefully.

“Thanks, but no,” she replied even before he finished his sentence.

“Why the fuck no?” Ashton chuckled in disbelief. He was more than prepared for her reaction, knowing couple of things about her already, but it still amused him. “Not like you’ve got much of a choice!”

“Yes, thank you for reminding,” she growled back and hid her face in her hands again.

“Listen, you don’t wanna get back to your dickhead boyfriend. And you’re not ready to get back to your Dad, and have no other relatives and friends as I understood,” he listed, looking at her. “And I can definitely spare a room.”

“Since when is it a reason?” she mumbled from behind her hands.

“Since I wanna help.”

She took a deep breath, put her hands down on her lap and said, “Thank you for that, but I can’t just start living with a guy I met less than twelve hours ago.”

“I’m not asking you to live with me. I’m offering you a position of a roommate!”

Y/N raised her eyebrow. “A roommate?” she repeated skeptically. Ashton nodded, his face lit up with a hint of a smile. “Not sure if I can afford half of the rent,” she mumbled, looking around his place.

“We can call it a deal with a delayed payment,” he shrugged nonchalantly.

She shook her head in disbelief. “Okay, but i still can’t do that.”

“Why?” Ashton uttered.

“Because you’re obviously crazy!”

“I’m not crazy,” he stated in a much calmer voice. “But I have a younger sister. She’s couple years younger than you and also extremely stubborn. I wanna believe that if she’s ever ends up at a situation like this,which I hope she wouldn’t, there’ll be somebody to look after her.”

“I’m not stubborn,” she almost pouted. Ashton gave her a look, but didn’t say anything about it. They just sat there glaring at each other, she was not ready to give in, he was not ready to give up.

“Just for a while,” Ashton almost pleaded couple minutes later. “Just till you understand what to do next and get your act together again.”

But Y/N kept staring at him in her silent thinking.

“For a couple of days at least?” Ashton wasn’t ashamed of the begging tone anymore. He had to make her stay. He didn’t really understand why. She was right about everything, they were just two strangers, shouldn’t have cared for each other, and he did act like a crazy guy. But he had to make her stay. That much he knew for sure. “I won’t forgive myself if I let you go and then find out something bad happened to you.”

And with that she sank on the table. “Okay,” he heard her muted groan.

“Okay?” Ashton asked not fully ready to believe his victory.

“Okay,” Y/N repeated, moving up. “But only for couple of days. And only as a roommate,” she added rather awkwardly.

Ashton snorted, “And about that you shouldn’t be worried at all.”

Y/N made a face, while Ashton took their plates and put them into the sink. He rushed in the living room then, put on a black hoodie with a roman numeral three and picked up his car keys from a coffee table.

“So are you going or what?” he threw in her direction, heading straight to the front door.

“Going where?” Y/N asked. She was utterly at a loss with his mood swings and his hastiness.

Ashton stopped right before the doors and looked at her, bright smile on his face. “I thought you wanted to get your stuff?”

***

[magdaclaire]

Okay I thought of another one: so Shane being protective is my life blood, but what about Ryan being protective?? What would that look like? Thnx ilysm

Me? Answering a prompt 3 months late? Sorry, Mar! Hope you enjoy!

His jaw is clenched hard enough that Ryan can almost taste blood in his mouth, even as he knows that he hasn't broken any skin. He doesn't like to watch Shane get scared, because he's a good fucking friend and this is ridiculous, this VR gaming shit could be tested out on someone else. He hates their job sometimes, hates that sometimes he or Shane would get signed onto shit they would normally never do themselves, and he hates it a lot when Shane is twitching at nothing and shouting. He wants to punch one of their executives, and it’s not even really their fault; they’re as much a part of the system as he and Shane are. 

When it’s all said and done, Shane looks pumped, like he’s just run a fucking marathon without the sweat, and Ryan just feels like ripping someone’s fucking head off. He’s not mad at Shane for not being affected by his own fear afterwards, but he is mad at literally everyone else for making Shane get scared in the first place. He’s just being a good friend. And if being a good friend means walking Shane back to their shared desk after that horror VR session, well, then that’s what Ryan does. The rest of the day passes with Ryan growing increasingly more snappish with most everyone, though least of all with Shane. It’s the oddity of Ryan not getting mad at him that has Shane wanting to ask questions. It’s their usual movie night tonight, so Shane seizes the opportunity to interrogate Ryan once they’re in the other’s apartment. 

“Uh. Ry? Have you been okay today?” Shane asks as he toes off his shoes by Ryan’s front door, passing his coat to Ryan to hang up. They’ve had the same routine every Thursday for the past two years, and Shane sinks into the familiarity of it even as much as he hates asking questions. Meanwhile, Ryan swallows as he prepares himself to lie, throwing together a response in his head like the shittiest mixtape of all time. 

“What? I’m good. Just another day at the office,” he jokes, shrugging off his own jacket to put next to where he puts Shane. Ryan decidedly does not linger in looking at how his hoodie looks next to Shane’s denim jacket, the picture of domesticity. He toes off his shoes next to Shane’s as well, again not lingering on his sneakers next to Shane’s, and not thinking about how this arrangement could look every day of his life instead of on Thursdays and the occasional Saturday. He doesn’t think about wanting Shane around all the time, about wanting to cover Shane with his body and keep everything out. He doesn’t think about holding Shane close to his chest and focusing solely on him. 

“Bullshit, Bergara. You’ve been snappy and shit since lunch, and explanations are cool! You snapped at Quinta earlier - are you trying to die?! I just wanna know why you’re freakin’ out, man,” Shane says the last part soft, because he thinks it might work better, and he tries not to feel satisfied as Ryan deflates from his little posturing stance. Shane watches as Ryan sits cross legged on the couch, simply sitting next to him instead of prompting him further before he’s ready. Ryan contemplates jumping out of his own window before running into the fact that he’s going to have to actually tell Shane what’s up, or the giant will never leave it alone. It’s a little funny that Shane thinks it started at lunch though; VR was an hour before lunch. 

“I’m not freaking out. I don’t know. The VR shit was... wild.  Set my teeth on edge, I guess,” Ryan explains with explaining, trying to keep it as brief as possible, because Shane isn’t an actual idiot. Shane’s actually a pretty smart guy, it’s one of the things that Ryan likes about him, but it would take him a long time to enumerate the things he likes about Shane, so we’ll keep it at that. He can see the consideration on Shane’s face and he doesn’t like it, wishes he hadn’t said anything at all. Shane has a moment, and then a light bulb basically flashes above his head. 

“You weren’t even in the... Ryan. Why would the VR have freaked you out? I was in there, not you,” Shane leads, raising an eyebrow. He’s gonna look really fuckin’ dumb if he’s wrong about this, so he’s not going to leap to that conclusion himself. Ryan Bergara’s dumb ass will have to dig his own hole, though, if he freaked out for the reasons that Shane thinks he did, it’s not much of a hole at all. In fact, if it’s for the reasons Shane thinks, it’s basically a fucking miracle, and Shane’s chest feels warm just from thinking he could be right. Immediately to his left, Ryan Bergara goes through the five stages of grief in fast forward. 

“I don’t like it when you’re... scared. You’re my friend, and it fre- it’s not my favorite thing, when you’re saying you’re scared, because you never say that kinda shit and... I never want you to be scared. It makes me... well it makes me snap at our coworkers, for example,” Ryan finishes, attempting to lighten it up with a joke. The friend thing nearly throws a wrench in Shane’s light mood, but he can work with wording. 

“You protective, Bergara?” Shane asks, raising his eyebrows. He’s delighted when Ryan can’t seem to look him in the eye, and more cemented in his assumption. “Are you, Ry?” Shane asks, same tone of voice but just a little more stringent, imploring, just a touch more tense. Ryan actually looks up this time, but his eyes are focusing just above Shane’s shoulder, he can tell. It’s an acting trick that Shane learned in improv too. 

“Maybe a little. Fuck off, Madej. I don’t like... seeing you scared. I never want you to be scared,” Ryan repeats, still not looking directly at Shane. It takes all the self control that Shane has not to tilt Ryan’s chin up and just kiss that expression off of his face. He’s a little shocked to say the least when Ryan pulls him over, pulling Shane against Ryan’s neck and holding him there as Shane relaxes into it. It’s not the development he expected, but he’s not mad. 

“You okay, Ryan?” Shane asks, settling with his arms around Ryan’s neck, his torso stretched awkwardly across the couch. It doesn’t hurt, as much as it’s slightly uncomfortable, so Shane doesn’t really mind it. Ryan’s hand is awkward on the back of his neck, but Shane finds himself not minding that either. 

“Sorry,” Ryan says quietly, the most insecure small thing that Shane has ever heard him say, and that’s not okay. Shane doesn’t know exactly what he’s thinking when he slides into straddling Ryan’s lap, but he knows that he wants to be closer to Ryan, and he thinks Ryan may feel the same way. He hopes, anyway. “Uh. Shane?” Ryan asks, unsettled, but he also doesn’t push Shane out of his lap. 

“I like the protective streak. I like you. I don’t know how to do this and talk like a grown up. I really hope this is okay,” Shane rambles a little bit against Ryan’s neck, not willing to look at the other man’s face. He’s reassured as Ryan’s hands land on his thighs, squeezing them and keeping Shane on Ryan’s lap securely. He feels secure in Ryan’s hold, and even so much as he usually feels safe, secure is new. 

“God, I like you too. I was a dick at the office because I like you and our execs get to scare you and that’s not okay but they’re literally our bosses so I can’t exactly... I don’t know how to describe it. I almost punched Eugene in the face when he got too close to you in the kitchen during a break. That would not have been fun. He was just getting milk. I’m sorry I’m like this - and I would like to provide that I just almost said lmao out loud,” Ryan finishes, laughing against Shane’s throat. Shane can feel the vibration of it against his chest and it’s fantastic, getting to feel it as well as hear it. He sits back to look Ryan in the face. 

“You just did say lmao out loud, you realise that, right?” he jokes, poking Ryan in the pudge of his stomach. 

“Shut up, Shane,” Ryan laughs, and Shane knows that this won’t change any of the good things. 

[starcitysirens]

[fic] A Wednesday Evening in Late June

Title: A Wednesday Evening in Late June. Pairing: Sara Lance/ Rip Hunter Rating: PG Word Count: 1800 Summary: Reaction fic for 3x01. Six weeks after Rip disbands the Legends, Sara runs into him at a bar. Inspired by Sara's line in 3x01 about running into one of Rip's agents and stealing his entrance badge. This is a scenario where that agent is actually Rip himself. Notes: I'm sure writing a variation of this is required for every writer in the fandom. I couldn't resist. Special thanks to @teruel-a-witch for being my sounding board for this.

{read on ao3}

A Wednesday evening in late June, 2017, the shittiest bar in Star City. Beer-sticky counters and cracked peanut shells on the floor. A man sitting at the bar. In his clean, bureaucrat suit, he stands out as a thing that doesn’t belong.

An anachronism.

She’d recognized the back of his head as soon as she walked into the bar. That ridiculous haircut. The sell-out suit. It’s not enough for him that he took her ship, her job, her city, now he’s gotta show up in her bar, too. But she’ll be damned if she lets him keep it.

She mentally unfurls her laundry list of grievances, fully intending to make him hear every one of them. There's no magic time portal that can save his smug ass from her wrath this time. So she takes the empty seat to his right (and isn’t that ironic) and waits for him to notice her. When he turns, he looks at her through red-rimmed, tired eyes and there's no surprise there, just the somber, heavy resignation she's used to seeing him carry. Disappointment tempers her ire down to irritation.

He’s already drunk.

Back up. Rewind:

Around six o’clock on a Wednesday evening in late June, 2017, a man walks into a bar.

The place, a dive bar at street level with three apartments upstairs, smells like cheap booze and cigarettes. Four or five men, middle aged, are drinking at the bar. They are probably construction or maintenance workers, blue-collared, unlike the man who’s just walked in. But like him, they seek to drown themselves in cheap, bitter drink to postpone arriving home alone to face the scary emptiness. He flags the bartender, orders a scotch, and keep them coming, he says.

Tonight, he intends to forget.

Fast forward, three, four hours. A woman walks into a bar. She is angry and he is already drunk.

It’s been six weeks, but the sight of him still boils her blood, the betrayal burning like a fresh wound, and she wonders if he will ever stop getting under her skin.

It’s been six weeks, but really, it's been five long and lonely years and the sight of her, so alive in her anger, still leaves him dumb.

“Miss Lance,” he says. Her name feels heavy on his liquor soaked tongue. Yet inescapable.

“Rip,” she answers, intentionally despoiling him of any of his titles, bringing him down to her lowly civilian level. If looks could kill he’d fall over dead on the spot.

The air between them hums with all the things they haven't said. Their silence, negative space. If one squints just so her anger transforms into hurt, his dismissiveness into longing.

In front of them, on the TV above the bar, a teary woman talks to a reporter about the mystery blonde woman who saved her from an attacker. That woman is a hero, she says.

His lips quirk up in a sloppy smirk.

“Gee, I wonder who that was.”

“Screw you,” she says, resenting the sarcasm in his voice.

“Ah, there she is.” She’d managed to make it a whole three minutes without cursing him. He's impressed.

“ Was that something else I was supposed to give up on your decree? What do you want from me?”

“Well, you have to admit, you're not exactly being very subtle, miss Lance.”

Of course it would be about that.

“Are you afraid I might save the wrong person and upset your new friends at the Bureau? Are you afraid you might have to come after me?”

“They’re not my friends,” he slurs into his glass.

He figured it out eventually. That’s where he’d gone wrong with them, the Legends. He’d kept them at arm’s length when he thought of them as only tools in his arsenal against Vandal Savage. (Not her, though, she'd always managed to get under his skin.) And then, after, when willful duty bound them together, he watched them all grow closer, but the circle of friendship had been closed to him. No one to blame but himself really. He can't fault them. He'd never let them in.

He'd tried to let her in.

And she, well she’d thought they were friends, once. He'd seen the worst of her and he hadn't been afraid. He saved her life. He gave her purpose, he'd said I believe in you and the memory of it still steals the breath from her. But then he’d stabbed her in the back. She’d let him go that day because she thought he needed to find himself. That, she understood. But she thinks about the man who emerged from that portal in Los Angeles, standing tall and proud like she'd never seen him before and she wonders if they'd broken something in him when they broke time. If the real Rip is out there somewhere displaced in time. She’d gone to the ends of time trying to save him before, she'd do it again if it meant fixing this.

“I missed you, miss Lance.” He wouldn't be saying that if he were sober but he's waited five years to see her again and it doesn't matter that he's not supposed to be saying things like that.

“You don’t get to say that. Shut up,” she says. How dare he? How dare he say that when he’d been the one to walk away? And why does she care? Why does she allow him to continue to hurt her?

Why does she still crave his validation?

“How can you can sit here and tell me you missed me after what you did? To me?”

He flinches away from the volcanic heat of her hurt. He hadn't lied when he’d praised her leadership, hadn't faked his belief in her. Only, he'd looked around and found no room for him by her side. And so he walked away. How was he supposed to know things would unravel the way they did?

“I didn't do anything to you.” Liar. “This is so much bigger than your feelings, Sara. I’m trying to fix things.”

“What does that mean? Fix what?”

He doesn’t answer, he's said too much already. He swallows down his response with what's left in his glass. He feels the world tilt and sway around him.

He's too drunk to fight and she's too sober to keep it going. She's had enough of his secrets.

“I'm taking you home,” she says. “Where's your place?”

“That's classified.”

Sara huffs, resigned, “My place it is, then.”

Sara's place is small, just a studio with only the bare essentials: a bed, a table, two chairs. It feels like he takes up too much space just by standing there. She can't breathe.

What's she going to do with him now that he's here?

He’s here, in her space, unsteady on his feet, his eyes heavy and fixed on her face, his cold hand on her neck, thumb to the butterfly flutter of her pulse. He’d snuffed that out once. It still haunts him.

“I’m so sorry, Sara,” he says, slightly pressing his thumb down. “You died. I had to let you.”

Phantom pains stab in Sara’s side. She remembers how cold she’d been lying on the snow, blood pouring out of the wound he'd made on her body. His hand on her neck feels suddenly disquieting. But he goes on ...

“And your sister she was…”

Her heart seizes, her breath falters as she realizes what he’s talking about.

Three arrows to her chest. A tumble off a roof. Knowledge of a thing cannot impede it. He knows this, perhaps better than anyone.

“I wanted to tell her I understood because I’d also held my dead love in my arms that way. But I couldn’t. So, I lay flowers on your grave. Gardenias and rain lilies. And I would look at that date on the gravestone and remind myself it wasn’t forever. That your death had an expiration date and I would save you.”

He touches his forehead against hers, his scotch laden breath on her face.

“I changed time for you.”

“And you let her die.”

He’d killed her, too, and she forgave him, because she held herself responsible for his trauma. But for Laurel? She calls on that old rage just to get through tonight, Sara, just get through tonight. She pulls and pulls on the thread but the anger slips away from her grasp. How can she hold onto it when he’s staring at her with liquor hazed wet eyes, looking, for a moment, like the man who’d once absolved her and declared himself the monster instead?

Her own uncomfortable revelations threaten to come forth. She holds her tongue instead of saying: I used to hold your compass to my chest, hoping it would lead me to you. And I blame myself for what the Legion did to you. What's the point of baring herself to him? In the morning, he'll be gone again and it'll be as if this never happened.

The morning will take all truth from them.

“Sara,” he whispers, her name on his lips like benediction. “Please, forgive me my unworthiness.”

He might as well render her amnesiac with a flash of his machine.

She sets him down at the foot of her bed. She strips him of his suit jacket, letting him take care of the shirt buttons. She pushes his oxford shirt off his shoulders until he’s left in an undershirt and lets herself look, without the guilt this time.

It's been five—no, nearly seven—years and he is not a man in mourning anymore. And she could reach out and lay her hands upon the pale skin of his freckled shoulders, push him back and take them to that yet uncharted place between reverence and wrath. But she doesn’t because if he were to circle gentle hands around her wrists to stop her, she thinks she just might pierce the world with the steel of her hurt.

Come here, he says, curling on her bed like he's done it many times before. Like he belongs there. She takes off her boots and her jeans and settles on the bed beside him.

The narrow space between them might as well be a chasm.

“Someday, Sara,” he says, before he closes his eyes.

How perfectly mistimed their timing.

He reaches out toward her chest, and she holds her breath. His palm flattens over the space between her breasts, where her heart beats strong and steady.

Five years. And one of them with her dead.

Her hand curls over his.

In the morning, she’ll reclaim the anger and remind herself of the dangers of confusing energy with possibility. But for tonight, with his hand on her heart, she’ll embrace the sadness and let herself sink under the weight of what could have been.

[namjoonilicious]

DUFF (CHAPTER 2)

Chapter 2

╳ pairing: Jungkook x Reader

╳ Genre: fluff, angst, smut 

╳ Summary: “Being the Duff has really changed you.”“Excuse me, the Duff?” I asked, my voice rising a little at the end.“You know, the Designated. Ugly. Fat. Friend.”

After what happened at the party, I was not looking forward to Monday at all. But I woke up this morning and guess what day it was…

 Monday.

 Mondays were always horrible, but I knew this was going to be the worst Monday of my fucking life. All that kept going through my head when I was getting ready to walk into the hell hole called school was that I was a Duff. As I was walking down the hallway, I noticed every group did have a Duff and I cursed myself for never noticing that I wasn’t one before.

 Walking into math, I sat myself down and groaned at the thought of having to sit through this horrible class for 50 minutes. Just as I was contemplating if graduating high school was worth it, Lisa bounced in and sat down right next to me, smiling like she won the lottery.

 “What’s gotten into you?” She asked, reaching into her backpack to grab a notebook.

 Lisa’s my best friend and we have no secrets, but I couldn’t bring myself to tell her what Jungkook said about me.

 “Nothing, just hate school.” I said. I mean, I wasn’t lying so I felt a little less guilty.

 “Well you wouldn’t believe what happened today…” She said, turning around until her whole body was facing me.

 “You got an A in Chemistry?” I joked, raising my eyebrows.

 “Ha ha funny, that would have to take a miracle” She said, causing both of us to laugh.

 “But no, Yoongi talked to me today and I’m almost certain he’s going to ask me out!”

 I froze and I had to quickly hide the disappointment that laid across my face. Nobody knows that Yoongi has been my crush since middle school. I’ve never liked someone as much as I liked him, even though I can’t speak more than two words to the fucking guy. Before she got suspicious, I quickly answered.

 “Congrats!” I said, just as the teacher walked through the door.

 “Hello class, lets get started”

 Thankfully the conversation got dropped but I couldn’t ignore the twisting in my stomach. Why would Yoongi even like someone like me when Lisa exists? Lisa is the epitome of beauty while I look like I crawled out of the sewer. Okay, that might be a little dramatic but compared to Lisa, that comparison isn’t too far off.

Once class ended, I grabbed my bag and basically ran out the door, not wanting to deal with Lisa and hear all about her and Yoongi. I know I’ll have to at some point, but right now was not the time.

 I must have been so deep in my thoughts that I wasn’t paying attention, but next thing I knew I smacked right into someone, my textbooks slipping off my arms and onto the floor.

 “Woah there, Duff.”

 My head shot up, instantly knowing who the voice belonged to.

 His signature cocky grin was spread across his face. I forgot how tall he actually was, his messy brown hair falling slightly into his eyes.

 “Do I make you so nervous that you can’t walk?”

 “You wish.” I said, pursing my lips.

 “Ah, so now you can read minds?” He smirked.

 I didn’t say anything, I just stomped off to class trying to put as much distance as I could between me and Jungkook. Even the moon wouldn’t be far enough. Duff, seriously? He knows my name! He’s such a fucking prick, always trying to get under my skin.

 Walking into Biology, I realized that mostly all the desks were occupied which meant I was almost late. My teacher gave me a dirty look as I sat in the back, trying to get the attention off of me. If there was one thing that my teacher hated more than anything, it would be being late. He even told the class one time that if he ever became president, he would make it a felony.

 Just as the bell rang, someone ran in.

 “I’m so sorry Mr. Wilson. I was helping Mrs. Purdum in the music room.”

 My heart started beating erratically once I looked up and saw who it was.

 Yoongi. He was standing there in a black t-shirt and ripped jeans, his blonde hair slightly sticking to his forehead due to the sweat of trying to make it to class on time. He’s so beautiful, that it’s almost impossible to look away, not that I was planning on it anytime soon. I wanted to hit myself for liking a guy that would never in a million years like me back. Yoongi wasn’t your typical popular guy. He was sweet and caring, the complete opposite of Jungkook. Did I forget to mention that he was his best friend? 

 “Go take a seat and never let this happen again, Yoongi.” Mr. Wilson muttered.

 “Yes sir.” He said, taking a seat in the front row.

 School dragged on and once the day was over, I met with Lisa and Cassie in the parking lot to head home.

 “Why did you run out of class so fast?” Lisa asked, turning around in the passenger seat to face me in the back.

 “Yeah, Lisa told me about that. What’s wrong?” Cassie chimed in, keeping her eyes on the road.

 I wasn’t in the mood to explain everything so I lied again.

 “I had to go to the bathroom.”

 “Y/n, we’re your best friends, we know you by now. Why did you leave class like that? Did something happen?” Cassie asked.

 The guilt was already eating me alive. I hated lying to them but now was not the time to tell them about Jungkook basically calling me hideous.  

 “I promise guys, that’s the reason. I would tell you if it wasn’t.” I said, smiling.

 I don’t think they believed me but they dropped the conversation anyway and started talking about homecoming instead. I sighed in relief and let my head fall against the headrest.

 I found myself later that night at a café with Cassie and Lisa. I didn’t want to go out since my mood was shit, but they insisted and I only agreed because I was starving. As we were eating, I went to take a drink and noticed it was empty, so I excused myself to go get a refill.

 “So now you’re stalking me?”

 Why the fuck is he everywhere.

 “Go away Jungkook.” I growled, handing the worker behind the counter my cup so she could refill it.

 “You see, I don’t want to. My goal is to hook up with one of your friends, preferably the one with blonde hair.”

 “Then go talk to her.” I snarled, already done with this stupid conversation.

He ran his fingers through his hair, leaning on his arm that was resting on the counter top.

 “Ah” He chuckled like he just heard the funniest joke. “I don’t chase girls, girls chase me. But it shouldn’t take long for one of them to be begging to go home with me.”

 “Don’t hold your breath.” I muttered, thanking the worker when she handed me my drink back.

 “So, I’ll see you at the party this Friday?” He asked, following me as I was walking back to my table.

 I froze and turned around to face him.

 “Party?”

 “Yeah, you know the end of the year party Yoongi throws every year?”

 I already wanted to throw up just thinking about being in the same room as my crush.

 Before I could answer, Jungkook spoke up.

 “If you’re worried, you won’t be the only Duff there.”

 “Yeah, because that’s what I’m worried about.” I said sarcastically, rolling my eyes.

 “Or that you’ll be too tempted to sleep with me, I mean, I wouldn’t blame you.” He said, winking.

 The urge to punch that smirk off his face was getting strong.

 “I don’t know, I’ll ask Cass and Lisa if they’re going.” I said, referring to the invitation to the party.

 “I already know Lisa is going, Yoongi personally invited her.”

 This just topped off the shittiest day of my life.

 “See you Friday.” He grinned, knocking his shoulder into mine as he walked past me.

 Well fuck me.

[livinginbutterflyfields]

Kwave 3 Experience

Hiii~ This was a post that was supposedly posted long ago but I got caught up in college so yeah. Anyway this was my experience attending the event so bear in mind that this was solely my opinion :) 

READ : This experience will mainly focus on Monsta X but I’ll include my general impression of the other idols performing as well.

Attending Kwave 3 is my second time attending Kpop events for this year of 2018. Fortunately enough I was able to attend this event because of Monsta X (multifandom stans can relate lmao) but kudos to the organiser for being so attentive and detailed to ensure the event ran smoothly. A lil’ bit of tea: The venue of #Kwave3MusicFestival  is the one where Twiceland in Malaysia was supposedly held but was CANCELLED AT VERY LAST MINUTE (less than 24 hours) by the organiser due to a supposedly stage setting and production mishap(?) so everyone was really disappointed (and scared) if the same thing happens again. TwiceLandInMalaysia’s organiser is also infamous for the #WannaBelovedInKL mishap – basically they’re the shittiest and worst organiser ever! (Note: Kwave 3 and Twice’s organisers are different)

Fast forward to the concert day itself. I arrived at the concert venue around 4pm+ because the weather was a bit gloomy on that day itself and went to explore the booths around the area to kill some time. I brought my Shownu memes placards as a substitute because I didn’t have the official lightstick (sad life of a broke fangirl) and also I wanted him to know he is loved (he deserves all the love in this world).  Anyway,  if any of you happened to see a girl wearing red flannel walking around with her Shownu memes high chances are it’s probably me lmao XD

So this was my seat’s view~

A compulsory pic of the ticket hehe! 

This were the Shownu placard memes that I made last minute (hopefully Shownu saw them haha)

Around 7.50pm the screen while replayed the adverts turned pitch black and that’s when we were all getting reallllyyyy excited because the event was gonna start soon and BAM! The MC came out (I forgot his name sorry) and started introducing the artists who were going to perform. I had this teeny tiny bit that WJSN would be the first one to perform and I was right. Then the girls came on stage and started the show with Dreams Come true. I didn’t really know all the members but I recognised EXY, Yeonjung, Dawon, Seola and Bona. There were only 10 members that night (minus the Chinese members) and that was really unfortunate because I had wanted to see ChengXiao on stage as well . Next they performed Secret which was among the songs I liked from them and a few other songs which I’m not really familiar with (sorry). Oh and during the ment they attempted to speak in Bahasa Malaysia which was really cute haha. Yeonjung and Dayoung came to my area frequently and they were really cute and very interactive with the fans (they looked like little fairies hahaha) Surprisingly during this one song I can actually hear the backtrack playing which I think wouldn’t be necessary for the girls to lipsync because I know how capable Yeonjung and Dawon is to belt out their high notes  Then Jung Sewoon (Ponyo!) came in after and wow, this guy really gave out that sweetheart, fluffy vibes. Those who watched Produce 101 Season 2 would know how much of a sweetheart he really is and boii, he really is a total sweetheart. During Just U he was also rapping to the rapper’s part which were really cute and hilarious because even the crowd was hyping him XD. I’m actually glad because the crowd were really supportive of regardless whoever was performing on stage. He sang live because I can actually really hear his voice which was really soothing T__T

Seola looked so pretty and so does the other WJSN members as well TT

And then AOA came on stage next :O When AOA’s video came out, all the fanboys were screaming hahaha rip my ears again. They started off with Bingle Bangle and I couldn’t take my eyes off Seolhyun. She.Is.A.Literally.A.Walking.Goddess. But unfortunately Mina was sick that night (as told by Jimin) so she wasn’t able to attend the event. HyeJeong also caught my attention sobs they were all so pretty in real life! Among the songs they performed were Excuse Me,Mini Skirt, Like A Cat, Bing Bing and Heart Attack. Boyfriend were the next performer after AOA. To be very honest, I was kinda worried of the crowd reaction since I didn’t really see a lot of Boyfriend fans but to my surprise, the crowd were really hyping them so thank goodness! Star was the first song they performed, and it was such a soothing song for me. They also performed I’ll Be There, Witch and ended with I-Yah. I was only a casual fan of them so it was nice bobbing my head to their songs lmao. Oh, and when they were doing their ment the leader said it was such a great opportunity to be able to spend their 7th year with the K-wave crowd. My heart kinda wretched when he said that (Starship why’d you do this they had so much potential T__T), also I didn’t know how to differentiate the twins (Youngmin and Kwangmin) albeit them having different hairstyles kekeke. They were all sweethearts too sigh T_T.

Eventhough the picture was blurry but Seolhyun really took my attention that night (GURL WAS GLOWING THAT NIGHT) 

I thought that Monsta X were up next but EXID came on stage!!! Too bad Solji were still not in a good condition so there were only four of them on stage, but they still rocked the performance. They performed Lady first and Hyerin came out few seconds late because she was stuck with the curtain opening lmao usually it’s Hani who would be doing all the funny things. I certainly caught Hani laughing midway performing due to Hyerin haha. L.E’s rap was bomb! She was literally oozing girl crush vibes (lovelovelove). Junghwa was really glowing that night and she caught my attention although Hani is my favourite but Hani was being her usual dorky self (hehe) and Hyerin is really pretty if you see her in real life! They were really enjoying performing that night, and they performed Hot Pink, Up and Down, Night Rather Than Day, and DDD.

Then Monsta X came up next! Click here~

And FT Island were the final performer of the night. I was only a casual fan of them so my knowledge on their songs were a bit lacking-but I enjoyed their performance nevertheless. Some of the songs that I liked were Champagne and Pray which they also performed so thumbs up! Hongki’s voice was powerful enough to bring back the energy to the crowd because it was getting late and pretty much everyone was drained out due to excessive yelling and screeching earlier haha. During their ment, Hongki said they were really glad to be able to perform here in Malaysia as from what I was concerned, they were supposed to have a concert here back in 2011 but it was cancelled unfortunately :( And I can’t remember what song they performed but at one time, the background music were playing too loud and even Hongki looked a little uncomfy because we couldn’t really hear Hongki’s voice TT. Then they bid goodbye to the crowd, even said goodnight and to take care because it was getting quite late. I thought that during the ending, all artists would come out together and bid goodbye to the fans together but I guess it’s too late so they decided to just end the show :((( And, then, it was the goodbye that parted all of us.

So, basically I did not regret at all being one of them who got the chance to attend this event because honestly, this event was wayyyy better than my first Kpop event (READ: Wanna One’s Fanmeet in Malaysia) Kudos and thumbs up to the awesome organiser Macpiepro for making the event as smooth as possible :) I hope you enjoyed reading this btw!