#hit a decade of shipping them last year!

[phantomrose96]

If anyone wants to know why every tech company in the world right now is clamoring for AI like drowned rats scrabbling to board a ship, I decided to make a post to explain what's happening.

(Disclaimer to start: I'm a software engineer who's been employed full time since 2018. I am not a historian nor an overconfident Youtube essayist, so this post is my working knowledge of what I see around me and the logical bridges between pieces.)

Okay anyway. The explanation starts further back than what's going on now. I'm gonna start with the year 2000. The Dot Com Bubble just spectacularly burst. The model of "we get the users first, we learn how to profit off them later" went out in a no-money-having bang (remember this, it will be relevant later). A lot of money was lost. A lot of people ended up out of a job. A lot of startup companies went under. Investors left with a sour taste in their mouth and, in general, investment in the internet stayed pretty cooled for that decade. This was, in my opinion, very good for the internet as it was an era not suffocating under the grip of mega-corporation oligarchs and was, instead, filled with Club Penguin and I Can Haz Cheezburger websites.

Then around the 2010-2012 years, a few things happened. Interest rates got low, and then lower. Facebook got huge. The iPhone took off. And suddenly there was a huge new potential market of internet users and phone-havers, and the cheap money was available to start backing new tech startup companies trying to hop on this opportunity. Companies like Uber, Netflix, and Amazon either started in this time, or hit their ramp-up in these years by shifting focus to the internet and apps.

Now, every start-up tech company dreaming of being the next big thing has one thing in common: they need to start off by getting themselves massively in debt. Because before you can turn a profit you need to first spend money on employees and spend money on equipment and spend money on data centers and spend money on advertising and spend money on scale and and and

But also, everyone wants to be on the ship for The Next Big Thing that takes off to the moon.

So there is a mutual interest between new tech companies, and venture capitalists who are willing to invest $$$ into said new tech companies. Because if the venture capitalists can identify a prize pig and get in early, that money could come back to them 100-fold or 1,000-fold. In fact it hardly matters if they invest in 10 or 20 total bust projects along the way to find that unicorn.

But also, becoming profitable takes time. And that might mean being in debt for a long long time before that rocket ship takes off to make everyone onboard a gazzilionaire.

But luckily, for tech startup bros and venture capitalists, being in debt in the 2010's was cheap, and it only got cheaper between 2010 and 2020. If people could secure loans for ~3% or 4% annual interest, well then a $100,000 loan only really costs $3,000 of interest a year to keep afloat. And if inflation is higher than that or at least similar, you're still beating the system.

So from 2010 through early 2022, times were good for tech companies. Startups could take off with massive growth, showing massive potential for something, and venture capitalists would throw infinite money at them in the hopes of pegging just one winner who will take off. And supporting the struggling investments or the long-haulers remained pretty cheap to keep funding.

You hear constantly about "Such and such app has 10-bazillion users gained over the last 10 years and has never once been profitable", yet the thing keeps chugging along because the investors backing it aren't stressed about the immediate future, and are still banking on that "eventually" when it learns how to really monetize its users and turn that profit.

The pandemic in 2020 took a magnifying-glass-in-the-sun effect to this, as EVERYTHING was forcibly turned online which pumped a ton of money and workers into tech investment. Simultaneously, money got really REALLY cheap, bottoming out with historic lows for interest rates.

Then the tide changed with the massive inflation that struck late 2021. Because this all-gas no-brakes state of things was also contributing to off-the-rails inflation (along with your standard-fare greedflation and price gouging, given the extremely convenient excuses of pandemic hardships and supply chain issues). The federal reserve whipped out interest rate hikes to try to curb this huge inflation, which is like a fire extinguisher dousing and suffocating your really-cool, actively-on-fire party where everyone else is burning but you're in the pool. And then they did this more, and then more. And the financial climate followed suit. And suddenly money was not cheap anymore, and new loans became expensive, because loans that used to compound at 2% a year are now compounding at 7 or 8% which, in the language of compounding, is a HUGE difference. A $100,000 loan at a 2% interest rate, if not repaid a single cent in 10 years, accrues to $121,899. A $100,000 loan at an 8% interest rate, if not repaid a single cent in 10 years, more than doubles to $215,892.

Now it is scary and risky to throw money at "could eventually be profitable" tech companies. Now investors are watching companies burn through their current funding and, when the companies come back asking for more, investors are tightening their coin purses instead. The bill is coming due. The free money is drying up and companies are under compounding pressure to produce a profit for their waiting investors who are now done waiting.

You get enshittification. You get quality going down and price going up. You get "now that you're a captive audience here, we're forcing ads or we're forcing subscriptions on you." Don't get me wrong, the plan was ALWAYS to monetize the users. It's just that it's come earlier than expected, with way more feet-to-the-fire than these companies were expecting. ESPECIALLY with Wall Street as the other factor in funding (public) companies, where Wall Street exhibits roughly the same temperament as a baby screaming crying upset that it's soiled its own diaper (maybe that's too mean a comparison to babies), and now companies are being put through the wringer for anything LESS than infinite growth that Wall Street demands of them.

Internal to the tech industry, you get MASSIVE wide-spread layoffs. You get an industry that used to be easy to land multiple job offers shriveling up and leaving recent graduates in a desperately awful situation where no company is hiring and the market is flooded with laid-off workers trying to get back on their feet.

Because those coin-purse-clutching investors DO love virtue-signaling efforts from companies that say "See! We're not being frivolous with your money! We only spend on the essentials." And this is true even for MASSIVE, PROFITABLE companies, because those companies' value is based on the Rich Person Feeling Graph (their stock) rather than the literal profit money. A company making a genuine gazillion dollars a year still tears through layoffs and freezes hiring and removes the free batteries from the printer room (totally not speaking from experience, surely) because the investors LOVE when you cut costs and take away employee perks. The "beer on tap, ping pong table in the common area" era of tech is drying up. And we're still unionless.

Never mind that last part.

And then in early 2023, AI (more specifically, Chat-GPT which is OpenAI's Large Language Model creation) tears its way into the tech scene with a meteor's amount of momentum. Here's Microsoft's prize pig, which it invested heavily in and is galivanting around the pig-show with, to the desperate jealousy and rapture of every other tech company and investor wishing it had that pig. And for the first time since the interest rate hikes, investors have dollar signs in their eyes, both venture capital and Wall Street alike. They're willing to restart the hose of money (even with the new risk) because this feels big enough for them to take the risk.

Now all these companies, who were in varying stages of sweating as their bill came due, or wringing their hands as their stock prices tanked, see a single glorious gold-plated rocket up out of here, the likes of which haven't been seen since the free money days. It's their ticket to buy time, and buy investors, and say "see THIS is what will wring money forth, finally, we promise, just let us show you."

To be clear, AI is NOT profitable yet. It's a money-sink. Perhaps a money-black-hole. But everyone in the space is so wowed by it that there is a wide-spread and powerful conviction that it will become profitable and earn its keep. (Let's be real, half of that profit "potential" is the promise of automating away jobs of pesky employees who peskily cost money.) It's a tech-space industrial revolution that will automate away skilled jobs, and getting in on the ground floor is the absolute best thing you can do to get your pie slice's worth.

It's the thing that will win investors back. It's the thing that will get the investment money coming in again (or, get it second-hand if the company can be the PROVIDER of something needed for AI, which other companies with venture-back will pay handsomely for). It's the thing companies are terrified of missing out on, lest it leave them utterly irrelevant in a future where not having AI-integration is like not having a mobile phone app for your company or not having a website.

So I guess to reiterate on my earlier point:

Drowned rats. Swimming to the one ship in sight.

[k-hotchoisan]

₊˚⊹⋆𝔂𝓸𝓾’𝓻𝓮 𝓲𝓷𝓿𝓲𝓽𝓮𝓭 𝓽𝓸 𝓚’𝓼 𝓣𝔀𝓲𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓭 𝓦𝓸𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓪𝓷𝓭₊˚⊹⋆

Welcome to K’s Twisted Wonderland. In honour of hitting 2K, I’m inviting my wonderful angels for a little treat into my twisted wonderland.

Watch your step, be careful who you entangle yourself with, and especially don’t talk to bad guys.

Or do. Who’s stopping you? 🥀

Waiting to join the fun? Taglist applications here

Please note: these fics are completely fictional and contain heavy smut. Please thread responsibly.

🍄✨ 𝓜𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 ✨🍄

🍄 Hooked — Hongjoong

You were supposed to have budding feelings for Peter Pan. You were supposed to like him. Until he leaves you with the mermaids, and your saviour turns out to be someone unlikely. Someone who wants to keep you all for himself.

🍄 Queen of Hearts — Seonghwa

Following that stupid black rabbit was a bad idea. Now you’re wondering through Wonderland, confused, trying to understand the world and it’s inhabitants frightened over the land’s monarch. Running into the hedge maze after hiding from the Jabberwocky, you come face to face with the Queen of Hearts himself, yet you can’t seem to stay away from him.

🍄 Pomegranate — Yunho

Bring the descendant of Hades, Yunho takes over the crown, stuck in a boring loop of ruling over the Underworld. And his world completely flips when he encounters you during one of Zeus’s grand parties, and he wants to keep you all for himself.

🍄 Mirror, Mirror — Yeosang

Years after the Evil Queen’s death, her son takes over the throne to continue her legacy of destroying the fairest one of them all. He consults his mother’s heirloom—her trusted mirror—to find out who he needs to personally hunt down, only to become entangled with the woman he’s supposed to kill.

🍄 Big, Bad Wolf — San

Your mother always warned you to be careful of the woods whenever you went to deliver bread to your grandmother. You’re over her nagging. Nothing has been bothering you in the woods for the past decades. You’re not afraid.

Famous last words when you meet the big, bad wolf.

🍄 Beauty and her Beast — Mingi

Bearing the curse, Mingi lives isolated in his palace, watching the time run out on the rose petals, signalling his impending death, hopeless and cold. It’s not until he meets you, who decides to trade places with your crush, who had trespassed in Mingi’s garden, to be imprisoned in the palace with Mingi.

🍄 Crown of Ice — Wooyoung

You’ve heard of his cold and ruthless ways of freezing people to death, and now you are sent to kill him and bring back the crown of ice that sits on his head.

It’s just that you didn’t realise you’d be melting his heart and entangling yourself with him in the process.

🍄 Siren’s Call — Jongho

You can’t forget the night where you should have drowned when you fell off the cruise ship, only to appear back on shore eight years ago. The seas have always been calling you, you swear—hearing hums that sounded borderline hypnotic especially during the full moon nights. Your parents have warned you to stay away, especially with the rumours of sirens infesting the ocean.

But what they forgot to remind you about sirens was that they can also take on a human form.

© all rights reserved k-hotchoisan ✨🩷

[adnauseum11]

Bomb (John Price x Reader)

My insomnia is keeping me up and this kept me occupied.

Summary: Kate Laswell corners John Price with a loaded question. John admits to some startling news.

less than 1k words

SFW

no CW

Besides his mother, Kate Laswell knows John Price better than anyone. So, when they convened their bi-monthly poker game, she knows something's up almost immediately. John obliged her curiosity by playing well enough to make it down to the last three players, thus enabling her to trap him in the kitchen to question him away from the eyes and ears of the few remaining guests.

“How’s retirement treating you, John? Anything new?”

John raised a brow at the open-ended question, twisting from the sink where he was rinsing glasses. 

‘It’s fine, Kate. Why do you ask?” The near formal response confirms her suspicions.

“You look like you’ve been trying to crack quantum mechanics all night.”

“Poker is hard.” John said lamely in a last-ditch attempt to not have this conversation. 

“Not that hard. Not for you. What’s up?” 

John sighs heavily and gives up on his self-assigned task. He fully turns, hands fisting on his still trim hips and assesses how doggedly Kate’s going to chase this. It’s Kate though, so he resigns himself to admitting his most recent conundrum.

“I have a friend. Known her since I before I shipped off to join the infantry. Our circle of friends grew apart but we stayed in touch.” John downplays their friendship, or that his routine when coming off a mission is to text her straight away.

Kate’s eyebrows nearly hit her hairline in surprise. John has never mentioned this woman. Sure, talk of personal lives is limited in their line of work, but they had spent years developing a friendship beyond their professional one. Kate thought she knew him pretty well, all things considered. 

“What’s the problem? She get herself into something she shouldn’t have?” Kate asks, going for the obvious.

“No, nothing like that. Although I wouldn’t be surprised, the woman’s middle name ought to be trouble.” The ghost of a fond smile tugs at the corners of his mouth.

“What is her middle name?”

“Grow up, Kate.” John rolls his eyes; he’s spent years keeping his work life and his small personal life separate. He’s not about to compromise that like a rank amateur. 

“Worth a shot.” Kate smiles and crosses her arms over her chest, waiting John out. 

“I’ve asked her out, we’ve gone on a few dates.”

“And? I’m still not hearing a problem. Really never would have pegged you for melodrama, John.” Kate chides gently, enjoying the disapproving look he sends her way. 

“Mind yourself, I’m retired not dead.” John grumbles, crossing his own arms over his broad chest.

“So, what’s the issue? You decide you like being friends better and it’s awkward now?”

“No. Nothing like that. Actually, the opposite of that. But, ah… I’m not sure we’re on the same page.” He scrapes his nails through his facial hair in a reflexive gesture.

Kate’s face softens as she realizes what he’s saying and turns, going on tiptoes to reach a high cabinet. It’s filled with liquors and she pulls a scotch down, pouring them each a few fingers of the amber liquid. 

“Cheers old man. Welcome back to civilian life. Relationships are hard.”

“Thanks Kate. Very helpful.” John nods and sniffs his drink before taking a taste. 

“I find it hard to believe a woman who has apparently known you for years, and has agreed to go on multiple dates with you isn’t attracted to you, John.”

“She shuts me down, won’t let me do anything but kiss her.” 

John throws the rest of the drink back in one swallow with that admission and Kate watches her old friend for a moment. 

“How long you been in love with her?” 

John chokes, coughing and thumping himself on the chest before raising his eyebrows incredulously at Kate. 

“Never said anything about love –“ 

Kate doesn’t let him finish.

“This is the first I’m hearing this woman exists and I’ve known you for the better part of two decades, John. You have gone out of your way to keep her to yourself, for a very long time. She’s got to mean something to you. So, you’re all in on this relationship now that your life has stabilized and she’s dragging her feet. Is that it?”

“Fuckin’ hell Laswell.” John’s reaching for the bottle of scotch to refill his glass.

“Find out why she’s dragging her feet and fix it you idiot. No risk no reward, you know that better than anyone. Now who’s got to grow up?” Kate raises her own brow back at a gobsmacked John. 

“You make it sound easy.” 

“Well, it’s pretty straightforward. Easy is another story. That’s between you and…?”

The look John gives her is withering before he throws back another drink. 

[joedirtymadre]

Hello 😊 I hope you are having a great day! I would like to request a fluffy Luffy x y/n story please!

The Potion

LUFFY X READER! FLUFF! (PLEASE SEND MORE REQUESTS! PLEASEE 🦫)

“Where is he?” You asked yourself as you continued exploring the new island. You were currently looking for your idiot captain, but adorable boyfriend. Nami thought it was a good idea to stop by an island to restock on some supplies. Nami only planned for a day stop, but Luffy still hasn’t returned… So a part of being his girlfriend is to find and drag him back to the ship. You groaned, “I can’t believe he just ditched me on the ship, why didn’t he ask if I wanted to tag along? Aren’t we dating?”

While walking down the main plaza, you turned and noticed a familiar dark haired man, with the very familiar straw hat on his head. “Luffy!” You called out as you ran over. He quickly turned and grinned once noticing you. “Yo (Y/N)! You found me!” He waved excitedly. “You idiot! I spent the last hour looking for you! How dare you ditch me?” You asked angrily as you smacked his head.

“I’m sorry…” he pouted. “It’s alright, I’m glad I finally found you. So, what have you been up to?” You asked as you rubbed the spot you hit. “Just running around, but I stopped to talk to this granny,” he said, motioning towards the older woman sitting at the stand.

“Oh hello,” you smiled, and the woman smiled back. “Hi sweetheart,” she said. You looked at her stand, and realized that it was simply a table with a crystal ball in the middle, with a small stand with different colored bottles. You noticed one particular bottle that caught your eye, it was a beautiful shade of deep purple. “Would you like one deary?” The woman asked. “Ummm… well what are they?” You asked. “Potions!” She smiled. “Potions? “Really?” You asked suspiciously. “Well of course, I spent years trying to perfect each potion. Which one would you like?” She asked.

“Hmm… Well, what does each one do?” You asked curiously, eyeing each bottle. “Can one of them make me super strong? Or shapeshift? Or fly?” Luffy asked excitedly. “No, my potions don’t do that. They’re small potions, but trust me… they work,” she said. “I see, but what does each potion do?” You asked again. “Ahh… that all depends on you. My potions create whatever you heart desires,” she explains.

“Whatever my heart desires?” You questioned. “So that means I can fly!” Luffy said with stars in his eyes. “Perhaps, if your heart truly desires to fly,” the woman sighed. “Oh wow! Now we have to get one (Y/an)! Just imagine me, like a superhero, or a bird,” he grinned. You laughed at his reaction, “I guess I’ll take two,” you said.

“Only 1 per each group,” the woman said. “Huh?” Luffy pouted. “Well, I can’t have everyone getting their deep desires granted. Plus there are potions that take decades to create, my inventory would disappear if I didn’t limit purchases,” she explained. “I guess that makes sense,” you said. “Well which one sweetheart, I saw that the purple one caught your eye,” she said. “Yeah, it’s a pretty color,” you said softly. “I’ll take this one then,” you said. “Good choice, and remember all potions last for 24 hours,” she said as she took the berries from my hand and placed the bottle in it.

“Wow, a potion! Let’s drink it!” Luffy said. “No sharing, the potion won’t work if two people drink it,” the woman quickly explained. “Awe man…” he pouted. “If you want it, you can have it,” you smiled. “Seriously? Tha-“ Luffy was cut off. “Only the person that I gave the bottle to can drink it, for others it won’t work,” the woman said as she winked at me. “O-Oh… well that sucks,” Luffy frowned. “Sorry Luffy,” you said. “It’s fine, just means I’ll have to keep an eye on you. See if anything changes,” he laughed. You nodded and you both headed back to the ship.

“Drink it, drink it!” Luffy chanted. “Alright, but if I do can we go walk around some of the shops? I really wanted-“ you were interrupted. “That sounds boring…” he whined. “O-Oh… uhh, well alright. I guess we can do something else after,” you sighed. “Oo let’s go find another witch, maybe then I can get a potion!” He said excitedly, as he headed back to the plaza. “You go ahead, I’ll meet you there,” you said softly. “K!” He shouted as he raced off.

You let out a deep sigh, and walked over to an empty bench. “When’s the last time we’ve done anything I wanted to do? Or the last time we’ve done regular couple stuff?” You asked yourself as you leaned back into the bench.

“Hey! The woman said that this’ll grant my deepest desires! Maybe it’ll help Luffy be romantic again, like when we first started dating!” You said excitedly, as you opened your bag and pulled out the bottle. You stared suspiciously at it before you opened the lid. It made a hissing sound as you slowly opened the lid.

You shrugged it off and chugged it in one swoop. “Ugh… it tastes terrible,” you said in disgust. “If anything, at least Chopper can cure food poisoning or… regular poisoning,” you said.

All of a sudden you felt a nauseous wave rush through you. “I think I’m gonna pass-“ you immediately knocked out.

“(Y/N)? (Y/N)! Wake up, please!” You felt yourself being shaken. You slowly opened your eyes, and saw Luffy cradling you. “Luffy?” You asked as your eyes adjusted to the light. “Yeah it’s me, are you ok? I found you passed out on the bench,” he said, worriedly. “I-I’m fine,” you said as you tried to get up but slowly fell back. “Be careful, here I’ll carry you,” he said as he picked you up bridal style.

You felt your cheeks heat up. “You’re carrying me?” Yo I asked, surprised. “Well, why wouldn’t I carry you? You’re my girl,” he smiled. You felt your face heat up even more, and nuzzled your head into his chest. Just enjoying the moment.

You were finally able to stand, so after a few words of trying to convince Luffy that you can walk he finally let you down. As you were walking, you realized you were back at the main plaza. You suddenly felt someone reach out for your hand, you looked over and saw Luffy holding your hand. “I wanted to hold hands,” he smiled. “Ok!” You grinned. “Look, isn’t that the store you want to go to earlier?” He asked, as he pointed at a jewelry store. “Yeah… but it’s fine you said it was boring, let’s do something else,” you suggested.

“What? No way! Come on, you said you wanted to go so let’s go!” He smiled and dragged me to the shop. My eyes widened, there’s no way that her potion actually worked! You both spent the day like a normal couple, walking around being lovey dovey. Going to eat, exploring some cute store you found, and just enjoying each other’s company.

Now you were both at the main plaza’s water fountain. Just enjoying the sunset. “Man, I had an awesome day Luffy,” you smiled. “Me too, I’m glad you desired this,” he said, strangely. “Desired? Why’d you say it like-“ you were interrupted.

“(Y/N)?” You heard a family voice call out. You quickly snapped your head towards the voice and saw, “Luffy?” You stared in shock as he walked up to you. “L-Luffy? B-But I don’t- how- why?” You grabbed your head, not sure what the hell is going on. “(Y/N) who is that guy?” Luffy asked. “I’m Luffy, the better Luffy,” the other one said.

“The better Luffy? You’re just an imposter!” He yelled. You stared in disbelief, unsure what to do or say. “Not in (Y/N)’s eyes. That’s why she wished for me,” the other said, getting close to the other Luffy's face. “Wished for you? I-Is that true (Y/N)? Did you wish for him?” Luffy asked as he turned towards you.

You were speechless, you tried to explain yourself but nothing would come out. “Of course she did, she wanted that old spark we used to have. She hated how you treated her like a regular crew mate, how you would ditch her, ignore her wants or feelings, and just take her love for granted,” the other one said. “T-That’s now true, I love (Y/N)! You don’t know anything about us,” Luffy shouted.

“But it is, why else would she wish to do regular couple stuff with you? Because you never took the time to do it, that’s probably why she thinks you don’t love her anymore,” the other one explained. “Is this true (Y/N)? Do you really think I don’t love you?” He asked softly. “No, I-I… all I think is that you don't treat me the way you used to when we first started dating. Why?” You asked tearfully.

“I-I don't know, I guess I didn't realize it… I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you. I promise!” he said as he reached out for me. However, you felt a different pair of arms wrap around you from behind. They pulled you into a close hug, you looked to see the other Luffy who was holding you. “What makes you think that she’ll still want to be with you? After the amazing day we had? I carried her, held her hand, followed her to some nice shops, and ate nice food. We both know you wouldn’t have done that,” he said as he tightened his grip.

“Shut up! (Y/N), please believe me! I’m sorry, I do want to be with you. I love whenever you smile, when you smack me around whenever I’m acting dumb, when you rub and take care of me whenever I’m feeling down. I see now that I should’ve done the same for you, but please… Please let me try again, I won’t make you wish for a better me again,” he pleaded. “Oh Luffy,” you said softly. You quickly pulled yourself out of the other Luffy’s arms and leapt onto your Luffy. “(Y/N)!” He said, holding onto you tight.

“I’m sorry, this will never happen again. I swear,” he said with a light tremble in his voice. “I know,” you said as you pulled him into a kiss. This kiss almost made your legs give out, but luckily Luffy was keeping you steady.

“Hmm… it’s not 24 hours, but I guess my job here is done,” the other Luffy said. “Huh?” You asked as you turned your head. “Yep! I granted your deepest desire, to have your Luffy treat you like before,” he smiled, and you noticed his body began glowing. “But before I go,” the other Luffy said and ran over to give you a kiss on the cheek. “Hey!” Your Luffy shouted, pulling you back into his arms. “Take care of her, she deserves it,” the other Luffy said before disappearing.

Once the other Luffy was gone, you were quickly turned around. You felt a million kisses placed on the cheek the other Luffy kissed. “L-Luffy?” You blushed. “Good, now that fake’s kiss is erased,” he huffed. You laughed and pulled him into another kiss, happy to have your boyfriend back. I guess that woman is a real witch after all.

[savventeen]

you say the stupidest (sweetest) things

pairing: seungkwan x gn!reader rating: 16+ (for swearing) wc: 4.5k prompt: seungkwan + "things you said at 1am" summary: you say stupid shit on the best of days, so when seungkwan comes over when you're having a bad bout of insomnia, the last thing he expects to hear from you is an accidental love confession warnings: insomnia, mental health issues, dissociation mention tags: fluff, friends to lovers, first kiss, reader is a little unhinged but who isn't tbh, they're also highkey allergic to genuine expressions of love/affection but they're working on it, banter, stimming, wrestling like children to try and work through emotions, reader is some flavor of lgbt+ (they make an "i've never done anything straight in my life" joke), reader's pov is dramatic bc they're dramatic oops a/n: this is for @dokyeomin as a part of my emergency commissions (check out the post here) and this was only supposed to be 1k but it 100% got away from me... i hope you still enjoy the fluff and all of the attached nonsense <3

From: Y/n 🔪 [11:47pm]

yo kwannie if i impulsively decide to go to the 24h convenience store how harshly do u think they'll jusdge me for buying every flavor of gummy candy available *judge i wanna see if i can melt them down into one Ultimate Gummy u know for Science

Seungkwan pauses brushing his teeth and stares down at your messages.

To be fair, it's probably not the strangest thing you've ever texted him. He's known you since your second year of college, after all, so he has about half a decade of experience with all of your various y/n-isms under his belt now.

Which is how he knows to trust his gut when it tells him that this probably isn't your usual brand of nonsense.

He spits the toothpaste into the sink and dials your number. You answer on the second ring.

“Before you say anything,” you start, “I was only half-serious about the gummies thing. Like, it's a fun idea, you know? In theory. But in actuality? I do not want to deal with the mess that it would create. Or the smells. Well, the smells might actually be pretty good depending on—“

“Uh-huh,” he interrupts dryly. “Y/n, when's the last time you slept?”

The beat of silence that follows is enough to confirm his suspicions, and the hesitant “Um” that follows is just the icing on the cake, really.

He sighs. “The fact that you have to think about it says enough.”

“I don’t need to think about it,” you argue petulantly. “I just… don’t wanna tell you.”

“Y/n...” he groans, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Look, I know, I'm sorry.” And you do sound a little bit sorry, at least. “I'm just. Having an episode. Don't worry about it.”

His shoulders droop as the words sink in. “Episodes” are what you've taken to calling your intermittent bouts of serious insomnia.

Generally speaking, you sleep about as well as the average twenty-something with a caffeine addiction. But every few months or so, it's like your brain completely forgets how to shut off and you end up staying awake for 40+ hours straight.

“Well,” he says, putting his toothbrush away and going back to his bedroom. “You know that ship has sailed, right? You know I'm gonna worry about it.”

Your deep sigh crackles over the line. “Yeah, I know.”

“So. Where're we at this time?”

He mentally braces himself. The two of you have done this enough times now that he knows that you know there's no point in trying to lie or beat around the bush.

“Uhhhhhhh, I'll be hitting the 46-hour mark in about 20 minutes.”

“Aish.”

The fact that you can say that so casually makes his heart hurt. He knows that whenever he doesn't get enough sleep, he makes sure everyone knows it and thus babies him accordingly. But you've always been so intent on hiding anything and everything you struggle with. It's taken years for him to bully himself past the walls you keep hidden behind shit-eating grins and an over-willingness to help.

“Okay,” he says, moving to the dresser to grab an extra set of clothes. “I'll be over in an hour.”

“Wait. What?”

“You heard me.” He tosses the clothes onto his bed before going to grab one of his duffle bags, firmly asserting, “You've got an hour to mentally prepare yourself for my arrival.”

“Honey, you've got a big storm comin',” you quote at him without hesitating.

“You sure do,” he assures with a snort. “Better get ready to feel the wrath of my friendship.”

“Why do you have to love so aggressively?”

He rolls his eyes while he throws his clothes into the duffle bag with one hand. “Because it's the only way you'll accept it, idiot.”

“No, it isn't.”

Your pout is so audible through the phone that Seungkwan has to stop and glance at the screen in disbelief.

“Y/n. Y/n L/n. Do not stand there and lie to my face like that.”

“I'm not lying!”

“Not—” He gesticulates wildly with one hand like he's going Can you believe this shit? to an invisible TV audience. “Okay, tell me this: what did you do the last time I sincerely monologued at you about how much you mean to me as a friend, hmm? No bits, no bullshit, just me telling you how much I love you and how amazing you are.”

A beat. “I'll hang up on you, Kwannie, don't test me.”

He barely resists the urge to shove his face into the bedspread and scream. “You're literally proving my point right now!”

“Kwannieeee,” you whine, because you know he's right.

“Also, because I'm never letting you live it down, I will remind you exactly what you did."

You say his name again, but it's muffled, and he assumes it's because you're hiding your face in shame.

“I gave you a sincere, heartfelt speech about how much your friendship has changed my life for the better and made me become a better person—” he ignores your wordless pterodactyl screech, “—and how do you respond? By staring at me like a deer caught in the headlights, slowly raising your arms to give me double finger guns, winking, and then slowly backing out of the room like an awkward mannequin!”

“...”

“Well?” He puts his free hand on his hip. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

“… I’ve changed a lot since then.”

Seungkwan rolls his eyes before moving to continue packing his overnight bag. “It was literally three months ago.”

“Yeah, and? Doesn't change the fact that I've changed,” you assert.

“Into even more of a nuisance? Yes, you're absolutely right.” He smiles when he hears you scoff playfully.

“Listen here, Boo Seungkwan. You know that well-rested Y/n is ready to throw down with you at a moment's notice. What do you think sleep-deprived, zero-impulse-control Y/n is going to do the second you get to their front door?”

“Stop referring to themself in the third person, hopefully,” he mutters, finally zipping up his bag and heading to the door. “And then after that, they're going to let me bully them into resting.”

“Hmm. The council has heard your proposal, briefly pondered it, and deemed it “unnecessary” on the basis of: they're a bad bitch that can't be stopped by neither time nor physics nor any god of your choosing.”

Seungkwan scoffs as he puts the call on speaker and sits to put on his sneakers. “Well, “the council” can go fuck right off.”

“What if the council would like to fuck right on?”

Pausing in the middle of tying his laces, he blinks down at his phone. “I'm— what?”

“Okay, real talk, what do you think it would mean in this case? Like, would this be like a 'hop on' versus 'hop off' situation? Or more like an 'I'm down for this' versus 'I'm up for this' kinda situation? Because it would have very different outcomes depending.”

Seungkwan decides that this is a debate better left for another time. “I think it means that I'm going to be at your house soon and that if you're not in your pajamas with hot Sleepy Time tea and the series Planet Earth ready to go, there will be consequences.”

“Booooooo, you whore.”

He finishes tying his laces and jabs his finger at the phone. “Consequences, Y/n.”

“Ugh, fine.”

“See you soon, love you, bye.” He hangs up before you can get another word in, but doesn't move from his seated position in the entryway.

Slowly, he takes a deep breath in and lets it out, taking a moment to lean back on his hands while he stares at the back of his front door. Specifically, at the large collage of sticky notes and pictures and doodles that have taken up residence there.

A few of the notes are ones he's gotten from other members of your shared friend group over the years (the one from Chan that reads "if u eat my rice i'll eat ur kneecaps xoxo" hangs proudly in the center, right next to a picture of him sleeping that Seungkwan managed to capture from an extremely unflattering angle). But most of them are from you.

Dumb puns, meme references, bullshit animal facts you made up just to get him to laugh… almost all of them are stupid in that extremely charming way that only you somehow manage to pull off.

But the one he's staring at now is almost completely hidden by other notes and pictures that have been added to the collage. It's a pale blue, the ink starting to fade a bit with time — the first note you ever gave him, back when you two were just people who happened to sit next to each other in an astronomy class.

Even though most of it is hidden, he doesn't need to be able to see all the tiny words you crammed into the small space to already know exactly what it says.

how do u make a space party? u planet :P u looked sad today, hope this makes u feel a little better also if this is 2 forward feel free 2 pretend i don't exist. or punt me in2 the sun idk u'd be doing me a favor tbh

He'd almost skipped class that day because of how bad he'd been feeling, but he'd decided to try and push through. And before that day, neither of you had interacted with more than a polite greeting and the occasional question about the homework.

But then you'd passed him that note, and he'd passed one back that said “that's dumb. but thank you” with a smiley face, and you'd passed another one back that said “do u think lizard people have ever been to space?” and the rest, they say, is history.

Seungkwan shakes his head with a sigh before standing up and grabbing his bag and his keys, striding determinedly out the door. He's got a best friend to take care of.

Seungkwan should be at your place soon, and you're not quite sure what to do in the meantime.

You have your laptop hooked up to the monitor in the living room with Planet Earth queued up, you have the kettle filled with water and ready to go on the stove, and you have mugs and teabags ready on the counter next to it.

The Required Tasks™️ have been completed as much as possible without the arrival of your best friend, and now all that's left to do is wait.

Which, normally, you're not the worst at. You're excellent at entertaining yourself, actually, mostly because there's always something to think about. Whether it be about cute dogs that you've seen over the past week (I wonder if the pomeranian down the street will let me pet him next time), potential plot twists for the new fantasy drama you're a little bit obsessed with (what if Gregothy was cursed the whole time???), or generic ponderings of the human existence as a whole (do souls have the metaphysical equivalent of a fingerprint?), you're pretty much always thinking about something.

Which is totally fine and dandy and cool or whatever when you have the ability to, you know, shut it off. For example, when you need to do something simple and necessary like, oh I don't know, go the fuck to sleep.

You also hate when that manic mental energy somehow translates into kinetic energy as well. It makes you feel like a hamster in a cage, watching yourself running and running and running on that stupid wheel until you exhaust yourself.

Tonight's metaphorical wheel: stimming like wild in the kitchen. Flapping, rocking, (gently) slapping, making weird and fun mouth sounds, the whole shebang.

And again, normally stimming is fun. Stimming is great. But stimming because you feel like if you don't stop moving you're going to literally vibrate out of your skin is, to put it lightly, Not It.

It takes you about ten minutes to work out all of the energy until you no longer feel like your blood was replaced with pop rocks.

With a groan, you lower yourself to the kitchen floor and lay down face first. Because despite how exhausted you feel in every possible way, there's still something like an itch in your conscious, a fucking pea underneath the miles of mattresses that refuse to let you just. Fucking. Sleep.

Your pity party must've lasted longer than you realized (or, more likely, you dissociated for a hot second there) because suddenly someone's knocking at your door at the same time you get a text from Seungkwan.

And you know it's a text from Seungkwan specifically because you got Vernon to help you change your notification settings so that whenever Seungkwan texts you, the "i love you.. bitch" sound clip plays instead of a normal text tone.

For a fraction of a second, you contemplate slowly inching your way to the door like an uncoordinated caterpillar, but you swat the thought aside like you’re swatting a gnat and you awkwardly roll to your feet and make your way to your front door.

Without hesitating, you unlock the door, swinging it open with a flourish and sticking a finger right in Seungkwan's face before he can utter a single syllable, forcing him to cross his eyes.

You open your mouth wide like you're going to say something, pause for a moment, then tap your pointed finger to his nose with a quiet "boop."

He blinks, expression turning deadpan, and sighs. "I should have expected this, honestly."

“Yep!”

You let him into your apartment, and he makes himself right at home, mildly bitching at you as he goes to get the tea ready, and something within you shifts.

The inside of your head is still a bit of a dumpster fire, unfortunately, but inside your chest... something clicks into place that you're not sure that you're ready to name. Whatever it is, though, it's soft and warm and kinda feels like your heart is being hugged.

Smiling to yourself, you follow him into the kitchen.

💤 💤 💤 💤 💤

It was pretty much straight to “business” after that, and it only takes Seungkwan one cup of tea and two episodes listening to David Attenborough's dulcet narrations for him to knock right out, leaning heavily against your shoulder on the couch.

Which means it's now the perfect time to sit there and Admire Your Bro™️.

It's rare to see him so still, you think. He's an active guy, in pretty much every sense of the word, and you always feel a little honored when you get to be witness to his quiet, vulnerable moments like this one.

He looks so serene, face smoothed out and painted in soft twirling shades of blue from the screen of the monitor, though you can't see too much of it from this angle. Mostly you just see his cheeks and stupidly adorable button nose.

And you've seen the same thing a million times before — in all kinds of states and expressions — and despite how much you've tried to ignore it, each and every time you've caught yourself noticing just how cute Seungkwan is, it's caused that thing in your heart to scrunch up, full of the L-word feeling that you've kept unnamed for what feels like forever now.

Except, maybe that thing in your heart is tired of scrunching up. Maybe it's decided that it's tired of forever.

Maybe that thing has finally decided to burrow itself out of the walls you've built up because you find yourself finally allowing yourself to think, Holy shit, I think I'm in love with you.

You don't realize that Seungkwan has completely stilled against you, but you certainly notice when he suddenly throws himself forward so he can turn around and stare at you incredulously. Only he overshoots a little bit and ends up falling off the couch with a squawk and a dramatic flail.

"Oh my god, Kwannie are you okay?!"

He stares at you from where he fell, wide-eyed like you've grown a second head or like the time you'd tried to convince him that birds weren't real and actually just a government conspiracy.

"Am— am I okay? No??"

Now it's your turn to move off of the couch, coming down to his level to see if maybe he hurt himself when he fell. "Fuck, okay, did you hit something? Do you need an icepack?"

Seungkwan being Not Okay is maybe one of the worst things that could ever happen in the entire universe and you're trying not to panic as you reach out to check for injuries.

"No, no, stop—" he bats away at your hands and you stop in your motions, now kneeling in front of him. "I'm not hurt!"

Your brain does the cartoonish screech thing as it comes to a halt, and you furrow your brows. "But.. you just said you're not okay?"

"I'm not!" His eyes are still wide in shock, but he also looks confused and maybe a little bit like he's about to cry?

Oh no. If he cries and it's somehow your fault (because it has to somehow be your fault) you think the world might actually end.

"Okay, uh. I am— confused,” you start, sure you must look as lost as you feel. “But, um, what can I do to help?"

He swallows, and a part of you realizes that he's looking at you with an expression you've never seen before. "Did you mean it?"

Knowing that it's significant but not yet knowing why, you maintain eye contact. "Mean what?"

"What you just said."

You blink. "...that I'm confused?"

He shakes his head. "No, before that."

You have a hard time remembering what you just said when you're not sleep-deprived and worried you've just somehow accidentally caused irreparable emotional damage to your best friend. "Uh... when I asked if you were okay?"

"No, fuck," and it's a shock for some reason, hearing him cuss right now. You hear him say much worse things all the time, but you think it might be the way he said it — with a kind of desperate vulnerability that you're not sure you've ever heard from him before.

That thing in your chest twinges and you think maybe you're the one who's gonna start crying.

He says your name like a plea, and then he's on his knees right in front of where you're kneeling on the floor, reaching forward to cup your face in his palms. "You said— Y/n, you said "holy shit I think I'm in love with you.””

Oh.

You're pretty sure your heart falls right out of your ass and bounces across the rug, judging from the way it comes to a dead stop. You blink at him. Full of new and sinking kind of dread, you whisper, "...I said that out loud?"

He laughs, but it's tinged with incredulity and sounds a little too close to a sob for comfort. "Yes! You did!"

And wait, no, your heart is still stuck in your chest, because you can feel it start pounding against your ribcage in double, triple, quadruple time. He must see the fear in your expression, because suddenly his eyes are narrowed in a determined scowl and he growls, "Oh no you don't."

Then you find yourself going down with a yelp as Seungkwan octopuses himself around you, trapping you within the confines of his surprisingly strong arms and legs as he basically tackles you to the floor.

You try and wiggle away even as you know it's useless, and he grits, "Y/n dammit, answer my question."

"Why were you even awake?” You deflect, getting an arm free and trying to give him a wedgie. “You were supposed to be asleep!"

"I was supposed to be asleep?!” He screeches, easily evading your reach and poking your ribs to get you to reflexively pull back your arm. “You're the one who hasn't slept in literal days! And stop avoiding my question!"

"No!" He has you trapped once again, and you resort to licking his arm.

"Oh my god!"

He muffles his scream into your shoulder, long and frustrated, and then he just... goes limp. He loosens his hold and just lets his full body weight kinda crush the parts of you he's ended up lying on and just... lays there.

This is your chance, you know — to wiggle free and escape and run away from your feelings just like you always have.

But, for some reason, you don't — that scrunched-up thing in your chest holds you back. You stay there, lying beneath Seungkwan on the floor of your living room at one-something in the morning, and the two of you just breathe.

"It's okay, you know," he murmurs after a moment, so quiet you barely hear him over David Attenborough still narrating softly in the background. "If you didn't mean it. It's okay."

Holy shit, I think I'm in love with you.

And you realize how easy it would be to play it off, to blame it on the sleep deprivation, the way you blurted it out like that — to say (to lie) you meant it completely platonically, like the way you propose to Mingyu at least once a month when he cooks you all dinner.

And you also realize, quite shockingly, that despite how a part of you still desperately wants to run away, the larger part of you wants to stay. Doesn't want to run. Doesn't want to lie anymore.

You swallow heavily, briefly close your eyes, and take in a deep breath. "And if I did? Mean it?"

This time, you do notice when Seungkwan goes still. Slowly, he lifts his head so he can look you in the eyes.

When he doesn't say anything, just continues to look at you with an unreadable expression, you try to continue.

"Would you— would that— would it be okay? If I meant it? When I— when I said that I'm in love with you? Is— because um, like you said, it's okay if it's not, and uh—"

Your nervous rambling comes to a stop when he once again cups your face, but it's gentler than before, closer to a caress. The whole time you'd been talking he'd been slowly sitting up, and now he's on his knees next to where you're still lying down on the floor, looking down at you like all the hope in the world is somewhere to be found in your expression.

"Y/n." he says your name like it's something precious, and you feel the absurd urge to burst into tears. "It would be very okay." His thumbs make gentle arcs across your cheeks. "And just to be clear: you mean it in a non-platonic sense, right?” He chews on his lip. “Hopefully, in a very much romantic sense?"

Staring at him staring at you, eyes bright with hope and a little bit of wonder... you can only imagine you must be looking at him the same way. Your chest feels like it's full of helium but also like something warm and gooey is sloshing around in there. And all that hope and wonder and holy shit is this actually happening? is causing your tongue to stick to the roof of your mouth, and all you're able to get past your lips is a breathless, "Hopefully?"

"Oh my god," he groans in frustration, but it's light and airy and makes you think of amusement park rides and fairy lights and how you want to annoy the shit out of this man for the rest of his life, if he'll let you. He's shaking his head, smiling, beaming, and he asks, "Why can you never give me any kind of a straight answer, huh?"

"Because it's my life's purpose to be the bane of your existence until the day we die," you say, reaching up to hold his face too. "Also because I've never done anything straight ever in my life."

And then your body is moving before your brain can think it though, dragging him down until you can press your lips to his and finally, finally know what it's like to kiss Boo Seungkwan.

He makes a little noise of surprise, one that you can feel buzz against your lips before he melts into you. And oh, any thoughts you might have had are forcefully ejected from your brain because all you can focus on are his lips pressed to yours, the way they move slowly, gently, turning this chaste kiss into the most scorching experience of your life. His nose bumps against yours and the heat of his warm breath sends tingles throughout your body, and his hands, fuck, his hands are still holding you gently but also with a firmness that feels like he doesn't want to let you go.

And then he's pulling away, and you whine at him because this may be the cruelest thing he's ever done to you ever in your entire life. "Noooooo, why'd you stop?"

"Because, as much as I'd love to continue to make out with you on your floor while an old British man narrates about life on the Serengeti—” he mercifully ignores the way you choke on your spit at the way he talks about making out with you so nonchalantly "—it's past someone's bedtime."

Your mouth drops open in offended shock. Was he actually going to put you to bed like a child? Like you both hadn't just declared your romantic love for each other? "Are you fucking serious?"

He just stands up and crosses his arms, looking down at you with a single raised eyebrow. You take the part of you that finds it annoyingly attractive and promptly smother it, crossing your own arms from your position on the floor.

"I'm not a baby," you definitely don't pout.

"Hmmm...” And then the bastard fucking pouts at you. “But you're my baby."

You blink at him.

"Welp, that was nice while it lasted,” you grunt, rolling to your feet, “but I suddenly need to relocate to Antarctica and become a penguin herder.”

He pulls you into his arms with a laugh, and you let him, burying your face in the crook of his shoulder.

“You know,” he starts after he's held you for a few moments. “This isn't how I ever imagined how us confessing to each other would go.”

You snort.

“But also,” he continues, “it feels very 'us' doesn't it?”

"Yeah,” you murmur, not bothering to lift your head from his shoulder.

“Mmm, is someone finally sleepy?” he teases, starting to waddle you both towards your bedroom. “Did all the emotions finally wear you out?”

Instead of nodding, you lightly kick him in the shin and the sappy part of your brain that is currently in charge of everything thinks that his indignant squawk is one of your most favorite sounds.

The sappy part of your brain is right, of course, and when you wake up in your bed 15 hours later and accidentally smack him in the face, the urge to run is a little bit smaller than it was before. And the way he flushes bright red after you sleepily kiss him on the cheek is an image you're going to cherish until the day you die.

[ginnsbaker]

In Losing Grip On Sinking Ships (1/?)

Summary: Sequel to In Flames I Sleep Soundly; After the divorce, Wanda refuses to give you up. 

Chapter word count: 5k+

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Chapter Warnings: Angst, Masturbation

Author’s Note: So... this AU wouldn’t leave me. For my new readers, you don’t have to read the first installment . This can be read as a standalone. Title is based on lyrics of “This Love” by Taylor Swift

AO3 | Masterlist

Taglist: @blackluthxr | @esposadejoyhuerta​

Next Chapter: Two

One

It’s not a god damn funeral, Wanda thinks as she stares at her black outfit.

With a huff, she makes the quick decision to reach for the zipper near the curve of where her spine becomes her head, and then pulls it down so hastily it gets out of track and refuses to budge further than her waist.

Shit, Wanda curses under her breath, wiggling her arms from its sleeves, which isn’t exactly difficult given her recent weight loss. At first she tries to shimmy her body out of the dress, but she only succeeds in getting stuck further and sweating under her pits. Unfortunately the weight loss didn’t happen around her middle, and she also couldn’t get it to move upwards and over her head. The options are to either fix the zipper or destroy the dress. Wanda picks the latter.

Grabbing a pair of scissors, she starts to frantically cut through the silky material. Her heart races as she terrorizes the dress with fervor–grunting Sokovian words she’s surprised she still remembers–until the dress pools at her feet in tatters. Wanda feels her energy depleted after, and she crawls on the bed to lie face down, on her stomach. 

To some degree, her recent outbursts are gradually becoming a concern, especially since she’s back in her old Manhattan neighborhood. The smallest, most insignificant things tick her off, and a densely populated city like New York is filled with them.

Like last week, when she was shopping at Trader Joe’s, and someone kept hitting her backside with their cart while waiting at the counter. 

“I swear to god, if you don’t lay the fuck off–” Wanda’s ears burned when she looked over her shoulder and saw a frail, old woman who looked like she didn't have many years left in her. 

“I’m sorry.” Wanda croaked out and then pressed her lips in a straight hard line. 

“Oh, it’s alright. We all have bad days. But sweetheart,” The old woman warmly smiled at her and then leaned closer as if to share a secret. “You need to get laid.” She added like she’s giving some age-old, archaic advice. 

Wanda’s smile in return was pasty, and she hurried to remove almost half of the stuff(not without receiving a dirty look from an employee who had to put them all back) in her basket so she could leave the counter as soon as possible. 

The mysterious universe had a dark sense of humor. It was sex that brought her to this manic-depressive, freak-out-at-a-grocery-store behavior, and to be told by a stranger that she needed more of it was just the icing on top of this tremendous fuckery of a year she’s had. 

Wanda turns on her back and closes her eyes for a minute. She doesn’t even know why she’s wasted an hour of choosing what to wear for the day she gets legally separated from you. And yet she couldn’t help but give an extra effort to look good for you. All she knows is the days she gets to see you are rare. She can count on one hand the times you’ve met since that fateful lunch at the diner back in Westview. She needs to look her best in these opportunities. 

She needs to look her best, and hopes you’d notice.

Glancing back at her wide-open wardrobe, that’s when she spots it. Hiding in the furthermost end of her rack, is a decade-old sundress she’s kept all this time. 

The memory rises unbidden to her mind, before she could stop it. 

It was the dress she wore on her first date with you. She recalls picking it specifically because it’s green. She wanted it to match her eyes–your favorite part of her body. It made you gape. It made you go almost stupid with want, forgetting the way to the restaurant where you made reservations because you wouldn’t stop staring at her. 

By the end of that night though, the dress was lost somewhere along the trip from the door to the bedroom.

“Aren’t we moving too fast?” You whispered against her swollen lips, breaking the kiss while your hands roamed all over her shaking frame. Wanda merely moaned and put her lips to your neck, kissing every inch of available skin to her. 

You’ve known each other for years. It didn’t feel like you were moving too fast. Rather, it was a culmination of sorts–seemingly platonic hugs that lasted just a tad longer than they should, the way your eyes always found each other in a crowded room, kisses on the cheek that came too close to the mouth. And not to mention, the other people you’ve both dated in those times of being more than friends but less than lovers. 

The pace was actually agonizingly slow. A slow burn that had put all other slow burns to shame.

You directed Wanda back to your mouth and the kiss that ignited again is its own kind of sex. God, she never really understood the fuzz about making out because her sexual experiences in the past didn’t really pay much attention to foreplay. For a while, she was simply content with the sliding of lips and tongues. But then you dropped to the floor and began pulling down her soaked thong, while your dilated eyes never left hers.

Wanda’s breath hitched at seeing you fall to your knees and gaze at her with incomparable reverence. How could you worship her when you yourself were so achingly beautiful?

She needed you to touch her soon or she’d go crazy. “Please.”

Her panties only made it past one ankle before you dove in to taste her for the first time. 

Wanda of the present comes at the ghost sensation of your tongue against her throbbing clit. In truth, it’s just her fingers that brought her to climax while she kneels at the center of her bed, her ruined underwear down past her thighs. She bucks her hips a couple of more times before falling back to the mattress, spent. 

That old lady was right. An orgasm does help.

-

The divorce is final. 

Today, she signed away any legal right she has as your partner. As for everyone else in the meeting room, it’s just another ordinary day to dissolve a marriage.

Wanda’s wearing the sundress that sort of accidentally gave her release this morning. You keep looking at her, no wonder trying to figure out why the dress looks so familiar. And Wanda can’t look at you straight in the eye without blushing. 

You came in with your ever reliable back-up: Natasha. Now that you’re no longer married to her, Wanda’s insecurities about the true nature of your relationship with Natasha has come up to the surface. The way Natasha would pat your back and ask you if you’re alright. The way she’d ask you if you’d like something to drink. The way she also knows you take your coffee black with three teaspoons of brown sugar.

The way she’s just always there. 

It annoys her enough that you said Natasha was your person, because then what was she to you? The title of soulmate triumphs over wife, and Wanda wants to be both. She wants all the titles. 

Well, maybe not all. She definitely doesn’t want to be called your ex-wife. But she’ll accept the reality for your sake. She wasn’t lying when she’d said she’ll give you everything you want, even if it puts her on the sidelines.

“Hey, do you want to get coffee?” Wanda breaks the spell of silence that lasted some five minutes when your lawyers and Natasha left the room to give you two a moment. 

She immediately wants to take back her words when you look at her  incredulously like she had grown another head on her lithe, sagged shoulders. 

“Seriously?” you say, and spitefully chuckle. 

Wanda says nothing, just resorts to quietly admiring you in a skirt suit she’s never seen you wear before. In the short time you’ve both been separated, she’s noticed little changes of yours that makes her homesick for you. You will wear new clothes and shoes, get a new haircut, try a new hobby, walk a certain way, and then all these changes will pile up until you become this inconceivable stranger. Still beautiful–but a stranger nonetheless. She knows the consequences of her actions are harder on you, but maybe, just maybe, it’s equally hard for her too. 

“I’m sorry, but I can’t,” you sigh, despondent. “Maybe for you it’s not, but today is the worst day of my life, Wanda. Or second. Or third. I don’t know. There’s so many of them recently, but this is definitely in the top three. I just want to be alone.” 

Wanda will never get used to the way you’re now just either angry or tired of dealing with her. She’s afraid to reassess the odds of getting you back and finding out it’s worse than zero. 

“Right,” Wanda says, looking down at her feet. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

You hum in response.

“It is, you know?” Wanda says.

You shoot her a quizzical look. 

“It’s hard for me too,” Wanda clarifies. “I spent all morning picking out what to wear and getting all dolled-up, in desperate hopes you’d–you’d change your mind at the last minute.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel bad, or–”

“No,” Wanda cuts in in panic. Somehow she keeps saying the wrong things. “It’s hard for me. Because it’s the end for our marriage when all I want is to be with you right now.”

You avert your gaze and nod solemnly at her as if you understood. 

Do you?

Do you, perhaps, feel the same way? Or is she the only one still in love?

“I’m sorry for being a jerk,” you say, eyes downcast still refusing to meet her eyes. “I know it’s unfair for me to act like I’m the only one who’s hurting. I just–I’m tired of being angry and sad and lost all the time. And it doesn’t exactly help when you’re around. For once, I want to feel something else and I need to be alone to figure it out.”

I want to move on from you, is what Wanda thinks you really want to say and her eyes well up. This time, she prays you don’t glance her way. She might just break down right in front of you if you do. She’s never known this kind of desolation. And she only has herself to blame. 

For once, she’s thankful for Natasha’s presence when she interrupts the moment, asking if you’re ready to leave.

“I am.” you tell Natasha. You get up and round the long table to approach Wanda. She could no longer stop the tears from falling when she felt you place your hand softly on her shoulder. The touch is so featherlight, it may as well just be her imagination. 

“Thank you for giving me the best years of my life. Goodbye, Wanda.”

The pain that racks her entire body causes her to visibly shake. She has no idea how she’s still alive at this point. Not for the first time, she desperately wishes for a do-over. But the clock only moves forward, and it’s still moving to take you away. 

Maybe time will also be the one to bring you back someday.

-

Two Months Later

Wanda hasn’t seen you since the divorce. Not once. Nor has she heard from you at all. While you didn’t downright reject her when she had told you that she’d try to get you back, her unanswered texts and unreturned calls should be more than enough to tell her otherwise. 

Her only consolation is that you haven’t blocked her number yet. A few days after she last saw you, she texted to remind you to pick up the last of your things she has in possession. Natasha showed up at her door the very next morning, which confirms you still get her texts. The items are inconsequential in nature, but Wanda had the hardest time putting them in a box. 

She spent an unnecessary amount of time arranging your hardbound books alphabetically (“It’s just not the same, but a Kindle user would never understand.” you’d explain to her whenever you’d shop for more) and cleaning each protector of your small collection of Funko toys (“A dozen more of those and you won’t have space left in your side of the cabinet. What does that leave you with?” Wanda would reprimand you after seeing a shopping bag full of them in the trunk of the car. “Happiness.” you’d reply with a sheepish grin).

She smiled contritely after she had sealed the package; how ironic that she terribly missed the things about you she’s the least fond of. It’s as if the grieving doesn’t have an end. And if she had known you’d send Natasha to retrieve them, she wouldn’t have given them away. She wanted to keep them–wants to keep more of you as much as possible. Wanda wouldn’t call herself a masochist though. Not really. 

Because it’s not over yet. It will take as long as it needs to, and it won’t matter. Patience is her utmost virtue. 

And Wanda believes you feel the same, because there are midnights where her phone would ring from an unknown number. She’d answer and listen to shaky, shallow breaths for a minute before the person on the other line ends the call. It couldn’t be anyone else but you, could it? These moments are always hazy, however, muddled by wine and prescription pills. But Wanda swears they happen. 

The days aren’t so bleak when she pretends she’s still your wife, and you’re just in some faraway place–like a soldier that has gone to war, she’s left to count the days until she’s in your arms again. She goes about her routine as she’s always done when the two of you were still together; go for a run in the mornings, have eggs and toast for breakfast, and then walk Sparky in the afternoon. Her evenings, excruciating and long, are the loneliest hours. Sleep won’t come easy to her, if it comes at all. Her heart mostly breaks as well for Sparky, who still waits by the door around the time you used to arrive home from work. He’d patiently wait there until Wanda would call for him, or fall asleep in the exact same spot. And it’s not like she can talk to him and explain why you won’t come home. All Wanda can do is wait for Sparky to forget this learned behavior or forget you.

So, for the past two months, she’s been taking it one day at a time. It’s now the only way she knows how to survive. It’s working so far, she muses, as she stands before the proof of it while carrying Sparky under her arm, right in the middle of a quiet street in Queens. 

Wanda had loaned the capital for the business right after the divorce papers were signed, and when she got the alimony from it, it was more than enough to pay back the loan in full and still for some change.

She wanted to create something out of what she had destroyed. 

And that’s how the borough’s first Sokovian café came to be. Or at least will come to be when the renovations are finally completed. She can’t see much through the scaffolding that is still in place, but she can make out what it would look like once it’s officially open to the public.

Her contractor and fellow Sokovian migrant, Mr. Jacobs spots her from where he is installing the signage. “Ms. Maximoff!”

Wanda smiles up at him, brushing her bangs away from her sight. The haircut is recent and she kind of regrets it. “Is everything okay around here?”

“I believe so. There’s still some electrical stuff to finish, but I’m confident we’ll be done before your opening.” he tells Wanda.

Sparky starts squirming against Wanda’s hold. “Is it okay to come inside or should I come back another day?” Wanda asks.

“Of course. I had my boys clear out the area and install the A/C last night, so you should be comfortable.”

Perfect. She’s yet to test out the oven she ordered, and there are some new recipes she’d like to try. 

“And Ms. Maximoff?”

“Yes?”

“Don’t worry, this place is going to do great. They’re gonna love you and our culture.”

A feeling of warmth spreads through Wanda’s chest. “Thank you, Mr. Jacobs.” He gives her a salute before going back to work.

Wanda’s not ready for the emotion that consumes her when she steps inside her new café. She puts Sparky down on the hardwood flooring, and his nose immediately gets to work, sniffing every corner of the room he could find–which isn’t all that long to cover for a regular-sized Jack Russell Terrier like him. The rented space is relatively small, so Wanda had to be smart with its interior design; a long bench stretches from the open kitchen and counter to about two feet from the entrance, spanning two round dining tables that could sit two people at a time; by the window wall facing the street, is a high top table with two chairs. At most, three staff(including her) could fit in the open kitchen, along with a single espresso machine and a wall oven. All in all, the café can accommodate about six customers dining in at a time, which is why she’s hoping she’d do better with take-outs. 

Wanda did all the decorations herself, top to bottom. The floral ceilings are a combination of autumn colors–your favorite season–and pendant lights subtly drop from them to emit a faint, yellow glow. The polished concrete wall of the dining area gives it an industrial vibe, while red brick tiles clad the panels of the kitchen area. For the finishing touches, Wanda decided to place a variety of potted plants in every corner of the room. 

Standing at the center of it all, Wanda feels a sense of pride and fulfillment–something that seemed implausible to her just a few months before.

"Best coffee in the world. Maybe you should start a café business." You’d joke sometimes whenever she makes you coffee in the morning.

A shadow passes over her eyes as she looks out the window. Needless to say, there’s only one thing missing in it. The person she wants next to her when all her dreams come true.

You.

–

Pietro finishes a whole batch of white chocolate macadamia cookies by himself. Wanda’s twin brother flew in last weekend, a rare occurrence since she only sees him once a year at most. He’d be home in the holidays for dinner, and be gone the following day. He lives with a suitcase, and never stays in a city for longer than two weeks. Wanda wasn’t expecting he’d visit her after she broke the news of her divorce, knowing he had gone through the same ordeal twice already without fuss. Apparently, it’s a run-of-the-mill life event for her brother, and it almost did not make it to their bimonthly check-in calls. 

“You’re gonna have to pay me for those.” Wanda tells him. She’s crouched on the floor, feeding Sparky strips of dried meat as she takes a break between baking and practicing her Youtube-acquired skill of Latte Art.

“I thought it’s a welcome home gift.” Pietro says, licking off the crumbs from his fingers. With the bleach in his hair extending to his medium stubbles, their resemblance is close to nonexistent. 

“You earn ten times more than I do in a year.”

“So? What is family for if not free food?”

“It’s $52 dollars.” Wanda says.

Pietro hands her a hundred dollar bill. “Keep the change.”

Wanda smirks at him, pocketing the money in her apron. “I intended to.” She passes him a napkin, and gestures at his chin. He waves her off in a pompous manner, and instead, goes to the back of the shop to clean himself up. She didn’t think it’s possible to both know and not know someone at the same time. To look at them and see who they are versus who you think they’re supposed to be. In terms of money and status, he is miles ahead of Wanda, but perhaps at the cost of being unable to find the brother she shared her childhood with in Sokovia. Wanda’s not sure if he still exists beneath the layers of branded suits and expensive perfumes, she just knows she misses him terribly. 

“Second Chances,” Pietro proclaims as he returns a minute later, waving his hands wildly with an imitation of a fanfare. “A little corny if you ask me.”

“Well, I’m not asking you,” Wanda contends and then proceeds to scrub the empty tray that Pietro left in the wake of his cookie binge. “It’s a good name. People can interpret it however they want.”

“And you? What was on your mind when you came up with it?”

Wanda doesn’t answer that. 

“So,” Pietro jumps into a sitting position on the counter and lets his legs dangle from its edge. 

“How’s the quarter-life crisis, sis?”

Wanda cocks an eyebrow and gives him a once over. “Better than yours. All things considered.” 

Sparky comes up to him and stands on his hind legs to snuffle at his shiny loafers. 

“Touché,” Pietro laughs good-naturedly and crosses his legs to avoid the dog’s attention. “It’s weird though, seeing you get into this kind of thing.”

“What do you mean?” Wanda asks.

“You’re not a salesperson, Wands. Remember your girl scout days? Dad would buy all your cookies because you can’t sell for shit.”

Wanda snorts noisily through her nose. “Mom can’t bake for shit.” She notices the smile fall from his lips at the offhand jab at her brother’s favored parent. 

Wanda sighs. When she does get glimpses of the old Pietro, it’s mostly through negative triggers. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to–” Wanda starts to apologize but Pietro quickly changes the subject without a preamble.

“You’re really not going to talk about it?” 

“About what?”

“Playing dumb isn’t a good look on you.”

Wanda suddenly drops the tray on the sink, the violent sound of metal hitting metal giving both of them a minor headache. She pauses to think, and then says, “How about you just ask me straight instead of skirting around the topic of she-who-must-not-be-named?”

“Okay,” Pietro says in an annoyingly placid tone. “What were you thinking, cheating on Y/N?”

Wanda swallows dryly. She did ask him to be blunt.

“I wasn’t. There’s… I don’t know how to explain it. There’s this missing gap, and I acted to fill that gap.” 

“Was it something that’s missing in your relationship?” Pietro asks and props his cheek on his palm. The question is so familiar to her because she’s asked it herself countless times, the day she kissed Vision for the first time. There wasn’t an epiphany nor were there pieces falling into place when she had slept with him. And when she thought she loved him, it wasn’t because she thought she loved you any less. She came to the conclusion, not too long ago, that perhaps there’s just something rotten inside of her that she simply wasn’t aware of. 

Wanda shakes her head, weary at making sense of herself and her decision to risk everything she’s built with you for something as cheap as a fling. “None of this was her fault. Her only mistake was falling for someone who’s way beneath her.”

“I always thought she’s too good for you, no offense.”

Wanda’s smile is brittle as she recalls how Pietro’s toast at the wedding started with that exact sentence, word-for-word. You had squeezed Wanda’s clammy hand as you listened to Pietro rant about Wanda, and jokingly express his regret that you married the lesser twin. Wanda apologized for his tactlessness, and you responded with a kiss to her cheek, telling her how wrong he was, how you were only good and she made you better. 

“I’m sorry, Wands,” Pietro tells her earnestly. “I can’t say I’ve been through the same thing even with two divorces under my belt. I don’t think I’ve ever been in love with someone the way you both were with each other–or at least, the way she was in love with you.”

“Thanks, but that's not necessary. I’m going to fix it.” she says. 

It stings–the implication that Wanda was incapable of matching your love for her. But it only stings because it’s the truth. You deserve to be happy and she failed.  And yet, she also can’t survive the thought of you getting the happiness you deserve from someone else. After all this time, her selfishness hasn’t been tamed. 

Which is why Pietro’s next words hit her right in the gut. “Divorce can’t be fixed. Hell, it’s the only resolution for a terminal relationship. And hasn’t it crossed your mind that perhaps, she’s already met someone else?”

Wanda gives up on her search for the rolling pin. She cracks some eggs in a bowl and starts to furiously whisk by hand.

Maybe she’s an awful person for assuming you won’t be able to move on from her that easily. 

But that’s just how she sees it. 

“No.” she says.

“What makes you so sure?”

“I know her, Piet.”

Pietro starts clapping in slow, steady beats. “She divorces you and you’re still so smug about how she’s so crazy about you.” he says. 

“If you’ve ever felt loved by someone like her, you’d understand.”

Pietro ignores his sister’s underhanded attempt to hurt him back. He came to terms with the reality ages ago, that he’s probably not one of the lucky ones who will get to experience the kind love that Wanda boasts about with you. Maybe he had it once, not necessarily in a romantic sense. But when he thinks of love–real love–he thinks of no one but their estranged mother. 

“Or maybe,” He jumps off the counter to retrieve his coat hanging from one of the dining chairs.  “Love goes away eventually.”

“Not ours.”

Pietro couldn’t help the maniac laughter that escapes his throat. “Are you hearing yourself right now? Do you know how pathetic you sound?”

Wanda purses her lips, continues whisking. 

“Okay, how about this. If you really love her, then you’d at least want her to be happy, even if it’s not with you.” Pietro tries to reason. 

“Oh, so you’re suddenly an expert on the topic.”

“I’m a dick, not an asshole. And yes, there’s a difference.”

Wanda keeps working the whisk like a madwoman. Large amounts of bubbles are forming in the emulsion, and overbeating the egg mixture is definitely not in the recipe.

Pietro continues, “Yeah, I’m a cheater, same as you are–”

“Don’t you dare–” Wanda suddenly tosses the whisk on the worktop, a glint of something dangerous in her green eyes. 

“Let me finish,” Pietro appeases lightly. “I’m a cheater. I cheated on my ex-wives. But when I look in the mirror, I don’t see myself as some anti-hero who has the potential to be an actual hero and become the person they deserve to be with. Because I’ll never be that guy.”

“We’re not the same. We share a birthday, but that’s where the similarities end.”

“We share the same DNA, Wanda,” Pietro smiles through his frustration. Excessive stubbornness–another quality innate to Maximoffs. “But that’s not the point. You know she’d be better off without you. As cliché as it sounds, the only way you can actually show her you love her is by letting her go–completely.”

The shuddering sigh that escapes her is immediately followed by erratic sobs that go out of control fast. Pietro is right there in an instant, an arm thrown over her shoulder as her whole body jerks, rasping for air. 

“Shit, I’m sorry.” he murmurs into her crown. “You’ll be okay, Wands. I promise…you’ll be okay.”

“Will you be okay if I leave you here? I have to meet someone in a few.” 

Wanda heard you say in earnest. She lost herself for a while, stunned by the kindest pair of eyes she’d ever seen. The day flew by so quickly in your company, she hadn’t realized it was time to go. And to think that she almost skipped freshman orientation because going to New York University wasn’t exactly the plan. Columbia was–where her boyfriend was a junior. 

Her boyfriend, who she forgot texted her an hour ago asking if she was ready to go, and hadn’t heard back from her.

“Y-Yeah, my boyfriend is on the way to pick me up.” she mumbled, distracted by the glow of the sunset forming a halo around your head. You were beautiful in a way that was not entirely evident at first. Wanda was curious if anybody else had made the same discovery.

“It was nice meeting you, Wanda.”

“Likewise, Y/N.” she smiled like she’d been doing all day with you, and so frequently, that the muscles on her face were beginning to hurt a little. 

The smile you returned her way was glorious, but in a flash you were already walking away. Wanda couldn’t describe the way she fervently despised watching you go, especially without your number on her phone and no means to contact you in the future.  

“Y/N?” Wanda called out. Her heart seemed to swell and swing against her rib cage. 

“Yes?”

“Do you, maybe, want to hang out sometime?”

And the kindest eyes that ever looked at her gave the answer. 

Pietro leaves shortly after the tremors subside and her breathing returns to normal. The panic attacks aren’t that frequent, but she does get them now from time-to-time. They started right after the night you gave Wanda your wedding ring. 

With her brother gone, Wanda is left to wonder if you’ve met someone. She is left to wonder if you’re no longer miserable like she is, if you’ve taken considerable strides in moving on with your life. She tries calling you. Not to talk, but just to check if you still haven’t blocked her number. After several rings, you don’t pick up as expected. Not a setback. Not a progress either. She pretends you’re asleep or in the shower. She pretends you mean to call her back, but forgets to. 

And if a confirmation of not being blocked is all she gets, she’ll take it.

She’ll take what you can give even if it’s nothing.

[butmakeitgayblog]

Can I just say I love how like, into revisiting and analysing this dumb show’s scenes you still are — with the rise in popularity of streaming (I’m sure this has something to do with it, anyway) it’s become more and more commonplace for people to consume a piece of media, enjoy it, get bored of it after a while and never touch it again after moving on to the next new thing. It’s so wholesome and refreshing to see people still be so passionate and always find something new to talk about a show that, for all many of us care, ended 8 years ago. I do move in and out of being obsessed and disinterested with the media I’ve enjoyed, but in a world where I’m constantly seeing people say “oh you’re a fan of [X]? But that’s old :/“ (mostly about something that finished like last year lol) your blog is a breath of fresh air :)

Well thank you 🥹

The thing is, I get it. I get why and how people move on to different fandoms so quickly, and I don't really think poorly of that or anything. It's been almost a decade and it's easy to fall out of love with something after so long. Hell, when you think about it, this fandom has outlived the lifespan of a lot of entire relationships people have had 🥴. People find new things to get excited over and the *gasp* feeling of finding this new /thing/ is always fun. So I do get it.

But for me, it's just not that way. It's not that simple. Not because I think I'm somehow special (maybe a lil deranged 😬), but rather that's just how I operate. Before Clexa the only other ship I ever really cared about was Willara from Buffy which I watched when I was a goddamn teenager lol (RIP to my fellow gays always falling for girls who get shot ✊😔). I just don't get attached much to characters and ships. Usually ai like them in passing, enjoy watching them, and then that's... it. Tibette from the L Word. Wayhaught. Brittana. I like them and I follow them, but there's no real desire to delve deeper beneath the surface.

And then something like Clexa comes around and just absolutely fucks me up. It hits me and connects with me in a way that I just can't shake. Watching the show isn't enough. Thinking about it isn't enough. I have to discuss it and dissect it and fill in the gaps that we didn't see, and read and (now) create more stories for them just to understand everything about them to a deeper degree.

So few characters really elicit that kind of connection, but Clexa do. Even for a lot of the people who have moved on, at one time they felt that connection. Clexa was a fuckin madhouse for years and I think the fact that even still to this day people keep discovering and rediscovering them and falling in love with them all over again speaks volumes about just how wonderful that relationship and those characters actually were.

Especially Lexa.

Now, I love Clarke. I make it known that thiiiisss is a Clarke Griffin apologist's blog. That feral little kitten has never done anything wrong in her life. Ever. Including all of the terrible things she's done, as well as the many, many things that were flat out wrong. She is still innocent. She is only a baby. A murderous, tormented, compassionate, complex babygirl. So never get it twisted that I'm saying Clarke is somehow lesser than, but when push comes to shove when we're talking about baseline complexity, there is no character like Lexa. There's just not.

This woman was definition of doomed by the narrative. A child stolen away to be used as a glorified sacrificial lamb for her people. A toddler wielding a sword made of wood taller than her own tiny body, trained to accept her own life as expendable for the greatest good of her people before even learning her ABCs. She took the throne at 12 bby slaughtering her only companions and made her death mask out of kohl and fallen tears. Every person she ever loved as a mother, father, brother, either died for her, or by her own hand. The only two people she ever dared to be weak for were torn from her in the name of politics and the weight of her own bloodied crown. Under all the regalia she was just Lexa. Heda, always surrounded by her people and yet eternally just a lonely soul. Born here on Earth, raised to eventually die for others, left to rule over the people on the ground as best she knew how.

And yet through the pain, she was strong. So fucking strong it emboldened the warriors around her. She was brave, and lethal, and unyielding in her pursuit of peace. Meeting every push against her forward march to change head on, never flinching in her own brutality along the way. She knew that she was born for this; believed the black of her blood to be every bit as much of a blessing as it was a curse. Even when people doubted her and did their best to end her reign, Lexa always came out swinging.

She loved hard and kicked ass even harder, is what I'm saying. And the fact that they took a character like that and ended her so fucking carelessly? I just... I'm gonna be pissed off about that for a very long time. And until I'm no longer pissed off about that, I'll be here running mouth about it 🥴 probably still trying to make it better by writing her and the love of her life in as many stories as I can, so they can finally get the happy ending that was robbed of them in canon 🫡

[schrijverr]

The Hearts of Gotham 7

Chapter 7 out of 7

Bruce makes the Justice League believe he has two hearts and is a manifestation of Gotham’s night to throw them off his secret identity, not trusting them. When the sound system breaks, he doesn’t come clean, but lies instead that he split into two to make Robin. From there it spirals as all the Robins make the lies grow and twist it in their own ways, until the truth comes out.

This fic is based on this post and inspired by Bouncing Baby Bat, or so the Justice League is led to believe... by EmpressGeek.

On AO3.

Ships: none

Warnings: none

~~~~

Chapter 7: How It All Comes Crashing Down

Of course, nothing can last. Not that this was ever meant to last. Bruce always thought that the League would mess up and he could drop them and with that the charade. Or that he could give it up when he got more comfortable. Neither happened. And now he is still maintaining it. Though that is about to end.

It’s due to an unfortunate and unpredictable set of circumstances too.

If the Watchtower hadn’t exploded in their previous battle, if Clark hadn’t been hit with kryptonite, if Gotham hadn’t been the closest, if he could have reached his kids. Than none of this would have happened and he could have pretended to be a cryptid manifestation of Gotham’s night with two hearts for the rest of time.

Alas, it’s not meant to be and if he wants Superman to live, he’ll have to go to the Cave and cross his fingers that none of his kids are down there when he arrives with a big clunk of the League in tow.

So, here he is, tearing down the streets of Gotham in the Batmobile, Clark bleeding out in the backseat as Diana and Hal try to keep pressure on the wound, while Barry curses loudly and is of no particular help at all.

Because of course Superman would get hit with kryptonite shrapnel that lodged itself deep inside where they can’t reach, which meant he can’t recover. And of course he needs surgery, but the only kryptonite Bruce has on him is a weapon, not the surgical implement he has at a spare of at the Cave. And of course he can’t just let Superman die, because he actually likes the man.

Great.

Fucking fantastic.

He enters the right tunnel to the Cave, coming to a stop at the parking bay and throwing open the doors of the Batmobile. The Cave is luckily empty at first glance, so he just orders Clark to the medbay, ignoring how everyone starts to look around as he focuses on applying aid.

Now, Bruce has become a pretty good medic over the years. It’s a hazard of the job and he had to learn or die. And despite the fact that this is more difficult that setting a nose or stitching someone up, he’s pretty confident he can do this without Alfred, so he doesn’t have to blow his cover completely.

Bruce went to medical school for a year, that has to count for something right? He’s done field surgery before.

Clark is bleeding a lot and removing all the pieces is difficult, but Bruce honestly thinks he’s getting somewhere. The others are hovering over his shoulder, trying to get Clark to hang in there, and he has always worked better under pressure.

When the tides finally seem to turn, Bruce thinks that his decades as a vigilante and a dad have finally paid off culminating in this. Because after a tense 45 minutes, color is returning to Clark’s face and the bleeding has stopped.

Bruce bandages him up and mentally starts to calculate how quickly he can get them out of the Batcave, especially when Barry comments: “Where did you get a giant Penny? Or a T-rex for that matter. I feel like I should’ve asked about the T-rex first.”

“Cases,” he replies curtly, then adds: “Robin wanted to keep them,” because he has a reputation to maintain.

“You have a bunch of crazy shit here, Spooky. But also cool shit,” Hal concedes, poking around the evidence and the rest of the cave, making Bruce’s eye twitch.

He’s just about to lie that the others are somewhere among the stalactites sleeping so they have to be quiet and leave soon – because he might as well commit even more at this point – when there is a loud crash at the entrance to the Cave.

As he scrambles to find a way to signal whichever of his kids just came crashing in that it is a bad time, Dick’s voice rings out: “B are you okay? We saw your scuffle on the TV, so I came as soon as I noticed you were down here.”

Another crash, then Jason’s voice: “Don’t listen to him, dad! He’s being nice to hide that he’s been a fuck ass who ate the last of Alfred’s cookies!”

By that point, Dick comes sliding into view of the League. He’s in his socks, but dressed as if he came out of work (probably due to the cookies) and is sans mask. When he sees everyone his eyes widen and he scrambles to stop.

Jason, who is hot on his trail, slams into his back, making the two of them stumble. He catches his balance, then scowls: “What’ya do that for, Dickface?” then he looks up and sees the League as well, dumbly commenting: “Uh-oh.”

He too is dressed in street wear, but not the kind he wears when he’s out as Red Hood. Though Bruce notes the gun tucked into the back of his pants. There is also no mask on his face, but he’s still wearing shoes, probably caught Dick as he came in.

Bruce stands quietly to the side, not sure if he wants to get the attention back on him with the mess that has just been created right in front of them. While both the League and his two eldest sons just stare at each other for a moment.

A part of him wants to be upset that the Justice League knows now and he’ll have to face the embarrassment. Especially since it’s over something as silly as eaten cookies.

However, he can’t be angry. Jason called him dad again, he and Dick are screwing around, and both are comfortable enough to not only come crashing into the Manor for cookies, but also to come visit him in the Batcave. That’s worth more than his pride.

Besides his pride only grows when his sons are the first to recover. But it is Dick, who is the first to speak again. Apologetically he greets: “Oh, hi, uhm, we- we didn’t realize B had visitors over.”

“Sup, fuckers,” Jason adds.

Barry is the first of the League that manages to speak, dumbly saying: “You can take the masks off?” making both Dick and Jason laugh, while Bruce feels his own lip twitching slightly.

“Yeah, we can take ‘em off, Barry,” Dick answers him kindly, albeit a little amused.

Then it’s Clark, who speaks up from where he has been frowning. His face suddenly clears up and he points at them and exclaims: “I’ve interviewed you! You’re Dick Grayson-Wayne. What- What are you doing here?”

“Well, uhm, I accidentally stumbled in here?” Dick replies, knowing it likely won’t save him.

“That’s what you get for always being on the front of those gossip rags, Dickiebird,” Jason ribs his brother. “I don’t get recognized.”

Dick immediately turns to scowl at his brother: “You’re dead, that doesn’t count.”

“Totally does,” Jason informs him smugly.

Bruce decides to step in, before any of the horrified League members do, because that will only encourage Jason more. “Kids, please. Let’s all take a minute.”

By speaking up, he cut off any reactions by getting the attention back on him. A good idea in theory, but one that feels wrong when all the League member look at him. If he were a lesser man, he would have disappeared into the shadows of the Cave. He’s sure he has a grappler on him, he could take stepping off the medbay platform.

“Batman, what is happening?” Diana demands and Bruce would have been fine if it had been anyone but her asking.

He sighs, dawdles for a second as he fights the urge to pout and shrink away. Then makes the executive decision that he is too exhausted to try and salvage this situation. He never thought to make a contingency for this level of idiocy and he knows that there truly isn’t a real reason to keep it up for longer.

So, he pulls off his cowl, looking tiredly at the League as he says: “You just met two of my kids outside of the mask, because they’re having a fight over cookies.”

“Alfred’s cookies!” Jason corrects indignantly and Bruce does have to agree with that. He has shamelessly participated in fights over those cookies. So he gives Jason a small nod, which seems to mollify him.

“Bruce Wayne,” Hal exclaims. “Batman is Bruce fucking Wayne?”

“No,” Clark frowns. “I- I’ve interviewed Bruce Wayne dozens of times. He’s human. Completely human.”

Sometimes Bruce wonders why he works with a bunch of idiots, then realizes he sounds like Damian and quickly pushes the thought away. Though he can’t help but give Clark a deadpan look as he disables the sound system, maybe getting a little bit of joy out of the shocked eyes he gets in turn.

“You’re second heartbeat. It’s gone,” Clark says dumbly.

“Wait, is Batman going to give birth to another Robin? Because I don’t think I can be here for that,” Barry says in a panic and Bruce starts to think Damian might have a point, while Dick and Jason start dying of laughter.

Taking a deep breath, Bruce answers seriously: “I am not about to give birth, Barry. I have never given birth. I’m human. I’ve always been human. There never was a second heart.”

It’s quiet for a moment. Then the whole crowd explodes.

“What the fuck? What about all the little kids we met?”

“Batman, we’ve been working together for over two decades! How could you keep this from us?”

“I- I can’t believe I got punked by Batman.”

“Humans. Humans. I can’t believe- I-” Clark is the most shocked. Bruce almost feels bad, since he is his best friend and the man has been nothing but kind to him throughout all these years and he had no reason to lie.

“I’m sorry about lying, but it was the best way to work together,” Bruce tells them neutrally, though a little sorry too.

Jason, naturally, ruins his reputation immediately, slinging an arm around his shoulders as he grins to the group and says: “What B here means is that he was paranoid as fuck when he met you all and by the time Dick there came along, he was in too deep and too embarrassed to say anything.”

While knowing it won’t do a thing, Bruce feels the need to warn: “Jason.”

“What! It’s true. Right, Dick?” Jason exclaims.

Bruce looks at his oldest, but betrayal seems to be all around today, because Dick apologetically says: “It is, B, sorry. You really didn’t have to lie by the time I got onto the scene. You didn’t really have a reason when pitching it to me except for undercover training. It’s a bit of a bad look if you can’t find an explanation for a nine year old.”

“You were the first Robin,” Diana realizes.

“Guilty as charged,” Dick smiles at her charmingly. “I’m Nightwing now. Nice to meet you outside the mask.”

“Likewise,” Diana replies, shaking his hand, ever the princess. She then turns to Jason and asks: “And who might you be?”

“I’m Jason, Jason Todd. I was the second Robin. I’m Red Hood now,” Jason shakes her hand, still a little starstruck. Fondly Bruce thinks that some things never truly change. “It’s nice to meet you, Wonder Woman.”

“You can call me Diana. And it’s nice to meet you too,” she smiles.

In the background Hal whispers to Barry: “I thought Jason Todd died?”

With a wolfish grin comes onto Jason’s face and neither Bruce nor Dick stop him when he says: “I did, I got better,” though Dick does roll his eyes.

“Wait, I once caught Red Hood,” Clark says, suddenly realizing what he did. “You said you were Crime Alley come to life and I- Oh no. I…”

“Let a wanted criminal go based off the sound of an extra heartbeat with no evidence he was telling the truth,” Bruce fills in mildly.

“I appreciated it, Supes,” Jason pipes up with a big grin.

“Wait, your son is a criminal? Doesn’t that get awkward?” Barry asks.

“Well, I like to think of myself as more of an anti-hero, you know. One that steps in and doles out a more permanent kind of justice that Batman is too much of a pussy for,” Jason says.

“We have an ideological difference,” Bruce grits, pinching his brow bone. “He slowed down the murder. We’re working on it.”

“He’s working on it, I’m not really,” Jason tells them conversationally.

Though he is luckily stopped by Dick before he can say much more. The elder claps a hand over his mouth and smiles at the unconvinced League as he cheerfully informs them: “He’s a bit of a drama queen, it’s not so bad. Don’t worry about it.”

“I feel like we maybe should worry about that,” Clark says.

And while Bruce loves his friend, he is absolutely not having Clark meddle in Jason’s recovery and adjustment into the family. They have just made a step forwards and no one is ruining that for him. Not now.

Fortunately, before he has to hurt Clark’s feelings more, a motorcycle pulls into the Cave with Duke on it. He grapples his way over to the medbay, already saying: “Do we have some extra fear gas antidote, there is a- oh! Hi, uhm, you’re- you’re the Justice League.”

Then, because Duke is a loyal son and has moved up to Bruce’s second favorite, he quickly puts on a dramatic voice and introduces himself: “I am Gotham’s day and-”

“You don’t have to, Duke,” Dick cuts him off.

“Huh?” Duke asks.

“Yeah, we just kind of ruined it all. The League knows we’re just some people,” Jason shrugs, though he is grinning and doesn’t even have the decency to look apologetic. Bruce isn’t sure why he expected it.

“Oh, well, then I’m Duke, it’s an honor to meet you,” Duke tells them Justice League, who is still in shock at the sudden appearance.

Bruce hears Barry ask Hal if they’ve ever met this one and before it can become an actual question, he steps in and says: “We have more of the antidote over here. What happened? Did Scarecrow escape?”

“No, but some d-rate villain found an old stash,” Duke reports dutifully, taking the case of antidotes from him. “Cass is still fighting him, while I get this, but we have it handled. Don’t worry. I do have to go now.”

“Of course, good luck,” Bruce says.

“Thanks,” Duke smiles, before dropping down to the parking bay.

“Kick ass!” Jason yells after him.

“Give a call if you need back up,” Dick also calls out.

“Will do,” Duke promises, before speeding out of the Cave.

Bruce decides that this is the perfect opportunity and says: “We should leave too. The world saw Superman take a hit and us take off. Our latest battle site is still smoking. We need to make a public appearance to show that Clark here will be just fine. Maybe help with some of the clean up for good press.”

“But I wanna talk more about all this,” Barry whines.

“Yeah, there have been too many reveals and I feel like I haven’t processed any of them and have a hundred more questions to ask,” Hal agrees.

“Exactly!” Barry adds again. “Like you’re Bruce Wayne, I’m pretty sure I’ve never seen that kid before.”

“You’re human,” Clark adds, another betrayal of today.

“Well that’s tough for you,” Bruce says anyway, allowing himself to be a little bitchy. Today has been long, okay? “You can process in your own time and ask questions next time we see each other. Now get out of here.”

“Oehhh that’s his you’re in trouble voice,” Jason tells them, big smirk on his face.

“He’ll answer later, he just needs to be grumpy now,” Dick placates them and while it is correct, Bruce doesn’t want to promise that to them just now. So he glares at Dick, who just smiles back innocently.

The interaction goes unnoticed and Diana just smiles: “Well, then I am content to leave this revelation for now. Batman is right that we should return to the battlefield now, seek out our other comrades and assure everyone.”

“Thank you,” Bruce says. “Now get going.”

Fortunately, they start to do as he tells them, though Barry does pout: “Human Batman is a lot bossier.”

Bruce ignores it as the adult he is, loading the League back into the Batmobile so they can return to asses the damage and assure the public. As they leave, both Jason and Dick wave at them, calling out a goodbye that gets returned.

Before Bruce joins the rest of the League, he decides that he can be a little petty, so he stops and calls out: “Oh, and Dick?” “Yeah?” “You’re grounded.”

“What! Why? I didn’t do anything?” Dick exclaims indignantly. “Are you really grounding me for embarrassing you in front of your friends?”

“No, for eating the last of Alfred’s cookies,” Bruce says.

“Ha! Vengeance! Eat that, Dickface,” Jason crows with delight.

Dick splutters some more, before yelling: “You can’t ground me, I’m an adult. You have no power over me.”

“Still grounded,” Bruce shrugs, then gets into the car.

Before he can drive off, he can hear Jason laugh more at his brother, before Dick calls him a fucking tattletale, after which they can hear Jason shriek: “No! Don’t you fucking dare. No, no. Dickface!” before there is a shriek, followed a crash and the sound of a scuffle.

At that point Bruce planks the gas and they shoot out of the Cave. Cautiously Clark leans over and asks: “Is Jason going to be okay?”

“Oh, yeah, he’s going to be fine,” Bruce assures him. “They get a lot rougher when they’re all there. This is mild stuff honestly.”

“I can imagine. A lot of youngings can become a full house,” Diana says politely.

“How many kids to you have anyway?” Hal asks.

“Depends on how you count,” he shrugs.

“What the fuck does that mean?” Hal shrieks.

Deciding it’s a little funny how shocked they are, Bruce explains in detail: “Well, only Damian, the current Robin is mine biologically. I’ve adopted Dick and Jason, who you just met, as well as Tim, who is Red Robin and Cass, who is Black Bat. Then Duke is my ward. Steph, you know her as Spoiler, says she isn’t my kid, but I pay for her college and she eats my food. And Barbara, Luke, Harper and Cullen aren’t mine technically, but I still look out for them.”

“Fucking hell, Batman, at this point you have so many secrets from us, it’s like I don’t even know you. You could tell me that the T-rex eats intruders and I’d believe you,” Hal whistles.

Just to fuck with him, Bruce says: “He does,” then refuses to comment further until they’re there and have to leave the Batmobile to be the professional Justice League again.

Wanting to avoid the talk as long as possible, he slips out the moment he can. At home, Jason has convinced Alfred to make more cookies, which have lured in more of his brood. They’re all waiting when he comes in.

He is greeted loudly by Steph, who exclaims: “I can’t believe I did so much for your story and I wasn’t even there when they found out! This is so rude. I had to experience it second hand. Next time we’re fucking with people I demand to be involved in the solution.”

“I already told you, it was an accident,” Dick whines.

That sets off more squabbles, none of them actually caring about Bruce’s input, so he just stands off to the side. He nibbles on a cookie as he watches his kids fondly.

Next meeting he’ll have to face the music, get laughed at a little by the others and feel the embarrassment of letting it get so far.

Still, in his defense, he could have never known how far out of hand it all got when he started it in a fit of paranoia. And, despite the humiliation, he can’t be too mad. It only grew to what it is now, because of his family. He can live with all of it if he has his family.

[justmeinatree]

02 - Astoria : Locked Us On An Island

Summary : you find yourself trapped on a pirate ship, desperate to be saved. or is it the pirate that needs saving …

hope fades away in astoria, i’ll say whatever doesn’t make me stronger kills me

previous part

Word Count : 4.3k

A/N : it’s finally been figured out, this will be a 4 part miniseries !! i hope yall enjoy ✌️

“niall, let me row a bit, please,” you huff. 

the last few hours went by in a flash. from following niall up to a lifeboat. to the both of you struggling to do a 3+ person job, as quickly as you could, escaping the endless captivity that was forced upon you for the last week. 

the adrenaline seemed to leave your body as instantly as the boat hit the waters below. you felt the panic leaving your bones, your heart rate decreasing for the first time, the weight on your chest waning, your lungs sucking in a solid breath. and although the reality that was the last week, seemed to be settling inside you, exhaustion hitting tenfold, you still were not about to let niall row all the way. christ, he’s saved your life time and time again, the least you could do was this.

“would you just relax,” niall chuckles, shaking his head. “you act like this is my first time rowing off into the night.”

“wait” you exclaim, look of shock stricken on your features, “you’ve seriously done this before ? i thought you’d been on that ship all this time.”

niall laughs, eyes crinkling at the thought of a sedentary pirate, slowing his rowing to look at you properly, “s’my 6th time leaving a crew, darling. really no big deal there, pirates are always getting in scuffles. we’re not exactly the friendliest people. constantly getting thrown out for any number of reasons.”

“i had no idea,” you hum incredulously, shellshocked at the thought of doing such a thing every couple of years from the sounds of it. 

“it is, however, my first time with company,” he smiles wide, starting to row again. “you’ve no idea how amazing that is, honestly.”

“umm,” you hum, biting your lip. a thought plaguing your mind since you’d left the not-so-safety of the ship, something you were nervous to bring up, as you were petrified of the answer, “how does this end ? this little lifeboat voyage we’re on, i mean.”

you’d been stressing the idea, the further you seem to be heading into nothingness. although it was nice, the reassurance that niall had done this many times, without seemingly being too scarred from it all. but that doesn’t stop the anxiety all that much. was a boat supposed to just find you ? what if that boat held more pirates ? surely niall couldn’t fight them all off. would you be finding land ? what would that look like ? where would you be ?

“we’re probably about another hour from a little island. can rest up there for a while, then row to the mainland,” he explains as if there wasn’t much to it.

“wha- you know where we are ?” you ask even more confused. who was this man ? he was becoming more and more of a mystery. “how in god’s name could you possibly know ?”

niall laughs again, “christ, no faith in me, you,” he tuts playfully. “rule number one of living at sea, learn your way, take note of your surroundings at all times, and know how to get yourself to safety.”

“but how do you even know where you’re going ? it’s pitch black, no sights to even take in,” you wonder, eyes looking around yourself for any form of reference point. but really, everything was just pure darkness.

niall nods upwards behind you, chin pointing towards the sky, “moon’s rising behind you. we’re going west. and i know where we are because i’ve sailed these seas for over a decade, s’all i know. besides, i’ve been to that island before, one of the other times i’ve had to leave. you’re in luck too, s’one of the nicer ones.”

instinctually, you turn your head, looking up at the sky behind you, noting the crescent moon, working its way up into the sky, niall’s voice piping up to add, “sun’ll be rising soon too. excited to feel that for the first time in a while ?”

“mhmm,” you hum contently at the thought of warmth and proper lighting. it feels like a very welcomed opportunity to properly dry out. everything had been so damp. “you’re really very smart,” you murmur, a little shameful that you’d just expected otherwise due to his career choice. 

“you seem surprised,” niall chuckles breathily, smirking playfully at you, as he sees the shyness take over your face, eyes flicking away from his, demeanour curling into yourself. “hey, s’alright. i know pirates aren’t exactly known to be masterminds. and really, m’not.”

“but you know so much,” you’re quick to jump in, not wanting him to belittle himself. honestly, piracy aside, you were genuinely impressed with his smarts. “i could never do what you’re able to do.”

“lets just call it a different kind of smarts,” he smiles at you, “one you’ve never had to even consider before.”

you hum, nodding, contemplating. because he’s right. never had you a need to take note of the moon’s position, or the timing of sunrise, or reference points to find your way to safety. it honestly sounds exhausting. and for a solid moment, you felt bad for him. 

you’d always been told that pirates were like the lowest of the low. people that would do nothing but pilfer, rape, destroy, hurt. so far though, niall’s been everything but. he’s been kind, honest, caring, protective. you did not have a crush on a pirate. fuck. 

it was important not to forget that he did pilfer. stealing food and beverages for you. some boots and clothes as well. but he’s also done it in pure piracy in the past. hell, he even murdered people. to protect you from being seriously bruised and incredibly hurt. but, again, he’s also killed for no reason other than, you guessed it, piracy. 

were those things that you could forgive ? things that were of necessity just as much as it was to keep you safe and comfortable ? that’s where the line blurs isn’t it ? what were you ready to accept ? because not an ounce of his being seems truly bad. fuck, why did any of it matter ? you were not falling for a pirate.

either way, you were quickly jolted, quite literally jolted, from your thoughts, as the little row boat collides with a sandbar, sending both you and niall flying into a whiplash. 

“fuck. closer than i thought,” niall mutters under his breath, standing and stretching his arms high above his head, back rolling, muscles loosening. 

your gaze was fixated on his lower stomach, shirt ridden up from the stretch, dark tanned skin, tousle of hair leading down into his pants. the whole ordeal was over quickly, as he hops out of the boat, pulling it further up onto the sand.

you were left sitting there, thighs clenching, drool pooling into your mouth that you’re holding shut tight, not wanting him to notice anything. you could not be thinking this way. you could not.  

“y’alright there ?” niall chuckles, his hand stretched out in front of you. an offering of sorts, to help you balance yourself as you step out of the small boat. one that you accept graciously, the rocking of the waves jostling you around as you try to stand. 

“yeah, sorry. i’ve been distracted,” you explain, shaking your head, shaking the thoughts in your head, more like. 

“what’s on your mind ?” he asks, knowing how incredibly difficult this must have been for you so far. he remembers the early days at sea, they weren’t exactly the greatest. can’t imagine doing it all as a lady. one that had to fend for her life on a pirate ship. he definitely has the outmost respect for you, full admiration for someone that’s as headstrong as you’ve been. 

“uh- don’t worry about it,” you sigh softly, “just tired, i think. all this is starting to weigh heavily now.”

you were not about to let him in on your true thoughts. not for a second. christ, you didn’t even want to let yourself in on your true thoughts. because you absolutely will not come close to admitting that you’re falling more and more for a pirate. 

but really, look at him. with the sun starting to rise, you’re really seeing him properly for the first time. his eyes were piercing blue, accentuated by the brown tan that covers his skin. you’re now also noting that the brown tousles of hair poking out of this bandana turn more and more blonde the further you look from his scalp. another condition brought on by the harsh heat of the sun on the open sea.

he was well built too. muscles outlining his skin, years of hard manual labour clearly having its effects. and as tattered and dirty he was overall, you couldn’t help but wanting to curl up into him. he was he embodiment of safety, warmth, strength. even softness, a benefit to having your skin exposed to salt water. you wanted him. fuck, you wanted every little bit of him.

it was plaguing your mind. had been for a while. maybe this pirate was the silent answer to your prayers. christ, you must be delusional. it’s surely some form of projection. he’s saved your life and protected you more times than anyone else you know. that’s surely all it is. maybe a good warm nap will help you clear all these ridiculous thoughts. 

“think i’ll just take a nap if that’s alright with you ?” you hum quietly, looking around yourself to find a spot that would give you enough comfort.

“‘course it’s okay. lemme show you a good spot,” niall smiles, hand tentatively resting on your shoulder in comfort, starting to lead the way, hand falling between both of you, as you stride in time.

it took every ounce of your being not to rest your head against his hand. he was so warm, so comforting, you could cry. 

a nap. definitely a nap. 

to distract yourself as you follow him, you take in your surroundings. looking at the few palm trees, large open sandy space, nothing but shimmering blue waters as far as the eye can see. but at the moment, you were too tired to really take in how isolated this little island really was, having no choice but to put all of your faith into your pirate man. your beautiful pirate man. fuck. 

“here,” niall mutters, head nodding underneath one of the shorter trees, the shade more concise on one spot, soft grass growing beneath. “can use one of the big leaves if you want a makeshift blanket,” he explains, watching you drop down into the comfort of the grass, shuffling into the most comfortable position you can find.

niall looks around, trying to find some sort of anything that could be used as a pillow. when nothing immediately pops out at him, he quickly shuffles himself out of his vest, handing it to you sheepishly, “sorry if it’s dirty and smells bad. but, it’s a bit more comfortable than that giant root.”

he knows you’re used to much nicer things. cleaner things. nicer smelling things. he hates how much his brain is toying with him. you just want to be rescued, surely just to be brought back home and left to forget any of this ever happened. but you’ve rocked his mind more than the smallest boat taking on the largest wave. 

you were so strong, so unbothered, so determined, positive, happy. so beautiful. no pirates were ever like that. maybe his stupid brain was just confused. maybe he was just looking to latch onto the first sense of goodness. there’s no way he’d let himself fall for the lady that stumbled onto a pirate’s ship. not because he wouldn’t want to, you were everything to him since the moment his eyes fell on you. you were the little spark of light in his life. a light he hasn’t seen or felt since becoming a pirate. it’s because he was here to make sure you were safe. and once you are, reality would hit.

you would surely go back to whatever it was you were doing. marrying the richest man, if he remembers correctly. that fucking richest man. of course you don’t want someone like niall. 

“thanks,” you smile wide, accepting niall’s coat, bunching it up and cozying up to it, humming softly, contently. “really niall, thank you,” you mutter quietly, almost instantly asleep. something about having a little piece of him to curl up to seemed to wash away any and all fears. your beautiful pirate man. dammit. 

it was quite a while before you woke up again, the sun now starting to sit low on the west side of the island, clearly making its descent over the little sandbar. 

you notice that niall’s sitting just a bit further, closer to the water, fire burning in front of him, something clearly cooking overtop of it if the smell was anything to go by.

as you quickly stretch, you come to a stand, walking over to him, noting the pile of chopped wood next to him, “fuck, now i really feel bad. i’ve done nothing but sleep all day.”

niall startles slightly at your presence, not expecting you to be awake, looking over to catch you sitting down next to him. “please stop saying stuff like that,” he shakes his head with a playful smile. “really, just having someone else here is doing plenty for me.”

“you’d still be in the comfort of the ship if it weren’t for me,” you point out, really just looking for a reaction out of him. you were in a good mood after the long nap, finally a moment of silly freedom as your subconscious comes to terms with your overall safety.

“you’d be fucked if i hadn’t come with you,” he points out, eyes leaving the fire to flick to yours, a knowingly playful glint in his gaze.

“i’d have been eaten by a shark a thousand miles in the wrong direction,” you laugh, instinctually hiding your face in niall’s shoulder, slowly rising away from him when you realize what you’d done. 

niall laughs with you, “wouldn’t make it a thousand miles,” he mutters under his breath, his heart bursting at the slight touch, knowing that you’re comfortable enough to do so. and if by the looks of it, wasn’t something you’d planned, if the sheepish look you’re giving him is anything to go by.

“s’alright you know,” he murmurs, his arm gently resting over your shoulders, giving you a small nudge, a silent plea to rest against him again. if you wanted to of course.

you welcome the opportunity, tucking your head into his neck, revelling in the warmth, the comfort, hell even his pirate smell was getting to you in a good way. 

“don’t know how you did it,” you hum quietly, the darkness, the close proximity, making it easy to talk. “the first time you were rowing by yourself out at sea. must have been so scary.”

niall hums in thought, nodding, his hand on your shoulder giving a little squeeze, “think i was more scared of being hurt or weakened.”

“i thought we were gonna die out there,” you whisper, biting your lip, niall’s hand giving you another reassuring squeeze and a small rub.

“are you scared of dying ?” niall asks quietly, his head resting against yours, eyes locked on the fire ahead of him.

“yes, of course,” you nod. “aren’t you ?”

“no,” he shrugs softly. “i think to be scared of dying, i’d have to have something to live for.”

your heart shatters for him. literally, you can feel every shard of your broken heart stabbing you throughout the inside of your body. “niall-“ you murmur, looking up at him, sadness filling your eyes, “what happened to you ?” he’d mentioned his parents before. or at least his mum, and how she raised him to be kind. how did he end up here ?

he sighs, looking down at his boots, feet scuffing the sand below them, his hand rising from your shoulder to rest against your head, forcing it back down in his neck before speaking, “my mam died when i was young. a pretty graphic accident, i’ll spare you the details,” he explains quietly. “my dad couldn’t handle it. he drank the rest of his life away, and-“ niall shakes his head, “well, he eventually died too. didn’t have much going for me. no one to come and save me,” he shrugs. 

that hits you. it hits you hard. he’s done nothing but save you for the past week. something he’s doing out of the pure goodness of his heart. something he so desperately wished for himself.

“was working at the docks for a while, but i didn’t have anywhere to go, didn’t have a home. that’s one thing the pirate ships do offer. s’hard work, the food is awful, the people are a mixed bag, but at least it’s a sense of belonging.”

“niall, i- fuck,” you breathe. “i don’t even know what to say. i’m so fucking sorry. wish i could go back in time and save you somehow.”

he closes his eyes, shuts them tight, his forehead pressed into your hair, muttering, “just knowing that means the world.”

you bite your lip at his admission, a single tear rolling down your cheek, quickly wiping it away against niall’s sleeve.

“never told me how you ended up on the ship,” niall murmurs, desperate for any way to take the heat of the conversation off of him.

“couldn’t stand the rich guy,” you explain softly, shrugging. 

“why’s that ?” he asks, curious to have a glimpse into your reality.

“he’s not-“ he’s not you, you’re dying to say, but stop yourself. you can’t tell him that, fuck, you’re not sure you’re ready to accept that. to accept what that means. “he’s not a good person.”

“does he hurt you ?” niall asks quietly, bracing himself for the answer, not sure he’s actually ready for the outcome of that question.

“not physically,” you sigh. “not really anyway. not in the classic sense,” you try to clarify, shaking out the thoughts in your head. you didn’t want to talk about your sex life with niall. 

so you try again, going a different route, “he’s not sweet, he’s not comforting, he’s not really very kind to me.” fuck, he’s not you, you really wish you could shout into the void of this island. 

niall’s eyes close for a moment, squeezing you tighter to him, because really, how could anyone hurt you ? you were so sweet, so kind, how could anyone not want to give you the world ? he wishes more than anything that he could. that he had the opportunity to.

and well, he guesses that’s what separates their worlds so drastically. niall knew, deep down, that he was all the things that this guy wasn’t. but he also knew where pirates stood in the hierarchy of the world. and he knew even better where this guy stood. and that’s exactly why you were with him, and not niall. and it’s also why niall just needs to keep his mouth shut. 

so that’s what he does. he sits with you. in comforting silence. watching the fire, taking in the stars, sharing the crab he’d caught earlier. sharing a moment of empathetic peace. a moment of sympathetic understanding. a moment for the two of you to just be. secretly pining for one another, but too self deprecating to do anything about it. 

once the small bit of sustenance was polished off, niall finds himself guiding you back to the makeshift bed area, laying next to you, “get myself some rest before rowing back to the mainland tomorrow.”

why did that thought send a pit to the bottom of your stomach ? why did going back to the steadiness of flat ground make you want to vomit ? so you shuffle yourself closer to niall, silently praying that this wasn’t your last day with him. 

you stuff your face against his neck and shoulder, body curling up to his side, your hand resting on the warmth of his chest feeling the steady rhythm of his heart, murmuring, “s’a bit cold,” as an excuse to get yourself closer.

“‘course. it’s alright,” he whispers back, taking a deep breath off the top of your head, hoping that you can’t feel the increase in his heart rate. he was tearing himself up inside. with your warmth, your softness, at such a close proximity, his head was doing cartwheels. 

niall seriously cannot remember the last time he even had a conversation with a lady, let alone a cuddle with one. he can feel you two getting close, can feel the lingering heat from your breath against his ear. can feel every fibre of his being screaming at him to just kiss you. 

but then, there’s that nagging thought in his brain, telling him that it’s a bad idea. especially now, knowing that you have a man back home. and no matter how much you might hate him, you’re still with him. and well, niall refuses to let go of his sweet, kind image that he’s somehow upheld with you. and making you cheat would certainly pop that bubble that you’ve put him in. 

and so he does all that he can do. he cuddles you impossibly closer, under the premise of exchanging body heat, and falls asleep with the comforting thought that at least you had one last day together. 

it was upon waking up the next morning, that everything seemed to hit you hard. you were going home. back to reality. back to your every day existence. back to normalcy. back to your life without niall. and you hated the sheer thought of it all. however, you really didn’t have an alternative, as you’d quite proven to yourself that a life at sea was nowhere near as nice as you may have imagined.

and so you sit quietly, sadly, in the lifeboat, taking in the last moments with your beautiful pirate man. you make sure to keep him ingrained in your mind, looking over the glint in his deep blue eyes, the smoothness of his sun parched skin, the tufts of soft looking hair, the way his lips part for his tongue to poke out, the freckles lining his cheeks. 

the more you take him in, the sadder you become. this truly is the last time you’ll see niall. a reality that hits more and more the closer you get to land, the large port now visible in the distance. 

“do you know where you’re going from here ?” niall asks sadly as he helps you out of the boat again. “pirates aren’t really welcomed with open arms out here.”

“yeah,” you sigh, nodding, standing next to him, not wanting to make the first move towards goodbye. the longer you were standing there, the more awkward it was becoming, and yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to leaving quite yet. “where will you go from here ?”

“i’ll find my way,” niall smiles softly, “i always end up right where i need to be.” 

he looks over you, head to toe, one last time, shattered by the idea that he needs to say goodbye. he wasn’t meant to be on land, and he could never be selfish enough to force you into a life at sea. no, this was exactly what needed to happen. so he wraps his arms around you, taking a deep breath as he squeezes you tightly, “please don’t worry about me, i’ll be just fine.”

“i’m gonna miss you,” you admit quietly, your eyes pooling with unshed tears, gripping onto him for dear life. “i really wish there was a way for me to thank you. you’ve done so much for me.”

but he’s quick to shake his head, “seeing you safe is thanks enough. seriously couldn’t live with myself if i knew you were stranded somewhere at sea, getting ripped to shreds by some nasty pirates.”

as niall slowly pulls away from the hug, knowing that the longer this moment lasts, the harder it will be for him to actually walk away, he notes the unshed tears filling your eyes. and as much as it pains him, he needs to take that step, make that move towards goodbye.

he cups your cheek in his large hand, your face instantly leaning into his palm, head turning just slightly to peck his wrist. 

niall watched you attentively, storing the soft feel of your lips away for a moment where he’ll need the strength, murmuring, “this was my first rowboat trip that had me properly scared. because, i actually had someone to live for. i’m really gonna miss you darling.”

and then, a moment later, the warmth comfort of his hand has fallen, niall nodding his head in a small curtsey, before turning away and rowing off, not giving you a chance to answer.

you stood there watching him until he was nothing more than a spec on the horizon, tears silently rolling down your cheeks, a frog forming in your throat. you were in love with a pirate. 

Part 3

……

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

tags : @cc-horan28 @acesofspadess @justaranchhand

[t00thpasteface]

hey sorry i’m sure it’s a little dumb but how did you find a community/make mutuals on here? i swapped from twitter to here last year & haven’t been able to make friends like i did on twitter ;v; sorry if this is all silly but figured it couldn’t hurt to ask. love your art & blog !!!

as i like to say, it's like lifting an anvil: it's very simple, but that doesn't mean it's easy. as someone who's a 12+ year veteran that lurked for a couple years and remade a little while ago, really it all comes down to putting yourself out there!!! don't just sit around twiddling your thumbs and lurking. it's tough to do it without coming off as a pandering tryhard, but honestly as long as you're polite, upbeat, and posting regularly, then you're golden.

if you want a big list of wordy bullet points, here's what i've got, and i think you'll find it's pretty applicable to basically any site/community you want to get involved in:

post a lot. this is number one with a fucking bullet! POST! POST LIKE YOUR LIFE DEPENDS ON IT. but crucially...

post GOOD STUFF. don't bash yourself in the caption/tags, don't say "sorry this is shit" or whatever, don't self-deprecate, and don't admit to posting low-effort stuff just to hit a quota. imagine it's open mic night and go crazy. this is a good site to use like a journal and a scrapbook, but if you want to actually get some traction, you need to bring something interesting to the table. of course, just being funny and nice goes a very long way.

encourage audience feedback. people LOVE to tell you about themselves and give their opinions. get them responding and make the questions and calls for engagement so interesting or fun they can't help themselves.

tag effectively. use both fandom/content tags for searches, and organizational tags for your visitors' use. the tagging system is tumblr's bread and butter, so make it work for you.

follow a lot of blogs you like. then see who they follow, and add those to the list. build a good circle of engagement and keep your finger on the pulse of the site culture for whatever niche(s) you're in... or want to get in.

reblog a lot and be funny/kind in the tags. generally leaving a lot of comments/replies to post is kind of hit-or-miss, but tags are a good harmless "inside voice" to use that doesn't clutter the post itself and yet still engages with op and people seeing the post

engage with people when they ask for engagement. things like polls, ask games, etc... scratch people's backs and they'll scratch yours. and it's just a nice thing to do regardless :)

panhandling is not always the best route. people will balk if you look desperate or openly beg for engagement, like directly asking people to reblog something or being passive-aggressive about how much engagement you are/aren't getting on something. a genuine joke about it is fun and relatable, but snarky comments just kill the vibe and scare people off.

REMEMBER THERE'S NO ALGORITHM. lurking will not put you or any of the stuff you like out there!! REBLOG POSTS! SEND ASKS! this site will NOT SPOON FEED YOU ANYTHING. like taming a wild stallion, you can make this work for you, but you have to put in the effort first.

some people will think you're annoying, and that's okay. probably not very many, but they'll be loud. this is an unavoidable part of Being Known. you can be the sweetest peach in the world but there'll still be people who just don't like peaches. don't take it to heart, and if you do happen to drop the ball or rub a few people the wrong way, don't let that keep you from trying again :)

i've enjoyed the many friends i've made on this site in the past decade-and-then-some, even though both this site and my blog are both something of a ship of theseus. here's hoping you can make it work for you and your interests, too!

[stupendousfoxthing]

I want to share a post making the rounds that made a lot of great points, but op dismisses the idea of any romantic relationships existing between any two members of the group in the replies. I will never be down with the "no ships are real" crowd because I can't think of a single valid (non-homophobic) reason to think a romance between two men is impossible. A romantic relationship between two people who met when they were young, worked and lived together for the better part of a decade, and enjoyed each other's company so much that when given the opportunity to build lives separate from that work STILL chose each other makes more sense than a lot of other things people will accept as perfectly reasonable (if it's a man and a woman of course). But the homophobia is just one layer to their dismissal, and the post hit on several others. There are so many layers to the shitty way this fandom treats Taekook and Taekookers. The video I shared earlier from an anon tells it like it is. Taekookers are not delusional to believe it's possible there is something there. No matter what antis would like you to believe, they are not literally brothers. Saying they are brothers is literally delusional (believing something is true when there is evidence to the contrary). There is a pattern of suspicious behavior going back years and only intensifying during solo era. I've talked about this before, but during the frenzy over the Dream premiere last year I saw something I thought was funny. I saw two people on Twitter talking about it, talking about Taekook fondly, and saying they felt like it had been a million years since they had seen them together. I realized then that they had no idea about all of the things that had happened with Taekook in the months prior to that. I started to wonder if we get called delusional just because people really do only pay attention to what is laid out in front of them, mostly in official content. Like...yeah, we probably do look delusional if you don't know about 95% of the things that have happened. This would tie back into how the fandom sees Tae as well, and why he is treated like an outsider. If you've been in the fandom for a while, you know how people who go against the company narrative in any way are treated. Tae does go against that narrative. He has talked about the more negative aspects of their position openly more than any other member. Why was he allowed to hint that things aren't all rosy between him and the company in the recent documentary? Look at how the fandom treats those who go against the company, and you will know. Taekook as a ship has a unique ability to create a perfect storm of animosity in this particular fandom that literally has training materials and guidelines written up for "baby ARMY". Layers. Homophobia. Company loyalty over everything. The spoon-fed narratives. The "outsider" and the "privileged" one dating? But they're awkward brothers... Taekookers get treated like monsters, no other group even comes close and it isn't because we're "shippers". I see evidence of that everyday. Other ships/shippers within the group have a free pass to do whatever they want. The fandom loves Namkook, for instance. You can openly romanticize/sexualize them and the fandom eats it up. Tons of people showed their ass with Tae/IU as well. It's not shipping that bothers them. It's Taekook. Taekook challenges what they've been led to believe. Taekookers shine a light on it and celebrate it. That's what pisses people off, and I do believe that when they actually look at Taekook they see it too. We bring something that makes them uncomfortable to their attention, something they'd rather not see or acknowledge. When a Taekook "moment" happens and we haven't even said anything yet but people are already bitching about the fact they can't enjoy it because they know Taekookers will be happy and celebrating? It's not us. It's Taekook as a pair that bothers them.

[fleetsparrow]

I know I'm a messy bitch, but can I just say that I am L I V I N G for the current NaNoWriMo scandal???

There are not enough hours in the DAY for me to indulge in the deliciousness of this affair. There's drama! Intrigue! Unreasonable and illegal demands of unpaid volunteers!

Whether anyone wants my thoughts or not, here they are:

I am willing to bet good money that the current runners of NaNo are trying to incorporate. They are trying to make NaNo a Brand that can be Trademarked and Sold and Milked for all it's worth. NaNo is in her Venture Capitalist Era and she will be going down in a blaze of... whatever the opposite of glory is.

I truly think that the current owners were banking on NaNo having the good PR of a decade's long non-profit that would cover for the fact that they are going to be selling it to the highest bidder (if they haven't already), and that we would be so happy for them to do it because of Brand Loyalty.

It would honestly explain so much of the last few years, up to and including the recent forums bullfuckery and these new ML NDAs they're trying to pass.

And, before anyone accuses me of reveling in other people's misery (I mean, you're right, that is what I'm doing, but still) with no skin in the game, I'm not a stranger to the NaNo world. I've been here for a lot of years, too.

Yes, there will be a grieving process for what one was, but, my friends, that ship has sailed. A salute to her what once reigned queen, and flights of angels sing her to her rest.

And don't let the door hit you on the way out.

[souryam]

I've always been bothered by the analysis that Lily didn't care about Severus. Not only because I love their friendship and ship them together, and also because I think it cheapens the relationship as a whole and makes things fall a bit flat. I do understand where people are coming from tho. She does defend James to him, and is implied to be physically attracted to him even while being friends with Severus (I disagree with her already having a full blown crush, but I do think she found him handsome), also she's pretty emotionless when he's trying to apologize, which leads people to believe she was only looking for an excuse to ditch him. Which I strongly disagree.

First off, I don't think they would've lasted that long if she didn't love him a lot (as a friend or as a crush that's your pick). Their friendship lasted 6 years, and JKR confirmed that a huge motivation for James, personally, bullying Severus was jealousy she felt of Lily's attention and affection, he saw Snape as a threat. Potter watched Lily all the time, hit on her all the time. Lily is described to have a temper. It is almost impossible to me to believe that James wouldn't have noticed that Lily was bothered by Snape and outright wanted him gone from her life, therefore rendering his motive for the bullying flat. We see he is even more cruel when Lily stands up for Severus, mocking him further (as we see on the train scene in Prince's Tale and in SWM), exactly because he believed that they both liked each other (romantically or platonically)

Also, a scene that sticks out to me is the one in DH when Lily is insisting for Severus to stop hanging out with Avery and Mulciber. If she was just looking for an excuse, wouldn't she have given the ultimatum then and there? She clearly didn't like them, thought they were cruel, and they hurt Mary, which is implied to be an acquaintance if not a friend of hers. Why stay as long as she did, "making excuses" for him to her friends as she says, if she didn't want the friendship anymore? Her lack of emotion when he's apologizing can be easily explained away by how angry she is. That scene didn't happen after days or weeks from SWM, it happened in the same day and she clearly didn't want to speak to him in the moment, it being the only scene in which he demanded her attention in a sense. In Lily's POV, that was this friend she had for almost a decade, her oldest friend, who had just turned on her for no reason, when she was trying to help him. A lot of people ignore how bad Severus is at expressing his feelings and telling her hard things about his life (as seen in him using euphemisms for his father's behaviour when we know that he was being brutally whipped), so it's very possible that he wasn't transparent with her about his insecurities or how bad the marauders' bullying affected him, so she never thought much of it. Might be a little insensitive, but hey, she was a 15 yo. It always seemed to me that he presented himself way more as a shoulder for her to cry on than the opposite.

Also, the memories that were given to Harry were not meant to show the pretty moments of their friendship, at least not in my interpretation. Yes, it had some cute moments to make clear to Harry that they were friends, but to me it was way more about showing Harry the conflict of Snape's life from the start, the Dark Arts and the DEs, which he was very tempted and interested by, and the Lily, who's a symbolism for Light in his life. She was the one pulling him away from them, warning him, and he wouldn't listen. That's why basically all their scenes have some sort of conflict. To show Harry how his entire life, he was in between those two sides being pulled back and forth, and when Lily's pull was gone, he headed straight in to the Dark Arts, and ofc, that didn't end well at all.

This got super long for no reason and it's prob very badly written but it was mostly a word vomit lmao I just rlly like them and yes they had their problems but most friendships do :( they would've worked it out in another universe...

[zvtara-was-never-canon]

Hello ! I'm fairly new to the fandom: a friend of mine advised me to watch the original series before watching the live action (I'm not American and I had never heard about ATLA before that).

So I wasn't there when the fandom seemed to be torn by the ship wars, like two decades ago. I keep seeing Zutara's fans claiming that their ship was the original endgame except that there's no evidence in the show (at least with my "virgin Atla eyes") and all I can see are interviews of the creators/showrunners saying that Kataang was the endgame all along.

I guess my question is this : is there an actual interview of them entertaining the idea of Zutara at the time (even just to shipbait) ? Because I've been in several fandoms where creators/writers would do that just to keep the audience interested (*cough* Riverdale - yeah you can judge me...).

You say that Nickelodeon promoted the ship wars. In what form ?

That was a long ask. Thanks for reading me!

Okay, so here's what you need to know to fully understand that mess: back when the show was first airing, lots of zutara fans had fully convinced themselves that either the story was going to be changed to make their ship canon (because "it's more popular than Kataang") or that Zutara was TOTALLY planned to be the endgame from day one and that's why some many people liked in the first place (because "there's no way this is all in our heads" - spoiler, it was).

And this wasn't a case of fans simply disagreeing on theories about how the show was going to end - lots of people were being AWFUL to each other on fandom spaces, and the behavior was not exclusive to zutara or even just the other non-canon ships. Everyone was calling anyone who disagreed with their takes stupid and bragging ahead of time of how THEIR ship was going to be canon instead. And because the internet was not at all as inescapable as it is today and information was much harder to verify, some people were making "100% legit claims" that their parents or uncle or cousin or whoever worked on Nickelodeon and had fully confirmed Zutara would indeed be a thing.

Nickelodeon, being the shameless corporation that it is, realized that ship wars could mean A LOT of money because people would keep watching if they thought there was any chance of their ship becoming endgame. So, whenever there was an episode in which Zuko and Katara would interact, they made sure to not only include it in the promo for the episode, they'd describe it as "sharing a special moment" or "growing closer" even when that was not what was going to happen in the episode itself. They didn't do that just with Avatar either, and would spend years pulling simmilar things with the hit shows ICarly and Victorious, both of which had ship wars too. In hindsight (and even back then if we simply compare the promos to the episodes) it's obvious that Nick's promos should not have been taken seriously, but Zutara fans latched onto them as "proof" anyway (and some Nick exec laughed all the way to the bank).

But then the finale happened, Kataang and Maiko were endgame, and Zuko and Katara were never even stated to be interested in each other like that. The ship just wasn't a factor in the story - much like Kataang and Maiko fans had said it wouldn't be, because it was obvious what the writers were actually going for.

So, instead of admiting they let their enjoyment of a fanon ship get a little out of hand and that, even though they had every right to like it, it simply never had any chance of being canon and they shouldn't have insisted otherwise when the truth was so clear, they went for a different approach: just double-down on the lie that they had inside knowledge about the show's writting and production, and make up a whole conspiracy about how the lead writer and "true creator" Aaron Ehasz and everybody else had been building up to Zutara from day one, but then Bryan and Michael or "Bryke", the evil showrunners, meddled at the last second and forced them to change everything.

They also claimed there were things like a "deleted" scene in the finale, with Iroh saying Katara would be perfect for Zuko, or with a kiss between the characters, or Katara telling Aang she loved someone else, ya know, all kinds of copes. Nickelodeon made it worse by airing some "fun production facts" during re-runs, plenty of which were obviously fake - but one mentioned "Zuko was going to be Katara's original love interest" so plenty of people were willing to pretend it was all 100% legitimate. And the icing on the cake was an "interview" in which Ehasz supposedly confirmed all of the conspiracies, "proving" zutara fans had always been right about everything and it's the Kataang and Maiko fans that were lying to themselves.

Unfortunatelly for these people, pretty much EVERYONE has a social media presence nowadays, and it's really easy to not only get in contact with writers and producers of the shows we like, but to also PROVE that what you're telling everyone is indeed what that person said.

And there's tons of videos and screenshots of everyone involved in writting and producing the show saying, including the ones that like Zutara, saying KATAANG was the planned endgame from the start, and Aaron Ehasz has repeatedly said that the supposed "interview" in which he validates the zutara endgame conspiracy and "calls out" Bryke is completely fake, and he's happy MAI got to live happily ever after with Zuko.

Finally, we got access to "the series bible", aka the original plans for the show, and we got to see everything that was cut or changed: Uncle Iroh was originally going to be a twist villain that would betray Zuko, Azula was still going to be a prodigy and Ozai's favorite child but she'd be Zuko's older brother instead of his younger sister, and there was a cut love triangle between Aang, Katara... and TOPH, who was going to be a super buff dude, much like we see in Ember Island Players and in the opening sequence of every episode because yes, they had already designed that character AND started book 1 when decided "Wouldn't a blind girl that looks delicate but can wreck people's shit be more interesting than this generic guy?"

But even now that disproving this Zutara endgame conspiracy is easier than ever because we can just ask the people who made the show, some people continue insisting that all these writers and producers, again some of which DO like Zutara, are lying for no reason - or because "Bryke is forcing them to hide it all."

They're just desperately trying to save face and pretend that they didn't spend over a decade lying to themselves and their buddies, and sometimes using this conspiracy to justify bullying, threatening and doxxing people.

It's VERY sad.

[4seasonsofart]

Hunter or the Hunted? | Hybrid Thorfinn (Part 2)

A young Snow Leopard hybrid meets a Siren hybrid in the most unlikely of cases. Will a friendship blossom, or will the tides of fate pull them under?

Season 1: Thorfinn sees you after eleven years.

Hybrid Thorfinn x Reader

Hybrid Thorfinn (Part 1) Season 1: 6 year old Thorfinn meeting you.

1013: London Bridge

Over eleven years have passed since that faithful day, and the resentment within Thorfinn has only grown stronger. With each passing second, he came to hate Askeladd more. For what he took from him all those years ago. His anger was like an unquenchable thirst that could only be satiated by the blood of his fallen enemies.

Only one thing could temporarily snap him from his traumatized trance: the chance to duel Askeladd once again.

"Thorfinn. We have some work for you. Go bring me Thorkell's head."

Like a trained dog, he perks up at those words and scowls towards the man who ripped his life from its hinges. He replies snarkily and makes sure that the promise of the duel is kept if he completes his mission. 

"Promise me you'll give me my reward."

"Okay. Okay. The same as always, right? You're so stubborn. Getting so worked up about a fight you can't win. Maybe you get it from your father."

Askeladd states this in a coy tone as he polishes a golden goblet he obtained from one of his many Viking raids. He knows exactly how to push Thorfinn's buttons and how to make him bend to his will. He was just a foolish kid with a dream of killing him, after all. It has a sense of idiotic nobility to it, although Askeladd would never tell him that.

"Don't forget, Askeladd."

"Only those who fight on the battlefield get what they desire. That's the way of the warrior. My head's not cheap, you know. I'll duel you as often as you like. Go bring me Thorkell's head."

● With a new mission, he did as he was told, like a good little Viking boy. He leaped from the ship and landed on the edge of the bridge. Something appears out of the corner of his eye. A tail? He almost ends up with a sword through him as he takes one of Thorkell's soldiers down. He has no time to be distracted by things that aren't possible.

● He meets eyes with the Draugr hybrid, a hulking zombie-like man with an insatiable thirst for blood just like Thorfinn. His nature was much more relaxed and open. There was no malice in his eyes toward his new opponent. Thorkell just wanted to fight Thorfinn. Just to fight.

● A swing, a hit, and a miss and Thorkell is looming over the injured young man with a broken wrist. Thorkell's Dragur instincts were getting the better of him, and he wanted to attack the hybrid; he wanted to cause him pain; he wanted to taste his blood.

● All of Thorfinn's hybrid senses were overstimulated. He can't think, move, or hear anything without wanting to rip his heart out of his chest. It is all just too much.

● Thorfinn is able to feel his leopard ears twitch and hear such a silent, longing, and angelic sound. A sound he hasn't heard in over a decade but is able to easily identify.

● Thorkell raises his giant log to bash Thorfinn's head into the side of the bridge when he stops. The entire battlefield stops and stands in a trance. It is as if time has stopped once again.

Just like when... No, you couldn't be alive...

That same euphoric and peaceful feeling from his childhood floods back into his body. He sits completely lax against the bridge as his muscles have fallen asleep on him. His ears droop towards the top of his head as his tail slumps near his thighs. His hazel eyes close completely as something pulls him deep underwater.

The song lasted for less than a minute, but it felt like an eternity to everyone on the battlefield.

They all stand around each other with bewildered expressions, unsure if fighting is what they should be doing. Did they just get seduced by a Sirens song? Is there still a Siren hybrid out there? Who's side does this Siren belong to?

None of the soldiers had any answers. So they did what all soldiers do, and they began their bloody masquerade once again.

● Askeladd already had a plan in his mind as he watched a silhouette of a hybrid swim with Thorfinn towards the shore. Oh, this is an opportunity that cannot be wasted.

● With Thorfinn back on the shore and soon to rejoin the band of Vikings he had grown accustomed to, he stares at you in awe and fear. As if his past just came back to haunt him like his dreams.

The crisp fall winds nip at your fatigued bodies as you both stare at each other without saying a word. Thorfinn notices all of the changes in your body and how you have grown into something more coveted than the last time you both met. You notice how he has gone from an innocent child to a broken warrior, barely in adulthood.

He makes the first move and kicks you back into the water before clutching his broken wrist and dislocated shoulder. He takes a step back to get further onto dry land. He keeps his body language closed off and protected from you.

"Thorfinn..." You try in a hopeful tone. As if the years you spent apart were nothing and you just wanted a friend again.

"Stay away, beast."

Those three words break your heart once again. They had been told to you an infinite number of times. Yet, it hurt the most coming from him. Was it because he was the only one to show you genuine kindness for so long?

He hisses through gritted teeth as his tail raises and his ears perk up. He turns around and promptly begins running back towards the band he has known for so long. He just couldn't take seeing you again. You were one of the reasons that he kept trying to duel Askeladd and win.

A reason to live. A reason to fight.

You have actually been alive for the entire time? It feels like a stab in the chest. Like you betrayed the few months of friendship he had with you so long ago.

It doesn't matter why you left—you still abandoned him.

You probably didn't care for him anyway. Just another siren looking to use someone for their own gain. 

You are a beast—no better than Askeladd in his eyes.

[vigilskeep]

Hi can you elaborate on 'isabela is grieving for a large portion of da2'? 👀

oh sure! the only thing i mean by it is that, um, isabela was shipwrecked just before you meet her. she loses her ship, the siren’s call, which was once her husband’s and which has been hers since she commandeered it the night zevran assassinated him. it’s been her home, the source of her income and lifestyle, and the marker of her freedom and independence for years. on top of that, in her own words, “i managed to make it to shore. most of my men weren’t as lucky. poor sods. i knew some of those men almost ten years.” she’s audibly emotional when she says this, her voice gets quieter and sadder and she does this slight laugh at herself for it because she recognises it. worth noting that they’re the people she knew best for the last decade, and that she as their captain is responsible for the chase with the qunari they died in and the risky choice to sail into the storm to get away. she uses the same genuine tone bringing up her crewmates on one or two other occasions—she has this ambient line to hawke that’s something like, “i knew a sailor like you once. we lost him in a hurricane. very sad” which always makes me laugh sorry isabela bc it’s so out of nowhere but her tone IS genuine on the “very sad”—and while i don’t think she let men under her command particularly close, she led them and cared about them and they’re gone

idk i just think it’s underdiscussed how hard a hit she took. clearly nobody who survived stuck around and she seems to spend a significant portion of her time drinking decidedly alone in the hanged man. isabela’s all about chasing the next fight and pressing on to the next thing and not looking back, but people who never slow down tend to be running from what they’d have to think about if they did. she’s good at rolling with punches and staying on her feet, but for me it’s hard to argue that what happened to her men isn’t partly responsible for the distance she tries to keep with hawke, and especially how she deals with the whole arishok conflict. even after hawke duels for her life, she apparently avoids them for the whole three year act break, having convinced herself they’re better off without her. after all, her crew followed her into that fight too, and look what happened to them