#i spent ten minutes of my life on this horrible image

[rosemary-bells]

[talkativetrashpanda]

One of the things I’ve been dreading has happened. We had to put Emma to sleep. I’ve lost dogs before, but that pain was NOTHING compared to this. Emma was more than just a pet. I grew up with my first dog, Kristen, and she passed away when we were fifteen. I was devastated, we’d literally grown up together, but I was too young to have a deep connection with her like I did Emma.

2013 was a horrible year. Arguably the worst in my life. We lived in a duplex owned by my grandfather, he lived on the other side. I was very very close to my grandfather and we spent A LOT of time together. I literally spent time with him every single day. I was a senior in high school when he had a massive heart attack and died.

We’d just been there. Not even ten minutes before. We asked what he wanted for lunch, and mom headed back to our side to cook. When we came back, he was gone. He’d had a massive heart attack that (thankfully) killed him instantly. But my mom and I found him. It was an incredibly traumatic experience that I still have a crystal clear image of in my brain, but at least I’m able to talk about it now.

He died in October. Kristen died EXACTLY a month later, to the day. It was devastating, trying to cope with two major losses. A few months later, I experienced a third, when my boyfriend of three years dumped me in a text message and ran off to florida with some whore. We’d literally been planning a life together after school. He’d given me a promise ring, which he said he’d replace with an engagement ring once we graduated. He’d given me absolutely no indication he’d changed his mind and I was completely blindsided. It was for the best in the long run, but at that time, it felt like I’d lost everything.

We’d said no more dogs after Kristen, but we were all so heartbroken and lost that we decided to get a puppy. I’ve taken the long way around to explain that we raised Emma, and I don’t know how we would have gotten through all that without her. My mom said she knows for certain that dog saved her life. I know she saved mine.

Trying to go on without her is just…it feels impossible. I got through everything with her. She was there every time I was sick, or had surgery, or had my heart broken. She was the one that comforted me when I was hurting and now she’s gone.

It’s even worse for my mom. Emma was basically her emotional support dog. I’m pretty sure she loved Emma as much as she loved me. When she was coping with my grandfather’s death, she’d sit up at night and hold Emma and talk to her. Emma always listened, too. She’d cock her head when you spoke to her and she’d make eye contact the whole time. And she was so damn smart.

She had such a huge personality too. She’d argue with you, she’d throw tantrums like a toddler. She was smart enough to understand you and stubborn enough to ignore you. God, I still can’t believe she’s gone.

We knew it was coming. We knew she had heart failure and we were on borrowed time. We tried to prepare, but how can you? Nothing compares to the real thing. We were given 12-14 months, and we got sixteen. We could see her deteriorating. We could see her beginning to struggle. But she was so damn happy and playful.

We called her wiggle butt because she’d always wag her tail so hard her whole butt shook. She was still doing it when my parents took her to the vet. But she was struggling to breathe and we swore we wouldn’t let her suffer.

I was worried about how my mom would take it, I figured it would destroy her and I was right. They brought her home and she was in a little box, sort of like a coffin. I’d originally said I didn’t want to see her, but mom said she just looked like she was sleeping so I went to say goodbye. And she did, she looked peaceful. It was what came afterward that’s been really traumatic.

Mom was convinced she was still breathing. She made me feel Emma’s chest and was begging me to tell her she was still breathing. Obviously she wasn’t. I had to tell her. She still wouldn’t let Emma go. I told her she had to and she started screaming that she couldn’t. Having to pull my mother away from my dead dog is something I’ll never be able to unsee. Then she started having a panic attack and I had to make her breathe. She was inconsolable. She heard dad begin digging the grave and freaked out. She’d originally said cremation would be silly and expensive but she couldn’t stand the idea of burying her. Then she freaked out about them burning her. I told her she had to choose. She finally chose cremation and I was able to call a place and make arrangements. A family friend offered to cover the cost.

I haven’t really had time to process my own grief and feelings. I expected my dad to stay strong, as he’s usually the strong one, but both my parents have been wrecks. So I’ve been the strong one, making the arrangements and taking care of things. Unfortunately we had to go to Nashville literally the next day for my wrist surgery. It’s been a time.

My dad said something he meant as a compliment, but upset me. “You’re handling this so well.” That’s something I have heard my entire life, and it was never true. I just got better and better at hiding it. My childhood was pretty damn traumatic in an unconventional way (death, death, medical trauma, more death, etc) and I didn’t deal with any of it. I just packed it away. For YEARS I heard “gosh, Allie has handled everything so well, she’s so mature. I couldn’t have handled it. I’m impressed with how she takes everything in stride!”

No I just got excellent at concealing and repressing and has crippling anxiety and depression and wanted to die a little bit.

But I digress.

Hearing those words again were triggering. I can’t do that again, I can’t repress everything again. I’ll lose my mind. But right now I have to be the strong one, the level headed one, and I feel like it won’t be long before the dam breaks.

[mariacallous]

Warning: This story contains graphic images and descriptions that some readers may find disturbing.

Scrolling through photos from the mass burial site in Izium, Oksana Sova immediately recognized her husband's bracelet on a corpse's wrist.

"I immediately knew it was him," Sova, 37, told the Kyiv Independent. 

It was that blue-and-yellow bracelet he always wore as a lucky charm – a gift their children gave him before he headed to the front line back in 2014.

Her husband, Serhiy, went missing in action in Kharkiv Oblast on April 19. On that day, they got to talk for two minutes before he had to go back to the front line. Sova has been trying to call her husband’s number day and night since then, but to no avail. 

All this time, Sova had been clinging to the hope of seeing her husband alive. But with every passing day, it was becoming more difficult to brush off the looming reality.

On Sept. 16, sitting in heavily-shelled Nikopol in Dnipropetrovsk Oblast, Sova was glued to her phone, checking the news emerging from the liberated areas of Kharkiv Oblast.

Ten days earlier, Ukraine launched a sudden counteroffensive in the northeastern region, liberating the city of Izium by Sept. 10. Soon, a mass burial site containing 447 bodies was uncovered in the recently liberated city. 

Immediately, a photo of a severely decomposed arm with a blue-and-yellow bracelet on it started circulating online. 

"I was crying, screaming horribly, and couldn't control it," Sova said.

Seeing their mother lose control of herself for the first time, her children, aged 9 and 14, immediately understood what had happened. But still, Sova left some room for doubt until she found another photo of her husband, this time capturing the tattoos still visible on his body. 

"It was as if it wasn't just my husband's life that ended, but my life ended," Sova said, bursting into tears. "I lost all meaning in life."  

New Year's memories

The latest New Year's Eve is the last happy memory that Sova now holds on to. 

Serhiy served in northern Chernihiv Oblast at the time, but his commander permitted him to make a quick trip back home to see his wife and two children. 

Even though Serhiy only had two nights at home, the family made the best out of it. They had a barbecue and made plans for the year ahead.

"We just wanted to spend time at home, together with the whole family, and nothing else," Sova said with a hint of a smile.

Less than two months later, on Feb. 24, Russian forces began an all-out war. The northern Chernihiv Oblast, where Serhiy was stationed, immediately became the front line.

After successfully defeating the Russian army in Chernihiv Oblast, Serhiy's regiment was transferred to northeastern Kharkiv Oblast, where fierce battles were ongoing.

In one of his last phone calls, Serhiy talked about the increasing intensity of Russia's shelling. 

"(My husband) didn't back down," Sova said. "He stayed and fulfilled his heroic duty till the end." 

Soldier by birth

With her husband being a soldier during war, Sova had to get used to the agony of living with uncertainty.

Serhiy, a cynologist, was first drafted in 2014, where he served in the village of Pisky near the Donetsk Airport. His main task was supplying Ukrainian defenders holding the airport with arms.

Since then, he has spent most of his time on the battlefield, only occasionally returning home to be with his family. 

Knowing the risks, Serhiy would sometimes sit down with his wife and try to prepare her for the worst possible outcome.

"He knew where he was going. He knew what he was fighting for," Sova said. 

Every time Serhiy returned home, he felt a strong urge to go back to the front line, worrying that Moscow would escalate and launch an all-out war.

Despite being away, Serhiy was always a good father and husband. Sova said he would always hear her out and was "a shoulder to lean on." 

"It hurts so much how I want to talk to him now, and I can't call him," she said.

Sova is now also struggling financially since it's nearly impossible to find a job in Nikopol, a city located just across the river from the Russian-occupied Zaporizhzhia Nuclear Power Plant in Enerhodar and shelled daily.

Saying goodbye

To officially confirm her husband's death, Sova traveled to Kharkiv Oblast to identify the body a few days after the exhumation started at the mass burial site.

The body was heavily decomposed, so she was asked to look at one of the tattoos to identify her husband. The body was then handed to the family for burial.

A total of 447 bodies have been exhumed from Izium's mass burial site, the State Emergency Service reported on Sept. 25. All but 22 bodies belonged to civilians. Kharkiv Oblast Governor Oleh Synyehubov said that most bodies contain "signs of violent death," and 30 of them having traces of torture. 

A week after Serhiy's body was discovered, the family held a private funeral in Nikopol. Late on Sept. 24, President Volodymyr Zelensky awarded Serhiy the title of Hero of Ukraine posthumously.

Despite their hometown now being on the southern front line, shelled daily, Sova said she wouldn't leave their family house full of warm memories of their 15-year-long marriage.

 "(15 years with Serhiy) was the best thing in my life," Sova said. "He was the best person in my life." 

[regretsofalifeandlovelost]

The start of a long journey

I spent a year working with my psychiatrist, psychologist and our sex therapist on strategies to work on my self image body complexes. It wasn't until I joined a group session with other women and I learnt of their struggles with the same issues. "Claire" was someone who managed to break through the wall and had started to love her body. To do this she was sharing nudes without her face under a pseudonym on reddit. She said the up votes and positive comments from complete strangers on the posts gave her confidence that she was not getting else where. After talking with my partner I setup a reddit account and shared my first nude. Coincidentally it was the time my partner had seen me completely nude in a seductive position, only ever random glimpses in the shower, we had always kept the lights out during sex our entire relationship. My first photo was a selfie in the bathroom mirror with some random towels to hide the distinctive bathroom in the background just in case anyone we knew would recognise them.

Within an hour I had hundreds of up votes and positive comments. It was the first time in at least a decade that I felt horny, I felt a sex drive build up inside me.. as soon as the kids had gone to sleep I jumped my partner, the light went off and he fucked me. The drive inside me was unsatisfied, I was unfulfilled, I lay there with him snoring beside me wondering what was next. After an hour awake I started to google on my phone. I decided to take some close up selfie's of my vagina and upload them to reddit. It was the first time in my life I had actually had a close look at myself down there. It felt foreign to me, like it was a part of my body that was there but I was unfamiliar with. Within a few hours I had over a thousand up votes and several tens of comments. I lay there still unsatisfied and left yearning for something more.

The next week we had our monthly sex therapist couples session. It was the first time I opened up about how I felt and my experience of sharing the photos. My partner was surprised, he said it was the first time that he had ever heard me comment about anything sexual, ask for anything or do anything sexual in the 20 years we had been together. The therapist gave us a book of things to try as couples and home work to try out a few. That night we took some more photo's of me and shared them on-line. My sexual frustrations started to rage again and we started to play the games from the book. We showered together and then we tried to 69. We had tried this early in our relationship but my body issues stopped it progressing. With a nice clean dick I was enjoying giving him a blow job, but I felt that my partner had no idea what he was doing with his tongue, to be honest I was not sure what he should be doing, but it felt good/bad/good bad in a cycle. The book had described several techniques and it didn't seem to be working. After about five minutes I could feel his body tension, his balls rising and I knew that he was about to ejaculate in my mouth. It must have been a while because it felt like he was spraying my mouth for 5 minutes, his sperm tasted horrible, unlike my previous partners which had passable taste. I could feel it running down my hands on his shaft and down his bum crack onto the bed sheets. As soon as he had finished he gave up trying to pleasure me. Again I lay there wondering why, wondering what, wondering how I could be left in this position. What am I doing wrong.

I was on my phone while he was busy snoring away again. I was reading reddit threads of couples in a similar predicament. I ended up stumbling on cucks, couple swaps and sex parties. Reading the threads and watching the videos that other couples had shared I became so horny. I was so focused on the content my mind was racing that I thought I had wet the bed. It was the first time I had been so wet that my underwear was soaked. I slid my hands down there and felt myself for the first time in my life. In my mid 40's here I was discovering my own body. After a few minutes I stopped, I felt uncomfortable.. As I pulled my hand up from under the blankets I could smell myself, a sweet smell that I hadn't experienced before. I put my phone down and went to sleep. That night I had crazy dreams, I must have slept lightly as I could remember all of them. I was in a gang bang, I was fucking some random guy that I didn't know. I woke up so aroused and exhausted. I googled how to stop being aroused. I needed to satisfy myself but could not bring myself to do it. I was just about to try when the kids came in asking for breakfast. It was an interruption that distracted me long enough to move on.

Over the next few weeks my partner and I made several attempts at other games in the book before we returned to the therapist for our monthly session. We worked through and discussed the problems, he pointed out to my partner that he needed to be more engaged and not thinking about himself only. I could see that he was extremely uncomfortable. It was like the therapist was attacking his manhood. We did an online survey/test and it came out poorly for both of us. The therapist said that we needed to work on satisfying each other as well as ourselves. My partner dropped the bombshell that he had been masturbating almost every day for our entire relationship because his needs had not been met. I was shocked and disgusted. How could I not know this? I guess it made sense we had only had sex under 10 times in 10 years before we started this journey.

The next night I attended the group sessions and went for coffee with "Claire" afterwards, she said that they had tried sex parties, couple swaps, cucking and found that it was a great way to work together at building up each others confidence and to learn what works on your partners by watching. That night I did not get much sleep as I researched the topics.

[moonbeamwritings]

one missed call

Summary: You were haunted by what happened in Egypt. The loss of your friends and the disconnect from the others that came in the years afterwards weighed heavily on your mind. One night, after a horrible day at work, you find that you received a voicemail from someone you never thought you’d hear from again: Jotaro Kujo.

Author’s Note: This is a little different from what I normally post. A little less fluff, a little more angst. There are very brief mentions of blood, but they’re vague. Let me know what you think!

The second you stepped through your apartment door and closed it, you slumped back with a sigh. “Worst day ever,” you spoke aloud. Kicking off your shoes and dropping your bag, you collapsed onto your couch, relishing in the silence of your living room.

This time of year was always… difficult, to say the least. Not only were the holidays beyond stressful in and of themselves, but you were reminded, more so than any other time of year, of the loss of your dear friends.

Every night over the past week had graced you with images of gore, the rush of blood and water, and the whirring screech of an ambulance coupled with the muffled voices of Speedwagon Foundation medics, their hushed conversations blaring in your ears despite their quiet tones.

“Noriaki Kakyoin. Time of death approximately-”

You shook the thought from your head, feeling all the more sick to your stomach. Your day at work hadn’t been easy given your current state, but your boss refused reason, seemingly working you harder knowing that you were suffering. You were tired, in more ways than one.

You flicked the television on and disappeared down the hallway. If I’m gonna be upset, you thought, I might as well be comfortable. Tugging a warm, soft sweater over your head and a pair of sweatpants up your legs, you were ready to tackle whatever horrible tv show was on and whatever leftovers you had in the fridge.

You reheated some take-out you’d had over the weekend and dropped back onto the couch, mind slowly shutting down at the sight of a brainless, campy reality tv show on one of the stations. Perfect.

Your position on the couch gave you a clear view of your phone, resting on a small table across the room.

Blink blink. Blink blink.

The green answering machine light was on, which almost never happened. Nobody calls me, you thought curiously. You muted the tv and made your way over to the phone, a funny feeling bubbling in your stomach.

Clicking play, you felt your heart stop in your chest, completely ceasing to beat as it knocked the air from your lungs.

“Hi,” a deep, smooth voice spoke through the phone, “This is Jotaro Kujo. I hope I’ve reached the right number.”

Your mouth fell open as you heard him. It was really him. You hadn’t spoken to Jotaro since you last saw him at the airport in Egypt, 10 years ago. You would scoff if you didn’t miss him so damn much. Back then, he’d looked at you like he had something to say, but it seemed as though he opted to bite his tongue. When Polnareff had pulled you all into a group hug before returning to France, you had a sinking feeling in your chest. DIO had been defeated, sure, but something still didn’t seem right.

You moved on, as they all seemed to. You returned home, you went back to some semblance of normalcy despite the nightmares, the loneliness. You had half a mind to be pissed, to ignore the phone call and to kick Jotaro out of your life for good, dealing with the spiraling thoughts all on your own. You couldn’t do it anymore, though, and that’s what compelled you to hang on to his every word.

“I, um-” There was a pregnant pause, almost so long that you had assumed he hung up, “I hope you’re doing well.” He let out a short laugh. There was no joy in it. “Well, as good as you can be, I guess.”

“I wanted to call to apologize. Leaving you in the dark for so long, letting you live with the grief all on your own, knowing that I was going through the same things. It never sat well with me. The old man said that just telling you what’s been going through my head might help, even if you tell me to fuck off. I know my emotions are nowhere near as obvious as I think they are.”

You felt your heart start to beat again, slowly going faster and faster until it was little more than hammering in your chest.

“Yare yare daze, I guess I just-” Jotaro cut himself off again, a creak in a chair sounded in the background, “I couldn’t handle it. I know it’s a pathetic excuse and I know you must be angry with me. You might not even listen to this message. I wouldn’t be upset if you didn’t.”

How could I not, you thought in silent response.

“I just couldn’t bring myself to reach out, well, until now. You reminded me of everything I felt like I couldn’t have, what I can’t have.”

You found your brows creasing in confusion.

“I was in love with you back then.” Another mirthless laugh, a beat of silence. “I guess I still am. That’s why I called. Look, I’m sorry for going radio silent, for not reaching out… for everything. I was afraid and I felt like I didn’t deserve you.”

Hot, wet tears began racing down your cheeks and you had to place a hand over your mouth to stifle a sob. You closed your eyes as the message played on.

“I don’t deserve you. I’m being selfish, but I can’t do this anymore. I need to see you, if you’ll have me.” The call fell silent again and you could swear you heard Jotaro let out a soft sound, a sniffle followed by a clearing of his throat. When he returned to the phone, you could hear the emotion in his voice.

“I’m sorry. If you get this, give me a call. Bye.”

With the click of the phone, your living room was plunged into silence, save for the sound of your soft cries. You furiously wiped at your tears as they fell, walking back to sit down on the couch to will your heart to just slow down, if only for a minute.

Your mind was reeling, sending your whole world spiraling upside down. All over just one phone call.

He’d been in love with you? Then, and even now?

It was hard to believe, which made the whole situation that much worse. Why now? Why in this way? Had he, too, been thinking about that fateful trip to Egypt all those years ago? Was November and December just as difficult for him as it was for you?

It was painful, dealing with endless thoughts all while fat, salty tears raced down your face, dampening the sleeves of your sweater with every swipe at your eyes. You leaned back against the armrest, losing yourself in the nonexistent patterns decorating your ceiling.

Thinking back now, perhaps all this time spent with no word from him was so upsetting all because you were in love with him. How stupid, you blubbered, to be thrust into such an emotional upheaval all over a boy you’d fallen in love with at 17. It’s not fair.

He hadn’t even called, or tried to. He had ten years to do so and clearly he knew someone who could connect him to you. You rolled your eyes at the thought of the Speedwagon Foundation’s involvement in all of this. It was frustrating, racing back and forth between anger, sadness, and elation.

You resolved to deal with this mess tomorrow. Maybe sleep will help, you thought as you tucked yourself into bed, eager to shut your eyes.

Sleep did not come so easily because of course it didn’t. Echoes of his words rattled in your mind, playing on a loop as if to torment you, to make your nights even more sleepless. 

Before you knew it, the sun was up.

As if to give you some sort of reprieve, you were off from work. A small treat from the universe to say, you can rest, just this once.

You practically dragged your body down the hallway, eyes stinging with a lack of sleep and unshed tears. With breakfast sorted, you sat down to listen to the voicemail again. You weren’t sure if you were just trying to make yourself more upset or if the warm, orange glow of the sun shining through your blinds would bring you some form of clarity.

The second time through did little else but convince you that you needed to talk to Jotaro, no matter how painful it may end up being.

With a shaking hand, you reached out to dial his number, taking each digit slowly as a way to delay the inevitable. The line began to ring and you could almost feel your mouth running dry, the thudding of your heart threatening to burst your chest open. You bit your lip in a futile attempt to keep the water in your eyes from spilling over.

After four rings, you could hear Jotaro answer, “Hello?”

The ringing in your ears, the pounding in your heart, they didn’t stop with the sound of his voice.

“Uh hi, Jotaro? It’s me.”

[wtfevenismypage]

Observer, not Profiler PT.2

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!reader

Summary: You’re similar to a profiler, but you can tell almost anything about a person just from a single glance. What they had for dinner, if they took a bath or shower, their name, favorite color, if they lie, even if they’re good in bed. You’ve been running from the government ever since you got caught hacking into their systems and since then you have been diagnosed with Extreme anxiety, anxious tics, and paranoia. But now the BAU need you’re help in Identifying killers.

Warnings: mentions of murder, mentions of child porn(for the case, doesn’t go into detail), mentions of corpses, probably a few curse words.

You watch as everyone separates, and you follow The three agents to a room with a round table and a board of pictures with dead women.

“what can you tell us about this man?”

Agent Aaron sets a file down on the table as Spencer gestures for you to sit down.

You open the file, looking at pictures of a man with short hair and a muscly build.

“His name is Maxwell, He’s thirty four. In this picture he had just finished... killing a woman. He probably had to force her away from a crowd because his social skills are lacking, he treats women like toys and men like competition. He’s a severe liar. He won’t just lie when it’s essential he’ll lie about anything for no reason. He’s killed before, but this time was for fun. He was bored.”

Agent Prentiss stares at you with her jaw on the floor, and your gaze drops to the floor.

“Okay that’s awesome. How do you do that?”

You shrug shyly before meeting her eyes.

“I’ve been able to do it ever since I was a little girl. I’m not sure why though. Don’t think I really want to know either...”

“He killed for fun?”

You nod at Aaron’s question, looking back down to avoid his steel cold stare.

“Okay, that got us much further than we could have gotten by ourselves, thank you Y/n.”

The scary agent says, returning to the victim board and analyzing everything.

-

-

-

-

It’s been hours. You’ve sat in this room for hours and they have nothing else. 

To say you’re tired was an extreme understatement. You’ve gone three days without sleep and another three days without eating. You’re body is screaming at you to go to sleep, to just pass out right then and there, but you know you can’t.

“Y/n, are you alright?”

You nod, staring at the pictures of the dead, mutilated women. You didn’t understand how someone could do this.

“I don’t understand how you guys do this job... Staring at dead bodies all the time... You guys gotta have some sort of super power to be able to stomach this...”

Emily stifles a laugh before setting a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it gently before patting it twice.

“You get over it eventually, but it always haunts you.”

You let out a quiet yawn before closing your eyes and turning away from the board, the dead body sticking on your eyelids.

“Hey, I’m going out to get food, what do you all want?”

JJ says, standing in the doorway as Spencer, Aaron and Emily request their food.

“What do you want Y/n?”

You look up shocked, not expecting the offer of food.

“Umm... I’ll uh... Anything is fine I guess... Thank you.”

She smiles and nods before walking out. You sit down on a chair, your feet screaming hallelujah at the feeling of finally resting.

Spencer sits down next to you, handing you a bottle of water which you accept gratefully.

“You need to sleep, how long has it been since you last slept?”

You let out a chuckle, rubbing your sore eyes.

“I don’t know...Maybe, two, three days?”

Aaron- Hotch, turns to you with furrowed brows and mock concern. 

“You need to rest. Reid, set up a cot for her in an empty office.”

You shake your head with lidded eyes.

“No no, I’m fine I’m-”

You’re cut off by your own yawn. A faint blush creeps up on your cheeks while you rest your head on the table.

“M’ fine.”

The world slowly fades out as they call out your name again, but you’re already out cold.

When you wake up, you’re in a small sleeping bag on the floor, a pillow comforting your head. You’re up in a bolt, looking around warily before remembering what had happened withing the last twenty four hours.

Oh yeah... The FBI is using me..

You walk to the door with a sigh, looking around at the somewhat empty police station, a few officers working the stations, but it’s practically empty.

A blonde woman in colorful clothes walks by, pausing when she sees you.

“You, with me, now.”

She continues speed-walking on after that, and you run after her, following right on her heels.

“The team went out on a wild goose chase after the unsub, I need you and your magic hands to help me get into this guy’s computer, it’s blocked like nothing I’ve seen before, together we should be able to get in.”

You cringe at the thought of hacking, you haven't since the incident, but this woman is in the FBI and you’re pretty sure it’s unwise to disobey her. 

“Yes ma’am.”

She smirks and turns to you, but doesn’t say anything as she leads you into a room with five computers.

“Alright, we have to be quick. This guy is gonna kill again in ten minutes. I have the team on the line, anything you find, anything at all, tell them.”

You nod and sit at one of the two wheely chairs, looking at the database of the killers computer.

“A hash tree data structure, this dude likes things in groups. He has a NoSQL object oriented database and heavy protection on everything, he’s spent a lot of time protecting his files. This isn’t gonna be easy and I’m really rusty.”

You begin typing in every word combo you can think of, typing as fast as possible.

“Just do the best you can.”

Hotchner says over the speaker, you listen, continuing with any word combo you can think of when remembering his face.

Six minutes pass and you and Penelope still have nothing.

“Can I see another picture of him?”

She tosses a file to you, which you yank open, looking at the photo’s of him.

“Try anything star wars related, specifically characters, maybe a villain of the series.”

You tell her before tossing the folder aside and using your own advice.

Finally, you hear that satisfying noise of success from Penelope’s computer.

“We’re in.”

She enter’s the password into the computer you’re manning, which leads you to a killer’s screen.

A mutilated woman is the background, and you flinch away.

“Oh god...”

You click onto google, but it’s no better, every tab is war and chaos and horrible things. Child porn seems to be popular with him.

“Go through his stuff, look for anywhere he might be.”

You ignore all of the destruction on his desk top, clicking through everything before discovering a location.

“Got it! Go to the daycare at the Starrmole mall!”

“Copy that, all units to the Starrmole mall.”

You close the computer tabs, looking away and turning to Penelope.

“We did it my wonder girl!”

You smile as she holds her hand out for a high five, and you happily smack her hand before sitting back.

“Y’know, you would be really helpful around the office, specifically our offices?”

You look at her, shocked. Was she really recommending that you join the FBI? You couldn’t even say the word without spiraling into a tic attack.

“W-what? You... You want me to... To...”

“I think you would be great at it. You could help me out here, You don’t have to go on the field, you and I could do some serious damage together. The job pays fairly well too!”

At seeing your conflicted face, she sighs before setting a hand on your shoulder.

“Just think about it, okay?”

You nod with furrowed brows before the two of you walk out, waiting for the rest of the station to arrive.

It could be a smart Idea, working for the government instead of against it. Plus, you could do what you love again without fear of being locked up, but then again, you would have to get over looking at dead bodies everyday, you had to be ready to see them at any time.

Instead of thinking about it any longer, you direct your focus to something, or someone, else.

How the hell am I not able to read him?

You think to yourself when the image of the young Doctor fills your brain. You didn’t understand how he managed to avoid your reading, but it made you incredibly curious.

“So, what can you tell me about Dr. Reid?”

You ask Penelope with a slight blush on your cheeks. She looks at you, eyes wide and Jaw on the floor.

“Do you like him?”

You shake your head no, you had just met him! Yeah sure, maybe he was cute, but you didn’t like him like that!

“No way! Not like that! I was just confused at why I couldn’t read him! I don’t like him like that!”

“Like who like what?”

You jump in the air at the new voice, the tall Reid apologizing before sitting down across you and Penelope.

“No one! Like no one like nothing!”

You say rather aggressively, making Reid raise his hands in faux surrender, a smile plastered on his face as he laughs.

“Sorry I asked. So are you thinking of joining the Bureau?”

Your head tilts in confusion as you look at him, how the hell did he know that? As if he could hear your thoughts, he gives an answer.

“Garcia forgot to hang up, so we heard the conversation. Well I heard, everyone else shut their devices off, but I was pretty far away so I just turned around and came back.”

You and Penelope nod, but you look away.

“I’m not sure... I just... I spent my entire life running, but you guys found me, and now I’m supposed to join the forces of good and fight crime? I’m just having a difficult time deciding.”

They look at you with an understanding look, they know you’re having a difficult time with all of this, suddenly being pushed to let down all of your walls now. They knew you hated being center of attention.

Damn profilers...

You almost laugh at your thoughts, but you can’t, because the rest of the profilers and the Police just walked in with a serial killer.

“Well, you might want to choose quickly. We leave first thing in the morning. If you want to join the Bureau, I can talk to Hotch about bringing you with us on the jet, if not, we’ll arrange another jet to take you to any city you want, and you can start living there.”

Your mouth hangs open, it was already ten p.m, and you only had until morning to figure this out? Fucking perfect.

“I’ll go talk to Hotch about it. Spencer, give the girl some space to think, alright?”

The two nod at each other before walking off, Garcia going to inform Hotch and Spencer going to talk to the killer.

“This is a fucking mess.”

-

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You’ve spent the entire night thinking your options over, but you were still no closer to a choice than you were four hours ago. 

The night is silent. The entire office is asleep and you’re sipping on a cup of coffee, watching the stars as your debate marches on in your brain.

“Hey.”

It’s a deep voice, Derek, he sits in a chair next to you, plopping an arm on the back of your chair.

“Can’t sleep huh?”

You chuckle.

“That’s an oversimplification. I’m just trying to decide what the hell I’m going to do. If I join you, there are so many good things that’ll come out of it, but if I don’t-”

“You aren’t joining the FBI because you’re scared. You think you’re betraying yourself. I’ll tell you right now you aren’t betraying anyone. This is a chance to help yourself. To try something new. It’s a great job believe it or not, and I think you’ll fit right in with the team. Reid, Garcia, Emily, and I already think you’re great, but if you really don’t want to, nobodies making you okay?”

You nod, tears in your eyes as Derek brings you to a realization. You never even thought of it that way, but it made complete sense. Of course you held back because you didn’t want to betray yourself, you always did everything for your past self.

“Thank you Derek...”

Reid already thinks you’re great.

A smile crawls onto your face at the friendships that could be made. Just imagining working late nights with Dr. Reid made you happy.

“Does... Does Dr. Reid really think I’m great?”

He laughs before standing up and walking away.

That didn’t answer my question...

You think to yourself before returning your gaze to the sky. It was so bright, the stars were so easily seen at night. It was gorgeous, the way that the night sky was illuminated with constellations.

The rest of the night is quiet, you let yourself forget about the debate of the FBI job and you let yourself relax, listening to the hum of quiet jazz playing on the speakers.

When the rest of the police department wakes up, the FBI profilers included, they’re saying goodbye to the team and writing in their files. 

The team walks over to where you sit, looking at the sky as you sip on coffee.

“Well, have you made a decision?”

Hotch asks, you look down and spin around to face them,  glancing at their shoes nervously before speaking.

“Well, I have decided... And my decision is that...”

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A/N: I gotta be honest, I didn't expect that many people to enjoy this story! Just so ya’ll know, Requests are open! If you would like to request a fic for Reid, hotch, morgan, emily, dad!rossi (No romance for rossi, sorry) or any marvel character, just go ahead and ask! Keep me busy guys!

Taglist:

@imsuperawkward @ithinkilovetruecrimetoomuch @l0ve-0f-my-life @hopebaker @spencerreidisbootiful @thatsonezesty13 @nightlygiggless @holybatflapexpert @aberrant-annie @wasabiwitteks

[maxwell-grant]

Having seen your thoughts on his deeply-unpleasant daddy, might I please ask if you have any thoughts on The Gladiator himself, Hugo Danner? (THE SUPERMAN WHO MIGHT HAVE BEEN, if you will).

What would you do if you were the strongest man in the world, the strongest thing in the world, mightier than the machine? He made himself guess answers for that rhetorical query. "I would—I would have won the war. But I did not. I would run the universe single-handed. Literally single-handed. I would scorn the universe and turn it to my own ends. I would be a criminal. I would rip open banks and gut them. I would kill and destroy. I would be a secret, invisible blight. I would set out to stamp crime off the earth; I would be a super-detective, following and summarily punishing every criminal until no one dared to commit a felony. What would I do? What will I do?"

The thing that strikes me about Gladiator is that it almost feels like the book is unfinished. The quality and pace of the book is all over the place, but you can boil it's general story down to "unlucky bastard is born Superman before it's time for Superman to exist, without the necessary support, mindset and structure to become Superman, in a world that neither supports nor accepts the existence Superman, and just as he's about to have the life-changing epiphany that could make him something, he gets struck by lightning and dies in the 2nd-to-last paragraph".

The whole book is like if in the first Spider-Man story Peter Parker just gave up after Uncle Ben died and we never saw him again. It's a superhero/supervillain origin story that gets cut short right as it's about to lead to the birth of the character proper. It's frustrating, yes, but to my scavenger goblin brain that likes to dig through pop culture's trash to find nice forgotten trinkets to polish and make into something new, it also invites a lot of promise, if we get into the question of what could have happened to Hugo Danner if he didn't die on the cusp of his origin story. It's an idea I plan to use for my own pulp writings.

It's not so much whether or not Hugo MIGHT have been Superman, so much as: COULD he be Superman? Maybe, maybe not. I'd argue not, because even with all his power, and even with his parents trying to raise him as best they could, even with Hugo genuinely trying his best to be good and heroic and turn his gifts to mankind, it wasn't gonna pan out. The right pieces weren't there, the family structure wasn't there, the necessary aspects of the origin story weren't there, and ultimately, Hugo Danner wasn't cut for it. He is a failure at everything he tries to be super at.

At college on the football field, he kills a man. As a soldier on the Great War, he slaughters thousands for years, but fails to end the war, despite having been able to do so from the moment he enlisted. He is fired from a steel mill for working too far beyond the abilities of his fellows, and then fired from a bank for freeing a man from a locked safe, because the bank president suspected that Danner planned to use his powers to rob the vault. He tries using his powers to enact social change and fails again and again. He can't even enjoy daily life, because he cannot compete fairly with ordinary people, and because of that he must constantly hold himself in check, never able to fully express himself. And when he's presented with the idea of creating a race of people like him to dominate the world and to “conquer and stamp out all these things to which men of intelligence object,” he finds it ultimately distasteful, because he knows better than to expect good things to come out of his life. And then he curses God and dies. The whole book is one long argument as to why Being Superman Sucks.

He's not the break from tradition that Superman represented, he's a sci-fi superman who met the same tragic ending his predecessors did. In that paragraph above, the very first thing he thinks about, after remarking over his failure to end the war, is thinking about becoming some galactic dictator murdering everyone who steps out of line, before he considers becoming a fascist super-detective. Kind of a damning perspective to present your hero, isn't it? If Gladiator was released today, exactly as is, people would be quick to assume it's an origin story for a Homelander/Plutonian/Omni-Man kind of character. Hugo Danner was a Superman deconstruction before that became a pop culture cliche.

My favorite sections of the book are those that describe Hugo in the war. By far the best-written and most evocative, almost bordering on horror story. And they may be the most damning sections of them all. He never forgives himself for not ending the war when he could, because he's spent all those years killing and toiling away when he was just about the one person who could conceivably leap all the way to Germany and force the war to end. I imagine a lot of pulp heroes who suffered in the war, or any war, and walked out of it with a resolve to protect and do good by others, would be pretty pissed when discovering that, all along, there was this living god among them who actually could have ended the war single-handedly, but was just too damn busy slaughtering his way through fields of people who couldn't possibly fight back, to think about it.

And for all that Hugo says that he hates war and murder and bloodshed, he sure seems like a total natural for it:

Hugo, out of his scarlet fury, had one glimpse of his antagonist's face and person. The glimpse was but a flash. He was a little man—a foot shorter than Hugo. His eyes looked out from under his helmet with a sort of pathetic earnestness. And he was worried, horribly worried, standing there with his rifle lifted and trying to remember the precise technique of what would follow even while he fought back the realization that it was hopeless.

In that split second Hugo felt a human, amazing urge to tell him that it was all right, and that he ought to hold his bayonet a little higher and come forward a bit faster. The image faded back to an enemy. Hugo acted mechanically from the rituals of drill. His own knife flashed. He saw the man's clothes part smoothly from his bowels, where the point had been inserted, up to the gray-green collar. The seam reddened, gushed blood, and a length of intestine slipped out of it.

Hugo stepped over him. He was trembling and nauseated. The bellow of battle returned to Hugo's ears. He pushed back the threatening rifle easily and caught the neck in one hand, crushing it to a wet, sticky handful. So he walked through the trench, a machine that killed quickly and remorselessly

Hugo was learning about war. He thought then that the task which he had set for himself was not altogether to his liking. There should be other and more important things for him to do. He did not like to slaughter individuals. The day passed like a cycle in hell. No change in the personnel except that made by an occasional death. No food. No water. They seemed to be exiled by their countrymen in a pool of fire and famine and destruction.

And then later, after they kill a friend of his

He leaped to the parapet, shaking his fists. "God damn you dirty sons of bitches. I'll make you pay for this. You got him, got him, you bastards! I'll shove your filthy hides down the devil's throat and through his guts". He did not feel the frantic tugging of his fellows. He ran into that bubbling, doom-ridden chaos, waving his arms and shouting maniacal profanities. A dozen times he was knocked down. He bled slowly where fragments had battered him. He crossed over and paused on the German parapet. He was like a being of steel. Barbed wire trailed behind him.

Bayonets rose. Hugo wrenched three knives from their wielders in one wild clutch. His hands went out, snatching and squeezing. That was all. No weapons, no defence. Just—hands. Whatever they caught they crushed flat, and heads fell into those dreadful fingers, sides, legs, arms, bellies. Bayonets slid from his tawny skin, taking his clothes. By and by, except for his shoes, he was naked. His fingers had made a hundred bunches of clotted pulp and then a thousand as he walked swiftly forward in that trench. Ahead of him was a file of green; behind, a clogged row of writhing men. Scarcely did the occupants of each new traverse see him before they were smitten. The wounds he inflicted were monstrous. On he walked, his voice now stilled, his breath sucking and whistling through his teeth, his hands flailing and pinching and spurting red with every contact. No more formidable engine of desolation had been seen by man, no more titanic fury, no swifter and surer death. For thirty minutes he raged through that line. The men thinned. He had crossed the attacking front.

A man dipped in scarlet, nude, dripping, panting. Slowly in that hiatus he wheeled. His lungs thundered to the French. "Come on, you black bastards. I've killed them all. Come on. We'll send them down to hell."

And years later, when he's thinking back to the misery that had been his life:

His deeds frightened men or made them jealous. When he conceived a fine thing, the masses, individually or collectively, transformed it into something cheap. His fort in the forest had been branded a hoax. His effort to send himself through college and to rescue Charlotte from an unpleasant life had ended in vulgar comedy. Even that had been her triumph, her hour, and an incongruous strain of greatness had filtered through her personality rather than his. Now his years in the war were reduced to no grandeur, to a mere outlet for his savage instinct to destroy. After such a life, he reflected, he could no longer visualize himself engaged in any search for a comprehension of real values.

If he could but have ended the war single-handed, it might have been different. But he was not great enough for that. He had been a thousand men, perhaps ten thousand, but he could not be millions. He could not wrap his arms around a continent and squeeze it into submission. There were too many people, and they were too stupid to do more than fear him and hate him. Sitting there, he realized that his naïve faith in himself and the universe had foundered. The war was only another war that future generations would find romantic to contemplate and dull to study. He was only a species of genius who had missed his mark by a cosmic margin.

Even when he's thinking about the places where he went wrong, that he blames himself for, even when's engaged in introspection, his thoughts still gravitate towards violence and hatred, of squeezing continents into submission and of how much the masses are stupid to not appreciate him (because really, all Hugo wants is to be loved and appreciated for what he is), and how unlucky he was to miss his mark.

There's just no place for Hugo Danner. Maybe it was actually rather merciful that he got to have his misery ended briefly by lightning strikes, before he could either turn into something worse, or have his life ruined more throughly.

[fireinmoonshot]

Hi! Thank you so much for writing about The Old Guard! Could you please write something where reader has a panic attack after a Quynh nightmare and Booker helps calm her down?

A/N: This request came in at like... maybe 1:00am last night? I should have been sleeping but I’m terrible. But anyway, this request came in and it took literally everything in my power not to grab my laptop and write this request straight away. The only reason I didn’t was because I really should have been sleeping because I had work in the morning... but it’s written now and writing it made me feel a lot calmer after a long and stressful day at work. I hope that you like it! 

Nightmares weren’t an uncommon thing. You had them more often than you had dreams. When you first died and came back to life, you’d been plagued by them. Even after Andy had come and found you and brought you back to the rest of them. You’d spent several of your first nights in their company waking up trembling, your heart racing, in the middle of the night. They were never about anything important. All just silly, trivial mundane little nightmares.

That was what they always were. Until suddenly, they weren’t.

This time, it wasn’t you that your nightmare was about. It was someone else, and the images flashing through your mind were of the most horrible kind. A woman, trapped in an iron coffin underwater. She screamed and screamed and screamed and then the water overcame her, and death drowned her. Moments passed, and then she would reawaken, just like she’d never died in the first place. Screaming. Always screaming.

The same screams pulled you out of your own sleep.

In the safehouse, there were three bedrooms. Nicky and Joe shared one, you and Andy shared one and Booker had his own. Where Andy was, you didn’t know, but when you woke up, your throat aching from the screams, the room was dark and empty and you suddenly felt as though you were drowning, too.

You scrambled to sit up, kicking the blankets off of your legs in an attempt to free yourself just as the door flew open. You expected Andy to be on the other side, or maybe even Nicky or Joe, considering their room was right opposite yours.

Instead, a frantic and sleepy looking Booker stood in the doorway.

His hair was messy from sleep, dark circles had settled under his eyes and he still looked half asleep. He was holding his gun, clearly having thought that you were in danger, but upon quickly scanning the room and realising that there was no one else there, upon seeing you, he dropped his aim and stepped into the room.

“What was it?” He asked, voice thick with sleep.

“A nightmare,” you managed. “She was– drowning. A woman in– in an iron coffin. She was drowning and she– she–” Your breaths became heavier as the images came to mind again. You felt like you were drowning, too. You couldn’t breathe. Panic overcame you suddenly. One moment you’d thought the nightmare was leaving you, the next it had crashed over you like a wave.

Booker crossed the room instantly and took a seat on your bed, but made a point not to sit too close to you. He recognised what this was. He knew the last thing you needed right now was to feel like you were being crowded. And the nightmare, too, must have had something to do with it. A woman in an iron coffin. Drowning. He knew the stories of Quynh, though he’d never met the woman himself.

“You’re safe,” he said softly. “Nothing can hurt you here. Not with us around. Not with me around. You’re okay. You are.” His words didn’t seem to be helping as much as he hoped they would. But he stayed despite that. You needed his help, or he thought you might, at least. What sort of man would leave someone in their moment of need? “Can you concentrate on your breathing for me? I know you can do it. I’m gonna count to ten. Can you breathe with me?”

He began to count slowly, taking long, deep breaths between each number. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him, and slowly, in time with his counting and his breaths, yours slowed down.

You still felt as if you were going to shatter any second. Fragile as porcelain.

Booker shuffled ever so slightly closer to you after a few minutes of silence. He was worried to overstep, especially so soon after. “What do you need from me?”

“She was– she was like us,” you managed, speaking in a whisper. “The woman in the– under the sea. She kept… she kept drowning and she kept coming back. She– I could feel her dying. I could feel her drowning, Booker.” You met his eyes. “I felt her dying.”

He nodded once, then sighed deeply. “She was one of us. Her name was Quynh. She and Andy… they knew each other. Before I came along,” he explained. Then, he paused. “Are you okay? You didn’t answer my question. What do you need from me?”

“I don’t know.” You shook your head. “Where’s Andy?”

Booker shrugged. “She went out a few hours ago. Not back yet.”

You glanced around the dark room. Every corner seemed as if it were filled with something now, something waiting to pounce out and attack the second Booker left. The last thing you wanted was to be alone right now. With a sigh, you slid back down in bed, head hitting the pillow. Booker took that as his cue to leave and stood.

“Don’t go.” Your words were quiet. “I need you to stay.”

Booker didn’t question it. “Okay.”

“Will you lay beside me? Just until Andy’s back. I don’t… I don’t want to be by myself. The nightmare… it might… it might come back.”

There was no hesitation in Booker as he moved around to the other side of the bed and lay himself down on top of it, beside you. He glanced over at you as you stared up at the ceiling. He worried about you, especially in moments like this. For the longest time, he hadn’t thought that you liked him. He was mistaken.

You reached out a hand and held it up between the two of you.

“Will you hold my hand?” It was the only thing you could think of to anchor yourself to someone else. Hugs were out of the question. You’d just feel like you were drowning like Quynh again. But holding Booker’s hand would keep you firmly rooted in the present if the nightmare crept up on you again.

He didn’t say anything, only reached out and took your hand in his.

Andy returned to the room several hours later, when the morning sun was only just rising and the birds were only just beginning to chirp. She was more than surprised to find Booker sleeping at your side, one hand on his gun, the other hand holding yours.

From that night on, Booker slept at your side, ready to be there for you, no matter what the nightmares held.

[franniebanana]

CQL Rewatch - Ep 14

Hey, I’m getting all my screencaps from Netflix now, because I finally figured out how lol. That means I’m also getting the subtitles from there (and I’ve seen a lot of Netflix haters, but at lease we won’t get “Wei Ying, clam down” and other ridiculous errors). This is just for your reference. I hope the quality of the images will be a little bit better. So I’m both looking forward to and dreading this episode. On the plus side, the first half or so is wangxian, on the downside, the rest is not. And it marks the beginning of the Lan Wangji Drought™, and subsequently my least favorite part in the entire series (not counting the Yi City arc, which, as you may recall, I have not watched yet). But let’s get started, shall we?

We left our heroes in the Xuanyu Cave. Lan Wangji was asleep and Wei Wuxian as being thoughtful and adorable. Now they are both awake and hatching a plan to defeat the Tortoise of Slaughter. Wei Wuxian is talking about the fame and glory that they’ll receive if they defeat it, but on the other hand, if they are killed by the monster, that’s not a bad way to go. Again, even though Lan Wangji’s leg is doing better, even though they survived the first brushes with death with both the Wens and the mythical monster, here they are, about to face death again. But they have no choice, right? It’s either fight the Tortoise of Slaughter or starve. The crux of this whole arc for me is that it changes their relationship forever. You don’t almost die together and not have that change you and the relationship you have with that other person. And I think that’s what makes their reunion after several months so much harder and so much sadder (I’m itching to get to that scene, which is so far from here, ughhh).

Arts and crafts project with bae! Sorry, I couldn’t help myself. I kind of love this scene, though, for what it is: the two of them quietly working together, each with his own task. There’s something kind of domestic about it, even in this dire situation. Also Lan Wangji is doing most of the work. It’s fucking hard to string/unstring a bow.

And when they’re picking up all the bows and arrows, I’m always thinking that the others made such a mess! They just chucked the arrows everywhere, dropped their bows. But why are there so many arrows on the ground? You’d think they’d mostly be in the water, as that’s where the Tortoise of Slaughter was. You know? I’m not gonna think to hard about this.

Imagine that instead of the bowstring, it’s actually one of those sticky hand things that you can swing around and stick to walls.

I spent too much time on that, I’m sorry.

Again, Lan Wangji is reminded that he’s injured and can’t be a ton of help in this situation. And I think he’s bothered by this quite a bit—not because he wants to play hero and save Wei Wuxian, but I think because he doesn’t want Wei Wuxian to bear too great a burden alone. And I think Wei Wuxian is coming from a place of caring and kindness when he points all that out. It’s not as if he wants glory either: he realizes that he is their best chance of survival, and he also knows he can count on Lan Wangji to be there for him.

This smile is so warm, so kind, so loving. Yeah, it is loving. And I do think that this sort of relationship is a big deal in the context of this story. You have two people from different clans, who have vastly different upbringings (although there are similarities with their parents’ deaths), able to come together and genuinely feel friendship for one another. This kind of thing is not that common, seemingly, in this world. It happens, right? It happens for political reasons (sworn brothers, etc.), it happens when there are marriages between clans—but we know that it isn’t common to have this particular kind of friendship, because the script literally pointed it out to us: Xiao Xingchen and Song Lan. They are different—they are close, they are soulmates, even (in a platonic way). And Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji are held up to them as a direct comparison (“Lan Zhan and I went on a night hunt together”). And wangxian isn’t a friendship of convenience—they weren’t forced here together and then they have to tough it out—this was all chosen. And I think this is where the whole “soulmate” conversation becomes important, in that them coming together and forming that bond in the Cloud Recesses was driven by some kind of fate. That initial meeting, those subsequent experiences they had—if those things hadn’t happened, they probably wouldn’t be in this cave together right now. That being said, the fact that they are in this cave together right now is definitely not fate. This was a choice—or a series of choices—made by the two of them. Had there been no friendship or love between these two, Lan Wangji would have left the cave with the others. Maybe Jiang Cheng would have stayed behind, or maybe someone else would have, or possibly no one! I like to think Lan Wangji would have stayed regardless of any feelings he has towards Wei Wuxian, simply because he’s that kind of person. He stands up for Mianmian because it’s the right thing to do, for example. But as things are, it’s important that Lan Wangji stayed because of Wei Wuxian—because of his feelings for him, because of their friendship, because they have this connection to each other. And I think it’s vital that Lan Wangji is the one to first see what the Yin Iron can do to a person, specifically the person he loves.

So I thought this whole little section here was just Wei Wuxian monologuing in his head the first time I watched this. And then he’s suddenly having a conversation with Lan Wangji, and I was like, “huh?” I am pretty sure I had to rewind and rewatch just so I could understand it with the newly-acquired knowledge that Wei Wuxian was actually talking to Lan Wangji. I’m find being a little confused, but would it have killed them to make Lan Wangji say, “Now we can communicate while you’re inside” or something to that extent, after using his little powers?

Anyhow, fuck, it’s horrible in there! I feel like the smell is visceral, even though I’m watching it on my laptop, it’s like I can feel the damp, air, thick with the smell of death and decay. Credit to Xiao Zhan for just really selling me on what it feels like to be in there. Also I’m so curious what they’ve got him walking through. I wish there were some BTS on that scene. I can imagine (because this is how my mind works) how difficult it was to clean his costume after that. Like that crap must have gotten into every tiny little nook and cranny of his shoes, and just YUCK! They were like, “Just throw them out. We have another pair.”

Since Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji are in a sense psychically linked here, does that mean that Lan Wangji can feel the energy that Wei Wuxian feels from the sword? He’s definitely reacting to something going on, but then I think Wei Wuxian talks about it later as if Lan Wangji doesn’t know. The romantic in me says that Lan Wangji is reacting because they are so spiritually connected that he can feel when something is wrong.

And now we have this very long action sequence where Lan Wangji does a lot of flying around and Wei Wuxian clings to that sword like Harry Potter on that bucking broomstick in the first movie. I’m sorry, that’s all I think about, and that thought will never leave my mind. What’s kind of cool is that they remind us immediately that Lan Wangji is still injured, by showing us his bloody leg right at the start of this sequence. So he’s flying around, using everything he’s got left, while still being gravely injured—it shows you just how powerful Lan Wangji is. He’s no weakling.

Another cool detail is that you can actually see the staining on Wei Wuxian’s boots from the muck he was walking around in! Nice continuity!

I can’t help it, anytime Lan Wangji yells out, “Wei Ying!” I melt into a puddle on the floor. There’s something about how little he does talk that when he does, it’s important and meaningful and impactful. And, yes, most of his lines are yelling out Wei Ying’s name, but that doesn’t make it any less meaningful when he does it. Every time he says it, it’s a reminder that there is a strong relationship there. As I’ve said before, even Jiang Cheng doesn’t call him by his given name. This is not just an everyday friendship here—it’s more than that—it’s a bond that can’t be broken even in death. That might sound silly and dramatic, but it doesn’t make it any less true. And that’s why when I hear him say, “Wei Ying!” it draws to the surface all of these other feelings. It’s not just a name, it’s not just a line—it’s something so much more.

Also, I want to point out that as soon as Lan Wangji figures out something is indeed very wrong with Wei Wuxian, he goes into overdrive. His hands are bleeding from the bowstring in his hand, his teeth are gritted, he somehow reaches into himself for even more power to defeat this monster.

Seriously? How dare you interrupt my wangxian scene with this garbage? I could not care less about anything going on in this scene. Just fuck off. The worst cut ever. What a stupid cut.

So, as if the Tortoise of Slaughter wasn’t bad enough, this poor kid (because he is just a kid) is now traumatized by the voices coming out of that sword. The pain, the fear, the negative energy—all of it was coursing through him, and worst of all, perhaps, he was even able to use that energy to defeat the monster. And I think, now that he’s felt it and seen it and used it, there’s really no going back. Dangerous? Yes, it’s dangerous, but it’s also powerful, and it saved their lives.

This part kills me every time, though, no matter how many times I see it. Wei Wuxian is just a husk of the person he was ten minutes ago. Where’s that cocky, smirking smartass? Where’s the Wei Wuxian we all know and love? But the reality is, part of him is lost. And throughout the scene, he’s clutching that sword, as if his life still depended on it. He won’t let that thing go, and I also find that hard to watch. And Lan Wangji here is out of his mind, desperate to help him. He runs into the water so fast, as if there is no leg injury at all. And, of course, that’s adrenaline for you, but it’s also just a testament to his strength and resolve and his willingness to go into a literal hell for Wei Wuxian.

And even in his feverish state, Wei Wuxian can’t help but tease Lan Wangji a little, pointing out that he never expected Second Master Lan to be this concerned about him. But it’s interesting that he uses that formal title there, as if he’s putting distance between them. Wei Wuxian is just Wei Wuxian—Wei Ying—and Lan Wangji is Second Master Lan. Whether it’s intentional or not, he’s drawing attention to this hierarchical difference between them, and I don’t think it’s a self-worth issue at all, because I think Wei Wuxian is okay with who his is—I don’t think he has qualms about that really. It’s more driving home the point of we shouldn’t be this close. Or isn’t it funny that we are this close? And he later draws a parallel to Jiang Cheng (again) by saying that at least Jiang Cheng wouldn’t be a boring companion (EDIT: Okay, he doesn’t say that—maybe in the book?). Ironic, because their stay in Xuanwu cave has been anything but boring. But I also think Jiang Cheng would not have been able to maintain his cool at all in that cave. No, I think that Wei Wuxian needed Lan Wangji to survive. He needed someone a little cold, logical, quick-witted, but desperate.

OMG, ALSO! Can I point out the lovely, beautiful, haunting cello music that’s playing this whole time? Not on the OST, which is a damn shame. So you’ll have to watch the episode to hear it, but it’s just so beautiful.

And pause for the clip show that will also make you cry!

“Wangxian.” Yes, yes, the greatest mystery of this whole series—the name of the song and how Lan Wangji immediately recognized Wei Wuxian in the second episode. So I don’t think they ever actually tell you the name of the song, right? It’s like this fun little thing for the fans of the book, and maybe they couldn’t say it because of censorship (because of what it implies, you know?). I’m not a great lip reader, but it looks like “Wangxian” to me. And if he’s saying something else, I don’t care—it is going to be Wangxian to me, regardless.

Man, this scene, though. I can never really hear the humming because you have to turn up the volume so damn loud, and even then it’s hard to hear. Maybe it’s just me. The first time I watched it, I was like, is he actually humming? I don’t hear anything. I was, again, confused. But anyway, it’s good that we see all those scenes with Lan Wangji, because guess what? You’re not going to see him for three or four episodes, FML. FML. FML.

FML.

Can you tell I’m not excited about these upcoming parts? Honestly it’s so tempting to skip it, but that’s not the point of this rewatch. I likely won’t have a ton to say, though, so maybe I’ll do more than one a week (don’t count on it, though).

Okay, guys. Here we go. If you think Jiang Cheng is a kind, gentle soul with a rough exterior, then you may not want to read the next few episodes. I like Jiang Cheng. I do. However, he is an asshole. A complete and total asshole with the occasional kind word thrown someone’s way. I think he cares about Wei Wuxian, as I’ve said before, but that he cares about himself far more. He is the antithesis to Lan Wangji. And that’s definitely on purpose. So, feel free to send me asks or whatever (and that goes for anyone, by the way—I don’t bite and I like to chat with people), but you’re not going to be able to convince me even that CQL Jiang Cheng is a good guy. I think you could try and read him that way, but you’d be ignoring some key things in his behavior and his character.

All right. Now that that’s out of the way, let’s start anew. It fucking sucks that the first people Wei Wuxian sees upon waking up are Jin Zixuan and Jiang Cheng, both of which essentially scold him immediately, as if he didn’t fucking save their lives back there. I’m sorry, that guy right there—yeah, him—he was read to sacrifice himself to save you. Jin Zixuan, “I didn’t do it for you.” Then why? You did it for Lan Wangji? Or you did it because it would be politically advantageous to you because you were engaged to Jiang Yanli? I’m just saying, be nicer to the man who was willing to die for you, okay?

Oh, my god, as if that weren’t enough, Jiang Cheng actually gets angry that Wei Wuxian doesn’t thank him! And this isn’t some macho guy thing where he just can’t show that he cares about him—this is just who Jiang Cheng is. He thinks of himself first and others second. Period.

So aside from those two being assholes, we do at least get some information here. The clans are now all resolved to fight against the Wen Clan. They all know what’s going on and they’re finally ready to stand up against it. The Cloud Recesses is trashed and Lan Wangji left on his own to go back, presumably to take it back from the Wens. I would have loved a heartfelt scene of them getting out together, but that isn’t even in the book, so CQL isn’t going to add that kind of nice stuff, I guess. But they did add this scene, which is mostly just showcasing that Jin Zixuan and Wei Wuxian still don’t like each other, Jiang Cheng is an asshole, and the world is generally fucked up right now.

A reminder that even though he’s in the bright sunlight, Wei Wuxian still has this darkness. It’s permeated him now. He can’t turn away from it. It’s part of him. And it’s something he can’t really share with anyone else—Lan Wangji to a point, but even he doesn’t get to know everything. However, he is, I think, the only one who would have listened.

Cute detail from the book, that Wei Wuxian had carved this into his headboard. What a romantic lol. I don’t have anything special to say other than, y’know, those two could be both guys.

It’s hard to even know what to say here. So much is going on, so many emotions, so many accusations—and Wei Wuxian is caught up in all of this. Madam Yu starts by chastising him for making trouble when he didn’t need to (she thought it better to let the Jins and Lans handle things, no need for the Jiangs to get involved), and then it spirals into this horrible tirade about Jiang Fengmian being hung up on Wei Wuxian’s mother, and in turn favoring Wei Wuxian over his own son because of it. There is so much jealousy and hatred and guilt wrapped up in all of this, it’s hard to even comment. I can’t imagine growing up the way Jiang Cheng did, feeling second best in everything by someone who’s not even your actual brother, feeling like your own father doesn’t really love you as much as he loves someone else. And now throw in that your father doesn’t love your mother because he had an affair with another woman. I can’t imagine how awful that would be. And despite what people might say, it’s hard to really, truly, break away from your parents, especially in a culture like this. It’s important to honor your parents in everything, so standing up to them is a definite no-no. And Jiang Cheng probably feels like the only parent who really loves him is his mother, even though she is the worst person ever. This doesn’t excuse his behavior, but it does help explain a bit of why he does the things he does to Wei Wuxian. I think he’s itching to feel superior over him, and that he’s been extremely jealous of him for a long, long time.

And then, god, what Wei Wuxian is feeling here! He’s the first one to always take the hit for Jiang Cheng. He’s always going to do whatever he can to make him feel better. He makes the sacrifices. That’s part of who Wei Wuxian is—he’s very selfless and courageous. I also can’t imagine how he feels, to be stuck in the middle of this very personal, very private family argument. The kind of raw emotion that’s on display in this scene is hard for me to watch. It’s awkward, it’s ugly, it’s a dark side to family dynamics that a lot of us thankfully never have to experience. It’s horrible to think that even when Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji were basically awaiting death in that cave, it was quite peaceful, though the landscape was harsh. And now that he’s back in this peaceful setting of Lotus Pier, he’s faced with another monster in the form of his adoptive family.

Of course Wei Wuxian knows that Jiang Fengmian doesn’t love him more—he’s harsher with Jiang Cheng because he’s the heir and he needs to be tougher, he needs to be able to lead this clan. I’m curious if Jiang Fengmian actually did have an affair, but if anything, it was probably emotional. I don’t think that Wei Wuxian is his love child or anything. But at the end of the day, the way I read this is just that the man has trouble being there for his son on an emotional level, and he feels bad for Wei Wuxian and overcompensates for that by giving him more attention. The thing is, while I don’t agree with it, I think he’s harder on his son because Jiang Cheng needs to someday lead. All Wei Wuxian needs to do is support that. And he does. He always supports Jiang Cheng. Always, that is, until Wei Wuxian finally starts to think about what he wants to do with his life, and he doesn’t want to spend it torturing people who don’t deserve it.

The Twin Prides of Yunmeng. It’s a nice idea, but it relies on Wei Wuxian submitting himself to Jiang Cheng at all times for the rest of their lives. It makes Wei Wuxian give up his agency. It makes him give up his dream to do what’s right and always have a clear conscience. If he had followed Jiang Cheng into fire, he would have had to lose himself in the process. So this is a promise that Wei Wuxian could never hope to keep. Although it’s a nice promise, it was said to make Jiang Cheng feel better.

Other episodes: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 |

[antigoneidk]

can you write a blurb about stealing tom’s hoody and then he find s out and think its cute

Green hoodie|t.h.

A/N : thank you so much for your request babyy and sorry for being late but the stuff that are happening in this world right now are unbelievable. I don't want to be boring but we all know that we have to stop this kind of shit some people think they're allowed to do. Is not their job to take a man's life like that.

Warning : fluff,fluff,fluff

_

You spent the other night on your boyfriend's house,after an wonderful date the two of you had. You went bowling,with you winning and him pretending that he actually let you win. Just like teenage boy. Either way you wanted to make him dinner,take care of him and so you did at his place,just like he desired. The dark night found you sleeping in his arms,the moon hitting your face from the huge window.

You woke up at the couch,with a pillow in your arms that smelled like him. You squeezed more before letting a horrible sound come through your mouth. You sat up,stretching. Every bone inside you cracked,leaving you feeling how much of an grandma you were.

A green hoodie was lying at the edge of the couch. You had a prepared speech exclusive for yourself,about how you shouldn't steal any of his hoodies anymore. It wasn't yours,he gave his money to buy it for him,it was big for you-

You grabbed and putted on your body. The warmth and his body smell gave you enough comfort. You wrapped yourself with your hands and closed your eyes and suddenly it felt like he was next to you,hugging you. Even in your imagination,he had the power to wake the butterflies inside you and making the dance all over.

You were now walking towards the kitchen. Two cups of tea were on the table,one of them half empty,probably his. You took the other one in your hands,taking a sip and letting the hot drink warm your throat.

"Babe?"you asked waiting for his answer. Dead silence.

You moved to his bedroom. Maybe he went back to sleep there,not wanting to wake you up. You opened the door slowly and tried to be as quiet as possible. You had a big smile on your face just with his image lying down,sleeping. He was adorable like that. But he wasn't there either. Not even at the bathroom.

"Tom? Where are you?"what if he left? Maybe something came up and he had to leave early? That's why his cup was glad empty. But he could write you a note or even text you. A sad,cold feeling tickled you from head to toe as you were going back to the kitchen.

You finished your tea and decided to leave the house and go back to yours. Probably it was an emergency and he forgot to tell you.

"Call me when you see this. I left" you closed it and drove to your own place.

_

Clothes all over the floor,even in places that they weren't supposed to be. Dishes in the sink,begging you to clean them. Even coffee was spilled at your dinning table. Yes you were the most messiest person you've ever met but this was an whole another level. Immediately started with the coffee stain and then with the dishes.

After a while your phone rang. With soaking hands you checked it.

Babe💞appeared on your screen.

"Finally.Where have you been?"you asked.

"I was with Tessa outside. Why did you leave? I've been looking for you for about 10 minutes"you slapped your forehead with your hand and closed your eyes. You didn't even noticed that the dog wasn't there.

"I thought that something came up and that's why. I was so sleepy to see that Tessa wasn't with me either. I'm sorry"

"You don't have to my love, I just got scared but I saw your message so it's fine.You liked my tea huh?"

"I did yes,I always do"you laughed and heard his laugh from the speaker. The sound you loved the most in this planet.

"Oh..um..I left it here"he stopped and you heard him talk to himself,almost whispering.

"What happened?"you started feeling worried about him.

"My green sweater is missing too. Well it's gonna be somewhere here"you smiled and started playing with his hoodie,resting in one of the chairs now. You didn't want to wet it."Anyway,I'll be there in twenty minutes,I missed you"

"Already?"you giggled"I slept in your arms last night Tom"

"That is the reason why"you felt blushing and you looked down,as he was standing in front of you,not even a ten year old wouldn't act like this.

"I'll be waiting then"you said and looked at the mess behind you. You had to be quick.

"Love you"

"Love you too"you hang up on him and got back to work. He didn't have to see this chaos.

_

You were of how quick you done almost everything. It was definitely better than before and also you felt really motivated and productive. Feelings not so familiar. But that went away fast,as you started feeling exhausted. You sat at the couch and put something to watch. And as you felt like you were about to sleep,your doorbell rang,waking you up.

Tom.

You got up and almost ran to the door,but something green stopped you. You got his sweater in your hands and hid it behind a huge pillow. You didn't want him to find in your place. You thought that he would be upset about it. He was about to find it someday at his closet all of the sudden. Surprise. You ran again and opened the door. Two hands lifted you from the ground getting you inside again.

"Hii"you screamed with a higher voice and hugged his head,pulling into your chest.

"Hello baby"he kissed your lips and the time stopped there. Fairies around you,throwing glitter making this moment magical,just like the others. Every kiss was on your mind,with every detail. His hands around your waist,your feet around his,your stomach making turns inside your body,your heart about to explode.

"What is this?"you turned around looking at his hands,after feeling something scratching your back.

"I bought something to eat. I didn't have time to make anything and I know how lazy you get "he smiled and you felt your feet touching the ground again. You clapped your hands and got back to the room you spent most of your time today,to grab two plates and cups.

"I'm starving"you said looking at the Heaven in front of your eyes as the smells were flying in the air.You sat next to him,his arms around your shoulders and enjoying your food.

"Next time please leave a note"you said and turned to face him.

"I left for 30 minutes. I didn't think you'd leave."

"I thought that something important happened and that you wouldn't be back. That's the reason I left"you took another bite."And don't ask what would happen if Tessa was there. You know I'd take her with me"

"I know I've had to tell you but you were so adorable that it would have been a sin waking you up"he looked at you with a smile on his lips.

"Oh stop"you rolled your eyes at his compliment."you're being silly now"you placed your plate at the little table. He did the same and grabbed your waist,not letting you leave,as you planned.

"I'm not being silly,I'm telling you the truth. You are adorable baby,can't you see it?"he pushed your hair behind your ear"Every time you look at me and I'm melting. I'm falling in love more and more with how amazing you are. From the way you talk and act with other people I can tell that you're special. Even in your bad days you try to make everyone around you happy or even smile. And when I'm sick or not in a good mental state,you look after me and I know you're gonna be there with me to ease the pain. I'm forever grateful from my decisions that led me straight to you"

"And your outside. Your hair,you eyes,your lips,your body everything attracts me. The way you walk,or talk,or even doing something flatters me. My heart skips a beat from the sight of you,whenever you walk towards me and you smile. You're creature that's here to kill me and I love it"his lips met yours one more time. His hand on your cheek,a movement that you adored the most. Your hands playing with his hair and making him moan from his good it made him feel.

"I love you"you whispered to his ear and hugged him tight. He knew hot to cheer you up and make you feel the most loved person. You questioned the universe if you deserved such a lovely soul as his.

But he knew how to ruin romantic moments like these,better than anyone by just starting to tickle you.

His hands crossing your whole body and yours trying to stop him. You laughed loud and without taking any breaths. Your lungs begged for air but he couldn't let you. Tears started running from your eyes and screams from your mouth. He suddenly stopped and you took it as a  opportunity to run away from him. For a moment you thought he was sitting but as you turned around you saw him just an inch behind you. He picked you up once again and throw you back to your previous spot,this time with him on the top of you.

He was now kissing you with lust. Your legs around his torso,pulling him closer. Your hands under his shirt,scratching his back and making him moan to you. His big hands scanning your skin,every inch of it as it was something unique. His tongue fighting with yours,a fight he won everytime. You needed more of him. You needed him.

You tried to throw the huge pillows that decorated your couch to the side. But you forgot something.

"Is that my sweater?"his green hoodie was lying next to your bodies. He took it away and looked down at you. But your red face was hidden by your arms. You felt embarrassed and got scared for his reaction.

"I won't ask again,is that my hoodie y/n?"

You nodded to him. He left the sweater aside and tried to take your hands out of his way. You refused as much as possible,but he was stronger than you,you both knew that. Your face was now exposed and you bit your lower lip nervous.

"Why didn't you tell me you had it?"you couldn't meet his eyes.

"I was about to give it back to you. Well no,I wanted to put it in your closet without you knowing i stole it"you blinked fast."I'm sorry it won't happen again"

"I'm not mad darling,look at me"you didn't. He touched your chin and and then forced you to look him."I actually think it's cute that you wear them. They look good on you and they make you even more beautiful"

"You're not mad?"you asked him.

"Why would I be mad at you?"

"Because I stole it"you laughed nervously and ran your fingers through your hair.

"Put it on"he commanded. You raised your eyebrows without saying a word and following his demands. He took your hand and made his way to your bedroom,standing in front of the mirror.

"See? You look adorable babe. How can I be mad when you look like this?"you met his eyes as his hands hugged your little body from behind.

"I look like a potato in this"you closed your eyes at the feeling of his chest to your back."The only reason I wear them is that I feel you're with me all day. They smell like you"

He kissed your head and you turned around,your hands on his waist.His side smile,woke up your butterflies,starting to fly on your belly.

"You look cute and I want you to wear them all day and night. You can take them whenever you want"you kissed his cheek and giggled."And don't say you're sorry anymore for these kind of stuff.Please"he begged you with puppy eyes. You couldn't resist,it would be a shame.

"I'm sorry,I'll stop"you raised your one eyebrow,before starting kissing him again.

"Where were we?"

____________

Hope you enjoyed and sorry for any mistakess❣

[jungstruly]

Stupid Cupid || 02

< Previous || Next >

You’ve ought to believe that you have a curse when it comes to love after a handful of disastrous dates, but when a certain baseball captain Lucas Wong finally looked your way, you were done with having that curse. The little love God can fuck himself anyways.

Or where in,

Best friend Haechan’s playing cupid and doing cupid’s dirty work behind your back to drive away your potential lovers all because of a pinky promise the both of you shared during high school. It’s only a matter of time until he blows his cover off. Until then, the stupid little cupid’s crazy plan to stop you from falling in love will be his top priority.

Genre || Rom-com, fuff, crack, slice of life, angst in the future, Uni!AU, Baseball!AU, Band!AU

Pairings || Business student /bassist!Donghyuck x Architecture student!Reader x Engineering student/baseball captain!Lucas (A side of Nursing student!Jeno, Business student!Renjun and Engineering student!Hendery)

Word Count || 3.5k

Taglist || @lelenoir​, @nzeeten​, @emvrd​, @badwithten​, @4-sun, @bl--ankhaeji​, @sunhyuck​, @hyuckiesoftie​, @hoshitaro​, @in-my-neofeelings, @chenleschurros, @deuxvous, @renjunluvr119, @neostains, @lovelyvitamin, @melxmay, @cherry-jaemin, @eyypeach, @shotoshortcake, @apollohyucks, @flirtyhyuck, @moonmystv, @princessaecha, @theprincessofuwus, @seungminh0, @dogghawaii3, @shyshybabyy, @jaeveil, @immasoftiee,  @chocolattees​ can’t tag @dlndreamie & @mimika-28 for some odd reason :<

Send an ask or leave a comment if you want to be added in the taglist! 

PART TWO

If there was one thing Donghyuck would wear for the rest of his life, that would be this multi-colored bracelet that you made him during high school. It's like having a small part of you wherever he goes. Along with that part was your good ol' high school years that you spent mostly with him.

You don’t really have that many friends during the first year because of a classroom fiasco that Donghyuck caused, of course. It was homeroom time. He ignored you the moment you flash him your braced teeth. You thought that there was something in your teeth and or your breath was awful. It turns out, Donghyuck was trying to hold his poop back. The smell was horrendous. It was horrible.

You knew that it’s him when he was the only one breaking a sweat in the middle of an air-conditioned room, trying to look calm as everyone panicked. At that moment, you noticed that he’s about to cry. You can’t help but feel sorry for the poor boy. Before the bad turns to worst, you immediately shouted at the class that you were the one who farted and that you had diarrhea because of something you ate last night. Of course, you asked the teacher for your seatmate, Donghyuck, to accompany you to the clinic to cover up for him. 

With a tight smile, she waves both of you off. You were Donghyuck’s tissue dispenser that day. You handed him tissue overhead as you prayed that no one would come in. After that bathroom fiasco that both of you vowed never to talk about again, both of you were inseparable. 

Not even a single girl wanted to be your friend because of that incident. They thought that you have poor hygiene. Along with that, a weird nickname circulated in your batch. You were Y/N-shit-me-not. It was you and Hyuck against the world and you couldn’t pick a perfect partner other than him.    

As a simple token of thank you, you decided to make him a multi-colored bracelet. He found it stupid at first, even scoffing at it as he refused to wear the bracelet for it would ‘ruin his image’ throughout high school (as if it wasn’t already). 

Oh, now the tables have turned. Who would have thought that the college student Donghyuck would appreciate the bracelet even more. It’s as if the bracelet was an extension of his soul. There wasn’t a day that he won’t wear it. The colors faded through time along with the 'FS' letter beads but Donghyuck cherishes it like a limited edition Cartier bracelet. 

One time during baseball practice, he forgot to place it inside his bag. Donghyuck almost flipped the whole field just to find that old bracelet after training. Even though it was ten in the evening on a Saturday night, Jeno, Renjun, and Donghyuck were still searching the place for the missing item. It was the last straw for Renjun when the field’s LED lights turned off, making the two lamp posts on each side of the area the only source of light.

“It’s just a bracelet.” Renjun scratched his mosquito bites tainted arm before hitting his neck to kill the blood-sucking insect. He just wanted to go home and rest after a long day of debate training for the upcoming regionals. “Hyuck, let it go.”

Donghyuck, who was drenched in sweat and still in his white jersey, couldn’t look up from the grass. He shone his cellphone’s flashlight in front of him as he walked to the other side of the field. “You don’t understand. It’s not just a bracelet.” 

Out of frustration, he huffed. He knelt on the grass with his phone, on the other hand, while the other skimmed the grass. “It really means a lot to me.”

“Just buy one or whatever,” Jeno grumbled as he wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. Of course, he was slightly annoyed at his friend. If it wasn’t for Donghyuck’s carelessness, then he won’t still be on school grounds.  

“I can’t,” Donghyuck snapped at them. The humidity of the evening air, along with the insects that bit them made everyone irritable.    

A small pout is evident in Donghyuck’s lips as his eyes softened, throwing both of them an apologetic look. He made sure to shut his mouth this time. It was the least he can do to Jeno and Renjun, who's helping him find his bracelet. He licked his lips as he mumbled. “It’s irreplaceable.”

Donghyuck wouldn’t forgive himself if he lost it. Their search went on for another ten minutes until Renjun’s loud voice broke the silence. 

“I found it!” He raised the faded bracelet above his head. 

“Thank God! Now let’s go.” Jeno went to the bleachers to grab his training bag, completely uninterested with it. He tried to massage the stiff area on his shoulder. 

To say that Donghyuck was about to cry out of happiness was an understatement. He tackled Renjun with a huge bear hug, almost making them lose balance. Donghyuck felt like his chest was about to burst because of too much joy. A laugh of relief left his lips as he tried to grab the bracelet from Renjun’s grasp, only for Renjun to pull it away.

“You owe us a week of good lunch.” He pointed a finger at him, walking to the parking lot so that they can all go home. Like an obedient puppy, he nodded happily. A  soft glint of enthusiasm was evident in his eyes. Renjun shook his head in amusement before he threw the bracelet to Donghyuck. 

“Oh God, I can kiss you right now!” He squealed as he caught the bracelet, looking at it in awe. Donghyuck pulled the bracelet closer to his chest, laughing in relief. A huge grin was painted on his lips as he caught up with Renjun. The bracelet already on his hand, where it truly belongs. “Thank you!”

“Welcome, but please don’t.”

Donghyuck was so close to almost repeating the same mistake twice when he got excited that you were there to watch him train. Your presence gave his ego and serotonin a boost as he beamed with pride inside the field. His eyes caught a glimpse of the faded bracelet on his hand while they were jogging. He can’t help but smile, reminding himself to give you his bracelet later before they start. 

“Hyuck,” as he tied his shoelaces, he heard Jeno beside him. Jeno was resting the metal baseball bat on his shoulder. His other hand held a brown leather mitt along with a ball that he, later on, pushed towards Donghyuck's chest the moment he stood up. “Are you seeing what I’m seeing?”

Donghyuck was about to ask when he saw Lucas’ toned back near the bleachers where you sat. Quick to his feet, he motioned Jeno to go to your direction.

“What are you even trying to do?” Jeno chuckled. He noticed that they were going in the opposite direction from their teammates who were starting to play catch in pairs.

“Just go,” Donghyuck squinted his eyes, motioning Jeno to his left before he gave him a thumbs up. “Whatever you do, don’t hit the ball.”

“What do you mean do-,”

With a huff, he raised his left leg to earn momentum before he threw the ball from where you were seated. Jeno was caught off guard with the speed of the ball, craning his neck to see where it went. With wide eyes, he dropped the bat the moment he saw your body on the grass.  Donghyuck can’t help but let out a sigh of relief, trying his best to fight the smile off as he worriedly ran to you. 

And this is why ladies and gentlemen, you don’t mess with the best pitcher in the team. 

* * *

Lucas snapped his finger in front of you, in an attempt to bring you back to your senses. Your eyes roamed around the people encircling you before it finally rested on Lucas. 

“Y.N?” He tried again.

Your hand went flying to your face as you stifled a laugh. “You know my name?”

He was about to reply when Jeno finally came with a folder along with Donghyuck, who was opening his water bottle. The two boys kneeled on your other side.

“Are you okay? Did it hurt?” Jeno started to fan you using the folder from his school bag. His eyes tried to roam around your body as he inspected you from bruises and scratches. 

“Of course it did,” Donghyuck deadpanned, nearing his water bottle near to your lips. You snickered as you took a small sip. It must’ve been your mind playing tricks on you but you swear that you saw Jeno give Donghyuck an eye-roll.

The baseball team’s coach broke the commotion as soon as he arrived. “Are we going to train or are we going to huddle together here like an army of ants? Get back to your training!”

The whole team scrambled back to the field except for a handful of people. Lucas and Donghyuck lifted you to your feet. You immediately winced when Lucas touched your left wrist. You must admit, he looks extremely dashing be it day or night. Stars dotted the sky but tonight, you'd rather stare and get lost in his eyes.

“Someone accompany her to the clinic.”

Donghyuck saw the golden opportunity. He was about to open his mouth when someone beat him to it.

“I’ll do it!” Hendery exclaimed from the bleachers. His hand swiftly grabbed your belongings from your seat. The boy elbowed Lucas. “I might need Lucas, coach. Y.N seems quite heavy. Ya know, we don’t want another accident to happen, right?”

“I’m not that heavy.” You grumbled with a pout.

“You again Kun-Hang.” The coach’s eyes lingered on Lucas before it went to Jeno with a head shake. “Jeno, why don’t you go wi-”

Donghyuck tried again. “I’ll do it coa-” 

“We’ll be quick. We’ll just drop her.” Hendery argued, elbowing Lucas beside him. “Mr. Captain here will be back in no time, I swear.”

With one last glance to your pale face, the coach sucked in a breath before finally caving in. “Fine, but five laps for Lucas if he took half an hour. Understood?”

“Yes coach!” 

Donghyuck scoffed, witnessing his plans backfire on him. Jeno jogged back to the field with a displeased look. The bracelet on Donghyuck’s hand was still there as he watched everything from afar. 

It’s just a crush. He tried to remind himself. A crush, yet the idea of you walking away from him with another man, made him feel a small tug on his heart. 

* * *

To say that the walk to the clinic was silent and awkward was an understatement. The pain in your wrist along with the fact that you’re with Lucas made your heartbeat race. Your mind turned into a mess as you walk beside him. 

Hendery shook his head, face-palming himself beside Lucas. Sure, the big guy is charming and handsome but behind his front, he’s this shy baby who wears his heart on his sleeve.

Wasting no time, Hendery cleared his throat as he lightly gave a giddy Lucas a small push to you. Hendery's actions only earned a playful glare from him. The two boys had a mini staredown as they tried to communicate with too little to none actions. 

Do something. Hendery’s head tilted to Y.N’s direction.

I don’t know what to do. She smells so good, holy shit.

Stop smelling her and give her a piggyback ride or something. He glared at Lucas who undeniably turned into a love sick puppy around you who's just doing the bare minimum. 

I-I can’t. I think I’ll burst. Wait, how is she so pretty up close? I swear I-

“Y.N, I think Lucas wants to say something to you.” Hendery stopped in his tracks as Lucas’ widened his eyes. It went back to normal when you looked at him as you slowed your pace.

You slowly breathed, making sure to take deep breaths to calm yourself. “I’m all ears.”

“Uhm,” Lucas bit the inside of his cheek, chuckling nervously to himself as he scratched his nape. You can’t help but to look at his muscles with every flex. The white baseball jersey made Lucas incredibly cute in your eyes. A gasp left your lips when he crouched in front of you. His surname along with his number, was painted in black on his jersey’s back.

With a grin, he patted his shoulder. “Hop on,”

“That’s quite nice of you but-”

“The clinic is quite a walk from here, Y.N.” A sudden surge of confidence coursed through Lucas. It’s now or never. 

He flashed you a kind smile. “Trust me. I got you.”

You hesitated for a bit before finally caving in. Besides, Lucas would get in trouble if you take too much of his time. “Fine, just tell Hendery I’m not that heavy.”

Lucas chuckled, lowering himself for your comfort. Your arms warily wrapped on his shoulders as you put your entire weight on him. He gave you a minute to settle down before he slowly stood up. His arms securely hooked on the back of your knees as he started walking. You can’t help but get a whiff of his hair that smelt like faded pomade. It took your entire willpower not to run a hand through it. 

Lucas tried to focus on the path that he was taking. He can’t help but smile, basking with honor and glory as everyone who passed by threw the both of you a jealous look. 

The both of you were in dreamland until Hendery talked once again. “Oh, would you look at that. I have to pick up my sisters.”

He immediately grabbed your canvas bag from his arm, taking ahold of Lucas’ bicep to sling it on him. Hendery shot his best friend a playful wink before he quickly walked in the opposite direction. Lucas was about to open his mouth when you giggled at Hendery. 

“The parking lot is that way.” You pointed at your right before your chest vibrated in laughter. It stopped Lucas from begging Hendery to stay. 

“Ah, right. Of course!” Hendery waved at the both of you before finally going in the right way. 

The walk was silent, of course. You just wished that no one could hear your loud erratic heartbeat as you and Lucas walked on the lamp post illuminated sidewalk of your uni grounds. It was night time already but still, students flocked here and there as they mingle with one another in their respective clubs and organization.

“I didn’t have the chance to introduce myself properly earlier before the ball tragically hit you.” You heard Lucas said which earned a chuckle from you. “I’m Lucas, by the way.”

Your lips curved upward. Thank God he can’t see you and your huge grin. You bit your lip. “I know,”

Lucas almost drops you. His knees turned weak with every step. He was grateful that you couldn’t see his burning cheeks.

“I’m Y.N,”

With a huge grin, he answered shyly. “I know,”

Both of you had the same wide grin plastered on your faces. Nobody talked after that. Surprisingly, you and Lucas enjoyed the comfortable silence. You savored each passing moment of this dreamlike event. Bless that person who threw you the ball. If it wasn’t for him, you might not be with your crush, much more being piggybacked by him. Lucas wished that he walked a bit slower the moment he found himself in front of the clinic door. He carefully set you down, immediately missing your warmth.

“Thank you, really.” You tuck a piece of stray hair behind your ear. 

Lucas gave you a playful salute, handing you your bag. “It’s a pleasure ma’am. Now go inside. It’s already getting cold.”

“I’ll repay you, Lucas Wong.” You waved at him as you went inside the small clinic. “Just wait. Now go be the best baseball captain.”

He let out a chuckle. A permanent smile etched on his face. He was running back to the field when he caught himself stopping. Now or never, Lucas. Now or never. Without hesitation, he went back to the clinic. 

Your wrist was almost done getting bandaged by the nurse, due to sprain,  when you heard a knock on the door. Lucas’ head popped out.

“Hi,” He panted with a smile, licking his plump lips. “Can I borrow your arm for a sec?”

His request made you giggle. You shrug as the nurse finished bandaging your wrist. “Be my guest.”

Lucas excitedly beamed, borrowing a sharpie from the Nurse’s desk before standing in front of you. His fingertips felt like fire on your skin as he grabbed your other hand as if you were porcelain. You gulped at the proximity between both of you. His familiar scent mixed with sweat filled your senses once more. Lucas looked up. His eyes met yours for a second before you tear your eyes away from him, too scared that you’ll stare at his lips like a creep.

“Done,”

Curious with what he wrote, you checked it before shaking your head in laughter. “You do realize that you can save your number in my phone right.”

“I know,” He winked at you before heading to the door, making sure to give you one last glance. “But where’s the romance in that?”

* * *

Donghyuck’s mind was elsewhere during practice. It was running into different directions. Now, when Lucas Wong finally arrived with the broadest grin he’d ever seen. He knew that something happened between both of you.

“You do realize that you can kill her, right?” Jeno gave him an earful once practice ended. He swung his Herschel backpack behind him. A black tee replaced Jeno’s white jersey. The boy pushed his glasses up his nose after keeping up with his annoying contact lens during practice. 

“That small ball alone can cause a concussion. Worse, a ruptured blood vessel! That's a brain hemorrhage Hyuck, a brain fucking hemorrhage!”

Donghyuck spotted Renjun’s car, throwing his bag on the back seat. “But I didn’t.”

Jeno was about to go all out if it wasn’t for Renjun’s car loud honking. With a huff, he opened the front seat's door, making sure to give Donghyuck a glare. Donghyuck couldn’t help but sigh. Panic and guilt wrapped his whole being as he sat silently in the back of Renjun’s white sedan.

“Ice cream or shots?” Renjun excitedly asked, adjusting his rearview mirror only to realize that you weren’t at your usual place. “Where’s Y.N?”

“Clinic,” the boy on the front seat answered with eyes closed, trying to relax.

Renjun’s car immediately drove away from the parking lot without even an explanation coming from Jeno. He went on panic mode, chuckling dryly. “I assume Hyuck has something to do with this. He’s been incredibly quiet.”

Donghyuck sighed in defeat, leaning on his seat with arms crossed. “I know I’m wrong. Alright? I didn’t mean to hit her with the ball. I didn’t even hit her, okay? She just toppled down the bleachers and-”

“If something happens to her. You’re dead Lee.” Renjun warned him. His father mode kicked in as he turned the steering wheel with one hand. “Why the fuck did you even hit her with the ball?”

“Lucas,” Jeno snickered from his seat as he dials your phone. The clinic was just a couple of feet away from them. 

Renjun parked the car in front of the clinic. Upon waiting, he twisted his body to look at Donghyuck. “Hyuck, what the hell! You put her at risk just because of a boy? This is getting out of hand!”

At times like this, Donghyuck chooses to remain silent. His mouth pressed into a thin line as he cuddled closer to his large gray hoodie. 

Renjun scoffed in disbelief, throwing his hands up in frustration. “You’re unbelievable.”

The dense air inside Renjun’s car was a surprise as you sat on the backseat. Your smile faded, looking at everyone’s faces. “I guess three boys didn’t get laid tonight.”

You were about to make a joke when Donghyuck’s arms went to your shoulder, pulling your whole body into a tight embrace. Your face completely mushed on his chest. 

He buried his face on your hair as he mumbled his sincere apology. “I’m an asshole. I’m so sorry Y.N.”

Much to everyone’s surprise, your giggles filled the car. Donghyuck pulled away, inspecting your face with raised brows. You playfully hit his arm. 

“So it was you! You’re the one I should be thanking.” 

“Yes. I’m so so sor- wait, what?”

“I have a sprain but I’m fine.” You raised your injured hand almost excitedly. Donghyuck shrunk on his seat, obviously feeling bad with what he did. Renjun and Jeno’s full attention were on you with worry in their faces. They gave the boy beside you a hard glare. “I’m fine! I swear, I’m fine. It’s just a sprain. I’ll live besides,”

With a squeal, you raised your other hand where Lucas’ messy handwriting came into view. “Lucas Wong gave me his number!”

Well, shit. Donghyuck thought as he tried to squeal with you. 

Now, the match has finally begun.

[fiction-fun]

A Hidden History

Fandom: The Simpsons

Pairings: Monty Burns/Waylon Smithers

Words: 4363

Warnings: Suicide mention, child abuse, spousal abuse

The young woman stood outside of the doors to the large mansion clutching a few files in her hands.

'So many people have told me not to come here, but he deserves to know the truth. That’s all I want, is to share the truth.” She thought before squaring her shoulders and knocking on the large doors.

She heard the quick tip-tap of footsteps coming from the other side and smiled gently. The door swung open and a man with a purple bowtie stood there looking at her.

“Yes? How can I help you?” The man asked.

She took a deep breath and held out her hand, barely managing to keep the files from slipping out of her grasp.

“Hello, I’m Kaleyanna King, I was hoping Mr. Burns could spare a few minutes to hear of an old….uhm…acquaintance of his.” Kaleyanna said trying to word it right.

The man paused before sighing and waving her in.

“I can’t guarantee he’ll meet with you, and I also can’t guarantee that he won’t release the dogs on you, but I will go ask him.” The man said turning away from her.

“Don’t worry, I wore shoes I can run in, I’m well used to dogs being released on me.” Kaleyanna said a small bit of self-hating humor in her tone.

The man paused briefly before continuing on. It took a few minutes before he returned.

“This way, he says you have five minutes from when you enter.” The man said as they walked quickly.

She nodded.

“That’s longer then I thought I’d get.” She responded.

He didn’t reply just pushed open the door.

“Smithers! Who is this?” asked the hunched back form sitting at the desk.

The newly identified Smithers took a breath.

“Kaleyanna sir, the one who is here to share details of an old acquaintance of yours.” Smithers said watching him.

Kaleyanna's face softened seeing the love in Smithers eyes.

“Right, Right. You’ve got five minutes, wow me.” Mr. Burns said sitting up.

Kaleyanna stepped closer placing an old dated picture in front of him.

“I believe you knew her as Celeste and then Galaxy. But that is my Grandmother, Marianna King. Years and years ago she used to dance in clubs, back when that was still a new thing.” Kaleyanna began.

Mr. Burns held the picture delicately in his hands, his face softened slightly at the image.

“Yes, I remember her. It was many years ago.” Mr. Burns said voice soft.

Kaleyanna nodded, not looking away from him to see his reaction, but she still noticed Smithers standing faithfully next to him.

“Yes, well this story is a bit long and winding, so I apologize if it takes a little longer than expected. Anyways, my grandmother only danced in one club, and she had nightly conversations with a charming dark-haired man who she never got the name of.” Kaleyanna said voice soft.

Burns nodded.

“I only knew her as Celeste back then, names weren’t important.” He said filling in a small gap.

Kaleyanna took a breath.

“One night, things went beyond conversation and they shared a passionate night together. Unknowingly that night they created a child, a boy she named Morty.” Kaleyanna paused briefly to set down another old photo along with a copy of a birth certificate.

Burns picked each up to look it over, before returning his attention to her, hand resting gently on the photo of Marianna.

“I fail to see what any of this has to do with me.” He said face turning hard.

Kaleyanna nodded.

“DNA testing wasn’t a thing back then. So, my grandmother not knowing the name of her son’s father, couldn’t do anything about it. She stopped dancing for a few years but when her son turned five, she had no choice but to go back to it. At a different club with a different look and name. Once again, the same man found her but didn’t seem to recognize her, and she never worked up the courage to tell him about their son. After a few months, the two started secretly seeing each other, and once her son turned 25, she thought all was clear. The man and my grandmother spent one more night together, as he was leaving in the morning. And unknowingly created yet another child. Her name was Corina, and she was my mother.” Kaleyanna said setting down a few more documents and photos.

Mr. Burns picked up each one looking it over, allowing Smithers to look as well.

“I still don’t understand, why you’re telling me all of this.” Burns said but his face was slightly more open.

Kaleyanna sighed and nodded pulling three pages out of one of the files.

“When DNA testing was new my grandmother had both my mother and uncle tested just to confirm her suspicions. Then she locked away the findings, hid them deep in a safe. They were written into her will when she passed about ten years ago.” She said laying down the oldest document.

Burns picked it up, and read over it as Smithers looked at her.

“I’m sorry for your loss.” He said voice soft and gentle.

She smiled gently and nodded in thanks.

“We weren’t very close, but it was still rough.” Kaleyanna said by way of return.

Burns sat the paper down.

“How do I know this isn’t falsified?” he asked, face twisting slightly.

Kaleyanna pointed to the stamp.

“That’s the original notary stamp. I have copies for my personal files but I brought the originals for you.” She explained.

Burns nodded and waved for her to continue.

“When my grandmother passed, mother refused to allow me at the will reading, I believe she feared my grandmother would be harsh and wouldn’t leave anything to me although I cannot be certain. I did get a small monetary inheritance from her and a small house in the end. However, I didn’t know about that until recently. My mother died about 5 years ago in a horrible traffic accident, a drunk driver ran her off the road.” Kaleyanna said and laid out the newspaper article, and a copy of her grandmother’s will.

Burns picked up the will and scanned over it before reading the newspaper article.

“My condolences.” He said simply.

Kaleyanna nodded and turned back to her files.

“My uncle never cared who his father was so he never had a second DNA test done, my mother did although I only gained access to the records after receiving a court order to allow me to have the records. My father had me blocked from my mother’s will. My father believed he was doing the right thing, as my mother would have only listed him and I since her brother was already, and still is, in a nursing home, according to the doctors he’s only got a few years left, old age and all. However, my father, 3 years ago succumbed to his depression after my mother died and, he killed himself. Leaving me to take care of my younger sister, Christy.” Kaleyanna said pulling out the second DNA test the nursing home patient record and the news article about her father along with both of their Will’s.

Burns read through them all as Smithers looked at her.

“You still have a few more pages there.” He said drawing Burns eye.

Kaleyanna nodded and opened the last file.

“That’s right, this sad tale of tragedy and loss continues. I was the 5th child of 7 my sister Christy being the 7th and youngest of us all. However, three of my siblings died as children from various things and 2 were either stillborn or miscarried. My little sister is currently attending Yale Law and despite all of the tragedy is pulling a 4.0 GPA. I did do another DNA test as well, perhaps I was beating a dead horse as the saying goes but I wanted to be absolutely certain before I approached you and technology is always getting better. The last line of this tale so far is me telling you that myself and Christy are your granddaughters, and we don’t want anything other than for you to know of our existence.” Kaleyanna finished and handed him the last few pages, detailing her siblings passing and Christy’s success, along with the third and final DNA report.

Burns read over them all before sitting up straight and looking at her.

“You understand my…. hesitance on this.” He said watching her.

Kaleyanna nodded.

“Of course, I do. You’ve got every right to be cautious. You’ve got a lot to protect, but I promise everything I’ve told you Is the truth as I know it to be. And we don’t want anything from you, just letting you know of us.” Kaleyanna said as the papers where shuffled back into the files and left on the desk.

Burns steepled his fingers in thought before turning to Smithers.

“Escort her out. I need a few days to think this over.” Burns said as he pulled the files closer again.

Smithers nodded, moving away from him.

“Of course, sir, this way.” He said turning to her.

Kaleyanna nodded and moved to walk with him. They reached the front door and before he opened it, she placed a hand on his arm, pulling a sheet of paper from her bag she quickly wrote down her number and address, handing it to him.

“In case he wishes to contact me. Or you, as well could. Not many people like him, but spending those few minutes with the two of you, I see how much you both care for each other. Keep caring for him, I feel hardly anyone has in a long time.” Kaleyanna said softly.

Smithers looked at the paper before looking back at her.

“I’ll always care for him, even though he doesn’t seem to feel the same.” Smithers said sadly.

“Don’t forget, acceptance is still something new, and he’s from an older time period. A time when it was easier to lay with the opposite of what you truly wanted. Don’t count him out yet, let him realize his love for you in his own time, besides I can see it in the way he moves.” Kaleyanna said softly.

Smithers watched her.

“You sound like you speak from experience.” Smithers said not really in question.

Kaleyanna sighed softly and nodded.

“My sexuality is still being erased and denied even in the community.” Kaleyanna said voice soft.

Smithers looked at her for a few seconds.

“That’s not right.” He said voice distant.

She nodded.

“That’s the life of a Pansexual though.” She said shrugging.

She looked at her watch and sighed again.

“I’ve kept you to long, I should go. It was lovely to meet you, Mr. Smithers.” She said as she walked out of the house.

Smithers caught her arm and passed a card into it.

“It’s Waylon. And it was nice to meet you too.” He said before closing the door.

She walked to her car and climbed in before looking at the card. On one side was Mr. Burns information and on the other was Waylon’s. She smiled softly and started the car. She drove away from the mansion, with a deep sigh escaping her.

‘Now just to see how it all goes.’ She thought passingly, knowing she had left the biggest secret of all out of her conversation.

After a few minutes she pulled up in her driveway, seeing the other car gone she breathed a sigh of relief and climbed from the car. She walked inside and moved to the kitchen where she began on dinner.

*Two weeks later*

“STOP DESMOND! LEAVE THEM ALONE THEY DIDN’T DO ANYTHING!” the loud frantic voice was heard from outside.

“Smithers, you’d best go see what that is.” Mr. Burns said from the limo.

Waylon Smithers nodded before climbing out and walking to the door where he knocked. The crashing and banging stopped immediately.

“And who the hell is that!” a loud angry voice shouted.

“I... I don’t know, Desmond, let the children go answer it. Please just let them go.” A soft voice said carefully.

A sharp sound was heard followed by a thud and a small scream.

“P-please, Desmond.” The voice came back weaker again.

Smithers raised his hand to knock again.

“Fine! Go you little turds.” The angry voice came again.

Rushed footsteps where heard and the door opened a crack to show a small girl holding a baby and a boy next to her.

“H-hello?” the little girl asked, as a loud slap was heard.

Smithers looked at the children before pushing the door open more, gasping at the sight he saw.

“RUN KIDS!” the desperate voice came screaming from the kitchen.

The two children jumped and went to bolt out of the door, Waylon reached down and grabbed the children carefully.

“Come with me.” He said leading them to the limo.

Once there he helped each child into the back, where Monty Burns sat.

“What is the meaning of this, Smithers?” Burns asked him.

Waylon gave him a look and turned to the second door on the limo, opening it he let out several large dogs.

“Get them!” Waylon called stalking after the dogs.

Monty watched them before turning to the children who watched him fearfully. He looked between them before realizing what was going on. He took the baby from the girl and passed both of the older children Kleenex.

“it’ll be alright children.” Monty said turning to look at the house worry filling his face.

*Inside the house*

“How dare you!” the angry voice called again as the owner reached out and struck the shaking woman on the floor.

Just then growls from the door way made the other person pause.

“And who the hell are you!” the attacker said standing up straight.

“W-Waylon?” came the soft worn voice.

The purple bowtie clad man nodded.

“That’s correct. I am Waylon Smithers and I am your worst nightmare.” He said adjusting his glasses.

The tall grouchy person stood up, fists clenched and took a menacing step forward.

“You and what army, Nerd.” Came the angry hissed tone.

Waylon smiled at that and let out a sharp whistle.

“The dogs. GO GET THEM!” Waylon called as the dogs chased the large imposing figure.

Waylon walked over to the woman, where he crouched to help her up.

“Come then Kaleyanna, let’s get you up and out of here.” Waylon said as he helped her up.

Kaleyanna nodded and leaned heavily against the man as he helped her to the limo. Waylon carefully helped her slide into the backseat across from Monty.

“Mommy!” the little boy said and wrapped his arms around her.

The little girl was quick to follow. Kaleyanna pressed kisses to each of their heads before looking up at Monty, who still held her youngest.

“Thank you.” She said softly.

Monty rose a hand and shook his head.

“You are family.” He said quietly.

She nodded and looked to her children.

“In that case, I’d like you to officially meet your great grandchildren. This is Tori and this is Shane and you hold Cameron.” Kaleyanna said smiling at him.

Monty looked at them all and offered a small smile.

“Let’s go home, Waylon.” Monty said with a soft smile.

“Right away.” Waylon agreed getting into the driver’s seat.

It took a few minutes before they arrived at the mansion. Waylon parked the limo before coming to the back and helping Monty out.

“Sir, perhaps you should give young Cameron back to Kaleyanna.” Smithers suggested when Monty stumbled lightly.

Burns shot him a look before sighing and carefully passing the baby to Kaleyanna. Kaleyanna smiled gently and leaned against the limo as Tori and Shane climbed out carefully.

“Welcome home.” Monty said raising his hands to show the mansion.

The kids gasped and looked around; Kaley carefully reached a hand down to rest on Tori’s shoulder. The young girl looked up at her, and Kaleyanna passed her Cameron, as she swayed. Smithers rushed to her side.

“Let’s get you inside and have the doctors come take a look at the 4 of you.” Waylon said helping her up the steps.

Kaleyanna nodded and watched as the kids and Monty walked ahead of them. After a few moments they settled into a nice sitting room.

“Kids behave ok?” Kaleyanna called voice soft.

Tori and Shane nodded settling onto the carpet and looking around in wonder. Monty gave off a gentle version of his evil laugh.

“They’re children, let them play. Go on, explore! Have fun!” Monty said shooing the children, carefully taking Cameron from Tori.

Both children looked towards Kaleyanna, she smiled gently.

“Alright, just be careful.” Kaleyanna nodded.

The kids stood and raced off. Waylon reentered the living room, looking around before his eyes settled softly on Monty.

“The doctor should arrive in half an hour.” Waylon said.

Monty nodded and slid to the side, leaving room on the couch beside him.

“Excellent, come have a seat.” He said quietly as he marveled over Cameron.

Waylon moved to sit beside Monty and looked over Cameron with him. Kaleyanna smiled softly at the obvious devotion they each held for the other, she allowed her eyes to slip closed knowing her children were completely safe for once.

“Kaleyanna?” A voice called to her a while later.

She blinked open blurry eyes and looked up at the face of Monty.

“Yes?” she asked sitting up a bit.

Monty backed a few steps revealing a doctor waiting patiently.

“We would have let you sleep longer but the doctor is here and your health is more important currently.” Waylon said from beside her.

She nodded and adjusted.

“Of course, thank you.” She said moving to stand.

Her and the doctor moved to a different room, so he could look over her wounds.

“I don’t know how you did it, but that’s the nicest I’ve seen Burns ever.” The doctor said a while later while wrapping her injuries.

She smiled gently and shook her head.

“Have you checked the children?” she asked instead of answering not willing to risk Monty’s reputation.

The doctor sat back and nodded putting his supplies away.

“Yes, and all three are fine, nervous but fine.” He said moving to stand.

Kaleyanna nodded and stood as well, still feeling a bit tired but feeling better overall. The two of them walked back to the living room to see Waylon sitting on the floor playing Malibu Stacy with Tori while Shane sat on the couch with a few comic books, Cameron safely held within Monty’s arms. When they entered Monty stood and passed Cameron to Kaleyanna, who smiled gently and pressed a kissed to the top of the baby’s head.

“What’s the verdict, doctor?” Burns asked looking at him.

The doctor laughed a bit and shook his head.

“A few scrapes and bruises along with a minor sprain in the wrist. The children are just fine, a little skittish I’ve seen but alright.” The doctor replied, handing Burns a piece of paper.

Monty looked over it and nodded.

“Yes, yes anything to make sure my family is as healthy as they can be. You’ll be paid, extra to keep your mouth shut. Now leave.” Monty said turning his back to the doctor, moving to sit beside Shane.

Kaleyanna settled down in a chair and watched over her family, seeing Waylon with Tori made her smile softly. Her eyes shifted and she smiled as she saw Monty helping Shane to read over the comic books, her eyes slid down and she saw Cameron sleeping happily in her arms. She let out a soft sigh and let her eyes close again, letting the peaceful happiness of her family wash over her.

*6 months later*

“Tori! Shane! Your lunches! Have a good day at school I love you both!” Kaleyanna yelped as she raced around helping the kids get ready.

She held Cameron close as she handed the other two their lunches and pressed kisses to their foreheads.

“Bye mom! Bye Momma!” they called running out of the house and towards the bus pickup.

She closed the door and sighed softly. Looking down at Cameron, she smiled gently.

“Now time to feed you my little man.” She smiled as she tickled him lightly.

She walked into the kitchen, seeing Monty still sat and eating. She placed Cameron in the highchair.

“Good morning, Grandfather.” She said wrapping a hug around him as she moved passed.

He reached up and patted her arms.

“Good morning, my dear. Another rushed start today?” he asked looking at her as she prepared a small plate for Cameron.

Kaleyanna laughed and nodded as she took the plate and her coffee to a chair by Cameron.

“Yes well, you know children. Always five more minutes.” She said as she fed Cameron.

Monty watched her for a few seconds.

“You know I could help you out and hire a nanny.” Monty suggested and not for the first time.

Waylon walked in and took a seat beside Monty, who slid the cup of coffee closer to him unconsciously. Kaleyanna shook her head.

“Oh grandfather, I don’t need a nanny. Ten minutes of hectic rushing around with the kids in the morning is the best way for me to wake up.” Kaleyanna said with a smile.

Monty nodded as he slyly slid another scone onto Waylon’s plate. She smiled softly at his actions.

“So, any plans for today?” Waylon asked sending a small smile towards Monty.

Kaleyanna smiled at them.

‘One day they’ll stop dancing around each other.’ Kaleyanna said smiling softly.

She shook her head, looking at them.

“Not today, just spending time with Cameron, maybe reading a few books or working on my degree. I may call and see how Christy is doing. How about you two? Going to the Nuclear power plant?” Kaleyanna said smiling.

Monty nodded his face darkening momentarily.

“Yes, we have a few meetings with some of the staff and a few heads of other power plants. Should prove to be a busy day.” Waylon surmised.

Kaley smiled and played with her coffee cup a bit.

“What is it? You act like you have a question.” Monty said drawing attention to her.

Kaleyanna shrugged and looked up.

“Well you mainly spend your days dealing with disgruntled staff, and trying to figure out how to deal with issues in regards to the crew. Why don’t you have someone to handle that kind of thing for you?” She asked.

Waylon looked from her to Monty and back. While Monty sat back, thinking it over.

“Except that would cost me money and require a new position, with a new salary.” Monty countered.

Kaleyanna leaned forward and nodded.

“True, however if you created the position you could probably find someone to take the position for less than what would normally be acceptable. Just find someone qualified who’s new to the business, and needs a quick job. It’ll be years before they actively ask for any kind of raise and at that point 10 years down the line you could give them a 10 percent raise and it would maybe amount to another dollar at most.” Kaleyanna said tossing a full plan out onto the table.

Monty sat back and steepled his fingers looking at her.

“You make a compelling argument.” He said before standing up and walking from the room.

Waylon watched after him with a surprised look on his face.

“Wow, that’s the first time he’s listened about a new position in years.” He said turning to her.

Kaleyanna smirked and sat back a bit.

“I may not have a mean streak but I am still related to him. Meaning I have his cunning. It also doesn’t hurt my degree is in Psychology and Business, so I have a way with words when it comes to salaries and the like.” Kaleyanna said sipping her coffee.

Waylon looked at her and laughed shaking his head.

“You two are more alike than either of you believe.” Waylon said moving to stand as well.

Kaleyanna nodded and turned to Cameron.

“Not a bad thing at all.” She mused lightly.

*8 years later*

“Tori! Shane! Cameron! Your lunches!” Kaleyanna called as she raced to grab the bags from the kitchen.

She looked around frantically when they weren’t where she left then.

“Relax Kaleyanna, we have them.” Waylon said as he and Monty stood up with the bags.

She breathed a sigh of relief. Each of them held a bag and moved to the front door, a routine well established over the last few years. Each child ran into the room, grabbing a lunch and hugging and kissing their mother and great grandfather’s.

“Bye mom, bye Grandpa’s! Bye, bye mom, see you later Grandpa’s! Later mom, see you Grandpa’s!” the three kids called running out.

The three adults laughed slightly before moving back into the kitchen, and settled down with their coffee.

“So, what’s on the agenda for today?” Monty asked looking at them.

Kaleyanna groaned and pulled her planner to her.

“I have several meetings with Plant staff, including…three with one Homer Simpson of 7G. Why he wants three meetings I have no idea. I think he just wants the donuts in my office.” Kaleyanna said.

Waylon nodded pulling out his own organizer.

“I have no doubt that is the only reason, as for us. We have meetings with several other plant owners and foreign dignitaries in regards to the plant, and then several personal meetings.” Waylon said looking up.

Monty nodded.

“Well it seems all of us will have a long day. What of the children?” He asked.

Kaleyanna smiled.

“All taken care of. Tori has gymnastics with Kira and Kim, and Shane is going over to Dustin and Blake’s to ride bikes and Cameron is going to spend time with Bart and Millhouse. I hope those two don’t corrupt my little Cameron.” Kaleyanna said looking up for a while.

Waylon and Monty nodded in agreement with that. After a few more minutes, the three headed outside and climbed into the limo, heading towards the plant.

[xplrvibes]

A Small Gift

A.N. Hello! I, once again, cannot figure out the read more option, so I apologize for that. Hope you like it!

submitted by @kraken45

(xplrvibes note: omg, this is amazing!  I love this so so much and it just really put a smile on my face and actually made me feel so much better!  it really hit the spot!  the characterization of both boys and their relationship, and Jake’s relationships with them as well, was so perfect! (special shout out for throwing cryptocurrency in there lol)  anyway, everyone read this and give @kraken45 all the kudos! thank you so so so much and ily you for this!)

Colby had just had a really fucking bad day. A bad week, honestly. He couldn’t really pinpoint why. Couldn’t pinpoint when the bad started and when he’d gotten so grumpy. It seemed to kind of melt into his natural state of being this week. And here he is. He’s been sitting in bed for the past three hours, desperately trying to work up the motivation to do anything. He already felt like a failure. He’d slept through his own merch drop, which he had been really excited for. The merch was sick and it was a drop he was really proud of, but he could not get himself to care. He was scaring himself. Why was his mind doing this to him? He was on track to have the best year of his life. Why did he feel like absolute shit for literally no reason? 

He wasn’t the only one to notice either. Jake had promptly told him to “fuck off until he got his head out of his ass” when he’d snapped yesterday. To be fair, he had deserved it. He was being short with the people who didn’t do anything wrong other than exist in the same space as him. That’s why he was holing up at the moment. He didn’t want to snap again. The last thing he wanted was to bother people and bring them down with him. His friends were too good for that. He, however, probably deserved this. He was sure he had done something wrong at some point in time and this was karma coming back to bite him in the ass. Honestly, it very well could have been karma from the killing best friend prank video again. While he and Sam had agreed on it, he had no idea how badly Sam would be affected. He had felt horrible ever since. 

Stop it. He thought to himself. I cannot go down this again. 

Whenever he was alone, he had a tendency to fall into a pit of self-deprecation that took days to climb out of. He would sit and stew and go over the things he’d done wrong in his life and just beat the proverbial shit out of himself until something shook him out of it. That something was usually Sam, but he was away with Kat this weekend. Which, good. Sam and Kat needed an awesome weekend away. There should be nothing stopping them. Colby refused to allow himself to be that thing. Ever, for anyone. Colby needed to learn to be able to pick himself up. He was in his mid-20’s. He should be better than this. Sam wasn’t his mom, and damn it, his mom shouldn’t even be responsible for this. He should be able to be an adult without someone forcing him to be. He felt useless. He felt dependent. He felt alone. How does one feel dependent and alone at the same time? Don’t ask Colby. That’s a fact he can’t figure out either, but it’s how he feels. 

Wringing his fingers together in a nervous tick, he decides to text Jake and apologize for snapping. He really didn’t mean to hurt anyone. It just seemed like he managed to, no matter the circumstance. No wonder he went up in his room all the time. He knew most of the people in his life just tolerated him. They weren’t affected in the slightest whenever he would leave, and he knew that. That’s why he always did. He needed to be alone and no one wanted to be around him, so he left. 

Colby sighs loudly and sinks farther down into his sheets. He closed his eyes and willed himself to find motivation. He’d already let Sam and the label down once today, he needed to not do it again. He willed his legs to move. They didn’t. He willed any feeling that wasn’t this drowning sensation. He pressed his hands against his eyes, hoping the metal chill of his rings would make him feel. It didn’t. All it did was frustrate him. He wanted to cry, but he knew he wouldn’t. Tears never came when he needed them to. He just laid there, stuck in the never-ending spiral of attempting to force a feeling until he got angry he wasn’t feeling it until a series of dings rang through on his phone. 

He sighed again. Just as he’d expected, his manager was ripping into him for not being on time for his merch drop. She said the expected, but then dropped a bombshell at the end and called him unreliable. That stung. He’d always prided himself on being the one to always come through for people. His friends could count on him to hype them up and support them, through thick and thin. He was a rock. He was reliable. Apparently not. He typed out an apology, though he was having a hard time getting his hands to cooperate with his brain. He wanted to tell her he knew. She should just represent Sam and convince him to go solo. He knew he was holding him back. Life would be so much better, for everyone, if he could either get his shit together or get out of the way. His hands trembled as he typed and deleted and retyped and finally just settled on “I’m sorry.” 

She wasn’t going to like that, he was well aware, but there was nothing else he could do. She wasn’t there to listen to his sob story of how he couldn’t get his brain to understand how fucking priviledged he was. She was there to help him sell merch and he was supposed to announce it. He didn’t do it. Well, technically, he did do it, but not the right way. None of the fans cared. He’d been promoting all week and they knew the second Sam dropped something, he would too. But that didn’t make him feel any better. It was just another example of how he relied on Sam to carry him through. Maybe he was unreliable, but Sam made him think he was. 

He really was lucky. Sam was everything he wasn’t, and better at the things he was. Sam was smart, Colby was not. Sam was quick-witted, Colby was not. Sam could maintain a healthy relationship, Colby could not. Any amount of kindness or comedic ability or anything like that Colby had, Sam had it too. Colby could not understand why Sam wanted him around some days. He knew Sam wouldn’t be where he was without Colby, but now that he was here, Colby wondered how much more Sam could do on his own. He wouldn’t have to drag Colby around all of the time and hold him accountable. 

Any other day, Colby would know all of these thoughts were absolute bullshit. He and Sam were friends and that’s what made their content connect with people. Their bond was evident and was in no way one-sided, Sam had told him that plenty of times. There were ample videos on Sam’s personal channel that stated this as fact. Logically, Colby knew that. That didn’t stop these intrusive thoughts from pushing him farther into his sheets.

He felt like he was at war with his own head and he could only play defense. Any sound or word said to him was a hit for the offense and there was nothing he could do about it. Which is why that would be the exact moment two separate texts would ping across his phone screen at the same time. One was from Jake and the other from Sam. Great. Two people he absolutely did not want to interact with right now. He could not handle one more passive-aggressive message that was likely in Jake’s text or expression of disappointment that was likely in Sam’s because the damn offense didn’t need any more ammunition. He gave them enough as it was, so he did the only logical thing and tossed his phone to the other side of his bed and put his pillow over his head. 

Exhaustion rammed into him like a train. He felt stupid, once again, as he had done literally nothing all day. There was no reason to be tired. But, fighting crusade against one’s own amygdala can take it out of someone, so he decided to cut himself some slack and go back to sleep. 

About two hours had passed, which Colby had spent in a restless, anxiety-ridden half-sleep where any slight change in temperature would force him to either curl up or chuck the sheets in a haphazard fashion. He had just reentered his lucid state when a blaring ring brought him fully back into reality. He audibly groaned into his pillow and reached for the phone. His ecstasy in receiving yet another phone call about his missed drop from management was understandably low at best, but he looked at his phone and was surprised to see Sam’s name and picture displayed instead, indicating he wanted to FaceTime. Colby weighed his options. He, in no way, wanted to see Sam right now. Or rather, he didn’t want Sam to see him. Sam knew his habits and these days spent in the anxiety cavern weren’t new, so he would know something was up. On the other hand, if Colby didn’t answer, he would know Colby was either hiding something or sleeping…

Colby hoped he would think he was sleeping as he let the call time out. He felt bad for ignoring Sam, but he’d rather ignore him than worry him while he was out with his girlfriend for some much deserved alone time. Colby wondered what he wanted.

Well, dumbass, if you would have answered you would know. His inner voices were bullying him again. Colby just shook his head and shoved it back between his pillows. He sat there for about ten minutes or so, pressing the fabric into his head, willing himself to go back to sleep so he didn’t have to deal with this reality until that obnoxious ringing shrieked out again. 

“What the fuck?” Colby asked out loud, refusing to look at the phone’s image and declining. He was in even worse shape than a few minutes ago, somehow, and he was not in the mood to talk to anyone. Sam never called twice, so Colby wasn’t concerned it was him and anyone else was not on his priority list at the moment. He went one step further and turned the phone off. Any conversation anyone was going to have with him right now would be unproductive, so he refused to have any. Colby decided sleeping obviously wasn’t working, so he sat up to make a move for the shower. 

He stretched his stiff limbs and slowly rose, his back cracking with every inch higher he stood. Damn, he felt old. He slowly made his way to his dresser and decided old XPLR joggers and a hoodie was good enough. It took an unprecedented amount of time to get those things out of the drawer. Colby felt like he was wading through molasses and any form of movement was met with some invisible resistance that he couldn’t seem to break. In no world should someone as healthy as him get winded from picking out clothes, but that’s what happened. 

Fuck, I need to go outside. He thought to himself. This room could not be helping his mental state, so a walk was the only form of action he could think to take. 

After my shower. He thought again. His actions were interrupted by a small sound on the other side of his room. His head whipped around far too quickly for someone who had no water in their system, and as his eyes refocused and reoriented, he wondered if he’d even actually heard the sound at all. It was so small and tentative he thought he’d made it up. He didn’t hear anything for a solid ten seconds, so he made his way into his bathroom to gather the things he needed to shower. He closed his bathroom door slightly behind him and started looking for his shampoo. His other bottle had just run out, so his head was under the sink when he swore he heard another sound out in his main room. He stopped moving again, listening. There was silence again. Colby swore he was going crazy. He then heard what he recognized as knocking become more frantic as Jake called his name and tried to open his door. He must’ve forgotten to lock it because two seconds later, Jake was bounding into the room at the same time Colby was reentering and they nearly collided. 

“What the fuck, Colby? Are you okay?’ Jake asked, concerned, grabbing Colby’s shoulders and shifting him around to get a good look at Colby’s face.

“Yeah…? Why wouldn’t I be?” Colby questioned back, genuinely confused. Jake gave him a hard look. 

“Why haven’t you come out at all today? Why have you been ignoring calls and texts and shit? You’ve been acting weird all week.” Jake shook Colby lightly, trying to force him to look him in the face. Colby turned his head to the side instead. 

“I know, I’m sorry. I… I don’t really know what’s going on. I’ve felt fucking weird all week, but it’s just been bad the past two days. I felt bad for yelling at you yesterday, so I figured it’d be better if I just stayed away until I figured out what my problem was. I haven’t been able to do that, yet.” Colby chuckled dryly, Jake obviously finding no humor in the words. Jake still didn’t let Colby’s  shoulders go, opting to squeeze them tight instead.

“Brother, you’re all good. We all act up sometimes. I said that in the text you didn’t read,” Colby turned away, embarrassed. Jake shook him again, a sign to look up. Colby did this time. 

“Listen, dude, we’ve all got shit days. We just wanted to make sure there was nothing immediately wrong.”

“We?” Colby asked. Jake rolled his eyes, moving his hands to Colby’s upper arms.

“Sam called me panicking for the last five minutes. He noticed you promoted the merch late and then dropped off Earth for several hours and didn’t answer when he called like four times and was declined three times. And when I told him you weren’t answering me either, he thought you’d had a heart attack or some shit. I told him like 12 times you were fine, but you know how fucking momma bear he gets over you.” Colby cringed slightly. In trying to avoid causing Sam stress, he’d accidentally caused him a hell of a lot more. Colby did know about the random protective hair Sam had for him, he just tended to forget about it as Sam was more aloof than Colby was. Colby was very upfront about his emotions and it’s never been hard to know what he’s feeling, but Sam had always been more neutral. He hid his true feelings well from everyone else, but Colby knew his ticks. 

For example, Colby knew when Sam’s left hand was on his hip and he was leaning on something with his right, he was pissed, even if his voice was level. He knew that a glance to the left at some dude making eyes at Kat was pure jealousy, even with a smile on his face. He knew that if Sam grazed his hand lightly on Colby’s shoulder after he’d just done something dangerous, it meant to never do that shit again, even if he was laughing. Sam was often subtle in his displays of emotion, but that didn’t make those feelings any less real. Which is why Sam actually making Jake go check on him was more concerning. He must’ve really freaked him out. Colby should have known. 

“Damn it. I was trying to do the exact opposite.” Jake tilted his head slightly in acknowledgment, nodding lightly.

“I know, but that shit didn’t work. Call him real quick and tell him your heart’s still pumping. He’ll chill once he knows you’re not dead or actively dying. Then shower because you smell like shit and then play smash with me. I’ve wanted to play all day but you’ve been busy making yourself into soup apparently. Then if you’re lucky, that’s not the only smashing you’ll get tonight.” Jake winked and smacked his ass lightly as he ran out of Colby’s door. Colby cringed and laughed, forever amused by his friend’s ability to make anything sexual. 

Colby lifted his arm and sniffed, wondering if it was really that bad. The room instantly spinning was a good enough answer. He made his way into his room and switched his phone on, dreading the texts and calls he’d receive once it came back on. Sure enough, there were 3 unread messages and three missed calls from Sam. He quickly went to the messages and sent Sam a quick explanation of what happened. Well, he basically said he’d been sleepy all day and turned the phone off in an attempt to go back to sleep, which wasn’t untrue, but not the full truth either. He just wanted Sam to forget about him for the weekend and have fun. Sam did not take the bait. 

“Alright sure,” Sam’s reply read, “you can say that. Listen, brother, I know you’ve been in a weird funk the past few days. That’s why I got so worried when you didn’t answer. I know nothing was happening, really, but you’ve probably been stuck in your own head all week. I fucking hate when you get stuck there and try and get out alone. You’re a strong person, but you can only see things the way your brain will let you. And lemme tell you, that fucker is lying sometimes. I have no clue what’s going on up there, but lemme say this, you’re fine. People like you. People wanna help you when your days are shit. Don’t isolate yourself. Go downstairs and play smash with Jake, he’s been bitching all day. Also shower, you probably smell like ass.” 

Colby cracked a little smile at that. They really did spend too much time together. Another text came in before he could respond.

“Also I swear to God if you try to sit there and say sorry 12000 times I will knock your teeth out through this phone. Just stfu in advance. Threat stands if you ever ignore me again.” Colby laughed out loud this time, as he read over his unsent reply that started with “I’m sorry…” These two really needed to spend more time apart. Or maybe less, if today was any indication of how things would go if they were separated for more than a day. 

Colby replied, “Okay, okay, I got you. I apologize for any inconvenience I may have caused. (Not sorry) but I’m gonna shower and kick Jake’s ass. Nothing will clear a funk quicker than that. Thanks a lot, brother. Really not sure where I’d be without you, so love and appreciate you like always. Snc v the world brother. Now ignore me for the next three days and have fun!! Seeya monday bitch!”

“Cut the mushy shit brother, I ain’t a little bitch like you. I will be happily ignoring your existence until then.” Sam replied, but quickly added “i’m just kidding ily2, please fucking text me if you need something for the love of god. Snc v tw” with a gif of a koala sending a virtual hug attached. 

Colby hearted the gif and sad reacted to the first message as he chuckled to himself and headed towards the shower. Sam knew just what to say, just like always. After he had showered, Colby went downstairs and played at least thirty more rounds of Smash than he’d intended to, and since he and Jake were him and Jake, the loser ended up doing punishments. That’s how he’d ended up with a spatula-shaped bruise on his asscheek and nearly choked to death on his water as he watched Jake Naruto-run into the Traphouse inflatable dog and fully disappear. He hadn’t felt this light all week. He felt like himself again. Thank god. Who knew all he would need is a video game and a text? The rest of the night went about as one could expect with ½ of the Trap boys getting drunk off of White Claws and wine, so one could just describe it as a night of wonderful TikTok content.

As the weekend progressed, Colby felt his motivation return. He reposted plenty of merch orders, which were not affected by his sleeping in, and got a ton of work done. He was actually neck deep in an article about cryptocurrency when Sam’s Tesla pulled into the driveway. Colby didn’t noticed as he continued to read about this strange new currency, when his door flung open and he jumped ten feet out of his chair. 

“Sam, you dick!” He shouted as Sam doubled over, laughing hysterically. “How fucking rude. I haven’t seen you for four days and the first thing you want to do is kill me?” Sam walked over to his desk, still laughing. He wiped a tear from one eye and wrapped his other arm around Colby’s shoulders, bending it and putting Colby into a weak headlock.

“Nah, brother, there are way more interesting ways if I wanted to do that.” Colby snorted, looking up at him in fake offense while trying to pull his arm down.

“I should have known all of those nice words were fake. You just wanted my guard down, you bitch.” Colby joked back as Sam tightened his arm, messing up Colby’s hair with his other hand. 

“You finally fucking caught on, good for you.” Sam patronized as Colby tried to slap his hand out of his hair when Sam suddenly stopped and wrapped both his arms around Colby’s shoulders. “Don’t ever shut me out again. I will break down those damn walls with a sledgehammer if I have to. I fucking love you brother, don’t forget that.” Sam punctuated his statement with a tight squeeze of his arms while Colby smiled wide, leaning his head into Sam’s shoulder. Colby knew his friends had him, through good days and bad. He just needed a reminder sometimes. 

“I love you too, Sam. Expect the exact same.” Colby stated, looking him in the eyes and patting his arms. Sam nodded and squeezed him one last time before letting go and ruffling Colby’s hair again with both hands, completely annihilating any styling that was left after the first assault. He turned on a heel and ran out his door.

“Sam! You ass!”

[picficskpopstyle]

The Truth (Part 13)

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Pt 5) (Pt 6) (Pt 7) (Pt 8) (Pt 8.5)   (Pt 9) (Pt 10)  (Pt 11)  (Pt 12)

A/N: Happy Birthday to me~~~

Group: BTS

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Smut

“___?” Yoongi said lightly, closing your bedroom door behind him. He walked over to your side of the bed and took a seat on the edge.

“___?” he called again, this time shaking you a little. You heard the sound of a bag rustling and you groaned before turning your head enough to look at him. Yoongi looked into your eyes and made a face.

“You look horrible. Worse than yesterday” he said. You rolled your eyes and stretched your arms, immediately regretting it. You were so sore. So sore, in fact, that for the past day or so-- you hadn’t moved much from this very spot. 

You winced as you sat up and sniffled. 

“Good morning” you said groggily. Yoongi gave you a pitying smile and reached over to grab your water from the nightstand. He dug in his bag- the culprit of the rustling from earlier- and pulled out a new box of medicine.

“Courtesy of your delightful pain-in-the-ass of a boyfriend” he said, handing it over. You smiled and took the box from him. 

“Pain in the ass?” you asked, struggling to open the box. Yoongi watched in horror as you nightmarishly fumbled with the box’s flaps. After a few seconds, he took it from you, shaking his head as he opened it easily.

“Yes, since you’ve forbidden him from coming here until he worked out his issues with Namjoon-” Yoongi paused. He dug into his jacket pocket and rolled his eyes before turning the phone around to you. You smiled and took your medicine as Yoongi answered his FaceTime request.

“Yes? What do you need?” Yoongi asked,

“How does she look?” you heard Jungkook say. Yoongi looked from his phone to you and you quickly gave him a thumbs up.

“Much better than before” he lied. There was a pause and you put your water down.

“Yeah? Let me talk to her then” Jungkook said calling his bluff. You closed your eyes and sighed, taking the phone from him.

“I’m feeling much better, Jungkook” you said with false peppiness. The sound of your own voice sent a dull pain throughout your head. Great, yesterday’s headache was back.

“___, you look awful” he said concerned. His image got closer to the phone and you could only assume that he was giving you a good look-over.

“I’ll be over later. Give me...an hour or two” he said. You started shaking your head.

“No, we are taking a little break, remember?” you asked.

“You promised that you would take care of yourself while me and Namjoon worked out our problems. That was almost a week ago and you look ten times worse” he said, frustrated. You tilted your head to the side and sighed. Seeing the determined look on his face, you chose not to fight it. Knowing Jungkook, there was no way that he was going to listen to you after seeing how sick you'd gotten.

"Actually, make it a half hour. I just need to get a few things" Jungkook said. He made a kissing noise before ending the call.

"See? Pain in the ass" Yoongi commented, taking his phone back. Despite the fact that you wanted to stick to your original plan, you were so happy to see Jungkook. Somehow, even with him texting you and convincing you to take his phone calls, a week without him near you was beginning to weigh you down.

"Yeah...he's my pain in the ass though" you grinned before sniffling.

Yoongi rolled his eyes and stood up from the bed. He walked out of your room and you could hear him rustling around in the kitchen. 

To your surprise, when he came back, he wasn't holding a snack. Instead, he held a thermometer out and made a noise, signaling for you to take it.

"So, have they been getting along?" you asked before wedging the device under your tongue. You pressed the little button and waited, looking at Yoongi expectantly.

"I'm not sure honestly. I've been here more than I've been at home. I mean, there aren't any new bruises on them so…" he trailed off. You cut your eyes at him and he shrugged with a smile. The thermometer started being and he reached over to pull it from your mouth.

"At least your fever went down a little" he commented. He set the thermometer on your bedside table and started back out of the room. 

"Go shower. By then, Jungkook will probably be here. I'll see you later" he called to you. Pulling the sheet from your body, you willed yourself out of the bed and did a small stretch. You grabbed a t-shirt and pair of shorts from your drawer before dragging your body to the bathroom. 

You sat your pile of clothes on the counter and looked at your disaster of a face with wide eyes.

"You look...awful" your reflection said. This would be the first time in a long time that you were seeing your boyfriend. There was no way that he was going to see you like this. You dug in the drawer under the sink and pulled out a hair tie. After a few seconds of wrestling, you officially had your hair in a somewhat acceptable bun.

You spent the next few minutes cleaning your teeth, scraping your tongue, and cleansing your face. After popping a moisturizer on, you smiled at your reflection. It wasn't a huge difference, but some life had definitely returned to your face. Going to the shower, you turned the handles and sampled the temperature of the water. Once it was to the perfect temperature, you removed your clothes and stepped in. Almost immediately, the steam from the shower allowed you to breathe from your nose again.

Inhaling deeply through your nose, you smiled and reached for your loofah and shower gel. The smell was dull but for the first time in a week, you were able to smell it. Your shower dragged on a bit longer than usual. Knowing that Jungkook was coming over, you used this time to shave and exfoliate as well.

By the time you were finished, you heard your front door open and close. A grin broke out over your face as you rushed to dry yourself off. You tossed your t-shirt and shorts onto your slightly damp skin and opened the door to your bathroom. As soon as you opened the door, you rushed out in search for him. You found him in the kitchen, setting a big paper bag on the table. 

Your arms flew around his waist, cheek resting against his back.

"Whoa" Jungkook exclaimed with a little laugh. He removed your arms so that he could turn around and immediately pulled you back to him. His lips pressed to your forehead as he took a step back. He brought his face closer to yours and looked you over.

"You don't look as bad in person" he commented with a smile. Sitting back up, Jungkook peeled his jacket off and threw it over the back of the kitchen chair. He pulled his beanie off next and smoothed his hair into place. His hand reached out and lightly felt your neck.

 "You're still a little warm though" he said. He dug into his paper bag and passed you a small bottle of juice. 

"Drink up" he said. You frowned and attempted to pass it back.

"I just brushed my teeth" you complained. Jungkook looked up from the bag and stared at you. After a miniature stare off, he used his hand to gesture drinking and you sighed before twisting the lid off. So bossy.

You took a swig from the juice and felt as your lips puckered into a sour face. Jungkook laughed at you before putting a few things into your refrigerator. You put the juice down on the kitchen table, waiting for your taste buds to calm down.

"You're so dramatic" he smiled. He folded the paper bag and put it away. He leaned against the wall and looked you over, soaking in your appearance. 

"Still sexy. Even when you're sick" he commented. He reached out and pinched the front of your shirt, pulling you to him. He brought his lips down to yours and smirked.

"I've missed you" he said. Your heart did a flip as he kissed you again a bit deeper. His hand slid over the curve of your waist as his tongue licked between your lips. It felt like he’d been gone for so long that your body quickly submitted to him.

You licked your tongue against his and his hands squeezed your sides a bit harder. He reached one hand around and squeezed your ass. Feeling the lack of panty lines, he groaned a little. 

"How long has it been?" he asked, breaking his lips from you. 

"A little over a week" you responded, grabbing his hand. Now wasn't the time for talking. Right now, you could feel yourself getting wet and there was only one thing that could fix that.

You began pulling him to your room and he slapped your ass as you walked. As soon as you got to the bed, Jungkook took over his normal dominant role and yanked you to him. He pulled your shirt over your head and threw it across the room, exposing your breasts. He hooked an arm around your waist and practically tossed you onto the bed. 

He pulled his shirt off before bending down and bringing his lips to your nipple. He swirled his tongue around the little nub and you closed your eyes with a sigh. While it felt good, you silently prayed that he wasn't planning to tease you today. 

Jungkook could practically feel the fever radiating off of your warm skin. He released your nipple and kissed a line down to your stomach. He slid your shorts down as he licked just above your mound.

"Jungkook, please" you complained. 

He smiled and abandoned your shorts around your ankles before sitting up to kiss his lips to yours. As his tongue danced with yours, he slipped his long middle finger between your slit. You moaned into his mouth, feeling the pad of his finger flick over your clit. God, he knew how to handle you. 

He slowly drew circles into your clit as his kiss clouded your brain. Jungkook sunk two fingers into your drooling cunt and groaned at how wet you were. He slowly pumped his fingers in and out of you listening to your desperate moans. His cock was straining against his jeans and while he wanted to free himself, he was far too hypnotized by how sexy you looked. As his fingers slipped in and out of you, his palm lightly grazed your clit. 

"Jungkook~" you moaned, humping against his hand. He sucked his lips back to your nipple, letting you fuck his fingers. He kissed up to your neck and roughly sucked the skin, making you shudder.

His lips inched closer to your earlobe and he moved his hand faster against you. His fingers darted in and out of you, his palm smacking into your clit each time. 

"Oh my God~" you groaned, squeezing your eyes shut. Fuck, he knew just how to play with your body.

"Don't cum yet, baby" he growled into your ear. Despite his request, he didn't slow his pace down in the slightest. You let out a squeak and bit your lip. Don't cum? How were you supposed to do that? 

You could feel your body edging closer to your orgasm and you roughly buried your fingers into the mattress. You were panting at this point, your eyes closed as you tried to keep yourself from cumming.

"Not yet" his deep voice commanded. He slowed down considerably and it felt like a weight was lifted from your shoulders. Jungkook used his free hand to unzip his pants. He pushed them down as far as he could before kicking them off.

He took his hand from your pussy and crawled up your body, settling his naked hips between your legs. You could feel his dick lying right on your slit and you moaned. Humping your hips forward you forced him to rub against your slit. Smirking at your impatient spirit, Jungkook reached between your bodies and grabbed his cock.

He gently rubbed the head over your clit and you groaned.

"Jungkook, fuck me. Please" you begged, looking him in the eyes. Dragging himself over your slit one last time, Jungkook pressed his head right at your opening. You angled your hips just a bit and he pushed his full length into you with a grunt.

"Fuck" he breathed, feeling your walls clamp around him. He grinded his hips into you and grunted again. After a few long, slow strokes, Jungkook found his rhythm and picked up the pace. You hooked one of your legs over his waist and arched your back, letting him pound into you. 

Through half-lidded eyes, you watched Jungkook squeeze his eyes shut and bite his lip. As his pace increased even further, he licked his lips and opened his eyes. 

"Rub your clit" he ordered. You circled your clit as he instructed, goosebumps invading your skin. 

"You're so fucking tight, baby-" Jungkook groaned, slamming into you. You moaned at his dirty mouth and became very aware of your breasts bouncing from his force.

"Faster" he said, referring to your clit. 

"Yes, sir" you blurted out, flicking your fingers faster. Your chest rose and fell quickly and you could practically feel your eyes rolling to the back of your head. Your moans were so loud that you were starting to give yourself a headache.

"It's almost time, baby. Are you ready?" he grunted. Unable to get any words out, you nodded vigorously. Jungkook let out a string of curse words as he snapped his hips into you.

You felt your body tense up and you knew that any second now you were going to cum. 

"Fuck, do it now. Cum now, ____" he said. Your back arched and both of you went stiff as you came together. For a moment, it almost seemed like your room had gone dark as you slowly floated down from your high. Your breathing slowly calmed and Jungkook let his sweaty body flop beside you.

Glancing over to him, you took in the way his chest rose and fell and the smile that was blessing his face. 

"I've missed you so much" he breathed. You laughed and sat up enough to peck his lips.

MASTERLISTS

[fanficflaneuse]

One Day - Part 2

A/N: I was so happy with this I couldn’t wait to post it! I have a few things to say before we start: 

First, thanks for your love and support <3 Every little heart makes me happy. 

Second, and this one is very important, in this series (like Emma, in the movie), the reader is a writer. Now, I can’t write poetry for my life, so I decided to use my writing as a platform for other female poets. Today, my writing features “Hope Is The Thing With Feathers” by Emily Dickinson and “Still I Rise” by Maya Angelou. 

Third, not so fun...for some reason my writing has been disappearing from the tags. Anyone has any idea why does it happen? It makes me very sad :(

But enough of me. Let’s do this! 

Details: 

Draco x reader (she/her pronouns) 

Word count: 1548 

Summary: One day AU. Post-war. Since The Battle of Hogwarts, Draco and y/n meet one day a year.

Masterlist 

3 May, 1999 

After a tortuous year of legal ventures, media scrutiny, tears and more than one headache, the Malfoy family had finally been cleared for good. At first, everyone in charge had intended to use the Malfoy case to set a precedent and appease the grieving wizarding community. They thought it wouldn’t be hard, given that the Malfoys had a lot to be held accountable for. (Y/N) had worked hard all year long. She convinced her friends – namely Harry – to testify. She swayed the jury in their favour and campaigned for a fair trial. She would always volunteer to gather evidence so she was completely sure that nobody was trying to temper with it. It had paid off spectacularly.

By the time Draco had to walk into the ministry for the final verdict, he had already given up. He knew from the get go that they were set up to lose; most people wanted to see him behind bars. Draco only feared for his parents, especially his beautiful mother. This last year he had been haunted by the image of Narcissa Malfoy in Azkaban: hair grey and unruly, teeth yellow, cheekbones sunken, gaze unfocused. He imagined her driven to insanity, a maniacal laugh erupting from her throat. That vision alone was enough to break him.

As he sat in the middle of the room, flanked by his parents, he thought about (Y/N)’s letters. He had spent most of the year under house arrest and she had gone back to retake her Seventh year at Hogwarts, so they could only glance at each other during his court hearings. Their correspondence, however, was a source of comfort for both of them. It had been a bit awkward at first, but (Y/N) would send him masterfully written poems and short stories that took his mind off of the mess his life had turned into. Soon enough, they started confiding in each other. Through letters, they became the best of friends. Her words were his solace, so it didn’t come as a surprise when his mind lingered on the first few verses of the last poem she had written to him:

“Hope” is the thing with feathers -

Kingsley Shacklebolt, the Minister of Magic himself, made his way to the judge’s desk. As he sat down, regal and solemn, the chitchat that surrounded them stopped completely. Draco tried to act calm and collected; he was, after all, a condemned man. To everyone, though, it was evident that something was consuming the blond Slytherin.

That perches in the soul –

The Minister unrolled the parchment that would dictate the Malfoys’ fate. Draco’s gaze frantically searched for (Y/N). She was sitting on the right, sandwiched in between Hermione and Harry. Her hand was grabbing onto Harry’s arm for reassurance. When their eyes met, (Y/N) offered him an encouraging smile. He returned a half smile that was unable to conceal his nerves.

And sings the tune without the words –

Draco tried really hard to concentrate on what Kingsley said, but his mind was jumbled with so many things he couldn’t process all at once. Every bit of sound around him was tuned out, only to be replaced with a deafening noise inside his head. Something dark was pressing his chest, crawling up his throat, filling his head with smoke. He wanted to scream. Draco felt dizzy all of a sudden. He was trying really hard not to make a scene, to keep his breathing steady. It was as if he was pushed all the way back to his Sixth year.

And never stops - at all –

The courtroom blew up in an uproar. He was engulfed in a hug by his mother. As she cried on his shoulder, the smoke in his brain dissipated. He heard the clicking of cameras, the insults and dissatisfied remarks. He heard the applauses, the sighs of relief. It took him a minute to understand what was going on. Still in the embrace, his eyes met with (Y/N)’s. She was staring at him almost adoringly, her head slightly tilted to the side and a pleased smile on her face.

“I told you”, she mouthed.

Draco was still too bewildered to even think of a response, but he smiled back to her. This time it was a whole and genuine smile that took her back to their encounter last year.

                                                           ....

The original plan was to go out and celebrate in muggle London. (Y/N) would go back to Hogwarts the next day, but she wanted to be with Draco tonight. She spent a while deciding what to wear. The rustling of fabrics took her back to the night of the Yule Ball. She smiled softly, thinking how she was ten times more excited now. (Y/N) finally settled on a black fitted dress, a leather jacket and ankle boots. She was about to sit in front of her vanity to put her make up on when Draco appeared in the middle of her room.

It surprised her so much she almost fell from her seat. Draco didn’t look like he was ready to go anywhere. He looked unkempt and tired. He gave her a sorrowful look, which forced her to bolt up from her seat and take him in her arms. Draco collapsed immediately. Sobs ripped off his chest one after the other.

“I-I just…I can’t…”

“It’s okay, Draco,” she offered softly.

“I need your company,” he managed to say.

Draco felt pathetic, but he couldn’t deny being in her arms made things a million times better. He had been cleared by the law, she had saved him. But not even his wondrous cuddle partner could save him from himself, from his self-hatred and the guilt and shame. She couldn’t save him from staring at his left forearm until he felt it burned.

Draco let the tears roll freely, wash away the horrible things inside him. (Y/N) felt her own eyes stinging, but only until their limbs were once again tangled (this time in a sofa by the fireplace) did she let herself weep ever so slightly. Their bodies fit together like two puzzle pieces. Draco’s head rested just above (Y/N)’s breast. He could hear the beating of her heart, which comforted him in more ways than he thought possible. Their legs stretched together and her arms enveloped him. She brought one of her hands to his hair and let her fingertips massage his scalp. Draco bawled until he felt he had no tears left. (Y/N) was so soft and gentle with him that he basked in her caresses.

As she pressed a kiss to his forehead, Draco was invaded with the sense that he didn’t deserve her. He blurted it out loud; with her he had no need to restrain his thoughts. (Y/N) hugged him tighter. She took his left arm and uncovered the mark that marred his milky skin. Draco lifted himself up just enough to search her face. He was expecting to see fear and disgust, but there was none of that. All he saw was the same understanding, same warmth she always seemed to have for him.

As she saw the mark, (Y/N) was, of course, pained. Everything the mark represented had taken away her childhood and adolescence. It was the reason why she had scars and she cried herself to sleep. It was why she was mourning some of her friends and family. She didn’t blame it on Draco, though. He had no choice and he was possibly as broken and scared as she was. She wanted to give him love and support. And so, she surprised even herself when she brought his forearm to her lips and kissed the mark of doom. Draco’s vision got blurry again. He pressed his ear to her heart and hugged (Y/N) as tightly as he could. She returned his embrace fiercely.

“I don’t deserve you, (Y/N/N)” he repeated, his voice muffled.

“It’s not a matter of deserving or not, Dray. And even if it was, you deserve as much love and care as anyone else,” she reminded him.

He sniffled. “Are you sure?”

“Of course.”

“Merlin, I’m so lucky to have you,” he answered.

“As I am to have you,” he could hear the smile in her voice.

They remained silent, an air of contentment engulfing them both.

“Is this how it’s going to work?” he asked, adopting a playful tone.

“What is?”

“Are we going to like…meet once a year to cuddle and cry?”

Draco felt pleased with himself as her chest vibrated with laughter.

“I hope not,” she answered sincerely.

“Me neither, (Y/N/N).”

They went back to their pleasant silence. The crackling of the fire in front of them soothed them both.

“(Y/N)?” he asked, his voice small.

“Hmh?”

“Could…could you read one of your poems to me?”

She smiled softly, her hand still buried in his hair. (Y/N) thought for a second before speaking.

“You may write me down in history,” her voice was soft and tender and to Draco it had a lulling effect.

“With your bitter, twisted lies,”

“You may trod me in the very dirt”

Draco started dozing off. He couldn’t recall the last time he welcomed sleep. He closed his eyes. Somewhere in his dreams, (Y/N)’s last few words resounded:

“But still, like dust, I'll rise”.

Tags: @fandomscombine @okaydraco @naomi02hook

[black-streak]

Waiting for the Worms - Vera

Part 12

Aka, I have no control over myself and SOMEONE on discord maybe urged me on a little. One of these days, one of you are going to ask about the titles for these and I'm going to refuse to answer. Woah, someone remembered that Jason's body was dipped in a crazy pool and he hasn't experienced that before! How fun.

CLOSED beggars: @northernbluetongue @thethirdwheelfriend @shizukiryuu @theatreandcomicfreak @michellemagic @karategirl119 @moonlightstar64 @my-name-is-michell @mystery-5-5 @zalladane @queen-of-the-trash-planet-tm @miraculousdisapointment @dorkus-minimus @jardimazul @allthebooksandcrannies @g-arya @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @persephonescat @mycupisbroken @luciferge @18-fandoms-unite-08 @dawnwave16 @alwaysreblogneverpost @kris-pines04 @mysteriouslyswimmingfan-blo-blog @weird-pale-blonde-person @you-will-never-know-how-i-think @kokotaru @naclychilli @slytherinhquinn @clumsy-owl-4178 @ladybug-182 @darkthunder1589 @evil-elf16 @dast218 @lysslovsanime @emilytopaz @naoryllis @iloontjeboontje @thepeacetea @danielslilangel @finallyaniguana @i-like-fairytail-and-stuff @vixen-uchiha @yuulxd @bleeding-heart-romantic @magic-inthe-stars @st0rmy-w1th1n

~---~

Jason knew those eyes, had been haunted by those eyes for months now. Felt the absolute need to protect them from the horrors of the world without a second thought. And now they were in front of him, real and alive and coming from the face of a young, tan skinned boy with pitch black, course looking hair that fell in a rumpled mess across his face, quietly calling out Marinette's name. The name he spent the better part of three years responding to as though it were his own.  But that didn't make any sense, he'd never met this boy before. How did he know her? Was this a repressed memory of hers that her body somehow stored all this time and was trying to inform him of over time? Was this the work of the fear toxin taking hold and showing Marinette's worst fear? That also made no sense. He'd known her since she was six and she'd never mentioned this boy. It also couldn't explain the simplicity of the sight before her. Nothing fear inducing was actually happening. Except he felt on the edge of a panic attack anyways.

Could it be that his worst fear was this boy because of his reoccurring presence in his nightmares and the idea of this being a real child who's gone through so damn much it reminded him of himself, it scared him half to death? Or the fear that perhaps he had truly gone insane and the dreams were an indication of the war he raged inside himself?

Lifting his hands up to his face to block the images, he took note of the size, the coloration, the scaring. This wasn't how Marinette's hands looked. Those weren't Marinette's arms. Looking down, he knew that he shouldn't sit this tall or be this broad or have that long of legs. Nothing made sense anymore and as the hysteria set in, green edged his vision.

"Marinette? Mari? What's happening?" The voice drew closer, sounding concerned and hinting at the slightest touch of nerves.

"Venomous green. Electric, neon. Like Plagg."

That wasn't his voice, was it? He spoke, but that voice was too deep, too husky and masculine to be right. Nothing was right. This felt wrong and yet exactly as it was meant to all at once and he didn't understand. The bright green closed in on him and he felt himself tremble.

"It's the pits, Marinette. You've dealt with them, remember? You know how to fight it, how to calm yourself," the voice stayed where it was at, but he was sure if he looked up, those haunting jade eyes would be right there, staring into his soul.

How could he calm himself? The nightmares never talked to him like this, never told him to calm himself, to take control. He'd never dealt with the green overtaking his vision, not since the very first dream well over a year ago. He never fought it, what was this kid on about? Why was his mind screaming at him? He wanted to lash out, to hit and fight and attack, but his instincts yelled to protect the child and nothing else was here. Grabbing up another knife, he slammed it down, surprised to see it hit into a cushion that landed under his hand right as he moved. 

"Deep breaths, counts of seven with me," the voice was closer, counting for him and he followed without thought. His thoughts narrowed into the numbers, the screaming dulling down to a soft roar in the background, the green settling down until it disappeared entirely and still the counting continued on until his breathing became his own.

"Back with me?"

"What the fuck is going on?" He hissed out, fear and nausea piling up.

The kid's eyes widened and then narrowed as he backed up, grip tightening on the blade still in his hand. He opened his mouth and hesitated for half a second before he asked, voice demanding and sharp, leaving no room for argument, "Jason?"

Jason reeled back, having not heard that name since the accident, "How do you know that name?"

"She's been going by it for as long as I've known her."

"Who?!"

"Marinette."

His breath caught in his throat, shoulders dropping from their defensive hunch, unable to speak for a moment. He stayed still, processing as the boy across from him moved around the other side of the kitchen counter, swiftly grabbing the knife block and dropping it off on the counter furthest away from Jason.

"How?"

"She told me she woke up in a grave. Had been in there for quite some time. Dug out and landed in a coma for a year. My- Talia found her after she woke up. Took her back to the league and dropped her in the pits. That was about-"

"A year and a half ago."

"Yes… how do you know this?"

"Saw the acid green at night, didn't know what it was."

"She mentioned the connection cutting when she died. I guess the pits could have healed that as well."

"And she met you about nine months ago, then. Or at least something significant happened. I recognize your eyes." 

"I might have approached her around that time, I suppose."

"How old are you?"

"Seven."

"Fuck kid, tell me half of what I saw wasn't real?"

"Depends on what you saw, but I would assume so."

"Fucking hell. And so what, she just up and ran? Took you with her? Mari's alive? Been alive all this time and I didn't know?"

"Something like that," the kid slid closer, carefully prying the knife from his hand. Realizing he still held it, had thrown one at the boy only minutes before, he abruptly let go, letting it clattered onto the counter below where the kid swiped it off and put it with the others out of immediate reach. Tears gathered in the corners of his eyes as he came to terms with Marinette's state of living. Dug herself out of his grave? A coma? Talia. He couldn't wrap his brain around it. If the dreams were all visions, his sweet little soulmate had killed. Had fought for her life so often it felt like routine. Had suffered and lost so much, had seen this child going through the same things and put her foot down. Had ran for her life, kid in tow, no guarantee of survival, while he lived with her parents. No villains to defeat, no league to push him or force his hand. He hadn't even been grateful. Just depressed and angry while she went through a hell ten times as brutal. From the look the kid gave him, she didn't even talk terribly of him like he deserved. Otherwise he was sure the kid would have that knife worked up to his throat by now, demanding her back. Granted he didn't look happy, but his stance wasn't openly hostile yet.

Shit, he didn't deserve her and yet joy spread through him like a whip. She was alive. She was okay and had a little family of her own and had moved on through it all and he felt so damn proud and joyful to know she was alive all this time. Despite the horrible circumstances and atrocities she obviously faced in her time as him, she had been alive and not taken to an early grave. She turned seventeen last week no matter what body she did so in. The Joker hadn't taken her from him despite his best efforts. She was too strong, too persistent and capable. Marinette was alive and the pure happiness that shocked him to his core left him shaking and breathless.

"Calm down, you'll work yourself up again. She never told me you were an emotional mess."

"Shut it, kid. You would freak out if you found out someone you thought dead for three years was alive too."

"Tt. You won't survive a week with the madness."

"The madness? What's that supposed to mean?" Jason felt his hackles rising and had to remind himself of the emotional lockdown from his time fighting Hawkmoth to stamp it down. The kid obviously meant a lot to Mari and he wasn't about to make an enemy of himself.

"The acidic green and screaming in your head I had to talk you down from? That was an aftereffect of being dipped in the Lazarus pit. Marinette has no problem controlling it now. Should have known it wasn't her the second you couldn't force it into submission yourself," the kid gave a haughty sneer, turning his nose up.

"And the first time it struck her? Did she have such control then?"

The boy seemed to wilt at that, looking down in shame, "No."

"What happened?"

"I made a mistake. Someone almost got to me and she lost it. Killed everyone in the vicinity."

"And that was towards the beginning?"

"No. She wasn't allowed in the training room with me until she had the madness locked down. It wasn't even our first mission together. It was my fault she lost control. She would've been fine had I not messed up."

Jason immediately felt bad for chastising the kid for his attitude. He obviously felt uncomfortable looking at a familiar face and yet talking to a virtual stranger.

"Hey, relax kid, I'm sure she doesn't see it that way and wouldn't want you to either. She probably just did what she thought necessary to protect you, even if you don't agree with her methods. Trust me, I'm familiar with them," he offered with a self deprecating chuckle.

The boy seemed to soften, looking at him with curious eyes, "You really are her soulmate," he stated, almost coming off as a tease, "It's Damian by the way."

"Huh?"

"You've been calling me kid for the last half hour. My name is Damian."

"Whatever, kid," he smirked as Damian's lips twisted in annoyance, "Wait, did you say half hour?"

"It took a while to calm you down," he shrugged.

Suddenly it hit Jason where he had been. What had been happening that sent him into that panic.

"Fuck!"

The kid startled, looking at him like he lost his rocker, which okay, that was fair.

"What now?"

"The place I was at. It got attacked when we switched. She had to have taken in some fear toxin, who knows what type of effect that has on her!"

"Attacked? She'll be fine, Marinette's the beat fighter I know," Damian seemed to calm at that, almost offended at his inferring her inability to handle the situation.

"Was she exposed to fear toxin in the league?"

"Fear toxin? I'm not sure what that is, but her immune system was adapted to handle several poisons. Every league members' is."

"You mean this body was. This body's immune system was adapted."

That seemed to throw him for a loop, stiffening up, but he persisted, "Her mind has taken on the chaos of the pit, surely fear pulsing through as well couldn't be worse."

"As well! Her soul was in that pit, not just this body. Meaning the madness probably latched on to her soul as well. In an unadjusted body, with the jolt and panic of being launched into her old body in the middle of an attack with fear toxin coursing through it."

The air about Damian seemingly crashed around him and the small shoulders begin to shake as reality settled in, "she's going to lose herself again, isn't she?" He half whimpered, trying to push it down to sound less weak infront of Jason, but he was obviously afraid. Jason flinched, remembering the kid's age once more and that he probably should have just agreed to keep him calm. 

"We'll track her down. You can ground her, you're good at that, right?"

He nodded, "Can't you just switch back, instead? Give Marinette back?"

"It doesn't work that way kid. You can resist the tug when it comes, but you can't force the tug itself."

"Give her back! She's probably a mess right now, I need to help her!"

"I can't, kid. I'm sorry. We'll find her though, I promise. I know where she is. Where are we? The faster I can map out a route, the sooner you'll be with her. Tell me and then get changed, we'll leave now."

As the kid ran to what was presumably his room, rambling out an address, Jason was surprised to realize how close they were. Marinette lived in Gotham. He shouldn't feel so surprised.

He forced himself to the other room, rummaging through a drawer until he found clothes to shove on and walked towards the door, Damian running up behind him. As his hand touched the doorknob, his mind yanked him back and without any warning, he was thrown into Marinette's body once more.