#idk i have to figure out the latter half of this fic still so maybe I'll work things out

[desperatepleasures]

ugh I have chores to do but what I really need to do is lay down and think about harukan for at least 4hrs while listening to labrador by aimee mann on repeat

[starseungs]

to love you like the snow melts. ksm.

kim seungmin x gn!reader — if seungmin wanted to be loved like a planet being discovered, he wanted to love you like the snow melted during the cusp of spring.

GENRE/S — fluff, maybe kinda emotional (or is that just me), slight college au mentioned in passing, he fell first trope • 1.1k words

WARNING/S — nothing really unless you're not into lovesick pining, story told in seungmin's pov, slightly unedited cz idk

( ✒️ ) happy seungmin day !! i think i dissociated while writing this fic cause man... i barely remember shit 😭 i originally had a plan going into writing this but it just got thrown out the window by my brain apparently (also this fic is inspired by one of the results in this quiz cause i loved the prompt i got so much) this fic is a bit short but i hope yall like it <3

2024 ⓒ starseungs on tumblr. do not steal, repost, or edit.

Seungmin’s eyes love to rest on you. 

That was an undoubtable fact in his life—one that he, himself, doesn’t even know how it started. Yet, the acknowledgement of this unknown didn’t bother him at all. If anything, it was a source of comfort for him; a way of reminding himself of the joy in living. To Seungmin, one thing was for certain: He was given the gift of sight to experience you in your entire beauty.

He first met you in a university lecture, where you simply happened to frequent the seat just a row behind and two chairs away from where he usually sat. Perhaps he was enamored from the very beginning. It was like his gaze would always find a way back to you whenever you were in his immediate vicinity, reminiscent of a magnet longing to cling to metal.

That was also the way he took in your presence as a whole. Seungmin was a man starved for knowledge, desperately clawing for anything he could get to broaden his desired expertise that was you. He particularly loved the way your eyes drooped whenever the lecture of the day bore you, as well as your tendency to make origami on available paper during the times you could care less to listen. The latter always ended up with you blinking endearingly after a successful craft, glancing around the people near you to figure out who to present it to.

Oh, how he wished he had been over there instead, happily receiving a paper star to keep. However, it was your friends that surrounded you on a daily, barely giving you time to be alone. And maybe you didn’t want to be alone—another thing about you that he’d like to discover the truth to. But he thought that until the day he somehow found himself stumbling into your life, he’d have to be grateful to your friends for making you shine the way you deserved every step of the way.

So, imagine his surprise when he finally got the chance to make a mark in the vast expanse of your world.

The opportunity came in the form of a group project with you; the catalyst in which his whole life began to change. Friendly introductions of obligation quickly turned into incessant strings of conversation, bringing the two of you closer. The sheer pace of the development was overwhelming. Seungmin never thought his presence bore enough weight for gravity to grab him by the neck and lock him in the system of the star that was you. 

It was a trip and a half, consisting of countless miles to lap around with seemingly no end. So much, that he feared falling out of your grace—to be like a passing asteroid who foolishly dreamt of becoming a planet. Seungmin was endlessly yearning to solidify his place in your world, just like he always wanted. And still, despite that all, he didn’t show it. He merely laughed when you laughed, stayed silent when you needed silence, and experienced anger on your behalf when you couldn’t show it for yourself. 

Because Kim Seungmin knew that you needed to be loved patiently.

Even throughout the tightrope of uncertainty he walked months on like his life depended on it, he never once made it seem like he was waiting on a move from you. If Seungmin wanted to be loved like a planet being discovered, he wanted to love you like the snow melted during the cusp of spring. 

Seungmin knew that even with the shows of your cheery demeanor, your heart still remained frosted over from your previous winters. That even when your fingers danced their way to intertwine with his, there was still that moment of hesitation. He was forever thankful that you caught him from falling when he did, refusing to let him disappear into the abyss. Yet, who was lighting up the skies of which you lay under to stare at each day?

He longed to give you a love that was true. One where he showed you how warmth creeped in with small trickles of heat, giving you enough time to decide whether you truly wanted it or not. Love that was considerate in the way that it willingly warned you of its presence, but in a way that cupped your cheeks and sang you lullabies. To love you gently as to not sully your shoes with messy, muddy soil of the ground peeking out from beneath the snow. 

To Seungmin, there was no greater gift than being able to be the sign of your spring.

“Baby?” You called out to him softly, a flash of concern twinkling behind your gaze. “Is anything wrong?”

Seungmin feels like he was just coaxed out of a trance, previously being too occupied studying the details of you at the moment, as if he hadn’t already spent the past hour doing just that. A string of golden celebration banners made its presence known in the corner of his eye, briefly acknowledging the once-a-year greeting printed on them. The slight smell of smoke fully brought him back to his senses, finally glancing down towards the cake with a small lit-up candle you were presenting him.

Right. It was his birthday today.

He chuckles, shaking his head. “No,” he replies truthfully. “Everything is perfect.” Your eyebrows scrunched in confusion, having trouble making sense of the situation. Seungmin has half a mind to think if you would forgive him if he tried to straighten it out with his thumbs as a tease.

“But, you’re not blowing out your candles,” you purse your lips in contemplation. He feels an unstoppable force creeping up to turn the corners of his mouth upwards. Did you even know just how much he loves you?

“I was just enjoying the view, that’s all.”

Your demeanor visibly brightens up. “Is the cake that pretty?” Was your smug question, clearly feeling proud of yourself. “I worked hard on that, you know?” 

Seungmin only smiles. Like he always does whenever it concerns you. That warm boyish grin he had paired with a certain fond look in his eyes that his friends never failed to point out just to fluster him into oblivion. But he lets them anyway. There was no way he could ever deny the truth of how strongly he felt for you.

“I know.” 

Because he always does. 

And as he leaned forward to feel the last heat of the flickering candle before it went out, he couldn’t help but think that the snow had finally melted. His wish had already come true.

“Happy birthday, Seungmin!”

Spring has come.

MASTERTAG ━ STATUS: OPEN — ASK OR COMMENT 🫶

@fairyki @hysgf @euncsace @comet-falls @starlostseungmin @ameliesaysshoo @hyunverse @wnbnny @xocandyy @minluvly @moon0fthenight @estellaluna @hanjsquokka @starlostastronaut @minsueng @l3visbby @myjisung @thecutiepieme @yaniiiiism

[olderthannetfic]

Been getting back into Star Trek after binge-watching it with my dad as a kid, and stumbled across the - ahem - "encounter" between Data and the Borg queen in Star Trek: First Contact. (I really didn't remember those scenes like this lmao.)

Soo, being a Data fan who does find him very aesthetically pleasing, I went to look for shippy fanfics involving those characters, and I gotta say, I was really surprised to find a total of 3 fanfics on AO3 that have their tag, and also just a few on FFnet, and none on a fanfic site in my language (then again searching stuff there is a fucking nightmare because people really aren't too great at tagging stuff accurately).

I hope this doesn't come across as whiny and complain-y, I will probably write about them at some point, once I'm past starting a new semester at university and have more time.

Basically just came here to say that I am quite surprised that there are such few fanfics about them (or that I'm just too stupid to find more, which is very likely lol), since they're technically temporarily canon, and I wonder if it's just because of the context and its kinda sorta dubious consent or if it just happens to not be on that many people's minds and there not being too many people who like the ship enough to write about it. (I am guessing the latter, since I also don't write about stuff that I don't think about heh.)

(Then again, I do tend to ship rarepairs and often pairs that are considered problematic for whatever reason, and where shippers get shit for shipping and writing fanfics. Though I don't know if this particular pairing is considered terribly problematic or not. Have read youtube comments on their scenes, and many people there absolutely despised their scenes and found it disgusting that there weren't more comments saying the scenes were disgusting lol. Also, kinda unrelated, but one of my favourite ships is Hotch/Reid from Criminal Minds, and I just recently read that there are quite some people on reddit who hate that ship because "bla healthy father figure bla - he's his dad not his daddy - bla" and use nasty words to describe shippers, but I am very glad that there are lots of fun fanfics for these two nonetheless, ha! :D)

Sorry for babbling for so long, it's half past one, and I should stop rambling at your inbox and get some sleep. Have a nice day/night!

--

Ahahaha. No, it being problematic is not why.

It's far, far more likely there's none (or none that's easily findable) because the bulk of the fandom activity around TNG was around later seasons of the show. Maybe the Riker/Troi and Crusher/Picard shippers were more into early seasons, IDK. But a sequel movie that lots of people didn't even like or didn't even see is not going to be the source of the big ships in a TV fandom.

On top of that, a lot of the shipping patterns get set relatively early in a fandom. Sometimes, a character shows up later and changes the fandom a lot (Methos, Castiel), but often, many fans stick with how they saw things towards the beginning of canon.

Adding to that is the fact that the number of fic writers in 1996 was vastly smaller than now. Spaces also weren't always set up to accommodate rarepairs or rare fandoms. A lot of archives and lists were topic-specific, and that topic could be one single juggernaut ship.

If there was fic, I suppose it was probably on Usenet or a mailing list. The great era of fannish archives was in the 00s. This movie came out in 1996. Perhaps we even grabbed a relevant list in our attempts to save yahoo groups' data, but it's definitely not going to still be up with an easily googleable set of contents.

[perhapsthanatos]

10:32 pm with yuta ♡

nct’s yuta x fem!reader (got inspired by a dream of mine & found the idea really cute)

alternate title: be the james dean to my audrey hepburn

genre: fluff. a pinch of angst. non idol au. badboy!yuta au.

word count: 1400~

playlist: chinatown by wild nothing, lover’s rock by tv girl & work this time by king gizzard and the lizard wizard.

warnings: featuring johnny (not a warning though). smoking cigarettes. cursing. lowercase intended. not proofread.

a/n: hi i was supposed to post a vampire!haechan fic but i really wasnt happy w it in general :( the plot or overall idea of the fic was really good, but i just felt as if i didnt do it justice so here we are :( but ngl, i kind of like this concept more? maybe bc i can see it more vividly? idk, i feel like my writings r getting repetitive & its getting on my nerves lmaoo this is getting long im sorry do u guys even read this part anyway? i would also like to apologize abt the amount of projecting im doing lmao ive been having some rough days & i love my sister but hate being compared to her so often so this is a way for me to rant abt it ig? also so sorry its coming out a little later bc i woke up late today (& procrastinated for the rest of it so here i am posting really late at night) & decided to go to the convenience store to get ice cream (& a ton of other bad shit pls dont do this its rlly unhealthy) for breakfast bc i can :) any who, enjoy lovelies <3

“oh my, y/n! you’ve grown up so well! just like your sister!”

“oh! i’m sorry i’ve almost mistaken you for your sister! y/n is your name, correct?”

“y/n, darling, you are looking so dashing! you really do resemble your sister, don’t you?”

“ah, you must be y/n! i’ve heard all about you and your sister from your father!”

you swear that your reddening cheeks are threatening to fall off any moment now from all the fake smiling. the hundreds of superficial compliments, the insincere flattery and the need for these people to constantly compare you to your godforsaken sister makes you feel even weaker than you are. it gets harder and harder to keep up with a big persona that isn’t at all you. as lucky as you are to live such a lavish lifestyle, you can’t help but hate how your family has to be so perfect. you hate how you have never fit in with them, even if you are so good at faking it. you hate how you have always been stuck in your sister’s shadow, constantly haunted with the reminder that you yourself aren’t good enough. you hate how you now have to entertain the rich and brainless guests at your parent’s gala because she’s gone for some stupid prodigy competition and everyone is only talking about her in front of your face. so what if she’s better the better sister? you still have the right to earn respect, right?

you’re exhausted from all the small talk. your facade gets more brittle by the second under all the pressure. your body feels as if it's gonna give out due to your brain shutting down after all that interacting. you try to keep on going with the night as it unravels itself by being the perfectly poised poster child, trying to make your parents proud. but alive yet almost completely devoid, you decide enough was enough. what if you left right now? no one would notice, would they?

after pulling up your phone discreetly to send a few text messages, you pass through lots of people dressed in gold and finery in a way that wouldn’t have you noticed right away. keep your head down and don’t you dare make eye contact with anyone. nearing the end of the room, grabbing the first glass of whatever alcohol you see and downing it in one gulp, you start walking away as quickly as possible from the ballroom. “ignorant privileged fucks,” you angrily whisper to no one in particular, setting the now empty glass on whatever surface and begin to head to the main exit where no one could spot you running away.

“and what do you think you’re doing here, miss?”

a voice interrupts you, looking up you see that it is your father’s head butler; johnny. he is dressed in a simple black suit that makes him appear taller than he is. his long brown hair is slicked back and his bowtie seems brand new. you have known the man since he started working in your household less than ten years back. you were a reckless child, often trying to find ways to sneak out, finding a way to escape from this life and he sympathized with you. after all, he could barely imagine living your life, never catching a break for yourself and always pretending to be someone you weren’t. he often helped planning when you would sneak out into the night, scheduling things like what time you should leave and what time you should be back, more specifically a time when no one would notice. he would take care of your form of transportation and have your location on at all times, just to be extra safe. as much as he wants you to have fun and have a bit of freedom, he still worries that something might happen to you. because of all this, you two have grown to have a very strong bond. you could confidently say that he is most definitely a parental figure in your life since your parents (and even your sister) are often overseas for work.

“what do you think i’m doing? you think i wanna be in a room with those half-baked bipeds? fuck no!”

“i know, i was just joking. you looked like you were about to explode in there, i wish i could help.” he laughs, pulling out his phone preparing what you might need. “so what will it be for today? the driver? we just need to pay him to keep his mouth shut. a taxi? it’s cheaper than paying the driver, but you still need to pay… not like that’s a problem for you though. maybe an uber would be good enough—“

“actually, i got myself covered. thanks.”

his jaw slightly drops and his eyebrows furrow. he looks straight at you in shock. “what do you mean you got yourself covered?”

you look down at your feet, a nervous habit. “i got myself a ride, you don’t need to help me. i’ll be back as soon as dawn comes.”

he raises his eyebrow. “who’s your ride?”

“doesn’t matter,” you glance down at your phone seeing a notification and wave a goodbye, leaving rather suddenly. “i gotta go, i’ll text you when you need to open the gates!”

“y/n! wait! who’s your ride— and she’s gone.” johnny sighs, watching as you run towards the front gates, tossing your stiletto heels away on the grass while you’re at it. he heads back inside, silently hoping you’ll be fine.

knocking the window of the old black mustang parked outside behind the big bushes, the driver rolls down his window and sends the most charming smile.

yuta in his black beanie, long blonde hair, worn out doc martens, signature leather jacket and black skinny jeans. it almost makes you laugh on how he wears the same thing almost everyday but still manages to look so good.

he is most notable for having a big bad boy reputation and you knew that he was the breath of fresh air you needed in your life. a person who can understand having the pressure of having to be or to fulfill your persona. a person you can completely be yourself around. a person who is full of warmth no matter how cold he may seem on the outside.

“get in, princess.”

and that was all you needed. you tiredly walked to the other door and sat yourself in the car. rolling his window back up, he looks at you. you are wearing a simple yet stunning black dress along with silver jewelry adorned on your neck and wrists. your makeup is perfectly done but still struggles to hide the fog in your eyes. he has the sudden urge to clear them away. he softens at the sight of you. no one is perfect, but he finds you being perfect enough without ever having to dress up.

“where to?” he asks as gently as he could. he knows that you are most vulnerable during these moments and that it is hard to finally break down your walls after a day full of stress, so he doesn’t pry immediately. all he wants to do is to keep you here, safe and away from your burdens and for you to stay comfortable with him, even if it couldn't be for long. but is that too selfish of him to ask? he hates how you hate your life and it is taking every bone in his body to not run away with you. but who is he to tell you what to do or what to change anyway? all he can do for now is try to find a way to make you genuinely smile.

“take me anywhere,” you whisper to the latter. “i just want to be as far from myself and my life as possible. miles away or the nearest convenience store, just take the long way home before dawn.”

you look down at the cup holders, spotting an open cigarette box. you tug one out of the nineteen and light it with the lighter you kept in your pocket. you lean back and close your eyes. he only admires as you bring the cigarette to your lips, exhaling a cloud of smoke afterwards. letting the radio play quietly, he starts the car and begins to drive away from the mansion. he can’t help but wonder how you (an elegant daughter) and him (a bad boy) are millions of worlds apart, but more similar than you think.

© perhapsthanatos (efa)

[feelssogoodinmyarms]

hey could you do melchior/moritz with 70. sorry idk the ship name. love your fics btw

can you believe next month it’ll be a year since you asked this? i have no concept of time, thank you so much for waiting. I can confidently say this is way better than it would have been if I wrote it a year ago. Thank you for the ask and compliment darling💕

This is set post-covid as implied by Ilse’s remark. The risks of seven minutes in heaven are mentioned at the beginning so if that makes you uncomfortable skip to “You’re going to deny...” there’s also some slight nsfw toward the end. everyone’s 18 obviously.

if anyone else wants to request one of these prompts i promise it won’t take a year 

70. Starting With A Kiss Meant To Be Gentle, Ending Up In Passion

“Seven minutes in heaven is fucking stupid,” Melchior complained. “Who the hell thought it would be a good idea to lock two people in a closet together? It’s date rape central.”

Moritz chuckled awkwardly and Ilse rolled her eyes. 

“It’s a bad idea to give stupid teenage boys, like I once was, the opportunity to do something like that,” Melchior clarified. It was no secret that in his former years, he was exactly the kind of teenage boy he’d just described. He felt that was all the more reason he should advocate against things like this. 

“You’re going to deny a bunch of college students the opportunity to stick their tongues down each other’s throats after we were forbidden to go within six feet of each other for a year?” Ilse asks, only half sarcastically. 

“I guess not,” Melchior conceded. “It’s still a bad idea though.” His eyes shifted to Moritz who was drinking something out of a solo cup and gazing in the direction of Martha and Wendla. He was probably hoping to get paired up with one of them. Not that Melchior could blame his friend, they were beautiful women, but he’d be lying if he denied wanting to be paired up with Moritz for the same game he so denounced. 

Surprisingly, Melchior only talked to Moritz and Ilse for a few more minutes before being summoned to the closet. He begrudgingly entered, ignoring the giggles cast in his direction. Maybe he would get someone cool like Martha or Anna and they could just talk for seven minutes. Suddenly the door opened and a tall man was thrust into the closet. It was dark, but Melchior recognized the figure. 

“Moritz?”

The young man jumped and turned sharply to him. “Yeah, jeez you scared me.”

“Sorry.”

“Where are you?” Moritz reached his hands out in search of the other man. Melchior couldn’t see very well and moved toward the voice. A pair of hands met his in the dark and his instinct was to move away, but Moritz gently intertwined his hand with Melchior’s before he could. Melchior’s heart felt like it stopped and Moritz dropped their hands. 

“Sorry,” He stammered, Melchior imagined he was blushing. 

“Uh, no. You’re good.” They stood in silence for a moment before Melchior interjected. “God this is stupid!” He laughed. “We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to, there’s no reason to be nervous.”

“Yeah!” Moritz agreed. “There’s no reason for it to be awkward, we know each other right?” 

“Yup,” Melchior’s voice cracked, despite his argument that there was no reason to be nervous. 

“Five minutes!” a voice from outside boomed, probably Bobby’s. 

“So, are you enjoying tonight?” Melchior asked. He moved closer to Moritz, to see him better of course, nothing else. 

“As much as I can,” Moritz chuckled. “Honestly, I might dip soon. These things exhaust me.” 

Melchior couldn’t tell, but Moritz seemed to be moving closer to him as well. 

“You smell good,” Melchior blurted out and instantly regretted it. It did elicit a laugh from Moritz which almost made the comment worth it. He did move closer this time, Melchior could tell. 

“Do you want to kiss me?” Moritz asked, voice just above a whisper. Melchior absolutely wanted to say yes but he couldn’t get the words out, instead nervously laughing. 

“You’re right, it’s stupid,” Moritz chuckled and ran a hand though his hair. 

“No! It’s not, I just-”

The voice sounded again, “Three minutes!” 

“Can I kiss you?” Melchior asked, throwing subtlety out the window.

Moritz nodded and nervously placed his hands on Melchi’s shoulders. Adrenaline took over and Melchior leaned forward without hesitation. He gently planted a kiss on Moritz’s lips as electricity seemed to course through the both of them. It only took moments before it became too much and Melchior couldn’t hold back anymore, pulling Moritz closer by the waist. The other man moaned into his mouth and it went straight to Melchior’s groin. He gently nibbled at Moritz’s lip before biting down harder. Moritz moved his hands to Melchior’s hair, tugging part of it slightly. He was about to pull Moritz into his lap when the door opened. 

“Woah-ho-ho-ho!” Bobby howled. “What have we here?”

“Shut up, Maler,” Moritz grumbled and climbed to his feet. Melchior couldn’t come up with anything witty to fire back and just blushed. He followed Moritz out of the closet and the two of them ended up on the back porch. Moritz stood with his forearms resting on the railing of the balcony and Melchior joined him.  

“So…” Moritz started.

“So can I take you out?” Melchior asked. “We could go to that coffee place by my house?”

“Yeah, absolutely,” Moritz sighed, as though he’d been holding his breath the whole time. 

“You know I’m really glad you did that.” Melchior bumped Moritz’s shoulder with his own. 

“I’ve been flirting with you for like two months!” Moritz laughed, his glance ahead, not meeting Melchior’s eyes. “I can’t believe you didn’t expect it!” 

“Well shit, I had no idea,” Melchior laughed and inched his hand closer to the other man’s, pressing on the railing. He blushed yet again when Moritz gingerly took it. 

“I’m not very good at flirting I guess,” the latter conceded, though not sadly.

“I mean, ��Do you want to kiss me?’ worked pretty well,” Melchior teased. 

“Maybe I’ll be more direct from now on.” Moritz rested his head on Melchior’s shoulder, both of their hearts jumping in their chests. 

kiss prompts

[mariaiscrafting]

can i ask why you dislike dream? im not being passive agressive or something lol i am genuinely curious

S’all good, kinda figured you weren’t being, and a lot of people have asked me this lol. There are so many reasons, and I’ve said this so many times already, but I’ll try to go over some of the main things I can remember:

1) Arrogance: kinda put me off how he’s always responded to criticism. Always kinda had an air of superiority about shit, and it never really bothered me on its own because I think lots of CCs are arrogant & I’m arrogant myself, but combined with all of the following, it became a reason for me to dislike him lol

2) Manipulation of his audience: look, I kinda always knew that CCs with huge fanbases, especially CCs who grow this quickly, have some kind of grasp of how to treat and foster their audience to their greatest advantage. I’ve always been wary of CCs that put on soft or nice personalities, especially since the whole Shane Dawson debacle. But with Dream, it’s been a whole other thing ever since his cheating response video, and I’ve never been able to see him in a good light in regard to how he responds to his fans, ever since. I went into it in a lot more detail back when I first watched the video, the day it dropped, but I’m too exhausted to scrounge that post up, so I’ll summarize: that video had a very specific strategy that he used to victimize himself and appeal to his fans’ compassion for him, and after rewatching the video for the third time that day, it felt gross and calculated to me. The way that he focuses very little on the actual mathematical part of his argument. The way he frames the issue of the mods having favoritism or bias. It was already proven on Reddit and throughout Twitter that the numbers the mods looked at were for good reason, and not because they just wanted to pick the numbers that made Dream look the worst, but that’s how he framed the argument. When I logged onto Twitter and Tumblr that day, there were thousands of fans who had latched onto what he said in the latter half of that video and coming to Dream’s defense, and that’s kinda when it hit me: this guy fucking knows what he’s doing, and he’s doing it well, and I really really dislike it. There’s about a hundred other ways he manipulates his audience, including not coming to people’s defenses when huge chunks of his audience attack them (even though the people had respectful and correct criticisms of him), defending stans so adamantly in the face of antis, and posting periodic alt tweets that help garner the illusion that he super cares about his fans; but, that cheating response video was the major red flag, for me.

3) Cheating & lying: as is likely no surprise to y’all, I think Dream cheated lmao. At first, I was ecstatic that he had actually made a detailed response video and put out a report with the help of an actual professional, but as I read up on his supposed statistical argument and dissected the parts of his argument that felt off to me, I realized maybe he had cheated. Talking to some STEM major friends of mine, who weren’t into MCYT but had obviously heard about the whole debacle because they like Twitter and Minecraft, kinda put the nail in the coffin for me. I’m not nearly smart enough or have a good enough memory to detail exactly why I think he cheated on this blog, right now, in April, but essentially: his main argument relied upon claiming mod bias, instead of a sound mathematical or statistical argument; there’s no way of proving that the world files he provided to the mods and in the open source weren’t altered; the statistical problems he points out (i.e., stopping effect) don’t actually skew the original mods’ model nearly as much as his supposed PhD guy would say; and the odds he comes up with might not be nearly as impossible as 1 in 7 trillion, but they still come up to around 1 in 100 million, which is still fucking ridiculous, considering that there are only, like, 120 million people in the world who play Minecraft.  Not impossible, but laughable that he expects people to believe that. But... I guess they did, lmao. The thing that peeved me the most about the whole thing was the adamant lying lmao. When you look at the situation from the perspective of “dream cheated,” you realize just how fucked up all his Twitter responses, his adamance in streams and that video, and the general mood among his friends is... idk man, it’s just highly fucked.

4) Relationship with stans: look, there are significant numbers of  his fans that take part in Twitter cancelling vendettas, who spread around information about other CCs and their fellow fans that is false and meant to villify them, etc., and he never fucking says anything. It really, really bothers me. There are too many instances to enumerate, but a few that have caught my eye were when Dream stans would attack Techno, prior to their battle and when a Native American woman politely explained why he shouldn’t use Native music, he responded and said he wouldn’t, but tons of stans continued to attack her in her replies for “being so harsh/mean.” Like, he knows that just one word from him will make his fandom follow his beck and call. All it would’ve taken was one fucking word. There are so many fucking people that have been harrassed off of social media platforms because of the hivemind that is dttwt, for christ’s sake.

5) Reddit posts: All of the above were reasons for me to mildly dislike the guy prior to the Reddit posts, but they weren’t really enough to make me stop posting about c!Dream or reblogging fanart or reading DNF fics or watching Manhunts. I kinda just clowned on the guy, answered the occasional ask about the cheating thing or something related, and left it at that. The Reddit posts not only pissed me off for their content, but for the lying, as well. Do you think I fucking cared about him cheating at speedrunning Minecraft, of all games? Fuck no. What I cared about was the adamant lying that went into the whole debacle. Kinda the same with the Reddit posts. I’m one to usually forgive creators who acknowledge past errors, obviously. It is creators who try to brush stuff off, or even worse, create an elaborate lie to cover up allegations, that put me off a fuck ton. This is the reason I could never be comfortable with watching Pewdipie after I realized all the shit he had brushed off, and it’s now the reason I can’t go back to watching Dream. There is so much evidence that points to guilt, including but not limited to: his first move when the slideshow dropped (before posting to Twitter) being deleting as many old Discord messages as he could, the contradiction between him at first denying the account was his at all then changing the story to say he shared it with a friend, the wording and phrasing in the political posts being almost identical to the non-political posts that were clearly him (i.e., the one that explains his demographics perfectly), and the timing of the political posts (some of them being posted mere minutes after posts that were verifiably him, like the picture of Patches to the cats subreddit). People can claim that he’s likely changed, and what this it matter, as long as politics don’t affect his work now, but I can’t believe this fundamental misunderstanding of why bigotry in entertainment matters. I’ve always had a problem with the adoration this fandom has for cishet white men, and the constant criticism of non-cishet, non-white, non-men, but this really feels like the final slap in the fucking face. It’s like everyone truly believes that it doesn’t matter, that his beliefs couldn’t have possibly affected the way he’s treated fellow CCs in his circles or any of the number of people that depend upon Dream, directly and indirectly, for employment/CC clout. It’s like everyone truly believes that political ideology has no effect on the way we perceive, treat, and behave around other people in literally any field, not just politics. I, just... Christ. I don’t really wanna unpack my emotions about this whole thing right now, so I won’t. I’ll just say: I dislike Trump supporters and ex-Trump supporters alike, I dislike conservatives who claim they’re centrists (every fucking guy my age does this, it’s infuriating and makes me want to bash my head into the nearest wall), I dislike people who levy their fans against criticism - even when it’s righteous - and I dislike people who lie about their past actions; Dream fits all those categories, so I dislike him.

[bluebellhairpin]

As We Can

Thor Odinson X Immortal!Reader

A/N: Am I doing another self-projection fic? Yes. Do I want to get the point across that I love you, no matter what you look like, and I will help you take care of yourself? Hell yes. Some of my closest companions are on the chunky side. I would kill for them. - Nemo

Warning(s): Idk but there’s a hell of a lot of talk about self-worth, and hence self-love. So talk about Insecurities, character Death (very brief - Loki hoes might cry), Angst, but also a buttload of f l u f f ! 

Summary: We all need to give ourselves some care sometimes. Thor is one of those people, so you give him a little help - and sometimes that comes in a many few different ways; words, music, flower crowns. 

Masterlist  

[Gif was a Google find since Tumblr tags don’t have the representation. Creds to the maker, we love your work!] 

Saying you’d lived for a long time was the understatement of the century. 

You’d lived through too many natural disasters to count - Mount Vesuvius one of the more memorable of such disasters - plus hundreds of wars, and as many ‘collenizations’ of ‘new worlds’ to poke a stick at - not to mention the sicknesses that passed by as well. 

By now you were pretty damn tired of it all. 

But then, on top of everything, you could add something that had never happened before. In much more recent years, Earth had taken to being invaded by aliens. The first and most obvious was that of the Chitauri in New York. The most recent was Thanos and his Army in Upstate New York. 

By this point in your life, you’d started to become ‘exposed’. As most immortals do, over time you showed up in different photographs and paintings over the years, and with access to anything from one place - a.k.a the internet - some started to put things together. 

You even had your own online conspiracy club. You were proud of that. 

While it didn’t exactly bother you, you could see it causing some problems in the future - especially if you showed up in more places more often. So you made a decision. You needed to get off Earth. 

Luckily, timing then had you neatly close to Tønsberg, having watched the events of Thanos’ newest attack on the news in your hotel room in Oslo, you fast-tracked your journey there - to ‘New Asgard' - forward a week. 

There you sought out Thor, and through him a passage off into space. 

__________

Days, if not weeks passed - honest to god by now you couldn’t tell the difference - and while he was in no way the worst person to hang around, Thor was acting off. 

You’d never met him before your of-hand trip to space, but you had seen him on the news, online, and in papers. He was nothing like he was then, now. 

If you’d learn one thing in your age-less life it was that everyone needs a cause, a purpose. You’d spent the last three-hundred years - at least - devoting yourself to different causes, including the two World Wars, and it was clear to you that Thor currently did not have one.

So you decided to help him find it. 

Naturally you started with the subtle things. Being on a ship full of delinquents, also known as ex-space criminals, subtlety wasn’t always the best bet if you wanted something. Especially when it came to Drax. Hints went over his head like a frisbee in a hurricane - but you figured Thor wouldn’t be that… Unwittingly ignorant. 

By the time a couple days passed you had your answer. 

He was that unwittingly ignorant.

You didn't know how anyone else felt, but you knew it went a bit deeper than what others might’ve thought.  __________

“Thor, may I pull you aside for a moment?” you asked, appearing behind the Asgardian as the ship floated lazily through space outside. 

He jumped slightly, completely unaware of his surroundings, but nodded in agreement once he saw it was ‘just you’. Luckily no one else was around this part of the ship, either opting to rest or oversee Peter up in the cockpit. 

You fiddled with your sleeve, eyeing Thor as he settled in one of the seats across the room. You decided then and there to not beat around.

“Are you okay?” His eyes snapped up to yours, being me with your ever-so-slight scowl. 

“Am I okay?” he asked, scoffing out a laugh, “I am fine, why? Why wouldn’t I be?” 

You turned your head, taking a couple steps forward. 

“I can tell if you are, or if you aren’t.” He rolled his eyes at that, crossing his arms and pulling up his guard. “Do you remember what I told you, back on earth when I asked to come with you here?” you asked softer, gesturing to the ship and the stars outside.

He grumbled, rubbing at his eye and ruffling his hair before staring at you expectantly.

“I promised I could help.” 

“Look at you, how the hell could you help?”

“I am almost two thousand years old, Thor Odinson. If I know anything it’s how to help you.” He kept his eyes on you, watching as you dragged a chair out and sat in front of him. You took in a deep breath, searching his body language for any signs that meant he didn’t want you to continue.

“Are you really that old?” he asked, leaning towards you slightly.

“Aye, that I am,” you nodded, “Was born in Ancient Rome. The first notable event I lived though was when I was about ten, word spread around about that volcano erupting - not that we knew what it was back then.” you smiled little at the memory, looking down at your hands sadly. 

Apparently he wasn’t too bad a reading body language either. 

“No one else was like you, though - being able to live forever. Were they?” You shook your head no, and he hummed. “Maybe then we could help each other?” 

“Sure thing Sparky.”  ___________

You’d been working together with Thor for a good couple months, and in between searching for Gamora with the Guardians, and - in your opinion - hopelessly looking for Loki too, you thought Thor was doing much better.

He was less recluse, took care of himself a little more, and backed off Peter’s leadership a little (the latter may have been barely noticeable). Even if those things all came under your urging, you still counted them as steps forward. 

Anything positive, no matter how small, was still positive.

“(y/n)!” Thor boomed, rattling you from your bunk in the ship, “Are you ‘Holding out for a Hero’?” 

Nebula and Mantis poked their heads out from the bunk above you, ceasing their game of Paper Football to watch for your reply. You rolled your eyes, sliding off your comfy spot to lumber out to Thor.

“Pardon?” Thor cleared his throat as he held out Peter’s Zune. 

“This song speaks of a hero. Do you need one?” You took the player from Thor, scrunching up your nose at the 80’s song. 

“Not currently, but if I do you’d be the first person I’d call for, you can count on that.” you said, scrolling through the song list, looking for a song you preferred more. You missed the proud grin that reached Thor’s face. 

“There,” you pressed ‘Hold the Line’, and tried shooing him off so you could get back to your cozy corner, “Try that one Sparky.” 

“Much thanks.” He said, turning off with the device in his hands. You made it back to the doorway and watched him go.

Thank goodness Peter wasn’t here, otherwise he would’ve snatched that thing from Thor even before he got hold of it. __________

The planet you’d stopped on to replenish supplies was one of the most Earth-Like ones you’d seen since you left Earth. The only major difference was the inhabitant’s fashion choices, and the large array of flowers - they were literally everywhere.

If Rocket hadn’t  latched onto Groot’s shoulder the moment they stepped off-ship, you’d probably have lost the humanoid among the greenery.

“Great Zeus.” You breathed, slight disbelief at the sheer amount of flowers. 

“Who is ‘Great Zeus’?” Mantis asked, you cast a glance back at her.

“Um, basically him,” you pointed at Thor, “But much older, and more horny.” 

“You are going to be more horny when you are older,” Drax said, clapping Thor on the shoulder, “Congratulations!” 

“I meant a -” you stopped yourself, snickering, “- Nevermind.” You step off into the crowds and mazes of flowers, not waiting for Thor - your ‘Supply Buddy’ - to catch up. It never took him long anyway.

“Is Zeus one of your ‘Roman Gods’?” Thor asked, sidling up beside you as you maneuvered around the crowds.

“Nope. Zeus is Greek. In Roman his name is Jupiter.” 

“And in Norse he is Thor.” he said. You looked up at him, cracking a smile. 

“Mhm, I think I prefer Thor over Jupiter or Zeus though.” you said, eyeing a patch of flowers that was inhabited by a small crowd - and they were making flower crowns. 

Thor had no choice but to follow you as you made yourself comfortable among the multi coloured blooms - distracted and off task as ever. But he made no effort to join you, standing off to the side instead. 

You eyed him as you pulled a few flowers into your hand, weaving them together in the same way you remember your mother doing a hundred lifetimes ago. Patting the spot next to you, you grinned.

“Come over here Sparky.” you said, flicking your eyes down to the flower patch to pick a few more. “I need to make sure this fits.” 

You weren’t taking a no. The nickname you gave him in itself spoke volumes. 

He came over, slumping down beside you in the sunlight. You made quick work of the flowers, tying them together neatly before laying it atop Thor’s half pulled-away hair. It fit perfectly. 

“A crown fit for a king, I’d say.” 

“Pity I’m not much of a king.” he said, reaching a hand up to play with some of the petals.

“‘Ζώμεν γαρ ού ως θέλομεν, αλλ’ ως δυνάμεθα’.” you blurted, not once breaking your stare at Thor. His eyes widened, then moved to looking very confused, so you translated. “‘We live, not as we wish to, but as we can’. A Greek Dramatist said that. It was one of the few phrases we knew it greek, and our father taught it to us. He always implored us to do our own best, not the best anyone else can do.” 

All the while you explained, you weaved together another crown, one slightly smaller than the first, yet still almost identical. Tying it off, you sat it on your own head.

“Our best can sometimes be a lot, or a little even if we wish it to be a lot. But it doesn’t matter. Our best is still our best.” Thor looked between your crown, and your eyes. 

“I don’t think it’s that easy.” 

“Because it takes practice.” you plucked another flower, this time sticking it in his beard. “No one gets everything right the first time. Yet everyone does do their best at the time of their first time. Accepting that they did their best - that’s what they struggle with.” 

You poked in more flowers into his beard - your words seemed to plunge him into deep thought - he made no effort  to stop you, if he even noticed. 

After a time, he looked down at your hands, still piling flowers into his flower-filled beard, and smiled lightly.

“How about you make some for the other Asguardians of the Galaxy.” 

“Flower crowns?”

“Yes,” he grinned, “Your best ones.”

[chubsonthemoon]

tagged by @storybookprincess!! (thank you!!) here are some of my fave fics I’ve written! tbh this was kinda difficult; I am very aware that nothing I write is neither perfect nor very polished (it wouldn’t be even remotely fun for me if I tried to do that), but mostly everything I’ve written I’ve written for the sole audience members of me myself and I (and also sometimes a friend :3), so these are some of my more recent faves. under a cut because this got kinda long, whoopsie!

tagging! @superish, @dodici12, and @owletstarlet! <3

Letters from Heaven: haikyuu!!, kagehina, 60k

this fic was written for last year’s kghn big bang and it was so fun! It’s the longest thing I’ve written yet, and boy oh boy it was such a challenge to juggle a bunch of different things that I hadn’t done on this kind of scale before, like longer character arcs and, especially given that this is a violet evergarden AU, describing things in a way that fits with kyoani’s style and VibeTM. My last longer fic, thy kingdom come, was about half this length and almost made the list simply because of how bonkers it was (like I hadn’t written at all that year and suddenly signed up for a big bang and then had to take a month long break in the middle because of school stuff, and then boom I ended up writing the latter half of it a few days before the deadline LOL), but anyway. It’s not perfect (nothing is!) but it’s chock full of recurring metaphors and long-winded descriptions about the sky and pining out the wazoo (basically: all wildly self-indulgent things catered to me and me alone) and I love it all the same. (also bajillion thanks to janine for this one heh she is to blame for most of my kghn madness)

over the edge (of all our knowings): hunter x hunter, killugon, 13k

okay this one almost went to my other killugon fic again bc everything I write is so self-indulgent but!! this fic is probably one of the few fics that I set out to write very intentionally? that sounds weird, hmm how to explain. I tend to write fic mostly to let out Emotions but tbh it’s so much easier and way more fun for me to do that through reading other people’s works--less work for me to read abt my faves than to write them, after all! so most of what’s on my profile before this fic is exactly that: I sat down at like one in the morning with my notebook and fever-dream scribbled out a oneshot that I spent maybe the next two or three days typing up, reading over once, and then yeeting it up onto the archive. but not with this fic! I had already written my Vent fic for the boys in question, but my goals with this fic were more deliberately geared towards examining and changing up my approach to writing: 1) I really wanted to explore gon after the world tree and what his healing might look like, but gon is Really Hard for me to write (the boy is so!! ARGHSLKDFJ). So: deeply inhabiting unfamiliar character pov practice. Asking myself, after every single line of dialogue and event and inner monologue, how this character would react and why. How will this impact their next action? How will it impact their relationship with this other character? How about this? and this? and so on and so forth 2) I wanted to find a balance with my metaphors on both a sentence by sentence and an overarching basis (I tend to just go for the first--I can’t help it I love purple-y prose jslkdfj). 3) Time!! I also went a lot slower with this one. Every night for over a month, writing a little bit at a time in my notebook. And I found that going slower...is actually really nice? Takes a lot of the stress away. tldr; this fic was basically one long exercise in me examining my writing (also ngl my creative writing professor’s feedback on my work for class really kickstarted this LOL) and boy oh boy was it satisfying to see it posted when I finished. I learned a lot! Also I got some of the kindest comments that made me tear up, which was so wonderful. god this got long okay moving on.

your heart, bright heart: natsume yuujinchou, tanunatsu & gen, 7k

after over a year of quarantine I’ve read more fic than I ever have in my LIFE and I have figured some stuff out about what makes me go absolutely bonkers, writing-wise. this fic was an attempt, after several months of reading literally hundreds of fics across dozens of fandoms and relationships and pairings (like geeze! hxh, run with the wind, hq, yuri on ice, the great pretender, ouran highschool host club, snk, mdzs, final fantasy xv, and yes natsuyuu too LOL), an attempt at making myself go bonkers, if you will. and I still can’t quite put my finger on what it IS but I know it has something to do with the naming of things. like an author will Name a Thing, very specifically, whether it is an action or a character thought or something very simple about the environment--and that something speaks volumes about the character and their relationships and the core themes of the series and it’s like. it’s like there’s a moment of understanding between that character and the reader, an oh! I know what that means. it’s wonderful and I’m butchering the explanation here but anyway. I still have no idea how to do this myself yet but goddammit I’m gonna get there one day. This fic was my first attempt in the Naming of Things. idk if there are any oh! moments in it myself, but natsuyuu is the perfect series for the kind of quiet that I think you need for those small moments. 

holy SHIT this got long uh. if you’ve made it this far--thank you?? this was also useful for me to articulate what the hell I’m doing in hamsterland. Recently a visiting poet came to one of my classes at university and talked about language-making as a physical art. Language has a physical existence, she said; it leaves the body and enters another and causes a physical reaction in both speaker and listener. She talked about how writers are creators of physical things, and how writing is mostly thinking before the creating. The physicality of language. To say it made me lose my marbles is an understatement!! tldr; there’s so much inspiration everywhere, and I wanna write more!!! So I’m gonna!!

[shnuggletea]

THE AWARD NOMINATED FIC CONTINUES! Now nominated for the 2020 3rd Quarterly Inuyasha fandom awards for best dark! This is the second time I've been nominated for best dark, you guys trying to tell me something? LOL! Maybe I should post a comedy soon? I do love writing a dark plot for Inuyasha though...

Speaking of posting fics, I have a couple up to bat for next. I was wondering if you guys would be interested in having a say? I could post the choices on Tumblr? If that is something you'd want or if you don't tumble and want me to post them in my ANs, let me know!

Thank you all for your support. Another nomination... I mean I was blown away with the first one! This really is a great Fandom. I had honestly considered leaving fanfiction completely until I entered this one. Now I want to stay! My originals are going to suffer but oh well I guess. I'm almost done with one original and I'm super excited about it! I might take a small break from originals once it's done and out to publishers to work on some fanfiction. I also still don't have a keyboard, typing on my screen currently. If I thought I had gorilla fingers before... Top of my list to finish, Daddy Issues (SM) and STYH.

Anyway, enjoy all!

AO3

FANFICTION

Oh am I supposed to still tag? Idk if I am I think most of you have this bookmarked. @underwater0phelia @lavendertwilight89 @mamabearcat @nartista @nopenname22 @echobows @superpixie42 @smmahamazing @redflamesofpassion @jme-chan @cstorm86 @cicleydark-light @ruddcatha @lavaffair @kirrtash @sistasecbhere @inusgirl @obsessandfangirl @britonell @lordofthechips @mcornilliac @faolenwolf @classyhumanathletepalace @keichanz @phoenix-before-the-flame @artisticloveexpressitsall @lamuertadehambre @noyourenotreal @mitty-san @thenoammonster @little-deeluna @royaltrashpanda @sailorbabydoll92 @storyweaver2017 @malditamigs @adorabubblesblog @lilms-obsessed @petri808 @anniehcresta @fan-dumpp @itzatakahashi @utakuprincess @theschultinator @all-too-ale​ @little-inukag-obsessed @theseagullqueen @queenofthesquirps @inusgirl @jolinaaa00 Do you guys want me to tag you? For this and other things I post? Please let me know!!!

Chapter Eight

"Didn't...Inuyasha say something about a six-year-old?" Kagome asked, pulling a stool near and sitting to listen intently to Miroku.

"Inuyasha was six, living with his mother with no word from his father when he met Naraku. His father was never in his life and his mother didn't know a damn thing about demons. So when Naraku found Inuyasha and tried to pull him into his gang, Inuyasha cried as loud and as hard as he could about the bad man trying to steal him. Naraku fought back against the cops, of course, but this was around the time that anti-demon repulsion was coming into fashion. Naraku didn't know what hit him and it was all thanks to Inuyasha that the cops even knew what to use on the fucker."

"Okay.. so Naraku hates Inuyasha. With the looks around the yard, I would think that would be in his favor?"

Miroku huffed, "Yes and no. Naraku will crush anything that Inuyasha touches so no one touches him. And Naraku was one of the demons that helped in the purge."

"Hold on, is that what demon killer meant?"

"Yes. The purge of 06 was carried out by demons."

She felt sick, swallowing thickness beach down her throat. "Why would demons do that to each other?"

"Well, ones like Sesshomaru were promised their freedom. Which of course they didn't get. But Naraku… he did it for power. And the idiots that ran this place back then let him get away with consuming countless demons before cutting him off. He killed about a hundred demons and thirty humans that day."

"You were there?"

"No. I'm not that old! Geez, woman! No, my father was there. He was a guard once before his curse consumed him."

She brushed the back of his cursed hand. "It will consume you too?"

Miroku nodded and moved on quickly. A sore subject. "Inuyasha's reputation isn't helped by the fact that he put a lot of the demons in here."

Her head was starting to spin. "Inuyasha was part of the Anti-Demon Squad?"

"Ug. Always hated that name. So contrite."

"You were on it too?"

"Yes. We were partners. Hence why he tolerates me. But then the tables turned and we were the ones on the wanted boards. All because he has demon blood in his veins and my curse."

"I was thrown in here, too, for being different." They had a short moment of solidarity and moved on. "If you both hunted demons then why does no one hurt the people you touch?"

Without saying a word, he lifted his cursed hand and waved it. "I'm also not a half-demon. That's frowned upon by both sides apparently. Never bothered me. Who he's related to also doesn't help. Plus, I don't have Naraku gunning for me. Inuyasha never had a chance, getting thrown in here."

"Couldn't he have lobbied for a different prison? There are at least… three?"

Miroku shook his head, "the public wasn't told this, but after the purge, they knocked it down to one prison."

"But..but...that means…"

"All the caught demons are all right here in one convenient spot. Cuts down on funding"

"So if this place becomes overpopulated again…"

"Luckily new demons don't come in much anymore. With people like me and Inuyasha no longer on the force," Miroku gloated, "they don't catch that many anymore."

She huffed, "for such a good demon catcher, you'd think you'd avoid getting caught!"

"Yes, well, what do all humans end up getting caught up in no matter how hard they try?"

It took her no time at all to figure that one out. "You? And Inuyasha?"

"Inuyasha's girlfriend turned him in while I," he sighed heavily at the memory, "I was turned in by one hell of an enchantress."

Kagome had gotten caught saving the man she once loved. There was nothing she could say on the subject, she was just as pathetic as they were.

"Inuyasha is just trying to protect you the only way he can. If everyone thinks he hates you, they'll leave you alone. Although now I'm not so sure there's a point. Looks like Naraku has it out for you regardless. What did you do to get in his sights?"

Rolling her eyes and her stool away, she started straightening up to leave. "I took some blood. He didn't want me to but I didn't have a choice! The Warden was breathing down my neck. I don't regret it, doing it got me this infirmary and now I can do what I love, helping people."

"They're not people, Kagome. They're demons."

"Same difference!"

"No. Not really. If it weren't for the runes they wouldn't even need a Doctor."

"Well there are runes and I am needed."

"Runes or not, you're definitely needed here, Kagome."

She was still thinking it over, but now she was sure. A talk with the Warden was a necessity.

oOo

It didn't take as long as she expected for the Warden to find time for her, stopping by the infirmary. And he didn't give her a fight on her sleeping in there either like she thought he would. Either her argument, being ready even in the middle of the night to help and not needing much guarding like the demons in the prison, worked really well or Onigumo had other reasons. She didn't kid herself, the grin he wore the entire conversation told her it was the latter.

What he gained from her being here, she didn't know but she gained as well, getting away from Inuyasha.

Miroku's story that day had been nice, it was good to know someone in here had a heart. But it also showed her what having a heart did to people here. Inuyasha would forever suffer more than the other inmates. They could connect with others, maybe even fall in love and have some kind of life in here. Inuyasha could never have that.

So really, she was doing him a favor. Getting out of his hair would only make things easier for him. This way, he no longer had to force himself to care or not about her.

Inuyasha wasn't in the cell when she got her things, a few extra pairs of scrubs was all she had, and she was glad for that. The last thing she wanted to do was explain and see the relief spread across his face. Now a few weeks later and she almost never saw Inuyasha, proof positive that he was glad to be rid of her and she tried not to let it bother her.

It was a good thing, that didn't mean she was happy about it.

Now the keys to the infirmary were hers for good, locking everything away and pocketing the keys when the door opened. Koga was leaning heavily on one of his men, blood dripping to the floor. Pointing to the bed without a word, she got the needed items and pushed her stool to his side. His friend left, shutting the door behind him.

"What happened?"

Koga glanced at the wound like it was nothing, a long and angry line that continued to drip blood on the floor would be nothing but a scratch to a demon under normal circumstances. "Your friend attacked me."

"Excuse me?" Her disbelief was rolling off her tongue.

"Kagura. I think she was hoping for solitary. Wants to be back beside her man."

That actually made sense. Sesshomaru got a couple days a week out of solitary and those days were spent enjoying the cooler days outside or with Kagura. Usually both at the same time. It was really endearing, the cool-headed Sesshomaru falling at the feet of the hot-tempered Kagura. She should really have a conversation with Kagura, see if she could get her to come to the infirmary for a private meeting.

"Kagome," Koga grabbed one of her hands and stopped her work, "I'm glad we have a moment together like this. I wanted to give you another chance to think about my offer…"

She pulled roughly from his hold. "I told you, no. I don't need or want your protection…"

"Why? Because you have the Hanyou's?" She remained silent and Koga snickered, "He won't protect you. Not from everything. And he's nothing compared to Naraku, who has a hardon for you."

They both ignored the small jump in her chest at the mention of that name. "Naraku is locked away in solitary."

"For now. They let him out every now and then you know? Not as often as Sesshomaru, obviously. And there are other things to be protected from."

Kagome hadn't had many struggles since she'd been here, focusing on wrapping his wound instead of his words. Because they were false. "I'm fine."

"Of course you are! Because of me! The only reason you've had it so good is because I've kept you from the worst of it this whole time!" He shouted at the top of her head.

He was like a child, acting out when he didn't get the attention he wanted. So she didn't give him what he wanted, continuing to watch her hands. "I'd prefer it to being your woman. I know what happens to them."

Silence rang out for a few solitary moments. Then Koga took her hand again, stopping her work to her agitation. "It wouldn't be like that, Kagome. I… I like you. I want you to myself."

Throughout her life, Kagome had received a few confessions. Each time it was a shock. She never once thought of herself as someone 'wanted' or 'likable' like that. She was self-confident to a healthy level, but she never took the time to consider others romantically. Even Hojo, it took her some time to collect herself and give him an answer when he confessed. But, even though it was a surprise, she knew she felt nothing of the kind back to Koga.

"I… appreciate that. And your protection. But I can't give you anything more than friendship. I'm sorry."

Roaring, he got up at that, standing over the bed and her with a glare that had his eyes glowing. "You'll regret this, Doctor."

His continued immaturity was on full display as he stomped out. Kagome just found it annoying. She made it through her younger years unscathed only to get locked up and deal with bullies like this? It would be laughable if it wasn't so sad.

oOo

It started out small, the differences in 'life without Koga's protection'. Mostly just more kid's stuff.

The nods she used to get turned from grimaces to indifference thanks to Naraku, making the hazing that much easier to occur. Someone would walk by her at lunch and tug her hair. It hurt but it wasn't enough to scare her into Koga's arms. Next, it was shoving. In line for food, out in the yard, walking around in the halls. Then tripping.

All they were really doing was making her look and feel like a klutz.

Combine the three and it hurt pretty bad though, especially when they didn't let go of her hair until after she hit the floor hard. By now she knew who to look for too. And for some reason, it was Koga's women. That had her a little worried that things would only get worse and that he would eventually send his men after her. No way was she going to break though, she refused to be someone's bitch. She'd rather be beaten to a pulp.

Which was very likely to happen before Koga's pack went all out, his women clustering around her for another dose of 'life'. They had already gotten her in the cafeteria today but it looked like they were upping their treatment, coming up from behind as usual.

Hands on her back, she knew what was coming and stepped to the side. This didn't stop them from tripping her but it did keep them from getting a hold on her hair. Her long braided cord was still aching from when they tried to rip it from her head earlier. Her side step put her on a different path, one that had her colliding with another body once she lost her equilibrium. Or rather had it forced from her instead of lost.

It was the first time in weeks she hadn't face planted to the floor. Instead, her face was planted firmly in a chest that had hands wrapped around her biceps. "Oi watch where you're going!"

Slowly lifting her head, Kagome prayed she'd heard wrong but it was undeniable even before golden eyes glared down at her. She had successfully avoided Inuyasha since the day she moved into the infirmary. Three weeks of not seeing his molten orbs on her and now she was practically on top of him.

She wasn't a fool. He was avoiding her too. How else could it be possible, a large jail but not that large, that she didn't see so much as a wisp of his white locks disappearing around a corner? He wasn't avoiding her now, his hands still on her even as she got her bearings. His glare quickly passed from her to the women softly cackling behind her. Their laughter stopped but Kagome knew their hazing was far from finished.

The women moved on but Inuyasha still had his hands on her, slowly turning from holding to rubbing. "You alright?"

She shrugged off his question but not his touch, missing it more than she cared to admit. "I'm fine. Nothing I can't handle."

"Koga is trying to pressure you…"

"I know," she sighed, "he confessed to me a few weeks ago…" Inuyasha tensed but she ignored it, "I told him I just wanted to be friends…"

Now he laughed, the sound echoing off the walls and a few others that passed by. Inuyasha didn't seem to have any struggle being seen touching her all of a sudden. But there weren't many around to see this. "I wish I could have been there to see that!"

"You didn't need to be. Because he responded the same as he is now. Childish pranks and hazing. People are so immature here!"

"Demons," he corrected her again, "and most have been locked up in here since before puberty. They don't know how to act like adults." His hold dropped and he started to back away. "So how did kids in your schools act when they didn't get their way?"

She knew the answer and she didn't like it. "I get it. Any advice on making it stop?"

He was leaving her behind so she followed at a distance. "If Koga wants you to be his 'girl' then there's really only one way to make it stop. Unless you want to be his?"

Turning to look at her over his shoulder, Inuyasha teased her in a manner that had her wondering if he was actually curious. "Yeah, that's a big 'no'."

He chuckled, turning back around. If anyone were to watch them it would look like she was just walking behind him, not that they were having a conversation. "Then you gotta become someone else's bitch."

"Nope. No way. Forget it, I'll just take the hazing."

He stopped and spun to face her. "Even if that includes getting your bones turned to paste? Can't help others with only one arm."

"I'm a Doctor in a jail infirmary. Not a surgeon in the cancer ward. One arm will serve me well enough." His eyes went impossibly wide at that but she ignored it. "Can I pretend to be someones? Like you?"

Taking a step, he removed the distance between them. "I don't pretend."

Maybe he was trying to scare her? It was pointless, she didn't fear Inuyasha in the slightest. Of all the people here, he was the only one she trusted to the fullest. It was why her heart picked up its pace whenever he was close. The fact that he was drop-dead gorgeous didn't help though, his strong jaw flexing more the longer she held her ground and head up to him. Crossing her arms over her chest and hoping to muffle the sound, she took a slow and deep breath. Not to speak, but to breathe in his Earthy scent that she had missed.

"Okay."

He broke first, shaking his head. "No. Even faking a relationship with me would only bring you more trouble."

"Would it? Naraku already has it out for me. And everyone here may hate me but they won't touch me thanks to my Doctor status."

His mouth hung open for a moment, thoughts turning in his head. But then it slammed shut and he seethed. "Miroku."

"Yep."

"What else did that damn gossip tell you?"

She kept her mouth shut and shook her head. Anything else that Miroku had told her was more like hearsay, it didn't really tell her anything about the man before her. And she rather hear the details from Inuyasha when he was ready, not forced to explain.

"Doesn't matter. Things would only get worse if you associate with me. Which, you know or you wouldn't be living in the infirmary." His tone was accusing and she took great offense.

"I moved out so you'd have one less thing to worry about. Besides, I was tired of the angry puppy routine."

"Dog references. Nice." He said with a grimace.

"You're welcome!" She smirked.

She watched the corners of his mouth fight with him for a moment, wanting to smile but not before her so they ended up twitching. "You should talk to Miroku. I'm sure he'd looove to have you as his 'bitch'."

Kagome wasn't too sure about that but Inuyasha knew him better than she did. Giving him a nod, she expected the 'conversation' to end. Except Inuyasha reached up and gently pulled the small elastic out of her hair. She never asked how but Kagura had given her a few from her 'stash' of hair supplies. And now it was around Inuyasha's wrist like a bracelet.

While her hair still maintained its shape, it was only a matter of seconds before it completely unfurled. That wasn't fast enough for Inuyasha, carefully loosening her strands until they fell apart, a long cape down her back. He stared at her for a few more heart-pounding seconds, breathing in deeply like she had moments ago when he got close and her lungs weren't restricted from his actions.

"Just wear your hair up and out of reach. It won't be much longer till they cut it off like a trophy. Probably what Koga wants them to do the most."

Swallowing hard, she kept her eyes on his, watching as he looked all around her face, neck, and shoulders. As if drinking her in. "What would he do with something like that?"

Instead of answering her question like a normal person, he reached over and took a handful of her hair. Then pressed it to his nose as an example, closing his eyes as he breathed in her scent deeply. It confused her body because she really liked him smelling her, oddly, but that mixed with the image of Koga doing the same thing. Inuyasha was a dog and Koga a wolf. So although different, they would have many things in common like their addiction to smells. If Kagome went by Inuyasha, she must smell really good to those with sensitive noses.

Suddenly, he dropped her hair and stepped back. She had forgotten that the distance between them wasn't the norm, feeling the heat of his skin on hers he was so close.

Turning on his heels, Inuyasha shoved his hands into his pockets and quickly moved away from her. "Just make sure it's a fake relationship with Miroku."

He called to her, not turning to speak to her as he was too busy getting as far away as possible. Inuyasha was out of sight when she realized he didn't get her back her hair tie.

[asgardianthot]

Flesh And Bones – Part 9

Soulmate AU

Series Masterlist

A/N: oof this took a while! second to last :( gonna miss cracking my head with this fic lol never again shall I just wing it without a clear idea of how to end a story.

*Important: Hydra base scene but I won’t depict a tortured Bucky, he doesn’t always have to suffer at the expense of his ex-captors and I’m honestly getting tired of the obscene amount of torture fics out there!! Consider this an anti-trigger warning but also a threat? Idk enjoy

The anguish never went away.

Two days later, Bucky found himself knocking on Sam’s door, his heart on his hand.

There was no answer behind the thick walls, but Bucky knew he was there. Somehow, he felt it deep in his bones.

"You okay?" he asked.

The sound was muffled inside Sam’s room, both from the structure separating them and the external sounds that made their way in through the open window. There, Sam rested both hands on the lower frame as he stared outside, more focused on the wind and noise that drowned down his thoughts than the actual view. Bucky’s interruption made him realize he didn’t know for how long he’d stayed in that frozen position.

He slid down the window until it hit its frame, "Yeah, why?” he lied nonchalantly.

His mind was racing. As time passed and brought the team closer to the Hydra raid, Sam worried for Bucky. Not that he wasn’t prepared or that he was being reckless, because he knew that wasn’t the case. What had him worrying was the idea of Hydra potentially targeting Bucky. Although Natasha had assured him a million times that there was absolutely no chances that this was a trap, Sam’s mind couldn’t help but wander around horrible ‘what if’s, ones that compromised his soulmate because Hydra’s finest assassin had escaped them, so they were likely to want revenge on the man. Maybe even try to get him back under their grasp. And if Sam was deprived from the option of saving him, he wouldn’t know how to live anymore.

Bucky’s answer, however, got his head out of the dark cloud.

"I don't know. I feel weird." Barnes mumbled from across the door, loud enough to be heard though.

The last three words alone were enough to bring Sam towards the closed door. Bucky felt him. He felt weird, and wondered if Sam was alright, and he went to check up on him. As soon as he faced the mildly pouty lip, the big brown eyes, the badly concealed worried frown, he wished for nothing else than to kiss that pout away.

Which he did very aggressively. Sam brought his body against Bucky’s, he cupped the brunette’s face by his raspy cheeks and crashed their lips together. He didn’t wait for Bucky’s tongue to dance with his, he made it. When they stopped to regain their breaths, and the make out was over, Bucky looked confused, but in the best way possible.

He caught his breath with an amused look, "Okay."

Sam wanted to laugh with him, address his flourishing emotions, but his worry was far greater. So he showed the man inside and gestures to follow him. They both sat at the end of Sam’s bed.

“Yeah, there’s something wrong.” Sam admitted.

Barnes’ tone became sterner and more precautious, “What?”

Wilson held his hand before speaking.

"Tony said there's no rules or anything.” He reminded the latter of their informative chat with Stark, “But he did make it seem like there was some sort of... I don't know, some sort of progression.”

"What do you mean?"

Sam inclined his head like he was pushing himself to say the next thing out loud, "You've been really nervous lately."

Bucky didn’t flinch, yet he wasn’t comfortable either. The idea of Sam knowing that, finding out that he wasn’t as relaxed about the raid as he wished to play it out, was a quick disappointment.

"Guess you could say that." He looked away.

"I know that.” Sam emphasized the word while at the same time lowering his volume to attain a more intimate tone, “I don't think I should be able to."

Bucky simply shrugged.

"Why can I tell when you're anxious?” He had to insist on his concern. “How come you do too? It doesn't make any sense. Unless..."

"Hey.” The soldier stopped him, already knowing what scenario Sam was forming inside his head, “There's no step back here.”

Given Bucky’s certainty was convincing, and he was becoming aware of the fact that he was overthinking, Sam still couldn’t shake off the sour feeling of approaching danger.

“You’re supposed to be the sane one here, Sammy.” Bucky laughed, which brought a warm feeling deep in Sam’s chest because of the employed nickname, “We're okay. It doesn't have to mean anything, remember?"

That was enough for Sam’s heart rate to drop considerably. Bucky managed to calm him like that.

"Thank you.” Sam said genuinely.

Nevertheless, Bucky could read him. Hell, he could feel his dark feelings not shifting away. So he went into the gray zone he didn’t think he would be approaching anytime soon.

“Is it because of Riley?” he dared to bring up the subject.

Sam was more than taken aback, but he blinked to dissimulate. They had only ever talked about Riley once before, in another heart-to-heart, and it had brought tears to Sam’s eyes. Bucky knew everything, their friendship that was always something more, the love declarations left unsaid, the part where they saved each other’s asses in Afghanistan. Riley was the reason why Sam trusted the universe to be kind, even without a soulmate. He was the reason Sam told everyone you can love without a bond, because that memory was all that was left of the dead man.

“What do you mean?” he let the words out minimally.

“Are you afraid to lose me like you lost him?”

Sam shook his head, rejecting the mere thought of comparing the two men, almost desperately. There were open wounds that he hadn’t had the courage to heal yet. He cleared his throat and tried to shrug it off.

“He, uhm… He didn’t have that crazy serum of yours.” Sam faked an absent mind, although he failed, “You’re not the same.”

Bucky could see right through him.

“Exactly, I’m not Riley.” He grabbed Sam’s chin endearingly. “I heal fast, and you’ll feel me the entire time, and I get that you’re scared, but so am I. It’s why we got each other, right?”

Sam’s vision became less blurry when his soaked eyes dropped a single tear each. They rolled down his cheeks and were wiped away by Bucky’s thumb.

“I promise you won’t lose me.” He ensured his soulmate, who allowed himself to be held and rocked until he felt like talking again.

-

“Everyone on comms?” Steve’s voice barged into everyone’s earpieces.

As soon as the five other voices replied, Rogers gave them the orders required to execute the raid perfectly.

The first two floors would be empty, according to their lead, for they mainly consisted of dirty  storage units meant to distract anyone from even getting close to finding the real base. So, those floors were their entrance and their escape, if ever needed. Hopefully, they would imprison everyone, realistically speaking, a few would be taken out in the process, perhaps killed. Whatever may come out of the raid, Steve Rogers had a whole alphabet of backup plans.

First off, they had to disperse. Steve and Rhodey walked upstairs as silently as possible, reaching the third floor in minutes. Meanwhile, Bucky and Natasha moved forward and explored the premises with their guards up. Romanoff’s excuse to pair with him was that they both had experience with these kind of organizations, although they everyone was rather aware of the fact that she was keeping an eye on the man Sam was worried about. Bucky ignored the reason behind it, and made no comment as the pair was left behind by Sam and Wanda, who walked upstairs.

When the first line of Avengers broke down the door in one swift blow, shield and blasters up with anticipation, they found the entire floor empty. After a confused glance between Rhodes and Rogers, they lurked around every single corner and behind every single door. Nothing.

“This wing is clear.” Rhodey said through his earpiece.

Although it didn’t seem to upset the rest of the team half as much, Sam was experiencing his fair share of anxiety. He looked up to the ceiling, as if he could burn a whole straight through and peak at the floor in question.

“Where are they?” He whispered to himself.

A minute later, Steve sent another command, “I need guns on the front line.”

Barnes rolled his eyes in mocking of his best friend.

“Nobody talks like that, Stevie.” He taunted him.

Yet Steve didn’t appreciate the joke, for he was far too tense. His eyes moved around frantically, looking for a possible trap, which his paranoia was leading to.

“Guns first.” He repeated himself clearly, “Something feels off.”

But nobody got there. Before Bucky or Natasha could even reach the stairs, a set of loud noises surrounded them. In every floor, metal doors fell from the ceiling, blocking exits and doors. These doors weren’t too intense, but their tech hadn’t picked up on them, which meant they were expected. Every Avenger found themselves trapped in their respective zones. As for Barnes and Romanoff, they were too apart from each other to even see the other’s face.

So, deep in his fear, Bucky raised his gun and checked every wall his sight could reach, almost waiting to be attacked. If Natasha was completely honest, she would have bet Bucky was a target, as well. That is what everyone’s minds went to, especially Sam’s. Luckily, he had the company of Wanda right next to him to feel calmer.

"Everyone okay?" Rhodes checked.

Sam and Wanda replied with their status and whereabouts, but after a lack of response from the other two, the man confirmed their status on his wrist screen, only to see that Barnes and Romanoff were off-line. He figured they must’ve been trapped downstairs.

"We gotta move fast.” Steve ordered, keeping his Captain-like calm, “Try to get to the control panels, if not, evacuate. They know we're here."

Wanda and Sam. Walking slowly. Careful. Not many places to hide, but there must be a way out.

“He’s okay.” Wanda let Sam know.

They walked side by side, as slowly as possible. There weren’t many places to hide nor another entrance that they knew of, on the second floor, yet they remained precautious.

“What?” Sam let out without paying much attention.

“I’m saying, he can take care of himself.”

Once Sam understood that Wanda was playing the best friend card in letting him know she knew Bucky to be strong, he realized he probably looked too worried.

He fought back his frown. “I know that. I’m just…”

“Anxious?”

“We’re trapped in an underground intelligence base,” He sighed loudly, “shouldn’t I be?”

The statement earned an acknowledging nod from Wanda, who waited a few more seconds to press his earpiece and reach the Captain.

“Steve? You think it’s okay if I tear down a wall?” She asked for permission to jump into action.

“No.” Steve denied her dryly, “Bucky and Nat are on their own, we won’t engage until they’re safe.”

The young woman shut her eyes with annoyance, “Okay, Steve? You’re not helping Sam stay calm.”

She received no further comments. Everyone felt too powerless after all. No comments.

Down in the bottom storage, the place began to look more like a maze. It was a mess of similar, dusty hallways and old, closed doors. Natasha tried each and every single one of them, but they were useless, and she figured they wouldn’t get her anywhere, anyway. It might as well have been an underground cellblock.

“Barnes, give me a sign.” She asked for a second time.

Bucky indulged her, complying with her attempts at finding each other. Together meant safer.

He thought hard about his whereabouts, “East wing’s on my… left side.”

“I can’t get through to anyone else.” Romanoff finally said what seemed obvious to both of them.

The soldier couldn’t help but take a deep, calming breath, for it was a much needed one. He gripped his gun harder, trying to ease himself.

“Me neither.” His mouth spoke in disconnection with his brain, which was submerged in paranoia by now.

Natasha could sense that.

“We’re okay.” She did her best at calming him realistically, as she looked around for a way to find him, “You said east wing? I think I got you, Barnes.”

Suddenly, a gunshot was clearly heard, making Natasha turn around in a haze, only to find herself alone, and realize that the shot came from afar.

“Crap.” Bucky groaned, his communicator still on.

After the sound of three other guns and what appeared to be Bucky’s rapid machinegun, the woman panicked.

“Talk to me.” She ordered him.

"I got hostiles!" Barnes screamed over the noise of his own weapon.

As soon as Natasha realized she could hear where the attack came from, she followed the echo, running. Eventually, the sound drowned out.

“Bucky?” she asked, fear crippling through her.

There was no reply but the sound of Bucky panting. She managed to find a grilled gate, which she shot and kicked open easily, all the while her mind raced to the worst case scenario. Sam had trusted her with his soulmate’s life.

Finally, she hit the scene: two dead bodies on the floor, both hostiles. The soulmate’s life was still intact.

“Good, you’re alive.” She breathed out, pretending she wasn’t just losing her mind mere seconds ago.

Nevertheless, she quickly noticed that Bucky’s panting was linked to whatever made him hold his ribs so painfully. Then, Bucky removed his flesh hand from that zone in order to look at it, revealing to both of them that the hand was covered in blood. As terrified as Natasha was, her expression couldn’t match Bucky’s.

"You’re shot." She stated with wide eyes.

Bucky swallowed hard, "We have to find Sam." He said roughly.

As Romanoff processed Bucky’s fear, the latter looked around for an out in desperation. He was worried that Sam was hurt. Sam, who couldn’t bleed out from a soul bond wound, while Bucky had his fingers pressed against a pool of red.

"He'll live.” Natasha approached him carefully, “You, on the other hand..."

Barnes shook his head. "Sam first."

-

Wanda was known to save the day without too much effort. Turns out, the Hydra base was covered in desperate traps because they were too vulnerable to withstand a raid. Therefore, the witch tore down the metal walls and flew up to help Rhodey and Steve, who didn’t need too much aid as it was. Sam stayed down, fully aware that the other three were probably kicking ass, and still worrying. He ran downstairs as soon as the blockade was taken care of, in need of finding Bucky safe and sound, even if he knew that he was.

And he knew he was okay, because Sam himself hadn’t felt a single sting. Not a gunshot, not a bruise, not even a scratch.

So, if Sam felt untouched, then Bucky must be.

Finally, he heard the pair, and found them at the bottom of the stairs. He jogged the last few steps and noticed that Bucky was holding himself up against the wall, limping. The latter looked up with big, concerned eyes.

"You okay?" He asked Sam.

That was when Sam saw the bloody hand pressed against his soulmate’s chest. Natasha was helping him stay on his own two feet, while Bucky examined Sam’s body like his own life depended on it. Technically, that was the whole deal. Wilson pushed his own hand against Bucky’s and frowned.

"Did you get shot?" he shouted in despair, his eyes as big and afraid as ever.

"I'm sorry. I tried-" Bucky tried, but cut himself off with a grunt of pain.

"Buck." Sam grabbed his torso.

"Let's go home." Bucky begged.

"Yes. We will.” Sam’s tone became serious and authoritarian, “Sit down."

"I'm fine."

"He's losing a lot of blood." Natasha confirmed Samuel’s suspicions.

In between the frantic commands and worrisome looks, Bucky couldn’t help but notice Sam’s lack of discomfort. Almost like he hadn’t felt a gunshot in his chest a few minutes ago.

He frowned with confusion, "Why are you-?"

"I didn't feel it.” Sam shrugged it off, way more focused on the open wound, “Sit down. Bucky."

"What do you mean-?"

"I didn't. Bucky!” Sam grabbed the face of the stubborn, hurt man with his free hand, smearing blood all over his cheek, and yelled to his face. “James! Listen! There was no bond. Right now, that's not important. You're bleeding out."

"They didn't hurt you?" Bucky seemed to finally understand.

“No!”

The new information hit Bucky like a soft, warm wave of tranquility. If Sam wasn’t hurt, if Hydra hadn’t hurt Sam, then he didn’t need to worry. He could breathe. And as he breathed, he felt a sharp pain in his chest, along with some heavy dizziness.

"That's good." He mumbled, looking past Sam with lost eyes.

"It is. Now calm the fuck down." Wilson begged, trying to take a good look of the wound.

Bucky nodded, finally compliant, "Okay."

With that last word, Bucky’s eyes rolled back into his skull, and he surrendered to tiredness. He stopped feeling anything other than her very light head, until everything went black.

"Shit.” Sam cursed under his breath, catching him before he hit the ground completely.

He eased his partner’s fall and let the passed out body rest against the wall.

“Give me a hand.” He asked Natasha.

They managed to sit him straight against the wall, in order for Sam to press his hand against the bleeding gunshot. Nat said something over the communicators for the rest of the team, which Sam didn’t fully catch, before she knelt down next to her friend. She examined the wound, then Bucky’s pupils and let out a breath.

“He’s gonna be fine.” She appeased Sam.

“I know.” Sam said without giving it too much of a thought.

The woman gave him a wondering look.

Sam merely shook his head with uncertainty, “I just do.”

[dancingkirby]

Day of Black Sun Ensemble: Azula I

Agh, IDK WTF I’m even going to title this thing!  Anyway, the basic idea is that this is, of course, about the events of the Day of Black Sun through the eyes of Azula and three OCs; the OCs are all paramours/victims of Ozai.

I really want to get all or at least most of it done before starting to post on ff/AO3, but there’s twelve chapters plus an epilogue and I want to make sure it’s okay!

Warnings for the entire fic: Some really heavy stuff here.  All OCs (and Azula, of course) are underage when Ozai first takes advantage of them, and there will be repeated references to rape and dubcon, although nothing very graphic.  

Warnings for this chapter: References to blood/menstruation.

PAST

Azula was eleven, and she was about to die of embarrassment.

It had seemed like just another routine sunrise firebending practice on the balcony.  But halfway through, she began to feel awful; her head and stomach and back were all killing her.  She managed to finish the whole routine by sheer force of will. Then, when she walked back into her room and shucked off her sweaty training gear, she saw the blood.

She didn’t freak out. She wasn’t stupid; she knew what this meant. It was just a bit earlier than she had expected.  Last school year, all of the fifth graders at the Royal Fire Academy For Girls had gone to the assembly hall to see a rather condescending presentation about puberty (no puppet show this time, thankfully).  “The average age of menarche is twelve and a half years,” they had said.  But she was eleven years and one month, and here it was anyway.  She’d reached every other milestone early, so she supposed it made sense.

Unfortunately, Shiza chose that moment to enter the room with Azula’s morning protein smoothie; her high-waisted gown failing to hide the fact that she was growing stout around the middle again.  She made a little squeak of surprise, hastily set down the smoothie in its habitual place on Azula’s night table, and scurried over asking a million questions. Are you okay?  Are you scared?  Do you know what’s going on?  Are you in any pain?  Do you need any help? Do you want me to get Dr. Huang?

“Go away.  And don’t tell anyone,” Azula growled.  Her lady-in-waiting’s breathy, high-pitched voice was only making her headache worse.  She was not in the least bit scared, and was perfectly capable of dealing with this herself.  Her school had handed out samples of the necessary equipment after the presentation last year.

Shiza obediently bowed and backed out of the room as quickly as etiquette allowed.

She seemed genuinely worried about you, a voice in Azula’s head whispered. She immediately wrestled that thought into submission.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Shiza may not have told anyone, but the laundresses were nosy gossips as always, so despite Azula’s efforts, the whole Caldera seemed to know by the next day.  Servants tiptoed around her like she was on her deathbed, and the severity of her symptoms and heavy flow had made it so she’d had to stay home from school for two days.  

Finally, a week later, it was all over.  Azula still felt somewhat weak from the blood loss, although she could never let anyone know that.  Father sent for her, as she knew he would.

“It happened earlier than I anticipated…but now you are a woman grown,” he told her.  “Now you can serve me in every way.”

Azula nodded and smiled, trying to will her heart to stop racing.

“Show me.  I’m ready,” she said.

The pain was excruciating, although she never let her smile leave her face, and then she hemorrhaged and had had to stay in bed again while she received iron infusions.  But it was worth it.

PRESENT

Today, it was the day of the eclipse, and she would be serving Father in a different way.

She stood still, arms spread out at her sides, as Shiza’s gentle but experienced hands buttoned buttons, fastened hooks and snaps, and cinched straps.  Her armor fell into place with a click, and the outfit was completed with the crucial sash to accentuate her trim waistline.  

Shiza brushed Azula’s hair, careful to not let it snag on the armor, and pulled it into a perfect topknot.   She applied exactly two drops of scent to each side of Azula’s neck.  Finally, after giving the cosmetic pots a quick stir to ensure that they weren’t separated or dried, she started on the makeup: foundation, powder to take away the shine, lipstick red enough to make one’s eyes hurt, and just a touch of blush so she didn’t look too pale.   For the finishing touch, she applied Azula’s eyeliner using the dull edge of a knife to make sure it was perfectly straight.  Azula had requested that she do it this way; other people may have quailed at a sharp object being so near her eyes, but not her.  

Her work done, Shiza backed away and bowed, awaiting Azula’s next command.  Long ago, Azula had come to accept that, despite how annoying she found Shiza, the diminutive young woman was her most competent lady-in-waiting. During important occasions such as this one, she was the only one whom Azula could rely upon completely to make her appearance flawless.

Normally, at this time of day her rooms were bustling with servants bringing in breakfast and preparing Azula’s morning bath and laying out articles of clothing and toiletries to make Shiza’s job easier.  Today, though, it was just the two of them, and things were eerily quiet.  

“Thank you,” Azula said, finally breaking the silence.  “You are dismissed.”

Shiza murmured her acknowledgement and bowed again.  She seemed nervous today.  Now that Azula was thinking about it, her lady-in-waiting had been acting oddly for some months now.  Did she think that Azula didn’t know about her repeated trips to the harbor for excursions on that boat of hers?

She would have to look into that…tomorrow.  Shiza would have to have a death wish to try anything today.

“You needn’t worry. We have had months to think this through, and are prepared for every eventuality,” Azula assured her.  

“Of course,” Shiza said.  As Azula closed her eyes, running through the plan a final time, her lady-in-waiting carefully closed the special case designed specifically for the makeup knife and left.  

In Azula’s distracted state, she never noticed that, although the knife case was closed, the knife itself was absent.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Soon, her Dai Li escort arrived to take her to the bunker.  On their way there, they encountered the bastards, who would have their own room underground.  

Anshi, of course, was heading up the line.  As soon as she saw Azula, she blew on the whistle that was always around her neck and ordered everyone to bow.  

Azula took the time to look them over.  Behind Anshi, there were Ichiro and Zhilan; the latter was clutching her own baby to her chest.  After them, neatly paired up, were Izumi and Ruanyu, Kenzo and Azen, Uzeko and Nozomi, and Lanying and Eri.  

But wait…there were two missing.  Upon Azula’s inquiry, Anshi explained, “Shiza took Zoren and Teza from the dormitory last night, Princess.  She said that the Fire Lord had special plans for them.”

Hm.  Shiza hadn’t mentioned this to her.  That seemed suspicious too, although it was not unheard of for Father to change plans at the last minute.  With another blow of Anshi’s whistle and a command for them to show Azula their best marching, the group set off.

Down and down and down they went, Azula leading the way, until they were in a special room that was below even the basement.  From there, a creaky elevator would take them down one or two at a time.  Azula noted that Father and Zuko were apparently already underground.

“What if the volcano blows up while we’re inside it?” the six-year-old Azen blurted out.  Izumi burst into tears.  The girl, despite being nearly fourteen, was scared of her own shadow and mostly nonverbal.  Azula would have considered her simple-minded if she hadn’t read some of her elegant and eloquent poetry.  Despite being two and a half years Izumi’s junior, Ruanyu was obliged to take on the role of an older sibling as she patted Izumi’s hand.

Anshi replied, “It’s not going to blow up.  Now pay attention…”

“I hafta go to the bathroom!” Nozomi interrupted.

“There’ll be one when we get there,” Anshi said while rubbing her temple.  “As I was saying, please pay attention as I go through this one last time.  The elevator will take the Princess down first, and then us.  You must all stay with your buddies at all times, and absolutely no wandering off.  When we are all down there, we will be taken to our room.  Does everyone remember what to do if the enemy breaks into our room during the eclipse?”

“We kick their faces in!” Ruanyu said brightly.  “And maybe other places too!  Like their…”

“Thank you, Ruyanu,” Anshi said pointedly.  “But yes, that is the general idea.  Older buddies are responsible for protecting the younger ones.  And…” her voice broke briefly as she glanced down, “You must all do exactly as I say when I say it, no questions asked.”

“What passionate Fire Nation citizens you all are,” Azula praised.  Internally, however, her mind whirred into action.  Had Anshi figured it out?  Just then, her escort tapped her shoulder; it was time for her to make her descent. She had no more time to think that over; now all her focus must be on the plan.

Even as far underground as they were, the elevator had a long way to go.  After it stopped, she was escorted through a maze of hallways; the layout would be bewildering to anyone else, but Azula had memorized every detail long ago.  

The room she had been assigned was bare of furnishings except a throne. No bathroom either; only chamber pots from Sozin’s day for the direst of emergencies.  Anshi had lied about that so the kids wouldn’t panic.  But it was no matter to Azula.  They’d only be here a few hours at most.  

So she crossed the room, sat down, and waited.  

[advernia]

around june of last year, i decided to revive my writing blog as one of the many potential stress-relief methods i could think of.... i didn’t think i’d be able to keep it active for long since work + family duties keep me preoccupied most of the time, but eyyy!!! so far i haven’t lost the motivation to keep going back to this blog, and i even managed to keep it afloat for half a year!!! amazing!!! (•̀o•́)ง

and now here we are halfway through 2020!!! it’s waaaay overdue but here’s a big T H A N K  Y O U  V E R Y  M U C H ! ! ! to everyone and anyone who dropped by this blog last year + all them likes, comments, reblogs...... please know that i’m still i n c r e d i b l y grateful for the support & interest in the content i’ve posted up!!!! tbh my activity’s still hella sporadic so it’s really amazing for me that i even gained new followers.... i’m very honored to have all of you stick around my blog despite my irregularity!!!!!!!! (༎ຶ ෴ ༎ຶ)

it’s also overdue, but i slowly managed and finally cleaned up the blog like i’ve been meaning to do + changed the blog name to match my ao3 handle for consistency!!! i make no promises to be super active... but i’m sure that i still want to continue writing & keep this blog alive!!!! 

again, thank you all for your time + reading my works!!!!!!  ∩( ´∀` )∩ work commentary on the rest of my works last year follows under the cut!

oct 1 // hero’s journey

a drabble on blanc + oliver about the alices... now that i think of it, calling the first alice first alice is kinda funny considering that alice is really her name... or is it? 

i do hope blanc’s route talks about her a bit, haha! i mean, i wish cybird remembers that they’ve been dropping the occasional background tidbits about her... like for example, her pocketwatch (that she gave to blanc eventually) having a magic crystal engraved into it.... her potentially leaving a fucking globe in the black army’s possession (like... wow... u fell with that thing????????)....

plus, i just find it interesting that she was remembered by cradle as a heck of a troublemaker lol! it also makes you wonder who among the main cast met her, blanc aside... though it’s not stated when exactly she fell into cradle, so maybe only blanc had the opportunity of meeting her...

so does blanc speak of her fondly bc she’s a woman, or is there something else??? has he been frequently visiting the land of reason pre-game??? has he found the first alice’s antique shop / met her again??? does he still try to figure out the reason why there’s a magic crystal engraved into the first alice’s pocketwatch????? hmmmmm......

on another note, it would be hilarious if cybird pulls a peter pan 2......... since we can’t pull off a mother-daughter relationship like wendy & jane’s, what if alice the second is somehow actually related to the first alice?? and while she’s completely different from her predecessor, blanc finds himself falling for alice the second........ just like he fell for the first alice? drama!

that’s just a random thought but kidding aside, i do hope blanc’s route is hella interesting bc i think he’s our mr. exposition for knowing more about cradle itself lol

oct 1 // fair (?) ladies & phony (?) enchanters

a result of going manic a few days after seeing harr’s trailer + route release.... ahaHAHA I’M STILL WILLING TO PLAY UR ROUTE IN JP HARR (if i actually had time to sit down and translate gET REKT)

i liked writing these drabbles and i think they’re cute but tbh they did nothing to ease my curiosity about harr’s route.... if anything else, it became even w o r s e  haha........................

if i think of blanc to have a cradle-centric route, i do hope harr’s route is magic tower-centric! naturally it will be since he’s got history there, but i hope a lot of my questions about the magic tower will be answered.....

will harr’s perspective of the magic tower be in the eyes of a test subject or a disciple???? he was scouted by the magic tower, but it wasn’t stated what he was doing exactly..... going by hints + loki’s & zero’s routes, it’s more of him being a disciple, so there’s bound to be guilt.......

hopefully alice’s characterization in his route is good + we get a fun group dynamic with loki!!! their potential.... the most(?) notorious criminal of cradle, a sought after test subject, and that one girl who nullifies all magic; a renegade trio lurking around the forbidden forest.... what an odd bunch!

oct 4 // god is a five minute hymn

a religious themed fic with lancelot & alice - tbh i don’t even know why religion was the first thing that came into mind when liz and i were talking about cultural differences, lol.

on that note though! i personally like thinking that if ever cradle had a semblance of a religion, it would be polytheistic & nature-centric, and not strictly practiced - the stratocracy of both territories i’d like to think makes it harder for religion to have a voice, much less have one that is practiced by the general population. the only thing general about it is that the religion centers or has magic crystals as an important factor... or something. yeah.

that aside, i think i specifically chose lancelot in this piece for the sole reason that his canonically stated lack of common sense, in my opinion, gives him the curiosity of a child sometimes - there’s no sense of malice or doubt, just the pure innocence of wanting to know something....... religion does that to kids, especially when introduced to it at first.

rereading the fic makes me think of the instances where when faced with dire or unsettling situations, people turn to faith as a life line.... well, i’m not sure if i had that subconsciously in mind when writing alice, but that does give a spin to it....

oct 6 // flow like the river nile

a spontaneous red army-centric fic! it certainly turned out better than i expected... i liked the formatting i used for this one!

if cybird can give us more about the pre-game suitors it would be great, tbh! and while the stuff about them in school is interesting, i’d like to see more about when they assumed their positions + combat scenes! the neutrals are special cases, but knowing more about their living conditions + daily lives is also a treat...

i was thinking of adding one last snippet about lancelot in the eyes of the reds, but i scrapped it out and switched it to alice & lancelot’s conversation about duty - it could’ve worked better if i stuck to using the what is your duty? question, but i scrapped it eventually too. ah well. it does look good enough as it is. 

oct 7 // seeking out phantoms

a mandatory(???) odd one out aka content that’s not ikerev, haha! i missed fe:a all of a sudden...

i never got around to writing properly for this fandom tho, what a shame - i’ve got some bits of pieces in my drafts that looked interesting and easy enough to pick up, and this was one of them.

robin investigating more of their plegian heritage could’ve been a good subplot tbh... i still wish there was something like a paralogue or dlc about it, bc honestly the valm arc goes a bit slow until you get to the future past revelations. ah well.

and gaius bc first husband for the win.... not like i actually had the guts to marry anyone else in my other save files lololol

nov 7 // push me off a bridge (to catch me as i fall)

my longest project of 2019, holy shit! i didn’t know i still had it in me to write something past 10k... i need more of that motivation + energy....

there’s nothing much to say about this since i blabbed about everything in the post-reading notes, but as much as i fought myself to get this done, i really enjoyed writing a long fic again! hopefully i can get myself to write another one this year...

nov 18 // beloved, beloved, let me be clear

18 sentences on zero & alice + macross frontier references! man, when i really got to the point about the earrings i was thinking of sheryl a lot....

kept it in sentences cause i didn’t have enough time to put up a decent ficlet! but i really wanted to get my screaming out of my system....... i used to do sentences + three word sentences challenges before, and doing one again was pretty fun!

but really.... zero’s route kept me happy for days???? their buildup + dynamic was something i was totally w e a k for, no joke..... thank gods the collection event was going on, bc i really made good use of my stocked chapter tickets lolol!

i was especially excited come the ball scene, and that cg..... a h a h a.... i need more of those pretty cgs where i can see alice’s face + costume change....... 

nov 20 // coloring inside the lines

jonah + alice + makeup!!!! tbh this was really fun, i enjoyed writing this one - if i remember, this was a fic that i managed to continuously work on the day i thought it up!

jonah may not be my best boy but tbh i find writing him very easy - i guess it’s because i’m very fond of characters like him!!! those uptight nobles who are as prideful as hell but can definitely live up to their name + are more capable than their bragging suggests... idk if there’s a general trope name for these doods, but i especially like analyzing their motivations + convictions!!!

i liked how i ended it, but i apparently i made an actual ending that’s now a snippet in my drafts - jonah & alice head to the ball, and somewhere along some bystanders’ flow of conversation someone drops a comment about jonah’s lips looking... quite more luscious than usual, lolol. so t h i r s t y. upon hearing this, alice can’t seem to stop smiling for some reason..... 

nov 27 // blue fields, verdant skies

a practice drabble set centric on a ray/alice development that i liked so much i made it into a series - plus, it’s black army content and honestly i need to write more of them! my red army bias is showing whoooooops

it’s a feudal + arranged marriage au, with the latter... being quite spontaneous. it’s those types of marriages where neither have even met - not even once - only to face each other come the wedding... so it’s a given that audiences from both parties are rather curious how this will turn out.

since i had the theme of fate in mind, ray was the automatic pick for the male lead. the rest of the black army is a given and for kicks, i added dean and dalim! i actually want to write about them + mousse, but since i’m still unsure on their characterizations i’ve been holding them off.... but i gave in anyway.....

alice is again named for word count convenience purposes since it’s in actual 100 words aka drabble form! i have planned scenes + an ending already in mind, but going there is pretty hard bc.... i still have to write the scenes in between + resist temptation to expand further on other scenes, haha....

initially i was planning to keep it updated here as well, but any more updates of this are on ao3 instead! the formatting looks better there instead of my blog tbh, and it also gives it a sort of muted tone to the story that works with me!

this is also the 31st fic in this blog, marking an end of the challenge liz bestowed to me lolol - since i brought this blog back to life around june, i was dared that by the end of the year, i should’ve posted more than 15 fics to add up to the initial 15 i had already posted before, thus the numbers on my fics back then.... now that i actually succeeded, i can stop counting lololol!!!! tho hopefully i can still be pretty active this year....

dec 22 // duck, duck, bullet

oliver & fenrir on guns... this probably wins as the most spontaneous idea i had on my head - tbh, i wasn’t even sure where i was going with it at first! but i’m sure i was suddenly thinking about that one detective conan movie.... then it became kid!oliver with a gun.....

i wonder if he tests the bullets at night, when he’s in adult form.... then again, kid!oliver with a gun still works.... say that because he’s a genius inventor, he made some models to serve as his shooting targets.... but another thought that amuses me more is.... blanc does the bullet testing for him!?

lololol i already thought about blanc being oliver’s live target, but i also find blanc with a gun very interesting.......... i mean, blanc certainly doesn’t look like he can fight, but who knows??? i mean, mousse is the former ace of hearts, but i still can’t imagine him fighting..... appearances can be deceiving....

the two aside, i wonder how fenrir even met oliver and got him working on his bullets........ was it through blanc or other connections???? how long have they been seller and buyer???? does anyone else commission anything from oliver?????? hmmmm.....

dec 23 // terms of surrender

i’ve been told by liz + luci + other friends that i needed to practice writing more.... cheesy fluff. i’m not sure if this sirius/alice piece counts, lol. in fact, i think it’s my definition of fluff i see here - and it translates to not exactly fluffy at all!

tho if you want me to be honest about it - when i write suitor/alice stuff, how alice was characterized in the suitor’s route is still my basis for how i’ll write her, and sirius’ alice................ haha......... i think she’s the alice that’s honestly easy to write but i choose to avoid.......... 

i don’t dislike the sirius/alice dynamic per se, tho. i do find it cute, especially if cybird stops emphasizing the issue of maturity in the relationship on alice’s side. i understand - i really do - that it’s a potential issue in the relationship, but...... that’s not the only problem you can possibly have as time passes, right?????

on another note, it’s funny that only sirius gets to be harped about the maturity due to age difference issue - setting aside blanc, who heavens know how old he is, lancelot’s 29 and since alice is presumed to be around ray + fenrir’s age, you could say that she’s 24 or even 23 to be safe.... so that makes a 5 / 6 years difference but it’s never brought up, lol. but i guess it’s because unlike lancelot, the black army’s been making sirius’ age a running gag....

anyway, this piece is pretty decent! i was thinking of something along the lines of mornings between a “married couple”.... there were two scenarios i had in mind, and i opted to write this one out first.... maybe i’ll have the second one posted up here another day.

dec 28 // a chain of black thrones

pre-game!sirius & ray and bc i was thinking a lot about the previous chosen, the former jack of spades!!! i wonder if the armies have a set age for retirement lolol... it would be awesome if there was still a chosen who’s already past his 50s or something, haha!

since sirius was constantly badgered to take on the role of king, i was also wondering about how long the black army was ‘king-less’... i mean, if the tension between both armies was really as great as they say, having no king puts the black army at a precarious position... i also thought that ‘nah, maybe there was a king or something but maybe the black army didn’t like him or something so they insisted that sirius take it instead’ but sirius’ 1st anniv. epilogue says otherwise - there really was a period that the black army had no king, wow. how the heck did they deal with that???? surely the red army saw this as a display of vulnerability....

can the black army’s chosen choose to leave their posts when they feel like it??? when they’re defeated by a challenger, what happens to them - a demotion, or do they serve under the ‘new’ chosen??? does the black army’s chosen change constantly because of their meritocracy + challenger system??? like, how do they deal with that, and do they announce their changes in chosen each council meeting??? each new question just snowballed my curiosity, whoops...

there were so many angles i thought of but i decided to settle for addressing the king-less state of the black army... through the eyes of a veteran who’s probably served many kings throughout his time of service as part of the black army’s chosen.

i gave this jack of spades character a name, actually - garret folner. maybe someday i’ll write him again, bc i actually enjoyed thinking about the present + past chosen interactions - maybe i’d think about that for the red army, but this time i find the black army’s side more interesting for this situation.

dec 29 // steadfast tin soldier

a zero/alice piece for zeroweek - i was about to post pt. 1 as a standalone, but then i just thought about how.... zero bought alice a gown.... but never got to dance with her at the day of the ball..... so i rushed to add pt. 2 haha!

with the addition of pt. 2 it looks cut short tho - i did think of putting a scene in between, but no good ideas came into mind bc i was too fascinated with the dancing scene... i swear at some point i will find myself writing a fic or a part of a fic that’s a dance scene for the rest of the ikerev suitors + alice....

this is the kind of fluff i live for, actually... i’m totally fine with the steamy content cybird throws during events + bonus stories, but if i were to be honest i say.... where’s my non-sexual intimacy????? the simple, wholesome stuff?????????????????

man, i feel hilarious for typing that out..... but well, i guess it’s a matter of different strokes for different folks, lol!

[twistedsinews]

F, I, L, M, S, and W! (I didn't mean to form a word there, but whoops)

F: Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

Oof.  I… have no idea.

My first instinctive answer was this, from Fuzz:

“What are you doing and why must you be doing it in front of a fucking camera.”

“You really want to nail this bitch?” Gat leaned in closer, and Faith turned her head towards his breath where it tickled her ear. “Think about it… nothing destroys a career faster than evidence of a turgid, illicit romance.”

“Torrid,” she corrected, on reflex, as she half-leaned, half-pushed him back to look up at him.

“Hm?”

“Torrid romance.”

“Nah, I’m pretty sure I meant turgid.”

Faith blinked at him, then shook her head, weighed down by sheer incredulity.

“Right,” she said, meeting his expression with a tight, wry smile. “You’re a big boy; far be it from me to tell you whether you’re allowed to whip your dick around on primetime television.”

Mainly because it’s the type of wordplay I have a lot of fun with and am proud of when it works out.  Whether anyone else ever finds it funny is a question, but I get the impression at least some folks out there like my writing, so.

I’m also inanely proud of the fact I got the “You’re under arrest for everything,” thing into a fic here, and I don’t know if proud is the word but I have a lot of fun any time I get to write drunken shenanigans like here.

OH!

This:

He dropped the board flat on the floor, and the pointy thing on top of it.  It danced and spun back and forth.

“Yeah, yeah, can you get me in touch with the guy upstairs?”

W-R-O-N-G-N-U-M-B-E-R

“Fine, then can you ring big red for me?”

T-H-A-T-L-I-N-E-H-A-S-B-E-E-N-D-I-S-C-O-N-N-E-C-T-E-D

“So it’s just you and me?”

YES

“Got any good advice on how to deal with women?”

NO

“Figures.”

was a literal last minute addition under the Yuletide deadline that made me really happy that it popped into my head when it did, because the visual was picture perfect and made me laugh.  And considering the weight of the rest of the fic, it was a nice light little capstone to it, too.

I: Do you have a guilty pleasure in fic (reading or writing)?

*snrk*

All of the tropes listed below?

Idk.

*think*

I guess maybe romance stuff.  I always felt really exposed as a kid liking romance stuff, so for a very long time I either suppressed it or pretended I didn’t, I guess.  I definitely read for the fluffy mushy feelings, but it’s still hard to admit that out loud.  (And then there’s the feeling that the specific type of romance stuff I like is somehow SAYING SOMETHING ABOUT ME AS A PERSON, which… nah.  But y'know.  There’s a reason I still can’t write teh lemons.)

Also, I mean, I’ve caught hell for writing fic instead of filing the serial numbers off and monetizing like a sane American should, so fic in general can be a pretty guilty pleasure thing even though it shouldn’t be.

L: How many times do you usually revise your fic/chapter before posting?

… … …I’m one of those people who revises on the fly while writing.  :P

I have a difficult time reading my own writing, but it’s better than it used to be.  These days I can manage a spelling, homophones, and redundancy check after I finish.

Perfectionism is dumb.

M: Got any premises on the back burner that you’d care to share?

…I have a lot, and I’ve probably forgotten some.  

For SR, I have four prompts left from like five years ago, all of them for Halloween and I should probably get on them right fucking now so I don’t miss it again this year.

I have a bunch of pre-Boss Saints one-offs with Gat, Dex, Lin, and Aisha (and occasionally Julius and Troy.)

I have a few longer ideas that I keep putting off, because I suck at writing longform.  One involves Faith’s stint in prison between SR2 and SR3 that lands the Saints under Ultor’s corporate branding.  Another is the Faith backstory fic involving a murder cult trying to avert the end of the world.

More road trip fic in general, on that latter topic.

I have a ‘Saints go to Japan [for contrived probably Ultor reasons]’ idea mostly just get them squaring off with one of Shogo’s cousins.  I have something involving the Samedi and how utterly fucked up a person can get on Loa Dust… I had a Zinyak’s Red Door idea, I don’t know if I wrote down enough of it to remember where I was going with it…

I really want to write more Oleg sometime.

See also: Asha.

I want to write a SR movie script before the actual movie comes out, for the lulz.  I had the core idea a good few years back now, I just haven’t gotten to it.

…and, yeah.  My SR folder has like 3 times as many files as the rest of my fic folders combined, send help.

S: Any fandom tropes you can’t resist?

Us against the world.

Our heroes either failing or otherwise coming within an inch of completely losing everything up to and including their lives before pulling it together for one last push to make it through.

Hurt/comfort.

Presumed dead.

A wide variety of romance tropes, including but not limited to: battle couples, UST, bickering to hide feelings, light-hearted teasing, heavy emotional defenses that only fully come down in private, heart-eyes in general… etc, etc.

Characters being coerced by the enemy in some way, especially if they have to do things against their grain or fight their friends or something for highest angst value.  Good people from the bad guy’s side switching sides.

Huddling for warmth.

All of the love triangles resolving to OT3s.  All the OT3s in general, actually.

…I know I’m forgetting some, I like a lot of tropes.  XD

W: Do you like more general prompts, or more specific ones?

I tend to like more general prompts, because the way ideas spark in my brain I don’t like to feel like someone really wants to see something specific ‘cause I’m just… gonna let 'em down somehow.

Even with general prompts, I sometimes get the feeling that I’m going off prompt, even though whenever I’m writing to a prompt is because the idea came from the prompt in the first place.

It’s my brain, I don’t know how it works.  XD

[aparticularbandit]

Current State of Bandit Fic

The last time I did one of these was on April 12, so it’s been about a month and a half.  I figured I wanted to do one again, especially since there’s been a lot more stuff started and to give general updates on what I’ve been writing, etc.

This’ll be under a cut, so apologies to you mobile users because I don’t think it does the cuts.  :/

Completed JTV Fics:

Carla

THE LAST CHAPTER HAS BEEN POSTED.  IT’S DONE.

Luisa and the Fox

I have one more chapter left to post, and I plan for that to be next month.

I do still plan on potential extended scenes in a different fic.

In-Progress Posted JTV Fics:

If You Lived Here, You’d Be Home Now

Still planning on posting at least a chapter a month until it’s done.

I’ve liked having these on alternate second Mondays with Luisa and the Fox with a chapter of Carla every other week, but given that the latter is done and the former is almost done....

Probably still plan on posting these on Mondays.

 There are at least fifteen twenty known chapters (as in I have a fairly good idea of what happens in those chapters) and past those potentially two more at least - and some of those might expand because I know me and this should all happen in this chapter! and then it ends up being longer than I thought.

Right now it feels like this fic is shaping up to be more like multi-chapter chunks/arcs.

So the first arc was Luisa’s first few days at Belle Reve, and that was eight chapters.

The current arc I estimate to have at least seven chapters (six of those I have a fairly good idea of what’s going to happen but there’s an in-between of what’s currently going on and the latter half of the arc - like there’s a time period that I don’t have covered that I think may have a chapter but am not sure).

The next arc has at least five chapters (that I have general ideas on what happens with them) but will probably be longer than that.

The next arc has at least four but probably five chapters (that I have a fairly good idea of what happens - two of those chapters may be combined into one, but not sure at this point).

The next chapter has at least two, maybe three chapters before a one-two chapter break, and then there will probably be more chapters but not sure exactly on how this one will go as well.

Okay so apparently that’s more like twenty more chapters.  Oops.

The general ideas are the same as they were the last time I gave the estimate.  It’s just that at least one other complication has been added, among other things.  This is more likely to be longer than shorter.

Jane: The Real Story

Still not planning to schedule updates but may go into the Monday update slots.

Still don’t know how long this is going to be.

I do have the season one arc fairly plotted (or, well, partially plotted because there was a lot that happened in season one and while I know some of what I want to do with this, there are probably other things I should address and haven’t decided yet).

I have season two better plotted.  Or.  It’s less like seasons and more like arcs.

The first arc is Jane + pregnancy.  This is your season one equivalent, but it’s fairly different from season one.

The second arc is consequences of lying about the artificial insemination.  This is your season two equivalent, even though it address some events from season one.

The third arc is dealing with the aftermath of those consequences and...takes place in two different locations.  This is your season three/four equivalent.

I’m not sure if I’ll have an equivalent arc for season five because by that point it mostly won’t exist but I suppose there’s at least one aspect I’d like to address from season five so.  There’s that.

Basically it’s better brainstormed.

Still planning on having this be flexible in terms of updates.  For now, at least.

The Adventures of Rose, the Baker’s Daughter

I still like writing fairy tales and still don’t want to be judged but for now, this one is not in the cards to be regularly updated.  Kind of like the Pokemon fics.

Not abandoned but not super high priority.

Aftershocks

Potentially goes into one of the Monday update slots but not sure at this point.

Have a general idea of things I want to happen in this fic but not enough to give a general chapter count.  This is a really new fic, so it’s still being brainstormed ish.

I do look forward to the Luisa/Lint scenes, though, and I do plan on this being very focused on just Luisa, Rose, and Lint.  I don’t really want it to be bigger than them at the moment, although it may expand after this initial first arc.  I’m not sure yet.

May have a companion piece in regards to the Rosalint fic.

Kind of like how Carla and If You Lived Here, You’d Be Home Now are companion pieces.  You can read them separately and they work, but if you’ve read both, you get more out of them...ish.  They reference and call back to each other.

Heart in Motion

Not planning on having a firm updating schedule with this because it’s comedy and comedy is hard for me (dramedy is a little bit better but not by much).

This one is harder to write because idk if I can accurately capture the feel of all the ODAAT characters (Lydia, in particular, may be hard).

I have a general idea of where I want to go in terms of plot on this one.

I do want to have some ODAAT-centric chapters that set up for later stuff; I don’t want to just focus on Luisa and Rose drama (although I definitely do plan on drama as a result of...primarily Rose, let’s be honest).  But I don’t want to make the ODAAT characters side characters because I want it to be just as much their story as Rose and Luisa’s.

Expect irregular updates for now because that’s probably what might happen.

Sleeping Habits

I keep forgetting that there’s supposed to be a second chapter to this.

My bad.

In-Progress Unposted JTV Fics:

Everything’s Coming Up Roses

No change from the last update as I’ve been focusing on other projects.

Shenanigans: Luisa and the Fox

Name change.  More like a rearranging.

The only change here is more brainstorming, tbh, insofar as connecting it to another piece.

I like companion pieces, and while one might assume that the fairy tales are companions to each other, right now it’s looking like they’re more companions to another, much bigger, project.

May take up a Monday update slot once Luisa and the Fox is finished.

Where The Lightning Splits The Sea

aka Roisa HP AU.

This is probably going to be really, really long.

The first book has an outline.  It should be...fifteen chapters long.

The second book has the beginnings of its outline - right now it’s at least seven chapters long, but that only gets us to the end of October.

The following books I have notes on stuff that I want to make sure to include.

I’ve started writing the first book.

Right now I’m in chapter three, and the book is already over 13k.  That should give you some idea of length here.

I have a really good idea of what I want to do with this entire series.

It’s just probably going to be really long.

Right now, the plan is to finish an entire book and then post the chapters as updates (probably on Thursdays as opposed to the normal Monday updates).

I hope to have betas for these, and I’d like the betas to have the general overarching outline of what’s going on...but maybe not.

Maybe should have different betas for this.  I’m unsure.

Also I should probably finish my HP series reread.  Oh well.

A Christmas at Longbourne

aka Hallmark Holiday Special

Projected to be five chapters long.

Hopefully to be posted on Mondays in July.

Because Christmas in July, y’all!

So.  Should probably focus on this and finish the rough draft but I keep getting distracted.

Currently with the second chapter.

University AU

Unsure on length.

Have a fairly good idea of overarching plot.

I think last time I checked I was in chapter...two?

But there was a prologue, so for y’all that’d be the third chapter.  Ish.

Probably won’t be a Monday update slot.  But could be?

Rosalint Fic

Yes, this is more considered a JTV fic than a Tick fic because it’s set in the JTV universe more than The Tick universe.

Right now I mostly just have bits and pieces.  Scenes.  Some fluff, some...not.

This is likely the companion piece for Aftershocks, probably, so.  You won’t need to read both to enjoy either of them but you’ll enjoy them more if you read both.  Basically.

Brainstorming JTV Fics:

Canon-Compliant Soulmate AU

OKAY BUT I WENT THROUGH SOULMATE AU PROMPTS AND IDEAS AND I HAVE A GENERAL GOOD IDEA OF WHAT I’M DOING WITH THIS AND I’M ACTUALLY EXCITED,

It’s still in brainstorming stage because.  do you see the above?  I’ve been doing a lot of writing on a lot of other things.

Brainstorming Non-JTV Fics:

Potential Lint/Overkill Prequel Fic

Just what it says on the tin.

Probably more a collection of one-shots that would follow like lightning.

Potential Timeless Soulmate AU Fic

Focuses on Emma.

Uses the same general soulmate timer world as seen in the Roisa one-shot that people liked.

Have a good overarching idea of this but want a few more specifics before jumping into it more.

Probably won’t use the time machine BUT plan on having other Rittenhouse funded research that they want to use to control people.

Potential Timeless/Noir Fusion Fic

In which Emma has amnesia and gets dropped on Lucy’s doorstep before Lucy knows about Rittenhouse.

I have ideas about this one and I like those ideas but still hammering out the specific details of the fusion.

Like I can’t just make Lucy an assassin.

Like Emma makes better sense if I fuse her as a combination of Chloe and Altena but she’s technically in Kirika’s role.

Like how do I throw the rest of the gang in here (and do I, considering one of the great things about Noir was that none of the main characters were men and the men who showed up were usually in minor or plot device roles)?

I really want to write this because Noir is so near and dear to my heart but....  Idk if anyone else will enjoy this, tbh.

[gadaursan]

Worldbuilding shenanigans for my self indulgent KHR x BNHA AU so far because I want to make the multichapter fever dream I have in my notes but I can’t until I have established rules:

Flame system is cancelled, everyone’s Flames are reconfigured as really strong, stupidly complicated, or actually well implemented Quirks. This is for my sanity. Fight me.

Rewritten Tsuna’s Dying Will Mode in general is either the most complicated Quirk to explain or the most awful Quirk to have because you literally cannot figure out its power unless you got killed a lot

Will write some sort of index long post discussion about this once the main 10th gen kids are figured out

I’m going to forget that the Shimon Arc turned into an absolute mess but I have no idea how I would have rewritten it... yet

I love Enma and Adelheid with all my heart, I just... have no idea what they’d be doing at that time

Daemon Spade is still an ass regardless of what plot would be a replacement for the latter half of the Shimon Arc

Tempted to make AFO responsible for the stupid shit the Shimons went through but would that be too out there and weird?

Trinisette is also cancelled. Fight me on this, too.

Shit I have no idea how Arcobaleno works now. Why did I do this?

Reborn still obligated to be a baby for a couple years before he gets to age properly ofc

I realized I fucked up really bad when I said Tsuna destroyed turned Vongola into a Pro Hero organization like...

How the fuck did the Vindice let Tsuna get away with breaking Omerta like this?

Did the Vindice die because All for One was like “gimme some of that dying will bullshit” but Tsuna gave him the middle finger and took his entire family/allies with him, maybe froze his ass just a little bit???

How the fuck did Xanxus agree to this unless he’s so fucking whipped for the Vongola after he got over his “fuck the Vongola establishment I do things my way” or he’s just interested in keeping Vongola strong regardless of who they side with????

In fact, how the fuck did the entire Varia decide “yeah mini boss is totally right let’s stop killing people as much and do all that fluffy cute hero shit”???

The only outcome I see is Lussuria and Mammon actually adjusting the best because Lussuria would be actually good at training/babying Pro Heroes and Mammon doesn’t really care how the money is made so long as they get money

Bel is a whole nother issue I don’t want to think about right now

I fucked up so bad hahahahaha shoot me

A side of angst because Tsuna turning the Vongola Pro Hero was probably a half stupid and difficult decision that likely lost some close allies and friends and family

Who died you ask? Beats me

Probably Iemetsu, not because I don’t like him, but he probably was on the top of AFO’s shitlist when AFO was tried to take over the mafia

Also Nono because somethings going to make Tsuna be Decimo for a bit and AFO would probably make it happen so he could try to influence this kid to take his side (it failed miserably)

Quietly calculates what would happen if I killed fan favorites too

I totally forgot why Deku would need to be involved with the Vongola aside from Tsuna going “wow my buddy Sir Nighteye was training these kids I wanna be friends with them and make sure they’re doing okay after he died”

Part of me wants to gamble on the Dad For One theory so Tsuna has some not so nice reasons to befriend Deku as an extra middle finger to All for One because he’d probably know all about it somehow

Other part of me says “ho don’t do it” because I hate writing with potentially jossed big theories

Will probably find a less speculative motivation later

How does Vongola still make so much money if not many ppl outside of heroes know who the fuck they are and they divested themselves of all most of the shady business practices???

IDK maybe they make the majority wealth from their business and support division who have a huge monopoly in the distribution of parts used for support equipment (ofc they won’t call themselves something as obvious as Vongola they’d be like something quaint like Giannini’s or something)

Like making a whole ass customized suit for a bunch of heroes on a massive scale is hard, there are proabably standard equipment and parts for things as simple as the containers that hold Bakugo’s sweat like no way one design company can make everything from scratch, customized or not

Or maybe the reason they help do dirty jobs for the Pro Heroes and get paid handsomely for it because they don’t fit in the dichotomy of the heroes and villains

The freshly recruited Vongola Pro Heroes must get along REALLY WELL with the Mafioso turned Pro Heroes /s

They probably adore the 10th Gen as bosses for being fair and sorta okay (?) people

Heaven forbid the ones that Xanxus brings onto the Varia like training for the Varia is probably like “forget all the shit you learned in school you’re gonna kill a dude for the Pro Heroes”

Either that or they’re probably happier about the slightly better freedom of not being held to the court of public opinion so they’re far rougher than the Billboard ranked Pro Heroes (I still can’t get over how Pro Heroes are ranked like pop stars in this world)

Oh my god Hero Killer Stain would hate the Vongola so much...

Probably may have to resort to potential major original characters to serve as antagonists for the fic probably to challenge the Vongola’s new policy to be more in line with heroes

Was potentially setting up a return of the Todougumi (mentioned in the Shie Hassaikai arc as having been destroyed)

Also likely some mafia family who resent the Vongola deeply for not honoring Omerta even after the Vindice could not longer uphold it

Tsuna probably has plans to not make the Vongola absolutely private after all and wants them to go public and so shit happens and it throws a wrench in those plans probably because since when has anything Tsuna done go smoothly?

The Public Safety Commission probably made Hawks work with Vongola to get pointers on how to properly infiltrate the League

I have not read/watched Reborn in years, so my memory of everyone’s characters is probably so out of whack where Tsuna is probs snarkier than canon and is a little nuts after too much exposure to mafia bullshit

[shipmvns]

Frank Sinatra Was That Girl

the truth is just that im a dumbass! idk what this is its maybe bad? idk i have a snow day and this is a sanvers getting over each other but together and also fucking on the low angst fic

Pairing: Alex/Maggie Words: 1,910 Summary: Everything is impossible; most specifically, love and everything that comes before and after. Alex is trying her luck between pretending there's a fresh start somewhere in the undergrowth and wondering how she can want two things at once when Maggie is the sun.

ALTERNATIVELY, READ IT ON AO3/LEAVE A COMMENT

“We can’t keep doing this,” should be, debatably, the last thing you want to hear right now, bated breath and bleeding whiskey through your pores, doing the doorstep drunk dance, waking up early enough so that it’s never a walk of shame, or otherwise always hovering beneath the smog of midnight because you’re an adult, you’re an adult, and you know you shouldn’t be doing this.

 But it’s Maggie, always comes back to Maggie, shining and beautiful and carrying half of your being in her hands like it’s nothing, Maggie, who was there until she wasn’t or until she’s ready to come back around again, Maggie, in your bed, in your sheets, lips on yours, forehead dipping towards you, her breath so loud in your ears, like you can ever forget- about her, about this, about before.

 Like it didn’t exist.

 “Let’s say it’s the first time.” You’re drunk. You taste lime and craft beer, and you’re crossing paths again when you shouldn’t be, not when the universe is against you. It’s freezing, and the lights around you are low and orange. “I mean, let’s say. Just for tonight.”

 You say it like an offer, she takes it like a promise. Like you can forget, like you can pretend until you’re dizzy and giggling or until you wake up and your head is pounding, pounding, pounding. Guilt cloaking you before it’s five am, and you disappear into the earth like you’ll never have to bother again.

 “Hi, I’m Maggie.”

 I know, you want to scream. You know, you’ve known, it takes up enough of your brain space to eat you alive, means more to you than anything, marks the empty space on your ring finger. I know your name.

 But, oh, God, how you’d like to play along. Act like it’s just once, like it never meant that much, or like you can make it all be one night long. Hit the reset button, you don’t love her, you don’t love her. Nothing is autobiographical; history doesn’t repeat itself. Perfume is insignificant, leather jackets are inconsequential, and nothing really matters in passing.

 Say you don’t have the feeling of her body on yours mapped out in muscle memory replaying in your head. Say you don’t know her middle name or what she looks like when she cries, what she sounds like when she laughs.

 You never wanted to get married, anyways. You don’t know what her hand feels like in yours, anyways.

 No- rewind. Again and again. Start over. A girl in a bar or somewhere else, you don’t know her. Isn’t that easy? Don’t you just feel so free?

 Okay. I’m Alex.

 Enough, it’s enough, it’s easy. Like there doesn’t have to be any history, or the world never fell down around you or anything. Like you don’t still love her, or never have. Like it wasn’t something so stupid and trivial that took it all apart for you.

 You’re fine, you’re fine, it’s all brand new. You taste salt and skin. You’re five years younger or older when you feel her touch, you don’t think about what will or will not help you get over her because you don’t know her, or have otherwise possibly never known anyone before in your life.

 She is the first, she is new and bright and fresh air, you will never suffocate again.

 No guilt, no dark, all stars. All stars as you disappear and end up back home in your bed. Never think again.

  It starts simple and new beginnings, but all old scars may show if given the opportunity, and every time you meet, it is with heavy heads and wounded hearts and far too drunk or pretending to be or fumbling hands all over and you’re sick of yourself the whole time, feel ridiculous the whole time until you come gasping up for air, but still, you miss the way she feels, miss the way the rhythm of her breathing swings in your ears as you sleep or pretend too, miss her eyes.

 “This isn’t a good idea,” she tells you as her hands travel down your thighs, hips, wherever, hear breath in your ears, always, always.

 “I know,” you say, which really only means shup up, either in morse code or beggar’s terms, and then she keeps moving like the world is ending tomorrow (maybe it is) and her lips are everywhere, and it’s like before, or like it’s all fine, or like the future doesn’t matter, and she’s the sun, it always comes back to her, the center of all love or everything that’s ever sent your senses into hyperdrive, and it’s like when she loved you, like before you had to worry or before you ever needed anything more than right then and there, it’s like no time has passed, like when you’re finished you’ll fall asleep together and wake up in her arms to a universe that is soft and kind.

 And, oh, the stars burn outside, no time has passed, no time has passed, you’re drenched in moonlight and you gasp, forehead on her collarbone, “I love you.”

 Heartfelt and honest and hurts in your mouth once you say it, something else that reminds you to keep your mouth shut, another palm driven into your temple. I love you, I love you, I love you. You shouldn’t say it. You should know better. She says it in the silence, you can feel it through the heartbeat on her wrist.

 She stops, body stalls. Everything was perfectly fine for three seconds, and you were bathing in it, so you had to go and blurt out the first stupid instinct in your constricted chest, like it wasn’t enough to ruin everything without embarrassing yourself, too. Without letting everything hurt, raw nerves and shaking shoulders.

 You would rather disappear.

 “You know that we can’t do this anymore. You know.” She doesn’t say, it’s why we broke up in the first place, or, if this were okay we would still be together, anyways.

 She knows, better than you do, what she can and cannot say.

 She lets you leave like that, doesn’t twist the knife. Looks sad, and you figure it’s either pity or a more personal pain, selfishly hope it’s the latter, forget you still love her, forget tonight and a dozen others, put a numerical value on life and love and the sun. The universe is only kind for three seconds at a time.

  You spent the next quarter of everything going between rage and whiskey, which, you figure, is just part of the grieving process.

 Blame is sour between your teeth but it’s the best you can do to not feel so terribly helpless. It shouldn’t matter, it shouldn’t matter. You know that, but it does. It aches, and you’re used to it and that changes nothing, which is maybe even worse.

 You don’t have time for that, don’t have time to fall to pieces over someone else, so hung up and irresponsible, how could you do that, how could you be that girl? You hated that girl, the one who came apart, or pitied her at best.

 Never had you thought you might be that girl.

 God, relationships had been so much easier before Maggie. Relationships and everything else, all of that is nothing more than a set chemical reaction, shouldn’t matter at all, basic science, love is math, it’s so simple, so why does it leave you like this?

 Whiskey and rage; Maggie’s fault. Before Maggie, you were on your own, always on your own, perfectly fine. You were a fighter. Independent. You didn’t need anything. You had your guard up until Maggie. Maggie, who was the sun. Maggie, every beautiful and unsteady in your chest. Maggie, who had hurt you before and then promised she’d stay, Maggie, who was always on the way out.

 Perhaps, Maggie had ruined you. You were that girl, you were pathetic. God. Because it came back to her, always to her, for the better part of anything that made your heart sing, it came back to her, and now you were ruined. Like you couldn’t be on your own anymore, couldn’t function like a normal person any more.

 Wild energy and indignant rage sent your thoughts swinging in a circle, and you knew better; you couldn’t be that girl, not over one girl. A single pretty girl is not the world, and commitment is not the end all be all to everything. You would rather be free.

 But, if that was true, then why are you crying?

  Despair and righteous protest eat away at you from both sides long enough so that every cell in your body starts to scream get over it! all at once, which really only makes you feel worse.

 When Maggie Sawyer shows up in your doorway a few drinks in, half past two in the morning under nothing but the faith that you’d still be awake, it is your best flimsy calling sign that we might all just be that girl.

 Her eyes are red and small, she’s leaning and apologetic, fingers drumming against her jeans.

 Isn’t there anything we can do?

 You’re tempted to ask the same question. She looks hopeless; you feel the same.

 You invite her in; you’re always inviting her in, you need to stop inviting people in. You know that. You thought she knew better than you, but her eyes are red and she’s following your lead.

 She sits down, repeats her question, you both want to cry, but don’t. Hands out and open, empty in the air, fumbling, always fumbling, and the whiskey is still there. You start slow and helpless, but after a while it’s yelling, too.  

 You air out your grievances, you dig out every qualm, old and new, go over everything you wouldn’t say eight hours before or after three am, write it all down and lay it out in front of your raw hearts until you’re both crying, until you can understand why it hurts like it does, and why it might never stop all of the way.

 You ask every question you can think of to a universe that is either ambivalent or apathetic because you can’t think of any reason not to, and there is fire in your chest until the two of you are bitingly angry at some ghost of a third party, until you can be a team, again, against everything terrible that may be stacked up against anything good and sweet.

 How can someone want two things at the same time? How can someone choose a hypothetical half possibility over something real and here and now? How could anyone be so stupid? Why is there so much friction everywhere? How can something so small destroy something so beautiful? Why does it have to be like this?

 It isn’t fair, it isn’t fair, it isn’t fair!

 You feel like a kid again in the worst way, but by the time it’s all over, there’s nothing left to fan the flame in your chest, and you wonder if that’s what they mean when they say catharsis before being too tired to wonder anything ever again, too tired of fighting something that will always win, and so you fall asleep in each other’s arms with the definition for the word bittersweet playing over and over in your head like a bedtime story and wake up alone, and then you inhale.