#if i add lol after a sad statement it will make it sound less sad right lol

[downbytheouterbanks]

Happy Place (Rafe x Reader) pt 2

a/n: Hi!! I just wanted to say thanks for the support for the first part of Happy Place I really didn’t think it was any good so it was incredible to me to see people enjoy it ((: Anyways, here’s part two, I had a totally different plan for the next part but then I got sunburnt like really bad and it gave me an idea (;

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The next few days blurred together, all you did was unpack and organize, never again did you want to have to breakdown cardboard boxes. You placed one final poster on your wall before stepping back and taking it all in, proud of your work and excited to show it off, you shoot Sarah a text telling her that your masterpiece is complete and that HGTV would be proud. As soon as your message switched from reading “delivered” to “read” your phone starts buzzing and Sarah’s face appears. 

“She’s alive!!” Sarah screams at you through FaceTime, making you laugh. “Now that you’re done settling in, we should celebrate! How about this weekend, when my parents take Wheezie to her first official tour of UNC, we have a girl’s day? We can do our nails, hang by the pool, and catch up! Plus, I know someone who can hook us up with some White Claws. You can sleepover and it’ll be like the good old days!”

“Sounds like a plan! I can have my mom make her famous chocolate chip cookies for us to much on while you fill me in on all the island gossip.” You offer up as you plop onto your bed.

“I can’t say no to that! Now give me ten minutes and I’m coming over for a grand tour of your digs. Plus we gotta pick out cute swimsuits to take pics in because a girl’s day is not complete without a photo-op moment.” She says before blowing a kiss to you and hanging up. 

It was Thursday when you had FaceTimed with Sarah and let your parents know that you would be spending the weekend with Sarah, and Saturday had finally rolled around. It was a classic hot and humid summer day in the Outer Banks so the walk to the Cameron’s house had you sweaty and ready for the pool. 

You let yourself into the house, instantly stripping down to your swimsuit, you yell, “HONEY, I’M HOME!” as you make your way through the house out towards the pool. You were only expecting Sarah to be home, which feeds your shock as you strut through the kitchen only to be met with Rafe slouched against the counter, eating a bowl of cereal. 

“Do you have to be so loud?” He says as he makes his way closer to you, giving you a better opportunity to take in his appearance, his sandy blond hair is disheveled and lays against his forehead, lacking the gelled-back structure it had last time you saw him. You don’t answer his question as your eyes shift down, taking in his tanned skin, exposed thanks to the overly-cut muscle tank he wore. He was about three feet away from you but his tall stature towered you, forcing you to look up to meet his eyes. A soft smile and a light blush grace his features as his eyes meet yours. 

“I didn’t realize you were gonna be here.” You respond.

“Someone has got to make sure you and the princess don’t burn the house down,” he chuckles lightly and then takes in your appearance. You had ditched your t-shirt and shorts at the door, leaving you in just your (Y/F/C) bathing suit. Sarah had picked it for you to wear because she said “it is the perfect combination of scandalous and tasteful” she then added, “your insta DMs will thank me later”. Rafe’s eyes rake back up your body to meet yours, he raises his eyebrows in a manner of disbelief, “Did you walk here in just that?”

You retort, “I don’t know did you walk here in just that?”

“Yeah, I live here”

“Well, aren’t you a lucky boy.” 

“Hey! Stop stealing her from me, this is a girl’s day!” Sarah exclaims as she makes her way into the kitchen. She grabs your hand and walks you out to the backyard, as she leads you out of the kitchen you raise your free hand and dramatically blow a kiss to Rafe, who responds by catching it and throwing it into the trash. You gasp and exclaim, “how rude!” before you are pulled out of his sight. 

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After all afternoon out by the pool, Sarah and you make your way inside to shower and get ready for a no-shame Barbie movie marathon. Sarah lets you use the bathroom attached to her room while she goes and uses her parent’s bathroom. As soon as the water hits your back, your skin is set aflame. You mentally kick yourself for not putting on sunscreen as you finish showering as quickly as possible, desperate to relieve the pain you’re in. 

Once you get out of the shower, you wipe the condensation off of the mirror and inspect the damage. You let out a sigh as you realize that the sunburn spans all over your back, out of your reach. You pick up your towel and dry yourself off, putting on your underwear and sweatpants, hesitating when you go to pick up your bra, deciding, eventually, to skip it and put on your oversized t-shirt. You look through Sarah’s medicine cabinet, finally locating your saving grace, a bottle of aloe vera. Stepping out of the bathroom you start heading in the direction of Ward and Rose’s room but stop once you realize you can still hear the water running, Sarah is still in the shower. 

Desperate for relief from the burning of your skin, you let out a groan and turn towards Rafe’s room. You stop in front of his door and hear music softly playing as you knock, “Hey, Rafe?” 

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“Can… uh. Can I come in?” You ask and almost immediately the door opens, revealing Rafe.

“What can I do for you m’lady?” He says in what you could only assume to be an attempt at a British accept as he opens the door for you and he walks back into his room. “Is the favorite Cameron sibling no longer entertaining you?” And then he lets out an exasperated gasp as he falls back onto his bed over-dramatically exclaiming, “Am I your second choice?”

You approach the foot of the bed and stare down at him while he just lazily smiles up at you, “Well, if you want to be technical about it, since Wheezie is not here, and you’re the only other Cameron sibling, then you would be my last choice.” 

He sits up slightly, “Ouchie,” he makes a pouty face and then points to his heart, “that hurt me, right here.” 

“Yeah, yeah, you’re so fragile. Can we stay focused, please? I am in PAIN. Can you please put some of this aloe vera on my back? I got burned really badly today.” You say as you toss the bottle onto the bed next to him.

“Yeah, sure. No-” and then his breath hitches in his throat and he gulps. You had turned your back to him and taken your shirt off, still grasping it in one of your hands. “No problem.” He manages to stutter out as he stands up behind you. 

Not thinking much of it, you weren’t really covering yourself up, as Rafe was situated behind you but what you don’t notice is the mirror in the corner of his room. Rafe is busy squeezing out some of the gel into his hands, and then when he gently rubs his hands with the cooling gel onto your searing skin and you let out a soft moan of relief, his head snaps up, instinctively looking to the mirror to see you. And, boy, does he see you. 

“JESUS, (Y/N/N)!” He breathes out, soothing touch leaving you back as his head snaps up, looking at the ceiling.

“What is your deal?”

“Can’t you cover yourself up a bit?! I saw you… A LOT of you in the mirror!” He says, and then your eyes widen, your arm that grasps your shirt coming up to grasp at your breasts, gaze shifting around the room to locate said mirror. When your gaze lands on the mirror, you admire the boy in the mirror, all red in the face and neck, head tilted up and away, a hand held up to shield his eyes. You turn around and using your free hand, reach up to lower his hand from his eyes, a sheepish smile adorning your features, your blush only slight in comparison to his.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to flash you.” You giggle softly and turn your back to face him again waiting for his healing touch to return. 

“Yeah.. uh… it’s um. Yeah.” He mumbles out, as he returns to rubbing soothing circles on your back, avoiding your stare through the mirror.

“You know you don’t have to act like you’ve never seen someone’s boobs before, Rafe.” You both let out a laugh and his breath hits the newly soothed over skin, and a pleasured sigh escapes your lips at the sensation. Rafe’s gaze raises to meet yours in the mirror, his eyebrows raised. 

“Sorry,” You clear your throat, “You just uh breathed on that spot and it uh felt… felt nice.” 

Holding his stare with yours, he finishes spreading a layer of aloe over your burning skin. However, as his hand leaves your back, a mischievous look flashes across his features. Suddenly, he fans his breath all over the area he just dampened with his touch, goosebumps raising on the rest of your skin. He pops his head back up to meet your shocked face in the mirror. You quickly turn, ready to bolt from the room to re-evaluate your feelings, but your brain is clouded and your depth perception has never been your strong suit, you turn right into the very culprit of your flustered state. 

Rafe goes to grasp your elbows and steady you, “Woah, there. You alright?” He chuckles, amused at the newly flushed state of your face. 

“Yep, all good. Good. Good. GREAT. I’m gonna go. Now, and uh wait for Sarah in her room.” You let out, avoiding eye contact with the boy that has undoubtedly got your heart beating out of your throat. You struggle to wiggle your way back into your shirt without the tit-show, again. Suddenly, an extra pair of hands guide your shirt back on you, his hands pulling it down your torso, and then settling onto your hips. Your head slowly lifts and your arms lower back down and settle onto his chest. You both stay here, sharing a stare packed with confusion, curiosity, and longing. 

Is it possible to feel absolutely paralyzed while also absolutely overrun by butterflies at the same time? You think to yourself.

“I feel the same way,” Rafe whispers. His response snaps you out of your daze.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize I said that out loud.” You say as you detach yourself from the entrancing hold you were in, backing up a few steps. “Okay, well. As I said, I’m just gonna go wait in Sarah’s room.”

“Okay.” You back up more with his response, he looked confused and you mirrored him with the same confusion overtaking your features. Desperate to gather as much space from the source of your racing brain, you turn to the door.

As you’re walking out you rush out a “thanks for the hold. FUCK. Thanks for the help.” And with that, you are walking as fast as you can to Sarah’s room to sit and mentally unpack everything that just happened with her brother. 

tag list: @drewsephsmiles @babygurlbarnes 

let me know if you want a part three and if you want me to tag you (:

[swinging-stars-from-satellites]

idk how many people would even want to see this BUT i wanna yell about Leela and Brax so here's a list of all their scenes togethr/scenes pertainng to them that i can recall (pLEASE add on if i missed anything/ you have any additional thoughts!! i could talk about these two all day!)

right off the bat in Weapon of Choice when Leela is on the outskirts of the Citadel and Brax goes to bring her back (which is interesting in and of itself, bc usually i would imagine a chancellery guard would go do that so what made Brax decide to instead??), Leela kinda goes off at him bc she's hurting and instead of trying to actually explain what's going on Brax doesn't even try to argue he just says "we need you" which is great bc Leela has that instinctive desire to be needed and to help people and he's speaking right to that -- also as far as we know, this is Leela and Brax's first actual meeting in canon? it's implied that they know of each other, which makes sense, but it doesn't seem like they've ever directly interacted before: Brax seems almost slightly uncertain, and Leela is combative, but when he's gentle with her she's actually quite receptive

the literal next scene after that, where the OT4 is all in one room for the first time (they still kinda hate each other at this point but still !!!). Narvin explaining Gryben and being a real jerk about it and Leela (understandibly!) questions if Gryben is a prison world, and Brax (who to this point has been mostly quiet as Narvin and Romana brief Leela) jumps in to both clarify Narvin's previous xenophobic statements while also maintaining the inherent questionable/negative connotations

(btw it's actually pretty important to note that Romana self-edits herself a lot when talking to Leela, especially in the earlier seasons; you can actually hear her revising the things she says to put it in terms that she thinks Leela will better understand. and i mean she does it out of genuine consideration for her friend associate but it often comes across as varying levels of patronizing. Narvin also obviously "dumbs things down" when dealing with Leela early on, but like... Brax never does that on any level. the only difference i can tell in how he addresses Leela vs how he talks to anybody else is that he seems much more kind with her than almost anyone else???)

their conversation about the Matrix in The Inquiry: this is REALLY important (and if you've ever talked to me on ao3 i've probably gone off to you about it lol) because it's layered. they're talking about the Matrix but they're also not because in answering Leela's question Brax is making a very thinly veiled allegory (which he outright states a minute later) to Time Lord society/politicians/most importantly HIMSELF -- he's actually strangely open about his morals/beliefs in this scene and i'm living for it tbh -- and i find it very interesting that even though he does directly explain what he means ("how do you know all this?" / "because i am a politician.") he also leaves it for Leela to work out the implications. like it's a very nuanced conversation bc there's double meaning in it and most people on Gallifrey seem to think that Leela is tone-deaf and can't pick up on that stuff (even Romana sometimes oversimplifies things to her) but Brax totally just lets her take from it what she will bc he believes her intelligent enough to understand. he doesn't think her any lesser because she's human.

ALSO on a secondary note to the above: the fact that Leela has a question/needed clarification (sorry, haven't listened to this in a while i forget how it actually happened) and actively sought out Brax to talk to about it?? like she knows Romana better she could have gone to her but i feel like Leela kinda imprinted on Brax and someone she can go to for help if she needs it; maybe it's partly bc she knows he's under marginally less pressure than Romana is but also the truth of the matter is that Brax was the most genuinely helpful person to her in the previous stories and that probably means a lot to her (esp. bc he acts like the essence of everything she hates about Gallifrey but he doesn't treat her the way she would expect from that). btw this topic is gonna come up again in a hot minute

that part where Brax gives her that information that might help her re: the Andred thing, even though he really probably shouldn't have done that -- it kinda makes me think about what he must have been like with Theta tbh???

actually this is mostly my own conjecture but there's some neat stuff in Spirit bc during the *waves hand vaguely* bodyswap dream sequence thing, Romana is very "!!!! Brax can help us !!!" which is tecnically Leela brain talking, so like there's the implications of the stuff i've said above about Leela having this idea of Brax where she knows he's someone she can go to for help

can u tell i'm soft for them

Leela sounding really sad/distracted when she talks about how Brax isn't there YES i'm grasping at straws but a lot of this relationship really is conveyed through the voice acting bc of how little direct focus there is on the characters. there's actually several scenes in Mindbomb where she mentions him and she outright says that she misses him during her discussion with Matthias

that implied scene with them in Mindbomb!! i have a Lot of thoughts about that!!! it's all conjecture and fanfic fodder!!! but the reason i mention this is because it seems pretty meta that out of the whole Gally Gang, it's Leela who first sees Brax when he comes back to Gallifrey and in turn she's the first person (besides Matthias, i guess) that he sees upon his return?? idk i just feel like that's somehow a meaningful detail??? also her reaction of utter shock after spending the entire episode missing him and how worked up she is when she tries to tell Romana, like I desperately need to know what happened in this missing scene MR RICHARDS PLEASE TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED

Leela insisting on going with Brax when Pandora starts hurting him and their whole conversation there is just. so good. like they're both just so soft and then when Darkel comes in Leela instantly goes into protective mode. like they just have such an open relationship bc Brax doesn't even try to be all pretentious with her, like he doesn't even try to keep up any facades when he's with her he's just very genuine and it really says a lot about both of them -- Leela is so good at seeing people, like getting down to the core of who people are and what makes them them (which is why she's good for Romana, btw, bc Romana has a lot of identity issues) and Brax is so tangled up in who he presents himself as that he barely knows who he actually is anymore but Leela can see that and she makes it so he can truly be himself and he doesn't have to hide. also she's so gentle with him when they talk about Pandora, she's very caring and empathetic and wants to make sure he's okay and i am WEAK

it's been a hot while since i listened to Panacea but I think i remember Brax being really soft with Leela when he first brings the gang to the Axis, like just sounding really glad to see her

ok other than the fact that Brax is lowkey relatable in Reborn (daydreaming fanfic about yourself/people you know? simping for Mary Tamm Romana? yeah mood, my man) there's that scene where they're first appraoching the Citadel on the alt!Gallifrey and it seems like none of them, and Brax specifically, have seen it from the outside in a good long while bc he's very in awe and he tells Leela that he wishes she could see it and he sounds sO hEcKiNg sOFT oh my word-

and once again with Leela thinking of Brax as someone she trusts for help: in Dissassembled when everything is going to crap she straight-up says that she wants to go find Brax bc he'll know what to do/be able to help

at the beginning of Annihilation when Romana is depressed and questioning if Brax truly was her friend and Leela INSTANTLY, NO HESITATION assures her that he was; i lost where i had her exact lines written down but she actually kinda goes off to make sure Romana gets the point

literally forcing myself to talk about this bc it makes my brain stall out but like,,, the Brax Hound in Annihilation,,, Leela being like "goodbye, Braxiatel... again" she sounds so sad and like UGH i always kinda forget how sad it actually is for them to lose Brax in Dissassembled bc like, it was so sudden and they didn't get to say goodbye and Leela is always losing people and i have many many feels about this scene and how all that emotion is made very clear in how they each respond to the Hound (might make a separate post abt this later if anyone is interested ::eyes::)

Enemy Lines is utter bullcrap about these two and I will never stop being salty about how they not only sidelined the very good, very subtle friendship they had in s1-4, but they??? made Leela acutally not trust Brax??? when literally this entire time she's been the one person who probably genuinely trusts him the most?? what the heck, David

I haven't heard TW3 or 4 yet but i'm assuming there's nothing worthwhile in those with regards to this duo (correct me if i'm wrong tho lol, i would love to be mistaken in this assumption)

TL;DR Leela and Brax mututally imprinted on each other and have probably the most open and healthy relationship within the OT4 and it is an absolute CRIME that nobody besides Gary Russell and Justin Richards cared enough to actually build on it in canon

[the-hopeless-haze]

I hope he’ll be a beautiful fool that takes my spot next to you

Pairing: Sonny Carisi/reader, past!Rafael Barba/reader

Warnings: lots of angst (I bring up Undiscovered Country.... soooo...) smut (it’s NSFW people lol)

Word Count: like 5k words? Idk it’s a long one folks but I deliver

Summary: Based on “exile” by Taylor Swift for @thatesqcrush​ ‘s Valentine’s Day Bingo! Basically the reader used to date Barba until she didn’t and ended up with Sonny. Rafael is less than pleased. This is a cliche pairing (for good reason! It’s so fun to write!) but I like to think I added a fun twist... Sonny is an absolute mess, Rafael is very jealous, reader is a tad bit vindictive. This can be read in conjunction with “Being Alive” but it’s really a detour and a very loose association... there are just references because it’s so hard for me to write for these characters outside of that lens since I’ve been writing it for so long. That being said this can absolutely be read by itself and this only works if Rafael and the reader didn’t progress as characters in BA anyway lol

Murderous rage doesn’t even begin to describe what Rafael feels right now.

Behind the anger, there’s a sadness, cold and hard as stone, but he won’t touch that. It’s so much easier to be angry at Sonny than deal with anything that has to do with you. And that’s fair, isn’t it, anyway? Sonny swooped in the second things turned sour between you and Rafael and didn’t even give the two of you a chance to patch things up.

Or you went to Sonny of your own accord.

Maybe that’s more likely, but that hovers too close to the ache in his chest and he doesn’t allow himself to dwell there. Instead, he lets his ire build up until it consumes him, shooting daggers at the two of you across the bullpen office.

The two of you had always been touchy-feely - you were partners after all, very close, but you’d trained Rafael to swallow his jealousy. Told him you didn’t see Sonny like that. And for the most part, he learned to believe you. So now, he has to wonder how much of that was a lie, how much he didn’t see between the two of you, because there’s no way in hell you’d allow Sonny to touch you like this if it weren’t precedented.

Yes, at work, no less, you and Sonny are sitting at your adjoined desks, but you moved your chair to squeeze as close to him as possible. His arm is slung across your shoulder, a relaxed grip, because he knows there’s nothing Rafael can say or do that would make you leave him. Your head is resting on Sonny’s vested shoulder, and you’re laughing at something he said, no doubt a stupid joke that only you would find the humor in.

Death would be more welcome, Rafael thinks, then curses himself for being overdramatic. Still, when was the last time Rafael had been able to make you laugh?

Olivia had warned him of this new arrangement, but nothing could prepare him for this. Didn’t Rafael matter at all to you?

You lean up to kiss Sonny and Rafael thinks he might puke. —- Maybe Sonny should feel more guilty for kissing your mouth like you’ve been his this whole time, but he doesn’t. Because now he knows without a doubt in his mind this is where you belonged. He can feel the weight of Rafael’s gaze across the room, but he doesn’t mind carrying it, shielding you from it.

He did feel awful the day you came to him, your touch freezing and clammy from the inclement weather that you traveled through to get to his apartment, and then you practically pounced on him, told him you wanted him - and what was Sonny to do? Say no? No, after asking you a million times if you were sure, he gave into a temptation he’d be lying if he said he never thought about before. Of course, Sonny always imagined being between you and Rafael - he loved both of you in different ways, and the two of you seemed like a package deal at the time his original fantasies started to occur - but if you alone were going to come onto him, he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to oblige.

Don’t sleep with your partner was probably the first unwritten rule in becoming a detective, but it’s not like Sonny was going to stay at the precinct, anyway. He’d take Rafael’s place in the courtroom, too.

Still, when you first came onto him, he did feel a twinge of guilt, like he was hurting Rafael and you at the same time, in different ways, but then you explained it all to Sonny. How you always felt insecure around Rafael, that you weren’t sure if he really loved you, that you weren’t sure if you really loved him, that both of you had so much pressure to make this work that it started to fall apart under the weight of all your expectations.

You didn’t have to wait for Sonny to say he loved you, and you didn’t have to doubt it, either. He said it for the first time that same night, and he said it so fervently that you pulled his body back into yours, moaning your own declaration of love back to him. Maybe it was too soon, but he’d spent over a year pining for you (and Barba) in secret, and... well... he wasn’t going to waste what would be his only shot with one of you. He wanted you to know you would be well-cared for in his arms.

If looks could kill, Sonny would be dead on the spot and he knows this. But he also knows that jealousy is a cross Rafael has no right to bear. He had his shot, and he blew it. He should’ve let you know what you meant to him instead of clouding everything in his anxieties, his anger, his burdens from his past he never could let go of. Whatever he did now was too little too late, and even if Sonny had feelings for the lawyer, you always came first, and those said feelings would now never be stated out loud unless he got enough liquor in him and he was feeling sentimental that day.

Sonny used to root for you and Rafael, but he was always an embittered cheerleader, standing on the sidelines wishing someone could love him the way he thought you two loved each other. Appearances meant nothing, though. Now that you’ve let him in, he knows what you had with Rafael was far from the heaven you deserved.

And Sonny is all too keen to give you what you deserved.

As you lean up to kiss him again, he stops you for a moment, smiles down at you in adoration, and you giggle, “What?”

“Nothing,” he grins. “You’re just so beautiful, doll. I love you.”

Rafael’s gaze strengthens in intensity, and you almost turn to look in his direction before Sonny kisses you firmly, a smirk playing against your lips. This has to be killing Rafael, and Sonny isn’t usually that vindictive, but it gave him some sort of sick satisfaction that he was hurting Rafael just like Rafael had hurt you. And, you know, show Rafael what he was missing.

——

Sonny’s kiss is so warm, so comforting, but it doesn’t stop the ice running through your veins - you know Rafael is here despite Sonny’s best efforts to distract you from him. And you meet his eyes across the room for the first time since the night the two of you fought with each other for what would be the last time, the night you found yourself in Sonny’s arms instead. Those eyes add insult to injury, because you still know Rafael, and even if he’s standing across the room you know what he’s feeling. There’s anger there, but deep down you know he’s crushed at having seen you move on so quickly, and with someone he suspected you might leave him for in the first place. And he’s trying to drag you down to his level, get you to sit here in his misery with him.

This could break you if you don’t steel yourself, so you squeeze Sonny’s hand for support.

Sonny’s in tune with your body language, having been your partner for so long, and he stands to full attention, asking you if you’re alright.

“I’m okay,” you tell him, staring down Rafael until he makes his way over to your desk. You swallow thickly. Rafael when he was angry was never pleasant.

“This is cute, hmm?” he says bitterly, nodding sharply at the two of you.

“I like to think so,” you reply coolly, smiling at him.

“Barba, I know you’re waiting for Sarge, but can you please go wait somewhere else? She’ll be out any minute and you’re bothering (y/n),” Sonny asks, forever trying to be the peacemaker.

“She can handle herself,” Rafael says, chuckling sardonically, rolling up his sleeves nonchalantly. “Clearly. She doesn’t need you to fight her battles. But if you’d like to...”

“Mm, please, Rafael, like you’d get your knuckles bloody for me?” you snap. “Grow up. Everybody moved on. It’s time you do too.”

Rafael’s visibly taken aback by your verbal assault but he only lets it faze him momentarily. “Right. Moved on. Only took you five whole minutes to pack us up and leave me with it and you’re out here spreading your legs for someone else,” Rafael hisses, and you can see the moment when he realizes he went too far, the moment the wrath in his green eyes fades into regret.

“Get out,” Sonny says firmly, raising his voice enough to turn Amanda’s and Nick’s heads. “Get the fuck out. I don’t care how hurt you are, get out. You don’t talk to women like that. I’m honestly... I’m disgusted.”

“I... I am sorry—“ Rafael fumbles.

“A bit too late for that. I’m not your problem anymore, Rafael, so who am I offending now?” You ask. You weren’t upset by his statement - you did move fast with Sonny, faster than even you were immediately comfortable with, and you know how it must look to Rafael, how it must feed the flame of his absolute deepest and darkest insecurities.

Rafael glances around the room and realizes he’s caused a scene. Without a word, he leaves out the side door, forgetting his meeting with Olivia. He’s seen this film before, and the ending? It’s not worth sticking around for.

—-

Sonny could spend hours with his face between your legs, and he did. It was almost like the man never stopped talking because he wasn’t nose-deep in pussy - but you kind of chuckled at that thought because he wasn’t quiet even then. He’s always moaning, making obscene sucking sounds on your clit, talking to you, sending delicious vibrations straight to your core.

You come again, moaning and tugging at his hair, and Sonny adds to his total, grinning up at you, his face sinfully wet with your juices running down his chin. “That’s two down. Think you can give me one more before I fuck you?”

“Sonny, fuck,” you whine breathlessly as he runs his tongue over your now swollen and overstimulated clit. “I need a break.”

You love it. You’ve never had anyone this enthusiastic about pleasing you like this before, and you’ve never exactly been a pillow princess either, but Sonny protested if you even moved a muscle when he was going down on you, instead he’d chuckle and tell you to save your energy for when you ride him later. Not that he needed to be in you at all - you swear he could get off just eating you out. You never would’ve pegged giving oral as Sonny’s biggest kink, but you certainly weren’t complaining.

Sonny laughs heartily, crawling up the length of your body to kiss you deeply, the taste of you branded onto his lips and tongue. You moan as he rolls his hips against yours, the cloth from his boxers creating a tantalizing friction and you buck up against him on instinct.

“Ah-ah,” he tsks, moving off you to lay beside you. “I thought you needed a break, doll.”

You sigh, nodding, trying to catch your breath, but how could you, when he was still on the side of you, whispering dirty things in your ear? God, he really did never shut up.

“He ever fuck you like this?” Sonny asks, a devilish glint in his eye. For a second you think he’d take it back, apologize for asking such an intrusive question, but he doesn’t, and you know it’s because he’s just gone down on you for half an hour already and he’s got enough testosterone running through his veins he could kill anyone who glanced at you. Of course he was in competition with Barba, especially when he was this riled up.

“No,” you murmur, and you’re not lying. Sex with Barba was great, obviously, he’s very attractive and he knows what he’s doing. Rafael was a damn tease, but Sonny? Sonny was so much of a sap he couldn’t bear to hold anything back, couldn’t bear to see your lip tremble in want for even a second. And no one had time to fuck the way Sonny wanted to, drawing everything out and making you come so many times with his lips and tongue before he’d finally enter you. It’d always take a few hours, so this was usually saved for Monday mornings when the two of you didn’t go in until 3, or Friday nights when both of you were too wired to sleep anyway. Sure, there were days you were pressed for time and he needed to have you so more often than not he’d settle for making you come quickly on his face before pounding into you, but...

Rafael was a good, thorough lover, and god, you’d probably miss his hands for a long time to come, but Sonny’s tongue was such a good replacement.

“You just saying that, doll?” Sonny asks gruffly.

“No, honey, of course not,” you giggle. “No one’s as generous as you.”

“Generous? Huh. That’s a good one,” he laughs, and it seems like that comment brought out the underlying sap in him. His clear blue eyes soften and he smiles at you. “Nah, doll, I just love you so much, and making you feel good? What better way to show it, you know?”

This was a complete mess, you realized that, but you were blissfully happy in spite of it. How could you not be? It’d been an amazing three months. On nights the two of you didn’t work, you were treated to home-cooked dinners, bottles of wine, heated makeout sessions that always led to something more. If you worked, you’d take long showers together, massaging the knots out of each other’s muscles until you were both too dreary-eyed to stand.

Sonny was clingy, sure. You knew he would be, of course, and you weren’t used to that - sometimes you questioned if Rafael even wanted you in the same room - and it’s with a sudden realization that you come to terms with the fact that none of your relationships worked out because you needed that constant reassurance that Rafael and so many of your exes were reluctant to give.

It’s so easy to paint Rafael as a villain now that it was all over, but he wasn’t. You truly, truly loved him, even if he never took the time to learn your love language or make you dinner or marathon-fuck you. He showed his affection for you in other ways, but they weren’t as overt and it always left you questioning what he really wanted from you.

And anyway, it wasn’t enough to counteract the wrongs he’d done to you. Always making snide comments about how close you were to Sonny, to Amanda, to Nick, even... and it was in those moments you wish he didn’t love you so much, that he’d let you breathe instead of keeping such a constricting hold on you. You knew what he was scared of, he’d been cheated on before... but you hadn’t done anything.

He tried so hard to snare you down without taking into consideration that you already were his. Or, at least you had been.

When he got down on one knee you knew it was over. For him to be that insensitive, after you’d just gone through an accident and were barely coming back to life through damn near mandatory therapy and rehab... you couldn’t take it anymore. Didn’t he see the signs? You gave him so many, but he just never learned to read your mind after all that time.

And you didn’t want to be his, at least not in that regard. He wasn’t asking you for the right reasons. He was making up for lost time.

You never told Sonny that Rafael asked you to marry him, because that would wreck him and make you seem vindictive, but you have a feeling that Sonny knew anyway. Maybe Rafael mentioned it in passing. It doesn’t matter. You’d never be his wife now.

You didn’t intend this to be a long term thing with Sonny, but now you were used to him being in every facet of your life, and you supposed you did love him underneath everything. It was always Sonny who was there on those cold nights equipped with hot chocolate and cannolis, always him making you laugh when you were miserable about a spat you’d gotten in with Rafael, always him damn near reading your mind to give you what you needed.

Maybe it wouldn’t last. Maybe the two of you would go down in flames, too. Maybe he’s only being this amazing because he’s wanted you this long and he wants to show you what you’ve missed the time you wasted with Rafael, and it’ll fade once you’ve stuck around.

But you don’t think so, because you know he’s always loved you like this. The only things that have changed since you let him in is that he fucks you now and he’s practically moved into your apartment. He’s never quite kept his crush for you under wraps. On the off chance this is just a honeymoon phase... you’d still take it. It was bliss for now, and that’s what mattered.

“You ready for round three, doll?” Sonny asks. “Or you wanna sit there and daydream about Barba?”

“W-what?” you stutter, looking at him dumbfounded. “I wasn’t—“

“Don’t play dumb. I know you, (y/n).”

“Are you mad?” You ask, making your voice small.

“No. It’s only natural, right? I probably shouldn’t have brought him up in the first place,” he says, shrugging. “Still...”

“Don’t, Sonny,” you protest. “You’re not his understudy. I love you—“

“I know. That’s not why I’m saying that,” he says, kissing you gently. ——

Sonny would never tell you why he was saying that; why he brought up Barba in the first place. This was a fucked up mess, Sonny knows that, but he can’t help imagining you fucking him like Rafael used to fuck you. You and Rafael both have such dominant personalities, and it makes sense why you’d always be at each other’s throats in hindsight.

One of you had to be more dominant, though, and Sonny gets the sense that more often than not Rafael won your battles. But Sonny won’t even put up a fight against you, and for a woman who was so used to losing... maybe Sonny was doing you more of a favor than he realized. You’re an absolute tease, brutal, really... Sonny doesn’t know where you get the sadism because you’re so kind-hearted outside of the bedroom... but he’s never quite had orgasms like the ones you draw out of him either, so he’s not exactly complaining.

Okay, maybe he whines a little when you don’t let him come.

Or a lot. Whatever.

It’s so worth it, for both of you, even if Sonny can barely take the heat sometimes.

Sonny imagines Rafael doing that to you, too, getting you riled up and soaking wet just to say you can’t come until he said. Or teasing you while you were working (he’d seen that happen a couple of times) just to leave the precinct and leave you rubbing your thighs together in a vain attempt to relieve the ache between them.

Sonny could just never do that to you, lord knows. For one, he can’t stand to see you ache for him while he’s right there, while he can just give you what you need from him. For him he takes pride in the number of orgasms he can draw from you, not how explosive or mind-numbing they can be (although he likes to think he gives both in quantity and quality). Sex is all about giving to Sonny. It always has been. Besides, seeing you fall apart on his tongue? It drives him insane. Maybe most men don’t get as enthusiastic about going down on their girlfriends, but Sonny truly doesn’t think he could ever live without it.

Still... didn’t you take a little bit of your partner with you, even if it was over? In a way, Sonny realizes, he does have both you and Rafael now. Just like he always wanted. Because when you maneuver him where you want him, get bossy in bed, that’s Barba talking. When you drag his bottom lip between your teeth, fiery lust in your eyes, he can just imagine Rafael doing the same to you, you looking up at him with hooded eyes.

His favorite’s got to be when you speak to him in Spanish, whisper “te amo” to him under your breath, because that’s purely Rafael’s influence and nothing else.

Still, you’re mostly you- and that’s fine. Sonny always loved you more, anyway, he’s always been closer to you, always been head over heels for you the second he stepped foot in the precinct and Liv told him you were his new partner.

Sonny didn’t see a point in hiding your relationship from the squad. You were wary at first - everyone knew you just broke up with Barba, and making this public so soon would be a source of gossip. But he convinced you... through questionable means (make a girl come enough times and she’ll do anything you ask). At the end of the day, he doesn’t think anyone truly cared, even if Amanda made a comment; “Guess she’s a hot commodity around here. When’s my turn to date her?”

“I’m never letting her go now that I’ve got her,” Sonny had replied with a grin. “You missed your shot.”

“I was kidding,” she chuckled. “Good for you, though. You’ve been in love with her for a long time, puppy dog eyes and everything.”

Sonny just beamed back at her, but he wonders how obvious he truly was in his affection for you before the two of you started going out. Was it enough to make Barba jealous? Possibly. Maybe that’s why Barba was being so absolutely vile and hostile toward Sonny now, refusing to let him sit in on his closing argument rehearsals and making sure to send more snide remarks his way whenever possible. Sure, Sonny expected that, but if only Rafael knew Sonny loved him too.... Maybe the wound wouldn’t sting as badly as it did. There wasn’t a chance in hell Sonny would say anything now, especially with the way he talked to you the other day (you’d think a lawyer who handles mostly sex crimes would refrain from slut-shaming his ex-girlfriend, but, apparently his anger truly did get the best of him). Still, he’d always love Rafael just like you always would.

Sonny knew there was always a chance that he was just a rebound, that you’d leave him to go back to Rafael, but time goes on and you stay with him and Rafael stays bitter, barely looking at the two of you. Years pass and Sonny tries to extend an olive branch every couple of months, but Rafael would rather eat poison, it seems.

Fair enough. You couldn't say Sonny never tried. ----

Rafael spent a few years feeling like an exile every time he stepped foot into the precinct - and it wasn’t fair in the least. He was A.D.A. before you even got your badge. If anything, you should be feeling like the odd one out now that the two of you were over. This was his city.

But you’re not his homeland anymore. You haven’t been, not for a long time.

It was a new kind of torture every day, watching you and Sonny get closer, closer, closer… Rafael kept searching for reasons to leave New York City that wouldn’t have to do with you.

And then he found one.

Rafael’s standing outside the courthouse, where he just got acquitted for infanticide. It’s bitterly cold, he’s wearing his tan coat that you’d rarely see him out of this time of year. And you come up to talk to him.

It was rare that you did that, anyway, you did your best job to ignore him unless you absolutely needed to speak with him. But now he gets the feeling it’s time for confessions, words you always wanted to say to him all these years now that he was leaving out the side door of your life for good.

It’s a strange kind of sickness, watching you move on more and more, seeing your stomach swollen with Sonny’s child, your finger gleaming with Sonny’s ring, your last name changing to Carisi.

“You’re really leaving?” you ask, pulling your coat across your belly - it wouldn’t stay closed with the buttons anymore. You shiver, sip at your coffee.

“I can’t exactly stay now, can I?” he asks brusquely. “You really shouldn’t be drinking coffee while you’re pregnant.”

You snicker. “It’s not your baby, is it, Barba? Good thing, too. Wouldn’t want her to come out wrong. You might kill her.”

“Oh, fuck off. I don’t need this to be rehashed,” he snaps harshly, bitter tears leaving his eyes. “Did you have anything else to say?”

“It’s decaf coffee, anyway,” you mutter. “I really thought you’d have left a long time ago.”

“Why, because of you?” he asks, laughing bitterly. “Are you really that arrogant?”

“You still look at me like you want to kill me half the time.”

“Just… I still don’t understand what went wrong.”

“If you don’t know by now… I really don’t know what to tell you, Rafael. I gave so many signs. And Sonny… he treats me well. He gives me things you were never ready for, and I… The way things happened… they truly were for the best.”

“For who?” Rafael asks, fighting against his body’s overwhelming desire to break down and sob. Hadn’t he learned by now, though, that there was no amount of crying he could do for you? Still, when you left him, everything went to hell. He tried to pour himself into his work, and this… watching you get and stay happy was salt in the wound.

“I think leaving will be good for you,” you say, ignoring him. “You can move on. Meet someone new. Get a new job. New start. You know?”

“I think I’m too old for new starts,” he scoffs, shaking his head.

“Won’t know unless you try, hm?” you ask, nudging him in the side. “You’ll make it. You always have.”

“Not with you,” he murmurs.

“No. But you didn’t need me. You don’t need anyone.”

“Is that what you tell yourself, to make yourself feel better for what you did to me?” Rafael asks, his voice breaking a little. He was always so desperate not to show vulnerability, especially not around you… but what did it matter now?

“Rafael… we always walked a very thin line. You have to know that we weren’t going to stay together even if we tried to. And why should I have to be miserable just because you are?”

He stays silent because you have a point and he’ll be damned if he lets you know that.

“Sonny loves you, you know,” you say abruptly, and Rafael quirks up an eyebrow. You laugh. “Yeah. He’s very testy about it, but I’ve been with him long enough. I know he does. You should’ve jumped on him before I had the chance. He would’ve taken you. He would’ve taken both of us, but… you and I couldn’t share.”

“You can have him,” Rafael says, rolling his eyes. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

“It’s just… you didn’t have to spend all these years hating us, feeling like a foreigner in your own city. We would’ve taken you back. You just didn’t want us.”

“I didn’t want the Carisi package deal. I wanted you. I dated you, not him. I loved you, not him.”

“First of all… I meant as friends. But also… Like you’ve never thought about it,” you tease, grinning at him.

Rafael rolls his eyes. “See, this is why we had problems. That’s not funny. Wandering eyes… that’s a problem.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” you say, shrugging. “Sonny’s surprisingly liberal. But that’s great that you were finally able to admit that your jealousy made me feel like I couldn’t breathe.”

“I’d argue my jealousy was warranted. I find it hard to believe that you didn’t fuck Sonny before you broke up with me,” Rafael scoffs.

“I didn’t!” you protest. “I’m not having this argument with you, because at this point, it doesn’t matter if I did or not, but I was nothing but faithful to you, Rafael.”

“Then how could you just move so fast?"

“It’s not like I just picked him up off the street. We’d been friends before.”

“Right. Friends.”

“Yeah. Friends,” you repeat sarcastically. “You see why we didn’t work out now?”

“Guess so.”

“You know, I do wish the best for you. Honestly. You deserve better than the cards you got dealt here.”

“You can say that again,” Rafael sighs. “I did really love you, you know.”

“Yeah. Sometimes that’s not enough. I loved you too.”

He takes a deep breath. “I wish you the best too. You’ll be a good mother.”

“Thank you, Rafi,” you whisper back, leaning over to hug him softly. There it is again; that cold bitter ache - when’s the last time you referred to him by that nickname? And now it would be the last. “Goodbye and good luck.”

"Yeah, you too," he says, rubbing your shoulder awkwardly, remembering a time when touching you was second nature. He watches you, your eyes make contact with Sonny's, and you turn back one last time to give Rafael a sympathetic smile... and that's the last time he ever sees you.

Taglist (lmk if you wanna be added!): @stormtrooperofficerbrowneyes @thatesqcrush @law-nerd105 @blackeyedangel9805 @moon-river-drifter @dianilaws @xecq @lv7867 @teddybluesclues @averyhotchner @houseofthirst @stardust-fray @lapaquerette @wanniiieeee​ @altsvu​

[logically-asexual]

Hold me like you mean it

summary:

Logan’s feelings for Virgil and the fact that now Virgil barely notices him are stopping him from getting any work done. Janus offers a way for Logan to cope, by disguising himself into Anxiety. but is this really what Logan needs? and what’s in it for Janus, anyway?

Alternatively, an angsty story about rejection, denial, and manipulation.

warnings: (for the whole fic) unrequited love, rejection, manipulation, unhealthy relationships, gaslighting, dependency, dubious consent and non consent for kissing, sad ending, depression (vaguely described), angst in general, nightmares, self harm. let me know what else i should add.

taglist: @gummibearbullet @chara-07 @the-sympathetic-villain @whatishappeningrightnow

Read on AO3

Chapter 7

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words: 1007

Janus’ room was as dark as usual. From where they stood, Logan could discern a bed, a nightstand, and the other Side with him, who was still looking at him with pity, and now had his palm resting on his cheek.

“I’m fine, Janus.” Logan tried, but the trembling of his voice and the tears building up in his eyes betrayed his intentions. Logan turned his face upwards, hoping to both prevent the tears from escaping and get out of the other’s hold. However, Janus quickly caught his head and pulled it back down with his other hand. Its thumb moved to press against the corner of his eye, coaxing the drops of fluid to fall. Logan winced from the pain, but relaxed slightly when the same thumb soothingly wiped the tears away.

“Tell me the truth.” It wasn’t a question.

Logan swallowed, and avoided Janus’ intense gaze. “You heard him. They don’t care about me. I made the greatest effort, tried the best I could, drawing upon all the knowledge I have about them, and I still made things worse. I always do. They don’t want me... Virgil doesn’t want me, and it’s my own fault.” He attempted to stop his voice from cracking again, but it was becoming harder with every word. “But I knew that already, and I got what I wanted, didn’t I? They never invite me in, but they listen when I speak. I have less work to do now, since Thomas gave up on following deadlines or a schedule, I don’t even have to try to participate in their games.” He began to feel the pain of his nails digging into his palms. “They don’t need more of me, I can spend my time on my own without dealing with the others’ antics. I wanted this. Isn’t that enough? Why isn’t it enough?!” He looked pleadingly into Janus’ eyes, blurred by the liquid in his.

“Because you’re stupid, dear.” The contrast of his words and the soft caressing on his cheek was confounding enough to stop his sobs. “We’ve been over this so many times. You don’t need them. You’re better than that, and you already have me.”

Logan exhaled, pondering what Janus said. He was right, he had helped him more than anyone else.

“If they don’t want to reciprocate your efforts, then why try?” Janus’ sweet voice almost made him dizzy. “If what you provide for Thomas without being there physically suffices, then why go out and exhaust yourself like this? It’s not fair to you.”

Logan sniffled, turning his head back again towards the ceiling. This time, Janus let go of it and moved his hands to his shoulders instead. He breathed shakily for a moment, letting the other’s words sink in. Then, he sniffled once more, and fell into his arms, crying freely against Janus’ shoulder.

He didn’t remember the last time he cried, not like this, but he was grateful to have Janus by his side now. Such a display of vulnerability was hard to bear, but he felt relieved nonetheless, and trusted Deceit to care for him.

Janus gently moved them to sit on the bed, with him leaning against the headboard and Logan still on his shoulder, and took his glasses from his face to set them on the nightstand. They stayed like that for a while, Janus petting his head as Logan let go all the tears he had been holding back.

Logan thought about the list of effects he had noted from Deceit's room. There, Janus could control lighting, sounds, his own appearance and voice to make disguises even more convincing than outside, and even the others’ movements, turning them to look where he wanted them to or stopping them from talking. But he couldn’t control Logan’s feelings. He knew. He knew this was all his own.

Eventually, his sobs died out, and he was able to breathe steady again, feeling too weak to move. When Janus noticed this, he cradled his face in his hands once again, and guided it to meet his gaze.

“You will be alright, sweetheart. As long as you’re here, you are safe.” He punctuated the statement with a cold kiss on Logan’s forehead.

After a pause, he shifted his position to get a little closer, and pressed his lips delicately to each of his cheeks. The cool touch was a strong contrast to the warmth of Logan’s face, but in his dazed state, he made no move to stop him. Another pause. Logan closed his eyes, letting the last teardrops fall as Janus finally sealed their mouths together.

Logan tiredly kissed back, the way he had learned throughout the past couple months, and barely flinched when he felt Deceit’s forked tongue lick his lips. Without thinking, he opened his mouth, and felt his mind fog as he let him continue.

Janus wasn’t wearing a disguise, he reminded himself of that, but he found that he didn’t care. It had been a while already that he had wanted Janus more than he wanted the original object of his attraction, seeing through his mask, no matter how convincing. Logan just hadn’t fully accepted it, but it was evident. He liked his sarcasm, his determination, his sweet words, the way he would gently take Logan’s glasses off and tell him he didn’t need them when he was with him. The real Virgil he had been pursuing was nothing like that.

He raised his hand to carefully brush his fingers against Deceit’s scales, the sensation just as eerie as it was comforting. Without breaking the contact, Janus pushed him slowly to lay back on the pillow and kept kissing him, stealing his breath with every movement of his tongue.

Logan couldn’t tell how much time had passed when Janus finally pulled away, but he was too drained of energy to mind. He opened his eyes, and was met with complete darkness, now only able to feel the bed underneath him. He took a deep breath and gave in to slumber.

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notes: i had been daydreaming what happens here for months and it's what inspired me to write the entire thing lol. i hope you guys like it.

also check out this little drawing i made of this chapter 👀

[spookybias]

ᝰ frozen ideals | park sunghoon ˎˊ˗

paring: park sunghoon x gender neutral! reader

genre: slice of life ─ fluff, slight angst

content: idol! sunghoon x figure skater! reader, more than friends but less than lovers au, i ramble a bit about what a home is.

synopsis: sunghoon revisits the ice rink, and after seeing you, begins to have doubts on what he really wants in life.

word count: 2.7k

note: this only took a couple of days, so it’s not my best work. i kind of overdid it i guess? this was supposed to be short, but i just couldn’t stop. i also cried while writing a couple of paragraphs of this lol. one more thing, i’m not the best with endings, so i’m not sure if you guys will understand it. it is happy, though.

SUNGHOON DIDN'T VISIT THE ICE RINK AS OFTEN AS HE BEFORE. During his figure skating career, he was often at the ice rink at least 3-4 times a week. Sometimes before school hours, other times after school hours, and many times during school hours. If he thought his life as a professional figure skater was busy, his belief had changed once advancing from trainee to applicant to contestant, and finally, to idol.

Sunghoon’s time was divided between training, schoolwork, competitions, and every now and then, interviews.

His schedule was now made up of all the tasks of a predebut idol. There were photoshoots, interviews, and vocal and dance practices to attend. His free time was given away, -but only out of love for his fans- to sudden vlive sessions and random social media updates. he rarely ever had time to himself nowadays, as even what was left after all of his daily routines and weekly events was often used to eat, freshen up, and rest. And none of this would compare to the schedule that was to come once him and the boys made their debut.

There were times where he thought back to his days on the ice; what would life be like if he hadn’t quit figure skating?

It had been a long time since he had visited the ice rink, and while all the other boys used their one free day off in a while to visit their family back home, or to hang out with their old friends at their favorite place, Sunghoon found himself back at the ice rink. But who’s to say that this favorite place of his that he spent many times at alone, wasn’t his home?

Home isn’t where you live. No, that was your apartment, your house, your condo or your space at the shelter, maybe even the streets. Home is the place that provides you with a sense of security, an overwhelming amount of happiness, a much more avaliable version of cloud 9. Even when you’ve been there twenty times in one week, forty times in one month, the place still feels like a new visit each time. That’s a home.

Often, it isn’t what you do at said place that makes it a home. It’s the safe space founded by the very things about that place that make you happy. The angle at which the lights hit, the background noise that boasts behind you when you’re having fun, the people inhabiting the environment. All these things still feel new, but recognizable every time you visit.

This was the case for Park Sunghoon. You were his safe space.

The ice rink was nearly empty except for you, your coach, and the advisor who kept watch to make sure there weren’t any mishaps in the rink. This wasn’t meant to be a private meeting. You almost always arrived as soon as the rink opened, and so there were never really people there.

Sunghoon had shown up out of the blue after waking up with a sudden urge to visit the rink. It wasn’t until he stood in the seating area, looking over the frost, did he realize how much he missed. He remembered the goosebumps that grazed his skin when the chilly air hit his bare arms and the numb feeling you get on your butt when you land on it after falling back.

He longed for it all, but maybe not enough to quit his new career.

You noticed the lanky boy outside the rink after landing a toe loop. You were a skater, sure, but you weren’t the most coordinated one. You had often made it to competitions with Sunghoon, but you wouldn’t ever make it as far as he did. Still, you loved ice skating, and you would only get better.

That being said, you hadn’t gotten better just yet and were easily distracted. Skidding to a halt, you cheerfully waved to Sunghoon. “Hi, Hoonie!” That meant your eyes were off the cracking ice in front of you, and you tripped, flying forward.

Sunghoon rushed out onto the ice, panic gracing his features. He was accustomed to the ice, and carefully but quickly made it to you in his converse.

“____, are you okay?” Sunghoon didn’t wait for an answer, wrapping one of your arms around his neck and hoisting you up bridal style. “I haven’t seen you in months, and when I finally do I cause an accident.” He shook his head.

You chuckled at his self-disappointment. You waited for him to put you down on the bleachers before telling him, “It wasn’t that big of a deal Sunghoon. I’ve fallen hundreds of times. Ninety out of a hundred of those times, you weren’t there to help me.”

“If it was no big deal, then why did you need me to carry you off the ice?”

You smiled mockingly, eyes shut tight and lips pressed together, a compressed smile at its finest. “I didn’t. I just wanted a free ride.”

Sunghoon shook his head, laughing. His laugh was light like a feather, quiet like a baby’s snore. “You always were lazy,” He replied jokingly.

“Hey! I’ve been practicing really hard! Someone has to take your place, remember? And you’re not here to coach me anymore.”

It was true. After word got around that the Park Sunghoon had quit his career as a professional figure skater, everyone in you guys’ age range seemed to be fighting to be known as the best. For awhile, Sunghoon offered you tips and techniques for mastering his most known tricks. You were someone dear to him, and even when you guys were competing against each other, he secretly hoped you’d do better than him.

The young boy only got busier, though, and could no longer help you train.

“____!” You were snapped out of your conversation by your coach, Eunkyung. She walked up to the two of you. The way she eyed Sunghoon -a look of disbelief mixed with digust- made you gulp. “Stop fooling around. He isn’t here to train you anymore, therefore, he’s wasting valuable time.”

You knew how Eunkyung felt towards Sunghoon. She had dreams of making it as big as him when she was the same age, but couldn’t due to financial situations. Seeing someone who had everything she wanted in a figure skating career give it all up irked her soul. She had openly voiced her opinions on Park Sunghoon to you and the other trainees.

“Please, Eunkyung.” You begged in a low voice, but Sunghoon could still hear. Something about you begging Eunkyung to let him stay made his heart flutter. “We hardly see each other anymore. I really missed him.”

That was it. Sunghoon’s ears were suddenly on fire. When had you gotten so bold?

“Fine. Thirty minutes. Don’t expect another break today because this is the only one you’ll be getting.” Eunkyung walked off muttering something about ungrateful teens and the next competition being in three weeks.

You began to move from the bench Sunghoon had dropped you off at, but immediately sat back down, a hiss escaping your lips.

“You said you were fine.” Sunghoon placed a protective hand on your shoulder, as if the pain was a person making their way towards you.

“I am fine.” You stared out onto the ice trying to wiggle out the static shooting through your leg.

“That isn’t the kind of sound people make when they’re fine, ____. I’ll get Eunkyung.”

“No.” Your voice was firm. “It’s just a cramp, Sunghoon. You know figure skaters get cramps.”

Sunghoon stood quietly, looking down at you, but you avoided eye contact. “Okay.”

“I get them a lot. Eunkyung says it’s because I don’t stretch enough beforehand. We used to stretch together, remember? But you’re not here anymore so I forget.” The statement sounded more spiteful than you intended.

Sunghoon wondered if you were mad at him, and hiding your anger with fake excitement towards seeing him again. Did you secretly wish that he had never come back?

You kept bringing up the past and reminding him that he wasn’t around anymore. It was times like these where he questioned what he really wanted.

The two of you sat in silence. Just basking in each other’s existence was enough. That’s what was so mesmerizing about your friendship. Sometimes all the two of you did was sit next to each other, and it felt like so much fun.

“It’s been awhile, huh, ice prince?” You broke the silence and smiled playfully. “Did you miss me?” Your tone was teasing when you asked, but deep down you knew that if the answer was no your heart would shatter.

Sunghoon didn’t bother to even fight back. “Yeah, I did.” He liked it when you called him ice prince. It could get him to admit anything. It could even make him admit he was in love with you, but you didn’t need to know that.

“You never text me anymore.” He couldn’t figure out if it was a normal statement or a sad one. “I know you’re busy, though.” He exhaled being grateful for that add-on. “What’s it like?”

“I love it.” Sunghoon simply stated. You hardly even finished asking the question when he had answered. “It’s a lot of work, and sometimes I can’t believe I made it, but I love it.”

“You love Jake especially too, right?” You teased.

Sunghoon rolled his eyes. “Shut up.”

“You know I’m kidding,” You shook your head, laughing. Sunghoon missed hearing your laugh. The audio recordings from old videos of you two together just weren’t enough for him anymore.

“You know you’re the only…” Sunghoon trailed off and looked away. Talking about his feelings for you was difficult for him. It was difficult for you too. You didn’t need him to finish his sentence. Of course, you often needed reassurance that you hadn’t been replaced, but just the first few words of his statement were enough. You knew what he meant.

He was the only one for you too.

“Do you think what I’m doing is right?” Sunghoon suddenly questioned. For some reason he was holding back a sob, and he wasn’t sure why.

You stared at a scrape in the ice for a moment, before finally turning to the boy of your dreams. “Yes.” You nodded your head, smiling. “I watch your vlives and read your interviews and I retweet all your photos and cheer on all your moments.”

A single tear slipped down your cheek. You were happy for Sunghoon, but it hurt that he was doubting his desires after a long time of trying to prove himself.

You continued, “Sometimes my friends tell me I’m whipped, but I’m just really happy for you, Hoonie. So please don’t doubt yourself.”

Sunghoon was glad that only one tear had escaped. He didn’t want you to cry over him. “There are days where I try to imagine what life would be like if I was still here. Skating with you and everyone else.”

You replied almost instantly. “Well stop imagining those things. You’re not here anymore. You can’t let what you thought you wanted interfere with what you really want. You didn’t leave anyone or anything behind. It’s not like you forgot about this place. We still love you, and we’re rooting for you and always have been. You spent so long trying to prove yourself to everybody. Don’t let those years be in vein. If you quit, I swear I’ll-”

“I’m not going to quit.” Sunghoon stopped you. “If you’re proud of me, then I must be doing the right thing.”

You let out a breath and smiled, turning away from the boy once again. “Ideals change, ice prince. You’re allowed to change.”

Sunghoon looked over at you, noting how you avoided eye contact. He found it really cute. “Thank you, ____.” The two of you shared a smile, and then Sunghoon looked down to your left leg. “How is it? Is the cramp gone?”

You stood up, wiggled your left foot, and hopped on your left leg for good measure. “Yep! Think we can go around the rink for a bit before my break is up?”

Sunghoon’s cheeks turned pink. “Are you asking me out?”

You tightened your laces and laughed. “I would never."

SUNGHOON SKATED BESIDE YOU. This wasn’t a date. Despite your hands clasped together tightly but comfortably and the statements shared between the two of you earlier, you and Sunghoon were not a thing. The two of you were just a couple of friends who almost had something due to your shared interest and quiet bonding. You loved each other and it wasn’t complicated, but it was uncharted territory neither of you were ready to enter.

You skidded to a stop. “I’ve been practicing really hard,” You told Sunghoon again. You skated circles around him. “Eunkyung says that with a couple more months of training, I can make it farther than you ever did.”

“Is that a threat?” Sunghoon began following after you, the two of you facing each other, skating sideways to form a small circle around the spot you guys had just been standing in.

“Yes, it is.” You stuck your tongue out at him. “But seriously. It’s so much work ‘cause you’re known for doing the most.” You rolled your eyes, remembering the countless laps Eunkyung made you skate around the ice rink. You brightened up when you remembered something else. “I’ve been getting a lot better at salchows, though, which we all know I am terrible at. Look.”

Sunghoon watched in amazement as you skated around the rink, performing salchows over and over again. Your landings were a little slopping, but you could easily fix that.

“I wanna show you something else before you go.” Suddenly Sunghoon remembered that he had to leave soon, as your break would be up, and he had to see his mother in a bit. He followed you out the ice rink.

You opened your backpack, which Sunghoon had just now noticed was left out on the bleachers. He would have to remind you not to do that. If the rink got crowded, someone could steal your stuff. You pulled out a black notebook and handed it to Sunghoon.

He opened the notebook, puzzled at the lines and numbers all over the pages along with little doodles. However, his confusion went away once he realized that the little doodles were diagrams of figure skating tricks, and the lines and numbers all matched up to physics calculations.

“After you left, I honestly forgot a lot of your tips. It was hard using your methods without you being around to coach me.” You looked down at your hands. “I take physics in school, so I’ve been using it to help me with figure skating.”

Sunghoon was in awe. In his mind, he had been selfish to keep wishing he could be back at the rink just to help you. If he had stayed, he would just be stopping you from finding your own techniques, from realizing your full potential. He now realized that he didn’t have to keep worrying about if you were okay. You were doing just fine without him, and although that thought would be negative to most, Sunghoon was proud of you.

“____, this is amazing.”

“You don’t think it’s nerdy?”

“Of course not. You’re a genius,” Sunghoon stated. The embarrassment that had just filled your senses was quickly replaced by fluster. “Um, thanks, Hoonie.”

The two of you continued to flip through the book together, you pointing out tiny notes that you wanted Sunghoon to see, and him asking questions and nodding his head in intrigue. Sunghoon flipped to the most recent diagram, and examined the page.

“What’s this?” Sunghoon pointed to a diagram of a trick he had never seen before.

“Oh! Eunkyung says that if I want to stand out I should combine a couple of moves and form my own tricks, and name them something cool. I need to show the judges how I stand out from the other contestants.” You looked over the page, and caught a small note in your handwriting. Suddenly feeling nervous, you tried to change the subject. “Uh, why don’t we skate some more.”

Sunghoon glanced at you before scanning the page once more. And then he saw it. The diagram was a mix of a salchow and a toe loop, two moves Sunghoon was very much known for perfecting. Under the diagram were two words that made Sunghoon’s heart flutter.

Ice Prince.

[themurphyzone]

PatB: Snowball Ep Talk

You know, I really do love the episode Snowball (my personal favorite AKOM episode) but I don’t think I’ve ever talked about it here much, and if I did it’s probably really only because of the flashback sequence. 

Okay so all looks good so far. Chain letter scheme and superstition, a standard introduction to Brain’s latest plot of world domination. All looks good. Plus I just like this shot of Pinky. Don’t mind me, just starting off light here with a smushed Pinky. 

I just like Pinky’s pose here. He’s so cute. 

You will bow before Troz.

“I met a Snowball today! Right here in the lab!” -Pinky

You know, I just find the implications of this line hysterical. This means that Snowball was in the lab that day, waiting for the moment to strike, and he definitely pushed his stolen chain letter through the mail slot. 

And then he lets Pinky see him, and no it’s not just a passing glance either cause Pinky specifically describes a tattoo with an A and a circle and points to his leg. Which means Snowball deliberately lifted the fur on his leg and showed his tattoo to Pinky. 

Like, wow. 

“It means, Pinky, that evil lurks among us. By the name of Snowball! SNOWBALLLLLLLL!” -Brain 

Talk about a bad breakup. *Alexa play Bad Blood*

Personally I think one of the interesting visual cues is that Snowball purposely plants himself into the mice’s space. There’s a lot of that in this episode. He knows how to rile up Brain and hit him where it hurts, namely through Pinky. 

Brain values his personal space, and he values a sense of control. When Snowball invades that space, Brain loses control, and his anger can lead him to make some very ill-informed decisions. Which is exactly what Snowball aims for. 

“You think Pinky is an asset?” 

“Anything I can take from you is an asset.”

Ah yes, Snowball’s mission statement. Crush everything Brain has into dust. 

The flashback sequence. Dear God this flashback sequence. They were both so cute! 

You know, it’s really sad that a younger Brain acted more like Pinky. Making silly faces and trying to get someone to laugh are such Pinky things to do. I know canon is loose but if you consider this flashback taking place shortly after Brain was captured from the wild, then young Brain didn’t gain a grasp on what happened to him until after the gene splicer.  

Ok but Brain was literally right there when the gene splicer exploded. Imagine having your cranium size dramatically increase, you’re injured, you’ve suddenly gained sentience, and as if all that wasn’t enough, you see the gene splicer explode with your only friend inside. 

Oh, and said friend’s mind was probably damaged in the explosion and now he hates your guts. And though you’re angry with him for his betrayal, some part of you will never stop caring about him. 

Once again, Snowball needs to learn to keep his hands to himself. 

This conversation here establishes Snowball as the perfect third character. He appears only in a handful of eps, but he’s fun to watch and love to hate. Snowball challenges the mice’s relationship. Snowball sees the weak points; the insults, the reliance on each other, and twists them to his advantage. And Pinky even admits he’s hurt by Brain’s insults occasionally, though he still loves being around him. 

“Pinky, the Brain doesn’t care about you. He’s just using you.” 

“No, he’s not.”

It’s really interesting to me how Pinky denies Snowball’s statement, yet his ears go down to show that he’s affected by the idea of being used. Pinky and the Brain may be night and day, but one thing they do have in common is their tendency to deny certain things. Brain with emotions and affection and Pinky with concepts he’d rather not admit the possibility of. 

Coming back to this later. 

Non plot related but Brain is teeny tiny and I love how he just trusts Pinky to catch him

Side note: I apologize if any of these screenshots look weird. It’s an AKOM ep. 

WHY ARE YOU TWO SO BAD AT SNEAKING AROUND. 

I just find it hilarious how they clearly run around where Snowball can see and hear them. Like they just shout Snowball’s name in the middle of the room. You’re terrible at being sneaky little mice. Please. 

Those dang boomers and their old timey 90s computers. Technology is ruining boomers. Can’t even hold a conversation anymore cause they keep looking at their screens. 

No touchy! 

Well, it’s awful nice of Snowball to engage in nepotism and offer Brain a position in his administration...and then tempt Pinky with an amusement park when he refuses. 

You really gotta appreciate the complexity of Snowball’s plans. Stealing the chain letter fails->plant seeds of doubt in Pinky’s mind, even if this doesn’t work right off the bat, the idea will still be there-> take over a corporation->impersonate Bill Gates->When the mice show up, offer to co-rule the world on expectations that Brain will refuse->make co-ruler offer to Pinky->wait for Brain to open his big mouth and drive Pinky away. 

All to take everything Brain has. His dignity, Pinky, his meager resources. Like holy Snowball, Batman.  

And then Snowball reveals the amusement park he had specifically built for Pinky. 

And here we have the most heartbreaking line of the ep. If I had the ability video edit I would’ve put the entire line on audio because Brain’s tone is very important here. It’s about 12:38 to 12:57 in the ep if you want to see for yourself. 

“Oh, go ahead, Pinky. I don’t need you. What did you think, I just have you around so I can steal your brilliant ideas and claim them as my own? That I’m just using you, Pinky? Oh yes, I’m using you for your brilliance!” 

First of all, very poor word choice, especially to someone who has trouble understanding sarcasm. I just want to dissect this statement here. 

The Literal Meaning: You’re an idiot to think you were ever more than an assistant. 

This is what Pinky hears. 

But if you listen to Brain’s tone rather than just reading the line, he sounds genuinely hurt that Pinky would ever be tempted by something as frivolous as an amusement park. It’s Pinky, so he just sees ‘ooh fun rides, cotton candy, and carnival games’! 

But Brain is perfectly aware that this is Snowball’s well-crafted method of taking away the only thing he truly has, and he knows it’s working. And he’s hurt. 

The Actual Meaning: Snowball’s trying to separate us and you’re falling for it, Pinky. You may be an idiot, but many of my plans never would’ve come to fruition without you. You’re much more than an assistant. You’re my friend and my world.  

Unfortunately, all Pinky hears is that Brain was only using him. That Brain values him for manual labor and an extra hand only, rather than a treasured companion. The fact that Brain often falls short of making Pinky feel appreciated just adds to this. 

And now that he no longer has Pinky, Brain’s spirit is crushed. Brain is persistent, but without Pinky, he has no reason to be. 

As far as he knows, his only two friends have turned their backs on him and couldn’t care less if he has nowhere else to go. 

Poor thing. He needs hugs. 

“I didn’t think it was possible. Humanity has actually gotten dumber.” -Brain

OK I think this one shot establishes what the world would be like under Snowball. His name is everywhere, and he tells the population to do stupid things just to bask in his own superiority. 

However, I can’t see Brain putting his name on every building so frivolously like this if he ruled the world. Sure, he’d name a bunch of things after himself and Pinky, but it would be more meaningful to them. 

Brain wants humanity to advance, not regress. 

Poor Pinky. Despite all this new extravagance and luxury, he’s also lonely. The room and bed are large, but it lacks personality. He’s sleeping with an ACME Labs snow globe, and other than a reference to Citizen Kane, it also shows that he’s not happy with this. 

The worst thing in the world for these mice is separation from each other. 

Suicide by cat. 

Poor little guy can’t make it on his own. Luckily, he snaps out of it. 

“My world. I must save MY world!” 

Said while looking at a picture of Pinky. Real subtle there Brain. 

“Look, you fool. You have no brilliant ideas. I’m only using you to get at him! So just stay quiet!” -Snowball

“You’re...using me?” -Pinky

He was just a bargaining chip. Never a friend. 

“What do you want?” 

“My friend. And MY world!”

AWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW

He makes martial arts noises like a dork. I love him. 

I love how their characters are reflected in the mecha designs (also I had no idea Snowball was Iron Man!) 

Snowball’s is overall the more efficient design. It’s also much more combat ready and violent. In comparison, Brain’s suit is simply operated with a bunch of levers. It’s alright for peaceful situations like getting around faster or simply blending with a human population, but in a straight up fight the levers take too much time to operate. 

Snowball is more efficient than Brain, and while he’s got the ego, he lacks the insecurities that hold Brain back. His confidence makes him such an effective foe. And more importantly, Snowball doesn’t value Pinky’s companionship. He’s a tool and nothing more. Compare that to Brain. While Brain struggles at showing it, he ultimately wants Pinky’s input and values his jumbo-sized heart. 

Somewhat off topic, but I feel like the reboot missed this aspect of Brain and made him too overly edgy and violent (reboot!Brain would probably prefer Snowball’s mecha design over his counterpart’s). The only time Brain should become violent, if not for comedy, is when he’s protecting Pinky. His plans should have a level of restraint to them, and Pinky is the moral compass.  

I just like this shit-eating grin right here (I mean, he did eat shit in Welcome to the Jungle so...lol)

This is such an insanely clever move for Pinky. I feel like Brain would be like ‘oh my god Pinky!’ and then ‘wow, that’s actually brilliant what the heck is this tingling feeling’. 

ACME LABS IS IN NEW YORK CITY??????

I know this is a case of Where the Hell is Springfield but gdi aren’t they supposed to be in southern California. 

Ok fine I realize the ending to this ep is a reference to North by Northwest cause they somehow got to Mt. Rushmore but still 

Weird tangent but North by Northwest’s ending bothers me (not gonna fault this ep as it’s just a parody)? I’m sorry the girl is barely hanging onto Mt. Rushmore, the dude pulls her up, and then they have sex in a car. The sudden transition always seemed weird to me. 

I am ending this analysis post with a weird shot of Snowball cause i can and it’s his episode. 

[nightswithkookmin]

You need to back up your ON break up theory with more than just fake subs and vague statements about 'claiming behavior'.

During the period you allege they were broken up, Jimin pulled Jungkook in a hug on run behind, Jungkook called Jimin sexy at a press conference, Jimin and jungkook did that whole 'how does it feel to be in the same unit'/'time to change' flirty thing, Jimin grabbed Jungkook by the lapels... and more. Begging pardon but if they were grieving the loss of their romantic relationship while trying to be professional colleagues and pals.... isnt that sort of insensitive? Like I know you admitting you might have read it wrong and have changed your view in light of new footage might be a blow to your ego, but I don't think you are thinking rationally when you insist on this break up theory. It's sad because I found so much meaning and connection in some of the stuff you have written, particularly pertaining to internalized homophobia, racism, mysogynoir and bts changing over time to become more enlightened, but your devotion to this ONE theory, and defensiveness whenever it is (rightly imo) challenged makes me wary of your theories in general, which might be extremely unfair to you, as a thinker. Your log is really funny and great in a lot of ways so i cant really quit you.

Ahhhh it's been a while I got one of these...

Hello, how you doing! Lol. Silver is that you?

Chilee, it's the name calling for me.

Ego, irrational, charlatan, Tuktukker- I'm desensitized to such ad hominems at this point. You don't throw words like these around and expect me to sit at the table and talk. Imma yeet myself out real fast. Lol.

There's just something different, wholesome almost, about this post though. Sounds constructive I think. Or maybe it's because I just woke. Chilee. Lol.

It doesn't feel at all like you are attacking me. It's strange...

You're gaslighting though but it's fine. I've built a resistance to that from years and years of dealing with my abductors or family. Potato potahto.

I often put my sanity before other's insanity which is why I don't indulge posts such as these and I'm not sorry about that. I mean is this an Ask or Submission? I don't- what am I supposed to say? What is the call to action?

Sigh.

If I come across as defensive sometimes, 10 out of 10, it's probably because the person on the other end is being offensive. Straight up. Cause and effect, the science don't lie.

You don't expect me to not defend when I'm being attacked. That's just tacky.

I don't think there's anything wrong with challenging views and notions because at the very least, that's about the exchange of ideas and I welcome it.

I set the limits at the racial slurs, the mocking tones, the emotionally charged rants meant to disparage me and my entire ancestry rather than argue a point, the interference with my personal life and business all because I hold a different view on a topic, the doxing, gaslighting, the bad mouthing, spreading lies about me, turning my friends against me, stripping away my rights and copyrights, harassing people who enjoy my work among- other things.

I usually exercise my right to self preservation in these instances- imma block, delete, ignore, forward or clap back. Word. Lol.

I'm sorry, but if you have to attack the individuality of a person to argue your point, you've lost the argument and you never had one to begin with.

Take for instance, the bit you wrote about me taking a blow to 'my ego' - do you see the problem with that?

What has holding a view different from yours on a particular subject got to do with the ego?

Do you mean to say the only way I can hold an opinion different from yours on a matter is if I were hubristic?

Are you projecting? What's happening? Lol

And if I call you out for this, I'm defensive? Way to add gaslighting to your bigotry and intolerance of opinions that don't align with yours. No offense.

I give myself permission to hold unpopular views. I give myself permission to think differently from others. I give myself permission to see what I see and believe what I believe and form an opinion on what I see and believe divorced from others' views and based on my own understanding of the workings of this world or in this case Jikook.

No amount of name calling will change this fact. We see things from different perspectives after all.

You need to back your ON break up theory with more than just fake subs and vague claims about claiming behavior.

Lol. Fake subs? You mean the Hajima bit from the On comeback special I put in my video? Interesting.

I think I see what you mean about my break up theory and I agree to some extent. Like, come up here with charts and paragraphs and excel spreadsheets on why I think Jikook were broken up?

I would be happy to do that kind of analysis.

I think the problem for me here is, I feel tasked to convince rather than to share my opinion on the matter or even expand on my theories for discourse sakes and that makes me really uncomfortable.

Not to psychoanalyze you, but I feel when you ask this of me you are not just asking me to divulge my thoughts on a topic but to disabuse you of your own biases surrounding the topic.

I don't think this is about my opinion at all. I think it's about your own beliefs about Jikook. And there's nothing wrong with that. If you believe in something you need to stand for it. Just don't mind if others do same and don't call them names for doing so. Because if you do mind, then that's bigotry.

The fact is my opinion contradicts your beliefs about Jikook and you either want to punish me for it hence the slurs, are in denial, or you want to believe my point of view- can't really tell.

I think there is a limit in general to how far I can prove Jikook in anyway and that has nothing to do with lack of evidence, my ego or my rationality. And yes, I often shroud my beliefs in vague expressions because I don't want to set myself up or open myself up to legal suits. I can only prove Jikook to a point and nothing beyond my belief. Beyond that, I would be skating on thin ice and making bighit a tad richer.

During the period you allege they were broken up, Jimin pulled JK in a hug, grabbed Jungkook by his lapel, JK called Jimin sexy, they did the flirty challenge...

So if I understand you correctly, all these is what makes Jikook a couple to you and indicate they are dating?

Alright then.

Hobi calls Jimin sexy all the time. BTS calls eachother sexy all the time. I don't think that's a sign they are in a polyamory.

Jungkook plays with his hyungs' dick and ass and talks about falling for them most times. I don't think that makes him gay or in a relationship with any of them.

Lemme just cut to the chase. I've reached my photo limits. I have said a countless times now, that I don't view skinship and all these interactions you've pointed out as indication two people are dating- especially not two Koreans working within the homoerotically charged space of Kpop.

And I have given out a few of the metrics I use in considering whether any ship in BTS is real over the course of my blogs- intimacy, exclusive behaviors such as and not limited to claiming eachother and exercising certain rights and authorities over eachother and against the group, stress trails as a result of keeping their relationship a secret, the microaggressions, breaching the fourth wall and others.

I think what this comes down to is differences in perspectives on a fundamental level. Not egos.

I don't see the things you see as the signs Jikook are real and dating, as signs Jikook are real and dating. If I did, I would be seeing every ship in BTS as real but I don't.

And you consider the metrics I use in ascertaining Jikook as vague something something. I think we are at an impasse.

But explain the bit about 'insensitive' to me please. I would love to engage in that discourse. Why would it be insensitive for two exes to act cordially with eachother within a workplace in the aftermath of a breakup?

Then the bit about grieving...

So grieving is one of your metrics for accessing whether or not two people are broken up?

That's interesting. I mean I don't disagree but I also don't think Jikook are gonna come to work with oversized pajamas, dark shades, boxes of tissues and a blanket slung over their shoulders because of a broken heart... it's 2020 not Manila. They've grown, are learning and getting better at dealing with their emotions on camera because, as Suga pointed out, they are aware the least bit of tension translates to the screens.

I mean Jimin said it himself in his 2020 interview, he's learned to react less intensely to certain things. And sometimes, he tries to downplay certain things. He tries to perform Jikook when Jikook are not in a great place. It's only in recent times, On era, where JK has opted out and not gone along with it.

I think he does that and uses their shared 'Jikook agenda' and performances of Jikook as a means to fix things or break the ice between them at least.

But clearly Jk wasn't having it that day as he kept putting up boundaries with Jimin throughout that Run episode- unless of course you are disputing this as well on the grounds Jimin dragged his ass into a hug. Chilee.

I think most people wouldn't have felt there was something off with Jikook in that On period at all had it not been for Run 116. It's similar to how, had it not been for Jimin's birthday saga, the Esquire shoot behind scenes and Grammy reaction video, no one would have felt there was something going on between Jikook in the October timeline.

I think we would have seen and felt the less interactions and professionalism between them in the aftermath of it but for the most parts, moments like the couch scene in the Grammy reaction video wouldn't have made sense to any of us especially as we had just witnessed JK in the ON:E concert rushing to comfort and console JM when he was tearing up at the end of the concert.

At least when he pushed JM into a ditch somewhere in the dark in Soop we know he had been drinking and they were playing competitive sports. Even with that he still showed some concern when Jimin fell and injured himself afterwards.

I think we would all be wondering if Jikook were fanservice at that point, a fanservice relationship where JK only consoled Jimin when he cried infront of thousands of people at concerts and nibbled his ear while he was at it.

And I think we would be on opposite sides of the argument: me, arguing Jikook were experiencing a hiccup in their relationship and you, rationalizing that moment with anything from 'JK don't have to be at JM's beck and call' 'he is an introvert who is shy to show affections publicly' to even something about the weather.

But I would have looked at this moment from the October pop up video behind scenes and assumed JK was mad at Jimin for something JM had done and had done something in retaliation and was now feeling sorry he did.

And I would have based it off of this moment, or a countless similar ones from around On era or the previous eras where JK had done this exact same thing- frozen in place and staring at Jimin in the middle of a shoot or interview after sliding his hands down Tae's chest, clung on to the others unnecessarily to get a reaction out of JM.

Would I have been right? It really doesn't matter to me as long as it makes sense to me. I ship Jikook in a way that makes sense to me. Jikook are gay, in a gay relationship with each other and are human like anyone of us- that makes sense to me. Whether I am right or wrong.... who cares and why does it matter?

Personally, I think the only person grieving in that period was JK not JM and I don't think he grieved for long before he switched off his humanity and went stone cold tit for tat terminator on JM and BTS's ass. Lol. He had JM looking all kinds of subdued in that era. Lmho.

People grieve in various ways. In my opinion. For Jimin, I feel he puts on a strong facade most times when he has to film during such times and lately I feel he masks his emotions with anger.

Jk masks his pain with anger too sometimes but I feel in recent times, he is leaning more towards indifference. I think he tries not to be as affected by certain things as compared to the early half of 2020...

But I understand what you mean when you talk about grieve. I think for me rather than look for physical evidence of grief like a sad face, a tear drop dripping down a face, I love for vulnerability in them.

JK's is easy to tell because he tends to open himself up to others such as Tae or Jin or Hobi- and I don't mean like his interactions with them. I mean he leans on them for moral or emotional support.

In the Holiday remix video where he was hiding behind Jin, I felt he was feeling very vulnerable and exposed after that intense moment with Jimin.

It's what he does when he is feeling vulnerable. He turns to others especially Jimin and if Jimin is the cause of his vulnerability he turns away from him like he did within On era or even in Run 116.

When he is in a good place with Jimin, often he is closed off to the others. Jimin does the opposite. He shuts himself up entirely from the group. I don't think he likes to go through his pain by himself.

I've always found that bit fascinating about them. Jk opens himself to people when he is at his lowest while JM closes himself off when he is at his worst.

It played out in their rainy day fight as well. In JK's vulnerability, that's when he let Jimin in, lowering his walls while JM on the other hand closed himself off to him.

Can you give me more than they were together in that period because they played with eachother's lapels?

You don't think I'm thinking rationally when I insist on my theory? Uhmmm... okay? What is rational in this case?

Listen, I recieve a lot of hate for my 'irrational thoughts and opinions' out in these streets. I've lost potentially great friendship on this platform because of it. As I type this, there is someone in someone else's DMs persuading them not to read and engage with my posts because I'm extremely evil I think Jikook break up from time to time in their relationship.

If I genuinely believed in the slightest least or had the least doubt that Jikook were together in that period I would change my mind on the topic- damn my pride and ego. It simply isn't worth the hustle.

If it helps your sanity, please stop reading my blogs. My blogs are not for everyone. It makes some people happy, it makes some people mad and some people experience both.

My gratification is in sharing my thoughts and chronicling Jikook's journey for my own appeasement and support of Jikook. I owe it to them as a believer and a supporter to humanize them as much as possible.

I do not seek to convert others, change minds, or convince anyone of my opinions or to disabuse anyone of theirs.

Let's just agree to disagree on the matter please. Or if you can drop the ad hominems, I would be more than happy to go back and forth with you on this very topic. It's actually shaping out to be one of my favorite Jikook eras. I love me some terminator JK. Lol.

Signed,

GOLDY

[set-phasers-to-whump]

all we can do

Prompt: carry/support (alt no.15)

Whumpee: Kurt Wallander

Fandom: Young Wallander

welcome back to my second fic for a fandom that barely exists! i finished the show today and i felt like we got so robbed of an ending that like. properly Dealt with the fallout of the explosion so i did this. unfortunately it’s not very good but oh well. what can you do. this is set in the night after the explosion and it could be canon compliant? the show isn’t super clear on the timing of everything so idk. whatever lol. hope you enjoy this if you read it for some reason!

Kurt is numb. His ears haven’t stopped ringing since the explosion. He’s still covered in dust and small pieces of debris. He sees the people around him cry, but finds himself incapable. He doesn’t feel anything. He’s running on autopilot.

His autopilot leads him to a bar, where he sinks down onto a stool and drinks and doesn’t even register the people around him staring and whispering. 

He drinks and drinks and he doesn’t know why. Maybe he wants the alcohol to keep him numb. Maybe he’s hoping it’ll tear down enough of his internal defenses that the pain of reality will come screaming back. 

Whatever his intentions might have been, he winds up drunk out of his mind with a bartender threatening to throw him out. He doesn’t want to leave. There are people here. If he leaves, he will be alone with himself, and he thinks that that is a remarkably bad idea at the moment.

But the bartender keeps insisting that he leave. That he’s had enough to drink. Finally, he asks if there’s someone he can call, and Kurt thinks, of course, of Reza.

His friend picks up on the first ring, asking him something like, are you all right? 

“No, I’m smashed,” Kurt says. He thinks that’s kind of funny, for reasons he can’t explain. He laughs. “I’m so fucking drunk, Rez.”

He hears Reza say something, muffled. Then he hears Jasmine’s voice reply. “Hi, Jasmine,” he calls, and the bartender snaps at him to be quieter.

“Hey, Kurt,” Jasmine says, sounding subdued. 

“Did you hear Hemberg got blown up?” he asks, because he knows she has. 

“I did,” she says, and then Reza is back speaking to him. “I’m comin’ to get you, alright?”

He nods, and then says, “yeah,” when his alcohol-soaked brain reminds him that he can’t be seen over the phone. He hangs up, and then just sits there. 

He stares at the ground, watching Gustav Munck’s car explode, hearing his own voice yell to Hemberg, over and over again, until a hand on his shoulder jolts him out of his memories.

Reza is standing there, and there’s this terrible look on his face and for a second Kurt tries to think of why, and then remembers. “It’s so sad, isn’t it,” he says. “One second, you’re there, and then...boom. Just like that, Rez. Boom.” The car explodes again. He tastes smoke. 

Reza flinches a little at Kurt’s words. “You’re drunk, Kurt,” he says. “Come with me.”

“I am drunk,” Kurt replies. “I’m drunk and I can’t feel anything, Rez. Nothing.”

“I know. Let’s get you up, yeah?”

And then Reza’s arm is under his own, and he’s being lifted to his feet. The sudden change in position makes him dizzy, and he nearly collapses, saved only by Reza’s arm around him. 

The walk out of the bar is extremely difficult. Kurt barely does any work at all, fully supported by Reza, who is half-dragging him along. All the while, Kurt is talking about Hemberg, Munck, the explosion, in a neverending circle, and all the while, the car explodes in front of him, and smoke fills his field of vision.

The car ride is silent. Kurt is staring out the window without seeing anything but flames. Reza is avoiding looking over at his best friend, hating what he knows he’ll see. Kurt’s in shock, he’d recognized that the second he’d called. Kurt can’t feel anything, and he’s too drunk to understand the words he’s saying, which are belaying how he feels under the layers of alcohol and shock. 

Reza pulls to a stop at his house and opens the passenger door, but Kurt remains in his seat. Reza can’t tell if he looks worse than he did in the bar, or if it’s just the light from the car illuminating how badly he’s looked all this time: caked in residue from the explosion, because he’d refused to go to the hospital. Pale as hell, because his boss is dead, because he hasn’t caught the man responsible. Half-asleep, because he’d decided to go get drunk instead of do something as reasonable as reach out. 

He pulls Kurt gently out of the car, hearing the other man make a faint, unconscious noise of pain, the first indication that he’s in any kind of pain at all. Reza looks him over worriedly, checking for any injury that Kurt had somehow not realized he’d gotten.

Sure enough, there’s a splotch of red slowly seeping through his shirt. “You’re bleeding, man, you know that?” Reza asks, sure that the answer will be no.

“I dunno,” says Kurt. “Don’t feel anything.”

“Can you walk?”

“I dunno,” is Kurt’s answer, again. 

“If you’re not walking, I swear I’ll throw you over my shoulder and carry you inside,” Reza says, intending to say it as a threat.

It’s clearly not received that way. “Okay,” Kurt says, and he makes no move to stand.

Reza sighs briefly before reaching down and picking Kurt up, trying to be mindful of whatever injury he has. He carries Kurt up to the front door, and wonders, vaguely, if he’s always been this light.

He opens the door with the hand not holding onto Kurt, then shuffles inside and into the living room, setting Kurt down on the couch carefully. 

Jasmine comes out of their room then, gasping aloud when she sees the man on her couch. “Kurt,” she says, softly, and goes to sit down next to him, putting a hand on his smudged cheek. 

“He’s been like this since...since the explosion?” she asks, turning to Reza. 

“Wouldn’t let anyone touch him,” Reza confirms. “He’s in shock, I think. Says he can’t feel anything.”

“He’s bleeding.”

“It doesn’t hurt,” Kurt interrupts. “Hi, Jasmine. Good to see you.”

She gives him a sad smile. “Hi, Kurt.”

Reza comes and sits down on his other side, reaching out to remove Kurt’s jacket, and then his shirt.

“What’re you doing?” Kurt questions.

“Figuring out why you’re bleeding,” is Reza’s reply, and Kurt lapses into silence.

“It doesn’t hurt,” he repeats, after a moment of Reza poking around a thankfully-not-too-deep shrapnel wound. “It doesn’t hurt, Reza, why doesn’t it hurt?”

Reza stops what he’s doing and looks into Kurt’s face, seeing emotion there for the first time. His eyes are wet with as-yet-unshed tears, and although his statements are to the contrary, he looks so incredibly pained. 

“It doesn’t hurt because you’re in shock,” Reza explains gently, as Jasmine takes over tending to his wound. Kurt looks at the floor. The car has stopped exploding, but still, all he can smell is smoke. 

“Can you make it stop?” he asks, not really sure what it is he’s referring to. 

“You’ll come out of it on your own,” Reza says, wishing he could say something more comforting. “Dunno if you’ll feel better when you do.”

Jasmine finishes bandaging his wound, and for a moment the three of them just sit there, Reza’s hand on Kurt’s back, Jasmine’s hand in his hair. 

“Would you mind if we cleaned you up?” Jasmine asks, pulling a piece of something out of Kurt’s hair. 

Kurt shrugs. He doesn’t care. He pokes at the newly-bandaged gash in his stomach, wishing that he could feel it. Reza’s hand pulls him away from that particular task, and he feels Jasmine stand up on his other side. 

She returns after a second, and then there’s a warm washcloth rubbing gently against his face and another one dragging across his torso. Slowly, they begin to take away the smell of smoke that’s been following him all day, and by the time they’ve finished, he feels different.

Less drunk, for one. Cleaner, for another. But the most notable change is the sudden stab of pain in his stomach. 

“I can feel it now,” he says, feeling his voice shake. “Oh god, I feel it,” he says, and then it’s not his voice shaking but his body, and he’s crying and whimpering and in a matter of seconds his world has gone from cold and numb to brutally hot and painful, and then he’s crying so hard that he stops making any noise at all, and all the while he feels hands on him, gentle and warm, rubbing his shoulders and touching his face. 

At some point, the pain reaches a crescendo, and Kurt almost pitches over from the force of the emotions that are pouring out of him unhindered. Before he can, though, an arm extends across his chest and another one grips his shoulders, both of them supporting him, keeping him upright.  

Reza and Jasmine hold onto Kurt as he breaks completely, and they keep holding on when he finally cries himself to sleep. They share a look over his head. 

“Poor guy,” is Reza’s only observation regarding Kurt. “What a way to go…” he adds, shaking his head. He can’t believe any of this. That Hemberg is really dead. That Kurt watched him die. That his killer is most likely never going to be brought to justice. 

“I can’t imagine,” Jasmine says. “And Kurt being there…” she trails off, reaching out to grab Reza’s hand. “How do we all get through this?”

“I don’t know,” Reza confesses. “We just have to be there, I think. Like you two were for me. It’s all we can do, really.”

Between them, Kurt makes a soft noise in his sleep, wrinkling up his face. Jasmine returns a gentle hand to his hair, in an effort to calm him down without waking him. Reza places a hand on his chest, feeling Kurt’s heart beat just slightly too fast.

“I’m so sorry, man,” he says quietly, and feels Jasmine lean over to press a kiss to his cheek. “I’m so sorry.”

i’m very sorry if my depictions of shock were not accurate i did not feel like being accurate lol. anyway this ending sucks butt and tbh the whole story kinda does too...but whatever hope you enjoyed anyway? not that anyone is gonna read this lmao. 

[wanderingcas]

hey so I saw you post a couple things about not wanting negative comments on your fics and I feel rly bad bc I think if you were vagueposting it may have been in response to the comment I left on your most recent chapter of ascend (I’ve since deleted it, though if it’s still in your inbox I’m sorry I can’t remove that as well). I did read it through before I hit submit, but after seeing what you said I went back, and can see how it could have been interpreted that way; I can tell my tone was just way off, especially for the platform. I’m autistic and have done a lot of work to improve my communication skills and convey appropriate tone, but I still bungle it up sometimes, and I’m sorry about that.

Things get messy on the internet for a variety of reasons, basic miscommunication being one, blurring of boundaries another, mismatch of expectations, etc etc; my intention was to be conversational, like wondering about a plot point not touched on, sandwiched between things I really liked about it. In retrospect I am seeing that even if that tone had been appropriately conveyed, that’s still a boundary you would prefer not to be crossed, particularly not in that setting uninvited.

Tumblr can add a layer of complexity bc of how friendly and informal and blunt so much of it is, and I think perhaps because I’ve read so much of your work and follow you here, it skewed the relationship baseline I was aiming from. For example, if I were talking to a friend about their work, I believe that tone would be less likely to cause hurt or offense, if that makes sense, or at least that has been my experience...though now that I’m thinking about it, still maybe not on a public comment platform! So again I am realizing the layers of my error here.

I’m not explaining to minimize your feelings or absolve myself of blame, but because by describing it this way I better understand what I did, where I went wrong, and how to improve going forward. I would rather be embarrassed and work through it than experience this social faux pas and be too ashamed to leave comments at all in the future. I can understand the position you have taken about not wanting negative comments, and I definitely get that you and all fic authors and other fanwork creators put in the time and effort and make yourselves vulnerable by sharing that effort for free, only hoping for some positive feedback in response.

Although I’ve definitely had good interactions with some authors over the years via comments and included some not-exclusively-positive feedback without issue, it’s wrong to assume that that is everyone’s stance. It’s absolutely every author’s prerogative to decide what types of comments to accept, and I mean that without judgment. As a non-neurotypical person (who often needs explicit statements of acceptable social behavior to adequately modulate my communication), this has reminded me that it is safer and kinder to assume that someone wants positive-only until otherwise demonstrated.

I apologize for any hurt caused by my inappropriate and badly phrased comment. Thank you for sharing your work, and for enforcing your boundary about what type of comment you’d prefer to accept.

hi, anon! just to clarify - are you the commenter that made a post about wanting more of Jack in the epilogue? Because i want to absolve you of some blame right now - I actually wasn't vagueposting toward you at all. I got really bad anon hate yesterday? two days ago? toward my fic (I deleted it, blocked the anon, and never posted it), as well as anons in the past - and I've also been seeing fellow writer friends go through some of the same issues. My post was less of a vague post necessarily and more of a general "let's review fandom etiquette" lol. Know that my post about that, and the subsequent discourse with that anon, was absolutely not directed at you.

When I got your comment I will admit it made me a little uncomfy - mostly because when I've gotten those comments in the past, they're layered with an added "this is what I wanted and you didn't do it so I'm angry and telling you about it", but that's not what you did in your comment - I understood where you were coming from, even if it did make me pause a bit. So i just want to let you know that you shouldn't feel shame or awkward or anything like that. I agree that tone and intention can get lost over the internet, and the relationship between reader and author can be tricky sometimes - particularly if you want to offer an opinion that might not be taken as completely positive? But it sounds like you are aware of that, and I do appreciate you taking the time to self-reflect.

And just as a quick note - in the past, there have been fics I've asked to get feedback on from readers - like La Hantise, for example, which I since deleted to rework as an original fic. I really wanted readers to point out what parts worked for them, and what parts didn't, and I specifically stated that in the author's notes on every chapter. Looking back, that may have been why our signals crossed got crossed, if you've been following my fics before. And usually I am pretty open to opinions in comments? But "ascend" in particularly has gotten some really entitled, really awful comments (again, not putting yours in that category!) so I've had to guard myself a bit with that fic. Maybe it's because it's a fix it fic, and everyone wants different things out of the finale to be fixed. Maybe it's because tensions are high. I dunno. Either way, i've had to build some walls around myself so i don't want to stop posting supernatural fic altogether lol.

So yeah, this is a messy way of saying - thank you for coming to apologize in case you needed to, but know the post wasn't about you. It was a general vent about the unwanted criticism and vitriol that some writers have been receiving lately on their fics. Like, really mean-spirited stuff lol. It wasn't my intention to make anyone paranoid, especially because comments on fics are great and lovely and I'm not about to drag anyone through the mud even if a comment made me a little sad, but I can tell their intentions are good. Usually in that case I just disengage and think about how to process it on my own end. <3

That all being said, i really really appreciate you taking the time to come to my inbox and say all this. You're one of the good ones, you really are. And people like you make me want to keep posting fic. Truly.

[nobodies-png]

HC: Xemnas and the other Xehanorts love playing Animal Crossing.

Just because ACNH has been such a fuckin BEACON OF JOY in my life since it came out (even though I have no means of playing lol) i’m adding some general animal crossing Nort headcanons 

Master Xenahort :

He’d be a snooty goat, pretty obvious. All of his letters sound vaguely threatening and pretty creepy, but he also sends super rare furniture so it’s not like you can complain that much.  Whenever he’s in your town, all of your flowers are bound to turn black for some weird fucking reason. - no one knows if this is a feature or a glitch You have more chances of getting him to show up if you have a heart shaped pond for him to lurk around.

As for Xenahort playing Animal Crossing, weLL. Good luck getting this old boomer figure out how the controls and everything else works. He seems to like Isabelle a lot because “she’s efficient and a cute dog” but he ALSO likes Apollo and his litte “PAH !” catchphrase.  Xenahort could have a pretty gothic and aesthetic world if it weren’t for the fact that he struggles with technology. Also also the guy who’d listen to all teh fun facts Blathers has.

Ansem (Heartless) :

A jock/cranky boar maybe. The kind of villager you wouldn’t really give much thought about, he looks a little funky and emo but eh, it’s not a big deal - until you get into his house and see that it’s pretty much chaos. There’s furniture you’ve never seen and are those fucking GLOWING EYES in the background ? You don’t think you wanna know. Exclusively comes out at night when there’s literally no other villager awake and he’s never present during holidays or events.

Ansem wouldn’t even play Animal Crossing, ngl. He has 0 interest in the game and would most likely drop it after 10 minutes. Also why can he only call like ONE person in the attic ? Fucking whack, that’s not how phones work. Spends the entire time complaining about little things he doesn’t understand. Like come on, man they’re just funky talking animals, let them live.

Xemnas : 

A lazy wolf. More quiet and lethargic than actually lazy. The guy is pretty quiet the first days UNTIL you start befriending them, then you’ll discover that he’s actually a fucking chatterbox. You can find Xemnas on the beach at sunset just vibing most of the time or at the museum. After having him around for a while, you notice that he’s the only fucking villager in your town that hasn’t celebrated nor told you when his birthday is. His house is pretty minimalist and monochrome.

Xemnas doesn’t exactly “play” the game - he mostly just roams around, doing absolutely nothing or just talking with people while going “Hmmm” Ohhh” “I see. . .” and other noises to himself. Couldn’t figure out how to give Isabelle a seashell on the first days so he just dropped that shit on the town hall pavement and it’s been there since then. Xemnas also never learns the real names of the villagers in his town, he just names them after people he knows and calls it a day.

Vanitas :

Definitely a jock cat, but like, the mean kind. He’s just too childish and energetic to be a cranky villager lol - his catchphrase is probably some shit like “idiot”. Not even a nickname, he just adds that at the end of sentences. Vanitas (or Catnitas :punch: :pensive) runs through the flowers but ONLY when you’re watching, orders the weirdest and most complex coffee just to see if you can make it - and then when you show him that you can, he’s impressed but also angry cause now he has to drink that shit. If you get Vanitas on your town, there’s a high chance that Ventus also moves in right next to him and viceversa.

Vanitas claims that he doesn’t give a shit about Animal Crossing, but his town is impeccable and he WILL kill for the villagers he loves - even if he’d also just try to straight up kill the ones he hates lol. The type of guy who carries around an axe 24/7 for no reason other than aesthetics and to make a Statement (tm). His house is pretty ugly though and he gets mad because he just doesn’t know how to properly decorate it to get a good grade.

Young Xenahort :

Smug goat. Smug goat. SMUG GOAT. The 100% definition of smug bastard - old Xenahort at least had the decency to SEND you rare furniture, but this guy just DISPLAYS it all on his house and MAKES SURE you know how pitiful it is that you can’t have the same things as he does. His house is chess themed and he has a picture of Eraqus somewhere. All of his letters sound condescending and he tries to use really long words to sound cooler, but we all know the truth. 

Young Xenahort shares a switch with Young Eraqus so naturally they  share islands in ACNH. Eraqus didn’t really mind but Xenahort REALLY wanted to divide the island in half so that they could have their own territory. IRONICALLY, he spends most of the time on Eraqus’ side tidying shit up - because he just can’t help getting mad whenever he sees how messy everything is, with all the fucking fish just laying around because Blathers isn’t there yet. Young Xenahort also insists on only having white roses and is very hellbent on keeping a strict aesthetic.

Terranort : 

The snooty lion she tells you not to worry about. Also a bit smug, but not as bad as the actual Xenahort - he’s actually pretty tolerable, when he’s not giving you the cold shoulder. The villager that takes you 207456 years to actually befriend and who only likes super specific and rare items as gifts. It’s really funny to bully him around because he only gets angry and just stomps around all day after that.

Another sad lad who wouldn’t play AC BUT if he DID he’d have some intense lore and one man larping sessions with the villagers. Like, those people who get WAY too into it. And sadly that’s all I got on him because I wasted all of my juice on writing for the other guys who are all technically the same guy. 

Dark Riku : 

Stereotypical jock wolf - head empty no thoughts, only muscles, sports and a deep seated inferiority complex. If you send him fruit, he’ll send you garbage in return. The only villager who wil SMACK you back with a net if you hit him, but his letters are oddly ??? Pretty nice and normal too ??? Unlike all of his regular dialogue about beating you up at every single game and sport possible in this entire world. Like, calm down, bro. Calm down and have a caprisun. Brags a lot about his “friend Kairi” from another town, which is sad cause she doesn’t. Actually know him. At all.

 Like Vanitas, e-boy Riku says he “doesn’t give a shit about some animal AI from a kids game” but he actually does. Sable is BEST girl in his eyes and getting her to open up and share her story with him was a magical moment. The game is super soothing and it calms him down, he’d even listen to those Lo-Fi AC 24/7 streams on youtube whenever he needs to c h i l l.

Xigbar : 

Peppy panther, I don’t even have to tell y’all what his catchphrase is. Constantly breaks the fourth wall with little jokes, known to “teleport” - he kinda ends up showing up on every single store and building you enter, as if nothing happened. Sends you VERY specific letters describing shit he shouldn’t knowor stupid jokes and puns. LOVES to gossip about other villagers and gives you that Extra Lore and trivia about them - but whenever you ask others about him, they just Dont Know Anything About Xigbar. Are you SURE he’s in your town, mayor ? 

Xigbar would mostly play Pocket Camp because it’s easier than carrying around a fuckin ds or a switch. It’s also less work and it’s a nice distraction from all the drama going around in the real organization. To play ACNH or ACNL he probably leeches off someone else’s console and he’d exclusively visit others’ towns just to fuck with them or annoy them to death by surrounding their houses with pitfalls.

[yelenasdog]

rockstar (peter parker x gn reader)

genre: fluff with a lil angst 

summary: peter always comes to the reader when he’s hurt, but reader wonders if it could mean something more.

words: 1465 ( more or less LMAO)

warnings: light cursing, peter being hurt, some kissing? idk if that counts sorry lol.

a/n: hello! so this is inspired by the song Lover of Mine by 5 Seconds of Summer so i strongly reccomend listening to it by reading! if u prefer to read it on wattpad from my peter parker imagines book, click here !

·。·。·。·。·。·。·。·。·。·。·。·。·

knock knock!

I was abrubtly woken from my peaceful sleep by the loud sounds coming from my window.

"What the hell," I muttered out as I groggily checked the current time. 3:47 am. I reluctantly made my way over, having a feeling it was a certain webslinger. I peeled open the entrance to see Peter, still in his spidey suit, without the mask may I add. I grabbed onto his broad shoulders, pulling him through the opening, almost slipping on the hard floor due to my fuzzy socks.

"Pete, what are you doing, people could see you without the mask." I heard his feet as he quietly padded over to sit on my soft comforter with an obvious limp.

I went over to my lamp and switched it on, a warm glow being strewn across the room by it. As Peter sat on my bed, I turned to meet him, gasping at what had been brought to my attention by the light. I rushed over to the boy, pressing the spider in the center of his suit, causing it to slide off and pool at his feet.

Peter grimaced as I soflty dragged my fingers against his bruised and battered skin from where I sat on the floor next to my bed.

"What happened to you, Pete?" I spoke, looking up at him, my facial expression laced with concern.

"Well," he began as he tried to sit up, groaning in the process, "just got hit a little harder than usual, that's all. It's no biggie, really."

I sighed, placing a tender hand on his from where I sat on the floor in a crouching position. I stood up, my hand staying in the same position.

"It kinda looks like a biggie, bud." One of my hands moved to run itself through his messy brown locks as I looked him up and down once more, scanning for any underlying injuries I might have missed at first look.

He flashed me a tired smile which I returned.

"I'm gonna go grab some stuff to patch you up, k?" This time I gave him a small smile, and he was the one who returned it gratefully.

"Thank you y/n." I squeezed his now bare hand, standing and turning to go.

"It's no problem, Pete, honestly." 

As I tried to leave, he lightly tugged me back by my wrist, catching me by surpise. My breath caught in my throat at the action.

"Really, y/n, I don't know what I would do without you."

I smiled at him once more, "Same to you, BugBoy"

He released my hand, allowing me to go get his supplies. As I gathered what I needed from the cabinet, my head was clouded with thoughts of the boy. The same thoughts that had been clouding my head since the day I had met him.

We had first met at midtown through decathlon, and grew quite close. I was entranced by the boy and everything about him, from his starwars obsession to the way he would rant about different scientific theories. It made my heart swell for reasons I would like to think I couldn't understand. He would confine in me with any problems he was going through, such as Uncle Ben passing, or even some of his biggest secrets, Spider-Man being one of them.

He hadn't meant for me to find out. Not in the way I did, at least.

It had been after a long day at school, when Ned had gone to hang out with Peter and build the lego deathstar, and I tagged along to surprise him, as I had been gone on a trip for quite some time and wanted to see him. Turns out I was the one in for a surprise, because I found out peter was Spider-Man that same day when he walked in on the ceiling through his window. It was a bit of a shock to say the least.

My feelings had only grown for the boy since that point, which also left me with uncalled for emotions that I had a difficult time dealing with. Especially when Peter would do this every time he would get hurt. This whole routine of coming to me at ungodly hours of the night, and me patching him up every time without question. It was sad to say the least. 

The way my heart would ache for the boy in red, so much so that I would sacrifice so much for his happiness, whatever form that would take. 

I tried to deny the feelings that would arise when I was around him, and God, was it difficult. I looked myself in the mirror, taking a deep breath. I walked back out to where Peter was waiting for me, reaching out and placing all the supplies on my mahogony side table.

"I know you hate hearing this, but we might have to do stitches, Pete."

He groaned, looking up to my poster covered ceiling as if one of the singers on the paper would somehow deny the fact he needed the medical attention.

He looked back at me, giving me puppy dog eyes.

"Come on, Rockstar? Really?"

My heart swelled at the nickname he had gifted me after finding out about my love for music, one of the many things we bonded over. I was tempted to give in, but quickly snapped out of it.

"Nice try, Peter, but this is for your own good, so lets just get it over with, yeah?"

His head dropped and he nodded, looking down to his feet.

"Head up, bub, I need to be able to see what I'm doing and get this done before it starts to scab." I could have sworn Peter's pupils dialated and he seemed a little off at the pet name, but yet again, it was nearly 4 am, so I very well could have been imagining things, and probably was.

As I started to run the needle through the forming scar, he let out a whimper, gripping my shoulder in pain as his eyes screwed shut. He did this often, grabbing me “as hard as he could” whenever he was hurting. 

It was an idea I had introduced to him to deal with any especially bad injuries, our little way of dealing with the pain. I knew it might cause me some minor damage, as he would never hurt me. I assured Peter every time that I felt okay, but something nagged at me telling me he felt guilty, and that he wasn't gripping as hard as he could.

As I went through what I imagined was an especially painful part, he cursed loudly under his breath.

"Fuck!"

I stopped what I was doing momentarily to check on him after the short outburst, unusual for his kind and calm demeanor.

"Are you okay, Peter?"

He moved his large hands to tightly grip his hair, moving down to his neck, back and forth.

"No, y/n! I'm not okay. I'm hurting, I'm hurting so bad, y/n/n" His volume increased and decreased again, silent tears falling down his face.

I had dropped the needle that I had been using, shocked by his volume. I picked it back up again, resuming my task with conceringly shaky hands.

"I can try to be softer if it would help, Pete." My voice was gentle as I spoke, in a feeble attempt to not upset him further. 

He looked at me and to his shoes as he began to talk, his voice low I could barely hear him.

"No, y/n, it's not you, you're doing amazing, it's just," he didn't finish his sentence, he rather just trailed off.

I blew out a deep breath, my eyes never leaving the work in front of me.

"What is it, Peter?"

I tied the knot on the stiches, cutting the thread and disposing of the needle in the small biohazard waste kit froom the first aid box.

I stood up directly in front of him to where I was slightly higher up than him. I reached a hand forward, wiping away a stray tear. He took my wrists in his hands, taking me off guard.

"Actually, y/n, I lied." I tensed, concerned about what he was going to say.

"It is you. It's always been you."

Confusion consumed me as I shook my head, and I wondered if it was just my tired state that had caused the emotions.

"Peter, what do you mean you're not making any sens-"

Before I could finish my sentence, he leaned forward encapsulating our lips in a sweet and long awaited kiss. He let go of my wrists, moving his own hands, one to rest around my waist protectivley, the other on the back of my neck under my hair. I moved one of mine to lazily drape over his left shoulder, the other playing with the curls on the nape of his neck. The kiss lasted a long while, but not long enough.

Our hands went to the sides of each others faces when we parted, and his own strong hands started running small circles on my jaw. As we struggled to catch our breaths, he began to speak, the boyish smile I loved so much covering his face.

"My feelings for you are there, Y/n, always have been, and they always will be. I want you to take all of me, Rockstar."

I giggled at the wording of his statement, appreciating it nonetheless. He pressed our foreheads together, a mutal content taking over us.

"Although that was extremely cheesy, I’ll allow it this once. You have no idea how long I've wanted you to say that, BugBoy."

·。·。·。·。·。·。·。·。·。·。·。·。·

idk how i feel about this tbh, kinda love it kinda hate it. stay funky! xx hj

[ajokeformur-ray]

hi can i get a joker matchup please? i’m 5’4,have brown eyes,purple hair,and i’m hispanic. i’m slim thicc😂i love to read and write,i mostly write poetry and i sometimes try at actual stories. i’m the type of girl to wake my s/o up at 3am for a random road trip or even to just go to a park. i’m very clingy and love cuddles. i have ptsd (from r***), mdd, and bpd (which makes it really hard for me to trust people and keep stable relationships). i also have self harm scars. idk what else to say lol

this is the purple haired nonny that j sent a matchup request,i just have a few things to add lol.i’m hella goth,i dress in all black and i’m overall just a dark person.i have my lip,septum,and nostril pierced(i plan on getting way more).i have glasses and i’m practically legally blind w/o them on.i have a really bad rbf,which intimidates ppl(my piercings and style aren’t any help with that lmao)&it kinda makes me sad that it does because i’m actually really friendly and sweet. okay im done lol

You asked me about this a few times and I just wanted to say thank you for being so patient with me - I’ve had your matchup since March 😭 as an extra thank you, and as an apology, I made this as long as I possibly could! I hope that it ends up being worth the wait, darling.💕 I worked on this for about a week, so I hope you enjoy it!

Total wc: 3, 387 ✨✨✨

Arthur // wc: 1, 647.

There’s a four inch height difference between yourself and Arthur and he adores it. It’s not that the fact that you’re shorter than him means that you need to be protected, but even so, he can’t stop himself fully from wanting to protect you even more. Your brown eyes are arguably Arthur’s favourite thing about you, if he had to pick just one (really, he loves all of you for exactly who you are and he wouldn’t change a single thing about you!), because they’re so different to his. When he’s in the middle of a laughing attack or when he just can’t think straight, Arthur likes to cup your face in his hands while he looks into your eyes. “Perfect,” he murmurs, so quietly that you’re not even entirely sure that you were supposed to hear him. You were stood so close to him, though, that you did hear him and it only made your face heat up in embarrassment. Your purple hair is something that Arthur cherishes. In a city of grey buildings, grey concrete, grey suits and dull colours, all too telling of a dying city, your hair is vibrant and it stands out, it makes a statement and Arthur wishes that he had that same level of confidence and bravery. He tells himself that if he spends enough time in your company, then maybe some of that confidence will become his, too. Anything which is important to you is, by default, important to Arthur, and he would soak up anything about your culture that you want to share with him like he’s a sponge. Injustice infuriates Arthur and if anyone ever said anything even slightly offensive to you or about you, then Arthur would be rightfully indignant and he can, will, and has taken a few punches to defend your honour. Arthur loves all of you and he wouldn’t have you any other way, and if ever you became insecure about any part of you, physical or otherwise, then Arthur would be right there with cuddles and all the words you need to hear the most! You’re creative and quiet evenings are spent with the two of you spending time together separately. You would be sat on the worn sofa, with a spring digging into you from somewhere, writing a story or creating poetry, and Arthur would be sat at the small coffee table. The room would be filled with a quietly playing film on the old television, and the sounds of your scribbling and Arthur’s own squeakier pen. Arthur wouldn’t ever ask you, he’s too shy and too afraid of rejection, but he’d love to read the things which you’ve written and he’d put on personal shows for you, too, so that he can practice his comedy, and he might even ask you to help him with his material!

For one reason or another, Arthur has insomnia and most often is he awake at all hours of the night, only able to grab a scant handful of hours of sleep before he’s woken up by his own body. He also likes to go on late night walks, especially after Penny dies, and your spontaneous tendencies to go to the park at 3 AM would be perfect here; because when you wake up, wanting to go on an adventure, Arthur already has his worn and faded mustard yellow jacket on, shoes by the door and a knowing but weary and exhausted smile on his face. “Let’s go, darling,” Arthur would light up a cigarette, exhaling and running a hand through his hair, “Before it starts to get light.”. Arthur adores these night time adventures and he is always, in one way or another, touching you. Whether it’s cuddling on the sofa when he’s watching The Murray Franklin Show (you’re too busy watching him to be fussed about someone who’s entire comedic theme is humiliating other people for the sake of a laugh from a bought and paid for audience), or holding Arthur close to you when he’s shivering after you found him in the fridge at three in the morning, or an arm wrapped around your waist when you’re on the way home from Pogo’s, or even just a grounding touch, you are always touching one another in one way or another. Both of you have your struggles and challenges and it’s not an easy relationship to begin with, but there is so much love between you and that’s what really keeps the two of you together. Arthur is no stranger when it comes to mental illness and if he ever had any questions, he would either ask you directly or he would bring it up during his next appointment with Doctor Kane. As far as finding it difficult to trust people Arthur always understands and he would do everything that he could, as well as you doing everything that you could, to coax and to ease each other into the connection which is so obviously there. The first time you showed him your self harm scars, he cooed softly in shared pain and in understanding and in love and he lavished kisses all over the scars, a single shaky index finger gently rubbing in his kisses, as if the love he has for you would seep into the pores of your skin and heal you from the inside out… he’s not far wrong. Again, and this is very important, Arthur loves you for all of you, and there’s nothing you could ever say or do which would make Arthur love you any less or be any less proud of you.

 Arthur really admires your style. Everyone in Gotham follows the crowd. They don’t ever deviate for fear of ridicule or similar and as such, your own bravery in being who you are and putting your outside on the inside is something which Arthur deeply admires and again does he feel that if he spends lots of time with you, some of your confidence and security in who you are as a person will rub off on him. In time will he discover just how right he is in that theory, though it will be in the worst of ways. You’re a dark person and Arthur gravitates towards that; it’s cathartic, for one, but also, for Arthur, there’s safety in your darkness because it’s yours. He adores how the dark colours you wear contrast so starkly with the bright and mismatched colours which he wears. You complete each other, he thinks, and he wants to know whether your piercings hurt. Why did you get them? Why those places? Did it hurt? How did it happen, what was the process of being pierced? Whether he rattles off those questions in an excited blur or finds out the answers over time all depends on how receptive you are to his curiosity, but he’d definitely be very curious and supportive. Arthur would really admire how comfortable you are in your own skin and he hopes for that for himself, one day. It’ll be sooner than either of you think and neither of you will be ready. You have glasses and Arthur only ever touches them if they’re left somewhere which is dodgy - for example, on the edge of the sink. He lets you put them down and take them off and he’s ready and willing always to give you a hand if you drop them, but otherwise he doesn’t interfere. He wouldn’t like it if you moved his things around, after all, though of course he wouldn’t say anything. Arthur is incredibly protective of you and there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for you. You’re his entire world and he’s so ready and willing to love you with everything that he has and everything that he is. The fact that you feel the same way about him only makes him want to cry. Sometimes he does, and you hold him close and you comfort him and he only cries more. Mutual comfort is something which is really common in your relationship and you both adore it and each other all the more for it. 

Arthur was definitely intimidated by you when he first saw you, but it wasn’t because of your resting face, your style or your piercings. It was just because that’s how Arthur is, so shy and so unsure of social interactions is he. He kept looking at you, intensely curious about you and wanting to talk to you, but in the end were you the one to approach him; you’re friendly and sweet and after that first awkward interaction, Arthur was very taken with you and he wanted to dive straight in to the oceans of your mind and to never resurface. Months later, that is still very much what he wishes to do with you, just as much as you want to dive into him! Arthur really does admire the way that you’re not afraid to be yourself, and he would tell you as such on your first meeting. “I… I re-really like your - your clothes. They look good on you.”. As the days turn to weeks and the weeks bleed into months, Arthur is no longer intimidated by you. He knows you, he sees you, he loves you. He loves all of you just as deeply as you love all of him and when you get sad by the way people assume about you, Arthur hums softly. “I know what that’s like. It hurts but… so long as the people who love you, like me,” He would smile sweetly, “Know who you are, then, that’s okay. You’re the best person in Gotham and you make everything worth it.”. Arthur loves you for all of you, and there’s nothing which you could ever say or do which would make him love you any less or be any less proud of you.

Joker // wc: 1, 740.

If you thought that Arthur used to be protective of you, then you’re in for a wild ride when he saunters home one night and, “it’s Joker now, darling!”. You don’t know what this is all about and you’re not sure how to take it, but there’s something familiar in those green oceans which you know and love so well. You stop and you look at Arthur and you realise that he’s the same man he’s always been. There’s just something about him which has always been so magnetic, so hypnotic and so specifically Arthur that you know you would recognise him anywhere. You’re not entirely supportive of who he is as Joker, because you want for him to still get the help and support which he so obviously needs, but you also know that you love him and that you will weather every storm with him, every storm for him, just as he always will for you. Your brown eyes bring Joker home to you every single day, just as they always have, and you come to sync up your hair dying routines: when you dye your hair purple, Joker dyes his green. You help each other out with this, bonding over your vivid colours, and as the green and the purple flecks merge and blend together in the ceramic sink, tinged yellow with age, Joker realises that he’s finally home; body, mind, heart and soul. You are his home. Joker is extremely protective of you, and where he used to take punches to defend you, now he gives them out, too, not giving people a chance to retract anything they say or do to you. You get what you fucking deserve, as he once so famously said, and it’s not unusual for you to have to tend to his injuries, just like you had to tend to his bruises when he used to take beatings, the poor man. You’re creative and so much of how you used to spend your days together remains to be the same; Joker wants to show you that he’s still the same man he’s always been, even after his mental break, but he just no longer cares about what the world may think of him. You still spend quiet evenings together, with you writing and Joker either reading his old battered brown journal or watching the news quietly. He does everything he can to show you that he’s still himself and you only love him deeper for who he is. In truth does Joker love you just as deeply. You’re his entire world and he makes sure that you know that.

Your spontaneous nature works perfectly with Joker; by now is he used to being up all hours of the night, to doing things just because he can, so when you wake up at 3 AM wanting to go for a walk somewhere, Joker’s probably coming in through the front door after a night of doing who knows what (you’ll find out in the morning, you’re sure, when you finally watch the news), and he’s ready to go out again when you are! You’re very clingy and you love to cuddle and Joker adores all the ways you love on him, just like you used to. Really, nothing much has changed in your relationship, apart from the fact that Arthur no longer cares. He’s so cuddly with you and even when he’s busy, he always has time for you. If he doesn’t, then he makes time for you; you’re always his number one priority. You always have been and you always will be. You’re his one and only and no matter what kind of mood he’s in, he welcomes your touches and he always wants more of them and of you. Sometimes Joker’s too pent up to be touched but he learns over the days and weeks to let you in, to let you help him, and really, he loves you too much to ever fully push you away. Even when everything in him is screaming at him to get up, to run, to get out, because his various mental illnesses are now untreated and who knows how that will show itself within him, Joker will remain still. He may be stiff in your hold but after a few moments, he’ll relax into you just like he always will. You have PTSD, as does Arthur, and he understands. By this stage in your relationship, Arthur knows exactly how to help you, how to support you and how to be there for you, and there’s still nothing that he wouldn’t do for you. It’s not always sunshine and rainbows, nothing ever is, and if it’s ever too good to be true, that’s because it is and you should run, dearheart, but time and again do the two of you fall back together because there is so much love between you. No matter how rough it gets, no matter how difficult things are for either of you, there is always love and that’s what matters most of all! You are almost always touching in one way or another, that is another thing which has never changed, and when you’re cuddling, Joker likes to press kisses to your self-harm scars; just like he always used to. To replace your marks of pain and suffering with marks of love and understanding is something which he still loves to do, and again and again do you look at Joker and you see him, just as you always have. You love each other so deeply and it is the saving grace when times are so rough that you wonder what the point of everything is. The point is each other and you remind each other of that fact every single day, so in love are the two of you that you don’t even have to try; you just are. The best things in life defy explanation.

Joker adores your style. You are so you and when he is out and about in the city he likes to look for things which he thinks you would like; he usually grabs them quickly and tucks them under his blazer. He can run fast and he is never worried about getting caught. One day that will catch up to him, but for now will he present you with gifts with a flourish fitting the clown he is and a proud smirk. He knows you so well. Even to this day, months later from the day he first met you, he really admires you and your courage to dress the way you most like to. And now, with Arthur out of his old high school clothes and into a brightly coloured, highly recognised suit, the two of you dress like stark opposites to each other if Joker goes out in public. When he goes out bare faced and in his older clothes, though, the two of you are still contrasted, especially because Arthur wears his bright yellow hoodie. This contrast only makes Joker stay close to you; you are different in some ways but for every difference is there a similarity and he clings to those as surely as he clings to your hand. Your hair means that you stand out in a crowd, but Joker loves that - he knows that you’re real and actually with him when people double take when you walk past them. Most of the souls in Gotham are apathetic to the things which go on around them so people barely notice your hair colour, but Joker cherishes the small reminders that you do exist. It makes him hold your hand a little tighter, his fingers interlocked with yours even as he smirks over at you. On Hallowe’en, he likes to ask you to do his makeup and you match on those nights and Joker loves to dance around in the streets with you, your piercings glinting in the soft orange glow given off by the street lights, people staring but the two of you uncaring… You have glasses and Joker still doesn’t touch them unless you have left them somewhere which could be dangerous, like the edge of the sink, but he also likes to tap upon one of the arms of your glasses by way of asking you to remove them so that he can see you. This is especially true if you’re crying, so he can wipe your tears away directly from the source, a soft smirk on his lips. Oh, how he loves you. There is nothing that he won’t do for you and that’s always been true and it will always be true.

When you’re out and about in the streets with Arthur and someone turns their shoulder so that you don’t walk into them, they’re either being polite or they’re intimidated by you. Sometimes you can shrug it off, always assuming the best in people, but when Joker can see that you have been upset by it, so intuitive is he and so well does he know you, he only grips  your hand tighter and he says something like, “it’s okay, I know who you are. That’s all that matters. People think they know me too, and,” He shrugs, smirking, but you can see the pain in his beautiful sea green eyes, “They don’t. But you do. And that’s enough for me.” the it has to be goes unspoken but you hear it anyway and you squeeze his hand by way of silent understanding. So much of what passes between the two of you is unspoken because you just know each other so well that you don’t even need to speak - you can see it in each other’s eyes. No matter what happens, no matter where you go or who you become, Joker loves you. You’re his everything; your love for him is the weapon against the world which he keeps locked and loaded, his finger on the trigger even though he knows that you’ll protect him so well that he doesn’t even need to bother to defend himself. He loves all of you for exactly who you are, just as you love all of him, and there’s nothing which the two of you wouldn’t do for each other. The best things defy explanation and, oh, not even Shakespeare himself could adequately describe the love which exists between the two of you. You’re written into the very fabric of the universe.

[negasonicimagines]

Steam

request: Hey idk if you're taking requests, but could you write a fem Reader x ellie where Reader has fire and ice powers and one day she sees Ellie training or something and burns/freezes something around her? And like, they aren't dating yet, but almost everyone knows they have a thing for each other

notes: Rogue’s appearance is based off her look in X-Men Evolution! I totally had a crush on her as a kid, didn’t even realize it lol… I feel like this might not be quite what the requester was looking for, but I did my best & I’m always willing to do a redo!

warnings: internalized homophobia, unrequited love (not the reader), nothing else really

“Hey, E, what do you want on the pizza? I’m buying,” you offer your best friend that you happened to be in love with. She was oblivious. So oblivious. Especially for a girl who could see at least a little bit of the future.

If she wasn’t oblivious, she was hiding it well enough that you knew she didn’t like you back, so, either way, your love life was raw-fucking you in the ass with fifty Shrek dicks.

You were talking on the phone, as you were in different rooms. (With different roommates. That sucked. But Rogue was nice, and the two of you had developed a pretty good friendship.)

“I don’t really care. No anchovies, though,” she replies, and you make an embarrassingly dorky expression of disgust that you’re glad she can’t see.

“I would’ve thought that was obvious,” you tell her, but not in a mean way. Just teasing. “I’ll just get a cheese with extra sauce, yeah?”

On Fridays, students were allowed to go out and get food or order food to the house. It was a chaotic web of Taco Bell, McDonald’s, and random pizza joints.

“That works,” she tells you. Ellie seemed a bit short. (Not height wise, though she was short, she seemed short with her words this evening.) Sure, that could’ve been written off as typical Ellie… For most people. You knew better.

“Everything okay?” You wonder, a bit concerned.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?” she asks, sounding defensive. Her defense is a good offense, really, so it rattles you a bit.

“I don’t know, you just seem off...” you admit quietly. You’d always been a little bit sensitive, especially when it came to Ellie, and the sharpness of how she was speaking threw you off guard. You were only trying to be a good friend, the kind of friend Ellie deserves. Not the loser with a disgusting crush that you saw yourself as.

“I’m s- I’m not off. What are you talking about?!” she snaps, and you know you’re in for it now.

“Never mind, I’m sorry.” Now, you were defensive, though you had a more retreat-into-yourself defensive mode, while she had the opposite. (Obviously, have you seen her powers?)

“Whatever. Just- Ugh- Whatever,” she replies.

“I’ll bring the pizza to you, okay?” You offer, trying to shift the conversation back to the easier, happier start.

“Don’t bother,” she spats.

“Oh. Um.. Okay.. Bye, I guess,” you respond, biting your lip nervously. You’re so nervous, you hang up before she can reply.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look that sad before... I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look sad,” Rogue comments. There was a reason for that lack of sadness: Ellie. You don’t even reply, flopping on your bed. “Whoa... What the hell is going on?”

“She’s mad at me... She’s totally mad at me... I don’t even know what I did wrong,” you explain.

“You mean Ellie? She’s mad at everyone, you know that.”

You sigh.

“It’s her thing,” Rogue adds to her statement.

“I guess. I just thought my thing was being the one person she wasn’t always mad at.”

“No, your thing is being all cute and freezing or burning something when you’re surprised or feel a strong emotion,” she disagrees.

You scoff, rolling over so that you face her.

“Cute?” You ask, though. That was rather sweet of her to say.

Rogue nods.

“Hey, do you still want to get a pizza?” she offers.

“Not that hungry,” you admit.

“You say that now...” Rogue remarks with a teasing smirk, and you find yourself smiling again.

“Yeah, yeah…” you admit. “We’ll split the cost.”

“It’s, like, ten dollars,” she argues.

“Let me,” you request, giving a bit of a pout and some puppy eyes.

“Fine...” She concedes, turning away a bit. You don’t notice, but her face reddens slightly.

When the pizza gets there, Rogue can feel Ellie’s glare burning in the back of her head as you both answer the door. You seem unaware of Ellie’s observations. Rogue keeps it that way.

She knew Ellie fractured your surprisingly fragile heart so quickly, because you weren’t as subtle about your feelings as you probably thought. Rogue looks at you with a sigh. She’d give Ellie (who is even less subtle, somehow) a similar look, one without the same longing, if she wasn’t afraid of being blown up.

However, neither of you would ever believe the truth if she told you.

Rogue sighs again.

“Everything o-?” You stop yourself, not wanting to piss your other close friend off.

“I’m alright,” Rogue tells you reassuringly, hesitantly putting a gloved hand on your shoulder as the two of you walk back to your room with the pizza.

If Ellie’s glare was hot before, it was the fucking sun, now.

That time, you do feel someone looking at you. Rogue urges you forward before you can see who it is, though.

“You’re a good friend, Y/N. You know that, right? That you didn’t do anything wrong?”

Rogue offered to share a bed with you tonight, to watch something together on Netflix and pass out after eating so much pizza. You’re nestled under her arm as you both watch Black Mirror. You’d watched it all with Ellie, but you enjoyed re-watching Fifteen Million Merits with Rogue.

“But I must’ve, she was so mad…” you whimper sleepily. “She hates me now, like she hates everyone else, I know it. Why does she hate me, though?”

You don’t know when you fell asleep, but you wake up, still in Rogue’s arms. She looks at you almost reverently.

“How can you stand to be so close to me? If I accidentally touch you, even for a moment, I could-”

“I trust you. You’re my friend, you’d never hurt me,” you tell her, going to check your phone.

Ellie hasn’t texted you or anything. You didn’t even want an apology, you just wanted your best friend. The one you were in love with.

Later, you sit in the library, playing chess by yourself.

“Why are we even giving him a tour? He’s not going to be living-” Ellie is suddenly cut off. She sees you. “Hi.”

“Um, hey,” you reply, so eloquently. The white pawn you’re holding burns to a crisp with your nerves, and you drop it, hissing in pain. A man in a red and black super-suit is accompanying Piotr and Ellie. Deadpool, you remember Ellie describing him.

“Y/N, this is Wade, or Deadpool. Wade, this is Y/N. She is pyrokinetic and cryokinetic,” Piotr explains.

“Whoa, so you literally play with fire? And ice?!” Wade asks, actually sounding impressed.

“I’m not the only one here,” you mumble, and Ellie narrows her eyes at you. You roll your eyes at her, now a little pissed off. She gets to be an asshole to you, but you say one thing that brushes hands with self-deprecation and she’s going to act like it’s so offensive.

You know you’re acting like an over-dramatic brat, but, hell, you had a right to be dramatic.

“Let us proceed to the training room, shall we?” Piotr offers.

“If these two got even the slightest bit angstier, I think the world would implode. Let’s go!” Wade decides enthusiastically.  

Ellie, Piotr, and Wade leave.

“So, when did you two break up?” Wade asks Ellie once they’re out of earshot.

“Excuse you?”

“Sadly, Ellie and Y/N never dated,” Piotr sighs.

“Sadly?!” Ellie asks.

“What?! They act like they had a terrible breakup!” Wade is astounded, clearly.

“I’m not-! I don’t-!  She’s a girl!” Ellie protests.

Wade huffs out a laugh, and Piotr gives him a stern look.

“Nah shit she’s a girl, puddin’.”

“Language,” Piotr scolds. “And-”

“Are you trying to say something, Douchepool? Because I can say things, too. And by say things, I mean burn you to ashes. Try regenerating then, you used condom,” Ellie snarls, stomping away. Her feet leave scorch marks in the floor and smoke curls off of her shoulders.

“Dear goodness,” Piotr says.

“So, she- Oh… Oh shit!” Wade finally gets it.

“Obviously,” Piotr grumbles, and the two continue. They had been giving Wade a mini-tour as while he wasn’t going to be an x-man, he agreed to help them more regularly. 

“I did a dumb thing,” you later tell your own mentor, Emma Frost.

“And what could that be?” she asks.

“Don’t act like you don’t know,” you grumble at the telepath.

“Well, from what I can tell, someone was strangely over-dramatic and lashed out at her best friend for no reason. And that someone wasn’t you. So, I have no clue what you did that was so dumb… Except for investing your feelings into someone so in denial of her own identity… And then continuing to become closer to someone far more open about her interest in you… Ah, I’ve said too much. Let’s talk about your grades, hmm? You seem to be doing very well.”

You look at her with wide eyes.

“What do you look so look so surprised for? You have almost all As,” Ms. Frost informs you with a smirk. “Speaking of almost, I really do think you can do better in History.”

“I’ve got to go,” you say, striding to your dorm quickly. You needed to talk to Rogue, and then Ellie.

Conveniently enough, they’re trading blows outside your door. It’s kinda hot, but you don’t want Ellie to hurt Rogue, or vice versa. (Especially vice versa.) Steam rises off of you, your hot and cold powers both presenting at once in excitement as Ellie shoves Rogue. Then, you remember that you also care about Rogue and don’t want her to be seriously hurt.

“Hey! What the hell?!” you yell your inquiry in hopes of gaining their attention. Ellie’s fist stops just inches before reaching Rogue’s chiseled cheekbone.

“I can explain. She- She just said that- And Wade, before- And I- I-” Ellie stammers, looking embarrassed at being caught.

“Looks like you can’t fucking explain. There’s no excuse for any of your behavior, no matter who much you or Piotr like to pretend,” Rogue snarks.

“Shut up, Rogue,” you defend Ellie, and they both are shocked at your boldness. “We all have our faults, we all make mistakes. One of my mistakes being that I led you on last night. I- I don’t like you like that, Rogue. So, lay off Ellie. It wouldn’t impress me either way.” At your confession, Rogue sighs in what you sense is prepared acceptance. Ellie looks a bit smug. “And Ellie: You can’t act like I’m yours if you’re not gonna step up. You can’t be jealous of someone nice, someone brave like Rogue making advances towards me if you’re not going to.”

“I- Like I- It’s hard to accept that I like you when I haven’t even accepted that I like girls, period,” Ellie bares her shame. You’re filled with remorse at not being more understanding of her plight. “But I do. I’d do anything for you, you’re my best friend. You’re more than that to me, I think you always have been. I’m- I’m sorry I didn’t see it, even when everyone else did, apparently.”

“Huh?” You understand what she says, mostly, but the last bit confuses you. Everyone else?

“According to Rogue here, there’s even a goddamn betting pool. We’re both idiots,” Ellie scoffs.

“I’m less of an idiot,” you playfully defend yourself. “I knew I like-liked you. It was a whole thing. But, then again, I had a conspiracy theory in my head that you knew about my crush and were so uncomfortable at the thought that you were just pretending you didn’t,” you admit.

“You too?” Ellie replies, gaping.

“I’m gonna go in the dorm and let you two finish this conversation… See you around, Y/N,” Rogue, who you’d honestly forgotten was there, sullenly speaks.

“See you around, Ro-” The door slams. “There goes my other best friend. Can’t have you both happy with me at the same time, I guess,” you joke, but it stings.

“I’m sorry,” Ellie apologizes. “Really. I was scared of myself, of being even more of a freak, and I took it out on you when you saw it.”

“I guess I can let you off with a warning, but next time I’ll have to write you a citation,” you tease, and she snickers.

“What a good girlfriend,” she replies, only the tiniest amount of snark to it.

“I’m your girlfriend?” you wonder hopefully.

“Only if you want to be, but I just figured-”

You kiss her, ice seeping from your extremities. The ice freezes on the floor as it spreads, but melts on your new girlfriend’s cheeks as they increase in temperature, Ellie just barely losing control of her own powers. Steam rises again, now from where you touch each other.

She pulls away from you.

“That’s one way to make things steamy,” she taunts, but her expression is the purest of smiles as her eyes meet yours, water vapor still rising from where your foreheads are pressed together.

[ivyquinnauthor]

12, 17 and 25 for the ff writer asks please :)

Responding to the fanfic writer questions, if anyone else wants to ask some, feel free!

***12 - Who is your favorite character to write for?***

I guess since I’ve written pretty consistently in three fandoms so far, I’d list the ones that I liked the best for each or used to like. I mean, I was first in Buffy fandom so Spike. In Smallville---which I can’t write for anymore at all cause whoo boy all the scandals there turn my stomach----I liked Chloe Sullivan but again the real life terrible, literal cult stuff means I can’t do anything in that fandom anymore, and I haven’t written for that character in over 4 years. Such things happen. In Lucifer, I prefer Lucifer the most cause lots of just angst to mine but also sarcasm, lol.

************

***17) Post a line from a WIP you’re working on:***

Honestly, I have a few I spin plates for, keep up in the air, between two multi-chapter fics and a sort of interconnected series of one-shots. So, lines from the following:

A) From “Recurrence” - 

As musicals go, he appreciated ones with a more intense difficulty level and, in that regard, The Music Man left much to be desired. Doing the quid pro quo to show the lads trying out for Harold Hill how it’s supposed to be done was far from a challenge---he much preferred being out with Ella in Vegas with some Lady Luck---but he muddled through the inferior song anyway. After all, trouble with a capital T is something he knew everything about.

B) From “This Ebony Bird Beguiling” - 

He wasn’t sure how he got from playing helpful house guest, preparing sugary-laden treats for the urchin and the detective (when Chloe woke up, talk about a rough night) in a sunny beach house to giving Trixie Espinosa preening advice. Oh, don’t get him wrong. His interminable life had been nothing but bizarre, depending on whose perspective one took, but it usually didn’t vacillate between almost mind-numbingly boring and human one moment to worrying about someone else’s loose pin feathers the very next.

C) From “Queer Eye for the Chef Guy” (next Culinary Advice one-shot) - 

“I agreed to this, sort of, because you clearly need a distraction while Linda works through the whole you’re-the-devil-thing.”

Lucifer narrowed his eyes at Gary. “You have a fine talent for making the infernal and, frankly, formerly---very formerly---divine sound mundane, Preston. It’s more than a just a ‘thing.’”

Oh Christ...wait shouldn’t even think it. He'd gotten the devil extra prickly already. “Fine then. You want a project, and I want to keep Ms. Smith happy and, by extension, both my arms intact, but does it have to involve my clothes?”

“These!” Lucifer said, holding up a pair of cargo pants littering the floor. “Cannot be labeled clothes. In fact, do you have lighter fluid? Never mind I can immolate anything...”

“You can what?” And he didn’t yip, not really. Okay, maybe a little.

“Well, what all do you think I can do?”

Gary pinched the bridge of his nose. If he’d known that, he’d have just dragged his rucksack to Lux. Let Lucifer accidentally set his own bloody flat on fire.

***

And just cause sometimes I keep notes on things to do one day if little scraps of things come to mind, a couple snippets from stuff that’s just ideas and files for now:

A) From “Hair of the Dog” - 

He should send Miss Lopez home. Lucifer knew that the moment he spotted her arguing with Patrick in a very colorful and completely un-Ella-like mix of Spanish and English curses grumbling about being cut off. A good person would call her an Uber or even a private car---he could more than afford it---and send her home with a spare bottle of aspirin from under the bar to boot. Lux kept plenty of other first aid remedies around. After the hangover she was sure to have in the morning, Miss Lopez would even thank him for such chivalry. 

Except Lucifer was not a good person. 

Just a week ago, after the worst moment of his long suffering life, the detective had more than established that to her, he was not a person at all. And it was perversely impressive that in literally billions of years of existence, including permanent exile from his entire (mostly rubbish) family and burning for millennia in a lake of fire, that the detective yelling about being terrified of him would be the worst, but it was. So, no, Lucifer was not a good person or even pretending to be one right now. And he was well and truly soused for once after a steady effort at not only drinking every handle in his personal bar and half of Lux’s but also from downing more than his fair share---celestial metabolism or not---of some molly from the last party he hosted in the penthouse.

He was probably for a precious hour longer even less clear-headed than Miss Lopez. So when he pulled her away from the bar and smoothed things over with Patrick, he couldn’t quite make himself send her away, especially after she curled into his side. He definitely couldn’t refuse her suggestion to go up to the penthouse either...

B) From “What to Expect When You’re an Expecting Devil” - 

“No.”

He arched an eyebrow back at his therapist, who, to be fair, was also his former lover (and before things got utterly complicated and pear-shaped, he’d still have kept up that arrangement with her; she was that good as he found the uptight ones tended to be when they got a chance to let loose), currently the mother-to-be of his first ever nephew, and the only other person in history that he or Amenadiel knew about who was also dealing with a celestial pregnancy. Which sodding perfect. However, just because they were all kinds of enmeshed and, eventually, would be family and boy had his brother cocked that all up (literally), it didn’t mean he had to always listen to her.

If his track record was anything to go by, he rarely did.

Still, Linda kept her hand held out till he relinquished the handle and then coughed at him till he yielded the tumbler too. There were demons he’d beheaded in Hell for far less insolence. Sad state of affairs he’d reached where a wisp of a thing who couldn’t even hope to come up to his chest got him to acquiesce with merely her glare.

“First of all, if this is even...whatever Remiel thinks she senses and it’s assuredly not that because Dad likes his jokes but that’s...” He stuttered a bit there. “I am not that. Even if I were, I don’t think drinking would hurt the little larva and, maybe if it did, bully for everyone. Surely, by now you’re at least passingly familiar with Revelation?”

Linda’s glare hardened, and she gestured to the bar. “Don’t even. I’m not drinking with an angel-baby cause who even knows and you’re not going to...”

“With the antichrist?”He bit back, tone cutting, but the fight leaking from him. “If Remiel is right---and let’s all just hope she’s not because her spider sense is busted---I’m going to need to a drink or all of them worse than ever now.”

“No, Lucifer. Not self destruction for one or, well, both of you that way.”

He pursed his lips but grabbed a bottle of water from behind the penthouse’s bar instead. “Fine then. I suppose that’s the price of you being the only doctor I know who can help me out on the other end of things, you know, if Remy’s not just cracked.”

Linda blanched. “Nope not doing. First, there’s such a thing as too much family togetherness but also I’m not even close to that kind of doctor and it’s been three decades since medical school. Add in that...” she paused then, fumbling for the politic way to phrase something, he was sure.

“Right, like I said, the antichrist. Maybe. I don’t rightly know, John was very stoned when he wrote all that down. Psychadelic nightmare fuel and all that. So, then, I just go it alone, again, assuming Remy’s right?” His hand strayed to his hip because, honestly, self preserving powers of denial aside, even he knew something was really different about him these last two months.

And it shouldn’t intimidate him to have Linda waddle over to him with her eyes narrowed and, if anyone but Amenadiel ever asked him, it didn’t. Not really.

She sighed and bit her lower lip. “Okay, so not an optimal idea, but I have a friend from my residency and his son’s really talented just tends to fuck up...I mean he has his license but if you pay enough....no questions asked so that was what I was thinking?”

“Question or a statement, love?”

“Little of both, but I’m sure no booze is good booze till seven months from now.”

Lucifer drained his water. “Well, and I thought I knew something about Hell. Clearly, I was wrong.”

*******

***25) Have you ever cried writing a story?***

Yes, I have. Back when I still wrote Smallville, I have a very dark trilogy of stories called the Lara-verse. When writing two parts of that series, Black as Sackcloth and Of Wolves and Lambs, I cried because the first involved some fairly gruesome and distressing lead character deaths and because the second dealt a lot with dissociation and PTSD. Honestly, I never finished the series with the four installment because it was such a weird, hard headspace to be in that I just didn’t have the strength to go back to it. It’s on my livejournal here if anyone reads Smallville - https://legendarytobes.livejournal.com/?skip=30&tag=lara%20verse - people would have to friend me there to read, but if anyone’s that curious, feel free to.

[redpink-archive]

show me healing

“I’m here if you need a person.” small piece i was inspired to write after noticing how sad rosa looked in the show me going ep of b99, i felt like rosa’s and jake’s friendship could be expanded a lot more so this mess happened lolol also pls bear w me as this is my first time ever writing a fic omg be kind…. also shoutout to tilde (@sergeantames) for helping me edit this u are amazing ily anyways w/o further ado, here is my fic also alternatively titled rosa + jake + emotions lol

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The air is cool when Rosa steps out onto the balcony to get some fresh air. She lets out a sigh of relief; she wasn’t used to having to deal with so many emotions and so many people hugging her in such a short span of time. A part of her was grateful for her squad. She loved them all so dearly, and seeing their relieved faces when she walked back into the precinct did pull at her heartstrings, maybe even enough to make her feel like crying. She’d never tell them that, though.

The immense love that she had for her team slowly morphs into an uglier feeling, something she doesn’t even know how to describe. She sits down on one of the concrete ledges and tries to untangle her thoughts. She feels angry, she feels horrified, she feels anxious, and mostly, she feels so small. The events of the day replay over and over in her head but nothing makes sense, nothing feels real. She barely feels real herself. The last thing she remembers clearly is relaying her badge number and name to the dispatcher right before joining two other detectives who were headed to the hotel as well. Everything is a blur after that, and the only thing reminding her that she’s still alive is the coldness of the concrete she’s sitting on.

“Hey.” Rosa hadn’t heard the balcony door open and nearly jumps out of her skin as she turns to face the person who came to check up on her.

Jake.

“Sorry,” he quickly adds as he walks over to where she’s sitting. “I didn’t think anyone would be here, and I just needed to process some stuff, and the cold air weirdly makes me feel less alone.”

Rosa turns her head back and focuses her eyes on the building that she had been staring at before Jake came.

“Yeah, the cold air is the only thing reminding me that I’m real right now,” she says without breaking eye contact with the building. She feels Jake sit down next to her on the concrete.

“How are you, Rosa?” His voice is soft, and this has more of a profound effect on her than she was expecting it to. She pulls herself together and turns back to him.

“I- I don’t know, I’m fine.” She watches Jake’s brow furrow, and swivels her head back to face the building. She doesn’t need sympathy, she just needs time to forget. She already feels herself repressing the events of the day, and she’d rather leave them at that instead of trying to unpack those events right now with Jake.

“I understand if you don’t want to talk. I just hope you know that I’ll always be there for you if you ever find yourself in a bad place, ok?” The simplicity of his statement is highlighted by his matter-of-fact tone. They’ve been through a lot together, and she knew that he always had her back. “I’m here if you need a person,” he adds.

She wasn’t expecting to reply, but her words spill out faster than her brain can think to stop them. “I don’t know how I got back, Jake. I told you that it was prank, and that I didn’t use the elevator on purpose, but honestly, I can’t remember walking back into the precinct. I literally think I just saw stairs and climbed up them, uninhibited, and ended up on the fourth floor. After I responded to the call, I think my brain switched to autopilot because I don’t remember making any conscious choices, I just remembered my training. I didn’t even feel like a person.” She wasn’t used to sharing so much about what she felt to others, even though she had known Jake the longest out of all of the detectives in the 99th precinct. She felt so exposed, but even that did not stop her from continuing.

“I do remember thinking about what if I died right there. A part of me was ready, I think, to die.” She’s shocked at her own revelation, but the more she thinks about it, the more she realizes that it was true. Rosa had been ready to sacrifice herself. For the job. For the civilians caught in the crossfire. For the people who left their homes today and didn’t return, and the families who they left behind.

“Were you really?” Jake’s voice cuts through Rosa’s thoughts like a knife. It sounded too hoarse to be his own voice, and he hadn’t noticed that he’d been holding his breath the whole time she was talking. Rosa looks down at her hands.

“Yeah,” she starts, “but I would have missed you guys a lot.” She lets out a small smile and looks up at Jake, but quickly looks back down when she sees him staring off into the distance with eyes that were a little too shiny. After a brief awkward silence between them, she gently nudges his shoulder.

“Hey, I’m sorry for freaking you out with what I said. I don’t really know where a lot of that came from.”

Jake promptly turns his attention back to Rosa. “No, no, please don’t apologize. I wasn’t even there when it happened, I don’t know why …” He trails off, struggling to find the right words to say what he feels but Rosa cuts him off.

“You know, on the way back here, I thought about you a lot, and all the stuff we’ve gone through together, and how scary it was to not have you there in a time of crisis. I mean remember being on Hawkins’ task force? That was some scary shit. And going to jail? Even more scary shit. But it was easier to go through it with my best friend, you know?” She watches Jake hastily rub his eyes with his sweater sleeve. He lets out a soft chuckle.

“Best friend? Some best friend I am, I don’t even think we got a chance to talk about what happened on that task force after everything ended and we came back.” Jake lets his anger seep into his words. He had always regretted not sitting down and talking with Rosa about the task force and the trial and being in jail for months. Sure, the whole experience had made him doubt his decision-making skills for a while after he witnessed firsthand how easily it was to be able to put away two innocent people. He became more cautious when determining the guilt of a potential suspect. It’s what made him a better cop, according to Holt. “You see it as a weakness, but it means you’re growing,” he had told him. But what about Rosa? How had the experience affected her?

She steps in before he has a chance to continue. “Hey, that’s equally my fault. I mean, I could have also initiated something.” Jake looks unconvinced, so she backtracks. “Okay, fine, I probably wouldn’t have, but it’s fine. You had a lot of things going on, you proposed!” Jake’s face lights up at the memory of that night and his huge surprise to Amy, and Rosa laughs at his very predictable reaction. “There was no reason for us to talk about it in the midst of all of that,” she shrugs.

“But that’s not the point of a friendship,” Jake argues. “Any person can be there for you when it’s convenient. Friends are supposed to make room in their schedule for you, especially when you’ve know each other since the Academy, and especially when you’re best friends,” he tells her.

“You know, I always considered you my closest friend because you didn’t try and talk to me about personal matters. Back then, it seemed like everyone was always itching to know everyone else’s ‘story’,” she says while making air-quotes with her fingers and rolling her eyes. “You were just content to test out the cool guns that were there, and it was refreshing.”

“Okay, there’s no need to make me out to be some sort of gun fanatic,” Jake huffs, making Rosa laugh again. “And while that may have been true at first, I think we’ve come too long of a way to not be able to be more open about how we feel out on the field, because … you’re right. It is scary out there, and it’s too easy to let that consume you. I mean, doesn’t a small part of you want to be more like the Swedes?” Jake breaks into a smile, eyes glittering, but not for the same reason as before.

“God no, and I’ll have someone mercy kill both of us if we ever end up like that,” Rosa deadpans while Jake struggles to contain his laughter.

“You KNOW people that can do that kind of stuff?” He asks incredulously, and Rosa makes a face.

“Oh come on! You were just telling me how long you’ve known me for!” She pretends to be offended at Jake’s gross underestimation of her vast amount of connections with shady people. Jake looks equal parts amused, impressed, and worried. She lets out a chuckle, but it’s quickly replaced by silence. “But I do want to thank you for looking out for me. I know I have a hard time talking about stuff like this but I appreciate you trying.” She pauses for a second, then continues. “And I’m sorry for not realizing that our friendship isn’t something that we can just half-ass.”

“That’s right, we must full-ass it!” Jake exclaims, a part of him actually being genuine. He transitions quickly back into being serious. “I’m sorry, too. I was really worried about you being alone and in danger-”

“I wasn’t alone, Jake,” Rosa reminds him.

“Well you were without the squad, our squad, so, a part of you was alone,” he justifies himself. “But, yeah, we were under orders to stay back, and I felt like I wasn’t doing anything to help so went directly against Holt and left with the intention of helping out at the hotel. But I hadn’t even gotten to my car before I realized that Holt was right, and that the squad needed me there to help them not repress their fear about this situation. And you need the same thing, we all do. I mean, God knows me and Amy are going to talk about this when we get home. I can’t even imagine what would happen if one of us…,” he trails off, lost in thought, leaving the sentence suspended in thick air. He shakes his head and continues. “The point is, emotions are hard, and we are all still learning how to express them in healthy ways, and I want you to learn with us.”

Rosa sighs. “I want to, too,” she manages to say after the bit of silence that passed while she was digesting Jake’s words. And she really did want to.

[skystonedclouds]

Battle with Sin.

I sometimes see people wondering “How can I better fight sin?”. I think part of it is trial and error. I will give out some methods that have helped me. I want you to feel free to add your own. It is a war so having good battle plans, sharing tactics and equipping ourselves is essential. It will sound a little cliche at first.

1. Knowledge and faith. The word of God is our sword, shield and amour.

Ephesians 6:11-20 Put on the whole armour of God, that ye may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil. For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places. Wherefore take unto you the whole armour of God, that ye may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand. Stand therefore, having your loins girt about with truth, and having on the breastplate of righteousness; And your feet shod with the preparation of the gospel of peace; Above all, taking the shield of faith, wherewith ye shall be able to quench all the fiery darts of the wicked. And take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God: Praying always with all prayer and supplication in the Spirit, and watching thereunto with all perseverance and supplication for all saints; And for me, that utterance may be given unto me, that I may open my mouth boldly, to make known the mystery of the gospel, for which I am an ambassador in bonds: that therein I may speak boldly, as I ought to speak.

Hosea 4:6 My people are destroyed for lack of knowledge: because thou hast rejected knowledge, I will also reject thee, that thou shalt be no priest to me: seeing thou hast forgotten the law of thy God, I will also forget thy children.

2. Prayer.

Just going to repeat a part from Ephesians.

Praying always with all prayer and supplication in the Spirit, and watching thereunto with all perseverance and supplication for all saints;

Matthew 26:40-41 And he came to the disciples and found them sleeping. And he said to Peter, “So, could you not watch with me one hour?Watch and pray that you may not enter into temptation. The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak.” 

This verse really hits home. It makes me think we are like in the trenches watching for when to detonate the explosives (by praying to God our secret weapon). We must actively be watching for when we sense the devil is trying to tempt us. Then when we sense it we begin praying.

I sometimes go like “God, do you copy? I got him in my sight, he’s here alright, surrounding me from all corners”. God is like “Surrounding you say? Wonderful now we can fire from in any direction!”. I made a bit of a joke there xD

3. Resist the devil.

James 4:7 Submit yourselves, then, to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you. 

Matthew 4:10 Then saith Jesus unto him, Get thee hence, Satan: for it is written, Thou shalt worship the LORD thy God, and him only shalt thou serve. 

I tend to be like “Get back, get back, you don’t know me like that! You don’t know what I really want. I want God”. Lol sorry my brother kept saying this meme around the house xD

I find that the devil tends to tempt you less with sins once you’ve successfully overcome them a lot. He may come back now and then to test the waters. 

4. Know how the devil tends to attack and that we are NOT very strong. The devil is literally just plotting, scheming and hating you. It’s kind of waste of life because you would think he could find better things to do than pick on us. It turns out this is the best way he thought he might use the time he has left.

The devil tends to attack me with questions as he did Eve. I am not sure if he does the same with you or not. I just want you to be warned this can be a method of temptation.

Avoid tempting circumstances in real life or in your own mind. You don’t “got this” and you aren’t “strong”. We got to see we really are not that strong because I’m pretty sure each of us has not gone a day without some kind of sin. I mean even if it’s not loving God with all your heart, mind, soul and strength. I would recommend not even going on the border line of sin.

To get you in a circumstance that will lead to sin he may say:

“What if you only go so far and not further?” We know this is a spiral downfall.

“You are strong enough to stop at the right moment”. Nope, nope, don’t do it.

“Is this really a sin if you only go halfway?”. Very funny...

“Just take one bite of the fruit of good and evil”. Oh wait, that one was for Eve.

I think you get the picture.

6. Remember the past. 

This one has personally helped me overcome actual sins. I remember the way it felt after I sinned. I felt bad, I felt guilty, I felt lonely, I felt distant, I felt sad, I felt I spat on the savior and so on. 

So when I am about to sin I tell myself “It is not worth it! It will just bring me down and break me into little pieces. I do not want to ever go back to that feeling! It is not worth it”. It did not do much at first I would say “I just want this so bad (It is essentially worth it)”. I then came to a point where I got so sick of feeling terrible I told myself “Yeah true it is not worth the pain that follows”.

7. Avoid fear.

I don’t know if it’s just me... I sometimes become afraid of sinning or worse afraid after sinning. I start freaking out in the morning when I wake like “What if I ruin the day with sin? What if I sin today?! What if it is the last straw?”.

Good news is we have an advocate who pleads our case and a mighty man in battle by our side we can always reach. The one who never sinned!

1 John 2:1 My little children, these things write I unto you, that ye sin not. And if any man sin, we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous:

Psalm 24:8 Who is the King of glory? The LORD strong and mighty, The LORD mighty in battle. 

Saying “do not fear” is all well and good... but how? I sometimes get so sick and tired of listening to the voice of fear and lies. “God will not forgive you”, “you crosses a line this time” sound familiar? I just get so angry at the devil and fear itself I say “I’m not letting go of God. I am going to hold on to him till my last breath. No one is taking him from my hands, no not the devil nor I even strong enough to take him away from me!”. 

Romans 8:38-39 For I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, Nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our LORD.

This comes down to not being passive in getting what you want. I will point back to the bible. Remember Jacob? He refused to ever stop wrestling with God until he blessed him. He gave him no rest! Remember the evil judge parable? The widow kept coming back. She gave him no rest! Remember that woman who came begging for help? At first Jesus even basically told her she is a dog. She did not give up arguing with him demanding that even dogs get crumbs. She gave him no rest because he was his only hope. All were willing to keep going to their last breath.

In verse 20 it says “And he said to her, ‘For this statement you may go your way; the demon has left your daughter’”. So the girl was not healed by waiting around her house hoping it be God’s will to heal her daughter. It happened because she pressed on with God. 

One verse I like when thinking of prayer is Isaiah 1:18 Come now, and let us reason together, saith the LORD: though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool.

Do you get the point? Don’t you dare let go of God. When you have sinned and failed cling all that much harder to him! Cling as hard as you feel you need! I sometimes hug my pillow to represent symbolically the act of clinging to him spiritually. 

GIVE GOD NO REST. Demand boldly that he gives you the blessing of his presence, the justice of his son and the trail of crumbs of his love. It is your right to demand in when you are in Christ. 

Romans 8:32 He that spared not his own Son, but delivered him up for us all, how shall he not with him also freely give us all things?

8. Sin fighting playlist.

1. I won’t look back. 2. Here’s my heart. 3. Not today Satan. 4. Raise the dead.

5. Soldier. 6. Anchor (remix). 7. King. 8. Rise. 9. Move. 10. The resistance.

11. As it is in heaven. 12. Warrior . 13. Lion’s den. 14. Elevated.

15. Step down. 16. Out of the fire. 17. Saved my soul. 18. Death was arrested.

19. Light a fire. 20. Love fighter. 21. Battlefield. 22. More than conquerors. 

 23. Anchor. 24. The battle belongs to the Lord.  25. Point of no return. 

26. My allegiance. 27. I am here for you.

God bless soldier. Keep up the good fight without giving up! Keep pressing on no matter how hard it may feel at times.

Matthew 24:13 But he that shall endure unto the end, the same shall be saved. 

1 John 4:4 You, dear children, are from God and have overcome them, because the one who is in you is greater than the one who is in the world. 

Romans 8:37 Nay, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him that loved us.