#instead you decided to make the internet a miserable place for all of us (AND YOURSELVES) for like two straight years

[angels-heap]

Every now and then, I stumble across conversations about how fucked up the HL(VRAI) fandom was in 2020, and it's so wild to me that the relevant "examples" are almost always individual off-putting fanworks or individual trolls and not, like, the rampant harassment. Guys, the worst part was the harassment!! The handful of people who posted fucked up shit for shock value were annoying, but the overblown response to those trolls and the ensuing harassment campaigns against anyone who could possibly be construed to have anything in common with them were infinitely worse.

... then again, I wouldn't be surprised if a lot of these folks claiming one gross-out fic ruined their fandom experience were also the same people who spread all the discourse and organized the harassment campaigns, so 🤷

[emwritesstuff]

DYNAMO | Steve Rogers x Reader | part 1.

HYDRA has made their share of human experiments. You're just one of them. One of the least successful ones. One of the least functional ones. At least your life in the facility gave you a few things: unwavering resilience, cool(ish) superpowers and a great sense of humor. Steve Rogers would strongly disagree with that last one. A single chance encounter with him reluctantly brings you into the Avengers Compound, and you're determined to make his life as miserable as you can. Feeling's mutual.

AO3 | Masterlist | Playlist (coming soon!)

notes: starting off a steve x reader/oc that I had lying around for a long time to cleanse our palates. (warnings: mentions of human experimentation, violence, cursing, stressed!steve rogers) (2.5K words)

1: THE CATALYST

In The Adventure of the Dying Detective, sir Arthur Conan Doyle wrote: “I wonder how a battery feels when it pours electricity into a non-conductor.”

Well here’s how she feels, Doyle: exhausted – drained, if we’re getting scientific – and with a massive migraine. Sometimes nosebleeds, too. That’s how you feel whenever you use your abilities. It’s never a good time, and lately it’s been getting worse.

That’s why you’re back in this godforsaken place. Not exactly back. You’ve never been here; this specific facility was basically only an archive of sorts, and when you were still HYDRA you were confined to labs and larger, safer bases.

This place is really under everyone’s nose. It sits under a parking building in Detroit, right at the corner of a busy avenue. It’s a smart choice of location, because amidst the bustle of people coming and going for their cars, nobody looked at you twice as you went in, dropped into a maintenance hatch and ambled around until you found the heavy vaulted door you were looking for.

You’re positive there’s some information about you and the experiment you were a part – the shining star, truly – of, in here. When HYDRA fell and all of its secrets were leaked to the internet, you weren’t very worried about backing up your own records. You just wanted to live.

When you’ve spent most of your life being trained and turned into a human weapon, only ever seeing the real-world during the few missions you’ve gone on, places like McDonald’s and department stores become a whole new world of wonders once you get to experience them.

But now you needed them. Soon after the fall, however, most of the data was erased by hackers that were still affiliated with the organization. Lucky you.

However, every good terrorist knows to keep physical copies for safekeeping. And if the manila files stamped with your name were anywhere, they had to be here. Or in at least 3 other places just like this one, but you had already checked the first couple of them, and the other was blown to shit by Tony Stark and his little avenging friends.

They were really very good at that – blowing things up and causing havoc everywhere they went. Aliens, HYDRA, murderous crazed robots – whatever the enemy might be, something was sure to be exploding. And in the end, they’re still revered as heroes. Must be fun.

Anyway. Back to the files.

There’s immensurable amount of them, and they were meticulously organized, thank god, but you still decide you’d go through each one just in case.

You’re not in Assets. Also not in Agents. Or Work in progress.

Either way, it has to be here somewhere. Just maybe misplaced. Or concealed.

This place is basically your last hope, before you’re obligated to hunt down the hackers you know of and squeeze the information out of them instead. One of them has to have kept a copy somewhere, but these people were hard to find, and you are starting to feel like you’re running out of time.

The migraines and nosebleeds are getting more frequent, lasting longer, and hurting more. Not to mention the amount of times you lost control and fried every electronic on the vicinity. You could walk into a hospital, but that would probably mean getting dragged to the Raft as soon as the American government took notice of your existence.

And you seriously doubt any regular doctor would know how to deal with… whatever is going on with you.

You don’t miss your former life at all – but at least the scientists and doctors in HYDRA kept you somewhat stable. You survived this far, so someone is to blame.

It must be the adrenaline, but right now you feel great. No spots, no headache. Bouncing on your heels, bobbing your head to the music on your earbuds, while you rummage through an ocean of paper. The archive has been long abandoned, a thick layer of dust covering every surface you hadn’t touched. It’s dead quiet, too, and you start thinking you might spend the night.

It’s been a while since you’ve rested your head in a quiet place, where you didn’t have to look over your shoulder every two minutes. Yeah, that’d be fucking nice.

You’ve been on the run for god knows how long. In fact, you do know – it’s been a little over a couple of years since the public downfall of HYDRA, and everyone you used to know was either arrested, dead, or had gone underground like the rats they were.

You like to distance yourself from your former peers, mostly because if you knew they were all a bunch of Nazis – or if anyone had told you they were actually the bad guys – you probably would have found a way out sooner. Imagine your surprise, finally being free to live in the real world and finding out that everything you’ve been taught was fabricated. Still, authorities weren’t about to make that distinction so, like a HYDRA rat, you also went off the grid.

It’s safe to say you don’t really trust people these days.

You hate it, having to live in hiding. You’re not really very good at it, to be honest. It’s hard being coy, and you wear your heart on your sleeve; your face betrays you when your lack of skill for lying doesn’t. Half-truths and misdirection are the only things keeping your anonymity intact lately, and it works as long as you lower social interaction down to almost zero.

Having to decide whoever looks like they would ask the least amount of questions is exhausting. So is dodging those questions. Dodging bullets is easier. You’d backflip your way out of a full cartridge before facing a 10-minute conversation with someone.

You huff in frustration. The dust that now swirls in the air makes your eyes dry and your nose itch, you’ve already been through what’s probably a good fifty files and still, you found nothing. Not even a mention to your name or your identification number.

You scratch their faint marks on your forearm absentmindedly.

It should be here.

You’re starting to get a little offended, even.

“Can’t find what you’re looking for?”

A male voice coming from the door gets you to stand in alarm. Its owner is tall and wears a navy tactical suit, and you can make out his striking blue eyes even in the dim light of the room. He’s carrying a shield, painted in red, white and blue.

You stare at Captain America, and he stares back. He’s blocking the door you entered from. From your earlier survey you know there’s a possible exit to your left, but you doubt you can get there before that oversized dinner plate of his slices you in half.

“Who are you?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, Cap.”

He scowls at you and you give him a smile, a crooked thing that makes you look a little crazy. “Are you HYDRA? Nat— Yes. We got company.”

So, he came with a team. Cute. Just like the comics.

“Used to be, technically. I’m done with that life.”

He cocks his head. His gaze pierces through you like laser sight.

Now there’s someone you don’t want to be trapped in a conversation with.

“So why are you here?”

You sigh. Too many questions, not enough fucking off to wherever sunny green fields he lives with his superhero friends in.

“I must’ve left my library card in here somewhere. You’d think no one would care that much about Tolstoy, but they do.” 

“Do you really think this is the time for jokes, agent?”

You watch him as he tightens his hand around his shield, and moves his feet towards you a few inches. “Ah ah – I wouldn’t do that.”

He takes another step, and you narrow your eyes.

“I don’t feel like fighting today, so. Don’t.”

“Aren’t you done with the life? You shouldn’t be considering me your enemy.”

“Do you rehearse those lines or what?”

Cap clenches his jaw. It brings you a strange kind of satisfaction to annoy him. A small victory, knowing you can get to him like that.

Yet you still feel like you’re a gazelle being hounded by a lion.

There’s still a considerable distance between you, but you know he’s strong and fast, stronger and faster than you, especially when you haven’t trained properly in so long.

And Captain America hates HYDRA. He wouldn’t hesitate in kicking your ass.

“This doesn’t have to end in a fight. Come with me, and share your intel.” He puts his shield down, and you furrow your eyebrows.

He’s wrong. It always ends in a fight. That’s just how the world works.

“You might even get a lighter sentence.”

Of course. That’s what this was about: you giving them everything you know and then getting locked up. As a treat.

“I’ll pass. I do value my freedom, I’m sure you’ll understand. Considering.”

Gesturing vaguely to his outfit, you dip down to continue rummaging through the next box of files, even finding one with the 2006-7 New Year’s Eve Party planning, but nothing about your program. Priorities.

“I can’t let you walk out of this. I’m sure you’ll understand, considering.”

You snicker.

So much for having a good day with no headache.

On the wall to your left there’s an outlet. You put your hand over it, and the electric current floats towards your palm as if it was liquid. The lights start to flicker.

“What—” You hear Captain America stammer, and you chuckle. So blissfully ignorant.

He has no idea of the freak of nature you are. Well, not really of nature. You’re more of a synthetic made kind of freak.

More energy flows into you, and the room goes dark. You rise to your feet and watch electricity crackle around your fingers, illuminating your face with a blue glow. You don’t see the Captain anymore, but you do see the glint of the shield as it’s being lifted up.

You’re sure he sees you, but he’s probably too stunned trying to process what you just did.

“Apologies in advance.”

When you extend your arms in front of you, palms aiming to the spot where you think he might be, you can’t see much.

After power flashes out of you, everything is clearer. The bolts light up the space between you and him, much narrower than you calculated, and you have to adjust your position so you can hit him.

He gurgles and shakes like a fish out of water once it reaches him, blinding blue and white encasing his body like a cocoon. He drops to the ground.

It feels like hot water in your veins until it’s burning.

It hurts, it hurts like a bitch, and as Captain America is convulsing on the floor your groans turn to wails. You haven’t done this in a while, and you forgot how much pain there is when the fuel starts running out.

You stop after a few seconds, dropping your hands at your sides, and stumble into a metal shelf when your balance falters. You could never stand using your powers for very long. But this time you don’t have to. Cap is immobile on the floor, only his eyelids twitching. Maybe you went a little hard on him.

You’d feel more sorry if he didn’t want to arrest you.

At least he’s alive. That’s something.

You taste something ferulic and wet when you lick your lips. Nosebleed.

One. Two. Three.

Your heat starts throbbing, and suddenly even the dim light is too much on your eyes.

There’s the migraine.

You were almost returning to your search when you hear the faint voices coming from his intercom. Cap? Rogers, over. Steve, you there? Over.

Rogers groans, starting to stir up. You had to get out of there, and fast, before the rest of his friends came to the rescue.

Fuck it, you could always come back another time. Or even go after those hackers already, because you doubted this place would be up for much longer, now that the Avengers knew of its existence.

You wipe your nose on the sleeve of your hoodie, grab your backpack and slip through the left exit, leaving America there to deal with his own future headache.

It took a while for Steve Rogers to recover his senses. He gained control of his eyes first, finding himself staring at a humidity stained ceiling. His extremities were tingling, and his insides felt like soup.

The burning sensation on the surface of his skin subsides after a while. His heart is racing, and he can’t really remember the last time that happened. Or why. Right now, it’s because he just got attacked by a human defibrillator.

Steve? What’s going on, Cap? Over.

He needs a minute to realize the voices are in his earpiece, and not hallucinations in his head.

I’m starting to worry, Rogers. Over.

He groans, rolling over. “M’ here. Over.”

Steve hoists himself up, thinking the girl must’ve fried his pain receptors, because his toenails hurt. And his earlobes, and his right leg. He shakes his head as if his ears have water in them.

She’s gone. For a second, he even doubts she was there at all, but there are footprints on the dusty floor, leading all the way to a door on his right.

Who—?

“Damn, you look rough.”

“What the hell happened?”

Natasha Romanoff and Bucky Barnes show up through the same hallway he had come from earlier.

“I—I got electrocuted, I think.”

“You think?!”

Steve picks up the shield, panting.

“There was a— girl. She’s some kind of enhanced. Can’t have gone far. I’ll explain later.”

His body regains its normal functions as he’s trudging through empty corridors, Bucky and Nat at his heels. He still feels a little frazzled, but it could be worse, and he’s thankful it was him and his serum-improved body at the receiving end of the lightning.

It could be so much worse.

As it turns out, the girl is nowhere to be found, not a trace to be followed even after the trio splits up to cover more ground. Bucky insists Steve needs to be checked at the med bay ASAP. Natasha assures him that they’ll clear out the facility afterwards, even if she’s convinced none of the paper files have anything of relevance anymore.

The girl seemed to be looking for something in there, though, and Steve remembers reading frustration and dread on her wide, doe-like eyes.

She didn’t even look like someone who could be an agent, though due to the too-large hoodie she wore there wasn’t much to analyze anyway. That gets him intrigued.

Steve has a hard time letting go of things. Especially open-ended things. He spent nearly two weeks obsessing over the ending of Blade Runner, because he needed a goddamned definitive answer.

He needs to know, like he needed to know if Deckard was human or replicant.

He’ll find her.

You can’t shake the feeling that you’ll be seeing him and his team again. Maybe they’ll hunt you down, since there was a big demand for ex-HYDRA people they could fill jailcells with.

Whisking away along a maze of corridors and endless doors, you manage to find a second vaulted door. You leave the whole facility undetected, hopping out a window and disappearing in a back alley.

Maybe you are a rat.

[a-boca-do-inferno]

Prague getaway (jack ryan x female oc)

summary: “Oh, loosen up already.” Randy leans back and shoots him a teasing look. “We’re gonna be here a long time, might as well hold hands and start singing Kumbaya.”

warnings: angst, blood, violence, swearing.lots of it, light smut, fluff

words: 10.7k (:O)

notes: jack ryan girlies rise!! i put my whole pussy in this. also its my first time ever writing with an oc so bear with me lmao.

CENTRAL EUROPE

Birds chirped outside and the loud chatter coming from the street was a bit distracting from the sound of TV, but Randy managed. Her plate faced her on the coffee table, now empty, along with a half filled cup of apple juice. It must have been past noon while she had the time of her life laying on that dirty and ancient couch, watching some Czech program about the Internet. And by the time of her life, she secretly meant being bored as hell. Tagging along with Jack Ryan wasn’t even on the list of the worst things that could’ve happened to her given the circumstances, by the way, she’s well aware of that—seeing as her life was now on the line and he was only there to protect her—but goddamnit, was that cable shit. The things she did to put Jim at ease. 

Although the girl didn’t really agree with his tactics to go about it; Johnson just knew better than to argue with Greer. After she started getting on his nerves with her insistence on using the intel she acquired and he actually took her seriously, it had been noticeable he came to think of himself like a father figure to her, since she was a rookie in the mission department. And Randy simply let him feel that way. Being away from his family ever took its toll on the guy and contrary to popular belief, she wasn’t the clueless, selfish bitch everyone made her to be.

Always, anyway.

Jack glances at her spread out on the sofa, trying to keep his annoyance in check and failing miserably. “What are you watching?” His voice suggests he’s very affected that Randy herself doesn’t appear fazed by their current situation. At all.

They had been stuck in that shithole for six hours now, completely in the dark as to where the mission stood after the shady organisation of the moment—as Johnson liked to put it—crushed into their hotel rooms and chased them out of town. And despite not exactly considering the capital of the Czech Republic under a terrorist threat for his idea of a nice vacation, it certainly beat having to now share some dirty kitchenette in the outskirts of Prague with the most insufferable woman he’s ever met. Jack caught wind of the discrepancies in the way they did their job from the start, and to say he wasn’t pleased with hers was an understatement. Her so-called intel had led them to that place, and her negligence above it all bothered him to no end. That and the ever present snark. He wondered how in the world did that character make it to the agency. She should’ve been in publicity, instead.

“A nice TV show about ordinary people wanting to become influencers”, Johnson responds in that tone of hers, with an almost sweet smile. Ryan’s mouth moves as though he’ll say something, but decides not to. He has better things to do with his time than to argue with a brat. Jack simply stares at her green eyes and sighs, going back to his computer screen, and Randy snorts, “well, Jim did mention you don’t like having people around.” Her feet move back and forth as she watches him type. “I’m like you in that way, you know?” Closing the distance between them, she brushes some stuff off his eyelid carefully, and it’s clear the man wasn’t expecting that. He tenses up. “So, my bad. I don’t wanna be here any more than you do, but you know Greer.” 

“Is that so?” Jack blinks, scanning her face up and down wryly. “In that case, you’re free to leave anytime you want.” 

Johnson laughs heartily, contrasting his impassive demeanour. “You do have a sense of humour, Jackie! I’ll give you that.” She shrugs and grins, with a declare to her voice, “and to answer your question: maybe I’d try to, but I’m not skilled enough to outsmart a Marine, I’m afraid.” 

Jack looks away, still typing on the keyboard mechanically. “You sound like a fan.” 

“You wish.” Her orbs gleam with mischief, and she sits a bit straighter to make a striking pose. “I wouldn’t mind learning some moves, though. I’d love to kick some ass. I bet I could take you, big man.” 

Ryan chuckles under his breath, against his best judgement. It feels surreal to him, this girl. “You certainly have a unique way about yourself.” He states bluntly, raising his brows as he closes up the laptop and puts it on the small table to their side. “Don’t really look like someone in Logistics.”

Randy nods, crossing her legs with a smug expression. “I didn’t get the memo before taking the job, I guess.” 

“Right.”

“Oh, loosen up already.” She sits up and leans back on the couch, her attention going to the program running in the background for a second. “We’re gonna be here a long time, by the looks of it. Might as well hold hands and start singing Kumbaya.” 

Jack shakes his head slightly, his tone growing more serious. “You need to focus on the mission, Johnson. This isn’t a game.”

“Sure thing, dad”, she snickers, running a hand through her short hair idly. “You talk like it’s your head those fuckers want on a plate.” 

“It is too, actually.” Ryan frowns. That’s the attitude he doesn’t like. “I suggest you get your head out of your ass as soon as possible. Enough people have died because of you.” 

Although his words sting, Randy keeps a lighthearted mood. “So is that why you’re behaving like an asshole ever since we landed, you’re worried about yourself?”, she wiggles her brows, fixing a few blonde strands softly and clicking her tongue. “And here I thought you just didn’t like me.”

“I don’t have time for this”, Jack mutters to himself and leaves, closing the door to his room quietly.

Johnson only hummed along, watching as the winner of the episode celebrated on the screen. She knew Ryan was doing nothing but his duty protecting her, of course, yet it felt strangely disappointing that he, of all people, seemed to judge her so much for her actions up until that point. Randy went behind her superiors’ backs to scavenge the information that now threatened her own safety, sure, but how many times had he done the same thing again? Either way, arguing with the guy about it was just showing she cared for his opinion—which she didn’t, for the record. That cable just sucked and she was bored as hell. With a heavy sigh, the girl stood up to turn off the TV when a sound made her ears prick up. She frowned, inspecting the empty space. Something fell on the floor with a loud thud in the other room and Randy took a step back. 

“Jack?”, she calls, getting no reply. 

Her feet moved toward his door and it crashed right before her eyes, causing her to step away in reflex as two bloody men were thrown on the ground with it. With no time to process what was happening, Ryan took her by the arm and dragged her out of the apartment with no delicacy whatsoever. They ran down the stairs while he cocked his gun and whispered something unintelligible. She grabbed his forearm when another two hooded figures started closing in on them. Jack quickly got rid of the attackers and gave Randy a look before pulling her out of the building and into a car.

“Drive.” He commands, keeping his eyes behind at anyone following their vehicle. 

She obeys without a second thought, stepping on the accelerator with all her might. Johnson grips the wheel tightly as she mouths, in a shaky breath, “what the fuck is going on, Jack? Talk to me.”

Ryan braces himself as they take a harsh turn, blood dripping from his eyebrow. “They found us again.”

“Am I supposed to know what that means?” Randy gasps when a pickup appears out of nowhere, shooting at them. She makes a u-turn and steps on the pedal, watching from the rear mirror. “How the hell did that happen?”

“I don’t know, just drive!” Jack rolls down his window and fires all his rounds at the vehicle still on their tail. He goes back to his seat and reloads his pistol, looking straight ahead. “We gotta get to the Embassy.”

“Got it.”

♡♡♡

“I see.” Jim sighs through the phone call. “I still have some business here in Moscow, but I’ll be in Prague as soon as I can.” 

Jack doesn’t like the sound of it at all. He keeps track of Randy moving around in the background. “Copy.”

The ride to the Embassy was messy, but they made it in one piece. Well, Ryan did. After settling in the nice hotel the Ambassador offered them in another city nearby Prague—as to not draw any more attention to them, in his own words—, now with heavy security outside, Johnson winced when trying to change. She lifted her shirt and only then saw the ugly bruise on her abdomen, her skin sliced open and gushing blood. It was a bullet graze and albeit it wasn’t serious, the thing still hurt like a bitch. As the girl hissed and took a seat on the bed, Jack stopped in his tracks and crouched down before her. He gauged her injury with a trained eye, his lips curling in thought. 

“Remorse?” Randy laughs deeply, tilting her head. “Don’t worry, I don’t hold grudges.” She sighs and looks at him seriously, like she hadn’t been until now. “How the hell did they find us this time, Jack? This stinks. No one knew about that hideout except you, me and Greer.”

His voice drops to a lower register as he takes her arm and brings it around his shoulders to lay her down, “I’m working on it. Right now we need to focus on getting you patched up.” Jack pulls her body close to his and fluffs the pillows, making her comfortable. He tries to ignore the way her hair tickles his chin.

Johnson chews the inside of her cheek, but accepts the help. “I’m okay, it’s just a graze.” She gulps and scratches her eyelids, taking a deep breath and glancing up at the ceiling. “That pickup didn’t look cheap. These people have some serious connections here. We have to get to the bottom of this.”

“We will”, Ryan says with resolve, nodding once. He scans the room in search of a med-kit and Randy points to the bathroom. 

While Jack leaves for a moment, Johnson moves a little and pouts when the pain comes back. He catches her in the act and she chuckles, a little embarrassed, “so much for spy training, huh?”

Rummaging through the kit, he hums, “if it was easy, everyone would do it.” In the midst of pulling out the antiseptic and the gauze roll, he steals a quick peek at her.

Randy only grunts in response, her lips pursed. “Greer’s gonna get our asses for this. He doesn’t even know we left Prague in the first place.”

Jack doesn’t reply immediately. He’s finally found the right size gauze roll and puts it aside. His orbs roam her up and down, studying her exposed skin. He whispers, almost talking to himself, “he’ll get over it.”

“You know, I’m sorry about earlier”, her gaze has an amused gleam, but seems sincere. “I have been a little more annoying than normal, I’m aware. I’m sure by now you noticed why I’m not so popular among my peers in the agency, especially not after this… mess.” She looks down.

“You make it difficult for them because you can afford it”, he considers, cleaning her wound delicately. Taking note of her surprised reaction, he adds with a smirk, “I read your file. You’re not the only one who did the homework.”

After a moment of silence, she speaks up again, solemnly, “when we’re done with this, I’d like to make it up to you.” Randy sits up against the headboard with his help, now grinning, “how does pizza sound?”

His chest feels funny as Jack catches the look on her face. The offer sounds genuine and he smiles. “I’d love that. Your call on toppings.” When her bandage is finished, he puts the med-kit away in the bathroom cabinets.

“That’s right, I make all the decisions”, Johnson pushes his shoulder lightly as he sits back down, making him raise his brows but laugh along. “You learn fast. I can see why they talk so much about the analyst down the hallways, now.”

“I make them talk, huh?” Ryan tries to play it off with a soft chuckle, yet the blush on his cheeks is obvious. He leans in closer to take the phone on the bed, and with their faces only inches apart, his body can’t help but linger in that position. Suddenly the atmosphere tingles with tension and his breath hitches ever so slightly. Her eyes are breathtaking.

“Your humble act doesn’t work on me”, her voice is but a whisper, the corner of her lip lifting up ghostly. “Jim gave me the rundown on you before I came here, you know? He told me not to inflate your massive ego.”

He beams, his look dropping to her mouth, “that sounds like jealousy.” 

Randy laughs and now can’t hide her own bashfulness. She reaches for the bedside table and puts on her round sunglasses, looking away from him in a not so subtle attempt at denying his advances. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Jack.” The girl sighs heavily, unable to stare back at him for now.

Her words were clear enough. It was a bad idea, indeed. And in spite of being visibly disappointed, his facial expression stayed blank as his phone started ringing again. It was probably Jim. He thanked the heavens in silence for that call to get him out of that situation. His thumb hovered over the screen for a moment and Ryan moved away from her, pressing the answer button as he got up and left for the other room. He grabbed his jacket over the chair as he went, glancing back at Johnson before she was completely out of vision. There was a flicker of curiosity in her emerald orbs whilst Jack closed the door.

Randy went to sleep right away, in hopes to wash off the incident with Jack by rebooting her systems. Besides, she was very exhausted; so much so her bones felt like jelly under her skin. Turning on her side with all the care in the world, she shut her eyes and drifted off to sleep. Soon her body began to spasm and shake, sweat dripping from her forehead as she turned on the bed and hissed when her wound stung. She sat back up with a quiet gasp. The war nightmares were a normal thing to occur, but had been more frequent from the moment she landed in Prague. 

On the other side of the wall, Jack leaned back in a chair as he flipped through a small manila folder. His attention was glued to the paper, but his mind wondered. The sound of Randy tossing and turning on the mattress reached him and he tensed up, closing his eyes briefly as if to block out the sounds. He stayed like this for several moments before finally forcing himself to face reality. They had been running from terrorists when they should be the ones trying to catch them, and that didn’t sit right with him. Hiding wasn’t helping them in any way, out of maybe buying some time to rethink their strategy. And with Johnson hurt, Jack saw no other option but to push things forward on his own. He called Mike November the next minute, urging him to come to the Czech Republic tomorrow. They were gonna need all the help they could get. 

The hours dragged on and his thoughts kept him awake. There was no way he could sleep while Randy was alone in the other room, wounded. She wasn’t a field operative, and that meant her training would only help her so much away from him. The girl barely survived the last encounter with their attackers, all because she had been lucky enough not to be in the room they invaded first. He tried to shake off the feeling of guilt over her injury to no avail. It wasn’t serious, however it could’ve been, and the mission would’ve been compromised then. Ryan gave up on the file and sat it aside.

Regardless of not being able to figure out Randy entirely just yet, John realised he had been cultivating a fondness for her over the past events. For someone who never used a gun in her life, except maybe for her training days, Johnson kept calm and helped with what she could, no questions asked. Not everyone has that kind of self control in the face of danger and he admired her for it. She even reminded Jack of himself, somewhat, back when he was a rookie—even though he wasn’t as annoying, surely. Either way, the blonde had a grace about her. Perhaps it was that nearly youthful spirit, the playfulness even in the blink of imminent disaster. He still found it hard to believe she had made her way into the CIA without losing most of her spark by now. 

His look automatically dropped to Randy’s file, right under the mission’s. He scanned through some of the notes and reports he had been doing up until now. Johnson had been with the agency for just over four years, still her work ethic was impressive, at the very least. The only negative points were personal complaints from her previous office colleagues, most of them depicting her as a “stubborn, impulsive and rebellious, but effective agent”. He chuckled under his breath. That sounds about right. 

Jack flipped through more pages, going over her skills: communication, adaptability and problem solving were top on the list. His eyes glossed over the next sheet: relationships, but he quickly stopped himself and closed the envelope. He’s already overstepped as it is. Ryan put down the file and let out a frustrated sigh. Thinking back on the days before the mission, he remembered Jim’s words. 

“She’s a tough cookie, but you’ll get used to it.” Greer swirls his glass of Merlot casually. “I know how it looks and trust me, I’m one of the people who doubted her from the beginning, until it turned out her intel was solid. I don’t care how she got it or why, just as long as we catch that son of a bitch Jones.”

Jack could see the concerned look on Jim’s face as he delivered his briefing. He didn’t appear so confident in the girl’s abilities as he tried to come across. And while it didn’t bother Ryan perse, he had this unshakeable gut feeling that there was a lot more to Randy than what you can see at first glance. Perhaps even more so than she let Jim himself know. 

“Copy.” That’s what he said back then, nodding and staring at the table.

“And don’t even think about it”, were his boss’ last remarks as he gulped down his wine in one go. “Randy’s not Cathy, Jack. You’re there to protect her and the information she holds before Jones can get to her.” His voice sounds tight, but not really threatening. Greer’s always been a little too overprotective of the rookies. “No fooling around.”

“Jack”, Randy calls huskily. “I’m bleeding.” She complains, yawning softly. Johnson stares at the dark room and sighs, doing her best to wake up fully. “Jack.”

His eyes fixated on Randy’s picture when he heard her voice coming from her bedroom. He stood up and opened the door, flicking on the light and making his way to her bed. Her wound oozed blood under her shirt, soaking the fabric in red as it dripped down onto the mattress and he shook his head, looking at all the work he had put on the bandages now gone. 

“What the hell did you do, Johnson?”, he grumbles, running for the bathroom to take the med-kit.

“I moved”, she shrugs and tries out a playful smile, but grimaces when a sharp sting hits her like a brick. “Just… hand me the gauze and I’ll clean it up myself.” She concludes, noticing he isn’t pleased.

Jack comes back with the kit and narrows his eyes, his features remaining stoic, “sit down and put pressure on it.” He grabs her wrist to help her up, moving her back to the headboard. His lips purse as he inspects the red liquid streaming from her side. “It looks even worse than before, Jesus.”

“Sorry”, she frowns and looks away, feeling guilty for making him do this again. “I really can do it, you know? I’m not a baby.”

“Really? You’re not doing such a great job at convincing me otherwise”, he states softly, his initial anger dissipating to give room for worry as he treats her injury. She doesn’t respond, adjusting herself on the pillows. “Stay still.”

Randy sighs. “I wanna talk to Greer.”

“What for? He says he’s coming.” Jack wraps the gauze around her abdomen, holding the roll package between his teeth. “There’s nothing we can do for now. Jones is onto us. We have to be extra careful.”

“Yeah, that’s not really my style”, she huffs, visibly bothered by his decision making without consulting her. “I’m calling my contact in Roztoky. He can help us move around the city without worrying so much.”

“Your contact”, Ryan sounds unimpressed, finishing off the new bandage. He looks down at his lap for a split second, then turns his gaze back to Randy. “Don’t you think it’s time you caught me up on all of this?”

“I told you everything.”

“Did you, now?” Randy glares and he stares right on, scowling himself. “All you have done so far is get on my nerves and not cooperate with the mission at hand.”

“I don’t cooperate with you bossing me around, that’s very different”, Johnson blurts out in a single breath, looking upset. “I might not be the big shot you are in the agency, but I have a right to know where we stand because it concerns my safety too. I don’t care if I’m fucking Logistics.” 

Jack still glowers at the girl, but eventually softens his features. She’s got a point. “Fine. I called a friend just now. He’ll help.”

“Okay.” It’s all she says, and anticipating the end of the conversation, Jack moves to leave. Her hand touches his arm faintly before he does, “thanks.”

Nodding, he steps away and closes the door. 

♡♡♡

When Jim told Randy to get on the next plane to Prague only days ago, something inside of her shifted. So far she had been carrying this intuitive sensation that no matter what she did, the guys higher up would never take her warnings into consideration. And then, just as Johnson gave up and decided to do things on her own, Jones bombed a US Embassy in Europe, and announced he would keep on doing it until he was either killed or caught. Overnight, all the letters the girl sent the director of the CIA were answered and in less than a week, they stationed her and Jack in Prague. 

“Wait for further instructions. As of now, Dr. Jack Ryan will be assisting you”, was the last email Greer typed. And with that, Johnson flew with the so-called doctor to Europe. She knew all about Jack’s successful streak with Suleiman, then Venezuela and Moscow, of course. The tales of “the analyst” often made her chuckle whilst spooning her salad, since people were unable to hide their admiration—and sometimes, even envy—for Ryan as they shared his stories on lunch break. Nothing much happened on Logistics, so that had been their entertainment for a long time. Until things became erratic with the Prague bombings, that is. 

Looking back now, everything happened so quickly. Randy didn’t have a chance to take it all in. The rush was similar to her days in the army, when she had to get moving around with no time to think or feel. There was the goal and the path she’d be taking towards it, nothing else. She saw the same mindset in Ryan right away, even if their approach was fundamentally different. The blonde reckoned the Marine Corps could be stricter and, as a result, more demanding than military service. That is also why, although not hitting it off well from the beginning, she tried her best to remain friendly with him—which could include being annoying every now and then, sure, but that’s beside the point. They both possessed life experiences not too far apart that deeply shaped them into who they were today, for better or for worse, and that meant something. Jack was her. 

Only grumpier and square. 

Staring back at the table, Randy resumed eating her meal. Pancakes were her favourite dish, no matter where she was. And again, she felt lucky enough that Jack’s remorse made him go out of his way to try and fetch her some from the downstairs cafeteria. His friend Mike was funny, funnier than Ryan—not that it was hard—and she had a great time while they chatted over a nice American breakfast in Central Bohemian, Czech Republic. It almost felt as though they weren’t being chased down by assassins, and she hadn’t nearly been hospitalised for an infection in her bullet graze only the night before. 

“So?” Randy smiles brightly at Mike, urging him to speak after she briefed him on the situation. Jack had been quiet until now, because he was boring, so she took it upon herself to catch Mike up on the whole deal. If his laughter at her stupid jokes was anything to go by, she’d take a hunch and say they built a strong bond already. If only things could work like that with Ryan. “You think you can help us, Mikey?”

Michael can’t help but snort, oscillating his eyes between Johnson and Jack, who’s still eyeing his empty plate in thought, “where did you find her again?”

“Don’t ask”, Ryan finally sighs and Randy shrugs, eating her pancakes happily. He looks at November seriously. “I’m gonna need you to call your guy. We have to be in the same place as Jones, hit him when he doesn’t expect it. We’re running out of time.”

“I’m on it”, Mike nods, then glances at the girl with a grin. “How about you, sweetheart? Ready for some grown up action?”

Jack rolls his eyes at this, but Randy laughs out loud. She’s yet to get used to being treated like a damsel in distress. “Hey, I can throw a punch! Don’t let Jack poison your mind. He’s just butthurt that I got intel working in Logistics that he couldn’t as a field agent.”

“Ouch. That hurt even me.” He snickers and Ryan stands up, putting his gun inside his pants. Mike follows suit. “Just right down to business, huh?”

“I told you, we don’t have time”, Jack takes a look at Randy, who’s watching them with her chin on her hand, smiling. He clears his throat and touches her shoulder lightly, “we’ll be back before dark. Try not to hurt yourself while I’m away.”

They hadn’t mentioned the little incident last night, but when his touch found her skin, Johnson’s mind made its way back to his closeness hours prior. How he ogled her lips with no shame whatsoever, and how eager he seemed for breaking the rules for her, so to speak. It was a nice change in pace for the Jack she had come to see around that period. It also took her an enormous amount of self-control not to jump on him right then and there, however there were more important things at play. If only she wasn’t such a professional. 

Randy renders a hand salute, mockingly. “Aye, aye, sir.”

Mike smiles at Ryan. “I like her.”

As they left, Johnson sighed and stood up, going for the burner Mike brought with him so they could communicate. She called her boss in Maryland and gave him a summary of the mission, explaining Jack’s plan thoroughly. They found a way into Jones’ charity event tomorrow, courtesy of Mike’s contact. If everything went well today, she would be face to face with her target in just a few hours. Her orders were loud and clear: shoot to kill. Placing the device down, the blonde took a deep breath, looking out the window at the clean, welcoming landscape of Horoměřice. 

She was never a fan of big cities, despite being born in Los Angeles. The nice and quiet suited her better, so leaving Prague, notwithstanding she wished for better circumstances, was actually a relief. Away from the hustle of the capital, she could think more clearly. And the thought of coming back here after the operation made her happy. The people were nice and very comprehending of her ignorance of their culture—albeit she did speak a little Czech, but had to pretend not to, for the sake of her cover. Ryan still had to think she was the sweet and rebellious rookie; at least until she got the job done. 

A few blocks away, contemplating the clear, blue sky also, Jack caught himself appreciating the view for longer than he intended. The small things were ever the anchor he needed to keep moving forward, especially in this line of work. Whenever he was on a mission, time went by in a rush, and the only way to alleviate that feeling was to focus on the here and now. Nature could calm him down like nothing else, but as he watched the trees moving along with the wind, the green of the leaves slowly merged into emerald eyes he now came to know too well. Putting his hands in his front pockets, he took a peek back at the old building behind him and Mike walked out of it.

“Please, tell me you got us in.” Jack practically begs, watching him come down the stairs. He had been talking to his guy for over fifteen minutes while Ryan waited outside. 

“Did I ever let you down?” He grins, showing his phone with a party invitation on the screen. 

“Don’t make me say it”, Jack beams and nods, checking the time before heading to the car with November right behind. As they get in, he turns on the engine. “Jim’s getting here soon, but I might not catch him. You stay here and brief him on the plan. I can hold my own with Johnson.”

“Just like the old days, eh?” Mike puts on his belt. “The band’s back together.”

“With a new formation, but yeah”, he mutters, driving back to the hotel. 

“Oh, tell me about it”, Jack wants to roll his eyes at the teasing on Michael’s voice again, but doesn’t. “Actually, you don’t even have to. It’s clear you guys are already at it.”

“Stop talking”, Ryan takes a turn, stepping on the pedal. “She’s too much. You might have noticed.”

“Sounds like your type”, Mike snickers, gaining a wry look from Jack. He shrugs, measuring up the hotel as they arrive. “But I’m sure Jim wouldn’t approve. He never does.”

“I don’t care”, Jack says somewhat defensively, getting out of the vehicle with November. They make their way to the elevator and he presses his floor. “I’m not thinking about that.”

“All these years and you still think you can lie to me, Jack”, Mike positions his hands in front of his body with a smirk, the doors closing as they’re going up. “She’s into you, though. I could feel the tension.”

Jack scoffs in disbelief at his words, his face heating up. “Please, stop talking.”

“You know, it’s none of my business…”

Jack nods impatiently, not looking at him. “It isn’t.”

“But you should go for it. Friendly advice”, Mike gives him a look before they head towards the room. They stop in front of the wooden door as he finishes, “you can thank me later.”

Ryan displayed another eye roll at Michael and got inside, finding nothing but an empty and unmade bed. He stopped in his tracks and pushed Mike down when someone stepped out of the bathroom with a machine gun. They grabbed their guns simultaneously, taking cover behind a small couch next to the door. Before either of them had a chance to shoot, the gunfire suddenly ceased and the sound of a body hitting the floor could be heard in its place. Jack frowned and stood back up swiftly with November, pointing the pistol now at Randy, who stared at them with a desolate look. Her clothes were bloody and her green orbs filled with tears.

He runs in her direction and takes the girl in his arms, whispering, “what happened?”

Johnson sobs and hides herself into his chest, clinging to him for dear life. “He said he was room service… I just opened the door and…” She gulps, crying copiously.

Jack looks at Mike approaching them, still holding her firmly. “It’s okay. You’re okay now.”

The security guards supposed to protect them were nowhere to be seen, and Ryan made the connection quickly; they must have been paid off, just like the ones in Prague. He swore quietly, rocking Randy’s body to try and calm her down. She was shaking like a leaf, but appeared not to be hurt. The crushing weight of guilt hit him once more as he shut his eyes tightly. He shouldn’t have left her alone again. Brushing her cheeks, he cupped her face and wiped off her tears, causing her to smile. She squeezed his hands, as if to confirm she was really okay, and his heart skipped a beat. But as soon as their foreheads touched, the moment was interrupted by November.

“I thought you were a rookie.” Mike hums in confusion, staring at the dead body in front of them while checking his vitals. The guy had a broken neck and arm. He adds, his brows furrowed in her direction, “where did a rookie learn how to kill a guy with one move like that?”

Randy freezes in Jack’s arms and he feels it instantly. He studies the cadaver for a second before turning to stare back at her. He looks lost at first, but the mere prospect of all his suspicions being true causes him to take a step back. He inquires, demanding an explanation, “Johnson?”

She stands there paralyzed, and eventually raises her hands slowly, as a sign of surrender. Ryan points his gun at her again in the blink of an eye and her breath hitches. “Jack, please…”

“Who are you?” Mike chimes in, as his friend’s too shaken up to say anything. His gaze is hard and menacing, nothing like the lighthearted gleam of this morning.

Johnson closes her eyes, shaking her head. “Jack…”

“Who the fuck are you?!” Jack snaps, pressing the barrel of the pistol to her forehead, his hazel orbs now glistening with tears.

Johnson’s desperate face turned into a cold one all of a sudden and she disarmed him easily, pointing Ryan’s glock right back at him. He looked at the girl shocked and hurt, but lifted his arms up in reflex. They stayed in that position until Randy sighed when Mike aimed his own weapon at her. She dropped the firearm and unloaded it masterfully, throwing the rounds on the ground whilst glaring at Jack.

“I’m not your enemy.” She spits, her voice strained with anger. With that, Johnson storms off.

November still tries to go after her and Ryan steps in front of him, holding his shoulders. “Let her go. We got a job to do.”

Mike watches as she gets into the elevator down the hallway and snorts, “well, you did say she was too much.” 

♡♡♡

Jack walked into the event with grace, making the bar his first stop. Mike kept humming a song in his earpiece, but it didn’t bother him as it should, since his mind was elsewhere; lost in blonde locks and lying green eyes. He had no idea where Randy had gone to, and aside from not wanting to think about it now, his bitter side also wouldn’t allow him to care as he did before. She wasn’t some helpless chick doing a brave thing for her principles, after all, like he initially thought. Johnson had her own interests and her own set of skills—which he obviously didn’t know anything about—to achieve them. She’d be fine without him.

“Here he comes”, Ryan mumbles as Jones appears in the VIP section upstairs, surrounded by security and other people he assumed were his associates. He drinks his glass of whisky in one go and keeps his eyes on his target from afar, inspecting the perimeter stealthily. “Please, tell me Jim’s there. We’ll be needing the cavalry soon.”

Instead of Mike’s reply, a familiar voice he hadn’t heard in a few days reaches his ear and Jack tenses up. “Where’s Johnson?” It’s Greer’s first question. No greeting, no nothing. He sighs, trying to think of an excuse not to talk about this now, but his boss is insistent. “You might wanna tell me if you want your cavalry right away.”

“She’s gone”, Ryan growls, not sounding as casual as he would’ve liked to. He strolls towards a group of women and smiles charmingly at them, blending in. They quickly make a gesture for him to come closer and he obliges, muttering on his way, “she left yesterday.”

There is a pause, then Greer mouths, “what happened?” 

“She’s NSA”, he says amidst another deep sigh, forcing a grin when one of the girls pulls him to dance.

Jim didn’t respond and Jack went along with the brunette, always maintaining Jones in his rearview. He wasn’t aware if Greer was too surprised to say something or just didn’t care—seeing as he had been the first one to tell him Randy was only as important as the information she held, anyway. As long as she kept feeding them her intel, whatever happened to her afterwards was irrelevant to the agency. As far as anyone knew, an employee from Logistics should’ve never been on the field with them in the first place. And even in the face of Johnson secretly working for another organ entirely, which was the case, whilst representing a conflict of interests, Ryan reckoned she had been useful enough. At the end of the day, that’s all that mattered. Maybe she’d try to stop him from getting Jones just to put the credit on the National Security Agency’s office, but they would still get Jones. She’d serve her purpose, either way.

As soon as Randy left the hotel, Jack dialled up a nerdy kid in Langley, Josh, who happened to be a self-proclaimed fan of his and asked for a small favour. All the facts he had about Johnson was the Californian accent—unless she was that good at her job, going as far as creating such a round persona for her cover—and a nearly faded tattoo she had on her lower abdomen: 345-27-720. Ryan saw it for the first time when treating her wound, but thought nothing of it. Everything about her appeared so innocent, it went unnoticed. Now, remembering the way she aimed his own weapon at him without hesitation, he felt a bit proud of his photographic memory. 

It was a long shot, still he tried. And the results of the background check didn’t disappoint as they came just minutes before he had to leave for the party. According to California’s military records, the social security number belonged to a Miranda J. Brooks; white, American born, 26 years old, Second Lieutenant with a bachelor’s degree in Strategic Intelligence. The only catch was: Brooks was officially dead for over six years now. The death certificate only mentioned she was killed in combat somewhere in Afghanistan. She had no close family except her grandmother, Mary Brooks, who lived alone in Arizona. And the only thing he could register listening to Josh vomit all of that on the phone was how well she pretended to be such a clueless, defenceless girl while having this background. It only made his admiration for her stronger. And Jack hated it.

He somehow learned about that NSA program a few years back, but didn’t dig deeper on the matter. It wasn’t in their policy to have field agents capacitated in combat—which had been the reason why people in there butt heads with CIA operatives in the past, many a time. So, they allegedly started recruiting deserters and otherwise discharged soldiers to power their own task force, an effort not to be so dependent on the FBI or the State Department anymore. And while Ryan wasn’t sure if it was even a legal practice, he wasn’t a lawyer, therefore that part didn’t concern him. What he couldn’t figure out was why Brooks would fake her own death for this, or have her death faked by the agency itself. Besides, there was no record of a discharge anywhere. It didn’t add up and as soon as Jones was out of the picture, Jack would go looking for answers.

“Wanna go upstairs?” The woman dancing with him grins drunkenly, grabbing back his attention. 

Ryan wrinkles his nose involuntarily when the smell of alcohol hits his face and pulls away politely, faking an apologetic expression. “I’m taken, sorry.”

The woman huffed and pushed him, stumbling back to her friends. Jack watched in silence and frowned as his eyes caught a glimpse of Jones disappearing through a hallway with his men. He warned Mike of his position and followed them suit, the adrenaline already pumping into his veins when he came up the set of stairs and stepped into a quieter area. Ryan took out his gun and pointed it to the ground, sneaking after the terrorist from a safe distance. Hiding behind a wall, he checked his rounds and looked ahead, running back the strategy in his mind.

“Nice suit”, a smooth tone startles him and he holds the pistol at the direction of the sound, gulping faintly when his gaze meets Randy’s—or rather, Miranda’s. 

“What are you doing here?” He lowers his weapon, dragging her behind the wall with him. She’s wearing her usual clothes, and he almost wants to scold her for not even trying to act the part now. When she only smirks in response, Jack tightens his grip around her arm. “Stop playing games, Brooks. I already know everything.”

“You’re so predictable”, she chuckles and harshly shrugs him off, albeit her beam stays. Randy looks up, pretending to be in thought, “although, I didn’t think you would let me go so easily. I thought you’d fight for us, Jackie.” She says dramatically, then laughs.

Ryan’s scowl grows deeper, and he snarls, “Look, I don’t know what your angle is, but if you fuck this up, I’m coming after you next. I don’t care who you work for.” He holds her wrist forcefully and she can’t contain her own glower, trying to shake him off again, this time unsuccessfully. “I’ve had enough of your bullshit.”

“Have you, now?” Johnson hisses and lifts her chin defiantly, his hot breath reaching her cheeks as his nostrils expand in pure rage. “If you were being honest, you’d have reported me to your superiors last night. You didn’t.”

“I have more important things to do”, he grits his teeth when she raises a brow, clearly not believing a word he says. “Now tell me what you’re doing here. I’m not gonna ask again.”

“I told you, I’m not your enemy”, Randy takes a deep breath, her features finally softening. Jack’s grip is looser now, but he keeps glaring. She sighs and tilts her head, cooing, “I know you’re mad at me for lying to you, Jack, but this is my job. You of all people should understand.”

The worst part was he did. Jack saw her and felt like staring into a goddamn mirror every time. He truly, genuinely saw her—no matter who the fuck she even was at that moment—and his body acted on its own as he pulled her by the collar of her shirt and devoured her mouth mercilessly. Ryan hadn’t a clue who he was kissing right now, the rebellious rookie or the dead soldier; all he knew was those were the smoothest lips he ever tasted, and he wasn’t letting go just yet. His tongue made its way between her teeth and he heard a gasp before Johnson pushed him against the wall and pressed herself on him, unashamed of who could see them. 

“Jack, focus.”

Jack ignored Mike as his back hit the cold concrete with a quiet thud. His deep groan seemed to only fuel Randy’s desire and she licked his bottom lip, now guiding the kiss. He panted when her skilful hands dropped to his pants and in a sudden glimpse of clarity, Ryan grabbed her wrists to stop her, but with no brute force this time. She pulled away from the kiss to give him a playful look, her chin completely red with lipstick as she tried to catch her breath, and he wiped his own face unconsciously. They both stared at each other for two seconds before bursting out laughing. He placed his free palm on her hip, bringing her body flush to his again. 

“Jack?”

November’s voice sounds like white noise as Johnson hums smugly, “okay, big man.” Jack’s flustered features cause her to giggle and she opens her mouth to speak again, then shuts it at once when a few men carrying rifles appear in her vision, observing them from afar. 

Ryan’s eyes follow hers and he tucks Randy behind him instinctively, turning off the safety on his glock. “If you have a gun on you, now’s the time to use it.”

“You don’t really think we can take them? We’re outnumbered, greatly”, she scoffs, doing her best to hide his weapon from the bodyguards’ view with her body. She presses herself against Jack and he offers her a puzzled look when her hands carefully put his pistol back into his pants. Johnson brushes her lips on his and he gladly accepts the caress, shivering from head to toe. She whispers, biting his bottom lip, “act drunk.”

“Pfft”, Jack wants to protest that poor excuse of a plan, but it’s too late as the men are now only a few feet away, watching not so subtly. He sighs and palms her butt without warning, getting into character, and fakes a loose smile. “How’s that?”

“Perfect”, she bends towards his touch, kissing him sloppily. Jack squeezes her ass cheek softly in reflex and a moan escapes her. “Jesus…”

“Jack, what the fuck are you doing?!” 

Mike screaming in his piece brings him back to reality and he stares at the ceiling before eyeing her. “I don’t wanna spoil the mood”, Ryan gulps, still rubbing her waist slowly as he tries to get a hold of himself. He clears his throat, “but what’s the endgame here? Take out the voyeurs?”

Randy chuckles and holds his hand, taking him towards the empty hallway again, away from the party. Before they leave, she senses the men are following them. While they stumble side by side surrounded by red painted walls, she mumbles, “there’s a door to your right over there. This is where Jones makes his deals and he’s trying to close one right now with the Russians.”

“I thought you said he gave up on it”, Ryan trails off, maintaining her close to him by wrapping an arm around her waist. 

“Because that’s what I heard, he changed his mind today”, she slows the pace, pushing him to the wall once again with a grin. “I bugged his office while you were away with Mike yesterday, forgot to tell ya.”

“How in the world…”

“And they almost caught me, that was the mess you found”, Randy continues and Jack’s mouth remains agape. She shrugs, pecking him casually, “you play a good drunk, by the way.”

“Were you gonna tell me any of this if we hadn’t figured it out on our own?”, his tone sounds defeated, almost like he’s still hurt. But should he be, really? She said it earlier; Ryan of all people couldn’t judge her for lying. “Would you trust me?”

“Well, I’m telling you now”, loosening up his tie, she puts it around her neck clumsily. “What do you think?”

He smiles. “I think I hate your games, but sometimes they’re fun”, he grabs her by the hair and brings her into another quick kiss.

A loud sound, similar to an explosion, came out of the main room and Randy gasped in surprise, dragging Jack away from all the rubble and the dust. She coughed while running through the wreckage with him, and Jack took it upon himself to protect her face, covering it with his hand. He tried calling for Mike, but he couldn’t hear the answer amidst all the screaming and chaos going on around them. Soon the first shots were fired and not knowing whether it was the police or the terrorists, he took the lead and pulled out his gun as he knocked down the door to Jones’ office, supposedly. They entered the room and were met with the man glowering, his bodyguards ready to open fire. 

Ryan stays alert, aiming his pistol at him and muttering, “Mike, where the hell’s the cavalry?”

Michael snorts, seeming out of breath. “I think your NSA friend can answer that better than me.” 

Jack frowns, shooting a look at Johnson. She appears calm, calmer than she should be in a situation like this. However, just as he’s going to question her about Mike’s affirmation, Randy takes out her gun at last, but doesn’t aim it at anyone. He furrows his brows, “care to fill me in here?” 

“It’s very nice to meet you, Dr. Ryan”, Jones chimes in with a heavy accent, eyeing Randy for a moment, solemnly. “And nice to see you again, miss Johnson.”

“You know each other?” Jack blinks, holding his weapon tightly, his knuckles becoming white. He turns off his safety, now raising his voice, “someone better tell me what’s going on here or I’ll shoot, I swear to God.” 

Jones made mention of speaking up again and a door behind him opened to reveal a tall blonde with two other men surrounding him. Randy knew that was her chance and took the shot without so much as a second thought, hitting the stranger on the forehead. Everyone stood shocked, except Jones. The terrorist’s guys yelled at Johnson to toss her firearm and with one hand gesture coming from him, they went silent. She eventually lowered her pistol and sighed, studying the pool of blood around Viktor’s bald head before she took a look at Jack, who seemed as confused as he had been the day prior. 

Johnson approaches Jones and nods, her expression serious. “Thank you. You’re free to go now.” 

Jack widens his eyes and quickly steps between them, still pointing his weapon at him. “What the hell are you doing, Randy?!”

“I’m sorry, Jack. That was the deal.” The girl hugs her own body and the Czech police finally appear, screaming at everyone to lower their guns. “I’m sorry”, Randy glances at him one last time with a hurt look before she leaves and Jones and his men are cuffed and taken away.

“Jack, are you okay?”

Staring at the dead body still on the ground, Ryan places his hands on his hips, in a pathetic attempt to process what just happened. He stands there for a few seconds, then turns around to step out of the building. “Please tell me she wasn’t in on it, Mike.” He begs in a murmur, measuring up the destruction caused by the explosion earlier. “And where’s Greer, too.”

“I’m right here, Jack.” Jim sighs on the other end. “Don’t worry, Johnson’s not compromised. She was just following her orders.”

“Which were?” He kicks off some dust, finding his tie under a broken block of concrete in the hallway. It must have fallen off Randy as they ran. 

“Catching Viktor Vasiliev.” Jack walks among the damage with a sour face, closing his eyes when he finds the woman he danced with earlier that night. She’s dead. Greer adds, “he deals in chemical weapons and was the one behind the Prague bombings all along. Jones was her informant.”

“Catching?” Ryan deadpans. “She killed him, Greer.”

“Those were her orders…”

“You knew about all this.” Ryan reckons, with a more consternated tone as he cleans up the dust off his tie and gets out of the main room—or what’s left of it—, trying not to think of the medics tending to the dead bodies as he passes. “You knew it and you didn’t tell me.”

Jim grunts, “I only found out when I arrived here and the NSA director gave me a call explaining everything. You already had your plan, Jack, and I know you well enough to say with confidence that you would have gone with it anyway. No matter what I said.” 

He scoffs, shaking his head at Greer’s words even though he can’t be seen. Reaching the sidewalk, Jack sees Randy is talking to a police officer from a distance. She’s laughing at something he’s saying while Ryan purses his lips, unable to take his eyes off her figure. “Now what?”

“Now we’re going back to Langley. Our job here’s done, we helped as we could with manpower, but the intel was solely NSA’s. It’s their case now.”

“It has always been.” There’s bitterness in his words, and his scowl is inevitable when he remembers everything. All the lies. “What about Jones?”

“He’s coming with us. He made a deal.”

Jack sighs, looking down at his shoes. “And Johnson?”

Jim pauses. Ryan watches as Randy disappears in a police car without looking back, and he can’t ignore the lump in his throat when the answer comes in his ear, “Johnson who?”

♡♡♡

Randy’s always been in love with Arizona. There was just something about the quietness of the desert, and the way the roads stretched endlessly when driving back home. She hadn’t seen her grandmother in such a long time. A real nice scolding would be the first thing waiting for her as soon as Johnson opened the door to her granny’s trailer, she just knew it; yet it only added to her anxiousness to finally seeing the iconic “welcome to Phoenix” sign on the side of the road. 

Singing a tune along with the radio, she thought back to what she left behind in Europe a week ago. Deciding to quit had been a big step for her, but she was never happier to make a decision. She’s always hated jetlag, anyway. And whenever Johnson saw Jack again, if ever, she would just have to thank him for indirectly leading her to discover this. Turns out the adrenaline wasn’t doing it for her anymore. And albeit it was all she had known until that point in her life, maybe it’s time for a change. Prague taught her as much. Even through the moments of tension, somehow connecting to some ex-Marine’s need for the hustle of going after the bad guys made her notice that deep inside, she was tired of it herself. That didn’t mean switching to “normal”—hell no. 

Quieter, mayhaps. 

A deep sigh escaped her lips and she shook her head at no one in particular, rolling down her windows and smiling as the wind hit her face. Reciting the lyrics to the song a bit louder now, she turned the volume all the way up and stepped on the pedal, patting her door from the outside to follow the beat. Love’s never worked out for her even as Miranda Brooks back in the day. So there was no surprise on her part when the brief romantic getaway with Jack Ryan had a tragic ending—and by tragic, she meant not being physically able to say goodbye to him, face to face. “I hope you’ll understand someday”, was the email Randy sent, and off she went to the States, in a flight separate from his. 

With Jones now in custody—his deal was merely to reduce his sentence, since he did actively help plan other bombings before deciding to do the right thing after Prague—, everything should be fine. Except nothing felt like it, not to Randy. Being jobless and alone was a new thing, so she reckoned it was just a matter of adjusting. Taking a peek at herself in the rearview mirror, the girl thought of changing her hair. The last time she’d been a brunette was prior to enlisting. Another deep sigh left her throat as she rolled the window back up and turned off the radio. 

Who was she kidding? 

No amount of pretending not to care would save her from feeling like the worst person in the world. The whole thing with Ryan was just too fucking much, funnily enough, even for Johnson. Which was beyond her in itself, because lying to people came easy for her, it had to, since it was what she did for a living. But reminiscing about the disappointment in his eyes when she killed Viktor in front of him made her stomach turn every time. How did she come to consider his opinion of her that much? Randy had no clue. Still, she stubbornly persisted in the idea that everything happened as it should have. She accomplished her mission and Jack accomplished his, too. She was well and breathing, after all. He did his job. And without being deceitful, unlike her. 

“You bitch!” Granny exclaims as soon as she spots her granddaughter’s car on the road. She’s in front of her house, wiping her hands with a kitchen cloth as she comes down the little steps before Randy even pulls up.

Laughing out loud, Johnson gets out and runs toward her, squeezing the old woman in her arms. “Granny! Oh, God. How I missed you. You look so beautiful.”

“Liar!” She chuckles, but her eyes are filled with tears. Staring at the rusty pick-up truck behind them, Mary shakes her head in disapproval. “I can’t believe you’re still driving that piece of shit, Miranda. That’s why you never visit your grandmother anymore! You’re probably afraid it’s gonna explode on the way.”

“Shut up, she’s family”, Johnson giggles and kisses her white hair, still holding her close. The scent of home made her heart flutter in her chest. She teases, “c’mon, I’m hungry. You better have made me pancakes!”

“Oh, he did!” Mary hums happily, opening a grin from ear to ear, and Randy raises a brow in inquiry. She shrugs, walking to the trailer along Brooks. “Your friend. He said you were gonna meet him here.”

“My friend?” The girl frowns and touches the gun under her jacket automatically, but as soon as she takes it out, her alert eyes spot the so-called friend sitting on the little couch, sipping a coffee, and stops in her tracks. “Jack?” Johnson breathes out, astonished.

With a shaven face and a sweet smile, Ryan blinked slowly at her. Her knees suddenly went weak and she took a step back, trying to take in his presence. It hadn’t been so long since she last saw him, yet it felt like an eternity. He wore a baby blue shirt and some jeans, and her mind took note of how casual he looked out of his work persona. Her mouth stayed agape as she searched for the words to speak. They all ran out on her. 

“You don’t look happy to see me”, Jack finally murmurs in amusement, causing Mary to exchange a knowing look with him as he stands up, putting his hands in his front pockets. “How are you, Randy?” 

“I’m…” She trails off, even more baffled by his soft and amicable tone now. She really thought he hated her guts. “Jack, I…”

“She’s better now, dear, that’s for sure”, granny chimes in before she can finish, doing a thumbs up. 

Randy’s cheeks go red and she widens her eyes. “Granny!”

“What? I’m old, but I notice these things, Miranda. You like the boy.” Mary smiles and now Jack’s the one blushing and laughing awkwardly. “And he likes you too, for that matter.” After giving Johnson another one of her teasing looks, she points outside and pats Ryan’s shoulder softly. “I’m gonna leave you two alone now. You go talk and make up, otherwise there’s no pancakes for nobody.”

Randy can’t hold back another laughter as her granny steps out of the trailer with the tray full of their breakfast. She’s really not kidding. Glancing at Jack again, he’s still slightly flustered, crossing his arms while raising a brow. Johnson squints, “what?”

“An email? Really?” He asks, his expression wry as he sits back down, resting his elbows on his knees. It’s almost comical how big he looks in that position, especially seated on her grandmother’s small couch. “A text would’ve been warmer.”

“I didn’t wanna hurt you again, Jackie”, even though she tries to make light of it, there’s a sincerity to her words that’s hard not to notice. Taking a seat beside him, Johnson leans back and sighs. “You know, I quit the agency.”

He figured as much, especially because Greer seemed a little sad when questioned about Randy while they had dinner last night. Ryan smirks, not wanting to miss the opportunity, “which one?”

Johnson snickers and nods, comprehensive of his sassiness. “Both, actually. I’m a civilian now.” Looking down at her boots, she bites her lips in thought. 

His orbs fall to her lap, his voice going lower, “why?”

“I miss my granny”, Randy smiles and shrugs, tilting her head. He hums along and she comes a little closer, resting her chin on his shoulder. Jack sniggers, his hand flying to her knee in response. “How about you, why did you come here?”

Jack paused and his breath hitched. He should’ve seen the question coming, but somehow didn’t prepare for it. Why did he come, really? It was lost on him, if he was being honest. There were a lot of points left unexplained about her that still bugged him; like the illegal task force run by NSA, or even why Johnson was pronounced dead and given another identity when she hadn’t even been discharged. What did she do while working undercover for two national organs at the same time, exactly? What were her real motives, her ideals, her drives? Ryan knew this was his chance, perhaps the only one, to clear things up with Randy. However, with green orbs watching him expectantly, his common sense turned into goo. 

“To say goodbye, properly.” Jack’s aware he sounds a lot huskier than necessary, closing his eyes when her face comes nearer. He stammers, gazing at her intensely, “you think I’m allowed that much?” 

She clicks her tongue in jest, giving a head shake. “Jim’s not gonna like it.” 

“Greer gave me the rundown on Randy Johnson.” The corner of his lip curls up as Jack goes in for a tender kiss. He whispers, pulling her into his arms, “he never said anything about Miranda Brooks.”

Randy’s grin got bigger as she let herself be held by him. Much was unsaid between them, but in her experience, there wasn’t a thing in this world that couldn’t get sorted out through a nice chat and some pancakes in sunny Arizona. Besides, who was to say the change she needed in her life wouldn’t be brought by Jack Ryan in his shining armour?

[the1975attheirverybest]

You're right about youth being the catalyst for change but question is whether that change is positive or negative

Constructive criticism is important because things only seem to be getting worse rather than getting better .the idea was to leave the world in a slightly better position for the next generation than how we inherited it

Gabor mate talks about how we live in a toxic society that breeds mental health issues.and i think gen z is partly to blame for that.They are technologically savvy but also technologically dependent. These apps were meant to foster better relationships but instead we are getting higher levels of anxiety disconnection and depression than before

Their idea of change is to ban books they disagree with, cancel people they dislike and throw paint at priceless paintings to protest against climate change

I totally agree with you that being technologically dependent is not as positive as we like to think it is, sometimes. But I don’t know if the blame is squarely on the shoulders of gen z for that. I think it would be fair to say that none of us, regardless of generation, ever expected technology to be so totally present in our lives. Like, when the internet was first invented, the idea of something like Instagram would’ve blown our fuckin marbles. Hahaha.

But that’s true of any kind of “new technology” not just social media. It’s the exact same problem we had with atomic weapons. We were just so excited by the possibility that such a thing could potentially be invented that we rushed to make it happen and didn’t think about the ethical, psychological, social, or environmental effects. Then we ended the lives of a bunch of innocent people and went “well maybe that was a shit idea” a bit too late. Technological advancements rarely ever come with a humanistic handbook that teaches us how to handle them properly. Sadly, we only ever discover the negative when it’s too late. That’s what happened with social media. We kept saying to ourselves “omg imagine being able to connect with friends, family members, and even strangers, on the other side of the globe! How exciting!” A few decades later: Twitter. I think we can all agree Twitter is a miserable black hole, lmao.

I think Gen z holds the burden because they’re the generation who’s lived enough on this stuff to start showing it’s more long term effects.

Also, I feel like it’s not entirely their fault. The people who are banning books and making these shit decisions are (say it with me everyone) old, rich, straight white dudes. Who, if more of gen z could/ would vote, wouldn’t be in charge anymore. Like, the Supreme Court making the decision about abortions on behalf of all women in the US? A bunch of old white dudes (and Clarance Thomas :( shame on him) the persistent willful ignorance about climate crises? Old straight white dudes? Gun lobbyists blocking any change to fun safety laws? Yup, old straight white dudes.

Who’s trying to do something about it? Greta Thunberg, the March For Our Lives kids, etc. the kids :-)

That said, I do think that sometimes gen z wayyy overdoes it with some stuff. Like “woke culture” and “canceling” people. Ends with society treating Harvey Winestein with the same level of anger they treat Matty Healy, lmao. Like, no, learn to have some critical distance. There’s a difference between an off-color joke and a fuckin sexual assault. That’s why I say some youth culture tends to be an “overcorrection” or reaction to what came before it. They saw that older generations never spoke up, so their solution to be speaking up. Constantly. About everything. With the same level of investment. Whether or not they qualify as experts. Etc. and, yeah, these are the things that gen z does need to reflect on and decide where to go with. But, the rest of it….I’m afraid my generation, and the ones before it, are sort of guilty for putting those kids between a rock and a hard place. They were born into these shitty circumstances and didn’t even stand a chance, lol.

My examples happen to be US-based cuz that’s just where I live, but it seems like Brexit, French nationalism, etc have parallel trajectories in Europe as well. I’m just using things I see everyday as an example.

[pinerimages]

Robotek cartoons 80

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[tearlessrain]

The Anatomy of Lumpy Kiba

(and how to identify him in the wild)

disclaimer: this is not a wolf anatomy tutorial. it’s a tutorial on how to recognize the features of one specific wolf silhouette so you can get pretentiously annoyed about it. don’t take my advice about things.

also, don’t harass artists over this shit if you happen to see it. I shouldn’t have to say that but the internet’s favorite pastime now is spontaneously deciding to make some random civilian’s life miserable for a minor misstep and it’s a fucked up thing to do. yes plagiarism is bad but frankly while the original clipart was obviously traced, that ship sailed over a decade ago and I don’t blame everyone for using this wolf silhouette because you have to go out of your way to avoid it at this point if you’re searching for free clipart. this is meant to be funny and lighthearted.

now, with that out of the way.

nobody asked for this but I need something to occupy my brain and the notes aren’t really slowing down on that post (this is what I’m referencing btw) and I’ve seen a few people questioning my claims that it’s all the same wolf silhouette and that the original is a still from the anime Wolf’s Rain. I also really enjoy when people find this bastard in weird places and want to make it easier. so I’m doing that. in a style flagrantly stolen from mcmansionhell, which I think is fitting given the subject matter of shameless plagiarism. to start, here’s one of the cleanest/most exemplary instances I could find, broken down. There’s some variation in rotation, nose shape, and scruff distribution, but it all basically averages out to this:

further analysis, examples, and deranged ranting under the cut!

not all of these details will be present in every instance of Lumpy Kiba (especially in smaller examples or jewelry where a lot of detail is lost), but more than 2-3 together with the same pose and you’ve got a set of weirdly specific anatomical issues that are unlikely to all occur naturally together unless someone is referencing an already badly-rendered wolf instead of a photo. The most consistent and noticeable feature of Lumpy Kiba is those hind legs, with their dangerously pointy hocks and very long and concave metatarsals, but the tail position, nose shape, and pronounced shoulder bump are also strong indicators.

 for reference, here’s a photo of a real wolf in a similar pose. note the very rounded hocks and overall lack of lumps.

when you find a wolf silhouette clipart that ISN’T Lumpy Kiba, it won’t necessarily have perfect anatomy but it will have a lot more in common with the photo, like this dude

Wolves That Are Lumpy, But Not Kiba

stylizing is a thing though, and on rare occasions you WILL find a howling wolf silhouette that resembles neither a real wolf nor Lumpy Kiba. it was surprisingly hard to find ones that weren’t just “Lumpy Kiba but severely warped/altered” (I’ll get to those in a minute) but these were the two clearest examples I could find that are definitely not Lumpy Kiba or derived from him:

there are of course more differences than what I’ve pointed out, but those were the key points I used to pick them out from the ‘howling wolf silhouette’ image search.

Weird/Hard To Identify Examples

in my digging around for example images for this post, I came across not only a staggering amount of Lumpy Kiba at every turn, but some that I initially thought were doing their own thing that, on further examination, were clearly referenced from Lumpy Kiba with some “you can copy my homework, but change it a little so the teacher doesn’t notice” slapped on. unfortunately the defining characteristics of Lumpy Kiba are so glaring and distinctive that if you use him as your only reference, it’s GOING to be noticeable. this, by the way, is why if you’re learning anatomy you NEED to reference photos (and real life if you can) instead of other peoples’ drawings. everyone stylizes, everyone has strengths and weaknesses, and weird things happen when you just copy another artist instead of actually learning what an animal looks like.

(this, incidentally, is the whole problem with Lumpy Kiba in the first place, but I’ll get to that)

here’s two that most likely weren’t traced, but the artist definitely referenced Lumpy Kiba exclusively

also two particularly weird examples that barely qualify as Lumpy Kiba, but which both were undeniably shaped by his influence. the first one being this unholy frankenwolf that uses components from Lumpy Kiba but also apparently a few other wolf silhouettes:

and if you thought we were done with that youtuber “tribal wolf tattoo” guy, I found someone who made a truly next-level copy of his slightly distorted trace of a moderately shitty vector of an anime screenshot. even after that game of visual telephone, the Lumpy Kiba telltale signs are still present. if anything, they’re in their purest form here, because not one single person in this chain ever looked at a photo of an actual wolf.

Click here for Part 2: Origins.

[magicpumpkin3]

hey you i see your req are open ? if you have time , can you write about reader ( female or gender natural ) who always act cold and strong in front of other but one day the dorm leader see her crying in the sleep . they like having a nightmares about the dorm leader leaving them and sleep talk about begging them to stay ?

i am sorry if this is too long .

Note: I went through seven stages of grief while writing this. And the crazy part, I have no idea why! (Prob BC of the art/writing block).

Note№2: I sincerely apologize for the delay. But at last, most of my finals are over and I hope my will to live and create will return (and NOT at 3 AM!)

Riddle Rosehearts

He honestly didn't know you fell asleep. You were staying in his room, listening to him, rambling about his dorm members not understanding the importance of rules.

He stopped rambling as soon as you let out a small sob. Slowly turning his head towards you, to make sure he didn't mishear it, Riddle looks at you. Another sob leaves you followed shortly by a hitched inhale. He's momentarily at your side. Riddle isn't quite sure what to do. He knows for sure, he needs to wake you up. While he attempts to do so, you start crying even more, particular shacking from the amount of tears.

Riddle stills when he hears you call out for him. Never have he ever imagined you, of all people calling for him. It's unusual for you to show such deep emotions to anyone so poor thing is absolutely lost at what to do again. He had similar nightmares too (not to the point of years though), so he understands your fear.

He attempts to comfort you in your sleep, since he could wake you up. Riddle hugs you and whispers reassuring things and lot's of "I'll never leave you"s. He'll never mention it to anyone but he will talk about this with you for sure.

Leona Kingscholar

It was one of the many sleepless nights for Leona. He usually listened to your heart to fall asleep faster, feeling safe and loved. Laying on top of you, using you as a pillow, it always helped.

Leona is no stranger to nightmares, quiet the opposite actually. But never did he imagen that you will have one. In front of him. There isn't a lot of people who would understand you, lucky for you, Leona is one of a few, who understand. He trys to wake you up at first, causing you to cry even more. He's panicking, he has no idea what to do. You're always so cold, calm and quiet one of the many reasons why he likes to sleep near you.

Once Leona hears your cry for him, beginning him, to stay. He stills, not believing his ears. He had similar nightmares about you, leaving him. You were always there to comfort him when those night terrors came, so he does the same for you.

He cuddles you, pat's your head, running his fingers through your hair and says probably the sweetest things you'll ever hear from him. Leona won't mention it to anyone and won't talk with you about it. He will cuddle you more and say encouraging stuff to you in private though.

Azul Ashengrotto

He was in his office, counting contracts, before heading towards his room. He couldn't leave his angelfish waiting! You and Azul made an agreement that whenever he's being late to your 'privet' date, you'd wait for him in his room.

Standing right outside the room, Azul heard faint crying. Momentarily, he enters room, normally he knocks, even though it's his room, privacy is privacy but in this situation, he had to.

Seeing you crying in your sleep, made his personal killbill siren go insane! Usually it was the other way around, you comforting him after another bad dream. So Azul did what you usually did to him, try to wake you up and comfort you.

You let out another cry but with his name. Poor Azul was afraid you were having nightmare about him, hurting you. He was about to push away, when you weekly grabbed onto his arm and pleaded to stay with you, still asleep.

Azul stayed by your side whole night, not daring to fall asleep. Not like he could. Whispering words of love and reassurance, cuddling you, with his whole being, Azul silently cried with you, feeling your pain, like no one else. He won't say a word to anyone but he will talk about your fears and insecurities.

Kalim Al-Asim

He just returned from one of his night flys. Usually he just flys on his carpet whenever he couldn't sleep, thais was one of those nights. As soon as you entered Kalim's room and sat down on his bed, you fell asleep, due to up coming exams. Sunshine boy truly tried to fall asleep with you but he couldn't.

So imagen his suprise, when he heard your crys. You! The ice majesty you! You were like that comical 'polar opposites' couple. If anything, it was most likely him being the crying one then you!

Poor Kalim was panicking half of the time! He was about to call Jamil for help (since vice dorm leader always helped him to calm down in saddest moments) but then he heard your crys for him. You, the always cool and calm, you were calling for him???

Kalim wouldn't even try to wake you up in fear of scaring you even more, instead he'd attempt to comfort you through your sleep. Hugging, cuddling you, pressing gentle kisses here and there. He'd try to stay awake the whole night but unfortunately he falls asleep embracing you. In the morning he's very tempted to ask others for advice but Kalim understands, that it's too personal. He'll be a bit awkward about it (he doesn't know how to approach you when it comes to emotions) but he will talk with you about your nightmares.

Vil Schoenheit

Normally he was the one to fall asleep first but oh well. You did look horribly tired this whole day. Schoenheit was in a good mood, so he decided to have a beauty sleep with you (aka go to sleep at 9 pm).

He was about to fell asleep but was shacken back to the reality with your sobs. At first, he thought it was just his sleepy mind and imagination but when you started to toss around the bed and cry even more aggressively. Vil would usually just knocked some sense into you, to not ruin his beauty sleep but it's not the case.

He isn't the best guy if you need comfort. Especially if he's used to you being cold and calm on the outside (like him). So Vil is really confused on what to do. Logically he'd try to wake you up first and if that fails, he'd still be lost for a good fee seconds. Don't be mad at him, please, he trys his best. Vil would try to hug you and keep you in place, so you wouldn't accidentally hurt yourself, try to calm you, by saying stuff like 'it's okay', 'let it out' and 'sh…I'm here for you'.

When he first heard you cry for him, Vil like Azul thought, he was the cause of your tears. He was about to start to think some really depressing things but then you begged for him to stay. It's like something snapped in him. Vil never thought that you'd be that attached to him. He'd be more 'aggresive' in his calming attempts. More 'I love you's and 'I won't ever leave you's, tightening his embrace and all. He wouldn't talk to anyone about it and he would be hesitant to talk to you about it too. Since he's also an 'ice queen' he tried to think how'd that go through his point of view. But in the end you'd still discussed it.

Idia Shroud

You both were chillaxing in his room. Idia was having one of those long night gaming marathon/sessions and you accidentally fell asleep on his bed. Idia doesn't mind though, he understands that you're probably tired and his bed is comfy!

Before long, he was at max level fighting with the boss and he was about to disintegrate that worthless being- Wait, did he hear it correct? Pushing pause, Idia pushed his headphones a bit. Yep, that was someone crying. Hold on... IT'S JUST YOU AND HIM HERE!!! Remember, I told you about killbill siren in Azul's head? Now THIS is a killbill siren. Idia is panicking his shit out and has no actual idea what to do! His anxiety level has never been so high.

Usually he was the one having nightmares (if you were lucky to catch him asleep) in your couple, so if something you or Ortho were the one to comfort him. Poor Idia, he was on the verge of tears from the panic. He was about to call Ortho for help when he heard your cry for him, his name being chocked out from your trembling body. Hesitant, he would try to wake you up (And miserably failed). Idia will mostly say reassuring words and won't do much physical contact since he's afraid of scaring you even more. He really is worried, don't get me wrong! After that, he would only ask Ortho for the advice (or internet in anon mode). He doesn't want to mess up things even more so he'll be shy asking you about it. You and him will still talk at some point though.

Malleus Draconia

Fae's sleeping schedule is a... wierd thing but it is what it is. Usually Malleus just watches you sleep instead of sleeping himself. So here you were in bed next to him, sleeping peacefully, while Draconia watched you like a hawk.

So when your face started to show the slightest hints of discomfort, he noticed it. And from that moment on, his 'protecting' instincts were acting up. He didn't risk waking you up right away but he git closer to your sleeping form non-theless. He was monitoring everything, starting with what expression does your face makes and ending with your heart beat.

When you let out your first shaky sob, Malleus felt like there's a crack in the floor and it's getting bigger. He had no idea what to do. While he was spacing out and silently panicking, you started to cry even harder. Poor baby, was scared to do anything! He tried to wake you up but you just started crying even harder! Malleus got a heart attack when you cried his name out. Like Azul he thought, he was the reason of your nightmare. The only thought about it made him go to the verge of tears. Malleus was brought back to the reality by you, pleading for him to stay. Mal mal would hug you, whisper promises of being with you forever and try to slowly rock you like a baby to ease your bad dream. He won't mention it to anyone and won't talk with about it. But if it happens again, he'll decently confront you about your nightmares.

[thefanficmonster]

Corpse Infested

Corpse Husband & Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Mentions of dysfunctional family, Family problems, Swearing

Genre: Humor, Comfort, Platonic fluff, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: When your friend disappears for a long time, seemingly having lost interest in what fueled the most passionate fire in their life, you cannot not worry about them. Even if you wanna give them space, you will reach out, you will offer your help. You will tell them they always have you to rely on and talk to.

Requested by Anon. Hi dear! I’m really sorry it’s taken me so long to complete and post your request, but here it finally is! Hope you come across it and if you do I hope you enjoy the read! Love, Vy ❤

For me, it’s never hard to find things to do. I’ve constantly got things on my mind and tasks to tend to, keeping me occupied and my mind focused at all times. I think that comes with living in a home as dysfunctional as this one. I honestly can’t recall a time when my parents got along nor can I think of a time where there was at least one second of peace while the two are both present in the house. It’s always a warzone up there. I’m saying up there because I tend to live out of the basement of their home. I know living in your parents’ basement is considered a peak loser point, or the bottom of the bottom, but you’d have to believe me when I say - I wasn’t always like this. In fact, I only recently came back to this hell-hole and boy do I regret it. I mean, it was a decision forced upon me by circumstances. Trust me, I tried every other option there was. When my dorm was to be closed down and demolished, we were given a notice to start planning our next move about a month early. You can bet I immediately started looking at places but my very tragic and miserable budget didn’t allow such a purchase. No rent was adequate for me and my near-empty wallet so my second option was moving in with my best friend who was also not in the greatest of situations but I thought I’d give that a shot too.

Spoiler alert: it didn’t work out. She lived in a tiny apartment with her boyfriend and his best friend at the time, so four people in one apartment was a nightmare. Still a lesser nightmare than this one but a nightmare nonetheless. Some unwanted and downright traumatizing events chased me out of that place after barely managing to pack my stuff. Therefore, finding myself on the streets again, I had no other option other than the obvious and least liked one: moving back in with my parents.

Making money during my first year of college hasn’t been easy. Working two jobs at once and also streaming video games on the side was what my time was filled with all throughout the first semester but then this damn pandemic started and now ruined everything for me. I had things going for me, I was slowly getting my life together and now it has all fallen apart yet again. The places I worked at closed down due to quarantine and I haven’t been able to steam, not only cause I’d be the victim of my parents’ comments but also cause my terrible home life would be exposed to all my fans and viewers. It’s not like I could cancel out the commotion going on right above my head, it’s a livestream and this house’s walls are cardboard thin meaning all the arguing I hear almost 24/7 will serve as background noise for my streams.

I haven’t reached out to my friends or fans to inform them of this which I feel slightly guilty about but I’m really not looking forward to having to lie to them, just as much as I’m not looking forward to having to tell them the truth so instead I’ve picked silence which is probably either worrying them or driving them insane. Either way, I’ll make my comeback soon.

Well....not very soon by the looks of it...

I have to gather the money, then I have to find a place, then comes the packing, moving out of here, moving into the new place...oh God, there’s so much to it that I don’t even wanna think about. Just that thought that I’ll be inactive for that long makes my stomach turn. Streaming’s where I’ve been channeling all my negative emotions, turning them into something positive and entertaining with the help of my friends.

Speaking of my friends, I should probably put emphasis on how amazing they are. Basically the older siblings I’ve always wished I had. I’m the baby of the group, the eighteen year old freshman in college, powering through life the best they can cause they are constantly getting tripped up by inconvenient occurrences such as this one for example. I tend to have the gang poke fun at me quite frequently - all lighthearted and with good intentions obviously - but they are also the ones to get super defensive if anyone gets the balls to talk shit about me. They’d never allow me to be the victim of any smack talk or online rumors and ‘cancel culture’ or whatever the hell people will come up with to leave others restless and wondering if they did something shady a decade ago. Well, to be fair, I didn’t even know about the concept of social media a decade ago and I’ve never been one to post much but I still have a protection squad in case anyone decides to come after me.

Little do they know the people I need protecting from are the very people that are supposed to protect me - my parents. Luckily, they don’t venture into to basement very often if at all and I have my own exit to the outside world so I don’t have to run into them unless I absolutely have to. The only time I emerge to the surface of the house - aka the ground floor - I do so to leave my share of rent money on the dining table and I usually do it when they aren’t home or when they’re asleep - that happens often with how many bottles they each knock back on the daily.

*sigh*...at least I don’t have to talk to them, right?

Anyhow, remember how I mentioned I always have things to do? Well, right now I’ve tasked myself with rifling through the large boxes containing random stuff I found in one of the basements down here to see if there’s anything I could possibly sell online. For starters, I’d like to hope there aren’t any severed body parts in here because this was one shady-ass basement before I moved in and un-creeped it a bit so I wouldn’t have to become an insomniac due to the paranoia of there being a homeless person down here with me or some paranormal entity. Regardless, old basements tend to be, apart from haunted, also filled with junk no one would find valuable despite it actually being worth something after all. That’s basically what I’m hoping to find at the moment.

As I dig through the contents of the first box, the YouTube playlist I have put on on my phone cuts off causing me to furrow my brows in confusion for a second before my ringtone pierces the silence the lack of music created.

I quickly mute the ringing and take a look at the Caller ID to see a name I never thought would pop up on my screen as an incoming call - Corpse. I, as well as many of our friends, know that he’s not the biggest fan of talking to people on the phone so this is rather surprising. Still, I pick up the call in case it’s not a mistake and an odd chance that it’s somethin urgent cause Lord knows Corpse doesn’t call people willy-nilly. 

Thank God it’s quiet up there at the moment.

“Hello?“ I try my best to cover up the confusion in my voice but I can only assume I didn’t do the best job considering Corpse replies with a slightly awkward chuckle.

“Surprised you, didn’t I?“ He asks, getting my cheeks to redden a bit, “You can’t blame a guy for calling after up and disappearing on him and on the whole internet. Where’ve you been?“

I open my mouth to respond when I hear the sound of glass breaking a shouted curse from upstairs.

Oh for fuck’s sake!

“Um...you know, places?“ I’m aware the answer isn’t only nonsensical but also sounds more like a question, but I can hardly focus on that right now. I’m too buys praying to an entity I don’t fully believe in for the situation above to not escalate.

“Uh, is everything ok over there? Where even are you right now?“ The teasing tone to his voice is all but gone at this point, replaced with deep concern, having obviously heard the commotion that did the exact opposite of what I prayed for - escalated.

“Y-yeah, it’s ok. It’s just another Thursday, you know.“ I attempt a small laugh but it’s blatantly miserable, “I moved back in with my parents when they announced the quarantine so that’s where I’m at now. They’re not the quietest of folks as you can tell so...“

“I FUCKING HATE YOU, YOU PIECE OF SHIT! I HOPE YOU DIE“

Oh crap, here we go.

“...So I can’t really stream a lot...or at all.“ I mutter, cringing with all my might, “But it’s only temporary! I’ll get back in the saddle as soon as I find another place to stay.“ I don’t dare mention how long that’s gonna take me, it’ll be too disappointing and depressing for the both of us. “So yeah...um...thanks for showing concern but there’s really nothing to worry about. I’m ok, everything’s ok, things are just...a bit off the rails, but I’ll fix em no problem. Like I always do!“ I attempt to sound as cheerful as possible with little success due to the overwhelming anger I feel towards those people upstairs and the gut-wrenching nostalgia for the world of streaming I can no longer be a part of because of them. Actually, I put the blame first on the pandemic and second on my parents - if it wasn’t for Covid I’d probably still be in my dorm!

“Hey...um, I think I know an affordable place where you can take up residence. Only if you want to, of course.“ He sounds hesitant but I easily overlook that as excitement bursts throughout my entire being at the sound if an escape being offered to me just like that. Had I known I’d find the solution to my problem in the very people I spent time avoiding because I was afraid of their pity, sympathy and judgement.

“Oh please, it could be a rat and roach infested shoe box and I’d go running to it. How much is rent?“ I ask through a gasp of hurried laughter that’s a result of my inability to contain said excitement. Listen, I’ve been sitting here in Hellsburg for three months now and haven’t gotten a proper shuteye during that whole period, whatever Corpse is offering has to be better than this misery.

“Rent can be discussed once you move in...“ He trails off, “And it’s not rat nor roach infested but there’s a slight issue...“

“Which is?“ I’m honestly expecting the worst: in a bad neighborhood; faulty wiring with a high chance of being electrocuted; faulty piping with a high chance of flooding; people have died there; things get randomly moved around in the middle of the night etc. However, I don’t voice any of them to avoid getting laughed at for my wild imagination.

“Well, uh, it’s corpse infested.“ He says a little awkwardly, causing me to let out an inaudible sigh.

So my ‘people have died there’ guess was on point, huh?

“People have died there, huh? Well, I can turn a blind eye to that as long as I don’t find their bodies in the closet or meet their spirits at 3AM.“ I attempt to joke, now second-guessing my eagerness to accept the offer.

Corpse bursts out laughing his ass off at my statement, getting me to furrow my eyebrows in confusion and wonder what I said was so funny - it was a poor attempt at a joke, it in no way deserves that sort of reaction, barely a chuckle in my opinion.

“You’re golden, Y/N, I swear.“ He says once he forces the laughter to subside, “I meant corpse infested as in Corpse Husband infested.“ He breaks out in another fit as my brain slowly starts connecting the dots.

Oooohh he’s asking me to go live with him

“Wait. Wait, wait, wait, hold up for a sec. Are you aware of what you’re offering me? I mean, we’ve never met IRL, you barely know me and....and for all you know I could be the serial killer in this situation!“ I have no idea why I’m pushing my luck, don’t ask. I just don’t want him to make a decision he’ll later regret, I guess. “Like, I could kill you in your sleep!“

“Would you?“ He asks confidently, silently stating he already knows the answer.

I roll my eyes, “Of course not! But...” He cuts me off.

“Great, the offer stands on my end. I’m not a noisy nor nosey roommate so I suggest you start packing. If you choose to live in that hell-hole over living with me, I’m sorry but I’ll be hella offended, just so you know.“

Corpse sounds like he’s about to hang up on me, a decision already made, so I hurry to stop him. “Wait! What about rent?”

“Fuck the rent, pack your bags.“ And just like that, despite my efforts, he hangs up on me.

Well...this is a chance of a lifetime that I know refusing would lead me to not only remain stuck here but also put me in the hugest loser bin. There’s also the fear of being Corpse’s burden which I’ll try my best not to be - I mean, I’m a super independent person and Lord knows that if this offer came any other time or from any other person, I would’ve declined asap, no discussion.

But streaming

But sleeping properly

But having a normal life again

Yeah those are most certainly the reasons I get up and go into the closet in search on my emptied suitcase. Time to fill it up again, I guess. This time with a smile on my face and excitement fueling each and every movement of mine.

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[youn9racha]

Don’t Test Me

Requested by: @crzy-devil

Pairing: Jinyoungxmasc!reader (with a vag tho)

Words: 3.1 k

Warning: dom!reader, sub!jinyoung, consent being explicitly discussed, implied masturbation, mentions of pornography, implied dacryphilia, weapon play (fake gun), pegging, mentions of butt plugs, jinyoung in a short skirt, dirty talk, overstimulation

Extra Notes: wheewww finally my first got7 request ʅ（◞‿◟）ʃ don’t get me wrong, i‘ve been enjoying writing skz chan and changbin smut but i’ve been meaning to write some got7 but i wouldn’t think anyone would read it :( but yay finally i got something. i pray i don’t fuck this up, and i hope this is okay everything you want 😔

photo edit is not mine

——————————————————————————

This is no way representative of the way Got7 act. They’re nothing but references of character, and in no shape or form is this how they act. And I am in no way romanticizing or glamorizing any toxic behavior exhibited, they’re just stories that is meant to be read. Readers discretion is advised.

—————————————————————————

You and Jinyoung have an interesting relationship to say the least. Jinyoung is always thought to be that dominant guy who’s always protective of the people whom he cares about, especially towards his partner. While that is true that he is protective and caring, however no one knows who the real Jinyoung Park except you, or at least who he is in your bedroom.

It was no secret that you two are very open about your sexual needs to each other, and it may come to the surprise to anyone to know that a man like Jinyoung is more submissive than anyone would think. But you however didn’t think so.

Prior to meeting him, you may follow what everyone says about Jinyoung, but five months into your relationship with your boyfriend, you were shocked, yet pleased, to see him one day in adorning nothing but a skirt, a butt plug, and a leash, innocently yet seductively telling you to touch him. And ever since then, you’ve been the one Jinyoung looked up to and waiting for to ruin him.

Every sexual encounter with him were exciting and fun, but there was one incident that took the title of the most amazing sexual roleplay you both have took in and neither of you had any sense of regret. Even if you guys would have broken up—knocking on wood—, it’ll probably not top anything but that moment.

~~

”(y/n!)” Jinyoung exclaimed in a sing song-y way as he walked into the apartment door with something hidden behind his back. He spotted you laying onto the couch, legs lazily splayed open as you looked up to the ceiling with half eyes open. It was clear that you were tired and wanted to rest, but Jinyoung didn’t care, “I’ve got something to show you..”

You looked up at him with a furrowed eyebrows, “what is it Jiny—ah!”

You felt wide awake when you saw Jinyoung unexpectedly pulled a gun straight into your face and pretended to shoot by making certain movements and sounds.

“Jinyoung, what the fuck?!” You exclaimed with your eyes popping out your socket with fear, leaning far away from him, only for him to get closer to you. Jinyoung saw the fear in your eyes, which made him laugh at my state. “I’m being for real, put the gun down!” Your heart was rightfully pounding, fearing not only for your life but at Jinyoung’s sickening laugh.

”Oh, relax, big baby, its a fake gun,” Jinyoung said with an eye roll.

You looked at the man on top of you with a baffled expression, he flipped the gun around and shoved it to you, “see, carry it.”

You looked at the gun, then at the man, then back at the silver object with a gulp. You took the gun out of his hand, and to your relief it was indeed fake, with it being very lightweight and looking at it up close. Props to whoever made this gun look really realistic, at least at a distance.

Jinyoung laughed at your relieved expression, “did you really think I’d bring an actual gun?”

You shrugged at him, “I wouldn’t be surprised to be honest,” you jokingly replied to which Jinyoung opens his mouth agape. Now it was your turn to laugh, “I’m joking, baby,” you patted his cheeks and he pouted in response, “you’re fucked up, (y/n).” He says that as he laid on top of you.

There was a moment of silence until you began questioning why he had the toy gun. Jinyoung fidgeted with his fingers, sort of hesitating with the words he wants to say. “Baby?” Your calling for him sounded more dragging rather than a questioning call, as your hold on him got tighter. “I kinda wanted you to use it on me,” He blurted, not baring to look at you, while you looked at him with a confused expression.

He didn’t see you but he can sense your confusion, “I want you to use it on your dumb whore..” and thats where your eyes widened. You knew exactly what he wanted.

You would lie if you said you didn’t have the thought of the idea, but that does not mean that you’re feeling one hundred percent sure about all of this. You both are experimental people, and enjoy trying new things at least one, and pain on both ends goes right up your and Jinyoung’s alley. But you wouldn’t go as far as bringing weapon into this, albeit fake, but still.

You thought of how weak he would look over you though, how he tries so hard to fight back but it fails miserably and pathetically. You easily find yourself slowly warming up but then caught yourself as you uncertainty was still in habiting your consciousness.

Your ears met with his gentle voice with him saying, “baby, if you don’t want to do this, I understand,“ Jinyoung held onto your arm in comfort.

“It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s just what if I’m gonna hurt you with the gun?” You held Jinyoung, which endearingly smiled at you. He admires how no matter how hard you go on him, he still can see how you’re very loving and caring towards him. The last thing you wanted to do is to harm your baby Jinyoung.

”baby, you won’t hurt me, you’ve held the gun. It’s fake and it won’t do anything,” Jinyoung rubbed your arms, reassuringly, “besides, we have a safe word, and if you did anything uncomfortable, I’ll just say the word.” You looked back at his eyes. His eyes were entrancing to you, its a contrasting blend of assertiveness, plead and child-like. You have no idea how can one have the capability to withhold such power like this, but knowing Jinyoung, you can see how it works.

You smiled back at him with a gentle caress in the cheek, “I’ll think about it.”

~~

You’ve given yourself sometime to think about it. Jinyoung made it absolutely clear that he won’t do anything that would make you uncomfortable. For a typical submissive person, he still values your comfort, but that is regardless whether he is submissive or dominant, verbal and emotional consent holds a great value in your relationship.

You’ve scrolled through the internet and went on certain adult website to see what got Jinyoung that excited about all this. You did see the hype, but you were still unsure about it, so you just wanted to give sometime where the ice of uncertainty is melted.

While browsing, you saw a distinctive video. The thumbnail caught your eye, as it had a pretty boy in a pink skirt laid on the bed with his leg spread and what looks to be someone pegging him. The video was of the type you’ve looked it up but it was different because it seems to be more of a point of view type of video.

Your mouse hovered over the thumbnail, almost clicking it. You turned to check if Jinyoung was still in the house. It’s not that he cared about you watching porn, he knows that no amount of videos will match up with you taking him on the spot. But you didn’t want him to see you researching, as you wanted to surprise him in case you enjoyed it.

You’ve not seen his presence and you decided to text him, to make sure if everything’s clear and that he’s not close to your proximity whatsoever.

(y/n): hey babe !!

(y/n): where are you ??

Jinyoung immediately saw your message. The bubble and dots of his began showing up until his message was sent.

Baby boy <3: heyy !!

Baby boy <3: oh i’m hanging out with Jaebeom rn i’m also gonna spend the night at his place if thats not a problem with you :)

Baby boy <3: y ??? u need anything ??

you sighed with relief to not only see him respond back, but also that he won’t come back later. Never would you have thought to say this, considering that you’re overtly obsessed with the man.

(y/n): no !! i was just checking up on u !!

(y/n): its fine by me :)) have fun and tell jaebeom i said hi

Baby boy <3: will do ^_^ see you tomorrow baby

Baby boy <3: i’ll miss you <3333

(y/n): i miss you too darling xx

Once the coast was clear, you’ve turned off your phone, turned back to your computer screen and turned on the video.

The video startes off with the boy, who eerily reminded you so much of your boyfriend with his mannerisms and body type, calling out to the presumed viewer. He only wore a skirt, a choker, and what looks to be a jeweled butt plug. To say that the scenery wasn’t a turn on would an absolute lie. You almost moaned at the scenery as you‘ve suddenly started to see, instead of the actor‘s face, Jinyoung.

His pleading eyes were captivating you as you felt yourself getting wet at the way the man is looking at you. Suddenly a pink gun was put into the face of the boy and hearing him yelp in fear did something to you. You felt your organ began twitching at the way the boy looked up to the gun. Seeing how the gun was shoved into his mouth as he began making lewd movements and noises while getting his pretty dick stroked, it did all wonders for you.

You felt your hands going down your pants as you carried on watching the video. This may have awakened something in you, and you can’t wait to showcase to Jinyoung when he gets back.

~~

You sat back in your couch waiting for Jinyoung. It was the next day, and you didn't have much to plan, but you decided to keep the fake gun near you for the sake of your role. It was almost nighttime and the clock kept ticking as you anticpated your boyfriend's arrival.

Jinyoung didn't know about the whole ordeal, he probably thought that you were gonna be out running errands, hanging out with your friends, or even just sleep. But what he won't expect is you sitting on the couch, lust blown in your whole system and hiding the gun he brought in. He never would have thought to see you with it, up until this moment.

While you wait for him to show up, you scrolled through your phone, mindlessly liking any posts that comes in your way. You didn't care on whatever is on your screen, all you wanted was Jinyoung bending over, ready for you. You smirked at the dirty thought, until you heard keys clashing against each other then one inserted into the locked door. In comes the prettiest boy you have ever laid your eyes on, he came in with a bag in his shoulder and adorned a baggy pink sweatshirt and skinny jeans. He smiled when he saw you on the couch, waiting for him.

Normally you would feel soft and warm over his appearance, however the sinister thoughts inhabiting you was clouding every other thought. Jinyoung extended his arm up to stretch after putting down his bag, as he came in and sat down next to you, eventually attacking with kisses as a greeting. Typically, you would laugh at his typically private yet adorable affections, but you could only look at him with semi blank stare.

He noticed the stare in your face, his face shifted into a worried frown, “whats wrong? you’ve been acting weird since yesterday.” You looked at Jinyoung with your hands in his face. You couldn’t help but smile at the clueless boy in front of you, “Jinyoung, have I ever mentioned you’re gorgeous?”

Jinyoung’s confusion starts to get even bigger as his eyebrows furrowed. Not knowing what to say, he just went along with, “yeah?” It was clear evident confusion and you weren’t dumb. You knew he‘d be confused, thats the point, you want him to be clueless and confused about the whole ordeal.

“What if I told you that you’re all I think about?” You whispered, as you began caressing his face. His face was still grimacing in confusion, however he would lie if he said that the thought of you thinking about him nonstop makes him feel good and excited. “I love you so much…”

“(y/n), cut the bullshit, whats goin—” Jinyoung has had enough with your suspicious act and decided to confront you, up until he felt something on his jaw, which he ended up cutting his words with a gasp. It felt something cold against his pulse, his eyes were dragged to the source only to see something he wasn’t expected to see, yet is pleased. It was the toy gun he handed to you. His mouth was open agape, and you said, “I thought much through about it, and I decided why not,” you had a loving and evil smirk on your face, and he simply just smiled back at you, “and besides,” you leaned closer to his ear.

”The thought of you begging for mercy does things to me, you do not understand your powers you have on me, Park Jinyoung,” Jinyoung shuddered at you whispering out his full name at him. He could already feel himself getting hard at your words, and the thought of the gun digging into his skin makes the process faster. You knew that he was getting aroused without you looking down at his crouch, so you opted to use your other hand and held his member, to which he let out a closed mouth moan.

“You know what to do..” you said after pulling your face out of his ear and staring straight into his face. He looked like a puppy with his eyes innocently sparkling at you. You slapped his thigh to get up to do what he’s doing, which you took him out of his trance, nodded at you and got up.

“I’ll give you five minutes,” you said loud enough where he can still hear as he walks, more like wobbling, into your shared bedroom, while you smirked at his adorable weak state. You looked at the gun and you knew were gonna have fun with your boy toy.

~~ Five minutes have passed, and you decided to walk into the bedroom where Jinyoung is at at a painfully slow pace. You felt like a lion going after a deer, ready to devour it on the spot, with Jinyoung being the deer in this situation. You dragged the gun against the wall as you got closer to your bedroom. You can already sense Jinyoung getting weaker and weaker without even looking at him. You hear heavy breathing coming from out of your bedroom, and you felt your lust is started to mix fury with it as you knew exactly what he was doing.

However you kept your composure and still have the smirk drawn into your face. You reached the door, and you opened the door to see a sight that both angered and aroused you. Jinyoung was dressed in a pink short skirt and a crop top along side with thigh highs, his whole cock was out as he was stroking himself as he was looking at himself in the mirror. Still in his lust world, he didn’t notice your presence up until you spoke.

“Who told you you can touch yourself?” You questioned with a crossed arm and a lean into the door sill. Jinyoung gasped his eyes wide open, his hand stopped stroking as he was looking at you with pleading eyes, “I-I’m sorry,” he gulped as you got closer to him, looking at him with a scowl. Despite him being slightly taller by a few centimeters, he still looks and feels smaller than you, especially at this moment.

“I couldn’t help it, I j-j—“ You cut his pathetic talk by putting the gun into his cheek. His mouth was wide shut as he fearfully looked at the gun then back at you. You glided the gun across the face as his breath hitches, you stopped the gun at his mouth. “Open your mouth,” you growled at him, which he didn’t respond at first as he was too aroused to function. You shoved the weapon not too harsh that it could hurt him, but not too light, to wake him up to, which he just moaned.

”I didn’t even touch you, and yet you’re already fucked up,” you commented as you tugged his bottom lip with the gun making him whimper. You tapped his face and commanded again, “open.”

This time he complied and he stuck his tongue out, you lightly inserted the weapon into his mouth as he wrapped his mouth around it.

To say that the scenery was pornographic was an understatement. A man in his short skirt down on his knees sucking on a weapon as his superior is tugging on his hair, it was hot to look at, you and Jinyoung would agree. It was typical that Jinyoung is going dumb just for you, he’s willing to drop everything just to satisfy your needs. He loves you too much. And to see you enjoying his idea makes him feel really good.

~~~ ”Thats what you fucking get for being a dumb slut,” You thrusted your strap on onto your pretty boy’s hole as he grips into the sheets underneath him. His legs placed on your shoulder while your hips were moving in and out of him.

“I-I-I’m s-sorry! I’m not gonna do it again!” Jinyoung was a mess under you, he’s practically crying as he feels his hole getting stretched with pleasure. Tears rolling down his face as he feels his orgasm get closer. You can see that based on his face twist that he was getting closer so you stopped thrusting for the nth time, which caused him to whine and sob louder.

“Bad sluts like you don’t deserve to cum,” You leaned over, his leg still on your shoulder and squished his cheeks. His nose was tinted pink due to blissed out cry and the amount of times you’d edge him, and the fact you still resisted giving him what he want made him blush even more. You both love it, especially Jinyoung, who may love this more than you do. He loves getting edged and getting all this punishment. He was a walking masochist, and because he is what he is, you ended up loving it and use it for your advantage.

Despite his “apologies,” he always misbehaves just so he can get punished by his superior. He is a brat in disguise, and you love it. You love giving him the punishment that he ever so deserves, as much as you love degrading him and you absolutely love seeing him being at your mercy.

He simply looked up at you with teary eyes and says softly, “I’m a bad slut, but I’m your bad slut,” to which you smirked back at his claim.

Your Bad Slut. That’s exactly what he is.

[missskzbiased]

Eggy First Date

Summary: You can’t seem to catch a break this week. You’ve run out of eggs, visibly stained your living room carpet with grape juice, and worst of all: your laundry machine has broken down. Such an event has resulted in you awkwardly shuffling your dirty clothes to the nearest laundromat, but hey, at least the boy using the machine next to you is cute!

WC: 2,3 K

Requested: By Stayndays <3 Thank you, Buddy!

Genre: Slice of Life, Fluff, Humor (?)

AUs: College, (Implied) Classmates to Lovers, Crushes, Kinda Friends to Lovers

Pairing: Yang Jeongin X GN! Reader

Rebloggable Masterlist   //   Main Masterlist

Warnings: Mentions of food, Language (Crap/Shit)

                                                   ////

   Yep… Turns out it’s impossible to fix one’s life in a few hours.

      You should have known better than letting everything pile up like that, but now it was a little bit too late to be sorry. As your phone insisted on reminding you ─ alarm shouting for anyone to hear ─, your parents should arrive at your apartment in about two hours. It didn’t sound too bad when you put it like this, but when you think in perspective, it’s kinda easy to see why you’re screwed up…

      The first problem: You have no eggs.

     It may not sound that alarming, but you promised your mom to flex your culinary skills and bake her favorite cake as soon as she came to visit you. Funnily enough, when you tried to fix some scrambled eggs on Tuesday ─ a hopeful attempt to eat anything other than cup noodles ─ you had to drop half of them to your recently cleaned floor. In other words, not only you had to clean your floor again but you also had only four eggs to make your lunch and survive the week… Which meant you ran out of eggs by Wednesday.

      Now, you didn’t have to be a genius to know that having no eggs meant no favorite cake for your mom… And as much as having no cake didn’t sound like the end of the world, it was only the beginning. No cake meant questions, and questions meant answers, and answers meant you would have to either tell them the truth or lie to them… Unfortunately, you couldn’t tell them the truth or else you would expose your Thursday’s mistake, but we’ll get to that later.

      That being said, you were left with two options: Lie to them ─ and risk being caught ─ or buy fresh eggs to bake her a cake. It was needless to say that you went with the last one. However, by Wednesday night ─ when, despite having no eggs, you had finals to worry about ─, buying your groceries after your exams, on Friday, sounded like the perfect plan. And it kinda was… At least for the next 24H that followed it, before you managed to screw everything up on Thursday.

      The second problem: Grape juice.

      You were stressed out, alright?! You had only one more day to go with your exams and it may or may not have gotten to your head. So drinking grape juice on the couch ─ since you had no actual food to eat and have been feeding on liquids ─ while watching a 20 minutes episode of Brooklyn 99 was a good way to relax. Perhaps, you should act more like the nonfunctional college student that you were. This way, you would be studying in your room instead of missing the coffee table as you laughed; spilling your juice on the carpet.

      Of course, it couldn’t be a normal carpet that was totally replaceable… No, it had to be the very own carpet your grandma gifted to your father when he moved out… It happened to be the same one her mother gave to her when she moved out as well! Of course, it had to be this one and not the stupid carpet on your bathroom that meant absolutely nothing. It had to be the carpet your father gifted to you while saying that this new journey full of responsibilities ─ also called miserable college life ─ would be blessed by your previous generations or whatever!

     Basically, you just drowned your whole family in cheap juice that tasted like purple! Because of a joke! A joke that wasn’t even that good! It definitely wasn’t worth it.

     Whatever was the necessary skill to remove a stain from a carpet, you didn’t have it. And you didn’t have the time to learn it either. So, as a desperate student, you did the best you could: Blot the liquid with a wet cloth, pour about half of the ocean over the spot, mix the most random stuff you had, soak the carpet overnight, and go off to sleep so you wouldn’t botch your finals.

      The third problem: The Rise of the Machines. 

      When you got home after your exams ─ no eggs, ‘cause your mind was too focused on saving the carpet ─, you were still hopeful that everything was going to be okay. The Internet blessed you with the ultimate knowledge to remove any stains from a sacred carpet and you followed each step as if your life depended on it. Because it did. You did such an amazing job that the spotless area turned into a clean spot on the dirty carpet… And that, dearest friends, was the real problem.

      It was exactly 10:27 PM when you decided to shove your carpet into the washing machine and go downstairs to buy a burger on your friend’s stand. It was about 11:13 PM when you got back to your place, happily fed and unworried about your life. It took you less than a minute to have all of your happiness fading away as you saw that the foam spilled over the floor, bringing you a sad realization: Your washing machine had failed you.

     In other words, you had a damp, dirty carpet to save, a dozen eggs to buy, a cake to bake, and a lie to keep in the next… Twelve hours or something. And you needed to sleep for at least half of that time. But that was okay! Everything was fine… You had six hours to fix your entire life tomorrow, right? Yeah… Except that not really, no. Because obviously ─ how didn’t you see that coming? ─, your phone had decided to not wake you up the next morning.

     The fourth problem: Your parents.

     The two hours ahead of you could mean twenty minutes or even a second… Knowing your parents, they could be standing right in front of your door, ringing your bell and asking themselves why you weren’t home. The answer would be because you were at the laundromat next to your building, which wasn’t the cheapest one but it was the closest thing you had to a miracle right now. Well, it would be, if the washing machine actually gave a shit about your struggles.

      As the water slowly spilled over your carpet ─ instead of being gushed to soak the damn thing ─, you let your shoulders drop and a sigh escape from your lips. You didn’t know if you felt more relieved for finally having things working out or defeated for having to go through all of this. The exhausted eyes you met in your reflection were a good hint, though, and you got closer to the glass door to rest your forehead on the cold surface and take a small break. At least ─ as long as your parents didn’t arrive before the drying cycle ─, they would never know about the truth and everything should be just fine… You wouldn’t need to worry about being kicked out from the family.

      “Crap” You grumbled, mindlessly knocking your head on the door on repeat.

      “Tough day, huh?” The soft voice was familiar, but the warm hand preventing you from hitting the glass again wasn’t. You frowned before turning to check if you weren’t going crazy. To your misfortune, the cute boy smiling sympathetically at you was exactly who you thought it was “That’s bad for you” He pointed out, chuckling as he watched you snapping your head away from his hand.

      “Hey!” You blurted; face burning to the thought of him seeing you like this. Why everything had to go so wrong in your life?! Why did Jeongin have to see you wearing the most sloppy outfit you could ever wear? Your hands flew to your hair to try and fix the nest on top of your head “What’s up?” You huffed playfully; hitting his shoulder lightly in the most unnatural way that you could.

     Way to go, Y/N! Humiliate yourself in front of your crush!

     “Just washing some stuff” He shrugged, pointing to the machine next to yours, “You don’t usually come here, though… Well, at least, I never saw you here before” He mused, arching his brow “Are you following me around now?” He whispered teasingly, cupping his hand around his mouth as he smirked at you.

      “What?! No!” You panicked, widening your eyes and floundering your hands in the air “I’m not, I swear!” You insisted as he stared at you mockingly, “If anything you’re the one following me! I live nearby! Where do you live?! Is it even close?!” You defended yourself vehemently; poking his chest as you visibly lost your mind.

      “I’m joking, jeez!” He chortled, rubbing his torso “Calm down, Y/N… It’s your neighborhood, I know” He reassured you, squeezing your shoulder and chuckling as you relaxed under his touch “I was just trying to make you feel better” He explained; hand sliding to pat your back “What’s up? Did you mess up on your exams?” Jeongin asked; tone wandering around curiosity and worry.

      “No… I did just fine” You sighed; getting him to tilt his head in confusion ─ he’s so cute scrunching his nose like this! ─ while you smiled at him, getting back to your senses.

      It was just Jeongin, for Lord’s sake… He was your classmate! He had seen you look way worse than this before, if you were being honest. Which wasn’t that reassuring now that you think about it… But anyway! He had seen you drooling all over your desk, and snoring, and looking like a zombie! There was nothing to worry about… Even if he kinda is really cute and you kinda have a crush on him.

      “Wanna talk about it?” He offered friendly. Did he really have to be this kind and bubbly while smiling at you? Couldn’t he be a little bit less cute? Or just look like a normal human being while doing his laundry? Like having messy hair… Or messy clothes… Or dark circles under his eyes… Or just not look this fresh and perfect and… “Y/N?” He called unsurely, waving his hand in front of your eyes.

      “Sorry” You rushed to say, ducking your head between your shoulders “I... I mean, there’s a lot going on in my mind now” It wasn’t exactly a lie, but it wasn’t quite the truth. You were just thinking about him, but he didn’t need to know that, “Mom and Dad are going to come and visit me today… I promised to bake her a cake, but I ran out of eggs” Now you were just spilling whatever was on your mind, hm? It probably didn’t even make sense for him.

      “And you thought doing your laundry could get you some?” He joked confusedly, laughing as you pouted at him.

      “No…” You whined, kicking him lightly “I knocked my grape juice on the family’s sacred carpet… So I’m trying to make it look okay or else my dad is going to kill me” You explained further, pinching the bridge of your nose “But they’re coming and I still have to buy those damn eggs, and bake this damn cake, and wash this damn—”

     “Hey, hey” He shushed you, holding both of your shoulders to prompt you to look into his eyes. They held a thousand million stars… But that wasn’t really the point “Everything’s good, okay? Why don’t we go to buy some eggs, then you go and bake your cake?” He suggested calmly, massaging your skin as he smiled reassuringly “I can take care of your laundry… Mine is here anyway” He chuckled, seeing the way your eyes lit up to his plan “I can get it to your house before they get there… They’ll never know” He promised.

      “No way” You chirped; hands jolting to his face and grabbing his cheeks firmly “Jeongin” You said seriously; eyes unwavering as you stared right into his “You’re my hero” You stated matter-of-factly, enticing a wide grin from him “I owe you my life, I mean it” You concluded, quickly letting go of his face.

     What were you doing?!     

     “Ask me on a date and we’re even” He joked.

      “Don’t be silly” You rolled your eyes, pretending not to be affected by his friendly banter.

      “Fair enough… So go out with me on a date and we’re even” He smirked; eyes glinting amusedly as you let your mouth fall agape to his request. You took a while to react properly, and the growing silence seemed to get into Jeongin’s head, “I mean… I’d like to if that’s okay with you…” He shrugged, gulping down nervously “I’ve been wanting to… I was going to ask… I was just waiting for…” He floundered, clearing his throat to make it less obvious.

      “Well, if it makes us even…” You fought back your smile, watching as his anxiety dissolved into relief before he beamed at you “I guess I’d love to go on a date with you...” He laughed wholeheartedly, taking your hands in his “What about next week?” You suggested coyly, enjoying the warmth of his touch.

      “What about now?” He grinned like a fox.

      “Have you listened to what I said before?” You chortled “I have to buy some eggs and –” You began to enumerate on your fingers, but he giggled playfully, interrupting you.

      “You know what’s funny?” He smirked “My dream was to buy some eggs with you as a first date… I don’t think we’ll ever get this chance again” The corner of his lips twitched; dimples showing as he looked fondly at you “Shall we?” He asked in mocking politeness, extending his arm for you to take.

      “I must say you have such a weird taste…” You hummed, studying his extended arm amusedly “But you’re cute, so it’s all forgiven” You shrugged, chuckling as he locked his arm with yours and took the lead to find a grocery store nearby.

[immaturityofthomasastruc]

IOTA Reviews: Gang of Secrets

Well... I'll give this episode one thing. It's better than what we got from both “Truth” and “Lies”, and it did do one of the things I hoped the writers would tackle this season. That's not saying much, but I'll take what I can get.

Let's get into the fourth (chronologically the third) episode of Miraculous Ladybug's fourth season: Gang of Secrets

We start off right after an Akuma battle, and while Cat Noir is eager for their victory fist bump, Ladybug seems to be on edge, insisting that they go on patrol. Cat Noir thinks of a place that they can relax at without talking... and he chooses to take Ladybug to see a romantic comedy.

We're not even a minute in, people, and it already looks like Ladybug is considering using her authority as Guardian to take away Cat Noir's Miraculous.

Ladybug goes on a brief tangent summarizing what happened with Luka (which conveniently happens to reflect the events of the movie), and naturally isn't happy with the movie. Gee, it's almost like Cat Noir's plan was a bad idea. He seriously tries the whole “pretend to yawn as an excuse to put his arm around Ladybug” trick, so you can't tell me he didn't have romantic intentions here.

Why Kagami couldn't accept Adrien's “true self” is beyond me.

After storming out of the movie theater, Cat Noir tries to emphasize with Ladybug (key word being ���tries”) by going on about how “he knows what a broken heart is like”. At least he didn't ask if she was single now. Ladybug decides to go for a swim, but we cut back to Marinette's house, with Ladybug in her aqua form, implying she went to the pool while still transformed. And here's a big problem with the episode. In theory, I like the idea of Marinette stressing over her new responsibilities, as it could lead to some interesting plotlines. The problem is that when we get something like that in this episode, it's played entirely for laughs. At one point, Alya mentions hearing Marinette crying in the bathroom because of the stress she's been going through. And instead of being a dramatic scene, she just runs out in some Groucho Marx glasses for some reason, because according to the writers, we're supposed to laugh at Marinette suffering from a potential mental breakdown.

This just raises several questions about the way we're supposed to treat Marinette's behavior in this episode. Are we supposed to take this seriously? Not completely, because of how a lot of the “jokes” in the first act of the episode revolve around Marinette's anxiety being driven up to eleven. Are we supposed to see all of this as a joke? Not completely, because the end of the episode is when the writers decide to take Marinette's inner demons seriously. It leads to a very conflicting picture the episode is trying to paint with the way Marintte's conflict is portrayed.

We then cut to what seems to be the only thing the writers like to do with this character now, Alya acting like has control over Marinette's love life.

Of course those are the only pictures Alya got of Marinette.

Uh... Alya? Honey? Have you even considered the fact that maybe Marinette didn't tell you about Luka because that's none of your damn business??? What gives you the right to know every single detail about your friend's life? I understand that you're a hardcore Adrienette shipper (and an unintentional metaphor for how obsessed the writers are with the Love Square), but why would Marinette be obligated to tell you about Luka?

I know that I asked Marinette if she told Alya about Luka in my “Truth” review, but that was because she continued to force the belief that Marinette still liked Adrien onto her. Yeah, I'm still confused as to why Marinette didn't tell Alya, but the difference is that I was more confused at her not explaining it, and felt it would have made the conflict in the New York special a lot easier. I don't think Marinette has to tell Alya, I just think it would make some things easier between them with how much Alya wants Adrienette to be canon. Marinette has no obligation to tell Alya anything about who she's dating. What goes on in someone's love life is a private matter, and we'll see that Alya has no regards for privacy.

Alya, along with Juleka, Rose, Mylene, and Alix, devises a plan to give Marinette a friendship bracelet to show their support for her. And as usual, Alix has the simple idea to talk to Marinette about what's going on with her, and of course, she's ignored. Sorry, Alix, but this is an Alya episode, where smart choices don't fly here.

We cut back to Marinette's room where we get a pretty good scene where Marinette confides to Tikki about how she knows she has no chance of having a love life. She points out how she had to end things with Luka because of her secrets, and knows that even if she worked up the courage to talk to Adrien, she couldn't do anything because of the same secrets. She can't tell her parents or friends about her secrets and is forced to lie to everyone all the time. The voice actress gives a good performance, and the animators did a good job rendering the red eyes Marinette gets from crying.

And then we get back to the stupid stuff, where Marinette decides to transform into Ladybug and demands Hawkmoth (even though he's Shadowmoth at this point) show himself. This is really just an excuse for the Girl Squad to barge into Marinette's room, where Rose sees the dollhouse Marinette uses to hide the Miracle Ball. Marinette quickly runs back in and tries to hide the the Miracle Ball from her friends, who confront her about her “problem”.

No, real friends respect boundaries and don't demand to know every single detail about someone's life. They understand that there are secrets they don't have the right to know about. If Alya found out that Alix still needs to sleep with a nightlight and told everyone, would you really be surprised if she got mad at Alya for exposing this secret of hers? Right now, Marinette is clearly uncomfortable about telling her friends about a secret she has, and rather than understand she doesn't want to, they just keep pressing on, and don't care how unhappy she looks.

Unsurprisingly, Marinette tells them all to get out, saying she doesn't want them as friends anymore. Okay, so we're in every salt fic ever written now. Again, we get a good scene where Marinette feels remorseful for what she said (as understandable as it was), while the girls leave with their heads down.

Shadowmoth sends out an Akuma for the friendship bracelet, and because the object had personal meaning to all of them, Alya, Juleka, Rose, Mylene, and Alix all get akumatized into their previous Akuma forms, Lady Wifi, Reflekta (yet again), Princess Fragrance, Horrificator, and Timebreaker respectively. Shadowmoth calls them the “Gang of Secrets”. But they were akumatized because of secrets. Wouldn't a more accurate name be something like “The Honesty Brigate” or “Truth Troop?”

When I reviewed “Felix”, I had talked about how the motivations for the three Punishers weren't didn't reflect their Akuma forms, which were twisted versions of what they were feeling like at the time. While the same thing applies here (as well as “Heroes' Day”, now that I think about it, though I always thought it was like a drawback to Scarletmoth's powers), the titular Gang of Secrets is actually a pretty good lineup.

I think my main problem in “Felix” is that we didn't get to see the three Akumas working together much because the writers were trying to prioritize Felix as the primary threat of the episode and failed miserably. Here, we get to see a lot of interesting combos and strategies I never really thought about. Lady Wifi uses her powers to freeze some civilians while Timebreaker skates by and absorbs their energy for her skates. Reflekta zaps some other civilians while Princess Fragrance sprays them with her perfume to brainwash them into looking for Marinette, even if it’s the only time this episode that we get to hear “At your service, Princess Fragrance~!”. Horrificator intentionally goes around scaring people while growing in size, acting as the muscle (even though she doesn't do anything in this episode). They all work surprisingly well together, acting like Ladybug and Cat Noir's own Sinister Six.

After making a new safe to hide the Miracle Ball, Lady Wifi breaks into Marinette's room again, so Trixx, the Fox Kwami, uses his power to create a mirage to distract her. But like when Plagg used his Cataclysm in “Style Queen”, it has a little drawback.

The funny thing is that this doesn't even crack the top 5 in terms of weirdest things to happen to the Eiffel Tower in this show.

We cut to Adrien's room so the show can remind the audience he exists before he transforms into Cat Noir. The two don't meet up in person, but Ladybug tells Cat Noir to keep Timebreaker busy so she doesn't travel back in time while Ladybug goes after Lady Wifi. Of course, she doesn't have the friendship bracelet, but that wasn't Ladybug's plan in the first place.

Her actual plan is talking to Lady Wifi in an attempt to get Alya to break free of Shadowmoth's control. It's short, but it's a nice scene, with Ladybug explaining to Alya that even though they can't know everything about each other, they're still friends. So against all odds, Alya manages to reject the bond with Shadowmoth.

Oh yeah, it's not like we saw Chloe reject an Akuma in “Miraculer”, right? And Chrismaster giving up his akumatized object for Ladybug to purify? That didn't count either. Alya is clearly the first person to ever do this, and this is why you should immediately accept what happens later on.

Alya tells Ladybug where the Akuma is, and in response, Ladybug gives Alya the Fox Miraculous, which she uses to transform into Rena Rouge... even though she was already benched in “Feast” for endangering herself by uploading a video about the history of the Guardians to the internet, just like how Queen Bee and Ryuko were benched earlier for similar reasons, and the latter only appeared again because Ladybug wanted to get Kagami away from Adrien. Because I guess we're just going to ignore one of the biggest plotpoints of “Miracle Queen” now.

The other Akumas have Cat Noir at their mercy, so Rena Rouge uses her Mirage to create an illusion of Marinette to distract them. Timebreaker goes off to chase the illusion, and while Horrificator, Princess Fragrance, and Reflekta are about to take Ladybug's Miraculous, Rena Rouge and Cat Noir are the ones to break the object. Overall, a really clever climax to the episode.

So after Alya returns her Miraculous to Ladybug, we cut back to Marinette apologizing to her friends, who never apologize for invading her privacy. And while she mentions Luka, Marinette suddenly talks about how hard is to confess her feelings for Adrien, something that was never mentioned in this episode, because the writers are desperately trying to encourage the audience to ship the Love Square again brutally shooting down Lukanette and Adrigami. And after all this, Alya goes back up after everyone else leaves because she can just tell Marinette has another secret. How does she know this?

Okay, fine, Alya can be supportive of Marinette, and even her worst moments like the New York special were motivated by what she thought would make Marinette happy. A little misguided, and yeah, her teasing can be annoying at times, but she's ultimately there to help push Marinette to be honest with her feelings. “Reporter” is stretching it a little. No matter what the show likes to say, Alya isn't a good reporter. She barely verifies her sources and just posts things online. I'm sorry, but the Ladyblog is basically the superhero equivalent to TMZ. Alya probably doesn't even know who Joseph Pulitzer or Edward R. Murrow are, because rather than reporting the news to the public, she just wants to find things that will get her clicks on her website. Alya's biggest flaw as a character is that she is incredibly impulsive, but like everything else in the show, this flaw is never acknowledged, and is basically rewarded. Why do I say that? Well...

I have a lot of mixed feelings about this scene. On the one hand, it's very well acted, and the interaction genuinely highlights Marinette and Alya's friendship. Before she tells Alya, Marinette is just opening her heart out to her friend, and the grievances are played completely seriously. Even the reaction Alya gives when she finds out is very subdued, simply showing her shocked face before she gives Marinette a hug, with no dialogue. It's a very profound moment, and it's arguably one of the best in the entire series. Even the ending card doesn't show an action scene, but rather, it continues to focus on the hug while the Kwamis watch.

And thankfully, the episode doesn't end with the standard upbeat “Duh dun dun dun dunnnn, DA DA DA DA~!” track that almost every episode, no matter how depressing, usually ends with. It's just a really great moment, and a good way to end the episode... on its own.

When you think about previous episodes, like what I've mentioned with Alya, it's just strange that despite all the times she has shown herself to be bad at keeping secrets (like the aforementioned scene in “Feast”, posting a picture of her and Cat Noir kissing on the Ladyblog without her consent, and invading her privacy in this very episode, demanding to know her secrets), Marinette suddenly decides to give Alya a chance. Even worse, she had just said that she wasn't going to force her to tell her anything, which seemed like a strong character moment for her, but then the writers go back on the lesson and have Marinette do what Alya was trying to do the whole episode and tell her she's Ladybug.

Sure, Ladybug told Alya she was the Guardian and to keep it a secret earlier, but this lesson in keeping secrets should have stuck when she first became Rena Rouge in Season 2. I don't have a problem with Alya being Marinette's confidant (lord knows she needs one at this point), but I just don't think Alya is ready for this. It's the same thing with what happened with Adrien in “Syren”, by saying him immaturely threatening to quit being Cat Noir because of Ladybug's secrets was meant to show how he was ready to meet Master Fu even though it showed how selfish he was and was anything but ready. How is an episode where Alya tries to force Marinette into telling her everything she's keeping a secret meant to show she's ready to learn Ladybug's identity. Maybe if this episode kickstarted a character arc for Alya where she learned about why people keep secrets and that getting the truth isn't the right thing to do, culminating in a later episode where Alya learns Ladybug's identity, I'd be fine with that. As it is, this just had some poor timing and was the result of the writers not really thinking this through.

I guess I'm still interested to see where this goes, and how Marinette and Alya's friendship will change as a result of this. Maybe Alya can help Marinette get away to transform, or worry about her safety after an Akuma fight. Although the worst case scenario is that if Cat Noir finds out about this, he'll use it as an excuse to bitch and moan about how Ladybug is still keeping secrets from him and of course, she'll be blamed for whatever happens as a result of that.

Though I can't help but feel like I'm forgetting to mention something. Wasn't there someone else who wanted to know the truth about Marinette?

OH YEAH, I FORGOT ABOUT HIM JUST LIKE THE WRITERS DID.

This is what really kills the episode for me, just how it goes back on everything established in “Truth”. The whole reason Marinette broke up with Luka in the first place (which motivated the conflict of this episode) was because she realized keeping secrets from him wouldn't lead to a healthy relationship. As much as it pained her, it was a necessary evil Marinette had to do in order to protect her identity.

But now you're telling me that it's okay for Marinette to tell Alya her secret? WHY? How is this any different from what happened with Luka? Like Alya, Luka also wanted to known the truth, but the only difference was the way he confronted Marinette. He calmly asked her about what she was hiding, and even though she couldn't tell him, he respected her boundaries, and they both managed to end things on good terms.

Alya, who has a history of exposing secrets to the public, who barged into Marinette's room and demanded she tell her all of her secrets, is more trustworthy than Luka? This is why I don't buy the writers making Alya Marinette's confidant. I get that they want to give her some more story presence after how she had mostly faded into the background in Season 3, but this just isn't the way to do it.

Barring that, what did I think of the episode?

Yeah, it's just... it's just okay at best, mediocre at worst. There were a handful of decent moments in the episode, and some creative action scenes. Even stuff like Cat Noir's forced movie date and Alya violating Marinette's privacy isn't anything new, and unlike other episodes, the latter actually seems to apologize for that. The problem, as I already stated, was the ending. I think maybe the ending could have worked if Alya had found out Marinette's identity, but decided to keep it a secret. That way, it would make for an interesting dynamic, with Alya learning to be more responsible while secretly helping come up with ways for Marinette to get away to transform.

But as it stands, the episode is alright, but mostly forgettable if not for the ridiculous ending.

[treason-and-plot]

REPLIES TO SPENCER THE STONEWALLER

@parystrange

I wonder if he's just worried about whether he will be a competent father or not. Or if he'll be able to protect his little family. Having a baby in their line of "work" can possibly make one feel vulnerable. Or maybe I'm just giving him too much credit.

I think it’s very likely that he is worried about that, at least on a subconscious level. On a conscious level he was of course deeply affected by the break up of his parents’ marriage, which was blamed on his mother’s affairs, and the subsequent death of his sister Peyton from a drug overdose. These two events and his inability to control them taught Spencer that he needed to strong-arm his way through life. But of course using that approach to raise a child would be a recipe for disaster, and he knows that too. I think you’re right, it all boils down to him being terrified of being unable to protect his children, just as he was unable to protect his sister.

@parystrange

Also, I find it somewhat hypocritical that he's worried about the world being a horrible place and people being cruel and ugly considering what he does, contributing to that ideal.

Lol, yes, this is the delightful paradox that is Spence! Spencer sees himself as something of a vigilante, though! He definitely doesn’t regard himself as contributing to the world’s ugliness. He thinks his brand of justice helps to make the world a slightly better place. ;=)

@streetlightaurora

That's tough for both of them. Spence has been very forward about not wanting kids and Julia wanted them. Neither side was going to be happy regardless the outcome. But the baby is here and Julia will have to choose soon if Spence doesn't change.

@sweetnovember77​

Spencer sounds like my old Biology professor. His lectures were often on the intersection of climate change, and the choice to bring children into an uncertain future doesn't feel like much of choice.

Yeah, when we hear about people not wanting kids it’s often in the context of climate crisis. Spence would of course be worried about this, but his thinking is more along the lines of the traditional antinatalists who believe life is so replete with suffering, and humans are so cruel and stupid, that to have children is completely unethical because it’s subjecting them to a life of misery.

@gaiahypothesims​

Oh no, poor Julia. That would be awful feeling that way. Spencer should never have made that “deal” and followed through with it though. And for him to make that choice and then be a dick about it is… infuriating. There is a baby, and if he can’t “deal” he should back out now. Poor Julia.

It is infuriating but I can understand his thought processes and why he made that deal...and why Julia was perhaps foolishly optimistic, too! But if anyone has to strength and resilience to do this on her own it’s Julia.  

@windermeresimblr​

He agreed to have the baby. He's an adult of sound mind, presumably. He can fake interest long enough to sit and listen to poor Julia. If he didn't want a child, or want to deal with the realities of having one on the way, he should have said so and maybe even been an adult and left! instead of making the whole world miserable around him.

I love how you said ‘presumably’, lolol! Yes, indeed. Maybe he himself thought that he could warm to the idea? But nah, Spence has always had a tendency to see things in black and white. The world is bad, having kids is bad. He’s kidding himself if he thought some paternal instinct would kick in once Julia became pregnant.

@sweetnovember77​

I get so frustrated with a lot of simple minded women and bitch made ass men. When folks decide to remain childless, it seems they're open to criticism from everyone from internet trolls to the Pope himself. Some folks have no-room-for-negotiation, period! More people need to have a better ability to know themselves and who the fuck they are fucking!! TF?!

@muses-circle​

I agree with Mia. Spencer's an adult. He made a choice to have this baby, and now he needs to accept the consequences. It doesn't matter at this point that he didn't want kids - if he'd stuck to his guns and said NO, that'd be one thing. Julia knew Spencer didn't want kids, but, what, she thought he'd change his mind once they got pregnant? That's not how this works. (I'm coming from a place of "hubby and I aren't having children, ever" so I'm biased.) Julia made a choice. Spencer made a choice. They've gotten themselves into this, so either they're going to grow up, face reality, and be a family....or not.

@muses-circle​

Also, I kinda want to slap Julia for thinking getting pregnant would miraculously fix everything. It doesn't.

Otherwise intelligent and mature people often do think that people will change their mind once conception takes place though...Mia’s mother was guilty of that too! And maybe Spence even thought that himself. I fully agree though that he should have stuck to his guns, but he was in a high-pressured and very emotional situation when he decided to have a baby.  But yeah...you are right, they have both made a choice, and they have to face the reality of that choice. And Julia is doing a lot better at that at the moment than Spencer!

@pixelcurious​

It's a really human motive though. That's what I love about treason's story, the people in it are all so human.

Awww thank you, Beautiful! These are things I love exploring too, why people behave the way they do, their (often flawed) thinking and mindsets and biases, and the motives and reasoning behind their choices. It never stops fascinating me!  

@whyhellosims​

It's such a fundamentally flawed mindset, and it's so sad to bring an entire human being into the world on misplaced hope. That's not fair at all, especially to the child! Here's hoping he's just being pissy for now and once baby is born, he'll come around, but I'm at risk of thinking like Julia now.

At least we know Julia has the strength and resilience to cope on her own, and has come to terms with the reality of the situation. Most people seem to feel sorry for Julia, but I also feel sorry for Spence, and particularly for the circumstances that made him view life in such a sad way. 

@wannabecatwriter​

I would really love to give Spence a piece of my mind now.

@rillensora​

I don’t know, children have a way of bringing out complex emotions in everyone, most of all their parents, and emotions can be scary (especially to people like Spencer). Having second thoughts and doubts is no sign of immaturity. Stonewalling your partner is, though.

VERY scary! He loves Julia though and I think the reason he is stonewalling her is that he does not want to articulate the fact that he is regretting his decision...nor does he want to lie. She needs to hear the truth from him though. Man the eff up, Spence! Real men admit they’re wrong!

@ktarsims​

When you make a deal with the universe… and the universe calls your bluff…. 😈 It’s kind of amusing from that standpoint. I can see where it’s causing them both difficulty right now, but… I suspect that given Spence’s character, he won’t be able to maintain that gruff act once the child is born. Julia may have to be strong enough to make it through the pregnancy and such without him though.

LOL! Never second-guess the universe! It’s interesting that you think Spencer’s gruffness will fall away once he sees his baby...Spencer has never been able to  acknowledge the grey areas in life or in himself, and you never know, if he lets his walls down a baby just might allow him to see the world in a more complex and nuanced way! 

[trainsinanime]

Was Namaari gaslighting Raya?

In Raya and the Last Dragon, one hot take you’ll find quite a bit is about the part where (spoilers) Namaari says to Raya that they’re both responsible for Sisu’s (temporary) death. They’re saying that Namaari is “gaslighting” Raya here, and that she’s the one responsible because she’s the one that brought the crossbow to what was supposed to be a peaceful meeting. Is that true?

To discuss this, first of all, let’s set aside the fact that this is not what “gaslighting” means. Gaslighting is an abusive long-term project, not a single thing you say once. People way overuse that term on the internet. I’m sure there are people who say that scams like shell games or NFTs are gaslighting (they’re not). This scene, if anything, is just normal lying and/or blame shifting, but it seems to me that this is what we’re talking about anyway. I’m also going to ignore that Namaari clearly didn’t bring the crossbow to kill Sisu, but rather to (threaten to) shoot Raya, because that’s still not a nice thing to do.

Personally, I think that at the very least, Namaari is telling her truth here. She truly thinks that she and Raya are both responsible for what happened. She isn’t deceitful, she isn’t trying to manipulate Raya, she’s not even begging for her life, she’s just explaining her view. Of course that is only partially relevant; just because it’s not a lie doesn’t mean it’s the truth.

So that is the big question: Is Raya to blame here, at all? Even though it was Namaari who brought the crossbow, and pointed it? I think yes. To explain why, let’s look at the structure of the movie.

This movie is almost an ur-example of the structure described by screenwriter Craig Mazin in his “How to write a movie” talk (original audio version). The movie has a clear central dramatic argument: Cynicism and isolation versus optimism and trust. Raya and Namaari both have similar arcs where they start the main part of the story very cynical and isolated; Raya arguably more so.

Throughout the movie, Raya meets more and more characters and situations that discourage her cynicism and encourage her to be optimistic and trusting. She has moments of being trusting, and sometimes it pays off, sometimes less so. And as she meets more and more people who prove trustworthy after she gave them a chance, her cynicism slowly melts away.

Namaari’s arc is parallel and similar. She believes she lives in a doomed cat-eat-cat world, partly through her own actions, and everything she does to protect her own people is justified because there is no alternative. But then she sees her favorite dragon has returned, and she begins questioning everything she thought. She sees that there is hope after all. But just like Raya, this isn’t a one-and-done thing, especially since her mother encourages her to stay cynical.

When they meet outside the Fang city, after Raya’s letter, we find both of them at the midpoint of their arc. Both know their old, cynical mode of being doesn’t work anymore, and they both want to get rid of it. Both would outright say “I guess trust is a good thing”. But neither of them is yet ready to actually believe it.

Yes, Namaari brings her crossbow, but she’s not taunting Raya; she’s apologizing. This time, she knows she’s doing something wrong, but she can’t bring herself to do the right thing yet either.

Meanwhile, this is Raya’s big chance to show that she’s learned the movie’s lesson. It shouldn’t be a surprise to her that Namaari brought the crossbow. Your ex enemy doesn’t immediately become a friend just because you wrote a letter, and that wasn’t the point of the letter. The point is this, here: It is Raya’s chance to convince Namaari to do the right thing. And that was always going to require Raya placing a certain amount of blind faith in Namaari. Raya needs to tolerate Namaari’s aggression long enough to convince her. The movie makes it clear that she has an actual chance of making it work.

But Raya can’t bring herself to trust Namaari long enough. She knows she should, but she hasn’t internalized this yet. And so she gets aggressive and escalates a situation that she always knew was going to be tense.

For both of them, this moment is the test: Have they learned the lesson of the movie yet? Both of them fail miserably. And wow, do they get punished for it.

What follows is the low point of the movie, where both of their world views are shattered completely. Their old cynicism is gone, their new hope and trust is destroyed, and now all that’s left is depression and blind rage. The movie helpfully points this out by giving us some extreme backlighting, making the entire fight between the two almost monochrome. The characters have basically lost all color and nuance, and are now just shadowy silhouettes, because that’s what their emotional state is right now. Yes, the folks at Disney do know what they’re doing.

Namaari is the one to say this out loud. That’s why she doesn’t care if Raya kills her. And Raya realizes the same. That’s why she doesn’t kill Namaari; not because she cares, but because she doesn’t anymore.

Then some time later we get a do-over: The same situation again; the stakes even higher, success even less certain. And this time, Raya has realized her mistake; now she has full faith in the theme of the movie. This time she is open to Namaari, she is patient with her, and instead of being aggressive or guarded, she isn’t showing any resistance to anything anymore. And when she turns to stone, she is smiling. Because now Raya knows that even if it doesn’t work, she’s still doing the right thing, and that matters the most.

It takes Namaari a few moments more to get there herself. She even briefly considers leaving, through the small but unstable way out that exists for her. But she can’t; not because the way out falls, but because she hesitates too long. Raya’s faith in the theme of the movie worked, and she did convince Namaari, even if Namaari hasn’t yet realized it herself. Finally, of course, she does realize that Raya has already won her over, and she does the right thing after all. And when she turns to stone, she’s kind of okay with it as well.

And of course we get literally the same moment we had in Finding Nemo or, even more literally, Frozen, where it seems like it didn’t work, and the faith in the theme of the movie was misplaced. Plus, in this case, we get to appreciate some incredibly beautiful subsurface scattering on the stone statues (meaning the way the light partially filters through the edges). Seriously, the graphics in this movie are amazing. You’re doing yourself no favors by being too jaded to appreciate the finer pixels in life.

Of course, as Mr Mazin said, faith in the theme rewards, and everything turns out fine and it’s all peace, happiness and pancake, as we say here in Germany.

But the crucial part is that this high point of the movie works because we previously had the low point; because we previously saw it go wrong. Not just the world at large, but both main characters. It’s their third, final chance, when both have finally learned their lesson.

If you want to assign blame like a traffic accident, to decide which percentage gets paid by whose insurance, yeah, maybe Namaari gets more of it. But narratively, Sisu’s temporary death happens because both characters failed, and both need to fix it together.

[hufflepuffhollander]

5 times it didn’t, 1 time it did: tom holland imagine

a/n | this is my first submission for @hollandsrecs​ 1k bingo event! the prompt was “5 times, 1 time”, a concept you’ll soon understand! I really enjoyed writing this and got really in my Feelings™ listening to Mean it by Gracie Abrams (give it a listen). 

summary: Tom keeps missing his chance to make things right with you after rumors spread about an affair with one of his costars. 

tom x fem reader | contains angst for days, language, and resolution fluff | word count: 2.2k | enjoy!

“I can’t believe you.”

“What, what can’t you believe?”

“You told me you’d never let the tabloids come in between our relationship.”

“As far as I’m concerned, they haven’t. You’re still sitting here, aren’t you?”

“In our apartment? Seriously?”

“What do you want from me?”

“To call your publicist or your manager or whoever the hell will be able to shut all this shit down.”

“It’s the internet, y/n. You can’t ‘shut it down’. What’s out there is out there.”

“Why are you being so apathetic about this?”

“Why is it such a big deal?”

“Half the country thinks you’re dating your costar and that I’m a desperate sidepiece.”

“You know you’re not.”

“But they don’t.”

“So?”

“Is it so hard to come out and say that it’s not true?”

“People will think what they want regardless of what I say.”

“You know what, fuck this.”

You got off the couch, throwing your hands up in defeat.

“I don’t know why I have to try so hard to convince you to make this relationship a priority.”

Tom sighed heavily, starting to get off the couch and follow you out of the room, but receded and stayed planted. He wanted to say something that would make you turn around and come back, something to figure it out. To tell you that you were a priority, really his first one. But he didn’t know how to say that, and he stayed silent.

He could’ve apologized, and he didn’t. This was the first time you’d ever walked out of an argument without resolving the problem and ending it with a hug and mutual I-love-you’s. It took all of your gathered strength to keep facing forward and walk further and further away from him, instead of running back, folding into his arms and seeking out the comfort that was his body heat. It epically sucked that he had the power to make you both the angriest and happiest you ever knew how to feel.

You and Tom went to sleep that night silently, staying a hundred feet apart in your queen sized bed, backs turned towards each other. You hated feeling the draft between your loose shirt and bare back — he hated not being able to fall asleep inhaling your shampoo with his head against the back of yours. You stayed awake listening to the silence, hoping he’d speak. Hoping he’d say he was sorry, that he’d fix it. But all he did was yawn, or sigh, or stretch out and pull his hand back like it had been burned when he accidentally grazed your arm. You were both miserable, but he still didn’t apologize, second opportunity to fix things passing by as soon as it had come.

The next morning, you woke up later than you meant to and couldn’t avoid Tom waking up next to you, making inevitable eye contact as you’d naturally shuffled closer together in your sleep, like your bodies were ready for a closure your minds weren’t ready to come to.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

Your phone buzzed and you made the mistake of checking it. More and more notifications poured in from friends asking if you and Tom were still together, “who this costar bitch thought she was”, seeing how you were handling it. You realized still nothing had been done about it, and the same nasty feelings from the day before resurfaced anew. Tom saw your face drop and rolled onto his back, pretending to be interested in the ceiling.

“Plans today?” he asked.

“Just doing damage control and convincing infinite circles of friends that I’m not suddenly single and in a downward spiral behind closed doors,” you responded, sounding harsher than you meant to.

He put his hands over his face.  “If they really were your friends they wouldn’t have to ask,” he said bluntly. Your belly filled with a dull fire.

“Is that really the angle you’re gonna take right now?” you said, trying to ignore the tears preemptively pinpricking the corners of your eyes. Tom realized he had played the asshole card when he turned to see your face painted with hurt, and again, tried to spit out the words that he was sorry. But he didn’t, and his third chance flew out the open window. You shivered at the draft, and Tom went to instinctively wrap his arms around you, but stopped himself when you looked at him puzzled, as he couldn’t handle doing really anything when he saw how gray your eyes looked.

“y/n, I think this has gotten-“

“Save it,” you said, swiftly getting out of bed. You didn’t care to be insulted another time before 9 am, or feel your attachment to the love of your life sever a little more before you’d even brewed your coffee. You threw on the first thing you found, tied your hair up, grabbed your bag and then your keys.

“I’ll see you before the interview later.”

Truthfully, Tom’s talk show interview tonight was hours and hours away, but you wanted to avoid another emotional hit from him as long as possible.

Tom felt his chest sink as he heard the lock click after you. Why couldn’t he just apologize? Was it that hard? Sure, he didn’t agree with you. The tabloids always blew any gossip they could create out of proportion, turning every friendly hug between friends into a lover’s affair. But addressing it to the public only ever just fanned the fire. He didn’t want to give in to the pressure, but could see how it was starting to break you.

You walked into your flat with barely enough time to get ready after a long, tiring day of thinking and overthinking, wanting nothing more than to come home and be with your best friend, to cry to him about your problems and let him kiss and cuddle the pain away. Never before had he actually been the problem, though. That was uncharted territory, and you were afraid to see him tonight and face either inevitable fighting or excruciating silence. You met at the car and got in wordlessly. Only once you’d pulled onto the highway did Tom decide to speak.

“I think we need to talk about what’s been going on, yeah?”

“I guess so.”

“I just want you to understand that my not saying anything publicly doesn’t mean I’m not denying the rumors being spread. Staying silent is taking a stand, in a way.”

“In a way,” you said quietly. You really didn’t want to ruin your makeup before the show and hoped staying soft would keep the emotional floodgates from breaking open.

“I’m trying not to add fuel to the fire, love,” he said, placing a hand on your thigh. You stared down at that hand you loved and didn’t respond.

“I feel like I have no dignity left.”

He exhaled and frowned.

“Do you know what people are saying about me?” you squeaked without meaning to.

“I’ve told you to stop reading all those articles.”

“Right, because that’s the problem.” You rolled your eyes and moved your leg away from under his hand. He awkwardly placed it on the gear shift and didn’t dare to look at you for fear of breaking down himself.

“I just wish you’d stand up for me.”

“I’m doing it in my own way,” he trailed off. But that wasn’t good enough for you.

“And you can’t see that maybe that’s not enough?”

“I-“ He was about to say sorry — you could’ve sworn you hear the first syllable. But a car in front changed lanes and cut him off.

“Fucker.” 

After that wise remark, silence. Fourth chance to apologize up in smoke. You looked out the window and said nothing until you pulled up to the studio entrance. You saw lines of flashing bulbs of cameras, news trucks and reporters. Why did everything have to be such a thing? Tom cleared his throat and turned to you.

“y/n, love, go ahead and get out here and I’ll meet you inside.”

You looked back at Tom blankly.

“We’re not going in together?”

“I don’t want to subject us to all the paps out there,” he said, refusing to make eye contact. “If you go alone, my security team can cover you. They can’t cover us both.”

Your whole body felt cold. “Are...are you serious?”

It looked like telling you to face the crowd without him was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do. So why was he doing it?

“I’ll meet you inside-“

You cut him off by loudly undoing your seatbelt and putting your heels on, shooting daggers at him the whole time.

“I should’ve stayed home.” You opened the car door and got out.

“y/n, I’m-” You slammed the door shut before you could hear the rest of his words. Five chances he had to make it right, five times he absolutely blew it. You weren’t sure this was something you even wanted anymore. How could you clearly mean so little to him when he was your everything?

~

“...and give it up for Tom Holland!” the audience cheered wildly at the sight of your boyfriend walking out on stage, shaking the host’s hand and waving with a bright-eyed and cheery smile at the crowd. You’d chosen a smart seat in the back so as to hide from anyone who might recognize you — you were not in the mood to socialize, and frankly, if Tom didn’t currently have the only set of car keys, you would’ve driven yourself home. You could see him scanning the audience until his eyes landed on you, and you stared at him with an expression completely unfeeling, blinking slowly until he turned away. 

He continued to woo the host and the crowd with his heartfelt answers and funny anecdotes, but even you were immune to his charm tonight. You felt detached, alone. You wondered how you’d spent so long with this boy who had no respect for you or how you felt.

“So, not to put you on the spot, but-”

“Uh oh,” Tom laughed, the audience along with him.

“No, no, bear with me,” the host chuckled. “I’m sure you’re no stranger to all the rumors going around about this relationship you’ve gotten into with your costar in the new Spiderman movie coming out next year, can you give us any inside scoop on that?”

Tom shuffled in his chair looking uneasy, running a hand through his already messy hair, a telltale sign that he was nervous. You hated how well you knew him.

“I mean, I don’t like to give into all the gossip,” he said, trying to play it off. “But if you want to talk about the movie-”

“We will, we will! But you know what we all really care about...” the host laughed, pushing Tom to keep talking.

“Look, we’ve all grown close on set, like a little family. And I can’t believe I even have to say this, but no, I’m not an item with any one of my costars, or fellow actors, or anyone famous for that matter,” his face started to splotch pink, and you sat up in your seat. What was he doing?

“Well sorry to pry-” the host started, but Tom kept talking, now faster, lips not able to keep up with his brain.

“The amount of stress all the rumors have put on me and the people I care about is insane and unfair, and nobody has taken it harder than my actual girlfriend, who is right there in the audience,” he said, and you cursed him for causing a hundred chairs to squeak as heads swiveled towards you. “It all has her constantly feeling hated and unimportant and questioning our relationship, which I can’t stand, because I love her more than anything, I do, and I hate to see her so upset when there’s just nothing I can do about people gossiping.” You hear scattered “aww”s come from around you.

“I’ve been quiet for too long about it, which I thought was the right thing to do. But I was wrong. She deserves to hear me tell the world that I am with her, and only her, and that’s not changing,” he says, finally taking a breath. Tom looks at you, eyes watery, and sighs, as the audience coos and applauds. He mouths a clear “I’m sorry” that only you see, and you feel that cold draft start to melt, letting yourself give him a small smile in return. He finishes the interview and you meet him backstage at the end.

When he sees you walking towards him, Tom picks up speed and pulls you into a hug immediately, both arms underneath yours, almost picking you up off the ground. You hate to admit it, but it feels so good to be back where you rightfully belong. You lean into his body and hug him back. He kisses your cheek and rests his face against yours. “You know how much I love you, right?”

“I know. You finally apologized.”

“I know.”

“Took you long enough.”

He pulled back and smiled at you, leaning in and kissing you softly. He cupped your face with both of his hands and wiped away a small tear that was harbored between your eyelashes.

“I’ll go on a million more talk shows and do it again if it means you’ll forgive me.”

“That’s a start,” you both giggle and he kisses you again. “Can we go home?”

“Of course, love.”

[charlietheepicwriter7]

When the Chips are Down

Chapter 12 - AO3

Marinette had long since accepted that, to prevent akumatization, she needed surefire ways to calm herself down. The risk of Hawkmoth’s victory was too high if she allowed herself to get too panicky, or too angry, or too scared—

But the average person couldn’t keep their cool all the time. It wasn’t feasible. And, Ladybug or not, Marinette was still an average girl.

The best method she found was the one-minute rule. All she had to do was allow herself to experience the full emotion for a minute, doing whatever came to mind to express the emotion—panicking, yelling, throwing her bag across the room—before wrapping the feeling up tight and forcing herself to relax.

So she only gave herself a minute to deal with Adrien Agreste. Fortunately, a minute was all she needed… and all he could handle.

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

Adrien flinched at her scorching tone, stepping back as she stepped forward to deal with him. “Marinette—”

“First of all, you don’t get to decide if someone has made Ladybug and Chat Noir’s lives harder. Last I checked, you are neither of them! Ladybug and Chat Noir have never complained about civilians, either the akumatized or anyone else; the only person they have on record complained about is Hawkmoth, which they have a solid right to do so.”

“W-Wait, Mari—”

“Secondly, it is never a civilian’s fault that someone got akumatized!” She jabbed a finger in Adrien’s face. She could feel Felix’s shock. “The only person at fault is Hawkmoth, so don’t you ever blame Felix for something that man caused!

“Third, even if people could be blamed for causing an akuma, there are far worse people you could put your blame on. Like, for example, Chloe, your childhood friend who has been involved with nearly all of our classmates akumatizations, and even some of their relatives.” Her grin was sharp. “So, it’s a good thing we don’t blame people for getting others akumatized, right Adrien?”

“Marinette, that’s not—”

“And finally—” She breathed deep and exhaled loudly, forcing out the rage along with it. “I am sick and tired of whatever this—” She gestured between the two boys—“is. You’re cousins, and sure, you don’t get along, I can understand that. I don’t like my cousins that much ether. But this? Your constant snipping, the regular assassination of Felix’s character…” She sighed and blinked away unshed tears. “It’s too much.”

“I haven’t been snipping at him!”

“It’s true, you don���t do it nearly as often as he does.” She glanced at Felix, who tried to look innocent. “And I tell him off for it. But you’re the one who said that if Felix lost something, it means he doesn’t care about it. You’re the one who said he makes Ladybug’s job harder. You start things, Adrien.”

“I don’t!” Adrien denied. “B-Besides, even if I did, you don’t know what he’s like when we’re alone. He’s cruel, Marinette.”

“Are you sure about that?” She challenged. “Because Adrien, Felix has been a lot better about his behavior recently. You haven’t seen it because you don’t bother spending time with him, but there’s no need to constantly defame him.”

“But he caused that akuma on the anniversary—”

“And that was a really mean thing to do, I understand that, Adrien.” She glared. “But whatever happened to the high road?”

He stepped back.

“Because based on your actions, either you think your own cousin isn’t worth the high road approach, or you never thought very highly of it to begin with.” She crossed her arms. “So which is it?”

He shot her a frustrated look. “Marinette, this isn’t about Felix. This is about you two conspiring to humiliate Lila!”

“Would you prefer she humiliate us instead?” Felix asked, mirroring her pose. He nodded at her. “Because that’s what Rossi tries to do. She makes up her little lies, she gets the class worked up into a frenzy, and points them at us. She wants your ‘good friend’ to be miserable, Adrien.”

“She just… wants friends. Hurting her isn’t going to change anything.”

“But coddling her is only going to make things worse.”

“She’s not hurting anyone.”

She shot Adrien a glare. “You can say that when you’re the one who’s losing their friends because of Lila. But I don’t want to hear a word from you until that happens.”

“Marinette, it’s just a misunderstanding!” Adrien said. “Look, Alya has been really worried about you since you started hanging out with Felix—”

“If Alya is worried, she can say it to me herself. Neither of us need you to interfere on our behalf.” If Alya had something to say, she could say it to Marinette’s face instead of ghosting her for the past month. Marinette hadn’t hear anything from her best friend, not even a request to help babysit or an order from the bakery.

“Marinette—” Adrien reached out to touch her, but she stepped away.

“I’m going home. Don’t you have to go home too?” Adrien winced and Marinette tried not to feel terrible about it. She turned away. “Bye, Adrien.”

“Marinette, wait—”

She left, Felix following her out of the school. Adrien tried to go with them, but his bodyguard caught him the moment he stepped out of school and took him back to Agreste mansion. Marinette caught Felix smirking as they watched Adrien drive away. A horrible, unrelenting ache opened up in her chest. “Well, I think you handled that quite well—”

“Felix? No offence, but I don’t really want to hear it right now.”

“Marinette?”

“I know you said something about celebrating before, but I’m not feeling good. I… Can you leave me alone? Just for a little bit?” Dark clouds swirled overhead, the threat of rain looming as Marinette casted her eyes to the heaven, then back down at Felix.

His expression was unreadable, but he nodded. “Very well. Would you like me to inform the school you’re sick? So you can stay home longer.”

“That’s really nice of you, Felix. Thank you.”

“Think nothing of it, Marinette.” He smiled, a rare treat on a face used to smirks. “I hope you feel better soon.”

“Yeah… I hope so too.”

Marinette went home, bypassing her parents, to her bedroom filled with reminders of Adrien. His photos were pasted to her walls, his schedule hanging from her ceiling, his presents in her chest. A single tear streaked down her cheek as another shard of heartbreak pierced her heart.

She felt a little hand on her arm. “Marinette?”

A sob caught in her throat as she savagely beat the emotion down. “Tikki—” Her voice the barest whisper—“I don’t want to live like this anymore.”

Because Adrien, the one she loved, was… against her. It was the only way she could describe it. He had looked at her side and looked at Lila’s and chosen to support a liar, but he thought she was the one in the wrong for… what? Fighting back? Having Felix on her side? She absently wondered if he would support her if she abandoned Felix, since he hates Felix so much, and cringed at the thought. Another example to add to the pile. How could she even consider abandoning a friend just to get Adrien to like her? Who does that?

Marinette does, apparently.

“I don’t like the person I am when I’m in love with Adrien,” she confessed, looking down at her kwami. “I don’t like how he becomes the center of my world. I don’t like how I compromise my morals to make him happy.” Because that’s why she tried to follow the high road: to make him happy. “I… I don’t want to love him anymore, Tikki.”

The kwami hugged her. “It’s okay. You don’t have to like anyone you don’t want to. You just need to let him go.”

The ache in her heart tripled. “How?” she gasped, crying more freely.

Tikki spent the rest of the afternoon guiding her. First, a meditation session to calm her down. Next, she and Tikki went through every present she planned to one day give Adrien, carefully unwrapped each one, and decided what to do with them. Marinette didn’t want them around the house—the memories of her intentions would still be there—so they planned to give them to a thrift store that weekend. She deleted her collage background on her computer. The schedule was then scrubbed clean, the sharpie coming off the laminated paper with hand sanitizer, and Marinette was forced to remember each and every thing she had done to get that information. She was almost crying again at the end, this time with shame.

Finally, the photos. She remembered the hours she’d spent pouring over magazines and the internet. Outside of the few group shots he was in, every picture she had of him was heavily photoshopped. She pulled them off the walls, one by one. This one has most of his smile, she thought, and this one didn’t change his face, but he looked so tired…

She didn’t know why she had these photos. It seemed rational at the time, but… a lot of things seemed rational when she was trying to make him like her. So she placed them in a prototype of her diary box and let Tikki hide it.

“Goodbye, Adrien.” The words were final, but seemed necessary. She couldn’t like him anymore, not if she wanted to stay alive.

The next morning, she woke up feeling like she’d been wrung out. For once she was on time, her mind too anxious to allow her to sleep long. She met Felix at the door to school.

“Are you feeling better?” he asked, leading her inside.

She hesitated. “…A bit. But I’ll get better soon. Tikki smiled encouragingly at her from inside her purse. “Did I miss anything?”

“Just another one of Rossi’s temper tantrums.” He rolled his eyes as they walked into the locker room. “Honestly, I have to wonder about her parents if that’s what she considers acceptable behavior. Anyway, I got your notes and—” His voice caught in his throat, cutting off with an inelegant croak as his eyes widened. Marinette followed his gaze and her mouth dropped open.

There was a small crowd surrounding her locker. Written on it in red spray paint was the word “Skank”. Marinette approached it, her mind disassociating and distant from what she was seeing, and opened it. Everything in it was coated in the same paint, ruining the few textbooks and decorations inside. She reached out and touched it. Stone dry.

“Someone get a teacher!” Felix’s furious voice broke her from her trance. He had never sounded angry before. His emerald eyes glinted as he glared at the crowd. “Which one of you did this!?” he demanded. “This is destruction of private property!” She could feel everyone staring at her. Did they think she deserved this? Did they pity her? Did they—

“M. Graham de Vanily, stop shouting.” Mme. Mendeleive was the teacher summoned. “Now, what exactly is going on here—” She stopped, seeing the damage done. Her lips thinned. “Marinette, are you okay?”

“I…” She tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. “I don’t…”

“I think she’s in shock, Mme. Mendeleive,” Felix said.

Mme. Mendeleive nodded, concern clear on her face. “Take her to the nurses office. I’ll figure out what happened here.”

Felix was trying to usher her out of room when something clattered to the ground. A can of red spray paint rolled across the floor and bumped into her foot. Marinette picked it up; it was the same shade as the paint on her locker.

Alya, who at just opened her locker only for the can to fall out, stared at it in dread. “Marinette—” her eyes searched Marinette’s— “Girl, you know I didn’t—”

“Alya…?” Did Alya… did she do it…? Tears flowed. Why would she… And Marinette remembered yesterday, remembered making Alya fail, and gritted her teeth. “Alya, how could you?”

She flinched back, betrayal on her face. “Girl, you know me! I would never—I have never seen that can before in my life!”

And now she was lying to her!? Marinette turned away. “Save it, Alya.” Her voice hitched with a sob. She didn’t want to hear anything Alya had to say. She handed the can to Mme. Mendeleive and ran. 

Taglist: @graduatedmelon @novicevoice @dur55 @kris-pines04 @18-fandoms-unite-08 @moonlightstar64 @bee-a-garbage-shipper @sol-o-shade @kittyotakunoir666 @tinyterror333 @allieoftheenemy @marichat00 @xgxmxtx @two-faced-biatch @feliciakainzofspades @evil-cricket @emilytopaz @spicybelladonna @chocolateherringtacofan @user00000003 @wannajointhecrabcult @happymonster-pants @duquesapincarrasca @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen

[goodlucktai]

the ship sways but the heart is steady

chapter one: the ship sways

the untamed pairing: jiang cheng & wei ying, lan zhan/wei ying word count: 2549 summary: Wei Ying’s friends are at rock-bottom, and Wei Ying puts his life on hold to help them put theirs back together. To absolutely no one’s surprise except Wei Ying’s, his family goes with him. read on ao3

x

During family dinner, Wei Ying’s phone rings, cutting mother off mid-sentence.

Jiang Cheng cringes inwardly and his brother’s face goes two shades paler. They have guests over, so mother doesn’t do more than glare hatefully in Wei Ying’s direction.

She won’t make a scene in front of Yanli’s husband, or even Wei Ying’s fiancé—Jin Zixuan is everything Yu Ziyuan wants in a match for her daughter, and Lan Zhan’s family is one of the richest on the East Coast.

Lan Zhan is also willing to give as good as he gets. His eyes are already narrowing in mother’s direction, the tentative ceasefire of family dinner wobbling precariously beneath their feet as he perceives the great and unforgivable offense of insult to Wei Ying. A-Li resolutely tries to pick the conversation back up from where it lulled, with all the steely resolve of someone throwing herself into the path of a rampaging bull. Jin Zixuan has graduated from grimacing into his wineglass to gazing hopefully at the clock every three minutes.

Always willing to fall on the grenade, Wei Ying ducks his head meekly.

“Sorry, I thought I silenced it,” he says, the shape of a laugh in his voice even if he can’t manage to drag it all the way out. He’s rummaging his cellphone out of his pocket, presumably to turn it off as a gesture of good faith. “I’ll just…”

But his eyes catch on the screen, and something happens to his expression that Jiang Cheng has never seen before.

Wei Ying stands up, so abruptly his chair sails back with an awful screech, and excuses himself. Lan Zhan follows him out of the dining room without a single word or a backwards glance. That’s all it takes for mother to pick up a scathing tirade against Jiang Cheng’s good-for-nothing, ungrateful, waste-of-space brother.

He joins Jin Zixuan in watching the clock. Worry swims in the back of his mind like a school of startled fish.

#

Wei Ying’s apartment is really actually Lan Zhan’s apartment, but the two of them have been inseparable since they were fourteen, and it naturally followed that where one of them would live, so would the other. The place is ridiculous, modern and minimalist, and it would look like something out of a magazine if not for Wei Ying’s inevitable clutter. But even the stacks of books and magazines, and haphazard easels, and little jars of paints and loose brushes everywhere manage to make the place seem charming and lived-in instead of the horrible disaster tornado it rightly should be.

Jiang Cheng asked him once what the monthly rent was but Wei Ying looked so haunted by the question that Jiang Cheng decided he didn’t actually want to know.

They’re all crammed into the conversation pit, recovering from family dinner in the usual fashion. Jin Zixuan is much more likable when his tie is loose and he’s nursing a lukewarm beer.

A-Li is clinging to Jiang Cheng’s hand so hard he’s beginning to lose circulation but he’d sooner agree to amputate than he would shake her off.

“You’re on speaker, A-Qing,” Wei Ying says with mock-severity. “Keep it PG for the children in the room, please.”

“So Jiang Cheng and Jin Zixuan are there?” Wen Qing asks rhetorically.

Jin Zixuan sighs but doesn’t rise to it. Jiang Cheng snaps, “Listen, assholes,” partly out of half-hearted irritation, and partly to hear Wen Qing sigh the way she does when she doesn’t want to reward someone with a real laugh.

“Yanli and Lan Zhan are here, too,” Wei Ying says cheerfully. His tone doesn’t match how worried his eyes are. “This is a family-only meeting. So tell us what those texts were about.”

Jiang Cheng realizes right away why Wei Ying bailed on dinner.

There was an apartment fire. The Wens lost everything. Wen Ning is in the hospital with smoke inhalation and second-degree burns because he ran in to make sure their neighbors got out safely. All of their savings are wrapped up in putting Wen Qing through medical school. She’s adrift now in a way that Jiang Cheng has never been.

“There’s... we have an old house, somewhere out in the country. It was sold to my grandparents cheap, but they never got around to renovating it. It’s not even livable, just bare bones.”

A-Li starts crying the second Wen Qing does.

“It’s too much,” Wen Qing forces out. “I can’t do this on my own.”

Wei Ying, to his credit, actually does hesitate. A whole five seconds. And then he says, “I thought you were supposed to be my smart friend. Who said you were doing this on your own?”

He says it as easily as if it was an absolute given that he would turn his whole life around and upside down for her. All she had to do was call.

#

There is a minor disagreement between Jiang Cheng’s siblings.

“A-Li,” Wei Ying says, holding both of her hands in both of his own and looking deeply, imploringly, into her eyes. “You’re way too pregnant to fly.”

Her face crinkles alarmingly, eyes already red and puffy from recent tears. Jiang Cheng, Jin Zixuan and Lan Zhan tense in exactly the same way, at the same time.

“I won’t have you going all the way to California by yourself,” Yanli says in her most eldest-sibling tone of voice. “I won’t have it, A-Ying.”

“I am a grown-up,” Wei Ying points out gently, with all the wisdom of his twenty-four years. “I pay bills and have a job I hate and everything. And I won’t be by myself, I’ll have A-Qing and A-Ning.”

“And me, obviously,” Jiang Cheng grumbles. Wei Ying whips around to stare at him.

“Oh,” Yanli says, a blanket of relief rolling across her face. “Oh, of course.”

“You can’t,” Wei Ying hisses at him, looking more panicked now than he has all night. “Your mother—”

“Okay, first of all, don’t tell me what I can and can’t do,” Jiang Cheng bites back, prickly with worry for the Wens and worry for his idiot brother. “Secondly, you, going by yourself, is not an option. It’s off the table. It was never on the table. Stupid,” he adds, on principle.

Lan Zhan doesn’t contribute much to the conversation at this point but Jiang Cheng learned a long time ago that that doesn’t mean shit. Lan Zhan has more opinions than any three people combined, whether or not he chooses to voice them. There is no fucking way he doesn’t have thoughts about his fiance picking up and moving nearly three thousand miles away.

Maybe there’s some strange alternate timeline out there where he would be content to stay behind and let Wei Ying go off without him, but Jiang Cheng would bet his entire trust fund that that’s simply not happening here.

If ever there was a world where Wei Ying would be backed into a corner and forced to help the Wens alone, this world isn’t it.

#

There’s a minor disagreement between his siblings, and there’s a whole fucking nuclear fallout at home.

“I forbid it,” mother snaps. She’s livid, but she’s livid so much of the time that it started losing its edge a few years ago. “Absolutely not. I refuse to allow this family to lose face because you want to gallivant across the country for some charity case.”

Jiang Cheng sees it when Wei Ying’s posture changes. The dreamy raincloud gray of Wei Ying’s eyes hardens into heavy steel, and his spine stiffens, and his shoulders go back; the absolute opposite of his downcast self at dinner earlier. He’s willing to fight any impossible battle as long as it’s for someone else.

Jiang Cheng grew up looking up to him. He spent all of his formative years as Wei Ying’s little brother. That’s why he’s willing, too.

“The Wens aren’t a charity case,” he says. Not very loud, but he says it. It’s a lot more than he could have done when he was a kid.

“You don’t even know them! They’re just some random people on the Internet. They’re probably scamming you, and you’re both idiot enough to fall for it!”

That’s so untrue and unfair that Jiang Cheng doesn’t know how to argue for a moment. They’ve never met the Wens in person, but Wei Ying has been friends with them since he was ten. They mail each other presents for Christmas and birthdays. Jiang Cheng distinctly remembers calling Wen Qing for help with biochem homework, multiple times. Wen Ning always Skyped with Yanli when he was stuck on a recipe, the two of them cooking together from three time zones apart. They’re all tangled up in each other’s lives, comfortably, irrevocably.

Of course we know them, Jiang Cheng thinks, bewildered.

Out loud, he says, “They’re not scamming us. And we already told them we’re coming.”

Mother screeches and storms around the house and throws things, but she hasn’t actually hit either of them since they grew taller than her. She hasn’t been a source of real fear since Jiang Cheng started looking down at her instead of looking up. It’s mostly just miserable to be around her now.

He remembers that fear, though. It sticks to his body like a half-healed scar. It reminds him to flinch.

#

It’s early enough in the morning that it might as well still be nighttime when Jiang Cheng and his suitcases finally show up at Wei Ying’s building. He leaves his luggage in the lobby under the watchful gaze of the concierge and takes the private elevator up, keying in the code to his brother’s apartment.

The doors roll open to the living room. Lan Zhan is holding a tiny animal carrier in his hands, gazing at Wei Ying in an extremely gross and smitten way while Wei Ying discusses the upcoming trip with their pets. Pidan and Bao are not being particularly attentive, snuffling at his chin and chewing on a piece of his hair respectively.

“Diedie has decided to be stubborn and not listen to good sense,” Wei Ying is telling the rabbits seriously, “so you’re coming with me and ruining your life instead of being safe and comfortable here at home.”

“Baba is being dramatic,” Lan Zhan informs them in turn. “And also foolish, if he doesn’t realize that our home is wherever he goes.”

“This is the weirdest domestic scene I’ve ever walked into,” Jiang Cheng says loudly, since apparently the telltale ding of the elevator wasn’t enough to announce his presence. He has to interrupt before they do something horrible, like make out in front of him. It’s a constant fucking risk with these two. “Are we leaving or what?”

So the rabbits go into their crate with a frankly absurd amount of fanfare and Jiang Cheng helps wrestle the luggage downstairs. By then, the shuttle that Lan Zhan ordered is waiting for them at the curb.

He knows it isn’t going to be a vacation. Wei Ying’s friends are at rock-bottom, and Wei Ying has essentially put his life on hold to help them put theirs back together. It’s going to be hard work. It’s probably going to be painful, and a little bit scary.

Jiang Cheng is only involved because he chose to be, but it never occurs to him to choose anything else.

If this is where his brother is going, it’s probably the right place to go. And if it’s not, if the whole thing turns out to be a horrible mistake and he regrets all of it, then at least he’ll be in good company.

#

Wen Ning is out of the hospital by the time their plane lands, and he’s waiting with Wen Qing at the airport. Wei Ying, who by all accounts should feel as foggy and queasy as Jiang Cheng definitely does, drops his bags and sprints across the terminal towards them.

Jiang Cheng and Lan Zhan follow at a more reasonable human pace, possibly in part to give the friends a few moments together. The busy airport traffic moves around them like a river flowing around a rock.

Wen Ning is sobbing, almost a full head taller than Wei Ying but buried against him like the little brother he is. Wen Qing is leaning quietly against the two of them with her eyes closed, as if filling her reserves and shoring up her strength.  

She’s the type of person who would be able to cow his mother with a single glance, Jiang Cheng thinks admiringly, and more efficiently than Lan Zhan ever could. She must have a spine built out of steel to be able to stand there without crumbling under the weight of what she’s lost.

And Wei Ying stands there holding them up, tireless and steady. He’s talking too quietly for Jiang Cheng to hear, saying something that makes Wen Ning nod against his shoulder. He’ll hold them up until the ground falls out from under his feet if he has to. Thankfully it’s more like three minutes.

Introductions aren’t necessary. They all just trade exhausted looks and move as a cohesive unit towards the doors.

Wen Ning starts to help with the bags, bandaged hands and all. Wen Qing and Jiang Cheng both snap at him before he can so much as touch a suitcase, and then he just waffles in place anxiously, like he doesn’t know how to person if he isn’t actively being helpful.

“Hold the kids,” Wei Ying says in the spirit of compromise, taking the pet crate from Lan Zhan and holding it out to Wen Ning instead.

Somehow, they shuffle everything out of the airport and into a rental car. Lan Zhan’s phone starts to blow up as soon as he turns airplane mode off, so he turns airplane mode back on and returns the phone to his pocket.

“My uncle has checked the credit card statement,” Lan Zhan says calmly. “My brother is handling it.”

“Poor Lan Huan,” Wei Ying murmurs.

“We have to call A-Li,” Jiang Cheng remembers with a jolt. He digs his own phone out. “She wanted us to call as soon as we landed.”

Everyone clusters in close for the FaceTime call with Yanli, who is tearful and hormonal and indignant about being left behind. Jiang Cheng begs her not to get into a fight with their mother over this. Yanli raises her chin and says, “We’ll see.”

It’s a very long drive to the estate. Wei Ying’s head sinks against Lan Zhan’s shoulder in an inevitable, unstoppable act of gravity. He falls asleep within minutes.

“You have to help me thank him,” Wen Qing says quietly, tapping anxious fingers against the steering wheel. “Help me figure out how to thank him.”

Jiang Cheng snorts, not unkindly. “What makes you think I know how?”

An entire childhood spent raising each other, protecting each other, annoying the shit out of each other, and there are still some things Jiang Cheng has no idea how to say to his brother in a way that he’ll understand. Like I’m sorry, and thank you.

Lan Zhan turns his head to the side, so that his cheek is pillowed against Wei Ying’s hair. Outside, the sprawling California countryside sprints past the windows, wild and golden under a relentless summer sun.