#nice and wreck felt wrong to use in this context

[cedarwrought]

He's messed up again.

Knows it, feels the tang of utter failure puncture him with certainty as he takes a bite of the take-out that'd been left on the counter. His lover- his real lover- leans against the wall not too far away, smile strained with a desperation that's become more and more frequent the past few months.

Excuses and pleads snake up the back up his throat, but he swallows.

What hasn't he said?

How many times has his partner, his friend waited on him like this? Alone, in this empty apartment- because what if they want him to do a floor tour, where would the furniture go- staring at that cursed screen, hoping for a text back- even though Miss Juan has begun confiscating his phone during work hours.

He approaches him first; it’s the least he can do. Tries to ignore the thoughts that buzz in his head about how he’s dirty, how he should shower before even thinking about touching another.

The ache in his chest tugs at him with a ferocity that nearly drowns those thoughts out.

Nearly.

When he raises a hand to the other man’s face, he trembles at how warm he is. Warm, despite how he’s surely cursing him for not prioritizing him- for not prioritizing them. For selling his smiles to the masses, none left for his love by the time he gets home.

Perhaps it is not his partner that is warm, but he that has gone cold.

A surge of hunger runs through his body like a livewire, and he nearly draws blood in his unfettered desire, biting and licking at his love’s mouth as if it’ll make up for the cloth separating them both.

As if their act of worship will absolve him of the bitter taste rotting in his mouth.

[lazycats-stuff]

damian wayne x gn! mall goth reader who comes off a little intimidating because of their style n taste in music but end up being really sweet n the whole batfam ends up adoring reader

if not thats a okay!! sorry that i kinda didnt go into much description…

Okay, I have no idea what mall goth even is so to google it is. And don't worry with the lack of description I can conjure something up. And this GIF was the only one that was nice.

Summary: (Y/N) has a peculiar style and that puts the rest of the fam off. But soon they love him more than Damian.

Warnings: some goth stereotypes, mentions of self harm, but no one is doing it, it's in the context of stereotypes,

" Beloved, you don't have to meet them if you don't want to. We can cancel, " Damian said, worried about his partner. Why? Well, (Y/N) has a peculiar style known as Mall Goth and Damian found it really interesting, but people often think that goths are affiliated with Satanism or that they... Harm themselves to put it mildly. Or that they use drugs.

That they can't be happy, that they are all just cold and collected. (Y/N) once told Damian about someone asking if they are a vampire. While Damian wanted to laugh at that, but at the same time it was beyond stupid. Vampires aren't real, first and foremost. Secondly, why would someone say that? Like why?

Damian knew (Y/N) and (Y/N) is a happy person. Positive. Not affiliated with Satanism or Satan. They don't harm themselves or use any drugs. And no, they aren't a vampire. (Y/N) is a normal person who simply loves to express themselves via gothic style. Is that wrong? Absolutely not.

Does that mean that people can make fun of them? Absolutely not.

Damian wouldn't stand for that. He never did.

Because (Y/N) is an adorable soul, a gentle one at that and Damian loved that about them. Damian would often say that they were adorable and it was something that never failed to make (Y/N) blush. So of course, Damian weaponized that to make sure his beloved feels loved. And safe to say, he loves to see (Y/N) flustered. And (Y/N) tried fighting it, but Damian was charming when he needed to be.

And more often than not, Damian followed (Y/N) to the Hot Topic or Spencer's. Damian was always interested in his interests and often curious about those stores, since he was never in those stores... Safe to say, nothing can surprise him. Even though he was raised in the League of Assassins and nothing should surprise him. But Spencer's and Hot Topic did.

But everything for his beloved. And more often than not, Damian acted like a security guard for (Y/N), making sure that no one tried anything. (Y/N) deserves to express themselves in the manner that they want to and not being picked on. Bring goth isn't illegal. It's a subculture. A nice one at that.

Because many of them are nice people. And not Satanists.

The meeting of Damian's family came soon enough and he was nervous. His family wouldn't hate his partner, but (Y/N)'s style might put them all off. Bruce would always want his kids to be happy in their relationships. And if (Y/N) seems cold, Bruce might not like them. And since (Y/N) isn't cold and Damian knows it...

Safe to say, he's never been so nervous in his life. And' he's been trained by his infamous grandfather.

He didn't want (Y/N) to get rid from their gothic style and be something that they aren't and pretend to be something conventional. And besides, it's better for Bruce to know right away. It's better to be genuine and honest, especially in front of Batman. Although (Y/N) doesn't know about his... Night job. Safe to say, it's going to be nerve wrecking.

And Damian has never felt so nervous in his life. He picked (Y/N) up and drove him to the manor, nervous beyond belief. He shouldn't be nervous. He never felt so nervous anyway. Why is he feeling so damn nervous? Is this what fear feels like? Anxiety even? (Y/N) took Damian's into theirs and squeezed. They were parked in the car in front of the manor, trying to gather up the courage to get going.

" I don't know why, but I'm nervous beyond belief, " Damian confessed and (Y/N) nodded, feeling the same.

" I'm scared beyond belief. I don't want them to not like me because of the way I dress, " (Y/N) gave their own confession and Damian sighed, rubbing his forehead with his free hand.

" I've never felt so nervous in my life. Probably the only time I felt so was when I confessed my feelings to you. "

(Y/N) chuckled and nodded, remembering how Damian was nervous beyond belief when he has confessed. Damian huffed when he heard the huff.

" It's not funny. It was embarrassing to be so nervous when confessing. "

" But it showed you had feelings. And it meant that you have some really hard feelings for me. Which is nice. But... The more we worry, the worse it'll go. " (Y/N) turned their head to look at Damian who nodded.

" I agree beloved. But just be yourself. Don't try to be something you are not. Be yourself. They'll love you for it. " Damian leaned closer to his partner and kissed their cheek. (Y/N) smiled at that, squeezing back Damian's hand tightly.

" Are you ready beloved? "

" Ready as I'll ever be. " (Y/N) kissed Damian and Damian smiled into the kiss.

Both pulled back after a few seconds, still smiling. Damian cupped (Y/N)'s face, kissing their forehead.

" Now beloved, lets go. And I promise you, they'll love you. "

(Y/N) nodded and opened the car door, stepping out. Damian followed soon and walked next to (Y/N). (Y/N) rang the doorbell, waiting for someone to open up. And yes, Damian did warn them about (Y/N) being goth before this meeting.

Alfred opened the door, smiling at the two. " Ah, there is the person who captured your heart master Damian. I'm Alfred, nice to meet you. " Alfred extended his hand to (Y/N), who shook it with a tight grip.

" Nice to meet you, I'm (Y/N). "

" Please, come in you two, the rest are waiting in the dining room, already sitting since they are always hungry. " Alfred led them both to the dining room, where they were all sitting down at the table. They all turned to (Y/N) and Damian, eyes observing and analyzing (Y/N). Bruce stood up to shake hands with them and the rest followed.

(Y/N) smiled as hands were shook and soon they were all sitting down again.

" Damian, I didn't know you were into goths. " Jason lifted his cup of water, making Damian's eye twitch.

" Watch is Todd. "

" No violence at the table or threats of the violence, " Alfred and Bruce interjected at the same time and (Y/N) chuckled at that.

" So... How did you two meet? " Tim started, trying to ease the tension between his brothers.

" We met in a bookstore. I was looking for some mystery books, he gave recommendations and then later, went to get coffee. And then we exchanged numbers because we saw that we had good taste in books, " (Y/N) explained, giving them a short version.

" Oh yeah, he came home quite happy. We couldn't figure out why. " Dick poured himself some water and Damian glared at Dick. His brothers need to stop it.

" Really? " (Y/N) asked, turning to look at Damian, who seemingly decided to glare at Dick, rather than (Y/N).

" Yes, but we couldn't figure out why. And when he started going out more often, we thought he made a friend. We were close enough, " Dick added and (Y/N) smirked, Damian seemingly looked anywhere but at his partner.

" So (Y/N), " Bruce got into the conversation, " What do you do? Any hobbies? Interests? "

" I like to volunteer at the animal shelter, trying to not adopt anymore black cats. I already have two. Also working part time at my local bookstore to have some money during my college years, " Y/N) explained and Bruce nodded, impressed with it. He liked the sound of that.

A hardworking and loves animals? Damian's soulmate.

" Oh. And what do you study in college? " Bruce asked, curious about it.

" I study history. My dream would be to teach in a school one day. "

Bruce nodded. He himself liked history and to teach in a school? In this day and age? More than impressive.

" That is a noble thing. Especially in this day and age, and in Gotham as well, " Dick jumped in, Tim nodding in agreement.

" I would rather die than teach in a school. Absolutely not. Good luck, " Tim said and (Y/N) chuckled.

" I know, but I would really want that. I'm really interested in that. "

Bruce glanced and Damian, nodding at him subtly. He approved of (Y/N) so far and if (Y/N) and Damian ever tied the knot, Bruce would be the happy. (Y/N) saw Damian for him. Not the rich connections and doors that his last name can open, but for Damian.

The other brothers shared the same sentiment. (Y/N) is the one and only for Damian. And they are going to give Damian the if you hurt him talk.

[fictionfolk-safehaven]

CW: abuse, SA from a young age, depression, incest, intrusive thoughts. Long post, a bit of a doozy lol

Hi! we think this blog is rlly cool and it actually helped us a lot. like really thanks. We in general have a lot of intrustive thoughts but particularly ones about incest/minors hit us the worst, basically cuz our brain is just reminding us of trauma that actually happened to us. And it causes a lot of shame and self-hate, and even guilt. My name is Kaoru Hitachiin, from Ouran Highschool Host Club. Both my brother and I are in the system. In our source we are literally the "brotherly love duo" and in our system we are in a relationship. To give context.

We've existed since middle school, dormant I guess but showed up recently thanks to us seeing these posts and trying to understand people's perspectives better, because everyone deserves to feel understood. This caused us to reframe how we view incest on a more compassionate level. Like y'know it's not good, I'd perfer if people didn't have to go through whatever it was that made their brain develop that way but it's also not their fault. System wise, my brother and I would not have been able to exist prior to this understanding. Like, we literally would've crumbled with the inner shame and maybe even outside critic of other systems members, no matter how nice they all are. I know in their heart they'd be freaking out about it, and it'd make our intrusive thoughts worse.

It's not like it was easy for us either, Particularly Hikaru.

We got exomemories that aren't even from source. Memories of our uncle, SA, from 5 years old to Middle school. Often together. Everyone in the family knew, no one cared.

We thought we didn't need anyone else, no one else was to be trusted. He took care of me, I took care of him. We survived because each other. This was hard for me, I developed feelings for him since childhood, he only realized his feelings until a little bit after haruhi showed up in the show. and in real life this was something he knew but we had to work through immediately first day of hosting because of the stress is was giving us. Our "Brotherly love act" was supposed to just be that, and act. We thought it was funny and entertaining to make the girls swoon, we are performers after all. All the while my souls constantly being crushed like a garbage disposal, but I'm used to that by now, years and years of practice. And they made us like that in the show, so you really can't blame me for feeling these feelings , right?

Anyways, things are better now. We are happy, we've accepted that our happiness doesn't need to make sense for others, and that it's more valuable for us to do that than to desire for acceptance. Thanks guys for providing a space like this. Don't know if we would've showed up for a very long time without it.

I wrote a poem earlier, about this, and wanted to share in case anyone else resonated with it, as this is (my) first poem and I like it! It felt good to make, if ur reading this u should make a poem soon (that includes u, person scrolling) if u want

Old Memories Melt- Kaoru Hitachiin

But that was the past, and this is the now

In your arms I crave and your passions endowed

Your heart beats quicker than the rabbit I found

Dove into a rabbit hole so deep and profound

I've been falling since a child

Drank the potion and now it's time for cake

Growing up is hard

When they've wrecked up your mental state

Pillaged our safest space

That is, Each Other

Thoughts began to spiral in fear of being outnumbered

Or of you, finding another

Leaving me Alone In the wreckage of the past without a word of Our present

Each smile and wink you give *Is* a Present

Wrapped in barbed wire- but I must open

Pandora's box

I must feel these feelings

Although it's Paradox

To love your brother

Ties the deepest knot

In my gut and my heart

So tell me it's wrong

Go ahead! If it weren't for him-

I'd be dead..

-🌛💐🌀

We're a bit exhausted this week (/lighthearted) so I can't put it into words as well as I'd like, but tbh I'm not sure if I'd be able to anyway. I genuinely can't express how much it means to us that this blog helped anyone to the point of like... headmates leaving dormancy because they're allowed to exist safely???? that's just. Genuinely unfathomable to me. I'm so glad that there's less shame within your system, and we're so honored to have played any part in that from our little corner of the internet.

We also have intrusive thoughts, and know from experience that trying to shame yourselves less for those thoughts and such can be so difficult. So points to you all for handling that.

-Archivist Phil

[electricbluebutterflies]

Nina/Mattias + fight sex but they’re idly bickering about something that doesn’t matter very much

Canon-divergent / the little adventure up in frozen hell took long enough for this dynamic to develop (because what even is a timeline and I have no clue how long it actually was on the show). Also, for plot purposes and context, this does make use of my belief that everyone is just SLIGHTLY aged up on the show and in my head most of the main lineup is 20ish. Oh, and first time writing these babes so fingers crossed I got characterization okay. Obviously NSFWish ahead, a little more graphic than I’ve written in a while and also involves a First Time...

He’s keeping the third blanket from her.

It is, objectively, the most petty Nina has felt since the whole almost-dying thing happened, maybe even since the getting-captured bit. Trying to get under his skin, trying to handle the daily shifting of their dynamic, has been almost as exhausting as trying to stay alive. Which in itself is enough of a challenge, because somehow they are lost and whenever Nina gets back to civilization she is going to have so many comments about Druskelle navigational instincts or the apparent total lack thereof. So. Many. Comments. The moment she has a possibly appreciative audience, because she is not wasting her breath on that here right now and-

At least tonight they’re in some kind of fishing shack again, clear space to build a fire and a pile of blankets of various questionable quality. There have been nights they haven’t been so lucky. She’s saving her energy for where it matters. But on the other hand, she is a delicate fragile creature who has made a point of avoiding this sort of climate, and…

Mathias still has the third blanket, and the fire is going well enough that they objectively can stay on opposite sides of this space, and Nina decides it’s time to change the game.

He’s pretty, okay? He’s annoying and stubborn and honestly at this point him technically being The Enemy is relatively low on the list of reasons he’s stomping on her every last nerve, but the man has two things in his favor – he’s loyal, and he is very nice to look at. Nina does not historically have the attention span when it comes to that level of pretty, but this one has decided to make it difficult for her. Like, he can say up and down that he does not want her, but they’ve shared a sleep-space – “bed” is too nice a word for most of those situations – for a week or so and she doesn’t need words, she knows what she wakes up to.

And she knows how damn respectful he is, she thinks as she starts undoing her vest buttons. This outfit, while very cute two weeks ago before her entire life took a very undesired detour, was not made for seduction. But if she does it slow enough, she hopes she won’t set him off. The other time she had to deal with that element of things, he was polite and turned his back even though she didn’t ask him to, and she assumes the same will happen here and she’ll get nowhere and-

Okay, fine, it’s not like taking off her vest reveals anything outright explicit. The current light makes her shirt a little more see-through than it’s meant to be, but still. She is about as decent as she ever gets.

“What are you doing?” he asks, tone about as calm as she’s ever heard him.

“You do not need two blankets,” Nina counters. “I want.”

And oh does that phrase cover more than his little Fjerdan mind has probably ever thought of. All those comments he’s made about assuming she’s trying to seduce him? Yeah, hasn’t been the main goal yet but she’s thought about it. Seeing what she could do to him – she does not expect he’d take any initiative there, highly doubts he’s ever even kissed anyone – would not be the worst way to spend an evening. So, that’s part of the plan now. Make him squirm, get on top of him, and take her prize. Should be easy.

As if to prove her point, she starts loosening the laces of her shirt just enough to easily take it off. She hadn’t bothered to wear anything under it, another brilliant idea proving that two-weeks-ago Nina had questionable judgment in all things, and it is all too easy to push it up over her shoulders and off her arms and…

He’s still watching. He looks wide-eyed and possibly concussed, but he’s still watching.

If Nina were a different sort of person, and probably also if she had gotten laid within the past six months (for the record it has been eight and that cute little bartender with the long nails was a way better lover than she was an informant), she would cross her arms over her breasts and stop here and wait for whatever protective instincts Mathias has to kick in. Even given what she’s just done, she looks vulnerable and cute enough to wake him up like that, and-

“What are you doing?” he asks again, this time more hostile. Good. When he’s frustrated his voice gets all growly, and that does things to her, and-

“Can we get this over with?”

“This?”

“The part where we have questionable hatesex that I will forget ever happened within the next year and you will remember for the rest of your life because whatever little creature gets stuck with you someday will not fuck you like I want to.”

For a moment, she’s pretty sure she broke him. This is definitely not about the blanket anymore, and-

“I. Don’t. Hate. You.”

Nina laughs. “Yeah well you are deeper in denial than anybody I’ve ever met. I am everything that scares you and you are stuck with me and I’m not sure which part of your code I do not violate but I am sure you would’ve-”

“You saved my life. I owe you everything.”

“Cute. Obligation. Great reason to put up with someone but still do everything you can to drag your feet about it.”

“Why do you… want me?” He sounds all hesitant, and good grief has nobody ever told this man what he looks like? Or do all of his people look that good at that age… that’s plausible enough…

“Limited options right now. It’s you or my hand and you’re warmer.”

She is not sure what she’s expecting beyond not what he actually does.

Fine, so she’s been good and hasn’t looked more than she had to when he’s been in a state of undress. Watching him strip right now, layers of leathers and furs that are apparently frightfully easy to take off, is different. He is wanting her to watch, keeping his eyes on her the whole time until he is completely naked in front of her and… she can’t help licking her lips, he is pretty and she wants all of that all over her. Now.

“This or your hand,” he repeats in a way that suggests that at least she probably won’t have to explain the general patterns of female masturbation to him. “Make your choice.”

She about tackles him.

He’s built like a damn tree, Nina reminds herself in the process. Solid enough to handle her attempt at literally jumping him, which doesn’t exactly work but does throw off his balance for a moment, and she gets him pulled down for a bitey kiss. He has just a little bit of scruff now and she’d wanna see what that feels like between her legs but also she is pretty sure Fjerdan men do not do that and she doesn’t want to completely wreck him in one go, and while she still suspects all of this is new to him, he has good instincts.

Her skirt and underwear are feeling like too much of an undesired obstacle, so she undoes them with her free hand while trying to stick her tongue down his throat. So she’s a little aggressive, whatever, he’s clearly into it and nobody gets hurt by it.

“What do you need me to do,” he breathes, and oh he can admit being clueless, this is a treasure, this is-

She grabs his wrist and puts his hand between her thighs. “Poke around until you like the noises I’m making.”

Mathias has good hands. She’s known this for several days now, but it is a different thing to know it with one of said hands exploring her soft parts. She feels a fingertip inside her then quickly pulled back, another batting her clit back and forth with uncertainty. Then the finger inside her is back, and she knows how wet she is, and-

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he murmurs.

“That’s why I’m leading. I’m not giving you the chance.”

But he couldn’t hurt her like this, she thinks. Not with his hands prepping her and a second finger up inside her and accidentally finding her sensitive spot, not with his prick hard against her belly, not with his mouth taking kisses as he learns what he likes. There is something inherently good in him and she worries for a moment that what they are about to do will break it, and yet-

“Get on your back,” she orders. Easier for both of them if she leads, she reminds herself.

He does without any complaint, and she takes a moment to enjoy the view. The solidness of him, for the next few minutes all hers. Would any of the girls he might get stuck with back home be able to handle this? And the way he’s looking up at her, a scared but willing participant in whatever she decides to do. Maybe he’s right. Maybe hatesex is the wrong word.

She straddles him, knees around his hips, and drops.

Blame the dry spell. Blame the absolute weirdness of the situation. Blame the fact that she is tired and hungry and cold. None of that matters. He feels good inside her and she makes a noise she cannot describe and-

“Am I…?”

“No. Feels good.”

She rolls her hips against his to prove a point, works him even deeper into her and leans down for more kisses. She can taste the shock and the innocence of him. This isn’t how he thought his first time would go, she is sure of it now, and yet he is allowing her and-

His hips jerk up and she makes a shocked little noise. “Do that again.”

He does, and she continues her pattern, and… it’s good, on her side. Not the best sex she’s ever had, but his hesitance is useful enough. She doesn’t trust him to say if he’s getting close, so she stays focused on his face, looking for signs, looking for-

She shifts her angle just a little bit, his prick hits the right spot inside her harder than she expects, and she shatters.

As she comes down, she sees that his expression has turned to something worse, scared and worried and unable to speak. He’s still hard inside her, at least, but he is motionless and cold and she doesn’t-

“Did I hurt you?”

Nina laughs. She shouldn’t, this is a legitimately valid question, but-

“No. What you just did felt amazing. Your turn.”

She resumes rolling her hips against his to indicate the conversation is over and she does not want to explain herself, and a few clenches of her inner walls later he spills inside her. It’s a beautiful thing to experience, the sudden warmth overlapping with the strangled gasp of surprise and-

“You know this means I have to marry you,” he says when he’s capable of coherent thought. “If there’s any chance…”

She shifts position so their bodies are no longer connected. “No. It doesn’t.”

“But I…”

“We’re too different,” she murmurs. “You know that. There’s nowhere safe. If anything… if the worst happens, I’ll lie.”

“Honor is honor. If there is even a chance-“

And oh, for a moment she wants it too. For a moment, she lets herself think about the impossibility of being all that she could be, both Grisha and wife, not forced to choose between her complexities. Unrealistic, she knows, a flighty daydream at best but she wants all the same.

“Nothing to worry about. My last cycle finished three days before your people tried to kill me, so… right now I can’t get pregnant.”

“Still. If it happened… I would stand by you.”

She kisses his face, covers the angles of him in wet kisses. “Good to know.”

[sleepless-in-starbucks]

Hi could you talk more about why youd recommend not watching ww84?

Sure!

warnings for under the cut: spoilers for WW84 and a bit of the first wonder woman; i only saw WW84 once a few days ago + it’s been a hot sec since i saw the original so if i get a few details wrong i apologize

tl;dr with no spoilers: WW84 is a poorly executed movie that insults its viewer with its messy and self-proud plot, bad character/relationship portrayals, and offers a personal slap in the face to a majority of its audience in their various discriminations, generalizations, and plot points.

the first point is the racism, made well by the post i reblogged here, (edit: found a second post that goes more in depth here) so i’d just suggest looking at that for that matter

next is just How they portray wonder woman in this one

i really appreciated the way the first movie portrayed diana because they did very well in keeping true to her Amazonian raising and life while still clearly showing she was a woman

when i say this i mean that a lot of media has a tendency to either make women who are very fem and keep to traditional gender roles or women who more or less shun femininity and attempt to largely fulfill only male gender roles

diana in the original is a warrior, strong and fierce, but still a woman, not trying to shun that or anything. she wears styles that suit her while still being woman’s styles (she doesn’t force her way into a suit), she talks of and addresses her womanhood proudly and without issue, etc

i want to note here i have no issue with female characters who act extremely masc and reject femininity- i love them tbh- but it’s important to remember that it’s not inherently against womanhood or anything to be a strong fighter who doesn’t stick to every stereotypical social gender norm

and the first wonder woman movie shows this very well

WW84... oh boy

first of all, wonder woman’s changing outfits every other scene. even between scenes where it makes no sense! i’m not saying she can only wear one set of clothes but Geez this was too much

not to mention an entire scene dedicated to her helping steve pick a fashion look? i understand this was to highlight the ‘80-ness of the movie, and it would’ve been fine if it seemed diana was helping him pick a period appropriate look, but it was clear she was trying to help him pick a ‘fashionable’ look which. wonder woman? from the island without a sense of popular outfits or fashion? what?

and the amount of focus on her wearing high heels.... ugh

i’m not saying you can’t have a badass woman who also likes social gender norm fem things but it felt clear that wasn’t what they were going for

wonder woman in the first movie liked practical fashion and not only were many of her outfits not that, her high heels? one hundred percent not practical

it didn’t fit her character and felt horribly out of place, clearly just the producers / directors / whoever going ‘oh, wonder woman is a woman how can we show this? fashion! high heels!’ and i hated it

(warning: imma be jumping from thought to thought as they bump into each so uh... enjoy the train-of-thought style of flaw informing)

and starting at the beginning like.... wow that scene had no purpose

wonder woman cheats in a competition and is punished for this by losing it in the end. except. this is stupid for two reasons

as the audience is shown she didn’t cheat on purpose. she made a mistake, lost her horse, and made a strategy to get back into the race despite this. honestly? i thought the story was going to be a lesson in ingenuity in the worst looking situations. but it wasn’t, which is bad storytelling, because the lesson is then based on a point that isn’t even that true

it is literally Never important again later. unless you count what was going on with the wishstone as ‘cheating to victory’ which i dont. that’s not even what the villain did. he wanted to take over the world. there’s no victory there you get without cheating. wtf. why did that message even happen

going into the actual story we meet the cheetah pretty quick, when she’s still whatever-her-civilian-name-is

and the cheetah... she’s such a bad villain

she doesn’t have the same backstory as she does in the comics

in this one, she uses the wishstone- which is a whole ‘nother thing in and of itself- to wish to be like diana, because ig being smart as hell but social awkward as hell too is so bad you need to desperately wish to be someone else? i hate that trope, but onwards-

she gets that, but in exchange for not only diana’s likable personality she also gets her wonder woman powers (and she loses her glasses, because pretty and cool means no glasses, right? /s), she loses her kindness bc of the rules of the wishstone- in exchange for your wish, it takes smth u care about a lot from you; for her, it was her kindness

this makes her villain! just because she lost her kindness. yep. honestly not a good look regarding all those people out there who are low/no empathy and can still be wonderful nice people but i digress

at one point she complains about why she needs to keep her power rather than go back to being just Her and i fucking wanted to scream

she has like. half a dozen degrees, clearly a couple of friends even if she’s awkward, and she’s got a life that was perfectly okay before she made the wish. as someone who is also socially awkward as hell, it infuriated me to here her acting like it was the fucking end of the world she couldn’t be more extroverted or whatever. there are ways to work on that!!! the movie trying to convince the audience she had a legit reason to not un-wish her wish (for the good of the entire world) was stupid and insulting

also her transformation between ‘looks human, wearing cheetah-pattern clothing‘ to ‘humanoid with cheetah fur/skin/appearance’ literally just. happened. for no reason. that was stupid

y’know what else is stupid? the wishstone. it was clearly just a plot device, and a poorly executed one at that. it isn’t even consistent in how it works

and they did a whole side thing with like. how it had the language of the gods written on part of it and it appeared in random locations across history around the time of great tragedies and,,, that was it???

they never explored the divine connection??? who planted it or why??? how it location traveled or anything????

like i said. poor plot device

i move on now to steve

oh boy steve

he’s brought back to life by diana’s wish on the wishstone, but... it causes him to come back in someone else’s body, quantum leap style. this is. weird. and is never ever addressed by him or wonder woman except once in a throw away comment. like. diana and steve kiss and are implied to have sex while steve is in someone else’s body and neither of them seem to care. this is not good!!

and then his relationship with diana? HORRIBLE

in the first movie they were barely starting to fall in love, only barely a couple even if that. more importantly they were friends, and that night he died diana didn’t lose a potential lover so much as she lost her first non-Amazonian friend

but WW84 portrays their relationship as if they were not only already a couple, but one close enough that even after forty years since steve’s death diana is still completely and hopelessly in love with him to the point that she’s literally hanging off his arm as soon as he’s back and making love that very night

it plays again once more into the misrepresentation of wonder woman’s character (how stereotypically hollywood female to fall over herself at the sight of her love interest) and it wrecks their relationship, which had been a lovely friends-who-could-be-more

what they should’ve done was focus on that friendship, build it back up after the long gap for wonder woman, and then started to rebuild that possible romance (and tear it down at the perfect moment... right when steve had to go again... ah that would’ve been lovely)

but they wanted to go in full-haul on the romance and it just felt. wrong and weak to me. diana’s refusal to consider giving up her wish (to get her powers back and save the world) is bc she doesn’t want to let steve go again, which makes more sense in the context of a first and true friend rather than a hastily slapped together love interest

steve’s character was generally good tbh but the way he played into the story? bad

moving on... the main villain of the movie? sucks. he’s just. fucking awful

despite a motivation being given that he wants to have money, he launches into wanting to take over the world for no real reason. he takes advantage of people for this and almost destroys the world he wants to rule for it. the main reason he stops this is for his son, who up until now he largely ignored and didn’t seem to care that much for outside of basic obligations. and the movie dares try to make him sympathetic by throwing in the fact he grew up poor and was bullied and not liked which i HATE

lots of people are/have been poor. lots of people are/have been bullied (myself included). that does NOT justify them DESTROYING THE WORLD TRYING TO TAKE IT OVER. can it be used to show the audience why he does what he does? yes. but to use it and clearly try to make it a reason to hand-wave-away what he did? NO. FUCK NO

also fucking. y’know how wonder woman took down this villain? she talked to him and the world. she gave a stirring speech while she laid slumped against a wall, not injured, just too weak to beat a bit of wind. she talked and she looped her lasso around his leg so she could talk to the world to to convince them to give up their wishes

once again... the mischaracterization

in the first movie, wonder woman gives a stirring speech while fighting Areas. it’s done in her battle, beating the god of war up while reminding him of what she stood for, who she was, why she would keep fighting for a broken world

it was BEAUTIFUL. it was MEANINGFUL. it was BADASS but SINCERE

this was weak. and it clearly wanted to be more than it was

the whole movie wants to be more than it is- it wants to have an important meaningful message like the first movie, about wishes for the self and war and the world and whatever. and it wants it so badly it does it horribly

the message is ham-handed yet messy and unclear and not right. it doesn’t make sense, and it feels poorly plotted. the movie thinks it’s more than it is and that makes it very hard to watch

and to finish my rant off... WW84 lied to its audience

did you see any ads for WW84? i did. they were bright, vibrant, funky music, stunning moments, action and intrigue. i was thrilled for a movie like it

the actual movie isn’t that

it’s not nearly as action filled, it’s not as ‘80s-focused as it leads you to believe, some of the most prominently featured moments barely matter

the lightning swing? pointless, as at that point in the movie wonder woman’s learned how to fly and does it for no reason but the trailers

and that cool suit? introduced in a random myth for no reason halfway through the movie, brought in at random with no explanation, only there for show and the trailers

WW84 is not the movie is lead people to believe it was, and the movie it is is poorly executed and insulting to a variety of peopler/minorities

if you’re gonna watch it, pirate it. i can give you a link. just don’t give dc your money or your legit views for it

[normal-thoughts-official]

The world keeps spinning (it really shouldn't)

Vance did it. He defeated Josephine, saved his grandpa and Elliot, and saved the town. Everything's fixed.

No. Everything is awful. He failed, and now his friend- now Tom is gone.

And he'd rather fight Josephine all over again, because it'd be easier than what he has to do now- tell Andy about it.

Fandom: It Lives (Visual Novels)

Relationships: Andy Kang/Tom Sato, Danni Asturias/Imogen Wescott, (dannimogen is background and very brief but i couldn't resist), Andy Kang & Ava Cunningham & Lucas Thomas & Lily Ortiz

Additional Tags: tom dies and everything is awful, Angst, Grief/Mourning, Friendship, for basic context im going with the version of ILITW that i got, which is that everyone survived and noah took jane's place, and then for ILB i did the version where tom dies obviously, (which is not the version i got), (everyone survived), (i feel the need to say this for my own ego), but anyway i was like what if tho. andy would be devastated, and then... this happened?, only difference from canon is that ILITW MC told everyone about noah a lot before, also like. imma be real with yall, im physically uncapable of giving my MCs serious names, so ILB MC was named That Bitch and i didnt want to give him a real name, cuz it felt like betrayal, so im just calling him vance for this one, is it his nickname? is he called vance vance? dont worry about it, Anyway that's it, Pining, you know. before the death part. it's mentioned, also we're ignoring the whole richard tries to murder MC thing, cuz i dont have time for that, so pretend ILB ended on chapter 17, Hopeful Ending, considering the theme i mean

Read it on Ao3

The city of Westchester looks exactly the same, but somehow feels a lot less wholesome, now. Vance walks in it and feels like a corpse among the living, like a ghost screaming to everyone that something's wrong. And being ignored.

It shouldn't look the same, without Tom.

But no one knows, yet.

He swallows, running a hand behind the nape of his neck. That's why he's here, anyway - they should know, they deserve to know, and he doesn't want to have the funeral without Tom's friends there.

Which is why he's going to tell Andy. Himself, in person. Because he might not know him very well, but he wants to do the right thing, and that's the least Andy deserves. He knows there's no one Tom loved like he did Andy, and from what he's seen of them together, the feeling was mutual.

He has to do this. But he feels sick, just thinking about that bond, and how it was ruined.

How could he let this happen to them?

He was so cocky, so stupid, so reckless... He thought everything would turn out okay. Assumed it would, even, because it kept getting him through it, to think that everything would turn out fine.

God. What a joke.

He walks into the little diner Andy had recommended. I'm sure you've heard of that place, Tom loves it, he had texted. We always went there to celebrate our wins back in high school. His stomach had churned, but he didn't say anything, because he wasn't going to tell Andy via text. He has to do this right. It's the least he owes him.

So he pretended that everything was fine, and agreed to meet him there. Woke up, and dragged himself to the place, trying to muster up the courage to face the world that seemed to not even care about his mistakes.

When he gets to the diner's door, he takes a deep breath, trying to ground himself for what he's about to do. Face his own mistakes. Face the pain he caused when he failed them both.

He walks in, and to his relief, and despair, Andy is already there. He smiles brightly when he sees Vance, and Vance wants to disappear.

"Vance! Nice to see you, dude. I heard about what went down in Pine Springs, glad you're okay," he says, not giving time for Vance to answer before continuing, this weird sense of calm and sympathy about him. "So, I assume you still need help with that ghost? From what I've seen in the news, it seemed like you handled it pretty well, but it's not like they are giving us supernatural updates or anything, so I figured there were still some loose ends to tie. Are the other guys coming? Where's Tom?" he looks over behind Vance, and Vance wants to die at the question. God, how is he going to tell him? He didn't really think about that, beyond the part where he has to. "I kind of thought you'd come together again. Bad move to come separated, Tom is always late to everything, I swear if it weren't for me he'd have been kicked out of the team for missing practice too many times. And I'm not the most punctual guy in the world, mind you, but I still had to drag his ass there so he'd be on time- is everything okay?"

Vance is a little shocked by the question. It's not, but what is he supposed to answer? "Andy," he says, a little careful, "things… went a little wrong, back there."

"Oh, shoot," he says, "I'm sorry, man, I kinda assumed, when I heard about how the flooding and the animal attacks were in full swing and then just stopped suddenly, that that was when you got rid of the ghost, you know? And seeing you all in one piece… I thought it was over already. Do you need help? I can round up the guys, and we can go-"

"No, Andy," Vance says, "the ghost is gone."

Andy looks at him, confused. "Then what's the problem?"

"Tom," he says, then winces when he sees all the color drain from Andy's face.

Andy waits for barely a second, then breaks into anxious questioning. "Tom? Why? What do you mean? Is he hurt? How bad is it? Did he have to go to the hospital? Where is he?"

Vance wants to cry. God. God. He can't do this. "Andy..."

Andy just looks at him, eyes wild, terrified, and it hasn't even hit him yet. "Vance. Vance. Please. What happened? Does Tom need me? Because if so, we need to go-"

"Tom's gone," he says, and it leaves him in a rush, a whisper, taking with it the last of his energy. He's empty, and somehow, it's still awful. "He's… he's dead, Andy."

Andy looks at him, eyes wide, unfocused, lost. "This isn't funny," he says. "If Tom put you up to this, knock it off right now. Tell him not to ever joke about-"

"Andy," Vance says, then swallows. "Tom wouldn't joke about that. You know that."

"No, he wouldn't, but..." His eyes begin to water, panic settling in, gaze darting across the room as if searching for him, "But… No. No. No, knock it off."

Vance starts crying before Andy does. "I'm sorry, Andy."

--------

Andy is in shock. He freezes in place, mouth hanging open, everything about him completely still except for his eyes, still so damn wide, still searching the place, searching Vance, begging for something, anything. Vance sits him back down on the table, gently, and Andy lets himself be handled back, eyes still not settling on him.

"I'm sorry," Vance says. "I… I promised you that I would take care of him. I tried, but… I'm so sorry."

"How?" he asks, "how could this happen? This isn't… After Redfield, when everyone survived, I just… I didn't think any of us could lose to another monster, I..." He shakes his head, vigorously, desperately. "This was supposed to be over. We were done, we were free, it was supposed to be over, we were all supposed to be safe, it shouldn't..."

"I'm sorry. It all happened so fast, I… If I had been faster, maybe..."

"Well, it's a bit late for that now," Andy snaps, and Vance bites his lip, not recoiling, because he deserves it. Then Andy stops, as if realizing what he had said, and for a second, his eyes seem clear again. He shakes his head. "No. I'm sorry. I… If there's anything I've learnt from everything that happened, it's that we can't point fingers when things get hard." He finally looks up at Vance, shaking, eerily still, nothing like the guy he was just seconds ago. He's wrecked, Vance thinks, and he wants to tear at himself in guilt. "What happened? Did he- did he drown, or… Did the ghost..."

"We were fighting monsters," Vance explains. "There were just… So many of them, and it all happened so fast, I..." he looks away, not daring to look back at the memory, not daring to remember the awful scene. As if he has to. Everytime he closes his eyes, it's back, punishing him. "We got his body," he explains. "Pine Springs is taking the victims to mass graves, but we wanted to give him a proper burial. I thought… You'd want to come."

Andy seems surprised, like that hadn't crossed his mind. "You haven't buried him yet?"

Vance bites his lip. "No. We're doing it tonight. We didn't have the time before, and… Well, I thought you'd want to be there. And I think he'd have wanted his body to be in Westchester, so..." He trails off.

Andy looks at him, hesitant. He bites his lip, looks away, then back at him. "Can I see the body?"

Vance does recoil, this time. He wasn't expecting this question. "I… You won't want to."

"What do you mean, I won't want to? I need to say goodbye to him, I-"

"Andy," he says, as gently as possible, because he deserves Andy's anger, all of it, but he won't let him do that to himself. "You won't want to remember him like that. His body…" He looks at Andy's eyes. He's still furious, livid, shaking, and he's lost, and Vance realizes that he doesn't get it, doesn't understand what Vance is saying, and this might be even worse than having to tell him Tom is dead. "It's torn to pieces, Andy. There's not much for you to see."

Andy freezes, for the second time that day. "Was he- oh, god," he looks at his own shaky hands, somehow even more in shock than before. "Was it… At least, was it quick?"

Vance starts crying again. He opens his mouth to answer. He can't. He chokes on the words, on his guilt, on his uselessness. "I'm so sorry, Andy."

------

Andy throws up. Once, twice. He doesn't insist on looking at the body. Obviously, he can't. Just imagining it- it's too much.

He tries to comfort Vance, because he- he's trying to do better, with his anger, with his impulsiveness, but all he can think about is how much he wants to destroy something, and honestly, the whole conversation is a blur. He punches the wall instead, once he gets home. And throws up. Again and again. Sends his friends a message, letting them know about the funeral. Cries. Punches the wall again. And again, and again, hoping that his hands will start to bleed, that he'll tear himself apart. His mom asks what's got him so angry, and he yells, "Tom is dead!". Her face twists in shock, and he can't look at it. He runs away.

Being back outside is almost worse. Everything- it should be in shambles. The whole town, the whole world should be on fire, fizzling, filled with screams and despair, like Andy is. He's never lived in a world without Tom before, never been away from him his whole life, and it shouldn't look like it's just the same. Everything should be gone, destroyed. And it is, but it doesn't look that way, and Andy wants to tear it all apart until it makes sense, at least.

He hates Westchester now. He hates it. God damn the stupid woods, and the stupid cult, and the fucking Power! God damn Andy for telling Tom about it, for letting him become this sort of- monster hunter, for believing that just because they overcame a ghost once, it would keep happening if they pushed their luck.

This wasn't supposed to happen.

Tom can't be dead. It's impossible.

How can Andy still be standing, if Tom isn't here?

---------

He wanders like that the rest of the day, not noticing the hunger that builds up after going a whole day without eating, not noticing the passersby looking at him worriedly, not noticing the thousands of missed calls from his mom, not noticing anything but this awful despair. He knows the feeling of wanting to claw his chest off intimately well, but it's never been like that before. He wants to carve himself hollow. He wants to scream. He wants to run. And he runs from the all-encompassing nothingness, even though he has nowhere to go.

He goes from angry to empty, and then back to angry, all day long, and the day passes in a blur.

--------

Andy meets up with Vance and two girls from their crew. Their group was pretty small, he realizes. A lot smaller than Andy's was, all those years ago. Three years ago. Forever ago. Another lifetime. Just yesterday.

The cemetery is empty, but there's a grave with a black casket they're standing next to. "I thought all the cemetery crew was helping Pine Springs," he says, like he cares. Honestly, he hadn't thought about the logistics of this at all.

"They are," Vance confirms, serious. "You, uh… You know about Noah, right…?"

Andy nods. "Yeah, we, uh, reintroduced ourselves to him a little after you guys left." It was weird, to say the least. All that anger, all that betrayal, bubbling up again right when they had all started to move on from what had happened, to think that it was over… The urge to scream at him, demand answers… And then seeing all the hurt, and the confusion, and remembering that they had loved Noah, once, most of their lives, and that at the end of the day, the only one who had suffered from his actions was himself.

It wasn't easy to forgive. Not to Andy. Or Stacy. Or Ava. But they had been working on it. Maybe they couldn't forgive, much less forget, but at the same time, they couldn't get rid of that bond, either.

Still… "What does this have to do with… With Tom?" If Noah had anything to do with his death, Andy would kill him all over again. He doesn't care about his freaky powers, he'll die if he has to, but Noah will pay.

"He, uh, helped. Dig the grave and, uh, get a casket. That's how we got everything ready."

Oh. "I… I see," he says. "Is he here?"

"No. I told him you guys were coming, and he said it was better if he left."

"Oh," Andy answers. "I guess that's… Yeah. Still..." he raises his voice a little bit, in the direction of the woods. "Thank you, Noah."

He doesn't see or hear anything, not really, but still, somehow, he can tell that Noah is pleased. He can picture Noah's smile and that fragile little "friendsss..."

He sighs, suddenly exhausted.

Vance seems to notice, god bless his soul. "Are the others coming?", he asks, gently.

"Lily, Lucas, and Ava are," Andy replies. "The rest were out of town, and they… They won't make it."

"I'm sorry."

Andy kicks a pebble. "It's fine," he says. It's the kind of lie that's so absurd that it becomes true. Nothing is fine. It'll never be fine. So it doesn't matter at all, and it ends up being fine.

Vance seems to realize what's going through his head, somehow, because he looks unsure of what to say. Finally, he settles on, "uh, Andy. These are Danni, and Imogen," he says, gesturing to each of them, and Andy musters up enough energy to look at their faces while he does that, at least. Then, his eyes widen for a second, finally taking in what they look like.

"Wait, you're Imogen Wescott?" he says, a little dumbfounded. "When I heard that name, I kinda expected you to be, you know..."

"White and insufferable?" Imogen asks, a little smile directed at him, so gentle he can barely handle it. "Yeah. That's why I'd rather go by Genny, usually."

Danni frowns at her, slightly troubled. "You never told me that."

Imogen's smile turns a little brighter. "Oh, no, not for you, Danni. For you, I'd rather go by 'babe'".

Danni also smiles at her, and they squeeze each other's hands, and the edges of grief seem to turn just a little softer for them both. Andy can tell that things get just a little easier for them, just a little less grim, because they have each other. And he needs to look away, wants to run, because he and Tom… They could've… In a way, they were...

He feels like he's ready to run again. God, he fucked up so bad. What was he supposed to do now, how could he get better when the one thing in the world that always made him feel better was Tom? He lost him, he's gone, it's over, and somehow it hadn't hit quite the way it did at that moment, looking at that connection, that love that showed through grief. He averts his eyes, feeling wild and cornered, and turns back right in time to almost run into Lily - who looks devastated, and reaches out to touch his arm. Which feels crazy, because Andy is raw, and his whole body is bleeding, and rotting away, and who would touch him-

"I'm so sorry, Andy." She says, and Andy finds himself hugging her tight, and he feels like she should wither, die at his touch, suffocate, but she just hugs him back and pats him and Andy cries on her shoulder, and he's never cried in front of her before, much less like this. But he can't stop, he can't do anything, he's so heavy and dizzy and lost-

And Lily is stronger than they give her credit for, because she holds him, this endless weight that is him, even when he shakes and stains her sweater with tears, like it's nothing. She feels so solid, right then, the only solid thing in the world. She's got him, Andy knows, and it's like finally he ran into something he can take shelter in. He takes a deep breath, then another, and holds on for dear life.

"I'm sorry," is the first thing he says, maybe the only thing he knows how to say right now. Maybe this is how Jane felt, in the end - this endless spectre of regret, bigger than everything, than everyone, encompassing her and drowning her until it ate her whole and left her empty, with only the Power and its evil inside her.

He's so tired, but he's not empty, not yet.

He almost wants to be.

"Don't apologize," Lily says, so sad and sympathetic, and it takes Andy a moment to realize what she's even talking about. "I'm really sorry, I..."

It's only then that Andy's eyes focus enough to see Ava and Lucas standing a little after her, their faces twisted with sadness and bodies frozen in place. At times like this, it really is obvious that Lily is the bravest out of all of them, by far. Andy doesn't think he's ever cried in front of any of them, and Lucas and Ava look- completely lost.

Lucas is the first to talk, out of them both. His voice is very soft. "Andy, if there's anything you need..."

Ava interrupts, words leaving her way too fast. "We'll be staying with you tonight." She blinks for a second, frowning at Lucas. "Sorry, I, uh, hadn't realized you were talking." She looks like she just came out of a daze. She probably had been running that in her head for a while. Lucas puts his hand on her shoulder, and Ava runs a head on her neck, embarrassed.

"It's okay," Andy answers, even though her apology wasn't directed at him. "You don't have to, you know, watch over me or..." He trails off.

"We're not leaving you alone," Ava says, resolute. "You know the others couldn't come, but we all agreed that we should be… You know..."

Andy chokes on something he can't quite feel. He looks down at his feet, and he hasn't felt this small in years. "I… Okay."

Ava reaches out to him, hesitant, and gives him a little pat on the shoulder. Lucas starts rubbing his back soothingly, and, very awkwardly, they gravitate into a group hug. Andy can see the nervousness in Ava's eyes, the worry that she's doing this wrong somehow, like a hug is the most complex thing in the world, and he tries to muster up a little smile of encouragement to her, but he's forgotten how to do that. He doesn't know how to do anything, anymore.

Slowly, they separate, and all three of them still keep some sort of touch with Andy - even Ava, with her hand close to his shoulder - like they're trying to anchor him, but he drifts away anyway, lost in whatever it is that's left of himself.

Vance looks down at him for a moment, as if waiting for a signal, but Andy doesn't know for what, so he waits for Vance to figure it out. Finally, he says, "should we start?"

Andy frowns. "Wasn't there some other guy with you? Pork something?"

Vance, Imogen, and Danni all look at each other, uncertain, surprised, for a moment. It's Imogen who speaks up. "He… He left us."

Ava swallows. "Did he also..."

"No," she says, shaking her head, sadly. "He, uh, deserted the group."

"He what?" Someone asks, shocked, almost outraged, and when Andy sees the looks in everyone's faces, he realizes that it was him.

"He couldn't take it," Vance says, face twisted with sadness. "All the fighting, the monsters… He left."

Andy is shaking. Falling apart. About to explode. "When?"

Vance doesn't look at him. "Right before the final battle."

"He abandoned you when you were going up against the evil ghost?"

"He..." Vance begins, then finds that he has nothing else to say. "Yeah."

"How…" Andy begins, lost for words, and then it happens. He explodes. "How dare he!" He screams. "Tom was counting on him, he trusted him, he needed him, and he just left? He should have been there! He should have been there, he should," Andy looks at his own hands, in shock, watching them tremble and go out of focus, like there are tears blocking his vision, and he feels sick, on the verge of death, and he realizes that he's not talking about that guy at all. "He should have been there!" He slips from his own control, falling to his knees, covering his face, feeling shame, shame, shame, hatred, disgust. "He should… I should… Oh God, I just let him go alone..."

"Andy..." Someone says. Maybe Lucas. Maybe Lily. Maybe the Imogen girl. It sounds so sympathetic. He wants to claw at his own skin and hide.

"I should have been there, I shouldn't… I had experience, what was I thinking..."

"Tom didn't want you to go," someone else says, gently. "I was there when you talked, remember? You didn't abandon him. You said you were going to come, and he told you not to."

"Tom.. Tom is not my damn boss," Andy answers, still covering his face, feeling the tears stop spilling and start to drown him from the inside, and god damn T, the least Tom deserves is for him to be able to cry properly- "I-I should have… gone," he chokes, shaking.

The next one who speaks is Ava. "He wouldn't have wanted you to be at risk, Andy."

"I don't care. I don't care. I'm selfish like that, I'd rather it was me. I could have helped him, I could have saved him, even if I had to- to take his place..."

"Andy..." is all Ava says, sounding shaken, devastated.

"Fuck!" He screams, punching the ground beneath him as if trying to punish the earth for taking Tom. "He would have never left me like that, I could always count on Tom, I could always..." he feels his chest constrict, or maybe burst, with all the tears and horror inside of him, like he's cracking from the inside. "Always..." he can't form the words, can't find the air, and he falls in on himself, more, more, more, closing in, suffocating, "always..." he can't breathe. He can't breathe. He tries to draw it in, to keep himself steady, but every time he tries to bring it in, the air escapes from him again, further, abandoning him, and he wheezes, again, again, closing in further, suffocating, oh God, he's going to die…

"It's a panic attack!" Someone screams, then kneels beside him, putting their hands on his shoulders. "Andy. Andy. Focus on me. You need to breathe. Deep lungfuls. Come on. I'll count to four. Keep breathing in. 1… 2..."

"Can't," he wheezes. It's too strong, like there's something… Something constricting his chest, inside and outside, and then he realizes… "Binder." He sits down straighter, no longer closing in on himself, and that awful vulnerability gets even worse, but it's easier to breathe. He follows the person's counts… 1, 2, 3, 4… Then up to five, then to six, then to seven, then eight… Until finally he doesn't need help, and he opens his eyes and contemplates the absolute mess that he is, and Imogen's kind, relieved face just inches from him.

"Good, Andy, you did well… I have these sometimes, too, I know how scary they are, you were so brave..." Imogen keeps on saying, painfully understanding, and he nods, a bit exhausted to explain. He didn't take his binder off all day, didn't remember… And if he wears it for too long, he's more prone to hyperventilating, especially if he's stressed. Tom knew that. Tom would have known what was going on. Tom… Fuck.

"I'm sorry," he says, to everyone, and no one in particular.

"Don't apologize. We're all glad you're okay," Lily says, and he realizes that, somehow, she had also kneeled beside him and brought him into another hug. He hides his face on her shoulder, shaking his head, trying to breathe. Breathing. She pets his head, a little bit, and he can feel some more touch, too - little pats on his shoulder and back, all gentle, not crowding him, like he's some sort of wild animal they're trying to calm down.

God, what a mess.

He holds Lily tighter, wanting to hide from the world. She lets him, because it's the kind of person Lily is. He feels himself drift away, for a while, but Lily's still petting his head and he can't lose himself completely. He shakes his head, wanting to fight it, almost wanting to get away from Lily, but he can't escape the gentleness in her embrace. He still can't cry, but he feels his eyes water and burn anyway, and he shakes his head against Lily's shoulder. He just wants this to be over. Please, he's so exhausted.

His breaths even, despite himself, but Andy keeps shaking, and he keeps shaking his head slightly against Lily. He wants this to end, it has- has to be a nightmare…

"Shh, Andy, don't hold it in, it's okay," Lily says, slowly, sadly, and Andy shakes his head more vigorously. No. He can't be weak right now, it's only going to make it last longer. He needs to end it, can't be done with this until Tom has gotten his goodbyes.

It's the least Andy owes him, now that there's nothing else he can do.

So, he speaks up.

"We should go on," he says, suddenly feeling resolute. It's easier to do this if he has something to focus on. He needs to see this through the end, for Tom. If he thinks only about that...

"Are you sure?" Vance asks, hesitant.

Andy nods, forcing his vision to focus. "He needs to rest."

----------

Everyone's speeches go by in a blur. Vance talks about how good Tom's heart was, how he was willing to drop everything to go help a bunch of strangers, how everyone could always count on him. He cries, and he says he's sorry, and the girls put their arms around him, tell him that he did his best. Imogen brings up how kind he was, and Danni talks about his strength. They really loved him, Andy notices, and feels his heart settle just a little bit. He was loved till the end. Of course he was.

Lucas talks about how supportive Tom was, how he was always uplifting everyone around him and would let Lucas babble on about conservation for hours. Lily brings up how much he believed in her and supported her when she was making her videogames. Ava says that Tom was the only one who ever saw her looking up Westchester's history and cults and just… Sat down with her and helped, understanding that she needed this to feel safe, to feel ready, and sharing that burden of getting ready for a disgrace, just a little bit. Andy never knew that Tom had been joining Ava for research. He could've helped with that, too. He could have done a lot of things, if he had paid more attention.

He's left for last, and a part of him wants to be a coward, to stay silent, but that was never his style.

"When Tom had turned into a zombie," he begins, "Redfi- Jane made him hurt me. And I wasn't worried for myself. I was worried for him. I wanted him back, no matter what it took, no matter what happened to me," he begins, not looking at anyone in particular, because he knows most of them already know this story, but he's not going to- he's not going to deny Tom the chance to know how he felt about him, before he rests. It's the least Andy owes him.

So, he takes a deep breath and goes on, pushing himself into saying something that matters.

"Then our friends showed up, and they said that Tom was still there. That I had to reach out to him. So I tried. I talked to him about our childhood. About how much he had been supporting me… How he was my best friend. He was hesitant, but so… Scared. I didn't know what to do. Tom and I always got each other..." He loses himself a little, shaking his head, purging the thoughts that were keeping him from going on, "And then someone said, 'Andy's hurt. H-he needs help'." He loses focus for a second, and that can't happen. He takes a breath, tries to make himself talk. "And just like that… Tom came back.

"He extended his hand to me, and helped me to my feet, and suddenly there was color in his face again, and for a second he wasn't even confused as to what the hell was going on, he just wanted to make sure I was okay. He came back because I needed him. Because he couldn't bear to hurt me. He was always there for me, and I… I don't think I ever needed him more than right now."

He stops a minute, to look at the faces surrounding him. There's a grief in them that looks almost like… Pity.

And Andy isn't even mad about it. He feels pitiful.

"I'm not the best guy with words," he admits, "so I don't know how to express how much this meant to me, or how much Tom meant to me. No one understood me like him. Tom is… Was… No, is a part of me. Maybe the best part of me, because I loved him more than anything else about myself. I'll miss him for the rest of my life." He looks down at Tom's grave, carved out of anything else to say. "I love you, buddy."

It's not the greatest speech that's ever been given, but it's what he can say, and at least he's done it. He'll be able to do better, later. He'll come back to talk to him again. As many times as he can, for as long as he can. He swears on that.

Andy steps back from the grave, and doesn't look as they slowly fill it, covering the closed casket with dirt. He finally allows himself to let the exhaustion catch up with him, and is overcome by that blissful, blissful emptiness.

---------

He's fully expecting himself to drop asleep as soon as they get to Ava's place. They decided to stay there for the night, because Andy still doesn't want to face his mom, to see that same grief in her, for her to want to talk to him, to tell him that everything would be fine. He can't do that, not today. At least Lucas had enough foresight to warn her of where they are, so she should leave him alone for now. Lucas is very reliable in a crisis, Andy thinks, making a note to himself to thank him properly later.

But he can't sleep. He's too exhausted to even rest. And for some reason, even though he doesn't want to talk, that's exactly what he found himself doing for the past few hours. Vomiting up all sorts of memories and thoughts, ranging from funny moments he had with Tom to all of his regrets, and Andy's always been kind of a stress-talker, but it's never been like this. He feels like he's been skinned alive; there's nothing to hold himself together, to hold anything at all in.

He cries all the tears he didn't think he had left in him anymore, and he curses himself, and the guy who left them in the end, and Noah, and the Power, and the cult, and himself again. He scratches his own skin until Lucas gently takes his hands in his, stopping him from doing more of it. And he talks, through all of that. Talks and talks and talks.

The words make him drift through memories, through states of mind, and he knows he's so damn volatile today, it's like he can't anchor himself to a feeling, but his friends put up with him anyway.

Finally, he starts to settle into this sort of… Slowness, like his mind is clear, or maybe blank, even as he keeps on thinking. And he keeps talking through it, letting all the minor regrets have their turn after he's too damn done to keep dealing with the worst parts.

"I never told him I was in love with him," Andy says, staring at the three empty mattresses in front of him, because it's easier than looking at any of his friends, who are currently sitting right beside him, as he babbles on. "I was going to, you know? After R- Jane. I had almost died, so I figured, you know- yolo, and all that. And then I told myself, 'I'll wait until I'm out of the hospital.' And then I started to think… What if he didn't feel the same way? What if things got weird? What if I end up losing him? And I never told him," he looks at his own feet, "and now I lost him anyway."

They all just look at him. They used up all the "I'm sorry, Andy"s left in them a long time ago, he thinks. There's only so many platitudes you can muster up when you know they're worthless, when you're just repeating yourself.

God bless them for trying, though. They're sticking with him through their own- everyone's inadequacy to deal with what's going on. Andy can't thank them enough for that.

"He knew you loved him," Ava says, serious, and Andy frowns at her, doubtful. "He might not have known you were in love with him, but… He knew how much he meant to you. I'm sure of it."

Andy laughs, humorless, "did you finally get those mind reading powers you wanted?" he says. It falls flat, but they pretend it doesn't, for his sake.

Ava rolls her eyes. "Don't be an ass, Kang," she says. "No. I just… I can tell. Anyone can."

Andy bites his lip, looking away.

She presses on, as gently as she can. "Besides, you also know, don't you? Regardless of anything else… Tom loved you, just as much as you loved him."

"I still love him," Andy says, before he can think about it, and a weird kind of shame creeps up on him - for saying it, for not saying it sooner, for realizing that this… It'll probably never go away, even now that it's completely pointless, that it's just proof of his cowardice.

"That's… Normal," Lily says, fiddling a little with her sweater. "You don't forget someone just like that, just because something happened. I mean, look at me and Britney. It took me years to get over her, and even then, I had to have supernatural forces show me exactly who she was, first."

"She didn't deserve you," Ava says.

"Maybe not. It doesn't matter now," Lily says. "The point is… It's okay to still love him."

Andy hugs his knees. "I don't think anything is okay, right now."

"That's okay, too."

They stay in silence for a moment, and then Lucas speaks up. "I know 'it gets better' stories don't really help at times like these," he says, "so I won't tell you that, but… I know what it's like, to feel like nothing will ever be okay, ever be enough. So… At least you're not alone, in that feeling."

Andy's mouth does something. It's not a smile, but it's what it can do right now. "Yeah. At least it's not like last time," he says. "With Jane. We all fell apart, and… It felt really lonely, even though..." He chokes up. "I had Tom."

Lucas rubs at Andy's shoulder sadly, and Andy shakes his head.

"It's just that he didn't get it, you know? And I couldn't tell him, about what happened," he says, instead of thinking about how much worse this is, no matter how many friends he has by his side right now. "So I… Missed you guys." He finishes, ashamed.

"We get it," Ava says, solemn. "And we're sticking with you, this time around."

"Yeah," Lucas agrees.

"Yeah," Lily adds.

"Okay," Andy answers. "I… Thanks."

They hug him tighter. It's all they have to say.

[psycho-slytherin]

Bonus: Yoongi's chapter

Request: Hi! I would just like to say I LOVE strangers! In regards to the bonus chapter, I am so curious as to what Yoongi did at the end of ch. 19. The kiss between them is like my favorite part ever! I just wanna know what his point of view may have been! Again, love the series so much! Thanks for all you do!! <3

Context: This takes place during Strangers ch. 19 after Y/n learned of the damage to her apartment. This content is not relevant to the main Strangers plot.

WC: 3k I have no idea what happened

|mlist|

A/N: yes I did this instead of studying for any of my four finals and no I don't regret it, ty anon for the request! Pls drop an ask or comment letting me know what you think, requests are open!

“Rock, paper, scissors, shoot!”

“Nooo,” you groan goodnaturedly as you lose again. Taehyung, your rival, laughs as he grabs the bottle and tops off your glass. You’re sitting in between him and Seokjin, across from Namjoon. Yoongi, as usual, is curled up in his favorite armchair.

He watches you play in amusement, sipping from a cup of mint tea. He’s so used to keeping his guard up around you, and he has a feeling that, like last night, you’ll need help getting home. Even if he won’t be driving, he’d rather have his wits about him to ensure you stay safe.

Oh, wait, no – he’s struck by the reminder that your apartment is getting renovated; you’re staying at their place tonight. He blinks hard and takes a long pull of tea. He knows that he welcomed you to stay, but part of him feels nervous.

You chug the rest of your drink, which as far as Yoongi knows is some combination of beer and soju. He watches as you pause, your expression unreadable. You have a drop of soju dripping slowly down your bottom lip.

“Y/n-” he starts, about to alert you, when you reach up and swipe your lip with your thumb, catching the droplet. On hearing his voice, though, you turn and lock eyes with him. Right as you lick the droplet off your finger. Yoongi half-gasps into his cup, inhaling tea in the process. He immediately coughs and sputters, lungs burning.

“I- kitchen,” he manages, although no one seems to be paying attention. He stands, still coughing, and runs to the kitchen, standing over the sink as he struggles to catch his breath. Your face in that moment feels etched into the inside of his eyelids.

Dear god, that’s just not fair. Once his airway is clear, he runs the faucet, splashing cold water onto his face. He knows you don’t mean anything by your actions. You had an awful day and just want to forget. Speaking of… Xiumin. Yoongi clenches his fist, his face and hair dripping water. He wasn’t careful enough, and ended up soaking his collar as well. If he ever meets your ex, it’ll take all the self-control he has to keep from punching Xiumin in the throat.

When he returns to the living room, Yoongi sees you sobbing on Seokjin’s shoulder.

“I th-thought he loved m-me. Why does nobody love me?”

“I love you, Y/n,” Hoseok replies loudly. Yoongi glances at Namjoon.

“What happened?”

Namjoon shrugs, tipping his glass at Yoongi. “Dunno. She just started crying. Better out than in, I guess?”

“Sure,” Yoongi replies absentmindedly. Seokjin is rubbing Y/n’s back comfortingly.

“Why is she staying the night, hyung?”

“Ah- she said her apartment was getting renovated.”

You raise your head, swollen eyes narrowing at Yoongi. “And my apartment is flooded because someone dragged me out.”

Yoongi raises a brow at Namjoon in surprise as you continue glaring at him. “Min Suga… no wait, Agust… what was I talking about?”

How on earth is it his fault that your apartment is damaged? Still, anger, even if directed at him, is better than a painful, hopeless depression. Yoongi learned that lesson years ago. “You were blaming me,” he says softly. How could he ever be upset at you?

“Right! Yeah, it’s all your fault. I’m mad at you now!” you say, pointing. Taehyung, who’s been hovering between sleep and consciousness all evening, snickers. He’s made a pillow of Y/n’s lap, and Yoongi, after quelling the urge to fling the vocalist across the room, sighs and chuckles to himself. He knows how much of a wreck your life has felt like lately – after all, you tell him practically everything. He doesn’t know exactly what happened tonight, only that you learned Xiumin was cheating on you. He’s glad that you have him and the other members to lean on. He remembers hearing your voice tremble and break in that message you left… “Yoongi, I- I need you. Please, something happened. I don’t want to be alone.”

Lost in his thoughts, he barely hears himself respond to you: “Whatever you say, Y/n.”

Yoongi watches you, still grumpy, poke a sleepy Taehyung on the cheek. “God, why are you all so hot?”

Seokjin snorts, and Yoongi sees Namjoon take a swig of his drink to cover a smirk. Blushing, Taehyung sits up and sticks his tongue out at you. Your mood switches instantly, and you giggle, scrunching your nose at Tae.

“Why’s he getting all the attention?” Hoseok, his cheeks red from the liquor. He, Jimin, and Jungkook have been trying to play cards, but none of their attention spans seem to last long enough to remember who played last. It doesn’t help that Hoseok is clutching both of your shoes in his hands.

“Sorry, guys!” You laugh, wiping your eyes. Yoongi doesn’t understand how you can still smile while clearly still feeling so much pain. “I’ll pay attention to you now.” You try to crawl off the couch, but instead fall onto the floor with a thump, knocking over the deck of cards. You pop up, reaching for an open bottle of vodka on the coffee table, and take a swig.

“She’s gonna have a bitch of a headache tomorrow,” Namjoon comments. Yoongi winces in sympathy, walking over to you as you hug Hoseok, Jimin, and Jungkook in turn.

“C’mon, let’s get you up,” he holds out a hand to help you up, but instead you take his hand and shake it with a giggle.

“Nice to meet you, Suga~” you chirp, still on the floor. “You’re pretty.”

Yoongi bites the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. He’s been trying to stay serious to allow you space to grieve, but you’re being so ridiculous, so adorable, that he can feel his discipline waning. “Why, thank you,” he says, chuckling.

“And Joon!” You say, turning your gaze upon Namjoon. “You’re pretty too. God, I used to have, like, the biggest crush on you, you know?”

The boys burst out laughing, Namjoon the hardest of them all. “You’re an honest drunk, aren’t you?” He says with a wink. “What do you think about Yoongi hyung?”

“O-kay, that’s enough, we should all get to sleeping.” Yoongi claps, distracting Y/n from the swift kick he delivers to Namjoon’s shin. The younger rapper grimaces in pain, but it morphs into a mischievous grin.

“Y/n, come sit with me,” Namjoon says, patting the seat next to him on the couch. You bounce up and Yoongi, for half a moment, sees red. Instead of settling next to Namjoon, you’ve chosen to sprawl across him, smacking your lips sleepily. He can’t remember the last time he’s wanted to become another person, but now it’s all he can think about. Almost without thinking, he grabs the last clean shot glass and pours himself a shot of his favorite sweet liquor.

“Speaking of sleeping,” Jungkook says, “Where is Y/n gonna sleep?”

“I can jussht take the couch,” you say, slurring a bit.

“You’re a guest, Y/n-ie. You can have my bed. That is,” Seokjin says, glancing at Yoongi, “If you don’t mind rooming with Yoong-”

Yoongi knows with absolute certainty that he wouldn’t sleep a wink if he were in the same room as Y/n. Besides, what if she wants to sleep alone, or she’s still mad at him? “Don’t worry about it, hyung – she can take my bed, I’ll take the couch.” He doesn’t feel tired at all, so being out in the living room will give him more of a chance to wander without bothering anyone.

“You’re both wrong,” the maknae says with a hiccup. “Why doesn’t she – hic – take my bed? I’m not rooming with anyone.”

You sit up, still on Namjoon’s lap. Yoongi’s eye twitches. Where is this jealousy coming from? It’s not the first time Y/n has acted this way, although she’s certainly bolder than before. He doesn’t know why tonight, it bothers him so much. “I’ve already said I’ll sleep on the couch, and I’ll throw my shoe at anyone that argues with me,” you say, your words clearer than they’ve been all evening.

Yoongi can’t hold back his laugh this time as he looks at Hoseok. “You already did, Y/n. Twice. I don’t know if you’re getting those back tonight.” He wishes he could be as confident a tease as his fellow rappers, but with Y/n… it’s probably best that his platonic intentions are clear.

“Aw,” you say, sticking your lip out in a painfully adorable pout. “Anyways, I’m sleeping on the couch. Goodnight!” With that, you scoot off of Namjoon, who’s still smirking at Yoongi, and push him off the couch. Grabbing the blanket that was lying on the back of the couch, you roll over and begin deep, exaggerated breaths, clearly pretending to be asleep.

“You heard the madam,” Namjoon says, stretching. “I’m off to bed. You guys coming?”

“Yeah,” Jimin mumbles sleepily. Taehyung grabs Jimin's arm to help himself get off the couch, and the three go to their respective rooms.

“I’ll stay here a bit longer,” Seokjin says. Jungkook nods in agreement, and Hoseok is fast asleep on the floor.

“I’ll hang out a bit too then,” Yoongi says. You’re stubborn in pretending to sleep; you’re so motionless it looks unnatural, with none of the twitches or sniffs of a real sleeping person.

“So how come Y/n’s apartment flooded?” Jungkook says with a yawn.

Yoongi thinks to earlier in the night, when you swung open the door with a blanket around your shoulders, your eyes shining with tears. Now that he recalls, he did hear the faint sound of running water when he drew you into his arms and out the door. Had you left something running that he’d distracted you from? Then it wasn’t just your drunk outburst – your disaster really was Yoongi’s fault. He blinks hard, a nervous habit from his trainee days. “I think she may have left something running.”

“Damn, been there,” the maknae laughs. “Remember when I tried to fill up one of those kiddie pools inside the house and forgot about it?”

“I couldn’t forget if I wanted to,” Seokjin replies with a sigh. “I thought Manager-nim would fire us on the spot.”

“Can you imagine? No BTS?” Jungkook asks, absentmindedly poking the sleeping Hoseok’s shoulder.

Can he imagine it? Would he still be Gloss, the underground rapper from Daegu? Would he have tried to make it as a producer, and sent other artists to the spotlight? Or would he have given up on music entirely, and be leading a life as an office worker?

“I have no idea what I’d be doing,” Seokjin says, interrupting his thoughts. “I suppose we’ll never know how hypotheticals might’ve worked out.”

“Mm. I think I’m heading to bed now. Goodnight, hyungs.” Jungkook leans down and picks up Hoseok in a fireman’s carry over his shoulder. The rapper, of course, stays sound asleep. Seokjin nods at Yoongi. “Let’s turn in?”

Yoongi casts a last glance at you. He can’t tell anymore if you’re awake or not. “Yeah, alright.”

With that, he and Seokjin walk down the hall to their shared room. Yoongi flicks off the lights, plunging the apartment into darkness.

In bed, Yoongi can’t sleep. That’s nothing new – he knows ARMYs love to joke about how he’s always sleepy, but it’s so hard for him to sleep at night that his daytime fatigue is constant. He can hear Seokjin snoring across the room. And you, you’re out in the living room.

Shit. Suddenly the air is stifling – he’s too warm, he can’t stand it. Cursing under his breath, Yoongi sits up and pulls his T-shirt over his head, falling back onto his pillow. It doesn’t help. His skin feels flushed, uncomfortable. Several minutes pass as Yoongi tries to keep his breathing steady, pleading with his own mind to turn off and let him rest.

His efforts prove fruitless. At last he groans and kicks his sheets off, standing. I should ask Manager-nim for sleeping pills. He pads across the hall, letting himself into his producing studio and settling into the familiar, comforting chair, reaching for his headset. The demos for his next mixtape are still loaded on the computer. Desperate for something, anything to occupy his thoughts, he hits Play and lets the beat pound in his ears. Immediately he zeros in on edits.

“I need to pause for another measure,” he mumbles, reaching for a pen and scribbling his notes down. “Ad-lib there. Stronger snare in the chorus.”

Another half hour passes in the same manner before he remembers that he still needs to actually sleep. Groaning, he leans back in the chair, rubbing his eyes. “Dammit.”

Eventually he gets up and opens the door of his studio, about to head back to his room when he notices movement down the hall.

Ah. It looks like he’s not the only one who can’t sleep. Yoongi smiles to himself and sighs, returning to his room to pull his shirt back on over his head.

You’re sitting on the floor, against the couch, looking out onto Seoul through the window opposite. Yoongi notices you’ve once again wrapped the blanket around your shoulders. Are you cold, he wonders, or is it more for comfort than anything?

He walks closer, his weight accidentally making the floorboards creak. You notice.

“Yoongi.”

Yoongi smiles to himself as he sits down beside you. How did you know it was him without even turning to look? “Hey, you’re awake. How are you?”

You lean your head on his shoulder, your cheek brushing against his collarbone, exposed by the loose T-shirt. Yoongi feels his breath catch in his throat. “I’m sad,” you say with a hiccup. “Is that allowed?”

Is it allowed? For a moment he feels like he’s talking to his former self – a younger Yoongi that was terrified of the monster inside of him, the one that made him despise himself. Was he allowed to feel?

“Of course it is, Y/n. I’d be surprised if you weren’t.” He hates seeing you like this, knowing he can’t do anything to heal your heartache.

Your voice sounds on the edge of tears again, and cautiously Yoongi reaches up to rub circles on your back like he saw Seokjin do. “You’re so nice. You really are the best, you know that?”

Yoongi snickers. He likes this honest version of Y/n, and in the dark it’s easier for even him to relax. “Of course I am.” He nudges you. “I’m the best at being furniture, apparently.”

You nuzzle further into him, your face now pressed into the nook between his collarbone and the curve of his neck. “You are. You’re like a soft floofy couch.”

Yoongi holds his breath. It’s for comfort, you just got cheated on, you need a friend to comfort you. He’s supporting you as your friend. Your cheeks are warm from the alcohol, but suddenly the warmth doesn’t bother Yoongi as much now. It’s several seconds before he can trust himself to speak without his voice wavering. “That’s good, Y/n.”

You sit up, breaking the spell. “Yoongs? I feel weird. Like, I’m sad, but…” you look away from him, your eyes glittering with the lights of Seoul below. In that moment, Yoongi feels like he could write a thousand songs. “I don’t feel sad for the right reasons.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m sad that I’m not sad,” you whisper, turning back toward him. You’re… much closer than before. “And I’m not sad because I have you.”

“Y/n,” Yoongi says, his voice barely audible even to his ears, “you know you’ll always have me.”

You lean closer, your eyes fluttering closed. Yoongi barely has a moment to notice how long your lashes look in the dim light before you’re pressing impossibly soft lips against his.

You’re kissing him. Yoongi can only thank his lucky stars that he was sober enough to remember to brush his teeth, because you’re kissing him. He barely registers it for a second, his consciousness somewhere far away, before: idiot. Kiss her back.

Remembering that he has arms, and that he can move them, helps as he wraps them around you and pulls you in closer, kissing you hard. He knows this isn’t a good idea – you’re heartbroken, drunk, and rebounding – but dear god, are your lips addictive. Suddenly Yoongi resents that breathing is a human necessity; this is so much better. You taste like soju and chocolate, and your mouth against his is so soft and full that Yoongi has to restrain himself from the urge to bite your lip. No, there’s something about this moment that’s too precious, too special, too magic to change. If he takes a breath or opens his eyes, the spell will break. He shifts positions so he can turn to face you completely, tracing his way up to cup your face in his hands. He’s never noticed, since he’s never had the chance, but your face fits perfectly in the curve of his palms. He smiles against your lips, entranced.

Yoongi doesn’t know if it was ten seconds or five minutes before you both pull away, and he sees a goofy smile form on your lips. “You’re amazing, Min Yoongi.”

All the self-control in the world couldn’t stop the blush that spreads across his cheeks, or the grin that follows. “You’re pretty great too, Y/n.”

You look like you’re about to say something else, but inside your muscles fall slack and you slump over, asleep. Yoongi catches you and carefully lifts you up onto the couch. As he spreads the blanket back over your sleeping form, he wishes for a second he were as strong as Jungkook.

“Goodnight, Y/n,” he whispers. You’re completely out, but breathing well. In the dim moonlight and glow of the city, you look practically ethereal.

As he tiptoes back to bed, the thought strikes him: What the fuck is going to happen tomorrow?

[emisfritish]

So no offense, but how can you make a post where you say Sarawat's not to blame for everything in that last train wreck of an episode. Especially when all the fandom agrees on something, you don't even see ur in the wrong then ? How delusional are you ?

Hi dear anon ! (I assume that in your eagerness to send me this message telling me how delusional I am, you forgot common courtesy, no biggie ;))

First- isn’t it interesting how messages that start with ‘no offense’ rarely come off that way ? Nevertheless, you’re one of four anons to send me messages about the subject of Sarawat in the last episode I assume following this post, so I’ll bite. This might get long, so I apologize in advance, and it will be my answer to all four anons, sorry.

I think it’s important to note that we’re watching the show through Tine’s perspective, so we know everything that’s going on in his head, we know how hurt and insecure he’s feeling, and we know how down he was this entire episode (and trust me, I was right there with you with my heart breaking for him basically the entire episode.) I do think though that because of that, we’re judging the situation based on what we know and not based on Sarawat’s perspective : 

To understand Sarawat’s perspective, I think it’s important to lay the context : he just came back from a trip where he poured his heart out to Tine and made it really clear (in his pov) how much he likes Tine and everything he did to get together with him, all the efforts he made. And because of that, I truly think he didn’t realize that Tine’s insecurities could be causing issues for a good chunk of episode 12, not until they talked openly about it. This is in no way blaming Tine either because truly, insecurities are a b*tch that you can’t control and it breaks my heart that he still doesn’t believe that someone could love him this much, that he’s not a placeholder. But here’s where I think Sarawat was at for a good chunk of the episode. I also believe that because people were (rightfully) angered by a few of Sarawat’s actions in the episode, those have kind of erased the way he behaved for 80% of the episode, which was supportive.

Sarawat realized that something was off with Tine in the very first part of the episode, and asked him to talk to him and reassured him about the fact that he was there if needed. When Tine said that it was nothing, Sarawat probably took him at his word, or thought that Tine didn’t want to talk about it. I can’t really blame him for either of those actions. And again in part 2, Sarawat realized that Tine was still off and when Tine brushed it off again, he insisted until Tine told him he had stomach ache, after which he immediately went to get him some medicine to help him. I know a lot of people had issues with the fact that Sarawat didn’t say anything when Tine stayed up all night upset and listening to music, and I can understand that. Here’s my take on it, of course that scene was heartbreaking because we know that Tine was upset, Sarawat however, just thinks that Tine has an upset stomach. Add to that the fact that Tine was wearing headphones, which could be taken as a sign that he just wanted to be left alone, I can’t really fault Wat for not saying anything then or staying up during the night. We reach the next morning and Sarawat immediately wants to stay to take care of Tine because he isn’t feeling well, he only accepts to go to rehearsal when Tine insists, and even after that he comes back early because he’s worried. 

Now we reach the one moment of the episode where I was actually mad at Sarawat : I was glad that they talked openly and Sarawat tried to reassure Tine that he wasn’t just a placeholder (a thought that hadn’t even occurred to him). But when Tine told him he stayed up crying all night and Sarawat just kind of made light of it, yeah, I was mad. I understand that he was just trying to lighten the situation, but I still didn’t like his reaction and wish he had said basically anything else than what he did. That being said, I also recognize that he’s a human being and he’ll make mistakes. So yeah, I didn’t like that scene very much, but I’m not going to cancel him for it either. 

I know people also had a lot of issues with Sarawat’s reaction when Tine sees him and Pam, and again, I understand a 100%. Here’s the way I see it : From Sarawat’s point of view, we’ve gathered that Sarawat liked her for a while and there was no sign of reciprocation, I don’t think the thought that she could actually like him now even crossed his mind until this very moment. So while I wish that Sarawat had reacted quicker and went after Tine, I do think he was just genuinely in shock. I also think that he was kind of in an impossible situation here : basically either follow your boyfriend because he’s rightfully upset about something that is a non-issue in your mind and ditch your friend who just poured her heart out to you and is obviously distressed, or the contrary. I don’t think either decision would have felt right, and it was kind of an impossible situation.

As to how I can think that way when most of the fandom doesn’t ? You’re right, it does seem that most of the fandom really disliked Sarawat this episode and I completely get where they’re coming from and understand, but I also think I’m entitled to my own opinion. We all watch shows and interpret scenes in different ways, and I just didn’t share the same interpretations. That doesn’t make any of the opinions less valid in my book.

Now don’t get me wrong, episode 12 was definitely my least favourite episode so far, and I really really wish they weren’t springing all of this on us in episode 12, leaving them very little time to treat the situation and resolve it in a way that will seem satisfactory. I’ll make my peace with it and see what they have waiting for us in episode 13, but yeah... I still wish it hadn’t happened that way.

That being said- I stand by what I said : I think this situation was shitty for every one involved, and that Sarawat unknowingly hurt Tine, which he definitely has to make up for (just like Tine unknowingly hurt Sarawat many times in the past btw). But these characters are human and flawed, that’s what I love about them, and I truly believe that this whole situation was caused by misunderstandings, insecurities and hurt feelings and I can’t really blame either Tine, Sarawat or Pam for it all, as unpopular of an opinion as it may be. 

I’ll stop there, but just a piece of advice which is valid for all four anons that I got- Leaving an anon message where you either call the person you’re addressing delusional/crazy or are a bit agressive is maybe not the best way to get your point across. I also hope I don’t need to explain the irony in the fact that you’re sending a low key judgmental/insensitive message to an actual person to blame a fictional character for doing the exact same thing you did, but yeah... the irony is definitely there.  

That being said, I hope you have a nice day and stay safe during this peculiar period we’re going through

[susoftjockau]

The Party - Part Seven

Looking at plants was the type to inflame a ravenous hunger. Well, anything can make one hungry, so this wasn't a new experience for him even with the new context to it. If anything, this was one of the less intense but pleasing moments in his life, where he could enjoy a meal without that lulling buzz of deja vu he kept having when it came to eating in general — veggie burgers, salads, pizzas, somewhere located with the cheerleaders with no care in the world; it was a pattern that he got used to quickly.

This time it was a bit different: there was a light squeeze in his chest, the kind that kept him warm like a fireplace even with the cold walk out of the park and the goosebumps riding his arms. It must've been Connie; he wouldn't lie that she had been a small crush of his ever since they met — it didn't help that this intensified because of that magical statue he touched a week before that, being told that it granted miracles of romance, which he was a sucker for. He could question why he had such an affinity for her but it was already there for him if he squinted hard enough. It must’ve been her warm personality. Or her intelligence. Or anything else for that matter that kept him focused to his jam bud, staying right next to her as they exited the Japanese grounds for some food.

They found the truck on the outskirts of the garden — wafting of spice and vegetable, dream catchers dangling from the overhang, makeshift tables harboring a few families and teenagers for the night. Some were talkative, but many appeared to be relaxing, enjoying the solitude as the truck took orders for plates and cups of Mexican cuisine, the clang and tussle of kitchen utensils resounding within in an enthusiastic beat.

Connie took account of the menu boards plastered above the truck's open grate, a small frown on her lips. "Do you think they have salads?"

Steven looked through the contents. There were tacos, quesadillas, customized cups of horchata, and everything in-between, but there doesn't seem to be any that would fit a description of a salad. He knitted his eyebrows, there was some case for worry here. "We could ask for non-meat stuff? I could take out the stuff if I have to."

"I know that, but," she bit her lip, flinching at a loud clang of metal from the truck's kitchen, "I have to make sure their meals don't have too many carbs or cholesterol."

Oh. He felt a bit ashamed for forgetting that one tidbit: that his jam bud had a diet stricter than his. "Wellll, we'll just see where it goes. One of these dishes must have a lot of vegetables, they’re bound to help us with custom orders; they sound like they'll be okay with it if it makes their customers happy."

"I hope so." She rubbed her arm, but after a second of it she pulled it back down, like the action burned her upon contact. "I don't want my stomach to act up."

"We could find another restaurant if that works for you."

"No, no," she shook her head. "I'm okay, let's just ask them and see if we have to move or not."

He nodded. Sounds like a deal. "Alright."

The ordeal wasn't that worrisome when it came down to it. There were a slew of questions over which dishes had the most vegetables, which one harbored non-meat ingredients, and the typical pondering of choices they could pluck from the menu, both of them taking jabs on what would be the best dish — Connie more weary on her end than his. It wasn't a nervous wreck of a deal, but he could tell something was on her mind, something fumbling around her noggin like a pest on a wall. He had the patience; he had the time, yet he didn’t want to ignore it.

"You feeling okay, Strawberry?" The nickname caught her off guard. They were sitting at a table, facing each other with their meals. Steven had picked from a platter of small veggie tacos, and she was nibbling at her burrito, sweet potatoes peeking through the salsa verde, teeth hesitant on digging into the contents. It was a quiet affair, but there was a tension in the air, something he couldn't describe, yet there nonetheless. "You seem out of it."

"Am I?" Connie put her burrito down, wiping a sauce smear from her chin. Her eyes were downtrodden, looking away from him. "Sorry, I'm just thinking."

"You could tell me if it bothers you." He put one of his tacos onto her plate -- a peace offering, he called it, the breaking of tacos, even if he didn’t really break it and kept it in one piece.

She gave him a sheepish smile, putting the taco back onto his set. "Well…"

"I promise," he did a criss-cross motion in front of his chest, "won't say a word to anyone."

"I know you wouldn't." She grimaced slightly. "I'm just nervous to say it."

"Well," he said. "You don't have to tell me if you're nervous but I promise you that no matter what, I'll accept what you'll say."

"You're so sweet." Her sentence seemed to take him by surprise. Even she seemed to be surprised, tone twisting into something unfamiliar. "But yeah, I'll tell you, if it makes things a little bit easier."

"Remember, Connie," he said. "I'm always open."

"Mhm. Just give me a moment."

At the sight of her quick bite at her food, he smirked at her. "How is it?"

"It's good," she admitted, cheeks brushed with pink. "Better than I realized."

He couldn't help his giggle as she started back up again, putting the burrito down.

"It's just that," she fumbled with her fingers on the table, biting her lip, shoulders tense under the weak moonlight. "I get anxious over these types of events." She stopped, looking at him with inquiry in her stare like she was waiting for him to react. After a second, he nodded. That was enough. "When your friends were around, I'd feel like I'm drowning, overwhelmed by all of it — two of them are okay, yes, but having all of them surround me and ask questions made me want to get away...or dissociate."

"Ah…" He tried not to take offense to it. Being truthful was better than just lying to him, but somehow it still hit him that this would be hard. He can't just place her into his friend group with one step, it wasn't that simple; people had to adjust in their own ways, pacing themselves to something manageable. For Connie, she couldn't handle a crowd with all eyes on her, he'll have to take it slow or he won't have his favorite people around unless he wanted a chance of her having a panic attack.

"Okay." He said, taking a bite from his taco, chewing slowly. He needed a moment to ponder. Think. What could help her? How slow was he supposed to go? Where should they start? "You said you could manage how many at a time?"

"Two or less." Her voice went higher. "But if you really want me to get to know them, then I can try anything as long as it doesn't make me anxious."

"But you don't have to befriend them if you don't want to." He reminded her.

"That doesn't mean I don't want to." She stated. "Back at the food table, I did have a conversation with one of them; it didn't pull me into a fit or had me wanting to leave, it actually felt nice." Before he could respond, she added one more. "I'm open to trying something with you, with them, but I'll tell you if it's too much, if I can't handle it."

A sharp inhale. "You promise that?"

"I promise."

"Okay. Okay." Think. Think. Think. She could take two or less. She was able to find stuff to talk about with them without being uncomfortable. He had the patience to guide it and she had the honesty to tell him if anything went wrong. He rubbed his chin; there was an idea, but he had to get it through her before he could think of it further. "What about one-on-one time? We could schedule hangouts with them so only you and one of the girls could get to know each other. I could be a third party so you don't have to talk much if it gets awkward!"

Connie stared at him, uncertainty in her eyes — the intrigue, however, was churning in them. She pinched the bridge of her nose. Mumbles strung out from her lips. "I don't think a third party would be necessary for all of them. There are some cheerleaders that harbor more of an outgoing and talkative personality than some I've noticed. I could handle them, the only ones I'm worrying about are the ones who might be too much."

"So...I'll only come if you need me?"

"Mhm."

Okay, he thought, a smile beginning to grow on him. They were making progress; they were compromising. If they could tinker with it more, they should be able to make it work. He spoke up. "We could make a list of who'll go first? I can give you a description of each one and what they like to talk about and you can rate them on who you're most likely to get along with."

"Yeah." Her face lightened up. An ease was there, finally. "Yeah, that can work!"

"Do you have a piece of paper? I want to write the list down."

"What if we just use our phones?" She fished it out from her pocket.

"Oh yeah,” he couldn’t help his embarrassed giggle. “That works."

Progress was being made.

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again no problem

difficult week, personally/professionally/politically/in the world

listening a good song never dies, van horn- i don’t know enough music theory words, but the driving guitar that comes in in the first couple seconds? good. love it. it has a sneaky but cool feel, like if modern james bond were american? i don’t really know what i mean by that bc i think that’s just the mission impossible movies BUT it has a cool, detached sound with a rougher edge. i think the chorus has my favorite lines:

Cause a good song never dies/It just reminds of where you were/The first time it made you cry/The first time you felt alive

reading finished but did not enjoy The Infinite Horizon, a modern Odyssey retelling by Noto & Duggan. didn’t quite jive with the pacing or art style, the setting in the hear future with a flooded nyc and lots of climate refugees in upstate new york that penelope has to deal with was interesting but wasn’t pushed far enough or used in an interesting manner.

watching

 the Dragon’s Dogma anime (netflix, 2020), whose opening credits have enormous Black Sails vibes. despite the many people in my life who love this game and have also told me “kay you would hate this video game”, i am shocked and appalled to find it has a standard video game plot. the only context i have for this franchise is the two-ep monster factory run. (SPOILERS FOR THE FIRST EP AND A HALF) man replaces dead wife with perfect blank slate magic no-named magic woman he names after dead mother, i said “no thank you!” out loud and closed my laptop.  

all dead wife plots would be infinitely more interesting if they were dead husband plots and here’s how i would rewrite this anime and game i know very little about:

pregnant wife survives, has to protect her young daughter who’s the only thing she has left of her beloved husband while forming an anti-dragon resistance group, turns desire for revenge into cold political fury

bc the dad rushing in headlong left such an impression on the mother she's convinced the only way to defeat her deadliest enemy is by first weakening it through politics and subterfuge/targeted assassinations against the dragon's political allies

the dragon doesn't actually have political allies this anime as-is isn't that complicated

flashback arc as the mother tries to gain political allies, where we learn how the dragon came to power: complex targeted campaign of burning certain duchies/kingdoms/key towns to the ground in order to get others in line,

the beginning of the show when the husband died was the very old dragon deciding to go on one more fire and brimstone campaign for funsies, like an old general going out to lead one last battle

dragon’s seneschal or main spokesperson or whoever is a hot witch lady under thrall or some shit bc she sought power from the dragon and it backfired spectacularly

daughter is basically emily dishonored, trained in the art of sabotage and assassination, mother uses her as a scalpel in order to maneuver the counties/kingdoms surrounding the dragon’s lair to stay out of the way of them killing the dragon

an effort that will be led by the daughter, who will probably not make it out of the spearhead effort to weaken the dragon by flooding the lair with ??? magical Greek fire or some shit?

daughter’s lover, who has been off researching the magical equivalent of Greek fire or some shit to use against the dragon, comes back with the goods and pleads with her to choose her/life/hope over almost certain death while fighting the dragon

the dragon dies the night before the daughter is about to assassinate it! she finds the dragon dead in a gigantic lavish set of a cavern of gold and skulls and shit!

struggle in power vacuum! what does a new order under no dragon look like! what’s the mother’s fucking purpose any more and what does she do with all this power she’s accumulated under the shared banner of killing the dragon! do they lie and say they did actually kill the dragon? how do the daughter and her lover fix their relationship! how do the MOTHER and her adult daughter deal with their new relationship???

WHERE DID THE DRAGON’S HOT WITCH SENESCHAL GO AND WHAT IF ANYTHING DID SHE HAVE TO DO WITH THIS. WHAT HAPPENS TO THE DRAGON’S HOLDINGS AND STAFF

season two babey! political maneuverings in the background of a murder mystery bc now the daughter wants revenge on the person who stole HER revenge and also, from her point of view, wrecked her relationships with her mother and her lover for nothing!

please god someone hire me for some sort of well-paying job bc i've made this simple revenge plot infinitely more interesting while high off my ass on benadryl

playing animal crossing continues to be a balm. gotta pick up a couple hundred acorns to make a cool table and chairs set. not a lot to say about this real simple game that’s a quiet delight. i feel like that was a lot of text all at once have a pic

making curtains, bc the light/window/curtain situation in this apartment continues to be abysmal. these two printed panels i’ve been terrified to cut into have been in my possession since the first time i came back to college. my boss at the time did a lot of networking and traveling, and she was given these at some point by someone. sensing the latent feral textile energy within me or something, although she probably just wanted to clear out her office a little bit, i got these along with a bunch of other shit that has since come to its useful end. but these two panels have been with me through half a dozen moves, and now they’re curtains.

i do not think they are the sort of religious textile a white person shouldn’t own, to the best of my research they are somewhat generic touristy souvenir fabric, but i would be interested to hear otherwise and fix my mistakes, bc i have not cut into them just made some very deep hems. they are printed slightly askew, so my regular perfectionist “pick a warp or weft thread and pin along that line” doesn’t fucking work but i mostly had room for nice finished seams. this fabric is a touch heavier than quilting cotton but lighter than a linen sheet, pretty tightly woven, a little shiny, and i would be reluctant to wash these since in the process of hemming quite a lot of the dye has come off on my hands. didn’t hem the selvedge edge bc i can’t be fucking bothered. here is an abysmal picture, i am very proud of my precise measurements and how nicely they line up. they are a little bit of a weird size proportionally speaking for this room, but they stay out of the way of the outlet and the heater, they go with my bedspread, and that’s what i really care about. if you think i’m gonna fucking iron twelve square feet of curtains you are wrong 

[jayjay547]

SHIELD's Best Podcast and Other Things Bucky Should Not Have Done: Chapter One

Summary: Bucky Barnes: natural poet, amateur author, and relationship expert. The last part was a heavy exaggeration, but he's fooled enough people into thinking so; after all, his advice was held to such high regard that he got a spot on one of New York City's most popular podcasts. He even liked to think he was revolutionary for helping break down the stereotype of relationship experts being perfect at handling relationships. If only someone had asked him for advice on how to deal with falling in love with two different people who were coincidentally in love with each other.

Not that it would have mattered, anyway. Bucky never followed his own advice.

Chapter Word Count: 3,309 words

Relationship: Sam Wilson/Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes

AU: Modern/College

click here to read on ao3

click here for the masterlist 

Bucky didn't ask to be famous. 

Not that he was in the normal sense of the word. No one in New Jersey knew his name, much less anyone on the West Coast. Actually, most people in New York City probably didn't know who he was, but that was okay. He liked to think the people who mattered (meaning people within a half mile radius of him) knew who he was, at least a little bit. 

If one was to go up to a college student about to go into their first lecture of the day at New York University and asked them whether the name "Bucky Barnes," or "James Buchanan Barnes" if it was a day for formalities, rang a bell, the most obvious and common answer would be along the lines of "that writer boy." Not "that failed mechanical engineer," not "the one who can't do any type of science to save his life," and definitely not "the boy who cried in his car while eating ice cream after his ex-boyfriend dumped him." Especially not the last one, even if that particular low moment was just the beginning of his rise to fame. 

He also wasn't quite famous enough to get stopped while walking through hallways, unless it was by an older professor of his; even then, it was a reach. As he walked to his class, nobody really gave him a side glance. He liked to think that the people who did were somewhat appreciative of his looks, but that was wishful thinking, the thinking of someone who was still in the rebound period of getting over a relationship even though the break up was a year ago. 

When Bucky walked into his poetry concentration class, though, he knew more than a few people recognized him. There was only one picture of him that was published with his writing, a professional headshot and all, and while Bucky looked like a wreck most days in his life, it wasn't hard to put two and two together. 

He sat down on one of the benches, shuffling the papers he brought with him around, just to look like he was doing something. Not long after, there was a tap on his shoulder. Bucky braced himself for his first fan interaction of the day (and the month, but he wouldn't tell you that). 

Turning around, he was met by a face that was somewhat familiar to him, even if he couldn't place the name. Maybe she was a fellow writer, or something of that sort. Her blonde hair was tied up in a low ponytail, and the wrinkles near the bottom of her forehead suggested that she spent a hell of a lot of time frowning. "What's up?" Bucky asked, angling his body towards her as best as he could. 

"Are you James Barnes?" Her tone was blunt, the voice of a woman who did not mess around. If she wasn't in his class right now, Bucky would think that she was a Business major. There was always the possibility that she was a double major, but that was a bit excessive. 

"Yes," Bucky said, before quickly (and clumsily) adding, "But I go by Bucky." 

"Bucky," she parroted, as if the nickname was much too personal for her. Maybe it was. "That's from your middle name, right? Buchanan?" 

Up until now, Bucky hadn't had any stalker-type fans, and he was hoping that he would keep that record. Of course, his middle name was published with his work, but still, it was odd. "Yes ma’am,” he responded. 

The woman stuck out her hand, and Bucky shook it. She didn't seem fazed by his gloved hands, and he appreciated the lack of questioning around why he was even wearing gloves inside a warm classroom. “My name's Sharon,” she said. Her handshake was firm, practiced, and Bucky wondered again whether she was in Business. “You're the one who wrote the open letter, right? ‘What's Wrong With City Days?’”

She was much too put together to be a stalker, but who the hell actually knew the title of his first published piece? Bucky didn't even know some of the titles of his own works. “Uh,” he said intelligently, “Yeah. Yes, that's me.” 

Sharon put her hand on the desk in front of her, tapping at it for a second or two, drawing attention to her perfectly manicured nails. Bucky wished his nails looked that nice. “Well, I've read your work, Bucky,” she sighed out, as if it was a tragedy that had happened to her. “And I thought it was superb.”

Maybe she was a little too put together; Bucky wasn't sure he knew anyone who used the word “superb,” much less anyone who used it to describe his work. Stalker wasn't off the list yet. “I'm glad you think so,” he said slowly, before slapping himself mentally. He was being rude. “Sorry, I'm still not used to people reading my stuff. Specifically that piece.” Bucky winced, his mind going a hundred miles per hour. “Kinda wish people hadn't read that piece.” 

Sharon leaned forward, closer to Bucky. “Why not?” She asked gently, taking him by surprise. She looked sincere enough, and he wished he could tell her, but then the door opened. As the professor walked into the classroom, Sharon straightened up, sitting back into her seat, and Bucky took that as his cue to face forward. 

Why not? The question stewed in his head as the professor Mr. So-and-so, who Bucky had missed the name of, promising himself that he would just read the syllabus, started to drone on about basic topics. 

Why not? Maybe because it was around the time he found out that Brock Rumlow had been cheating on him throughout the entire duration of their relationship. Maybe because, right after that, he realized that he couldn't pass any of the classes meant for engineering. Maybe it was because he had then been notified that he had to go in for another round of surgeries on his arm. 

There were a lot of reasons why “What's Wrong With City Days?” hurt. But he had still published it, as a dramatic and overly emotional person does. Correction: Natasha had published it, but only after Bucky told her she could. 

He had written it in between the first and second operation on his arm. The hospital TV didn't play anything he was interested in watching, and staring downwards at his laptop while it played Netflix gave him a headache he couldn't bear to have. So he wrote. And he wrote. And then he napped, woke up, and wrote some more. He may have even written when he was high on anesthesia, which Clint told him didn't make much sense. 

Getting pieces of metal inserted into your arm was apparently the best motivator there was.

He stared ahead at the professor who continued to talk, the words passing through Bucky's head quicker than the man was saying them. It was only the first day of this class, and Bucky knew he would have catching up to do.

His phone screen turned on, placed next to his binder and all his messed up papers, a notification popping up. He swiped it. 

Spider Mom

Walk Lucky when you get back. Ty 

Bucky coughed quietly under his breath to disguise the laugh he felt bubbling up his throat at Natasha’s bluntness. He texted back a quick confirmation before clicking his phone off. Behind him, a pair of eyes bored into his back, so much so that Bucky swore he could feel it. When he turned back, Sharon didn't even disguise the fact that she was looking at him, smiling slightly at him when they made eye contact. As embarrassed as he was to admit it, he looked away first. 

The minutes ticked by as Bucky entered a staring contest with the right-facing wall. His phone lit up a few more times, but he didn't check it. The one portion of exposed brick was getting more and more interesting by the second; Bucky was convinced if he looked at it any longer, he would have enough ammunition to make another viral poem. 

And then suddenly, the lecture ended. Most likely, the end wasn't as sudden to others as it was to Bucky. 

While Bucky was scrambling together the papers that he had put on his desk for nothing, the quiet sound of footsteps coming up behind him alerted him that Sharon was still here, and still interested in talking. 

“Where do you go after class?” She asked briskly, and what was left of Bucky's “Stranger Danger” alarms went off in his head. Against his best interest, he answered her.

“I walk over to Martinelli's, the coffee shop. Do you know it?” He added as her lips tilted up into a half smile at the name. She nodded slightly.

“You could say that. Let me walk you over?” She asked kindly, but something told Bucky that it wasn't really a request. He could obviously say no, but something about her compelled him to accept.

“I could always use the company,” Bucky muttered back, stringing his bag over his right shoulder. Together, they walked out the classroom, and after a few more steps, they entered the outside world.

“So,” Sharon said immediately, as if the cold city air allowed her to talk freely. “I have some questions.” 

“Uh,” Bucky got out. He had only done one interview for his writing, and he had prepared so thoroughly for that one, only for half of his words to be taken out of context. “Go for it.” 

Something that Bucky realized very quickly was that Sharon walked very, very fast. He widened the length of his strides, huffing cold breaths of air as the woman started to speak, barely sounding out of breath. “Do you know what SHIELD's Best is?” 

Bucky's heart skipped a beat, and not because he was struggling to speed walk. SHIELD's Best: the most popular podcast in New York City, not just NYU. There was no real reason why it had the renown that it had; listening to it, though, was explanation enough. If the topic was relevant, it was covered. Bucky even swore multiple times to Clint and Natasha that the podcast covered things that weren't even out yet. They never lingered on the same topic twice, and there was something for everyone, it seemed. It was his source of news, and the source of news for most people in the city. The defining part of it had to be that the four speakers all had undeniable chemistry, not to mention that they also had very, very nice voices, especially the two men. 

“Wait,” Bucky said suddenly, stopping in his tracks. Sharon slowed down with much more grace, turning to face Bucky in the middle of the slightly crowded sidewalk, a smile on her face as if she was already anticipating his question. “Are you Sharon Carter?”

She laughed, and Bucky felt a swell of pride for being correct, followed by a torrent of embarrassment for their entire conversation up until now. “I'll take that as a yes, then,” she murmured, and Bucky forced himself to move towards her as she started to walk again. Sharon Carter, one of the speakers on what was possibly one of the most influential podcasts, was walking with him to a coffee shop. 

The multiple shops passed by as they walked in silence for about a hundred feet, or something like that, which Bucky appreciated. It gave him time to collect his thoughts, and there was a lot to collect. After they passed a few more signs, though, Sharon decided that enough time was given. 

“So you're aware that we have guest speakers?” Sharon asked, and Bucky tripped. At least, he almost did, but he corrected himself right away. He couldn't wipe away the humiliated red that stained his cheeks, though. 

“Yes, I'm aware,” he said, stringing his words together as carefully as possible. He refused to mess up whatever was happening before it even happened. 

“Well, Bucky, we want you to guest speak about your writing,” Sharon said smoothly, as if it wasn't the biggest (positive) thing that had happened in Bucky's life. “I will say it was sheer luck that I have the same class as you this year, but don't think this is just a convenience grab. One of our speakers, Steve, really likes your work.” 

Bucky turned red again, which was not the best look for him, but at least he could blame it on the cold. Steve - amazing, supposedly kind-hearted Steve with a voice that Bucky would die for - liked his work?

It was only after they walked a few more steps that Bucky realized that Sharon was probably waiting for more than a lovesick look from his face. “Yeah, uh,” he got out, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I'd love to. It'd be an honor,” he finally said, and Sharon smiled again. Maybe she could sense his sincerity, as wrapped up in his awkwardness as it was. 

“Sounds good, Bucky,” she murmured in reply, slowing down. In a daze, Bucky realized that they had reached their destination. Out of pure habit, he moved to open the door. It was only after Sharon thanked him and went into the shop that Bucky remembered that she had only said she would walk him there. Once again, anxiety threatened to overwhelm him, his brain piecing together every possible bad impression he had made on the woman. 

“Hey Sharon. Hey Bucky,” was what the two of them heard upon entering the shop. Sharon immediately waved to Bucky’s (kind of) employer.

"Hey Angie. I was just walking Bucky over here," she threw out casually, gesturing vaguely to Bucky, who was still trying to figure out why Sharon was familiar enough with Martinelli to call her "Angie." 

"Cool, cool. Didn't know you guys knew each other," she added, her eyes darting between the two of them. Bucky could have said the same thing back, but his mouth had a tendency to betray him, so he kept it shut. 

"Just met today. So, Bucky," she stated, all professional, "Let's exchange numbers and you can let me know when you get back home so we can discuss times when you're not busy."

Bucky took her phone hesitantly, starting to type in his number as he spoke. "Actually, I live above the shop." 

Sharon's eyebrows went up. "Really?" Bucky nodded as she continued, "I actually haven't met any of the others who live here." 

She had to stop confusing Bucky. His head couldn't take much more thinking. Why would it be a surprise that she hadn't met them? Sharon mistook his blank stare and silence as disdain, adding quickly, "I'm not planning on meeting anyone else today, so don't worry about introducing me." 

"Oh no, it's fine, I was just..." Bucky muttered, handing back her phone carefully. "Thinking. I was just thinking." In front of him, Sharon opened up her messages, clicking the new contact he had made for himself, sending a text. In his back pocket, he felt his phone buzz, but for her sake, Bucky made a show of taking his phone out and checking to see whether he had gotten a text. He had, and he quickly created her contact. 

“So,” Sharon started again, sliding her own phone back into her pocket, a movement that mirrored Bucky's. “We usually record on Saturdays. Does that work for you?”

Bucky nodded, wordlessly, which was an appropriate enough answer for Sharon. “Alright, good. I'll send you some stuff about it later. Basically, you're allowed to pick any piece of work that you would like to share, but let me know which one by tonight. I will then send you a rough outline of questions that will be asked, but try not to practice answers. It's more engaging if it doesn't sound like you're reading off a script.” 

As much as he tried, his mind was still struggling to wrap itself around the information that Sharon was calmly relaying, as if she had practiced it multiple times over, but just enough to still be natural. Her smooth way of speech had to be attributed to the fact that she was on a podcast; Bucky refused to believe that people were just born that charismatic. He nodded again, barely remembering to answer her. 

“Alright,” she said, checking her watch. “I have to go. I'll text you later. It was wonderful meeting you, Bucky.” Her voice was honest, sincere, as was the smile on her face. It was contagious, and he let a small smile slide onto his face as well. 

“It was nice meeting you too, Sharon,” he replied back, just as sincere, earning him a flash of teeth in Sharon's smile before she made her way towards the door, only stopping to give a quick goodbye to Angie. Even after the bell on the door stopped ringing and she was past the sight of the windows, Bucky kept standing there, frozen to the floor. 

“Hey man,” came Angie’s hesitant voice, and Bucky made a small sound of assent to declare that he had heard the woman. A few more seconds without a reply, and Bucky turned around slightly, just enough to see her in his peripheral vision. “Clint mentioned to me that he wanted you to take out Lucky?” 

Bucky groaned, but it was the reality check he needed, at least.

- - - - -

When he finally came home from the long walk, he entered through the back entrance of the shop. From personal experience, bringing the happiest, friendliest golden retriever in through the front of the shop would take from Bucky about an hour of his life. Bucky and Lucky (yes, they rhyme) clambered up the stairway to the small upstairs area with two doors across from each other. The door on the left was closed, signalling to him that Wanda and Pietro, the siblings that lived there, were not home; Wanda liked to leave the door open when she was, claiming it helped with “air circulation.” 

He opened the door to the right, simultaneously leaning down to start loosening the harness around Lucky. For his efforts, Bucky got a slobbery kiss on the cheek which he took in a stride. Closing the door behind him, he unleashed Lucky, who made a beeline for his water bowl. Bucky collapsed on the one tiny couch, leaning his head back on the top of the cushion so he could stare at the plain popcorn ceiling. 

Almost immediately, his phone buzzed. Letting out a long sigh, he fumbled for the phone he had thrown clumsily onto the couch, blinding swiping on the notification once he felt the phone in his hand. 

Sharon 

Saturday, 1:00 pm. Don't worry about eating lunch beforehand. 

Also, let me know what piece as soon as you can. 

He read the text again and again in his head. For the hundredth time, he clarified to himself that it was PM and not AM before making ten alarms for Saturday, starting at ten in the morning and ending at noon. Immediately after, he returned to regarding the messages again, only glancing away to make eye contact with Lucky, who had decided that the only rational thing to do after drinking water was drool on Bucky's leg. 

“Well bud,” he muttered, reaching out to scratch behind the dog's ears absentmindedly. “I'm really doing this, huh?” 

Lucky just stared at him, which was a good enough answer for Bucky to send a quick reply to Sharon, confirming his attendance and assuring that he would, in fact, pick a piece of his writing by tonight. 

“It's just a one time thing,” Bucky said to the rest of the room. “It's a breakthrough, but it's only a one time thing.” 

masterlist

[bluejaytaco]

Some More DND w/ Jay

So last we left off, Mrs. Red was now back in her dragon form and about to wreck our shit. Because we are such low levels and probably couldn’t do any real damage to her as is, the DM had us all level up to 20. And this is how he explained how he did it.

Theodora: (Heard the voice of Bahamut and was granted his power for one last time)

Hennessy and Wreybar: (The powers from Theodora bounced off her to ignite the powers in them)

Koejin: (Sees her god in the far off distance and gets the taste of her favorite liquor on her tongue. He salutes her with a glass and she is infused with power)

Art: (feels a strange tingle from his Ticket Master hand. The mouth on it opens up and he’s engulfed by blackness a la Venom-style. This, apparently, really pisses off Red)

Alabaster: (still has the powers of two gods fighting over him. Pelor and Seraphine are both telling him to choose, but both grant him the abilities)

Greta: (throws both Vincent and Reita in a building behind her. They are out of the battlefield, but still pretty close to Greta)

We start the fight with a little bit of a struggle as all of us learn about our new abilities. At the rounds start, Alabaster moved away from the group to be closer to Red in order to cast a spell. But this put him away from Theodora which (because paladin) gave everyone a 5+ every time we have to save or skill check.

So, when Red went to intimidate everyone, Alabaster was the only one afraid. She swipes at him and he sees that her claws don’t look right. Like she’s decaying.

We all went on to attack her, as expected. Art got a pretty low initiative roll, so I had time to figure out what I was doing. I ended up using black tentacles to restrain her, then gave Wreybar inspiration, because a bard’s gotta buff someone.

Me: Can I also send a message to Reita?

DM: Nah cuz you already did your bonus action. But you can roll for perception. (I rolled pretty well) Okay, so, you can see Vincent and Reita inside the building through the cracked door. Vincent is holding her back and she is watching you, but she looks scared. Like a little kid.

Art: (immediately wants to get over there and to get Greta away from her.)

Red also shouts over at Greta to get off her ass and help. But, before she can even move or finish her “sorry!”, a black mass comes out and engulfs her, trapping her in a black cocoon.

Alabaster tries to cast a spell to protect us all from fire. (smart because, you know, fire dragon.) Pelor, possibly trying to kill us all, changed it to lightning protection. Again, Seraphine sighed and told Alabaster he has to choose.

We go another round where Red hits us with quite a bit of fire. Art automatically gets only half damage due to being a tiefling, but it’s pretty tough on everyone else. (Art then takes to healing everyone because I always end up being a healer at some point lol. Honestly, if I didn’t want something like this to happen, I wouldn’t have become a spellcaster.) 

One of Theodora’s moves was pretty much a radiant light on Red which starts to burn her and burn at Art’s tentacles. This burn apparently looks the same. (Tells me Red and Art have quite a bit in common...)

Then Hennessy. Possibly the best move that’ll ever be done.

He freezes time, sets what is essentially a mine near Red’s foot, turns himself into an ancient white dragon, unfreezes time, and blasts Red with ice. She then moves and sets off the bomb which causes even more damage.

(Hennessy at some point made a pun about scales, because dragon. Koejin’s player then said she just stares up at him for a second and walks off the battlefield.)

Red: (looks up at Hennessy in shock) (speaks in draconic) I thought... I was the only one of our kind still alive... How? Why are you here?

Hennessy: (can speak draconic) I’m here to right the wrongs.

Red doesn’t see past it. She sees him as a full dragon and not as Hennessy.

On her next turn, Greta hatches from her cocoon and is now completely engulfed in the black. She stretches as a little top hat appears on her head and makes the horrible Task Master groan.

She then moves to Wreybar and starts to absorb part of her soul into her. This buffs her up a bit.

After seeing this, Alabaster casts Divine Intervention.

(Alabaster’s Player: (describing it as pretty much summoning God.)

Theodora’s player: This sounds pretty badass.

Me: This sounds like a decision.

Alabaster’s Player:... yeah, it is.)

Alabaster: Everyone! I have decided! (Turns around and smiles up) Hiiii!

Seraphine appears as a giant black shadow to everyone but Alabaster and Art (because they’ve met him before) The mass moves to Red, who was knocked prone by this point. Before she can attack, he grabs hold of her tongue and rips it out of her mouth. She is then overtaken by blackness herself and also gets a little top hat. She rears back and looks at everyone with a smile.

Red: Why, hello friends! 

We all just kinda stare in shock as Ticket Master Red moves up and stretches.

Ticket Master Red: Ohhh, it’s so nice to be out again!

The dragon eggs we all had then start to hatch and, for a moment, imprint on each of us. But then, Ticket Master tsks and goes “Well, that just won’t do. I’ll be taking them.” All the little baby dragons’ eyes turn black and they fly over to him. They are now his minions.

Alabaster: (shouting up at Ticket Master) Now, I say, Ticket Master! You return my child to me!

(Although he didn’t really react to it, I could see Ticket Master just looking at Alabaster in amusement.)

Task Master Greta: (Sees Ticket Master and immediately tenses) ....no... you can’t be me... I’m me...

Ticket Master Red: Oh no. You see, now you get to know what I felt. (Moves over to Task Master and lifts a paw) It would seem... you are fired. (He slammed his paw down on Task Master, effectively crushing him)

The powers reflecting off of each other cause a rip in the world and a portal opens. It destroys the building that Vincent and Reita are in. For a moment, Vincent tried to keep a grip on Reita but she ultimately gets sucked in, along with Wreybar’s axe. A large black mass that is Ticket Master and Task Master also goes into the portal. (Or, at least, that’s what I gather from it..)

Hennessy, still in dragon form, dives in and circles himself around Vincent to keep him from flying to the portal, like Reita. Wreybar ran in to get her axe, and Art dove in after Reita.

Koejin gets a glimpse of her god, waving her to follow after them. Koejin turns to Theodora and says “Come on!”

When Theodora goes to follow, she is shot back. The portal closes shortly after. Hennessy and Vincent are clinging to each other. Theodora and Alabaster are looking over the field where there is a collapsed Red (Still alive, just unconscious) a most likely dead Greta, and half of the party gone. The feelng is very clear.

Now what?

Meanwhile, the portal opened up and out fall (in this order) Wreybar’s axe, Wreybar, Art, and Koejin. All of them land in a pile with no sign of Reita or the two gods who opened the portal.

Art immediately scrambles to get to his feet and search for Reita only to then notice they’re surrounded by tieflings. Two tieflings push through to see what’s happening. It’s Art’s parents.

Dad: Art? (He runs over and hugs his son) What’s going on?! What happened?!

They’re back in Universe B.

(Context: Universe B was another Acentria we were sent to in order to get Ticket Master’s sword. In this one, we are all Red’s generals and she was actually pretty stable mentally. But the world also seems to be in shambles because of something worse than Red and the city of Calor (Red’s worship grounds; comprised of tieflings) is one of the only safe places. Art’s parents, while heavily abusive in our Acentria, seem to be stable as well and pretty loving. Still, Art’s not gonna know how to handle affection from the same man that used to beat him. Also, abusive dad was torn apart by Reita when they reunited last. So, this is not the world for Reita to be wandering on her own...) 

[thestoryofhiccstrid]

HICCSTRID ONE SHOT: NIGHTMARES

So today is a very very special day!! Indeed, it's the birthday of my bestie @foreverandalwayshttyd , and I wanted to write you a little something sweetie ♡ I really hope you will like it, even though it will never be as good as I wish it could since you deserve the very best! Love you lot, you make me the happiest and I'm beyond grateful to have you! AND HAPPY BIRTHDAYYYY GIRLIE!!! I WISH YOU A YEAR FULL OF HAPPINESS, UNFORGETTABLE MEMORIES AND LOVE <3

Now, as for the context, it's taking place in rtte, after season 3 episode 5 :) I'm so sorry for all the mistakes I've made (hopefully not too much!!) Enjoy :D

☆☆☆☆☆

Astrid couldn't stop turning around in her bed, and her hut had never seemed so nerve-wracking and scary. There was sweat dripping on her forehead and her temples. It seemed to her that the bedroom was burning and that she couldn't do anything to make it stop, to put an end to this agonizing heat.

Her heart was racing, as if he was threatening to get out of her rib cage at any moment. Her headache and her arms shaking did not help to realise her overwhelming urge to find a normal breathing again and a less blurred view. She just could't focus on anything else than herself on the brink of death.

She was about to cry, and she hated that. Indeed, she couldn't cry just because of a nightmare! She was a strong and fierce girl, undoubtedly fearless! She was Astrid Hofferson for Thor's sake!

Well, even if she was repeating to herself this anchored thought of her, her shivers wouldn't stop, just like her heart pounding. It looked so true, she could feel the huge pain of the Scourge of Odin all over again, and it was simply so exhausting.

Suddenly, she heard someone knocking on her door boldly.

_ "Astrid, you forgot your knives on the table of the central pavilion. I ... I wanted to give them back to you... Can I come in?"

She immediately recognized the familiar nasally voice of Hiccup that she liked more than she would admit, always shy about her increasing feelings for him that were quite scaring her about how deep they were, and the last thing that she wanted was him seeing her being a total mess.

Since he didn't get any reply, he soon started to worry and decided to knock again, the want to make sure that she was okay devouring him.

But still, no reply at all.

_ "Astrid? Astrid! Are you okay?" he said, his voice full of concern for the girl that, only a week ago, caused him the fear of his life, but also the same girl that was always the main character of his craziest dreams (that may or may not include a passionate and all so desired kiss), since... well... since as long as he could remember.

_ "Yes, don't... don't worry Hiccup, I will take them tomorrow. But thanks."

She felt so guilty about not opening her front door to her... best friend? That was what he was to her, right? Or maybe more? No, what was she thinking about! And even if she had developed feelings for him, which is clearly not the case, would it be mutual?

She didn't know anymore... Another thing she wants to figure out, since there were so many different feelings rushing in her heart at the same time whenever his cute face full of freckles was in front of her. And his bright emerald eyes, those that looks at her like nobody else do, and that definitely were her weakness. She could litteraly get lost into them.

She thought for so long that he was just her best friend and nothing more than the guy who share with her the taste for adventure, the guy that completely changed her opinion about dragons and war, the guy the most awkward yet cute she ever met, the guy the most caring and protective and faithful to his convictions, and attractive...

By Odin! Did she just admit to herself that she found him attractive? Her?? And meaned every word she said, if not more???

She was so not the type of girl paying attention and importance about looks, but she had to admit that Hiccup was no longer a pretty boy with a sweet smile. No, he was so much more than that.

She just didn't want to put words on it, so afraid that it might reveal her obvious feelings for him, her uncontrollable want to be with him, to make him understand how much he means to her, how much she couldn't picture herself waking up without seeing his usual grin with his adorable crooked teeths, or his excitement about a new exploration that obviously imply rescuing dragons (and she wouldn't want it any other way).

How much she couldn't imagine doing any mission without him, get some sleep without saying him goodnight, eating if she was not sitting on her usual chair because then she would have to deal with the twins stealing her food or worse, having Snotlout teasing her about how she can't live without him.

How much she cherishes every single thing that makes him him.

She didn't know how long she had been lost in her thoughts, but she was unquestionably really shocked to hear him again, testifying that he was still here and that he won't give up. Why she's not even surprised? He's definitely stubborn when he wants to, and she also deeply love that part of him. As most as she find his determination heartwarming, her flushed cheeks and her dilated pupils clearly don't want to confront his gaze, not now!

_ "Astrid, I don't want to appear intrusive or anything, but I feel like you was trying to avoid me today... Did I do something wrong? If it's the case, I'm so sorry! You know I'm here for you and that you can tell me anything and... yeah I really hope you're okay after everything you've been through this past few months. I... I miss spending time with you..."

That was it. She couldn't take it anymore. She let hot tears rolling down along her blushing cheeks, trying her best to choke her sobs. She felt so weak, so vulnerable, so fragile at this very moment.

And him, he was so nice to her, so receptive at any move she make, at any tone of voice she use. He was always there for her, exactly like he said, making sure she feels alright, happy and surrounded, offering her all the support she could wish for and even more than that.

And her? What did she do? What did she do to deserve this amount of goodwill and kindness and this unstinting support ? Was she really losing her self-confidence?

She obviously didn't wanted to be an emotional wreck. She had to believe that those horrible nightmares will come to an end with all her might!

Thus, she wiped her tears with determination and decided that the bravest thing that she could do right now was to open the door to him. After all, if there is someone in this world that won't judge anyone, it's him for sure.

_ "Hi Hiccup! Don't you worry, you didn't do anything wrong, like at all! Hum... Well... it's not you that have to apologize... I mean, I don't know where I would be without you... you litteraly saved my life and I can't think of a way to thank you enough, to repay you... I am so sorry, I didn't wanted to hurt you!!!"

And with that confession out of her chest, quiet sobs returned in spite of herself.

Instinctively, he pulled her against his chest, wrapped his arms around her waist and cradled her delicately while drawing gentle circles in the small of her back.

She immediately relaxed and put her head in the crook of his neck, taking the time to breathe his woody scent, which reminds her so much of the forge and all the hours of work he spends inside. Everything became more peaceful and bearable. It was as if this place in the hollow of his arms was meant for her. It felt like home. The precise place where she can be herself, and she was definitely overwhelmed by love right now.

She opened her eyes and dared maintaining his gaze but what she found was no longer determination. It was without a doubt hesitation.

_ "What is it? Are you feeling uncomfortable about this?"

_ "What? No! No, no, no, no, no! It's just... argh!"

_ "It's just what?", she replied, squeezing his hand in order to encourage him to continue.

_ "Forget it, it's not that important anyway", he answered, trying to avoid her gaze.

_ "What happened to you?"

_ "What are you saying?"

_ "We promised to always tell each other the truth!"

_ "Are you telling me that I'm lying to you?! Seriously Astrid?!"

_ "Up to you to convince me otherwise!"

_ "Is it the lack of sleep that makes you say things like that?"

_ "WHAT?? Say that again to see!!!"

_ "I'm just saying that I'm not hiding anything from you Astrid! But what about you, huh? You haven't told me anything lately!"

_ "Okay, well, what do you want to know?!"

_ "I don't know! How are you feeling, why are you avoiding me, how do you manage to make me feel so insecure about our friendship..."

_ "Our friendship? You question our bond?!"

_ "NO! OF COURSE NOT! It's still not my fault if everything you do makes me doubt!"

_ "I don't follow you... doubts about what??"

_ "About us!! I... urgh! I just... I just... let me show you"

Without another word, he crushed his lips againt her own, and both of their hearts skipped a beat. He said he wanted to show her, that's what he will do. He cupped both of her cheeks, leaned a little more and tilted his head a little for having a better angle to take control.

Her lips were so soft, so perfect, so addictive! He felt like he was in heaven. He took the time to memorize every new sensation, every little sigh and moan, exploring every inch of her divine lips who had become in a quarter of a second his favorite place of all time, as if they were meant to be pressed against him own.

Paying attention of any possible sign of reluctance, he definitely felt more alive than ever when she answered fervently, wrapping her arms against his neck, which send shivers along his spine and made him groan of pleasure.

She even intensified the kiss, brushing her lips against his own languorously while mobilizing an infinite tenderness at each new meeting, full of anticipation.

They kissed with passion until they were forced to part to catch their breath, which they did grudgingly.

He scanned her face and found an Astrid grinning from ear to ear, with cheeks flushed red and pupils blacker than ever. As for him, his blissful smile and the soft tingling on his lips were the proof that he only wanted one thing: repeat this delightful moment as many times as she would allow him.

_ "This sounds kinda familiar" she said, her eyes sparkling and focused on his reaction.

_ "I think I'm definitely more comfortable when I directly show you what I mean. Note that this time I didn't throw you on a branch" he admitted with a teasing smile.

_ "I think so too, and I appreciate it, really", she confirmed, letting out a chuckle that made his heart melt instantly. He wished he could hear her laugh on repeat.

_ "I'm so sorry Astrid, I feel so dumb to have waited this long! I was so scared about losing you, I- I..."

_ "Shhh.. that was amazing! You are amazing Hiccup, and if there is someone who must apologize, it's really me! Wanting to repress my feelings was propably the worst idea I ever have! The only thing holding me back was the fear of ruining our friendship, and I would never have forgiven myself if that had happened! But I definitely want to be more for you" she confessed, eyes filled with hope.

_ "And I definitely want you to be your boyfriend, you insomniac", which earned him a light punch in the shoulder, but it was all worth it because what followed made him feel high, as if he was able to touch the sky, and this time, Toothless wasn't there to make fun of him (but he'll catch up eventually).

[clarkgriffon]

(wrong opinion anon 😁) Don't worry I'm not offended, I would've responded in the same way if I felt the way you do. I guess the hug was just too short for me idk. I'm used to the clinging hugs from Bellarke lol

You’re definitely not the only person feeling that way, there were some replies on the ask you sent agreeing with you. And I don’t know that I can convince you or anyone else otherwise, because I know once people have an opinion, they tend to be firmly set in it, but I can still at least share with y’all why I am loving Bellarke this season.

It could get lengthy, so I’m going to throw it under a cut.

I figure this is a good place to start. “They’ll come around.” This was the first thing that hooked me with Bellarke this season. Because not even ten minutes into the first episode, we get confirmation that Bellamy himself has already come around. And there are clearly still hurt feelings there (on both ends), but he’s the one person who doesn’t need convincing to forgive Clarke. He does it like it’s second nature. Forgiveness is their thing. (Which is implied further by the BE scene later in 6x01.)

This next. We’ve never gotten to see Bellarke smile at each other like this. E V E R. And don’t get me wrong, I love Bellarke smiles, but they’re usually muted, understated things that make light of a dark situation. Like, “Some medicine would be nice.” or “You distract him, I’ll shoot him.” or “Mama bears don’t think.” They know they’re fucked, so they joke about it. The closest one to how big and wide these smiles are is We Will Rise, when Clarke and Bellamy almost crash the rover, but that’s a smile of pure relief. They aren’t smiling just for the heck of it.

These smiles are special because they don’t need an instigator from an outside source. It’s not relief, or fear that’s causing them to smile at each other. It’s just the two of them. And just to paint the broader picture, they talk about the radio calls here. You know, what we were waiting for all of Season 5 and didn’t get a semblance of anything close to it until 5x13? Yeah, that was addressed in the first episode. And we know that after four episodes, it’s still not done being talked about. It keeps coming up because it’s imperative to Bellarke’s relationship.

This is a little more subtle, but the keys were a detail I loved. Clarke kept Bellamy’s key. Clarke. Why not Echo, arguably the person he should trust the most on the planetary exploring mission? She’s his girlfriend and he lived with her six years. Same goes for Emori, minus the girlfriend part, but he should explicitly trust her. Okay, but they weren’t in the same room and we’re going to ignore the implications entirely of why Bellamy and Clarke had to be stuck in the same room even though that’s even more proof of the writers feeding us. But what about Murphy? Again, six years in space. Bellamy is the one to continually tell him he isn’t useless, to have faith in Murphy. But when it boils down to it, he gives Clarke his key. Clarke, who left him in the pits. He still, after everything, trusts her more than anyone.

Now, I’ve gone over this more in depth before, but Red Sun Rising including the line “I don’t need you anymore” from Bellamy to Clarke was extremely telling. I don’t want to rehash the whole thing here, but you can read that meta if you want at this link. The synopsis is that the eclipse-induced psychosis prays on fears, like Clarke’s fear of losing Madi or Emori’s fear of being heartbroken by Murphy. Bellamy says he doesn’t need Clarke because he’s afraid that he does, and she left him in the pits. If he needs her again, he’s afraid she’ll break his heart again. And just look at her face, she’s terrified, even before the toxin hits her, that he’ll break her heart. She wants to be able to be there for him.

“We’ll bring Madi back. I promise.” Now, we’ve gotten a lot of focus on Clarke leaving Bellamy in the pits, but weirdly none on Bellamy chipping Clarke’s daughter. This was the rectification for that. They threw in an exact parallel to 5x08/9, except this time, Bellamy keeps his promise. And it means the world to Clarke. She can finally trust him fully again.

The separated Bellarke for just one episode. Not a longer separation like it usually is when one of them leaves. Suspiciously, Clarke gets a big dress reveal while Bellamy is not there to react. ‘Nuff said.

Now, before we even get into the hug, let’s dissect this conversation. Bellamy has - from episode 1 of S6 - already made it clear he’s willing to move past Clarke’s S5 mistakes. But Clarke still feels the need to atone because she’s that distraught about leaving Bellamy behind. She wrote it on her lantern. Yes, a girl who has committed/helped commit multiple mass murders to protect her people regrets nothing more than leaving behind a boy who didn’t even die. And Bellamy, bless his soul, wants to avoid this conversation like the plague. This whole episode has a focus on Bellamy being confused about how he feels and it starts with this conversation. We haven’t seen Bellamy express any confusion about his feelings this season until after Clarke tries to apologize and hugs him. A catalyst for Bellamy to have deeper thoughts? Maybe.

And Clarke says “You’re too important to me.” She admits it. She calls him family, something he actively excluded her from last season. This triggers something in Bellamy, because he’s gotten used to keeping Clarke at a distance and protecting himself because he thought she didn’t care. And, of course, the radio calls proved that she did, but that was before he came back. It doesn’t have to mean anything. But now, she’s admitted he means something to her in the present, the current moment. And he’s confused as fuck about it.

Now, let’s actually analyze that hug shall we? You’re on the money, it’s shorter than usual, but I don’t think that’s necessarily bad in context. Because this hug, as beautiful as it is, is unnecessary. They’re hugging just because they can. Think about it. Other Bellarke hugs have a catalyst. A reunion: 2x05 - the running hug, 5x04 - the “And now you’re home hug.” A comfort: 4x13 - Clarke doesn’t get the chance to say goodbye to Abby. A forgiveness: 3x13 - Bellamy agrees to move on, to grant himself and Clarke forgiveness. 

But isn’t this a forgiveness hug, too? No! As I’ve mentioned, Bellamy already forgave Clarke. This entire conversation is initiated on Clarke’s end to give her peace of mind about what she did, it just so happens to stir up confusing emotions in Bellamy. But it’s not the monumental forgiveness of 3x13 because Bellamy hasn’t been angry with her since they got to Sanctum. He forgave her in 5x13.

And just the body language- Clarke does her signature smile of relief while hugging Bellamy. Bellamy looks confused then relaxes into it, relieved, furthering the narrative he doesn’t quite know how to feel when it comes to Clarke. 

Now, this is the one I’m going to give a point to you for not being sure it’s romantic. I can see how this one, more than the others, is confusing. This isn’t seething-with-rage jealousy. I’ve discussed with with some other and it’s miserable jealousy. I think it’s mixed with Bellamy’s confusion, he doesn’t want to see Clarke dancing with another man and he doesn’t know why, he just knows it makes him sad. 

Right after this, we get the B/E fight and Bellamy snapping at E/cho. His reasons are Monty, Harper, and Octavia. But none of those situations are immediately relevant. What is relevant? What is the ONLY other thing we’ve seen in this scene? Clarke dancing. Bellamy admits that he has no clue how he feels and he says it’s about Monty, Harper and Octavia, but why now? Why in the club only after he’s seen Clarke dancing with someone else?

And I’d be wary about this too, because when I first watched, I wasn’t even sure his line of vision matched up with her. How could we know he was watching her? Upon rewatching multiple times and the flashing between Clarke dancing and Bellamy watching, plus the way the camera pans, it’s clear he’s watching her dance.

All of this and more is why I’m loving Bellarke this season. And I understand frustration that it’s not like the early days because it isn’t. It can’t be. Season 5 wrecked them to a point I thought it could even be beyond repair, but Season 6 is showing that it can still be repaired. They’re not going to immediately fall back into pre-Praimfaya patterns because they’re not those people anymore. But the feelings, the care is still there and THAT is what Season 6 is showing.

Yes, there’s an emphasis on reconciliation and forgiveness, and addressing feelings because it’s necessary. Without it, they’re back where they were in Season 5, not understanding who the other person is after such a long time. They’re falling back into sync this season, not just with their feelings, but also as coleaders, which we see in Clarke being a representative for their people and in the way they lead in 6x02, giving each other their keys.

And what am I most excited about now? Bellamy’s gonna lose her again. I know that sounds bleak. But Bellamy’s focus on confused feelings in 6x04 are setting this up. He’s gonna know exactly how he feels when he loses Clarke again. He doesn’t want to accept the feelings he has for her (proven in 6x02), he wants to be in denial (6x04). But when he loses her again, he’ll know. Josephine!Clarke is going to bring out that Season 1 Bellamy, where a switch will flip and he’ll do whatever it takes to get Clarke back, consequences be damned, the same as he’d do it for Octavia in Season 1. I’m thrilled about the direction this season is going.

To anyone who’s not: that’s okay! You don’t have to be. I hope you can enjoy the show for what it is. I think this - all of it - is relationship setup and romantic setup, but hey, that’s just me.

[dat-town]

CODE Z3RO | CODE 05

characters: BTS & Red Velvet genre: thriller, futuristic au warning: none other than grief, guilt tripping and not so nice words thrown at each other’s heads summary: The twelve most ambitious and promising university students are welcomed in Choego, the world’s first entirely artificial intelligence-driven city, to compete for five job contracts that could change their life. But what if something goes wrong? What if they get trapped? What if the city suddenly turns against them? Can they find a way out before the countdown reaches zero? words: 5K tagged: @philosopher-of-fandoms​

➼ Chapter Index

A heart-wrecking, loud cry came from the distance.

Yerim couldn't tell whom it belonged to, it could have been her for all she knew. Around her there was nothing but deafening silence and bright white stars in her vision. She had become cold and numb to the call of her own name. She barely registered when someone grabbed her firmly by the arm to pull her farther from the bloody handprint on the glass door. But even when a lithe body covered her eyes, she couldn't unsee it. She would never be able to forget the horrific sight that carved itself deep into her mind, leaving behind such an unerasable imprint that she could never get rid of. This was what nightmares were made of after all.

Jungkook just stood there deadly still, watching as Wendy sneaked a comforting arm around Yerim, pulled her up to her feet and walked away with her. She acted as collected and professional as one could be while all of them were confused and shaken up by the recent events. Merely 5 minutes earlier Seokjin had been yelling at them to leave but now he laid there in the pool of his own blood. His handsome face was ruined by the burgundy liquid flowing from his ears, eyes and nose. Jungkook had seen things like this in movies but it was happening right in front of him felt even more unreal than stupid B-category horror movies from Hollywood. It was almost too much to process that it really had happened but he certainly wasn't the only one feeling that way. Hoseok was vomiting somewhere in the corner at the first sight of seeing blood. Joohyun was so pale she looked like a ghost on the verge of fainting and quiet sobs were ripped off Seulgi too as she turned her gaze away.

“What the hell happened? How could he…” The words died on Namjoon's tongue as many eyes, including Jungkook's, shot up at him. He couldn't finish the sentence, there was no way he would say the words out loud. It would have made it too real, it would have meant he accepted it while without fail everybody was confused and shocked. They just saw someone, a rival, an ally, a brother die right in front of their eyes. How could they have gone on like nothing happened?

Jungkook gulped and glanced down again, foolishly hoping to see the slight stir of the immobile body. It was in vain though, hopes couldn't bring anyone back to life. The bloody strikes, those unnatural tears had left behind on Jin's cheeks were still vivid red under the artificial light and Seokjin's glassy eyes bore into distance in a more morbid manner than Jungkook could have ever imagined, it was truly a sight that would haunt them all for sure.

It was the sound of a door slammed open, metal colliding with brick as the handle hit the wall that startled them all enough to finally move when Yoongi's robust voice echoed in the basement.

“Get out of there! The lab is dangerous!” he yelled not even suspecting that it was already too late. But how could he know? How could he be so sure that it wasn't safe? Where were he until now to get that information?

Questions flooded the young engineer student's mind and his legs moved by themselves following the crowd out of there on instinct. It was the same bandwagon effect that made everyone follow him downstairs. Sticking together had never been such a bad idea before. But playing with what ifs based on the tons of variables of the situation only made his head hurt and was useless like crying over spilled milk.

He was the last one who reached the top of the stairs and he flinched when Yoongi shut the door behind him with a loud thud. The IT guy and the chaebol one who had disappeared a while ago now were both eyeing them suspiciously but it was Jimin who spoke up.

“Why the hell do you all look like someone just died?” he snorted not grasping the seriousness of the moment and not even understanding the rudeness of his own words.

It was the elder guy beside him who let the quiet question fall from his lips.

“Where is her brother?” Yoongi asked, pointing at Yerim who was wailing oh so heartbreakingly into the crook of Wendy's delicate neck.

Each gaze avoided meeting the interrogator's, they rather turned away, glances shifting to their own shoes. 

“He...” Namjoon found his voice but was quickly cut off by the lilac hair Marketing major who seemed the least affected out of them.

“He died,” he blurted out straightforward, not sugarcoating his words at all. There was no humour in his voice and one dark look was enough to freeze that nasty, cunning smile on Jimin's face. “Smartypants here thought it's a good idea to check the labs and that other idiot tried to open a door when it obviously closed for a reason.”

Taehyung pointed his finger at them, first at Jungkook and then Hoseok. While the former looked away guiltily, the latter raised his voice at the accusation.

“What the hell did I do wrong? I tried to save him when nobody did anything!” he argued but the truth was nobody knew what was right or wrong anymore. The bracelet should have opened the door like it had done for the first time, they should have been able to pull him out and whatever had killed him could have dissolved in open air before infecting their bloodstreams too. 

“And kill us all with whatever made Mr. Team Leader bleed everywhere?” Taehyung shot back a question, the raw sarcasm bringing the worst out of him.

“It's not his fault, nobody knew,” Namjoon tried to reason as calmly as he could but Hoseok wasn't that self-controlled and was on the younger already, grabbing him by the collars of his shirt, gritting his teeth.

“It's a freaking hospital, who would have thought there are poisonous gases in the basement?” he spit into his face, mouth turning into an ugly grimace not caring about the audience. Nobody has seen this side of the Sociology major before. He seemed a rather peaceful kind of guy but he and Taehyung clashed way too hard since the beginning and it turned out one remark was already enough to trigger this aggressive reaction in him.

Though, the Marketing student didn't even budge. He looked like he expected something like this to happen with that annoying smug grin on his face. There was a devilish glint in his coal dark eyes and only then Jungkook realized that he might have known just as much about people's reactions as a Psychology major because of his studies and maybe he knew manipulation techniques the best out of all of them.

“I have been saying from the beginning that it's an everybody for themselves kind of show. Teamwork, my ass!” he scoffed, rolling his eyes not even making a move to peel Hoseok's hands from himself, it was the other guy who gave up with a sigh and the look of disgust on his face.

Around them the others were whispering and yelling over each other about poisonous gas, someone accidentally spilling or opening something they shouldn't have but they weren't closer to the truth. They couldn't be sure what triggered the shutdown of the room and why there were no warning signs about it. Even though unlike Taehyung everyone else was more invested in figuring out the reason rather than finding someone to blame, Jungkook couldn't help but feel targeted. He was the one who had suggested to go downstairs, he was the one who hadn’t paid attention to Yerim thus Jin had had to go back for her. Was it his fault? Since when was it his task to take care of stupid teenage girls? Or was it rather the generosity of Seokjin that killed him?

Kill… such an absurd verb, it indicates purpose and active behaviour on the subject's part. But weren't they all killers one way or another driven by their own selfish ambitions?

“So you are saying Mr. Know-It-All just… died?” Jimin gaped at the group still processing the new information. It was almost painfully funny, he still smugly called others by mocking names instead of the real ones while they were talking about life and death.

However, in the silence there was another, weak voice that came to the surface. It was almost too quiet to be heard but everybody shut up at the girl's first words since what happened. 

“No, that can't be. This is all part of the simulation, right? He didn't die, he's too smart for that. It must have been planned,” Yerim mumbled with voice wrecked and eyes still watery from tears, face red and bloated from crying so much. She straightened her back looking around seeking reassurance in empty eyes.

Denial, Joohyun noted as she watched over her, the first phase of grief. During her internship at a Family Help Center she has met a lot of clients who suffered after losing a loved one. She knew very well that each person reacted differently to loss and not everybody could be boxed into a textbook-like model. Some overcame it easier and faster, maybe even skipped stages while others lingered on each step longer than they should have for the sake of their own sanity. Context and circumstances mattered a lot and Joohyun couldn't tell yet whether Yerim would be able to handle the loss and accept the truth within a reasonable time frame. From what she had seen so far the youngest girl had had a very strong and close relationship with her brother, so a mental breakdown was more likely than anything else. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to let her think it was just the simulation. At least it wouldn't have messed with the team dynamics.

Joohyun let out a shaky breath and walked to the weeping girl. She should have done that long ago, if she was more selfless and empathic she would have but she wanted to rank well in this simulation and she had already made a stupid mistake when she forgot about her insulin. It was Wendy who had helped her with that and now the Med student took care of the grieving girl too, so Joohyun felt like she owed her this, to offer a helping hand when needed.

“Let's take her back to the canteen, so she could sit down and drink something,” she suggested barely audible. But Wendy heard her just right and nodded. She turned around to tell her boyfriend about it. Namjoon didn't look happy about being separated but since all their staff was also in the canteen they had to go back eventually either way.

Having an arm around her shoulder and waist from two sides the elder girls started leading Yerim through the hallway following the signs back to where they had come from.

“It's all my fault,” Yerim whimpered body shaking even more fracticly now that she moved and vivid flashbacks kept disturbing her mind. “If... if I moved quicker... he wouldn't have to come back for me… I–”

Guilt, another stage of dealing with loss, Joohyun noted and didn't look back at the boys playing Sherlock.

“Our bracelet holds information about our health status, they might send an ambulance,” Namjoon spoke up in a helplessly hopeful voice and it stirred up unwanted feelings in the others. A few unconsciously touched the metal object stuck onto their waist like second skin, a grape vine curling around its branch.

“What for? It's not like they can do anything about it.”

Of course it was Taehyung who voiced out what everyone knew. It didn't look like anyone could save him at this point.

“They might think it's broken or that he took it off,” Hoseok wasn't that hopeful either. As a sociology student who had participated in his fair share of researches he doubted the leaders would give up after the first bump in the road. A project like this took too much time and effort to just give up on like that.

“But they are watching us with cameras,” Jimin reminded them and pointed at the flashing red point on the ceiling. “They must know about it. They should stop the simulation.”

It would have been too good to be true. Too easy to end it like this after months of preparations for making this simulation work but Hoseok didn't want to ruin their hopes, he didn't want to stand on one side with the Marketing major.

“What if they don't?” Namjoon wondered out loud. With his engineering background he could imagine countless scenarios of things going wrong. “I mean we can't be sure how much the electricity shutdowns could affect the camera network.”

“It would be a pretty shitty system if  it fell apart just because of that,” Yoongi commented drily and well, he was right.

Choego was supposed to have one of the most advanced technologies in the world. If the short circuit in certain zone's electricity supply was really a part of the simulation, then it shouldn't have affected the other zones or even the cameras no matter where they were. In any case, there should have been an extra generator to make sure it didn't cause too much trouble. A smart city couldn't function without electricity, so if it was him, Yoongi would have planted a rebooting system in each zone. So either it wasn't well-made or they switched it off for the sake of the simulation. Maybe it was their job to switch them back? At least this was his wild guess.

“It's working within the building for sure. We just saw. That's how we knew you were in the basement,” Jimin butted in but bit into his lower lip. Even though he didn't see the group's eldest taking his last breath and a part of him was skeptical as he doubted he really had  died, the others' reaction seemed genuine, so he didn't comment on it. They must have really believed that what they had seen was real but it wasn't impossible to trick our brains. Optical illusion existed for a reason. Not to mention that the labs had a glass door, a key item for magic tricks. What if the researchers really wanted to make them believe it was a life and death simulations? What if they just wanted to shake them up?

“Speaking of which, where were you?” Namjoon turned to them curiously. As a vanguard of the belief that it was better to stay together he didn't get why the other two had to disappear.

“In the offices, trying to find some cue about the sector blackouts,” Yoongi shrugged explaining. He almost told them about the conversation he’d had with the artificial intelligence but wasn't sure how the others would have reacted, so he played safe. Jimin didn't correct him either. “According to the computer the city really shuts off the sectors one by one. The brain of the city, the main computer will be the last one standing.”

“So you think we need to get there.”

It was an easily drawn conclusion, so the IT guy just nodded.

“Yeah.”

“Cool and how? It's not like we can use a GPS or Naver Maps. This city basically doesn't even exist yet,” Taehyung snorted and Hoseok wondered whether he was ever satisfied because all he heard from him for either offences or complaint. But it shouldn't have been that surprising. After all, those who are not useful at all are usually the ones whining.

“I have a picture of a city map but it's not detailed enough,” Yoongi pulled out his phone and showed them the picture he had taken in the office earlier. It really wasn't helping much but it was still better than coming back empty-handed. “But at least the evacuation plan's arrows on it show that we have to go East to get to the bridge. That can be Plan B.”

They all knew going to the bridge, the only exit of the city, was the same as giving up because it was impossible the researchers wanted them to leave. It wasn't like one of those stupid escape games they used to play on old computers. There must have been some obvious purpose, a goal they had to achieve but they had to figure that out first. Because without it they were tapping around in pitch black darkness looking for clues.

Maybe the main computer had all the answers they needed but how they were supposed to find it?

“Hey wasn't that journalist girl taking pictures all the time? Maybe she shot something actually useful,” Jimin managed to come up with a decent suggestion. He remembered seeing the young girl looking around as if it was a school trip while he himself was busy taking selfies and updating his social media about his whereabouts just to show off how important he was.

“Her camera must be in the canteen with our other stuff if she brought it with herself.”

They all agreed it would be better to check in case it turns out to help them. They had nothing to lose with it, just a bit of their time. The group of seven started walking towards the canteen not saying any other word. Funnily it seemed like they were even fewer than that because neither Jungkook nor the quiet girl, Seulgi, didn't say a thing this whole time. Maybe they both were too shocked by what happened. To be honest, Yoongi wouldn't have even noticed the girl if it wasn't for her mumbled apology to the sulky Taehyung while in fact he was the one who bumped into her and not the other way around. She was like a ghost, letting silence envelope her and Yoongi wasn't sure whether it made her weak or smart.

When they arrived to the buffett area where the three girls sat by a table, two of them comforting the still quietly sobbing Yerim. She was far too out of it to comprehend the question when they asked about her camera, so Jimin decided to fuck it and took it without permission. Nobody scolded him for acting impolitely as they all anxiously waited for the pictures to load. When they actually did it was like reading a travel magazine except the unreasonable amount of pictures of the silhouette, side- or back profile of one certain boy.

“See? I told you how lovesick she is!” Taehyung scoffed while Jungkook stepped back. Seeing himself on those pictures that had been taken without his consent felt like invading someone's personal space and not just his. Even though a part of him was flattered by the attention, he never really liked to stand out like this, he wanted the glory for his accomplishments and not for his looks.

“Well that was totally useless,” Hoseok sighed but Yoongi beside him rolled his eyes. What did he accept? A huge sign saying main computer room on one building or what? He believed the pictures could be useful still, just maybe later.

“In the main research building there must be some clues about where we should go,” Namjoon brought up another idea and if Miss Han worked there with her people then most likely he was right. Even if they wouldn't get clear clues, even something small could have helped them at this point where they were more lost than anything.

“Probably, but first we should check if it's safe or not. We can't be sure of the sectors' order, maybe it's already shut down,” Yoongi said quietly and started pulling out something from the laptop bag resting on his shoulder.

“And how do we do that genius?” the Marketing major grimaced.

“I can connect to the network and check the cameras,” Yoongi challengingly raised an eyebrow at the arrogant guy waiting for further heckling remarks. When he didn't get any he put his notebook down on a table and with a circle of curious people around him he turned it on.

Except maybe Jungkook, Namjoon and Jimin, none of them really got this technical stuff, so when a black terminal popped up and Yoongi started typing long green codes, they didn't even try to understand what was going on. At one point the computer demanded a password and the IT student typed in the series of numbers engraved into his bracelet without thinking. Taehyung was actually surprised it worked but he didn't voice that out. They all gaped at the computer screen when suddenly sixteen small camera view appeared on it under the label Sector 1.

“Whoa, that's so cool,” Hoseok exclaimed finally getting a little of the delicious taste of victory and watched closely as Yoongi switched between sectors by typing out short commands. However it was tricky to tell which ones were down because the morning sun has already lit up the entire city.

“Can we go back? To the 4th sector?” Jungkook spoke up for the first time in a long while and his voice held so much fear in its trembles that everyone was taken aback. Yoongi fulfilled his request without a world and zoomed in on the camera Jungkook pointed at.

It was a snippet of the researchers’ dorm which resembled their own very much but on contrary of the emptiness of sector 3’s dorm this one was full of people… people with pained, puffy and purple faces on the floor.

“Wendy…” Namjoon breathed quiet and scared.

“What?” the med student looked up and walked over to the bunch when nobody answered. Not knowing what to expect her gaze darted down to the screen.

“Oh my god,” she shrieked averting her eyes and clasping a hand over her mouth in horror.

“Is this what I think it is?” her boyfriend turned to her, offering a comforting hand, stroking her back but Wendy didn't even flinch like she didn't even feel his touch. The sight of dozen strangers lying dead on the dorm's floor when they most likely woke up in the middle of the night to not be able to breathe properly was like the haunting image of war victims scattered over streets in their on blood with disfigured limbs.

“This is how people die from insufficient oxygen,” she said remembering her studies but it didn't make it easier to accept the tragedy. Or the realization that it could have been them if Yerim didn't wake them up.

“Do you still think it's just a simulation? Because I don't,” Yoongi muttered under his breath, staring at the screen of his computer dreadfully. It was a loaded question, a gun to their heads and some realized what it meant sooner than others.

“Does this mean Sooyoung is also...” dead. Jimin didn't even have to finish. Everybody knew what he meant.

Behind him Jungkook felt like dying too, his own cropper blood tasted like metal in his mouth. He didn't know but a lot could kill a soul. Like guilt.

In a way they were all already dying. And what for? A dream job and dream life in a city based on artificial intelligence?

“I think I know why the sectors are shutting off,” the IT guy blurted out suddenly, voice strained and low. Nobody dared to ask why even though they all anticipated the answer which he gave to them after swallowing back his own curses. How could they not realize it earlier? “Remember what Han Raina said about the Louvre move?”

The sectors would be switched off the electrical grid one by one… to trap the attacker...

“But… but didn't she say it happens due to a hacking attempt?” Wendy furrowed her brows recollecting her memories from yesterday. Gosh, was it really just the previous day? It had already seemed decades away, so much happened since then.

“Or maybe someone started the process manually,” the IT major mused out loud and the possibility he mentioned pissed Taehyung off again.

“Are they trying to lock us in?”

“I guess so. They probably wanted to test us to see if we can find a way out, to see if their security system works accordingly but something must have gone wrong,” Namjoon nodded as the simulation started to make sense to him. However, there was no way the researchers were ready to sacrifice lives, especially their own for a social experiment like this.

“What do they think we are? Lab rats?” Jimin made a disgusted face, his voice clearly giving away his offendedness.

“In a way we are, you could say that,” Yoongi agreed and a lot of them envied the neutrality and stoic way he approached this topic. Or was he just rational enough to understand the difference between what they could change and what they couldn't. 

“You know what? I don't care. I had enough of this stupid game. I'll call father to get me out of here. It's ridiculous. Locking us in,” the chaebol scoffed, quieting down word by word until they were muttered under his breath, barely audible. He didn't hesitate to turn his back on them to grab his own stuff and stride towards the exit.

Taehyung spat coward his way disguising it as a cough but little did he know it wasn't cowardice that made the Genetic Engineer student leave. He simply had too much to lose. Back in Seoul he had everything a young adult could have wanted, he had a future set in stone, the promise of a high manager position and the heritage of the CEO chair and millions on his bank account. He didn't want to risk all that for a badly planned simulation.

Maybe it was the same for Hoseok too, his girlfriend waiting from him back home was a more convincing argument than staying here for a possible job. But he justified his choice with something very different.

“There's no way I'm going where that jerk goes,” he exclaimed, gaze shooting daggers at Taehyung's figure and he threw his bag on one shoulder before rushing after Jimin.

Everyone else sat or stood in complete silence and watched them go. This time, nobody tried to stop them, to prove it was so much better to stay together. They said nothing but knew well there was nowhere else to go. They were all in this murderer cage together.

[goldenworldsabound]

Star Tinted Confession

The moment you’ve all been waiting for...takes place after the Thanksgiving fics (1 ,2, 3). Philly and Wendy go stargazing.

Philly was pretty certain, after that little Thanksgiving episode, that she liked him back. She had to, right? When he thought about it rationally, he knew it had to be true. And thinking about being with her made him into the softest pile of goop he'd ever been, which would have been off-putting to him if he hadn't been so busy enjoying it. But as soon as he considered asking her out on a date, or making it clear in any way that his affections for her were romantic-

His heart pounded angrily and he felt like he'd puke.

But he also couldn't bare to go on the way they were going on, acting like nothing had happened, because something had happened, and now things were a little awkward between them-

He couldn't do it. But he couldn't make his feelings clear either.

He was paralyzed.

He often drove when he was stressed. It helped him relax and think. He found himself parking the car without realizing where he'd driven to. He furrowed his brow. This was...he jolted upright as he realized he'd driven himself to Wendy's place. He came here so frequently he was doing it without making a conscious decision. Great. He groaned, putting his head in his hands. Fine. Whatever. Maybe she was home. Was this weird? It was probably weird.

Despite these thoughts and the nervousness that was beginning to wrack his mind already, he forced himself to walk calmly over to her door. He held his closed fist up to the door, turning his face aside, grappling with whether or not to knock. He forced himself to relax his shoulders. He knocked.

The minute or two he waited was pure agony. What if she wasn't home? What if she didn't hear? What if she just didn't want to be bothered? Or worse, she saw it was him and decided not to open the door-

The door opened and he sucked in a quick breath.

"Oh! Philly! Hi!" She smiled at him, a hint of pink on her cheeks. Philly almost forgot to breathe, distracted by how beautiful she was, even just in a simple sweater and pants.

"H-hey." He replied, putting his hand on the back of his neck, the other sliding into his back pocket.

"Um...I don't think I was expecting you? O-or was I and I forgot?" She tapped her fingers together nervously.

"Oh, no, no, I didn't- I mean, I just kinda showed up." He smiled weakly.

"Oh, good, phew, thought I was losing it for a bit!" She laughed, but it sounded forced. "What's up?"

He panicked for a minute. Why was he here? Well, he wasn't ready to just jump in and ask her out, that was for sure. No way, he needed to warm up to that. Was he inviting himself into her home? That wasn't gonna work. He was certain she'd let him, but he'd feel like a Class A asshole for that one. Why didn't he think about this earlier?!

"I, uh...do you...wanna go for a ride?" He asked, blushing a little as he stared down at his feet.

"Oh! That sounds fun. Anywhere in particular?" She asked.

"Uh...not really. I mean, it'll be dark soon, so somewhere we can see the stars or somethin'. You know." Digging himself deeper into a lie by refusing to admit his unpreparedness, eh? Classic. He mentally berated himself. This sort of shit had always worked with hook ups. But here in the context of the girl he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, it felt hollow and like a train wreck waiting to happen.

She gasped. "Oh! That's a great idea! There's supposed to be a meteor shower tonight, actually." She put her hands over her mouth in excitement. "Did you eat dinner yet? We should go get some food for like, an impromptu picnic!"

"Look at that, you've already improved on my idea ten fold." He grinned, noticing the way with which she blushed at his simple compliment, averting her eyes.

"Don't flatter me, I just love eating." She waved him off. "Come in while I grab my jacket and stuff."

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

Once food was acquired and they headed out, they became quiet, the only sound the rumbling of the Cadillac as Philly cruised along the country road. Night had fallen quickly. Usually they had an unending list of things to discuss, or at least enough for a car ride. But the air felt thick between them tonight. As they left civilization, Philly broke the silence.

"Do you remember graduation?" He asked softly, certain that she did.

"You almost didn't walk." Wendy replied, eyes downcast to the hands in her lap. "I think it meant more to me than you."

"Heh. Yeah. That's probably true." He clenched the wheel for a moment.

"That was the last time I saw you." Wendy said, swallowing. "And I didn't get to say good bye."

"..." He glanced at her in the passenger seat. She looked sad. He hadn't realized she'd even noticed the way he'd taken off after the ceremony. "I'm sorry."

"You don't have to be sorry-"

"I do, though. I didn't know how much it would mean to you. I was just- I was just a kid, and..." He winced, trees flashing past his vision as they meandered down the empty roads. "I wanted to congratulate you, I really did. But you were surrounded by friends, and family, hell, everyone was. But I...I had nobody."

They broke the tree line, and the stars came into view. Philly waited for Wendy to say something. He furrowed his brow as he heard a small sound. He glanced over and had to do a double take.

She had started crying.

"Aw fuck I didn't mean- I didn't mean to make you cry! Shit, lemme pull over," He pulled the car onto the shoulder, looking distressed. He unbuckled and leaned across to put a hand on her shoulder, staring at her with worry.

"I didn't realize- at the time I- I was just...so selfish, thinking about...how I felt...but not how it m-made you...feel..." She pressed her hands to her chest, a few sobs shaking loose.

"It's okay, Wendy." He leaned across the console to wrap his arms around her shoulders, pulling her to his chest. "You were just a kid too, you know. I never blamed you for being happy. For having people who cared about you."

She pressed her face to his chest, grabbing at his shirt. "Even so, I'm sorry." She pulled back, sniffling. "I wish I could've done more for you."

He took her hands. "You did enough." He rubbed his thumbs over the backs of her hands softly. "Shit, I didn't bring you out here to make you sad though." He released one of her hands, putting his hand on her cheek. "I'm glad I met you, you know. Especially here. And now." He smiled softly, heart pounding.

"I'm glad I met you too." She blushed under his gaze, averting her eyes. He blushed in response to her softly spoken words, the sincerity of them clear. The way her lips pouted slightly, parted as if she might speak, the pink spreading across her face. She was beautiful. Should he...? Was now the right time?

"Would you-" He felt cold, his heart beginning to pound even faster. She looked up at him. He felt locked into her blue eyes, still watery from crying earlier, the softness in her gaze making him catch his breath. Was that love? He panicked. "Would you like to eat, now? I can, uh, take the top down too, and all, so we can see the meteor shower better..."

The moment from before was broken. He slid his hands off her face and out of her hand, sitting back in his seat, fidgeting nervously, berating himself for chickening out. If not now, when? Well, certainly not now now. Sigh.

"Y-yeah, that sounds nice." She looked away, frowning a little. It made him nervous. Had he done something wrong?

"Great, I'll do that!" He set about his task, while Wendy laid the two takeout containers out on the backseat. The air felt heavy again, laden with the awkwardness of unspoken feelings. It was quiet again too, even worse now that the car was off. There was only the wind rustling the fields. With the top down, he grabbed a blanket out of the trunk, tossing it to Wendy as he joined her in the backseat. 

"It's gonna get cold as hell tonight." He commented. "Winter maybe isn't the best time for stargazing. Luckily I carry around a nice warm blanket."

She smiled, wrapping it over herself. She looked at him expectantly, picking up her food.

"You too, right? You've got so little body fat, you'll surely freeze."

He grinned, picking up his food and sliding under the blanket. She snuggled up against him as best as she could while still eating. His face warmed despite the cold air.

He put the food down, wrapping an arm around her. He put his face against the top of her head, feeling her soft hair against his skin, breathing in her scent. He was quickly becoming addicted to moments like these. A quiet intimacy of gentle, chaste touches. It was something he'd never known he'd wanted.

"Philly..." Wendy mumbled, pressing herself against his chest. She put her food down as well, pleasantly surprised by the contact. "Um, Philly, I-" She caught her breath, unable to continue. "Thanks for...taking me out to see the stars. And the meteors soon."

"S'no problem. Although, to be totally honest with you, I had no idea there was a meteor shower tonight." He chuckled, a deep throaty sound. "Asking you to come on a ride was a pretty last minute decision."

"Really?" She giggled a little. "Lucky timing for both of us then. What made you decide to do that, then?"

He pulled his face off her head, and she snuggled up against his chest further.

"Well, I...I wanted to see you. And before I knew it, I was at your door." He looked away. "I've been thinking a lot, since Thanksgiving. About the things I'm thankful for, and the things that I wouldn't want to lose." His breath caught in his throat again, but this time he continued after a moments pause. "You...mean so much to me, Wendy. I've been so scared to tell you, in case...in case you...don't feel the same but I...I want to be with you. Will you...be my girlfriend?"

"Yes." Wendy responded without hesitation, looking up at him teary eyes. "Yes a thousand times, Philly."

"R-really?!" His eyes widened, face brightening. "I- I'm so happy!" He wrapped both arms around her, squeezing gently and laughing. She laughed too.

"Look, look, the meteor shower!" Wendy noticed the streaks of light starting to cross the night sky. "It's beautiful." She stared at it for a long moment, before turning to look at him with a smile on her face.

She blushed upon finding him staring at her instead. "Yeah. It is beautiful." He put one of his hands on her cheek, staring into her eyes. He pressed his lips to hers and she returned the kiss. They pulled apart before snuggling up again in the blanket to watch the meteor shower. Despite the cold night, they had never felt warmer.