#point. while also it meaning absolutely none of that bc none of these dudes was serious ever in their whole career (except they were)

[daincrediblegg]

Marvel movie quip humor is going to make the class I’m taking on comedy a living hell isn’t it

[louisisalarrie]

hey genuine question do you think the azoffs helped harry at all like yk with his image and everything bc i personally feel like they didn't do much considering how he's been friends with them since he was 19

ok so this turned out longer than planned, I thought you were just attending soundcheck but anon… welcome to the show!

i mean… for a family business with a legacy like the Azoffs, getting harry onside was both a challenge, and a huge win. They’d been “befriending” him for a while even during 1d, but they saw the dollar bills. The dude is talented, gorgeous, and had undeniably the biggest fanbase of all the 1d boys. But you know what the biggest thing was? He already had the womaniser image.

getting a big popstar, who’s young and looking for something new, and already has an image that’s easy to uphold and is a standard in closeting, was an absolute jackpot for them. the Azoffs are pros in pulling together an image, but taking on an established artist and trying to introduce a new “era” or image, takes a long time to make it obvious that the team isn’t the ones pushing the artist to do it. It can’t seem unnatural to the GP, because that’s how these businesses fail. However, the Azoffs are highly regarded for making sure their artists have a huge amount of freedom and “control” over their image. They have their own image to uphold, and they continue to do that with their artists, but Harry is an excellent example.

They gave him big promises, and let’s be honest… he is far more himself than he ever was in 1d. He would’ve never been able to wear the clothes on stage that he does now, or talk ambiguously about his sexuality (more so than the 2015 seeding), or be so open in these long interviews and chats. It’s not all about the women now, but they’re still there. It’s so much more authentic, and it really worked out for the Azoffs, and also, for harry. Apart from the closeting, he has been able to be a lot more himself, and you can tell. The Azoffs upheld the promise of creative freedom, that they said they’d give to him many years ago. They definitely did do that (even though bits of his image are dramatised for sure).

But, re his personal life image, they already had a tick on the closeting, which was the biggest hurdle. He was already known to have the short term relationships, so stunts were easy. He was bribed with more freedom but still stunts and it makes sense to take it. It was more freedom than he’d ever had, and also the promise of actually making it as a solo star was like… obviously what he wanted. Ofc he’d go to the best in the business. He’s highly protected, more freedom, more control over his image but the stunts… they don’t just disappear. Harry has had a long term following who are interested in his personal life. It would be weird if he went “private” with that, because he’d always “dated” publicly. It was a trade, and by that point, all those boys were used to doing stunts anyway. A little bit of freedom is better than none.

They also offered a fucking large sum of money (in ref to projected outcomes if all contractual obligations were filled) and a good contract. Again, they need to continue to commit to giving artists more freedom. They’re known for that, even though the contracts are longer and trickier and there’s more exploitation, it makes sense to be with the best in the business. And the Azoffs have their fingers in so many pies, it’s ridiculous. Having Live Nation and Ticketmaster and many other businesses and partnerships from different industries and owning venues and everything… harry has a guaranteed career. The world is laid at his feet, but it’s always a trade.

Anyway, the whole boundary pushing thing they’ve put forward to harry, encouraging him to be himself but also step out of the lines, revitalise pop music, give the whole “be yourself!! we’re progressive!!” Thing has worked out very well for them. Harry’s done excellently too, because arguably the biggest challenge you can take on when employing an already established artist, is one from a boyband. Particularly the biggest boyband in the world, but a boyband nevertheless. Because… frankly, you have to widen that demographic. You have to show that this guy who’s gone solo is an artist in his own right. Is talented and can stand on his own. Isn’t going to be just another washed up boyband member. Isn’t going to be constantly related to the previous boyband in every headline, so people know who he is. And the Azoffs nailed that. I hate to say it, but they’re that important and rich and revered in the industry because they’re good at what they do. And they’re very rich and own everything, but..: they’re also good at what they do.

Now, context here, I’ve been in a total of two email chains with Jeff Azoff. One mainly for visibility for specific circumstances, one that was a bit more general, but shit like… the documents this guy sends through and the planning and his assistant and everything… it’s all very carefully curated. These people take no shit and are extremely professional but also don’t take no for an answer. Everyone says yes to them, kinda because they have to. (I’m not saying i know Jeff in any way, shape, or form… i just was part of a few threads so I’ve seen some of his work incl. a small amount re Harry).

Listen… they’re fucking good at what they do, but they tie people up in knots with these contracts. It’s negotiation. It’s a trade, like all these deals are, but they can promise way more than other folks. It makes sense to go to them.

In short: Their monopolisation of the industry is yucky. I don’t like the control they have, I don’t like how exhausted their artists are, I don’t like their stunting, and I don’t like their control over the press. I don’t like a lot of things about these idiots, but I recognise they have this power because they did have a headstart in the industry, but also they’ve upheld it and they’ve delivered great results.

Not to mention that good ol’ SC had a solid relationship with them too… until he didn’t. They poached harry, “advised and counselled him” to take the band in a new direction, showing him that the grass is greener before stealing him the second they could. And they did.

Anyway sorry for the ramble here, but yeah, they’ve done well repairing his image from 1d for the most part, while still holding onto the biggest element of it: keeping him officially closeted.

[littleshopofhorrors-confessions]

prev anon your logic works in theory but unfortunately we don't really care about canon here if you couldn't tell...

... Actually it doesn't

To the first point that he is cis because he was raised in the Skid Row Home For Boys: It seems convincing at first, but you must remember we get this information from Seymour himself, who might be very used to that little white lie on the last part of the name of the orphanage.

His next point is that Seymour “does not have the confidence or self-assuredness to realize that he is trans, let alone do anything about it,” which is just ridiculous. While it does take hard work and conviction to transition, that doesn't mean that all trans men will be this one Type Of Guy with confidence and an iron resolve. Besides, we have seen EXACTLY what Seymour is willing to do for something he cares about.

NEXT “anon” argues that Mr. Mushnik would not accept him as a man if he doesn't even approve of him or see him as his son, in fact, anon finds the notion significantly “funny.” See, this part REALLY irks me because it implies that the totem pole of respect goes something like “approval > ADOPTION > basic acknowledgement of someone as their stated gender” which is absolutely crazy wacko to me, really seems like very few -if any at all- other levels of respect should be necessary to extend someone that basic understanding. I don't imagine they’ve reached a level of disrespect at which he would purposefully deny Seymour his very identity, honestly I don't even think he cares that much. Now I know Mushnik is an old man living in the 60s, but I'm sure, in 20 something years, he and Seymour have at least reached a level of understanding. Even if Mushnik didn’t respect his transition they still need to have a decent enough relationship for Seymour to agree to work with him. He's a very low maintenance worker, just needs water, meatloaf, and some gender affirmation, Mushnik cant really afford to be transphobic here. Also nothing i said really matters bc Mushnik is trans too. Thats why, out of everyone in the Skid Row Home For Girls, he took in that scrawny kid in the baggy clothes who cut his own hair with a piece of broken glass.

Finally, he just says that Seymour can't afford HRT. probably true, or maybe that's a part of the reason he’s so poor, because like many many people, he has medical expenses that keep him in poverty. Still though, if he wasn't getting T, no one said Seymour was passing. Maybe the most accurate Seymour actor is a pre-T trans dude. It is a stage musical in case you’ve forgotten. there’s no “canon” actor.

Now you will notice none of these arguments imply he is straight, so the “het” was just for fun I guess, yeah he loves Audrey but that just means he probably isn’t exclusively gay, still could be though, maybe he was in love with her before her transition and the feeling just never went away.

[spoiledlbleach]

About Q!BBH not being able to die, what about what happened to Q!Rubius? BBH uses a mixed mythology, in some Mythology gods can be killed such as Norse (i.e. Baldur) he could theoretically be killable in his current form or his current form itself may be killable. I mean other players were able to kill him in purgatory albeit not permanently. Other powerful beings such Cucurucho, Lil J and Lil S have creative mode while Q!BBH doesn't.

so if you're curious I'm answering an ask which touches upon my theory on q!bbh's immortality

the continuation is under the cut

so yeah i havent thought a lot abt my theory so it doesnt make some sense so i thought id spit out some thoughts i had while writing thatthe original post

q!bbh has lived longer than possible for any human, a few millenia. usually in media it means that the long living creature is immortal. yet we have qbbh's limbo which means he can die (wanna point out that the wording in the original post wasn't great but what i meant by "bbh cant die" is that hes not allowed to, not unable; read more in the last paragraph but shortly speaking: power imbalance). and this leaves us with other variants of limited immortality, or immortality on conditions like dependent on will (the creature can die if it gives up on living), prophesy or some other stuff

i think in q!bbh's case he can live forever or die if he puts his mind to it. and his immortality doesnt mean constant regen or inability to be hurt at all or something like this, he is vulnerable to illnesses and hurt from physical world and to live on he has to endure it because he can and his physical form can handle it

and actually i dont think its fair to include purgatory in this cuz at that time period everyone was killable and immortal in some sort. deaths didnt count so i dont think we gain something from that kill system in terms of lore (and lore can be anything that is meaningful to the story)

and i think creative mode is a great sign for absolute immortality. cucurucho doesnt die at all. and in terms of q!rubius i can link him being a mortal now with christianity??? umm lemme explain. so. jesus was a son of god right. and he was human (sorta?) and was killable (also sorta?). and considering that theres Lil J who may be jesus???? or not i think as a god he can canonically (bible lore wise) turn into human? yeah this was a great train of thought amirite

and i also dont think bbh is a god. hes a grim reaper and dapper is a grim reaper in training, which either mean grim reaper is a title and can be given to the worty by the previous grim reaper or q!bbh can be joking and just being cute w his kid like "omggg look dapper is a grim reaper in training" and being gr in training is impossible yk

so grim reaper is a powerful being which doesnt mean they must be immortal at all times. and yet grim reaper dissappearing from the world full of mortals who die constantly (in terms of.. yk millenia) is going to change the balance of the universe and the disappearance of lil j and lil s wont (bc evil and good is gonna exist anyway, they are not embodiments of these concepts respectively; and also these dudes were acting like some type of sponsors and mentors at the same time and after their disappearance nothing happened and none of the residents was sent to the purgatory because they were called sinners right? did i just fucking think of another theory)

so yeah. q!bbh

[narwhalandchill]

i have to say of all the things people were speculating before 4.2 the fontaine AQ "theory" (if you could even call it that) im the most glad just. aged like complete milk and died silently in a ditch as it should was the way people were just. genuinely thinking the shadow dude in the narwhals stomach was childe 💀 and not even in the "ohhh what if" but actually soo convinced i just????

like hello what the fuck. i cannot believe that was a real thing like it was so widespread bc everyone went all. well the narwhal has to be bad and evil with terrible designs in mind for some nefarious plot relating to ajax so it has to be corrupting him and using his body as a puppet. and then pointing at the absolute most superficial "similarities" between the shadow and foul legacy when literally none of the actual core design aspects of FL were present at all whatsoever 😭 the shadow shares more in common with the fucking husks or even like. those hsr antimatter legion bitches what are you guys talking about. arguing oh the reason it looks nothing like childe or FL is bc hes already been gigasigma corrupted for a billion years in abyss time like WHAT

it got so bad i started fucking. double guessing my own (factually correct. as always. its like dawei wants to feed my ego) assessment of. yeah no fucking way thats ajax. theres some similarities in certain combat moves and some armor traits but like. he didnt invent his fighting style with FL he was literally taught it 💀 and 4.0 already told us skirk taking him in as a disciple had Something to do with his encounter with the narwhal. not at all unusual there would be some parallel (and i do find it plausible that the shadow v much has to do with surtalogi).

the other side of it was also like. yes sure im less reliable on that argument front leading up to 4.2 bc im way too narwhalpilled and obsessed with destined bonds between a mortal and an eldritch cosmic being in general so i was always hoping for it to like him in that based gourmet incomprehensible alien way. BUT. the way ppl fucking trashed my beloved acting all oh the narwhal calling for ajax must involve wanting to do something terrible to the uhhhhhh (checks notes) kid that.... freed it? woke it up? after an indeterminate time spent in some sort of stasis and imprisonment??? especially when its a creature meant to be freely traversing the cosmos?? Huh? 😭 tf would the narwhal have against him im crying. stop assuming the worst of this lovely friend shaped cetacean that is literally so rude.

(And like. i mean this with the utmost respect to his clear power boost regarding mastery over FL and am by no means trying to flatten or dismiss his development but also. 45+ days brawling. when the narwhal was already more or less fully primordial sea juice boosted. and when it went DIRECTLY for the kill against all those shrimp civilians in the cutscene. ajax. ajax. ajax. you did a great job but no way in fucking hell am i believing the narwhal was at any point trying to kill you fr im sorry 💀💀💀 you got the VIP treatment bc it likes you and i am Not believing otherwise unless dawei himself smites me and rebukes this directly. edit: and like he fell back in passed out & near death. well why the fuck wouldnt it finish the job right there and then???? checkmate atheists)

ultimately it just made no sense and while theories are fair game for everyone and all i just really hated this one its literally so petty but i cant help it im so glad it was instakilled on spot by the 4.2 trailer SKSKSKDKSKSDSJK i saw my man true and real in all his foul legacy drip and i knew i won.

also when the narwhal attack animations leaked and people were all oh my god its destroying childes constellation this is super bad and evil and i just. you mean the constellations that serve as the direct physical manifestations of celestias hold over destiny and fate. those. you mean the guy whose boss archive entry builds him up as the one who will "overturn this world" having his constellation busted through by a 874679 gigaton star-devouring whale pal could like. in no way shape or form be perhaps a visual metaphor for some. other development. after multiple lore drops and talks of wills capable of rivaling the world and not being chained by celestias ever present gaze. dont you maybe think the visuals of a constellation falling from the sky could also imply a different kind of thing. icant 😭 same for his vision malfunctioning if the narwhals behind that one too. like you mean the device we used to literally spy on his memories and that are all but confirmed to be not quite the quirky divine gift all perks no fine print you might assume. that thing. surely the vision malfunctioning is awful for ajax. (this take was sponsored by sustainer!!!)

it was literally just all these weird assumptions that abyss bad so narwhal from abyss (that aged well lmao) also bad ajax is a helpless baby fish being lured by the seductive calls of his narwhal to the dark side. and so on

and then turns out hes the one attacking the narwhal on sight 💀💀 if only we couldve foreseen his desire to fight the being he encountered during his time in the abyss once they meet again from something like idk his own voicelines that have been there since 1.1..... but alas 😔

[written-in-starlight]

So, long ass plane rides means getting bored and watching questionable movies, right?

The other day, @73kittens and I were bored and decided to watch a movie called Mummies. And within 30 seconds we were absolutely tearing it apart. Yes it’s a kids movie. Yes I’m gonna judge the hell outta it.

So, without further ado, enjoy this summary/review of the movie where we kept needing to pause bc we were so confused or laughing too hard.

Plot tldr before we begin: mummies living in a secret mummy city, arranged marriage, enemies to lovers, an important ring is stolen and shenanigans ensue to get it back.

So the movie opens with a chariot race cause our main dude, Thut, is a charioteer. Immediately I paused and turned to @carlscookies and went “that’s not accurate is it?” The answer is no! It was a Greek styled chariot race! Taking place in Ancient Egypt! So we’re off to a great start in the historical accuracy category lol (Side note, the first time I saw his name spelled (no subtitles), I thought his name was thot lol)

After that is some tomb raider stuff. Oh and magic bullshit, where we get introduced to the concept of a mummy city. “It’s a wannabe Atlantis, set in modern day, with a vaguely mummy aesthetic” - kitten #42

So we catch up with Thut, who is famous for his chariot shenanigans, has what I think is PTSD from the accident shown in the first scene, and is getting flirted with by all the lovely ladies, leading to the lovely exchange: “Why haven’t you settled down yet?” “Cause marriage is forever, and mummies live forever.”

Remember that last bit, it’ll become relevant many times over.

So next historical inaccuracy is the produce. Aka they had lettuce and tomatoes and onions. At which point we paused and made our fourth (Brendan get a tumblr so I can tag you) who had wifi look up the main produce of ancient egypt

Spoiler alert: not lettuce and tomatoes and onions.

And this is all before we meet our lovely female lead, a princess whose name I cannot remember. She’s snuck out of her palace, and despite it feeling like she’s done this before, she still has trouble sneaking back in. “It seemed like the kind of thing she does all the time and yet this is her first time sneaking out despite the fact that she’s been a mummy for two thousand years” -kitten #37

After she gets back in, she fights with her dad the pharaoh. He wants her to get engaged, she just wants to be a singer. Singing is not for princesses apparently, and she has to get engaged/married before her dad steps down as pharaoh. Side note, why does her dad have to step down as pharaoh? It’s been established they live forever, can’t he just be pharaoh forever?? I’m so confused???

Fun quotes from this bit: “The 2000s are basically the new 1000s” “I need at least a hundred more years before I can think about engagement”

Phoenixes appear to choose a fiancé for the princess. And I immediately thought “fire and mummies do not mix”

Anyhoot, phoenix gets shot down by Thut’s little brother (henceforth known as demon child) and “chooses” Thut to be the fiancé. And his immediate response is “I’m allergic to marriage!” “I love how the lady’s immediate response to you hearing that if he backs out, his eyes and tongue get cut out that it’s only an eternity” -kitten #32

So you have two willfully single people who absolutely hate the idea of marriage but refuse to back down, so they end up yelling stuff like “Yeah, well I can’t wait to love you forever and hold you and cherish you!” In very angry voices lol

When Thut leaves the palace, the demon child goes “I was afraid they were gonna execute you!” Which. What is death in this universe??? They live forever but the pharaoh has decided to step down as pharaoh and mummies can be executed?????? Do mummies age or do children stay children forever??????? I need answers movie

(Spoiler alert: we get none :/ )

(We also got on a tangent while writing this about “what do mummies do to “start a family”???” “When their parents get to the mummy afterlife, do you transfer that child to their biological parents or is it just first come, first served?” - kitten #4 “They could just have the little brother as their surrogate child. Wait a second, where are his parents????” - kitten #14)

So when the engagement happened Thut got a very important ring that he can not lose. You probably know where we’re going with this. He goes and puts it in a very safe place where nothing can happen to it.

And then tomb raiders break in and steal the ring. Surprise surprise. What is a surprise is that, when Thut discovers the theft, he immediately goes “This could only be the work of livings!” Which, I’m sorry, does this happen often???? “Maybe it does, maybe that’s why they know English!” -kitten #66 (the devil’s advocate kitten)

This is also when we learn that the secret mummy city was created to protect mummies from the living. Leading to the only obvious conclusion: the mummy city was created to stop the British from eating them (true facts, look it up)

But also: were they sentient before the city was made? Did they just hang out in their tombs, lonely forever except for those who got buried with all of their slaves? Is this why mummies sleep, cause otherwise they’d get bored? I just keep getting more questions and so very little answers. “How do they know that it’s there? How would they get the word out that there’s a mummy city? Are they telepathic? No cause then they’d know why he doesn’t wanna get married. How do they know where the other mummies are buried?” -kitten #50

At this point I basically stopped taking notes (though we did keep pausing to ask many of the same questions), so time to skim through the rest of the movie real fast

Thut and demon child go to the land of the living to get the ring back, princess follows, shenanigans happen, they end up in modern day London, hijack a production of Aida (that hurt my frickin soul because I’ve done that show), princess becomes a pop star (yay for her, but omg the song and its name were so boring), gets kidnapped by tomb raider, Thut also gets kidnapped when trying to save her, demon child saves them both and gets the ring back, and they go back to Egypt and the mummy city yaaaay

Except there’s still a solid half hour in the movie. It ain’t over yet lol

But imma spin off on a tangent for a moment about princess and her pop star life. Because the movie has us on the fence for a while about whether or not she’s gonna go back to the mummy city. Which in any other movie, is a fair dilemma. Except she’s dead. And I feel there’s some sort of ethical implications for a mummy trying to live the life of a typical teenage pop star. Also. Ma’am get better tunes lmao

Alrighty, tangent done, time to skim the last bit

Thut and princess have finally realized they like each other, which means we’re in the miscommunication part of the enemies-to-lovers trope. So they go their separate ways, both miserable but thinking the other doesn’t love them, until the tomb raiders break into the mummy city. They work together to save the city and the pharaoh, Thut has a dramatic “I love you” moment before sacrificing himself to take out the tomb raiders (and once again raising the question can mummies die????) except this is a kid's movie so of course he survives and they get married and princess gets to sing so wahoo happy endings all around.

And an insane amount of bafflement in row 32 of that plane lol

Now, is this a bad movie? In the context of it being a kid's movie, it's not terrible. It's a fun little adventure if you can turn your brain off and just accept the story for what it is.

But for those of us with more brain power than your average male orange cat, the worldbuilding holes lurking just under the veneer of plot are large enough to fuckin cave dive in, such as:

the aforementioned "What is death in this universe?????"

Why do mummies need to sleep/eat?

Where tf do they get the food from, since they're underground and (presumably) can't grow it themselves

How did they build the mummy city? (Slave mummies? probably slave mummies) How are other mummies supposed to find it/get there once they're buried?

Why does the pharaoh have to step down if he lives forever? What about the other pharaohs? Are there multiple mummy cities for each or do they each just rule a portion of the one city?

Do children age? (Probably not) How does custody of children mummies work? Where are the demon child's parents???

Is magic a thing in this universe? Cause that would answer several questions, but honestly I saw about 0 evidence for magic other than, ya know, living mummies. Which just says necromancy, not other types of magic.

Movie you are way too shallow to be playing with the idea of "Immortal (dead) girl trying to live a normal teenage life"

But hey, at least it was some sort of entertaining for the like 2 hours we spent watching it and the multiple times we kept remembering it and getting into debates afterwards lol

Tldr: Don't watch kid's movies as an adult unless you're ready to just be constantly questioning everything. And/or you're a parent and therefore have to watch along with your kiddo lol

[commanderquinn]

Good Space Chapter 3: Hey Gringo

! i dont! keep these posts! updated! like i do! ao3!

that means you're going to find typos and shit (and possibly minor detail changes) that don't match the ao3 version! that's because im not going to bother fixing the tumblr posts until i finish good space as a whole. im only uploading them here as a backup tbh

—

master list / ao3 chapter link

—

warnings: ayyy!! none this time!! unless you wanna count Highly Disrespectful Thoughts ❤️ tho!!! the flashbacks are shuri, heads up for anyone who is a big baby (like me) and still crying over WF. also (shocker) bucko angst/panic attacks

song: it KALEO time!! istg there are golden oldies and hippie classics on this intended playlist, we just havent gotten to them yet. this choice is mega self-indulgent on my end ngl, buuuuut thats the whole fic in general lbr (side note: every time i write Angy Ava, i want you to imagine the vocal intensity of jefferson airplane’s lead singer, grace slick)

the timing of this chapter could NOT have been better with the probably-russian hackers knocking out ao3 that long. i mean it dude, im pretty sure the universe had a good chuckle over this one bc i sure as shit had to sit here and go “youre pullin my leg bud”

also now feels like a good time to mention, for absolutely no reason in particular (definitely not bc of Bucky being a Huge Simp this chapter), that i hc bucky as a dom with service top leanings. i just didnt wanna give the impression that reader is dom for this and accidentally get anyones hopes up with no payoff. i try to avoid that as much as i can bc god knows i drop Big Honkers on y’all every damn chapter, id hate for you to get all the way to the end of this and not get your cookie, y’know? (i am, ofc, down to write mega sub bucky for smut-shot requests)

also remember when i mentioned giving ava a HANDFUL of physical details for writing fuel? 🌝 (ur gonna think im funny rlly soon, dw)

anyways if you dont have adhd, good luck and god speed with the idiots thinkin abt each other in this chapter ❤️ im so sorry in advance 🥺😔

—

Febuary 17th, 2015

"Good morning, Sh—"

"Have you left your worthless husband yet?" Shuri impatiently taps a finger against her elbow, where her arms are crossed over her chest. 

She watches Ava sigh on the other end of the vidcall. The woman looks too tired. She needs rest. Shuri wants to stab Alec all over again. She's going to make a new, self-lacing, possibly electrified dagger just for the occasion. "I know you're just trying to—"

"We can come to get you. I will send T'Challa. You must promise me that you will have him get me something from Washington." Shuri raises a stern finger, pointing it directly at the camera. "Do not let him pick it out himself—"

"Shuri, honey, I love you with all my heart, but please—"

"I want you to pick it. The furniture in your office is ridiculous; I want something like that."

A smile far too small pulls at the corners of Ava's lips. Her smile used to move freely, and it will do so again if Shuri has any say in the matter. Which she does. "Well, thank you, I work very hard to keep it ridiculous. Now—"

"It will make me think of you whenever you are not around to make fun of my brother with me. My mother will get the lawyers you need to start your divorce—"

"I—sweetheart, please, it's been a very long night—"

"It is the afternoon where you are. You have not even had breakfast, have you? Of course not. You are busy doing the work while Alec—"

"Shuri!" Ava puts a hand over her eyes and takes an unsteady breath in. "I'm sorry. This is—it's been a long night. I didn't mean to yell at you—"

"You need to start yelling much more, Ava. Aim it at your worthless husband while you tell him you are leaving," Shuri argues, entirely fed up with how the doctor allows the spineless dickhead to make her miserable. "T'challa will remove him for you while you stay here with us."

Alec—she refuses to call him Ryder; the man does not deserve to have taken the doctor's name—leans into the camera view, his expression bored. Dismissive. Shuri wants to smash his wrinkling, greasy face in with her fist. "While I appreciate the offer, your majesty, my wife and I can handle our private life alone."

Shuri glares back at him, one of her eyebrows hiked as far up as she can comfortably get it. "Do you really think being aware of your presence on this call will deter me from reminding my friend that you are a demon?" She looks pointedly at Ava, who's still covering her eyes. "He is a demon. A pasty, rude demon."

"Alec is going to shut the fuck up now, I promise." The fingers over Ava's eyes pull in until she's pinching the bridge of her nose tightly. She looks as if she's fighting off a migraine. She probably is. And it is Alec's fault. "That way, we can get this over with, and I can finally get some sleep—"

"Which you need and are not getting enough of." The words slip out before Shuri can stop them. 

Ava's shoulders deflate slightly. Her hand drops, and she attempts another smile that doesn't reach her eyes, making Shuri feel a pang of guilt. "No, I'm not. But I will, just as soon as we finish the basic adaptation matrix. I promise."

Ava always encourages her to speak her mind, no matter what. Sometimes it gets her into trouble. She is not looking to berate her favorite Canadian; she loves leaving the vidcomm between their labs on. The open connection is a comforting window into the outside, one that lets Shrui indulge in any question or raving that passes through her mind. 

Alec is a poison in her friend's life, and Shuri will not back down from reminding her of that. But mother and Nakia have sat with her over this, explaining that sometimes, an abused heart will cling to what hurts it. They have to be supportive while Ava works through this. She's getting there. Just not nearly fast enough for Shuri's patience.

Father has been reminding them all that Alec is a risk, given what he knows. Trusting Ava means trusting her for the duration, and they can't go back now. If she says she is handling the issue of separating the man from her work, they have to allow her room to do that. But T'Challa has been ordered to keep close, or at the very least, ready to go.

As much as she despises Alec, Shuri does not wish to see Ava hurt in this. Not any more than necessary. She is also not interested in trying to control her friend the way her mother sometimes tries to control her. It is infuriating. 

So, taking a deep breath and squaring her shoulders, she lets some of the fight leave her. For the sake of Ava, not the pasty demon. "I have the latest build ready for transfer." 

"You're sure you've secured the connection on your end?" Alec has the audacity to question, even outside of the frame. "I'm not interested in spending my week chasing traces of this—"

"Do I look as if I will hesitate to strike you, colonizer?!"

—

"I'm just saying, Humpty Dumpty."

"Fuck off," Bucky wheezes at the billionaire, compressing the towel he grabbed from his new medkit against his ribs. Why he expected to make it through his first mission back without having to crack it open, he's not entirely sure now that he's sitting in the hindsight. Getting shot today was, if he's honest with himself, entirely predictable. It's his luck, after all. 

"We let you out of the house again for five minutes, and you've already broken yourself." Tony shakes his head as he tsk's, making Bucky roll his eyes lazily. "What's Ryder going to think? If you keep this up, you'll give the woman a complex about draining your mojo."

"She's going to think I throw myself in front of armor-piercing rounds for idiots that don't notice when they're being shot at." The mention of Ava brings the doctor's smiling face to the forefront of his mind. Bucky leans back against the Quinjet's co-pilot seat, letting his eyes fall closed. 

He could take care of this latest injury himself. That's what he usually does. Thanks to the serum, all he has to do is keep the wound clean for a few hours while his body stitches itself back together. Nothing's broken, and he'd be in much more pain if anything were punctured. Hell, he'd probably be dead already. The fix for this is so easy it'll practically handle itself.

"You always get so cranky after you've played the hero." He hears Tony kick his feet up on the Quinjet's main controls. "Take a breather. Maybe a bow or two. Believe it or not, it's possible to accept a compliment now and then."

"Grandstand more often, got it."

Ava's probably going to hear about today's incident now that Bucky thinks about it. If anything, Steve's going to make sure of it. He doubts she'd guilt him for not being comfortable with an optional trip to medical. They've been having more conversations about boundaries and comfort, and she's been unwaveringly supportive of him moving at his own pace. 

"You don't have to grandstand, you gigantic baby," Natasha chides from between the chairs. Her hand smacks against his shoulder, making Bucky grunt softly. "A whole new world is going to open up for you when you relearn to accept praise."

Tony snorts, long and loud. "Has he reached that stage of modern education yet?"

"I reached that stage of education before you were born, Stark." Bucky's not territorial over his reputation anymore; those days are long since passed. The grand majority of his mojo got left in the 40s. He's just tired of Tony's shit. That's all it is.

He shifts uncomfortably in his seat. Ava might feel bad that he didn't come to her for something like this. He doesn't... want that. He doesn't want her thinking that he doesn't welcome her help or that he doesn't trust it. He... he does. He doesn't just appreciate having the option; he enjoys it. The new routine is a breeze, and his neck feels better than it ever has. At least that he can remember.

"I'm confused," Tony mumbles around a mouthful of snacks. The man never stops eating. "Are we talking about your no-no years, or did you and Rogers hit up underground bars before Germany?"

"I know all his secrets from the vanilla days; they never went to any of the fun ones," Natasha confirms. It's not like Bucky was going to take the verbal bait anyways. Steve still falls for it regularly. 

"I like how you don't deny having the rest of the answer; I feel like it tells me all I can tolerate about the icicles when it comes to this. That's my favorite part about you, Romanoff. You know when I don't need to know, you know?"

His dumbass friends might as well be background noise with Bucky's mind this firmly in the memory of Ava's office. She's been so good to him, especially over this last week while she pushed through all the red tape for him. He'd been expecting it to take an eternity of hounding Steve all by his lonesome, but she got him back in the field in under two weeks. His best friend had actually been kind of pissy about it behind closed doors. For Bucky, it was like getting sprinkles on top of his cake. 

He's been thinking about getting flowers delivered to her lab for the trouble. It feels like too much whenever his thumb hovers over the confirmation button. He's reached the part of staring at the order details four times.

"I'm pretty sure your country doesn't appreciate it as much as you do. They tend to fight cold wars over it."

"Well, yeah, but our country—you see what I did there? That was a pretty funny communism joke. And it works as a reminder for both of us that you're actually an American citizen these days; isn't that wild? Back to the point here, our country fights wars over stuff we do ourselves all the time, so that doesn't feel like a fair reason to dismiss our friendship."

The doctor's forcing him to expand his music library. Her taste there is as scattered as her taste in movies, but she's got some leading themes he's been able to pin down. The 60s and 70s are huge for her, expectedly, and she's got a lot of nostalgia over the 90s. Paige keeps her versed in all things pop, folk, and country, according to her. 

"If I start referring to the US as my country, you people will expect me to do things like register to vote. Or put up wallpaper."

"I don't think anyone's expecting you to be legally allowed to do that. The voting thing, not the wallpaper. In most states. For multiple reasons. Although, the wallpaper might be a good call."

Ava invited him to their absurdly large archive of playlists during his second session. The ones Paige curates are nothing but insanity. Not one of them makes a lick of sense. Bucky decided that he should have expected that, given her Energizer Bunny reputation. Ava's are less scattered; more organized. Soothing for his mind to digest. He's been using them as workout music ever since. And driving music. And general background noise. 

"I don't think I'd know where to start buying wallpaper. Do you even want me putting that shit on your expensive building?"

"Not really, but the idea of walking in on you rolling paste on the living room walls is worth anything it could take to fix them later."

God, she's funny, too. He could listen to the woman's awful, soul-crushing puns and subsequent cackling for hours. He'll never say that to her face, not for as long as he lives, but they've made him feel lighter every morning that he's gone to let her work him over. He's already stolen two of them to torture Sam with. Another thing he's not going to tell her.

"Maybe I should start smaller. Bruce keeps suggesting a car that has legal registration."

"Heeey, that could work. You'll be signing up for mailing lists and bitching about state tax in no time. You know what?" He hears Tony snap his fingers. "We should get you a houseplant. Work you up to having a fish or something."

Alright. Maybe he'll go to Ava. He doesn't want her to think he's trying to blow off her expertise again. Or that he's avoiding her. He's not; he really does like hanging out in her office. Even if it's technically a medical appointment. He's a lot more eager to visit her than his therapists, that's for sure.

"I am not paying taxes," Natasha scoffs. "If you think I'm tying a legal address to my name, you're out of your fucking mind. Moreso than usual."

"You don't think you'd enjoy having a cave to lurk in?"

"What makes you think I don't have one already?"

"I'm talking about a real house, not a safe house."

This injury isn't related to his cybernetics. It's his ribs, well below any of his implants. He's not entirely out of the loop when it comes to what doctors have to do to get their licenses. She no doubt had to pull a lot of hard hours during her residency. Maybe she doesn't want to patch up the tower's notorious grouch every time he takes a hit. But he doubts she'd ever be impolite enough to refuse him walking in.

"I have my space here: bathroom, laundry room, small kitchen. If I haven't bothered decorating that, what makes you think I'll want to do it for an entire house?"

"Aww, come on. Look at Ryder! She's having all kinds of fun making her place as obnoxious as possible. That could be you after a few online shopping sprees."

Bucky's eyes open slowly, his brows drawing in when the second verbal mention of Ava pulls parts of his attention back to the conversation. 

Fuck, not going to medical still leaves the option of her taking offense. Okay. Alright. So, he'll split the difference and go to emergency intake. He's pretty sure she's listed as his surgical contact in the tower now—he can't stomach looking at his own medical file, not even the written records. Any injury this big will get flagged for trauma support, and she'll be notified. Then it's up to her what she wants to do. That feels like a good compromise.

"She's doing that to reclaim it from Alec; that's different. I don't have the same motivation. For me, it's just going to be extra work.

"Who's Alec?" Bucky asks without thinking. If the universe doesn't hate him today, Natasha's just going to assume he's being his usual kind of paranoid.

"She hasn't mentioned him?" Tony sounds surprised. "Alec's her ex-husband."

Ex-husband? She was married? And she's not anymore, meaning she might be—

He shuts down that train of thought immediately. 

Reclaiming the space of her house implies they lived in it long enough to form some heavy memories. She hasn't mentioned having a kid, and she strikes him as the type to bring up something like that pretty fast. So it was just the two of them, most likely.

"People usually don't like talking about the egocentric sack of shit they used to coexist with," Natasha points out. Of course, she already knows about the doctor's history. It's her.

"Bad divorce?" he prods, trying not to sound overly invested in the answer. These assholes will take it as an invitation.

"Oh, the worst," Tony confirms. "Shithead tried fighting her on it tooth and nail. She had to borrow my legal team just to get the guy to fuck off and leave her alone. He even kept her surname after the divorce; can you believe that?"

An uneasy feeling starts to rise in his gut, making Bucky look over at him. Then up at Natasha. "What kind of won't leave her alone are we talking about?"

"Down, fido, my lawyers took care of it. There's no need to start tailing him. Aside from being a self-absorbed asshole that insists they'll," Tony's voice turns scornful as his fingers form air quotes, "work things out with time, he's toothless." 

"She's got concealed carry permits she earned properly if that makes you feel better," Natasha offers up. The thought does help ease the tension building in him. 

He won't read Ava's file, no matter how bad the buzzing gets. But he might check in with JARVIS about her home security. He's noticed her name on the system logs. She, or at least her house, is linked to SHIELD's network despite her general distrust of the organization. He understands the opposing priorities completely.

He caved and read Wyatt's file two nights ago. The buzzing had been building since Ava mentioned him wanting an autograph, and it finally got to be too much. Nothing's lurking there aside from an impressive list of historians from all the fuck over Georgia and Alabama. The kid's got more family than some towns have population. 

Bucky leans forward with a muted groan to change the autopilot's intended LZ of the Avenger's balcony to the entrance hanger for medical. If he's going to grit his teeth through the antiseptic over a couple small holes, he's damn sure not going to haul his ass through half the tower while his ribs leak. His patience has limits, and that's pretty fucking far over the starting line. 

Tony looks over at him with a deep, suspicious frown. Bucky frowns at him right back with the same level of scrutiny. He can feel Natasha staring a hole into the side of his head, even if he can't catch her in his peripherals. He hates both of them with a passion at the moment. He knows what's about to happen—

"Did you just… prioritize your own health," Tony questions like he's baffled by the very idea. His whole upper body turns in the seat as he looks up at Natasha excitedly. "Oh my god. He's doing it. All by himself." He raises a hand to his chest and looks back at Bucky. "They grow up so fast."

It's good that the autopilot is on. If it weren't, Bucky would be tempted to crash them out of spite, mostly because he's sure he'd survive it. "Very funny."

"All it took was a hippie that gives him candy," Natash adds, her voice dripping with smugness. "Who knew."

"Both of you can fuck off." Bucky doesn't like how close she just got to his primary motivation on the first try. Old habits die hard, et cetera. And he hates that he can't tell if she was trying to guess. If he's lucky, which he isn't, she was just making fun of him.

Natasha knows about his visits to the florist's website; he's fucking convinced of it now. He doesn't know how, and he can't outright call her on it. If he does, he could fuck up and make himself right. There is nothing worse than having the Black Widow as metaphorical family. Not even Steve's hovering.

She and Tony harass him for the remainder of the flight. It's not long, mercifully, and he's starting to regret not grabbing something for the doctor. They were in Montreal, of all places, so it would have been fitting. He figures she'll understand once he shows her his side. The train of thought makes him wonder what part of Canada she's originally from. She hasn't brought it up.

His foot is already bouncing by the time he reaches the elevator. He's still got the surgical towel shoved tightly against his ribs. He hopes she gets there fast if she ends up taking the call. The last thing he wants to do right now is sit around in the burn of antiseptic and bleach while he fights off the urge to bolt. 

This is good, Bucky reminds himself as he takes his first few steps into medical. He's sat through plenty of trips to emergency intake. He can handle walking into his first optional one. It's a non-issue. Completely.

When JARVIS informs him that his file and general vital scan have been submitted for intake, the buzzing gets so intense that he almost leaves. The pace of his sergeant walk, as Sam likes to designate it, slows to a crawl. Then he thinks about a doctor with concealed carry permits. One that lets her house be monitored by a government organization she's actively pushing herself to trust. All in an effort to contribute something good to the world. The buzzing eases, and he picks up his pace, headed for the solo observation room JARVIS listed for him.

There's no moment of standing involuntarily from nerves this time. He doesn't have to force himself to sit back down and wait, even though the room smells wrong. His skin is crawling, and he wants nothing more than to put a throwing knife in his hand like a goddamn security blanket. But he doesn't panic. He doesn't try leaving.

Baby steps.

When the door opens, it's devastating. There's no diminutive hippie with UFO-sized glasses smiling at him on the other side of it. It's a guy in a plain white lab coat without artistic stitching, one that Bucky's never met before in his life. He's already squinting down at a tablet, meaning this will be his doctor for the duration.

This was the worst plan he could have possibly conceived. The universe is humbling him for thinking he could get away with something like this without some kind of suffering. He just wanted to make up for being dismissive of her help initially. Now he gets to sit through this. How fucking grand.

"Barnes?" The doctor that's not Bucky's doctor looks up, his heart rate elevating by a few notches. He's putting in a lot of effort to look confident. It's not exactly working. "I'm Dr. Erickson. I'm guessing you're here for the bullet wounds JARVIS detected?"

"Yup." Bucky's not about to volunteer for small talk at the moment. It's a miracle he hasn't jumped off the biobed yet. "Where's Ryder?"

"Your primary is in a staff meeting at the moment." Erickson puts his tablet down on the supply cabinet's main counter. He's already starting to gather what he needs, leaving Bucky to figure out real quick if he's actually willing to do this. "Don't worry; I'll get you sewn up and on your way in no time."

He doesn't want it getting back to Ava that he bailed the moment she couldn't show up. He doesn't want to leave her with the impression that he's only going to take on medical care if it's her; that's not anywhere near fair. The woman is a brain surgeon, not his private physician. He can grow the fuck up and accept help from people that haven't gone through his gauntlet of verification.

"Great," he pushes out, lifting the side of his undershirt to offer an unobstructed view.

It's not great; it's fucking horrendous. The first touch of the new doctor makes the overly physical memory of the buzzing build so high, he can feel it in his teeth. They're not actually rattling in his jaw the way they did back then, he knows that, but it doesn't matter because his body is screaming at him that it's happening.

The first stitch going through his skin makes him want to put his fingers through the doctor's eye sockets. His mind goes over all the ways he can violently put at least ten feet between them without having to get up. Looking back, it's probably good he didn't reach for the throwing knives. He's not unhinged enough to stab someone unprovoked; he's better than that. But they'd have been distracting to his impulse control, that's for sure.

Dr. Handsy is pulling the first suture in tight when the door to the observation room opens again. Bucky doesn't look up, his eyes locked on a random point on the far wall while he focuses on his breathing. He only looks over when a billowing, maroon pant leg enters his peripheral.

Thanks to a bunch of dead Nazi scientists that used to hide out in the mountains of Russia, Bucky Barnes has a trigger in his brain that is entirely out of his control. One that, when activated by his own interest, lets him process his surroundings in a sliver of the time that it should for a human mind. It is exceptionally helpful in the field. 

Watching Ava Ryder walk in, wearing a suede jumpsuit that mercilessly frames her curves, proves to him that having it in the 30s would have gotten him shot by someone's father. Definitely before he left Brooklyn. Or before he got chased out by several fathers banding together with baseball bats. In the time it takes her hand to come off the door handle and make its way to her hip, his mind goes on one hell of a fucking journey.

He already had more than a vague idea of the shape of her before now; he can't help it. Comes with the territory of doing threat assessment for a living. God knows his eyes have slipped down to her chest on a shameful amount of occasions. Her tits are being held up and pushed together fucking beautifully at the moment. Typically, that would hold all of his attention.

But this is the first unobstructed view of her that he's gotten, thanks to the lab coat being nowhere in sight, and good fucking god. Holy fucking shit. Godfuckingdamn.

She's half turned from him at this angle, so he's only getting a side view. That's more than enough to show off an obscenely rounded ass and the cushy thighs it rests on that are going to haunt his fucking dreams. It's bigger than his hands by a margin that's outright glorious. The mental image of his fingers digging into it, of how it would make her skin dip under the pressure, makes his blood race.

He can't spot the outline of any underwear at first. Then her hand makes contact with the jumpsuit, and his eyes pick up on it. Right there, above the top of her finger, pulled up high over her hipbone. There's a thin band leaving an impression in the fabric. An extraordinarily thin band. There is nothing else in sight.

Pulled between Ava's legs, right at this very moment in time, is a strip of fabric that Bucky's tongue would fit against perfectly. Right under that is a taste he's been catching himself wondering about for two weeks now. One good, long drag of his nose. That's all it would take to push in whatever she's picked out for the day and soak it with that taste. He could get it back out from between her lips with his tongue, pull it to the side with his teeth to give himself room to feast—

Bucky tries to shift his weight as nonchalantly as possible while his brain slows back down. The comeback from tactical analysis is always jarring, with this one being especially so. 

He's the worst kind of bastard. An awful, selfish, perverted sonofabitch. There's not shit he can do to change that. How unfortunate.

"David," Ava greets, the name coming out as tense as the closed smile plastered on her face. "You can put that down."

The other doctor doesn't look up from the work his hands are doing. "That you, Ava? I heard you were—"

"Now."

Bucky's back straightens up as David looks at her nervously, taken aback. Bucky doesn't blame him; he didn't know her voice could get that forceful.

David sort of laughs, which feels like the worst possible choice to Bucky. But, hey, not his call. "What, do you want me to just—"

"I want your hands off my patient right now. I'm not asking." She watches with unwavering intensity as the other doctor lets the needle and thread drop from his hands. She visibly bristles at the patronizing expression on David's face, her head tilting aggressively. Bucky kind of wants to watch her hit him. "I'll be back in less than a minute, sergeant. I need a word outside with Dr. Erikson."

"Take your time," Bucky assures, the tension bleeding out of him already. His ribs are leaking, and there's a piece of doctor floss looped through his skin that he's going to have to cut out of himself tomorrow morning. The immoral evaluation of her outfit that his head threw at him is going to eat him alive. Forever. Especially when he's trying to fall asleep for the foreseeable future. 

All things considered, though, he feels fan-fucking-tastic.

David still looks somewhat shell-shocked, and there's real insult starting to creep into his posture, but the guy doesn't argue. He follows Ava back out of the room, not bothering with a goodbye in Bucky's direction. When the door closes behind them, his super hearing picks up on Ava reaming David about prioritizing patients before ego. She goes into detail about the deep shit he'll be in with her if he keeps ignoring her written orders, long before it ever gets him fired. She tacks on why her anger should scare him a hell of a lot more than the idea of that. Then she instructs him to keep his damn hands off her patients and get back to the intake desk. 

The protective streak makes Bucky's chest feel warm, a half-smile pulling at his lips. She's a handful, alright. One he'd give anything to be brave enough to send flowers to.

Ava is calm, cool, and collected when she leans back in through the doorframe, hanging off it with a soft smile. "Hiya, stranger. I hear you picked a fight in my motherland today."

"I hear it has an arms dealer problem. I wanted to see if I could help." He gestures down at the needle swinging from his ribs without looking at it. "Not all Canadians are as welcoming as you, turns out."

"Eh?" she fires back, hamming up the accent. "Wellll, I'm not about to let a few cranky arms dealers tarnish our reputation. What do you say you push that bandage against your new bragging rights, and we head for my office?"

Licking his bottom lip nervously, he tries to give her a confident smile. "You were busy with something."

"Not too busy for my favorite popsicle." One eyebrow raises sternly. "You are not allowed to tell Steve I'm playing favorites." God, she's cute when she tries to deflect. It's never worked. At least not on him.

"That's—" Shit, where to even find the fucking words for her. "You don't have to do this. Go out of your way like this. I don't mind getting patched up by random medics. Comes with the job."

Her smile turns impish. "That's cool and all, but I mind when people ignore basic ethics just to have a story about stitching up an Avenger. If you need to tell yourself I'm using you as fuel for a workplace pissing contest, go for it. Whatever gets you off that biobed." She leans back, leaving the door open wide behind her. "Come on; I can't stand the way they organize these damn shelves. I wouldn't patch you up in here even if you did pay me. Next time, head for my office first."

Bucky does as she ordered, pushing the surgical towel she packed for him against his side, not minding the sting in the least. He swallows down the point that, by every definition there is, he's not an Avenger. "I'll follow you, doc."

—

"Alright," Wyatt plops his hands down on the glass of the holo, his expression determined. His tight curls bounce with the motion, making their resident gumdrop look adorable, even through the discomfort. "Let's get to dissectin' this cacophony. All in one go, preferably, so I don't feel like yackin' up my lunch two days runnin'."

Ava's head tilts sympathetically. "Oh, honey, tell me you didn't—"

His hand comes up, with his index finger pointed to the ceiling. "Nope. But I got close a couple'a times thinkin' about this." He mutters several things under his breath about creepy Nazi bastards while he pulls up the raw data from Bucky's implants. "All the more reason to get it the hell over with."

"A whole day of digging through coded war crimes," Hannah deadpans quietly, raising a steaming mug to her lips. "I'm glad we get the fun assignments."

"You'd ditch us if we didn't," Ava jokes. She scrolls through the sergeant's file absentmindedly on her tablet, reviewing the vitals added just a few hours ago. He actually came to medical. For something as minor as a field injury. Of his own volition.

"Mmm. I don't know. It's pretty fun watching a brain move like Jell-O. You might have been able to convince me to stick around just for that."

SHIELD's primary system makes a blaring noise of disagreement as Wyatt loads the main file structure. He frowns, looking over at Ava with concern. "Its askin' for administrative override."

"Heeey, that's that thing Tony says I'm not supposed to abuse. That's probably not a good sign." Ava pushes her glasses further up the bridge of her nose and leans over to get a look at the error. "JAR, I'd like some reassurance we're not about to trigger an ancient LoJack if you wouldn't mind advising here."

"There are safeguards in place for importing code with an unknown source," JARVIS reports in. The warning on the screen is dismissed, presumably by him, and a new window comes up. A log of the programming in Bucky's cybernetics going through digital quarantine loads rapidly, with line after line being highlighted in red and labeled HYDRA Suspected. "I will process them for you. One moment."

"We have to clean the Nazi code before we can beat it to death," Hannah mumbles against the rim of her mug. "I think I kind of like that."

"Please, Hannie, I'm hangin' on by the skin'a my teeth here." Scrubbing his hands over his face, Wyatt groans exhaustedly. He drags them down slowly, giving Hannah a pleading look over the tops of his fingers. "You know I'm always here for supportin' you—"

"I'm aware." The ex-marine's clipped tone makes Ava snort and look back down at her tablet. They both know stopping him now isn't going to cut off the word vomit.

Wyatt's hands thunk back down onto the glass. "I'm so proud'a ya, y'know that—" And there's the thickening of the accent.

"I know."

Ava's eyes skim over the list of everything detected in Bucky's wound, locking on the word leather in particular. Today was her first look at his work gear—she's got a feeling he doesn't call it a uniform—in person. It was hard to keep professional in front of six and a half feet of Hi, how are ya? wrapped up in that much heavy black. The sounds that his vest made when he dropped it on the coffee table— Jesus. He's got to be packing enough in there to arm a small country. 

"All's I'm sayin' is that if I have to hear about murder right now, I might actually upchu—"

"Please don't."

Ava's too scared to ask what's in the sergeant's pants for a multitude of reasons. Professionalism is lower on the list than it probably should be. It's a shame, too. He's downright hilarious when he lets himself talk. There's not a doubt in her mind that he'd come up with something unbearably good—and unwaveringly dry—in response to the loaded question.

"A'right then. We're in agreement. No bad thoughts today. We go in like—like excavators, right? With our helmets and our 'lil pickaxes, and we get what we need so we can—" The way he cuts himself off makes Ava look back up in concern. She finds the most horrified expression on Wyatt's face. "That—ah shit, that didn't come out all that right. That was mean, wannit? Insensitive. I'm not tryin' to belittle what the sergeant's been through."

"You weren't belittling anything," Ava assures, reaching out to rub his arm. "I think he'd be the first one to race you to a fossil joke about this."

"You'll tell 'im I'm takin' this serious, won't ya—"

A small chuckle escapes before she can stop it. "Wyatt, sweetheart, it's not like he heard you—"

"You take your pills today, Combs?" Hannah's calm question makes the gumdrop freeze in place. She blows on her coffee, taking a small sip. "If you say you don't remember, I'm going to—"

Wyatt snaps his fingers, his expression shifting to relief. "I didn't, and I remember why, too." He rolls his chair back with a sudden push, aiming for his desk. He reaches out before the chair finishes the trip to grab his patch-covered messenger bag. "One'a the cats got int'a my coat closet; dumbass got stuck on a shelf for reasons I'm still not real clear on." He pops open his medication bottle, tossing a pill into his mouth with a level of dexterity that makes her jealous. "The hollerin' was s'damn loud, I thought the landlord was gonna come knockin'."

"Which one was it?" Ava asks. "Not the new kitten?"

"No, no—Juno's been'a dream. It was Galileo again. I love that furry little bastard, but sometimes he can drive me nutty ." He pauses to take a swig from another glossy vacation mug. Today's is advertising a campground Ava's never heard of that's the best in the Rockies, according to the swirling font. "I got new pictures of Juno if you want 'em, though."

"Yes, please," Ava confirms happily. Holding the teacup-sized ball of fur made her whole month when he last brought Juno in. Hannah ended up hogging most of the cuddle time, but the sound of little meows filling the day had been enough to make up for it.

Wyatt pulls his phone from his back pocket and brings it around to hook up to the holo. The system dings with the sound of a successful transfer after a moment. He loads a collection of new photos, zeroing in on one of Juno clawing her way up a window curtain—

The power to the lab shuts off with a loud, electric click. Everything plunges into darkness with the privacy setting on the glass walls keeping the sun out. It comes back on before Ava can react, the building's primary system switching to the emergency power grid. She and Wyatt lock eyes in panic.

"Oooh man, boss, did I just—"

"I'm sure you didn't," Ava comforts, trying to push down her own panic. It helps that she's heard Tony rambling about the work he's put into making this place indestructible. "JAR?" 

There's no response from the AI. She trades another nervous glace with Wyatt.

"I know it was probably the Nazi shit, but I'm hoping it was the cats," Hannah says, sounding sincere. "I feel like that'll make a much better story."

"Oh my god, did I break JAR?" Wyatt looks between them frantically. "How often does he back up his servers? Did I kill'a piece'a JAR?!"

"I have not been murdered," the AI confirms after nearly a minute of being gone. "The safeguards reported a false positive regarding the programming of Sergeant Barnes' cybernetics. It has been handled."

Ava gives the hologram wall of code a warry look. "Handled by you?" There's a suspicion building in her gut around his phrasing, one that she's not planning on letting out of her teeth. 

"Mr. Stark has a protocol in place that cuts off my servers in the event of any irregular activity. Given the nature of the programming's origin, the system is designed to er on the side of caution."

"That's a really fancy way of dancing around the point, JAR." She's trying to stay civil about this. It's not an easy venture, and she's pretty sure it's not translating at all. Even she can hear the frustration in her voice. "How about we cut the shit, and you tell me what the false positive was."

"There are automated routines running for Sergeant Barnes' implants. They are not harmful; I've taken the liberty of checking them personally now that they've been cleared through quarantine. I am creating a stable update to forward to—"

"How long have they not been harmful, JARVIS?"

Hannah sits up from her relaxed position at the avoidance of their favorite nickname for the AI. Wyatt's brows pull in nervously, his eyes never leaving Ava. They both know exactly what she's digging at.

There's a long hesitation from JARVIS. Short by normal social standards but an eternity for a sentience with quantum processors. "There is not currently a risk posed within the Sergeant's—"

Ava's out of her chair and halfway to the door before he even finishes the omission. Fueled by some of the most intense rage she's ever felt in her life, she marches out on swift feet. She's going to kill him. She's going to string him up—maybe hang him off the side of the tower.

America's fucking Sweetheart, her ass. America's Doomed Liar is a lot more like it.

"Where is he," Ava nearly growls, still stalking down the halls, leaving the medical wing in a hurry. "JARVIS, I know you're still listening; you tell me where that puffed-up, hypocritical—oooh , you tell me where Rogers is right the fuck now. And then you tell me where Stark is—"

"Dr. Ryder, I know you're not inclined to believe this at the moment, but I assure you—"

"You're right; I'm not inclined to do that at all." She takes a deep breath as she passes through the front entrance, slowing herself to a stop. With genuine effort, she pushes down her anger. "I don't want to keep yelling at you. I don't like doing it in the first place. If you don't want to tell me where they are, I'll find them myself."

Ava heads for the elevator to do just that. She's not expecting a response as she pounds the side of her fist against the button for the Datacrux's floor. It's likely to be her best bet to find any of them. There's not a chance in hell that she's letting her team dedicate any more time to this until she gets some fucking explanations.

Halfway along the ride up, the light around the button goes dim. A flash of anger rises in her until she sees the one for the executive level illuminate. 

"Mr. Stark is not currently in the tower, but you will find Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes debriefing in the Situation Room," JARVIS informs her over the elevator's intercom, making the SHEILD agents around her pretend not to look over. She's tempted to ask them if it's the outfit.

"Thank you, JAR," she offers as an olive branch. Regardless of what's truly going on here, she doubts the AI is all that comfortable with the subject.

"You're welcome, Ava."

She's only been to this part of the tower once before. Tony dragged her up to the Avenger's balcony for a party after her divorce was first finalized. That's about the extent of her experience with this section. It's not hard to find her way with everything denoted like it is in the rest of the building.

The palm of her hand smacks against the door marked Situation Room, and she shoves it open aggressively. Both super soldiers, the Falcon, Black Widow, and a scattered group of SHIELD agents stare back at her in surprise. It doesn't slow her down any.

Ava points an irate finger at Steve in the uneasy silence of the room. "Unless New York just caught fire, you and I are about to have a very blunt conversation, captain."

"Hiya, doc." Bucky, unsurprisingly, is the only one in the room smiling at her while she glares daggers at Captain America. He's still in his not-uniform. There's still blood on it. The charm he's throwing her way reminds her that they won't want an audience. 

"I'm going to ask the rest of you to leave," she continues, but her eyes stay on the sergeant as her finger lowers. "I don't think you'll want to be here for this, Bucky."

"What makes you think I don't wanna watch you beat up my best friend?" He leans back in his chair, his hands coming up to rest on his stomach as his smile deepens.

"Can I stay?" Sam asks, his voice eager. It's a damn shame this is how she gets to meet him. She doubts the Falcon has any clue about unethical research.

"Come on," Natasha insists with a serene nod in Ava's direction, grabbing Sam's shirt to drag him up from his chair. "You heard her."

"I—hey!" Steve looks so insulted as he watches his friends and various coworkers abandon him with zero hesitation. "You're just gonna—I don't even know what I did!"

"Neither do I, but I am very ready to hear about it," Bucky assures Ava, not an increasingly distressed Steve.

Ava taps her foot impatiently as the room clears out, leaving her alone with the super soldiers. She ignores the nerves radiating off of one of them and focuses on the one that looks delighted. "I'm serious. This is about your case. Specifically, the work HYDRA was trying to finish."

The mirth leaves Bucky almost entirely. His posture doesn't adjust from its reclined position. "Alright. Tell me what's got you livid about it."

"Steve here made me a promise that was broken in my lab a few minutes ago."

Steve's eyebrows pull in with confusion. "Which promise? Wait—a few minutes ago—Is this about that blackout? Ava, catch me up here; what the hell is—"

"You swore to me that the intention of HYDRA—at least where Bucky's case is concerned—was to make an army of super soldiers, nothing more." She's letting him process this one step at a time. It'll make yelling at him for lying a lot easier. That, and she's honestly worried the technophobe doesn't understand the gravity of the situation.

"I—" Steve hesitates, and she watches the switch to tactical assessment come over him. It's startling to see it directed at her from a face that isn't Bucky's. "As far as I know, that was the intention."

"Yeah? You're sure about that? You're sure you're not omitting something pretty fucking important to my job, Steven?"

"JARVIS, what was the blackout?" Bucky questions at half the volume he started at when she first came in.

Ava points at the sergeant insistently. "See? I'm guessing he doesn't even know, but he's sure as hell already on the right track."

"There was an incident regarding the coding found in your implants, Sergeant Barnes. It has been handled. I have prepared an update to their systems whenever you're ready to undergo a transfer."

"As your doctor, I'm ordering it. We can go back to my office after I'm finished ripping your friend a new asshole for lying to my face." Her eyebrows lower at Bucky in indignation. She's doing this for him, but that doesn't mean she's going to let him off the hook if he knew. "We should probably figure out if I need to do the same to you before we get there."

"Hey, hang on now." Steve raises one hand, likely to try to calm her, but changes his mind and puts it back under the table. She's guessing someone's finally clued in the out-of-time man about that practice making women want to throw something. At his head. "We might not always be able to talk about classified information—something you agreed to, I might add—but I've never lied about HYDRA's intent as far as I comprehend it. I've been very careful to hold up that end of our deal."

"Let me tell you how I know, for a fact, that someone involved in this case is doing a piss-poor job of lying to me about it. Since you haven't quite figured out modern tech, I'm going to try to keep it simple." Ava points a far less aggressive, more instructing finger at Bucky's arm. "In order for that hunk of metal to work, it needs to be programmed. The hardware needs software that can tell it how to read brain signals. A few decades ago, some Nazis sat in a room and wrote a bunch of code for that software. That's what was supposed to be in Bucky's implants. That's all that was supposed to be in Bucky's implants."

"Wait—what the hell else is in them?" The flicker of fear that creeps into Bucky's expression breaks her heart. There's not a doubt in her mind that he could sell her on any lie he wants to with his mind set on it. That's the point of infiltrators like him. 

But Ava's willing to bet everything she's got in this world that the fear in him at the moment is genuine. He doesn't know. And it makes her feel awful.

"Given the size of your implants, I'm guessing not much," she tries to reassure. "We can always purge whatever is there later. However, if the code were as simple as 'read this signal, do this thing,' it wouldn't have been flagged as untouchable by Tony's security measures. The ones put in specifically to prevent JARVIS from being corrupted." She crosses her arms over her chest in exasperation, her eyes moving to one of the small security cameras on the ceiling. "Would you like to explain to the captain what kind of code it would take to accomplish that, JARVIS?"

There's another human-length moment of hesitation from the AI in response. "It would take adapting code."

"The part he's holding back—definitely because he's under orders not to break SHIELD protocol—is that something has to be driving the adaptation. There is such a thing as self-adapting code; that would absolutely explain it. If we weren't talking about something made in the 40s when HYDRA needed entire warehouses just to house a few terabytes of data." She glances over at Bucky. "While I'm sure the agents you scare the piss out of would disagree, your head isn't actually big enough to hold that much."

"You flirtin' with me to stop the panic or to apologize for not being Canadian for a minute?"

Ava blinks in surprise, the slightest hint of heat coming up the sides of her neck. That—she hadn't been—well. Steve's head turns to him, his eyebrows raising in mild shock.

Bucky clears his throat, then tries for a quiet chuckle, his eyes floating between her and the table. "Sorry—it's this damn room. Puts me in sergeant mode, makes me—let's get back to yelling at Steve."

"Thanks, asshole, I appreciate—"

"What makes you think I won't yell at you just because I'm Canadian?" Ava counters, finally recovering. "You trying to stereotype me, Barnes?"

The relief that comes off of Bucky is palpable. "I'd go for the hippie thing first if I was trying to do that."

"Didn't you sleep through the McCarthy era?"

"HYDRA gave me the long and short of it between naps."

Her hand flies up to her face to block a loud snort. Damn him, this is serious. But she's not about to begrudge him the gallows humor. She lowers it again while he smirks at her. "Do you mind? I'm trying to make an angry but valid point here."

"About a bunch of code that my head isn't big enough for," he continues for her dryly, one hand coming off his stomach to gesture up at it.

Ava sighs, the amusement from getting sidetracked by the Brooklyn heartstopper fading fast. "Not big enough by the standards of the 40s. By today's standards?" Her head tilts to the side sadly, readying herself to watch that fear in him get more substantial. "You tell me, Buck. Did the Nazis work in the mindset of single projects, or did they work in the mindset of generations that would lead a global empire?"

The words are the last piece to complete the puzzle in Bucky's mind; Ava can see it happen in his eyes. The expression of horror it yanks out of him will haunt her for the rest of her days. "Zola." 

It's said in a whisper, and Ava's not even sure what the word is. 

It takes Steve longer to reach whatever conclusion Buckys come to, and he looks resistant to the idea at first. "No, that's... no—Buck, you've been to what's left. You know what it took—"

"That's the point she's making, stupid. Look at how small everything's gotten." He stops, and Ava doesn't miss the sight of a hard swallow. "It makes sense. Think about it. It makes sense. They took care of the car until they could find an engine that fit. I was the prototype. Or—was going to be, at least."

The comparison—the one he's using on himself—is revolting. Accurate, but astoundingly revolting. She pushes past it, leaning down to tap a condescending nail on the table. "Hi, there. Still here. Still looking for some answers. What the hell is Zola?"

With Steve watching him like a hawk, Bucky breathes a long, tired sigh. "Not what. Who." 

"I can fill her in," Steve offers to him quickly. "You don't have to do this."

"Oh, I'm not doing shit. She's going to do it all." Bucky locks eyes with Ava, his expression passive. Having the Winter Soldier himself that focused in on her makes her breath catch involuntarily. "How's your Russian, doc?"

"I don't speak a word of it. Do I need to for this?"

"No, I'm sure you've got plenty of ways to translate anything you feel like reading. You should look up doveryai, no proveryai while you're at it." He leans forward, resting his arms on the table. His eyes never once move away from hers. "JARVIS, transfer a copy of my archive access to Dr. Ryder. Full permissions. And the next time she asks you a hard question, you don't have to bullshit her. Tell her to call me."

—

April 6th, 2015

"I want you to bring me with you next time."

"No."

"Is that a no because you do not agree or because you are afraid of mother?"

"Both."

Shuri frowns at the security feed, ignoring the quiet laughter she can hear coming from Nakia on the other end. "Coward."

The camera mounted on T'Challa's dashboard shakes as he turns it back to his face, his expression annoyed. "Say that to my—"

"Coward."

T'Challa rolls his eyes and turns the camera back around as Nakia laughs harder. He will be mopey now, for sure. "I am not taking you to stare at a soldier's office with us."

"Why not?"

"To start with, I refuse to be trapped in a car with you for that amount of time."

"You should be so lucky! Now, what is the real reason."

"What part of royal family do you not—"

"You get to go to these things."

"And when you leave your lab long enough to learn to use the spears of your foremothers, that privilege can extend to you."

"Okoye is always ready to teach you, Shuri," Nakia offers up diplomatically. 

"I do not need a spear to sit in a car annoying my brother," Shuri argues. They always do this to her. She is tired of it.

"You do not need to sit in a car annoying your bother at all." The moping has already started. She can hear it in T'Challa's voice.

"Fine. I will go to Ava's house and stay there while—"

"No."

Shuri slams her hands down on her desk, making the various instruments on it rattle precariously. "She is my family, too!"

There's silence on the other end in the wake of her anger. Then the camera turns again, this time by Nakia's hand. She doesn't stop the spin until it's pointed to show her and T'Challa. He does not look as annoyed anymore. He looks guilty.

Nakia gives her a sympathetic smile. "No one is trying to take that from you. We are only trying to keep you safe. We do not know how far Alec is willing to take things."

"And I am not willing to present the man with more temptations of power," T'Challa adds, the guilt on his face shifting to resignation. "It is not simply because I am afraid of our mother. I agree with her. And with our father. Alec Harlow is a man that is losing everything. That is a powerful motivator, Shuri."

"I am not afraid of that spineless demon," Shuri insists angrily. "I could handle him myself, thank you very much."

"Half the school children in Wakanda could," Nakia mocks under her breath.

She gets a stern look from T'Challa before he focuses it on Shuri. "It is not his strength we are concerned with. It is the allies he can call upon at any time. Men with strength and resources that we do not wish to deal with."

Some of the fight leaves her. Not much, but it does ebb. Her brother might be an idiot, but he is right about this. Ava would not be this afraid for no reason. She has been trying to disguise it when Nakia brings her for visits, which is how Shuri knows it is serious.

"I hate that man, brother." The word is far too inadequate. The contempt she holds for the worm who put fear in the heart of her favorite mad scientist feels immeasurable.

"As do I. As do we all." T'Challa smiles at her finally, his face softening. "I promise to bring you to hit him if he is ever arrested. That is when I will deem it safe enough."

"How many times?" she chases after quickly. "Can I bring a weapon?"

"You can bring exactly one weapon. Can you guess what it is?" The smile turns sarcastic as he reaches out and turns the camera back around to face Alec's office window. 

"I do not need a spear to break that man."

"No, you need it so I can stop being lectured by Okoye for enabling your avoidance of tradition."

"That will not help. She wishes for me to sit through her lessons. I would just bring the spear to hit him over the head with."

Nakia laughs, the sound light and soothing. "I am surprised you did not go straight for the idea of skewering him."

Tilting her head down at her desk, Shuri hesitates. She picks up the ridiculous coffee mug Ava got her, spinning it around in her hands with somber movements. 

Ava's last visit had been especially hard to stomach. The woman had looked so... empty as she talked about the start of the divorce. There had been no vengeful joy in her as she told Shuri's father she understood the gravity of the situation. No hard-won victory in her posture. There had only been grief and shame.

Shuri sighs, turning away from the screen to head for her lab's kitchen. She is going to fill the mug with one of the teas that Ava brings her. It will be a nice change from the energy drinks she has been binging. "No. I... I do not wish the man dead. I only wish to see him locked away somewhere he can never smile again."

—author end notes—

there’s one sentence in this chapter that is 14 words long (including contractions) that is the entire foundation of their incoming dom/sub and oh my g o d when i tell you that shit was cathartic to write 😫🤌 some day when this is finished, im gonna write a whole goddamn dissertation on that one sentence and all the narrative shit that tied into it in this fic so help me (YOURE ALLOWED TO GUESS BTW)

anyways, everyone is alive in wakanda bc i said so. and nakia and t’challa are really stupid uber mega important to ava’s backstory

i feel like we’ve all, as a species, Been Through Enough. you can talk my ear off abt anything, but dont talk to me abt the opening of wakanda forever i will Literally Die, i havent cried that hard over the first watch of a movie in so fucking long and i dont think im strong enough for a second. all i ever need for binging is winter soldier and black panther anyhow (FATWS is still growing on me and i only like it so far bc im a sambucky shipper. and a stucky shipper. and a 3 musketeer shipper. and a—i like making buckaroo be in love a lot. lets just. leave it at that). we can stop with the big owies thanks. let me escape to the fictional world where everyone is alive and Nothing Hurts, t h a n k s.

well. okay. some things are gonna hurt in this. probably really super bad too and youre gonna be really really mad at me when it hits. but like. theyre set up for comfort pay off so does it even really count??? i didnt think so, ty for agreeing 😌

ily 💖 tyty for reading 💞 and tyty in advance for yelling at me when i eventually hurt u ❤️🥰 i will understand, its okay, u are entitled to the emotional compensation on that one

[passionesolja]

Here is the fun part, taking this mf apart and explaining what tf I wrote and what it stole from. I’m going through this chapter by chapter. Imo, a lot of this is ripped from the OG books. I always heard rumors of the AI stealing Ao3 fanfics but I didn’t wanna give too much of a damn. I don’t think it matters if you delete or private the fanfics because the first 4 or so books in OG blood Tribune were deleted (bc I wanted to make the story better) and it still ripping me off

Chapter 1: Echos of the Past

Right off the bat, the AI has stolen my words. I know that introduction to the Sith Pureblood society because I wrote it. It was my concept and my writing. Even the word “Council of Blood” is ripped off of the Blood Tribune name because what is another for Tribune? COUNCIL. But of course, the bullshit AI doesn’t realize any nuance or even in-universe reasons for why Tribune is used.

Now, it does take some stuff from Korriban. Like the “Sith Purebloods embracing their culture” BUT, it steals that idea from me and it also guts all nuance and style I put into that idea. Because this lil dumb ass bitch is a robot. It doesn’t understand Star Wars lore like me, it can only steal from me.

Chapter 2: The Hidden Citadel Deep

This chapter steals 2 separate concepts and meshes them. The Hidden Citadel is ripped off of the Hand Citadel, and the idea of it being an military base underground where Sith operate is ripped from the Jen’Ari Imperium—an humancentric Sith Order style cult who operated underground. I have no idea why the fuck the computer thinks the Sith would be hiding underground on Korriban but go off ig

The stuff with Ardan isn’t from me, but I can tell it’s an generic Sith Pureblood/Sith Empire character like dude is generic. This is like Swtor Sith Warrior level boilerplate. Which is fine but like don’t take my whole story that I put my life force into lmao

Chapter 3: the path of ascendancy

This is just swtor. They ripping off the swtor warrior and inquisitor stories. It ain’t got none to do with me.

Chapter 4: Shadows of Intrigue

The whole “while the sith enjoy a tenuous peace within their civilian, darkness looms overhead” COULD be read as ripping off my ideas for the Blood Tribune. But I’m sure they don’t mean it in the same context so I’m just going to say it’s an generic thing. Again, like I could be a bitch and say “hey that steals my idea of the different cultures within the Blood Tribune always being kinda at odds with each other” but ima not nitpick.

Chapter 5: Shadows of Intrigue

Much the same boiler plate bullshit that’s so painfully boring and drab that a mf yawning but ima say that I do see subtle things it’s stolen. Like yes it don’t make sense for Korriban sith knowledge to be hidden from sith who live on Korriban, but in OG blood tribune, the fact that Sith don’t truly know shit about Korriban is a plot point so ima say that mfs have bit from me.

Chapter 6 and Epilogue

Again it’s a mix of my concepts and the generic sith empire/fantasy tropes. I really don’t got much to say other than an AI could never do what tf I’m doing so anybody who says AI is the future is wrong bc mf it steals ideas and concepts so really humanity is the future

Tagline

"Sith Pureblood Chronicles: Bloodlines of Korriban" explores the rich and complex society of the Sith Purebloods, delving into their customs, politics, and spiritual beliefs. It is a tale of power and ambition, highlighting the eternal struggle for dominance within a civilization consumed by the dark side. As Ardan navigates the treacherous landscape of his people, he must confront his own demons and ultimately decide the fate of the Sith Purebloods

This tag line is an absolute rip off of the summary I used. Mf I wrote that. Mf that my swag. That my drip. Seeing that last part is what inspired me to even share my thoughts on the fact that I know have confirmation that AI is actively stealing my shit.

How do I feel as an writer about having my work now easily accessible for plagiarism?

Ngl, it don’t feel good. It don’t feel good knowing that some AI nerd Star Wars fan may one day just steal my ideas, concepts, and work and just re-package it as something else. Mfs not even stumbling across the same idea as me by chance, they just stealing it. I will stunt and flex and say that Blood Tribune is original given what subject matter and concepts it has.

However, now everyday I gotta now live with the knowledge that some tech-bro or lazy fuck may just generate an gutted and highly watered down version of my story and just have it published.

I’m not a crab in a bucket ass bitch but goddamn dawg I’ve been developing this book since 2019, have over 1k pages of it written and I put heart and thought into this. Reading an mindless clone of my writing is a lil irksome or some shit.

The takeaway

Bitch any mf who tell you “ai is the future, writers watch out” is lying. Mf this shit (even if it stole) was TRASH. Like I get it, it’s a summary blah blah blah but mfs steal my ideas and can’t even do it right. I do not think AI will replace humans because the computer ain’t as innovative and creative and 5D chess as me so it had to steal.

ChatGPT is trash and it had my whole original idea and still made it generic. Yeah

I can’t believe that ChatGPT ripped off pieces of my fanfic Blood Tribune. So, I’m going to post it below the cut and then let y’all read it. I’ll post my commentary of what I think the computer stole from me after the cut.

The CHAT GPT Rip Off of Blood Tribune

Title: "Sith Pureblood Chronicles: Bloodlines of Korriban"

Chapter 1: Echoes of the Past

Centuries have passed since the fall of the Sith Empire, and on the remote world of Korriban, the Sith Purebloods have carved out their own independent civilization. Shielded from the prying eyes of the galaxy, their society thrives in secrecy. Led by the Council of Blood, a ruling body of ancient Sith Lords, the Sith Purebloods embrace their heritage and continue their pursuit of power through the dark side of the Force.

Chapter 2: The Hidden Citadel Deep

within the catacombs of Korriban lies the Hidden Citadel, a sacred stronghold where the Sith Purebloods conduct their rituals and train in the ways of the dark side. Aspiring Sith warriors, such as the protagonist, Ardan, strive to prove themselves and earn a place among the elite. Ardan, born with potent Force sensitivity, carries the weight of his family's legacy and seeks to unleash his full potential.

Chapter 3: The Path of Ascendancy

Ardan embarks on a treacherous journey to master the Sith arts. Under the guidance of his enigmatic mentor, Darth Veritus, he learns to harness his anger, fear, and pain, channeling them into raw power. Alongside his fellow Sith acolytes, Ardan faces grueling trials and duels, testing not only his combat prowess but also his resilience and cunning.

Chapter 4: Shadows of Intrigue

While the Sith Purebloods enjoy a tenuous peace within their civilization, darkness looms on the horizon. An ambitious Sith Lord, Darth Maldera, plots to overthrow the Council of Blood and seize control of Korriban. Manipulative and ruthless, Maldera's actions threaten to unravel the fragile balance that has kept the Sith Purebloods united for centuries. Ardan finds himself entangled in a web of political intrigue as loyalties are tested and alliances are forged.

Chapter 5: Forbidden Knowledge

As Ardan delves deeper into the mysteries of the Sith Purebloods' past, he uncovers a hidden archive containing forbidden knowledge. The ancient texts reveal the secrets of forgotten Sith rituals, lost techniques, and untapped sources of power. Ardan becomes consumed by the desire to unlock these ancient arts, even if it means challenging the Council's authority and risking the wrath of Darth Maldera.

Chapter 6: The Battle for Korriban

The tension between Darth Maldera's faction and the Council of Blood escalates into open conflict. Ardan must choose a side, torn between loyalty to his heritage and his own quest for personal growth. The Sith Purebloods' civilization becomes a battleground as rival factions clash, unleashing devastating displays of Force power. Ardan's choices will not only shape his own destiny but also determine the future of the Sith Purebloods. Epilogue: Legacy Reborn After a cataclysmic clash between Darth Maldera and the Council of Blood, the Sith Purebloods stand at a crossroads. Ardan emerges as a pivotal figure, leading the remnants of his people towards a new era of unity and strength. Guided by the lessons of their tumultuous history, the Sith Purebloods reaffirm their commitment to the dark side and forge a path towards greatness.

"Sith Pureblood Chronicles: Bloodlines of Korriban" explores the rich and complex society of the Sith Purebloods, delving into their customs, politics, and spiritual beliefs. It is a tale of power and ambition, highlighting the eternal struggle for dominance within a civilization consumed by the dark side. As Ardan navigates the treacherous landscape of his people, he must confront his own demons and ultimately decide the

[hisbutler-problematic]

On the topic of Sebastian being completely enthralled about everything Ciel is, I personally love it so much more knowing manga context, because O!Ciel was the 'spare'. He was not supposed to carry the family nane and, frankly, people didn't think he'd be capable of it due to his poor health anyway (Remember Frances and Vincent's conversation in the flashback chapters? It's obvious O!Ciel was quite saddened by what he heard).

By all means, in a twisted way, Sebastian might just be the first person to regard O!Ciel as someone deeply capable, a shiny singularity that doesn't live in anyone's shadow. The adults around him were - tho not unrightfully - seeing his fragility first and foremost while his brother, despite seeing him as worthy, didn't wish for him to leave and forge his own path. R!Ciel's reaction came from childishness sure, but that isn't to say that it didn't feed into the idea that O!Ciel was 'his backup'.

Going off from this, Sebastian is also the one thing in his life and is irrevocably his. Again, twisted, but all O!Ciel built has been under another's name. The manor, the company, the engagement etc. None of them truly his, but his brother's. And the other servants? They are loyal, however ultimately their own people. Sebastian? In an entirely different spot. He'll be there until the end after all.

This is an aspect of their relationship that tugs at my heartstrings so much. It's so toxic and depressing yet strangely soft and tender somewhat at least to me.

Sorry, I just really wanted to pour my thoughts and I appreciate your posts. So here I am!

anon, i’m in love with you

i literally think about this all the time like. that conversation frances and vincent had? imo vincent just flippantly saying "i guess ill just have to give the estate back to the queen lmao" could be taken 2 ways which is: at face value OR (what i think is more likely) vincent just saying what he knows will piss frances off to get her to stop talking. tbh vincent seems like a good dad imo and like he doesnt super underestimate o!ciel (he seemed absolutely fine with the idea of o!ciel going off to london by himself and opening a toy store in the future), but he DOES know that o!ciel is frail and sickly, and it makes me wonder how seriously he considered the idea that o!ciel might inherent the title of the queen's watchdog.

honestly, i feel in some respects, r!ciel treats o!ciel more carefully than their parents. he very much has an attitude of "my baby brother NEEDS me, he cannot survive without me!!" (gasps and shock, to learn it is actually the other way around /s)

all this to say, whether you lean more towards my interpretation or yours, or a fun mix, or whatever, it is undeniable that all of o!ciel's relationships were 'tainted' (for lack of a better term) by his illness and the way it made others view him and treat him.

AND THEN COMES SEBASTIAN

sebastian, who takes one look at o!ciel, and goes "lmao what a fucked up lil dude. time for little a snacky". sebastian, who then sits down to forge a contract with said little dude only to realize Oh Okay So This Child Is Clever. And o!ciel being sickly does kind of come up when they're making the contract, but sebastian focuses more on the actual logistics of that and o!ciel says 'nvm we'll deal w it when it comes up' (which is hilarious imo. he really said a sudden chill can put me on my deathbed but thats a problem for future me).

and then it turns out o!ciel is hella sheltered. but also a huge bitch.

and at this point, all i can assume is sebastian is so bewildered by this experience that the fact that o!ciel is frail and sickly and fragile is like. just another thing about this kid. o!ciel has never made sebastian's life easy and it would be stupid to think he would start now, sebastian thinks as his young master suffers from yet another cold just bc it rained yesterday. "i never knew you had asthma" says sebastian, who has read every medical journal to date on chest colds. "you never asked," says the bane of sebastian's existence.

and the thing is you can say "sebastian is only worried about o!ciel bc if o!ciel dies, he loses his meal" which is true and accurate and tbh if i was sebastian and i had put up w that much, i wouldn't want to lose my meal to a mere cough.

BUT ALSO

then you see the way sebastian is so fascinated and intrigued and bewitched by o!ciel. i think to sebastian the fact that o!ciel is frail and sickly is just another contradiction in the sea of contradictions that makes o!ciel so fascinating. and i think sebastian is the only one who really sees all those contradictions, he's the only one who sees everything that makes up o!ciel. and he loves what he finds.

(not to mention the fact that sebastian is the only person o!ciel allows to see his every aspect. or, well, some he tries to hide, but only because he thinks sebastian will try to use something against him. either way, sebastian is still the only person who he lets see the most of him. because sebastian is the only person who knows who he really is, who he doesnt have to put up a front for. he doesn't have to pretend to be his brother, he doesn't have to worry about being the spare.)

[masonscig]

Man. I won't say I'm disappointed with this book, but I think the series is a whole lot better when the focus is on things being done TO the mc vs random people suffering because x wants their blood

Like, book one was about Murphy going after the mc. Simple clear threat that fits the tone of the books. Sure some other people died but I don't think it hindered anything

i liked book 2 because it was just a genuine supernatural problem. The carnival guys who's name I can't remember rn were just having a simple conflict of interest with wayhaven. I'm not mad at the trappers coming in at the end but I think a simple low stakes ending where they sign the treaty or don't would have been just as fitting

But book 3 was absolutely not ready to actually handle the dark topics it wanted to devle into. The scope of the plot was way to wide and it still managed to feel slow. If it were up to me I would have just had the trappers going after addie with no connection to mc. It would be lower stakes than like. A dozen or whatever kidnappings and wouldn't have made the actual romance (you know the focus of the books?) Feel so out of place tone wise.

Sorry for rambling into your ask box lol I just have many thoughts about book 3 (like the fact that on steam it sits alphabetically between book 1 and 2 so my steam games list goes 1 3 2. That's going to bug me forever)

HI <3 before i respond, don't apologize for leaving a long ask in my inbox! i absolutely love getting asks and especially ones that open up discussions! <3 thank you for this !! answering below the cut

you're so right about the differences between books. it's so much better when it's contained – the story for this was just too big for her to get her hands around. and that's awesome that she was ambitious! the story quality just suffered a lot bc of it. dude i LOVE that it was just One Guy Versus Unit Bravo for a while, because it was just so much more focused and allowed for more romance to bloom – and a huge reason i liked falk so much is that, like you said, it was a conflict of interest. he's not evil – just from another world with another cultural standard for "judgment". in book 3, it's literally a human (or supernatural in this case) rights violation. these are children – being kidnapped and attempted to be sold. this isn't a story that should have any lighthearted plot beats in the slightest – unless they were organic, and none of them felt that way

it's funny (not funny haha, funny weird) you say that about addie, because i was having an in depth discussion with friends about how much better the plot would flow if less people had been kidnapped. even just the idea that there are supernatural youth existing in wayhaven and that it is in fact, not safe for anyone! human or supernatural!

this book is just lacking the emotional impact plot-wise that it should, in my opinion, because she tried to cram so much into one book. that doesn't mean any of the plot points are bad, per se, they just needed to be workshopped, edited down, saved for later books, cut out completely – whatever makes the series flow better! and that's not to say any of these ideas are bad ideas – it's just unrealistic to write literally every possible idea for twc! there's going to be a point where there's too much to call back to and it's going to affect the story if those things aren't mentioned again yk?

also STOP ITS OUT OF ORDER ON STEAM??? LMAOOOO the cherry on top to a shit sundae huh.

[1kook]

disney+ & bust

this is part of my netflix & chill collection !

summary; There’s a pounding on your door a little past noon, so hard and rough, that you almost think it’s the police finally coming to catch you for all your years of illegally pirating Phineas and Ferb. It’s not. It’s just a really drunk boyfriend wailing for your forgiveness at the door.  warnings; arguments, feelings of insecurity, bit of asshole jk, smut in the forms of degradation, dumbification, choking, fingering, spit kink, self punishment, unprotected but [ passionate ] sex, jk losing his cool, return of mean jk, he is actually an emotional mess in this one wtf miscellaneous; ANGST, anniversaries, the L word😳, app developer kook, rip ‘pretty girl’ </3, we all become phineas and ferb stans word count; 13k !!

notes; me: *writes couple who’s whole arc is being silly* y’all: MAKE THEM SUFFER GIVE US ANGST!! u ask I deliver so now we all suffer 😐 ngl it was hard writing this fic n u might notice there’s some parts that seem weird n that’s bc this was TWO fics w diff wording but I ended up mixing them bc I’m insane. still had a lot of fun! felt like I challenged myself!! not proofread bc when I say we suffer we SUFFER

please let me know what you think!!! a simple ask goes a long way <3

previous part: kissanime & foreplay

Approximately one week after The Bullet Bestie’s rise to prominence, Jungkook grows annoyed with it as his weirdly competitive nature rears its ugly head the more and more orgasms that little vibrator coaxes out of you. It turns on a weird switch in him, something slightly stuck up and snooty that he’ll never admit to out loud but is there nonetheless. By the following Friday, The Bullet Bestie is nestled deep in your garbage can and Jungkook’s back to pleasuring you with his tongue and fingers alone.

He had those moments in him, the ones where he liked to think he was better than any and everyone else, and occasionally they manifested against inanimate objects like a bullet vibrator.

Despite his polite and generally soft exterior, you catch glimpses of that cocky spirit more than anyone else. Over the past year, you’ve come to realize that Jungkook’s personality was like a coin that had been left out in the sun too long. He had this sweet and reserved nature you saw most times, a kindhearted boyfriend who adored you almost as much as you adored him. He was your angel whom you knew had a heart of gold, even if you were slowly bringing out his more childish tendencies. You knew him like the back of your hand, knew what his mom’s favorite color was and how he liked to stack the plates in his cabinet according to size and make. It was a side that was rusted from years of being out in the sun, basking in its adoring warmth, and you loved every inch about it.

And still, there was this other side to him you rarely saw. This cocky asshole who hid beneath the soft smiles and careful hands, making his appearance only through sly smirks and a tongue prodding against the inside of his cheek. He was a braggart, a man who knew his greatness yielded for no one and wanted that fact shoved down everyone’s faces. This Jungkook, this other side that never saw the light of day, was like the Hyde to his Jekyll. An unexpected, almost mean side to him that only dared make his appearance when his exhilaration was at an all-time high. Like when he was fucking you into another dimension, or kicking your ass in Mario Kart, or like now, when he was receiving an award at an annual tech ceremony.

On the eve of your one year anniversary, Jungkook’s company invites him to an awards ceremony for other web and app developers like him. It’s a grand event, filled with all the biggest nerds in the developing industry here to present the baby nerds with awards. Jungkook lies somewhere in the middle of the spectrum, both a seasoned player and a rookie all at once. He spends the night tolling you around in a floor-length gown and fangirling over all the “legends” in the room.

You know next to none of these people and none of their accomplishments but still pretend you respect them to hell and back. By the end of the main dinner, you’re sympathizing with Barbie’s ever-smiling features because your cheeks feel sore.

Towards the end of the night, Jungkook wins that random award— okay, who were you fooling? He wins the Platinum Mobile Standard of Excellence Award, recognizing him for all the hard work you’ve seen him put in this past year. It’s probably the highest recognition he can receive at this point in his career. It was an esteemed award that was bestowed upon only the most innovative developer of the year among tech companies, something Jungkook had briefly mentioned he always wanted. It’s basically the equivalent of placing first place in his field, but given Jungkook’s competitive industry and his young age, you think it’s like telling all these old Facebook lords to suck his big fat cock. (But that was your job when you got home.)

He gives a short little thank you speech, promising to work hard and own up to this title. The people around you are swooning, obviously endeared with his soft puppy dog features and melodic voice. They don’t know him like you do, don’t know that uppity twist to his grin like you do. It doesn’t slip off his face even when he steps down off the stage, arms wide open as he comes barreling towards you. Even with you in his arms, the congratulations that are thrown from every direction ring loudly in his ears and swell that ego of his.

The night goes like that for the most part, Jungkook’s acquaintances approaching him every few minutes to rain down their praises. He goes a little crazy at the open bar after a while, shoving the gold trophy into your arms as his beloved work seniors whisk him off for drinks. You don’t mind because you resigned yourself to a night of playing Jungkook’s perfectly perfect partner anyway, watching him politely mingling with his coworkers. Despite his earlier success, you know he won’t brag about it verbally. No, he’ll wait until the two of you get home—your place or his—and remind you how amazing he is with a quick snap of his hips.

As you said, he’ll never boast aloud.

However, that doesn’t mean you won’t.

“That’s my boyfriend,” you explain to the seventh person that greets you that night, excitedly pointing to where said boyfriend was slowly losing all sense of self by the bar. You don’t know anyone here beside Jungkook, and you’re pretty sure no one in their hammered minds is going to remember who you are anyway, so a little gloating never hurt anyone. “He won the ‘I’m Better Than Everyone Else’ award tonight,” you emphasize to the tipsy woman beside you who only laughs at your exaggeration. You assume she’s like you, accompanying one of the many developers here, because as soon as you finish boasting about Jungkook she moves to brag about someone too.

Truth be told, you spend the whole night re-analyzing the Zootopia movie you saw on Disney+ the other night in your head. So if the little fox fellow didn’t control himself would the city have fallen to ruins? Why was the useless sheep girl so evil and bitter? Why was there an unreal amount of romantic tension between the fox and the rabbit? Whatever, you’ll have to rewatch it some other night, and with your new Disney+ account, you could watch it anywhere you wanted to.

Now, you had never bothered to purchase a Disney+ subscription or even tried to swindle Jungkook for his password before. As far as you know, Disney+ was filled with old tv shows from your childhood, sitcoms that made you laugh when you were ten. There’s nothing wrong with that, but personally, you were a firm believer that that which was perfect should not be touched once finished; in other words, you were utterly terrified you’d rewatch an old episode of The Wizards of Waverly Place, only to find out the same joke you’ve been regurgitating for the past ten years doesn’t actually go that way.

However, the harsh reality was that Disney+ was good for a few things. Ugh, you hate when giant corporations provide decent services. Aside from Zootopia, you’ve watched about every animated media on there as well, all of which you replay in your mind as Jungkook has the time of his life with these nerds, knocking back champagne glass after champagne glass.

Anyway, the night ends a little past midnight, and Jungkook who is buzzed on alcohol and high on exhilaration ends up calling an Uber for the two of you. Your apartment— the new one he had not only helped you hunt for but also helped you move into, greatly cutting the cost of movers out with those glistening biceps and thick thighs —is still going through her rebellious phase where the potted plants are trying to take over, courtesy of Kim Namjoon. So for now, there’s a potted plant in an awkward corner that both of you stub your toe against on your way to your bedroom.

You’re thinking Jungkook is going to go to town tonight, given the fact he’s on Cloud 9 and has had his ego stroked by a bunch of dudes for the past couple hours. Maybe you guys can try out the hot role-playing scenario you saw on GirlsWay a few weeks ago, or the handcuffs you impulsively bought from Amazon one Monday night. Or maybe, and this one really makes you flutter, he’ll let you fully take the reins for once.

All those lewd fantasies end up being for naught because just as you shimmy out of your gown (with the help of his hands, of course) and turn to climb him like a tree, he’s on the other side of the room getting your makeup remover out for you. And also talking. A lot. And way more than usual.

“Did you see him, babe?” he sighs, dare you to say, dreamily, handing you the cotton pads as he begins pulling a million pins out of your hair. Slowly and with a lot of confusion, you pull your fake lashes off and begin cleaning your face. “He was amazing.”

“Uh-huh,” you say, having absolutely no idea who ‘he’ is or why Jungkook is so in love with him and not you at this very moment. “But so were you,” you add. Perfect. Stroke his ego and then stroke his cock.

Jungkook sputters at your praise. He’s carefully placing your hairpins on your thigh, cheeks flaming red every time he leans over you. “Was I?” he murmurs, voice sweet in that cute little way it always gets when he’s downed one too many shots of whiskey, enough to be buzzed but not enough to be wasted.

You turn and the pins clatter to the floor and across the bedsheets. “Yes,” you confirm, ignoring his sad huff at the mess you’ve made. Instead, you grab him by the collar of that pink button-up he taunted you with all night. “You were fucking incredible and I think incredible men deserve to have their dick sucked.”

Jungkook laughs at your vulgar statement, holding you gently by the hips as you climb into his lap. “Is that so?” The soft, shy persona is gone now, replaced by the gentle stirring beneath his dress pants. You nod hurriedly, plopping down on his lap and running your hands through his styled hair.

“Yes,” you confirm, kissing the corner of his mouth. “Luckily for you, I know this nymphomaniac who would gladly gobble up your cock at your every command.”

He snorts just as you push him into his back, nose adorably scrunched up. “First of all, you know I hate that word,” he chuckles, finally gracing you with a sweet peck that only makes you want him to fuck you into the fifth dimension. “Secondly, please don’t ever say you’ll gobble my cock up ever again.”

Something inside of you squeals with excitement as he rolls the two of you over, firm body pressing down on yours. “Oh, baby,” you groan, lazily throwing a leg over his hip. Jungkook grins and then decides to entertain you for a few minutes with a sloppy kiss.

You say a few minutes because just as things are heating up, he pulls away. He smiles apologetically. “As much as I’d love to be here with you, I actually have an early morning tomorrow.”

You frown at the sudden change in events. “Huh? They’re gonna make you work the morning after a Gatsby party?” you gasp, sitting up as he gets off of you. With every step he takes away from the bed your heart breaks a little more. “They can’t do that— that’s illegal!”

From the doorway he levels you with a comically raised brow. “No, it’s not.”

You scamper after him down the hall, watch the muscles in his back flex as he pulls his suit jacket on. “You can’t work on our anniversary— that’s illegal!” you offer instead.

He stops at your front door, feet squeezed back into his shoes. “Baby, it’s not,” he rolls his eyes, leaning down to peck your forehead. “It was either I work in the morning or work at night,” he explains, giving your messy hair a soothing caress. He’s looking at you with those eyes, the ones that make your heart lodge itself into your throat and make life a tightrope experience. There’s a devastatingly lovesick part of you that wants this moment, this kind face, to be engraved into your mind for the rest of your life. You want this to be the first and last thought you have and nothing else: just Jungkook’s adoring gaze on you for the rest of time.

The moment ends too soon when he flutters one last peck against your lips. “I’ll be done in the afternoon, okay?”

You pout. “Okay, your place?” you huff, making sure to get one last octopus squeeze around his waist. He nods. “Promise you won’t be late?”

The corners of his gaze soften. “You know I won’t,” he smiles, leaning down to bump your noses together playfully. “Can’t stay away from my pretty girl too long. Besides, I have a gift for you tomorrow.”

It’s with that sentiment and a hammering heart that you let him go. With Jungkook gone, there’s really nothing for you to do now. You took the next two days off in preparation for your anniversary sex, so you don’t have to head to sleep early like usual.

With nothing else planned, you decide on rewatching that Zootopia movie that had plagued you all night, ready to dissect every plot hole to hell and back. You don’t think Jungkook’s seen this movie yet so you add it to your long list of animated movies you’re forcing him to watch.

Part of you is actually really surprised Jungkook left. Well, kinda sorta, very, but not really. Jungkook was a good boy, that much was obvious. He took his job seriously, and if his job wanted him to come in at the asscrack of dawn, then he’d come in before the sun even rose. He was a goody-two-shoes, but even so, you were occasionally able to bring out that darker side in him.

Jungkook working, like actually working in an office setting, was pretty rare though. The dude had a chill job that let him stay home most of the time, and essentially clock in whenever he wanted. Every now and then you were able to convince him to stay, tucking him beneath your body or the covers, depending on the night, and refusing to let him go the morning after.

Once he had eaten you out until the wee hours of the day, ravenous between your thighs, and then went to work the next morning like he hadn’t broken you. Another time you had persuaded him into watching every season of the 2017 DuckTales reboot through the night. When the alarm had rung in the middle of the season finale, he had simply gotten into your shower and gone off to work.

So maybe you were a little confident in your skills, and Jungkook slipping between your fingers tonight was a huge bummer. But there was no use crying over spilled milk, you tell yourself, flinging your bra off somewhere in the corner as you snuggle back into your sheets. You’re ready to tear this Zootopia movie apart, scene by scene.

Even though your apartment is a little cold, you’re comforted by the fact Jungkook will be here to keep you warm all day tomorrow.

All men do is lie.

Despite his promise to come home early the next day, Jungkook ends up lying. The meeting he had been in all morning— the same one that had stopped you from getting bent like a pretzel the night before —drags on well past noon. Then, Kim Namjoon, AKA Jungkook’s favorite senpai in the entire world, catches wind of Jungkook’s success last night and absolutely has to take him out to lunch to celebrate.

You scoff, glaring down at your phone and the impulsive messages you’d sent out an hour ago when Jungkook had first texted you telling you he would be late.

You whirl around to stomp off in the direction of his living room, where all of yours and Jungkook’s favorite foods were growing colder by the minute. You had spent the longest time carefully laying them out, making sure the fried chicken was closer than the pizza but not closer than the breadsticks. Truthfully it’s a nightmare. There are about eight stomach aches worth of food sitting on his coffee table, the greasy stench makes you gag and will certainly stick to your hair for weeks, but none of that mattered because it was all for your beau.

Your very late beau who was making you grow more and more agitated with each minute that passed. Ugh! How inconsiderate of him to test your patience on a day like this. You didn’t want to be upset with him, but this was your first, real milestone as a couple with him. You had wanted to spend the whole day cuddled up, maybe finally tell him how much he really meant to you— definitely not waking up alone with eyeliner crusted eyes and an aching heart.

Deciding you’re being a little too dramatic, you head into the bedroom to calm down. This was fine, you tell yourself, carefully laying out the damn near harlotrous lingerie you had yet to put on. Jungkook would come over soon and everything would be A-okay.

Except for the part it’s actually F-not okay because soon it’s nearing sunset and the food has gone cold so you’ve stocked it into the fridge, and the pretty sheer bra has a wonky wire that’s two seconds away from piercing through your heart, but that doesn’t even matter because Jungkook being late for your all-day anniversary celebration has already ripped it to shreds anyway.  

You plop down on the couch in defeat, impulsively opening up the Disney+ app to cry through another episode of Phineas and Ferb. You’ve abandoned the satin robe that came with the lingerie in favor of donning a big t-shirt that smells like him and makes your heart hurt even more. The setting sun paints the living room in muted oranges, the chirping of birds outside the soundtrack to your lonely day.

You end up watching some other cartoon on Disney+, avoiding the Marvel section because you had promised Jungkook he could be there when you lost your Marvel virginity. Well, at least one of you was good at keeping promises, you think bitterly. For a second, you think about randomly watching one of the infamous MCU films out of order just to spite him. But then you think of that soft puppy gaze and how disappointed he’d be in you.

Whatever! It wouldn’t ever match up to the way you felt now.

Anyway, you circle back. When you’re five episodes into Phineas and Ferb you hear the doorknob rattle.

You sit up just as the door swings open, visible from your spot on the couch. He meets your gaze almost immediately, big doe eyes caught in the act. What act? You’re not really sure. In fact, you don’t even know what you’re looking at when he walks in because he’s drowning in shopping bags. His lips twist into a grin. “Honey, I’m home,” he says playfully.

You don’t laugh.

Jungkook frowns, dumping all his bags down at the entrance before waddling over towards you. “Hey, what’s wrong?” he asks, coming to stand before you and cupping your face in his hands. He’s towering over you, so tall and gorgeous but for the first time, you’re not dazed by his beauty.

“Kook, you said you’d be back hours ago,” you say slowly, avoiding his gaze. You try to keep the frustration out of your voice, but you’ve had hours to dwell on it now, and those annoying cartoon characters, though charming at first, had only served to multiply your annoyance.  

Jungkook blinks, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I mean… yeah. But I got you presents?” he beams, glancing back at the mountainous pile he made by the door. You look over too. There are some luxury bags squeezed in between other shops you like, the occasional jewelers' logo on the side.

You stand with a sigh, sauntering off into the kitchen with him on your tail. “I don’t want presents,” you mumble, reaching to pour yourself a glass of water. You’re briefly aware of how childish you must seem. Jungkook hovers behind you.

“What? Yes, you do,” he says. “You had an entire wishlist on my Amazon of things you wanted.” It’s his turn to level you with an unreadable expression, slowly crossing his arms over his chest.

Your frown only deepens as you turn to match his stance against the counter. While it may be true that you did indeed have an entire list of impulsive items on his Amazon, that didn’t necessarily mean you wanted them all. Sometimes you just wanted to stare longingly at a pair of satin gloves without actually buying them. You don’t know how to explain this much to him. “They’re not…” you stop with another deep breath. “Forget it. Thank you for the presents.”

Now it’s Jungkook’s turn to question you. “What,” he says in an unimpressed tone, padding over to you before you can escape back into the living room to watch the entire princess movie collection on Disney+. “No, tell me what’s wrong.”

For some reason, that’s exactly what you don’t want to hear. “Jungkook,” you say flatly, narrowing your eyes at him. “You come home six hours after you said you would without telling me why, and normally I wouldn’t care, but today was supposed to be a special day for us.”

Jungkook reels at your bluntness. “Babe, I was out getting stuff for you. I know it’s our anniversary— that’s why I wanted to treat you,” he responds, oddly condescendingly like you’re a child who doesn’t understand what exactly he was doing.

You brush his hands away from your shoulders. “Yeah,” you huff. “Now I know that. But I spent all day waiting for you,” you stress, chest puffing as you grow more and more agitated by his inability to understand you. God, can he let you go now? At least a bunch of animated, geometrically drawn cartoons won’t question you like this and make you feel as childish as he was.

When he doesn’t say anything else you stomp back into the living room, snatching up your phone from its forgotten spot against the couch. “I’m going to bed.”

At that Jungkook seems to kickstart back to life. “What? ___, it’s barely six,” he says as he follows after you into your bedroom. You ignore him, shuffling beneath the covers. In all actuality, you’re going to bed to mope and watch more animated family shows, maybe cry under the guise of the plot just being so sad. Jungkook sits beside you just as you click back on to finish off your episode. “Baby, I don’t get it,” he sighs. “You’re always talking about how much you want this or that, and I go out and get you it all but now you’re mad?”

You bite down on your lip, eyes lasered in on the pictures moving before you. “Jungkook, just forget it.”

“No,” he says, more sternly than he’s ever been with you before. “If there’s a problem, tell me.” There’s a heavy pause, and then he says, “don’t make me waste my time guessing what’s wrong, okay?” 

“Waste your time?” you scoff, sitting up with pinched brows that you find match his. “I’m not trying to waste anyone’s time— in fact, that’s hot coming from you, Jungkook.”

He rolls his eyes. “What are you even saying? You’re mad because I took a little long getting presents, for you, might I add,” he huffs, plopping down on the edge of the mattress beside your knee. “You’re always saying you want this and that, but you can’t handle me going out to get those things? Do you hear how weird you sound?”

You whip the covers off of you. “Me talking about things doesn’t always mean I want them,” you defend.

Jungkook snorts. “Yes, it does,” he says. “Anytime you ramble about stuff for minutes like a little kid it’s because you want me to buy it for you.”

You blink. “Like a little kid?” you repeat, stunned by his comparison. Granted, you always knew you were the more childish of the two, but you never thought that would equate Jungkook thinking of you as a child. Something red and nasty flares in your chest. “Well sorry,” you spit, crossing your arms over your chest defensively, “sorry we all can’t be perfectly mature golden boys who would never see the light of day if I constantly wasn’t dragging them out.” You know it’s a somewhat low blow, especially because Jungkook’s told you before how his introverted tendencies were a sensitive issue growing up, but you can’t help it.

Jungkook groans, dropping his head into his hands. “Baby, don’t do this now,” he warns, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes. “Stop acting like this.”

“Like how?” you spit, “like a kid?” Jungkook says nothing, leveling you with a blank stare from the corner of his eye. You roll your eyes, phone falling off your lap. Another episode of Phineas and Ferb had started, the corny opening tune filling the space between the two of you. “At least now I know what you think of me,” you mutter over the guitar riff.

“Oh my god,” Jungkook blurts, sitting up wildly. “Of course I’m gonna think of you as a stupid little kid, look at you,” he seethes, gesturing at the phone beside you. You flinch. “All you do is watch kids shows and whine whenever I wanna watch anything normal adults watch. You complain every single day about the most normal things, like your job? Why should I fucking care that you’re working a dead-end office job in a field you didn’t even study for— that’s not my problem, __!” he snaps, eyes narrowed into little slits. “I just won an award last night,” he says suddenly, voice back to its regular volume. “I’m at the height of my career and I’m only going up, but I can’t even enjoy that because I have to come home and cater to you,” he finishes, a loud scoff punctuating the final word.

You had never imagined Jungkook finally bragging about himself would be at your expense.

A beat of silence passes, the angry glint in his eyes quickly fading away the longer you don’t say anything. You sniff once, turning your head idly to the side where Phineas and Ferb is still blaring loudly from your phone speaker. Picking up the device, you throw it across the room where it hits his closet door with a terrifying bang the breaks the silence.

The sound snaps Jungkook out of whatever shock he’d been in. “Baby…” he says slowly, carefully, like you’re a caged animal that’s just escaped the zoo.

“I’m going home,” you say, also a little too calmly. You saunter over towards his closet where your shattered phone screen glares up at you as you yank a pair of sweats off a hanger. Jungkook is still frozen on the edge of the bed, watching you with wide eyes as you move about the room.

It’s when you’re in the hallway leading downstairs that Jungkook finally snaps out of his daze, scampering behind you as you descend the stairs. “Baby,” he rushes out, loudly bounding down after you, “___, wait,” he gasps, catching you by the kitchen counter collecting your keys. “I-I didn't mean that,” he rushes out, eyes wide and frantic as they flicker over your expression. “I don’t think that—I don’t, baby, please, just… let me explain, please.”

“Jungkook, let go of me,” you respond, shaking your wrist in an attempt to release yourself. He’s not even holding you tightly— he never would—but the sound of your heart pounding in your ears makes your movements jerky and erratic. “I wanna go home.”

“No,” he chokes, cornering you against the counter. “No, baby, please just listen to me, I-I—“

“You what, Jungkook?” you snap, placing a hand on his chest and forcefully pushing him away. He lets you, stepping back with a wobbly bottom lip. “You need to tell me how you’re too good for me? How much I hold you down because I wasn’t lucky enough to get a job like yours straight out of college?” He says nothing, swallowing roughly as you jab a finger into his chest. “Well let me tell you something,” you snarl, chest heaving, “I may be childish and a huge complainer, but I’m not stupid enough to let someone walk all over me like this.”

With that, you make your great escape. Truthfully, you don’t want him to see the tears in your eyes as you yank his door open, stomping down his steps and in the direction of the nearest bus stop. The door opens right after you tug it shut, painting your shadow across the sidewalk. There’s the scrambled sound of house slippers against the concrete that follows you down. “Go the fuck back inside,” you snap without missing a beat.

Sensing your obvious anger, he pauses before he can reach you. “Text me when you get home?” he calls out quietly.

“No,” you respond.

You would never admit to anyone that you spend the entire night eating a tub of mint chocolate ice cream. It’s disgusting and makes you gag, but it’s the only one you have in your apartment. And of course, it was brought over by none other than Jeon Jungkook himself a few days ago. Even when you’re trying to comfort yourself over how mean he was, on your anniversary night no less, you’re plagued by thoughts of him everywhere.

As much as you want to brush his words off, put on that cool girl exterior you’ve maintained since high school, there’s something different about this situation. You guess it’s impossible to brush off such hateful words when they come from someone you love and adore so much.

Were you too childish? You had always believed that side of you was what made your relationship with Jungkook so perfect. The two of you meshed well because of your differences, like yin and yang. So how had he been able to so easily deconstruct every inch of that balance in a matter of a few seconds? Was this perfect reality all in your head this whole time?

You want to tell yourself it was just a heat of the moment outburst from Jungkook, give him the benefit of the doubt because he’s never snapped at you like this before. Of course you’ve fought a couple of times in the past year, but neither of you had ever stooped as low as you did yesterday. Furthermore, the insecure part of your brain says he obviously felt this somewhere in his heart to bring it up at all. What he had said to you wasn’t something someone could make up on the spot.

You don’t text him when you get home, partly to spite him, but mainly because you had left your phone at his place anyway. You know he tried calling you last night because the call log is synced up to your laptop. He called on and off for about thirty minutes before he probably found your phone in his room. Whatever, he can mope in his regret for all you care

—is what you wanna say, but the longer he goes without showing himself to you the more your insecurities and hurt fester. Was this it? Was this the end of what was probably the best year of your life? It’s too painful to think about, to even consider the possibility that Jungkook might have gained a new insight last night and decided, hey, maybe this is for the best after all.

You drown yourself in an ungodly amount of sugar for breakfast, your laptop blaring yet another episode of Phineas and Ferb on the dining table. Muscle memory has you making Jungkook’s favorite pancakes before you can stop yourself, and by the time you do realize, you’ve resigned yourself to the blueberry smell anyway.

There’s a pounding on your door a little past noon, so hard and rough, that you almost think it’s the police finally coming to catch you for all your years of illegally pirating Phineas and Ferb.

It’s not.

It’s just a really drunk boyfriend wailing for your forgiveness at the door. You open the door with a fright, jumping back when he slumps forward and almost crashes face-first into the floor. “You didn’t call,” Jungkook cries, leaning a little too much of his weight onto you when you reach out to steady him.

The thundering of your heart slows upon registering it’s him. “Kook?” you frown, nose pinched at the ungodly stench of alcohol wafting off his clothes. “Have you been drinking?” you ask even though the answer is staring you right in the face (and in the nose).

He groans, staggering deeper into your arms. You blindly push the door shut behind him, resigning yourself to this new situation while your pancakes grow cold in the other room. “Baaaby,” he slurs, letting you guide him into the living space. He’s unceremoniously dumped onto the couch, half-opened eyes gazing up at you. “Let me,” a hiccup, “explain.”

You won’t lie. There’s a very obvious sense of discomfort sitting in your chest, torn between two paths that you don’t wish to choose between. His skin is warm and flushed like he’s just walked all the way here in this morning sun. You step over to the window that faces down onto the street below. There’s no sign of his car; you would have killed him if he ever tried to drive in this state.

“Did you walk here?” you ask instead, deciding there’s no need for one singular path, not when you can walk straight down the middle, both cleaning him and grilling him at the same time.

Jungkook’s response is delayed, head lolling from side to side as you help him out of his sweater. His skin is sweaty beneath, scorching to the touch. “Uh-huh,” he groans. Jesus, you sort of assumed but him confirming it really set things into perspective.

By no means did you and Jungkook live on opposite ends of the earth. On a good day, a drive from your place to his took about ten minutes. But walking? Easily an hour. Had he walked all the way from his place, drunk on top of that?

You brush his hair away from his face, his eyes fluttering shut at your touch. His lips are pouty yet chapped, dehydrated from the sun and the alcohol he reeks of. “Sit up for me,” you instruct, scampering off to your room for chapstick and water.

“Anything for you,” Jungkook wheezes, throat probably dryer than a desert. When you return, he’s two seconds from face planting into the coffee table and breaking that pretty face of his. You catch him with a hand on his shoulder, keeping him balanced. “Tell me what to do,” he chokes out, voice hoarse.

“Just need you to drink some water,” you say, pressing a cup against his lips. He drinks it, but a drop still dribbles down his chin.

“No,” he groans, catching your wrist in his hand when you reach up to apply some chapstick on him. “Tell me what to do,” he stresses, “to fix this. Fix us.”

His words make you pause, the tube of chapstick hovering over his plush lips. “You don’t have to do anything,” you respond quietly, trying to finish the application so you can pull away.

Jungkook doesn’t let you go. You try to look away, but there’s something about him that looks off. Maybe it’s the raw skin under his eyes, red and swollen. Or the sad droop to those same eyes that hold you captive. Or maybe it’s the subtle tremble in his hands, the fingers that hold tightly to your wrist, not to keep you there but to ground himself. “I don’t wanna lose you,” he rasps out, shakily bringing your hand to his mouth, where he presses one airy kiss to your knuckles. “Tell me ho-how to fix this and I’ll do it,” he pleads, a vulnerable look in his eyes.

Unable to withstand the sheer amount of agony on his expression, you look away. “___, please,” he chokes out, stumbling off the couch in his drunk and desperate haze until he’s kneeling in front of you. “I can’t… I can’t,” he sniffles, tears clouding those pretty eyes you’ve come to love so much. “I don’t know who I am without you.”

You clench your jaw. “You’re Jeon Jungkook,” you murmur, slipping your hand out of his hold to run through his hair. It’s knotted and a little too greasy, two things Jungkook would usually never allow. “This year’s Platinum Mobile Standard of Excellence Award recipient,” you remind him, trailing your thumb across his cheekbone when he turns to look up at you with those big Bambi eyes. “Sweet and shy, but you love being rowdy with your friends. You love movies and TV and organizing your shirts according to fabric type. You work harder than anyone I know and never complain. You date me, even though I’m a huge child,” you smile sadly.

“No!” he jumps, turning that frantic stare back into you. “Y-You’re not— it’s not,” he stammers, words still slurring together. “I’m a liar,” he cries, resting his forehead on your knees. His shoulders shake. “I don’t deserve you,” he weeps quietly. You place a hand on his shoulder. “Y-Y-You make my life so much better, ___, so colorful and fun. I-I wish I knew you in high school,” he admits, “maybe I wouldn’t have been so emotionally constipated now.”

“You’re not,” you reassure him softly.

He disagrees. “You bring out the best,” he hiccups, “the best in me.” Your heart skips in your chest. “I-I love you, you know that?”

You sputter, eyes wide at his sudden confession. “I… love you so much, y’know? I think about you ev-every night, ___,” he rambles, eyes dreamily gazing off into some miscellaneous spot on the wall behind you. “I can’t get you out of my head. Like you're a song, o-on repeat but it’s not annoying because it’s my favorite song, and I could listen to it for the rest of my life, y’know? My favorite song, I know all the words b-because it’s all I think about! I love... My love… I love you so much.”

“Kook,” you rush out, cheeks flaming as you try to pull him away from where he’s slumped over your legs. His passionate speech has you abuzz, body tingling everywhere until you feel overwhelmed, head spinning like you’re on a rollercoaster. “Let’s get you to bed.”

He nods sleepily, seemingly coming down from whatever alcohol induced rampage has allowed him to walk for an hour straight in this searing heat just to confess to you. “Y-You don’t have to say it back,” he continues to stutter as you guide him through the living room on wobbly legs. “I just-I just— can I?” he babbles. “Can I love you, ___?”

You pass through the kitchen space, where whatever you were watching on Disney+ is blaring loudly. It distracts Jungkook for about two seconds before his attention returns to you. When you don’t answer, he presses on. “Is that okay?” he asks, whirling around to face you, catching your shoulders in his hands. He towers over you by the entrance to your bedroom, dark curls tickling your forehead. His eyes are dark and glazed over, both in tears and an emotion so raw and unfiltered it squeezes around your chest until you can’t breathe. “Is it okay for me to love you?” he murmurs softly, knocking his nose against yours.

Your cheeks blaze. “Yes, th-that’s fine, Kook,” you blubber, placing a hand over his chest, where his heart is also hammering away. “Just need you to go rest now, okay?”

He nods sleepily, nudging your nose with his one last time, like a soft almost-kiss, before letting you push him into the room. “Yes, yes,” he breathes, his body finally crashing from his adrenaline spike. He flops down onto the bed unceremoniously, dark waves fanning across your pillows. You try to wiggle him out of his shirt, but it only gets about halfway up his chest before he blindly reaches for the covers. His legs stick out awkwardly, clad in the sweatpants you’ve come to associate with him.

When he’s all swaddled up in your blanket he finally goes limp, tiny snores leaving his lips as he dozes away from reality. You sigh, pressing a palm to his forehead. He’s still warm and clammy, but at this point, there’s nothing you can do but wait for him to sober up.

With a final kiss to his forehead, you leave the room, closing the door behind you before sliding against the wooden surface. There’s a trapped bird in your chest, wildly flapping its wings in an effort to get out, and it’s all stupid Jungkook’s fault in the next room. Stupid Jungkook who demolished and remodeled your heart all in less than twenty-four hours. It doesn’t calm down, even when you rush off into the kitchen for a glass of water, or when you try to immerse yourself in some other show on Disney+. It stays beating against your ribs and your chest until you’re forcing yourself to sit down on the couch and process.

He wakes up a little before dinner. You hear him from the living room, where you’re flicking through the options on Disney+ for the nth time that day. You’ve seen the first fifteen minutes of about twenty different series and movies by now, always growing antsy and abandoning them early on. The only reason you know he’s awake is because the shower turns on for a few minutes, and then his bare feet are heard padding across the hallway back into your room.

By the time he resurfaces in the living room, you’ve resigned yourself to just more Phineas and Ferb, nonchalantly watching the silly cartoon. (Except you’re anything but nonchalant, and your heartbeat rings in your ears.)

Jungkook hovers by the door, clad in a pair of shorts he’s left here before, and a t-shirt you stole from him. “Hey,” he says quietly, lingering by the doorframe. You nod back in response. “Can I watch with you?” Again, another nod.  

Slinking over to the couch, he’s rather careful as he sits down, leaving a few inches of space between the two of you. You don’t even think he can see the screen of your laptop until he murmurs, “he’s my favorite character,” when Perry the Platypus appears on the screen.

You hum. “Thought you didn’t like these kids shows?” you ask. You don’t mean it to sound as petty and backhanded as it comes out, but that’s really no one's fault but his own.

Jungkook’s breathing tightens beside you. “No,” he admits, “I don’t. Only watch them because I know you like them.” You contemplate pausing the episode and engaging in a real conversation with him, but at this point, you’re very tired from the events of the last day. Jungkook doesn’t press either, just shuffles more comfortably beside you.

You get about five minutes in, quiet chuckles shared between the two of you, before he strikes. “I’m sorry about yesterday,” he says, so hushed you almost don’t hear it. His hand is resting in the space between you, pinky brushing against yours. “About… being late. And the presents.”

You inspire slowly. “That wasn't even the problem, silly,” you brush off. From your peripheral, you see Jungkook’s slow nod. “I didn’t want any presents,” you mention, “I just wanted you.” You look away from the screen immediately after, pretending like the spot on the ceiling is actually really interesting.

The two of you fall into silence, the animated characters on your screen rapidly chattering away. “Oh,” Jungkook says after a moment.

You roll your eyes. They’re moist but you don’t want him to see. “Yeah, oh,” you parrot back softly, relaxing into the couch again. “Did you eat the food I left out?”

Jungkook shuffles beside you, the soft lull of the speakers soon being cut as he reaches over to pause Phineas and Ferb. A couple of seconds pass and then he’s leaning into you, head resting on your shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes again, placing a palm over the hand he had been teasing for the past few minutes. “I thought I knew what I was doing but I was wrong.”

His voice is so soft and sincere, it makes your chest ache. You try to burrow your face against your opposite shoulder, try to hide the stray tear that escapes out of the corner of your eye. “It’s fine,” you brush off, voice choked off and hoarse.

Jungkook leans up, pecks your cheek so tenderly it makes you go mushy. “No, it’s not fine. I acted like a know-it-all and said something way out of line,” he murmurs, raising his head to look at you. His hand feels warm over yours. It’s the touch you craved all day and yesterday, the warm feel of his body against yours. You’re embarrassed at how easily you melt into it. “You’re the best thing that has happened to me in a long time,” he tells you, holding your hand close to his chest. “I had no right to say those things to you.”

You sniffle, resting your head against his shoulder now. His heart beats loud enough for you to hear. “Was it true?” you mumble. “Do you really think of me like that?”

He shakes his head, his soft breaths fanning across your forehead. “No, never,” he answers. “I think you’re incredible. My brain was just trying to justify my dumb anger.”

You nod, even if you don’t believe it just yet. But that was a conversation for later, you suppose, sometime in the future when you aren’t on the verge of tears and threatening to crumble apart at the simplest word that leaves his mouth.

“I should have come home like you wanted, thought about my words before saying them,” he says, snuggling closer to you. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop,” you sniffle, covering your face with your free hand as he presses a kiss to the vein that runs over the back of the hand he’s holding captive. “Now it just sounds like I'm just being inconsiderate of your gifts and a crybaby.”

Jungkook kisses your temple softly, gently. “Don’t think about the gifts,” he says. “Just tell me what you wanted to do, doll.”

His voice calms you, has you like putty in his arms. “Watch movies,” you mumble, toying with a thread on your couch cushion. “Be with you.”

He hums. “Then we’ll do that,” he says, reaching for your laptop again. The screen nearly blinds you when it flickers back to life before you, Jungkook’s low breaths against your ear making it near impossible for you to process the titles on the screen. “You liked Disney+?”

Belatedly, you nod. “I like the animated movies,” you admit quietly, the anxieties of before slowly melting away, even more so when he slides his arm around you, pulling you close against his chest.

Unlike other times where he’ll critique the hell out of such childish films, Jungkook says nothing as he starts up the Zootopia movie instead, the same one you had wanted to show him before, right from the beginning. “That bunny looks like you,” you murmur when Judy Hopps first appears on the screen.

Jungkook snorts. “You say that about every cartoon bunny.”

You turn your head to glance at him over your shoulder. He meets your gaze with a small smile you return. “It’s because you’re so cute,” you say softly, lips twisting playfully when his cheeks grow scarlet.

He knocks his forehead against yours, eyes fluttering shut. “Not cute, just lucky,” he chuckles. “Lucky enough to have you.” Your heart turns over in your chest, threatening to burst out of your rib cage at his words. You try to turn in his arms. Before you can say the words that have been sitting on the tip of your tongue for months now, he’s beating you to it once again. “I love you,” he confesses in a hushed whisper, no alcoholic influence. 

Something inside of you blossoms, eyes wide as he chastely kisses you. He pulls away without you ever reacting, too caught up in surprise to kiss him back properly. He stays close, curls tickling your forehead as he leans over you. “You don’t have to say it back, I just wanted you to know. I love you,” he says again, long lashes blinking down at you. “So much. It makes me feel like a stupid teenager again, going to the mall to buy a gift for my crush.” He laughs sheepishly, reaching down to tangle your fingers together. “Is that okay?” he asks quietly, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

It mirrors the confession he’d given you that morning, those slurred words and teary eyes. It had been difficult to pinpoint the legitimacy of it before, the meaning scrambled by his hazy mind. But with him staring at you like this now, like you single-handedly plucked the stars from the sky to put them in those sparkly eyes of his, it makes something inside you ache.

Still, you choke on your own spit. “I-Is it okay for you to love me?” you sputter incredulously, realizing the oddity of the same question he’d thrown at you earlier. But now, you’re both sober and you can really tear apart that sentence. Jungkook nods a little too seriously for your liking. “Are you crazy?” He blinks in confusion, brows pulling together as you slowly but surely lose the last bits of your sanity. “You’re an idiot, Jeon Jungkook,” you huff, “a stupidly handsome, rich, walking dream, idiot who goes out with stupid girls like me.”

“Not stupid,” he murmurs, closing in on you again as he finally understands the truth behind your masked insults. He smells minty and like his favorite body wash of yours.

“No,” you deny. “You’re actually, like, insane. You have a bachelor pad, make enough money to sustain an entire litter of kittens, look and talk like every teenage girl’s dream boyfriend— but you mess it all up by dating evil, conniving hoes like me who lose their shit over Disney cartoons.” He says nothing, watching you with an amused grin as you talk over yourself, basically regurgitating his statement from yesterday except it kinda seems plausible now that you’re over it. “It’s stupid. No, you’re stupid. No— I’m stupid.”

Jungkook chuckles, kissing the corner of your mouth gently. “Done?” he says, a dimple appearing on his cheek. You could kiss it away, but you need him to know the amount of stupidity in this room was astronomically high. “You’re not stupid, baby,” he says. You level him with a look. “Well. You have your moments.”

“Moments?” you repeat, standing up in a hurry that has him flopping down beside you. Your laptop is lost somewhere on the cushions, the voices faded as they grow farther away. “I am so stupid. I called Namjoon a whore for taking you out for lunch!” you cry. “I am the stupidest person in the world.”

Jungkook cackles, standing up beside you. “Yes, yes, you’re my stupid girl,” he teases, tapping the pout on your lips playfully. “So stupid she slanders herself instead of just telling me she loves me too.” He bumps your noses together, dark eyes staring at you almost daringly after his claim.

You fold soon enough. “I love you,” you mumble, “even if I’m too stupid to say it.”

He rewards your confession with a kiss, pulling you into his arms soon after. He sighs, almost wistfully. “Whatever shall I do with my very stupid girl?”

After exactly three minutes of feeling safe and loved in his arms, he abandons the living room in favor of leading you back to your room, where he pushes you down against your mattress. You cling to him, leaving him positioned over you at an angle. His chest presses against yours, arm curled around the back of your head. “Gotta get up, baby,” he laughs.

You shake your head, caging him in your arms. “Nuh-uh,” you murmur, legs wiggling when he places a hand on your hip.

Jungkook chuckles, pressing a kiss against the side of your ear. “Your movie is still playing in the other room,” he reminds you, thumb drawing soothing circles on your hip. You don’t release him, his mindless touch only encouraging you to keep him close. “Babe?”

You say nothing, relishing in the comfort of Jungkook’s presence. His hair smells good and feels even softer against the side of your face. The cotton shirt he found is crumpled beneath your fists, dark blue pattern wrinkling. Finally coming to terms with his new home, Jungkook eventually relaxes into your hold with a sigh.

“Alright,” he hums, patting your hip as he repositions himself more comfortably. “I get it. My pretty girl must’ve missed me, huh?” You nod, soaking in every detail about him in this moment. Jungkook shifts, the hand on your hip suddenly falling over your thigh instead. “Or should I say my stupid girl?” he purrs, hand slipping between your thighs. “My stupid, little girl?”

A gasp catches in your throat when he runs his fingers over the front of your panties. Your legs kick out wildly at the sudden touch, toes curling at the hands you dreamt about all day and night. “Oh,” you pant, each brush of his fingers feeling better than the last.

“What?” he says, mouthing against the side of your neck. His tongue feels warm, but the trails of saliva he leaves have you shivering. “Too dumb to speak?” he scoffs, biting down against a particular spot on your neck. You whimper, unsure if it’s because of his hands or his mouth.

“N-No,” you try to sneer back, fingernails digging into his skin through his shirt. His hands are getting braver now, the pad of his pointer finger dancing over your engorged clit. The sheer material of your panties certainly doesn’t help, each touch feeling like it’s being magnified three times over. And if it felt this good with underwear, you can’t even begin to imagine how it’d feel without.

You don’t have to ponder for long, because soon after Jungkook is slipping his hand beneath your waistband, touching your sensitive pussy head-on. “Kook.”

He uses your momentary vulnerability to ease himself from your hold, finally recoiling enough to smother your mouth with his. You moan in surprise, thighs quivering as he gets to work circling your hardened bud sans your panties. Jungkook isn’t the least bit kind as he kisses you ruthlessly, likes he’s trying to compensate for something with his movements. When he finally pulls away it’s with an obnoxious pop and cherry red lips. He huffs, glancing down to see where he’s got his fingers pleasuring you.

Your thighs are squirming back and forth, closing around his hand every few seconds. Jungkook snorts. “Huh, look at that,” he mutters, trailing down until his fingers are gliding over your quickly sopping folds. “Stupid girl is good for something.”

Your cheeks burn. “Kook, I’m not—“

Jungkook levels you with an unimpressed glare. “Not what? Not stupid? But I could’ve sworn you just spent the last few minutes saying you were,” he drones meanly, landing one light slap against your cunt that makes your hips buck.

You bite down a whimper. “I was just…” you trail off, eyes rolling back when he teases one finger against your opening.

“Kidding?” he supplies. “Well, I wasn’t.” Your heart stutters in your chest, eyes growing wide as he finally pushes himself off of you, propping himself up with an elbow beside your head. His gaze is dark and unrecognizable. “I think you’re so fucking stupid, doll,” he sneers. “And what are you gonna do about it?”

You should have seen this moment coming, the manifestation of that shiny side of the coin finally reaching its full potential.

While Jungkook wasn’t exactly shy about his interests, he certainly wasn’t tripping over himself to tell you every new kinky thing he wanted to try. You sort of guessed he had some interest in this sort of play a few weeks ago when you watched the Barbie movie at his place. A lot of that night had branded itself into your three am wet dreams, but there was one particular moment that stood out to you. That was you, on your knees, with him condescendingly patting your head. Or just last week, you vaguely remember the term slipping through his lips as he pleasured you with The Bullet Bestie.

The thing about Jungkook was that, until last night, he would have never admitted, or so much as even thought, that he was better than you. That was fine because you would say it enough for the both of you anyway. Did you think Jungkook was amazing, an absolute diamond among these measly rocks? Absolutely. (Were you slightly biased because you were his girlfriend? Skip.) However, you also had this insane evil villain complex that made you want to brag about everything you possibly could, especially if that meant bragging about your boyfriend.

Realistically speaking, he was better than you, that much you could look past yesterday’s anger to admit, and not even in a stuck-up, conceited way; he had a really good job, an architecturally amazing house, and a hot girlfriend. Meanwhile, you had a mediocre job, an okay apartment, and an insanely sexy Calvin Klein boyfriend, half of which he had pointed out yesterday. Regardless of how powerful that third factor was, he still outnumbered you three to one.

Sue you, Jungkook was amazing. Anyone could see that! Except, maybe, himself.

And if the only time Jungkook would openly brag about his greatness or establish how much better than you he was, was in a post-fight, sex-induced setting, then you were more than happy to be his punching bag. So long as it was on your terms, and not as a result of his weirdly bottled up feelings.

(Yeah, you would have a long talk about that tomorrow.)

But for now, you pout up at him, clamping your thighs shut purposefully. “You’re stupid too,” you defend, “stupid and mean.”

Something in his expression changes. Suddenly, he’s moving at superhuman speed as he snatches his hand out from where you had previously trapped him between your legs, yanking you up by the front of your shirt. “Mean?” he mocks. “Isn’t that what you always wanted?” You shiver, fingers wrapping around the wrist that holds your sweater. “Wanted me to be mean and push you around like a little rag doll?”

Jungkook looks at you for another two seconds, before he’s slowly pulling away from you, leaning back on his knees. His tongue is pressing against the inside of his cheek, jaw tightening from the movement. “Baby,” he says so quietly it instills a prickle of fear in you, tainted with delicious excitement.

“Yeah?” you whisper, sitting up tentatively as you watch him, He was a bit frightening, like a wild animal about to devour you whole.

Jungkook rolls his neck, the joints in his spine cracking as he begins tugging off his shirt. You salivate at the sight, too focused on the sinewy muscles of his body to catch the dark gaze he levels your way. He throws it off to the side, his sleeve of tattoos that wraps around his bicep and begins to crawl down his chest wonderfully unobstructed now. “Eyes up here,” he says and you quickly meet his gaze. He leans forward, muscled arms coming to cage you against the headboard. “Stupid little sluts don’t have the room to make such comments,” he rasps out, unamused expression adorning his normally soft features. “Don’t you think so?”

“I-I don’t know,” you stammer, leaning away as he comes closer and closer, eventually just turning your head to the side to avoid that emotionless look. It’s the wrong move, and Jungkook lets you know as much by forcefully digging his fingers into your cheeks and turning your face back around to meet his gaze.

A hand grabs beneath your knee, tugging harshly until you’re flopping down onto your back with a squeal. You settle with his knee pressed hotly against your core. Jungkook stays towering over you. “Dumb little girls who make me watch cartoons,” he spits, tracing a hand over your chest, molding your breasts beneath his hands roughly enough to make you gasp. “And watch little animal movies on Disney+. Aren’t they just so stupid?”

“So stupid,” you concede, subtly shifting your hips for some desperately needed friction. Jungkook snorts, finally granting you your wish with one rough slide of his thigh against your core.

“I agree,” he says, and surprises you with a hand around your throat as he leans in to properly grind his thigh into you. “All they’re good for is being dumb little sluts with good pussy,” he murmurs darkly, thumb pressing into the side of your neck forcefully. “Sometimes, they don’t even do anything,” Jungkook continues, his other hand on your hip hauling you higher up his thigh. You mewl, soaked panties rubbing roughly against your folds. You miss the soft swirl of his thumb, the gentle prod of his fingers. Even so, you can’t deny this change in Jungkook is doing something to you, riling up a part of you that you hadn’t known existed. Maybe it’s the horniness from yesterday that was left unfulfilled, the one year anniversary sex that was put on pause. “Just lay there and take it, too fucked out and dumb to say anything.”

His fingers loosen for the briefest of seconds and you gasp for breath. “That’s terrible,” you whimper, rolling your hips up into his thigh, so close to his swollen cock.

Jungkook chuckles without an ounce of humor, pressing your foreheads together as he helps grind you to completion. “Isn’t it? I think that stupid little girl is cute though.”

“I’m sorry,” you blurt, vision spotting as he tightens his hand back around your throat. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you moan, stomach tight from all the stimulation.

Jungkook hums, slowing you down with a tight grip on your waist. “Hm, what are you sorry for?” he croons, pink lips pulling into an evil smile. “You said you weren’t that stupid girl, __.”

You shake your head, trying to roll your hips up again but he’s holding you too tightly now, rendering you immobile beneath him. “I am,” you choke out shamefully, grabbing at the hand on your hip in a feeble attempt to remove it. “I am a stupid little girl.”

Jungkook smirks, leaning down to slot his mouth over yours. “That’s right,” he murmurs, “nothing but a dumb little slut.”

You shiver, opening your mouth when he slides his tongue against your bottom lip. He’s not the slightest bit nice, and more messy than usual. He pulls away with a bite to your lower lip, meeting your trembling gaze with that same unrecognizable glint in his eyes. “Come on, dummy, keep up,” he snarks before devouring you again. You try to, you really do, but he’s moving like an animal today, despite his slow and drunken movements from that morning. So you end up with his saliva dripping down your throat, clinging to the corners of your lips as he begins slowly grinding you against his thigh again. He flashes you a wicked smile, pearly teeth on display for you as he glances down at your messy appearance.

“Are you gonna touch me?” you ask, lower lip trembling at the thought after your desperate rutting. Jungkook purses his lips together in thought.

“Mmm,” he hums. “Don’t know yet.”

You whine. “Jungkook, please,” you whimper, wrapping your legs around his waist. “I need you.”

Jungkook chuckles, running his hand up your waist and taking your shirt with him. He slips his fingers beneath your bra, pushing the wire over your chest as he mouths at your neck. “Cute,” he says. “Can’t do it yourself?”

You tremble, chest arching into him as he rolls your nipple between his fingers. “I-I can,” you gasp. “Just feels better with you.”

Jungkook follows your statement with a nip against your skin, tongue soothing over it right after. “Why? Because I do everything better than you? Even make you cum better than you?”

Your cheeks heat up at his blatant ego rearing its head, hands carding through the hair at the nape of his neck. You say nothing, and that only eggs Jungkook on. “Come onnn,” he teases, finally, finally rolling his hips down onto your core. You squeak, head falling back against the pillows as you’re granted the one thing you’d been chasing. “Say it.”

“Say what?” you ask, voice wobbly as he continues to slowly rut against you, the front of his shorts pressing against the soaked crotch area of your panties. “Oh, oh, Jungkook,” you whine.

Suddenly he bites down harshly, teeth digging painfully into your skin. You yelp in surprise, pussy throbbing at the pain that shoots throughout your body. Jungkook pulls away and doesn’t bother soothing over it as he leans up to capture your jaw this time. “Say you’re a stupid little slut who can’t do anything without me,” he purrs, kisses too soft for the words he says.

Your mind blanks, torn between the humiliating phrase he wants you to say and properly checking him in his place. In the end, it’s with a twisted need to please him that you’re repeating the words back to him. “I-I’m a stupid slut,” you whimper, fingers digging into his shoulder blades as he continues pushing you right along the edge. The rope pulled tightly in your core is slowly being pulled apart, threads hanging on for dear life. “Can’t... can't do anything without...”

“Without who?” he asks, reaching down and untying the front of his shorts. “Can’t do anything without who, baby?”

“Without you, without you,” you cry, bucking your hips up against his, the combined movements of both your bodies making you shake like a leaf. “Ah, K-Kook,” you wail, hips stuttering as your orgasm finally swallows you up. Your panties quickly grow wet and icky from your own arousal that pools between your thighs. Jungkook lets you writhe beneath him as you chase your high, mouth sucking a pretty blossom against your jaw.

You know better than to expect the night to end here, especially after seeing the glint that had been in his eyes as he watched you unravel.

He leans close, let’s his nose brush against yours as you catch your breath. “So perfect for me,” he groans, slotting his lips against yours. You can barely keep up with him, languidly going along with his hot tongue. “Perfect, perfect girl,” he murmurs, a stark change from the less than friendly adjectives he used just moments before. “Tell me you love me?” he says softly.

You nod, mind fuzzy as you wrap your arms around his neck. “Love you,” you exhale, letting your fingers knot in his hair. Your proclamation does something to him, makes him grind the front of his cotton shorts hard against you. For someone that was often rough and brutal with you in bed, he sure was sensitive to the mushiest of things.

“Don’t deserve you,” he huffs, hot breath fanning across your skin. He switches gears fairly quickly. “Tell me you hate me,” he begs hoarsely, rutting against your soiled panties. “Tell me I’m a piece of shit and you could do better without me,” he pleads, voice too airy to be another one of his usual sex-induced thoughts.

You shake your head, pressing a kiss to his cheek as he rolls his hips. “It’s not true,” you whisper, “I love you more than you’ll ever understand.”

Jungkook groans, suddenly winding back and tearing your ruined panties down your legs. You gasp in surprise, letting him haul you about in his blind, self-inflicted rage. “Stupid, stupid,” he huffs, though at this point you can’t tell who it’s directed at. With your underwear out of the way, he wastes no time plunging his fingers back into your cunt, bypassing the tight ring of muscle around it without any of his usual care. “You should hate me,” he snarls, lips pressed against your ear.

You moan, back arching at the sudden pleasure that blossoms between your thighs. “I-I don’t,” you gasp, toes curling.

Jungkook groans, the sound traveling down your spine and straight into your pussy. “Stupid girl,” he huffs, slipping an arm around you to pull you so close until you can’t breathe, chests lined up together. His skin is warm to the touch, scorching almost. “Fuck,” he groans, curling his fingers inside of you. You whimper and moan, incapable of staying still beneath him as he tortures you with a thumb to your clit. “Tell me you hate me,” he seethes again.

Despite the fog that’s settled over your mind, you still manage a resolute shake of your head. “N-no,” you cry, digging your nails into his back. They run dark red lines over his skin, making him hiss at the sting.

Whatever punishment he’s trying to put himself through is falling through with your refusal to admit such a thing. It aggravates him even more, your adamant stance on loving him so, and he’s retracting his fingers before you can cum again. “Please,” he chokes, face tucked into your neck. He’s sloppy with his movements; as he pulls his shorts down and kicks them away, he nearly suffocates you with his weight. “I don’t deserve you, ___, please.”

“I love you,” you whimper for lack of explanation. Jungkook leans back, that same madman gaze in his glossy eyes. He’s looking at you in disbelief almost, pouty lips puckered and swollen. Your hands slip from around him, falling on either side of your head.

Like a cobra he strikes, collecting your wrists in one hand he pins above your head. The sudden movement has him leaning in close, lips brushing over yours. His lashes are coated in a wetness he refuses to acknowledge, looking at you like you drive him insane. “If you ever try to leave me,” he whispers, jerky breath fanning over your skin, “I’ll lose my mind.”

He loves you so much it aches.

“I won’t,” you whimper, feeling your own eyes well up with an emotion that consumes every inch of your being. “I’ll never leave you, you stupid, stupid boy.”

A faint smile crosses his features at your words, lips quirking to the side. You relish in it for all of two seconds before he’s ramming his cock into you, your sensitive walls spawning around him. You sob loudly, eyes rolling back into your head. Your legs instinctively hook themselves around his waist, digging into the base of his spine as he rolls his hips into you.

You feel full and complete like he belongs there in this moment and every moment after this. It makes your heart constrict painfully. Jungkook’s soft groans follow your more unraveled noises, the vulgar slapping of skin on skin the underlying melody to it all. “Ffffuck,” he spits, greedily swallowing your moans up. You whine, arms bucking in an effort to hold him close. But he’s determined in his act of restraining you, long fingers tightening around your wrists until they hurt. “I warned you, didn’t I?” he huffs, snapping his hips into you.

Your walls clench around his hard cock, the drag as he exits sending shivers throughout your body. Jungkook’s body towers over you, glistening in sweat as he nails you into your mattress. “Remember what I said?” he asks, voice but a shuddery exhale. You shake your head numbly, overwhelmed by the rough drag across your walls. “All those months ago, when you first came over,” he adds. The hand on your hip abandons its post to cup you beneath the jaw, palm pressing sinfully against your throat enough to block the tiniest of airflow. “I’ll fuck you and keep you forever,” he murmurs, voice deeper than the pits of hell. He licks a fat stripe over your cheek like you’re nothing but a sweet for him to devour. “Do you remember that, pretty girl?”

You nod jerkily, hips arching up into him when he thrusts into you again. It’s a memory that replays in your mind every so often, your first night with the man you had planned to humiliate over a mere misunderstanding, now your boyfriend of one year. “Want that,” you gasp, tears blurring your vision when he begins picking up the pace. “Wanna be y-your pretty girl forever.”

Jungkook groans, kissing the corner of your mouth. His thighs are some magnificent beings, keeping his pace consistent even as he loses himself in his overwhelming need to kiss you. “Always,” he manages, soft lips pressed against yours. “I won’t ever let you leave.”

A shriek tears itself from your lips as he picks up that harsh piston, releasing your jaw to hold both wrists above your head. It makes his curls dangle in front of his eyes, covering that beautiful dark gaze. It makes his thin little necklace swing back and forth too, though it’s too small to actually touch your face. The rhythmic swing has you hypnotized, just like everything else about Jungkook.

With the length of his hair, you’re left staring at his lips, pulled taut between his pearly white teeth. The word from before sits heavy in your chest, begs to drip from the tip of your tongue. But he’s moving too fast and too hard, scrambling your thoughts until all you can think about is the cock plunging into your heat. His name falls from your mouth like mindless blubber instead, arms thrashing as your second orgasm swallows you up. It sends you crashing, body spasming as the sheer euphoria waves over you slowly and then all at once.

“Perfect,” he grunts, leaning down to slot his mouth against yours, “my perfect girl.” Your cum makes the sound of his hips erotic, the loud squelching following your panting. Still sensitive from your high, your body unconsciously tightens around him, keeps his cock from fully leaving. It brings a soft whine out of Jungkook, one he tries to muffle against the side of your face.

“Inside,” you whimper, even though your body feels like jelly beneath him. “Cum inside, Kook, please,” you beg.

It only takes a few more thrusts into your leaking hole for him to finally reach paradise, hips stuttering when that first shot of pleasure hits him. “Fuck, fuck,” he growls, wildly snapping his hips into your achy cunt. You moan, feeling just about brainless at the overstimulation. His cum leaves you full, almost makes your belly bulge from it. When he’s done he doesn’t bother pulling away, simply slumping into your limp form. His cock, though quickly softening, serves as a plug for the cum threatening to spill out of you.

There’s a muted noise coming from the other room, the faint sound of the mail slipping through your letterbox, the quiet chattering of the street outside. And of course, the loud blaring of your laptop playing the Phineas and Ferb theme song. Jungkook registers it at about the same time as you, a soft chuckle leaving his lips.

He pushes off of you soon after, leaning on his palms over you. He’s got that molten look on his eyes, the heat of a thousand suns burning behind those irises as he looks at you. Like he can’t get enough, even though he’s just about taken everything there is to take. “Love you,” he murmurs quietly.

A drop of sweat rolls over his forehead, clinging to the end of his eyebrow. You reach up and brush it away, let your hand trail down his face to cup his cheek. Immediately he leans into the touch, eyes falling half shut. “Love you more,” you respond.

“Impossible,” he scoffs.

Soon after you’re both stumbling out of bed, clothes haphazardly shrugged back on as you drift through the living room. There’s a thin, hot pink package sitting at the door, just having slipped through the letterbox; the stark Sexuality Unleashed logo is printed on the visible side, so you have to wonder what Doyeon could have possibly ordered this time that could be so thin. The laptop is awkwardly sandwiched next to a throw pillow, barely open a crack. Jungkook retrieves it, sets it on his lap as you scamper over to the couch.

“More Phineas and Ferb?” he asks quietly. He hates it, you know he does. And still, he wants to watch it with you.

You nod. “Please.”

He isn’t so concerned with the plot as you, clicking some random episode to start. You snuggle into his side, quietly singing along to the opening. After a moment, Jungkook speaks again. “Phineas and Flirt?” he offers cheekily.

You roll your eyes. “That might’ve been your worst one yet,” you sigh, trying to drown out his indignant huff by focusing on the screen.

“I don’t exactly see you coming up with these,” he points out, obviously feeling wronged.

Without missing a beat you say, “Disney+ and bust.”

epilogue

commercial break one ; the resolution

Copyright © 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[myriadof-fandoms]

Please give us the essay 🥺

damn thank you for indulging me 👉👈 i'd love nothing more so:

let's start this of with probably my fav thing about stranger things: subtext. so much of this show, of these characters is subtext. especially when it comes to billy. there is not a lot actually explicitly stated in the show about his character. a lot that is treated as a fact is made up by the fandom by what really is more subtext of the scenes we see with him. particularly from season 2.

apropos season 2 billy. definitely not a great brother figure i think we can all agree. a reckless 17-year old with a lot of anger issues. i have a whole essay about the different possible characterisations of him too, someone stop me. his interactions with max? not great. absolutely not great. i personally think calling it abusive goes a bit far but that's just me. i also think there is a lot to be said for his actions maybe being screwed up ways of showing affection but that again is another essay in itself.

however as it is in season 2 we have: no kind words between max and billy, no real emotion unless it's anger or fear or frustration, max specifically talking with obvious disdain about him.

what do we have in season 3? none of the above.

i mean even s2 ends with billy looking at max in something that looks like contemplation, there's no disdain, and i would venture to say even affection in his look but obviously that's subjective. what isn't subjective is that despite max taking him out before, the season doesn't end violently between them. it ends just with them looking at each other.

now in s3? things are vastly different.

when max talks about billy in s3 it's in a way that just screams annoyed little sister. "wrong is kind of his default" said while smiling. to her friend. no reason to be pretending. and while they are in his room. listen my good dudes idk but that's not really what you'd do if you were being abused by someone.

especially bc in s2 max was clearly scared of billy and what he'd do. she was visibly scared when he held her arm in the car, she made lucas stay behind in the arcade, she turned the steering wheel, "he'll kill me, he'll kill us". if she'd been feeling that fear in s3 still she probably would not have gone as far as to enter his room. she was actively trying not to aggravate him before and in s3 it doesn't seem at all like she fears any consequences from him.

another important point: she is obviously upset by the idea of billy being flayed. she says so multiple times. she denies the chance of it. not particularly how you'd expect someone to react if they were feeling indifferent or hateful towards someone?

she also offers him up to be spied on by el in the first place. again why'd she do that if she were feeling as upset by him as she was in the previous season? also the only thing she warns eleven of is billy potentially being with a girl. like that's the worst she could imagine him doing.

max is also not particularly surprised by how nice billy acts when they find him with the holloways. when he is being perfectly polite, introduces her as his sister, and is nice to her. sure she looks a bit confused in the moment but ultimately summarises the evening to mean he's normal.

the sauna scene. honestly. the main point. she at first doesn't even want to do it. my baby is deep in denial. "i hope it's not you." and then she is visibly upset when they do put him in the sauna. before he's activated billy is begging her to believe him. and listen my dudes if he was feeling spiteful or disdainful towards her? he probably wouldn't be doing that. "please believe me max" he trusts her. when she asks him to explain further, he does. she wants to help him. there's enough affection between them that seeing him completely breaking down makes max cry.

moving onto my least favourite scene: his death. max' shock upon seeing him dying and begging for him to stay alive. mh. yeah idk. her guilt in s4 as well (i'm not gonna go into what else went on in s4 bc i'm not yet done with my rewatch) oh also just that she touches him without hesitance when he's on the floor. and sure he's clearly wounded but there is no hesitance on her side to get in his space at all. same as before when she was trying to get through to him when he was coming towards her, eleven and mike. she stands there and talks to him right until he is in her space and doesn't flinch away from him. yes abuse or hate are different and don't show for everyone the same way but also. this is very atypical behaviour, at multiple times just saying.

then there is the obvious grief. (granted i think grief itself doesn't necessarily mean that the person who's gone wasn't abusive or just shitty, simply bc it's not as black and white as people would like to make it out to be.) and then i mean obviously people grieve differently but also i personally think the fact that she is shown in his room does kind of point towards a better relationship too, it's a clear admittance at least to herself that she is missing him to a degree. she is seeking out his presence in a way? from what i know about grieving someone you didn't particularly want around the part of missing them is hard to accept. but again not my main point and also not a fact just yk my personal thoughts.

lastly i could also bring up my favourite thing ever: in s2 max knows how to drive the camaro and someone has to have taught her. it was billy and you can't change my mind. so even before s2 maybe there was a better relationship? .. there could be other clues for that too but yeah no i think i've made my point:

billy hargrove and max mayfield had an at least decent relationship by s3, thank you for your time. @ the duffers i'll meet you about this in a parking lot somewhere and i'll bring my k*ll nancy instead of steve presentation.

[hezuart]

That anaversary aizen looks absolutely fabulous, he looks like a figure skater xd.

I heard along time ago the last arc of the anime was being animated finally bc they pulled a 90s sailor moon were the last season was not either animated or dubbed untill decades later.

I recall near the end of the current 366 episodes there was an episode were the creapy demon ppl woke up in hell and we're all bitter, and there was the other guy who was like, iM cOmEiNg FoR u IChIgO, but then is never mentioned again after and I'm like,why? Why is lt there just plopted randomly into a different arc that seams unrelated.

And locking aizen up underground seems ok, but It deff won't hold, and he will. Escape, and he will kill, you either need that one spell from star, dubbed, the darkest spell of moon the undaunted, a powerfull dark spell that killed immortal beings, that came from best character, eclipsa, the queen of darkness.

We need that.

Or stick him I'm crystal like eclipsa was in star. Is there no one who could trap him in ice or crystal for all eternity.

How about throw him into the centre of a volcano trapped and caged , forverr being killed by heat?

I assume there's space travel, send I'm into a black whole, were a black whole don't fuckin care if your immortal or fat, you will die

:3

Yes, I love anniversary Aizen. His original octopus-butterfly hollow design was ugly so I'm glad he's back to being the fashion icon he is.

Locking Aizen up underground once is one thing, doing it twice after saying he got more powerful by just sitting there, and he escaped to battle the Quincy Soul King God... is another. I think he should have escaped at the end of the Quincy arc. That is the only feasibility.

I heard the anime is coming back for the Quincy arc as well, but because of COVID its probably going to be delayed. (I'm not gonna watch it until the Rain section of the arc then I'm dipping out. I'm only here for Zangetsu)

and funny that you mention that hell scene in the manga :)

-> spoilers for the new BLEACH 73 page anniversary chapter / thoughts/critique on it

So hey you had a premonition! Syazel .... returned? And his hole is outside of his body??? for some reason???

(I didn't understand the explanation or why / how that happens and what that means for the hollow)

And my friend and I were laughing because out of ALL the things. Kubo could do in this anniversary. He gave Syazel his dick back after going to hell. That is iconic. (that's where his hole was located, and now that its not on his body ... well...) This is the funniest thing Kubo has EVER pulled. Kudos to you, sir.

The entire internet is freaking out over Ukitake being in hell. Honestly Kubo has done far worse, and we've established that Soul Society is a corrupt system that hasn't changed, so I'm not surprised he would pull something like this.

At the same time, Kubo 1. cheated his audience. 2. continues to prove me right that he cannot bring himself to kill his characters

1. Hollows who have commit murder in their human life are sent to hell. Syazel and Aaorniero are two of these hollows, and yet, when they are killed, there is NO gates of hell scene. We see them there later in the hell chapter (which was more of a promotion for the fourth movie and I didn't believe it would hold any merit)

But the same goes for Ukitake. We never see the gates of hell take him. What, was hell late? Did hell's gates get lost like an uber before picking him up? It's bull. Withholding such vital information from your audience, not showing the gates of hell when they should pick up this soul IMMEDIATELY is ... I mean its a lie. Kubo lied to his audience.

2. Now we are told powerful shinigami are sent to hell when they die. First of all that sounds like a security threat. Wouldn't shinigami want revenge for that? Or attempt to escape? Why would they still hold loyalty after being sent to a prison of eternal suffering?

Also "Yhwach and Aizen" were the only ones keeping Hell's gates closed is way too convenient and doesn't really make any sense. I feel like Aizen should have deliberately gone to hell to retrieve powerful shinigami / hollows for his army instead of keeping it /closed/.

This is definitely a Kubo-doesn't-know-what-he's-doing-and-is -making- stuff-up-as-he-goes, but it might have a pinch of merit because of previous plot lines.... but either way, there's some big plot holes here, but again, its Kubo, so I expected nothing less.

Again, he can't kill off his characters. He introduced zombification, he introduced immortality through the hougyoku, he has Orihime and Hachigen's reversal / rejection abilities. He brought back Luppi, friggen.... a character who's entire upper half of his body was incinerated. Like.... come on. No. He's dead, you can't bring him back like that. That's a cop out and just weird. You're taking away consequences and grief.

(Also Yamamoto and Unohana deserve to be in hell far over Ukitake, they've done some fcked up stuff in their pasts unlike him)

Also Kubo's favorite character is Mayuri, which.... you're allowed to have a favorite problematic character. But Keeping said character alive and bared from the consequences of abusing his daughter, murdering innocents, and experimenting on your own squad members? Nah. Nope. Kill him, Kubo. Kill this dude.

(his weird attachment to Mayuri is probably why he keeps bringing Syazel back, since Syazel is Mayuri 2.0, but Syazel is the bad guy who does face consequences for his actions while Mayuri is not)

~

Also, I'm certain Kazui and Orihime are going to be THRILLED that their precious husband/dad is going to hell when he dies :)

(I just... Rukia teased Ichigo about leaving Orihime at home. She teased him about having a house wife who he leaves all the chores to. Orihime had two panels. She checks on her son who promised he would be at home and sleep. Kazui fcking breaks his promise like it never mattered to him and JUMPS out the window after pretending to sleep in front of his mother. ... An 8 year old... alone... in the middle of the night.)

Orihime is abandoned. She is not invited to SS, she is not informed of what is going on, her son leaves her.... I...

Orihime is a side character. She doesn't matter anymore. She hasn't mattered for a long, long time.

A part of me is glad she had little screen time, since she tends to waste it, but another part of me is embroiled with rage.

I've even see people try to defend this. "Orihime and Ichigo can't be together ALL the time, that's an unhealthy relationship!" and I'm like guys... that's not the point. The point is Orihime is not part of Ichigo's other life. Any shinigami stuff from now on is none of her business. She's going to stay at home while Kazui and Ichigo go off and save the world. Ichigo is going to be fighting by Rukia and Renji while Orihime watches from the sidelines, or worse, doesn't even know what is going on with her husband and son. Orihime is going to be uninformed and abandoned, because she has not proven she is capable of fighting by their sides(go on, @ me. I will fight this. She's a failure.), and also because she prefers a human life over a dead one. Which is ironic, because she married a dead man. Ichigo is a shinigami, and he will be one forever. god forbid she ever meets his Zanpaktou. She would tremble in fear at the monsters her husband harbors in his soul, especially when she realizes they don't care about her and would rather see her dead. (Zangetsu would absolutely kill Orihime. Not sure about Kazui, but Orihime has not accepted Zangetsu, she does not like either of them, and the feeling is assuredly mutual.) frick now I want to make a comic about this

Also still frustrated over Zangetsu's shikai / bankai regression. Kubo once again lied to his audience. Ichigo has no bankai. How ridiculous is that? The main character of BLEACH doesn't have a bankai. Insulting.

(RIP to Chad. He doesn't exist anymore. He's just gone. No mention, no cameo. Gone.)

Kazui is a demon child. That character from the novels? Hikone? They're the same character. Literally same personality, same power level. Its worse because Kazui is a liar. He constantly goes behind his parents' backs. He can summon creepy fish and creepy eyeballs and open portals like is ANYONE aware of this? How has SS not kidnapped Ichigo's son and experimented on him / locked away his powers yet? All substitute shinigami require a reiatsu controlling / spy badge to keep them in line. Where is Kazui's? Or is he just a weird fullbringer?

I was worried Kubo was gonna try and pull a knock off Boruto but luckily he kept the focus on Ichigo and the others. But that being said, Ichika and Kazui are now just... sort of there? Kazui was kinda just.... having his own adventure that doesn't matter to the plot at hand, and Ichika had some nice characterization at first but she just hid behind her dad the whole time.

I have a feeling Kazui is gonna step in at the last minute or do some major behind the scenes thing that indirectly interferes with the main plot so no one will realize how powerful and dangerous he actually is. Its sad because Ichika is the superior character in personality and likability, but she clearly is not going to have a bigger part in this.

Ichigo having a normal life after everything still feels extremely boring and uncomfortable to me. Everyone's like 'I'm still bLEACH!" but.... BLEACH just... doesn't feel like BLEACH anymore. It hasn't for a while now.

~~~

There's two new shinigami characters. Didn't care for the girl, but the Sign Language kid who talks to animals is adorable ... however... he just reminds me of Chad, and I just... it hurts knowing Chad has essentially been deleted. Chad and Orihime are officially benched. They have chosen the human world, and Orihime has given Ichigo his spawn so she has no more use/purpose to him anymore... ////sigh

~~~

Also. This is claimed to be a new "arc". So is the BLEACH manga coming back? What is happening. I thought Kubo was tired and didn't want to do BLEACH anymore. I thought Shounen Jump cut him off. People made so many excuses for Kubo and why the past two arcs have been so badly written the past 6 years and now almost everything they've attempted to defend him with has been revoked.

BLEACH is going to continue to screw up its plot lines and characters, so Its probably best for it to stay dead but I've seen a lot of Kubo stans drooling over this content, they're desperate for BLEACH's return, but its already given out all its possible revelations. There's really nothing else to top here. It's just going to make things up as it goes along ,and I'm not really here for half-assed writing like that, especially since the damage of rushing the previous manga has already been done. Kubo and Shounen Jump are riding off a money nostalgia. None of this was planned.

Honestly though.... overall feeling of this chapter, not as bad as it could have been.

Syazel stole the spotlight, and he's my friend's favorite character, so that's all that really matters.

[ipatrichor]

are there... are there more details about Revivebur teaming up with Grian and being a fanboy like you mentioned on the ask blog because I'm gonna cry that is so precious to me

not currently, but i can come up with some if you'd like!! ^^

- when he gets the team lists, he's super excited!! he gets to team with both techno and lord grian dreamslayer??? just imagine, if he'd stayed dead he would never have gotten to experience this. he's really happy!!

- like irl, he practices not swearing! since ranboo also doesn't swear, he asks for tips and listens very diligently as ranboo comes up with bullshit stuff on the spot because he's not avoiding swearing per say, he just... doesn't. he wants to help his new friend, tho, so he does his best to give suggestions!

- so wilbur practices by stubbing his toe and not swearing! tommy finds him doing this and is concerned, until he explains what's happening and tommy also gets excited. he offers to help wilbur practice by kicking him in the shins, and laughs at him when he agrees (tommy still does it, though he doesn't kick nearly as hard as he's capable of). mostly, it's just the two of them joking around while tommy tries to trick him into swearing

- he does get embarrassed abt forgetting the outfit :' he got too excited about the whole thing and it just completely slipped his mind, but he's glad that he wasn't the only one and that the others only jokingly tease him about it and aren't actually upset

- wilbur is pretty nervous about the whole thing, but grian and jimmy's easygoing attitudes paired with techno's familiar casual humor helps him relax a lot!

- buildmart is a high point for him, being a floater plays to his strengths as well as scratching the persistent itch in his brain to be useful :' it makes him really happy when grian compliments the team's communication afterwards, bc he also feels like they did a really good job and the confirmation from someone whose opinion he respects is rlly nice :D

- he does fall back into the role he used to have in previous tournaments of cheering the team up and keeping spirits high. it takes a bit to readjust to it, but thankfully he has high energy that day and his positive attitude & silly bits like replacing swearing with scatting keep the team's energy up as well

- his personal score being eighth is absolutely thrilling, esp when techno comes over to celebrate w him! he gets even more excited bc of it, and ends up expending more energy than he means to (which is fine in the moment! but becomes a slight problem later)

- the gong is great!! it's very nice actually, and helps him level out his energy levels a bit. unfortunately this man is zero or one hundred after Certain Things That Happened, so the gong lowering his energy actually kinda causes his crash sooner than it would have happened otherwise

- so u know how in the actual event, cc!wilbur's fire alarm went off? so i've decided the in-universe equivalent of that is he got too worked up by the energy/excitement of the event and everything and ends up having a bit of a breakdown in the middle of parkour tag. he ends up sitting out for a little bit to regain his composure (which his team is very understanding of!! mental health is a complicated thing, and none of them are exactly strangers to panic attacks) and phil subs in for him for a bit while he calms down

- anyway things are a bit better after that ^^ he's a lot calmer, and kinda embarrassed about what happened but they're not letting him be apologetic bc dude this kind of thing happens sometimes, it's fine

- also, grian being a bit tough on himself helps humanize him in a way bc wilbur gets it like 'oh same' so they're both supportive of each other and it's a nice dynamic, they sort of start to bond a little

- they're all disappointed abt not making it to dodgebolt, and wilbur is blaming himself bc he had a breakdown in the middle of parkour tag and played poorly for a bit there (by which i'm referencing when he was afk in the actual event). they all cheer each other up pretty quickly tho, and for once it's hard to hold onto the bad when the rest of his teammates are actively focusing on the good parts of the day and engaging with him in discussion about those good parts

- while dodgebolt is happening, grian actually takes him aside for a bit and, without prying, offers advice and a few breathing exercises that could help in a similar situation in the future. he also gives him his com number, and tells him that if he has any other questions abt that stuff or he just needs someone to talk to then he's welcome to call (with a joke about like 'as long as you keep it pg' or something)

- after the event, he goes up to grian and asks him for a favor. when he explains what and why, grian smiles and agrees. getting back, wilbur goes to see tommy and presents him with an autograph signed by lord grian dreamslayer. tommy hadn't asked wilbur to bring him one, but he didn't have to- wilbur knew he looks up to the guy bc of his dreamslayer title, and he knew getting an autograph would make him happy so he did it

- idk, wilbur just has a good day and a lot of fun at a friendly tournament, and makes some friends bc he deserves happiness and good things :}

[skimblyshanks]

Updated ramble abt my hcs for Deut-Munk-Alonzo as a family unit

Idk I just really like to picture Old D as like. A dude who's got a lot of love in his heart but is bad at giving it to his immediate family. So like. Great tribe grandpa; great guy to ask for advice or to bend an ear; horrible, awful job at raising Munk and Alonzo.

And like with my own niche headcanons a big part of it is his grief over Victor. Who knows how many litters of kittens he's sired? Not him. He'll never meet most of them; if he has he doesn't know it. There have been a small handful that he got to have any knowledge of or hand in their raising and the one he saw to adulthood died. Was killed. And he wasn't there. And now there's not only a little kitten bit an even littler one?

Like. I think ultimately he's neglectful of them, but in different ways. With my hcs Alonzo never really saw a father in Deut bc he showed up as a baby and Deut had already decided to distance himself beyond what was absolutely necessary. He wasn't going to get attached only to fail again. Meanwhile, Deut had already started building a relationship with Munk. @whitmerule put it in a way that I liked a few days back, while discussing some stuff related to munk growing up following Victor's death, and it was that "Deut is not, in fact, very in touch with munk's inner life." And that was the puzzle piece I've been missing.

Bc Munk loves Deut. Has him on a pedestal. And Deut very clearly loves Munk; trusts him; relies on him; is frequently physically affectionate. And none of those necessarily mean shit about how well they really communicate with each other. Deut was a pretty good dad for Munk's formative time (I'd say years but they're cats. Then again I already used turns of phrase involving hands. So I mean) but at that point there hadn't really been anything big or hard in his little kittie life. Then he watches his brother get killed and brings home a baby and has to beg Deut to let him keep said baby.

And a big thing I myself have mentioned is that Munk "self-parentified" but that's not at all fair to him when the parent of the house was clearly not going to be a parent to a baby who needed a parent. So he started making himself a caregiver by like the equivalent to 10 years old, and Deut just. let him. Brought up having someone else watch him now and then, maybe a comment abt how much Munk has matured/how much Munk is shouldering, but no actual alleviation and taking of the reigns.

But to Munk that was fine bc dad was still doing the same things dad always did! There were cuddles and lullabies for Munk when he wasn't with Alonzo. There were stories and talks that, although shallow and never getting to what it was Munk wanted to work through, did leave him feeling reassured in his dad's faith in him and his ability to do all these things that he was undertaking. So he kept undertaking them, and adding more to the plate.

I've said before that I don't think Munk is the next leader. I've implied before but idk if I ever outright said that Munk didn't even want to be a Protector; he wanted to be a Storyteller, or an Actor; he wanted like Gus. And obviously he can do both, like Skimble can be another Protector while primarily being the Train cat, but that's just it. For Munk, Protector is his primary duty and while it fulfills his emotional need to be a protective figure, it's also just. Not what he wanted to do with his life. But it's a hole that was left by Victor's death, and someone had to fill it. And dad was so proud when he announced that he was interested in becoming a Protector; let everyone know he had such a brave son, such a strong son. And besides, if he can protect the whole tribe then he can clearly protect Alonzo.

And for Alonzo, I really like to look at his usual portrayal with more of an emphasis on the “Bravado” and “Uncertain” aspects of his character. Not that the vanity isn’t there, but that I tend to see it more as a side effect of maintaining his bravado. Anyway. I tend to assume any relationship he has with Deuteronomy is minimal and more on the level of neighbors than family. Deut wasn’t the one who raised him. That was Munk and that was Jelly and sometimes it was Jenny and Skimble, too. He doesn’t particularly resent Deut, mainly because he just. doesn’t have any personal feelings about him. Munk adores him, and Munk isn’t wrong about things, so he gives Deut deference, but it’s not self-motivated like it is for Munk.

Since I like focusing on the Bravado and Uncertain aspects of Alonzos, I tend to see a public facing Alonzo and a private Alonzo. Public-facing Alonzo is suave, seductive, and coolly disengaged most of the time, and he learned this persona on his own and with the help of a select few friends. Private Alonzo is a kid raised by another kid, who realized the strain being put on Munk quickly once he was old enough to, and responded by trying, in his own position as an even younger kid, to try and maneuver out of needing Munk’s care, so that the elder of the two could have time to act his own age.

But at the same time. Munk needs someone depending on him to feel right with himself. and Alonzo wasn’t able to see Jelly regularly enough to fully depend on her. And he loves Munk and wants Munk to be happy and calm. And hey. Munk does a good job at being a warm,, safe anchor for Lon. So he and Munk have a weird, very codependent relationship where they both know they should probably stretch their legs and grow some distance between each other, but neither really feels safe doing that.

And Alonzo becoming a Protector is then, I think, a compromise, from his point of view. He's still around Munk often; still looking to him as the leader and still depending on his guidance, but capable in his own right. Except of course if you know me you know I think that any skill Alonzo would display in a low stress normal situation would likely not be something he can do in a real, high stakes moment.

If you know me you also know that I think Munk was very ambivalent about letting Alonzo be a Protector, to the point of somewhat actively kneecapping him an reassuring him that Munk could take the really big threats on himself. So basically he saw it as a compromise of the same two outcomes as Alonzo, only both were trying to get more out of the opposite goal of the other.

And I'm still not sure about Deut's feelings on Alonzo. I don't think he was completely absent, even if he did just about nothing to raise the kid, and I don't think he's just devoid of care or worry for him. But if most of his actual connections with Munkustrap are superficial, then it'd be a miracle to find anything for him and Alonzo.

Alonzo is a walking reminder of Deut's failure. From his ibvious lineage to his similar coat pattern, he is Victor's son. And Victor's is dead. And Deut couldn't save him. And Deut has countless children, all over the country, that he doesn't know a thing about and has never done a thing for. I'm still unsure where I'm fitting Grizabella, likely Victor's littermate, and she leaves. She actively left. So with all of that hitting deut on Victor's death, and Alonzo's family resemblance, I think deut just like. Shut down. He couldn't be a dad, that was obvious; what up could do was be an encouraging community leader, so he did that. I do think post-ball, he and Alonzo might start to build an actual relationship? I like to think it anyway.

[catboyshinsou]

sick headcanons!

anon request: i love your writing smmm !! 🥺 can i request mha sick hcs where they take care of the reader when they don’t feel well 🥺 you choose who !! <3333

a/n: sorry it took so long <//3

pairings: Kaminari, Kirishima, Tokoyami and Monoma x sick,g/n!reader

warnings: none rlly, mention of throwing up in monoma, slight manga spoilers

can be seen platonically and romantically <3

kaminari:

Tbh i think he’d be quite Useless

Just rlly panicky n stuff bc what the fuck does one do with a sick person???

*walks into your dorm* “hey y-n wanna- WHAT THE FUCK YOU LOOK TERRIBLE”

*you in a blanket and not having enough energy to be offended* “i think i’m dying” “y/n WHAT”

He’d try his best regardless tho

He goes to sato and helps with doing something soothing and welcoming

On his way back to your dorm he passes aizawa and tells him you’re sick in THE worst way

“Oh yeah Aizawa-sensei, y/n is dying-” “THEY’RE WHAT”

Kami would definitely storm into the room with him and be just as worried

What if it was something really serious??? Like the plague?????

They find you just laying in bed, sniffling and groaning

Turns out it wasn’t the plague and just a bad flu

Flu with its whole jazz, you had a fever of 38C and you could barely move

Aizawa got you excused from classes for about a week and left again

Kami just stood there with his soup and went “oh thank god you're not dying”

like i said i think he'd be useless but try his best

he checks up on you every half hour either in person or via text during classes

he brings you stuff like blankets and foods even though you can't taste any of them or have any type of appetite

but! thanks to the fridge in your room you just had snacks for about… forever

he gave you extra attention too

sometimes he'd just sit on the ground and talk about his day and theories while you just laid under your blanket

you appreciated it though

except for aizawa, sato and tsuyu nobody came over and even they just came in every few hours

kami stayed for hours on end and even tried to convince aizawa to let him sleep over so he could “watch over you” incase you “stopped breathing”

it's not like you slept much when he was around anyway, nights were not ideal for a good rest on a sick day

it was endearing seeing him lay on a futon on the floor and poking you when he had to get up for class

he leaves notes and stuff to make sure you didn't get worried

did he do anything to make you feel better physically? not rlly

did he lift your spirits and make you feel less lonely? most definitely

kirishima:

hear me out

this boy is an angel when it comes to caring for people

when he got into the whole essentially self care stuff he also knows what's best for others

he was probably one of the first to notice you being ~off your game~

whether in class or just yknow vibing, he'd tap your shoulder and softly “you okay man?”

he calls everyone dude and man and bro no matter gender or anything he's just that into the manliness stuff

and yes he puts you in essentially self isolation more for yourself than for others

“your body needs to rest y/n! can't properly get better if everyone keeps bothering you!”

he calls you every night tho and he has aizawa bring you stuff when he checks up on you (he's allowed because he's the teacher ofc also as long you're a UA student like one of your legal guardians which is like a dad and dads can see their kids sick right?)

stuff ranges from just bowls of soup to compresses to the handmade ointment against a sore throat to like socks he knitted or something his parents sent in bc he told them you were sick

yes this boy tells his parents you're sick

i mean someone probably told yours but like twice the parents means twice the comfort!

alternatively if your parents are *cough* he'd tell his parents and put you on the phone with them because everyone needs some parental love from time to time (don't act tough about it, he's gonna make you cry and tell you how manly you are for doing so)

when you're back on your feet he probably still treats you like you're about to fall over for like two or three days more

he praises you for how well you did during your essential quarantine and when you say you didn't do anything he says some cheesy stuff about manliness

“bro i'm so proud of you for getting through it!” “i didn't do anything kiri-” “don't say that! it takes so much energy and manliness to keep in self isolation and get better, you did amazing”

tokoyami:

i love birds

also look at baby toko he's so cute

do birds get sick?

anyways

tokoyami is like.. helpful but tries to be undercover about it

he's not gonna ignore you or anything

he's the type to like silently nudge teachers into your area so they could see you were clearly sick and send you back to the dorms to rest

but he'd never actually ask you or tell anyone

it would ruin his whole ~vibe~

dark shadow tells him to tell someone and he rlly does especially if he sees you struggling through it in class but he's also just not great at talking with people so a nudge or “secret note” will have to do

it does work, you're in your dorm right before combat training because mic had sent you up and excused you

mic is sweet he said he'd send aizawa up when he finds him but that you should rest

he also tells you that you have some really attentive friends

you're at this point just letting the sickness take over you so you have no idea what he just said (you heard him but the words just didn't register in your brain)

you get into bed and the first thing you do is sleep through afternoon classes

tokoyami is only at 50% today and so is dark shadow

tokoyami swears he isn't worried, the teachers are capable of taking care of you in an appropriate manner so that you will recover in no time

dark shadow on the other hand is all gittery and doesn't wanna focus on anything but you

off topic but i just think dark shadow is tokoyamis way of showing emotions or well like… like his internal thoughts? not like his internal dialogue but ya know his feelings

so he can act all goth and dramatic but dark shadow is a good way of still giving some of his feelings an output

back to you

so training is over and so is your nap

but you wake up to pillows, stuffed animals, blankets and more pillows surrounding you

half of them weren't yours either

they laid around you like some kind of pillow fortress jusy surrounding you and making sure you didn't hit your head on the wall or fall from the bed

it kinda felt like a nest- oh

you tried getting up, your head almost immediately flinging uoh back into bed but you needed to see if a certain someone would come back in to build the nest

“dark shadow, be quiet we don't want them to w- oh you're up”

tokoyami came in with more stuffies and an extra blanket like it was a siberian winter and your rooms only source of warmth was an almost dying candle

“are those yours?” you asked half asleep, your head absolutely booming

you could barely keep your eyes open, that's how exhausted you were but you made an effort to smile at the bird and his shadow

“uh no, yaomomo-san insisted on making some blankets for you and hagakure-san, ashido-san and uraraka-san gave me all their stuffed animals when they heard i was paying you a visit-” “but the blue star blanket and teardrop pillow are from fumi!! he brought them from home because he can't sleep without them!!” “DARK SHADOW!”

you only chuckled before breaking out in a cough again

aizawa came in some time after and had a hard time finding you under all the blankets and stuffies and even offered to tell the class to stop bothering you

but you just laid there all cozy and told him to let them be

“it's how he shows affection, it's nice”

monoma:

oh so the 1A student got sick??? huh??? I thought 1A was invincible hUUUUUUH??? *manic laughter*

coughs

anyways

so basically the two hero courses are more “in tune” after the joint training

they often have dinners together and it isn't rare to see kendo come over with monoma and tetsu^4

she came over to hang with the girls and tetsu had training sessions with kiri

nobody rlly knew why monoma tagged along though

all he did was spout about how average everything is for the “superior hero course”

he did secretly like the classes growing together more though

he'd sit on the couch with you and occasionally laugh about something else other than his team beating yours during joint training

one day he came in and didn't see you at your usual spot

“ehhhh??? where's the only tolerable person in this course??”

used to his lowkey insults deku pointed you out at the dinner table, head resting on your hand and looking over some homework

“y/n what are you- oh my god you look horrible”

“thanks monoma, you're as nice as ever”

your face was drained of any colour, eyes heavy lidded and you could barely control the pen that scribbled over the paper

he tried grabbing your wrist but pulled back immediately

you were way too hot and the fact that he noticed by grabbing your wrist meant that it was more than just a high fever

“is 1A that incompetent that they couldnt even notice their classmate falling sick??? can you guys do anything but trouble???”

“shut up monoma, we tried getting them to bed but they insisted on finishing up first and there's nothing in the world that can get y/n away from what they've put their head to”, kaminari yelled from the living room space

how were you gonna get anything finished if your head was falling off your shoulders if you didn't hold it up

class 1A really was incompetent

“sato-san, give me a hand”

sato, who was currently cooking up dinner, just held out his hand and some type of chocolate bar which monoma grabbed and ate up

“this is incredibly sweet, i don't know how you do it”

it's become like half a routine for monoma to copy quirks for whatever reason

kiri and tetsu used it to determine which quirk was handier

uraraka’s quirk made cleaning up after a game night easier

it was training for all of them

monoma could train his copy and the others could measure how much they've grown from his reaction to it

anyways

sato’s quirk kicked in and he lifted you up over his shoulder

“monoma!” you could barely lift your voice, faintly kicking

before you knew it he placed you on your bed in your dorm and sighed

“you're lighter than i thought”

“i think i'm gonna throw up”

so you hurled into your garbage can

monoma held back whatever there was to hold back

(he was very much disgusted but even he knew that this wasn't the time to let any type of negative emotion show)

“jolly gees y/n, what did you have for breakfast?!”

you laid in bed as he passed you a water bottle

“you need to drink something, you lost a lot of water”

“awe caring for me, monoma?”

“this is for general health, y/n. i would never as much as care for anyone, especially not a brat from 1A. who even knew that any of you could fall sick huh?! weren't you supposed to be superior to the rest of us??!”

he said all of that while putting a blanket on you and opening the window for fresh air

“god you 1A fools really are incompetent!”

he went into your bathroom and soaked a small towel in water

“i'm only doing this so you don't infect anyone. god you could cause an epidemic at UA and in the end 1b would fall victim to you as well! this is all just for the general well-being!”

you didn't even hear what he was saying anymore

with a half empty bottle next to your head, you slept peacefully

monoma let out a deep breath when he saw you

“i'd never care for anyone in 1A, i'm better than that…”

he whispered those words to himself

(he did care)