#round two of using angsty panels for this

[what-the-fuck-khr]

september twenty-sixth

[peakyblindersxx]

whiskey business - john shelby x reader (part 6 of ?)

gif by my queen @michaelgreys, i'm basically her fanblog now but im not mad about it :) i mean just look at him!!1! i almost fainted

a/n: first of all, if you stuck around to this point, tysm for reading!!! this has been one of the most amazing fics ive ever been a part of and it's all thanks to the gorgeous @stxdyblr-2k, who generously took control of the next few parts. her brain is beautiful and we all owe her flowers or something. when i read what she sent me i couldn't bring myself to change much except for some small edits, so pls give her lots of love if you like it!!!! i'm still working on requests as well :)

love, abi xxx

read part one two three four five | my masterlist

tagging: @datewithgianni, @mayaslifeinabox, @deepdonutkid, @springsoulofengland, @lilymurphy03

prompt: nothing this good can last forever. john doesn't know how to feel, and neither do you.

warnings: nsfw! a teensy bit of smut, angsty as fuck prepare yourselves accordingly, a lil fluff if u squint, yeah this fucked me up

Obviously, it wasn't the last time.

Over the coming months you had many last times; his mouth pressed against your neck said as much. As his responsibility at work increased, you'd find yourself heading to his office after your lectures and night classes more often, perched on his lap, smoking, while he finished up his numbers under your critical gaze.

Thomas was more than aware; his snarky comments made it obvious he had his ways of monitoring your actions. You'd seen the dark car lurking outside your rallies and lectures, and no matter how you'd try to throw him off, not even telling Ada where you were going and even, in a moment of desperation, through your neighbours back window, somehow, his silent shadow was still looming. He was practically begging you to make a mistake, to give everyone an easy out. You just couldn't give him the satisfaction. You knew Tommy saw the world as a chess board, always several moves ahead of his opponent. Even when you played him in chess club all those years ago, you could outflank him if you thought on your feet and kept him thinking he was winning until you obliterated him in the end game. It was brutal, sure. But as he told you, there were bigger games at play. You had your own. Thomas could read your mail, intercept your phone calls and have you followed, but he couldn't hear what you said out of earshot. Your lot could smell an interceptor in your ranks, so spying at that close of a proximity was out of the question.

That's why he'd decided to let you have John. You knew his silent approval and his constant management of the narrative meant he saw a tactical gain. There was only so much information he could get from Ada, but John? He just had to agitate him in the right way and all your secrets would come tumbling out. It was difficult hiding your world from John; of what he knew of, he was supportive, quizzing you over current affairs and political discourse, listening intently. Yet, you had to watch your mouth. You had to keep a barrier up and you knew John sensed the distance. Fundamentally, there was nothing either of you could do.

So here you were, in a comfortable limbo. Your days were filled with work, evenings were for lectures and reading groups at the city's university, Ada and you often stopped for a drink or three; you'd go by your flat to freshen up, and then to John's office. Sometimes, you wouldn't visit for a week or so when the guilt sent you over the edge, it was draining to be living so many lives and knowing you were betraying the person you loved most on earth. Ada was oblivious, taking you on her nightly adventures filled with men, dancing and waiting while she was busy kissing in dark corners. Sometimes a young blinder would ask if you wanted to be walked home. The first occurrence you thought was sweet, but as the nights it occurred coincided with nights John seemed extra pent up, you'd decided to ask. The boy, who couldn't be older than twelve but who you knew was trained in using firearms and had a revolver pinned to his hip and a razor in his cap, looked confused.

"Mate, it's not a tough question. Why do you come and ask?"

"There's a phone call." He shrugs, "Isaiah or Michael tells us to go and get you."

Isaiah and Michael were somewhat aware? Fucking hell. Your fling was basically a military campaign at this point, so many of your friends were complicit. The little lads who ran as messengers around Birmingham were complicit. You had to just end it.

But when you sat on his thigh, his chin hooked over your shoulder, it felt so worth it. He never turned you away when you came crawling back. He never mentioned it until after you were finished, hooked under his arm.

"Fucking missed you, gorgeous."

Sometimes he'd remind you not to be a stranger with a wink, but you could tell it was tearing him apart too. He never once came to you. That's how he could justify it in his mind; obviously, the bare minimum was not having sex with his sister's best friend, but in failing that, waiting for you to initiate it was somewhat better. He barely talked to Ada now, citing work as an excuse, but truly the guilt sickened him. He couldn't believe he was prepared to continuously hurt his little sister and betray her. But every time you turned up at his door, he couldn't find it in himself to turn you away. In his mind, every single time you came to visit him was the last time he'd let it happen, yet he was always waiting for you to come back, his blind closed to signal he was prepared. He never would call, it had to be your choice.

You'd been off and on for over five months now. It was so difficult to hide in plain sight, but you just couldn't stop yourself. Neither of you purposefully meant for this to be happen but fuck, was it fun.

For your birthday he'd gifted you a fur coat from the same shop his sister, aunt and the fashionable crowd of Birmingham had purchased theirs. He joked that you looked like a "proper razor chaser", kissing you when you pouted at his teasing, begging you to wear only the coat when you fucked him next. It was a practice for blinders to buy a coat for their wives and girlfriends as a status symbol. You were neither, but John claimed that being his "favourite lass" also counted.

John was a laugh, but you knew at any time he could close his door to you. Until he decided he couldn't be bothered with you, you weren't going to get caught. You just had to be careful until he got bored.

***

You did end up putting a foot wrong. It was a Thursday night; you were sitting on the edge of John's desk while he was ridding you of your blouse. It was past midnight, Birmingham was asleep. You almost didn't bother coming out tonight, but you knew John had lost a deal and you wanted to be there for him. Your skirt and stockings were strewn across the desk with his shirt, vest and waistcoat, muddled into the files and papers which were once neatly stacked.

His fingers were pumping in and out of you, his mouth lapping at your breast, your head tipped back in euphoria, groaning. The stress made him more affectionate and tender with you, and it was nights like these that made you wonder. Wonder if this could ever be something more, something real.

John's body suddenly pulled away from yours, quickly turning the light off.

"John, what-" You were cut off by John’s hand over your mouth, muffling your words.

"Shut up and get behind the desk." He hissed. "Someone's coming upstairs."

You quickly grabbed your clothes from the shiny oak surface and crouched, hiding yourself from view, quickly making yourself decent. You weren't going to get shot through the head with your tits out. You listened to the stairs creek, and it sounded like a group. You two were easily outnumbered. They were talking, but the thick panels of wood muffled their voices.

As your eyes adjusted to the darkness, the cracks in the door giving the room a dulled glow, you could make out the figure of John. He was free of his shirt, toned body on display, standing with his back flat to the wall, revolver produced from a discreet notch in the door frame, gaze fixed on where they'd enter. He was tense, ready. The door was unlocked from the outside, the door handle twisting.

John's lip shifted in confusion yet still he kept his trigger finger ready, not a single shake from your general.

The light flicked on and a shriek rang out. It was blinding, and you stood up slightly dazed. Finn was in the doorway, John next to him clutching his chest, panting and lowering the gun.

"Jesus Christ, Finn, can't you knock like a normal person? Scared the shit out of us." John bellowed, shaking as the adrenaline coursed through his body, resting his hands on the edge of the desk as he regained his breath.

"You're the one who pointed a gun at me! I didn't even know you were in 'ere!" Finn yelped.

The commotion had attracted the attention of Ada and Isaiah, who had come running and stopped in their tracks upon seeing you standing behind John's desk in the middle of the night. They weren't stupid. John was topless, your clothes obviously rumpled, both with matching tousled hair and practically stinking of guilt. You'd been caught red handed. Ada's eyes flicked between both you and John, and you could practically see the pieces of the puzzle clicking together in her mind, all the moments she found questionable since you'd returned suddenly making sense, realising she had been deceived by the two people who she was meant to trust most in life. Finn looked absolutely crushed, he'd never been able to conceal his emotions as well as his older brothers and sister, linking his fingers through Ada's, squeezing her hand.

"I forgot to drop this off earlier." Finn stated, holding up a money box, "Ada had keys so we thought we'd sneak in so I wouldn't get done by Tommy. We did call round yours, Y/N. We thought you were in bed."

"I'm sorry." You said. It was not enough but you just didn't know what else to say. You couldn't make it right, you'd really fucked up this time. Tears pricked at your eyes, as Ada examined you in silence.

John stepped in front of you defensively. "Look, Ada-"

"How long has this been going on?" She asked, her voice shaking with rage. You and John exchanged a glance. "I said, how fucking long?"

"Five months, six in a fortnight." He answered.

Isaiah whistled lowly. "That's fucked. I thought it was only a few times, that it'd finished."

"Never really over when it's John is it." Finn interjects, you glance to him, were you just one in a long string? You shouldn't be surprised but it was easy to pretend he may actually care about you.

"You've been fucking around for six months behind my back?" Ada yelped, Finn trying to comfort her but she pulled away from him. "And you fucking knew Iz."

"I'd expect this from you, yeah? Wouldn't put anything past you these days.." she sneered at John, "But you? You?! You're meant to be my best mate, but here you are sneaking about fucking my brother?"

"Ada-" you began, eyes welling with tears.

"I thought I could trust you. You're just another fucking razor chaser, aren't you?" She spits. "That's why you came back."

"No it wasn't, Ada-"

Her eyes flashed with anger, but this time John was on the receiving end. "You bought her that fucking coat ,didn't you? The fur one. You did! Fuck's sake!" Her fists were clenched, shoulders squared. For the first time in your life, you understood why crowds parted for Ada Shelby. Understood all the free drinks and cab rides, the nervous serving staff declaring your meal on the house (always acknowledged by Ada with a hefty tip), understood why the men of Birmingham didn't last long with her.

"Did it feel good to swan about town in that fucking coat, while acting as though you cared about me? It's so fucking embarrassing. All trussed up because my knobhead big brother makes you feel special? Thanks for rubbing it in my face."

"Ada, I love you. I never meant to hurt you, I got caught up and that's on me. It's my fault."

"You're not acting like you love me. This isn’t what love is, Y/N." She retorted.

You couldn’t do anything but nod. She was right.

John opened his mouth to speak, Ada silencing him, a scowl darkening her features.

"I don't care what you have to say. Any of you. Who else knows?"

"Thomas, Michael, Arthur-" John listed off slowly, each name prompting Ada to break down a little bit more in front of you.

"I didn't know Arthur knew." You said pointedly, John sending you an exasperated glance. He was planning on dealing with that later, but right now was about his sister. Fuck him if he thought you were going to stick around much longer. You didn't want to hear him justify everyone else knowing about your fling with your best friend being left completely in the dark.

"That all you have to say for yourself?" Ada snaps at you.

"I have fucking no defense, do I Ada? I should've walked away." You pushed your hair back, frustrated at yourself, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. You begged yourself not to cry. Tears wouldn't help anything.

"Why didn't you?"

You didn't know. Your silence only riled her up.

"Why didn't you fucking walk away?" Ada yelled, slamming her hands on the desk.

You felt hot tears run down your face, quickly moving your hands to dab at your tears.

"Don't you dare fucking cry. After all you've done, you don't get to cry in front of me." Ada growled at you, John going to shush her, obviously wanting to comfort you. "You can all fuck off. You've all lied to me and gone behind my back. Fuck’s sake, you could've just told me. You could've just told me."

"We didn't want to hurt you." John said, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder but she flinches away.

"This hurts so much more. You get that you all lying to me is so much worse, don't you?"

"We weren't thinking."

"You really fucking weren't." Ada laughs bitterly, shaking her head, blinking away tears. "Fuck you lot."

She stormed out, tailed by Finn, begging her to slow down and talk to him, protesting his innocence in the situation. Isaiah hesitated in the doorway, his eyes flickering between you and John.

"I had no idea you two've been at it for so long."

"Iz, fuck off yeah? I've had enough today." John shot back, sliding across the desk towards you. "You alright, lass?"

"We're done here, John."

He slid off the table, his hand cupping your face, "Hey, gorgeous, I get it but don't go breaking my heart tonight. Can we just leave this for tomorrow? Sleep on it."

The idea of getting any sleep at all tonight was laughable, you'd be up all night replaying these moments and torturing yourself. Tonight couldn't get any worse so you had to finally end it. Now was the right time.

"John, it should've never happened."

"But it did."

"I don't want to talk about this anymore. It's over."

"Y/N. You know for me it was never just about-"

"You're making it difficult. Stop making it difficult. Whatever you say isn't going to change that right now we have to do the right thing."

"I know you're right, but I don't want to let go. Is it so wrong to want you? I adore you, you know that."

You wouldn't meet his eyes. Sighing, John pressed his forehead to the side of your head, chin brushing your shoulder, eyes closing. He was begging you to stay with him. There had to be a solution, you'd figure it out together. His voice was cracking, eyes glassy. He looked so much younger when he was pleading. The tall bloke who terrorised the Midlands with his razor rimmed cap, a revolver in his hand, and a ruthless trigger finger had vanished. You wanted to stay, burning to curl up with him and for him to kiss it better.

"I should go." You told him. He rested his forehead on your shoulder, letting out a shaky sigh before pulling away, nodding.

"I'd drive you home but obviously-"

"Obviously."

John suddenly turned from you, eyes narrowing at Isaiah who was still hovering at the door. "Thought I told you to fuck off. Make yourself useful and get Y/N home safely." His tone was ice cold once again.

Isaiah nodded, offering his arm to you. You reached the door and instinctively looked back at John. His eyes met yours, staring at you from his desk, just as you knew he would. He prepared himself to watch you leave every night, but this time was different. That was it with you two.

Isaiah strode down the street with you in silence. You were tucked into his side as was customary with the upcoming blinders who were particularly ambitious, but there was no relaxed chat.

"Isaiah. What’re you thinking?" You asked, voice tinged with nervousness.

He sighed, running his free hand across his jaw, "That was intense in there."

"Just how he is." You shrugged.

"Does he love you or sommet?"

"Fuck knows… does it matter?"

"Of course it does. Do you love him?"

"Drop it. None of that matters, it shouldn't have happened in the first place so it can’t," You snapped, the anger at the situation you'd created suddenly overwhelming.

Isaiah whistled, raising his brow at your obvious turmoil. "You're in fucking deeper than you want to admit."

He walked you up your path, watching you turn the key to the side door leading to your bedsit. You paused, turning to him.

"Iz… I don't know what to do next."

It was so dark, you could see his face only by the lit cigarette burning to embers between his fingers. He inhaled deeply, pausing before delivering his carefully laid out plan of avoidance. Obviously the event of him crossing the Shelbys and losing their good graces weighed heavily on his mind. You nodded, listening intently, noting his ideas of relocation but he explained they were a final resort. The best thing to do was try to regain their trust; in the long run, he had calculated, it was the only option that didn't result in your life being haunted by the Shelbys. Even if they left you alone, their enemies would make a point to go after you, seeing you as an easy target. The other option was to leave the country.

"Good luck, Y/N. I mean it." He muttered as you turned the handle to the temporary safety of your home. You nodded, offering you cheek for the polite good night kiss you'd become accustomed to. He rolled his eyes and obliged, pressing an affectionate kiss to your cheek and ruffling your hair. "I'm serious. Watch your back."

***

John broke down when he finally heard the lock click shut. His eyes had been prickling with boiling tears, his jaw tensed to hold them back. He yelled out in anger, flipping his desk with force, a loud crash as the wood splintered against the stone flooring, glass shattering from the photo frames. His hands went to his head, unable to stop the gasping breaths escaping from his trembling lips, his face reddening.

"Fuck’s sake." He growled. He'd fucked everything up. He had nothing, just as he'd told you the first night you returned. The consequence was no surprise, he'd anticipated the fall out for a while, but he couldn't resist you. He was completely guilty and had no defense; his only justification being that you made him think with his cock, not his brain.

Fuck’s sake. Polly was going to murder him. She'd always had a soft spot for Ada, as the only girl in the family, and was no stranger to lecturing him over his flirtatious behaviour around Ada's friends. She'd murder him. He had a half mind to never go home. He rubbed at his eyes with his knuckles. Polly had no use for tears. That's what she'd tell him when he was a boy coming home with a skinned knee. This was far worse.

He was also sure that he was a worse brother than Tommy, perhaps the worst in the world. His baby sister, who he'd helped to toddle, carry proudly on his shoulders after school and race with her on his back through the fields on the outskirts of Small Heath, had walked in on him obviously in the midst of fucking her best mate. If he had swallowed his pride and actually talked to her, he wouldn't be in this mess. He could've told her that things changed, that for the same reasons Ada loved Y/N he had fallen for her, that he was truly sorry but she had to know before it got too far and someone got hurt. He couldn't go back.

He should've never approached you that night.

He should never approach you again.

He looked over the mess of his office, the splintered wood and shards of glass, a confetti of paperwork. Now nothing mattered. None of this mattered. He'd lost everything and he had only himself to blame.

[sugarybitterness]

always home - natasha romanoff x reader

word count; 1,688

warnings; gunshot, injuries, blood

a/n; a little angsty but there’s fluff i promise! feedback is always appreciated <3

the mission had been a bust. there were more enemy agents than you had anticipated, meaning you and wanda could barely hold them off even with both your powers. as the two of you fought under the dark sky with only the moon providing a small source of light, you were seriously considering a retreat at this point. a loud cry broke through your concentration and your heart sank when you saw wanda crumpled on the ground with a hand on her side. you growled angrily as you quickly created a barrier around wanda and used your telekenisis to push away the agents surrounding you before running over, pushing back anyone who tried to intercept you or get near wanda.

“y/n/n, it hurts,” wanda gasped out as soon as she saw you, one hand was pressed against her side while her free hand was glowing red, pushing back the agents.

“i know wan, i know. come on, we need to leave,” you told her gently as you moved the barrier to accommodate the two of you as you pushed her hand firmer against the wound to try and stop the bleeding. why was there so much blood?

“but the information-“ wanda tried to protest but a pained gasp fell from her lips again. you felt the telltale burn in your eyes, wanda was like a younger sister to you and you have always been protective over your family.

“fuck the information. you’re hurt and i’m getting you home.” you stated firmly before helping wanda up. the sokovian let out a final wave of magic to knock out the remaining few agents nearby but the shouts and heavy footsteps from the base meant that you really had to hurry.

once the two of you reached the quinjet, you helped wanda onto the makeshift medical bed and instructed her to keep pressure on the wound before running to the control panel. you quickly keyed in the coordinates of the avengers tower, letting FRIDAY take over pilot controls and instructing the AI to let the team know that wanda needed immediate medical attention.

once the quinjet was in the air you hurried back to wanda’s side and replaced her hand with yours to apply pressure, mumbling soft apologies when the younger girl cried out in pain. a quick check showed that there was an entry wound but no exit wound, you cursed quietly as you check with FRIDAY how far out you were from the tower.

“i’m going as fast as i can miss y/l/n but it will still take another 20 minutes. the team has been notified and medical staff are on standby to receive miss maximoff once we land.” the AI’s words did little to reassure you. with one hand still on the wound, you moved another hand to gently wipe away the tears from wanda’s face.

“i’m sorry i couldn’t protect you better wan,” you apologised quietly, placing a soft kiss on her forehead. wanda did her best to smile at you, but you could tell she really was in a fair bit of pain. after the longest 20 minutes you’ve experienced, FRIDAY finally announced that you were landing. with one hand still on her side, you used your magic to lift the now semi-conscious wanda up gently. the moment the doors opened, you flew out with her and placed her on the waiting gurney. allowing a nurse to take over your position, you quickly placed another kiss on wanda’s head before tony, bruce and the rest of the med team wheeled her away quickly. once she was finally inside the compound you allowed your full wave of emotions to overcome you, tears finally falling and knees buckling. before you could hit the ground you felt a familiar pair of arms quickly wrap around you, bringing you to sit on their lap as they sat on the floor.

“there was so much blood nat.. i thought- i thought we wouldn’t make it back in time.” you whimpered out quietly as you continued to sob into your girlfriends chest. arms hanging limply at your side as you didn’t want to hug natasha back knowing that your hands were still stained red with wanda’s blood. natasha ran one hand up and down your back as her other hand rested on your neck, holding you close. she knew that there really wasn’t much that could be said to ease your worry or quell the guilt so she simply let you cry it out. when steve came over, mouth opening to ask about the mission, he was quickly shut down with a sharp glare from natasha. raising his hands in surrender, he left to go check on wanda in the med bay, throwing one last concerned look at the way you seemed so small in natasha’s lap (even though you were supposed to be the taller one.)

once your sobs finally subsided, natasha quietly asked if you wanted to take a bath or shower, or if you needed to go get yourself checked up. when you quietly asked for a shower with her, natasha smoothly stood up with her arms tucked under your legs, carrying the two of you into your room in the tower.

setting you down on the sink in your shared bedroom, natasha grabbed the things she would need to clean you up. while you had managed to fight off most of the agents with your barriers, you ended up engaging in a few rounds of hand to hand combat which meant that you had way too many bruises and cuts for natasha’s liking. as gently as she could, natasha took your bloodied hands and ran them under the tap allowing the water to wash away wanda’s blood. the thought of your teammates blood on your hands made you feel sick to your stomach, even though you weren’t the one that caused it but the fact that she had gotten hurt still made you feel like shit. you closed your eyes when you felt another wave of tears hit you, wishing desperately that things had gone differently and that the girl you called your sister wasn’t currently in surgery. your friendship with wanda had always been a little rocky, considering she made you and the rest of your team relive your darkest memories and fears. but then again, all of you had done some not so great things in the past- yourself included. wanda worked hard, pushing herself to be better in more ways than one and in some way trying to prove that she really did belong in this slightly dysfunctional family called the avengers.

“she’s a fighter, she’ll be okay.” natasha spoke quietly, smiling softly at you when you opened your eyes to look at her. you nodded in response, knowing that the redhead was right.

“you can feel the guilt detka but you cannot allow it to consume you.” natasha reminded you gently, drying her hands on her sleep shorts before moving to wipe away your tears. nodding again, you pushed your cheek against your girlfriend’s hands. despite her hands being slightly rough from all her time training and handling weapons, she always held you with such tenderness.

after you were cleaned up by natasha and the two of you had a warm shower, natasha bundled you up in your favourite sweater which used to be natasha’s until you took it. as you tried leave your room to make your way to the medical wing of the tower, you were quickly stopped by the redhead who stood in between you and the door.

“going to wait at the medical wing won’t do you any good detka. you need to rest.” natasha knew that the two of you had planned to strike at night and knowing how stubborn you were, instead of sleeping at the safehouse you probably went over the plan with yourself several times and made sure you had the blueprint of the building committed to memory.

you opened your mouth to argue but natasha gave a compromise, “we can ask FRIDAY to wake us up when wanda’s out of surgery, i promise i’ll wake you. but i need you to sleep, please detka.”

“fine.” you grumbled and went to lie on the bed while natasha talked to FRIDAY as she followed suit, lying next to you on the bed. you turned on your side to look at natasha and once FRIDAY stopped talking, the redhead shifted her attention back to you.

“cuddles?” you asked quietly, though you really didn’t need to.

“always.” was natasha’s reply as she pulled you closer to her and planted a soft kiss on your lips which you returned with a soft sigh.

“i love you my natty, thank you for taking care of me.” you mumbled against your girlfriend’s lips before give her another kiss.

“anything for you my love, i love you too.” natasha responded, kissing you again before readjusting your positions so your head was against her chest, allowing her heartbeat to lull you to sleep.

true to her word, natasha woke you up a couple hours later when wanda was out of surgery and the two of you made your way to go check on the sokovian. thankfully the bullet hadn’t hit anything major and the doctor managed to get it out quickly before closing up the wound. with the help of some advanced medical tech, wanda would be back to normal in a week or so. knowing that you would want to be there when wanda woke up, natasha quietly guided you to the couch and pulled you to lie on her.

“sleep detka,” natasha whispered, one hand wrapped around your waist while the other stroked your hair softly. too tired and relieved to fight back, you melted into the embrace. just as you were about to fall back to sleep, you thought about how extremely lucky you were to have someone as wonderful as natasha to come home to. even after a shitty mission like this, she managed to you feel so much better and so much safer. natasha will always be your home.

[timextoxhajima]

Love Me A Little Less: Chapter 3 - Her Father’s Daughter

LOVE ME A LITTLE LESS CHAPTER MASTERLIST

Member: (3rd person pov) arranged marriage au with Lee Juyeon

Genre: angsty wangsty

Taglist: @hyunvelies @sunwoowuvbot​​

“You want the luxury of a choice? I’ll give one to you right now, so you better make the right one.” ​

“Now, this just coming in-- The next director of Apple-Korea, Lee Juyeon and Hera’s Princess, Kim Jang Won... have been reportedly dating for almost three years now!”

“No!”

“Yes! And get this: this wedding? It’s been on the planning table for almost 6 months!”

Lee Juyeon peers out the window as the car slows to a halt, hazel brown orbs scanning the traffic outside. Multiple LED screens on the sides of corporate buildings were broadcasting the news. The crinkling of a plastic wrapper ruins the beauty the amount of shock amongst the community was bringing Juyeon, cuing him to turn back and face his fellow passenger. The sight of Kim Jang Won awakens his corporate-thinking brain, processing the gravity of the news she falsely put out just about... five minutes ago.

“Your father just climbed out of his own grave and you wouldn’t give him half a day to busk in the spotlight, huh?”

“Mm,” She hums, gracefully taking a bite out of the fruit-yoghurt bar. “I would’ve given him a lifetime worth of spotlight if he came back as a zombie and there would be some sign of actual death but-- nah, he’s been alive since the day we thought he all dropped dead from that heart attack of his. God knows where he’s been the last two years, hiding and letting me build HERA & ARTEMIS... only to take it away from me?” She shakes her head, smacking her lips and taking another bite. “Not a chance.”

Juyeon laughs through his exhales, unsure whether he’s more in disbelief he’s trapped in this chaos or how poised Jang Won’s uncouthness in handling this situation was. His phone buzzes, and he coyly pulls it out to check the message in the screen amongst all the other stupid headlines. 

Young Jin Seol [12.52pm] : You’ve been schedule for a meeting with The Board at 4pm later, sir. 

He locks the device and slides it back into the inner breast pocket of his blazer. “I assume your brother is taking this better than you?”

“Excuse you, I think I’m taking this much better than most people expected me to. Well, better than I expected myself to,” The wrapper crinkles when she finishes it. The car drives up into the entrance of her mansion, easily dozens of reporters already beginning to pillow the car. 

“I have a meeting with The Board later at 4pm. Will you be present?” Juyeon raises a brow, watching Jang Won slide on her sunglasses. Her blue fingernails glimmer as she carefully folds the wrapper, using her tongue to dig the crevices of her mouth. 

“Of course, why wouldn’t I be, hubby?” She offers a seductive smirk, then unbuckles her seatbelt to lean across to him. Sliding the folded plastic wrapper into his breast pocket, Jang Won presses her cherry lips onto his, earning incessant flashes and shouts from outside the car. 

“Mm, I can still taste the wine and the tad bit of salt you got left from lunch with your Mommy and Daddy.” 

Juyeon frowns, gritting his teeth as she pulls away and exits the car on her side. The shouts and questions directed at her are muffled when she slams the car shut, her bodyguards from the mansion rushing down the steps to create a pathway for her. 

The car finally drives off, and Juyeon can’t help but to sneer in disgust at the cherry shade left on his lips. The grimace on his face nearly earns a snigger from his driver. 

“What? Funny?”

“On the contrary, sir,” He eyes Juyeon through the rear mirror. “I think she’s rather charming.”

Juyeon nearly chokes on his saliva, pulling out a napkin from one of the seat’s back pockets. “‘Charming’ my ass. She’s a dangerous woman and I’m just keeping myself alive.”

BREAKING: LEE JUYEON AND KIM JANG WON TO BE PRESENT AT THE BOARD’S PRESS CONFERENCE AT 4PM LATER THIS AFTERNOON

Mr Ro has the most disapproving look on his face as Jang Won pridefully pushes her way into the entrance hall, heels clacking against the marble and smiling widely at her butler. But of course, her brother shows up from the hallway, clearly dissatisfied.

“What the Hell’s wrong with you? You can’t run off like that and lying to the media!”

“Oh, please. This is nothing. Hey! Can I get my wardrobe and hairstylist down soon? I want to look nothing less of Kylie Jenner at her mother’s funeral at my own press conference!”

“It is exactly because I know you’re just getting started that I think you should stop,” Younghoon quickens his steps, reaching out and grabbing her arm. “You are not only pulling our family into this - you are pulling the Lee family into this.”

“Well, hey! I wasn’t the one who put their son up for sale when the offer came along!”

“But Lee Juyeon didn’t even want to be a part of this! He had no choice because his parents made it for him!”

“And did I?!” Jang Won’s near-shriek echoes through the halls. Mr Ro winces, gently shutting his eyes to regulate the surprise. “You say that of him as if I had a choice. I didn’t want dad to die. I didn’t want to take HERA & ARTEMIS. You think I wanted to spend all those nights and days and shitty bar hangouts with rich people trying to get them to sponsor and invest in HERA & ARTEMIS? Hell, no!”

She tears her wrist out from Younghoon’s grasp, shoving him back by pushing against his left shoulder. “Maybe you don’t know how shitty it feels because all you had to do was wait for HERA & ARTEMIS to become successful enough before you could build your stupid entertainment company. But right now, I’m fighting for what I created; for what I made, and I will tell you right here and right now that I am not stopping until I get what I fucking own so you better... and I really, really, really hope you make the right decision when I say you better pick a side.”

Her brother remains frozen in some kind of resignation as she closes the gap toward him. “Just because we share the same last name, doesn’t mean I will spare you, Kim Younghoon. You want the luxury of a choice? I’ll give one to you right now, so you better make the right one.”

Jang Won turns on her heels and strides past Mr Ro to the stairs, walking up to the second floor where she would spend the next 3 hours getting pampered and fitted for her press conference as the new bride of Lee Juyeon. 

The smile Lee Juyeon has on his face looked like it was programmed; sculpted onto a stone statue; frozen in time. His father almost cannot look at it - even through the television screen, he knows it’s fake. He knows Juyeon hates it. 

But Hera’s Princess couldn’t care less. Why would she? She’s getting what she wanted, or at least, part of it. Now that she’s got Lee Juyeon playing the game by her rules, she’s one step nearer to her goal, and that’s to win back HERA & ARTEMIS from her own father. 

The jewel sitting on her left ring finger shone brightly with every flash a certain camera in the room went off. The Blue Nile Round Diamond 30-carat ring could blind someone if she deliberately shone its reflection into someone’s eyes.

“Today, The Board invites the next director of Apple-Korea and his newly announced fiancé, also known as Hera’s Princess and current owner of HERA & ARTEMIS to our monthly press conference of May. We warmly welcome Lee Juyeon and Kim Jang Won.”

The reporters and journalists provide a rather generous round of applause as Juyeon steps up the platform and takes his seat, Jang Won on his left with the brightest, sweetest smile he’s seen on her in the last six hours. 

“Thank you. We’re absolutely honoured to be here today, my fiancé and I. Today, we announce our upcoming plans up till the end of the year, assuming my father still grants me some kind of authority to HERA & ARTEMIS,” She scoffs the last part of her sentence away, earning some scattered chuckles from the crowd. It irks Juyeon, the way he knows she’s being sarcastic and her words are filled with nothing but the poison of hatred and yet these people can’t hear it for the love of God.

Sympathy, he feels. For a short, fleeting moment, he feels sad for her.

“But otherwise, my father and I have agreed on a major reform of HERA & ARTEMIS.”

Juyeon’s eyes light up, not from enthusiasm, but anxious anticipation.

“Before my father is to take full ownership of HERA & ARTEMIS by June, firstly, we will have our wedding in April,” Coyly grabbing Juyeon’s hands and showing them off to the audience, rings around their fingers. “And secondly, after my fiancé advances to director, Apple-Korea will buy 50% of HERA & ARTEMIS.”

The effort Juyeon was investing into hiding his shock, confusion and frustration in his chest was of immense, ground-breaking magnitude. His grip around her hand tightens, and she tightens her jaw, forcing out a smile when the reporters and journalists break out into murmurs and surprised exchanges.

“My brother, Kim Younghoon, will assume full ownership of Artemis as a separate entertainment company, no longer attached to HERA & ARTEMIS. Artemis will become a collaborator or partner, no longer a subsidiary.”

The panel of officials from The Board looked extremely restless from the corner of Juyeon’s eyes, and he finds trouble in deciding which to offer more attention to: the fact that one single person was intelligent enough to send the entire world of The Board into chaos, or the fact that she was already making use of him even before he assumed the role of director. 

Her fingers are now interlocked with his, resting on the table as the camera flashes go off, illuminating the room every other second. 

THE BOARD’S MAY PRESS CONFERENCE: 

LEE-KIM WEDDING IN APRIL, LEE JUYEON TO ASSUME DIRECTOR OF APPLE-KOREA IN MAY AND BUY 50% OF HERA & ARTEMIS, KIM JO-PIL TO ASSUME OWNERSHIP OF THE OTHER 50% IN JUNE, KIM YOUNGHOON TO ASSUME FULL OWNERSHIP OF ARTEMIS AFTER DETACHMENT, “ARTEMIS TO BECOME PARTNER OR COLLABORATOR”, KIM JANG WON SAYS

Younghoon’s inhales sharply, standing and frowning at the television screen after finally being unable to contain his shock. The reflection off the pool outside his living room paints inconsistent waves on his ceiling, the sound of pool water wading being the only thing he can hear besides the commotion from the broadcasted press conference. 

Scoffing aggressively, he covers his mouth and drags his fingers down to his chin, pulling on his skin and pursing his lips into a thin, white line. 

“Father, you have made the grave mistake of underestimating your daughter,” Younghoon smiles, then grins widely, somehow proud. “Her father’s daughter after all.”

Jang Won’s smile beams throughout the room, and for a split second Juyeon is mesmerized by it. Her eyes have been planted with the horrors of nightmares and terrible myths combined and yet there was something about that smile that made him think ‘Maybe being your fiance wouldn’t be too bad’.

“Before we open up the floor to the invited reporters and journalists, would Mr Lee like to say anything?” One of the officials from The Board finally gets up, hiding his confusion and anxiety behind his polite, service smile. 

Lee Juyeon sits up straight in his seat, thumb gently massaging hers as he resumes the act. Jang Won’s service smile remains coded into her lips, eyes loving as she turns to him. 

The whole world is watching, Juyeon. He thinks. The whole world is watching you put up this act, being in love with Hera’s Princess - arguably the most cunning name tied to The Board. Choose her and she’ll give you what you want. Choose otherwise and who knows what will happen?

“Mr Lee?”

“I think my fiancé has said everything that’s on my mind, haven’t you, love?” Juyeon smiles sweetly, eyes folding into long, thin lines. The curl of her lips are of triumph when she knows he’s bought into what she offered him; what she promised him. She cannot do this without him and he knows this, but what better way than to assert his authority than to pair up with the most powerful female in this shitty world?

Kim Younghoon’s eyes widen, fingers digging deep into the material of the cushion on his sofa as he watches Juyeon remove his hands from Jang Won’s, instead cupping her cheeks and bringing her face to his. 

Mr Ro strides past the first guestroom, hearing the sound of the news playing on the television in the room. He looks through the gap of the door that was left ajar, cautiously watching Kim Jo-Pil nervously swirling a glass of whiskey in his hands as the next director of Apple-Korea tilts his head, on screen.

“Play along, would you?” He whispers, and Jang Won’s pride surges when he presses his lips into hers. The floor of reporters and journalists erupt into questions and cameras go off like Donald Trump had just been shot dead. 

Kim Jo-Pil freezes, watching the whole press conference room light up with fluorescent flashes. But Mr Ro can’t help the jolt when Kim Jo-Pil deliberately flings the glass into the floor, pieces flying across the wooden flooring. 

“She’s her father’s daughter after all, sire.”

[rallamajoop]

...and the unironic joys of better living through chemistry

How do I love Venom: The Hunger, let me count the ways…

It’s by far the shippiest Venom/Eddie story to come out of the character’s heyday. It’s the only story of the era to treat Venom’s violent wild-animal instincts not as an immutable fact, but as something that can be managed. It pulls off an aesthetic like nothing else that was being done at the time.

And then there’s the way it says, Does the world around you seem sinister and foreboding? Do you lie awake at night contemplating metaphorical oceans of despair? Well shit, son – have you considered you may be suffering from a mundane neurochemical imbalance, and a round of the right meds could clear that right up for you?

It does all this without breaking the atmosphere, without a whiff that our story has been interrupted for a Very Special Message about mental health.

In the near-decade since I was first prescribed anti-depressants, I don’t think I’ve read another story that lands the message “Sometimes, it’s not you, it’s just your brain chemistry,” so well.

Fair warning: if you have not read The Hunger, I am about to spoil every major plot point. If you have, well, maybe I can still give you a new appreciation for a few details you might have missed.

It’s a strange book, whatever else you take from it. It’s almost the only thing either author or artist contributed to the Venom canon, and it’s so different stylistically and tonally from the 90′s Venom norm that it feels like a tale from some noir-elseworlds setting instead of 616 canon. When you take risks that big with a property, you leave yourself precious little landing space between 'unmitigated triumph’ and ‘abject failure’: if this book hadn’t absolutely nailed it, I’d be dismissing it as edgy, OOC dreck. Fortunately, if The Hunger is nothing else, it is a story that $&#@ing commits – to basically everything it does.

Now, I'm not going to tell you Venom: The Hunger is a story about overcoming depression, because I don't know whether author Len Kaminski even thought about it that way while working on it. There's always space for other readings, and this one take is not gospel. That said: holy shit is this thing unsubtle with its metaphors. And with that in mind, let’s start by talking a little about Kaminski’s take on Eddie himself.

As I may have mentioned before, I like to divide 90′s Eddie into two broad personas: the Meathead, and the Hobo.

Kaminski’s Eddie nominally belongs in the angsty, long-haired Hobo incarnation, but that’s a bit of a simplification: this version certainly has plenty of angst and plenty of hair to his name – but nowhere, not even at his lowest ebb, does he doubt that he and his Other are meant for each other, which is usually Hobo!Eddie’s primary existential quandary.

He’s also taken up narrating his own life like a hardboiled PI.

So that’s... novel.

The only other time Eddie’s sounded like this is, er, in that one other Venom one-shot Kaminski penned (Seed of Darkness, a prequel that sadly isn’t in The Hunger’s league), so I think we can safely file it under authorial ticks.

Then again, Hobo!Eddie’s always been one melodramatic SOB, so maybe this is just how he’d sound after learning to channel his angst into his poetry. You can’t argue it fits the aesthetic, anyway.

We’d also be remiss not to mention Ed Halsted’s art, which I can only describe as gothic-meets-noir-meets-H.R.-Giger. Never before or since has the alien symbiote looked this alien: twisted with Xenompoph-like ridges and veins.

But Halsted doesn’t treat Venom to all that extra detail in every panel. Instead, the distortion tends to appear when the symbiote is separated from Eddie or out of control – and I doubt you need me to walk you through the symbolic importance of that creative decision. More importantly, Halsted’s art provides exactly the class of visuals that Kaminski’s story needs.

Did I mention this is a horror story? You might be surprised how few Venom stories really fit that genre, but if all those adjectives about Halsted’s style above didn’t clue you in, this is one of them.

Anyway, with that much context covered, let’s get into the main narrative of this thing.

As our first issue opens, Eddie’s world has become a dark and foreboding place. He’s not sleeping, though he mostly brushes this off. (Fun fact: trouble sleeping is one of those under-appreciated symptoms of depression. Additional fun fact: the first doctor ever to suggest I might be suffering from depression was actually a sleep specialist. You can guess how that appointment was going.)

Just to set our scene, here’s all of page 1.

Eddie’s narration has plenty of (ha) venom for his surroundings, but the visuals are here to back him up: panels from Eddie’s POV are edged in twisted, fleshy borders and drained of colour, the people rendered as creepy, goblin-like creatures. A couple of later scenes go even further to contrast Eddie-vision with what everyone else is seeing:

As depictions of depression go this is a little on the nose, but then, you don’t read a comic about a brain-eating alien parasite looking for subtlety, do you?

Eddie  doesn’t see himself as depressed, of course. As far as he’s concerned, he’s seeing the world’s true face: it’s everyone else who’s deluding themselves. He’s still got his symbiote, so he’s happy. He’s yet to hit that all-important breaking point where something he can’t brush off goes irrevocably wrong.

But he’s also starting to experience these weird... cravings.

He just can’t put a name to exactly what he’s craving until a routine bar fight with a couple of thugs takes a turn for the horrific.

(I include this panel partly to point out even in The Hunger, the goriest of all 90′s Venom titles, you’re still not going to see brains getting eaten in any graphic detail. We don’t need to to get the horror of the moment across. The 90′s were a more innocent time.)

Eddie himself is horrified when he comes back to himself and realises what he’s done.

Or rather, what his symbiote’s just made him do.

Kaminski doesn’t keep us in suspense about why, though. Eddie may have just done something horrific, but there’s a reason, and it’s as mundane as a vitamin deficiency. He’s bonded to an alien creature, after all, and his symbiote is craving a nutrient which just happens to be found in human brains. And if Eddie can’t or won’t help it meet that need, it’ll do so alone. 

Now, giving us that explanation so quickly is an interesting creative decision: this is a horror story, and horror lives in what we don’t know. Wouldn’t it be all the more horrifying had the symbiote been unable to explain what’s going on, leaving Eddie without the first real clue as to where this monstrous new hunger had come from?

The Hunger doesn’t take that route though, and I love it. Eddie isn’t a monster, this isn’t his fault: he has a fucking condition, and wallowing in his own moral failings is going to get him nowhere. You might as well try to cure scurvy or rickets with positive thinking. Just like depression can make you feel like an utter failure at the most basic parts of being human, and all the affirmations in the world won’t fix it when it’s fundamentally your brain chemistry that’s the problem. Or like addicts aren’t weak-willed for struggling not to relapse, they’re dealing with genuine chemical dependency – or even like how someone who’s trans isn’t at fault for being unable to reconcile themselves to the bodies and the hormones they were born with by pure force of trying. Free will is more than an illusion, but we’re all messy, biological organisms underneath, and your own brain and biochemistry can and will fuck you over in a hundred wildly different ways for as many wildly different reasons and it’s not your fault.

We aren’t monsters. But if we do, sometimes, find ourselves identifying with the monster, there might be a reason for that.

(Ahem)

I’m just saying, that’s fucking powerful, and we need more stories that say it.

Anyway, in case you missed it during that tangent, issue #1 closes with the symbiote having torn Eddie’s heart in two itself free to go hunting brains without him.

I’m trying not to get too sidetracked at this point talking about Kaminski’s take on the symbiote itself. Suffice to say there are broadly two schools of thought on how it ought to function while separated from its host: the traditional ambulatory-slime-puddle version, and the more recently popular alternative where anything-you-can-do-with-a-host-you-can-also-do-without-one. I’m not much of a fan of the latter, personally: if your symbiote doesn’t actually need a host, I feel you’ve sort of missed the point. (The movie takes the route of saying symbiotes can’t even process Earth’s atmosphere without a host, which is a great new idea that appears nowhere in the comics, and I love it. Hosts or GTFO, baby!)

Kaminski has his own take, and I can only wish it had caught on. Without Eddie, the symbiote becomes an ever-shifting insectoid-tentacle-snake-monstrosity, driven by an animalistic hunger. It’s many things, but it’s never humanoid.

If you absolutely must have your symbiote operating minus a host, I feel this is the way to do it: semi-feral, shapeless and completely alien (uncontrollable violence and cravings for brains to be added to taste).

Issue #2 comes to us primarily through the perspective of the mild-mannered Dr. Thaddeus Paine of the Innsmouth Hills Sanitarium (yes, really).

Yeah, he’s not fooling anyone. Meet our official villain! He joins our story after Eddie is picked up by the police and handed off to the nearest available institution, on account of how completely sane and rational he’s been acting.

Naturally, Dr. Paine soon has copious notes on Eddie’s ‘crazy’ story about his psychic link to a brain-eating alien monster. Fortunately for Eddie, Paine also runs some tests and makes an interesting discovery. 

Congratulations, Venom: the ‘vitamin’ you were missing officially has a name!

Finding the right meds isn’t always this easy. I got lucky – the first ones my psych put me on worked pretty well – but I have plenty of friends who weren't so lucky. In fact, the treatment for Eddie's problems is so straightforward it arguably has more in common with, say, endocrine disorders like thyroid conditions or Addison’s disease, which differ from clinical depression but present many similar symptoms (but can sadly be just as much of a bitch to get correctly diagnosed – please do read author Maggie Stiefvater’s account of the latter when you get the chance, because forget Venom, that is a horror story).

‘True’ depression remains much less well understood by medicine, either in its causes or how to effectively treat it. But simply having a name for what was wrong with me made so much difference, and that’s an experience I imagine anyone who’s dealt with any long undiagnosed medical condition could relate to. It put my life in context in a way nothing else had in years.

(I can’t speak to the accuracy of the way phenethylamine is portrayed in this comic – a quick google suggests there may be some real debate that phenethylamine deficiencies have been overlooked as a contributor to clinical depression, but having no medical background, that one’s well beyond me. Either way, scientific accuracy really doesn’t matter in this context – it’s how it works in-universe for story purposes that we should pay attention to.)

Since this issue is mostly from Paine’s POV, we don’t get Eddie’s reaction to having a healthy amount of phenethylamine sloshing around in his brain again, just the assurance that treatment appears to be ‘completely successful’.

He’s still a paranoid, hostile bastard though. Meds can turn your life around, but they won’t make you not you.

But even if Eddie’s feeling better, he’s still psychically linked to someone who isn’t. Symbiote-vision still comes through drained of colour and edged in viscera.

That’s the thing about meds: they won’t solve all your problems overnight. If you’ve been depressed for a while, there are good odds you have problems stacking up. But working meds can be a godsend when it comes to getting you into a space where you can deal with your problems again, whether said problems are doing-your-laundry or all the way into not-giving-up-completely-and-just-accepting-you’ll-die-alone-on-the-street.

For Eddie, ‘dealing with his problems’ begins with stealing a keycard and busting out of the asylum.

Of course, that’s the easy part. How do you solve a problem like a feral symbiote? Like any good 90′s comic book protagonist, Eddie tackles it by putting on his big-boy camouflage pants and kitting himself out with weapons and pouches while quoting “If you live something, set it free. If it doesn’t come back, hunt it down.”

We can add this to the list of things I love about this comic. Even if The Hunger is a weirdly-stylistic tract about depression at heart, it’s also still a goddamn 90′s Venom comic, and not ashamed to be.

We’re into issue #3 now, and back to hearing the story from Eddie’s POV.

Eddie is very much aware that his symbiote has murdered innocent people while they’ve been separated. Even if this is the result of extreme circumstances, there’s a good case to be made that the symbiote is too dangerous to be allowed to live. Plenty of heroes would treat it like a rabid dog at this point.

But Eddie isn’t a hero, he’s a mess of a character and an anti-hero at best, so we don’t have to hold him to the same standard. He’s well aware his symbiote may be too far gone to save, that he may have to put it down – but that’s only his backup plan. He wants to help it. He wants it back. He’s down in that sewer with screamers and a flamethrower because he knows all his symbiote’s weaknesses, but he’s also carrying a large jar of black-market synthesised phenethylamine, because if he can just get close enough...

Depression can’t make you a literal monster, but it can make you an asshole. Miserable to be around, lacking even the energy to care who else you’re hurting. The depression doesn’t excuse that, but it makes everything harder, and it’s that much easier to sink back into your spiral when everyone around you has given up. It can make you think everyone around has given up even if that isn’t true.

So to have Eddie here say, in effect, I don’t care how many people you’ve eaten, I know it wasn’t your fault. I still love you. You’re still worth fighting for – god, does that get me right in the id.

There’s still a whole issue left at this point – we’ve still got to deal with our real villain, Dr. Paine, who we’ve just learned is into eating brains himself and torturing his patients recreationally, and who wants to capture the symbiote for his own purposes. There’s the scene where Eddie and his symbiote finally bond again, and Venom beats up all Paine’s goons while singing David Bowie because like I said, this is still a 90′s superhero comic and this is what Venom does.

But for our purposes, I'm going to skip to the penultimate page of the story, because the way it mirrors our opening page is really lovely.

Remember that shot of Eddie dealing with a beggar back at the beginning of the story, thinking about how these people would 'get their despair all over you'? Here he is again, cheerfully forking over the last dollar in his pocket to the next man to ask him for change. For all the gothic atmosphere and gore, it’s moments like this that make The Hunger easily one of the most positive, uplifting Venom stories ever written. Funny, that. (I could probably write a whole other essay on sympathy for the homeless as a recurring motif in Venom stories, but that... well, whole other essay and all that.)

What’s Eddie learned from this experience? Don’t take your symbiote for granted. Is ‘symbiote’ a metaphor for mental health here, is paying attention to its needs an allegory for paying attention to your own? I still don’t know how literally Kaminski meant us to take this, but it’s a lovely note to end on no matter how you parse it.

At the end of the day, The Hunger isn’t flawless. The conflict with Paine ends on a thematic but slightly unsatisfying note. Eddie makes much of his symbiote's loneliness and desire for union, but when the two of them are finally reunited, the only reaction comes from Eddie's side. In fact, the symbiote seems to have no response to being able to return to Eddie at all, and that’s an omission that bugs me.

But Kaminski is more interested than any other writer of the era in the truly alien nature of the symbiote, in its relationship with Eddie from Eddie’s side, and though plenty of others talk about the symbiote's love/hate relationship with Spider-man, no-one else had the guts to portray their relationship this much like a romance.

And Venom: The Hunger is no less interesting in the context of Len Kaminski’s other work. You don't have to look far into his Marvel and DC credits to pick up that the guy has a real thing for monsters. (“All of my favourite characters are outlaws, misfits, anti-heroes,” he says, in one of the very few interviews I could find with him, “I wouldn't know what to do with Superman.”) He's written for vampires, werewolves, victims of mad science, and all of three at once, littering his work with biochemistry-themed technobabble, melodramatic monologues, gratuitous pop-culture references, and protagonists who must learn to embrace their inner demons. So The Hunger represents more than a few of his favourite running themes.

For our context, his more notable other work includes Children of the Beast, in which a werewolf must make peace between his human and animalistic sides, and The Creeper, in which a journalist must make peace with the crazy super-powered alter-ego sharing his body. In fact, The Creeper and The Hunger share so much DNA (including an evil doctor posing as a respected psychiatrist who uses hypnosis on our hero while he's trapped in a mental institution) that it’s quite the achievement that they still feel like such very distinct entities beyond that point.

The human alter-egos of both werewolf and Creeper even use prescription meds while wrestling with their respective dark sides. The difference, in both cases, is that these are stories where meds play their traditional fictional role – and that's a role that could be as easily filled by illegal drugs or alcohol without making any substantive difference. You see, if a protagonist is using them, it's a sign of unwillingness to tackle their 'real' problems. Even among work by the same author in the same genre, The Hunger represents an outlier. And that's just a little disappointing – at least to me.

In real life, of course, prescription meds are no magical cure-all elixir. Depression meds that work for one person may not work for another, or may not keep working in the longer term. Everyone has heard stories about quack doctors who prescribe them to the wrong patients for the wrong reasons, about lives ruined by addictions to prescription painkillers, or the supposedly-damning statistics about how poorly SSRI's perform in rigorous clinical trials. The proper way to treat depression is obviously with lifestyle and therapy. People will still airily dismiss medications that we all know previous generations got along just fine without, or suggest that figures like Van Gogh would never have created great art if they hadn't been mad enough to slice off an ear. I mean, the fact you think you need those bogus mediations is probably the best possible sign of just how broken you are, right? Who do you think you’re kidding?

Our popular fiction loves stories about manly men who bury their trauma under a gruff, anti-social exterior and come back swinging at the world that broke them, bravely refusing even painkillers that might dull their manly reflexes. Other genres make space for broken people confronting their demons in grand moments of catharsis, finally breaking down into tears when someone gets through to make them face their problems. "I could barely make it out of bed in the mornings until I found a doctor who started me on this new prescription" is not only wildly counter to the accepted social narrative, it's a hard thing to know how to dramatise.

 Even other Venom comics have been guilty of this.

Believe me, I recognise all of this, and just how much progress we've made in the last few decades. But I haven't the slightest doubt that for so many vulnerable people, the stigma against prescription medications does infinitely more harm than those same meds could ever do. And just having the right to externalise my problems into it's not you, it's your brain chemistry, may have helped me more than the meds themselves.

(And again, no, being prescribed SSRI's didn't fix me overnight, but I honestly don't know if all the talk therapy and tearful conversations with family members in the world could've got me as far as I've come without them.)

I love Venom: The Hunger. It's no-one's idea of high art, but it doesn’t need to be. There is a whole other post’s worth of things I love about it that I’ve already cut out this one as pointless tangents, and that may actually be it’s biggest drawback as a go-to example: I fully recognise that I would not be making this post if The Hunger hadn't also also grabbed me as a great bit of Venom canon, being the massive fan and shipper that I am. Other people who are just as desperate as me for more stories with the same core theme, but not into weird 90's comics about needy goo aliens, probably won't get nearly as much out of it as I have.

But if it sounds anything like your jam, maybe you'll enjoy it as much as I did.

If nothing else, it proves that you can make a viscerally satisfying story out of a message that shockingly unconventional. And you may even have people still discovering it and falling in love with it 25 years after the fact.

[bffsoobin]

yeonjun x reader

requested by: @yeonjuncore (made this hurt extra special for you 😌)

tw//this is angsty!! cheating, swearing, mentions of sexual acts (no actual smut), etc!

⇒ twelve: “Don’t touch me. Your skin is poison.” 

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•

A nearby car rumbled down the street, severing the delicate silence you had cultivated within your apartment. As it revved up the hill, you glanced out the window lethargically, not bothering to remove yourself from the sunken comfort of your sofa. The muted television flashed in its variance of bold colors but offered no relief from the barrage going on inside your own mind. 

You really should have known better. Should have seen the fallout coming a mile away, should have stopped fooling around with Yeonjun the first night you’d drunkenly made out in the dimly lit corner of a college bar, but you didn’t. Maybe you should have stopped it the first time he pushed his hand into your underwear while your roommate slept, or the first time you’d gone to return a set of movies he’d given you and ended up falling asleep in his bed. Instead, you’d let yourself become intoxicated by him and shatter the only friendship you’d ever cherished. It’d now been a week since your best friend and roommate had officially moved out, but the confrontation still bounced around your conscience like an annoyingly catchy pop song. 

“I can’t fucking believe you!” She had seethed, storming through the apartment with fervor. “All this time, you’ve been fucking around with Yeonjun behind my back? I love him!” Tears had tracked down your face, unable to come up with any other response. You’d already tried apologizing even though you knew it was a lost cause. Helplessly, you watched her gather up as many of her belongings as she could find in one swoop. Her footsteps rattled the photos on the wall and side tables, shaking your bones in sync. 

“Why did you do this to me?” The question hung above you like an interrogation light, burning into your eyes as she finally looked at you for the first time in days. 

“I...I don’t know,” you had muttered, offering the shaky words with a tearful glance. Your best friend’s face, normally soft and round and full of love, stood stoic and sharp- completely unforgiving. You couldn’t blame her. 

“Please,” she breathed, looking down at the ground as if to contain herself. You could see her lips shaking with the force of keeping in her sobs. “N-never speak to me again. And if that fucker comes here, tell him to lose my number. I trust you’ll get him the message once you’re done having his dick down your throat.” She shoved past you, rolling a suitcase she’d used on many joint vacations behind her on the wooden floors. Every thump of the wheel over a panel made you flinch. Once she had reached the door, she glanced at the table where you’d set down your keys every day after work. Upon the table was a simple photo of the two of you, cozied up at your high school graduation. She grasped the simple wooden frame between her fingers staring down at the photo with a wry smile on her lips. For a moment, you thought she would take the picture with her. The thought made you dizzy, a naïve part of your heart hoping that she would take it as a token of possible redemption for the years-long bond. 

“Hey, Y/N?” Her voice was nasally from the crying, but still so familiar that despite the situation, you looked up at her earnestly. “Fuck you.” The photo dropped the the floor, bouncing off the floor with a harsh thud you were sure the neighbors downstairs heard loud and clear. You both stared at it, the plain backing facing the ceiling. In a millisecond, she slammed the heel of her sneaker into the back of the photo, shattering the delicate glass covering underneath the force. She had disappeared out the door not a second later.

The picture still laid in its exact same spot, face down next to the door that hadn’t been opened since she walked out. A few shards of glass had scattered dangerously into the living room, but you knew how to step over them all by now. In fact, nothing had really been touched since she left. The drawers in the kitchen and living room were still hanging wide open, gaping with the evidence of all the things she had taken away with her. You were living off of lukewarm hot pockets and bottled water, supplemented with the swigs of red wine you’d been saving for a party that will never happen. Sleeping in your room was no longer in the cards, as you would have to pass by the painfully empty room that she used to inhabit in neutral tones with splashes of color in the decor- a dichotomy that you never hesitated to tease her for. Your phone laid out of reach, cold and dead and nothing but a weight in your hand when you did pick it up. 

Everything was half-full, missing a piece that you hadn’t lived without for years.

A loud succession of knocks threw you out of your stupor, bringing your thoughts to a halting stop they hadn’t in days. You had no idea who was bothering you, as the sweet older neighbor who was collecting your mail knew to simply leave it outside for you to grab at the wee hours of the night. 

‘Who is it?” Foolishly, your heart raced with the hope that she had come back to allow you to patch things up. 

“Jesus,” a familiar voice scoffed. “It’s me, Y/N.” Yeonjun. You imagined him posted on the other side of the door, one arm leaning him against the sturdy frame while the other knocked at the door. Glossy black hair falling into his eyes as he tried to catch a glimpse of you through the peephole. Slowly, you shuffled over to the door, skillfully avoiding a stray piece of glass, and unlocked the deadbolt. Yeonjun sighed in relief and mumbled something under his breath that you didn’t quite catch. The door was only open about a foot before he was pushing himself inside, wrapping both muscular arms around your shoulders. He buried his pointed nose into your neck, and the usually affectionate gesture made your stomach twist. 

“God, don’t you ever answer your phone? I’ve been trying to reach you for days.” He held you at an arm’s length, frowning at your obviously unwashed hair and stained clothing. 

“It’s off.” 

“It’s off? Why the hell is it off? Someone might need you- shit, is that glass?” Yeonjun’s eyes widened at the shards you’d come to coexist with, dropping his hands from your arms to squat and examine the pieces further. Exhausted already, you plopped back into your couch indent with a sigh. 

“Why are you here?” 

“Because I was worried about you,” his eyes softened as he set down the few pieces of glass he’d recovered. His warm hands cradled your knees, the touch burning through the fabric of your sweats. “Because I knew that once she left, you’d be a mess. Because I know you aren’t taking care of yourself. Because-” he plopped himself down on the couch next to you, leaving no room between the two of you. A careful hand lifted, pushing strands of your greasy hair behind your ear with a delicacy you craved. “Because I love you.” 

Your stomach lurched. Yeonjun loves you. Part of you knew that. You love him too. Or maybe you used to. Now the thought of him caused a tsunami of emotion, mixing the best moments of your life with the single worst. You loved each other, but what had it cost you? 

“Yeonjun, I- I don’t,” your voice shattered, pricking even your own eardrums as your chest heaved with a cry you’d repressed for a while. For as long as you’d been grieving the loss of your best friend, you’d never cried over the Yeonjun of it all. Deep down, you knew you’d always had real feelings for him. 

The first time your best friend introduced you to him, you felt the kind of magic that you thought only existed in movies. As the good best friend you once were, you tried to keep your distance and let your feelings simmer down. And then the night your friend fell sick even though the three of you had plans came around, and at her insistence, you and Yeonjun went together. In the dark, pulsing club you were hypnotized by how well he moved his hips and made an off-brand joke about wanting to feel them against yours. By the end of the night you were littered with hickeys and walking with a limp you had to play off for two days. 

And for a while, you thought that was really all you’d be- drunk fumbles and hookups shrouded in mystery and shame- and then he’d taken you on a full fledged date. Pizza, beer, a slightly tipsy visit to an arcade; the whole nine yards of charming, and with no sex attached. That’s when you knew you craved more than just the feeling of his skin against yours. You had come to crave the experience of Yeonjun, the way he spoke and laughed and checked up on you after your hardest days at work. 

Now, he cooed, cradling you to his broad chest with a reassuring hand on the back of your neck. The feeling of his skin made you repulsed, accumulating all of the times he’d laid a hand on you to work against your friend. All the times you’d let him touch you, knowing the likely consequences. You shrunk away from him, putting as much distance between the two of you as the couch would allow. 

“Please don’t touch me,” you pleaded, hands shaking. He scrunched his aggravatingly perfect brows as you crossed your arms over yourself. 

“Y/N, what do you mean? Are you hurt, is there something I can-” 

“Stop, please,” you sigh, eyes wandering to the worn fluffy socks adorning your feet. There was an annoying thread that had been rubbing between your toes all day, and you could see it peeking out just enough now that you could try to pull it and maybe you would feel a little bit less uncomfortable in your own skin-

“Y/N?” Yeonjun ventured, trying to wade through whatever emotion you were presenting to him at the moment.

“Just please don’t touch me, Yeonjun. Your skin is poison. It’s poison and I got a taste of it and it fucked up the single best friendship I’d ever had. Your stupid fucking touch,” you hissed, watching him physically recoil. “It’s everything I have ever wanted, and I crave it all the fucking time. And you got me so addicted with all of our little secret touches that I didn’t realize the havoc they would bring into the world where you weren’t touching me because, fuck, I don’t know. I helped you cheat on my best friend? And for a while I didn’t feel bad about it, I was just too god damn busy thinking about your hands, and your mouth, and all of the touches. So please stop touching me.” 

Stunned, Yeonjun sat the stillest you’d ever seen him on your couch. You were broken, and he had done the damage. While part of him wanted to blame it all on you, he knew that he’d ultimately been the one to stick his hands in your normal life and, well, poision it. 

“I’m sorry.” His hand hovered awkwardly just inches away from you, longing to console you. 

“‘Sokay. Just...leave? I’ll shoot you a text when I’m back up and running.” 

With great hesitation, Yeonjun slid off the couch. His hands were stuffed in his pockets as he hovered, waiting to see if you had anything else in you. If you had been able to muster the courage, you would have seen the tears rolling down his full cheeks. 

With one hand on the door, Yeonjun finally spotted the photo from which the glass shards had come, and he picked it up warily. The last of the pieces scattered on the flooring, and he resisted the urge to clean them up. He knew that you’d get to it eventually. He steadied the frame back on the table and cleared his throat in lieu of a painful goodbye. The knob twisted noisily under his hand as he tried not to look back on your beat-down form. 

“Yeonjun,” your voice waivered but kept him silent enough to hear a pin drop. “In case you were wondering- I love you too.” 

[btssmutficslovingfan01]

Friendly Encounters- Chapter Eight

𝒮𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎: A friend challenges you to go out of your comfort zone and talk to one of the cute boys at the café. However, after attempting to flirt with one of them, they reveal that they are in a relationship with each other. It’s fine, though, because you’re all friends now!

𝒢𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒: Romance

𝑅𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔: Smut, Angst

𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: Racism, Yoongi and Jimin are angels, Graphic depictions of sex, really angsty

𝒲𝑜𝓇𝒹𝓈: 4.9k

𝒫𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔: Jimin x Reader x Yoongi

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                         ______________________

“I’m gonna cum, I’m close!” Yoongi’s entire body shakes and shudders underneath you as you voraciously fuck him with all your strength. You aren’t going easy on him at all, using the lube and your hands to simultaneously jerk him off as well. The sounds he makes are delicious, absolutely delightful as your mouth waters at his small, high-pitched whines. Thank God you have pillows, but unfortunately you still had to keep the noise level to a minimum.

As Yoongi cries under you and shudders once more, you lower yourself slowly, spreading his cheeks with your hands. You both were sweaty, horny, and so very exhausted. Yet with the feeling of your strap applying pressure to Yoongi’s boy-pussy, he knows that he doesn’t want it to end so soon. Him and Jimin had spent hours together, playing in bed. Why couldn’t you have the same? Even if you had sex in the cabin and you spent a lot of time together anyways.

There was always something lacking, and that was the sexual intimacy between you and Yoongi. You knew it was a matter of time before you found a dynamic that worked for you.

“Go ahead, baby. Cum on my fingers, I want you to feel good too.” You start acting like you have a dick too, as Yoongi moans loudly into the pillow once more, his release building up as you shift again, your pussy drenched completely from seeing him all vulnerable like this.

“I want you to cum too,” He’s puddy in your hands, as you stroke his arms and press the softest kisses to his shoulders. “Cum with me kit-AH Y/N!” He’s writhing in pleasure as you pump his cock between your hands, and with him hunched over on the bed it makes it even easier for you to lean forward and brush your dildo across his throbbing hole. Despite removing it earlier, his puckered hole is still wide, and so ready for penetration.

You tested him first with a finger before taking your vibrator and bringing it down to the base of his cock.

“Damn, I think you’d cum right now if you saw your ass. So fucking perfect, round and squishy. No wonder Jimin moans so much with you.” You both groan as you decide to stop playing around and actually fuck him again, this time, tightening your belt before rolling your hips against his soft cheeks.

“You’re so sexy, and wonderful. I love you, Y/N.” You softly kiss his lips before pulling out and surrendering to sleep. You need a lot of rest, after that intense workout.

“Love you too, Yoongles. Also, Jimmy’s gonna kill us tomorrow but that’s fine because you looked so hot submissive like that and I had fun. I never thought a fake cock could make me feel so powerful.” His giggles are like music to your ears. You were starting to get used to the sound.

“Yeah, that’s exactly why I play dom most of the time. It’s a hell of a lot more fun when I get to play with you two and I get to use my cock as death.” It’s your turn to laugh, as he makes it sound like a weapon or power move of some sort.

“I hope you aren’t in too much pain, I got a little carried away.” You sigh, rubbing your thighs together anxiously.

“What? Nah, I’m fine. Maybe I’ll be a little sore tomorrow, but I think I’ll be able to sit. Let’s just say, if I can’t sit, it’ll be considered a win for you.” Your blond boyfriend gives you a wink as you reply with an, “Okay, I’ll take that. As long as we get to do this again, and maybe I can even fuck you in the tub!” Yoongi cringes at your words.

“Let’s not get too ambitious. On three let’s say it together, 1,2,3: Let’s not get too ambitious.” You both giggle the rest of the night away, concentrating more on each other than cleaning up your mess made of dildos, lube, and straps. You were too lazy to get out of bed, and Yoongi was keeping you busy, so you didn’t really have a reason to, other than cleaning up.

“Oh, aren’t you guys going back to work tomorrow?” You ask, as Yoongi pulls you in for a tight hug.

“Sweetie, we used up pretty much all of our vacation days with you. It doesn’t mean we won’t ever get time off from work again, but officially, we’re back on full-time duty.” You had forgotten how much older your boyfriends had been than you. You were so close with them that the age difference slipped your mind.

It wasn’t like they were in their mid-thirties, you could understand their problems, since they had no other way of making money. Plus, they were dating their landlord’s daughter, they didn’t want to feel indebted because of you.

As easy as they make the relationship seem, you still feel uncertain at times. Actions speak louder than words, you were thinking of doing a large gesture for them. Something to let your boyfriends know you appreciate them.

“I know you like working at the café, but wouldn’t you like to be a music producer, Yoongi?” Your boyfriend wraps a towel around you before throwing his boxers back on and checking if the hallway is clear first before pulling you towards the bathroom.

“I already sold one of my songs. It gave me quite a bit of money, so I think I’ll keep doing it.” Your heart fell at that statement. You were really hoping your boyfriend was making his own profits from releasing his own albums on spotify, but it seems that he did the opposite, not even getting credit for his own tracks.

“That’s not right. Those people won’t even credit you, now that you sold the rights of that song to some heavily produced company. It’s like some crappy teen drama, where everything is forced instead of being introduced and built on. You can’t just sell your music and expect it to resonate with them.”

“Slow down, I don’t recall telling you who I sold the music to. Don’t jump to conclusions without learning all the facts first.” Yoongi snaps at you before folding his arms together, as you check the water in the shower to make sure it’s warm enough for you to step in.

This wasn’t your first time showering together, you already had that experience back in the mountains, during your first and only romantic getaway with your boyfriends. You felt comfortable being naked in his presence now, enough to trust him to retain a little bit of self-control when he’s in the same position.

“Fine, I see your point. Who did you sell your music to?” You turn around, making sure your hair gets wet too. Yoongi had some shower gel in his hands so he was currently lathering your arms and shoulders. He was saving your more sensitive areas for last, since he saw your nipples harden when you stepped into the water.

“J-Hope. I actually made the beats for Outro: Ego.” Your eyes widened at this new bit of information. Yoongi never bragged about it, or bought it up. Even that time you were actually at that concert, listening to that same song. How did he fail to let you in on something so important? Did he think that telling you was a waste of time?

“Yoongi, that’s amazing. Why didn’t you tell me? I would have supported you regardless.” He sighs, looking elsewhere to take his mind off his thoughts of work. Music was a hobby of his, one that he was good at. He just wanted to make a profit without worrying you. 

He knew if he told you about the side projects he was working on, you would get very worried and then go way over your head before having the entire thing explode in your face. You weren’t the most graceful girl in the world, you were clumsy and that’s why Yoongi fell for you.

Your “I can do it,” attitude had its setbacks, as you often got too serious about simple things and overcomplicated in your head, he knew you were currently doing just that. Your perseverance was admirable, though.

“I’m gonna tell you this just once, kitten. You might have not noticed it but you have a bad habit of meddling, and when you do that, it makes trouble for others. Please understand that I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to stick your head in it. It’s my music, and I know what I want to do with it.”

You weren’t offended. Your first thoughts were, ‘Oh, he’s telling me to drop the subject. I can do that,’ but as time progressed, you found yourself growing anxious. You knew Yoongi deeply cared for his songs, and the little free time he spent with you was taking away from his hobby. You wanted him to focus on his career, and become a better artist.

So, you decided to get Yoongi a whole setup using your birthday money. You were saving up to buy something big, but it seems that Yoongi needs your help more than ever.

You go to amazon, adding foam panels and lots of tech equipment to your cart. You spent exactly $228 after everything and you still had about $300 remaining in your birthday cash. You got $500 from your Grandma.

You yawn before crawling into bed for some sleep. Since you spent your day focused on Yoongi, you failed to remember that you hadn’t seen one of your boyfriends the entire day.

                ༻• Thursday, At School •༺

School took a toll on your mental health. You needed a break, even though you just started. The public education system was seriously messed up, making you work double of what you had to do over break. The only thing that made it bearable was your group chat with your boyfriends.

You lock your phone, uneasiness washing over you like an ocean wave. You wish you could go to the beach. Spring seemed neverending and all you could think of was fucking your boyfriends like a bunny in heat.

School passes by slowly, and just as you’re on your way to the café, Jaehyun stops you.

“Jae, hey what’s up?” He looks bruised and battered. You can tell something is horribly wrong.

“The cops arrested my buddies, it was horrible. If you know me, you know I’m not a bad kid. Those guys weren’t either, they were just chilling in my living room, vaping, when a cop busted my door down and arrested like six of my friends. They were all 14, 15, and 16. Not even legal adults, what the fuck is wrong with the justice system?”

“Do you know where they are?” You don’t ask many questions, immediately getting your phone out to text your boyfriends and mom about the situation, since they all knew your daily schedule. Jaehyun was an old friend of yours, too, you couldn’t just leave him.

“They were taken down to the local police station on 95th street. Oh, it was terrible Y/N. They beat me up and I was actually just asking them what my friends did wrong. After that, my parents kicked me out for good. So now I’m homeless.”

“I thought you said you moved out a long time ago?” You help lower him to sit on a bench so he can calm down.

“I-I did, but then those guys were dealing drugs. I didn’t want to be friends with them anymore. So I moved back home.” He starts crying, tears flowing down his cheeks. You had never seen Jaehyun so sensitive in such a long time, that was probably because you made the wrong assumptions about him. 

“Alright, I’ve texted my mom and two other roommates of mine to let them know the situation. Yoongi and Jimin should be here any minute.” You continue comforting your crying friend as your boyfriends pull up to you and Jaehyun. You help him into the car as Jaehyun looks at Jimin with confusion written all over his face.

“Hey, aren’t you the pervert who tried coming onto my girlfriend?” Yoongi mistakes him for Jungkook, as he gets a bad view of him from the front seat.

“No...and what do you mean your girlfriend? You’re dating that guy, right?” He points at Jimin, confusion apparent on his face.

“We’ll explain later. For now, just tell them what you told me. Jimin, full speed ahead to the police station on 95th street.” 

You arrive at the local police station in ten minutes, despite the traffic being horrid. Jimin stepped on the pedal and managed to reach where you needed to go.

“Officer, where are the three young men you arrested from his house?” Yoongi asks, as soon as you reach the police station.

“Oh, those thugs? Yeah, they vandalized private property so we had to jail em. Bail is $200. You can go see ‘em over there.” Jaehyun runs ahead of you to the temporary holding cell in the back of the room.

“Oh my god, guys. Thank goodness you’re okay. I hope they didn’t beat you up too bad?” A tall dark male with some visible tattoos and jet black hair stands up, putting his hand through the cell to hold his friend’s fingers through the bars. You could tell from the grim expression in his eyes that he was used to this. The horrible treatment from the authorities because they assume they’re bad guys. It’s no coincidence that they’re targets because of their dark skin color. Fuck racists, these guys deserve better.

“Nah, we’re fine. We’ve been through worse, right boys?” 

“But still, this is wrong. It’s illegal! They can’t just-”

“Move aside. We’re setting you free, since your brother who’s a district attorney has connections. Just don’t repeat it, okay?” The boys don’t even make a sound as the police officer lets them out of their holding cell and they walk out with their hands behind their heads.

“Are you really used to it? Getting arrested just because some cop thinks you’re dealing drugs or something?” Yoongi’s curiosity gets the best of him, as he asks the boy who spoke to Jaehyun earlier.

“Yep. It happens all the time. Like Marc here was playing basketball out in the driveway once when he was 10 and before we knew it this cop had him pinned down on the ground with his hands over his head. He said the ball looked like a weapon and gave a half-assed apology to us after our neighbor who saw the commotion came outside and told the cop to let go of him. It was really awful, but he got tougher from the experience.” 

You couldn’t imagine a young boy at the age of ten going through something so dramatic and traumatizing in a quaint little town. Even now, the boy standing before you was just a teenager. He had torn jeans and a stylish leather jacket, but you could tell he was a little younger than the rest of the boys in the group.

“That shit ain’t right.” Jimin shakes his head as another boy smacks his arm in agreement.

“You can say that again. We’ve been through some things but it’s not mentally scarring or anything. You can’t beat those racists, huh?!” You bite your lip. You hated bringing up the topic of racism because it is the root of all evil. You hated how parents taught it to their children and it became engraved in humans. Skin color doesn’t determine a person’s worth.

“I guess you’re right. I was the only asian kid in my class in the fifth grade. No one else in that town had a fleck of gold on their skin, they were all pasty white kids. I didn’t know it at the time, but apparently their parents fed them lies and I was never invited to pool parties because they thought my skin was “dirty.” Racism starts at home, man. It doesn’t just appear out of thin air.”

That was the first time you’ve ever heard your boyfriend recite a story from his past so passionately. You had no idea Jimin experienced such shit, especially after going through everything with Jaehyun and his buddies. You’ve never seen high school students look so calm even in the presence of police officers. It’s obviously because they knew they were innocent from the get-go.

“Well, this is where we part ways. I gotta take this uber to my house, catch you later!” You wave as the guy named Marc hops into a taxi and disappears off into the freeway.

“What about you?” Jaehyun gives his friend a puppy-eyed stare as you can tell he wants him to go with him. 

“I’ve gotta go too, bud. It was nice seeing all of you, thanks again for driving down to the station even though we didn’t need your help.”

“Wait!” You stop him before he can get in the waiting taxi. “What’s your name? I’m Y/N, an old friend of Jaehyun’s.” He gives you a small smile before winking at you.

“I’m Duval. Nice to meet you.” 

                                   ༻• Thursday, At Home •༺

You were back to freaking about your graduation again. Your entire life in school was a waste since you were single, you never hung out with friends, and you spent all your free time doing homework. You wish you could go back and rewind time but you would gladly go through it all again if it means you could meet Jimin and Yoongi again.

You’re so in love with them that you might just marry them. You were at least hoping you could have a commitment ceremony so that you didn’t have to worry about being legally bound to one man when you could be equally committed to both. The problem is, your wallet is more empty than your belly when you aren’t shoving food down your throat.

You dedicated all your time to school that you forgot about the outside world. And now you want to spend it on your boyfriends. Ah, when will the pain end? You needed to start working fast before anything else. There was only two weeks left till your graduation, and your anniversary with the boys was coming up as well.

The very much less anticipated arrival of your father was approaching as well, and you were trying to figure out a way to tell him that you were in love with two boys who you also thought of so fondly that you were ready to give your life to them in exchange of a future of happiness and the fact that you weren’t keen on dating or marrying any of the men your father picked out with wealthy backgrounds.

“Babe, will you stop pacing? It’s making me dizzy.” Jimin sinks in your swivel chair as you walk back and forth in the little space between your bed and the table. Thanks to Jimin’s comment, you were even more antsy, biting your nails out of habit until Yoongi bursts into your room with good news.

“Hoseok said he had a singer friend who heard one of my songs and he loved it!”

“That’s great news, now why don’t you come sit and talk to us so we can get our kitten’s mind off school?” You grimace at Jimin’s attempt to switch topics so nonchalantly as Yoongi excitedly makes his way towards you, cornering you into your own bed as he informs you of his day’s events.

“He said he wants me to go over and play a demo for another song since he’s gonna be in town for a couple more days. Hobi said he got lucky because the guy happened to be in town for his own concert and he was on tour so he would only be here until Sunday evening. It’s a three-day concert.” 

This was great! All the pieces were in place and now all that was left to do was wait for Yoongi’s little surprise to arrive. You were keeping an eye on the online package, since you ordered quite a few items.

“Great, so I’m guessing you’re gonna head on over there after work tomorrow?” You ask, unaware of their current situation.

“Actually, since we took all our time off during your spring break, Jin decided to be extra mean and make us work a double shift on Friday. There’s no way I’d be able to leave in between, even if Jimin covers for me. That’s the only day we can meet, since he planned this on such short notice too.” You stand up, banging the palm of your hand flat against the soft cushion on the swivel chair, Jimin’s head just inches away from your arm.

“I’ll do it!” Your boyfriends stare at you as if you’ve grown a second head.

“No, are you crazy?”

“My grades are fine, plus this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for you. You should go, Yoongi. I’ll take your place in work. How long is a double shift anyways?” You want to so desperately express your love for your neglected boyfriend that you’re willing to go through such lengths. That, and you’d be killing two birds with one stone since you could also spend more time with Jimin. Work is work but mixing a little love won’t hurt anyone.

“If you’re sure. A double shift is 14 hours. You’d have to work 6 hours after school, you think you can handle that?” Right on cue, you get a text from your mom. She’s doing the night shift so she probably wouldn’t notice your absence. You’re a good daughter, though, so you text her to make sure she knows what your plan is. She knew about the little setup you were planning for Yoongi, and she supported you in virtually everything you did. Except for your sex life, she definitely had no clue that you had actually gone further than second base, that’s for sure.

“Yeah. I’ll be fine. Plus, I’ll have you too.” Jimin gives you an endearing smile before pulling you down to his lap. You snuggle into his warm chest, breathing in his sweet scent. You loved your boyfriend with all your heart. The mochi hits differently.

“I’m just gonna...go back to my room.” Yoongi awkwardly makes an exit as Jimin continues nuzzling your neck affectionately. You couldn’t help but feeling a bit guilty, since your other boyfriend seemed a bit troubled and you were sitting here, fooling around with Jimin like some teenage slut.

“He’s more awkward than usual today, you wanna go ask him what’s wrong?” He seems to already know what you’re thinking, as you shift around in his lap and you stay silent for an abnormally long time.

“Normally, I would just give him space but he seems to have a lot on his mind. I hope he isn’t too stressed. The opportunity presented itself and I feel like I forced him to do it.”

“No, baby, what are you saying? Yoongi never does something because someone told him to. He really wanted that deal, you know how long he’s been producing as a hobby? So many people have taken advantage of him in the past but this is the real deal.” You didn’t want to ask Jimin to elaborate, as he shifts in his seat and you feel his body heat rising. He’s sweating as well, so you decide to climb off his lap and onto the bed once again, sitting with your legs and arms crossed when you do.

“I know, that’s why I told him I’d work his shift. He can go visit this producer guy on Saturday and blow the hats off those guys while I flaunt my temporary barista skills.” 

“Honey, if you think I’m letting you anywhere near a coffee machine, you’re dead wrong.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Yours and Jimin’s playful banter carries throughout the walls and onto the next room, where Yoongi hears every little exchange between the two of you. To be honest, he’s never felt more insignificant in his life than he does now. With his partners laughing and having fun without him...he felt so self-conscious.

He loved you and Jimin dearly, but sometimes his self-doubts would get in the way of his love for you. He couldn’t trust you because he couldn't completely believe himself. He knew he was in love with Jimin fully, but was he really in love with you? He remembers that very first day when you walked into the coffee shop and openly flirted with his boyfriend. That “friendly” exchange led to something more, something unexpected. 

He never thought he would be the one to initiate the first sexual encounter, but it seemed his fingers had a mind of their own. He developed a little crush on you shortly after you became friends with Jimin, but then his body betrayed him once again when he found out you were living in the same house as him.

He jerked off to the thought of you every day after that, to be honest. He felt dirty, but it felt right. He started getting confused only after you all started dating. You and Jimin were closer than him and Jimin, and him and you. Out of all the combinations, yours was the weakest. 

Sure, you had music in common, but did that really mean anything? Physically, you were more compatible than a glove with a hand, but emotionally, you were distant. He wanted you to follow him out of the room and climb over his back, he truthfully wanted Jimin to kiss his worries away like he always does, and when you were finished, he wanted to be the one to wake you up in the morning just in time for school. He was bad at social interactions, so any dreams of affection were just imaginative unless you took the initiative, or if you were at the right place at the right time.

“Yoongz, I know you better than I know myself. What’s going on in that handsome brain of yours?” His boyfriend is always spot-on when it comes to his emotions. Unlike Yoongi, Jimin excelled at expressing himself and interacting with the world around him. He was like Yoongi’s mouth, at some point. Yoongi had gotten arguably better at expressing himself, though, after meeting you he always put himself out there, just talking to you about whatever was bothering him directly. Of course, Jimin knew this happened only 60% of the time. It’s still a huge improvement for him, Jimin was happy either way. He knows it’s only a matter of time before Yoongi opens up to you completely. A full 100%.

“What if my love for Y/N is just an illusion and my body is addicted to her but my mind is not attracted to her?”

What the fu-

“Think about what you just said. Think about it again, long and hard, imagine her body this time.” Yoongi does exactly as Jimin instructs, feeling his worry melt away instantaneously just by thinking of you. He feels more at ease and a little bit floaty as well.

When he opens his eyes, Jimin is staring at his crotch deep in thought, probably pondering what he just said. Yoongi honestly has no clue anymore. He’s gotta be in love with you, he just knows.

“Just as I thought. You’re craving her again. Go ahead and get her, you dog.” Jimin lets out a short howl before spanking his boyfriend’s ass. Yoongi tries to protest but Jimin simply shoves him towards the direction of your room.

“She’s not some food item, you know? You can’t just say I’m “craving” someone and just walk away.” Yoongi rolls his eyes before knocking on your door.

“Oh, hey Yoongi, you want me to suck you off?” Well, that was easy.

“Really?” You stare up at your boyfriend, looking up from your phone in a bored manner.

“I finished my homework early so I think I deserve a reward, plus I’ve been craving that dick ever since I fucked you. Oh gosh, did you even mention it to Jimin? I don’t think I told him yet.”

“Tell me what?” You and Yoongi both jump back in surprise. Your blue-haired boyfriend is directly behind Yoongi, smiling at you with those half-moon eyes. You love the way Jimin’s face looks when he smiles, it’s simply adorable.

“I threw on a strap and I fucked Yoongi. I’m not joking, I really did.” Jimin’s eyes darken with lust as he stares between the two of you.

“Can you do it again and let me watch this time?” 

[anon-e-miss]

The mermech Jazz in Praxus idea sounds so interesting! I can just imagine Prowl investigating some shady mechs (for Smokescreen?) only to find Jazz in mer form and immediately set about releasing him. Cue tension between Praxus and Polyhex (and Praxus being terrible). But also (to be angsty) what if Jazz were kept prisoner as a mermech, was saved (by Prowl?)/escaped... only to then be selected to go back to Praxus to bond with a Praxan, he’d be so angry (and would so feel betrayed).

So I have a few different directions and different plots for Jazz in a fish tank. The thing I go back to is a particular scene. 

Prowl saw the creature flit through the energon as he entered Nightstalker’s personal office. The back wall, like all the walls lining the innermost rooms of the villa, was clear allowing any who looked at it a glimpse of the sprawling fish tank that held Nightstalker’s greatest treasure. His Conjunx’s pet never came close to the glass. Since he had moved into his matrimonial home, Prowl had never caught more of a glimpse of the creature, not that he had ever sought out a better look. He watched the silhouette of the mermech swim through the mechmade forest of tinkelp and coral. Though the creature had the long, alien body of a cyberfish, its upper body was unnervingly similar to a mech.

Long tentrels floated through the energon as the creature swam. Prowl watched its shadow pass. He avoided his marital berth whenever possible. Like Nightstalker’s office, the back wall was a window into the creature’s tank, the berth Nightstalker recharge in was set against it; Prowl was loath to lay in it and even more loath to allow Nightstalker to interface him on it. Though he had never seen the mermech watching, Prowl found it unnerving to think he might be.

“You must allow the detailer to see to your plating,” Nightstalker said when he finally hung up the call he had been taking and set his workstation on standby mode. “You are a reflection on me. I cannot have you looking so cheap.”

“Considering wages to the staff have been cut again, I thought economy would was warranted,” Prowl replied. Nightstalker’s optics flashed at him, Prowl did not react.

He was not afraid of his Conjunx. Prowl rested his servo over his round forge. The mermech was not the only treasure Nightstalker obsessed over. After bonding and dismissing a dozen mechs over the millennia, without an heir to show for all his troubles, Nightstalker was soon to have the heir he was so desperate for. Nightstalker may have had little use for Prowl's mouth or his processor, he had great use for his fertile, young frame. Nightstalker rose and Prowl did not recoil, but the temptation was there. Neither did he cringe when his Conjunx traced his bulging forge and grinned wickedly at Prowl. He circled Prowl, like a hellhound stalking a sheepacron. Prowl caught himself when Nightstalker pushed him against the desk he had only just abandoned.

Nightstalker soothed his servo over his aft and Prowl braced himself against the desk. As he did, as he looked up, Prowl saw large, white optics looking back at him. Nightstalker cupped Prowl’s panel and Prowl felt the urge to purge. He struggled out of his Conjunx’s grip. When he looked back at the fish tank, there was no sign of the mermech. Prowl stared into the empty energon, could it have just been a trick of his processor? Nightstalker’s servo returned between Prowl’s legs and he used the manual latch to bare Prowl’s intimate circuitry to him. His intakes were hot against Prowl’s neck as he stroked Prowl’s outer rim with narrow digits. Prowl kept his helm bow and his denta clenched. When Nightstalker pushed a digit into Prowl’s valve, the monochrome Praxian jerked his helm up and once again saw white optics staring into his.

“No,” he said, resisting Nightstalker’s lewd embrace. Nightstalker allowed Prowl to stand, but only to pull him back into his chassis. His servo squeezed Prowl’s bumper as parted Prowl’s valve rim with two digits. He displayed Prowl to his pet. “Unhand me.”

“Such a puritan,” Nightstalker teased him and continued his molestations. He released Prowl with a startled yelp as the mermech crashed against the glass, vicious denta gnashing as his webbed digits scratched against the glass. Prowl was frozen only for a moment as the creature soundlessly snarled at Nightstalker. Before his Conjunx could recover from his start, Prowl stumbled to the door and escaped his office and his lechery.

[mother-snake]

self preservation

@idkanameatall enjoy the angst!

to everyone, ask and the next story i write i shall tagg you if youd like so you dont miss out!

(sorry for this lengthy boi. Also, my cat missy says hello

Word count- 3769)

angst. very angsty and i dont know what else to put as a warning cause i wrote 90 precent of this around two weeks ago... please say if there is something im missing... :P

- janus helps the others but can they help him, thast baiscaly the plot-

The first person to get a slight feel for Janus’s intentions was Logan.

He had huddled himself into his room for a couple days, trying his best to make a schedule that he knew would just end up being forgotten by the others. his computer screen was blank. He hadn’t even started. The knowledge of the fact that it wasn’t going to be used stopping him. Why should he do this if it will just be disregarded? he knew they wouldn’t listen to him I he just asked for them to try and stick to the plan. They would only ignore and apologise. He’d forgive them and it would continue like that.

His eyes were heavy. He hadn’t felt like this in a long while. Not since Thomas was a teenager, when he was always being worked overtime.

He was fine. He was going to be okay. They would listen this time.

It was then that he sensed the other presence in his room. He didn’t need to turn to know that the deceitful side was there. It was six, he would always visit around this time every other day.

But when he looked at the time, he knew it was for another reason. It was three in the morning, and he had visited yesterday. so why was he here?

“lying to yourself I see Logan,” he let out a sigh, “get some rest, you’ve been in here for four days,” “I can’t, I need to get this done,” Logan muttered to himself as he stared at the screen. “Logan, your over worked, you’re tired. Continue this tomorrow, it will still be here when you wake up,” the scale covered side closed over the computer screen and stared at the logical side with a small smile.

It was then that Logan realised he had actually started crying.

Janus held a hand out to the other who took it thankfully. His legs shook as he tried to stand up. the bed looked enticing to him. He was hit by a wave of pure tiredness.

He didn’t remember falling asleep? he felt something giving off a small amount of heat and tucked himself closer. He heard a small chuckle. That wasn’t normal. he cracked his eyes open to be met with Janus smiling at him. Oh… he forgot about the other side.

He locked gazes with the other side for couple seconds before looking away with a small blush. “how do you feel?” Janus asked. “I… don’t feel anything” he stated. “that’s a lie, try again Logan,” “I… I feel better,” he did feel better, just a little bit drained but not as much as he did yesterday.

 Half an hour later they were downstairs in the kitchen. Logan being the earliest up wouldn’t be a surprise to the others, but Janus still lived over in the dark side. he had always wondered what it was like over there. He wondered if it looked anything like the light side’s commons. How many other dark sides where there.

For the first time as the kitchen light flickered on, he caught something familiar the other side was wearing. Several things actually.

“is that Virgil’s old hoodie?”

The back hoodie was one he wouldn’t forget. The green fabric around his neck acting like a scarf he recognised as Remus old sash. It was bizarre to see. But he didn’t mind.

“yes, he gave it to me when he changed his outfit,” Janus spoke as he grabbed two bowls from the coubard.

“so, the scarf I take it was Remus old sash?” he only got a nod in response.

The deceitful side put a bowl of chocolate pebbles in front of Logan who sat down at the table. The other side had a bowl of krispies. Oh, he hoped that roman didn’t think it was him that stole his cereal again.

The two ate in silence. Both found it quite pleasant, but for two different reasons.

One because he hated how loud the others could get, the other because he had some company, something he hadn’t had in a very long time.

By the time the others had come down the stairs, Janus had long gone knowing they wouldn’t take too well to his company. A small part of him was upset that the other wouldn’t stay longer.

Patton had been the first to arrive. He smiled as he saw Logan sitting at the table. the next two to come down were the twins. Both giving a loud hello to the others in the room. the last one up was Virgil. Upon entering the room, he could feel the slightly heightened anxiety coming from the logical side. He gave Patton a quick look. He must have sensed something too.

Logan looked round the now busy room and made his way over to the exit. He was aware that Virgil had left after him. So when he was tapped on the shoulder and turned to see the anxious side he just stared. “you okay specks?” “what do you mean Virgil?” “well… I can feel your anxiety coming off you for one and second you were staring at the door for a while,” “oh, I see. I didn’t mean to stare, just have a lot on my mind, still got the schedule to finish,” his voice ending in a whisper.

Virgil looked at the other. He rarely showed emotion, this must have been affecting him.

“well, take a break and watch a movie?” Virgil began, “ill let you pick,”

It wasn’t noticeable, but a small smile appeared on his face, “that sounds reasonable,”

If he had arrived in his room, he would have caught deceit sitting at his desk for a while with a smile on his face. He could feel the others emotions falling back into place from there.

--

The next was Patton. He had been known for stress baking. Every night instead of sleeping he would bake cookies. The unfortunate part of that today was the fact he had enough cookies to feed a small village.

He grumbled as he looked at the enormous pile of chocolate chip cookies, peanut flapjacks and muffins. A thought crossed his mind.

Thus, he picked up a tuber-ware box and began to fill it as much as possible.

When he knew he could get no more into it he proceeded to make his way somewhere he hadn’t thought he would ever go. the door to the dark side was black with one panel of yellow glass, but it was to blurry to see anything on the inside. He could hear however what sounded like a movie playing.

He gave the door a quick knock. The noise stopped and replaced by shuffling, the door creaked open and he was met with a yellow eye. “why aren’t you here Patton?” the voice was smooth. “I brought you something, I hope you don’t mind,” he scratched the back of his head as he lifted the rather large container up a little.

The other side looked surprised before he opened the door the rest of the way and gestured the other to come inside. he gingerly made his way and was immediately hit with the smell of fresh bread and coffee. It was a welcoming smell.

“would you like some tea?” the other asked.

Not wanting to be rude he gave a small nod. “just set it down on the coffee table, I’ll be back in a minuet,”

 True to his word he came back with a cup of tea. It was also then that Patton had seen what he was wearing. A smile appeared as he saw the dark sides toothless wonzie. It made sense, he was half way through the second movie. “you like how to train your dragon,” Patton grinned “what gave it away?” he passed the tea over and opened the box of goodies pulling out a muffin.

He grabbed the blanket and pulled it over the both of them. Patton smiled at the gesture. Soon the movie was back on. as it continued, he could hear Janus mutter almost every line that played. Then when the credits came, he sang the song. the third movie was put on. He could feel the others emotions. It was mainly happy but he could feel a deep sadness. “you okay kiddo?” he whispered. “of course, just don’t like the fact it’s the final movie, knowing it’s going to end hurts I suppose, but at least I can reply the movies,” Patton pondered that for a second.

When the movie ended Janus and Patton were both in tears. But both eventually calmed themselves. “I must ask Patton, what was the real reason you’re here?” Janus asked to the other. “don’t tell the others, but I tend to bake when I can’t sleep and I made far too much today,” Patton said. he shifted his gaze away from the others inquisitive gaze. “well the, perhaps next time if you’d like, we could do this again?” Janus spoke. “would you be alright with that? I don’t want to wake you by accident,” Patton responded. “it will be perfectly fine Patton, now I suggest you head to bed and try to get some sleep,” the window behind the tv showed that sunbeams were beginning to peak over giving the room a slight yellow huge. “alright kiddo, same goes for you, you need some sleep too,”

A couple minuets later he was back in his room. He practically collapsed as he made his way to his bed. The softness of the sheets lulling him to sleep.

--

Roman was the next. he hadn’t spoken to Janus since that incident around a month ago. it was two days after then that Remus had moved his room. But the two had connected together. Remus right now was in the imagination. Leaving him sitting in the shared room.

A sigh left his lips as he looked around the room. He just didn’t know. He wanted to apologize for making fun of the others name. but he didn’t know if he was ready to face the other. Logan, Virgil and Patton were busy as of right now, so he could easily watch some Disney for now.

That is how he found himself staring in the light sides living room at a familiar figure watering the few plants that lay around the room. he stood still for a couple second. this was fine.

“I could hear that lie from over here,” he groaned, “don’t worry ill leave if you want me to,” his voice was softer than normal, his gloved hands picked away at the bottom of his lose shirt.

“its fine, actually I would like to speak to you, if you don’t mind,” roman spoke.

Janus just sighed in response and sat down on one of the armchairs. roman sat near on the sofa, not really sure where to start. “well… I suppose I should say sorry,” roman began hesitantly, “I’m sorry I made fun of your name, that wasn’t my best moment,”

Roman shifted as the other stared at him.

“you shouldn’t be the one to apologise roman,” Janus muttered,” I was the one who manipulated you, I pushed you further than I should have. I also apologise for what I said after, I know that it was a dirty move,”

The two sat there for a while. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. But they both felt slightly better. Not as good as before but still better none the less. the silence was interrupted by Remus yelling. He was coming close. “well then, best be on my way,” Janus smiled at the other weakly. “id like to talk to you later if you wouldn’t mind Janus,” roman said, “I’d like to try out some scripts?”

The deceitful side nodded, and as soon as Remus was in the room, the other side seemed to vanish.

 Later that night, they were setting up the table. Roman stared at the table. A couple seats were empty. Not enough people to fill them up. he stood still for a couple seconds too long. Logan and Patton who had been cooking and were just beginning to put the food on the table looked between each other with worried looks. “are you okay roman?” “yes, I was just wondering if we could perhaps invite our resident snake?” their shocked looks didn’t go unnoticed. “you two have talked then,” Logan stated, getting a nod in response. “very well the, go quickly,”

Roman excitedly made his way down the halls of the mind palace. He didn’t forget where the door was. He remembered when he was younger, he used to sneak here to play with Remus.

Then the door was there. The door had changed. Instead of three different coloured glass panes there was only one.

He quickly knocked on the door. It opened a couple seconds later with Janus standing looking confused at the other. Mildly confused as he was grinning.

“I am here to invite you to dinner my good sir,” roman said as he outstretched his hand. “do the other know you’re here?” “Logan and Patton do, if that’s what you mean,” “fine, but I can leave if I want to,” he took the others hand.

The walk was silent. The noise from the kitchen getting louder. He could feel deceit start to freeze up. he gave a quick squeeze as they continued on walking.

They arrived there sooner than they imagined. Patton noting deceit gave quick wave, Logan did the same and gestured for them to sit. the previous dark sides hadn’t been facing the two so when they turned to see the scales of the other, they immediately went silent watching his every move.

Janus sat down in an empty seat next to Logan, but opposite to roman. The ex-darks only sent sharp glares to the scaled one.

The dinner was quiet, no one spoke, the tension thick enough to be cut with a knife. Eventually Janus stood up, he gave a quick goodbye before he left. Virgil let out a sigh of relief as he left the room. Remus relaxed as well. Logan looked at roman with the same expression with one another. The plate that Janus had been eating from was barely halfway eaten.

The two seemed to have a small eye discussion before Logan stood up and left as well.

The day went on semi normal from then on. Roman glanced back to where the logical side had disappeared.

 It was the next day that he saw the logical side, he was sitting in the kitchen once again. A book he hadn’t seen before in his hands. The words were covered but he did manage to find a name ‘the maze runner’.

He wasn’t normally up this early, Patton would be up before hand most days, but occasionally this ended up happening.

--

 Thomas was the next. This day was different than normal. He had meant to go on a date. But when he had arrived there was no one there, two hours later and no one had arrived.

So now he was sitting in the living room watching steven universe trying to ignore the feelings that were creeping up on him. so he was rather surprised when he felt a weight sit down next to him. He had thought it was Patton so he didn’t really mind. But if had turned to look he would have seen a figure in a black wonzie.

He was just staring at the screen, not really watching. He felt and arm wrap around him and the figure pulled him close to their chest. His eyes felt heavy as he leaned into the soft comfort of whoever I was. soon he was fast asleep.

 When he woke up, he was still lying on the sofa. It was then that he realised there was someone he was using as a warm pillow. as he cracked his eyes open, he tilted his head up to meet the face of a sleeping snake boi. to say he was surprised was an understatement, but he didn’t move in fear of waking the other side up accidentally. Thus, he stayed unmoving for another thirty minutes. it was when he felt the other shift did, he realise the other had begun to slowly wake up. Thomas sat upright to give the other some space. it was then that he realised the other was waring a wonzie as well. A toothless one that seemed to be one size to big. he smiled as the other muttered a quick good morning.

“how long were you there Janus?” Thomas asked. “since last night, you were unknowingly lying to yourself and summoned me,” he yawned. “oh sorry for that then,” “no need, I wasn’t really doing much in the first place.”

Thomas stood up and clambered over to the kitchen and took two bowls out of the coubard. When he turned to ask the other what he wanted, he found no one there. he looked at where the other had previously been and began to worry. A small part wondering what the other was planning… but another part happy that he had been there for him. maybe in the future he could repay that.

--

Remus… oh how he missed his friend. He was angry at himself for messing up what once had been a chaotic friendship. he knew his words would have an effect on the other the moment he would hear the words that had been spat like venom.

Virgil, he wouldn’t be surprised if his mother and son relationship had been torn beyond repair. He missed his dark shadow. Wished he could take those words back from their final meeting. But alas, the other wouldn’t even bat an eye in his direction anymore.

And that’s how he found himself curled up on his bed crying silent tears. He had been doing this well… it was the only thing he could do. He barely had anyone. The light sides were only just warming up to him along with Thomas. and yet his room unlike the others stayed still. And he knew why.

Virgil and Remus, they believed that the others had accepted them. They knew they had been.

Janus knew he wouldn’t be. No matter what was spoken. No matter who said the words. He was deceit. Lying was always wrong. His scales were hated. He was hated.

Then the tug. That tug he had never felt before but Virgil had described it long ago. he was being summoned. He ignored it. He wasn’t wanted. They were just going to throw his ideas to the ground and say he was lying.

Then the tug came back a little stronger. And again, and again.

He tried his best to compose himself as Soon he couldn’t block the feeling anymore and could feel himself being pulled into the real world.  He appeared in a spot next to the stairs. Logan was next to him looking at the other with a slight worried look. One you’d find if you payed close attention.

He took a deep breath before it hitched as he looked around the room. Everyone was looking at him. “may I ask why you weren’t so insistent on summoning me?” he said. “we were wondering if you were okay, we hadn’t seen you in a while and we were getting concerned,” Thomas stated, worry laced in his voice. “I’m fine, I assure you,” Janus said staring at the other.

“see I told you snake face was fine,” grumbled Virgil on the stairs. Janus winced at the harsh words. They had all seen it however, the small flinch as Virgil verbally attacked his scales.

“Janus?” Patton mumbled. “I’m FINE.”

Everyone looked wide eyed at the others outburst. Even Remus and Virgil. It wasn’t often they had seen this type of emotion coming off the other. Virgil could feel the intense spark of anxiety that had filled him as he spoke.

Remus heard his thoughts. His mother figure… god if he could stab everyone other than Janus then he definitely would.

Patton could feel the sadness roll of him the moment he had appeared. But now it was so visible it made him take a breath that he hadn’t realised he had been holding.

Logan looked at the other with wide eyes. Not expecting the only other functioning braincell to have such an outburst.

Roman just felt guilt. He knew that this was long overdue. He knew the other wasn’t fine. He knew how easy it was to hide under a facade of fake emotion. That sooner or later it would overwhelm.

“I’m sorry,” Janus whispered. he had begun to sink down when I hand caught his arm. His eyes snapped to see the logical side before being pulled into a hug by him. His embrace was tight. Janus only cried at the warmth and comfort of the other. then he could feel another join. He didn’t look up. but only cried harder. He hugged Logan back ad best as he could.

Soon he was sure that a couple more had joined in the cuddle pile.

 His eyes were heavy, but he was waking up? his eyes opened, he was sandwiched between Logan and Virgil. The ex-dark had his head tucked in the crook of his neck. Logan had an arm wrapped around his waist.

Patton and roman were on the other side of the couch. Thomas was lying with his head in Patton’s lap. Remus was spread like a starfish on the floor.

He mentally freaked out for one or two minuets before the events of yesterday came pooling into his mind. ah, they had fallen asleep watching how to train your dragon.

Everyone else was still asleep. And he knew he couldn’t move. But one thing had crossed his mind. A happy thought he hadn’t been able to think in months. was he accepted? Well, he would wait for now.

And if later he had gone back into his room and open his door, he would find a hall filled with other multi coloured doors. Well, he would smile wide and join the others for breakfast and attempt to strike a conversation with Logan, and it would lead to Virgil and Remus laughing so hard that they would fall to the ground in tears. Patton and roman would only look on in confusion. But they would still be smiling.

After all their famILY was complete.

[ygobigbang-archive]

Pinch Hit round 2

This has been picked up! Thanks!

Hi all, we’ve had a last minute pinch hit! 

The fic in question will be posted on the 10th August so the pinch hit needs to be completed by then.

A reminder as well that if you already have an assignment, it needs to be finished before you can pick up a pinch hit!

So below the cut, check out the pinch hit! Please contact us by email - ygobigbang@gmail.com to pick it up

GX1

Pairings: Jesse Anderson/Johan Andersen x Yubel/Hell Johan Characters: Jaden Yuki/Judai Yuki, Jesse Anderson/Johan Andersen, Yubel/Hell Johan, Sheppard/Samejima + Fonda Fontaine/Emi Ayukawa (last two very minor) Content Warnings: the fic itself is extremely angsty and gorey. it will have multiple triggers so please, PLEASE be weary of what you’re getting yourself into. cannibalism, rape, and torture with a sad ending as a small tldr. gore artist bait   Summary: He never asked for consent. Never bothered to care. And now, fusing would solve all their problems to make their story a happy-ever-after. Simple, and so very, very easy. Or maybe it would all take a little more realistic approach. Rating: Explicit Pinch Hit needed: + 10 (ten) 100x100 icons OR 1 (one) moodboard OR 1 (one) greyscale sketch OR 3-5 (three to five) panel coloured sketch comic    

[maandags]

Hello! If you want, and you totally don’t have to, could you maybe do prompts 51, 59, and 6 with lance or keith? Thanks my dude!

this got veRY ANGSTY AND IM ONLY HALF SORRY

TW: blood, injuries, near death

51: "I can't breathe."

59: "Look at me."

6: "No one's going to hurt you."

--

You were bleeding.

You were bleeding, and it was bad. Keith's breathing was shallow as he pressed down hard on the wound gushing blood in your side, gritting his teeth against the whimper of pain that rolled past your lips.

"You'll be fine, okay? Hey, hey," he said shakily, wiping at his forehead with the back of his hand. "Y/N, look at me." He temporarily let go of the wound to cup your cheeks, forcing you to look into his eyes. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you weakly grabbed at his fingers, your chest heaving with rapid breaths.

Keith wanted to punch himself. He should have seen it coming, he should have watched out for you. He had been so focused on his own fight that he hadn't even thought of you until he'd heard your scream. Then he'd turned around, and watched you fall to your knees as blood started to stain your clothes a deep crimson.

Setting his jaw, Keith barked once more into his comms for backup–he needed to get you to a cryo-pod, STAT. As for now, he would be grateful if you just held on a little longer. He couldn't afford to lose you, not now. Not when the two of you had finally gotten together, after months of mutual pining, flirting and burying your feelings. He couldn't lose you now, he refused to.

"Y/N," he said when your eyelids started to droop closed. "Stay with me, all right? You gotta stay with me." Hating himself for it, he pressed down hard on your wound, hoping that the jolt of pain would be just enough to shake you out of your drowsiness. It did, and you started with a gasp.

"I–I can't breathe," you sobbed in between unstable breaths, before your eyes widened and you almost hacked a lung out coughing. Quickly, Keith helped you sit up, letting you squeeze one of his hands while keeping pressure on your wound with the other. You leant into him, turning your face so that it was buried in Keith's shoulder. "It hurts, it hurts so much." Your voice shook.

"I know," Keith said gently, desperately looking around for the backup while cursing under his breath–he couldn't carry you to the castle all by himself and fight off the remaining Galra that would try to get to him. He almost sobbed in relief when he spotted Shiro and Lance running towards him and waved his arms above his head, screaming Shiro's name.

He tried to stand up, but your dead weight in his arms threw him off balance and sent him stumbling. Gritting his teeth, Keith shifted his stance and hoisted you up in his arms: his muscles ached and his arms trembled, but like hell was he going to let you go now.

"You sure you want to carry them?" Shiro asked when he and Lance reached Keith's spot, but one furious look from Keith told him enough and he turned on his heel, activating his Galra hand. Lance would cover for Keith as he made his way back to the Castle, and Shiro would free a path for him. There were still so many things that could go wrong, but Keith didn't want to think about that. His first and only priority at the moment was to get you to safety.

It took Keith maybe thirty minutes before he burst through the Castle doors, yelling in between ragged breaths that you needed to get to a cryo-pod right now. Coran hurried him to the healing wing, face white as a sheet.

"Keith–you need to–you need to release your hold on them," he said, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder. Looking down, Keith saw that your face had gone a sickly shade of grey, beads of sweat sticking your hair to your forehead. He had been holding onto you so tightly that his knuckles had gone white, and he loosened his grip with a wince.

"The pod, Coran." His voice was hoarse.

Keith stayed by your pod every minute that you spent in it. He refused to go to his room, instead asking Shiro to bring him his pillow and a blanket and slept on the floor. He didn't go to the dining room to eat, and barely touched the plates of food that Hunk brought hi three times a day. He spent his every waking moment sitting cross-legged in front of your pod, nodding off with his back pressed against the cool glass.

He knew that you would probably have punched him for thinking this way, but he couldn't ban the guilt from his system. If only he'd watched out more carefully for you–he should never have let you out of his sight. He felt horrible for getting away with nothing but a few scratches and nicks, while you were in a healing pod and had almost died of blood loss. He would have given anything to trade places with you.

The first day, he hadn't been sure if you would make it. The wait had been excruciating, and he'd been as if paralysed with fear of that you wouldn't make it. After everything you and him had been through, maybe everything would end right then. Keith had felt more lost than ever, losing all of his will to fight. Never had he felt this powerless before. He'd overheard Allura and Shiro talking about him–they were worried. He hadn't brought it up. Lance stopped joking around, Pidge didn't get excited over a new invention anymore. Hunk didn't smile as much as he used to.

Two days after you had been installed in the pod, Coran breathed a heavy sigh of relief and announced that you would make it. No doubt. Your vitals were getting stronger and stabilizing, slowly but surely. Keith felt as if a huge weight had dropped off his shoulders. He became a bit more lively. Ate whatever meals were brought to him. Started talking again. Pretended not to notice how relieved his friends were.

On the fifth day, Keith woke up to a beeping sound filling the silence around him, and immediately sprung up, bayard in his hand and frantically searching for the source of the sound. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the screen displaying your vitals flickering, and the next thing he knew he was yelling for Coran, rushing forward and panicking silently, his hands hovering over the screen, not daring to touch anything because he might just screw up and accidentally kill you.

Immediately, the fear crept in. Why was the pod acting this way? Was something wrong? Had Coran been wrong when he'd said that you make it? His mind clouded with panic, but by then Coran had rounded the corner of the room and was sprinting towards the pod, closely followed by the rest of the team.

He unceremoniously shoved Keith out of the way when he got to your pod, fingers tapping the screen at lightning speed. Soon, a smile split his tired face. "They're ready."

The glass panel retreated with a hiss, and Keith rushed forward to catch you when you started to fall out of the pod. He didn't even try keeping both of you upright this time, letting himself fall to the floor and laying your head in his lap, brushing strands of hair out of your face. You were back. You were alive.

Your eyes cracked open and you blinked a few times to get used to the light before focusing on his face. "Keith. Hey." A lazy smile stretched your lips.

"Hey," he laughed, not able to hide his relief.

"What happened?" you asked, a frown knotting your eyebrows as you pushed yourself upright on your elbows, wincing with the movement. Keith guessed your limbs were very stiff from spending four days in a cryo-pod.

"You got shot. Almost died, but you're good now. Nobody's going to hurt you, okay?" Keith flinched at the words. You snorted, lacing your fingers through his and pecking him gently on the cheek.

"Okay."

[idonthaveanaccent]

Isaac Takes the Mic

So this is the first part of the wattpad exclusive content I made, and it’s in the humans POV! I took everyone’s favorite, Isaac, and gave him the reigns for this part! I wonder what wacky things he’ll get into?

Isaac frowned as he unscrewed the panel. He shifted his body into the narrow hole, and turned on a flashlight. He stuck it in his mouth and began tightening one of the mobs that had come loose.

He could hear Grudge tapping a wrench against the ground. It made for good ambience, but was overall annoying. He sighed, shifting a bit more to keep his body from locking.

It's too tight in here.

"Thank you kindly, Browne. You've been a mighty fine help 'round here." Grudge suddenly cut in.

Isaac rolled his eyes before taking the flashlight out of his mouth. "Compliment me all you want later, but right now I gotta focus, otherwise the pipes will burst. We'd be screwed if that were to happen."

Grudge brushed him off with some strange noise, but didn't say anything else. Isaac sighed as he tightened the knob until it moved no more. "Done. Now, pull me out. Slowly, please. We don't want a repeat of what happened last time."

The last time Grudge had helped Isaac out of a narrow place, he ended up miscalculating how much he weighed and checking him across the room. Isaac had to go to the infirmary. It was okay though, he got to have Quinn at his beck and call. He smiled at the memory of her hitting him for making her cool his meals. It was beautiful.

He loved to make her scream.

Any dirty thoughts he had were pushed out of his head when Grudge yanked him out of the narrow tunnel, sending him flying about three feet. He hit the ground. Pain flared up in his rib cage. Isaac wheezed as he sat up. "Warn a guy next time!"

Grudge clicked his tongue. It was his way of laughing, he had discovered. Isaac narrowed his eyes at his friend. "Shut up now. Since I did the fixing and you also threw me, you get to clean up. I'm going to go get some ice and chow."

His friend laughed again, nodding at him. "Alright then, little guy. I'll see you in about an hour or two."

"Make it three." Isaac said as he ran out. Now, he didn't have to hear Grudge tell him no. He had three hours all to himself!

Isaac sighed as he sat in the cafeteria. He had a bag of ice wrapped around his torso. A bruise had already begun to form. At least he wasn't in a cast. He took a bite of his sub sandwich, enjoying the delicious mix of flavors that coated his mouth.

Lovely. Like a mini orgasm in my mouth.

Someone sat down next to Isaac. He glanced to the side and smiled. Sitting there was Quinn. She smiled sweetly at him. "Hey. You have some grease right here." She brushed her thumb across his cheek. When she pulled it back he saw a blob of black coating it. Quinn reached for his napkin.

Isaac quickly grabbed it and stuffed it down the front of his pants. Quinn huffed, looking at him. "Isaac!"

"You're gonna have to get it to use it." He said, a cheeky grin filling his face. There's no way she'd—

Isaac gasped as she shoved her hand down his pants. His body went numb as she grabbed the napkin and pulled it out. "Thank you, Sweetie." Quinn said as she wiped her thumb. "By the way, you're gonna want to take care of that." She looked down. Isaac didn't need her to tell him.

His face flushed, but he quickly shook it away. He leaned towards her, his breath fanning her face. "Why don't you help me, love?"

Quinn's eyes darkened. However, she gently pushed him back. "I'd love to, but I can't. Not today."

"Why not? What's wrong?"

His girlfriend frowned. "Isaac, did you forget—?"

Suddenly, Sil'keen ran in. Her eyes were wide and her hair raised. She looked around before her eyes met Isaac's. She ran towards him. "Mister Browne! Mister Browne!"

"Sil'keen! What is it?"

"You have visitors— a Jacqueline and Leonardo?"

Isaac's face paled. He glanced at Quinn, his food, and then his crotch. "Shit!”

Isaac scampered around his room. He hurriedly threw clothes into the closet— dirty or otherwise. Quinn stood at the doorway, a graceful smirk present on her face. Isaac scowled at her. "The least you can do is help me after that stunt you pulled."

"You shoved the napkin down your pants and challenged me. It's your fault."

"You've left me with blue balls! What will they think of that, huh? This is the first time you're meeting them, do you really want me to tell them about this?"

Quinn chuckled. "I'll tell them you challenged me, and forgot completely that you invited them."

"Jacqueline invited herself wherever she wants to go. You must understand that. Leonardo probably heard she was hijacking the shop and jumped at the chance. Frigging criminals." Isaac muttered as he adjusted his pants yet again.

His girlfriends sighed before walking forward. "Jenny and Fred are walking them over here. They'll be here soon. As much as I want to help you with your situation, I'd prefer they not have the potentiality of walking in on something that is quite personal. I'm sure you wouldn't want anyone to see that either, right?"

Isaac nodded, jealously filling his body. He grabbed a hold of her arms and pressed a hard kiss against her lips. "Alright, but promise me that later you'll finish what you started."

Quinn nodded, her eyes wide. "Deal."

Isaac pressed one last kiss on the corner of her mouth before continuing his desperate attempts at making their room presentable. As he picked up one of his dirty boxers, the sound of the door opening was heard. His eyes widened as he chucked it into the closet and pressed the button to close it madly. Just as it shut, the door opened.

Fred and Jenny walked in. Jenny laughed at something, and after her walked in a man. He was tall and bulky. Dark hair laid atop his head, with the sides shaved down. He ran a hand through his longer hair, allowing the curls to fall over his forehead. His dark eyes were like voids as they drank in Jenny's appearance. His skin was tan, pretty much the exact same tone as Isaac's. He wore a fitted black tank top and gray jeans. The shirt was tucked neatly under the jeans. His combat boots were laced up, but could easily be unlaced to look even more angsty. Isaac rolled his eyes.

Behind the man was a tall woman. Her dark hair was tied up into a braid that fell down her back. She had natural makeup on, though the eyeshadow and fake lashes looked heavy upon her eyes. Her lips were pursed as she eyed Jenny. Her eyes were a lighter shade, more of a caramel brown. Her skin was also a little lighter in comparison to the man and Isaac's skin tone. She wore a light blue dress that accentuated her curves. A black belt was tied around her waist, making it look trimmer and giving her more of an hourglass figure. Tall pumps made her taller than the man in front of her.

Isaac sighed. Fred looked at him and grinned. "Hey, Isaac! We brought your siblings here."

Jenny nodded. "They're really nice, unlike you."

"Ha ha, very funny, Jennifer."

The red head scowled at him. "Come on then, Freddie." She grabbed the poor blond's arm and yanked him out. Fred managed to say a goodbye as he was pulled into the hallway. The door closed behind them.

The man chuckled before looking at Isaac. "Hello there, brother. You haven't changed. Always chasing away girls, huh?"

Isaac rolled his eyes. "I saw you eyeing her, Leo."

Leo laughed. "Who wouldn't? She's a fine lady, that's for sure. Surprised you haven't tapped that, brother."

The woman rolled her eyes before shoving Leo. "Back off, brother. Leave the poor girl on her own."

"You're only saying that because you want her too, Jackie."

Jacqueline sighed, brushing a few stray strands of hair out of her eyes. "Who doesn't want that lovely little lady?"

"Fred, Mason, Me, Zellnor, Grudge, Tilorian—"

"Okay, we get it. But we want her, and that's what matters." Leo said, narrowing his eyes at Isaac.

"Whatever."

Quinn walked up. "Care to introduce me, Isaac?"

"Right! This is Quinn."

Jacqueline looked her up and down. A smile graced her face. "Hey there, sweet heart! My name's Jacqueline. I'm this one's older sister!"

Leo pushed in. "Name's Leonardo. You can call me if you ever want to have a good time." He winked. He had the audacity to wink.

Isaac scowled. He opened his mouth to say something when Quinn gently pushed passed him. "My apologies, Leonardo. But, I'm in a committed relationship."

"He doesn't have to know."

Quinn chuckled as she looked him up and down. Then, she met his eyes. She gently pulled him down and pressed her lips to his ears. Leo looked incredibly happy. "In your dreams, asshole."

She pushed him back. Leo's eyes went wide as he registered her words. Jacqueline smirked, clearly pleased with what just transpired. Isaac laughed as he hooked an arm around his girlfriend. "That's how you do it, baby."

Quinn chuckled before pressing a kiss to Isaac's lips. Leo frowned. "So you managed to snag this chick? I didn't know you had it in you, brother."

"To be fair, I snagged him." Quinn joked, pulling him against her. Isaac laughed as he kissed the side of her head. "We have a lot to talk about, it seems."

"That we do, brother. That we do." Jacqueline said, sitting down.

Isaac sat down in the cafeteria as his siblings gobbled down the food Micheele had cooked for them. Isaac sighed contentedly as Quinn held his hand. They typically held hands while they were eating. It just felt right to do it.

He squeezed her hand, which she squeezed right back. They fit together like puzzle pieces, which he loved.

He was cut out of his loving thoughts when Leo began to speak. "So, you're like a repairman aboard here, right?"

"Yes. I fix different parts of the ship that Grudge can't fix."

"Who's Grudge? They sound hot." Jacqueline said, grinning. Isaac had no idea if she was kidding or not.

"Grudge is a Harsivian. They look kind of like Drax mixed with Thanos." Isaac said, taking a bite of his food.

Leo frowned. "Is he purple?"

"No, he's still gray. He just has a longer face. He does have a lot of tattoos though." Isaac said, looking at his brother.

Jacqueline sighed. "Ah well. I was kind of wanting to hook up with an alien. Just imagine it— having sex with a strange creature that seem humanoid but is of another race!"

Quinn chuckled. "I like you, Jacqueline."

"Please, call me Jackie."

"Alright then, Jackie." Quinn said, smiling as she took another bite of her food.

Jacqueline turned back to her brother. "It's not illegal to hook up with an alien, right?"

Isaac shrugged, taking her another bite of his food. "Who knows. First you'd have to find an alien that would even want to hook up with you."

His sister rolled her eyes. "Just point me to this Grudge fellow and I'll see if I like him."

Isaac looked around. As he did so, he noticed Xylion sitting at a table with Jenny. They were talking, and Jenny kept laughing. He then noticed Fred sitting down alone, a phone in hand. He laughed as he talked to someone. It was most likely Justin. He then saw Mason sitting alone, eating his food in silence. At another table was Dattalion, Grudge, and Sil'keen. Grudge was holding up a glass of alcohol from his planet, while Dattalion excitedly told a story. Sil'keen kept laughing at him. Isaac was sure she had a crush on him.

"Over there, the guy with the big glass of alcohol."

"Ooo, sexy. Me like-y."

Isaac rolled his eyes. "If you do hook up with him, make sure he doesn't tell me about it. Or, don't tell me. I'd rather not know that my sister hooked up with my boss."

Jacqueline nodded. "I'll be good, brother dearest."

"Thank you."

Leo sighed. "There's no cute chicks aboard, besides that Jenny. She's busy flirting with that green dude."

Quinn nodded, taking a drink. "They're totally in love. They either won't admit it or don't realize it yet. I can't wait until they finally cross the line and have a hot, steamy make out session."

"We have a bet around here about how long it'll take them to crack. I think it'll be in three months."

"Lion thinks it'll be in one. He's optimistic. Says that Xylion already talks about her, and that he's sure one slip up will have them making babies in no time." Quinn said, laughing.

Isaac frowned. "Dattalion would never say that."

"He didn't use those exact words, I paraphrased."

Leo chuckled. "I can see them together. They'd be cute."

"Do they have a ship name?"

Isaac frowned, shaking his head. "They don't. But, I'm sure someone out there could think of one."

"Out where?" Leo asked, looking around.

"Dunno. I just said that."

Jacqueline shook her head. "You're weird, little brother."

"I try."

Isaac sighed as he stood at the docks. Quinn was next to him, her brown eyes drinking in all the people mulling around them. Leo and Jacqueline stood in front of them, also looking incredibly interested in the docks.

He smiled softly at his siblings. "Even though I didn't want you guys to be here at all, I'm glad you came."

Leo snorted. "Thanks, you're so kind."

Jacqueline narrowed her eyes. "I'll tell you all about the extracurricular activities I experienced if you say anything like that again."

Isaac gulped. He then mock saluted her. "As you say, sista!"

His sister laughed before pressing a sloppy kiss against his cheek. "Love you, little bro. Make sure that you keep Quinn happy and satisfied."

Isaac grimaced while Quinn laughed. Leo pushed Isaac's shoulder. "Don't mess up. I'd be honored to have this chick in the Browne family."

Both of their faces flushed as they glanced at one another. Leo smiled, squeezing his brother's shoulder and pressing a kiss to Quinn's cheek. "Goodbye."

Jacqueline waved. "Adios, mi hermano. I hope to see you later!"

Isaac smiled as his siblings walked down the dock towards their ship home. Quinn hooked an arm around him and pulled him against her. Isaac returned the gesture and they stood there for a few minutes.

"I like your family. They're nice." Quinn said, looking up towards him.

Isaac turned to look down at her. A smile stretched across his face. "You haven't even met my grandma yet. She'd love you."

Quinn chuckled as she pressed his face against his chest. "I love you, Isaac."

"I love you more, Quinn."

[questionofdarkness]

some things I noticed during the latest chapter (aka you all knew this was coming because 199 was made for me!)

So, why did this take me so long? Well, obviously, there weren’t only a handful notable panels for me this time! Also I was really busy and I wanted to do this on my PC so that I don’t have to split it up in multiple parts again. So… chapter 199, huh? What a great time to be alive for all my fellow birb boy stans out there! Though I must say, I am a tiny bit disappointed in one aspect: I don’t think they brought across Toko boy’s character as well as they could in this chapter. Where were all the angsty one liners? Where was the edginess? There was a lot of hood Hawks and more amazing pictures than I ever imagined, but… yeah, it just didn’t feel as much like my boy as I hoped it would. Nevertheless, I am obviously really excited that we get to see so much of him - I’ve been waiting for some insight in the Hawk’s internship since it was first confirmed that Toky also had taken one and all the fanons that became canon! But let’s start from the beginning, shall we?

Starting off strong with a beautiful Hawks! Amazing! 10/10!

My poor boy, look at his little legs! 

Wheeze wheeze indeed! Again, confirmation that Tokoyami really wasn’t in the best phyical shape (compared to the other 1A members that is!). I really like how they subtlety show us development in characters like the bird boy through panels like this one. Also don’t you think these two sidekicks look like half a Tokoyami each? Like, we have the “beak” and the black clothes. That means the whole group is actually more like a 1.5 bird, right?

Tokoyami, starting to stand up for himself! That’s the good stuff!

I think we all lost our shit at this panel, right? I mean. Holy fuck! I think horikoshi just goes to the bnha tag on tumblr when he runs out of ideas and goes like “Yeah, that’s stupid, let’s put that in!”. Also Hawks giving no single shit is my aesthetic. 

What kind of response is that???? Also Toky is so fucking done I’m crying 

(Did anyone else notice the braclets? Do they serve a purpose? I don’t think so. Oh boy. Also the choker. I was kinda hoping he had painted nails as well, but I guess we can’t get everything straight away, right?)

So first of all - yes, yes he does! 

Secondly “birdman”? Man? Really? You wanna call this 5′2 goth teenie a man?

Fierce! 

Poor boy, I feel you though.

I love how this is phrased. “He decided to take me again”. Because to my understanding, the students have to seek out their employers themselves - they don’t get offers like they did during the week long internship. That means Tokoyami was the one to contact Hawks and ask him to take him under his wings again (pun intended). Although he said he had learned nothing last time! Although he went into the internship with the mindset, that Hawks was just interested in his connection to class 1A. 

So Tokoyami conciously sought him out to prove him and himself how much more he had in him than Hawks had realized! And I love this aspect of my boy, because it has never been shown before. He always was trying his best, but he never really displayed such a direct, stubborn will to prove himself. Again, I love how subtly Horikoshi lets side characters grow. It’s one of the things I love most about bnha.

TENEBROUS ABYSS BODY!

No but seriously, look at his eyes, look at that determination! How can people not love this boy? Also at least we get an edgy “nay” here, so good job!

Recognition!

Look at them smirk, I fucking love Hawks!

You know what I really like about this panel? Normally, when Tokoyami uses his Black Ankh, you don’t really see his eyes but mainly those of dark shadow. But here it’s the opposite. For me, that again represent his growth - he isn’t hiding behind Dark’s strength anymore! That goes along really well with the overall message of this chapter. Gotta love hero aca for it’s story telling.

And the next second he looks like a tiny precious bird again. His beak is so round! Ugh, i wanna hug him so much right now!

And again, everyone looses their collective shit.

one whole bird!

But i’ve literally seen fanarts exactly like this before this chapter came out! What the fuck, Horikoshi??

I do not like the implication that Hawks might not have asked for Toky’y permission and just picked him up though. But then again I guess we just weren’t shown. I can’t wait for this to get animated!!

Also “We’ve become one with the wind!” is also a respectable Tokoyami line.

“!” “?”

Hawk’s using Tokoyami’s real name while everyone else calls him Tsukuyomi is also great. I wonder if he has done that before or if this is the first time. But I also wonder what it might imply. Maybe it shows that he doesn’t see him as but a trainee, or maybe that he can’t really recognize him as a hero yet. I’d say I hope to see more of their relationship in the future, but to be honest, I doubt it.

I can’t wrap my mind around the way my boy is drawn here! On one hand I love it - look how fluffy his feathers seem! - but it’s also a tad strange. But again, fierce Toky speaking his mind!

Mentoring!

Also look at how tiny Tokoyami is!!! God I love this boy!

Why does it make me laugh every time when Hawks talks about them being birds?

Hawks looks so damn cool here! 

But aren’t we gonna talk about how Toky clings to the mast? I mean good decision, but I still find it funny. Hawks is all dramatic, staring into the distance, and Toky’s like “yeah I really appreciate the advise and all but if I fall I will die!”

Still dramatically raking off his cape!

Also same, it sounds fucking awesome!

Momo, could you please stop being so gorgeous? Also please change your costume, it’s winter and this is very impractical to begin with! But still, I will always love that they actually give my girl some fat rolls!

Still at it with taking off your cape? Also again: cape buddies!

And Tokoyami looks hot from this point of view as well. Does that make me a furry? Am I being a furry? 

Oh, and Toru gets some lines! Not gonna lie, kinda forgot she was there for a second.

The edgelords are back at it!

I absolutely love how they show that fighting isn’t only about punching stuff and strategy isn’t only observing. The manipulation factor is fascinating and I love how they give this trait to a side character like Kuroiro. He’s generally an interesting guy this far - I hope we’ll see more of him in future chapters.

They didn’t even try to add Toru to the picture! Poor Toru stands, hoping she’d get some more screen time during this arc…

Also I love how for once it isn’t Aoyama who’s being eccentric. 

And my boy still looks so fierce and those arms!

PHAHAHAHAHAH THIS IS BLOODY AMAZING I LOVE THIS PANEL SO MUCH OH MY GOD!

Cue to me crying in the background

(Same)

Ok but this panel is hilarious. I can’t even fully tell while but just… look at his pose!

I love seeing my boy improve (obviously) and it’s again a nice reminder of how much happens behind the scenes in this story.

Ambitious!

Also every Tokoyami/Aoyama shipper is probably crying right now as is Aoyama because his cape got ripped in half

Up up an away my boy!

More gorgeous Momo! Her eyes! Her hair! God I’m so gay!

Quod erat demonstrandum!

Also “Keep flying around freely” is a line I never dared to hope to hear in relation with my birb boy. This chapter is a dream come true.

I will never get tired of seeing Dark and Tokoyami interact. I wish we knew more about those two!

RRRRMMMBBBBBBB

Aoyama is so pissed look at him! My poor dude!

He just… plops out of the shadows. Yeah, how’s life going?

Ah, my girl, my beautiful girl! You sure do think of everything - one of my favorite traits of you. Also it’s nice that Hagakure gets some lines. She has really been neglected this chapter. Then again, I assume 200 will be about Momo’s fight with Kinoko (which I find really surprising - I was sure 200 was going to be Midorya centered! I’m not complaining though), so maybe Hagakure will get to show off against Manga? But then again, there’s also Kendou who I think will be a Momo opponent as well (seeing how the two got history and, as even mentioned last chapter, have a friendly rivalry). I sure am excited to see how this arc will develop, though I am still scared that this group of class A might have to loose in order to maintain a balance to make the final battle and therefore the clash of Izuku and Shinsou count. 

Looking foreward to next week and thank’s to everyone, who stuck around for this rant :D

[procellasdracon]

 So a almost two months ago, an anon asked me this particular question:

And I answered it but I was not satisfied with what I wrote. So, here’s round two.

  I didn’t get across the points that I wanted to, and quite frankly, it was written poorly. So I hope to actually answer the question this time in a more clear and concise manner. As before, this is just how I interpret this question and of course my own viewpoint on why some may feel that certain Jerza fanfictions feel awkward in terms of personality. We may share similar views, some others may disagree, and that’s that.

Personality-wise, I think that it’s straightforward why they seem OOC - they behave like two different people when they are around each other. The times that they are around each other, it’s just for romantic fluff, especially after the Nirvana arc up until the end of the GMG arc and then sprinkled again in the last arc. We get so much time of Erza behaving ‘like Erza’ - loud, brash, silly in a serious way, but when she switches to thinking of Jellal, Erza becomes someone else. Most people don’t know how to write for that so they take characters and scenarios that they know and superimpose them onto Jerza interactions - making them fit into the ‘slot’. A few people may be able to pull this off but most casual writers don’t know how to do it.

When not around Erza, Jellal can be a dynamic character. He has charisma and he uses it. His magic (that I have my fair share of problems with), is extremely powerful as well. He is decisive and driven for his end goal. Very broad statements to be sure. The only time his quirks show up is when he’s with Erza and that may be seen as being cute in that he only gets his guard broken when he’s around her or when it concerns her. But really, his only quirk is that whenever Erza shows up, he turns into some little bashful kid. Okay… and?

As I said previously in my first post, taking the both of them out of the context of the Fairy Tail narrative and a potential relationship between them is all but assured. Everything lines up between them on paper - they are a textbook couple - it would be ludicrous NOT to think of them as a potential couple. He’s taller than her, older (by more than just 1-2 years), handsome and roguish, a dark and troubled past but he’s still earnest and innocent and is trying to fight the sins of his past. Textbook, am I right? Of course, throw them back into the Fairy Tail story and you get one of those sins being that he mentally abused the woman that he loves so earnestly. Because of this, he deems himself as being unworthy to love her, despite her wishes to try and foster a relationship between them, and it seems that everything is working against them being together. Romantic, isn’t it?

The thing is, a good romance story doesn’t necessarily mean that it will end up a good relationship, and Jerza is one such relationship. Too much of their ‘romantic fluff’ has been pushed onto them - ultimately at the will of Mashima. Too bad that Mashima dropped the ball on them. They have not been shown to really interact with each other outside of a scene not framed to be ‘romantic’ in some fashion. The crux of their entire relationship is building off of the lingering feelings that they have for each other. A few romantically charged moments with each other should not be enough to proclaim a long lasting relationship from. How they are written in canon is forced to hell and back - just ask Ultear, Kagura, and Milianna. There was a lot of issues not only between them, but between people that they both knew and had a prominent place in Erza’s life that was just ‘dropped’ in favor of pushing them together for angsty romance and angst is a dangerous seasoning for a storyteller. Angst may cover up some problems but it doesn’t fix them - similar to how putting hot sauce into food can cover up how it initially tastes but it doesn’t fix the actual seasoning/taste  problem.

Another thing is that Jellal went through several character overhauls during the course of the story, and that has hurt him as a character. At first, Jellal was the dangerously handsome bad-boy that had a possessive streak with Erza about a ‘dirty little secret’. And then thanks to some story amnesia, he gets ‘reset’ to a brooding dark prince character who is both edgy and handsome but still good. Erza has to become his ‘shining knight’ ready to defend him against any and all comers who would dare try to take Jellal away from her, because ‘romance’ that is hard fought is obviously worth it.  And then at the end, he tries to become the shining prince for her, rushing to save her from across time and space the battlefield. Its like every time you see him, he has become someone else… The truth is - we don’t know enough about Jellal - no history aside for Erza, no real motivation other than to make up for all the bad things he did to Erza, and no real purpose in his life other than Erza. He’s an accessory to her - he’s not a character. He’s amounts to no more than a piece of jewelry to be added only for ‘certain situations’. There is very little substance to him and what substance he had was torn away from him with that little personality reset. So what is there to build his personality off of - not a whole lot. This is why his character varies a lot between writers - he’s a blank slate that they can fill with anything they want. We all know how Natsu is suppose to be, we all know how Gray is suppose to be. The lack of a consistent character standard in Jellal makes it easier for people to just write out whatever for him - but as long as its romantic in some fashion, then it is validated just because.

Jellal’s redemption would make for a decent side story if it was handled better. Unfortunately, his angst was given to drive his romance, not to drive his redemption. Some may say that his romance with Erza is a part of his redemption but they interact so very little during the course of the story that it does not lend enough credibility to it. That and his actions outside of her just didn’t add up for me. He still could have tried to reach out to Wally, Sho, Milliana and the others to try and apologize for what he had done - that alone would have been far better than him destroying cults of Zeref. That and a romance-driven redemption story isn’t something that would feel right in Fairy Tail. It was a story that touted friendship and familial bonds - Jellal broke those with several people, not just Erza. So where is their context in the story? The lack of time focused on his actual redemption really hurt him as a character, especially since the time he got were given to panels to just develop those angsty romance feels that made people go ‘d’aaaww, it’s so tragic~’ Until he forgives himself, every time he looks at Erza, all he will probably see is what he did to her (and some of the others from the Tower - maybe). If he doesn’t forgive himself or if he doesn’t earn the forgiveness from those he actually wronged, then he’s going to go into self-loathing and probably try to kill himself. The entire world is forgiving him but what is he actually doing to ‘earn’ it? Some will say that you ‘earn forgiveness’ and they are right - you don’t ‘earn’ it - but that doesn’t mean that the trust that was once there is just as easily rebuilt. Make his redemption about trying to rebuild those bonds with the Tower of Heaven people - THAT would have made for relevant story. Learning how to extend that which he just learned with the Tower of Heaven people and extending it to the OS - also a good direction to go in instead of the ‘I beat you, now I own you’ angle. Erza looking at all of his earnest efforts to try and make amends for what he did and falling for him all over again - THAT I can accept. Those types of actions are what would validate her having feelings for him and not having to rely on how she felt about him years and years ago.

The harder one has to struggle to get what they want, the more satisfying the payoff - I get that aspect. Most of us will root for the underdog just because we want to see someone beat the overwhelming odds. I can’t deny Jerza’s ‘potential’ - it’s everywhere - but it’s no less valid to me than Erza discovering that she has developed romantic feelings for Natsu as the story went on and there was plenty of opportunity and potential for that as well.

[nagareboshi22]

Ok so I had a dream about Klance, but Lance in general. Imma put it under a cut cuz it’s kind of long lol. Gets angsty so you’re warned.

So in this dream, they're on this planet with humanoid civilians, and they've been there before from a previous mission. We're gonna call these civilians Rugrats. Anyways Lance and Keith are sent on a mission with two Rugrat children that look like Phil and Lil from Rugrats lmao because apparently they had the power to extract the stone they needed to find.

Before they left the planet, a man gives Lance a weird communicator. It looked like a round vase and you gotta stick your head in it for it to work lmao. He told Lance to try it out, so he does, but when Lance pulls his head out, he's... different, and Keith notices it but can't put his finger on it.

They're all on what looks like a cargo ship, Keith is in his BoM suit, the kids are seated on the side while Keith and Lance co-pilot. Apparently, Lance says there's a code they can enter into the ship so the ship can just go straight to their destination automatically, basically coordinates. He tell Keith to punch them in, but they were wrong, so Lance is all "oh it must've been this" and they keep getting it wrong until the ship's panel overloads and the ship ultimately malfunctions. But the thing is, it malfunctions when they're passing by a sun.

The ship lurches and Lance hits his head against the panel, not hard enough to knock him out, but Keith notices that Lance is acting more like himself again. They’re all scared, because it’s their doom is obvious since the sun’s gravity is pulling them in, but instead of freaking out, Lance goes over to the crying kids and consoles them. Keith is a bit start struck because he’s seeing a side of Lance he’s never seen before, and when Lance comes back to his side with the kids hanging off him, they share a look before reaching out to each other to hold hands. Their world was coming to an end, but at least they were facing it together...EXCEPT THAT THEY WERE SAVED.

An orbiting planet passes by just in time, its gravity strong enough to pull their ship away from the sun and more towards it. They had to crash land on the planet but they were safe and that’s all that mattered to them! They had to look for another ship on the planet, but during their time on the planet, Lance was like a big brother to the Rugrats and Keith had the Soft Look™, and just when they were about to leave the planet on their new ship, Keith confesses his feelings to Lance. Lance is startled but very happy, and the share a quiet moment just holding hands before they board their ship with the kids. Keith then tells Lance to report to the others through the weird communicator, so he does, but when he pulls his head out, Lance is back to that strange cold and detached attitude. That’s when Keith decided to go back to the Rugrat planet because something is not right. Lance tries to stop him, but in the process they scuffle and Lance gets hit which snaps him out of whatever it is that’s making him act different. They figure out that it’s the communicator, so they destroy it before they head back to the Rugrat planet. 

When they get back, the others ask them if they found the stone, but Keith ignores them and asks Lance who gave him the communicator. When Lance points him out, Keith becomes visibly angry. Apparently the guy was the ex-king that Keith had the pleasure of dethroning the last time they were on the planet. When the Paladins round on him, he reveals that he was trying to kill off the Paladins, and he was going to use Lance to do so because he seemed like the dumbest one among them. 

That obviously wounds Lance a lot and infuriates Keith who, along with Pidge and Hunk, start fighting the ex-king. Shiro on the other hand stays back to console Lance, who says things like “He’s right you know. I’m just the 7th wheel, I’m not as smart or as strong or have anything to contribute to this team.” And Shiro was all “That’s not true Lance! You’re so valuable to this team, you mean so much to us. You’re the kindest, the most selfless, and funniest guy we know. You’re so self-sacrificing that it inspires but scares the rest of us because if we’re down, we know we can count on you to have our backs, even if it means your life.” It was super emotional, they were both crying and bruh in that moment in my dreams I was hyper aware that s7 is going to be super emotional lmao.

Anyways, after their heart to heart, Lance and Shiro join the fight, and the team is doing so well until suddenly the ex-king activates some powersuit that he’s been wearing. Sadly, he wipes the floor of them, and he goes on a villain rant of how he’s going to take back his planet and throne, but he needs to get rid of pests. The ex-king then points a gun at Allura, and suddenly I’m in Lance’s POV and I can hear my heart pounding loudly in my ears when the gun is pointed at Allura. I start running towards them, just as the ex-kin is saying “Starting with you!” I jump in front of Allura. I see the gun right in front of my eyes, the sound of it going off, and then everything goes white. I woke up after that and I just laid in bed thinking “bruh, Lance died.” I SAW HIM DIE THROUGH HIS EYES I WAS SO SAD.

[headspacedad]

Tomorrow

more completely beautiful and yet slightly angsty Keith centered team goodness.  I love the way they all have their own ways of watching over each other.  Here we go, gang!  Enjoy what Writer Nonnie left for us today!

((*sees fanmail* BLEEESSSSS!!!! Here’s Day 4! I kinda rushed the ending and it’s a little shorter but take it!))

~~~~

The feats of Voltron were amazing. What once was a mere empty story of hope forgotten by time became a living legend once more, returning to liberate the universe of the clutches of the Galra, who were once on the same side of Voltron under their emperor Zarkon.

But history would not fall into darkness again. That’s what they were putting all their effort into, what they were risking their lives for. No matter how hard the enemy hits, or how impossible the situation becomes, the new Paladins were going to make things right, be it through diplomatic peace talks or crushing robeasts under their feet. That was their duty. They would be fighting Galra for most of the forseeable future, no matter how long that would take.

That’s why he trained with the gladiator when he could. Why he insisted that nothing bad would ever happen to Shiro that would render him unable to pilot the Black Lion. Failure was not an option. It meant that lives that could have been saved would be snuffed out, like a single candle in a dark room with a carelessly opened window.

Another round, another win. That would make fifteen rounds and it wasn’t even noon. He turned to grab his jacket, jumping into a fighting stance when he saw something hovering above his stuff. It was Ryou, holding a plate of sandwiches and some juice boxes. His face had froze into a wide eyed, tomato red look of surprise.

“Yo!” Ryou raised a hand, his knuckles most likely white from how hard he was gripping the plate and lips straining into a tight smile.

Keith’s shoulder dropped as he sighed. “Yo.” He put his bayard down, grabbing a sandwich, paying only a single thought to the fact that it was actually two sandwiches with the crusts removed and cut into quarters. “Trying to put your ninja phase to good use huh?”

“I have yet master Talk No Jutsu,” Ryou, with shoulders slumped in defeat, held the plate properly as they sat.

“Nah you got that down. I’m starting to think inspirational speeches are a Shirogane thing,” Keith gently nudged Ryou’s side.

“If only convincing a Galra to not be murder happy was as easy as killing them,” Ryou smiled and shrugged.

Keith stared at him with wide eyes. “Dude…”

“What?” Ryou seemed genuinely confused.

With a shake of his head, Keith went back to eating.

After being regaled with a tale of how Drunk Ryou once tamed a wild bear with peach jam, Sober Ryou had to go back to work. Keith was convinced that he was still taking apart the Castle panel by panel and putting it back together before Coran noticed and was somehow fixing it in the process.

And if Ryou was still finding new things about the Castle in a week, a month, or even years down the line, then all the more happiness to him. Every higher power knows he needed some wins. It hurt to watch him slowly descend into a rabbit hole of grief, even more so when he learned that by disappearing on the anniversary of Shiro’s disappearance, Keith had unwillingly made it worse.

Keith shook his head again. The past was the past, he couldn’t change it. What he did today would determing tomorrow, and tomorrow would determine the day after that, and so on and so forth. He needed to be there. He needed to put every effort into putting an end to the Galra’s conquest.

The Castle was home. Its people were family. Keith would protect that family and make sure his family had their home at the end of the day.

He woke up in the middle of the night. Another nightmare of being Zarkon’s pawn. One where he had to….

Keith slapped his cheeks. He would never hurt Shiro. Never. He would rather die than hurt his family.

Another round, another win. It cleared his head, had the benefit of extra practice, and no one could bother him in the dead of night. Red growled at him, telling him to go sleep. Even if he did leave, he couldn’t sleep. He figured the next round would tire him out, or the one after that, or the one after that. He was, in fact, tired but not tired enough to go to sleep. Hoping to rest his body for a short while, Keith sat with his back against the wall.

He woke up in his bed to Lance trying to paint his toenails.

“Keith!” Lance fumbled with the little glass containers. “You’re awake!”

Pulling his feet away from Lance, Keith raised one eyebrow suspiciously. “What were you doing?”

“Okay in my defense, Ryou has no business being that good at DDR,” Lance scowled. “Plus, he wants you to join our spa days. He says you need it.”

Of course Ryou was behind this. “No.”

“Oh come on! You said you would if I didn’t call you Super Dog!” Lance threw his hands up.

“No, I said I wouldn’t call them stupid. I never said anything about participating,” Keith got out of bed, putting on his socks and shoes before Lance could bewitch him into doing it.

“Ugh fine,” Lance grabbed all his mobile beauty supplies and packed them neatly into a little blue bag. “Hey dude, you sleepin’ okay? Coran nearly threw out his back carrying you to bed. What you doing in the training deck?”

“Training.”

“In the middle of the night?”

“I couldn’t sleep,” Keith shrugged.

“Okay it’s official, you’re a Shirogane.” Lance sighed.

Keith wanted to be angry. He wanted to make some snappy comeback. But then again, Lance was not entirely wrong.

“Hey,” Lance put a hand on Keith’s shoulder, “if you need someone to talk to, I’m here for you.”

“I’m fine, really, just worried.” Keith froze as Lance pulled him into a hug for all of three seconds, holding him tightly and patting his shoulder when he pulled away.

“We’ve been through a lot, it’s okay to talk about it,” Lance smiled softly, letting go of Keith, somewhat hesitant. “Coran said training’s going to be extra hard from here on out. If anything happens-”

“Lance.” It was Keith’s turn to give the assuring shoulder holds. “Nothing bad is going to happen to any of us. We’re going to get through this.”

If Keith had to kill any Galra in their way himself, then so be it. They were far from their goal, and every day, it seemed to get farther away, but they will still try. One planet today, a whole solar system tomorrow, as long as they didn’t stop, it didn’t matter.

Tomorrow is a day closer to victory.