#stop subconsciously (and also kinda consciously) still wanting him to come back and love you bitchboy! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tigerdrop · 4 years

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dogboy gordon rutting against benreys leg in the same way that benrey did it in the reverse. benrey encouraging him and also making fun of him in the same breath. yummy brain thoughts. i am rotating this

jesus christ i started thinking about dogboy gordon and have not stopped thinking. theres 7k words of dogboy stuff under here im going insane

how in the. help. Help. dog boy. how does he become dogboy. i cant keep giving these idiots potions but i guess thats what ive been reduced to

gman turns him into a dog boy. walks thru a portal and comes out in nintendogs but hes the dog and when he comes back out again hes still a little bit dogy. this is fucking stupid

THE TAIL WAGGING im going to pass away

> i think he would have such fucking issues with the fact that his tail and ears are expressing his emotions so much

trying to act angry towards benrey but hes given away by his tail wagging like crazy......and he never even knows its happening until somebody points it out

it would be cool if. um. he got a little more into roughhousing and rough play afterward. you know. like a . hes already really handsy......physical. . .. .

> okay like the anger turning into somewhat-serious jostling and pushing which turns into roughhousing

its not even horny at first it just gives him the weirdest fucking endorphins. like. its fucking fun man

> and by the time theyre roughhousing his tail is wagging furiously and like thumping on the floor when he gets pinned haha

> YES its about the exhilaration ......he gets this rush from flipping benrey over after he's pinning him, baring his teeth triumphantly

benrey pinning him by his wrists and half-laughing at him like "what the fuck is wrong with you??" and the rest of the science team chimes in like YEAH WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU GUYS WHAT WAS THAT

> gordon comes back to himself and turns red immediately and splutters like "i dont know! what - im just - benrey started it!” so like he refuses to do it again but then benrey pushes his buttons and he gets in his face, ears pinned back a bit and shoves him and benreys like oh...so its this again huh...

GOD......PUSHING HIS BUTTONS.......its sooo much fun now that gordons so physically reactive too

> what if he manages to get an honest to god growl out of gordon at one point and it makes something ugly twist in benrey's gut and he wants to make it happen again

and its probably really gratifying for him to see just how often gordons tail wags when gordon looks at him or snorts at one of his jokes

TWO SIDES

> the duality of their relationship....gordons tail wagging just a bit when hes looking at benrey though im

> im thinking about the growling though like...benrey gets fixated on how he fucking sounds, all deep and rumbly and this intensity just focused on benrey only....makes him think about how that would look in other contexts....

> benrey riling him up while their roughousing so he can feel that growl travel through his chest and like...getting gordon to that point makes him SO determined to win the "fight" over benrey hes almost a bit out of his mind with it......pins benrey and subconsciously ruts against him a bit as a sign of dominance....please stop me now goodbye....

NO LITERALLY THATS WHAT I WAS THINKING ABOUT THE MOMENT I STARTED TYPING

prodding gordon further and further and riling him up until gordon pins him to the floor, hard, an arm jammed behind his back and his HEV suit jammed up against benreys ass and rutting subconsciously as gordon. h. gordon. clamps down on the back of his neck and growls

benrey sucks in a rattling gasp and is like "what? ow" in a weirdly shocked yet distanced way

he cant feel where gordons hard b/c of the HEV suit but he can feel the metal awkwardly bumping against his ass Like That. and inwardly benreys on a loop of "what the fuck what the fuck" but not in a bad way in the slightest. just utterly cannot believe this is whats happening, right now, gordon freeman dry humping his ass behind a bunch of crates, not 100 feet from the rest of the science team

> gordon snapping out of it and being like...what the fuck am i doing... or....maybe the gasp makes gordon bite down harder in response...not sure

> gordon not even realizing hes doing it until that moment is so great....i dont know but....maybe he lets go and pushes off benrey, panting and wild eyed, and the image of benrey on his stomach, his bite mark in his neck, is burned into his brain

> he just doesnt say fucking anything and just dips to get jacked off by the suit maybe.... cant stop thinking about how it felt to see benrey with his teeth marks....hates himself for feeling that sick satisfaction in his chest

benrey......touching the back of his neck afterwrds, kind of dream-like, both consciously and subconsciously.......

i like making gordon freeman suffer so i want him to just angrily try to rut against his arm in private later trying desperately to get off thru this stupid busted HEV suit that he cant get out of. pathetic. gordon freeman humping his own fucking arm in a bathroom stall. like a dog

and he thinks about how benrey smelled when he had his teeth clamped on the back of benreys neck, his nose buried right against benreys jaw and neck, smelling the sweat and the hormones and feeling benreys rapid heartbeat, and his whole fucking head throbs with how bad he wants to get off

> and he just cant get off....has to deal with going back the team tense and a bit sweaty and just move on when they ask what happened. benrey doesnt say anything just stares at him and gordon cant meet his eyes. gordon tries not to fucking let benrey get under his skin cause i think hes probably mad upset and embarassed that he reverted to his like,,,more base instincts because of BENREY of all people.....

> but he still thinks about it sometimes and....he tries to distance himself from him but hes still a pretty touchy guy and he find himself around benrey still....laughing at his jokes and getting in his space once in a while. always pulls himself away when he notices but not before he takes in a deep breath of benrey's scent...

> meanwhile benreys trying to think of how to make gordon do that shit again LOL

ohmy god. oh my god.....before this.....before he tries to stop getting in benreys business and before he even recognizes what hes doing.......he like.....hes so touchy feely that he subconsciously tries to mark benrey a lot. like just doing everything in his power to rub the inside of his wrists somewhere on him. even if its barely gonna do anything b/c of the suit. its just instinct

> NOW HE ...now he realizes that he was doing that the whole time..jesus,...

> AUGH....in the buildup before this he didnt realize that he was doing it........but now he realizes he fucking misses doing that shit and kind of berates himself for doing it in the first place....like what the fuck....be Normal gordon...you cant want to fuck him....do you..?

i want him to. grrgohg i dont even know how or why this would happen but i want gordon freeman to lie supine on the ground with his hands up like paws like hes a big pupy looking for tummy rubs OKAY! BYE. I HAVE TO GO. im going to fucking sob why am i like this why is this the cutest possible thing for a man to do. i cant even think of a fucking reason why he would do this so im so fucking embarrassed

i want to fucking. i want to rub his fucking tumy and make him pop a boner from it im literally so sick of this earth

> i was literally Just typing: i just think it would be cool . To pet his tummy and keep telling him "good boy" in a Certain kind of Tone that just totally fucks him up about it . maybe flushed and tongue starting to wanna hang out of his mouth as he goes from laying flat on his back to kinda twisted to one side, breathing heavy, tail thumping hard against the floor cause hes a big dog so that thing is like a lethal weapon

> petting the fuzzy lower belly while hes already hard & needy just to make him whine Very high pitched and desperate-sounding bc its so close to what he wants but that just makes it worse 8)

> What if. Benrey pinning Gordon, maybe scritches behind his ear, as a "joke", he's a dog haha good boy wants ear scritches?? And Gordon immediately squirming and whining. Maybe even kicking his leg just a little bit

> i think it would be cool for a post-black mesa puby gordon pinned benrey to the floor with his whole body weight and humped the life out of benrey's leg while panting and drooling in benrey's ear. a total lack of regard for benrey, (of course he's into it tho) just using him like an object that's conveniently there for him to furiously get off on

> i'm thinking.... this happening after a period of prolonged teasing, like you said. rubbing his tummy and ignoring his dick

> Man ok combined with the suit edging huh? I love that, but i also kinda want gordon to sneak off to get off and discover his uh. k. kn. knot

> he sneaks off and if in this situation he can. idk. get at his dick in a bathroom or whatever. and well, he gets caught up so easily in his 'head empty' instincts mode that when he cums he's kneading that thang for like 2 minutes before he even becomes cognizant enough to notice. and then immediately panic. so idk maybe he cant get at himself for a while, right, so he didnt notice this

> i just think gordon being in the suit would not let him get at his dick and he would only be able to get off in really convoluted ways so like...he wouldnt fucking Know he had a knot he would just feel a weird pressure at the base that he doesnt know what its about. but he starts getting these fantasies of holding benrey down and staying in him when he comes and he doesnt know where the hell thats coming from.....yet. until after everything is over and he can get out of it, and the first time he jacks off again he realizes HOLY FUCK? like what the hell....but it makes sense in retrospect where those fantasies came from. but hes just super embarassed about those fantasies and pushes them down until benrey comes back into his life and activates him again

> in addition to embarassment i think he has a lot of complicated feelings about benrey and definitely feels a guilty about wanting to fuck him into the ground and fill him with cum....but GOD if benrey doesnt get to him just as much as he did in black mesa

> i think that something like this would be so unplanned and shit but like......theyve probably hung out a few times before this or more like maybe benrey has dropped into his house just to annoy him and gordon finds his ears pricking when he hears heavy footsteps around his house cause he recognizes them as benrey's...

> little rush of exhilaration maybe. cause it means they'll spend some time together and he has just all these emotions under his skin when they do. i dont know how this would happen but maybe gordon forgets to keep himself in check when benrey makes him laugh so hard he's snorting and his tail is wagging furiously.benrey tries to touch/catch his tail cause he's kinda curious about it and it never got to mess with it in black mesa. but it turns into roughhousing as gordon shoves him away a little bit but benrey keeps trying to get at it and then get at his ears

> "cmon man just let me touch them whats the big deal-" "NO!" but like hes still laughing a bit until they start really getting into it and he gets breathless and a little irritated at having to roll around and try to pin benrey's hands to the floor

hell on earth......the way his tails wagging and hes grinning and drooling a little once he gets benrey pinned.......

> little triumphant smile when he finally does.....got benrey on his stomach and he's subconsciously rutting against benrey's ass like in black mesa but hes just not noticing while he's berating benrey for losing

> talking right into his ear, and benrey lets out a little gasp when he does a particularly hard thrust and then hes like oh. fuck. he takes in a deep breath and can smell benrey's sweat and realizes hes just as horny about this as he is. cant help but bury his face in the back of his neck and lick. and benrey starts pushing back into him and talking the worst dirty talk and it makes him growl right against his neck and put his teeth there again as a warning not to move but benrey doesnt still, he just keeps talking. so gordon bites down, hard, cutting him off mid sentence with a yelp

f. fucking. benrey......arching his back into it.......pressing his hips up as high as theyll go......the angles bro.....the angles

> also: gordon popping boners more easily, even when he's just platonically excited w/ benrey..... yeah... :)

> like the thing about this is just that he got so excited from the wrasslin that he popped a boner....wasnt even thinking of horny.....

> not until benrey started gasping and arching back into him. then hes immediately aware of how this looks...like hes already basically in the position in his fantasies hes just rutting against him in the imitation of fucking

> gordon getting more frenzied by the little sounds benrey is making as he clamps down on his neck, drool dripping down his chin. benrey braces himself with one hand and gets the other to pull his pants down and then tug on the leg of gordon's down a bit because gordon is kind of. not thinking straight right now. gordon gets the message and fumbles with the buttons to get it down and like. haha i thinnk it would be fun if benrey prepped himself before this and gordon notices like. you really managed to prep urself this time? god, you really wanted this to happen. but maybe benrey had been doing it the last few times cause gordon would get in his space again sometimes and things were tense

NO GOD THIS IS GOOD. LIKE. oh my god gordon just like bitching at him and getting up in his face and Growling a couple times before while his pants are all tented from the inadvertent excitement boners that he doesnt even realize hes having.....and benrey might not be smart but hes not stupid

theres like a 50% chance theyre gonna fuck at any given time he realizes so like. why not......

even if it doesnt work out in the moment benrey still spends the whole time hopped up on the knowledge that they could have, that he was the little fucking pervert who got himself all prepped just in case gordon decided todays the day hes just gonna mount him, and honestly the way he beats his meat and fucks himself afterwards might be nearly as good as the real deal, just from that little bit of self-inflicted degradation

like u said...........he really wanted it to happen

> hhh.... maybe gordon ruts a bit against his ass and benrey guides him in and. he makes a deep growling rumble when he bottoms out. benrey feels it through his chest and gets a full body shiver as he's filled. i dont think hes fully developed his knot yet but its a tight fit. he starts fucking hard and fast into him while open mouthed panting, he cant keep his face away from the benrey's neck, licking up the sweat and burying his face there to breathe in his scent

the fucking . the desperation......every instinct in his body has been telling him to fuck benrey - yes, that benrey, fucking benrey - into the ground for......weeks now? months??

dudes probably tried everything he can think of to overcome it and to think about literally anything else when he gets off but nobody he fucks even comes close to smelling as good as benrey did when gordon had him pinned and gasping and sweating and he could smell the want rolling off him in waves.....and it sucks massive dick and he hates it

> hes been driven crazy by this thought for so long.....cant fucking control himself. wh. what if gordon managed to get a hold of a piece of benrey's clothes that he left and held it up to his face when he let himself jack off to this particular thought so he could get the scent but it jsut wasnt the same without his warm, panting body below him . he always nuts the hardest when he has it though

huffing benreys undershirt and desperately rutting into a pillow on his hands and knees with his ass fully up and hes just utterly debased right now

sad and pathetic gordon freeman humping his pillow like a dog and whining thinking about fucking benrey. if his past self could see himself like this right now he would be disgusted

> !!!!!!!!1 HIM GETTING INTO THE MOUNTING POSITION ON INSTINCT WHEN HE DOES IT...YOUR BRAIN ! i think that gordon would definitely give everything hes got to benrey when he finally gets to fuck him.

> now that hes actually doing it he's just out of his goddamn mind. benrey already being ready for him, slick and hot, just letting him push in .....i think he would definitely go insane

dudes never fucked so hard or so mindlessly in his life......for once all the neuroses just fly out the window. overcome by instinct

> letting out all these whines and moans, not even caring for how loud hes being... benrey's wanted this so fucking bad hes just eating it up, pushing back on him like an animal and getting a power trip that he made gordon this unhinged

thinking about him just being utterly shocked when benrey guides him in and he can just bury himself all the way to the hilt so easily and it makes something in his brain snap

> gordon doesnt even tell benrey when hes close, benrey can just start to feel his knot swell inside him and how it stretches him a bit past what he prepared for...but he wants it in him so fucking bad, he just lets gordon keep fucking into him

like. oh my god. does benrey even know about the knot or is this a brand new and fun surprise for him

> I DONT KNOW......I JUST REALLY LIKE THE THOUGHT OF HIM BEING A BIT CAUGHT OFF GUARD BY IT....

> being caught off guard by it but being so turned on by the feeling of it filling him that he lets out this really high, needy sound. which goes straight to gordon's dick and he just pushes into him harder and jolts his whole body with it. maybe he h....he bites down on the other side of his neck again and thrusts in one more time before coming deep in him. just shuddering from it, eyes squeezed shut and jaw locked around benrey

benrey just fuckin. face down ass up and arching his back as high as he can

(mumbling very quietly) it might be cool also if. gordon maybe.....started growling some things as he got close. a certain something. a word

you know......just......bent over benreys back......arms wrapped around benreys chest and fingers digging into the soft flesh (maybe even his titties, if youre feeling spicy).......pistoning his hips in staccato bursts while he growls.........u bh hhhhh......"mine". over and over not even realizing hes doing it b/c his brain is so fogged out on the sheer delight of rawing benrey after having thought about it non-stop

(mumbling so quietly im speaking at a pitch below the human hearing threshold) benrey hoarsely saying "'m yours, 'm yours" while hes got one hand jammed underneath himself to tug at his dick is the thing that sets gordon off and makes him come, perhaps. perhaps

and gordon just.....slumps over him, leaning his full body weight on him, panting weakly into his ear while his hips subconsciously rut just a little bit, arms still wrapped around benrey but otherwise as useless as a bump on a log while benreys jerking himself off to the wild new feeling of having that knot stretch him open and tug at him every time gordon shifts his hips

gordon nuts and becomes utterly useless but at least his knots still fat as hell so benreys still got something to work with

(sobbing) i just want to see men acting like animals leave me olone..... its about the submission to instinct......the degradation and dehumanization......and also the scent kink its all about the fucking scent kink. its about wanting to huff a guy you pretend you hate like hes a fucking magic marker and its about wanting to make him smell like u

> for scent kink, Gordon's boners due to sweaty benrey hehehehe. this is narsty -> Benrey is like "yeesh that was a lot of exertion" after their first almost-sex wrasslin match, and gets embarassed, so next time he like, wears a bunch of old spice.... but gordon doesn't get as excited. like yeah he can feel him against his back and yeah he's not soft but.. he's not panting or as hard. benrey thinks real hard when he gets home

> CLEAN SWEAT OK ITS A COMBATIBILITY THING OK. IT IS. LOOK UP THE SCIENCE OK I ...walks away. clown shoez

YOU ARE SO FUCKING CORRECT THANK U

> Maybe next time He doesn't bother with the old spice at all, and he gets real into the wrasslin... hell maybe he even uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh gets gordon's head under his arm im just saying

I DIDNT WANNA BE THE ONE TO SAY IT BUT NO YEAH THATS COOL. ITS A VERY COOL THOUGHT

think about......dogboy gordon roughhousing and getting pinned down himself and snapping his teeth up at benrey like joking but not joking. you know

they both start just getting really into roughhousing b/c sometimes gordons brain gets Stressed The Fuck Out by all the added stimulation to the senses of being pupy......theres too many sounds and smells sometimes and it makes him even more neurotic and makes him start acting up and getting irritable and trying to start shit until he exerts himself enough to tire his brain out and make it shut up

maybe even like.....in the interim after black mesa but before he runs into benrey again, gordon becomes a fucking hot mess b/c he doesnt know how to deal with it all and the only way he got thru black mesa without his brainstem snapping in half was b/c he and benrey would start shit and start fighting and wrestling and the rest of the science team eventually shrugged and accepted this as a (very weird) part of their life now. he looks like hes one minor inconvenience away from a panic attack and its so sad

any kind of physical exercise would help (he takes up jogging when hes feeling stressed out, which is a lot, and hes gotten some really nice legs by this point) but theres just something different about the roughhousing. its a mental exercise as well as a physical one, so it exhausts his brain more, and unbeknownst to him, he just gets fucking endorphins from the way benrey smells and from being able to mark him with all the up-close physical contact theyre getting. so. hence the wrestling and roughhousing and gordons occasional tendency to just pounce the guy in public and start fighting him with his tail wagging and thumping like crazy

it might be even better if gordon attempts to roughhouse with just about the whole science crew at some point, just for a point of comparison

like.....its usually good, its satisfying, and it wears him out and lets him function like a human being......but theres just something about roughhousing with benrey thats really satisfying and he doesnt have the emotional intelligence to figure out what it is

gordon freeman is an idiot, is what im saying

> tommy indulges him and probably lets him win a few times, coomer soundly wins out every time and bubby probably...loses some before getting pissy LOL. i think that its fun for him to get the most Good Feelings out of roughhousing with benrey.....

AUUUUGHHH WHAT IF HE LICKED BENREYS FACE THO

g gbfbhhh god im obsessed with the way benrey laughs at him and asks "what the fuck is wrong with you?" in the act 3 commentary and thats the exact kind of vibe im feeling from him about like. everything gordon does in pupymode

> Okay, before I go to bed, I shall leave you with a Dog Thought™. Gordon probably wouldn’t be the “best trained” dog in the world because, well, he doesn’t have anyone to make him listen or obey. Heck, given his need to be in control, he probably thinks he’s the leader of the proverbial pack and nobody can tell him what to do. He’d probably slip and do quite a few “rude” and obnoxious dog things, including but not limited to being all over Benrey.

> Trying to goad him into roughhousing. Licking his face. Being in his space to the point that it even starts to make Benrey raise an eyebrow. Inappropriate marking and whatnot. [cough] And what if Benrey--in a weird reversal of the roles we usually give--is stuck with the task of… training Gordon… to behave…

> YOU KNOOOOW. Because pitting alpha dog Gordon against Benrey, who is trying to get him to be “good”...

> … Well, that could be interesting.

> Imagine if you will: Benrey realizing he needs to get Gordon under control. As much as he likes the attention, it's becoming too much. Relentless. Tables have been turned and now he's the one that's a little overwhelmed by the situation because, well, Gordon is running on pure instinct half the time. Making it hard to do things. Making it hard to live his life. Always in his bubble which was, like, fine at first but now he can't do anything without feeling a wet tongue on his face or having Gordon trying to goad him into rough housing.

> He needs so much attention. Has so much energy. It's too much.

> So, he decides he's going to try to "train" Gordon to not... do that. Benrey trying to assert dominance over Gordon, as if he were just a normal dog. Gordon, who has already marked Benrey and decided that Benrey belongs to him does not take to this very well. This is not how the chain of command works. This isn't how the chain of command works at all.

> Benrey, struggling to curb him through praise and admonitions--"good boy," "bad boy," tossing him ~treats~ if he does something right--is now facing off with Gordon, who is both enamored with the attention he's getting but utterly pissed off by the fact Benrey is trying to stop him from doing what he wants.

losing it at the tables being turned and now gordons the annoying fucker getting up in benreys business all the time and never leaving him alone. he deserves this

> They're basically both unmovable objects and unstoppable forces. Benrey is stubborn and isn't going to give up all his sweet PS3 time because Gordon won't stop humping his leg, and Gordon is not going to give up his God given right to make Benrey his property. But Benrey isn't completely averse to the idea of being Gordon's bitch. He just wants to be his bitch on his own terms.

> So, in a surprising show of... well, intelligence on Benrey's behalf, he starts redirecting Gordon's energy towards what HE wants Gordon to do.

> That's how you handle misbehaving dogs anyway. You redirect their energy. That's what all the books on dog training says anyway, and Benrey's inclined to believe it because he's read it in all two books on the subject he casually flipped through.

> So, when Gordon starts getting in his space, he starts redirecting him to touch where he wants touched. "Good boy." When Gordon starts getting a little rough, he purposefully positions himself so he gets the most out of it. "Good boy." When Gordon's licking his face, he starts trying to guide that tongue down to his neck. Feels better there. "Good boy."

> Because he's not a complete idiot. Him and Gordon both know this is sexually charged at this point. And Gordon... Gordon can bend his behaviors a little bit as he's being directed if he still gets to do what he wants (in a way), and Benrey still gets to be fondled by the nerd.

> "But part of the problem is that he is in Benrey's space all the time!" Yeah, but Benrey figured that out, too. You know what shuts up Gordon real fast? Pushing him back down on the other end of the couch and telling him to stay. And if he listens, he slowly, carefully hand feeds Gordon a treat as a reward. Pushing it into his mouth, making sure it goes all the way in. Letting Gordon lick the last bits of taste off of his fingers. He usually sits still after that. "Good boy."

i have a thought thats almost unrelated but im so desperate to give this scenario the proper context

thinking about......gordon getting out of black mesa and hes still dogboy.....and hes attempting to go back to life as normal now that benreys out of his hair for ever but one day his pupy nose catches That Fucking Smell on the air and he realizes that benreys not fucking dead. he thought benrey was fucking dead, b/c he killed him

gordon freeman losing his mind for a solid week or two trying to hunt that smell down (why?? to prove a point?? to try to kill benrey again??? uh huh.) and then when he does hunt benrey down, its like.....well, what was the plan, bud? you found him, and now youre having a staredown outside a 7/11 while benreys frozen halfway through his big gulp

i literally forgot what i was typing b/c dogy gordon tum y rub b gtfhgbb ggfabgbbg

and.....well......he doesnt know exactly what his game plan was, but he does know that benrey cant be trusted as far as u can throw him, and hes not about to let benrey wreak havoc on new mexico if he can help it, so now his new hobby is......tracking benrey across the city to keep an eye on him

and thats how they keep ending up in close proximity

and thats how u start looping in the whole role reversal thing.....suddenly gordons the one that benrey cant shake......hes a bloodhound and hes got the scent

SORRY im SORRY i crave context with the same ferocity that i crave, like, air

and then they start roughhousing when gordon tackles him to the ground one day to stop him from doing.....something......and gordon snaps being to being a normal person so quickly afterwards that its dizzying. turns out a solid 80% of what he really wanted was a sparring buddy

> good afternoon everyone this is not horny in the slightest but i just wanted to say- you know that thing dogs do where they get REALLY excited and playful when you come home from a long day at work? well i’m just thinking about. y’know how benrey has a tendency to just, vanish for a while and come back like nothing happened? think it’d be cute if he were gone for a particularly long stretch of time b4 catching up with the science team again and gordon RESPONDS in his typical annoyed, bratty fashion while his body language is saying something completely different (he still hasn’t mastered the art of puby)

> like, u know, tail wagging a hundred miles a minute, ears perked up and attentive, subconsciously getting all up in benrey’s space

Im going to Cry thats so fucking cute wtf wtf wt ff

still going insane thinking about the “good boy” thing......like...... its all fun and games until hes grappling his best friend benrey and hes got benrey in a headlock and hes plastered against benreys back from head to toe and his tails thumping excitedly against the floor and hes panting hot and harsh right against benreys ear and benrey takes that moment, right there, to choke out "good boy"

its half outright horny and half power play b/c benreys banking that either theyre gonna fuck or gordons gonna let go and be like "what the fuck, man" and then benrey can get the drop on him again

the way gordon just goes stiff after he says it.....breath getting shaky.....dick twitching once against benreys ass and the guy can fucking feel it clear as day......Augh

his tail slows.....and then fires right back up again when he tentatively rocks his hips against benreys ass and feels the sound benrey makes more than he hears it......and like for fucks sake theyve been dancing around how horny their roughhousing sessions are for weeks, this guy deserves to finally get his rocks off by dry humping benreys ass while benreys getting spots in his vision from how tightly gordons got his arm wrapped around his neck. he deserves this

gordons free hand slowly opening up and pressing flat against benreys shirt, then crawling under it so that he can feel the bare skin of his stomach......rocking his hips against the dip between benreys cheeks and whimpering when benrey says it again, breathless and hoarse. "good boy." his tongue poking out to lick a broad, wet stripe up the side of benreys neck to taste the salt and sweat and the hormones, jesus christ, hes never been able to taste if somebodys horny before but its rolling off of him in waves.......and gordons breath comes out so loud and harsh and desperate when benreys leg lifts up a little bit for him to slot his own between them more easily

just mumbling stupid horny shit like "fuck benrey, you taste so good" while his tongue lolls out of his mouth and he licks the curve of benreys ear and rolls benrey onto his stomach b/c something in the back of his brain is whispering to him that it would be a really, really good idea, and hes originally got benrey just crushed flat against the floor with his full body weight but benrey takes a rattling breath and tells him to ease up, get up offa him.....

and gordons confused at this point b/c he was pretty sure this was where this was going, he was being a good boy, but that thought doesnt last very long b/c benreys shuffling into position under him, raising his hips and pushing gordons up with him while his face and torso are flat against the floor, and, Oh. hes. hes doing that. this is what theyre fucking doing now

> gordon taking the collar of benrey’s shirt in his mouth in an crude imitation of scruffing him

every fucking bone in gordons body is telling him to move his hips, fuck benrey stupid, bury himself to the hilt, but he cant do that when theyre both still clothed so he does the next best thing and ruts against benrey like he fucking means it and like if he just tries hard enough, gets enough friction, itll be just like fucking him for real......

hes so dizzied by looping thoughts of he wants this, he wants you to mount him, like youre a filthy fucking animal, arent you? you sick fuck, you wanna mark him and breed him and hed let you, hed beg you for it, look, hes doing it right now and when he comes back down to earth, yeah, benrey is begging right now, isnt he. while hes palming at the front of his sweatpants and whimpering and calling gordon a good boy, attempting to tug his pants down to his knees so gordon can rut against bare flesh, and gordon slows down just enough to let him do it and to fumble open his own zipper to ease some of the agonizing pressure

gordon fumbling his dick out of his underwear to line it up between benreys fat cheeks and god, the feeling of skin against skin is so much fucking better than chafing against his jeans that it makes him growl against benreys neck and benrey cant pump his fucking dick fast enough. hes so encouraging, what with all those little sounds hes making and the way hes arching his back and pressing his hips up as high as theyll go, groaning into the crook of his arm "fuckin, fuck me, bro, j-just like that"

> thinking...... they both get so lost in it, they both can’t hold back long enough to fuck for real. this is too hot, benrey feels something hot and wet on his ass and gordon is curling into him. benrey’s never felt so simultaneous turned on and frustrated that he’s still empty, he’s still gonna have to wait, snd ironically that denial pushes him over too

GOD yes fuckin. coming on his ass b/c gordons so frantic and desperate that he cant wait...... but seeing his cum all over benreys ass is deeply satisfying in its own way. he smears it deep into benreys skin to mark him like that

> oh hey imma be nasty sorry but Gordon all cum-high just sort of manouvering Benrey until he can start licking his cock clean bc he likes to uh. i mean benrey's all wet and you know. he likes it. and benrey comes from that, before he can even think about sucking him off properly

> he doesnt have a thought left in his head at the moment... and can u blame him? so he just uh follows he nose....... and benrey's brain is deleted except for "GORDON FREEMAN ON MY DICK????????" bouncing around like a screensaver yes

> yeah he's not even trying to suck him off really, hes not gotten that far yet cuz hes so cumbrained, gone stupid, etc

im gonna be gross here too okay......and like. fucking. huffing and burying his nose into the crook of benreys thighs b/c he smells so intensely like sex and sweat and it makes gordon lightheaded

> YEAAH maybe he starts licking there before he gets up to his dick. it's not like he's dragging it out really so it's not long but benrey's gaping like a fish. he's trying to say something sorta but he can't get any words out and isn't even sure what he himself is trying to say

maybe he cant help himself and he just starts licking and biting on impulse b/c its your resident fuckin thigh guy here and i think benrey deserves to get em chomped like a drumstick

> and then that's gordon's tongue on his dick, bro and this neurotic mf looking so pleased and blissed out as he sloppily licks him all over is a sight he couldn't have even cooked up in his imagination before now

> benrey not coherently enough to warn him he’s like right there, his babbling incoherently at the tease of gordon’s nose and lips is gonna make him- and then his Tounge darts out and it’s over, the start of the end and he’s spurting all over gordon’s completely surprised face without even being jerked or licked through it

> maybe since gordon's been so stressed and keyed up for so long that benrey coming is a surprise but still doesn't shock him enough to clear the cumbrain, so he licks ben clean after that too, while he's twitching and whimpering etc

> think that benrey massive meat being useless and barely even touched is hip and rad even in the context of him technically being in the higher position of power

> then rests his head on beny's belly for a while, feeling very accomplished and tired. he'll panic later, don't worry

god im still thinking about. pillow humping/voyeurism

gordon freemans a bad fucking dog and sometimes he cant help himself and just starts rutting into a pillow with his ass up and his face buried in one of benreys undershirts while hes just panting and mumbling shit the whole time about benrey, benrey, benrey, why is he so fucking obsessed with benrey and with thinking about mounting him just like hes doing to his poor abused pillow every week

and. you know. maybe one day......benrey kind of.....catches him in the act. i think that would be cool. just coming home one day and cracking open his bedroom door and seeing gordon freeman on all fours, his teeth sunk deep into one pillow and another pillow between his thighs, desperately fucking it while hes groaning benreys name b/c he sure as shit was not expecting him back that early, which is why his cumbrain made him feel confident enough to crawl into benreys bed and roll around in it and mainline benreys scent from his clothes and nut on his pillow (and then feel fucking bad about it and frantically try to clean it off)

and benrey just slooowly steps back with his heart pounding out of his chest for possibly the first time in his whole life b/c he did not think gordon freeman ever wanted to fuck him, but here he is, using benreys pillow as an imitation of the real thing and jerking off in his bed

just turns right the fuck back around and goes into the bathroom and splashes some water on his face and stares down at his sudden boner

THANKS FOR READING ALL OF THIS B/C THIS ISNT EVEN GETTING INTO THE PISS STUFF THAT WEVE OBVIOUSLY BEEN THINKING ABOUT. SORRY FOR BEING LIKE THIS

#asky #writin stuff

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vaskasrkt · 4 years

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I have a concept up for debate:

So I believe Vision has at least a little memory of before west view, even if he doesn't know it consciously.

In episode 6, he changes to his MCU outfit, how he looked in infinity War. But how would he know what that costume looks like, enough to accurately change it all the way back. Also, the energy to change his outfit comes straight from his stone, showing its a retained memory, considering the mind stone is what gives him life.

I will say, I don't think he remembers dying, I don't think he remembers any of the specifics of what happened before Westview. I just think his subconscious knows minor details.

If he knows absolutely nothing from before Westview, how does he know who he is, that hes in love with Wanda, how does he know Wanda?

He said himself that Wanda can't control his thoughts, so surely if she can't access his mind, she can't implant those memories of himself and her in there...

And she even said herself in episode 7, Right? "if he doesn't want to be here, there's nothing I can do about it"

Also, the fact that he asked who the imposter Pietro was too, when he had no memory of Pietro before Westview. It could be possible that he just knows Wanda isn't sure about pietro being who he says he is, however, Vision isn't the type to straight up call someone an imposter when he doesn't know for sure.

I think Vision is going to start to remember, kind of like a trauma response.

With trauma response, you can argue "but vision is synthetic, he has no brain to create a trauma response." However, with that logic, he would not be able to fall in love.

I have a lot of questions about Vision in particular. I just think he's an incredibly deep character, and I feel like his mind retains more information than he's aware of. He's been inactive/dead for 2 years, his brain probably needs time to reboot back up, kinda like amnesia being common in coma patients.

There's also the whole theory about the name of the cinema in episode 6 being the name of a poem, that poem being an analogy for Wanda trying to fully resurrect Vision because she feels partly responsible for what happened to him. I believe the reason Vision can't leave the Hex is because Wanda is creating him another full mind stone so he can leave it eventually. Wanda has immense power, and the Grand Sorceress states that "the universe cannot exist without the stones". Energy cannot be destroyed or created, but can take different shapes.

The mind stone was confirmed "destroyed" in the MCU by Marvel. Where did Steve take it? It belongs in Vision. He can't just take it out and put it back and expect nothing to happen, it kills Vision to take the stone from him.

Wanda will listen to what Monica has to say, but when Monica asks Wanda to stop, she says no and she's certain about it. I believe the Hex is Wanda's way of creating Vision another mind stone so he can live in the real world again. She's drawing the mind stone's energy to create it another physical form.

Also, Wanda doesn't want more people in the Hex because it takes more and more of her energy to control those people, it's why the further away from the centre they are the less active they are. A powerline can only supply so much power. It's probably why everything around her is breaking in episode 7. She doesn't have enough power to keep it all up anymore whilst still making visions stone fully powered.

What Monica went through when gaining her powers is what Carol went through to get hers. The Hex's perimeter has the same type of power as an infinity stone. There are 6 infinity stones, and 6 points on the Hex's perimeter.

Oop, and Agatha is only interested in whether Wanda can bring back Vision fully because she's a witch, she on and off works with Mephisto in the comics, and she wants to mind stone to gain more power!

This is mostly just a brain dump, and I'm not super knowledgeable on what actually happened to the stones afterwards etc, but I hope thess convoluted few theories make sense!! If anyone wants to talk abt these theories and add maybe some comic context, since I haven't read them, I'd love to hear your opinions.

#wandavision #wanda marvel #marvel #MCU #vision #Wandavision spoilers #Wandavision theory #wanda maximoff #pietro maximoff #agatha harkness #disney #darcy lewis #monica rambeau #jimmy woo

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dindjarindiaries · 4 years

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Bittersweet - Chapter 1: The Headache and a Half

summary: You come into work already preoccupied just to find out there’s a whole other group of people you’ll be working with, and you have to watch Marcus’ eyes wander.

warnings: pining right out of the gate, light angst, kinda-cringey beginning but stick with it, also i really don’t know anything about the fbi and i also only watched the episodes marcus was in so i’m sorry if things look really wrong lol

rating: T

word count: 4.612k

masterlist ⟹ next part

chapter 1: the headache and a half

You stand in the church with both your hands in those of a stranger, a man whose face is hidden from you—but you don’t seem to care about it. You’re dressed in all white with a veil to match, feeling elated yet torn apart at the same time. You don’t know why. You’re getting married and you’re supposed to be happy about that.

Except part of your heart feels empty, as if this isn’t right—as if this shouldn’t be the man standing there. But you don’t even know who this man is. How could you possibly know that?

Your thoughts are broken apart by the sound of the church door flying open and gasps of surprise from the guests. You look and feel your eyes double in size at the sight.

It’s Pike, standing there in all his soft glory, already dressed up for the occasion.

“Wait!” he exclaims. You’re eagerly studying the knit in his brow that shows his desperation and the glow of his dark eyes that beg for you to listen. “Don’t do it.” Marcus stops only when he’s at the base of the altar you’re standing on, his gaze locked in yours as he continues. “I should’ve told you before—so long ago—but I’ll tell you now.” He pauses to take a deep breath. “It’s you. It’s always been you. I’m in love with you.”

There’s another gasp throughout the church, but you feel that hesitance you’d had before finally dissipate at his words—and you realize that’s exactly what you’ve been waiting for. You separate from the man you’re standing across from to smile down at Marcus. “I love you too, Marcus,” you say with a voice full of disbelief and unshed tears. “I always have—and I always will.”

Marcus finally smiles in the same way you do, his eyes smaller yet brighter as they wrinkle up in the way you adore so much. He reaches out a hand to help you get down the steps to meet him, his hands remaining tight in yours as he looks down at you. No words are said—you’ve already spoken enough—and your gazes soon fall to each other’s lips. You lean closer and closer together, already starting to let your eyelids flutter closed, heart racing at the prospect of what’s to come, feeling his breath on your face, when finally—

—your alarm goes off, alerting you to the fact that it’s 7:15 in the morning and you have to get ready for work.

You release a groan as you slap your hand down against the clock, hands reaching for your spare pillow and stuffing it over your face. You scream into it, glad that it drowns out the sounds so your neighbors don’t think you’re being murdered. You might as well be. Having a dream like that makes you wish you were dead because what the hell even was that?

You toss the pillow aside again and sigh heavily, staring at the ceiling as you shake your head. “I’ve been watching too many romcoms,” you tell yourself, running your hands over your face. You haven’t even made it to work yet and you’re already starting to get a headache.

As you roll out of bed and get ready for the day, you think about how this sadly isn’t the first time you’ve had a dream like that. Now, the whole marriage-in-the-church-with-him-bursting-through-the-door is most definitely a newer and deeper context, but having dreams about your work partner of countless years is something you’ve become more and more used to. Thanks to your unrequited feelings for him, you’re bound to keep having dreams like this as long as your heart decides that it wants to torture you day-in and day-out.

But it also doesn’t help that you have to go into the office every day and work side-by-side with the man himself.

Marcus Pike isn’t the type to break your heart—consciously. You’ve known him for a long time, now, having both come into your jobs at the FBI around the same time. Obviously sharing many of the same interests thanks to the art-centered focus of your work, you became close quickly, which was helped by the fact that you were partners. Ever since, you’ve been close friends, and while you wouldn’t exactly coin the term “best friend” for Marcus, you know it’s pretty close—if it wasn’t for your best friend who already takes the spot.

Speaking of the devil, you hear a dinging come from the phone still on your bedside table, and you finish buttoning up your shirt to walk over and see what the notification is. You bite back a smile as you read the message.

andy💞: good morning, miss thing! here’s your daily reminder to make sure you stop dreaming about mr. perfect and get ready for work!😌

You shake your head and feel your cheeks heat up despite the fact Andy’s not even here to see it. She’s been your best friend ever since college, where you met each other at your first party and spilled out all your life problems to each other in the girl’s bathroom after drinking way too much vodka. After freshman year, she became your roommate and your faithful confidante through life. You’ve stayed close, even though she had to move to the city in New York for work and you went to Texas, texting you everyday and calling you at least a few times a week. Recently, she’s been preoccupied with helping you through your pining problems.

me: very funny, andrea. but you don’t even wanna hear about last night’s dream.

You send the message and put the phone down, refusing to entertain whatever curiosity you’ve pulled out of Andy now. Instead, you dwell more on the problems at hand. You wish you could get the image of Marcus bursting into your wedding out of your head, feeling embarrassed at the fact that your subconscious even created it in the first place.

Somewhere along the way of working with Marcus, you started developing feelings that went past the co-worker line. And then the friendship line. And now you don’t even know where the hell it lands. All you know is that you think about him way more than you should. Especially his smile… it’s so bright and downright adorable with that little dimple of his… and when his eyes crinkle up, oh it’s so—.

You stop and look in the mirror where you’re doing your makeup, slapping your own cheek to push those thoughts from your mind.

It happened at some point when you started to talk as more than coworkers, to learn things about Marcus that you know he hasn’t talked to many others about, including his divorce. You know what he’s been through and, in exchange for the deep truths he’s told you, he also knows what you’ve been through. This isn’t including the shared trauma you have at the things you’ve seen and done on the job together. That’s why he’s one of the only people you tolerate in that office.

Well… “tolerate” doesn’t really do your true feelings for Marcus any justice.

You huff as you finish your routine, finally going back out to your room and picking your phone up from the bedside table. There’s another text there and you’re already wishing you could send a punch through the phone.

andy💞: first of all, ‘andrea?’ rude??😤 second of all um ma’am now i NEED to know what happened.

Your gaze drifts to the ceiling for a moment as you release a heavy breath.

me: let’s just say it involved a church and a wedding dress.

You feel embarrassed even typing out the words, but you dread the moment when you see those three dots pop up in a bubble at the corner of the screen.

andy💞: oh shit, don’t tell me you married him LMAO😭

me: it’s worse than that.🤦‍♀️

andy💞: how can it possibly be worse than that???

me: listen, i’ll call you after work and tell you, kay? i gotta go.

You sigh when you lock your phone decisively, gathering the rest of your belongings and heading out of your humble apartment. After you make your way down to the lobby and get into your car, you fall back into the seat with a heavy sigh, groaning when your temples already start to tighten up into a tension headache.

Just what you need to go into work with.

The drive finds you numbly swimming through your thoughts as you go through the typical routine of your everyday suffering. Well, if you’re being honest, that’s a dramatic way to describe it. But still. You can never decide if you’re relieved to get to work and see your partner-of-long or if you’re dreading it. Having to face your partner after dreaming about him is… well, not ideal. You’re grateful that he doesn’t pick up on your awkwardness, though. Or, if he does, he never tells you. You’re equally as grateful for that.

You see a text on your phone from Andy but choose to ignore it, not needing the additional stress nor the reminder of your dream as you park in your usual spot in the garage. You hike your small bag on your shoulder and head inside the building, only taking a moment to refocus yourself once you’re inside the elevator. Your eyes fall closed as you release a heavy sigh, rubbing two of your fingers against each temple as you wiggle your jaw. You hope that the caffeine you know is already awaiting you on your desk will be a relief to the pain you’re experiencing. The doors open and you wince a bit as the fluorescents invade your vision, not helping your headache as you trudge over to your collection of desks.

To your surprise, there’s only the coffee sitting on your desk, still steaming—and no Marcus there to greet you as usual.

You don’t know if you’re grateful for that or saddened by it. All you do is give a light huff as you set down your bag, picking up the mug and giving it a daring taste. It’s perfect just like it always is. Marcus always pays attention to detail. The thought makes you smile—and for a brief moment, it makes you hopeful. Just like it always does. Every single morning.

The feeling quickly fades. You hold tight to your mug as you walk out of the cluster of desks, peering through the glass walls to see where Marcus—and the rest of your team, for that matter—could be. It’s highly unusual for them not to be crowding in a group around somebody’s desk, either studying a new case or trying to look up information on thieves you’ve been hunting for months. You find yourself hit with a large wave of shock when you walk out to see Marcus in one of the floor’s main conference rooms, sitting beside a blonde woman who’s obviously distressed. There are others in there with him who look familiar, but you know they’re not from your team.

They’re from the homicide team. You suddenly feel your headache intensify at the prospect of what this could mean. Through the glass, your gaze meets Marcus’, and his brow lifts as he gives you a look that practically says I’ll explain everything in a second. You give him a nod and draw a long sip from your coffee, holding back a wince when your temples tighten up painfully. The caffeine has to work its magic fast, or else you’ll be clocked out for the day before you’ve even really clocked in.

A few minutes later, you watch as Marcus stands up from his seat, a few others following as he heads out of the conference room. You stand and wait for him to meet you, his dark eyes glittering in a way that already informs you that you’ve got quite the situation on your hands. Once Marcus is in hearing range, you speak out.

“Is that the homicide team?” you question, raising an eyebrow as Marcus walks alongside you back to your cluster of desks.

“Yep,” Marcus answers, popping the “p” as he lets you step inside the glassed-off area first. You lean against your desk as Marcus tosses a pile of files onto his, standing with his hands on his hips in front of you as he continues. “This morning, there was a robbery during the local exhibition setup—including a murder.”

You exhale deeply and force more coffee down your throat, realizing that your physical headache is just the first one you’ll be getting today. “That’s more action than we’re used to.”

“Yeah,” Marcus agrees, crossing his arms now as he takes a quick look outside of the glass. “Now, the homicide team’s stepping in to help us.” He looks back to you. “Which, you know, means they’ll be leading the mission.”

“Obviously,” you murmur. Not that you’re not grateful for their work, but the agents who work in the homicide department have always been hailed as the heroes of the FBI. Patrick Jane is especially the one mentioned by many, with his ability to read people making him particularly noteworthy. You hold back a scoff at them stepping into the art theft department, likely eager to make your work look like some kind of opportunity for them to show off even more. “Not that I’d really want to deal with a murderer on our own.”

“Exactly.” Marcus finally walks over to join you at your side, leaning against your desk as he looks down at you. “How’s your morning been so far?”

You try to hide a smile as you shrug up at him. It’s a question Marcus asks you everyday without fail. “The usual.”

Marcus lifts an eyebrow. “So, getting pestered with texts from Andy?”

You laugh and widen your eyes for dramatic effect, taking another sip of coffee. “You know how the daily ritual goes.” You pause for a moment, debating on whether or not to tell him that you’ve been distracted and stressed all morning to the point of giving yourself a tension headache bad enough to make you sensitive to the fluorescents hanging above you. The only problem is, you know he’ll ask you why—and you don’t have a good lie thought up just yet.

Marcus beats you to it. “What else?” You look into his dark gaze to see it observing you closely, as if he knows something’s wrong. He always does.

Your shoulders sag a little as you stare back out beyond the glass. “I just didn’t sleep well.” You sigh as you pick through your half-lie. “I was stressed about it all morning and now I’ve given myself a headache from hell.” You look back up at him with a slightly-amused expression. “And hearing about this whole joint-operation with the homicide team is—.”

“—not the best remedy.” Marcus finishes the thought for you, giving you a nod in understanding. “I’m sorry. That sucks. Losing sleep is no joke.” He sits up a little taller and gestures with his thumb over towards his desk. “I think I have some stuff for a headache, if you need it.”

You smile gratefully at him. “Thanks, Pike, but that’s probably not the best idea.” When Marcus furrows his brow, you look down at your nearly-empty mug of coffee with shame. “I may or may not have completely forgotten to eat breakfast, so I’m running on an empty stomach.”

Marcus tuts at you, shaking his head with the ghost of a smile on his lips. “You gotta’ start taking better care of yourself, partner.” He fully stands up from the desk, walking over to his. “Thankfully, I’ve got just the thing.” Marcus opens a drawer of his desk to reveal not only the aforementioned bottle of pills, but also a granola bar.

You shake your head as he hands both items to you. “You don’t have to, Pike.”

“I know.” Marcus sticks his hands into his pockets as he lets his smile grow. “But if you’re not gonna take care of yourself, then I will.”

You fight hard to keep the heat from rising to your cheeks as you reach for the bottle of water in your bag and use that to swallow down two of the pills, handing the bottle back to Marcus before unwrapping the granola bar. As you eat it, you question Marcus for more information. “So, what’s on the docket for today, then?”

Marcus sighs and lets his gaze drift to the ceiling, as if he’s picturing the agenda in his mind. “Well, I’ve got a briefing to do with Fischer in about…” Marcus trails off as he looks down to the watch on his wrist, “ten minutes. Then, it’s all up to the homicide team. We’ll basically just be here as resources to help guide them.”

You nod and take another bite of the bar in your hand. “I assume I’ll get all the information I need in the briefing.”

Marcus nods to confirm your words. “I’ll try to make it nice and clear—and I’ll deal with their team.”

You shake your head as you stare up at him. “I couldn’t let you do that, Pike.”

Marcus gives his hand a wave. “It’s fine, partner. I’ll learn their ways—and then we can take them for ourselves.”

You snicker and raise an eyebrow. “So that’s why you want to handle it.”

“Nooo.” Marcus tries to refuse your words, but he does a terrible job as a mischievous smile appears on his lips. “Listen, I’ve got it, alright? Unless you wanna help.”

You scoff and finish off the granola bar. “No offense to them, but I’m not feeling particularly eager to work with a whole other department when this one’s got me crazed enough.”

Marcus laughs, patting your shoulder before he picks his files back up from his desk. He moves to head off, but stops in front of you, looking into your gaze seriously. “Hang in there. I’ll try to keep things short and sweet so we can get in and get out.” You give him a nod, and he pats your shoulder again before walking off towards the briefing room. You release a sigh and close your eyes for a moment, trying not to overthink his friendly actions nor remember what you’d dreamt about just hours before. You’re unsuccessful in both and it starts to reverse the effects of the pills you’ve taken.

Minutes later, you’re heading off to the briefing room yourself, taking a seat somewhere far away from the small crowd that’s closest to Marcus and Kim Fischer of the homicide department. You take out your notebook and release a soft breath, the tip of your pen bouncing against the paper as you wait for the clock to strike upon the hour. While you appreciated Marcus’ help in aiding your headache, it still hasn’t faded, and the way you’re clenching your jaw right now is surely a reason as to why. But you can’t help it. You feel on edge more than ever with this situation involving a whole other department—and you feel like something’s off.

During the briefing, you realize what.

Sitting just in front of Marcus is another famed agent from the homicide team, Teresa Lisbon. That’s a name you’ve heard more commonly in break rooms when you’re refilling your coffee and end up hearing the gossip of the building. Her name is almost always associated with Jane’s and you’ve caught on to the fact that—in a way quite similar to you and Marcus, actually—they’ve been partners forever and it’s led many to believe that they’re an item. But it still hasn’t happened. And now, you watch as her and Marcus share more than a few gazes during the meeting.

But you’re probably overthinking this. Right?

Yeah, you think to yourself, because the crazy woman who has romantic dreams of her partner at night gets to judge another woman and get jealous if she shares a few gazes with her partner. Totally entitled to all of that.

You roll your eyes at yourself and lean your elbow against the armrest of your chair, willing all your strength not to close your eyes and hide yourself from the sight.

Marcus sticks to his word and keeps what he has to say short and sweet. You write down whatever’s important but let yourself tune out what you don’t think is as necessary. You’re not usually the type to space out during briefings—you’ve always been known for your precision—but this situation feels far out of your hands as an art theft agent and more in the hands of those who sit around you. Once the briefing ends, you nearly exclaim a hallelujah, standing from your chair and beelining for your desk. A few moments after you plop down into your chair, Marcus appears yet again, his hands resting on the edge of the desk as you smile up at him.

“Nicely done, Agent Pike,” you inform him, watching as he gives you a nod in thanks. “So, it’s their move next?”

“Yeah,” Marcus confirms your words. “They’re making a plan, and they’re letting me in on it.”

You furrow your brow. “And not me?”

Marcus hesitates, his dark eyes searching yours as he lets out a soft sigh. “Yes, you, but here’s the thing.” Marcus crosses his arms as you anticipate his explanation. “You don’t seem like yourself today—so I want you to catch up on your sleep.” You’re about to argue when Marcus continues. “It’s okay, it happens, and nobody has to know.” Marcus lowers his voice as he goes on. “You can head home for a while, sleep as much as you need to, and if you feel up for it, you can come back tonight and join me here. Does that sound good? Or am I being a patronizing prick?”

You chuckle a bit at that and shake your head, giving him a small and relieved smile. “That sounds great, Pike. Thank you so much.”

Marcus simply nods again, reaching across your desk to pat your shoulder before he heads away. You release a sigh and stand up from your chair, hanging your bag on your shoulder as you make your escape. Your head is still pounding and your eyelids feel heavier at the idea of getting to sleep as you step onto the elevator. You can’t bring yourself to think of what you’ll miss but you do know that you feel embarrassed at the cause of your physical suffering. If Marcus knew, he probably wouldn’t be this kind to you about it.

Who are you kidding. It’s Marcus. He’d probably be even nicer about it.

As you walk to your car, you finally unlock your phone, seeing a leftover text from Andy.

andy💞: you better. i’m off work today, so i’ll be waiting.🥱

You shake your head as you sit inside, clipping your phone into the hands-free contraption suctioned to your windshield as you take off and call Andy. It only rings once before she picks up.

“Finally!” Andy exclaims overdramatically. “But also, shouldn’t you be working right now?”

“I should,” you agree, keeping your eyes on the road as you navigate your way back to your apartment, “but Pike sent me home to get some sleep.”

“He—what?” Andy’s obviously confused. “Did you tell him about the dream, or—?”

“No, Andy!” Your answer comes quick and loud. “Why the hell would I ever do that?”

“I don’t know! So that you’re not lying to him all the time?”

“That’d be awkward as hell. I’m never doing that.” You huff as you turn your wheel. “Anyway, Marcus just reads me well. He could tell I was off. I mean, I do have a headache that’s bordering dangerously on a migraine.”

“A Marcus-induced migraine?”

You bite your lip and tighten your hands around the wheel in annoyance at both yourself and Andy. “Possibly.”

Andy chuckles a bit on the other end of the line. “Ah, his power. If only he knew.”

“He won’t.”

“But can I? You still haven’t explained what happened!”

And so, in the time it takes for you to reach your apartment, you explain to Andy everything about your dream and what you could of what’s happened since then. Andy, of course, goes crazy over your romcom-esque dream, and she squeals at the drama of the situation you’re currently in with a whole other department filling your shoes. You even mention the looks you’d witnessed between Marcus and Teresa earlier.

“They gazed at each other? Multiple times?” Andy gasps dramatically. “How scandalous.”

“Shut up,” you wince, parking your car and trapping your phone between your ear and your shoulder as you get out. “Look, I’m sure it’s nothing and I’m just overthinking it, but… I know she’s got some kind of history with her partner and if something really does go down, I don’t wanna see Marcus get hurt again.”

“Or, you just wanna see him with you.”

You sigh and push your way inside your apartment building. “Fair point. That’s probably why I’m overthinking it.”

“I think you might be, Miss Thing. This isn’t a Jane Austen novel. They probably just looked at each other because briefings sound boring as hell and they didn’t know where else to look.”

“Probably.” You whimper once you get into your apartment and inside your bedroom, flopping down onto the bed as you close your eyes. “I feel so pathetic and creepy talking about Marcus like this, Andy. I shouldn’t be analyzing his every breath.”

“Hey, that’s what happens when you like someone. It’s fine. You’ll live, he’ll live, and life will work its way out. For now, you should probably take Marcus’ advice and sleep.”

You nod to agree, despite the fact Andy can’t see you. “Yeah, you’re right. I’ll talk to you later, Andy. Love ya’.”

“Love you more, girl. Sleep well and try not to dream of Marcus for once.”

You snort and shake your head. “I will.” You hang up and let out a deep breath, your brow furrowing together as you notice a new text notification. You open it up and you hate the way your heart practically leaps at the sight of Marcus’ contact name.

marcus🥞: Make sure you get some quality sleep, partner. Things are getting… interesting here and I miss having you around. I have a lot to fill you in on once you get here.

You smile to yourself as you type your response.

me: you got it, pike. try not to have too much fun without me. just pretend i’m there to roll my eyes.🙄

You start to let yourself settle into bed—regardless of your work clothes—and take one last look at your phone before you comply with Marcus’ request.

marcus🥞: I’ll try my best.🥴 Text me with how you’re feeling when you wake up.

me: roger that👍

You bite back a smile as you put your phone on your bedside table and relax against your pillow, already feeling your headache starting to fade in the face of Marcus’ kindness—and completely unknowing of the one that’s awaiting you the moment you step back into that building.

masterlist ⟹ next part

if you’d like to be added to the bittersweet tag list, let me know!

permanent tag list: @mikahid @bestintheparsec @stilllivindue2spite @givemethatgold @xbrujita @mandalorianspace @blushingwueen @sevvysaurus @myakai13 @thisis-theway @beskars @rachelloveseveryone @theindiealto @hiscyarika @burningsoulbloodyheart @wickedfrsgrl @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @bookwafflefangirl @charliepeaceout @cable-kenobi @ezraslittleblondestreak @hdlynn @your-pixels-are-showing @b0n-chann @nettyklecan @javier-djarin @chibi-liz05

#i didn't edit this i'm sorry lol but uh #yeehaw?#how we feelin?#idk how i feel but i promise it'll get better and less cringey lol #marcus pike #marcus pike x reader #the mentalist #dindjarindiaries #bittersweet fic

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galactic-magick · 4 years

Text

Not So Different: Virgil x Reader

Request: Can I get uhh new side (Pride?) Who is female and everyone is surprised and it's virgil x reader and lots of him being jealous even tho u aren't together and angst and him being the big spoon and stuff ty mwah (sorry if this is badly written I'm going on 1 hours of sleep in the past 2 days hahaha okay - @hhh-angels

Summary: You are Thomas’s prideful side, and you immediately bond with Roman for obvious reasons. Virgil doesn’t like that very much…

Words: 1400+

Warnings: angst, jealousy

Author’s Notes: I hope you like this! There’s a few time-skips cuz I wanted it to be kinda slow-burn and build up the angst lol. (Also I’d just like to say there is no Roman hate here! He’s kinda viewed as the bad guy in this but I promise I love him plz don’t come after me)

“Hi!” you pop up next to Roman, waving to Thomas. Everyone jumps, but you’re so happy to actually be here that you don’t mind their intense reaction. Deceit’s done a great job at hiding you for years, and you’re finally getting to reveal your existence.

You represent Thomas’s pride. You’re not really either a light or dark side, since pride can be used in so many different ways. Pride can be used for good, such as when Thomas is confident in his achievements, ideas, and sexuality. But if it gets too strong, it can become an issue. Excessive pride can lead to being self-absorbed, insensitive, and arrogant, and unfortunately that may be the reason you’re here.

“I’m sorry, who are you?” Thomas asks.

“I’m your pride!” you grin. “But you can just call be Y/N,”

Roman looks you up and down, “But, why are you-?”

“A girl? I just felt like presenting myself this way. Do you need me to change?”

“No, no, of course not! We can sing Disney duets together!” You and Roman immediately start singing “A Whole New World.”

Virgil rolls his eyes.

Thomas stares in disbelief, “I’m still confused, why are you here? Where did you come from?”

“You tell me, Thomas,” you laugh, continuing to sing with Roman.

“Did you guys know about her?”

“Not particularly, no,” Logan and the other sides shake their heads.

“Virgil? Is she another dark side?”

“Not exactly,” he sighs. “But I- I should’ve been able to stop her,”

“Why?”

“Yeah, why, Virgil?” your singing stops and you meet his gaze.

“I’m the one who’s supposed to balance out Thomas’s ego with self-consciousness and insecurity,”

“Who needs that,” Roman scoffs.

“Actually, he does need it,” Logan corrects, pulling up a chart. “Think of it as a modified Yerkes-Dodson curve. With anxiety, one side of the extreme is complete carelessness, and the other is full-on panic. With pride, one side would be self-loathing, and the other would be narcissism. Ideally, everyone should be in the middle, having confidence in yourself but not so much that you become ignorant or put others down,”

“Is she here because…I’m on the second side?”

“Oh no…” Patton mumbles.

“Nonsense! I see nothing wrong with Y/N being here,” Roman objects, draping an arm around your shoulders. Virgil cringes a bit.

“Technically, Roman is correct,” Logan admits hesitantly. “As long as you don’t listen to her excessively, nothing detrimental will come of her presence,”

“Okay…” Thomas exhales.

“Her getting too close to Roman is what you really need to worry about,” Virgil grumbles.

“Hey! I thought you guys were past this?”

“Maybe not,”

“Well fine, Virgil, we’ll go if you have such a big problem with us,” Roman sneers, taking your hand and sinking down.

Over the next few weeks, you and Roman have become best friends. You’ve written approximately 15 musicals together now, sung every single Disney song multiple times, and have brainstormed millions of ideas on how to help Thomas achieve his dreams in the most extravagant way possible.

“I don’t know how much longer I can take this obnoxious behavior,” Logan closes his book and slams it on the table. You and Roman are very loudly reenacting Hamilton in his room at the moment, and the noise is filling the entire mind palace.

“They’re just having fun, Logan!” Patton shrugs, playing some Go Fish with Virgil.

“Come on, Patton, you know Roman’s just going to corrupt her,” Virgil groans.

“Now, Virgil, I may have had my doubts before but there’s no need to be mean,”

“I’ve had it,” Logan stands up and stomps over to Roman’s door. “CAN I PLEASE HAVE SOME PEACE AND QUIET FOR THIRTY MINUTES?!”

With that, no one so much as breathes loudly for the rest of the day.

It’s probably way past midnight now, but you still can’t sleep. You head to the kitchen to grab a snack, jumping when you see Virgil there as well.

“What are you doing here?” you shriek.

“I could ask you the same thing,”

“I suppose so,” you grin, hoisting yourself up to sit on the counter. “I guess I wouldn’t mind the company,”

“I usually come down here to be alone,”

“Look, I know you hate me, but you could just kindly ask me to leave,”

“I don’t hate you,”

“You don’t?”

“No!” he sighs, rubbing his eyes. “Are you really so self-absorbed that you think if people aren’t all over you they hate you?”

“Excuse me?” you shoot back. “I’m pretty sure you directly said you didn’t want me around!”

“I did not say that. I said you need to be under control, and teaming up with Roman is not going to help that,”

“What’s wrong with Roman?”

“Can’t you see he’s using you? He only likes you because you’re so similar and you can sing princess songs with him!”

“And how is that bad, exactly?” you retaliate. “He’s the only one who’s been nice to me since I got here, so sorry if my choice in friends isn’t to your standards,”

“It’s just-“

“You know what, Virgil? I really thought we would get along. We both have the capacity for good and evil, and we both help to balance Thomas out. We have a lot more in common than you think,” you slide off the counter and walk out.

You and Virgil don’t speak for a while after that. Not that you talked a lot before, but that fight really solidified things. You can’t even make eye contact with each other, it’s like you’re not even there.

Roman keeps asking you what’s wrong, but you just shrug him off. How are you supposed to tell him that he’s part of the problem? That maybe if you weren’t so close, Virgil would consider talking to you?

You never meant any harm when you revealed yourself. You really thought you’d be able to get along with all the sides, but it seems that Roman’s the only one who celebrates who you are. Logan barely tolerates you, and that’s only when you’re not being obnoxious with Roman. Patton’s alright with you, but he gets a little jittery if you suggest anything that compromises his morals. And then there’s Virgil, and you know how that’s going.

You don’t really feel like you have to apologize, it’s not in your nature anyway, but you’re sick of having to avoid him all the time now. You need to talk to him again whether he likes it or not.

You swing open the door to his room without knocking and sit on the bed, “Hi,”

“Is privacy just something you don’t understand?”

“It appears so,” you laugh. “Look Virgil, I know you’re mad at me, and honestly I’m mad at you too, but I don’t want to be anymore,” You take a deep breath, “I like you. I wish we had a better start, but I’m willing to start over,”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes,” you scoot closer to him. “And I told Roman to leave us alone for the rest of the day, so don’t worry about him,”

“You didn’t have to do that,”

“I know I didn’t. But I did. So do you want to hang out or not?”

“I guess so-“ before he can finish, you grab his hand and drag him out of his room to the main area of the mind palace.

“You pick a movie, I’m gonna go steal some of Patton’s cookies,” Virgil watches you, stunned, before flopping on the couch and scrolling through the selection. He starts one as you sit down next to him, handing him some cookies.

“Just want to make sure, you actually want to hang out with me?”

“Yes, Virgil. If I didn’t I wouldn’t have asked,” you drape a blanket over the two of you and settle in.

As the movie goes on, you subconsciously rest your head on his shoulder. He stiffens immediately and you jerk back up.

“Oh my gosh I’m so sorry-“

“N-no, it’s fine,” he releases his breath. “I’m just…not used to people doing that,”

By the time the movie’s over, you’re fully asleep and Virgil freezes again, unsure what to do. Should he carry you to your room? Leave you here to sleep? Wake you up?

He slowly wraps his arms around your waist and lies down with you, being careful not to make any sudden movements. Despite his efforts, you squirm a bit in your sleep, but thankfully you don’t open your eyes. He fits his chin in the crook of your neck and dozes off himself.

He knows you didn’t have to give him a second chance, but you did. You were right, you weren’t so different after all, and he’ll always be thankful for the opportunity to be something more to you.

#virgil sanders x reader #virgil sanders #sanders sides x reader #sanders sides #thomas sanders

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ambersky0319 · 5 years

Note

Uhm, heya. I saw that you were accepting prompts? I have a Loceit one if you want to do it. -Since Deceit is the one known to be the Side who decides whom Thomas meets, perhaps not all of them are happy that he won't let them meet Thomas. Perhaps one of them find out about his not-so-tiny crush on the Logical Side and kidnaps him to use against Deceit? Maybe even hurts Logan a bit to piss him off. 💙💛 You don't have to do the prompt if you can't. Also, I wanna say that I love your writing ❤️

This was actually really fun to write and it’s over 3k words long- also it’s more pre-loceit but like, very close to them getting together?? You’ll see what I mean. Hope you all enjoy!

Warnings : Literal embodiment of Repression, blood/blood mentions(fairly brief), kidnapping, morally gray sides excluding Logan and Deceit, ask if I should add anything else!

Masterpost

——————————–

Logan’s head throbbed as he slowly regained consciousness. He bit his lip as the pain only grew, and he lifted his head up slightly, squinting. He was surrounded by a muted and dull brown on all sides, with walls decorated in nothing but filing cabinet after cabinet. Logan furrowed his brow, he didn’t recognize where he was, and couldn’t recall what had even happened.

Maybe Remus had hit him over the head with his morning star, trying to surprise attack Logan again? But Logan could always dodge those. And even when he was hit, he’d never gone unconscious. Remus wouldn’t really have any use of trying him up and leaving him in this dull of a room, either.

“Ah, you’re awake!”

Logan snapped his head to the side at the voice, wincing as his vision grew dizzy for a moment. His captor tutted, shaking his head. “I’d be careful, Logic darling, don’t want to be in so much pain so soon! Besides, I kinda need you to be able to see everything I intend to do.”

The side was dressed in all orange in varying tones. He was much shorter than Logan, even when Logan was tied to the chair Logan was still about a head taller than this side. But that’s not what struck Logan, no. It was the fact that the side had what appeared to be scars all over his face, but the scars were like portals into a bright, painful orange galaxy. What seemed to be stars swirled in these patches of skin, and the side raised a brow when he realized Logan wasn’t listening to him.

“Logic, you should really stop being so curious.” The side hissed, resting his hand on Logan’s shoulder. The gloves he was wearing a moment earlier disappeared, and he squeezed Logan’s shoulder tightly. Logan’s eyes widened, but when he tried to speak, nothing came out but a slight squeak and his throat suddenly felt numb. The side laughed at Logan’s worried expression, and Logan had never seen a smile on anyone look so sinister.

“Wonderful what I can do, yes? Oh, but losing your voice is only the start, Logic. I can do so much more.” The side released Logan’s shoulder, trailing his hand up to grip Logan’s jaw. His smile disappeared. “But I need to remember to not hurt you too badly, make sure you’re still useful to Thomas. And make sure you’re still pretty enough for Deceit to want to save you.” He tilted his head. “I doubt he’d be happy if he knew I scratched you up.”

Logan’s expression morphed to one of confusion, and the side stared into Logan’s eyes for a long moment, as though reading Logan like Logan was an open child’s book. “You don’t know, do you?” When Logan’s expression didn’t change, the side cackled. “Oh! This is going to be more fun than I thought!” He began to trail his fingers down Logan again, stopping at where his heart was.

He grinned. “You know, Logic, you’re very lucky I was the one to take you. Imagine what you can tell the others once you go back up there, and they start fretting over you. You were repressed. Imagine that, logic being repressed?” The side, Repression Logan now assumed, hummed as he began to unbutton Logan’s shirt to have better access to his chest. Logan could only stare at the side and feel his heart rate increase as he began to feel the panic creeping up on him.

Repression pushed the shirt back, and Logan shivered as his cold fingers gently moved across his bare skin. He returned his hand to where it had been above Logan’s heart, and he traced the area, scratching the pale skin there. “Though maybe no one will fret over you. They haven’t noticed you gone just yet, and it’s already been about a day. Do you want to know what they’ve done without you, Logic?”

The side stared up at Logan with feigned innocence, and when Logan shook his head slightly, the side grinned. “You don’t want to know, do you? You’re afraid that they were happier without you, that Thomas was happier without you there. You don’t want to know because you don’t want all of your irrational thoughts to wind up actually being true.” Logan was starting to hyperventilate as Repression continued to speak, digging his nails into Logan’s skin further, starting to draw blood.

“I’m going to reveal everything to you, Logic. Each little thought that you’ve had that is true. What the others really think about you. I’ll show you how Thomas really feels when you come up to ruin all their fun. And you know what? I bet I can do it before anyone even realizes you’re gone.” He laughed slightly. “Well, everyone but Deceit. I need Deceit to know you’re gone. If he didn’t, then this would all be pointless.”

Repression finally drew his fingers away from Logan’s chest. His nails were coated in a thin layer of blood, and Logan felt as if his heart had suddenly become heavy, like a rock was lodged in his chest instead.

He examined his fingers. “I’m going to need more of your blood…” he trailed off for only a moment before a small knife appeared in his hand. “Surely you don’t mind, do you Logic?” Repression didn’t wait for Logan to even attempt to protest before he started cutting at Logan’s exposed shoulder.

—

“Shit, shit, shit, shit-” Deceit hissed to himself as he read the note again, trying to remember who’s handwriting was staring back up at him. He hadn’t anticipated for this to happen, hell, he didn’t get why any of the hidden sides wanted to be introduced to Thomas! He wasn’t only just doing his job, keeping them away, but he was protecting them! Deceit knew that Thomas would never listen to them because they were dark sides.

The note, written in dark red ink that was unmistakably dried blood, was a demand. A demand Deceit knew he couldn’t fulfill if he wanted to keep Thomas safe. But he couldn’t keep Thomas safe if the embodiment of logic was taken hostage and was being repressed-

“Fucking hell Res!” Deceit hissed, everything coming together now. Oh, this wasn’t good. Not one bit.

Deceit looked at the television, black because Thomas was asleep now. But it all made sense. Today Thomas had been recording a video, and Logan hadn’t popped in once. It seemed the others didn’t notice the shift or maybe thought Logan was just busy with other things. But some of the things Thomas had said earlier, and then agreeing to everything Patton, Virgil, and Roman said instantly without much thought? That was unusual, even for their host.

He muttered a few more choice curses before crumpling the note up and throwing it in the trash bin, attempting to summon none other than Repression.

Res popped up after a minute of Deceit waiting, bouncing on his heels and looking up at the deceptive side. Res grinned at Deceit. “Hello, Dee! Did you by any chance need something?” It took all of Deceit’s willpower to not grab Res by his infuriatingly bright scarf and punch him. Instead, Deceit glared down at Res.

“Where’s Logan?”

Res hummed, his grin morphing into a smirk. “Nowhere, really. Why? Afraid that I’ve hurt your sweet and precious Logic?”

Deceit’s glare only grew harsher. “Considering your note was written in blood-”

“That wasn’t my question and you know it.” Res held back his laugh as he saw Deceit only growing angrier. But he brought this upon himself. All Deceit had to do was reveal him to Thomas, if he had done it before this would have all been avoided. “I doubt you’d actually tell me, but I know you are afraid. It’s so easy to read. I even told him how you would be the only one to worry he was gone. Well, that and a few other details.” The much shorter orange side leaned against the couch, watching Deceit carefully.

“Where is he, Res.” It wasn’t a question. A demand. Res frowned.

“You know this isn’t how it works, Dee! You can’t start demanding things without answering my demands.”

“Res, this isn’t funny!”

Res tilted his head. “I never said it was a joke. The situation is quite serious, actually, and we both know it.”

“You would put Thomas in danger, just so you could have five minutes of glory before everyone up there started to ignore you just like they do Remus and I?”

“They wouldn’t get the chance to keep me quiet, and you know that. But I also don’t think you’re just concerned for Thomas.”

“Of course I am! Logan is an essential part of Thomas and you know damn well know that you know exactly what thoughtless decisions were made today, and which ones will be made tomorrow if Logan isn’t there to fix everything.”

“No, you’re concerned because you like him, Deceit. Do you really think I took Logic because of Thomas?” Res shook his head. “No, it’s because out of all the sides that Thomas knows of, you like Logic, and would most likely do anything to ensure he’s safe. But now…” Res laughed, grinning from ear to ear. “But now he isn’t! And guess what? It’s all because of you, Dee, because you wouldn’t listen to me when I told you to let me meet Thomas.”

Deceit clenched his fists, taking in a deep breath as Res just laughed again. He hated how Res was right. Deceit, although he truly did fear for what this would do to Thomas, that was a fear second place to just losing Logan at all.

He really, really wanted to punch Res. To shun him to the Subconscious again. But then Deceit would never find Logan, at least for a few years. That couldn’t happen.

“Fine. But on one condition.” Res stopped laughing abruptly as Deceit spoke, tilting his head and narrowing his eyes.

“No demands, Dee.”

“It isn’t a demand, really. Just a compromise.”

Res held Deceit’s gaze before slowly caving in. “What is it?”

“If you take me to Logan first, we can all go up and introduce you, and only you to Thomas.” Deceit held out one of his hands. “Do we have a deal?”

Res considered it for a moment, looking Deceit up and down as if trying to see Deceit was lying. He thought he was picking up on a lie, but Deceit was a walking lie, so Res assumed that it was nothing, and he shook Deceit’s hand.

Before he could say anything else, Res forced Deceit to sink down with him. They appeared in Res’s library, a maze full of memories that Thomas no longer remembered because they were just really really old, unimportant, or excruciatingly traumatic.

“He’s right this way.” Res didn’t let go of Deceit’s hand as he pulled him down one of the hallways with shocking strength coming from someone so small.

It didn’t take long to get to where Logan was, and Deceit cringed at the sight of dried blood over Logan’s shoulders. He broke out of Res’s hold to rush over to Logan, checking for a pulse when he saw that Logan’s eyes were closed. His anger returned to the surface when more marks covering Logan reached his eyes, and he glared at Res for even daring to harm a hair on his head. Res rolled his eyes.

“What? How else was I gonna get all those repressed emotions up? Logic is like a damn rock, and I needed to… dig deep, to get the prettiest wonders to the surface.”

“Just help me untie him!” Deceit hissed, and Res obeyed without much complaint. He watched Logan slump into Deceit’s arms, and Res was surprised Logan had passed out in the first place. He thought he’d shot Logan up with enough adrenaline to keep him awake for another two hours. Maybe the logical side just had an extremely low tolerance to actual pain.

Deceit sunk out without another word, and Res tried to follow.

His eyes widened when he didn’t move. “Fuck,” he whispered when the filing cabinets of memories slowly started to grow black again. He really should have seen this coming, and not pushed aside Deceit’s minor lie.

—

When Logan woke up again, he wasn’t in any pain. He knew just by the feeling around him he wasn’t in Repression’s room any longer. For one, he was lying down. But another reason was he was under a blanket and his head was resting on an incredibly soft pillow. He slowly opened his eyes and was greeted with a ceiling painted to look like the canopies of a jungle.

“You’re awake already?”

Logan tilted his head just as the bed shifted, and Deceit smiled down at him sadly. Logan blinked at him for a few moments, unsure of how to react.

“I honestly expected you to be out a bit longer, Res’s domains typically have that effect on sides.” Deceit frowned, before moving Logan’s shirt out of the way slightly and Logan actually flinched away. Deceit drew back slowly. “It’s okay, just wanted to make sure they weren’t leaving any scars.”

Logan just turned to stare up at the ceiling again. “How long have I been out?”

“Repressed, or unconscious?”

“Both.”

“About three days.” Logan groaned quietly at that number. It was small, but he knew how devastating that could be for Thomas. Deceit was quick to reassure him though. “He didn’t do anything drastically stupid, Remus managed to freak Virgil out about the different possibilities that Virgil was able to prevent Thomas from doing anything stupid. Though Thomas might have like…. five cavities he couldn’t stop Thomas from eating only sweets for the entire three days.”

Silence once again took over Deceit’s room, and Deceit couldn’t do more than just watch Logan process the information. He bit his lip gently. “Logan?”

“Hm?”

“What did Res tell you, exactly?”

Logan caught Deceit’s gaze again, and he moved a bit to sit up as he thought, trying to remember.

“Mainly confirming my suspicions that the others don’t care about me.” Logan didn’t notice his eyes tearing up, and oddly he didn’t care if Deceit knew his insecurities anymore. Maybe Repression had cut deeper into him than he had thought. “That I just ruined there fun. He showed me some of the unedited content from… I guess the other day. Everyone just seemed so happy, and he wouldn’t stop saying that I was holding Thomas back.” Logan took a deep breath, finally feeling the tears. He didn’t make a move to wipe them away, not yet anyway.

“He went through each of you, too. Starting with the others, and he ended with you. He spent the most time on you.” Logan laughed, though it didn’t have a hint of happiness. It was just sad and broken, almost hysterical. “He- he kept lying, telling me that you liked me, he tried to get my hopes up, and he told me so many times, oh god… each time he cut deeper, he said it was because you liked me and he needed me to get to you and out of everything, I can’t believe he kept lying about it! Out of all my repressed hopes, he chose the one that I knew would never be true to use!” Logan’s laugh turned into actual sobs, and he pulled his knees to his chest, burying his face there as he continued to shake.

Deceit hesitantly moved closer, settling beside Logan. “Logan, Res wasn’t lying.” Deceit’s voice was soft, but he knew Logan heard when Logan glanced back to him.

“What?”

“He wasn’t lying. Res took you, because of me.”

Logan attempted to stop crying, but the tears just kept flowing as he sniffled. He lifted his head from his knees though. “I don’t understand.”

Deceit sighed, running his hand through his hair- Logan only just noticed Deceit wasn’t wearing gloves, in fact, he wasn’t wearing any of his usual garments. Instead, he was in a yellow sweater and some black sweatpants, hat and gloves nowhere in sight. “This isn’t- this is the worst possible way for you to find out. I’m so sorry that you found out like this, Logan, that it happened in the first place.

"Res took you specifically because he knew I liked you. And he thought this would be the best way to get me to let him meet Thomas. You getting hurt by him is all my fault.”

“You’re lying,” Logan stated, shaking his head. “You must be.”

Deceit shook his own head. “I would never lie in this situation, Logan.”

Logan took a shaky breath, looking away from Deceit again and to the wall opposite him. It was a massive enclosure, and he could see one of Deceit’s snakes from where he sat.

He was trying to process how he felt. His crush just confirmed that he reciprocated, but also just said that it was all his fault that Logan had been taken in the first place. Logan couldn’t see how Deceit could have prevented the situation though. Or had known it was ever going to happen. Which meant that it wasn’t Deceit’s fault. He was still trying to wrap his mind around everything that had happened, plus the new information that Deceit did indeed like him.

Logan groaned, burying his face in his knees again. “Why are emotions so annoying?” He asked.

“I guess that’s why you had them repressed,” Deceit said gently. Logan heard the sadness enter his voice as Deceit continued. “Um, I understand if you want to go back to your room, Logan. I’m sure everyone else would be overjoyed to see you, after all-”

“No.”

“W-What?” Deceit stared at Logan in confusion as Logan sniffled again, lifting his head once more from his knees and wiping away the last of his tears. His eyes were puffy from rubbing them so much.

“I don’t want to go. Not yet, anyway.” He looked back to Deceit. “I want to be in here, with you.”

“But- wait, why?”

“Did you miss the part where I said I thought Res had tried to get my hopes up that you liked me, and I thought he was lying until you just said that he wasn’t?” Deceit still seemed confused, but he seemed to be understanding at least a little bit. “Dee, I like you too, and I’d like to spend some time with you, y'know.”

Deceit blinked a few times before the human side of his face flushed a light pink. “Oh.”

“Also the others are too intense, and I don’t think I could handle them right now…”

Deceit laughed lightly. “Alright. Um, want to watch a documentary then? And then we can talk more about… us, when you’re feeling a lot better?”

Logan smiled softly, a genuine smile, and he nodded.

——————————–

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buckyreaderrecs · 5 years

Text

So Far Away: Chapter 1/?

Summary: Bucky Barnes doing what he does best. Saving. Loving. In this particular case, the object of both is you. (Bonus: Bucky Barnes happy, healing, doing really well!)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/reader Characters: Bucky Barnes Additional tags: mostly canon compliant (Infinity War and Endgame didn’t happen, Stark Tower still exists), possible future smut (who knows, not me), she/her pronouns, more tags/characters to be added with future chapters, hero Bucky Barnes, canon typical violence, warzone/disaster zone setting Warnings: possible triggers for anxiety, PTSD, grief

Note: I don’t know where I’m going with The Girl With Too Much Power (ideas welcomed) so here’s my other series. Feedback always encouraged and welcome. Thank ya’ll! xo Rhi

Tag list: just @darlingtholland lel

So Far Away Chapter 1 / ?

The city was crumbling and between the crashing sounds of buildings toppling, screams and cries were painfully audible. That wasn't the most terrifying part though. It wasn't the lifeless bodies lying in the streets or the sight of your mangled hand that were causing you to panic. It was that everything was happening somewhere else. The crumbling and screaming seemed so far away. If the action was elsewhere, so were the heroes.

Nobody was coming to save you.

For almost half an hour they'd ripped through the city unchallenged; nobody really counted the unified effort of the first responders. They never stood a chance against the enemy from above. It took ten minutes for The Avengers to hear about it. They were en route within another ten. Even with all that Stark tech though, it still took them just over eleven minutes to arrive, landing and launching into action.

You'd watched the heroes bounce off buildings and fly through the sky. They represented hope, but they couldn't save everyone.

The evacuation wasn't fast enough and whole blocks of the city were wiped off the map. By the time you'd crawled out of the rubble of yours, the trucks taking people to safety were long gone. In their wake, tire tracks in the dirt and dust, and bodies left behind to save room for the living.

You could walk, but terrified that someone… something… would circle back around, you dropped down behind a car that had been violently propelled across the street. Making yourself as small as possible, pulling your legs up to your chest and burying your face in your lap, you just listened. Thinking was too hard, and your thoughts were sure to be only dark and anxiety-inducing anyway.

It all seemed so far away.

Then, the tell-tale sound of trouble. No no no no no! you screamed in your head, covering your mouth with your hands to not let the terror out.

It was moving fast, but tearing everything up as it went. The sound coming from it was alien, but it still someone seemed like speech. It was communicating with the others. Then, you realised, it was looking for something. Sitting in a pile of bricks and glass, all you could do was hope to god that creatures from literal outer space didn't come to Earth in search of an old Ford.

Bits of debris came from over the car, rejected by the creature and cast aside. First, rocks and chunks of cement - too big for any human to throw so easily. They hit the building in front of you and shattered. A bad situation got worse when it dug deep enough to find the people who had been trapped under fallen buildings. Bodies flew over you, sometimes in parts.

After what felt like minutes but was only seconds, your entire body was shaking with abject horror. On the very cusp of losing consciousness from fear and blood loss, you heard one foreign sound. It was almost like a gunshot… but more… Star Wars-esque. It was immediately proceeded by silence.

Run! the voice in your head told you, but you were completely immobile.

"This thing's too damn light… Feels like a fuckin' toy," a human voice spoke. A pause for, presumably, a reply you didn't hear. "Yeah, it worked. Not the point." Another pause. "Call me that again, Stark and I'll-" The speaker abruptly stopped his conversation.

You hadn't heard him arrive. Unsurprisingly, you did not hear him as he walked through the destroyed street to the car you were hidden behind. To any other person, you were silent. However, he could hear the slight crunching of gravel beneath your feet, the air being inhaled and exhaled from your nose, and the tiny squeaks you were making entirely subconsciously.

Moving slowly, he made his way around the side of the car using footsteps that would make noise, announce his arrival. Don't scare her. You could feel him standing just metres from you. He spoke, but not to you.

"I got a friendly… She's out of the evac zone." The pause for reply was long. "It's a ghost town here. Nobody's gonna be coming through for-" He was interrupted. "Don't care. Gonna bring her in."

Again, he moved slowly.

Your face was still buried and although you knew it was somebody good crouching in front of you, everything was all too overwhelming to respond.

"Hi… I don't need ya to move just yet. Gonna have a look at your hand, if that's alright?"

His voice was calm. Far beyond the point of being in shock, it didn’t hurt when he gently took your arm. As he tightly wrapped your injured hand, you began to unwrap yourself. Lifting your head and opening your eyes, everything came into focus. Mostly, everything you could see was war. But, there he was. Easily recognisable, Bucky Barnes was finishing first aid on you.

His eyes lingered on the bandage for a moment, and you wondered where he'd stashed it before it stopped your bleeding. Did he have pockets of band-aids?

When he looked up at you, you were already looking back.

"Hi," he said.

"Hi," you replied, your voice weak.

"Reckon we should get out of here. What do ya think?" As soon as you nodded, he mirrored the response and stood, helping you to your feet. "Are you hurt anywhere else?"

"N-no," you told him. That wasn't strictly true, but you were mostly numb. Deep, dark bruises would bloom all across your body over the coming days. How you managed to escape otherwise unharmed was magic or a miracle.

"Stronger than you look, huh?" he said, smiling. How he could smile in an environment like that was also magic or a miracle. "I know a couple people like that, so you're in good company. Always my favourite type of people,"

"I didn't… didn't think you'd talk so much," you said. It kinda just came out, the same way the thoughts of little kids do.

Bucky's left arm was around your waist, holding almost all of your body weight. He was making carrying you through a warzone seem easy. Giving you a bit of a casual shrug, Bucky said, " I don't… Trick to keep ya conscious. Don't want you passing out on me,"

"I'm not gonna pass out," you said, more in defiance than anything else.

Bucky scoffed. "Alright. So, what's your name then? What do you do?"

He'd obviously seen them before you, so by the time you clocked the creatures scrambling through broken buildings and rubble in their search, Bucky had already taken you off the road. Backs to the wall, he didn't appear in the slight bit concerned about the situation. He even looked to you, waiting for a reply before making his next move.

"Y/N," you told him.

"Y/N. Good to meet you, Y/N. I'm Bucky,"

"I know,"

"Yeah… Everybody fuckin' knows… Alright. Gonna need you to stay here for just a second, okay?"

As he went to peel away from the wall, you grabbed him with your one working hand. "Please don't leave me!" you begged in a harsh whisper. Tears had been streaming down your face since the first building went down, but a fresh flood started to sting your cheeks.

Bucky cupped your face with his gloved hands and looked you dead in the eyes. "I'm not leaving. I promise. I fuckin' promise you."

Slowly, you nodded. As soon as you did, he swooped off the curb and brought a reckoning down on the creatures. They hadn't seen him coming. Bucky moved with grace and ease, like he was born to fight. Later, when you were safe, you'd think about that moment, about the way he moved, and it would make you sad.

Back, Bucky wrapped himself around you again. And, that's how you got through the city. It was slow, but Bucky continually refused offers of help from whoever was in his earpiece. Resources were needed elsewhere, he said. He had you, and he'd get you to safety.

Time once again warping, fifteen minutes later you could hear voices and see human movement. It felt like you'd spent hours in Bucky's arms, watching him take down threats and crack bad jokes to keep you awake.

Before you realised what was happening, people were carrying you away from Bucky, pouring water down your throat and yelling at you that you were safe. Although you understood you were safe, it felt the opposite. "No! Please, please, please," you yelled, pushing free from the helpers and clinging back onto Bucky. All your words were rammed together, scared and needy.

Bucky let you hold him, wrapping his arms around you with the perfect amount of pressure. He hushed you with soft, "Shhhh," sounds. Using his teeth as a vice, Bucky pulled the glove off his right hand, then ran his fingers through your hair. "You're okay, Y/N. You're safe. You gotta stay here and have someone look at your hand. I gotta go help."

Although you nodded into him, you made no attempt to move. You'd been safe before it all happened, but it happened anyway. There was nothing to say that as soon as Bucky left, more creatures wouldn't arrive.

"Y/N. I got Captain America in one ear and Iron Man in the other. They can't do shit without me," Bucky joked. It made you laugh, looking up at him. "I'll come back when this is done. Bring ya flowers in the hospital,"

"I'm scared,"

"Yeah. Aliens are invading. It's scary. But it's kinda cool too, right?" he said with a wink.

He gently led you to one of the makeshift medical tents set up. When you were sitting down, he ruffled your hair in a weird gesture that confused you both, then left the safe zone. As soon as he was gone, you started to cry.

Chapter 2.

#mine #Bucky Barnes #Bucky Barnes fanfic #Bucky Barnes fic #Bucky Barnes x Reader #Bucky Barnes/Reader #Bucky Barnes / Y/N #Bucky Barnes x Y/N #Bucky Barnes x You #Bucky Barnes/You #Hero Bucky Barnes #So Far Away

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shellheadtm-a · 4 years

Text

Bucky x Tony @involuntaryspy / send me a ship and-

Who asks the other on dates: okay, it's time i was real with y'all. tony didn't even know they were dates until date #3. he didn't. he had no idea. he thought they were just hanging out. i mean clearly that got cleared up and bucky learned a valuable lesson in how you need to be absolutely clear with tony and not let his brain fill in the blanks (i mean to him it was logical they were just hanging out), but. it's true. (i think it has to do with the fact that tony doesn't see cues if he's not the one doing the pursuing - i don't think a lot of people have pursued him like that in seriousness.) anyway, they go on dates, though it's mostly bucky that has taken over their social dance card, tbh. when tony's in new york it's usually for work or avenger things, so there's not a lot of fun to be had and besides, bucky's back in indiana usually, though if he's in new york they do things. but bucky's the one with the connections when tony's home so it just ends up that tony comes home and finds out he's doing a thing. it works for them.

Who is the bigger cuddler: tony is absolutely the cuddle fiend in this relationship. if they're both home in the same room, you can believe some part of tony is draped over some part of bucky at all times. you would think tony wouldn't be so intent on that kind of thing but considering his past history, especially all that time in the chestplate, being touchy with his person is a big deal. he even does it while he's asleep, he latches on and has to be untangled from to get out of bed (sorry, bucky). he likes being Close.

Who initiates holding hands more often: bucky might initiate it more often, but tony never hesitates, not even once. he's schmoopy like that. and like, yeah, he makes sure he's on the side that bucky's comfortable with, because he gets it, but also consider: he likes to make it exceedingly clear that he's not worried about bucky's metal arm. i mean, it's already been said, but he built it. he loves and trusts bucky. there's nothing in that that he remotely thinks is something to be wary of. and you can be sure when he does cute shit like kissing the palm of bucky's flesh and blood hand he does it to the metal one, too. it's not about being able to feel it, it's about normalizing it, associating it with daily life, as a help aid and a prosthesis instead of a weapon, as a part of bucky himself, like he's done with the upgrades he gave it to make it make daily life easier. making sure bucky knows he loves all of him.

Who remembers anniversaries: people need to literally let tony live!!! he might not be able to tell anyone when they started dating, because, again, he didn't even know those were dates, but he does remember things like birthdays (just...not his own, usually). and the stuff he can't remember, he has friday for, and since she and bucky are apparently so buddy buddy she's not likely to let tony get himself put in the doghouse by letting him forget. he tries, though. he just only has so much ram and processing speed and there are a lot of programs running in the background.

Who is more possessive: that's not a thing with them. tony doesn't really have much of a possessive streak in that way, for the most part i'd argue that he's emotionally too submissive in a lot of respects (especially in romantic relationships) and skittish because of bad experiences. he doesn't try to keep bucky all to himself, it's why he's doing this double household thing to begin with, you know, and why he's setting up camp in another city that's becoming a tech forerunner (so he can have his office closer to home and actually be home). he'd rather it be that they're actually living together full time, but he knows bucky loves being in indiana and loves his house and wouldn't try to take it from him for the world. wouldn't ask him to change things, he'll change things as much as he can (i mean he still has to be in new york for weekly meetings but iron man kinda negates flight time there), but otherwise he's nested so hard himself it's sad.

Who gets more jealous: i mean it's a fact tony has a jealous streak. but it's not...it doesn't come out that way. he withdraws, pulls back, instead of clinging tighter, because of the way tony's brain works and likes to lie to him (it's the depression and anxiety). but he's forever grateful that bucky will absolutely save him from situations he'd have a hard time extracting him from with them both knowing it definitely looks like jealousy, because it's not. bucky's teaching tony how to say no when he'd have reluctantly said yes and not wanted to and how to start learning and putting up his own boundaries.

Who is more protective: tony can be ridiculously overprotective, if you want me to be honest. it's because he worries. he's redesigned bucky's gear at least twenty times and then never says anything because he doesn't want it to be taken as an insult, he just wants to keep bucky safe. and he knows bucky won't take it the wrong way but...it's tony, it's how he is. he doesn't want to be as overbearing as he's been accused of in the past. but bucky's team normal and tony has a vested interest in making sure he stays unsquished. i can also say that he's literally never made the connection between bucky running interference and it being a protective thing, at least not consciously. subconsciously he's starting to put those boundaries in place when he just can't - though not enough to give him some breathing room yet - so if nothing else it's actually doing some good. baby steps.

Who is more likely to cheat: tony stark is no cheater. it would literally never occur to him to even consider it, like...ever. this is a guy that wasn't even sure if his girlfriend was still his girlfriend (she was ghosting) and he still turned down other people because as far as he was concerned, with no clear answer, he was still in a relationship. tony stark is loyal. fullstop. tony stark married? ten times as much. he's someone's Person, bucky picked him, and that's it, that's all, bucky's stuck with him now forever, because tony is in reputation a playboy, in reality a mate for lifer. and despite the fact that he's had such horrible relationship experiences - including being cheated on - he's literally never given it a thought whether bucky would, because his faith in the people he loves is unshakable.

Who initiates sexy times the most: they're idiots, okay, i don't know what to say other than that. it's a game, it's all a game to them, and they're both horrible little shits who get it in their heads they must have the upper hand and then nobody gets laid because they can't use their words. it's amazing they ever actually have sex at all considering how big of idiots they are with this.

Who dislikes PDA the most: there's pda, and then there's excessive slobbery pda. like, they're married, they're allowed to hold hands and have the occasional cute smooch in public, they're allowed to casually touch each other but let's be honest, they're both entirely too grown to be slobbery and gross.

Who kills the spider: the only member of this household that kills spiders is probably alpine. you kinda feel bad about it when you know so many spider hyphen people.

Who asks the the other to marry them: bucky, it was bucky. and it's so funny, you know, because honestly before bucky did, tony was thinking about it and telling himself not now because it was too soon, way too soon. like it was honest struggle, it's really kind of sad. and funny. like i'm still laughing at the entire thing, because tony never had a clue, never suspected a thing, never guessed, like bucky needs to put a feather in his cap about that because it's hard to keep things from tony, his thing is as much information as it is engineering and innovation, so the fact that tony showed up to his own wedding not knowing it was a wedding was. chef kiss.

Who buys the other flowers or gifts: tony, we all know it's tony, because he doesn't know how to not. he honestly wouldn't know what to do if he couldn't like. overdo this. and he does overdo it. buying out a flower shop for two weeks straight? done. reserving an entire restaurant for a night so it's just the two of them? double done. paying attention to little details and wants and likes and then turning that up to eleven? you remember the chocolate thing, you remember. but like...for tony it's not a big deal? he's not good with Talking About Feelings and it's easier and more comfortable for him to express things in other ways, and he has the money to do it. and if it was just spending money because he can that would be one thing but it's very specific, very pointed, he uses all those little details he pays attention to in order to do it. and to be honest, bucky will never stop him. he will continue to be That Way because it's what he knows and it's part of his love language, so...it's nice that it's appreciated in the spirit it's meant rather than what it has been in the past with other people, i don't think tony's ever otherwise been in a real relationship where it was a nice surprise when he does stuff like that instead of expected because he's tony stark.

Who would bring up possibly having kids: kids aren't really a thing that's part of the bucky and tony show, and honestly, in this case i don't think...tony feels that loss as acutely as i'd have expected? it's not a thing he thinks about much at all, to be honest. their lives are utterly insane outside of their happy little bubble, the work will literally never be done, and they have a good life, you know. they both have enough going on, with themselves, with the world, it's better not to add that unpredictable and vulnerable element into the equation. and they have al. tony's never had a pet, not really, so this is new and novel and he can direct those feelings to her and he's satiated. he's happy. he loves that cat so damn much, it's ridiculous, even if she's a complete and utter traitor and a bed thief.

Who is more nervous to meet the parents: it might have been bucky but honestly i don't know that he had anything to worry about. or maybe he did, amanda is feisty and isn't afraid to like. take somebody out with a guitar, i love her sm. plus she is...awesomely protective of tony and his feelings now that they've connected so of course she's gonna give bucky a shovel talk but...anyway, overall it's all very strange to tony and he has no idea what to make of any of it because he doesn't have much of a frame of reference there, so he considers bucky and amanda things to be bucky and amanda things and stays out of it, for the most part. they seem to have made up their minds about each other and no one's getting beaned with instruments, so he'll take it as a win.

Who sleeps on the couch when the other is angry: they don't fight. it's weird. they actually talk things out like adults and reach an understanding. crazy, right? it's like they understand they won't agree 100% on everything and have figured out a way around that. amazing. besides, sleeping on the couch is for the naps tony won't admit to and claim he does not take that he actually really does take. why would he do that when he can fight the cat for dominance and sleep with bucky? he wouldn't, that's what.

Who tries to make up first after arguments: tony likes to have a good sulk and pout session first, to be honest. so it's entirely reasonable that bucky would because honestly in most of tony's interpersonal relationships he's not going to open the floor to talking about his own feelings. he's going to keep those where he thinks they belong, which is with him, but bucky will push for it which is actually a good thing. instead of letting tony stew in whatever it is, it gets addressed. he's safe to Have An Emotion and then Express He Has That Emotion without feeling like he's being ridiculed.

Who tells the other they love them more often: you know that post. the one about "where's husband" "here's husband! here i am!" that's it, y'all. that's them. that's them in a nutshell. they're unbearably gross, it's awful, i love them. tony takes a while to get over that hurdle, you know, admitting it out loud because he's got his issues. but once he's past that he has no issue using it at every given opportunity. part of it is the superhero lifestyle is unstable and once it's out there he wants to make sure he reiterates it while he can. part of it is it becomes this ridiculous little talisman for him, that he has to say it. part of it is because tony stark is a romantic at heart and needs bucky to know at all times that he loves him, does bucky know he loves him, because he loves him. it's gross, it's disgusting, someone please make them stop.

#involuntaryspy #array //: ( ooc asks )#bind //: ( involuntaryspy :: who loves me and whom i love )#// i told you this thing was nightmarishly long #// so here it is #// i need them to stop #// right now #// immediately

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sebthesnipe · 5 years

Text

The Dreamer by Whatwashernameagain an Analysis? Chapter 2! Part 1

All portions:

Chapter 1: Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4

Chapter 2: Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4

The Dreamer

@whatwashernameagain

Guys! We finally made it to Chapter 2!!!! Prepare for the feelz!

As always, Spoilers under cut.

So… Lets recap what we know about Roman before we dig too deep into Chapter 2… We know that Roman is overzealous, hopeful to the point of naivety, innocent, sassy, playful/teasing, endearing, misguided and moral. He sees the good in everyone (especially Logan). Roman cares for each person individually, while Logan cares more for humanity as a whole. Lastly, Roman is pretty much the embodiment of hope for Logan and maybe the world. No pressure.

Okay… That’s pretty much what we know about Roman’s personality thus far… and he’s only been mentioned a few times… Not bad, not bad. Let’s get to it!

Eva wastes no time jumping right into Roman’s back story, though I’ll admit the first time I read this it gave me a bit of whiplash. We did just come out of a very dramatic scene, after all. Still as usual there is a lot to be said in the first para. First off, drawing the reader in within the first few lines is always a great idea and she manages it with; “Young Roman was shaking with righteous anger. How dare this – this fiend targeted the company of his father?” (Whatwashernameagain). This should send us into a whirlwind of emotions. We learn a lot about Roman and Roman’s father with these two sentences. First off, we see that Roman is very quick with his emotions which is not surprising at all, judging from what we have learned about him. However, when he uses the word ‘fiend’ in italics the inflection nods towards his overzealous nature which honestly warms my heart a bit. Once again, Eva is very strategic with her italics and beautifully so. We can assume that this ‘fiend’ is none other than one ‘Utilitarianist’ judging from the context of the previous chapter and the rivalry that we are already familiar with. But this begs the question: Why would Logan target Roman’s father unless he is a bad man? Well, I’d say the answer is in the question… But Roman obviously doesn’t believe that.

“He was the hardest working man in the world! His idol, his hero! He was donating to charity, pursuing a career in politics to support the attempts of the republican party to protect this great country’s safety and now he had to deal with an investigation into the state of his breeding facilities” (Whatwashernameagain).

This makes me… so sad. Roman obviously idolizes his father. He is a young man here, years before The Dreamer and it certainly shows in his naivety and innocence. As children many of us are fed information that our parents wish for us to believe or are simply told in order to stop us from questioning this or that. Some parents do this consciously while most don’t even think about it. It’s like when your parent tells you that its illegal to drive at night with the cab light on… I don’t know if this is going to shock you but its not illegal. At least not here. But their parents no doubt told them that when they were younger to keep them from messing with the light and distracting them; then they grew up believing it and now they tell their children the same thing. Or my mother use to tell me that her first husband died in a car accident because she didn’t want me to know she was divorced… Turns out he lives in Cali with a wife and three kids… but questioning her about him hurt her so she made up a lie to protect herself and me. Its not surprising that poor innocent Roman would be fed similar lies to help idolize his father.

The thing is… there comes a point in time in every adult’s life that they look at their parent and reality hits them so hard in the face they stumble. The person you thought your mom or dad was isn’t exactly who they are. For example, I idolized my own father and I of course still love him very very much; but growing up I thought he had the answer to everything and was an outstanding person. He had very few flaws (mostly just promiscuity)… Then about the time I turned twenty-four I watched as he went into a rage about abortions and how pro-choicers are idiots when most of them are pro-life but ‘just want attention’. It took me by surprise and when I showed him the statistics that the majority of ‘pro-life’ and ‘pro-choice’ both agreed that there should be exceptions to most abortion issues (“Abortion”). He chose to deny the fact and continued to hate the opposite party simply because they labeled themselves something other than what he labeled himself, despite believing in the same concepts…. I’m getting way off topic… Sorry… I realized in that moment that the man I idolized was an ignorant man who was content with his choice in being ignorant. It was a shock… The image of him I had painted my whole life came crashing down. It was alright of course, we just don’t talk about politics anymore… well… not often anyways. My point is… I’m curious to see when Roman has the same realization that his father is not the man Roman expects him to be… Truth be told; our parents can never live up to their children’s expectations. We set the bar too high and they are only human, doing the best they can… The good ones anyways XP

Again! Getting off topic! Sorry! Back to the analysis….

Roman sees his father as everything he strives to be. His father is a hard worker, who gives to the needy, is charismatic (a politician), a protector. No doubt, Roman was conditioned to see these things; conditioned to believe that this is what a ‘real�� man looks like. A conditioning that most of us have experienced. Girls that don’t dress pretty enough, or don’t like the color pink, or rather play with a football than a barbie; or boys who love pink, enjoy makeup, don’t enjoy sports… I can’t tell you enough how much crap my husband gets because he rather read a book than play football, especially when he was in school (he’s 6’4” and almost 400lbs). Its wrong!!! Here Roman’s father stands, the picture-perfect image of everything Roman is expected to be… of course he’s going to fixate on the good, rather than accepting the bad. Looks like Logan isn’t the only one in denial.

This denial is cemented when Roman begins to talk about the ‘caramel colored Highland cow’ that his father had given him when he was twelve. Roman uses this as an example of how his father cares so deeply for animals…. -sigh- My poor baby… All of this is an indication of unconscious rationalization. Yup, you guessed it I’m jumping back into psychoanalysis and Freud. YAY! Rationalization is when an individual avoids feelings of displeasure by explaining their own loses and failures as someone else’s fault (Rivkin, Julie). In this case, Roman isn’t even aware that he is doing it; hence the denial. Instead of subconsciously accepting the fact that these investigations could be in the right he chooses to blame the investigation of victim blaming…. Well, the investigations and The Utilitarianist.

Though Roman’s us of terms such as ‘hard-working Americans,’ ‘terrorist’ and ‘gross injustice’ in the next few paragraphs really boldens the image that Roman eventually grows into; the one we saw in Chapter 1. As if Roman should be wearing the stars and stripes on his cape, flapping in the wind behind him. A whole-hearted apple pie American! These terms are a direct parallel to a lot of the Republican campaigns throughout the last few years. Terms like this tend to be used to sew discontent and fear into people, making them easily controllable. Honestly, it’s a great symbolism on how America’s masses are being persuaded to follow the path of anger and certain politicians that I will not name. Roman, here is the picture-perfect representation of America, his father a Republican extremist (like many politicians lately) who has fed him so many lies and promises… provided pretty things to satisfy him temporary and allow him to do as he pleases without any consequence to himself. Sound familiar?

**Personal note: I have nothing against the Republican party. I agree with the platform on a few issues as well as with the Democratic platform. However, anything to its extreme is a bad thing. Thank you for coming to my Tedtalk.

“Roman could not stand for this! It was gross injustice! He wanted to help, to support his father and show him that he could trust him! He was almost twenty now – a man – and it was time he finally managed to prove himself!” (Whatwashernameagain).

Within the same paragraph we see Roman’s need to win his father’s approval. We also see the societal gender norm of being ‘a man’ once more. There is a lot to unpack here. Roman wants to show his father that he can ‘trust him.’ Which wouldn’t be something a normal person would be concerned about unless there was a sense of past abuse; which judging by the rationalization is no doubt the case. This implies that Roman has always been informed that he’s not good enough, or that he is incompetent. This small sentence shows us a side of Roman that we have yet to see… his insecurity. Sure, as The Dreamer he hides it well… He must, he’s the hope and dreams of the world, he can’t afford insecurities. But deep down he is just a child wanting his father’s approval. He wants to be needed, needs to be accepted. He wants to prove to this man that he’s not worthless… Hmm… Kinda sounds like a certain villain we know doesn’t it? Actually, Logan and Roman have a lot more in common here than meets the eye. Imagine what Roman feels here… The desperation, the loneliness. Perhaps he feels as if there is no one else in the world that could possibly understand how he feels. He is no doubt surrounded by staff but when it comes down to it, he is just as alone as Logan is. Both using their pain to change the world; both defining themselves by the work that they do… by their usefulness. Once again, Roman focusing on the individual (his father) while Logan focuses on the masses. He and Logan share the same goal, the same hurtles, and the same pain… and yet somehow ended up on opposite sides of the coin…

We see more of Roman’s insecurities in the next paragraph, underlining the emotion; proving to the reader that it runs far deeper than we would first assume. He states that he tends to ‘ask the wrong question’ and makes ‘stupid suggestions’. However, the questions he asks are regarding the wages of the workers, and the suggestions involve the wellbeing of animals. The dimension this contrast provides really rounds out Roman’s character. As a reader we see that these questions are anything but wrong and the suggestions are far from stupid, but we are a mute onlooker that can do nothing to change the scene unfolding before us. These words paint Roman’s heart as much as his pain. We see his concern for his father’s employees and the animals as well. We see that he cares for every living being, bringing up back to the fact that he focuses on the individual, reinforcing this concept. At the same time, he doesn’t see it himself. I’ve learned early on in life that if you are told the same thing over and over in your life time by someone you look up to… you are bound to believe it and the best and worst thing about belief is that once you have it… its hard to let go.

“Shame rose into Roman’s cheeks as he remembered his silly question about fencing in a meadow for their calves in their Laredo facility to play in with their mothers. He’d just remembered how much Nugget had always enjoyed jumping around with them. Of course, he should have known they needed to be separated from their mothers after the first day to avoid losing the milk they sold. It was necessary, he guessed. So, they’d said” (Whatwashernameagain).

So, they’d said… -sigh- Three little words and yet… so much pain. I don’t really need to explain the whole being told something repeatedly etc etc etc. Because I just did; but the fact that Eva ends the paragraph so simply is so elegantly impactful… I just… wanted to bring attention to it.

It also serves to point out that despite the fact that Roman rationalizes his father’s mistreatments and dirty deeds, he has his doubts. “It was necessary, he guessed.” Implies that Roman doesn’t truly believe this despite what he’d been told (along with the ‘so they’d said’). It adds even more depth to the man because while we are looking at a young Roman with no self-confidence he knows right from wrong. At least, deep down he does. It is the environment around him that is forcing this sense of morality to be buried deep deep down to the point to he can hardly recognize it… but its there. This also makes for some great foreshadowing. The small rebellion of nothing but a seed of a thought will no doubt grow into more.

Tangent: People always talk about how changing your thoughts are a sure-fire way to change your life and it is true. In fact, there is scientific research to prove it. No, I’m not talking about some kind of poll or mental screening. It’s much bigger than that. Dr. Masaru Emoto, a Japanese scientist and doctor of alternative medicine, conducted an experiment to try and discover how our thoughts can physically affect the world around us (“Water”). He took samples of water and exposed them to written and spoken words and music to see how thoughts and feelings affect physical reality (“Water”). Dr. Masaru Emoto discovered that crystals formed in frozen water reveal changes when specific, concentrated thoughts are directed towards them such as ‘love’, ‘thank you’, ‘I hate you’ (“Water”). The findings were unbelievable especially when you consider the fact that 90% of our bodies are made of water. Water that changes in reaction to thoughts. The implications of this research create a new awareness of how we can positively impact the earth and our personal health (“Water”). Dr. Emoto has been called to lecture around the world as a result and has conducted live experiments both in Japan and Europe as well as in the US to show how indeed our thoughts, attitudes, and emotions as humans deeply impact the environment (“Water”). I learned this many years ago watching the documentary ‘What the Bleep Do We Know?’ which I highly recommend… But if you would like to watch the short clip on water molecules and thoughts you can find it here.

I bring it up because Roman’s rebellious thoughts have a far more drastic impact than he probably assumes. We shape ourselves to our thoughts… Which only intensifies the foreshadowing here.

Once again, in the next para we see Roman’s rationalization in full swing as he talks about his father having a difficult time with him. We also see the reinforcement of social norms when it comes to gender: ‘he lacked a sense of ruthlessness a strong man needed to improve the world’, ‘he was a bad hunter, had the wrong interests’, ‘spoke too softly or loudly’ (Whatwashernameagain). I’m not going to go into it too much because I’ve already touched on the ridiculousness of this… and because forcing social gender norms onto someone like this piss me off like no other and I’m not turning this into a big rant and pulling it away from Eva’s amazing work! I’ll just say that its wrong to assume what it means to be a man or a woman… why isn’t just being a person enough?! and leave it at that. We also see more of Roman’s idolization of his father; his need for approval and his distaste for Logan and his so-called victim-blaming (which is rationalization once more).

The sudden shift from such a somber tone to the next paragraph proves to be refreshing and provides Roman with a small burst of passion we know and love! Eva writes: “Roman had one thing going he was good at, though. He was strong, brave and determined. Someone needed to put a stop to this renegade liberal, and it might as well be him. It wasn’t like all the other things he’d tried and failed at. This time, he felt a calling to fight the war of the righteous” (Whatwashernameagain)!

This provides us with a small glimpse of The Dreamer we’ve come to know in Chapter 1. Roman may not have confidence in himself but the image of who he wants to be is another story. For those of you who don’t know I worked in Law Enforcement for six years and its things like this that remind me of some of the good parts of the job. Roman is relatable here to be. I’ve known a lot of officers who are very different outside of the uniform, myself included. We have insecurities, weaknesses, ticks, that all seem to fade away when we put on that uniform. You become a different person, a stronger person; someone you look up to… and looking up to yourself is an amazing feeling… its like your indestructible… you can do anything! Officer Liz and the Liz writing this analysis are two different people. Yes, we share the same experiences and likes and dislikes but… I’m just a regular person, staying up too late, worried about laundry and dishes… while she… she’s a hero who protects everyone, always has a solution, and never lets her emotions get the better of her. Roman is getting his first taste of the high that comes with the alter ego. He sees the Dreamer in that instance, though he refers to himself because in a way they are the same person… The difference is, is that The Dreamer has already won his father’s approval and pride… Roman has not.

*******

I will have to end it there, friends. It is way past my bed time, and I have to be up in a few hours for work. Thank you for joining me though and I hope to see you in Part 2!

“Abortion.” Gallup.com, Gallup, 10 Nov. 2019, https://news.gallup.com/poll/1576/abortion.aspx.

Rivkin, Julie. Literary Theory: a Practical Introduction. Wiley-Blackwell, 2017.

“Water.” What the Bleep Do We Know!?, https://whatthebleep.com/water-crystals/.

Whatwashernameagain. “The Dreamer - Chapter 2.” Hello Guys Gals And Non Binary Friends, 8 Sept. 2019, https://whatwashernameagain.tumblr.com/post/189407228487/the-dreamer-chapter-2?is_related_post=1.

#The dreamer #villain!logan #hero!roman #sanders sides #logince #logan sanders #roman sanders #logan/roman #roman/logan #analysis #reaction #fanfiction #Whatwashernameagain

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bigskydreaming · 5 years

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princeescaluswords replied to your post:

Teen Wolf fandom loves to rave Lydia this and...

You know, I wonder if Scott’s so-called ‘naive optimism’ was actually a confidence in his own abilities? Yeah, he panicked in S1 but that was because of Werewolves! Starting when he went to rescue Derek, he started believing in his own abilities – able to convince Derek of Peter’s lies, able to interfere positively in S2. We focus so much on his team-building, we were fooled by his humility.

Huh. That’s actually a pretty interesting thought, once you factor in Allison’s presence and influence in his life. Like...she basically would have been the first person other than Deaton who was both important to Scott and new to his life, having no prior preconceptions formed - and he CONSCIOUSLY wanted to impress her, and she responded by actually being impressed, rather than giving him shit for stuff or feeling threatened by his more positive traits. Thus, for the first time he had a new influence who rewarded his more proactive side and his personal priorities and attributes....

Melissa in the early seasons was supportive of Scott for sure, and a positive source of esteem for his intelligence and decision-making....BUT her influence on Scott’s subconscious behavior would have been mitigated by the fact that she was his mother, and she’d been present when Rafe was around and instilling such negative, detrimental tendencies. So in effect, Scott’s behaviors towards his own intelligence would have been formed ALREADY taking Melissa’s expressed views into account....its just Rafe’s were more impactful because of how much more dramatic and affecting of him they likely were.

And then Deaton certainly should be credited for his positive influence on Scott’s life, and he was always a source of positivity and confidence for Scott, as we saw when we saw how Scott responded to Deaton praising him for being such a good employee. BUT Deaton’s EARLY influence would have been mitigated by the fact that he still technically was only Scott’s boss at the time, and there’s only so much subconscious influence that can add to the equation. I’d argue we actively SAW Deaton’s opinion of Scott himself steadily gain MORE importance to Scott as the series progressed, and as Deaton’s importance to Scott as a father figure and mentor grew, rather than still just being an employer.

So Scott DID have the framework for enough of a support system to actually boost his confidence in himself and his own abilities.....but Allison’s opinion would have been like the adrenaline shot needed to jumpstart the actual changes in his self-confidence we saw starting in early Season One and progressing all the way to his rise as an Alpha in 3A.

From that angle, it was never JUST about Scott’s confidence increasing because of his werewolf abilities specifically...rather it was the cumulative effect of how they helped him overcome the barriers he had in place for how people viewed him as less than he actually was....it was like an artificial or at least external influx of self-confidence that then in turn was backed by the positive affirmation he received first from Allison, then a more important/influential Deaton, and to top it all off, the grudging respect he gained from Derek as the first two seasons progressed, as well as the reluctant acknowledgments from Scott’s actual antagonists, like Peter, Chris and even Gerard.

So yeah, I think you’re right, Scott’s ‘naive optimism’ could very simply have been an increased awareness of his own capabilities being far more than he’d given HIMSELF credit for, having been subconsciously sabotaging his own self-image for years, to keep from being perceived negatively by people important to him.

Which is how we saw the first hints of Scott’s True Alpha nature in Night School, when his eyes first flickered to red, but it took until the 3A finale to really ‘solidify’ as a True Alpha....because the capability was within him all along, a la the shape you take reflects the person you are.....he was ALWAYS unusual compared to other werewolves, as acknowledged by pretty much every other supernatural-knowledgeable character from the very first season....because in effect, he always was a True Alpha all along....on a subconscious level. With little hints of that peeking through here and there.

But it wasn’t until the 3A finale, after Scott’s CONSCIOUS awareness of his true capabilities had time to catch up with his subconscious thanks to the positive affirmations he received from Allison, Derek, Deaton, Isaac and assorted others in his slowly growing circle of new opinions that held weight and importance with him....THAT was why it took until 3A for his shape and manifestation as a True Alpha to really ‘stick.’ He was the opposite of Jackson-as-the-kanima, in that way. Jackson’s shape was malleable because he was lacking a personal sense of identity and basing who he was on what other people wanted him to be, until the end of S2, where he managed to decide for himself what HE wanted to be, and view himself that way, as a werewolf.

In contrast, Scott’s shape was malleable, fluctuating between the ‘appearance’ of an omega, beta and alpha without ever really actually changing in any meaningful way.....but Scott deep down always was the same person, he DID have a personal sense of identity and who he was and how he viewed himself, and that was a True Alpha, beholden to no one’s limitations but his own....its just because of influences like his dad’s, he’d buried that sense of self over the years beneath what he THOUGHT other people wanted him to be....until people like Allison and Isaac helped him break through those self-imposed barriers and limitations and realise who he really was, as they finally reaffirmed for him what he’d already once believed about himself and what he was capable of...instead of trying to deny it or bury it.

And thus, his confidence took an actual, solid hit in S4, in the wake of not just Allison’s death but also Isaac’s departure, etc, as in one go he lost several of the very opinions that had done so much to help him appreciate his own sense of self and natural abilities.....and this is why S4 had his shape being malleable and in flux again, as he lacked his former conviction about who and what he was, and needed to refocus and reclaim that for himself. A temporary setback, a two steps forward one step back kinda thing.

But still an overall trend towards the positive, because even then when he suffered more confidence-rooted setbacks in Season 5, he’d still by that point solidified enough surety in his sense of self that this time, his shape never wavered, even though he lost some faith in himself due to his pack’s loss of confidence in him. But he never stopped being an Alpha, his eyes never flickered back to gold, his shape didn’t change as a werewolf, he didn’t become more monstrous or less human....but his Alpha CAPABILITIES took a hit, his strength and healing as a werewolf, thus weakening him and leaving him vulnerable to his asthma again and taking so long to heal in 5B. He knew who he was by then, he was still a True Alpha, he hadn’t lost faith in that, but he had taken a hit in terms of what that meant to him, what it said about what he was actually capable of strength wise....until he brought his pack back together and recemented and affirmed their bonds, doing what was in his perception his due diligence as the Alpha, what was expected of him as the True Alpha....and thus allowing him to return to his previous levels of strength and healing as he restabilized his assessment of what he was capable of and how successful he was or not at filling what he’d come to believe were the expectations and responsibilities that came with his True Alpha nature and role.

#princeescaluswords #oops I metaed again #*britney spears melody*

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eccentriccowboy · 6 years

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Assassin // pt. 4// FINALE

Synopsis: Y/N and Luke battle to the death for the title of Assassin. (not actually but)

Pairing: Slow burn(not for long bitches hehe) bestfriend!Luke x reader

Warnings: None besides swearing my lack of proofreading. i forgot to add swearing to pt. 3′s warnings so i apologize to all you 6-year-olds on tumblr who weren’t prepared for me to drop an f-bomb.

But seriously im sorry to the people who aren’t comfortable with swears.

also thank you to the people that sent me such supporting messages, getting me through this. I love you..

Word Count: 2.6 k

*****

You woke to the heavy weight of Luke’s arm resting over your waist. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but you definitely weren’t expecting it, nor the proximity between you two, his chest practically touching your back.

You tried to inch forward, gaining space between you and Luke, but his grip on your waist suddenly tightened, pulling you closer to his chest.

“Mhmm, stop moving,” he mumbled, nuzzling his face into the back of your neck. You didn’t know what to do. Of course you’ve slept in the same bed as Luke before, you’ve grown up with him. But not since this whole “I have feelings for you and I’m beginning to get the feeling you do too” fiasco began.

Instead, you turned over in his bed, now facing him. “Luke,” you whispered. “I have to get going,” you lied. You had nowhere to be, and although you had practically dreamed for months now of waking up next to Luke to morning cuddles, now that it was happening it didn’t seem right. Probably because you two were still just “friends”.

“Mhmm, no you don’t. Stay and cuddle. I’m kinda cold,” he murmured, a loud yawn escaping his lips, before pulling you closer to his chest. He dragged his nose along your jawline; and you weren’t sure if it was his yawn that reminded you of how tired you still were, or the cold tip of his nose that told you it was cold outside and you best bundle up, or the relief of finally being close to him that made you stay.

*****

Luke woke up and began to panic. There was a girl in his bed. Not only that, that girl was you. For months on end he’s practically dreamed of waking up to you beside him, but there was a little problem. He may have gotten a little too excited about waking up to you, and now this little problem wasn’t so little.

Luke had a fucking boner. Here he was, sleeping in a bed with one of his closest friends, who has done nothing sexual to provoke him, and yet he was turned on.

Luke tried to lower his heart beat and calm down, in fear of it waking you as your head was placed on his chest. After taking a few deep breaths, Luke tried to slowly inch away from your touch, trying his best not to wake you. But to no avail, as your eyes opened to find Luke trying to slither out from under you.

“Where do you think you’re going?” you questioned, sleep still upon you.

“Uh, I’m gonna go make breakfast.” Luke stated, coming up with the first idea that came to his mind. He hoped you would fall for it, and let him leave to uh, deal with his situation.

But you were not having it. “Nooooo, stay. Like you said earlier, it’s cold outside of these blankets,” you tried to convince him, slinging your arm against his chest to keep him where he was.

But he shook his head and tried to move again. You thought it would be funny to gently tackle him, draping your body over his before he could get out of bed. Right once you did this, though, Luke froze.

“No, Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, no, get off me,” Luke quickly pleaded. But it was too late, you had already felt his bulge press against your lower half, your face immediately reddening.

Luke gently pushed you off of him and stood up, while you sat up straight. “Um, I can explain,” Luke began to say.

“No, no, it’s fine. Really, it’s natural. Right?” You stuttered, a blush still prominent on both of your cheeks.

“Well, no, but like-”

“It’s fine. Um, I’m gonna get going,” you stated, crawling out of bed and walking quickly past Luke, avoiding eye contact.

“No, no, Y/N. I just-”

“Luke really it’s good, we’re good, I just kinda wanna leave before this can get any more awkward,” you said, not even turning around to look at him before you had grabbed your shoes and clothes from yesterday and was out the door.

*****

“Hey Y/N, Um, this is gonna be complicated. Because I know things are kinda awkward between us right now. And that’s all mine and my stupid man brain’s fault. But I really wanna speak to you. But of course we still have the game going on, so I’m not really sure how we can do that. So just, um, call be back.”

You listened to Luke’s voicemail, shaking your head as you remembered the awkwardness that was this past morning.

To be honest you don’t know what to think anymore. You were just done with this whole shit between you and Luke. One moment you want to kiss him on the cheek, but then your feelings bubble up and you get frustrated that you aren’t together and you feel like punching something, preferably Luke´s face.

God, you’ve got it bad for him. But does a boner really mean he likes you? Probably not. It probably just means he still has the hormones of a 12-year-old boy. And that’s fine and all you guess, just it really messes with your head.

You couldn’t not face him, though. He’s one of your best friends, and you couldn’t possibly imagine your life without him.

But, like Luke said, you’ve still got the game going on. So clearly, he hasn’t forgotten, but neither have you.

You decide to sit on it. Avoiding problems is much easier than dealing with them, the devil of your subconscious reasons. Yes, but, Luke and I both need to talk. Without the game. Without the boys. Just the two of us. We both deserve that much. I know our relationship hasn’t been the same for a while, and I know he can feel it, too. So no matter how it ends, I do have to talk to him, the rational side of you explains. Yes, but, that doesn’t mean right now, the devil said. You quickly agreed with that side of you, taking the easy way out of things for now and getting ready for bed.

*****

Your hands twisted the hair at the nape of his neck, your fingers scratching his scalp lightly. His hands travelled from the side of your hips to your waist, becoming more comfortable with himself in the kiss. You broke the kiss, a smile falling upon your lips as your heart bubbled up in realization of what you have done. Your smile, contagious, one finding its way onto Luke’s lips, before being replaced with yours once more for a quick peck.

Suddenly, a loud ringing sounded out beside you, waking you up for your dream. You sighed in frustration, more at yourself for having such a dream than at the phone for waking you up. You reached over to grab your phone, Luke’s contact appearing on the phone. You looked to see it was three am, and in fear of it being an emergency, answered it.

“Luke?” you questioned. “What are you doing at this time of night?”

“Y/N” he slured. “Mm, I’m uh, mm,” sounding like he was on the brink of falling asleep.

“You’re what? Are you drunk?”

“Severely,” he giggled.

“Luke, oh my god. Just go back to sleep.” You rolled your eyes.

“Nooo,” he groaned. “Come to the park.”

That certainly got your attention.

“Wait, what?”

“Come to the park,” he repeated. “I’m here,” he said slowly, a yawn escaping afterwards.

“Oh my god, why are you at the park, Luke?” you asked, exasperated.

“Mmm,” he murmured. “I, mmm, got stuck.”

“What the hell, Luke?” you exclaimed, beginning to panic. “What do you mean?”

“Mmm, I uh, got stuck,” he slurred, his eyes closing, drifting in and out of consciousness.

“Alright, Luke,” you said. “Stay there. I’m on my way. Keep me on the phone,” but it was too late. Luke has ended the call, falling asleep god knows where.

You rushed out of the door, with only your phone, keys, and a jacket in hand. You continued to try and get a hold of Luke on your way down to the parking garage, but it was no use, he was knocked out cold somewhere, drunk and vulnerable.

While you avoided problems, Luke drowned them.

You should have known that whatever you felt after yesterday morning affected him, too. And after not responding to him, he would have turned to his coping mechanism like you did, except his included alcohol.

Breathing became hard, your worry for your best friend getting the best of you. He was unconscious, defenseless to any weirdo that happened to walk in a park at 3 am. You couldn’t possibly imagine your life without him.

You drove to the only park you would think Luke would go to, the one where you had first met him in the fifth grade. It was the only park in town the two of you had ever been to, really. And it was the closest to his apartment and you couldn’t think Drunk Luke would get too far.

You pulled over in front of the gate, shutting off the engine and exiting the car. You began to walk the path that was paved, your keys in your hands as defense. You used your phone as a flashlight, even though it wasn’t that dark.

Suddenly, a sound came from your left. You jumped to the side, only to be met with the flashing eyes of a racoon. You sped up your pace, trying to calm your heart beat.

You rounded a corner, your eyes widening at the scene before you. There was Luke, lying on the ground with his arm stuck in the gate, looking as healthy and safe as a drunk, unconscious man could.

You rushed to his side, afraid to touch him in case of hurting him more. His arm was twisted in a painful angle. You tried to push back the tears streaming down your face, but you couldn’t help it as you were filled up with so much relief that Luke was okay.

You gasped, trying to stifle the tears once more, drawing Luke back to consciousness. He opened his eyes slowly, but he seemed to sober up immediately when he saw you, tears rushing down your face.

You saw his eyes open and you wiped away your tears with your jacket sleeve. He tried to move to console you, but he yelped when he tried to move his arm.

“Oh, God, Luke,” you yelped, “Are you alright?”

Luke’s look at you for a few moments, then blinked.

“Yea, I, uh, I think so,” he said, still recovering from the many drinks he had hours earlier, instead falling into the beginnings of a hangover.

“What the hell were you doing” you scolded slightly. Still afraid to touch him, you sat down on the cement beside him, waiting for him to ask for help.

“Um, I think I was trying to pick the flowers on the other side,” He looked over at the flowers, that honestly weren’t too pleasing to the eye, looking as if they were on the verge of death. “I clearly failed,”

You rubbed your hands across your face, all the worry you had felt turning into disbelief, so much emotion draining you.

“Oh God, Luke. Why? Just why?” you questioned, almost chuckling at the situation.

Luke closed his eyes. “I was tryna get them for you,” he mumbled. Your heart jumped at his words. “I think drunk me was trying to apologize for being a dick but it didn’t work out.”

You let out a laugh, still a bit shaky. “I still haven’t heard an apology,” you raised your eyebrows.

Luke looked up at you for a few seconds, his eyes staring deep into yours, before beginning to speak. “I’m sorry, I’m stupid, we both know that,” he began. You could tell the alcohol still hadn’t worn off completely, his speech quickening and blurring together almost unintelligible.

“I’m sorry for making you worry about me, I shouldn’t have started drinking that early. But I was afraid you hated me and that I ruined our friendship from getting a fucking boner and I was upset at myself that I ruined my chances with you and I just want you in my life and I’m sorry, damnit Y/N” Luke said, exasperated. He clearly was not in charge of his words nor his emotions at the moment, his face red from his outburst, in combination with the cold and the alcohol.

You blinked, unsure of what to say. You felt your cheeks heat up, and Luke’s eye widened when he realized just what he had said.

“Shit, did I just make it worse?” Luke looked the other way, in fear of what you might say.

“What are you trying to tell me, Luke?” you said, needing reassurance that what you just heard was really what he meant.

“I’m trying to tell you I’m in love with you, Y/N” Luke blew out a breath, finally meeting your eyes. “And I have been for a while.”

You sat still for a couple of seconds, somehow in disbelief. There’s been something between you and Luke for a while now, but hearing it out loud that he not only likes you, but loves you, saying it outloud for all of the world to hear, making it real, just didn’t seem possible.

Luke sat there, his arm still twisted. But he couldn’t feel it anymore, the pain subsiding as he was too focused on your next moves.

Instead of saying anything, you placed your two cold hands onto his warm cheeks and leaned in, connecting your lips with his. His arm, the one that wasn’t tangled up in a fence, wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer. Your body heated up instantly, you wished the kiss could go on forever. But Luke broke the kiss, his mouth forming into a huge smile, as he laughed at what you to did.

You couldn’t help but laugh with him, all the worry and stress you had felt for so long vanishing, like a weight lifted off your shoulders, everything in life falling into place with just a simple smile.

You moved to straddle his waist and finally untwist his hand from the gate, but he suddenly stopped you.

“Wait, wait, wait.” He held you back, then began to stretch out his twisted arm gently.

“What are you doing, I’m trying to kiss you,” you said bluntly, a smile still on your face.

He plucked a few of the flowers from the bushes. “Okay, now help me,” he chuckled.

You gently pulled his elbow back, trying to not scratch or injure him more. When his arm was finally safe and out of the gate, he presented the flowers to you.

“As a congratulations,” he said. When he saw your eyebrows furrow, he continued. “You won Assassin,”

It took a few moments for you it to sink in, when you placed your hands on his cheeks, you won the game. You outburst in laughter, the night only getting better, euphoria overtaking you.

You leaned in to kiss him again, trying to wipe the smile off your face and grabbing the dying flowers from his hand and throwing them to the ground next to you. “I love you, too.”

*****

thanks for reading!! sorry it took so long!! ahh!!

taglist for Assassin: @cashtonspicelatte @curlious

@wrappedaroundcal @teenswithbrokensmiles @sassy-asht0n @northangerpark

@summertime-acoustic @yasminesflowers @oh-annaa @that1girlmary @teehxk

@may-bereblog @madxhttr22

#im very proud of myself because yes this took me forever to write but i finished it!!#5sos #5sos imagine #luke hemmings #luke hemmings imagine #luke hemmings imagines #IS IT IMAGINE OR IMAGINES #5sos imagines #5sos blurb #luke hemmings blurb #luke hemmings preferences #5sos smut #luke hemmings smut

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proudtoehaver · 6 years

Text

Emergency Care

A Finnpoe fic inspired by @lunaaltare‘s gorgeous piece of fanart. An edited and much improved version of what I posted last night (which has since gone poof into the dark, blue yonder).

Can also be read on AO3.

“You’ve got to stop doing this,” Finn says as he runs the medical scanner down Poe’s chest. “It’s the third time this month I’m seeing you in the med bay.”

“What you’re saying is that we can’t keep meeting in this way?” Poe quips, his voice slightly slurred by the painkiller Finn administered when he arrived. His legs are swinging slightly back and forth as he sits slouched on the edge of the examination table, shirtless, arm bandaged and his pants torn down along one side.

“This isn’t funny Poe.” Finn looks down at the screen of his scanner. “You were lucky this time, damn lucky. All you have is bruising and a few cuts, but that crash could have killed you. Easily.”

He takes a stylus from the breast pocket of his doctor’s vest and taps it arhythmically against the edge of his datapad. His mouth is dry in anticipation of what he’s going to do next. He has been putting it off, downplaying how serious this is, but he can’t do it anymore. Not after this. It was sheer dumb luck that saved Poe’s life in that speeder bike crash, next time he might be less lucky. Or the time after that, or the one after that. Because this has been happening so many times now that Finn knows that there’ll be a next time.

“In fact, I’m making a referral to one of the psychiatrists.”

There, he’s said it.

“What!”

Suddenly Poe’s words are not the least bit slurred and he’s straightens up rapid, grimacing in pain.

“You heard me,” Finn says flatly.

His heart is hammering in his chest. He doesn’t want to do this, have no idea what it might do to their relationship. But he fears not doing it even more, because there may then not be any relationship then, because there will be no Poe.

“I don’t know what’s going on Poe, but it can’t continue. You keep showing up here because you’ve got hurt and that-” His voice breaks. “That can’t go on. I have no idea what’s happening inside your head, but at this point I’m going to have to assume you’re doing it on purpose. That if not consciously, then subconsciously, you’re trying to get yourself... badly hurt.”

He can’t say ‘killed’, even if that’s what he’s thinking. He just can’t. That thought is too frightening.

“No! Finn. That's- that's not what-” Poe slides off the examination table and cross to stand in front of Finn, a soft, tiny smile on his lips.

Nope, this is not going to work, Finn decides even as he feels his determination falter and crack. Not this time. It’s too serious. If he doesn’t act now, next time it might be Poe’s cold body on that-

Squaring his shoulders and setting his jaw he breaks off that line of thought. He’s not going there. And neither is Poe.

“Save it. I’m your doctor, this is my prescription.”

Poe's smile disappears

“Finn, listen. Please. It's- it’s really, really not what’s going on here. I can see what it might look like to you, from the outside. I really can now that you’ve brought it up, but that’s not it. I promise.”

Finn shakes his head.

“Not good enough. Sorry.”

He doesn't miss the pleading note in Poe’s voice, recalls all too vividly how forcefully he himself had rejected the idea that he had needed professional help with the issues that his life in the First Order had left him with. How stubbornly he had denied that there was anything wrong until he was near collapse. If Poe hadn’t been there to catch him then he might not have survived it. So even if there had been nothing else, returning that favor would be the least he could do.

But there is so much more. The way Poe looking at him makes him feel. The way Finn’s heart starts to race a little too fast when his gets ‘that smile’ from Poe. The late nights they spend in each other’s quarters, playing games, watching old holovids, or just talking. And all the many more things that he would like but tries not to think of because it could wreck the easy peace they find in each other, but that doesn’t stop him from wanting them.

So though his heart keeps beating wildly in his chest Finn brings up the referral file on the datapad and begins to write.

Poe grabs his hand stalling him.

“Finn,” he says softly.

His fingers are warms and strong against Finn’s skin. And Finn can see the scrapes on the knuckles the superficial cut along the back of his hand. It hardens his resolve once more.

“No.” Finn pulls his hand away and star writing again.

“Please. It’s not what you think.”

“No?” Finn says, mostly to keep Poe talking so he won’t try to stop him again, but still somewhere deep down hoping that Poe can present him with an acceptable explanation for all this. Though he can’t for the death of him think of what that could be.

“No.”

He stops writing and looks at the file. He knows he shouldn’t, that doing so increases the likelihood that he won’t complete it at all. But Poe sounds so convincing and part of Finn wants to be convinced.

“Okay then, you have exactly 10 seconds to tell me what it is and convince me why I shouldn’t refer you.”

He shouldn’t do this, shouldn’t give Poe this chance, but isn't it the least he can do? Give the man a chance to explain himself. Ten seconds, he can give him that much. And if he isn’t convinced he’ll complete and send that file.

“It’s not so easy to say,” Poe stalls.

“Ten,” Finn starts counting, as much a reminder to himself that he will continue when he gets to zero as a sign to Poe that he means this. All of it.

“Oh, come on!”

“Nine.”

“I've been trying for ages and can’t-”

“Eight.”

“Find a good way and you-”

“Seven.”

“Expect me to just-”

“Six.

“Blurt it out?”

“Five.

“Okay, okay, okay.”

“Four.”

“I love you.”

“Thr- What?”

His mind can’t parse the words.

He tries again, then a third time. On the fourth they make sense. 'I': personal pronoun, singular, first person. 'Love': verb, meaning to have affection for, to adore. 'You': personal pronoun, singular, second person. I. Love. You.

He knows he should have an emotional reaction to this, to those words, but right now all he can feel is confusion. The words themselves make sense and he should be over the moon, he has wanted to hear them from Poe mouth for as long as he can remember. But they’re so incongruent with the situation, so entirely unexpected, that for several long seconds he just stares dumbfounded at Poe.

“You heard what I said,” Poe says, looking down at his feet, shifting uneasily.

“Right. That makes no sense.”

Poe’s gaze snaps back up, a surprised and injured look on his face.

“How does me loving you not make sense? Come on, you’re smart, funny, capable. Gorgeous as hell. A doctor. How does me being heads over heals for you not make sense?”

The mild outrage in Poe’s voice and on his face is sort of endearing. He seems genuine upset at the thought that Finn might not think it makes sense for Poe to love him. Kinda cute really.

But not the point.

Finn folds his arms.

“So clearly you did not mean love in the fraternal, brothers in arms, kinda a way then?” he says, to buy himself time to process, but also as confirmation. That Poe really means what Finn thinks he does, what he wants it to mean.

“No. I mean, that too, but no.”

“Still doesn’t make sense,” Finn says, shaking his head. “Not that part about you loving me, but this has what to do with you constantly getting hurt?”

“It was an accident. I mean this, the crash. I hadn’t planned it. There was an unexpected branch and the horizontal stabilizers wasn’t up to making a rapid dive.”

“So you planned some of the other things? Is that what you’re trying to tell me? This isn’t really convincing me not to refer you, you know?”

A sharp and noticeable red splotch crawls up Poe’s neck.

“I mean, not planned exactly. Maybe... took advantage of? Stuff that’s already happened?”

“Such as?”

“Remember when I spilled my soup and scalded my leg?”

“Yes.”

“Well, if you hadn’t been on duty then I probably would just have taken care of it myself.”

“But since I was on duty you came here?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Poe squirms.

“So you’d look after me?”

Finn sinks back against the wall and scrubs one hand over his face.

“Let me get this straight. You may or may not have become slightly more accident prone than usual, but mostly you’ve been using the accidents you do have to come here so you could get my attention? Did I get that right?”

“When you say it like that it sounds pretty dumb.”

“It is! Have you ever considered asking me out for caf like a normal person?”

“I wasn’t sure how.”

“You weren’t-” Finn laughs. He can’t not laugh. The whole situation is to damn absurd and a tidal wave of relief adds to his giddiness. Poe looks at him uncertainly before he starts chuckling himself.

When they both quiet down once more Finn goes on, “How about ‘Hey Finn, I really fancy you. Would you like to grab a cup of caf in the mess after your shift?’ How does that sound for you?”

“What would you say to that?”

Finn crosses his arms and grins.

“Try it and see.” He’s not letting Poe off the hook, no matter how relieved he’s feeling that it wasn’t what he thought it was. He’s going to get a proper question out of Poe even if it’s the last thing he does.

“Erm.” Poe clears his throat, looking both embarrassed, wide eyed and more than a little scared. “Finn?”

“Yes.”

“Would you maybe, later, after your shift ends, consider having caf with me?” The last five words are said in such a rush they sound almost like one.

“Was that so hard?” Finn asks. He knows he’s being a little bit mean not giving Poe a straight answer right away, but dammit Poe has had him worry about him for weeks and over nothing apparently. Finn deserves just a little revenge for that.

“Maybe, depends on what your answer is?”

Poe looks so thoroughly miserable and apologetic that Finn decides to abandon any further procrastination with an answer.

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes.”

Poe breaks into a wide grin. Finn feels his heart skip a beat.

“Great!”

“Now get dressed and get out. I have patients who are not lovelorn nerf herders to attend to.”

“I really didn’t mean to crash that speeder bike.”

“I’m sure you didn’t. You can tell me all about all the other things you didn’t mean to do that landed you in my surgery over caf later.”

“You’re not going to let this go, are you?” Poe says as he pulls his shirt back on with some difficulty due to the stiffness of his muscles.

“Not in a million years. It’s your own fault, you could have found a saner way of courting me.”

“Well, since you mention it I’m going to have to find a new way.”

“If it involves my profession in any way I’m dumping you again.”

“Fair enough. And Finn?”

“Yes.”

Poe takes Finn’s hand in his own, raises it to his lips and kisses his knuckles before letting it go again.

Shaking his head Finn snorts and smiles.

“Get out would you.”

“Your wish is my command,” Poe grandly declares.

“Then I command you to stop getting injured. I have enough on my hands without your antics.”

“As you wish.”

Finn lets Poe have the last word. For now. There’ll be plenty to say for both of them later.

#finnpoe #rebelfinn #finn #poe dameron #finnappreciation #mara's stuff

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wistfulcynic · 6 years

Text

A Dream Together

Summary: Killian is stuck in the Enchanted Forest while the woman he loves in in New York with no memory of him. His only consolation is his dreams of her… dreams that are starting to seem disturbingly real. Meanwhile, Emma Swan is starting to have some disturbing dreams of her own.

Notes: This is an idea I had when I started thinking about what to write for Cocktober, but then it started writing itself and now I like it so much I don't want to hold on to it for another two months. Rated M but maybe E, because I still don't really know what the cutoff point is, but what I'm saying is that there's quite a lot of smutty smut. Also, I kinda blame @teamhook for getting me started thinking about whether I could write something purely smutty. Turns out I can’t, and quite a lot of romance snuck in when I wasn’t looking.

Also on AO3

A Dream Together

The night was dark and largely silent, lit only by the stars and by the thin slice of a silvery moon, the only sounds made by the waves against the hull of the Jolly Roger. Killian sat at his desk, flask of rum in hand, idly digging his hook into the wood, tracing a pattern there. When he realised he was carving the outline of a bird with a long, elegant neck, he pulled his hook away and sighed.

She’s gone, mate, he reminded himself, for what must be the thousandth time. You’ve got to stop this

Taking one last swig from the flask, he re-corked it and began preparing for bed. At least in his dreams he’d see her again, if only at the edges of his vision, dancing away from him as he reached for her. He wasn’t sure if that was better or worse than being awake knowing she was in another realm, out of his reach forever. Wearily, he lay back on his pillows and closed his eyes. Normally it took him time to relax enough for sleep to overcome him, but that night his lids had barely closed before he fell into a dream unlike any he’d ever dreamt before.

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

They are on the beanstalk, and he sees her cut her hand on a jagged piece of woody vine. She doesn’t seem to notice. When they reach the top he bandages it for her, watching as awareness and reluctant interest dawn in her eyes as he flirts. He wants to kiss her as he had wanted to then, and this time he goes for it, knowing that he will wake seconds before his lips touch hers… but he doesn’t, and she tastes even better than he’d imagined, her lips hot and welcoming as she tilts her head and opens her mouth, her tongue tangling with his. He groans and suddenly they are in Neverland, devouring each other with hot, greedy kisses, the taste of his rum on her tongue driving him mad. Her hands grip his collar holding him tightly to her even as she pulls away from the kiss. He chases her lips with his and this time she lets him catch them, kissing him even more fiercely than before, letting go of his collar to slide her hands under his coat, pushing it from his shoulders. “Hook,” she whispers in his ear, “I want you.” He moans helplessly and tangles his fingers in her hair, his hook pressed into the small of her back so hard it must be painful, but she simply pulls him closer and purrs “I want you to fuck me,” and he wants that too, gods yes, more than he’s ever wanted anything in the whole of his long life, but not here, not against a rough tree or scrabbling in the dirt of the jungle floor, he won’t take her here… and they are in his cabin on the Jolly Roger, in his bed, naked, she is straddling his hips, her head thrown back, golden hair wild and tumbling over her rosy tipped breasts, which are there within his reach— so he reaches, cupping one in his hand, stroking his thumb across her nipple and she moans. “Do that again,” she says, “that feels amazing,” and Killian marvels at how cooperative his subconscious is being but knows he must wake soon, this can’t last. Her hands slide down his chest as he fondles her breast, and then they are on his cock and he can’t believe he hasn’t woken yet. She strokes him once, twice, then lifts her hips and positions him at her entrance. “Any minute now,” he thinks, but no, she is sliding down onto him and he knows this is a dream but he swears he can feel her tight, wet heat around him, squeezing him as she begins to move. She rides him hard and he grasps her hips, fingers and hook digging into her soft skin as he thrusts up to meet her. She takes his hook and runs it across her body, bringing it down between her legs, just above where they are joined. “Touch me with it,” she demands, and he strokes the cool metal across her clit, making her moan. She’s about to come, and he’s close too, so close, and she leans down and takes his mouth again, kissing him deeply, her tongue in his mouth and her teeth on his lips and he explodes inside her, feeling her walls clench around him as she comes. She collapses on his chest and he wraps his arms tightly around her, his face in her hair, breathing her in, and he knows this is a dream —he thinks he knows it— but it feels so bloody real.

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

Emma jerked awake, gasping and sweating, pleasure and release still coursing through her. Did I just come in my sleep? she thought. Well, that’s embarrassing. Must’ve been a hell of a dream. She tried to remember, grasped at the wisps of the dream that danced just on the edge of her consciousness. She’d been climbing something, then in a jungle, then in a narrow bed in an odd, small room. There had been a man with her each time, the same man. She couldn’t quite remember his face, just a pair of bright blue eyes, a deep voice, a rough hand that felt amazing on her skin and something metal? Something sharp and dangerous that she’d somehow known wouldn’t hurt her.

It had all felt so real. She squeezed her thighs together, prepared to swear that the dream man had been between them not moments before, stretching and filling her, his cock deep inside her, driving her to heights she would never have imagined possible. Which of course it wasn’t. It wasn’t possible that she’d just had hot sex with a pair of blue eyes attached to a man she couldn’t remember because she was here in her apartment in New York, alone. Of course she was.

But maybe not for long, she thought, remembering her date from the night before. At least that man’s face she could picture in her mind. It was a nice enough face, nothing remarkable, but charming in the kind of dorky way that she actually really liked, with a wide smile and friendly eyes. Walsh was his name, from the furniture store. She could remember that too. So why did he seem so much less vivid than the faceless man from her dream?

Well, never mind, Walsh was perfectly nice and Henry liked him. She was going out with him again next week, and actually looking forward to it. The dream would fade, as they always did, and in the meantime she had to make the best she could of her reality.

* * *

Killian awoke slowly, his body sated but his mind troubled. He felt guilty and tainted. To take sexual pleasure from dreams of a woman who didn’t know him felt intrusive and wrong. It felt like a violation, and he cringed at the idea of what Emma would think if she knew. He had vowed in Storybrooke that he would live his life in a way that was worthy of her, even if she was lost to him forever he still wanted to be someone she could value. Yet here he was, failing at every test of his resolve, first by double crossing Ariel to get his ship back, now by coming into his sheets dreaming of Emma. Perhaps he’d never be anything but a pirate, he thought in disgust, taking what he wanted no matter whom it hurt.

He ran his hand down his face, unable to keep the images from his dream from flooding his mind. They were unusually vivid, as the entire dream had been, and also unusually for a dream he’d been aware somehow that he was dreaming. He had recognised as they’d climbed the dream beanstalk and kissed in the dream Neverland that they had been in those places before, with far different outcomes. And then finally on the dream ship, where in reality they had never been together, his favourite fantasy of her coming so almost-true, seeming so painfully real…

“Argh!” he growled, flinging himself out of bed and grabbing his clothes. It was just a bloody dream, he told himself. You need to stop obsessing. Emma is gone, this nonsense must end. For your own good, mate.

Grimly determined, he flung his coat around his shoulders and headed up to the deck to do some pirating.

One week later…

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

Killian is in a room he’s never seen before, similar to the rooms he’d visited in Storybrooke but sleeker somehow, full of bright, soft furniture and plants in pots. The door opens and he turns to see Emma, her slim body sheathed in a red dress that makes his mouth go dry, her hair tousled around her beautiful face. He wants to grab her with greedy hands and never let go, but he resists.“Swan,” he manages to croak, “What are you doing here?”

Her eyes are wide. “Hook,” she breathes, like she’s just found something she thought was lost forever. “What are you doing here? This is my apartment.”

“It is?” He turns to look out one of the windows, recognising the tall, grey buildings from his last visit to New York. “How the bloody hell did I—”

His words are cut off by her lips as she grabs his collar and pulls him to her, in a replay of Neverland. “I don’t care how you’re here or why,” she pants, breaking the kiss only long enough to wrap her arms around his neck and sink her fingers into his hair. “I only care that you’re here. I’ve missed you so much.”

She fuses her lips to his again and he is there to meet her, mating her tongue with his as he caresses her hair, tangling his fingers in it. They exchange deep, wet kisses for several long moments, drowning in the intense pleasure of each other’s mouths. She pulls away to catch her breath and trails kisses down his neck as he runs his hand and hook down her body, slipping them beneath the short skirt of her dress and pulling it up over her hips. He slides his hand between her legs and moans at the slick heat he finds there. “Gods, Emma, you’re so wet already.”

“I’m always wet around you,” she says. “It’s damned annoying.”

He chuckles and strokes her, rubbing his thumb over her clit and sliding two fingers inside her, curling them against her most sensitive spot. Her breathing is rough and frantic and she grips his shoulders desperately. “I want you inside me,” she moans.

“I believe I’m already in—” he begins, but she cuts him off, her voice tinged with frustration.

“Your cock, Hook,” she says, “I want it inside me. Now.” …. abruptly they are in a bed, a large one with soft, pale sheets. Their clothes are gone and they are twined around each other. “Where are we?” he asks, and she looks around.

“I don’t recognise it,” she replies, “And I don’t care.”

She wraps her legs around his waist and he rubs his cock through her folds, coating it in her moisture before thrusting it inside her with one smooth stroke. She moans and digs her heels into his ass, her fingernails carving half-moons into the skin of his shoulders. He buries his hook into the wooden headboard for leverage as he thrusts hard and deep, his hand stroking down her body, over her hip and up her thigh then back down to curve around her ass and pull her hips even more tightly into his.

“Fuck,” she gasps, “Fuck, yes, right there.”

She tightens her inner walls around him and he falters and bites back a curse, fighting off the release that threatens to break over him through sheer force of will.”Don’t do that again,” he growls, “if you want this to last.” He picks up the pace again, marvelling at how this could be happening, even in a dream. She feels so incredibly good around him, warm and wet, and her hair smells like sunshine and he loves her, despite his best efforts not to, and he wants to stay buried inside her forever. But she’s making little choked noises in her throat and he knows she’s nearly there, so he brings his hand back up between their bodies and presses his thumb lightly against her clit then watches in awe as she shatters beneath him. He thrusts twice more, savouring the feeling of her quivering around him and then he follows her into oblivion.

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

Emma was still quivering when she awoke, immediately aware that another dream of the mysterious man had ended in another stunningly intense orgasm. She remembered this dream more clearly than the last, remembered everything, she thought, except the man’s face. She remembered how badly she’d wanted him, how astoundingly quickly he’d turned her on— a brush of his fingers over her hair, a stroke of his tongue against hers and she was dripping and desperate. She remembered how right he’d felt inside her, how every touch of his body on hers had been exactly what she needed, what she desperately craved. Thank fuck for dreams, she thought. Sex like that doesn’t happen in real life. At least, not in her experience.

She’d known him, she realised. She was comfortable with him, trusted him. Trusted him enough to give herself over to him completely in bed. She never did that.

Who was he?

And why was she having sex dreams about him each time she went on a date with Walsh?

Okay, it had only been twice. Two dates, two sex dreams. Two wasn’t a pattern.

But it was the beginning of a pattern.

Emma had another date with Walsh the day after tomorrow. She was already excited for it.

For the dream far more than for the date.

* * *

Killian groaned, cursing his weakness. He’d done it again, woken up drenched in his own cum, his mind flooded with images from his dream, images of sex with Emma so real they felt like actual memories, so real he could still taste her, could still feel her pulsing around his softening cock.

He’d hoped the first dream was just a fluke, and when a week had gone by in which Emma appeared in his dreams only as he expected to find her there, just on the edges, always outside the range of his grasp, he had begun to relax.

And now this. Worse than the first one in many ways, set entirely in unfamiliar places, his dream Emma speaking words the real one would never utter, telling him she wanted him, that she missed him, when that was impossible. She didn’t even remember him.

Where had the apartment come from, he wondered. He had little experience within the living spaces of her realm, and her apartment in his dream had borne little resemblance to the rooms above Granny’s or her parents’ loft. How had his mind conjured it? He recalled a conversation he’d overheard whilst handcuffed to a bed in Storybrooke’s hospital. Dr Whale speaking to a nurse about Belle. “There’s a lot about the mind we don’t know,” he’d said, “It sometimes works in ways we can’t anticipate.” Perhaps the answer was that simple. His mind was working in ways he could never have anticipated, producing things he was struggling to process. He wished it would stop. At this rate, he was never going to get over Emma.

Let’s be honest, mate, getting over her was always a long shot, whispered a voice in his head. Look how long it took you to get over Milah, and you love Emma far more deeply— “Enough!” said Killian aloud, quieting the voice. “I may never stop loving Emma, but that doesn’t mean I want to be plagued with dreams of fucking her every evening, dreams that seem real even when I know they can never be. Men have been driven mad by less.”

The day after tomorrow…

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

Emma is already there when Killian arrives in the dream. She lounges on the bed, draped in a thin bedsheet and nothing else. It’s the same bed they were in before, only this time he can see that the bed is in a room in what seems to be a house, a room with large windows that are open, curtains billowing, the breeze carrying a hint of the sea.

“Where are we?” he asks her.

“I told you before, I don’t recognise it. Though I think it might be in Storybrooke.”

“How is it that you remember Storybrooke, Swan? How is it that you remember me?”

She shrugs. “It’s a dream. I won’t remember these details when I wake up.”

“It doesn’t feel like a dream.”

“It doesn’t, does it? But it must be, or I wouldn’t do this.” She lets the sheet slip off her shoulder, revealing her bare breasts and taut stomach, and the merest hint of the golden curls between her thighs. He swallows hard, his eyes drinking in her loveliness, and he realises that she is eyeing him in a similar way. He looks down and sees that he is naked, his cock standing up hard and proud, and bobbing slightly. He looks up again and meets her eyes.

“You’re so hot, Hook,” she sighs. “I can’t believe you’re even hotter out of your ridiculous pirate clothes. Are you going to come over here and fuck me, or what?”

He hesitates. If this is a dream, he has no reason to hide his desires. “I wish you’d call me Killian,” he says.

“Killian,” she repeats, and holds out her arms to him. “Come here.”

He wastes no more time, crawling into the bed and into her arms, feeling her wrap them tightly around him as he sinks down onto her, kissing her deeply, stroking his hand down her thigh and over her hip, then up her torso to cup her breast and rub his thumb across her nipple in the way he now knows she loves. She moans into his mouth as her fingers comb through the hair on his chest and she runs the ball of her foot up his calf and thigh before hooking her leg around his waist, urging him to thrust into her. But Killian realises that this dream is different: it seems less rushed, there’s no change of venue, their passion is softer and less wild than before. If he can’t prevent these dreams, he reasons, he might as well enjoy them, might as well take the opportunity to do to his dream Emma everything he longs to do to the real one. He snags her ankle with his hook and unwraps her leg from his waist, draping it over his shoulder as he kisses down her chest, pauses briefly to lick her nipple and suck it lightly between his teeth before trailing kisses down over her stomach stopping just above the apex of her thighs. He breathes deeply, inhaling the musky scent of her arousal, and she releases an unsteady breath. “Killian…” she says shakily. Her toes curl in anticipation and her hands fist themselves in the bedsheets.

“Brace yourself, love,” he teases, and dives in.

He licks her more roughly than he intended, the blood pounding in his ears and his own intense arousal robbing him of his usual finesse, but she doesn’t seem to mind. She moans and grips the sheets even more tightly. “More,” she demands, “More of that.”

He is happy to comply, stroking his tongue through her rosy flesh, dipping it inside her, swirling the tip around her clit, almost but not quite exactly where she wants him. She makes a choked, frustrated sound and he looks up at her through his lashes.

“What do you want, Swan?” he growls. “Tell me.”

“I want you to lick me,” she says. “Lick my clit and suck on it, hard. Make me come.”

He is desperate to please her, but this is his dream, and he can have what he wants. He hovers over her, letting her feel his breath on her swollen nub. “Beg,” he tells her.

Her breath hitches in excitement but she shakes her head. “Never.”

He blows a soft stream of air on her, holding her down as she pumps her hips, trying to reach him. “Beg me, Swan,” he commands in his pirate captain voice.

She resists for all of five seconds. ��Fuck,” she groans, “Fuck, Killian, please.” The pleading in her voice is genuine. “I’m begging you, damn it, make me come.”

“You had only to ask, darling,” he purrs, and latches his mouth onto her, sucking her between his lips and swiping his tongue roughly across her most sensitive spot. She comes almost instantly, with a hoarse scream, and he continues to lick her through it, prolonging her pleasure. She is boneless and shaking, but he shows her no mercy. Keeping her legs draped over his shoulders, he rises to his knees and thrusts himself inside her so hard she gasps, and braces her hands on the headboard to stop her head from slamming into it. He buries his hook in the wood again and lets himself go, fucking her hard and deep, knowing that here in his dream she will take whatever it pleases him to give her. She whimpers helplessly, her breath rasping in her throat. He wants her to come again, wants to come with her, to tumble into ecstasy together. He caresses her breast, more roughly this time, flicking the nipple with his thumb as he leans down to whisper in her ear. “You’re so beautiful, Emma,” he moans, “So beautiful when you come. Come for me again, love.” With a choked moan she does as he asks, digging her heels into his shoulders. Her walls clench around him, making him gasp as he explodes deep inside her. He rips his hook from the headboard and collapses, gathering her close to his side. He buries his face in her hair, knowing the dream is nearly over, needing to speak before it ends.

“I love you, Emma,” he whispers. “You know that, don’t you?”

She nods. “I know. I— I have feelings for you too, Killian.”

They aren’t the words he longs to hear, but they are more than he ever thought he’d have, more than he could hope for anywhere but in his dreams. They are enough. He cuddles her close, clinging to her as the dream dissolves around them.

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

This time, the dream left Emma tangled in her sheets, limp and sated but with a strange yearning ache in her chest. The dream man had said he loved her, and she had recognised the truth in his words, felt that she had known it for some time. She had wanted to say the words back to him, but something had stopped her, had stopped the words in her throat, stopped her from voicing what she knew to be true.

Who the fuck was he? Where was he? Was he even real? How could she feel so strongly about a man who existed only in her mind? She felt that there were important details of her dreams that she couldn’t remember, things like his face, for one, and his name, which she was sure he’d told her, and how they knew each other so well that she would allow him such intimacies as he had demanded from her the night before.

She needed to see him again, and she rather thought she knew how he could be summoned. Three dates, three sex dreams. Three was a pattern. She needed to go out with Walsh again, and soon.

* * *

He was going to have to start washing his own sheets, Killian thought wryly, lest his crew take notice of his evident lack of self-control. He wondered a bit bleakly how long these dreams would continue. Each was more intense, more detailed than the last, and though there had been only three he feared that if they did not cease soon he might come to depend on them. A world where he could touch Emma in any way he pleased and she would welcome it, where he could speak his feelings openly to her, even though he knew it wasn’t real that was a powerful temptation indeed. Killian had seen men succumb to sirens, seen them taken in by pixie dust and Pan’s tricks in Neverland. He had felt nothing but pity for those men and their weakness, their inability to deal with reality, their preference for pleasant fiction over harsh fact. He had fought for much of his life against the lure of easy fantasy, yet now for the first time in nearly three hundred years he felt that he would happily leave reality behind, if it meant he could be with Emma.

And that, he thought to himself, is how men go mad.

* * *

Walsh held Emma’s hand as he walked her to her door. “I’ve really enjoyed our time together, Emma,” he said with a shy smile, and she nodded absently, her mind already consumed by thoughts of the night’s imminent dream. “Maybe you could come to my place tomorrow, and I’ll cook you dinner?” he suggested, and she jolted out of her reverie. “Tomorrow?” she said, trying not to sound too excited. Two sex dreams in a row, could she handle it? She decided she could. “Yeah, tomorrow will be great. See you then.” She gave him a light kiss on the cheek then turned away and entered her building, so eager to get to sleep that she entirely failed to notice the way Walsh’s happy smile twisted into something dark and menacing the moment her back was turned.

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

Killian can tell immediately that this dream is different. There is no soft bed, no familiar surroundings. Instead, he stands in the yard of a farmhouse, icy wind swirling snow around him, chilling him to his bones. He looks for Emma, but she is not there.

“Swan!” he calls.

He hears her reply, faint and distant. “Killian!” she cries, and there is fear in her voice. He runs towards it, into the woods. There is the sound of wings, then a crash, then Emma shrieks in terror, and his heart nearly stops. He runs faster, bursting into a clearing and skidding to a halt, horrified at the sight that meets his eyes. Emma is standing with her back to a tree, a thick branch in her hands, fighting off what appear to be monkeys with wings. One approaches her and she swings the branch at it. It bursts into dust, sending her spinning with the force of her swing, and before she can regain her footing another monkey is upon her. Killian draws his cutlass and attacks it, swinging his sword in a wide arc that catches two of the simians at once. As they explode into particles, Killian snags Emma’s coat with his hook and pulls her behind him, stabbing a third monkey as it swoops at them. The final remaining monkey makes a grab for Emma, but she flings her branch at it, and when its dust clears Killian and Emma are alone. He drops his sword and spins around, pulling her roughly into his arms. “Are you all right, Swan?” he asks, brushing her hair back from her face as she closes her arms tightly around him and buries her face in his neck.

“I’m fine,” she replies. “They just took me by surprise. Killian, it— it was Walsh.”

“Who?”

“Walsh. I’m kind of dating him.” “You’re dating a flying monkey?”

“Well, obviously I didn’t know he was a flying monkey when I started dating him,” she snaps, and he is relieved that she has recovered enough to snark at him. She pulls out of his embrace and looks around. “I want to get out of here,” she says, and Killian does too but this dream is not as accommodating as the previous ones, and the clearing stubbornly refuses to change.

Emma gasps, and he follows her gaze to where a tall, skinny man stands sneering at them. “Walsh,” she says in surprise, “I thought I’d—”

“Oh, it’s not that easy to get rid of me,” taunts Walsh. “I’ll be seeing you very soon, Emma, and when I do you’ll have forgotten all of this. You’ll remember it, of course, Hook, not that it will do you any good. I’m in her realm, and soon I’ll be in her bed and in her heart, and she’ll be in my control.”

Killian snarls and lunges at Walsh, but the dream begins to swirl around them and the other man is gone. He turns and reaches for Emma, holding her close as the dream pulls at them, tries to tear them apart. “I’m coming for you, Swan,” he says fiercely, even as the dream rips her from his arms. “I love you and I am coming to find you, I swear it.”

She tries to hold on, clinging to his hand for as long as she can. “Killian, I lo—,” she says, and then everything is black.

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

Killian was out of bed and half dressed before he even fully awoke. The images from the dream were pounding in his brain, filling him with an urgency that bordered on panic. He knew now beyond any doubt that the dream was real, that they had all been real. Emma was in danger and he had to get to her, somehow, and soon, before she saw the monkey-man again. His options were slim. He knew of only one way to move through realms, and that was with a magic bean, and he knew of only one way to get a magic bean. He also knew what the price for it was likely to be. His heart twisted at thought of paying it, but he did not hesitate. Emma needed him and there was nothing he wouldn’t do for her, nothing he wouldn’t sacrifice to save her. He paused for one last long look at his ship, then turned away and moved purposefully through the crowds towards the darkest corner of Tortuga.

* * *

Emma awoke feeling deeply rested and crushingly disappointed. There had been no dream, no blue-eyed man with his rough but gentle hand and his deep voice that rumbled through her body when he held her close. So much for my pattern, she thought.

She wanted to cry, which was ridiculous. She was a grown woman with a child to look after, not a lovesick teenager weeping because she’d missed seeing her crush.

Dragging herself out of bed she headed for the kitchen to make breakfast.

Pancakes today, she thought, I definitely need some pancakes.

Emma and Henry had just sat down to breakfast when there was a knock at the door. They exchanged surprised looks.

“Someone coming over?” asked Henry.

“No,” said Emma, eyes widening as the knock came again, louder and more insistent this time. “Henry, wait here,” she said, getting up and switching off the radio as she went to the door. She opened it, and gaped for a moment at the man on the other side. He was dressed head to toe in black leather, somehow looking much less ridiculous and far more attractive than he should have in such a getup. She had never seen his face before, but his eyes… she caught her breath.

She knew those eyes.

“Swan,” he said, looking at her like she was the most precious thing in the world to him, and she knew his voice too, recognised the way it spoke her name.

“I know you can’t remember me, but—”

She did remember him, though. How could she not? He was literally the man of her dreams.

Driven by instinct, she grabbed the collar of his absurd coat and pulled his lips to hers, into a kiss that was achingly familiar.

Bright white light burst from their joined lips, and Emma remembered.

She remembered him.

She remembered everything.

"A dream you dream alone is only a dream. A dream you dream together is reality." --Yoko Ono

#captain swan #cs ff #cs ff au #smut #feels #romance

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tellywoodtrash · 6 years

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ishqbaaz 21.08.18 lb

dang. straight to the point.

telling how the chunri slipped from her head right then.

lmao nikhil’s insecurity isn’t gonna be gone thanks to the divorce you dummy. his insecurity is wrt to A. your very large bank balance, and B. the raw sexual chemistry you seem to have with his girl.

idk what utopia shivaay lives in where a divorce in india is gotten SOOOOOOOO easily.

anika trying desperately to taalofy. good move, girl.

FUCK. FOILED. THIS FUCKER IS CARRYING A COPY IN HIS COAT POCKET AT ALL TIMES IT SEEMS. ONE TIGHT SLAP HE NEEDS. ASSHOLE.

lol he’s sooooooooo going to fuck up the papers. consciously or subconsciously idk, but he’s gonna do it for sure.

pehle aap pehle aap mein gaadi chootti jaa rahi hai fucking idiotsssssssss!

fuck he’s signing. HE’S SIGNING. FUCKING HELL BILLU NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!

DUDE LOOK AT HER FACE. DOES SHE LOOK LIKE SHE WANTS YOU TO??????????

iska adh-maraa chehra toh dekho while signing. chaanta lagaaon ya kya karoon iske saath?

where the fuck is om, he needs to bust in here and kick shivaay’s dumb ass from here back to the OU istg.

LMAO AT THE WAY THEY’RE JUST SAYING “SIGN” “WAIT” “MR KUKREJA” IN VARYING ORDERS.

snort pen ke bhi issues.

“chal raha hai” *grabs at it and clicks it a few times* SHIVAAY WHAT EVEN ARE YOU DOINGGGGGGGGGG YOU DUMBASS

abhi tak toh sign sign kar raha tha. jab woh sign kar rahi hai then you have the audacity to be all frozen and devastated? literally fuck outta here, shivaay.

of course.

a poor substitute for her chand bracelet btw.

of course, anika has gyaan to baatofy. bish tum toh kuch bolo hi mat. tangg aa gayi hoon main tumhare chutiyaape se.

shivaay you’re right and all, but *longest sigh ever* you just can’t do anything right, even when you try your hardest. i’m just so done with you.

son honestly. 87% of me is very happy at your tadap but the rest of me is just so sad for you. you poor dumb fucker.

also are they dyeing nakuul’s beard these days? it looks... darker in a not-natural way?

ugh you both are justtttttttttt suchhhhhhhhhhhhhh idiotssss.

but the angst! i loveeeeee it. delicious!

where are rikara, honestly??????????? THEY COULD BE USED SO WELL TO FUCK ALL OF THISSSSSSS UP SO SPECTACULARLY. USSI BAHAANE SCREEN PAR BHI DIKH JAAYENGE. WHY AREN’T YOU USING THEM YOU DUMBASS SHOW?!?!!?!?

oh thank god at least gauri’s here.

om’s here too. but that’s not what i want???? i want them togetherrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. schemingggggggggggg. all up and close in each other’s facessssssssss as a bahaana of “plan making”.

ah fuck. he’s crying. that soft “ek minute, om.” the wiping his nose like a child. i can actuallllly feeeeeeeeeeeeeeel that tightness in his chest. ah mannnnnnnnnnnn.

fuck meeeeeeeee, why do i fall for man-pain, every single timeeeeeeee???????

this framing tells me that something is going to get hurled at the camera real soon. phone? that rack? aur kuch hai kya phenkne laayak yahaan?

rack it is.

lol why was om panicking from just hearing the magazines being thrown tho?

fuck. see? this is what i meannnnnnnnnnnnnn when i say this dude’s best acting is non verbal. just never give him lines ever again.

“main theek hoon. tu bataa, kya discuss karna hai?”

lmaooooooooooooo “bitch really???????” om’s face. honestly, he makes suchhhhh a good audience proxy.

sure. aal iz well.

same, gauri. #same.

ooooh khanna gets snack tasting duty. nice. how to get a job like this?

but like, without having to deal with shivaay as a boss. at all.

eeeeeeeeeeee cuteness!

every time gauri maarofies a taana about “aapke bhai” and om agrees, i get 4 days added to my lifespan.

....... and who the fuck is bhaiyya to “strictly” decide the wedding theme?????? neither the bride nor the groom, so how does his opinion even matter?

lol anika has the same point to make. itna sab kuch kar liya hai toh yeh bhi khud hi decide kar le bc.

UGH THESE TWO ADORABLE MOTHERFUCKERS. I WANNA SMOOSH THEM TOGETHER TO FORM A S’MORE FILLED WITH BEAUTY AND LOVE.

is khulle saand ko laal ka phobia hai? really?

the way gauri keeps looking towards ommmmmmmmm every single time, to bond over the inside joke, i can’t you guys! i just can’t! can you two just go make out in some corner somewhere??!?!!? why are you wasting your timeeeee hereee with these losers????????//

cyoot patoot. too adorbz.

ANIKA HE LOOKS NICE IN HIS NEUTRALS OK. PLS. APNE TAANO SE DON’T MAKE HIM CHANGE INTO OU ADVENTUROUS SSO. MAIN JHEL NAHI PAAUNGI!

lolwhut did om just say “oh my my!”?????????????????

pffffffffffffffffffft om you adorable creep. use these sexy hands of yours on that cute girl there, not on your damn brother.

baby sisters the cutest.

gauri out here kholofying all of di’s secrets. maine toh pehle hi kaha tha, yeh ghar ka bhedi hi lankaa dhaa degi.

also pool ka mention and paani ka darrrr means we all know what’s gonna happen!

om that’s a really dumb “solution”. one of these things is not like the other. the colour red cannot actually kill your brother. lord.

ohohoho unintentional emo moment in middle of hasi mazaak.

this is the dumbest fucking “challenge” ever to get them both in the damn pool. like... just have her fall in man.

lmao he’s sooooooooooooooo mad at being challenged tho.

not listening to this ainvayi ka chutiyaap because:

UGHHHHHHHHHH WHAT EVEN ARE THESE FACES!?!?!

lmao this is the most accurate pictorial representation of the sibling dynamics here rn.

god, what even are these technicolour kapde. i feel like i’m dropping acid.

lmao she’s sooooooooo bored.

omggggg i love how she noped outta that convo with nikhil to go talk to om instead!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

be still my aniKara loving heart!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! also #omkaraIsBae

LMAOOOOOOO THE TWO BABY SISTERS’ REACTIONS ARE BEST.

matlab maanna padega is bande ke confidence ko. looking smug wearing... THAT.

you know it’s true love when you’re dressed like that and she looks at you like THIS. #loveisblind

lol ok shivaay, enough with the smizing already. you’re way too short to be ANTM.

lolololol chachi’s reaction.

talk about upstaging the damn bride. how fucking rude, shivaay.

but i guess the bride explicitly asked for it so......

i cannot get over the range of emotions om went through in the last 30 secs:

lmaooooooooooo and finally his kinda proud mama hen look, like “see? see how hot my bhai is? abhi bhi der nahi hui hai bhaabi!”:

ugh ok enough of this slo mo nonsense already.

oh great. naach gaana. i actually like this song though. imma just forward around a lil bit to see if there’s any good rikara bits, though lorddddddd, kunal’s dancing is just *shudder*

TFW THE WEDDING PLANNER (WHO’S BRIBING YOU TO GET MARRIED IN THE FIRST PLACE) AND YOUR TO-BE WIFE ARE EYE-SEXING EACH OTHER AND NO ONE GIVES ONE (1) SINGLE FUCK ABOUT YOU.

wow even chachi is shipping shivika now. such is the power of colour coordinated couples.

THIS IS SO RANDOM. WHY’S HE DANCING WITH HER WHILE NIKHIL IS STANDING THERE??????????? AND THE LAMEASS CHALLENGE WAALE ISHAARE BS. AND THE FACT THAT THEY MADE RIKARA AND PRINKU THE BG DANCERS??????????? THIS IS ALL JUST SUCHHHHHHHH BAKCHODI OF THE HIGHEST ORDER AND I CAN’T STOP CRINGE LAUGHING.

same, saasumaa. honestly, #same.

but then he’s paying for the whole wedding. so let him dance with her, i guess. lol.

bro this isn’t appropriate in desi society even if you’re the fucking groom!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WHAT EVEN ARE YOU DOING?!?!?!!??!?

LMAOOOOOOO CHACHI THO.

literalllllllllllllllly no fucks given. amaaaaaaaaaazing. the balls on these two. i have no words. honestly.

lmaooooooooo poooora gaana hone ke baad, after finishing his grind up on the bride, shivaay pulls nikhil in as an afterthought. just... what a guyyyyy.

THEY STILL WON’T STOP EYE-FUCKING OMG YOU GUYS I JUST CACKLED OUT SO LOUD THAT I STARTLED THE CAT AWAKE. JFC. THESE TWO ARE JUST SOMETHING ELSE.

someone please get kunal some anti seizure meds for the epileptic fit he’s currently having.

(i’m sorry! he’s just SO BAD. WHY DO THEY MAKE HIM DANCEEEEEEEEE???????????)

I LEGIT HAD TO PAUSE THE VIDEO COZ I’M LAUGHING SO HARD. THIS POOR DUMBASS. I DON’T THINK ALL THE MONEY IS WORTH THIS BEIZZATI.

ohohohoh. time for dream sequence.

i mean i like this song and all, but come on, it’s fucking 10 years old. why not something nice and new? the dhadak title track really fits them rn. ugh.

also the choreography is really some trite bs. honestly, some effort would have been nice.

i’m just here for the aesthetic (uski toh inhone dhaijjiyaan uda di) good looking ppl making gooey eyes at each other.

OMFG WE GET BOTH POOL MAKING OUT *AND* THE RETURN OF TIA TOMORROW?!?!?!?!? GOD BLESS US ALL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

#ishqbaaz #ishqbaaaz #ib episode liveblogs #episode liveblogs

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hcpefulmarshmallow · 6 years

Text

Let’s talk about Nagito’s family, because in this house, we like to suffer, I guess. I’ve toyed with a few different ideas and themes, some of which I eventually encountered too many errors in to keep, and some which I ultimately decided work. Everything below will henceforth serve as the official basis for how I portray family ties and Ko’s past on this blog, and I’ll try to be as matter-of-fact about it as I can, but...you know me. It’s worth mentioning that I’m not judging anyone’s real-life situation, nor am I judging anyone else’s interpretation of how Ko’s life went down. Interpretation first, reasoning another time if you really want to stick around for that hot mess. I tried to be as self-explanatory as I could, and linked back to my own posts in places that needed it, but if there’s anything that I feel is worth delving into later, I will. I kinda wanted to make something that ties into and explains who he is now, and ties as seamlessly as I can manage into what he’s told us; but also sounds exactly like the kind of thing that’d happen to this poor bastard, if you know what I mean.

Hc: Nagito’s parents were very well-off, hard-working and successful. However, they were also very distant - from their son and their own respective families - and cold. They had Nagito not because they especially wanted children per se, but rather to have someone to pass on their name and legacy. Being the type of people to care a lot about status, they wanted their child to grow up to be every bit as intelligent, well-respected and successful as them. Intelligent, he certainly was, and without ever really trying; but Nagito never had much interest in what his parents did. Like most little boys, he wanted to do something cool and exciting. A big part of his childhood was spent wanting to be a pilot, but that’s hardly an elite job, now, is it?

Rather than see if he grows out of it, or better yet accept their son for who he is, Nagito’s parents actively discouraged him from anything they didn’t approve of by shunning him until and unless he acted the way they wanted him to; perfect, polite, smart, and most of all, unemotional. They would dismiss his feelings and ignore his various attention-grabbing escapades; and this on top of their busy work schedules lead Nagito to believe he was just an inherently bad child. That, and how his parents would look down on non-elites; instilling the worthy and worthless mindset in their son, as well as his belief that you shouldn’t try if you know you’ll fail.

Nagito felt helpless to drop his interests for them. No matter how much he studied and tried to change his mind, he couldn’t change his heart. He continued to like dogs, and planes, and childish things. He felt doomed to disappoint, leading him to believe that worth is instilled at birth, and if you are worthless, there’s nothing you can do. He coupled himself with lowly trash, and thus began his worship of those made for greatness, and those who achieve greatness despite their hangups. Over time, this developed into the warped obsession with talent we all know of.

Nagito’s parents eventually caved to their son’s constant harping for a pet, seeing it as a chance to perhaps make him mature a bit, and certainly to get him off their tails all the time. Being a kid who didn’t make friends easily and was left to his own devices a lot - only adding to his perceived inadequacies - he treasured his new companion like the most precious thing in the world. And, well, we all know how that played out.

He named the dog Lucky - because irony’s a bitch - and he was the first thing to show such undying love and loyalty to Nagito. What he couldn’t get from his parents; comfort, support, attention; he got from his dog. This, of course, made the pup’s death, which Nagito always blamed himself for, all the more devastating, never mind the careless driver or lack of adult supervision. Since this was his first incident of major bad luck, a force which would go on to destroy everything he touches, he blames himself wholeheartedly for everything that followed.

After losing his best friend and emotional crutch, Nagito became severely depressed. He wouldn’t eat, wouldn’t sleep, wouldn’t even pick up a book. This lead to him becoming quite ill, and actually being hospitalised. After that health scare, his parents finally took notice of how terribly their son was suffering, and made an effort for the first time in his life. They didn’t become good parents overnight, but they tried. The odd pat on the shoulder here, a “how was your day?” there, even a family outing to an amusement park, which Nagito considers one of the best days of his childhood.

But the more time they spent with Nagito, the more things seemed to go wrong. Little things, like coffee spills ruining their expensive clothing, to big things like giant deals falling through. And these things only happened when he was around. Subconsciously or consciously, he still doesn’t know, they distanced themselves from him once more. This double-rejection was devastating, annihilating whatever self-worth the young elementary schooler still had.

The only reason they took him to San Cristóbal was due to a business retreat that encouraged families to come along. Appearances still meant more than anything. The trip itself was uneventful, but it was on the flight home that this plane-loving wannabe-pilot lost his mother and father, and gained a lifelong fear of flying, and a cemented suspicion that had been growing for some time now that all the bad things that kept happening were all his fault. All because of a meteor the size of a fist (that possibly caused the plane to crash; and personally I think he may have been a sole survivor).

After the deaths of his parents, Nagito was shunted from relative to relative, though understand that term is used in a strictly biological sense. Most of these people he’d met maybe once or twice, if at all. The freedom to which he so often refers to as a result of his parents dying is both freedom from being constantly afraid for his mother and father, but also freedom to do almost whatever he wanted. He was, essentially, a stranger to these people, who all already had their own lives and jobs and children. Nagito long suspected that the only reason anyone took him at all was because no one wants to be the asshole that won’t take in their orphaned kid cousin or nephew or whatever.

(NB: My basis for that he had a lot of family but not many close friends, please recall; we see how his luck targets people close to him, yet he goes out of his way to mention that his luck only targeted him directly and gave him a terminal illness when he had no relatives left. His luck began in elementary school or possibly earlier when his dog died, and he was diagnosed right before entering Hope’s Peak. Personally, I think the idea of him having a lot of relatives he’s not close to makes sense, and it’d just be his luck that they’re all dickheads.)

But of course, every time, something would happen. Some major disaster, and only ever when Nagito was around. And he would always benefit it in some way. He never goes into detail, but sometimes it involved a financial loss, sometimes a physical one, once or twice or maybe many more, even death. He quickly gained a reputation, and relatives became more and more reluctant to accept him. Furthermore, not a single aunt or uncle among them were especially loving. No one ever stopped to maybe ask this kid if he was okay, help him through his grief, ease his guilt or burden. He was no less an accessory than he’d ever been. Sometimes the family members were fine. They’d mostly ignore him, sometimes hold a conversation, until The Thing inevitably happened. Sometimes they were downright horrible. After a particularly violent episode with a drunk Uncle, Nagito ran, and that’s when he was found and kidnapped.

After that, he was deemed a troubled child, and placed in a home. The other children isolated him; this strange kid that strange things happened around, with a penchant for mumbling to himself. He never really minded. They were just like the rest of the people he’d known -- filler, and nothing more. Eventually he, fell ill. This was when he received his terminal diagnosis, and shortly after, acceptance letter into Hope’s Peak.

#(that got...long...and ouch)#long post/#ʀᴇᴘᴏʀᴛ ᴄᴀʀᴅ [headcanons]#ʀᴇᴘᴏʀᴛ ᴄᴀʀᴅ [blog canon]#(but yeah; detailed enough to form a coherent timeline but not so much that i'm in a box is what i'm going for)#(also sorry if it's rambly i'm tired and i was trying to avoid errors etc)

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