#the river scene really threw me for a loop because of this

[moscarific]

1984 for the ask thing. :)

Well, this sure did become a thing.

Film

This Is Spinal Tap - Almost forty years later, I have not stopped laughing at this movie. When I saw it as a kid, the mockumentary style threw me for a loop in the best way, because I was so used to seeing comedy that was showy and carefully timed, and the humor here feels off-the-cuff and real. Everything in my home goes up to 11.

The Muppets Take Manhattan - This film does not actually hold up except for the music, but the scene with Miss Piggy and Joan Rivers turned me into a 5-year-old drag queen.

The NeverEnding Story - Am I too old to harbor a tiny hope that I will someday step into a book and become the hero of its story? And get to ride on a big fluffy white dragon?

The Adventures of Buckaroo Banzai Across the 8th Dimension - It has been a couple of decades since I first watched this in college - drunk and/or high at midnight in the college theater - and I still have no idea what the fuck I just saw. But I'm pretty sure it was awesome.

Ghostbusters - My dad took me to see this in the theater when I was four, and I lasted a full 15 minutes before I got scared and started crying. I don't think my dad has forgiven me. Anyway, I like it better now.

Stop Making Sense - David Byrne's big suits were my first drag aesthetic, and the music. The weird, jittery, post-apocalyptic, transcendent music. Someday I will step into a suit and live in David Byrne's head.

Books

Neuromancer (William Gibson) - I read this the way it was meant to be read, at age fourteen, to impress the upperclassmen on the literary magazine staff. It felt prescient in the '90s, and now it's just uncanny. Gibson is one of those authors who doesn't seem like he turns much of a phrase, until you step back and see how immersive his worlds are.

The Unbearable Lightness of Being (Milan Kundera) - I pulled this off my parents' shelf in high school because it had a cool cover and read the whole thing while I was home with a cold. When I try to explain to people why I find it comforting to believe there's no afterlife, I wish I could hand them this book instead.

The Illuminatus! Trilogy (Bob Shea & Robert Anton Wilson) - More weird cult stuff that you have to read in high school or never. It's not... good? But it's great.

The Butter Battle Book (Dr. Seuss) - Every parent should teach their young children that the problem with war is that it's banal and nonsensical, and we can all do better.

Comics

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (Kevin Eastman & Peter Laird) - My friend got her hands on trades of the early runs of TMNT in middle school, and the revelation of this darkly satirical source text of the TV cartoon was a pop culture coming-of-age moment. It's about superheroes as people, and adolescents as people, and gentrification and marginalization and homelessness and family, and it made me want to move to New York immediately.

TV

Muppet Babies - My generation has collectively forgotten most of the cartoons we watched at 8 AM on Saturday mornings while building pillow forts and Lego spaceships with our little brothers, but we've all retained this one.

V - I watched this by accident on a hotel room TV when I was way too young for it, and it creeped me out and made me fall in love with sci-fi in ways that I was surprisingly ready for.

Theater

Sunday in the Park with George - One of the great works of art about making art, from the perspective that process is inscrutable but people are not. The score bangs on dissonant chords until the exact moment when you think you can't take it anymore, and then it opens up into beautiful, soothing melody just long enough to really fuck you up again. Assume that whenever you read my writing, I hummed "Look, I made a hat!" just before posting.

Music

The Pretenders - Learning to Crawl - Chrissie Hynde's voice is so sexy, and the songs are full of a uniquely Midwestern longing.

Robyn Hitchcock - I Often Dream of Trains - Side A is all pranking on Freud and Christianity, and side B finds things to have faith in, even if Hitchcock still sounds like he's snarling.

R.E.M. - Reckoning - Mostly mournful and lovely, plus two absolute bangers that are retroactive bi pride anthems.

Depeche Mode - Some Great Reward - I bristled at this in high school when I thought it was edgy (but too pop), then embraced it in college when I realized it wasn't that edgy after all (but stunning).

Madonna - Like a Virgin - I can perform an improv lip sync routine to any song on this album, on demand.

Prince & The Revolution - Purple Rain The best pop album ever made. I am not accepting criticism at this time.

[silvereddaye]

I don’t know if you write for just anyone but after watching the Lion King, particularly the scene with Mufasa telling Simba that he was scared he would loose him- honestly made me think of Luke and Vader

I actually really liked this prompt sent to me, and this is where my mind went upon getting it. I wrote this a while ago, and I don’t think it’s finished, but I don’t quite recall where else I wanted to go with it. But enjoy it:

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

Vader stood at the edge of the grated platform. Fifty feet below and under a ray shield, lava boiled and roared along a river edged in newly formed black rock. The platform vibrated, a sensation Vader barely registered himself through his prosthetic legs, as a figure landed hard against the metal with a pained grunt. The young teen snarled as he got his legs back under him and his red lightsaber up before as his attacker jumped down on him. The large creature was double the boy’s size and dressed in crude armor, tattered clothes, and a metal helmet. It fought with a lightsaber so haphazardly made the blade came out uneven. 

Despite the physical difference, the boy met the heavy blow head on. He used the brute’s momentum to push him off to the side so he could jump back up to his feet. His saber swirled in his hand as adjusted his footing and grip. The brute did not waste time doing the same as he let out a low frustrated growl and charged forward. He swung another blow then another and another. The boy met each one but was struggling. His swings were slowing. Sweat matted his hair and dripped down his face. His breath was labored. 

Vader gritted his teeth and looped his thumbs through his belt loops as he watched his thirteen-year-old son continue his test. His body was tense. His right hand ached to grab his saber hanging on his belt and slash the mindless brute in half. But no; he would not. It was a test of Luke’s training. 

Luke let out a yelp of pain as the brute landed a hard kick on the small chest. The boy went flying to the edge of the platform. Vader flinched. A flicker of his internal conflict to stop this. Luke was loosing, and he should end it. But the boy would be angry if he did, so Vader stayed still and watched. 

Luke still had a chance to win. He had become distracted by the fight and had loosened his hold on the Force. If he deepened and strengthened his connection, this pathetic lifeform of a Dark Side cult would be dead by now. Vader knew his son’s power, his potential, and it was disappointing to see Luke do so poorly now. 

The cultist slashed down at the prone boy, but Luke rolled and the lightsaber barely missed him. Luke snapped his hand up and threw a clumsy Force push. The brute staggered, which gave him time to get to his feet, but then pushed on without a second thought. Blows were exchanged again. The lightsabers hummed and hissed, and sparks flew when one dug into the metal of the platform. 

Luke had lost his offensive edge; he was now completely on the defensive as the brute pushed forward. Vader’s hand was now on his saber hilt, which was still latched to his belt. The leather of his glove creaked as his grip tightened. He wouldn’t interfere unless he had to. Unless there was no other choice. He had to give Luke a chance to prove himself. 

But the boy tripped. His blue eyes went wide as his head hit the metal too hard and he lost his grip on his saber which rolled away. The brute gave a victory shout as he leapt into the air with his saber pointed right at Luke’s chest . . . 

The saber didn’t even scratch Luke’s sweat-stained tunic. 

It hovered a few inches above the boy, frozen. Frozen like the rest of the creature. Luke only blinked up at it; he was still stunned. It didn’t matter. The test was over. Vader approached with his left hand out and using it to focus the Force around the brute and keep him still. His right hand had freed his saber and ignited it. He took pleasure cutting the creature into pieces.

“Fa-- father.”

Vader turned and looked down at his son.

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

Luke had managed to use his elbows to prop himself up just in time to watch his opponent’s body hit the metal grates with a sickening thud.

He had failed. 

“Fa-- father.” His voice wavered. He meant it to sound strong. Fierce. Instead, it was weak and wavered. 

Darth Vader turned around and lightsaber slid back into a hilt with a soft hiss as the black helmet titled down to look at Luke. 

Luke swallowed. There was a lump in his dry throat. 

“I would have won,” he finally managed to say. His words had come out better this time. 

“No.” 

Luke flinched. His father’s voice was always deep and cutting. Luke tried to swallow again and stuck his chin up a bit higher. 

“I had--”

“You did not,” Vader said as he pointed a finger at Luke. “That was a killing blow.” 

Luke gritted his teeth and his hands curled into tight fists. He looked away.

“Then I would have died,” he said. “It would have been only the appropriate punishment for my failure. I do not know why you stopped it.” 

Vader moved; Luke could see it out of his peripheral vision. He tensed ready for a blow, for him to be seized by the Force, for anything . . . but nothing came. He cautiously but curiously turned to face Vader, who was down on one knee next to him. 

“I stopped it because I was scared I would lose you,” Vader said. 

. . . what?

Luke stilled as he stared into the dark red lenses but knowing he was making eye contact with the man behind them. 

“Master Sidious said--” Luke said. 

Vader cut him off. “I was not about to watch my son die.” 

He held out his hand, the same one that had pointed accusingly at him moments before. Luke looked at it and wondered if this was part of the test. Should he summon his lightsaber to him and attack? Master had warned him that Vader wasn’t to be trusted even though he was his father. 

But . . . 

Luke grabbed the hand. Vader’s grip was strong and tight as he pulled Luke up along with him. He stumbled forward as his mind spun and vision blurred. Strong hands wrapped around him and he was lifted off his feet. As the spinning stopped, he realized his father was carrying him. He opened his mouth to speak, to demand Vader’s intention, but the words died before they even formed. He rested his head against the hard shoulder armor and closed his eyes. 

[panda-noosh]

im really bad with specifics anything you write about draco is great 🥺 so maybe something sweet with draco and reader?

god, draco is awful at this.

   how do people just do this so easily? honestly, anniversaries are so pointless, so stressful, and he doesn’t understand why they are a thing.

   but you seem to be into them, so he’s making the effort.

   he knows - this is very out of character for him. the day draco malfoy does something for someone else is surely meant to be the day the world ends, and yet here he is, standing in another random gift shop in hogsmeade, trying to decide what stationary set you would absolutely lose your mind over.

    and it’s not like he doesn’t know; in fact, there are some days where draco thinks he knows you better than he knows himself. you would definitely appreciate the notebook with the little corgis on it. you would definitely give him a kiss for that one.

    but what if he’s wrong?

   that’s what’s got him so confused; for months, he’s been set and certain on what he’s going to get you, because he knows what you like. but now that he’s actually got to come out and find what he’s looking for, he’s wondering whether he’s been right at all. does he know you like he thinks he does? what if he hands you the gift and you start crying because jesus, draco, i thought you knew me.

    he doesn’t want that to happen.

    he scowls, poking the corgi notebook as if that will somehow reveal the answers he so desperately needs right now. around him, fellow Hogwarts students bustle back and forth, picking up little gifts for themselves, because they can do that when they aren’t madly in love with someone. they can do that when they haven’t got a stupid anniversary coming up.

    “can i help you, my boy?”

   draco looks up. standing over him is Dakota Shrap, the owner of the quaint little shop he’s found himself in.  

    “yes,” he says. “i’m looking for an anniversary gift.”

    dakota’s eyes sparkle. “oh, young love, is it?”

   “i guess.” yes. very much so.

   “well, let me have a look here.” dakota trudges forward and flicks his wrist; all the goodies on the shelves move of their own accord, like a gear shifting. after a few moments of draco awkwardly standing with his hands tucked in his pockets, the shelves go still yet again, revealing a picture frame stood entirely on it’s own.

   draco raises a brow. “what good is that gonna do?”

    dakota plucks the frame from the shelf and shoves it into draco’s hand. “the magic doesn’t lie, my boy; if it says this is the perfect gift, then it’s the perfect gift. i’ll leave it to you to figure out why.”

    draco blinks. “right. okay. how much?”

   and so, draco pays the bill and heads back to hogwarts on his own; he left crabbe and goyle to their own devices. they would be nothing but an annoying distraction, and he can’t really afford to be distracted when he’s trying to get you a gift.

    he heads straight to his dorm in the slytherin common room and sits down on his bed, pulling he curtains round him. he stares down at the picture frame; he has a few pictures with you, mostly taken against his will. his mother wanting to capture the moment, or you playfully snapping a picture of you and him laying beside one another - draco never saw the logic in those, considering they were basically just evidence that you had sneaked out of your dorm to come join him. nonetheless, he glances over to his bedside table where multiple of those pictures are hung upon his wall; he likes them, he’ll admit. he may not seem like the type, but he loves a sentimental piece. he loves the memories with you.

    he reaches over and plucks one off the string. the picture moves. on loop, the flash erupts onto the page, revealing your beautiful, grinning face and draco’s exhausted wince. picture draco raises a hand, slapping it into the camera’s lens, and draco can remember himself grumbling, “get that camera away” before you burst out into laughter and nuzzled into his chest, having captured grumpy draco yet again.

    he likes this picture a lot, purely because every time he looks at it, he remembers your laugh. it was so loud that night, nearly getting the two of you caught, and yet neither of you made any attempt to move. you just nuzzled beneath the quilt, playfully telling draco to be quiet before the two of you fell asleep.

    yes, draco thinks. i’ll take this one.

   ----

    “an entire year.”

   you grin, skipping up to draco’s side as soon as you spot him from across the yard. you seem to be in fine spirits, and despite draco not having quite the same burst of energy as you, he must admit that he hasn’t been in such a good mood in a long, long time.

   “an entire year it is, mr malfoy,” you reply, grabbing his arm and doing a spin that makes draco roll his eyes. “to think i’ve put up with you for three hundred and sixty five days - mental.”

   “oh, hush. take this.” draco shoves the badly wrapped package into your hands. you stumble back in faux shock, staring down like it might bite you if you take your eyes off it for too long. “open it.”

    “you’re so bossy,” you whinge, but the excitement is evident in the glisten of your eyes as you drop your bag to the ground and start ripping into the wrapping paper.

   this is the part where draco gets nervous.

    there’s every possibility you won’t like it. maybe he should have just gotten you the god damn corgi notebook - you’d have more use out of that, and you love stationary, so why did he go against all his instincts and listen to some crazy old man who doesn’t even know who you are?

    these thoughts paralyse him; he wants to reach out and snatch the gift away, say “never mind!” and replace it with something else, but instead he stays rooted to the spot in front of you, hands tucked in his pockets, watching with baited breath as you drop the wrapping paper to the ground (you pick it up before you leave. don’t litter!) and stare at the picture frame once hidden beneath it.

    draco inhales sharply. your silence has lasted too long. you hate it. he’s messed up.

    “draco...,” you mumble.

   he panics. his hand snaps out and wraps around the top of it, yanking the frame from your fingers. you gasp, and before draco can flee the scene, you’ve grabbed his arm and dragged him back, snatching the frame back into your own grip.

   “what are you doing?” you hiss. “this is mine!”

    “look, it’s not much, i know, but-”

   “i love it.”

   draco freezes. “what?”

   “i love it, draco.” you look up, and it’s only then does draco notice the tears glistening at the corners of your eyes. “i didn’t realise you’d kept that picture. i thought you threw them all away.”

   draco scrunches up his nose, pulling away like you’ve just slapped him. “are you mental? why would i do that?”

   “because you’re. . . i don’t know! i just didn’t know you were into that stuff!”

   draco rolls his eyes. “i’m not, but you’re a special case.” he looks to the floor and mutters, “you’ve always been my special case.”

    you hear him. that much is obvious in the hitch of your breath, and draco curses himself for not taking more care with his words. nonetheless, he’s pleasantly surprised when you step towards him and cup his jaw, forcing him to look into your eyes. you don’t need to force him, though, because he swears he would get lost in those eyes of yours for the rest of eternity if he had the choice. he would abandon the real world and everything in it if meant he could stand here and look at you for the rest of his life.

    you smile. it makes his chest hurt. 

    “i love you, draco malfoy,” you whisper.

   draco doesn’t hear those words very often - in fact, he hears them from nobody but you. he never knows how to properly respond, because saying i love you too never feels like enough. like he’s taking the easy way out despite being completely willing to run across rivers, to snap the world in half if you asked.

   he reaches up and curls his slender fingers around your wrist, gently tugging your hand down to meet his lips. he presses a kiss there and says, despite wanting something else, something stronger, “i love you, too, y/n l/n.”

[lordseochangbin]

Heart Stop: Hoodie Season (2)

A/N: Yooo the feedback from Chapter One made me so happy thank you guys for reading <3

Word Count: 2.3k of pure fluff with Bang Chan

Chan was met with a smack in the head as he watched you walk down the hall. “Bro! What the heck was that?” Jisung asked.

Chan stuttered with his words but Jisung and Minho found his actions to be pure comedy. “‘Cause I’m a nice guy, my ass” Minho mocked.

Turning around in a hurry, Chan placed his hands on Jisung’s shoulders. “Do you know that girl’s name?”

»»————-　♡　————-««

That was probably the first time you had ever been so close to a cute boy without fainting. Even when you met Seungmin, Jeongin, or Hyunjin your heart felt like you were about to explode. But for the most popular senior at your school? Not even a beat. 

You were even preparing for the repercussions, but nothing out of the ordinary happened. 

“And then he just suddenly bumped into me! What a jerk, right?!” You exclaimed, taking a handful of chips from Hyunjin’s lunch and chomping it down. 

“Jeez chill Y/N, take your time when you eat” Hyunjin responded, staring off at the track field in front of him. 

You wave your hand in front of his face to get his attention before your lips could form a pout, “Bang Chan, the ‘hottest guy at our school’ bumps into me and you don’t even care? What if I become his girlfriend, huh? A-and I ditch you for him? Then what, huh?” 

When you saw Hyunjin’s eyes widen you knew you had gotten his attention. It was unnecessary but you loved seeing his reaction anytime he got angry or jealous- it was priceless. This time however, he looked like neither of them. He looked shocked almost, as if..

“You think I’m hot?” 

Dropping the chips in your hand, you turn around to see Bang Chan behind you and choke on your spit. 

“Uhh, ummm” Standing up, you look at Hyunjin for help and when he doesn’t budge you immediately respond “I mean that’s what everyone says”

That’s what everyone says? You don’t even know what you’re saying at this point. 

“Right..” Chan says in a voice close to a whisper. You can hear the disappointment in his voice and in fact, you were disappointed too. Rather than focusing on the situation you just put yourself in, you found yourself focused on the number of breaths you were taking. Completely zoned out, unaware yet aware. Full of speech yet speechless. You looked for a reason and asked yourself how many breaths you were taking- just like your cardiologist suggested and found an answer.

An almost break-taking answer, none. 

“Dude, just ask her out stop being such a pussy,” Jisung said, pointing at you. “She’s right there”

The boy’s weight shifted on his feet, as if he was getting smaller and smaller and his swim bag dropped to the floor. He felt it the second he walked towards you. His chest rose and fell unsteadily and at this point he couldn’t keep track.

“Y-Y/N..” He stutters, his hand itching the crook of his neck as his bottom lip trembles. 

Minho rolled his eyes, “Oh great, we came all the way here and he’s stuttering” he mumbled before being elbowed in the stomach by Jisung. 

“Huh?” You responded, Hyunjin quickly got on his feet to back you up. 

“She doesn’t need a date” 

Jisung chuckled as he pulled Hyunjin aside, “Look Chan is stuttering. And with his cocky ass, that’s a first '' Jisung grabs Hyunjin’s shirt to drag him away and finds himself at loss before Minho could carry him over his shoulder. 

“Let’s go, little guy” Minho says and Hyunjin looks back at you. “SAVE ME Y/N SAVE MEEEEE” 

You simply laughed at the sight. Drama llama. 

The whole scene took your mind off of the nervous boy in front of you. Shoulders hunched and out of breath, he took his hand out as if to ask ‘Can you hold it?’ 

“Chan, if you want to go on a date-”

“Yes!” He panted out before shaking his head in disappointment and whispering, “Please”

He covered his eyes as if he didn’t want to see you, his heartbeat slowly recovering as he finally got to courage to ask “Will you go out on a date with me?” 

“Do you even know who you’re talking to?” You asked, your hands flattening on top of his to remove them from his face. 

“Eeek!” He shrieked, making an attempt to cover his face again before you could stop him. 

“Are you okay?!” You asked in concern, letting go of your grasp on him

“Will you go on a date with me?” He asked quickly. You could feel his heartbeat pace faster and faster through his chest. The heaves of breaths pass his lips to hit yours and you find yourself in the unknown on how to respond.

“Yes?” 

“Great” He responded with a smile, pointing a finger at you before dashing off. 

“Chan!! Chan!!!” 

You crouch down to pick up the large swim bag. “You forgot your stuff”

»»————-　♡　————-««

A couple days later, you find yourself applying your sister’s makeup as you get ready for your date with Chan. Sure, you’re nervous. You’re about to go out with the hottest Senior at your school and you can’t help but to wonder if he’ll be as cocky as the guy that you heard about all the time. 

“Oh, Bang Chan he’s a player”

“He’s a total flirt”

“Have you seen his abs? He’s totally working out for the girls”

Does he work out for the girls? Is he just a player? You couldn’t help but to ask yourself if you were being played. 

When the front door bell rang you had no time to come to an answer. “Coming!” You said, doing some finishing touches and running to the door. 

You took a deep breath. It’s just a first date right? But it was not only you and Chan’s first date, it was your first date. It was like a new entry in social life.

Opening the door was like a brand new face of light. Despite it being the afternoon, Chan smiled brighter than the sun. A hand met the door rail and he leaned in closer to you. “Ready?” he asked.

“Yeah! Let me just grab my bag.”

When you two got into the car, he opened the door for you and you smiled at him as if to say ‘Thank you’

“Where are we going?” You ask excitingly as he drives off. 

Taking your hand in his, he winks at you after saying “You’ll see”

»»————-　♡　————-««

“No way,” Chan said, crossing his arms as he stared at the large amusement ride in front of you. 

“Oh come on!! It’s just a ride” You said, nudging your shoulder on his side. You have never been to a carnival ride before. Typically you’d go with your family and you’d beg to go on the rides but they would never let you because of your health.

But what did you think of that? Bullshit. Finally you’re with a guy who is completely unaware about you, someone who treats you like a normal person without overdoing it. 

“Channie~” You smirked, standing tall in front of him as you pointed at the ride. “Don’t be a baby, just go on the ride” 

Chan’s eyes narrowed down on you as he took your hand, legs practically stomping on the ground as he walked to the line. “I am not a baby!” He pouted. 

That was before the constant screaming and grabbing of your jacket. Chan didn’t let go of you the entire ride. With every dip and turn he’d throw his entire weight on you causing you to get stuck in the corner of the seat. “Chan, get off me!” You exclaimed as he clinged onto you. 

“No.. no Y/N I think I’m seriously gonna- AHHHH” He exclaimed as the roller coaster went down its biggest dip. 

Once the ride was finished Chan got off from his seat, dusting his knees. “Hey, we should go on that again”

You could only laugh at his response, “We should, it seemed like you really enjoyed it” you replied sarcastically.

And at that point it came to some awkward silence, where you didn’t know what to say and neither did he. Words weren’t necessary at this point because when Chan took your hand in his again you were left breathless. “Let’s get something to eat,” He said before taking you to the food court. 

There you two debated over hot dogs or burgers. The two of you basically robbed the food stand as you ordered everything on the menu and settled down at one of the tables.

“C-chan you have a little something” You said, gesturing at the bit of ketchup from his hotdog that smeared his bottom lip. 

“Oh do I?” His australian accent peaked as he made multiple tries to get the sauce off but failed. 

“Here, let me get it” You said, leaning across the table to wipe the ketchup off his lip with the napkin. 

If you got any closer, Chan swore his heart would’ve jumped out of his chest. It was already on a loop. Faster than the pace of a jump-rope, hopping and popping and “jopping”, but when you pulled back it suddenly died down. 

“Thanks” he nervously smiled before taking another bite at his snack. 

“Yeah for sure” You smiled back, looking around in awe as the sun went down and the carnival lights started to turn on. 

He couldn’t even focus on his meal. He was so in love with the view. Not the lights that were brought to life, nor the sky that turned shades of pink and purples. The girl in front of him. She was beautiful.

“Chan! Let’s go play that game!” You said, jumping out of your seat and dragging him out of the food area. 

You and another girl held your straws in your hand before you could competitively eye each other. “GO!” The lady said. 

Before you knew it you were huffing and puffing into your straw, blowing to watch your rubber ducky go down the river. Chan occasionally threw words of encouragement as you went down the game, and once you were close to the end he sang “Rubber ducky you’re the one-”

“And she wins!” The lady interrupted as your rubber ducky passed the finish line. 

“I did it!” You smiled at Chan as the lady handed you a koala plushie. Once you were off, Chan intertwined his fingers with yours before walking you to his car. 

“Did you have fun?” He asked, watching as you looked back at the Carnival lights. 

“Yes..thank you so much Chan” you replied with a giggle before he could open the door for you. 

“Good, because there’s one last place I want to take you.”

When Chan said those words, you thought he would take you to dinner- or maybe the park or the movies. Never did you expect for him to take you to your school’s swimming pool. 

“Chan, what are we doing here?” You ask as he unlocks the door to the gym. 

“I wanted to take you here. I don’t know.. I always told myself that if I took a girl out on a date I would bring her here. It’s like my second home you know?”

“Yeah, I get it” You followed him to the pool as he sat down on the edge, taking off his shoes and dipping his feet inside. Doing the same, you sat down next to him as you watched the shallow waters. 

This time around, it didn’t feel awkward. Not knowing what to say or what to do. Just having him next to you made you feel as good as you have ever felt. 

“Hey,” Chan said, watching as you stared down at the pool anxiously. 

The second you turned your head, Chan splashed water to your face- instant betrayal. 

“Hey!” You pouted with a laugh as your hand went to swap more water at him. It went on like this for a few seconds until Chan kicked so much water at you that you were practically drenched. 

“Chan, Chan stop” you pleaded, your hands flying in front of your face to avoid more water coming at you. The second he stopped, you pushed him down the pool, watching him fall into the very bottom and laughing at the dancing movements he made. 

Then it became a sudden worry. He went so deep into the water you couldn’t even spot him. “Chan?? Chan..CHAN!” You yelped as he pulled you down into the water with him.

Your head didn’t touch the water but you were screaming for help- hands flying everywhere and legs kicking with no use. Your hands grabbed at Chan’s shoulders as he giggled at your response before you could scream “I DON’T KNOW HOW TO SWIM!!” 

“YOU DON’T?!!” Chan exclaimed before he could get a grasp on your waist, holding you tight against his chest as you buried your head into the crook of his neck. 

His arm found itself at the edge of the pool so he could float comfortably and he reassured you that you were safe. Chan had been through this before. So many skits of paying the lifeguard or kid savior, but this time it felt different. He felt excited, thrilled even to be in a pool that he had spent most of his life in. 

You on the other hand felt calm. Tranquil and peaceful in contrast to the beating heart that was banging against your chest. 

“Are you okay now?” Chan asked, his hand going to brush your wet hair away from your face. 

“Yeah, I’m perfect” You said before leaning closer to him. Feeling his plump lips part against yours, Chan pressed you closer to him and at last your lips meet. 

Perfect you said, perfect was the word to use when you were with Bang Chan. Amazing. Spectacular. Absolutely astonishing. Any other adjective that could relate to the last three. 

His heart is beating out of his chest and yours is as calm as it has ever been.

Is this what it feels like to fall in love?

[tsarinastorm]

Same World-Adam Sackler/Reader-Chapter 1

*PART TWO OF SO WE BEAT ON SERIES

PART 1: Chapter 1  Chapter 2  Chapter 3  Chapter 4  Chapter 5   Chapter 6

“I want to know you moved and breathed in the same world with me”. -F. Scott Fitzgerald

Adam’s walking through the park carrying Sample, he had got roped into babysitting as Caroline had to go somewhere and Laird was busy. He hoped it wouldn’t be for too long like it was last time. Both Caroline and Laird had seemingly been more stable than they’d ever been and it made Adam happy. Considering her real name, Adam was now glad his niece’s nickname Sample stuck, it was better than have to carry around little Jessa-Hannah. In fact, that name made him feel nauseous. Now he was over both his past relationships with Jessa and Hannah enough to be friendly with both of them, but he still preferred to keep his distance so he wouldn’t get caught up in all of that drama again.

               Today was his day off from shooting his recent film and he wanted to make the most of it despite his babysitting duties. It was nice outside, and Sample needed fresh air so he took to her a local park, though he would never let her be more a few feet away him. She’s sitting down on the blanket he brought for them playing with a toy and he’s talking to her in a silly voice which makes her laugh. He hears someone speaking to him.

               “Cute baby. Is she yours?” Y/N observes him with Sample and smiles. Adam’s disoriented seeing her there, and she looks beautiful he thinks to himself. She’s wearing a striped short-sleeved sweater, black jeans and flats.  Act cool, act cool.

               “No, she’s my niece. Her name is Sample.” He answers her and she leans down beside the blanket and hands Sample her toy. Y/N raises her eyebrows as she asks, “Her name is really Sample? That’s a different name.”

               Adam watches Y/N playing with Sample, and he appreciates it. He remembers how awful Jessa was with her, so it’s refreshing to see someone who is a natural. He mentally logs this moment in his mind, because if he ever gets into a serious relationship again, he wants kids one day. “Sample is her nickname because she was born really small, sample-sized. Her name is Jessa-Hannah Bluebell something, some ridiculous name. My sister was trying to do a home-birth but was having complications and refused to go to the hospital. It was Jessa and Hannah who convinced Laird to carry her there.”

“Damn that sucks though having your niece named after two of your exes. Sample it is then” She says as she smiles. Y/N adds, “You seem like you’re really good with her.”

“I guess so. I’m a like a big kid myself and it works out.” He responds back and Sample appears to be loving all the attention she’s getting. Sample grabs unto Y/N then heads towards Adam, as Y/N hands her to Adam, their hands brush. And it’s electric, Adam can feel the tingle go through his arm. She then looks at her phone and stands up to leave.

               “I have to go meet Shoshanna for lunch. But you’ll be at the party, right?”

               Adam nods his head, but before he can speak, Y/N adds, “Hannah and Jessa both will be there, but if it gets weird I can find a place to hide you in the apartment.”

               “Thanks, but I think it should be civil between all of us now.” He watches her go and thinks that if he wasn’t so into Y/N there would be no way anyone could get him to that party. But he supposes he’ll suffer through it if he gets to spend time with her.

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

Marnie called you as soon as you left Shosh, and she told you that she had seen her ex Charlie earlier in the day. She said that he’d gone through rehab, been clean for over a year and has a new app he’s developing. She then mentions that she invited him to your apartment warming. You told her that if   Marnie still had a couple hours of work left and you decided to browse on your computer. Without thinking it through, you start googling Adam, and then you’re clicking on his movie. You try to talk yourself out of it, but then you press play. It’s actually good, guess he really did love Hannah.

               Then, the scene starts. He spanks her again and again. You feel yourself becoming aroused as you watch his back muscles move and his large hand collide with her. You’re getting wetter, and honestly you can’t remember the last time you felt this horny. You go to take a shower, hoping that these hormones will pass. But that scene was hot, and you couldn’t ignore it. Then, there was the raw emotion from that film, you could feel everything that the characters were feeling. It made you think of Adam differently to see what kind art he had created and to see what he really felt. Here you had always thought that he was more of player, you never realized the strength of his emotions. Now you find him more attractive than you did before.

               Ugh, this complicates things, you think to yourself. Of course you had to go and catch feelings for one of the most inconvenient men you’ve met. First, there’s the fact that Adam may be the most frustrating man you’ve ever known, second, he’s an ex of one of  your friends and has a complicated past. Third, you had decided that you didn’t want a relationship right now, you had wanted to focus on yourself. Yet, if you were being honest with yourself, you were infatuated by Adam, and you could see it potentially developing into something real one day, if it wasn’t already. He made your head hurt, your heart flutter, and gave you butterflies as cliché as that sounded. He was intense, and you could tell that he felt things as deeply as you did. You always wanted the type of connection that was intoxicating, maddening and deep enough to drown in. You knew you would have to explore things with Adam, and you made up your mind that you would be open to the possibilities.

               While you’re zoned out in your own world pondering your emotions, you hear your phone buzzing. You check it and its Jessa calling you, so you answer, “Hello.”

“Hey, so Y/N, first, I need life advice then I have a question about the party tonight.” Jessa says and you can hear people in the background speaking.

               “Okay shoot.” You tell her.

“I want to mend my friendship with Hannah but I don’t know how. I thought since Adam and I are over that it would fall back into place but it’s not. And can I bring a plus one to the party tonight?” Jessa asks and you sigh before answering, “You should show Hannah that you’ve changed and that she can trust you again, and you know, take an interest in her life. It will probably be a slow process. You can bring a plus one as long as he behaves.”

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

Music fills the air, and you have opened the sliding doors to the main terrace. Marnie has taken care of the food for the night. You weren’t sure if you wanted this apartment warming in the first place but you go along with it, because, hey, what could it hurt? Marnie has moved the furniture around in the main room so the table is in the middle of the room, while there are other seats surrounding the room. You’ve never been the best hostess so you follow her lead. Though you do set out the flowers and see that the food is out with utensils in all of the containers. You’re wearing a pale-pink, off-the-shoulder jumpsuit, and block-heeled sandals.

“I can’t believe you invited Jessa. And Adam. There is now a 99 % chance that this will turn into a shit show.”  Marnie says as she continues moving around your apartment. You stop to get a treat for your dog River before answering her. “You invited who you wanted, including your druggie ex who you just ran into for a few minutes earlier today. By the way, tell me about that.”

“Well I just ran into Charlie on the street and he started asking me questions about my life. I summed up the past two years, and asked him about what he’s up to. He said that he went to rehab, and has been clean since. He also has a new app he’s starting. I don’t know it just really threw me for a loop seeing him again.” Marnie states and you notice that she’s twitching her fingers like she does when she’s nervous.

“Running into an ex can do that. Do you still have any feelings for him?” You ask because now you’re curious. She seems very flustered so you sense that there’s some emotions underneath that.

“For so long, I thought I would always end up with Charlie. Then I wouldn’t and I thought that Desi was the one, then Ray, but I think that I always really wanted closure about Charlie.” She admits and you give her a pat on the shoulder and say, “If you need closure then get closure. Love chooses you sometimes.”

“Back to what I said before I got off on the Charlie tangent, what were you thinking invite both Adam and Jessa?”

“Jessa says that she wants to turn her life around and I guess I want to support that. Adam and I have a lot in common, he makes me feel less weird.” You say hoping that will get her to accept the fact that you choose to invite them both.

“Look, Y/N, I know you’re a good person and want to help people but Jessa pulls this all the time. She’ll say she’s going to change, get her life together and that will last a few months then she spirals out of control. And she’ll probably end up fucking you over. But I say that as your best friend: just be careful. Then there’s Adam. I have never understood what it was about him that made Hannah and Jessa so crazy. My only worry with him is that he wants to fuck you. Then if that happens, the awkward love triangle will turn into an even more awkward love rectangle.”

You feel your face go red at her last statement, you still blush as an adult and you hate it. Then, you do your best damage control by saying, “That’s not going to happen. But I guess we’ll see what happens with Jessa. We’re best friends, we’re supposed to be honest with each other.”

Marnie turns and grab a gift bag from her room, and pulls out the bottle of champagne that was inside. She says, “Marc got us this as a house warming gift.”

“Oh well that was very nice of him.” You say and think that he was the last person you wanted to think of. Elijah then shows up early to help the two of you set up the decorations. You had bought some lights to string up through the apartment and terrace while Marnie had got a few balloons. You catch up with Elijah while you wait for your other guests to arrive. Hannah shows up first, followed by Shoshanna and her fiancé, Byron, then Ray and his girlfriend Abigail come in. Then a guy you assume must be Charlie walks in. He seems nice enough, and Marnie introduces you to him.  You’re actually feeling relieved that Jessa didn’t show since Marnie was sure that she would cause problems, but you were disappointed that Adam bailed. You were looking forward to hanging out with him again and you wanted to tell him that you watched the movie.

               You mingle with Shosh and Elijah, the former is talking about wedding details and the latter is giving her his thoughts on the details. Byron is keeping his opinion to himself as you assume that he’s letting Shosh do much of the planning. You look over and see Ray and his girlfriend Abigail sharing a plate of food and giggling. Your eyes continue to scan the room to see Marnie and Charlie off on their own in a corner in the room.  How is possible to feel lonely in a room full of people?

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

Adam buzzes up to Y/N and Marnie’s apartment. When he walks through the door he immediately sees that the room is full with people who aren’t his biggest fans: Hannah, Marnie, Marnie’s old boyfriend, Elijah. Then he sees Y/N and it was worth it. She standing by the door to the balcony, and smiles as soon as she sees him. She looks hot and comes right up to him and thanks him for showing up.  He don’t see Jessa and he’s relieved he can’t deal with her ‘friendship’ ploy tonight.She offers him a drink and he follows her into the kitchen to avoid socializing with the other people at the party.

“I have a question and I want you to be completely honest with me.” Y/N says and looks somber. He nods his head and now he’s scared: what will she ask, it must be important. She then leans into him, handing him his drink then whispers, “What is like to fuck Hannah and Jessa?”

He watches her to see if she’s joking or being serious. She then laughs at his horrified expression and he shakes his head and shrugs his shoulders before adding, “A gentleman never tells.”

“Now, c’mon, what kind of answer is that? I invited you so you could provide details and your drama could be the entertainment for the night.” She says cheerfully, then giggles. Holy shit, that giggle may be one of the best sounds he’s ever heard.

“What? Here I thought you brought me here so you could watch me squirm. Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to make it clear that you invited me so you’re responsible.” He says in a deep tone back at her.

“On a more serious note, I watched your movie….” Now, Adam starts to panic, he’s expecting her to lay into him and begin her insults/commentary. He’s surprised by her actual comment.

“It was really good. It was open and raw. Real life isn’t depicted correctly in art anymore, it was refreshing. You could really feel the passion. To have a love that’s too intense to survive is painful, but you have to let it go.”

He feels his face blush, he always feel uncomfortable from praise, but he does appreciate it from Y/N. He knows she definitely has her own opinions, and is well-cultured so if she likes it then that really means something. He awkwardly stammers, “Thank you, I appreciate it.”

Then the rest of her comments sink in, he adds, “See you get the purpose of it! That was the point of it: that you can have a connection that’s too intense for it to last.”

The moment is ruined because he then sees Jessa walk into the room with some guy, she’s obviously dragged here. She goes up to talk to Hannah, Marnie, and Shoshanna. Adam is thankful that she hasn’t spotted him yet and he wants to keep it that way.

“How are your projects going?” Y/N asks him like she doesn’t even recognize that he’s become tense. He answers, “Good, I’m actually updating some of my old writing work for a resume, and preparing for another audition. One of my friends from the cab group wants me to take the movie and either turn into a longer screenplay or adapt for the stage.”

Shit! Jessa’s made eye contact with him and now she’s coming their way. Jessa approaches with the asshole she’s brought with her. She hugs Y/N, and says, “Y/N, you look beautiful as always. This is Joe, we’ve been seeing each other.”

Jessa then turns to Adam and says, “It’s good to see you, Adam. Adam this is Joe, he’s a cardiologist. Joe this is Adam.”

Adam reluctantly shakes Joe’s hand and prays that Jessa goes away. He can tell that she brought this guy here to make him jealous but he’s so checked out of that relationship that he doesn’t care, he’s just annoyed. He wants to continue his conversation with Y/N without the newfound company. Y/N chatters with Jessa for a short amount of time which leaves both him and Joe stuck standing there awkwardly.

“If you need someone else to help you review your other pieces, I’d love to read some more of your work, if you’re open to that. I know some writing is extremely personal.” Y/N says as she ignores that Jessa and Joe are still only a few away. Jessa is trying to hide that she’s eavesdropping in the conversation, but she keeps her head pointed towards their conversation.

“I’d like that, I’m auditioning for a role with Ars Nova, and they’re going to be doing a new piece by Sara Ruhl. They look their actors to be well-rounded and are looking for new works.” Adam says and he can’t hide his excitement. He wants the role and to be a part of the elite company.

“Wait, that’s amazing! Didn’t Lin Manuel Miranda do work with them? And Sarah Ruhl? Wow” Y/N says and she sounds as excited about it as he does.

“It’s a big opportunity and I want everything to be perfect.” He says. But before they can continue the conversation, Jessa interjects, “Who and what are you talking about?”

“A theater company, one of the best in New York and one of the best contemporary playwrights,” Y/N answers her and Jessa only responds with “Oh” then she walks away and goes to talk Hannah.  Adam and Y/N look at each other and raise their eyebrows before continuing the conversation.

They end up talking about past relationships, family, and pet peeves. For one of the first times, Adam is one of the last people to leave the party, Y/N gives him a hug and Marnie gives him the side-eye.Adam never thought that Y/N would agree to help him write. The idea of her reading and editing his work makes him somehow self-conscious and excited at the same time. He wants to be sure to impress her, and to make the most of it so his resume is as good as possible.

Adam returns home then goes back to read through new materials for upcoming auditions. He gives up after he notices that he can’t concentrate. His thoughts drift to Y/N as he thinks of how good she looked that night at the party, and how perfectly disheveled she looked walking the other day. He wonders what she would look like after he’s wrecked her, then he thinks about her great her tits looked in that outfit, and her perky ass. And he realizes that now he’s hard. He unbuttons his pants and reaches down to stroke his cock. He begins stroking, thinking of how Y/N’s mouth would feel sucking him, how her pussy would feel around him, and how she would look when he made her cum. He strokes at a faster pace until he feels the familiar tingle in his spine. Then his orgasm hits him and streaming cum is across his hands and his stomach.

He thinks that he’s going to have to make a move on Y/N, or else he’ll always regret it. He’s interested in her in every way: sexually, emotionally, and intellectually, and he supposes he’ll settle for any part of her she’ll give him.

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

               Once everyone is gone, you crash down on the couch beside Marnie, and you look around at the mess left from the party. You grab some a container of cookie dough and a couple of spoons, and the two you snack and talk about how great the party was.  Marnie stares at you, so finally ask, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I saw you talked to Adam most of the night.” Marnie says in an accusatory tone and gets up to pick up some of the trash.

“What? We have a lot in common. I’m not going to apologize for it. You spend the night talking to Charlie, how did that go?” You say, desperate to change the topic.

“It was good, I forgot how I had felt about him. Then it’s all coming rushing back. I guess we’ll see how it goes.” Marnie says and you’re worried because while Charlie seems like a nice guy, he did have no problem ditching her and disappearing.

“I hope it works out or get what you need from it. Do you want to finish cleaning up in the morning?”

Marnie shakes her head yes and you retreat into your room, and fall into your bed. Sleep hits you at once.

[fishfingersandjellybabies]

A Miracle In The Family - brood au

Characters: Clark Kent, Jason Todd, Lois Lane, Diana Prince, Dick Grayson, various others Pairing: implied/past superbat Summary: Jason ran off after his birth mother, and was now in the hands of the Joker. Clark just hoped against hope he’d get to his boy in time. A/N: Obviously this AU’s take on Jason’s (not) death. He’s 14/15 here (and Dick is around 18, here’s the breakdown of years apart the kids are if you forgot like I did). I don’t remember all of the canon Jason dying storyline, so forgive how it’s probably all wrong regarding Jason’s ma. I tried to follow the kind of outline of this I made in the last chapter of ‘Whole’ but suck at everything so didn’t really. Sorry ending is bad and vague. Jason attempts to be Robin a little after this but I don’t think he sticks to it much/for long, and this is probably a bit of a lead-in into how Conner and Tim get into heroing. 

Other Brood AU things.

~~

Clark could kick himself. Wanted to, honestly. Wanted to straight up die, was the real truth.

Because he didn’t notice. Somehow, he didn’t fucking notice.

Didn’t notice the extra research Jason was doing. Didn’t think about how Jason was talking about his birth mother an awful lot all of the sudden.

Didn’t notice the Robin suit was missing until now. Didn’t notice that Jason wasn’t home in his room, that none of his siblings had any idea he was gone or where he was going. Until it might just be too fucking late.

“Just…” He breathed into the phone. “I…I don’t know. Get to the house. Stay at the house.” A tremor, in his own voice. “Don’t let Cass or any of the boys leave your sight, okay?”

“Okay.” Dick practically whispered. Clark could hear the car roaring down the road in the background. “I won’t, Dad. I’ll keep them safe. Just keep me in the loop, alright?”

“I’ll try.” He paused, as he began to follow a river, knew the river was the trail to Gotham. “But even if I don’t, no hero stuff, okay? No waltzing in to save the day. You get to Smallville and you stay in Smallville, got it?”

Dick hesitated, and Clark could almost hear him biting his lip.

“Okay?” Clark repeated. “Promise me, Dick.”

“Yeah, but Jason-”

“Promise me.” Clark nearly begged.

Dick sighed. “Call if you need help. Me, Diana, anyone. Jay’s already run off on his own – apparently. Last thing we need is you doing it, too.”

“I will.” Clark swore himself. “I’ve already given Lois a call too, and she’ll be there when she can be. Though the Daily will probably want to cover this as breaking news so…I’m not sure how soon that’ll be.”

“No problem.” Dick mumbled. “I’m almost there.”

“Good. I’m sorry I took you from work.” Another pause, and Clark could feel Dick’s own fear, even through the phone. He wondered if Dick could feel his too. “…I’ll bring him home, Dick. I swear on my life.”

“Okay.” Dick murmured childishly. “I’m about to the farm, and I think I can see Conner and Cassie outside, so I’m gonna go.”

“Okay.” Clark nodded to himself. “Love you.”

“Love you too, Dad.” Dick returned, a little too seriously for Clark’s liking. Though, right now, nothing was going to Clark’s liking.

Dick hung up without another word, and Clark absently shoved the phone back in his belt, returning all focus to the city appearing over the horizon ahead, and the boy within its walls that he would do anything not to lose.

“Hang on for me, Jay.” He prayed, pushing with all his strength to fly as fast as he could. Mostly to himself, to whatever god that was listening. But also into the communicator in his ear, that connected only to Robin. He couldn’t tell if Jason’s was on, if he had it, or if it had been destroyed. But he could have sworn he heard a ragged breath or two. “Please just hang on.”

The city was already abuzz with what little information anyone had. Televisions and electronic billboards were all broadcasting the grainy video and blurry stills that the Joker had released. Repeating the god-awful news.

The Joker had Robin. The Joker had already beaten Robin into the ground. Would continue to do so until he was bored, or until the little bird died, he’d declared with that hideous laugh. And no one would stop him, even if they wanted to. Because no one could.

People looked up at him as he flew overhead, but for once, he had to ignore them. Had to keep his focus, no playing up to the crowds today. Not when his boy needed him.

Not when his son might die.

He could see them talking, though. Whispering. They all put two and two together, knew Superman was here to try and save Robin.

He could see them all pitying him, too. Because none of them believed he would make it.

Poor Superman, they sighed to each other. Just wasting his breath. Try as he might, no one gets saved in Gotham. That’s just the facts.

He didn’t blame them for thinking so. Gotham was cruel. Heartbreakingly cruel. They were just realists.

But he couldn’t let that stop him. Never had before, and absolutely refused for this to be the first time.

So he took a deep breath. Deep and shuddering. He wanted to cry, but knew he couldn’t. Not until he found his boy.

He exhaled, and kept that focus, waded through the heartbeats he could hear, looking for that one. That one of seven he knew better than anyone else on this ridiculous human planet.

It took him too long. Longer than it ever had before. But eventually he found it. Slow and weak, but around the west side harbor. Sweet, stubborn Jason.

He blinked and he was there, the heartbeat growing louder in his ear every second. But not faster. Oh, no. The louder it got, the slower it seemed to become, and dread filled Clark’s soul.

And suddenly, there was a beep nearby. Somewhere in the warehouse complex.

Beep. Second. Beep. Second. Beep. Second.

Laughter. Terrible, screeching laughter. Not from the same place, but somewhere close.

And below it all: tears. Quiet, pained sobs. A quiet gasp of “Mom…”

Beep. Second. Beep. Second. Beep. Second.

He could hear it in his ear too. Tinny and soft through that communicator he hadn’t been sure was still on.

Clark’s whole world stopped.

A bomb. There was a bomb.

The warehouse doors didn’t stand a chance. He burst through them like they weren’t even there, not caring where the shrapnel landed. A woman shrieked, and for once in his life, Clark couldn’t care less.

Because…there!

There, across the room. Jason was sprawled on the ground in a pool of blood. He was barely conscious, but was trying to stand, trying to get onto his hands and knees, looking at a point across the room. But his obviously mangled hand kept slipping in the blood, and bouncing off the crowbar that had been dropped next to him.

The bomb was between him and Clark, and it read two seconds.

Clark didn’t think. Didn’t even breathe. Took off across the giant room as fast as he could, afraid that it still might not be fast enough. And even as he moved, he saw Jason’s mouth move. Bloody and bruised, he watched Jason as he continued to stare across the floor, and once again said, “Mom…!”

Oh yes, the woman. Jason’s mother. His real mother, the one who abandoned him too many years before.

The clock struck one second, and he still didn’t care about her. Only cared about the boy he still felt too far away from.

But he was Superman. He was supposed to save everyone. Even the bad guys.

And how would Jason react, if he left his mother behind?

But there was no time to think about it, so he ran on autopilot. He grabbed Robin, curled him up into his arm, and then he turned, jumped and grabbed the woman. She was tied to a post, and Clark didn’t bother attempting to be gentle as he ripped her out of the rope.

He was a foot away from the warehouse threshold when the bomb went off.

He threw the woman out of the building and to the side as the heat hit his back. Curled his whole body around Jason as they were knocked to the ground, covered him as the fires cried and raged around them.

“Mom.” Jason wheezed, even as he curled his bloody fingers into Clark’s uniform. “M-Mom…!”

Clark glanced up. Could see the woman hobbling to her feet a safe distance away, looking into the flames for them.

Or…or was she looking for a way to escape?

“She’s okay, Jay.” Clark whispered anyway, ducking his head back down, refusing to let even Jason’s hair be exposed to more pain and injury. “I got her out, too.”

“C-Clark.” Jason coughed, and even in the shadow, Clark could see tears cascading down Jason’s battered face. “D-D-Dad…”

“I’ve got you, baby.” Clark murmured himself, holding Jason as close as he could. And even as he said it, even as he kissed Jason’s temple, relief washed through his body.

Because he did. He got to him.

Just in the goddamn nick of time.

The initial explosion finally settled, and Clark felt that it was safe enough to move. Carefully, he stretched Jason across his arms, tried not to cringe at the pitiful wails of pain Jason gasped with every movement.

When Jason was finally settled against his chest, Clark stood and looked around.

Jason’s mother was gone, and not a single trace of her was left.

“Sorry.” Jason sobbed weakly. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Clark suddenly wondered who the apology was for. Himself, or the mother who had apparently just abandoned him again.

He remained on scene just long enough for Commissioner Jim Gordon and his police department to arrive. Not on purpose, but it took him that long to get a safe enough distance away from the wreckage, and to think of a plan. Head to the nearest hospital? The Fortress?

But after speaking briefly with Gordon, and informing him that he was taking Robin, he decided neither of them were good enough, and headed towards the closest transporter to the Watchtower.

Jason came in and out of consciousness the whole journey, but the blood never seemed to stop flowing. He was whiter than a sheet by the time he got him to the ICU, and Clark was terrified that he’d lose him before they could get a transfusion started.

So he didn’t let go of his hand. So small and cold, Clark clung to it as his fellow Leaguers rushed around him, setting up tubes and machines and needles. Jason whimpered and whined, but he couldn’t do much else. He didn’t have the energy or the strength.

And even as his friends got him situated, and on the path to stability, Clark couldn’t help but fear the worst. What if they lost him? What would any of them do if they lost him?

What would his kids do? God, what would he do?

He didn’t think he could take it. Jeez, look at how he dealt with losing Bruce, and that was just a disappearance, an assumed death. Here, he’d watch, first hand, Jason wither away.

It’d destroy him. Him and Lois and his entire family.

He stayed, even after his friends did everything they could. Even after they got the transfusions going, the monitors beeping and the injuries wrapped or otherwise taken care of. Sat there, holding his boy’s hand, wallowing in the possibilities of the next twenty-four hours.

So he didn’t hear the rap on the door, or the throat clearing. Didn’t react until he felt a hand on his shoulder and jerked up to find Diana staring sadly down at him.

“I called home for you.” She whispered. “Talked to Lois and Dick. Told them what’s happening.”

“Thank…” Clark coughed, his throat unknowingly dry and scratchy. “Thank you, Diana.”

She nodded. “Dick is beside himself, and wants to come up here right away. Lois was able to convince him to stay home with his remaining siblings until morning.” Diana frowned. “The children are all beside themselves.”

“No doubt.” Clark sighed, risking releasing Jason’s hand to run it down his face. He blinked in confusion though, as he felt the early signs of stubble on his chin. “Wha…?”

“You need a break.” Diana suggested gently. “I will sit with him while you go rest.”

“No, I need to be here. I need to stay with him.” Clark shook his head. He glanced out the nearby window, though, and frowned. The stars were in a different place than he thought they should have been. “…How long have we been here?”

“It has been about ten hours since you brought him up here.”

“Feels like it’s been twenty minutes…”

“Because you are exhausted.” Diana tugged softly on his arm. “You need your rest.”

“But…”

“I will come get you the moment he wakes, should he at all.” Diana promised. “Jason will never be alone. I swear that to you, Clark. Not even for a second.”

And he wanted to shake his head. He needed to stay. He couldn’t leave his son, not after almost losing him. Not after not even realizing he’d gone.

But he knew if he didn’t, Diana would force him. Lock him into their makeshift prison, use Kryptonite on him.

And…maybe she was right.

“Just next door.” Clark mumbled, reluctantly standing. He stood for a second, before leaning down and kissing Jason’s forehead. The boy didn’t move. He breathed via machine for now, and it didn’t take an inhale for him for another second. “And if anything…”

“I will get you.” Diana nodded, all but pushing him from the room. “Rest well, my friend, and know that we will do everything we can for him.”

Clark nodded wearily, shuffling to the next door. When he got into the room he stood there, staring down at the white, clean sheets. He hadn’t taken off his bloody uniform yet, and was too tired to do so now.

“…I’m sorry, Bruce.” He found himself whispering into the silence. The silence didn’t answer. He sighed, swallowed the lump in his throat, and laid down on the cot.

~~

He awoke to another hand on his shoulder, and opened his eyes to find Dick staring down at him.

“Hey, Dad.” Dick whispered. He didn’t look much better than Clark felt, skin gray and dark circles under his eyes. He looked like he hadn’t slept. And Clark had to be honest with himself – his eldest probably didn’t.

“Dick…”

“You doing okay?” Dick asked as Clark sat up, stumbled to his feet.

“Fine. Tired, but…fine enough.” Clark mumbled as gathered Dick into his arms. Held him for just a moment. Relished in the feeling of Dick hugging him just as tightly. “Have you seen…”

“Yeah.” Dick croaked into Clark’s chest. “Lois is in there with Tim and Conner right now. Barry and Arthur are distracting Damian and Jon for the time being. Diana is helping Cassie process it all.” Dick sighed, leaned his weight against him. “I just…needed a break.”

“I know the feeling.” Clark mumbled into his eldest’s hair. Absently rubbed at his back. “I’m just…god, I’m just glad I made it in time.”

“Me too.” Dick agreed, leaning back. Clark couldn’t help but hold Dick’s cheek. He just looked so tired. So much older than his years. “…He looks terrible, Clark.”

“I know, son.” Clark nodded, that lump in his throat from before he slept still there. “I’m glad you didn’t see what I did when I found him.”

Silence.

“…Has anyone said anything?” Clark asked, gently turning Dick towards the door and leading him out. He heard Jon’s laughter before he saw them. Found his mouth twitching into a small smile as he watched Barry run around (at a human speed) with Jon on his back. Damian was sitting on a sofa nearby with Arthur, critically examining his trident. “Found anything out?”

Dick kept his frown, glancing towards the door of Jason’s room.

“Typical Joker things.” Dick mumbled. “…The mom was in on it.”

Clark froze. “What.”

“Jason’s mom.” Dick repeated, sounding just as bitter as Clark felt. “She was working with that bastard. Knew what the Joker had planned, more or less, and lured Jason there anyway. J’onn said her being tied to a pole was probably the Joker betraying her. Can’t say I’m surprised.”

Clark turned away, looked in through the window of Jason’s door. He still wasn’t conscious. Lois was holding his hand. Tim was holding the other one. Conner was at the window, staring angrily out into space.

“…I regret saving her.” Clark whispered furiously. “I’ve…I’ve never regretted saving anyone, not even Lex. But.” His fist tightened. “I will regret saving her until the day I die.”

Dick didn’t say anything to that. He didn’t act proud. But he sure didn’t act disappointed either.

“…He must have known.” Clark murmured thoughtfully, glancing at Dick when he heard Damian call his name. Watched Dick give him a tight smile and short wave. “Jason, when I found him. He…he had to have known.” Quieter, sadder. “…And he was still trying to save her, when I got there.”

Suddenly, Clark realized what Jason’s initial apologies were for.

Dick bit his lip. Closed his eyes and looked away. “…What are we going to do, Dad?”

“No, no. There is no ‘we’, Dick.” Clark pushed, turning towards Dick completely. “Nothing here is your responsibility.”

“He’s my brother.” Dick pushed back. “We share a room. I should have noticed something was up. I should have stopped him before any of this happened.”

“No, you shouldn’t have.” Clark shook his head. “Eight people live in that house total, and not a single one noticed. I didn’t notice. If this is anyone’s fault, Dick, it’s mine. Not yours. Never yours.”

Dick sniffed, wiped at his eyes.

“Besides, you did what you were supposed to, honey.” Clark put a hand on his shoulder. “You came when I called, and you took care of the rest of the kids.”

Dick turned back to look into Jason’s hospital room himself. He didn’t gasp, or break down, the tears just silently started pouring down his face. Clark did the only thing he could. Just pulled Dick back into his arms, and held him as tight as he could as he sobbed into his neck.

“What if he doesn’t make it?” Dick wailed. “God, Clark. Dad, what if we lose him?”

“Don’t think like that, sweetheart.” Clark whispered, holding the back of his head. “Please, don’t. Just have faith in your brother, okay? Jason’s a tough kid. If anyone can make it through this, it’s our Jay.”

Dick gave a little hiccup, and tried to nod. Clark just held him. He glanced over once, saw both Diana and Arthur watching them sadly.

But with Arthur distracted, Damian made his escape. Hopped from the couch they were on and came running at them. Didn’t say anything when he reached them, just latched on to Dick’s waist.

After a moment, Clark released his eldest, turning to his second youngest. “Hey, baby. Can you do me a favor?”

Damian didn’t let go of Dick, but glanced up curiously.

“Take Dickie over to Uncle Arthur, okay?” He asked. “And how about you tell him what Uncle Arthur taught you about Atlantis and the trident.”

Damian nodded, and shifted only to take Dick’s hand and drag him away. They didn’t make it to Arthur, before Cassandra appeared too, giving Dick just as big a hug as Damian and Clark had.

Clark smiled, just a little. His kids were so smart.

He waited long enough to watch Diana lead them all back to Arthur, and all of them pile onto the sofa, before turning and entering Jason’s room.

Lois looked up at the sound of the door. Tim glanced at him for just a second. Conner didn’t move from the window.

Silently, he walked around the bed, pecking Conner’s temple before wrapping a loose arm around Tim’s shoulders, rubbing at his arm.

Jason was unchanged. Still pale, covered in wires, but worst of all, unconscious.

“How soon until he can come home?” Tim asked quietly. It was naïve, but so innocent it broke Clark’s heart.

“I don’t know, Tim.” Clark whispered. “I just don’t know.”

“Boys, can you go make sure Jon and Damian aren’t driving the League out of their minds?” Lois asked politely, standing from her chair. Tim nodded almost gratefully, like he was looking for a reason to escape the room. Clark didn’t blame him. Jason was a soul-crushing sight.

He shrugged off Clark’s hand, then turned and tugged Conner’s elbow until the other moved. They disappeared silently.

Lois waited until the door was closed before looking back at Clark. She studied him for a moment, then tilted her head.

“How you doing, Smallville?”

“I feel like he looks, if that makes sense.” Clark murmured. “I just…I want to fix it. I want to fix everything. I’m Superman, I’m supposed to. But…I don’t know how.”

“Clark, you’re not a doctor. You know you can’t.” Lois offered. “The best you can do is be there for him, like you always have been. Be there for him and the other kids.”

“How am I supposed to be there for all of them if I’m barely dealing with it myself?” Clark whispered sadly, running a hand through his hair. He didn’t realize how greasy it was until now. “God, Dick just broke down in my arms because he thinks Jason’s gonna die. I can already tell Conner’s going to bottle this all up until he explodes. Tim looks like he’s aged one hundred years since yesterday, and I don’t even want to know how this will affect Cass and the babies.”

“I’ll help you where I can.” Lois smiled. “And while you’re there for the kids, I’ll be there for you. So will the whole Justice League and your parents and your friends at the Daily.”

“I appreciate that, Lois. Thank you.” Clark sighed, hooked his fingers around Jason’s. They were still so cold. “…God, Bruce would hate me for this.”

Lois’s comforting demeanor dropped immediately. “Clark…”

“And I wouldn’t blame him.” Clark woed. “Christ, he left his kids with me because he thought I could protect them, and here I almost got one killed.”

“At least you were there. At least you got to him in time.” Lois countered. “And like you said, he left them. He’s not the one here at his son’s bedside. You are.”

“He’s dead, Lois.” Clark reminded. “He’d absolutely be here if he wasn’t. Hell, Jason wouldn’t have ever gotten the opportunity to run off if Bruce was still able to raise him.”

“My point is, don’t do this to yourself, Clark. The what-ifs and thinking about Bruce isn’t going to help.” Lois tried. “You don’t need it, and neither does Jason.”

Clark sighed, and glanced out the door. Zatanna was there now, distracting Conner, Cass and Damian with magic tricks. Diana’s protégé Donna had appeared now too, and was sitting where Arthur had been, Dick leaned exhaustedly against her neck as she hugged him, smiling at Jon on his lap. Tim sat next to Dick, half leaning against his brother while teasing to tickle Jon at the same time.

Then he looked back down at Jason. Comatose and half-dead. A shell of himself.

“What do we do now, Lo?” Clark whispered.

Lois sat back down, retook Jason’s fingers for her own. “Now we wait.”

~~

Clark sighed as he sat down, inhaling the steam from his fresh mug of coffee. Smiled softly at Dick in the chair next to him, long asleep from before he even arrived. But the love for his brother was still palpable in the air, even if you didn’t notice the almost-actually-beard stubble on his face.

He’d been against the idea at first. Dick, trying to start out on his own as a young adult, taking a leave of absence from his job to stay at the Watchtower with Jason 24/7. That wasn’t Dick’s job, that was Clark’s.

But now he appreciated it. Appreciated the little shop in Smallville who employed his eldest for now. When he gave them the vague story, they’d immediately said to take as much time as he needed. Even mailed treats to the house, and started a tip-jar fundraiser for Jason’s (non-existent) medical expenses.

People were still good, despite where he was right now, and that was always a nice thought to remember.

He blew on the steam from his coffee and looked at Jason as he sat down. It’d been about two weeks now, since he’d found his boy in the nick of time and brought him to the Watchtower to heal. Two weeks since he’d fallen into a coma. Two weeks of waiting.

It all hurt a little less now. Mostly because nothing had changed. Sure, in the days after, Clark found the Joker and threw him in prison. But much like always with Bruce too, the bastard escaped and went underground. And Clark had bigger things to worry about right now than uselessly chasing him around a city that wasn’t his.

But after that, it was this. It was Dick sitting up here alone most of the time, give or take what ever League members were on the Watchtower, then Clark joining him whenever he could leave the office, or write his articles remotely. With Lois offering to stay with the others in Smallville, he slept here, with Dick at Jason’s side, then returned to the office the next morning.

The children came to visit often, even when they weren’t supposed to, but Dick being up here so much was bad enough. He wasn’t going to let the younger ones waste away up here too, even though they all desperately wished to.

Otherwise, this was it. A fresh cup of something hot, a book or documentary to watch, machines beeping, and this boring, ugly, gray room.

Every. Single. Day.

So today wouldn’t be any different. Today, he shouldn’t expect anything to be any different.

Except, apparently, it was.

He was sitting there reading, had already tuned out all sounds. Tuned his powers to listen only to the sounds of heartbeats. Of the slow, steadying breathing of Dick and Jason. Calming, for the most part.

So he missed the quiet groan. Missed the little word, almost, just assumed it was Dick talking in his sleep.

But he sure didn’t miss that second time.

“…Dad…?”

He was on his feet so fast, the chair he shoved backwards was embedded into the wall behind it, the mug sitting on the arm shattered amongst the wires lining the floor.

Jason’s eyes were barely open, and even struggling that as Clark gently put a hand on his face. It took him a good five seconds to find the strength to raise his eyes and meet Clark’s already tearful gaze.

“Whu happened…?” Jason slurred. “W’ere are we?”

“In the Watchtower.” Clark whispered, running his other hand over Jason’s greasy, shaggy hair. “Safe.”

Jason didn’t seem to actually understand anything he’d said. Just blinked slowly. A little too slowly, and Clark almost thought he was going back to sleep.

But then his gaze jerked back up, hazy and not completely there. “Joker?”

“He did this, yes.”

Jason’s eyes twitched around the room, even as he leaned into Clark’s hand still on his face. “…Mom?”

“Alive. I don’t know where.” Clark shook his head. Leaned his foot out and began softly, but urgently, tapping his foot against Dick’s shin. “She…ran off, when I got you both out.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Dick stirred, then. Grumbled a little, but sat up rubbing his eyes. It took him a second, about ten, to realize what was going on.

“Oh my god.” He was on his feet as fast as Clark had been, and practically pushed the elder out of the way to get to Jason himself, curling him protectively into his arms. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.”

Jason’s fingers twitched in an attempt to hug Dick back, but it was all still too new, and he was still too weak.

“Dick.” Clark murmured. “Careful.”

“Yeah.” And Dick was already crying. Already practically sobbing into Jason’s hair. “Yeah, I know.”

Clark gave them that moment. Let Dick smother for a minute or two more, then carefully pulled him back by his shoulder.

“You gonna make it?” Clark joked. Dick just laughed and wiped his eyes. “Go grab whoever’s on the station for me, please? Then call Lois if you could. Let her know what’s going on.”

Dick nodded, then gave Jason one last look, as if he’d be gone by the time Dick returned, then dashed out into the hall.

Clark watched after him for a moment, as he bound happily around the Watchtower, until he once again heard the tiny, weak voice.

“…Dad?”

Clark looked back, kept his own warm, relieved smile as he stepped back up to the side of the bed. Jason’s eyes were a little clearer now. A little sadder.

“Dad, I’m so sorry.”

Clark just nodded silently as he perched on the side of the bed and wrapped one arm carefully around Jason’s shoulders. Jason collapsed against his side just as J’onn appeared in the doorway and made a beeline for the medical equipment.

Clark didn’t respond to Jason. Just gently rubbed at his shoulder and gratefully kissed his head. Held him while J’onn began his examination.

~~

It was over another month before Jason was released to even go recuperate at the farm. And even when he was, he was sent home with a laundry list of medications, physical therapy routines, and a calendar of when Justice Leaguers would be visiting for follow-ups.

But when he was released, the whole family went up to gather him. Tim, Conner and Cassie carried all his clothes and personal items, with Damian carrying a loose thing or two. Dick handled the medications. Even Lois went, and she volunteered to take all the paperwork, and threatened hell on everyone if even a single word on any of these charts was wrong.

Jon clung to Jason’s side from the moment they arrived at the Watchtower, and refused to leave it. Would whine and cry if anyone tried to pull his hand from Jason’s, and even trigged his previously-unused heat vision. So, they left him there, and he acted as Jason’s personal escort from satellite to horse stable.

They used the transporter, with Lois going before Jason to catch him on the other side, and Clark coming after. And even when they landed, Jon gleefully continued his duty, and was the one gently leading Jason across the dirt, back towards their home.

At one point, about halfway, Jason stopped, already exhausted. Jon waited patiently, staring off into the distance, waving at some birds flying overhead. Clark silently came up on Jason’s free side.

They’d already talked about it. Of course they had. What Jason had done, what he was looking for, what Clark came upon with only seconds left. They’d talked about it, and re-talked about it. They’d shouted and cried and apologized a thousand times over, and then some.

But still.

“Your family’s right here.” Clark reminded, putting a hand on Jason’s shoulder. “I know it’s a different story when it comes to biological parents and all that, but…don’t think you have to go looking for someone to love you. Not when you have all these people here who already do.”

Jason nodded, leaning into Clark’s side. “I know.” He smiled, then gave a little laugh. “Well, I know that now, anyway.”

A moment to just stare at their house, like they were a couple of old men.

“I love you, Dad.” Jason whispered. “Thanks for not giving up on me.”

Jason stepped forward again, and Jon jumped right to his side, already asking him if he was alright, that he could take another break if he wanted, that he’d bring him a burger from downtown if he wanted it, or his favorite cow from the pasture, who missed him a lot.

Clark smiled, watching the two go into the house. Then let out a long exhale and looked into the sky. Thought of Bruce, for just a moment. Thought longer about how truly lucky he was right now, in this moment.

“Never, Jay.” He promised. “Absolutely never.”

[mightylauren]

Avengers Endgame SPOILER FILLED Thoughtstream

Pretty much a blow by blow reaction stream straight from my mind in list form of the entire movie from beginning to end. Clearly full of spoilers so it’s below the cut and tagged to death. There’s some all caps screaming. A few keyboard smashes. A fair amount of cussing. Probably a fair amount of typos as I typed this while totally not rewatching it in the comfort of my home. 

Totally not.

I don’t really expect anyone to read all of this but it was all festering in my mind and now it’s out. 

SERIOUSLY I SPOIL LIKE EVERYTHING BELOW THE CUT DON’T CLICK IT UNLESS YOU’RE SURE YOU WANT TO SEE IT.

Who put’s mayo on a hotdog?

Oh man hawks didn’t even see it happen nooo. I knew we were opening with Barton family dusting but ouch.

Tony calling Nebula the blue meanie!

Nebula refusing the last of the food and making Tony eat it makes me love her even more. 

Tony somehow keeps his sense of humor even in the face of death. God I love him. I know he’s gonna make it off this ship.

HA, that Internet joke about Carol showing up right after the trailer scene is true. That’s hilarious.

They never explain how Carol knew to look for them, but I’m going to guess she came to earth ala the scene after Captain Marvel and then went back out to see if she could find him.

Or she got REALLY lucky

I’m unclear does Nebula need oxygen and food? Or just significantly less than a full on human? She seems much better off than him.

Steve shaving did we miss seeing the beard one last time by like seconds? rude.

OMG Rocket sitting down and taking Nebula’s hand. The last of their family. Everyone else gone. My heart is aching.

23 days so we’re less than a month past Vanishing Day

Ha Tony calling Rocket Build a Bear is my first genuine laugh this movie.

I honestly was dying on the inside the whole time Tony is losing his shit on Cap. I mean he needed to say it all but seeing how sick he is and falling apart. He rips off his reactor and hands it over then collapses.

My heart.

Rhodey man. “That’s cute, Thanos has a retirement plan.”

Man this is the least planning they’ve ever done before a mission. They’re just gonna pack up, hop in a space ship and go kill Thanos? Cool. Coolcoolcool.

Okay it’s pretty good to see a lot of that trailer stuff is from very early on in the movie.

“Who here hasn’t been to space? You better not throw up on my ship.” XD

How does this big ass planet that can clearly sustain life have no life on it? Just Thanos some birds and some Meiloorun fruit?

That’s a Star Wars reference for those of you who don’t cross fandom lines.

So his snapping arm looks completely borked.

OH SHIT THEY CAME IN SWINGING

FUCK THOR CHOPPED OFF HIS ARM DAMN

ASDFKSAJDOFIUA THE STONES ARE GONE

Wait why is Banner still not Hulking out? How is that suit still running?

Damn he destroyed the stones. He knew they’d come.

DAMN THOR WENT IN HARD.

We are like twenty minutes in and Thanos is dead? I… what?

*crumples up and throws away all predictions she had before going into the movie

FIVE YEARS LATER?!?

FIVE

FIVE YEARS

I should have brought a paper bag to breath into.

Okay there’s the support group. Yup a lot of the footage from trailers and stuff is front loaded at the beginning of this. Which is good, because no clue where this is genuinely going.

Did… did a rat just bring Ant-Man back? A rat?

Shit how long has it been for him?

Oh wait, he’s looking for his people maybe not that long.

P-professor Chang?

Can you imagine how disorienting this all is for Scott? Pops out five years after a tragedy like the snap with no idea what the hell is happening.

My sister literally turned to me and said “no trash service but they built a monument?”

Valid question. Very valid. 

OMG CASSIE IS ALL GROWN UP I CAN’T.

I don’t think he fully realized how much time had passed until he saw his daughter.

“You’re so big” just made me tear up a little.

I just had a baby daughter four months ago. So I’m trying not to imagine what it would be like to vanish along with a bunch of other people and then turn back up five years later.

CAROL’S HAIR.

I’m sorry some of this is probably going to be completely incomprehensible unless you’ve seen the movie it just needs venting.

I am liking that they’re all reporting to Nat. That Rocket and Nebula are clearly teamed up.

OMG rocket made a joke about the haircut and Carol called him Fur Face

In case you didn’t know I have a ridiculous love for Rocket so I’m just glad he’s got a support system right now with almost the entirety of his found family dusted.

Capt. Marvel is basically saying she’s out for most of this movie isn’t she? I guess that makes sense she’s OP as hell.

Rhodey is tracking Clint but reluctantly. Clint’s clearly gone off the deepens a bit. Vigilante. Nat isn’t taking it well. Oh no she’s crying. 

This movie is gonna kill me.

I’m trying to imagine seeing a pod of whales in the Hudson River and I can’t imagine it. 

Okay so I’m guessing Scott’s about to turn up covering another major point from the early trailers. Yes yes yes. This is good.

Nat explaining that the Avengers gave her a family and a life and made her feel like she was a better person. Oh girl. You’ve done enough. It’s okay.

HA THE LOOKS ON THEIR FACES ARE PRICELESS

Scott doesn’t know science. He’s trying so hard. We need the Science Bros. Where are they?

FIVE HOURS

FIVE FUCKING HOURS?

HE WAS IN FOR FIVE HOURS AND LOST FIVE YEARS????

“Scott, I get e-mails from a raccoon so nothing seems crazy anymore.” LFAO

Tony has a daughter I’m dying. It had to be a little girl. 

Wait is he serious about eating crickets on lettuce? He might be this is semi post-apocalyptic.

Tony does not look happy to see them.

YES LET’S PULL A TIME HEIST. Tony isn’t feeling this but I am.

Oh, Scott, honey. Back to the Future? 

Though Tony your protege Peter used movies to make plans all the time. Maybe it’s not that laughable.

Okay I would die for his daughter. “Mommy sent me out here to save you.” Don’t think you were supposed to just say that outloud kiddo but props on a successful mission.

I know Tony too well for this. He’s saying no, because he loves his family. He needs his family. He’s scared to lose his family.

But now this idea is going to itch at the back of his brain aching to be solved.

Come on Tony lets go back to the future and pull off a time heist.

Hulk in glasses and a sweater is was not even on my theory bingo card what is happening. Is this his diner? They had to find him so he’s clearly not working for Nat right now. I have so many questions.

This whole thing with the kids is awkward. 

Come to think of it I have questions about how the infrastructure that is supporting things like cell phone networks is still functioning after the vanishing. Maybe because it’s been five years.

Is Nat flirting with Banner to get him to help?

Tony looking at a picture of Peter he’s got to try.

OH MY GOD HE GOT IT IN ONE EVENING.

EVEN HE LOOKS SURPRISED.

SHIT! 

I’m glad there is laughter in this movie and it’s not entirely heavy. I mean it’s Marvel I should have known.

He calls his daughter Little Miss. And she just extorted a juice pop out of him. I love Dad Tony. 

This is gonna hurt later I just know it. I can feel it in my gut.

“I love you 3000” My heart.

I’m glad that Tony is just going to have a straight up honest conversation with his wife about this.

He’s grown so much.

Oh Pepper, she’s telling him to do it. There’s some unsaid deep communication happening in this conversation. Bless this pair so much. She’s going to let him go and he’s going to go even though his gut his telling him that the road is not going to end well for him.

That’s why he wants to put it in a lock box and drop it to the bottom of a lake.

This is just so damn good so far. No complaints yet.

I kind of love this Hulk. He has no idea what he’s doing here but I love him. He’s like only half taking this seriously.

BAHAHAHA THIS TEST. HE comes back as a baby and Hulk is like “He’ll grow” I mean he’s not wrong but not the right answer buddy.

Another genuinely funny scene. 

“TIME TRAVEL!” With his hulk arms held wide.

Tony is literally speeding in his car there. Cap doesn’t even look that surprised.

Oh this is the Tony and Steve getting back on the same page moment I’ve been waiting for. I love it. I really love it.

HE BROUGHT THE SHIELD.

I love that it was in the trunk buried under kids stuff.

Tony is back and I love it even if I’m scared it’s gonna mean his end.

“Rhodey, careful on reentry theres an idiot in the landing zone.” As if I couldn’t love Nebula more in this movie.

Wait “New Asgard Please Drive Slowly” just threw me for a total loop. Good to know all the Asgardians didn’t actually die in that ship.

VALKYRIE!!!!

She’s like not acknowledging the Raccoon LMFAO

Holy hell what is happening here. Oh man Thor what have you done to yourself.

Actually, I get it. 

Are they playing Fortnite? 

This whole scene is super surreal right now. 

I actually kinda dig it but I did NOT see it coming. This movie has gone places I never would have predicted.

Thor kept strong for so long. He lost so much. He got all the way to the point where he’d done all he could think. He killed Thanos and there was no way to undo all that could be done so he just settled and existed. He drank and played video games with his buddies.

I get it.

Rocket just lured him onto the ship with beer. 

Was good to see Korg and Miek are alive. And there for them in their own ways.

RONIN ALERT.

Oh dude he’s just fucking people up does he even have a bow with him?

Nat waited until there was some way to undo the snap before reaching out to him. She’s just been silently tracking him waiting for a good reason to bring him in. 

In a matter of seconds Tony calls Thor “Lebowski” and Rocket “Ratchet” and I have always lived for his dumbass nicknames. 

Lebowski Thor is officially what I’m referring to this iteration of Thor.

Oh look a classic time travel trope a limit in the number of trips they can make. Makes sense though, Hank Pym was always very protective of how to make the particles so they only have what was made before the Vanishing.

I love the team debating how time travel really works. Listing all the time travel movies. Bill and Ted even snuck into the list. 

Not sure sending Clint back for the test was the best choice this is gonna be rough.

Okay he started to lose it at the end but he made it.

YES brainstorming session this’ll be fun.

Tony’s gentle handling of Thor says a lot. Tony’s been to rock bottom and recognizes the symptoms. At the same time I laughed when he offered breakfast and Thor said no he wanted a Bloody Mary.

ROCKET CALLING SCOTT AN EXCITED PUPPY BAHAHAHA

Nebula is so dramatic I’m here for it. 

Laying all over the desk brainstorming for Nat to finally figure out that there are three stones in one place at one time. This is the content I came for.

TIME HEIST LETS GO.

And just like that its 2012 this is surreal.

LMFAO HULK DOESN’T WANT TO SMASH.

Interesting seeing what the Ancient One was doing during the battle of New York. On a roof defending the sanctum from Chitauri.

OH SHIT SHE JUST PUSHED BANNER’S SOUL OUTA HIS HULK BODY

I didn’t see that coming.

Just a glimpse of Loki. :-(

It was almost cruel to send Thor to Asgard to do this. I mean someone had to go with Rocket, but damn this is tough to watch.

DAMN Rocket smacked him. And also just called Mantis “the chick with the antenna”. Pep talk’s not bad but Thor is crying I don’t think he can do this.

I don’t know why they want to do it that way anyway, Jane would have taken one look at him and known it was the wrong Thor.

Wait… they’re sending Nat and Clint to Vormir… oh God… oh no…

Okay so that’s going to suck in a few minutes lets just put a pin in that.

Nebula you waited a bit to tell Rhodey that there’s another you out there looking for the same infinity stone you’re there to fetch. 

Oh look its like just barely pre-Guardians Gamora, Nebula, and unfortunately Thanos.

I have a bad feeling about this.

OH SHIT I HAVE A VERY BAD FEELING ABOUT THIS.

Turns out two Nebula’s in one place is bad voodoo. She’s seeing video from the other Nebula which means THANOS can see video from the other….

Yeah this is all gonna go bad.

HAHAHA Tony just checked out Steve’s ass. 

AMERICA’S ASS!!!

It’s hard to remember that this shit is going to fall apart when I’m laughing.

Tony just flicked Ant-Man to his target and all I can think about is Gimli an “toss me” from LOTR.

Is Cap about to fuck up a bunch of people in the elevator again?

STEVE YOU SNEAKY BASTARD YOU JUST HAIL HYDRA’D AND STOLE THE SCEPTER.

2012 Time heist is about to hit a hiccup isn’t it. OH MAN they just gave Tony a heart attack.

LOKI NO

I mean yes but no. Loki just nicked the Tesseract and dipped with it. 2012 Loki is just gone.

There’s like timeline repercussions there. Not entirely sure what they are but there will be repercussions.

Cap fighting himself! CAP CHECKING OUT HIS OWN ASS!

Man the Time Heist is so rapid fire there’s too much to absorb.

“I’m totally from the future.” - Lebowski Thor breaking a law of time travel

Thor’s heart to heart with his mom is giving me feels. He needed this.

YES MJOLNIR IS COMING WITH HIM!

Ok it’s never occurred to me how ridiculous Quill would look dancing around without the music. That’s hilarious.

AH SHIT THANOS KNOWS AND HE’S THERE AND THIS IS WHERE IT GOES TO SHIT.

NEBULA </3

It’s so good seeing Steve and Tony back on the same page trusting each other. And clearly completely throwing Scott “Piss-Ant” Lang for a loop. 

I didn’t expect a detour to the 70’s. AAAND that’s his Dad. Tony’s just run into his own father. 

This movie is a roller coaster I’ll tell ya.

This is all mush if you’ve read this far you deserve an award. Or a sticker. One of those.

What a weird decision to have Tony have this whole meet up with his father here. And now Steve is taking refuge in Peggy’s office. Like this is almost mean to do this to these two. 

Why is it the Russo’s never could decide if Steve had gotten over Peggy or not gotten over Peggy. Back and forth and back again. I take it we aren’t going to see the niece at all in this one?

Alright boys lets get the hell out of the 70s this felt like a weird trip without the drugs.

Damn Nebula why is past you such a bitch when I love present you so much. I know I know that’s because you grew and what not but shit I don’t know what you and Thanos are about to do but it’s about to suck.

FUCK I FORGOT ABOUT VORMIR BECAUSE THERE WAS SO MUCH GOING ON

I’m not ready for this. I’m not ready for this. I don’t want either of them to die. This sucks. No No no no onoanfnaondaksldfj;lasdkja;

God we’re going to have to literally watch them fight over which one is going to sacrifice themself.

Here it is, I’m crying now. Me and Barton are just going to cry here in this puddle if you need us. 

They’re all back, except Nat. Which means that’s the wrong damn Nebula and no one notices because NO NAT. Shit. Shit shit.

This movie is going to give me a heart attack.

“Did she have any family?” “Yeah. Us.” :’-(

Okay Thanos like fucked up a whole mining community and shut down a star afterwards to forge a gauntlet to put the stones in and here’s Tony Stark plopping them into like an Iron Man armor piece like its nothing.

Looks sleek too. I dig it.

And they’re all too busy with the glove to notice fucking Nebula. SHIT. 

Man it’s hurting Hulk just to WEAR the damn thing. Thanos was just strolling around wearing it, which doesn’t bode well considering I see Nebula is bringing Thanos here. 

Cool. That’s cool. This is fine. 

How long of a moment of joy are they going to get. Clint’s wife is calling. Birds are singing. Shit is inches from a fan.

THERE’S THE SHIT. HOLY SHIT HE’S BLOWING AVENGERS HQ COMPLETELY OFF THE MAP NOOOOOOO

There’s like a whole hour left. Tell me they all survived that. I was not ready. I WAS NOT READY.

Oh here’s that shot of Hawkeye in the tunnel. Much later in the movie than a lot of those trailer shots. Fascinating. 

So 2014 Thanos is here with his whole crew and there’s a complete gauntlet here. Shit.

Well, they’re all alive. They’re not together entirely but they’re all alive.

Double wielding dad bod Thor just braided his beard with lightning and I’m here for it.

The stakes are at maximum. Now Thanos wants to destroy it all not just half. So failure here can never be undone there won’t be anyone to Avenge anything if he gets the gauntlet this time. That’s not terrifying at all.

Fuck that’s the wrong Nebula. BUT THERE’S THE RIGHT NEBULA WITH GAMORA.

Clint is like in the middle of this stand off like “wtf is happening I should have kept my hands on the glove”

Nebula just killed her own past self. And she didn’t vanish so no Back to the Future rules here for sure.

Damn Thanos is giving the boys a run for their money even without a single stone. 

Shit is Thor gonna die?

HOLY SHIT CAP HAS THE HAMMER AND THE THEATER JUST MIGHT EXPLODE FROM THE SOUNDS OF THE AUDIENCE SCREAMING ABOUT THIS.

Damnit Thanos is calling in the whole army. Cap is like the last one standing on the front line and he’s not backing down because he’s Captain “America’s Ass” America. Thor is down Iron Man is down. The others are trying not to drown. Shit.

OMG ON YOUR LEFT I JUST MIGHT CRY.

HOLY SHIT ITS EVERYONE I’M CRYING. 

PEPPER FUCKING POTTS IS HERE AS RESCUE HOLY SHIT.

TALK ABOUT THE CALVARY RIDING IN AT THE LAST POSSIBLE SECOND HOLY HELL.

HE’S GONNA FUCKING SAY IT

AVENGERS ASSEMBLE!

It’s a good thing they sound proof these theaters now or you’d hear this across town the audience is going fucking nuts.

There’s too much to touch on all this chaos I’ll hit the highlights because it’s so much.

Pepper and Tony fighting back to back.

Thor and Steve switching weapons, Thor telling him to keep “the little one” aka Mjolnir.

Tony and Peter reuniting and the hug.

Quill seeing Gamora and it’s the wrong Gamora and actually that broke my heart a little bit because his Gamora is gone forever.

Playing hot potato with the gauntlet.

Scarlet Witch fucking Thanos up to the point he panics and starts firing on his own troops to get her off of him.

Spider getting the gauntlet and for the first time ever activating instant kill on purpose.

Peter becoming the hot potato along with the Gauntlet.

OMG ROCKET FOUND GROOT AND HE’S BODILY BLOCKING HIM FROM FIRE MY HEART.

When the ships started firing up my sister elbowed me and legit was like “She’s here.” 

All the women assembling around Captain Marvel!! Even Gamora is with them holy shit!

Damn it the glove is back within his reach and I can’t with this. 

GET HIM CAROL DON’T LET HIM DO IT AGAIN.

She took a headbutt to the face like it was nothing and he panicked like a bitch pulled the power stone and punched her with it. 

OH MY GOD TONY

My sister silently handed me a tissue and I fell the fuck apart.

I never thought in a million years they would have it go this way. Tony snapping. Dusting Thanos and his army. 

I can’t even comment more on this scene I’m too sad. Everything after is too sad. The funeral.

There are infinity stone colored stones in the “proof that Tony Stark has a heart” setting. 

I love you 3000 Tony Stark.

Thor leaving Valkyrie in charge and heading off with the Guardians.

Quill clearly looking for new old Gamora. I doubt she was dusted so she must have just faded away after the battle to do her own thing.

Glad that Nebula is with them though.

I feel a loose beginning set up for the actual Asgardians of the Galaxy.

Bucky said goodbye to Cap like he knew Cap wasn’t going to be back with them in five seconds. He knew.

We’re lucky he didn’t come back as a baby though. ;-)

I mean I’m surprised they went this route with Cap but I’m happy for him.

I’m happy for Sam too. We knew at the end of this the mantel had to get passed and here it is, old man Steve passing the shield to Sam.

I bet that show about “Falcon” and Bucky is really about the new Captain America and Bucky. Just saying.

Steggy shippers rejoice and the cries of a million Stony and Stucky shippers can be heard round the world.

Is that a sentence I just wrote? I never got into MCU shipping stuff personally.

And then all there is at the end is the distant sound of Tony forging that first armor.

A reminder that Tony Stark built all this in a cave.

From a box of scraps.

TONY….

I’ll be mourning Tony for a long while. I was always team Tony.

They did him right tough. His arc was satisfying and RDJ performed beautifully in this one.

My heart aches. They had to give him a daughter. I’m watching my daughter sleep totally not thinking what it would be like for her to lose her father. 

I’m gonna go hug my partner when I’m done with this.

Over all I am happy with Endgame. I mean with time travel they obviously left loose ends all over.

They say they can’t change time and the whole present becoming your past when you go back while the past is your future blah blah blah

But like clearly things are changed. 2012 Loki got the tesseract and escaped

2014 Thanos is no longer in 2014. So the Guardians movies happened but also couldn’t have happened? I dunno it’s confusing.

So basically the MCU has finally caught up with it’s comic book roots of being a confusing jumble timelines. How poetic.

Anyway if you read this you are amazing and feel free to private message me if you want to scream about Avengers Endgame and have no one else to do it with.

I feel better having vented this all out.

[thechillicount]

Bungou Stray Dogs Questionnaire

Rules: Complete all the questions you want, expand and explain your answers as much as you want, and have fun!

If you can, tag some people you want to join in on the fun!

So I tag anyone that sees this and wants to do it to have fun! Everyone is welcomed!

Thank youuuu @usagiomega

What ability would you have in the BSD universe?

(That one's hard~!)

Melodic Speed: The more I listen to music the faster and agile I get. Pretty simple, I like simple. It could get to the point that others are unable to see me because I'm that fast. (I combined two things I do most often, listening to music and being slow. Totally not inspired by Hamatora.)

If you could claim someone's ability in BSD, whose ability would you want?

(Don't say Chuuya's, don't say Chuuya's)

I'm really tempted by Edgar's ability. To trap people in books until they solve the mystery inside? I'd say dope! That would also make me write more as I have a few people I'd like to trap, just for fun~

What group/organization would you join?

Port Mafia for sure as I'm a villain at heart but still want to have a reliable and strong family around me. Also because I can wear a lot of black. But Mori can stay locked in his room.

Which BSD character do you identify with the most?

Honestly Ranpo. I do the exact same things that he does, laze around and eat baked goods. But that's only on the outside.

On the inside I identify with Chuuya a lot. Him hating betrayals is something that hits too close to home. Him wanting to protect Port Mafia that took him in after his previous group pushed him away. Him being loyal as heck not even knowing if he'll be able to stay forever or not. Like I said, hits too close to home.

Who are your top five favourite BSD characters?

(Surprise surprise)

Dazai: The very first time he appeared I took him for an asshole, which he kinda is. But then I quickly grew to like him as I was getting interested in his character on a deeper level. I like his two faced personality, he acts derpy and cute only to turn into a mischievous sadist that he truly is. The Dark Era also made me gain respect and much more love for him.

Chuuya: He introduced me to BSD when I first saw him in this MEP (bless and R.I.P MDS). So in 2016! I even remember watching BSD during Christmas Eve dinner under the table! Not gonna lie, his looks hooked me in. When I finally got him after so many episodes I was interested even more. He has some history with my boy Dazai? Show me, tell me! Until recently I've been thirsty for some more Chuuya and got it in the new season, I'm still gonna read the actual light novel though. But nonetheless, I'm satisfied. I actually hope BONES doesn't make him an another main character because I like him as he is. I like redhead hotheads like Chuuya or Taiga Kagami. Also, I was already a huge fan of GRANRODEO in 2016 so hearing Kishow was a blessing. All thanks to Kuroko no Basket. ♡

Oda: His precious heart made me love him! He just wanted to write, to take care of the kids. Each time I remember my heart cries a river. And each time something new comes to the BSD universe with him in it I love it but also can't take it.

MANGA SPOILERS

Tecchou: First of all, I really like the concept of Hunting Dogs. Second of all, this boy is precious. Justice fighter who respects people that want to protect others. The whole scene with the cafe owner moved my freaking heart, I kid you not. Unlike other members of the Hunting Dogs he doesn't want to bring down ADA just because they're supposed criminals but because it's his job to keep the country and it's people safe. And so he's doing it, no matter what he must do. I'm pretty sure that if he would find out the truth he'll try to stop his teammates and explain who's the real villain here. I hope it happens! His habits are also hilarious.

(Translation by Dazaiscans of course.)

Michizou: I don't know if I can count him as a "favorite" yet but I really liked what Asagiri-sensei and Harukawa-sensei did with him. The reveal is one of my favorite manga scenes ever! I'm looking forward to seeing more of him as I was dying to since I started watching BSD. I won't forgive him for hurting Gin though, that's one huge minus.

(Translation by Dazaiscans of course.)

Are there any authors that you'd want to bring into the BSD universe that hasn't arrived yet? Or do you have OCs?

Oh boy, here we go!

I do have one author that I think would fit very well. He's a polish poet from a romanticism era (my fave) that wrote poems, epics, ballads. His name is Adam Mickiewicz ladies and gents. Why do I think he would fit? Well, he was born in Poland that didn't actually exist and people were fighting for its freedom. So fight was already in his blood which he later on proved by becoming a commander in a battle. He was in a lot of conspiracy groups. And because of that I feel like fitting in BSD is just a matter of what kind of organization is he going to be in. He even had contact and made friends with Russian Decemberists, made enemies with Pushkin (who already is in BSD). If Adam would be in BSD I believe he'd have contact with the Rats before they fled to Japan. And because of his conspiracy origins I say he spied on the Rats from within. As for his ability I believe it would be some fighting type one as real life Adam took part in battles. I wanted to give him an ability that has something to do with his play "Dziady" but I haven't really decided yet.

Favourite Scene(s)?

Anime

Dazai floating in river; Dazai nullifying Atsushi's ability; Chuuya's reveal; Atsushi and Akutagawa fighting Fitzgerald; Atsushi hugging Kyouka; Any scene with Oda; Any scene with 15 year old Chuuya and Osamu except for the hand holding one; Fyodor killing Karma, (I'm so sorry)

Manga

Chuuya shooting bullets using gravity; Tachihara's reveal; Yosano's backstory; Mori and Fukuzawa's fight; Fukuzawa and Fukuchi scene; Any Tecchou scene; Hunting Dogs being chaotic; Chuuya getting tired and punching everyone; Dazai getting shot; Edgar getting scared by his ringtone; Dazai and Fyodor in a chess duel; Any Sigma scene.

(Translation by Dazaiscans of course.)

Favourite Quotes from the Authors/Characters?

(Thank Gods there's bsd-bibliophile~ Great help!)

Mine has been a life of much shame.

- Dazai Osamu, No Longer Human

To love someone is to put your life on the line. I don't take it lightly.

- Dazai Osamu, "Female" from Self Portraits

Bad people are to be found everywhere, but even among the worst there may be something good.

- Fyodor Dostoyevsky (Фёдор Достоевский), The House of the Dead

It is better to be unhappy and know the worst, than to be happy in a fool's paradise.

- Fyodor Dostoyevsky (Фёдор Достоевский), The Idiot

A fool with a heart and no sense is just as unhappy as a fool with sense and no heart.

- Fyodor Dostoyevsky (Фёдор Достоевский), The Idiot

(I'm currently reading Dostoyevsky in my literature class sooo)

Life is worth living as long as there's a laugh in it.

- L. M. Montgomery, Anne of Green Gables

Because when you are imagining, you might as well imagine something worth while.

- L. M. Montgomery, Anne of Green Gables

People laugh at me because I use big words. But if you have big ideas, you have to use big words to express them, haven't you?

- L. M. Montgomery, Anne of Green Gables

(One of my favorite books ever)

That threw me for a loop...is that my ringtone?

- Edgar Allan Poe getting scared by his ringtone, Chapter 55

(I had to)

Certainly, people are sinfully stupid. But what's so wrong about that?

- Dazai Osamu, Chapter 46

(Can I wait till Friday for that? I'll try)

Who would you want to bring to life to be your best friend? Waifu/Husbando?

There are a lot but I'm gonna go classic and say Chuuya. I'd love to make fun of him for being shorter than me and watch him go berserk. Like I said, I'm a villain at heart. I love him tons though! Dazai is also a pick as he's already very similar to my best friend. I have weird friends.

How has Bungou Stray Dogs changed you as a person? Did you learn anything from it?

I learned that I strive to write as good as Asagiri-sensei because his writing is amazing in my opinion. BSD also introduced me to a ton of Japanese authors as it's the case with most of its watchers. And even though I don't have a lot of time to read their books now (school and grade chasing as I only have 3 weeks to improve them), I'm going to read EVERYTHING I CAN during summer vacations. Good luck to me~

[askmissthunder]

I thought it went great, especially since it was my first time throwing this type of party!

Eli arrived early to give me a hand tidying up, mainly with vacuuming and dusting. It had been a while since I had new guests over and the last thing I wanted them to think was I lived in a pig sty. Cassie would've helped too, but she was busy rounding up the girls since none of them knew where I lived.

Talon arrived early as well in the only way she could: up the fire escape and outside my balcony. Eli and I nearly leaped out of our skins when she knocked on the glass door.

"You know I have a front door, right?", I asked, letting her in.

"Yes but too many people would know I was coming into your building.  They might ask questions."

"Sure, because climbing up the side of the building is so inconspicuous."

I saw that despite Talon's glum attitude, she was already dressed for the occasion, wearing a Slayer T-shirt with torn off sleeves and dark flannel pajama pants.

Seeing her sleeping clothes only reminded me that Cassie's friends would have to be subjected to seeing me in my sleeping clothes.  And by "sleeping clothes", I mean some of my Nan's old Circus Fat Lady costumes and let's just say that Nan wasn't afraid to show off some skin back in the day.

As I finished putting up some snack trays (lots of Halloween sweets and frosted pumpkin biscuits), I heard Eli give a loud sniff.

"What do you smell, luv?", I asked with a smile.

*Sniff!*

"Lots of hair products..."

*Sniff sniff!*

"Nail polish and old socks..."

*SNIFF*

"Mmm! Candy apples! Penny, the girls are here!"

"Yippee.", Talon said monotonously, setting up her sleeping bag on the floor.

Not even a minute later, my flat's intercom buzzed.

I trotted over by the front door to answer, "Hello?"

Cassie's voice crackled through, "Hey, girl! We're all here!"

"Fantastic! Come on up, then!"

I turned towards Eli, "Wow, luv! You smelled them all the way at the bottom floor!"

Eli leaned back against the wall, smiling smugly, "Well, when you got a nose like mine..."

I pinched his cheek playfully as I remembered I had to play the part of huge fat girl with very limited mobility and took my spot on the couch.

It wasn't long before there was a rapping at my chamber door.  Eli, ever the dutiful boyfriend, opened it with a theatrical bow. "Enter! If you dare...", he said in a mock Vincent Price voice.

In the doorway, stood Cassie and the Dance Squad. "HEEEEY!", they all shouted in unison as they marched in, all of them carrying duffel bags, pillows, and blankets.

"Hello, hello, girls!", I greeted, waving excitedly.

"Wow, Penny!", Karen exclaimed, spinning around, "You got such a big place!"

I chuckled, gesturing to my body "Well, it has to accommodate all of this, you know?"

"Ah didn't know what food y'all might have but Ah brought some caramel apples straight from home!", Amanda stated, holding up a tray filled with the scrumptious delights. I looked at Eli who gave me a knowing wink.

"Damn, girl! These are all yours?", Tamika asked, pointing at the boxes and stacks of vinyl records, cassettes, and CDs I had in the corner of my living room next to my stereo. It was hard to miss.

"I told you Penny's a music buff!", Cassie said while dropping her gym bag, claiming the spot. "Go ahead! Ask her anything about music!"

"Okay, what year did....oh, the Thiller album come out?", Stacey questioned.

I grinned, "1982."

"Pssh! I could've told you that!", Lailani stated, "Let me try."

She looked through my vinyl selection and gave a sly smile. "Penny, in the Indigo Girls album, Strange Fire, what is the sixth track?"

"Ah, that's a trick question. In the original Canadian release, it was 'Hey Jesus' but I have the American re-release, so Track 6 is 'Get Together', a cover originally by the Youngbloods."

The girls all "Oooooh"ed at that.

Deb stepped up, "All right, all right, I got one!"

She cleared her throat and sang, "Dah! Dah dah! Dah dah dah dah dah dah! Dah! Dah dah! Dah dah dah dah dah dah dah!"

"Serenade No. 13 in G Major, more commonly known as Eine kleine Nachtmusik by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart."

Deb threw her arms up, "Damn! And I just watched Amadeus last week! I give, Penny. Cassie wasn't just bullshitting us as usual."

"Oh, hush!", Cassie snapped back, "I would never joke about Penny's music knowledge! And what the hell do you mean 'as usual', Miss 'there are alligators in the sewers' ?!"

"There are alligators! Just not in Ocean City! They only live in New York, you yutz!"

They both stuck their tongues out at each other for a moment before going into a giggle fit.

Stacey rolled her eyes, "Don't mind them. Not a day goes by without Deb antagonizing somebody."

Cassie gathered her composure and clapped her hands authoritatively to the dance squad, "All right, ladies! Pick out a spot! Get comfy while I'll go ahead and get those pizza pies ordered! Four of everything, right?"

"No anchovies!", Amanda spoke up.

"Yes, and for the love of God, no pineapple.", Tamika added.

"Aww!", Karen whined, "I like pineapple. And pickles. And asparagus. And Froot Loops."

"I'll get one pineapple pizza for you, Kare.", Cassie said comfortingly, "But only one."

"Yay!"

If nothing else, the party was a good excuse to get the know Cassie's friends better, especially since we would be waiting a while for our rather large pizza order to arrive. Mainly things like Cassie has been friends with Joanie, Tamika, and Stacey since their primary school days while Amanda, Karen, Deb and Lailani have only joined their circle in college.

Joanie, who you may remember made my Belle costume last year, is a Fashion major, hoping to make it big in the New York fashion scene. If my costume was evidence of her hard work and dedication to the craft, I suspect we might be seeing models sporting her designs in the near future.

Tamika is one of Cassie's oldest friends as both of their Mums were in the same theater company so they practically grew up together. Like Cassie, she's also extremely passionate about dancing. While her main goal is to become the next big Broadway star, she also want to open up her own dance studio.  

Stacey, Cassie claims, is the "Team Mom", always looking out for the others whenever they go out or making goals for them to accomplish with their dancing. It's not that much of a surprise, considering she's a All-A student with a 4.0 GPA who's also part of the debate team and has a job on the side as a babysitter.

Amanda, as her accent might have revealed, is a country girl straight from Kentucky. Her family owns a dairy farm and a small orchard so she's not afraid to get her hands dirty.  She's has that nice southern hospitality but she can get pretty rowdy as well, seeing how she nearly punched one of my bullies, Bianca, after she insulted Tamika. I asked her why she would come all the way to Ocean City for college. She responded, " 'Cause of the ocean, of course! We got lakes and rivers in Kentucky but Ah've never seen the ocean before! Ah figured Ah could use a change of scenery for my schoolin'. "

Deb is a New Yorker, through and through. She's loud, she can be abrasive and she's definitely not afraid to tell it like it is. (Except for volume, not too different from Talon but don't tell her I said that!) While she does have a habit of teasing the other girls for shits and giggles, at the end of the day, she's a loyal friend who's always got your back whether it be help for a complicated dance technique or lending a hand with changing a flat tire.  

Lailani immigrated from the Philippines with her family when she was just a baby. While she's a gifted dancer, having trained in ballet since she was little, I was surprised to learn she's a talented magician as well! Poor Eli, having no experience with slight-of-hand, was beside himself as her card tricks baffled him to no end.  

Karen is...odd, to put it kindly. She seems to space out constantly and blurt out whatever pops in her hear at the moment. "Hey, do you know horned lizards shoot out blood from their eyes as a defense mechanism? That'd be cool to do, just like 'Hey, get away!' and go 'squirt'! Heh heh!"  Deb tells me Karen is like this due to her parents being former hippies and might have conceived her while tripping on acid or so she claims.

Cassie had told the girls that this was my first slumber party so they were all eager to give me the "classic" slumber party experience.  Makeovers, games, talking about boys (or girls), the works.  As I promised, I made sure the girls didn't bother Talon, who only gave a piercing glare at they pulled out their makeup kits.

While the girls partnered up, Eli decided to give Talon some company by playing Street Fighter II on my Genesis.  Cassie browsed through my music library to play some mood music as a flurry of eyeliners, lipsticks and nail polish went wild.

I'm still not used to putting on makeup except for special or formal events, but even then it was my Mum who usually applied it. However, while trying to decide what to put on my face, Stacey only made a puzzled look.

"What's wrong?", I asked nervously, fearful that she would say no amount of makeup in the world would make me look presentable.

"Nothing. It's just...you don't really need that much makeup, Penny. You have very clear skin."

"Heh. A few years ago, my face was pretty damn spotty."

"Really? You don't have any acne scars or anything like that. What'd you do?"

Of course, I couldn't tell her that when I received my powers, it not only made me taller and fatter, it also cleared my skin and fixed my vision.

"Umm...just got committed to washing my face more thoroughly and acne cream, I guess?"

She smiled, "I'll admit I feel a bit jealous. I wish my face and skin were as nice as yours. I sweat even a teensy bit, my face practically explodes with zits."

The idea that somebody was actually envious of me, even if it was just my skin, was an alien concept to me. I gave out a snort, "Give over! I know you're not jealous of all this. What with my chipmunk cheeks and quadruple chins!"

Stacey's brow furrowed a bit, "Hey now. I wouldn't fib to you about that!"

She leaned over her shoulder and yelled to Joanie, who was busy applying facial cream to Amanda. "Joanie! Doesn't Penny have a super pretty face?"

"Oh, yeah, those big green eyes are to die for, Penny! Eli's a lucky guy!"

"Hell yeah, I am!", Eli called out, not taking his eyes off the screen.

"If you say so...", I muttered as Stacey applied very light touches of eyeliner.

It wasn't long before the intercom buzzed.

Cassie let out a loud gasp as she scrambled to her feet, "It's here!"

Pushing the button, she let out a a chipper "Y'ello?"

A man's voice came from the other side, "Yeah, I got an order of four pepperoni, four mushroom, four cheese, four Italian sausage, four Canadian bacon, four supremes, four-"

"Yes, yes! That's us! Come on up!", Cassie interrupted, practically bouncing on her feet as we could all hear her stomach give a tremendous growl.

"Cassie!", Tamika yelped, her eyes wide from surprise, "How are you still hungry?! You literally ate three foot-long hot dogs on the way over here!"

"Yeah, where the hell do you put it all?", Amanda added.

Cassie lifted up her shirt and rubbed her trim belly with the slightest hint of abs showing. "Hee hee! You girls should know by now that I got an appetite! It may be small but there's always room in my tummy!"

Everybody got up to help the poor pizza man out as he had stacks and stacks of pizza boxes to carry in.  I could only imagine what he must've thought seeing a gang of scantily clad college girls in various states of make-up, a handsome shaggy-haired boy, a tall buff girl staring daggers at him ("He might be an assassin."), and a massive blob of a girl stuck on the couch.

Then came two of the more harrowing moments of the party.

First, and as I said before, I decided to put on my "pajamas".  It was a dark blue silk two-piece outfit consisting of a tank top and shorts. I would feel a little more comfortable with it if it did a better job of covering my belly. The sad thing is this is the more conservative piece as the others tend to be more like nighties with short skirts.

With Cassie and Eli "helping" me walk to my room then back into the living room, I was certain the girls would stop and stare at this half-naked super fat girl in their midst. It certainly didn't help my mood by seeing all the girls in their sleeping clothes, mainly tank tops, crop tops and short shorts, showing off their super toned dancer bodies.

If it bothered them, they didn't show it as they happily munched on pizza and only gave friendly smiles as I plopped back down on the couch.  What shocked me most was that Karen actually got up and laid her head against my belly. I couldn't help but give a small yelp at the sensation of somebody other than Eli or Cassie touching my body.

"Ooh! You're really warm, Penny! And soft! Girls, come try this out!", she called out to the others as she nuzzled her head deeper and deeper into my blubber like an overly affectionate cat.  Stacey was about to scold her for her cheekiness but it was too late, the girls were upon me like piranha to a piece of meat.  It was...very surreal, to say the least, mostly because I was certain at least one of them would find me gross. Instead, they softly kneaded my fat, giving "oohs" and "aahs" at the sensation.

I know I probably should've told them to knock it off but as long as they weren't doing it out of malice, what was the harm?

The other harrowing moment was one I was both excited and fearful for: Talon's Halloween Movie Selection. Knowing Talon's tastes, it wasn't going to be a classic Universal Monster movie or a cheesy 50's B-Movie. As the girls' attentions was on me, they failed to notice Talon quietly going through her duffel bag and pull out a hefty stack of rental movies from the video store.

She cleared her throat to get everyone's attention. "Which one do you want to watch first?", she muttered. In her hands, she held An American Werewolf in London, Zombie, Last House on the Left, The Evil Dead, The Beyond, Intruder, The Shining and Suspiria.

I must be like a giant teddy bear to everybody as Eli took his usual spot atop my right hip, his weight sinking into my fat. The girls followed suit, laying their heads against my legs and belly. Only Talon refused to join in with the others, knowing that she doesn't like intimate contact at all.  

While most of the movies were, well, scary and shocking and disgusting and gory, Suspiria was probably the one that got under the girls' skin as it took place in a dance school. A little too close to home, that one.

"Oh God, I'd hate to fall into a pit of razor wire like that!", Lailani gulped, thinking of the grim fate of one victim.

"What if Miss Avery was a witch?!", Amanda squeaked out, thinking of their dance instructor, "Didn't she go to Germany for some convention last year?"

"Fuck me, you're right!" Deb cursed, "Is she part of a coven?!"

Karen giggled, "Maybe if we dress up as witches at practice, she won't try to kill us. She'll think 'I can't kill them! They're my fellow witches!'."

"Oh, you sweet, sweet innocent child.", Joanie said, rubbing Karen's head, "I know it was just a movie but...jeez!"

"Why did that dog attack his owner?", Eli asked sadly, "Is he okay?"

"No! He got his throat ripped out!", Tamika answered, "You don't walk away from that!"

"I was talking about the dog. Did he find a new owner?"

Sensing Eli's distress, I held his hand and gave him a peck on the cheek.   "It's all right, sweetie. I'm sure he's fine, although he may want to lay low for a while."

Looking around me, I could tell that Eli wasn't the only one stressed out. We did just watch several horror movies back to back so all the girls seemed on edge. Except Talon who was trying to fight off a losing battle against sleep, her eyes looking very droopy.

"Do you all want to watch something a little more...cheerier?", I asked, the image of the woman getting her eye stabbed out in Zombie, still fresh in my mind.

Eli, Cassie and the Girls all looked at me and solemnly nodded.

(A half hour later...)

"OH WELLA WELLA WELLA UH

TELL ME MORE, TELL ME MORE

DID YOU GET VERY FAR?

TELL ME MORE, TELL ME MORE

LIKE DOES HE HAVE A CAR?"

We all sang at the top of our lungs as we watched Grease in the wee morning hours while Talon slept on, snuggled up in her sleeping bag and ear plugs firmly in place.

Happy very, very, VERY Belated Halloween, everybody!

[smittenwithlouis]

Hello! i was just wondering, if you have any snippets of your upcoming tarzan fics? :D

Yes I do! I know its taken me so long to write this fic but hopefully this makes you somewhat excited for it? 🍌🐒🌴🦍🌳

(Please note this hasn’t been beta’d and there might be some grammatical and spelling errors).

Another night was spent with barely any sleep and it’s beginning to take its toll on Louis’ body and mind. He’s been on his own for about five days and his morale is swiftly dwindling. Louis knows he can’t go on another day like this or he will surely go insane. He’s thankful that he has Chip by his side but he needs to feel safe and get actual food in his system.

After a very heated internal debate, he decides to keep walking up the river in hopes that by the grace of God, he finds any clue as to where the hell he is. Chip spends his time clinging on to Louis’ back. He tried to play with Louis earlier in the day but Louis just wasn’t up for it all that much. After all, he’s better off saving his energy foraging for food than playing with a baby chimp.

He did take some pictures of Chip and wrote down his observations from last night. The whole sleeping on the ground thing really threw him for a small loop when he actually thought about it. Alas, he still hasn’t seen any sign of any troop of chimps and thankfully no signs of Bili apes as well.

It’s passed midday when Louis notices the tracks. They’re from a big cat and by the number of them, this is his territory. Louis’ brain tries to think of the quickest way out of the area but it seems like it’s either through the river or through the territory. Louis’ sure he’s seconds away from another mental breakdown.

He’s scared, hungry, tired, and a surrogate mother to a baby chimp. He’s way out of his league with this and all because he was stupid enough to go exploring on his own. Even after Bebe and professor Aoki told him not to. It’s honestly what he deserves.

Louis tries to keep on high alert even if his senses and motor skills are at an all time low. Chip stays relatively quiet as Louis makes his way through the heavy bushes and tries his hardest not to trip with every step.

Louis’ anxiety is quickly building as his eyes move rapidly from left to right. He makes sure to also look up into the trees, jungle cats are known for hiding there, sneak attacking their prey. He tries to keep in my mind that all these animals have zero exposure to humans and he’s not sure how they are going to react. He’s about to take a left when he sees it up on a tree.

Louis knows leopards are nocturnal and spend most of their daytime napping. So it’s no surprise when he sees it doing just that. Louis’ heart starts beating fast as he tries to slowly back away. The leopard must be in deep sleep because it hasn’t taken notice of Louis in the slightest.

He’s so slow in moving, petrified that his heart might rip out of his chest and wake up the leopard any second. Louis is sure he can take a couple more steps back before he makes a run for it. He takes two more retreating steps before every logical thought flies out the window.

Louis’ heartbeat was deafening to his ears. He didn’t hear any noise but his rabbiting heart rate. He did however, see the leopard snap his head in his direction, growling in defense. Thats when all his senses take in his surroundings and the very source of his soon to be downfall; Chip.

Chip is shrieking and oo-ing, jumping on Louis’ shoulders and honestly if Louis didn’t have a heart, he would throttle him in that split second. All Louis sees is the Leopard leap out of his tree when Louis’ survival instinct kicks in.

Mid turn, he grabs Chip from his back and brings him against his chest. He can hear the ferocious growls of the leopard as it takes chase. He feels it, feels the heavy weight of the huge spotted cat barreling against him. Louis falls down so hard the breath is knocked right out of him.

His only thought at that moment is to save Chip. Rebellious and sweet Chip, who has only known danger and terror since before he crossed paths with Louis. He knows the leopard is going to go for his neck so he tries to keep Chip cocooned and away from his sharp teeth or claws.

It only lasts seconds though, because the heavy weight of the cat is gone as soon as it was on. Louis’ head feels fuzzy but his body is filled with adrenaline and its telling him to runrunrun. That thought is quickly interrupted when Chip wiggles from underneath him and starts shrieking his little lungs out. He moves jerkily behind Louis, straight to the jaws of danger and that’s enough to snaps Louis right out of his frozen state. He turns around ready to grab the stupid chimp and run before he gets them both killed. However, the sight before him leaves him completely dumbfounded. Louis doesn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or admit he’s definitely lost his marbles.

Theres a man, a naked man growling and beating his chest in front of the leopard. The leopard is menacingly staring at the man and his eyes lock on Chip and Louis. Louis’ heart plummets to the ground when the big cat launches for them yet again. Louis lets out a blood curling scream as he falls backwards onto his ass. Chip immediately runs behind Louis with a whimpering sound but the cat doesn’t get anywhere near them. The naked man immediately intercepts the cat and knocks it into the ground.

Louis is so fucking positive he’s actually dead and this is his brain making up some fantasy story about a hot and sweaty, naked man coming to his rescue, because there’s just no fucking way this is actually happening anywhere besides his perverted mind.

His imagination sure is something though.

Louis is stunned as his eyes continue to take in the brutal scene in front of him. He keeps his eyes trailed on the behemoth of a man as he crouches down on all fours and charges towards the leopard yet again, with no ounce of fear in any of his movements. 

The cat leaps backwards and growls in warning as the man rises to his full height and pounds on his chest again, accompanied with a menacing growl of his own.

Somehow, some way, the leopard starts backing away immediately. Louis knows most leopards try to avoid humans, rather feasting on primates and small game than fully sized people. Clearly, this one thought Louis would be an easy enough kill but definitely deemed hot naked jungle man superior, not thinking another second before retreating.  

Only when the leopard is out of sight does the man fully turn towards them. Before anything can happen though Chip shrieks and oo’s as he leaps from Louis’ back and half runs and crawls towards the man.

Louis’ doesn’t know what to think. He’s stunned, out of breath, and most likely dead but his primatologist mind immediately recognizes the sounds. The love gargles as he likes to call them. It’s a specific low throaty sounds apes make when they meet or greet a family or troop member.

It all makes sense now, why it didn’t take Chip too long to accept Louis. The man and Chip are very well acquainted, Chip is hanging onto the man’s neck as he oo’s and kisses him all over. The man grunting and nuzzling Chip’s fur in return.

It’s a rather endearing sight but Louis needs to get the fuck out of here. Dead or not, he needs to find his camp or peers and leave this nightmare behind. He slowly starts shuffling backwards, cringing when there’s twigs snapping underneath his bum. He places his hands behind to try to push him along faster, slowly lifting his ass off the ground and using his legs to crawl backwards.

Deeming that method useless, he rises to his feet painstakingly slow, holding his breath until he’s completely upright, managing to move undetected until a rather big snap comes from underneath his boot. Louis cringes and closes his eyes tight, not needing to look, to know the naked man zeroed in all his attention towards him. 

Xx.

[jincherie]

opia || pt.1

✩ — pairing: Taehyung x reader ✩ — genre: cupid!au, soulmate!au, cupid!Taehyung ✩ — words: 6.7k+ ✩ — warnings: summoning of an otherworldly being, um there’s not really anything else ✩ — notes: AH here is the first part! It’s not too long because I just need to set the scene and get things started, but also it took a while because I had a massive writers block about where and how to start this??? Idk I’m mostly past it now. sidenote:|| I did wonder whether or not I should post this now, but I decided that ultimately I should. Everyone deals with grief in different ways, and I hope that for those of you seeking a distraction this can help in some way. Please remember I love and appreciate you all :)

Taehyung has been matchmaking since the dawn of time, bringing souls together with their other half and inspiring love. But as time went on the joy he gained from his job and creating happiness for the humans began to fade, a wanting and desire welling up in him with each century that passed for something more, something unattainable, something he knew he wouldn’t ever have. Taehyung knew why he didn’t have a soulmate, and why he couldn’t ever experience love as the humans did. But then, he couldn’t seem to fathom… why didn’t you?

masterlist || prologue | next  — posted; 21.12.2017

The bell of the café you often frequented chimed as you entered, the door closing gently behind you as you slipped in and made a hurried beeline for the table in the corner. There were two people already seated and they jumped in fright as you threw yourself into the booth, hands gripping the table to stop yourself from sliding too far along the seat.

“Christ, y/n!” Rosé yelped, hand coming up to clutch at her chest. She shot you a wide-eyed look. “Don’t just pop up out of nowhere like that!”

You were slightly out of breath as you sat there, pointedly ignoring her words, “Good morning to you too, sunshine.”

“Why are you dressed like you’re on the run from the government?”

Your head whipped around at the sound of your other friend’s deep voice, meeting the amused gaze of one Min Yoongi.

Admittedly, you kind of were dressed like a half-assed fugitive, but you weren’t expecting to get called out on it so soon. Begrudgingly, you took off the cap and large shades you were sporting, glaring at your mint-haired friend, “It’s my new look.”

Yoongi rolled his eyes, and tried to hide the small smile tugging his lips by taking a sudden sip of his coffee. You were glad he hadn’t probed further for the real reason you looked like some kind of truant, because honestly you’d be embarrassed to tell him.

You didn’t know whether you were going crazy or not, but it had all started a couple of weeks ago when you’d gone for a walk while waiting to pick Yoongi up from his late shift at the club. He was officially a bartender, but knew the manager well enough that he was often allowed to play his tracks and DJ on the odd occasion.

You’d arrived early, and gotten sick of waiting so had decided to go for a walk around that part of the city. It had been nice, you supposed— it was a lovely night and the river looked so much nicer when it was glimmering with the reflection of the city lights. You’d reached a courtyard, one you’d often come to with Yoongi and sometimes Rosé to have lunch, and stopped to admire the serenity of the scene at night. That was when you’d caught sight of him.

He had been absolutely stunning, almost ethereal as he entered the courtyard from your left with such a raw, powerfully magnetic aura you couldn’t do anything but stare on in awe. Everything about him drew you to him, and you couldn’t bring your gaze to part from his form. He almost seemed to glow in the dim light, and there was something about him that almost seemed to shimmer before your very eyes, like you were gazing upon a mirage instead of another human being.

You’d watched, unable to shift your gaze, as he strode forward, each step confident and assured, and stopped at the top of the stairs that marked the true entrance into the courtyard. For a moment he stood still, gaze falling on the opposite side of the courtyard, before suddenly he moved. You blinked, and it was only then you saw the intricate, carved bow in his hands. Through the foggy mixture of awe and curiosity sitting over your mind like fine mist, there was a distant pang of alarm. He had a bow.

This time when he moved you didn’t blink, and you saw as he lifted his hands and arrows— golden, with tips dipped in crimson—seemed to almost materialise in his grasp. The breath that had left you at the sight of him suddenly caught in your throat, alarm blaring like a foghorn in your mind and clearing the mist that had settled over your thoughts. A slight sense of panic welled in your chest as you watched, still unable to shift your gaze, as he nocked the arrows and drew—

A sharp gasp had torn from your throat as the arrows flew through the air and you were finally able to tear your gaze from the man to watch them, just in time to see them hit the chests of two women across the courtyard and disintegrate into fine crimson glitter upon impact. Shock, confusion, fear— you were drowning in a peculiar cocktail of it all as your gaze flew back to the man at the top of the stairs— but was he really just a man?

You had been rooted to the spot, mind urging you to run, to get away because this was new and scary and you had no idea how to respond to it, at all. Just as you’d found the will to move your leaden legs, the man shifted, head turning, and his gaze caught yours, and all at once you felt as though you’d been shocked. His eyes widened and electricity fizzled down your spine, the hairs on the back of your neck raising sharply. You stood there for a moment, frozen and locked in this man’s magnetic gaze, before finally your brain kicked back into gear and you regained control of your limbs.

You’d turned on your heel and ran. You hadn’t glanced back, but a glimpse as you turned told you he had remained where he stood, looking every bit as frozen as you’d felt just before.

Of course, after that, ‘confused’ hadn’t been enough to describe and properly articulate what you were feeling. You’d just seen a man, a beautiful man with the face and body of a greek god, materialise a bow and arrow out of thin air and shoot two women with it— except, when it hit them, it hadn’t pierced them. It had burst into a shower of crimson glitter upon contact and they looked like they hadn’t even realised. You didn’t know what aspect of the situation threw you for a loop the most.

That night had been alarming, but you would have been able to easily dismiss it as perhaps a fever dream, or a figment of your imagination. It wasn’t enough to have you sneaking around in broad daylight and dressing, as Yoongi had ever-so-flatteringly put it, like you were “on the run from the government”.

You would have been able to dismiss it, except that wasn’t the last time you saw the man with the magnetic aura and dangerous eyes. Ever since then, you’d been running into him by chance, catching sight of him from across the street, glimpsing him in malls and on the train. Perhaps you wouldn’t worry so much if each and every time his head didn’t whip around and he didn’t catch sight of you, too.

Despite the shock you’d always see on his face, you were… paranoid. Was he following you? Did you really see something you weren’t meant to see? What did you see? He’d always start, and move as though to come towards you, but you were quicker. If anything at this point you’d call yourself an escape artist. By the time he’d catch sight of you and it would register that he’d seen you, you were already well on your way out of there.

So, you’d resorted to this— a half-hearted disguise, in case he really was following you. Although, you admitted, it was pretty weak as far as disguises went. Just a cap and large sunglasses, and maybe a hoodie if the weather permitted it. You really needed to work a bit harder on it.

“Anyway, as I was saying before y/n showed up and nearly killed me,” Rosé sent you a mock-glare, and you responded with a shrug and a cheeky smile. “You guys remember how I applied at that company the other day, for the stylist position?”

You nodded, reaching for her drink and taking a sip before she noticed, “I don’t know why you didn’t just apply to be a trainee— your voice is lovely, Rosé, and you’re gorgeous.”

The raven-haired female smacked you on the arm, a pretty blush rising to her cheeks. “Shut up! And thank you, but I don’t think that’s the life for me.”

You shrugged, taking another sip as Yoongi spoke up, “You were saying? You applied at the company as a stylist?”

Rosé spun, beaming so brightly you wondered if everyone else felt like they were looking at the sun when they saw it too. “I got the job!” she burst, hands raising in excitement. “They called me this morning!”

You grinned, poking her arm. “That’s amazing, Rosie! I’m so proud of you!”

The girl beside you grinned so brightly she almost glowed, her voice high and coloured with excitement as she spoke, “Thanks, y/n! Oh, and guess what!”

You didn’t even have a chance to open your mouth and attempt to guess before she was excitedly gushing the answer, “I managed to get you a job too! They said they were looking for someone to work as an assistant for one of their models and asked if I knew anyone that would be interested, so I told them about you and after hearing it they were pretty much sold! They gave me this to give to you— you have a meeting with them at 10AM on Friday to sort out all the details!”

You could only blink in shock as she finished with a squeal, taking your hands in hers and moving about. Distantly, you heard Yoongi snickering at what was no doubt a dumbfounded expression on your face.

“Isn’t this great, y/n?” Rosé crowed, warm brown eyes glimmering with happiness at the fact that she’d done something to help her best friend. “You won’t have to struggle with interviews and placements anymore!”

The significance of what she was saying finally caught up to you. Belatedly, a gasp tore from your throat that had Yoongi laughing louder. “You got me a job!”

Rosé nodded, and you abruptly launched yourself at her, bringing her into your arms and making dramatic wailing noises. “Rosie! You got me a job! God, I love you!”

She giggled, her own slim arms coming to wrap around you, a hand patting your back. “I know you do, and you’re welcome.” She pulled back, her hands finding your shoulders as he expression grew solemn and she stared you down. “I’m the one that recommended you, so don’t screw this up or they’ll be on my ass.”

You gave a light snort, rolling your yes playfully but you nodded nonetheless. “Please, Rosie, I’m an angel.”

Yoongi snorted and you decided to be the better person and ignore him. That is, until he opened his mouth, “I, and many other people you know, would beg to differ.”

“Shut up Min Yoongles,” you retorted, nailing him with a half-hearted dirty look. “You wouldn’t know an angel if it flew over and smacked you in the face.”

The mint-haired male shot you a smile that you could only describe as knowing before he hid it once more by taking a prompt sip of his coffee. Suddenly perplexed as to why Yoongi had adopted a look like he knew something you didn’t, you opened your mouth to grill him about it when the sound of Rosé’s soft laughter greeted your ears.

“Ah, it’s good to know no matter how long we go without seeing you you’ll never change,” she hummed, looping her arm through yours. She straightened suddenly, turning to you with wide eyes. “Oh right! Don’t forget y/n, the three of us have a date tonight!”

At your look of confusion she gasped, affronted, and Yoongi snickered. His deep tone reached your ears, voice playful, “Don’t tell me you forgot, y/n.”

You made a face at him and Rosé groaned. She smacked your arm, eliciting a sharp yelp from you as she spoke, “y/n, you idiot, tonight is the night Yoongi has a gig at that high-end club in the city. We said we were going to go there and support him…?”

Recognition sparked somewhere in the back of your mind as you remembered. You felt a little guilty for forgetting, especially since it was pretty significant— this would be the first time Yoongi was performing somewhere that wasn’t his own workplace. Yet, at the same time…

You narrowed your eyes at the raven-haired girl by your side. “Support him? You mean you’re going there to prowl for some fresh di—”

“y/n!” Rosé yelped, cheeks flushing sheepishly as she whipped her head around to make sure no one in the café heard you.

“—all the while leaving me alone and awkward at the bar to drink my sorrows away?” you finished, raising an eyebrow at her.

Yoongi laughed, nearly choking on his drink, at the borderline mortified look on your friend’s face. “Listen, just because both of you are literal hermits,” Rosé hissed, pinning you both with a dirty look. You tried not to laugh, you really did. “Doesn’t mean I can’t go out and enjoy myself if I want. And you know what? It’s true, the crowd at the other place is getting old—”

A strangled noise escaped you as you tried not to burst into laughter. Yoongi grinned at the bristling raven-haired girl, “You really mean there’s no dick there you haven’t already tried—OW!”

Rosé threw the spoon by her hand at him and it made a satisfying noise as it connected with his forehead. The action made you break, laughter tumbling from your lips. Rosé reached and picked up the spoon from where it landed on the table after bouncing off Yoongi’s forehead and proceeded to hit you with it, crying out, “Shut up! Oh my god I hate you both!”

Eventually your laughter calmed down and Rosé’s violent spell dispersed, and your little weekly get-together proceeded as it usually would, the three of you filling each other in on the latest gossip you’d gathered over the past seven days since you’d gotten together last. You saw each other briefly before now, of course, but it was almost a ritual that you would gather of a Monday morning and cleanse yourselves with some good bitching and impromptu therapy for the week ahead. Usually, you left feeling lighter than ever after spilling your guts, but today… today you left feeling just as troubled as you did walking in.

You hadn’t mustered the courage to tell your best friends about what had been bothering you, the irrational fear of them labelling you as crazy inhibiting you from allowing all your fears and worries to gush forth. You knew, of course, they’d never judge you, they’d support you, and yet… you hadn’t been able to force the words from where they sat at the tip of your tongue.

Perhaps there was a reason, you pondered. Maybe you were making the whole thing out to be a bigger deal than it really was. Maybe, subconsciously, you knew it would be a ridiculous thing to confess to your friends— that you’d seen someone in the dead of night shoot two women with a bow and arrows made of gold that exploded into a shimmering show of glitter, and that ever since then you’d been seeing him everywhere you went. It had been late at night, you’d been tired, and pretty stressed lately—perhaps it was all a hallucination? A vivid dream conjured by your imagination that seeped a little too much into reality?

For the sake of your own sanity as you exited the café and went on your way to complete your errands for the day, you decided to dismiss it as just that. You didn’t want to be running around in the shadows anymore, paranoid every time you turned a corner that the man from that night would be there. It was a dream, you affirmed. It had to be— especially since no one on this earth could possibly be as beautiful in real life as that man had been.

x     x     x     x     x     x     x

With a certain amount of flair that only he could possess, Taehyung threw the final ingredient into the carved, deep bowl on a stand before him and snapped his fingers. At once the contents were set alight and flames, cerulean and white, licked at the gleaming precious metal of the bowl while the ingredients— petals, leaves, a coin, a small piece of parchment— burned to ashes. The flame remained strong in the bowl, and Taehyung whispered the name of the being he wished to summon in a low baritone that echoed eerily off the walls with the power thrumming through his veins. His eyes slid closed as he waited for the tell-tale sound of their arrival.

There was a flutter, air rushing against him like a gentle breeze that caused the flame in the bowl to flicker and sway, and a loud curse filled the air, “Shit, Taehyung, again?”

The male in question turned on his heel, a bright smile pulling shapely lips. “Jiminie!” he beamed, pleasant chocolate orbs swirling as he greeted the disgruntled figure standing by the window. “You came!”

It was a male of short yet powerful stature, eyes dark and warm as they swept over the room before falling over Taehyung. He folded his arms and tilted his head, windswept raven locks falling over his forehead as he pinned the younger with a pointed look. He licked his plump, pink lips before he spoke, voice light and melodic as it graced the air, “Well, yeah. You summoned me, dumbass.”

Taehyung grinned, waving his hand in a sweeping gesture so that the blue flames still licking at the bowl beside him flickered and went out completely. No longer bound, the shorter male’s form visibly relaxed. “That’s true, but you can always resist the call.”

Jimin stepped forward, rolling his eyes, but his expression softened slightly as his dark gaze moved to meet that of the younger. “Whatever, Tae. Is there a reason you called me this time, or are you interrupting my day for fun again?”

Taehyung’s eyes widened innocently, large hand pressing to his chest in mock offense. “Of course there is a reason! I need you to do something for me.”

The male sighed, snapping his fingers and falling back onto the lavish couch that appeared behind him, bringing the cocktail that appeared in his hand to his mouth for a resigned sip, striped straw pressing between plush lips. “Of course you do. What is it this time, brother?”

The ashen-haired male shifted, resting his hip against the desk and sending the older male a look that bordered on pleading. “I need you to find out information on someone for me.”

A dark brow rose, surprise filtering over his pleasant features. “Information on someone? A human?”

Taehyung nodded, arms folding over his chest as he mentally prepared himself should his brother choose to tease him with the material he’d just given him. To his surprise, the raven-haired male just shrugged, letting out a soft ‘huh’ as he sent him a curious look.

“Why do you need information on a human?” he queried, dark eyes sparkling with something akin to mischief as he pinned the other with a playful look. “Don’t tell me you’ve gotten into trouble with someone in the human world again.”

Shaking his head frivolously, Taehyung brought his hands together, pleasant chocolate eyes pleading. “I didn’t! Please, Jiminie, can you do this for me? There’s something I need to figure out.”

Jimin shot him an odd look, but let out a sigh nonetheless, taking another resigned sip of his drink. “Fine, I’ll see what I can find. Who is this human I’m looking for, what’s their name?”

The ashen-haired male beamed gratefully at him, “Thanks, Jimin-ah!” he grinned, before a sheepish expression washed over his pleasant features. “And, uh, well… it’s a girl. Um…”

When he didn’t continue further, a look that was a curious cross between knowing and disbelief graced Jimin’s face as he sputtered on his drink. “You called me here to find information on someone and you don’t even know their name?” he scoffed lightly, eyes slightly scolding as they met Taehyung’s own. “I’m no miracle worker, Taehyung. We both know that’s not one of my responsibilities.”

Jimin’s expression soured as his thoughts turned to the person in question, muttering something along the lines of, “If that brat doesn’t call me back soon it’ll be a miracle he doesn’t get his ass beat” under his breath. Taehyung fought a smile, hoping their brother was smart enough to respond to Jimin before he came after him and tore him a new one for ignoring him.

He didn’t speak, instead sending the older male a pleading look, begging him with wide eyes. Jimin sighed, acquiescing not for the first time to those puppy eyes he was so susceptible to. “Fine! Just, give me something to go off— what does she look like? What bonds did she have? What did her soul feel like?”

Taehyung’s grin fell at the first two questions, “I, uh… I didn’t see.”

Jimin gaped, looking ready to pop a blood vessel. “You didn’t see her bonds? Taehyung, how could you not see the strings stemming from her very being— that’s one of your gifts!”

A hand came up to rub the back of his neck as he offered a sheepish look. “I was looking, but she was gone so quick I didn’t have time to see them,” he said, words rushing. “But I kind of remember how she looked.”

Jimin took a large sip of his drink, swirling the contents in the glass to soothe the nerves thrumming with frustration. “Oh, good. What did she look like, then?”

Taehyung shifted his weight from one foot to the other. The sheer look of relief in his brother’s eyes almost made him regret what he was going to answer with. “…Beautiful,” he mumbled, moving his gaze aside so he wouldn’t see the drop in the raven-haired male’s face.

“Taehyung,” Jimin said seriously, glaring at him. “I’m going to murder you if you ever make me do something like this again. Is there nothing you can give me that will actually help? There are literally thousands of humans in this city!”

The younger offered an apologetic look, before closing his eyes and trying to remember what he could. “Her soul… it was warm, and strong— it’s not like any human soul I’ve ever seen before. I could feel it from across the courtyard; it was like it was pulling me towards her.” He opened his eyes, giving Jimin the rest of the information he could, “It was very bright, every time I’ve glimpsed her since then she has stood out from those around her. She’s quick though, always gone before I can commit it to memory and get a good enough read to be able to find her myself.”

“I see her most on the other side of town,” he added thoughtfully after a moment. “She must live in the southern suburbs.”

When he returned his gaze to his brother, he looked perplexed, but curiosity had sparked in his dark eyes. “Huh,” was all the response he got, the older gazing at him intensely for a moment longer before he stood promptly. Taehyung’s eyes followed him as he waved the lounge away and moved back over to the open window, drink still in hand.

“Well, now that I have the tiniest bit of something to go off, rather than nothing at all, I shall be off. Don’t summon me for a while,” he said, delivering the younger with a pointed look. “If you summon me before I’m ready I will beat you up— and if you see that brat, tell him to respond to me or I’ll beat him up too.”

Taehyung nodded, holding his hands up to show his cooperation. He offered a bright beam, “Thanks again, Jiminie.”

Jimin grumbled, raven hair shifting in the soft breeze from the window, “Yeah, whatever. Don’t thank me yet.”

Then Taehyung blinked and he was gone with a flutter and soft gush of wind, sunlight filtering through the open window and bathing the floor golden where he’d just stood. He allowed himself a soft chuckle now that it was safe to do so without the danger of Jimin throttling him, and began packing the carved bowl and its contents away neatly in the cupboard by his desk. He brought a key from his pocket and locked it, mind still on the contents of the conversation he’d just had.

He had been worried Jimin wouldn’t help him—his brother was in a position where he could easily find out anything he wanted about any one human, but with the amount of information Taehyung had—or rather the amount he didn’t have— even for him it would no doubt be a difficult task. He bit his lip as his thoughts went back further, to the reason he’d summoned his brother in the first place.

That girl… Taehyung hadn’t been entirely honest when he’d been speaking to Jimin. When he first saw her that night in the courtyard, he had glimpsed her with his Sight, and he had seen her bonds. But something perplexed him still, something he didn’t want to admit to Jimin yet because he himself didn’t understand it.

From her heart that girl had many rosy strings, something that signified healthy friendships, and several thicker strings of the same colour, something that signified healthy close friendships. These weren’t unusual— almost every human had friends, acquaintances and friends that were so close they were almost like family, just as every human had a soulmate. But when he had glimpsed at this girl, something had been missing, something that by no means possible should have been absent.

When he’d looked at this girl, there had been no telling, faint cord, realised or otherwise, that he was so used to seeing. There had been nothing. What he didn’t think was ever possible, was suddenly standing right in front of him.

When he’d looked at this girl, he hadn’t seen the string of a soulmate.

And Taehyung wanted to know why.

x     x     x     x     x     x     x

The booming bass of one of Yoongi’s harder tracks reverberated off the walls of the club and through your very being, the air thick and heady with the scent and sweat and lust. Already you felt hotter than you had before, your form-fitting clothes sticking that bit closer to your skin, the hair brushing your neck creating a pocket of warmth against your flesh. The dimness of the large room was broken by the globes that cast harsh, saturated colours across the dancefloor, the areas they didn’t touch lit in a violet glow. Already you were noticing just how starkly different this club was to the one you usually frequented to see Yoongi, expensive entry fee aside.

You’d wormed through the sweaty, mingling forms to reach the bar on the other side of the room as soon as you’d entered, Rosé hot on your tail, but the second your ass touched the seat she was off— just like you’d predicted. You didn’t really mind that much, but you weren’t looking forward to cleaning up the mess your best friend tended to become after nights like these spent with the wrong men. It was her choice, you couldn’t stop her, but sometimes you wished she didn’t keep walking back into the same scenario over and over again.

Yoongi had already been playing for an hour or so before you got there with Rosé, and from what you could tell the crowd was loving it. You could see him from where you were situated at the bar, and your chest swelled with pride as you watched him bounce with the beat, a gummy grin shifting his features. The night was going well for him and you couldn’t be any happier.

After deciding earlier in the day not to worry about the ‘problem’ that had been plaguing you all week, you felt lighter, like a great weight had been lifted from your shoulders. You wondered why you even got so worked up in the first place— did you really think you’d been seeing the man from your dream all over the place? You hadn’t so much as glimpsed him all day, only further cementing your suspicion that you’d been overly paranoid about the whole thing this whole time. You weren’t worried anymore, in fact you’d been on top of the world for the rest of the day, and had been looking forward to coming here as a sort of celebration for liberation from your own paranoia. Anticipation swirled in your gut, a prominent feeling that something good was going to happen tonight, something important. While you tried not to pay it too much mind, it definitely contributed to your current disposition.

However, as much as you rejoiced the good feelings running your mood right now, there was still a part of you that wondered— if it was just a dream, then why did you remember it so vividly? How was it you remembered his features so precisely that you thought you recognised him on the street? Even as you sat there, sipping the sweet drink in your hand, there was a part of you that feared maybe you had been right to be paranoid, and that any second now you were going to glimpse the beautiful man again.

It was a part that, with the aid of the drink in your grasp and the thrumming atmosphere around you, was easily snuffed out. You weren’t here to worry, you were here to enjoy yourself— even if that meant sitting to the side and watching your own friends have fun instead of you. If they were happy, then you were happy.

Hours passed with ease, and by the time it was nearing the end of Yoongi’s gig you’d downed perhaps one too many colourful drinks yet somehow managed to remain surprisingly sober— although your gross motor skills might beg to differ. You’d received a text from Rosé not too long ago to meet her at the door in fifteen minutes, and you decided in the meanwhile to enjoy the remaining time you had since you probably wouldn’t be going out like this again for a while. The feeling in your tummy had remained throughout the night, only seeming to grow stronger as time wore on. You ignored it.

Sipping the most recent drink you’d ordered—a deliciously sweet, swirling rosy cocktail that tasted like raspberry and vanilla on your tongue— you gazed over to the remaining large mass of bodies shifting and moving over the dancefloor, before your gaze moved over the rest of the establishment. You’d taken it in before, but it still awed you to an extent. Large, glittering orbs hung from the sweeping, high ceiling, and the already large room was skirted further by a second-story balcony that lead to more highly-coveted parts of the club beyond your sight. You allowed your gaze to flicker over the faces you could see with a mild sense of curiosity, a thought brushing the back of your mind as an idle reminder that you’d have to move soon.

Your eyes swept over the people mingling on the top balcony, only straying to glimpse at the glass ornaments that reflected the strobe lights and glimmered, shaking with the bass of the beat as it boomed through the speakers. Your gaze quickly returned to the people on the balconies, and you resumed your observation when you froze. Your heart skipped several beats, your blood freezing in your veins as recognition swept over you and caught your breath in your throat.

No, your mind, sluggish with intoxication, suddenly kicked into motion. It’s not possible, it isn’t him.

The man that had caused a cold flush of fear to wash over your body stood on the balcony furthest from the door. His tall form, fitted in a silken silver shirt and black slacks that accentuated his long legs and broad shoulders, leant enticingly against the metal railing. His back was to you, attention captured by the beautiful brunette before him, his ashen hair glowing multicolour beneath the strobing lights. The sight of him sent a jolt down your spine, a funny feeling shooting from your heart to mix with the sensation that had been present in your stomach all night. You fought the slight fear rising within you, the instinctive reaction that had taken a hold of you at the sudden stimulus and reaction, and tried to reason with yourself. You’d come to terms with the fact the whole thing had been a dream just today— this was a wild coincidence, someone who looked eerily like him. You hadn’t even seen his face, there was absolutely no way it could be—

Before you could even finish that train of thought the male beneath your gaze jolted, spine stiffening, and he turned. Your denial died in your throat as the very eyes that had fallen upon you that night now kept you trapped in their dark, magnetising gaze once more. You watched as shock spread across his face, a familiar sight by this point, and all at once you were suddenly aware you were in the same building as the man you’d been running from this entire time. You couldn’t tear your eyes away, but your mind was urging you to run once more, just as it had when you’d seen him draw his bow and fire at two women right before you.

Without thinking, your eyes flickered to the door where it stood on the other side of the mingling mass of people on the dancefloor, and when you looked back and realised your mistake it was too late. A look of realisation overcame his beautiful features and you knew then if you didn’t bolt now then this time he would most certainly catch you before you could get away. You wrenched yourself from your seat, and before you tore your eyes from his alluring form you saw him jolt, something that sent a spike of alarm down your spine.

You darted towards the crowd on the dancefloor, eyes trying to find the easiest path through as you weaved in and out of dancing forms oblivious to your current situation and panic. You wanted to push them aside, almost desperate to make it to the door, but amongst the blaring music and shifting bodies you could hardly make a path for yourself. Somehow in your journey for the front of the establishment, you’d been jostled and bumped, guided to the side of the dancefloor— closer to where you wanted to be yet so far away. You were closer to the corner of the room than you were to the open dancefloor and where you needed to be. Panicked, you knew you were running out of time as you moved to dart back towards the door before a voice reached your ears through the heavy, booming bass and froze you in your tracks.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

It was a smooth baritone, a tone so deep and powerful, so utterly commanding of attention you could hear it clearly through the music, as though it was being whispered right against your ear. Your body spun, like it was acting on a will of its own, and your breath caught in your throat at the sight of the man you’d been running from suddenly so close, so magnetic and so absolutely breathtaking before your very eyes. Your thoughts ceased as he stepped closer and through the intoxicated haze sitting like fine mist over your mind, you registered the peculiar scent of ylang-ylang, caramel, and something inexplicably warm that sent a shiver down your spine and a spike of exhilaration to join the swirling cocktail of emotion in the pit of your stomach.

You could hardly force the words you wanted to say from your mouth, could hardly think. Your tone shook as the words fell from your mouth unwittingly, “It’s y-you.”

He was beautiful, strikingly so and in a sense that you could hardly describe the sight of him as anything but ethereal. His eyes, warm and doe-like and framed by long lashes, held your gaze with such intensity and drew you in with such ease that you could feel your cheeks heating. He smiled, shapely lips curving into a smile that was decidedly sinful.

“Yes, me. You’ve been doing a good job of running away up until now, haven’t you?” he murmured, eyes keeping you trapped in place as he stepped forward. Something in you called for him, urged you to reach and touch him, and it terrified you. “But now that I finally have you here, there are some things I want to know.”

You couldn’t speak, could hardly breathe as he raised a hand and his fingertips brushed against your cheek in the softest, most tantalising of touches. A jolt of electricity sparked down your spine, setting your skin alight, and your senses returned to you all at once. You jerked back, taking two firm steps away but unable to make yourself take any more— he still held you in his gaze, after all.

Words gushed forth before you could stop them, a defence mechanism to compensate for how helpless you felt. “I don’t think I’m obliged to tell the person I saw shooting people with a bow and arrow in the dead of night anything,” you defied somewhat shakily, fist clenching as you tried to muster the will to step further away.

The man’s gaze swept over your body in a once-over that left a flash of heat flushing over your skin. His head tilted, ashen hair tickling his cheekbones and his single, long, glittering earring swaying with the movement of his head as an intrigued expression graced his almost angelic features. “Cute,” the sound of his deep voice caressing the word, in reference to you, sent a shiver down the length of your neck and spine. “I want to know, sweetheart, what’s your name?”

The longer you were in his presence the deeper you were drawn into him, yet the more awareness returned to you. You managed another step back, and he followed you with ease. You hardly registered the club, the dancing bodies or the booming music around you as his gaze burned into yours and you sobered more. “No,” you said, less of a waver in your tone. His eyebrows rose, and you took another step back, and another. “I’m not telling you.”

Something glinted in his eyes, sparked to life at the challenge you were presenting, and he took a step closer. You took another two back. Before he even managed to open his mouth, there was a loud call from behind you, high tone just barely reaching you over the music and causing cold dread to flush over you.

“y/n, come on! Let’s go!”

You stiffened, a muted sense of horror filling you as you saw the man’s face light in realisation, eyes darting between you and something behind you as he connected the information he’d received.

Realising you now had an opportunity, you used his momentary distraction to spin on your heels and bolt for the door. You had better luck creating a path now, and before you knew it you were by the door, rushing by a smiling Rosé who gave a surprised yelp when you pulled her out with you.

You moved as far away as you could, ignoring the somewhat slurred protests and questions Rosé was throwing at you as you dragged her along. Your mind was struggling, whirring as fast as it could with the remnants of your drinks hindering it. The image of the man was burnt so clearly into your mind’s eye, you were struggling to remain in denial. You wanted to go back to an hour ago, when you’d been so sure that he’d just been an image your mind had conjured while you slept. But with the scent of him still present in your nose, the feel of him a memory clinging to your skin, you couldn’t— you couldn’t delude yourself any longer.

The man you saw that night was real. He knew you saw him, and now he knew your name. a prominent feeling in your gut told you this wouldn’t be the last time you saw him.

And nothing alarmed you more.

masterlist || prologue | next

[xfilescat]

a river in egypt (steve harrington x female!reader)

word count: around 5k

warnings: language as per usual, it gets a bit saucy sometimes, & of course there’s a little angst because I apparently can’t write a story without it :,)

preview: “You may be at each other’s throats most of the time, but if there’s one thing you both always agree on, it’s that you definitely do not have feelings for each other. The kids, however, are deadset in their belief that you’re meant to be together, and Max once posited that maybe that’s why you’re constantly arguing—it’s your way of dealing with all of the “sexual tension” between you two (her words exactly). That theory threw you for a loop for a few days, but you’re positive it’s not true. Right?”

A/N: omg this bitch (me) finally posted something! it’s only been, what, seven years? i’m terribly sorry. ANYways, this is based on an idea from @32bees who is super nice btw! i kinda took their request and ran wayyy too far with it, but it’s fine. also i literally just made up the layout of Steve’s house (and ignored major plot points/character traits) as i wrote so just pretend it’s right. also btw spoons is a real game and it’s the SHIT! definitely recommend. also i totally ripped off scenes from an episode of new girl and from an episode of friends so if you catch that, don’t judge me! i just love those shows so much! anyway i hope u enjoy, friends! love you all <3

If someone had told you a few months ago—before you’d been clued in to the whole Upside Down fiasco—that you’d be spending most of your senior year with a bunch of middle schoolers and Steve Harrington, you’d have laughed in their face. Well, maybe not so much about the middle schoolers part, because you babysit all the time and you love kids. But the Steve part? No way, you would’ve said. That’s crazy—you’d never even talked to the guy before. Yet here you are, standing on his porch waiting for him to come to the door, a plate of cookies in your hands and a smile on your face. You absolutely love nights like this.

The door flies open a moment after you knock, but it’s not Steve who opens it. Dustin grins at you before turning to the living room. “Y/N’s here,” he shouts before he looks back at you—more specifically, at what you’re holding. “Ooh, cookies! Let me help you with those,” Dustin says, grabbing the plate and dashing back inside. You chuckle, following him into the house and closing the door behind you. “I feel like you guys only invite me to these things ’cause I always bring food,” you call out, taking off your shoes and coat and placing them in the hall closet.

All you hear in response is incoherent yelling. You smile to yourself. Everyone must be involved in some kind of contentious board game. The last time you were here, you guys spent ten minutes crawling around the room searching for a missing chess piece because a disgruntled Lucas had flipped the board after a devastating loss to Max. These people take their games seriously, not unlike yourself.

You round the corner into the living room. Not a lot of things surprise you anymore, but you’re definitely confused when you see everybody sitting in a circle on the floor, playing cards in their hands and a pile of spoons in front of them. They’re all eating your cookies, too. You cross the room and take a seat between Will and El. “Hi guys. If you don’t mind my asking, what the heck are you doing?”

Everyone greets you with a smile, and El turns to you. “Playing spoons!”

“What’s spoons?”

“Dustin taught us.”

You look to Dustin for further explanation. He sets his cards down with a sigh. “Okay, this is like my third time going over this because somebody—,” he pauses to glare at Lucas, “—doesn’t know how to listen. Basically, everyone gets four cards to start. The goal of the game is to get four of a kind. The dealer—which is me—takes one card from the deck and passes it around. If you need that card, you keep it and get rid of another card, ’cause you can only have four in your hand at a time. Whoever gets all their cards first gets to take a spoon, and once that person takes one, everyone else can too. There are enough spoons for every player but one. If you’re the only player left without a spoon, you’re out.”

You nod slowly. “Got it. Why spoons, though?”

Mike, who’s sitting between Dustin and El, shrugs. “Why not spoons?”

“Touché. Alright, deal me in, Dusty. And get ready to lose.”

Dustin shakes his head. “I was just about to say the same thing to you.”

You smirk playfully. “Oh, you think you can beat me?”

“No, I know I can’t, but Steve’s won every round we’ve played so far. He’s, like, a spoons prodigy. Undefeatable.”

You level your gaze at Steve, who’s directly across from you and grinning smugly. “Not for long, he’s not.”

Steve raises his eyebrows. “Okay, Y/L/N, show us what you’ve got.”

“I intend to, Harrington.”

For some unknown reason, Steve brings out a furiously competitive side of you. You ponder this as Dustin reshuffles the deck and starts handing out cards. Whether it’s playing board games, giving the kids advice, or leading expeditions into other dimensions, you’re always trying to one-up Steve and he seems to be just as ambitious to win as you are. Further, the two of you are always disagreeing on things, and those disagreements are heightened by your competitive natures—neither of you ever want to admit you’re wrong. You once argued for a good five minutes about whether cats were better than dogs, and you would’ve kept going all night if Max hadn’t shouted at you both to shut up.

Of course, all of this arguing is in good fun. Steve’s become your closest friend and confidant over the past few months and you don’t know what you’d do without him. You’d never have thought that the infamous King Steve would actually be extremely kind, caring, and protective—especially of you and the kids. You love him (as a friend, obviously), but something about him just… you don’t know. He just gets you so fired up sometimes.

The game begins, and it’s not long before you get the hang of it. In fact, you’ve managed to make it to the semi-finals: it’s just you, Steve, and Will left in the circle. You’re going for sevens, you’ve decided. You’ve currently got three out of four and you’re pretty sure you’ve got this in the bag. Will passes you a card face-down and you try to maintain your poker face when you see that it’s the last seven. Nonchalantly passing an unnecessary five off to Steve, you surreptitiously reach for one of the two spoons in front of you.

Steve catches you and quickly grabs the other one. Will’s still staring at his cards, but he looks up when he hears you and Steve cheering. “Oh, man,” he groans, dropping his cards and standing up to join the rest of the Party, who are devouring the rest of your cookies on the couch. “Better luck next time, buddy,” you say as you place your spoon back into the center.

Steve stares you down as he collects all the cards and shuffles the deck. “Ready to lose?”

You laugh. “You wish. Deal.”

He smiles at you brightly before he complies, and you’re not sure why you feel your face heat up. It’s not like you to get flustered, especially not around Steve. You may be at each other’s throats most of the time, but if there’s one thing you both always agree on, it’s that you definitely do not have feelings for each other. The kids, however, are deadset in their belief that you’re meant to be together, and Max once posited that maybe that’s why you’re constantly arguing—it’s your way of dealing with all of the “sexual tension” between you two (her words exactly). That theory threw you for a loop for a few days, but you’re positive it’s not true. Right? You quickly look down at your cards and pretend to be very invested in them. Steve notices.

“What, are you nervous, Y/N?” He sounds cocky, and you roll your eyes.

“No. Not at all. Let’s go.”

The Party has moved from the couch back to the circle, eager to watch the final round. They seem to have chosen sides: Dustin, Lucas, and Max are cheering for Steve and Will, Mike, and El are rooting for you. Dustin is by far the most enthusiastic.

“C’mon, Steve! Kick her ass!”

“Henderson, I’m trying to concentrate.”

“Right. Sorry.”

You and Steve play for a little while, exchanging trash talk that makes the kids laugh like crazy. This time, you’re going for kings. You’ve only got two, and you’re starting to get worried. “Maybe you should go for something else,” Mike whispers. You shake your head, staring daggers at the cards in front of you. “I know what I’m doing.”

“You sure about that?”

You snap your head up at the sound of Steve’s question, fearing the worst. You shriek when you see him holding the spoon. “NO! No! No way! You’ve got to be kidding me!”

He passes you his cards with a smirk. He’s got four queens. “Sorry, sweetheart. Like Dustin said: undefeatable.”

You throw all of the cards down in anguish and the kids erupt into cheers, chanting Steve’s name. Even your own fan club has joined in. So much for them being on your side. “Fuck you, Harrington,” you groan, standing up and throwing yourself onto the couch. Steve feigns shock. “Language, Y/N! Such a sore loser.”

“Shut the hell up. That wasn’t even a real game! I guarantee Dustin just made it up.”

Dustin narrows his eyes. “Did not! My mom taught me!”

“Whatever! All I’m saying is that I’m still better than Steve at everything else in the world—especially babysitting you assholes.”

The kids’ jaws drop at your boldness and Steve’s definitely shocked for real this time, but he instantly regains his composure. “Really, Y/N? You think so?”

“Oh, I know so.”

Max bursts out laughing. You turn to her. “What’s so funny? You don’t believe me?”

She shakes her head. “Nope. It’s Steve for sure.” Lucas and Dustin nod their agreement, and Steve flashes you another one of those infuriatingly arrogant grins. Well, you think with a frown, this isn’t exactly going your way. You sit up and cross your arms. “Guys, c’mon! I’ve been babysitting half of you since you were in elementary school. Steve’s only been doing it for, like, three months.”

“She’s got a point, guys,” Will says, and Mike nods. El follows suit. Looks like you’ve got your fan club back.

The others stand their ground, shrugging off your argument. “Don’t you remember him with that bat? You know, while you were off hiding in the back of the bus? He was amazing,” Lucas says.

You scoff. “That wasn’t babysitting.”

Dustin furrows his eyebrows. “Then what was it?”

“Stupidity. He could’ve died, and then who would’ve been there to save your asses? Me, of course.”

Max chuckles. “Oh, right, because you crying in the corner was very badass!”

“I wasn’t crying!” Okay, maybe you were, but it was a tough day, alright?

“Alright, that’s enough. Leave Y/N alone.” Steve says sternly. You’re pleasantly surprised that he’s coming to your rescue. “Hey, thanks,” you say with a smile. He grins back, sitting down next to you and glaring at the kids. “Now, I don’t want to hear another word about me being the better babysitter.” He throws his arm around your shoulder and lowers his voice to a stage-whisper. “We all know it’s true, but I don’t want her to cry again.”

You shove him off of you and leap to your feet. “That’s it! God, I hate you all. Not you guys,” you say, pointing to your little team of Will, Mike, and El, “but especially you, Steve.” He’s still too busy laughing at his own joke to respond, which makes you even angrier. This is all his fault. If he hadn’t thrown you off your game with that annoyingly perfect smile, you would’ve won the round of spoons and you wouldn’t be in this mess. Why is he suddenly doing this to you? Why are you losing all your senses around him while he remains totally composed? Why can’t you stop picturing that fucking smile? You hate this.

Dustin perks up. “Oh my god, I just got the best idea! I know how we can settle this!”

Steve raises an eyebrow. “How?”

“A contest! A babysitting contest!”

You tilt your head to the side, amused. “How would that even work?”

“Alright, hear me out: we’ll set up a bunch of events based on all of the classic babysitting skills: cooking, entertaining, putting the kids to bed, all that kinda stuff. Whoever wins the most events is the best babysitter!”

The kids all voice their support for this idea, and you and Steve exchange a look. “I’m in if you are,” he says. “I’m always down for a chance to wipe that smile off your face,” you retort. He breathes a laugh, shaking his head. “Okay, Dustin,” he says as he stands up next to you. “You’ve got us.”

The kids huddle up for a moment, whispering back and forth. After a minute, Dustin steps away and claps his hands together. “Great! First event: keeping the kids out of harm’s way. Go!”

You freeze. “What?”

“I call playing with matches,” Max shouts, heading towards the kitchen.

“Yeah, and I’ll run with scissors,” calls Will, following her.

“We’ll go run by the edge of the pool,” Mike says, sprinting to the back door with El in tow.

“And Dustin and I will raid Steve’s parents’ wine cabinet,” Lucas states triumphantly.

“THIS IS NOT WHAT WE AGREED TO,” you scream, running into the kitchen and yanking the offending items out of the kids’ hands. Steve apprehends Mike and El before they make it outside, and he shuts down Dustin and Lucas with just one look. “Not fuckin’ cool, you dickheads,” he says when you all return to the living room. You nod, breathing heavily. All that adrenaline has made the room feel much hotter, so you unzip your hoodie and throw it over the back of the couch. You’re tying your hair up into a high ponytail when Dustin says, “I think that round goes to Steve.”

You open your mouth to argue, but when you see the look on Steve’s face, you’re rendered speechless. It’s every bit as smug as it usually is, but there’s something more there, too. Something different. Something intense. He’s never looked at you this way before. You feel yourself blush furiously. What the hell is going on? You quickly cross your arms over your chest and jump back into the conversation. “Okay, Dustin. What’s the next round?”

The rest of the competition is a lot less harrowing, but you’re still reeling over the way Steve looked at you. Does he… no, hell no. There’s no way he likes you. I mean, any teenage guy would check out a teenage girl like that. It doesn’t mean anything. And any teenage girl would blush if a teenage guy checked her out like that, so that doesn’t mean anything, either. Neither of you like each other, nothing means anything, and everything is completely normal. Riiight?

To distract yourself from your inner turmoil, you decide to throw yourself into the contest with everything you have. You crushed Steve in the cooking round, which consisted of the two of you trying to make the best meal out of whatever you could find in Steve’s pantry. You lost to him, however, during the entertainment event. You just couldn’t match the way he could so effortlessly make the kids laugh—primarily by teasing you. This pattern continued: you won at one thing, he won at the next. The two of you were taking a water break in the kitchen when the kids called you out into the living room.

“Competitors, this is the final round. Score’s tied, so bring your A-game,” Lucas announces. “Are you guys ready?”

“I was born ready,” Steve says. You nod, tightening your ponytail.

Max clears her throat. “You’ll notice that Dustin is missing from the room.”

Steve grins. “That explains why it was so quiet all of a sudden.” There’s a muffled “Hey!” from somewhere in the house, and you giggle.

“Your goal is to find him before the other babysitter does. Ready… set… go!”

You two take off running and end up racing each other up the stairs. You make it to the top first and you’re halfway down the hallway when Steve grabs your arm, pulls you behind him, and sprints on ahead of you. You stomp your foot. “Cheater!” He’s already searching his bedroom, and you know Dustin wouldn’t have hidden in the guestroom or Steve’s parents’ room, so you eliminate those. You’re just about to check the bathroom when Steve runs in first, cutting you off again. You throw your hands up in frustration. “Oh my god! Stop doing that!”

He looks back at you and smirks. “Sorry. I don’t know about you, Y/L/N, but I’m playing to win.” You roll your eyes and opt for heading back to the first floor. You do a quick scan of the front hall before your eyes land on the closet. That's it! You can see light spilling out from the bottom of the door and you chuckle. Rookie mistake, Dustin. You dash over and throw the door open. Sure enough, he’s there, and you jump up and down in excitement. “Hell yes! I win! Fuck yeah!”

The rest of the Party runs into the room and Steve appears at the top of the stairs. When he sees you celebrating, he groans. “Shit! C’mon, Henderson, why’d you go for the most obvious spot?”

Dustin steps out with a mischievous smirk. “Because we knew at least one of you would fall for it.”

You narrow your eyes. “Fall for wh—”

You’re interrupted by Dustin pushing you into the closet and immediately slamming the door. Stunned, you trip backward over a pair of shoes and land ungracefully on the floor. “What the HELL?” You stand up and grab the handle, but it won’t turn. You bang on the door. “Dustin, let me out! This really isn’t funny!” You can tell your voice sounds panicked. You start to feel like you can’t breathe. You’re not so good with being alone in confined spaces. You hear Steve make his way down the stairs and across the foyer.

“Hey, let her out, man. I’m serious.” There’s that protective side of him, the one you never knew he had. It stirs up that flustered feeling in you again and you try to brush it off. You hear Dustin sigh defeatedly. “Alright, alright.” You breathe out in relief when the door opens up. However, instead of letting you climb out, Dustin pushes Steve in with you. Steve trips over the shoes just like you did before, landing at your feet with a thud. You look at each other in shock as the door shuts once more. This time, you hear someone slide something underneath the handle—probably a chair.

You give Steve your hand, pulling him upright. The two of you start pounding on the door. “You shitheads better let us out of here,” he yells.

“Stop knocking,” shouts Max.

You continue hitting the door. “No! Not until you tell us what the HELL is going on!”

“We would if you’d be quiet!”

“Oh.” You both stop.

“Okay, so you’re probably wondering why we’ve locked you in there,” Dustin calls.

Steve rolls his eyes. “No shit.”

“Well,” Max continues, “we lied when we told you that finding Dustin was the final round. This is the real final round.”

You scoff. “What, you want us to fight to the death in here or something?”

Lucas laughs. “The opposite, actually.”

You hear a slapping sound. “Stick to the script, you idiot!” It’s Mike speaking this time. “This last event is about not giving in. Babysitters can’t give in because then, kids would get away with anything they wanted.”

“Whoever gives in to their feelings first loses,” Dustin says proudly.

Fuck. You should’ve known they’d pull some stunt like this. Remember the time they told you and Steve they wanted to go out to dinner as a big group and then none of them showed up, leaving you and Steve alone on what was technically a date? Yeah. This isn’t surprising. “Oh my god,” you shout. “How many times do we have to tell you that we don’t have feelings for each other?”

“’Til you can say it honestly,” Max responds.

“I’m honestly going to kick all of your asses,” Steve yells.

“You’re in a river in Egypt, Steve,” Dustin says.

“What?”

“You’re in DENIAL!”

The kids burst into hysterics and you two groan. You try to appeal to their better nature one last time. “Please, guys. Please open the door.” Your voice is small and desperate and you can feel Steve’s eyes on you. The lights go out, and you inhale sharply. “Not falling for it, Y/L/N. Good luck,” Max chirps. You hear the group walk away, and after a moment the radio in the living room turns on.

You turn around so your back is against the door and slowly sink to the ground. “Hey, you okay?” Steve sounds concerned. You nod before remembering he can’t see you. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. I just really don’t like being closed in like this,” you say with a quick laugh. He sighs, sitting down next to you. “Those kids… they’re gonna be the death of me. They should’ve let you out.”

“S’okay, they didn’t know any better. This is probably a flawless plan in their minds.”

He chuckles. “Are you sure you’re alright? Because I’ll break the door down if you want me to.”

You smile. “Not necessary. I’ll be okay. It’s easier with you here.”

He wraps his arm around you and pulls you close. He’s done stuff like that a million times since you two became friends because he’s naturally very touchy-feely, but this time, you feel butterflies in your stomach and your pulse starts racing. It’s unsettling. You decide to go back to teasing him in hopes that it’ll make things feel like normal again. “But honestly, I’d like to see you try to break down the door. Bet I could do it before you.”

He laughs. “You’re cute when you’re competitive.”

That catches you off guard. So much for returning to normalcy. “What?”

“You heard me.”

You blink. “I thought—I thought you said you didn’t have feelings for me.”

“Oh, I don’t. That’s just a fact.”

Your eyes have adjusted enough to the dark that you can sort of see him, so you look him dead in the eye. “Oh yeah? Well you’re insufferable when you’re competitive.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

“Insufferable, huh?” He leans back with a smirk like you just payed him a compliment.

“Yes! And that’s not a good thing, you dick! You make me so fucking mad. And I hate it when you smile at me like that when we’re arguing.”

“Like what? Like this?” He grins at you just like he did before the card game and your heart beats faster. You hope he can’t hear it.

“Ugh, yes! Stop it! I hate that!”

“Well, if I have to stop that, you have to stop getting all nervous and blush-y around me, ’cause I hate that.”

“That never happens,” you lie, feeling your face heat up.

“It’s literally happening right now.”

“Jesus, do you have superhuman vision or something? How the hell can you see that well in the dark?”

“Actually, it was just a guess, but now I know it’s true.”

You laugh in spite of yourself. “Fuck you.”

He pulls you closer. “You can if you want to.” You know he’s joking, but there’s an alarming hint of seriousness in his tone. You freak out.

“God, no! Stop it! You’re falling into the kids’ trap. They want us to live out one of those cliché movie scenes where the guy and the girl start making out in the middle of an argument.”

“Okay, okay. You’re right. Let’s just stop talking, then.”

“Wonderful idea.”

You’re grateful for the quiet. That conversation was giving you whiplash. You’ve spent so much time and energy trying to convince yourself that Steve doesn’t like you like that, and then all of a sudden, he comes right out and tells you that he does. And then he takes it back one second later. And then he invites you to fuck him, only half joking. It’s like a freakin’ roller coaster ride.

“I wouldn’t want to kiss you that way,” he says after a few minutes, breaking the silence.

“Wait, what? Wh-who said anything about kissing?”

“Um, you did, remember? When you were talking about the cliché movie scenes?”

“Oh. Right. Well, I don’t want to kiss you at all.”

He scoffs. “I don’t believe you. I know you like me, too.”

“Too?”

He sighs heavily. “Yes, I really do like you, okay? Can we both stop pretending now?”

“I’m not pretending,” you say as definitively as you can manage, looking away.

“Y/N,” he says gently, pulling you toward his chest. You push him away, stand up, and start knocking on the door. This is getting a little overwhelming, and you kinda feel like the walls are closing in. “Let us out, you jerks!”

Steve sighs. “They’re not gonna let us out.”

You ignore him. “Open the fucking door!”

“Y/N.”

You grow more and more frantic. “C’mon, guys, please!”

“Y/N!” He stands up and grabs your shoulders, spinning you away from the door. “Please stop it. Just talk to me.”

You look down. “I have to get out of here,” you say, your voice hoarse from yelling.

“Why won’t you admit you like me?”

You don’t answer.

“You can tell me anything, and you know that. So why are you lying?”

You finally meet his gaze. “Because what if it doesn’t work out?”

Damn. There it is. It’s definitely as surprising a response to you as it is to him. Oh my god, that’s why you’ve been denying your feelings for so long, that’s why you’ve been using arguing and competing with him as defense mechanisms, that’s why you feel like you can’t catch your breath right now. You’re scared.

Steve looks incredulous. “Why—why wouldn’t it work out?”

You sit back down and hug your knees to your chest. “Well, aside from the fact that we both know life likes to throw us major, earth-shattering curve balls,” you say with a humorless chuckle, “have you ever been in a relationship that didn’t crash and burn?”

He sits next to you, his shoulder touching yours. “No, but—”

“Exactly.”

Steve’s just about to respond when there’s a commotion outside and the door flies open. You both fall onto your backs on the hardwood. You look up and see the Party staring down at you.

“Shit, sorry! Didn’t mean to interrupt,” Dustin says with a suggestive wink.

“You’re not interrupting anything,” you reply as you climb to your feet and breeze past the kids into the living room. You can tell everyone’s staring at you. You grab your hoodie and hurriedly put it on.

“What’s with her?” You hear Max ask Steve quietly.

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe she just got locked in a closet against her will! Anybody wanna tell me who’s bright idea that was?”

Everybody says a different name, and Steve sighs. You walk back across the foyer and pull open the front door.

“Are you leaving?” Dustin sounds confused.

“Just need some fresh air.”

“You forgot your shoes,” Lucas points out.

“I’m fine,” you say flatly, locking eyes with Steve before shutting the door a little harder than necessary. Hopefully he’ll take the hint and won’t do that thing where he follows you and tries to make you feel better. That’s a classic Steve move. You don’t need him, you tell yourself. Like you said: you’re fine.

Obviously you’re not really fine, though. Everything's pretty much falling to pieces, and all you want is to be able to erase everything that just happened. Also, you probably should’ve grabbed your shoes and coat because it’s still early March and there’s snow on the ground, but you don’t care. The cold is a welcome distraction from the realization that Steve likes you and he knows you like him. This is so not how you expected this night to go.

You hear the front door open and slam shut behind you. You jump half a foot in the air and whirl around. Steve’s standing there with his arms crossed indignantly. “What the hell, Harrington? You almost gave me a heart attack.”

“You know, you’re kind of an idiot,” he says sharply.

You put your hands on your hips. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Yeah, you’re being stupid right now. So what if we’ve never been in relationships that lasted before? You’re missing the whole damn point. It’s so obvious.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Don’t you get it? It’s only gotta last once. One time. Maybe nothing’s ever worked out before because it wasn’t supposed to, because maybe you and me are supposed to.”

For the second time tonight, he leaves you speechless for a moment. “You really feel that way?”

“I have for a long time,” he says, his voice softer now.

You meet his eyes and there’s nothing but sincerity there. You’re not sure how to respond, so you just say what comes to mind first. “You’re my best friend.”

“You’re my best friend, too.”

“I don’t wanna lose you.”

He closes the distance between you, wrapping his arms around your waist. “You’re not losing a best friend, you’re gaining a boyfriend.”

You laugh. “You sure you wanna do this?”

“I’m in if you are.”

“Alright, Steve. You wore me down.”

He smiles that goddamn smile again, the one that breaks down all of your walls. You narrow your eyes. “Did we not just talk about that smile? You’ve gotta stop.”

“I’ll think about it. By the way, can I kiss you now, or would it still be too cliché?”

You instantly blush, and he rolls his eyes. “Oh my god, never mind. If you’re gonna do that every time, this definitely isn’t going to work out. I’m gonna lose my mind.”

“Shut up,” you breathe as you lean in and press your lips to his.

Kissing him is nothing like you would’ve thought it would be. With all the buildup, all the flirtatious arguing and teasing, you expected fiery passion and urgency. However, he kisses you softly, sweetly, and slowly, like he’s got all the time in the world to do it. Your hands tangle in his hair and he gently pulls you up against him, deepening the kiss. It feels so incredibly right that you forget why you ever tried to resist him. Maybe the kids weren’t too far off when they said you were meant to be together.

After a little while, he pulls away. “I’m telling the kids you gave in first.”

Before you can tell him to fuck off, his lips are back on yours and you forget everything again. You can’t feel the ice under your socks or the wintry air on your skin anymore. This kiss is different. It’s intense. It’s hot enough to dry up a river in Egypt. He’s definitely a better kisser than you are, no contest. You’re never ever gonna admit that to him, though. No way.

[elfnerdherder]

Ill Intentions: Chapter 3

You can read Chapter 3 on Ao3 Here

Chapter 3: Editor’s Choice

Tattler Special: Will of ‘Will Intentions’ Saves Life of Reader Through Use of Clues Sent From ‘Avid Fan’

Tattler Reporter Withholds Evidence That Almost Cost Innocent Woman Her Life

FBI Investigates Withholding of Evidence in Avid Fan Case

New Column in Tattler News Breeding Ground for Psychopaths?

           Will thought that maybe their lapse in judgement could have cost ratings, but Charlie was right: serial killers sold. Serial killers, when coupled with scandal, sex, conspiracy, death, or intrigue, sold even more. The more other newspapers tried to report on him, the more popular Tattler News became –more importantly, the more popular Will Intentions became. Job security at its finest, he supposed.

           Jack Crawford certainly didn’t feel the same. He intercepted Will before he could go into work, sunglasses, trench coat and all.

           “I already spoke with your boss. You’re not in trouble,” he said.

           “I know.”

           “Walk with me, Mr. Graham.”

           Will walked with him because it was better than walking into work and trying to explain why an FBI Agent was keeping him from firing up his computer to get to work on his column. Although readily able to gain the impressions of feelings from everyone in the room, Will Graham wasn’t exactly versed in smoothing over said emotions.

           They found a place to sit at a small, haphazard attempt at a park. It boasted a questionable swing-set and a water fountain. A few trees, river birches he supposed, hung over their aged, sad bench and provided shade. He scuffed a foot on the ground and watched one of the swings sway in the breeze, rust at the hinges. He mirrored its movements with a lazily swinging leg.

           “Did it occur to you to call me after you saw that letter?”

           “I wasn’t sure if it was serious,” Will said. “I took it to my boss, and he said we should look into it first.”

           “You didn’t call me after, though,” Jack pointed out.

           “Nope,” Will agreed.

           Jack let the silence hang suspended over them, and Will was content with it. His watch beeped to inform him that if he wasn’t sitting down at his desk, he was late. He tapped the notification absentmindedly.

           “Do you have the note with you?”

           “I have a picture.”

           The picture of the first note on his phone was produced, and he zoomed in so that Jack could see it. While Jack read the note, Will continued to swing one of his feet in time with the swing, lazy sways that creaked with his joints. He needed to stretch more.

           “Obviously we’re investigating this,” Jack said slowly. He sounded on the verge of saying something nasty. “You didn’t put in the papers that it’s the Chesapeake Ripper.”

           “My boss wanted to sit on that news for a little bit.”

           “Oh, he wanted to sit on it, did he?”

           “Well, it’s not the Chesapeake Ripper’s M.O., is it?” Will asked off-handedly. “He mutilates his victims, and he takes trophies.”

           “So you’ve read about him,” said Jack. He had the sort of aura that made Will nervous. He wondered if there was an app that could help relieve something like that. He saw Jack as the readily aggressive type when he was on the trail to something, jaw set and eyes narrowed.

           “After he signed the first note, I read about him.” Will’s leg continued to scuff and swing, making small, mindless designs in the dirt. “Nine victims, eight bodies, organs as surgical trophies after mutilation, artistic depictions of seemingly random scenes of art. You guys don’t have a lot.”

           “I’ve never liked reporters,” Jack said curtly. Bluntly. Will blinked, adjusting his glasses so that they rested straight on his nose.

           “Okay.”

           “You constantly get in the way of ongoing investigations, you’re nosy, you’re troublesome, and half of the time I’ve found enough DNA from reporters alone to contaminate twelve crime scenes from here to Quantico,” he continued on, unheeding of Will’s unoffended posture. Will continued to swing his leg.

           “I think it’s just someone using his name to get attention,” said Will when Jack didn’t continue his tirade. “That’s why I didn’t post the name. Unnecessary panic and giving credit where credit wasn’t due.”

           Jack had to give him that. He growled something low in his throat, rubbed his face in his hands. “Right.”

           “I saw some pictures, and this isn’t that. Even if it is the Chesapeake Ripper, it’s something else.”

           “Some pictures told you that?”

           “Some pictures told me Hobbs had a daughter.”

           Jack had to give him that, too. He mulled his words around, considering Will with a dubious expression borderlining on mild aggression.

           “You’ve gotten a lot of shit from Freddie Lounds,” Will tacked on. “I didn’t recognize your name until I saw it typed on your business card, but I remember it from a lot of her articles on crimes and the involvement of the FBI. She doesn’t give you a glowing reference.”

           “Freddie Lounds,” Jack cursed.

           “She’s a pain in my ass, too.” If he was trying to find some common ground, he’d succeeded. Will saw Jack’s shoulders lessen somewhat in tension. He was listening. “I know you think I was just going for ratings, but really I was just trying to help whoever he’d potentially grabbed.”

           It was a funny thing, lying. Will was about as well-versed in it as he was in writing, which was to say that given the right incentive, he was very, very good.

           “You entertaining this person –Chesapeake Ripper or not –is going to make him want to continue,” Jack said slowly.

           “He was going to whether or not I replied. His tone alone shows the uncomfortable arrogance of a person that does what he wants no matter the audience.”

           “Oh, you analyzed that too, did you?” Jack asked snidely.

           “Yes.”

           He stopped swinging his leg when a kid hopped onto the swing and started pumping their legs, throwing themselves into the motions with wild abandon. It threw him out of the loop, and he blinked at the swing, dejected. He tapped the tip of his shoe on the ground, agitated.

           “This becomes my jurisdiction rather than the police, since it’s the Chesapeake Ripper,” Jack said. “I’d really appreciate your full cooperation, Mr. Graham.”

           “It won’t stop me from writing articles about it,” Will replied.

           “If it’s-”

           “It’s not impeding investigation if I cooperate with you. The people deserve to know, and I have an amendment that says I can keep them informed while still helping you out.” Among other things, like keeping ratings up and shoving it to Freddie Lounds. He wasn’t sure if it was healthy that a mutual distaste for Freddie made him feel a small sense of comradery to Jack Crawford.

           Friendships had bloomed on stonier ground, he figured.

           “He sends a letter again, I’m the first to know,” Jack said. “You still have my card?”

           “Pinned to my corkboard,” Will promised. Right next to the two letters, the two columns, and the gold star.

           “I hate reporters,” Jack said, like he was still ruminating on Will’s ability to have his cake and eat it, too.

           Jack left him on the park bench, and Will idled for a small while, watching the kid. Their mother sat on an equally dismal park bench just across from his, and he noted her Nike kicks and classy joggers. He wondered, if he had his notebook, if he could have written the sort of description that gave her the sense of wealth and refinement, of one that wore active-wear but didn’t bother with activity. Why work out when one could merely live off of wheat-grass and protein smoothies to stay thin? Maybe he’d just flounder with the words, scratching most of them out before he ultimately gave up. Words that stumbled and ultimately stuck together, clammy and far too much of a mouthful for a reader to digest. Writer’s block and all.

           Are serial killers your muse?

           He was distracted from his suppositions of just how he’d describe the heather-grey of the woman’s joggers by a phone call, and he answered without looking at the number, managing a distant, vague “Hello?”

           “Am I distracting you from your thoughts, Mr. Graham?”

           It was a cultured, accented voice, peppered with amusement and a hint of clever edges. Will sat up from his slumped posture and cracked his back, pulling the phone away to look at the number. Restricted.

           “Who is this?”

           “I thought your response in your column aptly fitting; you have a way with editing my words while still maintaining my tone and identity. I thought to write again, but after the girl was found I assumed correctly that the FBI would hunt you down, much the way they did after your words led them to Garrett Jacob Hobbs.”

           “Fuck,” Will breathed. His grip tightened on his phone, and he looked about, standing up with toes rapidly growing cold. “You’re joking.”

           “My humor doesn’t fall to such designs as prank calls.”

           “Alright, what does the inside of my apartment look like?” No one loitered in the small, desolate park save the child and her distant mother. On the sidewalk, swarms of people moved about their day-to-day business, early morning hours keeping their steps quick and harried so that they were on time. A distant beep informed him it was time for a cup of water –coffee if he’d not gotten enough at home. He was out of sync with his watch. The thought didn’t sit well.

           “As dour as the outside, with faded taupe walls, no decorations save a corkboard that sat blank until your debut –a formal congratulations, by the way –and a couch abused by the claws of an animal that you don’t own. Your laptop sat closed until I opened it. Most laptop users don’t bother with powering down their electronics, but you do. I thought it an interesting but subtle insight to your character.”

           “You’re not the Chesapeake Ripper,” Will said slowly. He strained his ears for any sound on the other end, but it was silent, like the caller sat in a room of nothing but him and the air around him.

           “Oh, but I am. My first confession.”

           “What did I use to save Hannah Oberly?” he challenged.

           “You used the insulin at the base of the pupa I placed her in in order to save her life, although it didn’t revive her in her entirety. I used a reef knot for her hands to her feet, not because she was in any position to escape, but because I wanted to regale you now with the fact.”

           “…What can I do for you, then?” Will wet his lips, wandered towards the sidewalk, neck craning. Too many people on their cellphones. Too much noise for any of them to be him. He supposed that he should be scared, being on the phone with an alleged serial killer, but truth be told his heart’s rapid skipping was excitement, not fear.

           “It’s not what you can do for me, but what I’ve already been able to do for you.”

           “Oh?”

           “You were stagnant, prone to living within fantasies constructed in your mind rather than living in your present moment. You resent your dull, obtuse career, the rut you’ve already fallen into at only twenty-six years of age. Stuck on back page news, writing about marriages between people you neither care for nor love. Was this what you’d gone to school for, Mr. Graham? Was this what made you love writing? Or did writing alleviate the way you could look at a person and see their innermost thoughts, their secrets hidden so well you’d either need to be a psychic or remarkably clever and imaginative? Did writing dull the frantic hisses building in the darker recesses of your mind?

           “You were two years away from suicide, I’d wager. Six months away from alcoholism.”

           “I wasn’t aware you were the charitable type to help with cases like that.”

           “I’m offering you a game, as I said before. Something to excite you, something to make you stretch the muscle behind your eyes that you’ve let sit fat and useless for too long. I’m also offering job security, since you’re so prolific at thinking about killers.”

           He’d sounded half a breath away from saying ‘killing’ rather than ‘killers’.

           “Why me?” he asked. “There are handfuls of others that’d probably bear your attention with far more grace than I can. Ask anyone.”

           “Yes, I saw your unfortunate conversation with Agent Crawford. You don’t bear the attention of many people very well, same as you don’t bear the attention of time the way others can. Tell me, do you program your watch to tell you when it’s appropriate to laugh? To cry? Does it take you very long to find the right emotion to attach to the right situation?”

           Fuck, he could see right through him, couldn’t he? Will looked up at the damned buildings surrounding them, the many windows –he didn’t want many, though, there was just one, one where the Chesapeake Ripper lurked and taunted him.

           “Then you could see why I wouldn’t be the most entertaining victim,” Will said. Too many windows. Too many fucking windows.

           “I don’t want you to be a victim, Will Graham,” he said, amusement coloring his tone. “I want to be your friend.”

           There. The sound of a door closing, the babble of voices. Will spun, buffeted by the crowds of people around him, and when an ice cream truck’s music trickled in through the ear piece, he spun around again, tracking its movements through the street. The image burned into his eyes, left tires spinning, spinning, spinning.

           “My friend,” he prompted, shoving his way through the people. At the crosswalk, he started without waiting for the walk sign, and he narrowly avoided a motorcycle that whizzed by, the driver flipping him the bird. It didn’t matter, though. The ice cream truck was driving away, the sound fading, voices crackling through the earpiece to him.

           “Is that a novel concept for you? Are connections so foreign a thing?”

           “Sending me riddles where people could die isn’t really a solid basis of friendship,” he pointed out. Someone pushed him out of their way when he paused, ears straining.

           “Of course it is. For people like us, it takes far more than a simple hello.”

           A horn honked through the earpiece, and he tracked the car that made the noise with his eyes. He followed it, feet picking up, eyes pinned to the building that opened up to an alley where noise echoed, bounced. He had him. He fucking had him.

           “People like us?”

           “You can claim a moral high ground all you like, but this is the most exciting thing that’s happened to you in years. Good bye, Mr. Graham. We’ll talk soon.”

           Will rounded the corner into the alley, just as he saw someone at the other end disappear. He hung up and ran, jumping over a broken crate of what he suspected to be rotting tomatoes, dodged a homeless man that tried to stick his leg out to trip him, his blood singing in his ears as he reached the end and whipped around the corner.

           To no one there.

           Rather, too many people were there. It was another sidewalk on the other side of the building that led towards a small pond where ducks harassed bench squatters for food, and food trucks sidled up to prepare for an early morning breakfast rush. No one ran, apart from joggers. No one looked particularly suspicious or gleeful. Someone brushed past his shoulder, a middle-aged woman with an executive haircut, and the look she cast him could have melted butter at daring to get in her way.

           Will let out a shaky sigh, tucking his phone into his pocket. His watch buzzed with a notification from Beverly asking where he was, and he angrily slid the envelope icon off of the screen. The Chesapeake Ripper had gotten away.

           On his way back through the alley, he looked down at the homeless man and scowled. “Did he pay you to trip me?”

           “He didn’t pay me to let you get him, that’s for damn sure,” the man said with a grin.

           “What’d he look like?”

           “Fuck you,” the man retorted. He stood, adjusted worn, fraying pants, then sidled around Will and shambled down out of the alley, muttering to himself.

           Will headed to work, trying to ignore the way his pulse pounded just under his eye, pushing the Chesapeake Ripper’s words further and further into his skull to rot.

           This is the most exciting thing that’s happened to you in years.

-

           He didn’t tell Agent Crawford, however; when the next note turned up a week later, amidst concerned writers and angry moms, he sat down once more in Charlie’s office and stewed over it, breaking down to light his own cigarette and bask in the stench of clove and smoke.

Dear Will,

            Your readers will surely relish your insight to my psyche, as much as they enjoyed seeing you delve into the Minnesota Shrike’s. Truly, the masses revel in a good witch hunt, much the same way they enjoy reading about death and torture until they’re part of it. Be careful, though; don’t have too much faith in your readers. They will only love you so long as you prove to be a safe form of enjoyment, something that entertains with ease in the comfort of their homes.

           This one is only mildly harder, but I think we need to take things slowly, really work your muscles at a gradual incline. Too much, and I fear you’ll quit from the effort. We don’t want that, not now that we’re getting started.

The man who invented it doesn’t want it.

The man who buys it doesn’t need it.

The man who needs it doesn’t know it.

You have three days.

                                                                                                           -Avid Fan

           “A coffin,” Will said, watching Charlie. His boss stamped out the butt of his cigarette and eyed Will, rubbing the stubble from a spot he’d missed on his chin.

           “That Agent Crawford wants me to call him on these things,” Charlie said. “He threatened some kind of bull shit about obstruction of justice. Threatened to put my ass up in miles of paperwork”

           “I don’t know if he just wants me to see this place, or if there’s someone there,” Will pointed out. He considered telling Charlie about the phone call, considered against it. If he did, he’d have to tell Agent Crawford, then he’d find himself in protective custody faster than he could say “Chesapeake Ripper”.

           He couldn’t get locked up; not now that they were getting started.

           “So we go find this place, you give the call if something’s wrong?” Charlie asked. “What kind of other things you looking to post on this column? Ratings still look good, and there’s not enough backlash to even consider pulling. It’s as popular as Chats With Bev.”

           “They want to know why I investigated rather than going to the police. I’ll answer that, first.”

           “Yeah, yeah,” Charlie agreed.

           “Someone asked if I’d continue posting the notes if the Avid Fan sent again, and I thought to mention utmost cooperation with the police.”

           “Good, yeah.”

           “Someone asked if I thought more kidnappings or killings would occur because of this.”

           Charlie frowned and mulled over the question. He tapped another cigarette out of the box and let Will light it for him.

           “No. Something else. We’re not doing no god damn self-fulfilling prophecies; they want to blame us for some psycho, they can go read US Weekly or something.” An idle threat, since US Weekly tended to be far more popular than Tattler News.

           Will nodded, stubbed out his own cigarette. When his watch beeped, he stood up and got more water from the sun-abused water cooler, sipping down the stagnant taste.

           “Should I look into it?” Will asked when he didn’t say anything. Despite the low, nonchalant level of his tone, he was uncertain in the face of his own excitement. It made his palms tingle.

           “You got three days, kid. I say, look into it.”

-

           There were a lot of coffin makers and funeral homes in the DC area. So many that by the third day, the excitement to find and the eagerness of the hunt was sore leaving him, watch beeping periodically to commend him on his steps. He’d walked so many god damn steps. He adjusted the notifications on his phone to increase reminders for water to better combat all of the moving around that he was doing.

           He thought a lot about the phone call, how the Chesapeake Ripper was simply trying to give him something to do because he wanted to be friends.

           Had they met before? A brief moment, an interaction? He’d tried to find ways to lurk about the break room, listen to the cadences of his co-workers, but there was no way to eavesdrop on all of Tattler News. The voice was posh, cultured, far too sophisticated for their brand of tawdry work. Besides, he wouldn’t risk it if he thought Will would be able to find him so soon.

           Not when they were just getting started.

           He walked into a funeral home, dejected, looking more for a place to sit than anything else. Funeral homes were odd to him, a clash of faux sophistication in the face of grief, a delicate veneer of poise coupled with the sobbing sounds of the mourning. The walls of them ran with emotions too high to handle, leaving him often short of breath.

           “Hello?” he called out when no one greeted him. Music played in the adjoining room, the wake room he realized as he stepped in to look around. Satin wraps were tied around chairs with thick cushions and metal backs, and the smell of Iris and Calla Lilies clogged his breath. On display, a coffin of spectacular make rested, polished burgundy with gold etchings of filigree along the sides and down the top. A small, quaint stereo reminiscent of the 90’s played soothing piano, and when he reached the front where it rested, he turned it off and looked around, disquieted by the lack of bodies and sudden lack of noise.

           “Hello?”

           No one. He moved to leave, but it was then that there was a faint, feeble thump from the coffin beside him. He gave a start, turning towards it with a quiet yelp. His skin crawled, and when the thump came again he reached out and grabbed the latch, shaking, stupid fingers fumbling with it before he was able to throw it open, covering his nose at the smell that hit him.

           “Help…please…” the man wheezed, and Will gagged, the hot stench of manure dank as it blended with the flowers already permeating the air. His fingers stuttered over his phone, but he managed the call to 911 and sank back into one of the chairs, stammering out the address to the place to a confused but calm dispatcher.

           From that angle, the hand lifting from the coffin was bleak, threatening, like he’d ripped himself from the earth within to claw his way out.

           “Please,” he called out again, and Will dropped the phone, cursing himself. Of course, yes, the person, the person, Will.

           “Hang on, hang on,” he said, and he brushed the earth, warm in its coffin confines, away from the man’s face, weak from lack of air, food, or water. His eyes roved, listless, and Will helped him up, hissing out a breath of shock as worms fell with the earth, ugly and wriggling as they tried to dive back in.

           “He cursed and hauled the man up and out of the coffin, falling back with him onto the ground and wheezing out a breath. His skin, unlike Hannah Oberly’s, was warm and an odd sort of damp from the earth. From a short distance, he heard the voice of the dispatcher crackling through his phone, telling him to hang on; everything was going to be alright.

[oliverdinah]

dinahslances‌:

_

Once River called for a lunch break, Jolene chewed on her bottom lip nervously. She knew what was coming next and frankly she was terrified. She still had a couple more days shooting after having scored a role where she was speaking in a few scenes. This was her first sort of big break where she wasn’t working just one day and Jolene didn’t want to get fired from it because she fucked the director. She did try to hang back as much as possible, weaving out of the set so that he couldn’t get her attention but all that was in vain when one of his assistants came up to her and told her that she needed to go see River in his trailer. With a heavy sigh, the blonde walked towards the trailer, her palms starting to sweat. The blonde knocked on his trailer door, waiting for him to tell her to come in. Hearing his voice, the blonde audibly gulped before then opening the door and climbing up the steps. “You wanted to see me, Mr. Robbins?” she asked, trying to sound as formal as possible as if the two of them never shared an intimate moment the night before. Standing awkwardly in front of him and hearing the door shut behind her, Jolene started to feel self conscious, it didn’t help that she was practically dressed for the male gaze. Feeling his eyes on her, she shifted in her spot, looking down at her shoes and tugging her all too short shirt lower in an attempt to hide her legs. “Look, I’m not really here for anything other than I want to work. I got this job a couple months ago. I didn’t… I didn’t know who you were last night and I just want to work,” she mumbled.

At this time of day, the last thing River should be doing was drinking. Then again, he shouldn’t be drinking on set at all and normally he wouldn’t be. He’d be out there giving people hell about wrong set pieces being used or doing the hundredth take of a scene, but seeing the girl he had slept with the night before really threw him for a loop. It didn’t help that Emily kept trying to stop by his trailer to make sure everything was fine. She clearly knew that something was on his mind, but he wasn’t about to tell her that. He simply explained that he needed to fix somethings in the script that he wasn’t happy about and that he’d need to be alone for that. Luckily, she did leave him alone. If there was one thing she knew it was to not mess with him while he was working. No one took his job more seriously than River did. Some would say he took it too seriously, but right now it worked to his advantage, wanting to get Jolene alone so that he could ask her what in the world was going on. He worried he’d have to do some major PR damage with this and he could not deal with that right now. He had sent his assistant out to ask Jolene to enter his trailer and when he heard a knock at the door, River knew it was her. “Come in,” he said, watching her step inside and closing the door behind her. Before he could even say anything, she was already trying to explain herself and truthfully? River wasn’t listening to a goddamn thing. Perhaps it wasn’t the best idea to invite her over when she was wearing something that revealed her long smooth legs and a top that pushed her breasts out in a mesmerizing way. All her outfit did was remind him of when he was in between those legs and when his mouth was on those tits of hers as he fucked her senseless. Perhaps he should have just left it alone and maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t be grabbing her by the face and pushing her against the door, his mouth coming down on hers hard and hot and deliberate.

bad news coming | jolene/river

[dbzebra]

Finally finished Persona 5! 100/10 would buy again

Anyway my god, this game was amazing. Prolly one of the best 135 hours and not one point did I feel bored. For my first Persona game ever, I got 11/21 confidants maxed, and while not great, I did get the true ending on my first try. I think it was a decent job considering I had no idea what options to pick at first. I got to rank 6 with Ryuji outta luck before I starting using a guide for them lolol

I knew it was a fantastic game from the very first time I heard Life Will Change in that opening scene (one of my favorite songs now) but they blew away time and time again, especially with those final three dungeons.

It’s not a perfect game, no game is, but fuck this comes pretty damn close. My biggest complaint is that the romance aspect was really limited. (I wanted more time with best waifu Makoto dammit!! The dates on Christmas and Valentines are beyond adorable and there should’ve been more lol)

Story was amazing.  To be honest, in terms of story itself, next to the final guy, my favorite was the first palace. They really set the bar high with that. He was just a fucking scumbag, like out of everyone besides the main culprit i believe he was the biggest piece of shit. Which is a good thing for a villain. 

Those fucking plot twists had me yelling at my screen. I knew it from the beginning, but they threw me off for a while but when everything came out I was shocked lol. I kinda got spoiled for the true final boss, but I ended up figuring things out for myself anyway after I made myself forget what I accidentally saw when looking up the right dialogue options for confidants lol. Oh well, still not at all how I expected it to go so no harm no foul. 

Characters. What else can I say? The team of Akira/Joker, Morgana, Ryuji, Ann, Yusuke, Futaba, best waifu Makoto and Haru are prolly the best cast of characters I’ve seen in a game in a while. (my first full exposure to a JRPG, so I’m biased, idc). If it’s not Ann and Ryuji teasing each other, Morgana being a smartass, or Futaba messing with Yusuke aka Inari lmao. And so much more. I wish we could’ve seen more of Haru earlier though besides cameos. She’s too precious and adorable 

It’s funny I was totally on Team Ann in the beginning and didn’t like Makoto at first until joined the team and her awakening scene i was like oh shit best girl right there. 

Even the side characters who weren’t apart of the main team were fascinating. Notably Sojiro and Sae. 

Comedy is great. Not gonna spoil anything because stuff like that it’s better to just experience yourself. 

The anime cutscenes were fucking beautiful, every single one of them. Please make an anime out of P5 Atlus, I’d pay anything to see such a brilliant story fully animated; sure they’ll have to go fast at times but I really don’t care it’ll be worth it. Also idgaf if I get hate for this, I prefer their English voices. They all did incredible jobs; I wish more scenes got voice but I can’t complain. All of them sounded so awesome. Though winner goes to Makoto because damn her actress made sound so mature/sexy/cute all at once. Cherami Leigh ily. lolol

Music is top tier as well. All the regular instrumental themes are awesome. But where this game really shines is the lyrical themes. Life Will Change, River in the Desert, Last Surprise and Beneath the Mask are all amazing songs. 

Though Life Will Change is my favorite. Seriously, I’ve had that on loop like all day the past three days. like not even gonna lie. That song is fuckin lit. I wished the lyrical version played on every palace instead only the last few. I love it. 

 Anyways now the empty feeling sets in. I felt so connected to the story and all it’s characters so much and now it’s over. :(

Thank you Persona 5 for the best game experience I’ve had in years. If not ever in my 17 years of gaming. Now I can finally have my life back.... for now. Before I start my NG+ playthrough and experience it all over again with better knowledge of everything :D

Ok sorry for my rambling im done now

[noodle-is-gudle]

Here’s Me Bitching: A Master Post

Christmas is just around the corner and, of course, that signals stresses to pop back out of the woodwork. Presents are still to be made and god knows they have to be done perfectly, but I’m just struggling. I’ve been wanting to keep my social down on media for a while and this break I really strive to keep a relaxed mood. The constant bombardment of interactions from people for the last 5 months, plus working, has caused me to want to drop all talking with everyone. Nobody is perfect and everyone is just... ugh right now.  Below this cut, I warn you, is mostly me rambling about my life and whatever fucking stress I’ve dealt with. Also a lot of ranting about parent history. Not looking for an “it will get better” or “sorry hun” kinda thing. I guess I just want to yell into the Tumblr void. 

Maybe I’ve been a bitch on my end with trying to space myself away from everyone, but that doesn’t make the other parties any less guilty of being bitches. If people could just understand that I prefer to be by myself when doing most everything then life would be fucking exceptional, but not everyone grasps that. Even now my phone is exploding with conversations and I just have to turn them off.  It’s gotten me into some trouble, though. I try to make an effort to go and be social, but some people are harder to force yourself to be around than others when you’re already on empty. Those are the people that the very thought of talking to them makes you want to go into a coma for a month just to escape and maybe catch some Z’s.  Traveling has been difficult for me these last three months. The cold doesn’t help, but from the lack of sleep and traveling just about every day to and from the city had left my body weak and my mind frustrated. Everyone... and I mean everyone, was a struggle to keep around. Between going to bed somewhere between 2 AM-5AM, getting up at 5:45 AM, and catching a train for 7 AM, I just found myself becoming more stressed and angrier.  I’m someone who loves to go out and explore. I didn’t get to do that much until I started exploring with my partner, and you better believe I wanted to go adventuring every damn weekend, but as the school year went on and projects became finals, I found myself spending my weekends sleeping and working. No, the cold wouldn’t stop me from exploring, but sleep sure as fuck can. I hadn’t been reaming for WEEKS, and I’m a very elaborate dreamer. Just this week I’ve gained those plot-filled dreams again and that means that I’m caught up enough and not as stressed. I feel alive and refreshed on that note, but I still need a damn break from humans, holy shit.  On the topic of the trouble scene, this has caused some horrid issues with my mother (which is really no surprise if I’ve ever talked to you about her). Now, my mother has been through some shit, ladies and gents. This woman’s back is just a degenerating mess where she has to walk with a walker and she had a stroke just about a year ago. She’s not even 40 yet. Not to mention her husband and “love of her life” has been playing the “leave and come back” chase game so many times I’ve lost count. I’ve seen her lose her mind. I’ve heard her scream about dying, wanting to die, waiting to die, and so forth. I try to make an effort to see her when I can, but school has been worse and worse with the workload due to the classes I want taking (including a costuming class that was about a 6-hour class into the night, taking up a lot of my time). That’s something she doesn’t understand though. That’s where the problem lies. She believes that I can “make time” to text, call, or come down to see her. I could barely find time to sleep or do anything that gave me any sort of happiness by myself. Me time didn’t exactly exist for three months, folks. Not to mention sometimes her texts don’t get through or my phone doesn’t alert me. Me having an android and her having an apple make a connection a little difficult sometimes.  I could very well make time, I guess if I truly wanted to text/ talk on the phone for hours about her and her drama or how she’s constantly sick.  I feel bad that she’s sick, but she never tells me she’s sick until she’s guilting me or wanting me to feel sorry for her. Guess that’s the same thing, actually.  She’s not a saint. She plays mind games and takes joy in it no matter who it is. She has to be right about everything. Now, I’ve tried to get away from these traits that I have picked up from her. I don’t play mind games in the same sense as her and I used to scream a lot about being right when I wasn’t. I think I’m better than I was in high school because I want to actually learn because I make mistakes (a lot of them). The problem is she is my mother, but she’s a bully and bullies her own children. I think a lot of our issues could be solved if she’d listen to my side or my feelings without forcing me to feel another way. She’s kicked me out of her life 3 times now, 2 of which she forced me to come back against my consent to being ready to see her. When I was told I had to go back to her house I cried. I remember crying out of fear until the day I’d get there. And she wouldn’t sit me down with her (I was 16-18 around these times) and talk things out like a mother would. I’d sit in angry silence and she’d have the house dark. She’d move around the room like nothing had happened and start telling me to get over it. Just telling me that I was in the wrong each time for our fights.  I remember the first fight involved her husband (fiance at the time) coming back home after running off to Florida and leaving my mother homeless. She was moved back in with her parents until she had a place of her own again. During the time he was away I was hurt that he’d leave my mother because he didn’t want to live up north. He’s fucking extreme like that. My mom, who had moved out of her parents not that long ago, was now back there and depressed that her lover left her. She threated to throw her engagement ring into the river and wanted to find someone else. I remember messaging him how disgusted I was that he left our family (and it wasn’t the first time he had also left around my birthday once). In my eyes, he was dead to me, so of course, after my mother gets her own place and we make it our own I’m fucking pissed that he’s back and we all act like nothing happened. That was fight number one. A little more on the angry teenager side, but damn, I still feel pretty right on that end for being pissed. I think the reason I was most pissed was that she refused to let me go home until I screamed, thus her calling me a “monster” as she’s talking shit on me in the other room (there are thin walls, I can hear you). I remember for a month I was in a “shut-down” state (which, looking back, was definitely a fit of depression) with my CD player on loop to “Sleep” by MCR. I can’t listen to that song anymore after a month of just that.  Fight #2 happened all because I wanted to go to a birthday party. A friend, I think, was having their 18th on a weekend I was with my mother (custody agreement had my brother and I go over every other weekend). Anytime friends had things going on for the weekend I was at her place she refused to let me go. This weekend wasn’t any different, but for some reason being a senior and having this still happened to me threw me overboard. I don’t remember most of the converstaion, other than me being pissed and her being MORE pissed that I was some sort of horrible child. Again, kicked out of the house for a month and forced back against my will.  Here we are in fight 3. This time I was so calm it’s a weird contrast between my other fights. I think the only reason I’m mad is that this fight had me so upset I had to cancel my plan to go to Cracker Barrel with my partner. YOU DON’T KEEP A BOY AWAY FROM HIS CRACKER BARREL.  Anyway. My mother texts me out of nowhere as I’m ready to take a nap before we go out, “I text you, you never answer”. Now I had texted her Friday when she asked me about coming down for the weekend when I told her I couldn’t because of Christmas shopping (and some other personal matters that kept me from going down). She had invited me to some Christmas party for Saturday night at this... bar club thing? I don’t really know what it is, but I’m not 21 yet and I hate being surrounded by people drinking... But Saturday was a rough day and I knew it would be given the personal matters that were going down on that day unexpectedly, so I had to decline. Being at a place with drinking I don’t think would have been the best environment.  Aparently she texted me on Saturday. A picture of my stepdad singing, I believe. The something about a house? I’m guessing given the text was specifically “the house” it’s either about a new house or our old house that we’re sure was haunted by something. So I feel kinda bad because I don’t know what texts she’s talking about, but then, BUT THEN, before I can text anything about not know what she means by “the house” she texts... “I feel forgotten” “I want to cancel xmas” Hold the phone, honey. You want to cancel Christmas because I didn’t see two texts you sent me that I don’t think I ever got? Well, one, I’m not a small child anymore. Cancelling a holiday I don’t even enjoy isn’t going to make me change my spirits and cling to you like flies on honey. So here we start to have the dramatic shit, which pisses me off to no end, but I stay cool. Gotta stay cool with my partner right next to me.  She clarifies it’s the old house.  Then when I ask her why she wants to cancel she answers that no one comes over or wants to see her. Which, okay, I usually don’t want to go over, but keep in mind finals just ended the friday she originally texted me about coming over. That was my first day of vacation and I was fucking gonna sleep. Not travel in traffic. One FUCKING day to myself is NOT too much to ask when I was in the CITY almost ALL WEEK. Not to mention my brother was over the week before. She then goes to tell me she only bought me one gift, which okay. That’s cool. I only ever give one gift to people and I asked for money this year from people because I don’t have room for things. I’d rather go out to dinner or go see a movie or, I dunno, save up for an apartment.  She goes on to say she hasn’t seen me in a month (finals time, which has been explained to her by countless people) and tells me I stopped caring. Holy shit, here we go with the putting feelings on my character bio. Tries to guilt me by saying my brother cries that he’s lonely (to which I plan to hang with him more during the break) and talks about her husband wanting to move to Florida again which is nothing new it’s all he fucking talks about so just go already???? She tells me how things aren’t the same... Like, yeah Sherlock, your kids are adults and one is in college now. How the fuck were things going to stay the same?  She then goes on to say she’s invited me down many times and that she’s not going to ask me down anymore. See, I find the irony of this being that she kept me away from so many friends that would think the same thing (I invite you over many times and you never come over). She had asked me to come down during the week before Christmas when I’m on break, which I can’t do. I haven’t been able to make any presents during the school year and this week was dedicated to making those (and I have  LOT to make). Keep in mind she also believes that just because my partner can drive, then that means I can come down whenever, which is wrong because what the fuck? He’s not some personal chauffeur for me. I hate to ask him to drive me places. I tell her that I’ll see her Christmas Eve because she’s coming over for Seven Fishes with everyone else. Apparently that hurt her. Now, in this moment, you can see me going through every moment of my life where she hurt me.  This is where I have enough and tell her that I’m not doing this. That I’m not having her guilt me into coming over. That I’ve been busy for months now and the one FUCKING time I was free her husband RUINED THAT BECAUSE HE SCREAMED HORRIBLE SHIT INTO MY BROTHER’S FACE AND TO MAKE IT WORSE MY PARTNER WAS THERE AND HAD TO SEE THAT ALL. HOW FUCKING DARE HE CALL MY BROTHER A “MOTHER FUCKER” AND LATER PERSUADE MY MOTHER THAT HE DID NOTHING WRONG. THE ONE FUCKING TIME I COME OVER, THE LOVE OF YOUR LIFE WHO YOU DO NOTHING BUT CHASE AFTER RUINS THAT SHIT TO WHERE I’M CRYING FOR HOURS FROM PURE EMBARRASSMENT JUST AFTER BEING MAD AT YOU LAST MONTH FOR INSULTING MY RELATIONSHIP, SAYING THAT IT MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE WHEN WE CUDDLE ON THE COUCH NEAR YOU. YOU KNOW WHAT’S UNCOMFORTABLE, MOTHER DEAREST? WATCHING A MAN WALK ALL OVER YOU AND CALL YOU FAT WHEN YOU’RE STARVING. WATCHING A MAN GROPE YOUR ASS RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME. HEARING THE TWO OF YOU BICKER ABOUT MONEY FOR NO FUCKING REASON. WATCHING A MAN REFUSE TO SAY HE LOVES YOU IN FRONT OF OTHER PEOPLE WHEN YOU SAY IT TO HIM. YOU SHOULDN’T HAVE TO BEG FOR LOVE. I’M SCARED OF LIVING WITH PEOPLE BECAUSE OF YOU TWO.  AND DO YOU KNOW WHAT’S THE MOST UNCOMFORTABLE THING ABOUT ABOUT YOUR RELATIONSHIP, MY DEAR SWEET MOTHER? KNOWING THAT ANIMAL HAS YOU WRAPPED AROUND HIS FINGER. THAT “NO” FROM YOU IS SILENT AND YOU CAN’T SAY THAT TO HIM. THAT HE CAN DO WHATEVER HE WANTS TO YOU AND YOUR BODY AGAINST YOUR CONSENT. THAT’S NOT LOVE. THAT’S FUCKING INSANE. I don’t care that you don’t want to chase me, even though you will chase me like all the other toxic fucking people in my life do. I wish you’d get the help you need, but you’re gone. You’re not the mother I loved growing up. You’re not my mother. You’re what he made you. Keeping you in that house by yourself. You sit and rot into a disrespectful monster of human flesh, waiting for the next person to be pissed at who doesn’t agree with your sick, sad, twisted world. You used to care about people. Used to actually smile. But once he came into your life you just degenerated into this sad thing, and I want to help you after all the shit you two have put down on me. Made me see. Made me hear. Made me feel. That part of me that loves you unconditionally wants to help you get the help you need, but you don’t listen. Because you’re right. You’re always right.  Christmas is canceled. Fuck it.