#what verse? au? anything honestly he’s going to hurt himself probably | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tweekfilms · 2 years

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and that’s the way i loved you

here we go… smile!au nation

it was an awkward dinner to say the least

they all sat at the same table to eat and no one said a word to each other and frankly chase was thankful for the silence becaue who knows what words would have been spoken

their parents seemed tired of their silence so they decided to go and start rehersing the dance

“so unexpectedly the choreography changed and so i will have to actually explain this again” alex’s mom frowned at the paper

as of now the current line up was nico and alex front and center with gert and chase to their left and molly and karolina to the right of nico and alex

“well we’re doing rotations and so nico, chase, and molly will be rotating which means after the first verses… nico moves with karolina, chase with alex, and molly with gert” alex’s mom explained

chase froze and he could see karolina about to panic about having to dance with nico for who knows how long

“this isn’t the song you’re dancing to at the wedding but i just chose it to practice” alex’s mom started the music

the familiar tune of taylor swift’s the way i loved you started to play and chase was about to pass out

the dance started out smoothly with everyone trying not to step on anyone’s feet and by the time the chorus started playing… chase found himself dancing with alex

it was probably the most cliche thing ever in the movie and chase well his life was a cliche but alex just smiled at him softly and chase wanted to cry right there

“oh god i miss him… i miss him so much” chase thought

they then did another rotation in which now he danced with karolina and she just looked at him and mouthed

“are you ok”

chase just nodded to reassure her and by the time the song was done, chase excused himself and left

he went into one of the balconies and sat on the chair trying to control his tears from flowing out but he couldn’t

“nice dance skills you have” it was voice that chase had missed too much

“not so bad yourself” chase turned towards alex

“i didn’t step on you or anything” alex’s voice was full of concern

“nope. it was perfect” chase felt a little awkward

after a moment of awkward silence, alex cleared his throat and started speaking

“chase im sorry ive been a jerk to you. the way ive treated you these past months… it wasn’t fair to you and i was just so stressed and confused about this doc and everything that i didn’t notice i was hurting you”

“for what its worth… im sorry too and i had no reason to take out my anger on you but i was just so hurt and upset that it made me want to hate you but i couldn’t. i could never hate you” chase also apologized

“yeah karolina told me that” alex shrugged

“also i shouldn’t have called you a coward” chase added

“no its fine, i deserved it and honestly molly deserved to call me shallow. it opened my eyes a lot” alex just waved off his apology

“i forgave you for a while you know. i just wanted to protect myself by staying angry” chase admitted

“you had every right to do that” alex smiled

“i guess” chase shrugged

“do you think we can start over as friends…. ive just missed you so much and i realized that i need you in my life” alex asked

“of course we can start over besides i was hoping you’d ask” chase teased him

alex just gave him a hug and chase gladly accepted it and then he felt the tears coming in

“hey don’t start getting sentimental on me now” alex laughed softly wiping his tears

“im sorry” chase blushed when he felt alex’s hands on his face

“now if you don’t mind… i want to catch up” alex pulled a chair and motioned for chase to sit with him

maybe things could go back to the way it was just maybe

alex was on cloud nine

he didn’t think chase would forgive him ever for breaking his heart but surprisingly he had and he had forgiven him for a while now

alex was glad they were restarting their friendship again and who knows, he slightly held hope that they could be something more but who knew

it was nice talking again like before, hearing each other laugh and tell stories… it was the most wonderful feeling in the world

but right now, alex tried not to wake up chase who had fallen asleep and had his head on his shoulder

he decided to softly play with his hair for a bit and god was it soft

unfortunately that moment couldn’t last forever because nico came in and when she saw them, she was mad

“what are you two doing” nico demanded

“shit” alex stood up from his chair and in progress woke up chase

“huh? oh…” chase was confused when he woke up but as soon as he saw nico. he grew scared

nico just stormed up to them and alex gasped as he saw nico slap chase

“why do you always meddle in everything” nico asked chase who just grabbed his cheek and excused himself to the bathroom

“what the fuck nico” alex was upset

“when did you two decide to makeup” nico asked

“since today…. ive been wanting to for days now but i knew you wouldn’t like it” alex crossed his arms

“you know how i feel about this” nico shook her head

“i know but at this point… i need to start making decisions that aren’t influenced by anyone and not to please any documentary” alex decided

“im telling everyone” nico just looked back before leaving

“don’t you dare. you can’t be mad about anything besides all chase and i were doing was talking” alex stopped her

“fine i’ll stay quiet but don’t think you’re getting off the hook” nico sighed

they both went back towards the main hall where everyone was waiting and alex wanted to check in on chase but he knew nico would be pissed if he took any longer

so he just opened his phone and texted a simple

“you ok”

he was glad he got a response that said “im good”

it was this moment that he knew that he had to make a decision

he had to choose between going through with this wedding or stopping it because he was no longer into it anymore

“well shit” alex mumbled noticing his dilema

0 notes

xpeachesncream · 4 years

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bands | sixteen

[ series masterlist ]

summary: jeon jungkook has it all: the looks, the fame, the money, the women. being considered the sexiest man in the industry, he finds no complaints about the way his life is going nor does he find any reason to apologize for the way he approaches it. he is a force to be reckoned with - until he meets you.

pairing: stripper!reader x idol!jjk

genre: (18+) strip club/nightlife au, post grad au | fluff, angst, smut

words: 5.0k

warnings: cussing, mature language/implied sexual content, angst, anxiety, alcohol consumption, slight intoxication, physical abuse, slight verbal abuse, belittling, mentions of cuts/wounds but nothing too graphic, mentions of coke

tags: @brightcolorsoffendme @min-nicoleee @eggbutnotyolk @ra-mun-e @miinoongi @jimidol @ppeachyttae @thebeebi @bluesharksandfish @kooafraid @liriaus @thisartemisnevermisses @ggukkieland @preciouschimine @sunniejinnie @cypheruby @cyb3rbab3 @masterlists101 @awhnamjoon @redhedhoseok @wooya1224 @taeismydeath @jikookiekosmos @un2-verse @aynsx @wearenot7withu @knjeuphoria @bringitseijoh (closed!)

Jungkook laid on the dorm couch, legs sprawled out as he wore his hood and covered his face as much as possible. He shut his eyes, trying to make sense of the cryptic texts you had sent him.

"We shouldn't do this anymore."

"I can't do this, Jungkook."

"You don't deserve this."

"I'm only trouble."

"We aren't going to work."

He repeatedly called you, asking for an explanation, a way to help make things better because none of this should have been the reason for you to want to call it 'quits' like that. He asked for you to talk to him. He'd call and after two rings, it'd bring him straight to voicemail. It never failed. Indeed, there was much more to the text but he only fixated on a few lines, and those few lines seem to be circling his head time and time again with no sign of leaving him alone.

"I think I'm falling in too deep and I need to stop this while I can. You hear them, you hear the shit they say. I would never let them ruin you, I don't want them to. You deserve better. Maybe it's true that I don't fit into this."

It frustrates him, every single time. Where the hell did he go wrong? Why was there a sudden change? Something was off, and god forbid if his assumptions were right. But, everything was leading right back to it. The way you called in sick, the way you shut everyone out. The way you texted him these things, wouldn't pick up his calls just to tell him you're busy or whatever the hell it was. It didn't sound like you. It didn't seem like you at all.

All things led right back to the club. To Bigs. Where you felt high and mighty. Wanted. Like no one could ever hurt you the way they did outside of the club because they worshipped you in there. They knelt down to you. The way you were so fucking tough there. He knew this is where you would fall back if things got rough. He couldn't help but think that you had been forced into it though, because he knew you didn't give a shit about that anymore. Ah well, forced or not, it just felt so off. Unusual.

"Hey." Namjoon sits on the floor near Jungkook's head. "You good?" He asks even though he's fully aware he's not. Joon hates those people who ask if something's wrong when clearly, something is wrong — however, he wasn't really sure how else to open up this conversation without coming off too pushy or forward. Too insensitive, even.

"Nope."

"What's going on?" Jungkook sighs as he tries to lower his hood even more, although there's no more of his hood to lower. He keeps his hand on his face, trying his hardest to keep himself together.

"I don't know." Now, going back to earlier — everyone can tell Jungkook isn't happy. They've tried to butter him up and make him feel better even though they knew you were the only person who could truly make him happy again. They've tried to talk to him in one way or another, but they never forced him if he didn't want to. The only person that really hasn't said much was Jimin, and that also pisses him off because if he had anything to do with this, he will surely fuck him up for ruining his happiness.

"You hear from Y/N? She still sick? Does she need anything?"

"She's not sick."

"Hm?" Joon slightly turns back, confused.

"Something else is wrong."

"Like what?"

"She's not picking up my calls. Not answering my texts the way she normally does. When she does, it's super blunt or one worded."

"Maybe she's really not feeling well, or just caught up with things—"

"No, hyung. I know her, she always has her priorities straight. Even if she was sick, she wouldn't do this. She wouldn't go as far as to shutting her own brother out."

"Idol life too overwhelming? I get it." Jimin jokes as he walks into the kitchen, making Jungkook shoot his head up to glare at him.

"The fuck, can you not? I don't see why you feel the need to joke around right now."

"Jeez, sorry. I just thought I'd lighten up the mood somehow."

"Come on, dude." Namjoon looks at him with disappointment, Jimin only returning the gesture by rolling his eyes and walking away. "How can I help you?" Joon asks, returning his attention back to Jungkook.

"Maybe I was being selfish bringing her into all of this. These people— they're fucking mean, and she's already had her fair share of dealing with mean people. How am I supposed to protect her all while not feeling selfish about it?"

"You're not selfish, who told you that?"

"Jimin." That's like strike.. whatever to Namjoon at this point. Why the hell was Jimin being so fucking weird?

"Look, I know it's not easy in this industry. But I think what you can do is prove to her that you won't hurt her, especially with everyone around her doing nothing but hurting her. You need to show her that you're different from the rest of them, that she can fully trust you. If I were in her shoes, to be honest, it would be scary for me. You got a whole lot of shit going on in your life. You're expected to provide a lot, and on top of that, you haven't had the best reputation with women."

"Yeah, I hear you."

"Then, nothing else matters. You keep fighting for her if she really matters to you. Does she?"

"Of course she does, I mean, can't you tell? I've never been this way over someone." Joon nods.

"You sure as fuck haven't. It still catches me and the guys by surprise. But, I'm happy to see someone helping you become a better person. She's been nothing but genuinely sweet, and I know she already does a hell of a job taking care of you."

"She's— I don't know. She's become so important to me."

"I know she has, and I'm happy to hear that. I really am." Joon sighs. "So tell me, what can I do? I hate seeing you like this."

"Well, I'm sure as hell not allowed at the club. Bigs will do anything to get back at me for what I did to him. He won't hesitate."

"I won't let him. We won't. You really think she went back?" Jungkook nods.

"Positive. Something doesn't feel right. It feels weird. And I feel like she was egged into this. I don't like it one bit."

"Want me to go check out the club tonight?"

"Yeah, please?" Jungkook says. "But don't be too obvious. Bring Jin hyung or someone who could use a lap dance or two."

"Sooo Jin hyung?" They chuckle.

"Yeah, exactly."

"And if she's there?"

"Then I'm going straight to her tomorrow night. I just need to make sure I do this right because I don't want her or Kai to get hurt. I'll stay out there if I have to just to make sure she doesn't go back. What else do I have to do—" Jungkook pauses to stop himself because this clearly wasn't you. He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. "Who the fuck made her do this?"

"Bigs, who else?"

"No, she wouldn't listen to just Bigs. He's definitely working with someone and using shit against her."

"Okay, let's just not assume the worst. I'll head there tonight and drag Jin hyung with me."

"Thanks hyung, I really appreciate it."

"No problem." Joon gently massages his shoulder before getting up from his spot to make his way back to his room.

All Jungkook can think about doing is sleeping more right now. He'll send the occasional text to check on Kai and see how he was doing, but they both worried too much about you and Jungkook would hate to tell him that you ended up going back to the club. He didn't think he would tell him, he didn't think he'd have to because he was gonna make sure to get you out of there before shit hit the roof again. If it hasn't already, and he's hoping it hasn't.

And so when Namjoon and Jin hyung [obviously in need of that lap dance or two] head out to the club, Jungkook stays in his dorm room, suddenly feeling the adrenaline rushing through his body even though he can't do shit besides sit here and wait. He goes through the random pictures he's taken of you - the cute, candid photos he had of you, the cute candid photo of you as his lock screen. He deletes all the texts in his inbox even though he knows it might have been a little late. It honestly hasn't mattered to him in such a long time, but he just never got around to wiping his inbox clean since he was so caught up with you - his baby.

"Is this going to turn into some kind of action movie? We bust through the doors, take down all the guards and steal Y/N?"

"No, hyung. Jesus. Do you forget you're an idol? That's probably the very last thing we should do."

"So, what do we do?"

"We just walk in there like we normally do?"

"Boring."

"Plus, we can't have Bigs onto us like that. We have to act like we don't know anything."

"Do you really think he's using something against her?"

"I don't know. I have to be honest though, I think Jimin's involved."

"W-what?" Jin says, furrowing his brows. "No, he can't be."

"Trust me. He always acts so weird around her, and he's probably the one person who hasn't taken this as seriously. He hasn't said anything to Jungkook."

"But why though?"

"I don't know, beats me. I just don't think he respects her. Or, likes her. Whatever it is."

"She hasn't done anything to him though."

"That makes it worse, doesn't it?"

"How could you be so sure?"

"Look hyung, I'm not. I just think he's involved. My gut says so. We'll find out whether I'm right or not, right?"

"I hope you aren't. That'll really mess Kookie up."

"Well. I love him, but he'll have to learn the hard way for butting into someone else's business like that. No matter what the reason is." Namjoon parks the car and fixes his rolled up sleeves before adjusting the Rolex on his wrist. He looks at Jin once more, nodding in approval once they both feel like they've fixed themselves enough to look presentable, not questionable.

Meanwhile, you had just finished up your time on stage so you headed to the back to take a break. Bigs hadn't given you the option to secure private bookings knowing damn well there would be opportunity for Jungkook and some of his boys to slip through and try to work their magic in private. As much as possible, you were just trying to protect Jungkook, even though you knew he wouldn't back down without a fight. You knew Bigs wasn't all that tough, but right now, he seemed to hold a lot of power with Jimin being on his team. And you knew damn well it was Jimin all along. Did you have concrete evidence? No. But your gut feeling might as well be enough with the way he talks to you. Why else would Bigs all of a sudden feel all mighty? Bigs had threatened Jungkook and your brother enough to keep your mouth shut. Enough to keep your attitude level at a 0.

The scene played in your head over and over again—

"I gave you a better life, you ungrateful piece of shit. You do as I say and your little Jungkook and your little Kai won't get hurt. You think I'm scared of them, sweetie? You think I'm scared of you? Your stepfather don't give a damn about you two. I can easily send my men down to do their magic, especially after how Jungkook treated me. Is that how he repays me after all the special treatment I've given him?" Mr. Bigs hunched over you. "You two wanna play me like a fool, I'll show you two what it's like to be played like a fool." He pulled on your hair before aggressively releasing and spitting to the side.

There was no way they would get dragged into this. Not anymore. They didn't deserve to be included in this no matter what it was.

Boy, did you miss Jungkook. Everything about him. It took everything in you not to come running back. It took everything in you not to answer those calls or texts like you normally would.

You chose him, every single time. You wish he knew that. Him and Kai.

You sighed, sipping on the flask you snuck in. The alcohol relieving you of any pain, helping you feel numb as the night goes on. You didn't want to feel tonight, you just didn't. Why would you, when everything had just been hurting you lately?

You had just finished dancing out on the main stage, throwing your ass back to some Megan and Cardi. A few other dancers were gathered at a vanity, sneakily sniffing lines of coke while Bigs and his men were busy paroling the main stage.

"You want some of this, sis? In celebration of you coming back?" One of the other dancers smirks at you. You simply shake your head no and return to the flask in your hand.

"I'm good, thank you."

"Alright, well it's here if you want it. Just let me know, babe." Her and the other dancers go back to their business on the vanity. However, another dancer continues to eye you, sympathy filling her expression as she approaches you while you sip on your flask once more. You were starting to feel pretty tipsy again, hoping you could just hide out in the back 'till the very end of your shift.

"Y/N." She says, her hand gently on your arm. "You okay?"

"I'm good." You purse your lips together to prevent yourself from tearing up. Those words were triggering for you because you were not okay, whatsoever.

"Why did you come back, babe?" She genuinely asks, worried about you. "Did Bigs do something?"

"No." You lied. "Things just didn't work out elsewhere I guess, and I need money."

"Didn't work out? I saw the way Jungkook handled Bigs that night." If anything, she was probably the one dancer who paid attention to the environment around her. Everyone else was oblivious to the shit that's been happening and that's because they didn't give a fuck about anyone else. Her stage name was Trixie, but her real name was Miki. She too didn't really enjoy being here but her parents talked so much about how she was useless and couldn't make it out in the world, especially as a vlogger. She loved it. She loved being in front of the camera and talking to the world thru the lens. But her parents thought it was dumb— that she was dumb for even wanting to grow a career online like that. Besides all of it, she remained sweet, and she was always super nice to you. You wouldn't be surprised if she knew about you and Jungkook, and you honestly wouldn't have a problem with it. She never treated you wrong. She knew Bigs had a tendency to overstep and abuse the power he had with his status and his money. However, she knew he was a big coward and that he was all talk, no play — especially if it was outside of the club. He may be a big honcho here, but outside, he had no chance. And she couldn't wait until the day he'd get his for all the mess he's caused.

"Yeah well, things happen." She shakes her head.

"Y/N, you can talk to me. Look, as much as I love seeing your face, you have so much potential. You don't deserve to be stuck here. Let me help you figure this out."

"I'm okay, Miki. Thank you, though." She nods, not wanting to press you any further.

"Well, I'm here for you." She gives your arm one good squeeze before walking off.

Eventually, the rest of the dancers retreat back out onto the floor, leaving you to hide away in the back room as long as possible — which is why Namjoon can't get a glimpse of you anywhere out in the main area. Bigs is actually a little taken aback to see both him and Jin walking through the club, even after everything that has gone down. But hey, business is business— and if they weren't gonna cause any trouble, so be it. He knows though, he knows full well there's a possibility they're here for you.

"Boys! Long time no see!" He greets them, Joon and Jin giving him a toothless smile in return. "How've you been? What brings you in?"

"Mr. Bigs." Namjoon says, smoothing down his shirt. "Ah, we're good, just getting busy prepping for the tour. Wanted to take a little breather tonight."

"Well, I'm glad you guys came here to do so. Can I get you two anything to drink?" The both of them shake their heads. "Anything to help relieve that stress?"

"We're good, thanks. Just gonna sit out on the floor for a bit."

"You two let me know if there's anything I can do for you, at all." Bigs smiles at them as he begins to watch them walk away. "Make sure she's covered." Bigs slightly turns his head to speak through the headset mic, alerting his men to keep an eye out. He thinks he's said it low enough so that Jin and Namjoon don't hear, but Jin catches the movement in his peripherals, causing him to pinch Joon's bicep.

"Back room." Jin says, subtly nodding towards the backroom as he keeps his gaze out on the main stage and adjusts his tie. Namjoon looks around to see Bigs has welcomed himself to the other side of the club, speaking to a few customers, looking distracted.

"I'm gonna go see if I can talk to her."

"Talk?! You said we were just scoping her out. Don't cause any trouble, Namjoon-ah. Please."

"Oh, now you suddenly don't want this action movie to come alive?! You sure were talking a whole lot about it in the car."

"Since when do you even take me seriously?!"

"I always take you seriously, hyung!"

"How about you just sneak towards the back door and get her attention? You said we can't go all out like that!"

"There's guards there too."

"Look, I just don't want you or Y/N to get hurt. Maybe we should just lay low and figure out how we can approach this better."

"Hey, can I get you two anything?" Miki interrupts, fully aware of who they are and what they're here for.

"No, sweetie. Thank you." Jin responds, flashing his 100-watt smile.

"You looking for Y/N?"

"Depends who's asking?" Namjoon says, trying to keep his guard up.

"Look, I'm not gonna rat you out if that's what you think." She puts her hand on her hip, tray still balancing on her free hand. "She's in the backroom. But there's no way you can get to her. Bigs is watching her for whatever reason."

"Yeah, we're aware. Can you send her a message for me?"

"Sure. You have 10 seconds though or else Bigs is gonna be onto you." She points towards Bigs slowly making his way back.

"Just tell her that Jungkook is worried about her and wants to help. Or, we want to help. We just wanna know what's going on."

"I'll try, but she didn't let up when I asked earlier."

"Thanks." Joon sighs.

"Shoo, I'll find you guys around." She says, sneakily walking off towards the bar with her empty tray as Bigs starts to eye the main floor. Jin and Namjoon welcome themselves to a seat on the side of the stage, acting normal as possible by throwing bills onto the stage for the dancers. Miki tends to her customers before she's setting her tray down and pretending to take a cigarette from her bra to take a quick "break." She heads to the back to see you still sitting at your vanity, head resting against the palm of your hand.

"Babe." You turn to look at her, eyes slightly glossed over.

"Hm?"

"RM and Jin are here. They said they want to help you, and if you can tell them anything, that's all they'd want."

"Miki—"

"Girl, look. Don't let this man keep running your life like this. I don't care what he said or did, this isn't you. You need to get out of here and you need to let people in. People who genuinely care about you." You sigh.

"How is that possible when Jungkook's own bestfriend doesn't even like me? And ontop of that, Bigs even dragged my little brother and my evil ass stepfather into this. I can't let anything happen to him, he's the only thing I have."

"I get that, and I'm sure Jungkook will do whatever it takes to protect you both. Why are RM and Jin here then? Whatever Jungkook's other friend's issue is, he needs to figure it out. It's obviously his own problem, something he created himself for no reason."

"I know he's helping Bigs keep me away from Jungkook. All the hurtful shit in the media, all the shit he's been tossing in my face. Whatever, I get it. He wins. I don't belong."

"Don't say that."

"It's true, and I know even if I chose Jungkook, he'd choose his bestfriend over me. Why would he go against that? They've been together for so long. I'm a fucking nobody." Miki knows this is all the alcohol running through your veins, but at least now, she knows Bigs isn't doing this on his own [as she assumed, he's a fucking pussy for the most part - he's a pussy who got handsy with the dancers cause that's all he can do to feed his ego].

"I don't think that's true, and I don't think it's a fair assumption when he's stayed by your side, hasn't he? He hasn't given up on you." She says before walking out. Really, things were just completely scrambled in your head. Just fucked up. Your questions, your uncertainty was strong enough to pull you towards the negative - the what if's, the assumptions, the rumors, the shit-talking. After all that, the positives were dim.

Miki grabs her tray and serves the first couple of customers in dire need of their drinks before she heads over to Jin and Namjoon to spill the information she received from that conversation.

"She won't budge. It sounds like a lot of this shit talking got to her head, so she came back to make herself feel better but then Bigs ended up turning this around on her, threatening Jungkook and her brother. If I were you, I'd get Jungkook to her before she can even come back here. Make sure her brother is with him too. Bigs is all talk but being the guys that you are — I wouldn't take any chances to ruin your reputation and all that." She smacks on her gum. "And I hate to tell you this, but one of your little friends has been working with Bigs. I don't know who, but you better let that little shit know he was wrong for getting in her head like that. She deserves way better." She says with a punch of attitude before walking away.

"Jimin?" Jin mouths out to Namjoon, who only shrugs in response.

"Let's go." Namjoon tosses a couple of more bills before they head out.

"Have a good evening, boys." Bigs yells out, causing the two of them to return a tight-lipped smile.

"Are we going to tell Kookie about Jimin?"

"No? Because we don't even know ourselves. His name was never dropped, and we'll look dumb if we acted on assumptions."

"This is so fucked up." Jin sighs, looking out the window.

"You're telling me."

When they finally arrive back at the dorm, Namjoon and Jin find Jungkook pacing around in his room, tossing a rubber ball against the wall to keep himself occupied. His doe eyes dart over to them, letting the ball drop to the floor while he nervously walks closer to them.

"So?"

"I'm sorry, dude." Joon sighed. "From what it sounds like, all this mess just got to her head so she went back to the club to make herself feel better. But Bigs ended up bringing you and her brother into the situation so, I'm assuming she's distancing herself to protect you in some way?" Namjoon runs his hand through his hair. "Honestly, I really don't know, that's as much as we got."

"We didn't even talk to her or see her, some other dancer helped us out. I guess she's a friend of hers? Or maybe she just likes Y/N. She wanted to help." Jin says.

"Fuck!" Jungkook groans, slamming his hand down onto his bed. "Why couldn't she just talk to me? We could have figured this out."

"Look, I'm sure there's a lot more to it and I'm sure it's difficult for her. Promise me you'll hear her out when you see her."

"I mean, yeah I know, I will. But, how did this get to her head so easily? I really can't wrap my head around it, I—" He catches how tense Joon and Jin suddenly get. He watches them nervously looking at each other, making him cock his head to the side and furrow his brows. "Wait, what is it? You know something else, don't you?"

"I mean there's really no concrete facts behind it so we can't necessarily say it's true."

"Well?" Jungkook asks, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles are turning white. But, before they could go any further, Jungkook's ringtone echos in the room. He quickly turns in case it's you calling, but he picks up anyway because it's someone equally as important.

"Kai?"

"C-can you come pick me up? My sister isn't picking up. I'll send you Eric's address." Jungkook worries when he hears the shakiness in his voice, his tone low to a whisper.

"Yeah, sit tight. I'll be right there." He hangs up, darting out of his room, Namjoon and Jin following after him.

"Where are you going?"

"I need to get to Kai."

"Let us come with!"

"Look, it'll be quicker if I go myself—"

"Jungkook-ah, stop. We're not gonna let you go alone." Joon and Jin make it just in time to join him in the elevator, heading straight for his car even if it's nearing 1am. Jungkook pulls up Kai's location, pressing on the gas to rush over there just in case Kai was hurt. And yes, Jungkook was going to give it to your fucking stepfather if he sees anything on Kai. He will fucking destroy him, he promises.

Jungkook, Namjoon and Jin walk into the house quietly, seeing Kai putting his finger up to his lips when he meets them near the kitchen.

"What happened?" Jungkook whispers, handing his bags over to Namjoon and Jin. Jungkook looks at the small hint of blood pooling near his nostrils and the cut near his eyebrow.

"I'll explain in the car, can you just take me to—"

"Really? Calling your sister's boyfriend and his friends over to save you? You really are a helpless little shit." Namjoon, Jin and Jungkook are all shielding each other and Kai from Eric, Jungkook's blood boiling seeing him standing there, clearly very drunk and not in the right state of mind.

"Aye, don't fucking talking to him like that." Jungkook's spits out, making Eric laugh.

"First you fall for my slut of a daughter, now you help rescue him? I thought you were so much better than that, Jungkook. You aren't the person people portrayed you to be. Shittiest idol I know. All of you."

"You don't know me." Eric snorts.

"You guys do know I help sponsor your shit right? I play a big role for you, don't come into my house acting like—" He slurs his words.

"Yeah, well fuck the contract." Namjoon's jaw clenches. "Better yet, don't fucking worry about it, I'll make sure to take care of it for you."

"You need me." Eric says, almost at a growl. "You need me and Bigs—"

"Since when?" Namjoon responds in a mocking manner as he begins to usher Jin, Jungkook and Kai towards the front door. "If you wanna send your people over, you can let them know I'm free tomorrow in the late afternoon. I'll be more than happy to tell 'em what kind of sick person you are."

"You can't just take him—" Eric tries to flip the script, obviously unaware that Kai has already turned 18. He grips onto Kai's arm and tries to pull him back, except he's intoxicated, so Jungkook easily pushes him off. He watches as Eric hits a bar stool, stumbling over himself before he drunkily falls on his ass.

"You're such a sad excuse of a stepfather, you aren't even aware he's 18 already. He doesn't need you." Jungkook scoffs. "I'm gonna send people for the rest of Kai's shit tomorrow. And let's get this straight - we never needed you or Bigs. You both aren't shit without us and yout fucking empire thrives because of us. And if you do anything to Y/N, if you even think about working with Bigs on doing anything to her, I fucking promise you I will bury you alive. I won't stop until you have nothing left. Don't underestimate me."

youtube

everybody's angry and they're coming for me, but i can't give them energy that i won't receive; so i brush 'em off, i got a lot on my sleeve, like i'm moving backwards, but it's all on repeat; this place is getting crowded, i got no room to breathe

track twelve: hundred - khalid

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actualbird · 3 years

Text

hey here are some assorted marius/luke ideas that swam around in my head today

wc: 1.3k

contents: 2 of these r kindaaaa smut ideas (and they r marked in the subheader) but i dont put anything detailed explicit, read at ur own risk and choice ig

luke pearce's love language is beating up everybody in stellis who even looks at marius wrong

sorta comedy fic where everybody marius even offhandedly mentions is giving him a hardtime mysteriously ends up in the hospital like, the day after he brings it up.

nobodys dead! but after that person recovers, they keep a wide wide berth from marius, shudders to even think of crossing him again lest that terrifying red eyed force of nature comes back for them and finishes the job.

and marius is like Yeah, Okay, I Think I Know Who's Doing This because luke isnt subtle LMAO. marius is endeared that luke responds to his flirting by blushing and leaving the room immediately but anytime marius is like "ugggghhh, [insert poor shmuck] is really on my ass," luke's expression goes dark. next day, the said poor shmuck in the hospital from both shoulders dislocated, like luke is leaving injured dickbags on marius' doorstep much like a cat would do but this cat is a tad unhinged.

marius eventually confronts luke like "babe, i really appreciate it, but also stop, and can we kiss?" and then they kiss and luke promises to hurt ppl a little bit less.

.....just a smidge.

(kinda smut) au where marius is a model and luke is a photographer

comedy that turns into smut maybe because i cant stop thinking about SR Dreams Of Thebes. i want sexy hot model marius and every single photoshoot hes ever done has had him in some state of undress. when he accepts jobs hes like "can my tits be out? even just slightly?" and if hes told no hes like "awwww, boring! thanks for the offer but i'll pass."

luke is the photographer and hes a very good photographer that marius has worked with a LOT. because mc handles the projects luke does and is friends with marius and a lot of her projects just so happen to need a slutty mcthot, so they collab very often.

theyve worked together so much to the point that luke seems to be used to marius being Like That (gorgeous and on display and making bedroom eyes RIGHT AT LUKE and luke has to always remind him "eyes on the camera, not on me!") and marius is like WHYYYY WHYYYY DOESNT HOT PHOTOGRAPHER LUKE PEARCE SUCCUMB TO MY NUBILE CHARMSSSSS

he complains to mc and shes like there there ya big baby. and she pointedly does not tell marius that whenever a shot finishes up, luke goes home IMMEDIATELY, as he is very flustered. it's honestly impressive how unaffected luke makes himself seem because once marius is getting dressed luke is like "I HAVE TO GO" and mc has a suspicion that luke, er, lets out his frustrations the moment he gets home.

she does not tell marius because this is very entertaining. but also because these two are idiots and if theyre gonna get together, they should be the ones doing the work. shes setting up the situations already, the least they could do is actually talk smh

eventually they do talk. but in a convoluted setup where marius asks luke to do a, er, private photoshoot for him. cue sensual photography at marius' art studio (he still paints in this au) where marius starts off fully clothed!! but after every 10 pics hes like okay lets take this off and this off and thiiiiiissss

luke pearce: //horny grip

and then they bang about it

(kinda smut) marius: should i be turned on by that? probably not. will that stop me? definitely not.

smut fic. luke very viciously dispatches a person who tried to hurt marius and marius is like "well mark me down as scared and horny" and they bang about it----wait, hold up. i can do this. in my bodyguard au verse. penning THAT down in my possible extras fics HAHA.

but yeah luke is like "WAIT, WHY??? WHY IS THIS WHAT GETS U HOT AND BOTHERED??? (in addition to literally everything else that gets you hot and bothered, it's a very long list, like, luke could just be stretching in the morning and marius wants to pounce)." marius like "why r u complaining, u get my hot bod, i get ur hot bod, this is a win win situation" and honestly! luke cant argue with that!

and so they bang about it

it is nacho lucky day

comedy fic AGAIN sorta recycled from a fic i was writing for a prev fandom. marius is off to a movie date with luke when he gets kidnapped which, worrying!

but these kidnappers are hugely incompetent and marius is hugely just sorry for them and tries to tell them "guys, really, let me go. i can see you're not actually up for this and also, uh, not great at it! and i can help you guys out a little bit. but you should deffo let me go because i was on my way to a date and you do not wanna make my boyfriend mad. SERIOUSLY. IM TRYING TO SAVE YOU GUYS."

and the kidnappers r like nope not happening.

cue Luke Pearce Raven swooping in, knives blazing, and marius is like "BABE, NO, STOP, THEY DIDNT HURT ME AT ALL AND ALSO THEYRE STUPID" and luke is like "oh okay!" //drops the terrified kidnapper who he was holding up against the wall by his collar. luke whisks marius off to their date after a stern "dont you dare do that again" to the kidnappers.

and then marius and luke go get their nachos and watch that stupid movie together

can we get some neko and dog boys in here? can we PLEASE get some neko and boys in here?

crack treated seriously, comedy, everything is normal but for some whatever reason, marius and luke wake up one day with some new parts. marius has got kitty ears and a tail, luke has got fluffy pointed dog ears and tail.

they are not dating, still pining in this fic, and luke is in agony because every time marius talks to him or even LOOKS AT HIM, luke cant stop his tail from wagging vigorously. at some point, luke just turns to look at his butt and scolds his tail "can you PLEASE STOP GIVING ME AWAY????"

the tail does not listen

marius is mostly unaffected because hes always been an attention whore and whatever emotions the new parts give away were already pretty obvious. he is a bit embarrassed tho that his ears perk up WAYYYY too excited whenever luke walks into a room like. come on, hes tryna be SEXY ALOOF.

actually, to add onto the comedy, mc curiously brings a laser pointer to hq and is like. "huh, i wonder if this will work on you guys."

marius: psssshhhh, i doubt it

luke: yeah, the new parts havent given us any behavioral changes or anything so---

mc: //turns on the laser pointer

marius and luke: //IMMEDIATELY BOLT TO THE FUCKING WALL TO PAP PAP PAP IT

the chaos leads to luke and marius colliding, resulting in them on a heap on the floor, marius on top of luke. theyre having a moment, eyes dart to each others' lips and---

laser pointer at the wall, marius frigging SCRAMBLES TO CATCH IT. luke very softly whining because NOOOOO, COME BACK, I LOVE YOUUUUUUUUU

they get their acts together soon tho and they still have the animal parts and when they cuddle, luke's tail is wagging and marius' tail is swishing contentedly and is marius purring? oh god thats so cute luke is going to die

i have a lot of thoughts

#tears of themis #marius von hagen #tot marius #tot luke #luke pearce #mariluke #marluke

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shtern-and-art · 3 years

Note

I have more questions because it's no longer 4am lmao.

Does Skeppy fear any animals? I just wanna know if there's any sweet moments of Skeppy clinging to Bad whilst he tries to calm him down.

I'm guessing Bad still hates things like littering and woodcutters but would he ever act particularly strongly about it or would he have more control?

I like how Rat seems to tolerate Skeppy because Bad likes him but would she ever get jealous if Skeppy started pettting another dog?

I have a horrifying image of Bad just spider climbing up a tree to fetch Skeppy. I don't know why but I feel like dude wouldn't even need branches lmao.

What other supernatural creatures/people do they come across? Were there any that were especially dangerous and did they befriend any?

Is Bad much physically stronger than Skeppy? I keep thinking of Skeppy being a little shaz and Bad just one-arm picking him up and slinging him over his shoulder XD.

Does Bad ever get nightmares of the day he became the forest spirit?

How far would Skeppy take stealing? Would he steal something he knows the owner has genuine attachment to? Would he do everything in his power to steal something for Bad even if it means getting hurt?

Who's more likely to protect the other?

Skeppy just minding his business looking at one of Bad's textbooks, turns his head and Bad's just having a tea party with a freaking bear. Surprised the man hasn't had a heart attack yet XD.

What's your favourite thing to imagine them doing?

Is Bsd an adrenaline junky? Or is he scared of more dangerous things like bungee jumping and mountain climbing.

What would their reactions be to rollercoasters?

Do they have a favourite date-night activity?

Everytime I think of this au it brightens my mood!! Thank you for making something so heartwarming!! <3

Glad to see you again :D And yaay, questions!

My pen pressure broke again, I can't finish any sketches for this ask rn, but here's a couple of old messy designs.

1) Comforting and nightmares

Skeppy has a normal, I’d even say adequate level of fear towards wild animals, whilst Bad has it in negative numbers. And, yes, this fun juxtaposition leads to a lot of unfortunate moments of Skeppy nearly dying from heart attack when some of Bad’s animal friends show up unexpectedly, or Bad goes all out for his tea-parties with wild bears or smth.

So, yes, sometimes the comforting hugs are necessary! And no, none of them ever play up the dramaticness of the situation just to drag out the nice comforting moment They do n o t. That’d be very silly and unnecessary, and will deserve a lot of teasing. So, it’s all serious. Not only for the first couple minutes. Yes.

But If you’re looking for comfort-after-actual-hurt – Bad does have to hold and comfort Skeppy, when the stress of trying to not fuck up the good stuff around him gets too strong. And after the nightmares where they are hated and chased by people. Those dreams do not come often, but when they do, Bad is there to hold Skeppy, whisper in his hair that he is alright, that they’re both alright, and that they can handle everything that’s going on right now.

And Bad himself, well. After leaving the town, his nightmares about the night of the ritual stopped almost completely. They come rarely, only when the anxiety gets really bad. Before, in the forest, Bad had them pretty often. It’s one of the reasons he mostly slept not as himself, but in the minds of the animals.

2) Littering

Bad will not maim someone for not getting a candy wrapper in a trashcan, especially if there are people around. But if someone leaves a big mess in the nature, or even (*gasp*) does it regularly, Bad can and will try and teach them a lesson. As in: pull a cautionary (and probably slightly terrifying) prank on the misbehaving person.

It doesn’t always work out as Bad intended, and may even scare some people off anything relating to nature for good, but, according to Bad, it’s still “a fun and useful little hobby to have :3”.

3) Rat

Rat takes a looong time to warm up to any other animals that infringe on her territory. And Skeppy might be a little shit (and his own rights for Bad are debatable) but he is Rat’s territory still (by approximation from Bad). So, she can gatekeep Skeppy a little bit. Not as much as she does Bad, but the man gotta know his place – Rat comes before other dogs for him too.

4) Tree climbing and strength

Oh, Bad can an will climb down a tree like a full-on creepy creature he is: head down, using only his claws, with Skeppy tucked under one arm. Maybe not even upside down, if Skeppy is lucky, and wasn’t too annoying about wanting to stay up on the tree for the night :D

5) Meeting other spn creatures

Oh, that’s a big question (: Yes, they do meet other cryptids, befriend some, and get in trouble with some, and deal with a handful of new and old spn troubles :D

I always thought that Bad and Skeppy’s life after the main story can make a series of short stories (or one big episodic one) dealing with exactly that: the guys traveling around, meeting other cryptids, learning more about themselves and the world, trying to build a life between human and supernatural crisis going on. Just like In The Dark it can based on the mix between the real life and the minecraft-verse events.

I wanted to focus more on finishing the main story first, though, so these stories are not as sought through, I didn’t even write down any of them yet :D

But if you have more concrete questions, ideas, or suggestions (about a specific person, or a specific thing happening) – write me, I’ll think about it, and how it can work with the theme and worldbuilding I have in mind.

6) Stealing + Protectiveness

Skeppy can sometimes forget about, ahem, moral principles, or human decency… emphasis oh “human”. He’s nature and different worldview it gives, it seeps through in his life and actions even more with age. Especially after he’s been away from actual people for a long while. So, I guess, he might at times steal something that is very important to someone, or do something that could be considered weird or rude in general.

And if Bad really needs something, or is in danger – all rules are down. If there is no one to reality check Skeppy, he might proceed to walk on heads, and commit risky and reckless crimes just to help or save Bad.

They both are quite bad with that, the protecting each other thing. Bad, tho, can be more fiscally violent in his protectiveness.

7) Adrenaline and rollercoasters

Well, it’s not that Bad likes adrenaline specifically, he’s just very curious, likes to try new things, and is almost unkillable. So he can just- just go for everything that’s interesting for him with reckless abandon, and if it goes wrong – welp. Bones can heal limbs can regrow, and the cool abandoned caves will not explore themselves. He’ll have to learn to ease up with lack of selfcare though. Because Bad can’t always leave Skeppy to fend for himself, while he heals, and Skeppy does NOT like seeing Bad getting hurt so much, and not caring about himself at all.

This probably comes back to Bad dealing with his spn nature and learning to make peace between it and himself. And to his anxiety, and unhealthy coping mechanisms.

And hey, it’s the same for Skeppy and his lack of adequate moral compass at times :D

There will be a lot of tension and growing they’d have to do in regards to all this.

Also Skeppy is the one who’s really into chasing the thrills :D Man spent nearly half a year annoying probably-murderous-forest-spirit just for little not-boring fun, jeez :DD

Rollercoasters are a no go, tho. They go up in the air, real high, and, once again, Skeppy and highs do not mix, they do not mingle, they will not have tea parties (with or without bears). Unless, of course, Skeppy really needs to prove something. Then he’ll go on a ride, and die an honorable death, and will never admit he screamed all the way through it.

8) Dates

(*insert an innuendo from Skeppy here*) But, ahm, actually I’d say they love going on picnics: getting food, and hanging around in the nature for a while.

And I honestly donno what I like to think about the most… I just really enjoy the vibe and the atmosphere of the whole story, and how Bad and Skeppy interact in general.

It all is a real delight to write about :D

---

In The Dark - masterpost

#mcyt #mcyt fanart #badboyhalo #skeppy #skephalo #In The Dark #shtern talks #.....#dang i talk a lot don't i #:DDDD #but really #getting these asks getting to write more about this AU - always makes my day

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veliseraptor · 4 years

Note

hi so i was Thinking about the yi city crew (as you do) and i was wondering: under slightly different circumstances in which xxc realizes xy's identity right when he finds him in the ditch (and there are many ways that could happen honestly), would things still go well for them?

because on the one hand, 1) xxc would never leave a severely wounded person to die and 2) xxc is cannonically fine with crime as long as you're cute (a-qing and the vegetable stall moment with xy), which can result in a slow-burn, enemies-to-lovers situation (good luck for everyone involved when song lan arrives and realizes his best friend and ex boyfriend slept with the guy who killed his temple)

but on the other hand, when xxc finds xy in the ditch he's just had a very, VERY nasty breakup with his boyfriend because of the hooligan currently lying in the ditch so????

AND it all relies on whether or not xy knows that xxc knows who he is, me thinks, so???????

what? are your thots? on this?

my initial thought is “this sounds like a fantastic au and I know I’m not the only one who thinks so because I have seen a couple variants of this on ao3, some of which I’ve read and others of which I haven’t.”

because yeah, this is one of those ones where Xiao Xingchen like. runs headlong into a moral dilemma. because you’re right! he can’t leave him to die, that is just...not something he can do. actively cannot make that one work with his sense of what is right and just. so his first instinct would be, I think, to keep him alive, nurse him back to health (while keeping him carefully under guard and probably restrained) and then remand him to an authority for punishment.

but also...at this point especially Xiao Xingchen’s ability to have faith in people in authority is pretty dented if not actively gone (after what he saw happen with the Jin, and in CQL verse you could even count the failure of the Nie to keep track of him), and there’s also something that doesn’t sit quite right with him, I think, about healing someone only to turn them in for probable execution, that feels - weird, and kind of bad, and hypocritical, almost? because of course that’s how things work, that’s the machinery of justice, but also...he’s seen that the “justice” of cultivation society can be a farce, and would I think be concerned about giving Xue Yang over to anyone not a cultivator, out of concern that he’d wiggle out of it.

so maybe he should just take him directly there? but that also feels weird, and kind of bad, because if he’s going to do that is that any better than just letting him die to begin with? who does it really serve to turn his death over to someone else in an active sense when the end is the same, and he will have done nothing either to harm or to help. sometimes inaction is better than action.

but leaving someone to die.

anyway I think ultimately because he’s having a Hard Time making a decision he’s like “okay well I can’t...do the leaving him to die thing so I guess I deal with that first and then figure it out???” and I do not think he would keep it from Xue Yang when Xue Yang comes around that he knows what’s up. at this point I don’t think he would want to, because he’s trying to make an informed decision and he feels like part of that informed decision is making sure everyone present knows what’s going on. and also he’s kind of hoping I think that Xue Yang will say or do something that will make things clearer for him.

which...Xue Yang doesn’t. obviously. Xue Yang is not here to make things easier for anyone! and he is especially not going to make it easier for Xiao Xingchen when he is in a position of vulnerability in front of an enemy, no thank you. if this is the end of the road he’s going to make it as unpleasant as possible. and even if he is probably severely limited in what he can actually do physically (between being hurt, having been thoroughly disarmed, and probably restrained as well), he can still talk! and boy can Xue Yang talk.

and I think there are two possibilities here.

(a) he goes for provocation. if he’s going down - and it’s pretty clear he’s going down, to Xue Yang’s eyes! - then Xiao Xingchen is goddamn well going to do it himself. no magistrates, no great sects, if you want him dead, Daozhang, then make it you who does it. which means digging into Xiao Xingchen’s wounds as hard as possible in order to piss him off, which he can be pretty good at since he left most of them! and there’s so many easy possibilities. he can go after Xiao Xingchen’s failure to help Song Lan, the fact that Song Lan got fucked up because of him. he can go after how Xiao Xingchen can never go home because he was stupid and naive and shouldn’t have come down to begin with. he can go after how Xiao Xingchen didn’t stop him before so really, isn’t it his fault that he got a chance to kill more people, and trust me, Xiao-daozhang, I’ve killed a lot of people-

whether this works or not is an open question. I think it could go either way, honestly - Xiao Xingchen is pretty stubborn and it’ll be pretty obvious, probably, what Xue Yang is trying to do, and he doesn’t want to be directly responsible for killing another human being (hypocrite, coward, Xue Yang says, you’ll just be indirectly responsible, is that better?). he’s had some time to think and that means he’s less likely to make impulsive or emotional decisions.

on the other hand, Xue Yang is really good at provoking people and knows exactly where to hit to get a reaction.

the other possibility, though, is

(b) Xue Yang’s sense of self-preservation wins out. Xiao Xingchen hasn’t killed him yet. Xiao Xingchen is soft-hearted and weak and moral and doesn’t want to kill someone.

and he can work with that. he can push the angle that he’s just going to be responsible for Xue Yang’s death anyway if he turns him over to someone else, and how is that better, how is that any different? why bother patching him up in the first place if that’s how it’s going to go?

he can push the angle of having seen the error of his ways because look, his bad actions came to a bad end, isn’t that sad, betrayed by his own masters, etc. etc. this is not Xue Yang’s strong point - performing remorse is not something he does - but he could make an effort. connected to this, he can push Xiao Xingchen on how it’s not going to fix anything, sure, he’ll be dead but what changes, everything is still fucked, so really what’s the point. alive he can - uh, what’s the word - atone for his wickedness and, you know. help people. that shit.

he can go for time. play weak, keep stringing Xiao Xingchen along looking for an opportunity, putting off the reckoning until he figures a way out, and he’s pretty good at finding those.

lots of possible ways to go with that. all of them absolutely cynical and selfish and designed to play on Xiao Xingchen’s vulnerabilities - and later on, as he recognizes it, his loneliness and need for companionship.

and that’s where the slow-burn enemies to lovers comes in. which would be a lot messier and harder and probably more fucked up than in canon, because at least to start with it would almost certainly be Xue Yang taking advantage of Xiao Xingchen’s loneliness and playing him accordingly, but - as evidenced in canon! - it is perilously easy for Xue Yang to slip into whoops feelings.

Xiao Xingchen in this would be the harder one. because there is so much baggage there, and hurt, and his guard is up in a way it isn’t in canon, and he’s very much more cognizant of the danger he’s in, the danger a-Qing is in, the risk he’s taking.

but Xiao Xingchen is also lonely, and does want to believe the best of people as a general rule, and it’s very hard to be constantly vigilant, particularly when the threat comes from a sweeter direction than anticipated.

because Xiao Xingchen is expecting Xue Yang to try to escape, or try to hurt him or a-Qing, or try to hurt someone else. he’s not expecting him to try to get closer.

anyway I’ve now effectively talked myself into another longform Yi City AU and. jotting this one down I guess. fuck.

#tootiredtoosadtooangry #conversating #long post for ts #xue yang #xiao xingchen #xuexiao #but yeah song lan's not gonna be happy when he shows up #and there's a lot of bad ways this could go at this point #i wouldn't want it to but hoo boy it feels like a fix-it is...unlikely #aggressively headcanons #the sad queer cultivators show

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saras-almanac · 4 years

Text

creator tag meme

The lovely @softlass27 tagged me to do this and I am literally only seeing this now, on January 3rd. But what is time anymore? Right? And she’s also the reason her ask about my fic “letting go” has popped back up. Was that really only in September that I answered that? Seriously, what is time?

Also... yeah I didn’t really write a lot this year. I usually write a fair amount, especially with my own original stuff too, but I just didn’t have it in me this year. My biggest problem (if you consider it a problem) is I love angst and character studies and really digging in to characters and allowing them room to speak their truth or really explore something that canon leaves unexplored. If you will. And in this year of the pandemic and staying at home and all the constant anxiety around that, I just didn’t have the emotional endurance to write a lot of the things I wanted to write. So... just know that I didn’t write a lot this year.

1. finding one’s footing

Summary: Two years after Robert is sentenced to prison, he comes home to Emmerdale. Unfortunately it's not that simple as Robert struggles with the anxiety and stress of leaving prison, his mind reverting him back to his post-shooting days, and Chas trying to run him from the village. She's understandably upset at how much Robert hurt Aaron, but Aaron's more closed off than Robert has seen him in years. Robert's desperate to find a way to mend things with Aaron, if only to be friends, but he's not sure he'll be able to with Aaron's strange attitudes towards him, Chas angrily coming at Robert for so much as breathing, and his own struggles.

Reunion 3.0 - Very Robert-centric as he works to rebuild himself and the relationships he "ruined" years ago. Will eventually lead to Aaron/Robert reunion.

I literally cannot believe that this was started at the beginning of the year. And I also can’t believe that I haven’t written anything for it in months. Oops. I still really love this fic idea and really being able to dive into Robert’s frame of mind after being released from prison and really trying to readjust to life again and also just sort of facing the things he tried to avoid in prison. I just love all fics where Robert gets to really voice what he wants or needs and / or fics where Aaron fights for Robert. Plus I cannot wait to write the scene were Robert basically yells at Chas and Paddy for treating Aaron like absolute shit after he was arrested.

2. waiting

Summary: It’s been two years and Aaron’s still waiting. Literally ever since he found out Robert had been released and on his way to Emmerdale. Reunion 3.0 that is really sappy…

I honestly forgot I even wrote this! (What is this year?) And I just realized that I never cross posted it to ao3 so I’m gonna have to do that this week. But I just really love reunion fics or fics where they’re just happy together. I know that seems contradictory to what I wrote above, but it’s true? And I mean, this isn’t entirely all fluff there’s definitely some emotional angst here because it wouldn’t be my fic if there wasn’t.

****

And so we come to the end of what I actually wrote this year. Like I said... it wasn’t a lot and that’s totally cool. You gotta just live and let live, you know? But I figured I’d add a few projects / things I’m working on and want to work on for 2021. To sort of even it out in a sense.

1. finding one’s footing

Yeah. This is definitely on the list of things I want to work on this year. I really hate having unfinished works out there and usually don’t start posting a fic until it’s written or almost entirely written just in case things happen in my life and I just can’t get to writing on it. But I was really excited about this fic and wanted to post it as I went. And then the pandemic hit and all my creativity and writing drive disappeared. I do hope to continue it and make progress on it / finish it this year.

2. letting go sequel (commentary ask on the sequel)

It’s not secret that people have been wanting a sequel to this fic since basically the second I posted it. And to be totally honest here, I was a bit worried to write it back then because I knew it was going to be not as pro-Liv as I thought people wanted. I didn’t want to bash her or Aaron at all, but I was afraid that people would be really upset at me for daring to question Aaron or make him actually confront the fact that his sister got his boyfriend arrested and Aaron literally seemed to not understand why Robert was upset. And I was really new to writing in the fandom so I didn’t want to cause any disturbances. But now it’s been a few years and I no longer am that concerned about it. People who want to read it will, and those who don’t won’t. And if I get some drama and hate for it, well that’ll be exciting wouldn’t it? My last hateful anon was about Supernatural which was WILD.

3. 2017 rewrite where Robert finds out he’s got a secret kid after Aaron goes to prison.

So I’ve written a few snippets of this verse and just really love the idea of dad!Robert and thought that he was the perfect character to have a random kid turn up and turn everything upside down. So I wanted to write one and while there’s so many times that this will upset everything... I figured when Robert was frayed at the seams and Aaron’s in prison and Liv’s acting up was the perfect time for this kid (who’s Noah but not Charity’s kid cause I didn’t want to make up a new kid... *shrug*) to turn up. This is going to have a much healthier relationship between Liv and Robert because as much as she annoys me now, they had such potential in this storyline to actually build Robert and Liv up to being something of a father/daughter unit since they never were going to go there with Aaron. And the drama / tension for Aaron when he is released and for him to see that relationship and the relationship that Robert now has with this kid who Aaron doesn’t know... it’s my favorite kind of tension.

4. Pub Share AU

So it’s not really written in any real way, but the general idea is that Robert does end up buying Diane’s half of the pub in 2015-2016. This leads to Aaron and Robert sort of becoming friends of a sort even though Chas hates that Robert’s there. It’s just basically a small rewrite of the 2016 and trial era where they’re already friends and just the tension of living and working around someone you still have intense and complicated feelings for and sneaking around and the also slow burn of enemies (ish) to friends to lovers is just really good.

5. And I’m honestly probably going to end up writing a Supernatural fic because that’s just who I am now and what I’m about where Dean ends up adopting Claire and Jack in a non-hunter AU.

Look, I’m going to level with you all... I played The Witcher 3 this year and now all I care about is writing about kids being happy and my favorite characters learning to be fathers. I can’t help it... I just love the idea of this fic because I adore Claire. And after the resurgence of Supernatural in a sense, I remembered how much I love Dean (though he is hitting a bit closer to home now that I’m over 30... but we’re not going to get into that.)

So yeah... that’s that. It’s not really what it was supposed to be... but I answered it. That counts right?

I do have plans to work on and/or finish some of these this year but I cannot guarantee anything. I also am just going to let my inspiration and muse take me where it wants to go and work on whatever I want to work on in the moment. I might try to do some more wip wednesday snippets (when I actually start writing again) so anyone who follows me can see what I’m actually working on and just to try and get back into the habit of actually working on my stuff. 💖

#feel free to come and talk to me about any of this cause i do like hearing from people and want to write things people want to read #i sort of wish i'd written more this year but i really haven't #but i do like the idea i came up with and the things i want to work on in the future #robron #chatting about my writing #my writing #i'm gonna tag it here so it's all in one place

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letters-from-eros · 4 years

Text

Pairing: Kirishima Eijiro x Fem!Reader

Genre: Angst To Fluff

Form: Oneshot. Songfic

AU: Hanahaki disease.

A/N: I had to edit this so hard for me to like it at all 😭 I hope you all enjoy.

Thank you.

You laid down, sprawled out on your bed with flower petals surrounding you. You think they're petals from a rose but they could just be stained in blood. You honestly didn't really understand how your condition worked, even though the extensive research you did and the consults with doctors. What you did know is that you're grateful that you haven't started coughing up blood, which is a side effect of progressed Hanahaki; AKA you're conditon/disease. It was obvious you had bigger and better things to worry about than Kirishima (the cause of the suffocating disease) but the petals were a constant reminder of him. You wonder if he thinks about you at least a tenth of how much you think about him.

The only people who know about your... Condition, is Jiro and Mina, your two best friends. Jiro is there to comfort you, though she can't quite understand why you would go through so much pain just to hold feelings for someone, Mina's there to try to make Jiro understand the importance of love and to make you happier about the situation. You couldn't ask for better friends, honestly.

The lump in your throat starts to form and come up and you take a deep breath and let the cough come, sitting upright, expelling the flowers. After the coughing fit is done you're left panting but there was something that didn't have the petals just fall out of your hand. You look at your hand that you coughed into.

Blood. It was laced on the flower making it oddly stick to you're hand.

You quickly went to the bathroom to flush the petals you just coughed up and wash the remainder of blood off your hands before rushing back to your room to call your two support units. You fumble with your phone before you manage to start a group call.

One ring, Mina is in.

"Hey, what's up?!" She asked in a cheery tone

"One second..." You hoarsely respond, waiting for Jiro.

3 rings, Jiro picks up.

"Sorry, couldn't hear my phone over my music, what's up you guys?" Jiro says in her usually monotone voice.

"I... I coughed up blood, guys," You confess to them.

"Y/N..." Jiro sighed, you could practically hear the head shaking and facepalming.

"It's time to confess, hun. And if he doesn't reciprocate it you can go get the procedure," Mina said in a fairly sassy tone, referencing the procedure I could take to make sure I would never cough up flowers again but that would iradicate my feelings for Kirishima.

"Yeah, I know. I'm not a blinded by love idiot," You respond, matter of factly.

"Thank god.." Jiro scoffed and you and Mina chuckled.

"So how am gonna ask him out?" You ask your polar opposite best friends.

Timeskip

You see Kirishima and Bakugo argue over... Something, at Bakugo's desk that was on the other side of the classroom than yours. You watch the clock tick for a few seconds before you start writing your note.

'Meet me at the auditorium,

-Vines'

That was his nickname for you, vines. It referenced your quirk called the same thing. Oh the irony that you can sprout vines from your palms and control plants then you get a disease to cough up flowers.. The doctor who you went to to consult when you first starting coughing up the petals actually said that your quirk had the possibility to make the condition worst.

The bell rang and Bakugo and Eijiro continued arguing. You quickly left class and slipped the note into his prior to hurrying to the Auditorium.

Once you got there you found Mina adjusting her stool for the drums (Bakugo taught her how to play them) and Jiro tuning her bass. They both faked illness at some point of class to go set up the stage.

"Hey there, lover girl," Jiro said into the mic as you threw your backpack into some random chairs on the back row.

"Aren't you supposed to say check one two?" You snarkily replied. Once you got on stage you adjusted the height of your mic stand so that the mic was at your mouth.

The plan was great. You're gonna sing a cool love song that was playing in your earbuds when you first met Kirishima. You hope to god he doesn't have the memory of a goldfish and remembers the fact, especially after already telling him multiple times prior to conceiving the idea to sing to him. It was your favorite song because of that reason..

Two plants were on both sides of the door, you focus your quirk to move the plant vases to the middle of the main aisle, curling the branches into an intricate design that ultimately formed a heart.

"Pretty~" Mina spoke up in awe, staring at it. It was somewhat rare for you to use your quirk for something other than combat and it can be forgotten you can do cool, small things like this.

The door starts to creek open as Jiro and Mina start playing the beginning instrumentals. You start to sing the beginning verse as Eijiro fully comes into the auditorium, already awe struck.

Eijiro Kirishima's POV

"All I wanted was you," Y/N strong yet smooth voice sings, bouncing off the auditorium walls. I've get to hear her sing on rare occassions and I don't think I love anything more, well except for Y/N herself but unlike her singing I have to keep that love to myself...

I take a few steps further down the isle as an instrumental sounds off. Her quirk is so cool to add this beautiful and manly arbor, I doubt anything like this could be bought at a store.

I try to focus solely on her voice, but the thought keeps ringing in the back of my head onto why am I the only one watching? I know this song held significance us, but this seems so sudden. I am a man for spontaneity yet something like this seems random nonetheless. I should just focus on her singing.

Your POV

The ball starts to form in your throat towards the end of the song, you try to surpress it but your voice cracks just slightly, which is so embarrassing.. Which makes you focus on how stupid you're probably looking out of embarrassment which leads to you not focusing on the flowers which make them launch out in coughs. You pull the microphone away as weakening coughs expell the roses. After your coughing fit theres a bed of rose petals, each one dotted with at least a little blood.

A pair of strong arms make you stand up straight before entrapping you.

"You have Hanahaki?" Kirishima questioms softly, barely above a whisper. Apparently he's heard of the disease. Didn't he do a very botched project on it once..?

"Mhm..." You confirm. He nuzzles his forhead into the crook of your neck as you hug him tighter.

"Because of me?" He questions again, sounding guilty, it took a second to process that if it was him, it meant that you reciprocated his feelings. The question was fueled by his instant assumption to blame himself.

"Mhm..." You respond, a bit to anxious to respond in full words, let alone full sentences.

"I'm so sorry.. I had no idea.. Y/N," He says, drawing away and looking into your eyes, hands moving to either side of your face. "Y/N.. I love you so much, I'm so sorry I didn't show you sooner.. I never meant to hurt you!"

How unmanly was the only word that Kirishima could think of to describe his cowardice to tell you how he feels, only to see that it left you with a painful disease. The supporting grip on your waist tightened, and the man in front of you looked like he was about to shatter into a thousand pieces.

"Its okay! There was no way you could've known!"

"But-"

"It isn't you're fault, please don't blame yourself.." You empathetically started to mirror Kirishima's feeling of guilt and sadness and your smile slowly turned into a dejected one.

Strong arms wrapped completely around you in a tight hug, causing you both to wobble a bit.

"I'm so sorry.. Uh, d-don't I need to kiss you? To get rid of the.. The flowers, I mean," A warm tint that complemented his hair flushed across his cheeks as he thought back to his botched project on Hanahaki. Requited feelings was enough to keep the disease at bay.

"Not if you don't want to, Kiri," You smiled warming at the flustered teen in front of until a rough collision of lips against yours. It was filled with anxiety and awkwardness from the redheads behalf with this being the first time kissing anyone, let alone someone who he loved as much as you.

"Woo!!" Jirou catcalled, exiting the auditorium with a playful smile

"Yaaaasssss!!!" Mina cheered.

They were already gone by the time you both had pulled away from the kiss, leaving you both at a complete and utter loss for words.

You relished in the feeling of breaths unclogged with suffocating flowers, the feeling on Kirishima's soft, lingering hold across your waist that he didn't even know was there. There are no words in the english dialect to describe this moment of blissful clarity. It was hard for you to even come up with words to say.

So many feelings to express, but all that came out was a soft, grateful, "Thank you."

#my hero academia #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha x reader #mha #boku no hero academia x reader #mha x reader #my hero academia songfic #kirishima eijiro #kirishima #kirishima x reader #mha kirishima #kirishima imagine #kirishima eijiro x reader #kirishima eijiro fluff

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valorousowlart · 4 years

Photo

Classic Comics DC- HG Peter Marvel-Jack Kirby

Marimashita Iruma-Kun

Gravity Falls

Death is The Only End for The Villainess

Unfamiliar - Lavendertowne

Nebezial

Full Metal Alchemist

Miss Not-So-Sidekick

Tangled: The Animated Series

Daughter of The Lillies

First Post [HERE] Speedpaint [HERE]

Character explanation below the cut!

I like the idea that Alaric’s hero persona is this Wizard that keeps getting involved in absurd situations, constantly connecting with others and having to rely on his friends (and himself) while being absolute shit at really working cooperatively. His civilian identity as a model gives him a certain layer of separation that he can comfortably distance himself and act in a proper and professional manner but that goes out the window once his costume goes on. He’s not a bad or ineffective hero, but he has issues with the very team ups he’s forced into.

I started with the sexy librarian and went from there, honestly. Alaric in MIK is the young son of a prominent demon family, however his wild youth led his father to send him to his strict but eccentric aunt for his own good. As an adult under her tutelage he’s exceptionally strong and talented, but ends up hiding his potential to run a library of hidden, lost and generally forbidden tomes in much the same way Good Omen’s Aziraphale runs his bookstore. You can look but don’t touch. I think if he ever met the main case his reaction would be to ditch the attention-aversion glasses and get involved because “who let these babies get in dangerous situations?” In general he spends most days tending his library, reading voraciously and seducing his various partners.

Weirdmagghedon huh? It’s a good thing that they’re trapped in there, and we’re out here, and he’s Sixer, but he’s trapped in there and I just remembered that we’re in here but what I want to know is where is the triangle???? He’s a loner of a peacock demon, he’s probably just going to enjoy the solitude of the dimension while Bill and his crew are gone, or maybe sneak out and hide in the mall until everything blows over. He’s probably gonna steal some shoes though.

Okay so this one was mostly stylistic, afaik there’s no demons or anything equivalent to Infernals in Death is the Only Ending. I guess it’d be an AU. Especially since there were versions of his backstory where his father and he were unable to properly express themselves and circumstances were set up so they both thought the other hated them to death, much like with the heroine and her father. Mostly I wanted to see him in a pretty dress with a sad expression.

I don’t actually know much about the comic proper, but I feel like Alaric here is like a teacher or a tutor, someone you could go to for a hand with mastering some obscure magic. He’s the type that would learn weirdly specific magic spells out of pure academic curiosity even though it’s not practically applicable in real life.

Nebezial, my guy. How do you do this? I really appreciate your work, you make it look so easy. Alaric here is an adventurer and a battlemage, he gives his all to protect those he cares about, even willing to shed his human form for that.

Oh boy, you think you know a guy. Alaric Oran is Alexei’s foster-brother and the two of them are the latest recruits to Amestris’ alchemist program. Years have passed since the events that ended the terror of the homunculi. It’s no wonder that no one caught on that Alaric himself is a homunculus. It’s only once Alexei’s life is on the line that Alaric drops the facade and reveals the extent of his power. It may be extremely selfish, but when you’re a walking philosopher’s stone who chips away at your own life every single time you perform more than basic techniques it’s probably best to keep a low profile.

Alaric is a wizard who works under Arwin in the mage’s tower. They don’t like each other for the most part, a bit too much of similar personalities. But the work speaks for itself and neither wants to seriously fight the other. So there he remains.

Archmage Alaric is a researcher and archeologist with a special interest in magical runes and secret languages. He’s been living in solitude for years after totally not turning a guy into a horse the same year Rapunzel was kidnapped. He’s taciturn, moody, and really just wants to be left to his research. Mainly he’s just covering for anxiety that he’ll mess up again and ruin someone’s life like that horse guy. He literally saw the Moonstone crisis starting, said “Nope” and went back to his tower for months. Most people that meet him don’t realize who he was until after he’s gone. His research is the only thing that brings him joy anymore.

I love Daughter of the Lillies. The world building is so beautiful and just the story is satisfying but it hurts too. Alaric in this verse was a Wizard, some centuries ago. By the time canon starts, he would have been dead for centuries. He was someone who was almost more comfortable in a form resembling his dragon-form (assuming that’s an ability all wizards share) but sacrificed his life to stop a drath outbreak after they were freed by a beloved friend (however unwillingly).

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floraisann · 4 years

Text

eighteen

➣ ateez 9th member au

➣ warnings: a couple of curse words because jinju + yeosang = chaos

➣ genre: honestly idk since yongju starts all in His Feels™ then because ateez it gradually dissolves into chaos sooooo maybe angstxcrack??? 🤠

➣ word count: 2,317 words (how did i even accomplish this 😳)

➣ summary: it’s yongju’s birthday!! though the question is... who’s gonna tell the others?

➣ main masterlist

➣ yongju’s masterlist 🐉

➣ author’s note: i’m aware that it’s approaching noon on the 29th in korea as i��m posting this, but where i am, it’s still the 28th, meaning it’s still a valid time to post this. so anyways, happy birthday to my firstborn mr. lim yongju 🥺😭 he is my BABIE and i can’t wait until i can actually develop his character further sdkfnvsijn

❅♩♬♩❅――

“I'm tired of the city, scream if you're with me If I'm gonna die, let's die somewhere pretty, ah”

It wasn’t that Yongju’s mindless singing was a rare, unwelcome occurrence in the dorms— in fact, the ATEEZ members had grown so accustomed to the sound of his voice that the halls felt empty in the few hours where both Jongho and their new maknae were silent. Rather the thing that was making the members uncomfortable was the lyrics leaving their youngest’s lips as well as his tone.

Homesickness. The cold, empty feeling in your chest as you long for a home that is no longer yours. That’s what it was. That’s what Yongju was feeling, singing as to distract from the sentiment.

A sigh leaves Yongju’s lips as he pauses the track halfway through the first verse, the raindrops against the window somehow only working to magnify the desolate misery in the pit of his stomach. It wasn’t the first birthday he’d spent away from his family (SM hadn’t exactly allowed him to travel back for the special occasion in those thirty months spent hoping for debut with his SMRookies friends), and of course, his relatives had all sent him countless birthday wishes earlier on in the day, but it was still the first birthday he’d spent completely away from any family.

Lim Jinju. His annoying twin sister who, as the title implied, shared birthdays with him. Every year prior to the present one, even if they couldn’t celebrate with their families, at least they had each other. Perhaps her absence was just what was making him feel so miserable. Yongju couldn’t call himself outgoing by any means— often disappearing from others’ eyes hours at a time in order to recharge his rapidly depleting social battery— but it was always in the presence of such… chaotic figures that he felt able to let go.

“Do the members even know my birthday…?” He whispers, his words disappearing within the confines of the dark, empty dorm room. Wooyoung and Yeosang along with several more of the members had left for the company building to get some additional practice hours in to prepare for some upcoming schedules. The only members that stayed with him at the dorms were Seonghwa and Jongho, both of whom were unfortunately injured.

Tired, Yongju let himself flop onto his side, the headboard loudly clicking against the wall before rocking to a stop. “What am I so tired for…?” He mumbles to himself, squinting at the sudden brightness of his phone as he unlocks it. “I haven’t even done anything today.” His thumb hovers over the ‘call’ button for a few seconds as he considers calling home. The thought soon leaves him once more as he groans, shifting onto his back.

“Ah, my head hurts.”

Sleep quickly finds the young boy, its grip firm against him as he’s forced to succumb to his drowsiness. It’s restless, but still, it’s much needed. For the first time in days, Yongju can stop thinking.

♩♪♫♬⇝

“I think he might like the vanilla cake.” Hongjoong softly mutters to San, who stands hunched over, carefully inspecting the contents of the store’s bakery counter to find the perfect treat for their later celebration.

San gently shakes his head, not tearing his eyes from the iced treats as he replies to his elder in a semi-hushed voice. “Vanilla? No that’s too basic even if he is kinda plain. I vote chocolate.”

“Vanilla is basic and chocolate isn’t?” Wooyoung scoffs. “Chocolate is probably the most basic cake flavor to ever come into existence.”

“Everyone shut up, let’s get him carrot cake.”

The members all turn to Mingi, incredulous looks on their faces as they question his words.

Wooyoung is the first to explode. “You absolute HEATHEN do you want him to think we hate him?”

“I was just making a suggestion!—”

“—Wait guys!” Yeosang’s call quickly breaks the chaos as his bandmates turn, not wanting to speak over him. “I have—” He stops himself to laugh into his sweater-covered palm. “—Guys, I got Jinju’s number. Should I ask what kind of cake he’d want?”

The expressions on his members’ faces quickly shift from incredulous to exasperated and Yeosang finds that he can only laugh, giggling as he scrolls to his phone contacts to find ‘Lim Jinju’

“Yeosang,” Yunho finally begins. “You’re telling me that this whole time we were arguing, including the entire car ride to this place—” He stops, closing his eyes as he presses his fingers against his temples. “You had contact with Jinju?”

The accused blonde simply flashes a toothy grin as he extends his arm to show off the newly added contact in his phone. “Okay—” He quickly retracts, looking down at the said contact. “I’m being completely honest here— I actually forgot I had her contact since I just got it last night and entirely by chance too!”

Wooyoung blinks. “Yeosang, what you mean, sir?”

Grinning, Yeosang quickly locks his phone, clapping his hand over the screen as he launches into his story. “Okay! So you know how Yongju always falls asleep while on his phone, right? Yeah! So last night after I showered, I came back to the room and he was asleep, probably on accident too, because the episode of ‘Free!’ he was watching was only half finished.”

“Where are you going with this?” San interjects, Hongjoong quickly shushing him.

“Okay, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, when I was walking past him, I noticed his phone was on like, maybe two percent battery? So being a good roommate, I decided to charge it for him. So when I grabbed his phone, I had the sudden realization that since it was unlocked, the options available to me were endless! So in the end, I both charged his phone and saved Jinju’s number to my contacts for safekeeping.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you suck at ending stories?” Wooyoung flatly questions. Yeosang is quick to glare through his blonde locks, eliciting a few laughs from the other members.

“Well either way, that safekeeping purpose ended up being fulfilled much earlier than expected, so if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be calling Miss Lim Jinju!”

Before anyone can react, Yeosang’s phone is unlocked, and the familiar ‘calling’ chime rings in their ears.

“Put her on speaker!” Hongjoong instructs, and Yeosang is quick to comply.

“Hello?” Jinju’s strong and clear voice reverberates around them after the third ring, and there’s a momentary bout of chaos as all six men present attempt to greet her at the same time.

“Happy birthday, Jinju!” Wooyoung hollers directly into the speaker.

“What are you all so loud for?” She whines. “I swear you just gave me hearing loss— anyways, I hope I’m not the first twin you’re screaming at because last time I checked, the other June twenty-eight born lad literally lives with you.”

“Well, that’s kinda why we called, you June twenty-eight born lass, you know?” Yunho weakly sings into the speaker, causing a few odd glances from the shop’s workers.

“What could you— Oh!” Yeosang flinches, pushing the phone further away from his face as Jinju yells. “Wait I know exactly why you called! Okay, so be very mindful of Yongju’s taste buds because they’re kinda fucked, and he hates chocolate cake.”

“See! I told you!” Mingi hollers, Wooyoung being quick to slap him across the back of his head as he quips a fast, “You didn’t tell us shit, mr. carrot cake!” back.

“Stop fighting!” Hongjoong scolds, lightly punching Mingi on the shoulder. “Anyways, Jinju, if he doesn’t like chocolate, what should we buy him?”

There’s a brief silence as the twin contemplates her answer, the six members present leaning close to the phone as they make their own guesses as to what Yongju would like. “I’m pretty sure the last time we had cake he really liked the red velvet.”

The members immediately disperse, different degrees of self-disappointment on their faces, save Yeosang, who had begun to softly sing the chorus of ‘Red Flavor’ by Red Velvet.

“Why is it that no one guessed red velvet, yet one of us idiots managed to come up with the idea that Yongju would want carrot cake?” Wooyoung finally asks.

“It’s because we’re all clowns,” San starts, turning away as Hongjoong goes to purchase the small red velvet cake. “And Yongju just so happens to be the circus director.”

❅♩♬♩❅――

“Yongju, wake up!” The boy in question blinks awake, disoriented, as Seonghwa gently shakes him conscious. “Sorry we couldn’t let you keep sleeping, but the managers want you, Jongho, and me over to the company for some last minute evaluation… thing,” He explains.

Yongju sleepily yawns into his hand, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he asks, “What time is it now?”

“It’s 3pm,” His elder quickly answers. “They want me there earlier so I’m heading off now, but the managers are gonna bring you and Jongho over in an hour or so.” He then smiles, lovingly pinching the youngest on the cheek. “Freshen yourself up before then, alright? I’ll see you soon.”

As Seonghwa leaves, Yongju forces himself into a sitting position, dazed, yet trying his hardest to force himself fully awake. Finally, he kicks his legs over the side of his bed, padding straight over to the bathroom to put on some makeup. He was an idol now. He had to at least try to look alive.

♩♪♫♬⇝

“Guys, hurry up! Jongho and Yongju are gonna be here any minute now!” San whines, rocking on his heels.

Seonghwa immediately stops his work in arranging streamers on the wall to glare at the younger boy, who in response, flashes him a wide grin. “If you’re so concerned about us not finishing in time, you could help, yeah?” He rolls his eyes. “I’m literally injured and I’m doing more than you.”

“I’m the supervisor!” He happily sings. “I’m here to make sure you guys are doing your work the right way!”

“What time is it anyways?” Hongjoong quietly mutters. “How much time do we got until they get here?”

“It is,” Yunho begins in a sing-song voice. “It is exactly 4pm at this moment.”

The boys all turn back to Seonghwa as a small choking noise leaves his throat. “Why didn’t you say anything? Jongho told me he’d get Yongju here by four o’clock sharp!”

“Yeah, and I have some news.” Yeosang announces, glancing down at his phone as he calls all the attention to himself. “Jongho just texted the old group chat saying they’re getting out of the car now.”

“I told you this would happen!” Seonghwa yells, all of the balloons they had purchased for the event in his hand as he runs to place them. “This is why I asked all of you to keep track of the time!”

♩♪♫♬⇝

“Do you know what we’re filming?” Yongju softly asks Jongho as they approach the practice room. “Are we filming a dance practice for ‘On’?”

Jongho lets a puff of air escape his lips as he shrugs at the question. “They probably wouldn’t have brought me or Seonghwa here if that were the case since we didn’t even dance in that stage.”

“Good point,” Yongju comments, nodding. “But is there anything else we could film? There was nothing in the schedule for today either.”

Jongho simply shakes his head once more. “I really don’t have the slightest clue.”

The pair stops as they reach the practice room, and for once Yongju notices the lack of light coming through the semi-transparent door.

“Are you sure this is the right room?” He asks his bandmate, frowning as he steps into the pitch black expanse. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen the main practice area this dark…”

“Well, the managers told me—”

He’s cut off as the lights flash on and the other seven members’ faces are exposed.

“Happy birthday, maknae!” Wooyoung screams, his high tone easily slicing its way through the babble of the others as they begin singing him a happy birthday.

He can’t help but take a few steps back, his hands flying to his mouth as his eyes fill with tears of… happiness? surprise?

“Why are you running away?” Jongho asks, his hand still draped across the younger’s shoulder as he pushes him closer to the cake.

He smiles, standing somewhat awkwardly as Yeosang places the cake in his arms and he tries his best not to drop it, eyes lighting up as he notices the cake’s color.

They all applaud, urging him to quickly make a wish so he could blow out the candle and enjoy the treat.

Well, what did he want to wish for?

His life situation had taken a drastic turn in the last nine months. It wasn’t just that his thirty four month trainee period had finally drawn to a close. Finally, Yongju had friends, or rather eight brothers and countless fans who he was beginning to truly feel comfortable enough to be completely himself in front of without fear of judgement. And on top of that, he was able to get this far without giving up anything he loved.

He made it. For the first time in the nine months Yongju had spent with ATEEZ, he could finally feel the full effects of the word ‘success’.

He wants it to last.

The members all happily cheer as he blows out the candle, and he flinches away from San’s aggressive shows of affection. Despite the secondhand embarrassment he should be feeling first and foremost as the eight of them act— well— so wholeheartedly themselves, he’s distracted by the warmth he feels in his stomach as well as a sudden burst of energy as he finds he wants to mess around just as he would with Jinju back home.

Yongju debuted. Yongju had a family. Yongju had success.

#ateez #atzinc #kpopuniversenet #ateez 9th member #ateez reactions #ateez headcanons #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez writing #ateez hongjoong #ateez seonghwa #ateez yunho #ateez yeosang #ateez san #ateez mingi #ateez wooyoung #ateez jongho #ateez yongju

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the-odd-job · 4 years

Text

Harem AU - First time Sideswipe meets Megatron

Rating: Explicit Warnings: Rape/Non-Con Category: Other Fandom: Transformers Characters: Megatron, Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, Unnamed Characters Relationships: Megatron/Sideswipe, Sideswipe & Sunstreaker Additional Tags: Sticky, Throatfuck/Deepthroat, Purging, Referenced Gangrape, Humiliation, Size Difference Words: 2841

A certain someone shared their harem AU yesterday, which made me go like “???? WHY DON’T I HAVE A HAREM AU THIS IS A TRAVESTY”

Now I have a harem AU.

Snippets of this ‘verse will probably get posted intermittently and wildly out of order as I get inspired to write them. Maybe one day there’ll be enough to compile and fill in the gaps for a full fic. We’ll live in hope!

In the meantime, please enjoy.

And heed the warnings. Plz.

His valve throbbed, and not in the good way.

Sideswipe struggled to swallow through the aching in his throat, staring up at the ceiling and trying so hard to ignore the talk and laughter around him.

Laughter. The bastards were seriously laughing while raping the wits out of them.

And Sideswipe was honestly coming to his wit’s end. There was no end to the spikes they’d shove up his valve or down his throat. He wasn’t sure how long this had lasted already, or how much longer it would last still.

How much he’d endured already, and how much more he would still need to endure.

If there even would be an end to it. What did he know, maybe they’d keep raping them until they died from it. He felt pretty ready to die from it, at least. They’d hit and beat him enough times that he felt more than a little dinged. His throat was raw, stretched past capacity by spikes far too large for him. His jaw ached. He couldn’t get the taste of transfluid off his glossa. His valve burned from being penetrated time and time again without there ever being enough lubricant for even the first one.

At least all the transfluid had started to ease the way after a while. It was seeping out of him now, where he lay spread on one of the tables, unable to quite scrounge up the will to move. It was no use anyway. No matter which way he moved, they’d just manhandle him into the position they wanted him in.

He’d tried running enough times to know it would only elicit uproarious laughter before they’d grab him and throw him back to the center of the room.

Running was a little silly, he had to admit that much even to himself. He had no idea where he was or which door would’ve led to somewhere he wanted to be in—if those doors would’ve even been open. It wasn’t much of a wonder they laughed.

But what else was he supposed to do? Fighting hadn’t worked. He was so vastly outnumbered they had no issues whatsoever just pinning him down until he couldn’t fight anymore, and that was if they didn’t alone already mass so much more than him that they could pin him without any help.

Those spikes hurt the worst.

He could hear Sunstreaker’s ragged ventilations off to the side where they’d dumped his brother onto the floor. Sunstreaker hadn’t tried getting up again, and Sideswipe wasn’t sure if that was because he was too hurt to, or because he had similarly come to the conclusion that it really wouldn’t have done any good.

Endure. That was all they could do at this point.

His ventilations hitched, but Sideswipe continued to ignore the tears that streamed from his optics. They’d made fun of those too, when he’d first started crying. By now it was old news and they only laughed if they got him to cry harder with something they did.

But for the moment there was no one touching him beyond the grip that kept his wrists pinned together on the surface of the table—mech wasn’t even paying attention to him anymore—and Sideswipe took the second’s respite it was to pick the pieces of his pride and dignity off the metaphorical floors, dust them off, and store them for a later moment when he might have a chance to try to put them back together.

Now if they’d just let him pick up the physical pieces of himself too. They hadn’t given him the time to retract his valve cover, doubtful as it was that he would’ve done that voluntarily. And maybe that was what they’d figured, that he might not even do it anyway, so just cut the chase and tear it off completely!

What did he even need it for, amirite?

Sideswipe couldn’t quite contain his sob this time around, but luckily no one took notice of it, because one of the doors opened just then. Sideswipe turned his helm to look, and his spark sank at the sight of the massive grey mech even he, a certified street urchin, could recognize.

Megatron. The tyrant of Kaon, dictator of the city-state.

Unquestioned ruler of the whole damn place.

Megatron asked something from the room at large in a tongue Sideswipe couldn’t understand—Kaonite—his red optics passing between Sideswipe and Sunstreaker. Sideswipe couldn’t see Sunstreaker himself, but he heard his twin growl. Down but not out.

One of the beatifically grinning lackeys at Sideswipe’s feet responded in the same language. Sideswipe growled too now, to the tune of more laughter around him.

Megatron was smiling right along with the rest of the room, a genuinely amused expression at complete odds with the usual furious scowl he was depicted with in all the images Sideswipe had seen of him.

Megatron walked into the room like he owned the place, as he did, with mecha moving from his way as surely as if he had had a physical barrier around him keeping everyone at a respectful distance. He walked all the way to where Sideswipe judged Sunstreaker to be laying, then nudged something—Sunstreaker—with his pede.

Like he was shocked, Sunstreaker lunged to his pedes with another reverberating snarl. Everyone laughed again, barring Megatron who merely cocked an optical ridge in amusement. The noise only doubled when Sunstreaker stumbled and fell back into the waiting arms of their rapists.

He only growled harder when he was harmlessly caught, but when he tried to jerk away, they wouldn’t let him.

Sideswipe could see him ventilating hard, before his attention was stolen by Megatron again. He was approaching, and with a wave of his servo the mecha scattered from around Sideswipe.

He shot into a sitting position, a sinking feeling in his spark warning him he likely wouldn’t like whatever was going to come next.

Megatron was next to him before he had the time to force his numb limbs into further cooperation. “Let’s see what you have, little one, hmm?” Megatron asked from him in perfect standard, freezing Sideswipe in place with the weight of his red gaze. His spark was spinning in his chest like a mad thing, and he couldn’t but squeak when Megatron grabbed him by the throat in one sudden motion, forcing him back against the table and spinning him in place until his helm faced Megatron’s crotch.

He knew exactly what was going to come next. “NO!” Sideswipe flailed hard, trying to pull and twist himself free from Megatron’s hold, but it was like Megatron didn’t even feel his struggles with how easily he kept his grip. Sideswipe’s servos shot to the wrist of the hand holding his throat, digging his claws on, but if looks were anything to go by, Megatron’s armor was beyond thick.

He probably didn’t even feel it.

But Sideswipe would feel this. His mouth started aching all over again when Megatron retracted his upper modesty panel and let his spike pressurize.

It was just as big as a mech his size should have, which meant nothing short of colossal next to Sideswipe.

And he didn’t want it anywhere near him, not his mouth, not his valve. Desperate, Sideswipe bent his body in half to kick at Megatron with all the force he could muster—what good could that possibly do for him? Primus, he had no idea—but Megatron merely stepped to the side, his grip on Sideswipe’s throat tightening to a threatening degree.

There was no anger, not even annoyance when Megatron said something to his peers. At once Sideswipe’s legs were grabbed and brought back to the table, and pinned there. He tried to kick free, but it did nothing. “Get the frag away from me!” he barked at Megatron, glaring with undisguised hatred and fear at the mech easily more than twice his mass.

This would hurt so, so bad. Tears were streaming from his optics unbidden again and his throat was constricting from more than just Megatron’s hold on it.

There was an uptick at the corner of Megatron’s serene mouth, but that was all. “Enough of that, now. Open.”

Like hell.

Sideswipe bared clenched denta and growled.

There was more laughter from all around him, but no sound from Megatron. He made up for his silence with action, bringing his free servo around and slipping one of his massive digits past Sideswipe’s lips, all the way to the farthest reach of his mouth where he could jab it in the empty area behind his denta and force his mouth open.

He did it with swiftness and familiarity that made Sideswipe think he’d repeated that same move far too many times before.

Thick digits were shoved into his mouth the moment there was a gap between his denta, and pushed far enough that Sideswipe gagged on them, his back arching off the table. Megatron kept them there for one torturous moment before replacing them with his spike in a move that was similarly so practiced Sideswipe couldn’t help but despair.

And the spike was so much worse. It instantly forced his jaw open wide enough that his faceplates stung from the stretch and Sideswipe screamed as it was rammed straight to the back of his mouth, hitting his throat and making him gag all over again. Except this time it didn’t end there, like it hadn’t any of the times the others had decided to use his mouth.

Megatron pulled him forward enough for his helm to fall off the edge of the table, straightening his throat so that he could shove his spike down it with a jab of his hips. Sideswipe’s servos tightened around the wrist steadily holding him when his throat was stretched far enough that he was surprised it didn’t rupture right away.

It hurt so much, and none of the other spikes had adequately prepared him to take it. Sideswipe cried out, or tried to, but his vocalizer was all but crushed and nothing but a garbled little peal of static came out.

Then Megatron pulled back until only the tip of his spike was still in Sideswipe’s mouth, leaving his throat a gaping hole, only for him to push back in again in the next moment.

On the next withdrawal, Sideswipe managed a scream, and he could hear a cheer rise in the room. Celebrating his pain.

And Sunstreaker was yelling above it all. “Let the frag go of him you slagger! Leave him be! Fragging– Take me instead, just leave him alone!”

Megatron had to hear, but he paid it no mind. There was no time for Sideswipe to adjust to any of it, if he even physically could have ever, before Megatron had already increased his pace, pulling almost all the way out of his mouth before thrusting back down his throat.

Sideswipe struggled. There was nothing left of conscious effort in his motions, just the primal need to get away from the abuse, from having his burning throat opened up over and over again by something that was never intended to go down it. He flailed, but they had his legs, and Megatron ignored anything his arms did, whether it was hitting, scratching, or gripping.

Eventually it was just gripping, his servos having landed back on Megatron’s arm to do no more than hold on.

Megatron kept fragging his mouth. His gag reflex could only take it for so long before his frame heaved and expelled the contents of his tanks—what little there was left from the past times this had already happened.

Megatron just ignored it, even as Sideswipe’s regurgitation bubbled past the spike stretching his mouth open and streamed down his face. It mixed with tears and oral lubricant, and the old messes of energon and transfluid already painting his face.

There was more casual chatter and laughter in the room, Sideswipe could hear it dimly past the wet sound of having his throat ravaged, past the pain that kept trying to steal all of his focus.

It hurt. It wouldn’t stop hurting, and Megatron wouldn’t stop thrusting in and out, stretching the pain filled moments just as his throat was being stretched.

He screamed again in another brief moment his throat was temporarily abandoned by Megatron’s spike, and this time he could both hear and feel Megatron rumble, the vibrations traveling down his spike and touching his sore lips. “That’s it, you little bitch,” Megatron growled at him, lowly, quietly, as if only he was supposed to hear. “Cry for me.”

And Sideswipe did, yelling weakly again only for the sound to get distorted into a bleat of static when Megatron pushed back in. There was no sense to this. No one gave one single damn about his comfort, his pain, his anything, just as long as they could use his body and whatever hole they pleased to take their pleasure.

Megatron was no different from the rest, and his words were no different from the abuse already hurled at him, but he was the leader. He was the only one who could’ve made this stop, but instead he sanctioned all of it and partook in it himself.

And took pleasure in it. Sideswipe could feel that much in the way Megatron’s thrusts began to eventually stammer and lose their rhythm. He pushed in deep only to grind his hips against Sideswipe’s face in circular motions that brought a new fresh hell of hurt to his stretched throat.

Tears were running from his optics despite how tightly he’d shut them. Megatron pulled out, did a few shallow humps that barely dipped into his throat, then thrust in deep again and circled his hips.

Endure.

That was all he could do, but Sideswipe doubted there would be an end to this. Now or ever. Was this what they’d been brought in for? Would death be his only way out?

He didn’t want to die.

But this didn’t exactly make him want to live either.

Megatron thrust as deep as he could get one more time before gripping Sideswipe’s throat tighter, squeezing him around his spike through one tiny thrust, then another, before Sideswipe could feel the hot pulses of his transfluid deep down his throat. Mistakenly he tried to swallow on reflex, which pulled a pleased rumble from his assailant. The last thing he had wanted, but it was too late by that point.

Megatron held him there for what felt like an eternity, rubbing his spike through Sideswipe’s throat and milking the last bits of transfluid out of it where Sideswipe refused to swallow again. His mouth twitched around the stretch his lips were forced into while he waited, and cried, and hurt, and silently prayed for it to stop already.

Panic nearly overtook him again when Megatron didn’t stop there but instead rocked his hips with the threat of just fragging continuing. He flailed, but his legs were still obediently pinned by Megatron’s followers, and this time Megatron struck him across the face for the way his arms hit him.

It wasn’t any small strike either. Sideswipe gasped through his vents at the additional pain in what was already a life of torture.

And Megatron continued rocking, moving his hips just so to slide his spike up and down in Sideswipe’s throat.

Sideswipe had already almost drowned in his pit of despair by the time Megatron pulled out and didn’t push back in again. Immediately the contents of Sideswipe’s tanks followed him all over again, though this time it was mostly Megatron’s own transfluid that came out. Some of it splattered into Megatron’s thighs from the force of its expulsion, but the tyrant utterly ignored it just as he went on to utterly ignore Sideswipe.

Crying, defiled Sideswipe with his face a mess of tears, lubricant, transfluid, and his own vomit. His legs were released, but he didn’t try to move beyond wiping one shaking servo across his sore mouth.

It wasn’t just his servo that was shaking, it was the whole rest of him too. Shivering, interrupted with larger jerks when his sobs took the better of him.

His throat hurt. He wasn’t sure it would ever return back to its normal size, it sure didn’t feel like it had yet. Maybe it would be better if it didn’t, if this was just going to repeat.

And Sideswipe feared this was going to repeat.

“You were so eager to have your turn. Now you’ll have it,” Sideswipe heard Megatron say, and looked past his veil of tears at him. Megatron had turned his attention to Sunstreaker, his spike still standing proudly between his legs, and Sideswipe thought he now knew the purpose of Megatron’s last little jerks: to keep his spike in pressurization so he could rape Sunstreaker next.

“Please,” Sideswipe whispered, but between the pain and fear robbing his voice and his vocalizer only barely functional from the abuse it had taken, he wasn’t sure if anyone even heard him.

Please, not Sunstreaker.

#transformers #maccadams #sideswipe #megatron #sunstreaker #harem au #fic #2020 #megaswipe

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mushroommouth · 4 years

Text

Reworked + Expanded S.J. Lore- Now with EXTRA BUMMERS!

(---submitted by @transistor-rhythm-909)

This is going to say an awful lot about my self worth that I’m doing this to my self insert, BUT

(There is a mention of suicide ideation in here, so uhhh do please tag for that cos I can’t seem to on the browser submission page)

The first major change that sets up the angsty stuff: I’ve decided upon is that he doesn’t do part time work at Dom’s workplace anymore- he still met Dom a few years back and before Mira came into the picture (I wanna say probably around the time Son of the Sun took place, which in my mind was when Cody was about 3 or 4). Where he met Dom I’m not sure, but their relationship progresses more or less the same way- as does S.J.’s relationship with Mira when she enters the picture.

The reason for this change is ‘cos I’ve decided to have S.J.’s sole place of employment be Kathy’s Store, as you can probably figure out. Not inherently angsty on its own, but, well…

As we know, S.J. rolled into town with not much travel cash left and desperately needing a job. He didn’t escape a bad home life or tragic circumstances when he left England, he just felt… stagnant there. Didn’t really know what he wanted to do with his life (as whilst he does make music like IRL me, for him it’s decidedly a hobby, not his career choice). Unfortunately, travelling across America when you don’t drive is Pricey, so. He found himself drawn to Kathy’s store, entirely unsure why- and pretty much from the words “'scuse me lass, you hiring?”, Kathy seemed up for helping him out. Not in an overly sentimental way, mind, but she pretty much said “yeah sure, could use the help, you can use the room upstairs 'til you can find yer own place- by the by, here’s the apt. listings in the paper”.

For the first couple of months his life was pretty normal- he wasn’t allowed all the way in the back of the store and some of Kathy’s quirky behaviours stood out to him, but he rolled with it. Then, one day, he got unintentionally caught in the crossfire between Kathy and Em; I need to work out specific details, but the end result of this is that S.J. essentially became aware not only of the supernatural… existing, but also gained a similar sort of “medium awareness” that Kathy and Em possess. He doesn’t necessarily view himself as a character in a story, and the world he’s in one big narrative, at least not literally, but he’s at least on a similar level of omnipotence as Kathy and Em are now. That is all he has, though; the knowledge. He has no godly powers, no magical capability. He’s still dead normal, otherwise.

This is part of what prompts him to stay in Kathy’s employ, even though she straight up tells him he should walk away and not endanger himself further- after all by then, he has his own place, he’s got cash saved up, and he can find work elsewhere. But S.J. says simply “Now I know what you two do, I can’t just pretend life is the way it was. I’m a part of this now, whether I like it or not.”

Kathy looks extremely guilty for a sec, but he continues; “besides, now I know exactly why you look so sad and so tired all the time. After how kind you were to me- a total stranger- when I rolled up outta nowhere, it wouldn’t sit right with me to leave you in the lurch. You look out for the whole town; let me look out for you.”

So S.J.’s path in live is set; he’s a semi omnipotent being who can’t do much with the knowledge he has except be very, very snarky. He can’t ever go back to his original home even if he wanted to without that knowledge. Factor in that he was already depressed and anxiety riddled to begin with, and you can imagine that if S.J. tried living a normal life and just ignoring this new info… he’d crack under the pressure. And the guilt of leaving Kathy behind. And the stronger guilt of leaving Dom and Miranda alone in a town that he now knows does have it’s hostile secrets that could put them in danger.

And that eats up at him, sometimes. He never intended on going back to England when it was an option, even though he sometimes missed it, but now he can’t he finds he misses it more. He visits, sure, but never longer then a week, and usually only at Christmas. The rest of the time, it’s vid calls or nada, and that’s not the same. And he can’t tell his parents, his friends from home, what he knows- they’ll think he’s mad. He knows he’d think someone was mad if they told him what he knows, if he didn’t know it himself.

But, there is a sweet along with that bitter; Dom and Miranda love him very much, and he loves them. They fill his heart in ways that people back home never did, and though that doesn’t fill the void, it makes it easier when he misses home. He and Kathy grow closer as well- again, not romantically (it’s only IRL me that crushes on Kathy I’m afraid), but as professionals, as friends, as mentor and mentee. And he can- and does- help mitigate some of the crisis’ that befall the town, major and minor, with his limited skillset but vast knowledge. And as it turns out, all S.J. has ever really wanted to do is to help people; to love them and look after them; to do what he can to make other people safe and happy, however small and brief that happiness may sometimes be.

And that keeps him going. Even in his darkest days, when he seriously considers ending his life… he finds he can’t. He can’t leave those he loves, near and far, behind. He can’t hurt them like that. To do so would be a betrayal of his most core ideal: to do no harm, and to love like the world is ending.

Part of why the Micoverse fan-verse I’ve constructed for me stories is given the name “Because I Know How Strong Love Is” comes from the fact that S.J. honestly and earnestly believes in the strength that can be drawn from love- not just romantic or sexual, but familial, platonic, love and passion for concepts and interests, the entire spectrum of love as a concept. He knows, deeply and truly, how in many cases that can save anyone. And in spite of the knowledge he knows, that belief has not changed. No matter what he faces, he won’t stop believing. Em herself can actively try everything in her playbook to break him, and sometimes he may- but she cannot take that belief from him. And he rubs that in her face as much as he can, cos to play off those drawings from the other day, she can say 'I’ll destroy everything you love <3’, and he’ll respond with “That won’t stop me loving, lass. Do your worst.” knowing that she will, and not caring; no matter how disadvantageous his position again her or anything else, he’ll go down fighting and swearing- if he goes down.

(which he sometimes does, but there is one small perk that awakening gave him, even if he is not fully aware of it; death doesn’t stick, to him or to anyone. Not completely, no matter how hard Em or The Shape tries. He remembers each death as though it were a dream and is suspicious that it probably did happen, but he can’t count on that; it doesn’t stop him laying down his life willingly if he feels he must).

TL;DR my self insert is technically aware that he’s a character and is also aware of the true nature of Micoverse’s world and the many universes beyond, but that doesn’t stop him living a life of love and peace and as much fun as he can muster, and in the face of evil or cruelty he stands by his convicting that love wins every time- and will actively make it win if given the chance. (he, uh, doesn’t reveal this info to anyone beyond Kathy though. at least in idea situations; given the in-flux nature of aus, side stories, canon and non canon stuff there will be times where they do become aware somehow- like Casual Danger dialogue- but generally he keeps it on the down low unless he has no choice to reveal what he knows)

This was all btw inspired by that “I’ll destroy everything you love <3” drawing, because something about S.J.’s response of “I know, but I’ll be sassy about it” really made me think 'oh, he KNOWS. he’s got access to the knowledge she and Kathy does. that’s a show of his hand’ and I just kinda wanted to run with it. It won’t always be relevant to every single story- and of course I’d never consider S.J. a canon micoverse character (unless you thought of something neat you could do with him anyway)- but it is a part of his character now innit. Our Boy Knows What’s Up.

#THIS IS SO GOOD #submission

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asgardianthot · 5 years

Text

Flesh And Bones – Part 8

Soulmate AU

Series Masterlist

A/N: been a while :l sorry for not updating for a while!! As usual I’m back with a lot written down!! Part 9 will be up soon (and also the last part of Funeral Chuckle, if you’re reading that one). Here, have some domesticity and some kisses and a lil angst :)

Words: 3187

*This work is also on AO3

"You're doing great, Barnes." Sam congratulated the man, encouraging him to keep going.

Bucky breathed hard through his nose, controlling his breath as he punched the bag down in the training area. While he worked on his punches, Sam monitored his improvements in the caution department.

The whole idea was for Bucky to be able to control his own strength when using his hands, so that he learned not to get himself hurt. Ergo, so that Sam wouldn't get hurt. Hydra had taught him to hit targets, not to care for himself while doing so. Whereas any trained soldier would land on their feet neatly and placing their weight on their toes, Bucky was told to land. At all costs. No matter if he wrecked his bones in the process. Thus, whereas Sam punched his targets in a way that wouldn't break his knuckles, balancing his strength, Bucky wasn't as preoccupied. He didn't mind the occasional sting, and if he got himself hurt, he healed pretty fast. Of course, that was before the bond.

Suddenly, Bucky began punching a bit rougher and Sam felt the familiar tingling on his knuckles, numbing his articulations a little.

"Easy." He warned Bucky.

The latter stopped with a grunt and dropped both arms to his sides.

"Sorry." He panted slightly.

"No, that was good." Sam made sure not to forget focusing on the positive advances, "You're getting a hold of this."

Barnes didn't nod, but he didn't seem to be negating the stated fact, either. Instead, he looked like he was considering it while he fetched his water bottle. He gulped down a quarter of it in one go, never losing eye contact with Sam, and panted out in exhaustion when he got rid of the bottle.

"You're not saying it out of pity?" he verified, tentatively.

Sam merely rolled his eyes.

"I don't pity you." He reminded Bucky, "And you really are learning this pretty fast."

The appellee reflected on the partial compliment for a second, and then his face grew a small smile.

"Great." He finally agreed, still working on steadying his breaths, "That means you're not getting hurt."

While Bucky didn't have anything meaningful to say or add, he couldn't look away from the man that had been couching him the past hour. He thought about how hard the adapting process would be and for how long, but having him right there and being able to appreciate the goodness that Sam irradiated, he thought about how much harder it would be not being Sam's partner.

"What?" Wilson eventually felt too observed.

Bucky wanted to say something cheesy. Desperately wanted to pamper Sam somehow, but he opted for closing the gap between them. He took one step closer until their bodies pressed slightly, and put a hand on Sam's waist.

"This okay?" he checked.

The smile that Sam bore was almost unnoticeable, but Bucky did catch it.

"Yeah." Sam breathed out.

As Bucky planted his own lips on his and pushed a wet kiss into them, Sam's insides swelled and churned in the best possible way. Be it through the excessive effort Barnes was putting into controlling the bond, or through that tiny kind gesture, Bucky conveyed how much he cared. And Sam had never felt so cared for before, or at least, not like that. Bucky was different. He was the kind of man who would swear to you his undying loyalty by getting back on his own two feet for you.

When their lips parted, Sam took a hold of the metal hand in his.

"Told you we could do this." He said with pride.

His words alluded the arm control and the strength balance, but he also meant the bond. And somehow, he was referring to the love part, also.

"Sorry I ever doubted it." Bucky smirked up at him.

The common room seemed to have come back to normality, finally. Seeing how nobody was avoiding anyone anymore, the heroes managed to eat breakfast while sharing the same space, and coexist like they used to.

In fact, the couple looked more comfortable than ever, plopped on the couch and watching TV. Bucky rested his body against Sam’s, while the latter wrapped one arm around him, occasionally running his fingers through his hair. Behind them and having their breakfast on the table, were Wanda and Steve.

“You guys are disgusting.” Wanda joked, disapproving the entire couch scene with her expression.

“You’re so jealous.” Bucky replied, not even dignifying her with a look, “Pass the remote?”

“Come get it.” The young woman scoffed.

Bucky twisted his neck as much as he could in his current position, only to give her an offended grimace.

“Come on!”

“You can’t get away from Sam for half a second? Is that it?” she teased.

“I don’t wanna get up.”

“Neither do I. Come get your remote.”

Finally, Sam interjected with annoyance. “I’ll get the remote.”

As he stood up and abandoned the embrace, Bucky groaned at the lack of support and dramatically let his body fall lopsided on the cushions.

“That’s exactly what I was avoiding.” He complained.

“Admitting that you were too comfortable?” Wanda narrowed her eyes in a mocking manner, “Just say it, lover boy.”

During the whole interaction, Steve had been hiding behind his morning paper– some habits die hard. Eventually, he had to at least acknowledge the childish playfulness filling the room. It was so refreshing, yet so different, coming from Bucky and Sam as a couple. The idea was still settling in the back of Steve’s mind, but he couldn’t deny it somehow felt right. Too right, like they were a couple the entire time and he just hadn’t noticed, with all the bickering and taunting.

Nevertheless, Steve laughed, “This will be easy getting used to.” He admitted, still focused on his paper.

“What’s gotten into you?” Bucky accused Wanda, even though he knew she was just messing with him.

“I’ve never seen you like this, it’s weird.” She explained, a disgusted look on her face, “I’m starting to think I want you to go back to your glum and glimmy self.”

“Not if I’m here.” Sam negated the possibility, sitting back on the couch, but not half as snugged and sunk as before.

The young woman cringed even harder at the sound of that, “Ew.”

Steve rose his sight to give Wanda an amused look, only for his eyes to be hyper-aware of the person walking in. Natasha stepped through the doors with a work tablet in hand and a preoccupied, vague expression.

Steve was the first to notice, “What is it?” he asked her in that very leader-ish tone that characterized him.

The redhead breathed, almost pacing, “I got a tip for a next mission. Looks pretty clean.”

Sam knew when Natasha was worried. It wasn’t hard to miss, but it also seemed like it wasn’t an urgent, life or death matter, thus he simply gave her a push so that she could explain the matter as quick as possible.

“And?”

The woman directed her eyes to Bucky, then at Sam, and she talked to the latter, exclusively. In fact, as she spoke, not even once did she take her eyes an inch away from Sam’s.

“It’s a Hydra base.” She set the information loose, ripped the Band-Aid off, “One of the last ones.”

Sam tensed up immediately, whereas, as attentive as he was to the smallest shift in Bucky’s breathing, he didn’t feel him tense up.

“Let me go see it.” Wilson stood up, meaning they should talk about it far away from the common room.

“Yeah, that’s probably better.” Nat agreed.

Ten seconds went by after the pair left the room, and the room was still immersed in sepulchral silence. When the sound of their heels died down in the distance, Steve stood up, not saying a word, and followed behind.

Bucky raised his eyebrows to himself, sourly, “That was smooth.” He said sarcastically.

Wanda felt sorry for his friend, seeing the way the other three had handled the situation.

“They just don’t wanna… trigger you, or whatever.” She tried to ease the awkwardness while standing up from her seat.

She plopped down on the couch next to him, rested her head on his shoulder and hugged her legs to her body. She was snugging close to him, almost like trying to fill the void Sam had just left, since she noticed how Bucky had grown accustomed to physical comfort.

“Well, I’m fine.” Bucky replied dryly and with a clear hint of annoyance, “I can deal with it.”

“I know that.” At the lack of reaction, Maximoff lifted her head and frowned up at the man, “Hey. I know that. And I’m sure they… sort of know that, too.”

That uncertainty caused Bucky to snort, for not even the person supposed to be comforting him believed that to be true.

“Yeah, well. They already think I’m a ticking time bomb, right?”

As much as Wanda wished to speak the truth, she also didn’t know the answer for sure. Maybe they did expect Bucky to crumble at any moment. Maybe Rhodey or Steve or Tony or even Natasha didn’t see how resilient the man had been, and therefore, were just waiting for him to crack under pressure. She couldn’t know.

“I don’t think Sam believes that.” She said honestly, for that’s really all she had, “I think he trusts your mind as much as I do, which is a lot.”

But Bucky didn’t seem convinced. Can’t convince someone of something you’re not sure about yourself. So she offered everything she could and held his hand in hers.

“What do we say?” she asked for him to recite the comfort words they had set themselves.

Bucky nodded, agreeing to recite them, because agreeing to verse it meant he believed the words at that exact moment.

“We are not their weapon.” He spoke in that tone which one uses when narrating a memorized passage, “They did not create us.”

“That’s right.”

While Bucky digested the saying, assuredly trusting the meaning of it, Wanda took a big breath. It was never a good time when they had to resort to the mantra, and remembering their gloomy past never brought a smile to their faces. They continued watching TV, pretending to not be thinking about whatever the other heroes were discussing.

A full day passed, and Sam still hadn’t received a single opinion nor approach from his soulmate. He assumed he had to ask about the tense subject himself, but the timing was never right, because for the past twenty-four hours, Bucky hadn’t spent more than five minutes with him. Deep in the most concealed parts of his mind, where he was sometimes selfish, Sam felt a little offended. He understood, however, the logical reason behind Bucky’s reservations.

That didn’t mean he didn’t think he should end the secrecy. So Wilson walked inside Bucky’s room, seeing the door wide open, and heard the noise of a human coming from the bathroom. He found Bucky brushing his teeth, and he leaned on the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Hey.” He spoke rather gently, “Are you avoiding me?"

"I'm brushing my teeth.” Barnes answered like it was nothing, although it was muffled by the toothpaste; he spat the foamy liquid on the sink before talking again, “Didn't think you'd be so clingy."

"I'm serious." Sam lowered his tone.

That caused Bucky to turn serious as well. He rinsed his mouth with water, then cleaned his face with the questionably fresh towel that was laying around.

"Of course I'm not.” He was genuine this time, but he still walked to his room, which made Sam think that he definitely was being avoided before, “What's wrong?"

"They moved the operation.” Sam followed behind, “We gotta head down tomorrow."

"Okay."

"You got nothing to say?” Wilson insisted, earning a simple shrug from his partner, “Buck, come on. I'm just worried, 's all. I don't think you should come."

"I'm fine. Why wouldn't I?” Bucky sat on an armchair to put on his shoes.

For all Sam knew, he had caught Bucky during his morning routine, but through his currently paranoid brain, it seemed like the soldier had chosen to do all that stuff to keep himself busy and not having to engage in a heavy heart-to-heart. And Sam simply wished to look Bucky in the eye and get the truth out of him, but he realized that was a little egoist.

By the time Wilson was done with his careful thinking, Bucky had both shoes on and was standing to fulfill another task.

"Because." Sam started while Bucky walked past him; he sighed, "Just be honest. If you don't wanna join, no one will blame you."

"Yeah, you will."

The easiness which Bucky spat that out with made Sam frown. Although Bucky looked for something inside his closet, Sam walked closer and held his arm tenderly as a way of asking him to turn around.

"No, we won't." Sam lowered his head, believing the accusation to be as far off as possible.

"You said it yourself, Sam.” Bucky tilted his head, “You think I'm a lazy-ass for not doing shit all day and never showing up to meetings."

The words were harsh. But they weren’t one hundred percent false. Sam took a step back, his head falling down as he pinched the bridge of his nose. He remembered all the times he’d call Bucky those exact things as a joke, before they knew about the bond. Back when their way of interacting consisted of mean teasing and fake disqualifications.

"I'm sorry.” He let out along with a big puff of air, “I never said that for real, though-"

"But you did.” Barnes interrupted him, “ ’Cause it's true."

"No, it's not.” Sam rushed to put both hands on Bucky’s arms, the softest way possible, yet in a desperate attempt to get through Bucky’s thick skull, “You can take all the time you need to get back into superhero gig."

"Back?”

There was a moment of silence, of absolute uncertainty from Sam’s part, before he decided to let go of Bucky’s hold. Clearly, there were many things on his soulmate’s mind that he didn’t know about. And sadly enough, there was no one to blame. It was just how things rolled out to be. Which was why Sam simply waited for Bucky to speak up.

Which he did, in an upset tone, “No, Sam, I… I've never been much of a hero to begin with. That’s you, you were one before the Avengers, saving lives in goddamn Afghanistan. Hell, saving depressed veteran's lives-"

"Watch it." Wilson had to remind him to still be respectful, even if Bucky’s frustration was being directed towards him.

Bucky came to his senses and stopped before taking a breath.

"My point is, I'm not you. I was a dumb kid enlisting to shoot some Nazis. Then I was some dumb kid following m'boy Steve to shoot some Nazis. Then I was whatever they made of me."

Wilson shook his head, "You're more than that. You're more than them."

"Maybe.” Bucky found himself saying something that contradicted his and Wanda’s mantra, and it shattered his own heart for a second, “Won't find that out unless I start facing them, instead of lying here watching TV all day."

Sam, once again, reached for his partner physically by placing his hands on Bucky’s shoulders, this time his grasp a little more invasive.

"So you wanna prove yourself, okay. Do it for you. Not for the team, not for Hydra. Not even for me."

"I have to.” Bucky insisted, raising his voice and drawing disappointed eyebrows on Wilson, “Sam, you're the good guy. I've never been that guy, if I could just...”

When he noticed how hyperventilated he had turned, Bucky cut himself off. Sam waited patiently as the man looked down and shut his eyes.

Bucky started whispering to himself, “We’re not their weapon. They did not create us.”

Sam couldn’t miss it.

“What’s that?” He asked cautiously.

When Bucky looked up at him, there was the tiniest bit of fear in his pupils. Now that he thought about it, the action of mumbling to himself, he thought, must have made Sam think he’s crazy. Plus, in Bucky’s mind, Sam already believed him to be a tad unstable, so he began regretting doing it in the first place.

But he kept it together and replied as nonchalant as he could, given the circumstances.

“Just something Wanda and I say. To, you know… remember.” He brushed it off.

Sam wasn’t having none of that minimizing crap. Inside that previously mentioned, recondite place in his brain where he sometimes was selfish, he desired to know Bucky’s every thought. Outside that brain section, he understood why that was not only impossible but also a foul wish, which is why he kept it locked there, in his selfish box; it still didn’t negate the fact that he hoped to understand Bucky as much as Bucky could make himself understood. Balancing all that, Sam didn’t push too far, but kept his tone flat and familiar.

“Remember what?”

Bucky bit the inside of his cheek for a second before loosening his tense shoulders and responding truthfully, “That we were people before they experimented on us.”

It made sense to Sam in a way that it didn’t; he got the message, but he couldn’t possibly understand how it felt to be neither Wanda nor Bucky. Sam had never been transformed and made into a weapon. His issues with the Army would never compare to being Hydra’s pet, or Strucker’s pet, and it made sense that they would bond over that simple, and at the same time very complex premise: No matter what they did to them or made them do, they were someone to begin with. They changed them, but they do not control this version of them. They are their own people.

Sam couldn’t conceal his sad grin, as he thought that the saying, the mutuality of it and the shared experience, was the nicest thing he’d heard, however it was also unbelievably sad that they needed one.

Bucky didn’t appreciate the pitiful look.

“This is what I mean, you… you think I’m so goddamn breakable.”

“I think you’re exactly the opposite.” Sam corrected him, “You’re the strongest man I’ve ever met. But you can also give yourself a break, you know that? Taking down a Hydra base might be too much.”

Barnes accepted the words, although he didn’t give up his initiative.

“I’ll never know if I don’t push myself.” He suddenly turned to Sam’s eyes as if they were some sort of haven, which, in some level they were, “ ‘sides, you’ll be there with me, right?”

“Yes.” Sam pushed the affirmation almost aggressively, not even waiting for Bucky to finish his thought, “Yes, of course.” He forced Bucky into a hug.

Being the tough love kind of guy, Bucky surrendered to the physical gesture and let his head fall on Sam’s shoulder.

#sambucky #sam wilson/bucky barnes #sam wilson #bucky barnes #tfatws #the falcon and the winter soldier #sambucky fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #sambucky fluff #soulmate au #sam/bucky #sam wilson x bucky barnes

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psalloacappella · 4 years

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Sirens - Ch 4

Title: Sirens Pairing: SasuSaku obv Chapter: IV / Ao3 | FF Additional Details: AU verse; Sakura isn’t here to be saved, but she also has a lot of secrets; Sasuke has daddy issues; always hot mess express

“I assumed you would be picking me up from a station one day,” he says. Hates himself for the heat in his face that seems to crop up only in conversation with her.

With a wry smile, she responds, “So we’re both very lucky little delinquents.”

On the 28th day after they’ve met, she calls him from a police station.

On an unassuming Friday evening in which the bar is quite busy and all three of them are running ragged — well, Shikamaru is in the back office plodding through routine tasks even though Sasuke bestows his signature, smoldering, get your smoking lazy ass in the front look, pointed and serious, which does nothing to ward off the women lingering and coiling like clingy plant tendrils, hoping for a second of his time. By mere virtue of his pretty face, he’s left to the night wolves.

Naruto, sidetracked and distracted from bartending by a loquacious brunette with hair in two buns and blunt-cut bangs, hears it first.

Completing her drink full of gin as sharp as the flashy knives she’s rolled in with, he places an orange peel in it with a flourish and gives her a nervous, dangling half-smile. Cute, but her hobby is definitely one for someone more adventurous and decidedly not for him. Still, her grin suggests a gentler side and as he slides the cocktail to her, he reflects perhaps it’s something he can overlook.

“Thanks,” she says. “And keep it open; my friends and I just arrived.”

“No problem,” he responds, preparing to move on to the next.

“Ah, one thing . . .” Her eyes, a color in between hazy shades of silver and hazel, beckon him closer. Naruto inclines his head and leans in to hear her against the noise.

“I have to ask, who is he?”

Nods her chin at Sasuke, who hands off the next drink with the most minute, fleeting smile he can bestow, more of a movement of the head than any actual friendliness. There’s always an easy grace about him and frankly, paired with his looks, it’s infuriating to Naruto how a person can be given such tall, dark, and handsome sexuality and miserably fail to wield it.

A quiet chuckle, and he whispers, “A bastard, honestly.”

Interpreting it as a joke, she giggles.

“Seriously, he’s just complicated. You’re welcome to try, though.”

Lifting the cocktail and pinning a napkin to the perspiring glass with her fingernails, she winks and disappears into the crowd.

Naruto then hears what he thought he had before but shook off as his imagination — the ringing of a phone sounding not like the stock default tone of a mobile but the staid ring of importance, belonging to a lawyer’s desk or doctor’s office. Not the one in his pocket, but the one on the wall that hardly ever makes a sound and overall, hasn’t been used in any useful capacity since a month ago.

It rings longer than it should; he wonders if they have voicemail. That’s definitely a Sasuke question. He’s drawn to the unusual event and though he’s unable to put a finger on it, there’s an air of happenstance and fate. Put that way, it sounds like he’s crazy or clairvoyant.

Frowning, he puts up a finger to the next patron crowding the bar and says, “Be right with ya.”

Sasuke of course hears it too, though he’s currently drowning in a deluge of women who likely already have drinks in their hands but are eager to talk to him longer than necessary. If the bland expressions of disinterest, slivers between each interaction, aren’t enough indication, perhaps the kind but firm manner in which he ignores the flirting and lingering touches as they connect to exchange liquor and money is; the inquiries glossed with a breezy veneer but trying to gain a foothold on what he considers inappropriate topics and details. Glaring at Naruto over his shoulder, who’s treating this unanticipated phone call with more solemnity than he’s ever offered anything else in his life, he savagely wishes he had picked it up instead if only to get away.

They meet one another’s eyes. He’s known him long enough that it betrays its importance.

Extricating himself from a woman with blue hair and a sparkling silver chin labret, he leans in close and waits for details. Naruto covers the receiver and says, “It’s her. Your girlfriend.”

“She’s not my—”

“Maybe go to the office. Sounds important.”

A sensation in his gut, dripping dread. “Transfer it,” he says impatiently.

“Ah, I don’t think I— oh!” Naruto puts the phone back to his ear, listening to Sakura speak. Realizing it’s upside-down, he fumbles it. Nodding, he says, “Sure, he’s here. Jus’ let me . . .”

Jabbing a button on it, triumphant, he’s energetic and proud like a puppy as he slaps the phone back onto the wall with gusto. Grins.

A beat. Another.

“You fucking idiot,” he snaps, yanking it back off the wall. Pointing at the correct button, Sasuke’s eyes dance with what looks like the casual threat of homicide. Slams it back so hard his friend flinches. “If you hang up on her again—”

The ring echoes in stark contrast to his fury, and he snatches it up as Naruto opens his mouth. “Yes?”

“Not how your mom taught you to answer a phone,” Naruto whispers, shaking his head. Pivoting to show him an irritated shoulder, it’s the closest equivalent to a fuck off that Sasuke can give in full view of the bar. He strains to hear her over the din.

And then, there she is sounding so close. Echoes of the way her whispers curl and settle in his ear when she slips out of his bed, reverberating in the silent days that follow when she disappears on a schedule all her own, known only to one. Twenty-eight days can caricature a lifetime, a narrative he can clearly see in his mind’s eye, even if she’s weaving in and out of his life and their reality for most of it. It doesn’t bother him so much as long as she returns.

The strain of her lovely voice is noticeable, tensed twine. The way people speak in crowded rooms on terse topics and desperately carve a bubble of personal space for private, intimate words.

“I’m always speaking to you in unconventional ways. Always odd and in the dead of night.” Humor painted over the tightness of her vocal cords and wavering at the end, the tremolo of an instrument approaching repose.

“Are you all right?” Sasuke brings the receiver closer. No sounds from others on her end, just a gloomy quiet and possibly shuffling paper.

“Sure,” she says, laughing a little. A nervous skittering. “I always end up in police stations on my off nights.”

The beat that follows skips, stalls, as if there’s a space ballooning between each begging to be filled.

“Which one? I’m coming.”

“Sasuke—”

“Are you hurt?” The way he asks this is a gentleness defying his usual prickliness, so soft. Enough that Naruto glances at him over his shoulder as he manages the throng, piqued by the whispers.

“No! No, not really. I’m not sure what’s going on. They brought me here and I was sure I’d be arrested—”

“Sakura—”

“—but I don’t think so. No handcuffs, no fingerprinting. But this officer’s definitely not sure what to do with me.”

“Don’t talk to them. Just wait.”

Before she can protest, he hangs up abruptly. To Naruto: “I have to go. She needs help.”

“Is she okay?” Naruto sends another customer off, trying to hide his worried eyes. A mark of the short catalysts required for the fascinating chemistry of bonding, of friendship. She becomes a fixture for two wandering men with the inevitably and grace of astronomic orbits crossing paths.

“Police station,” he mutters.

Sasuke heads for the back office, not seeing Naruto’s eyes wilt even more as he goes.

Whipping open the door, he ignores the fact that Shikamaru was absolutely asleep a moment before all over a scattering of ledgers and rouses him with his classic abrasion. “Get out front. I need to handle something.” To drive home the point, pulls his jacket off the hook and swings it on quickly.

“Ah, right,” Shikamaru rasps, rubbing the indented depressions and ink off his face. “Emergency?”

“Sort of,” Sasuke mumbles. Reaches into his jacket pocket and casts about, in his mind, on who he can ask to dig into a situation that hasn’t yet yielded an arrest.

He always knows someone, though. The curse of the name.

“It’s that girl, isn’t it?”

Sasuke surveys him from the threshold, already aiming to leave. He wonders what he must look like when he thinks of her, when she’s in a room and has her beautiful hands on him, because the expression Shikamaru’s giving him is inscrutable and poignant all in one. She has the uncanny ability to splay his heart as a cadaver, pinned and primed for inspection. And it always feels that everyone understands something beyond him.

“Go,” Shikamaru says. “We’re here too, if you need us.”

He nods in response, and doesn’t bother with the zipper as he jogs down the hall to swing open the back door and depart into the night.

A well-placed phone call later, he’s at the police station front desk in an unfamiliar trendy neighborhood, asking after a girl with pink hair whose last name he doesn’t have.

“Pink, you said?” An austere expression creeps into the desk manager’s brows, sinks into her jowls; sharpness in her eyes. Clearly regarding him, and this, as ludicrous.

“Probably fake,” he volunteers. “She was brought in a couple hours ago.”

“‘Probably fake,’” the woman echoes, setting down her pen.

Anxiety flits about in his chest, a moth stuck in a dangerous, fated tryst with lamplight.

A door opens to the right of the front desk and an officer leans over the threshold. Serious and composed in contrast, badges gleaming. “Uchiha Sasuke?”

“Yes.” It’s a reflex, something about the way he speaks reminding him of another imposing, authoritarian presence that still lingers at the edge of his nightmares. Never quite sure if he’s relieved or regretful that he’s gone. Growing up, everything was suffused with it, the power and the name.

“She’s back here. Oh, he’s with me, no need for that,” he says to the woman. Waves a hand, blithe, sweeping away the very notion of procedure.

Sasuke follows him down a hallway expecting to be taken to holding cells, and the creeping familiar feeling settles into his shoulders. Instead, the officer sighs, yawns. They stop outside of a closed office door.

“Listen, this Sakura, your girlfriend? She’s fine. I’m apt to believe what happened, but the scene got — well, it was disorderly, let’s say that. We talked a little and the little lady she was defending is with her, too. Once she mentioned your name, well,” and here he puts what’s intended as a fatherly hand on Sasuke’s shoulder, who glances at it surreptitiously, “I knew and respected your father. Head of your family, very helpful to us over the years.”

Unable to express the fleeting, frenzied analysis that takes place as he’s speaking, the myriad implications, defending someone, little lady, girlfriend, my father, helpful, and the swift undercurrent of distaste at the remembrance of his family name, how his father was a pillar rather than any sort of parent or individual, and how reputation always came first: Sasuke nods a few times and swallows everything he wants to say, instead responding, “I . . . appreciate this.”

Nodding once, satisfied presumably at staying in a dead man’s good graces by way of assisting his son, he smiles broadly. Such a contrast to the way his father ever did, who perpetually seemed sour. Still, many men can commandeer space whether with a jovial smile or the most straightforward intimidation.

They both startle as the door clicks open: Sakura in the left chair and a woman with long, luscious dark hair on the right. They exist as another illustration of contrasts — hair colors on opposite sides of spectrums saturating the drab, taupe-beige space, one’s eyes green and sharp and the other’s, soft and mottled, cream.

There’s a spark of recognition when he glances at the unknown girl, a feminine personage and assumed offspring of a family he’s met before, perhaps as a child. Now though, nothing resonates. Instead he watches Sakura, who tucks a strand of pink hair behind her ear and meets his eyes, lips tugging into a smile despite the circumstances.

Does she know she could get away with anything with a face like that? Sasuke’s heart skips uncomfortably, the sensation of missing a step in some stairs.

When she sits up from the chair and sways, it’s the other woman who catches her first. By the forearm, and with a butterfly-delicate touch.

“Hah, I forgot,” Sakura mutters, more to herself than them. With a weak grin at her companion, she explains, “My ankle.”

“What happened to you?” Sasuke asks. Frowning, he passes the pad of his thumb across her cheek to sweep away what he assumes is cosmetic. It smears and fades but stubbornly stays.

And he knows that color more than he’s ever wanted to.

Sakura winces. “You should see the other guy.”

“I can explain,” the officer offers. Taking a seat behind his desk with another dismal yawn, Sasuke stands behind Sakura’s chair. Heat dashes across the back of his neck in irritation, confusion; she uses his arm as leverage to lower herself into the chair, intensifying the cloying atmosphere. The other woman keeps her head down, bowed. A familiar gesture.

“The ladies here were at a popular lounge downtown, separately. From their statements, they arrived at different times and did not know one another before tonight.” Pausing, his eyes sweep between the two, offering space for contradiction or comment. He continues. “Neither were unreasonably intoxicated. Over the course of the night, miss Hyuuga here,” and that name sparks something in Sasuke’s mind, neurons seeking details, “was dealing with the unwanted attentions of an intoxicated young man. At some point, miss . . . oh, the ink is smudged. Sakura, here, approached her,” here he flips an upturned palm to indicate her —

“Hinata,” she says quietly, inclining her head to Sasuke.

“— concerned for her well-being around this man. He apparently had friends as well, and the situation escalated to alleged harassment. Heated words were exchanged, bystanders becoming involved, and unfortunately it progressed to this man grabbing miss Hyuuga, and, well—”

“He received a face full of gimlet,” Sakura interrupts, folding her arms. “And then my fist.”

“You punched him?” Sharp, inquiring, but bewildered.

“No, with a palm to the nose. I didn’t want a broken hand.”

Sasuke’s mouth opens, but nothing comes out. The officer winces and glances at Sasuke, under the assumption perhaps that he’s already aware of her tart retorts and lives lovingly with them.

There’s a pause, and Hinata yearns to fill the gap. “If she hadn’t been there to intervene, I don’t know how it would have gone. I truly, really appreciate what she did, even if it was, ah, unorthodox?” She smiles at Sakura, then the officer, and finally Sasuke. “Her form is quite good,” she adds, blushing furiously.

“Look, I don’t think we’re in the business of charging anyone tonight.” The officer has both palms up now in a show of calm.

“I asked you before, I’m not sure why you’re just letting me go,” Sakura says, sounding accusing. Folds her arms across her chest. “I understand why I’m here. I don’t know if that’s right, for nothing to be written up.”

“There’s much to be said for defense.” The tiniest air of condescending patience, a parent refusing to elaborate for a child. Redirecting his attention, he says to Hinata, “Your father will be here soon.”

The way Hinata bows her head again, bent as grass in the wind as if ready to bear difficulty, resonates with Sasuke deeply. A father whose existence was imposing and a relationship fraught with the inability to measure up.

Sakura pulls her phone out of her shimmering shirt with two fingers, plucking it from the magical ether with a certain polite grace in front of the men, and hands it to the woman next to her. Blushing, Hinata fumbles with the latch on a small clutch in her haste to exchange numbers.

Upon finishing, Sakura asks if there’s anything for her to sign.

“No no,” he says, again with that wave. A brushing away of rules and regulations by the mere implication of his authority. ��Let your boyfriend take you home, rest that ankle.”

Pink eyebrows could brush the ceiling with how high they rise; Hinata steals a glance but doesn’t make a sound. As if relenting to the chain of events, the circumstances weaving far from the controlled loom of her own hands, Sakura’s shoulders sag and accepting Sasuke’s arm plays out as the next movement in a piece of music, an obvious outcome.

They stand apart on the sidewalk: Him in all black from the work he hastily left, her in a shimmering shirt, barefoot, sandals in her hand. The bruised knot on her ankle matches the navy of her skirt. For a few moments, they don’t speak.

She doesn’t cry, doesn’t unravel, simply stands on the chilled sidewalk and idly swings her fingers with the sandal straps woven in them in time to an unheard rhythm. Noticing her shivering, his coat becomes hers once more, draped over her shoulders and covering the spatters of red and an abundance of glitter inherited from the lounge that will take days to erase, months to lose in the fibers of his carpet.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” she says softly. “Got me off the hook.”

“I didn’t.”

A noise of disbelief, settling in the throat. Constrained.

“He said he knew and respected my father. That happens often.”

Musing on this, she turns and raises her eyes to his. “It must be interesting, to have people grant that to you wherever you go.”

She’s quite short without her shoes. Wilting and exhausted, withdrawing in a way that could leave her as mere wisps as clouds on a cold night.. Even in this tension and the aftermath of another surreal chapter in a chaotic narrative, the urge to sweep glitter off her cheeks and lift her, carrying her off to another planet, is strong and vivid.

“I assumed you would be picking me up from a station one day,” he says. Hates himself for the heat in his face that seems to crop up only in conversation with her.

With a wry smile, she responds, “So we’re both very lucky little delinquents.”

But her face falls, humor dissipating. When she falls against him, only then do her fears take shape between them. “This is why I leave.” Arms around him and fingers in the fabric of his shirt to stay upright. “Because strange things always happen and it always feels like I can’t stop any of it. Like fate.”

Taking on her weight, his fingers find strands of her hair dancing aloft from the wind; they slip through like silk. When he speaks, it’s a quiet murmur. “Sounds like that girl needed your help.”

“Both of them made it sound much more noble than it was.”

Untangling from him, she passes the back of her hand over her eyes, green and glimmering even in the wan, washed out glow of streetlights. Continues, letting weight off her bruised ankle. “The truth is, I was dancing and tipsy and full of false bravado, and spoiling for a fight. He just happened to trip into my orbit, stupidly bothering someone in front of me. The perfect storm of circumstances.”

Following the movements of her lips, an ache radiating in his chest; how can she tell him not to fall in love with her?

“Isn’t that everything?”

His words seem to take the wind out of her sails. Breath stolen, strength gone. She concedes his point with a small smile and nothing more.

Wincing as she readjusts her weight, he’s about to tell her he’ll find a car when she steps forward to the curb, albeit wobbly, and firmly thrusts an arm out, reaching into the blank night. Leaving him always wondering on her earthly origins as she summons one from the dead street with the enchantment of nothing other than her will.

They fall in against the seats, drunk on nothing but novelty.

As she pulls him close by his lapels and dips her tongue into his mouth

— skin humming and warm, as if she’s still moving and undulating underneath hot lounge lights; music in her bones, the echoes of beats hours before; a tang of tartness and botanics, the tastes on her lips that she shares with his; the sharp inhale that tumbles out when she pulls away and nips his bottom lip —

he’s apt to wonder which cabs they haven’t kissed in yet.

Damp locks fanned beneath her head, pink waves splayed wide as if dropped from above with the luck to land and lie tenderly in a field, cradled by earth. But it’s just her on the couch, chin crushed to her chest and face partially obscured, half of it pressed into the cushion as if burrowing for sleep.

“So I know I’ve asked you for enough already.”

It’s a tentative beginning, leaving a question unasked. Sasuke moves his thumb in light and repetitive movements against her ankle, skimming the fabric of the wrapping. She opens one jade eye, brilliant even in the twilight. He makes some noise of assent, and she continues.

“I have this work event,” she says. “It’s stupid, really, but I think it’s somewhat of a formal thing. I tried to get out of it, I did, but one evening the owner of the company — the actual company, not the manager of our subsidiary media branch or whatever — was around listening to my show and he spoke to me afterward.” She frowns, the expression of a sour conversation in her mind. “Anyway, he strongly implied it was an event that you wear something nice, and bring someone with. All above my usual social standing.

She pauses to blow a strand of hair from her face, then looks askance, eyes concentrating hard on the cushion.

“I need someone who’s good at these things. Navigating events like this, all those important people with wealth and to know what they’re actually saying, not just what comes out of their mouths.”

Her meaning is plain: Who better than you?

Not speaking just yet, he instead places a hand on her thigh; hours later her skin still hums, pliant and warm and dashed with glitter missed from her wash.

She shifts beneath his touch, nudging his fingers in an unconscious request. Staring at him fully with open eyes which survey each atom of his face in incisive and keen patterns, memorizing. The sensation, again, of the precipice and the twinge in his stomach and swift wind in his ears, obscuring hearing, drowning out any rational thought. Testing the notion, his hand skims the hem of her skirt; the tug of her lips which stifles a sharp inhale isn’t enough to go on, but the way her eyes brighten as he maneuvers her body easily, considerately, and he’s feeling like the desired target at the barrel end of a poised rifle —

she, eager and him, obsessed.

She trembles like aftershocks — hips caged in by his arms and his handsome chin so close and the fleeting thought of yanking him by his beautiful dark hair and making a mess of that gorgeous face is only to be postponed for another thirty seconds, maybe.

“So,” she exhales, “Will you be my date?”

He responds simply, “Yes.”

An amused smile on her face, eyes alight. “Sometimes, you’re a man of few words.”

Shifting again, her hips sinking into a softer dip in the cushion with a little satisfied sigh. Prompting him to continue the charged venture between her thighs, where his fingers from before are replaced by his lips and the catch of air in her throat is enough to rouse him. Vulnerable things, stupid things, rise to his lips and he swallows them whole, and she senses them; he’s defenseless enough to cough them into her waiting, shaking hands. Instead he whispers against the hot skin of her thigh:

“Do you trust me?”

Sakura reflects it’s a trite question to ask, much less to answer, with him between her legs. Fingers plucking at the edge of her skirt, she says, “Yes.”

And the rest is a whisper lost in her gasp, because despite her caution she’s a failure at any rational thought like this, so dizzy and losing the concept of what’s real and what’s bliss, and it’s possible it was never voiced at all.

But only just.

Bringing him to life with her soft hands on each side of his face and the fruity scent of her shampoo, she whispers, “I’m starving.”

On the floor, both sprawled out on his luxuriant living room rug, verdant like lush jungle and comfortable enough to serve as the night’s chaise. Neither’s slept for much time, the sun’s aurora crowning the horizon with a prophetic red crescent. Again, waking up next to her has the unmooring sensation of devastation and they’re scattered as debris.

They pull the previous night together in languid movements: Refolding blankets, resetting pillows. Quick face rinses. She limps around on her own despite his quiet protests, intent on breakfast — food this time.

“I’m okay,” she laughs, running her hands over counters and underneath couch cushions. Likely her phone.

Sasuke finds it facedown on the floor, and flips it over. Immediately it lights up and reveals messages upon messages, and as another comes in they flash again, regroup as they hit a limit. Blinding in the dark. All of them from the same number, unsaved, tender and worried and beseeching in a way that doesn’t strike him as a lover and his heart rate falls but the way Naruto has messaged him after disappearing without preamble in a seedy bar or out a back alley, intent on a scuffle with someone to make him feel alive. A best friend who’s rescued another one from numerous poor decisions and choices when they’re feeling low like a layer beneath dirt.

The sound of her nails clicking against the case and scraping his skin startles him as it’s snatched from his hands; it’s a rough motion, jarring. Eyes jejune and dismayed. Emotional whiplash from the previous second as she swallows hard and clutches it to her chest and a sense of an animal cornered.

“Don’t,” she hisses.

“Sakura—”

“It’s none of your business.”

“Are you all right?”

Sliding it into her pocket, she pivots away; he takes her forearm and she shakes him off with the same ferocity with which she usually pulls him close. “Fine.”

“Would you be honest if you weren’t?”

Lips twitching, a response he can see her holding in. Instead, she swings her purse onto her shoulder in a wide arc that keeps him at arm’s length and makes an attempt to limp out the door with her chin high. She’s moving too fast on that sprain and he knows that she knows, pre-med and all, (and from the way she’s discussed it, close to finishing.)

He heads out the front door after her, snatching up his jacket and keys as he goes.

Frustration mounts as she punches the door close button with a loud smack so he has to take the next one. Head spinning at the shift in it all and the horrible weariness that surfaced in her eyes; and everyone has something like that, the trigger to the shutdown and a signal to bar the doors. Taps his foot impatiently at the elevator ride that seems to last for years.

Lobby, out the doors. She’s crossing the street against the lights, and he calls after her.

“Sakura!”

“Leave me alone!”

Bewildered, he plunges forward into the crosswalk—

The screech and hiss and smell of overworked brake pads; at the loud thumping sound Sakura pivots with a small scream mingling with cursing and raised voices—

Sasuke waves the driver’s screaming and his near-fatal experience away with the same annoyance of flicking away an insect, and it seems to bring him to an aggressive and lethal sort of calm. Something in his shoulders and jaw that lifts him, comprises control. And now she’s loath to move, feeling rooted to the spot by his glimmering dark eyes and the aberrant brush with catastrophe that intertwines their souls delicate as lace. Thinking perhaps he can survive even me, knowing as he advances that she could fall into his arms and he would break bones and move the world to remain in her space; he would lay it all at her feet.

Raises a hand to him, reaching as he safely makes it onto the sidewalk—

A thin arm causes her to pull up short, a horizontal barrier swung firmly into her path. Stumbling a little, she follows the long blonde hair with her eyes and drinks in the stance of this woman with her back to her.

Something breaks, a ballpoint hammer to a vulnerable crack in her decrepit heart.

“You better back off!” A voice Sakura knows in every fiber of her being, rattling her bones. Sasuke stops in his tracks at the sight of this blonde woman in his path, and shows his palms in conciliation and confusion.

With a toss of her hair, the woman turns to Sakura and holds her at arm’s length like she’s sprung from the grave, reborn and she’s unable to believe it. Fingering her long hair and her eyes so blue, ocean and skies, beg for recognition. “It’s me. It’s Ino!”

Mouth falling open, Ino takes her lack of response as shock and shakes her head in a rapid motion, back and forth. “Shit, Sakura. I’ve been looking — I found you.” Laughs in a light trailing way, stunned. Voice revealing a lightheadedness, a lovely giddiness.

Without warning she tackles her in a violent hug, the vehement and frenzied embrace of someone whose whole of her soul was lost and then found. Fingers clutching at hair and fabric and then Sakura obliges, relents and their behavior’s the same, scrabbling and wavering voices.

Sasuke watches as Sakura lets her chin rest, heavy and weary, on Ino’s shoulder. The reunification of two who have traveled on significant roads alongside one another, the mortar and brick of what he recognizes as found family.

Tears cutting salty paths down Sakura’s cheeks as Ino says again,

“I found you.”

#sasusaku #sasusakufanfic #AU verse #ssfanfic #psallocappella #psalloacappella:sirens

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hydra-collector · 4 years

Text

a sanders sides analysis of “far“

far, if you’re not aware (which honestly you probably werent) is an album by regina spektor (the same one as ‘one more time with feeling’ from logan’s playlist) and regina spektor has songs that work weirdly well with sanders sides so i’m going to give each song on the album a side. i might do this again with ‘what we saw from the cheap seats’ but its not as weirdly perfect as far.

this ended up being really long, so it’s under the cut.

the calculation: logan, no question. it’s basically about trying to 'calculate’ love from what they saw around them, mostly in media, because don’t understand it. they’re desperate to make it work, so they try again and again “beating their hearts against each other” and eventually, it sparks. intrulogical if you’d like someone to pair it with, since roman has all the romance with thomas.

eet: this one was more difficult, but i think its a lot of patton. after all, the summary on genius literally says “’Eet’ is a wistful, introspective song brimming with nostalgia. The overarching themes seem to be about a person’s development of morality through their experience in their childhood.” it connects a lot to ‘moving on’ in that respect, where thomas wishes he could go back to the times he remembered in patton’s room. if you don’t already know, eet is the backspace key on a typewriter, but since it actually prints letters, you can’t really go back. i also think the line “using your headphones to drown out your mind” is perfect for virgil. i think in “someone’s deciding whether or not to steal/he opens a window just to feel the chill/he hears that outside a small boy just started to cry/’cause it’s his turn, but his brother won’t let him try” janus could be the thief, trying to decide what thomas should take for himself, and obviously remus would be the brother that’s crying because he doesn’t get his turn to be listened to.

blue lips: janus or logan. part of it is kind of like an analysis of society, but it’s mostly about death and aging, which i think both of them will have thought about. the line “the pictures in his mind awoke/and began to breed” definitely reminds me of remus, intrusive thoughts and stuff. its preceded in one verse by “and no one saw and no one heard/they just followed lead” which i think could be about how thomas won’t let himself talk about remus’s thoughts, or janus’s lies, or even logan being tired of how thomas just tries to do everything everyone else does.

folding chair: roman, i think. part of it, patton, maybe. it’s hard to articulate exactly what i mean, but i think a lot of it has to do with being tired and lonely. i think maybe what i’m thinking with roman is that he’s been living so long one kind of way, but it’s not a happy kind of way. like he wants to do something (maybe flashbacks to ‘broadway here i come’ mayybe) or become a dark side, but he’s scared. “now i’ve been sitting on this abandoned beach for years/waiting for the salty water to cover up my ears/but every time the tide comes in to take me home/i get scared, and i’m sitting here alone.” i’m still not completely sure why this came off as roman to me, but maybe someone else would see it better. i don’t think it fits nearly as well as the other songs, but hey, i said i’d do all of them.

machine: janus or logan. kind of surprised it’s not a definite ‘logan,’ with its name, but it’s a lot about society and there’s a transition from “pre-war apartment” to “post-war apartment” which doesn’t fit logan very well at all. and rather than being ‘i am a machine,’ it’s “i’m hooked into machine.” i think that implies that the machine is society (forgive me if that doesn’t make much sense, genius doesn’t have much on this one) because we’re so intertwined, so connected to each other and functioning as a society, possibly how the government wants us to. some of the lyrics make me think it’s about some alternate universe, like “I collect my moments/into a correspondence/with a mightier power/who just lacks my perspective/and who lacks my organics/and who covets my defects,” which is the only reason i didn’t take logan out of the characters completely.

laughing with: janus, if he’s singing it sarcastically. i think he would be making fun of the people who ‘laugh at god.’ also the line “no one laughs at god on the day they realize/that the last sight they'll ever see is a pair of hateful eyes” which i think would’ve resonated very well with janus before svsr. not gonna say much else bc i can barely listen to the song as it is, much less analyze it.

human of the year: maybe also janus, but then again maybe moreso roman or patton. i say janus mostly because it has a very creepy vibe to go with the fictional award of “human of the year.” but roman or patton fits more with the receiver of the award. at least roman would probably give up anything to be deemed that great person, that hero.

two birds: anxceit babyyy. or roceit. it’s really weird because i can’t really tell whether virgil is leaving the wire or janus. the obvious option would be virgil, leaving for the light sides, but the subtler option is the callback. then again, i’m not sure if the one on the wire would change to roman or the general light sides if it was the callback. i also don’t think that virgil wanted janus to come with him, which doesn’t make sense for how the one bird would ask and the other would lie (hehe deceit) and say he was going to come. then again, that could just be a different interpretation of how virgil left the dark sides. in my opinion, though, roceit is much more fun. “i’ll believe it all:” roman. “i won’t let go of your hand:” janus. roman is lying to janus, he’s saying he wants to go to the wedding. janus is trying to just get him to go to the callback. roman’s tempted by it, tempted by how janus is treating him. the line “one more or one less, nobody’s worried” could maybe be janus trying to convince them that it doesn’t matter if they go to the wedding, that lee and mary lee won’t really care. anxceit’s also fun, though.

dance anthem of the 80′s: doesn’t really have a side that it fits in canon, but i think it’d be interesting to put it with patton in an AU. the character is peppy and innocent at first, but it descends into a more depressing tone. i also think the heteronormativity does it a favor in its context. again, it has nothing to do with canon, just thought it’d be cool in an AU.

genius next door: logan, or remus. this song hurts me every time i hear it, since i’ve started associating it with logan. it’s pretty much about this kid, the genius, who’s presumably depressed and goes into the lake each night, holding his breath until he comes back up. this ends up being a bad idea, because at one point he holds his breath too long, and dies in the lake. mostly as i’ve thought about it, i’ve considered logan, but honestly it kind of fits remus better, like how he “didn't care as long as he was able/to strip his clothes off by the dumpsters/at night while everyone was sleeping/and wade midway into that porridge/just him and his secret he was keeping” (the porridge is the lake.) in addition to that, they describe his death as “and the genius next door was sleeping/dreaming that the antidote was orgasm.” sorry for y’all having to catch me referencing other songs, but in the mountain goat’s “amy aka spent gladiator 1″ he says “do every stupid thing that makes you feel alive/do every stupid thing to try to drive the dark away” (which i think is also a very remus song) so he’s describing how it feels good to risk your life. the adrenaline will make you “feel alive,” which is probably why the kid in the song did it (which i saw in the comments someone compared to being the ‘orgasm.’) and while this is not a good idea, considering what happened to the genius next door, i do think it’s a very remus thing to do if he was depressed.

wallet: patton. it’s a very cute song, and it’s pretty much just about how the singer found a wallet, looked at it a little, then returned it to the owner. the singer says “i have no wallet/i keep my cards together with a blue rubber band” and i think that would be something patton does. “you'll never know me/i'll never know you/but you'll be so happy/when they call you up” is probably how patton would feel returning it. finally, something not depressing.

one more time with feeling: i don’t need to choose a side for this one, it’s already logan. i do want to share my thoughts on it, though, ‘cause it seems i disagree with a couple people (plus i didn’t analyze his playlist so i haven’t said anything about it before.) “everyone takes turns/now it's yours to play the part.” he’s supposed to help thomas, as he did in dwit and tried to in svsr. “and the misery inside their eyes is synchronized and reflecting it to yours.” they didn’t listen, though, in svsr and it took half an hour in dwit. for the chorus, “hold on/one more time with feeling/try it again, breathing's just a rhythm/say it in your mind until you know that the words are right/this is why we fight,” i think maybe he’s trying to be interesting to them. to just get through it, and practice and practice until he has the words that they’ll like. that’s just my little hc, though. “you thought by now you'd be/so much better than you are/you thought by now they'd see/that you had come so far.” these lines hit the hardest for me. remember how logan was in the beginning? especially in moving on, he seemed to have no compassion for thomas’s feelings. but hasn’t he gotten better? i think he’s trying to be better to them, to be kinder about emotional problems. and he has come far, but not as far as he would’ve liked, especially considering that he hasn’t seen them appreciate it. he was hoping that they’d notice, that they’d be glad he was doing better. that they’d be proud of him. but they aren’t. they just disregard him even more, unable to forget about who he was, unable to consider how far he’d come (maybe projecting a little.) i also think that the “this is why we fight” could be him talking about how because they don’t listen, he’s exhausted from getting angry at them each episode, and they get annoyed but their ignorance is why they fight.

as a whole, i think he’s just trying again, and again, and again, and i thought, maybe he’s trying with feeling. like, he’s trying to feel for them, trying to care. maybe it has to do with what he did in svsr, where he hinted at his feelings, how he felt like they didn’t care. and they didn’t say a thing. they only could’ve reinforced the idea that even though they’ve tried to tell him that he feels, they don’t care. i went on a whole rant about patton, roman, and thomas in svsr and i could again, but that’s not related to the song.

man of a thousand faces: roman, loosely. at first i was like “man of a thousand faces?!?! janus?!?” but it actually barely fits him at all. it might actually be about drugs, but we’ll ignore that. “his words are quiet like stains are/on a tablecloth washed in a river/stains that are trying to cover for each other/or at least blend in with the pattern” could represent his mistakes, his ideas, maybe stuff that didn’t turn out. and maybe the better ideas will cover up his mistakes. “good is better than perfect.” it could be that his perfectionism is driving him insane, and he needs to start reminding himself that it’s better if he starts reaching for at least just good. “and i’m crying for things that/i tell others to do without crying” is such a roman line i...

anyway that’s the album. if you read through this i’m... impressed.

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