#i hit a point where it handled a real world thing so fucking stupidly that i tapped out because i do not care to see

[feline-evil]

Being into some game series's is a constant cycle of going 'ok, ok maybe this'll be the one we'll be so back on, maybe THIS time it'll be good' and getting hit in the face w how joever it is hard enough to make your ears ring every time

#jay talkin #sorry 4 bein a hater any tiny shreds of hope i had for silent hill as a franchise just got squeezed outta me im done #not a value judgement nor a taste judgement its just a ME personally thing imma enjoy the old ones n leave well enough alone #i got like....what. ten fifteen mins into watching the new free one they put out and hough boy #dont read on if u dont want 2 see opinions #ok so. beats u over the head w everything is disastrously unsubtle dialogue feels clunky #beats and aesthetics feel ripped wholesale from the pt-like boom years ago so it feels unoriginal #i hit a point where it handled a real world thing so fucking stupidly that i tapped out because i do not care to see #how awfully thats going to play out. it gives u a warning up front that there will be triggering content in it #heed that warning bc it is not subtle about it it is completely in your face with no artistry at all #i am not a believer you CANT approach triggering subjects i just think the way theyre doing it is fucking dumb #its dumb and shallow and feels completely uninformed by any real experience and its trite #7 years ago it wld have been passable. today its overdone and undercooked #and hey maybe it gets good further in. i have zero interest in waiting for that godbless and godspeed #if you enjoy it u enjoy it u dont gotta bother me w it. i think its bad and im allowed to <3

[scribefindegil]

god. i’m still real fucked up over Manga Mogami Arc, and not for any of the reasons people warned me about. like, Mogami’s world ramps up the violence above what they could show in the anime (which, thanks Bones, I personally could not have handled watching that so I’m glad they toned it down), but that makes sense for him. he’s a powerful evil spirit who’s created a hell dimension. it’s brutal, but it isn’t unexpected.

what got me was what happened before that.

[Image ID: A partial page from the Mob Psycho 100 manga. Panel 1: A psychic picks up an ornate staff and says, “So she beats us to death, one by one ... or we beat on her, all together.” Panel 2: Another psychic, sweating, asks, “You really think the client would agree to that ...?” Panel 3: A closeup of the first psychic, veins bulging and eyes narrowed. He says, “The client is currently bleeding out on the floor. Open your eyes. This is no time for questions about morals and ethics ...” Panel 4: Dialogue continues, “It’s looking more like ... kill or be killed.” The crowd of psychics looks distraught. Panel 5: Reigen, with a horrified expression, thinks “Things were already bad, but ...” End ID]

So for those of you who haven’t read the manga, there’s a point after Mogami has trapped everyone in the basement and revealed the extent of his power where some of the other psychics decide that their best strategy for getting out of this situation is murder! Cool! (Does someone point out that Mogami’s spirit has already jumped into a different vessel and there’s nothing to stop him from doing it again? Yes! Does this give them pause? No!)

I think this is really interesting, because in the anime the real threat in this arc always comes from Mogami himself, even if it’s enacted through his spirits in the mindscape. But in the manga there’s this part that still takes place in the real world, with regular people who aren’t being controlled or possessed, and because their lives are in danger they’re willing to try to kill a middle-school girl to save themselves. Mogami must have been so chuffed. Here are these people all ready to prove his point about the darkness at the heart of human nature and how no one really cares about anyone but themselves, and he hardly even put them up to it! It reminds me of the part with the astral projection stalker, where it’s one thing to see this kind of behavior from an evil spirit, but it hits harder when it comes from living humans.

Also really important to note that they got this idea because of Reigen. Obviously he was not encouraging murder! But it was his successful knee-strike exorcism of Jodo that gave the other psychics the idea that they could defeat Mogami by doing physical violence to his host.

[Image ID: Jodo lies unconscious on the floor. Someone says, “You saw what just happened. Jodo was possessed ... but that dude’s kick took him down! We can try the same thing against her.” End ID]

And Reigen can tell that he won’t be able to talk them out of it! He freezes up! It’s Shinra who, very bravely and very stupidly, runs forward and tries to stop them and gets his face bashed in for it (i’m not screencapping this because it makes me too upset).

It just. It’s already so much in the anime when Mob refuses to accept Mogami’s worldview after six months in his world. It’s even more when the last things he experienced in the real world were so bleak. But he’s so, so brave and so, so stubborn, and he’s willing to believe that all those people deserve the chance to change too.

#*lies down on the floor* #i love mob! #i hate mogami! #i'm genuinely so upset about shinra he was BRAVE he was GOOD he was TRYING! #mp100 #mp100 manga spoilers #also #ALSO!! #after Mob's first attempt at an exorcism doesn't work Reigen tries to convince him to leave the rest of them behind to get help #bc he clearly thinks they're all going to die but he wants Mob to be safe and i #ugghghghghghghghhhghhhhhhhhhhhh!!!! #like you can watch Reigen completely lose his composure throughout these scenes #and then once the exorcism fails he puts his mask back on #and it's obvious that he doesn't think there's any way he or the rest of the adults are getting out of this #but if he can just convince Mob to leave it'll be okay #(i'm fine i'm normal)

[queen0fm0nsterz]

-storms in here- If the Lady and the Thin Man were to have a battle of wits, who do you think would win and how?

ANON I LOVE YOU /p I LOVE THINKING OF THEM... these creatures

Oh, definitely the Lady. When it comes to actual intelligence, there is no real way of telling, but outsmarting the Thin Man wouldn't be hard in the slightest for someone like her.

This is simply due to a difference in understanding of the world. Thin Man has been locked up for his entire life and while it doesn't necessarily translate to him being stupid, the fact that he has nearly no way of accessing the outside world before he's free doesn't help. Plus, we have to consider the fact that he is quite unstable. He doesn't really have the emotional maturity and the wits to put together a well constructed plan. Tbh I don't think this man even thinks before he acts... it's definitely one habit he never grew out of.

Honestly, this is why I believe the Pale City is actively decaying to begin with. In the state he is in, he's not cut out to be a leader; he'd never be able to handle a place like the Maw, for example.

Furthermore, his ability to use his own stupidly powerful abilities is... lacking, to say the least. Mono is more powerful than him and while that can be blamed on the fact Thin Man is literally on the verge of expiring, I think his misuse of his powers should not be overlooked. I am inclined to believe he never got the chance to explore them, which is why he uses them sporadically and in very... unique ways. Like seriously why is he teleporting/walking super fucking fast to traverse incredibly small distances this man could TEAR THE ENTIRE CITY APART IF HE WANTED TO HE COULD HAVE TORN MONO TO SHREDS IN 3 SECONDS

The Lady on the other hand has a very good grasp on the world and its people. Ambitious woman that she is, she knows many things, see as she has studied for so long. The marketing of the Maw is most likely thanks to her and, considering how successful it is in the outside world, she must have done a damn good job. Plus, it was mentioned that she has learned many terrible things during her time there; with all the years she spent managing it she has seen it all at this point. Though she too is as unstable as her counterpart, she does a much better job at hiding it - or keeping it under control. She has learned to get a grip on herself. Though there are times where the mask slips, she is mostly really good at keeping on the impression that she is calm and collected.

She has the advantage of having way more life experience. The Lady's powers are definitely nothing when compared to the reality bending Thin Man has going on, but they are not to be ignored nor dismissed. She can lurk in the shadows and can potentially be a dangerously quiet enemy.

If this was a battle based on powers alone, there is no doubt that the Lady would lose. But since it's a battle of wits, I believe the Lady would win by manipulating the Thin Man into not fighting at all.

Her gaslight gatekeep girlboss era finally becomes real my boy will not even know what hit him

This is how I think it would go:

"Did you come to my door in search of conflict?"

"(Incomprehensible static)"

"I don't think you want to fight. You wouldn't be able to. This conflict you made up, it's all in your head."

"(INCREASINGLY AGITATED STATIC)"

#little nightmares #little nightmares 2 #the thin man #ln the thin man #ln thin man #the lady #ln the lady #little nightmares the lady #{HEADCANON TIME BABEYYYYYYYYY #i am so ill over them #THE ENTIRE LAST PAST IS /J BTW HELP #writing a fighting scene between them would be pretty cool though. i will Think about it #NEBJRFBKENFKFNF #ok now im tired #i will sleep #snor mimimi #bye} #little nightmares headcanons #ln headcanons

[bucksfucks]

𝙁𝘽𝙍𝙊 ; 𝗯𝘂𝗰𝗸𝘆 𝗯𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗲𝘀 [𝟳/𝟭𝟭]

summary┃bucky’s past comes back with a vengeance and you’re determined to get the answers you’ve been searching for. 

pairing┃roommate!bucky x f!reader

word count┃2,682 words

warnings┃bucky’s past is revealed, character mentions; [sam wilson, natasha romanoff, tony stark], pet name [kid (platonic), sweets & baby], threats made against bucky + reader, trust-issues, mention of hit-men, brief mention of death, phone sex, praise kink, masturbation, mention of toys, slight angst, soft ending — 18+ ONLY • MINORS DNI

notes┃there is A LOT of plot here but also some filthy goodness and a sprinkle of angst <<3

SERIES MASTERLIST

     Ex-wife.

    Bucky’s words echoed in your ears as he didn’t dare to look at you.

    His ex-wife was threatening you.

    And he didn’t think to mention her? Ever?

    “Can I please explain?” Bucky croaked finally, voice sounding broken as you shrugged your shoulders — in a state of shock.

    That was all he needed before he recounted his previous relationship with the woman who was now sending you threatening emails.

    Married young, too young and too fast and it ended up blowing up in their faces.

    Well, clearly she hadn’t gotten over it.

    “I thought I lost her,” he explains. “I thought that moving halfway across the country would be enough.”

    You finally looked up to meet his eyes, glossy, sad and terrified as you sniffled.

    “There’s a reason only Tasha calls me James.”

    It broke your heart hearing that, the way his head hung low and he nearly winced at the sound of his own goddamn name.

    But you didn’t know who to trust anymore.

    Bucky always glossed over how he, Sam, and Nat knew each other — telling you that they were old friends that go back.

    How far back?

    You needed to know, but clearly you weren’t about to get answers from him.

    “Buck,” he stopped you, taking a step closer as his eyes begged and pleaded you not to finish your sentence. 

    “I can’t,” he shook his head, “I need some time.” 

    You couldn’t bring yourself to say those words that would shatter both of your world’s. But you had no idea what the hell you had gotten yourself into and you needed answers. 

    And you knew exactly who to go to for them. 

    “I understand,” Bucky sighed. “I’ll stay at Sam’s for some time, okay?” 

    You could only nod your head, watching him walk past you and into his door. 

    Then he shut it, something he never did because his door was always open for you. No matter what you needed and no matter what time of day it was. 

    It felt...wrong. 

    But you couldn’t dwell on it, grabbing your keys, phone, and whatever other important things you could think of being you nearly bolted out of the front     door. 

    You plugged your headphones into your phone, hitting shuffle and descending down into the subway. 

    The entire ride made you anxious, slowly approaching your stop and you were way out of place in this crowd. 

    People rushed by you in expensive suits and what you could only guess were the infamous red-soled shoes that were worth close to your monthly rent, if not more. 

    You cringed, thinking of the man you were about to see in his stupidly tall office building that you had to crane your neck at an uncomfortable angle just     to get a look at. 

    The elevator could not have taken longer, tapping your foot impatiently as you rode up to what felt like the heavens before the doors opened to revel smooth wooden doors that reach from the ceiling to the floor. 

    You were so close, before you were stopped. 

    “Ma’am, I’m sorry, you can’t be here right now.” A man’s voice stopped you, dressed in a security guard uniform and oh, this was so him. 

    “I know him,” you said, intent on seeing the man probably sitting behind those large doors. 

    “I’m sorry, I can’t let you do th—”

    “It’s okay, Marv. I know her,” his voice came not from behind the doors, but from the long hallway to your left. 

    The security guard, Marv, nodded his head as he looked at you once more before retreating back to where he was leaning against one of the walls. 

    “This is a surprise,” you rolled your eyes, “Tony, please. I don’t wanna hear it.” 

    He walked over to you, embracing you in a hug, “oh c’mon, I’ve missed you, Kid.” 

    You shook your head, “I haven’t been a kid in years,” you tried to remind him, but it was Tony, he wasn’t going to listen as he just laughed it off and welcomed you into his office. 

    It was much different from last time, all new furniture and appliances, but nothing lasted more than a year with Tony. 

    Tony was an old friend, sort of.

    He was an old friend of your father’s, something like an uncle, but also like your older brother. 

    So just one giant pain in your ass.

    “So,” Tony sighed. “What trouble did you get into this time, Kid?”

    You told Tony everything. 

    From being roommates with Bucky to the way he asked you to be his fake girlfriend to Sam’s wedding and all the way to the situation you were in now. Confronted by his ex-wife without any idea of what she was going to do. 

    Tony had that look on his face. The one where he was going to tell you that you were crazy. 

    “I don’t know how you manage to get yourself into these situations,” he chuckled, hand clamping over your shoulder as he walked around his desk and typed something into his computer. 

    “Last name is,” he looked at you. “Barnes.” 

    He nodded his head, typing away at his computer again before he stopped. 

    There was a brief moment of silence, Tony hiding behind the computer screen before he stood up and walked back around the desk, “I’m gonna need some time.”

    You understood, shaking your head. You were asking Tony to hack into any known database and collect as much data on Bucky as you could. It was wrong, but you just needed to know who you were dealing with. 

    “Thank you, Tony. I-I really appreciate it.” You weren’t good when it came to...well, the heartfelt side of things but luckily neither was Tony. 

    “Don’t get sappy on me now, Kid. You know it makes me sick,” he joked playfully, smile on his lips as you stood up to give him a half hug. 

    “I’ll call you as soon as I know anything.” He promised before you walked out of the too-tall building with far more questions than you came with. 

    It was a waiting game that you didn’t want to play, but you didn’t have a choice. 

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

    It seemed like your relationship with Bucky was doomed from the start. 

    Friends to lovers rarely, if ever, works out in anyone’s favour. 

    The fake dating trope you could handle, pushing your feelings aside to help Bucky win a bet didn’t seem like the worst thing in the world. You had a great time, great fucking sex, and a trip out of it. 

    Then Steve wouldn’t leave the picture. Going as far as coming to the wedding as Natasha’s boyfriend to spite you not realizing that you and Bucky had gotten married. 

    Married. 

    You and Bucky were married. Bonded in a whole other way and now, his ex-wife was out for you and him. 

    Maybe this was a sign from the universe, a big red fucking flag telling you that it wasn’t worth it and yet...you couldn’t let go. 

    The apartment felt empty without Bucky, his bedroom left the way it was in the morning with your favourite sweater of his laid out on the covers and a little post-it note on top of it. 

    You never could really decipher Bucky’s handwriting. It was absolute chicken scratch as you picked it up and managed to make out in case you get cold scribbled onto it. 

    It was an easy decision to pull it over your head and drown yourself in the scent of Bucky’s cologne as you fiddled with the small gold band you now wore around your neck as a necklace. 

    You didn’t want anyone other than Bucky. There was no in the world who understood you better. Who knew how to make you laugh when you were having a bad day. 

    Everything led you right back to Bucky. 

    So when your phone rang from the other side of the couch, you were secretly hoping it was Bucky. 

    Instead, Tony’s name flashed and your heart sank into your stomach as you quickly hit answer and held the phone up to your ear. 

    “You’re not gonna like this, Kid.” Tony’s voice flowed through the speakers as you took a shaky breath in and braced yourself for what Tony was about to tell you. 

    “He did a damn good job at erasing his history, but you can’t erase all of it,” Tony chuckled as you rolled your eyes, “quit stalling.”

    He sighed, “the Howling Commandos was an organization tasked with,” he paused, “tasked with collecting intel and making sure that information never got released to the public.” 

    This time, it was your turn to fall silent. 

    “Like, spies?” You asked and Tony hummed, “sort of.” 

    “They had spies, agents, hit-men.” 

    No. You shook your head, no. 

    “James Buchanan Barnes was their highest ranking hit-man. Him, along with Sam Wilson and Natasha Romanova worked as a team. A spy, agent, hit-man trio.” 

    You had to shake yourself out of spiralling, what you needed was everything Tony could possible tell you. 

    “Anything on his ex-wife?” You then asked and heard shuffling on the other line, “not much. Mary Barnes, but I doubt that’s her real name, was part of a training initiative the Howling Commandos were testing.” 

    You bit your lip, at least you had a name, even if it wasn’t her real name. 

    “By that point it looks like James—” 

    “Bucky. His name is Bucky.” 

    Tony cleared his throat after a moment’s silence, “Bucky looks like he had disappeared. Blipped off of the face of the Earth. There’s nothing in his file after 2014.” 

    That makes sense. Bucky was perhaps the most old-fashioned man you knew, only upgrading from his flip-phone just a few years ago. He barely knew how to unlock it, though. 

    “Sam and Natasha went on to live normal lives, Kid. I’m sure that’s all Bucky wants.” Tony tries to assure you and you laugh, “you sound like my dad.” 

    He laughed on the other line, “oh gross.” 

    “Thanks for everything, Tony.” You said, “you know what number to call in case you’re in trouble.” 

    With that, you both hung up, tossing your phone away from you to digest everything you’d just been told. You knew you had to talk to Bucky, but you didn’t know when. 

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

    “So you’re tellin’ me,” Sam was confused. “That this is the same Mary that tried to get you killed?” 

    Bucky rolled his eyes, taking another swing of his beer as he rounded Sam’s kitchen island. 

    “That’s the one, you know, the undercover agent working for Strucker.” Bucky scowled at the name. 

    He was angry, beyond angry at the fact that his past was creeping up on him despite how far he had gone to erase it. 

    “But why now? Why come after you now?” Sam poses the question that even Bucky doesn’t have an answer to. So he just shrugs his shoulders and finishes off his beer. 

    “Unfinished business.” 

    They stand in silence for a little while longer, listening to the old ticking clock hanging on the wall before Sam takes a step towards Bucky. 

    “Whatever you need, you know that Tasha and I are here for you, right?” He whispers and Bucky feels the warmth blooming in his chest as he gives him a half-smile. 

    “Yeah,” he nods his head, “thanks, man.” 

    Sam knows that Bucky was never really good at the sappy shit, so he doesn’t force it. Instead, he offers him another beer, bottle necks clinking as Bucky’s thoughts race. 

    He was worried. 

    Not about himself, but about you. 

    And you were worried about Bucky, curling up in his bed as you sighed and tossed and turned. There was no way you’d be able to fall asleep alone tonight. And hugging his pillow just wasn’t enough. 

    So you grabbed your phone, hitting his name and waiting for the ringing to sound before he picked up — tired and groggy.

    “We need to talk.” You didn’t give him a chance to greet you. He sighed on the other line, but hummed in agreement, “tomorrow?”

    You hummed in response to his question, the sound of his voice soothing as you played with the sheets of his bed.

    “I miss you, Sweets.” Bucky whispered, your breathing hitching at how low and raspy his voice really was.

    “I miss you too, Bucky.” You admitted, shifting as you got comfortable on the pile of pillows against your head.

    There was a moment of silence before Bucky spoke again.

    “You know what ‘m really missin’ right now?” His words sent a shiver down your spine as you shakily inhaled, “what?”

    Bucky sighed, reminiscent of how he sighs when he runs his hands all over your body. 

    “I miss that sweet cunt of yours.” Bucky purrs, you know he’s smirking, possibly even dragging his tongue across his bottom lip as he closes his eyes to imagine you under him. 

    You’re at a loss for words, feeling your panties grow damp, core aching and you’re going to have to touch yourself soon. But that’s all part of Bucky’s plan, you think. 

    “Here I am, all alone, with my hand wrapped ‘round my cock,” he whispers, but you can hear him stroking himself. 

    “And all I can think ‘bout is that way your tight little pussy grips me and milks my fuckin’ dick, baby.” Bucky was always so good with his words, knowing exactly what to say to make you melt. 

    And it was working, because you were a squirming mess in his bed. 

    “Well,” you could tell he was smirking by his tone, “what’re ya waitin’ for, Sweets. Go on, touch yourself. I wanna hear you work your clit.” 

    Your hand flew under your panties, being given the permission only made it sweeter as your fingers came in contact with your soaking folds. The sensitive bundle of nerves needed desperate attention as you slowly circled it. 

    “Good girl, that’s my girl.” Bucky praised, continuing to work himself. 

    “God,” he hissed, “can’t wait to have you all to myself again. Bury myself deep, maybe even have you sit on my cock as you beg me to do somethin’.” 

    You worked yourself a little faster, applying some more pressure as you let out a whine at his words. 

    “Add two fingers, Sweets. I know how much you love bein’ stretched,” Bucky chuckled deeply, “been thinkin’ of gettin’ you a mould of my fuckin’ dick for when ‘m not home.” 

    Oh my God. Oh my God that shouldn’t be so fucking hot so why does it make your walls flutter and breathing uneven as you have to stop yourself from actually fucking cumming. 

    He chuckles again, “yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” 

    You can’t verbally respond, too focused on the tight coil in your abdomen that’s ready to snap. 

    “I know you’re close, can hear it in how fuckin’ desperate you sound,” he pants, “so why don’t you make a mess all over my clean sheets.” 

    You gasp, how did he know, but you don’t get to dwell on it for much longer than a moment because your orgasm rips through you and leaves you panting Bucky’s name. 

    Both of your breaths are uneven and ragged through the phone’s speakers, bed springs creaking on Bucky’s side as he hums. 

    “If only you could see the miss I made for you, Sweets,” you shuddered at his words, closing your eyes to relish in the moment. 

    “Now get some sleep, okay? I’ll see you tomorrow.” His tone has changed, entirely sweet and caring as you grab the phone to bring him closer to you. 

    “Okay,” you reply, another lick of silence before you hear Bucky going to end the call but you stop him. 

    “I love you, Bucky.” You quickly blubber out and it feels good to finally say those words because there’s no more denying how you really feel about him. 

    “I love you too, Sweets.” 

    It’s a bittersweet ending to the phone call, thoughts and emotions running wild as you’re forced to remind yourself that Bucky has a lot of explaining to do. 

#bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes headcanon #bucky barnes headcanons #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes oneshots #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes au #roommate!bucky #bucky barnes series

[narutogwriting]

18

⋇✦ Pairing: Shikamaru x Reader

⋇✦ Genre: smut; NSFW; oneshot

⋇✦ Synopsis: You just turned eighteen and are rebelling against your dad and his new wife. Good thing Shikamaru finds you before some douche can take advantage of you

⋇✦ CW: DARK CONTENT!! NSFW; statutory mention; mean shikamaru; dirty talk; anal mention; slight dacryphilia; cheating mention; anal mentions drugs?

⋇✦ Length: 2.3k+

⋇✦ Inspiration: 18 by Anarbor

“That’s it, baby. Just like that,” Shikamaru praised as he shoved your head further down on his length, hissing in pleasure as you gagged around him. He had your hair bunched up in a makeshift ponytail in one of his hands, using it to work you back and forth on his cock. In his other hand, he held a cigarette between his fingers. Holding you down, your nose nuzzled in the trimmed pubes at his base, Shikamaru took a long drag. He yanked you off of him, causing you to cough and splutter as your lungs sucked in greedy gulps of air.

It didn’t last long before Shikamaru was bending over, blowing his smoke into your face. You inhaled in straight, coughing as it burned your throat.

Shikamaru only snickered as you blinked up at him through bleary eyes. “Don’t cry, baby. I help you out, you help me out, remember?”

You did remember. Part of you was starting to wonder if it was all worth it, but you shook the thought away as you licked at the head of his shaft again. A sharp tug of your hair made you yelp. “What are you, a kitten?” Shikamaru jeered. “Put it back in your mouth.”

How had you gotten here? Well, alcohol had been involved, of course.

“Wanna know a secret?” You giggled from behind your glass as you swirled your finger in your drink. It was only your second one, but it was already going straight to your head, making the room spin. You weren’t much of a drinker, afterall. It wasn’t like you could hang with the big boys, though you were doing your best to.

Shikamaru rolled his eyes as he lifted his own glass to his lips, knocking it back and wiping at his mouth with his sleeve. “Sure,” he agreed, deciding to play along.

The two of you had met at this same bar a week prior and ended the night with a drunken quicky in the bathroom before closing.

If he was being honest, Shikamaru didn’t even remember your name. He hadn’t expected--or cared, really--to see you again, but when he walked in that night, there you were, already drunk. So if he had to put up with your blabbering for an hour or so before he could bury himself in your cunt again, well, that was a price he was willing to pay.

Placing down your drink, you leaned over to Shikamaru unsteadily, placing your hand on his thigh for balance as you grinned stupidly up at him. “Okay, but you can’t tell anyone.” You slurred.

“That’s what makes it a secret, isn’t it?” Shikamaru couldn’t help but roll his eyes; god you were dumb. If he hadn’t already seen how pretty your pussy was, he wouldn’t even bother talking to you right now.

You nodded, gripping his leg. “Okay… My secret is that I’m not even supposed to be in this bar!” You began to laugh like it was the funniest thing in the world, but Shikamaru stared at you a bit dumbfounded as he felt a sense of nausea turning in his stomach.

“I hope you don’t mean what I think you mean…” He muttered, straightening in his seat. In your drunked state, you were oblivious to his clear disdain.

So you just pushed yourself up, bringing your drink to your lips and taking a sip. “I’m only seventeen… I borrowed my friend’s ID to get in here.

And that was what Shikamaru had been hoping you weren’t going to say. You were a minor. At seventeen, that put Shikamaru seven years older than you. You were still in high school; meanwhile, he’d graduated from college three years ago already. All of this to say that your inebriated hookup in the bathroom was statutory.

Shikamaru felt sick with anxiety wondering who you told, if anyone. Would he get caught? Did it matter than he didn’t know you were a minor when he'd fucked you?

And yet, even in the midst of his worry, the words went straight to his cock. You were clearly in some kind of rebellion, probably a daddy’s girl who was trying to revolt against the good girl image you’d grown up with.

Shikamaru wanted to help with that; he would absolutely ruin you given the chance. Take this good girl and turn you into his little toy.

But Shikamaru wasn’t an idiot; he wasn’t going to risk jail time or the words “sex offender” on his record just for an easy, gullible lay.

So he brushed your hand off of him, pushing himself to his feet. Pulling out his phone, he called you an uber. Shikamaru wouldn’t call himself a good guy, couldn’t care less what you did on your own time, but he figured that maybe if he got you home safe, you wouldn’t retaliate against his rejection and turn him in.

“Come find me when you’re eighteen,” he muttered before shutting the car door behind you.

Lucky for him, that was only a week later.

You’d walked right into that bar clad in little red heels and a tight black dress that had him drooling. All eyes were on you, but yours were only on Shikamaru as you sauntered up to him and his friends.

He was leaning back in the booth, eyeing you expectantly as his friends drooled by his side. You reached into your purse, pulling out your ID and tossing it to him. It slid across the table in front of you, and he picked it up, eyeing it curiously before a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

“Well, well, well. Look who’s eighteen.”

You dangled your keys in front of him, the BMW logo on the remote visible to the whole ground. “My place or yours?”

That was how you ended up in Shikamaru’s bed, face down and ass up as he pounded into you from behind. He pushed your head into the mattress as he battered your cunt with his large cock. He hadn’t even taken time to prepare you, not that it mattered much. As soon as he rubbed his tip against your pussy lips, you were practically dripping.

“Couldn’t even wait for this cock, could you?” He taunted as he placed a hard smack on your ass before rubbing his hand over it delicately. “What is it, baby? Those high school boys weren’t satisfying you? You needed a real man?” As if to punctuate his point, Shikamaru pressed his thumb against your tight, unused hole, making you squeal as he pushed it inside. Yeah, he’d definitely be using this hole at some point, too.

You were blabbering incoherently, the noises muffled into the bed as his cock dragged deliciously against your walls. You’d never been fucked like this before.

Shikamaru was rutting into you without rhyme or rhythm, chasing his own high, but you were already coming around him, making him laugh. “And I wasn’t even trying to get you off,” he ridiculed. “You’re just that desperate for me, huh?”

After hammering into you for god knows how long, he pulled you back up, using your hair as leverage to ride you even harder. “Shikamaru!” You cried out, clenching around him again. You’d lost count how many times you’d come.

“That’s it, baby… Say my name…” he grunted, smacking your ass again. “Fuck, I’m gonna fill you up. You want that, baby? Want me to come in this stupid little cunt?”

You really were stupid because you were nodding, squeezing around him harder, practically begging for his load. You hadn’t been sexually active long enough to realize you should be on birth control, hadn't even bothered to make sure he was wearing a condom.

A string of curses fell from Shikamaru’s mouth as his grip on your hair tightened, and his hips began to stutter into yours, and then he was cumming, shooting his load deep into you as he bottomed out. His fingers went to your hips, gripping so hard you were sure they’d bruise. He held your hips tightly to his as he rolled back into you, pushing his cum deeper inside.

“Fuck,” he breathed before pulling out, collapsing down onto the bed. With shaky legs, you flipped yourself over to lay next to him, trying to cuddle into his side, but Shikamaru just shrugged you off.

“So, tell me…” He cocked an eyebrow as he looked over your naked form. You tried to pull the blanket up over yourself, feeling suddenly vulnerable under his gaze, but he yanked it off. “Don’t. I want to see you.”

Reaching into his night stand, he pulled out a blunt and his lighter. Placing the smoke between his lips, he lit it and took a deep drag. “I know that’s not your car you pulled up in. Who’s is it?”

He blew out the smoke, and you wrinkled your nose at the smell. He smirked. “Never smoked before?” You shook your head and then wished you hadn’t as he shoved the blunt between your own lips. “Suck,” he commanded.

You did as you were told, your eyes watering as you held the smoke in your mouth before releasing it, making Shikamaru laugh at your patheticness. “No. Again. All the way into your lungs.”

Again, you did what he said. Your lungs immediately began to burn as you inhaled the smoke, making you cough and hack violently. It seemed like every time you did, it only made you have to cough more.

You were light headed as you watched Shikamaru shake his head as he took another hit. “I asked you a question.”

“It’s my dad’s,” you managed between coughs.

He’d figured as much. You looked like you came from daddy’s money.

Shikamaru was able to coax your situation from you with fake niceties, how your parents had divorced because of your dad’s affair. He’d married the lady not a month after the divorce was finalized. She wasn’t even thirty yet.

So that was where your rebellion had come from. Probably the first hard thing you’d ever experienced in your life, and you couldn’t handle it. You were so pitiful, so clearly lost.

Well, lucky for you a guy like Shikamaru found you. Who knows what kind of creeps were out there just waiting to take advantage of a sweet, vulnerable girl like you?

Shikamaru was your boyfriend now. You couldn’t have been more thrilled. With his smoking, his long hair, his tattoos, he was your father’s worst nightmare. And there was nothing your dad could do to stop you. He’d already hurt you so much, broken all your trust. He was desperate to get back on your goodside.

So when you showed up to dinner one night with Shikamaru in tow, cigarette still tucked between his teeth, your dad nearly had a fit. It was clear by the look on his face; you’d never been so delighted before. But he sucked up it, sticking out a hand for Shikamaru to shake.

Your boyfriend only stared at it.

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t smoke in my house.” Your father said.

“Sure, no prob.” Shikamaru dropped the cigarette on your front porch, crushing it under his heel before pushing past your dad into the home. You just smiled up at him sweetly before following behind.

“Nice place you got here,” Shikamaru said, cocking an eyebrow.

Dinner was awkward at best and everything you’d wanted. Shikamaru didn’t mind either. He was more than happy to play along with your antics for a fancy meal. You were so focused on how uncomfortable your dad was with every question Shikamaru answered that you didn’t notice the way your boyfriend was eyeing your new stepmom.

Later, when he had you on your knees in the bathroom as you father and his wife sat in the living room, it was her he was thinking of as he shoved his cock down your throat over and over again.

“Cmon, take it baby. You know you want it,” Shikamaru moaned, head thrown back in pleasure. “You owe me, don’t you? Using me to make your daddy mad. Such a bad girl, huh? Well, I held up my end of the bargain, sweetheart. Now you’re gonna hold up yours. Gonna let me use you to dump my cum in whenever I want, aren’t you?

He took the gurgled moan against his cock as confirmation.

It was a few more minutes of using your mouth before he was cumming long and hard to the thought of bending your stepmom over the bathroom counter. His load spilt down your throat before he pulled out slowly, making sure to fill your mouth before pulling you off him completely and finishing over your face.

He groaned at the sight of your tears mixed with his cum, making your makeup run and smear. The sight was almost enough to get him hard again.

“Better clean up, darling.” He jeered as he rubbed his cock over your messy face. For good measure, he smacked it against your cheeks a couple times.

Nodding and sniffling, you took him in your mouth again, cleaning the cum off of him so he could tuck himself away. “Don’t be too long,” he told you as he left you alone in the bathroom, a mess and covered in his cum.

He wasn’t too worried. He knew that you wouldn’t be dumping him any time soon. Then you would have to go running back to daddy, and he knew you didn’t want that. So you’d put up with just about anything he did.

Including when, a week later, you would walk in on him in his apartment, balls deep in your stepmom’s ass.

Through tears, you would just nod in agreement as he insisted it wasn’t cheating if it was in the ass.

He was nice. He even let his friends fuck you in the ass whenever they wanted, and he didn't get mad at it, so how could you?

Shikamaru loved eighteen year olds. They had so much to learn.

And he was willing to teach.

#god i can't believe i wrote this #i feel like a degenerate #naruto #naruto x reader #naruto x oc #naruto drabble #naruto drabbles #naruto headcanon #naruto headcanons #naruto hc #naruto imagine #naruto imagines #naruto ff #naruto fanfiction #naruto oneshot #naruto one shot #shikamaru #shikamaru x oc #shikamaru x reader #shikamaru headcanon #shikamaru headcanons #shikamaru hc #shikamaru drabble #shikamaru drabbles #shikamaru imagine #shikmaru imagines #shikamaru oneshot #shikamaru one shot #shikamaru ff #shikamaru fanfiction

[hotdamnhunnam]

Show Them I’m Yours

A/N: Everyone knows there ain’t no party like a SAMCRO party. Imagine you’re Jax Teller’s girl and you want everyone to know, so he savagely takes you at one of those parties and puts on a hell of a show. (@itsme-autumn suggested that I write this and I was like um hell fucking yes)

Pairing: Jax Teller x F!Reader Warnings: smut, swearing, dirty talk, sex with an audience (Jax owning your ass and showing off that fact in front of all the Sons – they all get to watch but ONLY JAX can touch), featuring gifs of pretty much everyone

Word Count: ~2.9k

“Excuse me, sir?” you snap, crossing your arms over your chest. Appalled at the audacity of what this stupidly attractive bastard just dared to suggest. “No, I did not fuck up my car on purpose.”

The Prince of Charming smirks at that, hands on his hips, tongue flicking out between his suckable pink lips. “You sure about that, princess? Third time in a week that you’ve come by to get it serviced...”

“Oh, so you’ve been keeping track?” you sass back at him, flattered as fuck that he has, though your pride demands hiding that fact. Of course you’ve been screwing around with your engine all week just to have an excuse to hit up Teller-Morrow and check out his ass, to be honest. But fuck him for calling you out on it. “You’re not even the one who fixes shit. My visits here are not your business, and I’m not your fucking princess.”

His leather-clad shoulders lift up in a shrug, like he couldn’t care less. “Suit yourself. Name’s Jax,” he says with another long drag of his cigarette. “Jax Teller. Knew a stuck-up little bitch like you would be too proud to ask.”

Fucking shit. He knows you well. And hearing him call you a bitch just got you wetter than you would like to admit; you hope to hell that he can’t tell. “Maybe this stuck-up bitch just isn’t fucking interested.”

You flip him off and drive away—your car is really functioning just fine, needless to say—but you’re inevitably back by sex-o’-clock the very next day.

It’s been barely a month since you first moved to Charming, and you’re still not really used to feeling so damn new. It’s honestly alarming, just how shamelessly the men around town gawk at you. Don’t even seem to realize that it’s rude. You’re well aware you’re super cute, but till you moved here, you had never felt so... coveted. So viewed.

Nowhere more so than right here at Teller-Morrow. Home of the infamous biker club known as SAMCRO. The way the crew here always ogles you like heaven’s gift to men is quite a big boost to your ego.

“Know what I think, darlin’?” Jax taunts, sauntering toward your car as you pull in. “I think you know exactly what you’re doing. Know that every man in Charming wants a piece of that sweet ass.”

“Well, Mr. Teller...” you step out of the driver’s seat, standing to face him, close enough to feel his heat. “This ass ain’t up for grabs.”

Jax takes that as a challenge: as an open invitation, as he should. Slowly moves closer, feeding all your deepest hungers—God, he smells so fucking good—then wraps one hand around your back, the other sliding toward your ass... to show you just how wrong you were. “Oh, we’ll see about that.”

Jesus Christ—you want this man to fuck you up against your car, savage and hard, right fucking now... but he has something else in mind. Invites you to a party tonight, at the SAMCRO clubhouse. Who are you to deny?

He approaches his crew, as you drive away, fading from view. All the Sons stand in awe of their President—stunned that he just fucking conquered you.

“Dude, you gonna hit that?” Juice effuses, unable to hide his excitement. “Hot damn...”

Jax Fucking Teller stands tall like the king that he is and has always been, flashing his signature cocky grin. “Hell yeah I am.”

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

You have no clue what you are about to walk into. Of course you were shameless enough to choose your most provocative outfit: a skimpy excuse for a dress that covers very little of you, paired with your favorite fuck-me-now shoes. Jax had offered to pick you up from where you live, the Prince Charming he is—but as much as you’d kill for a ride on his Harley, you wanted to ride on your own dime, show up at your own time, keep up the illusion that you’re in control of your shit. You’re all decked out and ready to go nice and early, but hold off on heading out yet—figure you should play hard to get, keep the guy waiting a bit.

Your self-restraint lasts for a solid two minutes. 

There’s no hope of fighting how desperate you are for his dick. The thong that you’re wearing is made of some thin flimsy lace, so your pussy is leaking all over the place, and the seat of your car is all sticky and slick. That’s real fucking classy, Y/N, you think, quite ashamed of the nasty-ass slut you’re becoming.

By the time you arrive, every cell in your barely-dressed body feels so damn alive at the thought of Jax taking you home once the party is over and railing you all fucking night...

You don’t yet know it then, but waiting till the party is over is not what Jax Teller intends. No, you’re gonna get fucked good and hard long before it all ends.

Parking your car outside, you try and fail to steady your nerves with a long horny sigh as you shut off your engine. Preparing yourself for whatever is coming tonight. Finally stepping out, struggling to pull off a smooth sexy strut as you head toward the clubhouse. All right. Let the party begin.

From the second you walk in, you feel downright soaked in pure sin. All you can see are half-naked strangers slobbering all over each other, bodies pressed together, a blur of sweat-slick skin and old worn-out leather. The place stinks of sex, smoke and liquor, and you couldn’t possibly feel any sicker. Oh God, this is straight up disgusting—fuck this shit, you think, regretting having ever decided to come...

But before you can turn and head straight out the door, you lay eyes on the king, and remember exactly why you had accepted the invitation into his fucking kingdom. And all of a sudden your senses go numb and your slutty ass feels... right at home.

“There you are,” he greets you with a ravenous growl in his voice that resounds over all of the noise. “Now the party’s about to start. Glad that I got you to come, sweetheart.”

The gorgeous motherfucker’s lips curve up into a smirk, as he utters that sinful little word, and it has got to be the hottest fucking thing you’ve ever heard.

“Don’t get too cocky, Jax,” you tease him back, as his piercing blue eyes devour your entire figure, clearly pleased to see that you’re practically naked. “Still gonna have to work at that... I haven’t come just yet.”

He snickers, lustfully biting his lip as he reaches around you to grab at your ass through your dress, rendering you a dripping mess just at the touch of his fingers. “No, but already soaking wet, I bet.”

Oh God, yes... those are the only words that come into your head, a silent gasp for air, as his big strong frame slams you up against the nearest wall and holds you there, one hand upon your ass now as the other tangles roughly in your hair.

“Darlin’, you got any clue just how bad I’ve been wanting to fuck you?” he snarls, breathing heated against your skin, making your pussy clench and your toes curl. “You know, ever since this fine ass came to town... all those times you would come around... Christ, all I’ve wanted to do... is just pin you the fuck down... and show the whole fucking world who you belong to. Claim you as my dirty girl.”

Every word from his mouth has you spiraling down into some sort of sex-drunk submissive daze. Lost in a haze, everything else around you fades... until you realize, in a split second, that you and Jax are the focus of literally everybody’s gaze. Looking over his shoulder at the whole rest of the room, you are beyond surprised to find all fucking eyes on you and him. You feel the blood drain from your face. This seems like honestly too much to take—and yet you can’t deny, something about the spectacle of all of this has got you feeling... well, some kind of way...

“Yeah, they’re all watching, babe,” Jax devilishly taunts, reading your mind, lips on your neck and hands groping your tits and God that feels fucking divine. “Like the attention? Kinky little thing, I know it turns you on. What’d’ya say we fuck in front of them and give ‘em what they want?”

It’s not as if you have a choice, when Jax Teller is talking in that motherfucking mouthwatering voice. At this point you are nothing but his filthy fucking toy.

Now that your fate has been sealed as exactly that, he’s gonna give you the most epic sex you’ve ever fucking had.

Handling you like a damn rag doll, Jax swiftly shifts off of the wall, then throws you down over a pool table conveniently nearby, with your back pressed against the surface as he stands between your open thighs and effortlessly rips your dress to shreds. Strips off your thong next, tattered lace lost in a heap down on the floor between your legs. The look on his breathtakingly beautiful face with every move he makes is just pure fucking sex. 

And just like that, here in a room packed full of people most of whom you’ve never met, you are stark fucking naked, legs spread, soaking wet and loving every goddamn minute since apparently you’re seriously fucked up in the head.

Staring straight up into his blazing bright blue eyes, as he so proudly claims you as his prize, you’ve never felt so damn alive. But also dead.

“Mmm, look at that...” he hums, teasing your wet cunt with a cruel flick of his thumb. “Who fucking owns this pretty pussy, hmm? This nice tight ass you got?”

Oh, God—how is it even possible for everything he says and does to be so fucking hot...? Though you can barely speak, needy and weak, you know this bastard has demanded that you answer. So you tell him what is so painfully true. “You do, Jax. All you.”

He growls in pleasure, and you couldn’t possibly get any wetter. You’re officially the property of Jackson Fucking Teller. And he wants to hear you say it, which is just about the hottest fucking thing ever. “Tell ‘em, whore. Tell the whole room who fucking owns you. Wanna hear you tell ‘em who.”

And so you do. The words fall freely from your open mouth. You say it loud and proud. “Jax Fucking Teller owns my ass.”

The room responds with raucous shouts and cheers, resounding in your ears. You barely even notice, though, because now Jax has started stripping off his clothes—everything’s happening so fast—and as you lay eyes on his downright godlike body you are not sure just how much longer your slipping grip on sanity can last. He hasn’t even taken out his cock yet, but the moment that he does... you’re pretty sure you won’t even be conscious anymore.

So you form words, while you still can, beholding this god of a man. “Want you to show ‘em, Jax. Please. Show off how you own me. Fuck me like just what I am, your dirty little whore. Show them I’m yours.”

Jax doesn’t need to be asked twice. Next thing you know his massive cock is finally free, the fucking perfect piece of meat standing so tall and proud and hard between his strong muscular thighs, and he wastes no damn time at all giving exactly what you need. He takes a firm hold of your knees to spread your legs out even wider to receive everything that he has to give... and then he drives his cock inside you in one swift soul-crushing thrust and Jesus Christ, as every fiber of your being dies, you realize that until this moment you had never truly lived.

You barely register anything else that’s happening around you, but on some level you do. It’s even hotter knowing just how much the whole crew is enjoying this amazing fucking view.

“God, that’s so fucking hot...” Juice mutters from his front row spot, stupidly hoping no one else will notice as he scrapes your tattered thong off of the floor and stuffs it quickly in his pocket.

Tig snickers loudly from where he’s standing nearby. “You little pervert. We all saw that.”

Juice points his finger at the guy. “Pervert? Seriously? Talk about the pot calling the kettle black...”

In the meantime, none of that got past the king. Jax doesn’t miss a thing, and he’s possessive of his property, beyond belief. He promptly shoots a sharp glare at the thong thief. “Think you can try and take what’s mine? I’m gonna be needing that back.”

The look on Juice’s face, at that... you cannot help but laugh, and have a little pity. Something about this whole dynamic with the audience around you has restored a little sanity and dignity, and you’re able to string words together, even while you’re still getting completely fucked to pieces by Jax Teller. 

“Aw, let him have it, Jax. Poor guy’s just picking up scraps. You’re the one who still owns my whole ass.”

Chiming in with his distinctive accent, Chibs echoes your laugh with an approving clap. “Now would ya look at that. So generous! Jackie Boy, you got yourself there one hell of a lass.”

You smile at him with a playful wink as Jax keeps pushing deeper in, his cock seemingly harder with every thrust, bigger the farther it sinks. “Fuck yeah, he does. You jealous?”

“Aye, as if you have to ask...”

Jax doesn’t like it when you spend more than two seconds with your eyes on anybody else. Although he knows no one’s an actual threat, that fact still doesn’t change how possessive he gets. He takes his hands off of your legs now to powerfully grab your head, keeping your face in place just where he wants it, your gaze fixed on him alone as he keeps fucking you dead.

You can still hear the chorus of indistinct voices:

“Fuck her up!”

“Own that slut!”

“Pound that pussy, Pres!”

And so he does, making you moan and beg him for more, spouting out filth like a two-dollar whore, as his huge monster cock brings you closer and closer to climax. “Fuck yes—Jesus Christ, holy fucking shit—destroy me with that dick—God, you’re so big—fuck, Jax...!”

It feels like you’re about to burst. Happy, for one, seems to want that to happen. He’s more into the action than the words. “Just shut her up and fuck her harder. Till it hurts.”

You didn’t think that it would be humanly possible for Jax to fuck you any harder than he has been, in these past however many fucking minutes... but apparently it is. And the mind-blowing pain that it causes is pure fucking bliss. All of a sudden he picks up the pace, hips ramming into you so hard the table seems about to break, grunting and groaning out with every move he makes and leaning down to suck the screams out of your mouth, drilling deeper into every inch of your body and drowning you in his delicious taste as he devours your face.

Fuck if that’s not a one-way ticket straight to subspace.

Although your consciousness is all but gone, you try to stay afloat now as Jax pulls back from the kiss to ask one last question. “Who owns this fucking cunt?”

You couldn’t give less of a shit just how insane you sound right now. You’re honestly just proud that you can speak English somehow. “You own this cunt! You own my whole entire ass! You fucking own me, Jax! You... fucking... unghhhh...”

The whole entire room knows what’s about to happen. And as you come undone, some part of you can hear them jeering, cheering, every one of them so damn proud and supportive of their king... 

But for the most part you can only hear and see and feel one thing: Jax Fucking Teller all around you, deep inside you, splitting you right fucking open, filling you up with his white hot cum until it feels as if your whole goddamn existence served the sole purpose of leading up to this one perfect moment, to this epically earth-shattering explosion...

There is no better feeling in the world than being owned by him. You know it now, and so does everybody in this room. Damn did he show them. Just as you had asked. Jax Fucking Teller went off and did that. Showed off ow utterly and undeniably he owns your whole entire fucking ass.

You end up spending just a few more lazy minutes making out, tongues halfway down each other’s throats. “Mmmm, glad that I got you to come, Y/N,” he gloats, again, smirking in smug satisfaction now that the task is finally done.

But the night is still young. So you tell him. “Well, Teller—you should know that your dirty girl has three fuckable holes... and you’ve only fucked one.”

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

Thank you for reading!!! Writing this was TOO MUCH FUN. Hope you enjoyed it and would love to hear if you did! 🤗❤️

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[latte-fairytaekwoon]

𝚈𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎! 𝙰𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚣 𝙿𝚛𝚘𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚜: 𝙲𝚑𝚘𝚒 𝚂𝚊𝚗

Disclaimer: In no way am I condoning, justifying, encouraging nor trying to romanticize or promote yandere behavior. This is all a work of fiction and not meant to represent real life scenarios.

Warnings: Mentions of toxic relationship, violence, torture, murder, death, degradation, sexual scenes that might disturb some readers, and other yandere behavior. Read at your own discretion.

Tag list: @seacottons

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𝙽𝚊𝚖𝚎: 𝙲𝚑𝚘𝚒 𝚂𝚊𝚗

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𝙾𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚃𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝙻𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚕: 𝙴𝚡𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚎

𝚈𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝙲𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗: 𝙳𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚌

𝙱𝚎𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚕 𝙰𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚢𝚜𝚒𝚜:

•𝚂𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚌 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚕 𝚟𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚖.

•𝙵𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚞𝚗𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚟𝚘𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚛.

•𝚄𝚜𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝙱𝙳𝚂𝙼 𝚜𝚎𝚡𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚙𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜.

•𝙴𝚡𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚐𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚒𝚏 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚟𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚍.

•𝙼𝚎𝚛𝚌𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚗𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚌 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It was his sweet and innocent smile...

That's how it always starts with him.

Everyone falls victim to that smile that radiates happiness with dimples that captivate your heart.

But he never chases anyone down.

San wants them to chase him, so he plays hard to get.

And he's not looking for a relationship, he just enjoys hooking up with people.

No strings attached, no commitments, his booty call list is miles long.

And then you came along.

What was it about you that drew Choi San to you?

Was it your pure and intact body?

Was it your curious and inexperienced eyes that begged for excitement and adventure?

Perhaps a mix of both aspects?

Whatever it was, the day you crossed paths with San, was the day you crossed paths with the devil himself.

"Hi. I'm San....pleasure to meet you."

San's first goal with you was just to get in your pants like he did with the rest.

But you weren't easy, and when he found out you were a virgin, the goal changed.

Now he wanted you.

He became obsessed with owning everything about you: your mind, body, heart, and soul.

He wanted it all and he'd get it no matter the cost.

So he plays the sweet caring boyfriend for a while.

Yes, Choi San was exclusively yours, much to the shock and disappointment of others.

As a boyfriend, he was very caring to you.

Perfect gentleman that held you in high esteem and made you feel like you were the most important person in the world.

You truly fell deeply and madly in love with his charms.

So you had no qualms about letting him take your virginity, letting him be your first.

After all, he did love you.....right?

Well he did love corrupting you.

And after your first night together, he became more demanding and started showing aggressiveness towards you.

He'd never hide his displeasure if he saw you wearing something he didn't like.

"Why are you wearing that in public? You look like a whore."

He'd make you tell him your every move about where you went and with whom.

And if you didn't answer or reply to his messages, he'd somehow always find you.

"Why the fuck weren't you answering me? When I talk to you, I demand an answer."

And if there was a particular thing he absolutely hated, was your male friend that you often saw.

"I don't want you hanging out with that friend of yours."

"He's my childhood friend? He's like my brother. " You told him.

San just glared at you. "I don't care. I don't want you hanging out with him. That's final."

You rolled your eyes at him and thought he was just being jealous.

It was wrong of you to disobey him.

Next time he came over to your house, you were there with your friend...

If that scene alone didn't make San angry, the fact you were wearing a very thin tank top and revealing shorts made him get rigid.

"I thought I fucking told you never to see him again!" He screamed at you, striking fear in you at the way he raised his voice.

Your friend, however, wasn't scared of San and decided it would be good to stand up to your possessive and controlling boyfriend.

"You need to leave Y/N alone. She doesn't deserve to deal with someone like you."

Grabbing your hand, your friend tried to take you away from there, but San wasn't having it.

Roughly, he gripped your arm and pulled you away from your friend, placing you behind him.

"She's not yours to decide what to do. She's mine. Got it?"

Your friend wasn't going to give in that easily. He shoved San which culminated in fists flying from both of them.

"Stop! Stop it! Both of you!" You begged, covering your eyes at the violent scene.

They ended up in the kitchen, with your friend gaining the upper hand and holding San down against the counter.

It all happened too fast for you to react:

San grabbing a knife which was withing his reach, coming up and striking your friend in his lower abdomen....

And it didn't stop there.

San took out the knife and began to repeatedly stab him until his body collapsed on the floor, completely lifeless.

You were in such shock you couldn't find your own voice to scream for help.

The last thing you saw was San's diabolical eyes looking at you, his footsteps getting closer to you before you passed out from shock and the intensity of what you just witnessed.

You woke up approximately 12 hours later, feeling sore and somewhat sticky.

You let out a mix between a whine and a moan when you feel something very familiar sliding in and out of you.

Turning your head, you're met with a smirking San, his hands on your hips as his cock thrusts deep inside of you.

Looking down, you notice your hands are bound by handcuffs that are tied to the bed.

You jostled the handcuffs, trying to get them off you but were met with a harsh slap to your ass by San.

"Don't you dare." Was his only warning before snapping his hips even harder, making you come all over him in mere seconds.

For the first few days, he kept you handcuffed to his bed, refusing to let you go.

"If I let you go, you'll try to run away. I can't have you doing that."

So your days consisted of waking up with San next to you, having him feed you things which you swore had something in them since you always ended up feeling drowsy afterwards.

And of course having him fuck you like you were his personal sex toy every single night.

Finally one day, he removed the handcuffs from you.

"Try to run away and I will break your ankles."

He often had to leave the house for work, so the first day you were left to wander around, you stupidly tried to check if any windows or doors were left unlocked.

But they weren't. They were all bolted in and out.

And San walked in just in time to see you try to smash open one of the windows.

"Seriously?! I give you a simple order and you disobey me?!"

You ended up not being able to walk for 6 weeks because San was true to his word: he broke your ankles.

Now you were deathly scared of pissing him off.

So you tried your best to just please him, do whatever he asked you to do.

Whether it'd be cooking him food, cleaning the house, sucking him off or letting him do any of his depraved sexual acts on your body.

The only request you actually enjoy doing for him is when he asks you to cuddle up next to him.

Feeling his chest move up and down, hearing his heartbeat while his hand strokes your hair, you think maybe.....just maybe.....there's still a hint of the sweet man you met at first, the one you fell in love with..

But that image is quickly shattered whenever he pushes you off him or strikes you across the face because you 'glared at him or rolled your eyes at him.'

And you can't even cry in front of him because it just angers him even more.

Once, he held a pillow over your face so as to muffle your annoying little whimpers.

And another time he almost drowned you in the bathtub.

Sometimes you really did wish he'd end your misery.

As the days passed by, it was getting harder and harder to deal with his violent mood swings.

Nothing was ever good enough for him, and if anyone from the outside world angered him, you were the one who had to bear the punishment.

Either in the form of harsh beatings or so many overstimulations.

"San...." You whined, tears falling out of your eyes as your body couldn't handle another orgasm.

San merely slapped your swollen and red pussy, making you hiss at the stinging pain.

"I'm not done with you yet my little slut. This dirty hole of yours belongs to me and I'll fuck it as many times as I want to." He growled in your ear.

You were often left limping for a day or two, while San merely snickered under his breath, proud of himself for ruining you yet again.

With how much sex he was making you two have it surprised you how you never ended up pregnant, considering that he always went in raw with you.

Your question was answered one day when your period came late and it was excruciatingly painful.

You were bleeding more heavily than usual and it felt like your guts were being ripped apart.

San took you to the hospital, warning you not to say anything.

It's not like you could anyway, you were in so much pain and under heavy medication that you never got the chance to say anything.

Especially not when San took you home early so you wouldn't get the chance.

"What happened? What did they do to me?"

Grudgingly, San handed over the hospital papers to you.

You felt like you lost the ability to breathe when you read that it was necessary for them to remove your uterus since it had been severely damaged by some weird chemical substance.

"I don't understand! I've never taken anything! Have I?!"

San only blinked at you, then looked down and walked away from you.

That's when it hit you: every time he made food, and you always ended up feeling weird.....

San had been altering with your own body all this time!

You were beyond disgusted, you were repulsed and you hit your breaking point.

Something in you snapped as you marched up to San and pushed him into the wall, demanding to know why he would do that.

"So you wouldn't get pregnant! If you had gotten pregnant, I would have had to be soft to you. I wasn't going to do that." He admitted that so casually, as if there was nothing wrong in the way he treated you.

And that was it for you, the last straw of your sanity left as you slapped San harshly across the face.

Of course he retaliated, but you weren't going to give in so easily.

Using whatever strength you had left, you tried to fight him off, even going as far as breaking a vase over his head, which rendered him immobile for a while.

You ran to the basement, and picked up a can of gasoline and a couple of matches.

Running back inside, you spilled the contents all around the hallway, the living room and in the dreaded bedroom that you loathed with every fiber of your being.

Then you struck up a match and let it fall, watching as part of the house burst up in flames.

You went to a part of the house that you left intact, where there was a window.

Picking up a baseball bat, the same one San had used to break your ankles, you tried to break it open, succeeding only in cracking it...

Before a pair of bloody arms pulled you back and dragged you deeper into the burning part of the house.

You struggled to get out of his grip, but he was much stronger than you and the black fumes that you were inhaling were only debilitating you more.

The last thing you remember was San glaring at you, wrath written all over his face as he said his final words to you:

"If I'm going to hell, I'm dragging you down with me...."

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#ateez #ateez headcanons #ateez san #choi san #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez yandere au #ateez yandere #yandere!au #yandere!ateez #yandere!san #ateez smut #ateez angst #ateez fluff #ateez san scenarios #ateez san headcanons #ateez san imagines #ateez reactions #ateez san fluff #ateez san angst #ateez san smut #choi san headcanons #choi san smut #choi san angst #choi san fluff #choi san imagines #choi san scenarios

[beeexx]

The missing Tarlos scenes from 2x06

Word count: 4.8    Read on ao3

.......

“You know you need to tell him this, right?”

“No, no, I really don’t.” TK protests loudly, by banging the frozen bag of chickens into the counter, hoping they will shake loose with the excess force he is using. Carlos lifts an eyebrow from where he is standing in boxers and an old tank top, too much skin on display for it to be good for TK’s health, cutting onions into small, stupidly neat pieces on the chopping board. 

“TK….” Carlos begins, in that voice of his and TK turns around, eyes flashing.

“Carlos.” 

Carlos huffs.

“Babe, this is clearly bothering you, and taking it out on our poor dinner isn’t ideal.” He points out.

“Oh, sure Carlos, I’ll just tell my dad that him having another kid is a terrible idea because I’m a prime example of how they messed up with the first one.”

“TK…” 

“Oh and while I’m at it I might as well bring up how I am feeling about it and make it all about myself like I always do, that ought to go down really well.” He snaps and Carlos sighs. 

“You don’t make everything about yourself.” TK lifts an eyebrow and Carlos snorts. “Okay, sometimes you do, but often not without a legit reason and this is definitely a situation I feel you’re entitled to feel whatever it is that you’re really feeling and express that.” 

“Okay, well if we’re on the subject of telling parents what we really think then why don’t you take a page out of your own book and tell your parents that you have a boyfriend, oh, or better yet, the way you’ve been feeling for years about them refusing to acknowledge that you’re gay.” As soon as the words leave his mouth TK regrets them and he winces at the wounded look Carlos sends his way at his harsh words.

Fuck. 

“That’s not the same thing.” Carlos mutters, he sounds bitter about it and were it not for the deeply thoughtful look also making its way across his features TK would take the words back immediately.

“I could have gone about that differently, sorry…. But, but isn’t that exactly the same thing as this is though.” 

“We were talking about you.” Carlos points out in an attempt to deflect and TK just chooses to let it go because he doesn’t have the energy to have an argument about two different things at the moment. His head is enough of a mess as it is. 

“My point still stands, talking to your parents about all the ways they have hurt you is fucking hard, okay?”

“Yes, okay I will agree with you on that.”

“And if you really want to make this all about me this time then fine. Try telling my dad, Owen Strand, Captain of the 126, adored by his crew, envied by even more, hero, cancer survivor, the list could go on for a long time Carlos, yes try telling that person that oh yeah by the way dad you neglected me as a child and now I have both abandonment issues, self esteem issues and a constant fear that no one is ever going to love me because I am not worthy of it, that will go down real well.” 

He hits the bag three more times against the counter and lets out a triumphant sound as the frozen chickens finally rattle loose inside and he turns to hold it up to Carlos, a sly little smile at the corner of his lip, because his tactic did work even though Carlos had doubted it would. Carlos isn’t smiling though, he’s frowning, concern written all over his face, eyebrows pinched together and TK drops the bag in confusion.

“What?”

Carlos puts the knife down and takes the bag from TK, throwing it lazily, without looking in the direction of the kitchen sink before he steps up close, wrapping his arms around TK and pulling him close. TK lets out a huff of air, taken aback by the fierceness of the action. 

“I hate it when you do this to yourself…” Carlos starts and TK sighs, wraps his arms around him back and nods against Carlos’ neck, can’t help but breathe him in, feeling the calming effect of it already working through his system. 

“Sorry.”

“No, no don’t apologise.” Carlos leans back and TK looks up to meet his stormy eyes. He opens his mouth but he isn’t sure what to say. 

“I love you, okay? So much and I wish I could hit that into your thick skull sometimes but I can’t, so I’m just going to have to spend every day in this relationship proving that you are indeed worthy of love and no past damage or mistakes will change that, okay?” TK can only nod, his throat suddenly thick with emotions he doesn’t know how to express.

“With that said, you’re not very good at keeping things bottled up, especially not for a long time and especially not something this big, so you should probably really think about what you actually feel about this whole situation before you choose to do that.”

“Judd said I was jealous.”

“Jealous?”

“Yeah, something about me wanting to push the baby down a well or something because I couldn’t handle not being the only child anymore.”

“He said what now?” TK chuckles at Carlos’ incredulous look and he shrugs.

“It was some biblical reference I don’t know. Prodigal son?” 

“Oh, like Cain and Abel, like a lesser known older brother and the jealousy that stems from it because it’s natural to resent the baby because you’re scared it’s going to take your place.” Realisation dawns on Carlos’ face and his eyes light up like they always do when he gets to talk about things he knows, which at times is a surprisingly big amount of random shit.

“Yeah, yeah, exactly that.” TK says sarcastically, gives Carlos a curious look.

“What? I read.” He shrugs and smirks proudly. TK hums. ”Well Judd is good at a lot of things, maybe giving advice isn’t his forte.”

“And yours is?” TK lifts a challenging eyebrow. 

“I am an excellent advice giver, I’ll have you know. The issue isn’t me, the issue is everyone else and no one listening to what I’m saying.”

“Oh, so you have a lot of experience then, giving advice?” TK bites down his smile as Carlos glares without heat.

“I chased Michelle around for years when she was getting in trouble searching for her sister. I definitely have a lot of experience.” TK chuckles and leans up to kiss his nose. It wrinkles adorably and TK’s heart tugs in his chest. He loves Carlos so much.

“I love you too, so much. And I’m sorry for bringing up your parents again, that wasn’t nice of me.” TK apologizes and Carlos nods and watches back with quiet brown intense eyes.

“It’s okay, you were right though.” He grudgingly admits. 

“Maybe, but there is no pressure, as I’ve said you can take all the time in the world that you need to figure it out and I’ll support you either way.” He promises and Carlos gives him a soft beautiful smile.

“Thanks.” Carlos whispers, grateful and TK nods, and gently starts scraping his knuckles against Carlos’ scalp, pulling at his curls in a way that makes his face soften immediately, eyes falling shut in contentment and his arms tighten around TK, breathing heavily. His reaction tells TK that Carlos feels really comforted by the way he is touching him and that he needed it more than he let on.

TK has always responded well to touch, Carlos picked up on that a lot quicker than most, but it’s also not uncommon for Carlos to like it as well. He just doesn’t always express it, so TK’s taken to doing it when he senses it’s something Carlos needs, while not always being aware of it himself. It’s these small gestures TK’s learnt, that you do for the other person and that they do for you that love really is. 

Carlos’ eyes are closed and he’s letting out soft sounds of pleasure, it’s distracting as hell, and it’s making it even more difficult being this close to him and not kissing him, so TK does because he feels he can’t not do it, and angles Carlos’ head down and captures his lips in a searing hot kiss. As always when they kiss like this, starting out soft, but then growing with intention and heat, the slowburn of arousal starts to make its way through his veins, electric energy flooding his system. Only Carlos has this effect on him. 

When Carlos reaches to grab at his hair and then bites at his lip it makes TK whine and chase after him when he moves back. 

“Dinner, remember?” Carlos reminds him, but with his curls standing up unruly and his pupils dark with want, it’s very hard for TK to remember the reason why he can’t skip dinner all together and eat Carlos out instead. Carlos huffs and his hands tighten around his sides like he can read TK’s mind.

“After dinner.”

“Is that a promise?” TK asks slyly. 

“Yes.” Carlos reassures and the slow self satisfied grin tugging at his lips is fucking obscene and TK cheekily grabs his ass in retaliation. Carlos knows the effect he has on him. 

“You know cooking in boxers can be a fire hazard.” He points out.

“Good thing I know an excellent firefighter then.” He says and kisses TK hard on the lips before he steps away, walking back to his mostly finished chopped up onions, giving TK a very nice view of his ass in the black tight boxers he’s wearing. God, his boyfriend is hot as fuck.

The rest of the evening is so nice in fact that for a moment he doesn’t think about his parents or the baby, or anything other than how much he loves Carlos and how lucky he is to really have him in his life.

…….

TK unlocks the door to Carlos’ place, throws the bag towards what he hopes is the direction of the shoes, and puts his keys down in the bowl by the door, where Carlo’s are already lying. He steps inside and almost jumps out of skin when he sees his boyfriend sitting on the stairs, frowning and very clearly waiting for him. Most of the lights are off and it casts his features into stunning relief, even when angry, Carlos is too good looking for his own good.

“So, you heard?” TK gulps and Carlos nods.

“Yes, yes I did hear, from the group chat, but not just that, every goddamn news station in the state is covering how two firefighters jumped through a minefield to save two boys that were hurt.”

“Well, only one of them was hurt.” TK shuts his mouth when Carlos levels him with a deeply unimpressed look and he takes a slow step forward and tries again.

“In my defense, I am certified and I was qualified to do it.” TK stops, draws in a sharp breath, backtracks. “Are you mad?” 

Carlos lets out a deep breath, and his features soften slightly before he shakes his head, scrubs a hand through his face and when he looks up his eyes are wide and sad.

“No, no, of course I’m not mad. Just extremely worried.”

“Oh?” TK asks, feels confused, scrambling to catch up with the change, having been expecting that Carlos would be upset with him. Carlos huffs and opens his arms and it’s all TK needs for him to take a few steps forward before he sits down between Carlos’ legs, wrapping his arms around his neck, pulling him close. Carlos plants a kiss in his hair, and tightens his grip around TK, almost unconsciously starts stroking his hands down his back and TK lets him, can’t push away the guilt that’s come on so strong, mixing badly with the elevation he’s also feeling after the day he’s had. But when his boyfriend reacts like this it can’t help but leave an acid taste in his mouth too.

“I’m not sure whether I want to never let you leave my arms ever again or brag to everyone that I am for sure dating a hero.” Carlos says and were it not for the slight tremor of his voice that he tries to conceal, TK would laugh. 

“I wouldn’t mind never leaving your arms.” He admits because it sounds appealing, especially now, when adrenaline is starting to make way to exhaustion instead. 

Carlos huffs. 

“You’d get bored after a day or two.” He points out and TK shakes his head.

“You underestimate the excellent sex we do have, I’m sure I could be convinced for three days or so.” Carlos laughs, but then one of his hands wrap around TK’s wrist, feeling out his pulse, comforted by the steady thumping of it. TK lets him, allowing himself after the hectic day he’s had to tuck his face into the crook of Carlos’ shoulder and neck to breathe him in. They both have different ways of calming themselves down when the other one is near and on certain days they need it a little more than on others. 

“Your pulse is beating insanely quick.” Carlos points out after a while and TK hums against Carlos’ neck, gives himself a moment before he detaches himself slightly so he can look at him. 

“Adrenaline.” He shows Carlos his hand that’s still trembling slightly and Carlos’ eyebrow pinch in concern.

“I’m sorry -” TK begins because he really does hate it when Carlos is sad but Carlos shakes his head and interrupts. 

“No, no, this is on me. I know you have a dangerous job that sometimes requires that you take risks, I just wish they didn't have to be this big, a minefield, that’s just insane.” TK nods, he understands.

“But also really cool.” He can’t help but let slip out, eyes alive in excitement and smirking. Carlos snorts and pokes his nose, a little hard maybe, but only a little.

“Yes and designed to give me a goddamn heart attack, you know I’m not even 30, by this rate I’ll be going grey before I hit 35.” He points out, gives TK a look that speaks volumes about how offended Carlos seems to be over that. He laughs and reaches for Carlos’ hair, tugging gently on it.

“I think you’d suit grey really well to be fair.” Carlos wrinkles his nose in distaste and it’s so adorable that he can’t help but laugh again and Carlos distaste slowly melts into something much softer and he sticks his tongue out instead like a mature 26 year old that he is. “And if we’re pointing fingers, remember that hostage situation a while back where an office was shot and I thought it was you because you wouldn’t answer your phone?” Carlos winces and he looks momentarily guilty about that because TK had been so fucking worried he could barely even do his job that day and when Carlos hadn’t answered by the time they were both off shift TK had lost it a little bit. 

“Not my finest moment.” Carlos admits.

“No, so don’t go pointing fingers.” But he’s mostly joking even though that day had been scary as fuck, he so very much understands Carlos’ worry today, he really does. Carlos hums.

“How was it then?” He asks and TK bites at his lip, trying to figure out how to word everything. He turns towards Carlos and sits up on his knees, bringing him eyelevel with him and wraps his arms around his neck. Immediately Carlos’ hands come to rest on his waist, his fingers slipping underneath TK’s jumper to trace skin. 

“It was incredible, well the minefield aside which was scary for sure, but after that I’ve been feeling like I’ve been on this incredibly long lasting high ever since.” Carlos lifts an eyebrow at the metaphor and TK shrugs sheepishly. 

“Yeah, but it’s an apt metaphor for the feeling. I guess I haven’t felt good like that in a while.”

“No?” Carlos asks and there is no trace of judgement or anything in his voice, just kind and curious eyes looking at him. TK nods.

“The only other times I’ve felt this kind of high is you know actually getting high and when I’m with you, I guess the job’s been missing that spark for a while.” Carlos smiles and leans forward to plant a kiss on his nose.

“I’m not totally sure about comparing this relationship to a high.” He points out and TK snorts.

“I’m not, I’m comparing the feeling. Being with you is like pure happiness you know? I feel, just, like I’ve never felt before and even when it’s tough it’s worth it because I love you so much and I know deep down that you love me too and I never don’t want to spend my time with you, so yeah, the feeling is addictive for sure. I really just love you.” He goes quiet and Carlos' eyes have softened and he’s met by a look of pure love and a breathtakingly beautiful smile breaks across Carlos’ face before he pulls TK close and kisses him softly and slowly, making TK’s toes curl inside of his shoes. 

“Fuck.” Carlos whispers against his lips. “I love you too, so much.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Carlos says with adoring eyes and voice full of love before he runs his hand through TK’s hair and gently pulls him close, kissing him hard on his lips again. It’s TK who pulls back though making Carlos lift an eyebrow in surprise because it’s unexpected for TK to be the one to do this, so before TK can chicken out he blurts out the words.

“But I might have done something stupid…”

“Oh?” Carlos asks, amusement dancing in his eyes like he’s totally expecting it. 

“Yeah, I might have handed in my resume to Vega for the position to become a paramedic.” He rushes the words out, hates the silence between them and can’t help but feel ridiculously nervous all of a sudden waiting for Carlos' reaction. Carlos opens and closes his mouth a few times then shakes his head.

“Okay, wait, I think you need to back up a few steps here so I can follow.” He says, confusion evident in his eyes. But he’s giving TK an encouraging look at TK takes in a deep breath.

“The minefield was not fun and the thought of what could have happened to me and my dad while out there was really scary. I’m not trying to take massive risks anymore, not when I have you to come home to.” Carlos smiles, lovingly, and gives him an encouraging look spurring TK on. “But I knew someone had to get to the kid and with the help of my dad and Vega that I could do something about it, so I volunteered. And the elevation afterwards, that all came from saving the kid. It just… it felt really good to save someone, to be the one to actually do it.” TK confesses loudly for the first time since his shift ended and he in the spur of the moment added his name to the pile in Vega’s office, and saying it makes him feel a little calmer than he has ever since walking off the field. 

“Oh, okay.” Carlos says, not fully understanding yet what TK is trying to say, and yet being so patient with him, waiting for TK to figure it out. 

“I don’t know, I sometimes feel like I’m not doing enough in the field, like I could do more... and while I also know that’s not the case because every day we all go out in the field doing our best together. But I think I’ve been carrying this with me for a while now, it’s just that this year has been a lot, and even when there is a pandemic going on people still forget to turn their stove off, and they get into car accidents or have their cats escape up in trees unable to come down. The world hasn’t stopped, it’s been moving and I’ve been moving with it without having the time to reflect a lot on myself and the job. But today, I don’t know, I felt like something just clicked while out there and when I could really help him...I guess, I really liked doing it.” TK blushes because he’s been ranting and he’s averted his eyes but they move back to Carlos by their own accord and Carlos’ eyes have cleared from all earlier confusion, instead understanding has taken over and he nods his head thoughtfully.

“And that’s why you handed in your resume? Because you want to continue doing it?” Carlos fills in and TK nods biting his lip.

“D-do you… Do you think it’s a good idea?”

“It’s not up to me to tell you what to do babe, but you know what?”

“What?” TK asks, hanging onto every word he’s saying. 

“I think you’d be good at it.”

“Yeah?” He asks, hopeful, and Carlos smiles.

“Of course, you’d be amazing at it, if it’s what you want.”

“It is yes, it’s what I want.” TK says with certainty. It’s just clicked, like all that has been shaking loose and upended recently inside of him finally settle a little more.

“Then yes, it’s an amazing idea. You’re going to be so good.” Carlos grins and TK melts because while he doesn’t depend on Carlos’ approval for this it’s so nice to see him be actually happy for him.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Carlos promises and TK releases the breath he wasn’t aware he’d been holding and his own face breaks into a relieved smile. 

“I think I could be good at it too.” He confesses a little shyly and Carlos beams and pulls TK slightly forward, his forehead resting on his and everything just settles for TK because nothing beats this, nothing beats Carlos. 

“I’m proud of you.” Carlos says and TK can’t bite down the smile. But it falls off his face after a moment and he moves back, looks a little unsure again.

“I might have done something else that wasn’t very smart.” Carlos huffs, lifts an eyebrow, so ever patient with him.

“What did you do now?”

“I didn’t tell my dad…” He trails off and Carlos grimaces but then a look of determination takes over and he shrugs before he gently grasps TK’s face between his hands, stroking a thumb lovingly along his cheek.

“Well, you know what I think?” TK shakes his head. “I think it’s not any of his business really.”  

That surprises TK to be honest and he lifts an eyebrow.

“W-what? I mean really?”

“Yeah, I mean maybe you should have told him before you just went and did it, but it’s your life and not his. And as long as you’re not doing it for someone else then it’s not really his choice to make.”

“I’m doing it for me, it’s what I want.” Carlos’ lip lifts in a proud smile and he nods.

“Good.”

“But, what if he’s not happy?”

“I don’t think he will be unhappy, maybe a little surprised and maybe give him a moment. But if he knows you like I do, then he will realise it’s a good thing.”

“Okay, I hope so.” TK musters up a wane smile, still can’t push away the spikes of anxiety about the conversation he’s going to have to have with his dad. But it can wait, for a little while at least. 

“You know Vega is going to bust your ass right?” Carlos jokes, eyes full of mirth, smirking and TK snorts.

“Yeah, yeah I know.”

“I remember when Michelle started training under her, the stories she would tell me, Vega is badass and she taught Michelle who is also a badass, I’m expecting she’s going to do the same to you.”

“I’m already a badass.” TK reminds him and Carlos chuckles. 

“True, I think she will do you some good though. Challenge you and allow you to really thrive under her, she has that effect on people.” TK nods.

“It’s a tough job…”

“Yeah, but as you said, you’re already a badass, you’re going to do great.”

“It will be nice to be the paramedic, rather than calling one.” TK says and it grows a little more serious between them. 

“I mean -” TK clears his throat at Carlos’ silence. “I have experience of being on the other end and I know what it’s like being helped. I guess a part of me is looking forward to doing the helping.”

“I see, well you care so much about people and if you get a chance to show that, to show them this.” Carlos' hands move to cover TK’s heart and it flutters in his chest, warmth spreading to every cell of his body and he smiles shyly. “Then, well, you’re going to be very good at it.” TK bites his lip and nods.

“It feels… I don’t know, just right.”

“Good, that’s amazing.” TK doesn’t know what to say but he’s grateful, more than how he knows to express at the moment but in the way Carlo’s face softens, maybe he can read between the lines.

“Have you talked to Owen about the baby yet?” TK groans, can’t help but glare, the moment between them broken suddenly, like a bucket of ice cold water has been thrown at him, and he moves his head away, hiding in the crook of Carlos’ shoulder and neck and nibbles at his skin making Carlos chuckle, twitching in his arms.

“No, not yet…” He says though, voice muffled by Carlos’ skin. 

“Well, do you want to talk about it?” TK sighs but takes his head away and meets Carlos’ eyes. 

“I feel… I mean I am happy for them of course but...” He bites at his lip, hard and Carlos reaches forward with his thumb to gently stroke it over the swollen redness making TK stop the action. He takes in a deep breath instead.

“But they always do this, and I don’t even think they are realising it, but they get so single-minded and focused on themselves that they forget everything else. The fighting isn’t fun, I’ve been in the middle of it and I know how lonely and unwanted you can feel when it happens. What they’re doing, it feels like they are just falling into the same patterns as before without even realising that they are, and it’s not going to last if they do it that way.” 

Carlos looks thoughtful and TK feels annoyed and frustrated because he can’t help but think it makes his parents feel so irresponsible and it’s hard to come to terms with that because his parents in their own right are extremely competent people, it’s just when together, they aren’t always. 

“I support you, I always will and your feelings here are valid and to be worried is honestly a sign of growth.” Carlos begins.

“Oh, you're calling me mature, that’s unusual.” TK jokes, changing the subject.

“I mean you’re definitely a hot mess, a terrible terrible driver for sure.” Carlos easily fires back.

“God, did Judd text you?”

“And filmed some of it. This is why I’m never letting you drive my baby.”

“Hold on, I thought I was your baby, and here I find out you have someone else on the side?” Carlos’ arms tighten around him, biting his lip, the smile threatening to take over. 

“What can I say, I really like that car and I paid a lot of money for it.”

“It’s a terrible car for making out in.” TK reminds him and Carlos smirks, reminded of the few times they’ve gotten frisky in it. 

“True, still not letting you drive it.” He teases and TK glares. 

“Rude.”

“Maybe, but I care too much about the possibility of my greying hairs to get here sooner than I’d like to, to get into a car where you are driving us.”

“Well I might be a paramedic soon, so at least you'd be with someone where your odds are fractionally better if you were to get in an accident.”

“Still not letting you drive it Strand.”

“Worth a shot.” TK laughs and Carlos smiles.

“So, do you want dinner or?”

TK shakes his head.

“No, I’m good, but I’m getting too old to sit on my knees like this.” He grumbles and shifts to get the blood running again. Carlos chuckles and makes it all the easier by just scooping him up in his arms. TK yelps and Carlos grins, delighted by the sound. TK wraps his legs around Carlos’ waist, tightens his arms around his neck.

“Please don’t drop me.” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it baby.” Carlos reassures grinningly. “So, bed?”

“Bed.” TK agrees.

He lets Carlos carry him up the stairs and into the bedroom, feeling so safe in his arms, that whatever conversation that’s waiting for him tomorrow with his dad, doesn’t matter as much anymore.

#911 lone star #9-1-1 lone star #tarlos #tarlos fic #tk x carlos #911 lone star fanfiction #911 lone star fic #tk strand #carlos reyes #tarlos fanfiction

[cyhyr]

Summer of Whump Day 27: Injured

Fandom: Naruto

Rating: T

Pairing: Hatake Kakashi & Umino Iruka

WC: ~1970

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply; kid whump

Notes: Caning. Tied up. Academy-age Iruka, ANBU Kakashi. Post-Kyūbi attack. AU where Iruka and Kakashi were once friends.

A/N: Happy Birthday To Me!!! I've been looking forward to this one for over a week :)

A/N 2: Combo with my Bad Things Happen Bingo Board square: Caning

~

Kakashi sighs, watching Iruka walk home without a care in the world. That prank he pulled today was genius, and it caught a genin team unawares while they were out cat-catching, but Sandaime-sama could have been a bit harsher during the disciplinary hearing. Kakashi had been in the room—the kid had zoned out, Sarutobi sighed like this was a waste of time, and then the two of them sat down and played shogi and had tea for an hour.

Kakashi steps away as Umino unlocks his door and goes inside. One of these days, his pranks are going to come back to bite him. And worse, he’ll have deserved it.

~

Iruka is particularly proud of today’s prank, having dropped a barrel of day-old frying oil on a genin team because they were too absorbed in their mission and not aware of their surroundings. Really, he did them a favor. If they’d been in a real combat situation, it could have ended with one of them dying instead of the lot of them just needing a serious bath.

He closes and locks the door behind him and slips out of his sandals. He’ll have to wait at least a week to perform the next—

The window is open.

He never leaves the window open.

Iruka fumbles back for the doorknob but there’s already someone behind him, and he yelps and turns around to face them. The kid—he’s not much older than Iruka, how did he get past the wards on his window??—grins maniacally down at him and crowds him back. Iruka takes a few steps further into the apartment, and screams around the hand that covers his mouth from behind. The one behind him drags him into the center of his studio apartment with their other arm around Iruka’s chest, pinning his arms to his side.

He goes to kick out behind himself, to get at the one holding him, but a third sticks a kunai under his chin just before he readies his foot and tsks at him.

Iruka settles down. He’s really outnumbered.

“What’s the Hokage got you doing as punishment?” The first one, the one blocking the way to his door, asks.

Iruka can’t answer. The second one still has their hand over his mouth.

The third one snaps his fingers. “That's right! I heard all about it!” His face darkens and he glowers down at Iruka, “Fucking nothing. A slap on the wrist and an afternoon of tea and shogi with the Hokage—what a punishment!”

This is the genin team he caught in his trap earlier, he realizes. And, Oh, shit, they’re angry.

Number One pulls out a spool of chakra wire with a grin. He takes Iruka’s hands and ties them together in front of him, wrapping the wire between his fingers to keep them still and preventing him from making hand-seals—as if he knew any jutsu that would be particularly useful here. The other end of the wire is threaded through the handle of Number Three’s kunai, and then Three throws it up into the ceiling where it sticks.

“Get the window, Hiro,” Number One says, and Number Two—Hiro—goes and shuts the window, and then pulls back the curtains. Number One pulls on the chakra wire, yanking Iruka’s arms up above his head until he’s on his toes.

He whimpers. “Guys, really, it was just a joke—a prank! I didn’t mean any harm by it! I’m sorry!”

“That’s right,” Number Three sneers, “You should be groveling for forgiveness.”

“Doesn’t mean we have to give it to you,” Hiro says, producing a thin wooden cane from out of his pack and tapping it against his palm.

“Ready for your real punishment, kohai?” Number One grins, stepping forward and pushing a bandana into Iruka’s mouth. He ties it behind Iruka’s head. He then takes a knife to Iruka’s shirt down his back and slices away the fabric, against his muffled cries.

“I think ten strikes should be enough to get the point through to him,” Number Three says, putting his finger into the tears running down Iruka’s cheeks. “Ten strikes each, of course. He wronged all of us.”

~

Kakashi patrols the village vigilantly, and keeps thinking about the three genin covered in frying oil. He tries to be sympathetic. Dirty oil has a way of staining, he supposes; they’ll be lucky to be able to salvage any of what they’d been wearing.

Really, Iruka did those kids a favor. If it had been a field mission and they’d been caught off-guard like that… He won’t admit it out loud, but if losing their clothes and having to wash frying oil out of their hair will teach that genin team to remain vigilant, Iruka likely did them a great service.

Earlier, they had been outside the Hokage’s office, asking about what disciplinary actions were going to be taken against Umino. And they had been pissed to hear that Sandaime-sama only gave him a stern talking-to.

Kakashi wonders if, maybe, he should check in with their jōnin-sensei.

~

Iruka screams through the gag. With each strike of the cane against his back, he sobs harder. He wonders if anyone will notice; probably not. If anyone will care; definitely not. Sandaime-sama says the village is a family but really? An orphan is an orphan. No one will—

“My turn, Kaoru,” Hiro says. Number One, Kaoru apparently, gets one more strike in before handing off the cane. He won’t be able to sleep tonight. Should he go to the hospital after this? How was he going to get to the hospital after this? Would anyone believe him that it wasn’t a prank, that he’s been attacked in his own village?

Iruka cries, trying to beg for mercy through the gag. The genin team ignores him, and Hiro moves into position. The cane comes down onto his back.

~

“I don’t keep track of them after training,” Yūto-sensei says. “As for that Umino kid, he deserves what he gets if he gets something worse than how Sarutobi disciplined him.”

Kakashi makes the call to leave his patrol and head for Umino’s apartment. He doesn’t call his team; he’d make it there faster alone. And he has a bad feeling that he should have stayed after following him home.

~

Iruka sobs heavily, his chin resting against his chest; until the tip of the cane is there, lifting with gentle pressure and sure threat. Iruka meets the eyes of Number Three—Shiori, he’s learned. As if knowing their names makes any difference. In a normal hostage situation, the textbooks say to try and develop a rapport with your captors and find out their names, offer your own. This isn’t a hostage situation; it’s torture.

They haven’t gotten to the torture resistance unit yet.

“Take the gag off,” Shiori orders. Kaoru does so.

Iruka gasps, heaves deep breaths. He licks his lips and then says, “I’m sorry,” over and over again.

Shiori puts the cane against his lips and Iruka whimpers. “I know,” he says, “but you still have to be punished. And I want to hear you scream, unburdened.”

“Shiori—” Hiro starts nervously.

“No one cares about him,” Shiori says, rolling his eyes. “So what if he screams? He’s just another orphan, having another nightmare.” He drags the cane along Iruka’s bare side as he takes up position behind him.

“Please, don’t…” Iruka whines. “No more. I’m sorry.”

“Bad kids need to be taught. You don’t have parents anymore, and if the Sandaime won’t do it, then it falls to us, your senpai, to teach you.”

The cane comes down.

Iruka cries out, thrashing in the chakra wire. Kaoru and Hiro look around nervously as the cane comes down again, pulling another scream from Iruka’s lips.

The third time, a knock comes on his door. “Umino-kun, are you alright?”

A kunai is at his throat immediately, Shiori dropping the cane aside.

Iruka doesn’t know how to respond. He needs to get away from these guys, but he doesn’t know who’s on the other side of the door—it could be a shinobi, but it could also just be the old couple who manages his apartment. He can’t tell by the voice.

“Tell them it was just a bad dream," Shiori orders, hissing in his ear.

He decides to take a chance. He pings a line of chakra through the door, something small, hoping it will hit whoever’s there and alert them. “I—I’m sorry. Bad dream,” he calls back.

He’s relieved to receive a ping of chakra back.

“If you’re sure,” the shinobi at the door says. “Have a good night, Umino-kun.”

“Thank-you,” he mutters.

Shiori waits barely another minute before putting the gag back in Iruka’s mouth and raising the cane again; but he only gets one more strike in, Iruka’s muffled cry echoing in the studio apartment one last time, before the door is kicked in. The ANBU from earlier today stands in the doorway—the one who had picked him up from the scene of his prank and brought him before Sandaime, and who thought he was stealthily following him home but was stupidly obvious.

The three genin try to escape through the window, but they had carefully closed it earlier and aren’t smart enough to break the glass to get away. The ANBU closes the distance easily, performing non-lethal blows and knocking Kaoru and Hiro out; and then when Shiori realizes that he’s outclassed, he tries pulling his kunai back out to threaten Iruka, but the ANBU flickers across the studio and disarms him, first, then knocks him out.

With his attackers unconscious, Iruka’s sobs turn from pained to relieved.

The ANBU stands before him and cuts the chakra wire holding his wrists together above his head. His back aches and he cries out as they ease his shoulders down; he grits his teeth and cuts off the cry, muttering, “Hurts.” He leans into the ANBU chest plate and sniffles.

“Do you need medical assistance?”

Iruka looks up at the voice and, finally, recognizes the mask—Hound. And he’s familiar with the mask, and who’s under the mask; they were friends, once, weren’t they?

“Kaka—”

“Hound,” Kakashi mutters. “In the mask, it’s Hound. Do you need medical assistance?”

Iruka nods, leaning against his friend from long ago. His armor is cold; refreshing against the feverish heat of Iruka’s chest. Kakashi holds him, his gloved hands gently prodding at his back where there aren’t marks. A growl rumbles against Iruka’s temple.

Kakashi seethes above him, and Iruka tries unsuccessfully to tune it out. “In the village, no less. You should have been safe…” Behind his back, Hound makes a series of seals and says, “Kuchiyose no Jutsu.”

Summoning smoke poofs around in the corner of his view, and then Hound says, “Bull, stand guard. Shiba, Akino, go to T&I and have a team come and collect these three. I’ll report later.”

“Why not—?”

“Iruka’s injured,” Hound murmurs. He holds Iruka still, and then turns and crouches down, reaching back for Iruka’s hands. Getting the idea, Iruka flushes, but settles himself over Kakashi’s back and wraps his arms around Kakashi’s neck, letting the older teen position them in a way he’ll be able to run without worrying about Iruka accidentally choking him. Then, he slips his hands under Iruka’s thighs, pulls them around his waist, and stands up. He carries Iruka on his back like he weighs nothing. Iruka hides his face in Kakashi’s neck. “I’m going to get him to the hospital first, then I’ll meet at T&I to debrief.”

“Kakashi—”

“Hound, Iruka,” he says. “Don’t worry. I’ve got you.” His voice deepens into a growl as he continues, “You won’t get hurt again, not on my watch.”

Iruka closes his eyes, finally feeling safe, and rests as Kakashi flickers them away.

#summerofwhump #summerofwhump27 #injured #bad things happen bingo #caning #umino iruka #hatake kakashi #my writing

[inlovewithfictionals]

Just Like Us, In A Way. (Jason Todd x Reader)

A/N: Yep, i’m writing for Jaybird. So I got this prompt from my friend and I was going to write it about Dick, but then I remember that Jason loves to read. So I thought this would fit more with Jason. Oh and there’s a spoiler for “The House of Hades” book, so if you want to read it, might wanna skip. Unless you’re fine with spoilers. And there’s a Harry Potter reference in this, so I’ll just let you know that ‘Y/H/H’ means ‘Your Hogwarts House’. Ok bye! Enjoy, loves!

Prompt: “What if you wrote about person B on the house, reading. And they’re in the middle of the feels, and then person A enters the room and was like ‘What’re you doing?’ Then person B explains and person A’s just like ‘that sounds like us’.”

Warnings: Fluff (it feels weird to write a fluff for Jason), a couple of curse words, a small drop of angst (and I meant really small).

Word Count: 1580

   It’s a calm night at Gotham. The night sky is pretty clear, a slight cold breeze in the air, not much noise outside nor inside Y/N’s and Jason’s apartment.

   Y/N is sitting on the couch alone, reading a book called ‘The House of Hades’ while munching on some potato chips. She was supposed to go on a patrol with Jason and the rest of the Batfam tonight, but because of last week’s event, she had to stay at home and rest.

   Basically, Bruce had told Dick, Jason, and Tim to go on a mission, while Damian and Y/N had to stay. Much to their dismay. Apparently, the mission was ‘dangerous’. Which is why Jason didn’t want her to come. “It’s too risky, Y/N.” he had said. As for Damian, he was sick but he still protested that his father didn’t allowed him to go. He finally gave up in the end, being too tired to argue.

   But Y/N? She didn’t gave up. Like the stubborn girl she is, she decided that she’s a big girl and that she can handle this ‘dangerous’ mission. Besides, maybe they need an extra help. And how bad can it be?

   Long story short, she ended up having a sprain on her left ankle, a bullet wound on her shoulder and a pissed off, overprotective boyfriend. Thus, she had to stay at home for a couple of weeks and rest.

   Now, here she is. On the couch, alone, emotionally invested in a book. As usual.

   Jason and Y/N both loves to read. Whether it’s about science, thriller, fantasy, or an old classical books, they’d read them. That’s kind of the reason why they clicked. It’s the similarities between them.

   Sometimes, they would read together before bed. Y/N’s head on Jason’s shoulder and his’ on top of her head, reading along. He’ll complain out loud if one of the characters did something stupid or embarrassing and he’ll comfort Y/N when she’s crying over a characters death. Or he’ll laugh at her for crying over a characters death.

   “He’s just a fictional character, doll.” Jason chuckled.

   “He’s much more than that and you fucking know it.” She cried.

   This time, she’s all alone. Therefore, no one can comment anything about her being emotional because of a book. Unfortunately for her, that didn’t last long.

   Y/N was too deep into the story when Jason arrived. He enters through the bedroom window, expecting to see her curled up on their bed, asleep. But confused when he sees no one in the room. He checked the bathroom, but no one was there as well. Taking his helmet and domino mask off, Jason starts to worry.

   I swear, if she goes on a patrol without me knowing-

   His thoughts was stopped once he saw Y/N on the couch, with blanket covering her shoulders, slightly shaking, and whimpering softly while muttering “oh my god, I love them.”

   Never mind, then.

   He peeked from the back of the couch to see that she’s reading a book. He forgets about his previous worried feeling and almost giggled on the sight of his girlfriend in the middle of what she often called “feels”.

   Jason takes off his gloves and shoes, and went closer to Y/N’s oblivious self. When he got closer, he looked at her from the behind the couch, right beside her left shoulder. “What are you reading?”

   Y/N was jumped. She screamed and on instinct, she hits him with the book. Jason falls back, groaning in pain. As soon as she heard him groan, she immediately realizes that it’s just Jason.

   “Jason! I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to smack you!” She exclaimed, while giving Jason a hand.

   “For a paperback, fuck, that kind of hurts.” He groaned, holding his forehead above his right eyebrow where she accidently hits him.

   “Well, next time, announce your arrival first, Todd.” Y/N laughed.

   Jason laughed, grabbing her hand and stands up. He jumps over and sitting beside Y/N that already has the blanket around her again.

   “So, how was patrol?” Y/N asks him while flipping the page.

   He shrugs, putting his head on her lap. “Not much happened. In fact,” he paused to laugh. “Your book-attack was the hardest hit I got tonight.”

   “Must’ve been a slow night then?”

   Jason hummed in agreement. “Hey, you haven’t answered my question. What’re you reading?” He asked again, looking at the cover.

   “The House of Hades.”

   “Rick Riordan?”

   “Yeah.” Y/N answered shortly, eyes are still on the book.

   “I thought the series was about demigod and stuff.” Jason said, his tone was a little confused but interested, in a way.

   “It is. Why?” She asked, suspicious. Jason smirked, looking at the ceiling.

   “Before you hit me, you were in the midst of ‘feels’. Emotionally attached to fictional characters again, Y/L/N?”

   Y/N groaned in annoyance before putting her bookmark and shutting the book. She hugs her book tightly as if she’s defending it and herself. “I can’t help it, Jason! They’re so perfect and I love them so much!” She whisper-yelled at him.

   “But what exactly happened, though? Cliché stuff and all that or…?” Jason chuckled.

   Despite him acting like he was only making fun of her, he was actually curious to what happened. He loves listening to her rambling about the story on and on. Sure, sometimes she spoiled the story for him. But sometimes, he didn’t mind.

   “Well, two of the main characters, which just so happens to be my OTP, falls into Tartarus. Also known by mortals as Hell. That happens because one of them didn’t want to let go when the other falls and in results, both of them falls.” Y/N stopped to take a deep breath as she placed the book on the coffee table.

   “And now they’re suffering on this hellhole, surrounded by monsters. Each second there could kill them and they have to find a way out. While doing so, they fight through hell, literal hell, alongside of each other. No matter how tough things gets, they don’t leave each other and I just got so emotional by this. So, no, it’s technically not a cliché thing.”

   Y/N’s eyes was glossy the moment she finished, but she managed to let out a small chuckle. She’s sad, angry at the author for putting these characters into this situation, and last but not least, she felt embarrassed. Even she herself thinks that it’s quite embarrassing to cry over a fictional story.

   She covers her face with her hands as she cries softly. Jason who was now laughing, sat up and embrace her tightly. He’s careful not to hurt her ankle or her shoulder. When he calmed down, he removed her hands from her face, and wiped her tears away.

   “Hey, it’s okay. They’re two of the main characters, after all. I’m sure they would be fine.” Though Jason, also being someone who loves to read, knows that not all main characters on any kind of story, survived. He of all people would know that.

   “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.” She noted, her voice still shaking. However, her voice was laced with a hint of playfulness.

   “You are correct, TEN POINTS FOR Y/H/H!” He playfully announced, still holding her on his arms.  She started to cackle at him.

   “You know, these people are just like us, in a way.”

   “Really?” Y/N questioned him. She had calmed down from her emotional state.

   “Yeah. I mean, we also suffered on a hellhole called ‘real world’ and we always fight together. No matter what.” Jason smiled, giving her a kiss on the temple.

   “And we would, stupidly, hurt ourselves for each other.” He says while glancing at her and her injuries, back and forth.

   “Oh you mean…” she lifts her ankle, wincing slightly. “…this?”

   Jason sighed, his face full of concern and signs of protectiveness. “You shouldn’t have attacked that goon. Look where that put you.”

   “The guy was about to attack you. I couldn’t let that happen.” She told him.

   “I could handle him, that way you wouldn’t be the one getting hurt. It should’ve been me!” Jason argued.

   “Jason, it’s just a sprain and a bullet wound. I’m fine. The point is that you and I are alive, and that’s what matters.” Y/N puts her hands on his cheek and gave him a reassuring smile. A smile that could calm anyone down. A smile that he absolutely adores.

   Jason smiled back, giving her a quick peck on the lips before placing his nose on hers. “How did I find myself a girl that could be so reckless on a mission and yet cried over a book?”

   “You’ve found yourself a treasure, babe. Don’t waste it.” Y/N smirked.

   “Don’t worry, I won’t.” He placed a passionate kiss on her lips.

   They stayed like that for a few more seconds before they pull apart. Y/N puts her head on top of his chest and sighed calmly. The room was filled with a comfortable silence, until Jason broke it.

   “So, are we going to read that book tonight?” He says, referring to the book she was reading.

   “It’s the fourth book on the series. You sure you won’t mind?”

   Jason thought about it for a moment and then he just shrugs. “I don’t mind.”

   Y/N tidy up the living room first before grabbing the book and her blanket and went to the bedroom, with Jason trailing behind.

   “Jason, you might want to change your outfit first.”

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd imagine #batfam x reader #dc #jason todd fluff #fanfic #x reader #red hood x reader #red hood imagine #red hood x you #red hood x y/n

[jimlingss]

The Colour of Our Voices [13]

Chapter 12 - Chapter 13 - Chapter 13.5 OR Chapter 14

➜ Words: 2.6k

➜ Genres: 98% Fluff, 2% Angst, Slice of Life, Broadway!AU

➜ Summary: He wasn’t supposed to hear. He wasn't supposed to know. But the instant Jimin came into your life and pulled the curtains back, you couldn't hide backstage anymore. You were no longer merely a phantom of the opera.

cr.

The day has finally arrived.   After two months of ruthless rehearsals, the tension is still running high. Everyone is experiencing their own stresses, especially considering that it’s the first showing of an original production.   The director still remains friendly, but he forces a smile when he greets the crew. Taehyung’s hand is permanently glued onto his coffee mug handle. The producers and writers are always sprinting past with their hair in disarray. Even you and Jimin are beginning to feel the pressure.   “One, two, three. One, two, three…” — “Point your toes! Your arms need to be higher!”   You look away from the script to the small stage. And right at that moment, Yeonjeon slips.   She stumbles onto the ground and cusses underneath her breath, brows furrowed hard enough to hurt. The choreographer sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Wrong. Wrong.” She waves her hand and the music in the background stops. “How do you not have it down?! The performance is in three days! You were doing it perfectly well last week?! What’s wrong with you, Yeonjeon?”   The actress wears a defeated expression, she opens her mouth before closing it, not able to come up with an excuse. But you walk over anyhow, quickening your steps. “She hasn’t slept,” you defend her, eyes pleading. “That’s why.”   You crouch down to help her up. Yeonjeon glares, but doesn’t refuse your hand, though it’s futile. She stumbles as she tries to rise, leaning her weight on you before falling back onto the ground again.   The choreographer exhales and nods. “Go get some rest then and be ready for tomorrow. If you wear yourself down so early, you won’t be able to perform at all.”   She walks away and Yeonjeon pouts at you.   Soon after, the two of you are backstage in a corner. Her ankle is in your lap and you wrap it carefully with white bandages. “How’d you know I didn’t sleep?” Yeonjeon childishly sulks at you, her eyes pointed, but you don’t feel as intimidated as she intends you to feel.   “I heard you mention it. Not intentionally.” You rush to say, “I wasn’t eavesdropping.”   The female scoffs, twisting her features and ruining her own beauty. “Why are you helping me, huh? Do you even know what I did to you?!”   She’s trying to get you as upset as she feels, and it’s amusing. In many ways, Yeonjeon reminds you of yourself. You wonder if this is what Jimin felt. “Doesn’t matter.”   “You’re an idiot,” she spits. “You’re supposed to hate me.”   “Hating people is tiresome.” You finish up before pressing a pack of ice to her ankle. She hisses at the coldness. “You should lay off that ankle for a while. Hopefully the swelling will go down, but if doesn’t, go see a doctor.”   “I know how to take care of myself, idiot,” Yeonjeon huffs, pushing your hands off of her to hold the ice herself. “Your kindness is irritating, you know that? I tried to steal your boyfriend,” she confesses out of the blue, itching to see you riled up.    But you don’t give it to her.   You simply stare with a blank expression.   She rolls her tongue in her cheek, waiting. But it never comes.   Yeonjeon gives up, and mutters with a downcast head, “But you don’t need to worry. He rejected my advances like I was gonna kill him. Your fucking boyfriend’s stupidly loyal, so you deserve each other. Idiots.”   You burst out laughing.   She becomes even more furious. “What?! You think this is funny to you?!”   “No.” You smile at her. “You just sort of remind me of someone.”   “Who?”   “Me. I was jealous once and I grew to hate that person, so I understand where you’re coming from. I’ll try my best not to be overbearing and to get out of your way.”   “I’m not jealous!” Yeonjeon scoffs again. “The more you talk, the more I hate you. Has anyone ever told you that your sincerity is sickening? I feel like throwing up. God, you and Park really do deserve each other. It’s disgusting.”   You’re unable to resist the grin that forms on your face and that only makes the female pout harder.

For the sake of peace, you try to get out of Yeonjeon’s way.    But she’s the one who approaches you. Her arms are crossed, eyes diverted elsewhere, but she mumbles about how if you want her to hate you less, you’d give her Kim Seokjin’s number. Unfortunately, you have no such thing, and she calls you useless before dragging you over to the lobby, waiting for him to come out of his usual rehearsals.   The Phantom production might be going down the drain, but Jin’s face certainly isn’t.   While you’d usually admire that godly man from afar like many others, this time you watch as Yeonjeon horrifyingly approaches him. Of course he rejects her, but then you get the chance to witness her stick up her middle fingers and sing a string of cusses to him.   Her psychoticness cements an unlikely friendship with you.   “Wait, we aren’t going out tonight?”   “I’m going to a movie premiere with Yeonjeon.” You shrug, moving past Jimin. “Apparently she knows one of the actors who talked badly about her to people and she wants to curse him out for it. She also wants to network with the producers there.”   “How is that going to work out for her?” Jimin asks, confused at the contradicting plans.   You giggle. “You tell me.”   Jimin sulks and slinks up from behind. He wraps his arms around your waist, propping his chin on your shoulder. “You’re spending so much time with her lately, what about me, huh?”   You turn around to face him with his arms still encircling you. “Jealous?”   “Yes,” he shamelessly admits. “All I want is to spend a little time with my girlfriend.”   “We ate lunch together.”   “Yeah, but I can’t talk when I’m trying to chew.”   “You see me every night.”   “Oh, I do a little more than seeing.” Jimin wiggles his brows and you lightly hit him in the chest, causing laughter to squeeze out of him. “Plus, why are you spending time with Yeonjeon of all people? She’s so cold to me now — she doesn’t even look twice at me anymore or even acknowledge my existence. She’s only friendly during the actual performance.”   “Why?” Your brow cocks and you quirk your head to one side. “You want her to flirt with you again?”   “That’s not what I’m saying,” the brunette whines. “How’d you get on her good side?”   “I can’t help that I’m just lovable.” You leave his arms, walking towards the bedroom to get changed.   Jimin follows and leans against the door frame with a grin. “Well, you’re not wrong about that.”   //   Practice ensues relentlessly.   And much to Taehyung’s dismay, the director becomes more hysterical. “And once you reach this part of the stage, everyone raise your arms? Yes, yes!”    “More passion! Louder! More grand gestures! More!” — “Can we get the spotlight right here?” — “I thought the prop was bigger than this! Where’s the bigger size?! We need bigger and better!”   “Oh my god,” Taehyung often groans, and while you try to help him, he always refuses and cites that if you did his job better then he’d get fired.   From dancing to singing, every detail is nitpicked and polished. “Sing with it as ‘ae’ instead of ‘ah’” — “Elbows out please!” — “Let’s do three twirls instead of four.”   But soon enough, dress rehearsal comes and you can’t believe it’s actually time.    “This is it, everyone. Last chance to ask or fix anything!”   Months of practice has led up to this point — your entire life and career thus far, what you’ve worked so hard for, what you aspired, it’s arrived. You’re excited as you are nervous, and mostly overwhelmed. But with Jimin here, you have the bravery to face the audience, to stand in the spotlight, and hear their applause.   The curtains rise in the same auditorium where you sat months ago to watch Jimin perform. Now that seat is taken by someone else and you’re on the stage. The stage that’s ready for you.   The lights dim. Slow music begins to play. You’re the first to enter the scene, treading through the thick fog on the ground. The right side of the stage is dimly illuminated and you stumble into the spotlight while looking off to the top of the stairs where a young brunette once stood.    Something begins to dust down to you. You’re equally amazed and horrified.    It nips at your nose and your brows furrow. “What’s going on?”   Your voice echoes throughout the audience and you hold your hand out. Snow begins to fall and you run off after a gasp. At the same time, the townspeople begin to flood in, marching through the blizzard with the first song.   The show continues with Jimin and Yeonjeon falling in love, how you’re forced to watch from afar until you try to break apart their relationship.   “There may be no sunshine or daytime, or flowers or warmth, but there’s you.”   “There’s you,” Jimin sings back to you, tone warm.   “There’s us,” you harmonize together. Loudly and clearly, facing one another with shared smiles that are all too real. “There’s us, together in this snowfield, together in this cold winter.”   The story progresses with how Winter forces the Summer fantasy to shatter, how Jimin comes to terms with the new world around him before succumbing to his love and refusing the truth.   “Eugene. What are you doing here?” Yeonjeon twirls around, the fabric of her dress moving with her. She exhales shakingly, both surprised and relieved. “I thought they told you to stay away from me.”   They meet one another halfway and he looks down at her. “Do you think I could’ve?”   “There’s no point.” Yeonjeon shakes her head and turns around. “I’m leaving.”   “Let me come with you.” He grabs her arm, stopping her before she can flee from him. He pulls her closer to him.   “I can’t. I’m running away. Running away from this winter.”   “Where to?”   “Beyond the sunrise and sunset, where summer still exists,”   “Do you think summer exists there?” Jimin asks, entranced by the mere idea.   “There has to be.” Their eyes meet and the orchestra pulls its strings, filling the auditorium with a wondrous and light melody.   Yeonjeon parts her lips, inhaling a breath. “You’ve come to save me.”   “I’ve come to love you.” He sings to her and they hold onto each other.   There are others dancing in the background and Jimin spins her around gently, the two of them sharing an intimate dance. The audience is mesmerized, breaths held as they watch.   “No love is better than ours,” they sing, voices melting together. “A rose-coloured world.”   The song ends with them gazing at each other and then sharing a soft kiss of longing.   “Why can’t you listen to me?!” you shout, closing the distance through three wide strides. “You will die if you leave. There is nothing beyond the horizons. Nothing! You will die!”   Jimin’s eyes are glossed over and he’s staring over your head with a dreamy expression, tiny smile gracing his lips. “Do you see that?”   “See what?” You glance over your shoulder before looking back at him. “There’s nothing there.”   “No…” Jimin walks off, entirely captivated like he’s under a spell. “It’s dandelion seeds floating in the sky. I can see it. It’s so pretty.”   “It’s winter,” you reason with your frustration increasing. “There aren’t any dandelions.”   But he walks off anyhow. You run after him, calling him at the top of your lungs.   The intermission of the show allows a fifteen minute break where you race to the bathroom and then psych yourself up for the last stretch of the performance. And you mimic what you’ve prepared, conveying emotions to the best of your abilities, allowing spite to take over you. Your character brews a storm to unleash, a storm of winter to both the past and the present.    But your lies inadvertently drives Jimin farther away, and in the end, you sacrifice yourself to save him — something the main female character takes credit for. The pair of them eventually run away together with dazed expressions, but happy nonetheless.   During the grand finale with all the storylines wrapped up and with the entire cast singing the last song, everyone comes onto the stage again. Jimin finds you and holds your hand, exchanging smiles and laughter as confetti strips blast and surrounding you both in a mosaic of vivid hues. You stand beside one another, facing the bright spotlight that doesn’t seem so frightening anymore.   And the audience rises together, giving a standing ovation. The applause roars throughout the auditorium, and you bow, waving goodbye. It could not be a better Broadway debut.

“Min Yoonji just released her review.”   “Really?” You hop up on the bed, leaning over to his phone screen. “What does it say?”   “The production of When Summer Meets Winter, albeit new and still in its infancy of development, is both surprisingly lively and very entertaining….” Jimin reads, voice trailing off.   “Does it really say that?!” You’re shocked, but a grin spreads across your face.   “While the romantic storyline is sustained through the main male lead and main female lead, Eugene and Sana respectively, it is certainly most felt through the main male lead and the female villain.”   He exchanges a look with you and smiles. Jimin can’t resist, so he throws his phone down and kisses you instead. He tackles you to the mattress, pinning you on your back, but you manage to squirm away, slipping out of his grasps. You grab the phone to continue reading.   “The production overall is a happy story for the indulgence of hopeless romantics, but it is undeniable that there is an underlying tragedy that will pull at the heartstrings of even those who don’t care for romance,” you read out loud, voice cracking and stuttering. “I would go as far as to argue that the story’s central focus was not on the primary protagonists but the female antagonist who successfully displayed a variety of emotions on stage.”   You’re sniffling, about to burst into tears. A thick, painful lump forms in your throat.   Jimin takes the phone with a laugh and moves a few paragraphs down, skipping the commentary of costumes of musical choices, continuing for you. “The production of When Summer Meets Winter is phenomenal in spite of being an original that still needs work and development. Looks like people on Broadway still know how it needs to be done.”   Finally, he’s able to toss his phone to the side, and he cheers. “It’s a stellar hit! We’re going to make so much money!”   “I thought Min Yoonji hated me!”

“Why?” He grins mischievously, nosing your cheek. “Didn’t she defend you in her other article?”   “She made me lose my job.” You pout even though you full well know it was a blessing in disguise.    “Should I go beat her up then?” Jimin’s eyes twinkle, causing you to burst out into giggles.   “I’m pretty sure you would lose. She looks pretty tough.”   “Hey, I’m tough too,” your boyfriend argues, but you shift to sit up on him, straddling his hips. Jimin breathing becomes shallow, watching you, and you squish his cheeks in one hand.   “You seem pretty soft to me,” you playfully quip. Jimin scoffs and pulls you down for a hug, letting you lay right on top of him. He snuggles into you. “How does it feel to be famous now?”   He sighs softly with a smile. “Amazing. But mainly because you’re here.”

#bts fanfic #bts scenario #jimin fanfic #jimin scenario #jimin fluff #bts reader insert #bts x reader #bts fanfiction #bts fanfictions #this is a shorter chapter #somewhat of a filler but one that needs to be done #to transition into following events :D

[heli0s-writes]

I. What's in a name (that which we call a Bucky)

Summary: What kind of name is BUCKY? Your dog's name is BUCKEYE. Much better. Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes A/N: A more humorous work... be alert: everyone in this fic is a lil shit. Dog-lover reader. Enemies to friends to lovers and strap in kiddos, we’re going to Ohio!

Foot in Mouth Syndrome Masterpost

It’s past midnight when the bell on your doorknob titters. A high-pitched whine follows the noise and you drop the book in your hand before emitting a loud groan of annoyance. As a response to your complaint, footsteps quickly pad back towards the computer room you sit in.

“God damn it,” you scold towards the door, “I just took you out like an hour ago.”

It’s half-serious, half-playful as you point a finger towards the 50-pound mass of pure muscle now pitifully cocking his head to the side. Your dog, Buckeye, lovingly named after your alma-mater’s mascot whines pathetically as he falls forward onto his two front paws and gives you the saddest look he can muster. The slate-grey skin between his eyes bends upwards in crinkly folds as he continues to peer at your perched figure on the swivel chair.

You shuffle your desk space around, placing the heavy tome from your hand over the mountain of other paperbacks scattered about. Taking one final look over the paper you’d been working on for the last two weeks, you hit save, making sure it uploads itself to the online drive before stepping away.

The clock on the lower right-hand corner of your monitor reads 2:30. Fuck. Way more than past midnight. You had been so focused on writing you didn’t even realize how late it was. Sending an apologetic look to your dog, you rub his ear before heading down the hallway and grabbing the leash by the door. Poor guy, you hadn’t taken him out in almost four hours.

He’s striding towards you, tail wagging back and forth at the sight of your hand on the leash. His tongue flops out stupidly and you giggle at how dumb he looks. Before clipping the leash to his collar, you give him a big kiss on the head and push your face affectionately. He’d come such a long way in the past five months.

“Okay, big baby. Let’s go.”

The training bell hanging from the knob flails against the door as you step outside, closing it shut.

You and Buckeye head downstairs, your slippers squishing against the wet grass as he leads you over to his favorite sniffing grounds. Under the lamp, you scroll on your phone distractedly, making sure you’d replied to all the e-mails you had received earlier in the day. Eyeing him from time to time to make sure he’s doing what he’s supposed to, you tap out a quick response to a group message from some classmates. They’re probably awake at this time anyway, you muse bitterly, graduate school can be a real bitch like that. Tucking the phone into your back pocket, you fiddle a doggy bag from its container strapped to the leash and maneuver it over your hand.

“No sniffing that poo.” You command Buckeye, and he gazes back over his shoulder at you for a single brief second, as if truly contemplating your authority before giving it a quick whiff anyway. You scoff before tugging him from the pile and further back into the grass. “C’mon, Buck. Dude, I gotta get back in. Please poop. The bag’s ready for you.”

You wave it around helplessly as he traipses on, keeping close, but really pushing your patience. Ten minutes later, you decide you’ve had it with him and start tugging him back towards the sidewalk. He resists at first and you have to use your “mom” voice a couple of times before he follows your lead and drags himself back to your side.

This was the usual routine of your life: wake up, go to campus, work on campus, work from home, find time to eat, work some more, go to bed. In-between all of those activities was of course, take Buckeye outside to jog, pee, shit, and socialize… when he was up for it.

You “adopted” the big lug from the shelter six months ago, falling head over heels for that stupid white oblong patch (you called it his Penis Patch because c’mon… it looked like one) and that wrinkly-ass forehead of his. He had been abused as a puppy and then abandoned in an alleyway with a handful of other pit bulls. By the time he got to the animal shelter, he was massively underweight and terrified of being near humans. He was only two months old. It took a lot of work on your end to get him back to a normal weight and as much as people loved to praise how you “saved” him- it was honestly the opposite that happened.

Yes. It was cheesy and gross as fuck to admit out loud, but that dumb animal actually saved you.

If you hadn’t adopted him and decided he was going to be your tether to this fuck-ass world, you were cock-sure you’d have tied yourself a noose out of bedsheets already. It’s what you told your therapist because it was just the damn truth.

The spring air of Manhattan whips over your face as you make your way towards the stairs of your unit, taking glances here and there to make sure nothing scary was happening. Your location was relatively safe, but honestly, you never know with people. You had seen your fair share of frightening and inexplicable things from your time in New York.

As if you were summoning the bad luck to your doorstep, gunshots ring out from a few blocks away. At least you hope it is, because the echo throughout your apartment unit suggests that it’s much closer. Buckeye starts twitching, darting left and right at the sound. You’re steeling your body as he begins to pull and snap at him with your fingers, calling his name. He heads quickly towards the apartment. Another shot resonates between the buildings.

On your right, Buckeye lets out a high-pitched yelp and jumps as rapid footsteps approach behind you. You barely make it two steps out of the way before a heavy body barrels into you and knocks you onto the sidewalk. Both your knees hit the concrete hard and you immediately roll to your side and fumble to find the leash that fell from hand. Your dog is losing it, and frankly, you are about to as well.

He starts to take off towards the darkness of the grass and you’re screaming his name, trying to scramble up to catch the plastic handle of the retractable leash that’s dragging against the ground. His tongue is loose and panting as he whips his head back and forth between you and the darkness, unsure of where to go.

“Come here! Come!”

You ignore the searing in your kneecaps and reach out as you take a step. Before you can make it much farther, an arm swings itself over your neck and strangles the rest of your words.

A single shot fires off at your dog. Buckeye is outta there. He’s yelping the whole way and you cannot stop yourself from shrieking.

“Don’t fucking speak.” A voice growls behind you. The body it belongs to is distinctly masculine as they knee you in the back and prop you up to stand beside them. The cold barrel of a gun presses itself against your temple and you freeze, hands quivering at your sides. Your heart has either imploded or is about to because you can’t tell if it’s beating or not anymore. There is ringing in your ears from the gun being fired in such close quarters, your eyes struggle to focus.

You have so many questions, but your mind is currently a squirrel in traffic running between the front axle of two tires labelled: “Is this where I fucking die?” and “Is my dog okay?”. Getting splattered to bits by either one was dealer’s choice, and your dealer didn’t seem too choosy.

In the distance, footsteps approach and you see two large frames enter your blurry field of vision, lit up under the streetlamp. There are two glimmering silver shapes reflecting that flickering light, one in the shape of a … dinner plate? And the other… another dick. What the hell? Oh god, you think automatically about your dick-spot-shaped dog. Where is he?

“Let her go!” the dinner plate yells. The barrel presses further into your head.

“Drop your weapons!” your assailant calls back, “Or she dies!”

You’re in a bad procedural cop show or something, you swear. Or Ashton Kutcher is 50 years old and he is laughing his ass off in a van right now, filming a new season of Punk’d. You squeeze your eyes shut when the gun clicks against your head, which is generally right after it goes off, according to the movies. There’s a warm sensation against your back and you hope to god that it isn’t you pissing yourself. When you smell the coppery scent rising, you realize it’s the man’s blood. When he sways a little and your body droops with him, you are positive it’s his blood.

The funny silver California/dick shape in the distance moves and becomes a small circle, with a dark spot in the middle. Is that a fucking gun? You blink a couple of times to see the shadowy outlines of the two people stepping closer. There’s aggravated whispering from both of them and your attacker begins to yell about something before a deafening blast cracks past your eyes.

Warm blood sprays on your face when the man falls backwards, heavy limb taking you down with him. You get some of it in your mouth and you scramble to fuck off as far as you can from this now dead body. The two shapes are running towards you, one of them gripping you hard by the arm and pulling you up.

“Buckeye! That is not protocol!”

You dizzily shake your head at the sound of your dog’s name and find your balance on the sidewalk, toes pressing against your slipper to have it back on your foot correctly. In front of you were two enormous men, and you recognize them immediately: Captain America and Winter Soldier.

“You know I don’t miss.” The Soldier retorts, bottom half of his face obscured by his signature black latex mask. It muffles his voice, but you can clearly hear the agitation. Captain America looks over your dripping red knees. “You okay, ma’am?”

You ignore him. As far as you are concerned at this point, they’re both just as dead to you as this other fucker on the ground. You want to find your dog.

“Buck?” You call into the patch of darkness as you carefully tread into the grass, wincing when your knees sting with every step. You don’t see the two Avengers looking at each other in confusion.

“BUCK!” You scream again, panic returning to your chest as you think about your dog scurrying around in the dark, dragging his damn leash, and spiraling back into the hot mess he was six months ago. Damn it, it had taken you so long to train him out of being skittish, and now he was going to be right back in it. You look around the dark, turning the flashlight on your phone and follow what looks like to be a trail of blood. It’s not yours, so you correctly deduce it’s Buckeye.

You start to hyperventilate, shaking with every step.

“Oh, Buck, you piece of shit you, I swear to god, if you’re dead, I’m going to kill you.”

“…Ma’am?”

You whip around and glare at Captain America, “What!” He takes a step back, hands coming up as if to deflect your outcry. His partner next to him places his gun back in the holster at his hip with a quiet click, eyeing you suspiciously. Captain America looks around, like he’s surprised you’ve yelled, because he probably doesn’t get yelled at very often by people he saves.

“…Can I ask what you’re doing?”

“Th’ broad’s mental.” The Soldier scoffs, heading back towards the limp body on the ground. He digs his hands into every pocket of the corpse, even opening the mouth to peer inside. “We need to move this body.” He pulls out a tiny USB from a sewn-on pocket inside the vest and puts it in a pouch on his belt.

“I’m looking for my damn dog.” You hurl, “I’m looking for my fucked-up rescue dog, who was doing very well and on his way to being a proper good boy, before you fucks came along and shot him!”

You hear yourself being more and more hysterical with every syllable. Your pitch is increasing with your heart rate, and the part of you that fears retribution from super soldiers is raising its hand up to be called on by your dominant lizard-brain. Your lizard-brain is soaked in fear and refuses the hand.

“That guy shot your dog.” The Soldier nudges the body with a steel-toed boot.

“You scared him! He’s afraid of loud noises and you were shooting up the place, you trigger-happy motherfucker,” you point a finger to the offending Avenger, “You could have shot me, you bag of limp dicks.”

Winter Soldier lets your insults slide; you’re definitely off your meds, he thinks. “Like I said, I don’t miss.”

Captain America finally snaps his shield back onto his back and runs a hand through his hair. You’re half surprised he’s not wearing that dorky-ass helmet he’s usually sporting but turn around regardless and start walking faster, ignoring the muddier ground the further you go in. From the position next to the soon-to-be chalk outline, the two Avengers argue quietly before one of them groans and they both fall silent. You figure they’ve kissed and made up.

Grass is shuffling behind you as Captain America effortlessly catches up to your uneven steps.

“I can track your dog. Let me help.”

You say nothing because you’re so preoccupied with being pissed off that this happened in the first place and because you honestly couldn’t refuse the help regardless of how overinflated your pride was. You couldn’t see for shit in the dark and you’d rather have Buckeye back than any amount of satisfaction flinging insults could bring. Stepping back, you let Brown-Beard take the lead and follow him through the mud and into the back of a unit now five buildings away.

When you slip on a particularly wet patch, he’s quick to grab your elbow and support you. He also takes it as an opening to make conversation.

“What’s type of dog is…”

“Buckeye.” You say, pulling your elbow away and falling back into step. He turns around and raises a single eyebrow.

“Buck…eye?” The second syllable is dropped low- as if he’s unsure that it’s the right thing to say.

“….Yes. Buckeye.” You hiss back.

“Buck…eye.” He repeats again, moving the sounds around in his mouth carefully. You pull a face but say nothing. Boy they sure like to make ‘em big and dumb, don’t they?

“He’s a pit bull. He’s gray with a white patch on his chest. He’s not fucking lethal or anything- like people think he’s just… damaged. He’s not even full-grown; just an oversized ball of anxiety and post-traumatic stress.” Your voice becomes distressed the more you talk about your good boy, and you decide to shut up before you can burst into tears.

“We’ll find him, promise.” Captain tries to send you a smile, but it gets misplaced in the thick of his beard and you’re not even looking anyway, pretending to follow the trail so he doesn’t see your eyes well up. You’re thankful for his help. But fuck him still; he scared your dog.

“There’s no more blood, which is good,” He says, “Steps are getting closer together, so he’s not running anymore. There’s a funny… thing- though. What’s he dragging?”

“His leash.” You mutter.

“Ah.” There’s a pause, “You know, that’s actually a good thing- it’ll slow him down.”

 It’s at least another twenty minutes of walking in silence as you follow Captain Star Spangled Banner out of your apartment complex and down three completely decrepit alleyways, at least one littered with broken glass. Upon entering the fourth one, you swear you hear clattering in the back and pick up your speed, calling out.

“Buck? Buckeye? Is that you?” Your voice is quivering in the dark. Your companion has stilled beside you, not letting his footsteps drown out your voice. “Buckeye, come here.” You’re as careful as can be as you quietly step forward, a tiny bit closer to the slow shadow in the corner.

When a car drives by on the main road, the shine of headlights reflects two glowing blue pearls that you’d recognize anywhere. His tail is wagging happily against the pavement of the alleyway, and it breaks your heart to see he’s battered in blood.

You put both your arms around him to settle him from possibly scurrying away at the sight of Captain’s figure, who hangs in the back, but is still so large that it disturbs Buckeye. “My big guy,” You sob into his stupid, dirty neck, “You’re all muddy... Oh Buck, you big idiot… you dummy.”

You find the handle on the leash again, but Buckeye is tentative to follow, stumbling when he stands up on all four feet. When you lean over to examine him, he’s all cut up on his paws and you see it now, the big streak of open flesh on his upper thigh that’s crusted over into a brown stripe. The shiny fur that’s beneath it is matted with more dried blood and it’s so large that you break out into tears all over again. You don’t think he’s able to walk anymore, which might have worked out in your favor; it did stop him from running.

Captain slowly makes his way toward the two of you and reach both hands out, kneeling and laying one gently underneath Buckeye’s snout to scratch him. Your dog inspects the hand nervously before giving it a quick lick. He pants happily at the scratch to his chin and you can’t help but snort at his simplicity. Captain offers to pick him up for you and you let him, surprised that Buck’s letting someone other than you be so close. You’re glad for it, though, since you would not have been able to pick him up out of the alleyway on your own.

“I’ve been compared to a Golden Retriever before,” Captain says amiably as he easily holds Buckeye in his arms, leading you out of the dark path. He’s got a glint in his eye like he’s real proud of himself for that quip. “I definitely think of myself as a dog person.”

You scoff and save your retort for another time, pointing him in the direction of your local pet emergency hospital instead.

-

It must have been a sight for them, Steve ponders as he sits in the waiting chair of the hospital, giving away smiles at the receptionists and nurses who occasionally gather to stare at him. When the automatic doors slid open, they probably weren’t expecting Captain America in full tactical gear to walk in with a dog in his arms. Not to mention the young woman who followed, looking in not much better shape than the dog.

He glances over to you as you lean back in the plastic chair resembling more of a bucket than anything comfortable. Both your knees are completely skinned raw and the trail of blood reached your feet, caked in mud. The woman at the front desk offered you some bandages and antiseptic, which you’d haphazardly sloshed all over yourself before resigning to let it be. Your eyes have slipped closed as you wait for the nurse to come talk to you about your dog; it is late, after all—nearly four in the morning, and Steve lets you rest when he hears your breathing slow.

He begins to check his phone, punching in a text to Bucky with updates, barely able to hold back the giddy energy inside of him. Bucky was going to flip when Steve cracks open the can of worms that is the dog’s name. And it’s going to completely boil his noodle when he hears that your description of your dog almost perfectly matched Steve’s own description of Bucky. He swears right now, under these old fluorescent lights and with God’s blessing that he would never, ever, let Bucky live this down.

“You… use…a … flip… phone?” Your disbelieving voice is so quiet that Steve thinks a ghost is making fun of him.

“Well, it does flip, and it is a phone.” He retorts, face completely blank for a couple of seconds before breaking out into a smirk.

Your sit up in the chair, looking over to Steve incredulously. “Who are you, my dad?” Your features twist into a disgusted sneer, but he catches the amusement in your eyes.

He chuckles in response. It’s not the first time Steve’s been told that his jokes were corny, at this point in his life, he’s decided to just go with it.

“Don’t you have someplace to be? Maybe more Avenging in another quiet neighborhood?” The snark comes out sharper than you intend it, but between the two hours of sleep last night and probable zero hours of sleep you’ll get tonight, you’re on autopilot.

“It’s being taken care of.” He stares straight ahead. Your comment implies that you’d rather him leave, but he feels in part responsible and obligated to stay. Besides, you’ll need a ride home and someone to carry your pet to the door. “I’m sorry about your dog.”

“He’s not fucking dead,” You huff, “If he was, you and Bicentennial Man would be fucked. You won’t believe how many knives I can carry in my mouth alone.”

Steve almost gives himself whiplash as he does a double-take on your completely placid and unfazed profile view. He thinks it’s better not to ask about the capacity of knives your mouth can hold or about how you know that very specific fact about yourself. However, he can’t help from letting out a wheeze of a laugh because the feral image frankly reminds him more and more of Bucky; Steve has definitely seen Bucky with a knife in his mouth.

Another fifteen minutes pass of drifting in and out of sleep before the nurse peeks her head out and calls you into the treatment room. She stares open-mouthed when Steve followed dutifully behind and closes the door with a quiet click.

Buckeye is lying in a lethargic daze on the table with a plastic cone around his neck. The large gash on his leg has been stitched and carefully covered by gauze and his paws are bandaged up as well. At the sight of the two of you, his tail begins to pat slowly against the smooth surface of the table in quick taps before trailing off and starting back up again. He is looking into your eyes, but Steve can see his gaze wander around the room in a medicated stupor from time to time.  

His stomach tightens when you begin to sniffle and draw lazy circles on Buckeye’s head with your thumb. The nurse runs over the health diagnostic for your pup and all seems pretty well, considering the doleful state he’s in.

“He might not eat for the first day, but you’ll have to try to make him...” The nurse hands you a large zip-loc full of bandages, ointments, pills, and paper. “Keep the cone on for at least two weeks and stick to the dosage schedule… Do you have any questions?”

You shake your head, rifling through the various items in the bag before zipping it back up.

“Okay. Well, he’s doing really good, and I think he’ll make a speedy recovery soon.” The nurse offers you a smile and you reply kindly, thanking her for everything before sighing at Buckeye. Steve steps forward in the silent moment and scoops your dog’s tired body into his arms before thanking the nurse as well. She goes white as a sheet when you open the door to let him out. Steve hopes there won’t be any tweets later about Captain America saving puppies.

 At the front desk, Steve watches you shuffle side to side when the receptionist rings up each cost. Dressed in an oversized Ohio shirt and pajama shorts, it’s obvious you are not prepared for this. You were probably just a college student, and since he didn’t see you make any phone calls to your parents or family members who might foot the bill, he assumes you’re on your own. Before the receptionist can hand you anything, Steve shifts and tilts his right leg forward.

“Can you reach into this pocket?” He asks, startling everyone in the vicinity: you, the receptionist, and your dog. You stare at him dumbly for a minute, grimacing at the leg pointed in your direction and the back-and-forth Captain America’s eyes keep sending you. It goes from your face to his pocket and every time it returns to your face your frown drops more.

“What?”

“For my wallet.”

“Fuck no!”

“C’mon… I don’t think you have any other options,” the sentence hangs on a truth you don’t need spoken. You pale and begrudgingly reach for the snap closure on his thigh, widening grimace now making your face look like a melted Dali painting. The receptionists’ eyebrows go higher and higher the closer your shaking hand gets. Captain America bounces his leg to shake the leather case loose as your hand digs inside and gets stuck between fabric and muscle. Buckeye grumbles in his arms at the jostling and his holder whispers a quiet apology before nuzzling him with his nose.

He doesn’t notice you staring. The receptionist does.

When the wallet is finally pried free (why are his pants so tight, anyway? This bitch is dummy thicc, too, you think) he motions for you to pull out a black card with a surprising bit of heft to it. You nervously hand it over and avoid eye contact with him as the transaction finishes, stuffing the damn thing back in and snapping it shut in one swift motion. You can feel your face stuck in a rigid expression of bewilderment the entire time.

“I-- uh... thanks... for that.”

He motions you with his head to go outside and when you follow him through the automatic doors, a black car is parked in front. The Winter Soldier is in the driver seat and reaches over to open the door. He’s taken his mask off and looks over at the Captain with your dog in his arms. He’s all stubbly and homeless-looking, you think, the complete opposite of Golden Boy Rogers in front of you.

An exhausted look passes over his dark features as he glances from Captain to Buckeye to your fucked-up knees. “...Just... get in.”

 The ride is silent save for the sound of Buckeye’s soft whimpers in the fit of a nightmare. You hush him with soft pets and coo his name in his ears. “It’s okay, Buck. I’m here, Bucky.”

The Soldier snaps his gaze up to you from the rearview mirror. Captain America smirks. You catch neither of their expressions, transfixed on your dog who resembles Frankenweenie more than himself. Stupid fucking bad guy. Stupid Avengers.

“What did you just say?” Winter Soldier slowly asks, and you glare at him in the rearview mirror.

“What?” You snap back. What the fuck was his problem? “Mind your fucking business, I’m talking to my goddamn dog.” Buckeye whimpers again and you pat him lightly to soothe his crying. Captain America begins to chuckle quietly from the passenger seat the longer Winter Soldier stares at you. “Eyes on the fucking road.” You hiss when you catch his glare.

He’s probably going to shoot your ass, you think. Your dog begins to whimper again, a broken string of yowling erupting from him before he stills. The taped gauze on his side has started to turn a slight pink. “It’s gonna be okay, Buck.” You sigh.

“Jesus, what the fuck are you saying?” Winter Soldier nearly shrieks as he pulls sharply into a parking space in front of your building. His volume startles your dog and he shoots up with a loud whine, hitting the plastic cone on the back of the driver’s side. You quickly place both hands on his back to settle him down. “Buckeye, it’s okay.”

Captain America is in a full-on giggle fit now, having to hold his sides to stop himself from seizing. He briefly pauses to apologize and puts a hand on your dog’s head, quieting him with a lazy pet.

“It’s her dog, Buck!” “Yeah I know it’s my dog, Buck.” You snarl, confused as to why this is even a topic of discussion.

Red, white, and shit-for-brains starts up again with the laughing. “Th-the dog’s name--” He wheezes. “Is Buckeye.” There’s a flash of recognition that sweeps over the driver’s reflection in the rearview before it turns into one of annoyance. Then it turns into disdain.

“What kind of a fucking name is that?” He spits before smacking his hand into Captain America’s chest.

“Hey! Shut the hell up! That’s my alma mater you uneducated dickbag!” You point to your red Ohio State shirt with the big “O” right in the middle. It’s so worn and old that the red has faded, and the white print of the O is all cracked, but anyone with two braincells knows exactly what that means. You start bellowing the Ohio State Fight Song proudly and halfway through the second note Buckeye starts to howl weakly beside you.

Captain America bursts into another fit of laughter and pounds on the dashboard with his fists.

The Soldier whips around and slams his metal hand against your mouth, pushing your entire head back against the cushion. “Will you shut up!” To spite him, you continue humming to the best of your ability, even with your lip smushed up against your teeth and his cold palm. You raise your middle finger up between his eyes before holding the last note out particularly long.

Buckeye yowls and yips at your side, punctuating the tune with a quiet whine at the end. He lazily reaches up and licks the elbow joint between the front seat, leaving a slobber trail. He notices his reflection in it temporarily before getting distracted by Captain’s chuckle and lying back down.

Winter Soldier finally pulls his arm away and you take the opportunity to spitefully lick a similar stripe onto his palm, leaving it dripping with the spit you’ve accumulated in your mouth.

He crossly slumps in his seat. “I fucking hate this girl.” He mutters.

“It’s mutual, princess.” You retort, rubbing your stiff jaw and running your fingers against your lips. “What’s your problem with my dog’s name?” You’re a bit suspicious because he doesn’t seem like a college sports guy since he was non-responsive to your shirt but he sure as hell is not a fan of your dog.

“Do you know our names?” Captain America asks you, eyes alight. You shrug, because like, not really. World War II was interesting when you were in the sixth grade and morbid as fuck but it totally went in one ear and out the other for your entire college career. Even more boring was the Captain America propaganda, Super Soldier serum, humanity’s hubris bullshit. You were one of the few people you know who was not losing their mind when Tony Stark toured your university. More than anything, he annoyed you; he caused a huge traffic jam on campus and it ruined your route home. They just weren’t your thing—the Avengers.

“I mean, Stevie Ro… Rober—“ you gauge his reaction carefully, “Ronald— Ro— Ross? Rogers!” You breathe a sigh of relief as he memory of Emily Booth in fourth period doodling “Rogers” inside a million hearts appears in your mind. Then you turn to The Soldier and shrug. Plain as day, you could not recall his name whatsoever. You just called him the Dead Commando in that fourth period American History II final paper.

You got a passing grade, so “Dead Commando” stuck.

“It’s James Buchanan Barnes.” He grits out between clenched teeth.

“That’s fancy.” You deadpan, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“Bucky. For short.”

“Buck, for even shorter.” Rogers pipes up, still all twinkly in the eyes, waiting for you to put two and two together. Yeah. You do. It makes you want to die a little.

“Ugh.” Is all you can manage.

--

He shows up the next morning in civvies: white T-shirt, navy blue bomber jacket, and well-worn dark jeans. You stare dumbly at him as he leans against your doorframe, almost as wide as the entrance itself. You’re half-asleep and dressed in the clothes you had on last night: crumpled red Ohio shirt, mismatched pinstriped blue and white pajama shorts.

Your phone had been misplaced amidst the ruckus of the search party, so you just planned on missing your meeting today. It wasn’t like you could properly function anyway, barely getting to bed at 5:30 and waking up at the asscrack of dawn with Captain Underpants at your door.

Even his knocks sounded patriotic. Big, strong thumping blows that rattled all the way into your bedroom.

“Rough night?” Steve Rogers asks as you try your best to smooth the flyaways of your bedhead. Stupid, perfect, blonde and blue-eyed giant man.

“Am I being haunted? What are you doing here?” Your voice sounds like gravel in a blender as you rub the sleep from your eyes.

He shrugs, looking down at his shoes and smiling secretively, like he’s got another corny joke up his sleeve. “Just wanted to see how Buck’s doing.”

“Don’t you have your own Buck to babysit? From what I remember, he needs a leash more than mine does.”

You let him in anyway, and your dog is waiting patiently by the couch, tail slapping the carpet as he remembers his savior from last night. Steve starts to coo as he scratches Buckeye’s chin and head, careful not to rile him up too much. He looks in complete ecstasy when Steve picks at a particularly good spot.

You shift awkwardly as you stand by the kitchen bar, leaning against a stool. How does one man still manage to look like his superhero moniker in civilian clothing? You bet yourself that his closet hung the same monochromatic color pallet—as if costume director dressed him, just in case he forgot he was Captain America.

“Well...” you begin, moving to the kitchen to brew yourself some coffee. Halfway to the single-serving French press, you trade it out for the larger one and add extra water in the kettle. You’re not sure what to say, so you shut up and groan inwardly as you grind the beans. You dip into the restroom and return with your toothbrush, scrubbing quietly as you watch Steve get on the floor to rub your dog’s pink tummy.

“If you pet him with your foot he won’t know the difference. Save ya knees, man.”

“This good boy deserves a real tummy rub, doesn’t he?” Captain America is using baby talk on your dog. It makes you feel... all funny.

Steve Rogers stands up and beams at you from across the counter. You frown because his perfect white smile is brighter than the sunlight streaming in through your window. You spit and rinse your toothbrush in the sink to avoid the shine, but he’s still there when you return. Great. Not a dream. Maybe a nightmare.

You take the kettle off the stovetop when it starts to squeak and blurt out another snarky comment just because you really hate silences and love being awkward. “Buckeye’s gonna get neutered soon. Wanna take yours too?”

Captain America chuckles and shakes his head, blue eyes twinkling at the hand on your hip. “You know, that smart mouth o’ yours is gonna get you into trouble one day.” You gulp as you pour the water suddenly aware that there is a real, live, broad-as-hell man standing in your living room and looking at you like you’re somebody... and he called your mouth smart.

You’re also suddenly aware that you look like shit and your hand shakes a little when you place the filter over the top of the floating coffee grinds.

“Fuck, I think I’m already in trouble.” You mutter into your shoulder as you turn.

Steve doesn’t catch the comment and digs his hand into his back pocket, producing the phone you’ve been missing since last night. You sigh in relief when you see it- as good as it was before, partially cracked screen, but still working. It’s warm when he puts it in your hand and you automatically pull a face.

“Butt heat. I mean--- hot! Hot ass!—Oh, damn it.”

You shut your eyes and the world feels like it’s stopped spinning altogether. Please god, you think, please let him be gone when you look again because you don’t think you can stand another minute on this Earth. Damn your stupid no-filter smart mouth.

He’s still there, though, because life is so stupid and whatever creator that exist hates you. His left eyebrow is raised, and he’s crossed his arms over his chest, smirking.

“You need to brush up on your compliments.”

“Not a compliment!” You hiss, “Don’t put people’s phones in your back pocket! You’re too fucking big to be sitting on them. But thank you for giving it back.”

Steve laughs as you push the filter down on the French press. He’s saying something about how Bucky wanted to put his hand through the device, but your ears are ringing too loudly to hear him. You feel relieved anyway, because you think that you’ve reached your quip-quota for the day.

You pour yourself a cup and he puts his hands up to stop you, excusing himself-- somewhere to be, some old lady to save, he says. You fumble around a bottom cabinet for a second before pulling out a thermos and dumping the rest of the press’ coffee into it.

“Since you did hand-deliver my phone to me, it’s the least I can do. It’s blue, too. Complements your eyes.”

He smiles and takes the thermos from you. “That was a good compliment.” He says, all twinkly again.

“Complement, not compliment.” You correct bluntly.

He takes two steps to the door before turning, “No, the compliment was that you noticed my eyes at all.” He laughs when your face scrunches up, miffed. Captain America was a real … sonuvabitch. “By the way... I left you a number for a dogsitter, just in case you need one.” You rotate the flat rectangle of your phone against your chest as he yanks the door open. “It’s a good service. Reliable. And they text, too.”

And just like that, he’s gone. You stare at Buckeye, who whines pathetically at the door.

You cock your head, looking at the time on the splintered screen. Might as well, you think, reading 7:15 flashing back at you. You could make it to campus by 9.

 The meeting drags on with your advisor, and it’s almost noon before you realize that you’re going to get hauled into another one of those pop-up seminars the faculty has been putting on all year. You’ve managed to avoid two because there’s just no fucking time to go! How are they expecting you to finish your thesis, go to class, grade a hundred stupid student papers, hold office hours, respond to a thousand e-mails a day, and keep your sanity?

It’s something you’re eager to complain to your therapist about any time she starts asking about your personal life. Which, you’ve been dodging re-scheduling recently. Shit.

You calculate the hours you’ll be away as you sip room-temperature coffee from a fuzzy paper cup. It’ll be another four hours before you can make it home and Buckeye really needs to go outside and have his bandages changed before then. Shit.

Your thumbprint opens the home screen and you scroll through your contacts, searching for that aforementioned “reliable” dogsitter. You hope to hell they’re also immediately available as you part a crowd of undergraduates to exit the building. Tapping the message bubble button, you open up a new thread.

You: Hello. I was referred to your services by a friend. Are you available today by any chance?

Your phone almost immediately vibrates back and you sigh in relief.

Dogsitter: That was fast.

You’re confused, but another response pops up again.

Dogsitter: What time do you need me to come by? And for how long?

You: ASAP? If that’s okay? Um. My dog is really fine on his own, but he’s been in an accident and I need him to have his bandages changed and given medicine. Also, he needs to be taken for a potty-break.

Dogsitter: Potty break, medicine, bandages. Got it…. And what about your key?

You: Yeah, I’ll send you my location for my key. What are your rates by the way?

You open up your map and set the pin to your location before sharing it with the dogsitter. It feels way too good to be true, but you’re a little crunched for time and even if he’s a crazy serial killer, you’ve got a pit bull and nothing of value in your apartment. You feel pretty secure.

The attempt to share your coordinates is rejected and you close the notification. Your phone buzzes in your hand again.

Dogsitter: My rates really depend on the dog… and shouldn’t you be asking for my name, or some identifying marker to recognize me by before I show up and take your [1/2]

You stare blankly at the green speech cloud. What the hell… even twitter updated its character count to 280… who the hell is living so far in the past… before you can finish your thought, the following green balloon appears.

Dogsitter: house key? Stranger danger, ma’am. [2/2]

All the right gears start clicking in your brain and suddenly two perfect pieces of the puzzle fits together. The mystifying black shadow on the other end of the line begins to come into view.

You: ….Steve... Roberts?

Dogsitter: Rogers!

The sound that erupts from your mouth is inhumanly pathetic, a mixture of a groan and a whine. Who did you piss off in your last life to be this cursed?

Next Chapter

#marvel #mcu #Steve x Reader x Bucky #fanfiction #self insert #stucky x reader #FiMS #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader

[twilightknight17]

Today on P5S, we’re taking a nice relaxing dip in the hot sprin--

Fukuoka, Kyushu! The plan was to keep going straight through to Kyoto, but Makoto was hurting from all the driving, so we pulled over with the intention of spending the night in a proper hotel and having a good meal. Which, of course, means ramen, because we gotta try the local ramen in each place. ^_^

Even Morgana wanted to try, though he requested that Akira blow on it, first, because “feline tongues are sensitive.”

The plan was to stay in Fukuoka until Makoto was feeling better, but Zenkichi called and basically said we had to get to Kyoto right away. So after a night of sleep, we got up the next morning, and we finally learned why Haru hasn’t been driving, despite having her license.

My wife has a lead foot.

Apparently no one but Joker and Queen ever drove the Mona Bus, because everyone but Makoto seemed extremely surprised.

Supposedly it was eight hours to Kyoto. We were there by noon.

Anyway, this old bar is apparently Zenkichi’s safe house, if anything ever goes wrong on an investigation.

He’s tracked the list of names that we found in the lab back to a politician called Jyun Owada, who was apparently a Shido supporter. This guy would benefit from changes of heart, and one of his supporters is the CEO of Madicce, Mr. Akira Konoe. They determine that Owada wouldn’t have a Jail himself, but that he’s probably getting Konoe to influence people for him. Which means that, since Sophia sensed a Jail in Osaka (that we missed because we were all screaming at Haru’s driving), it’s most likely that Konoe is a Monarch.

So my dart hit the board, I just gotta see how close to the bullseye.

Zenkichi heads to Osaka for a meeting with Konoe to try to get his keyword, and convinces the kids to stay behind. They need to rest and recover so they can be at their best for the Jail. Plus, he’s put them up in the nicest hotel in Kyoto! Which means it’s time to go to the hot springs!

The boys are having a lovely time relaxing. Even Morgana’s chilling on a rock with his tail in the water, basking in the chance to really unwind.

.......Atlus. We need to have words.

Not only was this absolutely unnecessary...

It’s the exact same scenario as P3. We’re even in the same goddamn city. If I thought Gekkoukan would be willing to spend 40K per person a night, it might as well be the same hotel.

Apparently, the boys went in right before the time switched over, and didn’t realize. And now, once again, they’re up for an unjust execution. At least Yosuke and Teddie were actually peeping in P4.

Personally, I think a better plan would have been to start yelling, “Who’s there?” as soon as the girls came in. Sneaking just makes it look like you’re up to something nefarious. It was an honest mistake. And really, trying to get out without causing a scene isn’t a heinous crime.

We don’t see who knocked over the thing that got them caught, but they do get caught. There’s no gameplay here. Defeat is inevitable. And...

The girls jump immediately to accusing them of being perverts. Never mind that they’re wet because they just got out of the damn hot spring. And the boys try to explain. They try their best. They explain that they didn’t realize the time had switched. They explain that they’d gotten locked in without noticing, because the men’s side doors lock when it switches over. “It was an accident,” Akira says, plaintively.

And Makoto looks at these boys that she’s fought alongside for over a year. The ones who risked their lives to save her and everyone more than once. The teammates that she stood beside as they shot a god and saved the entire damn world. The ones who, on this very roadtrip, stepped in to defend Haru from Natsume being a harassing jackass... And she says...

She sounds actually angry.

And she beats them up.

For an honest mistake.

I know this is a trope, but in this particular instance, it’s stupid, and it feels incredibly out of character. None of the boys deserve this, but Akira least of all. He’s your goddamn leader; he’s done more for any of you than anyone else. He’s been falsely accused of shit over and over, and now he has to deal with it from his own teammates?

For shame, Atlus. Shitty writing, especially because this event is never going to be brought up again. Was this supposed to be funny? Because in this situation, it wasn’t at all.

...now that I’m done being cranky, let’s go check how Zenkichi’s meeting in Osaka is going.

Hm. Nowhere, apparently, because Konoe’s gone for the day. Weird. Zenkichi had an appointment and everything.

Now let’s check on... well fuck.

Commissioner Kaburagi, Zenkichi’s boss, is summoned by the commissioner general and the previously mentioned Owada. This asshole is claiming to have evidence that the Phantom Thieves are behind all the changes of heart. They hacked into EMMA!

You’ve got a lot of fucking nerve, when you’re the one behind this.

.......maybe this lady is better than I thought.

She says that there’s not enough proof, and that they need to look into things more. The commissioner general counters that the Thieves are going to be tried for murder. Because apparently they killed that poor man at the Okinawa facility after they learned how to get into EMMA.

Kaburagi knows this is bullshit and wants to investigate more, but they basically tell her to do it or else. And promise that she’ll be commissioner general one day. After the current commissioner general launches his political career with the capture of the Phantom Thieves, of course. And she’s just going to follow orders. Never mind. God. I didn’t misjudge her at all.

Konoe goes on TV and announces that they’re shutting down EMMA temporarily, because the Phantom Thieves hacked it and stole personal information. He also informs everyone that they murdered one of his employees. Zenkichi and I had the same reaction, which was “WHAT?!”

Look at this asshole.

Zenkichi realizes what’s going to happen and takes off for Kyoto. Cut to that night, where there’s an entire fucking squad of police outside of the hotel in riot gear. For seven teenagers. Zenkichi shows up and basically pleads with Kaburagi to stop and think, because the real mastermind is still out there.

Kaburagi snaps back with, “You mean like with your wife?” and Zenkichi shuts up. Low blow, lady. She also points out that he seems very attached to criminals.

Before Kaburagi can have the police storm the place, Zenkichi yells for the kids to run, and gets arrested for it. The kids make it to the safe house, but when they find out about the arrest, they want to go after him. They end up agreeing to let Makoto handle that, and then we get a look at King Asshole himself.

I hate how nice this man’s office is.

And I’m kind of afraid of EMMA.

Good luck with that, though. You’d have to break them first; you can’t change the heart of someone stable enough to have a persona. Not that this fuck would know that.

God, he’s like if Shido and Maruki had a fucked-up kid. He wants his own personal team capable of entering the metaverse and changing people, to make the world “better”. Holy fuck.

Somehow I don’t think you’re the one in the right, when you’re talking about making us a “sacrifice to bring about [your] new world order.”

So the next day, the Thieves get a text from Akane’s phone number, that basically says she’s been kidnapped. It’s clearly a trap, but they all agree that they have to go. According to the text, if they want her back, they need to come to Inari Taisha.

Also known as Fushimi Inari, the largest Inari Shrine in Japan. I’ve been there.

I have literally been right there. I have a picture:

And so the kids head into a Jail based on Fushimi Inari where the keyword is “Phantom Thieves”, and I try not to explode from sheer glee because oh boy I thought I’d have to wait a lot longer for this and also I didn’t expect it to be somewhere I know.

Eeeeeeeee~

They find Akane tied up and all go running towards her. Futaba trips, and before she can catch up, a huge cage snatches up the rest of them, because surprise, the Jail Monarch is Akane, and she’s absolutely ready to lord it over them.

Meanwhile, Zenkichi is getting beaten up in interrogation and taking it like a champ.

But it’s okay, because Makoto called in a favor. <3

Futaba managed to get back to the safe house, and Zenkichi met up with her there after Sae got him released.

So you know that bit in P5 where the phan-site poll hits 100% belief and we summoned a demon the size of a skyscraper? That’s Zenkichi right now, except he’s hitting Maximum Dad Energy and I’m pretty sure he’s going to summon his persona.

There’s a cool stealth sequence where you have to sneak by a bunch of shadows, because Zenkichi doesn’t have a persona. Futaba runs navigation for him, but it’s so funny because he... sneaks like a regular person. He doesn’t leap into cover with superhuman speeds.

It might have been cool to play Zenkichi With A Gun, but stealth mode was fun, too. XD

And then the confrontation with Akane. She gives the Thieves a choice of who wants their heart changed first, but before anyone can stupidly volunteer, Zenkichi shows up, and a few more things get revealed. Most importantly, the fact that Owada is the one who killed Zenkichi’s wife, and Zenkichi got death threats directed at Akane if he didn’t stop investigating. No fucking wonder he couldn’t solve the case. But Akane is too disillusioned to listen, because she doesn’t understand. And Zenkichi is forced to confront that at some point, he compromised his morals, telling himself he was doing it for Akane.

This line wasn’t sung, but I kind of wish it was, considering who his persona is. :P

Zenkichi admits that he might have been wrong. But he was doing it to protect the only family he had left.

“But at least I know what makes a person evil. Evil only cares about itself. It’s the mark of a man who would bring another to ruin and dare not show remorse.”

And his awakening was badass.

Shitty picture, but his literal shadow had glowing eyes while it was forming the contract. It was so cool. :D

Wolf is awesome. After beating up a whole hoard of shadows by himself, Akane got away, the Thieves were freed, and we all went back to the safe house to rest. And I swear, you take a nap for one hour, and cannot get any peace. XDDD

Thank you, darling. Now I gotta figure out what deck that’s from.

So that was today. Technically I only played for like...2 and a half hours?? But god, we hit the hot springs and everything just flung itself directly off a cliff and all I could do was hold on.

I have so many thoughts about things!!! But I need to see more first. But this has been fantastic overall.

#god this is a long one #Li plays P5Scramble

[nothingeverlost]

lenny/midge please? 'when i first saw you, the end was soon'

And the award for most cheerful prompt goes to...

Set a couple of years in the future.  Trigger warnings for drug references.  Loosely based on historical events.  Do I have to warn for swearing in a Lenny and Midge fic or is that just assumed?

I’m still finding my feet with these two.  Feedback is much appreciated.

@phoenixwrites @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels tagging you for obvious reasons.

“I needed a ride home because I didn’t have my wallet.  That doesn’t mean you’re obligated to cook for me.  I’ll be a good little boy.  No booze, nothing up my nose.“

II

“Do you know what I thought the first time I saw you in front of a room?”  Lenny was in the passenger seat, half slumped against the door.  She had the heater on despite the fact that it was June in California, but he was still shivering.

“That I was a lightweight in addition to being a complete mess?”  Two hits from a joint and she’d not only completely forgotten to introduce the band, but she’d committed the sin of getting too serious during a set.

“I thought there she is, finally.  It’s going to be okay when I’m done because she’s there and she’d just getting started.  You stood up there and you were real.”  He held up his hand and gestured at the window as if pointing to a stage that was three thousand miles away and years in the past.  “And I knew that arrest wasn’t an anomaly.  You were going to take on the world and you were going to be a hell of a lot better at it than I was.”

“Do you have an oven?”  She hated California traffic.  If she was in New York she could have just relied on cabs but they were rare around here and cost too much when everything was miles apart and so she’d rented a car.  In the moment, though, she was glad to have something else to focus on.  

“Do I have a what?”  For just a moment he sounded like himself, not the shadow that had called her from the hospital.  He’d repeated himself twice before she’d realized it was him.

“An oven.  You’re renting a place, right?  My hotel doesn’t have an oven.”

“I think they’re pretty standard in a kitchen and I have one of those.  Midge…”

“I’m making a brisket.  We’ll stop at the store when I see one and pick up a few things.  You can stay in the car if you want but a little walking would be good for you and I don’t know what you like and what you hate.  For eating.  I don’t see you eat very much, you know?  We’ve shared what, half a dozen meals together and half of those were pretzels and nuts.”  ‘When I’m done’ he said, and she was talking like if she said enough she could stop hearing the echo of it in her head.  He could have been done last night, according to the nurse.  

“I needed a ride home because I didn’t have my wallet.  That doesn’t mean you’re obligated to cook for me.  I’ll be a good little boy.  No booze, nothing up my nose.  Just me and my bed for the rest of the day.”  He struggled to sit up in the seat.

“You’re too thin and you need some red meat.”  Midge pulled into the parking lot of the first grocery store she saw.  “Oh fuck, you just made me sound like a Jewish yenta.”

“The last thing I think of when I see you is yenta.”

“Sure.”  No, he thought of her as caring on a tradition or some shit that let him off the hook.  “Are you coming in?”

“Why not.”  She often thought of Lenny as dancing, even before the first time they’d been on the dance floor together.  He seemed to glide as he moved, to sway, nothing so banal as just walking.  As they walked through the parking lot his steps were almost mechanical, as if he was trying to remember how humans moved.  She nodded to the carts; maybe having something to hold onto would help him.

She’d forgotten it was Valentine’s Day.  The moment they walked through the doors they were assaulted by red and pink hearts, sales on steak, and plastic cupids ‘flying’ precariously over the produce department.  Great.  She was twice divorced (from the same man) very single, and stupidly in love with a man who apparently thought of her as his replacement.

“The brisket will take hours so I’m getting some chicken soup.  I hope their deli has a decent one.  We need carrots and potatoes.  You should have some fruit too; I hear oranges are good out here.”  She pushed the cart through the produce department first, adding apples as well.  Some lettuce too, for a salad with dinner.

“Midge.”

“If I know you there’s probably not much in your fridge.  We should get some milk and some cheese.  And we’ll get some crackers, those are good when your stomach is upset.  How do you feel about Jell-o?”  She led him to the meat department so she could get the brisket.  

“Midge.”

“I prefer a butcher for my meat, they know their cuts better, but sometimes you just have to settle.”  At least the man behind the counter seemed to know what he was doing.  

“Miriam.”  She couldn’t ignore him with a hand on her arm.  Couldn’t move forward.

“This is where you want to do this, Lenny?  Here, surrounded by yogurt and paper hearts and discount packages of frozen vegetables?  What do you want me to say, though I’m okay with you trying to kill yourself because hey, I’ll be around to pick up the pieces and my life will suck the moment I get that phone call but at least I will have something to talk about when I’m on stage?”  It was so goddamn cold.  Someone needed to change the settings on the refrigerators before the milk started freezing.  Midge reached for the cart but stopped herself.  “Make your own damn brisket if that’s how you feel because fuck you.  I lived my life for a man once and I am never doing that again.  This is my life.  I’m not here to replace you or continue your act or whatever the hell it is that you want.”

It wasn’t hard to pull away from him, breaking his hold.  His hand was trembling.  “I’m not trying to kill myself.”

“You’re not trying to not kill yourself either.”  He’d lost too much weight, his clothes hanging off him.  The shadows under his eyes spoke of a lot more than a missed night of sleep.  Heroin, the nurse had said.  From her own experience there was alcohol too, and marijuana.  And missed meals.

“I just need a break from all this.”  His hand fluttered near his forehead.  “It makes the world stop for a little while.”

“Ma’am, someone reported a disturbance back here.  Is this man bothering you?”  A man in a very bad sweater vest and a name tag that said “Manager Chip” approached them.  Midge almost laughed.  Disturbance?  He didn’t know the half of it.

“We’re fine,” she lied.  “My husband is just out of the hospital after a bomb exploded in his office and he’s a little hard of hearing still.”

“Yes ma’am.  Sorry to bother you.”

“A bomb?”  Lenny cocked his head to the side.

“Would you have preferred syphilis?” She sighed.  “We should go.  Leave the cart, someone will sort it out.”

“I’ve heard stories of this brisket of yours.  Legends.  I’d like to see if it lives up to the rumors.”

“Lenny.”  He was smiling for the first time since she’d seen him six months ago in Chicago.  That damn grin of his, the one she never saw on stage but only when they were alone, was a curse.  It could get her to do almost anything.

“You’re no one’s second act, Midge.  I didn’t mean it to sound like that.”

“You’re not replaceable.  Not on stage and not off it either.”  She’d been using Lenny Bruce as a measuring stick since she’d seen him in college.  It wasn’t fair to him, and really wasn’t fair to other men, but somehow he’d become a part of the center of her universe.  She either needed to pull away completely or she needed to stop hiding from it.  “I don’t want to lose you.”

“You’re too good for me, Midge.”

“That is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard you say.  You can decide to be my friend or you can tell me to fuck off.  You can be my lover or you can tell me you’re not interested.  Decide for yourself but you don’t get to decide for me.”

“I can’t promise you a future, I don’t know how much I have in me.”  It scared her to know that he only spoke the brutal truth.

“I’m not asking for promises.  I’m asking for you to sit at a table and eat soup while I make dinner.  I’m asking you to sleep in a bed and tomorrow we’ll see if this town has anything that passes as a deli.  And maybe, if you want, you can talk to me a little.  We’re pretty good at not talking to each other, maybe it’s time we try something different.”

“How novel.”  He closed his eyes for a moment.  The soup might need to wait until he’d had a nap first.

“I’m not just getting started anymore, Lenny.  I’ve been around the block.  I know enough to know what I want and what I can handle.”  She grabbed the cart.  They needed to get out of the grocery store.  Melting down on stage was enough without adding grocery stores to the list.

“You can tell I feel like crap because I don’t have a single joke ready for what I’d like you to handle.”

“I’ll give you a twenty-four hour grace period.  You can give me your best joke tomorrow.”  Thank God she didn’t have a show tonight.  

“Tomorrow.  Yeah, okay, I can do that.”  He walked next to her, hands in his pockets.  “Don’t forget the Jell-O.  I like the green one.  But if there are any vegetables in there I won’t eat it.”

“How do you feel about pineapple?”  

“I wouldn’t object.”  They stopped in the baking aisle for Jell-O and a cake mix.  One of the paper hearts had fallen; she didn’t see it until she’d rolled over it with the cart.  It felt like the setup for a joke in her act.  She hoped it wasn’t a sign.

“Let’s go home.”

#lenny x midge #the marvelous mrs. maisel #the marvelous mrs. maisel fic #my fic #actuallylorelaigilmore

[vaguely-concerned]

The Untamed Liveblog

Yes hello I watched the whole thing and wrote down some of my thoughts and feelings along the way so I wouldn’t fuckign EXPLODE! Only look under the cut if you’re prepared for a truly outrageous amount of rambling (...no really)  

- I am elated to find that so far every adaptation I’ve seen has faithfully preserved the absolutely bizarre structure of the original book, I am appreciating the dedication haha

- the actor lends this version of lan wangji such an edge of youth and vulnerability right from the beginning, it breaks my heart. I don’t care how good he is with a sword, you can’t expose this pure sweet boy to the horrors of war!!! 

- I am so glad I already know who all these characters are and wtf is going on, I can’t imagine watching this first time without that knowledge lol 

- I love how they’ve made nie huaisang look so small and soft next to all the other cultivator, he looks like a floofy and eternally confused baby birb ;______;

- nhs citing the goldfinch as the reason he doesn’t want to die (presumably because no one will know to take care of it) TOT ur meant to be comic relief in this part of the story buddy you can’t make me cry like this yet!!!

(also the actor for wwx effortlessly sliding into being protective and reassuring and Good in a crisis. wonderful!)

- the actor for xue yang has chosen to go with the sexy baby school of evil acting normally associated with female villains and for that I can only applaud him

also setting up characters who are going to be important later on is something this show is doing better than the original haha, both the extra wen quing & ning and song lan & xiao xingcheng content is appreciated. (especially the latter suffered from ‘oh yeah those two -- actually wait who the fuck are these two again’ syndrome for me when I read the book. additional note: I am very sorry but clearly they are gay there’s no other explanation here)  

- poor jiang cheng, they really haven’t given him much help in this huh. I would sort of have preferred it if they let him be ever so slightly less abrasive in the beginning, like in the book and the animated version; I’m not feeling quite as devastated over this relationship as I did in either of those.

- lan xichen’s soft knowing smile is a blessing every time. just a nice man. did not deserve this. protect.  

- kudos to the actor for jin guangyao for the instinctive creeping unease I feel whenever he talks, even at this stage. he’s a wrong ‘un sir he’s a wrong ‘un

- y’know both the fact that nhs spent three days catching a bird and kept it with him undetected and that he’s the friend you go to for the good porn and managed to not only smuggle it into the cloud recesses but did so without getting caught... some wonderful subtle foreshadowing here (to make up for the very blatant visual foreshadowing that’s already been given out I assume lol)

- anyway lan ancestor lady and baoshan-sanren? gay. sad and gay. (I love how thoroughly wwx is getting to meet the in-laws btw lol how often do you have to meet your future spouse’s family from like three generations ago and take care of her rabbits for her after she’s gone, all before you even get to second base)

- fkadshfkasjdlhfsdjkfh the sheer consistency of nhs wistfully commenting on all the beautiful men surrounding him fsadfkjsdhfksd I think they might oh so subtly be hinting at some stuff here. HILARIOUS that this version, which has to maintain at least the veneer of some plausible homoerotic deniability, is a lot more overt about it than the book, which is free to be balls to the wall as gay as you please  

- oh no nie mingjue just showed up my entire heart is on fire. BIG BROTHER!! so stern yet fair, so righteous, so worried y______y also can we talk about how his ‘hmmm I think imma stab it?’ approach to evil in general and xue yang in particular would have saved everyone a lot of grief later on? and he tells wwx the whole necromancy thing is probably not a good idea? (I really like how he does it too, he has so much Older Brother Energy it spills over when he talks to other kids around huaisang’s age lol. it’s good that they show his temper isn’t indiscriminate at all, he’s not angry at wwx even though his idea is provably incredibly dangerous) sole ornery voice of reason nie mingjue, also did not deserve what’s about to happen, I cry and my tears are blood  

- ‘yeah okay I get that you’re mad but have you maybe considered... I didn’t do it?’ is an unusually weak opening move from jgy considering nmj literally did just see him absolutely 100% do it

- there should be a WARNING at the beginning of episodes where nmj cries so one could be PREPARED for the emotional devastation!!!!! tollest & stronkest man of the cast also stupidly pretty and heartbreaking while crying, it’s not fair

- I love how every cultivation sect’s home (except for the wens b/c they’re cartoon villains) is refined and beautiful and luxurious, even when it’s in a restrained way like the lans’... and then there’s the nie place which is like ‘please understand that this is a fuckn fortress’

- aww this doomed jiang cheng/wen quing thing is cute! too bad about... everything that’s about to happen happening huh

- oh wen ning.  very hilarious that he’s known as the ~*ghost general*~ forevermore when actually... he is baby... cinnamon roll baby... too good for this world, too pure...

- how is this cgi turtle somehow less egregious than the one in the animated version lol. I quite like this bad little friend! long neck.

- oh NO lan wangji finally letting himself show that he’s in pain when they’re in private... i’m uwu  

this beautiful boy is so long and lanky tho, I must admit he triggers my parental instinct more than the hot boy alert at this stage (but that’s fine I’m not the one who’s going to smooch him that’s wwx’s job lol)

the look of absolute disbelief and despair lwj gives when wwx thinks he’s in love with mianmian... this show is a cinematic masterpiece and I will hear no other opinion  

- lwj looking at the love of his life completely missing the point: are you a joke to you (the answer is yeah)

- okay we’ve officially hit the point where everything’s about to go to hell for real, pray for me I’m not sure I can handle this again

- jiang fengmian acknowledge your other son who desperately wants your attention and affection challenge (unfinished)

- watching this scene knowing exactly what this promise means to jiang cheng and that wwx is going to break it... this is fINE

why the fuck did I do this to myself I know what’s about to happen when will I learn to quit while I’m ahead lol

- the change in subtext from the novel that EVERYONE sees wangxian coming from day one is so painful from jiang cheng’s side. this poor boy really has abandonment issues pelting him from every direction huh. tfw your idiot genius brother doesn’t even fucking realize he’s basically announcing he’s leaving your clan and your side to get married one day ;______;

- man mxtx is just so GOOD at peppering in the small private tragedies that somehow sting even worse than huge atrocities going on. the fact that madam yu and papa jiang never manage to reconcile and communicate except possibly in death... oof my friends. oooof.

- WAIT WHAT NO DON’T SHOW ME THE CHILDREN WHO’RE ABOUT TO DIE WHAT THE FUCK YOU MONSTERS

- like we’re right at the worst part now and she is an asshole... but damn madam yu’s last stand is epic tho. like a champ to the end

- wen zhuliu’s actor being able to uphold a look of tremendous boredom at all times regardless of what’s going on around him is Poetic Cinema Bitches

- jiang cheng and wei ying are holding hands on the boat... stab me in the heart... end my suffering

- you know what in this version we get to see that madam yu knew her husband came back for her and they died holding hands and not everything’s on fire yet, so far this isn’t quite as harrowing as the animated version. the dead children are fucking me up but the tone of the animated version is like a nightmare, this is less disturbing to me

also can we talk about how madam yu fought them off the whole day and night and her husband gets his ass owned within five minutes 😔 oh papa jiang

- oh okay turns out jiang cheng’s ‘I want my mom and dad’ gets to me in every adaptation good to know

they’re so young they’re bbs I don’t want to be here anymore haha

- wen ning. a sweet angel. just the goodest of boys. his sister raised him so well ;______:

- wen quing is so ethereally beautiful and also looks like she could stop a train with the force of one glance. like she’s my height but her presence is immense

- oh I see we’ve arrived at the tiny adorable flashback bbs part of this journey, let me just... just lie down somewhere huh

- outside of the central romance this is a tale about people who love their brothers very very much and it’s real sad for everyone involved

- me watching nie mingjue kicking down the doors to reclaim his own dang fortress: YEEEEAAAAH GO OFF DAGE!!! i um love him and his very handsome face

- jiang cheng dreaming about his family is EMOTIONAL WARFARE!!! how fucking dare!!!

- y’know what this isn’t a bad way of adapting the burial grounds thing! also pretty cost effective I imagine, gotta think about the budget when so much of it goes into fabulous wigs and robes

- credit where it’s due, the actor for wen chao makes his face do some shit I didn’t know human faces could do and he’s enjoyable to watch in the capacity as your friendly neighbourhood hate sink

- lwj consistently using wwx’s personal name even when talking to total strangers now... mhm this is also fine

- I can’t beliEVE this show is somehow less subtle about the gay stuff than the book, jin zixuan basically just asked lwj if he and wwx were... y’know... I guess cultivation partners would be the way to go here lol. between that and nhs more or less asking them if they were off fucking after the whole cold cave debacle... what a time to be alive even if they’re not going to kiss on-screen  

- huaisang I hate to have to be the one to tell you this but your brother is an entire snacc. and yet I respect him way too much to ever proposition him, I know he is busy winning a war and being Righteous and slowly being driven mad by the ghost in his sword on top of raising his little brother, I’m not here to complicate things for him any further

I love this version of nmj so much though. this sense that he also sees the stuff that is genuinely good in jgy and has a real moment of grief that the dude just can’t seem to get away from his basic insecurity that causes him to do horrific things, even when handed other opportunities... the fact that he seems regretful and worried when asking jin zixuan how jgy is doing with the jin....... everything to do with his little brother...................... oh no he’s Soft in his private life this is awful

- poor lwj’s ‘I have a bad feeling about this’ face in this scene haha, he’s staring at this talisman like ‘I only know one person smart and dumb enough to pull this off’

- can’t wen quing just get one nice thing. one nice thing just for her. hasn’t she been through enough. give her her brother back and a nice quiet place to practice medicine and maybe some soft romance with jiang cheng eventually this show is kind of selling me on this.  

- unexpectedly my favourite part of the revenge scene is just the camera switching back to lwj and jc watching in horrified silence like ‘...O___o dude this is fucked up tho right?? it’s not just me that’s messed up??’

- one is forced to wonder about wen zhuliu tho. this version reads as pretty explicitly depressed/suicidal to me, he’s kind of an interesting villain since his main traits are unquestioning loyalty mixed with unending indifference and also seemingly not too pressing a will to live

- oh nhs desperately trying to keep it together and pretend nothing’s different ;_____; this version is really driving it home that wwx is a lot of people’s only friend -- jiang cheng is mentioned to not have anyone but his sister to play with before he arrived, lwj was raised primarily on books and rules and his brother is ELATED that he has one (1) friend now, from the sheer depth of the attachment I’m willing to bet nhs hasn’t had many real friends in his life either. wwx gives and gives of himself and doesn’t know how to take help in return.    

- foreknowledge is a beautiful thing; if you look at nhs when it’s revealed wwx didn’t bring his sword you can visibly see his brain kicking into overdrive haha. smart boy.

- big sister ;_______; I am an older sibling so I haven’t really had the feeling of having an older sister to look to, I see why it might be comforting now

- oh this is some real uruk-hai shit!! honestly the special effects in this aren’t half as bad as I’d been lead to fear, some of you guys just weren’t forged in the crucible of shitty sci-fi channel cgi at an early age and it shows  

(honestly the weird fight stuff threw me much worse in nirvana in fire, because that series has such intricate, credible and realistic political world building and then people are flying all over the place through wire fu and it is so disorienting haha)

- oh nhs looking up at his brother like a puppy during the war council T______T baby bird boy

(between this point in the main story and fatal journey it’s very interesting how clearly nhs needs the emotional stability and safety of his brother -- who also seems to be his parental figure -- to function properly, even in his late teens. it looks like he needed more time to grow up than the rest of them even before they were all thrown into this awful bullshit. well he does have a lot of murderkitten brain to grow I guess that’s fair enough lol. wwx has some of the same thing with his sister too)

- whenever lxc and nmj look at each other it feels like the only two adults in the room meeting each other’s eyes like ‘...oh dear’

- aww lwj getting some advice from his brother. this poor kid really hasn’t been raised to handle the moral complexity of the real world huh, good thing lxc is here to lend some nuance to lan qiren’s unforgiving dogma

- oh lan zhan

- nmj’s plan to just idk somehow go in alone and fight the wen overlord mano a mano to avoid any more casualties... a spine made of steel, a heart made of gold, a head made of wood :’) truly a perfect man, good thing his brother got the brains in that family and he has some more sensible people around him

- in the face of inevitability I plead... jiang yanli... please don’t marry this asshole your son is going to be predictably insufferable

wwx has suffered through so much the last four months or so and yet his real breaking point is seeing his sister cry and can I just say -- relatable content

- NO! NO STOP HURTING HIM HE’S JUST GOOD AND HANDSOME AND DOESN’T DESERVE THIS

(could be applied to like 98% of these characters but in this case it’s nmj b/c I love him)

I do find it very funny and oddly comforting that nmj is literally so fuckn mad that it takes three times as many attacks for the evil sorcery stuff to take him down than we’ve seen used on anyone else fsdkfhasdkj too angry to die  

wHY has my brain chosen for me to attach so deeply to perhaps The single most inevitably doomed person in this entire cast, at this point I’m just being cruel to myself lol

- I can’t describe how much I love the fanficiness of this story, in the best ways. the emotional fallout from the destruction of the lotus pier gets more screentime and attention than the entire sunshot campaign, and that’s exactly how I want it to be.  

- they’ve been doing some great work to establish that the jin are also jeeeeeerks for such a long time, how’s that for foreshadowing

- equal opportunity traitor jgy gets his stab in lol one must respect the grift, though, he’s set himself up pretty darn good

*lxc stops nmj from killing jgy, hello darkness my old friend starts playing in the background*

fatal journey builds nicely on this fundamental thing that the nie boys take their responsibility to their people extremely seriously, it seems to be the fact that jgy so blithely talks about them as necessary casualties that really sets him off

- adlfsdfhsdkjh lxc and nmj meekly being like ‘...we could maybe... not commit war crimes? if that’s at all possible? no?’

*slaps ‘I don’t think you even tried at all’ stars on both of them* (I mean I actually do kind of see where they’re coming from a bit, they just came out of a pretty costly war and I wouldn’t feel too comfortable getting right back into it with arguably the wealthiest faction, who’s also been keeping back a bit and thus kept a lot more reserves. well played jin bastards well played)

- I could stop here. if I stopped here everything would basically be as okay as they could be and the world full of hope still. I suppose the question here is... do I love myself enough to quit while the going is good. and the answer is no I already started the next episode

- I think one incredibly endearing aspect of this version of nmj is that he has a look of faint but permanent worry about him. he walked onto the screen with a vibe of ‘...oh boy I don’t like where this is going’ and he’s just kept going ever since

in the book he’s kind of a flat character (whose one trait is Mad), I love that they’ve given him some depth and nuance here! probably partly down to the actor doing a great job, but this version has a real sort of warmth to him and also seems downright uncertain at times -- he thrives when there’s a clear goal and black and white sides, and is probably not  t h r i l l e d with the weird tentative political situation after they take down the wens lol. thank god he has his little brother to make ‘bitch please’ faces over his shoulder when the jin get weird about things

anyway I’m always on the ‘nhs you are SO valid’ train, but in this version nhs is quadruple valid, in fact only mianmian is more valid in this entire world

- one of my favourite parts of this show is when wwx enters a situation and the camera takes some time to zoom in on the faces of his family and friends to convey their sense of ‘oh god what the fuck is he about to say now’ dread    

- jiang yanli asking her little brother if he doesn’t want to stay with them anymore while crying is emotional kryptonite, help

this poor woman, she had to put all her points into emotional intelligence b/c god knows no one else in this family did

- hell YEAH lan zhan go break some rules!! treat yourself my guy

- hey sis if, theoretically, one hypothetically found oneself in -- for the sake of argument -- love with, as the case may or may not be, someone... how would one tell?? asking for a friend

- the whole summary of this fucking show is just ‘weaponized sibling feels’ everything hurts with foreknowledge why did I keep going

- aw no blindfolded kiss scene but here’s a scene with real earnest emotional intimacy stuff going on instead... I will joyfully take it your honor

- I do value and respect the translators giving us these subtitles so much... but they did also force me to read the words ‘bosom friend’ with my own two eyes right there and that was not very cool of them

- why oh WHY must jiang yanli, best person in the world, have been cursed with the horrible fate of being in love with the dumbest man on the planet

*jiang yanli juggling all the idiot men in her life* oh god my little brother is causing an international diplomatic incident again time to bUCKLE UP

oh ho ho you know shit is getting real when big sister gets mad I LOVE HER. suddenly you see she definitely her mother’s daughter after all lol

wwx crying because his sister just fiercely defended him in public... im uwu

- I hate jgy with all my heart but I do feel bad for him too. his barely faltering :) look while all his asshole relatives gang up on him sdfhskahf

- again the jin are dicks but when it comes to aesthetics they do go off, that’s such a beautiful shade of blue

- dsflhsdakjlfhsdakjfl sd this shot of lwj and nmj right before lxc drinks is the funniest framing imaginable b/c lwj is wearing a look of complete stonefaced

-___________-

and meanwhile nmj, who presumably has seen lxc drunk before since they’re longstanding bros, looks worried as fUCK

- awwwww I do love nhs capitalizing all of jc’s attention so the others won’t start shit with him/so he won’t get to say something publicly he’ll regret later because he’s (understandably honestly) mad at his brother for making his life even more difficult than it has to be (I have every sympathy with wwx but buddy... buddy must you make everything more complicated for your bro every darn time this is a real delicate political situation and he’s not suited for that even without your antics)

it’s a very nhs move because he comes across as slightly boorish and rude and thus leaves jc blameless and thus protected, you can get so far if you have no self respect lol  

- showing us exactly how wen ning died is honestly a little too mean this is not fun

- good god this poor grandma has been through the wringer hasn’t she

- oh. oh wen ning, who never meant hurt anyone in his entire life :(

- listen okay the end is in sight just a couple more horrific tragedies to get through and then it’s the weird romantic comedy buddy cop antics of the current day timeline to ride to the end

- it cannot be overemphasized how much this lan zhan is Baby, I so desperately want to help and protect him

- I’m going to stop shouting out individual actors on this show they’re all goddamn brilliant haha (but am I tho)

- most valid person in the cultivation world mianmian

also enjoying the exemplification of nmj’s character that is ‘not sure how I feel about this dumb kid with the big mouth digging his own grave ever deeper but that girl’s got guts and I respect that’

- wen quing is getting a taste of the dangers and pitfalls of having wwx as a little brother dfhskdalfhsdaklj she and jyl should compare notes (he’s so good tho T-----T)

- how does wwx’s actor have such natural dad energy at such a young age, too powerful

- people give so little thought to how fucked up jc’s situation really is here, like he’s just being an asshole for the sake of it. spend three fucking seconds looking at it with some realpolitik in mind and realize that the clans around him have just shown that they can and will wipe out an enemy clan together if need be, and that his own sect hasn’t even gotten back on its feet after the war that almost wiped it out. like wwx is unquestionably morally right but has gone about it in such a way that it’s real fucking hard to support him without going down with him and how do you calculate that risk when you’re responsible for so many more lives than your own

also so sad about jc being so afraid this entire time that wwx would leave him like everyone else... and now he has :( jc doesn’t handle it well but then who would at this stage

- there is something so pure about a quietly horrified lan zhan getting Dad Advice from these guys (well he’s going to be needing it soon enough so)

oh the utter softness of his face looking at wwx and ah yuan ;_______; thank god, some fluff to bolster my heart before we set off into the last harrowing ordeal here

LAN ZHAN’S ENTIRE FACE LIGHTING UP AT WEI YING ASKING HIM OUT thank fuck there’s still some joy left in the universe

this poor love struck man, someone help him  

lan zhan conscientiously grabbing ah yuan’s toys is fskhdfksjdlfhskjdhf

- lan zhan looking around the demon subduing cave: babe I love you more than life itself but this is tacky as hell

- crying because wen niiiiiing

- crying because sibliiiiiings

okay this is the last time the three of them will be together and nominally happy, need to appreciate it through my tears

- actually I take it back please just let the bad thing happen now so I don’t have to live in suspense anymore lol (...this probably says a lot more about me as a person than I’m strictly comfortable with)

- the fact that none of wwx’s little adopted wen family are AT ALL intimidated by him anymore is just... it’s too much to bear

again tho this book/show is so willing to let you dwell in the emotional stages of things in a very fanfic sort of way, I think it’s what makes the sad parts so much worse (and makes you feel so incredibly attached to these characters)

- I gUESS it’s a testament to jin zixuan’s character that he has any decency at all, considering who his dad is and where he was raised

I’m cracking up at their dad being the one who still doesn’t trust jgy tho lol snake recognizes snake

- jgy’s faint look of ‘are you fucking kIdDiNg me rn’ whenever all these jin douchebags talk is very entertaining. if he didn’t go on to do all that murder and incest and (probably) infanticide I’d sort of cheer for him no matter what kind of sociopath he is

- not to be a downer or anything but isn’t one month a little premature to be celebrating the survival of a baby in fantasy old timey china tho

sometimes I feel like looking back at history is just seeing a whole lot of dead children (and this is why I think that even if god did exist it would be morally inconceivable to worship him! sorry just a quick detour into my personal grudge against the inherent cruelty of the world there, let’s move on)

- it’s uncomfortable to watch even the outlines of the jin sect’s slow insidious stranglehold on power. even these random shopgoing nobodies know that nmj is Not Happy about these watchtowers and that it’s probably going to happen anyway. the jin are snakes but at least they’re clever about it and I do kind of respect that

- oh everything’s about to go so wrong I hate it

NOOOOO don’t make the zombie baby fight, nothing good will come of this

- man this is hitting me worse than lotus pier actually I’m just... crying haha

it’s almost cathartic tho... there’s something about wen quing’s dignity and certainty that really helps? I just really wish they hadn’t brought the whole little group, god I want them to be okay so badly and ah yuan will be all that’s left and. and just throw me into the ocean and let me sink tbh

- I know this is all so much black cgi smoke (pls let us see the red version again at some point btw that was cool as shit) but the emotional metaphor of wwx that you can’t take on more and more of other people’s suffering and trauma and not care for yourself because you will lose control of that at some point is just. very nicely done. (he’s a bit of an odd serial codependent for a lot of the story, isn’t he. thank god lan zhan is not a quitter)

- jin zixuan’s mom is breaking my heart a little here. this lady has been married to THAT GUY all this time and now this as well. sorry lady, I guess jgy probably Took Care Of You at some stage after this

- a) this is just real good acting for wwx. this is the perfect level of unhinged for this, even though I’m always like ‘just. just shut your mouth for one time in your life and stop digging this grave any deeper six feet should be enough for anyone huh’ at this stage of the story and b) I am cackling inappropriately at the shot-reverse-shots between wwx, jiang cheng and jgy. jiang cheng looks like everything he ever loved is falling apart around him and jgy is like ‘oh wow I didn’t even have to provide him any rope he’s doing an excellent job at hanging himself without me’

I love wwx so much but it did take him an unconscionable length of time to realize that when you set big enough things into motion you will not be able to control who it crushes along the way or who might steer it in the wrong direction. other people exist and have agency and a lot of those people are bad honey :(

- ah yes lwj being stopped by a barrier made of the physical manifestation of wwx’s trauma when he tries to reach him :’) this is okay and cool and fine    

- it’s admirably obtuse of everyone to look at wwx at this stage and still think he’s in control of uh anything lol

- oh okay that went better than expected I don’t know if I’m just inured to sadness at this point

jiang cheng looking like a little boy clutching his big sister’s body is tugging at my heartstrings a bit tho

- ooooh this battle hardened intense lwj!!! I guess I can sort of see it now

- oh lan zhan 2, electric boogaloo

- finally! time for some comfort up in this hurt

- my man nmj still so fucking angry in the afterlife that anything even remotely connected to him is shaking with rage in sympathy in the real world. a mood

- fdsahfsjdklfhsdajk wwx being like ‘I can take everyone saying I was evil but how DARE you not mention I was also a snacc’

- when do you think nie huaisang really realized that his brother wouldn’t have children and that he was up for the sect leader seat next? nie mingjue seems to have known pretty far in advance himself and tried to prepare his brother accordingly, but that kid really didn’t want the job so I imagine he’d try to live in denial as long as possible

vaguely related: no other family is ever mentioned by either brother or anyone else, and nie huaisang straight out says that he is the only main disciple (I seem to remember and with the caveat that I might have misunderstood the translation) when there’s the talk of them being sent to the wen as hostages -- I suppose you sort of have to be very selective when your ancestral cultivation method is sketchy enough that you should keep that shit on the down low and you know people die young from it. so I think it’s possible if not probable that huaisang is the last of his family. isn’t that a fun little thing to think about? haha. ha. help me  

- this random street vendor is an unexpected strong comedy performance, every face he makes is pure gold

- fkshafkjsdhfasd best introduction of adult nhs

- the quiet luminous love on lwj’s face whenever he looks at wwx in the present... give this man all the awards. it’s nice that wwx gets to be scared and childish and vulnerable with someone who loves him no matter what too, he’s been through some shit

- oh okay I see so the reason they chose to make fatal journey the way they did was because they already had the set built

- *nhs dropping one set of robes like that one gif from anastasia to reveal another even more luxuriously dandy-ish set under it* oh wow what a surprise to see you two down here, coincidences amirite (anyway here’s the testament to all the sins of my ancestors & a trail of breadcrumbs to lead you to the murderer of my brother)

no wait that’s slightly later isn’t it. well the point still stands

- dead!nmj is truly a mood -- “I don’t know where I am, who I am or what the fuck just happened but I do know that I am PISSED OFF”

(actually in the book I found that almost comforting -- at least the dude got to spend his afterlife doing what he loved (i.e. being angry), but this more nuanced and sympathetic version being trapped like that just. makes me very very sad)

nice of him to stick around to play a few rounds of hot or cold with his little bro’s friends tho lol. I mean from what I understand of this take on canon it’s actually the spirit of his sword and not him in person? but close enough, let me keep him as long as I can okay

- jin ling getting his dumb ass cask of amontillado’d within ten minutes of entering the tomb smh

look at your ROBES young man what is your (other) uncle going to say??

- hAH what did I say. pedagogic mastermind jiang cheng at it again

enjoying the fact that they chose the floofiest most benign-looking of dogs to play this ~*terrifying hound*~ so much

I have a lot of sympathy for jiang cheng, and the actor is doing a good job at aging him up here (not as good as lwj’s but then you can’t beat perfection). the way he’s calcified into bitterness and anger b/c he can’t express his emotions in a healthy nuanced way feels very... real I guess, people get like that sometimes

- I am somehow really endeared to this version of jin ling. a dumb baby, but a baby

- poor lan zhan lol “I LEFT YOU ON YOUR OWN FOR TWO HOURS AND YOU ALREADY MANAGED TO TAKE ON SOMEONE ELSE’S CURSE??? BABE!!!!!!!”

he consistently uses jiang cheng’s personal name too huh. well it is his brother in law I guess ETA: actually I’m an idiot ignore/forgive me, that’s jiang cheng’s courtesy name isn’t it. lan wangji is being salty/maybe-deliberately-maybe-not-(but-definitely-tho) distant/polite with him I think 

- y’know... as I watch lwj carry the love of his life around on his back with all the tenderness in the world and I see people in the comments yell about why do you always need everything to be gay they’re just good friends you’re all crazy... I realize all over again that there really is no level of queerness they’ll ever find legitimate or acceptable. which like. feels bad, but there’s also the freedom in remembering they are always going to be assholes no matter what I do, there’s literally no need to listen to them at any time.

- I am CRACKING UP; watching this episode right after seeing fatal journey sure is a treat hahaha. nhs really must enjoy the acting on a deep level because he is hamming it up and I am living for it    

“It’s nothing at all like unorthodox demonic cultivation methods!” he protests with his big innocent doe eyes, having yelled the exact same accusation at his brother within ten seconds of finding out about it dsfdskjha

- awww that’s such a sweet way of telling nhs who he is while both of them still get plausible deniability :’)

this show is making it a LOT easier to figure out nhs’ deal earlier just through visual storytelling and his reactions when lwj and wwx aren’t looking, but I guess you sort of have to do that without the benefits of selective POVs that you can do in written stories

- lan zhan’s little smirks are such a blessing

- can we talk about how INCREDIBLY rude lwj and wwx are being barging into other people’s ancestral tombs like they own the place. I know I said break some rules lan zhan but there’s such a thing as common decency too at least wipe your feet at the entrance or something

stop being big bullies!!! (nhs actually sounds a little salty at how debonair they are being lol he’s like yeah you’re doing what I want you to but you don’t have to be such dicks about it)

- nooooooo nmj don’t die ur so sexy ahaha (I jest so I do not cry godddddd my heart big brother come baaaaaaack)

I’m honestly finding it very hard to live with knowing that the last thing nmj saw in life was jgy having his little brother in his clutches D:D:D: looking at it like that... of course he came back mad as fuck, I’d probably do the same thing

- boys boys I love and support you but could you maybe not stand around talking about how this was totally a horrific murder like the murderee’s little brother isn’t standing right there?? i mean it’s useful for him but it’s kind of mean of you, I know neither of you were raised in a barn  

okay there’s wwx irrepressible protective instinct that’s better. I just... nhs standing there looking small and sad and soft and lonely isn’t the whole truth but it is part of the whole truth, it’s nice to see wwx being like this even after all those years. (the physical closeness in their friendship in their youth in this version is so gooood. outside of wwx the only two people we see nhs consistently allow close or seek out closeness from is his brother and MENG YAO, who can frankly burn in hell even more than usual for the flute thing in fatal journey.)

- lan zhan contemplating the inherent impermanence of everything good in the world and then immediately getting blackout drunk -- MOOD. also I have never seen a scene where someone so obviously was about to press a soft kiss to someone’s forehead or cheek, don’t worry wwx I see you through the censorship lol

(it’s incredible how well they’ve adapted the love story considering the fact that they technically uh can’t)  

- wen ning: shambles, zombie-like and disheveled with horror movie monster eyes, into frame

all of us: omg a BABY ToT

- live action drunk lan zhan is living up to the hype I am  d y i n g

this poor repressed man

fjskdfsdkjhf he could do sword fighting in his damn sleep probably

I will say that leaving ‘wei wuxian was also here’ is going to scare the crap out of these poor people whose only crime was keeping well fed chickens

- they r so in love someone hold me

- this nmj!kid I am LOSING IT, this is so cute I want to lie face down on the floor and cry

- the yi city arc is my least favourite part of this story, so I’m fortifying myself to get through a couple of hours of sexy baby xue yang here

- Dad/troll teacher!wwx is in fact everything

- oooh wwx has the same weird crooked fingers as me when they’re extended! just some small Facts About Your Friendly Neighbourhood Blogger there

- this is not at all a bad take on ah quing! she qte

- ‘what’s your husband look like?’ song lan, crying: beautiful

- xxc you didn’t think it was a little weird the dude wouldn’t tell you his name -- even a name -- all this time. honestly

I know you’re in a bad place and this is sort of a rebound thing from your actual true love but stop letting him gaslight you like this buddy :(

- time for some MASSIVELY FORESHADOWING PARALLELS my friends

- I don’t know if I’m just a heartless monster but I honestly don’t care that much about anyone but ah quing in this little sideplot lol (probably my complete disinterest in xue yang tainting everything else)  

- xue yang and jgy: the ‘sad backstory dude still inexplicably extra mass murder’ club

- godddd I’m so bored I’ve listened to this guy cackle ~*madly and evilly*~ for three episodes now when will it fucking end

- lan jingjy you are VALID

- fhsdkfhsdkj can’t get over baxia being like ‘OI you two stop gazing soulfully into each other’s eyes for five seconds and get on with avenging me’

must be annoying spending your afterlife in a pouch third wheeling the two most obnoxiously in love people in the world, I think this spirit sword is being admirably restrained and patient all things considered

- big brother I am so sorry you had to hang out under there all this time while this boring bullshit plot happened above you ;________________________;

I’m actually not clear on what the nie sect does with the bodies of the dead -- the saber tomb seems to be exclusively for the weapons/we see that some of the cultivators will go down there while they’re still alive to sacrifice themselves... maybe they go in the walls? I guess nhs is breaking tradition in a lot of ways tho so who knows!

- ‘from what I’ve seen he’s not so bad’ wei ying he smilingly asked you to use POWs for target practice I’ll allow lxc to be this dumb but you really have no excuse

- this duckling in red is a gentleman and a bro, one to watch

- wwx seductively arranging himself in the open window to cover his panic fsdkjfhsda

- lot’s wife WISHES she had the level of salt jiang cheng does

- ‘if they ask me any weird questions I don’t know the answers to I’ll have to pretend to be a total psycho’

lan zhan, dragging his husband with one deadpan face: I’m sure that is going to be a huge feat of acting for you babe

- NIE HUAISANG FALLING INTO FRAME AND LAUNCHING HIMSELF FROM ONE PERSON TO ANOTHER LIKE A GORMLESS WET RAG, I STAN ONE (1) BOY

‘but new problems appeared’  how is he such a mood

again tho you can give your unknowing accomplices so much space to investigate if you just don’t bother with self respect or dignity at any stage of the journey lol

- fjshdfkjlsahd that beat of lan zhan clearly taking a moment to contemplate the idea of wei ying confessing his love naked in public there

- uncle and nephew bonding time T________________T  

- fsakfhsadkjlfhsad I can’t deal with this mission impossible ass music in the background as a little paper gingerbread man scoots around the palace

whoever animated this was clearly having a lot of fun, I love the little details like his dangling legs and him rubbing his lil paper bum after landing

- poor qin su, one of the most screwed over people in this whole show. at least in the book he didn’t mean to

- ah su, you’re being very unreasonable about this, what is a little incest between friends

- straight culture is this being chill to keep in the adaptation but god forbid anyone got a loving queer kiss at any point (not blaming the showrunners at all, they’re clearly stretching the limits as far as they will go and maybe a bit more at a few points)

- YES SISTER CALL HIM THE FUCK OUT I always felt like she’s known something was a little off for a long time but never could put her finger on what exactly

- ‘can you still not let me go’ hey jgy you piece of shit who’s keeping whose head in a weird serial killer cabinet here

- THANK YOU FOR BRINGING HIS HANDSOME ALIVE FACE BACK TO MY SCREEN IF ONLY TO MAKE ME SAD

- he’s so beautiful and righteous and strong 😭😭😭😭 dage come back to us

(makes even more sense that he’s so pissed off about what jgy did if he’s already shown clearly that he’ll shut down the people fucking with him if it’s brought to his attention. he gave you every opportunity you little oh-it’s-never-really-my-fault worm of a man)

- another nmj about to cry warning needed here help me

dON’T FUCKING TOUCH HIM YOU SLIMY FSKJLDHFKSJDHFSKDJLHF

the nie traits are undying loyalty, rage, and the intergenerational trauma of watching your parental figures succumb to death and madness through the same cultivation path you practice

- my cause of death: nmj’s eyes shining with unshed tears

this version has that edge of vulnerability to him, you suddenly do realize he was once just a kid watching his dad die a horrifying death and then having to take on all that responsibility and raising his brother

nie boys unfailingly devoted to the people under their protection I’m gonna go bury myself under a tree or something

- I’ve had to turn the volume down so I can barely hear anything b/c my emotions are too big to for my dumb body to contain already I can’t listen to this

- extremely sad but also a little funny that part of the reason nmj died was that he had no interest whatsoever in the arts. ‘music is music right?’ says local jock

- I’ve just been whimpering the last twenty minutes this is awful

- huaisang’s voice breaking on ‘big brother, it’s me’... sdlakhgsdjklfhsadjkghsdkjlfhdskljhgsdalkhgsdklgjhsdjklhgkdjslhgjskd I’m going to the bottom of the mariana trench and I’m staying there goodbye

- I can’t wait to watch nie huaisang end this putrid trash man’s whole career in the most devastating way possible tbh

- I’m just so SAD T______________________________T I hate jgy so much my heart burns with it I’m so glad he’s about to get some dramatic irony shoved up his -- but I digress

- haha poor jin ling standing there watching all this messed up shit like ‘O.O thanks i’m nine’

- I wish I was as good at passing the fuck out on command as nhs, I feel like it would solve a lot of my problems

- just some low key soulmate shit no biggie

- wwx is basically fantasy old timey naked again here the SCANDAL except no scandal they’re clearly married

- wwx is being so much more patient with lxc than I would have found it in my heart to be at this stage. he’s like ‘lxc you are my brother in law and I truly appreciate you and everything you’ve done for me but it’s sadly up to me to gently confront you with all the ways you’ve been a dumb ho just b/c you think jgy has pretty dimples 😔’

- “You’re not qualified to talk to me” oh lwj I love you so much. I thought committing murder was forbidden by the lan sect rules but there you go  

- it honestly baffles me that some people think nmj would be the strictest parental figure in this universe when a) everything about huaisang suggests otherwise and b) lan qiren is right there

madam yu has that ‘super unforgiving to her son’s face but will also tear anyone criticizing him a new one’ mixed energy too  

- lqr: I raised a perfect obedient righteous cultivator

me & wei ying: you’ve ruined a perfectly good boy is what you did look at him he’s too repressed to breathe

- well their dad clearly paid enough attention to worldly matters that two kids resulted from it, I’m not quite sure where we’re going with this lxc

one’s an accident two’s a pattern etc.

- wow I was so confused about ‘confidante’ being used here b/c it makes absolutely no sense in context, and the comments helpfully informed me that it’s more accurately translated to ‘soulmate’ or something like that; that does make a whole lot more sense yeah

- bb!lan zhan kneeling in the snow is more than anyone’s supposed to have to live with tbh

- lxc being like ‘so yeah my brother will keep loving people long after they’re gone and unable to give him love back! just a fun fact there, something to think about anyway here’s wonderwall’

- soft, ever-so-slightly messy haired at home lan zhan deserves the world

- oh wwx’s shift away from thinking the truth doesn’t matter at all to realizing the truth of you being held fully and with love by one person in your life is enough as lwj plays their song ;______________________________; this is almost more romantic than a kiss scene would be honestly jesus christ  

- little apple is the best of us tbh

- apologies but they have 100% started to fuck off-screen at this stage, the looks wei ying is giving him dsafasdfhsjkd

- I take it back mianmian and little apple are the best of us

- imagine just finding the light bearing lord, second peerless jade of lan in his immaculate white clothes, peeking out from between your hay bales one day

- the exponential increase in lan zhan’s blessed little smiles lately: my oh-they-fawking thesis is validated yet again

- wei ying lying through his teeth: of course I remembered your face at once who do you take me for  

(lan zhan: smirks in quiet satisfaction)

- walejhgskdjhgsjdaklfhsadjkflafhsjakdsf wen ning is so cute I don’t know what to do with myself

- wei ying this is where you first asked him out of course he remembers

- lan zhan is like ‘oh shit I forgot to tell him about our son and at this point I’m kind of embarrassed to bring it up’

- I am NOT thinking about the lotus pond they made for him here, you can’t make me

- ‘the worst time in their lives’ yeah, but there was such love there too. it  h u r t s 

- the actor for wen ning is so good at making his expressions look deeply earnest but also a little uncanny, like moving his face doesn’t come naturally to him anymore but his Good Boyness shines through

- DRAGGED in public by his own son. rip wwx he had a good run of it before his untimely murder

- wow thank goodness sect leader yao survived all this time, his death would as we all know have been a huge loss to society as a whole

- “I’m just here to round up the numbers” I love him more than I can convey to you in words

I’m a simple person, I hear nhs’ chronically befuddled voice and a burst of pure joy is released in my heart

sdfhjksadhfsad his soft little 😕 face peeking out from behind people’s shoulders fkjsdhfsdjal

- will I ever get enough of nhs masterfully manipulating a situation through his own apparent cowardliness and uselessness? no is the answer to that it’s always entrancing to watch

nhs as a teacher, nodding sagely as his disciples exchange glances: it’s never too late to go home instead of going big. saying ‘fuck this i’m outta here’ is always an option

- also nhs seemingly doesn’t use a saber at all anymore, where he at least used to have one back in fatal journey times. I’m very happy he’s trying some new things, time to break that very sad traumatic chain of dying young and furious

also him getting someone else to do the work of fixing the ward or whatever fskdfhaskdlf

teacher nhs, waving his pupils away b/c he’s busy painting or something: class dismissed. and remember, if at all possible, get someone else to do your homework for you. as long as you don’t get caught that’s an automatic A

- wwx is literally the cat surrounded by knives meme here lol

- lol lol lol wwx just removed his outer tunic thing to reveal lan zhan’s undershirt still under there and you can see lan qiren silently seethe with ‘that little hussy has seduced my nephew away from the righteous path’

(do I personally believe in slut shaming of any kind? nah it’s dumb as fuck. do I think lqr does? yeah)

- hahaha I can’t tell if nhs’ slightly glazed look here is b/c wwx did something he didn’t plan for him to do or if it’s because he’s for all intents and purposes half naked in front of them. (tbh I think there’s a case to be made in this version that he has a sort of wistful would-never-act-on-it-for-a-million-different-reasons-lan-zhan’s-furious-jealous-stare-being-foremost-of-them crush on both wwx and lwj from back when they were teens)

- WOW all these dicks inviting themselves to lotus pier!!! r u d e

- lan zhan flexing on lan qiren by raising a happy well adjusted child even while he’s mourning the love of his life: what like it’s hard

- wen ning kept that toy for sixteen goddamn years don’t touch me

- I’m crying about jin ling give me a moment. he is baby okay he’s even younger than ah yuan by at least four years

the image of him hugging the only thing he’s got left of his dad... fsdalkfhasdjlkfhsjdakhfsjdk

- lan sizhui has a crowd of good uncles/dads and poor jin ling has a crowd of utter disaster uncles and it’s very unfortunate (yes wwx is on both of those lists)

it is very sweet that it’s jiang cheng who consistently actually looks out for him, even in his feelings-wtf-are-feelings sort of way. the least disaster uncle, but only by comparison lol

- I think this ouyang kid might be duckling in red from before? LOVING the interspersed nhs reaction shots to him, anyway fsakdfh (I’m going to make it sad: how many conversations like this do you think he had with his brother as a kid? that’s fine we can both cry now I don’t want to be alone in this)

- ‘mr ning’ im Y___________________________________Y

- extremely Here for yet another full costume change from nhs hahaha (he’s changed at the boat already, god knows how he pulled that off but I’d expect no less from him)

- nhs must have been a sect leader for at least a decade at this point, and he still manages to exude such a powerful ‘kid at the adult’s table’ aura. incredible. mindblowing, inspirational

- ...oh they went with the same version of the previous jin leader’s death huh (but GOD FORBID that anyone should be openly gay amirite lol) O___O again though WHY is jin ling here, jiang cheng??????? he’s like sixteen, he’s never going to dare to even kiss anyone after this

- nhs has the look of a man who’s had to sit on this disgusting knowledge alone for years and finally gets to share that icky burden around, merry christmas everyone if I have to know about this so do you

- I don’t know if this is just me imagining things or reading more into it than what’s there, but I think nhs is actually sitting in the same pose his brother used to a lot in this part of the scene (the upright posture with palms resting at the top of the thighs/hips, fingers turned inwards/towards each other; it looks sort of... solid and self-contained, I guess)

- I would call jgy knowingly committing the incest character assassination if he’d had enough character to assassinate even in the book, I would never have put it past him

- y’know... god knows nmj had flaws (I think my immense depth of love for him in this version comes precisely from how hard he tries even while being deeply flawed. him dumb but him always trying :’) well actually he’s not dumb at all, he’s shown to be pretty darn politically savvy, I’m just having a hard time finding the right word here. ‘inflexible’ is maybe closer ), but the big defining difference between him and jin guangyao (and consequently xue yang) is that both of the latter are completely open about the fact that they see themselves as more important than anyone else -- xue yang considers one of his fingers worth more than fifty people’s lives, jgy kills twenty sex workers as a mere afterthought to his own revenge on his father. meanwhile nmj gets Messed Up by people dying under his protection to the degree that he came up with one of the dumbest plans I’ve ever heard just so he’d be the only one at risk, just so no one else would get hurt anymore. hmnghsjhfs.   

- wen ning, proudly: my sister was the best doctor in the world 

me, openly crying: she sure was buddy

- wwx: hey lan zhan are there any sweet patient lan ladies with an open mind around

lwj: ...why

wwx: I just think our zombie son should start thinking about getting friends, maybe even a real home

lwj, subtly relieved: oh

- JIN LING BABY BOY NOOOO D:D:D:

- nhs I need you to come in and end this man I cannot look at his awful face anymore

- ugh this garrotte sound effect is really unpleasant actually well done

- THERE HE IS!!! conveniently swooning his way into the scene again, my guy ;_______; smol and soft-looking and about to utterly obliterate a man on every conceivable level 

I love every moment of the camera dwelling meaningfully on his innocent vulnerable face, this is going to be so great 

it’s too bad he’s a behind the curtain sort of dude, I would kill for a poirot-style ‘I’m sure you’re all wondering why I’ve gathered you here in the library’ moment here lol

- tbh jiang cheng’s got a point about that whole ‘making huge sweeping decisions about someone else’s life and never telling them about it’ thing

wwx has sort of structured himself as a person so that you’ll never be allowed to really reciprocate his dedication and sacrifices (unless you’re lz lol), and while that is a very sympathetic trauma reaction essentially it is sort of a dick move interpersonally.

- the weight and wisdom that comes along with the scars of older wwx... you love to see it

- nhs, with effortless grace, rousing from his disney princess slumber just as the real drama’s about to begin... your honor he is simply the best

-  T__________________________________________________________T big brother 

- the tinge of coldness in nhs’ eyes while he watches jgy through this whole scene even as he keeps up the ‘im baby don’t worry about me’ act.............. fashdfjlksdahfslkadj, not to say askfksjhafkjsldhfkjsalhfksjaldhfkls

- to say that jgy has perhaps ‘gone overboard with this’ might be the biggest understatement of any century lxc

- watching him kneel by his brother’s coffin here I’d like to propose that Nie Huaisang has exactly the same capacity for all-consuming rage as the rest of his family, except he can’t just vent it by hitting something real hard with a haunted murder saber so he has to get creative and that was real unfortunate for Jin Guangyao  

- one thing that’s always tickled me is that nhs did give jgy the choice. the people around him -- the people he claims to love -- could have been left out of it, no dishonor being brought to either his name or any of theirs... if he’d been willing to sacrifice himself. (probably a gambit where he knew that was never going to happen, but still!)

- nhs standing there in the background like ‘yeah yeah we all have horrifying family legacies buddy, we just don’t knowingly marry our sisters or arrange for mass murders over it’  

- arguably killing the previous jin leader could actually count as a good deed if not for the horrifying way he did it lol. jgy all over, he could have done something helpful, *john mulaney voice* and then he didn’t he just killed nineteen innocent women while he was on a roll instead

- while it’s sort of bullshit that some responsibility is taken away from wwx in jin zixuan’s death here it’s also making a bit more sense to me like this -- seems like an uncharacteristic gamble from jgy to just idk hope wwx would lose control at exactly the right/wrong moment. wwx is still at fault for how casually he treated wen ning as a weapon when he didn’t know what the consequences could be, I’m okay with this

- jin ling and the terrible horrible no good very bad week :( protect him

wow lan xicheng let’s stand around some more letting this awful excuse for a person tell this sixteen year old boy that his parents deserved to be murdered basically, I’m sure there’s a lot more fruitful discussion still left to be had here  

- talk shit about nie mingjue’s brother get hit su she hell YEAHHHHHH

big brother still looking out for him I’m fsdklfhajsdlhf 😭😭😭

- I’M SO FULL OF FEELINGS ;________________________________; at least in this version the implication feels more like he’s finally at peace? (hilariously wwx managed to purge/cleanse the saber spirit, which is the entire conflict of fatal journey haha, nhs really did get his best friend to do his homework for him yet again, INSPIRATIONAL)

- HELL YEAH FINALLY GET REKT YOU PIECE OF SHIT! PRESS F TO PAY RESPECT EXCEPT JOKE’S ON YOU I’VE GOT NO RESPECT TO PAY

They did do away with any and all ambiguity around nhs here and I’m totally cool with it, that was awesome

- I’m playing the world’s tiniest little violin right now, wow much sad fuck you and your dumb hat

- may I just say that the fact that jgy uses his last moments on earth to make lxc, a person he proclaims to love, feel as bad as possible about his now inevitable death even though it clearly wasn’t really his fault... is just proof that he has never actually loved anyone at all except possibly himself 

contrast with wwx, who tells jc that he’s sorry, dries his tears in the here and now and says to let the past go because there’s nothing either of them can do about it now and there’s no point in hurting themselves over it again and again anymore. jgy has the opportunity to give a similar kindness here and instead twists and twists the knife, so lxc will be in as much pain as possible when he’s gone. he’d rather be kept alive in lxc’s suffering than let him, someone he ‘loves’, ever heal and be happy. anyway I hope hell is real shitty for you jgy

- jgy you absolute piece of shit you couldn’t let my man have TEN FUCKING MINUTES to nap in peace? after sixteen years of your fuckery? urgh bye  

- nhs looking at lxc sadly when lxc can’t see him... one last ‘I don’t know’ finally closing out his arc... I love all of this so much, there’s such a nuance of... he is genuinely a bit sad about causing lxc pain but he also doesn’t regret what he did At All. (I guess most of what he’s done must be pretty easy to rationalize/justify to himself, since the vast majority of his work went into finding the horrible shit jgy has done and showing them the way home to roost, rather than creating fresh suffering from scratch. and then there’s also the whole mo family but uh well eggs omelettes amirite lol)   

- lan qiren telling people not to run or talk loudly b/c they’re at a temple, even under these circumstances fhakjsldfhkjsdafhkjsaldhf 

- god the casting people for this show have a perfect track record of finding heartwrenchingly cute kids my GOD

- jfdsafhaskdjfh I love how they’ve done the moment with the hat -- the way the flashback sort of indicates that nhs does recognize on a deep level that the dude he just killed was someone’s son, was after all once an innocent child, like anyone... and again, it doesn’t make him regret it. he looks tired and sort of empty, but not like he’d take any of it back. he’s seen jgy for all that he was, good and bad, and made his decision. his reaction to seeing his hands ever so slightly stained with blood is mostly ‘...eh sure’ (and he knows none of this will ever bring his brother back and I am HURTING) . just. I love him so much what an interesting character 

- lan zhan raised a child who can talk about his feelings, unprecedented & wondrous 

who’s chopping onions in here

- never getting over ah yuan being the best person in the world at roasting his dad 

- okay okay okay I’m going to have some incoherent feelings here -- the expression on nhs’ face right after wwx asks him if he intends to be chief cultivator is just... hm. how do I describe this. it looks almost like he’s thinking ‘oh yeah I forgot you don’t actually know me anymore (yeah okay that’s my bad)’? the previous scene is about lwj and wwx, The symbolic representation of true love in this world, naming each other/knowing each other for exactly who and what they are. that’s the thematic victory in this story; to be truly known, accepted and loved for the entirety of who you are, if only by one person in your whole life. (notably all sorts of love, parental, familial, platonic etc., not just romantic/sexual) and to get his victory, nhs has had to completely forsake that because his whole plan hinged on it; he hasn’t been emotionally honest with anyone for well over a decade at this point. no one really knows or understands him, and if someone ever did he’s long dead now and never coming back. and in this one moment both wwx and nhs seem to come to the quiet understanding that neither of them are who they used to be as kids and it’ll never be like it used to be again, and reach a sort of live-and-let-live truce about it.  d u d e this goddamn story 

(after all part of the reason jgy is so incredibly terrified of nmj is that he’s the first person to see straight through his bullshit to who he is behind it, and that it’s u g l y  back there. jgy + nmj = being known without being accepted or loved (b/c honestly he doesn’t deserve to be loved or accepted yeah there we go I said it), jgy + lxc = being accepted and loved without being known, which turns into disaster all around.)

- man this was actually a really solid adaptation, it was excellently done! they did rush a bit towards the end there (it was never explained why jgy didn’t kill sissi along with all the other sex workers in this version, for example, leaving a rather substantial plot hole, and they never reveal why exactly lan zhan had to take over as sect leader which breaks off lxc’s arc at the end), but all in all that was wonderful and even added some stuff I liked better than in the book! now please god never let mtxt write a sequel, just let them be in this happily ever after, all of them have been through enough ;________;

- also the music was truly epic! I don’t even begrudge them using some parts more often and blatantly than what’s probably necessary, I want to wallow in this love theme as much as the next person lol

- what am I going to do with hours upon hours of my life now? I don’t know either, I suppose I will just have to find some way to hobble on 

#the untamed #mo dao zu shi #wangxian #nie brothers #(b/c predictably that's what most of my feelings boil down to lol) #meta #I think I might have outdone myself with this; this is a new height of aimless unproductive nonsense even for me lol #I did this instead of working on the edit of the fic I've got nearly finished because... I don't know either guys I just don't know

[hartigays]

45: they’re drunk laying under the stars hehe

45. “Tell me a secret.”

billy takes a swig of his beer, followed by a drag off his cigarette. he’s reclined back in the grass, looking up at the multitudes of stars twinkling above.

“‘s fucking crazy,” steve says suddenly, looking over at him from where he’s lounging on the ground next to him. “there’s so many.”

“told you,” billy replies, smiling softly. “best seats in the house.”

steve blinks back up a the sky, the ghost of a smile still on his lips. but he looks a little more distant, a faraway look on his face.

billy pauses, waiting to see if he’ll speak. when steve doesn’t say anything, he asks, “what’re you thinking about?”

“i dunno,” steve answers, after another quite pause. “just makes you feel kinda small. there’s so much out there and we’re just...here.”

“don’t go having an existential crisis on me, harrington. i’m too drunk for that shit.”

steve laughs, a sound that seems to bubble up from deep within his chest. a moment later, he sobers, peering over at billy with those big brown eyes of his.

“tell me a secret,” he insists. he’s still looking at billy with watchful eyes. it makes billy feel warm.

“what kind of secret?” billy asks. his throat feels a little tight with steve’s eyes still burning into his.

“any kind.”

billy has a number of things he could talk about. california, his newfound friendship with max, his mother. or why he sometimes can’t sneak out of the house on weekends, when neil is in one of his moods.

or, more importantly, how looking into steve’s big brown doe-eyes makes his heart do a funny dance behind his ribcage. how steve and his infinite well of gentle kindness makes billy feel warm from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. how steve really just makes him want to be a better person.

instead, he says, stupidly, “i don’t really have any secrets.”

“everyone has secrets,” steve says softly, rolling his eyes. but he has a soft smile that’s just on the side of blissfully drunk. “i’ll tell you one of mine. i’m in love.”

billy’s stomach sinks. he looks back up at the stars, swallowing thickly. “that’s not a very good secret, harrington.”

“‘course it is,” steve objects. billy can still see him looking over at him out of the corner of his eye. “you didn’t even ask who it is.”

“do i even want to know?” billy asks. his head is still a little mushy from the copious amount of beer he’s consumed in the last few hours.

“i think so. or at least, i hope.”

billy looks over at him, surprised to find that he’s shifted just a bit closer. his big eyes are still zeroed on on billy, warm and earnest. the desire to lean in and kiss him hits billy the same way it always does - like a punch to the gut.

“is it someone i know?” billy dares to ask after a moment of consideration.

“oh, for sure,” steve tells him. “real good looking. kind of a hothead, but better about it now than in the past. directs it only at assholes who deserve it. drives a really fucking cool car, too. rolls up in that camaro all smooth and shit, and it makes my insides feel all funny and warm. makes me laugh like no one else, jesus christ. i think about him all the time. especially when he’s not around, but even when he is.”

billy’s mind and heart are both racing. he doesn’t - he hadn’t planned for this. hadn’t had any time to brace himself, or thinking of something to say, or figure out how exactly he wants the situation to go.

his heart? it wants billy to pull steve into his arms and kiss him until his lips are numb. but his brain knows that this is dangerous. he’s still in that fucking house with neil, still in this shitty small town where he sees god hates fags written in any given bathroom stall. still terrified to accept that he’s never going to feel for a girl the way he’s always felt for men.

he can’t think clearly. billy stands, trying to clear his head, but being upright just makes him realize how drunk he actually is. he stumbles a little farther down the hill. falters after a moment, flopping down and putting his head between his legs, taking deep, steady breaths.

a moment later, he hears steve stop a few paces behind him before sitting quietly. neither of them say anything for a long time.

“are you okay?” steve finally asks, his voice soft. tentative.

“i don’t...” billy trails off, looking skyward. cursing whatever god may exist for putting him into this world like this, all screwed up and broken. “i can’t do this.”

“that’s okay.” steve’s voice is still soft, gentle. but it’s tinged with sadness, breaking billy’s heart right in half. “if you don’t feel the same, billy, that’s okay. i understand, i promise.”

billy whips around, setting his jaw. “what? that’s not - steve. no. i fuckin’ - you’re all i think about. all day, all the time. i’m - i mean, shit. i’m crazy about you.”

the look on steve’s face is so relieved, so bright and joyful, that it makes billy’s heart ache to reach out to him.

he doesn’t.

“thank god,” steve sighs, laughing a little hysterically. “thank fucking god. but i don’t...i’m not understanding the problem, then.”

“christ, steve, be realistic. how would you suggest we do this?” billy asks. “it’s not like i can be with you the way you want all the time. it’d - we’d be a secret. i couldn’t hold your hand in public, or kiss you in the movie theater. i can’t take you to dinner, or even carry your fuckin’ books to class. we’d have to hide, from everyone. you deserve better than that.”

“billy,” steve starts, looking at him with sad eyes. “it doesn’t matter to me who knows. that’s not why - i want to be with you because you make me happy. just. knowing that you’re mine would be enough.”

“but for how long?” billy is begging him to understand, to see the issue here. it’s not sustainable. “how long will it be enough for you? eventually, you’ll get sick of the hiding. and the secrets and the pretending. if you - if i ever lost you, because of that, i don’t think i could handle that.”

“billy, i don’t...” steve trails off, then sighs. “i get it. i do. i’m sorry i made this harder for you. i just - i wanted you to know how i felt. that every time you look at me, like i’m - like i’m something special, or important, i’m looking at you, too. even when you don’t see it.”

billy makes this soft noise of distress. steve looks like he’s about to break into a thousand tiny little pieces, and billy can’t handle that.

he literally crawls up the hill, getting rid of the distance between them. sits on his knees in front of steve.

“i don’t think you fully understand, just - fuck. just how my much i want to give you everything you need,” billy pleads, willing him to understand why he can’t. “but you - you’re good, steve. you should be with someone who can actually be with you.”

“but i don’t care about who i should be with. i want you. i’m in love with you. we could just - we could go. somewhere else. somewhere we could be together.”

“where would we go?” billy asks, quietly. “we’ll always be freaks to them. wherever we go, it doesn’t matter. they’ll never treat us like we’re normal.”

“then why not just say fuck it, then?” steve demands, suddenly determined. “if they’re never going to accept us, then why keep trying? why not just fucking do what we want?”

steve makes a very good point. so good, in fact, that billy feels a bit dumbfounded.

“i...” billy trails off, his brain firing on all cylinders.

“you don’t have to. if you don’t want to.” steve reaches out, hesitating for a moment before taking his hand. “but we could. say fuck it, i mean. i don’t care what anyone else says. as long as i have you - as long as we have each other, we’ll be alright.”

billy squeezes his hand in his, then finally, finally nods. steve practically sobs out this desperate cry of relief, flinging his arms around billy and burying his face into his neck.

billy’s arms go around him immediately, holding him tight. he breathes in steve’s scent, letting it wash over him and calm the rapid beating of his heart.

“i’m sorry,” he mumbles into steve’s hair. “i’m so sorry.”

steve pulls back, shaking his head. his cheeks are tear-streaked and billy wants to lean in and kiss away every last one. but steve beats him to it. he presses his lips to billy’s. kisses him a little desperately, practically climbing into his lap for better access.

billy doesn’t have any complaints. he lets steve hold him close, lets steve kiss him until he can’t remember what it feels like to be apart from him. he lets steve kiss him until he has to pull back to breathe, resting his forehead against steve’s.

steve toys with one of billy’s curls, looking into his eyes, almost going a little cross-eyed. he giggles and pulls back a bit. “want to keep watching the stars?”

billy just shakes his head, pressing a soft kiss to steve’s jaw.

“nah. i’ve got the perfect view right here.”

#forehead touches AGAIN #we love that for them #thank u for the request bab 🥰💖 #harringrove #my fics #ask #uncle-keery