#okay let's say some people just don't get god's grace for whatever reason | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

aki-bara · 12 days

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I NEED to know about Puddle Percy!

LMAO. Okay. This one's really weird...

Okay.

The concept is Percy dies. But not really.

What is death? Is it the destruction of your body or is it something else?

Percy's body is destroyed by a god in a display of power. In a last minute effort to save Percy's life Poseidon ties his soul (for lack of a better word) to some water of insubstantial size.

What do you think it felt like to Thalia to become a tree? Was she conscious of it? Probably not, trees doesn't have senses like humans do.

Here's the thing, Percy is connected to water. He can feel it in a way other people can't. His power allows him manipulate his new form, but he can't perceive things the way he used to.

One thing he does have is his connection to Annabeth. He can communicate with her, and only her through a psychic link. Since Percy's the sort to hold back his true feelings this presents its own challenges.

One thing I'm just now realizing is this can kind of be read as an allegory for chronic illness? Percy loses a lot of independence in the story and becomes very restricted in his abilities. He becomes completely dependent on Annabeth to experience the world the way he used to, and even that is through an altered lense.

The story is basically about Percy struggling to cope with his sudden lack of agency and Annabeth struggling to support him. Obviously the goal would be for him to get his body back, but who knows if that's even possible.

An unedited except can be found below.

They had tried talking Hera up, brought gifts to get in her good graces, bowed before her and begged her to let them marry and still she had refused. They had continued to try and persuade her only to be met with scorn and insults until finally both of them snapped. Annabeth scowled, expression furious.

“We didn't know we needed your approval for the court documents.” She said, not bothering to keep the anger from her voice. This she said in response to Hera's claim that they'd disrespected her too much to make up for it now.

“What you do or do not know is not my concern. Marriage is my domain and I will be respected.”

“What have you ever done to earn respect!”

Hera's eyes boiled with rage. Percy didn't know what Hera was about to do, but he didn't want Annabeth to be the focus of her attention when she did it.

“We just want to get married,” he pleaded, trying to distract Hera from Annabeth's words. “What's so wrong about that?”

“The problem isn't with marriage itself, but rather the ones attempting it.”

Percy tried to push down his anger, but didn't manage it cometely. “You toyed with us for months, never mentioning what you would or wouldn't allow.”

“You and every other half-blood knows the gods demand tribute. Don't act like your wasted time is my fault when it's your own simple-minds that are to blame.”

Percy's blood boiled. It was her fault if they failed because of her meddling. He didn't say that. He didn't want to argue. He only wanted to be married to Annabeth.

“Please, my lady, tell us what we must do to make up for this grave offense.” He tried very hard not to sound sarcastic as he said it, and felt that he mostly succeeded. Despite his reverent tone, Hera's eyes narrowed.

“There is nothing you can do. I will never allow you to marry.”

“Percy.” Annabeth said, warning in her tone. She had also heard the special emphasis the goddess placed on the word 'you.' Whatever reason Hera had for refusing them, it was because of Percy. Annabeth's hand found its way to his wrist, grabbing him, trying to ground him. Her quiet support only made him even angrier.

“It may be only a minor inconvenience, but that's exactly why I can enforce it in perpetuity. Your existence is a display of callous indifference from one who believes he is beyond reproach, but here it's mine. You should never have been born. You certainly can't get married.”

Hera hadn't moved, not once during her entire tirade, but Percy felt as if his entire world had tilted. Annabeth would never be able to get married. No, she could get married, just not to him, because he had the audacity to exist. It's never enough, he thought, a cold fury overtaking him. No matter what I do, it's never enough.

His fingers twitched. He longed to hold riptide in his hand, to press the blade's edge to the goddess's throat. All the while Hera continued to stare down at him with those cold cruel eyes.

“Oh.” She started again, as though she had not already dealt enough damage. “And I would advise you to think very carefully about what I've said before deciding to have any children.”

Annabeth’s grip on Percy's wrist grew tighter, but he didn't even notice. His ears were ringing at the unspoken threat. He ripped his hand free from Annabeth's grip as the water in the fountain beside them exploded. In an instant Percy was at the center of his own personal hurricane. He moved without thinking, riptide in hand. He would kill her. He would cut her, flood her lungs, crush her until she couldn't move anymore.

Hera stepped back, startled, but Percy was quicker. His sword began to cut, golden ichor staining the edge of its blade. Then a flash of light and an unseen force ripped him away. His head hit the ground with a crack. The goddess pressed him into the floor and water fell all around them with echoed splatters.

“Percy!” Annabeth shouted, running forward. She didn't get very far before she was thrown back by an invisible force. Hera was glowing and glaring at Percy with an anger neither of them had ever seen on the goddess's face before. Already the wound at her throat was healing, golden ichor fading away to reveal unblemished skin beneath.

“You think me some weakling you can beat into submission?” She shouted, her voice echoing unnaturally in the open air. Annabeth stumbled back, covering her ears with her hands. Percy tried to do the same, but discovered he couldn't move. A magical wind began to surround him, whipping at his clothes and hair.

“You think yourself unbeatable, but you are nothing before me. Nothing!”

Annabeth tried to move forward again, ignoring the way the wind pushed at her. Her efforts proved useless. Eddys of magical power swirled around Percy, keeping Annabeth from getting too close. Percy was barely aware of Annabeth's presence. As soon as Hera had finished speaking, pain began coursing through him. He remembered the crushing pain of holding up the sky and the searing burn of lava on his skin. Somehow this new experience was both together, and far worse than either alone. Molten heat consumed his senses. Impossible pressure squeezing him in on every side. He screamed in agony.

“Percy!” Annabeth cried, her eyes growing wet with tears. She couldn't see what was happening, but she could hear Percy and the sound terrified her. What would Hera do to him?

“Stop!” she begged falling to her knees, but the goddess didn't even look at her. Percy's consciousness shrank. His felt impossibly light. It didn't make sense. If anything, the pressure should have made him feel heavy. Instead it pushed him into a fire that burned his very existence. It was terrifying. None of the sensations he was feeling made any sense and every last one of them hurt in a way he'd never known before. He was being pressed in, made small, nothing.

Was he dying? Was this what death felt like? He wanted to cry and he couldn't. He was so stupid coming here. Why? He would never see his mother again, would never see his sister grow up. He was leaving Annabeth behind. He couldn't even say goodbye, so he prayed instead. He begged his father to look after them all and for Athena to keep her daughter safe. Finally, he apologized to Annabeth directly. Even if she never knew, he was sorry.

The wind stopped. The magic vanished. Hera was gone, and so was Percy. The only sign either of them had been there was the water covering the floor. The room was still and silent. More unnerving still was the sight of riptide. It sat resting on the ground in pen form. Annabeth stepped towards it, towards the spot where Percy should have been, and sank to the ground. Her whole body was shaking. He was gone.

Annabeth knew Hera was powerful, but never did she think their meeting would turn out like this. Percy had been powerful too. Annabeth had seen it in Tartarus. He nearly killed Ahklys. Still, Hera was no minor deity.

Annabeth reached out with a trembling hand,fingers barely brushing the sword-pen’s barrel. Riptide wasn't returning to Percy. She knew what that meant, even if she didn't want to. Tears fell from her eyes, some of them landing on the puddle in front of her and making its water ripple. She sniffled loudly, not knowing why she bothered fighting back the tears. Percy was gone. Percy was dead.

#pjo #percy jackson #annabeth chase #poseidon (pjo)#aki fic #aki answers #percy jackson and the olympians #riordanverse

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real-jane · 2 years

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everything, everything

[steve rogers x female reader]

summary: steve and his partner are undercover on assignment, hiding out as husband and wife. the line between reality and fiction is too thin, and steve can't take much more.

warnings: steve is v dumb, pining/longing/etc, smut, canon level violence, smut, and also some smut is in it.

a/n: thank you to @sanguineterrain for the original prompt: "How about a Steve x reader who have to go undercover as a married couple and oh NO, they're pining for each other and don't know it! Whatever shall they do?! 😳😏"

enjoy!

He’s too stunned to move when the doorbell rings, so she slips between Steve and the counter with pink-stung lips and hastens to answer it. All the air in the room rushes out with her.

She’s not supposed to kiss me when nobody is around to see her do it.

Three weeks. It’s only been three agonizing weeks. When did the fiction bleed into reality? When did his hands start aching to reach for her?

‘You get along so well already,’ Bucky had said, ‘it will be nice to be undercover with someone who doesn’t get on your nerves.’ Except… Steve has never had less clarity in his entire life, especially not now, after she kissed the daylights out of him.

The smoke detector is his only saving grace. The pancakes he got up early to make for breakfast are charred beyond recognition, and he throws open the window to let out the smoke… and whatever hot air is keeping his brain from actually processing.

“Everything okay, baby?” she calls from the front room. Steve clenches his jaw.

“Wouldn’t you know it–I burned breakfast,” he replies, in as chipper a tone as he can manage.

“That’s why my husband doesn’t go anywhere near the kitchen. I’m surprised you let him try, Betsy.” Ugh. Sharon. Her husband is on a permanent business trip to live with his other family, a fact that SHIELD had uncovered in the process of vetting the neighborhood. Wayne Carter is also a very good cook. Sharon Carter puts on a haughty face for a woman who hasn’t seen her husband in nine months. Betsy… the alias his partner wears like the Southern Belle she most certainly isn't… she hates Sharon, but she’s a good actress.

“Oh, Steve’s a wonderful cook! But I was distracting him.”

His ‘wife’s’ little giggle is enough to make Steve snap the spatula in half. He stares at the bisected plastic in shock.

“Bex, what do you say I take you out for breakfast?” Steve rubs his jaw and gives up on the pan, which is entirely unsalvageable. “Mimosas and crepes, yeah?”

“Steven Rogers, you’re gonna spoil me rotten.”

“Impossible.”

Steve can’t stop the panic rising in his chest. It isn’t supposed to be like this. She’s a fantastic agent, and that’s all. God–he wants to kiss her until she can’t pretend anymore. He needs to have the upper hand, to retain just one ounce of professionalism as Captain fucking America. People know who he is. He’s on assignment. They aren’t married for real.

And yet.

Realization washes over him and he leans against the counter in despair.

Every evening, when she bids him ‘goodnight’, he hopes that she skips past the first bedroom and finds her way to his. Cooking for her? His favorite part of every day. He’s googled so many recipes that the app suggests fancy breakfast food. He wears that one blue shirt as often as he can because she smiled the first time he did.

Coming ‘home’ is his only source of comfort, because she is always standing on the porch… waiting. Sometimes a neighbor is talking with her; she’s so kind that it has been easy ingratiating themselves into the neighborhood. Nine times out of ten, she’s got a glass of lemonade in hand, slick with condensation, waiting for him. It’s the weekends that are most torturous, when he has no reason to be out of her presence. Like this particular Saturday morning.

It’s very easy to forget why they’re there. They’re so close to uncovering the ring–she fills him in on the dirt she’s dug up while playing cards, or gardening, or just gossiping with the ladies each day. The women on this street tell her things that he’s struggled to weasel out of hardened criminals. Steve is fairly certain he’s going to burst into flames before they succeed in this assignment. He’s ashamed of himself. She doesn’t deserve some sicko fixating on her, especially not her partner. He’s a public figure, for Christ’s sake! He’s better than this.

Her hand presses against the small of his back. Steve starts and wheels on her. She bites back a smile at the sight of him, and raises a hand to his cheek.

“You look like you’ve been sweeping the chimney,” she laughs.

He steps away, out of her grasp. “I’ll just get cleaned up, if you wanna go.”

“Oh. You really wanna go out for breakfast?” The surprise in her voice stabs him square in the chest.

“Why not?” he shrugs. “I destroyed the good pan anyway.”

“Are you okay?”

No. Absolutely not, under no circumstances. “What did Sharon want?” He still hasn’t looked her in the eye.

“She went through Zemo’s garbage,” she says, as if she’s impressed by Sharon’s gall. “She found like twenty packs of cold medicine.”

His head snaps up. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope. She’s got the bags in her garage, she texted me a picture, too. Look.” She holds up her cell phone and sure enough, a black trash bag filled with boxes of off-brand medicine fills the screen. “This is what we’ve been waiting for, Steve.”

“Oh my god…” he can’t help but laugh in astonishment. “This is reason enough for a warrant.”

“I already sent Fury the photo. Can you believe it?”

He wants so badly to pull her into his arms and hold on for dear life. Because if they’ve truly uncovered the lynch pin of the whole organization, then their days playing house are numbered. Worse than loving her is the thought of no longer getting to pretend, and hang all his hopes on precious public displays of affection. You two look so in love, one of the neighbors had said during their welcome block party. Steve had his arm wrapped around her shoulders then, because being the facsimile of a married couple was still too new to know how to comfortably interact in a way that seemed real. She lets herself be kissed by him with a sweet smile on her face, now. Her fingers always entwine with his, especially when they’re over at someone else’s house.

For one brief second, Steve considers how easy it would be to steal the bags from Sharon’s garage and destroy the evidence… but what would his partner think of him if she found out what he had done? Maybe that was the best way to push away these embarrassing feelings–push her away. Make them strangers, again.

“Steve–hey!” She snaps in front of his face. “What’s wrong with you?”

He shakes his head, but the heat which floods his cheeks is mortifying. “I slept weird. Not fully awake yet.”

She frowns. “Why don’t you go lay down? I’ll order breakfast in, and we can wait for Fury’s directive.”

“I don’t need to lay down,” he says quickly. “I’m fine.”

“You keep zoning out–”

“I said I’m fine, so I’m fine.”

“...why are you being like this?” She crosses her arms, leaning against the counter. “You’re pissy.”

“Can you just leave it alone?” he sighs.

“We’re in deep cover and you want me to ignore it? I’m gonna nag you until you communicate, Rogers–”

“You’re not entitled to every little thought in my head, alright?” Steve throws his hands up in the air. “This is a sham marriage, remember? Stop pushing me and accept that I don’t want to talk, I’m fine.”

She opens her mouth to press the matter, but thinks better of it. She looks away and nods, but she breathes in raggedly. “Well fuck me, I guess. Fuck my feelings. Crepes?”

Steve’s heart plummets through the tile floor as she turns away to leave the kitchen. He lunges before he can stop himself and grasps her wrist, staying her exit. Words clog his throat. She waits with one eyebrow raised, but when he can’t make the apology come, she rips her hand from his. Steve is left with the horrible feeling that he has ruined everything good between them… the real rapport they’ve built sharing an assignment, and the fake one which allows her to touch him freely where anyone can see.

And kiss him where they can’t.

He waits for her on the front porch in blue, having scrubbed the pancake ash from his face. She emerges from the house in a sundress. The light pink one which always robs him of sanity. For a moment her face is stony, but then her expression lightens to exuberance and she waves–beyond Steve, to the passing neighbor on the sidewalk.

“Hi Joe!”

“Hiya, Rogerses! Where ya off to on this fine morning?” The old man braces himself on their little gate.

Five soft fingers curl around Steve’s elbow and he remembers that he’s supposed to be helplessly in love with this woman. Well… no acting required, he thinks with a wince. He covers her hand with his.

“Somebody destroyed breakfast,” Steve says, pointing his thumb at himself, “so he’s gonna treat his wife to some French cuisine.”

“Good on you, boy. Betsy deserves the best.”

“That she does,” Steve says, a hair too earnestly.

“Talking about me like I’m not even here!” She giggles. “Joe, do you still need Steve’s help moving that dresser?”

Steve tightens his hand over hers. They’ve talked time and again about how Joe is capable of stealing one’s entire day, and how frustrating it is when he’s trying to keep tabs on Joe’s neighbor to have a two-hour conversation about hydrangeas–

“If he’s offering!” Joe smiles expectantly at Steve, who bobs his head.

“I could do that for ya. How’s this afternoon?”

“You know where to find me!” Joe salutes and totters back down the street towards his small bungalow.

Once they are seated inside Steve’s car, shielded by darkly tinted windows, he dares to study her. She ignores him, typing away on her phone. “What was that?” he asks lowly.

“You’ve been trying to find a reason to case his house,” she says, not looking up. “I got you an in.”

He clears his throat. “Right. Good idea.”

“You’re not the only influential Rogers in the neighborhood.”

Steve sighs. “‘M sorry–”

“It’s forgotten.” Her phone rings in her hand and she answers immediately. “Hello? No, unsubstantiated for now but Steve is going into Joe O’Leary’s later today while I pop over to Sharon’s. No, he’s just the only house we haven’t found a reason to go inside. It was Steve’s idea, actually.”

Steve pinches the bridge of his nose. It absolutely was not, and if he’s honest with himself, he can’t quite figure out which part of this assignment he’s actually contributed to. She has all of the good ideas, she thinks of things he never would’ve dreamt of.

“--Yeah. Zemo is hunting this weekend, apparently. We won’t. Nick–that was one time!” she huffs. “I have the scar. We won’t go to his house until you’ve got the warrant. Why does every man around me insist on being so damn stubborn? No–god, I forget you have us triangulated at all times. We’re headed out for breakfast. I burned the pancakes, so…” She glances at Steve and shakes her head. “No, I copy. We’ll stay put. I’ll tell him.”

She hangs up and her head falls back against the seat. “He wants us to stay in place, and wait until he gives the okay to check out Joe and Sharon’s.”

“We already told both of them we’re going out… won’t that look suspicious?”

“I dunno… drive to the gas station. I’ll buy you some shitty coffee. At least our car will have left the driveway.”

“I’m buyin’,” Steve says, starting the car. “Last time I checked, you’re not the one who charred the pancakes.”

“It was still my fault.”

“You can buy me a moon pie, for my trouble.”

“I’ll buy you a whole box.” He can’t help the way his mouth turns up at one side, and when he looks at her, she’s smiling sadly. “I don’t like it when we’re at odds.”

Steve shakes his head. “No.”

“Partners?” She holds out her hand, but before he takes it…

“Why’d you do it?” His voice is soft, pleading. She shrugs.

“I wanted to. Don’t you ever do things, just because you want to?”

“Um. No, I don’t have that luxury.”

“I forgot who I’m talking to.” Her chin dips bashfully. “Just forget it happened, okay? We kiss in front of other people all the time, it’s a habit.”

“...which you wanted to do.”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“I haven’t overanalyzed it. Like you are doing right now.” She wiggles her fingers and Steve laces his in. “Partners. Do you wanna tell me what was going on with you?”

“Well… I suppose I was thinking about all this being done. It’s, uh. Hard to tell sometimes what’s part of the cover, and–”

“What’s real,” she finishes. “Maybe the truth is somewhere in the middle. We don’t have to answer that today.”

“I like holding your hand,” he admits. “I–shit, sweetheart, I-I’m sorry I’ve been so distracted.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

“Yeah. But I don’t have enough caffeine in me for that conversation,” he says, squeezing her hand.

“You can do it back, if you want. You keep looking at my lips. It’s okay if you want to, Steve.”

“I don’t want to ruin it,” he murmurs.

“Only way to do that is to shut me out.”

He studies her neatly manicured nails. “I want to. So bad.”

“But?”

“I don’t know. Can’t think straight as it is. What’s it gonna do to me–”

“Hush.” She holds their clasped hands to her lips. “It’s okay.”

“No–it isn’t.” He squeezes. “It’s unprofessional.”

“If you think I haven’t spent the last three weeks relishing the fact that I get to spend every evening watching trash tv with you, staring at your ass, and listening to you laugh… fuck professional, Steve. I didn’t mean for it to happen, okay? You caught me off guard with your sweetness. I knew I was in trouble the first time you kissed me.”

“But this is gonna end…”

“It doesn’t have to. I–” She stops to cup his cheek and brush her thumb over his jaw in reassurance. “I don’t wanna go a single day without kissing you. I don’t care if it started because we’re pretending.”

“It’s never been pretend for me,” he breathes.

She moves first, because she knows that he can’t do it without real permission, where there’s no question why it’s happening. He moans against her mouth; it’s always felt like his lips were meant for hers, but with nobody watching… It's a gift. She is precious to him. He cradles her face to say as much, without putting voice to it. Kissing her this way strips him of all ceremony. He’s just a city boy with a crush on a beautiful girl, who kisses like a dream. It’s freeing. If anyone saw them making out in the driveway, what would it give away? Nothing which doesn’t show on his face every time he looks at her. Because Steve can’t pretend like she isn’t the center of his world. Not when he has permission to kiss her in private.

His tenuous control snaps.

She keens as his lips traverse her jaw to nip at the tender skin below her ear. “Been holding out on me, Rogers.” He sucks a mark, blooming a ruddy bruise on her throat. Then, he lavs that spot, pulling more heavenly sounds from her lips. “Fuck.”

“I think about that, too,” he whispers against her skin. “But I’m trying to be a gentleman.”

“We wouldn’t be the first partners to do it.”

“Remember when we caught Bucky and Nat after Bulgaria?” Steve eases the strap of her dress off the curve of her shoulder.

“God,” she sighs, tugging on his hair so he’ll find her mouth again. She catches his bottom lip. “You wouldn’t look at me.”

He blinks at her through heavy eyelids. “I was thinking about you.”

“You wanna fuck me in a bunk on the quinjet?” she scoffs. Her fingers card through his hair.

“Anywhere. Have forever. Buck knows. ‘S why he suggested you for this.”

She smiles against his mouth. “Remind me to send him a thank you card.”

“Can I touch you?”

“In the driveway?” she gasps, even as she guides his hand towards the hem of her dress.

“Windows are too dark to see in.”

“You’re kinker than I thought–fuck.”

He traces the pads of his fingers over her soft skin. Steve bites his lip, watching her eyes flutter as his hand gets closer to touching her where he wants to, most. “Think I’m vanilla, agent?”

“That is your favorite ice cream flavor.”

Steve stops for a second and squeezes her thigh in affection. He presses a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth. She chases her lips after his, and pauses just a breath from his face. They smile at each other, drunk on uncorked arousal.

“Vanilla,” he whispers, tracing the hem of her panties, “is a complex flavor. Goes with everything. Chocolate. Cherries…” Steve dips his fingers beneath the silky fabric. She cants her hips to give him better access. He finds the little bud at her apex, worrying the bundle of nerves enough to make her moan.

“Exhibitionism,” she pants.

“In small quantities,” he chuckles. “Gimme your lips, sweets.”

She does so like a woman starved, but her head falls back as he sinks one finger into her heat. “Steven.”

“‘M here.”

“So good.” She rolls her hips to meet his hand. He thumbs her clit with every stroke. “Had a dream–mmph. You fingered me at a barbeque.”

“I’d do it. Under the table?”

“Mm. No. In the pool.”

“Our pool, sweetheart?” Steve works a second finger with the first easily. She’s drenched, she’s gorgeous.

She nods. “Yeah. But I couldn’t make a face because everybody was around.”

“What, then?” Steve feels her squeezing him tight. She’s close. He’s never wanted anything more in his life than to make her come. He doesn’t care how much work it takes to clean the seat afterwards. He’ll do it with a smile, as long as she comes.

“You made me orgasm in front of the whole neighborhood. Then you got in the hot tub and you made me sit on your dick.”

“Were you keeping me hard?” He tugs the cups of her dress down with his free hand and bears her breasts. “Christ. You’re so beautiful.”

“Nobody knew, and the bubbles covered us,” she sighs. “Right there, right–oh fuck. What about you?”

Steve groans as her hand finds his straining dick over the top of his jeans. “I’m gonna bust my zipper the second you come.”

“Wanna feel you. Please.”

He nods his consent, but not before flickering his tongue against her nipple. She stays his hand by turning her nails into the skin at his wrist, and forces him to lean his seat back so she can unbutton his pants, but she doesn’t get very far–

The back window of the vehicle shatters. Steve throws himself over her, peering above her headrest. She groans.

“I was so close,” she wheezes.

“Stay down, sweetheart.” Steve kisses her cheek and then throws the car into reverse, turning the wheel like a madman to dodge their attacker… Sharon. Standing on her front porch with a rifle. She raises the gun to take another shot, now that she has her sights on him.

“Roll down your window, baby!”

Steve doesn’t hesitate. His partner yanks the top of her dress up, lays half-way across his lap, and fires her own weapon (pulled from god-knows-where), catching their attacker in the shoulder. Sharon drops her rifle, but the gun discharges, destroying one of Steve’s tires with an explosive POP! The car drops heavily towards the front wheel well. Sharon staggers to retrieve her gun. After one more precise shot, she falls. Steve takes the gun from his partner when it is offered. She retrieves his pistol from the glove compartment, and they each get out of the car warily.

“Do you wanna trade?” Steve calls.

“You think I can’t shoot with your gun?” Her voice is sweet and teasing.

“I said no such thing. Is she dead?” They flank the unconscious woman… sure enough, she’s down for good, with one bullet right between the eyes. Steve exchanges a look of shock with his partner.

“Yes. Must’ve been desperate to risk taking us out like this. I’d say we found the rat,” she says.

“I guess so.”

“She has the shittiest timing.” She grins at him, which makes Steve’s ears turn red. She retrieves her phone from the car and makes a call.

Steve keeps his weapon at the ready. Several of the neighbors peer out their front windows in concern, but none are stupid enough to come out and investigate the ruckus. He attempts to stand between the body and the street, at least to obscure the pooling blood below Sharon’s head.

It doesn't take ten minutes for a dozen black SUV’s to come squealing down the sleepy street. By the time they take over the block, Steve and his partner are leaning against his car, glancing at each other with small smiles. They’ve collected themselves somewhat; he made sure there was no visible sign that she’d been just moments from an orgasm when they were shot at (other than the hickey, which he hopes nobody notices), and they attempt to look concerned that their attacker wasn’t someone they expected. But it’s especially hard for Steve to be stoic, because he knows how it feels to touch her. He settles for looking smug. He is, but who’s to say why?

Bucky accompanies the agents who emerge from the trucks, as does Fury. “Cap. Agent.”

“Director,” she acknowledges. “Sergeant.” Bucky wrinkles his nose at her.

“Walk me through what happened.” She steps forward with Fury and walks him towards the body, while Bucky hangs back with Steve. Barnes leans over and whispers.

“Your fly’s undone.”

Steve sighs. “Shit. Why are you staring at my crotch, huh?” He fixes the aforementioned zipper as discreetly as possible.

“Old habits die hard.” Bucky folds his arms and leans against the car.

“What would Natasha say to that?”

“...you think she doesn’t stare at your crotch, punk?”

“You two are nightmares.” Steve can’t help but chuckle, despite himself. “Carter annoyed the hell outta me, but I didn’t think she was involved.”

“You trying to change the subject?”

“Not succeeding, apparently.”

Just then, his partner looks up at him, gesturing towards him and then down the street, which is swarming with agents in black suits.

“Cool it with the puppy dog eyes,” Bucky murmurs.

Steve glares at him. “Shut up. That’s just how my face looks.”

“Not when you look at me,” Bucky says, elbowing him in the side. “Did you tell her?”

Steve’s eyes dart away, and he can’t help but smile. He twists his mouth to keep from breaking out into a full smile.

“Thank God,” Bucky says.

“Rogers!” Fury waves him over. Steve strides towards the director with his hands in his pockets. “I think your partner is a little shell shocked. Why don’t you take her to the house? I’ll catch up with you in a bit. I think it’s going to take a few hours for us to do a preliminary search of Carter’s.”

Steve glances at his partner, who has her hands clasped at her waist, twisting her fingers. She indeed looks quite shocked, eyes wide and unblinking as she stares up at him. “Yes sir.”

“I’m glad you two didn’t do anything hasty and stayed put. This could’ve gone a whole lot worse.”

Steve nods. He manages the world’s most convincing performance of concern, wrapping his arm around his partner’s shoulders. She leans into his side, letting him guide her across the street to the house with ‘Rogers’ painted on the mailbox. He doesn’t dare look at Bucky, nor does he want to risk saying anything until they’re safely concealed from the rest of the world. But the moment they’re inside, he presses her back against the front door. She smiles softly.

“Did that get your blood going?” she asks. “Getting shot at with your fingers inside me.”

He huffs. “Your mouth, I swear.”

“What’re you gonna do about it?”

“Do you want this?” He asks, working his knee between hers until she has to stand on her tip-toes. She nods breathlessly. “Out loud, or I stop.”

“I’ve heard you come,” she laughs. “In the shower. When you think you’re being quiet. I talk myself out of joining you every time, but I wanna see your face when you have an orgasm. I think you’ll be the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Steve shivers. “Pretty, huh?” He lowers his mouth slowly to hers, but stops as she gasps. His hands find the globes of her ass, inching under the panties he’s going to destroy. He watches her eyes dilate with arousal. She smirks.

“You’re a pretty man, Rogers. ‘S why I married you.”

Steve gapes at her for just a minute. He shakes his head in disbelief, shrugging off the euphoria which rises in him at the thought of this woman truly being everything. Her fingers creep to his jaw.

“What?”

He sighs. “That’s all I want. To have this. All the time.”

“A wife, baby?”

“And babies, sweetheart.”

“You told Joe you wanted three… you were being serious.”

“I was.” His eyes flick back and forth to study her irises. They’re glassy.

“You’d want that with… me?”

“How long have you known me?” He asks, kissing her forehead.

Her hands wrap behind his head, stroking his nape. “That’s a big step. We’re not even together–”

“I’ve been telling anyone in a ten mile radius that you’re my wife for three straight weeks, and nothing has ever felt more right.” Steve levels his eyes with hers. “I want as much as you’re willing to give me.”

Her eyes crinkle as she smiles. “God. You take a girl’s breath away. I… I don’t know if I want kids, Steve–”

“But you want me.”

“Yes,” she sighs.

“Then I don’t care. You can think about it.”

“What if the answer is ‘no’? Could you be content with only me?”

“Only–sweetheart. You are everything.” Steve kisses her eyelids as they shut in relief. “We could always have dogs.”

She laughs in surprise, and it’s his favorite sound in the whole world. “Why don’t we start from the beginning, and see where we end up?”

“Where’s that?” He noses her cheek.

“Give each other orgasms for the first time. I mean, if I’m gonna think about having babies, don’t you think I should know how your dick feels?”

“You make a very good point,” he says with mock seriousness, tapping his chin. “In the spirit of investigation.”

“To make a truly informed decision.”

“Right… if we do this, we’re gonna have to tell Fury.”

She looks at him guiltily. “He… knows. I sorta forgot that the car is bugged.”

Steve freezes with wide eyes. “Shit.”

“...Yeah.”

“Well…”

“We have no reason to hide it, now.” She finds the hem of the shirt she likes so much and tickles her nails across his abdomen. “Besides, I gotta admit that I kinda found it, I dunno… hot? That people heard us.”

Steve locks the front door over her shoulder and walks backwards, tugging her towards the stairs. He spins her so her heels catch on the step, forcing her to sit down abruptly. Steve follows, latching his lips over hers hungrily. He probably should feel embarrassed, but how can he when this beautiful woman wants him? No man in his right mind would be ashamed of her.

He rends the gusset of her panties. For such a talkative person, she sure has nothing to say when his fingers find her clit again. Just incoherent moans. Steve has three fingers inside her by the time she comes, walls fluttering around his thrusting hand. Her head falls back in ecstasy as she soaks his fingers. He wastes no time working his pants down enough to free his dick; her hands urge his shirt off so she can run the tips of her nails down his chest, flicking against his nipples and making him buck. She’s bringing kinks out in him he didn’t even know he had.

She wraps one hand around him, making his head fall forward against her collar. He nips at her tendon in retaliation. She guides him until his dick is tucked between her folds, and rolls her hips to take him in. Steve obliges. He sinks into her fully, and groans.

“Fucking hell,” she breathes.

“You’re tight, sweets.” He teases the seam of her lips with his tongue, inviting her to lose herself completely. She’s still sensitive from her first orgasm, shivering when he brushes her clit, so Steve stays still. Buried deep in the woman of his dreams.

“Was it like this, in your dream?” he asks, stroking her cheek softly. She smiles blissfully.

“No. This is better than anything my brain made up. You gotta move.”

“What if I didn’t? And I made you sit with my dick inside you all day long.” Steve shimmies her dress up her torso until she arches her back enough to let him pull it over her head. But he fists the fabric at her wrists, capturing her hands so she can’t touch him. She whines.

“Jesus. Who knew you were so controlling?” Her inner muscles contract and he huffs.

“If I thought I could control you for one second, you’d know it by now,” he says, rolling his hips. “But you’re the one who’s got me wrapped around your finger.”

“Yeah?” she gasps. “You’ve got me tied up.”

“You don’t need your hands to have me right where you want me, sweetheart, and you know it.”

She kisses him hard. “Fuck me. So I have bruises from these stairs.”

“Yes ma’am.”

He snaps his hips forward to do just that, and he’s in heaven. He’s got little experience compared to some of the agents he hears bragging about their trysts in the gym, but by god, he’s never fucked a woman like this. Especially not someone he loves. His knees burn from the carpet, and his boots attempt to slide off his bracing step–hell, his pants aren’t even to his knees, but he fucks her like a desperate man, because that’s what he is. He wants her to come again, more than anything. Hard. Who cares if he doesn’t, as long as she finds pleasure?

Her hands slip free of their restraints easily, and she grasps his back for dear life. He’ll feel the marks from her nails in the shower, he’s sure of it. Steve doesn’t realize his eyes are closed until she gasps. His eyes snap open–she’s arching up, chasing her release. He reaches between their bodies to find her clit and rolls it as he thrusts. It’s enough to send her over the edge. She cries out, and it’s all he can do not to come at the sight of her. But he thrusts through her orgasm until she’s whining with sensitivity. She grips his ass.

“Baby–please. It hurts.”

Steve braces himself on his elbows and freezes, kissing her in apology. “Mmm. I’m so sorry, sweetheart. You okay?” She nods, kissing him back slowly.

“You need to come.”

“I’m okay.”

“No!” She protests. “I want you to. I have to see it. Please–pull out, I’ll help you.”

The moment he rises up, she’s reaching for him… he can’t think with the way her fingers wrap around him, tugging him ever closer towards his own orgasm. He’s kneeling beside her on the stairs, watching her in rapt awe. She worships him, but she’s too gentle. He tightens her fingers with his to show her that she doesn’t need to be so careful with him. She’s a fast learner. She pumps him with as much care as he showed her, her eyes fixed to his face to catch every little expression of pleasure. When he’s close, he falls down onto his elbow, right at her side. She smiles, and he can’t help but smile back because god, he loves her. She’s everything. He’s never felt so good. He’s soaring. She coaxes him through his orgasm, painting her belly with his come. He turns his teeth into her shoulder to keep from bellowing, which makes her wince and laugh all at once. Then, he lets himself fall fully onto the stairs beside her, so they’re both staring up at the ceiling in awe.

He laughs.

“Yeah… you’re pretty, alright,” she breathes.

“I should’ve gotten you to bed.” He looks over at her. A faint sheen of sweat makes her glow like a goddess, and she shakes her head.

“I think this was as far as we were gonna make it.” She raises her hand to stroke his cheek but she’s shaking a little. Steve takes her hand and kisses it.

“What’s the verdict?” he whispers.

She giggles. “More research required.”

“Do you think the house is bugged?”

“...Not anymore.”

He can’t help but laugh at the innocent smile on her face. “Shit, sweets. You made me hungry. I could really go for those moon pies right about now.”

She beckons him to meet her in a kiss. “After that, baby? I’ll give you the whole moon.”

thanks for reading!

my masterlist - my marvel masterlist

#this is just filth honestly #steve rogers #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x f!reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut #steve rogers oneshot

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xxlovelynovaxx · 2 months

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screenshot:

(screenshot of a tumblr post which says: watched some video about a shitty kid yesterday and caught myself thinking "my god the kids these days are out of control" and praise the Lord I immediately reflexively scolded myself like "you were exactly this stupid when you were 13, stupider probably, here's a memory of you doing and saying something so completely terrible because you were a kid and kids don't know better" you cannot let up your vigilance even for a moment, you must constantly fight against age related conservatism and never stop internally interrogating your reactions)

Okay but I feel like maybe you should in fact interrogate your second reaction of "oh kids are just completely unintelligent and never know better, I was a kid who made mistakes and didn't know better and therefore kids in general are simply Not Bad for having these beliefs because they're incapable of having thoughtful and nuanced understandings of topics or Good Views on them".

Like it's still age-related conservatism to treat kids as basically animals who lack all capacity for critical thought or knowledge around a subject, especially teens who are specifically often at a developmental stage where they've learned some amount of critical analysis and are now learning to effectively apply it. You don't magically become capable of Having Good Views at 18 or 25 or whatever arbitrary magical number people have decided makes your Brain Work Good, as evidenced by plenty of shitty adults with awful opinions and amazing kids working hard to change the world.

And sure, OP may not have intended that when writing that post. In fact, I'm rather certain they didn't. But that's exactly WHY you have to question your thoughts around how you react and respond to children. That's exactly WHY you can't just stop at the "you kids get off my lawn" levels of extremely obvious childism and actually analyze the deeper ingrained biases you have against children.

Because even setting aside the casually ableist language (though ableism against those with cognitive/intellectual/developmental disabilities is so intrinsically intertwined with childism and youth oppression that it can't really ever be fully set aside), "oh well it's fine because they're young and therefore are incapable of being anything but shitty about this" and specifically "because they are not intelligent in a meaningful way here" is still very much ageism.

The reason it's acceptable for kids to mess up is in fact related to the fact that they're in the process of learning, but it's not because they're just intrinsically unintelligent or incapable. It's because people are allowed to mess up when they're learning new things.

Adults who only escaped extreme conservative religious upbringings as adults and are then having to do all the work of unlearning what they were taught and learning new things to replace it, people with developmental disabilities or who have to relearn things due to cognitive trauma/injury, someone who simply has a knowledge gap around a certain subject and is clumsily learning it for the first time... all those people are allowed to make mistakes and accidentally say harmful things.

There are also ways to safely and compassionately hold every single one of the groups accountable for doing so and help them when they do accidentally do harm, without punishing them for trying to learn, but unfortunately people don't often acknowledge that. And often as a result, unfortunately, people either jump to punitive treatment which can itself be harmful (driving religious abuse survivors back to their abusers, discouraging people from attempting to learn, teaching children not to trust you, etc) or infantalize the person in question (which is itself inherently harmful).

The intentions were good. "I made mistakes at this age so I should be patient with kids and give them grace and the space and whatever level of help is appropriate on my part to help them learn from those mistakes" is what I suspect the OP was trying to convey.

I just think it got lost in "Kids are stupid, I was a stupid kid, kids say stupid shit because they're stupid", or in nicer terms, what very much reads as, "kids make these mistakes because a kid being shitty is just an inherent part of their nature as a kid".

That's the part I take issue with. The statement was not "kids sometimes act stupid" or "kids sometimes say stupid shit" (with an implied or explicitly stated "because they're learning"). It was "kids are stupid" as a state of being, not even with a temporal qualifier such as "sometimes".

While I'd still take issue with the specific language used, at least the former treat the lapses in good judgment as what they are - temporary behaviors or chains of reasoning made in error as a result of learning to move through the world as an analytical, thinking person. The latter, well, however unintentionally, treats kids as none of those things.

#childism #youth liberation

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castieelsblog · 4 months

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Hello! So I'm in the PJO Fandom (have been for a couple of years) and I wanna talk about some of the characters that get hate or aren't understood. Starting with Bianca Di Angelo. There ARE spoilers to HoO and TOA, proceed with caution.

Bianca and Nico grew up in WWII era Italy and were brought to DC when Bianca was...10?? I think?? Whatever that's not the point, when they were brought to DC with their mom, Zeus had tried to kill them (because hades, Zeus, and poseidon kids were too powerful and Bianca was a hades kid) but he only killed their mom because hades had a barrier around the two kids. Fast forward to when we meet them, Bianca is 12 and Nico is either 9 or 10 (can't remember but that's not the point) and Bianca leaves Nico to join the hunters of Artemis. On the surface level, you might think that's a pretty shitty thing to do but let me put this into perspective for you: their dad is a God, meaning he can't associate with his kids directly and their mother died. Bianca had to become the sole caretaker to a hyperactive 9 or 10 year old boy for 70+ years. The ONLY reason she left was because she KNEW Nico would be safe at CHB (or as safe as you could be) she wanted to do something for HERSELF for once. It's not her being a bad sister, it's her wanting to finally do something for HERSELF. As an older sibling, I can understand her more than anything.

Next, Reyna. She grew up in Puerto Rico with her older sister and father, she was the first person in her family to be a decendant of Bellona, but her father became manic and she killed him. In doing so, all of her ancestors had gathered and called her a murderer-punishable by death at camp Jupiter. She and her sister fled Puerto Rico. Fast forward to current times, she's 16 years old and a commander of camp Jupiter. She's the one that brought peace between the Greek and Roman demigod camps. 16 and a commander. Why is she disliked so much? I think she's a badass person who shouldn't be treated like filth-from ANYONE, fictional or not. She's been through so much and yet you don't like her? Grow up.

Next is...well Jason AND Thalia Grace. Thalia and Jason were born a couple years apart (I not sure how many) to the Greek and Roman forms of Zeus. Their mother was a beloved actress who turned to the bottle because Zeus wouldn't notice her anymore. Jason was kidnapped by Hera when he was 2 and brought to Lupa. Thalia ran away from home. Fast forward to current time, she finally finds her brother again, but his memories are...well, they aren't in tact. Thalia is a hunter of Artemis and Jason is a child soilder. Thalia is forever 15 and Jason just turned 16 while on a quest to defeat Gaia. In which he nearly died. He hadn't seen his sister in YEARS and he couldn't even remember her because Hera had wiped his memories, can you imagine how they both felt? Thalia was so relieved to see him alive and he didn't even remember her face. They're both so complex and I WISH we saw them together more...instead Thalia will never see her brother again because he's dead.

Next, funshine bear personified: Will Solace. Okay, where to start with him...his mother traveled all over as a country singer bringing him along. When he was 9, monsters disguised as pigeons attacked him. He was brought to camp half blood, claimed by Apollo and then...well..hell broke loose. In the first war, he lost so many of his siblings it-hurts. The ONLY reason he's head of the Apollo cabin, is because the one before him died. He was only about maybe 11 or 12 when he was leading the main healing legion in the war with Kronos. He's lost so many people in his life, yet when people think of him they only think about him being Nico's boyfriend.

There's so much more and I could do a whole essay on this. ESPECIALLY Bianca and Rachel, but for now: please read their backstories before you say someone is selfish.

#percy jackson #pjo #bianca di angelo #reyna avila ramirez arellano #will solace #thalia grace #jason grace #they deserved better

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rainbowsandwhumperflies · 4 months

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Re: analysing Ryan: he's the "love to hate" character in the best possible way (for me, at least). So far he comes across as the most competent in his family and it makes him such a great antagonist; like, his mother is fixated on superficial details(whether Onyx acts graceful or not) over matter(whether he completes tasks or not) and his brother is basically a rich kid bully: the moment he realises he's on equal footing with someone or that confrontation may not end in his favour, Cadran folds like a wet newspaper(at least that's the vibe I'm getting so far). So far, Ryan feels like someone who would be just as functional out of the lap of luxury as he is in one; he can work(or quickly learn to work) his way if not back into lap of luxury, then to being seen as(mostly) a reasonable authority figure position and resources that come with this - and this is what makes him terrifying in a very grounded way (unlike his brother or mother, who seem more set in their ways as rich assholes). Also, we already have indirect proof of Ryan's competence as a whumper - Onyx's behaviour. He's the guy who conditioned him to behave as the perfect servant and supressed Onyx's memories of whatever life he had before serving the royal family. Ryan is ruthless and competent, and this is a very scary combo when established through his actions (as opposed to establishing it through narration - "show, don't tell" at its best). He's not unlikable just because its a genre convention, you written him as a genuinely scary antagonist, and I love this so much i struggle to put it into words. I want to hit him with a chair but I also want to see what schemes he's up to😈😈 also, I love the "every time I write Ryan, he thinks its okay to monologue" tags - he is the antagonist who earned his right to monologue. He's very pragmatic in his vileness(at least so far; based on your tags, he has some major trouble coming his way), and I really like the way it plays out in the story so far.

Tl;dr: I love the way you edit and write those characters so freaking much :3 :3

OH MY GOD. HI. OKAY. THIS ASK HAS MADE MY WHOLE WEEK. I HAVE REREAD THIS ASK LIKE FOUR TIMES JUST GIGGLING AND KICKING MY FEET.

I feel like you know these characters even better than I do, which is maybe a sign that I've done well writing them but also kind of intimidating?? but yeah. let's talk about Ryan.

The first time I tried to write this story was about a year and a half ago. I stopped for a few different reasons, but I still wanted to rewrite it on my new blog. And when I was rereading my old work, one of the things I got frustrated with was that I was excited to write multiple whumpers, but all of the whumpers sort of blended together. They didn't have any personality, if that makes sense? They were just a bunch of people who wanted to torture a guy. Which is fine but I really wanted them to be more individual, so that's when I started assigning them actual motivations.

And yeah, you pretty much nailed their main motivations. Lucia (the queen—I don't think I've ever mentioned her name but it's Lucia) is very superficial because she is very driven by how she thinks other people see her (she thinks that holding onto the title of royalty is more about popularity than anything else) and it reflects in the way she sees other people, especially the ones who work for her. Cardan is driven by entertainment because he thinks he can get away with anything (hence the surprised folding like a wet newspaper anytime something doesn't go his way). Ryan, on the other hand, is driven by something like productivity? He also sees himself as the most competent person in the family.

I've honestly never considered how well Ryan would do in, like, a job that didn't already come with authority. But he is very... put together, in a way that intimidates everyone around him. He is the type of guy who people praise by saying "They can make the hard but necessary decisions" the way people say about historical figures. Ryan can be super ruthless whenever he thinks he needs to be, whereas if we see Cardan being cruel, it's out of boredom or curiosity.

(On a somewhat separate note, the twins are more or less supposed to be literary foils. Foils are two characters designed to contrast each other, usually to highlight good qualities in the protag of a story, and the twins are meant to highlight how horrible the other one is. cuz they're both horrible.)

Also, it means SO much to me that you included the part about show vs tell because Onyx is not a reliable narrator whatsoever when it comes to the morality of the royal family, due to this conditioning. And I've been kinda nervous about the way it's written because I was worried that the narrator saying "oh yeah this is normal :) they're the royal family they can do whatever they want" might make people think that it's not as bad as it is or something? Especially in spots like chapter three where Onyx is like "oh yeah Ryan hates his brother more than he hates me." But like. I'm glad we can all agree that Ryan is a dick anyway

#I have been writing my answer to this off and on for two hours because I kept getting too excited and having to put my computer down #happy stims are great until the point where you can't be trusted to get excited with valuable things in your hands 😭#rainbow's asks #rainbow's ocs #the winged servant #ryan tag #onyx tag #lucia tag #cardan tag #this is barely about any character besides ryan but ehhh the others can be tagged #i will admit that i googled the definition of pragmatic for this ask #it was a new word but that's a pretty good descriptor for ryan #he also is pretentious (despite the actual quote of “i am not pretentious”) and does like big vocab words. he'd like pragmatic

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firephoenix23 · 16 days

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Hi, thank you for your posts being one of the reasons why I'm into Slugterra recently. They are positive, perceptive, and are addicting to look at and read. 💗 In light of this, I have a question if you are willing to answer it: Do you personally have any cute, fluffy, or funny headcanons for the members of the Shane Gang? Or even anything about your favourite friendship dynamics or ships? Even just thoughts, ramblings, and theories about them are ok. 😉

Oh my god, this is actually the sweetest comment. Thank you so much! 🤗🥰 As for headcanons and theories, I definitely have had so many, so better sit tight and get comfy. Sorry that it took me so long to respond. I was so busy with work. Also sorry if this is hella chaotic and hella long 😅

Eli

I think forever and always Eli will be a short king. Like I know he's 15 in the show and like he could grow more but I've always thought he'd be short forever. I think it works for him because I always thought he was the fastest and most agile of the Shane gang so

Eli is always seen sleeping or napping around the hideout, so I always assume he's a terrible night sleeper. I'm so convinced that kid has insomnia or something and makes it up with naps throughout the day

Definitely has ADHD, no one can convince me otherwise. Like he said one line in an episode that went something like I'm kinda new at this whole planning thing. Tell me you have ADHD without telling me 😂

I actually think in an alternate universe where Slugterra never existed and he stayed on the surface I think he would be a vet or like some environmentalist hippy when he gets older. I mean, the whole show I feel like is literally about him helping slugs and fighting a man corrupting them so i think it makes sense

Okay so like i always kinda theorized that he would like men. Like I know I know I'm sorry to the Eli x Trixie but in my mind for some reason I just like can't see him with a girl. Or maybe he has more of a preference for men something like that

I feel like this is one goes with the one above, but I'm gonna say it anyway, I've seen people theorize Eli as a trans man and honestly, I don't if i necessarily headcanon it but I think it’s kinda slay. And I doesn't make sense chronologically in the show but whatever trans rights 🏳️‍⚧️ ✊

Well, this one is kinda shown in the show, but I think Eli's an awful singer, like ungodly bad. They have him hum in the Eastern Cavern Christmas episode, and it is the worst thing I have ever heard in my life 😂

I also think that Eli is probably mixed or multiracial. I definitely think he's Mexican and then Irish (for the whitest last name that has ever graced my eyes) Chinese (check Junjie section for that one 😂) Middle Eastern (Lebanese, Egyptian, etc) I feel like if he's Canadian probably got some Native in him too. I have like no reasoning for some of these it's just what I feel. I know he's probably just a white boy, but let me have my fun

Eli is not the biggest fan of crying in front of people or crying in general. He's got that surface toxic masculinity ofc, but being in Slugterra has made him open up more to his friends

If he's not sleeping or fighting bad guys, he's training or working out or brain rotting by watching videos on the slugnet

I also think that Eli would probably be kinda awkward to meet if you went up to him. Like if he's not there for Shane business, he doesn't really know what to do with himself. I mean he went from being a nobody on the surface to being 🌟THE SHANE🌟 and everyone wants to talk to him. If i was 15 and I became that famous, I would be awkward too

He's also the youngest in the Shane gang

🗣️Eli is Canadian 🗣️

Trixie

So this isn't necessarily my headcanon, but I saw this a Long, LONG time ago, there was one theory that Trixie was Dr. Blakk's daughter. I'm not sure how they came up with this theory but I think it's so interesting and crazy. It would ask more questions than answer them, like why was Tad on the surface but Trixie raised in slugterra and how Dr. Blakk could have two kids he didn't know or we assume for Tad but it would just be such a crazy concept

I feel like Trixie doesn't have the greatest relationship with her mom. She definitely has very fond memories of her, but it doesn't seem like she visits her mom that much. I feel like they get into a lot of disagreements.

As for age, I think Trixie is about 16 or 17 years old

Trixie is definitely the most direct of the Shane gang. She will tell it like it is and will not sugarcoat it. Like if she doesn't like you or like something, she'll be the first to say something

AU, if Slugeterra didn't exist, she would 100 percent be like a big Twitch streamer or a YouTuber. I mean, she's got a love of filming and gaming so it makes sense to me

It's kinda implied in the show but I think she's really big into animals not just slugs. I feel like her and Eli would sit around her computer or tv watching slugterra animal documentaries or something 😂

Also, going back to the filming, this isn't really a headcanon for Trixie, but the slugisodes that they put on YouTube are all the videos she made. Again it's implied, but I thought I would mention it

For sexuality, I don't know, maybe bi. She's giving me bi energy

Kord

I think Kord is the best cook out of the gang (with Pronto at the bottom) but because he's always updating the mechas or fixing blasters or whatever, he never really gets the chance to cook oh but when he does 👌😩

I would say Kord is about 19 or 20 years old

Once again going on the theme of Shane gang family issues but I think Kord's family was not the happiest knowing he was gonna leave the pretty safe career of being an engineer for the dangerous and low pay career of a slugslinger

Going off of that I feel like a lot of the non-human groups of Slugterra have a lot of negative stereotypes around them, and Kord becoming a slugslinger was his way of breaking the stereotype that cave trolls are only engineers

For slugterraless AU Kord would probably be like an aerospace engineer or a completely different route and be a therapist maybe he would try for both

He's definitely the unofficial therapist of the group. He's a good listener and will sit and nod along as the other person just rants rambles, or sobs

Probably got that sleep apnea with the way he sores in the show

Almost NEVER showers, but surprisingly not stinky

He will spend all day working on a project and sometimes forgets to eat so the gang will have to come into the garage and give him food

Not gonna lie he's been a bit jealous of Eli and how quick he was to figure things out in slugterra with slugslinging and especially at such a young age but he's mostly gotten over it... mostly

I mean we know he likes women what with Druilla but I don't think Kord would be opposed to guys. So bi prob with more a preference for men

Pronto

Once again, it's not my theory, but I saw something a long time ago that the King of the Molelinoids?? was chosen by who is the greatest tracker out of all the moles, and that happened to be Pronto. I honestly think this makes the most sense

Okay, so for age, I always got the sense that he was a lot older than the rest of the Shane gang, like in his early 30s, just because there are slugisodes about young Pronto, so...

I think that's why they feel the need to have him cook because he's the technically adult in the house but I mean like look at him 😂

Also considering he was king I assume he never cooked (b/c he was too busy cleaning out toilets 😅) Meaning that he's probably the worst cook but not by much since Eli's 15 and can't even boil pasta without the water spilling over

Now my theory for why Pronto was in the Shane hideout was b/c I do think he was stealing some Shane shit that he could sell for that gold and new purse ofc🪙👛that's why he looked so shocked and nervous when Eli arrived he really thought Eli was gonna arrest him or something

He is definitely the loudest and most extroverted of the Shane gang. Like my man, he has never heard of a quiet button, and it drives the others nuts. He'll just go up and talk to anyone it's so hard to take him places sometimes 😅

Pronto has a twin named Pinto, it's not a headcanon it's stated in ROTE but I thought I would mention it

He's definitely the messiest of the Shane

He also is the most active on social media (even more than the official shane gang channel on the slugnet) and those the most interviews for tv (which my other theory would be that Eli is hella glad Pronto wants to do them despite him only talking about himself)

For slugterraless AU Iiterally have no idea what Pronto would do like no thoughts 😂 he could be anything and everything

For sexuality I feel like Pronto would actually be ace don't know why I just feel like it fits him

Junjie

I feel like Junjie's headcanons are gonna mostly be sad, but I'll start with less depressing ones, first everyone pronounces his name wrong but at this point he's too nice to current anyone so he just lets it

As for his backstory I think he came from humble parents maybe they couldn't take care of him but Master Lian decided to raise him as her own and train him to be the Easter Champion since she was the current one

Now for the fun one, I think Junije and Eli are very very distantly related. I like to think that Eli is related to Yang in some way. I also like to think if there were ever going to be any other caverns like a northern or southern champion, they would all be connected to the OG champion of the underground world. I don't know who that person is but I just like to think it would be cool 😅

Unfortunately, he suffers from pretty severe PTSD. He doesn't remember everything that the goon did to him, but every once in a while he'll get a flashback almost like he's regaining his memories and it's not a pretty sight for him

I do think he would be pretty heavily scarred as well from being under the control of the goon for so long

For his age, I think Junjie is 15, like Eli. Yes I know he's actually 35 but he doesn't look like he aged and I think Junjie would really try to ignore the fact that he spent 20 years of his life destroying his home. So yeah maybe he's 35 but in his heart he's still 15

He and Eli suffer from nightmares from time to time from the goon so when Junjie lived in the Shane hideout they would both just stay up talking and hanging out

While Trixie will verbally judge you for your stupid actions *cough* Eli *cough* Pronto, Junjie will just silently judge you, which is almost just as bad

Junije is actually very expressive, even if he doesn't have a lot to say you can tell what he is thinking through his expressions

I feel like in a slugterraless AU he would probably own like Kung Fu Dojo or something like that

Okay, wow, that was a lot, but now I kinda want to talk about shipping. I'm just gonna talk about a few of the more popular ones please don't kill me 😅

Eli x Trixie

So I, like, I know why people ship Eli and Trixie; it's because they're like really close, and it would be cool to see them grow up and realize that they've always had feelings for each other, and then they get married and have kids or whatever. Like, I get it...... the thing is, I just don't really care for it 😅😅

There are just so many shows that have the boy protagonist with the girl protagonist, and I swear sometimes they just have the girl character just there to be a love interest of the main boy character, and that's literally all they do, and it sucks. And Slugterra literally fits that bill like Trixie is the only human girl and Eli is the main character. So it should have happened, but it didn't, which I feel is RARE for an early 2010s show

It's kinda cool that they don't get together like there isn't even any romance at all, which is, again, super rare. I really can't think of another show that didn't have some indication of romance even when it wasn't the focus, but Slugterra doesn't have it at all. Sometimes, when I watch it, it throws me off guard because I feel like it should, but Slugterra had too much on its plate to do that stuff. And I see Eli and Trixie having more of a sibling relationship than anything else,

I think I'm just not that into it because I remember there being a lot of really annoying shippers in the early fandom days who would claim that every interaction that Eli and Trixie did was like signs of THEM FALLING IN LOVE, but really, they were just standing there. But if you want to ship it, that's totally cool!

Eli x Junjie

So I don't ship Eli and Junjie, but then again, I do think it's super cute and makes sense. The history of the ship is so interesting, but people were shipping Eli with the dark slinger long before he was known as Junije, and when he became a part of the team, people were so excited.

But then they dropped that BOMB that Junjie was controlled by the goon for 20 years, and everyone was like, yikes, this is a little awkward, and like, to this day, I don't know why the writers did that. Like, even a year or two under the goon would have been a lot, but no, they had to do like 20 years. I just wish I was in the writers' room when they made that decision. I would have been like hello, explain why it has to be so long

Obviously, it makes the shipping complicated, and I never saw anything crazy when it came to people fighting about who you can ship with. When it comes to ages and shit I was in the Voltron fandom I saw it all. And not like writers need to know about shipping, but it's still like, why. Why did you make one of your characters 35 or however old Junjie is? They never explain if he aged or not. They're like, yup, 20 years passed, like HUH???

Anyway, this ship section literally just became about Junjie, but in conclusion, ship what you want to ship life is so short, who gives a shit

And finally........

Eli x Twist

Okay, so like....... I do ship Eli and Twist. What can I say, I'm a sucker for rivals, friends to lovers. But rivals to friends to lovers is like my bread and butter. I'm literally obsessed with staticradio with Hazbin and shit it's so embarrassing But, Twist and Eli started it all for me. They are like the OG rival to friends to lovers to me. I emphasize rivals TO friends TO lovers, but I like the in-between of friendship before they discover they have feelings for each other or whatever.

I know it could be complicated, and I know, in theory, rivals to lovers could never work in real life, but I think there was potential in the show. Not with Eli and Twist as a romance, but I feel like they were going for a redemption arc for Twist, and then they just like forgot about him and then brought in TAD 😒

Like, come on, he's literally just Twist, but they had to add that connection to Dr. Blakk like Twist already had that. So if there was no romance, then there should have been a redemption. I have this whole other theory that I think Dr. Blakk kinda prepped Twist to hate Will Shane more than he actually did just to get someone Eli's age to fight him to see if that would work

Because, like, Twist-hating Eli makes literally no sense. Eli didn't do anything wrong; he's literally just there. He's just the new Shane, and he constantly is like you wanna be like Blakk, you know you're doing the wrong thing, and blah blah

Like, it sucks that Will killed his Dad, but I don't get what Twist's Dad's plan was. Why was he jumping off a cliff? Was his plan to kill both of them, like kill his own child?? And I just have this other theory that Twist's dad was illegally selling slugs or had a shady business. He clearly didn't have the best morals if he was going to take his son to the GRAVE with him

I should make a separate post about this since this one is getting so long, and I have so many thoughts about the Eli and Twist redemption arc or whatever you want to call it.

#slugterra #god damn if you made it all the way to the bottom god speed 🤲🙏#you're an actual real one #if anyone has any headcanons that they would like to share please send them over I love hearing about other people's opinions #does anyone remember the slugterra headcanons tumblr we should bring that back #like i would be so down

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scribblermish · 2 years

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2nd December 2022

3:30 P.M.

"Day 132"

Exams went a bit good a bit bad.... chemistry exam very good.... ecology exam is okayy okayyy type.....viva in ecology went not so good....but today something happened beyond all this which is literally very disheartening for me....as in..

My zoology...ohkayyy ecology teacher...named say V mam....she is politically very very incorrect with us... from the very beginning of the semester...she always been mean to some...whom she don't like and always very very good towards them... she like...or who always do praise of her...I don't have any problem with her behaviour as I know that I am also not doing something extraordinary that she like me... except I was always good in giving prompt answers and most of the times scores good in her subject...most of the time I use to get late in her class...and so I think these reasons are enough actually to don't like someone...so doesn't matter...but..today..

When I was giving my viva and at a question I said..sir please let me think for a while to prepare a good answer...sitting behind with other students she told other students of the class that she...me..always make stories....and in very aggressive mode and she said to another student that if you write stories in your examination I will give you zero... don't write like her...I gave her marks because I am good hearted... otherwise most of the time I want to cut her answers...

Really????no ways....I am Manisha Mehta and I know what I wrote...if I wrote stories then how she who don't like me at all gives me highest marks....because I deserve that...I know...how she can say that...

Literally while writing this I have tears in my eyes...like she has so much poison inside her for me....like..ufff betuuuu...this is worst....this is really really very worst....and especially when she is a teacher...

Now I am stuck that what should I do???....

Should I tell her everything about me?? should I tell her that what she is doing is wrong... highly wrong...or I forgive her...but forgive never forget....??what to do???Will think on it and will answer it ASAP....will meet soon betuuuu ❤️🥰🤗💫..

So yeah...writing a bit later in the evening around 8:40 P.M....

So the answer I got is to just not to bother with whatever V mam is saying.... because I know what she is saying is wrong...so just let it go...okay don't forget but leave the thing...leave her... because maybe she is saying something based on her experiences... knowledge... circumstances...so yeah...here I learnt a big lesson today...

I cannot control or change the way people think about me..some will say good thing...some will say bad stuff too...but as human we always should have a sense of grace towards them for being human.. because everyone is fighting their own battle... everyone is reacting as per his/her personality....I always should have that much of sense of reality..yeah...

Here I am also seeing that I am too emotional...I take some things too seriously...which should not be taken....so I don't have to be an emotional fool..Manisha think and act a bit practically....well in this blog I so many times used a bit🤔😂...well..

Manisha wrap this situation with an end note right now....

She is V mam...she is like that accept it or not...so why to be sad...I cannot control what others think of me...I cannot...but I can control what I think of people...okay V mam is beautiful person...maybe to someone... somewhere...she is good...so the best is to leave her....leave from everywhere.... everywhere....may god bless her with a lot more success in all aspects of life ..may god bless her with a lot of happiness in life...and may god bless all those whom she is gonna teach in future...may god show everyone the correct path....to achieve the highest possibilities in life.

Hope you'll get what is correct for you in life ❤️💫..

Best wishes & Regards 🤗

Manisha Mehta

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bewitchingivy · 2 years

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Pick A Card: Blessings You'll Receive This 2022

Hi, everyone! I'm Ivy and welcome to my very first PAC here in tumblr. In this PAC, we'll find out what blessings you'll receive this 2022. A little spoiler about these gifts won't hurt.

Keep in mind that this is a general reading so take what resonates and leave what doesn't! After all, the situation that the cards predict is not set in stone. It's only one of the countless possibilities that the future holds, and you undoubtedly have the power to change your future.

Please choose from one to three piles. You may choose more than one if you're feeling called to. And I pray that your intuition will lead you to the right pile(s). So take a deep breath, calm your mind, and pick the pile(s) where you are most drawn to.

Disclaimer: This is for entertainment purpose only. Photos used are not mine, they belong to their respective owners.

MASTERLIST

From left to right: 1, 2, 3

Pile One

ace of pentacles, three of wands, queen of wands, justice, ace of wands, three of cups.

For those of you who chose the first pile—this is your reading. I see tremendous success here, which depends on what success means for you. For some of you, it could be that you're starting out a business (I'm also getting the feeling that this business of yours have somthing to do with your creativy, and I see that you're blessed with so many brilliant ideas this year) and I just feel a lot of wealth are coming in for you from this business that you have. For some, it could be a job offer, the job that you've always wanted. You've worked hard and the universe rewards you for your blood and sweat. This year offers you confidence. If I could cut this reading to the chase; I'm literally sensing that boss bitch vibes. Wow, even typing this right now made me feel so confident and strong. Okay, I also heard that there will be people who's going to become envious of you. But please keep in mind to never mind them and don't waste your energy on them, there are a lot of great things you could spend your time with. If they're jealous, who cares? Just keep your head high, okay? And don't let anyone break you down with their negative energy. Just walk away with grace and confidence, because you know that you're living your dreams or you're on your way to live your dreams.

Also in the past, someone might have hurt you or more like you trusted this person so much and they broke it. When they lost your trust, you also lost some things you achieved because of them. But God or the Universe is giving back what you lost. And it's even better than what you expect.

And last but not the least, despite with the three of cups present—I don't see you much socializing this year or celebrating your success with friends, but rather I see you celebrating your success by yourself. And it's not a bad thing at all, you're most likely to spend this year to take care and pamper yourself, and you deserve it!

Channeled song: Overdrive by Conan Gray

channeled words: being heard, strawberry, pancakes, bicycle, Tom, bay leaf, cricket, storm, pray, 10, crochet, meal, coming home, taste, flow, original.

Additional note: okay, no kidding. I'm seeing a lot of cooking. Your business or job could be related to that.

Thanks for stopping by, and I'll see you next time! — Ivy

Pile Two

hierophant, death, king of wands, five of cups, five of wands, ace of pentacles.

Hello, for those of you who chose pile two! Okay, let me first point out that starting this reading, I just had a sudden feeling of nervousness and my palms are all sweaty out of nowhere. Now this could be your energy at the moment. You may be feeling worried or fidgety when it comes to your manifestations, well Universe is saying that there's absolutely no reason for you to be. I want to remind you that you're the creator of your reality, whatever you want, you will attract it. So don't be worried okay? Just let your worries rest and enjoy the present moment. Also, it could be that you use water as part of your manifestation method. I also heard that you should hydrate yourself more.

Clearly the Universe has offered you a fresh start after ending or letting go of something you once had (a relationship, career, etc.) but I sense that it was something that no longer serves you. The thing you lost was something that meant a lot to you and it was very difficult for you to let it go. I'm sorry to hear about that, fam. This could be the reason why you're somehow worried about your manifestations. But I want you to know, that because you have let go of something that no longer serves you, the Universe will reward you. Also I heard to please make peace with the past so you can live in the moment and move on confidently to the future. As for the reward, I feel like there's certainly more blessings but the only things I can see is related to financial. And not just that, but you're also provided with the confidence and wisdom that you will need to move forward towards your endeavors. Also, I heard that for some of you—you will be working with a group. Everyone in that group will share your same goals, careerwise or education. And you will be working hard together with a project that I feel it seem to be really important. So have courage, fam! Leave your worries behind, youre doing well <3

channeled song: 11:11 by Taeyeon

channeled words: choose a decision, fly, taming a snake, bells chiming, trees, orange, sense of smell, click, windows, for life, pole, pisces, campfire.

Thanks for stopping by, and I'll see you next time! — Ivy

Pile Three

page of swords, two of wands, two of coins, the star, nine of swords, six of wands.

For those of you who chose the third pile—first, I saw a red outfit while shuffling the cards. With a ribbon, I suppose. So that may resonate for some of you. Okay, this year you will actually feel like you're “too blessed.” But why you thought of this is because you are actually given a lot of opportunites to achieve your endeavors. But then you just can't make up your mind for choosing a decision, because I feel like in this you're only allowed to decide one choice. You might feel like your mind will be clouded due to the loss of confidence and the pressure of deciding important decisions, but I'm hearing here that if you just trust yourself—your gut, your instincts—you will be able to choose the right path for you. You might also travel out of your country, I'm hearing Italy somewhere in that part of Europe. (But if you're currently in Italy right now, then maybe around your neighboring countries lol). Oop! I just saw 111! ✨ And though you may have a lot of things to do this year, you will be able to work through them perfectly. You may be one of those people who have a tight schedule, and yet they still manage to have time for anything and finish everything in the checklist.

Finally, with the star and the six of wands—you will have some sort of recognition this year. Your hard work will be paid off, and people will see you as a very respectable person. Overall, you will just feel bliss and joy. And I also heard that you have this favorite place to go at night, particularly around nature, despite it being quite late you just want to breathe in the moment and enjoy your surroundings. Or there will be some sort of hobby that you will do at night (or even during the day) that will bring you fulfillment and love for yourself. In the past, you might have been through a hard time and you would just cry yourself to sleep every night, (and I'm sorry to hear that, fam. Here, I'm sending virtual warm hugs! <3) but no more of that! You'll decide that there are so many wonderful things you'll do and you'll just miss them if you spend your time feeling horrible. I remember Billie Eilish said something like that and you might wanna look it up. But hey, I want to remind you to not force yourself to be positive, because that is purely toxic. If you want to let out a good cry, then do so! This too shall pass. Nothing's permanent, it's all just a cycle to feel happy today and sad tomorrow.

Channeled song: Wonderland by Taylor Swift (ily if you're a swiftie too), Happier Than Ever by Billie Eilish (I didn't shuffle this, I had it while channeling the words below and thought I might as well add it here)

Channeled words: providence, unsure, quiet, Tiana from The Princess and the Frog, luck, fifty, dare, cologne, drift, be careful, trickster, false relationship, spinning, joy, marble staircase, white roses, mare.

Thanks for stopping by, and I'll see you next time! — Ivy

#pick a card #pick a pile #tarot reading #divination #intuitive reading #pac #tarot community #tarot cards #bewitchingivy

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woodchoc-magnum · 2 years

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L*ne St*r Hate Watch 3x08

Disclaimer: if you love the show, don't read this, please have a wonderful day.

Eddie Diaz, because it's only prudent we should gaze upon his beautiful face before embarking on this torment:

Prefacing this by saying I genuinely don't know how much of it I'll actually be able to get through – equally the TK & Owen shit but also as someone who recently lost her mother. I'm not sure if this is going to trigger some strong emotions or not (probably not - let's face it, it's LS, the writing is fucking terrible, but still). We're just going to roll with it and see what happens.

This is a really awful death for Gwyn who absolutely didn't deserve it (for those not watching – she's knocked over by a bike rider and she hits her head on the curb, and she dies instantly).

I hate this because I really love Lisa Edelstein and I feel this show has done her dirty.

I feel like we're 100% heading for a TK relapses storyline, right? But they're too cowardly to do it to their golden boy so probably not

"leave me alone" TK says in a monotone

God I'm gonna hate this episode so much

He can't act. Like he just actually can't act. I know he's meant to be acting "numb" or whatever but like every single line is delivered in a monotone.

Rob Lowe looks particularly old in this scene? Maybe it's the lighting

Is Carlos going to get to go with them in this and actually have something to do? Amazing

I thought it would just be a Strand family adventure (note from future!me: oh past!me how wrong you were)

Maybe I would feel more if I actually cared about these people, but I don't.

Oh TK is doing the thing that I tried to do which was to simply deny it – damn it, I will not identify with this asshole

I mean I suppose if you really like TK this is exactly what you've been wanting

And like, if the OG did an episode that was all about Eddie, I would be over the moon

So I guess I can't complain about that

But I just find him so intolerable

Confession – I'm not really watching it so much as I'm listening to it, because it's very boring and I can't look at TK too long without getting annoyed

Carlos can do so much better

I'm only 15 minutes in, this is going to be interminable

And no Grace or Judd to relieve things

Also off topic but I feel like I'm the only one who has absolutely fucking zero interest in seeing the new Batman movie and I've always thoroughly disliked Robert Pattinson

It's Batman Returns or fucking nothing

I like my Batman with a lot of camp, thank you very much

"oh no let's make all superhero movies dark and serious" - NO, you put DANNY DEVITO IN A PENGUIN COSTUME AND HAVE HIM EAT RAW FISH, YOU COWARDS

This has been an unsolicited Batman rant

One of the ladies from Superstore is on the plane with TK (couldn't tell you her name, she's a larger blonde lady)

I'm not sure why Rob Lowe doesn't just slap TK and tell him to get the fuck over himself

He is the whiniest of bitches

God I just don't care

21 minutes

Oh what now the plane is going to crash? Plot twist

That would be amazing, two birds with one fucking stone right?

I mean the window blew out on their row and NEITHER ONE OF THEM WAS SUCKED OUT?

The lady from Superstore solved the problem of the broken window by shoving a suitcase in it, don't worry

Oh wow it's TK's time to fucking shine, he's going to save this lady's life and it's almost like he was put on this planet for a reason, right? To help people? Wow, this isn't heavy-handed at all

Why did they leave it to the day of the funeral to fly to New York?

Lady from Superstore saving the day again

Look I'm not saying that she's doing all the heavy lifting in this episode but she definitely is

All right so basically to recap what's happened is that the lady they were sitting next to was partially sucked out of the plane, and they pulled her back in but she's severed an artery in her arm and they're trying to save her life

And that is the bulk of the episode at this point

And I am not invested

30 minutes in

Okay so one of TK's vodka bottles fell in the toilet (in a flashback) and even though the other two were fine, that was the one he drank

And I am side-eyeing that decision

(unless the other two broke and I didn't see that happen - if so, fine)

"you can't save me, mom" TK says in a monotone

While Lisa Edelstein acts her fucking heart out

Can you imagine having a scene partner this fucking bad?

You know how insignificant Gwyn was as a character that her death is solely about TK and Owen's shared man pain, and not about the partner and baby she left behind

I mean I know the OG killed Shannon to further Eddie's storyline but for the most part, they don't kill characters like this

And I just think it's a cheap ploy for drama

And it's bad writing

Apparently the fucking plane was still close enough to Austin that they're just going back to the airport so that TK and Carlos can have an emotional reunion

Ugh I hate this show so fucking much

7 minutes to go

I wish the plane would blow up

Damn it

The plane didn't blow up

Also the lady from Superstore is FINE

Gwyn was a good mother and I'm annoyed that they killed her off when they absolutely didn't have to

Booooooooooorrrrreeeeddddddddd

4 minutes to go

Like now they're not even going to the funeral? All because their plane nearly blew up? Weak as piss

Now Carlos is crying and blaming himself for putting them on the plane

Okay here's the spooky thing, after my Mum died my friend and I had Chinese food to honour her – and they're doing the same thing on this show and I'm bothered by it

Also Rob Lowe is looking rough in this episode? Not sure what's going on there, maybe he's laid off the botox

OH THANK GOD IT'S FINISHED

All right so ultimately I did not find it particularly triggering. I also thought I would fast forward most of it but I half-watched, half scrolled through Tumblr which I feel was a happy medium.

I am side-eyeing people who thought this was a strong episode though because like... ??? If it doesn't have Grace or Judd in it, it's not a strong episode.

In conclusion I still hate this show.

Eddie Diaz for beautiful cleansing energy:

Maybe a couple more - we've earned it:

The fucking HEAT in this moment you guys AAAAHHH and it was in the first episode of Season 5

5b is going to kill us, I can't wait

#lone star hate watch

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rosemary-is-in-pesterquest · 4 years

Note

I am. SO. frustrated. that they keep fucking up davekat. like I just wanna go off. just wanna go the fuck off, man, I didn't even ship them that hard at first but god damn I do now and it's pretty much because the epilogues and HS2 have fucked them up so bad and I know they are better than that. let me just.

okay so originally, davekat is built on themes of mutual defensiveness in response to insecurity. when Dave is first introduced, he portrays himself as a cool guy, and gives us the concept of Strider irony. where a normal person might claim to love something shitty as an ironic joke, or maybe the ironic joke masks sincere enjoyment... Strider irony, according to Dave, has a billion more levels of sincerity and insincerity, to the point where you have no idea what the real intent is. in part, this is due to teen pretentiousness... but in some ways this is a reflection of him genuinely finding his Bro unfathomable, and wanting to protect his own genuine thoughts, opinions, and interests from criticism, without actually coming off as insecure. as time goes by, you can watch him and figure out what is sincere and what isn't... he doesn't actually keep that tight of a lid on things, but that's partially because the game allows him more freedom than he usually has. he at least isn't living in his Bro's shadow anymore. some might extrapolate this to mean that he's experiencing more physical and mental security than usual, while others might just say he's coming into his own via this journey, but the fact of the matter is that he felt the need to hide behind this facade in the first place. and the tricky thing with Dave is that it isn't all fake. it's a weird mixture of who he is, who he wants to be, and what he thinks others will respond well to. his development isn't so much discarding the mask, as it is reconciling what it's made of, and incorporating it into his true self as he matures. he accepts it as a piece of him. it's very subtle, and natural, and true to what growing up is really like. I think this is why so many people like Dave and relate to him so much.

for Karkat, insecurity manifests in the form of being hyper critical of everyone around him. to be honest, this also comes from a deep sense of concern for the people around him, and the fact that his friend group is made of a bunch of loose canons who do destructive shit for fun, and people who are easily dragged into that sort of thing. but the thing that keeps Karkat's hyper critical nature from irritating people too much is that he's also super extra critical of himself. he admits it when he's done something wrong... though admittedly often after it's made people angry at him, and he has a good amount of very sincere apologies that he delivers so that they come off as very sincere and actually work in terms of reconciling with people. Karkat's biggest issue is that criticizing your own internal flaws and actually fixing them are two different things. and while Karkat can identify many problems with himself, he's not always the best at making them go away. it takes him a long time to learn how to change himself, because in order to change yourself, you have to accept the flawed parts of yourself and work with them, rather than just trying to push them out of your sight. this is why his anger at his past and future selves is ultimately unhealthy. it keeps him from truly addressing the fact that his current self is just as subject to those same flaws. for example, if he's talking to a past self and a future self, and his future self is condescending to him, and his past self is naive, then his present self is both of those things to his conversation partners. but he's so repulsed by his own negative attributes that he's not really dealing with them. his saving grace is that everyone can see how hard he's trying, and how worried and scared he is. ultimately, Karkat doesn't want to be the reason for screwing everyone over, and that's more concern for others than anyone ever asked for. it gains Karkat a lot of good will, without him necessarily even realizing what he's doing.

what's excellent about davekat is that they come out the gate fully critical of one another... but neither is willing to back down either. somehow, these two insecure idiots trick each other into defending themselves. and it's brilliant, because they get all their critical bullshit out of the way immediately. they don't fear criticism from one another. they already criticize one another all the time, and it's fine. like, their worst complaints about each other are right out there in the open, and how freeing must that be for a couple of guys who worry about other people's opinions of them so much? Dave has nothing to hide and nothing to prove. Karkat defends his own positive qualities. it's good for them. eventually, they just kind of run out of material... and there's something comforting about knowing that they've said every bad thing they can think of about each other, and none of it was a deal breaker. they're still in each other's business constantly. and that's when they start to learn from each other. see, Karkat is really blunt. he wanders into the thick of things, yelling at people and making mistakes all over the place... and Dave is just more cautious than that. his whole cool guy persona is made to keep that kind of raw emotion from leaking out, and to make every mistake seem like he meant to do that. but Karkat makes mistakes all the time. and apologizes all the time. and he comes out okay. Karkat is sincere. but Karkat is also high strung... and Dave isn't. Dave knows how to chill, and he plans things, and he can sit down with people and calmly talk through a plan. get it in simple terms and hash things out without panicking. Karkat often exhausts himself trying to run around and manage everything, and while it can be kind of endearing to see how much he cares... it's not exactly healthy. Dave has more of a level head, beyond just his cool kid persona, and isn't afraid to make people walk things back and take it from the top. and actually, what Dave and Karkat have in common is that they try really hard for the people around them, and feel great concern for the people they love. when the chips are down, they value similar things. and once they've run out of ineffectual ways to badmouth each other, that's what they have left. probably the thing that bugs them the most about each other is how much they actually have in common in terms of priorities. and while I do think that in their relationship, they'll probably always bicker with each other, that's the core foundation. they're caring people who look out for their group and try to help wherever they can. in essence... they're both knights through and through.

and then HS2 fucks it all up. legit why even confuse anything about their relationship? just let them uncontroversially date, keep it lowkey and tasteful, realize the wonderful potential of their friends razzing them about it a little, and write a better story for them to exist in. god damn. like, seriously, just give them more people to actually care about, because Dave and Karkat feel out of character if they aren't constantly in the lives of a plethora of friends who are important to them. look at them in homestuck. look at everything they do best. of course they wouldn't thrive in HS2, none of the cast even likes each other anymore!! Dave and Karkat were basically instrumental in setting up rosemary, which fits so well with all of their characterization its insane. I just want everyone to periodically go back, and reread homestuck, and remember when these characters were good people.

BASED WENDELL COMING IN WITH THEIR ANALYSIS BETTER THAN WHATEVER THE FUCK THE HS2 WRITERS SHIT OUT

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its-my-little-dumpster-fire · 3 years

Text

Let it Burn ( t w e n t y n i n e )

Billy Russo x Reader, 6.7k

A/N: I don't know what to say about this one, just that it's been a long time coming and I'm equal parts excited and terrified of being this close to the end. So if even one person asks for a nice interlude, I'll friggin do it, because there aren't many sweet moments left. Not that there are any in this chapter? idk. You decide.

Warnings: Death. Talks of death. Violence. Poorly written fight sequences (I'm sorry @the-blind-assassin-12).

Summary: Billy's past comes knocking and you're thrown head first into a future you weren't expecting.

“I’ll get the car,” Matt volunteered the second your little group exited the bar. He was quick to turn away, leaving you with Noah and Libby on the sidewalk. The air thrummed around you with bass tones from leaking out onto the street. Combined with the alcohol in your system, you felt warm despite the chill in the air. Noah had his arm looped around Libby, holding her close and holding her up as her head lulled sleepily into his shoulder. Her hand stuck out, blindly grasping at the air behind her until you caught it in yours and she turned her face to smile. It was good to be with friends. Shocking, how normal it felt to be with people who knew you in college. Libby was there in your dorm room, laughing mercilessly at the sharp tingling in your legs after sprinting through the snow in shorts. A boy at the gym tried asking you out and your eighteen year old brain only came up with the dumbest responses to his flirting, prompting you high tail it out of there before pulling your sweats back on. Matt was there the Thanksgiving after you turned 21, carrying you on his back after too many spiked ciders, when you needed a break. Noah… well thankfully you hadn’t done anything remorseful in front of him that week, a sign you were getting older, but his presence in the group was a welcome one. Even if some days you looked at him and half expected your brother to be in his seat again, rubbing the back of Libby’s neck and calling Matt an asshole for wearing a Tom Brady jersey in public. It struck you that someday soon, these friends would have to move on from you too, keeping you and your brother as memories and nothing more.

Unwilling to let another string of macabre thoughts could kill the lingering comforts of the evening, you glanced up and down the street mindlessly taking in the city you once called home. It certainly wasn’t New York, but it had its own pulse. You couldn’t help wondering if it was the last night you’d ever get there and wanted to soak up every second. In your reverie, you floated away from Noah and Libby, kicking the pavement gently, eyes closed and heart content. Dying girls are allowed to romanticize whatever they want, you reasoned without paying attention where you were standing. It was your own fault that you were nearly knocked over by the broad shoulder of a passerby.

Noah hollered out in your defense, telling the man to watch where he was going, but one look up into familiar black irises told you the “stranger” was watching his step… and yours apparently.

“Sorry about that,” he whispered, a smile growing under rounded cheeks and puckered pink lines torn by glass.

You tried and failed to school your features into something slightly less glowy, but your soulmate’s hands were on you, steadying you, just feet from your friends. If you closed your eyes again, it might feel like a normal night out. A double date. Billy propped up against the wall, his arm stretched out over the plastic seating of a diner booth. You next him, stealing french fries off his plate and apologetically kissing his cheek after he slapped your hand away. Noah and Libby would be on the other side of the table, being their own kind of adorable, sharing a milkshake or something like it was the fifties. Oh god, you shivered, imagining Billy Russo in a leather jacket, driving you home after parking over in some poorly lit part of town, where his hand felt completely at home under your sweater.

“You okay, ma’am?” he asked, squeezing your arms and angling his face away from your friends, so only you could see or hear him.

“Yeah,” you sighed, disappointed your soulmate wasn’t a greaser, but still amazed he made such a brazen attempt to see you before you went home with your friends. “I’m swell.”

Billy chuckled at that, catching the sound in his throat so all that escaped was a huff. He nodded and licked his lips, looking down at the pavement between your shoes. Your eyes were still on his face, darker under the hood he’d pulled up, but you felt the toe of his boot nudge yours affectionately. “Swell, huh.” You nodded. “Alright,” he nodded in the direction of your friends, already releasing you and pushing you back toward them. “Keep your eyes open.”

“Thanks,” you called out, backpedalling until Libby caught your arm again and Noah stared down the stranger like any tough guy should. It wasn’t his fault that he had no idea who he was glaring at. If he did, he certainly wouldn’t linger.

“Russo!” you heard someone yell and immediately your blood ran cold. Libby and Matt were still trying to herd you away from where you’d been so rudely bumped, but you were immovable.

You heard Billy’s hissed ‘shit’ as the man with the thick black beard stalked over from the bar’s entrance. Shit, you repeated in your head, had this guy seen Billy in there and followed him out?

“You got the wrong guy.”

“Nah,” this man shook his head, “I don’t.” A terrifying smile appeared on his face as he approached Billy. “I’d know that fucked up mug anywhere.” He looked your soulmate up and down, all too satisfied with what he found. “Thought I was seeing a goddamn ghost,” he announced, before lowering his voice considerably. “Last I heard, they dragged your ass out of the river…” he scoffed. “Guess not, huh?”

In the presence of a rising conflict, Noah and Libby turned away, tugging you along with them. Your body followed them toward the lit yellow circle under a streetlamp to wait for Matt and the car, but your senses belonged to Billy. Always.

You had to believe that he was armed and clearly more than able to defend himself. Even strolling along the Adriatic, where time moved slower and the locals cared more about their afternoon cappuccino than the scarred face watching the water over your head, Billy had been prepared for the worst. There wasn’t a cell in your body that feared for him in these moments, but the second his name was spoken out loud… there was a new fear. Your life over the last 6 months was not safe anymore, Billy was not safe anymore. Everything you knew up until this point relied on anonymity and that was gone. Your soulmate could survive a street fight, but could he live beyond one where his ability to remain invisible was compromised?

The argument over your shoulder escalated and when you turned back to observe them again, what you found was more startling than a simple scuffle.

Billy was evenly matched and that alone was enough to scare you. He’s Billy Russo. Any conflict that comes his way should be easily snuffed out. He’s been fighting his entire life. First with broken broom handles and the grace of a boy who hadn’t grown into his limbs, but abandonment and terror look a lot like rage against hungry cheeks. No matter how “pretty” he’d been, there was a fight in Billy begging to come out. Surely the fight enticed a young Billy into service. The power, the training, the knowledge that he’d never be a victim again once his fists knew where to strike. With a scope, he could fight without getting his hands dirty. With a Ka-bar… he didn’t seem to mind that either. And you knew first hand that the fight followed Billy home, where his enemies were chosen for him and in exchange, he maintained his power. That Billy shouldn’t have equals, but somehow on this street, an equal had found him.

“They’re all dead,” the man spit then shouted, feet shuffling as he and your soulmate circled each other. “Geno, Todd, Bobby, Moke.” He lunged forward and Billy’s hands came down on his wrist, blocking the blade out in front of him. At first, you hadn’t noticed the black carbon steel in the dark, but when Billy took hold of his wrist in one hand, it was clearly visible under streetlights and gasps skittered through the small crowd gathering outside the bar.

“That’s on them,” Billy ground out, keeping his attacker’s arm straight up over their hands as he went for the knee with his other hand. Off balance, the man was forced onto his back and Libby’s audible gasp pulled your attention at the same time her hands were pulling back on your shoulders. Completely unaware of your own posture, as you stumbled backwards a step, you realized that you’d been moving closer to the fight since it broke.

“You pissed off the Punisher, Russo.” At the mention of Frank Castle, you turned back again, watching Billy’s hand come down on the man’s neck and jaw. You cringed at the way his voice gurgled and strained, but he kept taunting. “Jake’s dead.”

“He’s a fucking tweaker who didn’t know when to quit,” Billy insisted, struggling to dodge a knee to the liver while still pinning his assailant. The knife finally fell from the man’s hand, but neither he nor your soulmate lunged for it as you expected. Two men as deadly as this needn’t concern themselves with a sharp edge when their bodies were well honed weapons. You assumed this man must have been military too, with the pace at which they were anticipating the other’s movements, blocking and striking with disturbingly natural ease. He never would, but a part of you, a very small part, wished Billy would just run.

“Castle wanted you, Billy! Wanted to crush what you started!” Another series of punches that sounded painful. Everytime Billy drew blood, you noticed more of his own, a cut over the eye, redness that would bloom into dark purple before tomorrow. “You were a coward, Russo. Leaving everything you built,” the man was winded and you hoped that meant he’d slow down, but neither of them had that kind of quit in them. Not when face to face with an enemy. “We kept going, we could have run that city! But your buddy Frank Castle wouldn’t sleep until every of the boys was dead. Spunk, Manny, Vincent.” The man spit blood from his red stained teeth as he seethed through the names of fallen comrades. “That psycho went after Jimbo, that dumb kid didn’t stand a chance. I never thought I’d get my chance with Billy Russo…” he laughed, a little manic as that confident veneer he’d worn just a minute ago was broken. “But here we are, Billy. You and me.” He was using Billy’s name frequently and loudly. His eyes were as black as Billy’s and you watched them dart around to the handful of cellphone cameras pointed directly at the scene. The smirk on his face was unsettling and suddenly you knew what was happening. This man didn’t care if he died as long as he took Billy down with him. Billy, observant, but ever the predator was more concerned with eliminating the physical threat than his name going viral. The man wasn’t down for long before sweeping Billy’s leg and rolling away. Knife forgotten and fists flying into every inch of tender flesh, just like they were trained. Behind you, Noah described the scene in alarming detail while on the phone with local dispatch, making sure an officer en route knew exactly where they were needed and everything you were certain of two minutes ago was in jeopardy.

“Borrowed time, remember?” the man seethed, hunched over a heavy breathing Billy Russo who’d just taken a shot to the ear. “It was always gonna end this way.”

Falling from the top bunk and breaking your arm. Graduation. Your parents’ funeral. Your brother and Libby’s wedding. Meeting Billy. Standing outside a building that erupted in flames from the inside. The oncologist sat before you with a sour expression. Waiting for Billy in every new country, wringing your hands as if he might not come. So many life changing moments and yet, they were all a blur. This moment, however, was painfully clear.

You felt the tension in your toes as heeled feet moved toward the fray. The burn in your legs as you squatted after a day standing to accept goodbyes followed by a night of dancing poorly. The knife’s weight in your palm as you adjusted your grip to something that felt more solid. You’d bought cans of soup that were heavier than the blade wrapped in your fingers and that surprised you. No wonder these looked like an extension of Billy’s hand when he wielded them. Despite the relative lightness, you looked awkward holding on to it. Not like Billy. Through the blood rush behind your ears, the heavy throb of your own pulse drowning everything out, Libby’s voice screamed your name. Billy looked shocked, a marvel in itself as it seemed so little could surprise him, to hear your name and his eyes landed on yours, wide, but narrowing as the blade sank into his opponent’s side.

The man wheeled back quickly, his elbow landing hard in your chest and knocking the wind from you. Someone Billy’s height would have doubled over groaning after a shot to the gut, but when you hit the ground, no sounds came out as you tried to call out to Billy. He acted without your cries and while you stared at the ground spinning between your knees, the sound of the fight grew louder, more urgent. As unseen hands guided you back to your feet, your legs shook at the sight of blood splattered on your hands and bare shins. In your struggle, the knife remained in your grasp and the sight of it, shimmering red in moon and street light, made you feel dizzy.

It was Billy to say your name next, loud and strained. When you looked back toward him, he was on his back, thumbs digging into the man’s cheekbones as his head thrashed. The scars on Billy’s face seemed to give way to the veins bulging in his forehead until they were all you could see, evidence of his struggle to take in breath with hands pressing down on his windpipe. The last time you were in this scenario, Billy hadn’t struggled at all. Your attacker was a bum compared to the marine and when your soulmate sliced his fingers clean from his hand, you didn’t even stop to wonder if you’d done the right thing assisting Billy. As if a practiced dance, you approached again with shaky steps, to drop the knife in Billy’s outstretched hand. You watched as a red faced Billy Russo lifted the knife and plunged it directly into the side of the man’s neck. Blood flowed from the artery when Billy removed the blade and struck him again and again. He shoved the man from his body and rose with a face, reddened by blood splatter instead.

The world slowed to a stop as you fell forward and Billy caught you, widening his feet to adjust your body against his so that you both stayed up right. His whispering disappeared into your hair and you heard nothing that was said, until a new voice cut through the night.

“What the hell?!” Matt called your name, wide eyed and confused by the blood covering both you and the man that held you. He’d only been gone a few minutes and everything had gone to shit in his absence. At the sound of sirens just around the block, your eyes flew from your friends back to Billy’s, dark and conspiring as the next few seconds proved most pivotal.

Clutching the front of Billy’s jacket, you jostled him until his eyes fell upon yours. “Don’t you leave me here, Russo,” your head shook desperately, as did your voice. “Don’t.”

Without saying a word, Billy’s jaw tightened and he was off, all but carrying you toward Matt and the car that couldn’t have come at a better or worse moment. Your friend, too noble for his own good, stupidly resisted the man on a mission and Libby shrieked when Billy’s fist landed against Matt’s cheek. He shoved your friend toward the sidewalk where his sister cried and got into the driver’s seat like it was his plan all along. Libby tried to pull you back with them, insisting it was self defense and you didn’t have to run, but one look and she knew.

The second your door shut behind you, Billy pulled away, blessedly unnoticed by the blue lights approaching from the opposite direction. You were shocked when your getaway driver stopped the car after only a few blocks, slipping into an open spot in front of a fire hydrant and stepping out of the car without explanation. He opened your door and pulled you out when you didn’t immediately follow, dropping Matt’s keys in your seat before slamming the door behind you. A half turn over your shoulder and the blue from the responders’ lights bathed the buildings on the corner. You were far too close to be safe, but Billy pressed on, walking so close behind you that his chest moved you forward more than his hands. Around one more corner and it all made sense. There was already a plan in place, a car stowed safely within walking distance of the bar meant to carry Billy away before he was jumped and his identity exposed.

You settled uncomfortably in the front seat of a sedan that -under any other circumstance- would make you laugh to see Billy behind the wheel of it. “We can’t travel like this,” you gestured down to your short dress and blood stained skin. The man next to you made a disgruntled noise, but flipped on the turn signal all the same when you pointed out Libby’s street upcoming.

Billy stood watch at the large front windows, peeking through the curtains suspiciously and giving you commands from the other room. There wasn’t time for you to change clothes, which you hated, but you were allowed 5 minutes to grab whatever you’d need so you shoved what belongings you didn’t have to dig for into a bag, flying from every corner of your guest room. Job’s excitement at seeing you and Billy, together and walking through the front door like you’d been invited rather than pillaging through the flower bed for a false bottomed rock, lasted only the length of the entry before even the dog decided that your frantic packing was too much for him. With your bag slung over one shoulder, you scribbled the quickest apology onto a pad of paper in Libby’s junk drawer, hoping she wouldn’t find it until you were long gone. You trusted she and Matt and Noah to do the right thing, to tell the truth about what they saw. You weren’t sure what to expect of the bachelorette party that watched like a herd of scared sheep, phone out and backs hunched as they gasped and gawked at the death befalling tiny screens. There was time to spare one final glance toward the refrigerator, normal clippings and wedding announcements and grocery lists. Your friends would slide back into their normal lives soon enough. They’d feel the need to mourn again, despite attending your funeral just hours ago, but they’d be forced back into work, obligations, other friendships.

You had no such luxury. There was no normal from here on out. Whatever you thought you’d been running from in Europe was soon to be clawing at your door. It was impossible not to recognize that your journey with Billy so far had been easy compared to what was coming next. He was going to be hunted, while your dying slowed him down, dragged more like. The humble bag of belongings over your shoulder suddenly weighed a thousand pounds and the strap dug into your skin. In your haste to be close to Billy, your desperation to stay with him, you hadn’t stopped to consider what a cruel fate you were damning him to. Libby lit the spark, a guilty smoldering in your chest, thinking about Billy losing you the way your best friend had lost your brother. She was broken and changed, but you couldn’t fathom what Billy would do once you were gone. Torn between wanting to spend every waking second with him until your last and letting him run without you there to complicate his survival, you didn’t notice him moving through the house to find you and hurry you along.

“Let’s go,” he said sharply, urging you with his eyebrows and an extended hand, but his other hand was not empty and it amused you more than it should.

“What are you doing?” you asked, seeing the answer for yourself without addressing it. Billy shook his head and furrowed his brows like he didn’t know what he meant. You nodded at his hip, but he ignored the gesture completely, passing Job’s black leather leash from his left to his right hand, and walked out.

“Time’s up,” he announced again without further explanation and the dog behind him was more than pleased to be included. Job had no idea where he was headed or the dangerous circumstances that had brought his two favorite people back to him and for a moment, you allowed yourself to be like Job. You fought back your amusement and nodded solemnly, following Billy and his beast out of your friends’ home, apology tucked into a drawer and bag drawn up over your shoulder. Just before exiting, you stopped at the front door to kick off your heels and slide your bare feet into a pair of Libby’s walking shoes. She wouldn’t miss them and you were in greater need at the moment. This way, you hoped, she’d know you were safe upon entering, even before finding the note with half assed explanations. With the door closed behind you and the hide a key back in its place, Billy loaded Job into the back seat while you settled into the front. It could have been the start of a road trip, if you let it. Man, woman, dog, all piled into a car and headed for the next adventure.

Billy leaned over and you didn’t even try to hide the tears tracking down your face, overcome by the idea that your only normal moments would have to be imagined from now on. Usually one to prefer silence in these complex situations, you were surprised when Billy started to speak. Jose was the man’s name. He’d been involved with Billy’s tiny army, plundering New York City and taking back what they felt was owed to them after sacrificing so much in service. Jose, Billy explained, was the only member of their gang that questioned his decision to leave the game when he did. He didn’t explicitly say it, but her name hung in the air anyways.

“A lot of people died because of me…” Billy continued and you turned to face him in your seat. His eyes were forward, occasionally drifting toward dark mirrors, but never toward you. “Frank… if what Jose said is true… Frankie’s on a fucking spree.”

“Is that any different than before?” you asked honestly. You didn’t know Frank that well, or at all, minus a handful of meetings that always left you feeling nauseous before, during, and after. He was the Punisher, famed for clearing the streets of those that crossed him or his moral compass. Watching the Boondock Saints with your brother was one thing, knowing someone with twice the training and fire power was loose in New York with your soulmate’s name at the top of his list was something else entirely. Billy wasn’t the good guy in this story, you loved him, but your brain hadn’t disintegrated that much yet. Given another opportunity, Frank Castle would end Billy’s life without pause. That wasn’t a fact easily forgotten, or forgotten at all, but knowing that even one person blamed Billy for Frank’s less than judicious behavior was terrifying.

The steering wheel squeaked under the tight flexing of his fingers. You knew him well enough to know that Billy didn’t feel responsible for their deaths, not really. He was smart enough to draw conclusions about how they ended up on Frank Castle’s hit list, but he wouldn’t lose any sleep over them either. The only thing that worried you was if Billy was looking for a reason to fight Frank one more time, this would be as good a reason as any. You reached over to touch his arm and as awkward as it was to hold onto his elbow when Billy made no moves to reciprocate or accept the touch, you left your hand where it was. Only when Job’s snout shot up from between your seats and bumped the back of his arm did Billy react, dropping his right arm to trap Job’s face between his arm and his ribs. He looked up then, meeting your eyes for the first time since getting into the car. His expression was unreadable in the dark, but you disregarded the voice in your head that told you not to push him. “You’re not going after him are you?”

Billy’s eyes drifted purposefully back to the road ahead and you expected your question to linger without ever being answered. An unspoken confirmation of your worst fears. “I’ve got other shit to do,” he answered suddenly, releasing Job’s head from its hold and sliding his arm through your hand until your fingers fell in the spaces between his. Billy tightened his hold, fingertips digging into the back of your hand, then let go completely, switching hands to steer with his right. His elbow rested by the window and he cupped his own chin, covering his mouth with his forefinger as if deep in thought.

You. You were the other shit to do. You had to be.

On the one hand, overlooking his choice of phrasing, you were encouraged. He’d planned to keep you around and knew he couldn’t be with you while successfully hunting Frank Castle. That was… nice. In a way. There was a time when Billy’s feud -if you could call it that- with the Punisher took precedence over you and the trust he placed in you. Somewhere over the last year, Billy learned of your importance to him. Of course he didn’t share this as he was discovering it, but the night he held you and forced you to look at the passports he’d secured for you both before blowing Anvil to the ground, he’d laid it out clearly. You meant something to him and without his memories, he had to be sure. Once he was sure, he was all in. Or so he said.

Which made everything else harder. How could Billy Russo be all in when he had no idea what was coming next? A few months in Europe away from the US government and the Punisher, your brain was changing, but that was nothing compared to what he’d have to deal with soon. You and your doctors had discussed end of life expectations, but how much was Billy ready to shoulder. Would he regret his choices when you couldn’t keep your eyes open anymore? When you couldn’t get to the bathroom by yourself? When your throat rattled with every labored breath? When you weren’t sure where you were or who he was? How much of your dying could Billy stand before he took Job for a walk and never came back?

You’d meant to talk to him about it back at the bar- god, could that really have been an hour ago? Hearing Libby’s heartbreak as she talked about losing your brother was too much already. How much worse would it be when the goodbye was drawn out and by the end, he was so sick of caring for you that your departure was more of a relief than a loss?

“Billy, pull over,” you demanded suddenly.

He ignored your warning, but the churning in your stomach wasn’t waiting on your soulmate.

“Billy!”

“We gotta- SHIT!” You felt the car slide over to the shoulder when you lurched forward, hand over your mouth too late as the contents of your stomach emptied through your fingers and onto the thick rubber mat between your stolen shoes. When the car finally stopped, you were quick to exit, heaving twice more before falling backwards. Your butt hit the damp grass and your body slumped into the slope of the ditch until you were flat on your back. Slow breaths pushed whatever was left back down and when you were feeling brave enough to open your eyes again, you focused on a familiar cluster of stars to keep the rest of the galaxy from spinning away. The archer was facing back the way you’d come stumbling, taunting you, daring you to rise and face Billy Russo after throwing up in his getaway car. He could wait a few more breaths. When the sticky sweet scent of alcohol soaked soil wafted up into your nose, you frowned, wiped your wet hand in the grass, and stood, not really ready to face him, but unwilling to lie out in the cold smelling your own sick any longer.

Billy was watching you, one arm bent over the hood while he stood between the door and the driver’s seat. He didn’t strike you as the hold your hair back guy, but seeing him out of the car at all was a surprise. Your embarrassed shuffle back toward the vehicle was met with silence, only the thud of the door closing behind you and the click of your seatbelt broke it. Billy pulled himself back in once you were situated and in a matter of seconds, you were rolling again. The puddle by your feet was even worse than the wet ground you’d left in the ditch and Billy didn’t hesitate to roll every window down. The wind whipping through the front seat did little to cover his scoffing.

“Smells like death.”

“Get used to it,” you murmured back and waited for Billy to reply with something smart. The rebuttal never came, but he sat straight up after it, left fist clenched against his thigh while his right hand kept the car steady. He heard and you knew you’d need to talk to him again, seriously, but the adrenaline was well and truly worn off and the sickness wasn’t exactly invigorating. What a mess. You briefly imagined what Kathleen would say about it all before remembering that your phone was safely tucked into your purse, dropped at Libby’s feet in the middle of the night’s chaos and with it… shit.

“The address,” you said quietly. Billy’s eyes flitted up to the rearview, without responding. “The address you gave me, we can’t go there. Libby has it.”

“I put it in your bra,” Billy stated, already sounding frustrated.

“I put it in my purse so I wouldn’t lose it and…” you gestured vaguely. You honestly couldn’t remember the last time you were holding it. Maybe when Billy bumped into you on the street? Once the fight broke out, your attention was not on your belongings.

Billy took a deep breath through his nose, shaking his head as he dug his own burner out of his back pocket. He nodded to the backseat, “gimme that blue pouch back there.” You turned onto your left hip and opened the duffle he always had with him. Along the front side of the bag, you felt a leathery pouch.

“With the zipper?” Billy hummed and you pulled it out for him. Job whined quietly from the backseat, clearly not pleased that you were rummaging around in his space without even petting him. While Billy had the pouch between his legs, looking for something, you stayed turned toward Job, reaching out to run one of his ears between your fingers. He relaxed again, laying across the bench seat, so you rested the side of your head against your seat to watch him sleep and within seconds, you too were out cold.

Before you knew it, your eyes were flying open at the gentle vibration of the trunk slamming shut behind you. Looking around, it was impossible to tell how long you’d been out. The sky was just as black as it was before, but nothing outside the windows looked familiar and you were definitely in the car alone.

Billy was loading his bags and yours into a gray pick up that was so comically large you weren’t sure his long legs could pull him into the cab, let alone yours. You could make out at least two more men from their silhouettes, black against the glare of the truck’s headlights, exchanging words and something else with Billy before he turned back toward you. Unsure what was happening or who the men were, you waited in your seat for Billy to retrieve you, which soon enough he did. You hadn’t even noticed his jacket draped over your front until he slid it off your chest, placing it back around your shoulders once you were out of the car and standing with him. He didn’t touch you much, didn’t even wait for you before starting his march back toward the truck. You followed awkwardly, dodging the uncomfortable stares from the men he’d just been talking to and helped yourself into the passenger seat with about as much difficulty as you were expecting, especially in a short dress that still had tiny, but pungent vomit splatters on it and needed to be burned. It was probably a faux pas to wear the dress you wore to your own funeral anywhere else and you weren’t worried about missing it. Billy spoke with the men once more, pointing to the car that had gotten you here. The men weren’t interested in the car, stealing glances through the windshield at you. One had the audacity to wink before rolling his neck to smirk at Billy. You watched your soulmate’s face lift in one of his signature snarls before taking a total 180 into a similar sadistic sort of smile. He tilted his head toward the windshield, not even really looking at you before turning back and saying something that made the men roar in laughter. Through the thick glass and over the loud engine, you could hear their response and you were thankful you couldn’t hear what he’d said to be so entertaining. Instead of watching them through the windshield, you turned a bit to look in the backseat. Job was stretched comfortably across the bench, his big block head supported by Billy’s duffel bag, which left his snout right in between your seat and the driver’s. You scratched his head, amazed that the dog seemed to be adapting to this on the run business much easier than you were. He trusted you and he trusted Billy. The details weren’t anything for Job to be concerned with, so he nodded off again without trouble. You could stand to learn a thing or two from the mutt.

By the time Billy was back in the driver’s seat next to you, you had surpassed uncomfortable and settled well into ‘about to throw up’ territory again. The way the mean leered at you was chilling, but the way Billy let them, almost encouraging them, was ultimately what made your insides crawl. His head hit the seat behind him with a thud and he waited until the men, driving the first car away, were completely out of sight, not even the faint red spot of tail lights on the black highway ahead of you.

You had questions. Loads. Who were those men? Where were they going? Whose truck were you in? Where were YOU going? What did Billy say to make them laugh? Were you in danger? Was this always the plan or was Billy really so resourceful to pull off this swap all while you slept next to him?

And yet, none of them came out.

“Billy…” his head lulled to the side, looking at you dutifully without moving any other part of his body. “We need to talk.”

Billy’s huff was clearly annoyed and he straightened immediately, reaching for the gear shift and ignoring you.

“Billy-“

“They were guys from Anvil,” okay one answer. “They’re going ahead to set up a place for us in Buffalo. It’ll take a couple of days, but they got connections to get us across the border. Anything else you need to know?” His stare was hard. Impatient.

You swallowed and nodded. His nostrils flared but he didn’t say anything, so you continued. “Can we trust them?”

Of all things. That made Billy Russo smile. He licked his lips before answering. “Not at all,” he said, finally shifting into drive. “That’s why we aren’t going to Buffalo.”

The relief you felt at his words was enough to put you right back to sleep, but suddenly you felt wide awake. You even sat up a little straighter, turning a bit in your seat to look at Billy easier. The truck was pointed West, the ugliness of the night left back in Philly. Your poor friends would be left to pick up the pieces of the evening and you suddenly remembered why you’d run off on a grand adventure in the first place. Dying just left so much trouble for the ones left… which reminded you....

“Billy, we still need to talk.”

“I didn’t tell them who you were,” he assured you, derailing your thoughts entirely.

“Who did they think I was?” You asked.

Billy shrugged. “A hooker.”

“And that was believable??” Billy’s annoying smirk said it all, but he took a moment to look you up and down, lifting his eyebrows once his eyes made it back up to yours. “Ugh,” you whined. “Don’t answer that.” You tugged the hem of your dress down over your thighs as far as it would go. You were still in his jacket, a little black dress that stunk of sweat and booze and vomit, boots that didn’t belong to you. You hadn’t had a good look at your hair or makeup since before Billy fucked you in an office and there was no way your makeup had survived an evening of drinking, dancing, Billy’s rough kisses, manslaughter, and throwing up on the side of the road. The little pull down mirror above your head wasn’t even tempting at this point and Billy’s smug chuckle next to you was bad enough. You shrunk down, wedging yourself firmly between the back of your seat and the door, and Billy glanced over barely containing his amusement.

“Aw, c’mon baby, don’t be like that,” he teased in that thick accent of his and you glared at him from your little corner, pulling his jacket tighter with your crossed arms. He reached out across the console between you and unfortunately you had nowhere to go. His fingers wrapped around your shoulder and he barely had to tug before you were shifting in your seat to lean closer to him. Billy dipped his hand into the back of his jacket, rubbing your neck as you leaned further in. At his gentle kneading and pulling, you finally relented and let your head fall into his shoulder. It was an uncomfortable angle with the wide center piece between you, but totally worth it when you felt Billy’s lips brush your forehead. “You smell like a 4, but I know you taste like a 8.”

“I’m a 10,” you argued and he laughed above you. His arm was all the way behind your neck now, holding you against him as he maneuvered the giant vehicle with his left hand.

“Mmm,” he hummed. “I dunno about that. How bout we find you a shower and some toothpaste, then I can have another taste, just to be sure.”

You shook your head in complete disbelief. How dizzyingly quick could he switch from hardened criminal on the run to this flirt. Too fast. Hard day behind you and hard conversations ahead, but both forgotten for the time being. The ride was quiet and you were bound to fall back asleep before too long, Job’s snoring behind your head as comforting as Billy’s long fingers rubbing your scalp. Just before consciousness evaded again, you felt Billy turn his face into your hair, mumbling something too low to be understood.You hummed a bit to question it, but were out before hearing him repeat it.

YEAH WE KNOW BILLY. ITS ONLY MOSTLY YOUR FAULT.

Idk how y'all still put up with me and this story. Its too long. You can say it.

General Tags: @something-tofightfor @the-blind-assassin-12 @gollyderek @suchatinyinfinity @fific7 @beautifuldesastre @elanor-of-imladris @actuallyazriel @malionnes @pheedraws @commanderlola @mariaenchanted @the-blind-assassin-12 @gollyderek @suchatinyinfinity @fific7 @beautifuldesastre @elanor-of-imladris @actuallyazriel @malionnes @pheedraws @commanderlola

Let it Burn/Billy Russo: @elenarogersbarnes13 @19avocado-high51 @songtoyou @disengagefrmreality @christinawxxx @stories-you-wont-hear @lexxierave @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @thesumofmychoices @ofheroesandvillains @charmed-asylum @bugboy-and-icegirl @thefinalexperiment @lysawayne @operation-spot @ilkaeliseb @littlemermaidprobz @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @mathle0matle @a-dorky-book-keeper @blackbirddaredevil23 @elenarogersbarnes13 @19avocado-high51 @songtoyou @disengagefrmreality @christinawxxx @lexxierave @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @thesumofmychoices @ofheroesandvillains @charmed-asylum @bugboy-and-icegirl @thefinalexperiment @lysawayne @operation-spot @ilkaeliseb @littlemermaidprobz @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @mathle0matle @blackbirddaredevil23

#billy russo x reader #billy russo x you #jigsaw!billy #jigsaw!billy x reader #billy russo fanfiction #ben barnes character #ben barnes character fic #Job is a good boy #that's actually all that matters here

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angellesword · 3 years

Text

SAVE ME | KTH (11)

Summary: You were determined to kill yourself, but what would happen when instead of ending your life, you ended up summoning the devil of death?

Alternatively:

The Devil: I’m here to ruin you, I’m here to save you.

Genre: Demon au, e2l, angst, fluff, roommate au

Pairing: Devil!Taehyung x Doctor!Reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: mention of death, kissing, and blood.

SERIES: CHAPTER 10 | CHAPTER 12

*unedited*

The sad thing about carrying the burden of guilt was that you felt as though you didn't deserve to experience good things.

"Who said you have to experience good things?"

The crease on Taehyung's forehead implied that he was looking for an answer, causing you to bite the inside of your cheek.

You honestly had no idea how to answer him.

"Let's just go home, Tae," you said after a long minute of silence.

It was better to give up when you were uncertain, sadly Taehyung was persistent. He wouldn't stop until you gave him an answer.

"You know you're being too hard on yourself, right?" His grip on your forearm was gentle, yet his tone was harsh.

"You know where I stand," your lips were pursed into a straight line. "I don't deserve to see him."

Him.

Him as in your father, or to be exact: your father's grave.

You and Taehyung were currently at Seoul cemetery to finally visit Cha Areum's grave. This was the very first time you went here.

You didn't have the courage to do so back then. However when things between you and Jeongguk started to get better, you realized that maybe it wasn't so bad to face your fear.

But fear was not the same with uncertainty.

Taehyung was suggesting that you should visit your father's grave as well. He said bringing flowers and trying to talk to him while you looked at his headstone might help you to somehow lessen the sadness caging your chest.

You answered him by saying that you were uncertain.

Uncertain if you deserve to experience good things.

Having the chance to talk to your father—even though it was only by pretending as if he could hear you from six feet under—was a form of redemption, like a way to free yourself from guilt of not trying to contact him when he was still alive.

You didn't want that because it would make you to feel better about yourself and feeling better about yourself was similar to experiencing good things.

Again, you felt like you didn't deserve to feel good things.

You didn't even think you deserve to mourn him.

You weren't like Jeongguk. You didn't get to be with your father and you most certainly didn't make him happy.

You didn't make your father happy so it was only fair that guilt was eating you alive.

Except you didn't think that. Deep down, you knew that it was unfair.

When the person you didn't get along with died before you did, other people would accuse you of being hypocritical if they saw that you felt bad.

You would also be left with a pang of regret because you didn't treat the now dead person better when they were still alive.

They didn't treat you better too. So why? Why were you the only one suffering? Why were you the only one left here to dwell on regret?

You hated that this was how the world worked. Couldn't bygones be bygones? Couldn't you really mourn your own father?

But most importantly, you hated that there wasn't any closure between you and your father.

You didn't get the chance to apologize.

And now that Taehyung was giving you the chance to say how sorry you were to your father, you were acting up—thinking that you didn't deserve to technically be 'forgiven'

It was all so confusing.

But you were more confused as to why Taehyung implied that you indeed didn't deserve to experience good things.

Was his reason the same as yours?

Well, it wasn't. Taehyung explained what he thought.

"You know what I come to love and hate about humans?"

You shook you head. You didn't know.

Taehyung pouted his lips, he was trying to light the candle placed on Areum's headstone.

You didn't see the point since the wind was blowing hard.

"It is their goal to always be happy." He groaned when the wind harshly extinguished the fire of the candle again.

He lit another match, refusing to give up.

"Humans are always striving to be happy," he repeated once more. Same thought, different words used.

He claimed that he loved this since he could use this unending desire to tempt them. But Taehyung also hated it because of the discontentment they felt despite having everything provided to them.

Humans didn't have any satisfaction, always aiming for better and greater things.

"Is that wrong?" You arched your brow.

"No." The devil lit another match. "I guess it's just tiring."

You felt like everyone around you kept on speaking things you didn't understand.

Were they complicated or were you just slow?

"Don't you feel tired? You always say you don't deserve good things, but really—" He momentarily stopped lighting the candle just to look at you.

"—it's futile. You associate good things with being happy, right? So what if you just stop." Taehyung dropped the box of matches.

"Stop trying to strive for good things. What if instead of happiness, you just simply seek what's tolerable?"

It was the first time you clearly understood someone without asking them to explain any further.

But he still did. He continued speaking his mind.

"You don't always have to be happy to say that you are living 'the life,' sometimes it's better to just aim for something that is not happy nor sad. As long as you can bear something, it should be enough, right?"

You honestly had no idea why such words were coming from a devil like him.

Was he possessed?

But wait—“Are you telling me to stop classifying things?"

"That's not what I said—oh." Taehyung smiled when he realized what you meant.

"Yes, that's exactly what I'm saying."

If you didn't categorize what felt good and what felt bad, you wouldn't have to worry about the guilt you felt.

You would just do things because that's what felt right.

Visiting your father was something right.

You owed it to him, not to yourself.

You were apologizing for him and not for yourself.

"For someone who claimed to be the devil, you sure act a lot like you're human," you shook your head, a smile gracing your lips.

You appreciated the things he said even though you knew that he was only doing this to save himself. He probably learned all of this by reading books on how to deal with a suicidal person.

"Whatever," Taehyung rolled his eyes at you. "So what now? Do you wanna visit your father?"

"Probably. But not now,"

Busan was far from Seoul. You would need more than a day if you went there. That's not possible at the moment since you were aware that you had used all of your emergency and vacation leave.

It's about time you stop abusing your privilege as the niece of the owner of Cornelia Hospital.

Unless...

"You can teleport us to Busan, right?"

Taehyung's face crumpled.

"Yeah, about that..." He averted your gaze. "I can't."

"Why?" Was he lying? You had seen him teleport multiple times already.

"Because..." He was crossing his arms as if he was annoyed. "I'm powerless now."

Taehyung explained that it’s because he used all of his power to heal Cha Eun Hye and erase some of her memories from months ago.

"I thought you can only tempt people?"

You were confused. He said devils couldn't harm people without the permission of God.

"Yes, but we can erase memories of people when the reason why it happened was because of us," Tae caressed your left shoulder. "Cha Eun Hye isn't lying, you know? She isn't blaming you for what happened to Areum. She only said those mean things to you because I fed her with lies,"

Taehyung thought that it was only fair to erase those bad memories. This was the reason why Areum's mom kept calling you to make sure you were alright. She had been treating you as if you were her daughter.

She cared for you.

You didn't understand before why she was acting like that, but now you knew.

Mrs. Cha Eun Hye was a good person.

"The last time I used my power was when I teleported your brother back to your apartment. I considered erasing his memories because I know it isn't fair to drag him into my world,"

You agreed. All hell broke loose when Taehyung informed you that Jeongguk knew that the former was a devil.

You were so mad at Taehyung that day, luckily he convinced you that it would benefit your brother since he wouldn't be confused as to why Park Jimin was looking after him.

It all worked out in the end. Jeongguk called you yesterday to say that he was having a good time at Bangtan University. The presence of Park Jimin made his stay there even more fun.

"But I can't use my power anymore because—"

Taehyung wasn't able to finish what he was saying because instead of words, it was blood that came out of his mouth.

"Oh, my God!" Your eyes widened.

Your instinct as a doctor got the best in you. Panic and fear weren't in your system. You only did what you needed to do to help stop the pain he was going through.

"I'm okay," the devil said, stopping you from aiding him.

"This is okay." And then he gestured at his mouth.

You stopped to listen to him.

He explained that he had been going through this for months already. It was normal because he hadn't been back to hell for almost a whole year now.

Taehyung really spent his days by your side. Aside from this, he also hadn't collected any souls since his life connected with yours.

His power came from doing evil things, so now that he's acting like a good boy, his power was diminishing.

"So what should you do now?" You put your hands on your hips. "Do you need to tempt people? Or..." Your eyes dilated.

"Don't tell me you have to collect souls!?" This thought scared you.

You didn't think you could stomach the fact that he had to urge people to kill themselves.

"Nah," luckily Taehyung only let out a hearty laugh at your assumptions.

"It's true that I can just tempt someone, but I can also just give into one of the capital vices,"

The seven deadly sins were evil so it shall do the trick.

"Oh yeah?" The corner of your mouth quirked up. The worry you felt turn to mischief.

At least he didn't have to collect souls.

"What's your vice, then?"

Taehyung took in your appearance. He noticed your furrowed brow, your playful smirk, and the fact that you were just so...

...Beautiful.

"Greed." He simply said, void of any emotion.

You swallowed hard.

"Greed for?" You inched towards him.

Taehyung ran his tongue through his lower lip. Without a warning, he encircled his hands on your waist, pulling your body closer to him.

It caused you to let out a gasp, though he could tell that you weren't really surprised.

You wanted this.

You were playing with fire.

The look you two were exchanging was full of fire too, and this very moment made Taehyung smirk.

It was funny.

Funny that he had to associate bible verse and logic when he was trying to figure out why he wanted to save you.

But as it turned out, he only needed common sense.

What he felt towards you was simple. It was in his nature as the devil after all.

Greed.

Taehyung didn't just care for you.

Taehyung also wanted you.

It was proven to be true by his strong greed to hold your hand, the greed to be with you, the greed to see you, and the greed to...

"Kiss you,"

There was no time to process things.

Taehyung crashed his mouth against yours, finally giving into his vice.

You tasted sweet, just like he had expected.

You also tasted fire, something that was making his body felt hot.

You tasted like wine, making him feel drunk on happiness.

He was the hypocrite here.

He hated humans for always wanting more, but he was just like them—always craving more.

Taehyung craved you and boy he could only hope that you craved him too.

He didn't have to hope actually, at least not when you decided to kiss him back.

It was clear.

You were greedy too.

#ficswithluv #kim taehyung #taehyung fanfic #bts taehyung #taehyung x you #taehyung x oc #taehyung x y/n #taehyung x reader #taehyung fluff #taehyung angst #taehyung series #taehyung devil au #devil taehyung #demon taehyung #taehyung fantasy au #taehyung roommate au #roommate taehyung

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xpeachesncream · 3 years

Text

acquainted | ten

> series masterlist | series playlist <

summary: the biggest goal of a grad student is to get through school in one piece - no petty drama involved, no sweating over the little things. however, that plan almost always never follows through. sometimes, you can’t help but fall into the most unthinkable, unexpected traps and learn the hard way. like, exhibit a: being unable to resist your engaged, substitute teacher, kim seokjin.

pairing: jungkook x reader x engaged!teacher!seokjin

genre: grad school au, student life au | fluff, angst, smut

words: 2.7k

warnings: cussing, mature language/implied sexual content, jealousy, some good car sex w/ breast play, straddling, fingering, a lil spit play

note: to the anon who requested the one shot, i promise i have it done - i can’t post it juuuust yet tho lol

tags: @laurynne5 @yiyi4657 @miinoongi @teamtardis-notdead @bluesharksandfish @photographic-girl @yonkoghan @moonchild1 @thebeebi (pls msg me if you would like to be added to the taglist!)

"How was your date, Jungkookie?" Hoseok asks as he forks into his salad. Jungkook sits in front of Hoseok and Yoongi, while Namjoon and Jin sit off to either of his sides. Kook does a simple chuckle with his nose scrunched as he's digging into his fries.

"Good." He smirked.

"Oooh, Jungkookie has a girlfriend!" Hoseok laughed, causing both Namjoon and Jin to shoot looks at each other while shifting in their seats.

"No, but I hope to ask her out."

"Wait, like really ask her to be your girlfriend?" Yoongi chimed in, his gummy smile coming forth with a small high-pitched laugh. "How cute."

"Yeah, I want to. Not right at this moment, but I've already been planning on how to have this talk with her about being exclusive."

"Aw, our Kookie is growing up!"

"Shut up." Jungkook laughs. "I just really like her. She's beautiful, and smart and fun to be around."

"Are you seeing her today?"

"No, but I'm gonna hang out with her tomorrow. She has stuff to get done."

"Do you see her a lot?"

"A good amount, but I try not to suffocate her."

"Jin, you haven't said anything. What's up with you?" Jin looks up from his plate, eyes quickly roaming between all of them.

"Sorry, I just knew all of this already. It's nothing unexpected." He gives off a fake chuckle.

"Grace issues?" He shrugged.

"Sure, but this isn't about me." They nod and shift their attention back to Jungkook. Whew.

"Have you gotten her in bed?"

"Woah, Yoongi? What the fuck." Namjoon laughed.

"I'm just curious and we're always honest with each other right?" Joon shoots Jin a quick look before shaking his head at Yoongi.

"No." Kook chuckled. "I mean I don't care for it much. If she isn't ready to take that step with me then I won't force her."

"What a gentleman! Jin you taught him well." They laughed. Jin is reciprocating the energy with a small smile, as that's the best he can do right now. He didn't want this topic to come up only because he did already know how Jungkook felt about you. Yes, he felt bad, but also, he didn't want to let up on you. He wasn't going to, and Namjoon can easily tell he wasn't over you even though he told Jungkook to go for it. He hated having this silent competition. He knew his feelings for you were growing and he couldn't help but feel like a child over it.

I saw her first. I got her first. Me. Not you.

And so their conversation over an early dinner gets put to rest, Jin thanking God that no one pressed him more about Grace or why he truly wasn't saying much. They were all too caught up in Jungkook's feelings. All, except Namjoon. Jin gets to his classroom a little early to get himself together for class, gathering all his thoughts and feelings about you, Jungkook, Grace, etc., and pushing it to a far, far corner in his mind. At least, until class is over.

[Namjoon] 5:04pm: You couldn't be any more obvious.

[Jin] 5:05pm: What are you talking about now?

[Namjoon] 5:05pm: You're still seeing her. Or, let me rephrase - You're still trying to pursue her even after you told your brother to go for it.

[Jin] 5:06pm: It's complicated.

[Namjoon] 5:06pm: Seokjin, please. What did I tell you? Don't start this mess.

[Jin] 5:07pm: It'll be fine, okay? I appreciate the concern but stop worrying about me.

He sighs as he paces around the front of his room. The real reason as to why you weren't hanging out with Jungkook tonight was because of him. He needed to see you. Feel you. Touch you. Be close to you. There was also something he needed to bring up, hoping you'd agree to it.

Namjoon was right. The concern is valid. However, if things pull through the way Seokjin expects it to, then he knows what he has to do from there. He'll know how to approach this better. Hopefully.

Seeing you in class makes him feel at ease. He loves the little smiles you send his way when you both make eye contact. He just loves to look at you. Smiling and laughing with your friends. Your serious face when it's time to focus. He has it bad for you.

"Alright, class. Get those in to me on time by next week and I'll think about the movie." Jin laughs as the class has mixed reactions while packing up their things.

"But Mr. Kim it's a really good movie, don't you think we deserve a little break in class?" Taehyung whines as he picks up his bag.

"I always think you guys deserve a break, the movie though? Not sure if it's my cup of tea."

"Awww come on, just once." The class whined, making Jin laugh that adorable laugh he has. It was cute to see how adored Jin was by your classmates. He truly was a great teacher and made it a safe environment for everyone. Completely inclusive.

"I'll sleep on it. See you guys next week." He smiles and flashes a wink at a couple of people leaving the classroom saying their goodbyes. He stands at the front, his hands dug into his pockets as he looks at you and Ryujin coming down the steps - always being the last to leave.

"I'm counting on you, Mr. Kim." Ryujin says, flipping her hair.

"Counting on me for what?"

"The movie." She turns to look at you. "And other things." You shove her out the door before looking over at Jin, who hasn't stopped chuckling.

"You heard her." He nods.

"Pick you up in a few?" He asks, almost at a whisper. You return the nod and smile before walking out. You silently walk next to Ryujin, thinking about what tonight would be about. Not gonna lie, you were excited to be alone with him again, even if that meant being in his car, sitting in silence. The thought alone made you happy. The thought made you push through the day just to get to this point.

"Are you seeing him?"

"Yeah." Is all you respond to Ryujin with.

"Be careful, okay?"

"I know." Ryujin knew you weren't going to let up on Jin easily. She too, just like Namjoon, could tell that you had developed deep feelings for him, yet she just didn't know how you would approach it. Whatever it was though, she was going to have your back and be there for you. She just wished you had told the boys because handling you alone is work! Extra support would have been nice!

Getting home, you toss your things aside and start working on a few assignments until Jin is texting you that he's outside of your building. You feel a little nervous, as if it's a first date when it's really not. You step out of the elevator and into the lobby, just to see him ahead in the driver's seat. He has one hand resting along the wheel while he's scrolling through his phone in the other.

"Hey." You say as you hop into the passenger's seat. He puts his phone down and looks at you, his head tilted towards you and rested against the headrest.

"Hey pretty girl." He softly smiles as he leans over to kiss you on the lips. "Want some ice cream?" You laugh.

"Really?"

"Yeah, why not?" He begins to drive off, taking you to a nearby ice cream joint.

"How was your day today?" You ask him as he's roaming the streets looking for parking.

"It was alright. Went to work for a bit and met up with the boys for an early dinner before class."

"How was that?" He keeps his eyes on the road.

"Mm, good. I love sitting around and hearing about my brother's feelings for you." You chuckle at his sarcasm.

"You're dramatic."

"Call it what you want." He says. "It's still not fair."

"You can do something about it, you choose not to though." You straight up tell him. He parks his car and looks over at you, a small smirk plastered on his face.

"So, do you want me to do something about it?"

"Jin, please. Don't turn this on me. You're the one whining." You get out of the car. It was true. He kept talking about Jungkook and how he couldn't stand it, but yet, his ass was over here doing absolutely nothing. You expected that much though, because what? Was he just going to up and leave his fiancé because of a little jealousy? You honestly didn't think it was that deep for Jin. Maybe a little bit of a competition, but nothing too serious. And that was honestly the most painful realization for you.

You probably weren't worth it.

"I'm not whining, love. Trust me." You subtly roll your eyes at the weak comeback, but you don't throw in a rebuttal. Were you worth it? It was hard to read Jin sometimes. There were days where you felt like this could be more, then there were days where you felt dumb as hell for even having the thought cross your mind.

Like right now, you feel like this could be more with the way he's letting you taste his ice cream, his hand below your chin to catch any melting ice cream from dripping onto your clothing. He takes his cone back to his lips at the same time he's raising the napkin to the corners of your lips. You're both sitting in his car, overlooking the bay and the San Francisco skyline view in his back seat. There's a walking trail in front of the small lot his car is currently parked in, but no one is around. It's just you, Seokjin and your ice cream cones.

"Mmmm, thank you." You say gobbling up the last bit of your cone.

"You're welcome." He chuckles. "How was your day?" You shrugged.

"Same old." You fold your leg onto the seat while the other draped over it just so you could turn and look at Jin. You lean your head against the seat, watching him eat the last bits of his cone. You admired him, and you couldn't help but marvel at how absolutely breathtaking he was. The goddamn nerve. He was literally sitting there in a hoodie and jeans and you thought he was the most endearing thing.

"Sounds fun." He clears his throat as he tosses the napkin into the cup holder in front.

"Why'd you bring me out here?"

"I just wanted to see you. Is that too much to ask for?" He looked at you. "I missed you."

"You see me in class."

"It's not the same and you know it." He cocks his head to the side again to look at you. "Come here." He grabs your hand to pull you closer to him and leans in for a kiss. You rest your hand on his neck as you continue to kiss him back, the sounds of slow kisses being exchanged filling the car. You climb onto his lap as the kiss deepens, your hands gripping Jin's face while his warm, soft hands explored inside your sweater. "You drove me crazy the other night." He whispers as you slightly pull away.

"Good." You respond, bringing your lips back onto his, slowly grinding your hips into his.

"Fuck." He hisses. He quickly aids in removing your leggings before unbuckling his jeans. You feel his hardened member underneath his boxer briefs against your clothed folds, causing you to slightly tilt your head back in pleasure. You feel his hands travel up to your bra, unhooking it and raising your sweater to suck on your nipples freely. You feel his tongue working in circular motions on your hardened bud, causing you to let out a breathy moan. His eyes wander up to your face, slightly shutting close when he sees how much you're enjoying this. He moves to the other breast, his free hand cupping the one he had just removed himself from, tongue exploring your nipple. His hand moves down to aggressively hook your panties to the side, giving him room to swipe his fingers up and down your wet folds.

"Oh shit." You slightly jerk at the sensation, his long fingers taking their sweet time spreading your wetness all around your pussy.

"You're so fucking wet." He keeps his eyes on you and watches your eyes roll to the back of your head when he inserts two digits, pumping them in and out. It's incredibly hot to him how fucking wet you are, the sounds of your pussy now echoing in the car.

"Jin, ohhhhshit." You mewl. "I'm gonna cum." He continues to pump his long fingers into you, the feeling of both pain and pleasure radiating throughout your body. He curves his digits upwards, tickling your core to send you hurdling over the edge. You buck in your position from how hard the orgasm hits you, Jin's wet fingers swiping your folds and gently caressing your sensitive clit. You squeal, the overstimulation becoming a little overbearing but it feels so fucking good. You unbury his hardened member from his boxer briefs, letting your spit dribble down onto his cock as you play with the pre-cum pooling at the head.

"Oh fuck, Y/N. Don't do that shit." He tilts his head back in pleasure. You silently chuckle as you jerk him, getting his dick a little wet before hopping on and filling yourself up with it.

"Ugh, why do you feel so fucking good?" You moan as you fix your position onto him, slowly riding him and easing your way into it. You slip his two fingers into your mouth to taste yourself, his fingers still dripping from your cum.

"I-I've been wanting to fuck you so badly." He lets out a breathy moan. "The things you do to me."

"Yeah?" You say, picking up the pace as his hands guide your hips and direct your pace.

"Just like that, baby." He groans. You love when he called you baby. It made you want to give him all of you.

Your hands are resting on his shoulders, gripping tightly as you grind your hips in a steady motion. You cock your head back in pleasure, Seokjin's hands gripping your breasts. You begin to roll your hips slowly, a louder moan erupting from both him and you.

"I'mgonnafuckingcum." Your words mesh together, unable to speak clearly at how good he feels deep inside of you.

"You're so tight. God, you feel so good, gonna cum with you." Sooner or later, a roll of the hip or two in, your coil is spiraling out of control, causing you to yell Jin's name as you scratch onto his clothed shoulders, his fingers digging deep into your skin as he fills you up at the same time you're milking his dick.

His head slowly raises from against your chest, his cheeks tinted and eyes slightly glazed. He smiles up at you, his lips locking with yours once more before you climb off to clean yourself.

"Y/N." He says, tucking himself back in and getting himself situated in the seat.

"Hm?" You hook your bra back together and fix your sweater.

"I'm going to LA this weekend for a quick business conference." You furrowed your eyebrows, unsure why he was telling you this. It's not like you asked him for a daily play by play.

"Okay, have fun?" You chuckle.

"Meet me there." He looks at you. "I have to be there by Friday morning, but I know you still have work and school."

"Meet you.. in LA?" He nods.

"I really want you to. I'll buy your plane ticket. But also, know that I'm not forcing you." He slightly sighs. "I just wanna be able to spend time with you and do other things together besides fucking each other's brains out."

"Um," is all you can respond with. Because hell to the fuck yes you wanted this. But you weren't sure why you were hesitating? Maybe it was a big jump and you were scared of taking it? The lies you'd have to tell people about where you would be going this weekend? It was all such a mess. Such a huge, huge mess. Part of you also felt like this would be such an easy way for Grace to find out.

"You don't have to tell me your answer now but— just know it'll make me really happy to have you there with me." He looks at you softly, a small smile creeping at the corner of his lips. Perhaps, you were worth it.

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johns-prince · 3 years

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John also had a lovely mix of masculine and feminine physical traits, though this wouldn't become obvious until 1968. When he was on the skinny side (which I loved, sue me) you could tell how beautifully delicate and dainty his bone structure was, way more than Paul's imo. He had those gorgeous long legs and graceful narrow hips that you most commonly find in fashion models. And I love that until at least 1975, he showcased his body beautifully, especially those legs.

Ironically I feel as if people didn't embrace John's femme beauty as well as they did with Paul. I don't know why. Most people seem to prefer him with the more masculine look of 1966. Which was great as well, he was gorgeous but I am a big fan of the 1968 to 1974 run. Btw, note to fanfic writers: please, show John's body some love, I know Paul is stunning but it's kind of exhausting reading 10 pages about how pretty he is and when it comes to my boy John he barely gets a paragraph 😂

Alright, I feel like I’m probably gonna rub a lot of people in this fandom the wrong way with what I’m going to say but this is my blog and you did send this to my inbox so here we go; At the end of the days these are my thoughts and feelings and I might not articulate them very well or I often ramble till I do!

I have my issues, and a complicated relationship with 1968-70s John Lennon. I love John, and thought him healthy and just right in his body type, basically up until 1968, and it’s spotty onward throughout the 70s. To me, John was naturally masculine looking, there’s not exactly an era or year that I could give you like you gave me [Specifically 1966? What about his teddy boy days? All of the early 60s? Hell even throughout the 70s, to me John still was masculine looking to me] He was a bit awkward in his teenhood, but all the boys were, and gradually grew into his adult body. Boy was built and sturdy, naturally thick and strong.

So we’re probably split on this, because while you see the positives in 1968-1974/70s John, I only really see the negatives. You say skinny, I say malnourished and/or sickly. Depressed druggie who was pushing everyone and everything he loved away, and becoming pathetically dependent on an individual like Yoko [and the other vultures during that time who were terrible influences]

George was skinny, John was not well and either starving himself or simply using drugs and alcohol as the basis for his diet. And diets.. don’t even get me started on that, the diets he was on, the unhealthy lifestyle that his wife only seemed to enable and help him get on.

When I look at George, sometimes I get the need to feed him, like an old Mexican mother. When I look at John, who’d lost an unhealthy amount of weight for what it looked like for his body type, I don’t see delicate and dainty bone structure. I see a man who just, he’s not well, something’s wrong.

I’ll give it to you that 1974 New York photoshoot looked very nice, he had muscle again in his arms, though he was still relatively skinny, he didn’t look sickly, or depressed. So I can give you that period during the 70s, I will give you that [hey he was away from Yoko during this no fucking wonder he looked pretty good here] and that shoot was definitely a model moment, wasn’t it? [Not like he didn’t have many of those moments throughout his life]

So there moments in the seventies where I think John doesn’t look half bad? Even relatively fine? Certainly, I’m devastatingly attracted to this man, dear God almighty have mercy on my soul yes I am. So I’ll agree that yeah, there were periods during the 70s in which John seemed to hold himself fairly well, I’d still climb it.

But I’m at least willing to admit that when John started his spiraling, in 1968, that he was Not Okay. And I personally believe he wasn’t all that okay throughout most of the 70s too... Maybe my issue isn’t with him being ‘skinny’ as it is I don’t like the underweight/severely underweight look on John, I just don’t. The incredibly unhealthy way he went about losing weight... Physically frail doesn’t fit him, and it only upsets me whenever I see photos of him that show how thin his legs became or how you can see his ribs, just how wasted away he’d look at times throughout the 70s, up until the last days of his life.

You want a “skinny” or ''skinnier'' John Lennon? A healthy, ‘’skinny/skinnier’’ John Lennon for his body type, is ‘66 and ‘67 in my eyes, and even then it wasn’t a radical change in weight loss; John still looked like John.

And speaking of 1968-1969, or the White Album era; don’t think it isn’t lost on me when I see people making light of John’s unhygienic appearance during the making of the White Album. Boy was depressed and hurting for whatever reason, again, spiraling, and getting lost in Yoko and heroin as a means of escapism and someone to tell him ‘it’s alright it isn’t your fault it’s everyone else’s fault’. Of course he didn’t care much for his personal appearance or hygiene... I will say I appreciate your appreciation for him during that period, instead of getting the whole ‘stinky/smelly rat man.’ Maybe I’m too much of a ‘’stan’’ but I don’t find it very amusing or endearing.

Don’t find me mocking or ‘’teasing’’ Paul’s depressed ass and his appearance during the breakup period/white album era-- but I suppose it’s because Paul actually tried and wasn’t on hard drugs, and had a good wife, so he was able to wear his depression and struggle with alcoholism a bit better, hmm? I don’t like Paul’s beard simply because I know it was the result of his lack of energy, depression, and falling into the drink-- he simply didn’t feel the need nor had the energy to care for himself, so that’s why he let it grow out. I don’t like it because of that, but that’s as much as you’ll get from me.

Anyway... Maybe I just don’t see John as characteristically feminine/effeminate as Paul, although he has his moments of acting and wearing clothes that are campy and elegant or give off a softer appearance, specifically around 1968 and throughout the 70s. But otherwise, I can’t agree, John didn’t have the same mixture, or balance of masculine and feminine traits as Paul-- and if it’s only made obvious during the downfall turning point of The Beatles and John (1968), then I don’t think that really counts as a ‘’lovely’’ mix of masculine and feminine traits for the reasons I mentioned. So I’ve got to disagree. John's always come off as much more masculine, or naturally masculine, both physically and characteristically, to me.

You know maybe it’s just the blogs I interact with, but I feel like it’s the other way around. I know I can sometimes come off as aggressive but at the end of the day I don’t necessarily care what one person thinks or believes, since it’s all relatively subjective to our own ideas of things and biases, etc... I have my thoughts and beliefs and theories and whether people agree or disagree with them on tumblr dot com... Well, what’re you gonna do? Nothing, it’s not my problem.

What I 100% agree on you with is about showing Johnny’s body a bit more love and attention to detail when it comes to writing about him in fanfiction!

There’s his auburn red hair, a darker ginger, which was thick and fun to watch as it lit up like fire when sunlight hit him, and could easily go wavy and curl when left unkempt and natural. The splattered and scattered galaxies of light freckles up and down his arms, his shoulders, his back, even a couple on his face. His aquiline nose, a relatively square jawline and facial structure, thick, heavy eyebrows which really intensify expressions of rage and hurt, almond shaped eyes which are the color of honey-amber when the light hits them just right and outlined with thick, long lashes, blind as a bat without his glasses but can give a mean squint which either helps scare off trouble, or brings it right to him, especially when he’s got thin bitten lips that could pull off a devilishly cheeky smirk or a no-good, charming grin to showcase teeth with the upper front turned slightly in towards each other, gives that imperfection which truly just perfects it-- a face like that of a tragic hero in a Greek Romance, distinctive and handsome. How he just oozed filthy sex and genuine trouble, sweaty leather and smoky dancehalls and rock & roll that crawls up your spine like an orgasm. Hips that could roll like Elvis and strong legs, thick thighs which would make a lovely place to sit. Broad shoulders, strong arms that could easily manage to lift you up and manhandle you in any way he’d like. Big hands, almost like shovels-- beautiful hands, with fingernails usually bitten short and occasionally had black ink or charcoal under them from when he’d be working on art, and rough, callused fingertips from playing guitar till they split and bleed, add a lovely roughness to any gentle touching he might do. A naturally thick midsection, a normal, healthy layer of fat which covers the sinewy just beneath. Any hair is light, light and lightly colored, on his arms and legs and chest. Cute tush, nice butt, a nice boy butt, slightly muscular bubble butt.

Fun facts; he had the largest feet out of all four Beatles. John isn’t circumcised. John and George share the same height. John has a surprisingly long tongue. John’s skin tone may be light, but for comparison, he’s much tanner compared to Paul-- he’s a bit more olive or wheat to his skin tone, and tanned very, very well. John’s cheeks could become easily red though. John liked the scent of citrus to wear-- he was also self conscious about the fact he could easily sweat and so usually wore such colognes or scents, didn’t want to smell bad. He started smelling of witch hazel when with Yoko. Despite his issue with sweating, he didn’t smell bad naturally. John was a true romantic, being an artist outside of being a musician/rock and roller-- he just didn’t like to show it, and growing up in his time, you couldn’t. John’s a swimmer, he loved to swim and loved the ocean.

#questionsquestionsquestions #beatles discussion/discourse #these are my feelings and thoughts and i can't feel bad for them

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