#when you think ‘oh I’ll do some screen cap studies’ and then you punch yourself in the feels

[daggerbeanart]

#dragon age #da2 #dragon age 2 #fenris #hawke #m!hawke #oc: gareth hawke #(​kinda blurry worrying in the background but he’s there) #da fanart #dragon age fanart #cw blood #1/? #when you think ‘oh I’ll do some screen cap studies’ and then you punch yourself in the feels #i’m not really happy with the way i did his lines #maybe i’ll find something better when i look at the complete thing whenever that is #or leave them out idk #the images pretty much speak for themselves

[iron--spider]

my favorite superhero

Tony sits there, cuffed to a chair in whatever the hell facility this is, and he stews. He doesn’t enjoy being kidnapped—his ego always takes a hard hit when he allows it to happen, and now that the end of the world has come and gone, he figured this kind of shit would fall off.

 But he stews, particularly angry, because this one is personal.

 Justin Hammer paces back and forth in front of him. He’s a little weightier than he was when Tony last saw him, sporting a patchy, uneven beard and what looks like a borrowed suit. Still an asshole.

 “Haven’t I been through enough?” Tony asks, twisting his hands in the cuffs behind his back. The iron arm is just not strong enough to break whatever the hell these are made of, and he’s angry because Justin thought ahead. When does Hammer think ahead, ever? 

 “Honestly,” Tony continues. “I’ve got kids now, you’ve gotta stop stalking me. I lost my arm saving the fucking world—apparently whatever the hell repercussions of all that got you out of prison, surely through no lawful avenues, so you’re welcome, by the way.”

 “Thank you very much, Mr. Stark,” Hammer says, pointing over at him. 

 “No, you know what, you’re not welcome. I take it back.”

 “You can’t take it back, you said it,” Hammer says, crossing his arms over his chest and holding his head high.

Tony sighs and looks away. There’s what looks like a kind of forcefield around where he’s sitting, and he sighs even harder. The room isn’t too large, with a vaulted ceiling, and Hammer’s situated himself on the platform in front of what looks like a couple empty offices. He prances back and forth above the few stairs that lead down to where Tony is, so he can stay above him.

 “You know, I’m really proud of this,” Hammer says, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “This whole thing, right? So I snag you, and then we set off that bomb threat over in Midtown, so all your other super buddies fly over there and just think you’re slacking on the job when you don’t show up. Because you’re still handling the lower level shit like that, I know what you’re doing. I even think that Strange guy is over there, so they’re all there and they’re probably all judging you for not helping.”

 “Cute,” Tony says, bitter.

 “And this place is state of the fucking art, Anthony, like this could be the Queen’s bunker, and I’ve got all the buddies that left the Raft with me protecting the perimeter—chiseled, rugged guys just—ready to beat the shit out of everybody—”

 “Nice, the guys that left the Raft with you, like you’re on vacation—”

 “AND we’ve got you in vibranium handcuffs, you’re welcome, your pal in Wakanda’s gonna be real pissed when he realizes how far into the villain layer his shit has gotten—”

 Tony looks at him, brows furrowed. “Villain layer? Layer—layer of villains? Is that what you were trying to say? And you’re including yourself there? Or like, lair of villains, like their lair where they keep their stuff—but that doesn’t really work—”

 “No, just, shut up,” Hammer says. “Forget it. But that—yeah, vibranium handcuffs, so you’re not getting out any time soon even with your shiny new arm. And that forcefield is brand new Hammer tech, even if your buddies did fly over here once they’re done with their nice little distraction, they’re not smart enough to take down the encryptions, not even Banner, I checked into his degrees and what he studied and covered all my bases.”

 Tony’s bitterness is mutating into something else, something more bitter and why the shit can’t this asshole leave him alone? 

 “Congratulations,” he says. “Today marks the first day in history that you weren’t a complete dumbass.”

 “Thank you, thank you very much,” Hammer says, bending over in a deep bow, hands whipping with a flourish. “I thought about every variable, every avenue, now we just need Miss Pepper Wifey to answer my calls and—”

 Tony experiences a flash of anger at that, and then a high pitched tone starts going off in his ears, and now he feels like a dumbass. 

 Peter. Was with Pepper. 

 Peter.

 Like a shining light in the darkness and someone Hammer has clearly not paid attention to despite all his fucking planning, because he would have mentioned it amongst all the other bragging. Spider-Man isn’t an official Avenger yet to the world, just among the group. And Peter would never think Tony is slacking. Because Peter just doesn’t think that way. 

 Tony’s heart warms, because even though there’s no indication, he knows Peter is coming to get him.

 “You know what?” Tony asks, looking up at Hammer again and interrupting whatever dumb shit he was saying. “I was wrong. You’re still a dumbass.”

 Hammer stares at him. “What? No I’m not. Why? But I’m not.”

 “You are,” Tony says, glancing away. “I’m not telling you why.”

 “Oh Jesus, Tony, c’mon,” Hammer says, waltzing down the couple of stairs from the platform he was standing on, like the supreme idiot he is. “You’re such a—”

 He stops, abruptly, and pulls out a small tablet from his pocket. His eyes narrow.

 Here we go. Let’s go Spider-Man. 

 It’s faster than Tony could have imagined, and he looks on eagerly. “Oh, what’s that? What’s going on? A little hiccup, maybe?”

 “Gotta be some kind of bullshit,” Hammer says. “Super friends are all at the coordinates I set them up at, my guys checked, my guys—oh my God, Raul.”

 “Oh my God, is Raul okay?” Tony asks, flexing his fingers a bit behind his back. “Where’s Raul, is Raul here? Is something wrong—is Raul sick?”

 Hammer glances up at him but he’s shaking more now, and his pacing gets more panicky and stilted. He holds the tablet with one hand and taps on some kind of ear com with the other, and Tony shifts back in his chair a bit, relaxing. 

 “Jason, Jason, can you hear me? Are you there? Buddy, the whole reason I gave you this earpiece is so you can report when I need you to report—”

 He gasps, dramatically, and looks up at Tony.

 “Not good?” Tony asks, raising his eyebrows. “Not good news? Did they go on dinner break early? So hard to find good help these days.”

 “Do you know somebody else?” Hammer asks. “I thought the Avengers were very exclusive, I thought you didn’t chat with all the other ragtag Times Square assholes.”

 Tony leans forward and stares at him just as all these red, fiery lights start going off on the ceiling, and Hammer looks up and around, dropping the tablet and letting it shatter. Tony catches a glimpse of it now that he can see the screen, and he watches as guard after guard goes from green to red.

 He looks back up at Hammer and grins, full of pride. “You don’t know shit about me if you don’t know who my favorite superhero is.”

 And with that, the door behind Hammer opens and the lights snap out, only leaving the soft purple glow of the force field around Tony amongst inky darkness. His heart leaps when he hears a gun go off, three times with angry ricochet, and then he hears Hammer shrieking like a little girl, followed by the unmistakable sound of Peter’s webs and a body falling to the floor.

 Tony sits there in darkness and silence for a long moment.

 “Uh, Spidey?” Tony asks, blinking in the purple glow. “Where are you, bud? You okay?”

 The lights click back on and he sees Peter kneeling on the ground, checking Hammer’s pulse. 

 “Oh thank God. You okay?” Tony asks again. “He didn’t shoot you, right? The asshole.”

 “No, he didn’t shoot me,” Peter says. He pulls off his mask and stuffs it in his belt, looking up at Tony with a grimace. “He just, like. Passed out. I didn’t even punch him. I was gonna hit him, like, to knock him out, but he was already passed out and I didn’t even use impact webs, Tony.”

 Tony snorts. “It’s fine, that’s just how he is.” He grins at Peter. “Thanks for coming, kid.”

 “Duh,” Peter says, approaching him.

 “I’m sure he’s got a computer around here or something, so you can disable the forcefield—”

 “Yeah, I already did that,” Peter says, walking right through it, and Tony watches, mouth agape. “For some reason he had a stealth mode, and I was able to mirror that and it put it on standby for twenty minutes.”

 Tony nods. “Alright, shit, that’s great, okay, plenty of time to figure out the handcuffs, find a key or something—”

 Peter walks around behind him and kneels down. “He was stupid enough to alter them and add a code and a second latch.” 

 Tony feels him do something, and then the handcuffs drop off, like nothing. He laughs, feeling a little lightheaded, and he gets up, turning around to face the kid.

 He feels completely and utterly in awe of him. He always knew Peter would surpass him, but he has with such grace and candor and it’s—amazing.

 Peter puffs out his chest and points down. “One day, I’m gonna be able to break vibranium with my own strength, and then I’ll tell King T’Challa—”

 Tony nearly launches himself at him, wrapping him up in a hug. He ruffles Peter’s hair and pats him on the back, sighing and holding him close. “I’m very proud of you. Very very. Really very.”

 “Oh,” Peter says, holding onto him. “Really?”

 “Shit, of course,” Tony laughs, wondering if he doesn’t say it enough or if that’s just Peter, always doubting himself. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. Go on.”

 “No, I’m—I was done. I’m just—I’m just gonna tell him.”

 Tony hugs him for a couple more long moments before letting go, pulling back and gripping his shoulders in continued appreciation of what he’s done here. “You’re the best, you know that? Better than Cap or Bruce. Better than all of them. Number one.”

 “Nah,” Peter says, but he’s grinning. 

 “That idiot,” Tony says, pointing over at Hammer, encased in webbing, “is one of my worst enemies.”

 Peter narrows his eyes. “Really?”

 Tony lets his arms drop. “Well. Definitely the most irritating.”

 Peter laughs. “C’mon, let’s get out of here. Don’t get mad, but I took one of the quinjets to come get you. But Friday flew the whole way so it’s technically like, not that bad.”

 Tony scoffs as they head for the way Peter came in, the red lights still flashing and indicating the absolute fucking wreck Spider-Man left Hammer’s facility in. “Kid, that quinjet? It’s yours now, I’m gifting it to you.”

 “Don’t say things you’ll take back later,” Peter says, leading him through the corridor, where a bunch of guys are webbed to the walls—some squirming, some still.

 “Nope,” Tony says, patting him on the back again. “I will not be taking that back.”

 “Okay,” Peter says, eyes wide with excitement as he grabs for his mask. “Then I would also like an Iron Man suit.”

 Tony scoffs and turns right when Peter does. “Okay, that—that we can negotiate.”

#tony stark #peter parker #iron man #spider-man #iron dad #my fics #and my fave villain #there he is #look at him

[themonkeycabal]

The Falcon and the Winter Soldier ep 2

Spoilers!

Last week Bucky was a terrible patient and his new BFF is the father of a guy he killed while he was the Winter Soldier (so super healthy), Sam gave up Cap's shield and returned home to try to help salvage the family business (that went poorly), and some — I guess he must be from the Defense Department — dick made a big speech about needing heroes and he gave the shield to some goober (John Walker, but he'll always be Goober to me) in a Cap suit who strongly reminded me of Langly from the Lone Gunmen. (I'm not familiar with the actor, so I don't know what he actually looks like, but the helmet and the camera angle did him no favors at all, I'm just saying. Super punchable.)

Oh, and Sam has an adorable little minion named Lt. Torres who is getting himself into trouble with some weirdass terrorist group who like to slap red handprints on everything.

Zemo's out there lurking, too, but we haven't seen him yet.

I'm still slightly dazed that this show is real and we get to watch it.

Ep2: The Star-Spangled Man

Weird slow-mo opening shot of a close up of somebody unzipping their jacket. I mean. Okay. (Ohhh, it's the garment bag the Cap suit is in.)

And then we're on to Goober, he's wearing BDUs and he's in a football locker room (maybe high school?), fondling the lockers. He peels a name sticker off one, and underneath it says JW 10. A woman comes in and asks if he's reliving his glory days. They yada yada I don't care.

Now I guess they're talking about him becoming Captain America. "Everybody in the world expects me to be … something. And I don't want to fail them." She tells him to be himself and that they're gonna love him. Well, I've already decided he's a goober. I mean, he might not be, but he's got a hill to climb with me.

He spends a few seconds trying out his Captain America voice, then his buddy Hoskins comes in to talk him through it and give us some exposition. "Two weeks ago we were prepping for a special ops mission to Chile and now this."

Goober whines about how it's been handshakes and meetings and senators and whatnot and he just wants to get to it. But his buddy is all, that's part of the job man. Gotta glad-hand, too. You big baby (he doesn't say that part).

"You can't just punch your way out of problems anymore." Well, I mean, I think that was Steve's MO, mostly. That and 'hit it with the shield until it stops moving'.

Nu Cap is making a big showy thing at a rally at his old high school (Custer's Grove HS, GA) stadium for Good Morning America. He's still looking punchable in that helmet. But, they do bring out a kicking marching band, so there's that. It's a boring GMA interview. I don't care.

"John Walker, first person in American history to receive three Medals of Honor. Ran RS-One missions in counter-terrorism and hostage rescue. The government did a study of your body at MIT and you tested off the charts in every measurable category — speed, endurance, intelligence." (I legit laughed out loud. Lookit Captain Gary Stu over here)

Blah blah super humble yada yada. Just wants to make people feel safe, he has sooooo much respect for Steve Rogers, yada. Look, he could be a great guy and maybe I'll warm to him. But not yet!

Back in Brooklyn, Bucky's watching this and his face is all "No! No? What the shit is this? NO! NO? WHU NO?! No." Also, Bucky, I know you have a couch, why are you sitting on the floor? Love yourself just a little bit, dude.

In Louisiana Sam is in an Air Force hanger, staring at a garish 'Cap is Back' poster and looking a little queasy. Rhodey told you, subtly and not really directly, to not give up the shield, buddy. I hope when Bucky gets there the first thing he says is "He gave the shield to *you*, dummy. Not Captain Gary Poppins over there."

Torres says Nu Cap seems like a good guy. Sam's like, uh-huh, sure, so anyway. There's another "cap is back" poster and Sam's like 'ugh'. And they're off to Munich. I guess for the Flag Bros. Hey! There's Bucky! Finally, they're in the same scene. It's been nearly sixty minutes of screen time to get to this moment, Marvel. No, I wasn't counting.

"Shouldn't have given up the shield." lol. Hi Bucky! You forgot to call him a dummy.

Sam's like I haven't got time for this. And Bucky points to the umpteenth Cap is Back poster (seriously? Good lord.) "You didn't know that was going to happen?"

  Sam did not know that was going to happen. "You think it didn't break my heart to see them march him out there and call him the new Captain America?"

Bucky will not let this go. "You had no right to give up the shield, Sam." You tell him!

But, Sam's kind of not in the mood. Look, I get it Sam, you didn't feel equal to the shield, but Steve gave it to you because he knows, my dude. Trust him. Come on.

But, he's feeling very raw about this, right now. "This is what you're not gonna do. You're not gonna come here in your overextended life and tell me about my rights." Well, ouch. 

He says he's got bigger things to worry about, but that seems unpossible to Bucky "What could be bigger than this?" Terrorist douchebags wearing funny masks in Eastern and Central Europe. Well, fine, Sam; be all puts-things-in-perspective guy.

Redwing traced the far-too-strong maybe leader to a place in Munich. For some reason Bucky does not have good feelings about Redwing. Uh-oh, Bucky, you're going to extra hurt Sam's feelings.

Oh lol, it's the "Big Three" convo. "What big three?" "Androids, aliens, and wizards." Still funny. Sam's so proud of himself.

"I'm coming with you." "No, you're not." Bucky went with him.

Did they glare at each other the whole way to Munich? lol. I love this show so much already.

"Enjoy the ride, Buck." "No, you can't call me that." "Why not? That's what Steve called you." "Steve knew me longer. And Steve had a plan." lol, Steve Rogers never had a plan a day in his life.

Bucky wants a chute, but Torres who wisely stayed out of all of that, is like we're way too low for a chute. "I don't need it anyway." Then Bucky drama school bitch rips off the left sleeve of his jacket and jumps out while yelling like the dumbass he is. And he hits every branch of the dumbass tree on his way to the ground.

"I have all of that on camera, you know that right?" And Redwing zooms by to hovers over Bucky. So, maybe it's not a mystery why he doesn't like Redwing. lol.

Bucky and Sam meet up at a dilapidated warehouse in the middle of the forest. Only good things ever happen in dilapidated warehouses in forests. Like extra shady weapons smuggling. Bucky's gonna stalk after them. Sam messes with him a bit.

"Look at you all stealthy. A little time in Wakanda and you come out White Panther." lol. ilu Sam. "It's actually White Wolf." "Huh?" heh. What he won’t tell you, Sam, is that he earned the name from the kids near his goat farm who liked to spy on and giggle at the grumpy growly white guy. 

"Hello. How are you?" "Great. What did I miss?" They're a delightful disaster! And they bicker and bicker and ahh, finally.

Also the people they're stalking are hella strong. And then these two idiots knock into an old bit of metal and make some noise. The shady people stop for a mo' but then move on. Sam scans one of the trucks the shady folks were loading (there are two), there's a figure sitting in the back. "There's an eighth person. I think they have a hostage." And Bucky zooms off! And Sam after him.

Bucky jumps onto the lead truck and then just like wanders around inside. I'm pretty sure the truck behind you noticed you, dummy. Anyway, it's loaded with crates marked "keep frozen." "They're stealing medicine. Vaccines." Those utter bastards. He spots a girl peeking out between containers. "Hi." lol, idiot.

He thinks it's the hostage, but I'm waiting for her to kick his butt out the door. She's not, you know, tied up in anyway. So … Also, again, does the second truck not have a radio to the first truck? Like was the driver texting while Bucky climbed up the back of the truck right in front of him? Now he's strangely incurious about the open door?

And, then she smiles at him and kicks him out the door, he hits the windshield of the second truck (maybe they've finally noticed you, Bucky!) and she puts on a mask with a red handprint. As you do. Two guys on the roof of truck 2, pull Bucky up ready to beat him silly.

Super strong girl, jumps over to truck two and punches Bucky some more. The Redwing zooms over and she jumps up, grabs it, and smashes it over her knee.

"I always wanted to do that," Bucky says, sad he didn't get the chance.

Sam shows up, there are more guys on the roof of the other truck. And there's fighting and fighting and then Sam is pinned down and the bad guy gets plonked with the shield and here comes Captain Poppins dropping down out of a helicopter. What timing. The CGI and green screen for this whole sequence are pretty dire. I'm sorry but it's true.

Captain Poppins is joined by his buddy Hoskins. "Sam. John Walker, Captain America." They know who you are, goober. Though, pausing to introduce yourself in the middle of the fight is a very Steve Rogers move, so points for that, Goober.

Lol, the look on Bucky's face when he catches the shield and Goober takes it from him. He's like 'rule two, rule two, rule two, remember rule two.'

Lots of fighting lots of fighting. Bucky is knocked off the side of the truck, he digs in and sort of zippers down the side, and then hangs off the bottom, his head inches from a tire, clinging to the underside by his vibranium arm. A bad guy stomps on it. Um, it's vibranium, guy. Like … though, somehow it works? and Bucky's arm sort of flops onto the road, sending up sparks. Sam does a neat little move, flies under the two trucks, grabbing Bucky as he goes, and knocking them both free.  None of that worked out particularly well, guys.

"Could have used that shield," Bucky says helpfully. lol. "Those were all super soldiers, Sam." Well, bummer.

Back on the trucks, I think Hoskins is in trouble. Cap Goober is pulling himself back up. Hoskins is thrown from the truck, but Cap Goober tosses the shield and Hoskins lands on that. Now Goober squares off against super soldier chick. He does not fare well. And he's thrown from the truck to land on the windshield of a following car. You know, if I'm driving down the road and I see people fighting on a pair of big rigs, I don't follow close. You know what I'm saying? I maybe pull over and let them get way far away from me. Anyway, sorry for your body damage.

Bucky and Sam walk along the road, a pair of sad sad heroes who did not have a plan.

"I'm sorry about Redwing." "No, you're not."

Cap Goober turns up in a sorry looking vehicle of some sort. "So that didn't go as planned." Bucky and Sam keep walking. lol

So Goober's vehicle keeps pace with the disaster duo. "We're pretty sure it's one of the Big Three."

Bucky: "THERE'S NO SUCH THING AS WIZARDS!" That's his hill, he'll die on it.

Since it's super soldiers, and that's bad news, Cap Goober thinks they should work together. Sam's quiet but not thrilled. Bucky is not quiet. "Just 'cause you carry that shield, it doesn't mean you're Captain America."

Cap Goober has apparently jumped on a grenade 4 times. "It's a thing I do with my helmet. It's reinforced." Okay, I laughed.

He persuades them to ride with him, because it's like 20 miles to the airport. It's probably for the best, since I'm pretty sure they might try to strangle each other in five.

"They (Flag Haters Anonymous) say their mission is to get things back to the way they were during the blip." This group's goals are so hazy and weird.

oh, lol. Sam wanted to know how they tracked the Flag Smashers, and Hoskins is like, um, actually, we tracked redwing. "It's not exactly hacking," Captain Goober explains, "it's government property. We're kind of the government." Not winning any points, Goober.

Bucky's just glaring at him.  "Does he always just stare like that?" lol

We get a bit of exposition about a group called the GRC, the Global Repatriation Council, which is tasked with helping the previously blipped reintegrate. Sam's like, okay, and? Hoskins explains "they provide the resources, and we keep things stable." The GRC sounds even more make believe than super soldiers, to be honest. But, whatever. Not here to analyze the bizarre and unlikely geopolitics of the MCU. Cap Goober makes a pitch for Sam and Bucky to sign up but Bucky is very firm about his "No".

Hoskins insists he has mad respect for them, but they were getting their asses kicked until he and goober showed up. Um, Hoskins, my dude, you also got your ass kicked.

Bucky stares for a second. "Who are you?" "Lamar Hoskins." Sam insists he needs more than that. "I'm Battlestar. John's partner."

Bucky says Mm hmm. Stop the car. And he's gone.

Cap Goober gives a pitch to Sam about how he's not trying to be Steve, or replace him, he's just trying to do his best and be the best Captain America he can, and it'd be great to have Cap's 'wingmen' on his side. I sense sincerity, but you're still punchable, goober. And Sam isn't buying it either. He shakes his head and laughs bitterly, "It's always that last line." He hops out and follows Bucky.

Elsewhere, the super terrorists have reached a safe house with a way too chatty dude who is trying to make them at home in his dicey looking shopfront. He rattles on about how they're becoming legends and the people love them because they're pushing back! Against … the GRC? I guess?

Super soldier girl (Karli) gets a hate text. "You took what is mine. I'm going to find you and kill you." Well, sleep tight, sister!

One of the other guys has already logged into a computer system and he starts hacking and wiping their info off the internets and interpol, I guess.

"Six months ago would you have imagined people supporting a cause like this?" I'm still very unclear on what your cause is.

Maybe I'm overthinking the silly superhero universe, but I can't imagine the blip world was wonderful. You're missing half the people. So half of everybody who'd do various jobs. So half of the knowledge base of humanity on earth. Half of the experience base of humanity on earth. Half of the farmers, half of the engineers, half of the doctors, half of the people who maintain any system you can imagine, half of the people who build those systems, half of the teachers, half of the factory workers, half of the grandparents who pass down stories and community knowledge, half of the animals, half of the fish, half of the insects and so half of the plants. Ecosystems could easily collapse. Certainly infrastructure did, with half of the people needed to maintain it gone. Cities would have started to crumble, since half of the sources of goods, food, and services were gone. (we did have something of a real-world equivalent in Europe during the Black Death. Things were not nice for quite a long while after the worst years of the plague.)

I'm sure there would be areas that did better than others. But, half of any government gone, half of any police, half of any military. There would be power vacuums and probably shitheads to fill them. I don't see any particular utopia in a blip-ified world.

And that's not even taking into account the psychological damage to all the unblipped. The pure existential horror of half of everything suddenly gone.

But, that aside. I like genuinely do not know what they're trying to achieve.  

"We're not playing no more," announces Karli. "We can't let the same assholes who were put back in power after the Blip win." Literally do not know what that means. "The GRC care more about the people who came back than the ones who never left." I mean … isn't that literally what they're for? "We got a glimpse of how things could be." Chaotic and apocalyptic? In fairness, I guess if you could carve out your own thing in that, and maybe it could even be good, then you'd be bitter if everybody came back all of a sudden and messed that up. I'm sure the power struggles are real.

"One world! One people!" Okaly-dokaly. Fascinated to see how you eight will achieve that.

Bucky's brooding on a plane, Sam's trying to sleep but the brooding is too much to ignore.

"You alright?" "Let's take the shield, Sam. Let's take the shield and do this ourselves." He's using his almost scary Winter Soldier voice. And staring into the void. Sam, call his doctor. She needs to remind him of rules one and two. "We can't just run up on a man, beat him up, and take it." Good point, Sam. For real, call Bucky's doctor. He's going to the scary illegal place.

"Do you remember what happened the last time we stole it?" "Maybe." lol such a petulant little grumpus you are, Bucky. "I'll help you in case you forgot. Sharon was branded an enemy of the state and Steve and I were on the run for two years." Not everybody was lucky enough to have a goat farm during all that, Bucky. That's what the man's saying.

"We just got our ass handed to us by super soldiers and we got nothing." "That's not entirely true," Bucky says mysteriously. And he jumps down off his brooding crate to go sit next to Sam. "There is someone that you should meet."

Baltimore, Maryland

Sam has a cute aside with a neighborhood kid, then Bucky leads him up to a house that has seen better days. Somebody answers the door and Bucky says they're there to see Isaiah. But, the young guy who answers the door insists there's no Isaiah there. He's not very welcoming. Bucky says "tell him the guy from the bar in Goyang is here." The things you got up to, Bucky. I do wonder. "We had a skirmish during the Korean war." oh, lol. I mean, I'm sure it's a horrible story, but lol, Bucky you disaster.

Oh hey, Carl Lumbly! Gosh, I haven't seen him in an age. I almost didn't recognize him.

"He was a hero. One of the ones that Hydra feared the most. Like Steve. We met in '51." "If by met, you mean I whupped your ass, then, yeah." lol

Isaiah says he took part of Bucky's arm in Goyang and he just wanted to see if it grew back. And if Bucky was there to kill him. Bucky says he's not a killer anymore.

"You think you can wake up one day and decide who you wanna be?" Well, sure. "It doesn't work like that." Oh, but it must, or else what's the point? Isaiah has a lot of reasons to be bitter, though. 

"Isaiah, the reason we're here, is because there's more of you and me out there. And we need to know how."

This does not please Isaiah, who doesn't want to talk and throws a can of sardines (or something, I don't know what that was) through the wall. Old but still super solidery.

"You know what they did to me for being a hero? They put my ass in jail for 30 years." Um, wow. "People running tests, taking my blood, coming into my cell. Even your people weren't done with me." Well, that's deeply uncool. He very much wants his unwelcome guests to GFO, and I can't say I blame him.  

Sam is super pissed once they get out onto the street. "Why didn't you tell me about Isaiah?" Bucky doesn't answer. "I asked you a question, Bucky." Yikes.

And no, Steve never knew, because Bucky never told him. "So you're telling me there was a black super soldier decades ago and nobody knew about it?" I guess so.

And we're interrupted by a bizarre random encounter with presumably racist cops. They stop them in the street, get weird about asking for ID, and then ask Bucky, "is this guy bothering you?" And Bucky's like what in the actual fuck, he looks like a high school chem teacher and I look like the muscle for a loan shark, "no he's not bothering me. Do you know who he is?" Oh to be the Winter Soldier again for just a moment, eh? Anyway, one of the dipshits recognizes Sam and they get all dipshitty apologetic. "oh, Mr. Wilson, we're so sorry."

Oh, lol, they're going to arrest Bucky. There's a warrant out for him, because he missed his therapy session. I told somebody to call his therapist! I want to know which of those dipshits ran Sam and Bucky for wants. Because that’s not automatic or some shit, somebody’s got to call it in. 

Sam's like 'well that took a weird turn.'

Sam and Dr Raynor meet at whatever facility they’re holding Bucky. "Thanks for getting him out." "That was not me," the doctor assures him. Nope, it was Captain Goober, who greets the doctor with a wave. "Christina! It's great to see you again." lol. And Sam's day gets worse.

"I heard you were working with Bucky and thought I'd step in. Bucky's not going to be working on a strict schedule any longer." 

She's like, uh what? Says who? And he points at himself. okay, again, lol. Though, it’s weird to me how he insists on calling Bucky ‘Bucky’, like they’re buddies. They’re not buddies. Bucky's going to punch him in the face. 

"He's too valuable an asset to have him tied up. So just do whatever you've got to do with him, then send him off to me." Will Bucky turn around and go right back into his holding cell?

Dr's not going to let him. "James, condition of your release, session now. You too, Sam." "That's okay. I'll be out here with…" "That wasn't a request." Poor Sam. He has had THE WORST DAY.

I love Bucky slouching against the sergeant's desk all surly, like a 16 year old who got busted for boosting his grandmother's car.

Dr Raynor settles them all in what I assume is an interrogation room. She tells Bucky she just wants to help him get over whatever is eating at him. I guess she figures Sam could help with that, too?

"We're going to do an exercise. It's something I use with couples when they are trying to figure out what kind of life they want to build together." lol. but of course. a million fic writers deliriously rush to their keyboards.  

"Are you familiar with the miracle question?" "Absolutely not." "Of course not." heh "Okay, it goes like this. Suppose that while you're sleeping, a miracle occurs. When you wake up, what is something that you would like to see that would make your life better?"

Bucky says his miracle would be Sam talking less. Sam says that's what he was going to say. Dr Raynor is writing fic of her own. "You guys are leaving me no choice. It's time for the soul-gazing exercise." This is the weirdest therapy session ever.

Bucky is very on board. Sam's like 'what have you done? staring? that's his thing!'

"Let's do it. Let's stare. This is a good exercise. Thanks, doc." Bucky, you little asshole. lol

How many takes to do this scene? I can tell they're trying not to laugh. "Take 57. It's 1:30 am, guys. Please, can we get it this time?"

"Wait, what are you doing? Are you having a staring contest?" What about these two men's attitudes walking into the room suggested they were going to be at all mature about this, Doc?

"James, why does Sam aggravate you? And don't say something childish." She knows you too well, Buck.

Oh, Bucky. He wants to know why Sam gave up the shield, because Steve believed in him, gave him the shield for a reason. But, maybe Steve was wrong about Sam and if he was wrong about Sam, then he was wrong about Bucky.

Sam, has his reasons. He says maybe Bucky and Steve can't understand, but he wants to know if Bucky can accept that he did what he thought was right. Poor Sam.

And Sam's had enough. He says they've got bigger shit going on and he'll put whatever this issue is aside for now, and they'll go take care of that, and then he and Bucky can never see each other again. "Thanks doc, for making it weird. I feel much better."

She's like, well shit.

Bucky leaves as well, but she stops him. "I know that look. What's wrong?" "What was rule two again?" "Don't hurt anyone." "Goodbye, doc."

I think maybe she miscalculated a tiny bit.

"I feel better," Sam grumbles. "I feel awful," Bucky sighs.

And down the street Captain Goober and Hoskins starts chirping a police siren at them and they wave them over. "Gentlemen!" I really want Bucky to punch him just once.

Goober wants them to join forces. They're tracking Karli through various displaced communities in Europe.  She's the flag stompers leader, I guess? She's like … 16. DOUBT.

Anyway, she's do-goodering by stealing medicine and taking it to the displaced camps. I'm confused. So, post-blip, people who'd not blipped are now suddenly being displaced? I thought the displaced where the blipped trying to reintegrate. But, she was mad at the GRC for only caring about the blipped not the unblipped (which, again is the GRC's raison d'être, so yes?). I feel like I'm missing something.

Bucky snarks at Goober a bit. He's not a fan at all. "Things are really intense for you, aren't they, Walker?" 

Sam's like okay, let's all simmer down. "It is imperative that we find them and stop them." But, also, though, he and Bucky are free agents, so they're more flexible than mister "i'm the government" over there.

Captain Goober doesn't care for that. "Word of advice, then. Stay the hell out of my way." Don't push your luck, goober.

Bratislava, Slovakia

Flag Stompers loading a small plane. Uh oh, they've been found out! Karli asks how much time they have. "None. It's the Power Broker's men." The Power Broker. See, that's the kind of jackassery you get in a Blip scenario. That's what I'm talking about. Did you steal super soldier serum from this guy, Karli? Hmmm? One noble Flag Stomper offers to stay behind and hold them off while they make their escape, for One World! One People! Dream big, kid.

He knocks down a power pole to block the road but then he runs at the badder guys? And gets himself shot a zillionty times. I … he'd already blocked the road? Why not just … you know what? Never mind.

Back to Bucky and Sam and Bucky with an idea that might just be worse than the self-sacrificing Flag Stomper's run-at-the-badder-guys-for-great-justice idea. He suggests that perhaps somebody who knows all of Hydra's secrets can give them the answers they need. 

"So you're just going to go sit in a room with this guy?" "Ye-… yes," Bucky says, absolutely oozing with confidence.

Off to see Zemo! I'm sure that will go terribly! Can't wait!

And Credits!

Not gonna lie. I'm not sure how I feel about this episode. It felt a little disjointed.

I don't get the Flag Munchers, but I'm thinking they're just a red herring. Because they're basically utopian idealist twelve-year olds with nice but vague goals and vague iffy means to achieve those goals. I don't feel they're a whole lot more than some misguided kids who grew up in a blipped world and change is difficult and scary (and I’m sure it’s probably managed poorly. I can’t think of anything less efficient than a global council for anything. you could have a global council for dirt and it would be a bureaucratic nightmare). And they probably stole super soldier serum from somebody way scarier. Dummies. I think they're going to need to be rescued at some point. Probably soonish.

As for that other guy. There's moments where I like John Walker a little bit, and moments where I find him really aggravating. I get they want to make him the super-duper bestest perfectest hero, or that’s why he was chosen by the DoD or whatever, but part of Steve's charm was he wasn't perfect. He wasn't Captain America because he won a million awards, he was Cap because he had a good heart. That's the point. THAT'S WHY YOU SHOULD BE CAP, SAM!

Also, I don't like hard feelings between Sam and Bucky. Though, nothing about their history would suggest an easy friendship (one time Sam was driving in his car and Bucky ripped the damn steering wheel out), so that's not a complaint, it just makes me sad. They really only have a connection because of Steve and he's gone. Be friends, guys!

And finally, when will Sharon Carter return from being an enemy of the state?

#tfatws #tfatws spoilers #the falcon and the winter soldier #the falcon and the winter soldier spoilers #tfatws liveblog

[the-fandom-took-over-my-life]

The one where he blipped and you didn’t

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Summary: Peter blipped. You didn’t. Now you’re both the same age and he’s confused by the kid he used to know and the girl you are now. 

Word Count: 1710ish

Warnings: Language, INFINITY WAR AND ENDGAME SPOILERS!

A/N: I haven’t posted any fics, but I want to start. Let me know if you want to see more, I’m planning a series if some of y’all read. Let me know what you think!

*Flashbacks in Italics*

E/C = eye color

INTRO

*NOT MY GIF*

      Sometimes you were jealous of the people who blipped. They got the easy way out. It was the rest of you that had to live with the pain for five years. Five long years. **       "Y/N?"       You sat up from under the covers to see Cap's silhouette in the open door; you hadn't even heard him come in.       "Any news?" you whispered hoarsely. The sound of your own voice surprised you. You hadn't spoken much over the past few days.       Cap sighed. "No, not yet. I just wanted to come check on you. When was the last time you've eaten?"       You couldn't remember.       Taking your silence as an answer, he slowed walked to the side of your bed and sat beside you. Up close you noticed how much older he looked. His eyes weren't the same. They just looked sad, worn-down.       "We're going to find them Y/N. We will."       You couldn't tell if even he believed his own words.       Not knowing what to say, you just reached for his hand and held it. He looked at you and offered you a smile that looked an awful lot like a grimace, but it was enough to make you feel slightly better. It was this moment and many more like it that helped you through the next five years.  **

      "Hey, Y/N, you still in there?"       You jolted from your thoughts to see your best friend's face hovering in front of your own.       "Yeah, sorry. What did you say?" you asked.       "I asked whether you wanted to watch Back to the Future or Harry Potter." Peter said, holding up the two DVD cases. You smiled lightly. Leave it to Peter to have the biggest collection of used DVDs in his possession.       "Back to the Future." you said, pulling your blanket around your shoulders and snuggling into the couch as he pushed the disk into the player. You could clearly remember the last time you'd watched this movie, though it felt like a lifetime ago. In fact, this was the movie you were watching when you and Peter first met.

**       Clearly you weren't one to pay close attention to your surroundings, well certainly not at that age, and the new voice from behind made you jump.       "Is that Back to the Future? I love that movie!"       You paused the movie and turned around to see a boy standing in the entrance of the living room. You recognized the boy as your dad's young recruit and you studied him, making him instantly uncomfortable under your gaze. The battle at the airport had taken place just days before and your dad came home with a broken Rhodey and a lot of broken promises about your family that was now ripped to shreds.  He looked a several years older than you, probably in high school, and you found you found yourself slightly shocked that this was the Spider-thing from YouTube.       Tired of your thoughts, you turned your back on the boy and played the movie. You heard him walk into the room and he sat on the opposite side of the couch. You could feel his timid gaze on you, and you tried to ignore him, but quickly grew annoyed of his stare.       "Do you need something?" you said bluntly; you dad had always said you were brusque, especially for a 11 year old.       The boy, again, seemed uncomfortable. "I just thought I'd introduce myself. I'm Peter. Peter Parker."       "You're the Spider-thing my dad recruited, right?" you asked. Now that he was closer, you could see the details of his face. 'He's got nice eyes.' You thought to yourself.       "It's Spider-Man" he muttered, making you crack a small smile.       "You don't look like a man to me." you said, making him roll his eyes and grin. You both turned back to the movie and watched in a weirdly comfortable silence. **

      That night was the unlikely beginning of a friendship that helped you through some hard years in your life. Peter was like an older brother to you; he would come over and watch classic movies with you, he'd help you with your homework, not that you needed much help, and you found yourself grown attached to him. At the time, although you never would have admitted to it, you had a growing crush on the young superhero, but he was almost five years older than you so you kept your feelings to yourself. Never would you have fathomed the events of the years to come that would ultimately change everything. **       You watched as the credits on the screen began to roll and stretched you legs along the length of the couch and yawned.       "It's late. Do you wanna stay the night here? May won't mind." Peter said copying your yawn.       "Nah, we both know that Rhodey will murder me if he found out that I spent the night at a boy's place." you said as you put your shoes on.       "Oh c'mon. He knows me. You're practically my little sister Y/N." Peter whined as you stood up off the couch. "Just stay and we can get breakfast tomorrow before school."       You smiled and rolled your eyes. "Aha! There's the real reason you want me to stay. It's not like you enjoy my company or anything right?" you joked.       "Bacon and egg breakfast burritos are so good though" Peter said, following you into his bedroom.       "Yeah whatever douche bag." you said, playfully punching him in the arm.       "You sure you don't want me to swing you back?" he said as you opened his window and stepped onto the fire escape.       "Nah, I'm good Spider-thing. I'll see you tomorrow." you said and you tapped your wrists together twice, clinking the bracelets that you wore on each arm. You felt the nano-tech stream from the bangles and cover your body, forming your suit.

      You playfully saluted Peter and activated the thrusters that carried you away from Peter's building.       "It's Spider-Man." Peter grumbled, sliding his window shut, but he couldn't help the smile that was forming on his face. Through the window, he watched the light of your suit grow smaller and smaller in the sky and flopped on his bed.       Not even a minute had passed until he felt his phone buzz in his pocket.       Lil Stark: You miss me already, don't ya? ;)       Spider-Thing: You know, I don't       Lil Stark: Dude you can't be mean to me, I'm older than you.       Lil Stark: Shit Rhodey is coming I've gotta go       Lil Stark: Night Spidey       Peter turned off his phone and stared at the ceiling. It was still weird that you were now technically older than him. One day you were the little 13 year old who he would go visit at the compound, and then he came back to see you his age, grown up. He remembers seeing you, but not recognizing the little girl he once knew.

**       "Okay I've got this." Peter said, quickly becoming overwhelmed my the number of aliens attacking him. "I don't got this. Somebody help!" he screamed, clutching the gauntlet.       "Hey Queens, heads up." Cap said and threw miljoner in Peter's direction.            Relieved, Peter cast a web and hung on as it carried him away from his attackers. His relief was short lived as a blast from the sky cut his web and Peter felt himself falling, until he wasn't.       "I've got you Spider-thing. Good to see you again."       He looked up to see a teal and silver Iron Man suit carrying him through the air. You deactivated your helmet and, for a second, he couldn't breathe. It was you, but, not you. Your face had grown out of the chubby face he was used to and you had lost the prepubescent acne you once adorned. But your eyes were what shocked him the most. They looked older, harder. The mischievous glint that once shone through them was no longer there.       He could have stared at you for hours, but he was snapped back to reality when you dropped him with Valkyrie, flying back to help the others behind you.       Tearing his gaze from your figure, heading into battle, he focused himself on the war raging around him, yet, through everything, he couldn't shake the look in your eyes. The look that proved, beyond a doubt, that the Y/N he knew was gone. **       Another buzz from his phone brought Peter back to his bedroom.       Ned: Are you going to Flash's party tomorrow?       Peter: I don't know. Why do we even go to his parties?       Ned: To be social like regular human beings       Ned: Is Y/N going?       Peter wasn't sure, you hadn't really talked about it. You had just started to go to school again after what happened to Tony. He figured, though, you would probably go just to get out if the compound. You hardly spent time there anymore.       Peter: I don't know. Probably.       Ned: Maybe you can finally tell her that you're in love with her. ;)       Peter scoffed at his phone.       Peter: Dude shut up. I don't like her that way, she's like my little sister.       Ned: Yeah, that was before the blip and she became a badass.       Ned: Anyway, we can talk about it tomorrow.       Peter: Yeah whatever, see u tmr

      He sat there in the silence of his room and, against his better judgement, thought about what Ned said.       Sure, you used to be younger than him and you used to look to him as an older brother, but that was, for you at least, five years ago. You grew up fast in the time that he was gone and now you could probably kick his ass. And, sure, you were pretty. Beautiful even. You were still much shorter than him, but you had grown into your body. He felt his face heat up thinking about your curves and toned body and your...       'This is so stupid' Peter thought, and pulled the covers over his body. He tried to forget you as he drifted off to sleep, but, for some reason, he fell asleep thinking of your eyes. Your big E/C eyes that, after some time and some rebuilt trust, showed him the softness that still remained within you. The softness he remembered. A softness that you reserved just for him.  

#peter parker #peter x stark!reader #peter x reader #spiderman #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x reader #tom holland #peter parker fanfiction #spiderman x reader

[j-diamond]

I’ll Wait For You (Roy x Reader)

“Roy, you really shouldn’t.” You say as you sit down at the lunch table. He laughs and shakes his head.

“Y/n.” He sits down next you, “you just… you don’t understand.” You raise an eyebrow at him,

“I un-” you start, but can’t finish because you begin coughing a bit violently. Roy looks at you then grabs his water bottle and gives it to you. You immediately begin drinking it, allowing you to stop coughing. After a pause you both begin laughing, “see that?” You nudge him, “if you weren’t here I could’ve died.” He shakes his head laughing,

“You’re not gonna die from coughing.” He says, as he begins eating,

“You don’t know that.” You say and he gives you a deadpan look, “I’m just saying. If a=b and b=c then a=c.” He looks at you almost spitting out his food. He swallows and looks at you,

“What does math have to do with anything?” He asks and you shrug your shoulders,

“I don’t know, I just said whatever came to mind first.”

“And that was math?” He asks and you playfully shove him.

“Shush.” You say and continue eating.

“Shut up!” You say as you push him. He smirks,

“Is there any other reason you invited me over your house to ‘study’?” He asks

“Yeah!” You say as you point to your chemistry book, “to actually study.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, we’re lab partners. We have to present. So yes, I invited you over to STUDY.” You say rolling your eyes. He smirks and scoots closer to you,

“Are you sure it’s not because you like me?” He says as he leans in closer,

“Roy-”

“Get out.” A familiar voice says, cutting you completely off. You both look towards the dining room entrance to see your dad. There he stood, tall, proud, and mad as hell. You look at him, then back at Roy wide-eyed. The position you guys were just in did look a little iffy.

“Dad…” You say as you get up and go to him to try to persuade him to let Roy stay. He stops you, eyeing Roy the entire time,

“It’s okay.” Roy says, as he begins to pack his backpack, “I’ll leave.” He goes to hug you, but the look from your dad suggests otherwise. So he stops and hands you the assignment, “Besides, I’m sure we’d get it done faster if we both did our own individual parts well…” he looks at you then your dad then back at you, “Individually. Excuse me.” He squeezes past your dad and out the door. You sigh,

“Who was that?” He asks, and you sit down, knowing exactly how this was gonna play out,

“Roy.”

“And what exactly was he doing here?”

“Studying for the test and our presentation.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes.”

“Well that didn’t look like studying to me.”

“That’s because you walked in at the wrong time.”

“And i’m glad I did. Cause who knows where that would’ve gone.”

“It wouldn’t have gone anywhere Dad. Roy’s not like that.”

“Do you know how many cases I have to go through for teen pregnancies a month?” He asks, and you groan,

“Roy’s not like that Dad!” You say as you stand up, “He only came over so that we could work on the presentation together.”

“You don’t know that.” He says, “I was in high school once, I know what goes on in a hormonal teenage boy’s mind.”

“Maybe you do. Maybe you don’t. Roy’s not like you.” You say grab your stuff, “Excuse me, I have an assignment to do by myself, considering the only person who could help has left.” You leave to go to your room.

“Why weren’t you at school yesterday?” You say and he shows you his bag,

“Don’t open it.” you say as you cover your eyes, “I already think I know what’s in there, and I can’t even be remotely involved.”

“Your lost.” he says as he closes his locker.

“You already know who, what, and how my dad is.” You say punching him in the arm and he rubs it.

“Geez, that’s hurts.” He says as he shakes his arm,

“Again. My dad is Harvey Dent. THE HARVEY DENT.” you say as you close your locker. You look him in the eye, “Never expect anything less.”

“Okay Dent jr.” he says, bumping into you as you both begin laughing.

“You need to stop skipping school.” You whisper, slightly irritated. He fixes his backpack under the table, and sighs,

“I had a lot of late night runs.” He whispers back and you shake your head,

“This is bad for your school career. I mean-”

“Y/n, Roy.” The teacher calls, interrupting you, “Would you mind sharing with the class what you were discussing?” You both turn to see eyes from the entire classroom on you. Roy looks at you, that same pleading look in his eye from when he’d skip for the first time and you had to help him out of the pickle.

“Oh sorry Mr. Roup.” You say as you give Roy the ‘I got this look’. “We were just arguing about the newest name for some of the new man made metals on the periodic table. And what class they should be assigned to. Considering that though, they align with alkaline metals, I believe they sort of take on this ionic form similar to the earth metals. Yet for some reason, neither of us could differ which period they would form for their reactivity.” Mr. Roup looks at you both, eyeing you down, and nods,

“Very well then.” He goes to write on the board but turns around, “Just try not to interrupt class next time.” You nod meekly and wait for class to get started with whatever they had been discussing previously.

“You’re lucky this time.” You say as you start putting up your textbook, “Next time don’t expect as much.” Roy nods slowly and put his head on the desk. He looks up at you with puppy dog eyes,

“I love you.” He says in a child like voice. He smiles, and you can’t help but laugh a little, but soon your little laughter turns into another full blown coughing fit. Every eye of the class in on you two yet again, as Roy searches his bag for his usual water bottle he kept just for you. Yet, today it had been missing, and he began to grow worried,

“Does anybody have water?” He shouts, and everyone begins searching. Yet there efforts were growing in vain as you began to start choking. Somebody tosses Roy an unopened plastic water bottle and he opens it and tries to get it to you. But by the time he had unscrewed the cap, your air supply had left you, and you lost consciousness and fell onto the floor.

You awoke in the school’s infirmary, your Dad at your side.

“Hey.” You say weakly. He looks at you, a sigh of relief escaping his lips, “how long was I asleep?” You look at him then look around the room, “Where’s Roy?” Your Dad sighs and shakes his head,

“He isn’t here.” He says, a disdainful look in his eye, “He never showed his face in here.” He sits upright, “Why do you care? It’s obvious he doesn’t care for you.” He walks over to the nurse and they talk about something for a while, both of them occasionally throwing glances your way. You look out the door’s window, watching the traffic of students, rushing past. You sigh, envying them. How you wished this wasn’t your life. You go to look away, but a certain dirty blond, freckled face kid catches your eye.

‘Roy.’ You mouth his name not wanting to grab your father’s attention. And as fate would have it he turned in your direction. He pretends to laugh at you and you roll your eyes, glad to know he was okay. He then took on a serious stance,

‘You okay?’ he mouthed and you nodded,

‘Why wouldn’t I be?’ You ask, and he facepalms.

‘Gotta go.’ he mouth as he forms a heart with his hands, and does this weird look that you think was supposed to resemble Flynn Rider’s smoulder. You laugh and wave as he walks off. You turn your attention back to your Dad and the nurse, as they soon finish their conversation. He looks back down at you, and his once glare, softens, a sadness seeming to hide behind his eyes,

“How about we go out.”

“What?” You ask unsure of what he meant,

“Let’s go somewhere.” he says smiling that giddly smile you know and love, “Anywhere you want. Anywhere at all.”

“Let’s go to Disneyland.” You say with that same giddy smile. He looks away then back at you,

“Ok. Anywhere you want besides Disneyland and Disneyworld.” He says again and both of you laugh.

“You looked at the clock, then to your paper. You were so bored, but all you had to do was get through this one day and you'd be fine. You wrote down the notes he told the class to take but you continue to sneak glances at your phone. Yet there was still no text from Roy. You sigh as the teacher pulls down the projector screen. You raise your hand,

“Yes Ms. Dent?” He asks, and all eyes look your way. All of them watched your every movement, as if you were gonna collapse any moment,

“Ummm,” You say almost forgetting why you’d raised your hand in the first place, “Oh, my partner's not here.” His eyes shift left,

“So it would seem.” He says thinking, “Well I guess you might just have to present by yourself…” he looks back to you, “Do you think you can handle that?” You sigh inwardly,

“Yeah. Um sure.” You say as you pull out your notes make your way towards the projector. You hear someone snicker as you walk by, and suddenly you trip.

“Someone up there must love you, because they’re giving you a second chance.” He says as he shows him the quarter, which showed heads, “Now go back to school, and stop getting yourself in trouble.” Roy nods and runs off quickly. After making it a considerable distance away, he sighs. He doesn’t know what to do. He pulls out his phone and dials your number,

“Y/n will know what to do. She always knows what to do.” He says as his phone rings, “She’ll probably just tell me to go back to school like her Dad did.” He hangs up and starts walking home solemnly.

“Here.” Roy answers, and the teacher, along with most students, look up shocked.

“My my my…” She says as she looke Roy up nd down, “Look who finally decided to show up.” Everyone snickers, “It’s a little late though, we’re nearing the end of the trimester, so you’ve pretty much already failed.” She looks back at the computer and continue calling role. She finishes, and starts the lesson. Roy, for what seems like the first time in forever, actually pays attention and begins taking notes. The classes go by fast, and soon the lunch bell rings. He shoots up in excitement and immediately goes to his locker and waits. And he continues to wait, yet you never show. He of course assumed it was payback for him being gone for so long. So he goes to sit at you guy’s table. The bell rings and he goes back to class. The days continue like that all week, and he grows concerned. He hadn’t seen you all week, something had to be wrong. After school lets out he runs the entire way to your house. The door whips open after his continuous banging.

“What do you want boy?” Harvey asks, upon seeing who it was who had given him a headache.

“Where is she?” He asks, almost out of breath, “Where’s Y/n? I haven’t seen her all week. Is she home? I’d she transfer schools or something? Is she-”

“She’s alright.” He says interrupting. His posture softens at Roy, seeing how worried he’d been over her, “She’s in the hospital. Room 293.” Roy looks at him, and Harvey nods, “go.”

“Thank-you Mr.Dent.” He says as he runs off.

“Y/n!” Roy cries. He looks at your still figure. He gathers his breath and slowly goes to your side, “I’m sorry.” He kneels down next you, “I shouldn’t have left you.” He grabs your hand, “I won’t this time. I promise. I’ll always be here for you.” He looks up at you, “I’ll wait for you as long as needed, because I love you.” Tears slowly begin falling from his face as he grips your hand tighter, “So I’ll be here when you wake up, I promise.” He stands back up, “I love you, so I’ll wait for you.” The machine beeps showing a slight increase in brain activity. He smiles softly, as he wipes his tear stained face. He kisses your forehead. He sneaks one last glance at you before he leaves the room. “I’ll wait for you y/n.” He says softly to himself as he begins to leave the coma ward.

#roy #roy xreader #roy gotham #gotham request #gotham oneshot #gotham one shot #gotham #gotham fanfiction #gotham x reader #gotham imagine

[jugandbettsdetectiveagency]

Tacos and Tequila - Ch.2

Thank you all so much for the wonderful response to chapter 1, I’m still shook. Hope you enjoy!

Ch.1 / Ch.3 / Read on AO3

Hour 1

Betty glances around her new surroundings as Jughead shuts the door behind her. Along with his scholarship, Archie has been offered lodging in some of the slightly more upscale apartments Boston had to offer its students, as part of the terms of his enrolment. She’s currently standing in a small lounge/kitchenette area, decked out with only the essentials: there’s a cream coloured carpet (that looks like it’s seen better days) that gives way into white tiles on the floor; a green sofa and armchair are pushed in the corner, surrounding a varnished coffee table and TV stand, two lamps adorning either end of the room. The kitchen has very little in the way of appliances, all white cupboards and grey counter tops, and there are dirty dishes piled up that are beginning to edge closer to the wrong side of disgusting. She wrinkles her nose discreetly, not sure why she’d expected anything less from two college boys. There are two doors on the wall opposite her, which she’s assuming lead to Archie and Jughead’s rooms, and one on the wall to her left which she can see, from how it’s been left ajar, is the bathroom.

Jughead stands a few feet away, observing her as she observes the room.

“What did you get your scholarship for?” Betty blurts out. She instantly berates herself for saying the first thing that had popped into her head. He didn’t have to be on a scholarship, she thinks, averting her eyes and willing herself not to smack her palm to her forehead, he could just be loaded. To her relief, Jughead replies quickly.

“Writing. I’m studying Journalism with a minor in Creative Writing,” he tells her with a depreciating smile she can tell he must always wear when talking about himself and his accomplishments.

“Me too!” she exclaims, eyes brightening a shade before she coughs delicately, reigning in her excitement. “I mean, without the minor. I want to be a journalist one day though – I was editor of The Blue and Gold in high school. That was our paper,” she adds, realising he wouldn’t know what she was babbling about. Jughead smiles, dimples appearing adorably on his cheeks and Betty can’t help but return it.

A khaki jacket catches her eye, strewn over the arm of the sofa.

“How do you like living with Archie?” she asks, her mind drifting back to the noticeable absence of their shared acquaintance. Jughead lifts a hand to rub at the back of his neck and Betty watched the way it makes his bicep curl.

“Yeah, he’s a good guy,” Jughead replies vaguely, and the betraying smile spreads across Betty’s lips before she can stop it. “I think if we’d met as kids we could have been close friends, but we’ve kind of gone too far in different directions to ever be ‘brothers’,” Jughead concludes, throwing quotes around the word with his fingers. Betty nods. She can understand the sentiment.

Betty’s eyes follow a stray drip of water that slides between Jughead’s pecs and he marks the appraisal, looking down at himself as if he’s only just remembering he is less than decently clothed, for the first time since they met.

“I’m just gonna…” he trails off, pointing with a thumb to the right hand door on the wall behind him. “Make yourself comfortable,” he throws over his shoulder as he slips into his room.

Betty sinks into the worn couch cushions with a huff, picking absentmindedly at a loose thread she finds there. How typical, she thinks to herself. There’s a buzzing in her back pocket that causes her hunched shoulders to straighten, the ID on her screen reading Archie alongside a picture of his bright, beaming face.

“Arch?”

“Hey, Betty! What’s up?” The cheery note in his voice throws her off instantly. There was no flood of apologies, no hurried explanations as he tells her he’s just caught up but he’s on his way, he’ll be with her for their weekend together in no time.

“What’s up?” Betty means the repetition of his question to sound acidic but it comes out a degree weaker than she’d intended. “Archie, I’ve just driven almost four hours in a snow storm to come and see you, only for Jughead to tell me you aren’t here.” Her heavy breathing fills the dead air across the line.

“Shit, that was this weekend?” Betty bites her lower lip as it begins to quiver. “I am so sorry, Betty. I completely spaced – and Veronica invited me to Hawaii super last minute because she’s crazy rich and her dad’s got this jet…” Archie’s voice suddenly sounds like it’s coming through glass. She’d been passed over for a better offer. Again.

“…and now the weather reports are saying that it’s gonna get really bad and no flights are landing.” His voice begins to drift back in, his explanations coming in fast. “We aren’t going to be able to get back until it starts to clear. Betty… I’m so–” Betty shoots up from the couch.

“Don’t say you’re sorry. Please, spare me your pity, Archie.” Her voice is quiet, but Archie has never heard her use this tone with him before. Not when she threatened to stop being his friend after he’d gone behind her back to tell her mom about her date with Trevor, not when he promised to take her to prom only to find out Val wanted to go with him instead, and not even when he’d kissed her unexpectedly before uttering the words ‘was that okay? I want to know if I’m a good kisser before my date with Cheryl this weekend’. Back then she’d been her usual peaches and cream self. Now? She sounds resigned.

“Look, don’t be upset. We can reschedule! And you can stay at mine for as long as you need – I’m sure Jug won’t mind,” he hurries to placate. He’d been with Betty when she had reached the peak of stress before, Alice’s home environment not exactly being voted most nurturing. He knew how anxious she could get. “Betty?”

A bubble of laughter had burst through her pursed lips before she could stop it, and now that it was out the dam had burst. She throws her head back, peals of laughter ringing out through the otherwise silent apartment. She is aware of how crazy she must sound right now, but she just can’t stop it, her sides beginning to ache.

“Err, Betty?” Archie asks again awkwardly. The jubilant blonde pulls in a breath, spontaneous chuckles still escaping every so often as she wipes her fingers beneath her eyes.

“I’ll be sure to make myself at home,” she replies, pulling the phone from her ear and ending the call before he has time to muster a response. She throws the device on the coffee table. The longer she stares at it, darkness signalling no attempt at a redial, the worse she feels. An uncomfortable knot is twisting in her stomach, the tears of laugher turning bitter as everything sinks in, stinging her skin.

God, she’s tired. Her sadness morphs into anger as a highlights reel plays behind her eyes of all the times she’s shed tears over Archie Andrews. She wasn’t just tired, she was tired and pathetic.

“Betty?” The uncertain voice causes her to whip round, coming face to face with a newly clothed Jughead. He has on a pair of red flannel pajama pants, a dark grey cotton shirt, and a uniquely shaped beanie has been shoved over his drying hair which vaguely resembles a crown. He looks cosy. He sees the slight smudge of mascara beneath her eyes.

“Is that Archie’s?” Betty asks suddenly, pointing to the bottle of tequila amongst plates and bowls on the counter. She’s heading towards it before he can answer.

“Yeah, it is but Betty I don’t think you should…” Jughead winces as she unscrews the cap, swigging a gulp. She coughs and splutters as she takes the bottle from her lips, eyes watering for an entirely different reason now.

“Oh, my god. That’s so gross!” she rasps, Jughead regarding her with the same restrained amusement he’s had flittering around his features since she first arrived.

“Tried to warn you,” he quips and she throws him a dry look that doesn’t quite pack the punch she was hoping for. Betty thumps her chest lightly to try and ease the burn. “You don’t really seem the type to knock back the hard liquor,” Jughead notes a little more quietly, raising his eyebrows as he averts his eyes from her face. Betty’s own are alight with flames.

“And what type do I seem like, exactly?” she demands, folding her arms across her chest. Jughead trails his gaze over the girl in front of him, taking in her perfectly pressed jeans, cotton candy sweater and honey gold hair that’s up in a tight ponytail. He falls back into his snarky demeanour before he answers, and Betty practically witnesses the construction of a wall around his person.

“Very perfect girl-next-door.” Jughead mirrors her posture, folding his arms loosely, shoulder leaning against the refrigerator door. Heat rises in Betty’s cheeks, muscle twitching in her jaw as she clenches her teeth. Jughead braces for her onslaught, wanting her to get mad, until suddenly all the tension vanishes from her body, lower lip trembling once again as she turns her eyes to the ground.

“Who’s Veronica?” she asks, voice small. There’s a beat before Jughead answers, still catching up with her sudden mood swing, before he’s fishing his phone out of the deep pocket in his pants.

“Here,” he says, handing her the device after pulling up a picture.

Betty stares down at the girl on the screen, Veronica’s head tilted in laughter as she clings to another girl in the photo. The vague lights of a club are visible in the background. Her olive skin is flawlessly glowing, complimented by the perfect beaming smile across her parted lips. Her midnight hair is sleek in a way Betty thought was only possible in magazines, and her dark eyes hold a glint within them that just reeks of enticing mystery. She looks wild, and beautiful, and fun.

“Are she and Archie…?” she begins, knowing that Jughead will pick up her line of questioning. The boy shrugs as he takes back the phone.

“I’ve seen her around here more than once,” he offers. Betty nods, not sure if she wants to run from the apartment and never look back, or collapse into Jughead’s arms and sob. Betty catches the muted view of snow falling rapidly beneath street lamps through Jughead’s open door, pinning her inside, and he looks like he’d abhor the latter option so she just stands, counting her breaths until someone decides to talk.

Jughead moves silently, picking up two shot glasses from the clean side of the sink and pouring the abandoned liquor into them, just short of the top. It wasn’t a habit he frequently indulged in, but right now the tension pressing down on his chest and the utterly defeated look on Betty’s face makes him think the situation demands a little indulgence. He hands it to her, watching the slight tremor in her fingers as she accepts his offer.

“Cheers.” He clinks his glass to hers before they throw the clear liquid back in unison, eyes scrunching against the burn. It’s not as bad as the first time, Betty thinks, as a pleasant warmth fills her stomach and the feeling of being on edge begins to fade slowly. “Wanna watch a movie or something?” Jughead suggests, tipping his head towards the couch. She nods her consent, taking the remote from his outstretched hand as he tells her she can pick. “But, if you pick badly I’ll probably never learn to trust you,” he jokes. It earns him a wry smile.

She scrolls for a while, allowing herself a bitter chuckle as she finally makes her decision.

Jughead’s eyes widen minutely as Betty presses play, shaking his head in amusement as the movie begins with its opening credits. Gentlemen Prefer Blondes.

If only, Betty thinks. If only.

#bughead #bughead fanfiction #bughead au #betty cooper #jughead jones #betty x jughead #riverdale #riverdale fanfiction #bughead fan fiction #jetty #writing

[happycakestories]

old mx fic dump pt. 3

a very self-serving highly gratuitous twins au -- unrealistic but very fun in the moment - cowritten with @deardystopia

God, why couldn’t he have just suffocated? He needs to work on that - for next time hopefully. (If there even is a next time, the pessimist within him groans loudly).  

First Chapter : Hotter than hell

Literature class never felt so slow to Jackson as it does today, he decides, grumbling and writing notes in his chicken scratch handwriting of what the professor is saying. None of it is helping to make the minutes pass faster. Nor is sending playful and stupid messages to his best friend, typing fast on the phone screen hidden behind a tall student sitting disinterested in the row in front of him. Okay no, it helps just a bit, but reading Tolstoy also feels like being punched in the gut over and over.

Usually they would be together whispering and chattering like two old grandmas for the entire lecture, but Jooheon didn’t arrive today on time. When he showed up as the class was starting, he literally looked so lost and confused like he had just gotten out of bed, but it wasn’t surprising as this was the first class of the day. He was sporting messy dark chocolate curls, a bordeaux adidas hoodie and a pair of black sweat pants that probably were the first things he fished off of his room’s messy floor – he was the messiest person, really – to get dressed fast, and by the time he had gotten there, almost no seats were left. Jackson couldn’t have kept the reserved spot any longer as more sleepy students were already dragging themselves into the various rows of seats in class, occupying everything too fast.

Also, Jackson would have been late as well if it wasn’t for his noisy roommates returning to the dorm at 6 am in the morning - God knows what they were on about - and let’s not even talk about the constant pressure he felt being the New Exchange StudentTM. He moved to study in Korea one and a half months before, to start sophomore year in Seoul thanks to an international exchange program hosted by the college. He must also admit that if it hadn’t been for Jooheon’s bright smile, incredible charisma and that charming pair of deep-set dimples that made him the most adorable human to ever exist, he would have felt completely alone. Some people weren’t so welcoming at the time they found out he was a Chinese exchange student, even if prejudices were based on old history for some communities, it was hard to let things go, but with Jooheon all that was needed to get to know each other was a simple smile during the first day of the class they were now always attending together.

Uh, usually you don’t think something like that about your best friend… But nobody could resist Jooheon’s smile in any way and Jackson was definitely pining over him since they met, always dreaming of being able to touch and caress those dark chocolate curls of his and kiss those pink plush lips. They probably would have tasted just as sweet.

Anyway, today’s messages’ topic was: What happens when you get ‘scared half to death’ twice?

Last night Jooheon’s brother insisted on entering one of those terrible and scary houses… Because, why not? He said everything would be fine and that those ‘monsters’ were just people working and doing their job, so there was nothing to be worried about, right?

Jooheon wasn’t entirely convinced as he was telling Jackson, all his friends knew that he gets scared easily and maybe it’s one of the reasons they enjoy frightening him at all times – his reactions are the best really -, but there was his brother too with him, so he decided to go inside and face all his fears.

‘Face’ is a strong word, “Suddenly this guy with a big bloodied chainsaw and a freaking mask started to scream and chased US! BUT I FELL (☼Д☼)” Jackson is reading the story unfolding on the messages and lets out a small giggle as he keeps going on “I wanted to run but my legs went numb and my BROTHER DISAPPEARED (ノಠ益ಠ)ノ”

“He abandoned you there??”

“YES!?”

“Why? What happened then? What did you do?? （・□・；）”

“I cried,” Jackson must hide the big smile that is emerging reply by reply by sliding down more on the chair, he doesn’t want to get scolded by the professor as he tries to imagine Jooheon crying on the ground of this warehouse with a masked man threatening him “And the chainsaw guy took off his mask, put his hand on my shoulder, kneeled to talk to me, and APOLOGIZED ‧º·(˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ )‧º·˚”

“WHAT щ(゜ロ゜щ)”

Okay, Jackson now has to bite his bottom lip hard to not laugh out loud in class. How much would he have payed to see that scene in person? Probably his entire tuition.

“I KNOW” Jooheon answers in caps “And he led me to the exit by my hand!!! That shit was too scary tbh. Remind me to NEVER go again inside of one of those houses lol”

“I guess he actually felt bad about scaring you like that ahah. But at least you didn’t have to endure the entire house till the end ┐(´∀｀)┌”

“Maybe? But you know who wasnt sorry about leaving me to die in there? MY BROTHER (ノಠ ∩ಠ)ノ彡( o°o)” there were more dots under Jooheon’s name on the chat, signaling he was typing something more “HE WAS WAITING FOR ME OUTSIDE AND WHEN HE SAW MY FACE HE LAUGHED HIS ASS OFF!! HE CRIED ABOUT MY PAIN. He is SO MEAN really. I don’t know why we’re still brothers??”

“You can’t change your relatives, I know something about it… But if it was me I would have bought you sweet pastries and a hot coffee to be graced by your forgiveness ahah”

“You’d be a better brother for sure ♥”

Did he just…get bro-zoned? You got yourself into this situation Jackson. You did this to yourself.

Jackson mentally slaps himself as he tries to change the topic to something entirely different in order to stop where all of this is going to lead before it happens. Besides, as he thinks about it, he actually hasn’t met Jooheon’s brother at all, his best friend told him only that the first year was really tough and messy. His brother was never home or attending classes, and lots of fights happened between them when he wouldn’t even say where he was spending most of his nights. Jooheon kept worrying over him, stressing over him, almost reaching a point where he almost failed two classes, but since the start of the sophomore year, everything was getting better slowly, his brother started to attend classes more and seemed “more tamed” as Jooheon described it.

“Do you have another class after this? (´・ω・｀)”

“Yeah, man. Gotta attend linguistics, sad stuff (;´□｀)”

“Oh!” You’re probably going to hell for this small lie as you’re typing it and for all the times you thought about your best friend in not the most innocent ways, Jackson thinks, biting his lying tongue, “Can I walk you over there? I’m going in the same direction.  (◡‿◡)/”

“I’ll wait for you outside then! ♥”

It went smooth. But why does he keep sending those hearts? Is he using them with his other friends as well? Is it a Korean thing? Probably - Jooheon most likely replies like that to everyone, but Jackson can’t and won’t stop his hopes from soaring higher than they should as he slips his phone into sleep mode and slides it back inside his jean’s back pocket.

Finally, the longest literature class in history ends, and Jackson’s heart starts to pound faster as he prepares to approach Jooheon waiting out in the packed corridors. Most of the time it’s not like this, but today it’s different for them, Jackson will ask him out. Or try, at least.

He gathers all of his books, his favorite blue squid-shaped pencil case and his literature notebook, throwing them inside his blue backpack before high-tailing it out of there.

“Jooheon-ah!”

When Jackson calls to the red hooded lump leaning against the corridor’s wall, Jooheon raises his chin up and looks directly at him, sweet eyes accompanied by that irresistible deep dimpled smile that drags everyone into a utopian paradise. Jackson’s heart painfully skips a beat for a long moment.

I’m going to die, he thinks as he moves forward to his best friend, attempting to reciprocate with a small smile and hoping to not seem too obvious about his crush for him.

“Hey! All good?” Jooheon chirps fondly, moving off from where he was leaning to walk side by side with his friend, fiery red backpack dangling wearily from one of his shoulders as the weight of culture made itself apparent.

“Yep,” the Chinese student starts, bending his head slightly toward the ground as he doesn’t feel so confident in his self-restraint when those angel-kissed dimples are there. “Though, what about you? You seem quite, uh tired this morning? … Don’t tell me it’s because of the House of Horrors you went to yesterday?”

“Well, that definitely helped! But when it was like 2 a.m. I was about to doze off, my mind was literally blank… And then the thought of Lit’s midterms results coming out today HIT me so hard that I couldn’t stop thinking about it.” Jooheon makes a startled face, giggling at an invisible thought, gesticulating to make it less abstract. “Like, it’s the first exam this October and I want to pass it so bad?? I don’t want to repeat last year’s grades seriously.”

“What?! You shouldn’t be this anxious! I’m sure you got a straight A with a full score.” Jackson pushes jokingly at the other’s shoulder, almost making him trip on his feet. “We studied together, I know what you’re capable of. Don’t worry too much! And if it’s not what you hoped for, we’ll get through it together.”

Was he being too extra with the compliments? But at the same time…why is that when he said I know what you’re capable of, it made him think about totally different things that were incredibly out of context?

He know his best friend is a great student, a slow learner but with enough time he could analyze and understand things way better than others. Also, Jackson got help from him many times with Korean language misunderstandings – and there were many of these times - but Jackson wouldn’t have minded knowing what Jooheon was capable of in other contexts. Contexts where Jackson imagined himself on top of Jooheon, bodies pressed together on unmade and crumpled sheets as he drinks himself drunk on each one of those wet and incredibly sweet kisses, as their fingers intertwine together. He could almost make out the stunning sensation of Jooheon’s soft, ruddy lips on his.

“Thanks man, we will see later I guess…!” His best friend’s cheerful voice feels like a bucket of freezing water thrown over him.

Jackson, chill. Literally. Also, maybe it’s time to ask him about… “Oh, yeah… Later I-“

“Ugh. I really want a Smoochie right now, in this exact moment. Like right now.”

But it seems that his best mate didn’t hear his mumbled words as he was groaning and pouting like an adorable child in need of his daily sugar intake to keep functioning.

Still, what the hell was a Smoochie? Was he talking about a literal smooching session or what…? Would Jooheon ever be so forward with him? Did he notice Jackson’s embarrassing crush for him?

“A Smoochie is one of the best smoothies in town, you know?” Jooheon laughs again, probably from the confused look on the Chinese student’s face. He had to explain.

“Ah.” No kisses involved, then.

“It’s made with hibiscus flowers! It’s one of the seasonal drinks they prepare in that nice coffee shop near the campus, Flower Café, you know?” He seems so eager to explain the entire story of the drink to Jackson, that if he didn’t know him, he’d honestly assume he was some kind of amateur food enthusiast. And honestly, knowing him as he is, the fastest way to his heart was definitely through his stomach. “It’s so colorful and it smells amazing…You should try it sometime! Even though, I think they changed the menu to fit the Autumn theme by now.” With a deep sigh he keeps going on, “It’s a pity I couldn’t go before the end of September, there was no time to breathe with this midterm coming so fast…”

Jackson lets out a nervous laugh as he musters up the courage to say what could only be an incredibly embarrassing thing, his mind completely blank and unable to think. His brain decided to not function anymore at the word ‘hibiscus’ for some reason.

“Hibiscus flowers symbolized, in the Victorian Europe, ‘delicate beauty’” - stop - “In China their meaning is related to wealth and fame.” - STOP BRAIN - “I think it’s the type of drink that fits you perfectly, you know for your bea-“

“OH NO!” Jooheon shouts, his mouth hanging open for a moment as the sudden realization hits him hard “I forgot my essay for linguistics!”

God maybe is real, maybe not, but Jackson owes him at least for this. He was definitely saved in the very last moment before he made himself look like a fool. He bites down on his upper lip hard, thankful he didn’t finish what he was going to say.

“I’m sorry man, I’ll catch you later, ok?”

Wait.  

“Sure, but about tonight’s party would you- “

But Jooheon already rushed through the other side of the corridor, running for his life as he probably had to get back to his apartment near the campus, fetch the essay and come back to the same building and arrive late for his class.

Jackson remains by himself, talking alone and completely out of the range from his next class. He accompanied Jooheon just to be able to talk with him about the party, but his plan to ask him out completely failed. Sure, if there’s time they will meet later at Jooheon’s apartment, so he might try to gather the courage to try to ask him out for a second time, but…

“You can do it, Jackson.”  

-

“...called you, but your cellphone is down - but workin’ on weibo what you think I’m blind? Playin’ hard to get, I know you want me too-”

Jackson looks up from his own phone, pulled away from his temporary distraction by the uncanny timing of the party’s booming music. Working on weibo huh, he thinks, echoing the lyrics in his own mind, smiling slightly at the out of context reference. The DJ tonight must be Chinese, he guesses. Maybe he should pay them a visit at the end of the night, strike up some conversation, and leave the party with another friend. He strides across the dance floor, empty messages already forgotten in his excitement at the chance of finding someone from the motherland. First and foremost, Jackson Wang has always been a social butterfly and not even a language barrier can stop that.

Unfortunately, the complexities of texting etiquette can, and he’s nervously clicking his phone open again, scrolling through a string of messages he’s read over at least three times. Writhing bodies mill around his own, an awkward unmoving block that sits smack dab right in the center of the party, but Jackson can’t bring himself to care about the hastily bumped shoulders or rude murmurs. It’s not like he can understand them that well anyway.

What he can understand is the fact that there seems to be no sign of Jooheon replying to the messages he sent over thirty minutes ago. Earlier this morning, he had stood there in the crowded hallway with his tongue swollen in his mouth as Jooheon had gone on and on about a terribly named drink. It had been on his mind the entire time, nine simple words, do you want to go to the party together, reverberating over and over in his throat and practically on the tip of his tongue for the entirety of the conversation. Casual, friendly, and entirely platonic - nothing could have gone wrong with him just asking outright. And yet, the words had sat fat and swollen in his mouth, souring like spoiled milk from being exposed to the rot of his cowardly disposition. Now remembering Jooheon’s innocent rambles about sugary drinks as he had considered a multitude of things less than pure brings a flush of heat to his cheeks, and the bitter taste from earlier bubbles in his mouth like acrid vomit as he scrolls again through his messages.

Sent 9:17 PM. The time reads 10 by now, and still no reply.

Getting to know the potentially fellow Chinese DJ suddenly seems much less appealing now, and Jackson considers trekking all the way back across campus again so he can eat away his feelings in bowls of Szechuan-style chicken as he cries his eyes out to old imperial dramas in his tiger print pajamas. Why yes he is a fully grown functioning college student, why do you ask?

He’s already retracing his steps back through the disgruntled crowd, picturing in his mind’s eye the exact arrangement of pillows he’ll set up on his bed for the night, when a familiar stare forces him to a sudden stop. Slim eyes, usually so soft and gentle, are lined to a knife-like point with perfectly flicked curves of black. Still, it’s unmistakably Jooheon’s stare pinning him like a taxidermied butterfly right where he stands, rooted motionless against the far wall of the lobby floor. Even from clear across the room, Jooheon’s gaze burns so intensely Jackson feels it down to the very marrow of his bones. Oh, and also directly in his crotch.

The unflinching stare draws closer and closer, never removing itself from his wavering own as its owner weaves his way effortlessly through the shifting crowd. The bass pounds up through Jackson’s locked legs, flowing through his blood and right into his brain, elevating his current consciousness into a state of lucid drunkenness. Maybe that’s a good thing, he wonders, especially if Jooheon keeps staring at him like that, there’s the very high chance his brain will leak right out of his ears and plop right onto the neon patterned dancefloor. Not very attractive, Jackson, he thinks, grimacing at the sudden appearance of the explicit imagery inside his swirling mind.

In his panicked what-ifs, Jooheon has somehow already stalked his way across the floor and is standing in front of Jackson with his dark, glittering stare, looking as if he’s absolutely ready to party the night away. All thoughts about melting cerebrums and drunken bass beats fly out of his mind as Jackson blatantly ogles the entirety of Jooheon’s too tight fashion. Not that he doesn’t appreciate his friend’s frayed hoodies and sagging sweatpants, but just - goddamn - they really don’t hold a candle up to the rips situated dangerously over gloriously thick upper thighs and the rest of his legs bound in skin-tight black jeans. The shock hits him again in another breath-sucking punch as he looks up to see a leather choker buckled dangerously around a pale neck, so thin and stiff Jackson faintly wonders how Jooheon is breathing with that on.

Then again, how is he breathing with anything he has on right now?

The DJ shifts songs, switching to something smoother with the same pulsing backtrack, and Jooheon sidles right up into Jackson’s space in perfect timing with the beat. Oh god - Jackson is really holding his breath right now, staring right into slitted orbs that blink lazily at him almost as if in wait. When raucous silence passes by for a few nerve-wracking moments, Jackson finally summons up his lost voice and says in a very manly, very steady tone, “When did you get here?”

Jooheon’s gaze flows like liquid mercury, dark and inscrutable as he tilts his head to the side in a movement that Jackson has seen an infinite amount of times before under innocent sunlight in hazy cafes. This time though, it’s so...predatory, Jackson is gripped by an irrational fear for his life.

No ripping teeth or hungry growls come though, only the same smooth, elegant smile dipping over the other’s full cheeks and revealing a very familiar set of dimples. “Just now, you?” he murmurs, stepping even closer, practically tangling his toned legs around Jackson’s own.

The Chinese student muffles an indistinct sound in his throat, something suspiciously resembling a choking cough as he unintentionally inhales the scent of heady jasmine mixed with a strange smoky sweetness from Jooheon’s upturned cheek. In what universe has Jooheon ever been this forward, this alluring? He admits it, he may have slightly dug his face a little too deeply into past hugs and it’s always been the soft, curling scent of warm cotton and fresh spring detergent, but right now the only way he can describe the perfume curling off of Jooheon’s skin in waves of heat is - pure sex.

“Uh, like uh thirty minutes ago, but no worries - woah-” Jackson’s reply is cut off with a definite sound of him choking on his own spit as Jooheon presses himself to the panicking man’s front in a smooth serpentine arch, pushing their chests together in a searing line of flesh. A light hand traces down his jacket clad arm, before loosely circling around his wrist and fitting Jackson’s locked fingers into the curve of a warm, supple waist.

Abort. Repeat. Abort. Hand. Jooheon’s waist. Chest. Jooheon’s chest. There are spots dancing over his vision, and he knows these ones aren’t from the neon beams. If he passes out now, at least he can go out with the perfect sight of Jooheon’s face burned into retinas as he descends into Hell.

“I’ll make it up to you,” Jooheon hums, practically purrs, pressing over Jackson’s twitching fingers with his own cool hand as he continues staring up at him with sharp eyes. They’ve changed though, still two pools of inscrutable ink, but the predatory glare has faded into something more silky, more inviting. And Jackson, with his shaking heart and pounding head, who is he to say no?

It’s as if Jooheon mentally heard the automatic response within Jackson’s head, and he’s backing out of the other’s space, leaving the air around him suddenly so cold. Still, Jooheon keeps one hand curled watchfully around Jackson’s wrist, tilting his chin towards some dark corridor in the furthest recesses of the dorm as he mouths “come on” to the stunned man with a shiny, pink smile. The moment he turns, strutting confidently through the flickering shadows, Jackson is tripping into action, allowing himself to be pulled along by the heated tether between them.

Now, Jackson doesn’t know what he expected his first time with Jooheon to be like (if he ever even expected a first time at all), but it most definitely did not include being pushed up against a wall and being kissed within an inch of his life. Jooheon’s lips are locked glossily over his own, and already there’s a tongue licking into his mouth, draining every shocked moan right out of him with its skilled workings. By the time Jackson comes back enough to the real world to begin reciprocating, there’s already fingers dancing down his jeans and popping open his fly without a second of hesitation or struggle.

The mouth over his own is suddenly gone, leaving him panting at empty air as Jooheon’s dark head situates itself right at crotch level. Jooheon. On his knees. For him. Jackson is definitely going to hell after tonight.

Jooheon sends him a sultry glance up through delicate lashes, complete with a hint of a tongue peeking out over spit-shined lips as he proceeds to maneuver Jackson’s rock-hard cock out of his boxers without a hint of hesitation. Jackson swears he’s already shaking down to his very bones, but the tremors only escalate another level further when Jooheon’s hands grip soft and steady around him, stroking gently up and down with deft fingers that smear beads of pearly precum over every inch of his painfully red cock.

“You don’t have to-” he starts, wincing at the sound of his own cracking voice, but Jooheon only puts a wet finger to his full mouth before swallowing Jackson down in one go.

Jackson bites his tongue, clamping a sweaty palm over his mouth for good measure as he tries to hold in every embarrassing sound as a tight, wet heat begins working itself over his cock in a quick, unforgiving rhythm. The slick noise of flesh against flesh echoes lewdly within his ears, and Jackson knows, no matter how much control he has over his 3-pack abs, if Jooheon continues at this pace he’s going to come like an eager middle schooler discovering the wonders of porn for the first time again.

Somehow, Jooheon seems to read his mind for the second time, and he pulls of Jackson’s now purpling cock with a sucking pop! There are trails of white smeared around his lips, and he makes direct eye contact with Jackson as he openly licks away the droplets and swallows them down with a distinct bobbing of his throat. Jackson automatically swallows his own spit at the sight and feels his tortured cock twitch happily in response to the sight. Somehow, Jooheon has twisted him into a complete masochist tonight, but with the way he’s straightening in front of him with further promises flashing within his slitted eyes, he can’t say he has a problem with that.

And without warning, complicated lacings of combat boots are being pulled loose and kicked to the side, and Jackson watches, flabbergasted, as Jooheon shimmies out of those skin-tight black jeans with a wiggling of his hips, his underwear quickly following until he’s standing thighs bared before Jackson, head cocked again as if in wait.

This time Jackson stands, absolutely frozen in place with no idea what to do, so Jooheon takes the initiative and slips forward, grinding himself up against the other man’s front as he pulls Jackson to his lips with looped hands around his neck. The moment their mouths connect, Jackson is shocked back into awareness, and it only hits him now that this is real, that Jooheon is willing to kiss him, willing to let him fuck him, and oh, how badly he wants it, how badly he needs it and how he needs it now.

Jooheon is the one being slammed back against a wall now, releasing a shuddering breath into Jackson’s all too eager mouth as he latches on even tighter around the other’s neck. Jackson hikes his hands up under the crook of bent knees, winding them around his waist as he lifts Jooheon off the ground entirely, and a surprised moan brushes sweetly over his lips as a reward. Maybe all those years of professional fencing are finally paying off now, he thinks deliriously, digging his fingers into the soft, full flesh of Jooheon’s ass.

He’s ready to move on, to take it to the final point, to take Jooheon as he’s presented so enticingly before him, but a realization suddenly douses his entire body with cold water. Jooheon senses it too, hands cupped around his cheeks as he separates his mouth from Jackson’s, a clear trail of spit hanging between their open lips. Jackson’s gaze catches on that erotic sight for a moment too long, before he knocks himself out of it with a stuttering whisper of “condoms?”

Jooheon gives him a squinted stare that strangely makes Jackson feel like folding to his knees and begging for forgiveness in a deep bow. “Why, are you not clean?” he asks bluntly, digging a foot into the curve of Jackson’s back.

The Chinese student splutters, pushing Jooheon further up against the wall in an effort to avoid dropping him. “No, no, I am, but shouldn’t we be safe?”

The hallway is almost entirely encased in shadow, but he swears he receives an immediate eye roll in response. However, the weight latched around his waist disappears as Jooheon steps down without shame, hips swaying confidently, over to his discarded pile of clothing. He bends over, Jackson trying and failing to not gawk over his full ass, and returns with a shiny packet in hand. He slips into the space between the other man and the wall and tears open the condom with a quick snarl of teeth before discarding the silver packet to the side.

Hail Mary, Jesus, and Joseph, Jackson might as well die from a brain aneurysm now. The sight of Jooheon opening a condom in a flash of white teeth and pink lips is the only thing he ever wants to remember for the rest of his life.

He shivers as Jooheon roughly rolls on the latex sleeve over his curved cock, biting his lip when a hooked finger pulls it tight with a snap right at the base. Jooheon straightens, seemingly a pout on his face as if asking ‘satisfied?’ Jackson swallows guiltily as heat begins roiling in his gut again, and an idiotic surge of bravery courses through him as he crowds Jooheon back up against the wall with his own body.

Soft hands slip smoothly over his shoulders in response, curling along the column of his neck in vague threat that has Jackson obeying immediately. He’s in the middle of hiking thick thighs up to his waist, when Jooheon laughs, high and lilting. Jackson pauses, rightfully confused and a little lovesick as he stares at Jooheon’s dimples on complete display. “Come on,” he murmurs, “don’t you want to try for the shoulders instead? Or can you not handle it?”

Oh it’s on. Jackson’s never known Jooheon to be so cocky, but if he’s asking for it, then Jackson is going to give it to him.

“Sure I can,” he smiles, purposefully letting his rough syllables roll low off his tongue as he immediately hooks bent knees to sit at both sides of his neck in a quick, steady hold. Jooheon blinks, appraising him perhaps, before grinning wickedly and seating himself down over Jackson’s cock in a single smooth push.

Velveteen heat encases him in an immediate vice, and Jackson chokes on the feeling, at the realization that Jooheon decided to come prepared. The image of Jooheon spreading himself open at home just for this, for him, flashes through his brain, and he has to grit his teeth to not come from that sight alone. For once, the other man finally shows signs of breathlessness as his mouth drops open in a silent o from the full drag of Jackson’s cock within him. The slight gasps dropping out of Jooheon’s shaking lips are doing wonders for Jackson’s already self-assured ego.

When it seems like an eternity has passed with them connected together like this, Jackson dares to move, pulling back with a slick sound of flesh and pushing back in with a simultaneous moan from the both of them. Jooheon immediately clenches around his cock and kicks his foot into Jackson shoulder, glaring up at him with a very obvious command.

Jackson obeys with another burning pull, dragging it out even longer just to feel that sparking friction from Jooheon’s fluttering insides. Another hard kick digs into back of his head, and Jackson slams in without warning, the force of it knocking Jooheon so hard against the wall he arches his throat up in a cry of breathless surprise.

The air fills with cut off moans and yelps as Jackson picks up pace, drilling Jooheon onto his cock over and over again as he chases after the oncoming wave of absolute ecstasy. Jooheon’s bare legs bounce uselessly over Jackson’s shoulders with every thrust, no resistance left for any bruising kicks as he can only cling to Jackson’s tensed body to keep himself from falling.

Jackson’s close, too close, and the sentimental idiot he is, he wants to come with Jooheon’s lips on his, crying out the other’s name, so he blindly gropes for Jooheon’s face in the darkness with his own. Like a magnet, plush lips fit themselves over his, and they’re messily making out as Jackson pistons erratically in and out of Jooheon’s wet heat.

It’s here, the wave, the final build up in his stomach, and Jackson groans out his final confession against Jooheon’s gasping breath. “Jooheon, I, I’m going to-”

A bruising force slams into his shoulder, and Jackson literally has the breath knocked out of him as he falls back onto his ass. He can only gape, jaw dropped, as Jooheon stands above him, glare raining down all of the fires of hell upon Jackson’s prostrated body. The other’s cock still bobs proudly, its head tinged pink against his black shirt, and there’s a hint of slick dripping down his pale thighs. Jackson’s traitorous cock twitches heartily against his stomach at the sight.

Jooheon steps right between his spread legs, and leans down, a strangely gleeful smile pulled across his dimpled cheeks. “I’m Hojoon. Jooheon’s twin.”

And with that he’s spinning on his heel, the same confident sway in his walk as he collects his clothes and disappears past the corner without even a backwards glance.

Jackson sits there, fly down, dick hard as he considers whether or not he still has enough dignity to drag himself back to his dorm tonight. Jooheon’s twin’s - Hojoon’s - words ring over and over again through his mind, and Jackson prays to his dear grandma’s heavenly soul this won’t come back to bite him in the ass tomorrow.

-

Jooheon keeps glancing wistfully now and then at his blacked-out phone screen because of course he had to forget the portable battery charger in his room. Before coming to the party, when he got back from afternoon classes, he didn’t think of plugging it in at home as eating pizza had seemed much more important at that time. In his defense, he was starving after being out for the entire day, and then his brother was talking about having a “fast” match on Overwatch, so he needed to participate even if “fast” matches usually lasted hours. That was because Hojoon kept whining things like “Fuck no, we need to do another one! It can’t end like this” – “I need to beat this person’s ass again!” or “My reputation completely depends on destroying this Hanzo for one more match.” Jooheon wasn’t really into gaming as he actually sucked at anything related to hard competition, but he was glad they usually played in groups with some of Hojoon’s internet friends. They won most of the times against strong parties, and he couldn’t really complain when he was carried as Mercy - plus it was funny to see his brother flame people and talk rubbish into the voice channel.

Sometimes playing was a good distraction from college-related work, annoying parents, and just moments when he felt like not talking to people for some reason.

Though, it was almost 10 p.m. when he noticed what time it was after getting sucked into eleven more matches, and just a few hours before he promised himself to not be late again on Jackson, like how it had happened this morning during Literature class and a few other times, but he was already breaking his promise as they had to meet around 9.

When he arrived at the party, almost thirty minutes had passed, and along the way he even lost his brother somewhere into the mess the dorm had become for that festive and liberating night at the end of midterms.

“I’ll help you search for your friend,” he said with a smirk before disappearing, without giving Jooheon a chance to answer, as the younger twin would have probably suggested that they look for him together, since his phone was basically dead in its electronic grave at this point. Hojoon knows what Jackson looks like, Jooheon talked about him and showed him their countless dumb selfies they took during classes, so he’s sure his brother will be able to recognize him… But if they can’t communicate in some way, how can they meet? He can’t stop his mind from thinking about those comic strips with different characters chasing after each other, opening more and more doors without being able to come across one another.

Jooheon slides his lifeless phone into one of his black sweatpant’s side pockets and keeps looking around in search of familiar faces, still everything seems to be the same on every dorm floor - people dancing, drunk people dancing, beer pong matches, and yep, just more people drinking and dancing -  Ah, if only he could chug down drink after drink like everybody does and be carefree. With just half of one of those he knows would start to ramble about random stuff (nobody would want to know how bees could actually recognize human faces) and dance in every possible awkward way, unlike Hojoon, who has the tolerance of a devil (or at least that’s what people say) and can drink straight for an entire night, ending it though with a massive killer hangover in the morning that Jooheon has to take care of...

He is about to change floor and go up the stairs when he sees his brother coming down from the same stairway as he zips his fly up, buttoning his pants with a smug look on his face. His parted hair, which had been styled so effortlessly, is now completely messed up into a dark tangled nest, the laces of his combat boots halfway tied, and his black shirt slightly rucked up to show a slight outline of his hip bone.

“Had fun?” Jooheon asks when Hojoon sees him and stops for a moment, probably thinking about what just happened, before keep going down the stairs with a now tensed smile.

“Uh, nothing special really-” He starts saying, stopping then in front of him at the end of the stairs as he fixes himself, sliding down his black shirt, “but I haven’t found your friend and this party sucks…sooo shall we go?”

The younger twin pouts, furrowing his brows as he looks at his older brother with defeat. “But hyung, we just arrived! And I- “

“Yes, you promised him and everything,” Hojoon imitates him with a slightly more high-pitched tone than his own, completely it with an exaggerated eyeroll, gesticulating in an exasperated mocking way. “By this time though, he probably went back to his dorm since you had to meet him almost-” he then looks down, annoyed at his own phone, the time showing up on the lock screen with a simple tap of fingers, “-two hours ago.”

Jooheon finds no fault with his reasoning as he catches himself sighing loudly, head slightly drooping, lolling to one side while glancing at his brother sideways, with all the sadness in the entire universe at once.

For sure Jackson is mad at him right now, thinking about how blatantly careless his friend is or how stupid he is when he’ll tell him about the phone charging problem. Like, what kind of irresponsible adult forgets to charge his phone when he knows it has 10% of its battery left?

He kind of regrets now playing Pug’s Quest during afternoon classes, but after some time he had to occupy his mind differently as some sort of a break, since he couldn’t really focus for more than forty minutes straight at his teacher’s boring tone without seeing double or getting a headache.

He definitely needs to apologize to Jackson soon, he thinks, sighing loudly again.

Hojoon, knowing him better than anyone else, comes closer and graps his lukewarm hand into his own colder one for a moment, before pulling him lightly into the direction of the hallway which is even more crowded than where they’re currently standing.

“Come on Jooheonie, let’s go home.” He pulls again with a bit of more strength. “You’ll see your friend tomorrow.”

Jooheon just nods silently, looking more most miserable than he ever has while following his brother around, hands still locked together, and Hojoon can’t stop himself from letting out a small amused laugh at seeing him react like that.

“Hyuuung, don’t laugh at my pain!” a pleading whine comes from behind him, making him laugh even more.

“I’m sorry, your face is just too funny,” the older twin shakes his head as he tries to contain the amusement Jooheon always causes with his childish behavior – even if his younger twin thinks the same of him (and whenever that happens they can’t help but physically ‘fight’ about who’s the stronger one. Hojoon always wins by pinching ruthlessly Jooheon’s thighs, ending up as maybe the more childish one, but definitely the winner).

“Then your face is funny too.”

“Did you just sass me?” the older twin asks glancing back at Jooheon for a moment, before he keeps pulling him through wasted people overdoing the celebrations just a bit too much, as only the midterms period passed. It wasn’t like it was finals ending.

“Maybe.” Jooheon murmurs with a small smile, following his brother through the crowd…Oh. He stops for a moment in front of a bulky and muscled guy, and with his free hand he grabs the plastic cup in the guy’s very intimidating grip and chugs it down in one fast go. A deep “hey!” can be heard from above, but when Hojoon drinks the entire cup, he only replies with an overconfident glance, chin tilted up in a manner that seems to dare the man into saying anything else.

At that look, no more protests can be heard, and the older twin pulls the younger one again into a silent march aimed into getting them out of here.

Before leaving, Hojoon throws the empty cup somewhere into the writhing mess, satisfied.

End of the first chapter

Second Chapter: Here come the regrets

-

“Hyung, I’m worried,” is the first thing Jooheon says, pouting as he plops himself onto Hyunwoo’s lap.

The older man blinks, glasses slightly skewed over his nose, as his English report is entirely replaced with Jooheon’s sullen visage. A pen dangles halfheartedly from between his thumb and index finger, the next sentence more or less forgotten. The warm weight in his lap wriggles needily, and he sighs internally, dropping the pen with a light clatter as Jooheon scooches further and further up along his crotch. Hyunwoo wraps his newly freed arm around the younger boy’s waist, hiking him up to his chest (like a baby, his sleep deprived mind coos), keeping him still against his lap. Jooheon pouts again, but he ceases his squirming and plops his head softly against his boyfriend’s shoulder, nuzzling at the threadbare t-shirt there. Hyunwoo makes direct eye contact with the other’s wide, puppy-dog gaze, and he swears something is melting within him. Most likely all his internal organs, but Jooheon tends to have that effect on people.

“What’s up?” he asks simply, stroking a hand over the curve of the younger’s sweater-clad waist. Jooheon smiles at the gentle touch and takes to wriggling again, burying himself in the other’s all-encompassing warmth as he settles into story-mode.

“So, Hojoon, my brother you know-” Hyunwoo nods sagely at Jooheon’s questioning tone, and the younger continues, deeming it satisfactory, “he’s been coming home with a lot of...bruises.” Hyunwoo watches Jooheon press his pink lips open and closed, a perpetual sheen shining across the soft curves, and he almost doesn’t register the implications behind the younger’s murmured statement. When “bruises” and “Hojoon” finally register in his distracted mind, he physically jolts at his realization. Hojoon is Jooheon’s perfectly identical twin and the idea of him covered in bruises...well, Hyunwoo’s mind is certainly going places.

Jooheon’s voice pierces through his haze, and Hyunwoo blinks back into focus only to see genuine worry in the younger’s eyes. “I just, he started dating a new guy recently…” Jooheon sighs, gaze wandering, cheeks bunching as he tries to find the right words, “and he always comes back the next morning with um, hickies? But like-” he gestures with his hands, grasping for an image Hyunwoo can’t see, “they’re always so intense I end up calling them bruises in my head…”

He trails off, eyebrows scrunched in a light furrow, and Hyunwoo presses his thumb over it, smoothing out the wrinkle with a gentle swipe. “Who is your brother dating again?” he asks, bouncing his legs and jostling Jooheon in his lap, attempting to dislodge the frown from the younger’s face.

“Um-” Jooheon’s voice hitches with each bounce, and he pouts up at Hyunwoo to stop. The older man muffles a chuckle against his cheek and ceases the movement, patting affectionately at Jooheon’s waist. His boyfriend scooches up against his chest, resituating himself in Hyunwoo’s lap before muttering, “Kihyun, I think?”

Kihyun. Hyunwoo knows that guy: round cheeks, pinched mouth, always ready to yell at someone somehow. Also, he goes around with a head of bright pastel pink hair. Hyunwoo shrugs because hey, at least he rocks it better than the students from the art department. Hyunwoo has passed him in the hall a few times, and other than a casual nod, they don’t talk at all. Basically, he assumes he’s an alright guy, if not a little uptight.

He voices his belief out loud, pressing it in a whispered kiss against Jooheon’s curtain of bangs. The scent of soft baby powder unfurls into his nose, and he nuzzles deeper into messy brown curls. He’s pulled out of his reverie when sweater-clad hands yank at his neck, and he’s met with Jooheon’s round cheeks, puffy and flushed with dissatisfaction. He sits up straight, hands flapping over Hyunwoo’s back as he tries to make his point.

“But, but bruises hyung! Bruises! I don’t want to question him, but...don’t you think it might be unhealthy?” He lips curve out again into a pout, and Hyunwoo’s heart does a row of backflips all the way down from his chest to his stomach.

“Jooheonie, I think,” he pauses, considering his words carefully, “it’d be best if you asked your brother directly instead of assuming things here with me.” At the younger’s unmoving pout, he presses a chaste kiss over soft lips before pulling back with what Jooheon calls his “half-moon smile,” humming a light “okay?” as his final nudge for the younger man to do the right thing.

Jooheon sighs, deflating against his chest, before stealing a quick, sweet kiss from Hyunwoo’s lax mouth and springing out of his lap. “Thanks hyung,” he smiles, pecking the older man’s cheek on his way out, a hopeful spring in his step.

Hyunwoo waves until Jooheon is disappearing behind the door frame and turns back to his English assignment, drooping back against his chair as a wave of lethargy instantly overtakes him. He forces the pen back into his cramped fingers and continues the lost sentence, lips and cheek still tingling from the force of Jooheon’s casual affection.

-

Hojoon rummages for his apartment key, shouldering wayward bags of groceries and books up from his fatigued arms. The key fits into the lock after much stubborn jamming, and he pushes roughly into the room shoulder-first, paper bags shifting loudly against one another as they slip at the sudden movement.

*

“Fucking-” Kihyun swears, muffled, as he fumbles at a wall of flesh, scrabbling down tensed thighs that encase his face completely from all sides. There’s the heady taste of salt and something more dripping down his mouth, but there’s also the distinct lack of air flowing through his currently crushed nose. He claws again down the curve of Hojoon’s bare ass, digging his fingers into the soft flesh there, knowing exactly how the marks will look on the other’s backside in the morning and not regretting a moment of it - not when he’s actually choking from his boyfriend’s very supple and heavy weight.

He audibly makes a noise of distress when said weight only bears down even harder, crushing with the force of a two ton truck against his cheekbone as Hojoon grinds down without mercy against his spluttering mouth. Alright, enough, Kihyun may love it when his partner makes him lose his breath during sex but to the point of absolute suffocation? That’s a discussion for another day entirely (safewords!!! the last functioning part of his brain screams).

He says it just so as he musters every ounce of strength back into his jelly limbs, launching the scorching inferno off of him in a sudden toppling motion, gasping air into his soaked mouth like a drowned man. Which, to be honest, he almost did...under the absolute wonder of his partner’s thighs that is. Again, absolutely appreciated, just no literal choking please.

Hojoon doesn’t seem to get the message though as he rolls onto all fours in a perfectly unruffled landing. Like a cat, Kihyun thinks, replaying all the videos of children dropping their cats from terrible heights just to see them land upright without any trouble. Even still, after landing like a cat, Hojoon follows through with the attitude, glaring over at Kihyun’s gaped expression with a cocked chin, legs coiled tense against the bedsheets. Silence ensues and in his oxygen-deprived brain, Kihyun almost expects the younger man to begin grooming his curled black locks in a prissy manner.

Hojoon only glares harder, turning so that his back is entirely facing the end of the bed before yanking a blanket over his bottom half. There goes the fresh laundry of the week. Not that Kihyun expected anything on the bed to last after tonight, but what with the way Hojoon is cocooning himself with that goose down blanket...it’ll be awhile since they use it again.

“Quoting you,” the younger man begins, still sulking darkly as he rests his cheek on raised knees, “ ‘Please fucking choke me with your thighs, that’s how I want to go tonight.’ “

A sharp heat pulses through Kihyun’s gut at hearing his own explicit words uttered out loud, and he presses his lips together into a thin line. Hojoon arches a neat brow at his silent reaction and scoffs, turning his glare to a loose feather stuck among the bed sheets instead. “Don’t tell me you regret it now...”

His words trail off, and the atmosphere between them immediately chills, filling with a kind of murky lull where all Kihyun can discern from Hojoon’s errant sheet-tracing is a tinge of quiet bitterness.

#happycakewrites

[clarkgreggreporter]

The Reddit MarvelStudios AMA (Ask Me Anything) with Clark Gregg, May 16, 2017 (click here to read all the questions)

A: (out of sequence, so no question): Well, this week I'm really missing Bill Paxton and Powers Boothe because we lost them and they were both such excellent guys.

A: Missed a few questions there. I'll try to answer some. I love the MCU and love watching the movies and I miss my friends in those casts. That said, I am really proud of where we've gone with Agents of SHIELD and I love this bunch of actors and writers (and crew) as much as any I've ever worked with.

Q What upcoming MCU property are you looking forward to the most? Tahiti is a magical place! A: Anything with Adam Warlock and that may have just been teased in GOTG2

Q Do you have any stories and/or favourite memories of working with the late Bill Paxton? Thanks! A: So many. Just the big grin he'd show up with every day and say, "Bud-dy..." Just a great guy and a wonderful actor/filmmaker with more stories than anyone I've ever met.

Q: What is your favourite MCU movie? A: Pretty damn psyched for Captain Marvel especially with the amazing Brie Larson

Q: Hi! Thank you so much for being SO awesome. In Avengers, when Coulson has been stabbed by Loki and gets to shoot him with the massive gun, he says "oh, that's what that does". What do you wish that gun had done? A: Gone off on its own a minute earlier.

Q: Hi! Thanks for doing this. What's your favorite hand? And if you could have any new hand for your character, what could it do? Thank you! A: The SHIELD attachment does not suck

Q: Hi Clark! Thanks for doing this AMA and everything you've done for the MCU. Love your portrayal of A.C. (Daisy needs to bring that back imo). Have you had any input or influence on the development of Coulson? A: I have some input but most of the great stuff on our show is straight from the writers.   Dream storyline involves saving the Defenders and the Avengers and the Guardians and the Royal Family and everyone in Legion when they get themselves in trouble with Thanos. In a musical episode by Lin Manuel Miranda. (Hamilton)

Q: u/70astralaxe wanted to ask you those question but he coudn't so I'll Phil in [sorry for the pun...]    Favourite Star Wars movie.    Favourite MCU movie.    Whether he had any "holy shit" moments during script-read/when filming a scene.    What he wants for the future of MCU/SHIELD.    If he is planning on doing non-MCU stuff anytime in the near future.    Favourite Ice-Cream Flavour.    Favourite Holiday Destination. A: I'll pick 2. Empire and that coconut something from Ben and jerry's

Q: Clark, it was great seeing you at Denver Comic Con last year. I was the one who told you I loved Choke as well as the intro you wrote for Avengers: Endless Wartime. My question though, do you have any projects coming up that you are writing/directing? Choke was 2008, and Trust me was 2013, so I was hoping we were due for something else soon. Thanks, love your work. A: Writing a film and a sci-fi pilot. Hope to make something next hiatus.

Q: When Joss called you up about Much Ado About Nothing, what was your reaction? Did you get any say in your role? Have you done any other Shakespeare? Thanks for doing this AMA today! A: I was terrified when Joss called, but excited because I had just had a dream I was doing some Shakespeare and it felt ordained. And I love Joss.

Q: Have you watched GOTG Vol. 2 yet? A: Yes. Laughed my ass off.

Q: Hello, What's your favourite MCU movie? Also, what does RDJ smell like? A: I'm a big fan of the Avengers and anything with Cap. Or Stark. Or Thor or the Guardians. Or Strange. Let's face it, I'm a Marvel slut. Robert smells like warm beaches and babies laughing and a freshly washed thong.

Q: What kind of changes in perspective on your character did you work on to bring the 3 different versions of Coulson to life this season? We've had Agent Coulson, Robo Coulson, and Mr. Coulson. What was the most fun about doing that? Also, minor question, do you happen to know what brand / model of glasses you were rocking in the Framework? (I tweeted @amandalynnriley, but alas no response). A: It was fun to have new takes on Phil. Amazing work by the writers. Especially geeking out teacher Phil with his soap. The glasses are called Barton Pereira (sp)

Q: What would like to do for a living if you weren't an actor, besides dominating in lip sync battles? A: Music something. probably not very well. But I loved being in a band. A lot.

Q: Hi Clark! Awesome for you to do this before the big season finale. How do you think your character has changed between now and the beginning of Iron Man 1? In other words, do you think your acting of Phil Coulson has changed that much in 9 years? A: Ah, jeez, I don't know. The character has been through a lot and gotten older, so maybe he's less innocent and a little darker, but I probably am too. I don't know about the acting. I try to forget that's what it is.

Q: Do you read your fanmail? If so, what's something cool a fan has sent you? A: I do. I get amazing stuff and try to answer it all. I've been sent crocheted blankets and lola pillows and maybe some underwear.

Q: Thank you for putting your all into Coulson. He's my favourite character in the entire Marvel universe. As for my question, how much of Clark has gone into the role? Specificially the frequent Star Wars references... is that your input or does it come purely from the writers? A: The writers and I love Star Wars and couldn't imagine Coulson wouldn't as well. There's a bunch of me and then some stiff that's verrrrry different from me.

Q: More serious question: One of the things I love about AoS is how men and women fight each other as equals. But I've wondered if that took the male actors a little getting used to, going all out punching and kicking female actors. Did you find that awkward at first? A: Definitely. Really did not like punching May or Daisy even though neither was a real punch.

Q: Hey Clark! Huge fan of your work in the MCU. My question. Did you know that when you died in the Avengers that you would be brought back for SHIELD? Thanks! A: I did not. Neither did they. #CoulsonLives gave them the idea. So thanks.

Q: What's the weirdest thing a fan ever asked you to do? A: Sign a boob. But it was a big boob so I wrote my full name and then Agent Coulson.

Q: With the amount of time Coulson has been spending in the field in AOS, it has become more and more unlikely that the Avengers wouldn't know that Phil is still alive. Do you personally think any of them know? A: I really wish I had a good answer for that, but I don't. Some day.

Q: Yo Clark! I'm sure you're gonna get a bunch of marvel questions and that's awesome. But I know you're a basketball fan so this is my first question. Who ya got winning the finals? And secondly: Any advice for someone who's dream is to work within marvel either on the tv side or movie side? A: Warriors look soooo good. To work for Marvel it helps to love comics and marvel and then just try to be really good at what you want to do there.

Q: Hey Clark! Read any good books lately? A: Yes. The Wind Up Bird Chronicle by Mirukami

Q: What was it like meeting Melissa Benoist for the dubsmash battle? And have you met any of the other CW heroes? A: I think she's amazing. Loved her in Whiplash. And the fact that she took part in that for charity made me love her even more.

Q: I've been marvel fan since my early childhood, having been born without half of my right hand, my parents and superheroes have always been the biggest source of inspiration. Even in my wildest dreams, i couldnt have predicted these last 10 years, what MCU has achieved and how popular these stories would become all around the world, in that way im living my childhood dream- to see it all done well on the silver screen. What is even crazier- I wouldnt have predicted that the Son of Coul, a shield agent from phase one movies, would start his own show- his own team. Over the years, Aos became , in my humble opinion, the best that superhero tv shows can offer right now, and most recently, even a better source of fun than some of the MCU movies. Past week, i have been buzzing, that we re getting another season. Mostly, i want to say THANK YOU, to everyone who helps to make this show what it is, a source of inspiration and fun to look forward to almost every week. Thank you Mr. Gregg, for breathing life into this awesome character, and also for motivating me in my own studies, and career. I just wanted to express my gratitude, and ask, recently, the Ghost Rider, LMD and Framework arcs have cemented the greatness of this show. When you got first approached to make a shield show, did you think it would end up as such a compelling characters, stories, effects and going for 5 seasons on a small screen? Did you have any doubts? Was there ever a moment when you got a script/shot a scene, where u said to yourself : "Wow, this is amazing" ? Thank you, wish you and the whole cast/crew all the best in making another successful season. A big fan, all they way from Slovakia A: This made my day. Thank you.

Q: What did you think of Iron Fist on Netflix? Do you think it deserves the criticism? What would you have done different if you were the showrunner? A: I love Iron Fist. Both seasons. (then...another reply) Oops. I meant Daredevil. Didn't sleep too well.

Q: Do you remember your time on The Shield well? Great performance. Any fun stories from the set? A: My friend David Mamet directed and the character was so uhinged I felt wrong afterwards. Also, Billy Gierhart who has directed the most eps of AoS was the cameraman on that ep.

Q: As a big fan of What Lies Beneath and Choke, can we expect to see you work behind the camera on Agents of SHIELD any time soon? A: I may direct an episode in season 5. if I don't pass out from exhaustion just thinking about it.

Q: Jed Whedon recently made his directing debut in SHIELD's episode Self Control, which is probably my favorite episode of the show now. What was it like having him direct? Do you think we can look forward to more episodes helmed by him? Great job this season by the way! Coulson's speech a few episodes ago rocked, Captain America would be proud A: jed was amazing and that may be my favorite too. He better direct some more or we'll drag him down to set and make him.

Q: Hey Clark! Thanks for coming by! In about a year we'll be coming up on Iron Man's 10th Anniversary, which means you'll have been playing Coulson for 10 years. How does that feel? And, if you could have Coulson appear in any Marvel-related property, what would it be? A: Wow. Ten years. I feel very lucky. I could have been stuck that long playing a character I didn't love in a world I didn't care about. #Grateful

Q: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D has been renewed for a fifth season, but does not appear on ABC's Fall schedule. Obviously, it will start later, but we've been getting mixed signals. Do you know if Season 5 will be a full, 22 episode season or has it been shortened? A: Yes. Full season after the 8 eps of The Inhumans. Then we do our whole run. Could be cool that way.

Q: Can you tell us anything about today's AoS finale? A: Coulson will change.

Q: This is also a question from my girlfriend, who is at work and can't ask herself: Do you think Phil and May will have a happy ending? A: I won't touch that one.

Q: How would coulson react to meeting the defenders? A: He would geek out. But who knows, maybe they would too.

Q: Two questions: first, I'm currently binge watching the West Wing and I have to ask what it was like working with dialog written by Aaron Sorkin?  Second, are we ever going to see your wife, Jennifer Grey, on AoS? A: Aaron's dialogue is like no one else's. I did Sports Night, TWW and A Few Good Men on Broadway. So I'm lucky. He did a lot to put me on the map.

Q; Hi Clark! Thank you for doing this! I can’t wait for tonight’s finale. Can you take us through what it was like auditioning and successfully getting the role of Coulson? Did you ever imagine that the role would develop and expand like it has over time? A: Never auditioned. Got an offer to play a part that was two scenes in IM. Then they added more and more scenes. Cut to Phil nine years later about to walk into the season 4 finale where he will finally (REDACTED)

Q: Clark, you all have been doing such a great job over the last few years. Why do you think Agents of SHIELD has resonated with so many fans around the world? A: Because thanks to the cast, crew, the writers and Marvel the show keeps getting better all the time. That's very rare.

Last Words From Clark: Thanks so much of the great questions. Sorry I couldn't answer more of them. Acting in an independent film today so I have to run. Join me on the twitter for the S.4 finale tonight. Love you all.