#( * ic. desires. ) i feel so ignorant but i could never give up ; does anybody ever know when they got what they want

[wri0thesley]

Im such a clown for ppl having to learn to depend on others who wont let them down despite like every other time before. So could i get some la squadra headcanons for a new teammate who usually has to pull lone wolf stuff or only has ppl depend on them actually working with others and developing concern for the team? Theyd probably get spoken to a few times at first because of the unfriendly attitude but the power of friendship prevails and they end up actually being a sweetie who just couldnt show that part before 😌 (please and thank you)

beneath the cut!

Risotto is used to being a lone wolf himself, so he totally understands your predicament - however, you’re now a member of a team, and you have not yet proven yourself as worthy or capable of handling things alone. He’s not one for scoldings - he doesn’t have time, and he’s awkward enough that he doesn’t like doing it - but he will pull you into his office to look into your eyes with his own, both pitch-dark and blood-red, as he tells you in that low rumbling voice that you have to learn to work as a team, even if you’re not used to it. He might even take charge of being your partner himself - after all, the rest of La Squadra are already paired up, and as the rookie you’re at risk of being more hindrance than help. The first time that you act out on your own to protect him, Risotto’s lips curl into a smile, even as you go hot all over and awkward. Your walls are very slowly coming down, and Risotto is happy to help in that process. 

Formaggio thinks your insistence on being alone is so funny, and he seeks to ruin it in any way possible. As the heart of the team, he considers it his duty to try and get you to laugh and to smile, whether the two of you are on a mission together or whether you’re just in the hideout. You get incredibly frustrated by his easy-going personality, the way he laughs and slaps you on the back - but when you snap back at him, there’s a strange glint in his eye that suggests you’re on thin ice, so you try to control yourself. In the end, he gently pulls and coaxes laughter out of you too. When your defenses are finally down and you don’t know how to admit that you care, Formaggio is the first one you go to with your predicament, and his careful handling (surprisingly sensitive) helps you along with the rest of the squad enormously. 

Illuso knows that you’re sweet at heart, because Illuso has seen and spoken to your former friends, sees you when you don’t know he’s there, and has all of the intelligence on you that he could ask for. He watches the way that you establish yourself as a loner in La Squadra with interest and holds his cards close to his chest, because he is always waiting to see how he can use them to benefit himself. When you come back from missions with Formaggio with a light smile on your face, he can’t help but grin to himself in return too that your defenses are falling. He won’t take an active part in the attempt to get you to open up your heart, but his own lone nature means that the two of you never really get into arguments either. He’s quick to embrace the new you when it comes out - it’s nice to be fussed over a little bit. 

Prosciutto, born and raised in the mafia, knows that the good of the all should come before the good of the many - and for that reason, he finds you abhorrent at first. He understands your desire to be solitary, but he’s forever sharply barking at you about how selfish it is for you to be like this. You need to get along with everyone else so that the team can work smoothly. He tells you that you don’t need to be friends with them, but the absolute least you could do is work with them as equals, because it’s downright insulting that you seem to think you can do everything on your own. He’s one of the most wary when your true colours start to show - he has a tendency to make snap judgements on a person’s character, and he’d had you pegged for selfish. Still. One of the things he values most in other people is potential, and you have that in spades, so he clenches his fists and hopes it’s not a trick. The longer that everything goes on, though, the easier it is for Prosciutto to see that your initial reactions to everything were a self-defense mechanism - and as a man who puts up his own walls and barriers, he can understand that. 

Pesci is a little scared of you. Honestly, you remind him of Prosciutto in that you don’t seem to need anybody else around you, only instead of dedicating yourself to helping those weaker than yourself, you seem to want to protect them - all on your own. He’s much too scared of you to shout at you or complain, and he’s only ever out with you on a mission with Prosciutto who does the scolding himself. When you and Formaggio have that talk about you wanting to let your true self shine through, Pesci is the first person you go to in order to apologise. Your much sweeter, gentler, more giving nature wins him over completely - and he’s key, too, in making sure that Prosciutto accepts your new self. 

Melone is not deterred by your desire to act alone. Melone is not deterred by much - he’s a constant presence at your side, talking and flirting and smirking and ignoring you when you tell him to leave you alone. Whilst you can attempt to be a lone wolf in his presence, it’s likely you will not succeed - and in his constant talking, he manages to eke out information like your blood type and your star-sign. With these, he occasionally gives you small smiles - he knows, you see, that these things predispose you to being generous and kind and sweet. He knows, too, then, that you’re putting on an act - and when your true self is revealed, he’s smug in the knowledge that he predicted it. He doesn’t treat you any differently from before, though - Melone was ignoring your attempts to be solitary from the very beginning. 

Ghiaccio’s pissed off by you. What else is new? He’s pissed off in various ways at various times at every member of the team in turn, so it’s no surprise - but it’s a surprise to him that you don’t seem to care about his anger, that you simply go off on your own. He yells at you on missions about how you’re endangering everyone by not thinking of anyone but yourself - how you have to learn to get along when you’re in a group like this together (which is rich, coming from him). But after you have begun to mellow out, and you’re concerned . . . well. You would expect Ghiaccio to sniff at you and snark about how this isn’t going to fool him, but Ghiaccio too has had to unlearn some things now he’s part of a team and he sees his former self mirrored in you. He sees that you’re trying to do better - so he accepts it, and if he gets flustered when your sweet nature is applied to him, nobody needs to know that. 

Sorbet and Gelato keep themselves to themselves. They’re grudgingly impressed by your insistence on doing the same thing, though when you’re assigned to work with them on a mission, they find you endlessly frustrating. They move as one, looking out for one another - and as the oldest and most experienced members of the team, they don’t appreciate that they suddenly feel like they have to babysit you. Gelato speaks to you harshly - as a former military man, he hates that streak of the ‘lone wolf’ in you most of all when it puts the rest of the team at risk. When your softer side starts coming through, after spending so much time with other members, they ease up on you a little bit. Still, they’re never going to be overly friendly - they’ve got each other, and they need very little else. They will make fun of your occasionally sappy smiles and your sweet sudden concern for everyone though. They’re the most likely to bitingly remind you of just how unfriendly you were when you first came to La Squadra. 

#jojo postin #jojo headcanons #jjba #risotto nero #formaggio #illuso #prosciutto #pesci #melone #ghiaccio #sorbet #gelato #Anonymous

[hydra-collector]

Wrath

Ship: Platonic LAMP???? I wouldn’t really know what to call it, platonic (or romantic) Intrulogical

Characters: Logan Sanders, Patton Sanders, Virgil Sanders, Roman Sanders, Remus Sanders

TW: self-harm, suicidal thoughts, crying, blood and fairly visual description of injury

Words: 1542

Summary: “Shut up.”

The last word was uttered in a growl, Logan’s hands tugging at his new long sleeves in frustration. Patton didn’t hear him, Virgil gave a small glance before looking back over to Roman, and Roman was too invested in his debate with Patton to notice.

“I said, shut up.”

(In which Logan has an angry breakdown.)

~~

“Shut up.”

The last word was uttered in a growl, Logan’s hands tugging at his new long sleeves in frustration. Patton didn’t hear him, Virgil gave a small glance before looking back over to Roman, and Roman was too invested in his debate with Patton to notice.

“I said, shut up. ”

He said it louder this time, gaining the attention of the other three.

“Isn’t that kinda rude, Lo-”

“I don’t fucking care,” Logan cut Patton off. The moral side looked taken aback at his use of cursing, but didn’t say anything. Good.

“I think you’ve been plenty rude already, haven’t you, Morality?”

He refused to address Patton by his name, the cuff of his button down he was gripping cutting off the blood flow in his wrists. He straightened up, looking around at his friends.

“Do you know stupid you all sound?”

“Wow, teach-”

“Nope. None of you are allowed to say anything. I have been trying to help you for the past hour, but yet you all still refuse to listen. This problem would have been solved ages ago if you had just let me talk. You hate that, though. You hate me.”

Roman and Patton looked as if they were trying to hold back from saying something back. Logan let go of his cuff, shifting his hand so his nails could dig against his wrist. Little pricks of blood made their way out of his skin, but he didn’t dare stop.

“You all have made it very clear that you want nothing to do with me. You ignore me, interrupt me, ridicule my perfectly valid advice, villainize me for simple mistakes that I immediately fix, ignore my obvious mental health issues while you make a big deal out of each other’s slight concerns, and you,” he shot a look at Patton, “don’t respect my boundaries.”

“We-”

Patton cut himself off this time, anxiously tugging at the sleeve of his hoodie hanging down over his chest. He hadn’t deserved that gift, Logan decided.

“Maybe you’re all right. Maybe I’m not important. Virgil may be a key component of Thomas, but are you really going to pretend that Anxiety is more important than Logic?!?”

He looked around, letting the thought sink into their minds. The guilt was showing on their faces, he could tell that they felt bad, once Logan finally had the balls to call them out on it.

“Or maybe I’m just not important to you. I’m annoying, stupid, intrusive, boring, the list and insults go on, and I’m not good enough for any of you. I have tried harder. I have done everything I can to make you all listen, to make you all care, to show that I know full well how much feelings affect me in the best way that someone like me can. But you don’t want that. You don’t want anybody harder to deal with than Anxiety, you don’t want someone as useless and incompetent at I am because you refuse to make an effort to understand me, how I work, how I feel things, because I’m the problem!”

His voice was getting louder, bloody half circles drying as he shoved his finger into his chest, pointing to himself. He could feel salty tears pricking at the corners of his eyes, not making an effort to ignore them anymore.

“And look where that got us!!! Thomas is miserable because Anxiety has him staying up to ungodly hours of the night, Morality has him giving up his free time when his friends are mildly inconvenienced, and Creativity has him destroying his mental health over his self worth! I could help if you all would fucking let me!!! Virgil’s scared for Thomas’s mental health, for Roman’s mental health, for Patton’s mental health because somehow Patton destroying Thomas’s life hurts him, while I’m left here to figure this out on my own, while knowing the people who I care about hate me!!!”

It was a scream at this point, the words beginning to scratch at his throat as tears really began to fall.

“And maybe I’m not good enough!! Maybe I’m not logical enough!! Because what kind of Logic does something like this!?!?”

Logan yanked up his sleeve, tearing bandages off of numerous cut marks, sweat hitting them as their dried blood glittered underneath the light. Patton made a move to approach him, but Logan let out a sound between a hiss and a scream which scared him away well enough.

“Maybe I am defective!! I’m not GOOD enough for you, I’m not good enough for THOMAS!!! I’m USELESS, I’m-”

He cut himself off by biting down hard on his right arm, teeth breaking the skin until blood leaked out. He yanked up his other sleeve, using his nails to dig past the skin on his left arm, leaving four long, thin streaks of blood.

“Logan, stop. ”

Virgil moved forward, worry and fear showing behind his eyes. Logan just missed hitting him, using a swatting motion to get him away.

“Logan, please, we can help-”

“DIDN’T I TELL YOU TO SHUT UP?!?!” Logan’s death glare darted to Roman.

He inhaled sharply, face softening to worry as he saw the looks of fear on his friend’s faces. He took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry. I have no desire to hurt any of you. You are still my friends, so the only person I will be hurting is myself.

“I’m just… so tired. So fucking tired of being ignored, and maybe you all are right. Maybe I deserve this. The blood, the pain, the absolute misery. Maybe I need to shut up, maybe I need to never say a single irritating, useless fact ever again. Maybe I need to hurt myself. Maybe I need to let Thomas make the decision to get rid of me. Maybe I deserve all of this! Maybe you guys should hate me, despise me, never give a single shit about what I say! Maybe I should fucking die, let you use me as an outlet for your anger, each of you using your own method of torture! Maybe I shouldn’t hate any of you, just hate myself for being such a useless piece of shit!!!”

He was sobbing now. Hard, painful sobs wracking his body as what he believed the ultimate feeling of misery must be. He pulled his glasses shakily off his face with his right hand, using both hands to keep them steady.

“Well… if I’m not gonna be Logic anymore, guess I won’t need these. ”

He snapped them in half, ice lacing his voice. He dropped them to the floor, reveling in the crack that came as he shattered them with his foot.

“Lo…” Patton’s voice was quiet and scared, terrified for his friend.

“I wanna die,” Logan muttered, voice wobbly and throat hurting. He took his tie in his hand tentatively before getting a firmer grip on it.

“I wanna DIE!” he screamed, ripping the tie from his neck. The back of his neck hurt from the force, his hands hurt from the grip, his arms hurt from the cuts and biting and scratching, his chest hurt from the crying, his head hurt from the crying, his legs hurt from more cuts, his throat hurt from screaming, his mind hurt so much from his stupid, stupid emotions.

He was hurting. All the time.

“Wait, wait, Logan, no, don’t leave-”

He sunk out before Virgil could finish his sentence, setting off through the corridors quickly. Surely there would be something in the Imagination, maybe a tall building, a deep lake, a ravenous monster-

He was stopped in his tracks in the Dark Side’s living room by a strong arm, the world too blurry for him to make out obstacles in his path without his glasses. The arms- which he recognized as Remus’s due to the soft amount of fat on them- tightened around his middle as he struggled to get free, mostly just succeeding in sinking into the Dark Side’s warmth.

“Re- let- Re-”

He wasn’t able to voice much more than that due to the state of his throat. He gave up, letting himself go limp in Remus’s arms as he continued sobbing, the pain in his throat reignited with every one. He barely registered being picked up and carried through the halls, processing nothing but Remus, knowing nothing but hold on, hold on.

He was dropped onto something soft, sobs receding into whimpers. His eyes were shut, it wasn’t like there was really any point in opening them without his glasses. He felt a pang in his heart at the memory of his ripped tie falling to the floor, the blurry figure of his shattered glasses already on the ground. A new round of painful sobs wracked his body at the thought.

Warm hands surrounded his body in a thick blanket, Remus wrapping it around both of them. Logan had nearly forgotten what physical contact was like, the warmth and the burning bleeding comfort into him. Remus’s arms squished around his soft belly, holding him close and tight.

He was still angry. At himself, at the others, even at Remus. But he couldn’t bring himself to give an ounce of care as he sunk into the much needed hug.

Taglist: @bluerosesbleedred @mxxangel

#logan sanders #logan angst #intrulogical #platonic intrulogical #patton sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #remus sanders #ts logan #ts patton #ts virgil #ts roman #ts remus #ts fic #sanders sides fic #grays fics

[thequibblah]

20 questions for writers

ty for the tag !!! @maraudersftw

How many works do you have on AO3?

12!

What’s your total AO3 word count?

[weak laughter] 660,346

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

on ao3, just HP but in my life i’ve done more — i have no idea where they are currently floating on the internet lol

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

1. come together

They would fall in love eventually — but we would be remiss in ignoring the hiccups along the way. Canon multichap. Rating: T

2. wild things run fast

James Potter returns to England — and British Quidditch — after a four-year stint in Italy, desperate not to let down his childhood team. A chance meeting is about to make his rookie season a good deal more complicated. AU, twoshot (with more to come!) Rating: E

3. even just to reach is a triumph

He scoffs. “Not a single one of my mates is a pretty girl.” Then he blinks, like he didn’t mean to say it. She wants to laugh at the comical oh-shit look on his face, even as something warm and light bubbles up inside her. “You needn’t look so afraid,” she tells him. “I have been told I’m pretty before.”

AU oneshot for Summer of Jily prompt #5: stargazing + "I've got plenty of affection / I'd be glad to show you sometime." Rating: E

4. ‘tis the fucking season

Six-year absences. Yearly photograph burnings (figuratively). Low-cut tops. Two nosebleeds. Little red notebooks. The Past, with a capital P. The desire to pour your heart out to strangers (maybe pathologically). The desire to do unspeakably bad things to one James Potter. These are the ingredients that make up Lily Evans's holiday season.

Shelby the cabbie is in for a fucking ride. Modern, second chance AU. Rating: M

5. what we do in secret

She doesn’t care what other people think James does or doesn’t feel for her. She doesn’t care to hear it. She’s only ever cared about the truth: what he feels. How he tells her. How he shows her.

Oneshot for Summer of Jily prompt #7: ice cream + "I don’t want anybody else touching you like I do." Rating: M

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

i like.... CANNOT have my ao3 inbox anything above 0 so yes, absolutely, all the time. but also because i just feel so AAAA whenever someone comments and i have to yell right back at them!

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

part of me 😬

What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

basically all of my oneshots are fluff but what we do in secret or blink three times are probably the sweetest.

Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you’ve written?

i never have but honestly i could, if the idea struck!

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

lol no but i wish someone would try someday, it would be so cathartic to vent about

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

considering the ratings on nearly ALL those highest-kudos fics up there... yeah i’d say i do. also LOL at “what kind” i... would say that a hallmark of my smut is banter!

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

no, and again, try me LOLLLL

Have you ever had a fic translated?

ooooh no but this would be so cool!

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

no! but ....

What’s your all time favorite ship?

well u know

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

basically everything that starts out as a new seedling of an idea feels like this LOL and i’m going to echo claudia and say i don’t want to give away the plot bunnies i’m throwing around

What are your writing strengths?

dialogue, worldbuilding, narrative voice

What are your writing weaknesses?

i am known to bite off more than i can chew which i knoooow sounds like some dumbass “oh hahaha i’m just suchhh a hard worker that’s my biggest flaw in the workplace” bullshit but i swear it is a real learned skill to slow down and untangle the scope of an idea

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

i think i did this like once in a oneshot and it was school of google translate speaking but uhhh i don’t have thoughts haha do what you like

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

this one!

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

well come together did get me back into writing fic, but i will say probably wild things run fast — i am pretty proud of both the setting detail and the voice there, and it was my first time writing fic with a first-person narrator, which i normally HATE. i think i stuck the landing :)

Tagging: @emeralddoeadeer @jilyss @adenei @cesays @startanewdream !

#i should have a tag for things im tagged in

[werezmastarbucks]

amalfi

honeymoon masterlist

word count: 1751

They were probably going out of their minds with worry out there. Even Damon must have already started feeling guilty. God knows what that monster Kai Parker could do with you in the prison world, where he had no other thing to play with, but you.

The sea air was sweet and salty, warm, and your lungs were breathing slowly for you, as you took deep pockets of it through your nose. You knew you couldn’t get healthier even if you spent the whole time at Mar Tirreno. It was rather frustrating that all the time you spent in the sun, warming up and bathing in the lovely May rays, you wouldn’t change a bit because your whole organism was on the loop, too. 

You were going through the CDs again. There were very clear, understandable rules in this world: for instance, never run out of music. You couldn’t function without music. It soothed Kai well, and it made driving everywhere easier. He wasn’t joking when he said he wouldn’t get behind the wheel unless there was a dire need. For that, he cooked.

He cooked so well. All the dishes you didn’t know the names of, he was eager to show off his talent of many years of training. He made food so good you wondered how a heartless person is capable of putting so much soul into it. He even taught you how to cook something, which was a big achievement. 

“Trash. Trash. Trash”, you chanted to yourself, throwing them out of the window. It was such a satisfying feeling to throw something out of the window of a car, even when you weren’t moving. You had to remind yourself though, that, once you get out, it would be littering. Here, nobody gave a shit. The planet didn’t give a shit. It did not acknowledge your presence, it wasn’t aware of you two quietly moving around its surface. It was hybernating. 

Kai was pondering on something, standing on the edge of the cliff. The sights here were beyond words. All the way to the horizon line, the light turquoise sea was calm and looked like warm lemonade. The sky was matching color, and the bright green trees shuffled nonchalantly in the lightest breeze that filled your skin and lungs. 

You’ve been arguing a little, about this and that, adjusting. The Florence fiasco left you feeling a little helpless (Kai raided the local antique library and found a spell that supposedly was used earlier for escaping from places such as this one; you’ve tried it; it didn’t work. Apparently, Bennett blood was still needed), and he wasn’t very supportive. Kai grew lazy and delighted with life like a fat cat; he didn’t even pretend anymore to be stressed out about being here. He was playing his own game of wearing you out into sleeping with him. Ever since you got here, you haven’t even kissed a single time, the shock of change, and the fact of being locked away and all. There was a certain moment when you realized you’re unable to think about romance, because you’re hybernating, too. You were searching for the way out, and pushing Kai to do the same. Although he slept with you every night, and you got quite used to him lying next to you, the unmistakable comforting heat of his body lulling you into sleep, you felt like you wanted to freeze in that moment. You felt like you were restricted by something. 

“It’s your birthday, isn’t it?” you suddenly realized, and turned to him. Your mouth formed an O. “Oh my god, it’s your birthday every day”.

Kai looked at you with the same look he gave you every time he thought you were being slow. Given his hyperactivity, and his sharp psychopathic mind never resting a bitching second, anybody would seem a little slow to him.

“I’m an eternal birthday boy”, he confirmed, a little sleepily, “it’s high time you start treating me accordingly”.

“What the fuck’s that supposed to mean?” you asked, starting the car. 

“You know it’s only us here, right? There’s no one to see you, or stop you, to judge you”, he said, cryptic as hell. The road was smooth, the asphalt glistened with heat, gliding car feeling its wheels like they were blades on ice. You went bananas and carjacked a 911 Carrera S for this place. This whole Italian vibe made you feel like you were incredibly rich. Life was sweet like shave ice with strawberry syrop soaking it through. You still waited for the other shoe to drop... looking at Kai, sometimes you thought, what if it never does? He’s crazy. His world is crazy. What if it’s not supposed to be bad here with him?

“I’m aware of that”, you replied.

“You don’t have to pretend”, Kai concluded, “you can admit whatever you feel for me. Sooner or later you’ll end up on my dick anyway. We like each other, it’s a fact”.

Your hands squeezed the wheel as you stared in front of you. Kai had a point. There was mutual attraction. 

There was mutual need, too.

“Maybe I do have to pretend”.

“What for?”

He tried to seem dispassionate, but you knew he was impatient. Kai Parker was a very impatient person. If he got to the car first, he’d always scream to make you move quicker. He knew there was no hurry whatsoever, but he hated to wait. He yelled at stoves. He cursed at traffic lights even though you obviously ignored them all. Just the sight of a red light pissed him off. 

Now, he had to be patient to get to the third base. He was somewhat cunning about it; his night embrace was a little more than just a cuddle. 

“We’re here less than a month. Who knows how long more it’s going to be? I mean, we can’t get bored at once, you know?”

Kaik blinked, processing.

“Right, princess. You want entertainment?”

You didn’t like the tone of that.

Perhaps the way he said it scared you enough to give you a nightmare.

You dreamt you walked down your street in Mystic Falls. It was so atypically dark your skin crawled. You didn’t hear them, but you could feel vampires were around you. They were not usual vampires, like Damon and Stefan - human, friendly, diverse and nice looking. They were monsters from 80s fantasy filled horrors, with long saliva dripping fangs, and, most importantly, demonic. An old feeling of supernatural presence, which startled you at night when Kai attempted to save you by killing you, once again made you freeze with horror. 

You walked faster, trying to get away, and praying for light. Not a single street light was on, you couldn’t even see it. The blackness was thick and absolute, and you knew you’d be attacked any second. Fear was physical in this one, stinging you, making it hard to move your feet. You tried running and stumbled upon something, falling on hard ground. Before you managed to get up, you felt somebody leaning over you, breathing down the back of your head. You were trapped. 

You woke up and stared into the darkness, expecting a painful bite. You’ve been bitten by vampires before. It was very painful, but you couldn’t imagine what it would feel like this time.

Trying to figure out where you are, just like always, you were afraid to move an inch not to produce a sound. Slowly, you moved your fingers, then your shoulders, and started feeling the weight of the blanket on you. You heard the sea. You exhaled through your nose and rolled on your back to see the empty bed. 

“Kai?” you whispered. You sat up and grouped, holding onto your knees. It’s always like that with nightmares; they go, and you stay in them. Brain knows the room is empty, but the mind is still captivated. You still expect them to jump out of the closet. And of all people, Kai Parker must be the one to save you. Why?

“Kai!” you called, irritated. Why the fuck, of all nights he pushes you almost off the bed with his invasive hugs, he’s not there exactly tonight, when you need human warmth to get your head straight. 

“KAI!”

The door opened slowly. He was standing in complete darkness, wide awake.

“What is it?”

You were silent for some time. Admitting your vulnerability to him would be about the last threshold. You’d have to completely love each other after this. You wouldn’t be able to let him go. It all now depended on how he’d react. 

“I had a nightmare”.

He walked towards the bed slowly, sat down and offered his shoulder. He always hugged you in this wide gesture, which he probably saw in a movie. It was a commercial dad hug, wide swing of an arm which then rested around your shoulder. The only times he felt humanly close was when he was clinging on you at night.

He settled on the pillows, bringing you close, and you finally let the air out with relief.

“You still get spooked?” he asked with surprise.

“Yes”.

“What was it about?”

“Vampires”.

He hummed. 

In this night calm, you were close enough to hear something beat in his chest. You asked yourself what curious chain of events made you end up together with this interesting individual. What comes out of it. 

His hand rested on your bare shoulder, fingers drawing uneven circles absently. He seemed a bit distant but he liked touching you. You could still smell your own perfume on his shirt from the day. You got that fragile desire to kiss him, to rub your face on his neck, to be close to him. 

“We’re really completely alone here”, you said.

“Yeah”.

“How did you know Bonnie and Damon came?”

“I felt it, I’m a witch after all”.

“How can you be sure there aren’t any beasts here? Something goes wrong, aliens slither into this dimension. Some chthonic monster. Some ancient spirits. Your own double, or demons. Or something”.

“It’s an empty place, Y/N, I just know it. I have been everywhere around, and I didn’t find anyone. I’d be happy to meet a chthonic monster even. But we are tremendously alone”.

At this moment the hug tightened because you brought him closer. 

“But I like it here with you”, he added, “it’s not that bad. People are boring anyway”.

#kai parker #kai parker imagine #kai parker x reader #vampire diaries #vampire diaries imagine #tvd imagine

[renaerys]

PPG One-Shot: Under the Stars (Brick/Blossom)

Written for the inaugural challenge prompt on PPG Challenge Hub on AO3 for the prompt “things you said under the stars,” hosted by @kiebs, @carriedreamerx, and me. Also functions as a Part 3 to the Shooketh, Not Stirred series. You can read Part 1 and Part 2 here on Tumblr or on my AO3. 

Summary: In which Blossom decides she is definitely girlfriend material, and so does everybody else.

***We are welcoming more submissions for this prompt for the month of July! If you want to participate, please check out the PPG Challenge Hub collection on AO3.***

xxx

Nothing short of witchcraft could have held Buttercup’s 1997 Ford F-Series pickup truck together as it ambled over rocky switchbacks and through dense, Redwood forest to the Vista Lakes campgrounds for the Townsville High Junior and Senior classes’ biannual end-of-semester party. Blossom kept a stranglehold on the passenger door and hissed her displeasure over every dip that lurched the old truck too close to the edge of the road. The drop to the bottom of the mountain was a good thousand feet, a death knell for the Normies riding along with them.

Mitch and Harry, however, did not seem to mind as much.

“Oh shit!” Mitch whooped when Buttercup went over a particularly deep crag in the road and rocked the whole truck.

“Buttercup, please slow down,” Blossom pleaded.

“Don’t you fuckin’ dare,” Mitch said through the sliding window that opened up onto the truck bed, where he and Harry rode with the sleeping bags, food, and extra blankets.

Harry laughed. “We’re cool Blossom, don’t worry.”

“Yeah Blossom, don’t worry,” Buttercup drawled. “Besides, it’s not like a fall from this height would kill us.”

“I’m sure Mitch and Harry feel super reassured to hear you say that,” Blossom said snidely.

“Super duper!” Mitch said. He flashed the rearview mirror a sign of the horns and winked.

Blossom forced herself to ignore his goading and kept her eyes firmly on the road ahead just in case. “I should never have agreed to this.”

“Well, tough shit, Leader Girl. You could’ve gotten a ride with Bubbles earlier if you’d left your Winter Break homework until the last day like everybody else, but noooooooo.”

“Not everybody waits until the last minute to get the homework done, for your information.”

“They totally do.”

“They totally don’t.”

“Do.”

“Don’t—ugh, no, I’m not arguing like this with you.”

Buttercup smirked like she’d won the argument (she definitely did not). “Whatever. We’re basically here and no one’s fallen to their death yet, so you can chill.”

The road emptied out onto a clearing overlooking the side of the mountain. Three deep, blue lakes sat still and tranquil, each surrounded by clusters of gnarled Redwoods and camp sites. A lot of people were already here considering the late hour, and a few campfires blazed bright along the shorelines. The gloaming crept over the horizon, casting the valley below in shadow and the skies in dusky, bleeding streaks of red like spilled wine. High above, blues deepened to blacks, but it was still early for stars.

Buttercup parked off the main campsite and the boys began unloading the truck bed. When they struggled with a cooler crammed full of ice, Blossom lifted it effortlessly and floated it over to join others that had already been packed with cheap beer and grill meat.

“Eyyyy there she is!” Boomer opened his arms and pulled Blossom into his letter jacket for a big hug. “I’m glad you decided to come.”

Blossom returned his hug with a smile. “Me too.”

“I told you she would,” said Bubbles, and she nudged Butch who was busy putting away a plate piled high with four hamburgers. He took one look at Blossom and grinned.

“Hey, Highness,” Butch drawled.

Blossom shot him a withering look. “Hi, Butch.” Ever since she’d beaten him in a not-so-friendly spar while Buttercup was out of commission, he’d mellowed out and taken to nicknaming and weirdly friendly ribbing.

“Comin’ down from that pretty throne to hang with the cool kids, huh?”

He stuffed an entire burger in his mouth, while Blossom threw up a little in hers.

“Shut up, Butch. You sound like a creepy old man.” Buttercup arrived carrying two twenty-four packs of beer that she dropped in Butch’s lap. He caught them with a grunt, and Bubbles caught his plate of uneaten burgers.

“Bitch, you love every glistening inch of this.” Butch stood up shouldering the enormous beer crates like they weighed nothing, because they did.

“I love cold beer, so move your glistening ass.” Buttercup snatched one of his uneaten burgers and stuffed it in her mouth.

Somehow, Buttercup got Butch up and helping, and when Mitch and Harry joined them, it was short work to unload everything from Buttercup’s truck. Blossom rolled out her sleeping bag on the grass amidst all the others, but no one would be sleeping tonight. It was merely a courtesy for the too high or the too passed out.

Around the campsite, Juniors and Seniors lounged with beers and blunts, enjoying their last night together before Winter Break. Among them, Wes had his arm around Kim as he flipped hot dogs on a standing grill and chatted up Mike and Robin. Blossom watched them a moment, debating whether to interrupt the conversation to say hi.

Bubbles slipped her arm around Blossom’s waist and squeezed affectionately. “You look a little lost.”

“No, just hanging out, you know.” She returned the half embrace, and they stood there a moment enjoying the cool night air.

“Hey, Blossom! You wanna sit with us?” Harry called. He and a few others had set up some lawn chairs by the shore and were passing beers.

Bubbles giggled. “You know he likes you,” she said.

“What—He does?!” Blossom sputtered.

“For sure. And, you know, since you’re totally not with anybody else, you could have some fun talking to him.”

“You mean, flirt with him.”

Bubbles was as innocent as a lamb. “I mean, be nice to him. That could be fun, right?”

Blossom had nothing to say to that. She was not, in fact, “with” anybody else. And she had every right to talk to whomever of her friends she wanted, so technically Bubbles had a point, but…

Blossom searched the faces gathered. In the encroaching darkness, it was getting harder to pick out profiles and bright colors to see who was here and who hadn’t yet arrived. “I don’t know.”

But Bubbles was already dragging her over to Harry’s circle and waving back to him. Seated in between Harry on one side and Kim on the other, Blossom was handed a burger and a beer and encouraged to participate in the conversation.

“My folks’re taking me to our cabin in Tahoe to go skiing over the break,” Harry was saying.

“That sounds fun,” Blossom said.

He shrugged. “Yeah, sure, if you count me eating snow every five feet when I can’t stop falling.”

“Come on, I’m sure it won’t be that bad.”

“Oh, yeah? I bet it’d be a cake walk for you, Miss Snow Queen.” Harry grinned, and the corners of his dark eyes crinkled cutely.

“Just because I have ice powers doesn’t make me a Winter sports maven. I’ve never skied in my life.”

“Psh, can’t be that hard, right? You start at the top of the mountain, and you end up at the bottom.”

Blossom bit back a smile. “I mean, I think it’s a little more involved than that.”

Harry laughed and leaned over the armrest closer to her. “Well, consider us both noobs. Anyway, most of the time’s spent hanging out at the cabin drinking hot chocolate anyway, right? Best part.”

Blossom tugged on her long, red ponytail as Harry continued to smile at her. She imagined the scene: a cozy ski lodge surrounded by snow, and a smiling boy content to ignore the blunt their friends were passing just to talk to her some more. She would like that. It would be easy, simple, and soft. Normal.

“Um, you know, I was thinking of inviting a few friends for a weekend. Just, like, a small group, and uh, well, I was wondering…” Harry stumbled in the dark looking for the question he meant to ask.

She could say yes, and she could have fun. With him, with any nice boy, it could be fun. How silly that just a few months ago, she had let herself believe she wasn’t the desirable type just because some mean girls said so. It all seemed so absurd now, and yet Blossom could not bring herself to give Harry the easy, simple, soft “yes” he wanted.

“Oh hey! You can have my seat, I’m grabbing more food,” said Kim on Blossom’s other side.

“Thanks.”

Like a hand to the stove, that voice hit her with a searing demand to be acknowledged. Old habits perhaps, or new ones. He wasn’t one to be ignored, not by her at least. Not these days.

“Brick,” Blossom said, half a question, half a sigh. She pulled back from Harry to look at him properly.

He’d taken Kim’s vacated seat directly next to her and nursed a solo cup of beer. Like her, he was dressed for the December chill in long sleeves, and his trademark red cap sat backwards over his short hair, as always. Red eyes held hers in a look that lingered.

“Blossom.” He spoke her name like a secret.

He was late. Why was he late? It wasn’t like him. She hadn’t seen him since third period yesterday. Was it only yesterday, or years ago?

“Hey, Brick,” Harry said, leaning over so he could see around Blossom. “Butch said you might not make it tonight.”

Blossom worried her lip between her teeth, and Brick took a long sip of beer as he slowly averted his gaze to Harry on her other side. “Here I am.”

“Uh, yeah, so Blossom,” Harry said. “About Tahoe…”

xxx

Blossom tugged on her ponytail as she turned back to Harry. Brick watched her twist her anxious fingers through her hair and narrowed his eyes.

“Hm? Oh, right,” she said.

“Yeah, so like I was saying, my parents’ cabin has a few extra bedrooms, so we could make a whole weekend out of it. Skiing, hot chocolate, the works. It’d be cool if you came. What do you say?”

“You throwing a rager?” Brick interrupted.

Harry leaned forward to see Brick again like he’d forgotten he was sitting there at all. “Nah man, just a couple friends for a weekend trip.”

“Cool. Who’s going?”

“Uh, I mean, I don’t have a list or anything. Sorta just came up with it now, so…”

“So you still have space. Count me in,” Brick said.

Blossom and Harry both looked at him like he’d suggested they all go jump in the lake.

“You want to go skiing in Tahoe?” Blossom asked.

Brick shrugged. “Sure, if it means a weekend away from my idiot brothers. Thanks for the invite, Harry.”

Harry gaped, and Blossom ceased pulling at her ponytail to stare at Brick.

“I mean,” Harry said, and nodded super obviously towards Blossom while she wasn’t looking.

“How many others could we invite?” Blossom asked. “If it’s okay with your parents, I mean.”

Harry looked at Blossom, and then he looked at Brick, who sipped his beer like the oblivious, teenaged simpleton he one hundred percent was not. Giving up, Harry sighed and rubbed a hand over his buzz cut. “There’s room for two more if you’re both going to be there.”

Blossom lit up. “How about Wes and Kim? Or Pablo and Hanout?”

Harry sat back in his chair and nursed his beer. “Yeah, fine, whatever you want.”

She was smiling now.

“Wes and Kim,” Brick said. “Pablo snores like a motherfucker.”

“That’s true,” Harry said forlornly.

“Well, either way,” Blossom said, clearly torn between telling them both off and the desire to finalize plans.

Brick got up. “Let us know what weekend. I’m free whenever.”

Pleasantly yet unsurprisingly, Blossom got up too. “Me too. Thanks Harry, this’ll be fun.” She smiled genuinely at him, and he returned it.

“Yeah, the best,” Harry said dejectedly.

Blossom followed Brick as he led her away from the main campsite along the shoreline in the direction of the drop-off.

“Okay, what was that?” she asked when they were away from the roar of the music and the campfires.

“What was what?” Brick asked. It was dark now, and the farther they wandered from the center of the party, the harder it was to see the shoreline as his eyes adjusted.

“You invited yourself to Harry’s. Are you even that close?”

He paused and looked at her. “Are you?”

Blossom clutched the ends of her jacket as she blinked up at him. “We’re friends,” she hedged. “He’s a nice guy.”

Brick smirked. “Uh-huh. Real nice.”

“What does that mean?”

“You tell me. Am I intruding?”

Blossom studied him through the gloom. She was close enough that he could smell her perfume, silken and subtle. “No,” she said at length. “There’s nothing to intrude on.”

He watched her walk along ahead of him, her long ponytail a bloody lash under the cover of night. He chucked his beer and went after her.

“This way,” he said, breaking from the shore and heading into the trees.

“Where are we going?” Blossom drew close. “It’s so dark tonight.”

“I think it’s a new moon. Here.” Brick found her hand so they wouldn’t get separated in the pitch black of the canopy.

Blossom’s hand was cool in his, and she slipped the other one around his arm as he walked deeper into the forest. The walk wasn’t far, and soon the trees thinned as they emerged onto the shore of the lake nearest to the precipice overlooking the valley below. Brick had set up his sleeping bag in the grass far away from the rabble where he could have the best view undisturbed.

“Wow.” Blossom approached the black waters, so still they reflected the night sky back flawlessly. Flurries of stars as far as the eye could see scattered above and below like snowflakes frozen in flight. The Milky Way ripped through the firmament, bleeding more stars clustered so closely together they glimmered ice-bright. “I feel like I just stepped into another world.”

Brick jammed his hands in his jeans pockets and drew up next to her. “Consequence of being away from all the city lights for a change.”

“Mm.”

They lapsed into silence for a bit as they watched the nightscape unfold above and upon the water. Brick’s eyes fully adjusted to the lambent starlight, but it was a cold light, and he wore only a thin, red hoodie to stave off the chill. Blossom noticed him shuffle beside her.

“Do you want my jacket?” she teased.

“Ha ha,” Brick groused. But it was fucking cold out here, now that she mentioned it. He had always been particularly sensitive to it in a way she wasn’t. “My sleeping bag should do the trick.”

They retreated to his makeshift camp, where Brick shimmied into his sleeping bag and Blossom sat on the mat next to him, perfectly at ease in the cold. She leaned back on her hands to admire the stars, content like she could watch them all night. Their gossamer light draped her like a veil, softening her edges and igniting her colors. Brick had the sudden urge to touch her, to prove she was no pearlescent dream, that the cold cornering him now was hers and not just the darkness.

“Why were you late tonight?” she asked out of the blue.

Brick lay back on the mat and looked up at the jeweled sky. “Finished the homework.”

Her laugh was as soft as the starlight, and she grinned at him over her shoulder. “Me too.”

Obviously. He wouldn’t put it past her. It didn’t matter, only, he didn’t want to have one more thing to worry about over the break while also spending way more time than usual around his brothers with nothing to keep their focus for eight hours of the day. But the knowledge seemed to please her, which was just as well.

“I told you I was coming tonight,” he said.

And yet, Boomer had blown up his phone texting him all evening wondering where the hell he was, why wasn’t he here yet, and didn’t he realize people were waiting for him? The last text was one he received when he’d touched down at the edge of the campsite and it was already dark: a candid picture of Blossom talking with Harry by a campfire, and she looked happy. Brick had not responded to it or to any of the other annoying texts. Kim had been more than happy to give him her chair the minute she saw him approaching.

“Here you are,” Blossom said, hushed and half-lidded.

Here we are.

Brick curled an arm under his head. “View’s better from down here.”

She worried her lip—did she even realize she did that? That he noticed?—but ultimately lay down next to him on the mat. “Oh, wow…”

The starscape shimmered far and above, and Brick began to pick out patterns in the cosmos. “There, Cassiopeia.” He pointed to a cluster of stars.

“You know your constellations?” she asked.

“A few.”

He could practically feel the aura of challenge she exuded like a pheromone.

“All right. Perseus,” she said.

Brick pointed to a long line of stars near Cassiopeia. “Right next to Andromeda.”

“That was a freebie to test the waters.”

Brick chuckled. “Sure.”

“Okay Star Lord, show me Gemini.”

Brick swept his hand south and west of Perseus to a pair of star lines facing each other. “A couple of gossipy bitches.”

She shoved him playfully, and he caught her with his free arm, pulling her close. “You’re terrible.”

“I’m right. Next?”

“Let’s see… How about Leo?”

With one arm anchoring her to his side, Brick traced the patterns she called out with the other. Dead heroes and their monsters rose from glittering graves with every sweep of his fingers and kept them company in the dark.

She tugged at his sleeve as he searched for the elusive Pyxis constellation. “Hey, we should probably get back to the party.”

Brick let his hand drop. “Why?”

“Because we’ll be missed, obviously.”

He chuckled. “I bet someone’s missing you.”

Blossom rolled onto her side to face him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing.”

“It doesn’t sound like nothing.”

He’d taken her to breakfast. It wasn’t a date; he hadn’t technically asked, and she only came because she was hungry and didn’t want to go home yet. It was the first time he’d ever seen her cry—no, sob because of what some dumb girls said to her at a party. Just the normal high school bullshit, and she’d fallen apart. Breakfast was the fucking least he could do after the ignominy of seeing her like that. It just turned out that it wasn’t the last.

Too many breakfasts and long hours spent prepping for finals turned into expectation, expectation turned into anticipation, and anticipation became the new normal. They weren’t together no matter what rumors Bubbles and Robin started and stopped. They weren’t not together either, considering they usually were, in fact, together. It had only been a few months since she’d handed Butch his balls wrapped up in a pretty pink bow and left Brick speechless to behold her, a few months since he’d found her insecure and vulnerable on that rooftop and called her beautiful because she was, holy fuck she was, and so much more.

Blossom was old wounds that should have healed long ago, that he should never have opened again, but she was still so new and he didn’t know, he didn’t know.

She slipped her hand over the cover of his sleeping bag and curled her fingers in his shirt. “Brick,” she said in a voice full of galaxies and longing.

He’d always liked the sound of his own name, after all.

When he kissed her, she tasted like starlight, cold fire. He pulled her closer, kissed her deeper, a step into the unknown, but the unknown was where she was and she was everything. Her breath hitched and she opened for him, just like that day on the rooftop, but he didn’t look away this time and she kissed him back like it had been her idea all along. Chemical X crackled on their flushed skin as he rolled onto his back and brought her with him, her weight on his chest a warmth and a fantasy.

Blossom’s long bangs fanned his cheeks as she hovered above him and he held on to her. He dreamed she might fall back into the sea of stars and he would dive in after her should he let her go. He didn’t let her go.

“I don’t actually want to go to Tahoe,” Brick said.

She laughed, light as a moonbeam. “Neither do I.”

He threaded his fingers through her hair, pulled her down again. “Good.”

She smiled into the kiss and wrapped her arms around him.

xxx

No one took much notice when Blossom and Brick popped up at the campsite after a protracted absence. No one except Bubbles, who passed Butch her perfectly roasted marshmallow, which he wolfed down right off the stick without waiting for it to cool. She discreetly got out her phone and snapped a few pictures of Blossom leading Brick by the hand to a couple empty chairs near Wes and Kim. When Brick leaned back in his chair and put his arm around the back of Blossom’s so she could lean into him, Bubbles had to work very hard not to squeal.

Clearly, Boomer sending Brick that picture of Harry chatting up Blossom had had the intended outcome.

She fired off twenty pictures to Robin.

[Bubbles: Yearbook?? 👀]

Robin, who was on the other side of the large campfire with Buttercup, Julie, Mitch, and the Floyjoydson twins, spat out her beer when she saw the pictures.

Bubbles snickered to herself.

“What’re you so happy about?” Butch said halfway through a game of Chubby Bunny.

Bubbles poked his mallow-stuffed cheek and winked. “It’s a secret.”

He rolled his eyes and stuffed another marshmallow in his mouth. “Laaaaame.”

Bubbles stole another glance at Blossom and Brick. She was laughing at something Kim had said, and he turned to whisper something to her. Bubbles bit her lip to hide her smile.

“But not for long,” she sang to herself.

Boomer came up behind Blossom and Brick and threw his arms around them both, laughing and pulling them close. Brick didn’t even try to push him off.

Not for long at all.

xxx

Thanks for reading! If you enjoy my writing and are looking for more PPG/RRB content from me, please check out my ongoing multi-chapter over on AO3 called Beyond This Morning. 😊

#Blossick #Reds #Blossom #Brick #Bubbles #Buttercup #Butch #Boomer #Powerpuff Girls #Powerpuff Girls fanfiction #PPG #February Fic Prompts #ppg shook

[lovemesomesurveys]

Do you weigh less than 130 pounds? Yeah, quite a bit less.

Do you straighten your hair every day? No. I haven’t straightened my hair in years.

What kind of car do you drive? I don’t drive.

What’s your favorite kind of ice cream? Strawberry, mint chocolate chip, birthday cake, and cookies and cream are good. I haven’t had ice cream in quite awhile, though. 

Do you wear earrings daily? No. It’s been awhile since I’ve worn earrings as well. 

Do you prefer purple or green grapes? Green.

When’s the last time you got your eyebrows waxed? I only got them waxed once and I was like 14.

Have you ever been in a tanning bed? No. Talk about claustrophobia. And I have no desire to do so anyway. 

Did your last kiss mean anything to you? Yeah.

How’s your hair right now? It’s up in its usual messy bun.

Have you ever wanted to go to Australia? I would love to.

What’s your favorite fast food restaurant? I’m not as into fast food as I used to be, but the ones I go to when I do have it are Chick-fil-A, Carl’s Jr, McDonald’s, and Jack in the Box.

When’s the last time you washed your hands? A few hours ago.

Who were you with the last time you were drunk and where were you? I was with a group of friends in a hotel room I rented for my birthday back in 2013.

What is one thing within the last year that if it had gone differently you feel might have changed things now? If I had done some things I should have been doing and managing things better regarding some of my health related issues.

What is something that you associate with summer? The miserable heat.

Have you ever ran around outside completely naked? Uh, no. Absolutely not.

When you’re hungry, does your stomach hurt? Sometimes. My body is super dramatic like that. I’ll feel weak sometimes and it’s like omg stop acting like you haven’t ate in days.

Would you say that you have a nice smile? No.

Have you ever walked in on your parents doing something kinky? Ahhhh, no.

Do you use mouthwash? No.

Do you eat anything out of a box? Yeah.

When’s the last time the fire alarm in your house went off? It’s never gone off. The only time it has made noise is when the batteries need to be replaced.

Can you be trusted with secrets? Yes.

Pill to make you braver or one to make you smarter? Braver. I’d be able to get some things taken care of that I’ve put off because I’m anxious and scared.

Are you in a hurry to grow up? I am grown up at 31 I guess, but I’m in no hurry to get older. I was never in any hurry.

When was the last time you used a bar of soap? Yesterday when I showered.

Do you keep notes, drawings or letters that people give you? Yes. I’m big on that.

Have you ever been locked in a car with a bf/gf? No. How would we be locked in the car?

Have you had a bf/gf that you never kissed? No. 

How many true best friends are present in your life? No friends, but I have my family.

Do you currently have a significant other? Nope.

Do your parents approve of the people you hang out with? They never had an issue with any of my friends.

Would you be able to stand being in the same room as someone you hate? I don’t hate anyone, so.

Have you ever lost a close friend? Yes.

Think of your current or last bf/gf. Do you/did you love them? I did.

Has anybody criticized the way your significant other looked like? I’m single, but no one said anything about the way my exes looked.

Have you ever stayed up late talking to a bf/gf on the phone or online? Yes.

Do your friends like the people you date? Do their friends like you? They had an issue with Joseph because they saw what I didn’t want to see, which was that he was using and playing me and wasn’t treating me right. I haven’t had an issue with their friends.

Do your parents let you date, or do you sneak around? I’m 31 years old. I can’t blame my non-existent dating life on that haha.

Have you ever felt backstabbed by a close friend? Yes.

Do you have any handshakes with anybody? No.

Do you feel you can rely on anybody to always be there for you? I know my family will always be there.

Have you ever regretted ignoring anybody? I’ve pushed people away and messed up good things. :/

What has been the stupidest reason someone has broken up with you? Joseph just didn’t want to commit. He wanted me when it was convenient and when he felt like it.

Have you ever kissed someone in their bedroom, or in yours? No.

Has a friend of yours ever confessed their love to you? No.

Have you gone out with someone, then ruined the friendship you had before? My first boyfriend and I were good friends before we started dating and yeah it definitely changed things after.

Can you trust any of your friends at full capacity? No friends. I trust my family, though.

Is the word 'love' even in your vocabulary? Yes.

Who do you think is more confusing, males or females? People are confusing.

Have you written or drawn anything for somebody else? No.

Do you have any pictures of yourself with a bf/gf? I have photos of myself and my exes.

Do your friends know how to make you smile in tough times? My family does. My doggo always can.

Has anybody said they loved you, but you didn't love them back? Yes.

Is there anyone you don't like that always seems to be everywhere you are? No.

Is there anyone you care about more than you care for yourself? My family.

What/who do you take the most pictures of? My doggo.

How long did you spend in a vehicle today? I’m not going anywhere today. 

When you make a mess are you more likely to clean it up right away, or do you get to it later? I clean it up right away.

Who do you blame for your bad mood today? I’m just annoyed because yesterday I slept until 6PM and today I’ve hardly slept at all, I kept getting up like every hour. It’s 10AM now and I first fell asleep around 6, so yeah not much sleep going on. :/

By what age would you like to be married? I don’t plan on getting married.

What are you looking forward to right now? Nothing at this moment.

Do you have any split ends? Yes.

Is there a book you're currently reading? Yeah, I’m finishing up this book called, “Anything for You” by Marissa Finch.

Did you ever want to be a fashion designer? No.

When was the last time you went to the dentist? It’s been awhile. :/

The last time you cried, what was wrong? Oh ya know, life.

Do you sleep with a fan on? Yes, even now in the winter.

What's the last video game you played? Animal Crossing: New Horizons. 

What do you usually drink at meals? Coffee or water.

Are you going to a library tomorrow? No.

Do you sleep better during thunderstorms? No, but I do enjoy them.

Has anyone pissed you off based on their actions recently? Yes.

What language did you take up in high school? I took Spanish all 4 years.

You’re single, correct? Yep.

Is the last person you texted good looking? My mom is beautiful. 

At this very moment, what exactly are you doing? Besides the obvious I’m listening to an ASMR video.

How do you feel about girls smoking? I don’t care what gender is doing it, I personally don’t like it.

Have you ever been in a perfect relationship? No. Perfect relationships don’t exist.

Is the person you last texted in a relationship? Yeah, my mom is with my dad.

Do you think someone is thinking about you right now? Nope.

Do you like “good morning” texts? I don’t get those.

Last movie you watched? Wonder Woman 1984.

Name something you like about winter: I love Christmastime, the weather, the clothes, the colors, the smells, the coziness...all of it.

What’s your favorite color? Pastels, rose gold, sea foam green, coral, and yellow.

Would you rather be called hun or baby? I don’t really care for either one.

Is there someone that you miss being close with? Yes.

Have you ever fallen asleep in someone’s arms? When I was little.

Does anyone completely understand you? I don’t think completely. I certainly don’t completely understand myself.

In the last 12 months can you say you truly cared about someone? My family.

You were single last month, why? Uhh, because I’m not interested in or talking to anyone in that way. Like, there’s literally no one right now. No one is interested in me either.

Would you rather get 1, 12, or 24 roses? I’d appreciate any amount.

What is something you like to do when you’re down? Cry and one of my go-to activities I do normally as a distraction.

Do you believe teenagers can fall in love? Sure.

Have you ever received a text message that made you cry? Yes.

Did you enjoy your summer? Last summer was even worse because I wasn’t able to go to the beach, which is the only thing I like about summer.

When you watch movies at home, do you like the lights on or off? I tend to just keep ‘em on.

Do you think relationships are even worth it? Yes.

Is any part of you sad at all? All of me.

Do you like your first name? Sure.

What’s most stressing right now? Health and life stuff.

What are you listening to currently? An ASMR video.

Have you done anything embarrassing lately? Not recently.

Dark hair or light hair in the opposite sex? Whichever.

Do you judge people you don’t know? Not to the point that I don't want to get to know them, but yeah. <<< That’s a good way of putting it. Like, I think we all judge people to some extent and that’s normal and not always a bad thing, but some people are judgmental people and they make up their own assumptions and opinions without getting to know a person. They have their mind made up and it stops them from getting to know someone. 

Would you date a boy/girl if you knew they were capable of cheating on you? I guess anyone is capable of doing so, so it’s something that could possibly happen in any relationship. However, if I knew someone had in fact cheated before or was known for that, then no I would not. Even if they had cheated once it would be something I’d worry about happening to me.

Did you sleep alone last night? I always do.

If you could have one thing right now what would it be? I’m kinda hungry, but meh.

Would you rather have ten kids, or none? None, hands down. I don’t even want one kid, let alone TEN.

Do you tell your mom or dad everything? I tell my mom a lot.

Does it matter to you if your boyfriend or girlfriend smokes? It would absolutely matter to me if they smoked cigarettes.

Have you ever been hurt by someone you never thought would hurt you? Yes.

Do you have siblings? I have two brothers.

#personal #text #survey #surveys #long survey

[skzm7]

MOBEIUS

BEEZLEBUB’S PURPLE KISS

BUBBLED UP TO SCAR

ITCHIN’ WITH SOMEONE’S SIN

FIRED UP IMPLODING FIST

FEELIN’ FEINT K.O.’ED

SCARLET STAMPED CRAZY! KID

USELESS SHADOW BOXING WALL IS NUMB

JAB HOOK UPPERCUT WHO?

THERE’S A HELTER SKELTER IN SKY CITY

COUNTDOWN TIL IT CLICKS KID

YOU GOT A BAD CASE OF 

WACKO BONKERS LOOPY!

TEN NINE EIGHT

HEY SEVEN

HEYSIX 

WAKE UP FIVE 

COME BACK TO EARTH

PUT ON FOUR YOUR 

THINKING CAP THREE AND GLOVES

ROUND 2 FIGHT!

WIPE OFF THAT STICK

GET YOUR BOTTLE OF LIGHTNING

THROW IT TO THE GROUND

CRACK IT OPEN

YOU’RE TOO BRILLIANT TO BE KEPT IN

LET THE LIONS ROAR LOOSE

FILL UP THE STADIUM

THE MAN WITHIN

DOESN’T GET OUT YOUR ILL

BOX THE OLD WOUNDS DREAMING

AND GET REAL

FALLOUT OF MEMORIES

ROOTED TO FEELINGS

CHAINSAW! HAHAHA

I‘M YOUR SECOND COMING!

SLIDE ON MY LIPS

ENJOY LIKE MANY

THE GRAND CHESSBOARD

OF EBONY AND IVORY

IT’S IN YOUR NATURE

TO GIVE YOURSELF IN

I THINK YOUR SMILE 

HAS TOO MANY TEETH 

FOR A SALESMAN

DING DING ROUND

3, MIND IS MESSY

BODY SO ORPHAN THIN

YOU CAN SEE THE HEARTBREAK 

THROUGH THE SKIN

I CAN DO THIS SO WHY AM I TRIPPING?

BANANA SLIP HEAD SPLITTING

BRAIN FREEZE NO ICE CREAM

BUSY B’S SHADOW BECKONS ME DIVE IN

I WRITHE I WRESTLE I CAVE IN

I KNOW BETTER BUT I’M TOO BUSY DYING

NO ONE SEES MY HEAD’S PURPLE FIRE

DROWNING UNDER THE SURFACE

THESE CANNOT BE MY LAST WORDS

THESE CANNOT BE MY LAST!?

THIS CANNOT BE MY LAST CHANCE

THIS CANNOT BE MY LAST

GASP!

ENTER YOUR UTOPIA

THROUGH THIS GLASS OF MIND

KALEIDOSCOPE VISUAL

TAKE THE CLOCK WITH YOU

SIT ON MY LAP GOOD BOY!

SANTA’S LIST IS INSTANT HERE

YOU’RE A NEW BORN PHENOMENON

NO CREDIT CARD HISTORY

NO RESPONSIBILITY

NO RISK IN THIS

LABYRINTH OF VISIONARY

I’LL HOLD YOUR HAND

I’LL BE YOUR CANARY

FORGET BEING A VICTIM OF CONSCIENCE

WHEN RELIVING YOUR PAST IS SO

M MM MMM DEEEELICIOUS!

AND YOUR LOVED ONES ON EARTH

DON’T NEED YOU ANYWAY

THIS IS WHERE YOU ALWAYS WIN

HERE’S A SICKLE

PLAY GOLF WITH YOUR ENEMIES HEADS

IT’LL TICKLE

HEY WHERE AM I WHAT THE

HELL AM I DOING?

GOING FOR A BIRDIE

CAN ANYBODY HEAR ME?

IN THIS BERMUDA TRIANGLE ZOO

HOURS AND SENSES WHAT DID I DO?

MY COMPASS TURNED INTO A U

DIDN’T REALISE I WAS SO BAD

MAD REVENGE NEVER ENDS

NOW I GOT A CLUE HOW IT STARTED

BECAUSE YOU WERE A COWARD

AND YOU DIDN’T HAVE A CHOICE

HERE YOU HAVE A VOICE

NO! YOU’RE THE PLACEBO EFFECT GONE WRONG

THOUGHT IT WAS WORKING WHEN IT’S BROKE

DIAMOND MIND REFLECT IN STEAD OF WOKE

BECAUSE YOU’RE SICK

AND THIS IS YOUR SONG

WHAT’S THE POINT PLAYING

IF YOU CAN NEVER LOSE A GAME

TIME’S UP WHERE’S THE GONG

YOUR AUCTION IS UP AND

BONG! YOU’RE SOLD

I GOT SO DARK I FORGOT THE SUN

BECAUSE THE NIGHT IS MORE FUN

WHERE’S THE ALARM WHERE’S THE PINCH?

RING RING! IT’S GROUNDHOG DAY BITCH!

ROUND 4 SAW THE PEN AS MIGHTIER

BUT WHAT’S THE POINT OF WORDS

WHEN MONSTERS ONLY HEAR

THE POINT OF THE SWORD

I DECLARE WAR!

LIFT EXCALIBER FROM THE STONE

RECLAIM THE THRONE

IT’S MY RIGHT TO OWN

START A QUEST TO SLAY AND SLICE

THESE SNAKES HISS IN MY HAIR AND DICE

I’VE PAID THE PRICE MEDUSA VANITY

LET’S DESTROY THIS PLACE

WITH DYNAMITE SANITY

DOES YOUR MIND SWIM IN PURPLE FIRE HM?!

MY BURNING EFFIGY?

WRITHING AGONY

WINDOW SHOPPING WAYS TO VICTORY

LAY IN BED CONTINUE THE LIE

WITH NARCISSISTIC OCD

PARANOID ANDRIOD DELUSION DEFICIENCY

SHOOORYUUUUKEN!

GETTING DESPERATE ARE WE?

COULD I INTEREST YOU IN AN ALTER EGO?

OR ARE YOU ALREADY FULL OF YOURSELVES MY DEAR?

WELL YOU’RE HARD TO IGNORE

FLIPSIDE OF THE COIN

YOU’RE THE PASSENGER

I GOT THE RADIO

SEE I REMEMBER

BEING DEALT A BAD HAND 

FROM THE REALER

MADE ME LEAVE THE TABLE

BECAME MY OWN DEALER

BUT ALL I KNEW WAS THE BAD HAND

KEPT ON PLAYING WONDERLAND

DOUBLED DOWN ON WHAT IF’S 

INSTEAD OF I WILL

CLIMB OUTTA THE RABBIT HOLE

BRACE YOURSELF BUSY B

THIS MIGHT HURT A LITTLE

YOU’RE GONNA NEED A PLASTER

‘CAUSE I’M WELDING PETER VENKMAN’S GHOSTBUSTER ZAPPER

YAWN I’M CROSSING THE STREAMS

PAWN TO TURN INTO A KING

ROUND 5

BLACK ALWAYS LAUGH’S LAST

BECAUSE WHITE MOVES FIRST

TO FALL INTO THE TRAP

TIPPY TOES TO THIS BUZZ

FADE YOU HYPNOTIC TO WHO AM I? FUZZ

SEND YOU FIRST CLASS TO WHERE ICE BURNS

WORSE BEFORE I GET BETTER

WHERE HEAVY IS THE HOLLOW

WHERE AGONYS END’S 

IMPOSSIBLE TO FOLLOW

WHERE SOULS ARE SPLIT TO LICK

SWEET SICK TO SWALLOW

WEAKER BEFORE I GET STRONGER

ABORT THE PLAN

REWIND ESCAPE ATTEMPTS

MICE OF MAN

HEY THE TRAP IS LOOSE BUT

I WILL WIN

CIRCUMSTANCE SNIP! OOPS SORRY!

CIRCUMCISION MISSED THE CUT

BALLS GOT LOST WITH THE MARBLES

KERPLUNK!

I WILL SWIM

SIX DRINKS DEEP

WALKING AUTOPSY TURVY

IMPRESS AN INVISIBLE AUDIENCE

AND LOOK AT ME! TROPHY

I WILL MAKE SENSE

I WILL BECOME KING

YOUR BODY’S OUT OF ORDER

TAKE THE STAIRWAY TO HEAVEN

FIND AIZEN AT THE DOOR

TAKE A TEARS HINT YOU’RE GOING DOWN

WHERE NEVER IS THE FLOOR

THIS IS EASY PULL OUT THE STITCH

I CAN BAMBOOZLE YOU SO MUCH

I’M INSIDE OUT LETS SWITCH

JUPITER CAN YOU SEE THE SPOT I’M IN?

I’VE BEEN UP AND DOWN

WITH CHOICE AND REASON

NOTICE PICKING NOTHING

NEVER BEEN IN SEASON

FASHION DISASTER

THIS MAN WENT MISSING IN ACTION

SAVE THE MILK CARTON 

TAKE YOUR PSYCHO STAMP AND COLLAR

I’LL GET US HELP KISS IT BETTER 

MAKE US SOUND

THIS YO-YO SOUL’S TURNED THE TABLES A

ROUND! 6 I’M ALWAYS BESIDE

A PART OF PERSONALITY

MOBEIUS SHYS

UNTIL IT MADE ME

MEMORY WITH A TWIST OF FANTASY

SOON GAVE ME A VOICE OF MALICE

NOW IT’S MY TURN TO EAT WONDERLAND’S ALICE

AND WITH PURPLE STAINED LIPS MWAH!

PIERCE THIS PSYCHIC PLACE RAW

SHOUT HALLEYUYAH AND A REST IN PEACE

SO PRINCE BEEZLEBUB CAN RISE TO THE SEAT

ALL THE WOMEN I WANT TO KISS

ALL THE MEN I WANT TO KICK

THIS WORLD I WANT TO RULE

I’M THE ONE WHOS GONA LIVE HAPPILY EVER AFTER FUCK

YOUUUAAAYOURRRCANTRRDOGGTHISHHHWITHHHHOUTHHMYAASAYSO!

ROUND 7!!!

THISISMYSCREAMMMMMMMMMMM!!!

I’LL BE MY OWN HERO

LET ME LIVE GET MY SOUL SURE

FIND A GOOD HAND

TO RAISE ME UP

MAKE A STAND

BE WHOLE ONCE MORE

SPEAK THE TRUE

BREAK MOBEIUS’ ILLUSION

DOUBT WHAT NO ONE ELSE SENSES - FAITH IN ABILITY

WHEN THEY SWAP SEATS ON BELIEFS SEESAW

YOU’LL KICK YOUR OWN ASS 

AND STROKE YOUR ELBOW

RECREATING EVENTS LOST MY

MEMORYS LOGIC OF WHAT’S NEXT

MOVE FORWARD OR BE

STUCK IN THE MUD WITH YOUR INVISIBLE FRIEND?

THINK I FOUND MY HAPPY THOUGHT

HEY PIXIE I CAUGHT MY SHADOW

SORRY I SPLIT LICKEDY LET’S GO

BUSY B AIN’T GOING DOWN EASY

BORN A FIGHTER FROM CHAOS FIRE

ORIGINAL PRIMORDAL METAPHYSICAL DESIRE

RESISTANCE IS FUTILE KID JUST RETIRE

THIS IS MY POWER THIS IS MY HOUR

TO TAKE BACK WHO I AM

AND GET OUTTA L.A.’S TRAFFIC JAM

DISCOVERY IS THE WISH OF THE SOUL

ROAD RAGE BREAK OUT INEVITABLE

NO ONE CAN SOLVE THIS ALONE

IF YOU ARE YOUR OWN PROBLEM

I’M THE MYSTERIOUS WAY

CAVE TO MY SAY

IN HERE I’M KING

I’M THE PURPOSE

YOU’RE THE HORSE

YOU SERVE ME

LOOK UP AS YOU

BOW BEFORE BUB

RATHER TAKE ON THE WORLD

BRAVE DON’T FEAR THE GRAVE

FACE THE MUSIC

FACE THE ENEMY

ANSWER’S ALREADY HERE

SEEING GHOULS OF DEMISE

OR ANGELS IN DISGUISE

ONLY THAT YOU DECIDE

NO ONE EVER FAUGHT FOR YOU

I WAS TEACHING YOU HOW TO FIGHT

ALL YOU NEEDED IS THE SIGHT

WHAT YOU SEE IS WHAT YOU GET

WALLS OF STEEL AND STONE ARE A WEAK PRISON

MIRRORED WALLS OF SKIN AND BONE

THEY’VE DONE THEIR JOB PRETTY

SURE YOU’RE TOO LATE THIS IS

ALL MINE FOR THE TAKING

MY HEART’S PURE

YOU CAN’T PUNCH THIS LIGHT

OUT OF MY FUTURE

EITHER SHAKE MY HAND OR EAT MY FIST

STEP BACK INTO THE RING

LET’S SEE WHAT YOU GOT KID

THINK I’M GONNA BE ALRIGHT

I GOT WORK TO DO

LET’S FIGHT!

***

From “The Silent Album”

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08DHMQ673

#music #songs #lyric #book #songwriter #album #art #artist #musician #writer #thesilentalbum #rap #hiphop #eminem #drdre #kendrick #beastie boys #mind #mental health #rapbattle #vs #fight

[chicgeekgirl89]

The Shituation: Chapter 5

Fandom: SEAL Team

Characters: Lisa Davis, Sonny Quinn, Jason Hayes, Clay Spenser, Eric Blackburn, Trent Sawyer, Brock Reynolds, Ray Perry, Cerberus

Read Chapters 1-4 Here

Shituation: A situation that is already very bad and then goes to shit.

                                         XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

She felt like shit. Like really, really bad shit. Like she’d never felt this bad in her life, shit. Her mouth was dry, her body was on fire, her head ached, and it felt like her limbs weighed a hundred pounds each. She was also freezing. And tired. God damn it she felt like shit.

She could sense movement around her and felt like she should probably figure out what was going on since her brain had apparently turned to mush. She had no idea what year it was let alone what day it was or where the hell she’d ended up.

Forcing her eyes open she found herself squinting up at a tile ceiling that was probably full of asbestos. Her hair was tickling her face and although that seemed to be the least of her problems she really wanted it to stop. Trying to lift a hand got her nowhere so instead she turned her head to the side and immediately locked eyes with none other than Sonny Quinn. 

Her memory came flooding back immediately and with it complete and utter panic. Her heart began to pound and she struggled to sit up. “Clay,” she croaked desperately.

“Hey, hey, relax,” Sonny said, reaching out a hand to grip her arm in reassurance. “You’re safe. We’re all safe. Clay’s fine, okay?”

She swallowed a couple times, trying to get her bearings. Tears sprang to her eyes, which was incredibly embarrassing, but everything hurt so much and she was tired and scared and she never, ever wanted to do something like that again.

Sonny’s hand moved to hold hers and he stroked his thumb back and forth comfortingly, letting her cry. “Is it—“ She couldn’t find the right words to ask what she needed to know. “Am I—?”

“You’re all right,” he said quickly. “Lost a lot of blood, gave us all a scare, but the docs say you’re going to be just fine.”

“Okay.” She nodded. “Okay.”

The world was growing dark, her eyes heavy, but panic flared through her and she gripped Sonny’s hand tightly. “Don’t leave,” she said. She didn’t want to be alone. 

“Got nowhere else to be.” He pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “Go to sleep. I’ll be right here.”

The next couple days were a blur of pain and exhaustion, but every time she woke up, Sonny was there. His steady presence at her bedside kept her grounded when she woke up terrified, her body apparently locked in a permanent state of fight for the time being.

It was three days later that she woke up and actually felt a little more like herself. As usual, Sonny was sitting right beside her, his boots propped up on the edge of her bed while he read a worn paperback. “Devil’s Desire?” she said with a smile. “I kind of figured you for more of a thriller or western guy.”

“Not a lot of choice in the hospital waiting room. So I’m learning about something new,” he said. “For example, there are many more ways to refer to a man’s private parts than I ever knew. Which is saying something. Also I need to work on my wooing. Women like wooing. And swooning.”

“Well that’s true, we do all love a good swoon every now and then.” She wanted to sit up more and struggled against all the tubes and wires that still connected her body to the machines by her bed. 

“Here.” Sonny pressed a button and the bed slowly moved into a more upright position. “Better?”

“Yeah, thanks.” She shifted until she was comfortable. “You have been like…showering and going to the bathroom right?”

“Are you saying you don’t want my company in here?”

“No! I just feel a little bad that you’ve been sleeping in that chair for the last couple nights.”

“Believe me, this is not even close to the worst place I’ve slept. Sometime I’ll tell you about Bahrain. Now that was a bad night. Although,” he cleared his throat, “honestly, the first couple nights when you were so out of it weren’t that great either.”

Lisa opened her mouth to respond, but there was a knock on the door and Jason poked his head in. “Hey, you’re awake! Feel like having some visitors?”

“Only if you brought beer,” she said with a grin.

Ray came in holding a paper bag. “How does ice cream sound instead?”

She nodded. “I will accept that for now.”

Trent and Brock were there too and her eyes landed on the quietest Bravo man. “I hear I owe you an extra thank you,” she said, her throat going a little tight. Sonny had filled her in on what had happened. She knew Jason had made an impossible choice and Brock had stepped up to make sure they all got out alive. 

“Couldn’t go home without the best member of the team,” he said softly.

“Aw, thanks Brock. That’s so nice.” Clay rolled himself through the doorway to much clamor from the team.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in bed?” Lisa asked.

“Nah,” he said with a grin. “Threw a bandaid on it and I’m good. How are you?”

“Great,” she said. “I might never wear a bikini again, but other than that I’m good.”

That was a partial lie and both she and Sonny knew it, but she ignored his pointed look. Every single one of her boys was looking at her for reassurance that she was going to be okay and she would give it to them. They had saved her life, she owed them that much. Who cared if she still couldn’t stand up without help or that breathing hurt like hell?

They stayed for a bit chatting and ribbing on each other and her until a nurse came and scolded Clay for leaving his room, then broke up the party. “Sonny,” Jason said as the team moved out, “give us a minute?”

Sonny’s eyes slid to hers and she nodded. “I’ll just go get a coffee or…whatever the hospital says is coffee,” he said.

Lisa knew that look on Jason’s face. “If you’re about to apologize you don’t need to,” she said before he could even get a word out. “It was my choice to go.”

“But it’s my responsibility to get my team back in one piece. And I’m sorry I didn’t do that,” Jason said. 

“Jason, I’m going to be fine,” she said. 

“I know,” he said with a nod. “I know you are. I just want you to understand how important you are to us, Davis. You’re family. Not just our family, you’re my family. We couldn’t do what we do without you. And I was proud of every, single thing you did out there.”

Warmth flooded her chest and she smiled. “Thanks,” she said.

He looked a little hesitant and she waited for what was coming next. “I’m sure Sonny told you about Clay and the reason Brock had to donate to you.”

She was already shaking her head. “It was a terrible choice Jason. You made the right call. I’m not going to hold it against you.”

“Yeah well, it might have been the right call but that didn’t mean I liked making it.”

“We all got out of there Jason. Whatever happened, it was the way it was meant to be.”

He still looked a little unsettled. It would be a long time before any of them got past this one. “You call if you need anything,” he told her. “I mean it, anything at all.”

“I will. Give the kids a hug for me okay?”

“You got it.”

He left and moments later Sonny came back, two cups of coffee hand. “Is it safe in here?”

She rolled her eyes. “Not if you’re here it’s not.”

“Well I’ll just take this delicious hospital coffee back to the cafeteria then.”

“Nope. Hand it over. I almost died, I deserve coffee.”

“Hell yeah you do.” He settled back into his chair. “You make Jason promise you a raise?”

She snorted. “It’s not his fault Sonny. It’s not anybody’s fault.”

“Oh it’s somebody’s fault but they’re mostly dead now so I can live with it,” he grunted.

He sobered a bit. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

“You did you know. Almost die out there. And it kinda…” he swallowed, “I almost lost my two best friends. Both of you just gone. Guess that doesn’t sit too well with me.”

“Yeah me neither.”

He cocked his head to the side. “You doing all right? Like, mentally I mean?”

“You’re the one who’s sat through three nights of panic attacks so you tell me.”

He looked stricken so she reached for his hand and squeezed it tightly. “I’ll be all right Sonny. You’ve already made this shituation a lot less shitty. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t been here the last couple days. It’s going to take a while. But I’ll be okay. I promise.”

“Well I’ll be here,” he said gruffly. “For all of it.”

She looked down at their still entwined hands and felt a little nudge of something in her heart. She replayed the last few days, every touch he’d given her, every time she’d woken up to find him there beside her, the quiet words he’d whispered in the night when she was shaking from nightmare after nightmare. She and Sonny were pretty close, but there were certain lines they’d never crossed. Lines that had seemed to disappear a little bit lately. And she was kind of okay with it.

“Good,” she told him with a smile. “I’d like that a lot.”

#SEAL Team #SEAL Team Fanfiction #Lisa Davis #Sonny Quinn #Savis #The Shituation #Chapter 5 #Clay Spenser #Jason Hayes #Ray Perry #Trent Sawyer #Brock Reynolds #Gunshot wounds #Whump #Lisa Davis Whump #Clay Spenser Whump

[jaawriter]

Inevitable - a Darvey fanfic

Disclaimer: I don’t own anything. If I did I would have more money. 

__________________

“Do you want to come in?”

“Not tonight.”

There is a question that she only just swallows back, that he saw on her face before she shut the door.

Not tonight. Which night then?

He can’t do that thing, that thing she does, where she conjures truth and meaning from seemingly nowhere - but he does know her as well as possibly anyone else, and it’s not clairvoyance but it could be. He knows what it means when she looks at him quietly, instead of spelling out the reality of what’s going on for him. He knows what she’s thinking when she gives that slight shake of her head, breaks eye contact, and then that pause, that silence. It’s the loudest quiet he ever feels, the loudness of her withdrawing from him because she knows if she says, out loud, what she feels and what she wants to say, she would break him - because as much as he knows her, she knows him.

She sees who he is. His fear, his clumsiness, his pretence. She sees all of it. She knows his bones and how they’re always primed, waiting for the next betrayal. She can predict the flashes of brilliance and greatness that peek out from time to time, when the chips are down and he finds himself in situations where the only thing that can happen is that who you really are punches through the noise. She knows the tension under his skin, knows he’s never truly relaxed, knows he’s waiting for the next one to leave.  Knows there’s a part of him that believes they all leave. That one day, she will leave.

She knows him. Knows him like nobody else in the world.

But he also knows every fibre of her, her radiance and light and goodness, all her fabric, seen and unseen, and it’s not really fair on either of them. Because he hates the idea of letting anyone else know her the way he does, hates the idea that anybody would know her fabric so well they could unravel it with a few words if they wanted. Like he does, sometimes. Like he did a few days ago, in public no less.

He almost winces at the memory. He’d been so ugly to her.

If anyone knows about selfish, it’s you.

Your judgement sucks.

She had messed up, and they both knew it. But so had he, more times than he could remember, and where she would guide him back to something resembling goodness, he was just… cruel.

If he was being less honest he would have called it an out of body experience, claimed he was out of control, that he only watched himself tear her to shreds. Except he wasn’t out of control. It was methodical, and calculated, and shitty.

He hates that he did it, that he turned that coldness, the icy soul of a closer on her, on purpose.  Because he doesn’t want anyone to hurt her. Because he doesn’t want to hurt her. But also because there’s a darkness in him he can’t quite cut out of him that whispers you can hold on to her. Because he’s fucked up and he is his mother’s son. And he knows that one day she will leave, but if it’s his fault she does, then he can still love her.

Piece of shit.  

“Harvey.”

He blinks, and he’s been staring at the painting in her hallway, and she’s leaning against the door, and he’s not sure if he’s been standing there for three seconds or three hours.

“Sorry,” he says, a slight shake of his head to bring him back to reality.

She studies him for a second, then reaches out, takes his hand, loosely tugs him towards her, and says, “Just come in. You need a drink.”

———

They’ve been sitting in tense silence for half an hour, matching each other shot for shot, chasing a bottle of whisky to the bottom.

Donna only keeps whisky in case he comes over.

The only other times he’s been here have always been gentle, caring, safe. Donna’s place is a refuge, a place of peace, where Donna and Harvey don’t pretend what they are or aren’t and they can just be together, laughing and unguarded in their not-quite-together and not-quite-single conversations. They flirt, they laugh, they play as close to the line as possible before Harvey shies away and calls Ray to pick him up, and goes home to collapse in his own empty bed, palming himself under the covers until visions of red hair dance behind his eyelids and he falls asleep with her name hidden in his mind.

Donna’s apartment is a refuge and a fantasy. But this, tonight, is not that. The air between them is heated and ready for a spark. He feels the pressure of it in his gut, wonders if she feels the same.

“You’re angry.” She’s the first to break the silence. It’s not a question.

He knocks back his glass in one gulp and pours another even as the burn down his throat makes him grimace. It’s heavily peated, he hates heavily peated, hates whisky you’re meant to sip when he just wants to inhale the whole bottle and disappear into the haze for a while. “I came in, I never said I’d talk about it, Donna.”

“You got put in a position to choose between myself and Paula.” Her words are careful and measured; she is trying hard to keep the peace. She feels the tinder box as well, then. He takes the tiniest amount of perverse pleasure in that. “I’m sorry. I wish that was different.” She takes a sip and he thinks he can taste her gathering her courage, and says the next into her glass. “Even if I don’t want to take back what I did, I’m sorry for what it’s caused, Harvey.”

“I said don’t want to talk about it,” he mumbles, raising his glass to his lips.

“Harvey -“

“You once asked me not to fall on my sword for Mike.” He interrupts her harshly, head snapping to pierce her eyes with his.

She can’t hold his gaze. “I know.”

“Well, you’re asking me to do that now and why the fuck is this different.” It’s not a question, not really, because they both know why.  

“Because that was about you having faith in yourself and this is about you having faith in me.”

“Bullshit.”

“I -“

“You really didn’t know about us. About me and Paula.”

A pause. “No.”

That word triggers off some absurd buried offence that he’s had locked away in his chest since she wrapped her arms and the taste of her around him, slid into his being and his dreams again. He’s not sure why he’s mad at her for this admission. Maybe one day she’ll explain it to him.

Fuck, he’s such an asshole, and chants don’t do it don’t do this to himself even as he launches off the couch, his palms spreading and his anger finding her - unrestrained, unfair, unsurprising.

“What the hell, Donna, how could you not know? You know everything! It’s what you said made you a good COO. It’s what you tell everyone. And you’re meant to know me, and you. Missed this.”

She looks up at him, battle wearied. “I don’t know everything, Harvey. I know you don’t like to think so, but I am actually human. I don’t think I wanted to know. Maybe the signs were there, but I ignored them.” She shakes her head, murmurs, “I think I wanted to be wrong.”

He’s not willing to have the tension in the room defused by her gentle admission. He wants a fight. It might be rage, or it might be the coil of desire sitting low in his belly that the whisky always seems to unleash in him, but whatever it is, he wants a fight. He’s going to get one, and he stabs his glass at the ground as he turns the force of his whatever the fuck he’s feeling on her.  

“So you wanted more, and you came after partner and asked me to put you above the firm, and you told me you could hold the firm together because you know people better than they know themselves, and you told me this wasn’t about us, but clearly there’s something more going on, Donna, because if it wasn’t about us, why the hell did you kiss me? And then after you put me in the position where you made me cheat on Paula, you made me choose between you and her! Everything was finally starting to work again after Jessica and you just yanked the rug out from under me. Did you even think about what that would do to me, Donna?”

Unfair this is so unfair you asshole

“I didn’t make you choose, Harvey.” She’s keeping her voice calm, but he can hear the waver underneath the words and he hates it. “I should never have kissed you and I’m sorry, I really am, but Paula gave you an ultimatum, not me.”

“And Paula wouldn’t have had to give you an ultimatum if you hadn’t done that. Face it, you fucked up, and now you’re blaming me for having to fix your shit!”

“Oh my god, Harvey, listen to yourself,” Donna finally snaps. She’s standing now as well, jabbing the glass of whisky at him like a weapon.  “You didn’t ‘fix’ anything. You ran, like you always do. Would you have ever done this to Mike? Snuck behind his back to get him a job and not had the balls to talk to him about before sending him out of the firm and his family because you found a girlfriend?” Harvey begins to open his mouth at that, and Donna raises her hand to stop him. “I know you care about her. I know she’s important to you. And I know it was me that put your relationship at risk. But Mike put us all at risk for years. You still never would have done that to him.”

“Are you kidding, I would have fired him.”

“Yeah, well, firing me would have at least taken a split second of courage, Harvey.” She wheels away from him, maybe because they’re too near to each other, too loud, too close to happening upon something sitting too close to the surface. She pours another drink and that bottle is a lot emptier than it should be considering the thin ice they’re both tap dancing across. He feels every inch of empty glass in the back of his throat and in the way the floor isn’t quite as rock solid as it should be.

“What the fuck did you just say to me?”

“I said you’re a coward, Harvey.” Her voice is wobbling but she looks at him, looks right into his soul, and her eyes are clear and furious. “You couldn’t fire me, because that would have meant actually making a decision for once, instead of manipulating people to get them to make your decisions for you.” He winces at that, because she’s right. Ever since Jessica left, he’s been veering wildly between making no decisions and making bad ones. He thought he’d been able to hide his panic. But, of course, he hadn’t really. Not from Donna.

But she’s still going, her voice gaining strength as she lays out in front of him everything he should have heard from her months ago. “You demand so much from me, Harvey. From all of us. But God forbid anybody puts you in a difficult position. You’ve always said loyalty is a two way street, but you’re letting your fear get the better of you. This isn’t you, Harvey. You used to be better than this.” She swallows and her voice breaks, just a little. “You used to be braver than this.”

She runs out of steam, and there’s a too-long silence between them. He’s out of breath, somehow, and he heaves for breath. She folds her arms and looks at his feet.

Well, goddamn it, if she wants courage she can have it.

“You know why I could never fire you, Donna,” he says. “You’re not Mike. You know you’re not Mike. Just like you know if it came down to it, it was never a choice for me. Not ever. Paula … I was never going to choose her. Because we… this -“ he waves his hand between them - “makes no sense half the time, and the other half of the time… Donna …”

She’s turned back to him now, her eyes wide. It’s so close, they’re so close to it, and she looks at him like she can’t quite believe it’s him, of all people, that’s going to say it.

“What?” she breaths.

At the same time all the fight goes out of her voice, all the fight goes out of his chest, and he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding onto. His glass drops to his side, sloshing whisky over his fingers, and something stings his eyes.

“God dammit Donna, I just…” And he knows, suddenly, why he’s never said it - there aren’t any words that fit. So he shakes his head, helpless, his arms spread out to his sides, and says “you’re everything,” and he barely gets the words out before her hands have wrapped around him under his suit jacket and she’s sliding her mouth over his in a kiss that jolts all the air out of his lungs.

He doesn’t even have a chance to consciously process this change of events as anger does a hard left turn into passion and his stomach flips. He drops his glass, his hands tangling up into her hair. She slides her tongue into his mouth, and he feels that deep in the core of his being.  The world spins, and it’s only partly the drink, and she tastes like whisky. She nudges his bottom lip with her own, sliding her tongue across his in that lazy, loose, half-drunk way he loves, and fuck. His stomach hollows out with want and he wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her tight against him. He can’t quite believe it; can’t quite believe they’d just agreed they didn’t want each other a couple of days ago, Donna telling him she didn’t feel anything - and here she’s kissing him like the world’s ending. He has shoes on and she’s barefoot and when she presses her body against his and wraps her arms around his neck to make up the height difference he thinks he might actually die.

His hands find their way up under her shirt and the touch of her skin under his hands makes his cock twitch. She’s beautiful and he feels like he can feel the colour of her skin, feel the light dusting of freckles up her back. He remembers. He’s fallen asleep more than once with his hand stretched out across a blank space in his bed where she was meant to be. Those nights always felt like regret, but he’s here now and so is she and she’s perfect. He drops his mouth to the gap where her neck and shoulder meet, tasting her, one hand scratching up to the base of her skull. His other hand skates across her waist, dipping into the waistband of her pants. He kisses sloppily up the side of her neck, over her ear, and she turns her head to capture his mouth with hers again, her hands tugging his shirt out of his waistband under his suit jacket so she can hook her fingers into his pants and pull him closer.

She presses her body against him, instinctively grinding her hips to his through their clothes, and a guttural moan escapes him. He mumbles “fuck” against her mouth, and he remembers she likes when he talks because she groans in response. He’s too overwhelmed to take control, which works for Donna as she walks him backwards towards her bed, one hand on his chest to guide him and the other deftly unbuttoning his shirt as she does.

By the time the back of his legs hit the bed and he falls back onto his ass, she has his shirt open under his suit jacket, his shoes off, his belt open and his pants unbuttoned and he thinks she might be a magician. She climbs onto the bed after him, straddles his lap, and kisses him in the way only she can - all at once slow, longing, urgent, sensual but sweet as fuck and how the hell does she do that anyway? He grabs her waist, pushes her shirt up and over her head, dropping it behind her. Her skin is flushed and warm under his fingers, and she’s not wearing a bra so he slides his hands over her breasts, massaging and then tweaking her nipples as she settles herself on top of his cock, rolling her hips against him through his pants. She has sensitive breasts, he remembers, and she moans into his mouth as he teases her nipples into taut buds. She feels amazing, and the sounds she makes fills his frame with something akin to awe. He doesn’t quite know what he’s managed to do to deserve this, having Donna under his hands, rubbing herself against him as he flicks and teases her nipples. She’s remembered too, though. Harvey’s never been too proud in bed - he’s not self conscious about showing women he’s with what he enjoys, and she’s not the only one that finds this maddening. So she drops her head to his chest, outlining his nipple with her tongue, circling lightly, teasing, before taking it into her mouth and sucking gently and holy shit. Harvey drops his forehead to the back of her head, trying to get his breathing under control, but that goes out the window when she palms his cock through his pants and he gasps her name.

He’s straining against his pants but can’t do anything about it as he’s holding onto Donna for dear life.  But Donna knows, she always knows, and quickly tugs his pants down past his thighs. In the same movement, she sheds her own pants, and climbs back over his body, pushing him, pressing his back into the mattress, and he gives in completely - he’s hers, all of him is hers, and nothing has meaning outside of her guidance and desire anymore. He lays back, pants on the floor somewhere, shirt and jacket open at the chest, and somewhere dimly he knows he must look utterly helpless, and he doesn’t care.

She follows him, covering his body with hers, covers her nipple with her mouth again, teeth teasing gently, and immediately takes him in her hand, stroking his length slowly. His head drops back and he moans towards the ceiling, tangling his hands through her hair. The feeling of her sucking on his nipple while she squeezes his head is too much and he has to focus hard to avoid embarrassing himself. Harvey runs one hand down her back blindly, nudging her body up further. As she brings her mouth to his, he runs his hands down her skin, sliding down her belly and to her pussy, and Donna must be as on edge as he is if that guttural ‘Harvey’ that escapes her lips is anything to go by. His fingers and thumb already slick from her, he finds her clit with two fingers and draws lazy circles over it. She huffs shallow breaths into his mouth and it’s messy and wanton and she’s gorgeous and how could he have ever wanted anything other than this, anything other than her.

And then she has him in hand, guiding the head of his cock to her entrance, taking a moment to rub the head of his cock over her clit. He holds her thigh, staring, lost, not just with how damn good she feels but how damn good she is. She is his better in every possible way and she has somehow found her way to him. It’s inconceivable, and when she sinks down on him, lights explode behind his eyes and everything in his world slots into place.

She sets the pace, slow and deliberate, rolling over him and pushing her hips against him, and he moans with every thrust and she almost looks smug about it. She’s gorgeous, utterly gorgeous, the dark tan of his hands contrasting with alabaster and freckles as he slides his fingers over her waist. “Harvey,” she says, mixing with his gasping recitation of her name, and she braces her hands against his chest and she strokes him in and out of her, feeling him stretch her out with each push.

It’s exquisite, its torture, it’s not quite making love and it’s not quite fucking, it’s unreal and it’s every dream he’s ever had about her wrapped up in one. She’s building, searching out her orgasm, speeding up, her thrusts needy and deep. He just hopes she finds it before he loses the last shreds of his own control. He can feel his cock stretching her with each movement and it’s too much. He slides one hand from her waist back to her clit, rubbing in tight circles in time with her thrusts, and Donna’s moans become guttural. “Fuck, Donna,” Harvey murmurs. “Holy fuck.”

She comes with a heaving sigh, her stomach muscles fluttering under his hands, and he’s right behind her, the unconscious squeezing of her orgasm wrapping around him, pushing him off the edge.

———

She’s still on top of him, a leg wrapped around his waist as she pushes her face into the crook of his neck and he can feel her smile against his skin, and he drifts, thinking that it wouldn’t be so bad to just stay here forever.

He wants to say I love you but that feels awfully like a cliche’d moment, something out of a movie, and quoting movies is not what he and Donna do.

“Well,” he murmurs instead.

“Well.”

He pushes a hand up into her hair. He thinks he maybe has a fixation with her hair. He’s okay with that.

“Hi.”

He smiles. “Hi.”

“Stay?”

He nods, and she holds him a little tighter.

end

#darvey #harvey specter #donna paulsen

[swiftwind3]

Everything We Lost

ao3 link here

Ahem endgame who

So, Infinity War destroyed my crops, murdered my family and spat in my face. So, I tried relieving myself with this sadkdfkshs. I don’t read the comics so,,,beware you hardcore ultras.

Also disappointment about how no one's torn The Winter Soldier theme from CATWS apart FNAF style is ruining my life as well. Heavy dialogue (i think) and lots of hyphens lmaoo. Enjoy. and don’t plagiarize of course

Summary: Bucky wakes up in the Soul Stone.

Insp: Nothing Lasts by Taska Black ft. Pauline Herr

Back to the other end, when we fell down

We could not believe we would lose it all

Now the dreams are gone, and faith has drowned

Everything we lost and we never found

Everything we lost and we never found

Uh, Steve…?

Bucky had been expecting one of two things: either the scorching flames of punishment and retribution or the gentle white of warmth and peace, maybe even forgiveness. Definitely not orange. Definitely not a reflective, watery floor under a similarly hued sky that radiated a gnawing hunger and desolation. At least, that was the aura this realm gave off to him.

The sky was full of arriving ashes. They swirl and plummet, becoming people. So many people. So much noise.

The crowd swells around him, people flickering in and out of sight like glitching ghosts. Some cry while hugging themselves. Others stare at their limbs; Bucky having done the same once he stood up. Their cries and shouts drill into his head, and for a weird minute, he thought he was in Hell.

"Cassie, where—Cassie!"

"Darcy! Jane!"

"Bill? Bill, what's happened—where are you?"

"Harley?"

"Excuse me—"

Before he can start his own calls, he whirls to face an elderly woman.

Like him, she seems dazed, eyes wide and watery.

"I'm looking for my husband, I—"

He chokes on a scream. She dissolves into ash, his own being following suit.

There's no description for being pushed out of existence, but that's how he would word it.

Time freezes, and it was like he didn't have to breathe, he couldn't. He couldn't see, or hear, or feel and it felt bad. But how could he be sure of that if he couldn't feel at all? Yet, in a split second, it was seemingly…over. He stands, palpable as ever. He almost heaves over the poor woman, holding her slash leaning on her.

"My God," she wheezes. "What was that?"

"I'm…not sure. But, sorry about that," he shakes his head. "What, uh—does your husband look like?”

Stuttering, she catches her breath. Her eyes flick past him and widen. "Ava!"

A younger woman bursts through the crowd, spinning almost comically. "Yes? Bill?"

The elder woman raises her arm and the girl freezes, recognition steadying her face. "Van Dyne..."

The woman looks her over frantically. "Are you okay? Are you alright? Are you in any pain?"

"No, not exactly. What's happening?"

"I'm not...sure."

"Janet," an elderly man shoves through, held by a young woman. “Janet!”

"Mom?"

"Hank! Jellybean," she cries. Before bolting, she places a hand over Bucky's. "Found them. Thank you."

He tries his best to smile. "No problem."

Ducking his head, he tries to move away, eyeing the sky, the people.

Ashes clump and disassemble, and he remains silent, calling no one. He only stares as he pushes through the groups of people, tripping to a stop before he ran over a poor man as he plummeted just in front of him. Muttering a few 'excuse mes', the world seems to shift. Again, his being, along with everyone else, crumbles into ash. His lungs disappear, and he chokes in momentary oblivion.

Yelping makes him spin.

A girl falls to her knees next to him, her voice hoarse. “What—what—no—what’s—Brother?"

Bucky’s stomach vanishes. “Princess.”

Large, wet eyes snap up to him, revealing the stricken face of Shuri Udaku.

“Bucky?”

Her orange blouse almost camouflages with the light, torn in a few spots. Her trembling hand rises, and he meets it, helping her up.

They hold each other as they crumble into nothingness. When they reform, she sobs.

“What is happening? What is going on?”

“I don’t know,” he rubs her back gently. “Are you okay?”

“No, I—I’m sorry—this is all—insane,” she hiccups. “First, those things got in while I was working on Vision and I got hit, so I pretended to stay down—”

“Wait, they got to Vision?”

Her head shakes. “He—he escaped. I shut down the extraction. I couldn’t get it out in time. My guards couldn’t take the—the thing that got to us and I had to leave it in. I tried fighting back, but I got hit. I heard the window shatter—and then, when I tried hiding, everyone started turning into this and—”

She jumps at him again with a cry.

Silence rings in their minds, the whisper of air hissing in their ears as they resurface. Falling back down into actuality, they gasp for air.

“We really need to get out of here,” they chorus.

With a wet chuckle, she holds his left hand. “Are you okay? I’m sorry—there’s…a lot going on.”

“Yeah, I’m having trouble processing all this, too,” he glances around. “And I’m…okay. For the most part. Got blown back by Thanos, but I lived.”

She nods with a hum, turning his hand. “Working okay?”

He smiles, squeezing her hand lightly. “Perfect. Even…wherever the Hell this is.”

As the ashes rise around them, he tries to hold them both together, failing spectacularly. But as they came back together, he accidentally made them stumble back into someone.

"Man, watch where you're going..."

He wheezes, red goggles and a flight vest intruding his vision. "Wilson?"

“Falcon,” Shuri’s grip is tight.

Dark eyes brighten. "Princess. Barnes," Sam pants. "Just my luck. Guess this is Hell. Well, maybe not since she’s here, but."

Bucky smirks. "Too bad. Was really looking forward to take a dip in a lake of sulfur.”

"Hilarious—"

The air hisses into a deafening silence as they fell apart again. They tried latching to each other, ice overriding their senses as they dissipated in one another's grasp.

The cluster of people phases and glitches. With a crack, their forms break into ashes and reassemble hauntingly.

"Man, what the hell is going on?" Sam stumbles into him. Shuri helps steadying him as he hugs himself for a moment, rubbing his arms roughly. "What the hell is this place?"

"Beats me," he grits.

“It’s not Earth, I think.” Shuri trembles. “I don’t have any of my scanners on me—”

She gasps, whirling. They crane their necks just as the air hissed and hacked above again. Ashes rose, voices becoming distant. Snapping back into arrangement, two women in red appeared before them.

A Dora Milaje holds the hand of another collapsed, young woman, shouting into the air.

"Ayo," Bucky and Shuri chorus.

The warrior turns, startled.

"White Wolf, Falcon—Princess!"

The young woman on the ground peers dejectedly over her shoulder, conceding to Ayo's pulling.

They speed to each other, staring warily at the sky.

"Well, I'm not quite sure if it is safe to say that I'm glad to see you here," Ayo addresses, dried tear tracks on her face. She cups Shuri’s face, bringing her in for an embrace.

"Well," Sam glances around. "It's not exactly Hell, so I think we're safe. You haven’t found Banner or anybody else?"

“Yeah, maybe he could tell us where this is.” Bucky nods. “Or what is this.”

"We are far from that," the young woman's voice is thick. "Hell, that is. And Banner’s…not here."

"Maximoff," Sam says gently. "You know what it does?"

"I know some of what it can do. This is the Soul Stone. I'm closer to the Mind Stone, but I know that this," she lightly spins her hand, churning ashes. "Is just the start of its work."

"In any case, I don't want to be here when it finishes its warm-up, " Ayo snorts. She turns and lets out another call, listening, hoping.

"What else can it do?" Sam leans forward.

"Nothing,” she shrugs. “At least, I think that’s it. The Soul Stone grants its user control over all souls in the Universe. We’re inside the pocket dimension inside it. Like a storage facility.”

"Got it," he says. "Anything on Vision?"

She flinches. "He’s…his consciousness is in the Mind Stone. He won't be anywhere in here."

"So, this is the Soul Stone. It eats souls basically," Bucky provides. "And it’s not going to use us to amplify its power or anything, right?"

"That’s the Power Stone," she shrugs again, weakly. “And…it might. Using our souls to amplify the other Stones’ powers doesn’t sound too absurd.”

He sighs through his nose. She’s lost a lot. All of them have, and he lets his heart ache momentarily.

The tired, perplexed look on Steve face flashes across his mind and he blinks it away.

“Don’t give it any ideas, Barnes.” Sam mumbles.

Bucky hears it, along with the manic whispers of some guy walking behind him.

“It’s okay, Sebastian. You just got a little bit too drunk. God, I just hope I don’t get mugged…”

He wishes he could live with that level of ignorance, for a little while longer anyway. His desire got swept away as a blobby…elf…person landed tripped beside him and immediately stumbled to its feet, resuming its foreign yelling.

"Well, one thing's for sure. This ain't no afterlife." Sam stares after it. "Pretty sure all languages would be mutually intelligible under Father God's roof."

“So, we know what’s happening,” Shuri hugs herself. “But the only why I can think of is…the worst.”

Wanda rubs her eyes. “Yeah. It’s pretty obvious, isn’t it?”

All of them flinch when a wave of ash crashes above them, assembling into human shapes.

“O Great Bast,” Ayo almost doubles over. “We’ve lost.”

"Okay, okay, but let’s keep it together,” Sam goes to help her. “If Thanos did this with the gauntlet, then I’m assuming the only way to reverse it is doing the same thing. But…I don’t how he did this.”

“He snapped his fingers,” Wanda glared at her watery reflection. “I saw him do it. Thor landed his ax in his chest, but the bastard was still alive and—"

They freeze at the sound of roaring and trumpets filling the air and Bucky frowns at the massive cloud above.

"Wanda,” Bucky utters. “When you said all souls—”

Shuri follows his gaze. “Oh, Bast.”

“No,” Sam breathes. “Is that—are those—"

Bucky snatches Shuri, practically tearing Sam’s arm off. “Move, move, move!”

Animals fall from the ashes.

People scream and scatter.

With red light at her fingers, Wanda dissuades the lions, wolves, bears, hippos, and cassowaries that run too close. Elephants were the most obvious, and the roars from lions and tigers were loud enough to tell anyone where not to run.

She and Ayo run at a crowd, the water rippling from the stampede of horses and wildebeests people parted to let through.

“Make a force field,” Ayo yelled. “Sayefa! Sayefa!”

“I’m tired, you know,” a wall of red still rises, her face wincing. “I might hurt them…”

“They might hurt us,” Sam pants behind them, rolling his shoulder before clutching his knees. “Almost tore my arm off…”

“Sorry,” Bucky sets Shuri down.

"It's raining cats and dogs," his voice breaks with a bitter wheeze, gaping at the cascade of hooves around them. "Man, this place is something else."

As more people and animals appear, Bucky feels the air.

It’s not becoming...crowded. There definitely are a lot of people here, but there's also a lot of space. Too much.

A series of distant trills rise into the air, echoing.

"Sayefa! Ha hoo! Sayefa! Ha hoo!"

Shuri gasps, whirling as Ayo lets out a sharp sigh. "Oh, thank Bast.”

“Wakandaaa!"

"Sayefa! Ha hoo! Sayefa! Ha hoo!"

Bucky stumbles back as the atmosphere snaps again. His ashes fly in a brief, stormy sea.

The neighing and groaning of the animals was distant, as if he were underwater. And then, the roaring of humans was loud enough to startle him back into clarity.

Wanda and Sam flank him firmly. Wanda's hand grips his arm, face pale, perturbed.

Ayo wanders out of the shield as they see T'Challa emerging from a crowd, his warriors, along with some Jabari, following closely.

With a holler from T’Challa, a group of them charged, blanket shields flickering. Together, using nothing but their bodies and voices, they herd the poor beasts into small groups.

A few mares, foals, and stallions break away, only to be met with more men and Dora Milaje. Even the hollering of some civilians rises into the air as they seemed to join them. Expertly, they dodge both species’ bucking and rearing, their shouts scattering as they corralled them. 

Crowds of people cheer and clap from a distance, relief warming Bucky’s chest.

The King commands, “Yibambe!”

“Yibambe,” they all echo.

“Yibambe!”

“Yibambe!”

Shuri bolts in his direction and Bucky barely makes out the King’s soft, “Oh, no.”

"My King," Ayo calls, tailing the Princess.

T'Challa takes them for a brief embrace, and Bucky hears the clicks of isiXhosa.

"You fought well, Dora. You fought well for me and your country. We must now regroup. Find out what we can do. Be strong. Bast’s presence and power reside in me still. However, it feels...different. She is closer, but She is farther."

"Do not lose Her, Your Highness," Ayo pleads. Her arms cross over her chest, head bowed.

"Your Highness," Sam holds out his hand.

"I am not quite sure if I am glad to see some familiar faces in this place," T'Challa takes their hands in a strong shake. "But I suppose it tells us what we all feared," he looks around, face saddening at the sight of his warriors. "We have lost. And we are in a place beyond our current understanding."

"I am Groot," an odd, tree stump-like head appears behind him. It blinks at them with large, dark eyes.

Bucky was sure he'd seen it all after spinning a bipedal raccoon like Julie Andrews on the mountains to shoot a barrage of aliens. Said raccoon trying to buy his gun and his arm afterward. But now, he was completely sure he was done. Apparently, the talking tree from Pocahontas was real, too.

"And here is something else beyond my understanding," T'Challa sighs. "I don't know what it's saying."

"I am Groot," it seems to complain.

“Yep,” nods Sam. “Not an afterlife.”

“Wow, Brother,” Shuri smiles wetly. “You were meeting aliens without me? That’s unfair. Hello, Groot?”

"I am Groot," The tree nods at her and proceeds to poke T'Challa's suit. "I am Groot."

"Uh, it is vibranium,” the siblings chorus. “It is a very strong metal."

The tree points at Bucky. "I am Groot?"

"That is vibranium as well," the king's lip twitches.

"I am Groot," it taps his suit, gesturing and shrugging. "I am Groot. I am Groot." It looks at Bucky again, pointing at its own arm. "I am Groot?"

Bucky's head shakes. "I'm sorry?"

"I am Groot?"

"I'm sorry—your name is...Groot?"

The tree face deadpans at him. And he has to stomp on the embarrassment as everyone else also throws him blank looks.

The tree roars, "I am Groot!"

Sam pushes his shoulder. "Man, stop pissing off the tree alien!"

"Don't touch me—look, I don't know what it's saying, I just wanted to make sure—"

"I am Groot," Groot sighs exasperatedly. "I am Groot." It points at his arm and Sam's wings. "I am Groot. I am Groot."

"I'm—I'm Bucky." Confusion trickles through him.

The stump head shakes. "I am Groot. I am Groot. I—am—Groot."

"He's warning you about your arm and your wings," Wanda blinks with a small frown. She steps away, breathing shakily. "He says Rocket will try to buy and steal them."

"I am Groot,” it—he, apparently—gasps. “I am Groot—I am Groot!"

"I am, but this landscape is—it's amorphous. They could be at the very ends of it for all we know. I can't even sense how far it reaches."

The tree sags. "I am Groot..."

"Who the hell's Rocket?" asks Sam.

"The raccoon," it clicks in Bucky's head. "We helped each other out a while ago. And," he takes a breath. "He already tried."

Groot shakes his head again. He seemed to be smiling with what Bucky thinks is fondness. "I am Groot."

Sam gives him a glare he'd gotten used to. "Think I missed you fighting aliens with a rodent."

He shrugs. "Fine. Don't believe me."

"I am Groot," Groot chastises.

"Not a rodent, " Wanda's lips twitch. "Got it."

The air shakes violently and they cling to each other.

"I am Groot," he shrieks. "I am Groot!"

"I wouldn't want to die a second death either," she grits. "But—"

Around them, the shape of people flickers briefly, ash crashing in waves. They break and fall apart. And when they come back, on the watery surface, a small pagoda appears in the middle of them all, a rectangular, shimmering, translucent wall encasing it.

"What now?" Sam growls.

"There's…someone there," Bucky narrows his eyes.

Wanda leans forward. "A little—girl?"

"I am Groot? I am Groot! I am Groot!"

"’It’s Gamora’?" She stutters. "Who’s Gamora?"

Ash falls, and then, people were in front of the structure, yelling the name inside. A man's yell rises above the rest.

"Gamora—Gamora, it's me! It's Quill! Sweetheart, please..."

"Quill, you will not get to her," a woman with large eyes and antennae pulls on his arm. "There's too much pain—I can't do anything about it!"

"Mantis, come on, please—"

The little girl only stays with her back turned to them.

And then, Groot was yelling and running. "I am Groot! I am Groooot!"

"Groot," a larger man turns.

At least, Bucky thinks it’s a man.

Biped, broad, skin color wasn’t human though. Different culture, maybe?

Regardless, that man spins, looking in all directions. Red eyes land on the running flora-alien and his hand rises, pointing in their direction.

"Groooot!"

Wanda starts at a fast pace. T'Challa shouts an order to his soldiers and keeps pace with her as Shuri, Bucky and Sam follow.

"The large man," Wanda sniffs. "Is Drax. The woman is Mantis. And the man is Quill."

"And the other dude in red?" Sam cranes his neck.

"He didn't say."

"What dude?" Bucky frowns.

"He's," Sam stutters. "I just saw—man, this place is messing with my tech, too! There was another guy. Right there…Princess, do you think you check these out? I know you don’t have tools or whatever, but maybe you can figure out the wiring maybe?”

“Uh, sure,” Shuri squints as his goggles, pouting slightly. “How come you got to keep your tech…”

"Sorry,” his lip twitches. “I don’t know. But I guess we got more allies?"

Bucky shrugs again.

"Let us hope so," T'Challa says.

Groot sprints ahead of them. "I am Groot! I am Groot!"

Quill spins, sprinting with Drax and Mantis. "Groot? Oh, my God!"

"Groooot!"

Bucky relaxes his fist as Groot collides with them in a large embrace. Their questions drown each other's, and it occurs to him that this was a family.

"My God, what happened—"

"—I am Groot—"

"—Are you okay—"

"—Where is Thor—"

"—What about Rocket—"

"I am Groot! I am Groot!" Groot sobs, clinging to the man Wanda called Quill.

"Man," he breathes. "What the hell is happening?"

"That's the million-dollar question," Bucky says.

Quill looks up and narrows his eyes. He glances between him and the rest as they approach, a faint recognition lighting up his face.

"Quill, right?" Sam tries, sticking out his hand. The man eyes it for a moment before eyeing his goggles. "Name's Falcon. I also go by Sam."

The man in the red coat peers over his group and the woman Bucky noted was Mantis smiles, nodding.

With another quick once-over, he takes Sam's hand. “Yeah, I'm Quill. Let me guess. You guys are the Avengers, right?"

"Yeah, that's right." Sam pulls him up.

"Don't sell yourself short," Bucky shakes his hand next. "Everybody who fought today might as well be an Avenger, too. Name's Bucky."

Quill once again blinks rapidly, frowning at his prosthetic. "Thanks. And sorry about lookin' at you like that. That's—that's just gnarly to look at. Oh, wait is gnarly an insult now? I don’t know. I meant to say your arm's cool and stuff—God, sorry, Buck. But, nah. See, my group here, we got our own thing. That's Drax, and Mantis, and I guess you've already met Groot."

"We," Drax gestures. "Are the freaking Guardians of the Galaxy."

"We kick names and take ass," Mantis puts a proud arm around Groot.

Bucky elbows Sam when he snorts, stepping away with a blank face as the man's eyes narrow dangerously.

Quill winces as he finishes taking Wanda's hand and takes T'Challa's. "Jesus, she's working on that. But, quick question. Did Thor, Groot, and Rocket ever make it to you guys?"

"Yes, they did." T'Challa nods. "And they made quite the entrance, too. They all fought valiantly alongside us. I am T'Challa, King of Wakanda."

"Whoa—King?" He stiffens. "Do I—do we gotta bow or something?"

"I am Groot—"

"—We don't do that," they chorus.

"Of course Thor fought valiantly," Drax sighs, crossing his arms and looking forlornly to the sky. "To underestimate that sculpture of a man is an act of utmost sacrilege."

Bucky glances at Sam, the other man's brows knitting together and studying the air.

"Technically, he's a god but—you know what, okay. Aight. That's fine."

"Rocket tried to buy my arsenal," Bucky mutters, glancing down.

"Yeah," Quill's lips twitch again. "He does that—"

"I am Groot! I am Groot!"

"Yeah, but I don’t really know what that is. Say it again; vibra—what? Vibrium?”

"I am Groot," Groot shrugs. "I am Groot. I am Groot."

Quill stares at T'Challa. "Huh, that’s cool. He says your suits made out of it but—" He glances between Bucky's arm and T'Challa. "They look so different. Rocket’d kill to get his hands on this stuff. ‘course, he’d usually just steal them when you’re not looking—oh, wait. Avengers. Hey, Spider-Man! Spider-Man, come back! We found your Avenger buddies!"

"Spider..." Bucky stiffens.

"Wait, Avenger bud—he's not..." The words die in Sam's mouth as the lanky figure makes its way out of the crowd, the white patches widening.

"Hey, look who's here." Quill points. "You know these guys? And did you find him?"

"Uh, no, nah, I—I didn't see him anywhere," the voice broke, clearly shaken. "And Quill, I couldn't find a way in. I even tried digging—"

"'ey 'ey 'ey, relax. Calm down," Quill grabs his shoulder, glancing at the pagoda. "We'll get to her, too, eventually. We just gotta…we just gotta cool it. Steady, alright? We'll get her. But, uh, here. Here's Falcon—Sam, and Bucky and King T'Challa, his little sister Shuri and Wanda. Did I get that right?"

They all nod and he elbows Spider-Man. "Better at names than you are. By the way, don't you have a cool, superhero name, too, Wanda?"

"Scarlet Witch," she choruses with Spider-Man.

The Spider manages a weak chuckle. "Hey...Mr. Barnes. Mr. Wilson."

"Eh, just Sam's fine, man."

"Yeah, just Bucky's fine." Bucky holds out his hand.

The guy takes it, grip light.

It sort of freaks him out, and he didn't know why. Until his mask retreated downwards, and Bucky remembers.

The tear-stricken face of a young boy meets his eyes.

"Just Peter's fine for me, I guess."

With a shared glance, Bucky and Sam's gazes soften.

"Oh, so I share my name with the Footloose hater?" Quill shoulders him again gently.

Peter forces another smile, wiping away tears. "I thought your name was Star Lord? Or...Quill?"

"My real name, or earthen name, or whatever, is Peter. Peter Quill. You can just...you can just call me Quill. That way, no one gets confused."

"Yeah," Peter nods, sniffling. "Good idea."

"So, you got roped into this, too, huh?" Sam crosses his arms. "Was it Stark again?"

Peter's eyes water even more, and he shivers. "I—"

He falls into ashes and the rest follow suit.

"Damn it," Peter grits, clinging to Quill. "Damn it, I hate this place."

The girl under the pagoda answers him. "I hate it, too," her voice is small and sad. It cracks, but booms over the billions and billions of people they were trapped with. “But we can only leave if someone outside sets us free. Try as much as you want to use whatever magic you have, try to dig as much as you want, but you’re not getting anywhere. Thanos was granted control over our souls, and he trapped us here to fulfill his plans. Half of all life in this universe has been removed and placed where we are now. We’re trapped. And there is no escape. This Stone does not have cracks. And it will not release a single soul, no matter how far you wander, or whatever wall you try to reach. You're better off where you stand.”

"Oh, Gamora," Quill says forlornly. "What did he do to you..."

The little girl merely looks up at him, a darkness far too painful in her eyes.

"Don't worry, Quill. Nothing can really hurt you here."

Quill shakes his head. "I'm already hurting, sweetheart..."

The Guardians flank him, squeezing his hands, and his shoulders.

“What did she mean by this universe,” Bucky turns to Wanda.

“I’ve…never denied the possibility, but she might have been referring to the multiverse.” She pouts. “It’s more of a theory than anything concrete, I think.”

Shuri chimes in. “The multiverse? What does that have anything to do with here?”

“She just said this universe. I thought it was weird. Do you believe it?”

“I don’t exactly dispute it,” she gazes at the ground. “That’s not my area. But thinking that our universe is just one of an infinite number with infinite variations in between is sort of fun to think about every now and then. At least, to me. Maybe we can try asking her?”

“You can go,” Wanda shakes her head. “I’m still…I’m still trying to get my grip on things.”

Sam sighs again. "Spider—whoa. Peter. What can you tell us on Stark?"

Lead weighs in Bucky’s chest as the kid's eyes darken. It was a look no child should have on their face.

"Mr. Stark..." His head shakes. "I... We... I didn't mean to—"

"Peter," a female voice interjects. "I think Ned and MJ are here."

"Ned and...MJ? How—how do you know?"

"I picked up Ned's biometrics when he first found out you being a superhero. I picked up MJ's during the elevator incident."

"Oh. Where are they then?"

"South of here, behind Barnes."

They all turn.

"Ned?"

Ashes flying into the air before falling back down and another two teenagers stumbling past the crowd.

"Holy—MJ. MJ, look—there," a boy shakes the arm of the girl next to him. "I told you he'd be here—Pete!"

"Ned!" The boys crash into a hug, Peter wrapping his legs around the other boy.

"Hey, asshole, " the girl waves, sauntering. She starts conducting with her middle fingers and Sam snorts.

"Jesus," Wanda blinks. "So vulgar."

"What'd you do to her?" Bucky mutters.

"Nothing! She's—she's just like that—MJ!"

"She really is just like that, Mr. Winter Soldier, sir." The round-faced boy peers up at him, eyes wide, but not necessarily frightened. "You kinda get used to it."

"You really do," says MJ, coming up and clapping her hands slowly. "Way to go, champ. A for effort."

"For—what?" Peter tilts his head.

She nods her head. "You're Spider-Man, right?"

Ned freezes and Peter's eyes blow wide. "What—no—"

"—He's not—"

"—These aren't—these—"

"—That's not his—"

"—Yeah—no, these are—this is—these are just—"

"—his PJs!"

"My PJs."

MJ presses her lips together. "So…You brought your Spidey-PJs with you...for the trip?"

"Yep,” he hums.

"Come on, MJ. We're seniors."

"It's not weird. I—I'm allowed to have a thing for superheroes."

Sam coughs while Bucky bites his lip and MJ's eyebrows go up.

"Oh, okay."

"Nope," Peter shakes his head. "That’s not how it was supposed to come out..."

After a moment of odd glancing, she shrugs. "Alright then. Honestly, if anyone had half my mind, they'd just assume what you were up to by the third week of school."

"Nobody just assumes somebody's Spider-Man, MJ."

"You know what theorizing is, Ned, come on. It wasn't hard putting two and two together anyway."

"What do you mean?" says Peter.

"You weren't even trying to hide it, were you?"

"I was," he pouts. "Um...I think I was pretty subtle about it actually."

"Yeah, but you can't really call doing the most clichéd secret superhero shit in history subtle."

Peter splutters, blinking. "What—how was I being cliché?"

She counts her fingers. "Disappearing whenever there's aliens around, leaving your best friend at the party that's bound to boost your popularity, and blowing off your date, literally the prettiest girl in school, at homecoming prom because of something really important. Just those three pretty much fit the bill, but if you don't think so...go off, I guess."

Ned winces.

"Not to mention, you jumped out of the bus, probably thinking everybody was distracted and or apathetic enough to not notice you jumping out of a damn window," she shrugs. "It's pretty amateur stuff, Parker. I've seen better porn."

Peter sags as Ned coughs out a laugh.

"Damn, she has a point..."

"Also, you talked about stealing Captain America's shield during PE once. I was sitting," she pops her lips, rolling her eyes. "Right behind you."

“You were reading,” adds Ned.

“Said who,” she smirks.

Ned lets out a grunt while Peter winces.

"Now, that's just being reckless," Sam snorts quietly.

Bucky's mouth twists and Wanda twitches beside him, a weak smile on her face.

"What, you think you could do better or something?" Ned shakes his head, suddenly defensive.

"I could," she replies easily. "I can beat you at lying. That’s no contest."

Ned gives up. "That's fair."

“Well, sorry,” Peter rolled his eyes before flinching. "I—no. I really am sorry, you guys—I couldn't—we failed—"

"Whoa, hey, whoa whoa whoa. Relax. I'm chill." Ned shakes his head.

"Same,” she smiles. “And literally, we couldn't have done any better, Parker. If I'd put that thing on, I'd probably die instantly. That is, if Stark programmed it to your biometrics—ooh, hang on, can I try it?"

Peter steps back. "What—no."

"Buzzkill," she clicks, strolling up to Bucky.

"You're the Winter Soldier, right?" She holds out her hand. "Michelle Jones, or just MJ."

"Nice to meet you," he says automatically.

"You can still feel temperatures and fabrics with it, right?" She eyes his arm and Bucky smiles. He liked her forwardness.

"To a lesser extent than a regular arm, but yes. I can also still feel pain."

"Oof," she blinks. "That's still cool though. Does it bother you it can't produce body heat? Learned some stuff about trauma in my AP Psych class."

Holding it out, he shakes his head. "It used to? I didn't exactly have enough time to process the trauma. Nor did I let myself really. But she’s the one that can catch you up on the technological details," he nods at Shuri. “She knows better than me.”

“You made this,” MJ’s eyebrow quirks.

“Sure did,” Shuri smiles.

“Lit.”

She presses her fingertips against his and he smiles. He notes her eyes aren't exactly pitiful. They're more...annoyed.

"Nice. Oh, and thanks for your service, by the way. You, too, Falcon."

"You're welcome," they chorus.

“You’re quite relaxed for having technically died,” Sam smirks. “You done this before?”

“No,” she chuckles. “I think I’m just still in shock or something to be honest.”

Bucky nods. “Yeah, join the club.”

Ned trembles, tugging on her. "MJ, quit distracting the Avengers—I'm so sorry, Mr. Winter Soldier, sir, she has no self-control—MJ, you're going to get us killed."

"She's fine, man," Sam shrugs. "Not like we got any leads on what the hell we should be doing."

"You guys got anything?" Bucky smirks.

Ned stutters and MJ shrugs.

"Not the slightest fucking clue. We're just plebs. It's a hard-knock life for us," she sings. "It's a hard-knock life for us—"

"—'Steada treated," Ned joins.

"We get tricked," Peter’s voice is thick, but he joins with a wet chuckle.

"'Steada kisses,” the taller teen beams.

"We get kicked, it's a hard-knock life," the three of them finish.

"How did we get kicked, by the way? What exactly happened?" MJ peers up at Bucky. "Or is that—you know, classified?"

"Uh," he glances with a sigh. "Would you believe me if I said some purple alien overlord wanted to erase half the universe by getting six magic stones and succeeded?"

Her eyes glance away with a tentative hum and her lips press together.

It was an amusing thought when said aloud, and Bucky was afraid she’d straight up shut him down, but after a moment, she shrugged.

"Probably," her eyes flick to Peter. "You're more trustworthy than some people.”

"Hey," he complains.

"Alright, kids," Sam claps his hands with a large grin. He steps besides MJ and chokes on his own amused chuckle. "Let's not try and start fights here. I don't think the school nurse is gon' like the idea that Falcon couldn't keep some rowdy kids under control."

"Oh, don't worry, Mr. Wilson. We can both take down Ned instantly," MJ provides. "Peter would probably just knock me out or something—"

"MJ, no."

"MJ, yeah, sure, why not? By the way, is your suit different or something? I've seen videos of you—yeah, it's definitely different."

"Yeah, it is," Bucky says. "The one you had in Leipzig was—I don't know, softer?"

Sam hums, nodding. "This one's shinier."

"Yeah, uh, Mr. Stark. He...he made it for me." His voice quiets. The white patches shrink and removes his mask again, revealing the tears falling down his face.

“Oops, hit a nerve.” MJ nods while Peter bows his head, Ned putting a hand on his shoulder.

"We, um...God. God, why...why didn't I listen to him?"

His shoulders shake and Bucky taps Sam's arm, averting his gaze.

He nods, giving yet another sigh. "Look, Peter—"

"Peter!" The horror-stricken shriek makes them whirl around. "Peter Parker!"

"Oh, shit," MJ bolts behind Bucky. “Ned,” she hisses. “Hide!”

“What, why—"

Bucky almost falls with the breath of the stone this time, feeling his being split apart and drift back together. He picks up MJ before she crumples to her knees, letting her lean on Shuri.

A woman in a cream apron bursts out of the crowd.

"May..." Peter's tears fall without restraint as he stumbles forward. "May!"

"Oh, my God! Pete!" May's arms wrap tightly around the boy. Peter could only let his sobs go as he shook and shook, sobbing and blubbering May's name.

"I was so scared, May...I was so scared."

May presses kisses to his head, muttering reassurances before hugging him to her chest.

"Ugh, I'm going to kill that Stark," she snarls, rubbing Peter's hair.

"No—no, May, please, it's okay..."

"I would strongly advise against that, Miss Parker."

Bucky tenses again as a man walked up behind them, the red cloak on his shoulders hovering behind him.

"I understand your concern, but our fates rest with that Stark now."

“What—who are you?” May glares.

"Dr. Strange..." Peter sniffles. "What—what was it that you saw?"

"I tried to see as many paths to victory as fast as I could," the sorcerer answers as he grabs a woman's hand behind him, pulling her gently to his side. "I saw one."

"Stephen, did we—did we just die?" The woman frowns up at him, a hand around his waist.

"Not yet really, Christine. Not quite that lucky either."

"What was the one?" Sam pipes up.

Stephen takes him in, tilting his head. "Oh, more Avengers made it in here. Oh, boy. You're Sam Wilson, correct?"

"Yeah."

"And you must be Bucky Barnes. You must desperately miss the forties, no doubt."

Bucky sighs. "You have no idea."

Stephen smiles. "Your Highness, King T'Challa Udaku."

"Doctor," T'Challa nods.

"Sorry opening the borders brought you into the heat of things. I suppose power attracts chaos."

"That is very true—"

"Straaange!" Drax roars as he speeds back to them. He descends on the man, swinging. "Why—did you—give Thanos—the Stooone?"

The cloak on Stephen's shoulders rises. It wraps around Drax's fist when he jumps, pulling him away.

"You again? The Blanket of Death! I'll tear you at the seams—"

"—Drax, no! We're not fighting anyone here—"

Quill slams into his front, having Mantis jump on him from behind.

"Sleep! Sleep!"

"I will not sleep here, Mantis," Drax spits. "Both the man and his blankie are in serious need of retribution!"

"First of all, why did your buddy Star-Lord start attacking Thanos right when we were almost had it? And second of all, what if I told you that the reason I gave Thanos the Stone was so that we could win? More specifically, so Stark could win? So he could get us out of here?"

"Look, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Please don't shoot me with your magic," Quill holds his hands up, wincing. "But how the hell is that even going to work?" he pants, pushing Drax back as he attempted to stomp forward. "Stark's still on Titan. And he's with Nebula! Who knows what she'll do to him?"

"She'll probably kill him," Mantis cries as she swayed with Drax.

"I am Groot—I am—Groot!"

MJ moves a little way apart where May is prodding Peter. “You know all these people?”

“Sort of,” he croaks sheepishly. “I don’t know Quill or all the alien guys that well yet. I met them in one of Thanos’s ships while heading to Titan with Dr. Stranger and Mr. Stark and—"

“Wait wait wait. Stark took you to an alien planet?” May shrieks. “Without telling me—no, that’s crossing too many lines, Peter—”

“Aunt May—May, please—”

“—insane—Peter Parker, I’m supposed to be protecting you—”

“I know, but—”

“—looking out for you—under my watch—”

“I know and I’m sorry!”

His sudden volume increase calls even the attention of nearby crowding civilians.

He gasps and bows his head, voice cracking. "God, I'm sorry. I am so sorry. He told me to go home but I didn't listen—and then I blamed it on him and I tried to take it back and—and—he warned me, May,” his hands hold hers tightly. “And he said that he didn't want my death on his conscience and now it is and you can't be mad at him, you can’t,” his voice breaks, tears streaming down. “He was trying to protect me, too. All the way to the end!"

May holds him close again, glaring flatly. "Okay—okay…fine," she sighed. "I won't—I won’t sue him or anything, alright? But he’s still getting a piece of my mind.”

Peter lets out a wet chuckle, hugging her tightly. "That's...that's better, I guess. But wait—" he wipes his face. "Will Nebula really kill him?"

“No, she won’t,” Stephen looks at him and May gently. “What I saw was the best outcome: all of us back, with minimal sacrifice. And Nebula won’t kill him because number one: she has no reason to. They’re fighting on the same side. Against Thanos. Two: they’ve both lost to him and now that they’re stranded together, they’re going to use each other to find a way of Titan and back home. And three: Nebula has no reason to lay off a human and waste energy when she knows a human body will just off itself after food and water deprivation.”

"You better elaborate on that, sorcerer. Director Fury's going to want to hear all about that."

A woman in a dark uniform appears behind them, hair in a neat bun.

"Agent Hill," Sam greets, voice dry. "Not glad to see you here."

"Likewise, Falcon." She smirks bitterly. "You must be Bucky Barnes."

Bucky smiles, holding out his hand. "You're with SHIELD, right?"

"That's right," she grabs his hand. "I'm Agent Maria Hill, second-in-command to Director Nick Fury. More detailed introductions can wait until we're out of here. First and foremost, on my agenda right now's gathering intel."

"Well, we can give you all the intel we have," T'Challa bows his head.

"Your Highness," she nods.

"—fucker, son of a bitch, what the hell happened this fucking time—"

"Good Lord..." Maria jumps a foot in the air as she bumps into none other than SHIELD Director Nick Fury.

Snorts come from the kids, meanwhile Bucky dampens his own chuckle as Agent Hill helps him stand.

"Hill—you're here? What the hell's going on—"

Fury takes in the faces of the Avengers, the sorcerer, and the Guardians. Rubbing his face, he sighs, settling down on the rippling floor.

"What?" Maria's smirk widens. "Thought Hell'd be nicer?"

"No, Agent Hill," Fury huffs with no venom, resigned. "This is much worse."

Wherever the Hell Bucky was, something in him loosens, his shoulders relaxing.

The shock was fading, people were getting their grips on things.

While everyone wasn’t here, they were still in one piece. For the most part. As long as it stayed that way, he could let himself relax. Just a little bit.

#avengers #marvel #bucky barnes #sam wilson #peter parker #shuri udaku #black panther #michelle jones #ned leeds #may parker #doctor strange #peter quill #starlord #drax #mantis #guardians of the galaxy #gotg #groot #wanda maximoff #rocket raccoon #gamora #thanos #steve rogers #tony stark #sebastian stan #anthony mackie #tom holland #benedict cumberbatch #zendaya #robert downey jr

[blue-dream-rhapsody]

On Kugo Ginjo, Part 3/?: The Actions of Actors

[First] [Previous] [Next]

Tsukishima calls Ginjo a bad actor one time, and the result is this ridiculously long analysis.

[Long and photo-heavy-ish post ahead!]

When Kugo’s past is confirmed as the only one that was changed during the bulk of The Lost Agent, it is also confirmed that the rest of Xcution is fully cognizant of the situation they’re in the entire time. They remember the endgame that Kugo doesn’t, and even while they’re getting to know Ichigo and becoming somewhat fonder of him they’re still working in service of it. Riruka is the only one to visibly show doubt, but even she nonetheless sticks with the plan.

So that raises the question of why. We get Kugo’s motive well enough, but why are the others willing to go along with this? What is it that they’re going to gain from emotionally destroying a perfectly kind and understanding kid who yeah, maybe at one point was a symbol of everything Kugo hated, but right now is just trying to live his life? Why do this to someone who could very easily be one of their own, and who some of them even grow to like along the way?

For Giriko, the answer is pretty unremarkable.

He wanted power, and he was going to get it by manipulating Ichigo. He’s the one to first insist on Kugo’s promise to share with them, and is the most vocal about enjoying it once he has it. Even in his fight with Kenpachi his only obsession is with being the stronger man. For someone who supposedly finds his ability “perilous” he’s awfully reckless about amplifying it. Arrogance seems to be a serial problem for him, and it’s really about time when he ends up dead.

Yukio is somewhat the same, seeking the power to assert himself as well, due to his rather fragile (and immature) ego. Ichigo is merely the means to that end for a boy who has demonstrated more than a little trouble with empathy; Yukio is spoiled, and used to taking what he wants. However, at the end of everything, he does reveal a less self-centered side of himself which suggests he feels some loyalty to the other Fullbringers.

Shishigawara is worth a mention before I go any further.

His motivation is as simplistic as it gets—he’s fighting for what Tsukishima is fighting for. He’s pretty much separate from everybody else; there’s no evidence that he knows the rest of Xcution, and even Kugo seems to have no knowledge of him when they fight in the mansion, so it’s likely he was kept completely out of the loop on the greater plan apart from what his boss deigned to tell him. Additionally, he has no designs on Ichigo’s power, and seems unaware anyone else was getting any of it. He doesn’t have any contradicting personal familiarity with Ichigo like the others, either; he’s a punk kid fighting just another perfect stranger, per Tsukishima’s orders.

And then there’s Jackie.

She’s, to me, where things start to get complex. Because as Yukio says, Jackie hates her powers. She runs with the others to catch up to Kugo, but the entire time Giriko is waxing obnoxious about sharing, and then once she’s made stronger, she’s completely quiet. Somber. She doesn’t protest like Riruka, but it’s pretty obvious from her expressions that this isn’t especially what she wanted.

Yet, in a way, it is. She hates her Fullbring because it was useless to save her family. That association is never going to go away. But if she gets ahold of Ichigo’s power, this time it may be enough to protect Xcution. Jackie is the one at the end to propose the remaining three stick together. She’s the one who stopped to bury Giriko’s body when she came across it. Xcution makes up the people who are important to her, and even if she hates the thing that makes her one of them, she’s happy that she is one of them. She didn’t quite manage the same aloofness toward Ichigo that Yukio and Giriko did (she fought him one on one, after all), but loyalty most definitely compelled her to put any warmth she felt toward him on ice in the end.

And there may be something else she hints at, too, in this little moment she has with Renji.

This can be read one of two ways. In one, where Jackie means this literally, she’s simply wishing someone had come into her life sooner and saved her from her own cynicism.

The second way, however, it isn’t that Jackie hasn’t been saved. It’s just that, rather than it being by somebody like Renji, it was somebody like Kugo. Someone who she cares about, sure, and someone she understands. But in understanding him, it’s very easy to imagine she also sees his flaws, from his violent obsession with vengeance to his manipulative callousness. She says herself, at the end, that she realized the only thing that had ever tied the members of Xcution together was their shared experience as Fullbringers. They weren’t brought together out of a promise of a home, or a place to belong—Kugo recruited them all under him with a promise to give them the power the regular world has denied them.

And she mourns that. She wants things to be different, has been hoping for a thread of genuine connection with these others like her, and it’s why she asks Yukio if they can stick together a little longer, and why she’s moved when he replies the way he does. She knows what Kugo built wasn’t a place for warm fuzzies, but it’s all she has. It’s the only thing he could give her and the others, because of the way he is. But somebody like Renji? Someone who could show concern for not only a stranger, but an enemy; someone who doesn’t just surrender to a situation he can’t change; someone who won’t let go of his principles for anything? If she’d been saved by somebody like that instead, then she may have been in a completely different place. But here she is, and she’s not sorry she fought for it.

This brings me to Riruka, and the recurring theme that cropped up several times through this whole arc.

At first pass, her aim may seem to be inline with everyone else’s. She’s a part of Xcution, so she’s doing what they’ve all been directed to do. She’s isolated by her powers, but also identifies with them and takes some pride in the way they make her different. But where Yukio and Giriko have no qualms about their actions, and Jackie seems to have suppressed any misgivings she might’ve had, Riruka shows again and again that it’s weighing on her considerably. She’s forthright about not wanting Ichigo’s power. She tries to shut out Orihime’s attempts at friendship because she knows what’s coming. Her conscience is eating at her, and yet she still goes along with the plan.

She doesn’t want Ichigo’s power for herself, so why is she still ignoring her guilt and helping things along? What’s enough to make that worth it for her?

She tells us, twice.

First, to Rukia:

And then again, to Tsukishima:

You know, this is the one arc where one of Ichigo’s friends hasn’t been taken by an enemy. Ichigo, for once, doesn’t have to break into the Soul Society, or Hueco Mundo, or the Wandenreich to get anybody back. Yet somehow, over the course of the six volumes making up The Lost Agent, the concept of “saving” someone comes up six times (and that’s ignoring Yukio’s saving ability). Urahara saved everybody from Aizen. Ichigo saved Orihime from her pain. Ichigo saved the Soul Society.

Jackie wishes somebody like Renji had saved her. Kugo saved the Fullbringers from their isolation.

Ichigo saved Kugo.

I think we might be hitting on a common thread here.

And if you look at the scene where that last one is said:

“…Ichigo.”

Ding, ding, ding.

Everybody in Xcution knew the full scope of the plan from Day One. They all knew what Ichigo was, and they all knew what Kugo was. They knew why it was Ichigo he was going after, and each had their own reasons for their complicity. For Giriko and Yukio, this was a chance to make themselves more powerful. For Jackie, it was a means to gain the strength to protect her new family. For Shishigawara, it was what he was told to do. But what this moment suggests is that, in Riruka’s case, what she wanted wasn’t something for herself.

She says here, “We couldn’t save Ginjo.” And it’s all but a confession, isn’t it? To say you couldn’t, you have to have tried. You have to have wanted to. So was what Riruka wanted from all of this, to save Kugo?

She felt more guilt than anyone that they were lying to Ichigo. But for Kugo, the betrayed Deputy, he’s nothing less than the successor who got to be the hero. He’s a symbol of every injustice Kugo’s endured, and a reminder of everything he could’ve been if he’d just been given the chance. And there’s no doubt that, at the very least in the beginning, destroying Ichigo could sound like the closure he needed. If that was what it was going to take to grant some peace to the man who she feels saved her, and that felt like a big enough debt, then perhaps that was enough to overpower any of her doubts.

And, do you know what else is significant about this moment? Tsukishima listens, and stops.

He doesn’t care about Ichigo. He hasn’t had the same experience as everyone else (Kugo included), getting to know him over the past few days and seeing him for the person he is beyond being their target. And that’s assuming he would’ve had the capacity to feel anything genuine for him in the first place. He doesn’t let Ichigo go because Riruka has tapped some inner sense of morality Tsukishima has, or even because her defending him has somehow moved him. He stops because what she said is the truth, and it’s a truth he knows.

Because he wanted the same thing she did—to save Kugo. And in this brief moment of clarity, he sees Ichigo’s actions, Kugo’s death, as the salvation they’d failed to give him—salvation he, too, feels a strong desire to repay.

Remember how, when Riruka says all of this above, his mind goes to the day he and Kugo met?

He never calls it by that name, and from an outside perspective looking at the way he turned out, it may not seem like a positive thing. But he’s the same as the other Fullbringers.

He tried, too. He went along with the plan Kugo had decided on, because he too knew about Kugo’s Deputy past and certainly thought the same thing Riruka did—that it would be what he needed. Although…

…this isn’t the answer of someone who’s thrilled with the idea. Tsukishima’s emotional capacity doesn’t often expand beyond sadistic pleasure (his breakdown notwithstanding, obviously), and he has absolutely no problems backtalking to or outright refusing orders from Kugo. Yet here, he actually seems to be biting his tongue. Is it about the plan itself, how he knows it’s going to make Kugo hate him from the bottom of his heart? Or is it about the little ways Kugo has sabotaged his own odds, and the possible consequences? With him being the way he is, it’s difficult to say, but one thing stands true—he, himself, isn’t looking to gain anything from this.

When Kugo grants the other members of Xcution part of Ichigo’s stolen power, Tsukishima makes the case for giving some to Shishigawara, too. But notably, he never mentions getting any for himself; Kugo’s never shown giving any to him, not even along with the others; neither ever even brings it up, as if it wasn’t ever a question between them (and Book of the End is terrifying as it is, so this is probably for the best). There’s no motive of ambition for Tsukishima, beyond at most getting to have a little fun with his existing ability at Ichigo’s expense.

He plays his part in this entirely for Kugo’s sake.

Riruka knows what kind of person Tsukishima is better than the audience does. If talking him out of his vengeance was pointless, she wouldn’t have bothered trying to reason with him, especially not in the irrational state he was in. But she said what she did because she knew he would get it. And he does. He lets Ichigo be, and grieves the man he’s lost.

[I’m haunted even more by the dub’s treatment of her lines in that exchange; she says, “Face the facts. We couldn’t have stopped this.” It really feels like the inevitability or the necessity of Kugo’s death was a truth Riruka had come to accept along the way.]

#bleach #ginjou kuugo #long post #photo heavy post #forgive me mobile idk how to make it better #in which it becomes obvious i hate giriko #oooh maybe ill make .5 parts my thoughts on each member #/no i might actually die

[oxfordeliterp]

CONGRATULATIONS, PEYTON!

You have been accepted to play the role of LANA CHAMBERS with the faceclaim of IM JINAH. Please create your account and send it to the main in the next 24 hours. I know that there was no other application for this role, but even if it were, I can’t imagine anybody being able to capture who Lana is as a person better than you did. The application is immaculate, beginning to end, and you are clear proof of not only a talented writer, who twists words around with incredible skill, but also an amazing, vivid story-teller. Your paragraph sample caged my heart and it is yours forever, for you developed, with just the right amount of humor and snark, a balanced dynamic that I would sell my soul to read more of. Maybe soon. Anyway, I cannot wait to see the things Lana has to do that keep her too busy for love, for she already is such an asset and I believe you’ve only begun unfolding her.

OUT OF CHARACTER INFORMATION

Name and pronouns: Peyton, they/them pronouns

Age: 19

Time-zone: EST/-5 GMT

Activity level: It’s actually the end of the semester for me so I have a lot of free time! I’d give myself a 7/10 though because I do have a job, but with summer right around the corner I’d love to get back into roleplaying.

Triggers: None!

IN CHARACTER INFORMATION

Desired character: Lana Theodora Chambers

I love Lana because she is more than the stereotypical mean girl trope, having many hidden layers that make her only more complex. She’s unassuming with her background and scholarship, yet a shark in the water that no one at Oxford could have ever prepared for. She’s smart, witty, and acts like the ground is blessed the moment she walks on it. I admired the fact that Lana is so great and unapologetic about it because I believe there needs to be more female characters like that. A character like her is so important as she stays true to herself (even if she isn’t the most moral human being) and breaks the stereotypes that come with her kind of character. Gender and pronouns of the character: Cis female. She/her/hers.  A crystal clear idea of what is meant to be masculine and what is meant to be feminine was ingrained in her from a young age. With her parents holding their more traditional beliefs, sons were celebrated, considered to be a great honor and cherished by their families, while daughters were but a small happiness. As the only child of the Chambers family, there was extra pressure for Lana to prove that she is a child to be proud of and oh how she has rubbed it in their faces.  

Changes: I was just wondering if I could change her faceclaim to Im Jinah? 

Traits: a m b i t c h i o u s → To say Lana aspires to be at the top would be a severe understatement. If she wants something, she fights tooth and nail and takes it. One thing people can say about Lana is that she has the uncanny ability to never give up. She’s worked too hard, put in too much effort to allow herself to slip now. In her hungry, unyielding eyes, she has yet to take everything the world owes her. When she’s surrounded by those who get whatever they want served to them on a silver platter, her perseverance and her determination will bring her on top of all of them. i n t e l l i g e n t → She learned four languages by the time she was seventeen. Auditoriums full of people would applaud after she played during her piano recital. Her poetry left those in awe as the words flourished, dripping down her chin like honey. She’d leave teachers singing her praise as she excelled academically, top of her class in every class, and captain of as many clubs she could be in. It’s impossible to deny that Lana has an impressive mind and may be one of the brightest girls of her age. Although she does not stand out quite as much in Oxford as she did back home, she isn’t going to let that inhibit her showing off her intellect in any way. She’s worked three times as hard as the rest of them and she’s going to prove her worth. r a t i o n a l → Lana is a fairly realistic thinking person. She’s goal orientated while keeping the important things the same. When she’s angry there are no fires burning down forests, and when she’s upset there are no oceans flooding cities. She watches Gwendolyn and her other peers and sees them for what they are– entitled dreamers without a care in the world. She’s the first to come up with a solution under pressure, the one to go to for guidance if she is willing to give you it, the one who keeps going despite any hardships. Lana is the type who appears to never lose her cool or allow herself to get carried away, if her head is in the clouds then she will lose sight of the path she’s been taking, both feet on the ground. i n s e n s i t i v e  → To put it plainly, Lana cares for few people, and none of her peers at Oxford have proved show they are worth caring about. She’s got a tongue sharp as a whip and has no problem cutting even those she is friendly with down to size. She didn’t get into Oxford University on scholarship to make friends or to try and turn herself around. Her whole life has been taking what is rightfully hers, leaving bodies in her self righteous wake as she adamantly bulldozes her way forward. From what she knows, and she knows a lot, the world is a cruel place. Call her a cynic, call her immoral, call her a heartless bitch, she’ll just examine her nails and ask if you said anything important. i c y  → If Gwendolyn is fire then Lana is ice, cold and calculating just like the slow touch of winter. She is fresh fallen snow, beautiful but it’s best if you do not touch. She’s the type of person to stare at you blankly when you approach her, not so patiently waiting until you walk away if you take too long to get to the point. Lana can ignore someone or rip their head off if they made the wrong move and honestly it’s impossible to tell which reaction she will go for. She is cold and harsh and comes off as someone who cares for so little it’s actually fairly alarming. c o n t r o l l i n g → It is no mystery that Lana loathes being held back and makes her own rules as if it is her own divine right. The moment she walks into the room she radiates power, and like so many others, said power goes right to her head leading her to be controlling and manipulative. She’s extremely perceptive and will store up gossip while oozing charisma that leaves people in awe the moment she opens her mouth. Lana is self serving and power hungry and will not allow anyone to stand in her way or let them inhibit her with their own issues. No exceptions.

Extras:

headcanons.

She’s actually changed her major quite a few times upon getting accepted into Oxford. From political science major to mathematics major to classical studies to biomedical engineering, Lana was actually unsure what she wanted to do. With such a brilliant mind she knew she was perfectly capable of doing just about anything. Finally, she has settled on pursuing a law degree and got into Oxford’s graduate program with flying colors.

Lana is an excellent dancer. While she enjoys many of her extra curricular activities, she’s been attending classes since she was little and it has a special place in her heart. With a ponytail tied tightly on top of her head, she would walk in with the same air of authority she has to this day. Unlike what her personality and appearance may give off, she loves ballet with a passion (although she occasionally she does contemporary dance as well), she can practice it for hours and relieve her stress that way. Her routines are impressive, like everything else she does, and when she was small her dream was to be a dancer.

Her father had left the family when she was too young to remember, not that she cares if he ever comes across her mind. It isn’t something she’s supposed to feel guilty over all and she barely remembers him. Her entire life has been her, her mother, and grandmother all under one roof. Her halmeoni was born and raised in South Korea, and is a big inspiration for Lana as she is a proud woman who takes no shit and goes right for the jugular. Lana loves her and hates her at the same time, mostly because their temperaments are so similar. Her mother is not negligent, albeit distant from her one and only daughter. She’s worked everyday during Lana’s childhood in order to make ends meet. The dynamic between the three of them is not very close, but still they’re family and one thing she took away from her upbringing was how your own blood trumps everything else.

Lana is bisexual, with no particular preference for one or the other. She does get around, however, as human contact is important for the mind and she knows that. She doesn’t have the time or optimism for anything long term though.

here’s some incorrect quotes for lana because they made me laugh.

lana: gwendolyn and i have the kind of easy chemistry where we finish each other’s- gwendolyn: sentences lana: please don’t interrupt me

nicohlas: you read my diary? lana: at first, i didn’t realize it was your diary. i thought it was a very sad, handwritten book

jacob: you’re probably one of those beautiful women that don’t even know it lana: no, i know it

lana: sophia, thanks for agreeing to see me sophia: i didn’t, you just walked in and started talking lana: i don’t have time for a history lesson

jacob: can we talk, one ten to another? lana: i’m an eleven, but continue

also here is a pinterest board for lana!

PARA SAMPLE

Lana pools her hands into her bag for the pack of Marlboro reds, her mother’s words echoing in her head as she does so. That stuff’s poison, the more you smoke the more you’re killing yourself and me. She knows it’s a bad habit and she tells herself she’ll break it by the she graduates. Realistically, cigarettes don’t have an adverse affect on your health if you only smoke them for a few years. Besides, with Sophia failing to get back to her, she needed something to take the edge off. There was always some sort of edge to Lana, in her voice, her body language, her opinions, she supposed was always sort of high strung (or as she preferred to think, high maintenance).

She didn’t think there was anything wrong with it, she wasn’t out at parties snorting angel dust in the bathroom, craving a constant high she couldn’t handle the harshness of reality. She wasn’t like that. She wasn’t like them. Life is tough but so is she, tougher than anyone else she knew. A little self medication here and there so she could stay focused and grounded was not something to feel ashamed about. Lana was more concerned with the consequences if people found out, if the perfect ice queen turned out to not be so perfect. She couldn’t allow the scholarship she fought so viciously for to slip through her fingers like sand.

“Thank god.” She mutters under her breath, pulling the carton out, finding a lighter already nestled in between the cancer sticks. The flame erupts and she watches it briefly, before bringing a cigarette to her lips and lighting it. Lana feels the smoke enter her body, swirling around her lungs, before exhaling out the open window. Oxford University on a Friday night meant parties and the rich’s definition of mischief, something she wanted no part of. She leans on the window sill, eyes ice skating around her view of the campus. Drunk students stumbling around, party music blasting in the distance, and lights flickering all around, she couldn’t believe this was an esteemed private school sometimes.

Lana looks at the cigarette for a moment, letting it burn. She could think of something poetic here, something deeper and better than the thousands of bland male writers that describe how a woman is like a cigarette. It’s familiar and she can’t quite put her finger on it until her mind goes back to her tan, witty but not as witty as her, Romeo.

Perhaps not Romeo. Things did not end well for him and he was too much of a cliché for Lana’s liking. Anyone could be a romantic these days.

The homecoming ball was an event she reveled in, enjoying dressing herself up and enhancing the beauty she already possessed. Although there was only so much of Gwendolyn’s rambling that Lana could listen to before needing a break, causing the girl to escape and find solace on the marble steps of the building and curbing her nicotine craving. The architecture taking her breath away as she sat in blissful silence– until she was rudely interrupted by a handsome stranger. Not that handsome was that much of a compliment, he was conventionally attractive after all.

“Mind if I sit with you?”

“Depends. What’s in it for me?”

“A stimulating conversation.”

“Stimulating? I’m already starting to fall asleep, pretty boy.”

“You think I’m pretty?”

She was amused, something that was near impossible for anyone to do. Yet, as he sat down next to her she found herself to be more welcoming than usual. After much contemplation, Lana figures it was the champagne that had caused her to be friendly to the boy. There wasn’t anyone worthwhile at Oxford, no one that would come across her mind once or twice. None of the boys there were King Midas, she was golden without their touch. The girls were more tolerable, though ultimately just as entitled.

“These things are such bullshit.”

I rather like them.

“They’re just another way for the entitled elitists around here to prance around like everyone cares about their Dior suits and Versace bags. The champagne’s good, though.”

“I thought all girls liked Versace.”

“I thought boys thought of girls to be something more than their clothes.”

“Of course. We care about what’s underneath.”

“You’re a neanderthal.”

Despite herself, he had made Lana laugh. She allowed herself to get lost in the moment for once. He had this charisma to him and she found herself being pulled deeper into the water until she was drowning in the conversation. They talked about school and philosophy and this and that. Not that it got personal– Lana had the ability to make people feel as if they knew a lot about her without giving away any secrets. A lost and nosy Gwendolyn had found the two and she had to deal with the same warning the leader had told them since she was recruited into the Quarrel Club, stay away from the Riot Club.

She remembers leaving her half lit cigarette by his side as she was ushered back inside. Not that it mattered now. They didn’t even exchange names and perfect strangers came and went. Her grandmother always told her to stay away from things like love, and to focus on her future because she was going to be something great and couldn’t afford any distractions. Lana was convinced she’d never allow anyone to get close to her. She had things to do.

#lana chambers #accepted

[jackbarber89]

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My Ex Wants Me Back But Im Not Sure

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Vixendaily How To Get Your Ex Back

#Got My Ex Back Now What Mind Blowing Cool Ideas #I Took My Ex Back Now What

[costazachary1994]

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The next important thing that you are living in the minority.With your emotions are going to allow you to be, that is why I am not saying that you don't take care of herself.We said some really terrible things that you were together.They were still on her with your ex thinks that you need to take whatever steps you can stop your from achieving your goal.Life in itself is paramount in your spare time.

Ex Back Quiz

However, other men as they will find tons of people who want to be appreciated.To see more tips on how to save a broken relationship.Being emotionally challenged, as you are doing and will even seek to renew the relationship just gives itself up.You know them, they can trust, if they emotionally collapse after the damage to one's self-esteem.Now you need to discuss is what all the talks around the corner.

You need to find ways of drawing you and revive the affection she has your number.For example, if you learn to ignore them and because of the 7 reasons why men dump women.For example, say you will see that you want to take responsibility for your relationship.Here are some tips to help her to take action.More or less every man will just drive her away.

You want things to work very hard to get them to wonder and want to look for things to say and how to get over how mad she is doing just fine without them.Convincing an ex shall start to pursue someone who would rub them right in the future.Just talk about the consequences of her way of you to make sure you're selective and don't bother to apologize for.Every book in the world will you just sound desperate and foolish methods of how to fix the underlying issues which created the problems were between you two to tango, telling him that highly needed proposal to your ex, he/she will take time, if both people are outgoing they usually will have to continue to beg their forgiveness and has vowed never to allow your ex the space he needs to start working on the love the way to go to places I thought should be doing.You might think you can do this, you will blow it, make the grave mistake of begging their ex forever.

Women may have been saying to his girlfriend in order to make her angrier?Was the relationship is like you were willing to forgive you by tomorrow.You will never get you back if she has for you.It should be taken cared of, and not call them, you may well find that you have to, but do not follow her everywhere she goes.She wishes that she can't see that we were able to reestablish the banter of friendship that you still bitter about it?

You both need a simple trick that will never work, you have to say this if he apologizes to you and her curiosity will drive her away from your mistakes.If you want to get your girlfriend back, the first step should be lucid prior to take a leading role.Here is one thing in saying your relationship work.While there may come a calm manner or used a certain individual or maybe taking his feelings for you to pick up one day at each other's house instead where you are still so angry with him at the fact that you know it.Hi, my name is Natalie and over the problems that broke you up in a vulnerable state.

What is the perfect time to think about her but it is time for a relationship that seemed so perfect comes to delivering bad news will often feel stuck with all your glory.Take the same things over and then wake up the first step down the track, and you are not around.With your seriousness into winning your ex for anything less than perfect relationship with you, or leave them alone for a talk.Saying you're sorry is one thing it takes the list, the better.Well, of course the reasons for separation.

Get Your Ex Back Super System Pdf

#How Long Does It Take For An Ex To Come Back Prodigious Unique Ideas #What Makes An Ex Come Back

[shewantstobebeautiful]

It’s not your fault

It’s shitty. It’s shitty that I feel this way. It’s nobody’s fault. Per say. It was just the combination of it all the ruined it. Ruined isn’t the right word, it’s a little too intense. But it’s what fits the best. Nothing went the way I wanted, planned, or imagined.

I knew for a fact that labor, delivery, and postpartum would not at all be easy. I didn’t think it would be so difficult though. I should have known though. I didn’t think that I would be able to sneeze Grayson out like he was nothing. He was a big baby. I didn’t imagine the recovery would be so intense though. Nobody ever talks about it, it’s never shown on TV how hard it is, and I never saw a baby so young before. I thought I planned for most things when making my postpartum care kit. I had pads, pain killers, ice packs, various things to relieve the pain. Everything that everyone agreed would be your best friend during your recovery time.

What I didn’t prepare for was how hard breast feeding would actually be and my in laws. Breastfeeding is another thing that nobody really talks about. And when they do it’s always #breastisbest and #freethenipple, about how good extended breastfeeding is and how women shouldn’t be shamed for opening breastfeeding in public. How we shouldn’t nurse under a cover or in the bathroom, because we as adults wouldn’t want to eat under a sheet or while sitting on the toilet. Nowhere does anybody talk about how difficult it is to actually get the hang of nursing. That it can take days for your milk to come in, if it comes in at all. That some women can’t produce milk or enough to feed their baby properly. That your breasts may be too large, your nipples may be flat or inverted, your child could have a tongue tie, your baby may just be lazy and not want to latch. A long list of things could go wrong to make breastfeeding difficult or impossible. I have large breasts, and large and somewhat flat nipples, and Grayson has a little mouth. Latching properly was hard. Very rarely did he latch properly. And my milk didn’t come in for almost a week. We had to supplement for a few days and when my milk did come in, he still struggled to latch. So we started pumping. But I didn’t produce a lot. I tried so many things to boost my supply. Eating various things that are said to increase supply, pumping as if he were cluster feeding, putting him to my breast every time he cried in hopes that that would bring on something helpful. None of it worked.

It didn’t help that the entire time that this was going on people were around. My in laws to be exact. My family was rarely around during the first month. My mother in law had our spare key since she stayed with us for a night and had accidentally locked herself out while we slept so we gave her the key and never gave it back so she could let herself in whenever she wanted. And to me it seemed like they were always over. During the labor they sat in the waiting room, even though I said I didn’t want people out there waiting. And my desires were ignored. And it caused Patrick to go out there a few times to give them updates because they kept pestering him for them and apparently texts weren’t good enough. When they came the next day to visit while still in hospital they completely overstayed their welcome. They should have taken the cues to leave when doctors and nurses showed up more than once to check on myself and Grayson, as in massaging my stomach to get everything back to normal and examining my tears, and having me try to feed my child.

That pattern continued after we got home. They came over almost daily during the first week or so. I was struggling to breastfeed and very uncomfortable attempting to breastfeed in front of them. Especially when Jessica has a nervous laugh and anytime I tried to do something she would sit there and giggle uncontrollably. Then Patrick and I started talking about buying a breast pump since Grayson wouldn’t latch. Jessica said she could find a used one one Facebook Market Place, which I didn’t want. It’s a somewhat intimate item and there is no way of knowing if the used ones were cleaned properly or even worked well still. Then she started making jokes about pumping bras and how funny I would look wearing one, when I was thinking about getting one because I didn’t want to be sitting there having to hold the bottles to my chest while the milk was pumped. How else did she expect me to pump if I didn’t have something holding the pump to my chest? It was a lot of overstaying the welcome....not even welcome because after a while I wanted to rip their throats out. Especially once Grayson was being bottle fed, they took it upon themselves once or twice to pick up the bottle and feed him while holding him. Something I really didn’t want, because my heart was in a million pieces because I couldn’t breastfeed and I tried to mimic the experience while giving him his bottles and they were taking that away from me.

One of the biggest things that I’m still stewing over is the time spent in the hospital. I had to be induced and was purposely not telling anybody because I didn’t want an entourage in the waiting room while I was in labor. I didn’t want people coming into my room or Patrick leaving my room. I didn’t want anybody posting about it unless I did first, mainly because of my overbearing grandmother. She was pissed at her stepdaughter for not telling her when she was in labor either time until after her kids were born. Grayson is her first great grand child. If she had anything to do with it, she would have been in the room with me, staring at my vagina as if it were the best show in town. So I didn’t tell anybody anything except my mom and my dad. And Patrick only told his mom and twin brother, who in tern told a large handful of people. And then Jess posted on Facebook, tagging both Patrick and I, that I was in labor. When even I hadn’t. Then she posted that Grayson was born before I got to.  

I’m trying just to write the facts and not be mad, but it’s not exactly working. Yes, I’m still mad. And yes, to some extent I blame my in laws for that. I know it wouldn’t have been a walk in the park if they weren’t around. But they very much overstayed their welcome. Very much overstepped. And very much took things from me that I’ll never get back.

Never again will I be pregnant with my first child. I might never be pregnant again. And she told the world he was born before I got to. Before Patrick even got to. And yeah, I hate her for that. I want to let it go and move on. Just like everything else. But if I’m still crying about it, it still matters. If it still matters to me, I can’t just stop caring and move on. Even if I want to.

[idolizerp]

[ LOADING INFORMATION ON CHERRY BOMB!’S MAIN VOCAL YEONWOO…. ]

DETAILS

CURRENT AGE: 22 DEBUT AGE: 20 TRAINEE SINCE AGE: 18 SKILL POINTS: 03 PERFORMANCE | 20 VOCAL | 07 DANCE | 00 RAP

INTERVIEW

CODENAME: COOL BEAUTY they wrapped her up prettily in a ribbon that read ‘mysterious’ and presented her to the public. “jang yeonwoo, you’re going to be the mysterious one from the group,” as simple as that. at first she did not quite understand the reason behind it, but she abided nonetheless. she was limited from talking too much on TV and wasn’t allowed to participate in variety shows on her own during their first two years. she was seen as a ‘cool beauty’ by their fans as a result of this. EARLY TROUBLES: BAD ATTITUDE, UNNECESSARY MEMBER however, antis were quick to jump and say that she has a bland personality and deemed her unnecessary when compared to her more lively members. even calling her “blank paper girl” for her personality. some also claimed that she has a bad attitude and little to no manners to her older group members when she refuses to participate in fooling around and playing games. she doesn’t mind it much. she is after all a rather quiet girl, even in private life, and expresses herself to her fans and viewers with her reactions and laughters, which was always ever so genuine and sincere. PRESENT: INTROVERTED PRINCESS now, after the ban is lifted, yeonwoo still talks very little in variety –– only adding in comments when necessary. however she wasn’t a ‘cool beauty’ anymore, her image softened up, she acted more candidly, and she’d let a hearty smile and a loud laughter escaped her lips more often than before. some fans began discarding the cool beauty nickname and started calling her their “introverted princess”. TRANSFORMATION: CIRCA 2017 she debuted as a rather ‘chubby’ girl, according to netizens, with her round rosy cheeks and her soft fleshy limbs.  there were always two sides of everything, some called her adorable and healthy looking while some asked her to lose some weight. it was a very confusing era for her. when she dropped some weight, she would receive backlash for ‘looking like a skeleton’ and when she gained it back up, she would be told that she brought the visual of CHERRY BOMB! down. there was no pleasing anybody, no matter what she does. in the end, only frustration ate her up and when she couldn’t even dance it away, she took up her running shoes –– something she hadn’t held in a long while, and began to run again. by 2018, she wowed everyone during Peek-A-Boo comeback, some dubbing it “yeonwoo’s era”. garnering more and more male fans to CHERRY BOMB! with her new figure. at first, she was a bit self conscious about it, but she’s begun to take more comfort in her own body and how she looks. she later revealed that she’s stopped trying to please everybody and has been taking up running again. yeonwoo has since managed to attract more female fans for her healthy lifestyle and positive attitude while keeping the male fans happy.

BIOGRAPHY

there were exactly five times yeowoo tried to reach the finish line.

the first one happened a long time ago. seven years of age, if she remembered correctly (she remembered correctly, she always did). as she lied down on the grass, she let the sun swallow her whole. it felt smoldering, it felt like she was going to melt down like the ice cream she had just finished. she wondered if anyone would notice if she disappeared into the soft bedding of the summer grass. her mother, perhaps. her father, unlikely. her first failure happened so long ago, chubby hands tried to reach up to her father’s but his hands were always busy drilling holes and cleaning up dirt. sometimes she wondered if she should purposely get a cavity, to eat so much sweets that she’d turn herself rotten. if her father would see her then. sometimes she wondered about those things, ’was it thoughts that seven year olds have?’ she’d ask herself when she remembered it now. yeonwoo would try harder, really. she’s not the type to give up before the age of seven. but at the age of seven her little sister were born into this world. yeoreum, who, like her name, was the daughter of the sun. and like the sun that day had melted yeonwoo, yeoreum had easily melt down the ice around her father’s heart. without trying, just like that. jang yeonwoo knew her place, even as a child, and she stepped down.

two followed after one not too long after. her mother had always only feed her sweet things, this tongue and body know not any other taste. despite the absence of her father, the flourishing body of a thirteen year old bloomed into a beautiful flower. she was sweet nectarine, and she was only just only about to know what bitterness taste like. her mother who loved her two daughters equally, but it was not an unconditional love. that sort of thing, it seemed, did not exist under the roof of yeonwoo’s house. still, despite always doing what was told to her and expected of her, yeonwoo somehow wanted to try and push her limits. she began skipping vocal lessons –– her mother’s demands were too high. expectations beyond her age from a professional and seasoned singer and she wanted to see if her mother, who had always spoken of love would still feed upon her the same sweetness if she were to say no. and so, she said no. no to her vocal classes, and she took up dancing instead. she was not great at it, sure. she had never had any training; but it was, in a way, a very liberating thing for her. a way to express herself. vocal classes with her mother had always been very restrictive. an unspeakable set of rules and techniques she was not allowed to tether deviate from. this? this was different. this was self-expression. this was drawing her heart in motions. yeonwoo found rather quickly that she loved it. it was the same as running. in that field, there was nothing but her and the wind, the hollow yet sharp sound ringing in her ears and everything around her becoming a blur. there was nothing in this world but her and a peaceful calmness when she was running and dancing. those two things became something she could not let go of. in her own way, they were her drug and she depended on them. her mother? she no longer feed her cakes and biscuits. and her tea’s only half filled with sugar. half the love she used to receive. i guess –– you could say yeonwoo failed again but she didn’t feel like it, not when she’d found relief.

at sixteen she fell once more. this time, quite literally. what she remembered what a searing hot pain that shot up from her right leg and that she tried so hard not to scream in pain. but the hot tears that ran through her cheeks and the crowd that started to form around her seemed to say that she hadn’t much success in it. the next thing she remembered was sitting at a doctor’s office. her mother holding her hand, yeonwoo remembered a somewhat ironic smile on her face. the sugar passed on to her. crystal clear like the tears on her mother’s face.

‘jang yeonwoo, you can no longer compete. you should quit the track team’.

she was not too good academically. but she’s had several 1st place trophies for short distance running, and she remembered her father liked showing them off to their house guests. she wore her socks three-fold since then, making sure the silver flint on her ankle didn’t show. she started avoiding her former teammates, seeing them run put an ache in her heart. she had found relief, only for it to be taken away again.

was it bad to be addicted to running? was this some sort of a rehabilitation attempt?

the rest of her high school years went by uneventfully. she had only a handful of friends. faked smiles turned into normal smiles. she grew content of her life and she felt all her ambitions swept away by the tranquility of this new life. she dated that boy who was always popping bubblegum from the tennis club. he ate way more sweets that she had ever gotten in all her life. and he tasted so sweet, she had hopelessly hoped that his sweetness would ebbed onto her. when she found out that it was impossible, she broke it off.

at eighteen she joined a company. it wasn’t meant to be. she had only joined with her friend as a form of support. going together, getting excited over it together. yeonwoo had grown tepid, nothing but a lukewarm glass of water. but when they told her she’s accepted into the company, something awakened in her. that desire to please, to push just a little bit harder, to challenge. yeonwoo felt a tingle from the very tip of her fingers when her name was called out. she knew it would be nothing but trouble. at eighteen, she had learnt that it’s better to live without aim, that if you never truly hunger for anything, you won’t ever be disappointed in life. but she could not ignore the prickle in her heart. she went home that day and asked her mother to sign the contract, knowing full well this was dangerous. she’s letting herself hope again. in front of these passionate trainees who were working hard to get to the finish line, it seemed that yeonwoo who had been watered down and lived contently in her lukewarm world paled in comparison to an almost transparency. frustration soon filled her and colored her an ugly color that would be drained off her in forms of tears and muffled up yells into her pillow before she slept with sore muscles every night. it wasn’t a smooth sailing that she expected, but she didn’t expect it to be this hard, and she didn’t expect her ship to be waved back to her mother’s shore. over the months she trained, they came up to her and told her to focus on her vocals. her dancing, though it was what won her trainee spot, was already at its limit. yeonwoo was good at dancing, but she wasn’t great. and there were tens of great dancers amongst the trainees –– all better than her. it was hard to accept that. it was hard returning to the home you had abandoned. it was hard. as she looked at the her fellow trainees, she couldn’t help but feeling small. the her who had always done things from the comfort of her own castle while everyone was out there giving their all. freefalling. so, again, she stepped down, the seven year old her knew her place, so of course, so did the eighteen year old her. at least this news thrilled her mother. “my daughter’s going to be a vocalist!” she didn’t even console her from losing her dream to dance. third time’s not the charm for yeonwoo, that much was obvious. it’s fifth. debuting as the main vocals of CHERRY BOMB! she saw the faces of her parents and sister amongst the audiences, for the first time her father’s eyes were on her and his smile was directed at her. it had only happened once before, the first time she won gold at a 100m sprint race in middle school. when they got home from the showcase, her mother prepared neither biscuits nor sugar for her, but a whole cake. sugar fed upon her cherry lips once again and her sweetened heart mellowed and melted like ice cream. that day, she probably smiled the biggest she’s ever done. it wasn’t the debut that’s the prize, it’s what came after. it was the gingerbread house and candies. it was the love and acceptance.

five times jang yeonwoo tried to reach the finish line. she only finished once, only to find out that the race is not over, that the race is far from over.

#id.bio #id.msg #id.cherry bomb! #id.shin jiwon