#I’m still thinking about mine but I like to think they mostly focus on textures rather than taste

[hellothere-generalangsty]

Gloved hand (Crosshair)

Summary: Crosshair found a way to get rid of his chip, and went looking for his brothers in the depot, fully aware of the confrontation that would follow.

No pairing or reader description, only the member of the Batch

Word count: 2761

CW/TW: ANGST; Death, trauma, guilt, violent memories/ nightmares, burns/scar, some swearing; I don’t know how graphic my style is, so if I forgot anything please tell me!

Tags: @allamarisss @loth-wolffe @imalovernotahater (you all asked 🤧)

@razena88 @m-o-o-n-s-g-o-o-n-s (non of you asked but I thought you'd want to check it out since you reacted to my Crosshair post; if you don't want to be tagged just tell me and I'll remove it !)

Notes: I had to. Because you’re all nice and I love pain, so here is the Sad Hour: Crosshair Edition™; Enjoy! (aka, I hope you’ll suffer a bit)

PS: sorry about the little dots when I skip a line, it’s the only way I could well...skip a line. I’ll try to find another way for the future!

PPS: The Neighbourhood - Roll Call is the song I listened to while writing this 🤭

______________________________________

He knew they were waiting on him, on the move he would make. They didn’t know about his chip being removed – not yet – and he knew he only had one shot.

How ironic.

He was still wearing the Imperial armour, face covered by his helmet, rifle attached to his back. He could see the way Hunter tightened his fingers around the trigger, and he recognised that look; the one he usually gave to his opponents before he killed them. He could get away; Hunter was a good shooter and his senses did helped for that; but Crosshair was the marksman. He guessed by a simple look at the scenery that the shot would crush through his pectoral plates, and given the distance and the type of blaster, it would surely shake him out, but it wouldn’t kill him.

As much as he sucked at it, he had to resort to words. He wasn’t the Empire’s puppet anymore, and trying once again to threaten them…It was simply out of the question.

Slowly, he raised his hands to his helmet, grabbing the lower part of it. He waited a second, not sure about the short moment where his vision would be obstructed.

Come on, you don’t get to worry about getting shot. Take the damn bucket off.

He pushed it up his head, briefly closing his eyes as a ridiculous way to sooth his morbid thoughts. When he opened them up again, Hunter hadn’t moved an inch. He didn’t know how much time he had, so Crosshair dared to take a step forward. Then another, holding his helmet in one hand, keeping the other one on the plastoid covering his chest, gently taping it with a gloved finger.

He stopped at the fourth step. The Batchers tensed up, unsure of what his next move would be. Crosshair knew what he was doing.

T’s your time to shine, Cross.

“DC-17. Round it down to a 7 meters distance from the target, slightly move your arm to your left.” He taped on a small spot of his chest plate, never breaking eye contact with Hunter. “Make me proud.”

It was a bold move, he knew it too damn well. He forced himself to maintain eye contact with them, with him, as much as it scared the crap out of him. As much as he hoped, deep down, for his brother to take pit-

.

 It was quick, bright. Finger pressed against the trigger, Hunter noticed every wave in the sound of the shot as it echoed in the depot. He followed the blue deflagration as it got spit out of his blaster, sliding the air in a thin whistling, brushing past Crosshair’s left arm, hitting another clone further behind.

He didn’t know if it was the right decision; but he knew enough about Crosshair to try it.

“I said ‘to your left’” was the only thing that came out of Crosshair’s mouth as he turned his head to look at the man lying on the floor a few meters behind him. He wasn’t dead, and now they had to quickly evacuate.

But Cross was alive. For now.

“Tech, get in there and be ready to take off when I tell you to! Wrecker, you cover us. Crosshair.”

The sniper pulled out his own blaster, back turned to the Batchers, ready to shoot any intruder trying to rip him away from his family once again. He soon felt a firm hand grasping his shoulder and dragging him back. He didn’t fight it, didn’t look at it. His focus was on the men running in the depot, on the way he hit them with such precision it almost felt too easy.

He was the last one to get in the Havoc Marauder, still shooting as the door closed shut in front of him.

.

 “…Crosshair?”

His heart pounded so hard in his chest that for a moment, he thought it might go through the plastoid armour and crush against the wall. There was the next move. So easy to execute, yet so terrifying.

“Crosshair, look at us.”

It was the tone; too formal, almost polite. He hated it. But he obeyed anyway, slowly turning around to face his tattooed brother.

Don’t look down. Don’t look down and cut that crap.

Hunter remained silent for a moment, examining Crosshair’s face scarred by burns, his new shaved side and white patch on the side of his head. The violent pumping and barely shaky breath told him more than the stoic eyes he was staring at.

“How’d you do it?”

“A droid helped.” Hunter’s nod was the only answer he got.

Keep talking, di’kut.

“I-”

“I missed you.” confessed Wrecker. “I think we all did.”

Now it was his turn to nod. What could he possibly answer? ‘I missed you too, but mostly because my chip made me want to kill you.’?

You didn’t wanted it, you had no choice.

“You didn’t have a choice,” Echo got a bit closer to him, even though he couldn’t tell if it was a good idea. “We know you didn’t.”

“Now that you removed your chip, you’re out of risks.” commented Tech, trying to comfort him a bit.

Each second passing was getting him closer to the edge. He wasn’t looking at faces, he was looking at phantom targets, still feeling the stings stabbing his brain every time he hesitated before shooting at them. Their voices were hardly getting to him, they were so distant, probably a faint memory from a time where he still had control.

“…get you something to eat, and you’ll go take a shower. Works for you?”

“Yes, Sarge.”

He knew the small clap on his shoulder was more of a friendly kind than a brotherly one. He hated it. He deserved it.

.

.

 He never felt that uncomfortable while eating with someone before. Even lunches on Kamino’s cantina weren’t as awkward. Tech tried to initiate a small talk, mentioning their next mission, the supplies they would need to get, and Omega tried to keep him going by nodding and asking questions he knew were useless.

But really, it was just an excuse to avoid the talk. Given the situation, it would probably hurt less to just… confront him. Tell him he scared them, when he callously ordered Hunter to stand down and surrender, told his troopers to “aim for the kid”. Not that he didn’t know; he found the confession in their eyes every time they would look at him.

He barely ate, rolling a fresh toothpick between his gloved fingers as he weakly chewed on his food.

“I’ll take the first round tonight,” Hunter muttered, mostly for himself.

Crosshair slowly got up from his seat, putting his ration away, trying to avoid the stares. He slid his toothpick between his lips, nibbling a bit harder than usual on the wooden texture. All he had to do was turn around and leave the cockpit. He had done it countless time by the past, what’s one more?

He wanted to lay down and sleep his pain away, get drowned in the pillows and forget all about what happened. He took a few steps, pretended he didn’t flinch when a hand caught his own, but couldn’t bring himself to smile at Omega when she gently rubbed his knuckles.

She didn’t say anything, she simply followed him to the bunk beds. Crosshair could barely look at her, because every time he did he could only see the scared look she gave him when he ordered it.

Aim for the kid.

It was haunting; she was just a child, a mixture of a little sister and a daughter for the Batchers, and he tried to rip that away from them too.

His attention shifted to the beds when he noticed the lights around his. He could also see a glimpse of a plush – oddly familiar – and a soft blanket nicely pulled over the mattress.

“We – she needed a place to sleep, and you were gone so…”

Wrecker, who followed him too, was uncomfortable; he was the one who came up with the idea. As much as he missed Crosshair, he knew he needed to take care of his little one because she was here. But now, Cross was back.

“Keep the bed,” he murmured, “I don’t mind.”

And he meant it. He would have done the same if Wrecker, or Echo or whoever went missing like he had. The kid deserved a comfy place to rest, her life with them already being chaotic enough.

“I can sleep with you, I don’t mind. I can stay at the end of the bed if you’d prefe-”

“It’s fine, Omega.”

He painted a weak, yet gentle smile on his face, hoping for it to convince her. It did, because she nodded and held his arm against her for a few seconds as to hug it. Wrecker – and Echo later that night – offered him to sleep in their bed. “I can sleep with Tech if you want it all for yourself” the 501st vet assured him. But Crosshair declined each time, pretending that he would probably not sleep anyway tonight, just tonight, because he needed to get used to this place again.

In a way, it was true. He needed time to find his footing here, to get back to the way things used to be.

Don’t pretend it will go back to ‘how it used to be’. It could never.

.

 When everyone headed to bed, Hunter returned to the cockpit and found the sniper sitting on his own.

“I’ll take the first round, Crosshair. Go get some sleep.”

“I don’t have a bed,” he barely confessed, his usual sarcastic tone nowhere to be found.

“Take mine for now, I don’t need it before a few hours. Don’t discuss it,” he pursued when Crosshair tried to reply, “I’m not giving you a choice.”

It took him a second to realise how clumsy it sounded, but Crosshair spared him the embarrassment of an apology when he got up and nodded.

“Alright, sorry.”

Hunter grabbed his shoulder, unsure about his next move, but trying anyway.

“It’s…We can’t pretend nothing happened, but we’ll work through this. All of us,” and when he heard Crosshair’s heart pumping harder and his breath getting heavier, he added, “as a family.” Before letting go of him.

Crosshair couldn’t even speak anymore. If he tried, all that would come out would be confused babbling and an awkward throat clearing. He hoped on his brother’s heightened senses to read through him like an open book, throwing back one last look before he got back to the bunk beds. All the Batchers were already sleeping, peacefully wrapped in their blankets or holding their plushie against their chest. He sat on the edge of Hunter’s bed, his blacks still on, eyes locked on the soft lights emanating from his old bed.

.

 Hunter woke up when he felt a soft weight landing on his lap. The smell got him almost immediately, a mixture of gunpowder and iron.

“You should have surrendered.”

His eyes shifted to the slim shadow standing a few steps away, lurking on him with cold determination.

“Crosshair?” He looked down at the soft plush laying on him. Lula. Her head was almost ripped in half by a now barely fuming hole. He couldn’t hide the fear splashing his eyes, neither could he refrain his voice from breaking when he asked “what did you do?”

“I did what had to be done. This is why they put me in charge to track you. I’m efficient.”

Hunter shivered at the sick smile he could hear in Crosshair’s voice. His thoughts ran from the plush to Omega, to the bunk beds at the end of the hallway, to his brothers left unarmed at the mercy of a sniper who had none.

“You should have killed me in that depot.”

“Crossha-”

A quick thud filled the cockpit as a red, bright light stroked Hunter right through the chest. He fell back into his seat, unable to breathe, but way too aware of the burn on his skin, of the nerves flaming up under the chock and the heat, of his heart rapidly pulsing then slowing down in a macabre countdown. He got dizzy, eyes blurring out despite his desperate attempt to get them focused.

He struggled to keep his head up, until a gloved hand grabbed his jaw, forcing him to look up. He could guess the shapes of the helmet, the green and grey shades melting altogether as his eyes barely held open. As he felt his own heart stop, his last breath making him chock, he heard his brother’s voice taunting him, one last time.

“Good soldiers follow orders.”

.

.

  Pitch black. This is all Crosshair could see when he abruptly opened his eyes. The blanket was rolled up at his feet, his blacks soaked in sweat, and his head aching. A sudden terror grasped him as he held his temple, tripping off the bed as he tried to get up, muttering Hunter’s name. He choked up on the syllables when he realised he was sleeping in his brother’s bed, while the tracker was nowhere to be found. He found himself struggling for air, the same way he would if someone stabbed him repeatedly in the chest. He dragged himself to the refresher, locking the door as soon as he got in.

The bright light forced him to close his eyes for a few seconds, but once he got used to it he reached the tap. His hands, usually so precise and steady, where uncontrollably shaking, to the point of him getting cramps.

The cold water did nothing to help; he shivered to the wet contact, lightly gasping when he splashed his face, but did it again, and again, trying to wash off the pain of his body.

Did I killed them? Did I? What if I did, what will I do, what if I killed them, I can’t- I can’t lose them, not again, not this way, I-

His head was buried in his hands, and it demanded all his strength for him to look up in the mirror. He quickly regretted doing so.

He hated those scars. Mostly, what they represented, what they meant.

It means you tried to get them burned alive; you ordered for them to be burned alive by an active propeller. This is what they mean, this is what you did.

He hated his reflection, lurking and haunting him the same way his memory did. A phantom pain none of them could imagine.

You like to pretend they don’t get it, but they do. Their own brother tried to kill them. You did that, Crosshair; don’t put the blame on your victims.

“Kriff,” he bitterly chuckled, tears burning his eyes.

You did this to yourself. Take some responsibilities.

He tried to maintain eye contact with himself, fingers gripped so tight around the edge of the sink he could feel his muscles quiver. He didn’t have a choice, he knew that. The chip forced him, the Empire used him to do these terrible things.

If a gloved hand kills you, will you blame the glove, or the hand?

You’re the hand, Crosshair. Nothing you will ever say or do will change that.

Nothing.

“Shut the kriff up,” he gave up, angrily pushing himself away from the sink, but still catching a glimpse of tears running down his cheeks before he turned his head, defeated. “Keep the snide to yourself.”

He jolted when someone softly knocked on the door. He took a few deep breaths to calm down his pumping heart, wiped away the tears with the back of his hand, and opened the door.

“I didn’t find you in the bed,” Hunter explained while analysing his expression, “I thought you’d be in here.”

“I can take the next round.” Crosshair calmly responded.

“Mine’s not done yet.”

“Hunter, please I- let me take the next round.”

He couldn’t say which of the two, his muffled “please” or his begging eyes, convinced Hunter; but it worked and that was enough for him. He didn’t flinch this time, when his brother gently patted his arm; he even wished for a quick, warm embrace. But he doubted Hunter was ready to get affectionate with him so easily. Truth be told, he didn’t feel that comfortable either. It was a crave he couldn’t fill.

He still cracked a weak smile as Hunter nodded and returned to his bed to get some rest.

Crosshair dragged himself to the cockpit, his stomach twisting at the sight of the empty seat on his right. He fell into his own, a long sigh slipping from his lips.

.

Don’t fall asleep.

#I hope you're sad now #I am #crosshair feels #crosshair #tbb fic #the bad batch writing #the bad batch #tbb #tbb crosshair #angst #Sad Hour for Crosshair #poor lil sniper #mesa writes #sad crosshair #sad batch

[get-shiggy-with-it]

#1 Victory Royale

✧ pairing: college student!spinner x student!afab!reader

✧ word count: 4.4k

✧ warnings: college au/no quirks, light angst, mostly soft/fluff, smut, could be hate fucking if you squint, afab reader but no pronouns, this is pretty tame, by like my standards, I wrote this at work, not really a warning, but it felt like you needed to know that

✧ summary: relationships suck and Spinner is starting to think maybe he does too

✧ ao3 mirror

✧ a/n: Hey y'all, welcome back to more college au bs from me. This is set in the same universe once again as all my other college pieces. A very sweet anon asked if we'd ever get to see more of Spinner, so here he is! Also with another cameo from shiggy's bitch (endearing) cause I can't help myself.

“Ughhhhhh….”

Spinner’s groaning echoed through the tiny apartment, the heavy sound of creaking couch cushions under his weight following.

“What?” his long-suffering roommate shouted out their bedroom door, rapidly shoving clothing and a toothbrush into an overnight bag.

“Uggghhhhhhh!”

He let out with another, louder dying animal wail. He’d been like this since they woke up—wallowing in some strange concoction of self pity and Red Bull on the kitchen floor when they walked in for water two hours ago.

“Motherfucker,” they mumbled, tossing their bag to the floor and marching, more than a little disgruntled, into the hall. “What do you want?”

Spinner was sitting upside down on the couch now, feet up against the wall tapestry and cotton candy hair splayed out on the floor. He stared blankly as his friend came into view—arms crossed, frowning at him from the end of the hall—and opened his mouth once more, letting out another garbled grunt that had one of the neighbors pounding twice on the wall to shut his dramatic ass up.

“Dude seriously, are you gonna tell me who pissed in your cereal or are you just gonna scream until the guys next door kick a hole through our wall?”

They almost felt bad as he looked away, sniffing and letting himself slump farther off the sofa until he was sprawled completely on the hardwood and staring, glassy eyed, up at the ceiling.

When he finally spoke a full sentence, his gaze was locked on the water stain above him from a year ago when the upstairs neighbors flooded their apartment trying to make jungle juice in the bathtub.

“I don’t know, I’m just in my feels as the kids say,” he sounded so dejected—strange for someone who was perpetually energized to a frustrating degree—that their shoulders immediately slumped from a hardass square to a softer, more sympathetic angle

They padded over to join him on the floor.

“Care to elaborate, oh roomie of mine?”

There was a pause and Spinner tapped his nails against the hardwood idly before responding.

“I guess I’m just feeling, like, fucking I don’t know,” he sighed, knocking his head against the dusty boards, “left out I guess? That’s not quite right, but it’s just Magne mentioned last time she came to The League meeting that Jin was seeing somebody and it just got me all introspective and weird…”

“Hm,” his roommate hummed thoughtfully and studied the way the textured white ceiling gave way to the rings of brown water damage, like a dead and dying flower, “I thought you and Jin weren’t ever that serious?”

“We weren’t,” Spinner groaned again and rubbed his eyes. “We went on like, one date a year ago and I haven’t thought about it really at all since then. I’m not sure why hearing he’s got someone else now made me so fucking...jealous I guess.”

“I mean, maybe you just never really gave yourself the time to process it?” they asked and received only an annoyed huff and accompanying groan. “Sorry, should have asked if you were looking for advice or just wanting to rant. My bad.”

“No, it’s fine. I think it’s just…”

Spinner trailed off and they shifted as the hard floor bit at their back and made it ache. The muscles were sore already as it was, and Tomura blowing their fucking back a few times a week wasn’t really helping. They’d created some kind of perpetually horny monster, but something told them cracking a joke about it wasn’t really going to help the situation much. Thankfully, Spinner found his way to filling the silence a minute later.

“I don’t think it has anything specifically to do with Jin. Yeah I liked him, we’re still really good friends and I don’t feel like I need him to be more than that. It’s just that—and this is gonna make me sound like a massive asshole—but with you and your new fucking boyfie and now even Jin finding someone to date I just keep seeing reminders everywhere of how motherfucking isolated I am.”

“Oh,” they felt their face burn a bit, guilt frothing as they were forced to acknowledge the fact that in all the time they’ve spent holed up with Tomura, Spinner had been discarded like an old Steam game, bought impulsively on sale and never played again. “I’m sorry I haven’t been prioritizing you—”

“No, no, no shut the fuck with that,” he waved his hand to cut them off and pushed himself up on his palms. “I know I’m not being fair about it, and I really am happy for you guys, but idk man….I just feel like I’m never gonna find that you know?”

Beside him, his roommate remained sprawled out on the floor like a homicide tape outline and was just as deadly quiet.

“I just,” he continued, running an angry hand through his hair, “I know I could be such a good partner. Like I’m funny and I’m not a fucking creep, which is actually a plus to most people.”

He shot a side glance down and they rolled their eyes, sitting up and knocking his shoulder roughly till he toppled back to the dirty floor and they stood above him.

“Fuck off,” they chuckled.

His roommate watched as the laughter seemed to infect him like a bad cold, creeping down the back of his throat and shaking in his chest.

“No I’m serious, I would be such a fucking great boyfriend. I give goddamn top quality cuddles and I actually know how to do laundry, what more does one need truly?”

“Damn bro, you’ve known how to fold your own clothes this whole time?”

The giggling spread into the quiet space, rocking through both their shoulders and leaving the air feeling light—fresh like the first nights of Spring. When it finally petered out into friendly silence, they were both far lighter.

“I just like the way you fold my t-shirts, the sleeves don’t get those weird creases when you do it,” he muttered and stood, doing his best to fix the wild pink locks that stood on end from his fidgeting.

“Yeah I’m sure,” his roommate rolled their eyes and turned back down the hall.

When they left for the night to stay over with their boyfriend, Spinner tried not to acknowledge the way he subconsciously glared at their back as they walked out the door, skipping yet another League meeting to swap spit with that guy from their English class.

He tried even harder not to think of how their bed would be warm and their legs would have legs to tangle with, their chest have a chest to lay against, while he heated up instant noodles in the microwave and fell asleep alone on their living room couch.

Not to mention that tonight was the big tournament with that new group on campus. He was really banking on his bff (best fucking friend as they were always sure to clarify) and him teaming up to crush those assholes from The Commission or whatever they called themselves.

Fucking lame as shit name in his opinion.

In any case, he’d have to settle for Magne again, and she was such a loose cannon they were sure to get their asses handed to them. She was a great fucking tank, he’d be the first to admit, but strategy was not a strong point of hers and they desperately needed that tonight.

He could feel the sinking weight of failure rolling in the pit of his stomach already even as he dragged himself into his room to tug on an old pair of jeans.

It bothered him way more than it should, the idea of losing some gaming tournament that, by all means held little to no actual significance.

Spinner knew the stock he’d started placing in games was growing to an unhealthy degree.

He knew that.

But self awareness rarely did anything to alleviate the irrational fear of failing at one of the only remaining consistencies in his life.

It stung worse when the tournament kicked off and by the third round, Spinner was the only remaining League member in the brackets.

“Fucking shit…” he muttered to himself, the small basement room alight with the blue glow of the monitor and the sound of frantically smashing controllers.

Behind him on the couch—stolen long ago from the theater building—Magne held him by the shoulders as he grit his teeth and leaned into the movement of his avatar on screen.

“You got this babe,” she shouted, cheek pressed up to his ear. “Make ‘em eat shit for me!”

“I would if you stopped distracting me,” Spinner hissed back.

Really it wasn’t Magne’s aggressive and somewhat bloodthirsty style of encouragement that shook his focus so badly.

It was his opponent.

The fucking president of The Commission sat, thighs spread and pressed to his, resting your weight on your elbows and snarling beside him in the couch.

Your face was split in this heart stopping grin as you quite deftly dodged all his attempts to get a hit in and managed to land a few of your own in the process.

And you looked really hot doing it.

Which was definitely just a side effect of the punch he (didn’t) drink and the body heat fueled temperature of the room—sweaty skin against sweaty skin making his mind wander against his will.

The shifting in his seat was absolutely just to illogically make him move faster and had nothing to do with how tight his pants now seemed.

So much for not being a fucking creep.

Your teammates were gathered in a circle behind you, enraptured and exuding the kind of smug confidence that said quite clearly The League was fucked from the second they walked in.

Not even two minutes later your hands were thrown up, punching the air and your team piling over the back of the couch to drown you in a sea of celebratory limbs.

Spinner felt himself deflating even as he was toppled off the couch by your screaming members and The League collectively cursed in the background.

Truthfully he’d known the chances of winning were slim.

Ever since his roommate started getting busy with classes and clubs that ‘looked good on their resume,’ The League had gone downhill rapidly. It was a problem since long before that Shigaraki guy swooped in and stole them away, but Spinner couldn’t stop himself from lowkey holding that against him.

The League had consumed so much of his life in college, functioning as a haven where he was finally respected and belonged to an extent he’d never experienced before.

The stink of failure and loss, not of the game but the only space he’d ever really occupied without complaint, burned his face and made the room feel more suffocating than usual.

Magne looked as though she wanted to give him one of her signature—and admittedly very comforting—hugs, but the deadly look of disappointment on Spinner’s face must have made her think twice.

The rest of his team seemed to read this sudden downward shift in the room as they began to filter out, climbing the steps onto street level and away from the suddenly stuffy, uncomfortable meeting spot. Normally everyone would stay and finish off the drinks snuck past the janitorial staff, eating Doritos until well past midnight. This time they couldn’t wait to be rid of him.

He couldn’t really blame them.

The multimedia building was a strange place after hours. Once Spinner might have called it something rare and liminal, now it felt more like a prison.

He stood, packing up the consoles a bit more roughly than necessary when someone cleared their throat behind him.

He turned to see you, standing alone with hands on your hips and scowling like you were the one who just got their gaming reputation ruined.

“Dude what the fuck was that?”

Spinner bristled at the knife sharp point of your tone.

“Really?” he asked incredulously. “You seriously waited around to rub your win in my face?”

You rolled your eyes and took a step closer around the couch. “I’m not talking about the fucking game dumbass. Why the hell are you pouting like I stole your fucking candy or some shit? You ruined the vibes man.”

“If anyone was ruining the vibes, it was you and your cocky ass team.”

Spinner felt himself stepping closer too, pulled in by the celestial weight that accompanied any kindling argument.

“Me?” you pointed to your chest and scoffed, “Wow, I was really hoping you’d actually possess a bit of emotional maturity, but if this is how you get after a loss I’m not shocked your fucking club is bleeding members.”

At some point the two of you had gravitated close enough that he felt the puff of your last breath on his cheeks. Two comets, ready and willing to collide.

“I’m not being the asshole in this situation, you know that right?” Spinner glared down his nose at you, heart pounding in his ears. “Maybe you shouldn’t make fucking unfounded assumptions about people you don’t know.”

“So then why are your panties in a twist over a fucking game?” you retorted.

He was peripherally aware that your eyes had taken on the same laser focused quality as they had during the last round. Determined and locked onto him without sparing a glance to anything else.

It was this same undivided attention that he’d envied in you as you played, and as Spinner felt it trained on him, his pants once again felt uncomfortably restrictive.

“It’s not about the fucking game okay!?” his voice came out hoarse and far more petulant than he’s been aiming for.

Though he quickly felt the embarrassment give rise to a secondary heat as you both breathed each other’s air and searched the face across from you.

“Then what is it about?”

That strange, unexplainable, inexplicable rush of potential filled the small gap that remained between your bodies—the kind of tension Spinner was beginning to think he’d never feel again.

He’d kissed plenty of people. Almost more than he’d like to admit, or that they’d like to admit more accurately.

But when his flickering eyes found your hard stare still and unwavering from his, it felt incredibly natural to lean in and press his lips against your fading frown.

It was slow going, the few centimeters that separated you seemed like miles as he moved slowly, never breaking eye contact until his mouth was finally slotted over yours and you weren’t pushing him away.

There was still a bit of lingering confusion, as this was decidedly not what either of you appeared to be expecting from the prior conversation. That coupled with the fact that Spinner wasn’t entirely sure he remembered your first name made the feeling of your tongue prodding at the seam of his lips all the more startling.

When he gasped, you slid your hands up his chest and licked into his mouth. Tongue tangling between breaths, Spinner felt himself getting lost in the familiar and coveted taste of another mouth, another body, another hand that grasped, that desired, that wanted him.

***

Your knees dug into the cushions on either side of Spinner’s thighs as you bounced in his lap. He fought to keep his eyes open against the pleasure of his cock sinking into you over and over again, so he could watch the way your head was thrown back and your chest heaved with the exertion.

He dug his hands into your hips and let his head hit the back of the couch, feet planted on the floor to help his hips thrust up into you, earning him some of the prettiest, stifled moans he’d ever heard.

Truthfully, he had not expected to fuck you. He figured you might be down to just make out for a bit until the cleaning staff came and booted you from the building, but both your pants had quite quickly and naturally found their way to the floor.

Neither of you spoke much, which he was thankful for. That would have been far too complicated of a conversation, especially considering you really didn’t know each other all that well.

Spinner usually liked to do a bit of ‘getting to know you’ type activities before he hooked up with people, which he did with surprising frequency for somebody so starved for a long term thing. Sex just fucking felt good and it was this eagerness that was his downfall. Most people he’d fucked around with seemed to read the urge to get into their pants as a diminished interest or emotional attraction and Spinner ended up with more friends with benefits than actual friends...or benefits.

Regardless, it was fine by him that the only form of communication passing between you for now were scattered groans of pleasure and the wet slap of your ass against his thighs.

He’d nearly forgotten how fucking amazing pussy felt.

For no particular reason, Spinner had always found himself fooling around with bodies more similar to his own. Not that he had any real preference, though the lack of experience often made him a bit nervous in the whole ‘pleasing your partner’ department, despite many helpful lessons from his roommate.

That was all to say that Spinner was incredibly thankful you reached down to guide his hand that had clumsily begun rubbing circles on your clit. That is until you simply knocked it away and went back to riding his dick like a fucking champ.

Then he did speak.

“Wanna make you cum,” he mumbled and really did sound like he was pouting this time.

You peered down at him, slowing your pace so you sat flush in his lap, grinding his cock deep against your walls. Spinner keened as you clenched around him, pussy so deliciously warm he felt himself near to drowning in the feel of you.

“Mm fuck,” you panted, leaning in to steal a few more messy kisses from him before lifting up and enveloping him in the slick heat all over again. “Don’t worry about it.”

“No,” he nipped at the column or your throat, careful not to leave any lasting marks just in case. “If I’m finishing, you’re fucking finishing.”

You pulled back and stared at him for a moment. He felt you purposefully tightening around him just so he would squirm under your curious gaze. After a moment you smirked and rolled your eyes again, taking his hand and guiding his fingers back to that little nub just above where his thick length was seated inside you.

Spinner was proud of his dick, it was hefty but not so long that it was a hassle to fit—just enough to reach all the important bits. He was sensitive as hell too most of the time, so just about any pressure felt amazing. But the best part of it was watching whoever he was fucking fall apart on his goddamn perfect cock.

So when you whispered, “Like this,” and showed him the rhythm and motion you liked, he pulled himself back from the brink to pay attention, speeding up until that look of cooled control slid right off your face.

“Ahh, yes fuck...” the words tumbled from you freely now. “Shit, yeah just like that—”

Spinner could get fucking drunk off the low groan that left you as he planted his feet more firmly and bucked his hips up. He must have hit something good by the way you choked and moaned boarding on too loud, though he had neither the heart nor self control to stop you.

“Feel good?” he grunted, picking up the pace and force he thrust into you, so that you had to loop your arms around his neck and hold tightly as he speared you on his cock.

“Fuck...yes..” you whimpered into his shoulder which did wonders for his ego.

Spinner kept up his rubbing frantic patterns on your clit and feeling the gradual constriction of your walls around him—the coil growing tight and ready to snap. He nudged your cheek with his until you pulled back a bit to face him.

“I want to see you,” he murmured, sucking your tongue into his mouth for a moment and tearing himself away so he could watch as you came undone around him.

You gave him a strange, soft look and pressed your forehead to his, eyes zoned in on only him.

The rest of the room, the whole fucking basement and campus melted away under that stare.

Your nipples peaked through your shirt, brushing against his as you were jostled into him by the movement of your hips. As you reached your peak, words devolved into increasingly breathy gasps. It took Spinner an incredible amount of concentration not to fucking paint your insides then and there.

Your pussy was so goddamn tight and warm and milking him just right, it was a fucking impressive feat to remain staunchly at the edge of his peak as your mouth fell open and your fingernails scratched at his back when you finally came—the telltale spasms around his cock and the near sobs coming from you more than enough indication.

He lost himself well and truly then.

Lost in the false sense of intimacy that came with being allowed to see you fall apart, this person he barely knew yet made him feel immensely important in that moment. Your breath and spit was in his mouth, the smell and feel of you soaking his length pushed him beyond the realm of conscious thought.

There was only a deep and burning need to be closer to you. So, so much closer.

His hands moved of their own accord, hooking under your thighs and flipping your bodies so your back hit the cushions and he hovered above you. The angle allowed him to slide deeper, pulling out and thrusting his hips in fast, hard strokes that hurtled him towards release.

Spinner couldn’t keep himself quite now either, panting and moaning and gasping unashamedly with his eyes screwed shut as you took his cock so unbelievably well.

It wasn’t until your hands, softer than he’d imagined, cupped his jaw and pulled him down to meet you that he was brought back down from whatever higher plane of existence his impending orgasm whisked him too.

Your lips weren’t nearly as frantic as the rocking of his thighs, the slap of his balls against your ass. The sweetness was an odd but welcome contrast.

“I’m gonna—fucking mm...” he tried so hard to get his tongue to form the words but he could feel himself slipping further as you started clamping around his length again.

“I know,” you breathed against his lips, faces pressed together and unmoving eyes steady on his own. “Ahh, inside if you want.”

He did want.

Oh fuck did he want nothing more in that moment to stay sunk in your warmth and pump you so full, but the last few remaining logical braincells reminded him that was not a great idea. Not without a more in-depth conversation neither of you was in a state to have.

“Shouldn’t...” he groaned and moved to pull out but your ankles locked around his ass and forced him back down.

“It’s okay,” you huffed and rocked into him, squeezing around the sensitive head of his dick just once, just right and that did him in.

It was something in the way you looked at him, so that he could feel nothing but secure—nothing but safe wrapped up in you. Something about the way you pressed him closer, in the movement of your thumb on his cheek.

It scratched some deep seated, lonely itch in Spinner.

Made it feel like this meant a hell of a lot more than it probably did.

In seconds he was blowing his fucking load right into you, milking himself in your heat until he was spent and overstimulated. You were kind enough to pull him to you, turning your bodies so you laid side by side on the coach, his softening cock slipping from you in a gush of release.

For a minute or so, neither of you spoke, just stared, long and comfortable at the stranger you’d just fucked on the gaming club couch.

Well.

Fucked wasn’t really the word he’d use at that point to describe what you’d just done, but anything more than that felt presumptuous.

You broke the silence as he nuzzled into your palm.

“You really needed that didn’t you?”

Spinner couldn’t help the familiar, infectious laugh that rattled in his chest. He liked the smile it earned him, far more genuine than any others you’d worn that night.

“Uh, yeah,” he said. “Yeah, I guess I did.”

You hummed, nodding in response. “Mm, me too.”

And somehow, for no real logical reason, Spinner knew you understood. That you felt the same isolation, the same starvation for love, for holding weight in someone else’s world.

That the games were just a placeholder, a way to fill the space, to get lost in other lives, in other stories where he did matter. Where his actions had foreseeable and measurable worth. That’s why it hurt to lose. Not for the glory, but for the destruction of the only remaining diversion from how empty his reality felt.

Even if it wasn’t really.

Even if there were friends and benefits and friends who offered both. His roommate could let him rest his head in their lap on movie nights or sleep in his bed on occasion when the heat went out and he got cold too quickly. But none of that quite filled the hole like you now, holding his face and knowing the struggle without him having to explain it.

Nothing like you pulling him in and kissing him too familiarly for someone he’d only known a day.

Magne used to say something about shit like this. Something like how people bond in train cars when there’s a rat eating a slice of pizza and you all watch it happen. Some weird camaraderie forged in the shared experience of life being a little fucking freaky a lot of the time.

That was how it felt when you slipped your leg between his and brushed your lips together again. Content to lay, half naked in the media building basement, making out with some guy you beat at Smash and fucked right after.

Reveling in the brief but meaningful feeling of mattering in some small, strange way to someone else.

Of holding weight.

Of being held.

#spinner x reader #shuichi iguchi x reader #spinner x y/n #spinner x you #college au #mha angst #student!reader

[ecoamerica]

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[nelllraiser]

adventures in guilt | dave & nell

TIMING: shortly after nell summoned a shark-jellyfish demon. PARTIES: @seizethecarpe and @nelllraiser. SUMMARY: dave returns the jacket nell forgot on the boat, and the two try to navigate a life with guilt. CONTENT: sibling death mentions.

Dave carefully folded down the coat over his arm, smoothing out the material idly. That wasn’t the full reason, the texture of the scales under his fingers was captivating, more interesting than anything else nearby. But this was the college campus, Dave wasn’t sure he would want to touch anything else, the risk of beer stickiness on everything was too damn high. It was drizzling, cool gusts biting the needles off of nearby trees and blowing them around the park bench. As unbothered as he was by the cold, Dave hated icy winds. The sooner the ‘caster showed up, the better. He waved at her when he spotted her, standing up from the bench. This’d be interesting. 

Generally Nell didn’t come to campus this early. Her visits to the university mostly consisted of visits to her friends, and the occasional sleuthing for a bounty, but classes hadn’t even begun yet for the day. Thankfully she hadn’t overslept, because the witch hadn’t slumbered in the first place. With Bea gone to New York, the house was just herself and Luce, and far too much like it had been when their third sister had been struck down, existing only as a ghost. It made for restless nights that came more often than they already had, though Nell had managed to fill a good amount of them with work. As Dave came into sight, Nell felt the familiar sensation of guilt flooding her stomach, a feeling that hadn’t left her since the accidental deaths she’d caused— but one she’d learned how to manage in a way that allowed her to function rather than wallow. Unfortunately the sight of the selkie brought all the regrets of that day back the instant she set eyes on him, though she squared her shoulders in sheer refusal of letting them overwhelm her. Finally getting within speaking distance, she gave the man a nod before speaking. “Hey.” Shit, what else was she supposed to say? There had to be something else, right? “Thanks for keeping my jacket.”

“Wasn’t about to do anything else with it,” Dave said, handing it over, scrutinising her with a trademark scowl, that did little to show what he was really thinking. Somehow, she looked older now than the last time they’d met, and he knew how that kind of guilt could eat at someone’s youth in the worst possible ways. But he also knew that the younger you were, the more important it was to be able to hide that kind of shit, and he had no doubt that plenty of her younger friends didn’t see it at all. “You holding up alright?”

Under any other circumstance Nell might have jokingly asked about whether or not the jacket was his color, or if he’d sneaked one single try on. Nevermind the fact that she was fairly certain he wouldn’t even be able to get his arm into the sleeves of the tiny jacket. Instead, she just accepted the jacket wordlessly before layering it over the sweater she was already wearing. Yet another thing she hadn’t inherited along with her lack of fire abilities was the heightened body temperature that went along with it, and Nell was almost endlessly cold in the winters of Maine. His question caught her wholly off-guard, rather convinced that he still thought her some idiotic, and guitless spellcaster who didn’t know what she was doing, and didn’t care to think beyond that. Surprise flickered ever so briefly over her features before it was quickly replaced with a frown, and suspiciously drawn eyebrows. “I’m not the one who got eaten by a demon shark.” She wasn’t about to admit the truth to a man who’d witnessed one of her greatest mistakes when she barely admitted it to herself.

“No. But I know a thing or two about being eaten by guilt,” Dave replied slowly, like the words were being dragged out of him. That he knew he could offer her the comfort that people who hadn’t been there couldn’t. He still wasn’t convinced she deserved it. He wasn’t convinced power like that, the kind that was at once a tempest and could summon a tempest, ought to be allowed to live. But that sorta shit wasn’t his call to make, not unless she was deliberately slaughtering people. Hell, in a town like this, there was probably some sort of person who specialised in ‘casters. 

Nell watched the man with a guarded gaze, as if trying to see below his exterior to see what secrets or well-hidden intentions were hidden underneath the apparent concern he was now exhibiting. Though even calling it concern might be a bit of a stretch. His words seemed reluctant— almost as unwillingly spoken as her reply was. “And you think that’s what’s happening to me?” Nevermind that it was the truth. Beyond her inability to properly express herself was the question of why he was bothering with her in the first place. WIth the way he’d reacted on the boat paired with his attempts to pin her against the railing- she’d thought he’d want to get in and out of this situation as quickly as possible.

 “Don’t know. It’s why I’m asking. Doesn’t mean you gotta answer.” Dave replied with an off handed shrug tracing his fingers over the grain of the bench. The arm of the bench had been smashed off once or twice before, the wood was a different age to the age of the sea, but even still there was an unnerving stain deep inside the grain of the wood, that couldn’t quite be washed out no matter how hard the college tried. Dave knew a thing or two about that sort of stain, too. “Well,” he said after a moment, “If that’s all,” He eyed her, just the hint of softness buried in all his wrinkles. “I know how busy you young folk are. Wouldn’t want to keep you.”

“But...why do you care to ask?” Nell replied with another question, still not entirely willing to answer his question. There was still a wariness to her gaze, as if she were waiting for him to turn around and start yelling like he had on the boat. Why did he care whether the guilt was eating her alive or not? She couldn’t help shake the feeling that Dave was simply waiting to turn the tables once again, that he’d change his mind and cast her out just as easily as the coven and her parents had. He was right about her being busy, though. Between the demon cult, her bounty hunting, and potential new jobs she’d been kept running. Still...there was something making her want to linger despite her anxious certainty that nothing good would come of it. Perhaps it was the smallest hint of softness beneath his words, and the fact that she found so little of it these days. “What about you? You said you know about being eaten by guilt.”

“I can take the question back if it bothers you so,” Dave replied with a nonplussed lookin on his face, because the answer to her question was complicated as hell. “Sure do. Life as long and messy as mine, I got plenty to feel guilty for. Not summonin’ demon sharks, I’ll give you that, but enough messes with a body count, that’s for sure.” Dave rubbed the bridge of his nose. Grey clouds overhead were beginning to promise rain. He wasn’t about to share the nature and brunt of his messes, whether they were the sinking boat variety, victims of a monster Dave had failed to stop, or drowning someone who… it was probably not right to have drowned. “Just saying, storing that emotional stuff like a Molotov’s just gonna have it blow in your face. I’d know.” 

“It doesn't bother me,” Nell commented defensively, even though the opposite was true. She just didn’t want to admit such a thing. Not to herself and certainly not to the man who’d already see too much of things she wanted to hide or forget. “Does my question bother you?” She posed the rebuttal as a means of trying to get the burden of explanation off herself, shifting it in Dave’s direction instead. The mention of a body count wasn’t something she’d expected from the selkie, and it was plain to see her curiosity had been piqued. Fortunately, she knew better than to ask for details at a time like this, but that didn’t stop her from asking another question. “Well then...what do you do with it?” Her tone was uncomfortable, arms folded defensively over her chest. She wasn’t fond of appearing weak in front of people she barely knew, or asking for help at all, but desperation was starting to get the better of her. Besides- maybe he would just think she was asking for someone else’s sake. 

“No,” Dave replied honestly, eyebrows raised at her defensive demeanor, quietly letting her know that he could see just how reticent she was to talk about it. But he didn’t push again, getting ready to leave her to her coat and her guilt when she pried another question out of herself. Dave’s look was probably more understanding than she’d like, but he still sighed. 

“Agh, hell,” Dave ran his hand through his hair, turning so he was side on to her when he leant against a nearby fence, his brows dipped deep in thought. For all his gentle cajoling, he wasn’t quite ready to open up to a stranger either. “Different things for different guilts. Some folks act like they never did anything wrong, bottle it up and continue on like nothing ever happened. Some folks spend a lifetime chasing a type of redemption that doesn’t exist, so they can do enough good to outbalance the bad, like it’s some cosmic scale they just gotta weigh up right. Hard to say which way leaves you more fucked up. Guess I deal with it with something in the middle. ‘M not a good person, but I can ensure I don’t make the same fuck ups as before. Focus on what keeps me going. If I face judgement after, I’ll have earned it.” He looked at her sidelong, trying to parse her reaction. “That answer your question?” As vague an answer as it was. There was no talking about the nights with angry outbursts, darker shades that he saw the world in, how quickly his mind twisted to the thought of solving issues by killing. He barely knew this girl, after all. 

Nell still didn’t understand why he’d taken the time to answer her questions to begin with, constantly surprised when he continued to linger with her as they spoke. She was silent as she mulled over Dave’s words, trying to fit them into cracks that lived in her as a result of her own guilt. She knew redemption wasn’t an option, one good thing didn’t magically replace one bad. And ignoring her guilt had never been an option for her, not when she was much better at wallowing in it. “So what you’re saying is it doesn’t get any better,” Nell snorted somewhat derisively, but it was meant as a comment at her own expense rather than Dave’s. She was thankful for his words, even if they hadn’t necessarily filled her with hope. Her foot scuffed at the ground, still uncomfortable despite letting the clam shell of her emotional state open in the slightest. “I mean- thanks for answering. I guess it makes sense that you just gotta learn from it and then deal with it.” After all that had been her experience so far, hadn’t it? Something about not being a good person struck a nerve in her, and she couldn’t help but think of how close Adam’s guilt had gotten him to making a lifelong mistake. “I think trying to be better is at least...the mark of a decent person.” That was the closest she managed to get when it came to offering Dave an opinion on his judgement day.

"Wouldn’t say it doesn’t get easier with time,” Dave replied, tilting his head until his neck cracked, easing some of the tension this conversation was giving him. “More manageable, less raw. Easier to put these things in perspective. You’re still young, you’ve got time to figure out how you want to deal.” Even if it didn’t, Dave was always aware that when he talked to young adults about shit, they had so little framework for how much they still had time to change and grow that he didn’t want to say shit to stifle that. The surest way to keep someone the same was to tell them they had no chance of changing. He looked at her sidelong, the tiniest corner of a smile on his face. “I like to think so,” he replied, in a distant, hypothetical way. It wasn’t something he was interested in applying to himself. 

He was right, technically. Nell was still young. But it felt like she’d been aged some fifteen years in that last twelve months alone. Being raised in White Crest meant she was more than familiar with its oddities and quirks, but she hadn’t remembered the little town being quite so emotionally destructive. Or maybe she’d just been too wrapped up in the swaddle of youth to experience it herself before she’d left, only to return after seeing how gruesome the rest of the world could be. For some naive reason she hadn’t expected it to follow her back home, but here she was with the literal scars along her arms and neck to prove otherwise. Her lips pursed as Dave refused to take part in her little charade of ‘asking for a friend’, feeling set off kilter when he addressed her and the guilt she held directly. “I never said I was talking about me,” she replied stubbornly as her face took on a somewhat petulant expression despite it being obvious that she’d been doing just that.

The beginning of his smile also caught Nell off-guard, and parts of why she’d found it so hard to believe that he could turn his anger from the boat around so quickly fell into place. She’d wanted him to be the persecutor, to tell her that she’d fucked up and confirm her as deserving of the guilt that lived in her chest like an iron set of chains. To give her the punishment she felt she deserved like her mother had done. The realization had her looking away from him, not wanting to give away any more emotion than she already had. “So you...what? Don’t have time to figure it out anymore?” For once her words weren’t meant as an old person joke at the expense of who she was asking. “Or have you just been letting it ‘get easier’ and put into perspective? And that’s the thing you’ve figured out?”

“Hmmm,” Came Dave’s noncommittal response, just looking at her sidelong. When she pouted like that, it was damn hard to remember that the girl was an adult who had gotten folk killed, not just a lost kid finding her way through the world. Which was what made her more dangerous.

“No. Just got bigger fish to fry.” It was a pact he’d made with himself a long damn time ago, as unhealthy as anything else on his list. He’d face his penance, whether that came at the end of a hunter’s knife or an Aipaloovik’s embrace. Dave knew damn well there were consequences to the choices he’d made over the past couple years, but that didn’t slow him down. He’d face it all, but only once the fury was dead, and he had his family’s pelts once more. He could carry the other, less important deaths he’d caused by choice or negligence or malice until that day. He was, in fact, doing just what he’d told Nell not to, letting a guilt define every part of him. “When it came down to it, I learned to carry what I needed to so that I could do what I had to. That’s all.”

“Yeah...yeah I get what you mean,” Nell mused as she thought back to the other times guilt had threatened to consume her. She’d gotten Bea killed. Watched her sister die because she’d been reckless and selfish, and hadn’t taken care of her problems properly. But even as that sickening knowledge had clawed away at her gut, she’d learned how to stomach it well enough to focus on bringing Bea back. Done what she needed to do...just like Dave had. Or at least it sounded that way. At this point she wasn’t sure what else there was to say, already feeling as if she’d said perhaps a little too much. “Anyway...thanks for the jacket.” Nell shrugged her shoulders to help it sit better on her shoulders as she stood and waited to see if Dave had anything else to say on the subject of guilt and otherwise.

“Sure,” Dave replied, noting the quick shut down of conversation with a wry smile. He straightened, shaking his head to work out any cricks as he began to turn to leave. “I know when I’ve been dismissed.” He began to walk away, before turning back to give her a stern look. “Don’t summon any more demon sharks, kid. I won’t be so nice next time.” Dave said, tapping the top of his head like he was tipping his cap to her. This time when he turned, he did not look back. Hell, he even whistled a tune he hadn’t been able to hear for 30 years.

#// don't look at me im emo and love dave #wickedswriting #ch:dave #adventures in guilt #sibling death tw #chatzy

[monstersandmaw]

Embers - male dragon shifter x reader, Chapter Ten (nsfw)

A c.1600 word smutty interlude with Mikaeïl before the story continues properly next week! Got to get to that murder mystery dinner after all! I did include one or two little breadcrumbs in there though... little snippets of information about him :).

One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine

Mikaeïl took your hand and led you upstairs, offering to take your bag for you which you gladly turned over to him. Your cheeks were flushed and your heart thudded in your ears. After being together for a few weeks now this was the most worked up he’d allowed himself to get, and you were curious to see where it led.

He glanced back over his shoulder at you and smiled in a way that made your blood rush southwards and you laughed. He knew what he was doing. “Careful,” you chided him but he only broadened his smile.

At the top of the staircase, he paused and said, “Would you like your own room while you’re here, or would you prefer to use mine?”

“Whatever you’d feel most comfortable with, I guess,” you said. You stepped closer to him and put your hands on his narrow hips, unsure which of you you were steadying with that touch. “I know this isn’t always easy for you,” you added quietly.

His golden eyes flared, pupils widening, and he snaked one arm around your waist, drawing you right against his slim, lean body and kissing you hard. “I’m not sure what I did to deserve you,” he growled softly between kisses.

“How d’you think I feel then?” you laughed and he shook his head gently and smiled.

It was immediately obvious that the bedroom to which he showed you was his own, and though it was as neat and ordered as the rest of his large house, it had more character. There were bookshelves with well-thumbed paperbacks and photographs in tarnished silver frames, and a battered old Persian rug that didn’t really fit the decor but which clearly meant something to him. There were two doors in the wall opposite the bed, but they were both pulled shut.

You glanced at him as he set your bag down beside his bed with its comfortable looking, charcoal-grey duvet, and grinned when you saw the tent in his trousers still. He caught you looking and rolled his eyes.

“You want a tour?” he asked.

“Bed…” you said, pointing at it, “The rest can wait…”

He crossed back over to you and kissed you fondly, backing you down onto that bed, and once he’d got you there, he slid his hands under your top and began to undress you, leaving kisses and affectionate nips on every exposed inch of your skin he could find. You gasped as he pinched and tugged on a nipple, and then lowered his lips to bite and then suck you gently until your skin prickled and throbbed.

The hard length of him ground into you as he rocked slowly against you, and you reached your hands up into his fiery red hair and undid the scruffy bun. Cascades of his slightly wavy, burning auburn hair fell around you and brushed against your skin and you smiled as he growled quietly, the low-frequency rumble quite unlike the growl of a werewolf or even a big cat. It was more akin to the rumbling of an alligator, or the passing of a train in the distance. It spoke of his heritage, and it made you ache once again to see him in his wyvern form.

He brought you back to the moment, however, when he drew away, kneeling on one side of you, removed his circular glasses and set them neatly on the bedside table, and then began to undo the buttons of his crisp shirt. His breathing was rapid and shallow, and his cat-like eyes were blown wide with arousal. Instead of looking cute, however, he looked like a predator, ready to spring, and you shivered under the weight and presence of that gaze.

As he slid back the fabric of his shirt, you gasped.

Beneath, his skin was not the same glacially pale colour that his face and arms were, but he was covered in a glittering mass of coppery scales in the hues of a vibrant sunset.

“Mikaeïl,” you breathed in wonder, half sitting up and placing your palm on his torso. As your hand connected with his body, he tilted his head back, his long hair falling right down his spine through the gateway made by his ruby-red horns, and his breath hitched audibly. “You’re stunning…”

Shyly, he smiled and pushed himself off the bed, stepping out of the rest of his clothes until he was perfectly naked in front of you. His cock, which stood proud, the tip almost touching his lower abdomen, was ridged and flushed, twitching occasionally as you continued to stare at him with wide, amazed eyes.

You raised one arm to get him to come back to the bed, but he seemed almost embarrassed. Deciding to take the wordless option, it was you who pounced when he reached you. You laid him onto his back and watched him slowly unravel beneath your touch.

The scales were hard and cool as tooled leather, though the skin of his chest was warmed with a faint flush - as close as he ever seemed to get to human temperature, even when he blushed - and the colour and scales faded into life around his ribs, formed a solid armour all the way down his torso, over his hips, and continued down to his feet which were mostly human in shape, but ended in bronze talons. His cock, achingly hard and a vibrant coppery red, was adorned with a pearl of pre-come which you smeared playfully around his tip with your thumb, prompting him to buck upwards into your hand with a whimper.

Your other hand refused to leave the amazing texture of his scales. They glinted in the light that still streamed in through the large windows, and when you brought your lips to the junction between his thigh and his hip, placing a kiss on the subtle crease there, he shivered violently and let out a hoarse breath.

“I… I don’t think I will last very long,” he admitted shakily. “It’s… It’s been a little while since anyone - oh!” he broke off with a hoarse cry as you leaned forwards and pressed the wet circle of your lips around the head of his weeping cock and slid him a little way into the heat of your mouth. Another shudder ran right through him and he collapsed completely onto the bed.

It didn’t take long to work him to distraction.

His long hair spread out beneath him like a fire, engulfing the pillow in a wash of flame and copper, and his pale body gleamed like alabaster. The ridges of his inhuman cock slid easily over your lips and tongue, and as you moved to caress his balls with your free hand - which had until that point been teasing the tense bud of his left nipple - Mikaeïl began to speak in a language you didn’t recognise.

It had a lilting, otherworldly beauty to it and you nearly stopped what you were doing altogether to listen to it. When you slowed, another desperate whine escaped him and his hands balled into fists in the sheets. Glancing down, you saw that his hands were no longer the hands you recognised. They had begun to form claws and scales too until they looked like fantasy gauntlets made of beaten bronze all the way up to his elbows.

With his eyes rammed shut, Mikaeïl didn’t even seem to have noticed. They fluttered open and he dazedly tried to focus on your face. “Please…?” he whispered and you saw that his double canines were elongated.

You reached for the palm of his right hand as it sat in a tight fist beside his glittering hips, and he jerked when he saw what he looked like. “Do you mind?” he slurred. “I’m not sure I can shift back just yet…”

“Of course I don’t mind,” you smiled. “I’ve been curious about your other form for a while.”

“Oh,” he said vaguely. “This isn’t my full wyvern form. It’s… we’re… my family are… ah… not now. Please, not now… please…” he broke off into a string of words that didn’t make much sense as you gently rolled his balls in your hand and stroked his cock with your other.

A moment later you were working him in earnest with your mouth and hands, cheeks hollowed. He was gasping, his chest heaving, his spine arching off the bed as he fought not to come almost instantly. His thighs began to tremble and you felt his balls tighten right before he grunted, “I’m -”

You didn’t get any more warning than that, but you swallowed his release as he clenched and spasmed, abs tightening as he spilled into you with a particularly resonant growl. His lips were drawn back into a snarl, his teeth clenched, his eyes screwed shut, his hands digging into the sheets as he gave himself to you. You eased him through it and when he collapsed back into the sheets, breathing hard, you moved to lie beside him, trailing your fingers along his body and smiling as he twitched and groaned when you passed from an area of scales to smooth pale skin.

He cracked an eye open eventually and smiled blearily at you. “I had intended to do that to you first,” he said, his speech a little soft around the consonants.

“Ah, there’s time for that,” you reassured him, running your fingers along the smaller scales which surrounded the sheath of his cock and making him buck gently again, overstimulated but clearly enjoying the touch. “Plenty of time…” you added with a playful note to your voice and he laughed, lying back and letting you have your way with him.

—

Part Eleven

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#dragon #dragon x reader #dragon shifter x reader #male dragon x reader #embers #dragon shifter #weekly chapters

[lchufflepuffcorn]

Guilty of love  (Poe Dameron x reader)

Author’s note:  BABY!! I love him soooooo much, please send request for Star Wars, I WANT TO WRITE SOME SOOOOOO BAD!! But yeah, I feel like writing currently, so here I am. :) You can find my masterlist here, check out my Patreon and/or ko-fi. 

Words:  1289. 

Warning: Blood, mention of death and grieving. Gif is not mine, it belongs to the owner/creator. Angst with an happy ending. 

The T-70 X-Wings -Black one- team members were coming back one after the others, and you just knew you'd have a lot to do.  

The mission they went one was one of rescue, but by the missing four in the float and the black spots on the bright orange paint, you could feel that you'll have a hard day at the medic bay. 

The hurts are sent to your post, and you rush over there. 

The rebels are numerous, but the medics are short-staffed. Everyone wants to fight, but no-one thinks about the damage it causes and who can help with that. Here, with the head of the rebellion, General Organa, you're about three formed medic and five apprentices. Not enough for all of the injured people there is to take care of, and for those who have more severe injuries, the apprentices are to no avail. 

''I need the Medical Droid now!'' You shout at no one in particular while entering the medic bay following one of the floating beds were was laying Genhy, one of the pilots you knew well. She was bleeding from somewhere under her hair. The rest of the injured were rushed under the tent after her. 

You learned how to cut yourself from your emotions as you worked with the resistance. You were used to seeing people in the morning and never see them again after a mission. What you were mostly looking for was the trace of your lover somewhere, to no avail. Poe was nowhere to be seen. 

Your heart dropped, but hope still remained in your heart. If he wasn't in the med bay, he could always very well be inside the T-70 Wings. He liked taking his time getting out of it and talking to BB8 and the crew, so it wasn't unusual for Poe to not be present in the medic bay just after the mission. But seeing such a massacre, you would have felt better seeing him lay on a cheap bed then not seeing Poe at all.

Going back and forth between two patients, Genhy and Chusar, as you were not enough and that the only two medical droids you had were also all over, you were doing your best to stay focus on your current task. No time to worry about what if's only about the current job...

However, more challenging to do than tinking it, you managed surprisingly well. After nearly four intense hours of coming from and back, losing Genhy to her internal bleeding and resuscitating another pilot, you finally exited the tent that served as a medical center. Your shirt was filthy with blood, and the amount of washing you did on your hands did nothing to the pinky shade they took after Genhy. Losing friends was always challenging, and it always felt the same. You would wander out, plastering a pretended smile on your face, greeting other people until you reached your sleeping station. That's when you usually fall apart. 

But tonight, as the tears formed in your eyes when you closed your tent's drape, a well-known shadow came in the corner of your eye. 

''Hey...'' started Poe quietly, ''it's alright!'' 

Carefully, he walked toward you and engulfed you in a bone-crushing hug. Your arms wrapped around him like he's the only thing maintaining you on your feet. Your nose hiding in your husband's neck, your tears of despair are mixed with happiness, and you can't feel a pining inside your chest, guilt. 

Of course, you do feel a little bit guilty, while some of your friends died, you are happily wrapped in Poe's arms. 

''It's alright, see, we're both here,'' whispers Poe in your ears as one of his hand is patting your back tenderly.  ''No need to cry.'' 

Poe knows how you feel, too; he spent so much time in the galaxy. Many teams perished defending their rights, yet all he can think is content and warm and happy to hold you tonight again. Poe plays with your hair a little, enjoying the smooth texture underneath his fingertips. The three days he spent scouring the darkness and cold where awful, and he lost more than just Genhy and Loubour. Many did not come back, and yet, your husband still savours your warmth and touches. He can't help it. 

Even in those times of hardship, since he found the resistance, he fell in love with you. 

The first time he met you was after a mission, and boy was he not alright, cuts and clips everywhere on his face, an arm is broken, one of his feet he doesn't feel anymore, really, it could have gone better. And yet, as he makes jokes because of your distraught face, you do your job as if you've been doing it for a century, and you look younger than he is. Your eyes are emotionless, and your hand's work like you're manufacturing a robot. You chuckle at his jokes, but no more than that, you are a pro. Next to you, the medical droid looks like a puppet, holding bandages and sputtering facts about his well-being. 

It's the smile you give him when you finish the bandages that send him into a shame spiral. 

''Heartbeat rate augmented by five percent, the patient might have a fever.''  Automatically said the droid, making Poe jump nearly out of his skin. You, on the contrary, frowned. Your hand was going to his forehead as Poe felt his cheek heat up with embarrassment. 

Stupid droid for exposing his every little secret as if he hadn't spied on you for weeks before the mission, in the hope to meet you, talk to you.

''With a face like yours, you should be used to the fluttering heart of men.'' he laughs, pushing your hand away. Now it's your turn to blush, your mouth agape and Poe can't help but steal a glimpse at the red lips. You spent a lot of time bitting them while assisting him, a nervous habit, maybe? 

''You're fine.'' You sigh at him, lowering your hand from his forehead, ''Leave before you say something even more embarrassing.'' The light in your eyes tells him that it's not often that someone gives up compliments. He's surprised. At the same time, it's not like people have time to make friends during the resistance. But with you timid smile when he exits the medical tent -he turned to see you one last time- Poe knows that you're the one made for him. 

Poe kisses your neck's skin, gently moving the hairs away from your eyes before facing you again. Tears have stained your face, but there's nothing his kisses can't help with. Soon, while still grieving, you'll be smiling once more. 

If you thought about every friend you lost, Poe knows that you wouldn't be standing in front of him. And he doesn't like the fact that he could not come back to you one day. ''Don't cry beautiful. I know you missed me, but I'm' here now!'' He teases, kissing your cheeks. Right now, he knows that it's not the time to tell you that he nearly didn't get out of there alive. Maybe Poe'll never tell you, he will perhaps, but certainly not tonight. Tonight is for you to feel safe in his arms.

Poe just reaches to kiss your jaw when a knock on the door is heard, and Finn's voice echoed in the hall. ''General Organa wants to see us, Poe!'' Your husband let his forehead fall on your shoulder and groan before responding toward the still-closed door. ''Gimme a second.''

#star wars #star wars poe dameron #Poe Dameron #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x you #poe dameron imagines #x reader #x reader imagines #imagines star wars #star wars imagine #tw:blood #tw:death #tw:grief #NO MAJOR CHARACTER'S DEATH

[taehyung-rambles]

My Top 3 BTS Members from Each Era: Who Owned Each Era (Up to Permission to Dance)

Disclaimer: My Taehyung bias runs deep, so y’all may get mad at some of my choices--especially with the more recent stuff--unless you are fellow Taehyung trash. In which case, let’s talk.

Disclaimer #2: I’m not into any type of hip hop outside of BTS, so the rap verses usually have to stick out a lot for me to think it’s one of the best elements of the song. Though, I adore the rap line in BTS very much.

Disclaimer #3: Do not take a shot every time I say vocal tone/color because you will die.

So, I just made a BTS blog, and I wanted to start it off by talking about this. I realized while I was making this list that I tend to gravitate toward specific vocals and rap verses (from the maknae line and Yoongi, namely), so I’m sorry in advance if you don’t see your favorite person mentioned beneath a specific era, but these are just my opinions on who grabs my attention the most in each era; in other words, I’m not only ranking these based on who were the central members for that song, but also who jumped out the most to me. I mostly talk about these in terms of the vocal takes first and the total performance second with little consideration for how the music video was structured, though I may mention when a member’s concept is especially good for that era. K-pop does have a lot to do with total performance (vocal, choreo, wardrobe, etc.), but as I consume BTS’s music on its own more than I do their live performances, it was important to me to focus on the vocal before focusing on who killed the choreo. 

As such, you might see rankings in here that you don’t agree with because I thought a member may have dominated the MV but didn’t stick out to me as much vocally. This post is going to be very biased, though I did rank all of these with my honest interests in mind, so it’s biased for a reason. At the end of the day, BTS wouldn’t be BTS without all seven members, so even if I didn’t rank a certain member enough times in your opinion, I still love them so much and the music they produce. There is no “worst” member in each era. They’re all amazing all the time. So, just keep that in mind, and share your opinions with me in the replies!

P.S.: I tried to grab all the major MVs for the BTS singles that weren’t animated. Hopefully I didn’t forget anything, but there should be a mention of every MV that BTS specifically shot for that song and maybe a couple extras. I think the only exception is probably Make It Right since that MV was just a stage mix, but since there were multiple versions of it, I counted it in here. Same with EPILOGUE: Young Forever since it was almost entirely a compilation of old footage, but since it felt like a major MV, I included it. Also, I didn’t do various MV versions, obviously, since I’m focusing on the vocal before anything else.

P.S. #2: Sorry if these are out of order in some way; I tried to do them by when the MV was released. Also, sorry that some of the group photos don’t include everyone. The format I was using for the edits didn’t leave space to show all the members if the members were spread out.

Alright, so if I was being totally objective here and were to say who the top three members were based on the song structure and MV, it’d probably be Namjoon, Jungkook, and Jimin. However, being opinionated got me to these three.

Taehyung: If you’re thinking, “How can Taehyung be in the top 3 when he had no lines,” don’t worry. I was just as surprised as you are to have Taehyung in my top 3. I think it’s just that Taehyung’s (one) line was so heavy and had so much texture to it that it felt like bigger part than it was. I mean, I think it also has to do with me not knowing who my  number 3 would be for this song, and I decided that I would go with who’s vocal color fit this song the best, and that was Taehyung.

Yoongi: I mean, how could Yoongi not make the list? His first rap verse is iconic, and his second slaps. His voice has so much presence in this song that I can’t listen to it without looking forward to Yoongi’s part primarily. Also, you know those yips Yoongi does when he raps? That’s my favorite thing in the world, and No More Dream had a good amount of them.

Jungkook: We’re all aware that rapper Jungkook was an icon, and this song makes no exception to that rule. His verse is fire. Like Yoongi, Jungkook’s voice had a lot of character, as well. Legit, “see me, see me, yeah” gets stuck in head on a loop more often than is probably necessary. Ergo, Jungkook killed this era.

Full disclosure: I don’t really like this song. I did my best, though, to figure out which members interested me the most despite the fact that I don’t listen this song regularly like I do with most of the others. I would assume that the majority of people would probably list Namjoon and Jungkook along with Jimin in their top 3, but hey.

Taehyung: This is probably another confusing placement for Taehyung, but the pre-chorus he sang fit his voice nicely, or at least, his voice as it sounded back then. I don’t really think anyone stood out vocally in this song besides Jimin, but Taehyung put a little umph in his vocal, so it was nice since the pre-chorus is the catchiest part of this song for me.

Yoongi: Yoongi had the most interesting rap verse in this song, in my opinion. Like I said, I’m still not crazy about this song, but I thought Yoongi’s delivery of his verse was pretty engaging to listen to.

Jimin: Jimin almost feels like the only person in this song because his vocal sticks out so much. Not that I think the other members sound bad, because I think they all kill every song they do; it’s just the way this song sounds fit really well with Jimin’s vocal tone. Jimin ended up owned this era for me because he was so central to the sound this song was trying to produce.

I’m actually not sure what people’s top 3 would be for this song if we were talking about the majority of people. I’d guess probably Jungkook, Suga, and Namjoon? This song came down to the rap verses a lot more than I thought it would, but I guess that’s because a lot of BTS’s pre-2016 upbeat singles had diversity in the rap line while the vocalists had repetitive hooks and choruses.

Taehyung: I told y’all my bias was strong. I’m not putting Taehyung down for the sake of putting Taehyung down, though. I’ll be honest: besides the people in my top 3, I thought everyone did equally well with this song. Taehyung’s vocal stuck out just a little bit more for me than the other vocalists’. Just a bit. When Taehyung flips into his falsetto, it’s always really interesting to listen to. This is the first of many songs where, since the vocalists’ parts are repetitive and they all share the same parts, it really comes down to personal preference for vocal color; I just happen to like Taehyung’s.

Jungkook: I know Jungkook sings in this song, but his rap verse was lit as fuck. I don’t know how to talk about it in a way that makes sense, but listening to it is satisfying, you know? It’s an absolutely kickass way to open the song after the intro. I do think the parts where Jungkook sang fit his vocal tone particularly well. It’s not always the case with BTS songs that every member has a part that is made for their vocal tone--that’d be impossible to do--but they always sound good regardless. Sometimes, though, you get a piece of a song that fits the person singing it so well that it can’t be any other way, and that’s how I felt about Jungkook in this song.

Yoongi: As much as I love Jungkook’s rap verse, Yoongi murdered this song. Every time I listen to this song, my attention is snatched by Yoongi, full stop. I could be listening to this in the background, spacing out any type of detail from the song, but when Yoongi spits fire, I pay attention. I will say this again about other members in other eras, but Yoongi’s verse makes this song, which is why he owns this era.

This song has staying power, y’all. The rest of BTS’s older music sounds really nostalgic, but Boy in Luv just sounds like the kickass song that it is. I think most people’s rating of this era would be fairly similar to mine except for Yoongi. I imagine most people would gravitate toward Jin or Jimin. Honestly, picking the second and third members was really difficult because this song gave everyone parts that were perfect for them.

Yoongi: I don’t know if I should apologize for being so linear in my choices, but Yoongi is badass in this song. His rap verse said “listen boy,” and I’m still not over it. I usually don’t vibe with every rap verse like I did in this song, but even though all the rap verses were interesting, I landed on Yoongi because he caught my attention a bit more.

Jungkook: I think one of my favorite things ever in any BTS song is Jungkook’s rap verse in Boy In Luv. The percussiveness of it and the staccato way he delivers it are just so interesting to listen to. It’s also a really fun rap verse, but it’s dynamic, too. I want to acknowledge that if Jungkook had just been on the chorus, I would probably have stuck Jimin in my top 3 because his vocals have just a touch more texture in them during the chorus, but Jungkook also killed the chorus and the rap, so Jungkook it is.

Taehyung: I mean. From what I’ve seen of other people’s opinions of Boy In Luv, most of them agree that Taehyung had hella presence in this song. The distortion he puts on his voice, the growling, the parts of the song he ended up singing--it all contributed to him owning this era because it’s one of those moments where he fit the concept so well. Every member has a song or two like this under their belts where they embody the song, and this is one of Taehyung’s.

This is another song that I don’t really like, so don’t @ me for my opinions about this one. I did my best, fam. I think nearly everyone thinks Jungkook owned this era, and I imagine they would also include Jin and Jimin.

Taehyung: Not to be rude to the other members--including Taehyung--but since I didn’t find this song all that interesting, it made it hard to pick the second and third members. I don’t really think anybody but Jungkook stuck out. Taehyung’s verse was melodic and nice, though. Even though the “party party” part was dumb. Since, again, it’s a repetitive song, it came down to who’s vocal tone I liked the best. Taehyung’s vocal color is the most unique vocal color I’ve heard from any male artist, so slot number 3 he goes.

Yoongi: Again, this was mostly about whose rap verse I preferred because I’d already made my decisions about the vocalists. This isn’t a song where the rap verses stuck out at all for me, but Yoongi’s was percussive, so it was an interesting addition to the flow of the song.

Jungkook: I mean, this is a Jungkook song, you know? There are Namjoon songs and Hobi songs and Jin songs, and this one was Jungkook song. I don’t think he did anything spectacular with his vocals--which isn’t about him as a vocalist; it’s about the song itself not being dynamic enough to allow him to show off his vocals--but the way he used his voice in this song fit the tone of the song exactly. Taehyung usually has the monopoly on really gentle vocals for me, but Jungkook did really well with it in this song.

This one may get me some flack. Listen, there are parts of this song that I don’t really like--I will not say which parts--but most of it is fire as fuck, and I listen to this all the time. I know most people love Jungkook, Jimin, and Jin in this song. I get that. If I was being objective, I would agree with you. However, that’s the joy of opinions.

Jungkook: I know I said I’m not considering the choreo/MV as much, but Jungkook’s shoulders are loud, you know? Anyway, Jungkook fit this song really well. Actually, I think this is another song that everyone got a part that was meant for them. Jungkook did sound fire on the chorus, no doubt about it, but his rap verse was really dynamic, and Jungkook performed it really well. I have nothing bad to say about Jungkook in this song because it wouldn’t sound as good without his vocal tone.

Jimin: Look, I love Jimin’s sweet vocal tone that he’s used for most of BTS’s career; I even prefer it over his old vocal tone. However, sometimes you hear a song with Jimin’s deeper vocal tone where he puts distortion on his voice, and it slaps you in the face. This is one of those times. I mean, the part they gave him was perfect for what he was doing with his voice at this time. I think, in terms of uniqueness, Jimin would win every time in a debate about the Danger era’s top 3 members.

Taehyung: I barely ever see Taehyung mentioned when it comes to Danger, so this is probably an unpopular opinion, but his parts in Danger make the song. I’m not talking about the chorus--though I’m happy he actually sang in a good chunk of this song since he hadn’t been previously. In fact, I’m pretty sure Jungkook’s vocals were mixed louder than Taehyung’s vocals on the second half of the chorus--which was Taehyung’s part--during the production process. You can hear Taehyung, but Jungkook also sounds really clear on top of Taehyung’s voice. Anyway, what I’m talking about is the hook of the song. The money piece. This has happened more than once with Taehyung, and he always kills it. I vibe with the chorus, but the hook sticks in my head more than anything. So, for me, Taehyung owns this era.

I don’t understand what it is about this song that makes it so good, but it’s a bop. I still think, if I was thinking objectively, that my ranking would close to the same. Some people might choose Hobi over Namjoon or something like that, but ya know.

Jungkook: He’s so cute in this song, isn’t he? I know he’s supposed to come off as a bad boy, but he’s adorable. His parts in this song are really good though, and not just his rap verse. He’s used opposite Taehyung in this song, which was a really good choice. Jimin and Taehyung have the most opposite vocal tones in BTS, so they’re often played off of one another, but sometimes Jungkook’s vocals contrast really beautifully with Taehyung’s. Going from Taehyung’s richness to Jungkook’s clean and smooth vocals is really nice, so I appreciate Jungkook a lot in this song.

Namjoon: The way Namjoon opens this song is rad. It’s so distinct, and it’s the exact right tone to set the song off properly. It’s so damn catchy. Everyone in the rap line has really animated styles of rapping, but Namjoon is usually the most animated, and it really lent itself nicely to War of Hormone. Having him open this song was the best choice ever.

Taehyung: This is a Taehyung song, 1,000%. It was obviously supposed to be a Taehyung song, probably because of his vocal tone, though I’m sure his visual had a lot to do with it, too. Something happened to Taehyung with this single. It was like, all of a sudden, he found his charisma, and he’s been killing us all ever since. I don’t mean this in a negative way for the other members, but all the umph in this song comes from Taehyung. I think that’s how it should be because, if everyone had a vocal that sounded like Taehyung’s, it’d be too much--that’s why I like the way Jungkook’s voice compliments Taehyung’s. The parts of this song Taehyung had embellished the song perfectly, and it did wonders to show off Taehyung’s talent. The tone of this song just works with Taehyung at the center. Growling, attitude, stage presence, and all; Taehyung definitely owned the War of Hormone era.

I’ve got to say, BTS songs like this are catchy, but not something I pay attention to when I listen to them. I Need U, RUN, and Save ME are all like that. On top of that, they’re all pretty repetitive songs, and it’s hard to find each member individually in them--at least for me--so choosing the top 3 was difficult. I know a lot of people agree that Jimin owned this era, same with Yoongi. I imagine the third one, if I wasn’t being too opinionated about it, would probably be Jungkook.

Taehyung: So, Taehyung doesn’t have a lot going on in this song unless you consider the MV--which I’m trying not to do too much. I think, for this song though, the MV did come into play a bit more since it was basically a short film. Still, if I was only talking about the MV, Taehyung would be number 1. However, vocally, there wasn’t a whole heck of a lot to go on. The reason he made my list, though, is that his vocals still stuck out to me despite the amount of lines he had. Taehyung’s got soul; we all know this. Any time he sings in this song, my mind goes, “Oh?” because, even though it doesn’t happen a lot, it lends a lot to the tone of the song.

Yoongi: For someone who doesn’t really love this song, I have to say that Yoongi’s part is really the only part that hits me. His vocal color and the way he decided to use his voice for his verse was gorgeous. It’s one of those vocal takes where the vocal jumps out above the mix, and it almost doesn’t matter what’s happening with the instrumental because the vocal is so nice. Again, this is something that happens with all the members, and I try to acknowledge them when I think it’s happened. So, here’s to Yoongi for killing it.

Jimin: When I think of I Need U, the only thing I think about is Jimin. I know you’ve got Jungkook on the chorus, as well, but Jimin’s vocal tone is the thing that sticks in my head. It’s so perfectly matched with the song and the production that it’s easier to find Jimin in this song than it is to find really stark evidence of the other members--again, that’s more to do with the song than with the members. This song just happened to fit Jimin’s voice in a special way, which is why he owned the era.

So, I’m gonna do the Japanese singles, too, because they have MVs and all that. However, fair warning, these singles usually end up coming down to whose vocal tone I prefer since they’re usually softer songs that lean more on the vocalists than the rappers. Jungkook is the center of MV, so I think he’d be most people’s number 1. After that, I’d think people would choose Jin and Yoongi, but that’s just a guess.

Jin: For You basically has Jungkook, Jin, and Taehyung each sing the chorus, so that’s why it comes down to vocal tone, especially since I think the vocalists stuck out more than the rappers in this song. I loved Jin’s light tone on the chorus of For You. His falsettos can sound different in different songs, but in For You, it was so delicate, and I loved it a lot. Jin usually fits really well in softer songs that still have a bit of pop to them, so he did well in this song.

Jungkook: I know this was probably meant to be a Jungkook song, so don’t @ me. It’s a song that’s set up for a very Jungkook vocal, if that makes sense. As in, it was made for Jungkook. He has a really nice, clean, smooth tone to his vocal in For You, and it’s pleasant to listen to. I think he went a bit softer with his vocal takes in this song to fit the tone, so it took some of the natural character out of his voice, but it was perfect for the tone of the song. Jungkook’s voice blended really nicely into the mix, so I like hearing him in For You a lot.

Taehyung: I don’t know if people out there prefer cleaner vocals in a song like this, but I really loved how Taehyung’s vocal sounded like it was changing the tone of the song. I do think that Jungkook and Jin’s vocals are probably best for the majority of the song, but the diversity that comes out of giving Taehyung a chorus is awesome. It saves the song from being flat. Taehyung’s deep vocal tone always sounds gorgeous, especially in softer songs, but he didn’t decide to use a gentle voice in this song like Jin and Jungkook did; his voice was a lot fuller and more forward, and I liked what it did in For You quite a bit.

This is the beginning of the “beat fetish” era of music--i.e., songs that are heavily dependent on the drop, which becomes almost a chorus on its own. Dope is a beat fetish song, and BTS has a few of them; thankfully, when BTS makes songs that are dependent on the instrumental to add character, it always sounds bomb. I know most people agree that Jungkook and Jimin kill in this era, so objectively, I think I’m on the same track, but I think I differ when it comes to Yoongi because I imagine most people would prefer Namjoon.

Yoongi: I just love his sections of this song. That’s it. I don’t really have a reason for liking his rap verses more than Hobi’s or Namjoon’s; I just find myself vibing more to Yoongi’s. I mean, Yoongi’s verse has a lot more bass to it than the other verses, and for a song that depends on the beat, it was nice to get some instrumentality out of Yoongi’s voice on top of the music itself. Plus, he’s got the “enemy enemy enemy; energy energy energy” part, which I freakin’ love.

Jimin: Jimin really sticks out in this song. There are very few BTS songs where it feels like Jimin has a lot of time in the spotlight as a support for Jungkook, but it did feel like that in Dope, and it was kind of cool. I don’t know that Dope needs a bunch of different vocal tones to make it work, and Jimin and Jungkook can sound very similar in songs of this genre. It worked really well to switch between Jungkook and Jimin with just a slight difference in vocal color coming through. That little bit of variation was interesting, and Jimin’s specific vocal tone shone nicely.

Jungkook: If ever there were a Jungkook song, my friends, this is it. It’s similar to Jimin in We Are Bulletproof Pt.2--that is to say, it’s almost like Jungkook is the only one in this song. Obviously, that isn’t true, and the other members stick out more in this song than in We Are Bulletproof Pt.2, but Jungkook is so clearly the face of this song. His voice is exactly what this song needs because the beat is so intense and Jungkook’s vocals are clean but with just enough grit added to complement the instrumental. Jungkook made this era his bitch, y’all.

As I’ve said, this is one of those background songs for me, and it really comes down to whose vocal tone I personally prefer. It’s not even about whose vocal tone blends in the best; it’s just about what sounds interesting to me. I think, objectively, the top three of this era would be Jungkook, Jimin, and maybe Namjoon. This is another one where, for everyone, the MV did touch my opinions on the rankings a bit. But I actually think the coolest parts of the MV align with what I have ranked already--except for the fact that Yoongi isn’t on my list despite having an amazing scene in the MV--so it worked out.

Taehyung: Taehyung’s voice just kills in songs like this. I know I keep harping on his vocal tone--and that’s not stopping any time soon--but his voice adds emotion to this song. It’s not a gentle vocal exactly, but it’s breathy; because his voice is also deep, it combined nicely to push the song into the chorus and then kick off the bridge. Actually, I adore Taehyung’s voice in the bridge because he puts a lot of character into it with his vibrato and the bends in his voice.

Jungkook: Like Jimin in I Need U, Jungkook permeates this song. The vocals for RUN scream Jungkook, to me, because he’s consistently lending his smooth vocal tone to the entire song. It’s a song that needs consistency since it’s quite repetitive. Again, it’s hard to find individuality with this song, though not as hard as it is with I Need U; rather than individuality, you have Jungkook’s clear vocal consistency that provides a nice foundation for the song to sit on, and that’s what makes it work.

J-Hope: Hobi’s verse in RUN was something else. Melodically, I think it was the most interesting part of this song. It sounds so different when compared to the rest of the RUN; I mean, it still sounds like part of the song, but it almost sounds like they wrote his verse for something else and put it in this song instead, and doing that made the sickest section of RUN come to life. I absolutely love Hobi in this song; I vibe so hard. I’m giving the era to J-Hope.

Is this, like, a weird song to include on this list as an era? They filmed stuff specifically for this MV, right? That’s why I’m here. Whatever, we’re gonna talk about it. I don’t love this song, if I’m honest, but I wanted to be thorough, so I’ve got some opinions. I think, objectively, Taehyung would still be on the list, and probably Jin, too. I’m sure other people may choose Jimin or Jungkook, but it’s a short song, so who knows?

Jin: Jin’s vocal tone has so much texture to it in this song. He uses, like, intentional vocal cracks to add character into the vocal, and it really works. Vocal cracks can add a lot of emotion to a vocal take if they’re used correctly, and Jin is a master at it. Again, there isn’t much to say since this is a short song, but Jin sang beautifully.

J-Hope: So good, his rap verse is. He has the same melody as Yoongi in the beginning of his verse--and both of them sound great--but then Hobi’s melody changes and, all of a sudden, the music stops and Hobi continues rapping, and it’s so impactful. It’s hard to explain, but it’s a moment that gets your heart beating a little bit faster. I don’t love much of this song, but the end of Hobi’s verse is really special.

Taehyung: This is one of the few songs from before 2018 where Taehyung’s voice shoots through the entire song. He just has the “forever, we are young” lyric, but it’s sung so often, and it’s basically the center of the song. That notion is going to come up again in a minute, but anyway. Plus, Taehyung’s vocal color works well with the grandiose tone of this track. So, Taehyung owned the era for me since I feel like his vocal was central to the song’s overall sound.

We’re here with another repetitive, beat fetish song, but y’all, this is one of the most iconic songs of all time. Most, if not all, people say Yoongi owned this era. Then people would probably choose Jin and Jungkook. As this song is so repetitive for the vocalists--like, legit, three out of the four of them basically had one melody to sing over and over--I think it really comes down to which parts they gave the members and which parts I personally thought were more important to the song’s iconic reputation.

Jimin: No joke--even though this sounds like a joke--Jimin’s “la la la la la” part is one of the things that makes this song amazing. He killed it because he switched out the sweetness in his voice for something with a little more bass, and it came out perfectly. Don’t get me wrong; Jungkook’s “eh eh oh eh oh” is iconic, too; I just thought Jimin’s build into the chorus was so badass that I couldn’t leave him off the top 3 list.

Taehyung: Look, if Yoongi’s verse was different, Taehyung would number 1 in the FIRE era. I know he sings the same line over and over, but it’s the hook. It’s literally the part of the song that even people who don’t know K-pop is a thing know. I know this because I heard Taehyung’s part in this song everywhere when it came out, and I didn’t even know it was a BTS song. If you’re not counting the first line of the song, I really think Taehyung has the most iconic and memorable part in FIRE. Plus, the way he delivers it is absolutely perfect, and it’s legit all the song is for the last minute. No shade to the other members because they all have things that only they can do, but no one could pull of Taehyung’s line like Taehyung did. It’s such an important piece to this song, so I feel like Taehyung has to rank in the top 3.

Yoongi: After saying all that, even I can’t deny that this was Yoongi’s era to shine. As iconic as his opening line was, if that was all he had in this song, Yoongi wouldn’t have been able to own FIRE. It’s his rap verse that sticks out. He growls in his verse, did you know that? Holy shit, it sounds so cool. The entire verse a full ass mood, and I love it to bits. It’s got to be one of my favorite Yoongi verses in a BTS song. He was in his element in this era. Absolute legend.

This is another song that really comes down to how much I love the vocal takes since it’s really repetitive. I didn’t vibe with rap verses in this song, but that could just be because I don’t vibe with this song in general. Objectively, this is Jungkook, Jimin, and either Taehyung or Jin’s era. The reason I didn’t include Jimin isn’t because I don’t like his vocal tone in this song; I just went with the vocal characteristics that jumped out to me.

Jin: I’ve said this already, but Jin’s vocal texture is really nice in songs like this. I feel like, if I try and describe his voice, people are going to take it the wrong way, but his vocals are a bit more nasal and thin than the other members’, and it allowed him to sound really unique in Save ME. It added a lot of flavor to the song.

Jungkook: I know Jungkook is usually listed as number 1 for this era, and I don’t think that’s wrong. This is another song where Jungkook’s voice blends. It’s like the song was made for him, which is probably why he seems to permeate the whole song. The clear quality of his voice is really nice for Save ME.

Taehyung: My bias has decided that Taehyung’s vocal color is gorgeous in this song. No, honestly, even if I’m being objective, there’s still something to be said for how Taehyung contributes to Save ME. This is song that needs a little bit of soul, you know? And Taehyung’s falsetto is bit raspy in Save ME, which I think lends a lot to the emotion this song is trying to convey. Who owned this era will probably have very different answers depending on who you talk to; for me, though, it goes to Taehyung.

Objectively, Hobi and Jimin are always going to top this era, and I think most people would add Jin into the list. This is one of those songs where I disagree with the popular opinion just a bit--though there will be songs later where I almost entirely disagree with the popular opinion. Keep in mind, I’m focusing on vocal first and performance second. So, yes, if I’m talking about the MV, Jin absolutely sticks out. It’s just that my interests were drawn to other members vocally.

J-Hope: It really came down to the hook of the song, for me. I like Yoongi’s rap verse a little bit better, but Hobi is so freaking iconic on the hook of this song. That’s not to say that his rap verse was bad, though, because the rhythm it has is addicting. It’s a really good, intense vocal take that leads into the sharp decline of the chorus since the chorus is softer in the first half. The hook is where it’s at, though. Honestly, what a legendary part of this song Hobi has. And his voice pulls it off like no one else could--though Jungkook does do a wonderful job, too.

Taehyung: His voice just sounds so interesting in this song. I know some people may prefer Jungkook on the chorus because his voice is clearer while Taehyung’s is more delicate, but that’s why I like it so much. It sounds fragile, and Jimin and Jungkook chose a really forward sound for the chorus, so Taehyung stuck out a lot to me. At the end of the vocal run in the chorus, too, he puts a bit of static into his vocal to come down into his chest voice from his falsetto, and it sounds stunning.

Jimin: This is a Jimin song through and through. I love the diversity you get with Taehyung’s voice, but I also think Jimin’s sweet vocal color is a necessity for this song to sound amazing. Of course, Jimin sticks out in the MV, as well, but his vocals really made Blood Sweat & Tears special. Jimin also alternates between breathiness and full voice in a really masterful way, and it gives a lot of character to his vocal takes. Jimin owns this era, hands down.

This song deserves a Grammy, for real. I’m gonna make a post about that later, so I won’t get into it now, but damn, this song is phenomenal. I’m gonna get flack for my choices on this one, and I’ve accepted it. It’s such a gorgeous song that it’s hard to pick who stuck out, even if I’m being opinionated. Objectively, Jin, Jimin, and maybe Jungkook would probably be in the top 3, but there’s character in everybody’s voice in Spring Day.

Jin: Jin has this uncanny ability to sound ethereal when he sings, and it really showed in Spring Day. Jin was the perfect person to use to end this song; the uniqueness in his voice was a really impactful way to bookend Spring Day because it made it feel like a journey that had just ended. So much story was told through Jin’s voice in this song.

Namjoon: Namjoon sounds so fucking beautiful in Spring Day. If Jin was the perfect member to close out this song, Namjoon was the perfect one to begin it. He sounds gorgeous. I’m not gonna be over it for a long time, my friends. He should sing more, honestly; Namjoon’s voice is so smooth and relaxing. I adore him in Spring Day like nobody’s business.

Taehyung: I don’t know if this an unpopular opinion? So, Taehyung sounds phenomenal when he has to go up into the higher part of his range--which is a lot since most of the BTS songs are made for tenors, and he’s the only baritone. His vocal color is remarkably consistent, in a way that I haven’t heard with any other artist, all the way up his range, and it allows him to maintain the soulfulness in his voice regardless of what register he’s in. The way that manifested in Spring Day resulted in some of the most beautiful vocal takes I’ve ever heard. The vocal cracks, Taehyung’s deep tone, the breathiness snapping into heavy chest voice; it’s all so beautiful. His vocal at the beginning of the bridge is honestly one of my favorite vocal takes from any BTS song. I love it. This song is already emotional, but the way Taehyung’s vocals hit me in Spring Day is why I think he owned this era.

Most people agree that the rap line killed this song, right? That’s probably the top 3 for most fans. I don’t know if I’m gonna convey this properly, but this song is borderline dirty hip hop, right? It’s got really grungy beats, raps, and vocals, so that’s why I say that. The only other song like that in BTS’s discography--that’s a single, obviously, because there’s a good chunk of dirty hip hop B-side tracks--is MIC Drop. This is a preface for what I’m about to talk about, so bear with me.

Namjoon: I had a hard time picking between Namjoon and Hobi for my number 3, but both of Namjoon’s verses were animated in really contrasting ways, and that interested me a lot. The first one was brighter, and the second one had a lot more bass to it. I don’t know if this is the right way to explain it, but Namjoon’s pronunciation in his second verse was so satisfying. It isn’t exactly percussive, but it’s something close--like onomatopoeia--and I enjoy listening to it a lot.

Taehyung: Okay, I’m going to die on this hill--and I’ll bring it up again later--but when it comes to dirty hip hop, if you’re gonna have a vocal on it, Taehyung is always gonna sound bomb. This song isn’t quite the best representation of that because Taehyung doesn’t have that many parts, but you still get the idea. The natural bass in his voice plus the growl and distortion he uses in songs like this stands out in a big way. It’s the perfect accompaniment to a rap-heavy song like Not Today, which is a big compliment considering the vocals in songs like this aren’t usually meant to stand out as much as the rap verses are.

Yoongi: I don’t think I need to explain, but I will anyway. You get the intro with Namjoon, and then you come straight into Yoongi’s verse, and it’s such a satisfying way to start this track. Yoongi’s verse is definitely percussive and it works with the instrumental underneath so well. It’s somehow calm and exciting to listen to, and it gets you really hyped up right away. Yoongi does great things with his voice, too, because it sits really low before snapping up and then going back down; it’s so dynamic. What an icon, honestly. Yoongi kills the Not Today era.

What a pretty MV, you know? Not to throw shade, but whoever said Jungkook and Taehyung should have weird green accents in their hair was wack--even if it was the two of them that said it. Of course, I mean that in the best way possible because they look awesome; everyone looks fine as hell in the DNA MV. Anyway, so I think my top 3 is pretty common besides the fact that I don’t have Hobi. I know this is the “J-Hooooooooooooope” era, and I apologize. If I was just considering the MV and the choreo, Hobi would be number 1. Just know I freakin’ stan Hobi in DNA, okay?

Yoongi: Yoongi’s verse in this song has always stuck out to me a lot. It’s got a lot of pop to it, you know? Plus, after his first little verse, he sings opposite Jungkook, and it’s one of my favorite parts of DNA. Between the sweet vocals of Jimin and Jungkook that dominate the last half of the song and Namjoon’s verse that had a lot of bass, it was nice to have Yoongi pull the two halves of the song together with lower vocal that still sounded bright.

Jungkook: Y’all, Jungkook was absolute perfection in this song. I don’t know what it is, but the parts Jungkook had were tailor made for him. I’d say this is one of the few BTS songs post-2015 where Jungkook’s voice has a sweeter tone to it than Jimin’s, and it really works. It absolutely supports DNA the entire way through. Even though Jungkook’s voice blends into the mix seamlessly, he doesn’t get lost in it, and that’s why he stood out to me.

Taehyung: You would be hard-pressed to find someone who doesn’t think this was Taehyung’s era. Obviously, some people don’t think that, but so many people agree that Taehyung is the face of DNA, and that’s so funny to me because he almost disappears after the beginning of the song. He’s got the intro, the first pre-chorus with Jungkook, and a couple lines in the bridge, but that’s it, and somehow most people ardently agree that Taehyung owns this era. Obviously, I am one of them. I mean, he barely ever gets to use his voice like he does in DNA; the depth is extraordinary. It sounds absolutely stunning. It’s 100% the key vocal in DNA, and it makes total sense as to why. Taehyung dominates this era, for real.

I know, I know; most people’s top 3 would be the rap line, but sue me, okay? This song is the real power of BTS, to me, because I love it even though I do not vibe with the rap genre in any type of way. This song is hella rap-heavy, and I think it’s bomb. Iconic, even.

Taehyung: Listen, I have things to say. You know what I said about Taehyung and rap-heavy songs. This song makes me a want a rap line B-side song with Taehyung as the vocalist so badly. Give me an album with Jin, Jungkook, and Jimin killing the vocal game on one song and Taehyung plus the rap line killing a dirty hip hop song like this, please. It would be absolutely epic. Taehyung’s distortion, growls, vocal color, all of it, lend themselves so well to this era. He’s got the same lines and melodies as the rest of the vocalists, but because he’s got grit, it sounds like this song was meant for him. The rest of the vocalists do amazingly, too, but Taehyung sticks way the fuck out to me.

J-Hope: Alright, I know Hobi is number 1 on most people’s list, and I apologize. I agree that Hobi killed this song. His vocal at the beginning is fabulous. He intentionally makes it sound more whiny and nasal, and it’s perfect. Hobi is such a vibe in this song.

Yoongi: It was very difficult deciding who to put down as the one who owned this era, but I had to give it to Yoongi because of his delivery. He also made his voice thinner like Hobi, and it lent itself nicely to his rap verse, especially since the vocal was really animated. Yoongi puts distortion on the end of his lines, too, and it sounds amazing. I could listen to Yoongi spit fire on this song for days.

I have opinions about this song. I’m fully aware that, objectively, the top 3 would be Jungkook, Jin, and Jimin, but like I said--opinions. This is another iconic BTS song--at least, in my opinion. Just like with FIRE, I remember hearing this song everywhere before I started listening to BTS. I’m gonna say some things now that you may not agree with, and that’s fine because this is a fun post to make, and I’m excited to see what everyone thinks; just know every BTS member is an icon in my eyes.

Jin: Yo, Jin sounds so fire in this song. In the MV, I’d say he sticks out a touch more than he does if you only consider the vocal, but the vocal is still astounding. It’s not really the range I’m impressed with because Jin is a countertenor, so the C5s he’s hitting are well within his comfort range, but the tone he has when he hits them is remarkable. They’re so clear, but they still have character to them. I stan.

Jungkook: So, Jungkook mostly has the same melodies as Taehyung in this song, which makes sense because Jungkook’s comfort range is slightly below Jimin and Jin’s--though above Taehyung’s. I think the way Jungkook sounds on the chorus is gorgeous. It’s similar to War of Hormone, where his clean vocals bounce off of Taehyung’s--which, in FAKE LOVE, happens in the first chorus--and it sounds so nice. Jungkook goes for narrower vowels, and it makes his vocal takes sound slightly thinner, so it adds an interesting dimension to the song since Taehyung goes wider on the same parts.

Taehyung: Here are my opinions; are you ready? For the life of me, I don’t understand why people stan Taehyung’s deep vocals in DNA and then don’t think the same thing about FAKE LOVE. The way Taehyung sounds opening up this song is just as impactful, to me, as his intro in DNA was. Plus, him singing the melody while Jimin sang the harmony at the end of this song sounded beautiful. The real shit, though, is the chorus. Taehyung’s vocal texture on the chorus is it, fam. I’m not going to say anything about anybody else because people can absolutely love different members as much as I love Taehyung, but to me, Taehyung’s vocal on the chorus was the stand out piece in FAKE LOVE by far. The emotion he conveys and the texture in his voice make him, undoubtedly, the top in this era, for me.

Is this another song where people stan the rap line? It’s more of a beat fetish song than a rap-heavy song, but still. Actually, I guess the top 3 would objectively include Jimin and Jin along with Namjoon, right? Anyway. I didn’t like this song at first, but it grew on me. It was definitely hard to rank, though.

Yoongi: Another fire Yoongi verse lives within this song. He’s so aggressive, you know? He uses that distortion that I love coming from Yoongi, and he does those yips that I stan. It’s a good verse in the first place, but Yoongi really brings it to life and adds a lot of grit to it, so I love it a lot.

Taehyung: I feel largely the same about Taehyung in this song as I do about Taehyung in Not Today and MIC Drop. First of all, Taehyung growls in this song, so that’s iconic and nostalgic at the same time. Second of all, how about that pre-chorus, huh? Again, I don’t want to directly compare him to the other members because everyone is bomb in this song, but Taehyung’s deep voice really brought out the best in the pre-chorus. Besides that, the vocalists kind of just went “oh oh ooh oh,” so my analysis ends here.

Namjoon: I really think Namjoon’s first, opening line in this song is one of the most iconic parts of BTS’s career. If I’m being totally honest, I vibe with Yoongi’s verse more, but Namjoon’s presence in IDOL is so strong that I can’t deny him the title of owning this era. He’s definitely the face of IDOL, and he deserves it because he’s a king.

Alright, so this is one of the most unique songs I’ve heard BTS produce, but it’s not one of my favorites. As such, I ended up being a bit more objective than usual because I don’t have the experience with this song to develop hardcore opinions on who should be in the top 3. I imagine most people would say Jimin, and then maybe Jin and Hobi, as well.

Jin: Jin is not on this list because of “el mariajin,” but that meme is iconic. Jin’s nasally tone really made this song sound special during his parts. It was interesting to listen to him sing because it sounded like it really fit his voice and didn’t at the same time. I absolutely mean that in the best way because I think that kind of disconnect between a song’s tone and the singer can be really fun if it isn’t the case because the singer is a bad match. So, I think Jin’s vocal was awesome and engaging in this track.

Taehyung: This song is another one where Taehyung gets to flex his lower register, and it sounds really pretty. I don’t feel like a lot goes on in this song, so it was hard to rank people, but I really liked Taehyung’s voice against the instrumental. This is a unique genre for BTS, and I think Taehyung’s voice found an interesting place in it that I liked a lot.

Jimin: I’d say this is pretty close to being a Jimin song. His vocal stands out so much on the chorus. This song needs Jimin’s sweet tone for it to pull of what it wants to, so the fact that Jimin got a good chunk of the key vocal in this track helped it a lot. I’m not sure what else to say about it, but Jimin’s voice really fit this genre.

This song is a vibe and a half. Weirdly, I thought it was too generic the first time I listened to it, but now I adore it. Objectively, I think my ranking would still be the same as my opinionated ranking. Well, Jimin and Yoongi might trade places or Jin might replace Yoongi, but whatever.

Jimin: Y’all I was so convinced this was supposed to be a Jimin song when I was first exposed to it. He’s got the sweet tone that matches exactly with the genre of this song, and his voice compliments Halsey’s so well. Jimin really milked his vocal color for all it was worth in this song, and it shows. He did amazingly.

Yoongi: Yoongi’s verse is a bop, guys. It almost sounds lazy the way Yoongi delivers it, and it adds so much character to the song. It’s also pretty animated considering that this song is quite mellow, and it offered a nice contrast between everybody else and Yoongi. I kind of want to bounce up and down every time I hear his verse. Don’t know if that helps convey my feelings about it or not.

Taehyung: Taehyung’s voice in this song is flirting if flirting was a sound. Like I said, I thought Jimin was meant to be the center for this song, but I’ve seen a lot of “Who Owned Each BTS Era” videos, and not a one of them has failed to put Taehyung in the number 1 spot for the Boy With Luv era. I, like, totally get it, though. The way Taehyung presents his voice in this song is somehow gentle and light, but it still has a bottom to it, if that makes sense. And his falsettos on the second pre-chorus? Shut up. This is one of those songs where Taehyung’s specific accent and pronunciation make the song so much better. I absolutely agree with people that this was Taehyung’s era.

This is one of my absolute favorite BTS songs. First of all, it’s relaxing as fuck to listen to, and second of all, the vocalists really did that, you know? This song is hard for Jungkook, who isn’t a countertenor, and it’s hard for a baritone like Taehyung, and they still slapped in Lights. I don’t know what I would say objectively about this song. I mean, objectively, looking at the members’ vocal ranges, Taehyung would still top the list because he had the hardest job. Then I’d probably say Jungkook and Jin.

Yoongi: I know I just said a bunch of shit about the vocalists, but Yoongi’s verse is so pretty. Relaxation is guaranteed upon listening to his verse. It’s kind of a rap, but it’s also kind of singing, and Yoongi’s voice is so lovely to listen to. I want to give a shout-out to Hobi, though, because I almost gave this spot to him. I just thought the melodies in Yoongi’s verse were a touch more pleasing.

Jungkook: Again, Jungkook used narrower vowels in Lights because that’s how he sings comfortably when he’s a bit higher into his range, and it pulled a beautiful tone out of him. His vocals were really gorgeous in this song. Once again, he had a nice contrast singing opposite Taehyung, so it made me appreciate his vocals even more.

Taehyung: Y’all Taehyung being able to sing this high up into his range for the whole song is already impressive, but also having to hit two Bb4s and a C5 on top of that is hella impressive for a baritone. Not only that, but his vocal color sounds stunning when he’s up that high. I said this earlier, but his vocal tone is consistent regardless of the register he’s in, and the way he mixes on the high notes is gorgeous for that reason. It still sounded intense and full and deep despite it being close to the top of his range. This song is a banger regardless, but Taehyung’s vocals are what make me listen to it so often because they’re so special to listen to. He definitely owned this era.

So, I stuck Make It Right on this list because, even though it didn’t have a MV filmed for it, it was still a song which got two MV versions--even though they were almost exactly the same--so I figured it read as more of a single than the songs that were called singles but didn’t get an MV, like Don’t Leave Me. I have no clue who would be the top 3 if you think about it objectively, but I think it’d probably be the either the maknae line or two of the maknae line and Jin.

Jimin: So, this is a repetitive song; it’s a really calming song, so the repetition isn’t bad, but repetitive it still is. Therefore, I was paying attention to vocal color more than anything, and Jimin’s light tone sounded so beautiful in Make It Right. First of all, he does sing a bit deeper in the beginning of this song, and that’s really nice because Jimin’s voice has a lot of character when he’s either lower in his range or belting. Secondly, Jimin’s falsetto in this song is so pretty. There are a few songs where his falsetto can sound much the same as Jin’s or Jungkook’s, but I thought Jimin’s falsetto jumped out a lot in Make It Right.

J-Hope: Hobi sang the same melody that Taehyung and Jimin did on the verse, but it was just a bit different, and I adore it. Hobi’s vocal color isn’t heard nearly enough, and when it gets to be front and center in a song like this, I love it. He’s usually the one in the rap line with the highest vocal tone, but when he sings, he comes out with this lovely, low tone that blows me away every time I hear it. In Make It Right, it made the melodies during Hobi’s part feel special, and there was just a touch of static on his vocal, as well, that brought the verse to life.

Taehyung: I don’t know if this was intentional, but Taehyung’s vocal in the Make It Right chorus sounded like it was mixed to be the main vocal. I don’t know if that’s because this song sounds like it was made for his vocal tone or not, but if I listen to the “oh, oh, I can make it right; alright, alright; oh, oh, I can make it right” lyric, I hear Taehyung’s voice on top and everybody else underneath. It’s gorgeous, though. That’s why I feel like this is his era because his voice runs throughout the entire song in a way that doesn’t happen often with Taehyung. The solo parts he had in this song were done beautifully, as well, because you got to hear him sing in his soft, full voice and then flip into the airy falsetto that sticks out in any song it’s in. I don’t know, I just thought Taehyung’s vocal sounded exceptional in Make It Right, which is why it reads as a Taehyung song to me, as well as a Taehyung era.

Y’all about to fight me in the replies over this one, I already know. ON and Black Swan are the two eras I’m most nervous about posting my opinions on, but it’ll be interesting to see if anyone agrees with me. I know Jungkook is most people’s number 1 for this era and that Taehyung, Jin, or Hobi fall underneath him; that’s totally fine. Jungkook killed it, and I’m not trying to convince you that my thoughts are the only correct ones in any way. If I’m being critical and not subjective, Jungkook absolutely owns this era. My ranking is as opinionated as it gets.

Jimin: So, I had a hard time deciding who to stick in this position since all the rap verses were fire, and Jin also sounded amazing, but I think it’s the fact that Jimin’s vocal sticks out throughout the entire song that made me choose him. This is gonna sound like a joke again, but the “hey na na na” part is, like, a key vocal for ON, and Jimin’s vocal color makes it into a memorable piece of the song. I don’t know if that’s weird, but Jimin felt very present in ON.

Jungkook: I’m sorry, okay? In a lot of ways, the bridge of ON makes this Jungkook’s era. It was an extremely difficult vocal to pull off, and the song basically stops to give Jungkook the spotlight in a way BTS music doesn’t ever really do. I get that the bridge is, in many ways, the center of the song. I was so close to giving the era to Jungkook, I swear, because he sounded gorgeous. Especially the rasp on his voice when he belts. The falsetto note at the top is beautiful, but when Jungkook comes back down in his chest voice and jumps back up to a belt before his solo ends? I mean, he’s an absolute icon.

Taehyung: The reason I have Taehyung down as owning this era is because his vocal sticks out more during the rest of ON. This period of BTS music, up to their 2020 releases, has been doing things for Taehyung’s voice. He sounds different from how he used to, and the tone he’s creating from the songs that BTS has been making recently is stunning. I thought it fit ON really well, and Taehyung’s voice popped out every time he sang. I adore Jungkook, and objectively, he killed this era with his vocals; it’s just that his voice popped in the bridge, and I decided to consider the entire song because the chorus and pre-chorus are my favorite parts of ON. I’m going to say a similar thing about Black Swan, but in a song where the chorus sounds largely the same, regardless of who’s singing, the fact that Taehyung’s tone stuck out despite that was big deciding factor, for me.

Hold on. I know this is a set of unpopular opinions, but remember how I said I was considering the vocal first? To me, these vocals sounded the most unique in Black Swan. Again, if this were about the MV, Jimin would annihilate everybody; if it were about the choreo, nobody could touch Jimin. It’s just not what I was considering when making these rankings. I did consider the performance for Black Swan, but Jimin didn’t have as many central parts in the stage choreo as he did in the MV; plus I thought Jungkook and Taehyung both killed the choreo, as well, so I that’s how I landed on these rankings.

J-Hope: I really love Hobi’s rap verse in Black Swan. His vocal tone is gorgeous, and it sounds really unique in this song. The melodies for his verse are really nice on top of the mix, so I think Hobi probably had the most unique-sounding vocal in this song; it made his verse stand out since the rest of Black Swan is quite dark in tone while Hobi’s verse brought a bit of pop to it.

Yoongi: That being said, Yoongi’s verses in this song slapped. Yoongi can have this deep, almost lazy-sounding vocal tone--as I’ve said already--with really relaxed pronunciation, and for a song like Black Swan, it matched it perfectly. My attention is always grabbed by Yoongi in this song because it fits the concept so well. Also, he picks up right after Hobi’s verse, which had a bit of a brighter vibe, and the way Yoongi pulled it into the darker pre-chorus was amazing.

Taehyung: Alright, so the vocals are my favorite part of Black Swan, but there’s so much processing on the vocalists that Taehyung’s vocal tone is the only one that sticks out to me, and that’s why he owns this era, in my opinion. Taehyung, even, almost sounds the same as the rest of the vocal line, but his vocal color is distinct enough that he sounds different where the rest of the vocalists sound pretty similar. Also, like Yoongi, Taehyung’s deep vocal tone complimented the song really, really well. Black Swan is another example of how the BTS music from 2020 allowed Taehyung to showcase a slightly different vocal color, so I had to give the era to him.

I think we’re in slightly less controversial territory now, so here we go. If you’re being objective, I imagine anyone would say Jungkook topped his era. After, that I don’t know who would be in the top 3 objectively, but I’d guess it’d probably be Jimin and Jin since they featured a lot in this song.

Taehyung: I’m not gonna lie: this is another song that’s pretty repetitive, and a song where the chorus sounds the same, regardless of who’s singing. It’s not a bad thing because all the vocalists have beautiful voices, but since Taehyung didn’t sing “stay gold” once in this song, he stuck out by avoiding the repetitive hook of Stay Gold. I mean, his voice works extremely well in songs like this anyway, but his lovely vocal tone was especially beautiful on the pre-chorus. I think the way he decided to deliver it was really impactful, and it’s probably my favorite part of Stay Gold.

Yoongi: I just love Yoongi in Stay Gold. Taehyung and Yoongi are a hella theme for me in this post, but what can you do? Jungkook technically starts this song by singing the intro, but Yoongi’s got the first verse, and the way he adds just a bit of animation into his otherwise relaxed voice is so nice to listen to. It’s a short part, but it still stands out.

Jungkook: This is another one of those songs that’s tailored to Jungkook’s vocal. Again, the chorus is pretty similar across the vocalists, but Jungkook’s adlibs are so pretty in this song. Jungkook usually does most of the adlibs for songs like these with Jimin backing him up, but Stay Gold had a handful of standout adlibs from Jungkook that added so much magic to the tone of the song. Plus, even though the chorus is what it is, Jungkook stands out elsewhere in the song, and his vocal color is perfectly showcased in those areas. The Stay Gold era goes to Jungkook.

I almost want to save this song for last because it’s so iconic already. Listen, it’s a basic pop song, but the way BTS does it makes it not sound basic. I don’t think it’s one of BTS’s all-time best songs, but I do think it’s been their most successful so far since it’s a basic pop song that can get popular easily, and I think it’s their most repeatable song. I could--and have--listened to this for an hour straight without getting tired of it. It’s because BTS did it, honestly. Anyway, objectively, I still think Taehyung would top this era, but I know a lot of people would say Jungkook should, which is fine; I can tell that, when they recorded this song, they wanted Jungkook to be the vocal center. Also, a lot people love Jin in this era, and they should. He’s a king, and he killed it. Adding onto that, this was a vocal track so Hobi and Yoongi didn’t get a lot of parts, but they killed what they had; I just wanted to say that.

Jimin: I had a hard time picking the third member, y’all. I was bouncing between Jimin, Jungkook, and Jin, and honestly, I think they all did equally well in this song. What made me pick Jimin is that his vocal tone in this song is so different from how he normally sounds--especially when he sings this live. I don’t know if it’s because he stays pretty low in his vocal range for Dynamite or because of the type of song it is, but Jimin’s voice sounded so full in this song. I mean, yeah, he has moments where his sweet vocal tone comes out, too, but he mostly showcases a deeper vocal tone. I love it a lot because it isn’t usual for Jimin, so I think this is a good era for him.

Namjoon: I don’t know if this is an unpopular opinion or what, but Namjoon kind of feels like the face of this song in a lot of ways. He did say he had a lot to do with the vocal in this song because he’s “in charge of English,” so maybe that’s it, but his part in the pre-chorus was a hella bop. He did it so damn well. Yoongi did, too, mind you; I just think Namjoon brought a little bit of flavor into it, you know? He had all the jams in this song, for real. I remember wanting to highlight Namjoon’s role in Dynamite when I was thinking about making this post, and now I’ve done it, so I’m satisfied.

Taehyung: Y’all. I don’t know if there’s any Taehyung era on this list that Taehyung embodies quite like he embodies the Dynamite era. This is, like, the only moment I’m going to talk about visual concepts in this post because damn. Whoever decided to put Taehyung in that green suit and give that shade of blonde hair was a genius. He was looking some type of way in this era. But that’s not the point of this post. Taehyung’s vocal tone was astoundingly well suited to this song. He sounded the most distinct from the other vocalists than I’ve heard him sound in a long time. On top of that, he got the last chorus of Dynamite, which is the money piece of the song, in my opinion. They really said, “Let’s do a key change in this already high-pitched song that’ll jump up to a C#5 right at the end and give that part to BTS’s only baritone.” I know Jin hit the same note, and he did it beautifully, as well, but a C#5 is more comfortable for Jin to hit than it is for Taehyung because of Jin’s vocal type. The fact that Taehyung nails that note in studio and live is insane to me. To go from one line in their debut song to this? Holy shit, you know? Anyway, we’ve been here forever. Taehyung owns this era because he’s a mad impressive vocalist, and he made Dynamite his bitch.

Are you still with me? I’ve seen a lot of people say this was either Taehyung or Jin’s era, but I think I’ve also seen people show love to Hobi. Honestly, this is such a lovely song that I would agree with anyone’s opinions on who owned this era. It really comes down to who’s vocals hit you in the feels in that special way, and I can understand why any of the members would do that for someone in Life Goes On.

Jin: So, it’s kind of hard to hear in the studio version because the chorus is just everyone’s vocals layered on top of one another with shifting main vocals--which is fine because it’s supposed to feel like BTS, as a whole, is singing this song to ARMY--but Jin’s falsetto is heavenly in this song. He sings lower in his register, too, but I’m really drawn to how light and pretty his harmonies were. You can really hear it when he sings live, but regardless, Jin was awesome in Life Goes On. Even his lower tone brought a lot of character to the song.

Yoongi: Yoongi hits my heart in this song, man. I know he’s kind of rapping, but it comes off as singing, and it’s so beautiful. I could fall asleep to Yoongi’s voice in Life Goes On. It reminds me a lot of Namjoon’s part in Spring Day; we get a unique, melodic vocal tone within Life Goes On that we don’t normally hear in BTS’s music because Yoongi doesn’t usually sound like this. It’s so nice to have Yoongi on a part like this. I support soft Yoongi on future BTS singles. 100%.

Taehyung: Everyone sounds beautiful in Life Goes On, okay? Let me preface with that. However, Taehyung’s vocals really do support the tone of this song. It’s one of those tracks that’s supposed to sound peaceful and emotional, and it seems like Taehyung always ends up being the go-to vocalist for supporting that kind of music. I love everyone’s part in this song; Jin is very ethereal; Jimin is light and sharp; Jungkook sounds clear and smooth; Yoongi’s relaxing vocals are gorgeous; Namjoon brought in a lot of lovely bass; and Hobi kills the delivery of his melodies. There’s just something about the soul that comes with Taehyung’s voice in Life Goes On that gets me. The fact that he was the lead vocal at the very end, too, with the “I remember” lyric was such a good choice because the flip between his breathy, low vocal and his stunning falsetto runs closed the song out perfectly. It’s kind of like this was a fun song that everyone contributed to, and then Taehyung came in and added emotion on top of the warmth you get from everybody else. In my opinion, Taehyung owned this era because he felt like a special highlight within Life Goes On.

Why do BTS’s Japanese songs always hit so hard? I think the only difference between my ranking and the majority ranking is that Jungkook would probably be in it. I understand because I, too, thought Jungkook would be in this. However, upon further inspection, Jungkook isn’t actually in this song all that much. I mean, neither is Taehyung, to be fair, but Jin, Jimin, and Taehyung dominated the last--almost--minute and a half of the song, so. Here we are.

Taehyung: When I first listened to this, I thought, “Wow Taehyung doesn’t actually have a whole lot going on in this song.” However, I think his vocals do sort of anchor Film out in a way. It’s not like he had any sort of crazy vocalization going on, but Jin and Jimin were singing in a really raw way; it was a brilliant touch to convey the tone of the song, but it was desperation, not sadness. Taehyung’s vocal is where the complete story behind the song becomes clear because he adds the missing emotion. I don’t think Film out would’ve been as impactful had Taehyung not been given the parts he was given.

Jin: I mean, Jin killed it. The MV is definitely a Jin MV, but even the vocal features him really heavily. And I loved it. Jin always shines in their Japanese singles, and I think that’s because they’re always created to be emotional. Jin absolutely pulled that off in Film out. He played along the line of calm and tension beautifully, so his vocals definitely add much of the character to the song that we got in the final product.

Jimin: Jimin’s vocals were stunning, let me tell you. He sounded gorgeous. The high notes he was hitting, the tone he chose, the emotion he conveyed; Jimin owns his era, no questions asked. The harmonies he had with Taehyung and Jin in the last two lines? Shut up. Jimin was incredible in this song. It’s not very often that Jimin’s vocals stand out like this, so I’m glad he got the opportunity to be the vocal center, even though it was only for the last half of the song. It was so impactful to listen to him, so I knew this era was going to Jimin the second I listened to Film out.

Was I hella biased about this one? Yeah. Do I know who objectively owned this era? Yeah, it was supposed to be Jungkook. He’s the center of this song, obviously. I’d say the objective view of this era would be what I have, just ordered different. Taekook would probably switch positions for most people. That being said, this song is hard, y’all. Hobi said the recording process was easier than with Dynamite, but if that’s true, then the vocalists really upped their game because there’s C5s all over this track. It’s also repetitive, though, so that’s why it ended up being about who sounded the best, to me, up in that really high range. First, shoutout to Jimin because his vocal sounded really pretty on the pre-chorus, and his part in the chorus was awesome. Also, as an aside, the flirtiness in this song and in the MV had me on the floor, for real. I’ve not recovered.

Jungkook: As I said, I’m aware that this is a Jungkook song. When appealing to the Western market--as they are with an English song like Butter--BTS usually push Jungkook as the center more than they do in their Korean-language songs. Jungkook is my number three because there was really no one else it could’ve been. Which is both about Jungkook’s presence in the song and about how incredible he sounded. Butter, unlike Dynamite, really let Jungkook’s vocal tone pop. Not that Jungkook sounded bad in Dynamite--not at all--but Butter let Jungkook really shine. He got to put a little grit in his vocal, he got to belt; I mean, he sounded bomb.

Jin: Jin featuring more in Butter than in Dynamite has me living, you don’t understand. Y’all, Jin sounded so good in Butter. I could talk about every single line he had in Butter and tell you why he sounded stunning on every one of them. Like, the pre-chorus? Jin’s falsetto was beautiful. The middle line in the chorus when he sings “talk is cheap”? It’s iconic. The way he sings his part in the second verse? I mean, please. I know this is a lot about Jin being my number two because of his vocal, but isn’t that what this post is about? He was a king, you guys.

Taehyung: I don’t think it’s that much of a biased stretch to say that Taehyung owned this era. I mean, we can talk about the center or the amount of airtime or whatever you want, but Taehyung stands out the most, vocally, in Butter, and them’s the facts. No, I do not accept criticism. Jin is a close second, but man, Taehyung sounded so special, to me. I usually don’t catch incredible vocal takes on my first listen of a song because I’m trying to process the newness of it, but Taehyung’s vocal tone took my attention right away while I was watching the MV premiere. I’m not gonna talk about him being a baritone and hitting C5s again because it’s gonna sound like nagging, at this point, but when he goes up that high, he sounds stunning. Stunning. Not to mention, the dance-pop vibe to this song suits his vocal tone so well. Taehyung got to play with his vocal so much in Butter, it seems, that he produced an amazing vocal tone just for this song--and it’s amazing. Taehyung owns the era because--well, because his voice has, once again, devastated me.

I gotta be honest with this one and say that, for the first time, I didn’t walk away from a BTS era going “that member definitely owned this era for me.” After going through the song for the second time after its release, I got a good lock on who I think is the number one, but that still left the last two slots. Number three was the one I really had trouble with, though, because Yoongi did really well with his part--especially since he doesn’t usually sing--and Jungkook’s adlibs were amazing. The problem was that all the members felt equal in this era, and that doesn’t usually happen. So, I really had to analyze what it meant for someone to own an era, and I ended up with these three members because they had the most memorable vocals. Other people would probably include Jungkook instead of Jimin or Taehyung and maybe even Yoongi--which I get because I almost did the same--but this is what I thought was true for me.

Jimin: Jimin almost got beat out by Yoongi, but that was only for a second because I really listened to all the adlibs and embellishments Jimin was doing with his vocal in Permission to Dance, and it made me think he was the obvious choice for my number three. My first listen of this song made me think Jimin was the one that stuck out the most, and obviously, that view changed, but I still think Jimin was a foundational piece of Permission to Dance. His vocal did blend with the mix really well, but his vocal tone actually shone a lot during his parts despite that.

Taehyung: He just can’t help it, you know? If we’re talking about standout vocals, Taehyung’s voice is gonna clinch it nine times out of ten. Permission to Dance is bright and fun, and I thought Taehyung’s vocal brought a lot of warmth to it that isn’t there otherwise. His vocal filled out the song every time he sang--during his verse, the choruses, and the bridge. Rather than being a foundation through his full vocals, though, his vocal actually made him stand out more as a special piece. Also--and I don’t know if this makes sense--but Taehyung’s voice made the song seem happier, in a sense? I guess that would come down to the warmth I was talking about. Anyway, the bottom line is that Taehyung, not only filled out Permission to Dance, but lifted it up and made it even brighter.

Jin: No holds barred, Jin killed this era. Jin also made Permission to Dance sound fuller, but Jin’s vocal had the added quality of making the choruses sound more impactful. Besides that, though, this song was just made for Jin. That’s really what it is. Jin’s vocal tone sounds absolutely gorgeous in Permission to Dance. I don’t know if it’s because of the key or the genre or the melody or what, but Jin sounded so powerful and resonant, and it was obvious to me that he stuck out the most. I don’t know how many others would agree, but I really think Jin shone the brightest in the Permission to Dance era, which is why I had to give to him. 

Thus ends this post that took me two days to complete. I know Taehyung made it into nearly every top 3, but again, it’s just my honest opinion. I always gravitate to Taehyung’s vocal more than anything else because I find his vocal color to be so unique and special. However, BTS is special because of all seven members. I may not have put your favorite member on my list for a specific era or gave them a lower ranking than you thought they should get, but just know that I wouldn’t love BTS’s music as much as I do if any of the members were excluded. All of them kill it in different ways, and all of them have eras where they are undoubtedly the face of the song. And this post is only about the singles, mind you. We haven’t even talked about some of the best BTS songs of all time.

So, I hope you don’t find my opinions annoying, and I hope you share your opinions in the replies, whether it be because you think differently or because you agree with my unpopular choices. Even though I talked about why I think a certain member owns a certain era, I’m just explaining my thought process; I don’t want to change anyone’s mind on who they love in each era because that’s the beauty of ARMY and BTS. There’s so much to love, so I hope to see some love for all the members in response to this post. It was fun; thanks for reading.

#bts #kim taehyung #park jimin #jeon jungkook #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok

[revisionaryhistory]

Three Days ~ 71

~*~Emma~*~

For the rest of the trip, we relaxed listening to music. Before Sebastian had asked, I’d not thought too much about what I was going to do. Further limiting my time was a given, but I hadn’t thought about what that would look like. Talking about not waking up at “home” with my mom, dad, twin sister, and niece should have bothered me more than it did. That it didn’t, tells me it’s the right decision. One of the side effects of putting up with shit too long is once you decide to stop it’s not that big of a deal. Something inside has been moving in that direction for some time. What Sebastian had said about not sacrificing myself was on target. That I would do what it takes to take care of my sister isn’t in question. It’s been proven.

I texted Angie from the Uber to Sebastian's apartment. We were going to start up at Chelsea and Union Square with Aritzia, Anthropologie, and Free People. Those were sure thing stores, but not always original. We'd weave our way through Chelsea and into Soho. That shop Seb and I found would be last. We'd stop for lunch when we got hungry.

Angie hopped on the subway and headed to Union Square. It would take her thirty minutes and me fifteen from Sebastian’s place. Plenty of time to relax and watch Sebastian gather what he needed to work on. I saw a script, notebook, and a couple of real books. I think I'd find it fascinating to watch his process, but more importantly this time I wanted him to know I had friends and could amuse myself. I didn't care that he needed work time and I wasn’t going to need something from him for ignoring me. Doing things independent of your partner was important.

I grabbed a bottle of water for my journey and made my way to where Sebastian sat. He moved the items in his lap, making room for me to sit down. He supported my back and rubbed along my leg. "What are you shopping for?"

"Whatever I find." I smiled sneakily, "Especially if find something for Paris, our first date, and our live music fun tonight."

Sebastian’s hand made it to my ass, "When I think of live music I picture short, revealing, sexy."

"I love how you think." I ran my fingers through his hair. "Can I bother you for five minutes?"

"Sure" His eyes held questions.

I pulled his head closer, pressing my lips to his until he caught on and joined in the fun.

Our little mini make out session was going to make me late. Assuming Angie left as soon as we texted, walked straight onto a train, and there were no delays. None of these were likely. She'd forgive my lateness anyway. I looped my crossbody bag over my head, "I'll text if it's anything other than seven."

"Ok." He ran toward the kitchen. "Hang on." I heard a drawer slam before he reversed direction and came back. Sebastian held up a key, the slightest smile appearing on his face, "In case I'm in the shower or something when you come back. You remember the code?"

"Yes." I'd punched it in when we got here less than half an hour ago. He was nervous. I admit I had to focus to keep my hand steady as I took his offering. "I love you."

Sebastian opened the door and gave me a quick kiss as I walked out. "Love you, too."

I was a couple of steps away when I heard my name.

"Emma, put it on your key ring so you don't lose it."

The door closed before I could reply. I guess that eliminates any question if the key was a temporary just in case he was in the shower today sort of thing. What made me smile the most was the lack of conversation. If he'd overthought the decision, he didn't feel the need to talk it through. No discussion about what it meant or didn't mean. He may have been nervous, but he wasn't uncomfortable. I seriously doubt he's in the habit of giving out keys to his place, so nervous but not uncomfortable was good.

Angie was leaning against the building when I walked up. We hugged like we hadn't seen each other in months. "Sorry, I’m late."

"Were you having sex? I'll forgive you if you were having sex."

I grimaced with a shake of my head, "Making out."

My best friend huffed out a breath, "Close enough." She held the door open for me, "I got here like two minutes ago."

Aritzia, Anthropologie, and Free People were right in a line. We'd hit them in my favorite order. Aritizia was more comfort clothes for me. Their clothes were more staples than fun. But today I found a gorgeous Sicily sweater and cardigan in a soft heathered cashmere. A pair of tie front pants in purple plaid would look awesome for wandering museums. Anthropologie gifted me with a sequined tunic dress for a night out. A simple black midi dress, a grey-blue fringed and a textured cardi, and a long black wrap jacket. Free People had a colorful mini dress, a definite statement Hyacinth dress, and a fun floral dress. Assorted other things went into my bags too. I went a little crazy, but in my defense, I hadn’t been shopping in a long time and my best friend was egging me on. Plus, there was someone to appreciate what I wore. I had all sorts of cute clothes, but dressing for a boyfriend was different. Especially one who liked to look. I knew what he liked and indulged.

Conversation while we shopped was mostly about the shopping. It's good to have a friend who'll not only tell you something makes your ass look fat but also say, "You look amazing but where the fuck are you gonna wear that more than once?"  Part of the fun was trying on horrifying things. Those things you don't understand how they were ever made. We'd mix those in with good stuff and laugh until we cried. We had a long-standing tradition that whoever found the most "exquisite" outfit was treated to lunch. We were pretty even and had pictures for documentation. Today I would be buying lunch.

"We’ve got a table at two. Alissa's going to meet us."

"That'll be fun. Are she and Will coming tonight?"

"I don't think so. They've got a family thing."

I nodded and we headed toward Chelsea, stopping at the Guitar Store for strings and a capo. We had plenty of time so we stopped anywhere else that caught our eyes. Walking was more private and so was our conversation.

"Anything I should know about before I see you tonight with your boyfriend?"

I sighed in relief. Finally. I bumped her hip with mine, "I love him."

Angie put her arm around me, "This is not news, Emma."

We shared a laugh. "I wasn't sure until I was in the cab leaving his place. Georgia solidified it. Sebastian was so good talking me through all their shit. He and Eli have more in common now. They both hate my parents."

"Eli doesn't hate your parents."

I pulled away, looking at her with raised eyebrows and clear disbelief written on my face. "Try again."

Angie spoke through our laughter, "Eli tries not to, but they make it truly hard. I think he'd be more forgiving if you didn't have us and your Seattle family. Eli loves you like a little sister, best friend, and some weird second wife he's never fucked. He’s protective. He and Sebastian are going to have to figure out how to share."

"They'll arm wrestle or something. Then maybe you'll become Sebastian’s little sister, friend, and second girlfriend. Ooo, we could use you to confuse the fans. If we're out and get seen we can trade off and kiss each other’s dates. Set up a different narrative."

"Good idea.

“It'll be more fun for you. I have kissed Eli, but you don't know about Seb."

"I doubt anything will become so severe that making out with Sebastian is the answer." She smiled, "Not that I would mind."

"You would not mind. He's one hell of a good kisser."

She backtracked, "Who said it first? How did it happen."

"He surprised me showing up early from Canada, watched me cleaning up my classroom for a minute, then told me the song I was dancing along to was about sex. I turned around and he had on those ears. He looked so adorable. He looked at me with his mouth and eyes open wide and said, “Fuck, I love you."

Angie slapped her hand on her chest, "He didn't know until right them." She gasped, "He came in wearing those ears to be cute and winds up telling you he loves you. He is adorable.” She glared at me, "And you said it back."

I nodded, “In Romania."

"What's up with learning Romanian?"

I trusted her with everything. "It's his name. He prefers it in Romanian. I've been learning just enough to add it to his name. It has a very nice effect on him.” I remembered the wall and shook myself out of the memory. “Plus it makes him happy.”

"And you’re happy?"

I nodded, "Incredibly. All the reasons we talked about are still going on. He adores me and it's clear by how he treats me. And I love taking care of him." I knew she’d understand what I meant.

"There is nothing better in the world. I'm so happy you have someone. It had been so long I thought you were intentionally keeping everyone away."

“Just waiting for the right one."  I pulled out my key chain. "I do have a new key."

Angie snatched it, "He keyed you!"

"Looks like it."

"Do you worry this is going fast? I mean it is going fast."

"Yes. It is going fast. There is a risk that maybe this time next year we could be married, have three kids, and signing our divorce papers." I barely made it through without laughing.

Angie snorted, "Sign a prenup so you don’t have to pay alimony when his mid-life crisis tanks his career."

"I talked to Trevor about Sebastian. He knows about my parents, Amy, rehab, and how shitty they can be to me, but he doesn't how about what happened." I stopped walking and looked at her. "I'm starting to feel ashamed for not telling him. That's never happened before." Relationship or friendship. It had never happened. I looked at the most recent member of my secret club. "I don't want to."

She understood, "Why?"

"I don't want him to change the way he looks at me."

Angie smiled, "He won't. You don’t know that yet. It's only been a month. When you know, you'll tell him, and he will look at you just the same or better than he does now. It'll be fine."

"How do you know?" It wasn’t a smart assed clap back. I sincerely wanted to know her reasoning.

"Because he feels different to you and about you. You’re both sharing things neither of you share. That’s the glue for your relationship. You’re adding a little more glue, letting it set up, then adding more. It's getting stronger and eventually, you'll both tell the big secrets and it will be like a layer of epoxy around you that will make you near impossible to break.”

"I like that."

"I speak the truth."

We beat Alissa to the restaurant and ordered a pitcher of margaritas. I was still rearranging and shoving bags into bags under the table when she got there. Angie jumped up and they hugged. I took a step closer, but instead of hugging me, Alissa looked at me warily. “Is it ok for me to be here? Angie said it would be.”

I looked at Angie then back to Alissa, “Why wouldn’t it be?” Oh, what the fuck was going on? I just wanted a nice drunken late lunch with friends after a successful shopping expedition then go home and make out some more with my hot boyfriend.

Alissa grimaced, “I’m sorry for saying all that about Sebastian.”

“Oh!” I laughed and put my hand on my chest. Relieved. I pulled her into a hug, “I’m not upset. Between you and Kirk and the shit Eli told him, we had a somewhat uncomfortable, but really good conversation.”

“Good.” We sat down and Alissa kept talking. “I didn’t mean to be negative. It was just strange. How he was acting and the things you were saying. In a good way. It didn’t come out that way.”

Why is she still . . . oh. “Sebastian said something.”

She cringed, “More of a small group WhatsApp with me and Kirk.”

I laughed again. “Sounds fun.” I sort of wish he hadn’t done that, but I understand why he did. In the end, it was a good thing, but they couldn’t know if I would be scared off by their words.

Angie jumped in, “There’s no way Emma didn’t talk that through.”

Alissa didn’t know me well enough yet to know I wouldn’t let the conversation fester. “Especially with us being a thousand miles apart for the next two weeks. Why is that distance makes time seem longer?”

“I don’t know, but it does. Seb was right to be angry. We could have screwed things up. Neither of us realized how important you were to him. He was worried. That’s more like Seb. Kinda. He’s confusing.”

I think I know what she’s going for. It’s very like him to be worried, but not so much calling out a friend about a girlfriend. From what we’ve talked about and what I learned on that post he’s not had a history of defending girlfriends. I could be wrong, but I don’t think so. I wasn’t willing to go into that here. I changed the subject. “And then he goes and tells Will to post a picture of us.”

Alissa nodded, “How’d he react to the comment saying he was going to propose?”

Angie started laughing, “She’d say no.”

“I told him not to. He’d need a good reason. Like he’s actually not a citizen and needs a marriage green card. Or maybe health insurance. I have good health insurance.”

That was the end of that and we went on to other topics. Alissa and Will were having dinner with family but would come by Bowery Ballroom if they were done early. Keaton and Eli’s bands were friends and often teamed up to fill a bigger hall and split the money. They usually made more that way than in one of the smaller halls. Both did a full set and even though Keaton was the bigger name they would trade off who opened. Tonight was Eli’s turn.

We split up outside the restaurant. Alissa going back home and Angie and I heading to the boutique by Sebastian’s.  It wasn’t a horrible walk, but we had a lot of bags. In the cab, Angie gave me a look. One I could read perfectly. She wanted to know what I’d avoided at lunch. I like Alissa and I’d say we’re friends. She’s also married to one of Sebastian’s best friends. I didn’t know what the line was. Not for Sebastian. He’d tell me to do what I wanted. The line was mine. Will and Alissa were still enough strangers to me that I wasn’t comfortable with too much information flow between all of us. I wouldn’t think anything of it with Angie and Eli and I was confident that given some more time it would be the same with Will and Alissa. Also, I didn’t know how intimate of conversations Sebastian had with his friends. I’d need to be around more to know.  

I’d told Angie about our conversation after the party. In general. With what Alissa had said I went into a little more detail, filled in holes, and answered questions. I watched her thinking. I knew what was coming and was glad for it. “Are you worried? I’d be worried. Maybe not worried. Concerned. It’s like being a rebound. You’re the first after something else, only the something else is personal growth. You don’t know if he’s going to go back. You know what I mean?”

I did. “If he wasn’t so forthcoming with talking about it, I would be concerned. He’s laid it all out there. What he’s done, not done, feels bad about. He doesn’t act like that with me. If he starts too, I’ll know what's going on.” I told her about the conversation on the deck where he did want to shut down and how we got through it. “Struggling with change doesn’t bother me. All the girlfriend stuff.” I shook my head and shrugged. “We’re going to have to figure out what both of us are good with. I think I’m going to be able to not get sucked into comments or let them get to me, but I don’t know for sure. I know private is ok, but I’m not ok with being denied. I’d feel like a dirty little secret. I could change my mind. Could be next week. No idea.”

Angie took my hand, “I still get hate from Eli’s fans. We had to figure out how to deal. You guys will too. The rest, I think you’re right. If he’d gotten pissy and refused to talk about what Alissa and Kirk had said it would be a problem. Everybody gets a chance to do things differently. I don’t for one second think you’re going in blind or overlooking things because you want a boyfriend. You’d walk away if he wasn’t treating you right.” She got the look she gets when she’s about to tell me something I don’t like. I know that look, because I have the same one. “I’m one hundred percent not saying now. Way too soon. You’re already started to feel ashamed and that’s not going to get better. Might not get worse, but it’s not going to get better. You are the bravest person I know. Don’t let being afraid of your past ruin your future.”

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan fanfiction #fanfiction #sebastian stan X ofc #marvel actor fanfiction

[pahsmina]

Wardrobe post 2021 part 1 - dresses (image and text heavy)

For years I have wanted to tag along the trend in the EGL community to make a wardrobe post. But I just never took the time and effort to go through with it. Perhaps it’s because I’m so used to writing about merchandise that I sometimes feel a little lost what to write when it comes to clothes? 

So let’s go 2021, let’s do this! 

In this post I will focus on dresses, so get ready for a lot of pictures, along with my endless ramblings. 🙏

Rabbit Circus by Zhijinyuan - Release unknown

Now this dress is a walking mystery for me, which most offbrand dresses often becomes for me. I first saw this on google image search while checking out different circus cords, and I fell in love with it instantly. 

However every site I managed to find it on seemed to be a bit shady, so I was a little bit cautious if I would end up with something similar to the stock photos of it, or a nightmare of cheap fabric. 

At the end I stumbled across it on a Japanese lolita store called Alice Doll, which seemed to be a reseller of some taobao dresses. The price was around 4000 yen, which made me think “at least it’s not a too good to be true deal” and placed an order. 

And I’m so glad I ended up ordering it! 

Yes the skirt part of the dress does feel a bit cheaper in the fabric than my other brand ones, but there is such a lovely attention to details in it! Plus I’m a big fan of the jacquard texture in the fabric. 

Jewelry Print Chiffon JSK by Alice and the Pirates - 2007

Being an adult means I can purchase old dream dresses I used to have as a teenager. And this is one of them!

Funny story, I used to own this print in another model and colour. But sold it because I mostly bought it as a compromise for not finding this specific model. 

So here I am, years later and owning that exact dream. It fits wonderfully, and the asymmetrical cut is even more beautiful in person. 

Sadly mine is missing the pearl chain in the front, so I replaced it with a navy coloured bow instead. 

Twinkle School Tartan JSK by Angelic Pretty - 2007

This feels like a piece of Swedish lolita history. 

Over the years I have seen several people in the community all over Sweden own this dress, and also bought it secondhand from a Swedish lolita. 

I wonder if this is the same dress that all those people have owned before, or if there are more Twinkle School Tartan jsks floating around here? 

Titel unknown by Mary Lolita -  Release unknown

I’m a really big fan of balloons, especially hot air ones. It’s just something about them that always makes me smile. 

So when I found this dress I immediately had to get it, despite not knowing too much about the brand. 

It’s easily one of my most comfortable dresses, and works perfect for more casual, yet colourful outfits. 

Miracle Rabbit by 由纪的八音盒 - 2020

My absolute favorite theme for lolita dresses are circus and rabbit prints, so I was overjoyed when I found out the existance about this dress. 

And not only that, I was quite lucky since it was sold out in almost every model, except my most desired cut, colour and size. A match made in heaven 🐰

Holy Night Story Switch JSK by Angelic Pretty - 2010

Another old dream dress of mine!

I bought this after my last breakup to cheer myself up a lil bit, but despite being purchased during such a sad time I never feel sadness whenever I look at it. 

Except for circus themes, I’m a huge sucker for anything reminding me of marching band outfits. And also rats, rats are very important too. (Yes they are probably mice but let a girl dream) 

My favorite detail on this one is that it’s missing one of the original buttons, and the owner before me replaced it with this crown button instead. I don’t know why, but I just find it super cute haha. 

Dot Jacquard Circus JSK by Innocent World - 2008

More circus dresses! 

I ended up loving this dress so much that I am actually on the hunt for the black one as well. 

Bertille OP by Mary Magdalena - 2009

Despite often dressing in OTT sweet lolita prints, this dress often makes me feel a little bit too overdressed sometimes? It’s just so elegant that I feel a little bit out of place sometimes haha. 

But I don’t have the heart in me to sell it, because when I do end up wearing it I just love the silhouette way too much to even consider parting with it. 

(I do have the bow for the front, I just forgot to dig it up from my accessory boxes) 

Dressing Up Bunny-Chan Corduroy JSK by Angelic Pretty - 2006

Time really has taken it’s toll on this dress. 

I love it to death, but it makes me a little sad to see how much the blue has faded to more of a grey colour. The zipper is also broken and have to be replaced.

Sadly it’s not a hyped enough old school dress to ever see a re-release. So I will continue to care for it till the day it finally gives up. 

...and then buy a new one , because boy oh boy, I love it so much. 

Sugary Carnival OP by Angelic Pretty - 2009 or 2011

I was SUPER lucky when I purchased this dress last year, even if it arrived to me in a condition that is unacceptable in my eyes. 

Always imagined myself buying the JSK version of this colourway, but I ended up liking the OP more than I thought. 

The fabric is quite faded over the years, and I’m a little bit worried it might not match too well with the 2020 re-release of the headbow, but it’s a risk I’m willing to take. 

Tiara Rose Tiered JSK by Angelic Pretty - 2009

My very first Angelic Pretty dress, and it’s still with me. 

Originally purchased to wear to a wedding I was gonna attend, and kept ever since. 

Dreamy Dollhouse Switching JSK by Angelic Pretty - 2009

Another dress from my breakup phase. 

Purchased this while I was hospitalized as a “Bitch you’re gonna get though this”-gift to myself.

I was quite lucky with this find, since I managed to get the JSK and headbow in a set for 5000 yen. 

Frederick Party Picot Lace JSK by Innocent world - 2007

I used to own this skirt in pink many many years ago, but sold it when I was getting into figure collecting and desired money for that instead. Big regrets on my part, since I ever since then desperately wanted it back. 

Since then I have not managed to decide on which cut I desire for the pink one, but I was 100% about the blue one. And luckily that exact cut and colour is hanging safe and sound in my closet 💖

Milky-Chan the Fawn Ribbon JSK by Angelic Pretty - 2009

It’s kind of funny that for SC my plan was to get the JSK, but ended up with the OP instead. And it’s the complete opposite with my Milky-Chan. 

This is another dress that I might not use too much, but it’s mostly because I’m a big slob and terrified of spilling something on it. Plus it’s a nightmare to iron with the ribbons on the straps and the pearl details haha. 

Lyrical Party Going-out JSK by Angelic Pretty -  2011

My love for bunnies of course includes loving Lyrical Bunny. The design of this lil bun is just so cute and I can’t get enough of seeing it. I want to get more items such as accessories and novelties, but there’s always something that stops me from getting them. Like when they do pop up i’m out of cash for the moment, or sell out super fast. 

So I feel lucky to at least own the Lyrical Party JSK. At first I planned on getting this in lavender, but I’m quite happy I ended up with the pink one instead. 

Melty Chocolate High Waist JSK by Angelic Pretty - 2010

My pride and joy, my absolute dreamdress. 

I was on the hunt for this colourway for so long that it drove me crazy. It popped up secondhand on sites not quite perfect for my timezone, so it often sold out while I had been asleep. 

But a few days after Christmas in 2019 it finally showed up while I was still awake, and I purchased it with no hesitation. 

Sugary Carnival JSK by Angelic Pretty - 2021

Not yet in my wardrobe, but I want to mention it anyway. I can’t wait till October😭😭 

#EGL #Sweet Lolita #Innocent world #Angelic Pretty #Alice and the pirates #wardrobe post #Mary Magdalena #Taobao

[starrybouquet]

Rare Metals

I finally worked up the nerve to post a fic! It's fluff, enjoy! And let me know what you think :)

Read on AO3 (you’ll need to be logged in)

***

As usual, it was all Daniel's fault. After all, he was the one who'd glimpsed Furling text on the MALP footage of P6X-830. Which meant, of course, that SG-1 had been sent to said planet. Nevermind the fact that P6X-830 was a perpetually rainy planet.

Oh, yeah, and the rain was green. Something about copper in the atmosphere. Go figure.

The greenish drizzle predicted by the SGC's weather guys had turned into a torrential downpour about four hours after SG-1's arrival, prompting them to triple-time it back to the 'Gate. Of course, they crested the last hill only to find that the 'Gate was now on the other side of a large river.

And so now they were here, hiding in two tents on the high ground across from the Stargate and waiting for the rain to end.

Jack stared disconsolately at his soggy ration bar. Or tried to stare at it. With the clouds and the planet's sun already set, it was hard to see anything, and he wasn't going to waste his flashlight on inspecting his ration bar--it might convince him not to eat it.

"Sir?" That was Carter, sitting on the other side of the tent, trying to ask him something. He roused himself from his ration-induced stupor and looked at her.

"Yeah?"

"Did we pack an extra jacket? Mine's soaked through." Oh, yeah. He'd been in charge of that this time. He leaned forward, trying not to let his mud-specked pack touch his nice, dry clothes, and also trying not to think of the associations "Carter" and "soaked" formed in his head.

"Here ya go, Carter." Jack tossed the extra jacket where he thought her legs were, though it could have been her feet. It was hard to tell through a sleeping bag.

"Thanks, sir."

 ***

Clad in a Jack O'Neill-scented coat and burrowed down as far as humanly possible into her sleeping bag, Sam Carter tried to fall asleep.

She'd gone through the slightly awkward process of changing into blessedly dry clothes while pretending to ignore the fact that her CO-who-she cared-about-a-lot-more-than-she-was-supposed-to was doing the same a few feet away, in the same tent. But while the dry clothes and sleeping bag were nice, she was still freezing. And, more to the point, as soon as she laid down she'd found a nice, hard lump smack in the middle of her back.

Sam spent a few more minutes debating whether it was worth losing the modicum of warmth she'd trapped in the sleeping bag trying to move something that was most likely a tree root, and came to the conclusion that she was ninety nine-percent sure that the lump hadn't been there when she put down her sleeping bag, and would therefore be more willing to move than a tree root. She thought it was probably a rock, though she couldn't imagine how she hadn't noticed it before.

Thus decided, Sam sat up and fished around awkwardly beneath her sleeping bag, looking for the offending object. Finally, her hand came in contact with something hard. With a grunt of triumph, she slid it away from her sleeping bag to the middle of the tent. Intrigued by the odd texture--it was nothing like the rock she'd been expecting, it was...softer and spikier, somehow--she pulled out her flashlight.

"Sorry, sir," she whispered.

"S'okay," O'Neill muttered, having apparently been bothered enough by her tossing and turning to sit up himself.

She shined the beam on the rock--and promptly froze.

It wasn't a rock at all. It was squarish, dark blue in color, and appeared to be covered in velvet.

She was pretty sure it was a ring box.

And since she was absolutely sure she had never ever brought jewelry offworld, then that meant...

With trepidation, she looked slowly up from the ring box into a rather panicked set of brown eyes illuminated by the flashlight.

Yup. It was Colonel O'Neill's.

 ***

Shit.

Exactly how had the ring he had purchased half a year ago gotten itself stuck under Carter's sleeping bag? And, more importantly, what was he supposed to say?

Jack stared at Carter as she slowly looked from the box to him, her eyes wide and confused.

"I'm not going to give it to you," he blurted.

Wow. Of all the things to say, he'd picked that? Sometimes, Jack was surprised at his own stupidity.

Carter blinked once, and her confusion fled behind a completely neutral mask. "O-Of course not, sir. That would be inappropriate." Her eyes, however, looked suspiciously glassy.

"No, that's not what I meant! I mean, I didn't mean to bring it, but-Hell."

He looked down, frustrated at his inability to articulate, and scrubbed a hand over his face.

Just make an excuse and get out of this, O'Neill.

He returned his gaze to Sam's face, only to find her head bowed instead, inspecting the threads of her sleeping bag as intensely as if they were one of her naquadah generators.

And something in the tilt of her shoulders, the cant of her head, the stillness of her fingers against the bright light of the flashlight told Jack that she was hurt. She tried to conceal it, shove it down so that even she couldn't feel it, but it didn't work.

They had always been able to read each other.

And in that moment, suddenly, nothing else mattered. Not the regs, not the Goa'uld, not the pouring rain, not the hard ground. Jack knew they couldn't have the life he, at least, wanted, not until the war was over. But fate had given him a chance, and just this once, he'd take it. He could feel the panic melting away into resolve.

"Car-Sam," he said softly. He scooted toward the center of the tent and picked up the blue box.

She looked up then, and a bit of the confusion was back, clouding her eyes, along with something else. He thought, very quietly lest anyone hear him thinking too sappily, that it might've been hope. Cautiously, she moved herself toward him, sleeping bag and all.

Jack took a deep breath and looked her in the eye. He'd already messed this up with his perpetual foot-in-mouth syndrome once, and he'd be damned if he would let it happen this time.

"D'you remember when you went with SG-6 to that planet, the one with all the telescopes? A few months ago?"

Carter nodded, but didn't say anything. Apparently, being Carter and therefore fluent in Jack-speak, she'd figured out that he was trying to say something serious for a change and knew that talking would break his fragile concentration.

"Well, that week, while you were off playing with the other science geeks, Teal'c and I got to babysit Daniel. The planet he was negotiating with...PS7-whatever...did a lot of metalwork with their naquadah. Lots of fancy art shops and stuff. Anyway, one of the shops sold rings-" He couldn't hold her gaze, could feel the panic coming back with a vengeance. He fidgeted with the cuff of his BDU shirt. "Engagement rings, mostly."

Jack's hands felt like lead, but he forced himself to open the box, hand it to her.

"I got one. The ring--it's yours. I'm giving it to you." He looked down. "I love you," he said softly. "You deserve to know that. And maybe, you know, after the Goa'uld are gone, someday-"

He glanced up, but his eyes refused to focus on her face clearly enough for him to read her expression.

Sam's hand landed on his knee, and moved up, and suddenly his nose was in her hair and Jack could feel tears seeping through his shirt. Carefully, he wrapped his arms around her, and her hands gripped the back of his shirt, pulling him closer.

"Yes," she whispered.

"Huh?" Somehow, all these months and he'd never really thought about what she'd say if she ever saw the ring. Self-preservation, maybe.

She released him just enough so that they were nose to nose. Her eyes were so blue, even in the semi-darkness, wide and glassy with tears, and she was smiling that smile. The one that made his stomach flip.

"Jack, I love you. Yes."

He could feel himself smiling, a full-out grin, and he couldn't help it, didn't feel like he had any control over the happiness spreading over his features.  He pulled Sam tight against him again, buried his head in her shoulder, trying to convey everything he couldn't put into words into the squeeze of his arms around her.

"You know, you never actually let me ask the question..." he murmured into her shoulder after several minutes.

She didn't respond, but her arms slackened a bit and Jack pulled back, brown eyes still sparkling but face set in a very serious mien. Without breaking her gaze, he scuffled around the tent until he found the blue box and lifted the ring between them solemnly.

"Samantha Carter, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

Sam smiled again, teasing this time. "I already said yes."

He dropped the solemnity and smirked back. "I know you did, but I wanted to do it right. It's my only chance, after all."

The strange surface of the naquadah alloy glinted as Jack slid it onto her finger.

Sam glanced at him in surprise. "How did you know my ring size?”

“I remember a lot of stuff,” he mumbled embarrassedly.

Sam smiled that smile at him again, brighter than the sun. "I know I just said it, but I love you. And we'll figure this out."

"Right back atcha," Jack murmured.

And finally, he leaned in and kissed her.

#my fic #my stuff #sam x jack #sg1 #stargate sg1 #fanfic

[baekhvuns]

Bad Boy | Baekhyun IX

( series masterlist )

part nine.

word count : 1.6k

pairing : baekhyun x reader

theme ( s ) : romcom, angst.

“Eunhye hurry up!” I yelled as me and Jongdae got out of the airport, the sun pierced through the cloud.

“I am! Jongdae why did you leave me with my luggage! It’s so heavy! Plus I’m pregnant!” Eunhye playfully smacked Jongdae on his arm as he pretended to be seriously hurt.

“Yea yea it’s literally a purse— oh guys is that for us?” Jongdae suddenly pointed towards the black Lincoln car we saw. He continued, “Damnn, look how shiny it is!” Jongdae yelled running towards it.

As Jongdae ran his hands over the car me and Eunhye looked at each other, knowing who the car was from. She tapped on my shoulder lightly ushering me to move towards the car as the chauffeur and Jongdae take in our suitcases.

I looked out the window admiring Santorini, somehow thankful of Baekhyun for having his wedding here in this beautiful city so that I could visit it before I die.

The car was starting to slow down as it entered a private property, it drove through the heavily tree infested area. It was so secure and private that it seemed as if it was for a powerful man.

The chauffeur dropped us at entrance, Jongdae took our bags out as me and Eunhye examined the place. “Damn Baekhyun became even more rich than before! I wonder if that’s why that girl is marrying him or even better she must a model at his company!” Eunhye clasped her hands together as Jongdae walked in front of us.

“I heard she was introduced to him by his company’s previous conductor, maybe a daughter or something?” Jongdae just added even more confusion to us, we all shrugged and Jongdae rang the bell.

My heart was beating really fast as if it was about to pop out of my rib cafe, my hands were getting way to sweaty for my own good. A silhouette had appeared on the other side of the huge glass door, opening it reached an old man. Phew I thought it was him

“Hello young ladies and men! You guys must be masters friends, here for the wedding?” He spoke in Korean, wow, I was shocked at how Baekhyun must have gotten such employees.

“Ah yes we are his high school friends! I’m Kim Jongdae and this is my wife Kim Eunhye and this is our best friend Son Joohyun!” As Jongdae was introducing us the old man watched us with glee and when my name was mentioned he started at me for a bit too long and smirked approvingly.

“Please come in! I’ll show you to your rooms, we only have very selective people living in his personal house as all the others are provided with hotels! So please make yourself at home.” He released an overly dramatic speech, as we all awkwardly looked at each other and nodding as the man went on.

We followed the man upstairs as I admired the house, absolutely gorgeous, the architecture was amazing and the designing elements were such Baekhyun like. The neutral tones and its cozy ness resembled Baekhyun’s touch.

The man had made sure to give Eunhye and Jongdae a room together, their room was stunning which made me anticipate the room I’d be staying in. The man and I walked a bit further than the couples room and stood in front of an auburn coloured door, the man grinned and opened the door, “This will be your room, please enjoy your time here, if you need anything you can call me by the telephone,” he stopped the point at the phone next to the bed, “OR you can call the young master, his room is at right from your room.” The man smiled and left, leaving me alone here.

I rolled in my suitcase and eyed the room, the room had high glass ceilings with the perfect amount of sunlight coming in. The walls had a cement texture and the room had elements of royal blue, burgundy emerald, and whites. I sat down on the bed and caressed the soft blanket.

“Why did I even decide to come here, I’m only going to cause trouble to me and everyone else, maybe I shouldn’t have come-“ the door burst open with Eunhye standing with her arms crossed.

“You are NOT going to cause trouble to anyone Joohyun! You are here to enjoy your time! Not sulk over whatever has already happened! It’s your time to shine!” She have a dramatic speech, I slowly nodded

“Now come on! we’re going down for dinner, Sehun guys are here too, Baekhyun and his fiancé will be coming too, hurry and come!” Eunhye rushed me and dragged me out of my room, as we stepped down the stairs everyone looked at us with glee

“Oh my god! Joohyun you look the same!” Chanyeol yells and throws himself onto me in a hug, I chuckled loudly as I hugged everyone in the room and reminisced the old times.

“I think the last time we all got together was Jongdae’s wedding huh? Damn it’s been long!” Suho wiped a fake tear, suddenly the old man walked in silencing all of us as we payed him the attention.

“Please have a seat, Young master and his fiancé will be a bit late, sudden change in notice! These love birds.” He said as everyone side eyed me, I lowered my head but then remembered I’m not with him, he’s not with me. It’s been a long time, I’m here to enjoy

I smiled and sat down at the table ushering everyone else to do the same, Sehun was on my right and Chanyeol was on my left. The servants had started to bring in the food, which hyped everyone up.

Around 10 minutes into the dinning and remembering the fun times, we all were silenced as we heard the front door creak open. Our focus now shifted towards the hallway, my heart was going crazy as we heard footsteps getting louder and towards us.

I gulped which Sehun notices and out a hand over my lap, I looked at him and he looked back with assurance. I smiled lightly before looking at the food and picking up my fork to jab that peice of apple, but even before I could do so, he arrived.

“Hey guys.” His voice melted me, it echoed throughout the room. Everyone got up to greet him and his fiancé, I also got up, but I couldn’t see him through Sehun’s wide shoulders so I kept my eyes down.

“Eyyy Sehun-Ah! Wheres that girl you were saying?” Baekhyun teased him as sehun gave his high pitched chuckle and playfully slapped his back.

“Hey—“

I looked up to see those same old soft eyes as before, his hair now black and slicked back, perfectly dressed in a tip top black tux, still hovering over me and still the mosey handsome man I’ve ever seen. I could see the shift in his eyes, and mine probably mirrored his.

“Hey, long time no see.” I made out words and spoke to him, he looked extremely shocked. His lovely fiancé had suddenly joined his side and cling her arm around his.

“You must be Joohyun? Ahh just like he described you! Nice to finally meet you after all these years of me imagining your characteristics! Anyway I’m Kim Yuna, Baeks fiancé.” She held her hand out, at this point all eyes were on me, my eyes were at Baekhyun’s. He talked about me these past years? To her? His fiancé??

I smiled bitterly and shook her hand, they went on to greet everyone as I sat down and ate, Sehun suddenly leaned in and whispered, “You know he’s not married yet.” I looked at him and he was smirking, I slapped his arm playfully as he backed away laughing.

Baekhyun’s eyes were on the both of us, I looked at him with a blank stare and back at the food in front of me.

The rest of the night was us all remembering the past years of us together, Eunhye telling that she’s pregnant to the rest of them and them freaking out about how fast Jongdae is, Yuna trying to fit in with us, and Baekhyun’s continuous stares.

***

It was now time to sleep the rest of the guys were gone to Baekhyun’s other penthouse just around the corner while me Eunhye, Jongdae, Yuna and Baekhyun were the only ones left.

​

Baekhyun and Jongdae were talking which left us three ladies also talking, mostly Eunhye and her talking I just joined in occasionally.

“That’s right— Ah Joohyun! Tell me about yourself, since you’re the only female friend of Baelhyun aside Eunhye! Tell me how he was like?” Yuna clasped her hands together as my eyes slightly widened, and from the corner of my I could see Baekhyun eyeing me.

“I—uh he was a very nice guy, funny and playful. . yea, I’m sorry I didn’t know him very well, you should ask Eunhye more about him! I’ll be going to bed, my jetlags kicking in.” I awkwardly spoke and got up saying goodnight to everyone and walked upstairs, when I looked back down Baekhyun’s eyes were on me.

I looked back and walked to my room shutting the door and locking it. I paced over to my bed and plopped onto it, leaving back I held me head, “Fuck, he still talked about me, to his fiancé! He still looks a me like that!” I ruffled my hair and shook my legs in the air.

I hope tomorrow doesn’t bring anything bad for me.

#byun baekhyun #baekhyun #baekhyun scenarios #baekhyun angst #exo #baekhyun ceo ff #baekhyun imagine #baekhyun ff #baekhyun imagines #baekhyun x reader #kpop imagines #exo exok exom #kpop scenarios #exo scenarios #exo reactions #baekchen #exo chen #exo sehun #exo xiumin #baekhyun x you #baekhyun x oc #superm baekhyun #superm #baekhyum series #baekhyun au #exo au series #privé by bbh #prive alliance #baekhyun ēxø

[ashintheairlikesnow]

BTHB: Touch Starved (Danny/Nate)

@badthingshappenbingo​ request answered! Anon requested: Would you be willing to write the ‘touch starvation’ prompt with Nate and Danny? Thanks!

I had initially thought I’d do a post-rescue piece, but this ended up going in a during-captivity direction, so if that isn’t what you wanted, Anon, I’d be happy to write another one, just send me an ask and let me know! Timeline: Late October the year Danny turns 25, so post-Happy Birthday.

Tagging the Danny people: @bleeding-demon-teeth​, @spiffythespook​, @special-spicy-chicken​!

CW: Implied/referenced sexual assault/rape, implied/referenced/visible evidence of torture and violent abuse, discussion of harm to animals (no animals harmed in this fic). Brief suicidal ideation (just a mention)

“How long is he going to be gone?” Danny asks, stopping by a large fallen log, dropping into a crouch to look at some mushrooms that were growing out of the decaying bark, a hint of green moss. He pulls at the rough leather collar around his throat, wincing at the always raw or half-healing skin underneath that stings when exposed to the air.

There’s a little padlock on the buckle now to make sure Nate won’t take it off before Abraham gets home. He used to, and Abraham caught him, once, when he was trying to rub antibiotic cream on Danny’s throat and Abraham came home earlier than they expected.

Now it’s padlocked on.

“He s-s-said three to f-four days this time,” Nate replies, standing a few feet away with his own eyes watching a little moth that had settled itself against a tree trunk, nearly invisible with wings the exact shade of the bark, with the same appearance of rough texture.

“Good. I like when he goes for four days.” Danny just watches him for a moment, looking at the older man with his black hair a little shaggy, hanging down to his eyes, the stubble he lets grow on his face when Abraham doesn’t care if he shaves today. There’s a focus in those green eyes, as they watch the moth close its wings and then open them again, that Danny loves.

He wants that focus on him, but he can’t have that, because Nate belongs to Abraham and Danny’s not a person anymore. He’s not allowed to have things, to want things. To want people. He’s not allowed to want Nate.

He doesn’t even want Nate, does he? He just wants… someone. Anyone who isn’t Abraham Denner. Someone to care about him, to love him, to touch him.

No, it is Nate. He wants Nate to love him.

He wants Nate to care about him, because he can’t remember what it was like to be cared about in a way that didn’t involve… all of this.

I wish you would touch me, he thinks, and then banishes the thought and turns back to the moss, trying not to be all too aware of Nate’s shoulders beneath the warm, dusky blue cable-knit wool of his sweater, the way he stands in the loose-fit heavy khaki pants, the way Danny knows exactly how well they fit around his hips.

Walking traps is hard on Nate the last few weeks, the whole circuit takes a few miles when you do it all at once and having to step over the logs and tree branches and other things, following the marked trail from snare to snare, leaves him limping by the end, teeth ground together, jaw set. Danny’s not sure what happened exactly, only that Nate and Abraham had some kind of fight when Danny was last in the cellar, and Abraham came away with scratches on the side of his neck and the first bruise Danny has ever seen on him and Nate came away with a leg that got hurt, somehow, someway.

So the trail is harder for him, now, while it heals. 

But Danny’s not allowed to go alone, and he’s not allowed to help Nate walk, either, because that would mean touching him. No one but Abraham touches Danny now, except when Abraham thinks it’s funny to have Nate hurt him.

When Abraham laughs at his protests, looks right in his eyes, and then Nate can’t say no, just like nobody can say no, after a while. Nate turns white as a ghost after and drinks until he passes out and he probably doesn’t want to be anywhere near Danny anyway, it’s just that they’re the only people here who aren’t Abraham, they only have each other.

But Nate stopped touching him at all, after the last time Abraham made him do it. He thinks months ago, but Danny doesn’t know time as well as he used to, he forgets. Not too long after Abraham said it was his birthday, that he’s twenty-five now.

Not long after that, one night it was really bad, and Nate hasn’t so much as brushed against him since. Hasn’t snuck out at night to watch movies with him, invite him onto the couch, touch his fingers while they work together in the garden.

Nothing.

Nothing but Abraham’s hands.

It’s been so long and Danny just wishes, just for a second, that there was someone to touch him where it didn’t end in something else, something worse. He wants touch without shame, touch that isn’t forced on him or part of a barter, touch that doesn’t end in a knife or demands or orders or that barking high-pitched laughter that worms into his head and won’t stop.

He wants someone (Nate) to put a hand to the small of his back, just rest it there, and remove it again without having to trail fingers up his neck to the carved-in scarring of who he belongs to. He wants a hand in his hair that doesn’t pull until it hurts. He wants touch without pain, without the guilt in Nate’s eyes, without crying or exhaustion or being told what to do.

He can’t have that, though, and all he wants - all he wants in the whole world, now, a world that is narrow and caged-in - is just to hold Nate’s hand, maybe, just for a goddamn second.

No. Not allowed.

Wrong thoughts.

(who do your hands belong to? is this body yours, or mine?)

Y-yours, it’s yours, it’s not mine anymore, not my body.

(good boy)

He’s not going to think about Nate’s hands, calloused from when he chops wood, too, from the work he does alongside Danny in the garden during spring and summer. The way they went from looking almost delicate and meant for opening books, taking annotations and typing lectures, to roughened and coarse outdoorsman’s hands. He won’t think about the way Nate had brushed sweaty hair back from his face when he was sick and sometimes slept beside him on the floor.

He’s not going to think about the sweetness of Nate’s eyes on his, sometimes, when Abraham isn’t looking. He’s not going to think about how that stopped, too, after the bad night where Abraham had had a new idea and made Nate carry it out.

He’s not going to think about what he wants and cannot have.

He’s not going to think about any of it because it’s not for him.

He’s not going to think about how sometimes it’s not just his stomach that’s hollow, but his skin. His scarred-up worthless skin that feels hungry, for someone, for anyone who won’t hurt him. Right down to the tips of his fingers. He’s carved out into a yawning nothing that can’t stop craving someone, something else, something more, something better.

There is nothing better.

This is the best life will ever be again.

Don’t think about his hands.

Danny squints at the half-decayed hollow log, trying to distract himself. Did he read in one of the books they make you read in school that moss mostly grows on the north side of things? He feels like he might have heard that, once upon a time, in the life that he never lived, that doesn’t exist, because there was never anything before Abraham.

The mushroom cap gives a little under the touch of his finger, and he wishes he could feel it better, that his hands weren’t rough and calloused and half-numb after so long, the only part of him that never notices the cold. He wishes it was someone’s (Nate’s) skin. The moss he can kind of feel, a sort of soft brush of texture, and he looks at the deep dark green of it, smiling faintly. 

Moss only grows on the north side of trees. Wasn’t there a character in a book who got lost, and they remembered that trying to find their way home? Which would mean if he walked the other way, the way the moss didn’t grow, he would go south. South and south and south, walk out of the woods one day, cross the border, go home. Take Nate with him and then maybe one day ask if he wanted to, if he could-

Stop it.

This is home.

Don’t think about that, that belongs to Abraham now.

(you’re here until I’m done with you, little Red, and let me reassure you that you don’t want me to be done with you)

Besides, he didn’t know shit about moss. He’s not allowed to read the navigation parts of the survivalist books the body left behind in the cabin, Abraham ripped those pages out (“H-how fucking d-d-dare you, Bram, that’s a book, you c-c-can’t just r-rip apart books l-ike that! That’s like a fucking s-s-sacrilege!”) and left him only the cooking and the ways to make your own medicine. Danny only knows what he’s allowed to know, what it’s okay to know. He only knows what Abraham says he should know.

Everything else is buried in the pain, and he lets it stay there, down in the muck, like the animals in the tar pits Dad took them to see when they were kids (no he didn’t, you never did that, you’re making it up). Abraham is always telling him his memories are wrong, full of holes, fucked up beyond repair. That he shouldn’t try to use his mind or think, because thinking isn’t what he’s here for, is it?

(you’re here for me)

Yes, Abraham, for-… for you, I’m here for you.

(good boy)

Danny bites his lower lip, and thinks about the bruise on his hip, still aching and made of dark purples and blacks today, teeth marks in perfect half-circles on each side of where the bone stuck out under the skin, slightly scabbed. Abraham had drawn blood, last night, a gift to remember him by, since he was going on a supply run and leaving the two of them here.

A reminder, but it was still better than it used to be. He used to chain Danny up in the living room for supply runs, take the key with him. Nate would bring him food from the kitchen and he could reach the bathroom on the chain, so it was really okay, he didn’t mind, he didn’t.

Especially because when Abraham was gone, Nate would sleep on the couch out in the living room, or next to him on the floor, just a few inches away, and sometimes when he woke up Nate’s hand was warm on top of his.

Once - just the once - Nate had said he could sleep on the couch, too, and they’d taken the cushions off the back to make it bigger and crammed themselves onto it, Danny’s long body meaning he had his feet up on the arm of the couch with the chain running off the side, but Nate had been warm next to him underneath the blanket they’d stolen from Abraham’s bed, and he’d almost felt safe.

And Abraham never knew about those wrong thoughts, about that disobedience. He never knew.

Abraham didn’t chain him up any longer, because he knew Danny wouldn’t run away anymore. Where would he go? They were so far in the woods he couldn’t possibly know how long to walk to find another person, and he couldn’t really remember his directions any longer.

He’d tried to run away a few times, and the punishments when he was caught - and he was always caught - had made him shy away from even thinking about trying to run ever, ever again.

He didn’t need to think about anything but Abraham. What Abraham wanted, what would make Abraham happy, how to be good enough for Abraham. That was all he should think about, it hurt too much to think about anything else.

(nothing should live inside your head, little puppy, but me. what I like, how I take my drinks, what I want for dinner, whether or not I’m going to cut you up today, how to make me pleased enough that I don’t need to.)

Yes, Abraham.

(there is no life before me. just our family, Nate and I and our puppy)

Just our, um, our family.

Danny twisted his mouth into a mean little smile and stared fixedly at the moss, made himself think about before.

It might be the smallest rebellion, but he had been here for years and he had almost no rebellions left, and he had to cling to even the smallest unpunished disobedience to try and remember that he’d ever been anything other than this. It felt like defiance, like waving some kind of flag, just to let himself question whether or not moss only grows on the north side of trees.

Maybe Ryan read it in school, and told him, and that’s why he can’t remember the book. Danny’s throat catches, a drift of an image of his little brother’s face the night before he’d gone to see Nate and lost everything. They’d played video games all night long, just hanging on the couch in Danny’s apartment playing Halo and drinking, bitching about the way Halo 5’s storyline went, the way their parents had acted at Christmas around Ryan’s newest boyfriend (who they didn’t like, but not because he was a boy. At least Corrine and Patrick never gave a shit about that, because if Danny had to add being in the closet to the laundry list of bullshit he had to do because of his parents, he wasn’t sure he would even have made it to adulthood). He and Ryan had spent the night being absolutely perfectly normal people with no idea they’d never see each other again.

I wish I’d hugged him before I left the next day instead of telling him he was too sweaty coming back from the gym. I wish I’d said ‘I love you’, or something else nice, just anything, anything better than ‘I’ll be back late, wish me luck’ what the shit was that, like I was a fourteen year old with a fucking crush-

No, stop it. No life before Abraham. I’m a good dog.

Besides, who even knows if that happened? Maybe you didn’t play video games at all, maybe you had a fight and you just don’t remember it, maybe you did something to deserve this and that’s why it happened, maybe you’re making this bullshit happy memory up.

I’m a good dog, I want to be good.

Maybe you just don’t remember what you did to deserve this.

(you let this happen because you knew you were born to be mine)

Maybe Ryan knows what you did to deserve this.

Abraham always says they’re not looking anymore.

(don’t you ever fucking forget)

Maybe they know why this happened to you, and that’s why they’re not looking.

There is so little sleep, never enough to eat, sometimes Abraham puts stuff in his water or just lays a pill on his tongue and he doesn’t really know, anymore, what happened and what didn’t, beyond the days and nights Abraham wants him to hurt. He’s so good at hurting, is the thing. Abraham is always telling him it’s irresistible, finding someone like him. That you can’t just put a starving man before a buffet and tell him not to eat.

He’s good at jamming himself down deep into the tiniest places he has left, and Abraham turns the rest into Red, and Red is so good, Red wants to be good, to be try harder, to be a good boy…

Danny presses at the moss again, thoughtfully, and he almost asks Nate if he knows what direction moss grows, but then he keeps is mouth shut, because… what if it’s a stupid question? What if he’s wrong? What if it’s another memory that isn’t real, just like all the others? Danny remembers a lot of false things, now, and forgets most of the true ones.

It’s safer, that way.

(up above your head. perfect, that’s perfect, that’s my good boy, trying so hard for me. oh, don’t look at me like that, puppy. you’re the one who chose the knife)

“We’re g-going to be late coming b-back from traps if you k-k-keep staring at logs,” Nate says after a long pause. Danny jumps a little, startled out of his thoughts, and turns back to him with an apology on his tongue before he realizes Nate’s voice was teasing, not upset, that he’s smiling down at Danny with that odd look he gets sometimes, where he looks at him like Danny’s a book he’s always wanted to read but he doesn’t know how to open it.

He tries not to think about that look in his eyes too often, but sometimes it follows him everywhere he goes, makes him feel like he used to feel when he was a person, shivery and awkward and a little too big for his own skin.

He tries to stop himself, but sometimes Nate’s face, with that slight half-smile that pulls at the little scar in his lip, is all that sticks in his mind at all.

“Sorry, Nate. We’re almost to the first snare, let’s, um, let’s go ahead and get to it.” Danny jumps back to his feet, towering a little over Nate when he stands all the way up, rolls his shoulders, straightens his back. Being tall, though, means opening himself up to the breeze and he shivers a little as the autumn air cuts right through his T-shirt and pajama pants, the thin sneakers he’s allowed to wear already damp around all the edges, the wet soaking into his socks.

He’ll get sick again, and as long as he can keep doing chores it’s okay, but if he gets too sick for chores, Abraham will lock him in the cellar. Danny gnaws on a bit of chapped skin on his lower lip, rubbing his hands together. He has to not get that sick. As long as he can still do his chores, it’s okay, Abraham just laughs at him when he sees his brother and talks to him through the kitchen window, just laughs because if the dishes still get done, if dinner still gets made, it’s okay.

He won’t get hurt if he can still do his chores.

He makes elderberry syrup and fire cider, takes some of both every single day. There isn’t enough food (yes there is, there’s plenty, it’s just not for you) but Abraham doesn’t care if he drinks the medicines he makes out of the survivalist book, he doesn’t care how much he has of those. Sometimes he drinks the fire cider until the acid in the vinegar makes him sick, because at least then he doesn’t feel hollowed out and light-headed from hunger.

None of it helps the sense of emptiness under his skin, the wish for something gentle, and sweet, and soft in all the violence.

Danny can’t help the twist of sadness in his chest when he finds the rabbit in the first snare still alive, but exhausted and worn out from trying to get free, little chest heaving, just lying on its side. “I’m sorry,” He says, softly, under his breath, as he crouches next to it. Nate stands close by, hands in his pockets, watching him. “I get it, you know. I get you.”

(don’t tell me you’re apologizing to the goddamn prey, little puppy)

He always apologizes to the animals they catch, and Abraham laughs at him, laughs and says dogs hunt and only the dumbest puppy would stop to say he’s sorry before doing what comes naturally. But this doesn’t come naturally, it never has, he always worries about what the little animals think of him before they die.

Sometimes he wonders if they recognize him, if they see that he’s prey, too, that he’s in a snare like theirs, the leather around his neck just like the rope.

Danny shivers hard enough to rattle the little tag that hangs off his collar, then takes a deep breath and says, all at once to Nate like the whole sentence is a single word, “Please let me have your knife for a second.”

Nate pauses, then slips the little knife he’s allowed to carry out of his pocket, opening it up. It was one of his birthday gifts from Abraham, and it’s got a black handle with silver tooled into it in the shape of vines and a deer (it’s a fucking stag, puppy, get some goddamn culture - when I was little, I met a god with a stag’s head, you know) and even Danny could admit, when he saw it, that it was gorgeous.

Before Abraham forced Nate to cut him with it to show how sharp it was.

Nate’s a person, he’s Abraham’s true love and best friend, Nate is real and Danny isn’t - so Nate gets knives. Not that knives would do them any good, here, not with Abraham. And Nate doesn’t like the knives, anyway, because he gets cut with them, too. Once he was done cutting up Danny, after all, Abraham had cut him.

“F-figured you’d w-w-want me to slit its throat,” Nate says softly, the offer still there in his voice if not in his words, the compassion in his expression. He knows Danny hates having to kill them, to take the little lives away when all they did was be born in the wrong forest at the wrong time. Abraham always makes Danny do it, laughs at him when he hesitates, or hurts him if he refuses.

“I don’t want you to do it,” Danny says, fighting the urge to pat its sad, tired little head. It’s probably crawling in bugs, honestly, and it wouldn’t appreciate the gesture, but Danny wishes someone would pat him on the head with understanding sometimes, and not just because he’s the dog.

If only someone would touch him and it didn’t hurt. That used to happen, didn’t it?

(no life before me)

“I kn-know it’s your j-job, Red, but he’s gone, for f-f-four days, so it’s n-not like he’ll know. You kn-know I n-n-never tell him any, anything like that, about y-you.”

“I know, but I still don’t want you to do it.” Danny shakes his head. “This is mine, to do, this is my job.” He takes a deep breath, my name is Red, counts to five, exhales slowly I belong to Abraham Denner.

Then he takes the knife with a murmured thanks (be grateful for every gift you are given) and reaches out, cutting the rope and not the rabbit. He cuts the rope again a few inches further down, and then again. Again and again and again, until it can’t possibly be tied back together this way.

The rabbit doesn’t run. It just lays there with the broken shreds of the snare around it, too tired to escape, staring at him with one wide eye while its little body heaves with its breath. Danny reaches out one hand, slowly, and then pulls it back.

“R-Red, wh-what did you do that for?” Nate asks, his voice slightly faint. Not angry, not upset, just… curious. “Why did you cut th-the rope? If you c-c-cut them all… we’ll have to redo th-th-them before B-Bram gets back, you… you know that, right?”

“Don’t tell him I cut the rope,” Danny whispers, hugging himself, it’s so fucking cold already and it’s only going to get colder. “I’ll fix it later. Don’t tell him.”

Did the rabbit remember a family? Are there rabbits born in little burrows in the spring to this one rabbit, that grow up and then leave and does she (or he, he supposes) remember them? When they’re gone, are the babies remembered by someone? If they disappear, or they die, does someone know that they were ever around?

Do other rabbits look for the rabbits that disappear in the woods?

“I w-won’t, Red, you know that.”

Danny just watches the little rabbit breathe, the way it lays so still you’d think it was dead except for the occasional movements of its eyes, the quick, shallow, panicked little breaths that start, gradually to slow and to settle.

Do rabbits touch each other? They must snuggle up in burrows, right? And it doesn’t have to be anything more than that, more than being warm together, reminding each other they’re alive, still here, that they made it through one more day without the wolves getting tired of playing with them, without the jaws closing around their throat.

(how much blood do you think you can lose before you black out, puppy? let’s find out)

Wh, whatever you want, Abraham, I can do whatever you want-

(I know you can, and you will, because you’re my good boy, aren’t you?)

Pl-please, please, I don’t want to die, please, please don’t kill me, please

(you’re not going to die. not tonight, anyway. if you die, you stop being my good little pup, hm? so let’s hold still and focus on staying alive tonight, there, just like this…)

Eventually, the wolf’s jaws are going to close around his throat. Eventually, he’ll be just like the rabbit, and there’s no one here to cut him loose from the snare.

It’s just Abraham and Nate, a family all their own, with their puppy.

“H-Hey.” Nate shifts from foot to foot - his leg is probably already aching, it takes nearly a third of the marked trail to even get to the first of the snares. “R-Red, we need to get moving-”

“I-I know, I know we do, I just… I just don’t want to kill them anymore,” Danny says softly, and he doesn’t move from his crouch on the ground. “I don’t want to kill the things like me, I just want to let them go. I just want them to go home.”

“Red…”

“I know, I know how it sounds, Nate, I know. Just let me be sad, okay, just for now, while he’s gone. Let me, let me be, um, be D-… be, um, me.”

That’s not your name anymore

(this body doesn’t belong to you)

Stop trying to remember the old name, it’s not yours

“Just let me not be Red, for just a second,” Danny says heavily. “While we’re alone.”

Nate is quiet, then, for so long that Danny can’t stand it and jumps up to his feet, stalking back and away without looking at him, forcing himself past the markings along the trees, not even trying to be quiet. A bird flees his noise in a flutter of wings, and he stomps on the fallen leaves, the red and yellows rotting to browns and giving under his feet, the cold damp sinking further into his feet through these stupid fucking canvas sneakers and the socks.

That was stupid, don’t tell him you think things like that. That’s dumb. Rabbits aren’t the same as you, rabbits have a fucking chance to run away. Rabbits don’t wear collars, rabbits don’t get tied to the bed, rabbits don’t, they don’t, they don’t have to-

“Fuck!” At the sudden outburst, more birds light up and squirrels shift in the branches up in the trees, leaves falling down around him. He kicks at a bush, shoves a low-hanging branch that nearly snaps back to hit him in the face, stomps as loudly as he can.

Be good, god damn it

(puppies don’t get to be angry)

Stop it, Red, stop it!

(bad dog, Red)

I’m good, I can be good, I can stop

(very bad dog, Red, now you’ll have to be fixed again)

I can do better, I’ll try harder, I can stop

He can’t. He can’t stop it, it’s boiling up inside of him and it all comes out too quickly for him to stop it, and his heart starts to pound as he kicks again, kicks at nothing but leaves, watching them float uselessly into the air and back down, bashes his foot against a tree. He’s not allowed to be angry, but he can’t stop.

Somewhere, Abraham is driving, somewhere he’ll feel it, he’ll know Danny had wrong thoughts, and when he comes back the muzzle will come back out and Abraham will lick up the blood running down his neck and laugh in his ear.

(I know everything about you. I know everything inside of you. I know every thought, every feeling, every neuron that fires inside that pretty, useless, broken little brain)

Abraham will come back and he’ll know, and there will be more hands, there are always, always hands but they never, they’re never hands that just want to hold him, it’s always hands that hurt. He’ll put the muzzle on and the headphones in so he can’t go away, so he can’t be someone else, so Abraham can watch him cry.

(god I wish I could bottle those fucking tears, puppy, you taste so good)

He screams, wordlessly, an animal sound of fear and rage and his hate for himself, the shame that he can’t run anymore, he doesn’t even want to. Where would he go? There’s nowhere, no one is looking for him, no one will ever find him here. Abraham is right, he’s right about everything, people like Danny were made for this. Only this. Forever this, until Abraham gets tired of him.

He screams, and he screams, and he screams because when Abraham comes back he won’t be able to scream anymore. He screams himself hoarse and Nate doesn’t stop him, doesn’t even move, just watches him and Danny can feel the eyes on his back.

“What did I fucking do?” He screams into the woods, his voice ragged and broken, and the trees don’t answer, and the birds don’t answer, and the animals don’t answer. He doesn’t know what he did to deserve this, but it must have been horrible, it must have been worth hell, because hell is what he’s living in, and he’ll be here until he dies.

When Nate grabs him by the elbow he spins around too fast and makes himself dizzy, stumbling to try and catch his balance. He wants to hate Nate Vandrum - the person, the true love, who gets to sit on the couch and sit at the table and eat all the food he wants, Nate who gets to be human - but he can’t, because what he wants more than to let the anger inside of him take over is for someone, anyone, to help him stop it; to stuff it back down where it’s safe, where Abraham can’t cut or burn or bleed it out of him again.

“R-Red,” Nate says, softly, and his grip on Danny’s arm is firm but it doesn’t hurt, and it’s been so long since anyone but Abraham touched him, really - even when Nate does it’s because Abraham tells him to, and that’s not the same, that’s just an extension of Abraham’s hands, wearing a different face. “Red, please-”

“I’m sorry I did that dumb thing with the rabbit,” Danny whispers, throat aching, eyes hot with tears but they don’t fall, he won’t let them, he keeps them glittering against his eyes, blurring the vision of the older man watching him, so he can’t see his face. “I’m sorry. I know I’m not allowed to be angry, I know I am, I know… I’m so sorry-”

“N-No, it’s okay, I, uh, I l-liked that you d-d-did that thing with the rabbit. That you let it go.” There’s a note to Nate’s voice, something he knows but doesn’t know, it’s been so long since he’s heard it.

Danny rubs the back of his hand against his eyes and blinks, looks at Nate more closely. The green eyes are warm, on his, and he swallows hard against a sudden awareness that Nate’s eyes are always warm when they look at him, aren’t they?

“You did?” He doesn’t mean his voice to come out so soft, barely above a whisper, but it does. Nate’s other hand moves, jerks a little, like he wants to do something with it but he doesn’t know what. “You’re not mad that I got angry? Puppies aren’t allowed-”

“I’m not mad. And you, you’re, you’re n-not…” Nate loosens the grip on his elbow, and he doesn’t want him to but he has no idea how to say it. Please, you haven’t touched me in weeks, please, I need touch that doesn’t hurt me. “We h-h-have plenty stored up. It’s f-f-fine. You’re right, th-they should get to go home… the rabbits.”

“I want them to go home,” Danny says, a little miserably, and sees the depth of understanding in Nate’s eyes and he clings to it, to the shred of being a person that Nate still seems to see in him. “I don’t want to see them in the snares anymore. I just want them to go home, where-… where there aren’t any people like, like us - like him - where there aren’t any… hands, that won’t stop, I just…”

I want to go home.

There is no home but here.

I want to go home.

“I kn-know,” Nate says, softly, and he takes a step closer, and then another. Danny can feel him, almost, the way he’s warm when everything else is cold now. “I know. I w-w-want them to go h-h-home, too. Y-you can go back to the cabin, if you w-want, I can walk the traps the r-r-rest of the way by myself.”

“No,” Danny says softly, and he can’t stop looking down at Nate’s hands, which he’s not supposed to think about. How they’ve changed since they got here, gone all rough and so have Danny, just in a different way “I don’t want to be by myself right now.”

“A-Are you sure? You c-c-could sit on the couch. He wouldn’t know. You kn-know I don’t tell him anything ab-about you, or what you say to me.”

“Does he ask?” Danny takes a breath, watches Nate step even closer, close enough that Danny can smell his cologne, the bottle Abraham buys him for Christmas each year. The forest around them seemed quieter now, just the usual rustle of leaves in the slightest breeze. “What I tell you, what I talk about?”

Nate pauses, watching him thoughtfully, and then he nods. “He d-does.”

“You tell him anything he wants, when he looks right at you,” Danny says, but it’s without a hint of blame. He was angry, at first, that Nate gave up and gave in so easily. He understands, now. You can’t do anything else, if Abraham looks at you long enough. You can’t do anything but what he wants, what he tells you to do.

He’s close enough now that the change in the air is real, the hint of another person’s presence, someone he isn’t afraid of. The only person left he isn’t afraid of. Nate swallows hard, in a way Danny can see shift the muscles of his throat the faint lines of pale circled scarring there from his time with Abraham before. “I d-don’t have to tell him about y-y-you.”

It’s an admission, Danny thinks, some kind of confession, but he’s not sure to what.

“What does that mean?”

“I d-don’t know. Just that it… doesn’t always w-w-work, when it’s about y-you.” Nate looks him over again, licking at his lips nervously, pressing them together in this habit he has that Danny has seen, over and over again, while they’ve been here. “It d-doesn’t always… I’m sorry.”

Danny laughs, bitterly, hands slowly going up over his face, blocking out the world around them. “I’m fucking sorry too, Nate. I’m so goddamn sorry, and maybe when I’m dead I’ll get to say I’m sorry for whatever I did to, to earn this, to make this happen to me. Maybe when he gets tired of me and I’m dead-”

“You w-won’t die here.” Nate grabs him by the arms, and Danny stumbles forward until Nate is holding onto him, arms so tight around him, and Danny’s knees nearly buckle. “N-not you, Red, n-n-not you, I won’t let you die h-here…”

He hasn’t been touched in so long like this, just held, just hugged and held onto, and he drops his head down, curving over himself until his head is on Nate’s shoulder.

Scratchy sweater fabric against his cheek, against the itching, healing muzzle scars, and Nate’s hand is in his hair, and Danny doesn’t cry but he feels the scream still bubbling in his throat, trying to make its way out.

“You n-never did a single fucking thing wrong, Danny,” Nate whispers, fiercely, and Danny’s eyes close at the name, the name he only thinks to himself sometimes just to try and remember that he used to have one, a person’s name, a people name, that he was something better than this, something more.

“You h-h-have to c-call me, call me Red, Nate,” Danny whispers. There’s a pause, and then he puts his arms up around Nate, too, slides them around his waist, and he knows this waist so well for so many terrible reasons but for just now, right now, he tries to know it for a good one.

“I don’t. I can c-c-call you whatever I want, r-right now, when he’s not here, and I w-w-want to call you Danny, so please, please l-let me, just for n-now, just for r-r-right now, please,” Nate whispers against his ear, and holds him like he’s real, like he deserves it, and Danny can’t let go of him.

“Why did you stop touching me?” He asks, and he keeps his head buried against Nate’s shoulder so he won’t see his face at the question. “It’s been weeks, I can’t live with only him touching me, why did you stop?”

“He m-m-makes me hurt you,” Nate says softly back. “I, it’s so hard to, to think that I h-h-have to hurt you all th-the time, and then I thought you m-m-must hate that someone who h-hurts you would be anywhere near, near you, I just… I just th-thought you wouldn’t want me to.”

“I do want you to,” Danny says softly, lips moving against the fabric of his sweater, feeling the warmth of it, the warmth of his body through the fabric, the strongly muscled shoulders, the rough hands that slide up into his hair but that’s all they do, they don’t pull, they don’t hurt, they’re just… there. “I want you to. I want something good, too, I can’t-… I can’t be in the snare alone, I can’t, I n-need you with me, too, Nate. Please, please, please don’t stop touching me, don’t, don’t make his hands be the only ones I remember anymore, please…”

“Sssshhhhhh. I’m right h-here with you.” Nate presses a kiss to the side of his head, just something gentle and reassuring, and Danny moves back to look at his face. Nate swallows, hard, taking the movement as rejecting the kiss, as not wanting it, and starts to pull back from him. “S-sorry, Danny, I’m sorry, I sh-shouldn’t have, I-”

Danny leans down and kisses him, all at once, a press of his cold lips to Nate’s warmer ones, the barest brush. When he pulls away Nate doesn’t go after him, doesn’t force him back down, doesn’t get angry. He’s not going to be hurt for that, or by it. That kiss was… safe.

Nate looks dazed, like maybe the book he wanted to read opened all on its own, and he’s not entirely sure what he’s going to find in there.

“Don’t stop touching me,” Danny says softly, and grabs Nate’s sweater with both hands, pulling him close, leaning down to kiss him again.

This time, Nate’s hands go up to his arms, curve around his shoulders. Danny moves in stumbling steps until his back’s against a tree, and Nate’s chest and stomach are pressed to his, the pressure of hips against his own is safe and nothing bad will happen to him here.

Nate’s mouth is gentle against his, the hands don’t move from around his shoulders. They don’t roam. They stay right where they are, and the buzzing despair and Abraham’s voice in his head goes quiet, goes silent, and all he hears is the birds and the breeze in the trees and Nate breathing, the soft sound of their mouths together.

“Danny-” Nate whispers against him. “Danny, is this r-r-really what y-you-”

“Shut up,” Danny whispers back, slides his hands up behind Nate’s head, kisses him again and again and again, and none of it hurts. “Call me Danny again.”

“D-Danny,” Nate whispers, and kisses the corner of his mouth. “Danny,” and a kiss to the scar along his cheekbone. Another whisper, another kiss to his cheek, then one to his jaw, then one to his neck just above the red skin rubbed raw by his collar, back up to his mouth. Everywhere his mouth skims Danny's skin it lights up - the way it used to feel when boys kissed him, when he kissed them, when it used to be something he wanted. It's something he wants, now. “Danny. You’re sure?”

“For now I am,” Danny says softly. “While he’s gone.”

“Okay,” Nate says, and presses one more kiss to his mouth, looking up into his eyes. “For now. Wh-wh-while he’s g-gone.”

Danny gives him a lopsided grin, slides arms up around his shoulders, and holds onto him for dear life.

This is the best life will ever be again.

#Daniel Michaelson's story #bad things happen bingo #bthb Daniel Michaelson's story #nate and danny #touch starved #captivity #pet whump #dehumanization #caretaker whumpee #caretaker #broken whumpee #defiant whumpee #tw: implied/referenced noncon #tw: implied/referenced torture #tw: knives #tw: blood #tw: discussion of harm to animals #caretaker and whumpee romance #hurt/comfort #h/c #whump #tw: suicidal ideation (briefly mentioned) #creepy whumper #intimate whumper #mentioned only whimper #noncon implied

[the-tick-tock-chaos-shoppe]

Helloooooo friends! I’m feeling in a rambly mood in which case I recommend scrolling by if you don’t wanna read my very unorganized thoughts h-

But anyways today I wanted to talk about my head cannons! I’ll do this quite a bit for all sorts of games (today I feel like doing some ahit-), but today ima focus on snatcher/ subcon in general!

★so first thing is that I head cannon that snatcher has ADHD, I believe They’ve  had this even when they were was alive

-I believe when was alive and very young, he struggled with talking to people at first so most kids found them weirder or just didn’t like them all that much (I think they studied a tad bit in what what socially acceptable and they had classes for royal Etiquette anyways so they got way better with people). In which case I like to imagine though it’s clearly not even close to cannon that they went into the woods nearby a lot.   Where the Local woodcarver+woodcutter lived (possibly The two were married), but they realized when seeing the very young prince fidgeting and the such he might need something to fidget with to focus on his classes and just for day to day things

In which case the woodcarver gave the young prince a wood cube with different textures on each side. they have this cube after death (they got one of his old brain dead servants to get it for them)

★ I believe snatcher is Demimale (Demiboy? Demiguy? Unsure of the appropriate term) , Asexual, and panromantic if you were curious about that!

★the snatcher is of course quite parental towards the subconites, but I think they wouldn’t be all that controlling,

 you want to jump in the swamp? Eh, got some new fabric for a new body for you in advance go ahead.  honestly though I do believe the one thing he did mostly because he wanted to distance himself from his own past from years ago, but basically I think if the subconites did anything more living wise (breathing when they clearly didn’t need to, eating, that kind of stuff)  he would just harshly remind them to stop or at most flick them (like if they were breathing he’d just flick their chest harsh enough to knock the nonexistent air out of them

-I even believe accidentally when hat kid or bow kid was around he’d do the same thing but realize ‘oh peck wait, those ones ACTUALLY need air’ or the such

-he would flick food out of anyone’s hands so if bow or hat kid wanted to snack they’d either have to hide somewhere that would take to much effort for snatcher to try to yoink their food, or just go back home with their stolen apples if they wanted to snack.

★he is very lazy and unless something’s getting blown up or something about the past of this forest he’s gonna go sit and read his books in peace. 

★I believe eating souls gives the snatcher quite a lot of power, but since I believe he basically has pure energy flowing threw him, if he stopped eating souls it’d cause a massive imbalance in said energy, causing him to go from ‘HAHAHAHA FOOOOOL’ to him just laying on the ground of the forest cause his lack of energy would cause him EXTREMELY exhausted and honestly he’d only be able to wave his hand dismissively.

★The snatcher would constantly wrap around trees for no reason in particular, so you’d just be walking in the forest and see his shadowy figure just laying on a tree branch Vibing

★no matter who you are if you mention some reason your a lawyer to the snatcher he’ll 100% make you do his chores still BUT also he would not stop talking/asking about law with you, and would also take your law books if you had them with you

★this isn’t mine personally but I’m adding in here cause it’s adorable. The subconites would bring Random things they found to snatcher, and no matter what it is or if the snatcher had seen it before he’d act in awe, ask questions about this finding, and just praise the subconite for finding it

★after awhile of hat kid visiting subcon snatcher would inadvertently pick up the action of booping things, he absolutely hates it and hat kid absolutely calls him out on it every time

★the snatcher knows the conductor and kinda just feels bad, which is quite surprising! I’ll explain why he feels bad later in when I do head cannons for conductor in a different post

★ his death day is June 5th! On this day he gets either extra snappy and moody

★if he accidentally goes into his prince looking form (which is caused by mass injury, weakness, or quick emotional change) and the subconites see it, the subconites would ask if they could do that as well, causing the snatcher to burst into tears.

★the snatcher loves going to the top of his tree and looking at the stars, but oddly he feels a tinge if sadness and almost guilt when looking at the crescent mood. So he prefers to star gaze on the night of a new moon

★he wouldn’t act upon it, but he DOES notice if a subconite leaves the forest (though since I think the soul/spirit would start to fade away after awhile of not being in a spiritual area, the snatcher would try to quickly leave and yoink the subconite back

-the only situation where he’s INSTANTLY concerned is when the subconite’s presence in the forest just instantly disappears, cause either that means some ghost hunters got in and are taking the spirits of the subcon ties for studies or something. OR that it’s the weird person that he never really got to see, but he knew that the person had red strings that could easily wrap around a subconite letting the person take them away

And that’s it for now! I hope you enjoyed reading my many head cannons, have a great day! 

#you should know the only reason I’m posting these is because a friend of mine was really kind and said some people might like these h- #so to that friend thank you!! #ahit #a hat in time #ahit the snatcher #a hat in time the snatcher #the snatcher #ahit head cannons #a hat in time head cannons #ahit headcannons #a hat in time headcannons #fandomz speaks #fandomz rambles #long post #head cannons #headcannons

[molly-rapozo]

Home, Palaces, Expanses Alike

I’m looking towards the window, the one with four panes that looks out over the vast expanse of the desert. The top of a mesa floats above all the brown and orange rocks glittered with green pines and brush. The white chiffon curtains that frame my view come in and out of the picture, creating a separate and equally beautiful picture of their own. How inventive they are. 

This is my mind palace. Welcome, greetings, slip off your shoes at the front door, if you will? Right at the doormat, yes, that’s a perfect spot. You’re such a respectful guest. Thank you. 

Thank you for stopping by too! I recently discussed the mind palace idea with my dear friend, Marin, and I’ve decided to conjure it into a real existence. 

The conversation started with us reading passages from our iPhone notes to each other. What an intimate experience that was! I kept my mouth shut and didn’t read so many things for fear of being too exposed, even though I was reading these notes to someone who knows me better than most. 

I didn’t read the notes that said “FOCUS ON WHAT YOU CAN CONTROL AND BE GRATEFUL FOR THAT.” I did not read, “I stopped thinking about the distant future when I realized I can’t control it.” I did not read a personal favorite of mine, for fear that it may be too personal. “A lonely walk to expand the inner life so much that it’s bursting out of its cage.” Or what came after: 

“I realized today that I’m still terrified of being alone.” 

All these tails and snips are from years ago. Maybe I felt they weren’t relevant to read anymore? Or maybe it was that they didn’t seem as fun. Which would you rather: musings on loneliness or an excerpt from when another friend of mine and I decided to give everyone we mutually knew a spirit-candy? I’m Fun Dip. 

What I did read was a quote from my brother’s girlfriend, which she exclaimed while she was in deep focus over a puzzle: 

“I was sitting there in my mind palace, doing the sky.”

God, how I latched to mind palace. My castle, right there! Right at the tip top of my head! What a pleasant picture. 

I read Marin my quote and mentioned that I do really love the words “mind palace.” Marin explained to me that it’s a common therapy technique to create a real mind palace. A happy place, if you will. One with texture and shape and not just a figment of the imagination but the physical realm of your imagination, your images, your memories. Your home. 

My college years were spent trying to charge in the opposite direction of homesickness. The feeling becomes inescapable when you search in all the wrong places. All I wanted, needed, was a spot in the world for my warm, stunning, ruby red heart. Things could have been so much simpler if I had known that I had access to my own home, at all times. The only spot in the world for my heart is my heart. Right here! 

I am cycling through a few mind palaces. Trying on different fits and shapes. The desert home, for example. 

This image seems to fit nicely: a big, soft nest. Nestled in the cup formed at the intersection of one large branch breaking off into several smaller branches. A sturdy home nestled in a possible infinity. The nest is dome-shaped, with a small entrance on the side — a winter wren’s nest. You’ll know it by its adornment of thick, green moss and spruce twigs. Plush and structurally sound, all at once. 

Step inside my beautiful wren’s nest. The walls are curved because it’s a dome, isn’t that so cool? You’ll see a table to the right of the door way, with enough seats for everyone. A small lamp illuminates the spread of red, red raspberry jam, a crock of butter, a nutty and seedy bread, and a fresh pot of tea, steam still rising out of it smooth and steady and dancing, like silk on a clothesline shifting with the wind. There’s a few books I’m currently reading on the table, with shreds of paper and post-its torn in half sticking out from the pages. I love to take notes. Feel free to read a little, if you’d like. The books are really good.

There’s a small cup for cream, if that is how you take your tea. I saw a cow shaped one a few years ago in a coffee shop. When you poured, the cream flowed from the cow’s mouth. It’s a really silly image when you think about it. Perhaps that’s the one I have, here, in my wren’s nest mind palace. A novelty creamer seems like a good fit, as goofing off is one of my favorite hobbies. You and I laugh over tea about how silly it is that a cow would let the milk fall out of its mouth instead of its udders. 

Look around, there’s a bed against the far wall to the right, just past the table. I’ve tried to make this the coziest, most fluffy place in the whole house. There are quite a few pillows, just so that I can sit up in bed without ruining my back. Although, I probably still will. 

My love for being in bed has no bounds. According to my partner, I announce at least once a day my love for laying in bed. It seems to me this may be a subconscious requirement, like when a dog has to circle in place anywhere from five to fifteen circles before it can comfortably plop down. There will be no proper settling until I have made fanfare. 

The wall in direct opposition to the door has a small window, framed by a twist of twigs and the same white chiffon curtains, twisting a little with the breeze. The window is above the kitchen sink and it looks out over the vast meadow that the tree sits on the very edge of. Below, it’s spring. It’s daisy and tall grasses and cowslips for as far as the eye can see. Come back inside, though, let me continue my tour. 

There’s a small fridge, a small cabinet for pantry items. A shelf for root vegetables, mostly tubers and sweet onions and garlic. Plenty of treats too — I rely heavily on the dark chocolate I keep on hand. I eat it as a good day celebration, a bad day salve, and, often, a reward for finishing a grueling task. 

To the left of the door, a book case, stacked with many read and unread books. There are quite a few options. I have a small worktable for projects of the textile sort, lit by another small lamp. You could pick up some scraps, if you feel inspired. I enjoy the glow of the lamp but if I could, the whole house would be lit by many candlesticks, scattered all over. I guess I could do that. It is my mind palace, after all. But logistically, I’m working with fabrics and yarns over here. And if I were to get into a passioned frenzy over a project, what if I flung a patchwork block onto a flame? That just simply would not be good for a house of twigs. Or my quilt. 

Oh! I’ve just had the best idea. A patchwork with scorched edges. How interesting. A discussion for another day, I suppose. 

Another version of my mind palace could take place with an ocean view. Who doesn’t enjoy the sound of waves crashing against a rocky shoreline? It’s a sound I didn’t know I liked so much until I moved close to the ocean (well, in the ocean, kind of?). I am able to visit the beach from time to time. Watching the water roll in — cobalt to light blue aerated water to white and foamy against the jet black lava rocks — is a very pleasant way to pass the time, if time’s what you’ve got. 

I think what most appeals to me about the idea of mind palaces is the daydream aspect of it all. As one who frequently drifts off into dreamtime all day long, I did really enjoy the lost hour I spent writing the above narrative about my nest. Lost feels like the wrong word, as what’s more productive than building an entire world from scratch? 

Focus on what you can control and be grateful for that. 

I’m not sure this is really headed anywhere other than a heavy-handed suggestion to build your own mind palace. 

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think I might take a lonely walk and explore the expanse of my world upstairs. Let it burst out of its cage, if you know what I’m saying.

[elizapbrooke]

A discovery of pancakes

This is my newsletter from Friday, May 22. You can sign up here.

I am disappointed to announce that the bird call I thought belonged to an owl comes, in fact, from a mourning dove. “One of the most abundant and widespread of all North American birds,” Wikipedia says. It’s an embarrassing but maybe understandable mistake. I figured this owl was out during the day because it was a creature of New York like the rest of us, its circadian rhythm all fucked up by early morning garbage trucks and the blue glow of the Chase Bank across the street. The mourning dove’s coo is low and melancholy, a distinctive series of five notes. I’d certainly forgive you for thinking it’s a hoot. As I was listening to mourning dove calls on my computer and having this horrible realization, one landed on the fire escape and startled me with the loudest, most intimate rendition of their song I’d ever heard. It may as well have pressed its beak up against the glass. (I assume it thought there was a dove in the apartment.) I crept over to the window to confirm with my eyeballs what AllAboutBirds.org had already told me, and, yep, there it was. It felt so special to have a mystery owl in the neighborhood, but I guess doves are lovely birds too, with their plushy throats and elegantly tapered tail feathers. Anyway, my friend Sid tells me he’s heard owls in Gowanus, so I’m keeping my hopes up. This week I published a story for Curbed detailing the history and recent evolution of the home office. As I was fact checking it, I realized I’d accidentally talked to ten hundred sources, so please do enjoy the fruits of my labor. I’m not here to talk about home offices, though. A few weeks ago, I woke up in the middle of the night and discovered I’d been brainstorming pitches in my sleep. I was thrilled. On account of pandemic depression and seeing very little of the outside world, I’ve really been struggling to come up with story concepts, which is problematic because that’s my job. Most of my dream pitches evaporated upon waking, but I managed to hold onto one, and in my sleepy haze I thought it was possibly the greatest idea I’d ever had. It was: PANCAKES ARE HAVING A MOMENT IN QUARANTINE. I decided I’d email the New York Times first thing in the morning. In the light of day, I realized that there wasn’t really a story there. When you’re writing a trend piece, you want to be able to point to, I don’t know, at least four really solid examples from the public sphere. My evidence was:

Alex and I had made pancakes recently

We were planning to make them again

I’d recently discussed pancakes with Molly and Vivian

I’d heard you can make pancakes from sourdough starter discard (which actually does speak to the zeitgeist)

But here’s the thing. Pancakes are a great topic for a newsletter. So here is my pancake article.

***

I’ve always liked the look of a big stack of pancakes, but I never really got why people were so into eating them. I like a breakfast that is hyper-functional and maximally filling. Because I’m an aging hippie, my preferred breakfast is a double-sized bowl of Ezekiel cereal, which tastes like delicious cardboard and fulfills 42% of your daily fiber needs. Pancakes, like pastries, always struck me as glamorous but pointless. I was even somewhat distrustful of my mom’s pancakes, which are dense and nutty, not sweet at all. Her recipe came from a “chiropractor/health nut in San Diego about 31 years ago” and involves grinding your own flour from winter wheat berries, groats, rye, brown rice, and millet. I love them, but a family pancake breakfast still makes me feel very out of control. This all changed a few weeks ago when Alex and I decided to make pancakes for dinner. All I can say is that quarantine has a way of melting away the rigid little fucks you used to give. For once, the chaos I associate with pancakes sounded fun and freeing. Also we’ve been watching a ton of Parks & Rec, and I was feeling inspired by Leslie’s diet of waffles and whipped cream. We made buttermilk pancakes, extra fluffy ones that require you to whip the egg whites on their own for several minutes before folding them into the batter. Two with banana chunks, two with bits of frozen peaches, two blueberry, one bonus plain for me. I had mine without anything on top, enjoying the choking feeling of eating so much cakey carb. It felt like a hug. When I saw my friend Todd post a gorgeous stack of pancakes on Instagram, I asked him if he had any theories about why they’re such a good quarantine food. At first he thought I was trolling him, but when I told him I was dead serious, here’s what he said: “What I love about pancakes right now is that they feel both ordinary and radical at the same time. Ordinary because they are nostalgic, all-American, homey, comfortable, and approachable. Anyone can make them. But there’s also something really subversive about a stack of pancakes right now—the gluten, the non-plant-based butter and eggs, eating breakfast when Goop tells us we should be intermittent fasting, so forth. Eating pancakes in the time of coronavirus brings into focus how overwhelming wellness culture has become in recent years—celery juice and collagen smoothies will never, ever, ever beat a big, buttery, syrupy stack of flapjacks.” I would agree. Given my dedication to breakfast foods that involve sprouted beans—which predates our wellness moment but was certainly bolstered by it—I definitely find pancakes subversive. They make me feel nostalgic, too, but not for anything I’ve personally experienced. For weekends in high school that I spent ensconced in the television world of Gilmore Girls, maybe, where breakfast at Luke’s Diner is a comfortable routine. As I continued my journey into pancake reportage, I sought out the perspective of Sarah Jampel, an editor at Bon Appetit. While pancakes made from sourdough discard have their fans, Sarah is not particularly one of them. She’s also team waffle. I don’t really have a horse in the pancake/waffle debate, but Sarah makes a compelling case. “I have thought a lot about pancakes,” she emailed back when I asked if she had anything to say about the topic. “And yes, I have made them since isolation started—mostly because I'm ‘every woman’ and my fridge is overflowing with sourdough discard. ‘Put it in pancakes,’ I thought. The issue is that I need to add more flour (as well as butter or oil and leaveners) to sourdough discard to turn it into pancakes, so I ultimately end up using more ingredients for the sole purpose of not throwing some stuff into the trash or compost (but really, the trash). And even though pancakes sound nice in theory—why not start the day with a hot breakfast instead of the usual routine, eating a Clif bar with one hand while the other clings bare to the subway pole (huge sigh of nostalgia)?—in actuality they're inferior waffles. Unless you take care with your pancakes—loading them with lots of butter and separating the egg yolks and whites (this recipe's my fave)—they're too mono-textured.” Never fear: Alex and I loaded ours with an alarming amount of butter. I suppose it is to be expected that when you go out hunting for pancake insights, you come back with waffle testimonials. When I asked Alex’s high school friends to weigh in on the appeal of pancakes during a global shutdown, Nico said, “Waffles are the superior carb. They provide greater textural variety and are a better delivery vessel for condiments.” (Dylan has been eating toast all quarantine, and Dan “didn’t understand the question” because the only god he acknowledges is the Joy of Cooking’s pancake recipe.) My friend Molly has been eating a lot of savory pancakes under quarantine, for breakfast or lunch. She sautées a bunch of garlic and kale in olive oil, adding scallions at the last minute, and then sets the vegetables aside in a bowl. In goes the Bisquick, and she adds the kale mix on top of the pancakes as they cook; after a minute, she tops the pancake with shredded white cheddar so that when she flips it, the cheese turns crispy. She’ll eat that with a runny egg or garlic yogurt. I can’t wait to see her again so she can make one for me. Pancakes are one of the few foods that Molly has consistently been able to stomach during this period of immense anxiety. They have a strong positive association for her: in pre-corona times, she would make savory pancakes after playing soccer on Saturday mornings. Those games are one of the things she misses most right now. We talked on the phone while she made her daily trip outside to juggle a soccer ball. Molly likes to chat with friends during these breaks because bouncing a ball on your feet benefits from loose attention. “Cooking a pancake is similar,” she said. “It requires some focus but it’s not that hard. You don’t really need to cut anything. You just watch it.” Alex always says that cooking is meditative for him. I would respectfully disagree—to me, it feels more like hurtling down a mogul course—but I can see it with pancakes. You’re just systematically waiting and flipping, waiting and flipping. After making buttermilk pancakes, we progressed to Sqirl’s buckwheat pancakes for lunch on a Sunday. I can’t find the recipe online, but here’s a photo. For those who are lucky enough to have dodged my Sqirl talk thus far, it’s a phenomenal, semi-healthy breakfast and lunch spot in Silver Lake. Every time I’m in LA, I badger my companions into going right when it opens at 8 a.m. so we’re sure to get a table. When I was there to write about Dax Shepard in November, I high-tailed it to Sqirl right after our interview and embarrassed myself in front of the staff by inhaling bits of a particularly seedy cookie and having a loud coughing fit, after which I went around the corner to die in private. Alex and I thought we had all the requisite ingredients for Sqirl’s buckwheat pancakes, other than cactus flour, but the recipe calls for corn flour and it turns out cornmeal isn’t the same thing. We subbed in whole wheat, so they weren’t really Sqirlcakes, but they were still tasty in a restrained, earthy way. Alex convinced me to try one with raspberry jam, which I reluctantly admit was a great pairing. A week or two later, we made them again. I wasn’t really hungry because it was 2 p.m. and I’d already eaten lunch—Alex had just gotten up—but I pledged to eat my portion cold out of the fridge. Alex thought this was insane, but he sometimes forgets that I like my food a little squidgy. We went grocery shopping the next morning, which was as much of a bitch as it always is right now. Even though we’ve gotten the process down to a science, it still takes three hours from start to finish, with significant angst on my part about the cleanliness of the inbound goods. Finally everything was put away, and Alex headed off to take a shower. I was agitated and crazy hungry. I scrubbed my hands one more time, pulled the pancakes out of the fridge, and promptly dropped one on the floor while trying to get it into my mouth. I ate the rest in big, angry bites, one after another, standing in the middle of the kitchen. I didn’t want to sit down in my outdoor clothes. The pancakes were perfect, though. A shot of sweet, comforting carb straight to the heart.

[youllallriseintheink]

Early Ink Hell, Chapter 2: What Goes Around, Comes Around

Welcome to Early Ink Hell. It’s essentially my “canon” backstory for several ink creatures, showing how they interacted and became the way they did before Henry arrived.

While both Sammy and the Butcher Gang will both have chapters from their perspectives, this is mostly going to be about Alice Angel.

This is an Alice-centered chapter. Next is a Sammy-focused chapter.

---

Everyone was silent as Joey and Sammy walked. I didn't why, but I did the same. Sammy looked troubled- a little scared.

"Where is she?" he asked.

"Just a few cages down," Joey replied. Then, they ended up in front of me. "Here she is."

"Susie-"

"We don't know if that's Susie," Joey corrected.

"I am," I replied.

"Be careful," Joey told Sammy. "That could be the demon talking. Well, you know how we figure out who's in control. Shall we?"

Sammy hesitated. "There must be a better way. Susie, tell me something that only you would know."

Joey cut me off before I could say anything. "They share memories, Sammy. You know that."

Sammy sighed. Then, he pulled out two pairs of shackles. The two of them got into my cage and overpowered me- Joey holding me down, Sammy attaching the shackles to my wrists behind my back and to my ankles. Then, they carried me out. I didn't make it easy- I'm made of dense ink, so I'm hard and heavy, and I writhed the entire way, kicking and screaming. These are the two men who slit my throat, and if Sammy had found reasonable, I did not want to know where he drew the line. Still, eventually they got me into another room, and strapped me down against an operating table.

"Can I at least speak to her first?" Sammy asked.

In that moment, I saw him as my ticket to freedom. "Sammy. Remember our first date? You were playing it cool, said you had two tickets to that music festival and no one to take. I wasn't having none of that 'playing it cool' junk so I asked Jack to join you so that you'd confess, and it worked. And by the end of the night we were making out on a picnic blanket. You remember that? A demon wouldn't have. I promise you- it's me, Susie!"

Sammy just kept looking at me with these soulless, disappointed eyes, like he was having to tell me something he wasn't looking forward to telling me. "Susie, I know you're there. And I do remember. But the demon does, too, and we need to know if it's in control. The only way to know that it's really you is to make you have a sudden, verbal response to something- sudden enough that you couldn't disguise your voice. In other words, we need to make you scream."

I was panicking, writhing against those binds. I screamed something to Sammy about the first time I'd been to his home and met his cat while Joey Drew approached me with a knife. I screamed for Sammy to make it stop. There was no pain when Joey sunk the blade into my chest- it felt wrong, but there was no pain. He put his two hands into my chest, and I stopped writhing for my safety. I felt something that I hadn't felt for a long, long, time- my heart racing. I hadn't even known that I still had a pulse. He split my chest apart as though it were made of clay, and reached it. He pulled out this writhing black heart, still attatched to my chest by a white tendril, which stretched as he tore my organ four feet away from my body. Never have I felt so much pain. I saw white light, like I might have been dying. My screams must have been audible for miles.

"She's definitely not demonic now," came Joey's voice. My vision was still really fuzzy, but I felt the heart going back into my chest four hands smoothing the black ink over my chest, making it look like new.

"Does that mean she can come out?" Sammy asked.

"No. She could still go to the police about this. And even if that weren't the case, she's very dangerous. Her demonic side could come out at any time, just like the last time. It's for the good of everyone that she stay locked up."

Sammy came back into focus, and he looked nauseated.

"Sammy, please talk to me," I begged. But he looked back to Joey.

"I don't even want to think about this. Joey, please just put her back in her cage. I never want to see her again."

"Sure thing," Joey said, "there's nothing we can do for her now. I promise, you'll never have to think of her again unless you want to.

I never thought of Sammy as so cowardly. He didn't want to face what he'd done. I didn't resist on the way back to my cage. Once I was back inside of it, my cage was given a new label, painted right in front of it in black ink: human-fronted. I'd seen those labels. Some of them read "toon-fronted, some read "demon-fronted," and some read "human fronted." This is about what I would have guessed, but until now I didn't know what they'd meant.

The two of them stayed a while and experimented on some toon-fronted ink creatures, then left. The worst part is that Sammy seemed happy with some of those ink creature experiments. I'm just so disappointed in him.

Day 46 since I last lost count,

It was Saturday today, and that's the day that Thomas pays us a visit. He did, today, but he brought some ugly news with him: he'd been fired. At the end of our recess period, he hugged me goodbye, petted some of his favourite Borises, and said, "Well, I might as well give you all an extended recess and leave a nasty surprise for the next guy. I'm going to leave every last one of you that I can trust out in the open." A toon-fronted Barley clung to his leg. "Not you. You're going in the cage."

After he put away all the toons that he didn't trust to be out without supervision (I helped him with this), he turned to me. "Susie, do you think you'll be alright to stay out on your own?"

"Yes," I answered. I don't even hear the demon anymore, most days. It rears its ugly head sometimes- once I even had to be put back in my cage because I'd tried to collect some thick black ink from a drippy Charley in order to fix my hair. My action, of which I am justly ashamed, but the gave me the idea. I wasn't expecting it to cause him that much pain.

So, finally I'm on the outside. And I should tell that Thomas wasn't the only one being laid off- so was all of GENT, apparently. So, while a part of me wonders how long it'll be before I lose this degree of freedom, another part of me wonders if the walls are falling in around Joey Drew. Maybe we'll all be let out soon. I hope so.

Day 47 since I last lost count,

I was wrong. Joey seems to have hired on a new team. I don't know what their company name is. I just know that today, two men in burgundy uniforms were dragging in a new ink creature. It was humanoid. It was all black. It was, by the sound of its voice, Sammy. And they put him in the cage right across from my old one. I had been out in the open at the time, as I wasn't expecting any visitors that time of day. All I could do when they came was to head to sides and stay still, hoping they wouldn't notice me. The two toon-fronted Borises weren't as wise- they went right up and tried to greet them. The two men took a while to get those two locked up, and I snuck into a cage and closed its door while they were distracted. Thankfully, they didn't notice that my cage was unlocked. They rounded up all the other toons and put them away, and then left.

Sammy was in the cage directly across from mine. I didn't really know what to say to him. What do you say when a person betrays you, then ends up right back in your situation? I started with, "what happened to you?" in a neutral tone.

"It’s... hard to explain. You see, me and Joey worship a demon. That demon wants me in this form, and I am in no place to object. Though, I do hope my lord will set me free soon- both from this body and from this cage."

"Your... lord...?"

"The ink demon, Bendy. He will set us free, Alice. He will set us free."

I felt the demon in me echoing his words. "Did... Joey tell you that...?"

"Yes. Words of comfort. After the ink began to take effect. You work differently, I assume, since you're a sacrifice. But my lord is very powerful. I imagine that there's hope for you, too. Can you forgive me, Susie? And come join me in prayer so that we might summon him?"

"No. No, thank you."

I left my cage after that. I don't know if I feel vindicated by this or not. To be honest it's strange- even though he's talking nonsense, it still seems like Sammy to me, if you know what I mean. Well, I ended up talking to him again, that evening, about things other than religion. Of course I'm still angry at him, but there's no sense in making enemies with someone you're trapped with.

Day 81 since I last lost count,

I don't really know how to describe what happened today. In less than a single second, it seemed like texture just went out of the world. I rarely talk to Sammy these days since he can't seem to talk about anything but his lord, and him talking about his lord seems to give the demon some sort of stregnth, but I did today because I thought he might know what was going on. He didn't have a clue.

Day 95 since I last lost count,

It's been two weeks since our vision changed, or whatever it is that happened. No one has come to visit us. It would be strange if GENT (or whatever company thereafter) had gone without bringing anyone new for this long, or if Joey had gone this long without experimenting on us, but the fact that both stopped at once really makes me think that something is afoot.

Also, my demon is back, and it's trying to convince me that something very dangerous has happened and that I need to give it control so that it can keep me safe. When it first started talking, it made sense, but now it's spewing all kinds of nonsense about Joey Drew shoving us into a pocket dimension and a very powerful Bendy ink creature with no presence other than a demon's having escaped. It's just pathetic at this point and I wish it would stop.

---

While Alice lay helpless in her own prison, Bendy was escaping his own.

Bendy had spent over a month, maybe two or three, locked into a giant machine designed to keep him captive, built by a company even less scrupulous than GENT. He had been chained so tightly to the walls that he could barely move. These had been annoying, but he'd managed to escape them in a matter of days. The chamber he'd been put in, he'd determined, was large and circular. The walls were too thick to simply walk through, so he'd begun scratching and tearing at them, day and night. Those walls had been a full inch of steel, then a full inch of ink, then a full inch of steel. Amazing how foolish these people were, thinking that corruptive ink would slow him down. He was corruption. There was nothing that ink could possibly steal from his body or mind. After weeks of work, he'd finally broken a hole in that first layer of steel. The next step towards his escape was to allow that ink to suck him in, and travel through it to find an opening. The ink demon lost more time than he cared to admit on that before finally realizing that his containment chamber was entirely airtight. He'd have to spend another several weeks breaking a hole in that second layer of steel if he ever wanted out, this time working through that first layer, and through the layer of tar-like ink. Finally, he made it, squeezing his body out of a hole the size of a pinprick.

There was a final, laughable "barrier" between him and freedom- a river made of ink. It might have stopped any other ink creature, but for him it was not even an obstacle. He walked over it like a God walking on water.

While Bendy didn't get weak from hunger, he did feel hungry- so very hungry. And he could hear the faint shuffling of a number of souls, all resting in one place very nearby.

#Bendy and the Ink Machine #susie campbell #malice #sammy lawrence #joey drew #Thomas Connor #Early Ink Hell #my fanfiction

[loverscreation]

4- FIRST CHRISTMAS

YOOOO This took so long! For that I'm sorry, but know I have a lot of stuff on the way and it's going to be nonstop until November! Hope you enjoy <3

I paused before the double doors to gather my nervous thoughts. Hello, Dolly! aside, this was our first proper reunion since we started going steady. And it was Christmas night. The thoughts of gift exchanging was put out of the picture early as I had no money to afford gifts to share in return, though I still feared the idea of rule breakers to grow my guilt. 

A breeze rolled by, causing me to tighten the coat around my form with my free hand. The other hand held a plate of promised peanut butter cookies. With every added second spent out here I risked freezing. the air back home on the west coast could not bite this hard.

I knocked on one of the doors and waited for a good few seconds before someone opened it. Standing before me was Sister Imperator. 

“Hi! I'm Alys, I was invited over by The Second,” I informed her with a kind smile. No matter how hard I tried to stand still, I resembled a Chihuahua with how heavily I was shivering.

Imperator moved aside to let me in the delightful warmth. “Come in, come in! You must be freezing, you poor thing.” 

A weak chuckle left my lips as I entered the church, immediately being soothed by the temperature “Thank you, Sister. It's nice to meet you!” Creating a gap in the plastic wrap protecting the plate, I offered her a cookie. There was one for everyone.

After shutting the door, she took the treat and gave me a gracious nod in return. “It's nice to meet you as well, I've heard many good things about you.” I looked away shyly and hooked a piece of hair behind my ears. 

“He should be in his study just down the hall. It's the fourth door on the left,” she instructed. A naturally shaking finger pointed me down a rather dark hallway with blue tinted lights hung along the walls. Festive touch aside, there was no way the place wasn't haunted.

My stomach twisted about in excitement. “Again, thank you. I'm sure I'll see you again tonight?” She gave me a nod of confirmation before sending me on my way. 

With my destination in front of me, I let out a deep breath to calm myself and tapped upon the door.

“Come in,” his voice came through. 

Doing as instructed, I entered with a large grin and shut the door behind me. “Merry Christmas! I brought cookies if you’d like one?” 

He slid his chair out and patted his lap. “Come here, darling.” 

Without hesitation, I practically skipped to him. His legs supported my weight nicely and his arm hooking around my waist added extra comfort. A treat was snagged from the plate, followed by a hum of approval. 

“An excellent baker. Is there anything you cannot do?” 

My eyes rolled so hard I feared they may fall out of my head. “You flirt,” I snorted. 

No doubt my reaction was considered success to him. “So tell me, how was your family dinner? If I am not mistaken, you were dreading it.” He gave me an expectant look, showing me he was willing to listen to whatever I may have to say about the matter. 

“It sucked, like always. The political comments mixed with being the only one without their partner there made me want to leave so badly.” A nervous chuckle escaped me as I raised my eyebrows. 

A hum of disapproval reverberated from The Second. “Let Papa make it all better. You once told me you wished to sit by my fireplace in my arms, yes?” There was not a single complaint from me, only a smile. He remembered. “Let it be reality. I will stoke the fire, you pick out a blanket. And would you please dim the lights for me while you are at it, darling?”

I shot up for his lap and he soon stood with considerably less energy. A few blankets rested on his bed, making a good selection to choose from. In the end, I picked the black throw blanket. The fluffy texture won me over. 

Before anything, I knew I had to make myself comfortable. Shedding my jacket and shoes, I placed them by the door. The blanket took the entire span of my hold as I carried it to the chaise lounge directly across from the fireplace. 

He peeked over his shoulder. “Ah, an excellent choice,” he commented. I giggled and spread the cover over the elongated chair. 

A moment later, the satanic figure joined me. He took the spot closest to the armrest, legs spread out on the seat. Once comfortable, he opened his arms in my direction. 

Though my shy nature was no secret, I tried not to hesitate while I crawled up his legs. My body lowered onto his and I nuzzled my face into the crook of his neck. The smell of his aftershave hit my senses in calming waves.

A large hand gently rubbed my back, smoothing away the remaining tension of my muscles. If only every day was this peaceful.

“I am glad you made it,” he whispered into my hair. Just the statement alone unleashed shivers through my being. Words of appreciation were spread thin in my circle these days, but he never fell short of filling the gaps. 

My lips curled into a smile and parted, emitting a relaxed sigh. “There is no way I’d miss an evening with you.” 

His free hand curled under my chin, lifting my face back into view. Only an inch stood between us. With a racing heart, I tried to recall any other time our lips had been so close. My memory came up empty. 

“Dinner is ready,” called the muffled voice of Sister Imperator. 

The Second frowned deeply. “We will be right there, Sister.” He removed his hand from my chin. “Up you go.”

I obediently followed his words, reluctantly pulling myself from his warm embrace. To keep myself from awkwardly shifting, I strolled to his desk to retrieve my cookies. 

The two of us joined the family in the dining room. A rather long table with a feast placed upon it awaited our arrival. I gaped at the sight, frozen in the doorway. No restaurant could even touch tonight’s menu- and to think I only brought a small plate of sweets.

The Third cleared his throat rather dramatically to gain my attention. That smirk wreaked of mischief.

“What did you do?” The question was out of my mouth before I could stop it. 

“Well, dear Alys, look above you and find out.” He twirled a gloved index finger, the tip landing to point upwards at the end of the loop.

Dark green leaves that came to multiple points, accompanied by fake red berries. It was tied to a hook by a matching red bow.

Heat ran to my face and I gazed at The Third with helpless eyes. “You didn’t...”

“Oh, but I did. Now onto tradition!” His hand gave us a hurrying motion before he crossed his arms over his chest.

My hazel eyes of shock snapped to my lover. For once, displeasure didn’t plague his features at his brother’s antics. He wanted this. The thought of him wanting to kiss me was something I couldn’t fathom, but the truth couldn’t be mistaken.

He took the lead, resting a hand on my lower back and urging me closer. In no way would I resist. Only an inch separated us and I lifted onto my tiptoes to help close the height gap. He leaned forward.

His mustache tickled my skin as his soft lips captured mine. With my eyes fluttering closed, I cupped his cheeks and he held my waist. The kiss ended too quickly for my liking, but his family shouldn’t witness any more than they had already.

I snickered nervously as we parted. Never had I thought our first kiss would happen like this, but who was I to complain? Smiles seemed to be shared by everyone present, but The Third looked all too smug with himself. The youngest brother turned to us with a flourished swing of his arms, spreading his wingspan in his proud moment. His victory came in a heavily cocky silence.

The moment broke as I stepped away from the doorway, settling at the table with the rest of the family. On my right sat my sweetheart, and his father to my left. Sister Imperator worked at making sure everyone had been served to their liking.

However, my focus didn’t concentrate on the food. “This may be a weird question, but why do you celebrate Christmas like this?” I gained their eyes. “I mean, this is the Christian adaptation of the holiday.”

“Mockery more than anything,” spoke the ever quiet eldest brother. “As I assume you know, Christmas came from the origin of the winter solstice- A pagan ritual.” I nodded. “We do put our twists to it, taking the commercialized holiday from the captures themselves.”

I softly snickered into my hand. “You’re outdoing Christians at their own game. I love that!”

“This does raise the question, however. What is it that you believe in?” This question was due to come up at some point, considering I decided to see a satanic pope in a widely Christian country. 

“I consider myself spiritual more than religious,” I answered simply. “Whatever higher power is out there or what happens when you die is beyond me, but I do believe in what I’ve seen. Things like spirits and energy.”

The First took a liking to this answer. His gaze stopped shifting between his food and I, his piercing stare giving itself to me fully. “And do you have a spiritual practice?”

The response delayed this time, embarrassment flooding my cheeks. “Sort of, but it’s not solid. I mostly do research out of interest, and my family and I do what we can to protect ourselves.”

“Hm. A more neutral approach, then. Perhaps- if you get curious- I could teach you a thing or two from my own practice.” Was that the start of a smile I saw? “There is no better method of research than to learn from the source itself.”

This offer baffled me. "I would love to do that! Thank you!" 

The table went silent for a moment, though not in any sort of discomfort. Mouths were being filled with delicious food, relaxation being shared through the air. Small bouts of conversation sprouted up and died down naturally. 

While I mostly kept to myself and stuck to listening, a hand snuck onto my thigh. I looked beside me to my Papa. His eyes were already on me. 

"Are you enjoying yourself?" I nodded. "What is your opinion of my family, now that you've gotten to see them for what they are?" 

I looked around at every member of the table before gazing at him once more. "I like them. They make me feel right at home, and they seem to like me, I think." 

The hint of a smile traced his lips. "It pleases me to hear this." 

A smile of my own formed and I put a hand on top of his own. 

Once the meal drew to a close, most of the men took off to pull out presents. However, I stayed behind with Sister Imperator and The First to clean up. 

"Such a doll," commented the Sister, "no wonder you've been the new family buzz." 

I blushed as I made my way to the sink with her. "You all are way too nice to me, I swear!" 

She shook her head like a mother would. "Nonsense! You're something special for The Second to hold onto you, you know."  

The First handed me dishes to clean and I did so as efficiently as I could. They were handed off to Imperator to dry and tuck away. While I enjoyed helping, the magic of Christmas lies in the company by the tree. 

"What's it like to live here?" I shifted my attention between the dishes and Imperator. 

She hummed a bit. "It depends on the church. You see, The Second is the only one that truly lives in this church. Our family is scattered." 

"How so?" 

"Papa Nihil, The First, and I run the home church in Italy. The Second, here in New York. And The Third in England." While she said it factually, no thrill coated her tone. 

My eyebrows knitted together softly. "Must be hard." 

"It's quite alright, dear. Such is the life of the busy," she responded softly. 

Before we knew it, the sinks were empty. Imperator rested a cold hand on my lower back and led me out with The First. 

Across the way in the recreational space sat a glorious tree with many gifts underneath, all wrapped with care. I took my usual spot by my partner and he gazed down at me with soft eyes. I returned the silently given love before turning my fixation to the activities. 

"Mine first-" announced the youngest brother as he shot up from the couch. He all but bounced to the tree and a number of gifts were passed about. 

However, his head dropped a bit and he shuffled my way. I raised my eyebrow as he smiled sheepishly. "I know you said you didn't want any gifts, but these called your name." 

The box was handing off to me. It wasn't too large, though with a bit of weight, and the wrapping was a beautiful muted red pattern. I tilted my head in curiosity. I ripped away at the paper and he lifted the top. 

Three different types of polished crystals lay on their padding, identification cards on top of them. Amethyst, black tourmaline, and rose quartz. "Holy shit," I breathed and reached in. 

My fingers traced over the smooth textures. A hot tingling pricked my nose, though I wouldn't let tears form when I looked up at him. "Thank you so much, I-" I shook my head a bit "-I don't know what to say." 

The Third's grin returned, his arm pulling me into his side for a hug of gratitude after I set the box down. "I am glad you like them, however, I must take my leave. The lady awaits!" 

Hs partner was mentioned in my text conversations with The Second. Jehanna, a fellow sister taking a holiday vacation with her Papa. I've heard many good things about their relationship.

"Tell her I said hi," I beamed. With a nod and farwell, he was out the door in the blink of an eye. He must be excited. 

A large hand caressed my lower back. "I could not resist," murmured The Second. He held a small container in front of me. 

With a glance of hesitancy thrown his way, I took it. Whatever he could think to get me was lost on my mind. 

I opened the container to see a ring. No, not one for engagement, but a gorgeous emerald accessory. My heart almost stopped. 

"Babe," I called out softly, "you shouldn't have-" A tight hug was shared between us. 

He whispered in my ear. "Now you have a piece of me whenever we part."

He pulled it from its enclosure and cradled my right hand. He slid it onto my index finger for a perfect fit. 

A smile traced my lips. "It's beautiful. Thank you." Now that it's been done before, I lifted onto my tip toes and pecked his lips. 

That brought a smile to his face, though he was quick to move on.

Thoughtful items and thanks were passed about. As much as I wanted to stay around and bask in the good company, I knew I had to return to the hotel room The Second rented out for me. My flight back to Oregon would take off early that morning.

My hand slid into The Second's hand, the other one rested on top. Turning his head, he gave me his attention.

"It's getting late," my voice trailed off.

A moment passed before he looked away and nodded. "Let us get a driver ready for you."

The two of us searched the place, soon finding a sister on duty for driving. I stood before the door, turning back to him.

"Thank you, for everything. You've all given me the best night I could ask for."

We shared another kiss, this one more meaningful. Slowly, we parted, yet our faces remained an inch apart. Our eyes locked. I missed him already. The look in his eyes assured me he thought the same.

He pecked my lips before straightened himself back up. "Be safe, and message me when you arrive.

I nodded and hurried to the car.

#oct 21 2018 #stories #f/o #self ship