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gumnut-logic · 3 years

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Mosaic Beach

It has taken me since Thursday morning (it is now Saturday night) to write this goes-nowhere-piece-of-fluff. I had a low level migraine Wednesday night and felt awful Thursday morning, so the first 850 odd words are me visualising being in a better place other than outside my daughter’s school. Then Scott had something to say and promptly ate my fic. But then at least he was thinking about Virgil.

Also, Gordon is evil.

As always, many thanks to @tsarinatorment @scribbles97 and @janetm74 for the read throughs and support. You guys are amazing to me :D

I hope you enjoy this totally lazy fic ::hugs you all::

-o-o-o-

It was a lazy day.

Virgil suspected John, who had been kicked off Five the day before, had Eos routing all but the most dire situations to local authorities whether Scott authorised it or not.

There were days where Virgil wondered if Scott was really in charge, since John had so much ultimate say.

But that thought was for another day. He was tired and it was likely going to be a day off - please let it be a day off - and he was going to find a corner of the Island to sit alone and scribble in his sketchbook.

He ended up on Mosaic Beach, a personal favourite on the edge of the caldera. Gordon had mentioned it the day before regarding the quality of flotsam available after the last storm and Virgil thought he would see what he could find.

It was overshadowed by an ancient pokey tree brilliant in red blossom and the sand here was a mass of black and white swirls as the coral detritus fought the eroded igneous rocks – the reason they had given it its name. Gordon was right - there was all sorts of things tossed up the sand and Virgil spent the first half hour wandering along the strip of sea wrack picking up shells and whatever caught his eye.

One of the shells appeared determined to return to the ocean and it was with a small smile that he picked up the tiny hermit crab and watched it curl up into its shell.

Holding it gently in his palm, he sought the shade of the giant tree and sat down on the sand in its shadow. Here the breeze was gentle, the sand cool and, leaning back against a rock, he set the little crab down on a smooth patch of sand, along with his small hoard of shells and let it scamper across the little landscape that resulted.

Sketchbook out, he spent the next few minutes sketching the crab madly as it moved about. It shifted angle at random and he found himself increasingly switching from real life to a character sketch. A little personality sprouted from the page that reflected the little crab’s determination.

Ever aware of the crab’s needs above his own, he sketched fast, took a few photos and then gathered the little creature in his hands once more. He trotted down to the rock pools at the edge of the beach and found a spot he felt the crab would be happy.

Crouching down, he watched it scamper into the water.

His lips curved into a smile.

Gordon would know what species it was, where it lived and how to best care for it. Virgil was pretty sure he knew what type it was. Mel was pedantic about crabs and had given them a list of ‘these are endangered, tell me if you see them, kill one and I will kill you’. Fortunately or unfortunately, it wasn’t a long list, so Virgil had memorised it. This little guy...he should be happy here.

The crab found some weed and promptly hid under it.

The rockpool drew Virgil’s eye a little longer before he finally stood up and let the breeze cool his face. A sigh at the sun’s warmth and he wandered back to the shadow of the pokey tree and sat down again.

The little crab stared up at him from his sketchbook, spritely and determined.

Kind of like Gordon really, despite the claws.

That prompted a smile at the thought of his fish brother’s reaction to being compared to a crab.

He would squawk, but he would love it.

Virgil returned to sketching the shells and bits of coral he had collected. Rearranging them, repositioning for lighting. He picked one up and stared at the colours created by a little mollusc. He was ever amazed at what Mother Nature was capable of. Simple geometrics and chemical formulae made one of the world’s strongest and most beautiful substances in nacre. Another broken shell showed the rainbow of colour that he knew his paintbrush would never quite be able to capture, much less the pencil and stick of carbon he had with him today. He was left with a little snapshot from his phone...which was never quite the same either...and what his memory could provide.

Perhaps it was nature’s way of ensuring it was always the most beautiful.

He shifted to scribbling down the beachscape after that. It wasn’t the first time he had drawn this beach, but as with all beaches, it was different every day as the tide sculpted it.

His fingers grew more and more lazy, his lines wandering through more emotion than reality as the day drifted on. At some point, he ate the sandwich he had packed, quite happy to not care what time of day it was and refusing to look at his watch.

Eventually the sketchbook was set aside and he let himself just stare out at the ocean lagoon, eyes tracking the movement of the distant waves and the laps of the ripples against the shore.

And nature’s rhythms lulled him to sleep.

-o-o-o-

“Hey, big bro, you might want to drop by Mosaic Beach before the tide comes in.” Gordon waltzed past the desk Scott was sitting at with a smirk on his face.

“What?” Scott’s brain was still stuck in working out what the hell Simmonds meant by the ‘urgent memo’ that had interrupted his afternoon off.

“The snoring is scaring away all the wildlife.” With that Gordon grabbed a book off the shelf on the far side of the room and backtracked out the way he had come in...without another word.

Scott was left staring where his brother had been.

But then Gordon was worth ignoring some times.

He turned back to his display and continued to try and work out why Simmonds had ordered sixty plastic flamingoes and then memo’d him about it in a panic.

It took him a good few minutes more before throwing it back at Simmonds’ supervisor in Japan with a ‘concerned’ note.

What did Tracy Industries need with sixty plastic flamingoes?

He shook his head and forced himself to stand up and not invest any more in any comms from the business. Today was hopefully his day off and he refused to fall into the trap of losing himself in all the things that required attention.

All the things.

He paused mid rise.

But no. No! Vacation day. He forced himself away from the desk and out onto the balcony.

It was a beautiful out here. The afternoon sun was blazing in a brilliant blue sky without a single cloud. The sea was murmuring far below. It was an artist’s dream.

He blinked as certain Gordon utterings connected neurons together.

A frown. “Gordon!”

No answer.

Another frown and he strode back inside, following the recent tracks of his fish brother down to the kitchen.

Scott found him reading at the table, a phone that was most definitely not his in one hand and the book in his other.

There were lots of photos of crabs.

“What are you doing?”

“Confirming the identification of a crab.”

“Why?”

“Virg found one down on Mosaic Beach and I wanna make sure it is what I think it was so I can report it to Mel.”

The dots that had been connecting earlier fused into a solid line with an arrow pointing directly at Gordon. “And where is Virgil?”

“Snoozing on the beach.”

“And why do you have his phone?”

“Because his drawings were excellent, but I needed a colour shot.”

“Gordon!”

His brother didn’t even look up. “What?” But then he blinked and frowned at Scott. “He’s fine. Well above the high tide line.” A glance down at the book again. “There, that’s it. Oooh, Mel is going to be so excited.”

Scott glared at Gordon for a whole second longer before storming over and snatching the phone out of his hands. Without another word, he strode out of the kitchen and took the path that would lead him down to the reported beach.

Younger brothers were hard work.

The little beach wasn’t the closest on the Island. Probably one of the reasons Virgil chose it to get away from pesky younger brothers. Trust Gordon to find him anyway.

He fingered Virgil’s phone in his hand as he walked. The green leather case was embossed with an elaborate dragon design.

Looking at it, all he could really feel was fondness.

He must be tired. Grandma was right. He needed a day off.

Easier said than done. It wasn’t like he could park himself on a beach and fall asleep.

He grunted as he stepped over some rocks to start the climb down to the little cove. The path was thin and wove amongst several pōhutukawa trees – or pokey trees as Alan called them, their dark green leaves adorned with puffs of red blossom. Birds darted between them squawking at each other. That combined with the surf in the distance and the breeze rattling palm trees, it wasn’t the quietest of places.

Nevertheless, he found his brother sprawled against a rock under the largest pokey tree at the edge of the beach, snoring his head off.

Definitely noisy.

Virgil was dressed in an old pair of work shorts and a t-shirt with a hole in it. Both sported spatters of paint and clearly showed how relaxed his brother was trying to be.

Beside him on a rock, carefully placed, no doubt by Gordon, the brat, was a sketchbook and a box of drawing tools. Virgil’s artist backpack lay folded up supporting his head - again likely Gordon.

Virgil snorted and curled up just a little more against the rock.

Gordon was a shit, but he was a kind one. Virgil slept like the dead and would likely need one of those waves off in the distance to wash over him if he was going to wake up before he wanted to.

Staring a moment longer, Scott sighed, gave up and sat down beside his brother. He dropped the phone onto the sketchbook and looked out at the beach.

Virgil continued to snore.

His biggest little brother had always snored. Scott had cornered him and got him tested for a variety of sleep issues, but he was fine. Just loud.

The terrible two used to make a point of pointing it out as much as possible. But that was before the hydrofoil accident.

Gordon didn’t know it, but due to his injuries, he now snored, too.

The ribbing about snoring in the Tracy household had dropped to a minimum since, Gordon the only unknowing ribber.

But Virgil remained the major noise maker and the brothers worshipped the soundproofing in the villa.

Regardless of the racket, Scott did find it strangely quiet out here. Sitting on the sand with nothing to do was oddly relaxing. Of course, he wasn’t really one to do nothing and Virgil’s sketchbook was right there. Gordon had obviously already stuck his nose into it and Scott was pretty sure Virgil wouldn’t mind if he took a peek.

Would he?

Lifting the phone off the book, Scott carefully picked it up and nestled it in his lap...ever, ever so careful. Okay, so he had some respect and not a little fear of damaging Virgil’s artwork.

The pages were thick and stiff and likely designed to support wet media as much as dry. Most of the work in it was pencil, however, maybe some charcoal? The darks were so deep in some that they had to be.

But Scott was no artist and really only had eyes for the content.

The first page found him looking at himself. Virgil had obviously either captured Scott’s likeness on the sly or drawn from a photo or holoprojection. His drawing stared up at him in almost all three dimensions. The expression on his graphite face was thoughtful, almost wistful. He could see his rendered self was thinking or planning and totally distracted...which was likely why he had no clue his brother had captured this shot.

But the artistic strokes were strong and sure, simple in their complexity.

Scott blinked, moved that his brother was so talented and capable.

Though he really shouldn’t be surprised.

Turning the page, he discovered their grandmother.

He had to smile. The concentration on Grandma’s face was almost comical. A bowl and a recipe book sat in front of her and the very tip of her tongue stuck out of the side of her mouth as she frowned at whatever she was reading.

There was a touch of caricature in the drawing, a little exaggeration, but done with love and fondness, not mockingly. His grandmother was beautiful.

Scott swallowed and turned the page to find several detailed scribbles. They looked like pieces of machinery and the pages had notes written down the sides.

It was a spark moment. He knew Virgil well enough for that. One of those times when his thoughts all came together and saw him running naked out of the shower to grab whatever he could find and get it written down.

Several major equipment improvements had occurred exactly this way. It appeared that at some point, this sketchbook had been the nearest note book and had borne the brunt.

He stared at the diagrams, doing his best to work out exactly what they were. Sharp notation, numbers, that had to be the backend of a pod. It clicked. This was part of the pod assembly redesign from the previous year. Virgil had come to him with some major improvements, including a pod body redesign. What followed had been a massive overhaul of all the ‘birds’ assembly systems and a whole new set up, including colour changes according to which Thunderbird housed which pod. Virgil and Brains had been buzzing for weeks.

And it was possible it had all started here on this piece of paper. Now he could see the scribbled down inner workings of the assembly mechanism and the shape on the second page was a worked and reworked pod shell.

He glanced over at his brother who was still snoring peacefully. Virgil was amazing. Scott could not have been prouder of what his little brother had achieved. Yet Virgil never really boasted or bragged or even highlighted what he had done. He was just there. Always there, one step behind him ready to help.

He must be really tired because now he was getting emotional. There had been a few times in the last couple of years where he had come close to losing Virgil. He hadn’t, but there had been nightmares and many a night where he had spent reassuring himself that his biggest brother was still with him.

And yes, he could stand outside his brother’s bedroom door and listen to him snore.

It gave him comfort.

Gordon had caught him once.

That had been a heartbreaking moment.

Because his fish brother hadn’t said a thing, just reached up, squeezed his shoulder, dropped his forehead against Scott’s arm and just stood there for a solid moment. Another gentle squeeze and he left, not even looking up at Scott before he was gone.

It said more than any words.

Scott sighed and turned the page...only to come face to face with Gordon again. Though this time the joy in their fish brother’s eyes was lighting up the page. He was grinning at a shell and there was a speech bubble - ‘Virgil, come and see this!’

Scott had to smile. Gordon was notorious for sharing his beach discoveries. Virgil was usually the target because at least he knew a little bit about their little brother’s fascinations. Scott loved to see Gordon happy, but honestly, he couldn’t tell the difference between one shell or another. He tried. He honestly did, but Virgil had the patience of a saint and was much more engaging.

Scott loved to watch the two of them instead.

And yes, he saw Virgil sneak things into his pockets. Usually shells, but occasionally rocks and bits of coral. Those finds made their way back to Virgil’s studio and there was a whole corner devoted to marine still life.

Which was why it was no surprise when the next three pages of sketchbook turned out to be exactly that. A curly shell, a pile of cockle shells - Scott knew those at least - they were good for fishing. The third page had a plan for a reef painting. It had scribbled notes, much like the pod redesign pages, but this was based around a sketched layout. Scott frowned at it...it was vaguely familiar. He would have to ask Virgil about it when he woke.

The next two pages sported today’s efforts. The same beach he was sitting on emerged from the paper, along with some sketches of a crab. The first few were realistic, but the last one had the little hermit crab with an IR symbol on its side and one of Dad’s old uniform hats perched on top of its shell. It bore a sash that resembled Virgil’s despite the lack of green colour and one of its claws was bigger than the other in a very exo-suit-like way.

That had Scott grinning. This was no doubt the reason why Gordon had run for the crab book. Mel, in her position of Director of the Kermadec Expedition south of them on Raoul Island, was very particular about the endemic crabs on all the islands in the area.

He wondered what she would think of them inducting crabs into IR.

He wondered what she was doing today and if she might be available later for a nice evening together.

That thought was very distracting and had nothing to do with crab identification at all.

Virgil snorted, rolled over off his backpack and face first into the sand.

Scott startled, fully expecting a woken bear of a brother to surface from that.

But Virgil just kept snoring, now snorting sand as well.

He placed the sketchbook down, scrambled around his brother and gently shoved the folded backpack under his head again.

His fingertips brushed sand off Virgil’s face.

And he found himself sitting beside his brother again.

Why was he out here?

Because Gordon was evil and dangled the concept of Virgil drowning in the tide simply to aggravate him enough to do exactly what he did.

Gordon was a shit.

But a good one.

Another sigh and he lay back against the rocks and got comfortable, because, let’s face it, he wasn’t going back up to the villa without Virgil. His brother was safe, sure, but walking off and leaving him to the elements ran against his grain.

And Gordon knew it.

He would throttle, and possibly hug, his fish brother later.

Besides, it was nice out here, taking a moment to just be.

Virgil would approve.

Virgil would fake being asleep just to get him to do it.

Scott’s eyes darted to his now softly snoring brother, a sudden suspicion at the forefront of his thoughts. He would put it past either of Virgil or Gordon’s conniving ways to conspire to get him out here.

Virgil was drooling a wet patch onto his backpack.

Ugh.

Well, maybe not.

Perhaps he was just being paranoid.

Perhaps he just needed to relax.

Relax.

He closed his eyes and folded his hands in his lap. Kayo was good at meditation. So was Gordon. Virgil did some connecting with nature thing that seemed to work for him.

Exhibit A snorted as if in agreement.

He could try.

Out of all the sounds he could hear, only one really held his attention.

That same soft snoring. No waves or wind or birds squawking brought him any kind of comfort.

The sound of his brother breathing evenly beside him, safe and sound, was the most beautiful sound in the world.

What that said about him...well, he didn’t care right now. He was tired and worn out. Maybe Gordon was right. Maybe this is what he needed. He should care, should be annoyed, but the rhythm was lulling and, god, he was so tired.

So goddamned tired.

Virgil kept breathing and Scott followed him into sleep.

-o-o-o-

Hidden in the foliage of the grove of pokey trees behind his two brothers, Gordon just smiled.

-o-o-o-

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #Virgil Tracy #Scott Tracy #Gordon Tracy

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mischiefandi · 3 years

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Musical Monday - 15.02.21

-> @siriusly-harry asked: Harry styles fine line & Harry Potter :) <3

Tastes like strawberries On a summer evenin' And it sounds just like a song I want more berries And that summer feelin' It's so wonderful and warm

Some of Harry’s best memories are from summer afternoons spent at the Burrow. Part of the reason why is because he’s been welcomed in a loud but loving household, giving him a sense of family he’d never felt before those summer afternoons. The other reason is Ginny. She’s so cool, and thrilling. She’s the sun setting, leaving behind a trail of pink and orange. She’s the smell of fresh lemonade and grass. She emits a brilliant warmth and he can’t get enough of it.

I don't wanna be alone When it ends Don't wanna let you know I don't wanna be alone But I, I can feel it take a hold

Ron has always loved Hermione, just like she’s always loved him. However, it’s much easier to ignore the feeling rather than embrace it. Love is scary because when you care about something, it makes it that much harder to lose. It takes a lot of time and many battles, but Ron finally ends up understanding that that fear is precisely why he should go back to her. She’s a beacon of light guiding him, and he knows he can face anything if he’s by her side.

Walk in your rainbow paradise Strawberry lipstick state of mind I get so lost inside your eyes Would you believe it?

Luna is a dreamer. Life is filled with tiny little delights and noticing them is in her nature. She falls in love with every wondrous thing that crosses her path. She has the very rare talent of seeing something special in anything and everything. Luna is essentially exactly like the pink sunglasses she wears; you slip them on and everything comes in bursts of colour. Anyone would be blind not to see rainbows when catching the gleam in her eye.

Sunflowers Sometimes Keep it sweet in your memory I was just tongue-tied, I don't wanna make you feel bad But I've been trying hard not to talk to you Sunflower

Bravery is one of Neville’s best qualities. He’s fundamentally good and more than willing to prove himself in times of turmoil. He’s a fierce friend and a loyal protector. Because he is human, he also has his weaknesses, the biggest one being himself. He has so much love to give, but the fear of being rejected makes him retreat slowly when that special someone approaches him. He trips over his words, and loses all control, but it all comes from a place of insecurity. He knows it is brave to stand up for his loved ones, but he has yet to learn that sometimes it takes even more courage to stand up for yourself. He’s getting there.

Forget what I said It's not what I meant And I can't take it back I can't unpack the baggage you left. What am I now? What am I now? What if I'm someone I don't want around?

Love has made Cho suffer more than most, especially at such a young age. She’s in a constant state of inner conflict, like she’s at war with herself. She doesn’t know if her feelings are valid, or whether or not they make her a bad person. It’s not easy losing someone you love, but letting yourself move on is even harder. Cho has said things she regrets to the people she cares about, and she wonders if she’ll ever be able to take those words back. What she fails to realise is that she is strong enough to rebuild what’s been broken, and her grief doesn’t make her damaged or unworthy. She will find love again.

I was away And I'm just an arrogant son of a bitch Who can't admit when he's sorry. Don't call me baby again You got your reasons I know that you're tryna be friends

Fred is impulsive and his emotions often cloud his judgment. He’s passionate and cocky, he’s the definition of a playful smirk, but his pride gets in the way when he’s upset about something. It makes it very difficult for him to apologise to the people he cares about, even when he knows he’s in the wrong. However his qualities outweigh his flaws, and because he is a good person at heart, he knows when to give the other person space and time. Even though he's too proud to admit just yet, he’ll always be there.

Test of my patience There's things that we'll never know You sunshine, you temptress My hand's at risk, I fold. Crisp trepidation I'll try to shake this soon

George and Lee have always been mates, friends, companions, partners, but there’s always been something more, tucked away safely between bright red bed covers and tentative fingers. It’s a rare feeling, hiding in plain sight, but it makes the lines blur and spill into a pool of uncertainty. What these young lovers have yet to learn is that affection as pure as the one they share deserves to grow out in the open. It isn’t wrong, thus it shouldn’t have to be treated like a shameful little secret. Both boys deserve honesty and clarity, but more importantly, they both deserve happiness together.

He takes a boat out Imagines just sailing away And not telling his mates He wouldn't know what to say. She She lives in daydreams with me She's the first one that I see

Draco is searching for something. He’s always felt lost, drifting in his family’s direction because that seems like the easiest way to go. As he grows, he starts to realise that this way might seem easier, but it isn’t in the slightest. He dreams of something better, another path he could choose, where he would eventually meet someone who sees him for the man he wants to be. In order for that to happen, he needs to let go of his family’s expectations, and he needs to work on himself. He needs to repair the damage he has caused, and find it in within himself to become a better man. No one can do that for him.

A/N: this was a more Love oriented version of Musical Monday but hopefully you like it! <3 I probably will focus more on matching one specific character to one song next time, but because the theme was love, i couldn’t not mention ships haha. I know George x Lee may seem super random but i read it somewhere once and now they’re canon in my head! Hope u guys enjoyed this Musical Monday, I had a lot of fun working on this! thank you @siriusly-harry for your request, i've added your other one to the list !

tagging everyone in my taglist and mutuals for today but i won’t do it next time so pls make sure to add yourself to the taglist if u want to be tagged next time!!

@stiles-o-dylan24 @duskholland @mersuperwholocked-lowlife@r0s3mm @redstringlovers @captainbuckyyy12 @soincredible@behind-my-hazeleyes27 @cheesecakes-randomshitz@traveleraroundsworld@alwaysforever73 @thelittlestkitsune@glaimtruelovealways@texaskitten30 @abitofeverythinggg @alwaysforever73@hcomet28 @thegirlwhoimagined @cherriesanwine@decaffeinated--fangirl @shutupstyless @x-give-em-hell-kid-x@teen--marvel @soincredible @behind-my-hazeleyes27@bibliophilewednesday @jazminebrightxx @cheesecakes-randomshitz @traveleraroundsworld@perrytheplatypus11 @stixnstripesworld @masterofbluff@drakewalker04 @superapplepie @apatheticanvas67482@theamazingtomholland @earthlyholland @siriusly-harry @solstilla@mrscutiefandobhaz @mrs-mitch-rapp93 @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @isaiahjesus ->

you won’t be tagged anymore unless you’ve added yourself to the Musical Monday taglist here <3

if you any requests, please don’t hesitate to send them in through my askbox! anon is always on, and i’d love to hear your requests! if you have any questions about the concept, be sure to check out this post. if you still have a question, you can def send me a dm or shoot me an ask :)

See you on Monday 01.03.21 (Ron Weasley’s birthday btw haha) at 8 pm CET (= UTC+1) / 7 pm GMT(= UTC) / 2 pm EST (= UTC-5) / 11 am PST (= UTC-8)

#musical monday #harry potter #ginny weasley #hermione granger #ronald weasley #fred weasley #george weasley #lee jordan #luna lovegood #neville longbottom #draco malfoy #hp #v writes

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sunriseallium · 3 years

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Rapid

Summary: This was a vent fic so the beginning is just me putting my issues into DSMP character Wilbur. Ended up being a cool fic in the end though so pog

Cross posted on AO3 @ paperrcliip and Wattpad @ paperrcliip

TW: swearing, small mentions of blood/injury, panic attacks, slight paranoia, character death

Word count: 7507

Wilbur had always hated noise.

The squeaks in doors were too loud and the crumpling of a chip bag made in uneasy and panicked. All the sound was unnecessary. It could be panic enduring for some as well.

It's okay, stay calm, Wilbur thought to himself. He had asked Phil if he could have a snack , he was allowed to. Nothing he was doing was bad or deceitful. No one will get mad.

What if they do though, the little nagging voice in the back of Wilburs head thought. The fox hybrid didn't want to think of that though. It would be easier to ignore the voice. The little constant negativity and anxiety in the back of his head. If he ignored it it would leave him alone, even if just for a little while.

Techno once said that trying to ignore or forget about something made it more constant to think about. It pops up in your head more because you're actively trying not to think about it. Distractions worked best. Food was a good distraction it's why he had asked Philza if he could grab a snack (he never knew if they were going to have dinner soon and he didn't want to make anyone mad by eating and then not being hungry for dinner). That reminded him, Phil told him that humans are relaxed after eating. Being full makes your body sleepy.

Wilbur memorized a short list of foods that calm anxiety. There was salmon but Wilbur hated the texture of it. There was also chamomile because it was a relaxing herb, green tea, yogurt and dark chocolate. Wilbur liked chocolate, it had a bit of caffeine as well which would keep him awake. The chocolate was in the pantry and Wilbur knew since he didn't eat the rest of the dark chocolate it was still there. No one else liked it enough to eat it.

He just needed to stay calm. Everything he was doing was allowed, people had allowed him to do this. He had no need to be quiet he could be as loud as he wanted if he so dearly wished. Tommy could come in and ask him what he was doing and Wilbur would be 100% honest. Techno could come in and question him and Wilbur wouldn't care. Phil could ask what all the noise was about, and Wilbur wouldn't care. Well maybe he would just a little bit. He didn't care that he was allowed too, he hated making too much noise.

It was still noisy though. Too noisy for Wilbur. Silence was sensitive, one wrong move and it shatters like glass. Wilbur loved and hated the silence. It was deafening ironically. It left him alone to his thoughts. Yet he loved the peace it brought. It could be calming or overwhelming, two opposite sides of a spectrum which was simply amazing. Silence could be two things at once. Breaking the silence when it naturally formed seemed like a crime. It could shatter peace with a simple creak or a whisper. Silence was scary like that.

The cupboard squeaked when the brunet opened it and he looked around to check if anyone was disturbed by the noise. It was only open a tad bit, just enough to see to contents inside of it but not enough to grab anything. He cursed internally at that and slowly closed it making sure it did not make another sound. A mental sig of relief, no one had heard or no one had cared. Wilbur walked over to the fridge avoiding the floor boards that creaked.

The fox hybrid memorized which ones creamed so he could easily avoid them. When he had to take walks at 4am because his head hurt and he needed to clear his head he needed a safe path to the door. He always oiled the hinges of the door when they were starting to get squeaky. The possibility of a robber breaking in and Wilbur and his family trying to get out but alerting the robber they were at the door because of a squeak was terrifying. Of corse the downside was if someone broke in through the door they wouldn't know because it was silent.

He opened the silver handle of the door slowly as the fridge illuminated itself. Nothing in it seemed appealing but he didn't want the trip to be for nothing. Banana's where on the counter, he remembered. Slowly closing the fridge door he went to step away, wincing when the floorboard under him creaked with the slight loss of weight. Panic set it. The brunet awkwardly kept his weight on the foot not on the squeaky floor board. He had to do this quietly or it would shatter the calmness of the house.

He stayed still. Not moving a muscle as he tried to figure out what to do. Wilbur was blanking, his brain was numb with panic and his logic wasn't working. Ideas came in sparse and quickly, only grazing his brain and giving him a mere moment to consider it before it floated away and Wilbur had no memory of it.

What should he do? step back on it? Maybe take the foot off quickly. Which option would minimize the amount of noise? Wilbur didn't know what to do, he knew his thought were spiralling and his breathing was speeding up. Hyperventilating would add to the sound, it would make everything worse.

Hold your breath, an idea came to mind. So he did. He slowly peeled his socked foot from the floorboard and trying not to panic more when it made a slight noise. His foot was off, the noise was gone he could breath again. Something wet fell down his cheek and he brought his hand up to while it away. When had he started crying? why was he even crying. This was a pathetic reason, he could never cry over serious things yet causing noise has this effect on him.

Emotions were fucked that way. Whenever things got so bad he couldn't be bothered to feel anything about the situation until months later. Then minor things occur and it ruins his day and mental health for the next week.

Wilbur wasn't hungry anymore. His shaking hands started to calm down as the brunet took a few deep breaths. He needed to calm down, he was getting worked up over nothing again. How he wishes he could say it's the first time this has happened, yet he couldn't. The panic over making noise happened too often yet no one had noticed, he made sure no one noticed. People would call him stupid for having an anxiety attack over something as little as this. Something so small shouldn't have this much of an effect on people, yet it did.

Wilbur guessed it would affect people differently by how they were raised. Before he had been adopted by Phil, the fox hybrid had stumbled through a nether portal and gotten lost. Noise was bad in the nether, if you made noise and got spotted you were basically dead meat. Piglins and hoglins as well as ghasts came for you, and if you were unlucky enough a wither skeleton may be near by as well. In the nether everything was against you and when you heard noises near you you should be scared. You always needed to be quiet and sneaky and have an escape plan on a moments notice.

The brunet was lucky, his ears picked up on noise very well. That also meant constant anxiety. He had no idea how far he could hear, he couldn't tell if the piglin was far away or just around the corner. Eventually Wilbur had found a hybrid. His name was Technoblade and they protected each other. Then soon after Phil had found them and took them home. Soon after Tommy was added to the family as well. Silence was a good thing, it meant no danger.

He was spiralling again. What helps reduce anxiety? Wilbur vaguely remembered people telling others to drink water. His throat was parched. Maybe water could help. It would perhaps steady his shaking hands and calm his mind. Even if it just slowed the thought down a bit Wilbur would be grateful. He could focus on one thing at a time instead of fleeting thoughts that left to make room for the new. He could take a breath and just think about one thing instead of trying to remember and focus on ten.

Wilbur opened the drawer for the cups slowly and sighed in relief when no noise was made. This drawer was safe. Things were looking up already, it had been a good idea to get water. The glass cup shook in his hand but the brunet tried not to focus on that, water was all he needed. Brain's and body's needed hydration to function properly, Wilbur remembered that from a health guide Phil got him a couple years ago.

At the time Wilbur didn't think it to be useful but Phil seemed happy to have found it for Wilbur so he read it. He read and memorized it to make Phil happy even though it was oh so boring.

Wilbur brought the cup to the tap and turned it on so water was almost barely coming out. It would be too loud otherwise and Wilbur didn't want to freak himself out more than he already had. The glass took a while for it to be half way full but that was all Wilbur needed, just a bit of water to get him back on track. He turned off the tap and brought the cup to his lips. The water was refreshing. It was cold and took his mind off of everything else even if just for a moment. That moment of peace was short lived however.

A crash came from upstairs and normally Wilbur would jump and check it out and everything would be sunshine and rainbows. This was different, he was already anxious and in a bad state of mind. The cup fell and shattered causing Wilbur to jump back in shock. He heard talking from where the crash was. Everything was too loud, he had made too much noise. Noise was danger. Noise was bad.

He had disturbed the silence and now he has to pay the price. Something bad was gonna happen, danger was going to come into the kitchen and kill him. he could imagine the footsteps of a wither skeleton walking towards him, the bones clanking together and the holes were the eyes should have been staring at him as the sword would be plunged though his body. The wither effect would take place and it would be a slow and painful death.

Wilbur had only been withered once and for a very short period of time. The skeleton had barely grazed him and his arm slowly turned pitch black for a couple minutes before returning to normal. It left him sick for the rest of the day but he was fine. He wouldn't be fine if the entire sword was through him.

Or maybe Phil, Techno or Tommy would come and scream at him. First for making too much noise then for freaking out over something so small. Perhaps he would be disowned and have to live outside. He should start packing bags now. Get ready for the rejection, get ready for being kicked out.

Why did it feel so warm in here? Why was his vision blurry, he couldn't focus on anything. It was like he was zoned out, trapped inside his own mind. His lungs felt like there were boulders on them. He couldn't get enough air in. Air was good, air was everywhere so why couldn't his lungs find it. They had one job and they couldn't do it properly. His wrist felt itchy. Make it stop. The itch wouldn't go away, why wouldn't it go away. Maybe he just needed to sit down for a minute. Wilbur sat on the ground, broken glass in front of him yet he hadn't noticed. Glass wasn't his concern. The stupid ice was, it wouldn't stop. The brunet just had to scratch it a little more, a little harder. the was something red in his finger nails. Or was there? His blurry vision, panicked brain and shaking hands didn't make it easy to tell.

Was it blood on his wrist? What caused that? Was it him- not it couldn't be him. Maybe it was the glass or what if there was an intruder. Did the intruder hurt him? The logical part of his brain said no, that there was no intruder but how could he be sure. With how much noise he made he wouldn't be able to tell anyways. It was all his fault. Everything was his fault because he couldn't deal with a little noise.

Someone was talking to him. He should focus on that but the brunet couldn't. It was too much, everything was too much. Everything was moving too fast. It was too rapid. Something was holding his arms. Was this the end? Was this the scene at the beginning of a horror movie where a character dies before they time skip to where the main character lives? How ironic, Wilbur had always though horror movies were stupid.

The characters never knew what to do and always went towards the scary noises. Or they panicked and made too much noise and got caught by whatever was trying to kill them. How foolish, Wilbur had always thought he would survive in a horror movie. Maybe this situation was trying to prove him wrong.

He needed to stop getting side tracked. Someone was talking to him he wasn't imagining it. It was the person holding his wrists. Maybe he should listen, if Wilburs going to be killed he at least wants to know why. He just had to focus. His thought were just so loud. So demanding of attention it was hard to pull himself away from that. Wilbur wanted to so desperately but his thoughts had started overflowing and there was no stopping them anymore.

Wilbur wanted air. He wanted air so badly. Not wanted that was wrong. He needed air. The brunet felt like he could die right now. His body and brain needed the oxygen so why did his lungs refuse it. Fuck the itch was back. Whoever was holding his wrists wouldn't let him scratch it. Honestly the young adult couldn't even if he wanted too his hands were shaking so badly.

The voice was a little clearer now. He tried to focus on that and nothing else, Wilbur tried to drown out the thought. The persons voice sounded as if they were underwater. Or maybe Wilbur was underwater and the other was trying to save him from drowning. His ears were plugged with imaginary water and his eyes were blurred from actual water probably. Or maybe his vision was just going like Techno's. He should consider glasses other than reading glasses. No he needed to stop getting lost in his thoughts. The fox hybrid needed to find this persons voice, maybe they can help pull him out from under the water.

It felt like he was closer to the surface. The persons voice was more distinguishing and he could tell it was someoke he knew. Wilbur recognized it but he couldn't put a name to it yet. It was right on the top of his tongue. Like a scratch that was just barely out of reach.

"Deep breaths Wil. In and out." It was Phil. That made Wilbur was to sink to the bottom of the ocean. Phil is probably mad, he's probably ready to yell at him once Wilbur can comprehend what he's saying. Someone's probably packing his bags right now. No he can't think like that or he'll start drowning again. Wilbur forced myself not too, to avoid the thoughts and force himself towards the surface. Finally after ages, he broke through the surface. His lungs heaved and burned with the lack of oxygen they had been getting but finally some entered. Not at a steady pace, it wasn't graceful like a Disney Princess. It was ugly and awful but he forced the air into his lungs.

"That's it Wil that's it." Phil was here. He wasn't alone, Wilbur wasn't alone. Someone was with him and even if this person kicked him out later at the moment it didn't matter. He wasn't alone and in this exact moment he was temporarily safe. He just needed to stay above the surface and he could breath. Wilbur wouldn't let himself be pushed under again.

His heart pounded, why was it beating so hard? This was worse than when they did the fitness gram pacer test that one time if that was even what it was called. Wilbur didn't care enough to remember. The beating was so loud it rang though Wilbur's ears like bells. He wouldn't be able to distinguish the pounding of his heart and the footsteps of a predator. Was this even his heart, or maybe this was someone waking towards him. Did death's footsteps sound like pounding? No death wouldn't have footsteps it had to have been his heart.

"Phil," Wilbur started slowly, "it's so loud. It's too loud I can't I can't Phil please." His lungs were on fire, he shouldn't have spoken. There wasn't enough oxygen yet. He had already messed something up again. He was going to drown again.

Phil cursed, what could he do to help Wilbur? He was still holding onto the brunets shaking hands making sure he didn't scratch his wrist again. He had started breaking skin by the time Phil had gotten there. He had to get Will out of the kitchen and his panicked state soon. Glass was everywhere and if Wilbur passed out it could be bad.

"Will you're okay. You're okay it's quiet now. Shhh I need you to breath with me." Phil said slowly. He made sure his tone was soft and quiet. The brunet started breathing again. His chest heaved with every exhale and the inhale was short and rigid but he was getting air back in again. Phil wanted to hug Wilbur and shield him from the world but he knew it would make it worse. The taller had just barely recognized him.

Phil wouldn't be helping Wilbur if he just planned to kick him out right? If he was going to send Wilbur off then he would do it now, the logical part of the fox hybrid's brain told him. The panicked part though was saying otherwise. It was a battle of which could be louder, to which neither was winning.

"Phil somethings on my arms. I can't move them." Wilburs voice sounded far away to the both of them. Phil frowned, Wilbur didn't recognize it was just Phil holding them. It was then Phil knew it was good not to hug the other. The brunet wouldn't be able to tell it was Phil.

"It's just me Wil. You were scratching yourself." Phil explained quickly. He needed to answer Wilbur and provide clarity for the situation. He also couldn't go into detail either. There was the perfect in-between to not cause thee other more panic or distress. Wilbur nodded faintly letting Phil know he had heard him. That was good, his voice was getting though to him. Wilbur was hanging on and he was pulling himself out of the panic.

Keep speaking, Wilbur wanted to scream. His vocal cords couldn't though, they had given up on him when he really needed them. Phil's voice was real. Something he could focus on other than the tornado of thought spinning and screaming for attention in his head. The thought reminded him of a toddler, or a Tommy. They didn't like to be silenced and they didn't like to listen.

Phil's voice kept him grounded and above the imaginary water threatening to drown him. He needed it right now more than ever. It was the one thing constant in his life right now, it was safe and was keeping him afloat. Wilbur needed to stop comparing this situation to water but he couldn't. It made sense to him. Water was logical emotions were not. Emotions came out of nowhere and fucked you over. Water gives life or takes it, emotions were strange and didn't work like that. They came out of nowhere or decided "hey I'm going to be a bitch today!" And all you had to do was accept it and try to get on with you're day.

"Keep," Wilbur finally chocked out, "speaking. Please." His head was too loud but Phil's voice was comforting and silenced his head. So Phil kept speaking, Wilbur couldn't make the words out but he heard it. The words didn't matter, what did matter was the noise. The comforting voice of Phil that could calm all your worries. It could drown out all of the thoughts that constantly demanded Wilbur's immediate attention. Slowly they got quieter, still there still screaming but quiet enough Wilbur could start making out words. He hear mf Techno, closely followed by farm and a word that started with P. Then he heard Tommy followed by beach and picnic.

Were these memories Phil was recounting to Wilbur? The one and only time they had brought Tommy on a picnic was too the beach. It ended up with a hat lost in the ocean, Techno swearing to never wear a sun hat again, and Tommy trying to take a 'pet' seagull into the car before they left. The memory almost brought a smile to Wilburs face. The thoughts fell into a mere whisper in the back of his head. The fox hybrid could deal with that, they were easy to ignore when they weren't screaming at him from all directions.

Soon after Wilbur looked up and could see Phil's face. It was real and Phil was really there it wasn't a trick of his imagination. His vision was slightly blurry but already mostly better and he could recognize his father figure.

"I'm tired. I'm so so tired." Wilbur mumbled. Mentally physically or emotionally no one knew. All three would be the best guess and the brunet knew he meant all three. Phil cut his story short at that and looked at him. To put it nicely, Wilbur looked like a mess. His eyes were tired and droopy yet still held so much anxiety in them as if he was ready for something to round the corner and kill him and Phil. His wrists shook and were splattered in blood and his normally fluffy meat hair was scattered and droopy.

"I know. You gotta stay awake for me Wil." Phil smiled sadly. How he wished he could just let Wilbur sleep his troubles away. But first came fixing his wounds then hydration and maybe nutrition if Phil was lucky. He could live without that though and let Wilbur sleep then eat when he woke up.

Phil didn't know what to do. The couch he could let Wilbur rest on was downstairs luckily. Though the med kit was in the bathroom upstairs and the older didn't want to move the brunet around that much. He also didn't want to leave him alone (the chances of him passing out were high or the possibility he could be triggered into another attack were too great for Phil to consider leaving him alone). Phil grabbed his phone out and quickly texted Techno to bring him a wet clothes and the med kit to the kitchen. He sighed in relief when he was left on read. Soon enough he heard light footsteps and turned around to see the pinkette walking his way.

"Phil someone's coming"

"It's just Techno. You're safe it's okay." Phil quickly assured Wilbur. The piglin hybrid passed Phil the items and walked away quickly and quietly. The blonde mouthed a thank you before he left and Techno just nodded. The last thing the pinkette knew he should do was make too much noise. So he went upstairs to his room, not before telling Tommy about the situation beforehand though.

Phil grabbed the clothe and gently whipped the blood off of the brunets wrists. He looked to see if there was any reaction from the latter but nothing, he just stared blankly but Phil knew a lot was going on inside the young adults head. The bleeding had almost completely stopped which was good. Phil set the clothe aside and grabbed the med kit now. Inside there was antibiotics to put on the wounds before he wrapped them in bandages. He put the med kit to the side and looked back at Wilbur. The boy looked so very tired.

"Wil I'm gonna help you stand okay?" He gave the other a warning and once he got a nod in return, he helped him stand up. Almost all of Wilbur weight was on Phil but he didn't mind. He brought him over to the couch and let him sit down before going back to the kitchen and grabbing a plastic cup of water. The winged man made sure to avoid the glass and made a mental note to sweep it up once Wilbur was asleep.

"Drink this then you can sleep." He gave the cup to Wilbur keeping his hand on it should the brunet drop it. Once it was empty Phil placed it on the coffee table beside the couch and turned back around. Wilbur laid with tired eyes but made no move to go to sleep. He was very tired but sleep could be bad. All the possibilities of the voices coming back or having a nightmare were too large. It seemed childish but it was true.

"Wil go to sleep it's okay. I'm right here." The older assured. He received a nod in response and it only took a few moments before the brunet was asleep. Phil wondered if he had fallen asleep quickly because of mental exhaustion or because of how much sleep he had been getting in the last few weeks. He couldn't worry about that right now though, it wasn't important at the moment. It was all okay, Wilbur was going to be okay. Once he woke up, ate and felt better Phil could ask what had happened. Of Wilbur didn't want to tell him he would respect that but he hoped he would do he could help the young adult.

The brunets dreams were strange. At first it was nothing, just pure blissful rest. Nothing but darkness as his mind rested itself to recover from the particularly eventful day. Then his brain decided to go back into a memory, one Wilbur would rather not relive. It was strange how people could remember things in their dreams with such vivid detail. It was ethereal if it was a good memory. Terrifying if it was not. It was like you were back in that memory except you knew what was going to happen next and you could do nothing to stop it, and somehow that made everything worse.

The memory started off with younger Wilbur in the nether. there was a crimson forest surrounding him yet the nether was strangely peaceful that day. He couldn't hear any hoglins or Piglins so Wilbur knew this wasn't when he met Technoblade. What memory could it be though? Or perhaps he was wrong and this was a random dream he would forget as soon as he woke up. His dream self walked around the forest until he found netherack. The fox hybrid knew exactly what memory this was now.

A fortress was near by and fortresses had food. He had to go in. Villagers in the overworked spoke of how they were dangerous but Wilbur was tough, he could handle it. The chests sometimes had bread or other foods and Wilbur didn't think he could find anymore pork chop from previously dead hoglins. The chances were too low but the fortress now gave him another option. The young boy went in though an open window on the ground floor and looked for any mobs before continuing down the long dark hallways. The nether was eerily peaceful today and the brunet didn't like it.

He didn't dwell on it as the lower his hunger got the less energy he would have. Right as he made another left turn a chest stared right back at him. Not trying to be sneaky or quiet he ran towards the chest and swung it open. Today was his lucky day, there was 10 pieces of bread which is so much more than he could have hoped for. There was also a gold nugget which he stored in his pocket. It could distract piglins for a while if he was in trouble. He smiled and grinned for the first time since he had been lost in this hell of a place. Everything was looking up and this was only one chest out of who knows how many.

Wilbur closed the chest gently and continued farther into the fortress. Normally he wouldn't push his luck but he had a feeling today would be good. When there was no more loot on the ground floor (besides disgusting nether wart) he walked up the stairs. Only a few meters down the hallway he would find another chest with nothing but a golden hoe (to which a few months later he would give as a present to Techno). The brunet sighed and closed the chest.

Footsteps right behind him. Wilbur swung the golden hoe behind him to block an oncoming attack from a skeleton. Not a normal skeleton, this one was black as night, tall as a giant and held a sword instead of a bow. The sword grazed his arms bur Wilbur wasn't worried about that. There was enough adrenaline for him to push the mob away with the hoe and jump out of a nearby window onto the top of a tree. The skeleton stared at him for a moment before walking away. It was horrifying, there was no soul it was just the undead. There was something different about wither skeletons though, there was something ill to them that made them stand out from other mobs.

Why was his arms turning black? Wilbur felt dizzy, at first he thought it was just an adrenalin crash but no. The spot the skeleton cut was turning black and he felt sick. He was going to die wasn't he? It was so painful. He wanted to cut off his arm if it made the feeling stop. It was the longest 2 minutes of Wilburs life. The black soot faded only leaving a dark scar that would have permanent withered skin over it. The brunet laid in the leaves of the red tree for the rest of what he thought was a day. Nether time was strange because it didn't have night or day. In the end it was worth it. The bread and nugget was worth the trauma. It didn't matter for the next few years every time he closed his eyes he could see the holes of a wither skeleton staring at him. How it lost interest once he was away. I one strike it could have killed him or left him to suffer the effects of the withering.

Wilbur opened is eyes. That memory hadn't been seen in Wilbur's dreams in a long time. He wasn't in the nether anymore. It didn't smell like ash and smoke. Wherever he was smelt like cinnamon and was cooler than the nether. It was okay he wasn't in danger. That changed though as he heard the fire place crackled as a small piece of wood broke off and fell to the bottom. The brunet sat up looking around for anything hostile and when nothing was found he relaxed only slightly.

The young adult stood up going to the kitchen. The floor was no longer covered in glass from the cup earlier. Was it early or was it yesterday now, Wilbur didn't know how long he had slept. Why had he come here again? Water perhaps but he didn't know where the plastic cups were and a repeat of last time would be horrendous.

"You good there Wilbur?" He jumped and turned around to look at the speaker. Both of his brothers were in the entrance. Tommy had spoken quietly which was out of character for the young boy so Wilbur assumed they at least vaguely knew what had happened.

"Mhm." Techno didn't look convinced.

"You're hands are shaking. Tommy go get Phil. Wilbur we're going back to the couch." The pinkette spoke up. Tommy nodded before running up the stairs. Wilbur wondered how he could do that so effortlessly, maybe he was just getting older though. Tommy still had very young knees after all. The piglin hybrid tapped him on the shoulder once the brunet started zoning out. The younger (by two minutes mind you) rolled his eyes before following Techno to the couch.

Maybe sitting down is a good idea after all Wilbur thought. The walk to the couch seemed long yet so painfully fast he had a headache by the time him and Techno sat down. Wilbur put his head in his hands and closed is eyes. That seemed to help when he got headaches. Techno, the ever observant person in the family quickly filled up the plastic cup that was on the coffee table and handed it to the fox hybrid. Wilbur nodded in thanks and downed the entire cup in a matter of seconds. His present headache started fading into a dull ache in the back of his head.

Wilbur's ears perked up as he heard footsteps on the stairs. One appeared to be running and skipping steps while the other was slower and took them one at a time. Tommy appeared in the living room first out of breath as he collapsed in the middle of the carpeted floor. The blonde child loved to be dramatic. Next came Phil as he strolled in calmly. The older stared at Wilbur and he didn't need to say anything for the brunet to know what he was going to say. He nodded and at Phil and his father figure nodded back sitting down in the chair near the couch.

"I never liked noise much," Wilbur started off, "Unnecessary not like speaking you know? Anxiety decided to be a mother fucker which didn't help. I just got worked up kinda and then something fell I don't know it just set me off I couldn't focus." The rest of his family listened and stayed patient when Wilbur paused. Explaining what you had been feeling was peculiar. It was trying to find the right words to match how you felt in a single moment that had passed already.

Finicky. Wilbur thought that word best described it. Like pulling out Jenga blocks from a tower, trying to find which one to pull out or speak about first. If you pulled the wrong one everything collapsed.

"And then that little voice of negativity that's always there. Like what's it fucking called, intrusive thoughts! They got so loud I couldn't hear anything else and I'm shit at exposing emotions I know." Wilbur rushed to finished off awkwardly. Everyone around him stayed silent. That was the scariest part, their reactions. They could call him stupid and the chances of being kicked out were low but not zero.

Were they low? Fuck that voice of negativity. That small thought made his anxiety sky rocket. The brunet shifted uncomfortably on the couch looking anywhere but anyone's eyes. Eyes were windows to the soul. That quote was so common yet Wilbur had no idea who had originally said it or where it had come from. It was true though, you could see emotion just through someone's eyes and Wilbur didn't like that. Soneone could see how uncertain he was or he could see what they were thinking which he didn't want either. Wether they were disappointed, angry or another emotion he couldn't place he didn't want to know until it happened.

"I'm sorry." Wilbur looked up at the gremlin child. He had no idea who was going to speak first or what they were going to say but if Wilbur had any guess it wouldn't have been that. Tommy saw the questioning look Wilbur shot him and elaborated quickly.

"I knocked something over. It's what made the noise and made everything bad." Tommy sounded so sincere and small which was out of character for him. Wilbur didn't want to make Tommy feel guilty, everyone knocked things over. Simple mistake. It had just been unfortunate timing. Like a chain reaction, it starts small and gets bigger.

"No no no Tommy no it wasn't your fault," Wilbur was quick to assure, "Everyone makes mistakes you didn't know anything would come of it. If it's anyone's fault it's mine." The rest were fast to deny all of this.

"LISTEN!' Phil yelled, "It's no ones fault. We can't control how we feel and there's no one to blame." Everyone agreed while Wilbur stayed silent. It was still his stupid emotions. He had wrecked the entire day for everyone. He wanted so badly to believe Phil but it was so difficult. If he could listen to Phil for once in his life then maybe he wouldn't feel the awful guilt that it was his fault.

"Wilbur." The male in question looked up at Phil finally.

"It is not your fault." The brunet nodded but everyone could see he didn't believe it. Wilbur felt arms wrapped around him and he turned his head to see his little brother. He wrapped his arms back around Tommy and melted into the hug. It was so comforting and loving Wilbur wanted to cry of joy. Hugs were under appreciated.

"Wil tell me it's not your fault." Damn you Technoblade, Wilbur thought. So now he should lie out loud. To his family non the less, could he really do it? The brunet didn't want to lie to their faces. They helped him and didn't throw him to the streets, they gave him all the bare necessities to live as well as care and love. This family didn't deserve to be lied too.

"It's not my fault." He may have been lying to himself but the proud looks on his families faces was worth it. The small voice in the back of his head may have disagreed though Wilbur didn't care. His family knew he thought he was lying but they didn't care. It was enough he had said it. This single moment would be on Wilbur treasured for infinity.

(I could have ended it there but wheres the fun in that)

It is your fault, the little voice was still here all these years later. Louder than ever and fully taking control. They were the new Wilbur that everyone hated and that everyone feared. No matter what Wilbur did they were always there in the back of his head.

For once if was right though. The voice wasn't lying and Wilbur didn't care. It was all his fault! He was proud of it being his fault. A little part of him hated himself for that. The voice of reason, Wilbur assumed. Reason was beyond his comprehension now. In war reason was futile and only ended up hurting everyone more. The fox hybrid learned that the hard way.

Someone had to make the tough call, someone had to take all the blame and Wilbur chose himself for that. He couldn't bestow the fate of self hatred with everyone else hating you as well onto anyone else. His son, his little brother, his friend, no one else deserved to bear that pain besides him.

Sometimes he wished it was all in the good of his own heart. He knew that wasn't the case though. It was mostly his own mind thinking this was right and had to be done no matter how many people it hurt. No matter how much it hurt him. Once his long coat trailed across the uneven rocky flooring for what would be over the 20th time he knew for sure this wasn't just to help others. He needed to be free of this burden that he had created and put on everyone's shoulders. All of the conflict was Wilbur's fault he knew that, this next bit would be his fault. It would be his last fault though, never again would he make a mistake after today. Never again would be bear the guilt of his mistakes or the worry of making another. Because he could be free after this.

He hadn't expected Phil to find him but that was only slightly inconveniencing. It didn't matter. Even when the man who had raided him tried to reason with him nothing mattered anymore. Couldn't Phil see he was beyond reason? Why couldn't he just give up on Wilbur like he had on himself so long ago. Like many others have already. Why did Phil have so much hope he could come back to the good person he used to be, if he was ever a good person.

Hope was a mistake. Look where it had gotten everyone. People were happy before Wilbur decided to fuck things up and give false hope. Hope only let everyone down and the brunet needed everyone on the dream smp to understand that, no matter how much it took. It didn't matter how many people hated him after this took place. So many hated and even feared him as soon as he got exiled to that ravine. This was just solidifying that they should hav feared him long before.

Fear was useful. It got people to stay away and take a step back. Wilbur liked using fear because it pushed people away so when he ultimately disappointed or hurt them, it didn't hurt as much. He still cared, he just chose not to show it.

The button called to him and he was stuck in a trance every time he entered that room. This time though, was the time it was pressed. The wood felt cold and damp beneath his hand. It was humid in this room though Wilbur didn't acknowledge it, or maybe he did but his brain refused to recognize and care.

It was never meant to be, were the words Eret used when they betrayed him. She had been cruel with that but Wilbur decided to mutter his words back as he pressed down on the button. It made a satisfying click and he turned to look at Phil. The face of horror was painted on. Hope diminished in a second from the mans face. The stone behind him blew up and L'Manberg was no more.

It was all Wilbur fault and he was proud. His unfinished symphony was forever unfinished and he loved that. A small part of the old Wilbur stuck with him and felt saddened by the loss of his greatest creation. His ill brain though was satisfied with his work.

And so he begged his father figure to kill him. To end his suffering. Wilbur didn't know who was talking. The old one or the slightly psychotic one. He assumed it was a mixture of both. One wanting to die because his business with the dream smp was done. The other because he couldn't live with what he had done. All the wrong outweighed the right in Wilbur's opinion. How did the music lover turn into this was a question everyone would ask for years. Wilbur didn't quite know himself either.

Philza finally did it though. He plunged the sword through his sons stomach and held him as he died. The outside was so loud, people screaming and shouting it was too much for Wilbur.

"Keep," Wilbur finally chocked out, "speaking. Please." His fathers voice could drown out everything else just like it had years ago. Phil kept speaking, he spoke to his son about happy memories until he took his final breath and was at peace.

Death was merciful for Wilbur. It was better than war after war. Betrayals and nothing but hurt had come from this country. But it was gone now so Wilbur could rest. The crushing weight of the world was lifted off his shoulders for once in his life. He could finally sleep good, so he did. He closed his eyes and listened to Phil's comforting voice for the last time until he could no longer hear it.

Maybe if Phil helped Wilbur before, years ago from when we had first gotten adopted then maybe all of this could have been prevented. He would have been able to deal with noise better, L'Manberg wouldn't exist and no one would be dead. Phil wouldn't have had to kill his son.

Wilbur always hated noise.

#this is a vent fic #dream smp fics #THIS IS THE CHARACTERS THEY PLAY IN THE DSMP NOT THE ACTUAL CREATORS #Wilbur soot centric #this is just me self projecting #hurt/comfort #hurt and no comfort #they both exist #sleepy bois inc family dynamic #paperclip writes

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fridayfirefly · 4 years

Text

falling (like the rain)

Masterlist | AO3

Written for Adrinette April Day 19: Rain

@adrinetteapril

Adrien didn't particularly enjoy telling people about his specific specialization of magic. He hated lying, and although the lie was necessary for his safety, it still left a bad taste in his mouth.

The typical elemental (if you could call the rarest form of magic user typical) controlled only one of the four elements: air, water, fire, and earth. The Graham de Vanily twins were contradictions to this rule in their abilities to control two elements. Emilie Agreste controlled the elements air and water and Amelie Graham de Vanily controlled the elements fire and earth - speculation ran rampant that had only one daughter been born, she would have been a true elemental.

Adrien, the greatest anomaly of them all, had control over all four elements, a power referred to as true elementalism. Adrien was the fourteenth true elemental in all of recorded history - needless to say, this was an ability his parents kept quiet. Adrien lied and told people that he was a water elemental. He kept his control over fire, air, and earth a secret, practicing them only in the safety of his own home.

Adrien didn't enjoy lying, but he knew that it was necessary. Should his true elemental nature ever be revealed, he would never know privacy again. The media hounded the Graham de Vanily family for months after Emilie and Amelie came out as duel elementals, he could imagine the storm of publicity that would arise should it ever be revealed that he was a true elemental.

Worse than the lying, Adrien wasn't allowed to enter public school. When he was young, he was enrolled in a private school, but everything changed when his mother was kidnapped. Her kidnappers, scientists obsessed with figuring out the secret to elementalism, had held her captive for five months. During those five months, seven-year-old Adrien spent every day worrying that his mother wasn't going to come home. After his mother was rescued and his father revealed that Adrien wasn't going to be sent back to school, Adrien was relieved. He didn't think he could go an entire school day away from his recently returned mother.

Now, it took eight years for Adrien to convince his parents that he was ready to return to public school. His family rarely left the safety of the Agreste Mansion and its walled-in grounds, but Adrien longed to make friends in the outside world. When his mother finally agreed with him, and in turn convinced his father that Adrien should enroll in classes with his peers, Adrien was ecstatic. Adrien daydreamed about his first day of school for weeks. He envisioned the day going perfectly. He imagined all the new friends he would make, all the interesting classes he could take, all the new clubs and activities he could join.

His first day of school hadn't gone as perfectly as he anticipated. He made a new friend, Nino Lahiffe; however, he also managed to make an enemy out of Marinette Dupain-Cheng, who was, according to Nino, the nicest girl in their class. It wasn't exactly his fault - Chloé was the one who stuck a misfortune charm to her seat. According to Nino, his friendship with Chloé was a red flag for him being a bully. Apparently, Chloé bulled Marinette mercilessly for years

Adrien spent the entire day trying to explain himself to Marinette, but every time he got close she slipped away. Eventually, he ran into her at the end of the day right outside of the school. She was standing underneath the entrance to the school, holding her arm out to feel the rain. A crash of thunder overhead muffled Adrien's footsteps as he walked up behind her.

"Hey," Adrien greeted.

Marinette spun around, obviously startled. Her face fell when she recognized him, and she turned around, purposefully ignoring him.

"I just wanted you to know that I was only trying to take the misfortune charm off your seat, I swear. I've never been to school before. I've never had friends. It's all sort of new to me."

"Oh." Marinette gave him a reevaluating look, and it was enough to reassure Adrien that he was making some progress.

"It's raining pretty hard. I can walk you home if you'd like."

"Do you have an umbrella?"

"I have something better." Adrien stepped out into the rain, manipulating the air overhead of him to create a sort of umbrella overhead.

"You're a water elemental." Marinette sounded surprised.

Adrien nodded, though even that was technically a lie. It was much easier to make his umbrella out of a force field of air, rather than to manipulate every droplet of rain.

Marinette stepped out of the shelter of the alcove and got under Adrien's 'umbrella', with a small smile. "I'll forgive you, but only if you keep me dry."

They started walking, Marinette pressed up against Adrien's side as she tried to keep under his umbrella. All was going well, and all should have gone well, given that Marinette's house was less than a block away. Unfortunately, Adrien's foot caught on an uneven bit of sidewalk, and he tripped forward, his umbrella of air dematerializing as soon as his concentration broke. Adrien tried to get his umbrella back in place as quickly as possible, but by the time he and Marinette were under shelter again, both were soaked from their brief time in the pouring rain. Marinette looked shocked, her soaking wet hair dripping onto her shockingly dry clothes.

Adrien rubbed the back of his neck guiltily. "Sorry."

Marinette giggled. "It wasn't your fault that you tripped. I'm not mad at you."

"Thanks." There was still a question that Adrien wanted to be answered. "How are your clothes so dry?"

Marinette pulled the collar of her coat out so that Adrien could see the sigil stitched into it. "Protection against water. I stitched it myself. I'm a threadwitch. I specialize in protective sigils."

"That's cool. It's a lot more useful than elementalism."

Marinette shook her head. "Elementalism is way cooler."

Adrien shrugged. "You have to have perfect concentration the entire time that you're wielding water. This certainly isn't the first time I've gotten soaked because I broke focus for a millisecond. For the most part, my control of water is only good for party tricks, like making umbrellas."

Marinette stopped underneath a bakery awning, and Adrien realized that it must be where she lived. "Well, we can agree to disagree. Also, if you ever want me to waterproof some of your clothes, I can embroider a sigil into them."

"That sounds great," Adrien smiled. "So, are we friends now?"

Marinette nodded. "We're friends now."

Out of the corner of his eye, Adrien saw Gorilla pull the car up to the curb outside of the bakery. He winced when he realized that his parents were going to scold him for running out without any warning. "That's my ride. Bye, Marinette."

"Bye Adrien." Marinette seemed a bit sad to see him go, but in an instant, her face suddenly brightened. "Wait just a second." She ducked into the bakery and came out a moment later with a little paper bag. "A thank-you present, for walking me home."

Adrien peeked inside the bag, which contained a rainbow of macarons. "Thank you, Marinette."

"See you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow," Marinette agreed. Adrien couldn't wait to see her again.

#adrinetteapril2020 #adrinette #miraculous ladybug #adrinette april 2020 #Adrien Agreste #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #my work #miraculous ladybug fic

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mirkysconcubinefiction · 4 years

Text

Quietly Jaded

Pairing: Omega!Peter/Alpha!Kingpin -- Omega!Peter\Avengers.

Summary: Peter Parker is an Omega masquerading as a Beta. A story of student loans, Avengers wanting Spiderman, Avengers wanting Peter Parker for his Omega status, and Peter just done with them. He doesn't need them - he already has an Alpha. Not the best Alpha but... Well... Fuck.

Tags: Major AU, ABO world, Heats/Ruts, Drug Abuse, Dark Personalities, College Peter, Dubious Consent, more added later.

Part 1

Peter hadn't always been the silent type. It grew on him with time. Losing friends, losing family, it was just easier to not talk than to talk - besides school there wasn't much to talk about.

Not like he could discuss being Spiderman?

With college dreams came college debt and even with grants and scholarships, student loans kept a roof over his head and food in his stomach.

Legally no one had to know his gender. He didn't act like most Omegas or Alphas so many people presumed he was a beta which wasn't a bother.

Betas were a safe median.

If Peter Parker was a Beta then so was Spiderman.

Hero's or vigilante's of justice weren't titles Omegas carried. Not that they were incapable but mostly the world was a shitty place and he was safer as a Beta than Omega.

No worries of being snatched.

No worries of his degree somehow being mishandled.

No worries of being treated like a damsel in need of a minder. Modern America, as progressive as any first world country, was still archaic in nature to a Omegas ability to cope outside of a Pack or Alphas knot.

It started as a curiosity or so that's how Peter saw it as. The Avengers paying attention to him was... Unneeded but the geek in him was intrigued.

First was Tony Stark aka Iron Man who appeared from nowhere one cool Autumn evening. It was a quiet night, the witching hour, a time where nothing really happened in the never quiet city. Sitting on a swing made from his webs he was eating a sandwich from his favorite bodega. The grandmother of seven never took no for an answer after he had saved her life and that of her children several times over the years and had even knitted him a scarf once.

Peter still had that scarf.

Mask pulled up to sit along the ridge of his nose he had sat staring out into the world with a gargoyle above him for company.

"You're softer than I pegged you for."

His senses didn't tingle and that alone kept him there, hanging like a booger from an impossibly high building, and taking a much deserved bite from his sandwich. A cuban torta with extra adobo.

"So. Kid. Got a name?"

Silence.

Peter chewed and ignored the floating man whose stare went from curious to frustrated.

"It's rude to not speak when spoken to."

Shoving the last of his food into his mouth Peter wiped the crumbs from his chin, pulled down his mask, and with a thumbs up, ripped an end of his webbed swing.

Plummeting like a bowling ball down... Down... And with a well-aimed (practiced) web swung himself away from sight. Iron Man wouldn't find him, not when Peter knew of a well hidden niche that he could slip into and not be seen or leave a heat signature.

Something that Iron Man was trying to do and Peter was grateful for his sensitive ears.

Next was Captain America. Decked out in his uniform and shield. It was a pretty wicked shield and one that Peter had caught before it could hit the cyborg that was destroying a nameless street of the city.

Spiderman ignored the shouts of 'traitor' and the arrows that followed him but Peter was more than a flexible arachnid. He was quite familiar with this street. It was the street that housed a shit ton of kids.

Kids that had loved it when he opened the fire hydrants or handed out frozen pops because Peter loved kids.

Not because he was an Omega.

Hell no.

He just loved kids. Kids loved him and thought he was cool.

Using the shield to block the occasional laser blast - because of course lasers - Peter lead the cyborg away. His webs helped to drag the thing and keep it from swinging wildly but Peter was more than bendy, more than, web's, he was strength and endurance.

While the others had stopped trying to kill him - yes those were kill shots - Peter managed to drag the hefty piece of machinery away. Feet digging into the concrete, one hand fisting a bundle of his webs as the other held close to a shield that left his hand tingly.

From the sewers a mass of crab like machines took the Avengers attention and as he finally reached an open area of an eight lane street Peter didn't panic when the cyborg finally broke free. The webbing shredding and as he fell from the slack Peter turned and tucked himself behind the shield in time for a powerful beam to hit the Vibranium and drag him backwards from the force.

Even in the face of death he thought it was cool. So cool.

This wasn't his first time facing a cyborg. A giant imitation of a man decked out in weaponry with a human brain attached in its center. Cyborgs bled green and their eyes were yellow pinpoints of awareness.

Cool but creepy.

Very creepy.

With one hand he sent out a web, latched onto a bus and swung it towards the cyborg that put all its attention to the massive vehicle, using each arm to fire laser beams - still so cool - missing Captain America's shield that hit where the brain sat.

Right side, 8 inches from the center, shield at a 70° angle.

A stream of green blood - plasm - and brain matter coated the streets. The shield hit the ground at a roll and lodged into the side of a brick building. A hair's breadth away from the man who had aimed arrows at his head.

Peter was sad that he missed. Not that he couldn't have killed the man but Spiderman had an image to keep up and he was sure kids were peaking through blinds.

If Hawkeye stared at the shield with wide-eyed 'what the fuck', Peter accepted that as payment.

Asshole.

Had Peter been... Well... Nicer... He would have thrown himself back into the fray helping the Avengers finish iff the crab robots except Peter wasn't that nice and he wasn't that forgiving.

Padding to the twitching machinery Peter took a moment to web himself a mat on the ground and take apart the cyborg. He was quick, knowing exactly what he wanted and where to find it, bundling it in his own web Peter pulled up the edges and folded the edges together and without a backwards glance he left.

Fuck the Avengers.

As Spiderman Peter had the nasty habit in bumping into random heros with hero size complexes and it got to the point where he just waved at the several who tried to stalk him.

They weren't as stealthy as they thought they were.

As Peter Parker there was no Avengers just debt and homework. The two worlds very rarely collided. Peter Parker was a nobody... Well... He was on the Deans List and top 12% of the university when it cam to grades even if his attendance was far from stellar.

Thankfully he had made a friend with a doctor who wrote really nice perfectly excusable doctor notes.

He had done the math. It would be a 2.8% chance he would catch the eyes of anyone Hero related. Nothing he did as a regular schmoe would catch anyone's attention.

Really.

Honestly.

Of course he never fraction in his own Parker Luck.

Fuck his Parker Luck and Fuck his inability to think properly after a near 27 hours of no sleep and a lab all to himself. At 1am he had the building to himself and the key card to prove it!

At 1 am and still wide-eyed with a brain that wouldn't shut off, Peter shouldn't have been allowed near anything that contained chemicals besides H2O. Instead he had 2 walls dedicated to his scribbles with a rainbow of color - thank you crayola - a pyramid of Styrofoam microwaveable ramen and a teetering tower of hot pocket boxes, and a keurig.

He had an unlimited - well half a box left - of hot chocolate to tide him over and a bag of mini marshmallows to keep the shakes away as he worked on his thesis. Technically his thesis was typed, edited, and awaiting a last read through BUT he was stuck.

He was so close to creating the perfect drug that he was vibrating with a desperate energy as his friends - the machines scattered around the room - worked to show him if his calculations were correct or he had to start again.

Staring at the board Peter needed to distract himself from the whirring and beeping. Headphones in place he jump started his bluetooth and filled the silence with his google playlist set to play his thumbs up.

As it was so late and he was alone in the building Peter didn't think singing along to his playlist would be a big deal. Being an Omega he had few quirks that were... Questionable.

Omega's were notorious for their allurement beyond their scent. Many were artists, creators of music, rhythm, designers, they were architects, chefs, Omegas were once considered Sirens and Muses of the God's... While Peter could sketch and recite the periodic table backwards and forwards he could sing.

There was something about his voice that could draw attention or put someone to sleep if he so wished. A lullaby sung softly and with his will alone he could hush a colicky baby in minutes much to the relief of the parents he had babysit for.

Peter blamed Toni Braxton.

Peter blamed the open windows to the lab.

Peter blamed the chaos that happened less than a mile away from the University and the Hulk that somehow broke away from the group and all but bulldozed himself to the lonely building off set from the rest of the school.

Peter blamed... Well... He blamed Tony Stark for being a nosy douche of a man and tuning into the voice singing a very heartfelt rendition of un-break my heart.

Outside the lab Tony watches as the Hulk shifts back to being just Bruce and the man is swaying, "Omega."

Tony's gaze swivel down to where Bruce is laid out on the ground, dazed. "What?" Had he heard the man right.

"Hulk..." It was difficult to speak so soon after a change but Bruce managed one more word, "Omega." And it didn't take much to put two and two together and Tony moved until he was hovering by the only window lit out of the building.

Hair a mess, clothes askew, ass perched on the a desk, sat a young man staring at a dry erase board and hands moved with each dip and rise. The boy was moving, a dry eraser in one hand and a purple marker in another as he wrote a different scribble.

Tony was smart, brilliant even, but even if he squinted he couldn't make out what was written. There was numbers with familiar sequences but even JARVIS who had scanned the room was at a lost and suggested the scribbles were a code.

Quiet filled the room and he took that moment to shush his team and soon another song had the younger man humming, head nodding to a beat.

"Send away for a priceless gift One not subtle, one not on the list Send away for a perfect world One not simply, so absurd In these times of doing what you're told

Keep these feelings, no one knows

What ever happened to the young man's heart? Swallowed by pain, as he slowly fell apart..."

Maybe he was just tired but Peter didn't feel the eyes watching him. There was no warning from his spider senses just a quiet madness as he darted through the room. The keurig churning out hot chocolates and fueling the madness of no sleep and rainbow scribbles.

A.M. comes with bright lights and failure.

It was tempting to swipe the board clean but Peter was passed out under the only desk that would block out the sun with his lumpy backpack as a pillow.

It's an awkward way to sleep but Peter isn't picky. He's slept in worse conditions, even upside down once, and he had a 48 hour hold on that particular lab.

The click of the door unlocking doesn't wake him. The tap of heeled leather Oxford shoes doesn't wake him as said shoes stroll through the room until they pause right where he was sleeping.

Eye's hidden by sunglasses worth more than all the textbooks he was sleeping on, Peter didn't notice the frown on the man's face or the flurry of texts the man was sending before he crouched and woke Peter with a gentle nudge.

What did wake Peter was his alarm on his phone. A far too loud alarm that startled him enough he jerked awake, banging an elbow and his head on the desk. Swearing a storm, mind addled by sleep, Peter fumbled for his phone and dropped it.

Blinking at the pair of dress shoes, Peter held his breadth as he looked up... And up... Into familiar brown eyes. "Who the fuck are you?"

An eyebrow arched, "Everyone knows who I am."

No. Spiderman knew Tony Stark. Peter Parker could care less. "Are you lost?"

"Nope." The man rocked on his heels, eyes gazing around. "Came to see you. Interesting finding someone like you here of all places."

Peter frowned, "I'm not squatting. I wouldn't be the first person catching a nap trying create something big."

"Big hu?" His hands slipped into his slack pockets, "the hot pockets are shit for your metabolism by the way."

"They're cheap and I'm broke. I'm guessing you wouldn't understand the concept of broke." Peter tried to lay back down and cover his eyes with his arm, legs folded.

"Yet with no full-time job you somehow have managed to chip away at your student loans. I'm impressed."

A warning buzz settles over him and Peter keeps himself as nonchalant as he can unwilling to give the Alpha the show of panic that he felt. "This is a school of side hustles. Take your pick and leave."

A moment passes in quiet but Tony doesn't leave. Why would he? "Quite rude." The man murmurs, "Is that anyway to..."

"Leave before I call security." Peter interrupts, "You're a strange old man alone in a room with a sleeping student, only perverts stay where they're not wanted."

"Pervert? Pervert!"

"Yes. Pervert." Arm dropping away Peter made a point to glare into the yellowish hue of the glasses. "I've asked you to leave and you refuse. You are not my professor or the janitor. This is my lab and either you picked the lock or bribed someone and I'll be sure to tell the Dean that a creepy old man was allowed into his building to harass a student."

"Actually this is my lab. I own this building." Tony expected some form of recognition instead he got snark.

"Did you piss on the wall or write your name on it like a petulant child?"

It's not often that Tony finds himself without words but his lips part in surprise before. He lets out a whoosh of air shakes his head. "For an Omega you're a mouthy little thing."

The quiet is met with Peter blinking and Tony waiting. If Peter was smart he would have immediately denied any accusation or stood in righteous anger... Instead the younger man laughed. "That..." Peter folded his hands on his stomach and grinned, "is quite a compliment thank you." Tony frowned and Peter batted his eyelashes. "I'm pretty enough to pass for an Omega has to be the nicest thing anyone has said to me this semester."

"Just this semester?" Tony couldn't help but ask.

"Yep."

The quiet stretched far longer than was comfortable and Tony sighed, "I have a proposition for you."

"No."

His carefully constructed speech and patience flew out the window as he was interrupted, "No?"

"No." Peter repeated, slowly. "N. O." He spelled out just in case.

"No? You can't tell me no."

"I can, I did, and I don't care." Peter frowned before he unfolded himself and crawled out from under the desk and brushed the dust off his wrinkled two-day old clothes, "Alphas who can't accept a no and argue over the word are a danger to society." Tony wasn't sure how someone that wasn't eye level could make him feel small.

"Do you know who I am?" The kid arched a brow, took a step back, and eyes him from the tips of his shoes to his perfectly coiffed hair.

"Yes." Tony preened, "You're a misogynistic ass hole who thinks you can walk into my lab unannounced and get away with harassing a student and bringing up genders as if the position of my scent glands justifies your casual dismissal of my constitutional rights. You can't belittle or coerce me into agreeing to anything you have to say based on your purse strings or that you imply ownership on a building that was built from multiple donations. If I was an Omega I have every right to kick you in the nuts and get away with scratching your eyes out."

Tony's lips pressed into a firm irritated line.

"Seeing as I'm not I'll just settle for telling you to get the fuck out of my lab or I will scream murder. I'm a beta on beta kinda guy, so keep your paws off my no-no spots."

It was unexpected, Tony twitched as Peter's hands touched him - shoved him really - right out the door. Tony would never admit to sputtering or tripping over his own feet as he was pushed out the lab and the door firmly locked behind him.

Confused and slightly embarrassed he adjusted his blazer and nonchalantly walked away. I'm a beta on beta kinda guy... the words are like oil and water, his skin tingles where the younger man's hand roamed, the heat that made that primal part of his brain rear up and whisper Omega.

Spiderman was an escape.

There was times when he could swing away his worries with dizzying feats of near deaths, the adrenaline rush doing more for him than any drug on the market.

There was times, like that morning, when he would climb to the highest point, tuck himself into a corner, and hide. He was a millennial with a safe space and it was the safest space to exist in N.Y.

Just him and the pigeons.

Times like this he wondered how far he could fall without instinct there to make him survive and carry on another day?

Curling in on himself he hugged his knees tight to himself and let the tears fall. It wasn't often that he cried but when he did it was usually quiet and when he was alone. No one could see him weak, no one could see him break, no one could... A trumpet broke his depressive silence. An unexpected noise at an impossible height except it was a drone.

The four propellers were whisper quiet and a white flag waved in the wind.

"Fuck." Summed it up.

A 3d hologram appeared and it was the image of Princes Leia kept him sitting, curious, vs jumping off the ledge. "Hello itsy bittsy spider."

Peter narrowed his eye's and flicked out a web, the drone was quick to swerve.

"You're cordially invited to attend a gathering..." Diving off the building was a better option than listening to Tony Stark invite him to a Tea Party as if they were friends. You don't forgive people who tried to kill you.

Especially if they didn't apologise.

Especially if they stalked you.

Since being bitten by a radioactive spider like some weird comic book character, Peter had gone through physical and mental changes. Presenting as an Omega had come later, in fact his first spike of heat happened during a particular difficult battle with none other than Kingpin himself.

It had been a gory fight with Peter having to plow through layers of underlings from normal everyday thugs to enhanced goons that were blood thirsty to get the bounty Kingpin had put on his head.

It was a hefty bounty too.

Just enough where Peter contemplated killing himself off for profit. Kingpin had been his usual boastful self and holding a weapon that was more sci-fi than the usual glock.

They had stood in a penthouse that had made him hyper aware he was dripping blood on the cream-colored carpet and the beautiful statues were judging him.

Kingpin had a spiel like all super villains and Peter had listened as his mind raked over how he would survive this encounter when the A.C. kicked on. Cool filtered air pushed from the vents, Peter had shivered as it passed over his heated flesh that peaked from the patches of bare skin, it had taken moments for that devilish curl of the Kingpin's lips to unfurl and something else come forth.

Kingpin was a force of human nature. Built by weights and sheer spite. He was aggression, darkness, he was the devil amongst demons, he was a pendulum that swung between the dark side of the underworld and the light side of a family man.

Most importantly.

Kingpin was an Alpha.

An Alpha tied to a Beta and a son.

Dark blue eyes shifted, bleeding red before the massive bulk of a man lifted the gun and fired a single shot. The sizzle of the blast prickled the side of his face as the beam shot over his shoulder and the thump of a body falling told him that his spider senses were off.

Peter had studied many things but Omegean Biology wasn't one of them. He knew the fundamentals like many but the liquid fire that pooled at the base of his spine and slithered its way up left him standing rigid and an ache between his legs had him hissing.

Peter didn't remember closing his eyes, he didn't hear Kingpin move, his senses were so out-of-order he flinched when a large hand settled atop his head. "Shhh." Peter felt himself tugged into Kingpins girth, it had made him tremble and a whine had escaped him.

Later. Much later. Peter would learn that the man who was intent on killing him had cuddled him on an impossibly massive bed, the Alpha crooning, hands that could bend steel caressed him like a lover would, and for three days helped him through his first heat.

"Call me Wilson. Wilson Fisk."

Awareness had come in doses. The feel of soft cotton against his bare skin, the slick between his thighs, the ache somewhere deep and personal, classical music played in the background drowning the hitch in his chest, relief had been a burst of gratitude as shaky fingers touched the familiar texture of his torn mask.

The stretchy fabric cover his nose an encircled his cheeks and curved along his brow, seemingly glued to his skin. Hair, ears, lips, and chin were as exposed as the rest of him.

Before Peter could sit up a hand came from no where and settled on his chest, thumb and finger digging into his collarbone as he was pushed back into the mattress.

Pliant.

Weak.

A mess.

Kingpin was a solid presence he hadn't noticed until that moment. Hard naked lines with impossibly wide shoulders and solid smooth skin with not a hint of hair except for two perfectly sculpted eyebrows that furrowed in contemplation. "Where do we go from here Spiderman?"

It had been when that hand slipped and encircled his throat did Peter feel his body involuntarily move. Legs splaying openly and back arching as a familiar haze of arousal overwhelmed the need to run.

Wilson was an exceptional lover. His first Alpha, his first Knot, Peter never expected to be the Mistress of his arche nemesis, he didn't expect to have heats that were bursts of short frequent intervals, he didn't expect the open invitation to spend it with the Alpha, and he didn't expect the absolute possessiveness of Wilson or just how much control an Alpha like Wilson had over an Omega like Peter.

"Save the world but you will not interfere with my organization and you will be my most prized possession."

It was a story twisted by biology, twisted by the illogical logic of an emotion one could say was love if you squint, and the reason Spiderman dressed as a different character jumped from the side lines and into traffic, using his strength to flip a car that was chasing the Kingpin.

It rankled something deep that the urge to protect made him feel like a villain and the mocking laughter of Kingpin getting away hit him hard.

Fighting The Avengers to keep the Alpha alive had never been part of the plan, watching the chase from a random store front window, hearing the helicopters, it was a spur of the moment decision to steal a face bandana with a skull smile and a pair of polarized wide swimming goggles.

Running fast and hard he didn't use his webs and instead focused on his natural talent and that primal urge to protect the knot-head responsible to keep him blissed out for his next upcoming heat.

Toe to toe with Captain America and the Winter Soldier was... Thrilling. As Spiderman there was an awareness of maintaining his cool but as a stranger with a cheap mask and flannel shirt Peter could catch the Winter shoulders Vibranium arm and force the man to the ground before kicking Captain America's shield and tossing the pompous soldier away like a rag doll.

Peter's body moves on auto pilot as he flips backwards and moves with grace and fluidity as a mess of weaponry aim for him. Between Iron Man's blasts, Hawkeyes arrows, Black Widows bullets, Peter feels like he's dancing on the edge of death and it leaves him feeling hot and aroused.

Slipping beneath an abandoned truck he sticks his hand on the underside and with hard pushes against the asphalt he uses the truck to plow through what traffic is left and holding his breadth Peter pushed up with his leg and the truck flipped, the roof smashing on the ground and catching sparks.

Letting out a whoop, his flannel shirt wafting in the air he grinned behind the mask as he surfed for a stretch of time before coming to a halt and with Iron Man trailing him Peter ran.

Hard.

Fast.

Through the city.

Forcing the Avengers to chase him and not Kingpin.

More later...

*Part 2*

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sketchy-saram · 4 years

Text

Winter Refrain

At long last! A promised story I somehow forgot to post, LOL.

It’s been two long years since Felix left Vesuvia, but Advieh is about to get a surprise on the night of the Winter Ball. Will it be everything that they hoped for?

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Felix? Yes, I saw him heading towards the gardens. He looked...healthy. Normal. Good luck, darling. I hope...I hope it works out for you both.”

Hope. Such a small, fragile word, and yet it beat so strongly in Advieh’s chest, warring against doubt and fear with a strength that belied its size. What had started that morning as a vague, listless duty to attend the Winter Ball had become an anxiety that almost overwhelmed them when they heard that Felix was going to attend. And yet, within all the clouds of uncertainty, the tiniest fluttering of hope still lived, unwilling to surrender.

Maybe...maybe he remembers. Maybe things can go back to the way they were. Maybe… It was the ‘maybe’ that pushed them forward when their legs wanted to freeze up, having nothing to do with the chilly winter air. They pulled the skirt of their dress higher, resenting the weight of it that dragged them down and yet grateful for any spare second. By the time they had passed the gardens to the maze, their breath was already coming in soft puffs of white. There was no sign of him, and no one else to ask. Where would he go? It was disorienting. Before, Felix was never more than a stone’s throw from them. How could those days feel like a million years ago, and just yesterday at the same time?

They tried to swallow; their mouth was as dry as the Nopal desert. Their blood pounded loudly in their ears, especially audible in the silence of the wintery wonderland around them. Large quantities of fake snow had been magicked up for the occasion; twinkling strands of fairy lights twined around the manicured bushes and trees, and floating lanterns of soft violets and blues lit the path for anyone who might wander this far. The effects were fanciful, romantic...and only vaguely noticed by Ad, their attention stolen.

Any sign of that familiar smiling face, the rainbow hair, the broad shoulders...

And then, everything seemed to stop in time as they rounded a corner, greeted by the large marble fountain with its ornamental owl...and a figure that was unmistakable even from afar, sitting on the edge of the pool. Ad sucked in a breath, not moving, drinking in every detail like it was water for their parched tongue. All feeling had been sapped from their body, except the heart thumping painfully in their chest--that continuous thud reminded them that this was real.

This was happening.

He looked a bit different, although the essence of him was exactly as they remembered. His hair had grown out; still shaved at the sides, but the deep blue locks were pulled back now into a ponytail that was curling at the ends. The color was muted for Felix, but it still wasn’t a natural hue, which relieved them for some reason. The childhood scar on his lip was there, and his eyes, cinnamon-brown, were still gentle as they stared up at the twinkling snowfall. His clothes were finely-tailored and exquisite--Wren must have been working hard in her absence, Ad thought, their mind wandering. So many things. So much to take in after such a long time.

The nostalgia was like a punch to the stomach, and all the emotions that they had fought so hard to repress threatened to destroy the dam that held them. The hands holding their skirt bunched the fabric, gripping it desperately, as if to find some semblance of balance. Errant tears blurred their eyes, and stung in the cold night air.

Maybe...maybe this had been a bad idea after all. If he remembered, if he truly remembered, he would have found them first. There was no doubt in Ad’s mind of that, and the flutter of hope dimmed. Why did it hurt so badly, that knowledge, after so long? Maybe hope was more of a burden than a help, and yet it stubbornly stayed rooted. A flower that didn’t know when to die.

Is having Felix around, even if he can’t remember, better than not having him at all?

They knew the answer to that, as well as they knew their own name. So, after what was only a few seconds but felt like an eternity, Advieh began to pick their way through the snow, their face calm, their heart hammering unfettered.

At long last, Felix turned to look in their direction, catching their intent gaze with his own.

And he smiled.

“I’m sorry. I kept you waiting.”

His voice sounded deeper, more...introspective, somehow. Maybe they just hadn’t heard it in such a long time? It was a little teasing, which was reassuring, and yet there was definitely a wall they weren’t used to. They remembered the wall when they went to see him, after the...after everything happened. Advieh was used to walls. Why did this one sting so much more? They fought a frantic urge to tear it down, to beg for that easy familiarity that had once irked them so much.

“I didn’t know you would be here,” they said, trying not to sound accusatory. They could feel their lips trembling. Firmed them. “When did you get back to Vesuvia?”

They were still so far apart, and yet Ad couldn’t bring themself to take another step, or to cross through that gulf--not until they knew for sure, one way or another. Knew he wasn’t here to say goodbye again. Even after all this, I’m a coward, they thought angrily. But still, they stayed put. Maybe a person only had one heartbreak in them to endure.

“Just a few days ago. I stayed with Asra in his magic shop. I wasn’t sure I would come here, I guess.” His words were even, measured, and light on the surface. But the smile he gave Advieh was sorrowful. The pit in their stomach opened up further. “I’m so sorry. I haven’t...I don’t remember much more than before. I don’t remember you. I’ve tried and tried, but I can’t. I can remember days, times, events, but there are just...holes.”

Holes shaped like me, Ad thought, the tears welling up again. They swallowed. Hard.

He sounded tired, but also frustrated. At least they knew now. Some of the weight of uncertainty lifted, only to be replaced by the desire to soothe, but continued fear of rejection. It was a combination only Felix had ever brought out of them.

“I can’t remember any of those old memories...but I still couldn’t forget about you. About meeting you. I couldn’t stay away any more.” Those words, said more forcefully, shook Ad out of their emotional stupor. Finally Felix stood, the crunch of snow under his boots a soft sound compared to his voice. He took a step closer to them. “Every time I try to remember being really, truly happy...I can’t. All those memories seem to have been with you. So maybe I can’t remember those times, but...I know that they were the happiest of my life. I would do anything to get them back. For you. For us.” Another hesitant step.

“Maybe it will never happen. But I know that I can’t run away from you any more. I tried. I tried to forget. And I thought...maybe if you had forgotten me too, you wouldn’t come here. That was a bit selfish of me.” Finally he gave another small smile, just a quirk of his lips. “But you did.”

By now he wasn’t so far away; maybe only a couple of feet. The boots gave him a little more height on them. The feathers of his cloak looked downy and soft. The swell of his chest under his doublet as he breathed the icy air was visible. How could he be the same person Advieh wanted so desperately, and yet not quite?

But they also had an answer, after all this time.

“I did.” They reached out, chilly hands finding Felix’s gloved ones. The white leather was soft, and although he started at the touch, he did not shy away from it.

Maybe there could still be hope, even if it was a different kind of hope.

“Felix, I have to...I need to say some things. This...is all my fault. No, it is,” they hurriedly continued, when he automatically opened his mouth to deny it. It was hard, what they wanted to say, and yet once they started, it was easier than they thought. It felt like a confession of the worst kind of sin, but letting go felt so much better.

“I was a coward, and I was blind. Worse, I was ignorant, and I stayed that way on purpose. I thought that there was a role I had to play, and so I forced myself to play it. I told myself I was trapped in a cage. But the truth is...the truth is that I locked myself in that cage. I held the key. I fooled myself into thinking I had no other options, because options and choices were frightening. And yet. You were the only one to force yourself inside. To hold open the door. To ask me to leave with you.” They had to stop, to compose themself, because their voice had ground to a whisper under the weight of the emotions. Everything they wished they had said. All the truths they held back before.

But not this time. Not again.

“And I...I didn’t take your hand. When the time came, I was too afraid to leave. I didn’t want to think of a way out, so I told myself we could both be locked in that cage together. That we could be happy enough that way, without words. Without commitment. And it...it almost cost you everything. I’m so sorry, Felix. I’m so, so sorry.”

A few defiant tears escaped then, and Ad let out a noise of frustration, not wanting the indulgence. This was too important. And yet, there wasn’t much more that could be said. All there could be was a response.

Felix’s hands tightened on theirs, like he was fighting an intense urge to do...something. A million small changes raced across his face. Then, at last, he raised one hand and placed it ever-so-hesitantly on their cheek to brush away the tears. It was the most feather-light touch Ad had ever felt. They let out a trembling breath; let their eyes flutter closed.

“I feel like...I already forgave you. I don’t think there was ever anything to forgive. Not to me, anyway. I felt...insane, for having these feelings for someone I couldn’t remember. But you were always there. I know that memories make us who we are. They shape us into different people...and I know I can’t be the same man you remember, when I don’t have those memories inside me. But looking at you, I...want. I want you. I want to know you. I want to be even better than the person I was before, whoever he was. And he was an idiot if he didn’t tell you how much you meant to him. I won’t--”

“I love you,” Ad said, their mouth moving and saying the words before Felix could even finish his sentence. The sound of that declaration, said aloud, was a surprise even to them. Once their brain caught up, their hands flew to their mouth, an ‘O’ of shock, and clapped over it tightly. “Ah,” they said, in a high and reedy squeak that they were sure they had never made in their whole life, “I didn’t mean...that was so sudden, I….ah...” But their own embarrassment was temporarily forgotten as they looked up to see the absolutely radiant look of elation, surprise, and pleasure on Felix’s face. He took another step, closing most of the little distance left between them, and brought his other hand up to frame their face.

“This is wild, and crazy, and I can honestly say I’ve lost my mind. But...I think I love you, too.” He laughed, a breathless sound that was an exhale of relief and a celebration, and then Ad’s feet lost contact with the ground as he lifted them up, the feel of his arms around them just the way they remembered.

Maybe this wasn’t the same as before. But there was no reason they couldn’t start again. And this time, Ad thought, they would do it properly. No more hiding. No more secrets. No more shutting themself off for fear of the world, even as they stared out at it wistfully from inside a palace or a carriage. They remembered the last words the two of them had spoken to one another, in the Hanged Man’s realm that day while Felix’s life hung in the balance. Maybe the assertions he made then had been true all along. Maybe they would remember each other, and love each other, even if they had to start from zero again. Ad was never a big believer of fate...and yet, just this once, it didn’t feel like such a terrible thing, being fated to be with this man.

Felix had already saved them twice; once from a literal sword, and then from a miserable life in the cage they built themself. Yet here he was again, with no memory of them, his hand held out with no hesitation.

This time they would grab it, they thought, and they would never let go of it again. After all, Advieh didn’t make the same mistake twice, and there were so many new ones waiting to be made...for the both of them.

Together.

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notthatiwilleverwriteit · 4 years

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I was re-reading the whole story and I've noticed a lot of moments where zhan punched or slapped jian and no one called him abusive but when he tian did it to mo in the past he always got hate. The thing I love the most about tianshan is that they're relationship is not the typical one and not "rainbows and sunshine" but I wouldn't call it abusive either. Where did this double standard come from?

Good evening, dear anon-san!

I have talked about physical violence, comedy, and toxicity a couple of times. Here are some asks that I think could be related to your topic:

HT as the discipliner?

ZZX and violence in the beginning

Is Tianshan (still) toxic?

Is Tianshan toxic, vol. 2?

I might repeat myself a little but I don’t think I have compared Zhanyi and Tianshan this way before. At least not in so many words. Also, for this ask, I’m going to call punches, kicks, and slaps just physical violence. But please don’t jump to any conclusions. In each case, I will be giving it context, so “physical violence” doesn’t equal “toxic abuse”. It’s just easier if I have some kind of quick way to refer to whenever the boys kick, slap, or punch each other.

“Where did this double standard come from?”

I wouldn’t call either Zhanyi or Tianshan abusive but I do think physical violence is different in nature when it comes to the respective relationships. So, I do see why people treat it differently when ZZX kicks JY from when HT kicks MGS. Because they are different, although they both serve their own purposes.

Context is the key here. I don’t think you should call anything abusive or toxic without a proper context which is exactly what makes all the difference here. This is also partly why I don’t think Tianshan is toxic or abusive. If you separate the physical violence of both Zhanyi and Tianshan from their contexts, they become seemingly similar. A punch is a punch.

Let’s take a look at Zhanyi at first. The comedy in 19 Days (especially in the beginning) is largely based on slapstick comedy. A form of humor that strongly exaggerates physical violence (either accidental or intended). Literally, when someone gets slapped, it makes us laugh. You can see this kind of comedy a lot in cartoons, comics, and anime. It’s not “real” violence; it’s merely a comedic moment that doesn’t have longlasting effects.

Doesn’t that sound pretty much like Zhanyi? Usually, this kind of comedic physical violence is built on JY’s crush on ZZX and him not always being able to hold back while ZZX is the one with stricter boundaries. JY, being the oblivious airhead in love that he is, often ends up getting uncomfortably close to ZZX or making some kind of pass at him or otherwise gets on ZZX’s nerves. ZZX gets embarrassed, bothered or annoyed, and all of us wait for him to explode in 3…2…1… (ch. 1, 4-5, 9-13, 23-24, 29, 30-31, 34, 62, 73, 86, 88, 92, 106, 121, 129, 137, 171, 206, 247, 253):

Even listed like that, ZZX’s physically violent behavior starts to look kind of bad. But if you remember to read them as a part of their context their meaning shifts quite significantly. Prior to those slaps, punches or kicks, JY had:

touched ZZX’s personal stuff without permission

suddenly kissed him on the lips

refused to get up

destroyed ZZX’s precious stuff by being careless

drooled on ZZX’s shirt

suddenly gotten in ZZX’s face and startled him

tried to hold ZZX’s hand while drunk

been pushy with physical affection

practically made love to ZZX’s blanket

been overall an idiot

suggested they took a bath together to save water

squeezed ZZX’s butt

nearly toppled ZZX over

wiped his snotty nose on ZZX’s shirt

jumped him

suddenly wrapped his legs around ZZX’s waist and locked him in an awkward position on top of JY

tricked ZZX with a lollipop he had already sucked on

suddenly flashed his dick when ZZX wanted to have a serious talk

told something embarrassing about ZZX to someone

and finally ripped his jeans while trying to feel ZZX up.

When you put the physical violence in all of that context, it suddenly becomes something else than ZZX being abusive towards JY. Especially when you’re familiar with the characters, what kind of relationship they have, and 19 Days as a publication. So no, I wouldn’t call the physical violence in Zhanyi abusive or ZZX an abusive character. We realize the bruises, bumps and bloody noses are there for a laugh and they’re “healed” by the next panel.

Besides for the comic relief, ZZX also seems to get physical if JY had made him worry (ch. 179, 181, 198):

In a way, that fits Zhanyi as well. ZZX is the protector and JY the one who’s weaker and yet often careless and oblivious. Giving JY a hefty slap in the head is a way for ZZX to take his relief out on something. Could he do something else instead? Sure. But I don’t think that still makes him an abusive character. It’s just an exaggerated way to show how worried he is about JY.

As far as my interpretations go, there has been one occasion when the physical violence in Zhanyi got darker (ch. 141):

Usually, when JY makes a pass at ZZX, it’s lighthearted and comedic in nature. They could have been brushed off as jokes and JY just messing around. That kiss was different, though. In his panic-hazed bout of seizing the moment, JY did something he had wanted to do for years. It wasn’t a joke anymore, and his unrequited love was suddenly there for both of them to see. ZZX’s reaction was more than expected, but the violence was different in nature. He wasn’t comedically annoyed but shocked and upset. However, even this occasion doesn’t come across as “abusive” to me. Rather it was about something that had been simmering under the surface for a long time suddenly bursting out in the open, raw, vulnerable and potentially destructive. By ZZX seemingly reacting the same as always, it was cleverly demonstrated how it wasn’t the same at all.

Now, what about Tianshan? HT and Tianshan are often called abusive and toxic. Personally, I can see where people who think so are coming from even if I don’t interpret HT’s character and their relationship the same way. There is physical violence in Tianshan - there’s no denying that - but again, it’s the context that matters and gives it a purpose, so to speak.

Whereas physical violence in Zhanyi’s case was mainly about comic relief, in Tianshan’s case it’s often about two strong-willed personalities clashing (ch. 138, 160, 222):

Where ZZX slapping, punching or kicking JY is funny to us, HT’s character uses physical violence to overpower and dominate MGS. And it’s rather easy to call that kind of behavior abusive - but again, the nature of it shifts when put into its context.

HT had to use force to get through to MGS who was blinded by his suspicions and distrust due to bad past experiences. Neither of them was wrong and had reasons for acting the way they did. HT needed to assert control to turn MGS’s direction around and make him listen. MGS wasn’t going to yield to mere words, and while HT thought his stubbornness was good and showed he had principles, MGS was still not to ignore HT’s orders. HT took control by force, but I do think it was unavoidable and in a way helped to create a sense of security and trust. In some ways, HT acted like a parent and set strict boundaries for MGS. But again if you take all of that context away, HT’s behavior comes across quite darker and abusive.

Of course, it’s possible some people interpret the physical violence in Tianshan as abusive even in its context. And I can kind of see where those people are coming from even if I don’t personally read the story the same way. Even if in context, HT still clearly used physical force and didn’t give MGS an option. The thing is, though, I don’t really have a problem with HT behaving like he did. For the most part, I’m not bothered by HT being physically pushy or MGS more or less resisting him. It’s one of the things that appeals to me in Tianshan. And if their relationships became drastically different in that sense, I would find it quite out of character for them. However, that also means Tianshan is most probably always going to come across as abusive to some people.

To summarize, I don’t think either Zhanyi or Tianshan is abusive but the physical violence in them is different in nature. And that naturally results in people viewing the seemingly same acts differently. Some people don’t have a problem with physical violence when it comes to slapstick comedy (although, I have seen people calling ZZX abusive, too) but they do think HT’s kind of physical violence is different and actually abusive. Again, I don’t really agree about Tianshan but the “double standard” makes sense because they’re not the same.

In a way, “abusive” and “toxic” are in the eye of the beholder. And we all have different levels of tolerance for it before it starts to change our opinions about the fictional relationship. And I don’t have a problem with that - we all have our taste and what appeals to us personally. However, I’ve come to found out that when people are quick to cry “abusive” at every turn, the context is often forgotten or ignored altogether. The bigger picture. The question of “why is this happening this way?”. “Toxic” and “abusive” have become moral high horses of sorts to make people feel good about themselves and, if possible, to guilt-trip others in the process.

Thank you for your question, dear anon-san!

#19 days #tianshan #zhanyi #Zhan zheng xi #He Tian #answered ask

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kingbennyboyyy · 3 years

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benny's RWBY rewrite: the main 4

heya, i told y'all i'd be back on this pretty fast. truth be told, this is a rough transcription of my notes app from like 4am last night, because my brain wouldn't let me sleep until i wrote all of this down somewhere. just ADHD things, i guess.

anyway, let's get into the girls!

ruby rose:

- the youngest of the main 4, ruby is characterized by her naive nature contrasted with her combat prowess. i think that part of the allure the "red" trailer had was a new demographic being exposed to the idea of a little girl in a frilly skirt absolutely bodying a bunch of hell monsters. this contrast is one of the most striking elements of her character, at least in my opinion. i want to lean into this and have ruby be filled with conflict. she's described time and time again as a masterful wielder of an extremely dangerous weapon, and i think contrasting this solo power with an inability to make strategic and high-stakes decisions could be interesting. especially when forced into a leadership position, i'd love to see ruby grow into a child with a deadly weapon, to a leader with a deadly weapon.

- ruby's friendly and outgoing nature is one of her most defining traits, along with her optimism. she sees the good in everyone she comes across, and does her best to make sure that everyone is happy. nothing against her, but ruby isn't the most wise (using the D&D definition of the term). however, i think that she should be somewhat comparable to deku. she built her own weapon and taught herself how to use it, so i don't think it would be out of character for her to do something similar to velvet, taking notes of the interaction between people's semblances, weapons, and fighting styles. this plays into her strategic evolution- the more training she has in understanding how people fight, the better she can direct her allies and teammates.

- (for this section, i'm assigning names to the combo of ideas i describe) real roses rot: ruby is an idealist at heart. she wants to be a huntress because she wants to fight monsters and help people, and the simplicity of this desire speaks to her naivety as a character. she knows what she wants to be, but not yet what she has to be. as the series goes on, ruby should realize that life isn't all sunshine and rainbows, saving people and fighting monsters. sometimes, sacrifices have to be made, and sometimes the monsters look like friends. she has to learn that real roses rot eventually.

- silver eyes: i think that ruby's eyes have a lot of potential as a symbol. ignoring for the moment the fact that ruby's silver eyes literally mark her as a grim-killing machine, her eyes are a crucial part of her character. what she sees in people, the good that she's able to find in others, defines her. her inability to see the sacrifices that need to be made, and the evil in the people around her, should be something she overcomes.

weiss schnee:

- the resident ice queen, what struck me most about weiss at the beginning of the series was her awareness. ironically enough, the only other member of her team as aware of her place as she is is blake. she is extremely cognizant of the expectations placed upon her by her father, and by the SDC as a whole. thus, she is a perfectionist, but judges herself the most harshly. this perfection is evident in everything about her- her fighting style is precise, ballet-inspired, and clean. similarly to her struggle with her familial expectations, she struggles with the family semblance. i think that this struggle has the potential to symbolize a lot for weiss. exiting the bubble of high-class atlesian life presents a lot of struggles for weiss, some of which i'll get into later.

- weiss comes off as cold, and sometimes can be just plain mean, but this comes from a constant awareness of the fact that she is being watched. where her older sister, winter, is the paragon of atlas' military might, she is expected to be a similar paragon for the hunting capabilities of the schnees. for her, a favorable image cannot be cultivated without perfection and control. control is paramount in weiss' character: she often uses the same techniques that her father used on her to attempt to control others, but she should learn that it is impossible to control people through fear for long (perhaps by learning not to fear her own father). when not in control, she struggles to take direction for two distinct reasons: because she doesn't agree with the directions or director, or she doesn't believe she can perform to her director's standards.

- stained snow: something that bothered me about weiss' character was how quickly the racist history of her history was forgotten by the people around her. while potentially very uncomfortable, i think it's important to show how weiss' upbringing and surroundings have clouded her judgement. while canonically a member of her family was killed by the white fang, i think it would be much more compelling for her family to have pinned the murder on a faunus to save face. in reality, the murder was a power grab for her family. she has to realize the role the oppression and violence against people has in the maintenance of her privilege. in having to interact with the people wronged by the oppression that was supported her lifestyle, she will be confronted with a question: does she even want to represent the schnee family, or does she want to try to change the course of her family history?

- golden voice: in her promo (as far as i recall), we hear singing in front of guests at a party we can assume her family has thrown. i think that her voice has a lot of symbolic potential: despite presumably having been forced to bend to the whims of her father, weiss is not afraid to speak her mind. i think that her struggles with her semblance should be overcome through the use of her voice. this serves a dual purpose- for one, it shows that she can use her powerful voice to affect positive change instead of negative. secondly, it shows that she doesn't need to abide by her family's standards in order to succeed.

blake belladonna:

- mysterious and aloof, blake is the member of the team with the most things to hide. the estranged ex of the leader of a violent sect of the white fang (not the whole thing, good christ), a faunus-in-hiding, and closeted trashy romance connoisseur, blake is somewhat defined by her secrets. despite her young age, her life has been marred by conflict, and rather than face these challenges head-on, she would much rather turn tail and run. she's been forced to give up pieces of herself to help others, and in spite of her proclivity to flee and her outward apathetic appearance, she is a deeply sensitive character, and cares deeply for the suffering of others.

- read by others as aloof and disinterested, this impression couldn't be further from the truth. blake is considerate, insightful, and kind, but builds up a wall around herself as a result of being burned and used too many times. it's exhausting to care as much as blake does, and it's easier to pretend that she just doesn't. this facade can't last forever, though. i don't think blake should lash out in anger or violence. i think she should try to run, and if she can't, she should crumble rather than explode.

- the burden of fixing things: as a means of protecting herself, blake has taken to masking her emotions and avoiding conflict at all costs. she ran away from adam and his sect of the white fang, runs away from her identity as a faunus, and hides behind a wall to protect herself. afraid to be consumed by emotion and emulate the monsters she fights against, she has to learn that apathy is more dangerous than emotion. she has to choose whether she wants to risk being hurt to help people, or risk being useless to keep herself out of harm's way.

- shadowed footprints: blake's fighting style is one of my favorites just because of how dynamic it is. however, i think that leaning into her use of kicks would allow for a powerful piece of symbolism. she literally leaves shadows behind as a part of her semblance, and she runs away from her problems a lot. but she has the potentially to do a lot of good when she decides to stand her ground. letting people in will make this task less frightening, but not any easier. in addition, i think this evolution should be accented with mixing her shadows with dust: launching frozen statues of herself at people as projectiles, running at people with flaming clones, things like that.

yang xiao long:

- ruby's older sister and the resident tank of the group, i kind of see yang like a much more concentrated version of ruby. as the older sister of a family marked by the absence of parents, she's gone through a lot. she had to step up when raven left and when summer died, and when tai was grieving. yang is kind of like katara, but instead of embracing the stricter part of maternal responsibility, she'd much rather pretend everything's fine to protect her sister from the sadness she was subjected to. yang surrounds herself with people because she's petrified of being abandoned again. she likes when people are close, and doesn't want them to leave.

- i'd call yang a herbo. not a bimbo, because she doesn't ooze traditional femininity, but a herbo because of her hard-headed and combative nature. she is hot-tempered and brash, prone to not thinking things through all the way, and being motivated by emotion rather than logic. her semblance is literally her being empowered by her anger. despite her caring nature, she tends to not think through what being ruled by emotion does to the people around her. she's more concerned with end results than the steps taken to reach them. she can push herself and others too far, and not know what she did wrong.

- controlled burn: as previously stated, yang is ruled by emotions- she fights when she's angry, cries when she's sad, and radiates joy when she's happy. however, she is often so blinded by her overwhelming emotions that she fails to consider the consequences of her actions. yang should have trouble controlling her semblance, specifically when it activates, and should burn hot and fast. combat-wise, she should ironically have the least stamina of all of her teammates, opting to take people down as quickly as possible to combat this. however, as she learns to be more considerate and thoughtful, she should be able to control her semblance. she gains the ability to burn slower, storing energy until the perfect moment to strike.

- open palms: yang punches people a lot. a lot. i think it'd be fun if she leaned into giving people slugs in the shoulder as a sign of affection. she uses her hands in combat to keep enemies away from the people she cares about. she should also use these hands to keep the people close to her nearby. grabbing people's clothing to stop them from leaving, shaking hands with friends, maybe even kissing the hand of her love interest. yang should use the same hands she clenches into fiery fists to embrace the friends and family she has.

hopefully this didn't run too long! i had a lot to say, and i hoped to articulate it in a way that made sense. if you've come this far, thank you, and feel free to send me any questions you have! i'll be covering team JNPR at some point soon, and talking about how i think the team can function as an interesting foil to team RWBY. until then, thank you again!

#benny's RWBY rewrite #RWBY #characters #ruby rose #weiss schnee #blake belladonna #yang xiao long

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octania · 4 years

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Icy summer explosion (part 1)

Bakugo x Reader

Shoto x Reader

Genre: Romance, Drama, Comedy

Type: Series

Words: 2200

Characters in this part: Bakugo, Shoto, Deku, Kaminari, Kirishima.

Short description: A tense summer love drama between you, Bakugo and Shoto. It all starts in summer paradise, but where will it end and how?

————————————————————————————–

The show was a big success . But this one was slightly different than the others, and that’s why they all were still super hyped when it was over. The heroes were now in their third year of education and were already a favorite among society. Never before have so many quality heroes been in the same class. The show was intended to educate and inspire young people who have just gotten their quirks, and what better way of doing it than to allow them to spend some time with their idols.

“I can’t believe they are giving us a day off, here!!”- screamed Deku.

“I can’t believe it neither man. Also without supervision? If you ask me, that’s hella strange.”- Kirishima replied as they were rushing to the changing room to take off their costumes.

“I told you assholes, Aizawa is done with us after the stunt we pulled. This is his smart way of getting back at us. Luring us to go outside alone, in a foreign country, on a sea side no less. He knows we are stupid enough to drown by ourselves. Specially Kaminari , idiot forgets that he needs air when he is under water.”- Bakugo said sarcastically.

“Hay! That was only that one time! I was trying to catch that fish, it had such pretty colors!”- Kaminaris cheeks turned red.

“Maybe if they let us off the hook once in a while, he would not try to grab every moment so desperately , ever thought about that?”- Shoto Todoroki said seriously, grabbing his backpack, walking to Kaminari, pulling his nose like a child.

“You don’t follow rainbow fish around ,though.”- he laughed.

“How about we grab something to eat first, then go to the beach?”- continued Shoto.

x x x

Y/N walked down the streets of Camogli in Portofino. It was quiet, she escaped the wild screams and beast crowd from the show, but could still see them in front of her eyes. She could feel a rush of adrenaline again, the same one she felt in the moment the heroes stepped into the crowd. They smiled as they looked into the curious and excited eyes of the younger generations. Although only Kirishima, Deku, Kaminari, Shoto and Bakugo were present, it was more than enough for her. Her cheeks turned red and a shy smile took a position on her face, remembering a pair of wild red eyes. She couldn’t help herself, she followed him throughout the show non-stop. His arrogant attitude, energetic approach, wild character, sharp tongue … damned be this fetish for bad guys. But he was not evil, he was one of the best heroes from whom incredible things were expected. The redness on her cheeks intensified.

This trip was nothing but perfect. Them , the sea, the surroundings…heaven. She arrived to her hotel, but she didn’t go in. She was filled with adrenaline, filled with excitement, she could not possibly go to sleep now. Also, it was a beautiful summer night, peaceful, just right for a night swim. Because of the show, everyone is on the main square, which means, the beach is empty. She can finally have that butt naked swim she wanted. She giggled, already jumping down the big rocks that led to the beach. Taking her shoes off, her feet landed on the warm sand on the beach. The moonlight reflected itself on the surface of the water. The moon , big and yellow, proudly stood in the center of the sky, welcoming her to the scene. She smiled as the waves of the sea touched her bare feet. Not waiting a moment longer, she took off her white dress, letting it fall down on the ground, remaining only in her panties. She ran , jumping into the sea, embracing the cold feeling on her skin, swimming and diving along the shore.

x x x

They were finally free. Even though it was just for one night, they were living every moment to its fullest potential. Eating, joking, talking, trying to light a fire, but it ended by them thanking the God they were surrounded by water because they almost managed to burn down the little bamboo houses that were beach bars. They needed to find dry firewood, but since they were on a sandy beach, it was no easy task. Kaminari decided to make his task easier by hiding behind beach bars and tearing pieces of bamboo off them. But that was not the end. When he had collected a couple of pieces, he decided to prove himself a little more. He rubbed his fingers, letting a little electricity out on the dry bamboo. Unfortunately, he let go a little too much, and the electricity also reached the bamboo on the beach bar. The bottom of the beach bar began to burn. He panicked, tossing the other burning pieces aside and trying to kick the sand at the burning bar. He didn’t even realize that the bamboo he had thrown was now spreading fire on the wooden chairs next to the bar. Everyone ran up, extinguishing the chair before it spreads more. After putting out the fire, they scolded him, realizing that it would be best if they didn’t use their quirks, not tonight. So, they needed to light the fire in a natural way, with sticks. Bakugo had no patience for that. After seeing Kirishima fail for the third time, he reached for the wood, which they carefully stacked on top of each other.

“Idiot, get lost! You are fucking everything up! “- he pushed him abruptly with his foot, so that Kirishima fell face down into the sand. He reached for the wood, as small explosions began to appear from his palm. Before he could do anything, an icy feeling permeated his body.

“Oi! What the fuck?! I will kill you!”- he growled from the depths of his throat. From his palm to the forearm, everything was covered with a thick layer of ice.

“We said no quirks…specially yours…we don’t want to attract unwanted attention.” – Shoto said calmly, not even looking at Bakugo.

“Oh yeah?! And this ice just appeared according to Gods natural plans?! Screw you!!”- the ice exploded from his hand, while his fists were now smoking. Beneath his white-red hair, two serious multicolored eyes could be seen. He watched Bakugo walk toward him, burning with rage. He clenched his fist, ready to counterattack. But before the situation developed for the worse, a shout of happiness was heard beside them. A faint light spread across the beach.

“I did it! I did it!” - Kirishima, who at no time cared about the situation that was developing next to him, managed to light a fire, which is now slowly igniting.

“The spark from Bakugo’s fists fell and made a little ignition, I was blowing, and it started!” - he explained like a child, jumping next to the now beautifully spread fire.

“See, we did it! Come on man, we are here to enjoy ourselves. Chill. Come, we can kick the ball a little in the shallow water.”- Kaminari appeared behind Bakugo, placing his hand on his shoulder.

“Tch..whatever.”- he clenched his fist, shaking Kaminaris hand off, still targeting Todoroki with his killer gaze, but the smoke from his palms now disappeared.

"Consider yourself lucky,“ he turned, moving towards the water.

“That’s it, let’s go!” Kirishima shouted, kicking the ball and running towards them.

“Don’t let him get to you… It’s been years, you know he will never change. Don’t let him ruin your good time.”- Deku said to Shoto with a faint smile. Shoto said nothing. Although it is true that he was already numb to Bakugo’s behavior, his outbursts really shouldn’t have always gone unpunished. Just because everyone has ignored his behavior because they’ve gotten used to the way he treats others, doesn’t mean he should be tolerated forever. He felt his left palm getting warm. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Deku was right, now was not the time to teach a naughty brat some manners. They are here to have fun. He opened his eyes and smiled.

"You’re right. Come on, let’s join them.”- He stood up, taking his blue shirt off, uncovering his hard muscles.

“Yeah!”- Deku followed his example.

They entered the water and joined the others. The ball barely withstood the strong blows. From the game, this grew into a competition. No one wanted to drop the ball. They threw themselves frantically, energetically, striking it with all their might in someone else’s direction, just so it wouldn’t touch the surface of the water. Bakugo relentlessly aimed at Shoto. He aimed at the head and didn’t even hide it. Every time Shoto would jump and hit the ball, avoiding Bakugos attempt, the veins on Bakugos’s arms and neck would pop out. After a while, Shoto no longer wanted to just carelessly ignore Bakugos attacks. When Deku threw the ball towards him, he swung with full force towards the Bakugo, who dodged the ball just in time, and it flew far out to sea.

“I slapped your mama on the ass with the same force,Shoto, but she didn’t dodge it.”- Bakugo said with a nasty smile, provoking even more. But he didn’t wait for a response. He ran through shallow water then jumped in, moving his strong hands through it. The waves were not working in his favor, as they were carrying the ball more and more away. He sped up, pushing the water more fiercely. He could barely see in front of himself as the sea was splashing in his eyes. Suddenly, his face landed on something soft. Shocked, he pushed the strange thing with his hand, grabbing it. He shook his head, shocked, trying to see properly.

“What the f…”

He eyes almost fell out, jaw dropped, cheeks fired up and he could feel his heart in his throat. The strange thing in front of him was a woman, and the thing he just rubbed his whole dumb face in and decided to push it , were her boobs. A pair of eyes were looking back at him with the same shock in them. He pulled back his hand, as he tried to speak but a wave landed on his face once more, making him almost choke on water. He started coughing, trying to catch air.

“Omg are you ok???”- the woman screamed, trying to hit his back with her hand, but considering they were both up to their neck under water, it was no help. Her desperate try to quickly get closer to him to help, ended up making the situation even worse, as he turned his head too quickly, bumping his forehead directly in hers.

“Fucking shit!!!”- he yelled as the poor girl cried out, grabbing her head. She felt dizzy, barely staying conscious. The pain and the raging water made her vision blurry, but she fought to stay awake.

“Idiot! Stay still!”- Bakugo was filled with panic, as he reached for the girl, trying to keep her above water. His arms grabbed her, trying to pull her on his chest. But there was one more problem. As he pulled her on his chest, barely keeping himself above the water, he realized her body was naked, and her tits were now above the surface, pushing on his jaw.

“What are you doing!?”- The girl screamed once more. Before he could even think of an answer, let alone give one, a sharp pain filled his cheek, as the girl slapped him. He was now so confused he just wanted to drown. But he realized she will actually drown literally if he lets her go.

“Stop moving!”- he yelled annoyed,not even looking at her any more, pushing her around , placing her on his back, putting her arms around his neck as he held them firmly with one hand, and started swimming with the other. He was swimming hard with his legs, trying to reach the beach. He could hear people yelling. Guys. The rest of the gang were now yelling to him, waving. He sped up once more, and in that moment of confusion, something struck him. Her boobs once more were squeezing on him, on his back. His face became one big expression of embarrassment and anger . Finally, he reached the shallow water, standing on his feet, grabbing the girl legs, carrying her on his back.

“What the fuck?!?!”- Deku and Kaminari screamed in the same time.

“Look everyone, Bakugo caught a mermaid!”- Kirishima laughed.

“Shut the fuck up, you idiot!!!!”- Bakugo yelled.

“Oh my god, she is …she is naked..”- Deku yelled, automatically running to get a hoodie.

“Well that explains the nose bleed and a “sea shell” hidden in his pocket.”- Kirishima could not help himself, he was now laughing his ass off.

“Quit it you moron, help me, she hit her head!!”- Bakugo, indeed with a nose bleed, yelled.

The only one who said nothing was Shoto. He stood there in astonishment, when suddenly an ice wall formed around Bakugo and Y/N, closing the view on their bodies. The only thing visible was their faces.

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saccarinepasserine · 4 years

Text

so these are like The Very Basics of Deity Finding™**:

1. research

this isn’t a first step, this is the most important part of deity work and will factor into everything you do.

finding a deity you click with can be hard. to make it a little easier, instead of looking through lists one pantheon at a time, look for domains you connect with. poetry, magic, the moon, nature, agriculture, etc, and it’ll be narrowed down and less overwhelming. after that, you have to weed out which gods are from closed practices or cultures — vodou, most indigenous practices, etc are closed/require initiation — so that you know not to interact with those gods unless you’re part of the culture or initiated into it. if you think one of those closed deities is reaching out to you, you’re wrong, cleanse yourself and your area immediately and put up wards. once you’ve finished clearing out the closed deities, look at the ones that are left open. if any name in particular sticks out or feels different to you, do deeper research, go into multiple websites and books to find out who they are. if you feel connected enough to them, it’s time to go to the next part of deity work:

2. contact

this can be a very dangerous step if you don’t know what you’re doing. have wards or other protections set up and sturdy, make your intentions extremely clear so that you don’t draw any lesser or malevolent spirits into your space by trying to communicate with your chosen deity/ies.

when contacting a deity, going into it blind is an extremely bad idea and, in my opinion, intensely disrespectful. do your research, know who you’re talking to, and give some kind of offering beforehand. offerings and how to dispose of them will differ depending on the culture the deity comes from — some allow you to eat them, others don’t; some prefer alcohol, others want prayer or meditation, art or rocks or a lit candle maybe. most gods will understand that you’re only using what’s available to you if you clarify that you mean no disrespect and can’t offer much more. a good rule of thumb is if it’s something you want for yourself, give it to the god/s, to show that it’s a sacrifice you’re making to appease them. using culturally accurate offerings helps as well, though it’s not always necessary (this wholly depends on the god, you will be able to tell by your intuition whether or not the deity approves of your offering).

to actually communicate with the deity, there’s multiple different techniques. prayer, divination, godphoning (not recommended for beginners and also not everyone is able to do it, don’t feel bad if you can’t and don’t let it get to your head if you can), etc. some gods may prefer a certain kind of divination if you can help it — when i interact with the irish gods, they much prefer me to use ogham, and the norse ofc prefer runes. my personal buffer for all pantheons is tarot because it’s easiest to get everything in one reading if need be. pendulums are a very good place to start with deity communication via divination because they’re simple and easy to use and the deity can channel themselves directly into the tool rather than just influencing which one you pick up. this part is largely preferential, and will depend on your skills/preferences and your deity/ies’.

3. respect

always gotta have 3, a good number. but also, as obvious as this may seem, a lot of people don’t follow this! so i’m going to outline it anyway.

a lot of this can depend on your relationship with your deity, but some things are toeing a line that should stay uncrossed at all costs. remember: these are deities, ancient entities who can and will fuck you all the way up. infantilising them, treating them are soft and fluffy and rainbows and unicorns and shit, ignoring that they are powerful beings: that is blatant disrespect, and also just a weird thing to do, imo. don’t use them as spell ingredients, aka don’t only give them offerings or pray to them when you need something from them. that’s selfish, and not how you build a relationship with a deity. some deities will allow for nicknames or name calling, odin is very commonly called the old bastard or the old man, but other deities don’t like that kind of thing, so it’s best to ask them and get a feel for their energy surrounding the question before settling on a nickname. your relationship with a deity will very likely not be exactly the same as another person’s relationship with the same one — deities appear to people differently and while there may often be similarities, there are just as often differences. i’ve never met someone with a similar relationship with odin as i have, and that’s okay! it’s still odin, all of our experiences are valid even if they don’t exactly follow a pattern. deities with multiple domains may be with you for one thing but with another person for something different. disrespecting a person’s relationship with their god is almost the same as disrespecting the god themselves; everybody has differences, and so long as the relationship is healthy on both ends, it’s completely valid.

**this post was written to help a person in a discord server i’m in. these are just my tips, i’m in no way peddling this as the only way to do deity work. if you have other tips, feel free to add them, but if you fundamentally disagree with anything i’ve said: please keep it to yourself. i don’t have any energy to be arguing. just keep scrolling.

terfs/swerfs/radfems/gender crits/nazis/bigots/etc will be blocked on sight

#thistle’s utterings #deity work #devotion

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softsweetsuffering · 3 years

Text

OC LIST (New)

Trey:

Has an ability to mimic or amplify abilities/powers of others, as well as telekinesis

Was previously part of a group of people who also had abilities, however after mistreatment and other issues within the group, he left.

He's got a good wealth behind him.

Extremely gentle

Handsome ;)

Loves photography

Has lavender hair

Respects all

'Secretly' Plays violin

Lowkey a sugardaddy

Hamrish Benat:

Has four eyes!

Pink and blonde hair

He loves parkour (as in climbing buildings and leaping around in gyms)

Has PTSD (There are two AUS of which I default as to how he obtained it)

Ready to deck a bitch

Trained nurse

Loves teddy bears and fuzzy pink socks.

Also goes by Hami/Hayden

Andy peters:

Strong, kind.

The quiet Big Type, doesn't always talk, but his heart is in good places.

Wishes he could do more

Buff + Tall

Wears a pair of dogtags.

Has red streaks in his hair for the fun of it

Is extremely brotherly to Adrian

is friends with Hami

Adrian Géarán:

Nervous Malnutritioned anxiety filled tired mess

Has emotionally linked fire abilities (does not like having them)

likes to make little robots!

Easily bullied

Missing an arm

Struggles with normal life

Blames himself for Andys death

Looks unintentionally vaguely like Fry from Futurama

Chris:

Leader of a summer camp for kiddos

Huge fan of the outdoors

Loves to garden

Red head with freckles

Healthy!

Good build, a little on the below-average male height

Likes to hike

Loves kids

Strong but pacifistic

Great smile

Surprisingly a little shy around other adults

Bisexual

Himbo energy

Douglas Connelly:

Just a regular chubby guy

His chub is only important because this man gives some of the best hugs, he's like a marshmallow

He is outwardly confident about his size, even if it sometimes worries him internally

He loves music, loves to groove in the kitchen while making snacks

Always open for roommates and new friends (one of his roommates is a hot bartender called Donovan)

A bit awkward but he tries his best.

Tucker:

Badass

Bunny hybrid (ears :3)

White hair

Likes to wear denim jackets

Fast runner

Has had experience working in the force

Izekiel Iris:

Bruised and abused in a facility

Was turned from human into A being of made of Paint (Useful? no. Fun? yes. Rainbow blood anyone?)

Loves painting

Wallflower

Easily anxious

Loves to draw on his own arms

Matthew Libelle:

Aka Matty Very delayed development wise as well as Autistic

Very much a texture lad, soft blankets are his thing.

Doesn't like loud sounds ( who does honestly).

Tries his hardest to function normally but it's hard.

Watermelon colours are his fav. Green hoodie is his fav.

Has watermelon pink hair.

Gale:

Eldritch bab

Was cursed by a group of guys who were messing with magics they didn't understand

Did in fact murder said group of guys and is traumatised by the idea he has become a monster

hears voices

Has Tendrils that have burst out of his back

Has the ability to move from this realm to the Eldritch planes and back. (is terrified of said planes)

Doesn't have a home

Black curly hair- frizzy- shimmers like Slick oil

Shy type kinda, tall Pale. cold.

Kinda wishes he could just go back to normal.

Would really like to eat some fresh warm bread.

Rowan maverick

Was abandoned as a teen

Also known as Rogue/Red.

Lost some of their tongues making them mute

Trained Assassin.

Previously part of a cult

Addict to painkillers (Caused by the mental issues from the cult and the loss of tongue.)

Bad with Physical affection

Could use a friend

Jace

Cop/Ex Cop.

Laid off after an incident

Has a pubby called Otis

Likes the occasional beer

Dad energy

Issac Merewen

Was previously a Teacher - grade 11/12s

Kidnapped and kept Drugged the hell up.

Was given the new name: Jess/Jack. AKA The Jester

Now has Amnesia problems .(Anomic aphasia)

Was stored Cramped in box.

Needs glasses. (Long sighted. Cant see Infront of him for shit without glasses. He specifically likes round ones :3)

Natrually Blonde

He was very inspired by the Chitty Chitty bang bang scene, “Doll on a music box”.

- He naturally has two different coloured eyes :D

-He likes podcast n occasionally audiobooks. Its good for learning/remembering words, and way easier than straining his eyes. Although it is upsetting occasionally when he can remember more of a book/podcast he’s into more than real words or real-life things.

Tyrone Li

Incubus.

Wise, Patient, caring.

Brown tattoos wind up his hips and torso, curling around his chest around his heart, and around his back, flaring at his neck.

Glasses.

Loves plants and flora

Sex lost meaning when he was younger. He wants true intimacy again but he wants to find the right person..

Glamors hide the following features:

Tail, brown that gradients into Green, Leaf like tip.

Horns, curled. (green tipped :0)

Glamors break usually after a certain period of time regardless of feeding, however, during bad situations/fight the body may unglamour to reserve the last of its energy.

Caspian:

Basically immortal but can die (Reincarnations)

Not a pacifist, but not instantly into violence

He was blessed by the Heart of the Ocean (Shes wonderful <3)

Can control water, can do minor healing with water

Can make water bubble/ boil when angry

Glowy veins when powers are active

He has had many many lives

Soft..caring..Doesnt remember alot of his past..

Doesn't know how many times hes died

Doesn't have alot of family or friends

Goes on many adventures

Elio Solren.

Nickname: Sunshine

Good lad.

Is a shapeshifter Dealt with being told he was happy and always upbeat. People leaving or ignoring him whenever he wasn't started building this sense of need to be happy all the time for others.

Lots of struggles with self image. Being perfect. Appeasing everyone. Poor self body love/self body image.

Is scared about The hate from humans about shifters. The jealousy and fear about them being able to hide behind other faces.

Smiles to hide the pain

Punk/hipster vibes

Intricate golden tattoos

Doesn't open up easily

Doesn't like to admit to being in pain

Kotori

AKA Corey

Owl lad!

Bright yellow piercing eyes. But is totally blind. (Face scars)

Loves music.

Plays the uke.. hums..sings sometimes.

Big wings- like barn owl.

Likes to perch in trees

Jeremey Caulfield

Winter baby

Was left bleeding in the snow at some point

Father Lovely old man (John)

Mother died (Ellie)

Birthday December 23h

Blue eyes

Black hair

Russel

Box boy

Glasses

Red hair

Real sweetheart

Really needs more dev ; ;

Jules

Loves tofu n chicken

Touchstarved

Stubborn af

Kicks ass!

Has Sass

Wears binders/sports bras for Lotsa running n such

Black hair big messy pigtails

Dark brown eyes.

Has a navy bear sleeps with it ‘doesn't care’ about it but does

Gymnast/kickboxing. Bandages around hands

Loved swinging bars since being a kiddo

Trampolines!!

Participates in Underground fight ring to make easy money

Sleeps on just a mattress

Has a laptop for study work but she's slowly giving up on bothering.

(She's not one originally but Werewolf Jules is one of my fav things)

Miles

Part mole, part orphan

Lives underground

Very light-sensitive

Is colourblind

Absolute nerd

loves tinkering with things

is scared of humans

very foggy memories of his parents.

Leilah/ Lei

Can make/control shadows.

Owns a Magic skull(Speaks to it)

Lives in the woods

Wears a skull to spook off people from her woods

Has Tattoos that are shadow/absorb shadows

Kinda bad at maintaining friendships

Emotionally Distant

Wears a cloak.

Bao Ketsuyki

Blood magic bab

Short

East Asian.

Pink/red medium length hair

Big pretty red flower scar from blood magic use on her shoulder/ back.

Little bit foolish, little bit reckless.

Has almost died a few times from her magic use.

Oran Audun

Pale

Punk

Irish

Plays Guitar

Writes in journal, occasionally song lyrics, occasionally little messy ink drawings.

Easy to aggravate (On edge) however is trying to learn how to meditate and be calmer

Covered head to toe in scars but still tries to find confidence in himself. He doesn't find it unattractive, but he feels like others have no need to witness his scars.

loves wearing leather/fabric wrist bracelets

Unwelcome hands have used his body as a research object

Very very against physical contact, needs to break into it.

Ray

Social worker works mainly with kids.

Has a Shy guy tattoo.

His family consists of a Good ma, younger sister, and super baby brother

Dad died but dad was good.

Dirty blonde hair, kinda messy

Short, 5’

Socks the pupper is his helpful lil buddy (hes so round and white and fluffy)

Super dad vibes.

Owen

a hockey player n gymnast.

His mother died when he was about 9.

has an older brother who is a bit of a big jock type

quite protective and caring of his two much younger siblings.

ended up in a nasty scuffle though at some point during his more competitive years in Hockey

This leads to following his passion for Gym

Pole vault, the rings, trampoline.

Still plays hockey among mates or strangers on the weekends in the cold months tho

Ends up taking a position as a gym teacher for kids after taking a childhood course since he was so good at it.

actually a really sweet guy

Soft but likes his sport and jokes.

He can hold his own somewhat more than he appears.

has blue tips/stripes in his blonde hair.

He often wears varsity jackets or baseball tees. As well as a couple other sport wear shirts. (A. Good few are from his bro ofc. Free merch)

He's short but he's got a fairly decent build on him.

He's got a surprisingly good tackle if you aren't careful. And a good grip strength.

Nohea

but everyone calls him Noah.

Works at a Boba tea cafe..

likes to surf.

has an Epic board.

Back and shoulders all littered with lines and tic tac toe-like scars.

he's the type to brush off any questions and change topic while smiling. But not super bubbly. Just. Go lucky.

has a few friends who like to hang out at the cafe

Was in a surfing accident that involved a lot of rocks.

Ila

4’8 Soft. Short.

Ready to protect.

Loves to bake!!!

Smells like a vanilla cupcake most of the time

Isn't afraid to fight although isn't trained

likes Yoga ( and yoga pants)

Needs glasses but doesn't wear them (tsk tsk, unless tryign to read recipes)

Dyes hair silver/white

Jake

Homeless

Snake hybrid can transform his lower half from human legs to tail

Also has fangs, and therefore venom

He's got a lot of sass

Can be a bit of an asshole but soft around the right people

Isn't used to kindness

doesn't cry easily

Steals food

Mac Hiato

Also known as Caf

5’6

Very Grumpy.

Very often has bags under his eyes.

Hoodie is life

Insomnia has serious trouble sleeping.

Has nightmares of strangulation

Occasionally sufferers sleep paralysis

Scared of dark- night lights

Owns a mouse called Bean

Does freelancing webdesgisn/coding as job.

Sits like a gay.

Lives on coffee

Minorly Lactose intolerant

Has One bad eye

Neema

Egyptian

Mechanic

Her dad's a mechanic and used to bring her to work all the time

dead mum: which affected her ability to emote.

Works part time at the garage

Dad likes to bring gifts on their small catch-ups that happen every once in a while.

Sheeee. Suffers a bit of resting bitch face.

she's kinda stunted emotionally because she was raised by her dad, who, isn't great with emotions himself being a man's man and all.

She's very much a tomboy gal. Doesn't exactly get dressed up. because she finds it tiresome and not "her".

Also if she did/does have friends the nickname Nemo 100% crops up because it's sadly alll too fitting but also kinda sweet.

She's actually really into cars and mechanics. Which is one of the few good reasons her dad and her are close.

She's hard to get to know, very quiet. And if you're someone who dominates the conversation she won't speak up much, but you'll be surprised to how much she's listened.

Just because she looks tired and done doesn't actually mean she feels that way.

Samson (Lemonade boi)

His name is Samson, but he prefers Sun/Sunny. (Other more affectionate nicknames include Lemondrop and Sunflower.)

He really likes going out to markets and stuff like that, little stalls or knick knack shops to find the odd kinda items.

He also really likes wandering big forests. (Hes got some o that fae energy) He collects various cool stones/rocks/plants from some of them. He also has some small vials from waterfalls and ponds he’s encountered)

He wants to practice magic to become a witch! He loves the candles and rocks and other cool things that come with the craft. (He inherited things from his father)

He really likes loose fitting shirts too, like flowy things, ones with sleeves that drape past your fingers, or has extra fabric on the bottom that dangle down past hips. (Sometimes they come from the ladies section just because they’re softer and have more variety. Others from op shops and other niche little stores.)

He bought a cologne from a witch that looks cursed but the only curse is that it makes the one who puts it on smell like citrus..so not much of curse. (The bottle looks fuckin neato tho)

He looves fizzy drinks. Doesn’t mind his alcohol either, however it takes a surprising amount to get him on his ass despite looking like a serious lightweight.

He’s pretty average in build, bit of muscle in his arms, some fat on his thighs. Slight pouch of a tum (cause no ones flat and thats unrealistic :<)

He’s about 5′4. So not tall, but not the shortest of the short.

He kinda likes to backpack about. Not staying in places long if they get boring. Which means he is kinda jack of all trades when it comes to work, offering to fix things for pay, lots of casual work doing various things.(One of his favorites was helping a little old lady run a paint shop.)

He occasionally snorts when he laughs and tries not to.

He has his ears pierced, and he has a little yellow gemed stud in his nose.

The ring around his neck he found in the middle of a patch of mushrooms.

He has a couple other tattoos. One of them is of bubbles up his wrist :3 He also has some stars on his ankle, and a sunflower on one of his fingers on his left hand.

He’s not super in to gardening but he does have his lemon tree. He also wants to grow some mandarins

His eyes look silver in a lot of lights, but occasionally there’s some strange hints of yellow, and other times blue.

He has freckles!!!! that look alot like bubbles ;)

He has a twin brother called Fraser.

Scrunches his nose

Hides his laughter behind his hand

#OC List #ocs #god this took forever #B's Ocs #my list #oc list new #fuck me ; ;#im not gonna tag all of them.. its not worth it..#thanks for the reminder anon

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staycatcher · 5 years

Text

SKZ React to! Not Being Your Bias/Favorite

@staytion-nine‘s request: if you do reactions... skz reacting to the reader having a different bias please? and like if you can, make it really extra cuz skz is all about being extra! XD

Pairing: Reader x OT9 (different reader ocs for each member of course: ^P)

Au: idol & non aus

Genre: fluff and crack~👀🤠

Rated T for hella swearing, kissing and an oversaturation of dumbassery (as requested lmao)

Word Count: 4.4k (in total, so approximately 488 words per member~)

A/n: this one sure was challenging for me to write🥵🙈😂 So I’d love to hear any feedback or ‘reaction’ you have!!🤗 My reqs are open, click on the ‘request’ link if you’re interested~ I really hope I did you justice, Arya!! I love you to pieces!!💛

(P.S. The memes are stolen!~ don’t tell the meme police plz:~()

😲👀✨~

*+:｡.｡~

Chan *+:｡.｡~

“You’re not my favorite, though.” You clarified nonchalantly, continuing to scroll through your phone, not looking up. That is, until you hear him take in a breath, clearly not expecting the unnecessary clarification.

“Who is your favorite then?!?” Chan sounded offended, beginning to bounce his leg in lowkey distress, his unusually wide eyes studied your face to gauge your reactions. He was not expecting to care so much about something like this, yet here he is. Seeing his anticipation in the corner of your eyes is when you realize your mistake. Your natural directness fucked you over yet again.

He sounded too affected, totally unlike him to care so much about something like this. It made you want to avoid the topic now. Just ignore, just ignore him. He doesn’t have to know. Pretend you didn’t hear him-

“Y/n!!”

You totally~ didn’t hear anything at all, pretend that your dash is interesting and like you’re reading it, ‘oh wow how interesting! Totally have never seen a bunch of words before-‘

“Just tell me, I won’t be mad- I swear!” Chan practically begged, becoming antsier and antsier on the couch next to you. But you knew no matter how you answered it wouldn’t be good. You knew he was just saying that to get you to tell him. However, the atmosphere was getting heavier and heavier with each silent second, you couldn’t bear to not saying anything to him, especially when he acts this. Well... you’ve never seen him act like this.

You took a deep breath and as you slowly inched your neck back up, instantly making eye contact with Chan. The two of you just shared a staring match for a little while longer before you finally gave in.

“It’s… it’s baby Jeonginnie-”

“JEONGIN!!?!!- NO!!- Y-YOU CANT MEAN YANG JEONGIN?!-“

That’s when you run. You fucking book it. Jumping out of the armchair, skirting around the coffee table and nearly slipping off your socks onto the linoleum floor of the kitchen. You, very surprisingly, regain balance with unexpected luck and book it down the hallway. Inevitably, your top speed and superb navigation of your apartment won’t matter for long. There's only so much of the apartment you could run to distance yourself. It’s only one level, with only so many rooms.

When Cuddly Chan gets his prey you are done for. Never have you been so suffocated with affection in your life. An over-saturation of cuddles and tickles in the form of an attack. It was terrifying; terrifyingly cute. The cuteness just added to the suffering you endured at the hand of Chan.

“How could you like a fetus more than me?!?” He whined when he decided he was done tickling you, switching tactics to snuggling into you and latching on tight like a vice-gripped koala. You don’t even like Jeongin like that, but if you get cuddles and tickles, what he doesn’t know won’t kill him right? It might kill you though.

“...Am I your favorite now?~”

“Hmmm… I don’t know!! I think you’ll have to cuddle me some more to help me make my decision.”

*+:｡.｡~

Woojin *+:｡.｡~

“Honey bear~~ I’m home!!” You sing, before ripping off your worn sneakers and plush jacket before clumsily hanging it up on the hook by the door. You were still in full work uniform, apron and all, and reeking of coffee and sweets.

Strangely, you’re met with silence. A rare response from him. Usually, you’re met with running your direction, a bear hug, and a kiss on each cheek. Perhaps he was upset? There’s no way he could be with you; at least, you thought. The two of you were all kisses and rainbows when you talked last. So, maybe, he's not even here like he promised?

When you turn the corner is when you see him, and is also when he decides to greet you.

“SEUNGMIN?? Why Seungmin?!?” Woojin grilled you upon your arrival into the living room, pacing around in front of your hand-me-down couch, hands thrown out in frustration. He actually looks distressed and you have no idea what’s going on.

“What do you mean Seungmin?! ‘Why Seungmin’ what?!” You were now equally bewildered as him. Why was he so distressed all of a sudden about his bandmate? Even more confusingly, what was with his accusatory tone towards you on the subject?

“Why Seungmin and not me?!”

“What are you talking about?! Are you drunk?? It’s 2pm on a Wednesday!!”

“No I’m not drunk, I’m perfectly sober!! I just thought I was your favorite.” And then Woojin did something you’ve never seen him do your entire time of knowing him. He dramatically turns away from you, nose pointed up. The most bratty thing you’ve ever seen in your entire life. You fucking lost it; you shouldn’t have but you did. You laughed so hard you cried. Your stomach fucking ached. You could barely even see him through the tears.

“What’s so funny?!?”

You tried to breathe something out but only ended up letting out a wheeze, you decided to lean against the wall for support and try again. “It’s just- your reaction!-“

“But why Seungmin?!” Woojin poutily demanded, whiny like a little kid, coming up to you. His insistence only made your unattractive laughter stronger. You eventually answered him once the tears and wheezes left your body.

This truly was too much. You couldn’t even get mad at Hyunjin for ratting you out. Hell, you might even take him and Seungmin out to get some ice cream, your treat. This made your entire week.

*+:｡.｡~

Minho *+:｡.｡~

“The hell- what ~is~ this!!?” Minho interrupts loudly over the music, bringing a halt to yours and Hyunjin’s spontaneous dance party. You quickly run to pause the music, getting an excuse to avoid eye contact with him. You knew from his tone you were in trouble.

“...random dance party?!” You and Hyunjin somehow managed to reluctantly answer at the same time, even with your backs turned from each other.

“With Hyunjin?!” Minho looked severely shocked and personally offended that there was dancing involved and he was not apart of the equation. What’s more; you were doing it alone with Hyunjin instead!

“...well. I just wanted to do it… with Hyunjin.” You answered softly as you slowly took your strides back to them, watching your white-turned-cream sneakers get close to theirs. There was no way you could get out of this, not that you’re making it any better. It already was a big hole, now it’s a hole made of quicksand.

“Just with Hyunjin?!!”

Welp, no going back now. You decided to look up now, catching a brave spark and riding with it.

“Well.. yeah!” You tried to keep it lighthearted. Maybe you could get out of this easier if you acted like it wasn't that big of a deal, because it really wasn’t.

Hyunjin just straight up gawked at the situation, eyes going back and forth between you and Minho. It was like he was watching a drama right before his eyes, a drama that he was involved in unintentionally.

“Why just Hyunjin?! You think he’s a better dancer than me?!?” Minho shot out, advancing towards you.

“NO!!” It tore through your throat, forcing out of you like the angry stride you took forward towards him.

“Wait!! Are you saying I’m bad at dancing??“ Hyunjin gasped from the sidelines.

“No!! Not at all!! It’s just. It’s different.” You screeched out in frustration. You didn’t know how to explain it. How to put it into words but you had to at least try. “Dancing with your boyfriend and then dancing with a friend you admire- wAIT THAT DID NOT COME OUT RIGHT-“

“FRIEND YOU ADMIRE?!”

“CUZ HE’S GOOD AT DANCING!! NOT IN A ROMANTIC WAY!!”

“SO YOU THINK HE’S BETTER THAN ME THEN-“

“I DIDN'T SAY THAT!!”

“Okay, this was fun but I think I’ll g-“ Hyunjin decides wisely to try and leave this sudden screaming match, but you won’t let him.

“DON’T!” You yelled. Please for the love of everything good, don’t leave me with an angry Minho.

“LEAVE!” Minho countered. Hyunjin just looked back and forth between the two of you. There’s no way he’s having Minho be mad it him too, well, more than he is already.

“Sorry!!~ Okay bye!!” And with that, Hyunjin was zooming out of there. Now you’re all alone with Lee Minho.

When Hyunjin leaves is when Minho attacks. Trapping you against the wall with an arrogant smirk. “Dance with him all you want, I guess. But I’m better at both.” He grins at you like the cheshire cat.

“Both?” You couldn't follow where he was going with that.

“Kissing and dancing.” That’s when Minho kisses you harder than he ever has before.~

*+:｡.｡~

Changbin *+:｡.｡~

“Oh my god! Finally, it’s my favorite part!!” You cheered as Woojin came on the screen.

Changbin gasped, startled that you would say that now and not during his part, that happened not too many seconds ago. He didn’t pause to think, instead, clicking on the spacebar to pause the music video. In turn, pausing the marathon of your boyfriend’s music videos.

“This is your favorite part?!” Your boyfriend spun his body to face you, genuinely shocked, interrogating you.

“Yeah?”

“But it’s Woojin’s part-“

“Yeah, I’m aware of that. His high notes and visuals are like a dream. Okay, now unpause-“ You were completely unbothered, speaking plainly as you always did with him; adoring to push his buttons. You leaned over to unpause it, only to be stopped midway with a screech and a hand smoothly grabbing at yours.

“What about MY part?!” You jumped a bit at his unexpected screech after such a soft, romantic hand grab, blinking slowly, rubbing at your ears. Though, you weren’t entirely shocked. Your boyfriend was this biggest baby you’ve ever met and you were the oldest of your siblings.

“Your part was dope as usual, baby.~” You went all out with your baby voice once you recovered, even going as far as squishing his perfect cheeks together as you leaned over to kiss him. He was already pouting for you, perfectly squished like this. Your heart ascended! Squishy Bin made you blush and grin so hard it hurt. You just had to peck him once or twice more.

“But babe-“

“Shhh, now let’s watch my favorite part-“

“I SHOULD BE YOUR FAVORITE PART!!”

“YOU ALREADY ARE MY FAVORI- You already are a favorite. Stop being so selfish.” You quickly recovered, poorly though, anyone would admit it was a bad attempt at trying to not reveal too much. But you got him distracted again with your cute snort and planted kisses on his cheek before unpausing and snuggling into him. It was a few seconds before you heard Bin’s soft, pouty voice again.

“...Your favorite what?”

“Shhh.”

….

“I’m your favorite though, right?”

“Changbin!! Who am I dating?”

“Me!”

“Exactly.”

“So I’m your favorite?”

“Shhhhh.”

*+:｡.｡~

Hyunjin *+:｡.｡~

“You’re fucking joking.” Hyunjin glared at Han Jisung, chopsticks stopping midway from his mouth. He was pissed, he couldn’t believe his smug friend in front of him.

“I’m not! Y/n told me!” Jisung hit his hands on the table for unnecessary emphasis, but it was blatantly clear that he was also enjoying this as well.

“My baby told you that you’re their favorite member of Stray Kids.” Hyunjin deadpanned and just rolled his eyes and brought his lunch to his mouth. Unbelievable.

“I’m serious!!” Jisung nearly hit one of the staff with how dramatic he was gesticulating. He quickly bowed to them and apologized before continuing. “Y/n told me directly!!”

“You’re full of shit.” Hyunjin replied, though he was the one with a mouth full of shit.

“Call her!! It’s true. Call her right now!!”

“Y/n is probably sleeping right now, dumbass. We’re in a different time zone, remember?! In case you forgot, we’re on tour!! I’m not calling her.”

“Do it! I’m not lying. I’ll call them myself to prove it!!” Though Hyunjin was refusing to be gullible for once in his life and not believe Jisung, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t still easily threatened. So he called you up. At five a.m. your time. On your day off.

Ring, ring, ring. You didn’t pick up. Hyunjin glared at Jisung. Jisung just incessantly insisted again. So Hyunjin had no other choice but to click on heart-emoji-filled contact name again, but he did so with a deathly glare. Jisung was still completely unaffected, practically bouncing in his seat with excitement.

“...h-hello?” He heard your gorgeous morning voice on the line, Jesus, he almost ascended into heaven. But he had to play it cool, Jisung was right at his ear. That’s when he begins to feel like a complete idiot for waking you up, and, out of all things, over one of Jisung’s stupid games.

“...Is Jisung your favorite member?” He squeaked out after a few seconds, facepalming immediately. He really didn’t give any greeting whatsoever, the realization had him cringing even harder. Of course, Jisung was having an absolute heyday, eyes wide as they could be with his face scrunched up in glee and vibrating with the kind of energy one would hope their caffeine of choice would bring.

“Yeah?” You croaked, you’re like three-quarters asleep; completely unfiltered.

“WAIT WHAT?!”

“Owww!!! My ears-“ You and Jisung groaned at the same time, though you were startled awake and he was only a little bit slowed down.

“What’s happening?!” You groaned, rubbing your eyes.

Jisung just ripped the phone right out of Hyunjin’s hand in response and chirped, “You’re in trouble with your boyfriend!! Go back to bed, we love you.~” then he hung up before you could even think of a response.

Now, how in the hell are you supposed to go back to sleep after that?!

*+:｡.｡~

Jisung *+:｡.｡~

“Listen! To this! Seungjeon! Ga!” Jisung heard your not at all deep voice, try to contort itself into a Felix level deep voice, as he walked into the kitchen.

There you are, in your pajamas, scrubbing the dishes with your headphones on and blasted, lost in your own little world. He just stands and watches, all the while you hum along to his group’s song. He feels pride swell in his chest, shoulders rising up to the clouds, his love for you flying high, he’s free as a bird- Until then he notices…

You’re only singing Felix’s parts? You don’t even sing the chorus or attempt to hum the other member’s verses. All you’re doing is solely singing Felix’s parts in an adorably awful impression. You showed hardly any reaction at all to his parts, much to his ego’s dismay. Not even a cheer or anything, you just simply swayed along to the rhythm like you do to everyone’s parts. Everyones but Felix’s.

Okay, this isn’t fun anymore.

“Y/n~” he sang to get your attention. Nothing. Your music's too loud.

“Y/N~” he cooed louder. Nada. No reaction at all.

“Y/N!!!” He shrieked, making you shriek as well and jump about a foot off the ground in fright. Your fright instantly turned angry as you ripped the headphones out of your ears.

“Han Jisung!!” You reprimanded, clutching at your heart.

“Oh, you know my name now??”

“...yeah? How could I not?” You weren’t following along, still scared half to death.

“I thought you only knew Felix~” he used an obnoxious childish bullying voice before does his take on a Felix impression, “Roll the dice, hunnid times-“ he couldn’t even continue because hearing him try his Aussie deep-voiced impression sent you rolling your head back in laughter.

“No, idiot! It goes like this-“ you can’t even demonstrate before he flies over to you in a blink of an eye, attacking with tickles.

“Why not try to learn your Boyfriend’s lines, huh??”

“Aishhh I’m doing the dishes! ‘Get the oops~ outta here’!”

“Wrong song!!”

“I know that’s the point!~” You giggled, shoving him away from you.

“Woowww, you’re so meannn, Jagi!!~” Your boyfriend whined like the little kid he is.

“You’re the one who’s dating me, that’s not my fault.~” You quipped back with a smug chirp before playing Victory Song again, but this time connecting to the bluetooth speaker, blasting it as you went back to work on the dishes.

Let’s just say this ends with soap, water, and bubbles all over the entire kitchen and the both of your clothes drenched in dishwater.

*+:｡.｡~

Felix *+:｡.｡~

When Felix enters your apartment, he was not expecting, in any alternative universe, that you, his girlfriend, would be taping up a poster of Chan in your home.

“Y/n, what are you doing?!” Felix was blinking like someone threw sand into his eyes.

“What does it look like I’m doing, dummy?” You asked with pure adoration in your voice.

“It looks like you’re taping up a picture of someone who isn’t me. Who is that?!” Felix played dumb like he wanted you to admit to your wrongs. But was what you were doing even wrong? You just ignored the ‘who is that’ question, it was more than obvious that it was the coveted Bang Chan.

“You are correct, now help me! Look at it! I think it’s crooked!”

“Yeah it’s sooo crooked!! Let me help you take it off!!” Felix giggles, but before he can continue, he’s interrupted by a loud ripping sound. He fucking rips the poster in three when he tries to take it off the wall!

“FELIX YONGBOK LEE!!”

“....yes?” He looks up at you reluctantly with the eyes of bambi. The two pieces of poster in his hands and one remaining on the wall.

“Why would you do that?-” Your voice trembled. “I paid for that! You owe me a new one!”

“You payed for a poster of Chan??”

“Yeah and then you ripped it off the wall!!” You started to tense up, heat up. You really spent twenty five fucking dollars on a single poster only for your boyfriend to rip it up. “Did you do it on purpose??!?”

“I- no!! I didn’t do it on purpose!!” Felix genuinely didn’t do it on purpose and now he feels bad. He initially felt a bit of accidental accomplishment! He ripped the poster of his best friend off your wall, but now he’s feeling something not so good upon seeing your reaction.

“Now I only have yours and the group’s to hang up!!” Some of your tears might’ve risen up out of its resting place.

Now, this sounds like the opposite of a problem to most but you had this whole idea: Hang up Chan’s and then have the whole group in the middle and then have have the best for last, Felix. Your bias, the group and then your boyfriend. You spent too much money on it, and waited for weeks and weeks to get it in the mail because you wanted it all to be official, high quality merch. It was going to be displayed above your couch, loud and proud for the whole world to see- the whole world of like five people at most who would visit your house- but still!!

But then? Felix starts laughing? You’re about to scream at him before he pulls you into a hug.

“Baby, it’s okay!! I can get you a new one. Hey, I can maybe even get you a real Polaroid of him if ya want!!~” He hummed at you, pulling you closer.

“But I wanted it to be all matching-” You sniffled, shaking your head at how easily you get riled up. “It’s okay, it’s okay. Let’s just tape it back together.” You sniffled again before nodding to yourself and reluctantly letting go. You hated being such an emotional bean sometimes but to him you were really too cute, too precious. He nodded back and gave you a smooch.

…

“There we go!~ All better?!”

“Yeah… I love it.” You said it with a little less enthusiasm than you normally would. Admittedly, you were still a bit sad at the now ugly poster.

“But you love me more right??” It took you a second to understand what he meant, but when you did you giggled.

“Oh my god you’re such a dummy!”

“What?! Why??”

*+:｡.｡~

Seungmin *+:｡.｡~

“Jagi!!~” Seungmin sings excitedly as he enters the dorm, completely ignoring the fact this is his group’s dorm, treating it as if you were the only one here or something. It made you turn strawberry red, losing your focus on the video game. When you look back at the screen Bin is ahead of you now. Shit.

“Sunshine!!~” You choked back, though it was said with a troubled voice, frustrated that you just let Changbin ahead of you in Mario kart. You were just beating him! This is gonna lose your streak!!

“What are you doing?!~” You hear his angelic voice come closer, his footsteps heading into the living room.

“Well I was beating Beefcake but some ‘sunshine’ blinded me and now I’m behind!!” You whined, tense and focusing harder on the screen, you were so close to Changbin, so close, yet so far. It was the last round, he threw the bananas he’s been saving at you to put salt in the wound. He was getting away!!

“Stop, Bin!!!” You squealed. Of course your boyfriend has to see you fail and not when you’ve been beating him the two times prior. You were supposed to beat him three times in a row, triple crown status!!

“Stop or you’re not my favorite anymore!!” You threatened Changbin with the only thing you could think of in the moment.

“WAIT WHAT?!” Seungmin then jumped in front of the tv at this, blocking your views from the game, his arms spread out so you couldn’t see. “Changbin is your favorite?!?” Seungmin gasped and looked at you with a face you have never seen him make before, ever in your life. If this was a sitcom, the record scratch sound effect would be played now.

“Heh-“ you were caught red-handed, well actually red-faced. You damned yourself because of your bad threat.

“I’m your favorite?!” This was also news to Changbin as he set the remote down slowly and turned to smile at you like you just handed him twenty dollars.

“No one’s my favorite!!” You groaned. “Now get out of the way!! I have a game to win!-”

“SEO CHANGBIN?!? OUT OF EVERYONE?? Okay, I’d get it if I was your favorite and then like Jeongin was your second favorite because he’s so fun to bother. But CHANGBIN?? THE FAVORITE?” The Mario kart ending song starts playing, you could hear Yoshi’s dismay countered with the triumph of Boo. How applicable.

“Okay this was fun, but I gotta go use the bathroom!~” You fibbed, trying to escape the situation.

“You’re not going anywhere!! Your ass has some explaining to do.” Seungmin pulls you right back to him with a smirk.

“Changbin help!”

“Seungmin, your girlfriend said likes me!!~”

“I NEVER SAID LIKE-“

*+:｡.｡~

Jeongin *+:｡.｡~

You could not, for the life of you, stop laughing at what Minho was saying at dinner. This dinner being the first one you had with all of Jeongin’s members. For some reason Minho’s humor tickled you just the right way to have you cackling, that and maybe you were a bit… okay, a lot sleep-deprived from studying for finals coming up and having to work on top of that. Either way, you more than once almost choked and spat, thankfully the stars were on your side and you didn’t actually; though who knows how long that’ll last.

“Jeongin, is Y/n okay?! She’s losing it!!”

“I’m right here!!” You responded in your boyfriend’s place, waving your hand in front of Minho’s face, only to smoothly put it around Jeongin’s shoulders. You deserved points for how smooth that came across despite the amount of distress you were suddenly under.

“Y/n, are you okay?! Did they put something in your lemonade?!” Minho, this time, fake-asked you.

You just snorted and shook your head. “I’m perfectly fine!! Superb actually!!” You turned and looked at Jeongin, smiling brightly at him. This day was going beyond great for you! You were so worried that the guys wouldn’t like you.

“Wow?? Superb?” Jeongin laughs nervously, scratching at his neck. Even while nervous he was offensively adorable. “When have you ever used that word?!” He raised an eyebrow at you.

“Right now!” You quipped back.

“Jeongin, I don’t think Y/n is okay, nobody laughs that hard at Minho.” Seungmin whispered loudly to Jeongin, making eye contact with you, causing everyone to laugh as hard as you have been all night.

“Yeah, what’s wrong with you?!” Jisung teased.

“I’m sleep deprived alright. Besides! I’ve been waiting so long to actually meet you guys, so I’m really really happy!!”

“Yeah, really happy to meet Minho!!” Hyunjin snorts and begins clapping like an over-enthused seal at his own joke.

You just rolled your eyes at him. And for once, you didn’t have the quick comeback you and Jeongin were known for. Because it’s true, you really did wanna meet Minho. You’ve heard so much about him and, quite frankly, he sounded the strangest, most unreal out of all the bizarre boys your boyfriend spends his time with. He was a topic of interest.

“Wow, she really has nothing to say back to that. I think it’s true!!” Felix cheered, wide eyed and began to laugh in shock.

“Well- listen. Innie told me all the dirt on you guys, Minho's dumbassery sounded too unreal!! Of course I had to see it for myself!” You fired back.

Jeongin laughs so hard his head flies back, the rest of them follows suit, besides Minho, obviously. Jeongin wraps an arm around you with a proud smile, he realized he had nothing to worry about. His pride still somehow managed to remain shy and adorable. Too cute to handle. You glowed at his reaction. Your heart practically bursts like a firework at this. He just wrapped his arm around you in front of his members!!

“You guys are disgusting!” Minho pretends to retch at your very wholesome PDA.

“Yeah, says the most disgusting!” Jeongin jabs right back and it was then your turn to laugh proudly. Jeongin is happy to note that you actually laughed harder at this than anything Minho’s said all night.

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