#he's not immune to getting annoyed or upset about shit that deserves it

[moonlightdreamzz]

empathetic — woozi

all you want, is for jihoon to care.

you always knew your boyfriend was more of an onion, and not a sunflower. what you mean by that, is that he had many layers to him, and he could not be pulled easily. if you wanted to peel the different pieces off of him, you had to work for it, but quite frankly you think you deserved a lot more than he had given you in the past couple of days.

you considered your body to be strong, but weak at the same time. you caught disease quite quickly such as colds, flu’s, and infections, but you also whooped its ass everytime. oddly enough, one of the things you looked forward to when you finally met your match was having someone to coo over your warm temperatures. a man who would surprise you with warm soups and extra blankets, who would also lay in bed with you no matter what was going on and give you kisses.

lee jihoon was not that man, which you knew, but you had no idea it would be this bad.

you were a mess - definitely not the prettiest sight you could conjure of yourself. you don’t remember the last time you saw your thick hair, which was never tamable on a good day, but especially for this past week had you just not been feeling any of your usual trials and tribulations of trying to figure out what to do with yourself. your bonnet had found itself halfway off your head from your tossing and turning through the night.

if you had the energy, you would crochet your hair. quick and easy timing, but also a cute look. jihoon also appreciated it on you, and you unfortunately lived to please him.

you weren’t dying at the moment, but you did have some concerning symptoms - a cough. so, symptom. of course your boyfriend did not bat an eye whatsoever for the past week as he scrambled through your home silently like the cute little mouse he was.

today is no different, but still your patience has completely ran thin. the penthouse you two shared was large enough so that whenever he wanted to hide from you, he could, and you knew that’s exactly what he was doing at this current moment.

when he finally walks into your shared bedroom ever so quietly, you can tell he was praying you were asleep.

“why are you hiding from me?” you question immediately. you don’t have much on, as you always got hot so easily. no shirt covered your body, just panties, but you and jihoon had been together so long that he was immune to your bare flesh. now that you think about it, you can’t remember the last time the two of you made any kind of love. luckily you didn’t need sex all the time in order to be satisfied, but jihoon wasn’t giving you anything at all.

“huh?” he responds quickly - proof you were right. you hated how cute he was, especially when he had what you referred to as his “morning puff”. he always had a chunky, sweet little face, but when he woke up from long nights in the studio, it was extra squishy and normally you would enjoy kissing all over his adorable face, but not today. you were upset.

“have you not heard me coughing for the past week?”

he turns to face you now. you’re sure he had a flashback to the many arguments where you begged him to look at you in your eyes. at least he cared about something you’ve said to him in the past.

“i have.” is all he says. that’s really all he has to say?

“and you haven’t done shit about it?”

“why are you cursing at me?”

“because I’m tired of the non-chalant attitude.”

he sighs out loud. that was his way of telling you he had better things to do. even so, he crawls on top of the bed and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“relax, baby.” he encourages. “what do you want? i’ll order your favorite.”

this is what you referred to as the attempt. a very poor one, but an attempt never the less.

would it be wrong of you to ask for something home made? would that make you selfish? all of the other girlfriends gagged about whenever any minor issues went on with them, how the boys would cater to their every need like they were the queen of the entire world or something. why didn’t jihoon treat you that way? was he too comfortable?

“y/n?” he speaks, knowing you completely ignored his question in exchange for what if’s.

“nevermind.” you mutter, laying back on your California king.

“don’t do that.” he sighs. he’s irritated with you for sure, but what do you care?

“do you even care?” you question. “like seriously?”

“if I didn’t care I wouldn’t be sitting in this house with you. and I just told you I would buy you whatever you want. i don’t know what more you want me to do.”

“i want you to act like my boyfriend of a million years. i want you to coddle me and give me kisses and offer to wash my hair.”

“in what world is anybody allowed to touch your hair?” he questions seriously as his eyebrows scrunch together in completely confusion and irritation.

“does it matter if I would say no?”

he chuckles, but not in a way where he thinks you’re cute. you’re only making the situation worse in his eyes. “do you want the food or not?”

“do you remember when we first started dating?” you stand up promptly, your thighs rubbing together as you get closer to him.

“y/n, why do you expect me to be the exact same way I was when I first met you?”

“why do people have this weird belief that once you start dating for a certain amount of years that love has to slow down?”

“so you’re saying I don’t love you?”

“i’m saying i have been clearly sick for the past week and all you’ve been is cooped up in your studio like a damn crack addict. what I’m saying is, we are in a relationship but you don’t even care to ask me am I okay. i’m not dating you to still feel like I’m alone!”

“you do realize the only person who pays bills in this nice little house is me right? how else can I do that if not ‘cooped up in my studio like a crack addict’” he quotes directly from you.

“do you realize that you’re the one who told me I didn’t have to pay a bill in this house?”

“whatever.”

he tries to walk away, but you know it’s only because he hates to argue, especially recently. it was something about it that really pained him.

“baby.” you lower your tone from all the unnecessary yelling. you touch his hand, but he snatches it away so hard that you flinch and fall to the ground. “baby...” you whisper faintly, hoping that he’ll care. for once in a long time will he just care. but he doesn’t. with his pajamas still on does he snatch his keys and walk straight out of your - well, his apartment. he slams the door too.

you honestly couldn’t recall how much time had passed since he departed from your home. usually when the two of you fought, you could easily find ways to distract yourself while also ignoring your mild heartbreak from his actions. but for some reason, this time, you couldn’t stop thinking this may have been the end.

that was usually the case when you felt like someone was falling out of love with you when you did absolutely nothing to deserve it.

you tried to listen to music. you tried to cook, but you sucked terribly at cooking Korean food and that’s all you had in your possession. you tried to sleep, but with everything running through your mind, that was impossible. so here you were, stuck with your thoughts.

you also still had the terribly annoying cough.

you didn’t have many friends here. the only people who checked on you were vernon, coups, and mingyu. you were expecting to get a call from one of them any second now.

like clock work, your phone is ringing. quite frankly you weren’t prepared to see Vernon’s name pop up on your phone simply because he was the one who called the least, but you didn’t mind. he always got you turnt whenever you were down, and even when you were fighting with woozi he didn’t suddenly treat you like you didn’t exist. he was always a neutral party.

“hello?” you say softly - your voice hoarse from the constant coughing you were doing.

“hey.” his voice speaks softly, “you alright?”

“yeah I’m fine, just not feeling my best. i have this annoying ass cough and it’s not going away and I’m also alone so, just fine.” you chuckle while burying yourself deeper into the bed if that was even possible.

“damn, you been smoking that good?”

“unlike you, I only smoke on special occasions vernon.”

“yeah whatever. how’s woozi? haven’t been able to get ahold of him.”

“he’s fine...I think. he’s been trying to hide from me but that’s been the norm lately if I’m being honest.”

“wait, you said you were alone.” vernon remembers, “we’ve been off all week where is your boyfriend?”

“you know...being himself.” you and vernon may have not spoke as much, but when you did talk to him, everything flowed out. every secret. it should be like this with woozi, but. “maybe it’s my fault.” you sigh, scratching your scalp from outside your bonnet, “i kind of...asked for a lot I guess.”

“like?”

“well, I’m not feeling well. i just felt upset because it seemed like he was purposely trying to avoid me so I wouldn’t have the chance to ask him to do anything for me. and the thing is, I wasn’t going to ask for anything but a lousy fucking hug - a cuddle. the bare minimum. i would have even taken a no but to be avoided? it hurt my feelings and we fought and—ugh. he stormed out the house and I have no idea where he is and I want to call him but truthfully what did I do wrong vernon? lately I’ve been feeling like I’m in a relationship with myself and I know we can be better than this. woozi used to be the sweetest little baby. he may have been hard to others, but he opened up for me. i feel shut out.”

you feel so much better getting all of that out, even though you know your boyfriend may have not appreciated the sentiment.

you know vernon listened to every single word and and would come back with some heartfelt advice.

“just give it time y/n. i can’t speak on jihoon like I am him, but if there’s one thing I know? it’s that you are the only person he truly loves that doesn’t share his bloodline. of course he loves us, but you - he opens up to you. he’s allowed you to see him. maybe there’s something going on. or maybe he just didn’t know what to do. just let him come back to you and see what happens.”

“thank you vernon. forreal.” you don’t know why his words affected you so much and made you feel such a heavy weight of guilt in the part where you held your boyfriend so deeply - your heart, but you did.

more hours had passed, and still no sign of woozi. you even tossed your pride away and called him, only to be sent straight to voicemail. you must have really irritated him, but you still didn’t feel sorry. you didn’t move your pride aside that much.

you did feel somber though, considering how much you loved him even through how he had been acting lately. and without him in your life, there was no reason for you to be here - in Korea. you didn’t want to end things. you just wanted to feel loved.

you still haven’t gotten out the bed except when you needed to pee. YouTube and funny clips had been keeping your company. maybe it was because of boredom, but things began to get darker and darker in your home. you were fading into a bitter sweet slumber. regardless, it’s what you needed. maybe your cough would subdue.

jihoon is quiet as a mouse as always when he walks inside, hands full of multiple things. all day had your words rang through his mind that was already full of so many things. had he really been making you feel so worthless? like you weren’t the most important person for his soul other than his family? actually, you were his family. there was never a day where he felt like he deserved you, but the minute the two of you kissed for the first time did he know that he would do whatever he had to, to keep you forever.

so when did he stop? he kind of knew he hadn’t been his best, but he didn’t know why. it was as if he was doing it on purpose, but not because of something you did. lately, it had just been so hard to keep up with everything in his life. all of the schedules seventeen had. and in between, as he was one of the frequent producers for the group, there were so many deadlines he had to meet he just felt so overwhelmed.

but he heard you coughing, and he was so worried. even so, he didn’t ask you what was wrong. why didn’t he ask you - his baby - what’s wrong? especially after it was day three and the cough was not improving? any other man who would practically rip his limbs off to be with you, would have been catering to your every need. they would have gave you all the kisses you needed, would have given you a full body massage, and offered to wash your hair even knowing that the answer was going to be no.

but he didn’t.

when he left, he was so angry. but not at you, at himself. vernon was the first person he called as he knew that while the two of you didn’t talk often, that he was the one who knew how to get your exact feelings. he hated how much of a wimp he sounded like when he had to bargain a song in exchange for vernon to call you. vernon declined and called you anyway.

to hear you on the phone, telling vernon that you felt as if you weren’t loved. feeling like you were in a relationship with yourself? that broke him. so, he called another one of his members who he knew would guide him into the right direction - mingyu.

“ill order everything, hyung. all you have to do is pick everything up. what you need to do right now, is practice your apology. oh, and pick up some cough medicine for her.”

so he did. his little body struggled to get everything inside, but he figured you would be asleep at this time. when you were bored, you had a tendency to doze off.

his instructions were to set everything up real nice on a table and serve it to you as if you were on a date, but woozi knew you better than that. he knew all you wanted to do was eat in bed and go right back to sleep. and talk.

he walks through the slim hallway that leads into your shared bedroom, and he was right. you were sleeping. the tv shined on your beautiful skin that he loved to place his cheek on whenever he felt any negative or positive emotion. he wasn’t sure what was on the tv. you probably weren’t either. you both loved to put on random movies and shows and talk about how much they sucked.

he approaches you gently - afraid that any little noise would startle you. he places everything on the fluffy sheets; the roses, your meal, your medicine, and the usb with the song he had been saving for you all lined up in orderly fashion. your bonnet is falling off your head as always, so he adjusts it. you had a pet peeve about that.

you were so beautiful. the most beautiful person he had ever met in his entire life. and you loved him. you - the brightest star in the galaxy and the sweetest soul chose him out of all of the people you had attempting to steal your heart. he couldn’t let another second go by without fixing this.

“baby.” he whispers. his thumb caresses your ear gently. he always wanted to be this guy. the hopeless romantic, always knew what to do guy, but girls never wanted him. he was always too short, too boring, all of the bad things. you never felt that way though. you always told him he was the perfect size for you. that he wasn’t boring, it was just that people never wanted to take the time to get to know him.

you moved slightly, but he knew he had just only scraped whatever dream you were currently in. he had to try a little harder to return you back to the world. his lips find themselves on your sweet face, just as you do to him every morning. little by little is he painting his love on you until you finally begin to stir.

“are you a murderer?” are the first words you speak.

you were always so hilarious, even without trying. he knew that was a genuine question no matter how funny the delivery was.

“no. i hope not.” he responds.

he can see you recognize his voice from the way you release the breathe he didn’t even know you were holding. woozi expected you to push him off you the minute you realized it was him, but you didn’t.

“hi baby.” you whisper, pulling him into you.

“hi baby.” he repeats, inhaling your sweet scent. it always made him feel like he was in heaven.

you pull back, cuffing his chubby face into his hands. if there was one thing about your fights with jihoon, it was that it wasn’t hard to make up. a simple look in each others eyes was enough to make up for everything. it was such a toxic trait, but it worked out.

“wait.” you breathe out as you notice everything behind your boyfriend. “ji...”

“it’s nothing, y/n.” he sighs, moving back so he can have a full view of you. “it’s what I should be giving you every fucking day. you are my queen. you are the only thing that is keeping me sane with this lifestyle.”

“everyday would drive even me crazy, ji.” you giggle, “you know that’s not what this is about. it’s just, I know how we used to be and I know how we are now. i don’t want us to get so comfortable with each other that we forget why we are together. you know that happened to my parents and I want to be with you forever.”

“i know.” all of sudden he feels it - the feeling he’s been feeling for the past couple of weeks whenever something bad happens. his whole body feels sick. he hasn’t told you about it because he thought it would go away, but it hasn’t. it seems as if this is going to be the worse one as it does involve the love of his life.

“hey.” you sit up, throwing one of his shirts that laid free on the bed. “what’s wrong babe? i’m here. i’m right here.”

you had never seen him like this before. you knew there was no such thing as a person who didn’t have internal issues, but this seemed like something that had been wanting to boil over for a while. you knew what severe anxiety looked like as you suffered from it. this was it.

“i don’t know, y/n.” he breathes out shakily. “this has been...happing lately.”

“why didn’t you tell me? hm?”

“i don’t know. i don’t know anything other than that I love you. and that I’m sorry.” he seems to be calming down from your touch. had he known this was all he needed, all the pain he suffered would have never taken place. he should have known though. you were his angel after all.

“we tell each other everything, baby.” you remind him as you begin to place gentle kisses onto his neck. “never forget that. there is nothing we can’t get through together.”

“i know.” is all he can say - your lips were too much of a distraction for him especially when he hasnt felt them in so long. he always craved you, but the two of you always took a lot of breaks. your relationship was much deeper than your love making no matter how addicted the two of you were to eachother.

you want to get right into it. you want to throw him on the bed, and ride every ounce of anxiety your boyfriend has right off, and then you want to eat your food, take your medicine, and drift into what you know will be the best sleep you’ve gotten in a while. but you two had to talk. everything needed to be squashed.

“ji, what can I do to fix this? i don’t like the way I’ve been feeling. and I know you don’t either.”

“you are perfect. you always have been. it’s me, but I promise I’ll do better. i’ll get everything under control.”

“you mean we will get everything under control. honestly baby, let’s not even use that terminology. we will learn to overcome this. anxiety is completely normal. you just can’t let it control you okay? and we have to communicate. don’t be afraid to show me any parts of you especially when you’ve seen my literal insides.” you joke, just to see his smile. he does, and it’s so bright. your foreheads lean into eachother immediately - natural just like your love.

“i love you.” he whispers.

“i love you.” you repeat. the two of you tried your best to not add too, to that sentence, as it meant in exchange for the other ones love and that’s not what was going on here. no matter what, the two of you loved each other. even if one stopped.

woozi goes back to buisness immediately, knowing you two were better now. his hands remove the covers that covered your body, and his tounge finds itself on your neck - his favorite place that’s not inside you.

“you feeling better?” he questions, still attacking you.

“i think this will distract me for a bit.” you giggle

“i’ll make it it all go away. you know I will.” are his final words before he lays on top of you, sliding his shirt off of your body with ease.

you were in for a long night. and the two of you still were in need of a conversation about what he was going through, but you knew what the both of you needed in this moment. you needed to feel each other again.

#seventeen #kpop black reader #kpop ambw #kpop poc #poc kpop #ambw kpop #woozi imagine #seventeen imagine #seventeen x poc reader #woozi angst #woozi fluff

[jingabitch]

That 0 effort Moonbyul oneshot

SUMMARY: you get picked up at a bar

RATING: explicit

PAIRINGS: moonbyul x f!reader

WARNINGS: smut | oral sex (f receiving) | hookup | implied facesitting | sexual tension

WORD COUNT: 2.6k

A/N: hello one and all, it is me, arisen from the dead! unbeta-ed because i am trash. sorry guys. will probably come back and clean up at some point.

You sighed as you stared yourself down in the office mirror, leaning in to apply the bold red lip colour. You had to be careful with it – if you made a mistake, that would be a perfect way to cap off this shitty week, you thought. After being yelled at by your useless client and then by your boss for not being quick enough at building that bullshit case to get him out of that sexual harassment lawsuit that he clearly deserved, what you really needed was to get absolutely shitfaced drunk tonight, you decided, staring yourself in the mirror as you ran your fingers through your hair, releasing it from the tight bun that had no doubt been contributing to your headache today.

Popping open a few more buttons of your crisp white button-down blouse, you reached in to rearrange your tits to maximize your cleavage. You weren’t exactly planning to hook up with anyone, but the girls needed some airtime too.

Satisfied with your appearance now, you headed to the bar just a block away from your office. The bartender was, by this point, familiar with you, and put a glass of whiskey in front of you before you even ordered.

“Thanks,” you nodded, sliding him your card to start your tab.

“Rough week?” he asked sympathetically.

You shrugged. “Same old.” It really was. Your days were mostly spent getting rich people out of messes caused by their cavalier disregard for other people, which really hadn’t been what you’d thought your life was going to be like after graduating law school, but it paid your bills (and your hefty student loans).

The whiskey burned going down, but you relished it. Just one sip seemed to help the stress of the week melt away, and you slipped your heels out of your pumps, letting them dangle from your toes as you rotated your head, working the kinks out of your neck.

As you scrolled through Instagram, enjoying reading something that wasn’t your cases, you absently sipped at your whiskey, finishing the rest of it. Just as you were setting your empty glass down, the bartender placed another glass next to the old one, and you looked up, surprised.

“Looks like you’ve taken someone’s fancy,” he told you, grinning as he did a chin jut in the direction of your mysterious benefactor.

Picking up the fresh drink, you turned to look for the guy who’d sent you the drink. This happened almost every time you were here, and while you could do without the attention, you loved the free booze.

To your surprise, however, it wasn’t a guy who made eye contact with you. It was a woman, dressed in an oversized blazer and trousers, her long silver hair spilling over her shoulders. She raised her own shot glass up to you and winked. It was overdone, definitely bordering on sleazy, but inexplicably, it worked on you. Raising your own drink back at her, you winked back before bringing the glass to your lips.

She moved fast, and when you put your glass back down on the counter, she was standing beside you. “Hey,” she greeted, her voice surprisingly husky. She rested her elbows against the counter and folded her arms, turning her head slightly to look at you more directly.

“Hello,” you greeted. You had to admit, the sound of her voice sent shivers down your spine. Helpless to suppress the instinct, your teeth sank into your lower lip as your gaze met hers.

“I’m Byulyi,” she introduced herself, before signalling to the bartender that she wanted another round.

“Y/n,” you said, strangely shy. Byulyi’s gaze was so intense that you couldn’t help but lower your own, tucking your hair behind your ear self-consciously.

“That’s such a pretty name,” she said, her hand following yours and caressing the side of your face.

Knowing that all of this was a bit didn’t render you immune to her charm. The same attitude that you would find so off-putting in a man was suddenly enchanting to you, as if you’d never been chatted up by some greasy guy before.

“Thank you,” you said, biting your lip as heat flared on your cheeks.

“A pretty name for a pretty girl,” she continued in a low voice, her face close to yours, your foreheads almost touching.

You giggled at the line, then almost clapped your hand over your mouth in horror. You had a law degree and a position as an associate at a big four firm. Barely a year into your career, people were already whispering about you making partner. You hadn’t giggled in almost ten years. What was going on with you?

Desperate to shift the balance of power in this interaction, you blurted out, “You’re pretty too,” leaning infinitesimally closer as you reached out, winding your fingers through the belt loops on her trousers to pull her closer to you.

Her jaw loosened slightly, surprised at how forward you were all of a sudden. You grinned as you looked her dead in the eye, daring her without words to kiss you.

She leaned in, your eyes fluttered shut, and…

The sound of the glass slamming down against the counter shocked the both of you, and you turned back towards the countertop, your eyes widening as you saw the bartender, who’d put Byulyi’s shot down in front of you.

“Ladies,” he said, clearly barely suppressing a laugh. “Feel free to go ahead, but you should know that you’re attracting quite the audience.”

You slung your arm around the back of Byulyi’s neck and rested your temple on her chest as you turned to see what he meant, your legs swinging slightly as they dangled from the stool. Her arms came up around you, helping to support you as she too looked over.

You shouldn’t have been as surprised as you were to see almost everyone in the bar staring at you, slack-jawed.

“Oops,” you said, flashing a sheepish smile up at Byulyi. Charmed, she smiled back at you.

“Shall we get out of here?” she asked, biting her lip suggestively, and you nodded, resisting the urge to kiss her again.

You both turned back to the bar to down your drinks, and you called for the bill, rooting around in your bag for your wallet. Before you could put your card down, however, Byulyi stopped you, putting her hand over your bill.

“Let me,” she said, ignoring your protests, and paid for both tabs herself.

“You know, you really didn’t have to do that,” you said mildly as you slid off the high stool. You would usually have been more upset and annoyed by someone being so presumptuous and overbearing, but she had a way of getting past your defenses.

“I know, but I wanted to,” she told you, her arm sliding around your waist. The way she kneaded the curve of your body with her hand, almost groping you, should have irritated you, but instead you found yourself leaning further into her.

The cab ride back to her place was filled with tension. You were too self-conscious to make out with her in the backseat of the car, with a stranger sitting mere inches away from you, so instead you buckled yourself into one of the seats, leaning against the door in an effort to stay out of arm’s reach.

The glower she sent your way sent chills down your spine – you knew you would pay for this later. The thought of how she might punish you for being a tease had your panties slick, your thighs rubbing against each other in a manner that you hoped was subtle enough to go undetected.

Her slow smirk let you know that she had, in fact, noticed, and how sexy she looked with that expression had you biting your lip as a fresh gush flooded your panties again.

God, could this Uber be driving any slower?!

You were barely cognizant of where the car was going, but when you looked out the window in a last-ditch attempt to not get sucked into Byulyi’s magnetic presence and scramble into her lap, you noticed the neighbourhood you were in. Holy shit, you thought, gaping out the window. This was a fancy part of town, full of expensive condominiums. One of the partners at your firm lived here, and he had a doorman and a private elevator – you’d seen it once when you came to deliver some documents on a Sunday.

Pulling up at the security post of a gated apartment complex, the Uber driver rolled down his window and the backseat one. Byulyi waved at the security guard, and he let you through.

You weren’t done gawking yet when the car pulled up at the drop-off point and Byulyi unsnapped her seatbelt and got out of the car. Between your shock and the alcohol, it took a moment for things to click in your mind, but then you followed her out.

If Byulyi hadn’t saved you by grabbing you and slamming you up against the wall, you would probably have said something embarrassing. Instead, you put your mouth to better use quickly by kissing her back, her tongue sliding against yours in a way that made you clench on yourself, almost shuddering.

“Fuck,” she swore, groping your breast over your blouse. You burrowed your hands under her blazer, and were about to pull her shirt out from her trousers when she pulled away, leaving you slightly disoriented.

She swore again, looking at you blinking at her with a pout settling over your features. Your lips were swollen and messy, your hair tumbling over your shoulders, and your skirt hiked around your thighs from the way you’d wrapped one leg around her. You looked, in a word, debauched.

“Let’s go,” she said roughly, clearing her throat and taking your hand again. You let her lead you to the elevators, leaning against the wall and watching with half-lidded eyes as she pressed the button for the top floor.

You rested your chin on her shoulder and wrapped your arms around her, watching as she used her fingerprint to open the door. As the heavy wooden door swung open, you half-tumbled into the apartment, not that you cared very much as she was immediately on you again.

Carelessly, you dropped your bag and kicked off your heels, too absorbed in getting her out of those clothes. The blazer fell onto the ground together with your scattered items, and you pushed her further into the apartment before attacking her belt. Not to be outdone, she was equally busy unbuttoning your blouse. Had she been a man, you might have worried about your buttons popping off – you did not have time to sew them back on – but even though she was in a rush, her fingers were nimble and dexterous.

Shrugging the blouse off, you immediately reached around her to unsnap her bra, pulling it off her and dropping it in the hallway. You had to pause then to pay homage to her gorgeous tits, all pale, snowy white skin topped with dark brown nipples. Pushing her against the wall, you dipped your head to suck one into your mouth, while your hands busied themselves with getting her out of her pants.

Her fingers speared through your hair, gripping it tightly as you lavished attention on first one, then the other breast. Finally, you managed to get her pants undone, and you hooked your fingers in her panties to pull them off, together with her trousers.

Looking up at her with a smirk, you dropped to your knees, urging her to step out of the pooled fabric around her ankles. For some unknowable reason, you were still wearing your pencil skirt, and you hiked it up around your hips as you spread your knees, your fingers worming into your panties to find your clit among the soaked folds as you lowered your head to her pussy.

Before you dived in, you took a second to appreciate how pretty it was, how good it smelled. You were sure your lashes fluttered a little, almost overwhelmed by the enormity of this experience, the privilege of getting to kneel before this goddess and taste her pussy.

Seeing your over-the-top reaction must have made her impatient, because before you could do anything more, she grabbed your head again and pushed you into her pussy, smearing the juices over your face.

“Fuck, yes, slut,” she groaned as you took the hint and started licking her enthusiastically. She did taste amazing, sweet and salty all at once, a heady flavour that coated your tongue. You worked your clit furiously as you ran your tongue over hers, looking up at her almost worshipfully as she thrust her hips in your face, working herself back and forth over your tongue with small, rhythmic motions as her hand held your head firmly in place.

It didn’t take long for her to cum with how worked up you both were, and the sensation of her orgasming on your tongue as she filled your mouth with cream had you shuddering as you came too.

In the aftermath, she let go of your head, helping you up as you pulled your soaked fingers out of your panties. Her gaze captured yours as she took your hand, putting your fingers into her mouth. You bit your lip helplessly as you felt her tongue slide around the appendages, instantly growing aroused again.

“That’s good,” she purred when she’d gotten every bit of your slick off your fingers. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to taste it from the source.”

This time, you were in less of a hurry, and she actually took the time to lead you to the bedroom, pulling off your skirt and your pathetically soaked panties on the way. Your body had barely touched the mattress, though, before she was crawling onto the bed after you, pushing your legs apart and lowering her head to you.

You propped yourself up on your elbows, wanting to watch her go down on you, but the combination of her skilled tongue and magic fingers was soon too much for you, and you collapsed back onto the mattress, your toes curling into the bedspread as you closed your eyes against the sensations, your hips jerking slightly as you panted and cried out.

Her tongue was stimulating your clit as her fingers hit your g-spot unerringly, over and over again, and it proved to be too much as you came for a second time, your back arching off the mattress as you clenched down on her fingers repeatedly, screaming her name as you orgasmed.

“Wow,” you breathed as you opened your eyes, watching as she propped herself up on her elbows, grinning at you smugly. “That was amazing.”

“I know,” she said, almost gloating. You supposed that was fair, given the way you’d squirted all over her face. Her silver hair was darker at some parts now, hanging more heavily around her face.

“Let me return the favour?” you asked, holding your hand out to her. She got up on her knees and took it. You locked your fingers with hers and tugged until she got the message, shuffling up the bed.

“You sure about this?” she asked, hovering above your face with one knee on either side of your head. You nodded emphatically, and she bent down to kiss you deeply. You could smell and taste yourself all over her face, and the idea of it just made you want more.

Placing her hands on the mattress above your head for balance, she lowered herself to your face, and your arms went around her thighs, holding her in place.

#ksmutclub #kwritersworldnet #moonbyul x reader #moonbyul fic #moonbyul smut #mamamoo fic #mamamoo smut

[myblueeyedbuggers]

My Boys

Chapter 14

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13

Pairings: Steve Rogers X Reader (Best Friend) Bucky Barnes X Reader

Word Count: 1620

Warnings:  Swearing, bit of violence if you looking very closely

Summary: After being abandoned by her parents in Brooklyn in 1929, y/n makes a living for herself by working for the Црни лабуд gang until she meets two boys in a back alley and her life slowing begins to change.

So Hi again everyone! one more chapter to go then we're on the first Avenger, I just wanna say thank you to each and everyone of you all for taking the time to sit down and read this, it means the absolute world to me! Anyways I'll shut up, enjoy chapter 14 everyone <3

Now don’t ask me how they did it, but somehow my idiots managed to open my front door without a key, if I wasn’t so pissed at them for getting into a fight for the 5th night in a row, I’d be tearing them a new one for that alone. Completely and uttered annoyed with the pair of em, I may of opened my door with a bit more force than necessary and twatted the back of it on the coat rack, not my best moment but at least nothing broke. I was fully prepared to lose my shit with both of em, but one look of them both sat at the table, covered head to toe in bruises and cuts made all my anger disappear, I can’t be mad at them when they both look absolutely exhausted.

Wordlessly I crossed the landing into the bathroom, grabbing the first aid kit and spare clothes I kept for the boys, setting em down on the dresser just outside my room before heading off to change into my satin pyjamas. It’s times like this that make me so frustrated with them both, I know why they do what they do, they’re trying to make the world a better place in their own way, but I just wished that they wouldn’t do it in a way that put them in danger. Coming back out into the kitchen was almost like walking into a morgue, neither of them said a thing to each other whilst I was gone, the looks their faces absolutely shattered my small, minuscule heart to pieces.

It was pretty easy to see from the slumped shoulders and the way they both avoided eye contact that they were ashamed of what happened tonight, and that made me feel like the biggest piece of shit ever, I trusted these boys with my life, and I know that they would never start a fight if they didn’t have a reason for it. Hell, I didn’t care about the reason why anymore. Without saying a word to them, I went over to the sink and filled a bowl with warm water, I knew that one of em would have got the rags out already, more than likely Buck cause Steve’s short ass can’t reach the cabinet…I’m joking I love him really, but he’s soooo fucking short it’s unreal..

I’d barely had time to put the bowl on the table before Steve started to speak.

“We’re sorry Y/n…Those guys were erm..saying some pretty messed up things about you and I couldn’t help it, I saw red and lost my temper. Be angry with me, not a Buck he was just lookin’ out for me”.

The sigh that left my body couldn’t be helped, as much as I love Steve he couldn’t lie to save his life, though normally I wouldn’t put it past him to start a fight over me, the way Buck reacted made it pretty clear that the hot-headed love of my life started this one, the sharp look he gave for Steve was about as subtle as a sneeze in a silent library. The sudden ache that settled over my chest wasn’t foreign to me one bit, it happened every time I looked at Bucky, as much as I wanted to tell him how I felt I knew it wouldn’t be a good idea, he loves me like a sister and I should be happy with that, I’d rather have that than nothing at all…

“Steve…it’s not that, it’s the fact that you guys would start a fight over something so silly, I love you both to the moon and back, but I don’t care about what people say about me, I’m upset that you put yourselves in danger over me. I’m not worth the trouble it would cause and after the shit I’ve done, it’s not like I don’t deserve it.”

Bucky was silent the whole time, at times he looked like he wanted to disagree but a look from Steve shut it down, we all fell into a comfortable silence after that, which for the 3 of us is pretty fucking weird considering Steve and I are normally annoying the hell outta Bucky, what can I say me, and Steve have amazing singing voices. I stole a quick look at the pair of them, considering they both looked like shit it was actually a very difficult choice about which idiot I should clean up first, then I remembered that Steve has the immune system of an asthmatic grandma, so I dunked his cut-up hands in the warm water a little bit harder than I meant to, but I’d be lying if I said the squeal he let out wasn’t funny.

It really didn’t take me long to get him cleaned up at all, then again I do this like 8 times a week with the moron, you’d think after about 10 split lips the kid would learn his lesson, but apparently not cause he’ll be back at it in the morning. I need to start charging him for medical supplies, I’m practically a hospital at this point. As Steve stood up to leave, he paused and looked towards me with his sad puppy eyes, and I’m no monster so of course I gave him a hug, thank god he’s not as short as when were kids or his face would be right in my chest region, I don’t think an accidental motorboat is on his list of top 10 things to do. With one final look from Buck, Stevie boy took his clothes and went into the spare room, leaving us both to talk which could take a while cause we’re both stubborn asses. Que the awkward silence….

“I am sorry Doll…I just couldn’t stand back and hear those assholes talk about you like that. I love ya too much for that…”

Okay ouch, the sister zoning wasn’t necessary Barnaby.

I knew in my heart I meant every single word he said, Bucky was never the one to start the fights unless it was over his family and I understand that I do, if I were in the same position I’d do the sae for them. The dejected sigh that left me wasn’t missed by him, I chose to ignore his reaction to it and moved closer to him, the cuts on his hands were a little deeper than Steve’s, not that it stopped me from slamming his hands into the hot water as a tiny bit of revenge. Because I’m such a nice person, I chose to ignore the hiss of pain and glare directed at me from my good ol’ Bucky boy, plus I was focusing on cleaning his cuts.

“Buck…I don’t need you to say sorry, I understand why you did it, I just hate that you can be so careless about your own safety, what if you get into a fight whilst I’m working, and something happens? I’d never be able to forgive myself that I wasn’t there for you when you needed me most, I love you and Steve so so much, but it hurts me to see you do this to yourselves….”.

The time we spent sat together was lost to me, Bucky didn’t say anything after that and left me to clean his hands whilst he got lost in his thoughts, not that I minded. It’s the times like these that help me realise just how much pressure he puts on himself, it’s like he has to be the one to hold up the weight of the world, but he doesn’t realise he doesn’t have to do it by himself and it breaks my heart. But I wished that he didn’t tilt his head down when he’s feeling sombre and sad because I can’t see his fucking face, it kinda makes cleaning his cuts a bit hard ya know ? Reluctantly I stood up and went back to the sink, the rag I used to clean his hands was beyond filthy at this point and I don’t really fancy wiping ouch juice all over his face, by the time I’d turned back around Buck had his head in his hands.

You know it’s bad when he’s like this, Buck never lets anyone see just how much stress he’s under, the only other person that’s ever seen him in this state is Steve, I moved back over to him and placed the rag back down on the table, my main focus now being cheering up my Bucky. As it turns I didn’t have to do much, once he saw my shadow in front of him, his head lifted automatically as his eyes searched mine, the level of exhaustion in his eyes was almost enough to make me cry, I couldn’t help the hand that reached out to cup his cheek, nor the other hand that began to run through his hair. It was almost like I put him under a spell, Buck’s eyes closed in relief as his head fell forward to rest on my upper stomach, at some point his looped his arms around my waist to pull me closer to him, I couldn’t help but pepper the top of his head in small kisses to try and cheer him up.

This is the part of him I love the most, the moments where he isn’t afraid to let his guard down and for once let someone help him, to take the burden off his shoulders and relax for a while, even if he doesn’t love me the way I love him, I still wouldn’t trade it for the world.

He has and always will be my home….nothing can or will change that.

And that's Number 14 done and dusted, let me know what you all think, thank you for reading!

All My Love,

Rose xxx

@purelydarling

#winter soldier x reader #winter soldier #captain america #captain america x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #mcu #reader #fanfic #reader insert #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader

[honeysparker]

two slow dancers | p.p

chapter 1: last ones out

summary: y/n stark has always hated peter parker but her hate is taken to a new level when she finds out he's the soul heir to her dad's legacy. sadly, its up to these two angsty teenagers to protect the world and they cant do that if they're fighting all the time.

or

y/n beats peter's ass and he likes it

enemies to lovers, slow burn

WORD COUNT: 2.8k

WARNINGS: mention of death, y/n is annoying so that's a warning...

(NOT MY GIF)

You couldn’t place the moment when you first realized syou hated Peter Parker.

Maybe it was when you saw your dad being more tender with him than he ever had been with you in your entire life. Maybe it was when he got invited on his first mission even though he had only been training for three months. Or maybe it was the way everyone seemed to like him, without him even having to try. Whenever it was, didn’t matter, because all you felt for him right now was unadulterated rage.

The Avengers was your dad’s team to lead. It was your dad’s idea in the first place and now he was the sole heir to everything concerning it. And now, as you sat across from your dad’s lawyer in his large Upper East Side office with Pepper lightly squeezing your hand, you couldn’t contain your rage. “What the fuck do you mean “it belongs to Peter Parker”?”

“Language,” Pepper sighed from her seat.

“It means any business regarding the Avengers and money set aside for them, belongs to Peter Parker.” Legal started. “This include the compound, the technology inside of it, and the rights to anything Mr. Stark was working on before his unfortunate passing.” He picked a piece of lint from the sleeve from his shirt and leaned back in his comically large chair, only infuriating you more.

“Isn’t he like a toddler? How is it legal to even give him that much money or power?” You snarled, ripping your hand from Pepper’s to throw up in the air. You knew you got worked up way too quickly, and you were aware how silly you looked flailing your arms around in anger, but sometimes you couldn’t contain yourself. Your dad’s legacy was being handed to an overgrown pre-teen who cuts his own hair and you couldn’t do anything about it. You might have been next in line to be the CEO of Stark Industries, but the Avengers always had a soft spot in your heart and now that was being ripped away from you from none other than Peter Parker.

The first time you met him you were glassy-eyed and naive and wanted nothing more than your dad’s acceptance, so you tried. You tried hard to like him and to not clench your fists every-time he got a pat on the back from your father. You tried to laugh at his corny jokes and boyish charm and not feel the urge to rip his eyes from his sockets every time you caught your dad looking at him a little too lovingly. You tried hard not to curse him for the fact that you weren’t a boy or that you were never quite enough for your dad, but you couldn’t. Every time you saw him you saw everything you weren’t and it took just too much effort to pretend that it didn’t bother you.

So you did everything in your power to avoid him. You trained on days you knew he had robotics, ducked behind counters, and ran into random rooms whenever you heard his voice, just so you didn’t have to be an absolute asshole to him, but it never worked out quite that well. Whenever you heard his sweet innocent voice mumble a “Thank you, Mr. Stark.” you couldn’t help but reveal yourself just to mock him, or poke fun at how starry-eyed he looked when he was admiring your father. You and him were a recipe for disaster and it upset your dad, so you couldn’t help but try for his sake but he wasn’t here and you had just one more reason than ever to let out your rage against Peter Parker.

“You’re right, however, the minute he turns eighteen, it’s all his.” Legal leaned forward, folding his hands in front of him on his desk, a look of almost pity on his face and you could tell he was trying to make you feel better. “Your dad wrote it in his will, so it’s legally Mr. Parker’s, but if Mr. Parker wanted to hand it over to you when he turned eighteen, then it could be all yours. For now, the team will be led by no other than Steve Rogers and on the day of Mr. Parker’s eighteenth birthday, we will meet in order to hand it off to him.”

You could feel your eyes swelling and your chest getting heavier as you sat there and listened to his words but you stayed glued to your seat. You never thought it would come to this, you sitting in some lawyers office on the verge of tears while your inheritance was being handed off to some pretty boy from Queens. You’ve had your moments with your dad before where you felt like just punching him straight in the face, but this was different. You wanted to hate him but he was dead and that would do no one any good. And more than anything, you wished he was here, so you could yell at him or attempt to hurt him in any way but he wasn’t, and you couldn’t, and just the thought of it made you feel more guilty than you ever imagined. Your dad had sacrificed his life for the entirety of the world and you were sat here upset about his will and you never felt more like a spoiled brat in your life.

But this wasn’t about money. This was about the fact that if you wanted to stay in touch with the Avengers or go on missions, you would have to do so through Peter. This was your dad’s sick way of linking you to Peter for the rest of your life and you hated it. Peter wasn’t family, he was barely a friend and now your dad’s legacy rested in his lanky, fragile hands. The worst part was that you knew Peter didn’t deserve it. He hadn’t lived long enough to disappoint your dad or see the face he makes when you really upset him, or endure the insane amount of pressure that was put on you the minute you turned ten. He didn’t have to deal with half the shit that came with being a Stark and yet a huge part of that legacy was given to him with not even half the work done on his part.

What hurts the most is your dad not even trusting you enough to lead the Avengers. If you had any suspicion that he didn’t believe in you before, they were all confirmed now and you could feel it chipping away at your self-esteem. There was something about Tony Stark that made you want him to love you. Maybe it was his unearned confidence, or how he practically moved through every room like he was the one who owned it (in most cases he was), but whatever the reason, you weren’t immune to it. You wanted him to love you as much as he loved his suit, or the Avengers, or Peter, really anything he took his time with, but he didn’t. You didn’t get the loving side of Tony Stark, you got the cold, unforgiving, and expecting side of Tony Stark and it killed you. Everytime you got knocked down in a fight or a bad grade on your test it killed you knowing you would have to defend yourself to your dad. Yet here you were again, defending yourself to him from beyond the grave.

You inhaled a shaky breath, standing up quickly and grabbing your bag that was loosely thrown over the side of the chair. “Thank you, Legal. If I have any more questions, I guess I’ll contact you.” You tried to make your voice sound as firm as possible, but you knew you didn’t have the confidence you came in there with, so all you did was turn on your heel and make a beeline for the exit, hoping Pepper would get the hint and follow.

You practically fell into the hallway but quickly gathered yourself as you began to stare up at the glimmering ceiling. Legal’s hallway was beautiful and littered with ivory columns and paintings that looked like Van Gough painted them himself. If you stare long enough at one you could see the places where the paint gathered together at one spot and didn’t quite blend in with the other colors or where little parts of the paintbrush hair got lost in the painting. They were beautiful and raw and for a moment took you out of whatever episode you were having. Your hand reached out to touch one, slowly and unsure, before a voice broke you out of your trance. “Y/N,” Pepper put a soft hand on your shoulder. “you ready?”

You nodded gently, both of your heels clicking on the marble floor as you left the building as your heart sat firmly in your throat. What you liked about Pepper was that she didn’t ask questions. She didn’t ask about your biological mom, she didn’t ask how you felt about your dad’s passing, and she didn’t ask you how you were feeling at the moment. She knew. She knew how you felt about most things and did her best to be there for you in ways she knew you would receive well. She invited you to watch a movie with her every night and would buy you your favorite candy if she knew you were feeling particularly worse that day. She allowed you to sit close to her and share the fluffy blanket that you both adored so much, and just recently you two started watching Gilmore Girls together. But what you liked most about Pepper is that she stood up for you in a way a mom would. She would kiss your cuts and bruises after a particularly long fight and scold Tony for yelling at you in the way that he did. She would sit by you when you cried, not saying a word or touching you too much because she knew you didn’t like that all that much. She made your lunch and bought cooking classes for the two of you so you could make dinner together. Overall, Pepper was perfect and she was always there for you in the way she was now.

That night Morgan came waddling into your room with her stuffed pig in her little arms and you couldn’t help but smile. She reached out for you with her free arm and you helped her into your bed, cuddling up to her and pushing wet strands of hair from her face. She was entirely too young to have to go through what she went through, but you were happy that her last memories of your dad were good ones. You might not have been around to see the way your dad was with Morgan, but Pepper told you all about it and got teary-eyed every time. You also couldn’t bring yourself to be jealous of the love she received from your father because she was truly every good thing about him in the tiniest body. You may have both lost him, but you both gained a new pathway towards him and that was probably why she was in your bed every night. Sometimes you wonder if she’s sleeping with you to make you feel better or if you’re sleeping with her to make her feel better. Regardless, every night you and her share your king bed and somehow still end up tangled in each other.

The one and only thing, however, that annoyed you about Morgan, was her undying love for Peter. Since you came back, she wouldn’t stop asking for him, and that was after meeting him one time. At breakfast it would be “Where’s Peter?” and at dinner it would be “Is Peter joining us?” and the answer would always be, “He’s not coming, Morgan, stop.” Which she would reply to with a pout or just a loud cry and it was getting on your nerves. It was yet another Stark that Peter had won over and you were absolutely on the verge of losing it, and the last person you wanted to snap at, was your little sister who still believed everyone was good. She still had a good and innocent heart and you owe that to the version of your dad she got, and you couldn’t help but think that if maybe you got that version, you wouldn’t be as messed up as you are.

Tonight, however, she was extremely cuddly and you wondered if she could tell that you had a bad day. As Tangled played in the background, you could sense her giant eyes looking up at you, so you turned to look at her and she gave you a soft smile that told you that everything was alright. So you placed a gentle kiss on her nose and avoided her giggles as you pulled her closer to your side.

“I don’t like you sad,” She mumbled, her little breath getting more faint as she grew tired. “Daddy didn’t like you sad either, he said he was sorry.” She never talked about your father and you assumed it was because the wound was still fresh but now she was telling you that your dad felt some type of remorse and you didn’t know how you felt about that. So you pushed her hair back and attempted to fall back asleep in hopes that you could forget that she said that all together.

The next morning you woke up with Morgan’s entire body on top of yours and your neck in immense pain. It was your first day of school and although you were done with your education in general, your instincts were not about to allow you to be late to your first day of senior year. You really dreaded going to school now, especially since you knew you would see Peter and the last time you saw him practically attacked him. Well, you did attack him, and had to be pulled off by Steve who had a hard time matching your strength. You really didn’t know how you would react to seeing him, especially after the meeting yesterday, but there are some things you can’t escape, and the hardships of high school are one of them.

When you got to school you could tell that your dad was probably laughing at you from heaven above because the very first thing that happened to you was Peter Parker’s solid but firm body ramming into you at full speed and nearly knocking the life out of you. He landed on top of you and you struggled from underneath him to push him off, trying to gather your things as you stood.

“Y-Y/N, I am so so sorry.” He shook, avoiding eye contact and moving to pick up the rest of your papers from the ground. You wanted to smile because it was you who made him that scared, but you were also pissed because not only did he take your inheritance, but he also knocked the living shit out of you within the first minute of the first day of school and you knew you would bruise. You were shorter than him but somehow he looked so small as he stood in front of you. He was more tan than when you saw him earlier in the summer and his hair was longer but more curly. He still had that panic in his eyes that he always had when he saw you but he was more confident in himself. You could tell by the way he stood up straight and reluctantly met your eyes. He almost offered you a small smile, but stopped himself when he realized that you wouldn’t receive that quite well.

“Watch where you’re going, Parker.” You practically spit at him, your eyes never leaving his. “You made me drop all my shit and I’ll be damned if I lose another thing because of you.” You grabbed your book out of his hands and held it close to your chest as you watched his mouth fall open at your statement.

“W-what does that mean?” He questioned with a hint of sadness behind his eyes and something else you couldn’t just place. “Cause i-it’s not my fault o-or wasn’-”

“Save it, Parker.” you cut him off and you knew you were maybe being too harsh because it wasn’t his fault your dad handed so much to him, but that couldn’t stop your words from being laced with venom. “You’ve done enough, and I am sick of you ruining my life.” You turned and left because you said what you needed to and didn’t feel the need to explain yourself to your dead dad’s ex lap dog and you weren’t about to start hearing him out.

But you felt bad, you really did, as you turned to get one more glance of the sad boy standing stunned in the hallway. He looked as if he saw a ghost and any confidence he had, was surely drained after your tiny altercation with him. You watched as he picked up the rest of the stuff that was his and made his exit through the front door of the school, and even you knew you had to make this right.

authors note: hi! omg my first chapter!!! i hope you like it and can give me feedback even if u hated the shit out of it like let me know u hated it idc,,, love peter but i need this enemies to lovers slow burn i know they deserve so stick it out with me and Maybe i don't know be my mutual!!

#peter parker #peter parker imagine #stark!reader #spiderman #spiderman imagine #peter parker one shot #peter parker x reader #peter parker series #peter parker angst #peter parker fanfiction #peter x stark!reader #tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland one shot #tom holland x reader #peter parker fan fic #tom holland fan fic #marvel imagine

[joeyglowy]

Can i request Osamu having a crush on a really short girl

Course you can! I’m pretty short myself so, SHORT GIRLS REPRESENT. I hope you don’t mind, but this crossed over into a boyfriend scenario because, you know, boyfriend Osamu is supreme. 

Miya Osamu x Fem! Short! Reader - 1600+ words

WRAPPED.

Unlike his brother, Osamu was actually a decent person.

Even when he was crushing on you, Osamu was very careful and observant to things that you were particular to and all the other idiosyncrasies you might have.

Being particularly vertically challenged, that was quite unfortunately, a lot.

He found it a particularly visually appealing and rather fucking adorable image to compare you to that of a cat. You hissed a lot, which he always found amusing but he supposed, it was all in fairness as you’d swat away the callous grins of people that tried to use you as an arm rest. You bristled quite a bit too, it reminded him of a cat puffing out their chest or their hairs standing on edge and ready to strike. You’d give people death glares at their incessant and incredibly uncreative puns (which Osamu found was justified as they were all, in fact, quite unoriginal and he could come up with much better if given a chance but refrained for sake of retaining a status where he could be viewed as a candidate for the occupational dream position that is your suitor).

You also spent fifty per cent of your existence puffing your cheeks out because for some reason no one wanted to take you seriously. It was simply ridiculous, just because you were discriminated against in the gene pool concerning the category of height, doesn’t mean you deserve any less respect than anyone else!

As such, in the crushing stage, Osamu was very deliberate to never poke fun of your height, no matter how tempting the urge was but he found himself smiling unconsciously around you anyways because he’s not blind.

You were so incredibly endearing in everything you did, he just couldn’t bring himself to pull away.

Which is why when he saw you sending smiles that seemed to be reserved just for him, or the way your eyes would twinkle when you’d see his larger than life stature in the halls, he finally brought himself to just ‘fuckin’ confess already, yer makin’ me sick with all the mush and smush, it’s embarrassin’ to be seen around ya whenever she’s there!’ as so eloquently put by his pickle headed brother.

But just this once, his brother’s advice was not completely useless, he supposed. You returned his feelings in full and Osamu remembered being so ecstatic that he picked you up and had spun you around before encasing you in fervent hug because finally he could just completely wrap himself around you and not be issued a restraining order afterwards. He remembered you getting quite embarrassed but you still had clung onto him with just as much tenderness anyway. Rarely did Osamu ever lose his composure like that but with how charming you were, your gravitational pull was too strong and all he could do was hopelessly collide with you—any battle against gravity is a futile one after all, you’ll just get send pummelling to the ground. Not that he minded since you were the one doing the pummelling.

Time skip to now, with all those formalities out of the way and the careful tiptoeing no longer applying to him since he held immunity as your boyfriend… he became an insufferable shit.

Osamu was an avid cuddler, and a sleepy one at that.

You’ve lost count of all the times Osamu would use your lap, arms, crook of your neck, sometimes just flat out sitting on you to take a nap because apparently, you were ‘perfect pillow size’.

AKA, you were his personal body pillow.

Apparently he liked how small you felt in his arms, he joked that all your pent up anger made you warm and more inviting to cuddle too.

In fact, he was even doing it right fucking now.

You groaned as you almost lurched into the kotatsu to feel what could have easily been the weight of a bear choosing to hibernate on a boulder (or in this case, your rather small frame) in the midst of you trying to do your physics homework. You huffed, irritated down to the bone as you even felt your neck being pushed down, feeling Osamu’s chin digging into your scalp as he took a casual whiff of your hair (which smelt like mangoes… damn, now he was craving mangoes). Your eye twitched.

“Osamu!” you cried out but your retaliation was met with a melodious hum. You felt yourself getting warmer as he chuckled, the rumble reverberating through his chest and onto your back before he left searing tracks of burns on your neck, brushing your sensitive skin with his nose and warming it with his breath. He settled his chin onto your shoulder, humming contently as he slouched. He was no better than a sloth finding the perfect tree to take a three day nap on. You flushed, your grip getting a little too strong for your pen as it creaked in response. “I’m trying to study here, you’re crushing me!”

Osamu, not minding the fact that he had poured his entire weight on you, yawned playfully as he just buried himself deeper into your burning neck. “Nah, I’m good. You’re pretty warm too,” he added scathingly as you pouted, feeling yourself get hotter, not appreciating this abuse of strength and power.

“Must I be harassed by everyone in my life? Woe is me, I’m being bullied for body constraints that I can’t control,” you moaned melodramatically and Osamu blinked in contemplation. He peered over your shoulder and he supposed he was being an obstruction to your studying. He grimaced, well, he did have you face planted into the kotatsu. While he was rather warm in this position and having your frame fit perfectly in his, almost like Russian dolls, he didn’t actually want to disturb you too much, last thing he wanted was for you to get upset at him.

“Fine, I’ll let go–” he had started, attempting to inch back as the shackles that were his well-built arms unlocked their hold on you and were slowly retracting until—

“Keep your goddamn hands around me or I will kick you out.”

Osamu blinked in surprise to find you tightly clasp your hands around his wrists and roughly crossed them over your stomach again, huffing once more. He couldn’t help laughing at that as you kept puffing like a steam engine. “I just wanted you to lay off so I can sit up straight and not parallel to the table! Didn’t say you had to let go,” you argued adamantly although Osamu could see your cheeks were stained a rosy red and he couldn’t help biting his lip, smiling.

“[Name], if you keep that up, I won’t let go at all,” he whispered lowly into your ear, smiling sensually before he was rudely interrupted by the back of your fingers swatting him away.

“I don’t mind that but stop leaning all your weight on me. My friends do that enough and you’re heavy babe.” As if to prove your point, you playfully slapped his inner thigh to express your annoyance. Osamu blinked absentmindedly at the snare drum sound that had resounded, still feeling the stinging impact of your hand that left lingering heat and anticipation crawling over his skin. “You’re literally a solid block of muscle which is heavy Osamu, I don’t need you giving me back problems this early in life, I’m not furniture just cause I’m short you know.”

Even as you were berating him, Osamu found his pout slowly disappearing. Sometimes he forgot how annoyed you get with these sort of things and although one could simply attribute it to you overreacting, he knew that you really were probably sick of it by now. He didn’t want to add to that. Guiltily he pushed himself straighter up, allowing you to have your back perpendicular to the floor again as you sighed in relief but found Osamu hiding his nose into your shoulder.

“M’sorry. Short jokes are overrated. I just like doing this because you’re warm. If you want, you can use me as a chair,” he mumbled out the offer and immediately you found your heart melting and your internal structures crumbling as you became as flexible as water and the expanse of Osamu’s wonderfully sculpted body was your container. Even though Osamu was tall enough to comfortably use your head as a head rest, he much preferred your shoulder since it was ‘closer’ to you in a way, something that you also appreciated.

“Maybe, and while you are quite comfortable and big enough to be a rather suitable chair, I think you’re closer to a backpack… or extra baggage than anything.” Osamu’s brows furrowed, the lines streaking across his forehead in annoyance, miffed by this statement. However, before he could protest, like a cat waiting to prey on the little mouse that finally decided to come out of its hole in the wall, when he finally brought his face into the open air, out of the comforts of your shoulder, you attacked his nose with a quick and swift kiss. He stiffened in surprise as you grinned cheekily at him.

“I don’t think a chair could ever be as cute or as soft as you Osamu.”

Satisfied with his stunned expression and the peaches of pink on his cheeks, you returned back to physics with an amiable smile that obviously meant you weren’t thinking about physics at all. You snorted to feel Osamu digging his face into your shoulder, letting out some sort of muffled, feral growl but you playfully ignored him and continued your work.

Osamu concluded that once you were done with physics, he’ll have to convert this chair into a bed because there’s no way he’s letting you get away with that one scot-free.

You really did have him wrapped around your finger. Or, maybe your whole body in this case, but the metaphor still stands.

#miya osamu #miya osamu x reader #miya twins #whipped for osamu club #request #haikyuu!! #haikyuu osamu #inarizaki #a hint of atsumu because he must be involved in everything osamu does #haikyuu

[princess-of-the-corner]

Okay so a while back I discussed that some episodes changed in the Hero Chat AU. And I wrote a post detailing the changes to various episodes. 

However, I recently realized that some episodes of Season 2 would’ve changed too. And that my original post on Season 3 didn’t include Weredad. 

So here’s the episodes that changed and why/what changed. 

Queen Wasp:

Let's start here. Basically the ending is the place where things change. Instead of encouraging Chloé to continue being a jerk in an attempt to please her abusive mother, Marinette tells Chloé that she shouldn't have to do that, that the situation's fucked, and that Chloé deserves better and can decide for herself to be a better person or not.

Chloé finally has the breakthrough of the idea that she doesn't need Audrey's love, and that even if her attempts had worked, that's no longer the kind of person she wants to be.

Marinette respectfully declines Audrey's invitation to New York. Because as much as she wishes she could punch Audrey, she knows that could have several consequences. Audrey is unused to someone declining her, and resolves to stay in Paris to try to convince Marinette to take the internship.

This really hurts Chloé, but she doesn't blame Marinette for Audrey's actions.

Malediktator.

Chloé is still reeling from the events of Queen Wasp so she's a bit quieter and not really enjoying the glory like she was in Canon. So she doesn't make that video thing.

Other people are still talking about Queen Bee and Queen Wasp though. Some people make various comments along the lines of "ugh she was being such an attention whore! Obviously she stole the Bee Miraculous because Ladybug would never think someone like her could ever be a Hero."

Both Adrien and Marinette shut that shit down quick. The class actually listens because Mari isn't using her usual "let's be nice and not insult people even when they annoy us" voice but her "you guys are being assholes and I won't stand for it!" Voice. Which is a voice she usually only uses toward Chloé, not when defending her.

Alya asks Marinette about it though, because why is she suddenly defending Chloé of all people. Marinette is basically like "remember how her mom was? Can you imagine what you'd be like if every conversation with your mom was her insulting you and not bothering to remember your name?"

Alya gets the picture and feels a little guilty. Marinette also tells her that she and Chloé had a conversation about that, and Chloé is deciding to stop trying to get Audrey's nonexistent love and is going to work on being better. She also reminds Alya to be patient because it's a process.

When Chloé gets home, her dad notices she's upset. Trying to help, he gives her various gifts and offersto use his power as Mayor to 'fix it' like usual. Chloé snaps at him, telling him that won't help this time. Feeling powerless, he gets Akumatized. 

The Akuma fight is the same, pretty much. Though Marinette's hesitation about giving Chloé the Bee again is less about thinking Chloé is "worthy" and more about the fact that Hawkmoth might target her if Queen Bee comes back. Also when Chat is acting like a cat, he hisses at Audrey and tries to scratch her.

Post-battle, Chloé talks to her dad and tries to explain a little better that this isn't a problem he can just magically wave away. It needs to be worked on. Unfortunately he gets the idea that she means the whole family should spend more time together so she and Audrey can get along. It's frustrating but Chloé appreciates the effort. 

Catalyst/Mayura

The biggest difference is that when discussing their good deeds for Heroes' Day, Chloé doesn't mock anyone, and instead of saying "uh, I am a Hero?", she says her good deed is to work on being nicer to people. Some classmates are skeptical but oh well.

The "bee signal" also doesn't exist, and Chloé is only teasing toward Chat when he shows up to give her the Bee.

During the fight, Chloé is only worried about her dad being Akumatized again, not her mom. Also, while Dark Cupid does hit her, I have headcanons about Chloé's emotions being complicated and mixed up enough that she's sort of immune to Dark Cupid.

She still becomes Queen Wasp again, but you know.

At the picnic, both Alya and Nino have come around to the idea of Chloé being better, having fought by her side as Heroes. Chloé is actually attempting to nicely socialize, and they help out. So do Mari and Adrien but that's after the "everyday Ladybug" thing. Which Chloé laughs at because identities!

There are two bonus scenes after this. One is Marinette convincing Master Fu of her plan to add more Heroes.

The second where Ladybug and Chat gather the Heroes and tell them that, because Hawkmoth has upped his game, they will be getting their Miraculous permanently. Although they tell Chloé that to protect her better, she needs to pick a new name/costume and pretend to be her replacement.  

Weredad:

Finally to the Season 3 episode I forgot. Anyway.

The initial fight with Gigantitian is a little different. Part of the bakery does get destroyed, which sends several of the Heroes panicking. But Ladybug assures them she saw Marinette get out safely. 

Anyway. As there's more Heroes, someone else returns August to his mom, pacifier included.

Meanwhile, Chat goes to check on Marinette because even if Miraculous Cure fixed it, she could've still been hurt. Because Chat isn't looking for Ladybug, just Marinette, he doesn't begin to connect any dots and Marinette doesn't panic and fake confess.

Marinette's parents walk in on a worried Chat fussing over Marinette's safety. Now is when Mari and Chat panic, trying to explain what Chat's doing there but making it kinda sound like a secret relationship thing.

Tom invites Chat for dinner, and he accepts, much to Mari's confusion. Chat explains that it's hard to say no to the dinner, but they can also explain better then.

There's a scene between Tom and Sabine while cooking where Sabine points out that the kids didn't say they were together, and Tom explains that while he'd be happy for Marinette if it was, it's not about that. It's more about how he saw exactly how young Chat was, and how young the other Heroes are. The dinner is planned to be partly a potential "meet the boyfriend", but more of a "hey kid if you need some place to go we're. Here for you". That gets Sabine in on the thing.

Chat comes to dinner and things are a little strange. Tom's questions are less "what are your intentions with my daughter" and more "what's your home life like?".

Eventually Chat says the thing of "while Marinette is amazing and someone would be lucky to have her, even if I weren't in love with Ladybug, I would have to turn her down because it's dangerous for Civilians to be close to the Heroes because Hawkmoth could use them."

Instead of being upset at Marinette's heartbreak, Tom's anger over "how dare children be forced to be Heroes and have to deal with the possible threat toward anyone close to them!" Comes back, and that's what gets him Akumatized.

Weredad isn't trying to just protect Marinette. He attempts to put all the Heroes in the cage of vines, wanting to protect them from having to fight anymore.

The Heroes still defeat him, and Tom apologizes for the irony of being Akumatized and attacking them because he wanted to protect them. He still offers the "if you need an adult in your life feel free to drop by!"  

#Hero Chat

[my-brothers-corrupted]

My Brothers, Corrupted

Chapter Three : Section Nine : The Separated Twins

Chapter One l Chapter Two l Chapter Three

Trigger warnings for physical and emotional abuse, hallucinations, and panic attacks.

On one side of the world, Henrik is exploring what it would mean to be free of Anti – what it would be to fight. On the other, Trick does something harmless that ends with him being punished and then even deeper under Anti’s hypnosis.

The Separated Twins

Anonymous asked: I believe in you. I believe in all of you that you can help Trick see that Anti isn't good for any of you and that he should not settle for the constant abuse he suffers under him just for the occasional glimpses of affection and attention. Please Blue... You and the others have to show him, show Trick that love shouldn't be painful. It should be warm, healing, and brings you up rather than down. -🦀

“Yeah,” murmurs Blue. “Yeah, I’d like for him to know that.”

He’s lying in his and Trick’s room, picking dully at Trick’s Switch, Noodle cautiously set at the end of the mattress beside him. He looks a little better than when you last saw him a couple days ago, but he’s still so worn. At least he’s wrapped up in Trick’s warm nest and wearing comfy old clothes.

“He deserves better,” he says. “I don’t know how to show him. But I’ll love him as hard as I can, damn sure… all of them. I miss the others.”

Anonymous asked: Hey Anti, maybe if you would treat your brothers like actual brothers and go to them for comfort instead of to beat them, maybe you wouldn't be such a miserable piece of shit. Ever think of that? Mindboggling, I know.

Anti breathes out a long sigh through his nose.

He’s moving around his room, his form shifting slower than you’ve ever seen it shift before, gradually making himself look more like Red. Flowers flicker and then die around his feet. He stretches and the flame of a candle breathes hotly towards the ceiling before settling down again. His body flickers moment to moment. His room is cleaner than it was before, much of the blood stained disappeared or hidden in the brown of the carpet, but printed pictures are beginning to take up the space on his wall.

“You’re all cliches of each other,” he says finally, voice thin and irritated. His eyes, when he turns to you, are vivid blue beneath glasses that look like Dok’s. “Nothing you have said has ever convinced me, spectators. Try to be a little more entertaining. I could turn you off again at any time.”

aether-mae asked: Hey Jackie, now that you’ve got max with you to help you out, I was wondering if u were still thinking of heading back to Peru to find Doc?

Ro and JJ are still with Max two days later.

Ro is wearing his new blue hoodie. He is clean. His cheeks have more color and there’s even a bit of sun in his face. He smells like honeydew soap because he’s been having a hot shower every day. He’s shaved.

He’s cut his hair too. Just a little. There’s no more dye in his hair. It’s his hair. He cut it. Well, with Dapper’s help. And some enthusiastic compliments from Max to boost his confidence.

He looks good.

Max is on the bed with Dapper, a stack of playing cards on the sheets between them.

“Okay, then I - do I need the joker? Mate, have mercy on me, you’re signing too fast. Hey! I’m a perfectly capable learner, I’ll have you know. Fine then, wait til I kick your ass at this. Oh, what, does that mean I lost? Shit. You rigged this. Next round I got you.”

Ro laughs and comes to sit beside them. Max pauses for a moment to grin at him before going back to his card game.

“Hey,” says Red after a little while.

“Yeah?”

“I checked with Dapper last night,” says Ro. “I was wondering if your offer to take us back to Dok in Peru still stands.”

Max looks up at Ro, smiling. Dapper gives him a fair chance and then steals all his cards.

“Wh - JJ!”

“Careful, he’s merciless.”

“No joke. Deal me another round. Really, though, Ro? You’d let me drive you? We can get another hotel tonight and be there in a couple days. I’d about die to see Henrik again.”

Red nods, smiling back at him. “Yeah, I mean it. We want our Dok back. Need to see my little brother. We might not have the others right now, but we’ll figure it out once we’ve got… Henrik.”

“Jackie,” says Max, clapping his hands together. “This is the best news. I’d love to. Can’t wait to see you fidget like a maniac through hours of car time.”

“Oh, fuck, don’t remind me.”

“Hahaha. Okay, yeah! Let’s head out tomorrow first thing, then! We’ll get a rental car if we can find one or start on the bus. Have to get you lots of snacks and entertainment, I know. There was this one time you and I were on a trip and by the end of it you were just about upside down in your seat. We were visiting Ireland so you could show me some of your home…”

Max and Dapper play cards. Max talks, loud and earnest and comforting. A friend. A friend who isn’t his family, a friend who wasn’t ordered to look after him by Anti. Just somebody who likes Jackie for Jackie.

Jackie sits on the bed and listens to Max talk for hours. Tomorrow, they’ll head back towards Lima.

Anonymous asked: Hey Anti what's those pictures in your room?

Anti pauses, his eyes narrowing, but he doesn’t bother to move you from position, letting you get a look at the pictures. They’re of his brothers. No, wait - just Doktor and Red and Dapper.

There’s one where Dapper has Red over his shoulder, leading him up towards the house in Peru, where Doktor is waiting to look after him. There’s one of Doktor and Dapper asleep side by side on their mattress. There’s one of Dapper staring out a window in Norway towards the glowing lights in the sky, one of Red hiking proudly up the mountain, one of Doktor staring placidly up at Anti, slicked entirely in blood and still holding a scalpel. All of them take place from the eye of a camera. Dok petting Noodle, Trick’s shoes just visible in the corner of the shot. Dapper looking sweet in his blankets and over-sized hoodie, hugging his bear to his chest. Red like a statue in motion, wielding his fighting staff, younger than you’ve seen him since Dapper sent him to the past. Rows and rows of pictures of them.

Anti shifts unhappily around his room, his body changing slightly, slightly. His hair curls up and tinges teal at the fringe, and he runs his fingers through his own hair like he’s petting himself.

Anonymous asked: How did you get all those pictures? Do you like take snapshots with your mind or something? Or did you have an actual camera?

“What’s the difference?” he grumbles. “I’m basically a walking hard drive. With a taste for blood. And, uh. I don’t know. Sentience. Hair. A couple too many teeth. I can go back and watch anything my cameras have recorded whenever I want. Printing them out is just moving data.”

He throws a knife at the wall, burying it just above one of Dapper’s teddies on a dresser.

spicydanhowell asked: seems like you really miss them, hm anti?

“Well, they’re mine, and I’m fucking pissed they’re gone, yeah!” He buries another knife on the teddy’s outline. “The only thing I know is that they’re fucking alive and probably not in jail. But I’ll have them back soon. And anyway, it doesn’t matter. Trick’s such a little sycophant he almost makes up for the others being gone. He’ll be home soon and then I can have some goddamn rest. This is some bullshit. Tell God I want a fucking refund.”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Wow, Anti. You actually miss your pets? Or do you really consider them your brothers?

“Family is a construct,” growls Anti, picking up the bear in his hands. “Dapper is a warm body. Doktor is an immune system. Red is a guard dog.”

He sighs and throws it aside.

“Fucked up, though. Used to hate how loud Red would be through the walls. Now I kind of want to hear him. What a little brat. Can’t believe he was separated from me. Bulletproof vest. Locked door. Guard dog. Safety.”

Anti puts his hands in his red hair.

Anonymous asked: Where's trick? Is he alright?

“Trick went to get some dinner and some books at the library,” Blue answers you, smiling faintly. “He really likes being allowed have some freedom. Just a bus ride and a couple errands, but he gets all proud, like he’s my breadwinner, taking care of me, haha. I love him. He’s mostly alright, but, uh. I have been noticing him acting strange.”

Blue draws his eyes away from the cartoon animal game he’s playing on Trick’s switch for a moment. “Something wrong in his head, I… I don’t know. He reacts strangely when I ask about Dok. I’m scared. I think it’s a trauma thing. He seems so spacey all the time. But he’s happy, I think? For the most part? Every now and then I wake up to him crying next to me, clutching at me, but who can blame him for that? I think I’d be more scared if he wasn’t upset that Dok was gone at all, which is… how he acts during the day. But yeah, I think he’s as okay as I could expect him to be, mostly. He plays this little thing constantly.”

Blue shakes the Switch at you for a second and the screen blacks out. Blue jolts, lifting his fingers away to see if he accidentally hit the power button.

“That’s not yours to play with,” comes a cool voice from his doorway.

Blue jumps and drops the Switch, letting out a hissing sigh through his teeth, annoyed and afraid, as he can’t help but be every time he’s in Anti’s presence these days. Every time he hears him, sees him, smells his oil smell or feels his electric sting, he is back on a Norweigan beach he barely remembers, back on the Rio Puturnayo, back in a hospital room, huddled on the floor as the blows rain down.

“Fuck off, Anti,” he spits.

Anti’s mouth curls with a snarl at him. “Poor little kitten,” he coos. “Poor stupid boy.”

“You don’t know anything about me,” says Blue.

“Or maybe I just don’t care,” answers Anti, slinking back into the living room, his eyes still on Blue as they both wait for Trick to get home.

bupine asked: why no pictures of trick or blue, anti? are you missing your boys? also, you seem to be having trouble keeping a stable form. any idea why that is?

“I have Trick and Blue,” grumbles Anti, throwing a hand up. “Don’t need to see them. Know where they are. Know that they’re safe. And I’m not - shut up!”

He glares down at his own body, flickering and flashing.

“I always glitch, that’s - I have a brand, goddammit! It’s this flesh that’s fucking horrible, I - motherfuck.”

He hisses and buries his claws in his own right arm, watching blood well up against the flesh for a second. Then the arm flickers back into incorporeality and the blood trickles onto the floor. He growls, yanking on his hair for a second, trying to keep calm.

“So infuriating,” he snarls. “I’m more powerful than I’ve ever been, but my own body rebels. Stupid fuck. Symbolic, probably, don’t you think? Even my own flesh knows I didn’t grow it myself.”

He barks out an odd laugh, shape-shifting again, that subtle, slow, constant switch. Just reassuring himself, with every moment that passes, that he can still do it. That he can still become data, immerse himself in code, travel by electricity. It’s just getting harder, that’s all.

And he is powerful. This, at least, is true. The windows of the house are blooming with flowers. The candles were Trick’s idea. Dozens of them lined around the house, constantly burning. A chance for his power to express itself instead of devouring him.

Anonymous asked: How are you feeling, Blue? It’s good to see you again!

“Thank you,” says Blue, cooling a little as Anti walks away, pulling you back to him and flopping back on the bed. “I’m feeling, well. I’ve kind of gone stagnant? Like the last couple days, I feel okay, but I’ve stopped… getting better, sort of. Just tired and kind of achey and, well, frail. Having bad headaches too, and I still, uh.”

He touches his foggy eyes.

“Tried glasses,” he says quietly. “Big thick prescription glasses. Trick called me Monty Mole for two hours without fail. But they don’t cut through much of anything. The world is a permanent blur, ha… but you know what! Otherwise, I’m okay. Just been resting. This asshole hasn’t bothered me too much.”

He lets his hand flail towards Anti irritably.

“Oh, and guess what?”

He smiles winningly at you and then -

He pushes himself to his feet without help! All the way from sitting on the mattress on the floor to standing upright.

“Tada! Thank you, thank you, that’s right, I’m Blue the Magnificent, I’ll be here all week! Oh - shit!”

He crashes back towards the wall, laughing a little from the surprise and the slight embarrassment, though he still looks pleased with himself. He snatches up a cane that’s leaning on a windowsill and steadies himself on it, smiling at you.

“Tada,” he repeats warmly, standing upright.

“Meow,” cheers Noodle.

“Thank you, my dear.”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Is Noodle keeping you good company, Blue?

“Well,” sighs Blue. “The truth is I’m not really fond of cats.”

He stares down at Noodle and Noodle stares back at him.

“But after a bit of that hospital breakdown you saw, I know that Anti made me stop being fond of cats,” he adds softly. “And… killed mine.”

Noodle mewls softly, stepping forward to weave between his legs.

“So I’m trying to get used to him again!” says Blue, trying to find his cheerful voice. “Because I did like cats, I did! I don’t know what else he changed about my mind when he first took it over, but I want it back. And Anti can try to destroy me but I will keep fighting against it, even if only in these little ways.”

He summons his determination and leans down. Noodle bursts into throaty purring as Blue’s soft fingers scratch across his skull and golden kitten ears.

Anonymous asked: Hey any progress is good progress babey!! You’re doing so well! Very proud, so yes, cheers all around for Blue the Magnificent!

“I know, haha, thank you, yeah! I’m excited, I am! Like, it’s such a small step, but it’s a step, you know? It’s nice being able to get to the bathroom on my own and stuff like that. Honestly, when you’re really sick, it’s the small things that can be really demoralizing. Not that there was anything to be ashamed of! But it… felt like there was. Especially with how helpless I know I am in front of him.”

He glances over at Anti sitting in the den and he straightens his back fiercely, standing on that cane. He did good. He has to keep believing in himself. He’s making progress and Anti can’t stop him fighting.

Anonymous asked: HmmMMMM Anti it looks like your emotions are bleeding though a little bit....y’know cuz red is- yeah anyways, where did Chaser go?

“Great, great,” snaps Anti. “Yeah, I get it, betrayal of the flesh, blah blah. You know what, I already look fucking indistinguishable to the person I hate most in the world, so maybe destiny could just call that fucking good, but no, let’s add on to the discomfort of looking in a mirror.”

He kicks the stairs in the den space just for the hell of it. Stupid tangible feet.

“Not even my face,” he whispers, low and bitter. “He lives in the curves of me, in the cut of my jaw, in the way my eyes move. No matter how much I try to shape-shift. I wake up every morning looking just like him - but not like him - all over again. Bullshit. Made me a copycat and a fake at the same time. Bullshit.”

He heaves out a sigh, his black eyes stormy.

Laughter from the street interrupts his mood and he sits up a little, his face calming. He can hear Trick. Good, Anti’s sick of feeling alone. He gets up and looks through the window above the kitchen sink.

Trick must still be coming down the pavement because he can hear him talking and laughing, but he can’t see him. Who the hell is he talking to? Himself? Did his little mind finally snap? Is Anti going to have to burrow into his fleshy little head yet again?

“I’m telling you, I do like them!” he hears Trick laughing. “I do, I’m not lying, haha! It’s just I think the satay noodles are my favorite. But all the shit you guys cook is amazing, seriously. Yeah, I - no, I don’t think I have! Oh! Maybe I can try it tomorrow. Will you be there again?”

Anti stands back on his heels, frowning. His form flickers darkly.

Anonymous asked: We’re really proud of you, Blue. Really. You’ve been so strong though all of this. I’d be squishing you in a big hug rn if I could! Keep doing what you’re doing, be independent and don’t let no bitch tell you what you can’t and can do! You’ve got this :)

“Don’t let no bitch - haha, okay, thank you.” Blue laughs and sits down on the sill of his window, letting his head rest against the glass. “Hey, tell Trick to hurry up with dinner. That’ll be the real celebration. I love the hawker food he keeps bringing me. Glad I can eat for real, even if this is a little annoying.”

He takes the nasal cannula out of his nose in preparation for dinner. He’s getting better at breathing without it, even planning to try to sleep through a night without it soon. His lungs are recovering from the smoke and the burning. He breathes in deeply against the cool glass, his eyes noticing something out near the front of the house he’s never seen before, a colorful mess of cloth. Someone must have left it behind on the rusted old pole of metal that used to hold a hummingbird feeder or something. Weird.

Anonymous asked: Hey, trick! Whatcha up to?

Anti steps slightly back from the kitchen window and let his mind flood into the camera Trick carries with him.

Clothes shuffle and move around the screen. If you had to guess you would say Trick’s probably shoved the little camera in his hoodie pocket. From that one circle of light in the side of the pocket, you can see white hands with long red nails, and you can hear her tittering laugh over the sound of Trick’s almost breathless, enthusiastic talking.

“Dude, no! I’m telling you, these are for my nerd brother.”

“You’re sure? You’re sure? You’re not a secret professor of poetry, Connor?”

“Fucking look at me, do I look like a professor of anything?”

“Uh… skate-boarding?”

“Skate - ” He cuts himself off with a laugh and they both dissolve into giggles. Her hand brushes over his as they both gesticulate.

“Maybe weed?”

“I could be a professor of that, okay, you’re right. How about Minecraft?”

“Yeah, professor of Minecraft, I can see it. Kittens?”

“Now you’re just flattering me. I do love my kitten. Converse?”

“Noodle-eating?”

“Super Smash Bros.”

“America.”

“Just the whole of - hahaha!”

And they’re laughing together, there on the pavement just out of Anti’s sight as the sun glows red and pink over them. They’re laughing together and holding poetry books they picked out together at the library and take-out boxes full of hawker stand noodles and you know it’s Xin Yi, you know it is, and when there’s a soft silence and you can hear the both of them pause and look and breathe - well, then you know that he’s leaned in to press his chapped and loving mouth to her soft cheek, and that’s she smiling, and so is he.

Anti steps back again from the window.

He can hear the blood pumping loud, loud, loud through his head.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Trick! Trick! Be careful!

Trick’s still got his camera turned off.

The message goes to Blue.

You see his eyes flicker and his pupils shrink. His hands grip down tight around you.

“What?” he stammers. “What did Trick do?”

He’s on his shaky, shaky feet before you can answer. Staggering out into the den, using his cane, his oxygen strapped to his back. Trick. He has to protect Trick. That is all that matters.

“Trick?” he calls. “Amata?”

But there’s just Anti in the kitchen.

Still as can be.

The floorboards beneath his feet have burned down to the earth below.

Smoldering still.

Anonymous asked: Wait Anti don't punish Trick please! You know that he'd never leave you or doubt you or anything like that. For god's sake, he attached the collar that's traumatized him so much for you and never left your side these past days and helped you ground yourself and did those little things like the candles around the house for you. He's utterly loyal to you and he's undeniably yours, please Anti. Don't punish him for this.

“You can’t hurt him,” says Blue, over the soft hiss of the floorboards burning.

Anti doesn’t move.

“He loves you,” says Blue, louder. “Maybe more than anyone ever has. He’d do anything to make you happy. It’s horrible, but it’s true. He loves you or he thinks he does. Deeply, deeply. You can’t hurt him. They’re right. He’s done everything for you. He’d give you anything. Utterly loyal, undeniably yours. Maybe the last one of us who is. You can’t punish him for this. Just tell him no and he won’t - whatever he did, he’ll stop.”

Trick is coming up towards the door.

Anti stares at him, his eyes flickering. Black, brown, red, green, blue, white.

“Anti,” says Blue.

He is begging.

“Anti.”

spicydanhowell asked: you fucking did this though. in another world, if you were kind to them, they could have been a happy little brainwashed following for you. but you're not even kind enough to be a good tyrant... that's interesting.... you Drove them Away. they don't love you anymore. none of them

Anti can hear the words pounding through his own head.

You drove them away.

They don’t love you anymore.

None of them.

Anti has hurt, and hurt, and hurt, and hurt them.

He knows that.

But he always thought he would be enough to make it not matter.

He always thought he would be enough if he just tried.

Dapper is gone. Red’s not there to make him feel safe. Dok’s not there to help him if he’s hurt. Blue doesn’t want him. And all Anti has had for almost two weeks now is Trick.

Warm, loving Trick. The collar wrapped around his throat. His fierce blue eyes.

Anti thought he had been good to him. Kind to him. Warm to him.

And he still isn’t… he still can’t be… Trick still wants…

“Hey, Blue?” he says.

“What?”

“Why am I not angry?”

“You - are you not?”

He is paralyzed. Impaled. Petrified like a fossil.

“My chest hurts,” he says, and he leans over the silver sink of the unused home and vomits blood like a mortal.

Anonymous asked: You know he'd burn down the world for you if you asked him, would stay by your side even if you're burning in hell or lashing out at him. As Blue said, just order him or tell him that he can't do this ever again and he'll do it within a heartbeat. Please, Anti...

“Awww,” says Blue, and you can hear the cold sneer of his mouth even before you can see it. He moves on his shuddering legs to stand behind Anti, close enough that he can feel the burn of his own magic dammed up too powerfully in Anti’s chest. “Poor thing. Is my stolen magic making the little demon sick? Are you such a little virgin you get jealous of a single kiss on her cheek? What exactly are you compensating for that you can’t bear to see your fucking brother find a cute girl to hold hands with? Does that sting, Anti? Does it burn? Imagine if someone told you to hold that much power in for weeks… and weeks… and weeks… and then, after you lost control after all that obedience, they possessed you, cut you open, stole your soul, and blamed you for it. Would that hurt, do you think, little demon? Does it burn, Anti, does my magic burn?”

Anti turns like a snake striking to spit blood into Blue’s face, grabbing him by the throat and sending him crashing to the ground.

“Trick is the only one left who loves you,” cries Blue even as he scrambles away, his blue eyes flashing, his chest heaving for air. “Trick is probably the only person in the world who cares about you at all, and you’re going to hurt him because he blushed over a girl who showed him kindness? No wonder you’re so fucking miserable, you snake-faced son of a bitch. You need control so badly that you can’t even consider that we could ever love anyone other than you. How do you bear the twin system, anyway?”

“I’m the one who makes you love your twins,” hisses Anti, blood sliding out of his mouth. “You and Red could barely stand to look at each other before I wiped your minds clean.”

A burst of pain slams against Blue’s chest. “That’s not true!”

“Trust me, darling, it is, you can ask them. Red was baring his teeth at you, didn’t trust you, didn’t want you there. Then I swept it all away and told him to love you and he woke up not even knowing why he felt so fond of you. That’s what your whole relationship is based on. Just like your dislike of cats, Blue. I choose everything about who you are and you don’t even realize it.”

“Shut up!” screams Blue. “You’re a liar!”

“You’ll never be free of me. None of you will. This - this is the last straw, this and your traitorous brothers hiding away in South America. I won’t take any more of this. I will destroy this girl. Not just her but the warmth of her, the meaning of her, the need for her. Trick won’t even want anyone but me and the people I choose for him when this is over.”

“Guys?” squeaks a terrified voice at the door. “Wh - wh - what’s - ? Anti? Blue? Are you hurting each other?”

“Your fucking brother is losing his mind,” chokes Anti, turning to vomit over the sink again, fire licking across his teeth. “Shouting at me while I’m ill.”

“Don’t listen to him, Trick, he wants to hurt you for kissing that girl!”

Trick stares between the two of them, utterly flummoxed. Anti sets his gaze on him and a sudden terror rushes into his bones.

“A - Anti? Big brother?”

spicydanhowell asked: trick... sir... anti's gonna be mad at you for this???

“But - but - no,” stammers Trick, holding out his hands, confused, bewildered, terrified. “Anti, I… you’ve been so nice to me. You wouldn’t hurt me just for - she’s so nice, Anti, why can’t I - ?”

Anti’s hand draws back to strike him and Trick cowers and the blow -

The blow -

“Trick,” hisses Anti. Chokes Anti. Stammers Anti. “What - why would you - I don’t understand?”

“Anti,” says Trick, and then he starts laughing.

Anti stares at him, eyes huge. He looks down at Blue and Blue stares back at him, shaking his head.

“Anti!” Trick repeats, and grabs his shoulders. “Man, come on, what the hell!”

“Don’t laugh at me, you little brat!”

But he is, he’s laughing, and smiling at Anti, and holding his shoulders, and hugging him. “You’re so - oh, fuck’s sake, Anti. Are you jealous I kissed a girl?”

“No!”

“If you need help with girls, I could - ”

“I don’t care about girls, Trick!”

“Oh, well then maybe Blue or Red would be more help in that department, but - ”

“I’m angry at you!”

“But you wouldn’t hurt me,” says Trick softly, still smiling. “You would never hurt me.”

Blue stares up at Trick.

And he can see - oh, fuck, he can see the glaze of the hypnotism over his eyes. He can see the influence.

Trick can’t even comprehend it right now, that Anti would hurt him. Trick probably didn’t think twice about bringing Xin Yi back here.

Because Anti is his family and Anti loves him and Anti wouldn’t hurt him over a kiss on the cheek.

Right?

“Trick,” he hears himself whisper. “My little brother.”

How many times has Anti wormed inside his head today alone? How many of his thoughts are turned back towards him? How much of Trick is even still in there?

“You… didn’t even think about it, did you?” says Anti, very quiet. “How I would react to this.”

“No, I did! I want to tell you all about her, she’s so cool! Anti, she’s super cute, did you see her? And hey, I think they might have a brother, I could - ”

“Stop,” says Anti. “Stop. Let me breathe for a second.”

Trick stops immediately and fetches a towel from the bathroom, returning moments later to start wiping the blood gently from his mouth. “Poor thing,” he mumbles, touching Anti’s face without fear. “I’m sorry if I upset you, Anti. But you shouldn’t feel threatened. That’s kind of dumb, man.”

“I’m going to kill you,” growls Anti.

“Yeah, yeah,” says Trick, smiling at him.

And that’s it. It’s done. You see the moment Anti regains control.

The confusion is gone. The snake is back.

“Oh, Trick,” he soothes, reaching out to cup his face in return, and Blue gasps and hides his face as Anti’s eyes turn black and drowning. “You don’t understand, do you, little brother?”

Trick’s eyes unfocus like a blind man’s. He hums distantly, the towel pausing on Anti’s cheek.

aether-mae asked: Trick, it’s not safe to have friends outside of your family at the moment, as much as I hate to say. Anti will definitely hurt her to keep you all to himself.

“You’re going to hurt me?” asks Trick distantly, swaying slightly on his feet.

“I thought about it,” answers Anti, smiling sweetly at him, carding his hands through his hair. “It would have been so easy. Maybe I still will. Shove you in the shed and beat you til you’re sobbing for me to kill you.”

Trick’s eyes flicker, but his mouth is still smiling.

“It’s not your fault, really,” says Anti, brushing his fingers through his soft locks. “You have abandonment issues, don’t you?”

“Yeah, okay.”

“You just want everybody to love you, poor thing.”

“I do,” confesses Trick, his face faltering with grief. “I do.”

“Course you fell for a sweet girl. Blue’s been useless to you. Dok’s gone. You must have been confused. But, see, you don’t know what I know, Trick.”

“What, Anti?”

Anti puts his head down on his shoulder, staring up at him, his mouth close to his ear.

“I’ve seen girls break your heart, Trick.”

“Break my heart?”

Anti runs his fingers over the scar in Trick’s head.

“She made you do this… you don’t remember. I made you stop thinking about her. I set you free from her.”

“You… you weren’t being possessive. You were trying to protect me?”

“That’s right, little brother. Besides, what do you need her for? Your family is right here, Trick. You don’t want to give our cover away, do you? They’d send you off to jail… take all your brothers away from you… take me away from you. You don’t want that, do you?”

Trick shakes his head swiftly, making himself dizzy. He clutches on to Anti for support, eyes drifting back towards his skull.

“Stop it!” screams Blue, no longer able to stand it. “Leave him alone! You’re ripping him apart every day! He doesn’t like having you in his head?”

“You want me to bind you up in your own vines and beat you til you cry again?” snaps Anti, turning to level a violent glare at him. Blue is paralyzed beneath the gaze.

Anonymous asked: We've seen old magical books, Anti. Blue's magic is going to kill you. It's adjusting your form to fit its true host and it'll keep doing it until it wastes you away or gets rid of your old incorporeality. You've made quite the big mess for yourself, haven't you? And still all you can do is boil in rage and self-righteous anger. Your rage controls you, you've never been the one in control here. That'll never change, Antisepticeye.

Anti seethes with fury, turning his venom gaze onto you, clutching Trick tighter, tighter, tighter to his chest.

“You don’t want to see that girl ever again,” hisses Anti. “Unless it’s when the two of us go to slaughter her for ever laying a hand on what belongs to me.”

“What belongs to you,” repeats Trick distantly, hiding his face against his neck and humming a song to himself.

“You didn’t like being with her. The sight of her makes your heart race. You’ll feel ill if you see her again. You’ll want to hide and come back to me. You’re terrified she’ll hurt you like the first girl did. You don’t want that. You don’t want to be with anyone anymore. Just stay here with your family, with your brothers, where it’s safe. Where no one can hurt your heart. You won’t go. You won’t want anyone other than me.”

“No, I don’t.”

“In fact,” Anti adds in a snarl, turning back to you, and this, you can hear, is your punishment. “If you ever start to think that anyone is more important to you than me, I’ll take the memory of them from you forever.”

The slightest trepidation interrupts Trick’s daze. You see the flicker of his eyes.

“H… Henrik?” he whispers.

Anti’s possessive grip on him tightens, tightens, tightens.

“Yes,” he whispers. “If you ever break the rules like this again, I will make you forget even Henrik.”

Trick seems to wilt against him, panting softly.

“I have the power. You would forget everything about him. And he would still remember you, but you would only see a stranger. Wouldn’t that be just horrible?”

He nods against Anti’s shoulder.

“Anti, I - I’m sorry. I’m sorry, forgive me.”

“Don’t worry, Trick,” Anti whispers, gripping his hair. “I will help you make this right.”

Blue stares up at him from the floor, tears in his eyes. Anti smiles viciously back. His teeth are still red.

Yes. He is in control. No one else. And maybe it feels like the others abandoned him, betrayed him, turned against him, found someone new. But no - no. Soon, soon as Blue can travel, they will go back to Peru.

And then Anti will take his family back again.

No one else will get in the way.

No one else ever could in the past. Kamenye. Brody-Chen. Deshmuhk. Sforza. Every casual hook-up Marvin was sleeping with, every idiot friend or loyal coworker. They don’t even matter now. They’re dead, or gone, or scattered like cowards in hiding across the earth.

Anti looks up Xin Yi’s last name.

Koh. Pretty.

Koh won’t matter either.

“We will make this right,” he repeats.

And he does not notice the fabric fluttering on the hummingbird feeder in his front yard.

A warning sign.

There are consequences to the blood that Anti has shed across the earth.

There are survivors.

Anonymous asked: Tell me you didn't touch Chase's family, Anti. His kids??

Anti smiles down at Trick’s dazed face.

Then he slaps him so hard Trick goes crashing to the earth, a handprint red against his skin, and Blue lets out a scream on his brother’s behalf, crawling forward to snatch him away from Anti.

“Stupid fucker,” growls Anti.

“You’re disgusting!” screams Blue, hiding Trick against his chest. “Hurting other people just so you can feel like you’re in control! It’s pathetic!”

“I am in control!” Anti screams back, jerking forward fast enough to make Blue cry out in fear, grabbing his broken nose. Anti laughs hard, throwing his head back. “I’m the pathetic one? Every one else is like a squirming rat to me! Chase’s fucking kids. You should be grateful I don’t kill children. But it doesn’t matter. Either way, it doesn’t matter. He’ll never, ever see them again. Even if he could get free of me, those little brats are so deep in hiding even Red couldn’t hunt them down.”

“He has children?” cries Blue. “You took him from his family? Trick has children?”

“He belongs to me!” screams Anti. “He was always owed to me! The children were more of an accident than I was, and that’s a fucking miracle. Now get in your room before I decide I want to see you eating through a tube for the second time this month!”

Blue grabs Trick and scrambles back towards their room, his brother barely able to cooperate.

���Fucking girl, touching what’s mine!” he hears Anti scream, his body spasming apart into a myriad of violent colors, blood weeping down his chin again, meeting the open wound in his throat. Roots tear at his feet and the candles in the room burn like fire spirits performing a ritual to a war god. “Thieves, everyone, everyone! I hate outsiders, I hate intruders, I hate them! This is our story! The six of us and him! Anyone else is a distraction, an outlier, a mistake. Anyone else who tries to intervene can die like the worms they are.”

Blue drags Trick into his room and collapses, slamming the door shut behind them.

Anonymous asked: Literally- Bitch- Anon said "you let your rage control you" and you /immediately/ let your rage control you. Jesus christ your lack of self awareness is downright hilarious at this point Anti.

Your screen-four camera goes flying across the room the moment the message reaches Anti and crashes into Blue and Trick’s door, shattering your view into static. Blue lets out a little yelp, backing away from the door.

A drawn-out yowl like a tiny tornado siren from behind the mattress indicates Noodle’s terror.

“It’s okay, baby, it’s okay,” calls Blue to the cat, panting, pulling Trick into his lap and touching his reddened face. “Oh, Trick, Trick… my love, my amata, my brother… are you alright, my heart, are you okay? Your kitten wants you, yeah? Should I get him for you?”

Trick’s eyes are screwed shut.

He is crying in silence.

“My love,” repeats Blue in a whisper, pressing their foreheads together and gathering him into his arms. “My love. Here I am. Here I am. No one will hurt you now.”

Anonymous asked: It's literally in your own best interest to give Blue's magic back, Anti. It will kill you if you don't. YOU JUST VOMITED UP BLOOD. well, it IS your choice to keep it or not, but you won't have anyone to blame but yourself if it does something irreparable to you.

You can see him from the cameras in the corner of every room.

Panting over the sink.

Face white. Image moving.

“I’m powerful,” he whispers. “I’m more powerful than I’ve ever been. Every day, my control is stronger. At the end of every day, I’m so ill I think I will die, and I bleed and shake and grow ill like men do, b-but… but the rest of the day… my strength, my strength!”

He crumples slightly over the sink, his arms trembling.

“If I could just find a way to be both tangible and incorporeal… there must be a way… there must be a way to fix this yet. And even if I wanted to, even if I wanted to…”

He stands for a long, long time shivering over the sink.

In fact, most of you will have turned your attention away by the time he speaks again.

And even if you have not, he still speaks so quietly as to barely touch the ear - a whisper to make the kitchen a confessional - a secret -

“I don’t,” his bloodied tongue confesses. “Know how.”

Anonymous asked: Stand strong Blue. Defend your baby brother. Even if he does hurt you, at least that'll prick a hole in Trick's current false reality and bring him back to earth a bit.

“Right,” whispers Blue, curled low around Trick’s body. “Yes, I have to look after him. Yes, no matter what. Trick… amata. Fuck, I used to know your name… but it doesn’t matter, I love you.”

He cards his thumb across Trick’s cheeks, brushing tears away. “It’s okay, mo deartháir. Just hold onto me. Oh… well, let me get my oxygen.”

He grabs at his chest for a second, struggling softly, trying to pull in air. Eventually he manages to pull himself across the room and put his cannula back in his nose, taking a deep breath in.

“Blue,” cries Trick softly, clutching at his shirt.

“Trick,” answers Blue, wrapping back around him. “Trick, Trick. Sh, darling, okay. Here, look, your little paper, do you want it?”

He presses the blue crinkle paper into his brother’s palm and Trick wraps his fingers around it, hiding in Blue’s stomach.

“And your cat? Come here, kitty kitty, yes, there’s a good sweet boy.”

He scoops Noodle up and places him on Trick’s chest. He’s a sweet, intelligent cat, and immediately he is banging his little head up against Trick’s chin, mewling for attention. Trick palm closes around his growing golden body. Soft as duck down.

“What happened?” sobs Trick. “I was - I was happy and then so scared and I can’t remember why… Blue, someone’s going to hurt me, don’t let them hurt me! Blue, Blue!”

“No one’s going to hurt you,” swears Blue, pulling him close. They’re warm as space heaters against each other, curled up on the floor together. “It was - Trick, it was Anti, but I won’t let him - ”

“Oh, no,” breathes Trick, looking immediately dazed again, his eyes drooping. “He protects me, he loves me, he would never…”

Distantly, he touches his stinging cheek. Blue pulls the fingers away and leans down to kiss the mark, stroking his fingers through Trick’s hair as he cries soft against his chest.

“I was so happy,” says Trick. “Where did it go? What happened? I can’t remember… I must have really fucked up, Blue, I’m such a screw-up, I ruin everything…”

“I’m so sorry, amata,” whispers Blue. “Oh, no, Trick, not for a moment. You didn’t do anything wrong at all. You didn’t do a single thing wrong. You didn’t know Xin Yi would be in danger here. You didn’t mean to make Anti angry. You didn’t do anything. You’re so sweet to me, and to him too, even though he doesn’t deserve it.”

“Who’s Xin Yi?”

Blue winces, putting his forehead down against Trick’s. “I… I…”

“Is - Blue, is Anti going to make me h-hurt someone?”

“I - I don’t know, Trick. Not if I can help it. We won’t let it happen, okay? We won’t let it happen.”

“Please hold me…”

“Here I am.”

“Blue,” whispers Trick. “I love you more than air. But I want Dok so, so much. Why isn’t he here? Why won’t he come back to me? Doesn’t he want me anymore?”

“He’s just lost, Trick,” Blue answers. “He still loves you so much. Won’t it be nice to see him again after so long?”

“I’ll hug him,” says Trick simply, his breathing beginning to calm a little. “I’ll be able to sleep again, when Dok is… when Dok is…”

His gaze drifts. He’s only allowed to think about Dok for so long. His brain no longer holds on the thought of him for more than a minute, and so, several times a day he feels a great pang of grief, and then a numb confusion as it disappears again.

“Just let me hold on to you,” says Blue. “I got you.”

“You got me,” answers Trick, smiling weakly up at him. “You’re really good to me, Blue. Love you so much.”

“I love you, Trick.”

“Ekk,” says Noodle, licking Trick’s chin. Trick hugs him close and listens to his roar of a purr.

Blue finds Dok’s shirt amid Trick’s nest. He drapes it over them both. Faintly, Trick registers the smell of him. Blue’s fingers soothe his pain and his fear away, moving through his hair and across his back. Blue is holding him. Blue loves him. No matter what. Right now, it’s all that matters.

Anonymous asked: Trick please... You don't have to change yourself or act like someone you're not for the sake of making everyone happy. They love you for you. They love Trick and not... Whoever. Just... Blue please tell him? It would mean a lot more if it came from you. -🦀

Blue softens, staring at you for a second.

Fuck, but he’s glad to have someone on his side.

“You guys and Mr. Noodle here,” he murmurs, curling low over his brother, hugging him close.

“Hey,” he whispers. “I love you just the way you are.”

Trick stares up at him, his eyes wet and his mouth smiling sorrowfully.

“Blue,” he whispers, like a single-syllable song.

“Don’t want you to think you have to change for him,” chokes Blue, kissing his cheek again.

“Who’s him?”

He can’t bear to fight with him about Anti right now. Blue puts his face down against Trick’s shoulder.

It’s Trick’s turn to run his fingers across Blue’s scalp, soothing him even as he continues to cry. Their arms wrap around each other’s shoulders and ribs like a weary twilight Pieta. Blue gives his brother time. He needs it too. A half hour, an hour. Rocking him in his arms and listening to him snuffle and cry and try to figure out what happened, his confused mind making a mess of it and leaving him exhausted in Blue’s arms. Still, he has enough presence of mind to find the most important thing to say, when finally Blue feels his heart slow against his fingertips.

“I love you too,” swears Trick. “Just the way you are.”

“Anti made me the way I am,” says Blue. “And it’s not enough to protect you.”

“It’s always enough,” Trick says, with a reverence like a prayer. “Don’t you know you make me want to love myself?”

Warm hands and bodies pressed close together. The purring of a cat and the brotherhood shared in twin eyes.

Blue knocks their foreheads softly together.

“You and me?” he whispers, settling down against their nest.

“Yes,” says Trick. “No matter what happens. I have you, Blue.”

“Amata,” says Blue, trying to make up for the times Anti has said it with his lying mouth, trying to make up for all the times Anti corrupted this one truth that still remains. “Amata. Amata. Beloved. I love you.”

The sun has come down blue as the felt between the night sky and warm on their shoulders. Trick, Blue realizes, has fallen asleep in his arms.

--------------

Anonymous asked: Hey Henrik, you should ask the magicians for some candles that you can light on the shabbats! I think finally being allowed/able to practice your culture will really help you on your journey to healing. Remember dayenu, remember the blessings and songs. You're free, dok, you can have more than just Hanukkah now.

You find Henrik sitting in that dusty library basement, surrounded by the tall shelves of the books, flipping wearily through the pages of some stiff yellow tome. He’s surrounded by books, but, for once, all on his own. He no longer feels the need to be lead around or escorted. He knows he’s not a prisoner and, what’s more, he goes where he pleases.

“Ah,” he says, pushing his glasses up on his nose and giving you a small smile. “Well… that’s very nice. And I’d like to do some of that, maybe. I remember my songs and blessings even when I’m with Anti, but I don’t always use them anyhow.”

He sighs and fiddles with the pages of the book. “It is just not that easy as jumping back into it, yeah? Like… fuck, I don’t know. Anti’s not the only thing that’s been stopping me from my practices, I guess. My relationship with my faith is… well, it’s a lot of strings to untangle. I’d like to go back to having a real community, but even if I didn’t feel like I was going back to Anti soon, I’m still not sure I feel like I… I belong, you know, I’m just…”

He trails off, pulling his book closer and shaking his head.

There’s movement on the other side of the library and he blinks, looking around, but he settles back down to his reading.

“Trying to find more info on what Anti is,” he says, changing the subject. “But no real luck. I don’t think he’s anything anyone has ever seen before.”

cest-mellow asked: hey henrik, i’m glad they took you here. it’s very pretty. but, listen, there is a way you can potentially help blue and stop anti. this is gonna sound scary, but emmanuela wants to take a little look inside your head, just to see what antis done, nothing more. she’s very warm, she doesn’t want to cause you or your brothers any sort of harm. she really will help you, and blue, and red and dapper and trick, if you trust her with this. she won’t use any of this against you, it’s only to help.

“Oh, scheisse,” groans Henrik, putting a nail between his teeth. “JP mentioned something like that at dinner. I - oh, get this! They made me eat fucking lamb’s intestines and wouldn’t tell me what it was until I was done, haha. I wanted to be pissed but, okay, listen, lamb’s intestines? Kind of good. I ate… a lot of it, haha.”

He’s a healthier person than when he came here almost two weeks ago, his face flushed with health. He’s been exercising again - turns out he’s something of a runner, which is not something he would have guessed about himself - and he eats three meals a day, every day, and sleeps in every morning.

“Wait until I get them back with something really German, then we’ll see who’s laughing. Oh my gosh, I can still feel how chewy it was! And the kids are so funny, because they will just gobble it down, they just - ”

He pauses and clears his throat. “Sorry, we were talking about Emmanuela. Yes. Um.”

He lets out a deep breath, fidgeting with his book. “I think I trust her. I know the others do and that’s about enough for me. But someone in my head is - that sounds scary, I - I don’t know. I’ve been disillusioned about so many things for so long and I’m still waking up to them. I’m scared she’ll find that there are important things I believe in that are lies too. That maybe everything is a lie. She’ll find something like Trick doesn’t love me without Anti there or Dapper is as bad as Anti or Anti is really… is really…”

He shakes his head slowly, staring down at his books.

“Is really and truly irredeemable. I don’t know that I could bear it…”

There’s movement again, closer to him. He blinks, looking up, shrinking in on himself a little. The lights flicker off on one half of the library and he jolts, staring around him, shadowed half in darkness. Footsteps and he shivers.

“Hermann?” he calls. “Nina?”

No answer from the darkness.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Henrik, maybe you should be on your guard. Where did all the others go?

“I don’t know, just hanging around,” he says, getting to his feet. “I - I’m just being paranoid. Nobody can reach me here. Nothing’s going to hurt me.”

It’s become something of a mantra for him. He whispers it to himself after nightmares and triggers, hiding away on his own, holding his own arms around his shoulders.

“Maybe I’ll go. It’s getting late anyway. I’m just being paranoid. Nobody can reach me here. Nothing’s going to hurt me.”

“Funny,” answers a voice, and Henrik shudders, backing against the shelves, his breath picking up in his chest.

This voice has the thickest Spanish accent yet, almost too heavy for Henrik to understand. The shaking of the voice - the croaking, rasping, cold hiss of the trembling voice - does not make it any easier.

“Funny,” repeats the Old Man, somewhere close by. Somewhere between the shelves of the placid, dusted old library, half-dark. “Funny, funny. A joke, almost. My son, you know, he think the same thing before your brother kill him.”

A snake longer than Henrik’s entire body comes dripping down the bookshelf in front of him, golden eyes fixed directly on him.

hurricael asked: Hey magicians, do you know if someone giving back magic has ever been recorded? And if so, how? Like, magic that was taken and then given back to that person ((I'm a little timeline-muddled so if this doesn't fit here feel free to ignore it))

“Have you been looking for answers?” asks the Old Man, and Henrik whirls as his voice seems to move, almost like Anti’s does, and Henrik feels his heart constrict. “Have you been looking for salvación for your killer family? For all the different kind of murderer you love? For the one who kill Jose, and the one who kill Christofer when he go to help you, and the one who tortures Genesis?”

Fuck. Henrik closes his eyes tight against the memories. No! He won’t be intimidated by this man. He won’t be cowed. He’s Henrik, Dok, their brother.

“You don’t understand!” he cries. “You don’t understand anything about us.”

“Everybody like to say it’s complicated when bad things happen,” answers the Old Man. “You are here, you talk about religion down here? Talk about going back to being a good Jew? It’s complicated. Nobody understand. You tell yourself. But sometimes? You were just wrong. You were just evil. And not everybody deserves salvación.”

“No,” croaks Henrik. “You can’t just - ”

“If you had wanted answers,” says the Old Man. “I am the one who know every book in this library. Here’s your answer: no, your thieving, blood-thirsty brother can’t give the magic back, or at least that is not in any of the books, in any of the history. Same way your black and white brother can’t undo the scars on Genesis, and your red brother can’t bring my child back from the dead.”

Henrik leaps the snake and races back towards the stairs. His hands are growing wet with - oh, oh, what is this? When did he begin to bleed?

“Hey!” he screams, tumbling against a bookshelf. “What are you doing? Please stop! I’m sorry about your child but I didn’t - ah!”

Blood is running down his cheeks. Down his chest. Down his arms. He screams as cuts appear, painless but weeping, across his skin. Thick, heavy scars in some places, neat little patterns in others. The same scars Anti and Dapper gave Genesis. Henrik can feel the star shape on his cheek. Chain burns redden on his shaking wrists.

“The longer you stay here,” hisses the Old Man. “The more tired I am of excuses for everything your family is done to mine. You are not worth defending if monster comes back. You were not worth Jose and Christofer. You should not be here.”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: GENESIS! ANYONE! HENRIK IS IN DANGER!

Genesis gets the notification on her phone, turning you on to let you see her splayed out on her bed, eating crackers.

“What?” she says through a half-full mouth, and then the message kind of registers, and she’s scrambling to her feet, spilling crumbs everywhere. “What? Where is he? Anti can’t have gotten in here. Emmanuela!”

She races out of her room, tearing open the door to Henrik’s room, but he isn’t inside.

Anonymous asked: Genesis, the Old Man is attacking henrik, isn’t there any way for you guys to stop him??

“Motherfucker!” shouts Genesis, even louder than she called for Emmanuela, tearing down towards the stairs. “He would not! He did not! Emmanuela will eviscerate him!”

“Genesis? What’s going on?” calls one of the three children, poking their heads out of the dining room.

“Go get everyone for me, now! It’s an emergency. The Old Man’s lost it. I shouldn’t have left the medico alone!”

She’s charging down the stairs already. “Henrik!” she shouts. “It’s okay, I’m coming! It’s not real, medico!”

Henrik can’t hear her. He’s curled up in a ball, clutching at his head, your camera abandoned beside him.

“Do you remember me?” asks a voice you haven’t heard in weeks, and the heavy boots of the enormous magician who had tried to carry Trick back to the car to be with Henrik appear in your vision. Christofer leans down over Henrik and blood comes pulsing from his throat, a great dog’s-teeth wound tearing his neck into bloody shreds. “Do you remember I tried to help you?”

“Stop!” he screams. “Please, no!”

There’s another body behind him a moment later. You’ve never seen this magician before, but you know who he is. He holds the great black book that Anti stole and used to take Marvin’s magic. Red killed him.

“Is it easy?” says Jose. “To pretend all the people you hurt are just side characters, nameless, forgotten the moment you put a blade in them? How many people have you killed, medico? How many of their names do you remember now? All of them had people who loved them.”

“I never wanted to!” screams Henrik.

“But that isn’t quite true now, is it?” sneers Jose’s image, and Henrik can hear himself laughing wildly, crazed, can hear the horrible squealch of his scalpel impaling a body again and again, cackling and babbling in German, and Anti cooing in his ear:

“There’s my good Doktor. There’s my little torturer. Now, at last you can admit it - you never became a doctor to heal anybody. You always wanted to feel what it would be like to kill someone and hold their heart in your hands.”

Henrik sobs and wraps his arms around himself. “Trick!” he screams. “Trick, please!”

Anonymous asked: It’s an old man, talking about how red killed his child. They’re in the library and he’s freaking Henrik out!

Genesis bounds down the stairs and finds Henrik shaking at the bottom, curled into a ball, holding his head and babbling.

“I didn’t mean to. I didn’t want to. I wasn’t happy. I didn’t mean to. Let me go back to Trick. I did what you asked. Let me go back to Trick. I’ll be good. I’ll be good. I’ll be good!”

She falls to her knees beside him and cups his face in her hands, shushing him lowly, looking over him for injuries, but, while Henrik’s camera shows you rivulets of blood and bodies standing over him and the great long body of a constrictor snake creeping along the floor towards him, there is nothing in Genesis’s phone camera except Henrik himself, whole and unharmed, rocking on the floor.

“I’ll make him stop, I’ll make him stop, it’s just an illusion,” she reassures him, leaping back to her feet. “Viejo, paras! I’ll go get him, medico, stay here!”

Almost as soon as she’s rushing down the library shelves to find the Old Man, Hermann is crashing down the stairs to fall at Henrik’s side, taking his hands in his own, his eyes looking wildly around.

Anonymous asked: There's a reason we've done away with 'an-eye-for-an-eye' punishments. It's not as simple as your family hurt mine so I get to hurt yours back. We judge based on individual actions and we learn and grow and forgive if we choose to. I get that you're mourning your family's losses, but hurting Henrik won't take away your hurt. You're just putting more hurt into the world.

“They’re right, so cut it the fuck out!” screams Genesis, rounding the corner of the bookshelves, and there, at last, you see the Old Man.

His dry mouth is twisted into a terrible snarl.

The wrinkles around his eyes are soaked in tears.

He cries in silence, glaring at nothing, his eyes glowing faintly gold from the magic he’s using on Henrik.

“Viejo,” calls Genesis, her eyes softening, though her mouth is still taut with anger for her friend. “Stop. Stop. Jose wouldn’t have wanted this.”

“It does not matter,” he mumbles in Spanish, tears splashing onto the floor. “He is not here and never will be again.”

Anonymous asked: Question old man: who the hell are you HELPING by doing this? You passed-on family is gone, and the ones who are still here are trying to help this guy sure himself out and stop a demon so he can't hurt anyone else. You're directly impeding progress on that front. You're certainly not helping yourself by debasing any trust your living family has in you.

“You can kick me out after this if you please,” he tells Genesis, slumping back in his chair, his hand limp on the table before him. “It doesn’t matter now.”

She comes to stand beside him, her eyes flickering. After a moment, she puts her hand down on his shoulder.

He reaches up and traces the scars that Anti left her, his eyes clouded with both age and misery.

“Stop,” she says. “Please, I’m asking you. Jose was not the only one who loves you. I’m ashamed of you now. Stop, for my sake. For Jose’s memory.”

He scoffs and shakes his head, but at her request, the glow in his eyes fades away.

Henrik chokes and slackens across the floor as the hallucinations fade away, still shuddering. Hermann is murmuring reassurances to him, trying to get him back to his feet. It’s best to get him out of the library before anything else happens.

Genesis and the Old Man are still together in the darkness. He stares down at the wood of the table and closes his weeping eyes.

bupine asked: old man, these men have been through so much pain. i understand you have too. but wishing more pain on them does nothing. it doesn't help you feel better, i'm sure, and it won't reverse any scars or bring any person back from the dead. i am so sorry about your son. anti has done a lot of terrible things, and his brothers have too, as a result. but they're hypnotized, they have no choice. save your rage for someone who truly deserves it.

“The medico is a good man,” whispers Genesis, leaning down to touch his hand. “You would know that if you had given him a chance.”

The Old Man shakes his head slowly, slowly.

“I mean it. He’s like me, viejo. He’s like Jose was too. How many of us have come here because people hurt us and set us down paths we never meant to go down? This is supposed to be a place to have some peace. To find yourself. Why would you do that to him? He was hypnotized. He was lost.”

The Old Man just shakes his head. Eyes still closed. “No. Hypnosis only goes so far. Maybe the demon killed Christofer. But Jose was killed by one of the servants. And he should have fought. He should have fought it. I don’t care how hard it would have been. He gave himself up to the demon and Jose died for it. If that red man ever comes near this place, I’ll show him what it feels like to watch the people you love most die around you. I’ll shatter his mind til he’s in pieces and you can call it an act of mercy, then, because the demon won’t use his hands for murder after that.”

“Stop,” snarls Genesis, shaking her head. “You stop. Don’t you dare threaten any one of them. I’m ashamed of you. I’m ashamed.”

Anonymous asked: Why did you do that? Did you hope to gain something from torturing him?

“He plans to go back to the monster,” says the Old Man. “He still loves his brothers. Maybe he should have a chance to see them for what they really are. Maybe he should see himself for what he really is. Not one monster. Six.”

Genesis draws away from him, mouth pursed. She doesn’t know what to do. She’ll leave it to Emmanuela to decide what to do with him. Her hand falls away from his shoulder.

Anonymous asked: Sir, I’m sorry that you lost your child and I can’t begin to understand how that might feel, but taking it out on Henrik will not bring him back. Henrik was brainwashed and manipulated to do what he was told by the demon he was with, and he didn’t even kill him. Your child’s blood is on the demon’s hands, not his.

Genesis draws away from him. Doesn’t have the energy or time to comfort him while Henrik’s in pain and it’s his fault. She moves back towards the stairs, leaving the Old Man behind in the darkness.

“Wasn’t the demon’s hands either,” you hear the Old Man whisper, quiet as Genesis moves away from him. “I was the one who sent him to fetch the book. My son…”

If you were seated back at the table with him for a moment, you might have seen one more illusion, one more of his magic tricks - a young man sitting there beside him, healthy and strong and beautiful, smiling at him and reaching out to hold his hand. But no matter how long the image sits so lovingly beside him, the warmth of his fingers and the touch of his skin would never come down on their father’s palm again.

Anonymous asked: You underestimate the demon’s power. They did fight, and they’re still fighting, every single minute of every single day. Some days are harder than others, scarier than other, and sometimes they have to do things that aren’t too pretty to survive. They have known nothing else but survival and their abuser. I respect the place that your opinion comes from, but it is also one of misguided anger and it is beyond wrong to trigger a victim because you are hurt. It is not your place to pass judgement.

“Come on,” murmurs Genesis, carrying you up the stairs. “Let’s not waste any more time with him. If he doesn’t see that now, words won’t make him see it. He’s in a great deal of pain. Fuck, I knew he had objected to letting the medico wander free, but I never thought…”

She shakes her head, hustling up the stairs, where she finds a panicked JP waiting for the elevator.

“Genesis! What’s going on?”

“Old Man gave Henrik Nightmares. Maybe you shouldn’t bother him right now, JP.”

“He did not.”

“He did. Come on, I can hear him crying out. I need to check he’s okay.”

JP grabs his wheels and hurries after her.

“Where’s Nina?”

“Lying down. Baby’s really hurting her.”

“Damn baby,” mumbles Genesis, and despite the situation JP snorts out a laugh, running his hands through his hair. “Hermann? Where are you?”

“We’re in Emmanuela’s office,” Hermann calls back.

Henrik grabbed you at some point and you’re clutched tight in his shaking hands, listening to him wheezing and choking out terrified German. Hermann is kneeling close beside him and Emmanuela is sitting on his left, her eyes faintly gold, trying to pull him out of the last of the illusions.

“I didn’t mean to! I didn’t mean to! Red didn’t mean to, he didn’t want to hurt them, he didn’t want to hurt us, he just - he- I didn’t!”

“Hey, you’re safe,” Hermann whispers, squeezing his hands. “You’re safe, you’re safe.”

“I want Trick! Trick! Please, where is he?”

“I don’t know, amigo, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

spicydanhowell asked: if you wanna comfort henrik, try rubbing his back or his head. his twin used to do that a lot

“Can I touch you?” asks Hermann.

Henrik is already gripping at his hands, disoriented and lost and afraid. “Trick?” he sobs.

“It’s Hermann, medico. It’s okay.”

“I want my brother,” he chokes. “I want - I want Anti.”

There’s a slight shift in all the magicians around him, glances exchanged and mouths twisted. Emmanuela gets to her feet and begins ushering people out of the room. “Give him some space.” The children race off, followed by a more reluctant JP and Genesis. Emmanuela sits down at her desk to give him room, and Hermann shifts closer to Henrik. He reaches up to touch the back of his head and, when Henrik only falters into it, he strokes gently at his hair, still clutching his free hand.

“I’m sorry he did that to you,” says Hermann. “I meant to protect you. I’m sorry.”

“No, he was right,” sobs Henrik, clutching at his face. “I’m a murderer and a sadist, I always have been, I love the sight of blood, just a freak… my brothers have all killed people, except maybe Blue, and we do it all just because Anti tells us to, and do you know what the worst part is?”

“Medico, Henrik, sh, sh…”

“I still love him,” cries Henrik, feeling something snapping inside his chest. “I still love him! He is my brother! I know he is a monster and I still want him! The Old Man was right. I’m just a monster too, wanting to be with him, wanting to be his.”

He crumples across Hermann’s shoulders, tumbling against his chest, and Hermann just reaches out to hold him, stroking slowly at his hair.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Hen.... it's okay. Yes you might have done wrong in the past, but that does NOT make you a monster. You will wee Trick soon, okay?

“I need to go back to him,” Henrik is sobbing, gripping at Hermann’s shoulders. “No, I mean it! I’ve been thinking it this whole time, I - I can’t - I’m not ready to leave Anti, or at least not leave Trick and my brothers with him.”

“Medico,” says Emmanuela.

“No, I mean it,” he repeats. “I meant to tell you - you, mostly - ” He casts you a red-eyed glance, hiccuping. “I plan to go back to Anti. I do. I’m not - I’d like to stay. I would. But I can’t leave Trick and Blue behind, or the others. I have to be there to look after them. That’s my job. I’m planning to go back to Anti. I am. You shouldn’t try to stop me.”

Emmanuela sits back in her chair, sighing. Hermann gives her a desperate glance, but she’s turned away from him.

“You can’t do that,” whispers Hermann, gripping Henrik’s head tighter. “You have to stay safe.”

“I know there’s nothing selfish about staying away from someone who’s treated you poorly. But I still… I still need to be with Anti. I feel his presence clawing at me. He’s so deep inside my head. And what’s more, I want to be with him. I can’t just give up on him, or on the others. They must be suffering so much. I have to look after Blue and protect Trick as he comes down from what Anti’s putting him through. Besides, I’ll only bring Anti here if I continue to hide. It was never feasible, me staying here. I need to go back to Anti. I want to go back to Anti. I want to go back to Trick.”

“This is horrible,” says Hermann, shaking his head. “No.”

“He’ll make his own choice,” says Emmanuela softly.

It would not be the first time she’s let people go, no matter how unwise it seemed.

“He’s an adult and a free man. He’ll make his own choice. But first he must let me make sure he sees as clearly as he can.”

She turns and levels her gaze at Henrik. He swallows shakily and stares back.

Anonymous asked: Henrik, no, it's okay. You're okay. He had such a powerful hold, it's completely understandable to still be affected by it. He changed you, and you're doing a wonderful job recovering. And remember, Henrik, he messed with your head, and if the core that's you got shaken up by it, that's okay, he meant it to do that. You're okay, buddy.

“How much of who I am is him messing with my head?” whispers Henrik, burying his face in his hands. “How much of who I am is really me and how much is him? How much of him is really a monster and how much was real in the times when he made me think he loved me? How much of any of us is real? Are we just puppets? Was the person I was anything like this at all?”

Hermann looks helplessly over at Emmanuela, who, at this point, is mostly looking sad for him. Henrik hides from her pity and pretends the warmth against him is Trick’s.

“Can I see?” she asks.

“Inside my head?”

“Yes.”

“Could you if I said no?”

“Yes, but I wouldn’t.”

Henrik stares down at the floor, exhausted, his heart still pounding so hard it hurts. He chokes on a sob and tears come drizzling down his face. What a mess he is. What a mess he’s always been, long as he can remember.

“Can you help me get my memories back?” he asks in a croak.

“Maybe,” she says. “It depends on the way the monster took them.”

He looks up at her, startled.

“What, really?”

“No clue til I try.”

Hermann is rubbing soothingly at his knee. Henrik glances over at him, meeting the calm trust in his eyes. Henrik looks up at you, nervous.

“Okay,” he says softly, clutching you to his chest. “But if you try anything, they’ll tell me!”

Emmanuela chuckles, soft and low.

Hermann leaves them alone in the room. Henrik feels awkward staring up at her, and a little afraid.

“What is this going to answer for me?” he asks in a croak.

“Well,” says Emmanuela. “How much of his control was ever voluntary for you. How he got in your head, which might, in turn let us know how to get him out. How real some of the things you’ve believed are. What happened to your memories - locked away in your brain or just destroyed.”

Henrik laughs and tugs on his hair, shaking his head slowly. “Well, fuck,” he says. “That might be too many answers.”

“Just take it easy,” she says. “Close your eyes.”

“I feel very stupid,” he admits.

She laughs without mocking him. He closes his eyes.

Here are some things that are true.

Henrik von Schneeplestein did not for a moment choose Anti. He did not agree. He was not convinced. Even more so than Blue, he was shoved down this rabbit hole; he was broken in half and then rebuilt. The remnant of that time makes old scars tingle along his body, burns and cuts and bones ever-so-slightly out of place. Anti told him he didn’t know how he got them. Probably from the old master, he said. Probably from that old and painful life. Briefly, Henrik feels the ghost of a memory, staring across at Trick before he was Trick, the two of them whispering encouragement as the days went by, until at last Henrik shattered, and Trick fell down with him.

Here are some things that are true.

Anti falsified all of it in the beginning. The feeling of fondness towards him. The feeling of safety. The lie of the danger outside. There was no one coming for them, except old friends who missed them, or at least what few of their old friends who remained alive. Henrik had people he loved and he forgot them. Henrik loved Jameson and Jackie and Marvin and he forgot that too. Things changed as time went on. Dok loved Anti. Dok loves Anti.

Anti has, at moments - at small, fleeting moments, loved him too. Earnestly and truly. There is a bullet scar in Dok’s side that will never go away, but the only reason he survived it at all was because of the great black dog that guarded him from their enemies. The great black dog that took bullet after bullet for him, and saw a dozen possible futures at Dapper’s hands, and chose the one where Doktor did not die. There were moments where he would look over at him and think, at least, ‘he is something worth loving.’

Selfish love, sometimes, but at moments, present.

For the most part, however, Anti has not loved him, not slightly, not well, not enough, and that was a choice he made. Killing Henrik was an act of revenge, and from there, Dok has been tortured again and again by the hatred of the monster he came to call his brother, and it isn’t fair, and it wasn’t loving, and the brotherhood between them is, if real, a terrible, terrible curse to him, and he doesn’t deserve it.

Here are some things that are true.

Anti is jealous and Henrik’s memories are gone, permanently. Not locked away. Not hidden. Destroyed. Powerful magic. Powerful theft. Henrik will never remember that old life. Only glimpses of it, ghosts of it. Emmanuela searches and Henrik sees distant things - a house in the middle of the forest. The disappearance of a little brother. The flight from home. His brothers around him. Chase. But these are empty gaps where memories once were, not things recalled.

Here is one thing that is true.

“He’s entangled himself completely in your family,” says Emmanuela. “In your mind.”

Dok loves Anti. Henrik loves Anti. He does, he does. Despite everything. Despite the false foundation.

“He made it seem real,” she says. “Because the family between the rest of you was real. As time went on, you lost the ability to distinguish between the intruder and the reality. And he just became another brother. Flawed, maybe, but so were all of you. A bad temper, you said. You couldn’t see that he wasn’t real. Because if he wasn’t, than what does that make the rest of it? False as well? You knew it like this: ‘I love Trick and Trick loves me, truly and fully. Anti gave Trick to me. Anti must love us too, truly and fully, or wouldn’t that mean Trick didn’t love me too?’“

Henrik tries to breathe, burying his face in his hands. He did not feel her in his head, but he felt the remnants of so many things he’s forgotten or tried to forget. Grief and anger and hurt and pain and happy things, too, but less of them, not as many as there should have been.

“He is a talented manipulator,” she says. “More powerful and skilled than anyone I’ve ever come into contact with. I don’t know - Henrik, I’m sorry - I don’t know how you’ll convince yourself fully that he really is as bad as all that. No matter what I show you, no matter how much time you have, he will still be buried in there by virtue of his power. This web - I don’t know how to break it. You love your brothers and your brothers love you. Anti is caught up in the middle of that, hiding in the subconscious, unable to be ratted out without ratting the real love out too. It’s not fair. I’m sorry.”

“Maybe you’re just wrong about him,” Henrik sobs. “You have to be, if he seems so real!”

“Henrik… this is what I mean. No matter how much you cling to him, you know, logically, what’s real. You saw him hurt your magician that night. He could have killed him. You’ve seen him lock your little brother away in his room for months on end. You’ve seen him twist the others into things they never wanted to be. You’ve been hurt by him yourself, medico. You know. You know.”

“But I still love him,” says Henrik.

“Yes,” says Emmanuela, very soft. “That’s a normal part of abuse, but… I don’t think that this will go away normally.”

“Okay, okay, okay,” says Henrik.

He tries to breathe. He’s got this. He’s fine. He’s a motherfucking certified genius, he can figure this shit out.

“Here are my options,” he says. “One - I run away and I stay gone and not only does Anti hunt me for the rest of my life, but I’ll always feel attached to him as long as I’m attached to the others, who, as far as I will know, will continue to be tortured by Anti.”

Emmanuela just watches him. She will let him make his own choices.

“Or, two - I find a way to disentangle Anti from my family. Not just my image of my family, but the whole of my family. Realizing, logically, that he is a horrible son of a bitch has so far proved useless. I still know that I love the others, and they love Anti, or at least some of them do, and as long as that’s true, he’ll always be buried in there somewhere. I can’t escape him alone. None of us can. So to get away from him, I’d have to - ”

He stops short, staring at the wall.

Looking up at last.

“We’re… all going to have to turn on him together,” he says. “Aren’t we?”

Emmanuela looks at him. She has endless eyes. Her dark hair gleams.

“Yes,” she says. “I think so.”

He sits back on his chair. Staring at that wall. Stained glass windows at the side of it. Letting in the light, but letting it in blood red.

“Impossible,” he says. “Impossible.”

“No,” she says, reaching out to touch his hand. “It isn’t. It’s just a fight, Henrik. And you’re going to have to fight it. With them. Not alone anymore. With your brothers. Stop watching each other get hurt and stand together. Find your family again. The real one. You don’t have to surrender.”

Blood red streaks across him. Light and color and the blank face of the wall. The closed door waiting to be opened.

“I need to see Anti again,” he says, very soft.

“To fight?” she asks. “Or to give up?”

He doesn’t answer.

She leans back in her desk, her eyes faintly gold.

“I’ll make preparations for if you choose to leave,” she says. “I’ll give you weapons. Protection. Anything I can. It’s your choice, Henrik.”

He walks back to his room alone, and sits on the bed, and stares at the wall.

Here is a truth, a great truth, greater than anything else that he knows, great enough, he thinks, perhaps, to fight for:

He wants to be free, and bring his family with him.

But it will not be easy.

------------------

aether-mae asked: Hen, when Anti comes, I want you to keep this time in mind. Keep in mind how you are safe and happy with the magicians, and remind yourself you are bringing this contentment to trick. Bring trick away from Anti so he can enjoy this with you.

You can find him in the sunlight.

They’re playing a partnered card game that involves slapping your hand down on the cards faster than everyone else, coming up with secret signals to communicate, and a lot of wild giggling, especially from JP and Nina, losing it on his right side. He’s sitting down against the wall with one arm around her shoulders and one arm around her rounded belly and their black hair is glowing in the light. Henrik tugs you closer to him at the beeping, but he’s distracted by the chattering of Genesis and Hermann and Basilio, who is eagerly perched in Henrik’s lap, trying to slap the cards every single time a new one falls.

“You have to wait for a sandwich of cards,” laughs Henrik, dragging his little hand back again. “Like, maybe an eight and then something else and then another eight. A sandwich.”

“Que?”

“You have to - haha, you’ll learn, you’ll figure it out.”

Basilio slaps the cards again and Henrik breaks down into laughter.

Loud laughter. Loud, deep from the bottom of his chest. His head falls back and his eyes squint up and his shoulders shake with it.

And he catches your message out of the corner of his eye, and pauses to read it, and fuck, fuck.

He has to fight, doesn’t he?

He has to fight for Trick to have this.

If he’s going back -

The sun is golden on him. His skin fits him right. There is a child laughing on his lap and friends around him.

If he’s going back, he’s going back to fight.

He has to bring this joy back to his brothers.

He strokes Basilio’s dark hair and -

“Sandwich!”

- slaps the cards.

“Henrik,” groans a chorus of accented voices at him as he collects the cards he’s won, and he’s laughing again, and he’s warm, and Hermann’s hand comes down on his own just for a moment as if to say, ‘yes, brother, here we are.’

Anonymous asked: I don't think you need to figure out exactly who you were under his control, because I think the lines were blurred enough that we might never quite know. People do things they wouldn't usually to survive, and to protect themselves, and I do not think you can be faulted for things he made you do. And as you begin to come back, we can begin to figure out who you are now.

They devolve into sitting around and kicking a football around eventually, Henrik sitting on the sidelines and drinking beer with JP as Genesis and Hermann play monkey in the middle with Basilio.

“It’s kind of frightening,” he tells you, though he says it calmly. “Knowing that I have to find myself again. Knowing that I will never be that same person I was. But I think I want it. I think that’s something I want to stand up for. For my chance to be Henrik, and not just here, sheltered away from him. For my chance to be Henrik again in all things.”

“That’s the good part about it,” says Nina, turning to smile at him. “You go through so much you don’t know how to get back that person that you used to be, but then… then you get to choose the person you become. And that person becomes someone who is a survivor despite everything. A fighter despite everything. You choose strength and it shapes you.”

She smiles softly at the brick beneath her feet, turning her head to gaze at her husband, stroking her hand along her belly.

“Every day,” she says, touching Henrik’s shoulder. “We’re choosing. It’s okay to make new choices. Okay to be a different person. Every day a new person. I think that’s what’s really beautiful about being a person at all.”

aether-mae asked: Henrik! My lovely fellow. Red and Dap are on their way to you, without Anti and with no intention to return to Anti (as of yet). Is there any way you know of that could bring you to them faster or would you like to wait for them?

“What’s this? Red?”

“Hermann!”

Emmanuela’s coming up the stairs, beckoning for him. He hurries over to her and they exchange a few soft words. She presses something into his hands and leaves again.

Hermann stares down at it for a second. Holds it in his hands.

“Henrik,” he calls, trying to steady his voice, turning back towards him with a smile, holding a phone. “It’s for you.”

“It’s what?” Henrik gets onto his feet. Hermann just holds the phone out to him.

Henrik puts it to his ear.

Soft breathing, shy and nervous. Soft mumbling in the background. Soft shuffling and a deep breath.

“Dok?”

Henrik’s heart is a bird uncaged.

“Red! Oh, oh, I - I - is it you, is it? Bruder, is est du? How, how, Red, Red, I - ”

Red is stammering and babbling and stumbling just as much as he is on the other end of the line, his voice hoarse and shaking.

“We used the cameras, Max sent his phone number to them - I didn’t think it would work, thought it was a trick, fuck, Dok, is it you?”

“It’s me, it’s me! Red! I didn’t know if you were alright, I didn’t know if you were in prison… tell me something only you would know!”

“I - I, um. For Christmas this year, Trick got you coffee.”

Henrik bursts into laughter without knowing why, gripping his hair. “Red, Red!”

“Dap’s here too - he says your favorite book is the Bridge of San Luis Rey by Thornton Wilder and he loves you and he says you better believe it’s him, he loves you, he loves you - ”

“Oh, my little brother, is he well? Put him on the phone, I need to - no, wait - ”

It’s Red’s turn to laugh, and then they’re just having a breakdown together two countries away, listening to each other’s voices, chattering everything that comes to mind, and Henrik can hear Dapper clicking and striking his hands together at Red’s side.

“Dok, we want to come get you.”

“You want to come get me?”

“Yes. Yeah. We’ve got a car. We’re headed your way. Dok, I have to see you again. I can’t take all of us being separated anymore. I don’t know how we would have survived without the help we found.”

“Well, that I understand,” chokes out Henrik, gripping that phone like it’s keeping his head above water. “Red, yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes,” he says. “Yes. Come get me. I need to see you. My brothers. I love you.”

He didn’t mean to make Red’s voice shake even harder. He thinks he hears tears in his eyes. His strong older brother crying just for him.

“Where can I find you, Deutsch?”

“The market,” Henrik answers immediately. “Where we bought coffee and polar bear shirts and dog tags and rings. Red. Bruder, hermano, my friend. Come get me.”

--------------

Anonymous asked: Hold on just a while longer Blue- No, not blue, Marvin. Hold on just a little while longer. The missing brothers are free. I don't think anything anti does could convince them to come back to him at this point. Anti has enemies that will take him down in this weak state. Almost there you strong, wonderful magician. Protect Chase, protect yourself, I can't make promises but I feel the end to your pain is on the horizon. Do not go gentle. Rage against the dying of the light.

Do not go gentle. Rage against the dying of the light.

He sleeps every night now with his arms wrapped tight around Trickshot. They tangle up in blankets and brothers’ shirts and the tube for his oxygen.

The end of your pain is on the horizon.

He curls his body around Trick’s. As if he can protect him. At the least, he has to try. His fingers stroke the hair at the nape of his neck. Trick squirms closer to him in his sleep, mumbling and throwing his arms around him, entangling their legs. Noodle readjusts to sit nearly on his face.

They would not begrudge you the quick look in on them as they slept. You are, after all, a beacon of safety - for Trick, a sign that Anti watches over him; for Blue, a steady ally against everything that hurts him. A friend.

It is late, though. How long will you watch him? How many of you are looking on? Everything is still. Have you often peered at the silence of them? At the little moments, where nothing exists but the hand of their brother clasped in their own? Loyal watcher. You see things they do not always see. It is late, though. Will you go to sleep? Who taught you to watch so vigilantly? You remember the things the rest of the world has forgotten - glitches and Silent Nights and white string and comas. You remember things that never happened, because Jameson undid them.

The watchful few. The handful of you. It is late, though. Will you sleep?

Movement in their window.

A shadow, at first. Pausing. Casting a low shade of darkness over what little light comes in through their window.

The shadow shifts.

Closer.

And then there is a silhouette in their window. The silhouette of a person.

They do not know you’re there. They do not know you see.

They come close to the window. Cast that black and impenetrable shadow down over Trick and Blue, asleep on their mattress. The perfect outline of a person looking down at them. For a moment, they only stare down at them. Unmoving. Cold.

They move away again. You think they wear a cape. No. You think they have the wings of a bird. In the moonlight, a flicker of gold.

Trick and Blue sleep. Tangled up in blankets and brothers’ shirts and the tube for his oxygen.

Loyal watcher. It is late, though.

How long will you watch?

How long will the shadow?

End Section Nine of Chapter Three: The Separated Twins

#chapter three #writers of jack

[danwhobrowses]

10 Things that would’ve Improved the Game of Thrones Final Season (For Me)

So it came to my attention that recently it was the First Anniversary of the Final Episode of HBO’s ‘Game of Thrones’. I was taken back to my memory of the BinGOT thing we had at work where we all made predictions of who lived, died and ‘won’ from the last ep (I was in 2nd or 3rd place). And since my mother has started binging it during quarantine I thought in the spirit of that environment I’d discuss a little what I would’ve changed in the final season.

Spoilers for Game of Thrones Season 8 Below, if you haven’t watched it then you’re better off not reading this frankly, if you haven’t been spoiled already at least.

So for starters, the final episode is not the worst tv I’ve ever seen, it just was a sloppy final season in general that really didn’t satisfy the 2 years of hype waiting for it, it’s like with the How I Met Your Mother finale, but that annoyance being more than one episode. But without further ado here are 10 things I would’ve changed about the final season Note: Most will involve the finale. The first 2 episodes were great.

10 - Ten Episodes The Long Night was 1 episode, the LONG NIGHT. A Culmination of the army of living and dead confined into one episode. One of the main problems with the final season was that the pacing was a bit rushed, it made character progression seem unnatural and dropped long-built plot points like water through a sieve. With 10 episodes, which was not a big ask given that this was the usual number and the gravitas of it being the final season would easily allow it to be green lit. D&D immediately backed themselves into a corner by giving a limit they weren’t used to and too much content to put in.

9 - Bite of the Spider Varys’ death was an upsetting start of the penultimate episode, while I would’ve loved him to have survived start to end and potentially ended on top (because he’s never shown to be as cunning or dangerous as he is in the books) there was some sense in him dying. However, Varys was shown sending a letter before his arrest and that never came back up, the finale could’ve used this by revealing to the public Jon’s true heritage, which would’ve immediately undermined Dany’s claim and set up a better conflict. Also we never knew what the voice in the flames said to him...

8 - A More Fitting Long Night While everyone probably popped hard for Arya killing the Night King, myself included, the nature of it was rather abrupt. I don’t think anyone can buy that she sneaked past that entire army. I do feel like the Night King was just a MacGuffin for the Long Night, given that he did so little in the actual fight. This is where a multi-part Long Night would’ve been key as well, going from the Night King being immune to Dragonfire to dying a bit later was not a good pace, and we lacked any conflict with Jon like we teased twice, Arya probably wasn’t the most poetic person to kill him either but GoT seldom did poetic deaths (Joffrey, Cersei, Euron). While the Long Night had exemplary deaths like Theon, Lyanna, Jorah and Beric, the Night King fell among the ranks of Melisandre and Edd in terms of meh deaths. The Long Night should’ve been a bigger bloodbath than it was, half the Dothraki somehow survived remember, we didn’t get to see Ghost fight at all either, no giant spiders, a lot of the tension was lost with the way some fight scenes were filmed; it was too easy to read between the lines and not enough characters had any true ‘oh god this person could die’ scenes.

7 - Resolution for the Characters we didn’t See and Plots unresolved With so much funding and finality in the show, there felt like there could’ve been more stuff that could’ve been resolved; what was the Quaith’s prophecy about? What really happened with the Doom of Valyria? Why does Dragonglass and Valyrian steel kill White Walkers? What is Daario doing after Dany died? Were the Faceless Men really that okay with letting Arya wander around knowing their skillset? Nobody hired them to help in the war either. What happened to the remnants of that warlock dude who stole the baby dragons, they sent one scorpion and that’s it, what happens with the Little Birds now that they’re leaderless? Who was Azor Ahai? What were the spirals about? There are a lot of questions the show kinda just, ignored. 

6 - The Mad Queen So, Dany going from ‘I’ll stop if they surrender’ to ‘Burn them fucking all’ was abrupt for many, the majority of fans were not ready or willing to accept turning on their Kaleesi in just one episode. While I could see the conclusion coming from being jumped, losing another ‘child’ and her closest friend as well as her new boyfriend being her nephew and a legitimate threat to her legitimacy despite already pledging fealty, Dany’s descent could’ve used more time, and less naivety.  While the death of the dragon was a huge shock, the idiocy fell on Dany in thinking that Cersei would play fair and wouldn’t try to occupy Dragonstone while she abandoned it. There also fell inconsistency when the same fleet and rows of Scorpion crossbows suddenly got Stormtrooper aim during ‘The Bells’. Euron is a renowned sailor, he ruined a Dornish fleet in a previous season, he may be an annoying bastard but you have to treat his naval tactics with a bit more respect - and make Dany less stupid with Cersei doing Cersei things. A lot of people definitely needed more time in buying the idea that Dany had lost her cool and that she blamed all of Westeros to justify burning everyone unashamedly.

5 - Proper Redemption We all know who we’re talking about. Jaime, Jaime, Jaime. In the end he just proved Olenna’s point didn’t he? And his turn away from redemption was only to serve as an example point for Tyrion to use to convince Jon to kill Dany. Jaime didn’t have to live, but he didn’t have to die rushing to Cersei’s rescue, or even due to Euron stabbing him. If anything Jaime should’ve died with some Honour, to be the inverse of Ned as he was presented in Season 1.

4 - My Lady does not have to mean M’Lady This is probably the most selfish ones of my 10 but as a shipper at my very heart and soul I wanted one, at least one, ship to survive this entire turmoil and Gendry and Arya were that couple. We almost had it as well, but then for some mad reason D&D decided that Gendry, despite literally saying that “none of it will be worthwhile if you’re not with me”, stayed in Storm’s End. Arya’s character endgame was right in her venturing off not being bound by the fact that she’s a noble, but Gendry spent a lot of time not caring that he was of Kingsblood to basically being his Father’s son. He’ll rule Storm’s End, marry some woman to have kids, but he’ll still have fallen into the same pit as King Robert did. It would’ve been much more satisfying and hopeful if Gendry abandoned the titles and land he never wanted or needed to accompany someone he loves and who loves him back on an adventure into the unknown. She’s not a ‘lady’ if she’s only marrying a blacksmith and love is the death of duty.

3 - Sansa is NOT Smart (and gets what she actually deserves) Right. So I really, really didn’t like Sansa. Like, I get it, she got held hostage by the Lannisters, watched her father get beheaded, got accused of murder, learned that her brother and mother died, watched the guy who fancied her mother and kissed her kill her aunt and then got effectively sold to an abuser in an arranged marriage. But Sansa is not the smartest player in the game, it was annoying that they tried to portray her as one, she had one idea that anyone could’ve told you ‘don’t be stupid against Ramsay Bolton’. She spent all of Season 8 mainly giving side eye like a petty bitch, completely trying to undermine Dany despite the two being very very similar (remember Dany was raped, sold off in an arranged marriage and watched family members get killed too) to the point where she was conspiring for Jon to usurp her. And in reality she took her ball and left, she was so pissy that the leaders didn’t pick her to be Queen of Westeros that she literally pointed out her own brother’s infertility, claimed that the North wouldn’t bow to a monarch, then declared herself Queen.  Hide the ‘Yas Queen’ goggles for a sec, this wasn’t empowering she was throwing her own brother under the bus because she wanted to be queen, and she learned far too much from Littlefinger and Cersei’s playbook to actually be a just one. The North is allowed to be an independent nation, but Sansa’s ‘victory’ was more earned by virtue of a lot of shit happened to her than her actually demonstrating qualities to be queen.

2 - Bran Stark can’t come to the Phone right now... While we’re on the subject of Stark children not being fit rulers, Bran. What a cockamamie decision that was. I was 100% behind the destruction of the Iron Throne, but the chorus of laughter with a democratic rule was a bit of a slap in the face. Of all the choices though, Bran had to be near the bottom, it felt completely unearned that he spent literal seasons disconnecting from the world even to the point where he told Meera and Sam that Bran Stark is no longer here anymore only for Bran Stark to magically resurface when a crown is in waiting. I think it defeats the whole Three Eyed Raven thing too, the guy isn’t really one for the people, which is the problem every other ruler before him failed at. If you can’t pick a just person to lead, then why not a council instead? Just using Bran was a poor and messy decision.

1 - THE MOTHERFUCKING VALONQUAR One of the few expectations across all of Game of Thrones was the wondering over whether Cersei was gonna get what’s coming to her, the Maggy the Frog prophecy was going along quite well up until the Valonquar bit, where the younger sibling that was going to choke the life out of her was: bricks. BRICKS! Of all the long-winded prophecy foreshadowings to drop this one was the worst, Cersei (and Jaime) died in underwhelming, thoughtless fashion, the lack of fanfare on killing off one of the best and most ‘love to hate’ villains in the show only cemented the fact that the finale was not able to live up to the hype. True, most of these are small changes, but it’s worth remembering that there was some good coming out of the final season and it was the lack of those little things and attention to detail that led to the season ending on an underwhelming note.

We did however get a good ton of memes out of it, and at work a long-winded discussion on who should get the ‘winner’ 5-points (compared to the 1 correct points) since we had technically agreed that the 5 points goes to “whoever correctly guesses who sits on the Iron Throne” XD I still can’t believe I was right in Drogon melting the throne though that was one in a million

#game of thrones #got #got season finale #got season 8 #cersei #jaime lannister #lannister #stark #arya stark #sansa stark #bran stark #jon snow #daenerys targaryen #varys #westeros #the long night #night king #white walkers #valonquar #gendry

[ts-2020-olympics]

EPISODE 3 - “Am I Old?” - Sarah

So far Shosha and Yujo haven’t lost any challenges, if we keep winning until the swap  i fear that the other tribes will target our people because we’re all still intact. Maybe it would be a good thing to maybe lose one? I dunno

ちくしょう 😉

FUCK the hosts for this how many hours can you put in challenge this early in the game, i'm literally fucking pissed, FUMIN love! i knew we were gonna lose from early on but i still put in the time and hours to distract myself from this bitch ass boy who curved me yesterday night, whatever. i'm just so exhausted like of the constant losing, the tribal council, ugh. i haven't been on a losing tribe like this in SO long. and i'm so.. over it. i can't stand losing and i can't stand that emma is immune right now because deciding who to vote off is going to be impossible and people are going to be coming for me so i'm like, probably most definitely gone or whatever. and that means i'm going to have to do the arena challenge and NOT have a day off which... ugh....... dont get me wrong i know that ORGs are time commitments but usually i win the premerge challenges so THIS IS NEW OKAy kdhfnsdkfndkfndf. i'm just annoyed and i'm so over my tribe... and i didn't find any advantages at the olympic village i finally remembered to search in. anyway i dont even wanna THINK about tribal rn so this is just me saying fuck this challenge and ughhh i'm so TIRED just so fatigued of everything, i'll like come back tmrw and strategize or something. *throws a rock at the cameraman* fuck this shit i'm out, give me the osake RIGHT! GOD DAMN! NOW! (alcohol for all you non duolingo-ers)

i'm kinda happy that bailey was evacuated from the game, she would have been voted out regardless and this gives our tribe better odds at survival. even if we had gone to tribal i would've been comfortable, but now i feel like it's better than i try to prove my value as a player by competing in the arena! kinda excited.

tribal three times in a row check! 😍✨💋 LMAO no one is wanting to actually talk to me about it so i’m hoping that i can still sway the votes in my favor but we’ll see! i think landen would defiantly do his best to help keep me from going, but it’s all a matter of who would we send instead. so! we’ll see! at least i can say i did my best 

So, for starters, the past round went pretty much as expected.  Kathy was the vote off from my tribe, and she lost at the arena, as well, past round I found nothing yet again at the village.   Now, right now in terms of this round, my tribe didn't win immunity, but Bailey ended up getting medically evacuated due to getting three inactivity strikes, so the tribal got cancelled for my tribe, and Beck ended up volunteering to do the arena.  So basically, just awaiting to search Olympic Village again, and hoping to goodness there is a tribe swap next round, since right now my tribe is just my alliance with Ben and Beck, which will make things rough come another loss with no swap.

yep worst case scenario happened. My tribe lost with me sitting out and Will, my one main ally, not showing up to the challenge at all!! I was hoping it could be an easy vote so i didn’t have to vote and I could get the advantage but now it seems like my tribe is ready to boot Will and if I want that advantage I need two of those other three to vote against each other! God this is gonna be hard... 

I’m in a tough predicament here. I could either A. play it safe, agree with everyone to vote will or B. try to save my ally and my advantage at the same time by getting Sarah and Eve to vote out Nik, risking my whole game. Godddd I don’t know!! aaaagh! 

it's 10am, tribal is in 10 hours, and i've had about 10 separate heart attacks throughout the morning. i don't know what to do tonight. i'm really struggling to figure out what's right. my heart says jacob, that's definitely where i'm leaning. juls is my closest ally at this point, and after the whole debacle with Billy, voting him out, then instantly starting to bond with him and all that, and apologizing, and him sticking by me even after I voted him out first, I would feel terrible voting for him again and I want us to prove to eachother we can trust eachother. but the fact he said juls' name.. if that's who he's going to go for, i simply can't prove to him i will vote with him. i'm tight with juls, she saved me even over emma, and i just really feel a bond with her. we're both the youngest in this cast, we both have lots in common, it really do feel like we're the same person at times. at the same time, my head tells me jacob is good in challenges, and will be ok in arena, but that i really don't need a 3rd person upset at me for going to the arena, and if Emma is still coming after me, she could probably use me coming for Jacob to her advantage, but I don't even know where she's voting or what she's thinking. i'm torn about this vote, and it's all the more annoying that if emma just hadn't fucked up at the last challenge, we wouldn't be here without someone to vote right now. we'd all be able to agree on emma or jacob probably, and it would just... it would still suck complete ass, but it wouldn't be as complicated as it is now. with a tribe as tiny as 5 people, going to tribal THREE times, with all the same 5 people.. it's just not something we can afford. our tribe is being torn apart and... whew, i just need the swap. give it to me rn. as of now, i'm thinking i'm going to vote jacob, and i hope i can get billy on board for that and take his mind off juls. that's where my head is at right now... tribal is making me sick to my stomach

What the f does I stan you even mean? Am I old? And I no longer hip and down with the lingo? Bogus, man...

Our first tribal is tonight... I hate to say it, but I'm voting for Will. Nobody has heard from him in days, or for the last challenge, and tonight will be a second strike if he doesn't come back for tribal. WILL I'M SORRY. I definitely would not have voted him otherwise, he did great on the other challenges and is a great personality to have around. Come back for the next season Will.. 

I am the swing vote again lol Juls got blamed for messing up last vote by Emma and Billy, which considering Juls is beloved by everyone, PERFECT But now since we lost I need to pick a side, Landen and Juls or Emma and Billy. I like Emma, Billy sketches me out. Landen is the perfect meat shield for eternity. He's a bit of a blabbermouth. I watched the tapes of the live tribal, he sold me out unknowingly in front of Billy. How am I supposed to both sides these people now!? I could get sold onto a Landen vote, but that's not being sold, so WELL, who do I screw over. I feel so bad voting out Juls, but that's a reason to vote her out too, gah. GAH. Do I pick a side and lowkey goat, or do I make my control of the tribe forefront (but not evident because everyone hates each other) Time will tell. 1 Hour until tribal, and I have no idea what to do. inb4 voted out

why the FUCK does emma have immunity? she's literally so useless and does nothing in challenges... and the fact she already turned on juls, this quick, over practically nothing? im sick to my stomach, love. i know i said that already, but you know what? I must have the flu, because my nausea is neverending with this tribe and our constant spins at tribal council. as emma once said, we're basically taking turns sending people to the hellish arena. but the twist is so complex because you can't send someone you like there, because there IS always the very real chance that they lose the challenge. going there could be a good risk if you're smart with it, but it could be a risk that puts your entire game in jeopardy and i'm a KNOWN safe player when it comes to game mechanics ^_^ the only risks i take are in emotional labor! speaking of, myself and juls have both been working very hard to keep her safe from billy and emma's focused target on her, but i don't see it happening.. Billy and em seem to be tight now and it seems like they've convinced jacob to take out juls. The really horrible thing about all this, is that if i want to save juls.... i'm likely going to have to vote billy. and that is going to be aching, because i really like the guy, and i was being 100% honest and genuine with him saying i wanted to be on his side, to prove to him i have his trust and that i will be loyal to him and want to work with him til the endgame and be his ally. but if he's going to go against juls and i have to choose between the two of them..... i mean, i can't choose billy. it would be bad. so there's 30 minutes left and i don't have a clear idea of what's happening yet and any choice i make will permanently damage a tight connection that I thought I had heading into the later game. I guess in good news, Sammy, Caeleb, and a new friend, Jordan, ALL messaged me saying good luck at tribal, and talking to me a bit about it, saying they hope I'm safe. Forming those cross tribal bonds could be crucial in surviving the next stage of the game, which, god please, is happening VERY soon... *i bind myself to the cross* Give me strength to get through this, Japan. Onegaishimasu.

So far the game is makin  me p sad, I’m super tired of going to tribal and having to send people to arena. And that Japanese challenge was so damn frustrating 

so tribal last night.... i mean, uh, i guess my power, huh? lmao........... MESS!!! IM A MESS MY GAME IS A MESS THIS WHOLE DAMN THING IS A MESS. Someone get me a MOP rn because Sonkei-Matsing tribe is STRUGGLING and it's all EMMA'S FAULT!!!!! On the other hand, I'm very grateful Emma is an idiot, because Billy got to be safe!!! So let me explain what happened in that bonkers tribal council, from MY perspective... When I heard that my closest ally Juls had her name coming up, i was like, oh HELL. NO. So I put in the WORK to get Jacob and Billy to vote for eachother. Don't get me wrong, Juls worked hella hard on this too, she is a bad ass bitch and she deserves credit. But I do believe I was a major factor in swaying their votes as well as I'd built pretty close relationships with each of them in terms of strategy. But with Billy, that relationship wasn't a tight trusting one, more of a, please, I like you a lot, let me prove to you that I can be trusted and we can work together. Let us prove that to eachother. But here's how it happened. Even though Jacob and Billy DID vote for eachother... NEITHER OF THEM TOLD ME THEY WERE VOTING FOR EACH-OTHER. BILLY LED ME TO BELIEVE HE WAS VOTING JULS THE WHOLEEEEE TIME. And initially, I was fine with it, and i was STILL going to vote Jacob off with Juls!! Thinking there was nothing I could do and she would go 3-2. But then, 5 minutes into tribal, you'll see me furiously typing... Because Jacob FINALLY told me he was going to vote for Billy (and that's on Whispering!!! #LiveTribal!!) So from my perspective.... Billy and Emma are voting Juls. Juls is voting Jacob. Jacob is voting Billy. It's 2-1-1... and if I vote for Jacob, then Jacob and Juls can't vote, and Billy and Emma have the majority to send Juls out, saving Jacob on the revote. BUT if I vote for Billy, then Billy and Juls can't vote, and now me and Jacob have the majority over Emma. That was the thought process behind my initial vote for Billy. LITTLE DID I KNOW BILLY ACTUALLY WAS VOTING WITH ME AND NOW I FEEL HORRIBLE FOR VOTING FOR HIM AND I JUST WANT TO MAKE IT UP TO HIM BUT HE DIDN'T TEXT ME WHEN HE GOT OFF AND UGH, I NEED TO MAKE THIS RIGHT!!!! Emotional labor is the most annoying thing, and I'm really bad it. I'm terrible at apologizing and owning up to things, maybe that's why I just let my friendships fall apart in real life instead of doing the actual work to save them once a problem happens. because emotional labor is fucking annoying, exhausting, and stressful! I don't got time for it! But now, I need to have time for it, because our tribes are FIVE PEOPLE strong, and at the next tribal council, if I don't get my relationship with Billy in check, I WILL be gone. It is his vote that I need to help make sure Emma's psycho ass goes home, and if he, Jacob, and Emma all think they're on the bottom... Yikes. I hope Billy understands that I was absolutely disgusted it came down to him or Juls and I thought I was doing everything I could to save an ally.. I even swayed Juls to help save him with me, when she felt uncomfortable with him. He totally screwed up by like... not telling me he was voting with me, he said in tribal people just need to be real with where they're voting, and I agree! I wish he had just followed his own advice with me, because he would still be here right now. But his screw up does not at all compare to Emma... what the FUCK was she thinking, self-voting like that...? Like, HELLO? She throws out Juls' name all round, for I don't even know WHAT reason, since they were supposedly close, but it's implied she throws out Juls' name for getting 4 crowns on the challenge... Um, YOU STUPID BITCH YOU LITERALLY ONLY GOT ONE MORE CROWN THAN HER AND BEFORE THAT DID NOTHING ON THE SLIDE PUZZLE CHALLENGE OR THE TRIBE CHANT, DESPITE US KNOWING YOU CAN PUT IN THE TIME WHEN YOUR LIFE DEPENDS ON IT IN THE ARENA :) Headass.... Then, after doing that all round, she SELF-VOTES??? WITH IMMUNITY AROUND HER NECK??? Girl you MUST be crazy, cus this is psychotic. Headass, deadass, she is gone the next time we lose tribal, which, lbr, is probably next time because we're LIT RALLY matsing. at least caeleb thinks i'm denise though. i feel like i have the same amount of wrinkles as her, after the stress of this game like 3 rounds in. imagine how tired i am.  

Round 3's over! That's fun, innit? Glad we got rid of some dead weight in Bailey. As for friendships and alliances, I'm still slightly on edge about Darcy - I trust Beck over him. Got acquainted with Karen - they seem nice, but I'll keep an eye on them, too. Other than that, Nicole and Tommy are the people I'm mainly corresponding with. Seems like fun! :) Here's to a fun Round 4!

Okay so we won this round which is fun! Tommy went to the arena which gives me, Karen and Kevin a good chance to bond because Stoner just isn’t paying attention ever. I wonder if he has even made a confessional. Anyway, I’m going to be real annoyed if we lose and he whips out an idol. Also going to be mad if after this round there’s a swap and I’m swapfucked. I don’t think it really COULD happen to me though, because I’ve talked to at least one newbie on each of the tribes. Unless I’m stuck with Nik, Emma and Billy who have no interest in speaking to me, I think I’ll be fine. Speaking of newbies, I find myself talking to Ben a lot but I’m under the impression he talks to a lot of people. He reminds me of a lot of friendly pure men in this community like Joey, just very social and very nice! The only thing is sometimes he will say something in a conversation and I don’t necessarily know where to go with it. For example right now he’s having a full conversation with me in the village chat about pizza. I don’t know what to do with this and rather not be so vocal in the village chat. While the other newbies are increasingly hard to talk to, and sitting around all day waiting for the arena stuff is boring, Ben is a very nice person to talk to but I just wish we would talk like...about the game not what I’m eating. When it comes down to it I want to know I have an ally or two to bring to the end that might offset my immediate threat of being a winner, but not give them so much power that they win over jury votes. He seems to be showing his social side and not giving me any game info at the same time, which I have to look out for. All of the other newbies I’ve spoken to have talked game. He’s either playing a really good game by doing this or a really transparent one, I can’t tell yet. We will have to see! 

Last night proved something that I’ve been wondering about Landen for a while. He truly is a snake. I unintentionally made a really good move in keeping it mysterious on who I was voting. In order to make the vote go his way and to keep Juls, he instead changed the vote to ME and got Jacob to do the same. Sneaky mother fucker 😋 thank god Juls stayed the same though. I know for an absolute fact now that I won’t be able to trust him. As for Jacob, I do hope he comes back, because now that I know where the tribe stands I know I can get him on my side.

I don't know if I ever had such a frustrating round for challenges first duolingo and now the arena I was in the lead in front of everyone until the last clue and I lost it all I didn't get a medal. I'm so pissed, you really don't wanna @ me anytime soon because I'm at the point where I wanna go off on someone. 

Love the tribe, so happy we 5-0d the last tribal!! it was a cute moment!! hehe, we seem to be very together as a unit

So Will’s gone, well he’s at the arena but i think he died so he’s probably out for good. Now that he’s out that leaves me on the bottom of my tribe as the next to go, my only hope is getting as close to sarah as I can and crossing my fingers for a swap! Due to that triple tribal I think it’s going to happen next... hopefully! 

Ughh i keep forgetting to make confessionals until right before the round ends so im always like oh shit and then dont really know what im gonna talk about so its not good. hows things in the life of jordan pines? great thanks for asking, while i still feel on the bottom of my tirbe i definitly see a swap coming soon which i think depending on how it goes would be pretty good for me. Id ideally like to stay with most of the people ive been with plus new ones, becuse i think im seen as like an expendable numebr to caeleb and Jacob. I want them to keep thinking of me like this while I go out and start forming stronger relationships, keep bringing in those jordan pines minions, i got my sights set on billy right now, i like him but he makes me look as humble as they come and ive i could definitly turn him into a goat for me with the right coaxing. Im hoping will survives the arena cause hes for sure a number for me, but hes also a lil innactive so maybe he peaced. Im starting to build relationships with Landen who I like. I havent even looked at the all winners tribe holy shit. Karen and Stoner are gonna be my biggest obstacles as they dont necesarily love me. Im gonna try to work with Nicole for a bit if i can tbh. Thats really all im feeling right now. I think best cast scenario is people use me as a number and carry me just a little too far that I can turn shit around and fuck em over. It's definitely gonna be an uphill climb to the finish line, but the only way to do it is go step by step.

I feel like I am in a great position on my tribe! I trust Sarah and Eve a lot. Pete says he has my back so we can only hope that in the case of another tribal council, I will be safe! I’m still going to work my ass off and play my ass off to stay safe and not have to go to another tribal! This game is long and hard and I’m trying to see big picture. And within that big picture is a flashing sign that’s telling me there’s a tribe swap soon! Hopefully I’ll be able to work some magic and avoid being on a tribe with individuals that don’t like me. But overall I’m feeling pretty good after the last tribal!

#zestypowerfuluniqueflavorfulhealthy #confessionals

[areiton]

text me maybe

Summary:

He’s drunk and there’s a really hazy decade in the nineties that Rhodey looks pained when he even thinks about that says doing shit when he’s drunk is a bad idea.

There’s also a new building on MIT campus and a yearly donation that supports that theory.

But MIT and Rhodey are far away and that clunky black flip phone is not, and he snarls as he snatches it up and punches in the message.

It takes almost five minutes because the tech is obsolete and he is drunk but he does and he smiles at it, viciously pleased.

~*~

Chapter 2 of 4. Lots of angst and miscommunication and pining. Enjoy.

Read on AO3 | Chapter 1 

~*~ 

He panics.

Because this--this was only ever supposed to be a drunk dial--Steve was never supposed to respond, he wasn't supposed to fall for Steve.

He's been down that road, right after New York, when the team scattered and it was just Tony and Steve in a big empty tower and the reasons they didn't get along, the reasons Tony resented him all felt very far away.

And it never worked. Steve and Tony--it never worked. It cut at him, because there's a part of him, the young boy who idolized Captain America, who wanted it to.

He doesn't know what the hell this is.

He doesn't even know that he wants it. Steve--he knows Steve, knows his good and his bad and he knows they don't fit together. They work well as colleagues, and sometimes as friends, but they weren't the kind of people who could make their differences fit into a relationship. They were too similar.

He ignores the phone and the steady stream of messages for three days, ignores the pounding in his heart every time his vision lights up with a new one, and the stupid treacherous voice in his head that says--this could be a  good thing.

This could be the best thing.

He thinks, if it were anyone but Steve.

He ruthlessly silences the voice that says, maybe .

  ~*~

  "Are you ok?" Peter asks, and Tony blinks at him. They're at one of the kid's favorite diners, and he's staring into nothing, half-listening to the boy ramble about a science project he and Ned are working on.

Shit.

He's doing that thing again, where he tunes the boy out. He swore he'd stop doing that, after the kid had a damn building dropped on him. He deserves better than that.

"Sorry--sorry, I'm listening."

Peter shifts, rubs his hands on his jeans and gives Tony a bright smile. "You know I can listen too."

Tony pauses and stares at him, not sure what to do that. Except--it's not that surprising. It's such a Peter thing to say it almost hurts .

"My relationship problems aren't your problem, kid," he says gently and Peter gives him a bright smile.

"You listened, when I was upset about everything with Liz, and that time with Harry. I can listen, sir."

"Part of the gig--mentoring baby superheroes means listening to relationship woes."

Peter frowns, probably because of the baby comment, but he just stares at Tony, his gaze sad and steady. "You don't always have to be the one listening. It's not just about what you can give other people, Mr. Stark."

Tony stares for a long minute, and then--"You'll be mad."

Peter doesn't say anything, just stares, patiently waiting and Tony sighs. "I think I want to date Steve."

Peter's spit take is almost worth the hour of explanation that little declaration causes.

Almost.

  ~*~

  He hesitates over the message.

Not sure he should send it and not sure he shouldn’t. It says something, if Steve picks up the subtlety--which, Rhodey doesn’t think he will because as soon as he finished explaining to Pete what was going on, Peter called Rhodes and spilled it all.

It wasn’t a fun night.

Peter is still angry, though he says it’s not with Tony himself.

  I told Pete and Rhodey about us.

  He exhales slow, fingers shaking just a little as he waits.

He doesn’t know what Steve will say to that. In all the time they’ve been texting, they’ve never talked about telling people--or not.

For all he knows, Steve lets Barnes read every one of these damn texts.

The idea sits in his stomach, sour and terrifying.

  How’d they take it?

  No questions about his recent silence. Tony blows out a breath, relieved.

  Rhodey is annoyed but only because I’m being self-destructive. He’s used to it though. Pete--Pete is still pissed. He doesn’t trust you.

  There’s a longer pause this time.

  Smart of him. I’m not exactly trustworthy. I know if you were mine, I wouldn’t trust another fella with you.

  Tony gapes at that for a long moment, and then, before he can form a response.

  Gotta go. Gonna be radio silent for a few days. Should make Pete happy.

  ~*~

  Steve is jealous .

It's so absurd that it takes two days and showing the damn messages to Rhodey before he actually wraps his head around it.

"Guess you got your answer, Tones," Rhodey says, a wry smile on his lips. He blinks at his best friend, then the message, then his best friend again.

"Steve is jealous ," he says, stupidly. "Of Pete ."

"What exactly does Steve know about Peter?" Rhodey asks, "Because unless it's that he's a fifteen year old baby superhero, yeah--I can understand why Steve'd be jealous."

Tony huffs a sigh. "Why does everyone always expect me to lead with that?"

Rhodey snorts, and turns back to his documentary. "Because everything else is burying the lede," he says. "Go tell your boy that the kid is just that. How you manage to fuck up straight forward communication, Tones, I swear to god, you're a gift."

Tony sticks his tongue out at Rhodey, and frowns at the phone.

And then, smiles.

  ~*~

  He waits. Steve is radio silent anyway, so waiting is no real hardship. He shows up at Peter’s science fair, stands near the back, as unobtrusive as Tony Stark at a high school science fair can be, and when it’s over and Peter bounds up to him with a big medal on a blue ribbon and a bigger smile, he drags the boy in, takes a picture that he immediately sets as his lockscreen before dragging Peter out for cheeseburgers and milkshakes.

And later, much later, when Pete has been returned home, and Tony has slipped back into the Tower and showered and fucked around in the ‘shop for a few hours, the bots getting tune-ups that none of them need, DUM-E beeping and pinching at him grumpily--after he is laying in his bed and dawn has started to lighten the sky, he sends the text.

The picture of him and Peter and that Midtown Science award, and Pete’s blinding pride.

And four little words, that feels like a confession weighing this thing that has become a joke down.

  I’m proud of Peter.

  ~*~

That is Peter.

  Tony, that's a child.

  He's an intern. Brilliant--reminds me of myself at that age--well, the genius bit. Not the drug using slut part. Pete's too good for that.

  He's a CHILD.

  Did you think he wasn't?

  That's mean and he damn well knows it. But he's tired of them dancing around something this big.

  Well--yeah? Thought maybe he was someone you were datin.

  Tony licks his lips. Rhodey's mocking, gentle smile is still in his mind, his disbelief that Tony could fuck up simple communication, and maybe--maybe if he and Steve had just fucking talked , they never would have been in this position to begin with.

  I'm not dating. Not since Potts left me. There were a few one night stands but not--not for a while.

  There's a long pause, and his heart pounds, too hard for a man his age and with his heart condition--he feels stripped bare and there's a part of him that hates it.

That wants to take it back and laugh it off.

A bigger, lonelier part of him keeps his mouth shut and waits.

  How long?

  Bastard, Tony thinks, affectionately. Always pushing for more.

But for all that it's a small demand--it comes across as more vulnerable than it does cocky. He still doesn't know how to handle vulnerable in Steve.

  Not since before we started talking.

  There it is. In bright black and white, spelled out, his heart for anyone to see.

  He turns the phone off and runs shaking hands through his hair, because as desperate as he is to know what Steve would say to that--he isn't sure he's ready to know.

  ~*~

  When he turns the phone on, there are fourteen messages.

Fourteen and his heart, a twitchy, unstable thing since he turned the damn thing off finally settles.

  Is it selfish of me to say I'm glad?

  I want to keep you all to myself.

  I know you have Pete, have Rhodes--but I hate them sometimes, for seeing you, for getting to see your smiles and hearing your laugh. Is that stupid?

  You asked what i'd want if I were there. i wish I could show you, baby. I wish I could touch you.

  We're leaving here, soon. I don't know where we're going.

  Tony, please talk to me. I know you're scared, sweetheart, but I promise I'd never hurt you.

  You got no reason to trust me. I know that.

  There's--we--

  PICTURE ATTACHED

  He stares at the picture for a long time. Barnes is in it, his hair loose and the glinting metal arm unmistakable. It makes his fingers tremble, and he squeezes his eyes shut, blocking out the soldier that Steve chose, blocking out the sunset that he wants to share.

  I want to go home. I'm so tired, Tony.

  And scared. I wish--I wish things were different.

  i need to talk to you and i'm so scared.

  I know--we have to talk. Not like this. But soon. We have to talk.

  We're going out on a mission. I'll text when we get home.

  Tony stares at it, at the rambling confessions and the naked fear in his messages and that damn picture of Barnes and a sunset so beautiful it takes his breath away and he tries to make it all make sense.

But Steve Rogers stopped making sense to him a long fucking time ago.

  ~*~

  The Accords are finalized on a day three weeks after Steve goes radio silent.

It's anti-climatic. After months of negotiating, after sleepless nights and endless phone calls and meetings with his legal team, with other enhanced people, with senators and survivors and foreign diplomats--after everything--it's something he can sign without feeling like he's signing away a part of his soul.

It's something he can sign and he thinks--it might even be something Steve would be willing to sign.

The Rogues are granted immunity, a full pardon. Even Barnes, conditional on having his triggers removed and attending mandated therapy to work through almost a century of torture and abuse.

It's better than Tony expected, if he's honest.

He thinks--it might be better than they deserve.

But Barnes is Steve's best friend, and as angry as he was , he knows that the murder of his parents doesn't belong at the Soldier's feet. That was Hydra. He was just the murder weapon.

He reaches for his phone, and send the first message since Steve vanished.

  I did it. The Accords--they're finalized. I protected as many as I could--the children and the innocent. The Rogues--you can all come home.

  He hesitates a moment and then sends a second message.

  I'm sorry it took so long. I miss you. Come home soon.

  Then he slips it in his pocket and fixes a smile on his face as he steps into a crowded press room to tell the world the news.

  ~*~

  He is disgustingly sober when he sends another text.

  You said once, you missed home. And I--maybe you don’t consider the Tower home. Not anymore. But it is. For you--it will always be a home for you.

  ~*~

  He's sleeping when the phone rings. It's FRIDAY who wakes him, under strict orders that when Steve's number comes through, none of his privacy protocols applied.

He fumbles for it, squinting at the too bright screen and it takes him entirely too long to realize--it's not a text message.

The phone is ringing .

He almost drops the phone but he manages to answer it, and his voice is steady when he says, "Rogers?"

There's a beat of silence, and then a broken sounding sob. Fear crackles down his spine, and he straightens up in bed, voice urgent, "Steve? Talk to me."

"He's--" the voice is wrong, too deep, gritty gravel deep and it shivers in his belly. "It's Barnes. Steve--Stevie got hurt."

There's a flash of fury, that Barnes is on the other end when all he wants is Steve. And a flare of worry, white hot and all consuming, and he can barely breathe through the gut punch of it.

Barnes is still making that hurt sound, almost crying, and he closes his eyes.

"What happened?"

"Mission. We went on the mission, and he--it went wrong. We got captured."

"How bad is it?" Tony asks, because James fucking Barnes is asking him for help. Steve might very well be dying.

"Bad," he says, soft and scared. "I--Tony, I think he's dying."

No.

No.

Not now.

Not when they could finally fix everything.

No .

"Bring him here," Tony says. "You--all of you. Come home."

"Tony," Barnes breathes, and he can hear the hesitance in his tone, and he doesn't have time for this, Steve doesn't have time for this.

"Where are you?" he demands, and Bucky pauses for just a moment.

Just long enough for fear to crystalize in his gut.

And then, "Belfast. We're in Belfast."

Relief makes him dizzy and he nods. "Quinnjet is on it's way. I'll have Cho here before you touch down. Keep him alive until you get here."

Bucky hesitates, and then, "We need to talk."

"Nothing to say," he says, and there's a long silence and he fills it. "I'll see you when you land."

He tosses the phone down and goes to the bar and pours the first--only--drink he'll allow himself.

His hand shakes so badly he almost drops it.

When his hands are finally steady and the whiskey sits in melting ice on the kitchen table and the sun begins to peek through the skyline--he calls Rhodey.

  ~*~

  Rhodey is by his side when the quinnjet lands.

He leans into Tony, a subtle reminder of his presence, when the ramp extends. Natasha and Clint come down first, and he twitches, staying in place only because they look like hell. Sam Wilson comes next, Steve carried in his arms, arms twisted around his neck. He’s breathing, but there’s blood covering both of them, and a limpness to Steve that worries Tony.

The way that Sam’s head is dipped toward him, the way that Steve clings to the other man--that stabs like a knife in his gut, and he blinks against the pain of it.

It doesn’t make sense, that kind of intimacy.

Or maybe it does.

Maybe the texts meant nothing.

It wouldn’t be the first time Tony misgauged his worth to Steve.

“Thanks,” Sam says, “For letting him--we appreciate it. You didn’t have to.”

Steve peers at him through tired, bloodshot eyes. “You didn’t have to. I appreciate it.”

“I told you--”

“Tony,” a low voice says, and he registers, dimly, that Bucky has emerged from the quinnjet, that he’s staring with something desperate in his eyes.

“The tower is your home. It always will be.”

Steve frowns, confusion bright in his eyes, and says, dumbly, “What?”

Tony’s heartbeat is pounding in his ears, and his fingertips tingle. Sam’s grip has tightened on Steve, holding him a little closer, his gaze on Tony cool and possessive.

“In--the text? Did you not get it?”

He sounds so small. So confused. He hates it.

Steve coughs. “Tony, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The world spins a little, and months, months of confessions and teasing and healing shifts, adrift suddenly.

He fumbles for his phone and a hand--metal, silver, warm, heavy--comes over his hand, stopping him.

“He lost the phone,” Barnes says, and the pounding gets louder. There’s a small black phone in Bucky’s hand, ancient tech that makes Tony twitch, but it’s--

It’s.

“No,” he says, flatly, and Rhodey shifts closer. “ No.”

Steve is saying something, and Barnes is standing too close, and he can’t fucking breathe, and then--

Bucky reaches for him and Tony--

Tony punches him in the jaw.

#text me maybe #arei writes fic #winteriron #tony stark x bucky barnes #winteriron fic #texting #getting together

[welcometomyworldofbs]

Reason Number Two! {{Major Spoilers}}

Kinda goes alongside reason 1>>> The second reason why I think Nick isn’t an evil prick is because he is, by nature, a bloodthirsty, homicidal, bay-shit crazy demon who thinks nothing deserves the sweet release of death. In short- he’s the Malachai. {{but he’s not JUST the Malachai, now is he?}}

I don’t know why this is so hard for some to grasp, but I’m serious on the whole he-acts-like,-a-million-times-better-than-any-of-his-fathers-before-him-thing. 100% serious about him being a big ‘ole Malachai. If you don’t believe me, google it. Also, if you were your own worst enemy ((literally speaking)) then you wouldn’t be happy either ((read the bottom if you haven’t read CON)).

Honestly- I think it’s easier to accept the fact that he’s a special bean rather than swim in Denial River.

Sorry to be the Bear of Bad News, but Nicky Gautier is a blue-eyed demon boy who the Simi loves and wishes she could eats. It’s a thing, people.

Key words being “demon boy.” I can’t stress this enough. And for those of you who haven’t read CON yet, allow me to educate you on the big bad nightmarish hatred-infused bloodsucking demon.

1.) they are the most hateful, angry demons. Period. They don’t give a fuuuuuuuuuuudge about who they hurt. The only time they’d care is if they personally wanted you dead {which is basically almost every being}. Ever.

2.) they have always been the most feared species of demonkyn. Ever since Monakribos curse his sons, to be exact. You know, beginning of Time and stuff.

3.) they are HELLA HELLA MACHO POWERFUL!!! I mean VERY POWERFUL. like, up there with gods and such.

Major powers include: ATTENTION!! THESE ARE COPIED FROM NICK’S (CON) WIKIPEDIA!! IT IS NOT MINE ORIGINALLY! I DID NOT WANT TO TAKE THE TIME TO TYPE THIS OUT, BUT IT IS FACT CHECKED AND WHAT NOT! PLEASE DON’T GIVE ME CREDIT OR WHATEVER FOR TYPING IT! hehe…anyhoo-

-Malachai Abilities:

Demon Glamour: Nick, due to being born from a race that were the consorts and soldiers to the dark gods, has extreme charisma and very good looks.

Demon Summoning: Nick was capable of summoning Caleb to an alternate universe and back again.

Divination: Nick has a talent for scrying. This means that he can see the past, present, and future on any reflective surface, though he seems to favor his black scrying mirror.

Empathy: The Malachai, being a creature born of hatred, has empathy so that it knows how to emotionally destroy his enemies. Nick uses this ability subconsciously to help his friends.

Enslavement: Nick is capable of enslaving a demon by saving his/her life. He accidentally did this to Zavid.

Eternal Enslavement: Nick is capable of tying an enslaved demon’s geish (or essence) to his powers, meaning that the demon will always be enslaved to whoever has his powers. Adarian did this to Caleb.

Eye of Ananke Absorption: By absorbing the power in the Eye of Ananke, Nick is now able to see all possible futures, instead of only seeing what is available in the Ether.

Fate god: Nick is capable of using the Eye of Ananke, something only fate gods are capable of doing.

Fear Factor: Malachai demons are the most feared of all demonkyn.

Elemental Control: Darkness Darkness Generation: Nick is capable of controlling the element of Night (through Noir). This allowed him to defeat Alternate Thorn with ease.

Electrokinesis: Nick is capable of creating lightning bolts.

Fire Blasts: Nick has the ability to produce extremely powerful balls of flame. These seem to function similarly to God-bolts and can disintegrate a Dramonk with a single hit.

Emotion Feeding: Nick grows stronger when in the presence of hatred and malice. When he went to prison his power increased.

God-killer: Nick is a god-killer in the sense that he is capable of killing gods without destroying the universe.

Healing: When Nick first tapped into his demonic heritage, his gunshot wound healed instantly. He also seems to be capable of healing others, such as when he healed Little Simi in the alternate universe.

Hidden Fate: Fate gods are incapable of using their innate abilities to see Nick’s true fate. When Acheron looked into Nick’s future, he saw Nick happily married with children instead of his Malachai heritage.

Immortality: Nick is immortal in the sense that he will never age. Though he could be killed by severe trauma, this is highly unlikely as it will upset the balance of the universe.

Immunity: The Malachai is immune to Chthonian powers as well as Acheron’s ability to make people desire him.

Languages: Nick has the ability to understand and speak any language. This extends to the Primal Language, which most high-level gods don’t know.

Lie Detection: Nick is implied by Ambrose to have this.

Magical Physiology: Nick’s blood, bones, and organs are magical by nature and can be used in several dark spells, such as when Xenon used some of his blood to send Devus’s master away.

Malachai Form: Nick is capable of unleashing his inner demon. In this form he has indestructible armor, claws capable of ripping enemies to shreds, fangs, vastly increased strength, speed and reaction time, and wings.

Mind Control: Nick is able to directly control the minds of others. This is seen in Instinct, where he confused the paramedics as well as the police officers.

Necromancy: Nick was capable of destroying the zombies the Mortents raised with a simple incantation and it has been said that once he receives enough training, he would be capable of restoring a soul from Azmodea, something that is said to be Jaden’s specialty.

Omniscience: Due to his connection to the ether, Nick can be considered omniscient with him being able to know anything at any given time.

Perspicacity: Nick can see through all disguises. The first time this ability manifested, he was capable of seeing Acheron in his “Harbinger” form, something even other gods are incapable of doing.

Pith Point Moving: Nick is capable of moving Pith points, something the Arelim (guardians of Time and Order) believe to be impossible. It is possible that he inherited this power from Jaden, seeing as Jaden does believe it to be possible.

Poisonous Blood: Nick’s blood is poisonous to Arelim.

Power Absorption: Nick can absorb the power of other beings by drinking their blood.

Presence Shielding: Nick can hide what he is to the extent that he appears human from others. This power works on Chthonians, demons, gods and psychics.

Realm Traveling: Nick can punch a hole between dimensions. He did this to travel from Agonia to his apartment.

Shapeshifting: The Malachai can theoretically assume any form that he wants. Adarian was able to pose as a 13-year-old schoolboy and later a middle-aged convict despite being thousands of years old.

Silkspeech: Nick can manipulate others using this power. It works by targeting aspects sensitive to others, such as when Zarelda used it on Nick by preying on his low self-esteem.

Spell Casting: Nick was capable of exchanging Devus’s soul with the girl Devus killed to make a deal with his master. He was also capable of summoning Menyara from a hell-dimension.

Super Strength: Malachai demons are incredibly strong, capable of overpowering gods, even the primary ones, with ease. Adarian used to tear lesser demons to shreds with his bare hands.

Supernatural Awareness: Nick can sense the presence of other supernaturals with ease, such as when he sensed Kaziel (something neither Caleb nor Xev was capable of doing).

Telekinesis: Nick can move things with his mind. His control of this ability, as of Invision, is weak at best.

Teleportation: Nick can instantly travel to any location.

Temporal Awareness: Nick can sense when someone is altering time. He can also see any changes made to the timeline, seeing as he remembers both the altered and the unaltered timelines.

Sephiroth Abilities:

Burning Light: Whilst trapped in Azmodea without his Malachai powers, he destroyed a portion of Noir’s forces by becoming engulfed in light. Since Malachais are creatures of darkness, it can be assumed that this stems from his Sephiroth heritage.

Healing: Malachais are incapable of healing, so it can be assumed that Nick’s ability to heal Little Simi stems from his Sephiroth heritage.

Other Abilities

Courage: Nick is capable of overcoming his fears and stand up to beings like Acheron, Noir and Thorn.

Indomitable Will: Nick is capable of maintaining silence under torture (as seen in Illusion when Alternate Acheron made him fight in gladiatorial-like matches against an Aamon).

Intelligence: Nick’s intelligence has been commented upon by numerous characters throughout the series. He got perfect scores on the admittance test to St. Richard’s, which is a very prestigious school.

——END FOR NOW——

If you didn’t take the time to read all that, I understand. BUT DO YOU GET IT NOW?

Notice the words SEPHIROTH POWERS above. That’s right. He’s not just a demon. He’s not just annoying and stubborn. HE’S ALL OF THE ABOVE.

Not so unreasonable for “no reason” anymore, huh? If you still think he’s an A-hole, I get it still. He really REALLY can be. But he can also, and should be according to history, be a billion times worse.

More to come later, but this post is hellaciously long enough.

#chronicles of nick #nick gautier #ambrose malachai #acheron #dark hunters

[cosmospoons]

House MD season 2

30 second episode recaps from someone whos just watched em for the first time and has bad recall

Ep1: they gotta cure the death row dude so he can go back to death row to b killed, cameron is Bad at telling ppl they're dying, house n Wilson had lunch with the coma guy, they cured death row man, also they changed the theme and I hate it Ep2: House has hayfever lmao, this cancer girl with hallucinations is honestly just the coolest she's so positive I love her, shes nine and got chase to kiss her hero,, house an Wilson have a shared balcony amazing, Wilson is so good and pure and is amazing at his job holy shit I love this man. House actually 'temporarily killed' the patient to cure her and made people run drills on a dead man. House is 400% going to buy a motorbike Ep3: i prayed for Cuddy's handyman to fall off her roof past the window and then god answered my prayers and he did, house broke into Cuddy's house mainly to look at her underwear lbr and then won the 'can we chop off his arm' argument, house secretly speaks spanish and waited for the most dramatic moment to reveal this, they gate crashed a cock fight (ayy) and saved the patient Ep4: the patient is a doctor with an ego ((according to house lmao pot, kettle)) who wanted to sit in on the diagnostic process and honestly is actually full of himself,, house puts him on a tippy table and cranks it up, foreman made a patient cry except he was pretending to be house lmao house got in shit,, Cameron needs to stop please, can the patient get his head out his arse please. house gatecrashes the press conference that the patient called and managed to put him into cardiac arrest on live television and eventually cured him of everything cept bein a knob Ep5: Wilson's handwriting is such doctor handwriting and house definitely bought a motorbike and made Wilson pay for it he's so pleased with himself. The kid keeps getting electrocuted but like,, by his own body. House is avoiding his parents but Cameron n Wilson aren't letting him get away with it. I love house n Wilson's friendship so much it's worth 5k apparently lmao. These patients are fukin serial liars jc why are ppl like this, it was rADIATION wow houses dad is a fucking DICK. There were so many good interactions and the house/wilson ship is sailing Ep6: there was a cyclist who took a LOT of drugs which turned out to be curing him of the thing he had, house is a douchebag but we all knew that - he may b a dick to mark but m sure mark deserves it n I love him anyway. Wilson remains a sweet boy even if he cheats idgaf he's adorable look at him ((wilson: i net someone who made me feel funny, me: was it hOUSE)),, he n house are balcony buddies and house shud stop stealing his food, and he should definitely stop digging thru stacys life but actually fuck it why not he's not gunna let go of this why is she so pissy i wanna know Ep7: I love houses new pet rat Steve McQueen,, Wilson is 4000% done with houses Stacy related antics which is fair tbh he should stop but I actually don't give much of a shit about Stacy I've taken against her....he did deserve what she said after reading her file tho. The patient may have given Cameron aids and Cameron got high and slept with Chase, who she may have given aids lmao these ppl r messes but not as much of a mess as that father/son relationship jc...i dont remember anything else about the patient whoops Ep8: chase is being suuuueeeeddd and he keeps lying about why lmao,, house fuckin reamed him one which was probably called for but maybe not like that, turns out chase screwed up cus his dad died and foreman is houses boss ((supervisor)) now how well do u think that's gunna work (((not very))) Stacy's still a bitch and has ~~feelings~~ Ep9: foreman is in charge and house is doing his utmost best to be the dick of the year and it's fucking hilarious honestly I love this man the shit he pulls jc,,, Wilson is super aware of houses antics as usual and had a mild gay panic when foreman started to question him about house,, the patient was a big ol Faker™ but surprise surprise she was actually sick this time ((house totally injected her with a load of stuff so she’d b readmitted after they’s released her)) Ep10: house solved a case thru the phone alone and spent most of the ep at the airport except for those five minutes when he almost slept with Stacy who once had a terrible experience with curry apparently and called house a vindaloo, nice restraint very well timed phone call thank fuck,,, they will sleep together tho and I am Not Happy about it....the power play amongst the fellows is a boiling pot of trouble - the patient was v interesting I enjoyed the word scramble game Ep12: WHAT A GOOD FUCKIN EP so the patient orgasmed in the white chamber while unconscious and covered in burns but more importantly house gatecrashed the lecture of his old archenemy that he had arranged just so he could disturb it and criticise the dude who got him thrown out of med school for snitchin on his cheating all whilst Wilson told him to get better hobbies (('a hooker anything please')),, to test this dudes migraine meds he gave deliberately himself a migraine and the meds didn't work (unsurprising) so the fellows turned out all the lights while he had a nap under the table,, wilson took a diff approach and deliberately made a Lot of noise because he is a Shit even if he hides it better than house,,,, then house dropped a tab of acid and took a bunch of antidepressants, and cured his migraine as well as the patient Ep13: houses leg was super duper sore but at least we got some fantastic house/wilson interaction when wilson pretended to be God during that MRI, even if house hit him with a cane.... The patient was a teen supermodel who seduced her own father to get whatever she wanted,, house was super sure she had cancer and it turns out she did but it was testicular because she had xy chromosomes and was immune to testosterone - which was really fucking interesting...... Also cuddy played house like a violin and gave him placebo saline instead of a morphine shot to prove to him that his leg pain was psychological Ep14: House is stealing organs now. Ok so technically he did get the husband's permission to steal his newly dead wife’s heart for the dying old dude with a strangely young daughter but only after he kneed house in the balls super hard. House spent the whole ep goin on at wilson about the affair he thought he was having and at the end wilson showed up on houses doorstep but sURPRIse !! It was his wife who was sleeping around!! poor baby Wilson I know what goes around comes around but he's such a kicked puppy cmon Ep15: Wilson and house living together is a recipe for disaster and I'm living for it so good so many good interactions I love that house is gunna keep him for his food ((I'll never b over house hearing the voicemail about Wilson's new place, looking over at him sleeping on the couch and then deleting it so he has to stay)). The patient had a super cool marriage and didn't have lupus except whoops actually not a happy marriage his wife is tryna kill him thru gold poisoning. House needs to stop accosting ppl in bathrooms and should also stop destroying marriages Ep16: oh man good shit so,, first of all house n Wilson are still living together and there are some Domestic Antics happening right here including but not limited to a prank war which house desperately tried to get Wilson to participate in, the peak of which had house making Wilson wet the couch and Wilson sabotaging houses cane. The patients mum was ridiculously overprotective and house essentially kidnapped the patient to find the tick noone else thought was there,, surprisingly Wilson helped set that up despite the fact house was the reason he woke up wet that morning Ep17: first things first house could absolutely clean everyone out at poker if he knows Cuddy's tells that well through just a phonecall,, also he needs to stop calling Wilson out on his toenail varnish habits lmao. The patient was a smol boy who presented the same symptoms as an unsolved and dead case that house had 12 yrs ago so he really wasn't gunna let this one go cus he's like a dog with a bone. They were in formal wear all ep which was a Good Look™ and Wilson's retelling of how he won the poker championship may have been one of the cutest things I have ever seen Ep18: Emma from Glee is here and she has the black plague,, her gf decided to donate her liver n Cameron was all het up cus house had worked out plague girl was gunna leave her and sending the gf in blind would be ~~unethical~~ but turns out she knew and deliberately did that so Emma would stay with her out of guilt lmao. In other news Cameron's pissy cus foreman 'stole' her article and house spent most of the episode napping cus wilson is fuckin up his sleep cycle ;) I'm upset there was no physical wilson Ep19: the most annoying patient so far appears in the form of a 15 yr old faith healer with herpes. I feel like the degree to which unrelenting niceness irritates me rly says something about me but eh oh well. Chase (ofc it was chase) kept a tally on who was winning God or house, faith healer managed to shrink a womans cancer tumour through giving her herpes (((a miracle praise be))) and during poker night house called wilson out on sleeping with said cancer patient and discovered wilson was actually living with her whoops bad Wilson ((he totally regrets his life choices ((he should)))) Ep20: HOLY SHIT ITS A TWOPARTER AND FOREMANS GUNNA DIE !! Ok so,,, there was this cop who couldn't stop laughing till he could but then it got a lot worse and then foreman caught whatever it was which they began to realise when he smirked as house shot a corpse to see what a bullet in a brain would do to an MRI ((spoilers it broke the machine)) anyway long story short it wasnt the pigeons and the cops dead and foreman is gunna die even after that shitdick move he pulled where he stabbed Cameron with a needle so she'd go to the apartment Ep21: HOO BOY OK SO a lot happened so much happened the most important thing is foreman by the end of the ep is mostly kind of ok - he's just a bit muddled on his lefts n rights. During the ep house was stressed the entire time cus even tho he denys it he does love n care for his ducklings,, he even cares enough to deliberately attempt to poison Steve McQueen which didn't work but can be added to the list of stressful events. Cameron grew a spine a lil bit I literally yelled when she berated cuddy and she forced the biopsy cus foreman had the foresight (ayyyyy) to make her his medical proxy even if house managed to find the problem anyway so it was ultimately unnecessary and has just resulted in some possible brain damage Ep22: house keeps trying to pick a fight with foreman and failing because Foreman's all happy go lucky now, the patient was mad because of a thing and killed her baby accidentally on purpose, the music that played during the baby autopsy was super unnecessary and bizzare, and in the end the woman had cancer but she's refusing treatment cus of the baby guilt. Cuddy didn't have cancer, which we know because Wilson ((WILSON NOT HOUSE)) stole her dna and ran secret tests in the middle of the night, but it still wasn't a date Wilson despite what house said about skin lessions she was actually just going to attempt to use u as a sperm donor - have fun at the L-word marathon with house you big sad loser (I love u) Ep23: we meet an old house friend which is Super fun he is ridiculously naive and I love that he calls house g-man holy shit. House is now giving cuddy injections as part of a fertility treatment which is nice of him especially seeing as his leg was in a Lot of pain this ep,, like a LOT...he's self-injecting morphine now which is probably bad :/ house's friend's daughter was the patient at one point she pooped out her mouth gRoSs and house ran a paternity test n told the girl she was actually the dudes daughter ((except he was lYINg in support of his friend)) he does care Ep24: HOUSE GOT SHOT WHAT IS IT WITH THIS TEAM SUFFERING RN JC this was a very fun episode of 'guess when house is hallucinating', spoilers the answer is all the time the whole ep takes place in his head. That aside I absolutely loved the hospital gown/trainer combo (no I won't apologize) and the fact that house did almost none of his physio - instead relegating it to others which is....not how it works. The hallucinatory clinic patient was freaky deaky his eye exploded and so did his dick but dw cus to escape the hallucination house killed him ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ what can u do. At the end house woke up n requested ketamine we'll see how that goes

Season 1

#these ep summaries just get longer n longer huh #itll probs b a while bfore season 3 #cus i have examsn #like #i have one on thurs #in 3/4 days #and i havent revised yet #whOOPs #ahhh well #house #house md #house summary #house season 2 #gregory house #james wilson #lisa cuddy #robert chase #eric foreman #allison cameron #hilson #yes im tagging it with that ship #because i ship it hard #no regrets #hugh laurie

[eminentfocus]

Stranger Than Fiction

“I’m such an idiot!  I can’t believe I said that!  They must absolutely hate me!  How will I ever recover from this?  I hate it here!”  We all do it.  I’m guilty too.  No one is immune to automatic negative thoughts.  We all toss around these negative thoughts to allow us to imagine potential threats and problems.  It is literally in our survival DNA to come to the worst-case-scenario.  This gives us an opportunity to correct our behaviors to avoid harm, it’s necessary.  We learned about a piece of this neural network last time, when we talked about loneliness.  Today, we will really examine the sneaky little cognitive distortions that lead to chronic stress and body trauma.  To do this, we must look at the story we tell ourselves to recognize our automatic negative thoughts.  Ready for the dive into the rabbit hole?  Here we go!

90 percent of the thoughts we have are habitual, that is, we have the same thoughts, daily, for the majority of our lives.  What is shocking is that most of those thoughts are negative.  Research has concluded that these negative thought patterns change the physical brain and our overall health.  Any study done on chronic stress will prove this point repeatedly.  The problem with automatic negative thoughts, or ANTs, is that they become habitual at a neurological level.  We are literally creating physical neuro pathways to change the structure of our brain and thinking patters each time we engage with these thoughts.  After some time, our behaviors and beliefs of logic change.  Our mind convinces us that something is true that has no accuracy.  Yikes!

Dr. Aaron Beck discovered “ANT thought streams” way back in the 1960’s when he was working with depression patients.  They had very similar thinking patterns and stories that they told themselves about how they “fit into” the world.  They had streams of thoughts in their heads most of the day about how they were not fit for the world and that they aren’t deserving of anything positive.  He was able to narrow down thousands of repeat thoughts and separate them into three clear categories: They displaced negative ANTs about themselves, the world and the future.  He quickly realized that the basis of these negative thinking patterns created a level of stress equal to a natural disaster for both our physical brain health and our mental well-being.  Today, I will tell you that noticing your own personal ANTs and employing some tools to challenge and control them is an amazing return of investment to yourself.  Turning off this useless, debilitating, negative chatter is one of the most powerful things you can do for your well-being.  You are worth it, I promise!

Today I will break down the nine most common ANTs so that we can recognize when we may be off the rails.  I will also give you four main tools to add to your toolbox that just may change how you think about most of the world.  I advised you that this would happen here, so let’s just rip off the band-aid and get on with it, shall we?

Black and white thinking.  We have already touched on the beast I like to call the “should monster”.  This guy is the president of the always and never club.  He tells us that things will always be this bad and that it will never get better.  He completely misses all the good opportunities.  He’s a jerk and a set-up.  Quiet him!

Focusing on the negative.  We all get into funks sometimes where everything just feels blah.  Sometimes someone cuts us off in traffic and the entire rest of the day is a steaming pile of shit.  Everything goes wrong and everyone is annoying.  Noticed that?  It’s not the world hunty, that’s you!  Do the roses have thorns or do the thorn vines have roses?  It’s up to you!

Fortune telling.  No matter what they say to you, you know you will suck.  You will bomb and everything that you imagined going wrong truly will.  No one can change your mind, even yourself.  You finish the project and get great reviews, yet still, you believe it failed.  It becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy at this point.  See why you cannot get a different result here?  You have decided to turn off your logic for fortune telling, why?  Stop that.  No one is that damn powerful!

Mind reading.  “Oh, boy!  I know they hate me!  I can see it in their face.  They look bored and pissed!  Ugh!  I know they absolutely cannot stand me right now”.  Did you ask?  Did you ever stop for a second and say, “hey, what are you thinking about”?  I bet if you did you would learn that most people are thinking about their own ANTs a lot more than they are thinking about you.  I know that probably stung a little, but the fact is that most people think about us way less than we think they do.  Most times when they think about us, it is not in a negative light, but because they need help from us.  Proven fact.  Believe it!

Thinking with your feelings.  You will hear me say it until you are sick of it: feelings are not directives, only warning signs.  We need them but do not always need to act on them.  It is okay to label and call out our emotions to try to reflect on the why, but this is where it must stop for your sanity.  If you spend too much time here you create physical neuro pathways, remember earlier?  Why the danger label?  When you lay these pathways, you go from feeling something to actually becoming the feeling.  This is a form of self-harm.  Yes, again.  I know!

Being ruled by should.  Ah!  The “should monster” strikes again!  See why I call him a guttersnipe?  He sits up on his pedestal and tells us how we should be doing things, thinking thoughts, caring for ourselves and others from his own level of survival.  He’s a real Richard!  We proved in an earlier post that guilting ourselves into change does not change behavior, see the alcohol and tobacco industry for quick examples.  Guess what?  It’s just more self-harm that actually demotivates you.  Hard truth.

Labeling.  Anyone who knows me understands that I struggle to label people.  I have a hard time giving police an accurate description of people because I just do not label people or things.  I cannot easily identify race, ethnicity, social status, and sometimes even gender because I have not practiced judging others on these things.  However, I label the shit out of myself!  Bad or aloof are two of my favorite labels for myself.  What have I learned about this?  Labels simply are thoughts that become self-fulfilling prophecies for yourself and ruin your relationships with other people.  Labels have no place except on canned goods.  Rip them off and throw them all away!

Taking things personally.  As I mentioned with the sting earlier, people do not think about us as much as we think they do.  When you see that someone is focused and engaged in their own mental turmoil it is so easy for us to assume that they are upset with us.  We see their face, notice their body language.  Hear their sighs of disapproval.  Automatic thought: I must have said or done something to upset them.  It has to be me because I looked at them.  I noticed their turmoil so it’s me!  Again, did you ask?  Again, I bet it’s not even about you!  They may be nervous about an upcoming presentation or meeting.  They may feel ill prepared for a test.  They may have gotten some bad news and not know how to process it… Most times, it’s not you!  You’re not quite that important.

Blame.  My alarm didn’t go off this morning, so it ruined my entire day.  You didn’t call ahead to give me enough time, it’s your fault we’re late!  Why didn’t you tell me right away?  It’s your fault it got so bad!  Sound familiar?  It is easy to scapegoat people because we have a genetic need to be right.  We need to be sure to feel safe.  Truth is, you are the only person responsible for the condition of the pavement on your road.  Only you.  Own that shit!  Sorry- not sorry.

I know that some of that hurt and it should if you do any or all of these things.  Usually reflection and ownership feel a little bad at first.  It’s okay.  In fact, the only place we can start is where we are.  How will we ever start if we cannot face the idea that we are only what begins us?  Dr. Robert Emmons certainly can give us insight and hope through the practice of gratitude.  He discovered that gratitude is the most powerful promoter of mental and emotional resiliency, while minimizing underlying negative emotions.  It is easier said than done, though.  Ready for the tools of the trade I promised?

Personify your own inner critic.  You already been knowin’ he’s a shit.  Give him a name and personality.  This makes him real and gives you an added edge to get to know his ticks from outside of yourself.  Take the time to really dig into who he is and how he is different from you at your core.  He is a part of you but separate, make it that way mentally!

Get bored with his stories.  We all have that one friend that tells the same three stories over, and over, and over, again.  We know how to deal with that friend right?  We deal with those same old repeating thoughts just like that friend.  “Oh geezus!  The same old story again dude?  Really?!?”  Eyeroll…

Reframing your “shoulds”.  I should go run.  Scratch that!  I want to go run because I feel so much better after I do.  I should go to work early.  Wait!  I want to get in early to gain traction on my day- I’ll get so much done!  I should cook something healthy instead of getting take-out.  No, sir!  I am worth the time to make myself something that will encourage me to get me closer to my goals.  Do THIS all the time.  Never stop!

Countering ANTs with PETs.  Positive empowering thoughts are the counterbalance to automatic negative thoughts.  Remember everything that is negative has a positive, that’s the hope we find for change.  This takes a piece of paper and a bit more work.  This is one of the best tools you can use though, so worth the investment!  Here how you do it:

Separate your page into three columns.  The first one you will name “Trigger”, next “ANTs”, finally “New Thoughts”.  In the first column you would place what triggered the ANT.  Did you make a mistake, say something you didn’t mean?  In the second column you will write your actual thought like “I suck because I messed up.  I don’t deserve this job!”  Finally you will take the time to write a new thought like “I am new at this.  This is the first time I have done this and now I know what to do/not do next time.  I’m growing”.  The more you do this exercise the more you will understand your own ANTs and how to practice combatting them.  You should quickly notice your common triggers and automatic responses.  Super powerful!  As with ANTs, PETs also create physical neuro pathways.  Just like ANT’s, PETs can also become self-fulfilling prophecies.  Go on now- do the fucking work, I’ll see you next time!

#TheRabbitHole

[bring-me-bellarke]

The 100 Ask

Tagged by @griffinnblake ! Thanks, Lindsay! Honestly, what a blast this was.

rules: answer as many as you want if tagged and then tag three more people OR just reblog it and treat it as a regular ask meme!! have fun xoxo

1. What would you get arrested for on the Ark?  Probably for punching a guard or something, tbh. Maybe starting underground resistance (yikes)

2. Would you take off your wristband when you landed on the ground?  Maybe. 

3. What would the necklace Finn would make for you look like? (Clarke: deer/Raven: a raven duh..)  Probably a fist or some sort of cool resist sign. 

4. If you could resurrect any MINOR character who would it be?  WELLS JAHA DESERVED BETTER. (close second would be Anya) (close third would be Ilian)

5. Create a squad of 5 characters to go on missions with. Who are they? Bellamy, Clarke, Raven, Monty, Miller.

6. Minty or Briller?  Mintyyyyyy all da way. Briller just never did anything for me. 

7. What would your name be in Trigedasleng? (example: Octavia=Okteivia…just make it up!)  Jessei, Jessai, i have no idea. 

8. Thoughts on Finn? I’ll be honest, I was blind when I first started watching and thought Finn was a good guy...until Raven showed up and was like WTF ....and then he massacred a bunch of people. Then I looked back and realized how manipulative he was with Clarke, and what a shitty person he was in general.

9. Be honest. How willing would you have been to take the chip without knowing all the horrible things it does? I don’t think I would have. It wouldn’t really appeal to me. I could see myself giving in if someone I loved was threatened (like Clarke with Abby, I would’ve folded like a lawn chair)  

10. What character do you relate to most & What character do you like the least not including the obvious ones like Pike, etc… I relate to Clarke and Raven the most. I’m bossy and serious like Clarke, but also sassy and passionate like Raven. The character I like the least was (don’t bring out the pitchforks) L/xa. To me, from day 1, she was too bland of a character. It’s like she was always putting on this brave facade that I just never bought into. But I truly love ADC and she’s awesome. I just didn’t believe all of L/xa’s dumb philosophies and thought she wasn’t a good leader. Also, Octavia was on my most hated from the moment she laid her hands on her brother (i will never be over that. bitter 2kforever)

11. Describe your delinquent outfit. (Would you wear something like Murphy’s jacket with the spikey red shoulder patch or have a trademark like Jasper’s goggles? Be creative, yet practical)  I probably would have had a patchy black leather jacket, gray t shirt that read Space Sucks, combat boots, black ripped up jeans, and the jacket would’ve had RESIST stitched onto the back in big letters (or maybe a patch). I like to think I would’ve been a total badass but who knows. 

12. Favorite type of mutant animal?  I don’t think we saw many besides two-headed deer, pauna, and maybe some panthers? Oh, wait! Glowing butterflies, those were cool.   

13. What would your job be on the Ark? Oooooh, I don’t know. Sounds weird, but I would’ve liked to work in the archives/library, making sure all the history was preserved (sounds like a Bellamy thing, I know). But tbh, I probably would be jailed for starting a resistance as a side gig. 

14. Would you have willingly pumped Ontari’s heart if Abby asked?  I’m squeamish, but I would’ve done it to save Clarke (and everyone else in turn). 

15. If Lexa wasn’t Heda, then who would make the best commander?  Hmm, good question. Well I loved Anya and think she could’ve. I think Luna might’ve if she’d given up her weird ways and NOT BEEN TOTALLY RUINED in s4. ALSO LINCOLN (RIP IM NOT OVER IT). If all 3 could’ve led as like a council, that’d be fire. 

16. If you were a grounder, then where would you live and who would be your mentor? Oh god, I don’t know the tribes. Maybe Trishanakru (sp?) just cause Ilian’s such a hottie and it would’ve been cool to be friends. 

17. How would you act if you ate the hallucinogenic nuts like Jasper and Monty?  I’d probably dare everyone to go jump off a waterfall with me (but like a small one)

18. How would you have dealt with Charlotte’s crime? A more John Murphy approach or Bellamy Blake?  Uggggghhhh, this is hard. Listen, neither method worked. Charlotte wouldn’t have survived on her own and Murphy’s dumb. Maybe like a jail or something they could’ve kept her in? Idk, there’s too many things that went wrong with all that. 

19. Who should be the Chancellor, if anyone?  Anyone at all? Crap, I don’t think there should just be one, it’s too much power. I like the idea of council/committee with the mains like Bellamy, Clarke, Kane, Abby, uhh idk who else. 

20. Mount Weather had a lot of modern commodities. (example: Maya’s Ipod) What is the one thing you would snatch while there?  Headphones to escape all the drama, probably. Maybe some good hiking gear because goddammit how do they all travel through all these jungles/woods? 

21. Do you think you’d have caught the virus spread through camp or would you have been immune like Octavia?  I would’ve caught it probs. 

22. What would your grounder tattoos look like? Hairstyle? War paint? I’d have just cool geo shape tattoos probably. I’d wear a high pony because how do the girls deal with humidity/sweat wearing it down???? My hair is hella thick, so no thanks. War paint would probably just be a few lines on my cheeks, maybe diagonals. 

23. Favorite quote?  I CAN’T JUST CHOOSE ONE. OH GOD MY HEART LITERALLY HURTS AT ALL THE ONES I LOVE. (this deserves its own post tbh)

24. Can you forgive Murphy for his actions? How about Bellamy?  Murphy’s a real pain in my side. Full offense, I hate that we move on so easily from a white boy’s VERY SIGNIFICANT MISTAKES, yet poor POC Bellamy has to keep suffering from the repercussions. Like Murphy LITERALLY permanently damaged Raven’s body yet they’re cool now? Idk, I hold grudges, and I don’t think I’d be able to let it go. Kudos to Raven, ig. Though I won’t hesitate to admit that Bellamy has royally fucked up too, from the radio to the army (which happened in a season I hate altogether). It just seems like we forgive Murphy much easier than Bellamy and it kills me. Whooo, sorry for that. 

25. If one of the characters was in the Hunger Games, who would have the best shot at winning? Hmm, I was gonna say Bellamy but he’s a real softie. Clarke is sneaky and sometimes heartless, so maybe her. BUT ACTUALLY Octavia would because she’s absolutely bat-shit crazy.

26. Least favorite ship? Favorite ship? NOT INCLUDING CLEXA OR BELLARKE  Aww crap. I didn’t like Flarke. Fave ship (that never happened) was Ice Mechanic, like imagine the chemistry/hotness. Ugh, still upset about this. Fave canon would be Kabby, I guess? They’re great, but it’s weird to think Kane had Abby tortured. Idk (Y’all know I’m ride or die Bellarke). I was conflicted for a long time about Linctavia because I loved them but when you boil it down, he was way older than her and it seemed kinda Stockholm Syndrome-y? Plus, she turns psycho and he would’ve hated it. IDK ALL SHIPS ARE PROBLEMATIC DAMMIT.

27. A song that should be included in the next season, like when Radioactive was? If there had to be another guest star like Shawn Mendes on the show, who would you want to make a cameo?  Lindsay said Home II by Dotan and I 100% agree because that song is amazing and would work so well for S5. Oooh, cameos! Um CAN YOU IMAGINE IF STEPHEN KING JUST SHOWED UP OUT OF THE BLUE? Like I would die. Or Kass Morgan, the original creator! 

28. What would you do if you were stuck in the bunker with Murphy for all that time?  Honestly, I’d probably be very annoyed and want to be far away from him. BUT if we did warm up to each other, I think we’d bond over cooking (if there was any food). 

29.Opinion on Emori? Roan?  Both badasses. Kinda indifferent on them actually. Like I don’t love or hate them. 

30. Would you want to be an extra that is killed off in a brutal way?  Yeah, sure. It’d be cool if it was memorable, poignant, and really related to/impacted the storyline. High hopes, amirite? 

31. A character you’d like to learn more about and get flashbacks of? Raven, I think. All her flashbacks were related to Finn and I hated it. WHO WAS SHE BESIDES FINN’S GIRLFRIEND? Show us her mess of a mom, how her love for science started, how she became a mechanic! God, there’s so much we don’t know. 

32. A character you’d bang?  BELLAMY FUCKING BLAKE, ladies and gents.

If you made it through all this, bless your soul! BUT THIS WAS SO MUCH FUN!! I loved having to really think about the hypotheticals and what I’d do if I was in this world/show. Side note, I’ve been totally gone from this blog and not even tagging my stuff (which is where I freak out the most). I’m slowly coming back and hope April comes soon! All right, this has been long enough. I tag @littlebellarkemix & @southsideserpentine & honestly anyone who wants to (it’s a lot of fun). 

#ask games #the 100 #my post

[micvhisms]

▼✿

                                           send me a symbol for…

✿  five times my muse almost texted yours, and the one time they did.

i. please don’t tell my brother. honestly, as much as micah liked cristian’s sisters, this wasn’t his place. their drama had nothing to do with him. he already didn’t know why she’d called him in the first place. yeah, they kept in contact after he left for college, but it wasn’t like they were best friends. it wasn’t even a best friend’s hot little sister kind of thing, because a) micah had known her far too long to even be remotely interested, b) he’d had to drive to the market at three am to get tampons with her before, and there really was no coming back from that, and c) cristian would probably actually hit him if micah showed that much interest. ( with good reason. he was already protective, and she deserved someone who could be emotionally available and could treat her right. micah couldn’t even say the word emotion without getting weird. ) 

it just further showed that he had no right getting in the middle of this. he drafted a text to his best friend. call claudia, she’s having a bad day. it would be out of his hands, and into those of someone much more equipped to handle this. but she’d asked him not to; she’d begged him to keep this between the two of them. lina freaked out, and you know he would, too, micah, please. and… she had a point. ugh. he deleted the text to cristian and called her back.   ❛  i’m not going to say anything. no, you’re going to tell him. and if he drives out there to kick what’s-his-name’s ass, it’s ‘cause he deserved it.   ❜    

ii. micah liked to think he had the immune system of a god. an unimportant one, maybe, but a god, nonetheless. he didn’t, of course. despite having only gotten sick twice as far as he could remember, one of those times, he caught pneumonia. so if his body had been fucked up before, it certainly was now. he blamed the pneumonia for this, too. he’d been fighting this off for a week, but it’d finally snuck up on him: the fucking flu. he’d quarantined himself to his room until it passed, not wanting to get naomi, the kids, or anyone else sick. the problem with that was that now he was hungry and too tired to move. he knew he had to take advantage of the hunger while it was there, because it was only a matter of time before he didn’t feel it at all, and he needed to eat. he grabbed his phone, squinting at the screen as he started to text whoever he’d last spoken to and ask them to bring something. mid way, he stopped, locking the phone and tossing it onto the bed. maybe it was the pride, but he suddenly wasn’t hungry anymore.

iii. leaning against the front desk, micah listened to the girl ramble on. admittedly, it was a lot funnier than it was annoying. why she felt the need to lie, he didn’t know. micah wasn’t stupid. she’d come here looking for cristian, probably because he hadn’t called her back or something. she really could’ve said that, and saved them both three minutes. but once she’d started talking, she wouldn’t stop. it was, probably, the most detailed and unbelievable lie micah had ever heard. and he wouldn’t have a problem with it, if it weren’t for the fact that they were at hq, and how did she even find this place? when she finally took a breath, he held up a hand to stop her from saying anything else. he grabbed his phone, typing out a text to cristian, before holding the phone out to her.  ❛  if i send this, will you please find someone else to stalk? i really don’t think cris is going to be as nice as i am about it.   ❜    she read the message, and her face heated up. two seconds later, she was out of sight. smug, micah deleted the text, tucking the phone back in his pocket and grinning at gina before he made his way back upstairs.

iv. where the fuck are you?? his phone was heavy in his hand, the text unsent. he didn’t want to panic, didn’t want to assume the worst. okay. okay. just because cristian wasn’t here didn’t mean he was hurt or anything. he was fine. he was fine. honestly, what were the chances of TWO BODIES showing up tonight? no. no. but micah couldn’t get the thought out of his mind. fuck, fuck, they weren’t doing this again. his finger hovered over the send button, and he looked up just as cristian made an appearance. locking his phone, he put it away, and pretended like he wasn’t an asshole for being slightly relieved it was just gina, and not both of them.

v. he should tell someone. he should tell someone. he needed to. and it made the most sense to tell cristian, right? micah told him everything. almost everything, anyway. it was why they were still friends. they were honest, even when it hurt. it’d be easier to explain this to cristian than anyone else, anyway. god, he wouldn’t even know where to start with anyone else. he could tell him. he had to tell him. because if things changed, cristian would know, and he’d wonder why, right? he’d been beating around the bush for so long, maybe it was time to━━

jesus christ, i’m sick and tired of this, micahwe’re not kids anymore. get your sulking head out of your ass and be real with me for a second

the texts came in rapid succession, sapping the warmth from micah’s body. it was fine. it was fine. ….dammit. he left cristian on read, and put his phone back in his pocket. their friendship was something he could work on repairing later. right now, he just… couldn’t.

+ i. it was late, and almost time for micah to retreat back to his roommate for the next few hours. let today fade into a distant memory, and prepare for tomorrow’s troubles. he ran a hand through his hair, putting the last of the dishes in the sink. his phone vibrated on the counter, another text coming through that he wasn’t prepared to answer. he watched as more texts poured in, his confusion mounting as he read them. make what go away? he grabbed the phone, and hesitated. he hadn’t spoken much to cristian lately, and it was for good reason. but cristian honestly seemed scared of whatever he was talking about. micah couldn’t leave him like that. against his better judgement, he texted back.

i have no idea what’s going on.but i’ll help you figure it out.shit, just give me a second. i’ll call you.

▼  five times my muse has caught yours getting off, and the one time they help out.

i.     ❛  cristian? dude, what are you doing, your mother has been━━ jesus christ.   ❜    he looked away, quickly shutting the door to cristian’s room. he rubbed his temples, immediately needing a nap. he loved cristian, and wasn’t blind to his attractiveness. even so, seeing him like that wasn’t something micah had been prepared for when he came over this morning.       ❛  your mother is calling you, man. and if she catches you with your hand down your pants, i’m not helping you.   ❜    and from now on, micah would knock.

ii. this was, possibly, the worst christmas present micah had ever gotten.     ❛  is this a sex tape?   ❜    he shrieked into the phone, over the sound of cristian’s laughs.     ❛  i asked for a MIXTAPE, you ass! you’re not my type. don’t laugh, i’m serious! and i have three classes with her! how do you expect to face her after this? …cristian? cristian, you dick, i know you can still hear me !!  ❜  

iii. micah hoped they weren’t making a habit of this. he was no longer shocked at the sight of cristian and all of his pride, but he wasn’t quite sure how he felt about it. right now, he was just tired. cristian seemed to be having fun, anyway. shocking.    ❛  when you’re done, we still have a meeting to suffer through. and you don’t get to sit in here and treat yourself while i listen to eli and isaiah debate whether or not their random field trip of the week was haunted or not. so unless you’re thinking of fucking ghosts, which i’m assuming you’re not, hurry up.  ❜  

iv. this time, he knocked before entering. of course, it didn’t do shit. he was starting to think cristian was doing it on purpose, but he also wouldn’t bet on it.   ❛  you’re insatiable, you know that? i don’t know why i keep coming over here.  ❜   whatever he’d come over here for, it wouldn’t get resolved today. he didn’t know how long cristian would be at it, and he wasn’t planning on waiting around to find out.

v. the girl scampered past micah with an embarrassed squeal, but he didn’t give her a second glance. he leveled a glare at cristian.   ❛  if your one night stands start showing up here, i’m not going to scare them away. and you’re going to be the one explaining to everyone why so many people suddenly know where we work.  ❜  

+ i. someone was pressed up against him. a few someones, he thought. it’d be better, a lot hotter, if he wanted them there. expect he didn’t. both of them smelled like they’d taken a bath in whiskey, and he didn’t exactly want to go home smelling like that. he ignored them both, swallowing down his irritation as he looked for an exit. god, he hated frat parties. he broke away after a moment, no longer in the mood to be nice. a hand wrapped around his wrist, and she said something… something drowned out by the music and the blood rushing in his ears. he ended up dragging her along, not caring about where he was going. he just needed to… shit, he needed to get out.

the first door he opened turned out to be a bathroom. he was honestly more surprised to find cristian here at all, than he was to find cristian in such a compromising position. the girl who’d followed him let out a rather pathetic noise, and micah suddenly missed kimberly. she was far less annoying. his eyes met cristian’s, and it took him a second to tear them away.    ❛  i━━ you know what?  ❜   he nudged the girl ahead of him, towards cristian. she didn’t look all that upset by it. later, he might’ve felt like a dick for it, because that wasn’t the nicest thing to do. but, at the moment, he was just glad she’d found someone else to latch onto.    ❛  you deal with her. i… whatever, i’m going home.  ❜   and if cristian or the girl had anything to say, the only response they got was the sound of the bathroom door slamming on micah’s way out.

#cristicns #thjis is the worst thing i've ever written and i can't believ #there's so much i want to say about this and yet i hav eno idea where to start??? #so i'll shut up!! #nsfw... ish? #not really but i guess bc it's all very heavily implied #x. ❛ up next: ‘your biggest fan’ by nick jonas. ( re: cristian. ) #xvi. ❛ tryna put you in the worst mood. ( asks. ) #iii. ❛ i ain’t mean to say that shit. ( prose. )